CHAP. I. ¶ Of Office or Duetie, and of Poli­cie or Estate.

IT is manifest that the dutie of ciuill life consisteth in dealing one with another, Arist. lib. 9. of matters of gouernment. and that therevpon both honours and empires do depend; so as princes, kings, emperours, and soueraigne lords, doe practise the ciuil life; their Dutie lieth in the exercise thereof, their welfare commeth thence, and therevpon de­pendeth their preseruation. Isocrates in his Panathe. For policie is the verie soule of the publicke-weale, and hath like power there, as wisdome hath in the bodie of man: and as Plutarch saith in the life of Marcus Cato, It is a maxime or principle confessed of the whole world, that a man cannot atchieue a greater vertue or knowledge, than Policie is; What Poli­cie is. that is to say, than is the skil to gouerne and rule a whole multitude of men, the which is the thing that we call Estate: to the knowledge whereof mans nature is so well dispo­sed, that it seemeth to be borne with him. And the men of old time called the goddesse Pallas, Cicero in his booke of the ends of good and euill. by the names of Polemike and Politike, as who would say, That the gouernours of nations ought to haue both chiualrie and lawes iointly together. And therfore in treating of the maners that are most beseeming in princes, and purposing by that mean to set their wise sayings, and politike doings in order, I haue vsed the word Dutie, as a terme most fittest to the matter I haue in hand. For vertuous deeds and good works are called Duties by the Philosophers, where­of Cicero hath made three goodly books, wherin he declareth [Page 2] at large, in what things euery mans dutie consisteth. For (as he saith) there is not any part of our life, Our life can­not be with­out Dutie. be it in matters publicke or priuat, that can be without Dutie, as wherein consisteth the whole honour of our life, and likewise the dishonour through the forslowing therof; Cicero in the ends of good and euil men. insomuch that an honest man will rather put himselfe in danger and endure all maner of aduersitie and paines, than leaue his Dutie vndone. And therefore, afore we speake of princes, it wil be good for vs to decide what a Duty is, to the end that men may vnderstand wherof we treat. The definiti­on of Dutie. We call that a Dutie, to the doing whereof we be bound, as to a thing that our vocation or calling requireth: as for example, The dutie of a Til-man, is to till the ground well; the dutie of a Iudge, is to iudge mens causes vprightlie, without accepting of persons; the duetie of a housholder, is to gouerne well his house; like­wise the duetie of a prince or king, is to gouerne well his people, to minister good iustice vnto them, and to keepe them from ta­king wrong: and generally the duetie of man (according to A­ristotle in his first booke of Morals) is the inworking of the mind conformed vnto reason, or at least wise not alienated from rea­son; as when the crafts-man hauing purposed some peece of worke, employeth his skill and labour to bring his worke to a perfect end, so as the end and vtmost point of his honest and ver­tuous action, is his Dutie.

Two sortes of Duetie. Cicero in his booke of Duties, maketh two sorts thereof; the one he termeth right and perfect, which is matched with true vertue, and is peculiar to the discretion of the wise; as when it is demaunded what is wisdome, iustice, valeantnesse, or tem­perance, or what is profit, or what is honestie. The other he tearmeth meane, which consisteth in precepts, whereby a man may stablish an honest trade of life; as when it is demaunded, why one thing should be done rather than another, and what dif­ference there is betwixt one thing and another, because the thing that well beseemeth a yong man, doth ill beseeme an old man; and that which well beseemeth a magistrate, or a prince, doth ill become a priuat person; and that which becommeth well a priuat person, doth ill become a prince. But these two sorts may be reduced into one, euen by the saying of the same [Page 3] Cicero, who confesseth that these two sorts of duties tend both of them to the soueraigne good, and aime not at anie other end than that, sauing that the one belongeth to the wise, who aime not at any other law than onely vertue: and the other serueth for the directing of the common conuersation, in respect wher­of it needeth the helpe of lawes & precepts. And as touching vs that are Christians, we may well say, that all our dueties tend to the soueraigne good, and are perfect, vnlesse ye will exact that exquisit perfection, which our Sauiour taught the yoong man whē he said vnto him, That if he would be perfect, it beho­ued him to sell all that he had, and to deale it vnto the poore, and to follow him. Therefore to know what is the duetie of eue­ry man, both prince and priuat, noble and vnnoble; our law-ma­ker teacheth it vs in two precepts: whereof the first consisteth in the worshipping of God, and in the louing of him with all our heart: for it is reason that we should yeeld him faith and allea­geance for our creatiō, Men are be­holders of heauenlie thinges. Cicero in his second booke of the nature of the Gods. The louing of our neighbor is the fulfil­ling of the law. and for the great number of so many good things which we receiue dailie at his hand, seing that we peculiar­ly of all other liuing wights, are beholders of the heauenly things that are aboue. The other is, for the instruction and stablish­ment of the common conuersation; wherein consisteth the du­tie of a christian, which is to loue his neighbour as himself. For (as saith S. Paule to the Romanes) it is a fulfilling of the law of God, and a confirming of the law of nature, which will not haue a man to doe that to an other, which he would not haue done to him­selfe. And he that keepeth this precept cannot do amisse. For it is very certaine, that no man hateth his own flesh, ne procureth any euill to himselfe, and therfore he vvill not do any such thing to his neighbour. Now then, we need not to be taught what is Vp­rightnesse, Valeantnesse, and Staiednesse: for he that keepeth the said precept, will not do any vnright. But forasmuch as our own nature, by reason of the corruption thereof, maketh vs to step out of the right vvay; if vve will come into the true path a­gaine, it be houeth vs of necessitie to peruse the law and the com­maundements, and to treat of the vertues which are termed Car­dinall, namely, Wisedome, Vprightnesse, Valeantnesse, and Temperance, or Staiednesse; and of the branches depen­ding [Page 4] vpon them (the which S. Austine doth allegoricallie terme the foure streames that watered the earthly Paradise in old time, [...]n his 13 book of the citie of God. and daily still watereth the little world of them that liue well) and to see how good princes haue practised them, and how euill princes for want of making account of them, haue found themselues ill apaid: Histories [...]erue for good instru­ction. to the end vve may make our profit of hi­stories and not make them as a matter of course, but as a good and wholsome instruction. Howbeit, ere we enter into that mat­ter, it behoueth vs to know vvhat a Prince, a King, an Emperour, and a soueraigne Lord, is.

CHAP. II. Of a Prince, a King, an Emperour, and a soueraigne Lord.

WE cannot enioy the goods which God hath giuen vs on this earth, except there be a iu­stice, a law, and a prince, as Plutarch teacheth vs in his booke concerning the education of princes. Iustice is the end of the law; law is the workmanship of the prince; and the prince is the workmanship of God that ruleth all, who hath no need of a Phidias. For he himselfe behaueth himselfe as God. And like as God hath set the Sunne and the Moone in the skye, as a goodly resemblance of his Godhead: so a Prince in a common-weale is the light of the common-weale, and the image of God; who vvorshipping God, maintaineth iu­stice, that is to say, vttereth foorth the reason of God, that is to weet, Gods minde. A Prince then is a magistrate that hath soueraigne power to commaund those ouer vvhom he hath charge. The definiti­on of a Prince. And vnder this generall terme of Prince, I comprehend kings, emperours, dukes, earles, marquises, and gouernors of cities and common-weales. The men of old time called him a Prince, which excelled other men in discretion and wisedome. For like as to make a fortunate voyage by sea, there behoueth a good [Page 5] Pilot, that is a man of courage and good skill: so to the well gouerning of subiects there behoueth a good Prince. And therefore we may say, that that prince is the chiefe and most excellent of all, which for the preheminence of his wisdome and worthinesse commaundeth all others. Plutarch in the life of Pe­lopidas. It is the first and chiefest law of nature, that he which is vnable to gard and defend himselfe, should submit himselfe to him that is able and hath wherewith to do it; and such a one doe we tearme a chiefe man, The prince is as a God a­mong men. or a prince, who ought to be esteemed as a God among men, (as Aristotle saith in his third booke of matters of state) or at least wise as next vnto God (as Tertullian saith vnto Scapula;) and such a one ought all others to obay as a person that hath the authoritie of God, as saith S. Paule. Ho­mer termeth princes, Diogenes and Diotrophes, that is to say; Bred and brought vp of Iupiter. And Cicero in his common weale saith; That the gouerners and keepers of townes and citties doe come from heauen, and shal returne thither againe when they haue done their dueties. And in another place describing a good Prince, he saith that he ought to despise all pleasures, and not yeeld to his owne lust, nor be needy of gold and siluer. A prince should not be bare of trea­sure. For the needinesse of the Prince is but a deuiser of subsidies, as the Empresse Sophia said to Tiberius Constantine. Also he ought to be more mindfull of his peoples profit, than of his own pleasure. And to conclude in a word, a prince ought to imprint in his heart the saying of Adrian the emperor to the Senate, namely, That he ought to behaue himselfe after such a sort in his gouernmēt, as euerie man might perceiue that he sought the benefit of his people, & not of himselfe. Also men cal them Princes which are of the blood royal, & stand in pos­sibilitie to succeed to the crowne, and generally all soueraigne magistrats, as dukes, marquises, earles, and other chiefe lords, of which sort there are in Italy and Germanie, which haue soue­raigne authoritie and owe no more to the emperour, but only their mouth and their hands. But the greatest and excellen­test magistrats are the kings and emperours.

An Emperour is a terme of warre, What an em­perour is. borrowed of the Ro­manes, [Page 6] for in their language the word Imper [...] signifieth to commaund. And albeit that in their armies, the Romanes had captaines whom they called Emperors, which commaunded absolutely, and were obayed as kings, yet did not any man v­surpe or take to himselfe that title of Emperor, vnlesse he had done some notable exploit of warre. Insomuch that Crassus was counted a man but of base minde and small courage, and of slender hope, to atchieue any great or haughty matters, that could finde in his heart to be named emperor, for taking a silly towne called Zenodotia. Afterward when the state of the common weale was chaunged, by reason of the ciuill warres, and reduced into a Monarchie, the successors of Iu­lius Caesar, knowing how odious the name of king was to the Romanes, would not take that title vnto them, but conten­ting themselues with the effect therof, they named them­selues Emperors, which among vs is as much to say, as chiefe leaders or Generals of an armie or host of men. Plato in his booke of Lawes, teacheth vs seuen sorts of ruling or comman­ding; the first is, that the father commaundeth his children; the second, that the valeant & noble-minded commaund the weake and baseminded; the third, that the elder sort com­mand the yoonger; the fourth, that the maisters commaund the seruants; the fift, that the mightier commaunds the fee­bler; the sixt, (which is the greatest dignitie) is, that the wise commaund the ignorant; and the seuenth, is that which com­meth by lot and by the grace of God; so as he that is chosen by lot, commandeth and raigneth, and he that faileth of it, is bound to obay.

The qualities of a good em­perour. Cicero speaking of Pompey, saith, that a good emperor (that is to say, a good Generall of a field) must haue the skill of chiualrie and feats of arms, vertue, authoritie, and felicitie. He must be painfull in affaires, hardy in daungers, skilfull in deui­sing things, quicke in performing, and of good prouidence to foresee. Titus Liuius saith, that the great Captaine Hanniball was wonderful hardy in putting himselfe to the perils of warre, and very resolute in the middest of danger; that neither his [Page 7] body nor his minde were fore-wearied with trauel, that he pa­tiently abode both heat and cold alike, that he measured his eating and drinking rather by naturall appetite, than by plea­sure; that for sleeping or waking▪ he made no difference be­tweene day and night; but looke what time remained vnto him from doing of his businesse, he bestowed it in taking his rest, not vpon a soft featherbed in some place far from noise, but ordinarily lying vpon the ground couered with a souldiers cassocke, among the warders, & the whole troops of the men of armes. When he went among the horsemen or the foote­men, he marched alwaies formost, and was the first that gaue the onset, and when the fight was ended, he was the hinder­most in the retreit. Plutarch treating of Sertorius saith, that in matters ciuile he was gentle and courteous, and in matters of warre he was of great fiercenesse and forecast. He was ne­uer seene surprised with feare or ioy, but like as in most perill he was void of feare, so in his prosperity he was very mode­rate. He gaue not place in hardinesse to any of his time, nor for valiantnesse, in fighting, nor for setled resolution in all sud­daine aduentures. When any enterprise was to be done that required good aduise, or skill to choose the aduantage of some place of strong scituation to lodge in, or to giue battell, or to passe a riuer, or to shift off some mishap, & that for the doing thereof there behoued great sleight, or the working of some policie, and the giuing of some gleeke to the enemie, in due time & place, he was a most excellent crafts-maister. Besides all this, he was liberall & magnificent in rewarding honorable deeds of arms, and meeld and mercifull in punishing misdeeds. He was not subiect to his bellie, neither did he drinke out of measure, no not euen when he had no businesse to do. In time of most vacation he was wont from his very youth to put himselfe to great trauell, to make long iourneis, to passe many nights together without sleepe, to eate little, & to be conten­ted with such meats as came first to hand. And whē he was at leisure, he was alwaies either riding, or hunting, or running, or walking abroad in the fields. I haue inserted this the more at [Page 8] length, to the intent it may serue for a patterne to Princes that intend to prosper, and to performe their charge happily. Now let vs come to a king. The Latine word Rego, (whereof com­meth Rex, which betokeneth a king) signifieth to rule or go­uerne. And so a king is nothing else but a ruler or gouerner of people. Likewise Homer termeth him sometime the Garni­sher, and sometime the heardman or sheepheard of the peo­ple, because he ought to be carefull for his people, Kings are heardmen and sheep­heards of their people. as the sheepheard is for his sheepe, and to watch ouer them as the sheepheard doth ouer his flocke, that no man doe them wrong. And (as Plutarch saith) a good prince is like a sheep­heards dogge, which is alwaies in feare, not for himselfe, but least the wolfe should fall vpon the sheepe, and so is a good Prince in feare, not for himselfe, but least any euill should be­fall his subiects. Aristotle in his third booke of matters of State, saith▪ There are foure sorts of kingdomes, the first is, where the king hath no soueraigne authoritie, further than in matters of warre, and in sacrifising; of which sort, were the kings of Sparta, or Lacedemon: and this maner of kingdome is as a perpetuall captaineship, matched with souereigne au­thoritie of life and death, such as Agamemnon had, who did put vp iniuries when he sate at counsell, but had power to put whom he listed to death when he was in armes. And of such kingdomes some goe by inheritance, and other some by ele­ction. The second sort of kingdomes are those that goe both by inheritance and election, the which notwithstanding ap­procheth vnto tyrannie, sauing that the keeping thereof is king-like, that is to say, the kinges are garded by their owne subiects, whereas the tyrants are garded by strangers. And the kings commaund by law, and are obayed with good will: wheras the tyrants raigne altogether by constraint. Insomuch that the one sort are garded by their owne citizens or coun­trimen, and the other by strangers, against the countrimen. The third is Barbarous, not for that it is against law, but for that it is not in custome, of which sort was the gouernment of the Mitylenians, which chose Pittacus against their bani­shed [Page 9] persōs. And the fourth sort is that which was vsed in the time of the noble princes, whom the Greeks called Heroes, who vsurped not dominion by force, but had it bestowed vpon them by the people, of good will, deliuered ouer afterward lawfully to their successors. They intended to the warres, and to church-matters, and therewithall iudged matters of con­trouersie. Of these foure sorts of kingdomes he maketh a fift, which is, when one commaundeth absolutely. This kind agreeth most to our time, specially in this country, where the king commaundeth absolutely, howbeit without infringing the law, for then were it not king-like, but tyran-like. And ac­cording to Aristotle, What a king is. when a Prince reigneth without law, it is all one as if a wild beast reigned. A King then is a soueraigne Prince that reigneth ouer a people, not seeking his own pecu­liar profit, but the profit of his subiects. This maner of reigning is like to houshold gouernment; for although the maister of the house do ouer-rule his traine and his seruaunts at his plea­sure, yet notwithstanding he regardeth aboue all things the welfare of his familie: euen so a good king is to haue an eye most principally to the welfare and benefit of his houshold, namely of his subiects. For vpon them dependeth his owne welfare, as the welfare of the maister of a household depen­deth vpon his meiny and seruants. A king must commaund his subiects as a father doth his children. One being asked vpon a time what a prince was to doe, that he might raigne wel; said, He must commaund his subiects as a father commaun­deth his children; for the father commaundeth not his chil­dren any thing, but that which is for their welfare. In this re­spect Homer called Iupiter Father of Gods and men, according to the saying of our Lord, who hath taught vs to call the soue­raigne Monarch, (I meane the aeternall God) Our father; and not our king and our Lord: whereby he teacheth vs, that the true soueraigntie is that which resembleth the soueraigntie of fathers, and that the true subiects are those that resemble chil­dren. The iust cō ­maundement of the prince, and the iust o­bedience of the subiects, are answera­ble either to other, & can­not be sepa­rated. All such as haue written of gouernment, say; that a kingdome well ordered consisteth but in two points, name­ly in the iust commaundement of the Prince, and in the due [Page 10] obedience of the subiects. And if either of them both faile, it is like the separation of the soule and the body, in the life of man; as king Francis the first, right excellently declared to the men of Rochell, in the yeare of our Lord, fiue hundred forty three. Isocrates in the instruction which he giueth to Nicocles, saith thus; It is to no purpose for you to haue faire horses, and faire hounds, if ye take no pleasure of them, ne loue them: so is it also to no purpose for a prince to haue such subiects as he desireth, if he take no pleasure in dealing well with them. And as the same author saith; Those kingdomes and states of gouernment continue long, which are charie ouer the wel­fare of their people. The treasure of a good prince that loueth his subiects, is in the houses of his subiects; and it is a common saying, That the pouertie of a prince appeareth by the pouer­tie of his subiects; but when they be well at ease, and weal­thie, then is the prince to be deemed rich. The marke of a tyrant. Therefore the marke of a tyrant, whom Homer termeth, A deuourer of his people, is to be seene in the pouertie of the subiects, for that he fleeceth them to enrich those that are about him, namely the ministers of his pleasures, and of his euil lusts; which thing causeth all men to hate him, and to shun him as a witlesse beast, so that for his reward he hath the indignation of God, and hatred of man, a short life, and a perpetuall shame: wher­as the reward of a good Prince, that keepeth the laws, hono­reth vprightnesse, and iudgeth according to iustice, is to liue and raigne long time, as Moses affirmeth. Which thing Philo laying foorth at large▪ saith, That although a prince die in bo­dy, yet liueth he still for euer by his vertues, which cannot be abolished or defaced by death. A Kingdome. A kingdome therefore is a publike state, wherin one only commandeth, hauing respect to the common-weale. Tyrannie. The contrary whereof is Tyrannie, which is a monarchie that respecteth alonly the profit of the monarch. The state of a king, because it respecteth the com­mon profit▪ & by that means draweth the hearts of the people vnto it, is durable, and is vpheld by the only friendship of the subiects. Contrarywise, because a Tyrant is like a roaring lion and a hunger-staruen beare (as Salomon saith in his Prouerbs) [Page 11] and in that respect is not ordinarily beloued of his people, nor of any good men, therefore he is faine to keepe a gard of strangers about him, to make men feare him and obay him by force, which force of his maketh him the more behated. For the maintaining of which guard, he is faine to be at great char­ges, which is a cause that he becommeth the more odious, by his charging and greeuing of the people. The way to winne loue. And therefore a cer­taine Gymnosophist of India being asked of Alexander, by what means he might make himselfe most beloued, answered wisely: By being very good, and by dealing so as men should not stand in feare of him. For feare is an ill preseruer of the thing that is to continue. And it is apparent, that such men en­dure but a little while, for as soone as the patience of the peo­ple beginneth to faile, by and by those princes loose their children and their state: as it befell to Denis the tyrant of Si­racuse, and diuers other like. Vniustice is the cause of the alteration of states. For (as saith Ecclesiasticus) a king­dome is transferred from one nation to another, for the vniu­stice, the iniuries, the extortions, and the fraudes that are di­uersly cōmitted. Paulus Iouius speaking of Ismael Sophie, saith, That after he had recouered his grādfathers kingdome, by the fauor of the prouinces that were greatly affectioned towards him, he released the tribute incōtinently; being alwais of opi­nion, that the good will of men (which is easily wone by libe­rality & iustice) was the surest strength of a kingdome; and (to his seeming) it was not the part of a good king, but of a proud Potentate and new vpstart, to raigne lord-like ouer the only goods of his people, when the hearts of them all were estran­ged from him by the grieuousnesse of tributes. The king­dome that is maintained by friendly dealing, is stronger than that which is vpheld by force. Therfore I will conclude, that the kingdome which is maintained by fauora­ble means, is much more strong and durable, than that which is vpheld by force. Which thing Philip king of Macedonia perceiuing, sought by al means he could, to continue in friend­ship with the Greeks, notwithstnading that he was often­times constrained to vse force, in bereauing them of their li­berty. And vpon a time when he was councelled by his faith­fullest seruants, to set Garrisons in all the cities of Greece that [Page 12] he had conquered, he would not take knowledge of it, saying, he had leuer to be esteemed a good man for a long time, than to be king or a lord for a short time, because he thought that the soueraigntie which is held by loue is durable, whereas the soueraignty that is held by violence & terror, cannot continue any long time. At another time, hauing gotten the possession of a certain place in Peloponnesus, he deliberated a long time whether he should keepe it, or leaue it to the Messenians, wherein he asked the aduice of Aratus and Demetrius. The opinion of Demetrius was, That he shuld hold fast the Oxe by both the hornes; meaning, that he should easily keepe the country of Peloponnesus, if he had the said towne which was called Ithomata, together with Acrocorinth, which he had already. But Aratus after long thinking vpon the matter said thus, Sir, the Phocenses haue many cities, and so haue also the Acarnanians, all wel fortified, as wel in the firme land, as vpon the Sea-cost: of all these you shall not enioy any, and yet not­withstanding they faile not to doe whatsoeuer you commaund them, without compulsion. The outlawes are in the rocks and mountaines, No castle so strong as good will. and there they hold themselues strong: but vnto a king there is no castle more strong and sure, than good will. Also counsell was giuen to Antigonus, to place a good garison in Athens, to keepe it from reuolting any more, and to make it as a bulwarke against all Greece, but he answered, That there was not a better bulwarke, than the loue of the people. The best Bul­warke is the peoples loue. And as Plutarch saith in the life of Aratus, The surest guard that a great lord can haue, is the true and constant good will of his subiects. For when the nobilitie & communalty of a country are wont to be afraid, not of him, but for him that gouerneth them, then doth he see with many eies, and heare with many eares, and perceiueth a far off, whatsoeuer is done. And therfore there is more profit and more honor also in be­ing a king, than in being a tyrant. And as it is Gods commaun­dement and will, that the prince should haue a singular care and regard of the welfare and benefite of his people, because he is chosen to be vnto them a defender and protector: so on [Page 13] the contrarie part, he is forbidden by the mouth of Salomon, to pill and oppresse the poore, because they be succourlesse. For the Lord (saith he) will take their cause in hand, & will deale roughly with such as haue dealt roughly with them.

CHAP. III. Of the three sorts of Gouernment, and which of the three is the best.

FOrasmuch as we treat of the state of gouern­ment, we must not suffer a very cōmon thing to passe in silence, which yet (to my seeming) ought not to be omitted, namely, that there be three sorts of ciuill gouernments appro­ued in the world; whereof the one is called by the generall name of a Publike-weale, wherin all men as wel poore as rich, noble as vnnoble, are admitted to gouerne by turne. Another is called Aristocracie, which is compacted of some smal num­ber of noblemen, and men of reputation, who beare all the sway. And the third is the Monarchie, or Kingdome, wherin al things are at the commandment of one alone. These three sorts of gouernment, because they tend all to the welfare of the whole state, are all allowable, and many like well to be vnder them, some vnder one, and some vnder another, accor­ding as the humors of people be diuersly disposed. As for ex­ample, The Aegyptians could not abide to be without a king, and the Athenians could not endure to haue a king. The con­traries to these three sorts of gouernment are faulty and repro­ued; namely Democracie, the contrarie to a Publike-weale: wherin the people beare all the sway alone, and carrie all the credite, without calling the nobilitie and gentlemen to coun­sel. Oligarkie, the contrararie to Aristocracie; which is the go­uernment of some few men, that conuert all things to their [Page 14] owne profit: and tyranny the contrarie to a kingdome, which is the gouernment of one alone that doth all things at his plea­sure, without refourming himselfe to law and reason. To say which of the said three good states is the best, it is a hard mat­ter; The praise of Arist [...]cracie. yet notwithstanding many men prefer Aristocracie be­fore the Kingdome, because it is not ruled by the discretion of any one transitorie man, vpon the valour whereof the welfare of the whole state might depend, but it is gouerned by the immortall counsell of an euerlasting senate. For it is a rare matter to find any one man so fully perfect & worthie to raign. And as Nicholas Foscarin of Venice said, Kings do not so easily res [...]st their lusts as priuat per­sons doe. Kings doe not easily resist their owne lusts as priuat persons do; because that in as­much as they be customably honoured in their kingdomes, and are heard and obayed in the twinckling of an eie, they be not only high-minded and insolent, but also impatient if they obtaine not whatsoeuer seemeth iust vnto them; and to their seeming, all things is iust that they desire; bearing themselues in hand, that with one word they can put away all impedi­ments, and ouercome the nature of all things; nay, they thinke it a shame for them to shrinke from their inclinations, for any difficulties; taking counsell, not of discretion & reason, but of their own will & statelinesse. And as Soderin Gonfalonier of Florence said; (when he moued the Florentines to take a parte, and not to be newtors any more) Princes thinke them­selues wrōged when they be denied their requests, & flie vp­on euery man that followeth not their will, and hazardeth not his state together with theirs. The cōmen­dation of the state of a kingdome. But if they be such as they ought to be, vndoubtedly it is the greatest good turne that can befall to a realme, and most resembling God, who by his euerlasting prouidence, raigneth alone ouer the whole world. And it is also conformable and drawing neere to our nature, wherin we see one that ouer-ruleth all the rest; for if we consider our body, we see it is ouer-ruled by a soule, which giueth mouing to all the members, without the which, the body is but as a blocke. Among our members we haue a heart, which is (as you would say) the Prince and king of all the rest. And in the [Page 15] mind, reason beareth chiefe rule. The Bees haue their king. In an armie there is a generall that commaundeth, and in a ship there is a Pilot that guideth it. Rome could not abide two brothers raigning together. Esau and Iacob stroue euen in their mothers wombe. In the church-gouernment one only bishop or Metropolitane commaundeth. In a house there is but one maister, the residue are but seruants, obaying the commaun­dements of the maister of the house. And therefore he that would haue altered the kingdome of Sparta into a popular state, came short; insomuch that Agesilaus said vnto him, It was meet that he should first stablish a popular state in his owne house: doing vs to vnderstand, that that forme of go­uernment which a man would be loath to haue in his house, is not meet to be in a citie or country. For (as saith Aristotle) A citie is nothing else but a great houshold. To the same pur­pose did Homer say, That the gouernmēt of many was nothing woorth, and that mo than one gouernor needed not. After the death of Cambises, when the Princes of Persia had ex­pulsed the Magies, who had inuaded the empire, they as­sembled together, to consult how they might thensforth go­uerne the State. In this meeting there were three sundry opi­nions. One was of Othanes, who said there needed no king to be chosen, but that the affaires of the realme were to be ma­naged by all men in common, and euerie man ought to be left at his owne libertie, without subiection to any one, because it is ordinarily seene, Sole gouern­ment maketh men insolent. that a sole soueraign becommeth insolent, and that if he be displeased, he may satisfie his insolencie to the full. Megabysus was of the contrarie opinion, saying that such libertie is more dangerous than Tyranny, because that if the noblemen and cities should be without a soueraigne lord, they might abuse that libertie at their pleasure. And therefore he thought it good, that neither the cities them­selues, nor the whole multitude of the nobilitie, should haue the managing of the publike affairs; but that the doing therof should be committed to some certaine number of good and vertuous Princes, which should haue the gouerning of the [Page 16] State, and be obeyed as a king of all the rest. But Darius liked none of both those aduises, because that if all men should be at libertie, without obedience to anie, it could not continue long, forsomuch as it was not possible, that a multitude of free lords could any long time agree among themselues; and to take any small number of them to rule the State, it was also vnconuenient, because there would rise innumerable matters, wherein the princes would not be all of one mind; and more­ouer, there would alwaies be some one or other that would attempt to controle the rest, which thing would breed dissen­tion among them, and finally the ruine of the State. And ther­fore he was of opinion that of all the kinds of gouernment, ther was not a better than the Monarchie. The which aduise of his, Kingdomes haue passed al other states of gouern­ment, both in largenesse of dominion, & in length of time. all the rest of the princes followed. Of a verie truth we see, that neither the State of Aristocracie, nor the State of Democracie, haue atteined to like greatnesse as kingdoms haue, sauing onely Rome for the largenesse of empire, and Venice, for continuance of time. For, as for Lacedemon and Athens, their dominions extended but a little way, notwith­standing that the one of them made their power to be seene in the lesser Asia, and the other became terrible to the Per­sians. But aboue all other, A commen­dation of the popular state▪ the popular gouernment is most vn­weeldie, because it is full of ignorance and confusednesse of people; whose nature (as said Bellifarius) is to moue by rage, rather than by reason; and who (as saith Guicciardine) groun­ding themselues vpon deceitfull and vaine hopes, & being fu­rious in their dealings, when danger is far off, and quite out of courage when peril doth approch, are not in any wise to be ru­led or restrained. And (as Philip of Nauar was wont to say) there is not any certain stay in a cōmunaltie; & for that cause he would not trust the Parisians, nor come within their citie, what shew of good will soeuer they were able to make; per­suading himselfe that he could not be in sufficient suretie, a­mong so great a number of people of so diuers humors. Which thing the Senat of Rome considering, chose rather to giue their people Tribunes, than to giue vnto them the reines of [Page 17] authoritie without a magistrat. People are more tracta­ble hauing a head, than be­ing without a head. For although the power of the tribunes was ouer-great, yet thought they it better than the ouer-vehement and boistrous power of the people; who be­come more tractable when they haue a head, than when they be without one; For a head considereth the danger, but the people cast no perill at all. The popular gouernment is hard to be dealt with; for it is a beast with many heads, which doth good vnto them that would it euill, and requite euill to them that doe it good. The reward of such as serue in po­pular state. As the Athenians did to Miltiades, whom in recompence of the good which he had done them in deli­uering them from a dangerous siege, and in vanquishing ten hundred thousand Persians, himselfe hauing but ten thou­sand men, they amerced at a great fine, keeping him in prison till he had fully paid it, and finally banished him out of the country. They did as much to Themistocles, Aristides, Alcibia­des, and other good captaines of their citie, whereof anon after ensued their owne decay. We know how Iames of Arteuill go­uerned the people of Gaunt in his time, and what power and authoritie he had ouer them, and how he was beloued of all; and yet neuerthelesse they put him to death vpon a small sus­pition, and would not so much as heare his reasons. They did as much to Iohn Boulle, one of their captains, because that without cause and without likelihood, they had wrongfully surmised of him, that he had brought them into an ambush, vpon secret compact with the earle of Flaunders; and he was not permitted to shew his reasons and excuses. For with­out hearing him, they drew him out of his lodging into the street, and there hewed him into small peeces, euerie man ca­rying away a peece that could come by it. Therefore Demost­henes, who was banished Athens as others had been, conside­ring how Athens was dedicated to Minerua, said; O Pallas, what meanest thou to enterteine so wicked and foule beasts, as a night-owle, a dragon, and a popular gouernment? for vnto Pallas were these things dedicated. And Aristides the best man of life that euer was in Athens, vpbraided the Athenians with their rashnesse, who had condemned him for excecuting [Page 18] his charge faithfully, in not suffering the common treasure to be robbed & spoiled, and had had him in great loue and esti­mation, when he winked at the pilfries which he saw commit­ted, as though he had then worthily & faithfully discharged his duty. For a multitude is hard to be ruled, and other counsel is there none with them, than such as they bring of thēselues, misconceiued, misvnderstood, misiudged by passions; neither is there any thing so vnequall in a common-weale, as that is which they call equalitie of persons. All is there equall and euen, sauing their minds, which are as farre at oddes as may be. And yet notwithstanding, because things goe by the num­ber of voices, without weighing them otherwise, they passe alwaies with the most number, that is to say, with the fooli­shest opinion. In the citie of Athens, wise men propoūd, and fooles iudge. By reason whereof, Anacharsus said, that in the citie of Athens, wise men propounded matters, and fooles iudged of them. And Phocion wh [...]neuer agreed in opinion with the common people, hauing in open assembly deliuered an opinion that was liked of the whole multitude, insomuch that all the standers-by yeelded to his aduise; turned him­selfe to his friends and asked them, whether some fond thing had not escaped him in his speech vnawares. As touching the common-weale of Rome, albeit that the Romanes had con­quered the whole world by battell, yetnotwithstanding they were oftentimes ill gouerned, for all their good policie. For after that the kings were once expulsed, the citie was neuer without quarels, some while against the ten cōmissioners; ano­ther while the people against the Senat, and the Senat a­gainst the people; one while against the tribunes, and another while against the consuls: and nothing did euer vphold and maintaine the citie so much and so long, as the forreigne wars, which caused them to compound their quarrels at home, without the doing wherof they could neuer haue continued; for as soone as they had any vacation from forreigne warres, by and by they lost their libertie, and found from that time forth, that the opinion of Scipio Nasica was grounded vpon great rea­son, when he would not that Carthage should haue been de­stroyed, [Page 19] that it might haue kept Rome stil in hir rigo [...]t wirs, for in very deed, their couetousnesse and ambition bred cruell dissentions among them, which in the end did bring the ouer­throw of their State. Whether dis­sention be re­quisite in a common weale or no. And therefore I will not say but that dis­agreements are often times necessarie in a house, a kingdome, or a coimmon-weale, and that (as Onomademus said after the rebellon of the Island Chios) it is not behooffull to make cleane riddance of ell enemies, for feare least there should be dissention among friends. I am fully persuaded it is not amisse to suffer some enemies to spight one another, as well for the reason aforementioned, as also for that the enemies by their crossing one another, doe discouer their owne lewdnesse, co­uetousnesse, and ambition, to the benefit of the prince and of the common-weale; and yet notwithstanding are afraid to doe euil, least men should espie their doings and behauior. And (as saith Plutarch in the life of Pompey) the disagreement of two mightie citizens that are at variance among themselues, vpholds the common weale in equall ballance, like a staffe that is equallie charged at both the ends, so as it cannot sway one way or other. But come they once to ioine in one body, & to knit themselues together in one, then it maketh so great an inclination or sway, as no man can withs [...]and; insomuch that in the end, The friend­ship of Caesar and Pompey was the ouer­throw of the commonweale. they turne all things vpside downe, & therfore vn­to such as went about, complaining that the quarrell & enmi­tie of Caesar and Pompey, had ouerthrowne the common-weale, Cato said that they ouershot themselues very greatly in saying so, because it was not their discord and enmitie, but rather their friendship and good agreement that was the first and princi­pall cause therof. When Pope Iuly had made a league with the Venetians and the king of Arragon, against the French­men, many men commended his dealing, as wherby he meant to driue away the Frenchmen at the costs of the Spaniards, in hope to driue away the Spaniards afterward, when they had bin tired already by the Frenchmen. But the best adui­sed sort found this counsell to be pernicious vnto Italy, saying; that sith it was the hard hap of Italy, to haue both the ends [Page 20] thereof possessed by straungers, it was better for the coun­trie to haue them both continue there still, (because that as long as the one king was able to weigh euen with the o­ther, those that were not yet entered into bondage, should be able to maintaine their owne libertie) than that the Italians should be at warres among themselues, by means whereof so long as such warres continued, the parties that were yet whole and sound should be torne in pieces by sacking, burning, and o­ther miserable inconueniences, and finally he that gained the goale, would punish the whole country with the harder and irkesomer bondage. That was the cause why Pope Clement turned to the French kings side, bearing himselfe in hand, that as long as the emperour and the king continued both in Italy, the Apostolike sea should be vpheld by the power of either of thē; and therfore he would not suffer the kingdome of Na­ples and the duchie of Millan to fall both into one hand. Small dissentions forasmuch as they be intermingled both with perill and profit, cannot ouerthrow a state, but when the dissention is great, Great dissen­tion between ouer-great personages is dangerous to a state. and betweene great persons, it maketh strange tragedies, as did the dissentions betweene Marius and Silla, Pompey and Caesar. For hauing once gained and drawne vnto them the whole citie of Rome, and hauing weapon in hand, and men of warre at commaundement, they could hardly eschew, that their discord should not procure the ru­ine of the state. The enmitie that was betweene Aristides and Themistocles, had like to haue ouerthrowne the state of Athens: and when vpon a time they had nothing preuailed in an assembly by their quarelings, Themistocles returning thence in a great rage, said; that the common-weale of Athens could not continue in good state, vnlesse that he himselfe and Ari­stides were both cast downe. The enuie that some citizens bare vnto Alcibiades, was a cause of the destruction of A­thens. Likewise the state of Florence was in short time ouer­throwne by such partakings. The Romanes in time of dan­ger chose a dictator that had soueraign authoritie; but he was not to continue any long time, for feare least his ouer-great [Page 21] authoririe should turne into tyranny. When Cicero was Con­sull, there was giuen vnto him a greater authoritie than ordi­narie, in these words namelie, That he should haue a speciall care of the common-weale, that it incurred not any danger; and this was at such time as they perceiued the conspiracie of Catilin to hang ouer their heads. Cicero in this his time of authoritie, did put many noble men of Rome to death, being first atteinted and conuicted of high treason, which thing he could not otherwise haue done. The Senat perceiuing that the magistrats of Rome did not their duties, and that all went to hauoke, determined to chuse Pompey to be Consul alone, to reforme the common-weale: and of that mind also were Bibulus and the yonger Cato, howbeit that they liked not of Pompeys behauior and trade of life, saying it was much better to haue a Magistrat, be what he be may, than to haue none at all. The absolute gouernment is best and most certain. And this their vsing of the absolute maner of go­uernment by one alone in the times of danger, doth shew that they liked better of it, and esteemed it to be better and more certaine, than the maner of gouernment that was in Athens; and that they abhorred not so much the thing it selfe, as the name thereof. Also Mithridates king of Pontus said, That the Romanes hated their kings, because they were such as they were ashamed of, as namely Shepheards, Bird-gazers, Sooth-sayers, Outlawes, Bondmen, and (which was the fairest title of all) Vain-glorious and Proud. The Carthaginenses like­wise had but one Generall captaine of warre, whom they changed oftentimes. Contrariwise the Athenians chose ma­ny captains at once, The Atheni­ans had ma­ny Captains. Kingdomes haue been of longer conti­nuance, and made greater conquests than any o­ther state of gouernment. to lead their forces of warre. In respect whereof, Alexander maruelled how the Athenians could find euery yeare ten captains, seing that he himselfe in al his lands, could find but one good captain, which was Parmenio. Also we see that common-weales haue not made so great conquests as Monarchies haue done, except the common-weale of Rome, which brought all kingdomes vnder the dominion thereof: But for that one common-weale, ye haue many kingdomes which haue had greater possessions, and haue kept them a [Page 22] longer time. As for example, the kingdome of Assyria had mo Kingdomes and countries vnder the dominion thereof, than euer had the citie of Rome. The Romane empire lasted part­ly at Rome, and partly at Constantinople, about fifteene hun­dred yeares. The Empire of Almaine (which began vnder O­tho the second, about two hundred yeares after the coronation of Charlemaine) hath continued vnto this day: but yet in some things it sauoreth of the Aristocracie. The kingdome of France hath endured about a twelue hundred yeares. As for the do­minion of Venice, the gouernment wherof is an Aristocracie, is the Paragon of all Common-weales in the world, as which alonely may vant that it hath maintained his state the long­est time of all others, howbeit with such good lawes as were able to preserue it, as they well shewed vnto one of their ci­tizens, whom they dispatched out of his life without speaking any word vnto him, only because he was of authoritie and cre­dit to appease a certaine sedition or mutinie among the men of warre in their citie. And to say the truth, the thing that o­uerthrew the state of Rome, was the ouer-great authoritie which they suffered their citizens to beare.

Of a Tyrant.Now then, as a good king is a right excellent thing, so when he becommeth a tyrant, he is as excessiue a mischiefe. For the man that is set in that authoritie, hath power ouer mens per­sons to dispose of them at his pleasure: as Samuel told the Is­raelits when they chose their first king. And (as sayd Othanes) he peruerteth the lawes and the customs of the countrie, he rauisheth women, and he putteth folke to death without sen­tence of condemnation. If ye commend him modestly, he is discontented that ye doe it not excessiuely: and if you com­mend him out of measure, he is offended as though ye did it of flatterie. Policrates the tyrant of the Isle of Samos, made warre vpon all his neighbours without any respect; saying that he pleasured his friend the more in restoring to him that which he had taken from him, than if he had not taken ought from him first. Neuerthelesse, it behoueth a Prince to thinke that if he forget himselfe and doe not his dutie, ne performeth [Page 23] his charge as he ought to do; besides, that he shal yeeld an ac­count for it before him that gaue him that charge, A Tyrant sil­dome leaueth his kingdom to his posteri­tie. he shall not leaue his kingdome to his posteritie. Which thing Denis the tyrant of Siracuse did his son to vnderstand, rebuking him for the adulteries and other crimes that he had committed, and declaring vnto him, that he himselfe had not vsed such maner of dealing when he was of that age. Whereunto his sonne an­swered him, that he had not had a king to his father: neither shall you (quoth his father) haue a king to your son, except you doe better. And as he had said, so it came to passe. Peter king of Castile, for his tyrannie and wicked demeanor towards his subiects, was first driuen out of his realme by his bastard-bro­ther, aided with the helpe of such as hated Peter; and after­ward when he had recouered it againe, by the means of the blacke Prince, as soone as his brother the bastard came a­gaine with any force, all the countrie reuolted from him to the bastard, and the Spaniards that were with him would neither put on armor nor mount on horse-backe at his commaunde­ment; by reason whereof, he was faine to craue succour of strangers, and yet notwithstanding he lost the battell, & with the battell, both his kingdome and his life. Alfons the yonger, king of Naples, hauing done many tyrannicall deeds, fled di­shonorably out of his kingdome at the comming of Charles the 8. king of France; and (as Guicciardine reporteth) being tormen­ted with the sting of his owne conscience, found no rest of mind day nor night: for a night-times, those whom he had wronged appeared vnto him in his sleepe; & a day-times, he saw his people making insurrectiō against him, to be reuenged. His son also to whom he left the kingdome, felt himselfe pin­ched with the sins of his predecessors: for the Neapolitanes forsooke him as wel as his father, Why Tyrants are murthe­red rather than priuat household [...]rs, being both of them wicked. & turned to the French kings side. We see what befell to Roboam the son of king Salomon, for exacting too much vpon his subiects; & to the duke of Guy­en, (commonly called the blacke Prince) for raising a fowage in the country of Aquitane. Marcus Aurelius said, that the cause why God suffered wicked Princes to be murthered, ra­ther [Page 24] than other wicked men, is for that the priuat mans naugh­tinesse hurteth but himselfe and his owne familie, for want of abilitie to extend his naughtinesse any further; but the Prince that is tyrannous and wicked, ouerthroweth the whole Com­mon-weale. To conclude, the tyrannicall dominion is very dangerfull and noisome to all the people: but the kingdome that is gouerned according to law, passeth all other states of gouernment, be it in comfort of the people, or in the dura­blenesse of itselfe, or in making of great conquests.

CHAP. IIII. Whether the State of a Kingdome, or the State of a Pub­like-weale be the antienter.

MAnie be of opinion, that the Kinglie authoritie had his beginning from the people, and that the state of a Publike-weale was afore the state of a King. Of that opinion is Cicero in his bookes of Duties, saying that Kings were chosen at the first, for the good opinion that men had of them. And in another place he saith, That when folke found themselues harried and troden vnderfoot by the richersort, they were constrained to haue recourse to some man of excel­lent prowesse, to defend them from the oppression of the mightier sort, and to maintaine both great and small in a kind of equalitie. Of the same opinion likewise is Aristotle. Because the men of old time (saith he, were benefactors to the com­munaltie, either by the inuention and practise of arts, or by making warres in their behalf, or by assembling them to­gether into corporations, and by allotting them their terri­tories; the multitude did willinglie create them Kings, & so they conueyed their kingdomes ouer by succession to their [Page 25] posterities. Plinie saith, that the Athenians were the first that brought vp the popular gouernment, which neuerthelesse had been vsed long afore by the Iewes, as Iosephus witnesseth in his books of their antiquities. Indeede Thucidides in his first booke of the warres of Peloponnesus, saith, that when the countrie of Greece was become rich by reason of the nauigations, there stept vp euerie day new tyrants in the ci­ties, by reason of the greatnesse of their reuenues. For afore that time, the kings came in by Succession, and had their au­thorities, prerogatiues, and preheminences limited. Whereby he doth vs to vnderstand, that kingdomes were afore com­mon-weales, as indeed there is great likelihood that the state of a king was the foremost. And it is not to be doubted, but the first men that were after the the floud, when the earth was repeopled againe, did rule the lands which they possessed, first in their owne housholds, and afterward (when they were increased) in gouerning the whole off-spring that came of their race, as we see was done by Sem, Cham, Iaphet, Ianus, Go­mer, Samothes, and such others, of whom some reigned in the West, and some in the East. And Nembroth of Chams linage, Nembroth the first King. was the first that troubled his neighbours, by making warre vpon them, and the first that made himselfe a king, as S. Iohn Chrisostome affirmeth vpon the ninth of Genesis. For afore that time time there could be no king, because there were no store of people to be subiects. Also Abraham hauing a great houshold, tooke three hundred and eighteene of his owne men, and pursuing those that had spoiled Lot, discomfited them. The fathers of old time therefore hauing many slaues and seruants, which were multiplied afterward with the in­crease of their issue, had them at commaundement as a King hath his subiects. And of this opinion seemeth Iustine to be, in his abridgement of Trogus Pompeius; who saith in his first booke, That at the beginning euery nation and euerie citie was gouerned by kings; and that such as had none of their owne, did chuse one, either for the good opinion which they had of the person whom they chose, or for some good turne [Page 26] which they had receiued at his hand, or else for that they felt themselues misused by their head, whom they themselues had set ouer them, as it befell by the sonnes of Samuel, whose vniust behauior caused the Iews to demaund a King. Here is a faire field offred me, for the discoursing of this matter on ei­ther side, but it shall suffice me to haue had this speech fol­lowing at a glaunce.

CHAP. V. Whether it be better to haue a king by Succession, or by Election.

SOme there are that demaund, whether it be more behoofull and expedient for the welfare of a people, to haue a king by Election, or by Succession. For if ye proceed by Election, it is to be presu­med, that ye will choose the best, namely such a one as hath made good proofe of himselfe, and is knowne to be wise, fortunat, and valeant. Or if ye let it goe by Succession, it may be that the king shall be yoong, of small experience, and of little vnderstanding. And therefore Alexander knowing the dutie of a king, said; He would leaue his kingdome to the worthiest. Pirrhus being as­ked of his children to whom he would leaue his kingdome, answered, To him that of you all hath the sharpest sword; as if he should say, to him that is the most valeant. Whosoe­uer would maintaine this opinion, should haue reasons enow to vphold and defend it. Yet notwithstanding we ought to rest vpon the custome of the country, and not to swarue from it. Such as are wont to choose their king, do well and worthily therein. And yet the granting of a kingdome to goe by Suc­cesion, which also is a very generall custome in most coun­tries, Elections are causes of great warres. is not to be misliked. For oftentimes it falleth out, that [Page 27] Elections are a cause of many warres, as we haue seene in the Romane emperors. In the king­dome that goes by inhe­ritance there is no cause of warre. On the other side, when the kingdome goeth by succession, there is no quarrell or ciull warre, because it is knowne who ought to be king. For that cause did Ge [...]s­rike appoint by his will, that his children should exceed one another in the kingdome, so that after the death of his eldest sonne, dying without issue, the eldest next him should suc­ceede. And as long as that order was obserued among them, the kingdome continued in the race of Gensrike; as witnesseth Iordane in his historie of the Gothes. Moreouer, a father is de­sirous to leaue all things in best order to his children, the which thing tendeth alwaies to the publike commoditie. Contrariwise they that are chosen, endeuor rather to dimi­nish than to enlarge their kingdomes, because they shall not leaue them to their heires; and therefore they labor to draw all things to their owne peculiar profit, that they may leaue to their familie some frute of the kingdome wherto they were come; and therwithall they be bound to fauor and recom­pence their Electors, which cannot be done without expen­ses and charges to the common-weale. And it will not serue the purpose to say, that oftentimes it falleth out, that kings are yoong and vnder age, and consequentlie without authoritie, and without abilitie to gouerne themselues, and much lesse their people; or else that they be witlesse, or out of their wits, which is worse. For it is well knowne, that nothing is so well ordered in this world, nor any law so well stablished, which may not admit some inconuenience. But in this case the incounenience is such, A King that is vnder age ru­leth by his counsell. as may easily be remedied. For if a king be yoong, he hath a Counsell, by whom oftentimes he ruleth better than some old man that will needs do all things on his owne head; as we read of Iosias, who was crowned at se­uen yeares of age, and raigned forty yeares, in which time he did not any thing which was not to be done; so as the mino­ritie of his age, made him not to be the lesse honored & regar­ded. Herof we haue record in little Europus king of Macedo­nia, the presence of whom (notwithstanding that he lay in his [Page 28] cradle) caused his subiects to win the battell; and the Mace­donians said all with one voice, That when they fled afore, they wanted not corage, but their king; in whose presence they fought as manfully, as if he had beene of discretion to haue marked them that did well. And although we haue somtimes had warres by reason of the minoritie and debilitie of our kings as it happened in the times of S. Lewis, of Charles the sixt, and lastly of the late king Charles whom God pardon; yet may we well avow, that we neuer had so much harme therby, as the Romans had by their wicked emperors, that came in by Election, yea euen by the best taught of them, as Heliogabalus was, who being trained vp in all duties of honor and godlinesse, by Varia Mesa, did neuerthelesse become one of the wickedst creatures vnder the sunne. Wicked kings are sent of God for the sins of the people. And therefore we may well say, that it commeth of Gods will, who according to his threat­ning of the Israelites in old time, sendeth vs babes or fooles to be our gouernors, when he listeth to punish vs, and oftentimes princes well brought vp, but yet abiding in their wicked and il-disposed nature, such as were Tiberius, Nero, Caligula, and in­finit other mo. Neuerthelesse there is this difference, that the king which is of tender yeares, or simple-witted, hath his counsell, which notwithstanding that they be oftentimes at ods among themselues, omit not for all that, to giue him good counsel in most things. But as for the Prince that is of a froward nature, he beleueth nothing but that which is of his own head; neither giueth he himselfe to any thing else than to do mis­cheefe. I know wel that the minoritie of a prince is oftentimes the cause of many dissentions & partakings for the gouernmēt: The state of the time and of affaires, causeth ciuill warres. and that men stand not in so great awe of him, as of an elder person, that is well aduised. But yet the state of the time and of affaires, doth more in that behalfe, than all other things. For if they happen vnder a prince that is yong or simple-wit­ted, they procure great tragedies; and yet for all that they faile not to step in also euen vnder a king that is man-growne and well aduised. If Robert of Artois (who was the cause of all the misfortune that we had in France, by the Englishmen) [Page 29] had beene in the time of a young prince, men would haue said, that the small regard which he had of the princes age, had made him to despise him. And yet neuerthelesse, hauing to do with a king of full age and well experienced aforehand, he forbare not for all that, to make open warre vpon him, and to cause the English men to come into France, vpon a cho­ler and despite, for that Philip of Valois had adiudged the earledome of Artoys to his aunt. The king of Nauar had to do with a king of sufficient years, & with such a one as had not then tasted of such misfortune as he felt afterward by experi­ence, and yet notwithstanding hee forbare not to giue ma­ny proud attempts against him, to slea his constable, and to re­fuse to be at his commaundement, vntill the king had giuen him his sonne the earle of Aniou in hostage. At such time as Charles the fift was regent of France, the same king of Nauar, being vnderpropped by certain seditious persons of Paris, for­bare not to make warre vpon the said Charles, for all his wis­dome, puissance, and good gouernment. In the time of Charles the sixt, Priuat quar­rels caused the wars vn­der Charles the sixt. no such distresses & aduersities had befaln in France, but for the iarres that were betweene the houses of Burgun­die and Orleans. And therefore we must not impute the mis­fortune, so much to the vnskilfulnesse of the king, as to priuat quarrels, and to the troublesomnesse of the time wherein he raigned, which was such, that if they had had neuer so sage a prince, he should haue found himselfe very sore cumbred. Af­ter that Charles the seuenth had recouered all France, he was not so greatly redouted, nor so setled in peace, but there remai­ned vnto him some small ciuill warres. Lewis the eleuenth was a prince of sufficient wisdome, forecast, and age, to guide himselfe; and yet he could not turne away the warres from the common weale, which had not hapned vnder princes of vnripe years. For the gouernors of a yoong prince durst not to haue despised the greatmen openly, nor to haue defeated the antient officers, as he did; whereof insued euill vnto him. What would haue been said of the war in Germanie, if it had happened vnder a simple witted Emperour, seing it befell vn­der [Page 30] a prince of gouernment, fortunat, puissant, and well adui­sed? Men haue imputed our warres to the minoritie of the late king. But had he been much elder than he was, he could not haue preuented them, seing that to the discontentment of most men, the case stood vpon the state of religion, a matter sufficient (being so intermedled both with matters of state, and with priuat quarrels) to maintaine the tragedies that we haue seene. Therefore it behoueth vs to yeeld vnto custome, and to say with S. Paul, The hearts of kings are in the hand of God. That the power of a king commeth of God; and likewise with Salomon in his Prouerbs, That the heart of a king is in the hand of God; as is the course of wa­ters, and that he inclineth them which way he listeth. Some men like well of the kingdome that goes by Election; and othersome mislike not of the kingdome that goes by Inheri­tance. Both in the one and in the other, there be diuers incon­ueniences, and reasons enow both to commend them, and to discommend them.

CHAP. VI. Of the Education or bringing vp of a Prince.

LYcurgus the Law-maker of Lacedemon, being desirous to make his countriemen to loue vertue, and intending to shew them to the eye, as it were with his finger, that nature and custome be the means to atteine therto; vpon a time when they were assembled altogether in a place, to consult of the affaires of the citie, brought foorth before all the companie a couple of dogges, of one litter, of one dam, and of one syre; the which he had kept vp so diuersly, that the one of thē being altogether giuen to hunting, was extreamly sharp set vpon the prey, and the other being accustomed to the kit­chin, and to licke the dishes, had no desire at all to hunt. For proofe wherof, when he had set before thē a platter of porrage [Page 31] and a quicke Hare, by and by the one of them ran after the Hare, and the other stept to the porrage. Whereupon he said, Ye see here, O ye Lacedemonians, how these two dogges being both of one dam, & yet diuersly brought vp do resem­ble their bringing vp: euen so trainment and custome are means of great importance, to engender vertue in mens hearts. Which thing we cannot but rightly say of the educati­on of princes, Princes can­not be vertu­ous vnlesse they be lear­ned. which ought to be better learned than other men, and to beleeue that they cannot be vertuous, if they be not learned; but are like to a peece of ground, which be­ing neuer so good, becommeth barren if it be not husbandred; and contrariwise doth bring forth good fruit, being well tilled and composted, though of it selfe it be very bad. The bodie that is strong forgoeth his strength for want of exercise; and contrariwise, the man that is feeble and of weake complexi­on, becommeth strong by continuance of exercise and tra­uell. Plutarke in his booke of the bringing vp of children, saith; That to make a man perfect in vertue, there behoueth three things to concurre, namely; Nature, Reason, (that is to say, instruction or teaching) and Custome or Excercise. It is no wonder therfore though such as haue treated of the qualities that are requisit in Princes, hauing begun at their very cradle, & trained them vp from their first infancie. For the time most fit and conuenient for the doing thereof, is while they be yet tender & easie to bend; & of that first Education of theirs, wil they haue a tast euer after. For (as Horace saith) The bottle that hath licour of good sent put into it at the first, wil keepe the tang therof a long time. Among the authors of our time, Francis Petrarch hath written very largely therof, teaching of the nursing of a prince, of his keeping of company, of his tutors and teachers, of the maner how to make him a god horse­man, and consequently of good horses; of running, of wrest­ling, and of other exercises of the body; of shooting, of hun­ting, of hawking, and consequently of the nature of hawkes; of playing at tennis, and other pastimes; of husbandry, of Ge­ographie, and of Cosmographie. But my intent is not to traine [Page 32] vp a prince from his cradle to his tombe; but to gather such doings of theirs, as may serue them for good example, to the well gouerning of their people. Therefore as touching their bringing vp, I referre me to the things which are written by the said Petrarke, and afore him by Zenophon, Isocrates, Plu­tarch, and many others. Only thus much I say, That the prince which hath children ought to be carefull to bring them vp well in lerning and vertue. Good bring­ing vp mode­rateth mens affections.. For (as Plutarch affirmeth in the comparison of Agis and Gracchus) good Education modera­teth and stayeth a mans mind, not only in things of pleasure, by keeping him from passing the bounds of honesty and ho­nor, in word or deede, but also in matters of anger; and in the greatest heats of ambition and of desire of honor. Philip king of Macedon vowed his sonne vnto Aristotle as soon as he was borne, and afterward did put him happily into his hands; and he trained him vp in Philosophie. For good Education not only fashioneth a man, Good Educa­tion altereth a mans euill disposition. but also altereth his nature, as we read of Socrates, whom a professor of Phisnomie deemed to be full of all vices: and when the man was blamed for his misdee­ming; Socrates answered, that he had not failed in his Art, for by nature he said he was such a one as he reported him to be, but diligent heed and good Education had made him altoge­ther another man. The schoolemaister of Themistocles behol­ding his ready and quicke wit, told him aforehand, that he should one day doe either some great good or some great harme to his common-weale. And in very deede, at the first he was of a wauering mind, troublesome, and fleeting. But af­terward there was such a change in him, that when men asked him the cause of it, he answered, That fierce & rough horses become good if they be well taught & wel and orderly hand­led in the breaking. Wild horses become good by well hand­ling. Therefore the man that should be a princes tutor, ought to be a man of skill, and in any wise very honest, to keepe from him all flatterers, and to restraine him in his youth, from haunting the company of any other chil­dren, than of such as are honest and feare God; in which case men commonly faile. For they teach them to haue a good [Page 33] grace, to entertaine strangers courteously, to daunce well and to ride well: but after this geere there must be no speech of learning. I say not that tutors of sufficient skill to instruct, are not giuen vnto them: but that they stand them in no steed, And yet most commonly tutors are giuen them at the plea­sure of such as sue for it to the Prince, who grauuteth it vnto his minions, without respecting the sufficiencie of the person: wherein, as saith Plutarch, they deale in like sort, as if a sicke man to gratifie his friend, should leaue the good and skilfull Phisition that could heale him, and take one whose igno­rance would rid him out of his life. Now then, it behooueth a prince to make his choise of the greatest personage, and of best estimation in his realme. For it is no small matter to draw youth to a custome, Good Educa­tion in youth is the root of all goodensse. when it is tender. For as saith Plutarch, Good Education and instruction in youth, is the fountaine and roote of all goodnesse. And like as Gardeners do sticke vp proppes by their young graffes, to hold them vpright; euen so doe wise teachers plant good instructions and wholsome pre­cepts about yoong princes, to direct their maners vnto vertue. Therefore Salomon in his Prouerbs, commandeth vs to traine vp a child at the first entrance of his way, that he may not goe backe from it when hee is growne old. And in the seuenth chapter of Ecclesiasticus, If thou haue children, saith he, bring them vp in learning, and bow them while they be young. A­gaine, in the thirteeth chapter, Bow downe his necke, saith he, in his youth, and smite him on the side while he is a child, least he wax stubborne and herken not vnto thee: for he that nurtureth his child, shall haue ioy of him, yea and be com­mended for him among his houshold folke. A young prince of ne­uer so good a nature shall hardly doe any great thing▪ being not trained vp in vertue. For how good nature so euer a young prince be of, yet shall he hardly do any thing of valour, if he haue not beene trained and inured to vertue: as a horse that is not well broken, how good soeuer he be otherwise, becommeth stubborne and cumbersome, and contrariwise a iadish and restie colt becommeth a good horse, by well handling. My meaning is not to giue him such a tu­tor of skill and vertue, as dareth not giue him a crosse word, [Page 34] nor make him to stand in aw of him, and to obay him in all friendly maner. For it were as good to haue none at all, as to haue a tutor that is vnprofitable, that shall sing to one that is deafe, and point vnto one that is blind, which yeeldeth not his heart to his teachers intent, and his eares to the words of wisdome, as Salomon saith in his Prouerbs. One demaunded of a Philosopher, What was the cause that yoong men were vn­done? Because (saith he) their teachers forbore to compell them to doe well. Plutarch in his booke of the Education of princes, saith; That kings learne to doe nothing well, but on­ly to ride: and that is, because their schoolemasters which teach them, doe flatter them, and not correct them: whereas the horse discerning not who it is that sitteth on his backe, and therefore making no difference betweene a prince and a pri­uat person, spareth him not, but inforceth him to performe his charge, if he will not be in danger to be cast vpon the ground. But as for the schoolemaster that teacheth a prince, he neither can nor will compell him to any thing, but letteth him doe what he listeth; by reason whereof, a prince cannot be so well taught, as a man of meaner degree, that submitteth himselfe to correction. By what means a yong prince is to be drawne to learning and vertue. Neuerthelesse my meaning is not that the schoolemaister should vse the rod towards him, other­wise than as a searing-iron is vsed in surgerie, namely in cases of extreame necessitie, when all other remedies faile; but that he should deale with the yoong prince by all kind of gentle­nesse, & assay to draw him by fauor, rather than by force; as by praising him when he doth well, & by dispraising him when he doth euil, which are more auailable means towards childrē that are borne in fredome, as wel the one to draw them to wel doing, as the other to withdraw them from doing ill, than all the whipping and scourging that can be. Neuerthelesse, when being yet young, he is wilfull and stubborne, the schoolmaster is to be dispensed withall, to vse that remedie. For as Salomon saith in his prouerbs, The rod, and correction giue wis­dome. Folly is commonly tied to the heart of a child, but the chastisement of the rod riddeth him thereof; for the rod and correction giue wisdome. Correct thy child, [Page 35] (saith Salomon) and he will giue thee rest, yea and pleasure to thy heart. And in an other place, Withhold not chastise­ment from thy child, (saith he) for if thou smite him with the rod, he shall not die: if thou smite him with the rod, thou deliuerest his soule from hell. Therefore it behoueth to giue him good instruction in his youth, that his nature may bee re­formed if it bee euill, or maintained if it be good. A certaine Philosopher being asked vpon a time, Why many princes begin well and end ill. What was the cause that many princes begin wel, and end ill? Princes, quoth he, begin well, because they bee of good disposition by nature; and they end ill, because no man gainsaieth them. Whereof we cannot haue a better record than Nero, who behaued him­selfe like a good prince so long as Seneca was about him: but as soone as Seneca was sequestred from him, by and by he gaue himsefe ouer to all vice, for no man gainsaied him, and his flatterers soothed him in all things that he said; which kind of people, Children are to be kept from the company of flatterers. princes ought to shun as the plague. And as Plutarch saith, Children must be kept farre from the company of euill persons, and especially of flatterers, for there is not a more pe­stilent kind of men, or that more corrupteth youth, marring and vndoing both the fathers and the children, making the old age of the one, and the young age of the other, most mise­rable, by offering to them in their wicked counsels, a bait that cannot be auoided, namely, Voluptuousnesse; wherwith they allure them. When the flatterers are driuen away from the young prince, the tutor must haue a carefull eye, that those which are giuen him to be his playfellowes, be well borne. For with the good thou shalt bee good, and with the euill thou shalt be peruerted. The hating of lies. And aboue all things let young princes be accustomed to speake truth, and to hate lying, be it in earnest or in iest. For as Plutarch sayth, Lying is a slauish vice worthie to be hated of all men, and not to be pardoned euen in bond-slaues, who haue least honestie. Ye see then that the profit which a yoong child that is a prince by birth, reapeth, by being vnder a tutor that flattereth him not, is, that by keeping com­pany with young children that are vertuous, he shall learne to [Page 36] doe as they doe; and by his masters instruction he shall learne vertue, and therfore hauing chastisement and good bringing vp, and continuall exercise vnto vertue; it cannot be but he must hold himselfe to that education all his life after, and be worthie to commaund. The best way to learne rule is first to obay But let him further assure himselfe, that nothing doth so much teach him, both to doe well and to rule well, as to haue obayed. And surely the thing that trou­bleth most princes, and maketh them loath to take in good worth the good counsell that is giuen vnto them, is, that wher­as their schoolmasters ought to commaund them, they haue obayed them, and haue left them to do what they list at their pleasure. It is reported, that the thing which made Agesilaus a perfect gouernor, was, that from his infancie he had learned to obay. By reason wherof, he could better skill than any other king, to apply himselfe to his subiects, & to beare himselfe vp­right among them, forsomuch as vnto the royall maiesty and stately behauior of a prince, (which he had learned of nature) he had added courtesie and familiaritie, which he had got­ten by Education.

CHAP. VII. Of the end wherat a good Prince ought to aime in this life.

LL men in this world doe chuse in this life some certaine vocation, some to earne their liuing, (as Tailors by making apparell, Shoomakers, by making Shoes, Masons by building, and so foorth of other handicrafts;) some for delight that they haue to do some seruice to the common-weale, and therby to purchase praise, as the Orators, Iudges, and Lawyers did in old time, and some for both togither; as Phisitions. Some giue themselues to matters of state, Euery man is desirous to be the chiefe of his professi­on. and some to Chi­ualrie, and euery man is desirous to excell in his own trade, that he may receiue the gaine thereof, which is, to see, say, and esteme himselfe to be the cheefe of his profession.

[Page 37]There is not so simple a painter, ingrauer, or caruer, which is not desirous to match Polycletus, Lisippus, Appelles, Protogenes, Zeuxis, Phidias, Praxitiles, and such others, because they see that such men haue bin esteemed in the world, and haue pur­chased fame by their cunning. This maketh them to take as great paines as they can, to find the means to attaine to the sayd perfection, and not to spare either labour or cost to learn. The Physition looketh incontinently to his marke, which is to heale the sicke man; the Surgion looketh to the well laun­cing of a wound; and as for to know the anotamie of a mans body, there is not that thing which he doth not: he vnderta­keth to touch a dead corse, and to handle it, and to cut it in peeces, to see the cheefe parts, and to behold the veins, the muscles, the flesh-strings, and the knitters, to the end he may attaine to the full knowledge of his science. The end of the Orator is to plead well, and all his doings tend therevnto. He exerciseth himselfe in well pronouncing, and laboreth to haue a good gesture and countenance, as we read of Gracchus and o­ther Orators, and especially of Demosthenes, The pains that Demosthe­nes tooke to become an Orator. who to frame himselfe to a good gesture, would resort into a Cabinet which he had purposely made in the ground to that end, where he abode two or three whole months, causing the one halfe of his head to be shauen off, that he might not for shame goe abroad in that plight. And to abate the impediment of his toung which was thicke, he amended it by putting little stones in his mouth, and by pronouncing some orations so with his mouth full. And to strengthen his voice, which was small and feeble, he vsed to run vp against rough hils, pronouncing some verses which he could by hearte. In old time wrestlers and sword-players tooke no care, but how they might harden themselues to indure trauell, dietting themselues thereafter, and absteining from delicate fare, that they might obtaine the honor of one day. Euen so after their example, a good prince ought not to spare himselfe a whit, for the obteining of a grea­ter commendation than theirs, by making himselfe worthie of his charge. For it is a strange sight to see such a one com­maund, [Page 38] as ought to be commaunded, and can no skill how to gouerne folke; for it is all one, as if a man should see one made a Pilot of a ship, which can no skill at all of sayling. And ther­fore Dauid willeth kings to learne, seing they be iudges of the earth.

The way to learning is to descend into a mans selfe.Now to learne wel, a man must first descend into himselfe, as saith Persius, that is to say, he must examine and trie him­selfe, that he may know himselfe. And of knowing a mans selfe, there are two sorts; the first consisteth in contemplati­on, when a man beholdeth his owne being as in a mirrour, that is to say; when he considereth what he is in very deed, that hee fall not into ignorance the mother of all euill. Now the very being of a man indeede, is his soule, where­unto the bodie belongeth, as a garment that is made for the bodie. Hardly therefore shall we discerne what is ours, vnlesse we first know our selues. And most requisit is this contemplation for kings, who haue their soueraine authoritie from God. For it will make them both fortunat and wise in gouernment, as well of houshold, as of publike state, as I will declare more at large hereafter.

The other kind of knowing a mans selfe, (as Plato in his Philebus hath right well noted) is, when hauing first considered the very man it selfe, which is the soule, we after­ward also behold the shadow and figure thereof, that is to say, the bodie, with the goods and abilities which God hath distributed vnto vs in this world. For we cannot vndertake any goodly or great things, vnlesse the goods both of the bo­dy and of fortune, be aunswerable vnto the goods of the mind. And (as saith Menander) Thou knowest thy selfe if thou take heede to thy dealings, so as thou doest what thou oughtest to doe.

A prince ought to con­sider his owne abilitie.Therefore it behoueth a prince to know his owne abilitie, and what he hath wherewith to make warre, whether it be in assailing or in defending. For whosoeuer should enterprise a warre without monie, might haue this saying ver [...]fied of him, which Quintius the Romane captaine said of Phil [...]pae­men, [Page 39] namely, that he had arms and legs, but wanted a bellie; meaning that he had store of men both on foot and on horse­backe, but he wanted money. And as it is to no purpose to haue men, without money, which is the sinewes of warre; so is it nothing worth to haue money, without men of warre.

Also we may say, A prince must be affa­ble, retaining the maiestie of his person and state. that a king knowes himselfe, when he behaueth himselfe according to his degree, yeelding himselfe gentle and affable to all men, howbeit retaining that which belongeth to the maiesty of a king, least his ouer-great fami­liaritie ingender contempt. That was the cause why, Alexan­der refused to runne at the gamings of Olimpus, though he was esteemed one of the best runners in that assembly; answering his father (who had moued him to put forth himselfe into the lists to obtaine the honor of winning the reward of so ho­norable a wager) I would willingly doe your commandement, if I had kings or kings sons to run and wrestle with me: estee­ming it an vnseemly thing for him, being the sonne of a great king, to meddle with such as were not his matches. For the king that abaseth himselfe too much, is counted to dishonour himselfe as much as he that is proud; like Nero who plaied the Wagoner, the Minstrel, and the Iester; for doing wherof he was so far off from being loued or esteemed, that he was rather hated and despised for it of all men.

Now then, after that a prince hath throughly viewed him­selfe both within and without; he cannot but vnderstand what his charge is, the which consisteth in two things, name­ly in matters of peace, and in matters of warre; both which parts are so necessarie for him, that he cannot seperate the one frō the other. For (as saith Thucidides) Peace is established by warre; neither is a man sure to be out of danger, when he is at rest and without warre. It is not inough then to haue good or­der for the gouerning of his country, vnlesse he also haue for­ces in a readinesse to succour his friends, to resist his enemies, and to subdue rebels. As touching ciuil gouernment, I will speake inough of it throughout all▪ this discourse; A prince ought to be a Warriour. and as touching the case of warre, I say that a prince ought to [Page 40] giue himselfe to ch [...]lualrie, as much as possibly he can, and that if he doe not so, he shall be subiect to contempt of his neighbours, and consequently be constrained to haue warre whether he will or no. Therefore it standeth him on hand to be a warrior himselfe, and to haue his people trained to the warres, and sometimes also to make warre that he may haue peace; and contrariwise in warre to mind peace. For as the Emperor Traiane said, The enemies of peace are ouercome by warre. God suffereth none to be vanquished in battell, but such as are enemies of peace. And we see by experience, that those which are eagre in seeking warre, doe commonly worke their own ouerthrow, as Pirrhus did in old time, and as Charles duke of Burgoine did a little while ago. But if a prince be compelled to enter into warre, it behooueth him to let the world vnderstand, what skill and cunning he hath in feats of armes, and what delight he hath in repulsing wrongfull warre, whereinto hee must enter with a braue courage, vnastonied; as Plutarch writeth of Sertorius, whom he reporteth to haue beene meeld and gentle in matters of peace, and dreadfull in preparatiue of warre against his enemies. Wherefore a prince ought to de­meane himselfe in such sort, Warre must not be made but for to establish peace. that knowing the means how to carrie himselfe vpright in both the times, he may be disposed to warre if need require, and yet vse it but to the attainment of peace, which ought alwaies to be preferred, as rest is to be preferred before trauell. For some loue warre too much, and some againe doe shun it too much. In the one point Marius made default, and in the other Perseus. For Marius being vn­fit to liue in peace, as one that could no skill of ciuill af­faires; sowed dissention the seed of warre without purpose. Insomuch that when he was at Rome in peace, he had not the grace to entertaine men amiably, and to gather them to him by courtesie, for want of gifts and qualities requisit for ciuill affaires. By reason whereof, men made no further account of him, than of an old harnesse, or of a toole that was good for nothing else but only for warre. On the contrarie part, Perseus suffered his state to goe to wracke for want of intending to [Page 41] warre-matters, and for that he loued better to keepe his mo­ny for the Romans, than to lay it out in waging men of war for his own defence. For he loued not war, nor defended himselfe but very sleightly; and therefore was he bereft of his king­dome, and vtterly spoiled of all his treasures.

Many other Prin [...]s haue falne from their estate, Kings haue lost their states, for want of ap­plying them­selues to the warres. for want of giuing themselues to the warres; among which number, Sardanapalus and Childerike may serue vs for example. The thing that made Vindex and Galba to conspire against Nero, was the contempt which they had of him, for his giuing of himselfe wholy ouer vnto voluptuousnesse, and for his despi­sing of the exercise of warre.

Pepin durst not to haue set his princes diademe vpon his owne head, if Childerike had loued armes as well as he. But for as much as Pepin had weapon in hand, and men of warre at his deuotion, and whatsoeuer else was requisit for a good captain, it was an easie matter for him to bring his enterprise to passe. Francis Sfortia by his valiancie in armes, rose from a simple souldier to be duke of Millan; and the children of princes and dukes, Captains des­pise them that loue not chiluarie. haue become meane gentlemen. Men of warre do ordinarily follow those whome they loue and esteeme, admi­ring good and valeant captains, and cōtrariwise despising those that loue not chiualrie. And therevpon it commeth to passe, that the prince which knoweth his neighbour to be vnfit for warre, and vnprouided of sufficient force to withstand him, doth easily setforth into the field to ouercome him, and com­monly he carrieth away the victorie. It is no rea­son that the man that is well armed should yeeld to him that is vnarmed. For it is no reason that the man which is well armed, should obey him that is vnar­med. My intent is not to inferre hereupon, that a prince should make warre without cause, or imagine that he ought not to enter, but by force of arms. For as Cicero sayth in his booke of Duties, a prince ought neuer to resort to weapon, but when no reason can otherwise be had, or when he is to defend himself, which is the law of nature.

For as for him that maketh warre vnder pretence of some smal profit, he is like to him, who (as Augustus said) doth angle [Page 42] wirh a hooke of gold, the losse whereof is greater than the gaine of the fish that is to be caught, can be woorth. There­fore a prince ought, not to make war without aduisement; but yet must he put himselfe alwaies in a readinesse, if hee should chaunce to be enforced thereto. For if war be not foreseene and well prouided for, with men and armour, it worketh small effect in time of need.

The things that are to be done in war, are to be lear­ned afore hād at leisure.A man of warre (saith Cassiodorus) must learne aforehand the things which he hath to do when war commeth. And as Xenophon saith in is Education of king Cyrus, It is no time for a prince to make his prouision, when necessitie is come vpon him; but he must lay for his matters afore-hand, afore necessi­tie come. Now, that he may be the readier in all things, and especially in men of warre; it behoueth him to haue a good number of men well trained aforehand, after the manner that the Macedonians had their Siluer-shields, the Romans their Legionaries, the Souldans of Aegypt their Mamelukes, the Turks their Ianissaries, Francis and Henrie, kings of France, the old bands of Piemount, and the emperour Charles the fift the Spaniards. Princes must inure them­selues & their subiects to the exercise of arms. Besides this, a prince ought to inure himselfe and his subiects together, to all exercises of armes; as to run well with a lawnce, to mount on horseback handsomly, and to ma­nage him cunningly, to traile the pike, to shoote in long-bow, crosse-bow, and gun, to vault, to leape, to wrestle, and to han­dle all manner of weapons, so as they may serue their turne in time and place.

For such things do not only procure skilfulnesse, but also make mens bodies the more strong and nimble, and the bet­ter able to endure trauell. And therefore the Romanes could well skill to practise them in a certaine place which was cal­led Mars his field, where all such exercises were put in vre.

Whether the common peo­ple be to bee trained to the wars, or no.I know well, that among them that haue the managing of the state in France, it is held for an heresie to say, that the common people are to be trained to the warres; but I find the reasons of Seissell, and William Bellay to bee of more force, [Page 43] than the reasons that are commonly alleaged to the contra­rie; specially in France, where the king behauing himselfe as a king, is honoured, feared, and beloued.

And we may see plainly, that this people, as vntrained as they be, are so well fleshed one against another, that they for­beare not to enter into armes, to their owne destruction, and call in strangers to finish this worke, and that with so great losse, that it were much more for the behoofe of the realme, that they themselues were better trained to warre, and more inured to it long afore-hand, that they might forbeare the strangers.

For if it should happen the king to loose one battell in his realme, he should find what a hinderance it would bee vnto him, that he were not able to make vp his army againe, other­wise than of strangers.

It is well knowne in what danger the Carthaginenses fell oftentimes, by reason of strangers, who meant to haue ouer­throwne their state, by rebelling against them; and that if the Carthaginenses themselues had bene trained to the warres, Scipio had not defeated them so easily as hee did, no more than it lay in the power of Pyrrhus to defeat the Romanes. For when hee had ouercome them in two battels, hee sayd, he had bene vndone, if he had had one other battell more to win of the like price; considering that his men were so great­ly diminished by those battails, that hee grew vveake, euen to the view of the eye, because he had no meane to make vp his armie againe with othermen; whereas on the contrarie part, the Romanes did easily supplie their armie with new souldiers whome they caused to come from their citie when need was, as from a quicke spring, whereof they had the head in their own house.

The Switzers & Almains being called into Italy, one while by the Pope and Italians, and otherwhile by the Frenchmen, ouermastred those that waged thē, & through their wilfulnes made them to lose the whole countrie in short space, by their [Page 44] returning home or by their fighting, against the will of the Generall of the host.

There is yet one other kind of exercise which serueth gret­ly to the state of souldierfare; for it inureth the body to paine, and therewithall acquainteth men with the natures and scitu­ations of places, which is profitable two waies: first, men learn thereby to know their own countrie, and by that mean to dis­cerne the platforme of any other place that differeth not from it; for the knowledge of one countrie, is a great furtherance to the practise of another. Plutarch writeth that when Sertorius found any leisure, he rode continually a hunting, and coursed vp and downe the fields, whereby he got great experience and furtherance in skill, to shift himselfe handsomly and readily from shrewd passages, when he was pressed by his enemies: and on the other side, to enclose them when hee had the ad­uantage of them, and to discerne where a man might passe a­way, and where not.

A profitable discourse con­cerning Phi­lopoemen. Philopemen prince of Athens, during the times that he had peace, did set his mind wholy vpon such means as it behoued him to vse in time of war, propounding to his friends as hee trauelled on the way, by what means he might assaile his ene­mies if they were incamped neere hand thereabouts, and in what order he were to pursue or to retyre. And in deuising af­ter this manner, he heard their opinion, and told them his, set­ting downe all the accidents that could happen in a campe; by means whereof, he attained to a certaine resolutnesse and readinesse in feats of warre. Likewise Bookes doe woonderfull seruice to a prince in that behalfe, as shall be sayd in another place.

And in any wise he must propose to himselfe some excel­lent personage, as a paterne to follow; after which maner A­lexander proposed Achilles for his patterne; Iulius Caesar pro­posed Alexander; and Scipio proposed Cyrus. To conclude, a prince must vnderstand ciuil affairs, that he may doe euery man right, and keepe the weaker sort from being troden vnder foot by the mightier. And he must haue skill in martiall deeds, [Page 45] that he may defend his people from strangers, and maintaine his own estate.

CHAP. VIII. What is requisit in a Prince to make him happie.

FOr as much as I haue begun to shew the end whereat a Prince should aime, it be­houeth me to prosecute this end to per­fection, and to make the Prince happie whom we treat of For commonly all our actions tend vnto blessednesse and felici­tie, which is the ground and foundation of all good things, and is set afore vs for a crowne and reward of our hope, as saith S. Iohn Chrisostome vpon the first Psalme of Dauid. Neuerthe­lesse, in seeking this happinesse we be often beguiled, taking those to be happie, What the so­uereigne good is. which indeed are vnhappie, for want of knowing wherein that blessed felicitie consisteth. Wherein I mind not to follow the Diuines, which place the souereigne good, and likewise the cheefe euill, without the compasse of this life, because this life is turmoiled with so many mischiefs, that it is not possible to find the souereigne good in this world, and to attaine vnto the true felicitie by our own industrie and diligence. For, as the Psalmist sayth, The thoughts of men are vaine; and so doth also S. Austine teach vs, in his 19 booke of the citie of God, where he disputeth against all the Philoso­phers of old time, which placed the souereigne good either in the soule, or in the body, or in both together; in pleasure, or in vertue, or in both together; concluding, That the euerlasting life is the souereigne good, and the euerlasting death the soue­reigne euill; for the auoiding of the one whereof, and for the obtaining of the other, it behoueth vs to liue wel, and by faith to seeke the souereigne Good, which we cannot see now, but we liue in hope to see it hereafter.

[Page 46]Now then, for the present time we will omit the true and only perfect blessednesse, and rest vpon the worldly happi­nesse, seeking that which is most beautifull, most acceptable, and most happie in this world, which thing some doe place in pleasure, some in profit, and some in both together. For as the Poet saith, That man hath atteined to full perfection, which matcheth pleasure with profit. But the matter is to know, Wherin the happinesse of princes may consist. what is pleasure and what is profit, and by what means a man may attaine to it, that it may become sound, substanti­all, and durable. So soone as a kingdome is falne to a prince by Succession or Election, by and by he is counted happie, be­cause he is honored and followed of all men, and may doe his pleasure with his seruants, and take his pleasure of them as much as he can wish.

In old time, Cressus seing himselfe peaceably possessed of a goodly rich kingdome, plentifully stored with gold and siluer, which he tooke out of Pactolus, a riuer of Lidia, gazed vpon himselfe in his fortunatenesse and great riches; and hauing inuited thither Solon, one of the seuen sages of Greece, de­maunded of him, if euer he had seene a more happie prince. But Solon making no reckoning of his riches, preferred before him an Athenian named, Tellus; and in the end told him, That no man could be esteemed happy in deed afore he were dead; because that in this life many mishaps come vpon vs, which disturb our ease, welfare, and quietnesse. And so befell it to that king, for he was taken by Cyrus, and lost his kingdome, and was put in danger of being burned quicke.

This sheweth vs sufficiently, that we cannot stay our selues vpon such maner of blessednesse, seing it accompanieth vs not any longer than while we be in this life. And therefore we must seeke it further off. To become happy, we must seeke perfection. Al such as haue writtē of blessednesse, say, That to be happie we must seeke perfection. For no man can be termed happy, vnlesse he haue throughly attained to the ful measure of al good fortune & blessednesse. And perfe­ctiō as saith Aristotle is the thing that is taken & chose for the good that is therin, & not for any other thing; for albeit that [Page 47] the desire which we haue to be honored, and to be of a good mind, and to haue vertue it selfe, be things worthie to be desi­red without any other stay, yet our wishing of them is cheefly for that we thinke we shall by means of them be come happy. And so blessednesse and faelicitie lie in all actions that are ver­tuous. Therefore to attaine therunto, Felicitie lieth in all vertu­ous actions. it behoueth a man to be vertuous. Moreouer I say, that in this world there are three kinds of goods, which make vs well contented and happie: The one sort commeth of fortune, as to be rich or honora­ble; another sort is of those which we terme the goods of the body, as beautie, strength, health, and actiuitie. And the third sort is of those which we call the goods of the mind, as scien­ces and vertues. As touching the goods of fortune; for as much as they easily admit change, and we see ordinarilie how rich men become poore, and poore men rich; the happy and blessed state cannot be in them. Besides that, it falleth out of­tentimes, that the richest and greatest lords are neither well contented, nor well at ease. Likewise the goods of the body cannot make vs happy. For what is a man the better for being faire and in good health, if he be a beggar or a vitious person? Therefore it is to be concluded, that forasmuch as the mind is more excellent than the body and all worldly goods, the blessed state consisteth in the goods of the mind: that is to wit, in knowledge and vertue; which neuer forsaking vs, doe yeeld vs continuall pleasure and contentment. Riches with­out vertue be like a feast without any man to eat it. In respect wherof, Antisthenes said, That riches without vertue, yeelded as much pleasure, as a banquet without any body at it. Deme­trius hauing taken Megara, demaunded of Stilpon the Philo­sopher, whether his men of warre had taken any thing of his away or no? and Stilpon answered him no: for no man hath be­reft me of my knowledg. Bias one of the sages of Greece, made the like answere when he was demaunded, Why he carried not away his goods, as other of his citizens did at their flee­ing out of the citie then newlie taken? I carrie all my goods with me, quoth he; meaning his knowledge and vertue, wher­in he thought all his welfare to consist. Aristippus hauing lost [Page 48] all that he had by ship-wracke, and being cast vpon the coast of the Rhodes by a tempest, after he had disputed with­in the schooles of Philosophie there, was forthwith plentiful­ly rewarded with great store of presents by the Rhodians, and set againe in very good furniture. And because he deter­mined to abide among them, he said vnto his friends that re­turned home, that he could not tell how to doe better, than to bestow such things vpon their children, as might purchase them possessions that might be saued with their persons, if they escaped shipwracke. Meaning, to gather therevpon, that the true riches of this life, Which are the true ri­ches. are those which neither the con­trarie blasts of fortune, nor the change of estate, nor waries can appaire. Also Socrates being asked by Gorgius, what opinion he had of the great king, (that was a title which they gaue to the king of Persia) and whether he thought him not to be very happie: answered, I know not how he is prouided of know­ledge and vertue; meaning, that the true felicitie consisteth in those two things, and not in the slightfull goods of fortune. Hereby ye may vnderstand, that that prince is right happie, which hath his mind well instructed and well giuen to al ver­tue. For of knowledge and vertue, spring sobrietie and wis­dome; and wisdome findeth the way to gouerne well his kingdome, of which gouernment ensueth both pleasure and profit, as shall easily appeare hereafter.

Of profit.And first of all I will speake of Profit as of the lesser; and afterward I will come to Pleasure. Many doe deeme this profit to consist in the enlarging of a mans lordship or domini­on, by seazing vpon the next cities, or by laying an impost by the prince vpon all sorts of impostes. But the things that are gotten by euill means cannot be called Profit. As touching the incroching vpon neighbours, it is not easily to be done, if they be of any power; and oftentimes the sauce costeth more than the meat is worth. And to take more than ordinarie of the subiects, or more than the agreement made by oath be­tweene him and his people will beare, cannot be done with honor. Besides that the impouerishing of his subiects is the [Page 49] impouerishing of himselfe, because his treasure is in their goods; yea, and in the end, for all his exacting, he findeth himselfe no more eased, than those that content themselues with the meane. Nero, Domitian, Caligula, and other wicked Emperors, found not themselues any whit the richer for all the charges that they laid vpon their people, neither gained they any thing by it but infamie, with losse both of life and Empire. On the contrarie part, Traian, Antonine, and other good emperors, liued in honor and loue of their subiects, left behind them immortall praise, and got more reputation than those monsters of mankind. Those good princes loued their people, and kept themselues well from incroching vpon their neighbours; and yet they could well skill how to chastise them, when they durst enterprise any warre against them. Al­beit that Augustus was the happiest prince of all the world; yet would he not make any warre, or put his fortune in triall all his life long. For after he had once obtained to sit in peace, he busied not his head about the getting of one foot of land more, mocking at great Alexander, whom it greeued to consi­der what he should doe, when he had conquered the whole world; as who would say, there were not as much paine or more in the well keeping of things, as is in the getting of them. King Pirrhus got inough, but he lost as fast as got; and his couetousnesse was not so strong and gaping after the things that he hoped for, as he was forgetfull to set sure guard vpon that which he had gotten. In respect whereof, Antigonus likened him to a plaier at dice, whom the dice fauored verie much, but he could no skill to make his hand of his good chaunce.

The good husbandrie that Augustus and other good em­perors vsed, was to entertaine men of warre, to pay them well their wages, to make them obserue the law of arms, to doe iu­stice to the people, to ease them of their subsidies & impositi­ons, and to beautifie the citie of Rome with temples & goodly buildings. The wise king of France did the like, amōg whom by the common voice of the people, Lewis the eleuenth did [Page 50] beare away the bel, as who by the common consent of al men was called, The father of the people. The great warres which he had in Italy for his duchie of Millan, could not make him to ouercharge his people; he demaunded not any subsidies of them, to inrich perticular persons; he encreaced not his talla­ges for all the warres he had; to be short, he esteemed notary riches, or any conquest to be greater, than to win the good will of his subiects, and to see them rich: whereby he left a woon­derfull treasure to his successor, wherwith he could wel helpe himselfe in his affairs. Thus ye see wherein consisteth a prin­ces profit, namely, in keeping and defending well his lands and subiects, and sometime in enlarging his bounds, when hee is driuen to enter into armes for his owne defence. Of Pleasure. Wherein if there be profit, surely there is also no lesse pleasure. For the commendation that is gotten by well gouerning, doth woon­derfully content a noble-minded prince; whereof I am now to speake, as of the thing that most rauisheth our minds, and draweth vs most vnto it. I wil not speake here after the maner of the Stoiks, who hauing no regard to our maner of speech, vphold by many good reasons, that the thing which is good, is faire; and that the thing which is euill, is foule; and that there is not only other good, or any other pleasure, than vertue, which of it selfe alone sufficeth to the making of a happie life, as Cice­ro hath proued in his Paradoxes. But I will speake after the maner of the Academiks, who vnto the goods of the mind haue added the goods of the body and of fortune, as helpes to lead a happie life.

But all the difficultie is to find this pleasure. For the coue­tous man deemeth it a great pleasure, to be shut vp alone in a chamber with a great heape of monie. The ambitious estee­meth it a great pleasure, to haue a great traine of men follow­ing him. Another thinks it a pleasure to sit at banquet, laugh­ing incessantly, and making good cheare: To be short, euery man measureth this pleasure after his owne fancie, howbeit that that vvhich is pleasure to some, is displeasure to other some.

[Page 51]And that is, because this pleasure proceedeth not from the fountaine of vertue, but from the well of voluptuousnesse, which ingendreth deceitfull lusts in vs, after the manner of such as haue the hungry disease, and the consumption, who are alwaies hungry by reason of a certaine sharpe and biting humour, which causeth hunger, and an vnordinate appetite. And like as some women, when they be with child, delight to eat naughtie meats, euen so the diseased mind, by reason of the voluptuous humour that is therin, seeketh the things that are noisome to it, and whereof they be soone wearie. Insomuch that whosoeuer looketh neerly into the matter, shall find that the things which are commonly esteemed for pleasure, doe oftentimes turne to displeasure. This caused Plato to say, that we must behold pleasure, Pleasure is to be considered by hir going away. not at hir comming towards vs, but at hir going away from vs. For when we looke vpon hir at hir first comming in sight, nothing is so beautifull; but at hir going away, shee is as foule and loathsome to behold as is possible.

And as Varia Mesa said vnto the emperor Heliogabalus, Naturally vice delighteth the body when it is in committing; but by and by after ensueth repentance in the necke of it. But as for vertue, besides that it displeaseth not the bodie, it lea­ueth alwaies a good tast and contentment behind it, which endureth perpetually. And how much soeuer a prince would plunge himselfe in all manner of worldly pleasure, he could not haue the aduantage thereof, so much as a subiect of his that were of some meane wealth. For such a one may haue as great pleasure as a king, in eating and drin­king, in apparell and lodging for his owne person, in hunting at his pleasure, in musicke, and in all other delights.

Againe, because a prince hath greater conceits than a com­mon person, hee taketh no great pleasure in such thinges, but serueth is turne with them as we doe with sleepe, to re­fresh and recreat his spirits, that haue bene ouerstrained in matters of state, and for that cause hee laugheth, hee plaieth, he daunceth. But if he should bee demaunded vvherein [Page 52] he taketh most pleasure; I beleeue he would answer with A­lexander, That he could not find a finer song or a pleasanter musicke, than to heare the singing of his owne praises; nor haue a more goodly exercise or a more delightfull pastime, than to gouerne his kingdome well: and as Plutarke sayth in his treatise intitled, Whether an old foreworne man ought to deale in matters of a common-weale: let vs graunt to Xeno­phon that there is not a sweeter thing, than to heare a mans owne praises.

The pleasure that commeth of the beholding of the things that are done in a Common-weale.But in my iudgement, there is no present sight, no memorie of things past, no delightfull conceit, that yeeldeth so great pleasure, as the contemplation of the things that are done in a publick-weale, as in an open spectacle. The pleasure then of euery gentlemanly heart, and especially of a prince, tēdeth to honor, to glory, to reputation, that his name may be spread a­broad with renowne ouer all the earth, and that he may be e­steemed wise and vertuous. A good name is a sweet sent or sauor. And to shew that the pleasure of a good renowne passeth all other things, Salomon saith, That a good name excelleth all the precious ointments in the world. And in other places, the holy scriptures termeth a good name a sweet sent or sauor; as who would say, there were not a swe­ter or pleasanter thing in the world than that.

As touching the report to be a good warrior, it cannot bee common to all, because it dependeth vpon fortune, and is got­ten oft times by doing wrong. But as for the renowne of being vertuous, the more certaine and rare it is, the more also is it to be sought. Euery man cannot haue the good fortune of Sylla and of Augustus, nor be a conqueror as was Alexander, but eue­ry man may be vertuous, that will take paine to attaine vnto it. Ferdinand king of Naples, The wise say­ing of king Ferdinand. was woont to say, That to be a king, is a thing that most commonly dependeth vpon Fortune; but to be such a king as may be reported in all respects to bee the welfare and felicitie of his people, that dependeth alonly vpon himselfe, and vpon his owne vertue. Plutarch saith, that Lucullus did more esteeme & desire the praises that proceded of goodnesse, iustice, and clemēcie, than the praises that sprang [Page 53] and proceeded of hault and great deeds of chiualrie, because that in these, his armie had one part, and fortune had another part, as well as he; but the other were peculiar to himselfe a­lone.

Againe, in them he receiued the fruit he had deserued, so winning the hearts of his enemies by his behauior, that many of them did willingly put themselues and all their goods into his hands. All princes are iealous of their honor. We see how Alexander was curious in procuring himselfe that report; and that all princes both good and bad without exception, couet the reputation of good and vertu­ous men; but the euill princes cannot obtaine it, because they be not the same that they would be taken to be, whereas the meane to atteine to perfect praise, is (as Socrates saith) to be such a one in deed, as a man would be esteemed to be. And Antisthenes saith, there is but one way to attaine to immor­tall fame, and that is to liue vprightly and religiously. For how faire a face soeuer a man setteth vpon the matter, in the end he is discouered, and nothing is so hidden which shall not be laid open. And like as a Phisition is not the more esteemed for being a doctor in phisicke, if he haue no skill in phisicke, nor an Aduocate for his doctorship in the law, if he want know­ledge, experience, and practise in the law: euen so it is not to be thought, that a prince can be had in estimation if he be not a good man, and such a one as endeuoreth to rule his people well. Men must be such as they would seeme to be. For if a prince be not the same that he would seeme to be, it is all one (as Cirus said to Cambyses his sonne) as if one be­ing no good Tilman, no good Phisition, no good Musition, nor skilfull in any other art or trade, will neuerthelesse needs seeme to be such a one. For besides the paine that he shall procure to himselfe in practising with his friends to giue him commendation and renowne, and in prouiding the instru­ments fit for euerie of these Arts, he may perchance deceiue the world for a time; but in the end when he commeth to the proofe of his skill, he shalbe laughed to skorne as an igno­rant boaster. Nero and Tiberius were counted vertuous prin­ces in the beginning of their raigns: but in the end, they were [Page 54] taken for vnkindly monsters, wicked, and vnworthie to be had in remembrance among men. Wherefore if a prince will haue pleasure, it behoueth him to be vertuous; for other­wise he will loose his pleasure, that is to say, his honor, wherof he is so zealous, and which is preferred by Salomon before all the things in the world. There is store inough of euill princes, which haue intitled themselues Fathers of the people, good, vertuous, and such other like, and which haue caused those stiles of theirs to be grauen in stone and brasse, against whom their people taking iust displeasure, haue neuerthelesse defa­ced those titles of theirs: but the memorie of their wicked dea­lings haue abidden ingraued in the hearts of their posteritie. On the contrarie part, such as were good men, haue not only beene esteemed, but also worshipped as Gods, as Theseus, Her­cules and others. Insomuch that Plinie saith, That the God of men is a helper of men, and that to doe good vnto men, is the way to attaine to endlesse glorie, the which way the greatest personages of Rome walked; and that the name of the other Gods came of the deserts of men. And afore him, Cicero in his first booke of the nature of Gods saith, A doer of good to o­thers, is estee­med as a God. that because much good and much hurt commeth of man vnto man; and it is the propertie of God to doe good: therefore if a man doe vs any good, or rid vs out of any great danger; because in so do­ing he resembleth God, he is commonly said to haue beene a God vnto him whom he hath so gratified: and he conclu­deth, that the very beasts were canonised for the pleasures that they had done vnto men; as for example, the Aegypti­ans worshipped the Storke, and diuers other birds and beasts. And Iuuenall esteemeth a benefactor as a God, saying; If some God, or some like vnto God, or some man better than the Gods, should giue thee a thing. Likewise the Shepheard in the Eglogues of Virgil, maketh Augustus a God, because he gaue him leaue to feed his cattell where he would. In the same respect, the oath which the Scithians made by the wind and the sword, was as great among them, as if they had sworne by God; because the wind giueth breath to liue by, and the [Page 55] sword cutteth off life. And to shew that nothing pleaseth a gentlemanly heart so much as praise. Let vs consider what Themistocles did to attaine therunto. Aforetime he had bin vi­cious, and had no care either of vertue or of feats of arms. But when once he had heard the praise that was giuen to Miltia­des for the battell of Marathon; he neuer ceased after vntill he became the chiefe of all Athens. And one day, when his companions asked him, What had so altered him, and what had made him so vigilant? he answered, That the En­signes of Miltiad [...]s victorie, suffered him not to sleepe or take rest. Afterward being himselfe at the gamings of Olimpus, when all the standers by did cast their looks vpon him, with­out regarding to behold the companions, and pointed him out with their fingers vnto strangers; he was so glad of it, that he confessed to his friends, that at that time he receiued the fruit of all the great trauels which hee had endured for Greece. Iulius Caesar wept at the image of Alexander, finding fault with himselfe that he had not done any thing worthie of memorie, being come to the age wherin Aelxander had con­quered the whole world. And Alexander deemed Achilles right happie, in that he had such a Poet as Homer to register his praises.

Thus you see how the pleasure of princes consisteth whol­ly in honor and reputation; The pleasure of princes consisteth in honor. the which cannot be acquired, whether it be in ciuil matters, or in matters of warre, but on­ly by vertue. Which thing Marcellus intending to make knowne to posterities, builded in Rome a temple to Honour, hard by the temple of Vertue; and he made it in such sort, as men could not come into it, but through the temple of Ver­tue; doing men to vnderstand, that honour and reputation can­not be acquired, but by vertue.

Therefore we must conclude that a prince can haue no sound and substantiall pleasure, if he be not vertuous. And (as saith Philo the Iew in his Allegories) Para­dise is (by a figure) called Vertue, and the place proper to Paradise, is called Eden; which signifieth pleasure. For [Page 56] ioy and peace, being the things wherein the true pleasure con­sisteth, agree very well vnto vertue.

CHAP. IX. Of Vertue.

LEt vs speake now of Vertue, as of the thing that is most fit and beseeming for a prince, and wherin he becommeth most like vn­to God. For as for those foolish emperors, which to resemble Iupiter, made them­selues to be painted with thunder & light­ning in their hands: they were not esteemed for all that, but rather mocked of the world, and made abhominable vnto God.

For as saith Plutarch in his booke of the Education of princes, God is angrie with those that imitate and counter­fait him, in following his lightenings and thunders; but he lo­ueth well such as conforme themselues to his likenesse in hu­manitie and honest dealing, by imitating his Vertue. And such are his elect, to whom he imparteth of his vprightnesse, of his iustice, of his truth, and of his meeknesse, than the which there is not any thing more diuine. For God is not so much happie for his immortalitie, as for that he is the prince of all Vertue.

Aristotle in his Morals saith, That Vertue is an habit of the mind, wherby a man becommeth good, and doth his du­tie; the contrarie whereunto is vice. A definition of Vertue. So that to eschew vice, is to be vertuous; or els we may say, that Vertue is an habit or hauing of the thing that is beseeming and of dutie to be done▪ Cicero saith in his Tusculane questions, That Vertue is a cer­taine constant affection or disposition of mind, which maketh the possessors thereof to be praised, from whence proceed all honest deeds, and determinations. And in his booke of lawes, [Page 57] hee saith, That Vertue is the very perfection of nature. With him also accordeth S. Ambrose, in his third chap­ter concerning faith, following a principle of the Pithagori­ans, who hold opinion that al things are perfect by the vertue of their owne nature: as for example, the vertue of a horse is that which setteth him in his perfection; the vertue of eyes, is the good sight of them; the vertue or perfection of the na­ture of feet, is to go well and lightly. There are three things whereby vertue is perfected, Skill, Power, and Will. Skill ser­ueth for contēplation and iudgement, out of the which spring­eth discretion; Power is a strength whereby we stand fast in our purpose of well-doing. And Will is as it were, the hand of the soule, whereby we take in hand the thing that we intend to doe.

Some diuide vertue into two parts, A diuision of Vertue. that is to wit, Contem­platiue, and Morall; we cal that vertue Contemplatiue, which consisteth in well vnderstanding, and well considering, that is to say, in the inward minding and reasoning, whereout spring­eth discretion and wisedome. And we call those vertues mo­rall, which belong to manners, and not alonely to vnderstan­ding. As for example, when we speake of the manners of some man, we say not that he is wise, but that he is meeld, liberall, and kind-hearted.

For Wisedome is a certaine hauior of vertue, which consi­steth in the wit and vnderstanding; but Temperance belong­eth to a mans actions and manners, and in respect thereof wee terme it Morall. Philo the Iew saith in his Allegories, that ver­tue is Contemplatiue, and Actiue; because it vseth contem­plation by the discourse of reason, and therewithall hath acti­ons also. For Vertue is the Art of our whole life, containing all actions. Vertue is the Art of al our whole life.

That is the cause why Moses sayth, that the Tree of life which betokeneth the generall Vertue, which we cal Good­nesse, is faire to see too; whereby is signified, the Contempla­tion: and that the fruit thereof is good to eat, whereby is be­tokened the vse, and action.

[Page 58]Others make foure principal vertues, the which they terme Cardinall, vnder which, all other vertues are comprehended: namely, Wisedome, which teacheth what is to be done; Har­dinesse, or Valeantnesse, which teacheth what is to be indu­red; Temperance, which teacheth what is to be chosen; and Iustice, which teacheth what is to bee yeelded vnto euery man. Othersome do lodge wisdome in the vnderstanding and the wit; Iustice, in the will; Hardines in that part of the mind which conceiueth anger; and Temperance, in the lust of the sensitiue appetite. And for the better vnderstanding hereof, ye must cōsider that we haue two sorts of appetits, Two sorts of Appetites. the one, of the mind, the other of the sence. The mindly appetite followeth the conceit of the vnderstanding; the sensitiue followeth the conceit of the sence. This sensitiue is diuided againe into two, that is to say, Lustfull, and Irefull. We call that the Lustfull, whereby we shun the things that mislike vs, and follow the things that are delectable. And by the Irefull we assayle the things that may disappoint vs of the foresayd good, and of the foresaid pleasure. As for example, a lion by his lustfull appetit, runneth after his prey, as a thing pleasaunt vnto him; and by his Irefull appetit, he assaileth such as go about to disappoint him thereof. So that the lustfull appetit tendeth to rest and pleasure; and the yrefull tendeth to a harder point, namely, to resist euill, and whatsoeuer else annoieth vs. There are others which diuide all vertues into three. For Vertue doth either direct reason aright, and is altogither grounded therupon, and that we call Wisedome: or else it is the effecter and bringer to passe of good reason, and is grounded in willingnesse, to doe that which is wisely set downe in conceit, and that is it which we cal Iustice: or else it maintaineth the good vpon good rea­son, and that is the vertue which we affirme to consist in the sensitiue appetit. And out of this vertue proceed Hardinesse, and Temperance, Of the reaso­nable, Irefull, and Lustful parts of the soule. two cardinall & principal vertues; & more­ouer, Magnanimitie, Liberalitie, Magnificence, Soothfastnes, Mildnes, Meeknes, & Affabilitie. Philo the Iew doth likewise diuide Vertue into three parts, according to the three parts of [Page 59] our soule; namely, Reasonable, Irefull, and Lustfull. The first Vertue is that which sheweth it selfe in the chiefe part of the soule, that is to say, in the reasonable part, which Vertue we call wisdome. The second is, the force or strength that lodgeth in the second part of the soule, namely in the Irefull. The third is Temperance or Staiednesse, which is imployed about the Lustfull power. And when these three are of one accord, then doth Iustice or Rightfulnesse shew it selfe. For when the Irefull and the Lustfull obay the commaundement of the Reasonable; then doth Rightfulnesse vtter the fruit of that accord & harmonie. Aristotle saith, that Vertue is a meane, & as a white in the middest of a butte, wherat all men ought to leuel, and whoso euer swarueth neuer so little from it one way or other, Vertue hath hir bounds: but vice is in­finit. misseth his mark. And as it is far more hard to hit the white, than to goe round about it, so is it more hard to be ver­tuous, than to be vitious. Vice is infinit, and therfore hath not any meane. Contrariwise, Vertue hath hir bounds, which can­not be passed, but into vice. Let vs for example take Hardines, which is a meane betweene Fearfulnesse & Ouer-boldnesse, of which two this latter is the excesse of boldnesse, in offering a mans selfe to danger, and the other is the default or want of boldnesse in the same case, when Boldnesse is requisit or ex­pedient. And therfore he that through ouer-great Boldnesse thrusteth himselfe into dangers vnaduisedly, and rusheth into them like a wild Boare, cannot be deemed hardie or valiant, but rather rash; and he that through Fearfulnesse dareth not shew his head before his enemie, is accounted a Coward. The measurable meane in giuing & taking, is called Liberalitie, the excesse wherof in taking is Couetousnesse, and the excesse in giuing is Prodigalitie, & the meane between them cannot be in the vice. For too much or too little cannot make vice to be Vertue. As for example, a theefe or a murtherer faile not to sin, for stealing or murthering too much or too little. Whosoe­uer is a theefe, a murderer, or an adulterer, in what sort soeuer it be, he doth alwaies sin; and because a man may sin many waies, it is easier to sin than to doe well.

[Page 60]Let vs ad that which Philo sayth in his Allegories, that the thing which is good, is rare, and the things which are euill, be ri [...]e; in so much that for one wise man, you shall find an infinit multitude of fooles. Furthermore, to attain vnto Vertue, there needeth but reason: but to the compassing of vice, men applie mind, sence, and body: and we see that the way of vice is the larger and easier. Why the way of Vertue is not so large as the way of Vice. And in that respect, doth Hesiodus say, that the first enterance into the way whereby men ascend vnto vertue, is rough, combersom, and steepe, but very smooth and easie, when a man hath ouerpast the little crabbednesse that was at the first entrie of the way. But the hardnesse thereof must not discourage a man; for it is a generall rule, that (as the Greeke Prouerbe sayth) The attainment of all goodly things is painfull; because (as Epicharmus sayth) God felleth his be­nefits vnto vs for pains and trauell, God selleth his benefits vnto men for trauell. according to the first curse that God gaue vnto man, namely, that he should eat his bread in the sweat of his browes.

And as Synesius saith, It is peculiar to the Godhead to com­passe any great matter without pains-taking. But among men, not only the vertues, but also euery other excellent thing, is gotten with the sweat of the body. Truth it is, that in all great things nature hath purposed a certaine difficultie▪ so as the par­tie that will liue happily, must needs take pains. For as Sophocles sayth, a man cannot haue the thing that is great and excellent, without paine; for without that, the noble captains had ne­uer obtained the fame which is dispersed of them through the whole world. To attaine vnto that, Hannibal forwent an eye, lay oft vpon the hard ground, watched infinit times when others slept, and endured hunger and thirst with great cheere­fulnesse. Pyrrhus, Alexander, Iulius Caesar, Epaminondas, Themi­stocles, Alcibiades, and all the noble captains that euer were, haue done the like.

A Poet maketh not a good verse, nor an Orator a good o­ration, without paine. And seeing it is so, that God hath made all goodly things rare, we should not spare our pains to acquire the thing which of all others is most beautifull. Surely a prince [Page 61] ought most specially to doe it; assuring himselfe that it is the thing wherein he most resembleth God. For as touching a princes strength and power, it is nothing in comparison of the power of fire, or of the sea, or of a streame, against the which nothing is able to stand. Men esteeme not princes but for their goodnesse. And although he haue all our liues in his hand; yet doe we not esteeme him so much for that, as for his righteousnes and goodnes, after the maner of the men of old time, which called God first, most Gratious, and secondly most High and most mightie. For Gods gratious goodnesse is the cause that men loue him, honor him, and worship him: and his power is the cause that men feare him; and so they made vertue to goe alwaies before might and power. And this word, Good, was in so great estimatiō with our Lord Ie­sus Christ, that he would not haue so glorious a title vsurped of men affirming that there was none good but the one only God.

Plutarch saith in the life of Aristides, that God surmoun­teth all other things, chiefly in three points, that is to wit, im­mortalitie, mightinesse, and goodnesse: of which three, good­nesse or vertue, is the most honorable, and most peculiar to the Godhead. For incorruption and immortalitie (at least wise according to the opinion of the auntient Philosophers) is as well in the elements, and in the wast Chaos, as in God; and as for might or power, there is very much and great in the winds, in thunder and lightnings, in streams, and in water­flouds. But as for iustice, vprightnesse, and equitie, nothing can be partaker of them, but that which is diuine, by means of rea­son and vnderstanding. And therefore that men deeme the Gods to be happie, it is in respect of their goodnesse; that they feare them it is because of their almightinesse; and that they loue, worship, and reuerence them, it is for their iustice sake. And if we will beleeue Aristotle in the first booke of his Morals, we shall say, that what king soeuer will become worthie of immortalitie, must inure himselfe, as much as is possible, vnto vertue, because it is his charge to make his sub­iects honest and obedient vnto lawes.

[Page 62] A Gouernor ought to be skilfull in things belon­ging to the mind or soule.For like as to him that will heale an eye, it is behoofull that he know the nature both of the eye and of the whole body; so he that will gouerne aright must know what belon­geth to the mind. For the skill of gouernment is a thing of more worthinesse than the art of healing mens bodies. For as much therefore as Phisitions and Surgions, take so great pains to know the constitution of the body: surely he that will be cunning and well skilled in gouerning of pople, ought to take paine to get knowledge of the soule, Plutarch in the life of Pe­ricles. that is to say, of vertue, which springeth from the soule, and hath this propertie, that the knowing thereof maketh a man in loue with it, so that therewithall he findeth therein right goodly actions, and is desirous to become like vnto those that doe them. A good prince is desirous to resemble such as haue done vertuous deeds. For as tou­ching the goods of fortune, we haue of them a possesion; and as touching vertue, we haue thereof an inworking or action. By means whereof, we be glad to haue those goods of other men: but yet therwithall we would also that other men shuld haue them of vs. For vertue is of such force, that it quickeneth vp the man that considereth it, to be desirous to put it in exe­cution by and by, and engendreth in his heart a certaine lon­ging to vtter it by his deeds; framing and fashioning the ma­ners of him that beholdeth it, not by way of imitation, but by the only vnderstanding of the vertuous deed, which out of hand bringeth him a determinate purpose to doe the like. And as Cicero saith in his booke of Friendship, Nothing is so auail­able as vertue, ne draweth men more to be in loue therewith: insomuch that we loue those whom we neuer saw, vpon an opinon which we conceiue of their goodnesse and vertue. For the true loue of vertue (that is to say the affection to imitate it) is not imprinted in mens hearts, Plutarch in the life of Ca­ [...]o. without a singular good will and reuerence towards the person that giueth the impres­sion thereof. Insomuch that euen enemies doe praise their e­nemies that haue vertue, and euen robbers and outlaws haue it in admiration. Whereof we haue a notable example in Sci­pio, who being all alone in his house in the countrie, was beset with a great number of robbers, and when he prepared him­selfe [Page 63] to resist them, they threw down their weapons, and prai­ed him to open them the gate, saying they were come of pur­pose to obtaine the fauor to see so vertuous a noble man as he was. The thing that procureth loue, (saith Cicero in his booke intituled Laelius) is the consideration of the goodnesse and li­beralitie of him to whome a man resorteth; so that vertue causeth him to be beloued and esteemed. And as the same Cicero saith in his booke of Duties, Men make ac­count of those whom they take to be vertuous. We highly commend and make great reckoning of those whom we take to be ver­tuous, and we despise those that haue neither power nor ver­tue. And in his Tusculane questions he saith, That there is not any thing comparable to vertue, and that vertue dispising all things, regardeth not the chaunces of the world, but is suffi­cient of hirselfe to lead a good and happie life, without the aid of any other thing. Furthermore, praise and honor doth ne­cessarily follow vertue, as a mans shadow followeth him by the light of the sun or of a candle, and for that cause Marcel­lus made his tēple of Honor insuch wise, as no man could en­ter into it but by the dore of the temple of Vertue, as I haue declared afore. Our Lord Iesus likeneth the kingdome of hea­uen, vnto one that sold all that he had to buy a goodly pearle withall; as who would say, A man would not sticke to spend his mony & his goods to purchase a thing that is beautiful and rare, and wherein there is great gaine. Therefore he that will purchase vertue, the fairest and greatest thing of price that can be as whereby we mount vp to heauen) ought not to spare any thing. A wise man being armed with vertue cannot be dis­armed Antisthenes said, That Vertue is a good and sure wal, & a kind of armor that cannot be taken away: be a man ne­uer so valiant, he may haue his sword taken from him, and he may de disarmed; but a wise man being armed with ver­tue cannot be disarmed or ouercome. Also he affirmeth, that the wise man liueth not by law, but by the rule of ver­tue. As who should say, no good man ought so much to re­spect the commaundement of the law, as the direction of reason, which wil haue vs to follow the thing that is good and honest, and to eschew whatsoeuer is shamefull and vnhonest. [Page 64] The which reason caused the emperour Theodosius to say, that it most highly beseemed the maiestie of a king, to bind him­selfe to law; and that the authoritie of the empire depended vpon lawes, vnto the which he also submitted himselfe. Con­trariwise, Heliogabalus the peerelesse patterne of all wicked­nesse, said it belonged to none but to himselfe alone to stablish lawes at his pleasure, without being bound to maintaine them longer than he listed.

One demaunded of Aristotle, what profit Philosophie brought with it? Very great (quoth he) for it teacheth me to doe the things vncommaunded, which other folkes doe for feare of lawes. The same is it that makes a king conform him­selfe to the law. For the prince being the defender, maintainer and vpholder of the law, cannot doe any thing against law, without doing wrong to the state, and without giuing an euill example to his people. And for as much as hee hath none a­boue him but onely God, and therefore may transgresse the law without punishment, and without feare of man, hee ought to haue the bridle of reason and vertue before his eies, as well to keepe the lawes himselfe, as to make them to be kept of his people.

And as it is a great shame for a scholemaster, when his scho­ler knoweth more than he: so is it a great dishonor to a prince, when his subiect is better than he. And therefore vertue is much more needful in a prince, The priuat person is to do well by con­straint of laws, but the prince by the directiō of Vertue. than in a priuat person. For the priuat person doth good of force, by constraint and rigor of the lawes: but the prince can haue none other constraints than vertue, religion, and hope of reward at Gods hand. According whereunto, Chilo the Lacedemonian being asked, Wherein vertuous men passed other men? In good hope (quoth hee.) Whereby he meant the reward that we looke for after this life. And therefore I say for a conclusion, that Vertue is the law and rule of princes, according whereunto, they ought to direct all their actions and doings, for the well gouerning of their people, and that they may haue a happie reigne.

CHAP. X. Of the Passions of the mind.

FOr as much as I haue alredie spoken of ver­tue in generall; it will not be amisse for the vnderstanding of this discourse, to speake a word or twaine by the way, concerning the passions that are in the mind, (which Mer­curie the great termeth the tormentors of man) to the end that vertue may be the better knowne by his contrarie. Plutarch in the life of Deme­trius. For whereas Phisicke discusseth what is sicknesse, and Musicke, what is a discord; that is but casually and by ac­cident, for the better doing of the contrarie; that is to wit, for the preseruing or recouering of health, and for the making of good harmonie. Euen so temperance, iustice, and wisdome, be­ing the perfectest of all vertues, do giue vs knowledge not on­ly of the thing that is iust, honest, and profitable: but also of that which is vnhonest, It is Ignorance not to know euill. vniust, and hurtfull. For it is a brutish­nesse not to know what is euill, and to be ignorant of the things that are most principally requisit, in such as intend to liue vp­rightly among good and honest men. The passions therefore, are Ignorance, against which, Mercurie opposeth the know­ledge of God; Slothfulnesse, against the which he opposeth Cheerefulnesse, exempted from all voluptuous delectation; Inconstancie or vnstedfastnesse, wherevnto he opposeth Con­stancie, or Stedfastnesse; Vnrighteousnesse, whereagainst he setteth Righteousnes; Incontinencie or vnchastnesse, against the which he matcheth Continencie or chastnesse; which is the vertue that ouermaistreth lusts, and is the first degree and foundation of all righteousnes: Riottousnes, or excesse, against the which he opposeth Sparingnesse; Deceitfulnesse, which he countermatcheth with Soothfastnesse; and consequently Enuie, Frawd, Rashnesse, & Malice. Virgil following the ma­ner [Page 66] of the Stoiks, setteth downe foure passions of the mind, sai­eng thus, Hence proceed the restreints of their longings, disli­kings, ioies, and feares, which are as the welsprings of al the re­sidue. For enuiousnesse, slaunderousnesse, sorrowfulnesse, ruful­nesse, carke, and despaire, come of disliking or discontentment. Slothfulnesse, bashfulnesse, and amazednesse of mind, come of fearefulnesse: Iollitie, boasting, and skorning, come of vnmea­sured gladnesse or ouer-ioifulnes. Wrath, rancor, suspition, and such other, come of longing or desirousnesse. Othersome di­uide the passions of the mind into Loue and Hatred, Longing and Loathing, Gladnes and Sadnes, Hope and Despaire, Fear­fulnesse and Foolehardinesse, Choleriknesse and Coldnesse, which coldnesse is a vice proceeding of a sillie mind and fee­ble courage, that is not touched with any thing, nor can be pro­uoked to anger, and is a counterfeiter of the vertue Meeld­nesse, which doth so well moderat the affection and passion of the mind, that it keepeth a man from being angrie out of mea­sure. All these passions haue their being in the sensitiue appe­tite; The one halfe of the Passi­ons follow the Lustfull appe­tit, and the o­ther the Ireful the which I diuide into Lustfull, and into Irefull or Wrathfull. Six of the Passions, namely Loue and Hatred, Longing and Loathing, Gladnesse and Sadnesse, do follow the Lustfull appetite. The other six, that is to say Hope and De­spaire, Fearfulnesse and Foolehardinesse, Cholerikenesse and Coldnesse, This going before and comming af­ter, is not in respect of time and place, but of order, rea­son, and dig­nitie. doe follow the Irefull part. I place Loue foremost, because the hating of one thing presupposeth the loue of ano­ther: as for example, a man would neuer hate vice, vnlesse he loued vertue.

Likewise Longing, which is an appendant of Loue, goeth be­fore Loathing, which ensueth Hatred. Also Hope goes before Despaire, for if we haue a mind to any good thing, it is a grea­ter matter to obtaine it, than to go without it. Therfore Hope (which tendeth to the good) goeth before Despaire which letteth the good go. Again, feare goeth before foole-hardines, because the good goeth alwaies before the euill, and we shun the euill to obtaine the good. In like case is it with gladnesse, which goeth alwaies before sadnesse, because the sadnesse [Page 67] tendeth to the euill. As touching choleriknesse, some put it be­fore coldnesse, & some after. They that put it after do follow the generall rule, saying that the good is alwaies formost, be­cause the euil presupposeth a good, as I haue said afore. They that put it afore, say, that coldnesse is not properly a passion, but rather a default or want of passion: and therefore that in the matter of passion choleriknesse, anger, or wrath, ought to goe before coldnesse, which is a disposition void of passion and feeling of choller. Neuerthelesse it seemeth that this want of passion, may be deemed a passion and an euill thing in man, for as much as through such vndisposednesse of the soule, a man is so sheepish, that he cannot be angry when need is. For where both the extreams be faultie, they cannot be without passion, that is to say, without euill affection of the mind. Now in order of passions, loue and hatred doe hold the first place, as passions of most strength, vpon whom all the rest depend. Next vnto them do follow longing & loathing, as ap­pendants to loue and hatred. For of loue cōmeth longing, and of hating loathing, when as we be loath to see the thing that we hate. Then ensue hope and dispaire, & so forth of the rest. Now it is to be seene after what sort a man is to rule himselfe in these passions, and by what means profit may be drawne of them. That the pas­sions being well taken are not euill. First as touching loue & hatred, it seemeth that both the one & the other may be in the mind of a prince, & gene­rally in all gentlemanly minds, without blame. For we say that loue is a desire of the thing that is faire, goodly, or beautifull. Therfore hatred being the contrarie, must needs be a lothing of the thing that is foule and ilfauored. Of loue. Many haue misliked of loue as though it were a hinderer of vertuous deeds. But they that haue waded deepely into the matter, haue not rested vpon that kind of loue, which is ingendred in our hearts by the beholding of a faire & beautifull countenance, or of some excellēt beautie, but mounting vp higher & seeking to the ve­ry wels head, they haue found, that all that is in this word, is conceiued and ingendred by loue, as Plato teacheth vs, hauing perhaps drawne that doctrine out of the bible, as we may see [Page 68] by Salomons song, which discouereth Gods loue towards men, vnder the persons of two louers, the which song is learnedly interpreted by Origen. This loue is not alwaies a well liking of the body; It is of another sort, liking wel of nothing but of the soule that is clad with innocencie, chastitie, righteousnesse, and temperāce. S. Austin in his xiiij. booke of the citie of God, saith that the will which is rightly disposed, is good loue, and ill dis­posed will is euil loue, The loue then which is desirous to haue the thing that is beloued, is called longing; possessing and en­ioieng it, it is called gladnesse. The fleeing or shunning of the contrarie vnto it, is feare; and the feeling thereof when it is come, is called sadnesse. And therefore these things be euill, if the loue be euill, and good if the loue be good. In considerati­on whererof, we say that loue respecteth the good. By which reason, a prince ought to loue that which is most beautifull, that is to say, God; the which thing he shall do by being reli­gious, and by being afraid to displease him. A prince must loue the pub­like-weale. Secondly after the example of God our souereigne monarke, he must loue the common-weale, as God loueth the world: yea, and by very natural reason, the publike case is to be preferred afore the pri­uat. And this only way made the Romans, Athenians, and La­cedemonians great, who feared not any danger, so it were for the cōmon-weale. Accordingly as we read that Codrus king of Athens, vowed his life for the safetie of his countrie, and like­wise the Romane Deciusses. Lacena, in steed of mourning for hir dead sonne, reioiced when she heard he was slaine in the wars, in defence of his countrie. Leonidas a king of the Lacedemo­nians, holding it for certaintie that himselfe and all his souldi­ers should be slaine, because they were not of sufficient num­ber to withstand the power of the Persians, sayd vnto his men, Let vs dine my good fellowes, as those which shall this day go suppe with them that are deceassed. In so much that the prince that hath the loue of God and of the cōmon-weale afore his eies, cannot faile but haue the vertues wherof I hope to speake hereafter. But if he neglect the common-weale, and haue regard but onely to his owne peculiar profit; [Page 69] then in steed of hauing some vertues, he shall be replenished with all vice, so as he shall doe nothing but pill his people, and be catching of all things as well holie as vnholy. Wherby a man may know him that is a louer of men, from him that is not so; and a tyrant from a king. For a king aimeth wholly at the common profit, and a tyrant at his owne peculiar profit.

Againe, the king in doing for the publike weale, doth for himselfe: for that is the thing that vpholdeth him. On the contrarie part, the tyrant in doing all things for himselfe, doth by that means ouerthrow himselfe. What hatred becomme [...]h a prince. And euen as loue is very requisit in a prince, so say I also that hatred doth well beseeme him. I meane not the hating of any perticular person, or of all in generall, after the maner of Timon of Athens, who na­turally did hate all men, or of Mison, who neuer laughed but when he was alone: for such kind of hatred is dangerous in a prince, by reason of his ouergreat power, which would be the cause of the destruction of infinit men. For so soone as he commaundeth a thing, so soone is it done, as I will declare hereafter when I speake of anger. But I speake of the hatred which is the countermatch to loue. For if the louer loue the thing that is beautifull, the hater hateth the thing that is ouglie. Vertue is the beautifullest thing that we haue; ther­fore must vice needs be the ougliest; and so must a good prince needs hate both the vice and the vicious. Which thing Salo­mon perceiuing very well, saith in the twelfth chapter of his Prouerbs, That a wise prince scattereth the wicked, and ma­keth the wheele to turne ouer them. And in the same chap­ter he saith, That the king with his only looke driueth away all euill. As if he would say, that a king (who ought to be an example of vertue) is a terror to the wicked. For as the sun disperseth the clowdes and mists; so doth the countenance of a veruous king driue away all vice and all naughtinesse. For the wicked dare not come neere him, for feare of punishment. By speaking thus of loue & hatred, we see what a king ought to desire, and what he ought to eschew: wherwith he ought to be pleased, and wherwith he ought to be displeased: name­ly [Page 70] that he ought to desire the good, as the end wherto he tendeth, and to abhorre the euill, after the example of S. Paul, who in his Epistle to the Philippians, desireth to be let loose and to be with Christ. And Dauid in the Psalme 118, My soule longeth for thy iudgements. In what ma­ner a prince may be mer­rie and glad. Likewise a prince ought to reioice and take pleasure in the welfare of his subiects, and to be sorie when they fare amisse. For it is permitted vnto him to be merry, so it be in things vertuous, accordingly as we be commaunded to reioice in the Lord, and to be sory for the misery and aduersitie of our neighbours. Psal. 15. Psal. 22. Reioyce ye righte­ous (saith Dauid) yea leape ye for ioy. And againe, Ye haue made my heart merry. And in the ninth Psalme, I will con­fesse thee and praise thee O Lord, and my heart shall reioyce in thee. But the beastly and voluptuous mirth is reproued, such as belongeth (as Dauid saith) to the horse and mule, which haue no vnderstanding, but giue themselues ouer to their owne sensuall lust. As for sorrow or sadnesse, it ought to be farre from vs, Of sadnesse, sorrow, and heauinesse. because that (as Salomon saith) A sorrowfull heart drieth vp a mans bones; except it be so that we sorrow for our misdeeds, according to this saying in S. Mathew, Bles­sed are they that weepe and mourne: his meaning is, for their sinnes. For as saith S. Paul to the Corinthians, The godlie sorrow ingendreth repentance vnto saluation, whereof a man shall neuer repent him. But the worldly sorrow ingendreth death. And in his Epistle to Timothie, he findeth fault with such as are affectionlesse. And in the three score and eight Psalme, I looked (quoth Dauid) if there were any that would be sad with me, but there was none. For as Cicero saith in his Tusculanes, It is an vnnaturall and vnkindly thing, for a man to abide in such vnagreeuednesse. Socrates made Alcibiades to weepe, for that he shewed him by liuely rea­sons, that he was of lesse estimation than a torch-bearer, if he had not vertue: and that sorrowing was behoofful to him. To rid vs of the worldly heauinesse, we haue two remedies; the one is vertue, and discretion. For a vertuous and discreet man, is not dismaied for any losse, neither is he out of quiet [Page 71] for any thing, Of friendship. but for his misdeeds. The other remedie is Friendship. For as Chilo said, The sorrowes and incommo­dities of this life, must be ouercome by stoutnesse of cou­rage, and by communicating them with our friends. And in truth there is not any thing that doth so greatly assuage hea­uinesse, as to haue a friend into whose bosome a man may dis­charge the griefe that lies vpon his heart. For that cause doth Homer giue Achilles a Patroclus: and Virgil, an Achates vnto Aenaeas: Alexander had his Ephestion: Darius his Zopyrus: Scipio his Laelius: and generally all good princes haue had some spe­ciall friend, vnto whom they might vnburden themselues of their griefes. My meaning is not, that I would a prince should haue a friend, but to serue his delights: for such friend­ships last not. As for example, if a prince loue some pleasant conceited person, because he taketh pleasure in him; the friendship that is so sought for pleasure or for profit, is but counterfait, and is easie to be broken, as Aristotle saith in his eight booke of Morals, The perfect friendship is among good men that loue vertue: A prince ought to be very precise in chusing his friend. and that friendship is durable. And such men ought a prince to be carefull to find out, for feare it be said vnto him, as Aristippus vpbraided some saying, When we buy a thing at a porter, we looke neerly vnto it, but when we be to chuse a friend, we be carelesse in examining his life; notwithstanding that there is no comparison betweene moua­ble goods and a friend. For a friend may helpe a prince both with counsell and comfort, and also greatly aduance his pro­fit, as Zopirus did vnto king Darius, vnto whom he recouered Babilon. And therefore Darius said, That he had leuer haue one Zopirus, than to take tenne Babilons; and that he wi­shed hee had as many Megabisusses, as there be kernels in a Pomgarnet.

For this cause were Pilades and Orestes, exalted to the skies by the Poets; and Damon and Pithias, Pi­thagorians, by the Historiographers. Many exam­ples of [...]aith­ [...]ull friends. And among others, we must not let passe the friendship of Seruius Terentius, towards Brutus. For when Brutus should haue beene put [Page 72] to death, this Terentius affirmed himselfe to be he, and would haue bin killed for him in the darkenesse of the place, neuer­thelesse being discerned who he was, he was suffered to liue whether he would or no. Neither is the wi [...]ely loue of one Hostes the wife of a Moore, to be passed ouer in silence; who seing hir husband dead, absteined from food nine daies toge­ther, that she might be buried with him. Timagenides seing the citie of Thebes besieged for his sake, chose rather to yeeld himselfe to the rest of the Greeks who were desirous of him, than to abide the burning, spoiling, and sacking of his country. Also there were a couple of Lacedemonians, which offered to goe to the king of Persia, to be put to torture for the rest of their countriemen, who had killed the kings Embassadors. But yet the loue of certaine Frenchmen towards their coun­try, shall put to silence the fables of Orestes and Pilades, and whatsoeuer is reported of the Curtiusses and Deciusses of Rome. When the king of England refused to take Callis to mercie, except they would deliuer him six Burgesses of the towne, with halters about their necks, to doe his pleasure with them; the people being assembled into one place, and hea­ring this sentence, fell to weeping. Then stept vp among them one Eustace of S. Peters, one of the richest men of all the town, and told them that he would not suffer such a number of peo­ple to perish, but would rather giue himselfe to the death for their safety, than see them die for hunger, or be slaine with the sword. After him followed another named Iohn Daire, and foure mo of the richest in Calis, who vowed themselues eue­rychone to the death, for the safegard of their people.

S. Ambrose in his second booke of Virgins, reporteth a notable storie of a maid and a young souldier, who offered themselues to die either for the other. The maid was con­demned either to doe sacrifice to the idols, or else to be made a brothel in the stewes. She vtterly refusing to doe sacrifice to the idols, was led forthwith to the stewes, where after she had made hir praiers vnto God, there was brought vnto hir a young souldiour, who altering his former purpose which he [Page 73] had to haue defiled her, praied her to take his apparell, and he would put on hirs, that by that means shee might go hir waies vnknowne, and so be saued. When she was departed out of the brothel-house, there came in other yoong men in hope to haue had their pleasure of that faire damsel. But in hir stead they found the man, and thought shee had bene turned into that shape by miracle. In the end, when the conueiance was discouered, the yoong man was carried to be punished; wher­of the mayd hearing, presented hirselfe to baile him, body for body, that he might escape: but the yoong man would in no wise heare of that, affirming that iudgement was giuen against him, and not against hir. The maid replied, that he was there but as a pledge, and that the sentence which was giuen against him, ought to be executed vpon hirselfe. To conclude, they disputed so wel the one against the other, that with their con­sents, they were both put to death. Let this be spoken as by the way, because occasion thereof was offered. He that is desirous to see more, let him read Aristotles Morals, Lucians Toxaris, and Ciceros Laelius.

Now let vs proceed to Hope, Of Hope and Despaire. which is an affection wel be­seeming a Prince. When Alexander hauing of a bountifull mind giuen all to his friends, was asked what should remaine to himselfe; Hope (quoth he) because he hoped to get much more. And this Hope is grounded vpon a certaine noblenesse of courage.

I know well inough that some Hope is but the dreaming of a man when he is awake: for commonly we misse of the thing that we behight our selues. Neuerthelesse, I say that the vali­ant and well aduised prince sildome fayleth of his hope, when it is grounded vpon reason and good fortune. Philo sayth, that Hope is the fountaine of all sorts and trades of life. The merchant traffiqueth in hope of gaine, the marener in hope to benefit himselfe by his sayling; the ambitious in hope of glo­rie and honour: and to attaine to these ends, euery of them doth take maruellous pains. The hope of the happie state draweth men to vertue. But indeed the true and only hope, is [Page 74] to hope in God, as in him that is our Creator, and is sufficient of himselfe alone to keepe vs safe and sound.

Despaire, or Distrust.Afterward commeth Despaire, or Distrust, the contrary to Hope, which may bee taken doublewise, either as when a prince hauing lost a battell and broken his force, letteth all go without consulting or taking aduice what to do, & through Despaire seeketh no remedie, which oft befalleth for want of courage; to maintaine the which, nothing is comparable to stoutnesse of mind. The other sort is not properly Despaire, but a behauior proceeding of humilitie, which maketh vs that we be not ouer-hastie in hoping for great and high things, the which is conuenient enough for a prince, for it restreineth him from hazarding himselfe, and from vndertaking too great and hard things, after the maner of Dauid, who reioiceth that hee had not enterprised things ouer-great, and exceeding his po­wer. In this case, both Hope and Distrust are well befitting a king. For the one maketh him to enterprise great things, & the other to moderat them in such sort, as he vndertake not any thing aboue his abilitie, or aboue that which he ought; for to do so, proceedeth either of vndiscreetnes, or of rage, or of some other inordinat passion. Of Fearfulnes and Foole har­dinesse. Fearfulnesse, and Foole-hardinesse, are the two faultie extremities which inclose Prowes, or valeant­nesse of courage, wherof I will speake more largely hereafter. For whosoeuer through the greatnes of his courage doth put himselfe in perill, yea euen of certaine death for a good cause, he is to be esteemed hardie, valeant, and manly-minded. And surely, the Fearefull is worse than the Foole-hardie. For as Thucidides saith, Feare doth not only bereaue a man of his me­morie, but also of his strength, and impeacheth the execution of the thing that he had determined. Neuerthelesse, the feare to do euil is euermore wel-beseeming, according to this saying of S [...]lomon in his Prouerbs, Blessed is the man that alwaies stan­deth in feare: but he that hardeneth his heart, shall fall into mischiefe. S. Paul willeth vs to go through with our saluation, with feare and terror, and he would not haue vs to be too skil­ful. And in the xj. of Esai it is written, that the spirit of the feare [Page 75] of God shall rest vpon the blossome of the roote of Iesse. And in the lxvj. chapter, Whom shall I regard (saith the Lord) but him that is meeld and gentle, and standeth in feare of my words. And in the xxvj. At the feare of thee we haue conceiued and brought forth the spirit of saluation. And in the xxxiij Psalme, Ye righteous feare ye the Lord. And in the xviij Psalme, The true way is to feare the power of God. The feare of the Lord endureth for euer. And as S. Ierome saith, Feare is the keeper of al vertues, and the true way is, to feare the power of God.

Homer in his Iliads bringeth in Helen, vsing these termes to king Priam, Surely deare Lord and father in law, I doe both feare you and honor you, because we ordinarily reuerence those whom we feare. And therefore neere to the common hall of the Ephores in Sparta, there was a chappell dedicated to Feare; for feare doth alwaies accompany shame. Also it is a very commendable thing to be affraid of vnhonesty, and yet not to be afraid to be counted vnhonest. As for example, when one vpon a time vpbraided Xenophanes the son of Lagus, that he was fearefull and durst not play at dice; I confesse (quoth he) that I am not only fearefull, but also exceeding fearefull, but that is but in things vnhonest. For honourable is that feare that restraineth a man from doing euill.

As touching meekenesse or meeldnesse, it beseemeth a prince very well. For it maketh him gentle, courteous, and affable. And it is one of the three vertues which Dauid would haue in a king. For in the xliiij Psalme, Ride on (saith he) and raigne, because of thy meekenesse, iustice, and truth. And this vertue is contrarie to choleriknesse, hasti­nesse, or fumishnesse, which ought to be far off from a prince, as the which doth too much blind him, and bereaue him of reason and iudgement. A man ought to be angry▪ at sinne. But to be angrie with leaudnesse and leaud persons, is very well done, prouided that it be not in such sort as it extend to sinne; according to this saying of the Psalmist, Be angrie, but sinne not in your hearts.

And for as much as I will treat hereof more largely when I come to speake of anger or wrath, and of meeldnesse [Page] or meek [...]nesse, I will content my selfe for the present, to haue shewed the passions of the mind, as it were at a glance, which though they seeme at the first blush to encounter against ver­tue, be such neuerthelesse, as a well-disposed mind may great­ly helpe it selfe by them, and make them to serue to very good end, and so alter the shape of them, as that the thing which seemed euill, shall fall out to be good and commendable.

CHAP. XI. Whether Vertue and Honestie be to be seperated from profit, in matters of gouernment or state.

BVt I feare least by standing too long vpon matter of Manners, I forslow the matters of State, and that in going about to make a prince vertuous, I make him a prince mis­aduised. For oftentimes the managing of publike affairs is such, that he must rather haue regard of the present case, how to wind himselfe out of the briers, and to get out of some shrewd pinch, than to stand musing vpō vertue, because that they which do so busie their heads, doe often times suffer their state to be lost.

If Brutus that conspired against Caesar, had not bene too spice-conscienst, saying it was not lawfull to kill any other than a tyrant, but had beleeued the counsell of Cassius, he had not left Antonie the tyrants friend behind, by whose death, the common-weale had bene discharged of al danger. In so much that one little sparke of conscience, procured vnto Brutus the losse both of his owne life, and of the libertie of his countrie. The first Brutus did not so, Sometimes a State is pre­serued by Crueltie. for it liked him better to vse cruel­tie, in putting his own childrē to death, than to leaue any little match of conspiracie against the state: and this barbarous cru­eltie and vnkindnesse of his, saued the common-weale. When Cabades king of Persia was cast in prison by his subiects that [Page] had rebelled against him and chosen one Blases in his steede▪ this Blases entered into counsell, what was to be done with Cabades. The most part were of opinion, that he should not be put to death, but that he should be kept in prison. Other­some gaue counsell that he should be dispatched, among whom Gusanascades one of the greatest lords, deliuering his opinion, shewed them a little pen-knife wherewith he was wont to pare his nailes, and said vnto them, Ye see this little cuttle; this same may now without any paine and without any danger, doe that which twentie thousand men cannot doe hereafter. And euen so it came to passe in deed. For Cabades getting out of prison recouered his kingdome, and putting out Blases eies with scalding oyle, laid him in prison, and put Gu­sanascades to death. Theodatus (king of the Gothes) was loath to kill Amalasont, being an honourable and vertuous prin­cesse, and wife of Theoderik, and mother of Athalarik; but in the end he dispatched hir at the persuasion of such as told him that his life could not else bee in safetie. In state of go­uernment things must oft be done according [...]o the necessitie of the time. Theophrast reporteth of Aristides that in priuate cases betweene man and man, he was a perfect, vpright, and iust-dealing man; but in matters of gouernment concerning the common-weale, he did many things, according to the necessitie of the time.

The Athenians in the conference which they had with the Melians, said that the Lacedemonians vsed much vertue among themselues, and in the things that concerned their lawes and customes at home: but in their behauior towards strangers, they were a people that esteemed that to be most honest and reasonable, which was most for their profit. Euphe­meus an Athenian, said to the Camerins, that the man which raigneth by tyrannie, and a citie that hath an empire, deeme nothing vnhonest that may be for their profit, nor account a­any thing theirs which is not safe guarded; and in all cases they esteeme others to be their friends or foes, according to the occasion of time and dealings.

Plutarch speaking of Marius, saith he made reckoning of iustice when it was for his owne behoofe, and tooke profit [Page] both for iustice and honor, not considering that truth is more strong and mightie than falshood, but measuring the valew of them both by the profit that might rise thereof, and saying that when a lions skin will not sted a mans turne, The skin of a fox must be matched with the skin of a lion. he must take vnto it the skin of a fox. This hath bin the cause, that the best aduised which haue written of gouernment, and they also which haue practised it, haue not stood so much vpon ver­tue, as vpon the occurrence of matters; insomuch that they haue said, That a prince oftentimes for the compassing of his affaires, must be faine to behaue himselfe contrarie to faith, contrarie to charitie, contrarie to humanitie, and contrarie to religion. But this opinion, notwithstanding that it be followed of the most part of the world; yet doe I find it farre distant from our religion, and from all that an honest man ought to doe. For God putteth no difference betweene a prince and a priuat person, in cases concerning vertue or vice. Antigonus the great, whom men would haue made to beleeue that all things are lawful for kings; Ye say truth (quoth he) for barba­rous kings; but vnto vs, that which is iust of it selfe, is alwaies iust; and that which is euill is alway euill. And to say tr [...]th, we see not that writers doe make two kinds of vertue, the one peculiar to princes, the other to priuat persons. For were it law­full for a prince or for a common weale, to doe euill for pro­fits sake; it ought as well to be permitted also to the priuat person: for at least wise by the example of his prince, he will dispence with himselfe for doing good. But God will not haue vs to doe euill, for any good that may come thereof, no not euen though it be for the benefit of a whole realm. Therfore the foresaid proposition cannot be avowed of a christian with a safe conscience, seeing it is disallowed by the heathen. And to root it out of the hearts of princes, I am faine to set downe word for word (howbeit briefly) the same things that Cicero in his third booke of dueties setteth downe at large, leauing the rest to diuines, who match their reasons with the word of God, the only thing that is able to captiue a louely and right meaning mind.

[Page 79]Now then, it is not only by our religion, that we be war­ned thereof, but also by the wise Infidels, according to this saying of Socrates, the wisest of them all, namely, That those haue done amisse, which haue seperated honesty and ver­tue from profit; seeing they ought of nature to goe iointly together. For a man can not bee said to profit himselfe, when he offendeth against nature. And there is not any thing more against nature, and against the lawe of man, than to take from another man, wherewith to profit a mans selfe: for nature can-not abide, that we should encrease our wealth by the spoiling and robbing of other men. It is better to be poore than to doe wrong. So that the man which obayeth nature, and followeth kindlie inclination, cannot find in his heart to hurt his like, but will rather chuse to be poore and to endure hardnesse, than to do another man harme, especially considering that the hurt of the soule, (which is vice or sinne) is an hundred fold worse than the hurt of the body.

By the law of nature we should doe good one to another, and they that doe otherwise, doe take away societie from among men, the taking away whereof maketh goodnesse, iustice, and liberalitie to be laid a-water. And therfore when­soeuer profit steppeth before our face, If profit be mingled with sinne, we must let profit goe. it is hard for vs to es­cape prouocation: but when we haue bethought vs of it at leisure, then if we find that the profit is intermedled with vice, we must let the profit goe, and persuade our selues, that wheresoeuer sinne is, there can be no profit indeed. And seeing that there is not any thing more contrarie to nature, than sinne is; because nature requireth nothing but that which is good, neither is any thing more agreeable to nature than profit; it is very hard for vice & profit to match together in one ground. And for as much as vertue surmounteth and sur­passeth all things; it is very behooffull and needfull that the soueraigne good should consist in vertue. Now as that which is good is behoofful & profitable; so that which is honest is pro­fitable also. The wicked beholding an outward shew of profit, doe run after it, not perceiuing into what inconuenience they [Page 80] fall by doing euill: by reason whereof they peruert the lawes both of God and man, which thing he that liueth after the law of nature doth not. Yet notwithstanding oftentimes there happen cases which put euen the best to their shifts, A case where­in the out­ward appea­rance of pro­fit is followed. by reason of the profit that offereth it selfe vnto them. Not that they consult whether honesty and vertue be to be left; but whether the thing that is profitable may be done with­out sinne. As for example, To the intent to wipe the name of the Tarquins cleane out of Rome, Brutus caused Tarqui­nius Collatinus the husband of Lucrece, to bee discharged of the dignitie of Consulship, and to be put out of the citie. This seemed a peece of wrong, because this Collatinus him­selfe had helped to expulse the kings. But for so much as it was found vpon good aduise, that the very remembrance of that so odious name, was to be vtterly abolished: the thing being profitable for the common-weale, imported also so much honestie, that Collatinus himselfe ought also to thinke well thereof; and so profit preuailed for honesties sake, with­out the which it had bin no profit in deed.

There is another case, wherein profit and honestie seeme to encounter one another, by reason of the rigour, and yet notwithstanding, the chiefe regard is to be had of the pro­fit, because it fighteth not against nature. As for exam­ple, It is permitted you by the law of nature, to repulse the iniurie that is done vnto you, and for performance thereof, some-times a prince is driuen to doe rigourous executions, and such as may seeme too too cruell; as Thomiris queene of the Massagets did, who hauing vanquished king Cirus in battel, slew him and two hundred thousand men with him; so as not any one escaped the sword.

This or the like execution were euill in a captaine, that should doe it vpon cold blood, or quiet deliberation, as Silla did at Rome. But when a prince, whom God hath armed to defend himselfe, repelleth iniurie by force, and putteth his enemies to the sword; Crueltie in defending, is not vnhonest. although it seeme a cruell deed, yet is it not altogether against honestie and honor. For the death [Page 81] of the enemies is the welfare of the common-weale, against whom as a prince ought not to vse any treason or treachery wherby to kill them: so if in assailing the prince, they chance to fall into his hands, it is at his pleasure to do what he findeth behooffull for his owne safety, according to the law of arms, for it is not vnmeet that they should fall into the same net which they had laid for him. Had the Samnits vsed the way of extreame crueltie against the Romanes, Enemies must either be won by some sin­gular courte­sie, or dispat­ched with ri­gorous cruel­tie. when gentlenesse would not serue their turne, they had done the better for themselues, and they should haue learned by the effect, that the counsell of Herennius Pontius was verie good. For his son being captaine generall of the Samnits, set vnto him to haue his aduise, what he should do to the Romans, whom he held enclosed betwixt two moūtains. Herennius sent him word, that he should send them home to Rome, without doing them any displeasure; thinking that for so notable a benefit, they would of enemies become thensfoorth good and faithfull friends. And when he saw that this counsell liked not the Samnits, he counselled them to put them all to the sword, without sparing any one of them, for he thought that so great a losse would so greatly weaken the Romans, as they shold not be able to recouer themselues a long time after.

This opinion seemed also ouer-cruell, and so they chose a meane way, which was to saue the Romanes liues, and to bereaue them of their armour and weapon, and of their stuffe, with some other conditions: which afterward was the confusion of the Samnits. Likewise the Euthalibians committed a great ouersight, in that they dispatched not the Persians, when they had them shut vp almost after the afore­said maner; or sent them not home in friendly sort, but did neither of both. For they sent them away without hurt; but they compelled Perosas the king of Persia, to adore their king, and to promise them vpon his oath, neuer to make war on them afterward. Neuerthelesse, as soone as Perosas was de­liuered of the danger, he made sharper warre vpon them, than he had done afore, in reuenge of the iniutie and disho­nour [Page 82] that they had done vnto him. For in matter of state a prince must either deserue well of his enemies, by some singular courtesie, or make cleane riddance of them, if it lie in his hand to doe it. I would alway counsell him to follow courtesie.

But yet he may haue to doe with such kind of men, that it shall stand him on hand, to vse rigour rather than gentlenes, as is to be seene in the deed of queene Thomiris, where al­beit that the reuenge of hir sonnes death prouoked hir to kill Cirus: yet was it moreouer expedient also for hir state, to doe it in such sort as she did. Crueltie is to be vsed a­gainst stran­gers that come to make con­quest. For a prince that commeth out of a farre countrie, to conquer a realme, whereunto hee cannot pretend any right, will not lightly be paied with such clemencie. For his intent is to possesse himselfe of it by some means or other, and oftentimes for the bringing ther­of to passe, to make vtter slaughter and destruction of the in­habitants thereof, as the children of Israell did, when they came into the land of Promise.

Well might Charles Martell haue done all the courte­sies that could be vnto the Sarsines; but yet would not that haue made them forbeare to inuade the realme of France. And therefore the best way was to fight it out with them, and to ouerthrow them vtterly. If Aetius being aided by the Frenchmen, had not fought with Attila to the vt­terance in France, it had beene vnpossible for him to haue got him thence by faire means; and yet because he made not cleane riddance of him, a man may see what mischiefe came of it.

It is noted as a fault in Constantine, that when he had van­quished the Vandales, Sweuians, and Alanes, he pursu­ed not his victorie in putting them all to the sword, but gaue them respit to resemble themselues againe, where­by they became as strong as he. Darius offered Alexander his daughter, a very beautifull Lady, with six millions of monie, and the one halfe of Asia; but Alexander would not admit that honourable offer, because his couetous­nesse [Page 83] was vnmeasurable. By reason whereof, had good fortune gon on Darius side, he had plaied an vnwise part, if he had not slaine Alexander and all his armie without mercie.

Manfred king of Naples, was willing to haue made peace with Charles duke of Aniou; but Charles would ne­uer hearken vnto it, because he grounded his right vpon the sword, and was bent to be king of Naples whatsoeuer it did cost him. With whom courtesie and gentlenesse is to be vsed. Courtesie and clemencie are to be vsed among neighbours that striue but for their bounds, for hatred, or for honour. For they that are so vanquished, are alwaies mindful of the courtesie that hath beene done vnto them, and of the means to requite it, whereof in the fourth booke of Kings, the sixt chapter, we haue a notable example' in the king of Israel, who by the aduise of the prophet Elizeus, in steed of putting the Assyrians his enemies to death, which were come to seeke him, caused them to be entertained with all kind of good cheere, and sent them home without doing them any harme; by means whereof, whereas they had bin his sworne enemies, he made them his good friends. So also did Ptolomie, who hauing ouercome Demetrius, and put his host to flight at the citie Gaza, restored him his treasure and all his stuffe, with eight thousand prisoners, saying that he stroue not with him, for honour and empire. And Demetrius receiuing those things at his hand, prayed God he might not continue long his debter for that courtesie; and euen so it came to passe. For anon after Demetrius ouercame Ptolomie, and hauing ta­ken his treasure, & also seuen thousand prisoners, sent all home againe to him, and moreouer gaue presents to euerie of the prisoners whom he sent backe. The case standeth otherwise with him that commeth a farre off, to make conquest of a countrie. For his intent is to dispossesse them against whom he maketh warre, and to make cleane riddance of them, as we haue seene in the Saxons, Englishmen, Burgonions, French­men, Turks, Gothes, and Lumbards, who haue continued owners of the lands which they inuaded. And if they had not [Page 84] had the vpper hand of fortune, doubtlesse not so much as one had bin fuffered to escape. Wicked coun­sell giuen by the pope. That is the cause why the pope, after that Charles of Aniou, had gotten the vpper hand of Conradine and the Sweuians, councelled him to cut off Conradines head, sending him word in a word or twaine of latin, That the life of Conradine was the death of Charles, and the death of Conradine was Charles his life. But sauing the re­uerence of the pope and of duke Charles, albeit this way see­med most profitable, yet ought it not to haue bin followed, because it was scarce honorable, seeing that Conradine had escaped the furie of the battell, and his quarrell was iust, in recouery of his kingdome, which his base brother Manfred had first vsurped from him, and Charles had woone away from Manfred.

Man-slaugh­ters commit­ted vpon qui­et deliberati­on, are disal­lowed.Such man-slaughters done vpon quiet determination, and out of the heat of conflict in battell, are disallowed both of God and man. In confirmation whereof, I must needs alleage a certaine text out of the third chapter of the second booke of Samuel. There were in Iury two braue captaines, named Abner and Amasa, which had borne arms for king Saul against Dauid, and Dauid after Sauls death had pardoned them. But Ioab, Dauids constable, being ouer-zealous of his maisters honour, forbare not for all that to kill them both; which doing of his, Dauid so greatly misliked, that he prote­sted before God and the people, that he was guiltlesse of their blood. And to shew that he was so vnfainedly, al­though he punished it not during his life, yet did he take order for the punishing thereof afore his decease, saying thus vnto Salomon his sonne, Dauids iudge­ment vpon Ioab for mur­thering Abner and Amasa. Thou knowest what Ioab did vnto the captaines of the host of Israell, namely vnto Abner and Amasa, whom he slew and shed their blood in peace as it had beene in warre, and put the blood of battell vpon his girdle that was vpon his reins: looke therefore that thou deale with him according to thy wisedome, and suffer not his hoare head to goe downe to his graue in peace. Dauid beeing persecuted by Saul, had him at an aduantage, [Page 85] when he found him in the caue, and might very well haue done him displeasure▪ but would not. But had that good poli­tike fellow Ioab bin there, he would no more haue suffered Saul to escape than he suffered Absolon.

Now to come againe to our matter, like as God gaue the victorie at that time to the aforesaid duke Charles; so at another time he made his heire the prince of Salerne to loose the field, and to be taken and condemned to haue his head stricken off, as the said Conradine had had afore. And when this sentence was pronounced vpon him, which was on a Friday; he answered he was contented to take his death with patience, for the loue of him which suffered death on the like day. The mercifull dealing of queene Con­stance. But when Constance the queene heard of this his answer, she said, that for the loue of him which had suffered death for vs, she was determined to shew mercy to the prince; and without doing him any further harme, she sent him to Cata­loine to the king hir husband, full sore against the peoples will, who would haue had him put to death. In which action we haue to consider one notable thing; namely, that Charles who had slaine Manfred in battell, and put to death both Conradine, and his cosen the duke of Austrich, vnder forme of iustice, could not keepe his kingdome so long time to his po­steritie, as the heire femall of Manfred did by vsing fauor and mercie. But when a stranger hauing no former quarrell, comes with a great number of men to inuade a countrie; I beleeue it shalbe well done of him that getteth the victorie, to let none of his enemies escape, least their inlargement prouoke them to set a new voyage abroche, as the Frenchmen did in Gallia, and the Gothes in Italy.

Againe, there is no loue or kindnesse to be hoped for at such folks hands. But out of that case, Crueltie is not to be vsed for the main­teinance of a state. I see not that crueltie ought to be vsed for the maintaining of any state; and as for to leaue vertue for profit, it ought not to be so much as once thought. Augustus for the better assuring of his state, caused Cesarion the sonne of Iulius and Cleopatra to be slaine. It may be perchance that in so doing, he delt for his profit, but surelie [Page 86] he delt not vertuously. Contrariwise, Sextus Pompeius who had the staffe in his owne hand, to haue killed Augustus and An­tonie, his enemies, delt honorably in letting them goe, but to his owne destruction, which thing he chose rather to doe, than to falsifie his faith, as I will declare anon more at large, I could alleage many mo examples of euill princes, which haue finished their daies in wretchednesse, and lost their king­domes, or at the leastwise their children after them, whom I will omit for briefnesse sake, Of Caesar Bor­gia. speaking but only of Caesar Bor­gia; that we may see whether such a prince can be had in estimation. I am well assured that to lay the foundation of his principalitie, (which came to him but by fortune as they say) he had many things to do, the which he brought al to passe by his wit. But yet can I not allow that maner of dealing. For he caused the Columnians to be destroyed by the Vrsines, and af­terward dispatched the Vrsines too, for feare least they should take part against him. He vsed the helpe of the Frenchmen, to get possession of Romania, and afterward draue them out when he was peaceably setled in it. To purchase the peoples fauour, he executed rigorous iustice vpon theeues, robbers, and extortionors; and for the doing thereof, he set vp a very good and seuere Iusticer, named Remy Orke. Afterward percei­uing that his ouer-rigorous iustice procured him some hatred; to root that conceit out of their imaginations, and to shew that that came not of him, but of his officer; he made maister Remy Orke to be cut in two pieces, and to be laid in an open place with a bloodie knife by him. I see not wherein this duke Valentine is to be allowed; I beleeue he was well aduised what he did, and assaied all the means he could to make his owne profit; but that profit was vtterly seperated from vertue.

What policie was it to kill folke by trecherous sleights and treason, which had neuer trespassed him either in word or deed? What a reward was that for a iudge to receiue, for doing his duetie, and for seruing him faithfullie? If such princes may bee allowed, then shall murther and frawd [Page 87] be no vice, so it bring profit. And then let vs take Socrates his saying the contrary way, and say that vertue ought to attend vpon profit. And so should it follow of consequence, that whosoeuer could deale most for his owne profit, should be the best and honestest man. But all the paine that this wretched prince tooke to stablish his state, stood him in small steed. For he vtterly forwent it, and was deceiued himselfe, as he had deceiued others.

Thucidides in his historie, interlaceth a notable saying of the Corinthians, which was spoken to the counsell of the Athenians, If a man will say (saith he) that that which we say is very reasonable, but that the opinion of the other side is the more profitable, if there be warre; we answere, that the more vprightly men walke in all things, the more is it com­monly for their profit. There is no profit with­out vertue. Therefore it is most expedient for a prince that wil not faile of his purpose, to fix his eye continual­ly vpōn vertue, and to set it before him as his marke to shoot at, and to assure himselfe that he cannot haue profit without vertue.

Vpon a time Themistocles told the Athenians, that he had a way to make them great, yea and lords of all Greece, but that the same was not to be imparted to any mo than one, least it should be knowne. Hereupon the Athenians chose Aristides to take notice of his deuice. Vnto whom Themistocles declared, that the nauie of the Lacedemoni­ans might easily be set on fire, whereby it would be an easie matter to vanquish them. When Aristides had heard the counsell of Themistocles, he went vp into the pulpit with great expectation of the Athenians, and told them that Themistocles had giuen a woonderous behoof­full and profitable counsell, but it was not honest, where­upon the Athenians, without hearing any further what it was, disallowed the counsell of Themistocles, as not good.

At such time as Pirrhus made warre with the Romans, one of his people came to Fabritius, being then Consul at Rome, & [Page 88] proferred him to poison the king. Fabritius without taking any further counsell, sent backe the traitor vnto Pirrhus: and this his deed was allowed and commended of the senat.

Wickednesse is not ac­companied with honor.If soueraigntie be sought for honors sake, then must tre­cherie be banished; for trecherie is not accompanied with honor. If for goods, neither can goods doe a prince good, be­ing matched with infamie and dishonour. And as touching that which Theophrast saith of Aristides, That hee did ma­ny thinges acording vnto the necessitie of the time; we find not so much as any one deed of his that may bee ac­counted vniust, sauing that when the citie of Athens wanted money, he propounded in counsell whether they should take away the gold that had bin laid vp in store in the temple of Apollo, at Delphos in the isle of Delos, contrarie to an article of the league that was concluded by oath, among all the Greeks; and therevpon gaue his aduise, that it was behoofful, but not rightfull. As much said he of the counsell of Themi­stocles, which I haue declared alreadie. Neuerthelesse, in the first, the Athenians followed vprightnesse, and in the later they followed their profit, or rather necessitie, which hath no law. But to say the truth, neither the one nor the other was to be imputed vnto Aristides, but to the Athenians themselues, in that they resolued themselues vpon the counsell that was giuen them, without following any other opinion, than that which liked them best. But as for Marius, The blame of Marius. there is no recko­ning at all to be made of him, no more than of a man that was ambitious, without law and without conscience, as he shewed in many things, and specially in this fact following; namely that being at Rome about his affaries, whereas he ought to haue spoken well of Metellus his captaine generall, he gaue him very euill reports to the people, as though he had prolonged the warre of purpose, saying that if he himselfe were made consul, he would dispatch the matter out of hand, and bring them Iugurth either quick or dead. To be short, he sped so well by playing the courtier, that he was made Con­sul; but in the meane while he falsified his faith, and wrong­fully [Page 89] slaundered a man of great honour. But Silla paid him with the like measure; for he challenged to himselfe the honour of the taking of Iugurth prisoner, wherevpon sprang all the bloo­die quarrels that ensued afterwards betwixt them. Thus yee see how the wicked are oftentimes paid with the same coine which they gaue vnto others. And I maruell how there should be any that would loose their reputation for the gaine of a little profit. For what profit can be comparable to disho­nour? Soothly there is no difference whether a man be chan­ged into a beast, or whether hee play the mad beast in the shape of man. Wherefore seeing the thing cannot bee estee­med profitable, which is full of villanie and wickednesse; we ought to beleeue most certainly that nothing is behooffull and profitable, but that which is honest and vertuous.

CHAP. XII. That a Prince ought not to falsifie his faith, for the maintainance of his state.

IF this proposition hold stedfast & sure, the case is fully resolued by vs, con­cerning this doubt vpon faith in mat­ters of state, Whether a prince ought to keepe his promise or no. Faith (saith Cicero) is the foundation of iustice and right, and is a constant and soothfast opinion (or setled determination of mind) to keepe and performe that which is once spoken and agreed vpon. The definition of Fait [...], or Faithfulnesse.

Vnto this Faith, Numa Pompilius dedicated a temple, to the intent that by that point of superstitiō, the people of Rome should learne to esteeme faithfulnesse as a godly and pretious [Page 90] thing, and afterward the Romans placed the image therof in the Capitol, nere vnto the image of the great God Iupiter, to the end that no man should be so bold and presumptuous, as to violat so sacred and holy a thing. In so much that the holiest and greatest oath that they could skill to make, was to sweare by their Faith, as the thing which they accounted most diuine, and (as Cas [...]iodorus saith) most beloued of God, and most reue­renced of men. For how could mans frailtie be vpheld among so many waues and storms, if there were no firmenesse in the doings and saiengs of princes? Among fellowes, faithfulnesse maintaineth friendship. It maketh seruants to obey their mai­sters with all integritie. It maketh vs to serue God, and to wor­ship his diuine maiestie with deuout beleefe: and to conclude in one word, whatsoeuer we see to be well done, commeth of vnchangeable faithfulnesse. And yet for all that, we see that those which are best able to keepe it, doe make least account of it, specially in matters of state, because (say they) a prince is faine to promise many things for the maintainānce of his estate, which he being once out of those dealings, is not bound to performe. And as Plutarch saith in the life of Pirrhus, Princes vse the two termes of Peace and War, Princes vse the termes of Peace & War, as they doe monie. as they do their coine; namely, as it may best serue their owne turne, not for duties sake, or for iustice sake, but for their owne profit: and they be better men when they confesse roundly that they make war, than when they cloke the surceassing or intermitting of their wicked intent, with the holy names of Iustice and Friendship. And as saith Paulus Iouius, the Faith of some kings is such, that they stick not to violat and breake the most sacred couenants of accord, at their pleasure; specially when they haue once re­solued themselues to intend to nothing but their owne present profit, and to applie themselues only to the time. Archidamus being desirous to make the Athenians to breake the league of peace, that had bin made with Antigonus, and perceiuing they stack at it for their promise sake; told thē there was difference between a man and a sheepe, for a sheepe had but all one kind of voice, but a man had diuerse sorts, so as he might change his [Page 91] voice continually, vntill he had brought to passe what he would. As who would say, Faithfulnesse was but for fooles that could no skill to dissemble, as hauing but one maner of speech for all turns; but men of wit altered their maner of doing and speaking, according as occasion or need required. When Lisander was blamed for breaking the peace that had bin with the Milesians, Men be de­ceiued by oathes. he answered, That children were to be beguiled with little bones, & men with othes. The tyrants Deuis and Policrates, said as much in that behalfe. Marius esteemed it a point of vertue and high courage, to be skilfull in cosenage, as Plutarch reporteth of him in his life. There is an Italian author, Machiauel. who in his booke of a Prince, saith that in his time the princes that haue made none account of their faith, haue become great, and haue passed those that haue grounded themselues vpon faithfulnesse. And he will haue a prince to be of two natures, the one of beast, the other of man; and that when the nature of man will not preuaile, he should haue recourse to that of the beast. And that of the beasts, he should chuse the fox his nature, to discerne snares; and the lions, to put the woolues in feare. And therfore (saith he) a wise prince cannot keepe his faith, if this obseruation be turned the contrarie way. And because there be wicked men which keepe not their promise, neither ought he also to keepe touch with them. Among the examples of the princes of his time, he alleageth pope Alexander the sixt, who made no bones or conscience at al to deceiue men. Neuer was there any man (quoth he) that assured things with greater force of words, or affirmed them with greater othes, and that meant lesse good faith, or lesse perfourmed them: & yet notwithstan­ding his packings came alwaies to passe as he would wish, be­cause he gaue his mind to it. I cōfesse that the cosener, the hi­pocrit, & the dissembler, do cōmonly sooner dispatch his busi­nesse, than he that is open, No good man will euer lie for any profit or ad­uantage. plaine, honest, and faithfull: But it were better for a man not to haue so great successe, than to be deceitfull and wicked. And it were better for him to follow the counsell of Cicero in his books of Dueties, who [Page 92] sayth, That no good man will euer lie for his owne aduantage. For if he that dealeth altogither by frawd, be had in estimati­on; I see not in comparing the lesser with the greater, why either a shamelesse person or a theefe should be blamed, of whom neuerthelesse the one is hanged, and the other is poin­ted at with folks fingers, and baited out of all good mens com­panies. For their doing so, is but to auoid pouertie, and to find the means to liue vpon other mens purses, as the prince that is a deceiuer, is desirous to doe his affairs at the cost of his neigh­bour. True it is, that because he is a great lord, men say of him as a certain pyrat said of great Alexander, namely that because he himselfe roued but with one gallie, he was counted a rob­ber, and because Alexander went with a great number of ships, therefore he was counted a king, but in effect they were both of one trade, sauing that the one of them was rich, puissaunt, and well attended; and the other was poore and meanly ac­companied.

And as Plutarch saith in the life of Pyrrhus, kings and prin­ces must not blame priuat persons, though now and then they step aside, as opportunitie fitteth them for their profit; for in so doing, they doe but imitate their souereigns examples, and follow the footsteps of them that are their ringleaders, in all vntrustinesse, trecherie, and vnfaithfulnesse: as who would say, that he dispatcheth his businesse best, which least lifteth to obserue law and vprightnesse. But although some vnfaith­full prince doe happen to prosper, it dooth not therefore fol­low, that a faithfull prince cannot prosper. Titus, Traian, Anto­nine the meeke, M [...]rcus Aurelius, and other good emperors of Rome, haue obtained as many victories, yea, and haue also far better maintained their estate, than Tiberius, Nero, Caligula, Domitian, and such others.

A prince shuld haue skill of suttleties, to saue himselfe from them, but not to in­tangle others. Philip grew great by subtiltie, and Alexander his son con­quered the whole world by loialtie and magnanimitie. I be­leeue well that a prince ought to be sage and wel aduised, and to be skilfull both in playing the lion to encounter such as will assaile him, and in playing the fox to saue himselfe from the [Page 93] trains and snares that are layd for him, but not to intangle and intrap others.

After the battell of Cannas, which the Romanes lost vnto Hannibal, there were ten prisoners, who vpon safe conduct gi­uen them by Hanniball, tarried still at Rome contrarie to their promise giuen vnto him, but they were all denounced infa­mous, and one of them was sent backe againe vnto Hannibal, to doe what he would with him. The consul Regalus did not so, for he perfourming his promise, returned at the time which he had set, notwithstanding that he was sure to go to exquisit torments, that were prepared for him. The Carthaginenses hauing lost a battell vpon the sea against the Romans, sent A­milcar & Hanno to treat with them for peace. Amilcar would not put himselfe into the Romanes hands, because he had a little afore taken Cornelius Asina the consull prisoner, whome the Romanes had sent embassador thither. But Hanno sticked not to proceed foorth; and when he had begun to declare his message, a certaine Romane captaine sayd threatningly vnto him, that as much might befall him as had bene done to Cor­nelius. But the consuls putting the captaine to silence, The noble an­swer of the Romane Con­suls. told Hanno that the Faith of the empire of Rome, should deliuer them from that feare.

At such time as Tissaphernes brake the truce which hee had made with the Lacedemonians, Agesilaus sayd, he thanked the gods that Tissaphernes had angred them and offended them, and thereby made them gracious and fauourable to the La­cedemonians; esteeming it a thing very displeasant vnto God for a man to falsifie his faith. And therefore Mimus Publianus saith, That he which hath lost his credit, hath no more to lose, because the whole welfare and honour of a man dependeth thereupon. He sustains greater losse which looseth his credit, than he that loseth the thing that was promised him.

Bias said there was no excuse for a man that brake his pro­mise, because he that looseth the credit of his word, looseth more than hee that looseth the thing that was promised him. Cinna hauing sent for Marius, made it a matter of consultation whether he should receiue him or no. Sertorius was of opinion [Page 94] that he should not send for him; but Cinna told him, he could not with his honour refuse him, hauing sent for him. When Sertorius heard him say so, he told him he did amisse to make it a matter debateable whether he should receiue him or no, seeing he was come at his commaundement. For the binding of your faith (quoth he) suffereth not the matter to be deba­ted or consulted of any more.

Sextus Pompeius was aduertised by his admirall Menodorus, that now it was in his hand to be reuenged of the death of his father, and of his brethren, hauing both Augustus and Anto­nie at supper with him in his gallie: and that if Pompei would giue him leaue, he would vndertake to cause them to be drow­ned, and it should neuer be perceiued how. But Pompei sauou­ring of the antient honour of the Romans, answered the mes­senger thus, Tell Menodorus that he might well haue done it without me, seeing he maketh none account of periurie: but it cannot beseeme me to giue my consent vnto it, seeing I haue not bene woont to falfifie my faith. This faithfulnesse of the Romanes, was the cause that Ptolomei king of Aegypt com­mitted his yoong sonne in wardship to the people of Rome, who performed the charge with all integritie, and surrendred the kingdome againe into his hands, when he came to age. Ar­chadius leauing his sonne Theodosius in his minoritie, Faith tieth the hands euen of enemies. and being at his wits end whome he might leaue to be his protector, and aboue all others fearing the Persians; determined with him­selfe vpon aduice, to cōmit the charge thereof by his last Will in writing, vnto Indisgertes king of Persia, and to set his Faith as a shield against his force, and to tie his hands with the holy band of Protectorship, praieng him to keepe and preserue the empire for his sonne. Indisgertes taking the protectorship vpon him, executed it so faithfully, that he preserued both the life and empire of Theodosius.

The faithful­nesse of king Lewis the xij. Don Philip of Austrich, king of Castile, and lord of the Low countries, considering how he left his sonne Charles not aboue eleuen yeres old, & that afore he should be of ful age, the king of France might inuest himselfe in the Low-countries: to pre­uent [Page 95] this inconuenience, did by his testament ordaine king Lewis the twelfth to be his protector. Wherupon the king by consent of the country, appointed the lord of Chieures to be gouernor there, and neuer made any warre vpon him, not­withstanding that Maximilian gaue him sufficient causes to haue done it. Licurgus being counselled therto by his coun­trymen, and also by his sister in law the queene, to take vpon him the kingdome of Lacedemon, after the death of his bro­ther: would not hearken vnto it, but kept it faithfullie for his nephew Charilaus, who was borne after his fathers decease; chusing rather to be a faithfull protector, than an vnfaithfull king: cleane contrarie to Lewis Sfortia, who of a Gardian, made himselfe duke of Millan, dispossessing his nephew Iohn Ga­leas and his posteritie thereof; But he kept it not any long time. In all the doings of these good princes, there was nei­ther oth nor promise, but only a good and sincere will, to keep touch with such as had relied vpon the trust of their faithful­nesse. For whersoeuer there hath passed either oath, or single promise, good men haue neuer doubt but it was to be kept, as the forealleaged examples may witnesse vnto vs. A periured person and a liar are very nigh all one And Cice­ro in one of his orations saith, That the Gods immortall do punish a periured person and a liar both with one punishment, because they be offended at the trecherie and malice wher­by men be beguiled, rather than at the prescript forme of words and couenants, wherin the oth is comprised. But when­soeuer an oth was added vnto it, they held it and kept it, what­soeuer it cost them: as we see in the Poets, concerning the vow of Agamemnon, the which is like inough to haue beene counterfaited out of the historie of Ieptha. Of Oth [...]. In the xxiij and xxx of Deut. it is written thus, If a man be bound by oth, he shall performe whatsoeuer he hath promised. And Cicero in his bookes of Duties, saith, That we ought in any wise to keepe the promise wherein we call God to witnesse. And as Sophocles saith, He that that sweareth, ought to be sore afraid that he sinne not against God. The Aegyptians did punish periured persons with death, because they sinned [Page 96] double, as well in violating religion towards God, as in taking away faithfulnesse from among men, the greatest and straigh­test bond of humane societie.

The reuerēce of an oath.After the battell of Cannas, Scipio being aduertised that certaine senators held a counsell in secret, how to forsake the citie of Rome; went suddenly in among them with his naked sword in his hand, and made them to sweare that they should not for any cause forsake the citie; which thing they durst not but performe, for feare of their oath. As likewise did a cer­taine Tribune, who for feare of death, had promised Torqua­tus to withdraw his accusation which he had exhibited against his father; for hee withdrew it indeed for his oath sake, not­withstanding that Torquatus had compelled him thereto by force, in holding his swords point to his throat. So great reue­rence did the men of old time yeeld vnto an aoth.

The Samnits hauing warred long time with the Romans, and being almost vtterly destroied, would needs for their last refuge put thēselues once more to the trial of fortune (whome they had found so contrarie vnto them) and hazard all in one battell. And for the better executing of their determination, they sware by great oathes euerichone of them, that they would neuer retire out of the battel, but follow their captaine whether soeuer he led them, and if any of them all recoiled, they sware all to kill him. This oath had such force, that neuer any people were seene to fight so desperatly and valeantly, as they fought at that time. Neuerthelesse, the valiancie & good gouernment of the Romanes was of more force than their stoutnesse.

The oath of Proculus.The thing that made the people of Rome beleeue that Romulus was not slaine, but conueied vp into heauen, vvas the great oth that Proculus sware vnto them that he saw him dei­fied, and had spoken vvith him. For the people were of opini­on, that Proculus whom they esteemed to be a good man, and a friend to Romulus, would not haue taken such an oth, except he had bene sure that the thing was as he affirmed.

Lycurgus, to the intent his countrimen should not disanull [Page 97] the lawes which he had newly stablished among them: al­though he had gotten them ratified by the oracle of Apollo, yet would needs take an oth of the people, and caused them to sweare, that they should not infringe them vntill his return, to the end that the reuerence of the oth which they had ta­ken, might restraine them from altering any thing. After the example of whome, christian princes ought to bee well ware, that they violat not their faith, nor see light by the oth which they take for performance of their promises. An example of the despi­sing of oths and vowes. Wherof we haue a notable example in the fourteenth chapter of the first booke of Samuel, where God is very sore angrie, for that Ionathas the sonne of king Saul, in chasing his enemies, had tasted a little ho­nie; which was in respect of the oath which Saul had made, that neither he nor any of his people should eat any thing be­fore night, and afore hee had bene fully reuenged of his ene­mies. In so much that although Ionathas was not present at the making of the vow, yet had Saul put him to death, if the peo­ple had not saued him.

And in the one and twentith of the second booke of Sa­muel, because Saul being moued with a good zeale had slaine certaine of the Amorrhits, contrarie to the promise made vn­to them by the Israelits of old time, that they would not hurt them; God sent a famine among the Israelits, which ceassed not vntill they had deliuered seuen of Saules children to the Amorrhits, to take vengeance of them.

These examples shew how greatly our God abhorreth periurie, to the intent no man should excuse himselfe vnder pretence that no touch is to be kept with him that breaketh his promise; or, that one cōpanion is to keepe touch with ano­ther, but not the master with his seruant, nor the christian with the infidel. For an oath ought to be so holy, and so had in re­uerence, that it should not be falsified for all the goods in the world. Promise is to be kept euen with the infi­dels. For as saint Ambrose sayth in his third booke of Du­ties, Promise is to bee kept euen with deceiuers and forsworne persons; and wee ought to set that before our eyes, which Ioshua did to the Gabaonits, who being afrayd of the Israelits, [Page 98] that did put all to the sword, pretended to be strangers come from a farre countrie, of purpose to ioine in league with them: and Ioshua beleeuing them to haue said truth, made a league with them. And by and by after, when their frawd was dete­cted, the people would haue serued them as they serued the rest: but Ioshua would not for his oths sake, but chose rather to keepe promise with the fraudulent, & to let the mis-beleeuing infidels liue, notwithstanding that God had commanded him to root them out, than to violat his promise giuen, in reuenge of their frawd. Whosoeuer deceiueth his brother (saith the sonne of Syrach) his sin shall be vpon him: and if he dissemble, he sinneth double; and if he sweare in vaine, he shall not bee iustified, but his house shall be full of tribulation. And in ano­ther place, Cursed (saith he) is he that is double-minded. And in the 59 Psalme, Dauid praieth God to shew no mercie or fauour, to such as deale maliciously of deceitfull purpose. Al­so the best reputation that a Prince can haue, Good princes ought to keep well their pro­mises. and best be­seeming his maiestie, is to keepe his promise, yea though hee haue not sworne vnto it. For good princes (said Traian) are more bound to performe their promises, than to accomplish the things that they themselues desire.

And therefore a prince ought not to falsifie his promise vn­der pretence of profit, nor to say that his counsell willeth it, or his estate requireth it. For he ought not to do any euill for the maintainance of his state. And hee that hath so discredited himselfe, shall not often recouer it, because he shall be taken and esteemed as a faithlesse prince; and if hee fortune to bee driuen to make any accord or league, it will be hard for him to be admitted into it, for the opinion that shall go of him: for as sayth Cicero, When a man is once periured, he may sweare by all the Gods, and no man will beleeue him.

And Guichiardine sayth, there is little sinceritie and faith­full dealing to be hoped for at that Princes hand, of whome men haue conceiued opinion, that he is a double and deceit­full person. Whereby it may come to passe, that hee shall lose more by shewing himselfe to be a periurer, than he can gaine [Page 99] by any profit whatsoeuer it seeme to be. Euill counsell turneth to the hurt of him that counselleth it. Besides that, it falleth out that oftentimes the deceiuer himselfe is deceiued, and that (as saith Hesiodus) euill counsell turneth to the hurt of him that giueth it. Lewis the eleuenth was a deepe dissembler, and of great forecast; but his dissimulation was like to haue cost him his life. For the Duke of Burgoine detecting his trains, tooke him prisoner at Perone, and compelled him to graunt him whatsoeuer he required. Charles the seuenth who draue the Englishmen victoriously out of France, auailed more by his plaine dealing, than his sonne did by all his sleights and subtilties. Therefore whosoeuer will leaue a good and com­mendable remembrance of himselfe to posteritie, will rather forgoe some piece of wealth, than willinglie be counted a no­table deceiuer, periurer, and liar. And yet such doth Machia­uell tearme the princes of his time, that compassed their af­faires well. But yet for all that, he shall find the foundations which this cunning cosener and wilie beguiler laid of his house, by his subtill sleights, were such as ouerthrew it imme­diatly after his death. Neither is it for a man (when he hath sworne or promised a thing) to excuse himselfe, or to shift it off with captiousnesse of words, whereby he may seeme to haue accomplished his promise, Not what men say, but what they pre­tend, is to be regarded. when he hath not; For (as Cicero saith) Not what a man saith, but what he inten­deth and pretendeth to doe, is to bee regarded. As for example, when a prisoner that is let goe vpon promise to returne againe, faineth himselfe by and by to haue forgotten somewhat behind him, and thereupon comes backe againe, and after being cleane gone, returneth no more to his maister; saying that he had performed his promise, in that he had returned afore. Or as he that hauing made a truce with his enemies for eight daies, did war vpon them in the nights.

Herodotus reporteth a foule & shameful kind of dealing of one Amasis the colonel of king Darius footmē against the Bar­ceans, who perceiuing himselfe vnable to ouercome them by force, caused a great pit to be made in the night, the which he [Page 100] ouerlayd with timber well seasoned, and couered it ouer with earth in such sort, as no man could suspect any trench vnder­neath it. The next day hee came to treat with the Barceans vpon the sayd pit, where the Barceans on their part promised to pay tribute to Darius, and Amasis promised on the other part to vse them as friends, and not to make any warre vpon them, so long as the earth whereupon they then stood, con­tinued.

Vpon the concluding of the league in this maner, the Bar­ceans came to the campe of the Persians, and the Persians went into the citie, the gates wherof were set open vnto them. But suddenly he caused the timber to be pulled away, and so the earth sunke downe to the bottome of the pit, wherupon the Persians fell immediatly to sacking of the cittie; as who would say, they were discharged of their promise, because the earth there was not in like case as it was at the time that the peace was sworne.

The Flemings vsed the like cautell to couer their periurie; for at such time as the king of England dealt with Iaques of Arteuil, to get the Flemings to take his part, whereunto they would haue condescended, but for the oth which they had made to the king of France. To shift off this oath, and to cloke their periurie, Iaques aduised the king of England to proclaime himselfe king of France, and to beare the arms of France quar­tered with the arms of England, to the intent it might be said, that their bearing of armes was in the behalfe of the king of France. Which thing when the king of England had done, they turned to his side, without making any stay.

And wee must not thinke it strange, that some to main­taine their errour, doe very vnaduisedly alleage this Pro­uerbe spoken in Latine by Lewis the eleuenth, That he which can no skill to dissemble, There is great difference be­twixt dissimu­lation and dece­itfulnesse or guile. can no skill to reigne; as who would say, that all dissimulation were deceit: but there is a great deale of difference betwixt them; for dissimula­tion commeth of Wisedome, but deceit sauoureth of Rei­nard the Fox. To dissemble in time and place, is great [Page 101] wisdome. It is as much to say, as that a man must strike saile, and apply himselfe to the wind like a good pilot, & take good heed to the seasons. For sometimes it behooueth a man to be sterne, and somtimes to be meeld, and after a sort to abay the people, (at least wise so it be with some maiesty) to heare and see disorders, & to put vp wrongs, without saying any thing to them, and to say as Antigonus said to his sonne; Art thou ignorant my son, To raigne is but a kind of honourable bondage. that our raigning is nothing else than a cer­taine glorious bondage?

Among the sumptuous he must be bountiful, and with the moderat hee must vse moderation, as Alcibiades could well skill to doe, who by applying himselfe vnto the behauiors of all men, and to the customes of all nations, did purchase to himselfe their friendship. Brutus plaied the disard, to the in­tent that men should haue no mistrust of him, nor be priuie to the greatnesse of his courage. Clowis in not punishing a cer­taine souldier out of hand, that had denied him the vessell of S. Remy, did wisely, for feare of a mutinie among the men of warre; but yet he punished him afterward, howbeit after a barbarous fashion, in that he slew him with his owne hand. Lewis the eleuenth did now and then heare himselfe il spoken of, and wisely dissembled it. Such dissimulation is needfull for a king, and is expressed in the first booke of the Iliads of Ho­mer, vnder the person of Chalcas the soothsayer, who durst not tell the truth before king Agamemnon, nor from whence the plague proceeded that was as then in the campe of the Greeks, vntill Achilles had vndertaken to warrant him. For when a king (quoth he) is angrie, although hee make no outward countenance thereof, but dissemble it for the present time, yet will he not faile to be auenged af­terward.

It is another maner of thing to pretend to be a man of honestie, and to promise that which he intendeth not to performe, for that is called guile or deceit, and not dissimula­tion. I know well that a prince for want of aduisement and consideration, A prince is not to keepe his promise made by oth, if it be against the dutie be­tweene man and man. may make some oth which it were much bet­ter for him to breake than to keepe. As for example, Herod at the feast of his birth-day, sware that he would giue his daughter whatsoeuer she would aske: and she by hir mo­thers counsell, asked the head of S. Iohn Babtist. The king be­ing sory that he had sworne, but yet daring not falsifie his oth, caused his head to be smitten off. But had he bin a good man, he would in that case haue broken his oth. For in swea­ring to giue her any thing of how great value soeuer it were, he meant not to giue hir the life of any good man. And al­though he had so said, yet was not the oth to haue bin of any value or effect, being made against good behauior. For the vow that is made against vpright and iust dealing, is no vow at all, neither ought it in any wise to be kept or performed. In all cases where two incōueniences offer thēselues, alway the least is to be chosen. And therfore he should haue answered the faire lady, as Agesilaus answered a friend of his, that charged him with his promise in an vnreasonable thing that he deman­ded; who refusing to graunt his request, said, If the thing that you require be rightful, I promised it; if it be vnrightful, I pro­mised it not. A subiect ought not to require any thing that is vnreasonable. And when it was replied that a prince ought to performe whatsoeuer he promiseth; no more (quoth he) than the subiect ought to demaund any thing that is vnreasonable. Herod therfore was no more bound by his generall promise, to deliuer Iohn Baptists head, than Agetus was to deliuer his wife to his friend Ariston, vnder pretence of his oth. For Ari­ston [Page 103] being in loue with the wife of Agetus, a woman of excel­lent beautie, found this fraud to get hir out of hir husbands hands: He promised Agetus to giue him any one thing that he would chuse of all that euer he had, praying him to doe the like for him againe Agetus not mistrusting that Ariston being a maried man, would haue left his owne wife to take another mans, agreed to his request and sware it. Ariston discharged his owne promise out of hand; and when it came to his turne to make his demaund, he required the wife of Agetus; who ther­upon affirmed, that his meaning was to giue him any thing sa­uing hir. Neuerthelesse, although he was thus circumuented, yet deliuered he hir for his oths sake, making more account of his oth, than did a certaine Romane in the like case; who ha­uing sworne that he would neuer put away his wife, did put hir away afterward being taken in adultrie; howbeit not afore he had obtained a dispensation of his oth, at the hands of the emperor Vespa [...]ian. Which things serue well to shew, in what estimation an oth was had in time past, seeing that men would performe it, notwithstanding that they were beguiled in the making therof. The man that granteth ad­uisedly and vpon leisure­ly deliberati­on, ought no [...] to breake his promise. Much lesse then is he to be excused, which hauing aduisedly and vpon good deliberatiō, granted a thing, doth falsifie his promise, vnder colour that it is against the be­nefit of his realme. True it is that (as Cicero saith in his books of duties) if a man be drawne by deceit, or driuen by feare, to make any promise, he is discharged therof; but otherwise he ought to keepe it. And he shall find that his affaires shal pros­per better by keeping touch, than by vsing deceit; which ill­beseemeth all men, and chiefly those that are of greatest cal­ling. For (as saith Thucidides) deceit is alwaies more foule and shamefull, than violence; because violence is wrought by a kind of vertue, and by authoritie; but deceit proceedeth of very malice and mischieuousnesse.

CHAP. XIII. of Truth.

FOr as much as I haue spoken of falshood and deceit, against the which Mercurie the great opposeth truth; to the intent we may be the more prouoked to keepe our faith, and to performe our promises: This place inui­teth me to speake a word or twaine by the way in commen­dation of Truth, the which Plato termeth, The wel-spring of all good things. For as Plato saith in his Timaeus, Like as without being, there is no generation; so without Truth, there is no faithfulnesse. And therefore Dauid doth ordi­narilie take Truth for that same stedfastnesse which we haue in keeping our promise, which wee call Faithfullnesse. My meaning is not to speak here of the original truth, for that resteth alonly in God, accordingly as our Lord told the Iews, That he was the light and the truth. And this truth cannot be known of any, but only of the father of Truth, who is the e­uerlasting God, as saith Origen. For none but the father know­eth the son, neither doth any but the sonne know the father. And Mercurie in his chapter of Generation, saith, That the truth is a thing vncumbered, vnwithered, vnpainted, vn­disguised, vnmovable, vnueiled, apparant, comprehensible of it selfe, vnchangeably good, and spiritual. Wherin the antient Philosophers agree with vs, saying that we haue but a shadow of the Truth, & that the pure Truth is in heauen. Truth (saith Menander) is an inhabitant of heauen, and dwelleth with the gods. And the Persians worshipped a great God, which in body resembled the light, and in soule the Truth, as who would say, that God was light and Truth. Therefore of all the things that are on earth, none (as saith Mercurie in the xv. of his Pimander) can be called truth, but only an imi­tation [Page 105] of the truth. And whē the wit receiueth influence from aboue, then doth it imitate the truth: for without inworking from aboue, it abideth in vntruth; like as the shape of a man in a painted table, representeth a very bodie, but is not a body indeed as the eye imagineth it to be, in so much that although it seeme verily to haue eyes and eares, yet it neither seeth nor heareth at all: euen so the things that men behold with their eies are but leasings. Men beare themselues on hand that they see the truth, but in very deed they be but lies. For truth can­not be vpon earth; but yet it may be, that some men to whom God hath giuen power to see diuine things, do vnderstand the truth: howbeit, that is not the truth of speaking and vnderstan­ding things as they be indeed. For the very truth is the soue­reigne Good, and true things are the effects thereof, which are the off-springs or imps of truth. In so much that the truth which remaineth with vs in this world, is but a countershape and shadow of the very truth, the which we follow when wee forbeare frawd, lying, and deceit, and proceed in good & faith­full dealing, truth, and loialtie; according to this saying of the Psalmist, The works of Gods hands are truth and vprightnes, that is to say, Faithfulnesse; his commandements are made in truth, that is to say, in substantiall Faithfulnesse: which kepeth truth euermore, that is to say, which alwaies keepeth promise. The beginning of his word is Truth, that is to say, his word is a grounded stablenesse. And in another place, All thy com­maundements (sayth he) be Truth. To be true, is the beginning of all Vertue. For (as sayth Pindar) to be true of heart is the ground and foundation of all vertue. And therefore Dauid praieth God, not to take the word of Truth out of his mouth. And in the fourteenth Psalme he sayth thus, Lord who shall dwell on thy holy hill? he that dealeth iustly with his neighbour, and speaketh the truth from his heart, and beareth true witnesse. Wherein we haue to consider, that hee matcheth Righteousnesse and Truth together, as who would say, he esteemeth a soothfast man to be a righteous man, and a righteous man to bee a soothfast man; and hardly indeed can they be seuered, according to this saying of Dauid, in the [Page 106] 119 Psalme, Thou hast commaunded vprightnesse and truth aboue all things. Thou shalt haue folke at thy commaunde­ment, because of thy meekenesse, vprightnesse, and truth. The kings throne that iudgeth folke with truth, shall be stablished for euer. And Salomon in his Prouerbs sayth, That he which speaketh the truth, vttereth righteousnesse. And in another place he saith, That meeldnesse and truth, vphold and main­taine a king. Tbe mainte­nance of iu­stice depen­deth vpon truth. When Iethro councelled Moses to disburden himselfe of the paine of iudging perticular cases, he aduised him to chuse such men as were wise, true of their word, and fearing God; as who would say, that the maintenance of iu­stice depended vpon truth. After which maner, Marcus Au­relius said, That in an honest woman, truth & chastitie ought to be matched togither; and it was neuer seene but the wo­man that was true of word, The woman that is true of word, is also chast, was also chast; and that the liar was sildome chast. And as Varia Mesa was wont to say, It is no lesse shame for women that are come of good houses to be liars, than to be vnchast. Socrates would that a prince should aboue all things be true of his word, to the end that his bare word might be more esteemed than another mans oths. And Cicero in one of his orations saith, That he which shrinketh from the truth, Truth is a suf­ficient de­fence to him­selfe. will passe as little to forsweare himselfe, as to make a lie. And in another place he saith, that truth is of so great might, that it cannot be vanquished by any subtiltie or wilinesse whatsoeuer: and that it is a sufficient defence to it selfe, though it haue no man of law to plead for it. Euripides saith, That the word of truth is plaine, and needeth no interpreter. And Salomon saith, that the lip of truth is euer steadie, but the toung of falshood is euer variable. In all thy works let the word of truth goe before thee (saith the son of Sirach, in his third chapter) Pithagoras said, That when we exercise truth, we follow the foot-steps of God. Plato in his fift booke of Laws, saith, That truth is the guid to all goodnesse, be it to­wards God, or towards man; & that whosoeuer wil be happie, must be partaker therof; and that by that means, he shall be worthie to be beleeued; and contrariwise, that he shal be vn­worthie [Page 107] of credit, The estimati­on that men of old time had vnto truth. which loueth to lie. He that bare the of­fice of lord chiefe iustice in Aegypt, did weare an image of truth hanging at his brest; which image of truth, was had in singular estimation of the Druides also. The men of old time painted their God Pan with two faces, meaning thereby that he had skill both of good and euill, of truth and falshood, ta­king the face on the forpart to represent truth, the which they painted faire, beautiful, and amiable; and the face on the back­part to betokenfalshood, the which they portraied soule, ilfa­uored, and ouglie, like vnto a Goat, or some other brute beast, of purpose to shew the difference that is betweene truth and vntruth.

CHAP. XIIII. Of Religion, and Superstition.

IN handling the fore-said question so well discussed by Cicero in his books of Duties, and well debated among such as haue to deale with matters of state. I haue told you heretofore that Machiauell held this erronious opinion, That a prince was of neces­sitie to deale contrarie to faithful­nesse and Religion, for the mainteinance of his estate. Of Faithfulnesse I haue spoken sufficiēt alreadie: now remaineth to enquire of Religion, because in some respects it is an ap­pendant of our discourse, or to say truly, all that euer we haue treated of hitherto, and all that euer we shall treat of hereaf­ter, depēdeth vpon that. For it is the ring-leader of al vertues, & as the but wherat al they do shoot, without the which, nei­ther prince nor any other person whatsoeuer, can be wise, ver­tuous, or happy, or do any thing that shalbe ought-worth; but religion is of it selfe behofful & profitable to al thing, as saith [Page 108] S. Paul in his epistle to Timothie. Nothing can continue in his state with­out calling vpon God. For it is vnpossible that any of the things which are in nature, should continue in their being and state, without calling vpon God, considering that it is through his fauour and goodnesse that all things abide in their perfection, as Philo saith in his third booke of the life of Moses. In so much that a gouernour of people, cannot haue a greater good thing in this world, nor a thing more beseeming his maiestie, than Religion; and that it is the greatest honour that can be for him, to stand in aw of God: the which dutie vt­tereth it selfe in godlinesse and religion. For thereby he hono­reth God, and is honored of God, and hath an entrance into all vertues.

The same author expounding Genesis, saith, that by the tree of life is betokened the greatest of all vertues, namely Godlinesse, the which maketh the soule immortall. Where­vnto accordeth S. Ambrose, in the sixt of his Epistles, where he sayth, that the tree of life is the root of godlinesse, and that to doe due honour and seruice to our Lord and God, is the verie substance of our life. And Mercurie saith, that by Religion, man is replenished with all good things, and made to abound in heauenly vnderstanding.

The emperour Theodosius was woont to say, that by Religi­on, peace is maintained, and enemies in war time put to flight. Whosoeuer then will attaine to vertue, and to the souereigne good, cannot come to it but by Religion, and by seeking it at Gods hand, who hath promised to graunt vs whatsoeuer wee aske with a good heart, so it be rightfull. For God liketh well of such as call vpon him with a true heart, God is nere vnto them that call vpon him with a true heart. (saith Dauid in the hundred and foure and forteeth Psalme) bringeth to passe the desires of them that feare and loue him, heareth their cries, saueth them, and keepeth them. Hee that loueth God (sayth Ecclesiasticus) shall be heard when he praieth for his sinnes, so as he shall abstaine from them, and he shal be heard in his dai­ly praier.

And as Plato sayth in his fourth booke of Lawes, A good man ought that man to bee, which shall offer sacrifice vnto [Page 109] God, and be present at the diuine ceremonies, and there is not any thing more beautifull, more expedient, more behoof­ful to a happie life, nor more beseeming a man, than to giue himselfe to the seruing of God, and to the ma [...]ing of oblati­ons, praiers, Mans welfare consisteth in Religion. and supplications vnto God, And the same Plato saith in his Theetetus, That mans felicitie consisteth in Reli­gion to Godward, which is the greatest vertue that can be among men. And as saith Xenophon in his first booke of the trainment of Cirus, It is easier to obtaine any thing at the hand either of God or of man, by honouring them in our prosperitie, than by praying and suing vnto them in our ad­uersitie. Now then, in treating of vertues, it behoueth vs (as saith Iamblichus in speaking of mysteries) to begin at the best and most pretious, which is Religion and the seruice of God, a naturall propertie (as saith Proclus) that is incident to al men, and is essentiall in man. Religion and godlinesse are wel neere both one. A definition of Religion. For godlines, as saith Mercurie the great, is nothing els but the knowledge of God; and Religion is the knowledge of the ceremonies belonging to the worship of God. Plutarch saith in the life of Paulus Aemilius, That Religion is the skill how to serue God. And Cicero in his Rhetorike saith, That it is the bringer of the ceremonies concerning the things that belong to the God-head; so as there is no great difference be­twixt the one and the other. According to Festus Pompeius, We call those Religious, which can skill what is to be done, and what is to be left vndone. Godlinesse then or Religion, is the seruice which we do vnto God in worshipping him as al­togither good, almightie, and the author and creator of all things. In this acknowledgement did Abel make his offerings, and Enos begin to call vpon God. Afterward Moses brought the law of God to the children of Israel, written in two tables, wherof the first concerneth Religion & the honor that ought to be yeelded vnto God; and the other concerneth our dutie towards our neighbour, commaunding vs to beleeue in God only, to loue him with all our heart, to worship him only and none other, to giue no honour to any thing wrought by mens [Page 110] hands; nor to any other creature, but only to the liuing God; to forbeare to take his name in vaine by swearing by it, and much more by forswearing; and to take one day of rest in the weeke to dedicate the same vnto God, and to cease from all worke, and to intend to the seruing of him. And secondly he commaundeth vs to honor our father and mother, to abstaine from murther, theft, sals-witnessing, whoredome, and the co­ueting of any thing whatsoeuer. The Heathen kept the ten commaunde­ments. Now we find that not only the Israelits, (who had the law written) but also the heathen which had it not, did wholly obserue it, as we shall see by this discourse, chiefly in the case of Religion. We see what is written therof, by such as had not the knowledge of God re­uealed vnto them, as namely how diuinely the great Mercu­rie hath written thereof, and how his Pimander reuealeth wonderfull secrets vnto him, which are so conformable to our misteries, that they seeme to be drawne out of the same fountaine. The Trinitie was knowne of Mercurie the great. And the thing that is most wonderfull, is that he speaketh of the three persons, as if he had bin instructed thereof, by the writings of the gospell, and specially of the wisdome, whom he calleth the sonne of God, to whom he at­tributeth the creating of all things, according to that which S. Iohn saith therof in the beginning of his Gospell. Next vn­to Mercurie, followeth Plato, who for that cause is called the diuine. And after them haue followed many other Philoso­phers, as is to be seen by their writings, & by the things which S. Austin of Eugubie hath painfully gathered into his books which he hath made of continuall Philosophie. The Sabines worshipped God in three persons, naming the one Holie, the other Fidius, and the third Semipater. And in their oths they did commonly put Fidius in the middest, as who would say, that vnder that name they cōprehended al the three persons, wherof came their great oth of Medius fidius. Numa Pompi­lius wrote a­gainst the multitude of Gods. Numa Pompilius king of Romanes, was not of opinion that there were so ma­ny gods as he himselfe forged, after the example of others: For he wrote against such vngodlinesse, which books being [Page 111] found after his death were burned by commaundement of the Senate, as contrarie to the worshipping of many gods, which follie there was no way as then to put out of their heads; wherein Numa did verie ill, in that he had leuer to sticke to the Superstition of the multitude, than to tell them his mind without dissimulation, how he made idols, neuerthe­lesse the people were forbidden to beleeue that God had the shape of beast or man; insomuch that in those first times, there was not in Rome any image of God, either painted, carued, or cast in mould. And for the space of the first six hundred threescore and ten yeares, they builded vp temples and chap­pels to their gods, but there was not in them any image or fi­gure of God; as who would say, they thought it sacriledge to haue the mind to resemble or liken the Godhead to earthly things, considering that it is not in any wise possible to attaine to the knowledge of the Godhead, otherwise than by means of the vnderstanding. And that was agreeable to the doctrin of Pithagoras, who was of opinion, that the first cause was af­ter a sort conceiuable in vnderstanding, but yet vtterly in­uisible and vncorruptible.

As touching an oth, Of Swearing and of Oths. I haue alreadie shewed in what estima­tion it was among the infidels, and how they abhorred per­iurie, to our great shame. For surely to take God to witnesse in a lie, is a verie great wickednesse.

And as touching the taking of one day in the weeke, Of the sabbat day. to respit both men and beasts from worke and trauell, Hesiodus the antient Poet commaundeth it in his booke of Workes and Daies; and Plato saith in his booke of Lawes, that the gods pittying men, least they should ouer-worke themselues, haue giuen-them a release of their labor, by leauing them ho­li-daies ordained in their honor. Thus ye see how many of the men of old time, at the beginning of the law of nature, did well enough practise the law of God, had not the deuill thrown them into the wretched & abhominable sin of idola­trie, and that some certaine persons had not turned all vpside downe by the inuention of idols, as is written in the xiij and [Page 112] xiiij chapters of the booke of Wisdome. For that hath caused men to be wholly giuen to earthly things, bearing themselues on hand, that an image made by mans hand was their God, and therefore worshipping it as God, by offering sacrifices of beasts vnto it, as though it tooke pleasure in the smoki [...] sent of the multitude of burnt offerings, and had need of ox­en, goats, and sheep. But in the end, God sending his owne son into the world, hath made vs to know that which many pro­phets, and especially Dauid in his fifteeth and three and fif­teeth Psalms hath said, namely, That the true sacrifice is to praise the true and inuisible God, to yeeld him thanks for all his benefits, to lift vp our minds vnto him, to pray vnto him with all deuotion and humilitie, and to offer vnto him in sacri­fice, a pure and cleane heart, adorned with feare and obedi­ence, according to this saying of S. Paul, That we must offer vnto him a liuing host; that is to say, our bodies without ble­mish, and as Philo saith, Can there be found a goodlier sacri­fice, than the soule that is well minded towards God? Who shall goe vp into the Lords hill, but he that is of pure and cleane heart, considering that not he which saith Lord, Lord, but he that doth the Lords will, shal enter into the kingdome of heauen? For, as Persius saith, When we bring vnto God from the closet of our soule, holinesse, and from the bottome of our heart, a pure and obedient mind, and a meeke affection seasoned with goodnesse, vertue, and honestie, then may we boldly offer vp our praiers and sacrifices vnto him; but other­wise it behoueth vs to be well ware that we presume not vn­to him. God accep­teth not the offerings of the wicked. For the sacrifice of the wicked is lothsome vnto God, saith Salomon. And Plato in his fourth booke of Lawes, saith, That God accepteth not, ne regardeth not the gifts of the wicked, and that their pains in that behalfe, are in vaine; but that on the contrarie part, he doth willinglie receiue the gifts of the holie. And as Philo saith in his third booke of the life of Moses, If the person that offereth be euill and vnrighteous, his sacrifices are no sacrifices, his halowed things are vnholie, and his prayers turne to the contrarie, procuring him misfortune in [Page 113] steed of good. This honouring of God with heart and mind, we call Godlines, and Religion, which is the meane betweene vngodlinesse (wherof alonly we ought not to make mention) and Superstition. Of Religion and Superstition, Cicero in his third booke of the Nature of the gods, speaketh in this wise: Our worshipping (saith he) with a pure, cleane, sound, and vn­corrupted mind and voice. Of Supersti­tion. For not only the Philosophers, but also our ancestors haue seperated religion from superstitiō. For such as praied all the day, that their children might ontliue them, were called superstitious; and they that were diligent in doing the things that pertaine vnto the worshipping of the gods, were called Religious. Of the word Religio (which signi­fieth to bind-ouer, because Religion bindeth men to the per­formance of their dutie towards God.) And so of the ij. things betokened by the two words of Religion & Superstition, men haue made the one a vice, and the other as vertue. So then, we call those superstitious, which are ouer-religious, and leauing the true vse of the praiers that are to be made vnto God, doe busie themselues in babling, and in requiring vaine things at his hand, as those sillie soules did, which ceassed not to be im­portunat vnto God, that their children might [...]uruiue them, whose so doing, hath giuen vnto their faultie religiō the name of Superstition; whereto full many do giue themselues at this day, pratling vncessantly vnto God, not knowing what they aske, notwithstanding that our Lord hath commaunded vs to seeke Gods kingdome and righteousnesse, promising that all temporall things shal be added as an income to our praier, and inioining vs as a pattern of praieng, to say the praier that euery man hath in his mouth, namely, the Lords praier; wherein our only speech is of the honoring of God, and our praieng is for the forgiuenes of our sins, for strength to withstand them, and for our ordinarie food. Generally we terme all those supersti­tious, which of a misbeleefe, Superstition slippeth down into the hearts of such as are ouerwhelmed with feare. are astonished at euery extraordi­nary thing that they see. For as Plutarch sayth in the life of A­lex [...]nder, Superstition droppeth downe continually into the hearts of them that are cast down and ouerwhelmed of feare, [Page 114] as for example, those that are afrighted at the eclipse of the sun or the moone, at the howling of woolues, at the noise of the Scriech-oule, or of the night-rauen, or at the flying of certaine birds, and such other like things. In all the which the Romanes were too too superstitious, as is to be seene by a pro­cession of theirs, wherin they caused the Reliks of their gods to bee borne vpon barrowes on horse-backe through the citie; wherein because the Carter had taken the horse by the reine with his left hand, they appointed the procession to be begun new againe. And sometimes for one poore flie, that is to say, for a thing of nothing, they made some one sa­crifice to be begun twentie or thirtie times. Some of the men of old time tearmed this maner of dealing an exact Righte­ousnesse, and we call it a fond and foolish Superstitiousnesse; howbeit that wee must needs confesse, that together with those ceremonies of theirs, (such as they were) they had Re­ligion also in singular reuerence and estimation; insomuch that they would rather doe against their lawes, than falsifie their oth, because they deemed it a hainouser matter to of­fend God, than to offend man. So deeply had they Religion, (that is to say, Where the feare of God wanteth, the realme must needs decay. The loue and feare of God) imprinted in their hearts, without which, a prince or a common-weale can neuer prosper. For (as Machiauel saith in the first booke of his dis­course, a little better than he speaks in his booke of a Prince) whēsoeuer the fear of God once faileth, needs must the king­dom decay. Paul cōmandeth vs to honor the king, because he hath his power of God. Now if we ought to honor the king in respect of the power which he hath from God, what ought the king himselfe to doe, to whom God is so gratious, as to place him in that dignitie, and to make so many men obedi­ent vnto him? Certes seeing he is the image of God, the least that he can doe is to lift vp the eies of his mind to behold him whom he representeth, & to worship that heauenly mir­ror, wherin by looking on himselfe, he must needs behold the goodnesse and maiestie of God. S. Iohn Chrisostome writing vp­on these words of Genesis; God made man after his owne image [Page 115] and likenesse, saith, it is meant of the image of soueraigntie. For like as God commaundeth all men, so man commaundeth all the liuing things that God hath put into this world. Princes com­maund [...]en, and God princes. A prince commaundeth all inferior persons, and God commaundeth the prince.

Which thing Dauid acknowledging in the 118 Psalm, saith that he praised the Lord seuen times a day. He had good store of businesse to doe, but yet could they not turne him from the seruing of God. As proud and high minded a prince as great Alexander was, yet the first thing that he did euerie day after he was vp, was to doe sacrifice to the gods. There haue bin few princes, which haue not at least wise pretended to be religious, or bin religious indeed. But there is as much diffe­rence betweene the one and the other, as there is betweeene truth and vntruth, or betweene the soule and the body. Yet notwithstanding seeing that they which haue not any zeale of religion, A prince can not forbeare Religion. cannot forbeare the pretence therof; it declareth vn­to vs, that religion is a thing most requisit for the maintenance of a state, because men are of opinion, that the prince which is religious, is so guided by Gods hand, that he cānot do amisse; which causeth them to reuerence him & obay him the more easily. And to say truth, we see, not only that kings haue bin maintained & vpheld by religion, Religion ma­keth princes to be obayed, but also that princes haue obtained kingdomes and empires by religion. As for example, Numa the second king of Romanes, being a Sabine borne, was sought and sent for by the citie of Rome, to be made king of Romans, because they saw him wholly giuen to religion, per­suading thēselues that they could not speed amis, if they were gouerned by a deuout and religious prince. And in very deed, it fell out according to their hope. For he did so much, that that people being then barbarous, & altogither giuen to the wars, without law & without religion, attained to that great­nesse of state which we haue seen since, wheras it had bin vn­possible for a warlik nation as that was, to haue escaped frō vn­doing thēselues, had they not bin bridled by religiō, the only means to hold the cruellest people of the world in peace, and [Page 116] in obedience to the Magistrate. Alexander cal­led himselfe the sonne of Iupiter, to keepe men vnder the yoke of obedience. That was the cause which moued Alexander to name himselfe the sonne of Iupiter. For as Plutarch saith, he was not so presumptuous to imagine that he was begotten of a god; but he serued his owne turne with it, to hold men vnder the yoke of obedience by the opinion of such diuine nature, which hee by that means imprinted in them, like as in his ceremonies also, he had the feat to reuiue the foretellings of his soothsaiers: which thing he shewed spe­cialle at the siege of Tyre. For wheras his soothsaier had assu­red him that he should take the citie before the end of that present month, and euery man laughed at it, because it was the last day of the month, and the citie was impregnable: he put­ting all his forces in a readines for the assault, made proclama­tion that that day should be reckoned but for the 28 day of the moneth, & yet notwithstanding gaue present assault to the citie, and wan it out of hand, contrarie to his hope. The empe­ror Charles the fift, vsed the like feat, whē he arriued at S. Law­rencis in Prouince. For he considered that it was the 25 of Iuly which is S. Iames day; and because he had landed in Affrike the same day twelue-month, the yeare before, he made great vaunt of his fortunat and happy lucke and handsell, in arriuing the same day in France, saying that his voiage was miracu­lously guided and directed by the will of God, the disposer and orderer of humane affairs; and that as on the like day he had put the Turke to flight at Argier, so hee hoped to doe as much to the French king, through the direction and fauor of God, seeing they were arriued in France on the same day, and vnder the same head. Constantine, Pepin, and Charlemaine, became great by Religion. Constantine made himselfe great by im­bracing the Christian religion, as the Ecclesiasticall historie witnesseth vnto vs. The thing that serued Pepins turne most, was that he was reported to be religious, and beloued of religi­ous men, because he had caused the churches to be reedified, which had bin beaten down by the Sarzins; and had restalled the bishops of Reines & Orleans in their sees, frō which they had bin put by his father; and had restored the tenths to the clergie, that Charls Martel had takē away, & giuen to his men [Page 117] of warre. And to compasse his enterprise with the more ease, he helped himselfe at his need with Religion, that is to say by the Pope, without whom he had come short of his pur­pose. For the Pope dispensed with the Frenchmen for their oth which they had made to Childerik; & comming himselfe personably into France, did put the realme into Pepins hand: Which thing the Frenchmen had neuer agreed vnto, as our histories beare witnesse, if it had not bin vnder the cloke of Religion, and by authoritie of the partie whom they deemed to haue power to dispence with mens consciences. The same Religion made Charlemaine emperour, and diuers persons kings of Naples and Sicilie, by deposing the true heirs. Religi­on gaue the kingdome of Ierusalem to Godfrey of Bulleine, and made the Christians to trauell ouer seas and lands to con­quer the holy land, vnderzeale of Religion. Vnder pretence of Religion, and of an excommunication, the kingdome of Nauarre was wrongfullie seazed by the Spaniards. The kings of Persia lost their kingdome through disagreement in Re­ligion; and the Sophy (because he was found deuout in his Religion) recouered all that his forefathers had lost. We see at this day, how the contempt and disagreement in Religion, shaketh all the states of Christendome, and will yet shake them more, if the dissentious spirits be not reunited againe in the bosome of the church. S. Lois got himselfe more glorie in Syria and Aegypt by his holy conuersation, than by his wars, wherein he had not any happie successe; and the churches which we see of his building, doe shew sufficiently how hee was giuen to Religion. The bounti­fulnesse of Philip Augu­stus to the Clergie. Philip the emperor was not so much renowned for his victories, as for that after the battell of Bouvines, he builded the church of Victorie neer vnto Sen­lis, the which he dedicated to the virgin Marie, and after­ward did great good to the Clergi-men. And whē his officers complained vnto him, of his diminishing of his reuenues by enriching of the church-men; he answered, That he had re­ceiued so much good at Gods hand, that he could not denie any thing to his Temples and Ministers, for the great goods [Page 118] which he had gotten and gained by helpe more than hu­mane, and euen by the fauor of God. But now leauing our christian histories, because my chiefe intent is not to speak of them, let vs read Titus Liuius, and there we shall see the de­uotion that was in the Romanes of old time, and among o­thers, the zeale of Lucius Albinus a commoner, The deuotion of Lucius Albinus a Com­moner of Rome. who hauing his wagon loaden with his wife and yoong children, and with his mouables, and fleeing from the Gauls that were come to Rome; as soone as he espied the Nuns of Vesta on foot, carry­ing their holy reliks with them; immediatly he caused his wife and children to come downe, and his goods to be vnloa­den, and lent his wagon to the virgins to ride in, and to carrie their Relikes.

Numa Pompilius, to the intent to make the people atten­tiue to the ceremonies of their religion, made an herald to go before the priest that ministred the ceremonies, and to crie with a loud voice, Do this; which was a commaunding of them to intend wholly to the diuine seruice, without inter­medling any other action. The good ladies and personages of reputation, did oft frequent the temples; and the foun­ders of them gate great fame and renowne amongst the people.

Scipio holden for religious, and for one that consulted with God vp­on his affairs. Scipio African was one of the happiest captains of Rome, and best beloued of the people & men of war, because they dee­med him to doe all things by the counsel of God, for that he vsed to tarry long alone in the capitoll; where their opinion was, that he consulted with Iupiter concerning the affaires of the common-weale.

And generally all princes beeing of any good dispo­sition, haue had Religion in singular estimation, as wee read by the answer that Alexander Seuerus made to certaine Inholders of Rome, which would haue disappointed the Christians of the building of a chappell to make their pray­ers in. The things that concerne God (quoth the emperour) are to be preferred before the things that concerne man, and therefore let it be free for the Christians to build their chap­pell [Page 119] to their God, who though he be vnknowne at Rome, ought neuerthelesse to haue honour done vnto him, euen in respect that he beareth the name of God. And so he chose rather to apply the place to the worshipping of God, than to worldly vses.

And for himselfe, The honour that Alexander Seuerus yeel­ded to Bi­shops. he made it not strange that the Bishops, in cases belonging to their iurisdiction, should giue other iudgement than he had done; as who would say, that in mat­ters of Religion, the emperour ought to giue place to the au­thoritie of priests, and Bishops.

Plutarch in his treatise of Philosophicall discipline, saith, That common-weales, honour and reuerence priests, be­cause they pray vnto God, not for the welfare of themselues and their friends and acquaintance onely, but in common for all men; and yet the priests cause not the gods to doe vs good, but they onely call vpon them as dooers of good.

We see in what reuerence the Romanes had them, The reue­rence that men in old time did beare vnto Priests. by their condemning of Cneus Cornelius a Pretor of Rome in a great fine, for quarrelling vniustly with Emilius Lepidus, their high priest.

Antiochus king of Syria lying in siege before Ierusa­lem, at the feast of Tents or Boothes, gaue the Iewes seuen daies truce at their request, because he would not trouble their deuotion: and moreouer sent an Oxe and certaine vessels of gold vnto the gate of the citie, to be offe­red in sacrifice vnto God. When Philip king of Mace­donie, was about to lay siege to Vdisitane a citie of Mae­sia belonging to the Gothes, their priests came foorth to him clad all in white; to whom he yeelded such honour and reuerence, that hee retired without doing them any harme.

No lesse did Alexander to the high priest of the Iewes, notwithstanding that he went against him in great choler, and with full purpose to haue destroied the towne. For when [Page 120] he saw him come in his priestly ornaments and attire, he not only relented, but also stepped forth alone vnto him, with great honour and reuerence and worshipped God. The same Alexander hauing taken the citie of Thebes, razed it, and sold all the citizens thereof, sauing only the priests and men of Religion. Darius caused an image of his to be set vp in the temple of Vulcane, before the image of Sesostris; the doing wherof Vulcans priest withstood, saying, that Sesostris had done mo deeds of arms than Darius, and therefore deserued to be preferred before him; for which free speech, Darius did not the priest any harme, but pardoned him.

Selim liberall to the Christi­an Priests, as to men vow­ed to the ser­uice of God. Selim emperor of the Turks being in the citie of Ierusa­lem, did reuerence to the monuments of the antient prophets. And albeit that he was an enemie to the verie name of Chri­stians; yet for all that, he letted not to giue the priests monie to find them six moneths, as to deuout persons and men of good life. When Alarik king of the Gothes had entered the citie of Rome by force, he made proclamation by the sound of a trumpet, that no harme should be done to such as were fled into the churches of the Apostles to saue them­selues; by reason wherof, his souldiers touched not the religi­ous persons, nor the vessels which they carried with them. Wheras Didier king of Lumbards, intending to haue seazed Rome into his possession afore Charlemain should come there, fained himselfe to haue a vow thither, by reason whereof he found the gates open at his comming; yet notwithstanding he durst not enter, because Adrian the Pope forbad him vp­on paine of excommunication. And I beleeue that the feare which he had of Charlemaine, helped him wel to the taking of that offer. Attila had such regard of Pope Leo, that as soon as he had heard him speake, he forbare to go to Rome, & vtter­ly left vp all Italie. Religious­nesse maketh Captaines to prosper. Cabaon captaine of Tripolie, finding him­selfe too weake to withstand the Vandales, gaue himselfe ouer to Religion, and forbad his men of war to doe wrong to any man, enioyning them to abstaine from women and dein­tie meats, and giuing them in charge that if the Vandales [Page 121] happened to vnhallow any church of the Christians that they should doe the contrarie, and make them cleane againe. For he told them, that if Christ was the God of the Christi­ans, as he was reported to be, he would punish those that did him wrong, and helpe those that did him seruice. Whervpon this Cabaon sent certaine of his men to follow the Vandales in post, who whensoeuer they found any church where the Vandales had stabled their horses, made it cleane againe as soone as they were gone out of it. If any were poore or dis­eased, they gaue them alms, and (as ye would say) did worship the priests whom the Vandales had misused. The prehemi­nence that Priesthood hath had. To be short, all the men of old time haue so greatly honored priest-hood, that it had chiefe preheminence next vnto kings; and some­times kings haue bin priests, and priests haue bin kings and gouernors of people. And at Rome the priests of Iupiter had a Mace-bearer, Priests in old time priuiled­ged from ta­king an oth. and a chaire of estate, as who would say, they deemed the dignitie of priesthood to be equall with the authoritie of a king. And they durst not demaund an oth of them, when they were to beare witnesse; as who would say, it were no reason to discredit these in small things, which had the ordering of the greatest things, and the things that con­cerned God. Which thing is obserued towards our kings of France, when they be heard vpon an inquest, for they depose without making any oth. Numa king of Romanes, would needs be of the colledge of Bishops, which he had ordained for the ceremonies. And the name of King abode with their high priest, whom they called the sacrifising King, or the king for the Sacrifices. After which maner the Athenians also chose yearly one by the name of King, who was crea­ted but onelie for sacrifising, and to punish irreligious dea­lings.

Octauian the emperour had the priestly dignitie, iointly togither with his empire, The empe­rors did wear the attire of the high Priests. and so had all they that were em­perors after him. For as soone as they were chosen, there was giuen vnto them the priestly attire, and they tooke vpon them the title of High priests. Which custome was kept vnto the [Page 122] time of Gratian, who refused the attire when the priests offered it vnto him, because he thought it vnmeet for a Chri­stian to take such an habit vpon him, as Zosimus reporteth in the fourth booke of his historie. Neuerthelesse we see by the letter which Varia Mesa wrat vnto the Senat, vpon the electi­on of Heliogabalus, that the emperorship and priesthood, were alwaies diuided asunder. For thus saith he, Now shall ye see that which your predecessors neuer saw, namely, that the em­peror shall be the high priest, and the high priest be emperor, so as he shall by sacrifice reconcile vs to the gods, and by force of arms defend vs from our enemies. But this saying is not con­trarie to that of Zosimus. For there is great difference between being of the colledge of the priests, and the taking of the dig­nitie or title of priesthood in way of honour; and betweene dealing with the ceremonies themselues, as the priests of Iu­piter and Quirinus, whome they called Flamines, and the rest of the peculiar priests of the other gods did: for these later sort could not beare any office, or be magistrats. Iulius Caesar had the high priesthood for honours sake, and chiefly for profits sake: but yet for all that he intended not to the administrati­on of the ceremonies, but contrariwise was continually occu­pied in the warres, and absent from the citie. Howbeit that Ti­tus Vespasian would needs expresly haue it, It was not lawfull for the high priest of the Romans to shead mans blood. to the intent hee might not kill any man, because it was not lawfull for their high priest to shead mans blood, no more than our church­men may now; which point the rest of the emperours that came after him obserued not. Therefore wheras the emperors tooke the priests stole vpon them, it was in way of honour, and not to doe the office in administring the ceremonies. Among the Iewes, Aaron the high priest was of equall authoritie with Moses; and after the Iudges and Kings, the greatest dignitie belonged to the high priest. Among vs Christiās also, the time hath bene, that men haue yeelded souereigne authoritie to the Pope, as to the Primat of the church; princes haue sub­mitted themselues to him, and not only haue honoured him as the cheefe minister of our religion, but also haue receiued se­uere [Page 123] correction at his hand, not refusing to do open pennance at the Bishops commaundement: Emperors chastised by priests. as did the emperors Philip and Theodosius, vnder Fabian and Ambrose bishops, the one of Millan, the other of Rome: and Frederik the emperour, and king of Naples, howbeit that the Pope proceeded not with like zeale as the other did, but vsed more choller than religion in his doings, as he shewed by his treading of the emperor vn­der his feet, coating his vncomely dealing with this verse of Dauid, Vpon the Aspworm and the Cockatrice shalt thou goe, and tread the Lion and Dragon vnder foot; a thing so il-besee­ming the place that he held, that Frederik was to be com­mended for his patient suffering of that disgrace, in the honor of God and S. Peter. But such was the Religion of those daies, that euerie man ran vpon him that was in the Popes disfauor. When Clement the sixt had excommunicated the Flemings, The feare that men had of excommu­nication in times past. for taking part with England contrarie to their promise and oth, there was not so much as one priest to be found in all the whole countrie, that durst say masse, or say seruice. Iohn king of England seeing himselfe excommunicated for the tenths that he had taken into his hand, and perceiuing that the world went worse and worse with him, was faine to cast himselfe downe at the feet of the Popes legat, at whose hand, af­ter much intreatance, he receiued the crowne as a great be­nefit a six daies after, with charge to restore the tenths which he withheld, and the church-fruits; Which charge he put in execution, with perill of the losse of his kingdome. For the poor commons which were compelled to beare that losse, fel to rebelling against him. The like submissions haue bin made, not only among vs, but also among the Infidels. For it is repor­ted that when Hercules had killed his own childrē & his host, he was purged & assoiled therof, by the priests & mysteries of the goddesse Ceres. And Adrastus who had killed his own bro­ther vnawares, was purged & assoiled by Cresus king of Lydia, who took vpon him to deale in such recōciliations, because he was religious, and addicted to the fond ceremonies of those times. Also we read that a priest commaunded Lisander, [Page 124] king of Lacedemon, to tell and declare vnto him the greatest sin that euer he had committed. The answer of Lisander to a Priest that would haue had him to confesse his sin vnto him. But Lisander being more subtill than spice-conscienst, desired the priest to tell him whether he required it of him by the commaundement of the gods, or of his owne-authoritie? When the priest had an­swered him, that it was at the commaundement of the gods; Withdraw your selfe then (quoth he) a while out of the temple, and I wil tell it them, if they aske it. Zosimus reporteth in his historie, that while Constantine the great was yet no Christian, he would haue bin purged by the high-priests of the Painims, for his murthering of his wife and his sonne; and that when they refused to doe it, he became a Christian, vpon report of a Spaniard, who gaue him to vnderstand, that the Christian Religion wiped away all sorts of sin. But this Zosimus speaketh like a clerke of arms, and like an enemie to our Religion, not knowing with how great discretion penitents are receiued into the bosome of the church, as we may see in many treatises of S. Ciprian.

Nicephorus in his seuenth booke disproueth those that so report, vnto whom I referre my selfe, concerning the cause that moued Constantine to take vpon him the Christian reli­gion, because it is a thing notably knowne to all men. For inas­much as Religion bringeth with it humilitie, Pride vndo­eth Religion. and lowlinesse of heart; pride and ouer-weening doe vtterlie defeat it, as we read of king Osias, who was punished with a leaprosie, for presuming to offer sacrifice to God; and likewise of Dathan, Choree, and Abiron, whom the earth swallowed vp aliue. Concerning the touching of the things dedicated to the tem­ple, The danger that hangeth vpon the tou­ching of things dedi­cated to chur­ches. we see what befell to Manasses, and Amon kings of Ieru­salem, and to Nabugodonozer king of Babilon, and diuers o­thers. And as touching the forsaking of the true Religion, wee know the euill end that befell to Achab, Ochosias, and Oseas kings of Samaria. Now seeing that true Religion is a goodly thing, The dispraise of Hipocrisie. needs' must Hipocrisie and false Religion be very dangerous, as which displeaseth God and man, when a countenance of the feare of God is pretended, to deceiue [Page 125] folke vnder shew of holinesse. For as Cicero saith in his Duties, There is not so great a wickednesse, as the cloking of a mans selfe vnder the mantle of Religion, to do euill. Such guiles or cosenages are misliked both of God and man, specially when they be faced with the countenance of holinesse. I meane wicked guiles, as the Lawyers tearme them, and not such guiles as serue for baits to draw folke to that which is good and behooffull, of which sort Plato speaking in his Laws, saith, It is not against the grauitie of a law-giuer, to vse such kind of vntruths, because it is inough for him to persuade folk to that which is for their welfare & profit. For it is not vnlaw­full to beguile men to a good end, & (as saith S. Paul) to apply a mans selfe to all sorts of men, to the intent to win them, as he himselfe did in Ierusalem, by the counsell of S. Iames, when he made his foure companions to be shauen, and purifi­ed himselfe with them in the temple, according to the cu­stome of law, notwithstanding that he allowed not that cere­monie. Therefore men are not forbidden to beguile vntra­ctable folke, and such as are otherwise vnweeldie and hard to be ruled, or els which are grosse, superstitious, fearfull, and shiwitted; or to induce them to some kind of Superstition, for the compassing of some commendable matter; A man may beguile the superstitious, for the com­passing of some com­mendable ef­fect. or to bridle those with the snaffle of Religion, which can not be compassed by loue nor by force, which is the strongest mean that we haue to restraine euen them that are most fierce and vntamable. For (as Sabellicus saith) there is not any thing that doth more easily retaine the common people, than Supersti­tion, or is of more force to moue and persuade people to the intent and opinion that a man will rule them and lead them too. Du Bellay in his Ogdoads. This maner of dealing haue the greatest and best adui­sed law-makers, and the best experienced captaines of the world vsed. And among others Numa Pompilius of whom I haue spoken afore, vsed it wisely towards the Romanes, hol­ding the people (whom he gouerned) in awe by a Religion, such as it was, and specially by the ceremonies which were in vse at that time. He saw well he had to doe with theeues, [Page 126] robbers, and murtherers, and that his estate could not bee sure among people that had their hands alreadie stained with the blood of their king, whom they had killed late afore; and that it was no need to whet them, being a people too much giuen to war, but rather to procure them rest, to the intent that du­ring the time of peace, they might receiue some good lawes for the gouerning of their citie, and haue their crueltie assua­ged by means of religion. And to the intent that the thing which he did, might be of the more authoritie, he feined that all proceeded frō the counsel of the Muses, and of the nymph or goddesse Aegeria, that haunted the forrest Arecine, vnto whose company he often withdrew himselfe alone, not suffe­ring any body to go in thither with him.

Minos, king of Candie. Minos the law-giuer of Candie, had vsed the like feat afore to giue force and authoritie to his lawes. For he went ordinari­ly into a certaine caue of the earth, the which he termed Iu­piters caue: and after he had bin there a long time, he brought his lawes with him all written, saying he had receiued them of Iupiter, to the end to compell his countrimen to keepe them, both by the power and authoritie which he had ouer them, and also by religion, the which he esteemed to bee of more force than all his commandements.

No lesse did Pithagoras for the ratifieng of his doctrine, for he had so reclaimed an eagle, that at a certaine call she would come and lie houering ouer his head in the aire. After that Lycurgus had made his lawes, he caused them to be ratified by the oracle of Apollo, who answered that they were good, and fit to make men liue well and blessedly.

Diuers guiles of princes and captains.And as the superstition of people, hath well serued the turn of lawmakers; so hath it no lesse serued to make captains obei­ed, and to giue thē the reputation which they deserued, when they could skill to vse it cunningly, as Agesilaus did, who see­ing his men dismaied, because they were far fewer in number than their enimies, fell to making sacrifice afore hee prepared himselfe to the battell, and writing this word Victorie in his left hand, tooke the liuer of the beast at the priests hand, with­out [Page 127] making any countenance, and holding it a long time in his owne hand, as in a muse, that the liuer might take the print of the letters, went anon after to his men of warre there pre­sent, and shewed them the liuer, telling them that those let­ters behighted a sure signe of victorie, thereby to make them the more couragious and resolute.

Sertorius one of the best experienced captains of Rome, be­ing brought into a little country of Spaine, where it behooued him to haue the helpe of the Spaniards, who were but smally accustomed to obey and to submit themselues to warlike dis­cipline; to the intent he might beare some sway among them, and be beleeued and followed of them in all his enterprises; found the means to haue a white Hynd, the which hee affir­med to haue bene sent vnto him from Diana, to giue him no­tice of many things to come; the which Hynd he had so wel taught and inured to the noise of battell, that shee followed him wheresoeuer he went, and was not a whit afraid to see so great a multitude. Which thing made his souldiers the more pliable to order, because they beleeued that all that e­uer he did, came of the counsell of Diana, and not of his owne good gouernment.

Eumenes perceiuing that Antigonus and Teutamus captains of Alexanders old bands, that were called Siluer-shields, in re­spect of the shields of siluer that they carried, would not in a­ny wise giue place to him, though they had commaundement from Olimpias the mother of Alexander, to obey him, nor come at him to consult of the affairs of the realme; thinking it no reason, that he for his part shuld go to their lodging, found the means to win them by this superstition: he made thē beleeue that Alexander had appeared vnto him in his sleepe, Alexanders Tent, or Paui­lion. and had shewed him a stately Pauilion, wherin was a roiall throne, and had told him, that if they would hold their consultation there, he would be there present with them, & aid thē both in their counsel, & in the managing of al their affairs, cōditionally that they alwaies began at him: vnto this Eumenes easily persuaded thē, so as with one cōmon consent they caused a beautiful and [Page 128] sumptuous pauilion to be set vp, which they called the Paui­lion of Alexander, where they made their meetings for counsell. The emperour Charles the fift being at Tunes, whe­ther it were that he would by some means remoue all heart­burning from among the lords of his armie, whom he vvas to cōmaund in his absence, or that he vvould giue the more cou­rage to his souldiers, & shew to them all, that there was a head aboue him: tooke the crucifix in his own hands, and shewing it to them all, told them that our Lord Iesus Christ should be the chiefe of that host. Themistocles perceiuing that neither reason nor intreatance could persuade the people of Athens to goe to the sea to encounter the Medes, fell to beating them with heauenly signes, oracles, and answers of the gods. For he tooke occasion to serue his turne as with a signe from heauen, by the dragon of Minerua, which by good hap appea­red not in hir temple as it had bin wont to doe. And the priests found the oblations to lie whole vnminished and vn­touched, which the people offered dailie vnto hir. By reason whereof being intrapped by Themistocles, they sowed a brute among the people, that the goddesse Pallas, the defender of the citie, had forsaken it, pointing them the way to the sea. And on the other side, The policie of Themistocles, he won them also by means of a cer­taine prophesie, which commaunded them to saue them­selues in wodden walles; saying that those wodden wals, be­tokened nothing els but ships. Christopher Columb perceiuing he could get no victuals of the Indians neither for loue nor by force, went neer vnto a little citie of theirs, and calling out certaine of the citizens vnto him, did them to vnderstand, that if they furnished him not with victuals, God would send them such a scourge from heauen, that they should die euery one; in token wherof, he assured them that within two daies next comming, they should see the Moone full of blood, if they would take heed of it. They beholding the thing come to passe the verie same day that he told them of, which was nothing els but the eclips of the moone were so affraid of it, that they went and prouided him victuals, and furnished him [Page 129] of as much as he needed. Lysander being desirous to further Agesilaus in making him king, whereunto the oracle of Apol­lo was an impediment, which had forbidden the Lacedemoni­ans to chuse a king that did halt; told them, the oracle meant it not of the halting of a leg, but of the halting in linage and parentage, after which sort Leotichides halted (which was the person whome some would haue preferred to be their king) whome the wife of king Agis had conceiued in adulterie by Alcibiades. Marius led with him a woman of Syria named Martha, whom he had euermore present at all his sacrifices, and without her he did not any thing. It is not wel known whe­ther he belee [...]ed verily that she had the gift of prophesie, or whether he did wittingly pretend to beleeue it, for the better furtherance of his deuices. Vpon a time when Sylla was readie to giue battell, he openly kissed a little image of Apollo, which he had taken out of the temple of Delphos, praying it to keep promise with him. Superstition dangerous in a captaine. Thus ye see how the braue captains do easi­ly make their hand of the superstition of the people, so long as they themselues fal not into the same vice, as Nicias did; who being dismaid at an eclipse of the moon, delaied his departure out of Sicilie, whē it stood him most on hand to haue bin gon; vpon an opinion that it was a token of very great misfortune, notwithstanding that Anaxagoras in his bookes had shewed the reason of such eclipse: which doing of Nicias was cause of the vtter ouerthrow of his armie, and of his own destructi­on to. Likewise when Antigonus was minded to haue war with the Romans, he committed a great fault, in that hee beleeued not the counsel of Hannibal, but had rather to stand gaping su­perstitiously vpon the inwards of brute beasts, and to herken to a sort of cosening birdgazers, thā to an old & well experienced captaine, that knew the forces of the Romans, & where they were to be assailed. The superstitiousnes of the Almanes, was their vndoing, for the woman-wizards that were in the camp, forbad them to go to battell against the Romanes▪ afore the new of the moone. Wherof Iulius Caesar getting intelligence, and perceiuing that for that cause the Almanes stirred not, [Page 130] went and assailed them in their own campe, while they were out of courage by reason of their superstition; & he prouoked them so far, that in the end hee made them to come foorth into the field in a rage, where they were all discomfited. But the best and wisest captains neuer troubled their heads with such doteries. Good captains haue eschewed to be supersti­tious. As for example, Lucullus spared not to incounter with Tigranes vpon the sixt day of October, though there were that would haue dissuaded him, because the Romanes esteemed it an vnlucky day, forsomuch as Scipio was discōfited by the Cimbrians as on that day; wherto Lucullus answered, That of a day of sorrow & misfortune, he would make it aday of good fortune and ioy; and so it came to passe indeed.

Alexander leading his armie against the Persians in the moneth of Iune, was desired not to stirre, all that moneth, because the Macedonians esteemed it an vnluckie moneth. But yet hee letted not to proceed for all that: and to turne away the superstition, hee ordained that the moneth of Iune should be called the second May. Likewise when a certaine Pope might not make his enterance into Paris vpon a Thurs­day, because of the vnconueniencie of the next day following, whereby the rost-meat of the Persians should haue bin spa­red; he ordained that the next day being Friday, should bee called Thursday to, wherevpon it came to passe that that weeke hath euer since bene called the weeke with the two Thursdaies.

Dion forbare not for all the eclipse of the moone, to weigh vp his Anchors presently, and to depart forthwith from Za­cinth, to goe to make warre vpon Dennis the tyrant of Sicill, whome he draue out of Syracuse immediatly vpon his arri­uall there. Nothwithstanding, to put away the superstition of his souldiers, he brought them a soothsaier, who said vnto thē, My fellowes be of good chere, and assure your selues that all shall goe very well with vs. For the God head sheweth vs to our sight, that some one of the things which are now most glorious, cleare, & bright, shal be eclipsed and darkened; now there is not at this time any thing more resplendant than the [Page 131] tyrannie of Dennis: and therefore ye may well thinke, that as soone as you be arriued in Sicilie, ye shall deface the brightnes thereof. When Pericles was readie to saile with fiftie vessels, it happened that the sonne was eclipsed, the which thing did put all his cōpanie in feare, yea & the pilot himselfe to: where­fore Pericles seeing the Pilot sore dismaid, did spread out his cloke and couer his eies with it, demaunding of him whether he thought it did him any harme or no. The Pilot answered him no. Then sayd Pericles, there is no difference betweene this and yonder eclips, sauing that the body or thing that darkeneth the sunne, is greater than my cloke that couereth thine eies.

The Arabian guides that had beguiled Crassus, The pleasant and cunning answer of Cassius. by leading him into a place where he and the greater part of all his armie were slaine, intending to haue done as much to Cassius, who had gotten himselfe into the citie of Carras, and was purposed to depart thence the next morrow; did what they could to persuade him to tarrie vntil the moone were passed out of the signe of the Scorpion, which they affirmed to bee an vnluckie signe, hoping to stay him by that superstition. But he answered them, that he feared much rather the signe of Sagittarius (that is to say, of the Bow-man or Archer) because the Romans had lately afore ben curstly galled by the archers of the king of Parthia.

When Timoleon was readie to giue battell to the Cartha­ginenses, by chance there came into his host certaine mulets loden with smallage: the which thing the souldiers tooke for a foretoken of ill luck, because it was the custom of those daies, to bestrow the graues of dead folks with that hearbe. But Ti­moleon intēding to draw them from that superstition, made his armie to stand still: & hauing declared diuers things to them according to the time, he told them that the garland of honor offered it selfe vnto them afore victorie. For among the Co­rinthians (qd. he) such as win the prise at the gamings of Isch­mus that are kept in their countrie, are crowned with garlands of smallage. And therwithal himself tooke of it, and made him [Page 132] a garland the which he did put vpon his head, and after him all the rest of the captains, yea and euen the priuat souldiers also. As Marcellus was about to shock with the Gauls of Lum­bardie that were on the coast of Genoa, his horse turned back for feare, & carried him away whether he would or no▪ which thing helfearing least the Romans should take for a signe of ill lucke, [...]emed his horse to the left hand, & suddenly made him to turne head towards the enemie. and euen presently there­withall worshipped the sunne; as who would say, his turning backe had not bene by chaunce, but purposely to that intent, because the Romanes vvere vvoont too make such returns, when they worshipped their gods. Of the fallings of Iulius Cae­sar and king Edward the third to the ground. When Iulius Caesar was ar­riued in Affrike, as he went out of his boat he fel to the groūd, which thing some that vvere about him, tooke for an euill signe. But to turne it to the cleane contrarie, I hold thee O Affrike, quoth he; as if he had done it of set purpose.

Edward king of England being landed in Constantine, at a place called the Hogue S. Wast, did no sooner set foot on ground, but he fell downe, and that so forcibly, that his nose gushed out a bleeding, vvhereat his lords that vvere about him, counselled him to retire againe into his ship, because of the euill signe. But king Edward very nobly and readily answe­red, It is a very good signe for mee, for the land is desirous of me.

The soothsaiers counselled Iulius Caesar not to passe into Affrike afore vvinter: yet letted he not to do it, yea and vvith very happie successe. When he pursued Scipio in Affrike, be­cause there vvas a brute in his camp, that the Scipios could not be vanquished in that countrie; he in derision of that supersti­tious opinion, had in his armie a Scipio, neither of vvealth not off [...]me, nor of experience in fears of vvar, to the end that his souldiers should be of the better courage, knowing that Caesar had a Scipio as vvell as his enemies.

When Paulus Aemilius vvas readie to giue battell to Per­ses king of Macedonie, the soothsaiers told him, th [...]t by de­fending he should get the victorie, and not otherwise. To [Page 133] rid his armie of this feare, he made an vnbrideled horse to be driuen towards the enemies, & sent certain Romans after him to catch him againe. Anon the enemies ran out vpon the Ro­mans and so began a fray; Paulus Aemilius sent forth his men to defend them, and thereupon began a skirmish, whereupon ensued a battell, wherein he wan the victorie, according to the foresaieng of the soothsaiers.

The Romans kept a huge masse of gold and siluer in their treasurie: Caesar and Sylla made small conscience of superstition. and whensoeuer any was put in, they cursed the man with very great ceremonies, that should touch it, saue only for maintainance of wars against the Gauls. But yet for all that, Iulius Caesar wanting monie to pay his men of war, made no conscience to lay hand on it. And to take away the superstiti­on of the people, and the feare of any curse that should come vpon the citie, he told them he might iustly take it, seeing he came from conquering the Gauls. Sylla in a like case shewed himselfe to be neither superstitious, nor yet religious. For vp­on a time when he wanted monie, he tooke all that was in the temple of Apollo at Delphos; and for the doing thereof, hee sent a friend of his name Caphis, but he was afraid to enter vp­on the consecrated things, and protested with salt tears that he did it against his will. And when some of the standers by told him, that they heard the sound of Apollos viall within the temple; whether it were that he beleeued it to be so, or that he would haue impressed such a feare in Sylla, he wrat thereof vnto him. But Sylla mocking at it, sent him word he wondered that he considered not, that singing and playing vpon instru­ments of musicke, were a token of mirth, and not of anger, and therfore that he should not faile to proceed on. Pericles wāting monie to make war, sold the ornaments of Pallas for forty tal­lents of gold. And when he was charged with sacriledge for so doing: The answer of Pericles. he answered, That fairer than those were to be had of the spoile of their enemies. The emperor Iustinian did not so; for when Bellisarius had brought him diuers precious things of the spoile of the Vandals, which had bin conueied afore to Rome by Titus frō the sacking of Ierusalem; a Iew beholding [Page 134] them, told one of the emperors that it behoued him to be wel ware that he suffered them not to come within his palace, be­cause such goods might not abide in any other place thā wher Salomon had first set them: and that the taking of them thence, was the cause that Rome was sacked by the Vandals, & that the Vandals which had taken them from Rome, were vanqui­shed by the Romans. Wherunto the emperor Iustinian giuing credit, did by and by send all those goods to the temples and churches that were in Ierusalem. Augustus wold not enterprise any thing on the Nones of any month. Augustus being a welminded prince, would not enterprise any thing vpon the Nones of any month, saieng that he had tried those daies to be vnluckie: but he spake vpon pleasure. For in as much as he neuer tasted of a­ny other than good fortune in all his life, hee might well for­beare one day in a month. And yet if some good occasion had bene offered him to giue battell to his aduantage, or to retire to good purpose, I would hold him to haue ben but a bad cap­taine, if he had let so faire an oportunitie slip, which cannot be recouered when a man will, and whereof the good or bad suc­cesse, doth often times bring with it a maruellous sequele to the whole host. A notable fault of the Lacedemo­nians. And therefore (to my seeming) the Lacede­monians were greatly to blame, for that they seeing the dan­ger wherein all Greece was, and being otherwise desirous to pleasure the Athenians, who were then in Marathon redie to encounter with the Persians; would not send them any succor till the moone was at the full, at which time their succour stood them in no stead, because it came long after the battell.

The policie of Papirius.If the consul Papirius had bin of the same superstitious mind, he had neuer woon that notable battell against the Samnits, which was giuen contrary to all the bird-spels, euen when the pullets refused to eat, which was taken for an assured signe of the losse of the field. But the consull espieng the aduantage, meant not to beat his brains about such toies, but dealing dis­creetly, willed the maister of the Pullerie to assure his soul­diers that the Pullets had eaten. And when one of his com­panie hauing seene that i [...] was cleane contrarie, had filled all [Page 135] his armie with the superstition therof, & so as the brute therof came to the consuls hearing by the aduice of Spurius Papirius; The consul answered him, that he minded nothing but the doing of his dutie, and that if the pullet-master had lied, the sin should returne vpon him. And to make his word good, he placed the pullet-master in the foremost ranke, where he was presently slaine, whereof the consull being aduertised, said that all went well, and that the gods had discharged all their wrath vpon him. Of such as haue fought vnluckily against bird-gazing. But as for those that in fighting against the bird-spels and against superstition, haue al [...]o fought against their enemies without likelihood of good successe, they haue found themselues oftentimes ill apaid. As for example, Flam­mineus and Appius the faire, vnto whom when it was reported that the pullets cared not for their meat; Let vs see thē (quoth he) if they list to drinke, & made them to be drowned, imme­diatly whereupon he was vanquished in battell. If Hanniball had stood vpon Nones, or new-moons, when hee was beset round about by Fabius, and was fain to put fire vpon the horns of 2000 neat, to make way to escape out at, he had bin vn­done. It was not then time to tarrie till the morning, it stood him on hand to get thēce that present hour. These examples serue to teach a prince that hath superstitious people, and whom he cannot rid of that fantasie, at least wise to beguile them to a good end in their owne superstition. No guile is to be vsed in religion. For he that will beguile in religion, beguileth himselfe.

I know well that many princes haue made a vizor of re­ligion, and pretetended to be deuout and religious, only to bring their people to a religion, without the which they could not hold their subiects in obedience to them. But the reputa­tion that they haue gotten therby, was, that they were euill and deceitfull. Contrariwise, the good and religious prin­ces, haue compassed their affaires well, and left a good reputation behind them. The reward of the guilefull and wicked. And as Plato saith in his Com­man-weale, The wicked and guilefull sort, deale like them that talke much of running swiftly in a race, as though they wold win the goal from all men, & in the end do nothing but [Page 136] moue laughter, and returne home with their taile betwixt their legs; but good and vertuous men are like those that hold on in running to the end of the race, and are crowned as victors for their labor. For in the end they be had in esti­mation of all men. But as for the wicked and craftie sort, albe­it that they conceale their vices for a time; yet notwithstan­ding when they come to the end of their race, then they ap­peare what they be. A prince ought not to be an Hipo­crit. It is best therefore as well to God-ward as to man-ward, not to vse any counterfaiting, but to be vertuous in deed. And to attaine the more easily therunto, it behoueth him to doe as good and vertuous princes haue done, that is to wit, he must haue good and religious men about him; For with the good a man shalbe good, and with the wicked he shall be peruerted. He that is conuersant with the wise shalbe wise, (saith Salomon) but he that keepeth com­pany with fooles, shall haue sorrow. The prince that hath such good men about him, is councelled and quickned vp by them to vertue and weldoing; and he is afraid to doe euil, when he seeth such neere about him. Besides that, he pur­chaseth to himselfe a good reputation, which maketh all his attempts the more easie. For the people who iudge by out­ward apparance, are of opinion that their prince is good, when he entertaineth good and religious men ordinarily, and hath them ordinarily about him. Which thing the younger Denis could wel skill of, though he himselfe was neither religious, nor a vertuous prince. In his time men made account of So­phists, but he himselfe made no reckoning of them at all. And yet for all that, because he would be the better thought of by their means, and win the fauor of the people who had such men in estimation; he had of them ordinarily with him. For it is better that a prince should be an hipocrit; Time causeth a man to loue the honest things which he did but counterfait at the first. than a despiser of good and vertuous things, because such maner of counterfaiting and countenancing of good things, doth se­cretly bring with it in time, an affection of louing them, and a willingnesse to accustome himselfe to them in earnest. The emperor Adrian had vertuous and wise men, and learned [Page 137] Philosophers alwaies about his person, as well in time of peace as of warre, because the wise men taught to liue well, and the Philosophers to gouerne well. For (as Alexander Seuerus said) of trusting too much to a mans owne wit, com­meth commonly labour and losse, Of taking councell commeth great fruit. but of taking other mens aduise, followeth ordinarilie verie great fruit. In­somuch that whensoeuer hee had any matter to set in or­der concerning the common-weale, hee consulted of it aforehand with men of skill and experience, afore he did put it in execution, and such maner of men did alwaies follow him; among whom was one Vlpian a Lawier. Yea, and when he went a walking or a hunting, he would ne­uer bee without three or foure of the greatest personages and best experienced of his house, to the intent he would not be without counsell, if any matter of importance should come suddenly vpon him, and that the sight of such men neere about him, might keepe him from presuming to doe any vnhonourable fact.

Antigonus the second was woont to say when Zeno the Philosopher was dead, That he was bereft of the Thea­tre and stage of his honourable deeds, because hee was woont to referre all his actions to the iudgement of that good man. And if wee will descend into our owne histo­ries, we shall see what profit redounded to S. Lois, by being conuersant with men of Religion. For in so much as his mother had accompanied him with such folke from his in­fancie, he ceassed not to hold on afterward in the same trade and maner of life, wherein he had bin trained vp, insomuch that all his whole life was nothing else but a mirrour of holinesse.

CHAP. XV. That the Prince which will be well obayed, must shew good example in him selfe to his subiects.

THat which I haue spoken of Religion and Superstition is inough, notwith­standing that it be too little, as in re­spect of the things themselues. Now remaineth the winding vp of the mat­ter, and to end this booke withall, I am to shew in few words, what it is that vpholdeth both the prince and his subiects in all honour and honestie, Example in the prince himselfe ser­ueth to make the prince to be obayed. especially in the case of Religion; namely the good Example which the prince giueth vnto his subiects. For it serueth him aboue all things in the world, to make him to be obayed, and therewithal accustometh him to the loue of all honest things, though at the beginning he had no such will, as I haue said afore. And it prouoketh the subiects to follow their princes example, whom they see to be giuen to all vertuous things, and chiefly when he is giuen to religion. Take away religion, and ye take away obedience. For a prince cannot raigne, if his subiects be without religion; considering that in taking away religion, ye take away obedience to the prince. Therefore to hold the people in religion, there is nothing like vnto Example. And as a certaine Poet saith; Lawes and proclamations haue not so great force to procure o­bedience, as hath the life of the gouernour, because the people being subiect to alteration, doe chaunge with the prince.

If the prince be deuout and religious, the people will be deuout also; if he be superstitious, they become super­stitious too; if he be giuen to vice, so will they be also; if he be good, they abide good likewise, because there is not [Page 139] any thing that doth so much induce vs to doe well, as the innocencie and goodnesse of the prince or iudge, as saith Cassiodorus. For who will be afraid to doe wickedlie, when he seeth his lord doe as himselfe dooth? In vaine doth that prince foad himselfe with suretie of state, who is couetous, am­bitious, and vniust. For men are then afraid to doe amisse, when they thinke that it displeaseth their iudge. And as Cicero saith in his third booke of Lawes, A prince doth not so much harme in the very sinning, A prince doth not so much harme by his sin in it selfe, as by the ex­ample thereof vnto others. (although it be a great harme in deed) as he doth in making others to follow the example of his vices. And we see commonly, that looke what alteration soeuer happens in the prince, the same ensueth also in his peo­ple. For the change of conuersation of life in great personages, is wont to worke a change in the maners of the people; for that they keepe not their vices alonly to themselues, but doe shead them out vpon their subiects, so as the hurt which they doe, is not only in that they corrupt themselues, but also in that they corrupt others, doing more euill by their ex­ample, than by their bare sinne. For as much therefore, as the well-aduised prince is as a cresset vpon a bushell or ra­ther vpon a high towre, to giue light to all parts; hee ought to shine among his subiects, and to excell them in all deeds of vertue and godlinesse. For (as saith Cicero in his Inuectiues) he is to applie himselfe not only to their minds, but also to their eies. And like as a small blemish in a mans face, A small sinne seemeth great in a prince. disgraceth him more than a great scarre in all the rest of his body; euen so a small fault sheweth it selfe great in a prince, whose life men behold in the open light. And as Saluian Bishop of Marsels saith, The offence is the greater, where there is the greater prerogatiue. That is the cause why Dauid was punished by the death of his sonne, after that God had taken away his sinne; namely as the text saith, For that he caused the enemies to blaspheme the name of the Lord. So great is an offence in a publike person. For he that doth euill without giuing cause of offence vnto others, damneth but himselfe: but he that giueth euill ex­ample [Page 140] vnto others, and causeth mo for to sinne, must beare their penaltie, because he is the cause of their euill. Plato in his Lawes saith, That nothing doth more easily change laws, than the example of princes, so that a tyrant may in short time alter the lawes. For whether he intend to lead to ver­tue or to vice, he himselfe must first trace the way vnto o­thers, by allowing the one, and disallowing the other, and by dispising such as obay him not. And therefore he said in ano­ther place, That such as kings and gouernors are, such are their people; Wherein he agreeth with Ecclesiasticus, who saith, That such as the iudge of a people is, such are his mini­sters; and such as the ruler of a citie is, such are his citizens. Varia Mesa writing to Heliogabalus, admonished him after this maner; To reforme others, it behooueth you first to re­forme your selfe; and to chastise others, you must first cha­stise your selfe. The prince is a mirror to all his subiects. For euerie person be he of neuer so meane de­gree, doth commonly take example at that which he seeth done by his superiours, and especially by the prince, who is a looking-glasse to all his subiects. And in deed, we see how the Aegyptians gaue themselues to the Mathematicall sciences, because the most part of their kings loued those sciences. Because the kings of Asia gaue themselues to all delicacies, the people of that countrie were verie delicat and effemi­nate. Because Nero loued plaiers of enterludes, singing-men, and plaiers vpon instruments; there was not that Senator whose child studied not those arts. In the time of Marcus Aurelius his house was ful of wise and modest seruants. In the time of his sonne Commodus, Such as the prince is, such will bee his houshold, his court, and his kingdome. the palace was full of naughty-packs, & folk of lewd conuersation. And the said good empe­ror Marcus Aurelius was wont to say, That such as the prince is, such will his houshold be; such as his houshold is, such will his court be; and such as his court is, such will his kingdome be. We see in France, how the people haue euermore follow­ed their prince. King Francis loued learning, and his people gaue themselues wholy therevnto. He was sumptuous in ap­parell, and much more they that came after him. At this day [Page 141] there is not any thing omitted, for the well and rich attiring of folk, and for the delicate entertaining of them with all sorts of the choisest meats. Lewis the eleuenth, and the emperour Charles the fift, went modestly apparelled, and mocked such as decked themselues in rich attire: and their subiects did the like. That example of theirs did more in their time, than all the statutes of apparell could do, that haue bin made since. And that good time cōtinued vnto the reigne of king Francis, who begun to tread out the way to the inordinate and exces­siue chargablenesse, which ouerwhelmeth vs at this day. The booke entituled the Courtier, maketh mention of a Spaniard that held his necke awry, as Alfons king of Aragon did, (who, setting that aside, was a prince of very good grace) of purpose to follow the kings fashion, and to counterfait him in all that he could. For this cause Plato in his Lawes will haue old men (who ought to giue example to yoong men) to behaue themselues discreetly when they be in the companie of yoong folke, and to take good heed that no young man see them doe, There is not a better way to reforme o­thers, than to doe the same things which a man would say in that behalfe. or heare them speake, any vnhonest thing. For the best counsell that can be giuen to yoong or old, is not to taunt or checke them, but to shew and expresse the same thing in a mans whole life, which he would haue said in chec­king and blaming them. Which order Cicero following in his Duties, doth vtterly forbid an old man to giue himselfe to excesse, beause it bringeth double harme; first in that it pro­cureth him shame; and secondly in that it maketh the loose­nesse of yong folk more impudent. For yoong folks should be gouerned by the discretion of the old. And euen so is it between subiects and their princes. For if princes giue them not good example, it wil be hard to amend them afterward. Which thing euen the wickeddest princes perceiuing, haue pretended to make account of vertue, as I haue shewed in Tiberius, in Nero, and in Denis, who entertained the Sophists [...] win the peoples fauour. But in the end the truth bewraied it se [...]fe (as indeed nothing is so secret which shall not be re­uealed [...]nd they fell into the disfauour, contempt, and hatred [Page 142] of their people. Wherefore there is nothing to be compared to open walking, without any maner of counterfaiting, and to the giuing of good example throughout, that a prince may be the better followed, and the more beloued and esteemed of his people. Emperours that were war­riors, beloued of their soul­diers, for be­hauing them­selues fellow­like towards them. As for example, Piscennius Niger, Caracalla Maximine, Alexander Seuerus, and many other emperors that were warriors, did eate of the same bread that their soul­diers did; which thing made them beloued of all, and gaue example to euery man to doe as they did. For there is not a better exortation, nor a more effectual way to persuade, than when a prince doth the same things himselfe, which he would haue other men to doe. Agesilaus commaunded not his soul­diers to doe any worke to the which he himselfe did not first set his hand And to giue example to yoong men to endure cold, hee was seene to goe all the winter without a cloake, therby to allure the yoong men to do the like, when they saw that their prince being old and readie to passe out of the world, was not afraid of the cold. Xenophon in his first booke of the Education of Cirus, bringeth in Cambises telling Cirus, that to be first at worke himselfe, serued greatly to win his souldiers therunto. Is it your meaning then (quoth Cirus) that a prince ought in all things to endue more than his subiects? Yea surely (quoth Cambises) but plucke vp a good heart and consider with your selfe, that the prince and the subiect take not pains both with one mind. For the honor that a great lord receiueth assuageth his paine, for so much as all that euer he doth is knowne. Notable ex­amples of A­lexander, Cato, Dauid, and Alfons. Plutarch saith in the life of Cato of Vti­ca, That his souldiers honoured him exceedingly, and loued him singularly, because he was wont to be the first that did set hand to any worke that he commaunded; and in his fare, apparell, and going abroad, made himselfe equall rather to the meanest souldiers, than to the captaines, and yet in great­nesse of courage surmounted the best captains of all. Alexan­der in pursuing his victorie against Darius, became verie thi [...] ­stie, and when one of his souldiers offered him wat [...] in a Morion, he refused it, saying, That he would not by [...]s drin­king, [Page 143] increase the thirst of others. Whervpon his men seeing the noblenesse of his courage, cried out aloud vnto him, that he should hardily lead them on still, saying that their owne wearinesse and thirst was quite and cleane gone, and that they thought not themselues to be mortall any more, so long as they had such a king. The like befell to Cato of Vtica in Affrik, who being almost at the point to die for thirst, (as likewise all his armie was, being then in the middest of the sands of Lybia) when as the small quantitie of water which was in his host was all offered vnto him, not only refused it, but also spilt it on the ground, to the end that by his example, all the souldiers in his armie might learne to indure the thirst.

Albeit that Dauid longed to drinke of the water of a certaine well, that was in the possession of his enemies, and three of his armie brought therof vnto him, with great dan­ger of their liues; yet would he not drinke therof when it was brought vnto him, but vowed it vnto God for the safety of the three that had gotten it for him. On a time, when Alfons king of Aragon and Sicilie, was in a place where he could get no victuals, and a souldier of his brought him a morsell of bread and cheese, he refused it, saying that it was no reason that hee should eat, seeing his whole armie had not to eat as well as he. Plutarch saith, That the thing that most aduanced Marius, was that he neuer refused the re­quitall of kindnesse, for any paine or daunger that hung thereon; nor also disdained any thing, were it neuer so little; but striued to out-goe euen the meanest souldiers in simplicitie of fare, and in sufferance of labor, whereby he got the good will of euerie man. For it is a great comfort to such as take pains, to haue company that willingly take pains with them; because that to their seeming, it after a sort taketh away their constraint and necessitie. And it is a thing that wonderfully pleaseth the souldier, when he seeth his captaine eating openly of the same bread that he himselfe eateth, or sleeping vpon some pelting pad of straw, or the first man that sets his hand to the worke, when a trench [Page 144] is to be drawne, or a rampier is to be made to fortesie a camp. For they make not so great account of the captains that ho­nour them or reward them, Souldiers set not so much by them that reward them, as by them that take pain with them as they doe. as of the captaines that takes pains with them, and hazard themselues with them to the dangers of warre; yea, and there is this further, that they set more by those that take pains with them, than by those that suffer them to continue in idlenesse.

Artaxerxes king of Persia, marching in the countrie of the Cadusians, went foremost on foot, bearing his trusse vpon his shoulder in a skarfe, and his target on his arme, and so trauel­led ouer mountaines that were cragged and rough, insomuch that his souldiers seeing the courage of their king, & the pains that he tooke, went so light on the ground, that they seemed to haue had wings.

The emperor Iulian comming to a Marris, which he saw his enemies had drowned with water, to stop the passage of his armie, did put himselfe formost into the Marris, so that his armie being ashamed to refuse that which they saw the em­peror do, passed all through the Marris, marching in water vp to the knees. Great Alexāder perceiuing at the siege of Nysa, that his souldiers were loth to go to the assault, because of the deepnesse of the water, O wretch that I am (quoth he) which haue not learned to swim! and yet in the end hee passed the riuer, to giue example to his men. Himselfe also was the first that entered into the citie of the Malians, howbeit very vndiscreetly. Neuerthelesse his so doing made all the Mace­donians to come in after him, to saue his life. Demetrius being afore the citie of Thebes, went foremost himselfe to the bat­tell, to giue example to his men of warre, that they should not spare themselues, nor be afraid to put themselues in dan­ger. Also he was stricken quite and cleane through the necke with an arrow.

Iulius Caesar hazarded himselfe freely to all perill, neuer forbearing to take pains; and therefore his souldiers loued and esteemed him. The marques of Piscaria, to prouoke his foot-men to passe the foord of Brents, did set himselfe fore­most [Page 145] on foot to passe it with the brauest and honourablest captains of his principall bands, to shew himselfe in like for­tune with his souldiers. The emperors that haue not set their hands to good works haue bene dis­dained of their souldiers. As for those which haue refused to put their hand to work, and to giue example to their people, they haue not done themselues any good by it, but haue ben disdai­ned for their labour. As for example, Macrinus who went but with a wand in his hand, when he made his musters, or when he visited his men of warre, was despised for it of his souldiers, who sayd that a prince ought not to enter into the senathouse with arms, nor come into an armie without them; because the senathouse was to deale with matters of peace, and the campe with matters of warre. Therefore was he of so small estimati­on, that his men of war forsooke him, and in the end hee was vanquished by a woman.

Likewise the very presence of a prince in battel, Of the pre­sence of a Prince. is a kind of example. For it giueth courage to the souldiers, as I haue de­clared in the beginning of this booke, in speaking of the little child Europus king of Macedonie, whome they were faine to bring foorth to the souldiers in his cradle, and yet his presence gaue them such courage, that they vanquished their vanqui­shers, and went away with the victorie, though they had bene ouercome afore.

The Almaris at the iournie of Gwingate, were ignoraunt that the emperor Maximilian was comming to them: but as soone as they espied him all armed sauing his head, by and by taking his presence for a good foretoken of victorie, they be­gan to welcome him after this maner; God saue thee O em­perour, God preserue thee good father, God keepe thee O inuincible captaine; we haue alreadie woon the victorie, see­ing that thou our head art here: and it came to passe as they had forespoken.

When the armie of Alfons king of Arragon was readie to ioine battell with the armie of Renat, that was led by Antonie Caldora: the king fell to consulting how hee should demeane himselfe, and was counselled not to be there in person; wherat he taking disdaine, answered in great choler, How then? By [Page 146] your saying it should seeme, that the thing which hath bin wont to do most good in a battel, (namely the presence of the Generall) should doe most harme. I perceiue now that my men fight valiantly, and I will be the first at it, to shew that my presence is no impediment to your glorie and good fortune. When Perses the last king of Macedonie was to ioyne bat­tell with the Romanes, he withdrew himselfe out of the field, vnder colour to doe sacrifice to Hercules, who could not find in his heart to accept the offerings of a coward; and so he fai­led not to lose the field. But the great captaines, as Pirrhus, Philip, Alexander, Antigonus, Traiane, and generally all the great princes, Whether wars are to bee made by Lieutenants. haue made warre by themselues, and not by their lieutenants. I graunt that some haue made warre luckily by their lieutenants, as Charles the fift king of France; and the emperor Charles the fift, in the battell of Pauie: but yet there is none to the presence of the prince himselfe, when any goodly exploit is to be done. For as the French prouerbe saith, The sheepe serue to no purpose where the shepheard is away. But after his fortunate incounter at Pauie, the em­perour Charles of whome I now speake, did neuer enter­prise any thing, whereat he himselfe was not present, as the voyage of Argier, the voiage of Goulette, the voiage of Prouince, the war in Germanie made in the dead of winter, when he himselfe was diseased with the gout, and ill at ease in his bodie; The presence of the prince, seruerh great­ly to the get­ting of the victorie. the wars made many times in France, and especial­ly at the siege of Mets in the dead of winter. For the presence of the prince is worth ten thousand men. Whē Antigonus the second was purposed to giue battell vpon the sea to Ptolomie, his Pilot told him that his enemies had many more ships than he. And how many ships (quoth he) thinke you my pre­sence may counteruaile? As who would say, it is a great sway to the victorie, when a valeant prince is present, which can skill how to gouerne. The Numantines had obtained many victories of the Romanes, vntill in the end Scipio was sent thither to haue the commaunding of the armie, whose arriual there made the chance of the warre to turne. For euer after [Page 147] the Numantines went by the worst, neuerthelesse their cap­tains bad their souldiers that they should not be afraid, for the Romans were but the very same people, whom they thēselues had vanquished so oft afore. True it is indeed (said one a­mong them) they be the same sheepe, but they haue another maner of shepheard. Antigonus hearing by some prisoners, that Eumenes was sicke, (as he was indeed) and therupon con­iecturing that he should with small adoe discomfit his armie in his absence, made all the hast he could to giue battell. But when he came so neere, that he might well and plainly descry the order & behauior of his enemies, who were so well ranged in order of battell as possibly could be, The presence of Eumenes causeth Anti­gonus to re­tire. he staied a long while altogether distroubled, and as it were astonished, in the which time he perceiued the horslitter of Eumenes passing from the one side of the battell to the other, and therewithall he began to say, Yon same (in mine opinion) is the litter that ma­keth vs war, and offereth vs battel. And with that word he caused the retreit to be sounded, and conueyed his men backe into his camp. Iulius Caesar did put himselfe in great perill, by going to find his armie that was distressed by the Gauls, and by his only presence did rid them of the distresse, giuing them courage to fight; so greatly was his name redouted of his ene­mies. Cabades king of Persia, seeing his men repulsed from the citie Damida, vvhich he had surprised and scaled, and hovv that many of them began to come dovvne the ladders, be­cause the men of the citie made them to leape dovvne from aboue, stepped to the foote of a ladder vvith his svvord dravvne, and threatned to kill as many of them as came dovvne. And so the presence of the king caused many to mount vp the ladders againe, and many that had begun to giue ouer, fell so lustily to scaling againe, that in the end they tooke the citie. The prince of Wales, to giue courage to his men of vvarre, vvas personally at the castle of Remoren­tin, by vvhose presence the Englishmen gaue such a forcible assault, that they vvhich vvere vvithin vvere faine to yeeld themselues.

[Page 148] Henrie king of Castile seeing his armie begin to scatter, as­sembled them againe three times, and with his incouraging of them, made them to endure the battell a long time, so as they durst not any more flee for shame, when they saw their lord and king fight so valiantly, and speake so amiably.

Ferdinand king of Naples doth by his presence cause his sub­iects to return vnder his obe­dience. Ferdinand king of Naples, perceiuing the Neapolitans to re­bell at the change of his fortune, at such time as Charles the eighth subdued all vnder his obedience: departed suddenly from Capua and drue streight to Naples. As soone as he arri­ued there, euery man laying downe his weapon, came to wel­come him with singular affection, ceasing their vprores in all places.

Consalua being brought to distresse at Barlette, and yet cheerefully ouerpassing all pains matched vvith great scarcitie of victuals, and of all other things needfull, did by his example hold in the Spaniards a long time, who were forewearied with trauell, and in the end got the vpper hand of the Frenchmen. At such time as king Henrie the second was fiercely assailed in his own realme at two places at once, and could not put gar­risons in all the towns on the frontiers: the admirall Hannibalt being aduertised that the enemies made towards Fere, with ful assurance to get possession thereof; conueid himselfe into it with a few men, and saued the towne by his presence. For the enemies thought that so great a lord vvould not shut vp him­self vvithout a good companie, and othervvise they esteemed him to be a vvise captaine, as hauing had triall of him afore, at Mesieres, at Petone, and at Laundersey, hovv greatly the pre­sence of a good captain auaileth, vvhich maketh weake towns impregnable.

CHAP. I. ¶Of Wisedome, and Discreetnesse.

IN old time, when by Gods suffe­rance Oracles had place, the citie of Delphos was renowned through the whole world, for the prowd and state­ly temple there, which was dedicated and consecrated to Apollo, whereunto folke resorted frō al parts of the world to aske counsell, and to heare the an­swers that were giuen by his image. At the enterance of this goodly Temple, What it is to know ones selfe. were written these words, KNOW THY SELFE. In the interpretation of which words, many haue erred, imagining that a man knows himselfe, when he can skill of the things that concerne his duetie or office, and his mysterie, trade of liuing, or profession; as when a Sur­gion can skill to launce a sore, or a Phisition to heale a disease, or a Shoomaker to make a Shoe. But none of all these is the knowing of a mans selfe. And though a man beheld all the parts of his bodie, yet knew he not himselfe the more for all that. For as Plato saith, He that knoweth his bodie, kno­weth that which is his, but he knoweth not himselfe. So that neither Phisition nor handicraftsman knoweth himselfe, but their knowledge is of things that are separated from them­selues. Wherefore to speake properly, none of them accor­ding [Page 150] to their art, can bee said to be wise. Likewise hee that hath a care of his owne body, mindeth that which is his, and not himselfe. And vvhosoeuer loueth a man, cannot bee dee­med to loue his bodie, but his soule. Therefore vvhen we say, a man must know himselfe: it is as much to say, as hee must haue a care of his soule, to prepare it to the knowing of God his maker, after whose image it is created, that hee may, as it were in a looking glasse behold the inuisible Godhead, the ef­ficient cause of wisedome, and of all good things; and that by the knowledge of the vertues which God hath giuen vn­to him, he may consider how greatly he is indetted vnto God, and that he hath not any thing of himselfe, but that all com­meth of God. And when he knoweth what he is, that is to wit a reasonable creature, then lifteth he vp his heart (as is soong in the church); that is to say, he lifteth vp his mind to the au­thor of his welfare.

To know God, it behooueth a man to know himselfe.Now then, to know God, it behooueth to haue the know­ledge of our selues, that is to wit, of our inward man, which is framed of diuine essences, to the intent we despise not the hea­uenly vnderstanding and mind that was giuen to man in his creation, for want of knowing it aright, and for want of consi­dering the vertue and power thereof; least through want of such vnderstanding thereof, in steed of being wise and wel ad­uised, and in steed of chusing the good way, wee follow the woorser, and (as Dauid saith) Become like the horse and mule, for not considering what God hath bestowed vpon man. Therefore it standeth vs on hand to consider from whence we be, and to what end we be created; that by beholding the excellencie which we haue receiued of God, we may submit our selues wholy vnto him, and to his wisedome; which inui­teth vs thereunto, as is to bee seene in fiue hundred places of the booke of Wisdome. Those then which refer al their acti­ons to the said first cause, we call Wise men, according to the writings both of the Bible, and also of the Heathen authors, specially of the great Mercurie, The first point of wisedome is to know ones selfe. Plato, and Cicero, who affirme, That the first point of wisedome, is to know a mans selfe. And [Page 151] by this knowledge a man shall perceiue wherat he ought to leuell himselfe, and so he shall foresee the impediments that may hinder & annoy him. He then which hath not wisdome, cannot discerne what is his, or what is well or ill done; neither can we know what is ours, vnlesse we know our selues. And he that knoweth not what is his, is also ignorant what is another mans; and consequently he is ignorant what belongeth to the commonweale, and so shal he neuer be good housholder, or good common-weales man, because he knoweth not what he doth. By reason wherof, he shall walke on in error, wande­ring and mistaking his marke; so as he shall not atchieue any thing of value, or if he doe, yet shall he be but a wretch. For no man can be happie or gouerne happily, vnlesse he be good and wise, because it is only he that discerneth good from euill. Now if this saying may be verefied of al mē, much more with­out comparison doth it agree to princes than to other men, be­cause they haue authoritie aboue all: and to execute authori­tie well, it behoueth to haue Discretion and Wisedome. For reason would, that the wise should commaund the ignorant, according to the saying of Ecclesiasticus, That the free-borne shall serue the bondmen that are wise. The better sort ought to rule the wor­ser. And as Dennis of Hali­carnassus saith, It is a law common to all, that the better sort should commaund the worser. It is they therefore to whom the said goodly precept is chiefly appointed, to the end they should know the being and state of their soule, the force and power wherof consisteth in wisdome, whose ground is truth. For it is the propertie of wisdome to discerne the truth of all things, whereby the darknesse of ignorance is driuen out of our mind, and light is giuen vnto vs. In this respect Iacob hauing gotten wisdome by trauel, is said in Genesis to haue had the sight of God: because that to the actiue life, he had also ioyned the contemplatiue. In so much that we may say, that the wise man is the cleeresighted, and hath iudge­ment & reason to discerne good from euil, that he may keepe himselfe from being deceiued. Cicero in his Academiks. For nothing is more contrarie to the grauitie of a wise man, than error, lightnes, and rashnesse.

[Page 152] Cicero in his books of Duties.And although Wisdome and Discreetnesse doe well be­seeme all men, because it is the propertie of man to search the truth, as who (being partaker of reason, gathereth the cō ­sequencies of things by considering their principall causes and proceedings: The excellen­cie of Wis­dome.) yet notwithstanding Wisdome is an essen­tiall thing in princes and gouernors. For nothing doth so firmly stablish a principalitie, as a wise man, who (as saith Ec­clesiasticus) instructeth his people, and the faithfull are the fruits of his vnderstanding. The wise man shal be replenished with blessednesse, and as many as see him shall commend him. And in the third chapter of Salomons Prouerbs, it is said; That the purchace of Wisdome is more worth, than all that euer a man can gaine by the trafficke of gold and siluer; and all that euer man can wish is not comparable vnto hir. For that very cause there was a writing in the foresaid temple of Del­phos, which commaunded men to honor Wisdome and iu­stice, whom Hesiodus and Pindarus faigned to sit at Iupiters side. Wisdome the mother of all good things. Wherefore we may well say, That Wisdomes is the mo­ther of all good things, and the tree of life that was in the earthlie Paradise, as saith S. Austine in his thirteenth booke of the citie of God. And to shew the excellencie therof yet more, Ecclesiasticus saith, That Wisdome is a greater aid and strength to a wise man, than ten gouernors are to a country. And therefore in the 16 of the Prouerbs it is said, That Pro­phesie is in the lips of a king; which thing is meant of a wise king. After which maner he saith in another place, that the delight of a king is in a wise seruant; which is to be vnderstood of a good and wise king. For commonly els such men are not welcome to princes. But as Aesop saith, either a man must please a king, or els he must not come at him.

Bion was wont to say, That Wisdome goeth before the other vertues, Wisdome go­eth before all other ver­tues. as the sight goeth before the other sences, and that without wisdome there is no vertue at all. For how were it possible for the iust man to yeeld vnto euery man that which belongs to him, if Wisdome had not taught him what is due to euery man? Therfore afore wee enter into the [Page 153] morall vertues, it is requisite by the way to speake a word of the contemplatiues; namely of Wisdome and Discreation: because that without contemplation ioyned with skill, a man can doe nothing that is beautifull and good. The Stoiks make no difference betweene these two vertues, sauing that Wisdome consisteth in the knowledge of things belonging both to God and man; and Discreetnesse consisteth only in things belonging to man. For both of them be contempla­tiue vertues, proceeding from the mind and vnderstanding. But yet one of them is meerely contemplatiue, Of Wisdome. that is to wit, Wisdome, which (after the opinion of antient Philoso­phers) is occupied but in contemplation of the heauen, the earth, and the stars, respecting nothing but such things as are euerlasting and vnchanged; and because they be not subiect to any alteration, man needeth not to scan of them. And as Aristotle saith in his sixt booke of Morals, It behooueth a wise man not only to vnderstand whatsoeuer may be gathe­red of principles, but also to vnderstand the principles them­selues truly, Plutarch in his treatise of Morall ver­tue. and to speake truly of them. And as a Geometri­cian scanneth not whether a triangle haue three angles made by the meeting and closing together of three right lines, but holdeth it for an vndoubted certaintie; Wisdome is not subiect to doubting. so the contemplatiue vnderstanding, doth not so much as dreame of any thing that admitteth any alteration; neither is it subiect to consulting and deliberating. But Discreetnesse, which is cumbered with things vntrue, erronious, and troublesome, and is to deale with casuall aduentures, is driuen to consult of things doubt­full, and after consultation to put it selfe in action. All vertue consisteth in action. For as Cicero saith, All vertue consisteth in action. Concerning the which, we will hold still the precept which he giueth vs in his books of Duties, where he saith, A man must not vphold things vn­known, for knowne. That whosoeuer will be wise, must eschew two vices, one is, he must not vphold things vnknown as known: and to eschew the falling into that vice, he must spend time and labour in considering things aforehand. For if a mans wit be not confirmed and fortified by reason, Plutarch in the life of Ti­moleon. he doth easily wauer, and is easily driuen from the discourse wheron [Page 154] he was grounded at the first. Therefore it behooueth that the resolution whereto he sticketh be firme, and not subiect to alteration, least he doe things afore he haue well considered and tried thē, and so it befal him as doth to liquerous persons, which oftentimes desire some meat with [...]ouer-earnest appe­tit, wherof whē they haue once had their fil, by & by they be weary of it, which thing happeneth to such as enterprise any thing lightly, and without good aduisement aforehand. But the choice that is grounded vpon sure knowledge and firme discourse of reason, dooth neuer alter, though the thing that was vndertaken come not to good end. The other vice wher­of Cicero maketh mention, is, that some men set all their stu­die vpon things difficult and needlesse, after the maner of the ouer-profound wisdome of men in old time, to the which wis­dome Socrates would in no wise giue himselfe. Therfore let vs omit that kind of wisdome, as wherof we haue not to treat here, and wherunto we cannot attaine. For the former Philo­sophers gaue themselues the title of Wise men; yet notwith­standing, those that haue bin wiser than they, would not take that title vnto them. As Pithagoras, who said, He was but only a louer of wisdome. And Socrates, who confessed himselfe to know nothing. By reason wherof he was accounted the wisest man of his time. And neuer since was there any man so proud and presumptuous, as to take that title vpon him. As for vs that are Christians, we ought to reiect it vtterly, because the name of wisdome is attributed to the sonne of God, and that God only is wise: so that we agree with the philosophers, That wisdome consisteth rather in heauenly things, and in a cer­taine contemplation, Of Discreet­nesse. than in action. And therfore letting it alone, we will returne to the other contemplatiue vertue, which is called Discreetnesse, and (commonly) Wisdome al­so. But that is an vnpropper kind of speaking, whether we ap­ply the tearme to matter of vnderstanding, or to matter of art. As for example, when we say that Phidias was a wise in­grauer, in so saying we intend to shew the vertue of the art, because wisdome is the perfectest of all skils. Which word [Page 155] Wisdome, I shall be faine to vse sometimes, (because it is so vsed in our common speech) not for the wisdome that sear­cheth things diuine, wonderfull and hard to attaine vnto, but for the vertue of deliberating, which we call Discreetnesse, wherewith we haue to deale in humane affaires. For as Ari­stotle saith in his sixt booke of his Morals, No man consulteth of things that are vnpossible, and whose end is not the good that consisteth in action. Discreetnesse is not gotten but by adui­sed delibera­tion. But Discreetnesse which the com­mon sort call wisdome, and consisteth chiefly in the choise of good from euil, is not goten but by aduised deliberation, wher­through we refuse the euill and chuse the good. Which thing cannot be done by a foole, or by a harebraind person. For as Sa­lomon saith in his Prouerbs, The foole hath no delight in Discreetnesse, but in the imaginations of his owne heart. Phi­l [...] the Iew expounding the first chapter of Moses, saith, That by the knowledge of good and euill, Discreation is to be vn­derstood, which discerneth and deemeth as a iudge be­tweene one thing and another. The definiti­on of Dis­creetnesse. Therefore let vs come to the definition of Discreetnesse, the which Cicero in his Acade­miks calleth the Art of liuing, and which we may say to be the way and path that leadeth to the morall vertues. Aristo­tle saith, that Discreetnesse is an habit matched with the ve­ry reason that is peculiar to action, and discourseth what is good or euil. And in another place he saith, That it is the ver­tue of the reasonable part, which prepareth the things that pertain to happinesse, meaning the happinesse that cōsisteth in the good estate of the soule, and not in the outward euent of things. For the well doing of things is the end of our actiōs, & of our taking of thē in hand. And therfore a good housholder, whom we call a good husband, & a good cōmon-weale man, whom we call also a man that hath good skill in matters of state; (of whom the one hath an eye to the things that are good for himselfe, The diffe­rence be­tweene a dis­creet man, and a wel-ad­uised man. and the other to the things that are good for the common-weale) are esteemed wise and discreet, when they performe their charge well. There is yet another difference betweene a discreet man, and a wel-aduised man. [Page 156] For the man which aimeth at some certaine point, and im­ployeth all his naturall wits to reach therunto, if it be for an euill end, is neuerthelesse accounted wel-aduised, wheras (to say more truly) he is subtle and wilie; and if it be for a good end and in a vertuous matter, he is counted wise and discreet. For as Aristotle saith in his Morals, It is vnpossible for an euill man to be wise. Cicero in his Duties. But he that in all thing seeth cleerely what is true, and can by good iudgement and sharpenesse of wit conceiue the reason therof; that man is reputed wise, and therfore men seeke vnto him in all their affaires. And as in sailing (saith Socrates) men beleeue the Pilot of the ship; so ought we to beleeue the wisest in al the actions of our life. For the Pilot guideth the ship by his discretion; and as Ho­mer saith in his Iliads, One Wagoner outgoeth another by his aduisement. Cicero in his Cato. It is not by the strength and lightsomnesse of body: but by discreation and well-aduisednesse, that men doe great things. And as Horace saith in his Odes, Force without discretion ouerthroweth it selfe. For wisdome is better than strength, saith Ecclesiasticus. And Salomon saith in his Prouerbs, that the wise man hath great strength; for by discretion is warre made, and by good counsell is victorie obtained. Phocili­des saith: that a wise man is more worth than a strong man. And Euripides saith, That wise counsell is able to vanquish great hosts. And therefore at Lacedemon the captaine that had compassed his matters by policie, did sacrifice to their gods with an Oxe; The Lace­demonians made more account of an exploit done by poli­cie, than of an exploit done by force of arms. and he that had compassed them by force, sacri­ficed a cocke. For although they were a warlike people, yet they deemed that exploit to be greater and more beseeming a man, that was atchieued by good aduisement, skill, and rea­son, than that which was executed by valeantnesse and force of arms. And as Alamander the Sarzin said, Those that are of most skill in warre, how strong soeuer they be besides, had le­uer to intrap their enemies by sleights and policies, than to encounter them valiantly at the swords point. And Blondus in his triumph at Rome saith, That the chiefe of an armie should fight by discretion and policie, rather than by bold­nesse [Page 157] and valiancie, because there is no comparison betweene wisdome and strength of bodie. For he that thinks there is no good to be done but by hand-strokes, is so farre off from being valiant, that he is rather to be esteemed rash, hare-braind, and furious.

Cicero in his booke of inuention saith, That there are of dis­creetnesse three parts, Memorie, Skill, and Fore-cast, Memo­rie, whereby things past are called to mind againe; Skill, which knoweth and vieweth things present; and Fore-cast, which considereth what may happen afore it come. Others doe set downe eight parts of discreetnesse; to wit, Remem­brance, Fore-cast, Skil, Reason, Quickenesse of wit, Teacha­blenesse, Experience, and Warinesse. I count him a discreet man that is sufficient to gouerne others. For the doing wher­of foure things are to be considered; first the good wherunto the discreet man leadeth others, wherein it behoueth him to haue remembrance and fore-cast. The maner of gouerning, for the which it behooueth him to bee a man of skill and reason. In his leading of other men he must haue cunning and liueli­nesse of wit, and he must be teachable and easie to beleeue good counsell. And in respect of all those whome hee gouer­neth he must be of good experience, and wel-aduised, that he may refuse the euill and chuse the good. VVilfull igno­rance. The contrarie to discreetnesse, is vndiscreetnesse or wilfull ignorance, when a man neither knoweth nor will learne to know any thing, (which is the thing that most troubleth the life of man; Cicero in his booke of Lawes. and as Plato saith in his Lawes, That man is ignorant which musli­keth the good, and loueth that which is noughtworth.) And when the will is bent against skil and reason, which naturally beareth chiefe sway.

Discreetnesse then is a vertue of the mind proceeding from a good vnderstanding and iudgement, which is encrea­sed by knowledge and experience, and consisteth in the loo­king into things, to the end that men may find them easie and readie to be delt with, afore they goe in hand with them, foreseeing what may or should ensue by things already past. [Page 158] And because the euents of things (as saith Aristotle) yeeld not themselues vnto our wils, we must apply our wils to the euents, Therence in his Adelphis. howbeit so as our wils be ruled by discretion. For mans life is like a game at tables, where if a man meet with a cast of the dice that he would not haue, he must amend it by his cunning in play, The effects of Discreation. as good table-players doe. The effects of dis­creation are to take deliberation, to discouer good and euill, and whatsoeuer els is to be followed or shunned in this life, to vse all maner of goods honestly, to be of good conuersation with all men, to foresee occasions and aduentures, and to haue experience of good and profitable things. As touching me­morie and quicknesse of wit, experience and knowledge, ei­ther they be helps to discretion, as experience and memorie; or els they make a part of discretion, as skill and quicknesse of wit. The praises of Wisdome. Thus you see what wisdome is, the which Aristotle, spea­king of the vertues, doth rightly terme the queen of al other vertues, as which sheweth vs the order that we ought to keepe in all things, which driueth away all incumberance and feare out of our mind, maketh vs to liue in tranquilitie, and quencheth all the heat of lust and couetousnesse. S. Iohn Chrysostome vpon the thirteenth Psalme, calleth it the lan­terne of the soule, the queene of thoughts, and the schoole­mistresse of good and honest things. It is a vertue royall in deed, and the helme and helue of kings, without the which they cannot gouerne well. This is it that made kings at the beginning (as I haue said heretofore) and chose them out of the people, as most discreet and worthie of all the multitude. By wisdome men dispose of things present, & foresee things to come. By it we bridle our affections, & purchase honour, as Salomon saith in the fourth of the Prouerbs, It maketh vs to gouerne orderly, both in matters of peace and war; and suffe­reth vs not to fall nor to be surprised vnawares: It maketh vs to doe the good, and to eschew the euill. For Wisdome (as Alexander of Aphrodyse saith) is the skil what is to be done, and what is to be left vndone. Therefore only the wise man is worthy to gouerne And (as Plato saith) happie be those com­mon-weales [Page 159] and kingdomes, The wise stand not vp­on lawes, but line by the rule of vertue. where Philosophers are kings, or the kings be Philosophers. For the wise man or Philoso­pher hath this prerogatiue aboue othermen, that he liueth after the rule of vertue, without musing vpon lawes, because he vseth reason for his law, as Antist [...]enes and Aristippus said, insomuch that if all lawes were abolished, yet would he not cease to liue vprightly, as one that knoweth what is honest, and what is vnhonest.

Aristotle being demaunded what profit he reaped of Phi­losophie, answered, That I doe those things vncommaunded, which other men doe for feare of lawes. S. Paul to Ti­mothie. For the law is not set downe for the righteous, but for the vnrighteous, saith S. Paul ▪ And therefore, if he that raigneth be not wise, his kingdome cannot be happie. Cursed is that kingdome where a babe raigneth, because the babe wanting the vse of reason, cannot order his affaires with aduised Discretion. Cirus was woont to say, That no man ought to take vpon him the charge of commaunding, vnlesse he were better than they whom hee is to commaund. For he that is a good man and commaundeth well, is commonly well obayed. When one had said that Lacedemon had bin vpheld by the skilful­nesse of the kings to commaund well; The com­maundement of the prince, and the obe­dience of the subiect, are answerable either to o­ther. nay (quoth Theopompus) but rather by the skill of the inhabitants to obay wel. For the cōmandement of the prince & the obediēce of the subiects, are answerable either to other. For commonly men mislike to obay those, which haue no skil to cōmaund wel. Insomuch that the faithful obediēce of the subiect dependeth vpon the sufficiencie of a good prince to commaund well. For he that well guideth, causeth himselfe to be well followed. And like as the perfection of the art of riding and of the rider, Plutarch in the life of Li­curgus. consi­steth in making the horse obedient, and in subduing him to reason: euen so the principall effect of a kings skill, He that well guideth, is wel followed. is to teach his subiects to obay well.

Antonie the Meeke was a vertuous and wise emperor, and so well aduised in all his doings, that he neuer repented him of any thing that he did. Wherat a Senator of Rome marue­ling, [Page 160] asked him how it came to passe, that his affaires had so good successe, that he neuer repented him of any thing that he did, that he was neuer denied any thing that he asked, and that he neuer commaunded any thing which was not obayed. It is (quoth he) because I make all my doings confor­mable to reason; I demaund not any thing which is not right­full, and I commaund not any thing which redoundeth not more to the benefit of the commonweale, than to mine own profit. To conclude, Wisdome is a shield against all misfor­tune. Wisdome is a shield against all misfor­tune. Men in old time were wont to say, that a wise man might shape his fortune as he listed; supposing that misfortune, be it neuer so ouerthwart, is wonderfully well ouer ruled by the discreation of a wise and sage person. Prosperitie commeth of wisdome. And as Plutarch saith in the life of Fabius, The Gods doe send men good lucke and prosperitie, by means of vertue and discreation, notwithstan­ding that the euents of fortune be not all in our power, as said Siramnes, who being demaunded why his so goodly & so wise discourses had not euents answerable to their deserts; because (quoth he) to say and to doe what I list is in mine owne power, but the sequele and successe thereof, is altogether in fortune, and in the king. Therefore when Phocion the Athenian had resisted Leosthenes in a certaine case, wherof notwithstanding the euent was prosperous, and saw that the Athenians glori­ed of the victorie which Leosthenes had gotten, I am well con­tented (quoth he) that this is done, but yet would I not but that the other had bin councelled. Iulius Caesar gloried in his good fortune, but yet his bringing of his great enterprises to passe, was by his good gouernment and experience in feats of warre. To be short, the wise and discreet man findeth nothing strange, neither feareth he any thing, no not though the whole frame of the world (as Horace saith) should fall vpon him. The reason wherof is, that he had minded it long time afore­hand, and had fore-considered what might happen vnto him, and had prouided remedie for all by his foresight and discrea­tion. For as Salomon saith, The mind of the wise shall not be attainted, no not euen with feare. Such folke are not subiect, [Page 161] neither too great greefe, nor too excessiue ioy: they neuer wāt hope, neither do they quaile for any misfort [...]ne: so that they be hard to be ouercome, because they be fully resolued of all things that may betide them, and do take order for all things aforehand by their wisedome. For wisedome (saith Salomon) is to his ownour as a liuely fountaine, as a deepe water, and as a flowing streame. And as a ioint of timber closed together in the foundation of a building, cannot be disioined, so also can­not the heart that is stablished in the thoughts of discretion. And as S. Austin sayth, Wisdome teacheth vs to continue at one stay, both in prosperitie and aduersitie, like vnto the hand which changeth not his name, but is alwaies one, whether it be held out, or gathered vp together. And albeit that wisdome be a gift of God, and come of a well disposed mind, and of a good vnderstanding, yea and of a body that is well tempered, as witnesseth Galen in his first booke of Temperatures, where he sayth, That the first action of a man of good temperature, The first actiō of a man of good tempe­rature, is Dis­cretion. is Discretion; yet is it gotten by learning and discipline. For the true desire of discipline is the beginning of wisdome. Also it is gotten by long experience and knowledge of things past, and by continuall exercise in dealing, with sundrie affairs. For as Afranius sayd (by report of Aulus Gellius) Wisedome is be­gotten by vse, and conceiued by memorie; meaning thereby, that it consisteth in bookes, which put vs in remembrance of things past, and in experience which is the vse and practise of wisedome. In so much that neither he that hath but only lear­ning, nor he that hath but only experience, is able to attain vn­to wisdome: but he that will deale perticularly and vniuer­sally in all affairs, must haue them both, as well the one as the other. And as Aristotle saith, there are three things needfull to the obtainment of Wisdome, namely, Nature, Learning, and Exercise. For it is in vaine to striue against Nature, Lear­ning must be had at learned mens hands, and Exercise is the perfection of learning. And therefore it will not be amisse to treat of Learning and Experience.

CHAP. II. That the good gouernour must match Learning and Experience together.

AS the body is made the more strong and better disposed by moderat exer­cise: so mans vnderstanding grow­eth and encreaseth by learning, and becommeth the stronger and better disposed to the managing of affairs. In which respect, Demetrius Phala­reus counselled Ptolomie king of Ae­gypt, to make diligent search for such bookes as treated of kingdoms, and declared the qualities that are requisit for the well and due executing of the office of a king. And Alexander Seuerus neuer sat in counsell vpon any case of importance, or vpon any matter of state and war, but he called such to coun­sell as bare the name to be well seene in histories. Bias would not haue any man chosen a gouernour in his common-wealth, but such as were of skill; The want of skil is cause of great mis­chiefe. saieng that the want of skill is the cause of great inconueniences. Philip commaunded Alexan­der to obey Aristotle, and to be a good student: to the intent (quoth he) that ye do not many things whereof ye shal repent you afterward. Adrian as well in peace as in warre, had of the skilfullest Philosophers alwaies about his person; and among others, he had two great lawyers, Saluius and Neratius. Plu­tarke in the life of Coriolan sayth, that the greatest fruit that men reape of the knowledge of good learning, is that therby they tame and meeken their nature, that afore was wild and f [...]erce, so that by vse of reason, they find the Meane, and leaue the Extream. When one asked Alfons king of Arragon, wher­fore he did so greatly loue learning? Because (qd. he) by rea­ding I haue learned war and the law of arms: acknowledging [Page 163] therein, that no wit be it neuer so good, can fashion it selfe wel and become worthie of the charge which it shall vndertake, without learning and doctrine. Like as the fattest ground in the world can beare no corne except it be well tilled: so na­ture of it selfe draweth and prouoketh vs, by giuing vs a de­sire of knowledge and skill, as Cicero saith in his books of Du­ties; but Ignorance (which wee find fault with, as with the thing that darkeneth and defaceth mans vnderstanding) can­not be done away, but by learning. My meaning is not to make a prince perfectly skilful in all sciences, but only in that kind of learning which concerneth histories, and precepts of good life, according to the counsell of Demetrius and Isocrates, who said, that the wisdome which is proper to kings, The wisedome of a king con­sisteth in lear­ning and ex­perience. consi­steth in Learning and Experience; of which two, Learning teacheth the way to doe well, and Experience teacheth the meane how to vse Learning well. And albeit that Traian, (who was one of the best princes of the world) gaue not him­selfe to learning for any commendation therof that Plutarke made vnto him; saieng that the gods immortall had not made him to turne ouer the leaues of bookes, but to deale with martiall affairs: yet was he not an vnskilfull person, nei­ther misliked he of learned men, but had Philosophers, Law­yers, and other men of good learning and knowledge neere a­bout him. And notwithstanding that he was well aduised and discreet, yet in doing many things vpon his owne head, he fai­led not to doe some whereof he repented afterward, because the benefit of nature was not sufficiently kiltred by learning, which is the thing wherein princes faile. For if they bee not taught by the dumb scholemaisters, that is to say, by bookes, they will hardly be taught by the liuely voice; because the schoolemaister is afraid and dareth not compell them, but let­teth them doe what they list at their own discretion, & there­fore they cannot learne so well as others that are vnder cor­rection. But the booke although it doe not speake, vttereth what it listeth, without either feare or blushing, and giueth such warnings vnto Princes, as their tutors durst not doe. [Page 164] Therefore all their recourse ought to be vnto bookes, as well to vnderstand the truth, as to learne the historie, wherein they shall see a thousand policies of warre, infinit goodly sayings, a thousand inconueniences that haue lighted vpon euil princes, their grossenes, their lewdnesse, and their wickednesse. On the contrarie part, they shall take singular pleasure in reading the praises of good princes; they shall see their wisedome, ver­tue, and good demeanor in matters both of peace and warre. How they defended themselues frō their enemies, how they wound themselues out of their hands, what they did to main­taine their states, and what got them their good reputation, and made them to prosper in all things. Which thing the va­leantest captains could well skill to put in practise; who not only haue helped themselues by learning in the managing of their affairs, as Cicero and Lucullus (who had small experience of warre) Alexander the great, Iulius Caesar, and infinit other great captains: but also haue set downe to themselues as it were in a looking-glasse, some such personages as they haue liked to follow. As for example, Alexander setting Achilles before him for his patterne, neuer slept without the Iliads of Homer vnder his pillow. The paterne of Iulius Caesar was A­lexander; and Cirus was the pattern of Scipio, who neuer went without a Xenophon: no more did Alfons king of Arragon go without the Commentaries of Caesar; nor the emperour Charles the fift, without the Remembrances of Philip of Comines.

After whose example, all noble-minded princes, ought first to haue the histories of the holy Bible, and (besides them) of the Heathen histories, the liues of Traian, Anto­nie the Meeke, Alexander the Stern, & such others, by whom they shal learne to order their life aright. And to allure them the more vnto learning, The praise of Learning. I will alleage the saying of Salomon, in the xx chapter of his Prouerbs, There is much gold and store of pearles, but bookes of knowledge are the precious iewels. By knowledge, chambers are filled with all maner of costly and pleasant stuffe. And as he sayth in another place, [Page 165] The vvise m [...]n hath great might, and the man of knovvledge hath great strength. For by skill are vvarres made, and vvhere many be that can giue councell, there is victorie. Cicero in his oration for Archias saith, That learning is the teacher of ver­tue, a delighter and refresher of vs vvhen vve be at home a­lone in our ovvne houses, and a companion that cumbereth vs not vvhen vve goe abroad. It trauelleth vvith vs, it sleepeth vvith vs, it is an ornament vnto vs in prosperitie, and a helpe in aduersitie.

Many being in prison, many being in captiuitie to their e­nemies, many being in banishment, haue borne their misfor­tune vvell by means of learning. Diogenes was wont to say, That learning made yong men sober, comforted old men, en­riched poore men, and made rich men glorious, because lear­ning restraineth the slippernesse of youth, and supplieth the defects of old age. Aristotle saith, that the eies receiue light from the aire about them, The mind re­ceiueth light from lear­ning. and the mind from the liberall sci­ences; and that learning serueth for an ornament in prosperi­tie, and for a refuge in aduersitie. Aristippus was wont to say, There is as great difference betweene the learned and vnlear­ned, as is betweene the liuing and the dead. Send them both (quoth he) into a strange countrie, and you shall see what dif­ference there is. The which appeared well in Dennis, who of the king of Sicilie, became a schoolemaster at Corinth, and might haue starued for hunger, had it not bin for his learning. The foresaid Philosopher Aristippus was wont to say, That it was better to be a beggar than to be vnlearned; because the beggar hath no need but of mony, but the vnlearned hath need of humanitie; as who would say, that he which wan­ted knowledge was no man.

Socrates was wont to say, For the life of man lear­ning is better than riches. That for war, iron was better than gold; and that for the life of man, learning was better than ri­ches. At such time as Paulus Emileus was for to encounter with Perseus the last king of Macedonie, & that his armie was sore dismaid at the eclips of the moon which then happened; Sulpicius Gallus incouraged them by his learning, in that hee [Page 166] assured them of victorie by his knowledge in the Mathema­ticall sciences. By the like knowledge Archimedes defended the citie of Syracuse from the force of Marcellus. In this pro­cesse of learning, I will not omit Eloquence, Of Eloquence which the men of old time termed the Queene of men, as one which euen by force drue vnto her the affections of as many as shee spake vnto. Plutarch in the life of Pericles, saith that Eloquence is an Art that weeldeth mens minds at her pleasure, and that her cheefe cunning is, to know well how to mooue mens passions and affections to her lure, which are as you would say the Tunes and sounds of the soule, which is willing to be touched by the hand of a good musician. And albeit that a good natu­rall disposition be very requisit to haue the toung at comman­dement, yet will nature doe but small seruice, if it be not poli­shed by learning. On the contrary part, the man that is rude of speech by nature, may become eloquent and well spoken, in amending his euill disposition by learning. I meane not that he shal becom as good as Demosthenes, but that he may be able to make some breefe oration to the people, or to men of war, that shall be of force to persuade them, as the braue captains of old times did. Nestor is commended of Homer, not only for his good skill and counsell, but also for his Eloquence, saying that the words issued from his lips as sweet as honie. Notwithstanding that Pirrhus was one of the best captains of the world, Cyneas the ora­tor woon mo cities by his eloquence, th [...] is Pirrus did by the sword. yet would he say that Cyneas had woon him mo cities by his elo­quence, than he himselfe had done by the sword. Anon after the expulsing of the kings out of Rome, there fel such debate between the senators and the common-people, that the citie was like to haue gone to vtter ruine by it. But Agrippa pacified the whole matter by his eloquence, and brought the people backe to obedience, when they had alreadie banded them­selues in companies. Pisistratus handled the Athenians so cun­ningly with the finesse of his toung, that he made himself king of Athens. Such as were sent by Cinna to haue slaine Antonie the Orator, were so surprised with his eloquence, that when they heard him speake, they had no mind at all to kill him. [Page 167] The eloquence of Cicero caused the disanulling of the law for the diuiding of lands, whereof the people of Rome had con­ceiued so great liking, and which had bene so often propoun­ded; in so much that when they had heard him speake, they vtterly abolished it for euer: whereof Plinie maketh a won­der. The like grace of speech enforced Iulius Caesar to par­don Ligarius, whome he was resolutly determined to haue put to death.

To be short, it is a thing of so great power, that a prince who hath many vnder his charge, can in no wise forbeare it. And if he fortune not to be eloquent inough of himselfe, it would behoue him to haue some good orator about him, as Moses tooke Aaron to persuade the people, and to preach vnto them, because he found himselfe vnfit for that purpose. For it is to no purpose for a man to haue goodly conceits, vnlesse he put them forth. A man cannot vtter the ex­cellent cōceit [...] of his mind, if he want Elo­quence. For according to the saieng of Themistocles, E­loquence is like a peece of tapistrie wrought with figures and imagerie, which shew themselues when the cloth is vnfold [...]d and are hidden when it is lapped vp together: and euen so a man cannot shew the goodly conceits of his mind, vnlesse hee haue eloquence to vtter them. Cicero saiih in his Orator, that by the eloquence and persuasion of such as could handle their toungs well, the people that were scattered abroad in the wild fields and forrests, were first brought into cities and townes. It is of such force that it maketh the things to be beleeued that were incredible, and smootheth things that were vnpolished. And as the mind is the beautie of a man, so is Eloquence the beautifier of the mind. The same author in the second booke of the Nature of gods saith thus, A beautiful and diuine thing soothly is Eloquence, for it maketh vs to learne the things we know not and to teach the things we know; by it we persuade and comfort the sorrowfull, by it we encourage them that bee dismaied, by it we strike them dead that are too lustie, by it we pacifie the angrie, and kill folks lusts: that is it that hath drawne vs into fellowship, into societie, into cities, to liue ac­cording to equitie and law.

[Page 168] Of Experiēce.Yet is it not inough to haue learning and eloquence, vnlesse they bee also matched with experience. Bias in his lawes, would haue a Prince to be chosen of the age of fortie yeares, to the end he should gouerne well by good discretion and ex­perience. For it is well known, Cicero in his Duties. that neither Phisitions nor Ge­nerals of war, (be they neuer so well instructed with precepts) can well discharge their duties without experience. And (as the emperor Adrian was wont to say) in the generall ordering and managing of matters of State, Experience better than Learning▪ in matters of State. One yeares experience is better woorth than ten yeares learning. And for that cause he preferred Antonie to the Empire before Marcus Aurelius, as making more account of Antonies experience, than of Marks lerning.

Agamemnon desired not so much to haue learned and elo­quent men of his counsell, as to haue such as Nestor was, that is to say, men of great experience. Plutarke saieth that the wise and valeant captaine Philopemen, presuming that his skill which he had in ordering a battel vpon the land, would also serue him alike vpon the sea, learned to his cost, what sway experience beareth in matters of chiualrie, and how great aduantage they haue in all things which are well experienced. The skill how to gard and defend a mans selfe, is not learned (saieth Thucidi­des) by talking, but accustoming himselfe to pains-taking and to handling of his weapon. One asked Zeuxidamus, why the Lacedemonians had no lawes written: because (quoth he) they should rather enure themselues to the doing of noble and ho­norable things, than to read of them. Panthoidas said the same to the Anthenians, that asked him what he thought of the Phi­losophers, which had disputed before him; assuring them that they had spoken goodly things, but to themselues vnprofita­ble; whereby he meant to doe the Athenians to vnderstand, that they had vertue in their mouths, but not in their deeds. The knowledge that is gotten, Knowledge without Pra­ctise, is a body without a soule. serueth to the ordering of mens affairs; but if it be without practise, it is like a body without a soule. Very vnwise therfore was he, which by his sophistrie would haue made Iphicrates beleeue, that the Philosopher is [Page 169] the onely good captaine. And we may well say with Anaxip­pus, that such discoursers doe shew themselues wise in words, but in effect are starke fooles.

Now therefore we conclude with Aristotle, that such as will deale in matters of state, must aboue all things haue ex­perience, and this experience is gotten by practise and exer­cise, which is the perfecter of Learning. For we see that by ex­ercise a weake man becommeth strong, and doth better away with trauell, than he that being strong doth not vse exercise, as Socrates sayth in Xenophon. Againe, they that bee practised in all things, deeme truly of duties, and vnderstandeth what belongeth to euery man. And (as saith Musonius) Vertue is a science that consisteth not only in vnderstanding, but also in action. For euen as in Phisicke or Musicke it is not sufficient to be skilfull of the art, The skill of gouerning, consisteth more in pra­ctise than in speculation. but there must also be a practise of the actions that depend vpon the art and science: so in the science of Gouernment, a prince must be practised in that which con­cerneth action, rather than in that which concerneth contem­plation.

Can he thinke himselfe to be of good skil, which when he is to go in hand with his worke, findeth it cleane contrarie to his imagination? Surely (as Terence sayth) there was neuer yet any man so well aduised afore-hand in his determinations, whome age & experience haue not crossed with some strange encounter, so as he hath found himselfe to seeke in the things wherein he thought himselfe most skilfull: and when he came to the execution, hath reiected that which he thought to bee best afore he began to go in hand with it. And that is allego­rically the very tree of the knowledge of good and euill, after the opinion of S. Austen in his thirteenth booke of the citie of God. For in matter of State, It is dange­rous in mat­ters of state, to take white for blacke. it is very dangerous to take white for blacke, and to thinke a mans selfe to know that which hee knoweth not. Therefore it behooueth a prince to be a dealer in his owne affairs, and to exercise his mind at times in reading of bookes, without forgetting to exercise his body. He must so counterpeise his mind and his body, as the one be not exerci­sed [Page 170] without the other. And yet it is not inough for a prince to exercise himselfe, except he doe also make his subiects to be exercised, which thing he shall easily doe, if hee make often wagers with rewards, for shooting in guns, for running, for iu­sting, for fighting at the barriers, and so forth of other like ex­ercises, howbeit with least sumptuousnesse, and most profit. For nothing doth better acquaint men with feats of arms, Nothing doth beter acquaint men with se [...]ts of war, than the often pra­ctise of them. than the often exercise of them. Traian was not to learne in that art, for he entertained maisters of chiualrie at pensions, to teach young men the art of war; as to breake their horses, to han­dle their weapons, to shoote in crosse-bows, to skale walles, to make fireworks, to vndermine castels, to passe riuers in diuing, and to cast themselues cunningly in a square. To be short, hee gaue his people so much to doe, that they had no leisure to be idle, neither in time of peace, nor in time of warre. When his men of warre were most in peace, then did hee most exercise them in feats of warre, saying that for his so doing, strangers would stand in feare of him, when they saw him continually accompanied with men of experience in chiualrie. Hee made daily new tournies and iousts to exercise his men of arms, hee made forts, combats of ten to ten, runnings, wrestlings, and such other exercises: saying cōmonly, That it was no faire or com­mendable sight, to see a man either without a booke in his hand to learne wisdome, or without a weapon in his fist to de­fend himselfe against fooles and ignorant persons.

CHAP. III. Of Iustice, or Righteousnesse.

NOw remaineth to speake of the cheefe of the vertues, which containeth all vertues, namely of Righteousnesse; the which (as saith Cassio­dorus) causeth mans life to be contained within order of Law, and to be lead after another ma­ner [Page 171] than the brute beasts which liue at auenture; without the which, the excellencie of wit serueth to no purpose, whereas contrariwise, Righteousnesse may be without Wittinesse. And in comparing them, wee make more account of the duties of righteousnesse, which consist in action, and in the preseruation of mens welfare, than in the duties of wittinesse, which consist but in knowledge.

For it is a greater matter to doe a thing discreetly, It is more to doe a thing discreetly, th [...] to forecast it wisely. than but only to forecast it wisely. Plutarch in the life of Aristides, saith it is the vertue whereof the vse and exercise is most continual, and of whose doing most men doe ordinarily feele the force, making the life of them diuine and heauenly, which are pla­ced in degree of prosperitie, power and authoritie, the which by vnrighteousnesse is made sauage and beastly. The men of old time sayd that Iupiter himselfe could not well gouerne his kingdome without righteousnesse, according wherunto Dauid sayth, That the Lord loueth righteousnesse, and that his coun­tenance beholdeth the thing that is iust. And in another place he saieth, that he hath prepared his seate for righteousnesse and iudgement. And S. Paul in the first epistle to the Corin­thians saith, That God hath made our Lord Iesus Christ our righteousnesse, wisdome, holines, and redemption. Salomon saith in his Prouerbs, That a kings throne is vpheld by righte­ousnes. And Plutarke in the life of Demetrius saith, That no­thing is more fit and wel-beseeming for a prince, Noth [...]ng doth better beseem a prince, than to do iustice. than to doe right and to execute iustice, because Mar [...] (which betokeneth force) is a tyrant: but right and law (as saieth Pindarus) are queens of the whole world. And Homer saith, that kings and princes haue receiued in trust of Iupiter, the custodie and kee­ping, not of engins to ouerthrow cities and to destroy them, nor yet of shippes, fortresses, and armies; but of rightfull cu­stomes and holy lawes. For as Dauid sayth in the xxxiij psalme, God loueth aboue all things that right should reigne and iu­stice take place. Righteousnes containeth all vertues. Not without cause haue I said that righte­ousnesse containeth all vertues. For he that is righteous hath no need of any other thing, whether it bee wisedome, or [Page 172] valiantnesse, which is nothing without righteousnesse, as Age­silaus said. So that if we were throughly righteous, there nee­ded no force, for to what purpose should force serue, if righte­ousnesse were with vs, yeelding vnto euery man that which is his. Valeantnesse serueth to no purpose, where Righteousnes wanteth. And as Belisarius said in a certaine oration to his men of war, Valeancie standeth that man in no steed which wanteth righteousnes. As for Liberalitie, we shall find that it cannot be exercised without righteousnes. For whosoeuer giueth with­out aduisement and beyond his abilitie, to them that are vn­worthie, is not to be called liberall, but prodigall. Contrari­wise, he that recompenseth men of good seruice, valeant cap­teines, good iudges, and other men of good behauiour and ho­nestie, worthily and according to such abilitie as he hath, is ac­counted liberall; Whereby it appeareth, that he cannot exer­cise Liberalitie, without that kind of righteousnes which con­sisteth in distribution. If we intend to speake of Temperance, we shall find that it is vnited vnto righteousnesse, and that the Intemperate person which is subiect to his passions, cannot doe any thing aright, so long as he is intangled in that vice, as we read of Dauid and Achab, who leauing right and righteous­nes, caused Vrias and Naboth to be put to death; and so did infinit others, whome I omit for breifnesse sake. Insomuch that no man can be called a temperat or staied person, vnlesse he bee righteous. Aristides being asked what it was that men called Righteousnesse; To abstain (quoth he) from coueting that which is another mans: as who would say, he was of opini­on, that if couetousnesse bee put away, it is a verie easie mat­ter to doe well. S. Ierome saith, that righteousnesse is an equall distributing of all things, whereunto whosoeuer cleaueth, kee­peth vprightnes in euery thing. It knows what is due to God, to the saints, to his fellows and companions, to his neighbour, to himselfe, and to the stranger. For it is good right that a man should loue and worship God, honor his companions, pay tri­bute to Princes, abstaine from pride▪ be meeke and gentle, not hate strangers, no nor his enemies, but rather loue them, and submit himselfe to his superiours or elders. From thence sprin­geth [Page 173] mercie, and the seruice which we yeeld vnto God. Now then, Definitions of Righteousnes. Righteousnesse (according to Aristotle) is a vertue of the mind, which yeeldeth vnto euery man according to his deserts. Or else it is a certaine hauiour of the mind, which obserueth vprightnesse, and giueth to euery man that which to him belongeth. Or else, it is an affection of the mind which maketh vs apt to doe rightfull deeds, wherethrough we doe and be desirous to doe, that which is good and honest. For they that doe righteously by compulsion of law, cannot bee esteemed righteous therefore. The lawiers define Righte­ousnes, to be a constant and continual purpose, of yeelding vn­to euery man that which belongeth vnto him. Cicero saith it is an endowment of mind, which disposeth a man vnto eue­ry one according to his degree; so keeping and maintai­ning euery mans profit in peculiar, as may best stand with the conseruation of the whole. Men in old time said, that Righte­ousnesse was a goddesse, sitting at Iupiters seat. Hesiodus saith, she was borne of Iupiter, and Homer saith she was borne of all the gods.

To be short, all the Heathen said it was a Heauenly ver­tue; wherein they agree with this vvhich S. Peter saith in his second epistle, We looke for the new Earth, and new Hea­uens, wherein righteousnesse dwelleth. And as Plato saith in his Common-weale, G [...]d is the first author and be­ginner of righ­teousnesse. Righteousnesse is the greatest good thing, that euer God bestowed vpon vs, as whereof hee him­selfe is the very author and first ground; wherein he speaketh diuinely and agreeable to the commaundment of our Lord Ie­sus, who willeth vs to seeke the kingdome of God, & his righ­teousnes, because if we so do, we shall not want any thing. And Dauid counselleth vs to offer vnto him the sacrifice of Righ­teousnesse. S. Paul in the epistle to the Romans, opposeth vn­righteousnesse against righteousnesse; so as the contrarie to righteousnesse, is euill. For as sayth saint Ierome, vvriting to the daughter of Morris, Righteousnes sinneth not. Righteousnesse is nothing else but the eschewing of sinne, and the eschewing of sinne is the kee­ping of the commaundements of Gods law. And therefore [Page 174] Ecclesiasticus saith thus, Turne away from thine vnrighteous deeds, and turne againe vnto the Lord. And in the Prouerbs, Righteousnesse (saith Salomon) exalteth a whole nation, but sinne is a reproch vnto people. And in the fourteenth Psalme it is sayd, Thou hatest Vnrighteousnesse.

Now then, Righteousnesse is the vertue of the soule, and Vnrighteousnesse is the vice therof, & the procurer of death, And (as Philo saith) Vnrighteousnesse is the linage and off­spring of vice. And this vice bringeth with it paine and trauell, according to this saying of Dauid in the seuenth Psalme, Be­hold he trauelleth with vnrighteousnesse and wickednesse. Plato in his Common-wealth, Vnrighteou­nes is the soul [...] sinne. saith, that to order or dispose, to commaund, to counsell or aduise, & such other things, are pro­perties peculiar to the soule, so as an euill soule miscommaun­deth, misordereth, and miscouncelleth; and contrariwise, a good soule doth all things well which it doth. And like as a man is esteemed to be in health when his body is altogether disposed according to the order of nature; and contrariwise to be out of health, when the parts of his body be infected, and all goes contrarie to the order of nature: euen so to doe righ­teously, is nothing else but to keepe the parts of the soule in such order, as they may both commaund and obey, according to the true rule of Nature. The same author saith in his Pro­tagoras, That righteousnesse and holinesse are both one, Righteousnes and holinesse are both one. or at least wise they be vertues very like one another. In so much that, such as righteousnesse is, such also is holinesse; and such as holinesse is, such also is righteousnesse. And in his Theete­tus he sayth, That he which is the holiest amongst vs, is likest vnto God, accordingly as our Lord teacheth vs in his Euan­gelist Matthew, saieng Follow ye the example of your hea­uenly father. The duties of Righteousnes. The dutie of Righteousnesse is to liue honestly, without hurting any man, and (as sayth Iustinian) to yeeld to euery man that which belongeth vnto him. Cicero in his Du­ties setteth down two sorts therof, the fi [...]st is, that a mā should hurt no man, vnprouoked by iniurie and wrong first done vnto him, the which thing notwithstanding, is forbidden by God, as [Page 175] in respect of reuenge, & hath also ben put in practise by diuers heathen men. The second is, that we vse cōmon things as cō ­mon, and priuat things as priuat. But according to christianitie, Righteousnes consisteth in two precepts, wherof the first is, to loue God; and the second is to loue our neighbor: and on that dependeth al that is written in the law & the Prophets. In the first consisteth the diuine and cōtemplatiue righteousnes, and in the latter consisteth the distributiue righteousnesse. For it is not inough for a man to honour God, to feare him, and to ab­staine from euill, except he also doe good and be helpefull to his neighbour: and by the word Neighbor, I meane all men, specialy those that are good. The righteous stranger is to be preferred before the vn­righteous kinsman. For, as saith Pithagoras, we ought to esteeme more of a righteous stranger, than of a kinsman or countriman that is vnhonest. Which thing our Lord hath told vs more expresly, in saieng, He that doth the will of God, is my kinsman, my brother, and my mother. And also in another place by the parable of the Samaritan, that had shewed him­selfe to be the wounded Iewes neighbor in very deed, by set­ting him vpon his horse, and by hauing a speciall care of him, wherein he, and not the priests and Pharisies that made none account of the wounded man, had done the dutie of Righte­ousnesse. Wherby it appeareth, the righteous man takes pains rather for other men than for himselfe, and had leuer to forgo some part of his owne goods, than to diminish another mans. Now therefore, when men instruct the ignorant, releeue the poore, yeeld to their neighbors that which belongs vnto thē, by helping them with thing at their need; when the great personages oppres not their inferiors, nor the king his subiects, then may it be said that righteousnes raigneth in that coūtrie. And if euery man would liue after manner, there should need neither law nor magistrat. For as saith Menander, Their owne manners should be as lawes. But for as much as few men doe giue themselues to righteousnesse, there must of ne­cessitie be laws and magistrats to enforce such vnto righteous­nesse, as will not be righteous for loue: and to that end are kings and rulers ordained of God. For (as saint Paule sayth) [Page 176] the king is Gods lieutenant on earth, the maintainer of righ­teousnes, and as it were his chancelor: so as they which require iustice at his hand, resort not vnto him as to a man, but as to the very righteousnes it self, wherof he is the dealer forth, through the wil of God, according to this saieng of Salomō in the booke of Wisdome, By me kings reigne, and counsellors determine right; By me princes rule, and all lords iudge their lands. Not without cause therefore, did Homer call kings the disciples of Iupiter; as who would say, they learned of God to do iustice. Dauid vseth termes yet of more force, and calleth them, Gods which doe iustice; honoring them with the name of their charge, which is of God. And Philo calleth them Gods lieu­tenants and vicegerents, in cases concerning iustice. And in the 6 chapter of the booke of Wisdome, Vnto you kings do I speake (saith Salomon) harken vnto me ye gouernors of people, and you that glorie in the multitude of natiōs. For your autho­ritie is giuen you of the Lord, and your power cōmeth from the highest, who wil examin your works, and diligently search your thoughts: because you being ministers of his kingdome, haue not iudged vprightly, nor kept the law of righteousnes. Therefore will he appeare vnto you with terror, and that right soone. For a very sore iudgement shall be executed vpon them that haue ben in authoritie. And in Ieremie he sweareth that if princes execute not iustice, their houses shalbe left de­solate. Wherewith agreeth that which S. Remy said vnto king Clowis, Kingdoms shal continue so long as Righ­teousnes reigneth in them. namely that the kingdome of France should continue so long as iustice raigned there. Also Totilas king of the Goths said, that all kingdomes and empires were easily destroied, if they were not maintained by iustice; and that as long as the Goths delt iustly, their power was had in good reputation; but when they fell once to couetousnes, and to taking more than they ought to haue done, by and by they came to decay through their owne discord among themselues. A prince is called a liuing law on earth because that lawes speake not, A Prince is a liuing law. ne moue not; but a prince is as a liuely law, which speaketh and moueth from place to place, putting the law in execution, and [Page 177] appointing euery man what he should doe; and thereof it commeth that we be said to doe men right. Seeing then that a prince is the law, it followeth that he must be iust, and do iu­stice to his subiects; in doing wherof the world receiueth ve­ry great good. And as Aristotle saith in his mattets of state, the iustice of the prince that raigneth, is more profitable to his subiects than riches are. S. Ciprian in his treatise of twelue abuses, saith, that the iustice of a king is the peace of his people, the safegard of innocents, the defence of his country, the foy­zon of his hand, the reliefe of the poore, and the hope of bles­sednesse to come to himselfe. Salomon in the 20 of his prouerbs saith, That a king sitting on his iudgement seat, disperseth all iniquitie with his looke. Hereby is nothing els meant, but that he driueth away all naughtinesse by his only shewing of him­selfe to his people, & by bearing a good countenance. Howbe­it, the meaneth it of a good prince, & such a one as is an execu­ter of iustice, for such a one maketh the wicked to quake euen with his only look; & although this vertue ought to be chiefly and principally appropried to princes, because kingdomes without iustice are but maintenāces of mischiefe, according to S. Austines saying in his ninth booke of the citie of God, Iustice is needfull for all sorts of men. yet­notwithstanding it faileth not to be behooffull for all sorts of men, yea euen for solitarie men (as saith Cicero) and for such as neuer goe abroad, as well as for them that buy and sell, bar­gaine and couenant, which things cannot be done without vp­rightnesse, the force wherof is such, that euen they that liue of robbery and leaudnesse, cannot continue without it, in that it assureth the goods of the robbers vnto them. In ci­ties iustice procureth peace and equitie. For (as saith Dauid) Righteousnes and peace imbrace one another. In priuat hou­ses it maintaineth mutuall loue & concord betweene the man and wife, good will of the seruants toward their master & mi­stresse, & good vsage of the master towards his seruants. Aga­thias said, Iustice ma­keth a happie Common­weale. that the Frēchmen became great, by being iust, vp­right and charitable. For iustice and charitie make a cōmon­weale happie, stable, long lasting, and hard to be surprised by [Page 178] enemies; whereas a man may reckon vp a great sort, that haue bin ouerthrowne by vniustice. Of iustice or righteousnes are two sorts, the one of the law, and the other of equalitie. That of the law, is the more vniuersal, as which comprehendeth al sorts of vertue, and is that which in our English toung we pro­perly call Righteousnesse. For he that performeth the com­maundements of the law, is Righteous because he doth al the vertuous things commaunded in Gods law, so as he is liberall, lowly, modest, kind-hearted, meeke, peaceable, and so forth. When I say that a man is righteous, I meane not that he is righteous before God, otherwise than by grace, and not by the law as S Paule teacheth vs in his epistles to the Romans and the Galathians, saieng, By the law shall no man be found righ­teous. For the blessed [...]ife consisteth in the forgiuenes of sinnes, as Dauid declareth in the one and thirtith Psalme. And ther­fore what good so euer we doe, our Lord will haue vs to ac­count our selues vnprofitable seruants. The other sort of righ­teousnes is of equalitie, and consisteth in dealing vprightly, and in yeelding euery man that which belongeth vnto him, the which in English we terme properly Vprightnes and Iust dea­ling. And this kind of righteousnes is diuided againe into o­ther two sorts, A subdiuision of Righteous­nesse. whereof the one concerneth distributing, and the other concerneth exchange. This which cōsisteth in mat­ters of exchange, serueth to make equalitie where vnequalitie seemeth to be, and is occupied about buieng, selling, bartering, and bargaining betweene man and man. For we see that one man hath monie, that another man wanteth, who hath corne and wine: here doth this kind of righteousnes procure an e­qualitie. For the monied man giuing his monie, receiueth corn for it, that he wanted; and the other giuing corne & wine, ha­uing more than he needed, receiueth monie, where of he had want. Therfore when lending, buieng, intercōmoning, hiring, morgaging, & such other things, proceed duly without fraud: then is a realme seene to prosper, because right reigneth there. The like wherof we see in our bodies, the eye by the sight of it, directeth our steps, but cannot go it selfe: the foot is able to [Page 179] go, but it cannot see, so as it carrieth the eye, and the eye gui­deth it. The hand wipeth the eye clean, and the eye directeth it; the feet beare vp the head, and the head ruleth them; and without that, the body could not continue. Euen so the body of a common-weale could not endure, if euery man should not succour one another by such interchange. The distributiue iu­stice which the king vseth toward his subiects, cōsisteth chief­ly in distributing honor and promotion vnto thē, according to euery mans desert. Semblably in our bodies there reigneth a kind of iustice, as for example, we see how the heart giues life and mouing to al the members, at leastwise according to most philosophers, who hold opinion that the beginning of life and mouing is in the heart, and likewise that sence is in the braine. Wherefore it is requisit that as the heart for his excellencie, reigneth as king ouer all the other members, so he that is most excellent of al other men, should haue the prerogatiue to cō ­maund others, & that if he bee borne to haue gouernment, he should make himselfe worthie of that charge. For as Cicero saith in his Duties, Those that at the first were chosen to bear rule, were such as the people had great good opiniō of. Others (of whom Francis Petrarch is one) diuide Righteousnes into 4 sorts, Another di­uision of Righteousnes namely Diuine (which is sister to Wisdom) wherthrough we beleeue in God, and acknowledge him to be the creator of al things, without whom, we cannot do any thing. It is he that directeth our footsteps in the right path▪ & is so gracious vnto vs by the intercession of his welbeloued son, that for his sake our sins are not imputed to vs. Wherfore this vertue consisteth in praising God, in worshipping him, in giuing him thankes, in obeieng him, and in doing his cōmandements. For Gods com­mandements and testimonies, are righteousnes & truth (saith Dauid, in the 119 Psalme) and they doe bring vs forth humili­tie, patience, innocencie, trustinesse, and all manner of vertues. Another sort of Righteousnes is called naturall, because it is bor [...]e with vs; as for example, to honour and serue our fa­ther [...]s & mothers, to cherish our children, & to do good to thē that doe good to vs, are properties of nature, and whosoeuer [Page 180] doth otherwise, is esteemed an vnkind monster. For as saith Cassiodorus, Euen they that are ignorant of law, do neuerthe­lesse acknowledge reason and truth, because that so to doe, is not peculiar to man only, but also is cōmon to the brute beasts, to whom nature hath giuen such inclination. For we see that all kinds of beasts do cherish their yong ones, wherto they be led and taught by nature, and therfore the lawyers call it the Law of nature. The Storke cherisheth his syre and his dam, when they be old, and therfore the acknowledging & recom­pencing of kindnesse with like kindnesse againe, is called in greeke Autipelargia, as ye would say, A Counterstorking. The brute beast knoweth him that feedeth him, and is mindful of him that doth him good: as appeareth by a certain lion, which could well skill to requite the pleasure that a slaue had done him, in taking a thorne out of his foot. For he fed the slaue a long time in the caue where he had hidden himselfe, & after­ward when both of them were by chance taken and carried to Rome, and the slaue being condemned to death for rob­bing his master, was cast vnto the lions to be deuoured by them; this lion being there among the rest, & knowing him, saued him and defended him from hurt, & yet the time was past long afore, that the slaue had done him the said pleasure. Now then it is a naturall thing to do good to them that do vs good. The third kind of righteousnesse is that which we call ciuill, which consisteth in yeelding vnto euery man that which belōgeth vnto him, in gouerning cities and countries, in main­taining cōmon society, & in such like things. The fourth is cal­led Iudiciall, which belongeth to those that haue charge to iudge of controuersies betweene parties according to lawes. For the maintaining of these lattertwaine, it behoueth to haue magistrats: and therfore they belōg properly to princes, kings & soueraign magistrats, & may be reduced both into one, con­sidering that iudges do but supply the roomes of their soue­raigns. Also the law which serueth for the executing of iu­stice, in giuing vnto euery man that which is his right, is called of the lawyers, the Ciuil Law, and not the Iudiciall Law.

[Page 181]By these diuisions a man may see what the dutie of a prince is in case of iustice; for the worthy executing wherof, he must aboue al things be religious and feare God, as I haue said afore, and therefore I will speake no more thereof. Also I will omit the naturall Righteousnes, because it is common to all liuing creatures, but the ciuill and iudicial Righteousnes is peculiar to kings and gouernours of countries, and consisteth, first in well keeping the lawes of their countries, and in causing them to be well kept, secondly in taking good order in cases of controuer­sie and strife between partie and partie, by themselues in their owne persons, or by chusing fit persons to doe iustice. Thirdly in doing right to the iudges themselues, and to the other offi­cers whom the prince hath set in authoritie; namely in ho­noring and rewarding them according to their deserts, and likewise in punnishing them for their misdoings: and lastly, in doing iustice among their men of warre. As touching the first point, which concerneth the maintaining of the written lawes, it is so necessarie, The maiestie of a kingdom dependeth vpon lawes. that it may well be said that the honor of a countrie dependeth therevpon, according to the wise answere of Pittacus, who being demaunded of Craesu [...] king of Lidia, wherin consisted the honor and maiestie of a kingdome? an­swered, Vpon a little peece of wood; meaning the laws writ­ten in tables of wood: as who would say, that where law hath his force and strength, there the realme florisheth. For the law is the stickler betweene right and vnright, punishing the bad, and defending the good, saith Cicero in his xij booke of Laws. And Plato saith in his common-weale, The law ought to rule the magistrats. that that common-weale goes vtterly to wrecke, where the law ouer-ruleth not the magistrats, but the magistrats ouer-rule the law. On the cōtrarie part, al goeth well where the law ouerruleth the ma­gistrats, and the magistrats are obedient to law. It belongeth to magistrats to keepe the lawes, and to beare in mind, that the lawes be committed to their custodie, saith Cicero in his books of duties. Aristotle saith in his matters of state, that they which would haue law to reigne in a citie or common-weale, would haue God to reigne there. Aliamenes being asked why he [Page 182] would not receiue the presents of the Messenians, Because that if I should haue receiued them (quoth he) I could not haue had peace with the lawes. For to say truth, the lawes are as the pillers of a state, vpholding it as pillers vphold a house, so as the casting down of them, is the ouerthrow of the house. Wherefore men ought to take good heed how they breake lawes, Lawes must not be bro­ken. which hold one another together like the links of a chaine. For by vndoing one, all the rest follow after. And euen so befalleth it in lawes, when men fal to dispensing with them. Not without good cause therefore did Adrian the emperour ordaine, that no man should bring vp any straunge custome in Rome. And as Plutarch reporteth in the life of Paulus Aemi­lius, men forsake the keeping of the chiefe foundations of the state of a publick-weale, when they refuse the care of the di­ligent keeping of the ordinances thereof, be they neuer so lit­tle and small. And Plato in his common-weale, forbiddeth the chaunging of any thing, yea euen of so much as the plaies that young children are wont to vse; because the chaunging of them, changeth the manners of youth without feeling, and maketh folke to make no account of antient things, and to co­uet and esteeme of new things; a matter very dangerous to a­ny state. And anon after he saith againe in these expresse words, I tell you that all manner of alteration, except it be in euill things, is very dangerous, both in diet of the body, and in manners of the mind. And I see not but that the yoong folke which are permitted to haue other plaies, games and pastimes than haue bene accustomed aforetimes, will also differ in be­hauior from the youth of old times, and being come to such difference, they will also seeke a differing kind of life, and by that means desire new lawes, and set their minds vpon all ma­ner of innouations. Sauly king of Scythia did put Anacharsis to death, for offering sacrifice to Berecinthia, the mother of the gods, after the maner of the Greeks. Also Scylus king of Scy­thia, because he wore apparell after the Greeke fashion, & sa­crificed secretly after the maner of Greece, as soone as he was discouered, was deposed for so doing, and in the end being ta­ken [Page 183] in battell, had his head struck off, and his brother Octumu­sades was set vp in his place: so greatly hated they strange fa­shions, and feared in any case to alter their old customs. Now if Plato was afraid of alteration in so small things: what shall we say to such princes as daily do abrogat laws for their friends and seruants sakes, & for their owne peculiar profit or pleasure make no reckoning of the vpholding and maintaining of thē? Agesilaus being otherwise a good prince and a seuere obseruer of the laws of his countrie, was worthily blamed for fauouring his friends in cases of iustice. For he said that the obseruing of the rigor of iustice, in matters where friends were to bee tou­ched, was but a cloke wherwith to couer such as lifted not to do their friends good. The inconue­nience that in­sueth of doing wrong. And in very deed he acquitted Phebidas who had taken the suburbs of Thebes, and Sphodrias who wēt about to haue taken the hauen of Pyrey by stealth, at such time as they were at peace with the Athenians. By which vn­iust dealing of his, the state of the Lacedemonians was ouer­thrown. So was the citie of Rome also sacked by the Gauls, for that the Romans did thē not iustice, nor made thē reasonable amends, for the wrong that had bin done to them by Quintus Fabius Ambustus. Pompey was misliked of many good men, and ill spoken of on their behalfe, because hee himselfe hauing by decree forbidden the open commending of such as were accu­sed by order of law, so long as their case depended in triall, en­tered one day into the court, & commended Plancus that had bin accused. Insomuch that Cato being one of the iudges, stopt his ears with both his hands, saieng it was not lawful for him to heare an accused person commended, seeing it was forbidden by the laws. How much more wisely dealt the king of Locres, who hauing made a law that adulterers should haue their eies put out, and finding his own son to haue transgressed the law, would not suffer him to be dispensed with, but in the end whē he was vrged by his people to pardō the offence, which thing of himselfe he would not graunt; yet somwhat to satisfie their request, and withall to keepe the law also, he caused one of his owne eies, and another of his sonnes eies to be put out.

[Page 184] Plutarch sayth in the life of Aristides, that whensoeuer the case concerned iustice, friendship could beare no sway with A­ristides, no not euen for his friends, nor enmitie prouoke him a­gainst his enemies. For law ought to bee ministred vprightly, and neuer to be broken, vnlesse necessitie (which is without law) enforce thereto. And yet euen then also, it ought to bee done so discreetly, as it may not seeme to be touched: accor­dingly as the Lacedemonians did, who when they had lost a great battell, brake the law of Lycurgus, in not punishing them with a kind of infamie worse than death, that had fled from the field, because that if they should so haue punished them, they should haue had but few left to defend their countrie. And yet notwithstanding to the end they might not seeme to despise their lawes, what need soeuer constrained them: Age­silaus not intending to doe it directly, made proclamation that the law of Lycurgus should take no place, vntill the next mor­row; and in the meane while that present day he inrolled the fugitiues againe to the defence of their countrie. But in Rome, where there was no scarcitie of men, they made so small ac­count of them, that euen after the battell of Cannas, they would not ransome 8000 men, whome Hannibal had put to their ransome.

The foresayd Lacedemonians being requested by Cirus king of Persia and other their confederats, to send them Li­sander to be admirall of their fleet, if they intended the well proceeding of their affairs, because they should doe all things with the better courage vnder his gouernance; refused to giue Lisander the title of Admirall, & giuing it vnto another, made him cheefe ouerseer of the sea-matters, taking from him but only the name, and giuing him in effect the whole authoritie in all things.

Artaxerxes surnamed the Long-hand, king of Persia, being a meeld and gracious prince, although he thought the law of his predecessors to be ouer-rigorous, that punished such with whipping and with death as had lost a battel, whether it were through their owne default or no; yet neuerthelesse would [Page 185] not breake it directly, but ordained that the offender should be stripped, and that his clothes should bee scourged with rods, in steed of his backe, and that his hat should be striken off in steed of the striking off his head. The Thebans were yet more rigorous, howbeit that in the end they dispensed with the law. For when Epaminondas had fortunately begun warres against the Lacedemonians, and saw that he could not other­wise bring them to end, because that by the law he was to giue ouer his charge, by reason that the time of his commission was expired: he so dealt with his fellow-commissioners, that con­trarie to the law, he made them presume to continue in office yet foure months longer; within which time the Lacedemo­nians were vtterly vanquished and ouerthrowne. And when Epaminondas was areigned for transgressing the law, & for ma­king his fellow-cōmissioners to transgresse it likewise; he con­fessed himself to haue deserued death for disobaieng the law, praying the Thebans that in recompence of all the seruices that he had done to them, they would after his death let write vpon his tombe, That Epaminondas had ben put to death, for compelling the Thebanes to vanquish the Lacedemonians, whom afore that day, they neuer durst looke vpon in the face. By which meanes, he not only procured the sauing of his life, but also the accepting in good woorth, of all the things that he had done. Marius vsed the like presuming beyond the law in in his iornie against the Cimbrians, where he made a thousand strangers freedenisons of Rome, for their valiant behauiour in that battell. And when he was accused thereof to the senat, he made answer, that by reason of the great noise of the battel, he could not heare what the lawes cōmaunded or prohibited. Wherein Marius could not be deemed to haue done well. For although it was a point of iustice to reward good and valeant men: yet ought it not to haue bene done with the ouerthrow of law, as it was then done by him, not of any necessitie, but ra­ther to haue the men of war at his deuotion, than for any good to the common-weale, as he shewed anon after in the warres that he had against Silla. Augustus made great Augustus made account of the Priuiledge of Freedeniship. But Agustus would rather haue priui­ledged [Page 186] men from paying of subsidies, & discharged thē of tal­lages, than to haue made thē free of the citty of Rome: for he could not abide that the right of citizenship, should be brought in smal estimation, by becōming too common. Neither ought the changing of lawes to be excused by this saying of Plato, In what cases lawes may be corrected. That at the first making of lawes, there may be some things, which the magistrats that succeede afterward may well a­mend; vntill that by good aduisement and experience, they see what is best to be allowed. And in another place he saith a­gaine, it is not men, but fortune and the enterchange of things, that make lawes. For either nessessitie, or force and violence of war, subuert states and alter lawes; so likewise plagues, tem­pests, sicknesses, and incōmodities of many years continuance, do cause very great changes and alterations. For no doubt but the thing which is set downe for a law, is to be debated long time, & to be altered, if ther by any incōuenience therin; as the citisens of Locres did, who admitted men to deuise new laws, howbeit with halters about their necks, to be hanged for their labour, if their lawes were found to be euill. But when a law is once alowed by long experience and custome, it is not in any wife to be chaunged, but vpon extreame necessitie, which is a­boue all law. Also it is certaine, that many new lawes are to be made vpon the alteration of a state. Lawes once stablished ought not to be alt [...]red. But when the lawes are once stablished with the state, they cannot be altered without iniurie to the state, exept it be vpon very vrgent and needfull cause. For the politik laws that are made for the mainteinance of a state, tend not to any other end, (saith Plato) than to rule and commaund, Law must cō ­maund and not obay. and not to be subiect. As for the lawes of na­ture, they ought to be kept most streightly. For (as Iustinian saith) forasmuch as the law of nature is giuen vs by the proui­dence of God, it ought to abide firme and vnmutable. But the politicall law is to be chaunged oftentimes, as we shall shew hereafter. And because that among men there be some mon­sters, that is to say, men that sin against nature, and make warre against it: it is meet that the soueraigne magistrat, which is set in that dignitie of purpose to encounter against monsters, as [Page 187] Hercules did, and to defend the poore from the violence of the greater sort, should cause an equalitie of iustice to be obserued among his subiects. For when the poore is oppressed by the rich, it is wrong; of the which wrong proceedeth discontent­mēt, which oftentimes breeds a hatred towards the prince, and finally a rebelling against him. How to raign in safety. Wisely therefore did Theopom­pus answer, to one that demaunded of him by what meanes a prince might liue in suertie; by suffering his friends (quoth he) to doe al things that are reasonable, Princes oue [...] ­throwne for suffering their subiects to be wronged. taking heed therewithall, that his subiects be not misused, nor wronged. For many princes haue bin ouerthrowne for suffering their seruants to do all ma­ner of wrongs and iniuries; whereof we haue a notable exam­ple in Philip king of Macedonie, who was slaine by Pausanias, for refusing to heare his complaint, and to doe him iustice a­gainst one that had committed a rape vpon him. For the ve­ry dutie of a prince, consisteth in doing iustice. For as Cicero saith in his books of Duties, the first chusing of kings, was for the estimation which men had of them, that they were good and iust men; such as by defending the poore from the rich, and the weake from the mightie, would hold them both in concord and quietnes. Folke giue greater credit and authori­tie to good Iusticers, than to any others. Plutarke in the life of Cato, saith that folke giue greater credit and authoritie to good iusticers, than to any others. For they not only honour them as they doe the valeant, ne haue them in admiration as they haue the sage and wise; but they doe also loue them, and put their trust and con­fidence in them; whereas of them that be not such, they di­strust the one sort, and feare the other. Moreouer they be of opinion, that valeantnesse and wisdome come rather of nature than of good will, persuading themselues, that the one is but a quicknes and finesse of wit, and the other but a certaine stout­nesse of heart that commeth of nature; wheras eueryman may be iust, at leastwise if he will. Two precepts for gouer­nors. Wherefore they that will gouern well (saith Cicero) must obserue two precepts of Platos: wherof the one is, to haue good regard of the welfare of their subiects, imploying all their deuises and doings to that end, and leauing their owne peculiar profit in respect of that: and the other is [Page 188] to haue such a care of the whole body of the common-weale, that in defending any one part therof, the residue be not neg­lected. For like as a tutorship, so the charge of a kingdome, is to be administred to the benefit of those that are vnder the charge, and not of them that haue the charge. And they that are carefull of one part, and carelesse of another, doe bring se­dition, quarelling and discord into the kingdome or common-weale; which is the ruine of realmes and common-weales. Wherfore the dutie of a good king, is not only to doe no wrong to his subiects himselfe, but also to restrain others from doing them wrong, and to straine himselfe to the vttermost of his power, to do right either in his own person, or by his substituts, to such as seeke iustice at his hand. For the greatest good that can be done to any people, is to doe them right, and to punish such as doe them wrong. And in that case the king must be like vnto the law, which accepteth no person, ne punisheth for displeasure, but iudgeth according to right: euen so, princes must not suffer themselues to be caried away with fauor, ha­tred, or anger; but must minister iustice indifferently to al men. But oftentimes they ouershoot themselues, The prince ought to mini­ster iustice vn­to all men in­differently. and step aside from the path of iustice to pleasure their courtiers; not consi­dering, that their so doing breedeth to themselues great dis­honor, and in their people great discontentment. Aristides would neuer make aliance with any man in administring the common-weale, because he would not doe wrong vnto any man, at the pleasure of those to whom he were alied, nor yet greeue them by refusing any thing that they might require at his hand. Cato of Vtica was so seuere a iusticer, that he swarued not any way for any fauor or pitie; insomuch that sometimes he would speake against Pompey, as well as with him. And when Pompey thanked him for that which he had done for him; he told him that in any good cause he wold be his freind, and not otherwise. Philip was desired by one Harpalus, one in greatest fauour with him, to call before him a certaine case, to the intent that his kinsman, for whom he made the sute, might not be diffamed. To whom Philip made this answer or the [Page 189] like, It is better that thy kinsman should be diffamed, than that I should be dishonered for his sake. Rutilius made an answere to a freind of his, as worthy to be remembred as this of king Philips. For when his freind being denied a certaine thing that was vniust, asked him whereto his freindship serued him, if he would not graunt his demaund; nay (quoth Rutilius) what a­uaileth me your friendship, if I must do for you the thing that is vnhonest? Antiochus gaue charge to the cities that were sub­iect vnto him, that if he commaunded them any vniust or vn­lawfull thing, they should not obey it, but should take it as though the letters were written without his priuitie. The notable answer of king Agis. Agis king of Sparta being desired of his father & mother, to doe a thing that was vniust, for their sakes: answered them on this maner, While I was vnder your gouernment, I obaied you as I ought to doe, and did whatsoeuer ye commaunded me, as not kno­wing what was right or wrong. But now that you haue deli­uered me to the seruice of my country, and taught me the laws therof, I will doe my indeuorto obay the same: and for as much as your will hath alwaies bin, to set me to the doing of things good and reasonabe, I will doe according to your will, and not according to your request. The answer of Themistocles. Themistocles being desired by the Poet Simonides, to help him in a wrongfull matter; answered him, that neither he should play the good Poet, if he made not his verses in due measure, nor himselfe the good prince, if he should deale against law. Athen [...]dor being condemned in a certaine fine by the Athenians, The answer of Alexander. praied Alexander to write vnto them for the release of his fine: the which thing Alexander refusing to doe, sent them the monie that he was set at, and so paid the fine of his own purse. Caricles the son in law of Phociō, being indicted for taking a bribe of Harpalus, praied Phocion to assist him at his iudgement; The saieng of Phocion. but Phocion refused him, saying, I haue taken thee, Caricles, to be my son in law, howbeit but in al iust and honest cases only. The iudgemēt of Marius. Trebonius being accused before Ma­rius, then consul and generall of the Roman host, for killing one Caius Lusius a nephew of the said Marius, and finding no man that durst defend his cause, did plead his case himselfe, [Page 190] and proued before Marius, that his killing of his nephew Lusi­us was of necessitie, because his nephew would else haue for­ced him. Wherupon Marius commending him for his labour, commaunded such a garlond to be brought vnto him out of hand, as was wont to be giuen to those that had shewed proofe of some notable valeancie in battell, and crowned him there­with as one that had done a very valeant and vertuous deed. And Plutarch saith, that the report of this iudgement in Rome, stoode Marius in great stead towards the obtainment of his third consulship.

The iust dea­ling of king Totilas. Totilas king of the Goths, being importunatly sued vnto by all the captaines of his host to pardon a very valeant man that had rauished a maide; said vnto them, that wheras at o­ther times they being out of all comparison far stronger than the Romanes, had neuerthelesse gone alway by the worse, because they had not done good iustice: seeing that God now putting their offences out of his remembrance, did giue them prosperitie and make them to atchieue things that surpassed their force, it were better for them to hold still the cause of their victories by executing iustice, than to procure their owne decay by doing wrong. The conuer­sation of life carrieth the fortune of sight. For it was not possible that the man which hath committed rape, or done any other wrong, should behaue himselfe well in battell, forasmuch as euery mans good or bad fortune in fight, dependeth vpon the good or bad conuersation of his life. Wherupon the man was punished with death, and his goods were giuen to the maid.

The princely dealing of k [...]ng Artaxe [...] ­xes. Satibarzanes, chiefe gentleman of king Ataxerxes priuie chamber, sued vnto him for one, in a thing that was scarse iust; for the obtainment wherof he was promised thirty thousand dariks. Wherof the king being aduertised, gaue him the full sum of mony that had bin promised him, and said vnto him, Take this Satibarzanes, for I shall neuer be poore for it, but had I done as thou wouldest haue had me to doe, I should haue beene vniust. And so he neither disappointed his friend, nor yet did any vniustice: The coue­ [...]sn [...]sse of Vespas [...]an. whereby he passed the emperour Vespasian in bounty and liberalitie. This Velpasian was a good [Page 191] emperour in many things, but his vertues were blemished and darkned with the vice of couetousnes. For he was so far in loue with mony, that he made great hoords of it, by taking great tributs of the Dacians, by sales of things, & by other exactions. Vpon a time a certaine courtier sued earnestly vnto him, for the gift of an office of great value; pretending that he sought it for a brother of his. But Vespasian doubting that he sought it for himselfe, delt in such wise that he discouered the truth, wherupō causing the party to come to him, that had promised his courtier the mony, he sold the office vnto him, & took the mony to himselfe. Within a while after, the courtier becomes a suter again to the emperor for his brother: and the emperor sends him againe to seeke another brother, for the partie for whome thou suest (qd. the emperor) is my brother; an answer as merry conceited as full of couetousnes. Offēces must not be left vn­punished. To come againe to our matter, a prince must not do against right, nor suffer faults to escape vnpunished, neither for fauor nor friendship. For hee that scapes vnpunished for his offence, is alwaies the readier to do euill, because his nonpunishment prouoketh him therunto. And for that cause Ca [...]o said, He had leuer to be vnrewarded for his doing good, Priuat harms are dāgerous to the publik state. than to be vnpunished for doing euil. Also he was wont to say, That a wrong done to another man priuatly, is dangerous to all men generally, because no man can be in safety among the wicked, if they may doe euill without reproofe. Impunitie of vice is dan­gerfull to a whole state. And as Antisthenes was woont to say, That common-weale is in great perrill, where is no difference betwixt good men and bad; meaning therby that the state of a kingdome or common-weale cannot stand where vertue is not honoured and recompenced, and vice punished. For this cause God commanded Moses to take away euill from among the people; that is to say, to punish euill in particular persons, for feare least folke should pay the deerer for the folly, and that he should make the multitude to beare the punishment due to some particular person, To let sin goe vnpunished, is a consenting vnto it. because it is a kind of con­senting to the sin, when it is willingly permitted to goe vnpu­nished. I know well it will be said, that a prince ought to [Page 192] be mercifull, It is no mercy to pardon the faults that are committed a­gainst other men. and I deny it not. But this mercie consisteth in pardoning the offences that concern but the prince himselfe, and the partie that is hurt by them, and not any other mens that are done against the common-weale; as king Lewis the twelfth answered both Christianly and vertuously, vnto one that whetted him to be reuenged of a certain wrong that had bin done vnto him when he was duke of Orleans; It besemeth not a king of France (quoth he) to be auenged of iniuries done to a duke of Orleance.

Infinitly was Iulius Caesar commended for his clemency, and that of good right: For he did easily forgiue the offences that were committed against himselfe. And Antonine was woont to say, That there was not any thing which procured greater estimation to an emperour among strangers, than cle­mencie did. And (as saith Statius) it is an honourable thing to giue life to him that craueth it. Neuerthelesse there is great difference between the pardoning of offences done to a mans own selfe, and the pardoning of offences done to other men. For it is not in you to forgiue the offences which are done a­gainst other men, In what sort a prince should be gracious. neither ought they to be forgiuen by any o­ther than by such as are hurt by them; neither can they also doe it to the preiudice of the common weale. And therfore a prince cannot with a safe conscience giue pardon to murde­rers, nor forgiue the offences of wicked persons, to purchase himselfe the renowne of gracious and merciful. Mercy to the wicked is cru­el [...]ie to the good. For fauor and mercy graunted to naughty-packs, is nought else but crueltie towards good men, as Arc [...]idamidas was wont to say. And therefore Cato said, that those also which restrained not the wicked from euill doing, Princes may not at their pleasure make la [...]ish of that which belon­ged t [...] God. Philo in his treatise con­cerning Iud­ges. if they might, were to be punished, because he accounted it as a prouocatiō to do euill. Wherfore whatsoeuer is done against the law, ought to be punished by the law, the which hath no respect of seruant, friend, or kins­man. Of which law the prince is the executor, and is nothing else but a liuing law, or rather the deputie or lieutenant of God the iust iudge. Now it is not lawful for the deputie or vn­der-agent of God, to be lauish at his pleasure, of that which [Page 193] belongeth to God, because he hath not receiued it of him o­therwise, than in custody, and vpon account; and therfore he is not to bestow it vpon any man, for friendships sake, or for pitie.

Therupon it came that the Thebans, to shew what iustice is, did paint in their courts, the images of iudges without hāds, and the images of princes without eyes: to shew that in Iudg­ment kings ought not to be surprised with any affection, nor iudges carried with any couetousnes. Of iustice in cases of trea­son and re­bellion. And although it be not lawfull for a Prince, to be iudge in his owne cause, for the a­uoiding of all passions: yet is he not forfended, to punnish the wrong that is offred him in cases of treason and rebellion: but rather on the contrarie part, it is a point of iustice to punish re­bels, as procurers of trouble to the state. The emperor Maxi­milian, espieng in a certaine vprore that was in his campe, how a souldier strake vp a drum without commaundement, of his captaine, slew him with his own hand, because the danger of his host being on a rore, required the remedie of speedie and present crueltie.

Neuerthelesse such manner of dealing is to be done with great discretion; for sometimes things may happen to bee in such case, that dissimulation shall auaile more than punishmēt, as it did with Pompey after the death of Sertorius. For when Perpenna had sent him a cofer full of letters, of Romanes that had written to Sertorius, and had held on his side: hee would not looke vpon any of them, but cast them all into a fire, The want of discretion in extinguishing one faction, may breed many m [...]. for doubt least for one Sertorius, then dead, there should step vp twentie others at Rome, when they perceiued them­selues to be discouered: because it falleth often out, that when a man thinketh to ouerthrow one faction, he multiplieth the number of his enemies. And as Fabius Maximus was woont to say, It is better to hold such folke in suspence by gentle and kind dealing, than seuerely by rigor to seeke our all suspi­cions, or to deale too sharpely towards such as are to be su­spected.

In the citie of Athens there happened a conspiracie of certaine noble men against the state, who had determined [Page 194] that if they could not compasse their purpose of themselues, they would cal in the Persians to their helpe. As these things were a brewing in the campe, and many mo besides were guil­tie of the conspiracie, Aristides feeling the sent thereof, stood in great feare by reason of the time. For the matter was of too great importance, to be passed ouer without care: and there was no lesse danger in ripping vp the matter to the quicke, for as much as he knew not how many might be found guiltie of the crime. Therefore of a very great number, he caused but only eight to be apprehended; and of those eight, two that were to be most deepely charged fled out of the campe, and the other six he set againe at libertie. Whereby he gaue occa­sion to such as thought not themselues to bee discouered, to assure themselues of safetie and to repent them of their wic­ked purpose: saieng that for iudgement they should haue bat­tell, whereby they might iustifie themselues.

The policie of Agesilaus.At such time as Epaminondas came to besiege Lacedemon, there were about two hundred of a conspiracie within the ci­tie, which had taken one of the quarters of the towne very strongly scituated, wherein was the temple of Diana. The La­cedemonians would haue run vpō them out of hand in a rage; But Agesilaus fearing least it might be a cause of some further great alteration, commaunded all his company to keepe their places, and hee himselfe vnarmed went vnto the rebels, and cried vnto them, Sirs ye haue mistaken my commaundment, for this is not the place where I appointed you to meet in, but my meaning was that some of you should haue gone to yonder place, and othersome to other places, pointing to di­uers places with his hand. The seditious persons hearing him say so, were well apaid, because they thought their euill pur­pose to haue bene vndiscouered: whereupon leauing that place, they departed by and by to the places hee had pointed them. Then Agesilaus seizing that Fort into his hands, the name whereof was Isorium, caused fifteene of the Rebels to be apprehended, whom he caused to bee all executed the next night.

[Page 195]One Badius hauing valeantly encountered the Carthagi­nenses at the battel of Cannas, The maner of Marcellus dea­ling in a cer­taine sedition. and being taken prisoner, to requite the courtesie of Hannibal that had saued his life, and giuen him his ransome, as soone as he came home to his owne house to Nola, made almost all his countrimen to rebell a­gainst the Romans. Yet for all this, Marcellus considering that the time required then to mollifie things, rather than to cor­zie them, sought not by any means to punish him, but onely sayd vnto him, Sith there bee in you so euident and honou­rable marks of your good will towards the Romans (meaning the wounds that he had receiued in the sayd battel of Can­nas) how happeneth it that you come not to the Romans still? Thinke you that wee be so leawd and so vnthankfull, that we vvill not reward the vertue of our good friends, accor­ding to their vvorthinesse, vvhich is honoured euen of our e­nemies? And after hee had imbraced him in his armes, he presented him vvith a goodly horse of seruice for the wars, and gaue him fiue hundred dragmaes. Whereupon from that day foorth he neuer forsooke Marcellus, but became very loi­all, and a most earnest discouerer of such as tooke part against the Romans.

Frederike the emperour, and king of Naples, minding to punish the rebels of Samimato, made countenance as though he had not espied their conspiracie, terming them euerywhere good and loiall subiects, to the end that despaire should not cause them to enter into arms against him openly, as the lords of Naples that followed the part of Conradine, had done against Charles duke of Aniou. For when they saw that Conradine was ouercome, and that there was no hope for them to obtaine pardon at the hands of Charles of Aniou, they fel to rebelling, and fortified themselues in diuers places.

Likewise when people are to far inraged, it is no time to punnish, but rather to reconcile and appease. When the Parisians rebelled for the aids: to put them in feare, men began to throw some of the rebels into the water. But [Page 196] in steed of dismaieng them, they burst out into greater furie than afore; in so much that the executioners were faine to giue ouer their punishment, for feare of increasing the com­motion, in steed of appeasing it.

Agesilaus hauing discouered a very dangerous conspiracie, did put some of the traitors to death secretly without arraign­ment or indictment, contrarie to the lawes of Lacedemon. For vnto people that are set vpon mischiefe, Biting words are dangerous not onely ouer­rigorous iustice, but also biting words are dangerfull, conside­ring that in time of trouble, and in time of commotion, one word, or one letter, may doe more harme, than a notable iniu­tie shall doe another time.

And euen so besell it to Macrinus for a letter which hee wrate vnto Mesa, wherein he told him that he had bought the emperorship of a sort of couetous souldiers, that had no consideration of deserts, but onely who would most giue. With which words the men of warre being chafed, did all sweare that it should cost Macrinus his head, in recompence of the wrong that he had done them. And so it came to passe indeed.

We haue spoken sufficiently of the discretion, meeldnesse, and vprightnesse which a prince ought to haue in cases of iu­stice, for the well and worthie executing thereof. But for as much as it is vnpossible for a prince to attend at al times to the doing of iustice: he must needs do iustice by deputies, and set men of good and honest reputation in his place, to do right be­tweene partie and partie, when cōtrouersies rise betwixt them, as Moses did by the counsell of his father in law, Iethro. In the chusing of whome, Princes ought to make chois of good iud­ges. a prince may as far ouershoot him­selfe, as if he iudged all causes without any foreconsideration. For he that maketh not choise of good iudges, dooth great wrong to the common-weale. No importunat sute, no earnest intreatance, no gifts that could be giuen, no fauour, no familia­ritie could euer cause Alexander Scuerus to bestow any office of iustice vpon any man whome he deemed not fit [...]or it, and vertuous in the administration of it.

[Page 197]Such therefore should be chosen, as are of skill and of good life; and they ought to haue good wages, and not to take any other thing, than their ordinarie stipend allowed them by the prince. Traian vsed that kind of dealing; of whom it is written, that he could not abide, that iudges should take any thing for their hire, but that they should be recōpensed at his hand, ac­cording to their seruice and good dealing. Adrian likewise en­quired of the life & conuersation of the senators: and when he had in truth found any that was vertuous & poore, he increa­sed his intertainment, and gaue him rewards of his owne priuat goods. Contrariwise when he found any to be giuen to vice, he neuer left vntill he had driuen him out of the senat. Now then, the prince that will haue good iudges, Officers are to be recom­penced accor­ding to their deseruings. yea and good officers of all sorts, must either honor them and reward them, or else punish them according to their deserts: As touching the ho­noring of them, Augustus hath shewed vs an example therof, who at his entering into the senat-house, saluted all the sena­tors, and at his going out would not suffer any of them to rise vp to him. Alexander Seuerus did greatly honour the presidents of the prouinces, causing thē to sit with him in his chariot, that men might see the honour that he yeelded to the ministers of iustice, and that he might the more conueniently talke with them, concerning the rule and gouernment wherof they had the charge. He neither made nor punished any senator, with­out the aduice of the whole senat. And vpon a time, when he saw a freeman of his walking betweene two senators, he sent one to buffet him, saieng it was vnseemly that he should pre­sume to meddle among senators, which might well haue bin their seruant. Likewise the Emperour Claudius neuer dealt in any affaire of importance, but in the senat. Euen Tiberius him­selfe had great regard of them, and saluted them whensoeuer he passed by them. The rewar­ding of iud­ges and offi­cers. And as touching the rewarding of them, the foresaid Alexander may serue for an example to good princes. For he did great good to iudges, and rewarded them bountifully. And being asked on a time why he did so, As a prince (quoth he) neither ought, nor in reason can be truly cal­led [Page 198] a prince, except he minister iustice: so be ye sure, that when I find an officer which doth his dutie in that behalfe, I cannot pay or recompence him sufficiently. That is the cause why I doe them so many courtesies; & besides that, in making them rich, Of the puni­shing of wic­ked iudges. I bereaue them of al cause to impouerish other men. But like as a good iudge cannot be too much recōpensed, so an e­uill iudge cannot be too much punished. We haue a notable example knowne to all men, concerning the punishment of the iudge, whom Cambyses made to be flaine quick, and with his skin curried, caused the seat of iudgement to bee couered, and made the same iudges son to sit as iudge on it, that in mi­nistring iustice, he should bethinke him of his fathers punish­ment Albeit that Antonine was very pittifull, yet was he very rigorous to iudges that did not their dutie; insomuch that wheras in other cases he pardoned euē the greeuousest offen­ces, in this case he punnished euen the lightest. There was also another thing in him right worthie of commēdation in the ex­ecu [...]ion of iustice; namely, that to auoid confusion, he caused al such to be dispatched out of hand, as had any sute in the court. And when any office was void, he would not that one should su [...] for it, but made the suters themselues to come to his pre­sence, as well to gratifie them himselfe, as also to know whom he gratified. For he that receiueth not the benefit at the prin­ces owne hand, thinketh himselfe beholden to none but vnto him by whome he had it, as wee haue found by experience in (this our realme of) Fraunce, within this fiftie or three­score yeares.

The Iustice of war [...]e. LEt vs come now to the iustice of war, which ought to be like the same that we haue spoken of, and con­sisteth in penalties and rewards, namely in punishing the wicked, and in recompensing the good and va­leant men with honour and regard. For honour nourisheth the liberall arts and vertue. In which behalfe the emperor Adrian did so greatly excell, that he was both feared and loued of all his men of war; feared because he chastised them, and belo­ued, [Page 199] because he paid them well. Vpon a time one demaunded of Lisander, What maner of common-weale hee liked best? That (qd. he) wherein both the valeant and the cowards are rewarded according to their deserts; as who would say, that vertue is furthered by reward; and that men of no value are spurred vp to doe well, by the shame and reproch which they receiue by doing amisse, and in being despised. Ennius Priscus demaunded of Traian, What was the cause that hee was bet­ter beloued of the people than his predecessors? Because (qd. he) that commonly I pardon such as offend me, and neuer for­get them that doe me seruice. The Law of Arms. But afore I speake of rewarding or recompensing, we must know what is the law and discipline of arms, wherof the first and principall point (that is to wit, to doe no man wrong) dependeth vpon naturall iustice. And yet-notwithstanding, this seemeth so strange among vs, that the cheefe and principall point of warlike behauiour, seemeth to consist in pilling, swearing, rauishing, & robbing, and that a soul­dier cannot be esteemed a gallant fellow, vnlesse he be furni­shed with those goodly vertues. Contrariwise, if the Romans had any souldiers that were neuer so little giuen to loosenesse, they would not vse their seruice▪ no not euen in most extreme necessitie, (as is to be seen by the doings of Metellus in Affrike, and of Scipio in Spain) making more account of one legion that liued after the law and order of war, than of ten that were out of order. Now the lawes of armes were diuers, according to the diuersities of the captains that haue had the leading of Armies. The vertue of obedience, dependeth vpon the gentlenes of nature. The first consisteth in the obedience of the men of warre. For (as saith Plato) it auaileth not to haue a good captaine, vnlesse the souldiers bee discreet and obedient, because the vertue of well-obeieng, hath as great need of a gentle nature, and of the helpe of good trainment, as the princely vertue of commaunding. All other precepts tend generally to naturall iustice, the which will not haue wrong done to any man. Alexander being aduertised that two soul­diers which serued vnder Parmenio, had rauished the wiues of certaine souldiers strangers, wrate vnto Parmenio to [Page 200] informe him therof, charging him that if he found it to be so, he should put both the souldiers to death, as wild beasts bred to the destruction of men. When the Romanes marched vn­der the leading of Marcus Scaurus, there was found in their trenches at their departure thence, a tree hanging ful of fruit, so great conscience made they to take any thing that was not their owne. And if any man went aside in any field, farme, or grange, at such time as the campe marched, he was punished immediatly, and it was demaunded of him if he could find in his heart, that a man should doe as much in his lands. Wher­soeuer Bellisarius went with his armie, he restrained his men from doing wrong to laborers and husbandmen, insomuch that they durst not eat the apples and peares that hung vpon the trees. After the death of Campson the Soldan of Aegypt, Se­lim king of Turks being possessed of Damasco, and the rest of the cities of Syria, would not suffer his men of war to come within them, but lodged his camp by the wals of the towne, and of all the time that he was there, there was not any guard set to keepe the goodly and fruitfull Gardens, that were without the citie, because the rigorous iustice that Selim exe­cuted, restrained the Turks from misdoing; wherthrough the whole armie found themselues well apaid. For they neuer wanted victuals, but had plentie and aboundance of all things. Traian caused a captaine to be banished, for killing a hus­bandmans Oxen without need; and awarded the husband­man for amends, to haue the captaines horse and armor, and also his quarters wages.

Tamerlane king of Tartarians, made a souldier of his to be put to death, for taking but a cheese from a poore woman. To­tilas was so seuere in the discipline of war, that he would not leaue any one misdeed vnpunished. He that rauished any woman, was punished with death, or at least wise forfaited his goods, the which were giuen to the partie that was outraged. Insomuch that he passed by the cities and townes that were in friendship and league with him, without doing them any harme; saying that kingdomes and empires were easily lost, [Page 201] if they were not maintained by iustice. Which thing Iustinian found to be very true, who through the vniustice and disorder of his captaines, lost the empyre of Italy. Paulus Emilius was a sterne obseruer of the law of arms, not seeking to purchase the loue of his souldiers by pleasing them, but shewing them himselfe from point to point, how auailable the ordinances of war were. And this his austeritie and terriblenesse towards them that were disobedient, and transgressed the law of arms, vpheld the commonweale vnappaired. It is a lesse matter to o­uercome the enemie, than to vphold one country by good disci­pline. For he was of opinion that to vanquish a mans enemies by force of arms, is (as ye would say) but an accessorie or income, in comparison of the well ordering and winning of a mans countrymen by good discipline.

The Lawes of arms haue bin diuerse, according to the di­uersitie of captaines, Of the lawes of arms, the which we may learne in one word of the best and most valeant emperours that euer haue bin. Iuli­us Caesar would make countenance, as though he saw not the faults of his souldiers, and let them goe vnpunished, so long as they tended not to mutinie, or that they forsooke not their ensigne; and in those cases he neuer pardoned thē. Insomuch that in the time of the ciuil wars, he cashed a whole legion at once, notwithstanding that he stood as then in great need of them, and ere euer he would admit them againe, he ceassed not, till he had punished the misdoers. Among the Aegyptians, they that had disobayed their captains, were noted with a re­proch worse than death.

Augustus was so seuere towards such as recoiled in battel, The seuerity of the Ro­manes. or disobayed his commaundements, that he would put euery tenth man of them to death, and vnto them that had done lesse faults, he would giue barly bread in steed of wheaten. So also did Marcellus cause barly to be deliuered in steed of wheat to the bands that first turned their backs vnto Hanniball. An­tonie tithed the Legions that had forsaken their trench, at a sallie that was made vpon them by the Persians out of Phraata. And vnto those also which remained of that tithing was barly giuen in steed of wheate, for their food to liue by. [Page 202] Licinius the consull, being sent against Spaerta [...]us chiefe lea­der of the bondmen that had rebelled, tythed to the number of a 4000 men, and yet failed not for all that, to obtain the vi­ctorie. At such time as Timoleon was minded to giue battell to the Carthagineans who were ten to one, ther were a thousand of his men that recoiled backe and would not fight, wher­of Timoleon was well apaid, that they had bewraied them­selues in good time, because that else they had done him more harme than good. But when he had once woone the field, and was returned vnto Syracuse, he banished them eue­richone out of Sicilie, with expresse commaundement, that they should get them out of the citie, before the sun went downe. Lucullus laid a reprochfull infamie vpon such as had fled in a certaine skirmish against Mithridates; causing them to dig a pit of twelue foot, all vnapparelled in their shirts, the rest of their company standing by to see them doe it. Traian would not suffer any souldier to be put to death, for any fault committed in war, except it were for blaspheming God, for treason, for flying in battell, for rauishing of women, or for slee­ping in the watch; and in those cases he pardoned not any man whatsoeuer he were. Albeit that Pirrhus was a stranger, yet caused he the law of arms to be obserued straightly a­mong the Tarentines, and he punished those that failed. Ma­rius was a sore man in that behalfe, but when he had once in­ured his souldiers to abstaine from offending, Seueritie in war is wh [...]l­some. and from diso­baying, then they found that his sternnesse in commaunding, and his sharpnesse in punishing such as forgate their dutie, was not only reasonable, but also iust and wholesome. The laws of the Switzers are such, that such as slee and recoile in battell for feare and cowardlinesse, shall be cut in peeces by their fellowes in the sight of the whole armie, to the end that the greater feare should ouer-wey the lesser; and that for dread of the violent death, they should chuse the death that is honourable. This caused the emperor Iulian in a cer­taine battell to slea ten of the first that fled away, therby to compell the rest to turne againe vpon the enemie. Captaine [Page 203] Franget was degraded from the order of knighthood, & pro­claimed vnnoble, both he and all his posteritie, for yeelding Fontrabie to the Spaniards, notwithstanding that he excused himselfe by a secret compact that Don Peter the sonne of the marshall of Nauar had made with the Spaniards; because it was thought that although it were so, yet he ought not to haue bin negligent in forseeing such cōspiracie. Auidius Cassius delt more cruelly thā any others, The crueltie of Auidius Cassius in executing the law of arms. For he made all such to be crucified, as had taken any thing from honest men, in the selfe same place where the crime was cōmitted. Also he caused the arms & legs to be cut off, of al such as departed from the camp without pasport: and he put them not to death, saying that there was more exāple to be seen in a miserable catif aliue, than dead. It happened vpon a time, that a verie few of his men of war, hauing discouered that the Sar­matians kept no good ward, slew of thē to the nūber of a three thousand. And whē his capteins sued for reward of their good exploit, he made them to be al crucified, saying it might haue happened that there had bin some ambush of enemies, & by that means the honor of the Roman empire might haue bin lost; in doing wherof, he followed the example of Torquatus, the historie of whom is known well inough: neuerthelesse in the one there was a breach of the prohibitiō, but in this there was no such thing at all. This crueltie was far differing frō the meeldnes of Scipio, who said, that a good generall of a field, ought to deale like the good surgion, which neuer vseth laun­cing but when all other remedies faile. And as Plutarch saith in the cōparison betweene Agis & Gracchus, It is not the pro­pertie either of good surgion or of good gouernor of a state, to set his hād to sword or launcer, but only in extreame necessitie, whē there is no other remedie. How a souldi­er is to be delt with▪ that hee may be good, But to make a man of war obe­diēt, & refrain from doing wrong to any body, he must be well paid. And (as Alexander Seuerus saith) he must be wel apparel­led, well shod, well armed, well fed, & haue some mony in his purse. For pouertie maketh men hartlesse. The same thing was some cause, that the soldiers of Macrinus rebelled against him. [Page 204] For when they saw themselues so ill paid, they fell to mutinie, wherat Mesa taking occasion to lay hold of the opportunitie that was offered, fell in hand with the men of war, and by of­fering them to pay them of his owne treasures, he made them so affectioned towards him, that for his sake they set vp his little sonne Heliogabalus.

Iphicrates an Athenian captaine, was content that his soul­diers should be couetous, amorous, and voluptuous, to the in­tent that they might hazard themselues the more boldly and aduenturously to all perils, to haue wherewith to furnish their desires. And Iulius Caesar would haue his souldiers faire and richly armed, to the end they should fight valeantly, for feare to loose them. Finally, to teach whatsoeuer belongs to a soul­dier to haue, the epistle sufficeth which Dioclesian writeth thus to a certaine gouernour of a prouince; If you will bee a Tribune (saith he) or rather if you intend to liue, bring to passe that your souldiers meddle not with other mens goods, that they take neither pullerie nor sheepe, that they trample not downe other mens corne, that they take not any mans oyle, salt, or wood vnpaid for, that they find themselues of the booties of their enemies, and not with the teares of your sub­iects, that euery of them haue his armor neat and cleane, that they be well shod, and that they be well clad.

The keeping of equalitie a­mong men of war.There is yet one rule more to be kept in the law of arms, which is, to keepe equalitie among men of war; the which rule Adrian the emperor obserued very well and fitly. For when he would haue any labour done in his campe, all were put to the labour; when any watching was, al watched; and he would not suffer any man to be exempted: insomuch that he himselfe would be the formost among them. Soldiers haue most neede of discipline in time of peace. Also there is considera­tion to be had in warfare, how to make difference betweeen a camp and a garison. For in a campe it is not amisse, to take some respit that men may make merry, so the time of feasting bee not ouer-long. And therfore in that behalfe, Iulius Caesar loo­ked not too neerly to his souldiers, because he did keepe them commonly occupied. But when rhey lie in garison, [Page 205] where they shall not need to fight, nor stand in feare of any enemie; It will not be good to accustome them to liue too delicatly and at too much ease. For in so long continuance of time, they become the more vnweeldie to war, and if they pill the countrie where they lie, there followeth vpon it the hatred of that people. Charles of Aniou was esteemed and commended for his good fortune, and for a good warrior. But yet was this renowne somewhat defaced, for that after his vi­ctories, hee gaue his souldiers too much libertie in time of peace, to the great domage of his subiects. Therfore in time of peace is it wherin they haue most chiefly need of discipline and labour, least they wex vnweeldie by weltering in idle­nesse. For by that are they often vndone. And in very deed, be­cause the Legions in Germanie were very much marred, by being too much nusled in licentiousnesse afore; Adrian was driuen to doe in time of peace as in time of war, and to set vp the order of war new againe, which had bin discontinued from the time of Augustus. And for example to his men of war, he ate not any other victuals than such as were ordinarie, and he marched on foote fiue or sixe leagues a day. Also we read that after the time that Hanniball fell to maintaine his wars with lesse feare against the Romanes, by reason of his victo­rie at Cannas, and for that he had met with a delicate citie replenished with all sorts of pleasures, he found not his soul­diers so good a good while after, as they had bin afore. In that respect did one say, That the vanquished Asia, had vāquished the Romanes. The natious least delicat, haue bin best warriors. And of a truth the nations that haue had least things of delight, haue euer bin the best warriors. As for ex­ample, Iulius Caesar deemed the Belgians to be the valiantest of all the Gauls, because they were furthest off from the Ro­mane prouince, and had fewest of the things of delight brought out of the prouince to them. The Greeks did alwais with small numbers make head against the Persians. The La­cedemonians ouer-mastered all the rest of the Greeks, and continued vnuincible, so long as they kept their warlike disci­pline; but as soon as they forwent that, they were vanquished [Page 206] by the Thebans, as Darius was by Alexander, notwithstanding that Darius came with fiue hundered thousand men, against a fiftie or threescore thousand Macedonians; and that was be­cause the one sort was tender and trained vp in pleasure and not in war, and the other sort was enured to war, and accusto­med to pains taking. The Turks obseruing some piece of the Romane discipline, drinke no wine: by meane wherof, they be discharged of a great deale of baggage, without the which our men could not liue so much as one day. Pesennius Niger suffered not any wine to be brought into his campe. And on a time when the garrison that lay in Aegypt, desired leaue to haue wine, he answered, that the water of Nilus ought to con­tent them. So also did Augustus, when complaint was made vnto him of the dearth of wine, saying, That his son in law A­grippa, had well prouided for that want, by the goodly con­duits that he had made in Rome.

Of the rewar­ding of men of war.Thus much concerning the laws and discipline of war. Now must I speake of rewarding, which is the thing that most holdeth the noble and gentlemanly hearts in their dueties. For (as saith Titus Liuius) there is not that thing which men will not vndertake to doe, if the hardie and valiant aduentu­rers vpon great things may be rewarded accordingly. In which behalfe the emperor Adrian bare the be [...]: For he rewarded valiant persons bountifully; yea he went and sought them out of far countries, without sparing of monie, horses, or armor. King Lewis the eleuenth did the like to men of seruice. And the like maner of dealing ought to be obserued towards a mans houshold seruants to make them honest; namely their seruices ought to be recompenced in time and place, accor­ding to their deserts. For nothing doth so much encourage houshold seruants, as when they see that their master know­eth them, Of houshold iustice, or houshold righteous­nesse. and enquireth after them. This maner of vpright­nesse we call Houshold iustice, wherin the emperor Antonine excelled. For he would vnderstand the order of his house to the vttermost; so as he would know who serued him, and in what place or degree, whether euerie man were paid his wa­ges [Page 207] for his pains, whether euerie man behaued himselfe faith­fully, & whether all together did their dutie. And this maner of recompensing & rewarding, we terme Iustice distributiue; which is, when preferments and cōmodities are distributed ac­cording to mens deserts, that haue profited the cōmon-weale, & done seruice to their maisters. The rewar­ding of good [...], shew­eth the iustice o [...] h [...]m that [...]. For this liberalitie being ioi­ned with vprightnes, taketh vnto it the nature therof, inso­much that the recōpensing of deserts, sheweth the iustice of him that raigneth, as [...]heoderik writeth vnto Arthemidorus. But if wicked mē, cowards, iesters, vnthrifts, & such as are vnmeet to haue the ordering of matters, & are void of skill in cases of iustice or fea [...]s of war, do carrie away the reward of good men, it may well be said, that the state is very sore sicke, & that the prince doth vtterly loose al that he bestoweth, thrusting from him his worthy & good seruitors, by his not recōpensing thē according to their deserts▪ hauing no thanke for the good he doth to the vnworthie. For as Budeus saith in his Institution of a prince, the vnworthy perceiuing that the great benefits that they receiue of their master, proceed of ignorance & want of good discretion, & not of wise & wel gouerned affection; des­pise both the gifts & the giuer of thē. And therfore I purpose to speak here of the recōpenses that ought to be made to those that deserue thē, of which recōpenses some be made with ho­nor, & some with mony. Of the re­compen [...]es that are [...] in ho­nour. Of honorable titles, many were giuen in old time: as for example, wal-garlāds, city-garlands, & such other without number. And in these dais we haue the order of knight-hood, the which within a while hath bin so shamfully abused, that no account is made of it. The rewards that cōsist in profit, are to be giuen to the peti-captains, & valiant souldi­ers in ready mony, if the reuenues of the crowne wil beare it. For, to racke and rake from the people wherwith to recom­pence the men of war, as did the emperour Seuerus, is an euill king of dealing. Not long since we haue had two kings of great fame, namely Lewis the eleuenth, who was liberall in pampering men with money, howbeit at the cost of his commons. And Lewis the twelfth, who was of small libera­litie [Page 208] to his men of war, but a great louer of his commons. This man being well serued of all sorts of men, died with the reputation of a good, valiant, and vertuous prince, and had borne the the title of Father to his people. The other neuer attained so neere, nor was so much beloued as he, for all his liberalitie.

The moun­ting to digni­ty by degrees.There is yet one other sort of recompence, and that is of honour and profit matched togither, when men attaine to dignities by degrees, as when a meane souldier becommeth the leader of a squadron, captaine, master of the campe, and colonell. And when a man of arms mounteth by degrees to bee chiefe herbinger, guidon, ensigne, lieutenant; then chiefe of the companies, great maister, admirall, marshall, and so foorth.

What a prince is to doe that he forget not those that doe him seruice.Also to the intent that the prince forget not them that doe him seruice, and deserue recompence, because they bee so great a number, that he shall not be of memorie sufficient to remember them all; it behoueth to haue a booke or a paire of tables, wherein to set downe the names of all such as doe him any notable seruice, that he may reward them in due time and place, as the emperors Charles the fift, and Alexander Seuerus did; who wrate downe those that did him seruice, and the rewards which he had giuen to many of them. And if in perusing his notes of remembrance, he saw any man that had done him seruice and was not worthilie recompenced; hee made him to come before him, and asked of him why he had not sued for recompence, willing him to sue boldly for any thing agreeable to his estate.

Two offices, or mo be not to be giuen to one man.And for as much as it is an easie matter for a prince that hath so many subiects, to recompence them all; it behoueth him to take good heed that he bestow not two offices or mo vpon one man. For in so doing he bereaueth himselfe of the meanes to recompence manie, and is not so well serued as he else should be. For (as Alexander Seuerus was woont to say) it is a hard matter, that he which hath two charges at once, should be able to vse them to his owne honor, and his masters [Page 209] profit. When I speake of the recompensing of Seruices, my meaning is, that it should be done measurably, and not by put­ting men in trust with too great a charge, nor by making them too mightie, least perhapes they turne head against their mai­ster. For mightinesse ingendreth riches, enuy, and pride, Power bree­deth Pride. as it be­fell to Perennius, who perceiuing himselfe to bee ouergreat, and the ordering of all affairs to be in his owne hand, conspi­red against the emperour Commodus his maister, to whom he was beholden for al his welfare. But his treason was bewraied, and he punished according to his deserts. We know what hap­pened in Fraunce to the maires of the pallace; which caused Consaluo to be called home out of Naples, where he managed the king of Aragons affairs so wel, and vnto whom the king his maister was beholden for the kingdome of Naples; which thing was done for feare least he should haue seazed vpon the kingdom, considering his credit, his good gouernment, and his experience in war. There remaineth yet one doubt more con­cerning the execution of iustice; Whether a prince ought to shift offi­cers or no. to wit, whether a prince for the benefit of his common-weale ought to chaunge his offi­cers, as they did in old time in Rome, and in Athens. If it be ob­iected that those were pulick-weales, wherein euery man ru­led by turne; I wil oppose Alexander Seuerus a sage prince and such a one as minded not any thing but the publick-weale, who also chaunged his officers; saieng that when princes are gouer­ned continually by any one sort, means are found by intrea­tance, gifts, and other corrupt dealings, to peruert their good dispositions. And peraduenture at that time, Alexander had seene the inconueniences therof, the which he meant to reme­dy, or at leastwise to assay to remedy. But in this manner of dealing there may be as great inconuenience, as in the other: namely that their king shal not haue them so well affectioned towards him, as they ought to be. For they that are accusto­med to the seruice of a good prince, do loue their maister far better, than those that are but new come in. And as the Pro­uerb saith, A man must first know, ere he can loue. Besides this affection, they be the better acquainted with his humors, and [Page 210] the better experienced in his affaires. For practise maketh men sufficient, and the new come is as easie to be corrupted as the old seruitor, when the way to corruption is once set o­pen. Moreouer, they that come fresh, try by al means to make their hand of the bountie and liberalitie of the prince; inso­much that most commonly, the oftner that there is a change, the oftener the princes purse is emptied. Record hereof is the fable of the flaine fox, who would not suffer the flies to be driuen from him, that had fed vpon him, for seare least when they were gone, there would come others fresh and fasting, which would doe him more harme and paine than the for­mer that were alreadie full. Augustus altered not the maner of dealing which the Romans had vsed, of sending senators into a prouince, for a certaine time. Neuerthelesse being disquieted by a feat that had bene done in Germanie; to make all sure, & to hold the people of that prouince in obedience, he would not haue the senators to remoue thence, to the intent that the subiects should be held in obedience by men of experience, that were alreadie acquainted with the people of that coun­trie. And therefore it is best for all euents, that a prince should not change his officers, but that if any of them offend, hee should well punish them, as Augustus did a secretarie of his, whose thighs hee caused to be broken, because he had ta­ken a bribe to shew a letter. Lewis the twelfth king of France, liued in all prosperitie, because he was serued by the auntient officers of the crowne, yea euen by those that had taken him prisoner in battell when he was duke of Orleans. Contrari­wise, king Lewis the eleuenth, was in hazard to haue lost his crowne, by changing all new.

Treasurers and officers of account.I graunt that the dealing of Alexander Seuerus was well to be admitted in cases of account, where the prince hath more need of a man of honestie, than a man of great skill. Also the said good emperor permitted them not to continue in office aboue one yeare at once, for feare least their ouer-long conti­nuance in those dealings should make them theeues, terming the offices of generall Receit, a necessarie euill; because that [Page 211] on the one part they cannot be forborne, and on the other part they teach men to play the theeues. Froissard saith, that the earle of Fois, of whome he maketh very great reckoning, tooke twelue notable men to be of his Receits, of whom two serued euery month, and so from month to month other two by turns, which alwaie yeelded their accounts to a controller, in whom he put greatest trust.

To conclude this discourse, Precepts of Iustice. the prince and he that is autho­rised vnder him to be a iudge, must keepe well the precept of Martian, namely, that he be neither too soft nor too rigorous inpunishing, but as the cause deserueth. For he must not affect the glorie of meeldnesse, or of seueritie, but when he hath wel considered the case, he must doe iustice as the case requireth, vsing mercie and gentlenesse in small matters, and shewing se­ueritie of law in great crimes, howbeit alwaies with some tem­perance of gentlenesse. For as Theodorike was woont to say, It is the propertie of a good and gracious prince, not to be desirous to punish offences, but to take them away; least by punishing them too eagerly, or by ouerpassing them too meeldly, he be deemed vnaduised and carelesse of the execution of iustice. S. Iohn Chrysostome saith, That iustice without mercie, is not iu­stice but crueltie; and that mercie without iustice, is not mer­cie but folly. And to my seeming, Suetonius hath no great like­lihood of reason to commend Augustus for mercifull, in that to saue a manifest parricide from casting into the water in a sacke, (as was wont to be done to such as had confessed them­selues guiltie of that fault) he asked him after this maner; I be­leeue thou hast not murthered thy father. For he that iustifi­eth the wicked, and hee that condemneth the guiltlesse, are both of them abhominable to the Lord, saith Salomon in his Prouerbs. Punishment must not [...]asse the offence. And aboue all things (as saith Cicero in his booke of Duties) he must beware that the punishment be not too great for the offence, and that where many bee partakers of one crime, one be not sore punished, and another sleightly passed ouer.

CHAP. IIII. That a prince ought to be liberall, and to shun nig­gardship and prodigalitie.

THus much in few words concerning iu­stice, the which Cicero diuideth in­to two, namely into that which is tearmed by the generall name of Righteousnesse, & into that which is tearmed Liberalitie, accordingly as the holy scripture doth ordinari­ly take righteousnesse for the libe­ralitie that is vsed towards the needie, the which we call Alms or Charitie. He hath dispersed & giuen vnto the poore, (saith the Psalmist) and his righteousnesse endureth for euer; that is to say, He will continue still to shew himselfe righteous, and he shall haue wherin to execute his liberalitie all the daies of his life. And S. Paule in his second Epistle to the Corinthians, prayeth God to encrease the reuenues of their righteousnesse, that is to say of their liberalitie or bounteous­nesse. And in the one and twentith of the Prouerbs, He that followeth righteousnesse and mercie, (saith Salomon) He that is kind-hearted and pitifull to the poore, shall find life, righ­teousnesse, and glorie. And in the same place, The righteous giueth (saith he) and spareth not. Now therfore I must speake more particularly of the distributiue righteousnesse, which is called Liberalitie, and is as it were the meane betwixt nig­gardlinesse and prodigalitie, a vertue well-beseeming a rich man. For (as saith Plato) He that hath store of goods, if he make others partakers with him, is to be honoured as a great man: Liberalitie be­seemeth a prince. but specially it most beseemeth a prince, as who is better able to put it in vse, than any priuat persons. For Libe­ralitie vndoeth liberalitie, because that the more a man vseth it, the more he abateth his abilitie of vsing it towards many, [Page 213] A king who hath great reuenues, may honourably vse it in his life, without abating the meane to doe good to such as de­serue it. Therefore Plutarch in his booke of the Fortunat­nesse and vertue of Alexander, saith; That as the fruits of the earth grow faire by the temperatnesse of the aire: euen so, good wits are furthered by the liberalitie, honourable counte­naunce, and courtesie of a king; and that on the contra­rie part, they droope and decay through his niggardship, displeasure, It is the dutie of a king to doe good vn­to many. and hard-dealing. For the very dutie of a king (said Agesilaus) is to doe good vnto many. Ptolomaeus Lagus said, It was a more goodly and princely thing to enrich other men, than to enrich himselfe, according to S. Paules saying, That it is better to giue than to take. And Fabricius had leuer to haue at commaundement men that were well moni­ed, than the monie it selfe.

Dennis the tyrant of Siracuse offered presents to the am­bassadours of Corinth, the which they refused, saying, That the law of their countrie forbad them to take ought of any prince whatsoeuer. Wherevnto hee answered, Surelie yee doe amisse, O yee Corinthians, in that yee bereaue princes of the best thing that they haue. The misli­king of great power, is ta­ken away by Liberalitie. For there is not any other meane to take away the misliking of so great a power, than by courtesie and liberalitie. Alexander was woont to say, That there was not a better hoording vp of treasure, than in the purses of his friends; because they will yeeld it him againe whensoeuer hee needeth it. Now then, this vertue doth maruellously well beseeme a prince, because he hath wherwith to put it in vre; and yet neuerthelesse it ceasseth not to be in the mind of a poore man also. Liberalitie [...] not to bee measu [...]d by the gift but by the will. For a man is not to be deemed liberall for his great gifts, but for the will that he hath to do good. For a poore man may be more liberall than a rich, although he giue far lesse without comparison than the rich, because liberalitie (like as all other vertues) proceedeth chiefly from the disposition or inclination that a man hath to giue.

As for example, the poore widow that did put the two mites [Page 214] into the offering box, was esteemed to haue giuen more than al the rich men, though the thing she gaue was nothing in cōpa­rison of the gifts of other men. For liberalitie consisteth not in the greatnes of the gifts, but in the maner of the giuing. And he is liberall, which giueth according to his abilitie, vnto good men, and vpon good causes. This vertue represseth nigardship, and moderateth prodigalitie, causing a man to vse his goods and his money aright. Three waies of v [...]ing a mans goods well. The meane to vse these well, consisteth in three points. The first is in taking a mans owne money where he ought to take it: and hereunto maketh the good husban­ding of him that spareth his reuenue, to spend it to good pur­pose. For he that hath not wherewith to maintain his expenses, doth amisse in making large expenses at other mens cost: and he that hath it, doth amisse if he spend it not, because there is not any thing that winneth a prince so much the fauor of his people, as liberalitie doth. Dennis the tyrant intēding to try his son, furnished him with much costly stuffe, iewels, and vessell, both of gold and siluer of great price. And when long time af­ter, he had espied that the plate remained with him still, he taunted him, saieng that he had not a princely hart, sith he had not made him friends with his plate, hauing such abundāce; for he was of opinion, that such gifts would haue gotten his son good will at all mens hands. For as Salomon saith in the xix. of the prouerbs: euery man is a friend to the man that giueth. And in the chapter going afore, Gifts get f [...]iendship at al mens hād [...]. he saith, That a mans gift maketh way for him, and leads him to the presence of great men. And in the xvij he saith, That a gift is as a precious stone in the eies of him that possesseth it, that is say, that a gift hath such grace, that it can doe all to the winning of mens hearts. The second meane for a prince to vse liberalitie well, is, not to take his money where he ought not. Wherein consisteth the honor of his power, in that he wil not take from one to giue vnto another, nor strip one naked to clothe another. The third meane, is to spend it as he ought, which is the very true meane of liberalitie, whereunto both the other be referred. Now then, liberalitie consisteth chiefly in the well vsing of monie; [Page 215] To vse money well, What it is to vse monie wel is to spend it and giue it to such as want and are worthie to haue. As for the only keeping of a mans re­uenue, it is not the vsing, but rather the getting of money. Therfore liberalitie cannot consist in the well keeping of a mans reuenues, neither consisteth it meerely in not taking from others, but in benefiting others. For it is more praise-wor­thie to doe good, than it is to keepe a mans owne (whereunto we be inclined by nature) or not to doe any man hurt. For it is not inough for a man to abstaine from doing harme, vnlesse he also doe good. And yet for all that, it behoueth the liberall to be carefull in keeping his owne, that he may haue wherewith to maintaine his liberalitie, A poore prince is nei­ther well [...]ued of his subiects, [...] feared of s [...]rangers. specially a prince. For as saith A­lexander Seuerus, the prince that is poore and needy, is neither serued with good courage of his subiects, nor feared of stran­gers: and much lesse the prodigall, who wasteth all without reason, and catcheth other mens goods to maintain his lauish­nesse withall. There are othersome that giue, but they be also greedie of gain; and they cannot be counted to do the deeds of liberalitie. For Liberalitie lieth chiefly in the heart, and re­gardeth not gaine. But to loue monie, is a spice of couetousnes, notwithstanding that afterward a man spend it more for often­tation, than vpon any liberall mind. For there are many which deface their reputation, by taking vnworthely, foully, and fil­thily, to giue it away afterward. As for example, the bawd that maketh vnhonest gaine, the iudge that suflereth himselfe to be corrupted with bribes, and the prince that deuiseth a thou­sand kind of taxes, to maintaine his vndiscreet expenses, as Ca­ligula did, who tooke of euery courtizan as much of hir gaine as she could get of any man at once; and as the emperour Vespasian did, who said that the gaine of monie was good from whence soeuer it came, yea though it were made of mens vrine. But to order our expenses well, there are three things to bee regarded; first, the quantitie which we giue, that our gift be neither too small nor too great: for the ouer-smal, is vnbeseeming a gentlemanly heart; and the ouer­great dreineth the purse too much, as it befell to Alexander, [Page 216] who gaue so excessiue gifts to his friends, that they were faine to refuse them.

A prince must moderate his ordinarie ex­penses. Plato will haue a prince to be temperat in the expenses of his house. For if he haue not a regard to moderat his ordina­rie expenses, it will be hard for him to prouide for his extra­ordinarie affairs, and for his wars. To furnish out these expen­ses, they are wont to leuie a thousand sorts of impositiōs of the people; and so to doe, they be councelled by claw-backs and bloud-suckers of the court. But they should answer them as Antoninus Pius the emperor of Rome did; The order and maner (quoth he) which is to be sought to make me great, is to augment the common-wealth, and not my rents; and to deuise means not how to impofe new tributes, but how to a­bate mine extraordinarie expenses, and to vse sparing, which is a certaine & sure reuenue. Sparing is a sure reuenue. And as Machiauel saith, This ma­ner of giuing to al men, maketh the prince beloued, and it ca­rieth a goodly shew for a time; but in the end, the people conceiue more disliking of the prince, than those to whom he giueth, receiue contentment; and so at the last he is hated of all. For as Cicero saith in his Duties, in this kind of liberalitie, there is euer a desire of taking perforce, that there may be wherwith to giue still.

Most men esteemed Lewis the twelfth to be niggardly, The treasure prepared for the necessitie of the state, is not to be [...]ashed out in time of peace. be­cause he gaue no great gifts; but he had wrōg, for he could not both make war, & pay his souldiers well, and also giue lauish­ly. For as Paulus Iouius saith, Princes doe great harme both to themselues and to their subiects, when by spending prodigally in vaine expenses, during the time of peace, they wast away the treasures prepared for the necessities of war. Secondly ac­cording to the precept of Cato, it is to be considered, to whom a man giueth. For most cōmonly men giue to those that haue no need of it, or to vnworthie persons, as flatterers, ribauds, and other leaud and vnprofitable folke, whom good princes haue alwaies bin wont to driue out of their courts. For it were much better to spare their benefits, than to bestow it vpon such people: and whosoeuer deemeth that to be liberaltie, [Page 217] mistaketh the case, and considereth not how Crates saith, That the mony of the most part of rich men, is like the figs that grow vpon the high mountaines and rocks, which are not eaten of men, but of rooks and crowes, and other vile birds. Euen so is it with the goods of prodigall persons, wher­with none but harlots and flatterers are mainteined. Liberalitie is vnderpropped by two things. Therfore Valerius saith, that liberalitie is vpheld by two things, namely, true Iudgement, and good Loue. For they that giue vndis­creetly, doe it either for want of iudgement, or els to attaine to some euill end.

Alexander said, Good turnes misbestowed, are euil turns. There were two faultie extremities in libe­ralitie, the one of giuing to vnworthie persons, because, as Me­nander saith, Good turns mis-bestowed, are euill turnes: and the other, of not giuing to the worthie; for it is a great fault, when they that are hindermost in desert, are foremost in re­wards of profit and honor. Good must be done for good desert, and not to get praise. Thirdly, it is to be considered wher­fore a man giueth: namely for wel-doing, and not to purchase praise as most men do, and not for charitie; and therfore they giue to flatterers and claw-backs, and not to such as haue need, or to such as deserue it.

Cicero saith in his booke of Duties, That there are two sorts of liberalitie. Two sorts of Liberalitie. For we vtter our liberalitie, either by our trauell and pains taking, or by our purse. The former procee­deth of vertue, and is more difficult and of more worthinesse than the other; as when a man solliciteth matters for his friend, or attendeth in sute for some good turne for him, or procureth him a councellor to defend his cases. Liberalitie must be vsed without pre­iudice to any. But in especi­ally a man must beware, that he offend no man in seeking to helpe his friend. And if you fortune to offend any man against your will, you must excuse your selfe to him, and deale in such sort as you may recompence your ouer-sight with doing some good. For as Cicero saith in his booke of Duties, Liberalitie is to be vsed as may profit a mans friends, without preiudice to any person, because liberalitie is accompanied with iust dealing.

And as to [...]ching the giuing of monie and the bestowing of [Page 218] benefits, they ought to be done vnto the distressed and nee­die, rather than to others, the contrarie wherof is done most commonly. For lightly men giue where they may hope for some good againe, though there be no need at all. But this is rather couetousnesse than liberalitie, because it is but a put­ting of a small fish vpon a hooke, therwith to catch a greater. Likewise liberalitie consisteth in redeeming prisoners, Of Alms. and in giuing to the poore; in which behalfe Cicero speaketh like a Christian. And this maner of liberalitie is called Alms, Pitie, and Charitie. Salomon in the xxij of the Prouerbs saith, He which is pitifull, shall be blessed, because he hath giuen bread to the hungrie. And in the xxviij, Who so giueth to the poore shall not want, but he that turneth his eies from them, shall haue much miserie.

In the third of Ecclesiasticus, it is said that as water quen­cheth the burning fire, so alms withstandeth sin, and God will haue consideration of him that sheweth pitie; for he will be mindfull of him in the time to come, and he shall find assurance in the day of his death. Againe in the seuenth chap­ter, Reach out thy hand to the poore (saith he) that thou maist be throughly blessed and reconciled. Againe, in the xvij chapter, A mans alms-deed (saith he) is as a purse with him, and preserueth a mans fauor as the apple of an eie. And a­gaine in the xxix, Lay vp thine alms-deed in the bosome of the poore, and it shall make thee to be heard against all euill. There is another sort of liberalitie approching to pitie, Hospitalitie a spice of Libe­ralitie. which is called Hospitalitie, (for which Abraham & Lot were highly commannded, and had the honor to receiue angels) when the houses of rich men are open to entertaine honest strangers. A­mong the men of old time, the almightie God (whom they named Iupiter) was called the Harberor, & so is he termed of Homer & Virgil. Cimo of Athens made a house with his owne hands, to lodge strangers in. Plato saith, That the offences which are done against strangers, are greater than those that are cōmitted against a mans own [...] [...]untrimen; for in as much as a stranger hath no kindred nor friends, men ought to be the [Page 219] more pitifull towards him. The Almans made so great ac­count of those with whom they had eaten and drunke, that they imparted their houses vnto them. And the Lucans had a law that cōdemned that man to be fined, which suffered the stranger to passe vnlodged, after the sun was downe. T [...]eata [...]ene [...] of Liberality. There is also another branch of liberalitie, called Treatablenes, which is, when a man is not rough in requiring that which is borrowed of him, but is easie to be delt with in all bargaining, whether it be of buying or of selling, and will not sticke sometime to for­beare, yea and release some part of his right, as is to be seene in the end of Ciceroes second booke of Duties, where he treateth of it largely inough, and that in such sort, as he may seeme to haue drawn it out of our books of diuinitie, which cōmaund vs to be charitable to our neighbors, rather in doing good to the poore than to the rich, and especially in doing the spirituall works, wherof I will speake briefly herafter, when I come to treat of kindnesse; referring the residue to Diuines, who haue made so goodly treatises, & so pleasant & wholsom discourses, that it is not possible to do more. Liberalitie of despising mo­ny and gifts. There is another kind of li­beralitie, which cōsisteth not in giuing, but in despising mony & gifts, & the same is directly contrarie to couetousnes, wher­of we haue Pericles for an example, who was not in any wise to be corrupted with gifts, neither could couetousnes in any wise weigh with him; insomuch that although he was the prince of Athens, yet notwithstanding he inriched not himselfe one halfe peny. And also Phocion who refused 600000 crowns at Alexanders hand, though he was both poore & needy: neither wold he take ought of Antipater, though he was his friend: in­somuch that Antipater said, that he had two friends in the ci­tie of Athens, namely Phocion & Demades, of whō he could ne­uer cause the one to take any thing, nor giue the other inough to satisfie him. The Philosopher Xenocrates sent back 500 ta­lents vnto Alexander, when he had giuen him thē, saieng, That so long as he liued in such sort as he did, he should neuer need so great a sum of mony. Fabricius the consull did as much to Pirrhus, refusing the gold and siluer that he offered him.

[Page 220]These men could not giue, because they themselues were needie, but yet had they a liberall nature, in that they made none accout of worldly goods, and yet were contented to part from that which they had.

Liberalitie consisteth b [...]h in gi­uing and in taking. Artaxerxes king of Persia was wont to say, That liberali­tie consisteth not only in giuing, but also in taking; as when a man through a kind of couetousnesse, doth courteously ac­cept the gifts that are offered him, though they bee but of small estimation and value. For therby the prince doth men to vnderstand, what account he maketh of small things, in that he receiueth them, and it is an occasion for him to requite it with very great vsurie. And although king L [...]wis the eleuenth doe say, that a man ought neither to bind a prince, nor to be af­fraid to aske of him, and to make himselfe indebted vnto him, and that his so doing maketh the prince the forewarder to do for him, because the noblenesse of the princes courage is such, that he loueth them most which are most bound vnto him, and naturally we loue the things that are of our owne making (as saith, Aristotle, where he demaundeth why benefactors are more inclined towards such as are bound vnto them, than towards such as are not:) yet notwithstanding a subiect ought not to be affraid to offer a present to his prince, in witnesse of his seruice and good will. Neither did king L [...]wis the eleuenth meane it concerning presents or gifts, but of seruices done by subiects, wherof they had no recompence. For therof the prince is ashamed, and therfore is loth to see them. Contrari­wise he loueth, liketh, and aduanceth those that are made by him, euen through a certaine naturall reason, which makes vs loue the things that come of our selues, and which we haue brought foorth, whether it be by nature, or by wit, or by good doings. But the wel-aduised subiect bestoweth not any gift vpon his prince, as vpon one that hath need, or therby to bind his prince: but as in way of duty or submission to do him ser­uice. And therfore of such a present, a prince must accept very gladly. For the despising therof, importeth a kind of pride and disdaine, as who would say, the prince made no reckoning of [Page 221] him that offered it. And therfore Alexander did willingly re­ceiue the burgesship which the Corinthians offred vnto him, when he once knew that they had neuer made the like offer to any stranger, saue only to him and Hercules: insomuch that euer after he esteemed that gift more deerly, than all the pre­sents of the queen of Caria. Of Magnifi­cence. We haue one other kind of libera­litie belonging to great lords, called Magnificence, which re­specteth the greatnesse of expenses: as the building of tem­ples, the making of stately dwelling-houses, of conduits, of bridges, of Theatres, and of other things seruing for common vse, and the bountifull entertaining of such as come to visit them, as did Lucullus, Pompeius, and Cicero, and also Paulus Ae­milius, who tooke great pains himselfe in furnishing and mar­shalling a feast. And when he was asked why he was so curi­ous in setting foorth a banquet; he answered, That there was as great discretion to be vsed in the ordering of a feast, as in the ordering of a battell, that the one might become terrible to the enemies, and the other be acceptable to friends. And to shew that he set not his heart vpon riches; after that he had subdued Perseus, he tooke not to himselfe one pins worth of his treasures, neither would he so much as once see the monie that was there, but caused an inuentorie to be made therof, by commissioners appointed to that purpose, and sent it euery whit to Rome. Scipio was of the same humor; and when one blamed him for his excessiue bountifulnesse, because it might be that he should be accused for it at Rome, (as he was after­ward) hee answered, That treasurers and receiuers were to make account of money; and captaines, of feats of arms, Contrariwise Cato (notwithstanding that he was a sound and a good man) yet was he blamed for the ouer-great curiositie and precise neernesse that he vsed, in causing the great trea­sures of Cipres to be conueied to Rome. Too gret spa­ring be com­meth not a great lord. Therfore in a great personage, as il-beseeming is too great thriftinesse, as too great bountifulnesse; as was to be seene in Lucullus, who rebuked the steward of his house, because he had prepared no more store of meats for his supper: And when his steward had an­swered, [Page 224] That he had so done, because he was to sup alone. That is all one (quoth Lucullus) for doe not you know that others were to sup as well as Lucullus? As who would say, That the supper of Lucullus had bin a prodigall mans feast. Also he was ouer-sumptuous in his buildings, causing moun­tains to be cut through, that the salt-water might come into his chanels. In respect wherof Pompey scoffing at him, was wont to call him the Xerxes with the long gowne; because that Xerxes at his comming into Greece, caused a bridge of ships to be made ouer the sea, & mountains to be cut through. Therefore whensoeuer we be to build a house, wee must re­member how Cicero in his bookes of Dueties teacheth vs, that it may well beseeme vs to commend the digni­tie of our estate with a faire house, howbeit so as we seeke not our reputation altogither in the costlinesse of our buil­dings, but rather that the house may be famous for his mai­ster, and not the maister for his house. Stratonicus taunting the Megarians, said, That they builded as though they should ne­uer die, and feasted as if they should no longer liue.

The honest expen [...]e of a [...]able is to be commended.The honorable expenses of a table are to be commended, so they be without superfluitie, as was the table of Cimon of Athens: who was beloued of all men, and accounted liberall, because he kept an honourable table for all commers, not furnished with dainties, but with sufficient to feed many per­sons. He clothed such as were il-apparelled, and put mony se­cretly into the hands of such as were needy. He made his house an hospitall for the nourishing and susteining of all poore citizens, hauing his hands in the meane while cleane from all maner of nipping and corruption. Pelopidas the The­bane, spared not his purse towards his friends. And Valerius Publicola, releeued the poore with his goods. Wherupon he was called by the name of Publicola Fabius Maximus cōpoun­ded with Han [...]iball for the ransome of certaine Romane pri­soners, The charitie of diue [...]s Ro­manes. that were men of seruice: Wherof when the senate had no liking, he perceiuing that he could not obtaine at their hands the mony that he had promised for the ransome of the [Page 225] prisoners, sold his owne goods to serue the turne. Tullus Ho­stilius king of the Romanes, is worthie of great praise for gi­uing a great part of his goods to the poore. And so was also Nerua Cocceius, who in the one yeare that he was emperor, gaue vnto the poore fifteen hundred thousand crowns, for the doing wherof, he sold his iewels and plate. Pomponius Atticus was princely, bountiful, and liberall, & such a one as bestowed his liberalitie to good purpose, as he well shewed in Brutus and Cassius, whom he helped not with one pennie towards the charges of their wars, as the most part of the Romanes had done: but whē he saw them go by the worse, & that they were driuen out of Rome, then sent he thē 100000 Sextercies, as a friend that aided thē at their need, when other men had for­saken them. The charitie of Gillias and Buza. Valerius maketh mention of one named Gillias a Sicilian of the citie Agrigent, who was woont to cloath and feed the poore, to bestow their daughters in mariage, to help such as were in distresse, to lodge strangers, & not to suffer thē to go away without reward: to be short, he gaue intertainmēt along while togither, to 500 men whom the sea had cast vpon that coast. Also he maketh mention of a noble lady of Pouil, named Buza, that releeued ten thousand Romans which had scaped from the battell of Cannas. The bounti­fulnesse of Hiero. Hiero king of Sicilie gaue vnto the Romanes in a time of their need, 300000 quar­ters of wheat, two hundred of barlie, and two hundred and fiftie pound weight of gold. Quintus Flamminius hauing conquered the Macedonians, discharged them of all tallages and impositions, contrarie to the manner of other conquerors, who are woont to lay burthens on the backs of them that are conquered. The [...]l [...]tei­ans. Also the Plateians did a princely and bounti­ful deed, & worthy to be had in remēbrance. For to the intent to satisfie the oracle of Apollo, which had promised the Athe­nians victorie against the Persians, so it were within their own territorie (which could not be, vnlesse the Plateians gaue them the place which they had chosen for their aduantage▪ neer the citie of Plateia) the Plateians pluckt vp the bounds of their territorie, & gaue the ground of free gift to the Athe­nians, [Page 224] to the intent that as it had bin behighted by the oracle, the Athenians might fight within their owne grounds against the Persians, to the welfare of all Greece: wherof king Alex­ander long time after had so good liking, that hauing conque­red the emperor of Asia, he caused the walles of Platea to be reedified; and in doing therof, he made it to be proclaimed by a herault, at the gamings of Olimpus, that Alexander did that grace and honor to the Plateians, in remembrance and recom­pence of their noble courage, for that in the Persian wars, they had liberally giuen their lands to the Athenians for the wel­fare of Greece; wherein they shewed themselues to be men of great courage, and wel-minded towards the defence of Greece.

Alexander was reputed the bountifullest and liberallest of all princes; but I am of opinion that Fabricius, Aristides, Lisan­der, Epaminondas, and infinite other Greeks and Romanes, had as liberal and princely hearts as he, notwithstanding that they had lesse means to vtter it. There are greatdeeds of liberali­tie to be found in the life of Alexander, and some also that passe the bounds of liberalitie; but yet the ballance weigheth most on the side of liberalitie. For he gaue to none but such as were worthie, as to men of war, to Philosophers, to men of seruice, and to men of councell, as he shewed very well in a certaine iugler, who by his subtill sleight threw a drie pease a great way off through the eye of a needle, in hope to haue obtained some great reward for his labor at the kings hands. But king Alexander making no reckoning of him, commaun­ded one to giue him a bushell of those peason to practise his feat withall. The bounti­fulnesse of Alexander matched with courtesie and cheerfulnes. The thing that seemed most beautifull in Alex­anders gifts, was the cheerfulnesse that he vsed in giuing. For the amiablenesse made his gifts the more acceptable. A cer­taine Poeonian shewing vnto Alexander the head of an ene­mie whom he had cut off, said vnto him; such a present as this should in my country be recomponced with a cup of gold. To whom Alexander answered smiling and said, Yea mary, an emptie cup, but I drinke to thee in this cup full of [Page 225] good wine, the which I giue vnto thee. One day he found a poore Macedonian driuing of his mules loden with gold. And when the mule began to faint, the muleter laid the burthen vp­on his owne shoulders and carried it a good way himselfe: but in the end, he felt himselfe so ouercharged, that he was about to cast it to the ground. Which thing Alexander beholding, said vnto him, Weary not thy selfe, but take leisure that thou maist carie it to thine own tent, for I giue it thee. Intending vp­on a time to encounter Taxilles with deeds of bountie and li­beralitie, he dranke to him at a certeine supper saieng, I drinke to thee a thousand tallēts; which are in value almost 600000 French crownes. Hee more misliked of them that would not take of him, than of them that craued of him. Among his freinds he had one named Perillus, to whom he gaue fiftie talents, to marry his daughters withall. Perillus said that ten would content him: to whom Alexander replied, It is inough for you to receiue but ten talents, but it is to little for me to giue. He had giuen his treasurer charge to giue to Anaxarchus the philosopher, Alexander pas­sed the boūds of liberalitie. whatsoeuer he asked: and when the philosopher had asked a hundred talents, which are about threescore thou­sand French crowns; the treasurer being astonished at such a demaund, told it vnto Alexander; who answered, that Anaxar­chus knew wel inough that he had a freind that both could and would bestow as much as that vpon him. Hereby it must needs be confessed that he was too lauish in his gifts, howbeit that his giuing was to such as were worthie, whereby he made his freinds too great, which thing turned to the hurt of his po­steritie For his freinds were so great, that after his death they made no reckoning of his wife, nor of his mother, nor of his children. And that was afterward found true, which his mother Olimpias had iustly warned him of afore by a letter that she wrate vnto him; I like very well (quoth she) that you should doe good to your acquaintance, and that you should hold thē in honor about you: but you make them as great as kings, and inable them to purchase themselues freinds, & to bereaue you of yours. And afore that time his father also had checked him [Page 226] for the same, saieng, Who hath put thee in hope to think, that those should be faithfull vnto thee, whom thou thy selfe hast corrupted with mony? wouldest thou haue the Macedonians to esteeme thee, not as their king, but as their briber? Let vs come to Iulius Caesar who was a great counterfetter of Alex­ander, and was reputed very liberall: and let vs see i [...] he were cōparable to Scipio, who neuer bought ne sold, and died poore with his small patrimonie, notwithstanding that he had sub­dued & sacked two mightie cities, Numance & Carthage: or vnto Lisander, a stirring man, who hauing very great means to enrich himselfe, made no account thereof; wheras on the con­trarie part, Caesar prodi­ [...]al [...]. Caesar owed more than he was woorth: insomuch that being the pretor, he said he needed three hūdred talents, (which were more than ninescore thousand French crowns) because he had nothing. And when hee sued for the high­priesthood, he wist not of what wood to make his arrows. And going out one morning to preferre his sute, he told his mother that she shuld see him that day, either highpriest, or dead. Yet notwithstanding neither the pretorship, nor the highpriest­hood, (which he made easier than it had ben aforetimes) nor the consulship, were able to suffice and discharge his expenses, without the helpe of the Gaules, by whose means he set him­selfe cleere, and bribed one part of the citie of Rome. Suetonius speaking of his liberall expenses, sayth that hee gaue a great summe of money to euery souldier of the old bands: and that after the vvarres in Spaine, hee made them two feasts; vvhereof because the first vvas not ro [...]all ynough according to his liking, he made them another more roiall within fiue daies after.

Such was the bountifulnesse of Iulius Caesar, vvhich ten­ded more to liberalitie than the other which he had vsed a­fore to get the Consulship, the Pretor [...]ship, and the High­priesthood. For the lauishnes that he had vsed at those times, sprang not from the fountaine of vertue and liberalitie, but from extreme ambition. But vvhen hee had discharged him­selfe to the cost of the Gauls, and vvas become [...]ord of the [Page 227] whole world, he might be liberall at the charges of the coun­tries that he had conquered. Verely we may well say hee did it not of his owne cost, and that it had bene much better for him and for Alexander also, to haue bene lesse liberall, so they had left their pilling and polling of the world; and that if for­tune had not fauoured them, the one of them must haue be­come a cruell tyrant, and the other a woorse cittisen than Ca­tilin; for he had bene driuen to haue raised a more dangerous insurrection in Rome to scape from his creditors, than Catilins was.

To spend prodigally of other mens goods, It is euil done to borrow vn­der vain hope. and to borrow vpon vaine hope, is a very ill kind of dealing. And it is to be considered that euery man cannot make himselfe lord of a mightie citie, as Caesar did, nor a conqueror of Asia as Alex­ander did, who maintained his prodigalitie with the sacking of Asia; for the doing whereof, he fleeced the countrie so bare, that Antigonus comming after him, said in witnesse thereof, That Alexander had reaped the full crop of it, and hee him­selfe did but gather vp the gleanings after him.

Othosilanus to win the loue of his men of warre, made a seast vnto them, and gaue euery of the vvarders a peece of monie, not ceassing for all that to bestow many rewards vpon them besides. And vpon a time being chosen an vmpire betweene two neighbours, to make them agree, he bought the land that was in controuersie betwixt them. This had bene iust, bounti­full, and liberall dealing, in one that had had wherewithall of his owne to doe it vvith: but hee did more than his abili­tie would beare, which caused him to enter into arms, and to vse force to make himselfe emperour, saieng, That hee had as leeue to be ouerthrowne in battell, and to die in the field, as among his creditors in Rome.

Bellisarius was beloued of his men of warre for his libe­ralitie, The libe [...]al [...] of [...] because he gaue them horse and armour vvhensoeuer they had lost them, so it were not through their owne fault: and in so doing, his liberalitie vvas vvell ordered.

Vitellius denied not any man his request, but was gracious [Page 228] in giuing, and made himselfe familiar with his men of warre, but all that was done to attaine to the imperiall dignitie. It was otherwise with Titus, who also denied not ought to any man, for hee was emperour by birth, and had great means wherewith to maintaine his liberalitie. In the one was seene verie great kindnesse, and true loue towards men, which was the cause of that his facilitie and liberalitie: in the other appeared ouer-great facilitie, matched with vniustice and prodigalitie, as he well shewed in his ouer-sumptuous feasts, insomuch that he could abide his owne brother to make him a feast full of all excesse, wherein there were 2000 sundrie sorts of fishes, Caligulaes pro­digalitie. and seuen thousand sorts of foules. Cali­gula was prodigall in all his feasts, he drunke vp pearles dis­solued with vineger, he would be serued with loaues of gold, and hee caused so precious ointments to bee made for his bathes, that hee was esteemed to haue surmounted all the prodigall persons of his time; saying, That it behoued a man to bee either thriftie, or an emperour. And to main­taine so excessiue expenses, he caused men that departed the world, to bequeath vnto him some part of their inheri­tance and goods, and of such as bequeathed him nothing, he disanulled their last wils. With this excessiue prodiga­litie, he was extreamly couetous, and so desirous to feele mo­ny, that he would walke bare-footed vpon heaps of coine, and when he had so done a good while, he would lie downe and wallow in it. Nero was so prodigall, that he neuer wore one gar­ment twice: but in the end, by reason of his excessiue expen­ses, he wāted wherwith to pay his men of war, & was constrai­ned to draw mony out of offices, saying to those whom he pla­ced, Sirs ye know what I need; wherin yet he was more mo­dest, than those that sell them openly at the outcrie.

Heliogabalus was extreamly prodigall, and when one bla­med him for it, he answered that he would spend all, & leaue nothing for other men to receiue after him. Was it not a good­lie sight to see an emperour in the street begging his gifts and presents, causing men to bequeath legacies vnto him vpon [Page 229] paine of disanulling their testaments, and receiuing vnmeasu­rable legacies to the preiudice of the lawfull heires. Prodigalitie is a counter­feiter of Libe­ralitie. By these examples we see what prodigalitie is, how it pretēdeth it selfe to be liberalitie vnto those that looke not neerly vnto it, be­cause the prodigall and the liberall doe both of them deale largely, howbeit with great differēce: for the one doth it with iudgment and profit, and the other without discretion. Cicero in his bookes of Duties saith, that there be two sorts of those that spend largely, whereof the one is called liberall, and the other prodigall. The liberall are such as ransome prisoners out of the hands of enemies and wightriders, or pay their freinds debts, or helpe them to marrie their daughters. And the pro­digal are they that spend their monie in feasting, to feede idle people, in rewarding fensers, and in furnishing plaies, and such other things whereof the memorie perisheth by and by after, and doth more harme than good. For (as Plutarch saith) he that first made common feasts and gaue monie to the vulgar people, was a defacer of his own authoritie, and an ouerthrower of the common-weale. He therefore that spendeth without aduisement and skill, not considering how or to whom he gi­ueth, or how his liuing is able to maintaine it: is counted a pro­digall person, which is a very dangerful vice. For it causeth a prince to take from his subiects by force, wherewith to main­taine his prodigalitie; and it is vnpossible that he which cannot husband wel his own, should husband well that which is ano­ther mans. As for the priuate person, he is soone cured of that disease, when he hath no more to spend. And here I will not passe ouer with silence, a mery conceit of Diogenes, tending to this purpose, who vpon a time asked of a prodigall man a peece of gold, as it were a French crown, or a ducat. Wherat the pro­digal person maruelling, (for Diogenes was not wont to aske a­boue a small peece of coine, such a one as a duble or a liard) desired to know why he asked so great a value: because (qd. he) at other mens hands I hope to haue oftentimes, but of you I loke for no mo but this. If a man w [...]ll be w [...]l [...]hie, he must not be too lauish. As touching them that excuse their o­uer great expenses, by the greatnes of their reuennues, let them [Page 230] vouchsafe to consider the answer of Zeno, who telleth them that by the same reason, cookes may exc [...]se their ouer-salting of their sauces, and the ouer-poudring of their meats, vnder pretence that they haue store of salt. The dutie of liberalitie consisteth in distributing a mans goods measurably, to such as haue neede: if he go beyond that, it is a vice, whether it be in the ouermuch or in the ouer little. For in the one consisteth prodigalitie, Of Coue [...]ous­nesse. and in the other nigarship, which is an incurable disease, whereas prodigalitie may be changed into liberalitie, or into nigardship; or else the lauishnes may vtterly sease, for want wherewith to vphold it. For (as saith Democritus) the de­sire of getting, (if it be not bounded by some reason) is more dangerous than extreame pouertie, because the ouergreat greedines of getting, causeth great want of al things, and is as little staunched by the comming in of abundance of riches, as a burning fire is by the casting on of wood: insomuch that on the contrarie part, the comming in of riches, doth the more sharpen the desire of hoording vp, and of coueting stil to haue▪ The Scithians on a time said thus to Alexander, What need hast thou of riches, which do enforce thee to couet euer more and more? Thou art the first that of abundance hast made pe­nury, insomuch that the more thou possessest, the more eagerly doest thou couet that which thou hast not. Plutarch in his booke of Couetousnes, Couetousnes withstande [...]h the [...] of [...]. saith that all other lusts doe helpe to­ward the assuaging of thēselues, but this vice doth euer with­stand it. For there was neuer any glutton that through gluttony forbare the pleasant morsels that hee liked, nor drunkard that through drunkennesse forbare the good wine: but the coue­tous mā through couetousnes forbeareth to touch his monie; which is as strange a thing, as if we should see a man refuse to put on a good gowne, because he quaketh for cold, or to refuse meat, because he is ready to die for hunger. Couetousnes cō ­pelleth men to get▪ and forbiddeth them to enioy that they haue gotten: it stirreth vp the appetite, and bereaueth the pleasure. In so much that the couetous person wanteth as well that which he hath, as that which he hath not. And he like­neth [Page 231] them to mules, which though they carrie great store of gold and siluer on their backs, yet they themselues doe feed vpon hay. Yet dooth not this import, that a man should not make account of money, and prouide therwith for his necessi­ties, but that it ought to be done after a reasonable maner, and of purpose to bestow it wel in due time and place. And here­vnto relieth the answer of Simonides, of whome when one de­maunded why he hoorded vp money towards the end of his old age; Because (quoth he) I had leauer to leaue my goods to mine enemies when I am dead, than to haue need of the re­liefe of my friends while I am aliue. To the same purpose Bion the Boristhenit said, that riches are the sinews of mens deeds, and that (as it is said in the prouerbe) Without goods good­nesse is maimed; that is to say, it cannot well shew it selfe. But yet must a man beware that he set not his heart too much vp­on them, ne vse them too basely, in banishing the pleasure of them, to indure all the miserie.

For it is the vse that maketh riches. It is vse that maketh riche [...] If you take your part of them, they be yours: if you reserue them for your heirs vntill that time, they be none of yours. For he that is a slaue to his money, can haue no good of his riches. But a man of vnder­standing taketh the present vse of his goods, and hee that will not vse them, is needie of all things. And as Plutarch saith in his booke of the Desire of riches, Richnesse consisteth in the not hauing of superfluous things. For niggardlinesse commeth of an inordinat coueting to haue: and we see how such as som­time had neither bread nor drinke, nor house nor home, as soone as they came to bee rich, haue occupied their minds a­bout gold and siluer, horsses, and hounds, changing the desire of things needfull, into the desire of things dangerfull, rare, hard to be gotten, and vnaccustomed. Therefore whosoeuer possesseth more than is be hooffull for him, and is still desirous of more, it is neither gold, nor cattell, nor horses, that can cure his disease, but he hath need of a vomit and a purgation. For his disease commeth not of penurie, but of vnsatiable loue of riches, proceeding of a corrupt iudgement.

[Page 232]Of this vice proceedeth robberie, Couetousnes breedeth thee [...]erie. a foule and filthie sin, ex­presly forbidden of God in the ten commaundements: how­beit that Licurgus permitted it to the Lacedemonians, to the intent they should be the warier in keeping their things, but yet they were punished for it, if they were taken with the fact.

There are that excuse their couetuousnesse by the multi­tude of their children. And soothly it is a sufficient cause to re­straine ouer-great expenses, and to hold a mans hand from sel­ling, for feare he should leaue them poore. But to pine a mans selfe for their sakes, and to hoord vp heape vpon heape to make them rich, I count it neither husbandrie nor thriftinesse, but the very desire of hauing, which we call Couetousnesse. And for that cause doth Plutarch in the same treatise of the Desire of riches, say thus; Why desire we so great riches for our children? Surely to the end that they also should conuey them ouer to their children, after the maner of conduit-pipes, which keepe not any liquor resting in them, but conuey it foorth from pipe to pipe, vntill some backbiter or some tyrant come, that cutteth off this good keeper, and breaking his conduit-pipe, conueieth the water-course of his riches ano­ther way; vntill the veriest vnthrift and naughtipacke of all his race, come and deuour all those goods alone. The goods that are hoor­ded vp by the couetous, shal be wasted by the prodigall. For as the emperor Constantine said, All the treasures that are hoorded vp by the couetous, shall be spent by the hands of the prodi­gall. But for as much as of couetousnesse commeth the desire of riches, and there is no man but he esteemeth it a great hap­pinesse to be rich, it were for our behalfe to know what rich­nesse is, and what is the meane to become rich. This question is not now first of all demaunded; for it was demaunded on a time of Socrate [...], Whom he esteemed to be the richest man? Euen that man (quoth he) that needeth fewest things; mea­ning that richnesse is to be measured by the vse of riches. And he said, That a man was thē rich, Who is rich, and who is poore. whē he had sufficient wher­with to liue honestly, accounting those to be most poore, which hauing store of goods, wanted wit and will to vse them. [Page 233] For pouertie consisteth not in the small quantitie of goods, but in the vnsatiablenesse of the mind. Cicero saith in his Para­doxes, That the fruit of riches is in the aboundance of them, and that sufficednesse sheweth that there is aboundance, and that to be contented with the goods a man hath, is the surest richnesse.

One demaunded of Alcamenes, What a prince is to doe for the wel-gar­ding of his kingdome. What means a prince should vse to keepe well his realme? The best (quoth he) is, not to set his mind vpon mony, nor to make his reuenue ouer­great. Plutarch in the life of Marcus Cato saith, There is not a more needfull prouision for them that intend to deale with the gouernment of a common-weale, than riches; but yet there is a sufficiency, which being contented with it selfe, with­out desiring particularly things superfluous, doth by that means neuer distract the partie that hath it, from minding and intending the publike affairs.

Anacharsis said, That the couetous person and the nigard, The misera­ble case of the couetous. is vnable either to conceiue any good doctrine, or to giue any good and wise counsell. Lucrece said, It is great riches, when a man liueth trimlie of the little that he hath: because that of that little, there is not any want. Horace in his twelfth Ode, saith, That a man may liue well and merrily of a little, with­out breaking his sweet sleepe through feare or hope. For the affectionat minding of riches (saith Eccles [...]asticus) pineth the flesh, and the carke therof bereaueth a man of sleepe. The same Horace writing to Crispus Salustius saith, That that man is rich, not which is a great king, but which hath his lusts in sub­iection; and that the thirst of him which is diseased with the dropsie, is not to be stanched, but by drawing the waterie hu­mor out of the veins, and by remouing the cause out of the disease. The meane to become rich. Here by it is easie to decide the other question, name­ly, By what means a man may become rich? For Socrates tea­cheth it in one word saying, Ye shal easily become rich, if you impouerish your lusts and desire. Epicurus said, That he that will make a man rich, must not increase his goods, but dimi­nish his lusts. For there is no riches so great as contentment. [Page 234] And therfore the Philosopher Crates beholding how folke did buy and sell in the market, said; These folke are counted happie, because they doe things contrarie one to another, and I thinke my selfe happie, that I haue rid my hands of buying and selling.

The true way then to become rich, is to couet nought, and to be vnmindfull of gaine, specially of vnhonest gaine; for that is no better than losse, as saith Hesiodus. For like as the li­berall man is loued of all men, (according to this saying of Salomon in the nineteenth of his Prouerbs, Euery man is a friend to him that giueth) so the couetous person is hated of all men: For the one helpeth the poore with his goods, the other is loth to giue any thing. In this respect Socrates said, that a man must not require either talke to a dead man, or a good turne of a nigard. But there is nothing so royall and princely, as to doe good vnto many, Nothing so royall as to be helpfull to many. as saith Cicero in his booke of Du­ties. And it is found, that there is more pleasure in giuing than in taking, as saith S. Paul, and also Hesiodus in his booke of Works and Daies. And Ecclesiasticus saith, Let not thy hand be open to receiue, and shut to giue. Dauid esteemeth him hap­pie, that lendeth and hath pitie of the poore, saying, That he shall euer haue wherwith to doe good without failing, but he that stoppeth his eares at the cry of the needie, shall crie him­selfe, and not be heard. The same doth Salomon also say in the xxj of the Prouerbs. And the Psalmist saith thus; I haue bin young and now am old, yet saw I neuer the righteous man forsaken, nor his seed driuen to begge their bread; but hee is still giuing, lending, and releeuing, and his of-spring is seene to grow in good fortune and foyzon. On the contrarie part, The vnrighteous shall be driuen for verie hunger to borrow, and not be able to pay; but the righteous shall haue wherwith to shew their burning charitie. Virgil in his sixth booke of Aenae­as, putteth those persons in hell, which haue done no good to their friends, kins-folke, and neighbours, but haue bin wholly wedded to their riches, without imparting them to other folks. Acheius king of Elis, was slaine by his owne subiects for [Page 235] couetousnes, & for his ouer-charging them with impositions. Ochus king of Persia, was blamed, for that by reason of coue­tousnes, he would neuer go into the country of Persland, be­cause that by the law of the realme, he was bound to giue to euery woman that had born children, one French crowne, and to euerie woman with child two. The only vice that Vespasian had, was that he was extreamly couetous, & deuised many ta­xes, & moreouer bought things to sell thē again, dealing more neerly for gain, than a poore man would haue done, which was great pitie, for this emperors other vertues were defaced by that vice, wherof princes ought to be wel ware. For as Plutarch saith, neuer shall any ciuil matter proceed wel without iustice, & without refraining from the lust & desire of getting. Couetous­nes is nought else than vniustice a [...] wickedn [...] Hereby we see, that as liberalitie is called iustice, so couetousnes is no­thing els but vniustice, the which Bion the Sophist termed the principall towne of all vngratiousnes. And Timon said, That couetousnes & ambitiō are the grounds of al mischiefe. S. Paul in his first Epistle to Timothie, calleth it, The root of all euill; & saith, That such as are wedded to it are falne from the faith. Whosoeuer hath an ambitious or a couetous mind, (saith Euripides) sauoreth not of any iust thing, neither desireth he it, and moreouer he is cumbersome to his friends, and the whole citie where he dwelleth; I am of opinion (saith the same Euripides in his Heraclides) that the righteous man is borne [...]o the benefit of his neighbour; but as for him that hath his heart turned away vnto gain, he is vprofitable to his friends, and hard to be delt with. A couetous king vndoeth his realme. Salomon is the 15 of his Prouerbs, saith, That he which is giuē to couetousnes, troubleth his own house, but he that hateth gifts shall liue: for gifts do blind the wise. And in the 29 he saith, That vnder a good king, the land shall [...]lourish, but vnder a king that is couetous, or loueth impositions, it shall soon be destroied. And in the xxiij againe he saith, Labor not to be rich, neither cast thine eies vpon the riches which thou cāst not haue. For they make thēselues wings like eagles, and flie vp into the aire, that is to say, they vanish away. Againe in the xxviij he saith, The faithfull [Page 236] man shall haue aboundance of blessings, but he that hasteth to be rich, shall not be guiltlesse, neither knoweth he what want shall befall him.

The oracle of Apollo had foretold, that Sparta should not perish, but by couetousnesse; and so it came to passe. In like maner befell it to the citie of Athens: For about the end of the wars of Peloponnesus, Amintas began to corrupt the iudges with bribes, and thence foorth they neuer prospered. No other thing was the ruine of Rome. Which thing Iugurth perceiuing, who had bribed a great part of the senat with his monie, said this; O faire citie set to sale, if a chapman were to be found for thee. Plutarch in the life of Coriolane, saith; That after that bribes began once to preuaile in the election of of­ficers, it passed from hand to hand, euen to the senators and iudges; and from the iudges to the men of war, insomuch that in the end, it caused the common-weale to be reduced to a Monarchie, and brought euen the men of arms them­selues in subiection to monie, so as the Pretorian souldiers sold the empire to them that paid faire gold for it, and proceeded so far as to set it to open sale by the drum, to him that offered most, and was the last chapman.

CHAP. V. That Gentlenesse and Courtesie be needfull in the ordering of affairs, the contraries whereunto be sternnesse and roughnesse.

OF Liberalitie proceedeth courtesie and Gentle­nesse, or rather Liberalitie proceedeth of kind­heartednesse and good will; for (as saith S. Paul in the second Epistle to the Corinthians) Rea­die good will goeth afore liberalitie. Therup­on it commeth, that ordinarilie the liberall man is kind-hear­ted and gentle, so as Liberalitie, Kindnesse, Affabilitie, and [Page 237] Gentlenes, resemble either other, and may al be reduced vn­der the name of Charitie, which cōprehendeth them all, and much more; the which S. Paule hath so discribed in the first Epistle to the Corinthians, that a man cannot tell how to adde more vnto it, saying; Charitie is patient, meeld, and gentle, she seeketh not hir owne, she enuieth not, she dealeth not fro­wardly, she imagineth no euill, Kindnesse or Kindhearted­nesse reacheth further than vprightnesse. and so foorth. Now then wee call kindnesse a certaine good will and loue towards men, and a certaine naturall goodnesse which extendeth it selfe further than vprightnesse, because nature teacheth vs to vse vpright­nesse and iust-dealing towards men only; but kindnesse and good-will sometimes euen to the brute beasts, in cherishing them when they be tired, forworne, and broken with trauell and labour in our seruice: which doing proceedeth from the fountaine of gentlenesse and kindnesse, which neuer ought to drie vp in a man. And therfore Salomon in the fourteenth of his Prouerbs, saith, That he which disdaineth his neighbour, sinneth; but he that pitieth the afflicted, is happie. And Da­uid, Blessed is he that considereth the poore in his need, or which hath a care of them which are in distresse; for surely God will relieue him when he is in distresse. We call that man gentle and courteous, which behaueth himselfe familiarly to­wards all men, and is easie to be spoken to, as were the empe­ror Titus, Philip king of Macedonia, Scipio, and many others; for ordinarilie he that is kind-hearted, that is to say, which hath a care of his neighbor, and is willing to do him good, must yeeld him his eare as well as his purse, specially seeing that of both it is the lesse to his owne cost.

There be fiue sorts of kindnesse or gentlenesse. Fiue sorts of Gentlenesse or Kindnesse. The first is, that which we terme by the generall name of kindnesse, which is a certaine meeld, charitable, and louing disposition of mind towards men; as when a man pitieth the poore, the oppres­sed, or the needie; and generally when a man behaueth him­selfe courteously towards all men, be they poore or rich, accor­ding to the example of our Maker, who delighteth to be a­mong the children of men, to doe them good. The second sort [Page 238] of kindnesse may be called Familiaritie or familiarnesse. For there be that are kind-hearted, and ready enough to do good to euery man; and yet notwithstāding they haue a certain na­tiue [...]ullennesse that barreth men frō hauing accesse to them. But they that are gentle in all points, are also meeld and easie to be delt with, persuading themselues that the way to doe men good, is to heare their requests. And they that haue intended to shew themselues yet more kind and courteous, haue gone further, as Alexander Seuerus did, who blamed his good seruants, for that they required not recompence at his hand. Some other princes to draw men the more vnto them, haue called men by their names. For it doth the subiect good, The subiect is d [...]sirous to be knowne of his prince. when he seeth that his prince knoweth him, because he gathe­reth therby that his prince loueth him. And for that cause did Cirus cal al his men of war by their names, howbeit that was a thing that could not be done without a diuine memorie. And to the same purpose I will not omit Scipioes answere to a cer­taine Romane which vaunted, that he could call mo men by their names, than Scipio could. You say true (quoth Scipio) for my studie hath not bin to know many, but to be knowne of all.

The third sort of kindnesse, consisteth in Clemencie, that is to say, in forgiuing offences, or in making light of them, which thing God hath commaunded vs in the fift chapter of saint Mat [...]e [...], and in the xxv of the Prouerbs, If thine enemie hungar (saith he) giue him bread to eat, and if he thirst giue him water to drinke, for so shalt thou heap coales vpon his head, and God will pay it thee againe. But let vs leaue the handling of this point to Diuines, and take vs againe to the examples of the heathen. It was asked to Cleomenes king of Sparta, What a good king ought to doe? To his enemies (quoth hee) all euill, and to his friends none at all. Then Aristo replying, A prince ought to [...] N [...]y sir (quoth he) how much more beau­tifull and cōmendable a thing is it, to doe good to his friends, and of his enemies to make friends? Wherof the prince rea­peth such profit, that he maketh himselfe beloued of all men. [Page 239] And therfore Traian said vnto a freind of his, That the thing which made him better beloued than his predecessors, was, that he did easily pardon such as had offended him. Agesilaus by his good doing, made those that were his enemies to be­come his friends. Augustus made one his seruant that would haue killed him. Lewis the eleuenth assaied by all means to draw those to his seruice, that had bin his enemies, if he knew them to be men of seruice; but he was moued therto more for the profit that he hoped for by their seruice, than of any meeld disposition of nature. Iulius Caesar being worthilie com­mended for his clemencie and mercie, was no sooner reconci­led to any enemies of his, but he would by and by vse them as friends; insomuch that he would euen set them at his owne table the same day. While Bibulus was in Aegypt, a certaine man killed two of his children by mischance; wherof Cleopa­tra being aduertised, sent him the two offenders with a couple of hangmen, to take such punishment of them as he listed: but he would not touch them, but sent them backe againe, say­ing, That the punishing therof belonged not to him, but to the people of Rome. When Philip king of Macedonia had lost one of his eies at the siege of Modon, he became neuer the more rigorous to his enemies for it, but receiued them to mer­cie vpon reasonable conditions. King Francis the first being dangerously wounded in the head with the stroke of a fire­brand, would in no wise be informed who it was that threw it at him, saying, That seeing he had committed follie, it was good reason he should tast his part therof.

The fourth sort of kindnesse may be called Mercie, He is to [...]e pi­t [...]ed which submitteth himselfe [...]o ou [...] mercie. when such as haue offended you doe crie you mercie. For it is Gods will that we should haue pitie vpon them that submit them­selues to our mercie, and that (as the earle of Derbie was wont to say) He that crieth mercie, should mercie haue. Plato saith, That the greatest sin which we can commit, is to vse outrage towards them that humble themselues to vs, and that he which doth such folk euill, shall neuer go vnpunished. The fift kind of kindnesse is Meeldnesse and Moderation, [Page 240] as when a prince hauing ouercome his enemies, doth vse them gently. For such dealing serueth to win the hearts both of sub­iects and of enemies.

When Alexander saw Darius dead, he fell not to daun­cing, laughing, and singing, as one that had made an end of a great war, but what did he then? he tooke off his owne cas­soke, and couered therwith the body of Darius, philosophical­ly hiding (as saith Plutarch) the royall off-spring. Alcioneus the sonne of Antigonus vnderstanding that one had cut off the head of Pirrhus, went to see it, and required to haue it; the which as soone as he had receiued, he ran to his father, and cast it downe before him. But as soone as Antigonus had seene it and knew it, he draue away his sonne with strokes of a cud­gell, calling him cruell, a murtherer, barbarous, and vnnaturall, and therupon hiding his face with his cloake, he began to crie for compassion sake, and afterward caused the head to be ho­nourably buried. Within a while after, Alcioneus met Helen the sonne of the aforesaid Pirrhus in very poore estate, appa­relled in a very simple cloake, and receiuing him courteously with gentle and amiable speeches, brought him to his father. Whom when Antigonus saw, he said to Alcioneus; My son, this deed of thine is much better, and pleaseth me far more than the other; but yet thou hast not done altogether as thou oughtest, in that thou hast not taken away this course cloke that hangeth vpon his shoulders, which doth more dis­honour to vs that haue gotten the victorie, than to him that hath lost it. Therwithall he embraced Helen, and hauing set him in good apparell, sent him home into his kingdome of Epire; and being possessed of the army of Pirrhus, he delt very courteously with all his seruants. Of the ex­cesse of Gen­tlenesse. But in Gentlenesse as in all other vertues, a man may offend in too much or too little; as they doe, which through shamefastnesse do condescend to all things; of whom Plutarch speaketh in his booke of Mis­shamefastnesse, and as soothers and slatterers doe, which sooth men in all that they say, as Gnato doth in Terence. The other sort is of them that denie all requests that are made vnto [Page 241] them, be they neuer so iust, and which through a froward dis­position of gainesaying that accompanieth them, doe encoun­ter all things that are spoken to them: or else are so rough and sterne▪ that they neuer laugh, neither can a man tell how to be acquainted with them. And so kindnes or gentlenes matched with meeldnes, is a vertue that represseth the excesse and mo­derateth the default; keeping men frō exceeding in ouermuch pliantnes, like the soother & the flatterer; and frō the default of vnpliablenes like the cloune and the churle. For oft-times ouer-great familaritie, maketh a prince to be had in contempt, and ouergreat sternnes & grauity make him odious, hard to be intreated, and not to be come vnto. Therefore it behoueth him to hold the meane, and to cōsider what may best beseeme him. For (as the Preacher saith) All things haue their times; there is a time to laugh, & a time to weepe, a time to graunt, and a time to refuse. Whether a prince ought to be meeld or sterne. The which some not considering aduisedly, doe ei­ther counsell princes to make themselues too familiar, and to deny nothing; or else to refuse all things, and in no wise to giue their subiects easie accesse vnto them: saying, that if a king make himself too gentle, & too easie to be spoken to, he shalbe despised, and consequently ill obayed of his subiects, because that ouermuch familiaritie breedeth contempt. And therfore the Englishmen, Spaniards, Turks, and Scithians, do reuerence their kings well neere as gods, and dare not prease into their presence. For they that suffer themselues to be comne vnto, do oftentimes promise more than they can perform, as Titus did, who often promised more than he was able to doe; saying that no man ought to goe away sad and discontented from the pre­sence of a prince. Insomuch that many mē allowed the apoph­thegme of Brutus, who said, That that man had mis-spent his youth, which graunted all things. Caligula made no nicenesse to denie all mens requests, saying, That there was nothing in his owne nature that he esteemed so much, as impudencie and stoutnes of denying all things. The which point the emperor Maximilian practised vpon a poore man that craued an almes of him, and told him that the emperor and he came both of [Page 242] one father, to wit of Adam, and so consequently were brethren, and therfore he desired him to deale brotherly with him and to do him some good. The emperor consented, and gaue him a small peece of siluer. Wherat when he saw the poore man discontented, hee told him that hee ought to take his gift in good woorth, saying that if euery of his brethren would giue him as much, he should be richer than he himselfe was. A cer­taine courtier whom Archelaus loued well, praied him to giue him a certaine goodly vessell: by and by Archelaus comman­ded one to giue it to Euripides. Wherat the party marueling that had craued it, receiued none other answere but this; thou art worthy to aske it and to goe without it; and he is worthy to haue it without asking. Meaning that he had giuen the courtier accesse to aske what he would, but that the goodnes of Euripides was such, as deserued some gift without asking. Philip counselled his son Alexander to behaue himselfe gently and graciously to his subiects afore he were king: for were he once king, he could not be so gracious. Deeming very wisely, that as there is not a better thing to stablish a kingdome, than the loue of the subiects, so it is very hard for him that reigh­neth, It is hard for him that reig­neth to be gentle to all men. to be gentle to all, as well because the state of a king, is subiect to enuy, as also because it cannot maintaine it selfe a­gainst it, vnlesse it punish the wicked. For it behoueth a king so to temper his goodnes and gentlenes, as therewithall he re­taine his authoritie and grauitie. For oftentimes ouer-great gentlenes causeth men to make no account of a prince. And as Plutarch saith in the life of Pericles, It is very hard for a prince to keepe a seuere grauitie, for the vpholding of his reputation, and therwithall to suffer all men to haue familiar accesse vn­to him. After the time that Pericles had the managing of the publicke affairs, he was neuer seene abroade in the streets, nor at any feasts. They that would haue a prince to be familiar, defend their cause by reasons and examples, saying that gen­tlenes maketh a prince wel beloued, well-willed, and accep­table.

For as Terence saith, he that is a man, ought to be a parta­ker [Page 243] of that which belongeth to man, that is to say, hee ought to be gentle, louing, and mercifull. And (as saith Iuuenal) na­ture hath made mans heart tender, that hee should pittie such as are distressed, who craue helpe of the prince, whose throne is vpheld by goodnesse, gentlenesse, and kindnesse, as sayth Salomon in the twentith of the Prouerbs.

Dennis the father sayd, That hee had chaines of adamant to vphold this dominion; namely, a guard of eighteene thou­sand strangers, besides his ordinary souldiers, and a great num­ber of gallies. On the contrarie part Dion said to the yoon­ger Dennis, that the cheins of adamant to assure a kingdome, Only good will maketh a kingdome sure. were neither feare nor force, nor great multitudes of men of armes, as his father had said; but the good will, heartie af­fection, fauour and loue of the subiects gotten by the prin­ces execution of Iustice. Which chains though they bee looser than the other that bee so sturdie and stifly stretched out, yet be they more firme, strong, and long lasting, to keepe and maintaine a principalitie.

Titus because hee had the perfection of gentlenesse and princely courtesie, was termed, The deintie delight of man­kind.

Plutarch sayth, that Brutus was beloued of all men, because hee was a man of a gentle and gracious nature, hauing a right intent and will, without swaruing or varieng. Philip was of so courteous conuersation, that hee got mo citties by that means than by force of arms. Alexander his sonne was gen­tle and familiar amongst his men of warre: in so much that being suddenly taken vpon a time in Asia, with such a sore tempest and cold, that there was not one in his compa­nie which fainted not; when hee saw a simple souldier of Macedonie halfe past himselfe for cold, hee arose out of his chaire where hee sate at a fire, and made the souldier to be set downe in it; whereof the souldier being aware when hee was comne to himselfe againe, by the warmth of the fire; he start vp astonished out of the chaire to excuse himselfe vnto Alexander. But Alexander with a smiling coun­tenance [Page 244] said vnto him; Knowest thou not my souldier, that you Macedonians liue after another sort vnder your king, than the Persians doe vnder theirs? For vnto them it is a deadly crime to sit in the kings chaire; but vnto thee it hath bin life. The great princes of old time [...]an­queted priua [...] ­ly with their friends. Hee banqueted oftentimes pri­uatly with his friends, and so did also king Lewis the eleuenth, notwithstanding that he was feared and drad, which thing procured him great good will. The like also did Hismaell Sophy king of the Persians, taking his repast openly in a great companie of his lords, with whome likewise hee tooke his pleasure in hunting, continuing alwaies gentle, easie to bee come vnto, and willing to heare such as were desirous to speak with him.

Iulius Caesar was fingularly beloued and liked of the com­mon people, for his gracious maner of saluting, imbracing, and conferring with all men, priuatly and familiarly. And on a time, when hee saw a friend of his sicke, hee gaue him his chamber and bed, because there were no mo beds not cham­bers in the Inne but that, and went out and lay himselfe xpon the hard ground. And whē his host one day gaue him old oile in steed of new, & they that sate at his table with him were of­fended therwith, he to saue his host frō shame, did maruelous­ly praise it, & ate more therof thā he was wont to doe. Antonie was highly esteemed & cōmended of his soldiers, because he ordinarily exercised himselfe, & ate & drāke often with them, & sent them gifts according to his power & abilitie. He was so obeyed, that in the voyage of Parthia, although the world went against him, yet notwithstanding his men of warre followed him, & neuer forsooke him, because he went to visit them from tent to tent, The visiting of the sicke. comforting the sicke & wounded with great compassion, insomuch that he could not forbeare wee­ping; whereas they on the contrarie part made good counte­nance vnto him, calling him with great reuerence, their Gene­rall, & praying him that he wold not disease himselfe for their sakes. Insomuch that his kindly simplicitie & liberalitie, his familiar manner of playing and making mirth in company; and [Page 245] specially the pains that he tooke at that time in succouring, vi­siting, and bemoning them that were sick or wounded, wrought such effect, that he made the sicke and wounded men, to con­tinue as affectionat towards him, and as resolute to doe him seruice, as those that were whole and sound. The Emperor A­drian had the good wils of the Romans, because he visited as well his enemies as his freinds that were sicke, and releeued them all that he could. Also he would goe to the houses of old and auntient folke, that by reason of their yeares could not goe abroad, of whome he would enquire how they had liued, where they had dwelled, what customes they had seene, and what distresses and dangers they had indured. By doing wher­of and by shewing charitie towards them, he profited himselfe, because that oftentimes, he serued his owne turne in matters that befell him, by the examples which those good old folke had told him of the time forepast. Cimon was greatly accepted of the common people for his plaine dealing, and for the same was aduanced to great offices. Contrariwise Nicias for his ouer­great sternnesse and hardnesse to be acquainted with, was en­uied of most men, and but for his great vertue and integritie, which caused men to reuerence him and feare him, he could neuer haue weelded his affairs as he did. Lucullus for want of behauing himselfe courteously and gently inough to his soul­diers, and for want of skill to entertaine them, could not make an end of his wars, which he had so happily begun, and brought almost to the point of perfection. For his souldiers became heady, and would not follow him. Dion was blamed, not only of the Sicilians, but also euen of Plato, for his manner of dealing, in speaking more roughly vnto such as sued vnto him, than the state of his affairs could beare. The Macedoniās forsooke De­metrius, because he was vneasie to be delt with, and very hard to be spokē to. Coriolanus was hated of the people for his stern­nesse, notwithstanding that he was a wise captaine. Contrari­wise Alcibiades, notwithstanding that he was full of vice, yet was he welbeloued and esteemed of all men, for his courteous behauiour towards all sorts. Among the good parts that were [Page 246] in Aristides, one of the best account was, that he could wel skil to win and alure mens hearts vnto him, which thing (saith Plu­tarch) cōmeth of gentlnesse: but as for grauitie, it is accompani­ed with solitarines, that is to say, such kind of men haue few to follow them, and are forsaken of all men. The gentlenes of Pompey was so great, that he contented al men that spake with him: insomuch that euen they that complained vnto him, of the wrongs done vnto them by his freinds and seruants, were persuaded to beare them patiently; so greatly did he content them. And that was the very thing, that procured him so ma­ny honorable offices of great charge. Suetonius reporteth Au­gustus to haue ben so gentle, that he caused his dores to stand open to as many as would come and salute him, and receiued their petitions with such meeldnesse and courtesie, that after a smiling maner, he reproued one for making too much nicenes in preferring his sute vnto him, as though he had shewed a peece of coine to an Elephant. The people of Rome purposed to haue kept Crassus by force, from going to make war against the Parthians. Which thing Crassus fearing, praied Pompey to accompanie him. When the people saw Pompey comming be­fore him, with a smiling countenance and amiable looke, they were altogether appeased, and opened themselues to make way for him to passe. Yet notwithstanding hee could not al­waies hold his natiue gentlenesse of his: for the honourable offices of great charge which he had, made him often-times too graue. Crassus being of lesse au­thoritie than Pompey, got the fauour of the people a­gainst him by Gentlenesse and Courtesi [...] In so much that Crassus by behauing himselfe low­ly and courteously, and by admitting men easily to his speech, doing pleasure with good will, to as many as sought it, defen­ding his friends in places of iudgement, lending monie to such as stood in need, and assisting and furthering such as sued for offices; made himselfe in the end more acceptable than Pom­pey, who towards the end of his life altering his naturall gen­tlenesse into a certaine s [...]ueritie, became more difficult to bee spoken to, and did lesse for his friends. And although Crassus had not the like authoritie and reputation, yet notwithstan­ding he obtained his sutes, and most commonly preuailed a­gainst [Page 247] Pompey. Pyrrhus is highly commended for his gentle­nesse and familiaritie with his houshold folke and friends. Plu­tarch saith of him in his life, that hee had woon the good fa­uour of the people of Sicilie, by speaking more graciously than any other had done: and that afterward when he fell to be rigorous and sharpe, he soone lost the realme of Sicilie. As soone as he went about to compell the Tarentines to the dis­cipline of warre, by and by he lost their hearts. Cimon by his gracious speeches, and by his gentle harkening to the Greeks, recouered the principalitie of Greece out of the hands of the Lacedemonians. Contrariwise, Lisander king of Lacedemon, by his hard dealing caused the confederats of Greeks to de­part from the Lacedemonians, and to allie themselues with the Athenians.

Plutarch reporteth that the gentlenesse of Quintus Flami­nius, was the cause that the Greeks submitted themselues to the Romans; for had he not bene meeld, gentle, & tractable, vsing reason rather than force, Greece would neuer haue sub­mitted it selfe to the dominion of the Romans.

Totilas hauing many prisoners of the Roman campe, The gentlnes of Totilas drue the soul­diers to him that had war­red against him. hand­led them so courteously, and with so good entertainment, that many of them did put themselues in his pay, for the courtesies sake which they knew to be in him. Demetrius did a deed of great courtesie to the Athenians, when they had rebelled a­gainst him; for when he had ouercome them, he gaue them a great quantitie of corne, whereof they had then need, and in his offering it vnto them, committed a solicisme, wherof being reproued by one of thē, he said that for that correcting of his speech, he would giue the people as much corn more; shewing therin his goodnes toward the vanquished, and his gentlenes and meeldnes towards his corrector. Paulus Iouius speaking of Lewis Sforcia, who of a gouernour vngraciously made himselfe duke of Millan, saith he was very courteous (which thing wan him the good wil of the people) and redie to admit such to his presence & hearing, as sought it at his hand. He saith as much of Lawrence Medicis, who could well skill to win the hearts of [Page 248] the Florentines, by gracious speeches, courtesie, and meeld­nesse. And likewise of the Marquis of Mantua, who appeased a mutinie that was betweene the Italians and the Almans. For the Almans regarded him for his gentlenesse, because hee kept company with the meane souldiers in vncredible famili­aritie, and yet notwithstanding held his honour as generall of the host. Bellisarius was beloued of all men for his gentlenesse, because the poore as well as the rich had accesse vnto him, and he imparted himselfe equally to all men. The Cardinall of Medices (who afterward was Pope Leo) by giuing courte­ous intertainment vnto all the Florentines that had to doe at Rome, and by admitting them fauorably to his speech, made the Florentines to forget the hatred which they had borne vnto his brother Peter, and so by conforming himselfe in qua­lities agreeable to his citizens, opened the passage for his fa­milie, to enter into the citie of Florence. The constable of France vsing the like fashion at the campe before Auinion, and talking by the way eft with one and eft with another, did by that means draw to obedience a troupe newly assembled of sundrie and diuerse nations.

Men are to be tuned by gentle means as well as brute beasts. Fabius was wont to say, That he maruelled that men delt better with horses, hounds, and other beasts, in taming them by gentlenesse, than with men; for euen by faire and gentle means, are froward men also to be woon and tamed. And we ought not to be more hard-harted towards them, than hus­bandmen are towards wild vines, who doe not cut them vp for their harshnesse, but doe make them become sweet by grassing them. And euen so must euill men be by benefits ap­peased, and good men by the same means be maintained. Cle­omenes said, That the pampering of men with monie was grosse, void of policie, and full of vniustice; and that to his seeming, the most honourable and the most royall means, was to allure them by courtesie of delightful entertainment and communication, wherin both grace and faithfulnesse went matched togither. For he was of opinion, that there was none other difference betweene a friend and an hireling, but that [Page 249] the friend is gotten and kept by gentlenes of nature and good vsage, The tyrant that is a cow­ard, is most cruell and su­spicious. and the hireling is caught by mony. Herevnto we may ad that which Plutarch saith in the life of Artaxerxes, namely, That the tyrant which is most coward, is most cruel and thir­stie of blood. And contrariwise there is no man more gentle and kindhearted, or lesse suspicious, than the valiant and har­die man. And therfore the beasts that are not to be tamed, are commonly cowards and fearfull; wheras on the contrary part, those that be noble and full of courage, doe thinke themselues sure, and acquaint themselues with man, because they be void of feare, and refuse not the allurements and familiar vsages, which man proffereth vnto them. Euen so when princes yeeld themselues gentle to their subiects, their subiects also by that means become meeke towards them, in hope that their king will hearken to them, whensoeuer they request it. And that kind of demeanour is oftentimes a cause that the courtiers keepe themselues in right mind, for feare least they should be complained of to the prince, if they doe amisse. And the princes that deale otherwise, are subiect to this say­ing of Dioclesian the emperour, That onely the emperour knoweth that which he should not know, and is ignorant of that which hee should know; because there are three or foure about him, which keepe him from knowing the truth. But to eschew the falling into this inconuenience, Antonie the meeke, one of the best emperors that euer was, gaue easie ac­cesse vnto his presence, and willed that his pallace gates should be open euery day, to all such as listed to come in, to craue iustice of the emperor; as I haue said alreadie in the ti­tle of Iustice. Moreouer he had good and discreet men about him, of whom he would enquire in secret what men reported of him, and if he found that their speaking euill of him was for iust cause, he endeuored to amend his fault. And therfore it is better that a prince should be too gentle, than too slerne; howbeit, that it is to be considered, that the excesse in any of both waies, cannot be without vice, and that as well in this as in all other things, the best is to be followed, which is [Page 250] the meane, in matching grauitie and gentlenesse togither; as the Athenians said of Pericles, that no mans nature could be more moderated in grauitie, nor more graue with meeldnesse and gentlenesse, than his was. And as Gueuara saith in his first booke, Princes ought to endeuor to get the good wils of men by courteous conuersation, and also to be feared and re­douted for their maintaining of good iustice, as we read of Li­berius Constantine the emperor, who was both feared of many, and loued of all.

Plutarch in the life of Phocion saith, That too rough se­ueritie, as well as too meeld gentlenesse, Too great gentlenesse and too great seueritie are both verie dangerous. is a verie slipperie and dangerous downfall; and that the middle way of yeelding sometimes to the peoples desire, therby to make them the more obedient otherwise, and to grant them the thing that doth delight them, therby to require of them the things that are for their profit, is a wholsome meane to rule and gouerne men well, who suffer themselues to be led to the executing of good things, when too lordly authoritie is not vsed ouer them. Therefore when maiestie is mingled with courtesie, there is no harmonie so perfect & musick-like as that. For it is the thing wherin the prince may resemble God, God enfor­ceth [...] to obedience. who enfor­ceth not vs to any thing, but doth sweeten the constraint of obedience, with demonstration and persuasiō of reason. Chilo said; That princes must match gentlenesse with puissance, to the intent they may be the more reuerenced and feared of their subiects. For this reuerence is accompanied with loue, but feare is accompanied with hatred. Now it is both more sure & more honourable to be loued than to be feared. Ther­fore a prince must moderat his behauiour in such sort, as he may be neither too much feared of the meaner sort, nor too much despised of the greater. For to be too much feared of his subiects, belongeth vnto a tyrant. But yet must he also beware that he be not despised of the great, he must keepe his estate, & be graue, howbeit, such grauitie as is accōpanied with gen­tlenes, so as when he is abroad he shew a princely maiestie, & when he is to heare requests, he shew himselfe affable & easie [Page 251] to be delt with. After that maner did Iulius Casar behaue him­selfe in his dictatorship, but that was to his own ouerthrow, be­cause he had taken vpon him that preheminence by force of arms, and had altered the state of the citie, He that alte­reth a state, must haue force to make men feare him, vntill he be surely set­led in his ty­rannie. in which case it is more safety for a prince to be feared than to be loued. For it cānot be but that the prince which hath changed a state, hath many enemies. Augustus his successor was better aduised than he, for at the beginning he was cruel, & put those to death whō he thought able to impeach his doings at any time after. But whē he once saw himselfe throughlie setled in his tyranny, & that the most part of the citizēs that had bin brought vp in li­bertie were dead, then began he to be a gentle, affable, & grati­ous prince. Antigonus did the like in the beginning of his raign, dealing roughlie at the first, & afterward becōming meeld and gentle. A new domi­nion is to be gotten by force, and to be maintai­ned by gen­tlenesse. And whē it was asked of him, Why he had altered his maner of dealing? he answered, That at the beginning he nee­ded a kingdome, & now he wanted but fauor and good wil, be­cause a new dominiō is gotten by force of arms, & by austeritie, but it is maintained by loue and good will. But in lawfull kings loue is more auailable than feare. The kings of France de­meane themselues better in that behalfe than all other kings. For their attendance representeth a great maiestie, & yet not­withstanding no man is barred frō preferring his sute vnto him after he is out of his chāber, specially in the morning when he goeth to masse, where certain masters of requests attēd vpon him, & deliuer him the petitions that are brought vnto them. There is a kind of gentlenes that is hurtfull to a prince, To be ouer-easily intrea­ted may be hurtfull. and his granting of euerie mans request, may breed manie great inconueniences. For by graunting some point of fauour in case of iustice, wrong is done: and by graunting monie, the prince his purse is emptied, whereby hee is driuen to take where he ought not, or else where he can. The lawes of France haue well remedied that matter. For the king hath set downe by his ordinance, that he will not haue his letters re­garded which concerne not iustice, & for the view of thē he referreth himselfe to his iudges, for his checker matters: more­ouer, [Page 252] there is his court of parliament, and a chamber of ac­counts which controlleth the kings gifts: so as no man can go away discontented from him, because he granteth all things that are demaunded of him, and yet those gifts are without ef­fect, wherof the ministers only doe beare the disgrace, as Ma­chiauell hath very well marked in his booke of Princes. And so long as this law stood in force, the affaires of France did alway prosper.

Now let vs speake of Enuie, Of Enuie. which extendeth it selfe fur­ther than roughnesse or austeritie, which properly is contrary to Gentlenes and Courtesie. For the rough & sterne person is contrarie to the gentle and kind-hearted, as Terence teacheth vs in his comodie of the Bretherē, vnder the persons of Mitio and Demea. But Enuie containeth in it churlishnesse, hatred, ambition, & man-slaughter, according to the saying of S. Iohn Chrisostom vpon the xxvij of Genesis, where he saith, That En­uie is the root of man-slaughter, and man-slaughter is the fruit of enuie.

S. Ambrose in his Duties, maketh no great difference be­tweene the wicked and the enuious, saying, That the wicked man delighteth in his owne welfare, and the enuious man is tormented at the welfare of another: the one loueth the euil, & the other hateth the good; so as he that desireth the good, is more tollerable than he that would the mischiefe of all men. Enuie then is nothing else but a sorinesse conceiued at the prosperitie of another man.

Bion the Boristhenit speaking to a certaine enuious man, whom hee saw sad, said vnto him; I cannot tell whether some harme hath happened to thy selfe, or some good to some other bodie. For Enuie is not sorie for another mans harme, but contrariwise is glad of it. The Greeks call it, Epicaireca [...]ian, as ye would say; A ioying and reioicing at other mens harmes. Themistocles said; Hee had not yet done any thing woorthie of praise, seeing that no man enuied him. Hereby we see, that as charitie extendeth further than gentlenesse, so enuie extendeth further than hatred, which [Page 253] seemeth contrarie to loue and charitie. The differēce betweene ha­tred and En­uie. For enuie (as Plutarch teacheth vs in his booke of Enuie and Hatred) neuer depar­teth from those whom it hath once caught hold of, neither in prosperitie nor in aduersitie: wheras hatred vanisheth away in the extremitie of either fortune. Furthermore, when a man is persuaded that he hath receiued no wrong, or taketh an opi­nion that those whom he hateth as wicked persons, are be­come honest men, or if they haue done him some such plesure as is a cause to dissolue the former iniurie, the hatred ceasseth. But as for the enuious person, although no man do him harme, yet ceasseth he not to be spitefull. And if he see an honest man, or a man of good qualities, or if he receiue a good turne, it doth but prouoke him the more to enuie, so as he is exas­perated by the things wherby hatred is assuaged. Enuie is vn­determinable. Enuie is vn­determinable, and resembleth diseased eies, which are of­fended at all brightnesse and light. But hatred is determina­ble, and is alway founded and setled vpon certaine grounds, in respect of it selfe. By enuie came death into the world, for through Satans enuie were we deceiued, through that deceit became we disobedient, and through that disobedience came death vpon vs. It is a very perilous vice, which seazeth not on­ly vpon mens states and liuings, but also vpon their liues, as wee read of Abell, who was murthered through the enuie of Cain; and of Ioseph, who was sold through the enuie of his bretheren. Saint Iohn Chrisostome in his 44 Homilie, saith; That this vice in respect of other vices is vnexcusable: The sin of Enuie is vnex­cusable. for the lechor excuseth himselfe by lust, the theefe by pouertie, and the man-slear by choler; but the enuious man can find no ex­cuse at all God commaundeth vs to loue our enemies, and the enuious man hateth euen his friends. And in his fiue and for­tith Homilie, and likewise vpon the one and twentith of Ge­nesis, he saith; That as the worme marreth the timber wher­in it breedeth, afore it goe out; euen so doth enuie marre the man. Antisthenes said, That as rust eateth yron: so the enui­ous are consumed by the fretting of their owne enuie. For the enuious (saith Horace) pineth away at the prosperitie [Page 254] of another. And Alexander said vnto Meleager, That the enuious man carrieth his owne torment with him. Salomon in the fourteenth of the Prouerbs, saith, That as a sound heart is the life of the bodie, so enuie is a consumer of the bones. Plutarch likeneth enuie to smoke, For afore the flame breake out, it mounteth vp great, but as soone as the flame sheweth it selfe, the smoke vanisheth by little and little, and in the end is no more seene. Plato in his booke of Lawes, saith; That the enuious man imagining to vaunt himselfe the more by finding fault with others, can neuer attaine to true vertue, and is a hinderer of those whom he spighteth, by the wrong­full slaunders which hee reporteth of them. Plutarch in the life of Lisander, saith; that in the pursute of vertue, the enui­ous and ambitious men doe hold those for their aduersaries whome they might and ought rather to serue and helpe, in the doing of great and goodly things. For through their iea­lousnesse of glorie, they commonly enuie their like. Where­vpon commeth this saying of Martiall, That there no ac­count is made of them that are aliue.

It is Enuie that causeth vs to esteeme more of men of old time, than of men now liuing. And as Ouid saith, We take no pleasure in reading mens books, vntil the authours of them be dead, because enuie hath accustomed vs to wound the li­uing with venemous tooth. For enuie feedeth vpon vs so long as wee be aliue, but be we once dead she ceasseth, and then is praise giuen according to desert. Some man will say, that this discourse may well be directed to common persons, Whether a prince be subiect to Enuie. but princes are out of enuies reach. For if a prince be enuied, it cannot hurt him; and therewithall he is too great to beare enuie to his subiects. The enuie that Saule had vnto Dauid, for fighting with Goliah, sheweth sufficiently that kings are not exempted from enuie. For albeit that he receiued right great good by that deed of Dauids, yet notwithstanding for as much as he was blinded, and as it were drunken with enuie, he held him being his benefactor as his enemie. Abimelech was a king and a great lord, and yet when he saw Isaak a stranger prosper [Page 255] and grow rich in his realme, he draue him out. When Laban saw Iacob his son in law growne richer than himselfe, he could not afterward giue him a good looke. Wherfore it is not to be douted, but that a prince may be enuious, & also be enuied, & therby receiue harme. For man, whatsoeuer he be, the more goods & power he hath, the more enuie beareth he on his back. Denni: the tyrāt kept himselfe not only frō his enemies, but also frō his friends, yea euen from the wisest of thē, saying that there was none of them which had not rather raign than serue. Had D [...]on & Iulius Caesar done as he did, it had bin the better for thē: but they said, they had leuer die than to distrust their friends. And ye must not thinke that a prince can be pri­uiledged frō being enuious, as who wold say, there were no per­son whō he could or ought to enuie, for enuie is a disease of the mind, as wel as iealousie is. The iealous person forgoeth not his iealosie by hauing a discreet wife, that giueth him no occasion to misdout her, for he is iealous of all that he seeth: euen so the enuious man must needs feed his own fancie, though there be no apparent matter wherwith. Othanes said that kings do enuy good men, yea & hate them deadly, & that vertue is cōmonly hated of kings. His so saying was to serue his turne in pleading against regalitie, as I haue said in the 1 booke. For a good king loueth vertue & vertuos folk, but an euill king doth both hate & enuie thē. Wherto enuie serueth. And as Manlius said in Titus Liuius, Enuie serueth but to speake euil of vertue, to deface the honor therof, and to bereaue it of reward. Plutarch saith in the life of Cato, That all the great men were enemies to Cato, because they saw him to be vpright in iustice, & they were ashamed of their own vniu­stice. This was but an enuie that they bore vnto Cato, The Enuie o [...] Caligula ▪ & ther­fore they were enemies vnto him. Caligula was desirous of his own ease, & yet was he enuious toward those that were at ease as wel as he. In the voiage that he made into Germany, so ha­stilie that the ensigns were folded vp & caried vpon sumpter-horses, that the bāds might march with the more speed, albeit that himselfe went in a goodly couch, and made plain paths all the way that he went, yet notwithstāding he wrat vnto Rome [Page 256] that seeing he was in such danger, and readie to giue battell, he maruelled that they gaue themselues to feasting, to haunting of the theatres, and to make pastimes in the fields and gar­dens. This doing of his proceeded of nothing else, but of an inordinat and vnreasonable enuie, that fretted his braine, the which he shewed sufficiently towards the noblemen, in berea­uing thē of their cote-armors, and of the antient cognisances of their houses. And if hee spied any faire boies that had faire haire, he caused the hinder parts of their heads to be shauen. And he was so spitefull, that he enuied euen Homer, the grea­test Poet that euer was: insomuch that being determined vp­on a time to abolish the remembrance of him, he said he might well haue as much power as Plato, to weed him out of his com­mon-wealth.

Alexanders enuie was the chiefe cause of the death of Clitus. The inconue­niences of Enuie. For hee so enuied the high exploits of Philip his fa­ther, that he fell into a rage when any man compared him with him. Lisander accompanying Agesilaus in the voaige in­to Asia, was so honored of the men of Asia, because he had had the gouernment of them aforetimes, that in comparison of him, they made no reckoning of the king: by reason wherof, Agesilaus bare him such enuie, that in all that voiage he com­mitted not any honourable charge vnto him, but emploied him about such things as a man would not haue emploied the meanest of Sparta, and it was thought that that would haue cost the citie of Lacedemon deerly: For had not death pre­uented Lisander, he would haue ouerthrowne the king. Enuie made Socrates to be put to death; and Aristides, Themistocles, and others to be banished. Also it was the death of Coriolane, because the chiefe princes of the Volses enuied his vertue and his greatnesse. And by his death, the Volses were van­quished of the Romanes. Through enuie, Dion was slaine by Calippus; and Sertorius by Perpenna: and by their death were they themselues vanquished and disappointed of the fruit of their former enterprises. The enuie that was rooted betweene Themistocles and Aristides, hindered the Athenians from doing [Page 257] many goodly enterprises; insomuch that Themistocles said, that it was vnpossible for the affairs of the common-weale of A­thens to prosper, vntill they were both of them cast into the barather, which was a deepe dungeon, whereinto men were throwne headlong, that were condemned to death. And no doubt but the affairs of Greece had gone to wrack, if Aristides had continued his enuie against Themistocles. But when he saw the danger whereinto all Greece was like to fall, if hee and Themistocles did not agree: he bespake him after this manner; Themistocles, if we be both wise, it is high time for vs to leaue the vaine spight and iealosie which we haue hitherto borne one against another, and to take vp a strife that may be to the honor and welfare of vs both; that is to wit, which of vs shall doe his dutie best for the safegard of Greece; you in com­maunding and doing the office of a good captaine, and I in counselling you and in executing your commandements. Hereunto Themistocles answered: I am displeased Aristides in this, that you haue shewed your selfe a better man than I; but sith the case standeth so, that the honor of breaking the yce is due to you, for prouoking me to so honourable and commen­dable a contention: I wil strain my selfe henceforth, to out go you by good continuance. The enuie that was borne to Peter Saderin Gonfa [...]nnier of Florence, for the great credit and au­thoritie that he had in that citie, caused the returne of the Me­dices, and the vtter ruine of the common-weale.

Now we must consider what remedies there be, to defend a man from this maladie, Remedies a­gainst enuy. that a man may not be enuious, nor enuied. As touching the first, the curing therof is by the con­trarie, that is to say by being meeld, gentle, and charitable: for he that loueth men, cannot enuie them. And that is the cause why we be commanded to loue our neighbor as our selues, to the end we be not enuious against him, but rather glad when he hath good successe in his affairs. And (as S. Paule saith in the 12 to the Romans, Reioice with them that reioice, and weepe with them that weepe; and beare well in mind, that enuie doth more harme to the enuious man himselfe, than to [Page 258] the partie whom he enuieth, remembring how Salomon in the seuenteene of the Prouerbs saith, That he which reioiceth at another mans fall, shal not be vnpunished. And in the four and twentith of the Prouerbs he saith, Reioice not whēthine ene­my hath a fall, neither be thou glad that he stumbleth: least perchance the Lord doe see it and be displeased therat, and turne away his wrath from him. If this be spoken of enemies, what ought we to do concerning freinds? I will not alledge the infinit precepts and examples touched by Diuines. I will take but the only example of the Heathen Aristides, of whom I haue spoken. When his enemie Themistocles was banished, he neither spake ne did any thing to his preiudice or disaduātage, neither reioiced he any more to see his enemie in aduersitie, than if he had neuer enuied his prosperitie. How to es­chew en [...]y. Enuie is eschewed or diminished by modestie, as when a man that is praised, cha­lengeth not such honour to himselfe, but referreth it ouer to those that praise him. Wherof we haue example in Pirrhus, who after many victories, when his men of war called him Ea­gle, I am (qd. he) an eagle by your means, being caried vp by your knighthood and chiualrie, as the eagle is caried vp by his fethers: and so he cast back the honor and title to his men of war. So also did Philip abase the praise that was giuen vnto him for his beautie, his eloquence, and his good skil in hunting; say­ing, that the one belonged to women, the other to sophists, and the third to sponges. Othersome doe attribute this answer to his enemie Demosthenes. Contrariwise, Alexander for enforcing men to worship him, and to esteeme him as a god, began to be hated in his campe. Augustus disallowing al such doings of A­lexander, did the cleane contrarie. For when he was entred in­to Rome in triumph, as lord of the whole world in peaceable possession, and one in a certaine comedie said, O good lord, and euery man turned that word vnto Augustus, flattering him and clapping their hands for ioy: he gaue a token presently that he liked not of it, and the next morning made prohibitions, that men should not vse the terme of lord vnto him, neither per­mitted he any man, no not euen his owne children, to call him [Page 259] by that name, either in iest or in good earnest. There is another way to auoid enuie, which was practised by Dennis the tirant; which is, that he aduanced a man that was wicked and hated of the people: and when he was asked why he did so; because (quoth he) I will haue a man in my realme, that may be more hated than my selfe. Caesar Borgia to auoid the enuie of his cru­ell deeds, did put the partie to death by whom he had execu­ted the same, to the end that the enuie should light vpon his minister, and die with him. For such is the disposition of the common people, that they can the better indure a hard prince, when they haue vpon whom to discharge their [...]urie. Alcibiades to auoid the ouer great enuie of the people, and to turne aside the euil speeches that they had of him, did cut off the taile of a dog that he had bought very deere, and draue him through the citie, to the intent to busie mens heads about talke of his dog, and not about other matters. For they that set their minds vpon small things, are not so enuious as they that deale in great matters.

CHAP. VI. That Modestie or Meeldnes wel beseemeth a prince, and that ouerstatelinesse is hurtfull vnto him.

THere is yet one vice more that maketh a prince irkesome, and vneasie to bee delt with; and likewise one vertue that maketh him gentle and easie to be comne vnto: the one is Pride, and the other is Lowlinesse or Humilitie. Pride maketh him sower, waiward, cholericke, ambitious, enuious, vnpa­tient, hard to beleeue counsell, & full of vniustice. For arrogan­cie is a spice of vniustice, exacting more honor at mens hands than is due, whereupon riseth the despising of them, as Chriso­stome hath very well noted vpon the fourth Psalme of Dauid. The other maketh a man courteous, gentle, patient, and free [Page 260] from all euill. Prouerb. 11. Therfore humilitie maketh a man wise & wis­dome maketh a prince to gouerne his people well. On the contrarie part, nothing is so much against wisdome, as ouer­weening is. For the proud man is so farre in loue with himselfe, that he cannot in any wise endure any man to be equall with him in vertue or power. And because that cannot be; needs must enuie issue out of that spring. And because he is of so small patience, and esteemeth none but himselfe, the least thing in the world setteth him in a choller; wheras the lowli­minded man, hauing small opinion of himselfe, and beholding his owne infirmitie, is not so easilie in a chafe with his neigh­bour, as saith S. Chrisostome in his Homilie of Fasting. The lowly is at rest both in bodie and mind, but the proud man hath no rest in neither of both. And therfore our Lord saith thus, Learne of me, for I am meeke and lowlie of heart, and you shall find rest vnto your soules. And among the blessed­nesses, he setteth this for most in S. Mathew, saying, Blessed be the poore in spirit; that is to say, the lowly minded, vnto whose praier he hearkeneth. Of whom shal I haue regard (saith he) but of the meek & lowlie? Lowlines then is the root of al ver­true, & pride is the ground of all sin, as saith the Preacher: He that holdeth of it s [...]albe filled with cursednes, & it shal ouer­throw him in the end.

S. Austin in his fourth booke of the Citie of God, calleth pride, A Definition of Pride. a froward lust or desire to be great: so as we may define pride to be a certaine ouer-lo [...]tinesse of mind, that maketh vs to despise euerie man, & to esteeme none but our selues. This sin cōmeth of self-soothing, & of too much selfeloue, as S. Pe­ter hath noted, in that he calleth the proud man a Selfe-plea­ser, because he which is in loue, is blinded in him whom he lo­ueth, as saith Plato in his Laws: wherby it cōmeth to passe, that the man that is in loue with himselfe, thinking that he ought to be more honored, than in truth he ought, deemeth euil of that that is righteous, good, & faire. Therfore he that is desirous to be great (saith he) must not be in loue with himselfe, but with the thing that is iust, whense soeuer it come. This sinne ma­keth [Page 261] him to imagine his ignorance to be wisdome: and when we will not forbeare to doe that vnto another, which we can­not doe; we be constrained to faile in doing it. And he conclu­deth in the end, that we must refraine from louing our selues too much, God abhor­reth all lof [...] ­nes of heart. & follow our betters without restraint of shame▪ Sa­lomon in the sixteenth of the Prouerbs, saith that the Lord ab­horreth all loftines of heart; and in the xv, That he breaketh downe the houses of the proud. There is no health in the house of the proud, for the seede of sin is rooted in them. And in the seuenteenth of the Prouerbs, Loftines of hart (saith he) presup­poseth a fall, but lowlines and humilitie goe before honor and glorie. And in the nine and twentith, the pride of a man aba­seth him, but glory and honor shall be heaped vpon the lowli­minded. And in the tenth of Ecclesiasticus, God hath cast downe the seats of the proud, and in their steads hath made the meeke to sit in their rooms. God hath dried vp the roots of the proud, and in their place hath planted the humble in glorie. And in the eighteenth Psalm, Thou wilt let the lowly liue in thy protection, & the springs of the presumptuous thou wilt drie vp. On the contrarie part, the lowly and meeke shall inherit the earth, and without trouble they shall haue all the pleasure that man can get. And in the 40 Psalme, Blessed is the man that maketh God his defence, and hath no regard of the proud. King Lewis the eleuenth said, That whē pride rode foremost, shame and losse followed after. Esdras is specially commended of the angell, for his humbling of himselfe as he ought to doe, and for that he deemed not himselfe greatly worthy to be glorified among the righteous. But as for them that haue walked in great pride, they shall haue great store of miseries. The angell would not suffer St. Iohn to worship him, saying that he was a seruant of God, as he was; and bearing in mind that for the vice of pride the wicked angels fell. St. Peter did as much to Cornelius the Centurion, not suffering him to kneele down before him. VVhereof pride cōmeth This vice commeth of the want of iudgment, that is to say, of the want of knowing a mans selfe, and of the want of the bearing in mind of the goodly precept [Page 262] written in the temple of Apollo at Delphos, whereof I haue spoken so oft afore. For as the great Mercurie sayth, The first disease of the mind is Forgetfulnesse. And the man that for­getteth himselfe, is compared to the vnreasonable beasts, and becommeth like them, as Dauid saith in the 48 Psalme. The prince therefore must descend into himselfe, and know him­selfe. To know himselfe is to view the nature, as well of his bo­die as of his soule, and to cōsider that he is no better but man, as Dauid saith. For whosoeuer knoweth what hee is, will be­ware that he forget not himselfe, and not suffer himselfe to be cast into sin, the which Bion the Boristhenit did rightly affirme to be a hinderance to profit, and a more hinderāce to the fruits of righteousnesse. Pride a hinde­rance to al the fruits of righ­teousnesse. For if we speake of becomming righteous to Godward, we cannot attaine thereto, but by Humilitie. The lowly heart and repentant soule, are an acceptable sacrifice vn­to God, as witnesseth vnto vs the parable of the Publicane, who went home iustified by humilitie, and for acknowledging himselfe a sinner, in accusing himselfe to God, of which accu­sation ensewed immediatly reward, cleane contrarie to the iudgements of men, vvho vpon accusation and confession, doe by and by giue death. And therfore that we may be iustified, vve be commanded to tell our sinnes: and in old time (as Ma­crobius reporteth) the priest afore he made sacrifice to his idols confessed that he vvas a sinner, and thereat began his ceremo­nies, as we also doe in our religion. Our Lord commaunded his disciples to say, that vvhen they had done all maner of good, they vvere vnprofitable seruants; to the end they should not seeme to haue any trust in their good vvorks. Wherewith a­greeth the doctrine of Plato the heathen Philosopher, Who­soeuer (saith he) vvill be good, must beleeue that hee is euill, He that wil [...]e good, must be­leeue himselfe to be euill. Philo expounding the lawes of Moses, which ordaine aboue all things, That men should abstaine from Pride, telling vs that it is only God that inableth vs to vtter our power; saith that he which hath receiued strength and power of Gods meere gift and bethinketh himselfe of the weakenes that was in [...]im afore he enioied that grace, wil put away that prowd stomack, [Page 263] and yeeld thanks to him that is the cause of his better state. Now then, the mind that acknowledgeth the grace that is giuen vnto him, is enemie to pride: whereas the vnthankfull is linked in with pride. Salomon forbids vs to iustifie our selues before the Lord, likewise Dauid shunneth to enter into iudge­ment with the Lord, saieng that no man shalbe iustified before him; which is to be vnderstood of trusting to any other thing than only Gods mercie. Humble your selues (saith S. Iames) in the presence of God, and he will exalt you. And S. Peter, Be ye apparelled with humilitie; for God resisteth the prowd, and giueth grace to the lowly. The prowd prouoketh God to wrath. Philo sayth, That the prowd person prouoketh God to wrath. Also Moses giueth him no temporall punishmēt, but reserueth him to Gods iudgement; because Pride is a sinne of the soule, which is not seene and perceiued but of God. If we speake of the righteousnesse that is to be vsed towards men, it is hard for a prince to applie him­selfe thereto, vnlesse he be humble. For this vertue maketh a prince meeke, readie to heare poore mens requests, and to doe them reason, and loath to giue eare to flatterers and tale-bea­rers; it skorneth not any man, but maketh account both of poore and rich, behauing it selfe louingly and gently towards both, giuing easie accesse vnto either of them. Iob among his complaints protesteth that he neuer despised the iudgement of his seruants, were they man or woman, but esteemed of them as of himselfe. But hee that is too high-minded, will heare none but slatterers and tale-bearers; hee regardeth no counsell, he despiseth the poore, he disdaineth euery man, and easily taketh leaue to do wrong and iniurie, according to this saieng of Dauid, The froward are set on fire through their pride, to trouble the lowly that maketh small account of him­selfe. To be short, hee is full of vainglorie, enuie, and trouble, according vnto this saieng of Salomon, Among the prowd there is alway debate. Plato in his Lawes sayth, That hee which is prowd of his riches & honour, & burneth with a glo­rieng in himselfe as though he needed no prince or guide, bea­ting himselfe on hand that hee is able enough of himselfe, [Page 264] is by and by forsaken of God, and so left, and then finding as verie fooles as himselfe, hee triumpheth and turmoileth all things, A proud perso [...] ouer­throweth a whole citie. seeming vnto many not to be a man to be despised. But within a while after, being punished by Gods iust iudgement, he ouerthroweth himselfe, his house, and his whole common-weale. Also there is another spice of pride, whē yoong men de­spise their elders, & beleeue not their coūcell. For it is a yoong mans dutie (saith Cicero in his booke of Duties) to yeeld ho­nor to his auntients, which thing was inuiolably obserued in Aegypt and Lacedemon, whervpon rose the prouerb, It would doe a man good to be old in Sparta. Of the said vice springeth the disobedience of some yoong folkes to their fathers and mothers, He that hono­red not his parent, is proud. contrarie to Moses precept, which commaundeth the honouring of the father and mother, with promise of re­ward. In the temple of Eleusis, there were but three precepts set downe to be read of all men; the first concerned the prai­sing of God; the second the honoring of father & mother; and the third, the forbearing to eat flesh. And (as Cicero saith in his Duties) youth is first of all to be enioyned modestie and kindnesse towards their father and mother. Plato in his fourth booke of Lawes, doth in honor such as seeke to please God in two things: first in worshipping God with praiers & sacrifices, and secondly in honoring their father and mother. and he saith, That the child ought to beleeue, that all that euer hee hath belongeth to those that bred and brought him vp, so as he ought to succour them with al his goods, whether they be of fortune, of the bodie, or of the mind, and to recompence them in their old age, for the things which they haue endured for them in their yonger years, & to be short, that they ought to yeeld them reuerence both in word and deed, and to giue place vnto them in all their doings both in word and deed, and to thinke that a father is not an [...]rie without a cause, when he perceiueth that his sonne doth him wrong. Generally we may well say, That all disobedience and all mis-behauior commeth of pride, All disobedi­ [...]n [...] com­meth of P [...]de. as S. Iohn Chrisostome witnesseth in his 45 Homilie, and S. Luke speaking of the rich man, who was dam­ned [Page 265] for taking too much delight in his riches and braue appa­rell, and for his despising of the poore. Salomon in the 17 of the Prouerbs, saith; That proud, froward, and skornfull, are the names of him that dealeth arrogantlie with anger. For bloud­shed is in the report of the proud, and their curse is greeuous to heare, saith Ecclesiasti [...]us. As for Ambition, Ambition springeth of Pride. no doubt but it pro­ceedeth of Pride, for it is nothing else but a desire to be great, and to be had in honor.

Antonie the meeke said, It was vnossible for that man to gouerne a countrie well, which was atteinted with pride and ambition. My meaning is not in speaking of pride and ambiti­on, to take from a yoong man the desire of honour, and a ver­tuous emulation that may make him to glorie and delight in his wel-doing. For (as saith Theophrast by the report of Plu­tarch in the life of Agis) vertues doe bud and flourish in that age, and take the deeper root for the praises that are giuen vn­to them: proceeding still in growing and increasing, after the measure of the growing of their care and courage. But wher­as too much is dangerous of itselfe in all other things; it is most pestilent and deadlie, in the ambition of those that put them­selues in the managing of publike affaires. We see how Alex­anders ambitiō, wrought the ruine of all Asia; & for one Alex­ander that made profit of his ambition (howbeit with the losse of his reputation among all good men) infinit numbers were brought to ruine, as Pompey, Caesar, Crassus, Mariw, and others innumerable. P [...]rhus might haue bin a great prince, if he had not bin too ambitious, and it had bin better for him to haue credited the counsell of in [...]as, who being desirous to haue di­uerted him from his voiage into Italic, asked him to what pur­pose that so far voiage shuld serue him for the getting of one citie? Whervnto he answered, That frō Tarent he would go to Rome. And when you haue taken Rome (quoth Ci [...]as) what will you doe then? We will goe to Sicilie, answered Pirrhus. And when we haue done with Sicilie, whether shall wee then? Wee will to Carthage, said Pirrhus. And when Carthage is become yours, what will you doe then? I will [Page 266] make my selfe (quoth he) lord of all Greece. And when we haue done al this, what shal we do afterward. Thē wil we rest our selues (qd. Pirrhus) & make good cheer. And what letteth (quoth Cineas) that we should not fal presently to this making of good cheere, sith we haue inough wherwith to do it. Prin­ces therfore must not only beware of ambition, but also with­draw themselues from all ambitious persons. For they be ne­uer satisfied. Pride and Ambition ne­uer grow old. And as Plutarch saith in the life of Silla, Pride and ambition are two vices that neuer wex old, and are very daungerous to a state, like as it is daungerous to saile in a ship, where the pilots be at strife who shall gouerne it.

Ambitions is neuer without quarrelling, for euerie man fals to heauing at other, and seeks to take his fellowes place: As for example, Pompey to take Lucullussis, Marius to take Metel­lussis, and Silla to heaue out Marius; vntill in the end they brought the state to ruine. Enuie procee­deth of pride. As for Enuie, no doubt but it pro­ceedeth of pride, as Alexander shewed very well, who would needs be the perfectest of all men, and was sor [...]e that his father did so many goodly exploits, esteeming it as a be­reauing him of occasion to purchase himselfe reputation. Hee would not that Aristo [...]le should publish the books that he had taught him, to the end that he himselfe might passe all others in skill and in feats of war. Now as pride is the first and grea­test sinne, so also commonly it seeketh not any other than the most excellent things, be it in vertue, in prosperitie, in riches, or in dignitie. Pride is the ordinarie vice of estates. And therfore Salust said, That pride is the ordina­ry vice of nobilitie; and Claudian, That it cometh ordinarily in prosperitie. For aduersitie, pouertie, and sickenesse, do light he cut off the occasions of arrogancie, and there is nothing worse than a poore mā that is proud, as Salomon saith in his Prouerbs. Darius the father of Xerxes, said; That aduersities and trou­bles make a man the wiser. Antigonus seeing himselfe sicklie, commended his sickenesse, saying; that it had done him great good, by teaching him not to aduance himselfe aboue mea­sure, considering his infirmitie. It is no small benefit, when a small disease driueth away a great. And therfore Dauid boa­steth [Page 267] in the 119 Psalme, That God had done him a great good [...]ne in bringing him low. And a little after, Afore I was afflicted (saith he) I went astray, but now I keepe thy word; now lord I acknowledge that thy iudgements are iust, & that thou hast humbled me of very loue, that is to say, thou hast afflicted me to a good end. And in the 131 Psalm, Lord I [...] not high-minded, I haue no lostie looks, I haue not delt in thing [...] that are greater and more wonderfull than becōmeth me. Secondly, the vertuous and wise are more assailed with pride, than are the vicious, and the painfull more than the idle. And therfore S. P [...]ule said, That God had giuen him an angel of Satans to bullet him, least he shuld be puffed vp with his reuelations. For the mischiefe of pride comes of ouerful­nesse. And as S. Iohn Chrisostome saith in his homilie of Hu­militie, Like as too much eating ingendreth an inflammation of humors in our bodies, which inflammation breedeth the ague, and of the ague often commeth death: euen so is it with pride, which commeth not but of too much ease, & too much welfare. Pride assaul­teth good men, and such as are best oc­cupied▪ The same author in the same place saith, That other vices steale vpon vs, when we be idle and negligent, but this vice presseth & assaulteth vs whē we be doing good. And like as they that intend to goe vpon a cord, doe by and by fall and breake their neckes, it their sight goe astray neuer so little, so they that walke in this life, doe cast themselues downe head­long out of hand, if they take not great heed to themselues. For the way of this cord is without all comparison far more narrow & streight out than the other, for so much as it moun­teth vp vnto heauen, and therfore it is the more danger to slip or to misse footing, because the feare is woonderfull to them that are mounted so high, whereof there is but onely one remedie, which is, neuer to looke downeward, for feare of dazeling. Hee maketh yet one other goodlie similitude, saying, That like as Sea-rouers passe not to as­saile merchants when they set out of the hauen to fetch merchandise, but when they come loaden home: so when the mischieuous enemie seeth our ship full of precious s [...]ones, [Page 268] of all sorts of godlinesse, then doth he bend all his force to light vs of our treasure, Pride step­ [...]th [...]n euen i [...] deuotion. to sinke vs in the hauens mouth, and to leaue vs starke naked vpon the strond. And as saith S. Am­brose in his epistle which he writeth to the virgin Demetrias, Satan watcheth to cast in a collup of pride, in place of our de­uotion. And hee findeth not a better occasion to tempt vs, than by our vertues, which are the cause why we be of good right commended.

After that maner befell it to Osias king of Iuda, a good man, for in the end his heart was puffed vp, and he would needs offer sacrifice to God, whervpon ensued that he was by and by punished with a leprosie. Through pride & ouerwee­ning Dathan, Coree and Abiron, moued sedition against Moses, and would needs be equall with him, but the earth swallowed them vp quicke. Herod taking pleasure in the flatterie of the people, which said, That his words were the voice of God and not of man, was eaten vp of lice; so odious is that vice vn­to God. Thereof it commeth that it is said, not that God forsaketh the proud, but that he resisteth them; to shew that he will fight against them with his power, so greatly doth he abhorre that vice, according to this saying of the Psalmist, Thou didst cast them downe when they aduanced themselues. Virgill seemeth to approch hereunto, when he saith, That they which humble themselues are to be pardo­doned, and that the proud are to be encountered and subdu­ed. For as Herodotus saith, God wil haue none to be great but himselfe. God will not haue any other than himselfe to report or make himselfe great. The proud man ne­uer escapeth vnpunished (saith Seneca) and whensoeuer yee see any man praise himselfe out of measure, and more than is due vnto him, yee may assure your selfe, (saith Euripides) that Gods vengeance followeth hard at hand. Froisard saith, That Philip king of France, and Iohn his sonne, and the prince of Wales, lost Gwyen by their ouer-haughtinesse, and that king Charles recouered it by gentlenesse, bountifulnesse, and humi­litie. Dauid was proud of the multitude of his people, but God to humble him, bereft him of a great part of them, and [Page 269] made him to vnderstand in good time, that hee was offen­ded therat, to the intent to set him in right course againe, and to reforme him afore his fall were growne too great. The way to keepe a [...] from Pride. And for as much as it is hard to be raised out of so foule a fall, because the proud man wil not acknowledge it, it standeth vs on hand to seeke all means to keepe vs from it. S. Paule giueth vs an excellent one in his Epistle to the Philippians, where he saith, That we must go through with the worke of our saluation in feare and trembling, because it is God that worketh in vs, and therfore the more good we doe, the more cause haue we to stand in fear. And S. Peter in his first epistle, giueth vs the feare of God for a remedie, When any man speaketh (saith he) let him speake as the words of God, that God may be honored and glorified.

The second meane to keepe vs from this vice, is to make little account of ourselues, and to humble ourselues when we be aduanced to dignitie, according to Ciceros precept in his Duties, and to the principle of the Gospell, which saith, That he which humbleth himselfe, shall be exalted, and hee that exalteth himselfe shall be brought low. And in Ecclesia­sticus it is said, The greater that thou art, the more see thou that thou humble thy selfe in all things, and thou shalt find fauour at Gods hand. Humilitie [...] lowlinesse is as a bit or a bridle against ouer-wee­ning, to sub­due it to reason. Wherfore we must take humilitie for a bit, and for a bridle to tame this ouer-weening of ours, and to subdue vs to reason, as many heathen princes could well skill to doe. When Philip spake more loftilie after the winning of a battell than he was wont to doe afore, one willed him to measure his shadow, and he should find that it was no greater after the battell, than it was afore. This saying caused him to humble himselfe so well, that thenceforth he spake not more loftily than he had bin wont to doe, giuing one of the grooms of his chamber charge to put him in remēbrance euerie mor­ning, that he was a man. For there is none so insolent (saith Plutarch) as he that is carried away with an opinion of being happie. And as saith Gui [...]ciardine, men haue not a greater ene­mie than ouergreat prosperitie; for it maketh them vnpatient, [Page 270] full of loosenesse, bold to doe euill, and desirous to trouble their owne welfare by attempting new deuises. Epaminondas perceiuing himselfe to be somewhat at too much ease after the battell of Lewstra, and somwhat the prouder for so good­lie a victorie, came forth the next morning homelie apparel­led, and as it were in some griefe. And when it was demaun­ded of him, Wherof that sadnesse proceeded? he said, He had no cause of heauinesse, but did it because he had bin too well pleased the day afore, and therfore intended to chastise and moderate the intemperance of his ioy by that meanes, There are manie that do now adaies as Epaminondas did, and are outwardlie modest, but inwardly they burne with ambi­ [...]ion and desire of glorie. For that vice is not discouered alon­lie by the outward pomp and brauery; it lurketh within in an hypocritish and ambitious mind. [...] that [...] modes▪ and meeke. And such are they that affect the glorie and estimation of modest, religious, & honest men, who haue none other reward at Gods hand, than that which they gaine of the world, which is very small, for in the end they be noted for such as they be indeed. And therfore Da­uid reputeth him to be blessed, in whose heart there dwel­leth no hypocrisie, nor any point of deceit. In the time of Alexander, the world did wonderously commend the fruga­litie of Antipater, who led a stoure life, without any delicat­nesse of meat and drinke or apparell. But Alexander said of him, That outwardly he was clad all in white, and inwardly all in purple; meaning that it was but a counterfait kind of sparing, and that within he was ful of ambition. Of which sort also was Diogenes, who vsing a streight kind of life, as much for ostentations sake, as for loue of vertue, did wash himselfe often with cold water in wintertime: wherof when folke ha­uing pitie, desired him to vse no such hardnesse any more; Pl [...]to said vnto them, If ye will haue pitie vpon him, go your way frō him. For he saw that he did it not so much for loue of vertue, as to be famous amōg the people. Likewise at another time he verie well encountered him when he trode vpon Platoes beds which were finely decked, for diuers men of [Page 271] good calling to take their refection at. For when Diogenes vaunted himselfe to tread Platoes pride vnderfoot: you doe so indeed (quoth Plato) but with another greater pride; mea­ning that Diogenes had more pride and presumption in his pouertie, than Plato had in his wealth. The same Plato be­holding one day a braue Rhodian passing by, cried out; O what a vanitie and pride is here. And anon after seeing another come like an hypocrite in a verie simple Philoso­phers robe, Behold here (quoth he) another kind of pride. For he knew that the Philosopher burned with ambition vn­der his habit. Also he said, That pride was like a gilt armour, the which is faire without and farre otherwise within. Euen so the prowd person carieth a good countenance, though hee haue no good at all within him, for it is nothing but vanity and meere follie. Pride is l [...]k [...] b [...]a [...] [...] wind And as Socrates said, like as an emptie bladder seemeth great when it is puffed vp with wind, so fooles are puffed vp with nothing but opinion, neither can they agree with any but with flatterers, as Terence sheweth vs in his Co­medie entituled the Eunuch, vnder the person of Thraso. And if there happen any of thē to be a man of valour, as there are some, that only vice hindereth all their welldoing Plutarch in the life of Coriolane, saith, That the proud and stoure nature of Coriolane, was the cause of his ruine, notwithstanding that therwithall he was one of the absolutest men of all the Ro­manes. For wheras pride of it selfe is odious to all men, surely when it is matched with amibition, then becommeth it much more sauage and vntollerable. The proud man resem­bleth him that is sicke of the falling euill. Philo saith, that the proud man is like to him that is sicke of the falling sicknesse, who is alto­gether vnsetled in his countenance and in all his gestures and mouings.

The presumptuous opinion that Pompey had of himselfe, surmo [...]ted the reach of his reason; by means wherof for­getting the heed that hee was wont to take in standing vpon his [...], whereby he had alwaies assu [...]ed his prosperitie afo [...], hee changed it into rash and bold brauerie. Gaulter Brenne hauing conquered the greatest part of the kingdome [Page 272] of Naples, and holding Diepold an Almane besieged within Sarne, happened to be taken in a salie that Diepold made out vpon a desperate aduenture, and being prisoner was vsed cour­teously by Diepold. Who hauing caused him to thinke vpon the curing of his wounds, would haue sent him home againe, and haue put the kingdome into his hands. But Gaulter ha­uing too lordly a heart, answered, that there was not so great a benefit, nor so great an honour, that he would receiue at the hands of so base a person as he was: with which words Di­epold being prouoked to wrath, threatned him that he should repent it. Whervpon Gaulter fell into such a furie, that he ope­ned his wounds, drew his bowels out of his bellie, and with­in foure daies after died for very moode. Had hee beene lowlie-minded, his imprisonment had profited him, and he had gotten a faithfull seruitor of Diepold, who would haue made the kingdome of Naples sure vnto him, wheras now through his passing pride, he lost both kingdome and life. Alfons of Arragon dealt not so, for when he was prisoner, he did so much by his gentlenesse and humilitie, The fruits of Humilitie. that he made his enemies to loue him, and practised with them in such sort, that they helped him to win the realme of Naples. Taxilles gained more at Alexanders hand by his humilitie, than hee could haue conquered in all his life, with all his forces and men of arms. And yet notwithstanding his humbling of him­selfe vnto Alexander, was after a braue and princelie maner, somoning him to the combat with such words as these: If you be a lesser lord than I, suffer me to doe you good; If you be a greater lord that I, doe by me as I do by you. Well then (qd. Alexander) we must come to the encounter, and see who shal win his companion to do him good: and therwithal imbracing him in his arms with all gentlenesse and courtesie, in steed of taking his kingdome from him, as he had done from others, he increased his dominion. Herod by humbling himselfe before Augustus, saued and increased his kingdome. Plutarch saith, That Pirrhus could verie well skill to humble himselfe tow­ards great men, and that his so doing helped him verie much [Page 273] to the conquest of his kingdome. Lois the eleuenth, king of France led the countie of Charrolois with so sweete and low­ly words, that he got the thing by humilitie, which he could neuer haue obtained otherwise, and by that means, wound him­selfe from all his enemies, and setled his state in rest and tran­quilitie, which had bin in great hazard, if he had vsed brauery towards him. The lowlines of Aristides did maruellous great seruice, to the obtainment of the victorie which the Greeks had of the Persians, at such time as he agreed to the opinion of Miltiades, and willingly yeelded him the soueraigne authority of commanding the armie: For there were many captaines, which had euery man his day to command the whole armie as generals; but when it came to Aristides turne, he yeelded his preheminence into the hands of Miltiades, thereby teaching his other companions, that to submit a mans selfe to the wisest and to obay them, is not only not reprochfull, but also whole­some and honorable; after whose example, all the rest submit­ted themselues to Miltiades likewise. I told you in the chapter going afore, how he submitted himselfe to Themistocles his ene­mie for the profit of Greece. And I wil say yet further of him, that beeing sent with Cimon to make war against the Persians, both of them bahaued themselues gently and graciously to­ward the Greeks that were their allies: on the other side, Pau­sanias and the rest of the captains of Lacedemon, which had the soueraine charge of the whole armie, were rough and rigo­rus to the confederate people. In doing wherof he bereft the Lacedemonians by little and little, of the principalitie of Greece, not by force of arms, but by good discretion and wise demeanor. For as the goodnes of Aristides, and the gentlenes and meekenes of Cimon, made the gouernment of the Atheni­ans well liked of the other nations of Greece; so the couetous­nes, arrogancie and pride of Pausanias, made it to be the more desired. To haue ho­nour [...] a man must flee from it. S. Iohn Chrisostom saith in his nine and thirtith homilie, That honor is not to be had, but by flying from it. For i [...] we seeke after it, it fleeth from vs, and when we flee from it, it fol­loweth vs. And as Salom [...]n saith in the xviij of the Prouerbs, [Page 274] The heart is puffed vp against a fall, and lowlines goeth afore glory. Not without great reason therfore is pride esteemed the greatest of all vices, and humilitie set formost among all the vertues. And as S. Austin saith in his thirteenth booke of the citie of God, For as much as the glori [...]ieng and exalting of a mans selfe refuseth to be subiect vnto God; it falleth away from him, aboue whom there is not any thing higher: but hu­militie maketh a man subiect to his superior. Now there is no­thing higher than God, and therfore humilitie exalteth men, because it maketh them subiect vnto God. And as S. Chriso­stom saith, It is the mother, the root, and the good of all goods. The Centuriō was esteemed worthy to receiue the Lord, be­cause he protested himselfe to be vnworthie. And S. Pa [...]l who counted not himselfe worthy the name of an Apostle, was the cheefe of all the Apostles. S. Iohn who thought not himselfe worthy to vntie the Lords shoes, laid his hand vpon his head to baptise him. And S. Peter who praied the Lord to depart far from him vretched sinner, was a foundation of the church. For there is not a more acceptable thing vnto God, than to mu­ster a mans selfe among the greatest sinners. Hereby we see the profit that is gotten of the small esteeming of a mans selfe. For the lesse a man esteemeth himselfe, the more is he esteemed; first of God, and secondly of men. Also we see that ordinarily, the lowly prince is loued of euery man, and the proud is hated of all. And therfore let such as haue the gouernment of yoong princes, teach them cheefly among other things to be lowly and courteous towards all men; as knowing by experience, that nothing winneth mens hearts so much as humilitie, which kil­leth vainglorie, Insolencie, Impatiencie, Enuie, Ambition, and all manner of vices.

CHAP. VII. Of Fortitude, Valiancie, Prowesse, or Hardinesse: and of Fearfulnesse or Cowardlinesse.

LEt vs come to the third cardinall vertue, which the learned call Fortitude, Prowes, or Valiantnesse, the which the Poet H [...] ­mer said to be the only morall vertue that hath as it were salies and outmouings inspi­red into it of God, Plutarch in the life of Pirr [...]us. and certaine furors that carie a man out of himselfe. This vertue is more generallie followed of princes, than any of the other as we haue seene in Alexander, Pirrhus, Hanniball, Pompey, Iulius Caesar, Themist [...] ­cles, Alcibiades, and manie others, who were not so curious of other vertues, as painfull to excell in Prowesse and greatnesse of mind. A definition of Prowesse. Cicero in his Tusculane questions sayth, that valeantnesse or Prowesse, is a skill to endure; or an af­fection of the mind fitlie disposed to sustaine aduersitie; or else a certaine stable or stedfast purpose, to vndertake or repulse the things that seeme to be dreadfull. Plato in the fourth booke of his Commonweale, bringeth in Socrates, saying thus; I say that Prowesse is a certaine fastholding. Glaucus. What maner of fastholding? Socrates. Of the opinion which a man hath conceiued by trainement and education, whereby he iudgeth of things terrible. Glaucus. And after what sort shal we call a man valeant? Socrates. Whē the force of his choller or anger is so ruled, that he continueth resolute in his opinion betweene pleasure and griefe, not deeming otherwise of that which wee call terrible or not terrible, [...] than reason willeth him. Aristotle saith, It is the dutie of Prowesse to be vtterlie vndismaied with the feare of de [...]th, to be constant in suffering aduersitie, to be void of dread of danger, to chuse [...] for to die with honour, [Page 276] than to liue with dishonour, or to be conquered in battell. At a word, it is the dutie of prowesse, to be vnafraid of any dangers, which reason sheweth that we ought not to feare. Cicero in his Duties setteth downe three sorts of Prow­esse: Three sorts of Prowesse. the first consisteth in not fearing any thing; the second, in not making account of worldlie things; and the third, in beleeuing that there is not anie aduersitie, which a man is not able to endure. The same author in his first booke of the ends of good and bad, saith, That the strong-hearted and high-minded man, is free from all care and griefe; considering that he despiseth death, and is so fully resolued concerning sor­rowes, that he alway beareth a mind, that the greatest mise­ries are ended by death, the smallest haue euer some release, and the meaner sort we ouer-master, either induring them if they be tollerable, or patiently passing out of this life as from a stage, if they be vntollerable. Which passing out of this life, wee must so vnderstand, as it must be without hasting our owne end. For (as Plato saith) wee must not depart hence, without the commaundement of our captein generall, that hath set vs in ward. It is no point o [...] P [...]owesse [...] to eschue [...]is [...]hiefe And to kill a mans selfe to a­uoid pouertie, loue, or trouble, is not the propertie of a no­ble and stout courage, but of a base, fearfull, and cowardly heart.

Ari [...]totle lib. 8. Floral.The Lacedemonians were aboue all things trained vp to valiantnes, and had but three principall precepts, the first to o­bay magistrats, the second to endure trauel, & the third to get the vpper hand in battell, Appendants. of Prowesse. or else to die. Vpon Prowesse doe depend, trauell, resolution, strength, boldnesse, magnanimitie, confidence, and sufferance. Not without cause doe we put trauell into prowesse, Of Trauell. for as Diogenes said, No trauell is praise­worthie, which tendeth not to magnanimitie, and such trauell is to bee vnderstood, as well of mind, as of bodie: For in strength (saith Socrates) and in prowesse, there goeth a mouing both of bodie and mind. And cōmonly all good capteins haue put thēselues to trauel as much as was possible, both with bo­dy and mind, as we read of Alexander, who of a great courage [Page 277] rowed ouer waters, scaled towns, and put himselfe foremost in perils and pains-taking. Pirrhus, Hannibal, Sertorius, and Iulius Caesar did the like, and so did many emperors also, who sticked not to march fiue or six leagues on foot with their armies, put themselues into the water vp to the knees to passe a large mar­rish of a two or three leagues ouer, ate of the same bread that their souldiers did, endured hunger and thirst, and slept vpon the hard ground, as I haue said hertofore.

Next I say, Of Resolutiō. that Resolution is requisit in a man of prowesse and valor: for the very substance of prowes, is to be resolut. For resolutenes keepeth a man from wauering, so as hauing deter­minatly set honor and vertue before him as his marke to shoot at, he feareth not any impediment that may crosse him. Leoni­das chose rather to die with three hundred men whom he had all resolute to die with him, than to abandon the place which he had taken to keepe, notwithstanding that he was sure he should be ouerlaid with force: And when one said vnto him, the sunne was hidden with the shot of the Persians; So much the better for vs (quoth he) for then shall we fight with them in the shadow. One asked of Agis how many Lacedemonians he had to the wars; Enow (quoth he) to chase away the wic­ked. Also he said of them, That they demanded not how ma­nie their enemies were, but where they were. Sceua a Iew ha­uing long time defended euery man, at the last after much slaughter by him made, abode still hauing his eies stopped, his head, his armes, and his thighes broken, and his sheild striken through in sixscore places. I see no resolutenes comparable to the Machabees, who to maintaine their lawes, offered them­selues to all perils, and in the end rebelling against Antiochus, did with three thousand men discomfit forty thousand. Like­wise Eleasar thinking to kill the king, whom he tooke to haue bin him that was mounted vpon the greatest Elephant, ope­ned the th [...]ong, and did so much that he killed the Elephant, and died himselfe vnder him. And Iudas Machabeus chose ra­ther to die than to flee in battell, though he had but few men in comparison of his enemies. Likewise Ionathas the third bro­ther, [Page 278] renued his armie being broken, and carried away the victorie. The Christian martyrs were resolute to die, rather than to doe sacrifice to idols: and with that resolution they endured death, and all maner of torments with wonderfull constancie.

Of Strength.Strength also is needfull to prowesse, so as it behoueth good courage to be accompanied with strength, that it may put in execution that valeancie and noblenes of heart. Anti­sthenes said, That a man ought to will al the good in the world to his enemies, sauing only prowesse: because all his goods should come one day to him that is valeant. And whensoeuer he saw a braue dame, and well appareled, he was wont to go to hir husband, and to pray him to shew him his horses and ar­mor: and if he found them good and well prouided he said no more to the woman: but if he were not well horsed and well armed, he would desire him to take from hir all hir goodly iewels, for feare least they became a pray vnto some other, for want of a man of desend them.

Of Boldnesse.Likewise Boldnes is necessarie to prowesse. And doth in some sort resemble it. Neuerthelesse as saith Plutarch in his Protagoras, there is a difference betweene prowesse and bold­nes. For ordinarily euery man of prowesse is bold, but euery bold man is not valeant and ful of prowesse. The difference of Boldnesse and Prowesse. For boldnesse may come by art, by furie, or by choler: but prowesse commeth of good education, and of a certaine inworking secret force and goodnes of nature. Cato seeing his sword salne among his ene­mies, tooke it vp againe as boldly and constantly, as if his ene­mies had not ben there. We call this a Boldnes, howbeit not simply a boldnes, but rather a prowesse, because it had ben a shaine for him to haue lest his sword to his enemie. So then, there was a cause of this boldnes; otherwise it had ben but rashnes. Likewise the deed that Robert de la March did at the iournie of Nouara, was full of vertuous Boldnes accompanied with prowesse and naturall kindnes: for his fatherly affection made him to enter bareheaded but with one squadron of horsemen, into the thickest or the Suitzers that had [...] die [Page 279] gotten the victorie, to saue his two sonnes Florange and Iamais captains of the Lanceknights, who lay sore wounded vpon the ground, where he fought with such furie, that the Suitzers themselues maruelled greatly that hee could recouer them aliue out of so great danger. Iulius Caesar perceiuing the Ner­uians, that is to say, the people of Turney, to haue the better hand, caught a buckler out of a souldiers hand that began to quaile, and taking his place, did such feats of arms, that all his armie tooke courage againe, and got the victorie. The same Caesar seeing his standard-bearer readie to flie, caught him by the throte, and shewed him the enemies, saieng, Whe­ther wilt thou? Behold, these bee the enemies with whome we haue to deale. And he did so well by his Boldnesse, vale­antnesse and words, that he woon the victorie. And in that case boldnesse was needfull. When Cirus the yoonger was about to giue battell, Clearchus counselled him to hold him­selfe behind the Macedonians; What say you Clearchus, qd. Cyrus, would you haue me to seeke a kingdome, and to make my selfe vnworthie of it? To put a mans selfe in perill to no purpose, is rash boldnesse: but if need require, a man must not be afraid, and he that is not so afraid, is deemed both bold and valiant. And as Plato sayd in his defence of Socrates, the man that is valeant and full of prowesse, is without feare. So that they are in an error, which say that prowesse is a mode­rating of feare. As for Magnanimitie, it is the selfe same vali­antnesse which hath respect to nothing but vertue, as shall be declared hereafter.

As touching Confidence, Of Confidēce. it is annexed to valeantnes, and victorie doth often depend theron. For the beginning of con­quest is an assuring of a mans selfe that he shal conquer, as Plu­tarch saith in the life of Themistocles. Wee haue seene with what confidence Alexander went to make war against Da­rius, hauing but a handfull of men in comparison of him. A­gesilaus hauing but ten thousand men, nor only defended the Lacedemonians, but also willingly made war vpon the king of Persia. As Hanniball stood looking vpon the great and [Page 280] braue armie of the Romanes, at the battell of Cannas, one Gisco said vnto him, That it was a wonderous thing to see so many men; It is yet much more woonderfull (answered Han­niball) that in all that great host there is not one like vn­to thee. This confidentnesse made the Carthaginenses the more assured, when they saw their Generall take so great skorne, and so little regard of the Romane armie. Therefore it is neither rashnesse to bee confident, nor prow­esse to thrust a mans selfe into perill without cause, after the manner of that Lacedemonian which had leuer to ouer­throw his armie through his rash boldnesse and vain-glorie, than to shun the battell; not considering that in loosing himselfe, he lost a great number of his countrimen, whom Scipio would haue held so deere, that hee would rather haue saued one of them, than haue discomfited a thousand enemies.

Paulus Emilius being readie to giue battell to Perseus, re­tired his people without doing any thing, and lodged them in his campe, the which he had fortified. And when Sci­pio Nasica and other yoong noble men of Rome, desired him to make no delay; I would make none (quoth he) if I were of your age: but the victories that I haue gotten in time past by deliberation, haue taught me the faults that are committed by such as are vanquished, and doe forbid me to goe so hotly to assaile an host, readie ranged and set in order of battell, afore I haue rested my people that are but newly arriued. Pericles neuer hazarded armie where he saw great doubt, or apparent likelihod of danger. And he thought them no good capteins which had gotten great victories by aduenturing ouer-far, but was wont to say, That if none other than he did lead them to the slaughter, they should abide im­mortall. Vpon a time when he saw the Athenians desirous to fight with the Lacedemonians whatsoeuer perill came of it, for wasting their territorie; When trees (quoth he) be crop­ped or cut downe, they grow again within a while after: but when men are once lost, it is vnpossible to recouer them.

[Page 281]Also in prowesse there is Sufferance, Of Suffe­rance. and as Epaminondas said, To beare with things in matters of state, To beare with things amis [...]e, is a [...]oint of Prowesse. is a spice of prowesse. For it behoueth oftentimes to put vp iniuries, and to heare mis-speeches of himselfe, without making account of them, which is the propertie of Magnanimitie, as I shall declare hereafter. Insomuch that the goodly precept of Epi­ctetus, which commaundeth to beare and forbeare, is to be vn­derstood of nothing else than Valiantnesse, meaning that men must beare aduersities with a constant mind, and prince­ly courage, not suffering themselues to be dismaied by them, or to be corrupted by prosperitie. Prowesse o [...] Valiantnesse is most pro­per to wa [...]. And for as much as this vertue doth ordinarily follow difficult things, because great things will not bee had without great danger, (as saith Hero­dotus) and the daunger of war is greatest: we attribute Vali­antnesse chiefly to chiualrie and warre, as wherin the conceit of death is greatest. Why the con­ceit of death is greater in battel than in other places. For commonly we conceiue not death so much when we be sick, because the mischiefe is hidden; nor when we be in peril on the sea, because by the touching of the water, we feele not the inconuenience that commeth by the touch of the sword in the maiming of our members, which causeth vs to conceiue the violentnesse of death so much the more, as it lieth in vs to auoid it by flight. Were­vpon it commeth to passe, that few men resolue themselues to die the death that lieth in them to eschew. But such as re­solue themselues to it, do get themselues great honor and re­putation among men.

When one d [...]maunded of Agesilaus, What was the way to atchieue honour? hee answered, To make no rec­koning of death. For he that is afraid to die, can doe nothing worthie of praise. This vertue is the meane betweene feare­fulnesse and foo [...] hardinesse; for it repres [...]eth feare, and mode­rateth boldnesse. It is easier to [...] bold­nesse, [...]. True it is, that it is harder to restraine feare, than to moderat boldnesse. For to abide daunger, time and custome be requisit for the enduring of the inconuenience: but when a thing is to be aduentured vpon it is done vpon the sodaine, and with a speedinesse, the which is easier to be mo­derated [Page 282] than feare. Wherin Pro­wesse doth chie [...]ly consist. Therefore the state of Prowesse consi­steth chiefly in the contempt of greefe and death. And that man is counted a man of noble courage, which when an honest or honourable death is offered vnto him, is nothing afraid of it. But for to put a mans selfe in daunger vpon a brunt of sorrow or anger, cannot (as saith Aristotle) bee counted valiantnesse. Fearefulnesse is the contrarie to vali­antnesse▪ and a corruption of the lawfull iudgement, The definiti­on of Fearful­nesse. concer­ning the things that are to be feared, or not feared; or ra­ther an ignorance of that which is to be feared, or not fea­red. Aristotle saith, It is a vice of the couragious, where­through a man trembleth for feare of danger, specially of death, beleeuing that it is more commendable to saue life, by any maner of means, than to die honestlie. And as saith Ecclesiasticus, Like as chaffe and dust in the aire cannot stand against the force of wind, so a cowardly heart in the conceit of a foole, cannot stand against the violence of feare. Gene­rally we feare all that is euill, for feare is an expectation of e­uill, as of pouertie, sicknesse, and such other things, whereof we be afraid, because of their hurtfulnesse. The bold man is cleane contrarie to the fearfull, for he is not afraid, neither of death, The diffe­ren [...]e be­tweene the va­li [...]nt and the foo [...]e-hard [...]e. nor any other thing. He doth not offer, but rather cast himself headlōg into danger, afore danger come, & oft-times in danger he is lasie, & repenteth him that he hath cast him­selfe into it. But the man of prowesse is cold afore he vnder­taketh, but ready and sharpe in doing & vndertaking. Which thing Thucidides declareth sitly and elegantly in saying thus, This we haue aboue all others, that not only we be hardie, but also we deliberate of the things whch we be to take in hand, wheras others are bold through ignorance, and lasie and slow to vndertake, by reason of their vncertain con [...]ultations. But those men are aboue all others most excellent, who hauing foreconsidered both the good and the euil, the pleasure and the displeasure, doe, not for all that shrinke away from dan­ger. On a time one pr [...]ised in Catoes presence, a rash-na [...]die man for a valiant man of war, whervnto Cato answered, There [Page 283] was great odswhether a man made great account of vertue, or none account at all of his life: esteeming those men to be of noble courage, not which despised their life without purpose, but rather which made so great account of vertue, that in respect of that, they passed not for life. At what time Epa­minondas besieged Sparta, and was gotten by force into the towne, a certaine Lacedemonian named Isadas, being not on­ly vnsurnished of armor to defend him, but also of apparell, came annointed all ouer his bodie with oile, as one readie to wrestle, and holding in the one hand his Partisane, and in his other a sword, went and thrust himselfe into the presse of them that sought, laying about him, and beating downe all his enemies that he found afore him, and yet was neuer woūded himselfe. A notable iudgement of the Lacede­monians. Afterward the Ephories gaue him a crown in honor of his prowesse, but they amerced him by & by at a fine of an hundred crowns, for being so rash as to hazard him­selfe in the peril of battel, without armor to defend him. Cice­ro in his Duties saith, That we must not shew our selues cow­ardly for feare of danger, and yet we must refraine from thru­sting our selues into danger; but if necessitie require, we must not make account of death. And therfore when the Lacede­monians were afraid, least some hurt might befall them, for refusing to take part with king Philip, Dannudas said vnto thē, Yee halfe men, what harme can befall vs, which passe not for death? According to some men, there are seuen sorts of valiantnesse, [...]euen sorts of Pro [...]. which we may rather tearme Visors of vali­antnesse. For they haue a resemblance of prowesse, but if ye plucke off their masks, ye shall find them an other thing than they seemed, The first fort is termed ciuil, which is when a man hazardeth himself for the honor, dishonor, & penalties set downe by the laws, vnto such as mis-behaue themselues in war, The feare of [...] or otherwise. This sorth hath more likelihood thā the rest, because the feare of transgressing the lawes, is a certaine kind of prowesse. And as Plutarch saith in the life of [...] It seemeth that the men of old time tooke [...] not an vrter priua [...]on of [...] [Page 284] reproch, and a dread of dishonour, because that commonly they that are most afraid to transgresse lawes, are safest when they be to encounter with the enemie. And they that stand not in feare, to haue any reproch, are not carefull to endure any aduersities.

Prowesse is a skill. Socrates said, That Prowesse is a skill, and that many are not noble-minded, for want of knowing what it is. For this cause lawes are verie needfull to set euerie man in his dutie, but they cannot make a coward hardie, no more than the puni­shing of lewd men by laws can make all men good. But they hold all men to their duties, so as good men hate sin for ver­tues sake, and euil men are warie to offend for feare of punish­ment; but no whit doth that change their disposition vnto e­uill. Also the law may enforce a fearfull man to a aduenture, but it dischargeth him not of his inclination. And as there be some bodies stronger than othersome, so also be some minds stronger by nature to endure casualties, than other­some.

X [...]nophon in his fourth booke of the de [...]ngs and sayings of Socrates.Another kind is called Slauish, which is, when neither for honour, nor for dishonour, but for necessities sake, a man be­commeth couragious, for necessitie maketh euen cowards couragious, (as saith Salust) or else for feare of punishment, as when Iulian the emperour in a battell against the Persians, slew tenne of the first that ran away, to restraine the rest from doing the like. For that punishment compelled them to sight whether they would or no. And William Conque­rour, duke of Normandie, who caused his ships to bee set on fire, as soone as he was landed in England, to take from his people all other hope of safetie, than only in the sword. For the greatest meane of safety, is to bee out of hope of safetie.

Accustomed­nesse vnto pe­rill▪ maketh those to seem ha [...]die that be not.The third sort is called Warlike, which is, when we see men of war that are expert in arms, doe deeds that seeme to be of hardinesse, to such as haue not the experience; and yet they faile not to retire when they see the danger. And that also cannot be called Valiantnesse, no more than mareners [Page 285] can be called Valiant, Aristotle in his ninth booke of Morals. for they being accustomed to tem­pest, doe lesse feare them than doth the man of greatest magnanimitie in the world: and surely no man is ignorant but that a man of magnanimitie may die at the sea without feare, not after the maner of marinets.

The fourth is called Furious, when a man fighteth vpon hatred, choler, or passion. In so doing he seemeth couragious, because (as Aristotle saith) Choller is a great spurre to pricke one foorth to danger; yet notwithstanding he is not so: for as soone as his rage is ouer, he beginneth to wexlasie, and is wil­ling to be gone at the least intreatance that can be. Aristotle in the eight of his Morals. Sorrow and Anger make men to seeme hardie. Now then, it is no valiancie to put a mans selfe into danger, when he is spurred with sorrow or anger. Likewise the foole-hardie see­meth of great courage though he be not so, because hee put­teth himselfe foorth to danger without cause. But men ought in all things to deale by reason: for that which done with reason, is wel-beseeming and commended of all men, and that which is done otherwise, is blamed. Such as discerne not good from euill, thinke a man to be of great courage, because he seemeth so, whereas indeed it is either rashnes, follie, or rage, that maketh him to seeme so: as we read of Coriolan, who when he was cōdemned of the people, shewed not any greefe and that (as saith Plutarch) was not through any drift or per­suasion of reason, or through any calmenesse of disposition, that made him to beare his mis-fortune patiently and meeld­ly, but through a vehement despight, and desire or reuenge, which carried him so forciblie away, that he seemed not to­feele his owne miserie: Despight ma­keth a man to forgee the basenesse of a lasie and lan­guishing mind. the which the common people suppose not to be sorrow, though it be so in deed. For when such griefe is set on fire, then turneth it into despight, and then forgoeth it the basenesse, lasinesse, and faintnesse which is naturall vnto it. And therfore as he that hath a feuer, seemeth full of heat; so hee that is chollericke seemeth as though a mans mind were puft out, and made greater and larger by his being in such disposition. The fifth kind is called Customarie, which is when a man hath alwaies bin woont to ouer-come, and ne­uer [Page 286] bin foiled, such customablenesse maketh him to goe the more boldly to the encounter. But if he found resistance, then would he flie as well as other men, for want of resolute pur­pose in valiantnesse. The sixt sort is called Beastlie, which is, when a man goeth like a beast to find his enemie, not think­ing him to be couragious, and that he will make resistance a­gainst him, whereby it may befall him as I haue said of the other. The seuenth sort is called Vertuous, which is the true and only kind of Prowesse, as when a man warreth or putteth himselfe in danger, not by constraint, nor vpon choller, expe­rience, or ignorance, but because it is expedient and behoofful in reason to be done. As for example, a prince must not make warre, vnlesse it bee iust, and for the benefit of his realme, or for the tuition and defence thereof, and of his subiects, and not vpon ignorance, or for Ambition, or desire of re­uenge.

CHAP. VIII. of Magnanimitie.

MAgnanimitie approcheth vnto Prow­esse and Valiantnesse, but yet it hath some thing greater. And like as mag­nificence being nothing else than li­beralitie, is notwithstanding counted a greater thing, euen so is it with Magnanimitie, which ought to bee proper & peculiar to princes who set their minds, They that haue the ma­naging of great matters, ought not to set their minds vpon base things. or at least wise ought to set their minds, on none but great matters. For as Demosthenes saith, it is a hard matter for them that set their minds vpon base things, to haue a high and bold spirit, or for them that haue the managing of great affaires, to mind the small things. For such as the state of a man is, such is his mind. Alexander by reason of his valiant and [Page 287] hardie courage, thought nothing to be impregnable, nor any thing too strong for a firme and resolute mind. Wherfore being about to assaile a place that was impregnable, hee de­maunded what courage the captaine was of, that was within it. And when he vnderstood, that he was the veriest coward of the world, that is well for vs quoth he, for that place is alwais to be woon, which is held by a faint-hearted coward. And in verie deed he woon the place, by putting the keeper therof in feare.

Now then, The definiti­on of Magna­nimitie. Magnanimitie is a certaine excellencie of cou­rage, which aiming at honour, directeth all his doings ther­vnto, and specially vnto vertue, as the thing that is esteemed the efficient cause of honour; in respect wherof, it doth all things that are vertuous and honourable, with a braue and ex­cellent courage, and differeth from valiantnesse of prowesse, The differ [...] between [...] Magnanimity. in that prowesse respecteth chiefly the perils of warre, and magnanimitie respecteth honour. Insomuch that Magnani­mitie is an ornament vnto all vertues, because the deeds of vertue, be worthie of honour, the which are put in exceution by Magnanimitie. As for example, when it is said, That it be­longeth not to a man of Magnanimitie to doe wrong; this is a vertuous and iust deed, which bringeth honour to the man of Magnanimitie, and therfore we say, That Magnanimitie is an ornament to all vertues, because it maketh them the grea­ter, in that the honor wheron the nobleminded man setteth his eye, surmounteth all things.

But yet in this do Magnanimitie and prowesse agree, that both of thē are void of feare, & despise death, greefe, peril, and danger, not suffering themselues to be ouer-weighed by pros­peritie or aduersitie. Cicero in the fift of his Tusculane questi­ons, saith, That if a man bend himselfe to despise the things that are commonly had in estimation, as strength, beautie, health, riches, and honor, & regardeth not their contraries; he may go with his head vpright, & make his boast, that neither the frowardnes of fortune, nor the opinion of the cōmon peo­ple, nor sorrow, nor pouertie, shall be able to put him in feare, [Page 288] but all things are in his hand, and nothing is out of his power. And in his first booke of Duties, We deeme it (saith he) the part of a noble courage and a constant mind, to be so firme and stable through the working of reason, as to make no rec­koning of the things which other men esteeme to be goodlie and excellent; and to beare the things in such sort which seeme hard and bitter, as he swarue not from the state of na­ture, The noble­minded-man is not trubled either with prosperitie or with aduer­sitie. and from the dignitie which a wise man ought to haue: and that it is the point of a nobleminded & constant man, not to be dismaied with aduersitie, nor to shrinke a whit from the place where he standeth, nor to step aside from reason. For it is a token of lightnesse, not to be able to beare aduersitie, as well as prosperitie. On the cōtrarie part, it is a goodly thing to keepe one selfe-same maner of dealing in all a mans life, yea and euen one selfe-same countenance.

The magnanimitie and constancie of Aristides was so great, that for all the honor that was done vnto him, he was ne­uer high-minded, nor for any reiection, putting backe, or re­buke, was neuer discouraged or troubled. Metelius hauing on­ly, of a great number of senators, refused vpon perill of his life, to be sworne to a wicked law that was proclaimed by Satur­nius a tribune of the people: said vnto his friends that accom­panied him, That to doe euill, was too easie and too loitering a thing; and that to do well, where no danger is, was too com­mon a thing: but to doe good where danger is, that was the propertie of a man of honour and vertue. Cicero in the second booke of his Orator, saith, It is a great commendation to en­dure aduersitie wisely, and not to be discouraged by mis-for­tune, but to hold a mans selfe vpright, and to reteine his digni­tie in the time of distresse. He that hath a loftie cou­rage in ad­nersitie is a noble minded man. For there is not a thing more besee­ming a noble minded man, than to be of great courage and loftie in aduersitie, the which would ill-beseeme him in pros­peritie. And as Plutarch saith, like as they that walke with a statelie gate, are accounted vain-glorious, and yet notwith­standing, that maner of marching is allowed and commen­ded in them that goe to battell: euen so he that aduanceth his [Page 289] mind in aduersitie, A braue port and stout countenance is in aduersitie comme [...]a­ble, but in prosperity dis­commenda­ble. is deemed to be of excellent and vnuan­quishable courage, as hauing a braue port and stout counte­nance to encounter aduersitie, which in prosperitie would ill beseeme him. For we reade that he which is of great courage, despiseth and maketh none account of all that may befall to man, ne esteemeth any worldly thing in comparison of him­selfe. They therefore that are endued with a great and loftie courage, are alwaies happie, as who doe know that all the tur­moilings of fortune, and all the changes of matters and times, are light and weake when they come to encounter a­gainst vertue. Noblemin­dednesse the meane be­tweene Faint­hartednes or Baceminded­nes, and Fool­hardines. Magnanimitie or noblemindednes is the meane betweene bacemindednes and ouerloftines. For he that appli­eth himselfe to great things, is called nobleminded; and he that dareth not aduenture vpon them, is called baceminded. Likewise he that aduentureth vpon all things, though he can doe nothing aright, is called foolehardy. The nobleminded man aduāceth not himselfe for honor, riches, or prosperity, nei­ther maketh he the greater account of himself for them; if he fall from his degree or loose his goods, he stoopeth not for it; for he is vpheld with a certain force & stoutnes of mind. Con­trariwise, the baceminded or faintharted man, becommeth wonderfully vainglorious of euery little peece of good fortune or aduauncement that befalleth him, and at euery little losse that betideth him, he shrinketh and is cast downe like an ab­iect, as if he had lost al, because he hath not the force of mind, to beare his fortune either good or bad. The foolehardie is of the same stamp, sauing that without reason, he aduentureth vp­on the things which the other dareth not vndertake. The nobleminded hath six properties. The no­bleminded man hath six properties: the first is, that he thru­steth not himselfe into perils rashly and for small trifles, but for great matters, whereof he may haue great honor and profit. As for example, Alexander liked not to haue the honor of winning the wager at the gamings of Olimpus, because there were no kings to encounter with him. This came of a noble and princely mind. But when he was to goe to the assault of a towne, or the giue battell: he was euer one of the foremost. The [Page 290] second propertie of the nobleminded, is to reward vertuous persons, and such as haue imploied themselues in his seruice. Wherunto a king ought to haue a good eie, as I haue said in the title of righteousnes. The third propertie of the nobleminded, is to do but little, and not to hazard his selfe at all times. For a man cannot do great things easily and often. The fourth pro­perty, is to be soothfast, and to hate lying and all the appurte­nances therof, as flatterers, talebearers, and such others, which ought to be odious, most cheefly vnto princes, who should be a rule to other men, as I haue said alreadie in speaking of truth, and shal speake againe hereafter in discoursing of vntruth. The fifth property of the nobleminded, is that he is no great crauer nor no great borower; assuring himself that nothing is so deerly bought, as that which is gotten by intreatance. Wherefore as for the emperors that hild out their hands at their court gates, to receiue presents and newy earsgists of the people: they were so far off from being princely minded, that they were rather to be esteemed inferior to rogues and beggars and al such like ras­cals. The sixt propertie of the nobleminded, is that he passeth not whether he be praised or dispraised, so long as he himselfe do well: of which sort was Fabius Maximus, who regarded not to be called a coward, but went forward continually with his platform of the ouerthrowing of Hannibal, without giuing him battell of hazarding any thing. Pericles, what outcries so euer men made vpon him, forbare not to go vnto the multitude, but did like the good pilot of a ship, which giueth order for all things in the ship, without staying at the teares and shriekings of the passengers, tormenting themselues with the terror of the storm. Magnanimity passeth not for vaine tur­moils. For magnanimitie cōsisteth, not only in despising death, but also in not regarding the vaine discourses and turmoiles, of such as vnderstand not what the matters meane. In which be­halfe Pompey made a great fault, when he yeelded so easily to go to battel, least he should displease the yoong captains of his army and had leuer contrarie to his own determination, to ha­zard the victory which was as good as sure vnto him without stroke striking, than paciētly to here the wrōgful railings that were cast forth against him.

CHAP. IX. That Diligence is requisit in matters of state.

FOrasmuch as valeantnes or prowesse com­meth of a constant mind that is ready to aduenture without regard of danger, and magnanimitie spareth not it selfe in any thing, so honor may ensue, ne regardeth what men say or doe, so she may compasse hir affairs, for the attaining whereunto she forbeareth not any pains: me thinks it is reasonable to treat here, of that braunch of Prowesse and magnanimitie, which is called Diligēce, a vertue very wel beseeming a prince, as with­out the which he cannot raigne happily. And as Xenophon saith in his first booke of the Trainemnt of Cyrus, It is agreeable to reason, that such should prosper in their affairs, as are skilfull in them, and be diligent in going forward with them, rather than they that are ignorant and flouthfull. A prince should passe his subiects in diligence. And a little after he sayth, That a prince ought to indeuor to passe his subiects, not in sloth and idlenes, but in discretion and diligence. Plutarch sayth, That as water corrupteth that is not resored to: so the life of idle folke is corrupted and marred by sloth­fulnes, because none are helped by them. Thucidides repor­teth Alcibiades to haue said, That a citie giuen to idlenes did marre and corrupt of it selfe; but did vphold and amend it self in experience of many things by keeping it self occupied with diuers wars. We see ordinarily, that such as haue giuen o­uer themselues in idlenes, haue had ill successe in their affairs: of which sort was Galba, who said that no man was to yeeld ac­count of his idlenes, contrarie to the christian doctrine, which teacheth vs that we must yeeld account of all our idle words, and that we must put forth our talent to profit, vnder paine of punishmēt, & also cōtrarie to the law of Draco, which punished [Page 292] idle folke with death. In doing no­thing men learne to doe euill. For (as the men of old time said) in do­ing nothing, men learne to doe euill. And as Ecclesiasticus saith, Idlenes teacheth manie euill things. And therefore Amasis king of Aegipt, commanded all men to giue a reckoning dailie of their daies labors. And Solon ordained that the high court of Areopagus, should haue authoritie and charge to enquire whereof euery man liued, and to punish those whom they found idle and vn-occupied. An armie must not be su [...]ered to be idle. And Cambyses forbad Cyrus aboue all things, to suffer his armie to be idle. Vpon a time one asked D [...]onisius, whether he were at leisure and had nothing to do? God forbid (quoth he) that euer that should befall me; thin­king it to be a foule and shameful thing to be vnoccupied. And Scipio said he was neuer lesse alone, than when he was alone: because that when he was alone, he busied himselfe as well as when he was in the senat. Among the great affairs wherewith Alexander was occupied, he would now and then take some re­creation; but during those weightie affairs, there was neither feast, nor banket, nor play, nor marriage, nor any other pastime that he would stay vpon. The diligence of Iulius Ca [...] ­sar. Iulius Caesar obtained many victories by his diligence, in such wise that he amased the Carnuts, that had reuolted from him. For he passed the mountaines with such speed, that hee was in their countrie with his armie, in shorter time than a messenger could haue bin, and began to waste the countrie out of hand, afore they had any tidings of his comming: Wherewith, and with some losse that they had receiued in a battell, his enemies were so dismaid, that in the end they submitted themselues to his will. And as he was dili­gent in war, so was he not idle in the citie: but was occupied in pleasuring his freinds, in doing iustice to euery man, and in or­dering the affairs of the stare with great speed and skill; in so much that hee did bring the yeare into that order which we haue at this day, and was about to haue set the ciuill law in order of art.

Albeit that the lord of Chaulmont had but few men, yet if he had gone speedily to the besieging of Bolonia, according to his former deliberation, hee had brought the Pope to such [Page 293] a pinch, that he had driuen him to make peace, because there were but few people within the town. The harme of going slowly about a mans businesse. But by his ouerslow set­ting forth to the siege, he lost the oportunitie, for in the mean time there came in sufficient force to encounter him. Cōtrari­wise, Monsieur de Foix, by his hardines and diligence, did with­in fifteene dayes compell the armie of the Churchmen and of the Spaniards, to dislodge from before Bolona, discomfited Iohn Paule Baillon, with part of the Venetian companies in Campaine, and recouered Bresse by force of armes, where eight thousand men were put to the sword, and the rest were made prisoners. Hanniball was not onelie diligent, but also a de­spiser of all pleasures. Traian and Adrian were so diligent and skilfull in warre matters, that they knew the account of their legions, and called the most part of their men of warre by their names, the which they did so precisely, least vagabund strangers should intermeddle themselues, with them that were Romans born. And they permitted not any man, which could not good skill to handle his weapon and to fight.

Epaminondas neuer gaue himselfe any respit from dealing in matters of the state, saying that he watched for his countri­mens sakes, to the intent that they might make good cheare at their ease while he trauelled for them. Homer sayth, That it becommeth not a man of gouernment, and such a one as is to commaund manie, to sleepe the whole night. Of ouermuch sleepe. For too much sleeping is a spice of idlenesse, according to this saying of Sa­lomon in his Prouerbes, Slouthfulnesse causeth sleepe to come. Whereof Plato speaketh after this maner, Ouermuch sleepe is not good, neither for the bodie nor for the minde, nor for the doing of any businesse; and that he that is a sleepe, is as a dead man. Wherefore whosoeuer will bee wise, and well aduised, must wake as much as he can, and take no more sleepe than is requisit for his health. For ouermuch sleeping feedeth vice, as Cato sayth in his paires of verses. Salomon in the twentith of his Prouerbs sayth, Delight not in sleepe, least thou become poore, but open thine eyes that thou mayest haue foyzon of food. And in the 23. chap. he saith, That ouermuch sleeping [Page 294] maketh a man to goe in ragged clothes. For these considerati­ons the king of Persia caused a groome of his chamber to wa­ken him euerie day, and to bid him arise and intend to the af­faires of his realme, as I haue said heretofore. Therefore the Prince that is wel aduised, will not giue himselfe to ouermuch sleeping, nor shut vp himselfe in a corner to do nothing, like to Domitian, who tooke pleasure in pricking flies to death, nor cast off all affairs to thrust out the time by the shoulders. For they that will disburden themselues of their affairs, haue commonly more to do than they would haue. And as the Greekes said in their common prouerbe, A solitarie life is al [...] one with the life that is troublefull. Adoxia, that is to say, The life that is without honour, or rather the life that is elendge and solitarie, is all one with the painfull life, because that they which thinke to liue without paine alone by them­selues, are more troubled to defend themselues, from the wic­ked which be not afraid of them, and therefore do vex them, than those which folowing some trade, do trauel for the com­mon weale. And as saith Thucidides, The rest that a man ta­keth through negligence, is more hurtful to a man than labor­some toile. That was the cause, why Darius would needs plunge the Babylonians into all maner of idlenesse, that they might not haue the heart to rebell afterward. A policie of Cimon. The same poli­cie vsed Cimon, to diminish the force and power of his allies, by granting them whatsoeuer they required. After that the Per­sians were driuen out of Greece, the allies of the Athenians ceased not to contribut both men and mony, towards the ma­king of new warres, and the maintenance of an armie on the sea, wherof in the end they waxed wearie; & cōsidering with themselues that the Persians troubled them not, would not furnish them any longer with men and ships: well were they contented to pay monie for their fines; but the Athenian captaines inforced them thereunto, and condemned them at great fines if they failed. The which dealing made the domi­nion of Athens to become hatefull to their allies. But when Cimon came to the gouerning of the state, he tooke the cleane contrarie way. For he did not compell or inforce anie man [Page 295] to the warres, but was contented to take monie and emptie ships of such as listed not to serue in their owne persons: and he liked well of it that they should wax lasie and grow out of kind, by the allurements of rest at home in their houses; and of good men of warre, to let them become labourers, merchant­men, and husband-men. And in their stead, he caused a good number of the Athenians to go into their gallies, in hardening them with trauell of continuall voiages. Insomuch that within short time after, they became lords of those that had waged and intertained them, healing themselues at their cost. And in the end they made those to be their subiects and tributaries, which at the beginning had bin their fellowes and allies. Such as were but captaines, haue in the end made thē selues Dukes, Kings, & Em­perors, by their diligēc [...]. The like hath come to passe of diuerse captains that serued in the campe, and had the leading of armies: for in the end, of Cap­tains they haue made themselues dukes, kings, and emperors, as Vespasian, and other emperors without number. Tamerlane king of Tartars, Othoman king of Turks, Sforsa duke of Mil­lan, and other great lords whom it would be too long to num­ber. Nero and many others haue by their wickednes and negli­gence lost their empires. Sardanapalus by his lasinesse, lost the kingdome of Assyria. So long as the kings of France suffered their affairs to be managed by others than themselues, they were lesse esteemed than an image, surely no more than liked the master of their Palace to allow thē, who at length draue out the kings without gainsaying, as men of none account and vnprofitable. For it was the opinion of all men, that those were vnworthie to raigne and to commaund men, which were thē ­selues inferior to women, and by their vnweeldines had made themselues verie sots and beasts. Sl [...]ggishnes [...] an enemie to wisdome. For as Anacharsis saith, Idle­nesse and sluggishnesse are cruell enemies to wisdome. But he that loueth vertue, shunneth not anie paines, saith Theode­ricke. Plutarch in the life of Dion, saith That the carelesnesse and negligence of Dennis the soone, getting cōtinually the vp­per hand of him, caried him to women and bellicheere, and all vicious pastimes, & at length did break asunder his adamāt chains, that is to say, the great number of his warlike soldiers, [Page 296] and his store of Gallies, of whom his father bosted that he le [...]t his kingdome fast chained to his sonne. A king ought to be diligent in looking to his estate. And that is the reason why he that is the gouernor of a people, should intend to the state whereunto he is called, lest he receiue blame at a womās hand, as Philip and Demetrius did; of whom the one being of his owne nature gentle and easie to be spoken to, yet at that time hauing no leisure to do iustice, and the other being hard to be come vnto, did either of them learne their lessons at two poore womens hands, who told it them in one worde, saying, Then list not to be kings. This free speech of the one, made Philip to do iustice vnto hir out of hād, & the same free speech of the other, made Demetrius to begin thenceforth to become more affable to all men. Although Augustus was as peaceable a prince as euer reigned, yet failed he not to intend continual­ly to other mens matters: and sometimes to refresh his spirits, he would go from Rome to a pleasant house that he had neer vnto Naples, and yet euen there he could not be without do­ings. But the hypocrite Tiberius made his soiourning there to serue to cloke his lasinesse, or rather to discouer it. The harm that Tiberius took of his lasines. For when­soeuer he was readie to depart thither, hee gaue strait com­mandement that no man should be so bold, as to come thither to speake to him of any matters. And besides that, he set war­ders vpon the way, to stoppe such as trauelled thither. And he receiued the reward of his lasinesse. For as he was playing the drunkard in all excesse, newes was brought vnto him of the inuading of three of his Prouinces by his enimies. Vitellius was so deepe plunged in voluptuousnesse, that he had much a doo to bethinke himselfe that he was Emperour: and his end was like his life. All slouthfull princes haue either had a mi­serable or violent death, or else their names haue bene wiped out of the remembrance of mē. S [...]othfulnesse bringeth darknesse, which is a great pu­nishment. For as Plutarch saith, The ma­ner of punishing those that haue liued lewdly, is to cast them into darknesse out of all knowledge, and through euerlasting forgetfulnesse, to throw them downe into the deepe sea of slouth and idlenesse, which with his wauing bringeth darknes, and putteth folke out of knowledge. And as Theodorick saith to [Page 297] the Gothes, vnder idlenesse and slothfulnesse commendable prowes is hidden, Slouth and i­dlenesse ouer­whelm prowesse. and the light of that mans deserts is darke­ned, which hath no life to put the same in proofe. Contrari­wise, by aduenturing, by vndertaking, and by setting hand to worke, Great things are done by diligence. great things and of great value haue beene compassed, which to the carelesse and negligent seemed vnpossible, and not to be hoped for. And if the diligent and painfull haue hap­pened through their desire of honour, William Bel­lay in his Ogdoades. or by some misfortune, to end their daies with violent death: yet hath the remem­brance of their noble deeds flowne through all the worlde, and beene commended and honoured of posteritie. And as Salomon sayth in the 12. of the Prouerbs, The hand of the diligent shal bear rule. The hand of the dili­gent shall beare rule, but the idle hand shall be vnder tribute. And in another placed, An idle hand maketh poore, but a dili­gent hand maketh rich. The slouthfull person shall not gaine, nor haue whereof to feed, but the store of the diligent is pre­cious. The slouthfull person wisheth, and his heart alwayes wanteth. The idle folke shall suffer famine, but the life of the diligent shall be maintained. The slouthful man cōmeth to penurie. And in the 21. of the Prouerbs, The thoughts of the diligent tend altogither to abundance, but whosoeuer is slouthfull, shall surely come to penurie. And in the 36. Like as a doore turneth vpon the hinges, so doth the slouthfull man wallow in his bed. The sluggard hideth his hand in his bosome, and is loth to put it to his mouth. And in the 21. of Ecclesiasticus, The slouthfull man is like a filthie or mirie stone, whereof all men will speake shame. He­siodus sayth, Not trauaile but idlenes is a foule thing. That men grow rich by trauaile and diligence. For not paines taking, but idlenes is vnhonest. And he sayth moreouer, that slouthfulnesse is accompanied with scarcitie, which feeding it selfe with vaine hope, ingendreth manie e­uils in a mans mind, and keepeth a man idle in fower way leete without getting wherwith to liue. To them that watch, God reacheth out his hand. Aeschilus sayth, That vnto such as watch, god reacheth out his hand, & liketh wel to help them that take paines. We see how goods do melt away be­tweene the hands of the slouthfull, without his spending of them, and that oftentimes hee hath as little as the prodigall [Page 298] person that is diligent, according to this saying of Salomon, in the 18. of his Prouerbs, That he that is slouthful at his worke, is brother to the scatter-good; therfore men must beware of idlenes. For as saith Theodorick writing to Festus, Like as mans nature is furnished by pains taking; so by sluggish idlenesse it decayeth and becommeth beastly. Mens minds wax rusty and forgrowne by doing no­thing. Plutarch saith that mens minds do rust and forgrow through idlenes; and that as the waters that stand vnoccupied in the shadow, do gather filth and infection: so the life of them that liue in idlenesse, if it haue any thing that may auaile, yet because it is not deriued vnto others, that other men may tast thereof, the natiue force and vertue thereof becommeth corrupt and stale. And by and by after, I am of opinion (saith he) that whereas we liue and are borne, and grow to be men, it is giuen vs of God to make vs to know him. Now if this be spoken of all men, who ought to employ themselues to all vertuous actions, and make their talent profitable: what shall we say of Princes, who haue that charge of purpose, not to hide themselues in a chamber, but to be alwayes doing, and to tra­uell for those that are vnder their charge.

CHAP. X. Of Temperance.

The definitiō of Tempe­rance. Cicero in his second booke of the Ends of good and bad. NOw remaineth the last cardinall vertue, called Temperance, which in the things that are to be sought or eschewed, war­neth vs to follow reason, and is nothing else but a naturall and interchaungeable agreement, of those parts of the Soule which haue the rule of delights; the which vertue Socrates called, The brideler of bodilie pleasures; [Page 299] because all passions are moderated by that Vertue. And long time afore him, Mercurie in his Pimander, in the chapter of Regeneration, calleth it Staiednesse, a vertue contrarie to all lustings, the which he tearmeth, The foun­dation of Righteousnesse.

Plato in his Phoedo saith, That when Reason guideth a mans opinion to that which is best, that power is called Temperance. Like as on the contrarie part, wee call it Intemperance, when lust without reason draweth vs to our delights, Temperance the strength of the soule. and ouermaistreth vs. Pythagoras said, that Temperance is the strength of the mind. For as the bo­die that is well compacted together, indureth heat and cold: so they that haue their minds and vnderstandings well disposed, do easilie beare the passions of the soule, as anger, ioy, sorrow, and such other affections.

Philo the Iew saith, That the soundnesse of the soule con­sisteth in the good temperature of the irefull, lustfull, and rea­sonable powers; whereof the reasonable, as ladie and mi­stresse, by means of Temperance, brideleth the other two as restie horses. Democritus was of opinion, that Valiant­nesse consisteth not onelie in ouercomming enemies, but also insubduing desires. And as Cicero sayth in his Duties, It is no reason that he which cannot be ouercome by feare, should be ouercome by his lusts: or that he which hath not shrunke for pains taking, should yeeld to his delights. An euill com­maunder is he (saith Cato) that cannot commaund himselfe. For the patient man is better than the strong; and he that ouermaistreth his owne heart, is better than he that winneth a citie by force, The difference betweene Va­liantnesse and Temperance. saith Salomon in the sixteenth chapter of the Prouerbes. Neuerthelesse, this vertue differeth from Valiantnesse in this, that Valiantnesse vndertaketh things great, terrible, and difficult, and the other withdraweth men from the things that are pleasant and delectable. And like as Valiantnesse holdeth more of boldnesse than of feare, though it be the meane betweene them both: so Temperance being the meane betweene sensuall delightfulnes, and insensiblitie, [Page 300] approcheth nearer to insensibilitie, because it represseth the sensuall delight. Socrates said, That no man could be wise, which was not temperat. Saint Paule saith, That a good life consisteth in three things, namely Godlinesse, Vprightnesse, and Sobrietie; which sobrietie is nothing else but Tempe­rance, when we abstaine from all lustes, and suffer not our selues to be ouercome by our desires. Mercurie saith, that tem­perance is a vertue that bringeth ioy, Temperance maketh vs happie. because wee become happie by abstaining from our lusts. Among the beasts that are good or euill to eate, Moyses doth chiefly commend the Lopiomache, which representeth vnto vs Temperance, which hath continuall and deadly warre against Intempe­rance and voluptuousnesse, termed of Moyses a Serpent, be­cause the one imbraceth frugalitie, by contenting it selfe with that which is necessarie for this life without superfluitie, and the other is giuen to a kind of sumptuousnesse, which maketh the body efteminat, and the mind troubled and beastly. And like as Temperance appeaseth all desires, making them obe­dient vnto reason: Intemperance vtterly con­foundeth the state of the m [...]nde. so Intemperance marreth the vnderstan­ding vtterly. And as Cicero sayth in the fourth of his Tuscu­lane questions, The fountaine of incumberances is Intempe­rance, which withdraweth and estraungeth vs from true rea­son, and is so contrarie vnto it, that it is vnpossible to gouerne and restraine the lusts and desires of the heart. And therefore in the ten Commandements, we be forbidden to couet or lust after any maner of thing. For of this coueting springeth In­temperance, the roote of all euils, as Saint Paule after manie others calleth it in his Epistle to Timothie. And saint Iohn saith, That in this world is nothing else but coueting and lusting af­ter the delights of the flesh (vnder the which may be compre­hended Lecherie, Slouth, and Gluttonie) and coueting after the delight of the eies (vnder the which are cōprehended the desire of riches) which containeth in it all maner of vsurie, robberie, niggardship and extorcion. And desire of honour which he calleth the pride of life, (vnder the which wee may comprehend all vaineglorie, wrath, and enuie) as I haue said [Page 301] afore in treating of enuy. There was a certaine yong man, that said it was a goodly thing to haue all that a man could wish. But a certaine Philosopher named Monedemus, answered, that it was a goodlier thing not to desire that whereof a man had no neede. Plato and Thales of Milet, counted that man happie, which was not couetous, because hee was maister of his lusts. And Socrates (as Xenophon reporteth) was of opinion that that man could not be vertuous, that was a seruant to his delights, and that none but they which haue stay of them­selues, doe say and doe that which is best; who chusing the good, and refusing the euill, do make themselues happie. For he liueth well at ease, He liueth most at ease, that is contē ­ted with least. that is contented with a little. And Epi­curus said, That that man had nothing at all, which could not away with a little. Menander called Temperance the store­house; & Socra [...]es, the foundation of vertue: because he which thrusteth downe voluptuousnesse, Temperance the founda [...]iō of all vertue▪ doth consequently and of necessitie acquire all vertues. As for example, He that is not nice, daintie nor gluttonous, nor desirous of women, nor coue­tous of riches, nor reacheth out his hand to receyue rewardes, and can skill to bridle his anger, his harted, his enuie, his sor­row, his feare, and his ioy: for ioy (as sayth Plutarch in the life of Aratus beeing entered into a mans minde, maketh him sometimes besides himselfe, and worketh him greater incum­berance of minde, than either sorrow or feare doe. On the contrarie part, we call him an vntemperant man, which is vi­cious and letteth himselfe loose vnto voluptuousnesse, and which (as Plato saith in his Phoedon) suffereth himselfe to be ouerruled by his delights, the which a man ought to passe by, with his eares stopped, as if they were Meremaids. For they bee enemies to reason, Voluptuous­nesse blindeth the eyes of the minde. impediments to all good aduice, and blindnesse of the vnderstanding. For wheresoeuer voluptuous­nesse is, there vertue hath no place. Therefore Ecclesiasticus turneth vs away from it in these wordes, C [...]cero in his duties. Go not (sayth he) af­ter thy lusts, neither turne thee aside after thy pleasure. Ar­chitas the Tarentine said, That the greatest plague that euer Nature brought forth in this world, is delectation or voluptu­ousnesse. [Page 302] For out of that fountaine come all the mischiefs that we haue. Philo the Iew saith, That voluptuousnesse is likea harlot, who to enioy the man whom shee loueth, seeketh bawds to set her loue abroch, the which are the senses whom voluptuousnesse winneth first of all, by them to subdue the vnderstanding afterward. For the senses reporting within what they haue seene without, do represent vnto the vnderstan­ding, whatsoeuer they haue seene, and imprint in it the same affection. Antisthenes affirmed that he had leuer to be sense­lesse, than to be surprised with voluptuousnesse; for voluptu­ousnesse bereaueth a man of his vnderstanding, Voluptuous­nes bereaueth men of their wit. no lesse than follie doth, and follie may be remedied by medicine, but so cannot the other. And when it was said vnto him, that it was a great pleasure to liue deliciously, I pray God (quoth he) that such pleasure may befall to the children of our enemies. At such time as Fabricius was Ambassadour vnto Pyrrhus, Cineas told him how he had heard a great Philosopher in Athens, counsell men to referre all their doings to plea­sure. Which thing seemed so strange to Fabricius, that he prayed God to giue such wisdome to Pyrrhus, and the Sam­nites. When one asked of Agesilaus, Voluptuous­nes the plague of all cōmon­weales. what profit the lawes of Licurgus yeelded: The despising of pleasures (quoth he) meaning to declare thereby, that all commonweales, are more confounded by deliciousnesse, than by other things. And for that cause, when Darius had ouercome the Lydians, he ordained that they should vse perfumes, and that they should do nothing but daunce, leape, haunt tauerns, and be finely apparelled, to the intent that by that meanes becom­ming altogither effeminat, they might not haue the courage to rebell afterward. Pyrrhus seeing the Tarentines to be too full of dilicatenesse, and to set their minds to make warre with words more than with deeds: forbad all assemblies to feasts, to mumries, and to such other effects of ioifulnesse, then out of season, and brought them backe to the exercise of armes, shewing himselfe seuere to them that were inrolled in his muster-booke, and bound to go to the warres.

[Page 303]When one wondered that all the Lacedemonians liued so soberly: Libertie is maintained by frugalitie. Maruell not (quoth Agesilaus) for of this thrifti­nesse we reape a good crop, meaning freedome: as who would say, that libertie could not continue long with voluptuous­nesse and delights. The Persians on a time would haue shif­ted their dwelling place, from the hill grounds into the plains: but Cyrus would not permit it; Mens maners change accor­ding to the countries. saying that as plants and seeds, so also mens maners altered according to the nature of the soile; deeming wisely, That the lesse delicate countrie, yeel­deth the best men. As for example, Vlysses said of Ithaca, That it was a poore countrie, but it bred verie good men. And so said the king of Scythia to Philip king of Macedonie: Thou reignest (quoth he) ouer the Macedonians, who be great warriours; and I reigne ouer the Scythians, who be woont to endure hunger and thirst.

Sandaris a well aduised lord of Lydia, would haue staied Craesus from leading his host into Persia against Cyrus. You go to make warre (quoth he) against a people whose clo­thing is but of leather, whose food is not such as they list, but such as they can get, whose drinke is water, who eat not figs, or anie other such dainties. If ye ouercome them, ye can take nothing from them, because they haue nothing: and if you be ouercome, consider well what goods ye shall lose. As soone as they shall haue tasted of our goods, they will hie them a­pace hither, and we shall not be able to driue them away. It is verie hard, yea and vtterly vnpossible, that persons tenderly brought vp, should vanquish them that be temperat & inured to trauell and pains-taking. And no maruel though Ep [...]ctetus had this saying alwayes in his mouth, To beare and forbeare. Beare and forbeare: that is to say, we must with patience beare and indure things hard and euill, The vntempe­rat man is vn­iust. and by the vertue of Temperance forbeare our de­lights and pleasures, for that is the thing wherin the vertue cō ­sisteth. And as Plato saith, He that is a staid man, is a friend to god, After what maner plea­sure is to be [...]ought. for he resembleth him. And whosoeuer is vntemperat, is contrarie to God, and vnrighteous. I say not that pleasure is not to be sought at all: but (as Plato saith in his Gorgias) [Page 304] it is to be sought so far foorth, as it is matched with profit, as health and strength of bodie are, the which we seeke for the benefit of them, and not the benefit for the pleasures sake. And as Aristippus saith, That man moderateth pleasure, not which abstaineth vtterly from it, but which vseth it in such sort, as he is not caried away with it, as we gouern a ship or a horse, when we lead them whether we list. For Reason (as saith Demosthe­nes) must be the mistresse of lusts. Also a man may take plea­sure of the fiue sences of nature without offence, as when a man taketh delight in eating and drinking, because hee is well a hungred and a thirst, for the pleasure that a man taketh in his tast, commeth of sobrietie: and when a man scratcheth where it itcheth, that touching is not faultie; as for example, Socrates tooke singuler delight in rubbing himselfe after hee had indured the stockes. The difference of the fiue sences. Yet notwithstanding, ordinarily these two sences are most dangerous aboue all the other, when a man taketh more pleasure of them than he should doe, the which befalleth not to the other: as for example, if a man take pleasure in colours & paintings, albeit there be too much or too little, yet is he not therefore accounted either temperat or vntemperat; neither he likewise that is too much giuen to the hearing of accounts, or of songs; nor hee that taketh too much delight in sents and smels, but rather they that delight in the sauours of meats and drinks, because that those sents re­new the remembrance of the things which they loue: as for example, the emperour Claudius at the onely sent of the rost­meat, that was prepared at a feast that was made for the Salian priests, did by and by leaue all his affairs, and went to dine with them. Also they that see or heare any speeches of the things which they loue, are tickled with some pleasure therof, which being entered in at the eies or the eares, taketh such root in the heart, that it is hard to put it away againe. For that cause when Sophocles beheld a faire yoong boy and commended his beautie, one told him, That it became him to haue not onely chast hands, but also chast eies. Candaules king of Lidia hauing a ladie of most excellēt beautie to his wife, shewed her naked [Page 305] to a friend of his named Gyges: but the sight of hir so inflamed the heart of Gyges, that he murthered the king, to marrie hir. The people of Bisance being besieged of Philip, sent Ambas­sadors vnto him to know what iniurie he pretended to be done by them. And he sent them back againe without any good answer, saying that they were great fools, & like to one that hauing a faire wife demanded of them that resorted often to hir, Concupis­cence the cause of verie great sins. wherfore they came thither: meaning that the beautie of their town, made him desirous to win it. And for that cause doth our Lord and lawgiuer say, that he which lusteth after a woman sinneth as much as if he had to do with hir, by reason of the consent which he hath giuen to the sinne, the performance wherof ingendereth death. For when lust is once entred in, it is hard to keepe the rest from following after, or at leastwise to forbeare to giue attempt to obtaine the rest, as the iudges did to Susan, Dauid to Bersabee, and Tarquin to Lucreece. Well may we hear, see, and smel a far off; but we cannot touch or tast, but the things that are neere at hand. And that is the cause that we haue most delectation by those feelings. Moreouer, nature hath conueied into them, all the pleasantnes that she could, to the intent that that pleasure should maintaine al liuing wights, which cannot liue but by eating and drinking, nor be increased and continued without the act of copulation, specially the brute beasts, which would neither feede nor ingender, if they were not prouoked therto by nature. And as touching hounds which follow freshly vpon the sent of things, it is not for any pleasure that they haue in the hunting, but for the pleasure which they haue to eat it. The lion taketh no delight in the lowing of a bugle or an oxe, nor in the sight of a goodlie stagge, otherwise than by accident, that is to say for that he hopeth that it is meat prepared for him to dine vpon. Temperance consisteth most in ea­ting and drin­king and in vse of women. Ther­fore I say that temperance, consisteth chiefly and most peculi­arly in eating and drinking, and in vse of women. And as Plato saith, Al things seeme to depend cheifly vpon three necessities and inward desires; of the which being well ordered, springeth the vertue of temperance, or contrariwise the vice of intempe­rance, [Page 306] if they be vnrulie. Two of them be in al liuing wights as soone as they be borne; namely, the desire to eat and to drink: and because euery liuing creature hath a naturall appetite, euen from his very birth, therefore is hee carried vnto it euen with a violent and forcible desire, and cannot abide to heare him that shall tell him he must doe otherwise. But the third necessitie, lust, or pregnant desire, which serueth for propaga­tion and generation, commeth a certaine time after, and yet it burneth men with a hote furie, and carrieth them with a won­derfull loosenesse. These three diseases enforcing vs after that maner to the things that we most like of, must be turned to the better by feare, by law, and by true reason. S. Ierome writing to Furia sayth, The lust of women is within vs, and therfore hard to oue [...]come. That this lust is harder to subdue that the others, because it is within vs, whereas other sinnes are without vs. As for example, Niggardlinesse may be laid downe by casting vp a mans purse a farre of: the railer is corrected, if he be com­manded to hold his peace; a man may in lesse than an houre, change rich aparell into meane: only the desire which God hath endued vs withall for procreation, doth by a certaine constraint of nature, run to carnall copulation. Wherefore great diligence is to be vsed for the vanquishing of nature, that in the flesh a man may not liue fleshly. Some haue taken Temperance more largely, as Anaoharsis the Scythian, who said that a man ought to haue stay of his toung, of his bellie, and of the priuie parts. Which thing Plato hath declared more largely in his Phoedon, saying of the inordinat appetits of Intemperance, that there be diuerse sorts of names of them, according as they themselues are diuers. For the lust of things aboue the nauell concerning foode is called gluttony, and he that is possessed of that vice, is called a glutton; he that is o­uermaistered with drinking, is called a drunkard: that which forceth a man to the pleasute and ouerliking of a beautifull visage, and surmounteth reason in the desire thereof, is called loue: and the like may we say of all lust that ouermaistreth the opinion which tendeth to well doing. Pythagoras said that we must chiefly moderat these things; namely the belly, [Page 307] sleepe, the desire of the flesh, and choler, wherof I will speake particularly hereafter, after that I haue exhorted princes to Temperance generally, as to the vertue which is most neces­sarie. For the desire of honour may lead a prince to prowesse, Co [...]tous­nes an ordi­nary fault in princes. and withdraw him from cowardlines, but it is hard to re­claime him from couetousnes. For the desire of hauing more, is the ordinarie vice of princes and great lords; so that if they desire women, banquets, or feasts, no man pulleth them back, but rather flatterers allure them thereunto. Wherfore it standeth them on hand to withdraw themselues from them and to beare in mind, that a man may be temperat without danger, but he cannot attaine to prowesse without putting himselfe in perill of warre. And the cause why valeantnes is preferred before Temperance, is, that valeantnes is the har­der to attaine vnto: But to haue the traine of vertues which consist in the sensitiue appetit; Temperance will obtaine more than valeantnes, which is peculiar to those that are hardie, and is hard by reason of the perill wherwith it is matched. Wherin Tem­perance con­sisteth. But this vertue of Temperance is easie and void of all perill, and consisteth but in the contempt of volup­tuousnes, the which as S. Iohn Chrisostome saith in his xxij Ho­milie, Voluptuous­nes like to a dog. Is like a dog: if you driue him away, he is gone; if yee make much of him, he will abide with you. Democritus saith that Temperance increaseth the pleasure of things. Temperance increaseth pleasure. Which thing Epicurus considering, who placed all mans pleasure in voluptuousnes, dranke nothing but water, ne ate other than crible bread, saying that he did it according to his profession, because it liked him better to eat little, and to vse meats that were least delicat. And yet neuerthelesse he gaue himselfe to Temperance, granting the thing in effect which he denied in his words, namly that vertue was the chief cause of pleasure. Also it is most commonly said, that ther is not a better sauce than appetit. And to haue grear pleasure of any thing whatsoeuer it be, a man must taste of his contraie, as of hunger to find meat sweet, and of thirst to feele drinke pleasant; after the example of Darius, who drinking vp a [Page 308] glasse of water, good God (quoth he) from how great a plea­sure haue I bin barred heretofore. Ptolomy in making a rode through the countrie of Aegypt, happened to want wherewith to dine, because his vittels followed him not, insomuch that for the hunger that pinched him, he was faine to eat a morsel of bread in a poor mans cottage, saying he neuer ate better bread nor with better appetite. Diogenes said, It was a strange thing, that wrestlers and singing-men despised their bellie and their pleasures; the one to haue a good voice, and the other to haue the stronger bodie: and that for temperance sake no man re­garded so to doe. A notable precept for Temperance. Isocrates in the exhortation which he giueth to Demonicus, giueth this precept for temperance worthy to be noted, Bethinke your selfe (saith he) to become temperat and staied, in the things which you would esteeme vile and shame­ful, if your mind were hild down in them, as lucre, wrath, sensu­ality, & sorrow. Now it wil be easie for you to haue stay of your selfe, if you set your mind to the obtainment of the things that may increase your renowne, and not your reuenues. As tou­ching anger, you must vse no greater towards others, than you would that others should vse towards you. In the things that bring pleasure, you shall easily temper your selfe, if you consi­der what a shame it is for you to command your slaues, and in the meane while your selfe to be a slaue vnto voluptuousnes. Your sorrowes you shall be able to moderat, by beholding the miseries of other men, and by considering that you be a mortal man. And aboue all you shall be stirred vp to do good, if you consider that vpon that point dependeth pleasure. For in the idle life which seeketh nothing but feasting and cheering, the pleasantnes endeth forthwith togither with the pleasure: but when a man intendeth to vertue and purposeth vpon a sobriety in al his life, What plea­sure is to be sought. it giueth him a true ioy and a longlasting. There­fore none other pleasure is to be fought, than such as bringeth honor: for the pleasure is noughtworth that is not matched with honor. Alexander Seuerus said T,hat an ill conditioned prince doth often spend his treasures in superfluity of apparrell & cu­riosity of feasts, which he needs for the maintenance of wars. [Page 309] Againe he ware no gold nor precious stones: saying that a prince ought not to measure himselfe by the things which couer the bodie, but by the goodnesse and vertue of his mind. Plutarch in the life of Philopemen saith, Voluptuous­nes maketh men nice and effeminat. that by superfluitie and sumptuousnesse in houshold-stuffe, apparell, and fare, manie haue beene brought to seeke the delights, that make nice and effeminate the courages of such as vse them, because the tick­ling of the outward sense that is delighted with them, doth by and by soften and loosen the stoutnes & strength of the mind. I say (quoth Agapete to Iustinian) that you are now rightly a king, seeing that you can rule and gouerne your delights, by wearing on your head the diadem of Temperance. A king is lord of al, but then specially when he ouerruleth himselfe, and is not subiect to euil lusts, but (by help of reason wherthrough he ouerruleth the vnreasonable affections) maketh himselfe lord and master by meanes of Temperance, ouer the lusts that bring all the world in subiection, which thing those could well skill to do, which haue had most estimation in the world. Sci­pio was so temperat, that in foure and fiftie yeeres which he li­ued, he neither sold nor purchased nor builded: and hauing ra­sed two great cities, namely Numance and Carthage, yet he enriched not himselfe with the spoils of them; insomuch that at his death, he left behind him no more but three and thirtie pound of siluer, and two pound of gold. Paulus Aemilius had such stay of himself, that he neuer tooke one penie of the trea­sure of Perseu [...], ne died richer than did Aristides. Lysander and infinit other Greeks and Romans famous in histories, Lacedemoni­ans trained vp from the shell in Temperāce and spe­cially the Lacedemonians, were trained vp in Temperance from their youth, and taught to keepe themselues from being corrupted with monie, as Herodotus reporteth of one Gorgo a little daughter of Cleomenes, of the age of eight or nine yeeres. In the presence of this little wench, one Aristagoras intreated Cleomenes to do so much with the Lacedemonians, as to cause them to send an armie into Asia, promising to giue him ten ta­lents for his labour; when Cleomenes refused, he offered him fiftie: The pretie wench hearing that tooke her father aside, [Page 310] and said vnto him, My father, if you get you not hence, this guest will corrupt you. Whereat Cleomenes departed present­ly, without hearkning to Aristagoras any more. The Tempe­rance and staidnesse of Titus Quintius, Quintius won mo cities by Temperance than by the sword. gate mo countries to the Romans, than all their forces had done. First of all after that he had woon the battell, although his vittels followed him not, yet made he his men of warre to march on still, in such sort as they tooke not any thing in the countrie where they went, notwithstanding that they found great abundance of goods, the which his forbearing he found anon after how greatly it auailed him: for as soon as he was come into Thes­salie, the cities yeelded themselues willingly vnto him, and all the rest of the Greeks required nothing, but to giue thēselues vnto him. Demetrius was subiect to his belly, & to women; and yet in the time of warre he was as sober and chast, as they that be naturally giuen thereunto; rightly deeming that he could not ouercome his enemies vnlesse he were temperate. But yet at length, Demetrius ex­p [...]l [...]ed for [...] when he let himselfe loose to his pleasures, the Ma­c [...]do [...]ns draue him out, saying that they were wearie of bea­ring armes, and of fighting for his pleasures.

CHAP. XI. That he that will dispatch his affaires well, must be Sober.

I Said afore, that Temperance is chief­ly ouer the bellie, and the priuie parts, the tongue, and choler. Now must I speake in order of these foure sorts of Temperance, and first of all I will speake of that which concer­neth the bellie, that is to say, which concerneth eating and drinking, the which we call Abstinence or Sobrietie; the contrarie wher [...] ­of we call Gluttonie, a foule and filthie vice, specially in a [Page 311] Prince. For as saith Mercurie Trismegistus, It berea [...]eth a man of all goodnesse, whereas Sobrietie doth maruellouslie become him. For Sobrietie withdraweth him not from his affaires for chearing, and therewith it exempteth him from al diseases, that often come of fulnesse, through too much eating and drinking. The sober mā hath his wit the more at will. It preserueth a mans wit the clearer, to iudge soundly of the matters that come afore him; whereas he that hath vapours in his braine through too much meat that is cast into the stomacke, cannot be so fit for the ordering of them, by reason of his distemperature. Cicero in his Tusc [...]lan questions. For it is hard to occupie our wit well, when we haue eaten and drunken too much. And S. Ierom saith, in his rule of Monks, We cannot applie our selues to wisdome, if we set our minds vpon the abundance of the table; and that nothing but belly-cheare & lechery do make vs to court riches. For this cause Salomon esteemeth them vn­happy, that are vnder a king that is early at his feeding; that is to say, which is subiect to his mouth. Cato said, That we must take so much meat and drinke, as is requisit to maintaine the strength of the bodie, and not as shall accloy it. And as Cicero saith in his Duties, We must referre our feeding to the health and strength of our bodies, and not vnto pleasure. And Socrates saith, That we must so vse our feeding, as neither bodie nor mind be ouercharged therwith. And therefore Ecclesiasticus in the seuen and thirtith chapter saith thus; Be not greedie of thy meat, neither thrust thy hand into euery dish, for the mul­titude of meats procureth diseases, and of ful feeding breedeth choler. A man of moderat diet prolongeth his life. Many haue died of Gluttonie, but he that abstaineth shall prolong his life. Our Lord in the 21 of Saint Luke com­maundeth vs to beware, that our hearts be not accloied with wine and meat. And S. Paule to the Ephesians, forbiddeth vs to take too much wine, as wherein lieth surfetting. Horace in the second of his sermons, describeth naturally the plea­sure and discōmoditie of too much feeding. Plinie saith, That simple meats are most wholsom for the body, & that al sawses and sawcepikets are daungerous and deadly. Such as haue written of antiquities, say, That in the time of Saturne, [Page 312] the world neither ate flesh nor dranke wine; wherein they a­gree with our diuines, who put vs out of doubt, that the vse of flesh and wine was vnknowne afore the vniuersall flood. The Esseans liued longest of all the Iewes, because they did most abstaine, and vsed least daintie meats. There were three sorts of feeding in Persia, wherof the excellentest contented them selues with hearbs and meale. Saint Iohn Chrysostome in his fiue and fiftith Homilie saith, A poore table is the mother of health. That a poore table is the mo­ther of health, and a rich table is the mother of diseases, as of headach, of quaking of the limbs, of agues, of gouts, and of o­ther diseases more dangerous than hunger. For hunger kil­leth within few daies, but excesse rotteth a mans bodie by peecemeale, and pineth away the flesh with sicknesse, and in the end killeth him with a cruell death. Againe in the mind it breedeth testinesse, melancholie, slouth, and vnweeldinesse: and there is not any thing that driueth away so many diseases, as moderat diet. That which I say tendeth not to the vtter taking away of all feasts, Of feasts and ba [...]quets. for as Plutarch saith in his banket of the seuen Sages, They that take away the vse of eating and drinking one with another, take away that which is strongest in friendship. And our bodies cannot receiue a greater plea­sure, nor a more rightfull, familiar and agreeable to nature: because that by that means men communicat, and participat of the selfe same vittels. Socrates did oftentimes banquet and gather good companies togither, whom he entertained well, howbeit soberlie and without superfluitie, delighting them more with his mirthfull and sweet talke, than with his meats and drinks. Insomuch that afterward, sober and merrie meals were called Socratissis meals.

And this maner did Plato well hold still of his maister: For he entertained his guests well, but without anie superflui­tie. Which thing Timothie of Athens marked well in him, who hauing had verie good and conuenient intertainment at his hand, howbeit without any great furniture of meats; at his meeting with him the next morning, thanked him for that his supper had done him pleasure, not onely for the present [Page] time, The Sobrietie of the Lace­demonians. but also the day after. The Lacedemonians were won­derfull sober in eating and drinking, and had certaine publike places called Phidities, where they ate verie soberly; where­of it came, that when men would speake of a small pittance, they would liken it to a meale of the Phiditie. A spare diet is the School­mist [...]es of wi [...]e counsell. And when a certaine stranger asked them, Why they drunke so liltle? To the intent (answered they) that we may counsell other men, and not other men counsell vs. Meaning to shew by that an­swer, that the greatest drinkers are not the best in counsell, but that Sobrietie breedeth good aduice. For temperate diet is the schoolmistresse of good and sage counsell, as said Sophocles. Epicurus said, That he should esteeme himselfe alway alike happie, so he might haue bread and water. For the appetite of eating and drinking, consisteth more in hunger and thirst, than in the delicatnesse of wines and meats. The Lacedemo­nians in stead of all other dainties, had for their first dish a broth that was blacke and of small taste, whereof notwith­standing they made great account. Dennis the tyrant would haue tasted thereof, because they liked it so well; and he had a Lacedemonian cooke that prepared thereof for him: but when he had tasted of it, he liked not of it. Then said his cooke vnto him, that it was not to be wondered, if he misli­ked it, seeing it was not seasoned as it should be, that is to say, with trauell in hunting and running, The sawces of the Lacede­monians. nor with hunger & thirst, which are the sawces that the Lacedemonians vse to season their meats withall.

On a time the queene of Caria gaue Alexander great store of delicate meats, for the which he thanked her: howbeit in taking them, he told her that he had much better than those, that is to wit, for dinner the iourney that he marched afore daylight, and for supper a small dinner. For a great dinner hin­dereth a good supper, as Diogenes said to a yong man that ate nothing to his supper but Oliues; If thou hadst dined (quoth he) after this maner, thou wouldest not feed as thou dost. Mo men die of eating too much, than of hunger, as saith Theog­nis. And as the cōmon prouerbe saith, The mouth killeth mo [Page 314] men than the sword. Cato said it was hard for that common­weale to endure long, wherin a little fish, was sold deerer than a great oxe. Socrates said, That most men liued to eat, but he himselfe ate to liue. It was said of the emperor Bonosus, that he was borne to eat and drinke, the which hath a better grace in latin, Non vt viuat natus est, sed vt bibat. He that listeth to see more thereof, let him read Iuuenal in his eleuenth Satire. Let vs ad hereunto, The pamper­ing of the bo­dy s [...]arueth the soule. that which Porphirie saith, That the pampe­ring and glutting of the bodie starueth the soule, and by in­creasing that which is mortall, it hindereth and casteth vs back from the life eternal. And as Galen saith, The mind that is choked vp with greace and blood, cannot vnderstand any heauenly thing. A fat belly a­fordeth not a good wit. And S. Ierom saith, That a fat paunch cannot breed a good and sharpe wit. For Plinie saith, That such as haue great bellies, haue slender wits. Therefore we call him a glutton, A Glutton. which eateth either too much or too hastilie, or oftener than he needeth besides his ordinarie meales, or that seeketh delicate and daintie meats. A Drunkard. And we call him a drunkard, which drinketh out of measure. For, to drinke wine moderatly, is not forbidden. And as Anacharsis said, The first draught serueth for health, the second for pleasure, the third for shame, and the fourth for madnesse. For as Herodotus saith, Drunkennes putteth a man out of his wits, and makes him mad. Moyses forbiddeth the priests to drinke wine, or any other drinke that may make men drunken, during the time that they were in their course of sacrifi­sing.

Plato in his common-weale forbiddeth magistrats wine, du­ring the time of the executing of their office, and also children vntill they be eighteene yeares old, for feare of putting fire to fire. For great heed ought to be taken, that we driue not youth into a setled disposition of furie. And after that time he will haue them to vse wine moderatly. And when they be come to fortie years, then they may drinke the more liberally, as a remedie against the waywardnesse of old age. And in the same booke, He that is full of wine (sayth he) both draweth [Page 315] and is drawne hither and thither. And therefore a drunkard as a man besides himselfe, The drunkard is vnm [...]et to beget childrē. is vnmeete for generation; because it is likely that his procreation shall be vnequall, crooked and vnstable, as well in members as in maners. And therefore he saith, That a drunkard being set in any state of gouernment, whatsoeuer it be, vndoeth and marreth all, whether it be ship or armed chariot, or any other thing whereof he hath the guiding and gouernment. The Carthaginenses prohibited wine to their magistrats and men of warre, and so doth also Mahomet to all those that hold of his law. It was felonie for the magistrats of Locres to drinke wine, without the licence of a Phisition. And the yong Romans dranke no wine, afore they were twentie yeeres old.

Atheneus saith, That the Greeks neuer dranke wine with­out water, and that sometimes they put fiue glasses of water to one of wine, and sometime but two of water to foure of wine. Hesiodus will haue men to put three parts of water to one of wine. Sophocles mocked the poet Aeschylus, for that he neuer wrote but when he was well drunken. For al­though he write well (saith he) yet writeth he vnaduised­lie. Aristophanes termed wine the milke of Venus, Wine is the milk of Venu [...]. because it prouoketh men to lecherie. And Horace saith, That a cup of wine, is the companion of Venus. And for that cause, a certaine Iewish sect called Esseans, who were holier and of better conuersation than the Pharisees, or than the Saduces who were heretikes; abstained from wine and wo­men, as witnesseth Iosephus in his Antiquities. Osee saith, That wine and fornication bereaue men of their harts; that is to wit, Wine dim­meth and o­uercommeth wisdome▪ of right vnderstanding and discretion. For wine hideth and darkeneth wisdome. And Salomon in the the 23 of the Prouerbs, saith, That the drunkard and the glutton shall be­come poore. And in another place, Who (saith he) haue mis­fortune, who haue sorrow, who haue trouble, who haue sigh­ing, who haue stripes without cause, and who haue [...]aintnes of eyes? Euen they that sit at the wine, and straine themselues to emptie the cuppes. Wine is alluring, but in the end it [Page 316] stingeth like a serpent, and leaueth his sting behind him like an aspworme. At that time, thine eies shall see strangers, and thy hart shall vtter fond things. Plinie in the 14 booke of his naturall Historie saith among other things, The inconue­niences of drinking too much. that it maketh the eies water, the hands quiuering, the nights vnquiet, lewd dreames, a stinking breath in the morning, and vtter forget­fulnesse of all things. Moderate wine helpeth concoction, and the sinewes; and abundance thereof hurteth them. Esau by his gluttonie, lost his birthright. Noe by his drunkennesse became a laughing stocke to his owne children; and Lot delt shamefully with his owne daughters. Betweene a drunken man and a mad man, Drunkennesse is a peti-madnesse. is small difference. And as Crysippus saith, Drunkennesse is a peti-madnesse; as we read of Alexander, who in his drunkennesse was commonly furious. And as Strabo saith, Like as a small wind doth easily carie him away that is swaieng forward alredie, so a little greef doth easily make him mad, that hath taken in too much wine. And Sophocles saith, A drunken man is easily caried away with choler, and hath no vnderstanding: whereby it commeth to passe, that when he hath rashly discharged his tongue, he is constrained afterward whether he will or no, to heare of it at their hands of whom he railed in his lustinesse. For who so euill speaketh (saith He­siodus) shall shortly after heare more of it than he had spo­ken. Theognis saith, That as gold is tried by fire, so is a mans mind by wine. A mans dispo­sition is be­wrayed by wine. For wine bereaueth him of all knowledge, and consequently of all aduisement and meane to dissemble, so as it is ill done to commit anie secrets to a drunkard. If a drun­kard offended in his drunkennesse, Pittacus would haue him punished with double punishment, that he should the rather abstaine from drunkennesse.

The Romans did put them out of the Senate, that were drunkards. In old time a man could not put away his wife ex­cept she had beene an adultresse, A remedie for drunkennesse. a witch, or a wine drinker. To eschue this vice, we will take the remedie of Anacharsis; who counselled them that were subiect to that vice, to be­hold how drunken men behaued themselues, or rather (as [Page 317] Pithagoras said) to bethinke them of the things that a drun­ken man hath done. That was the cause why the Lacede­monians made their bondslaues drunken, that their yong folk might learne to hate drunkennesse, when they saw those poore soules out of their wits, and scorned at all hands. Fur­thermore it is to be considered, what mischiefs haue come of drunkennesse, whereof all stories are full: as how the armie of Thomiris was discomfited by Cyrus, for that they hauing drunke too much, were laid downe and falne a sleepe. How the citie Abida in Mesopotamia was lost by drunkennesse, because the men that were set to gard the tower of Hippo­nomethere, hauing drunke too much, were falne into so deep a sleepe, that they were surprised by their enemies, and slaine afore they could awake. In general for frugality, we must haue the vertue of Temperance before our eies, which warneth vs to follow reason, and to eschue superfluitie of eating and drinking, vnder colour that we haue whereof to make good cheere; and say as Alcamenes did, who being vpbraided that he liued so sparingly and poorely for the riches that he had, said, That he which hath great reuenues, ought to liue accor­ding to reason, and not at his pleasure. For frugalitie doth al­way well beseeme a Prince, so long as it proceed not of ni­gardship. Our former kings lost their kingdome, through fol­lowing their delights. Of the sobrie­tie of diuerse princes. King Charles the seuenth, who was woont to sup with three yong pigeons, and a brest of mut­ton, raised the siege of the Englishmen before Orleans, and recouered the whole realme of France from them. Antonie and Cleopatra, who spent three or foure hundred thousand French crownes at a banquet in one day, were vanquished by Octauius, who was sober, and contented himselfe with com­mon meats, eating and drinking but little. Also Iulius Caesar was sober, and a small drinker, and it was said of him, That he was the onely sober man that went about to ouerthrow the state; as who would say, the subuerting of states belonged ra­ther to drunkards and giddi-headed persons, than to men that are sober and discreet. Romulus was sober, and a small [Page 318] drinker. And when it was said of him, That if all men did as he did, wine would be good cheape: Nay (quoth he) it would rather be deare if euerie man should drinke as much as I do, who do drinke as much as I list. Tiberius as if he had beene a very thriuing and sparing man, would be serued the next day, with the meats that had been dressed for his supper the night afore, with a pretence of nigardship: but to say the truth, it was but to mocke and deceiue the world: for at the last he would drinke well. By meanes whereof, when he was yet a yong man long afore he was emperour, being in the campe, in stead of Tiberius, he gate himselfe the name of Biberius, and in stead of Claudius, he gate himselfe the name of Cal­dius, and in stead of Nero, he gat himselfe the name of Mero. And good cause why: for he bestowed two dayes, and one night together, in nothing else but eating and drinking with Pomponius, Flaccus, and Lucius Piso, to whom he gaue great presents, and committed vnto them the managing of great affaires, in recompence of their gluttonie, calling them men for all hours.

The way to eschew glut­tonie.To eschue this vice, we must follow the counsell of So­crates, who would haue men to forbeare all meats and drinks, that allure the appetite more than is behooffull for the staun­ching of hunger and thirst. For dilicat meats prouoke fee­ding, and make men tender and subiect to manie diseases. Contrariwise, they that vse no daintie meats, are more strong and lustie than the other sort, as we see in men of the coun­trie, seruants, and poore men, who without comparison are stronger than citizens, Through dis­order of diet we depriue our selues of the health which we pray for. maisters, and rich men. Democritus said, There is not any man which doth not pray and make vowes to God for his owne health, and yet we do the contrarie to that which we sue for. For by our vnruli­nesse we bereaue our selues of the health which we might obtaine by Sobrietie. If we see a countrie infected with any daungerous disease, we flee from it a hundred leagues off, and as much as we can, we shun all contagious aires. There is no man but he shunneth blowes, and dreadeth death, vnlesse that [Page 319] prowesse put him forward. And yet all men run into int [...]mpe­rance, which causeth death, and which (as Hesiodus saith) be­traieth vs into a cruell old age, that is to say, to a swift, hastie, vntimely, and vnripe old age.

CHAP. XII. Of Continencie, and Incontinencie.

THe second sort of Temperance con­cerneth women, which we may call Continencie and Chastitie: and the contrarie we may call Incontinencie, or lecherousnesse. Tertullian calleth Chastitie the flower of maners, the honour of the bodie, and the ground of holinesse. The greatest personages haue eschued mariage and women. Saint Cyprian calleth it the ornament of maners, the holinesse of fathers, and the crowne of concord. How great this vertue is, and how ac­ceptable to God, those holie persons that haue vowed them­selues vnto it, do witnesse vnto vs; and also the excellen­test Philosophers, the most part of whom eschewed both mariage and women, to the intent they might haue their minds more attentiue & lifted vp to heauenly things, because that such are meetest for contemplation, and beloued of God. Which thing Saint Iohn intending to shew vnto vs, saith in the fourteenth of the Apocalips, That he saw a hundred and foure and fortie thousand men, which sung a new song before the throne of God, and that none other but those hundred and foure and fortie thousand could sing that song. And these (saith he) are those which haue not defiled themselues with women, because they be virgins, & follow the lambe whether soeuer he goeth. He magnifieth the martyrs & other holy cō ­fessors, but of these only he saith, That they follow the lambe whersoeuer he becom: giuing honor & prerogatiue to virgins. [Page 320] And such as cannot be so, haue mariage for their remedie, wherein a man may liue chastly, when the man keepeth him­selfe to his wife, and the wife to her husband, according to the precept of Saint Paule, and of Salomon, who saith, Let thy wel­beloued seruant keepe companie with thee; meaning his wife. And let vs drinke of the water of our owne cup, of our owne pit, or of our owne well, to the intent to debarre the vice of adulterie, which oftentimes causeth the ruine of realmes and common-weals. Nero being wicked and incestuous, said, There was not a chast and continent person in the world, but onely that most men cloked the vice by subtiltie and hypo­crisie. And because he was so much giuen to that vice him­selfe, he thought it vnpossible for any man to be cleare. Yet notwithstanding it is said of Laelius, That in all his life he neuer had to do with anie other than his owne wife, and that after her death, he neuer knew anie other. Iulian the Emperour liued in continuall continencie after the death of his wife, notwithstanding that he was a yong man. There are manie men and women, both Greeks & Romans to be found, which haue beene maruellous chast and well staid. Porcia the sister of Cato, said, That the chast woman neuer marrieth more than once. Men attribute the continencie of Xenocrates, The continen­cie of Xeno­crates. to a cer­taine insensibilitie: But he was too wise, and too great a per­sonage, to be without any feeling: for he was a Philosopher of great renowme, temperat and well staid in all things, such a one as passed little for monie, women, and other pleasures, but continued alwaies as sad and graue as was possible; whom Plato counselled to offer sacrifice to the graces, that he might become more courteous and gracious. In his time there was the most beautifull and gentle courtisan of the world, named Phrynee. Now certaine yong men laid a wager with this Phrynee, that they would lay a man by her, that should not be moued by her beautie, nor by all her daliances. When the wager was made, they made the said Xenocrates to be laid in a faire bed, and the curtisan taried not long after ere she came into the bed vnto him, where she forgate not any thing [Page 321] that might serue to kindle a mans courage, though he had bin of marble: finally after many kissings, touchings, and wanton daliances, all that euershe could win of him that night, was that she was faine to leaue him as she found him. The next morning hir paramours came to know whether they had won or lost. Phrynee confessed that the philosopher was not moued at all with her daliances. And when they required the monie which she had lost vpon the wager; she answered them, that she had made her wager of a man, and not of a block: truly in the opinion of the couetous and vnchast, he was a very block & sencelesse; but in very deed he shewed himselfe to be well staied and a right philosopher, in that he could so well skill to ouermaister his affections, specially considering that the courtisan would haue triumphed ouer him and his philoso­phie, in maintenance wherof he stood so resolutly grounded, that it was not possible afterward for the courtisan, to make him to stoope to the feats of hir amorous temptations. And so this his doing proceeded not of any grosse insensibility, but ra­ther of a gallant mind that stood resolute in his purpose. After which manner wee read of certaine saints and martyrs, which by the grace of God did wonderfull deeds of chastity, resisting such temptations with inuinsible courage, whom we will omit for shortnes sake, The conti­nencie of Io­seph. after I haue set down the wonderfull staied­nesse of Ioseph, who could not be moued with the beautie of his mistresse, nor with the good that he might haue receiued at her hand, nor with the danger that he incurred by refusing. At whose continencie S. Iohn Chrisostome maruelling saith, vp­on the nineteenth of Genesis, That it is not so great a won­der, that the three children ouercame the fire in the furnace at Babylon, as it is wonderful and rare that this righteous man, being in this furnace of the incontinencie of the Aegiptian woman, far more dangerous than the furnace of Babylon, abode safe and sound, and so waded out of it, keeping the man­tle of his chastitie pure and cleane. S. Ierom being halfe broiled with the heate of the sun in the desert, confesseth that he could not refraine, from thinking vpon the delicat delights [Page 322] and beautifull dames of Rome. But yet the austeritie of his life restrained those lusts, from taking place in his head. I know well that some euen of nature are too cold, and othersome a­gaine be too whot, and too sore giuen to flesh: but yet reason and resolutenesse aided by the grace of God, get the vpper hand. Polemon king of Licia was put away by his wife, for being to rough in dealing with her, as witnesseth Iosephus in his twen­tith booke of his Antiquities. Among the greatest praises that Mahomet giueth to himselfe, he vaunteth in his Alcoran, that he had not his fellow in that feat. And Iames Churre reporteth, that in his time there was a woman that complai­ned to the king of Arragon, The prodigi­ous lechery of a certaine Spania [...]d. of her husbands prodigious lecherie. Whereupon he was forbidden to haue to doe with her aboue six times a day, which was a restraint to the fift part of his ordinarie dealing; who so marketh and considereth this mans dealings, he shall find mo houres in the day, that the Aegyptians made, who ruled their houres by a certaine beast dedicated to Serapis, which pissed twelue times a day by equall distances: at leastwise if such as are hard of beleefe will not muster this in the same rank with the fable of Hercules, who is reported to haue defloured fiftie daughters of one man in one night. The profit of chastitie and the harme of vnchastitie. Now must I speake of the good that is reaped by chastitie, and of the harme that is receiued by vn­chastitie: which good and harme extend themselues to the goods of the bodie, of the soule, and of fortune. As touching the goods of the bodie, it is certaine that a man cannot be beautifull and well disposed, if he be giuen to that pleasure. For as Cicero saith, An vnchast youth yeeldeth an ouer­worne bodie vnto old age. As touching strength, nothing is so noysome to it as that, according to this saying of the Poet, Venus and Bacchus bereaue men of all strength. And Menander sayth, A woman is a shortener of mans life. Women shor­ten mens liues. Cornelius Celsus saith, That lecherie dissolueth the bodie. And Hippocrates saith, That nothing doth so much wither and wast a man as that, calling it an vnderkind of the falling sicknesse.

[Page 323] Paulus Aegineta saith, that it maketh the bodie col [...] and feeble. And therefore Clinias and Pithagoricall philosophers said, That the companie of women was but then to be vsed, when men were desirous to fall into some disease: wherein he followed his maister Pithagoras, who prohibited the vse of women, vnlesse it were to make them the weaker and feebler. That is the cause why Solon in his lawes ordained mariage; The lawes of Solon and Li­curgus concer­ning mariage. howbeit with charge that the husband should not haue to do with his wife, aboue thrice in a month. Licurgus to make the Lacedemonians the stronger, prohibited them to lie with their wiues, enioyning thē to take them vnapareled and secretly, of purpose to take away the abuse of them & the ouermuch vse, whereby they might afterward become weake and lesse able to take paines. Plutarch among his precepts of health, setteth downe chiefly the conseruation of the vitall seede. Plato in his lawes, commandeth yong men to imploy their strength about other things than that, and to weaken the lust of the flesh by much trauell, which will easily be done, if a man vse it not too vnchastly. For if a man vse it rarely and with shamefastnes, le­cherie shall haue the lesse power ouer him. Wherefore we must persuade our selues to do so, by custome without law writ­ten, and think it a shame and note of insamie, to do otherwise. And if it could be, a law should be made, that no man might touch any woman but his wife, nor beget bastards vpon concubines, and that if any man kept a concubine, he should be proclaimed as an infamous person, and be depriued from all honor and offices of the citie or common-weale. Incontinencie maketh men to grow out of kind. As tou­ching the mind, nothing doth so much abate it and make it to grow out of kind. It is euident how Antonie managed his af­fairs amisse, after that he fell in loue with Cleopatra; namely how he made an vnfortunat voiage against the Parthians, and knit vp his doings with a mis-incounter at the iourney of Actium.

It would require a whole booke, to number the mischieues that haue come thereof, and to shew the alterations that loue hath wrought in the minds of men. And as Parmeno sayth [Page 324] in Terence, It is a strange thing, to see how men are altered by loue, and how a man that was well staid, and sterne, be­commeth loose and ill disposed through loue. And for all, Salomon the wisest of all men in the world may suffice, who through loue became more fond and vnaduised than any man; insomuch that he left his religion, and became an ido­later.

We read in the 19. chapter of the Iudges, what a bloodie battell there was betweene the Israelites and their fellows of the tribe of Beniamin, for a Leuits wife that was rauished by them; in which battell there died three score and fiue thou­sand men on both sides, and in the end the Beniamits being ouercome, were faine to accept such conditions as their con­querours would giue vnto them. Alexander would neuer giue himselfe to loue, vntill he was lord of Asia, for feare of being vanquished. And therefore he would not see the wife and daughters of Darius, for feare to be caught in loue by them, saying commonly, that the ladies of Persia were eye-sores vn­to him. And albeit that vain-glorie made him so to do, for feare least he should haue beene hindered in his enterprise: yet he saw well that a man which doth such things, could not prosper. And as long as he set not his mind that way, his af­faires went well, and he purchased great praise, yea euen at the hand of Darius himselfe, who hearing of a truth how the world went with his wife and children, besought God that he might haue none other successour but Alex­ander.

Thus ye see how Continencie doth good both to bodie, [...]oul, & worldly state; that is to say, euen to the getting of king­doms and empires, The Continencie of Scipio. whereof there be so many examples, that a man cannot reckon them vp without wearying of his rea­ders. I will but onely set downe the Continencie of Scipio to­wards Indibilis, because comparison is made betweene that and Alexanders. Now therefore Scipio hauing by the law of armes, taken prisoner the wife of one Indibilis, a noble man of Spaine, and a great enemie of th [...] Romans, a [Page 325] woman of rare beautie, with diuers other faire ladies and gen­tlewomen of Spaine, would not shut his eies, but would haue a [...]ight of them. And after courteous entertaining of them, sent them home to Indibilis, without doing any wrong to their honor. For which courtesie, Indibilis finding himselfe in­finitly bound vnto Scipio, turned to the Romans with mo than fiue hundred Spaniards, and was the cause that Scipio became maister of the whole countrie. There haue bin few good cap­tains which haue not abhorred, if not simple fornication, yet at leastwise adulterie, sauing only Iulius Caesar, who alwaies entertained some other mens wiues. But he was punished by the sonne of one whom he held in adulterie, who slue him in the senat. And when he entred into any citie, the souldiers would say, Ye chiefe men of the towne keepe well your wiues, for we bring vnto you the bald aduouterer. Alexander shewed himselfe more staied in that respect; The Conti­nency of A­lexander. for he would doe no wrong, neither to mens wiues nor to their Lemans. Vpon a time hauing long waited for a cer­taine woman, when she was come, and he had asked her why she came so late, she answered, because I was faine to tarie till my husband was abed. Which thing Alexander hearing, commanded his men to conuey her home againe out of hand, saying that through their default, it wanted but little that he had become an Adulterer. He did as much to Antipater. For seeing a faire wench that Antipater kept, come to feast, he began to cast a fancie to her. But vnderstanding that she was Antipaters, Noughty fellow (quoth he) why ta­kest thou not this wench hence, which enforceth wrong to be done vnto Antipater?

Francis Sforcia duke of Millane, being offred a very faire woman whom he had taken to lie withall, perceiued that as soone as he would haue come neere her she began to weepe and prayd the duke that he would not touch her, but that he would send her back to her husband, who also was a prisoner. Of whose request the duke had such regard, that hee cast himselfe downe from the bed for feare of touching her, and [Page 326] deliuered her againe to hir husband the next morow.

Dennis the tyrant rebuked his sonne sharply for an adultery which he had committed, asking him if he had euer seen him do the like. When his sonne had answered no, for he had not a king to his father: hee could well skill to foretell him what would come of it, that is to wit, that he also should not haue a sonne that should be a king after him, vnlesse hee changed his manners, as I haue sayd in my first booke.

Agesilaus one day refused a kisse, whereat when all men maruelled: he said, He had rather to fight against such affe­ctions, than to take a good citie well fortified and well man­ned with men of war.

Many exam­ples of the chastitie of princes. Alexander rebuked Cassander very sharply for kissing; and was angrie wirh Philoxenus for seeming to inuite him to vnho­nest things by his letters. Antiochus beholding a very beauti­full religious woman, that was vowed to Diana, was by and by surprised with her loue: and for feare least ouer-great loue might inforce him to some incest, hee went his way by and by out of the place, for doubt least he should doe any thing that might not become him. Heliogabalus not only defloured, but also married a virgine vestall, saieng it was reason that priests should marie nuns, because that in times past he had ben priest to the sunne. But he was so wicked, that the remembe­rance of him ought to be wiped out of the world. When Pom­pey had put Mithridates to flight, he would not touch his concubines, but sent them all home to their friends. Iulian would not see the goodly ladies of Persia that were his captiues, for feare least he should be taken in loue with them, but sent them home euery chone. Selim the emperor of the Turks did as much in the same countrie. For when he had wonne the field against the sophie, he found many noble wo­men in his campe, whom he sent home without touching them, or without taking any ransome for them. Dioclesian hauing taken the wife and daughters of the king of Persia, did as Alexander had done. Which deed caused the Persi­ans to render vnto the Romans, all that euer they had ta­ken [Page 327] from them. Totilas king of the Easterngoths, hauing taken Naples and many Roman ladies that were there, sent them all home to their friends, without doing or suffering any wrong to be done vnto them. He that would here re­herse the tragicall histories that haue ensued of Adultrie, should be faine to make a whole booke by itselfe. Let vs but only bethinke vs of the euening-worke of Sicilie, which befell vnto vs Frenchmen, more for our incontinencie than for any thing else; and let that be added vnto it, which was done by Alexander the sonne of Amyntas vnto the Persi­ans. The good turne that A­lexander the sonne of A­mintas did▪ Amintas made a banket to the Persians, whereat were present the noblemens wiues of Macedonie. Whom when the Persians had before them, they would aproch vnto them; insomuch that when they were set downe by them, they began to feele their brests and to doe diuers vnseemely things vnto them. Wherat Alexander being extreamly grie­ued, did neuerthelesse set a good countenance vpon the mat­ter, and told them that he would make them cheere to the full. Whereupon when bed-time drue nigh, he desired that the ladies might go aside to wash themselues, and they should come againe by and by vnto them. Anon the ladies departed, in whose stead yong men attired like women, were brought in to the banquet; at whose comming, the Persians began immediatly to handle them ouerbold­ly. But the yong men set hand to their weapons, and slue them euery chone not one excepted. Ioane queene of Naples was hanged vp for her aduoutrie in the very same place where she had hanged her husband Andreasse afore, be­cause he was not a lustie companion to her liking. I will for­beare to speak of Fredegund and other vnchast women, and for this matter will alledge but only the guile of the Madianits, who perceiuing the children of Israell to be impregnable and vnuincible, so long as they sinned not: tooke of the beautifullest yoong women that they had, and sent them afore to the camp of the Israelits to intice them to sin: which thing caused the Israelits to be ouercome by them.

[Page 328]The Troians were vtterly destroied for the aduouterie of one man. And Homer maketh Apollo to send the pestilence into the campe of the Greekes, because the king had taken away the daughter of Chryses his priest. Let vs now speake of punishments ordained by lawes. The punish­ment of ad­ulterie. The Persians were rigorous in punishing adulterers; and likewise the Aegyptians, who pu­nished the adulterer with a thousand lashes of a whip, and the adulteresse by cutting off hir nose. And somtimes (as saith Dio­dorus) they did cut off the priuie members of him that had deflowred a gentlewoman, because of the corrupting and con­founding of issue. Herodotus reporteth, That Feron king of Aegypt, did cause all the women in a citie to be burned, whom he vnderstood to be adultresses. The same king had beene blind ten yeares, and the eleuenth yeare the Oracle told him, that he should recouer his sight, if he washed his eies in the water of a woman, that had neuer had to do with any other than hir husband. First he made triall of his owne wiues wa­ter, but that would do him no good: and afterward of infinit others, which did him all as little; saue onely one, by the rubbing of his eies with whose water he reeouered his sight, and then put all the rest to dearh. By the law of Moses, adul­terous persons were stoned to death, as appeareth in the one and twentith of Leuitticus, and in the two and twentith of Deuteronomie; and afore that also in eight and thirtith of Genesis. The law Iulia, punished both the offenders with death, whereof there is an expresse title in the Digests. Ec­clesiasticus speaking of an adulterous woman, saith, That hir children shall not take roote, and that her braunches shall not beare fruit. They shall leaue their remembrance accursed, and the shame thereof shall not be wiped out. Such as by rea­son of their greatnesse haue escaped the rigour of law, haue not failed to be defamed, as Faustine and the exceeding infa­mous Messaline, who in that trade went beyond all the cour­tesans that euer were, returning from the brothel house rather tired than satisfied. And Iulia the daughter of Augustus was so shamelesse and vnchast, that the emperor was neuer able to [Page 329] reclaime her. And whē one thinking to haue good credit with her, desired her to leaue that life, and to follow chastitie as her father did: she said, That her father forgat himselfe, and considered not that he was Caesar, but as for her, she knew well she was the daughter of Caesar. The means to remedie In­continencie. Cicero in his Cato. Now must I treat of the means to auoid this inconuenience. Saint Paule giueth one, which is verie certaine, that is to wit, mariage. Another reme­die is, to eschew occasions. For there is more pleasure in not de­siring, than in enioying. When one demaunded of Sophocles, whether he gaue himselfe to women still in his old age, or no? No (quoth he) I haue withdrawne my selfe from it, and haue left vp that trade, as a wicked, wild and harebraind maister. Occasions are eschewed, by the eies, by the toung, and by the eares. By the eies, when a man turneth them away from loo­king vpon faire women, as I haue said of Alexander, and diuers others. Cyrus would neuer see the beautifull Pantea: And when Araspes one of his courriers told him, That her beautie was a thing worthie the beholding; Euen therfore (quoth he) is it best to abstaine from seeing her. The same cause (as wit­nesseth Iosephus in the eleuenth booke of his Antiquities) made the Persians not to shew their wiues vnto strangers. And as Tertullian saith in his treatise of the veiling of Virgins, Of the veiling of maidens and maried women. The Corinthians veiled their maidens. Contrariwise, the La­cedemonians did let them go vnueiled, that they might get them husbands: And when they were maried, then they veiled them. Sulpitius Gallus did put away his wife by de­uorce, because she went abrode bare faced, as Valerius saith in his sixt booke: but that was but a slender cause of diuorce. It is said in Genesis, That Rebecca couered her selfe as soone as she saw Isaac. This was not done without cause. For as Plu­tarch saith, Loue is nothing else but a well-liking of beautie, which carieth vs with an ardent desire to the obtainment of that which we couet. And Ouid writing to a certaine woman, saith, Would God thou wert not so faire, for then should I not be so importunate, but thy beautifull face enforceth me to be bold. Theocritus termed a faire face a mischiefe of yuory, [Page 330] because it is pleasant to see to, and causeth manie mischiefs. It is a speechlesse commendation, for it commendeth it selfe sufficiently without speaking. It is a kingdom without halber­ders; for the beautifull commaund euen kings, and without force obtaine what they will of them, yea and they be of such power, that some haue said (as Tertullian and manie others) that euen angels haue beene in loue with them, alledging the sixt chapter of Genesis, howbeit misvnderstood by them, the which thing Saint Iohn Chrysostome, writing vpon the same chapter, Saint Ambrose in his booke concerning Noe and the Arke, S. Austen in his fifteenth booke of the citie of God, and all the right beleeuing doctors haue disprooued at large. If Paris had not seene Helen, the citie of Troy had not beene destroyed. Sight is an intisement to adulterie. If Dauid had not seene Bersaba, and Gyges the wife of Candaules: none of them both had beene murthe­rers and adulterers both at once. If Caracalla had not seene his mothers thigh, he had not maried her. Suetonius saith, That Tiberius caused manie boyes and girles to come to Capree, whither he had withdrawne himselfe, that he might not be seene of the Romans in such lewd dealings. And he caused them to do a thousand villanous things in his presence, to delight his sight withall, and to quicken vp his lust, which was almost dead vnto such things. So that the surest way for a man, is to withhold his eies from the sight of all va­nities. Next, a man must keepe himselfe from speaking foule and filthie speeches, Speeches is an other intice­ment. and from hearing them spoken, as such men and women will do, as list not to read vnchast bookes, nor to heare ribaudrie talke, nor to come in place or compa­nie where such are read. For words spoken in ieast or in earnest, serue well to kindle the fire of loue, according to the answer that Popilia made, when one asked her why beasts endure not the male after they haue once conceiued, seeing that women endure them at all times: Because (quoth she) they be but beasts.

The emperour Sigismundus widow, intending to marrie againe, albeit that in so doing she did no vnlawfull thing, [Page 331] yet made she a meetly pretie answer, to him that would haue persuaded her to lead the rest of her life vnmaried, af­ter the maner of the Turtle-doue, who neuer seeketh anie make againe, after she hath once forgone her owne. If you counsell me (quoth she) to follow the example of birds, why speake you not to me as well of pigeons and sparrowes, which after the death of their makes do ordinarily couple themselues with the next that they meet? A Vestall vir­gin named Spuria, because she was foule-mouthed, was ac­cused of incest, and discharged by the censor, vpon condi­tion that she should no more speake filthily as long as she li­ued. For it behooueth to be chast in words, as well as in bo­die. For by mens speech is it knowne how they be minded, By a mans speech is his disposition knowne. as Bacchus saith in Terence.

And Iesus the sonne of Sirach in his seuen and twentith chapter, saith, That like as a mans labour maketh a tree to shew foorth his fruit: so doth a mans speech bewray the thoughts of his heart. Socrates said, That such as a man is, such are his affections: such as his affection is, such are his words; such as his words are, such are his deeds; and such as his deeds are, such is his life. Hiero king of Syracuse pu­nished the poet Epicharmus, because he had spoken wantonly before his wife: and verie iustly, for his wife was a true mir­rour of chastitie. And vpon a time Hiero perceiuing himselfe to haue a strong breath, found fault with her that she had not told him of it. To whom she answered plainlie, That she had thought that all other mens breaths had had the like sent.

Aristotle in his seuenth booke of matters of State, Law makers ought to ba­nish all filthie talke out of their cōmon-weals. saith, That lawmakers ought aboue all things, to banish all fil­thie and ribaudrie talke out of their common-weals; because the libertie of filthie communication, draweth vile and vnho­nest deeds after it. And therfore Epictetus said, That amorous talke was an allurement vnto whordome. And for that cause Saint Paule to the Ephesians would not haue anie cor­rupt word to passe out of our mouthes. By the lawes [Page 332] of Romulus, He that spake any filthie words before women, was punished as a manslear. In the Digests vnder the title of Iniuries, we haue a notable book-case of Vlpian, who saith, That he which vttereth any filthie speech before women, although he staine not their chastitie, shall neuerthelesse be sued vpon an action of trespasse. And as men ought not to attempt the chastitie of women by lewd speeches: so likewise women must not prouoke men thereto, by too much decking and painting themselues. For, that is no better than an enti­cing of men vnto whordome. And like as hunters lay baits vpon their snares, to allure wild beasts vnto them, and to draw them in; so do adulterers (saith Saint Chrysostome) lay baits for the amorous, by their eies, by their speeches, and by their attires. And afterward they intangle them, and maske them in their nets, out of the which they suffer them not to scape, vntill they haue sucked out all their blood, and then they giue them a mocke for their labour. The orna­ments of a good woman. The ornaments of a good woman are meeldnesse, shamefastnesse, and chastitie. Poppea the wife of Nero was misliked of, for her ordinarie vsing of asses milke, to make her colour the fresher. What would they haue said, if she had euerie day vsed the Spanish white, and vermilion? A wife ought to go cleanly and comely appa­relled, but neither ought she to be painted, nor to be curi­ously attired: which thing Homer sheweth vnto vs, when he saith in his Iliades, That Iuno washed herselfe to do a­way the spots of her bodie, and then annointed her with oile after the maner of old time. But of the curiosities and fond tricks that are vsed now adayes, I will not speake at all. Se­condly a woman must beware that she shew not herselfe na­ked: for that prouoketh men to do euill, and maketh women shamelesse.

A woman in stripping her selfe out of her clothes, strippeth her selfe of all shamefastnes.As touching the first, the example of Caracalla and o­thers are a sufficient testimonie vnto vs. And as touching the other, Herodotus assureth vs in his first booke, That a woman in stripping her selfe out of her clothes, bereaueth herselfe of all shamefastnesse. And Saint Cyprian in his first booke of the [Page 333] apparelling of maidens, will not haue them to be naked, or to be bathed; saying that in putting off their clothes, they put off also all shamefastnesse. And for that cause, Saint Ambrose rebuketh sharply one Siagrius bishop of Veron, for ordaining that a certaine maiden should be searched vpon a pretended deflourment. As for the Lacedemonians, their short apparel, beneath the which a man might see their knees, and some part of their thighs, was ordained to make them the stronger, and the more warlike. But in verie deed, that kind of apparell was light. We haue yet one other great remedie of loue; which is, to eschue idlenesse: for idlenesse nourisheth loue, the taking away whereof breaketh Cupids bow. Therefore hunting and all exercises of trauell serue well to that purpose. And for that cause Phedria in Terence, promiseth that he will toile himselfe as much as he can during the absence of his louer, that his trauell may make him to rest without thin­king vpon her. Likewise, he that taketh paines, and is altogi­ther giuen to studie, is not subiect to Venerie. And in verie deed the Poets feigne that Diana and the Muses are enemies to Venus, and care not for Cupid. For it is hard that the man which hath any great conceit in his mind, should haue ley­sure to thinke vpon the pleasures of Venus; or that he which hath his limbs tired with trauell, should desire any thing else than rest: howbeit that Caelius Rhodiginus in his eleuenth book of ancient Readings, maketh mention of a man, that the more he was beaten, the more feruently did he desire womē.

CHAP. XIII. Of refraining a mans tongue, of such as be too talkatiue, of liars, of curious persons, of flatterers, of mockers, of railers and slaunderers, and of tale-bearers.

THe third kind of Temperance consisteth in ruling the tongue, when a man keepeth himself from spea­king too much. Socrates enioined his disciples to haue silence in tongue, demurenes in countenance, [Page 334] and discreetnes in heart. Cato in his paired verses, setteth down the brideling of the tongue among the chiefest vertues, say­ing, That neuer man repented him of holding his peace, but many haue taken great harme of speaking. The greatest speakers be not the grea­test doers. It is commōly said, That he which is lauish of his words, is a niggard of his deeds. Numa taught the Romans to reuerence one of the M [...]ses more than all the residue, & her he named Tacita, as ye would say, Silent and speechlesse; to the intent they should highlie esteeme of silence. And in verie deed, they were verie secret in all their enterprises, as we read of their victorie which they had against the Persians, which was knowne of in Rome, a­fore it was vnderstood there, that the warre was begun.

Quintus Fabius Maximus, was rebuked by the consull, for giuing intelligence out of the counsell, of the third warre in Affricke. Secrecie a most behoof­full thing to a frato. For there is not a more behooffull thing to a state than Secrecie. Pythagoras enioyned silence to his disciples aboue all things. And good cause why, For speech bewraieth what a man is, as saith Ecclesiasticus. Periander one day de­maunded of Solon, whether he held his peace for want of abi­litie to speake, or follie. A foole (quoth Solon) cannot hold his peace: for the heart of the foole (saith Ecclesiasticus) is in his mouth, and the mouth of the wise in his heart. There­fore when Socrates saw an ignorant person sit mute at the table: Thou hast (quoth he) but this one token of a learned man. And as Salomon saith in the sixteenth of his Prouerbs, The man that is of vnderstanding and skill, is sober in speech; yea, and the foole while he holdeth his peace, is counted wise: but he is to be hated which is shamelesse in speaking, and which for a drop of wit, flasheth out a whole flood of words.

An orator is known by his speaking, and a philosopher by his silence in due time. Macrobius saith, That an orator is seene by his speech, and a philosopher also is knowne by his holding of his peace, and by his speaking in their due times. And that could Isocra­tes well skill to tell one, which at a banquet desired him to say somewhat of the art of eloquence. For he answered him after this maner, I know not (quoth he) what time and place [Page 335] require to be said, and that which I know, is not meet for this time and place. For as the sonne of Sirach saith, Some man holds his peace, because he discerneth the conuenient time. And therupon it commeth that in the thirteenth of the Pro­uerbs, Salomon teacheth vs that he which keepeth his mouth, keepeth his soule, and that he which openeth his lips rashly, shall feele hurt by it. And in the twelfth he saith, That he which keepeth his tongue, keepeth his soule from sorrow; and that he which bableth many words, woundeth his own soule. Againe in the same chapter he saith, That rash speaking is like the sting of an aspworme: but the toung of the wise is health. And therefore he counselleth vs to hedge vp our eares with thornes, He that giueth a man eare, in­uiteth him to speake. and not to hearken to a wicked tongue: and to set a doore to our mouths, and a locke to our eares: because that he which giueth eare to a man inuiteth him to speake, as S. Am­brose saith in his Duties. And Mercurie in the tenth chapter of his Pimander saith, That the religious man is he, which nei­ther speaketh much, nor heareth many things; and that he which intendeth to hearing and speaking, fighteth with his own shadow, cōsidering that God is neither spoken nor heard; that is to say, cannot be expressed, neither by word nor by hearing, who aboue all things will haue vs to yeeld account of our idle words. Sirach in his 20. chapter saith, That he is to be hated, which is shamelesse in speaking. The man that speaketh little shall be ho­noured. And in the 21. chapter, A babler defileth his owne soule, and shal be hated where he dwelleth; but the man that speaketh litle, and is well aduised, shall be had in honour. Who art thou O man (saith the Psal­mist) that desirest to liue long, and to see good daies? Keepe thy tongue from euill, and thy lips from speaking guile. And therfore he praieth God especially, to set a watch before his mouth. And Ecclesiasticus saith thus, Who shall giue a watch to my mouth, and set a seale vpon my lips, that I fall not by meane thereof, and that my tongue destroy me not? And in another place, Many words are not with­out fault. Weigh thy words (quoth he) and put a bridle on thy tongue, and consider aforehand, least thou sin with thy tongue: for in many words must needs be some fault.

[Page 336]And as Salomon saith in the third of the Prouerbs, The tongue reueleth secrets, but he that is of a faithfull heart, kee­peth things close. And in the twelfth, A man shall be had in estimation for his wise mouth: for a wise heart (saith Salo­mon in the sixt of the Prouerbs) guideth the mouth discreet­ly, and shall put learning vpon his lips. But vpon the lips of the froward, there is as it were a burning fire. He that can­not refraine from speaking, is like a citie that is open without walles. When the Lacedemonians sat downe to their meals, the eldest of the companie, pointing to the doore, said vnto them all, Let no word go out yonder: meaning that if anie thing were spoken freely at the table, it ought not to be blab­bed out abrode. Sabellicus in the fourth Aenead of his fourth booke, saith, That in old time it was the custome of the Per­sians, to concele and keepe close all secrets, as a thing inioy­ned them by their ancient discipline, vpon pain of their liues. And no vice was rather punished among thē than the vice of the tongue: The vices of the toung pu­nished aboue all vices amōg the Persians. for they deemed thē worthie of great punishmēt, which could not hold their tongues, seeing that nature hath made it most easie for man to do. For (as Ouid saith) what lesse pains can we take, than to hold our tongues? Pittacus saith in his Sentences, He cannot wel speake, that cannot skill to hold his peace. That that man cannot speake, which cannot skill to hold his peace. Vnto a certain gouernor of a prouince, that demaūded of Demonax how he might wel keepe his pro­vince? Demonax said, It should be easie to him, if he restrained his choler, and hearkened much, and spake little. Among the vices of Thersites, Homer blameth chiefly his ouermuch bab­ling. The Psalmist to shew the danger of the tongue, saith, That mens teeth are weapons, and their tongues arrowes and sharpe kniues, which may do much good, and much euill, af­ter as they be applied, the one way or the other. The king of Aegypt sent Pittacus a mutton, desiring him to put asunder the good flesh from the bad. Pittacus sent him backe the tongue, as the instrument of the greatest good, and of the greatest euill that is done in the world. For as Salomon saith, Both life and death are in the power of the tongue. Saint Iames in his [Page 337] canonicall Epistle saith, That though the tongue be but a smal member, yet it doth great things: and is like the helue of a ship to the whole bodie, and like a bridle by the which being in the horses mouth we turne his whole bodie which way we will. And a ship how great soeuer it bee, yet is it ruled by a small peece of timber. Saint Iohn Chrisostome in his two and twentith Homilie to the people, warrieth them that they should not vndo themselues by their tongues. For it is the tongue that marreth the whole body; and when the bodie is corrupted, the mind must needs be corrupted to. Euill words corrupt good maners. For euil words corrupt good maners. Yea and in our daily praiers which we make vnto God, he will not haue vs to vse abundance of words, as Ecclesiasti­cus saith in the fifth chapter, that it is the property of fooles to vse manie words vnto God, and that the multitude of words without reason, betoken a foolish praier. And our Lord will not haue vs to pray after the maner of the Heathen, who thinke they shall be heard for the multitude of their words. For as S. Paul saith in the second to the Corinthians, The kingdome of God consisteth not in words. As touching the maner of spea­king, Of the maner of speaking. Cicero shews it vs briefly in his Duties, saying, That in tal­king a man must not be too stiffe of opinion, but must suffer euery man to speake in his turne, and consider whereof he speaketh; so as if it be a matter of earnest, it be done with grauitie; or if it be a matter of mirth, it be done cheerfully: and in any wise a man must not speake without the bounds of reason. The vnbrid­led toung fin­deth euer mis [...]ortune. For as saith Euripides, In the end euery vnbridled toung shall find it selfe vnfortunate: and the great talker hath this inconuenience, that he is not euer beleeued; and yet our speaking is to the end that we would haue our sayings be­leeued. Plutarch speaking of a babler in his treatise of too much speaking, saith, That as corne shut vp in a moist vessell, increaseth in measure, The words of great talkers are vnfruit­full. but impaireth in goodnes: euen so doth a babler. For he increaceth much his words, by put­ting them forth, but his so doing bereaueth them of all power to persuade. And as it is held for a truth, that the seed of such as companie with women too much, is not of strength to be­get [Page 338] children: so the words of great talkers is barreine and fruit­lesse. And like as in our bodies, the parts that are infected and diseased, do alwaies draw to them the corrupt humors of the parts next vnto them: so the tongue of a great babler, being as it were in the whot fit of a burning feuer, doth alwaies ga­ther togither and draw vnto it some secret lurking euill. He that will see the mischiefes that haue happened to many men by too much speaking, and the meane to remedie the same: let him reade the treatise of Plutarch concerning too much speaking, where he treateth of it so largely, that nothing can be added vnto it: and also Erasmus booke of the Tongue. Ne­uerthelesse I may say in generall, that to keepe a mans selfe from the vice of the tongue, he must eschue curiositie, lying, flatterie, Of curiositie. mockerie, slaundering, and tale bearing. I call curio­sitie or inquisitiuenes, a discouering of things that are to be kept secret. For commonly it commeth to passe, that he which is desirous to know too much, is a great babler. And that is the cause, why a certaine great Poet counselleth vs to shun inquisitiue folke, because he is a great babler, and the property of a great babler is io bewray secrets, The property of a babler. to sow discord, to make quarrels, to offend freinds, and to make enemies. The fashion of inquisitiue folks is, to learne mens pedegrees, the vices of their races, the doings of their houses, the faults that befall in mens families: what the neighbour oweth, and how he gouer­neth his wife; also to silch letters, to stand listening by mens wals, to herken what they say, to marke diligently what ser­uants and chambermaids do or say; if he see a woman passe through the streets, to enquire whēce she coms; if he see men talke in secret, to learne wherof they speake. To be short, as Plutarch saith in his booke of Inquisitiuenes, they be like to pullerie, which as long as they haue a graine to eat, do neuer leaue scraping in the dunghill, to haue one little graine of corne more: so the inquisitiue folke, in stead of setting their minds vpon histories and good doings, and other needfull things, the which are not forbidden to be enquired of; do fall to gathering and hoording vp the euill of some house. In this [Page 339] case the Athenians shewed themselues to be good men to Philip, and little inquisitiue of houshold secrets. For hauing in­tercepted his courriers, they opened all his letters and read them, sauing those that were written vnto him by his wife Olimpias, the which they sent vnto him closed and vn­broken vp as they were.

Lisimachus demanded of Philippides, what he would haue of him; ask what you wil sir (qd. he) so it be no secret, because that commonly men conceale not any thing, Men conceale not any thing but that which is euill. but that which is euil, and that is the thing that the vnderminer is inquisitiue of. And like as the spondgie places of leather, do draw into them the worst of the leather: so the inquisitiue eares do draw all the matters that are to be had. The law of the Locrians. Therefore the law of the Locrians was good, which amerced the partie at a good fine, that enquired after newes. And like as cookes to stirre coles well in their kitchins desire but good store of flesh meates and fisshermen good store of fish: so the inquisitiue sort desire abundance of mischieues, great numbers of dealings, store of nouelties, and great chaunges, that they may haue wherewith to hunt and kill. The remedy of curiositie. The remedy of inquisitiuenes, is neither to here nor to see the things that belong not vnto vs. For the eie is one of the hands of curi­ositie, & is matched with blabbing, that is to wit, with babling out againe, as sayth Plutarch in his treatise of the Fruit of foes. As for the Lier, The lier. he hath no need of eies, for he forgeth what he listeth: of whome Horace speaking, sayth, That he that can forget that which he neuer saw, and hath no skill to conceale things committed to him in secret, is a naughtie fellow and to be taken heed of. Lying is a vice detested of God and man, as I will declare anon, after I haue treated of the seueral sorts of lying. For this vice should seeme to be common to all men, considering how Dauid saith that all men are liers. And so it might seeme that this vice were in some sort excusable, vntill we consider that the word Lie, Lying is the foundation and substance of all vice. is taken in diuers significations. Mercurie in his chap. of vn­derstanding; saith that lying is the foundation and substance of [Page 340] all vice, and therefore sinne is termed nothing, and leasing or lying, The first sort of lies. because it consisteth of not-being, or of bereauing, and all not being or bereauing, is out of the truth, which truth is God: and whatsoeuet is out of the truth is leasing. And ther­fore saint Austen in his fourteenth booke of the Citie of God, saith, That the man which liueth after himselfe, that is to say, after his owne imagination, and not according to Gods ordi­nance, which is the truth, doth surely liue in leasing, because he liueth according to himselfe, and not in such sort as he was created to liue. And although a man liue well; yet do we say that he is subiect to leasing, by way of priuation of the truth, which priuation he is runne into by the sinne of Adam. For there is not one that doth good, no not one. And therefore Saint Paule to the Romans saith thus: If Gods truth abound through my lying.

The second sort of lying.Also there is another sort of leasing, that draweth nigh vnto this, whereof Dauid speaketh, where he saith, The sonnes of men are nothing but vanitie; insomuch that if they be put into the ballance, they shall be found lighter than vanitie it selfe. Also the Preacher saith, That all that is in this world is vanitie of vanities, or nothing of nothings: that is to say, there is not any thing in this world, that can giue a man true and sure contentment, neither is there any thing setled and certaine, as saith Mercurie speaking of the will of God. And therefore we say that in man there is nothing but leasing. For they be not so certaine as other things, no not euen as the heauenly bodies and elements, which be not chaunged. For fire continueth alwayes fire: earth, earth, and so of the rest. But man consisteth of the four elements, which are diuerse, and altereth from age to age, so much that fathers know not their owne children, when they haue beene long absent and vnseene of them. Now the thing that chaun­geth after such sort, and is subiect to growing, breeding, dimi­nishing and dissolution, and consequently to shifting and al­teration, cannot be true. And as Mercurie saith in his fifth chapter of Generation, The shape of mortall things is [Page 341] changed from day to day, by reason that in time it returneth from growing to decaying like a leasing; for that which is not permanent and certaine, cannot be true: and therefore it must needs be a leasing.

Another kind of leasing whereof I intend to speake heere, The third sort of leasing. is when we disguise the truth by falshood and deceit, or when for our owne pleasures sake, we say otherwise than it is, a vice proper to Satan, (whome our Lord in S. Iohn calleth a lier, and the father of lying) and cleane contrarie to God, as full oppo­sit to his diuine nature, which consisteth in truth. And for that cause it is said in Wisdome, the mouth that lieth sleyeth the soule. And Dauid in the threescore and third Psalme saith, That the mouthes of such as speake lies shall be stopped. And in the xxiiij Psalme, it is said, That that man shall goe vp into the Lords hll, which giueth not ouer his hart vnto lea­sing, ne sweareth to beguile. For the words of the Lord are pure words, as gold fined in the furnace from the earth, and seuen times tried. And the man that wil liue long and see good dayes, must keepe his tongue from euill, and his lips from spea­king guile. For the mouth of the good liuer, teacheth nothing but wisdome, and his tongue vttereth nothing but that which is righteous and fruitfull, as sayth Salomon. Saint Iohn in the xiiij of the Apocalips, setteth downe among those that follow the lambe, them that haue not defiled themselues with women, and them in whose mouthes no guile or lying hath ben found. And in the last chapter, he excludeth out of the number of the blessed, all liers and them that loue lying. Plato in his fi [...]t booke of Lawes, saith, That he which chuseth to lie, is worthie to haue no credit giuen vnto him: And that he which lieth against his will, is a foole; and of those two names, we should desire none of them both. For distitute of all freinds is that man, and vnworthy to be beleeued and credited. And in time when he is knowne to be such a one, he is so forsaken of all men in his hatefull old age, that he is faine to leade a solitarie life euer after. And in his Timaeus he saith thus, If yee be liers, ye shall be despised, how great so euer yee [Page 342] be. The maners of liers are without ho­nor. For the manners of liers (sayth Salomon) are without honor, and their confusion accompanieth them continually. And in the same place, Lying is a shamefull reproch to a man, and will continually be in the mouth of them that be without nurture. And to shew the enormitie of the vice, A theefe is better than a her. The benefit of suffe [...]ing [...] in prin­ces courts. That a theefe is better than he that accustometh himselfe to lie: but both of them shall haue destruction to their heritage. Anachar­s [...]s said, That when liers are suffered in the houses of princes, it is a signe that both the king and the realme be going to decay. Ecclesiasticus abhorreth three sorts of men; A poore man that is prowd, a rich man that is a lier, and an old man that is a foole. And Salom [...]n in his Prouerbs saith, That as words of authoritie become not a foole: so lying lips become not a prince. Lying lips be­come nor a prince. And in the xxix he sayth againe, The prince that herkeneth to lying words, hath all his seruants wicked. And in the vij of Ecclesiasticus he sayth, He will not lie any maner of leasing, for the custome thereof is not good. And in another place he sayth, That the Lord abhorreth lying lips, and that he which giueth eare to lies, is like one that catcheth a sha­dow, and pursueth the wind. And Dauid in the hundred and nineteenth Psalme, prayeth God to take from him the vn­true way, the which he protesteth himselfe to hate aboue all things, and vtterly to abhorre it. And in the Psalme next fol­lowing, Deliuer me (saith he) from false lips, and from a guile­full tongue. And in the eight and fiftith, They that speake lies (saith he) are as venemous as serpents. And in the fift, Thou wilt destroy them that speake leasings. And in the thirtith of the Prouerbes, Put farre from me all vanitie and lying words. All good men hate ly­ing. Menander sayth, That all good and wise men hate lies. Aristotle and Demetrius said, That the gaine which hers gained by their lying, is that men beleeue them not when they say truth. And as Ecclesiasticus sayth, What thing can be made cleane by him that is vncleane? or what truth can be spoken by a lier? Archidamus intending to withdraw the Lacedemonians from beleeuing a certain ambassador of Chio; stoode vp and said: How can this fellow say any truth, which [Page 343] beareth his lying not only in his soule, but also in his head; be­cause the ambassador had caused his gray heares to bee died blacke. Alcibiades to hinder the peace that the Lacede­monians granted to the Athenians, did craftily counsell their ambassadors, to be more streight-laced to the senat than they had ben before the people, and to hold another course of speech, than they had done. The which thing they did, belee­uing that Alcibiades had giuen them that counsel for their be­nefit. But he taking occasion therby to set all things in a broile, said in open senat, that no credit was to be giuen vnto men that were proued to be liers, & which in one self-same matter, said one while one thing, He that is mutable in words delu­deth princes. Why the Per­sians hate [...] debters. and another while another. For he that is mutable in his words saith Salomon deludeth princes. The Per­sians esteemed lying to be the greatest sin in the world: and therfore they hated debters, and numbred them amōg offen­ders, because it is hard for a debter to forbeare lying, seeing he assaieth to deceiue: and to deceiue, a man must needs lie. Not­withstanding, Darius said to his companions, That it was meet that men should lie, when it was for their behoof, and that the liers and they that speake the truth, tended all to one effect; and it was for men to lie, when there was any hope of gaine to be had by force of persuasion. But it is no maruell though a Persian said that: for that maner of lying was to a good end, namely to deceiue the guard of the Magies, who had vsurped the crown, that they might be killed, as they were afterw [...]rd. And in this and such other like, it is lawful to lie, else not. Dauid detesting this vice, compareth it to murder; saying in the fith Psalme, The Lord abhorreth the blood thirstie and deceitfull man. Periander ordained by his laws, that he which had lied to another mans harm, should carie a stone in his mouth the space of a month after. The Gimnosophists of Caldie condemned liers to perpetuall prison; & the Scythians condemned al such to death, or to some other grieuous punishmēt as tooke vpon thē to foretell things that were false. And it is to be noted, that b [...]b [...]ing, lying, & inquisitiuenes, are three grounds or vnder be­ings that resemble one another, and may be reduced into one: [Page 344] For the inquisitiue person is commonly talkatiue, and the tal­katiue person is a her, and a lier is inquisitiue, and the inquisi­tiue person is a lier. And from this fountaine spring slaunde­rers, talebearers, [...] mockers, flatterers, and backbiters. The slaun­derer and the tale-bearer are the impes of the inquisitiue, of whom Ecclesiasticus speaking saith, That the slaunderer desi­leth his owne soule, and shall be hated in all things. And he that so continueth shall be odious: whereas the peacemaker and wise man shall be honoured. And therefore he will haue vs to stop our eares with thornes, to the end we may not heare the slaunderous tongue. Dauid in the fourteenth Psalme rec­koning vp many sorts of innocencie, [...] maketh great account of him, that yeeldeth not his eare to heare the slaunder of his neighbour. And in the hundred Psalme, he saith, That he pur­sued him that secretly slaundered his neighbour. And Salomon in the eighteenth of the Prouerbs, saith, That the words of the tale-bearer are as wounds, and do enter euen into the en­trails. For he that purposeth with himselfe to raise slaunders, searcheth out all the euil that is in a house, to publish it abrode afterward. If a woman by her ouersight haue giuen any occa­sion of suspition, by and by he blazeth her abroade, as though she were the wickeddest woman in the world. As for them that are vnchast indeed, they besisted to the vttermost, and their legend is disciphered without omitting anie thing. If a man haue neuer so small a specke of vice, or of euill grace in him, the slaunderer faileth not to make euery flie an elephant. They that offend in this case, do sinne directly against that commaundement of the ten, which prohibiteth vs to beare false witnesse against our neighbour. For he that lieth (saith Salomon) is a false witnesse. Also he sinneth against the law of the Gospell, which saith, It were better for a man to be drowned in the bottome of the sea, than that he should giue occasion of offence or stumbling to his neighbour. And in the nineteenth of the Prouerbs, The false-witnesse shall not escape vnpunished, [...] and he that speaketh lies shall perish. And in the fiue and twentith, The man that beareth false-witnesse [Page 345] against his neighbor is as a club, a sword, and a sharpe arrow. And in the sixt of the Prouerbs, God hateth false lips, and the false-witnesse that bringeth forth vntruth. Saint Iames saith, Speake not euill one of another, He that speaketh e­uill of his neighbour, speaketh euill of the law: that is to say, in speaking and iudging after his own fancie, he vsurpeth the authoritie that belongeth to the law. It is written in the first chapter of the booke of Wisdome, That the spirit of wisdom is gentle, and will not discharge him that speaketh euill with his lips: For the sound of his words shall mount vp vnto God, to the punishing of his iniquities. Therefore beware of grud­ging which booteth nothing, We must not eat with the slaunderer. and refraine your tongues from slaunder. And Saint Paule in the sixt to the Corinthians, for­biddeth vs to eat meat with the slanderer. The Psalmist saith, That he that wil liue long, must keep himselfe from mis-spea­king, and from speaking deceit, reprouing them that set their mouthes to slaundering and euil speaking, and their tongues to the kindling of fraud and anoyance. And the seuen and fiftith Psalme saith, My soule is among lions, I dwell among fire­brands, euen among men whose teeth are speares and arrows, and their tongue a sharpe sword. By the teeth are meant false reports. And in the threescore and fourth Psalme, they shoot foorth their arrows, euen bitter words: that is to say, False and stinging reports, The man that accustometh himself to euil speaking, shall receiue no in­struction. to smite the innocent in secret. And in the 2 [...]. of Ecclesiasticus, The man that is nusled in wordes of re­proch or wrong, will receiue no instruction all the dayes of his life. And in the eightenth chapter, The backbiter and the double tongued man are accursed for they trouble many that are at peace. A double tongue hath remooued many, and dispersed them from nation to nation. It hath destroied cities that were walled with riches, and defaced the houses of great personages. The tale b [...] ­ [...]er setteth princes at variance. It hath disseuered the powers of peoples, and set strong men at diuision. And in the sixteenth of the Prouerbs, The froward man setteth forth debate, and the tale-bearer setteth princes at diuision. Pl [...]to saith in his Lawes, That we must forbeare to offend against good men, either in word or [Page 346] deed, and that we must be wel aduised, that we ouershoot not our selues when we either praise or dispraise any man: because God is angrie when we blame him that resembleth him; that is to say, a good and honest man. Solon (as Plutarch reporteth of him in his life) made an ordinance, whereby he prohibi­ted men to speake euill of those that were dead. For it is well and deuoutly done, to thinke that a man ought not to touch the dead, no more than to touch things consecrated to God, and to refraine from offending against them that are no lon­ger in the world. Railing and slandering do bring foorth vnrecōcilable enmitie. And it is wisdome euen in policie, to beware that enmities grow not to be immortall; sagely deeming, that railing and slaundering proceed of vnreconcileable enmitie. Alexander Seuerus said, That princes ought to esteeme liers and slaunderers, as great enemies vnto them, as those that en­ter vpon their lands by force. For these do but seize vpon their grounds and lordships, but the others do rob them of their reputation and renowme. In the citie of Naples there was one Demetrius, who ceased not to raile vpon Totilus with­out cause, and to do him all the spight he could. But being ta­ken afterward with all the residue, he onely had his tongue and hands cut off. Nicholas Scot was beheaded, for railing vp­on Maximilian Sforcia duke of Millan. And Liuian a cap­taine of Venice, hauing taken many prisoners, vsed them all well, sauing Godfrey Galear, whose head he caused to be smit­ten off immediatly, because that in scoffing at him, he called him ordinarily the little crook-backt beast. Augustus shewed by his punishing of it, how much more daungerous railing and slaundering is, than manslaughter. For he pardoned Cuma that would haue murthered him, and made him consull; whereby he woon him to be his friend. But for railing vpon him, he draue Timagenes out of his house: deeming that of an enemie he might make a friend, and of a friend a defender: but of a railer, A backbiter cannot be re­claimed. backbiter and slaunderer, a man can make no­thing else. And therefore he thought good to driue away the slaunderer, because he was not to be reformed. And lie did it not so much for reuenge, as to sequester the slaunderer [Page 347] farre from him. For ordinarily he was not mooued at such people, saying, It was inough for him that men did him no further harme than in words. Wrong retur­neth to him that telleth it. Among slaunderers we put them, that vpon choler do tell of their cruel wrongs: of which sort of men a wise man will make none account, because he deemeth that the wrong returneth alwaies to him that hath told it.

Like as dust flieth backe into the eies of him that puffeth it, as saith Saint Ambrose; or like as the reflexion of the light offendeth weake eies the more, as saith Plutarch: so those are most offended at their wrongs, which the truth hath made to rebound against them that offered them. A wicked life draweth wrōgs vnto it. Princes must not haue tickle toungs, not ticklish eares. And as the North-east wind draweth clouds vnto him: so a wicked life draweth wrongs vnto it. And therefore a prince must be well ware, that he haue not a tickle tongue, and ticklish eares, as Saint Ierom saith in the life of Clearks. That is to say, he must neither mis-speake others, nor heare others mis-spoken of, to the end that men may learn, not to be hastie in misrepor­ting men, when they see the king taketh no pleasure in it, who ought to shun such persons as the plague, and to shew them no good countenance. For as the wind, driueth away the raine, so doth a frowning looke driue away the slaunde­rer. For if the Prince suffer them to come neare him, Of mockers and scornets. he shall become like them, not onely a [...]launderer, but also a scorner, whom Dauid detesteth in his first Psalme, affirming that man to be blessed, that hath not sit on the seat of the scornefull. Salomon in the two and twentith of the Prouerbs, forbiddeth vs to scorne any man in the bitternesse of his soule. For God who seeth all things, is he that exalteth and pulleth downe. And in the ninth chapter, he opposeth scornfulnesse against wisdome, saying thus: If thou haue vnderstanding, thou shalt be wise to thy selfe: but if thou be scornefull, thou shalt suf­fer all alone. Scornfulnesse procureth a prince the ill will of his people.

And in the 14, The scornefull seeketh wisdome, and fin­deth it not; and nothing maketh a prince to incurre the ill will of his subiects more than scornfulnesse. Fur as Terence [Page 348] saith, They that are not rich, and they that are nothing in re­spect of the great ones, do take all things in ill part, and think continually that all men hold scorne of them. Plutarch in the life of Phocion, saith, That commonly aduersities make men fretting, wayward, and easie to be set in a choler, loth to giue [...]are to anie thing, and soone offended at all speeches and wordes, that are but somewhat roughly spoken. Whosoeuer reproueth them when they do amisse, seemeth verily to vp­braid them with their misfortunes, and he that speaketh free­ly, seemeth to raile vpon them. Admonish [...]ments must be tempered with some sweet­nesse. For like as honie being of it owne nature sweet, doth neuerthelesse breed paine, when it is laid to sores, wounds, and parts infected: so oftentimes wise and true admonitions do bite and exasperate them that are in aduersitie, vnlesse they be wel sweetned. Whereupon it com­meth to passe, that if a man do scorne a man that is poore and distressed, the poore man beareth it vnpatiently. The which thing Scipio Nasica was made to seele, who suing for the Edil­ship at Rome, and being in a maner sure of all the voices, tooke one of his electors by the hand, and asked him if he would go hand in hand with him, because the man had rough hands, as commonly all labourers and artificers haue: Wherewith the people being prouoked to displeasure, did flatly refuse him. [...] [...]asting. There is another sort of scorning, which is called [...]ea­sting, the which may well inough become a man if it be to good purpose, but there are few that vse it without some bit­ternesse. For as Macrobius saith, A ieast is as bitter as an accu­sation, if it be not spoken fitly. And when it is cast forth by a great lord, it is in such sort, as lightly it hath some bitternesse with it. Iea [...]i [...]g doth ill beseeme a great lord. Ptolomie king of Aegypt ieasting with an ignorant Gramarian, asked him who was the father of Pelius? Sir (quoth the Gramarian) I will answer you, if you will first tell me who was the father of Lagus; meaning thereby to giue a quip to the kings race, whereat when all his men were offen­ded, he said, If it be not meet for a king to put vp taunting words at other mens hands, neither is it meet that he should taunt any other man.

[Page 349]Next the scorner and the slaunderer, Of the flat­terer. commeth the flatte­rer, which is a verie perillous beast. For it biteth laughing, and turneth kingdoms and principalities vpside-downe. One de­maunded on a time of Diogenes, what beasts teeth did bite most venemously, and daungerously. If ye speake of tame beasts (quoth he) the flatterer: if of wild beasts, the backbi­ter. Both of them haue a mischieuous tooth, but the tooth of the flatterer is the more daungerous. When we heare a man speake euil of vs, we do what we can to correct our fault: but it is hard for vs to beware of the flatterer. For he is not easie to be discerned, because he pretendeth to be a friend, and not to gainsay vs, and in the end he suffereth himselfe to be ouer­come with reason, and doth so throughly bewitch the mind of him whom he possesseth, that it is easie for him to deceiue him afterward. The allure­ments of flatterers are more daung [...] ­rous than the wounds of foes. For as Cicero saith in his Duties, We be of such nature, that to our own seeming we be worthie of praise. Now the allurements of such kind of people, are more daungerous, (saith Salomon) than the wounds that come by enimies. Their words are sweet, but they wound and pearce euen into the bowels. And therefore Esay saith thus: My people, they that praise thee, seduce thee, and disorder the paths of thy feet. And Dauid in the 12 Psal. wisheth that God would cut out the tongues of all flatterers. And the thing that maketh them to preuaile with vs, is the loue of our selues, as saith Plutarch in his treatise how to discerne a flatterer from a friend. By rea­son wherof, forasmuch as euery man is the first & greatest flat­terer of himselfe, it is easie for him to admit vnto him another flatterer straunger, whom he will haue to be a witnesse and a confirmer of the opinion, which he hath conceiued of him­selfe. In which case a prince is more deceiued than a priuat person, because he is not gainsaid in any thing, nor woont to heare any thing that may displease him. Insomuch that the flatterer plaieth his feats the better, and more safely with him, vnlesse the prince do as Agesilaus did, who liked well to be commended of such as were not afraid to find fault with him. On the contrarie, Alexander louing flatterers, was ouer­throwne [Page 350] by them, and slue Calisthenes, Parmenio, and Phil [...]tas, to whom he was beholden for his crowne. This caused Ana­charsis to counsel Craesus to banish al flatterers out of his court, saying, The prince that loueth flatterie lo­ueth not the truth. Two sorts of flatterers. That the prince which loueth flatterers, loueth not the truth. Now there are of flatterers two sorts; the one are but trencher-men, which for a morsell of meat will sooth a man whatsoeuer he saies, like Gnato in Terence. The other be close flatterers, which put vpon them the visor of a friend, and hold aloofe from the ordinarie fashions of the peti-flat­terers, that delight men to deceiue them the better: and these are hard to be discerned. And as a wolfe resembleth a dog, so a flatterer resembleth a friend, And therfore it behoueth a man to be ware, that he take not the wolfe for the dog. But in this point they iumpe togither, that commonly they follow not poore men that are of no abilitie, but sticke ordinarily to the greatest. The flatterer seeketh but credit. And as Plutarch saith, Euen as lice doth go away af­ter death, and forsake the bodie so soone as the bloud is quen­ched, wherby they were fed: so flatterers neuer resort to those whose affairs begin to go to wrack, and whose credit decaieth. He that is desirous to learne the meane how to discerne a flat­terer from a friend, let him read the fore-alledged treatise of Plutarch, from whence I haue taken part of that which I haue said. And the matter it selfe compelleth me to ad this, which I haue taken out of a thousand of the good and goodly things that are there. We haue (saith Plutarch) two parts in our soul, the one true, which delighteth in things honest, and is obedi­ent to reason; the other brutish, which delighteth in vntruth and letteth it selfe go after affections. The friend sticketh to the good after the maner of phisitions, preseruing and increa­sing that which is sound: but the flatterer holding himself to the brutish part that is subiect to affections, doth rub it, tickle it, & put it quite away from reason. And like as there be meats that are good neither for the bloud, nor for the sin [...]es, and do but swell the belly, and breed grosse & euil [...]lesh, such as is ra­ther lush than sound and substantiall: so the talke of a flatte­rer, addeth not any thing to wisdome and sobrietie, but either [Page 351] prouoketh to wrath, or stirreth vp a mans own discontentmēt, or else maketh him proud. The descrip­tion of a flat­terer. For the flatterer hath no peece of truth, or of plaine meaning, or of free-dealing. But like as an ape putteth vp wrongs, because he cannot keepe the house as a dog, labor as an oxe, or beare burdens as a horse, and therfore doth nothing but make mirth, and prouoke to laughter: euen so the flatterer, because that abhorring all perill and daunger, he cannot do good to his friend by his words in counsell, or by his deeds in warre: refuseth not the doing of any thing that may delight or please, as to be a trustie messenger of loue, a cunning conueyer of yong venerie, diligent to discharge you of the care of the furnishing out of the charges of a banquet, readie to prepare suppers, a carefull conueyer of concubines, troublesome and impudent towards friends, and practising to cast the wife out of the house, if he can. Those in few words are the vertues of flatterers, whom princes of all o­thers ought to beware of, specially the close ones. For as Cicero saith, Euerie man may espie the open flatterer; but the close one is not easie to be discerned, because his flatte­ring lurketh vnder pretence of gaine-saying, and in making countenance to haue a man in estimation, and in the end he suffereth himself to be ouercome, to the intent that he which is deceiued, may thinke himself to haue gotten the aduantage. The last impe of the wicked tongue, The talebea­rer or back­biter. is the backbiter or tale-bearer: of whom Salomon speaking in the eighteenth of the Prouerbs, saith, His words are as wounds, and that they pierce euen into the entrails within the bellie. This trade was de­uised first by tyrants, who being acquainted with mens hu­mours, chose the greatest bablers and the wickeddest persons, to serue their turnes in listning for newes, and in hearkening what men said of them. Zozimus saith, That vnder the em­perour Constantius, there were euen forges and shops of slaun­ders, and that those backbiters laid chiefly for such as were in prosperitie, in hope to haue the offices and promotions of those whom they could put out, the which made them to applie themselues wholy to bring vp slaunder vpon them. [Page 352] We in French do call such folke Mouches, that is Flies; The Romans called them Delatores, that is to say, Talebearers; and the Greeks called them Acoustes, that is to say, Hearkners, or Spies, Talebearers were first brought vp by euill princes. which go and report vnto princes all that euer they here and see. That first that vsed them was the yonger Darius, who suspected all men. And next him Dennis, the tyrant of Si­racuse, who intermedled them among the burgesses, that by that means he might easily heare all newes. But at the altera­tion of the state, they were the first whom the Syracusans put to the sword. Since that time princes haue so doted vpon that kind of people, that they haue giuen them certain fees to pro­moote men, that is to wit, the one halfe of the goods of him that was accused, concerning the which matter there was a law called Papies law. But Nero abridging them of their vn­measurable libertie of accusing all men, did cut off that gaine, and brought it to a fourth part, whereof they were euer after called Quarterers, because they had a quarter of the goods that were so excheated. Tiberius was the first of all the empe­rors of Rome that brought them credit, and after him Domi­tian. Neuerthelesse, he punished slaunderers very sharply, say­ing, That the prince which punisheth them not doth stir them vp. Vespasian and his sonne Titus, caused them to be whipped, and afterward sent them vnto the sands to be seene of al men. Caligula would not admit any mention of a certaine conspira­cie that was made against him, saying, That he had not done any thing why he should be hated, & therfore he would giue no eare to Talebearers. Traian said, It was safer for a prince to hearken to such as discouered their faults vnto them, than to heare the reports of the other sort: and that it is hard that that prince should haue vnbloudy hands, which hath too ten­der eares. Antonine did put the Talebearers to death, which could not proue their sayings. And if they proued them; then gaue he them their hire, but yet did he declare them to be infamous. The punishment of fals-accusers is written in the Digests, and in the bookes of Moyses, where all men may see them.

CHAP. XIIII. That princes must aboue all things eschue Choler.

THe fourth sort of temperance consi­steth in moderating anger, Anger vnse­parably mat­ched with rashnes. the which Mercurie said to be vnseperatly mat­ched with rashnesse. And therfore So­crates said, It was lesse danger to drink foule and muddie water, than to stanch a mans choler with reuenge. The contrarie thereof is meeldnesse, clemencie, or meekenesse, which is the meane betweene anger and blockishnes or sheepishnes, and moderateth the passions that rise in vs by reason of some wrong or euill spoken or done vnto vs, the which we would punish more than reason will ad­mit, if we should suffer our choler to go vnbridled. And as a wise and mild man must not be angry at euery word; so not to be angry at any time, and to leaue malefactors vnpunished for feare of being angry, is ill done. And we may offend as well in too litle, as in too great desire of punishing crimes. For it is meet we should be angry in due time, with such as deserue it, proui­ded that reason accompany our anger, the which taking from anger the eagernes of reuenge, (as Plutarch sayth) doth the more safely and more profitably punish the partie that deser­ueth it, without putting a mans selfe or the partie in danger, as choler often doth. Impatiency. For as Salomon saith, he that is vnpatient shal beare the paine of it. Meeldnes neither seeketh reuenge of the faults that are committed, ne leaueth great faults vnpuni­shed. Whereof all such ought to take good heed, as are in authoritie, least they passe the bounds of meeldnes and gentle­nesse, through too rigorous correction; or lay away the rigour of correction, through too much meeldnes and lenitie, as Saint [Page 354] Gregorie sayth in his morals. Aristotle in the fourth booke of his morals, sayth that as inordinat anger is a vice, so is also the vtter want of it. For when there is a heinous crime, a man ought to be angry, and they that in such case are not angry, seeme igno­rant, misaduised, and carelesse to encounter the faults that are committed. Cicero in his Duties sayth, There is not any thing more commendable than meeldnesse, nor more beseeming a great lord: and yet must it be with condition, that seuerity be matched with it, without the which, no common-weale can be wel gouerned. Meeldnesse, and clemēcy, and the dif­ference be­twixt them. Aristotle in his Rhetoriks, calleth meeldnesse a pacifying of choler; and differeth from clemency, in that cle­mencie is a gentlenes in punishing, proceeding from the supe­rior to the inferior, wheras meeldnesse is common to all men, according to the distinction of S. Thomas of Aquine.

What anger is.Anger is a boiling vp of the blood about the hart, which (as saith Aristotle in his booke of the Soule) worketh an eagernes to punish the offender, or else (as he saith in his Rhetoriks) it is a desire of reuenge appearing with a greife, or an eager dispo­sition to reuenge: or else (as Plutarch saith) a certaine enforcing of the courage vnmeasurably swelling, with the affections that prouoke a man to reuenge. Chrisostome in his third Homi­ly saith, It is a certaine violentnesse void of reason. Cicero in his Tusculanes, saith it is a certaine eagernes and inordinat desire to punish a party, whom we deem to haue done vs wrong.

Let vs speake first of meeldnesse, and afterward of Anger. Meeldnesse is commended of all men, and numbred by Saint Mathew among the eight points of blessednesse. And yet not­withstanding he that is meeld and mercifull, faileth not to be angry. For else he should be blockish and without any feeling. But he is angry with reason, he is angrie at the vice, and not at the person. And that is the meaning of the Psalmist where he saith, Be angrie and sinne not. After that manner was Saint Paule angrie, at the horrible wrong done by Elymas the Magician; and Saint Peter at Saphyra. Moyses was counted the meeldest man of his time, and yet he made men often­times to passe the edge of the sword. For his meeldnesse was [Page 355] no impeachment to iustice, and to the punishing of sin. Meeld­nes then is a vertue that neither seeketh reuenge of all faults, nor leaueth the great faults vnpunished. In which behalf ma­ny deceiue themselues, The leauing of wicked men vnpuni­shed is cruel­ty against good men. Of clemency or mercy. Examples of clemency or mercy. calling a prince mercifull, when he pardoneth one that hath cōmitted a wicked murder, or some other notable mischiefe. But (as Archidamus saith) this is to be counted cruelty against good men.

Mercie is occupied in pardoning, not the faults done a­gainst the publick-weale, but the faults commited against our selues, as Titus did, who forgaue them that had conspi­red against him: and Agesilaus, who by his benefits made his enemy his friend: and likewise Augustus, who pardoned Cu­ma a traitor, and banished Timagenes that did but slaunder him without hurting him. There was one Caelianus accused vnto him to haue spokē euil of him: Proue it (qd. Augustus) & then shall ye see that I haue a toung, & that I can speak euill of him also. Tiberius wrate vnto him that one railed vpon him: and he answered, it was inough for him that no man did him harme. Alexander said it was a princely thing, to be ill spoken of for well doing. Philip did so much good vnto one that railed vpon him incessantly, that he wonne him to be a faithfull seruant, and a trumpet to sound abroade his praises. And when he had enquired of his friends that had counselled him to punish the railer, whether he had ben as outrageous in his words as he was wont to be or no; and vnderstood by them that he spake good of him euery where: It is in our owne power to haue good or ill report Lo (quoth he) ye see it is in our owne power to haue good or bad report. The same Philip hauing one of his eies striken out at the siege of Modon, when he was possessed of the town, delt neuer a whit the worse with the townsmen for it.

Antigonus walking abroad in his campe, heard certaine soul­diers speaking euill of him, wherupon lifting vp the tent, he shewed himself vnto them, and said, Ye shall weepe for it if y [...] go not further of to speake euill of me. Pirrhus was easie to pardon, whensoeuer any man had angred him; insomuch that one day (as Plutarch sayth in his life) when certaine [Page 356] yong men were brought vnto him, that had spoken many out­trageous words against him: he asked them if they had spoken those words or no. Yea sir (qd. one of them) & had spoken ma­ny mo, but that our wine failed vs. At which saying he smiled, and pardoned them. The same prince being counselled to ba­nish a tailer that spake euil of him, answered: it is better that he should raise an ill report of vs among a few by tarying here stil, than that he should sow abrode his railing here and there, by driuing him [...]urther of. Quintus Flaminius was soone angry, but he hild it not long, and he gaue but light punishment to him with whom he was angry. Anon after that Adrian was created emperor, he met with a deadly enemy of his to whom he said, Thou art escaped. He that most can, least should, in see­king re­uenge. Meaning that he would neuer go about to be auēged of him, now that it lay in his hand to do it. King Lois the twelfth did the like (as hath bin said in another place) when he would not be reuenged for the wrongs, that had ben done vnto him afore he was king. Pittacus had but one only son, who was slain through misfortune by a sawyer, the sawyer was taken and brought to Pittacus to be punished: But he let him go, say­ing it was better to pardon than to punish. Plutarch reporteth in the life of Pericles, that there was a shameles railer, that railed vpon him all a whole day togither, to whom Pericles answered not a word, but intended to the dispatching of matters of im­portance vntill it was night, whom the railer followed home to his lodging still railing vpon him. And when Pericles was come thither, he commaunded one of his seruants to take a torch, and to light the man home back to his owne lodging. Ye see here a wonderfull temperance in a prince that had absolute power in the citie of Athens: who notwithstanding that he had such power, yet yeelded not a whit to hatred, spite, or anger. Insomuch that he made his boast that there was neuer any Athenian that wore a black garment by his means. Pompey also was greatly commended for pardoning the Mamertines that had taken part with Marius, howbeit that his so doing was for his hostes sake. Cicero sayth that Caesar in setting vp againe the Images of Pompey, did the [Page 357] better fasten and settle his owne: as who would say, that by this clemency of his he woone the fauour of the citizens, wherby he himselfe should be guarded. Albeit that Augustus tooke the Alexandrians his enemies by force, yet did he par­don them in honour of Alexander the founder of their citie. In respect whereof the Alexandrians found themselues more beholden to him, than to Alexander himselfe, & commended him in all cases, saying that Alexander was the founder, but Augustus was the preseruer of their citie. But the softnesse, patience, The meeld­nes of Dauid. and meeldnesse of Dauid is not to be compared withall by those that I haue alledged: For he did put vp infi­nit iniuries at the hands of Semei, without giuing him any an­swer, commanding his men to let him alone, and telling them that God had raised him vp to humble him; and after his vi­ctorie, he pardoned him that misdeed, notwithstāding that he followed him casting stones at him. Which serueth to shew, that the precept of the gospell concerning the forgiuing of e­nemies, was practised by princes of good nature, as Dauid him­selfe witnesseth in his seuenth Psalm, where he saith, If I haue requited euill for euill, I am contented that he shall pursue me in warre, and that he shall take me and fling me against the ground, and so forth. Saint Iohn Chrisostome in his treatise of meeldnesse, sayth, That meeldnesse becommeth all men, but specially kings and such as are set in authoritie. Meeldnes wel beseemeth kings and great states. And the more power that the maiesty of a king hath to do al things: the more ought he to bridle himselfe, & to take Gods law for his guide, if he will haue glorie and honor of his doings. Our Lord in S. Mathew wil haue vs to learne of him, because he is meeke and lowly, that we may find rest to our soules. Dauid commendeth his owne meekenesse vnto God, saying thus, Remember Da­uid and his meekenesse. The which he shewed well towards Saul, when he let him goe, at such time as he was in his power. S. Iohn Chrisostome in his xxix Homely against Irefulnes, The benefit of meeldnes. saith, That the meeke man is pleasant to himselfe, and profitable to others: and that choleriknesse displeaseth a mans selfe, and doth harme vnto others, of the which I must now speake in [Page 358] order. Two sorts of cholerik per­sons. And it is to be vnderstood, that there are two sorts of cholericke persons, the one will out of hand haue reuenge, and those are the lesse dangerous, so a man sh [...]n the first brunt of them. For by and by they coole of themselues, and suffer not the sunne to go downe vpon their wrath. For com­monly they burst forth into words, and vtter their choler in wh [...]t speeches, by means wherof the rigour of their doings is assuaged, as the lord of Chaumont told wisely to the Vincen­tines, which were afraid of the emperors anger. The other sort dissemble the wrong that is done them, that they may haue time and place to consider of it, and those are very dangerous, as Homer sayth of Agamemnon, Although he dissemble his anger for a time (sayth he) yet ceasseth he not to hold it fast in his heart, vntill hee haue reuenged himselfe indeed. And as Peter of Gauntwood said, Some men do forgiue with their mouth, An argument of the chole­ricke. but hatred and malice abide stil in their heart. Neuer­thelesse it seemeth to the common people, (as Plutarch sayth in his treatise of the Bridling of wrath) that because it is stor­mie, therefore it is workfull, so that an angry mans menaces are hardines, his headines stoutnes, his crueltie disposition to do great things, his vnappeasable hardnesse firme stedinesse, and his furiousnes a hating of vice; after the maner of Helias, who was angry at the peoples sinnes, through a certaine zeale that he had to Godward: and of Cato, who was alwaies of the same mind, C [...]olericke pursons aptest for learning. towards such as were giuen to vice. And to that purpose serueth this which is said in philosophie, that the cho­lerick folk are aptest to learn sciences. And the Prouerb saith, That he which hath no choler, hath no wit. Many esteem it to be as it were the sinewes of the soule. Plato in his Lawes, saith, That a good man must be both meeld and also courageous; that is to say, not vtterly void of kindly choler. For we can hardly without it, eschue the wrongs and harmes that are hard to be cured otherwise, than by fight, by victorie, and by defending a mans selfe, and by not suffering a mans selfe to be wronged: the which thing cannot be done without anger and stomaching. And in his Theeterus he saith, It is hard to find a [Page 359] man both soft and wittie togither. And they that haue sharpe and readie wits, and apt to be taught, are commonly choli­ricke and hastie, as being caried with waues like ships with­out ankers.

Aristoile saith, Chol [...]ricknes is a token of a readie wit. that cholericknesse is a true signe of a rea­die wit, and of a forward, braue, and gallant nature, that is not sleepie and drowzie; and that anger must be vsed not as a captaine, but as a souldier. Saint Iohn Chrysostome vpon the fourth Psalme of Dauid, saith, That anger is good and profi­table against them that do wrong, or be negligent, and that it is a fit instrument to waken vs out of our sleepinesse, to make vs the more fierce in being angrie for their sakes, that haue receiued any wrong or harme. Alexander from his very youth did burne with desire to go to warre, and to do some exploit of armes. The which thing Aristotle perceiuing, to turne him away from it, told him that he must tarie till he were of age. Nay (quoth Alexander) for if I tarie so long, I am a­fraid that the great hardinesse and forwardnesse which is now in my youth, will then be quite gone: and this vehement desire giueth the greater force to our doings. Yet notwith­standing these reasons cannot moue vs to thinke, Arguments a­gainst choler. That which is done through perturbation cannot be don steadily. but that all perturbations are attainted with vice, and this aboue al others. For as Cicero saith in his Duties, A man cannot do wel and ad­uisedly with anger. For that which is don with a trobled mind, cannot bee done steadily, nor be allowed of them that see it. And as saith Theodericke writing to Iohn the consull of Cham­paine, Cholericke persons haue no feeling of the thing that is iust, neither seeke they any moderation of their reuenge. For this cause Saint Paule in his Epistle to the Romans, biddeth vs giue place vnto wrath, and to let it vanish away, waiting for the iudgement of God. And Saint Iames in his Epistle saith, That the anger of man performeth not the righteousnesse of God; that is to say, hindereth the accomplishment of Gods worke in vs. And Saluian bishop of Marsels saith, That wrath is the mo­ther of hatred. Anger is the mother of hatred. And therefore the Lord would in any wise ex­clude anger, for feare least anger should breed hatred.

[Page 360]And for that cause he said in Saint Matthew, That whoso­euer is angry with his brother, is worthie to be punished in iudgement. Salomon saith in his Prouerbs, That a stone is hea­uie, and sand is weightie, but the wrath of a foole is heauier than they both. I confesse that oft-times it incrocheth vpon good dispositions, as euill weeds do vpon good grounds: but the diligence of the good husband doth easily destroy them, to make roome for good corne, and good hearbs. And as tou­ching that Aristotle saith, That anger must be vsed as a soul­dier: he meaneth a certaine kindly and princely coragiousnes, which maketh men to follow a braue and difficult obiect, as I haue said alreadie of Alexanders forwardnes, which prouoked him to warre. For such a boiling forwardnesse, sauoureth more of noblenesse of mind, than of wrath. And whereas Saint Iohn Chrisostome saith, That anger is behoofful; that is ment for the punishing of faults. But as he saith in the same place, That is not properly wrath or anger, but a care, a wisdome, and an or­derly disposition, as the father that is angrie with his childs fault, for the care that he hath of him. And whereas some say, That anger hath a kind of noble-mindednesse, and of resem­blance vnto prowes, it is like as if a man should say, that a man which is sicke of a feuer were well dsposed, because he doth some parts of a lustie man in his fits, which he could not doe if he were in health: Cholericknes procedeth of weaknes of the mind. Euen so is it (saith he) with anger, which giueth a man a certaine forwardnesse that oftentimes is taken for prowesse, and yet is so farre off from sauouring of prowesse and true forwardnesse, that contrariwise it rather proceedeth of weaknesse and feeblenesse, than of hardinesse, as witnesseth Plutarch, making this cōparison; Like as the swelling and puf­fing vp of the flesh, betokeneth a great sorenesse in the flesh: so in tender minds, the more they relent and yeeld vnto sorow, the more abundance of cholericknesse doe they cast foorth, arguing the greater imbecilitie. That is the cause why women are commonly more treaf and testie than men; and sick-men, than men in health; and old men, than men that are in the flower of their youth; and men in aduersitie, than men in pro­speritie. [Page 361] But to subdue anger is a point of prowesse and noble­mindednesse, as saith Plutarch in the life of Dion, To subdue an­ger is a point of a noble and valiant corage the proofe whereof is shewed, not in bearing a mans selfe modestly to­wards his friends, or toward honest men, but in the gentle for­giuing of them that haue offended him, & in his meeld relea­sing of his displeasure. That is the cause why Salomon saith, It is better for a man to bridle his wrath, than to win a citie. And if a man will say, That irefulnesse is as it were the sinues of the soule: Irefulnes like­ned to the crampe in the opinion of Plutarch he should rather liken it vnto the crampe, which retcheth a man out, or draweth him in with so much the greater vehemencie, as it is the more desi­rous to reuenge. And as the same authour saith in the life of Coriolanus, Anger seemeth to be magnanimity, because it hath a desire to ouercome, and will not yeeld to any man: and yet for all that, it is but a feeblenes, the which thrusteth the cho­ler forth, as the weakest and most passionate part of the soule, no lesse than a corrupt matter of an impostume. They that haue vpheld, Cholerick per­sons vnfit for gouernment. that cholericke persons are apt to learne, haue added that they were not fit for gouernment, and therefore that the Lacedemonians praied dayly vnto God, to inable them to beare wrongs: esteeming that person vnworthie to be in authoritie, or to deale in great affairs, that is subiect to anger. That is the cause why Chilo the Lacedemonian, being asked by his brother, why he was not made a iudge as well as he; answered, It was because he could skill to beare wrongs patiently that were done vnto him, which thing his brother could not do: That man is vnworthie of authoritie which cannot beare iniuries. as who would say, He is not worthie to be a ma­gistrat, which cannot beare iniuries and discountenance them. There is a Greeke prouerbe which saith, That a prince must heare both the iust and vniust. And as Lois the eleuenth said, He that can no skill to dissemble, can no skill to reigne. For they that run headily vpon their owne opinions, and will not yeeld to any other, do in the end become desolate. But they that will liue among men, The vnpatient are forsaken, or else haue few followres. and haue to do in matters of state, must of necessitie become patient; or else they shall haue few to follow them, or rather they shall be vtterly forsaken. [Page 362] One asked a philosopher, wherefote he durst not medle with the publike affairs? It is not (quoth he) because I am afraid of them, but because I am afraid of my selfe: whereby he gaue inckling of his owne ouer-great cholericknes, which he knew to be cleane contrarie to the managing of publike affairs. Ano­ther asked one why he liked not to teach children: because (quoth he) I like not my selfe: meaning that he was too cho­lericke to teach children. The cholerick are vnmeete to teach chil­dren, For as Plutarch saith, Men are not woont to draw a fresh cheese with a hooke: but as for the cholericke, they draw not, but brooze, breake and shatter in peeces; and in stead of drawing, do thrust off children from comming to learning. Coriolanus was a great personage, and but for his choler, one of the forwardest in Rome: But that did raigne so sore in him, that it made him of small account, and vnmeet to liue and be conuersant with men. Insomuch that to auenge himselfe, he displeased all his friends, and of friends made them enemies, and so he refused the repeale of his ba­nishment, the which the people offered vnto him. Albeit that Philopaemen was an excellent captaine, furnished and indued with many vertues: yet Plutarch blameth him for his chole­ricknes, saying, That in the controuersies that hapned in mat­ters of gouernment, oftentimes he could not hold himselfe within the bounds of grauitie, patience, & meeldnes, but flang out often into choler and wilfulnes: by reason whereof he see­med to haue mo parts of a good captain for war, than of a sage gouernor of a common-weale for peace. For nothing is more contrarie to the admitting of good counsell, than choler and too much hastines. Anger is a medly of all the passions of the mind. Plutarch in his treatise of the Brideling of choler, saith, That choler is a medly composed of al the passi­ons of the soule. For it is deriued and drawne out of pleasure and sorrow, insolencie and audacitie: it holdeth of enuy, in that it is well apaid to see another mans harme; and it is matched with violence and manslaughter, for that it fighteth, but not in a mans owne defence, and cannot suffer but to make o­ther men suffer, and to ouer-throw them: and it taketh part of couetousnes in the thing that is most vnhonest, & worst to be [Page 363] liked, namely in that it is an eager and fierce desire to do harme. Anger a furor of short con­tinuance. Horace saith, That anger is a short madnesse. And Cato saith, There is no difference betweene a man that is in choler, and a mad man, but onely in the length of the time, esteeming anger to be a madnesse of short continunce. Saint Iohn Chry­sostome in his thirtith Homilie saith, There is no difference be­tweene a man possessed with a diuell, a mad-man, a drunken­man, and a man that is in choler. And if ye marke well a man that is throughly angrie, ye shall find his countenance of ano­ther sort than when he was in quiet. Ye shall see his eyes sparckling, his face red and fierie, his mouth writhed, all his lims trembling, and as it were in a palsie, his tongue stamme­ring, his words misplaced, and without discourse of reason, like the words of a foole, of a drunken man, or of a man out of his wits. Therefore a wise man will to the vttermost of his power, beware that he giue no place to his choler, no not euen in mirth, The inconue­nience that insueth of cholerickne [...]. Because that (as Plutarch saith) it turneth sport into enmitie: nor in talke or writing, because that of conference in learning, it maketh a headie heart-burning and conten­tion: nor in iudging, because it matcheth authoritie with in­solencie: nor in admonishing and teaching children, because it putteth them out of heart, and maketh them to hate lear­ning: nor in prosperitie, because it augmenteth the enuie that accompanieth good fortune: nor in aduersitie, because it ta­keth away pitie, when they that are falne into mis-fortune are angrie, and fall to encountering against those that should haue compassion of their miserie. The praise of meeknesse. On the contrarie, mild behauiour giueth to some succour, and to some honour; it sweetneth sowrenesse, and by the meeknesse thereof, ouer­commeth all roughnesse and harshnesse of mens maners. The operation of either of them is like a cleare and faire day, in winter and rainie weather. And therfore meeknesse doth spe­cially become a prince, Anger dange­rous in a prince. and him that is set in authoritie. For if there be any dangerous thing in the world, it is the anger of a prince.

And as Salomon saith in his Prouerbs, The indignation [Page 364] of a prince is as a messenger of death. And in another place he saith, That the indignation of a prince is like the roring of a lion, but his fauour is like the deaw vpon the grasse. And as Plutarch saith in his booke of the Trainment of princes, After they haue once spoken the word, the partie that is but suspec­ted to haue offended, is vndone. And as the naturall philoso­phers say, as the lightning commeth after the thunder, and yet is seene afore it; Among prin­ces men are oft condem­ned afore ought be prooued a­gainst them. and as in a wound, the bloud is seene afore the wound it selfe: so with princes and great potentates, pu­nishment goeth afore appeachment, and men are seene to be condemned, afore any thing be prooued against them: and that is because the prince cannot refraine his choler, vnlesse the force of reason set it selfe against their power, and breake it. For as saith Ecclesiasticus, According as the wood of the forrest is, so burneth the fire, and according as a mans power is, so burneth his anger, and so mounteth vp his wrath in sub­stance. Therefore the first and chiefest remedie that we can find for cholericknesse, Remedies a­gainst anger. The first re­medie. is to submit our selues to reason For as saith Aristotle in his seuenth booke of Morals, Anger hearke­neth vnto reason, howbeit confusedly and negligently, like a quicke and hastie page, that goes his way ere he haue heard halfe his errand, which causeth him to do his message amisse: or like a dog that barketh as soone as he heareth any noise at the doore, without knowing whether he that knocketh is a friend or a foe. Euen so anger, through fauour & light mouing, doth giue some eare to reason, but yet so as it runneth forth to punishing, without vnderstanding his commission. For rea­son had iudged that there was some reprochful deed, or some contempt, but choler flingeth forth incontinently at randon, as though it had beene concluded and resolutely determined by discourse of reason, that the partie which hath done the wrong, Naturally we couet reuenge and esteeme wrongs to be greater than they be. is to be fought withall out of hand. For naturally we couet reuenge of the harme that is done vs, and esteeme it greater than it is. And like as bodies seeme great through a cloud, so do mens faults seeme greater through anger, than they be in deed; by reason whereof we be desirous to punish [Page 365] them more than reason would we should. Insomuch that he which will punish as he ought to do, ought to be cleare from anger. For when anger bursteth out, it punisheth without rea­son, cleane contrarie to the maner of eating and drinking, the which we vse not but when we be a hungred and a thirst. But we do then vse reuenge best, when we neither hunger it, nor thirst it, but haue begun to forgo the appetite thereof, apply­ing it to reason and discretion, without the which we cannot master our choler. And as the smoke that steameth vp into our eies, letteth vs to see the things that are before our feete: so choler dimmeth reason, and suffereth vs not without paine and labour, Reason must be applied to anger. to enioy the good wherewith reason could furnish vs. And therefore it must be put in readinesse long aforehand. And like as they that looke to haue their citie besieged, do gather and lay vp in store aforehand, whatsoeuer may serue their turne, and tarie not til succor come to them from abrode: enen so (saith Plutarch) must the remedies prouided long a­fore out of Philosophie, The troubled mind heareth not what is said without. be applied in time, against ire. For by reason of the turmoile that is within, the mind heareth not that which is said without, vnlesse it haue reason of it owne, and such discretion of it selfe within, as doth by and by set it selfe against the anger and suppresse it. And that is the pallace which Homer in the first booke of his Iliads, fameth to haue restrained Achilles from killing Agamemnon.

The second remedie is, The second remedi [...] to retire frō the mischief aforehand, as soone as a man perceyueth it cōming; as they that be disea­sed with the falling sicknesse, do withdraw themselues in due time, for feare of falling into their disease afore companie. The third remedie is, The third remedie. to follow the counsel that Athenodorus gaue to Augustus, which was to say ouer the whole alphabet or Apsie at our entring into choler, to the end that that space of time, may giue vs leasure to moderate our anger. For the wise man (saith Salomon) delaieth his anger, and it is a glorie vnto him to ouerpasse faults committed, that is, to let the offence passe, and not to do as Darius did, who being in an exceeding great rage against the Athenians for sacking the citie Sardus, [Page 366] praied God that he might reuenge that iniurie, and ordained that thrise euerie day when his meat was vpon the table, one should say vnto him, Sir, remember the Athenians; but rather as the Romans did, who to shew that magistrats ought not to be angrie in hast, tied the rods of their pretors vnto halberds, to the intent that the delay which was made in the vntying of them, should breake and appease the headines of the pretors wrath. If the Pythagorians hapned to be angrie, their custom was to touch one another in the hand, afore they departed out of the place, to the intent that they would not let their anger take place, according to the precept of Saint Paule. The fourth remedie is, The fourth remedie. neuer to take vpon ones selfe the chastising of the partie that hath offended him, but to put ouer the do­ing thereof to some other bodie, as some philosophers haue don, who praied their friends to chastise their bond-slaues, say­ing, That they themselues could not do it, because they were too much moued with anger. As for example Architas of Ta­rent, who would not chastise his seruant because he was in an­ger with him. Cicero in his Duties saith, That a mā must be wel ware that he be not angry when he punisheth, because anger neuer keepeth the meane that ought to be between too much and too little. And magistrats ought to be like vnto lawes, which punish men, not for anger, but for iustice. The fift meane is, The fift re­medie. to cōsider that we would be loth to be punished as we would punish others; wherto agreeth the parable of the Receiuer in the Gospel, who hauing obtained fauour for his debts at his masters hand, yet neuertheles would needs play the tormētor towards a poore debter of his own. By the which parable we be cōmanded to forgiue the wrongs that our neighbors do vn­to vs, as god forgiueth vs freely our misdeeds. And for want of so doing, we cānot haue grace at gods hand. For thus saith Ec­clesiasticus, Doth man keepe anger against man, and craue health of God? If he that is a mortal man (saith he) do keepe anger, and craue forgiuenes of God; who shall forgiue him his sins? Be mindfull of the feare of God, and bear no anger to thy neighbor. And in the 20. chap. Say not▪ I will requite euill, but [Page 367] wait thou the Lords leasure, The sixt re­medie. and he will deliuer thee. Sixtly, he must eschue all occasions of anger, as Cotis king of Thrace did, to whom, one gaue verie faire and dilicate vessell, but verie easie to be broken. Cotis receiued the present willingly, but he brake the vessels out of hand. And being asked the cause, he said he did it for feare, least he should be angry with some other bodie for breaking them. The seuenth remedie. Seuenthly, He must consider with himselfe the inconueniences that may come of anger, seeing that as Ecclesiasticus saith, Anger and wrath do shorten mens dayes. Valentinian was so angrie at certaine am­bassadours, which brought him newes that misliked him, that he brake a veine within his bodie, whence the bloud issued so abundantly out at his mouth, that he was immediatly choked with it. Gaston earle of Fois had but one onely sonne, against whom he was so outragiously fumish, that the poore child died of it; whereof the father repented him afterward at ley­sure, as Froyssard reporteth at large in his hystorie. Of man­slaughter. As for man­slaughters, the most part of them come of choler. Now to as­sure vs that manslaughter is detestable afore God, we haue a precept in the ten Commaundements, the which forbiddeth vs to kill. Romulus called all manquelling, Parricide, because the one was villainous and detestable, and the other was not tollerable. Moyses appointed out fiue cities of refuge, for them that had committed manslaughter, so it were by chance and not vpon malice; meaning that such as had their hands defiled with bloud, should not be conuersant among other men. Dauid being welbeloued of God, and an earnest louer of God, would haue builded him a temple; but he was dissua­ded from it by Nathan, who had commaundement from God, to bid him leaue the doing thereof to his sonne Salomon, be­cause his owne hands were defiled with the bloud of his ene­mies. And as he himselfe saith in the fiue and fiftith Psalme, Bloudie men shall not liue out halfe their dayes. Bloudie aud deceitfull men shal not liue out halfe their daies. And we may say generally with Ecclasiasticus, That a man full of anger, kindleth strife and variance among friends, and setteth enmitie among them that were at peace.

[Page 368]Of anger come iniuries, discords, disagreements, and often­times the vtter ouerthrowes of cities, Anger causeth the ouerthrow of cities. whereof princes repent them afterward, or at leastwise are blamed for it, as Philip was for Olinthus. And when some maruelled at his power, that he had so soone rased so great a citie: one Agesipolis said, It would behoue Philip to haue a longer time to build vp such another: whereby he meant that it is a far more princely act to build cities, than to ouerthrow them, and to destroy them when they be builded. The same anger doth oftentimes make ma­nie to passe the edge of the sword, euen after the field is woon, yea and sometime euen those that had yeelded themselues to the mercie of the conquerours; which thing Cicero forbid­deth in his Duties. Agesilaus said, He thought it a wonder, that men tooke not those for traitors to God, which do euill to poore folke, that crie for mercie, and beseech them for the honour of God to pardon them; and that they punish them not more grieuously, than the robbers of churches: dee­ming well and wisely, that mens liues are dearer than all the ornaments of temples and churches. The eight remedie. Lastly, let him read hy­stories, and consider the blame that hath lighted vpon irefull persons. I wil not speake of Coriolane and others, who through that onely vice haue defaced great vertues, and misguided their affairs. Nor of Alexander who slue Clitus, wherof ensued repentance by and by, and that so great, that men had much a doo to keepe him from killing himselfe, for the misliking that he had conceiued of his fault. No nor of Clitus himselfe, who procured his owne death by his impatiencie and choler. A prince is pacified with patience. For a prince (saith Salomon) is pacified by patience, & a mild speech breaketh all hardnesse. A mild toung breaketh all hardnesse. But I will speake of Augustus, whom we haue commended for his mildnes. For we must needs con­fesse, that it was disgraced by these two deeds of his. The one was, that with his owne hands, he put out the eies of one [...] was accused vnto him of treason: and the other was, that [...] vsed most shamefull outrage, towards one that had com [...]ted adulterie with his daughter. But when the yong man had shewed him the law, that he himselfe had made for adulterie, [Page 369] and was contented to be punished according to the law, if he had offended. Augustus was so grieued therat, that notwith­standing that he had iust cause of punishing him, yet he ate no meat that day. And he moderated his choler so wel afterward, that he did not any deed vnbeseeming himselfe. The chole [...]ik­nes of Marius and Syll [...]. Plutarch spea­king of Marius, saith that his cholericknes, ambition, and coue­tousnes, did driue him like a mightie wind, into a bloodie, cru­ell and vnkind old age. The same Plutarch in the life of Sylla, saith, That Sylla suffred himself to be caried away with choler without aduisement, without setting any other consideration before his eies, than only the reuenge of his enemies, without making any account of his friends and kins-folke, and without any touch of mercie and compassion: and his furie was so firy, that he put no difference between such as had offended him, and such as had done nothing. If these examples suffice not, let him consider that a man ought to be more tractable than a lion. Now the lion how fierce so euer he bee, is made gentle and tame by art, which surmounteth his nature. And shall not man which by nature is meeld, take paine to tame the beast that lodgeth within him? he ouercommeth the nature of beasts, A man may command anger seeing it harbereth within him. and yet for all that he cannot ouercome himselfe. And as S. Iohn Chrysostome saith vpon the first of Mathew, If I char­ged you to appease another man; you might answer me that you haue not other mens wils in your hand: but I speak to you of anger, which is your owne beast, and lion, whom you may command. Anger impai­reth the health both of bodie and soule. And if by cunning and good means ye can make a li­on a man; how hapneth it that through your negligence, you suffer your selues of men to become lions? For there is no lion that doth more mischiefe, than anger; as the which not onely hurteth the bodie, but also marreth and impaireth the health of the soule, weakening her strength, and making her vnweel­dy to all things. And a man must not excuse his cholericknes by this common saying, That the first motions are not in mans power, and therefore it is hard to resist anger. For if it haue an earnest desire to any thing, it will boldly aduenture to ob­taine it with losse of a mans owne blood, and with the perill of [Page 368] [...] [Page 369] [...] [Page 370] his life. Reason stai­eth the first brunts. For the mouings therof are staied by the stepping in of reason. And to excuse any euill that is happened through anger, it is like as if a man should excuse himselfe of the giuing of a blow, by saying it was not he that did it, but his hand. As little also ought we to excuse our selues, by that, that we were not the beginners of the quarell, for it is as if a man should ex­cuse himselfe of a murder, by saying that he was not the man that gaue him the first deadly wound. For as saith Chrisostome in his xxxj Homily, He that taketh not example by another mans offence, is more to be punished than the other; like as he is that seeing another man drunken, becommeth drunken af­ter him. Solon in his lawes forbad men to wrong any body, by outrageous words in the time of diuine seruice, in place of iu­stice, and in places of open assembly, vnder paine of three drams to be paid to him that was wronged, and of two to the common-weal: deeming it a point of ouergreat licentiousnes, not to be able to bridle mens choler in any such place.

CHAP. I. ¶ Of Leagues.

AS Pyrrhus king of Epyrots was at a so­lemne feast, one asked him, whether of the Flute-players, Pithon or Cephe­sias was the best? to whom he answe­swered, That in his opinion Polyper­chon was the best captaine; as who would say, That that was the onely thing whereof a prince should en­quire and learne to know. For to say the truth, the verie office of a prince, is to deale with war-matters, and to make himselfe a good captaine, that he may know how to defend himselfe, & to assail his enemies when time serues, The prince that is valiant is esteemed and had in feare. which is the thing that setteth his subiects most in peace. For the prince that is vali­ant and practised in fears of armes, is commended, feared and redoubted of his neighbors. Contrariwise, the coward, and he that despiseth the art of warre, and hath not weapon in hand, is subiect to the contempt of his neighbours, and to endure warre whether he will or no. Wherefore as a prince ought to haue great vnderstanding in matters of gouernment, so ought he not to be ignorant what belongeth to warre. And as his dutie consisteth, The art of war vpholdeth the cōmon-weale. first in the well-ordering of the common-weale: so is it also necessarie for him to haue skill [Page 372] of martiall affairs, to maintaine the common-weale. Now as touching the art of warre, I find not a better booke or a better scholemaister thereof, than experience; though enow haue written thereof. For it is learned more by practise than by spe­culation, and it belongeth not vnto any other to treat thereof, than to such as haue spent some part of their life in the wars. And if any man of my calling would treat thereof, it might be said vnto him that he plaid the foole, as Hanniball said to Phormio. But to treat of policies and sleights of warre practised by captaines, is not a dealing with the Art of warre, otherwise than by accident, and after the maner of Historiographers, who forget them not in their histories; but in bringing againe of the histories to remembrance which make mention of them, according to my fore determined purpose, which was to shew how noble princes haue demeaned themselues, both in peace and warre, and to deliuer as in euidence, their quicke sayings and politike stratagems. Of the one I hope I haue in some sort discharged my selfe in my former two bookes: and now in this, I will treat a little of the feats of war, and of some policies found in histories for the instruction of princes, to the end that among the notable things which I haue inserted here out of diuerse histories where they were dispersed; this which is the principall point, may not tary behind vntouched, leauing the larger discouery therof, to such as deale with arms. Wher­in if I keepe some order and fashion of precepts, it is but to treat of those things in some method, which are dispersed in the histories; and not to giue any certaine iudgment▪ what is to be done in that behalfe. For I hope that when the matter is once set downe, a prince may vpon this discourse, chuse what he thinketh good, as bees do vpon flowers. I know that the most part of the stratagemes that were found good in time past, are now out of vse, and that as Cambyses said vnto Cyrus, like as in musick the newest songs & such as were neuer heard afore, do like men best: so in warre, the policies that haue not earst ben practised, haue best successe, because the enemie doth least suspect them. But we may also say, that many [Page 373] times old songs are renewed and song for new: and likewise in warre, Nothing is done, which had not ben [...]. old policies may be renewed, and taken for new. For there is not any thing done, which hath not ben done afore. By means wherof I haue gathered and compacted together, a part of the old policies of time past, to the intent that among many, the prince may chuse that which he shall find best, or at leastwise not be ignorant to keepe himselfe from them. For the knowledge of the policies of times past, together with those which he hath seene by experience, wil giue him a great iudg­ment in the feat of war, and will make him to call to mind a­gaine, and bethinke him of the things that he hath seene at o­ther times. Wherfore to keepe the order that I began with, it is to be vnderstood, that to raigne happily and to maintaine himselfe and his subiects in peace and tranquility; it is not i­nough for a prince to stablish good laws and ordinances, if he do not likewise set good order for matters of war, which may light vpon his armie whether he will or no; and sometime the wrong that shall be offered him, shall compell him to warre vpon his neighbour. So that it is hard for a prince to raigne long without some warre, either in assailing or in defending, whereof it commeth to passe that he increaseth and dimini­sheth his state and reputation, according to his fortunate or vnfortunate successe. And to make himselfe the stronger he maketh leagues with his freinds and allies; or else his ene­mie preuenteth him, who hauing made an offensiue league with his associats, commeth with great power to enter into his countrie. For the which a prince must prouide afore hand, as it shall be easie for him to doe in time, if he haue strength, howbeit that it be a terrible thing to see so many nations a­gainst him alone. In ma [...]ters of [...] hours [...]. Neuerthelesse we haue seene almost continually, that he which hath stood vpon his defence, hath had the skill to vntwist such knots well inough. And the rea­son is, [...]or that the princes or common-weales that are neigh­bours, do neuer yeeld mutuall loue one to another, and that which they do, is for their owne peculiar profit, fearing no­thing so much as the aduauncement of [...]. By [Page 374] reason wherof such leagues are easie to be broken, by a prince that hath courage, and some small meane to prolong time, and a little skill to sway with the time. The way to disi [...]ine leagues. Wherfore when a prince is assailed by a puisāt army, he must oppose another against him, he must furnish well his holds, and he must incampe himselfe in a place of such aduantage, as his enemie may not be so bold as to aduenture vpon him. And in the meane while, he must at­tempt by all means to disioine the whole league, or at leastwise to get some one out of the league, which is so easie a thing to be done, that as many as haue bent themselues vnto it, haue al­most neuer failed. King Lois the eleuenth was very excellent in this feat. Euery man knows how he accorded with the coun­tie of Charolois at Constans; so that when he was once taken out of the play, it was of necessitie, that the dukes of Berry and Bretaine should be comprised in the accord, because they were not of sufficient power to encounter the king of France, with­out the helpe of the Burgonions. Another time, hauing to doe with two mightie neighbours, the king of England and the duke of Burgoine, when he saw that the duke of Burgoine was not yet knit to the king of England; he made peace with the king of England, so as hee had no mo to deale with, but the duke of Burgoine. King Francis the first was assailed by the em­perour, and by the king of England in the yeare 1544. By rea­son whereof he opposed against the emperour a strong host, and against the king of England towns well fortified. And in the mean while he found means to agree with the emperour, without calling the king of England therto; and by that means it was the easier for him to agree with the Englishmen after­ward. The emperor was sore combred, in hauing to deale with two mightie armies at once, to wit king Henrie the second, and the Protestants. By reason whereof he aduised himselfe to graunt the Protestants their demands, that he might after­ward bend himselfe vpō the king. Which thing maketh me to thinke, that in leagues there is somewhat to be feared, and that there is danger in entring into them, the which it stan­deth a prince greatly on hand to prouide for. But it is not hard [Page 375] to vndo them, because the leguers looke more to their owne peculiar profit, Leaguers re­spect their owne peculiar profit. than to the common profit of them all; and the societie which all of them do make, is lion-like, as they terme it; for euerie of them respecteth his owne peculiar profit. And if ye set that aside, by and by all is laid a water. But if there befall too happie successe to any one that is in league, and the prince see that fortune smileth vpon his companion: he must not by and by giue him ouer there, and make league against him, Leagues bro­ken by diuers means. as the Pope, and the duke of Millan, and all Ita­lie did for king Francis the first, vpon his taking of the empe­rour Charles prisoner, with whom they had bene lincked in league afore against the king. The Leontines, and Rhegines, hauing entered into armes against the Syracusanes, made a league with the Athenians, by whose ayd they maintained the warre along time. But in the end, when they vnderstood by the report that Hermocrates made vnto all the Sicilians in generall, that all that the Athenians did, was to make them­selues lords of Sicilie: they gaue ouer the league, and made peace among themselues. The drawing backe of one leaguer, disap­pointeth the whole le [...]gue. Moreouer, in most of these leagues there is alwayes some one that draweth backward, and com­meth lagging behind, as the emperour Maximilian did, when he was allied with king Lois the twelfth, against the Veneti­ans. For king Lois was in the field at the day appointed, and had spoyled the Venetians of the places that should haue faln to his share by agreemēt of the league, afore the emperor was entered into Italie. And this slacknesse of his saued the citie Padoa, and a good part of the state of Venice. And had the Venetians beene warriers and well prouided, they had put king Lois to a plunge. For they had as then no mo but him to deale with, so that his league did him small ser­uice. The duke of Burgoine should haue ioyned with the king of England, to inuade the countrie of king Lois the e­leuenth; but he lingred so long at the siege of Nuis, that the king of England was faine to returne and make peace, as I haue said alreadie. The league of the Spanish king and the Venetians against the Turke, turned by and by into [Page 376] smoke by reason of distrust that rose betwixt them, notwith­standing that the Turke was ouercome vpon the sea by the confederats at Lepanto. Many times did the Italians and Spaniards, ioyntly conspire to driue the Frenchmen out of Italie. But one while the Spaniards departed from the confe­deracie, another while the Pope shrunke backe, and another while the Venetians fell in with vs, which was a cause that we held our footing stil, notwithstanding their leagues. These ex­amples with a hundred others which I leaue for briefnesse sake, may warne vs, that a puissant and well aduised prince, shall neuer want means to disseuer such as confederat them­selues against him.

CHAP. II. Of Gouernors sent into the frontiers of countries, and whether they should be changed, or suffered to con­tinue still.

WHen a prince hath associated himselfe with his friends and neighbors, to defend himselfe or to assaile his enemies; It behoueth him to take order for his frontiers, and to prouide himselfe of a good wise and valiant chieftaine, to lie ordinarilie with a good number of soul­diers, in the prouince that is most subiect to the inuasion of enemies. But here some man might demaund, whether such a Gouernour or chieftaine ought neuer to be chaunged, or whe­ther he ought to be chaunged as the pretors, proconsuls and presidents of prouinces were among the Romans. I haue de­clared in the title of Iustice, that the emperour Alexander Se­uerus chaunged his officers oft, and that Augustus altered not the custome of the Romans, in sending senators into prouin­ces for a certaine time. Aristotle in his bookes of Common­weale- matters, reproued the Candiots, for suffering one of [Page 377] their magistrats whom they called Consuls, to be perpetuall, whereas they should haue beene shifted from time to time. And it is not to be doubted, but that that maner of dealing was verie behooffull in a Common-weale, where euerie man lookes to beare office of honour, which few should haue en­ioyed, if the charge of gouernment should haue beene tied to one alone, to occupie the place of many good citizens, who could haue discharged the office as well as he. The danger of suffering one gouernor con­tinually in a prouince. And thereof would haue ensued a great inconuenience, namely that an ar­mie being gouerned ouerlong by one citizen, would haue growne partiall in his behalfe, and not haue acknowledged a­ny other for their head, than him vnder whom they had so long serued. Moreouer the Generall or chiefe captaine of an armie, that shall haue continued so long together in office, would become so rich and increased in honour, that he could not find in his heart to liue as meane citizen afterward. Wher­vpon it would follow of necessitie, that the citizens should fall to warre among themselues. That was the cause that Silla and Marius found men at their deuotion, whch durst main­taine their ambition against the welfare of the common­weale. The prorogation of the fiue yeares, which was giuen to Iulius Caesar for the gouerning of the Gauls, and the ouer­great number of offices of honour, that were bestowed vpon Pompey, were the cause of the ruine of Rome. For there was not in his time any goodly enterprise, whereof he was not the executor. And although there was great reason, that the Se­nate should prorogue the consull, Philoes authoritie before Palepolis, and likewise of Lucullus & Metellus, without sending Pompey to be successor to the one, and Marius to be successor to the other: Yet had it beene better for the common-weale, to haue forborne that gaine, and to haue left the warre vnfini­shed, than to haue suffered the seed of tyrannie to grow vp, to the ouerthrow of the publike-weale. And I maruell not that Epamin [...]ndas was put to his necke-verse, for executing the Pretorship, contrarie to the law, but onely three mo­neths beyond his appointed tearme, though in that while he [Page 376] [...] [Page 377] [...] [Page 378] finished the war that had bin begun, and deliuered the The­bans from bondage. For as on the one side, the greatnesse of the benefit encountered the law: so on the other side, there was as an apparant breach of the law, which might procure great preiudice in time to come. Too great a mightinesse is daungerous in a cōmonweale Now in a free citie, this ouer­great mightines is to be feared: and therefore it is no wonder though Publicola was in good time redoubted of the Romans, and compelled to shew that he ment to make himselfe equall with the meanest. And in mine opinion, the Ostracisme of A­thens, which afterward was mocked at for banishing a fellow that was nought worth, was not without great reason. For had not the excellent citizens beene brideled by exile, they would at length haue growne so proud, that they would haue made themselues kings and maisters of the citie, as Pericles might well haue done, if he had beene of an ambitious mind, and as others did afterward that were meaner than he. And therefore I make no doubt of it, but that in common-weals there ought to be no such thing. In monarchies needeth no chaunge of gouernors. But in Monarchies where one alone commaundeth, it is better to set a gouernor or vice­roy, that shall continue there all his life. After that maner haue our kings done in Piemont with happie successe. But if the people of the prouinces make any complaints of the coue­tousnesse of their Gouernour, or of his extortion and great crueltie, or if the prince doubt of his loyaltie, in such cases the prince must reuoke him, and send a new in his roome. Consaluo was called home from Naples by the king of Aragon, who was so iealous of him, that he feared least he should abuse his authoritie, and defeat him of the realme. But if a Gouernour be not too full of vice, it is much better that he continue still. For he shall learne how to behaue himselfe towards the men of his prouince, by acquainting himselfe long time with their humors. And for his knowledge of the countrie, he shall do goodlier exploits than a new lieutenant could do: besids that he shall be more loued and regarded of the Souldiers, with whom he shall haue spent his yong yeares.

CHAP. III. Of a Lieutenant-generall, and that there behoueth no mo but one to commaund an armie.

FOrasmuch as a prince cannot be alway with his armie, it behoueth him to choose some excellent captaine, to haue the commaun­ding thereof. Now it may be demanded, whether it were better to appoint two or three to that charge, or to be contented with one, for if one alone haue the execution of that charge, no man shall controll him, whereas mo doing their dutie well, may do more faithfull and trustie seruice, by striuing who shall do best. And this maner did the Athenians vse, who for a time held the dominion of the Easterne seas; and so did the Romans who subdued the whole world. The A­thenians in their warres of Sicilie (which were of great im­portance) sent thither Niceas and Alcibiades. And ordinarilie they had two at the least, and sometimes ten together that commaunded. The Romans most commonly sent the two consuls to the warres, who ruled the armie with equall power. But they that did so, found not themselues euer best at ease, We haue an example therof in three Tribnnes of Rome sent to Fidene with authoritie of consuls, It is not good to haue many commaunders in an armie. who through their disa­greement & mistaking one anorher, were like to haue brought the Roman host to ruine. Also they vsed but light wars. For in times of danger they made a Dictator, that one might abso­lutely command alone: being of opinion that one alone might better gouerne an armie than many could, because it is hard to find two or three excellent captains in a whole countrie: as Philip of Macedonie said, He maruelled how the Athenians could euery yeare appoint ten captains to commaund their ar­mie, whereas he could find but one in all his realme.

[Page 380]And in good sooth, had the captaines whom the Atheni­ans appointed, bene no wiser than they that appointed them, their common-weale had smarted for it. In a certaine dange­rous warre, they had appointed many companions to Miltia­des, among whom was Aristides, who as wise as he was, yelded vnto Miltiades the authoritie of commanding; the which thing the rest of his companions did likewise, being constrai­ned to do it by his exāple, which was the cause that al things went well. It is hard for two generals to agree in one armie. He did as much to Themistocles his enemie, where­by the Athenians receiued maruellous profit. For ye shall ne­uer find two men of one selfe-same humor. And if it were so; yet the one is so thrust forward with ambition, enuie, and iea­lousie against his fellow, that they faile not to marre all. If Ni­ceas and Alcibiades had beene neuer so long togither, they would neuer haue agreed. For the one was too slow, and the o­ther too quicke, after the same maner that Fabius and Minu­cius, Paulus Aemilius and Varro were: for if the one did well one day, the other mard all the next day, the harme whereof the Romans felt a long time after.

In our ciuill warres we had two princes in our armies, of whom the one tooke vpon him to commaund, and the other would giue no place to him. And in hope to content them both, vnto the one was committed the vauntgard with the tokens of battell; and vnto the other was committed the bat­tell, rather in name that in effect: whereat the other disdai­ning, was a cause that a good part of the armie was broken. Therefore the best is to haue but one generall. And we must not here take example at common-weales: for their vphol­ding of themselues is dearer vnto them, than the ouerthrow­ing of their enemies. And because the ouergreat mightines of a citizen is daungerous to their state, they had rather faile in the other point, than to giue too great authoritie to one alone, for feare least he should fall to vsurping, or that his greatnesse should cause some sedition in the citie. But a king, who cannot be deposed by any one alone, how excellent and valiant a captain so euer he be, is neuer in that doubt, nor in the distrust [Page 381] wherein common-weals are. And therefore he ought not, but vpon some necessitie, There must be no equals to the generall in an armie. to commit the charge of his armie to any mo than one. Aso he must beware, that with his gouer­nor he send not other captains, that esteeme themselues as great or greater than the generall. For that were the way to set all out of order. Olympius thought she did well, in sending the Siluershields to the succor of Eumenes, but she mard all by it: for their captains made so great account of themselues, that they would not obey him, no nor scarcely accept him for their companion. By reason wherof they betraid him, and deli­uered him to his enemie. The ruine of the common-weale of Rome, came of two citizens well neere of equall power, of whom the one would abide none greater than himselfe, and the other would haue no peere. And because either of them was of great credit with the Senate, they set the whole citie togither by the eares But the king who carieth his coūsel with him, and hath neither tribunes not consuls, disposeth of his state at his owne will, and no man dareth intermeddle with the gouernment, further-forth than is to his liking.

CHAP. IIII. Whether the chiefe of an armie should be gentle or rigorous.

HEre is offered a question which is no small one, that is to wit, Whether the chief of an armie, be he prince, king, or lieutenant to a king, ought to vse ri­gor rather than gentlenes, as well towards his soul­diers, as also towards the countrie which he intendeth to con­quer? For there haue beene, which by their rigor haue beene obeied & reuerenced, both of their souldiers and of the coun­trie where they warred, and by that means haue compassed their affairs verie well. And othersome haue gotten so great good will by their gentlenesse, that they haue woon more by [Page 382] their courtesie, than the others haue done by their crueltie. They that preferre gentlenes, For gentlenes and courtesie. alledge Pericles, who was very mild and patient, and was wont to say, That there should ne­uer be any cause, why any man should were a black gowne by his means. Yet notwithstanding as gentle and patient as he was, he gouerned that insolent people without any rebellion, speci­ally at the beginning of the wars of Peloponnesus, where the people of Athens saw their goods spoiled from out of their windowes; whom notwithstanding their eager desire to go out against the Lacedemonians, he kept still at home by his gentle and honourable persuasions. Xenophon maketh Cyrus gentle, courteous, familiar, and void of all pride, roughnes, and crueltie. Scipio was meeld and gentle to his men of warre, and vsed his enemies with so great courtesie, that he woon the hearts of the Spaniards by such means, & ouercame them ra­ther with honorable dealing than with force. Plutarch saith as much of Lucullus. Infinit other examples may we alledge; of such as haue ben obaied by their men of war, and ben loued of all their countries. For rigor and crueltie. On the contrarie part, we haue some that haue kept their people in order by austeritie, as Manlius Tor­quatus and many others. Hanniball was cruell and stoure, as well to his men of warre as to his enemies. And yet had he an armie of sundrie sorts of strangers, all obedient and well orde­red; and besides that he drue to his side many of the allies of the Romans. And they that hold this opinion, haue for their ground a sure and vndoubted reason, namely, that nothing hol­deth men in awe so much as feare, and that he which is drea­ded, is better obaied than he that maks himselfe beloued. Nothing out­weareth, so soone as a good turne. For nothing doth so soone wex stale as a benefit. All men loue and commend him that doth them a pleasure, and such a one is followed of all men, but soone also is he forgotten: whereas he that is feared and had in awe, is neuer forgotten. For euery man bethinketh him of the mischiefe that he shall run into, In gouerning of a multi­tude, punish­ment auai­leth more than pitie. if he faile to do the thing that he is commanded. And this feare is of much greater force than loue. In that respect Corne­lius Tacitus said, That to the gouerning of a multitude, punish­ment auailed more than gentlenes. When Tamerlan came to [Page 383] besiege a citie, the first day he would haue a tent of white, which betokened that he would take all the citie to mercy, & good cōposition. The second day he would haue one of red: which betokened that although they yelded themselues, yet would he put some of thē to death at his discretion. The third day he had a pauilion all blacke, which was as much to say, as that there was no more place for cōpassion, but that he would put al to fire & sword The fear of such cruelty caused al cities to yeeld thēselues at his first cōming, That captaine is to be punished, which holdeth a place vnable to be defen­ded, against an armie roiall. And he could not deuise to haue don so much by frendly dealing, as by that means. Ne­uertheles it is the custom of war to deal hardly with that cap­taine, which defendeth a place not able to be kept, against an army roiall: to the intent it may serue for example to such as would withstand an army, in hope to come to cōposition. For whē they see there is no mercy, they yeeld thēselues afore it come to the canō-shot. Which maner the Romans practised. For had the battel-ram once begun to beat the wals, ther was no great hope of any cōposition. Som time it is needfull to vse crueltie. When Iulius Caesar had lost the battel at Dirrhachiū, as he fled, a litle town did shut their gates against him: wherinto he entring by force, sacked it, to the intent to put others in feare, that were minded to do the like. Caesar was mild & gentle: but his gentlenes could nor procure the opening of the gates to him; & this cruelty of his, was the cause that no mā durst deny him to come in. And as for Scipio, although he was a valiant and fortunat captain & as gracious as could be: yet was he not alway obeied, but had rebellions of of his souldiers against him, so as he was cōpelled to turne his gentlenes into rigor. Machiauel handling this question, is long time balancing of his discouse vpon Quintius, Valerius Coruinus, & Publicola, al which being mild & gentle, were good captains and did many noble feats of arms, were wel obeied of their mē of war, & obtained many faire victories. These he compareth with other valiant captains, Machiauels distinction. that were rough, stowr, & cruel, as Camillus, Appius Claudius, Manlius Torquatus, & others. And in the end he maketh a good distinction, saying, That to men which liue vnder the laws of a publik-weale, the maner of the proceeding of Mālius is cōmendable, because it turneth to the [Page 384] fauour of the publick-weale. For a man can win no partakers which sheweth himself so rough to euery man, and he dischar­geth himselfe of all suspicions of ambition. But in the maner of the proceeding of Valerius and Publicola, there may be some mistrust, because of the friendship and good fauor which he purchased at his souldiers hands, wherby they might worke some euill practises against the liberty of their countrie. But when it commeth to the consideration of a prince, as Xeno­phon painteth vs out a perfect prince vnder the person of Cyrus: the maner of Publicola, Scipio, and such others, is much more al­lowable and dangerlesse. It is good that a prince should haue his army affe­ctionated to him alone. For the prince is to seeke for no more at his subiects and souldiers hands, but obedience and loue. For when a prince is well minded on his owne part, and his armie likewise affection it only towards him, it is conformable to all conditions of his state. But for a priuat person to haue an army at his deuotion, is not conformable to the rest of the parts, whom it standeth on hand to make him liue vnder the lawes, and to obey magistrats. But there remaineth yet one doubt vn­decided, which is whether a lieutenant-generall of an host, Whether a liuetenant ge­neral should be gentle or rigorous. who is neither prince nor king, but is sent by a king to cōmand, ought to be gentle or rigorous. For he cannot be suspected to make his army partiall. And though he had it so, which thing he can not do, he should smally preuaile against his prince. Wherfore in this behalfe, I would hold as well the one as the other, to the obseruation of the lawes. I would be rigorous to the men of war. For there is not so beautifull and profitable a thing to an armie, as the execution of iustice, and the keeping of the law vninfringed. The which if ye once breake in any one man, though he be a very braue and valeant fellow; it must needs be broken in diuers others. But, the discipline of war being well kept and obserued, The generall ought to be familiar in behauior and rigorous in discipline. the generall ought to be fa­miliar towards al his souldiers. Alexander was familiar, gentle, and courteous to the common souldiers. Antonie was to them, both gentle and louing. Iulius Caesar was likewise, and so were all the excellent emperours. On the other side, they also were welbeloued, and yet in discipline they were rigorous. I [Page 385] haue told you heretofore in the chapter of Iustice, how the said Iulius Caesar, Augustus, Traian, & certain others winked at small faults, but were rigorous in others, as towards mutiners, traitors, and sleepers in the watch, and such others aforealled­ged. The reason was, that they would not in any wise corrupt the discipline of war, for feare of the mischiefe that might en­sue: and therfore they neuer pardoned the faults of them that infringed it. It is a wonderous thing, that Caesar being but a citi­zen, and hauing his army but of such as serued him of good wil, and being lately afore discomfited at the battell of Durazo, and fleeing before the army of the senat; was notwithstanding not afraid, to punish such as had not done their dutie in the battell; insomuch that whole legions were faine to sue to him for mercie. Which doing, sheweth the good discipline that was in the Roman armies, and the faithfull seruice which they did to their generall, to whom they had giuen their oth. Anon after again, when he gaue battell to Pompey, with what cheer­fulnes did all his souldiers accept it? With what zeale and good will did they beare with their generall? Austerity aba­teth not the loue of men of war. and with what feercenesse did they fight? The which serueth to shew, that seueritie taketh not away the loue of men of war, when they perceiue that otherwise their chieftaine is valeant and wor­thie to rule. For then they impute it not so much to his au­steritie, as to their owne faults. Which ought to be punished according to the law. Tamerlane hanged a souldier of his, for stealing a cheese. This rigour was was very needfull. For else he should haue had no vittels in his campe, which was alway followed with infinit vitellers. And by being so rough tow­ards his souldiers, he got the good will of whole countries, in executing iustice vpon his men of warre according to the law. He was gentle to such as submitted themselues vnto him, but sharpe and cruell to such as resisted him: which was the way to winne much people. And no man withstood him. Wherfore I conclude, that whether it be the prince himselfe, or whether it be his lieutenant; he must not be so gentle to his souldiers, as to beare with all their faults: nor so courteous to [Page 386] the plaine countrie-men, but that he must shew them all some examples of his seuerity, that they may stand in aw of him. But he must reserue his austerity for the wicked and stubborn sort; and he must vse gentlenes, meeldnes, and louingnes, towards his good souldiers and such as hold out their hands to yeeld themselues vnto him, whom he ought to intreat well, not for a day or twaine a some do, but for euer, to the end that the people which are his neighbors, may be allured to do the like, when they find that this his good dealing, proceedeth not of dissimulation, but of the very loue, meeldnes, and good nature of the prince.

CHAP. V. Whether it be better to haue a good army and an euill chieftaine, or a good chieftaine and an euill army.

THe prince that hath to deale with arms, ought to be prouided of two things, namely of valeant and well experien­ced captaines, and of good and well trained souldiers. For little booteth it to haue a good chieftaine, that hath not good men of war; or good men of war that haue not a good captaine to lead them. But the question is, in case that both meet not togi­ther, whether it were better to haue an euill army and a good captaine, or a good armie and a bad captaine. This question seemeth to be doubtles. Notwithstanding forasmuch as Ma­chiauell putteth it in ballance, although he resolue it after the common maner; yet am I to say a word or twaine of it by the way, to confirme it the better. In this discoursing vpon the hi­storie of Titus Liuius, he saith, The valeantnes of the souldiers hath wrought wonders, and that they haue done better after the death of their captaine than afore, as it befell in the armie [Page 387] which the Romans had in Spain vnder the conduct of the Sci­pios, the which hauing lost those two generals, did neuerthe­lesse ouercome their enemies. Moreouer he alleageth Lucul­lus, who being vntrained to the wars himselfe, was made a good captaine by the good peticaptains of the bands that were in his armie. But his reasons are not sufficient, to incoun­ter the opinion of those that vphold, That an army of stags ha­uing a lion to their leader, is much better than an army of li­ons, that haue a stag to their captaine.

And in very deed, The winning of a battel de­p [...]leth vpon the sufficien­cy of the cap­taine. if euer battell, were won, the winning thereof is to be attributed to the captaine. It is well knowen, that so long as the Volses had Coriolane to their captain they had alwaies the vpper hand against the Romans. But as soone as he was dead, they went by the worse.

When the Romans had cowardly captains, they were continually beaten by the Numantines: but when Scipio was once chosen generall, they did so well ouerset their ene­mies, that in the end they rased Numance itselfe. And as I haue said in this discourse, when one vpbraided the Numan­tines, that they suffered themselues to be beaten by those, whom they had so often beaten afore; they answered, That in very deed they were the same sheep, whom they had encoun­tered afore, Some one mā is of great va­lue in an host. but they had another shepherd. This sheweth suf­ficiently, how greatly some one man may auaile in an armie. Antiochus not regarding the multitude of his enemies, asked a captain, How many mē he thought his presence to be worth? making account, that he himself alone should supply the num­ber which the captain desired. Eumenes had not an host so wel trained as his enemies: and yet he guided it in such sort, as he could neuer be ouercome. When Antigonus supposing this Eumenes to haue bin extreamly sick, was purposed not to haue lost the faire occasion of discomfiting his army, as soone as he saw the good gouernance therof, iudged incontinently that it was a good chieftaine that had the ordering thereof. And when he perceiued the horslitter of Eumene [...] a farre off, by and by he caused the retreit to bee sounded, fearing more [Page 388] that which was within the litter, than he feared fiue and twen­tie or thirty thousand men. The bondmen of the Romans had not beaten them so oft, vnlesse it had ben by the good gui­dance of Spartacus. Sertorius had the whole force of Rome a­gainst him, and yet could neuer be ouercome. Epaminondas and Pelopidas did by their good gouernment, traine people that had no skill of warre, and vanquished the greatest warri­ors of all Greece. For it is a hard matter that any army, be it neuer so well practised in wars, should be able to maintaine it selfe against a politick and valeant enemie. The sk [...]lfulnes of a captaine may disorder his enemies battell which want a good chieftaine. I say not but that they may fight valeantly; but the skilfulnes of the captaine of their enemies may be such, as to disorder them by vsing some cunning deuice, the disappointing and preuenting whereof, belongs to the captaine and not to the souldiers. As for that which is alledged of the Scipios, it will not serue. For inasmuch as the battell was well ordered afore, the Romans might well obtaine the victory, though both the consuls were there slain. Likewise, notwithstanding the death of the duke of Burbon, yet was Rome taken by his army, because the souldiers that had aduentured vpon the assault, knew not of the death of their captaine. And the Thebans failed not to get the victory though E [...]aminondas was wounded to death. Againe, the em­perors armie which was sent against the marques of Branden­brough, gat the victorie notwithstanding that duke Moris the generall of the field lost his life there. And as touching that which is said of Lucullus, who had little experience of war; that is very true: Neuerthelesse he behaued himselfe so discretly in the warre wherein he was imploied, that he was nothing beholden to Pompey, which bereft him of the honour of conquering the whole East.

And to shew that he was not led by the aduice of his army, but by his own skill; being at the siege of Tigranocerta, & be­ing counselled by some to raise his siege, and to go meet his e­nemy who was cōming towards him with great forces, and not to stay about the city: he beleeued his own wit, and vndertook a ieoperdous aduenture. For with the one halfe of his armie [Page 389] he went to encounter his enemie, whom he ouercame, and left the other halfe afore the citie, the which he tooke at his returne. Also Plutarch commendeth him highly, for gouer­ning himselfe so well, considering his small experience. I know that an armie without a head, may fight so valeantly as no fault may be found in them; but a very small ouersight may put them out of array. And he [...]unto the saying of Machiauell, That a good army without a captaine, becommeth rebellious and vnweeldy to be delt with, as it befell to the array of Ma­cedonie, after the death of Alexander. Therfore we must con­clude, that as the members haue no function without a head; no more hath an army without a good chieftaine.

CHAP. VI. Of the order which the men of old time did vse in setting their people in batel-ray.

SIth we haue giuen a head to an army, now we must come to the heart, and prouide it of that which is requisit for it within, which is nothing else but the good order that is to be vsed in ranging the men of war in battel-ray. For in this order consisteth the welfare and life of the host. This in mine opinion, should be handled by a man that had followed the wars the most part of his life; the which thing I cannot do for want of experience. Wherfore I leaue this chapter as a blanke paper, to be filled with good and goodly discourses, by some valeant and wel-experienced captaine. I wil but only set down the maner vsed in old time, shewing how they ordered their battels. The Greeks had a great battaile compacted and clo­sed togither of many ranks, which they named a Phalanx. When a souldier of a former ranke happened to be slaine or beaten downe, Of the Pha­lanx. he of the next ranke stept into his place; and he of the third ranke into the place of the second: and so con­sequently [Page 390] al the rest, as the Suissers also do at this day, so as no ranke was disfurnished but only the hindermost; the former were alwaies kept whole and vnbroken, by reason of their great number, so thronged and close couched as they were hard to be opened. And albeit that the Romans were most expert in warre, The policie of Paulus Aemi­l [...]us. yet could they not tell how to haue dis [...]or­ced the Phalanx of Perseus, except Paulus Aemilius had bethought him to chuse a place, where they could not march so linked together. And when he discouered any part of their battell opened, he made some small troope of his men to enter into it, and so by fighting in small companies in places where he perceiued any default, he brake their aray and discomfited them. But the Romans had another order, which might hold thē tack in fight a whole day, after such maner as I wil tel you, presupposing that they deuided their people into many sorts of companies. One was of a Camarada of ten men, the which they termed a Maniple, a word wherby they betokened that which we call a band. And setting aside many degrees like vn­to ours; they had their cohorts, of six hundred men a peece, or there abouts. Then was the legion, which was of six thou­sand footmen, comprehending with it three hundred hors­men, and was compacted of ten cohorts: Wherein were two sorts of armour, the one light, and they that wore those, were named Velites, which serued to skirmish as our harquebusirs, our forlorne hopes, and our light horsmen do now adaies. And they that wore the heauier armour, were called Cataphracti. Now hauing their battell compacted of a legion, The order o [...] the Roman le­gions. or making many battels of euery legion, they ordered them to battell, not in the forme of the Phalangs, to supply the places as they failed from ranke to ranke; but by receiuing one ranke into a­nother, after which manner they would continue the fight stoutly a whole day togither.

And to that end they parted their legion into three maner of men, that is to wit, Pikemen, Principals, & Triaries. The Pikemen being the formost and of least valeancie and experience, Pikemen. fought thicke set, and had many mo men in their [Page 391] battell, than were in the second, which was of the Principals, who were of more practise and experience than the pikemen. For these had their ranks clearer thā the former, [...]he Principals to the intent that if the first battell were foyled, they might retire without disorder within the battell of the Principals, and there begin the fight againe. And if it happened by mischance, that the battell of the Principals was foiled also, which happened not oft, The Triarie. then they were receiued by the Triaries, who had their ranks looser than the Principals, that they might receiue into them the souldiers of the other two battels. Now these Tria­ries were the valiantest and best experienced of all the ar­mie. Therfore by the orderly retyring of the Pikemen and Principals, into the ranks of the Triaries, who were old soul­diers, the fight was maintained more than afore. So then the Pikemen who made the foresront, had their battell well stuffed and furnished with men. The Principals had their battell somewhat thinner, that they might without disorder, receiue into them the former ranks. And the Triaries were twice as thin as they. And after that maner they fought stout­ly, without disorder all the day long. And it may be, that the same order being brought in vse againe, might be found good and profitable.

CHAP. VII. What he ought do which setteth himselfe to defence.

IT behooueth him that is assayled in his owne countrie, to set him­selfe in defence, and to do what hee can, as well to preuent, as to breake the force of his enemie. This is to bee doone diuerse wayes: either by laying afore­hand to stoppe the passages where hee must come; or by suffering him to come into the [Page 392] plaine fields to fight; or by fortifying the townes, and by set­ting of good garrisons in conuenient places, without respect of spoiling and wasting the countrie where he is to passe; or by maintaining an army not to fight with the enemie, but to keep him at the staues end, and to cope with him in a narrow room; and to cut him off from all commodities that he might haue if he were at large, to the intent to comber him, or to make him retire; or else to draw him to some combate to his great disaduantage. As touching the keeping of a passage to stop the enemie, The keeping of a passage. it is misliked by William Bellay in his second book of Warlike discipline, and by Machiauell in his discourse, be­cause that seldome or neuer hath it beene found, that an ene­mie hath been letted to make himselfe free passage, if he had a great armie. The Swissers (as the aforeledged authors wit­nesse) in the yeare 1515, did ceise the common passages of the mountains, to stop king Francis from going downe into Italie. But yet for all that he failed not to passe another way, where­of they no whit doubted: insomuch that he was seene in the plain of Lombardie, afore the Swissers were come down from their rocks. The Spaniards that kept the passage of Suze, not­withstanding that they were many, and had fortified them­selues, were broken neuertheles by the constable of France. The same Spaniards being incamped by the riuer Behamby, and strong inough to stop our armie from passing, did neuer­thelesse abandon the place, when they saw the duke of Guise with launce in hand, and his armie following him, enter into the water to encounter with them. The king of Castile had caused the riuer of Derne to be well garded, and yet the duke of Lancaster and the king of Portugall, found the foord and passed ouer it. No man could stop Hannib [...]l from passing the mountains Pyren, and the Alpes, to come downe into Lum­bardie. Marius encountered the Cimbrians, not in their pas­sage, but on the hitherside of the mountains, afore they had gotten to the passages of the Alpes. And the residue hauing passed the mountains, were met withall in Lumbardie. King Philip of Valois had appointed Godmardu Fa [...] to keepe the [Page 393] passage of Blanche take in the riuer of Some, with a thousand men of armes, besides crossebowes of Genoa, and six thousand men on foot. And yet was he forced from the passage, and the king of England passed with all his host, hauing but six houres to passe them in, which was the time betweene the ebbe and the tide. The Flemings tooke stoutly vpon them, to stop the passage of the Frenchmen ouer the riuer Alis, which was both deepe and maddie; and although it was about the feast of Saint Martin, yet notwithstanding a part of the vauntgard passed about a league from the bridge of Comines, in two or three boats, whereof the greatest carried not aboue nine men at once, who after they were arriued, did hide themselues in an Aldercarre, right ouer against the place where they tooke boat. And when they were all togither, they marched against the▪ Flemmings, and woon the bridge of Comines. When the marshall of Hesse sent the Reisters into Fraunce, by the con­duct of Monsieur D' Andelot; the late earle of Neuers, and the marshall of Saint Andrew, were sent to stop their passage, be­cause the riuers began to swell being in the end of October. Yet for all that, they letted not to passe, euen in the sight of our men, and so they went ouer to Orleance without gainsay­ing. In the yeare 1567. they came againe vnder the leading of Casimire the countie Palatines sonne. To stop whose passage, because it was not meant to hasard a pitcht field, a part of the kings power was sent vnder the leading of the duke of Neuers that now is, who spared not the pioners to make trenches, nor to set lets in places that might bee waded, nor to enterlace trees to stop the passage: and yet all this could not let them, but that they passed at their ease. Afterward the king to stay the meetings of those whom he meant to punish, ceised all the bridges and passages, and set good gards at them: and yet for all that they ceassed not to passe in two places of the riuer Loir, to Bonnie and Rosyers, where the Monsier d' Andelot lea­ding great companies, passed his men both on hors-backe and on foote at a foord, though he had some of them drowned. Charles M [...]rtil [...] waited not for the Sarzins at the passage of [Page 394] Loir, but went to meet them on the further side of the riuer, and gaue them battell neare vnto Towers. Actius taried not for Attila at the straits of the Alpes, but with the helpe of the Frenchmen encountered him in Fraunce. Monsieur d' Au­malle had a faire and great armie vpon the borders of Ger­manie, and there he taried for the duke of Bipount, but he spared not to passe on, and to get the towne and bridge of Charitie. Liuian captaine of the Venetians, had ceised all the wayes that lead to Brent, hoping thereby to keepe backe Cardon captaine of the Spaniards, or else to giue him battell to his disaduauntage. But Cardon found a foord somewhat higher, and passed his armie in silence, afore Liuian had any inckling thereof.

The duke of Saxonie staied with a few men at the riuage of the riuer Elbe, thinking to stop the passage of the Empe­rour Charles the fifth. But he found another shallow, where he passed his armie, to the duke of Saxonies confusion. The mountains of Italie neuer made the Hunnes or Herules a­fraid: for they leauing those high rockes behind them, got the passage of Aquileia, and passed all their people there. Although the Greekes bare themselues in hand, that they could defend the straits of Thermopyle against the Persi­ans; yet could they not quit themselues so well, but that in the end they were inuironed, and the Persians found a path that one Epialtes shewed vnto them, whereat they passed, and made the Greekes abandon the place which they kept. But Themistocles gaue aduice, The wholsom counsell of Themistocles. neither to gard the enterances of Greece, because he knew it was vnpossible; nor to hold anie fort in the citie of Athens, seeing they were to deale with millions of men: but he chose a place of aduauntage vp­on the sea, to encounter the Persians to his aduauntage, who were nothing neere so expert in sea-matters as the Athenians were. And whereas they should haue encountered at the pas­sage, Machiauel is of opinion, A passage is not to be kept but with great forces. that they should haue encoun­tered there with all their forces. For it is hard to keepe a pas­sage against a puissant armie, without great force. And if an ar­mie [Page 395] happen to be defeated at the passage which they take to keepe, it is an vtter discouragement to the whole countrie; as it be [...]ell at the comming of king Francis into Italie. For as soone as the cities of Lumbardie which had put their trust in the Swissers, saw the French armie, they were so wholy discoura­ged, that they wist not to what Saint to vow themselues, ne could take any other counsell of themselues than to yeeld to the Frenchmen. Of the plā [...]ing of garrisons in cities. As touching the fortifying of a citie, and the planting of a garrison there, Pericles vsed that fashion against the Lacedemonians. For albeit that they had burned all the territorie of Athens, yet would he not suffer one man to go out to skirmish with them, but thought it better to keepe still his forces than to hazard them, because he knew well he was not of strength to match them. An armie to pursue the e­nemie with­out giuing him battell. Another maner of defending, is, to haue an armie, not of purpose to encounter, but to wearie the enemie, as Fabius had against Hannibal; as king Francis and vnder the conduct of the Constable in Auig­nion against the Emperour Charles the fifth; as the duke of Alua had at Naples against the duke of Guise; and as the same duke had in Flaunders against the prince of Orenge. And this maner of encountering is most sure, and least daungerous, so it be not in way of defence, as I will shew anon. For in case of assailing, a man must alwaies be resolute to encounter, and thinke that great enterprises are not without some hazard. The fault of Niceas. In which behalfe Niceas did greatly amisse: For hauing a great power in Sicilie, hee did nothing but turne to and fro, and lose his time in consulting, so long till the cou­rage and hope of his people were quite quailed. On the con­trarie part, the feare which his enemies had conceiued at the first brunt, when they saw so great a power, by little and little vanished away. And he was to blame, for that by too long lingring, vpon desire to do his things too surely, he let slip the occasions of doing manie good and [...]aite exploits, not­withstanding that he vndertooke them well, and executed them with speed: but he was slow in resoluing, and cowardly in aduenturing.

[Page 396] An army to bid the enemy battell.The fourth maner of defending, is to haue an armie rea­die within the countrie, and there to wait to giue him bat­tell, as Thomyris did against Cyrus. For she tarried for him with a quiet foot, and her Massagets about her within her countrie of Scythia. And as Basiil duke of Moscouia did, who did the like on the further side of the deepe and swift riuer Boristhenes. But therein he did amisse, for that where­as by encountering with Constantine the chieftaine of the Po­lonians as he was passing the riuer, he might haue made the victorie certaine: by his fighting with him in the plain field, without aduauntage, he lost the battell. And so did the Ae­tolians against the Romans, for want of prohibiting them the passage of Naupact. So did the Venetians vnder the conduct of Lalmian at the riuer Dade, against king Lewis the twelfth. So did the viceroy of Naples, and Prosper Columna, against the Frenchmen. And so haue many others done, who verie sel­dome haue found good speed. For the courage and lustinesse of a conqueror, must be broken by taking him at some aduan­tage, as when he is incountered at some passage, afore he haue set his men in aray, or haue passed them all ouer: or by delay­ing and driuing off the time, if he cannot be stopped other­wise. But if necessitie require, then must he be fought withall, as Themistocles did vnto Xerxes, Hanniball vnto Scipio, and Charles Martell vnto the Sarzins.

CHAP. VIII. Whether it be better to driue off the time in ones owne countrie, or to giue battell out of hand.

The fortune of a batell is not to be ha­zarded, vnles some great aduantage be offered. IOhn Iaques of Trivulce marshall of France, said, That a prince must neuer attempt the fortune of a battell, except he be allured by some great aduan­tage, or compelled by some vrgent necessitie. It is to grosse a kind of play, to hazard a battell when a man stands [Page 397] vpon his gard. Gasely one of the great captains of Egypt, said, That the warres of greatest importance, which at the begin­ning haue vehement and sodaine swayes, are woont to as­swage of themselues by intermission and space of delay: A prince can not aduenture a battell in his owne country without great daunger. and that on the contrarie part, man cannot assay a battell in his owne countrie without great daunger, because there is no way to amend a fault that is done in battel. For if the battell be lost, the countrie is in great perill to be lost too, as befell to the Ro­mans at the battell of Cannas against Hanniball. To Campson and Tomombey against Selim; and vnto the last king of Hunga­rie, who chose rather to bid the Turke battel, than to winne time of him: for he lost both his life and his kingdome. Xerxes by loosing the battell against the Greeks, lost but his men, because he was the assailant. But Darius by giuing battell in his owne countrie, lost his whole kingdome. And to say the truth, it was to grosse a kind of play, against one that had so small a rest. And he shewed himselfe too negligent in his own defence, and too hastie in bidding battell. Too negligent, in that he being so great a lord, and hauing wherewith to set out a million of men, he tooke not order to haue three armies in a readinesse, one to enter into the countrie of Greece, therby to turne their forces backe againe; another to watch at the passage into his owne countrie, and the third to be about him in his realme, to gather vp those againe togither, which had not beene able to defend the passage, and to haue encamped himselfe in a sure place of aduauntage, to follow the taile of Alexanders host, as Fabius did the host of Hannibal, that he might not be compelled to come to a battell. But in stead of bethinking him what he had to do (as commonly they do which vpon an ouerweening of their owne greatnes, do de­spise their enemies) he let Alexander come in so farre, that it gaue him courage to trie his fortune. And when Darius saw him well forward in his countrie, he made verie great hast, with an in [...]init number of men, to find the new conquerour, and he was sore afraid least he should scape his hands and re­turne without battell. But Alexander eased him well of [Page 398] that feare, for he came to meet Darius in the face, and with a well ordered armie gaue him battell, and discomfited him. Wherin Darius did greatly amisse, for he might haue held him play with his great number of men, & haue wearied him with some of his light horsemen (as the Parthians could well skill to do afterward to the Romans) without hazarding the substance of his armie. The despising of their ene­mies, is the o­uerthrow of great princes. And the thing that vndid him, was his ouerweening opinion that he should ouercome Alexan­der with ease, which is the thing that ouerthroweth all such as vpon disdain to their enemies, do set no good order in their affairs, and in the leading of their armies. This dispising of ene­mies caused the losse of the battell at Poyctiers, where king Iohn was taken prisoner. And of the battell of the Moscouits at the riuer Boristhenes, which also did put the citie of Se­moleuch in daunger of taking, if the winter comming on, had not foreclosed the Polonians from besieging it. Caesar being in penurie of all things, went to seeke Pompey, with intent to giue him battell. Pompey being wise, would not tarie for him there, because he was sure that ere long he should haue him by famin. Neuerthelesse being ouercome with the suit of his captaines that desired battell, vpon trust of their power which without all comparison was [...]arre greater than Caesars, he gaue him battell and lost it, by putting the assured victorie togither with the time, in hazard of a battell, to the ruine of the Senate, and of the whole common-weale: Now then, it is a great fault to put that in hazard at one houre, which is sure, They that ha­zard thēselues vpon neces­sitie, haue cō ­monly good successe. in tarying the time. And they that haue so hazarded themselues, haue commonly beene vndone. Contrariwise, they that haue hazarded thēselues vpon necessitie, haue had the vpper hand. The Spaniards being entred a good way into the lands of the Venetians with a power well armed, were so­dainly abashed, to see a mightie armie readie at hand; and to auoid the daunger wherein they saw themselues, they fled before the host of the Venetians, and took the way to Trent, but yet in order of battell, howbeit with small hope to escape them.

[Page 399]But Lalnian and Loridam, suffering not the faire occasion that was offered them, to slip away, did thrust themselues forward in such headlong hast, that the viceroy of Naples, and Prosper Colonne, chose rather to trie the vncertaine chance of battell, than to trust to the small hope of sauing themselues by flight; and so standing resolute vpon that point, they caried away the victorie. The duke of Guelders finding a great power of the Brabanders comming vpon him, was sore asto­nied, for he saw that he must either fight thirtie to one, or else shut vp himselfe in a citie. To shut vp himselfe he was loth, and therefore fully resoluing himselfe to abide the battell, he fell to giuing charge vpon his enemies vnprouided, who be­ing taken with a lunatike feare, fled away without striking a stroke. Stillico went and charged suddenly vpon the Gothes, as they were going into Gallia. At the first they were asto­nished at the sudden and vnprouided onset: but at length, resoluing to abide the battel, they not onely ouercame him, but also returned into Italie by the countrie of Genes. When Manfride gaue battell to the duke of Aniou, A notable fault of Man­fred. the duke of Anious armie began to want food, as well for the men, as for their horses. And in driuing off the time a while longer, and in tarying for his men that were dispersed in diuerse places of his realme, he had both made himselfe the stronger, and al­so brought his enemie to extreme necessitie. But in chu­sing rather to set vpon his enemies while they were wearie, and ill at ease of the long iourney that they had made; he found by experience that nothing is vnpossible to a conque­rour: for he lost the battell and died. Carafa the countie of Mathalon, would not beleeue the counsell of them that would haue had him to follow the French-men that drew toward Salerne, and to haue cut off their vittails without figh­ting with them, vnlesse they could take them in some place of aduauntage; or to get betweene Salerne and their campe, to keep them frō entring into the town, & to make them returne into the Basilicat, because they wāted both vittels & artillery. But of a brauerie he would needs giue them battell, because [Page 400] they were but few in number: and for his labour he lost the field. For the lord of Perfie attending him with resolution, discomfited him. Had he beene trained in the schoole of king Lewis the eleuenth, he would haue learned, that he which hath the profit of a warre, hath also the honour therof. When Ferdinand king of Naples began to reconquer the realme of Naples, he was so ioyfull of his good fortune, that in a braue­rie he would needs giue battell to the Frenchmen, contrarie to the aduice of a great captaine, who counselled him to hold himselfe close within Seminara, vntill he were more certain­ly aduertised of the intent and power of the Frenchmen; tel­ling him that the counsels which promise suretie in all things, are honourable inough; and that they which by a fond ouer­lustinesse of courage, do hinder the means whereby a matter should come to good issue, are void of honour, shamefull, and miserable. But this good counsell was ouercome by the wor­ser, so that he gaue the Frenchmen battell, who woon the day, to the great confusion of Ferdinand, and of the Arrago­nians.

The Frisons being aduertised of the great preparations, that the countie of Ostreuant made for warre against them, met in counsell to consider what was best for them to do; many gaue counsell to bid him battell at his first arriuall, but Iues Iouire, a man of personage as big as a giant, and wonderfull valiant withall, counselled them to watch the time, and not to ha­zard their forces against strōger than themselues, saying▪ That they had many good ditches and trenches, which would dis­appoint horsmen wherein their enemies ouermatched them, and that their footmen should soone be wearied and tired with the combersomnesse of their iourney, and with the small store of vittails which they should find abrode in the country, so as they might be rid of them for the burning of a dozen villages. Yet notwithstanding they forbare not to giue bat­tell, and lost it. The men of Liege would needs fight with the duke of Burgoins men, who was entred with an armed host into their countrie: and they did it against the counsell of the [Page 401] lord of P [...]erandes, who would haue them to win time of them, and to put their men in garrison. But he could not persuade the common people to do so, and therfore they were all dis­comfited, and left eight and twenty thousand men dead vpon the field. Now must we a little see, how we in France haue sped in that behalfe. King Philip of Valois, gaue battell to the Englishmen in his owne realme at a place called Cressye, and was there ouercome. King Iohn trusting in his own force chose rather to giue the Englishmen battel at Poictiers, than to sub­due them by famin and vnrest: and he [...]or his labour was ta­ken prisoner: but Charles the fift, hauing taken another course, and helping himselfe with the counsell of Fabius, would neuer hazard his state vpon a battell; by means wherof he ouermat­ched the Englishmen, and did so much by his countenances, that he tooke from them almost all Guien euen from vnder their nose, and seazed vpon the towns and cities of the duke of Bretaine. And when any man spake to the king of giuing battell▪ his counsell would say thus vnto him; Sir, let them go, they can neuer get your inheritance for smoke. For when a storme commeth into a countrie, it must in the end needs de­part againe. King Edward was wont to say of him, That neuer any king did lesse put on armour, nor euer any king did worke him more incūberāce: Charles the fift ouermatched the English­men by ta­king opportu­nity of time. for he cōquered Guien without battel. And the king of England with two puissant armies leuied both at one time, could do no more but wast and burne the coun­try, without winning so much as any one citie of account. At the beginning of the wars of Peloponnesus, Pericles chose ra­ther to see the forraying and burning of the territorie of A­thens, than to go out of Athens to hazard a battel; persuading himselfe that the delay of time, would quaile the force of the Lacedemonians. Fabius Maximus ouerthrew Hanniball more by not fighting, than other captains had done by fighting with him. At the first encounter of Trebia, because Sempronius had giuen a foile to the Affricanes, he was so puffed vp with that first skirmish, that he thought al was wonne, and that the want of a little hardinesse, was the onely let that the warre [Page 402] was not brought to a full end, contrarie to the opinion of Scipio his fellowcommissioner. And so he lost the field, Flami­nius being vnmindfull of this losse, would needs do the like, and he also was serued with the same sauce. Minutius striuing to follow their steps, had ben vndone, if Fabius had not ben; as Varro was, who by like headines was the death of fiftie thousand Romans at Canna [...].

A man may say that Marcellus wearied Hanniball in so ma­ny combats, that he feit himselfe discomfited by winning, but yet in the end Marcellus abode by it. And although fortune began to turne her back vpon Hanniball; yet notwithstanding, had not the foresight of Fabius ben, the valeancy of Marcellus had serued the Romans to small purpose. But Hanniball ha­uing two valeant captains vpon him at once, of two diuerse humours, was sore incumbered how to deale with them. For when Marcellus had lost a battell, Fabius was readie at hand to stop Hanniball from passing any further. And in this case, seeing the Romans were able to maintaine two armies, and it stoode them on hand to conquer, or at leastwise to recouer that which they had lost at the iourny of Cannas: they were not misaduised in their counsell, to chuse these two braue captains of so differing humors, to the intent that the continu­all fighting of the one might wearie Hanniball, and the linge­ring of Fabius might ouerthrow him. But this is not easie for all men to do, and specially for thē that haue not their people trained to the wars as the Romans had, who sent them out of Rome as it were by swarms. After whose example, the prince that is able to leuie store of men and well trained, needeth not to be afraid to giue battell, to vncumber himselfe of a noi­some enemie that cannot be driuen away but by fight.

The Romans did so against the Gaules and Germaines, against Pyrrhus, and against Hanniball. So did Charles Martell against the Sarzins, and Philip of Valois against king E [...]ward. But when a prince sees that fortune is against him, then must he alter his manner of dealing, as Charles the fifth did against the Englishmen. For the former victories that they had ob­tained [Page 403] against the Frenchmen, had taught him to seeke the oportunitie of time. For sith the former way auailed him not, it behoued him to try another.

The Gaules were valeant and furious in fight; and ther­fore Cneus Sulpicius did well to protract time with them. Han­niball was inuincible in Italie, and therefore Fabius did wisely in trying another way; and Scipio did boldly and valeantly in making warre in Affricke, to turne him away from Italie. If Manfred had taken the aduauntage of time at Naples, he had done wel: for he had cut the combes of the Fenchmen, who are furious and almost vnpregnable at the first brunt; and had in short time brought Charles to vtter want of vittels and monie. Contrariwise it stood Conradine on hand, to giue battell to Charles duke of Aniou as he did: For he was to reconquer the countrie. And Charles of Aniou being but a new conque­rour, and as yet scarce well assured of his kingdome, was not to haue refused him; There are times that ad­mit no delay. neither did he. For there are times and seasons which permit not delay, but require of necessitie the hazarding of a battel.

In our ciuill warres we haue seene two captains, that haue vsed means cleane contrarie one to another, and yet the purpose and resolution of either of them was commen­dable, and had come afterward to a good end, if it had been ripe.

The duke of Guise a braue and valeant captaine, if euer any were, sought battell by all the means he cou [...]d, and could not away with lingering delaies, the which he did not without great reason. For first he ment to alay the fire which he saw increasing in such sort, as it would be hard to quench, if it were once throughly kindled in all parts. Againe, he feared least the prolonging of time, would increase the contra­ry side, and that many would incline that way, if it were not preuented by destroying the chiefe leaders of that part by a bloody battel. And as for winning therof, he thought himselfe sure of it. For although the contrary party had the choise of the souldiers of the old bands; yet had he not such a number of [Page 404] horsmen as the duke of Guise led, the which alone might be a cause of victorie; for the footmen do nothing without hors­men. Moreouer he had a great number of Suislers, and a good­ly b [...]nd of French harquebuzers, store of ordnance, seeld pee­ces, and whatsoeuer else is requisit in an army roiall; whereas the other side was but an army patched vp, howbeit that there were some good and well practised captains, and valiant souldiers. Contrariwise Monsieur de Tauanes, perceiuing that there behoued many battels to be giuen for the vtter defea­ting of the contrary side, though it be better to delay the time, and that the king should by length of time bereaue them of the countrie that they had conquered, forasmuch as he had sufficient wherewith to hold out the war at length; which abi­litie they had not, who oftentimes wanted monie and men of war to be at commandement of the ring leader, because the most part serued of good will, and could not enforce vs to ha­zard a battell, but to their owne great disaduantage. And if that maner had continued any longer than it did, they had ben brought to a great afterdeale.

CHAP. IX. Whether it be possible for two armies lodged one neere another, to keepe themselues from being inforced to fight whether they will or no.

WE haue seene the profit that commeth of waiting to take the oportunity of time, and of ouermatching the enemy by long delay and protracting of time: but yet there remaineth a doubt concerning the possibilitie thereof, whether it lie in a mans power to refuse to come to battell, when he is neere his enemie, and marcheth side by side with him. They that hold the opinion that a man cannot be enforced to battell, alledge [Page 405] the examples of Cneus Sulpicius against the Gaules, of Fabius Maximus against Hannibal, of Pericles against the Lacedemo­nians, of Charles the fifth against Edward king of England, of the constable of France at Auignion, of the duke of Alua at Naples against the duke of Guise, and of diuers others, who by delay of time brought the enterprises of their enemies to no­thing, and were neuer enforced to come to handstrokes. On the contrarie part, they that haue hazarded a battell in their owne countrie, haue found themselues ill apaid, as Craesus a­gainst Cyrus, Darius against Alexander, Philip of Valois against king Edward, and many others aforealledged, whom we for­beare to speake of to auoid tediousnes. A mighty ene­my may com­pel vs to come to handstroks. But these examples are not able to proue, that a captaine cannot be compelled to fight whether he will or no. For when a conquering enemie commeth strongly into a countrie, he may compell you to come to battell, or else to flee, or else to shut vp your selfe in some citie, which are dishonourable points, and of dangerous consequence. The duke of Saxonie meant to haue wone time of the emperour Charles the fifth after that maner, vpon trust of the great riuer Albis that was betweene the two camps: but the emperour found a foord, the which was shewed him by a miller, whereat he passed some of the troops of his horsmen; and the residue did so much by swimming and by boats, that they got land on the side where their enemies lay. Philip king of Macedonie the father, and Perses his son, encamped them­selues vpon a mountaine, wherunto there was but one onely accesse, very difficult. But the Romans at length caused them to dislodge, and the said Perses, who feared nothing so much as to come to ba [...]tel, was compelled to come to handstrokes. Ye know how the late prince of Condie, trusting to the riuer Cha­rent, came before Newcastle, thinking it vnpossible for vs to haue enforced him to battell, but to our disaduantage: and yet was he driuen therto without any difficulty. An army may be compelled to come to handstroks. And therfore I say with Machiauell in his discourses, that a very small army may well wearie and vexa conqueror, but in the end they shal not keepe themselues from battell, vnlesse they will leaue the [Page 406] field free to their enemies. As for the examples that I haue alledged of Pericles, and of king Charles the fift, they will not serue the turne in this case. For they had no armies, and there­fore were contented to hold themselues close and in couert. For the one knew well inough, that the Lacedemonians were not of power to besiege Athens, nor to do any more than burn the countrie; and the other hauing well prouided his towns, and set good garrisons in euery of them, wist well that the En­glishmen being wont to ouercome the countrie, could do him no harme in wasting it, but were as a flash of lightening that passeth away. For the king of England was not able to main­taine a continual army as the Romans were. But if king Charles had had an armie, he could not haue followed the English­men, but he must haue ben driuen to fight with them some one time or other. And therefore he suffered them to cast their [...]ite, and to trauell a hundred leagues without any profit, during all which time, king Charles spared his men and mony. But they that ma [...]ch neere their enemie, cannot exempt themselues from comming to a battell, would they neuer so faine. Preu [...]ng is to b [...] [...]ght [...], and not by refu­sing t [...] fight. Neue [...]elesse i [...] [...] [...]ue a conuenient nu0mber of men and well trained, they may fight to their aduauntage. Such was the resolution of Fabius, who would not [...]aue refu­sed battell, if he had seene himselfe forced therto, because he knew he should haue the aduantage, as he well shewed in the succour that he gaue to Minutius. For he left the hill­grounds and came downe into the plaines, and the let was in Hanniball that the matter was not tried by battell. But Han­niball thought it better to sound the retreit, than to hazard himselfe against so mighty an enemy, that could not be decei­ued by his slights, as other captains had ben whom he had sought withall. As touching that which the constable did at Auinion, it proued him to be of good discretion. For being vn­able to make head against so mightie an enemy, he was faine to fortifie and strengthen himselfe, in a place where he might not be forced. And in the while that hee staied the empe­rour and quailed the luslines of his army, men came to him [Page 407] from all parts, whereby his owne armie became so increased and strenghned, that it was sufficient to encounter the empe­rours power. And it is not to be doubted, but that if sickenesse had not cast downe the constable, he would haue followed the emperour as Fabius followed Hanniball, encamping him­selfe in places of aduauntage: and in that case, if he had been forced to battel, it would haue bin to his aduantage, and to the emperors los [...]e. As for example; The Spaniards could not ex­empt themselues from encountering a [...] Bicocke, but that was to the Frenchmens losse. As touching the fact of the duke of Alua, holding fast continually this principle, Not to come to battell in his owne country, without necessitie; when he saw that the duke of Guise had not yet taken sooting in the king­dome of Naples, but rather that he was stopped at a litle town which he could not obtain: the protracting of time was needful for him. And if the duke of Guise would haue passed on fur­ther, he should haue wanted vittels, hauing so great an armie attending vpon him at hand to cut them off, & not one towne wherein to make his storehouse. Protracting of time is profi­table, when an armie may lodge at ad­uauntage. So that the duke of Aluaes protracting of time, hauing lodged his camp in a strong & sure place, was profitable to himselfe, and preiudiciall to the duke of Guise, who sought nothing so much as to come to hand strokes, whereby he might haue opened vnto himself a way into the realme of Naples, if he had had the lucke to win the battell: but he could neuer come vnto it. The emperour Charles and the king of France, plaid at the barriers one against another in Picardie and Arthois. For as soone as the one did put off armes, the other entered by and by into his countrie with an armed power. And all the fruit of their salies one a­gainst another in al a whole summer, was but the taking of som litle towne: & so they skirmished one with another at handie strokes. And in this case, although there was a light armie a­gainst the assailant, onely to cumber him, and to cut off vittels from him: yet was it wisely done to shun the combat. For it was well knowne, that the winter would cause the armie to break vp, & there was no need to put any one man in ieopardy.

[Page 408]But when a puissant enemie is in a countrie, whence he in­tendeth not to depart: the prince thereof must oppose against him as strong an armie as his, or at leastwise an armie suffici­ent to encounter his, if he will not lose his estate; and yet not­withstanding to the intent he tempt not fortune, the wisest counsell is to abstaine from encounter. When a man hath the ad­uantage of the ground, he is not to let s [...]p the occa­sion of cōbat. For at length, if he haue not gotten manie townes, ye shall ouermatch him. But yet for all this, a good occasion must not be ouerpassed, nor the win­ning of a battell be refused, which is made sure vnto you by hauing a place of aduauntage, the which is easier for him to chuse that standeth vpon his guard, than for him that is to make the conquest, as you may see by Fabius, who vsed it wise­ly. For although he had an armie well trained; yet would he not without purpose aduenture against another more trained to the wartes, and against so braue a captaine, seeing it was more for his owne profite to make delay, than to fight out of hand. But if his enemie would haue enforced him to forsake his ground, he would haue answered him without refusing the battell, because he could not but be sure to haue woon it, ha­uing a good and strong army, and the aduauntage of the place. Paulus E [...]nilius was determined to haue followed the same counsell, had it not beene [...]or the headines of his fellow. And that maner of dealing, would in the end haue compelled Han­niball to abandon Italie, without stroke striking, and without the hazarding of any one mans life.

CHAP. X. Whether the daunger be greater to fight a battell in a mans owne countrie, or in a straunge countrie.

THis principle being well obserued, not to fight at home, but vpon necessitie, or vpon some good oc­casion of assured victorie offered: it is doubted whether it be more daungerous to loose a battell [Page 409] at home, o [...] in a forrain countrie, Monsieur de Langey in his Dis­cipline of warre, is of opinion that it is lesse daunger for a cap­taine to fight in his owne countrie, (if he be a man of power as the king of Fraunce is) than to fight in a straunge countrie. And hereunto I will adde that which Paulus Iouius saith in his hystorie, Why the So­phie inuaded not the Turks dominion while Selim was in Egypt. where he demaundeth, Why Ismael Sophie king of Persland, did let slip so faire an occasion of inuading the king­dome of Selim emperour of the Turks, at such time as Selim was so sore incombred in Egypt? The reason is, that the king of Persia hath not sufficient power to make warre out of his owne countrie, vpon so mightie a prince as the Turke is, consi­dering that the noble men and gentlemen, in whom cōsisteth a great part of the Persian strength, are loth to go to the wars out of their countrie, because they serue at their owne char­ges. But when the case concerneth the defence of the realme, and that they be to fight in that behalfe, they imploy them­selues wholy thereunto, managing the warre fiercely, and be­hauing themselues valiantly. Also we haue seene how the Parthians afore them, neuer passed so much to conquer out of their owne realme, as to keepe their owne at home, and that they haue discomfited all the armies of the Romans that euer came against them. Neither hath the common saying beene verified of them, That the assailants haue euer more courage than the defendants. For that is not euer true. Besides that, there be means to assure the natural subiects, by shewing them that the quarrell is iust and holy, which men vndertake in de­fence of their countrie, which ought to haue more force than the couetous hope of enriching mens selues by other mens losse. And if it be said, That the assailant bereaueth the prince defendant of the commodities, which he had afore of his sub­iects to helpe himselfe withall; because his subiects are de­stroyed. A man may answer, The losse of goods tur­neth not away the hearts of subiects. That the losse of goods turneth not the hearts and affections of the subiects away from thei [...] prince: but contrariwise, the harme that they rec [...]yue, ma­keth them fiercer against their enemies. Whereas it is alled­ged, That a prince dareth not to leuie mony of his subiects, nor [Page 410] to taxe them at his will, because of the neernesse of the ene­mie, to whom they might yeeld themselues if they were mo­lested by their prince. Monsieur de Langey answereth thereun­to, That that prerogatiue cannot be taken from a priuce, so long as his lands and friends be not taken from him, as appea­reth by the succours which the kings of Fraunce haue had of their subiects against the Englishmen, and against the men of Nauarre. Tyrannie gi­ueth great cause of re­bellion. True it is, that he excludeth tyrannie, saying, That if a prince should misuse his subiects, and outrage them for euery trifle, he might doubt whether he should be well followed & well obeyed of his people or no. And as for that which is said, That the ass [...]ilants being in a strange countrie, do make neces­sitie a vertue, because they be driuē to open the waies by force of armes: The same necessitie lieth also vpon the defendants, whom it standeth on hand to fight stoutly, because they be in daunger to endure many mo things than the assailants. For the raunsome, or the prison, makes their budget good for the assailants; but the defendants lose their goods, and the honor of their wiues and children, and moreouer looke for perpetual bondage, with an infinit number of other mischiefs. Further­more, he that is assailed, may wait vpon his enemies to his great aduauntage, and distresse them with famin without pe­rill of enduring any scarcitie his owne side, and therwithall he may the better withstand the enterprises of his enemies, by reason that he hath better knowledge of the countrie, and of the passages. Besides that, he may assemble great cōpanies of men in few houres, because there is not any subiect of his, that is not readie at need, to fight in his owne defence. And if the defendant do chaunce to take a foile in his owne countrie; he will relieue himselfe againe within few dayes to be at the pursute, and new succours shall not need to come to him from farre. To be short, the defendant needeth to hazard but a peece of his force. The d [...]fend [...]nt may soone repair [...] his power. But if the assailant lose, he putteth hir men and the goods and wel- [...]are of himselfe and his subiects in pe­rill, though he be out of his owne countrie, considering that if he be taken, he must either continue a prisoner all his life [Page 411] time, or else accomplish the will of his conquerour. Yet not­withhanding, for all the good reasons of Monsieur de Langey, a learned and valeant knight, and of great experience in feats of armes; Arguments against Lan­geyes opinion. I will follow the opinion of them that say, That it is better to go fight with a mans enemie farre from home, than to tarrie his comming home to him. Craesus counselled Cyrus, not to tarrie for the Massagets in his owne countrie, but to giue them battell in their owne, because (quoth he) if you should lose one battell in your owne countrie, you should be in daunger (being once chased) to lose your whole countrie; for the Massagets hauing gotten the victorie, will pursue it and enter into your prouinces. And if ye win the battell, you shall not gaine thereby an inch of land. But if ye ouercome them in their owne land, you may follow your good fortune, and be master of the whole realme of Thomiris. This fashion did the Romans vse, who were the most politike and best aduised men in war-matters, that euer were in the world. For they neuer suffered the enemie to approch neare their gates, but encountered him aloofe. Which thing Hanniball knowing well by the proofe that he himselfe had had of their policies and [...]orce, counselled Antiochu [...], not to tarry the comming of the Romans into his country, but to go and assail them in their owne, T [...] Roma [...]s [...] countrie. because that out of their owne countrie they were in­uincible. And in verie deed they were euer assailants, and sel­dome times defendants. At the beginning when their territo­ry was verie small, they went & made war vpon the Fidenats, Crustuminians, Sam [...]ates, Falisks, and other neighbor-people, from whom they alway got the victorie. And whensoeuer they were assailed, it was to their extreme daunger. As for example: When Horatius Cocles sought vpon the bridge of the citie, and sustained the whole force of the enemie, while the bridge was [...]ut asunder behind him, wherwith he fell into the Tiber, and by that means saued the citie. Also they were in extreme daunger against Porsenna and the Volses: and they were faine to employ all their priests, and all the women of the citie, to raise the siege of Coriolanus, who our of all [Page 412] question had made himself master of the towne, if the intrea­tance of his mother had not letted him. The Romans could not vā ­quish Hanni­ball in Italie. It was neuer in their power to ouercome Hannibal in Italie: but out of Italie a yong Roman ouercame him vtterly in one battell. When Pyrrhus came to Tarent, the Romans suffered him not to approch to their gates, but sent to encounter him before he came there. And when they had lost one battell, they renued it again with a fresh supplie, as though it had beene with the water of some continuall running spring. And although this was in Italie, yet was it not in the countrie of the Romans. For they sent so manie men to meet him, that he could neuer come home to them: in so much that Pyrrhus said, That if he should win but one battell more of them, it were inough to worke his own vtter ouerthrow; because he could neuer get any victorie of thē, but with great losse of his people. So soone as the Romans vnderstood that Hannibal was determined to passe the moun­tains, they dispatched an armie out of their countrie, to be in a readinesse at the foot of the hill, either to encounter him, or else to wearie and cumber him by all means possible. And it was seene by experience, that the two or three battels which he woon, stood him in little stead. For he could not for all that, get so much as any one citie into his hands. But when he once came neere to Rome, and had woon the famous bat­tell of Cannas against them in their owne soyle: then hee wanne many cities, and made many people to submit them­selues to his obedience. And there was none other impedi­ment that he tooke not Rome it selfe, but onely the fatall de­stinie of the citie. Such daunger cannot befall a man in a for­reine countrie. As for example, The Romans were vtterlie ouerthrowne by the Parthians, and yet for all that, they nee­ded not to feare the inuading of their citie. They lost manie battels to the Carthagenenses, both on sea and land, and like­wise the Carthagenenses vnto them, and yet neither of them both tooke care for the defence of their citie, but to make a new armie to worke reuenge. But Hannibal saw, that the best way to haue a hand at the Romans, was to seeke thē at their [Page 413] owne doores. And the Romans themselues being schooled by Hannibal, perceiued well that the way to driue the Cartha­genenses out of Italie, and to bring their owne matters to good effect, was to shew their legions before the gates of Carthage, and to bid them battell there, and so they did. Af­ter the winning of the which battell, the Romans became lords of Carthage. Actius liked better to fight with Attila in Fraunce, than to attend his comming into Italie. And Charles Martel thought it better to encounter the Sarzins on the fur­ther side of Loir, An [...]nswer [...]o Bellays first argument. than to wait for them in Fraunce. And no­thing to the purpose maketh the saying of Bellay, That the defendants may be incouraged by the iustnesse and holinesse of their quarrell, in defending themselues, their country, their goods, their wiues, and their children, which ought to haue more force than the couetous desire of the assailants. For say what can be said, yet doth the assailant aduenture vpon his enterprise with the best courage: whereas there abideth a feare and misgiuing in the mind of the defendant, which feare defeateth all chearfulnesse, when euery man considereth the daunger that he is like to fall into by the losse of the battell; so as the mind being daunted with that feare, cannot do any thing of value. We see that townes which haue beene coun­ted inuincible, haue bin taken in short time, through the cou­ragiousnesse of the souldiers, desirous of the bootie within, who fearing neither gun, fire, water, nor steepnesse of place, haue with inuincible courage, disappointed all defences that could be set against them.

And if a man will say, An answer to B [...]l [...]ays second argument. That the losse of townes taketh not away the affection of the subiects, but contrariwise exaspera­teth them against the enemie: I answer, that such affection serueth to verie small purpose, if it be not accompanied with means to maintaine it. For he that sees the burning of his gran­ges, his garners, and his house, hath more list to shed teares than to sight. And if the hatred which he beareth to his ene­mies, bereaue him not of the feare of them, it will serue well to cut the throtes of them that straggle farre from the bodie [Page 414] of the armie, as the people of Prouince did to the dispersed Spaniards; but it can do neither good nor harme to the victo­rie. And whereas it is said, that the king of France had succor of his subiects against the Englishmen within his countrie; An answer to the third argument. that was done for the good will that they bore to their king, that loued them & dealt wel with them, and was not wont to leuie subsedies, but in case of necessitie, the which are leuied nowadaies as well in time of peace as of war. As touching the necessitie of fighting, An answer to the fourth argument. which is affirmed to be greater to the defendants, because they stand for their goods, wiues, and children: surely their feare and griefe bereaueth them of all chearfulnes, and maketh them to thinke more vpon their mi­serie, than vpon their manhood. The same necessitie lay vpon the Persians: for they saw Alexander ranging oueral Asia with fortie or fiftie thousand men: and yet as many millions of men as were of them, they durst not set themselues against his ar­mie: neither durst the Lydians encounter Cyrus; nor the Gauls fighting for their libertie, encounter the victorious ar­mie of Caesar. An answer to the fifth argument. As touching the aduantage of place, and the cō ­moditie of vittels; surely if the defendant can haue them to serue his turne, the assailants also will not want either of them both. For he that is maister of the field, will haue vittels at his aduauntage, wanting neither carts, guides, nor spies. As long as Hannibal was in Italie, he could better skill how to plant his campe, and to giue battell to his owne aduauntage, than could the Romans being in their owne countrie. And as con­cerning the easie assembling of people at home after an ouer­throw; I find it a hard matter to supplie an armie againe, An answer to the sixt argument. af­ter they be broken asunder, either in ones owne countrie, be­cause they be neere their retreit, or in a straunge countrie, vnlesse they come together againe immediately, because they haue no place to retire vnto; whereas they that are of the same countrie, go to refresh themselues in their owne houses, and tarrie longer there than they should, or else come no more againe, as wee haue seene in these ciuill warres, where the armies haue broken off themselues, by reason that [Page 415] the souldiers and men of armes haue bene too neere their own houses; which thing was not done so in Spaine, England, and Italie. And as for the assembling of much people, it would behoue a man to seeke another countrie than this, where the princes listing not to traine their subiects to the warre, are constrained to craue aid of straungers. An answer to the seuenth argument. Wheras it is said, That the defendant hazardeth but a part of his power: certainly he hazardeth as much as the assailant. For when the assailant departeth out of his countrie, he leaueth garrisons and men of warre behind him to defend it against sudden troubles that might ensue of insurrections by absence of the prince, or by some sodaine inuasion of some neighbor that would take him vnprouided, as Iames king of Scots did to his owne vndoing, a­gainst the king of England, at such time as he was passed to Calice with a great force, and was occupied about the siege of Tirwin and Turney. So that no well aduised prince setteth vp all his rest vpon the hazard of one battell, but doth euer re­serue a store for after-claps. And if a prince chance to be taken prisoner in a forraine countrie, he shall be discharged vpon his raunsome, and vpon such conditions as the conquerour li­steth to giue him: An answer to the eight ar­gument. but if he be taken in his owne countrie, it is hard but that diuerse weake and il-furnished rownes wil yeeld themselues to the conqueror vpon report of his victorie, which townes shall not be admitted in account, when they come to treat of peace. And oftentimes fortune is so fauourable to the vanquisher, that after a victorie he maketh himselfe lord of the whole realme, and needeth not to make any other agree­ment with his prisoner, than to grant or take away his life at his own pleasure. Fortune fur­thereth the aduenterous. It is commonly said that fortune furthereth the aduenterous, and we see it so by experience. Nin [...], Semyramis, and Alexander, were fortunate in their conquests. Pyrrhus was fortunate in getting, but vnfortunate in keeping. And they that go forth with that intent, do seldome faile of their purpose. Charles the eight conquered Naples in short time, and brought backe his armie through the midst of Italie, passing vpon the bellies of his enemies.

[Page 416] Edward king of England comming into France, with reso­lute purpose to conquer the realme, gaue battell to Philip of Valois, and ouercame him both by sea and by land, notwith­standing that Philip of Valois did what could be done by a well-aduised prince. For he encountered him vpon the sea, afore he tooke land, but it booted him not. For God made fortune to turne against him, in which case it is better to strike saile, than to hazard a battell, as Charles the fifth could well skill to do, being taught by the aduersities of his grandfather and father. William duke of Normandie, after one battell, made himselfe souereigne lord of the realme of England, be­ing fully resolued either to conquer, or else to die. I will not say therefore, that an inuader shall alwayes be sure of victory: for sometimes it falleth out cleane contrarie, as it did with Cyrus, who was defeated by the Massagets in their own coun­trie: with the Swissers, who were discomfited in Prouince by Iulius Caesar: with the Sarzins which were discomfited by Charles Martell, who caused Eu [...]o duke of Gascoyne to turne against them. He that loseth a b [...]ell in a strange coun­trie loseth but his men. To be short, He that looseth a field in a strange countrie, loseth but his men: but he that loseth it in his owne countrie, loseth both men and goods, and sees his land dayly wasted, and his subiects pilled.

CHAP. XI. Of the pitching of a Campe.

NOw seeing it is so, that in both sorts of warre, aswell of assailing, as of defending, men must be brought to march togither, either to receiue or to follow the enemie: we must needs speake of the seating of a campe, as vpon the which alone depen­deth the winning of the battell; [...]rr [...]us ex­celled in pit­ [...]ung a camp. as Pyrr [...]us shewed full well, who in that point was esteemed the excellentest of all cap­tains. [Page 417] The campe that is well planted, ought to be nere a riuer, that they may haue the commoditie of water, which cannot be forborne; and also for the fortifying of themselues, and for the doing of their enterprises. For a riuer doth wonderfully strengthen a camp, because the enemy cannot passe it without danger. But a captaine must also be maister of the riuer, and not coope vp himselfe betweene two riuers, except he haue means to get out againe at his pleasure, least it disappoint him of the commoditie of vittels and of succours, as it befell to Iu­lius Caesar in Spaine, against Affraenius and Petreius. But that happeneth commonly by some extraordinarie ouerflowing, wherof notwithstanding a man shal discharge himselfe so well, Of woods. that he shall ouercome them afterward. Secondly, woods serue for another fortification, and yeeld means of goodly en­terprises. Thirdly mountains giue great aduantage, Of hils. to them that are incamped in them. For they that are faine to mount vp to their assault, are wearied afore they come to handstroks. Contrariwise, they that come downward, go with the greater force vpon their enemies. Hanniball vanquished the Romans at Trebia, by hauing his campe planted neere to a wood. He had lodged himselfe neere a riuer, and neere thicke copses, full of brush wood, and thornes, taking occasion to beguile the Romans by that seating of his camp, for when they should com to encoūter him, he sent his brother Mago into that place ouernight, accompanied with a thousand horsmen and a thou­sand footmen, to lie in ambush there. And the next morning he caused his light horsmen of Numidie to passe the riuer, and to skirmish with the Romans, and to draw them into the stale. The which thing was done so cunningly, that when the Ro­mans were in the heat of the fight, they were assailed behind by Mago, who lay in ambush there, so as they could notwith­stand the Carthaginenses, but were constrained to giue back, with great losse of their men. The danger of passing a [...] ­uer. As for to passe a riuer to assaile the enemy, the danger therof is very great, as appeareth in Manlius, who would needs passe a riuer that had but only one foord to passe at, to encounter with Asdruball, contrary to the [Page 418] aduice of Scipio, who warned him of the perill wherinto he did put himselfe. Neuertheles, he passed the riuer and assailed As­druball, who suffered the Romans to do as they listed, without offering them battell, vntill he saw them incumbred in passing the foord. And then with all his force he set vpon the taile of them, and made so great a slaughter, that all their army was at the point to haue ben discomfited, had not Scipios forecast bin, who made the enemies to recoile by the helpe of his men of arms. Timoleon seeing the army of the Carthaginenses sore trou­bled and put out of order in passing a riuer with great peril, and therby deeming that he might take them at aduantage ere they were halfe passed: shewed his men of war with his finger, how the battel of his enemies was parted in two halues by the riuer, the one halfe of them being on the one side, and the o­ther half on the other: and commanded Demaratus to take his horsmen, and to goe and charge vpon the formost of them, to keep them from ranging themselues in battelray. And there­withall he caused his footmen to go downe into the plaine, by means wherof, togither with a storm that fel suddainly against the Carthaginenses, he gat the battel. As touching the aduan­tage of a hill, it is very great, so there be nothing aboue it that may command it. The aduātage of a hill. Perseus had planted his campe to great pur­pose on a high ground of aduantage neere the mountaine O­limpus, and had caused all the passages of the hill to be ware­ly kept, sauing one that seemed vnapprochable. By reason wherof it behoued the Romans to be ill lodged, and vnable to do any exploit of war. For Perseus stood vpon his defence, intending to wearie them by protracting of time, for he assu­red himselfe that he could not be assailed in so strong a place. Paulus Emilius vnderstanding that there was but that one­ly one passage whereat to distresse Perseus, bethought him­selfe how he might winne it. Whereupon feigning to fetch about by the sea and to come vpon his enemies at their backs, he dispatched Nasica secretly with eight thousand footmen and six hundred horsmen, to get the the passage: and he himselfe tooke his way towards the seas side. But when [Page 419] night came, he led them cleane the contrarie way from the sea, vntill he came to the top of the hill, where he lodged himselfe vpon a plaine in the sight of Perseus, who was so astonished thereat, that he remoued his campe immediatly. Iulius Caesar hauing to do with the Belgi­ans, who were the hardiest and of greatest number of all the Gauls, tooke a certaine little hill, the which he cau­sed his men to intrench in two places beneath, least the Gauls who were without comparison mo in number than the Romans, should enuiron him. But neither the one nor the other durst go find out his enemie, because there was a maris betwixt them. But aboue all things a captaine must beware that he lodge not in the midst of a hill, vnlesse he be sure from aboue, sor by that means he may easily indomage his host: as Salomon a captaine of the Romans endomaged the Mau­rusians, The policy of Salomon. whom being incamped vpon the middest of a high hill to their great aduauntage, he was come to assaile from below. But yet he bethought himselfe to take first the toppe of the hill, and for the doing thereof appointed Theodericke with certaine footmen, to climbe the hill ouer night, by a way most difficult, and whereof his enemies had least doubt; commaunding his men not to make any noise when they were come nigh them, but to keepe themselues close till the sunne-rising. In the dawning of the day he marched with his armie directlie vp the hill, and at the same instant the other part of his armie shewed themselues to the enemies vpon the toppe of the hill, so as the Maurisians perceiuing themselues to be betweene the two armies, and hauing their enemies both aboue them on the toppe of the hill, and beneath them at the foot, were con­strained to take them to flight through the thick forrest, with the losse of siue thousand men, and not one Roman slaine. Sylla to compasse Mithridates, Of Sylla. got the back of a hill that was almost vnapprochable, in the day of the battell, and there shewing himselfe to his enemies aboue them, did put them all to flight & to the chase. Of Lucullus. Lucullus being within the view of the [Page 420] campe of Tigranes, who was imbattelled vpon a high ground somewhat neere the citie Cabyra, durst not come downe into the plaine, because he had but a handful of men in compa­rison of Tigranes. But by good hap one Arthemidorus offering himselfe vnto him, promised that if he would follow him, he would bring him into a place, where he should lodge his campe safely, and where he had a castle aboue the citie Cabyra. As soone as night was come, Lucullus making great store of fires in his campe, departed thence; and after he had passed some dan­gerous places, came by the next morning to the top of the mountaine, wherat his enemies were sore abashed to see him aboue them, in a place where he might come down vpon them with aduauntage, if he listed to fight, and could not be forced to fight except he listed. Of Flaminius. Quintus Flaminius perceiuing that he could not giue his enemies battell, by reason of a certaine streight; found the means to disco­uer a way, which within three dayes brought him to his enemies campe. And for his guides he tooke the shepheards, who assured him that that way was not garded. Vpon trust of whose word, Flaminius sent three thousand footmen and thirteene hundred horsmen, who mar­ching by moone light and resting a day times, came the third day to the top of the hill. All that while he stirred not vntill the said third day; and then he caused his armie to march vp the hill against the cragged cliffs. And as he marched, he espied his owne men vpon the top of the hill, which doubled the courage of the Romans that were with him. And on the other part, his companions that were aboue perceiuing him so mounting vp against the hill, began to raise a noise behind their enemies, wherewith they put them in such [...]eare, that by and by they tooke them to flight. The constable of France considering the sortification of the passage of Suze, how that vpon two little hils on either side of the streight, his enemies had made two sconses, and had cut a great and deepe trench betwixt them: perceiued that by winning two other hils higher than those were where his enemies had [Page 421] their fortifications, a man might force them with the shot of harquebusses to abandon their fortification. Wherupon he ceised immediatly vpon those hils. The which thing when his enemies perceiued, they forsooke the passage, and betooke themselues to flight. How a small band may de­fend them­selues against a great army. When the commodity of woods, hils and riuers is not to be had, and a small company of men is to deale with a great number: they must intrench themselues with all speed, and if it be possible they must chuse a place vn­easie to be comne vnto, [...]ull of hedges and vineyards; as the prince of Wales did at Poitiers, when he tooke king Iohn pri [...]soner. For he had put himselfe into a place of such aduantage, as there was but one way to come at him, and that was full of hedges and bushes, and he had laid the hedges full of archers. And as for his horsm [...]n, they were all alighted on foot in the vineyards in so strong a place, as no men on hors-back could enter into. For when an army is to be assailed in their hold, nei­ther horsmen nor footmen can approch thē without breaking their owne aray, as it happened to the Frenchmen at Bicock, through the wilfulnes of the Suissers; and to the king of Ca­stile against the king of Portugall, at the battell of Iuberoth. The Entalits seeing themselues to weake for the Persians, A policy of the Entalits. in­camped themselues ve [...]y sharply in a place of great aduan­tage, and inclosed themselues about with great deepe, and large trenches, leauing only one way to passe at with ten men a [...]ront: and when they had so done, they couered the trenches with leaues and russhes. And when they saw the Persians ap­proch, they sent out certain light horsmen, with expresse com­mandment that they should not be too earnest in fighting but that as soone as the Persians charged them any thing whotly, they should turne their backs and run home to their hold vp­on the spur, and that when they were against the trenches, they should step to the passage, so as they might passe the strait at their leisure. The Persians perceiuing them, failed not to charge vpon them, and they on the other side failed not to [...]lie, and to mount vp the side of the hill, vntill they were come to their companie againe. They were pursued by the whole [Page 422] host of the Persians, who hauing gotten the side of the hil, fell to running against the Enthalits, and not perceiuing the tren­ches, draue downe one another and tumbled into them with great violence one vpon another, by means wherof they were all discomfited, and the king with his 30 sonnes whom he had brought thither, were all found dead. Tomombey would haue done the like to Selim, but his enterprise was discouered. Caba­on captaine of Tripolie, The policy of Cabaon. finding himselfe not strong inough for the Vandals, if he shuld fight with them in the plain, (because they were all horsmen, and the most part of his men were foot­men) and yet notwithstanding hauing no means to chuse any other place, bethought himselfe to make faire great trenches, and therto enuironed his camp with a great number of camels, amongs the which he placed his choisest souldiers, who were hidden among the camels. Besids this, he set twelue camels in the face of the battell, to scare his enemies horses, for horses are woonderfully afraid of camels. When his enemies attemp­ted to approch, they were driuen back with shot of arrows. On the other side, in stead of comming on, their horses gaue back for feare of the camels, insomuch that they were all discomfi­ted. The Marrusians vsed the like stratageme against the Ro­mans: but the Romans had taken order for it. For when the Marrusians had ordered the [...] battels, as it is said afore and that the Romans were constrained to flee, specially the horsmen: Salomon the generall of the Roman army seeing it, alighted from his horse and commanded all his horsmen to do the like, and with fiue hundred men entred into their campe. The ene­mies who had put all their strength in their camels, and in their fortifications, when they perceiued them disappointed, and their camels terrified and putting all things out of order: were driuen to flee, and to leaue their wiues and children to the mercie of the Romans.

CHAP. XII. How to giue courage to men of warre, afore a battell, or in the battell.

IT hapneth oftentimes that souldiers conceiue a feare, when they see they haue to do with too great a number, or with an enemy that is mightie, and a great warrior: or else that in the con­flict they be suddenly dismaid▪ so as it behoueth them to be encouraged by some cunning, in which behalfe the skill of the captains serueth maruellously well, who haue vsed their owne deuise, and diuerse policies according as the case required. Of Orations. Some vse long orations and declarations, as Iulius Caesar did, to rid his men of the feare that they had of the Gauls and Almanes: and it is an ordinarie matter to make an exhortation to the souldiers in the day of battell. Others doe put their people in heart by speeches and countenances, as the Lacedemonian did, Of the coun­tenance of a captaine. to whō when one said that they should be ouerwhelmed with the arrowes of the Persians: so much the better (qd. he) for then shal we fight with them in the shadow. And as another did, to whō when one said, That the enemies were very many, I ask not (qd. he) how many, or how few they be, but where they be, that I may fight with them. The day a­fore the battell of Cannas, The assured­ [...]e [...] of Han­niball. Hanniball tooke certaine men with him, & went to view the Romans. And as he beheld thē, one named Gisco said to him, It is a wonderful thing to see so great a nūber of men of war. To whō Hannibal laughing answered, There is another thing much more maruelous thā that, which is, that there is not one of them al like thee. Wherat euery mā began to laugh so heartily, that the bru [...]t therof went frō hand to hand through the host, & greatly encoraged the souldiers, when they saw their captain so assuring himse [...]f of good [...]peed.

[Page 424] Of Lisander. Lisander seeing his souldiers dismaid at the siege of Co­rinth, and refusing the assault, sought by all means to recōfort them, and as it hapned, a hare started out of the towne ditch, wherevpon he tooke occasion to say thus vnto them. Are you not ashamed to be afraid to assaile those enemies, which are so slothfull and negligent, that hares sleepe quietly within the precinct of their walles? Quintius. Quintius beholding his men astonied at the great power of Antiochus, made this account vnto thē. On a time at a certaine supper in Chalcis where I was, there were brought in many sorts of meat, and I asked of mine host why he had prepared so much: wherunto he answered, That it was all but one sort of meat, namely porke dressed after di­uerse maners: euen so, whereas you heare that Antiochus hath so many light horses, so many men at armes, so many archers, so many light armed footmen, and so many corslets; assure your selues that all this people are but Syrians, armed and fur­nished after diuerse fashions. Marius. Marius perceiuing his men to be afraid of the great number of the Dutchmen that would haue passed into Italie, Of the often beholding of the enemie afore battell. thought it good not to permit his souldiers to ioyne battell with them, vntill they had seene them oft afore. And therefore after he had made great and faire tren­ches, he made them to come vpon the rampires of his campe one after another, to view their enemies, and to enure them with the sight of their countenances, lookes, and marchings, that they might not be afraid of their voyces and words, and that they might vnderstand the fashion of their armour, and the manner of their gouernment. The strange­nesse of things maketh them more terrible than they be in deed. By the means of which or­dinarie sight, he made the things familiar which had beene terrible to them at the first blush, so as they were no more moued at them. For he was of opinion, that the strangenesse of things maketh men through error of iudgement, to thinke things vnaccustomed more horrible & dreadfull than they be in deed. And contrariwise, that customablenes abateth much of the dread and terror of things, which of their owne nature are terrible. Which thing was seene at that time by experi­ence. For their dayly accustoming of themselues to the ordi­narie [Page 425] beholding of those barbarous people, not onely dimini­shed some part of the former fearfulnesse of the Roman soul­diers, but also whetted them vnto choler, by the proud brags and intollerable brauerie of the barbarous people, which did set their courage on a burning desire to fight with them. Pelo­pidas and Epaminondas, Pelopidas and Epaminondas. captains of the Thebans, did the like, inuring the Thebans to behold their enemies oftentimes, who were valiant and redoubted. And afore they would come to fight in good earnest, he sent them diuerse times to light skir­mishes, like good yong greyhounds let slip for the nonce, and then led them to it the more safely afterward, when he had well fleshed them, by giuing them a little tast of the ease and pleasure that commeth of victorie. And by that means hee hartned them more and more, and made them the more sure and strong, insomuch that by such skirmishes, they became more hardie and war-like than they were afore.

Sometime a good captaine, turneth the fearfulnesse of his souldiers into a furie of fighting, by reason of the trauell that they endure; as Sylla did, who when he saw his souldiers asto­nished at the great and puissant host that Mithrid [...]es led well armed: for he would not make them to fight in that feare, but kept them occupied in cutting great trenches, without giuing any of them leaue to rest, to the intent that being weary of the paines that they tooke about such works, they should the ra­ther desire to trie the hazard of battell, as it came to passe. For the third day after they had begun so to labour, as Sylla passed along by them, they fell to crying vpon him, that he should lead them against their enemies. Wherunto he made answer, That those cries were not of men that were desirous of bat­tell, but of men that were wearie of their worke. And if ye be desirous to fight (said he) I will haue you all to go in your armour to yonder passage on the side of the hill. Which thing they did, and obtained it, afore their enemies that were sent thither to get it, could come there, and so they possessed themselues thereof to lodge therein. Morius did almost the same, when he went against the Dutchmen; for he made his [Page 426] souldiers to runne, and to make great and long steps, compel­ling euery man to beare his own fardels, and to carie with him whatsoeuer he should need to liue with. But he did that to in­harden them, and to make them the more tough to abide the trauell of warre.

The policie of Iugurth. Iugurth to assure his owne men, and to put the Romans in feare, slue a souldier at his arriuall, and brandishing his bloodie speare to the Romans, told them in their owne language, that he had learned with them before Numance, that they [...]ought vpon credit, hauing lost their consull Marius. Which saying made the whole armie of the Romans in mind to haue fled, and they were like to haue turned head, had not Sylla staid them.

Of Necessitie Marius a good captaine (if there were any at those dayes in Rome) intending to fight with the Dutchmen, had plan­ted his campe in a place of verie great aduauntage, but he wanted water. The which he did of purpose, to whet the cou­rage of his souldiers by that means. For when it was told him that they were in danger of great thirst, he pointing them to the riuer that was along the side of his enemies campe, said that it be [...]ooued them to fetch drinke from thence; and so they did. For the pages hauing no water for themselues, nor for their beasts, went thither in great companies to fetch water, and there fell into so whot a ski [...]mish, that the Dutch­men were faine to passe the riuer to come to t [...]e bickering, where being taken out of order, and wanting time to raunge their battels in array, they were all discomfited, and the most part of them were drowned in the riuer. Next vnto pains, Despaire is a great incourager to fight, Of Despaire. when men are forced either to fight or to die, and that there is no place of refuge to retire vnto. This is a thing that oftentimes maketh men to fight most valiantly in a straunge countrie. William duke of Normand [...]e, to dispatch his men of al hope of returning home, made all his ships to be set on fire. Manie others haue done the like. But if a generall be accompanied with leaguers, and allies, it is hard for him to inforce them to fight, vnlesse [Page 427] he do it by some policie, as Themistocles did at the famous bat­tell at Salamis. For when it was vniue [...]sally agreed vpon, to fight with the Persians vpon the sea, in a strait that was greatly to the aduauntage of the Greeks, because it was easie to be kept. The Lacedemonians and other their allies & con­federats seeing the sea couered with the ships of the Persians, determined to depart the next morning, and euerie man to go home. Themistocles being greeued thereat, The policie of Themistocles. bethought himselfe of this policie. He had with him a Persian that was a schoole­maister to his children, named Sincinnus, whom he trusted; him he sent secretly to the king of Persia, to aduertise him that Themistocles the chieftaine, generall of the Athenians, ha­uing a good will to do him some speciall seruice, gaue him knowledge of the good hap, that the Greekes were minded to retire and flee away; counselling him not to let them scape, but to set vpon them lustily, while they were so combred and afraid, and disseuered from their armie on land, and so to van­quish all their whole power by sea at once. Xerxes beleuing the counsell, enuironed them in such sort, that they could by no means depart thence; the necessitie whereof made them to resolue themselues to abide the battell, wherein Themistocles had the vpper hand, and vtterly defeated the whole power of Xerxes by sea.

Zabdas, Constable vnto queene Zenobia, The policie of Zabdas. being reti­red to Antioch, after he had lost a battel to the emperour Au­relian, and fearing least the people should fall vpon him in a rage, if they vnderstood the newes of that discomfiture; tooke a man that resembled Aurelian, and made it to be bruted that he brought the emperour prisoner with him. By which guile he kept the Antiochians from rebelling, while he cau­sed his men to retire secretly by night vnto him, without being perceiued of any man.

The countie Petilian seeing the armie of the Italians defeated by king Charles at Foronouo, The countie Petilians po­licie. and being escaped out of the hands of the Frenchmen, where he had beene a prisoner; to the intent to assemble againe the men that [Page 428] were fled, and to giue them courage, ran as fast as he could to the Venetians, and told them that the Frenchmen were van­quished, and put all to flight, counselling them not to let the victorie scape out of their hands: whereby he made them that were astonished, to take courage againe in such sort, that by the authoritie of his name, he made as many as he met, to returne into the battell, which partly was the cause that the army was not vtterly defeated.

When Charles duke of Burbon was slaine with a bullet before the citie of Rome, by and by his bodie was couered with a cloke, to the end that the report of his death, should not stay the souldiers from entring into the breach. The Ro­mans perceiuing themselues vnable to match the Persians, kept themselues in order within the riuer Phasis, of which ar­mie Iustine led the one part, The sowing of a report of succours at hand. and Martin the other. Martin to encourage his people, and to sow a false report among his ene­mies, That Iustinian the emperor had sent succors vnto them; assembled the whole armie as it had beene to consult what was to be done. And as they were so all assembled, suddenly comes in a post, whom he had procured, as cōming from Con­stantinople with letters, which he presented: wherein the em­perour sent them word that he had sent them another armie, as great or greater than that they had alreadie. The post was asked whether the armie was farre off or no: and he answe­red, that the armie was not much abone foure and twentie furlongs off. Then captaine Martin, as if he had bin through­ly angrie, said, He had not to do with it, and that it was no rea­son that they should reape the honour and profit of his trauel. Whereupon he demaunded of his people, whether they thought his saying good or no? and they all answered, yea. In the meane while the report of fresh succours was blowne a­brode into the enemies campe, who thereupon disposed some of their men to the straits, to stop the new armie from passing to ioyne with the other, and at the same instant brought their whole power before the citie, to giue assault vnto it. Now it fortuned that the same day, captaine Iustine had a f [...]ncie to go [Page 429] make his praiers, in a certaine church of the Christians, that was neare the towne; and for his conuey, caried with him fiue thousand horses vnperceiued of the enemies, who by chaunce tooke another way to come to the campe before the towne. When Iustine vnderstood by the noise, that his enemies were afore the towne, setting vp scaling ladders, digging, and making a great assault to enter in, immediatly he turned head, and with his horsemen went and charged vpon his enemies, that were at the point to haue woon the towne. Whereas they being greatly amazed, and thinking that it had beene the fresh succours which they had heard of, tooke themselues to sight, and being pursued by the men of the ci­tie, were almost all put to the sword. Eumenes vsing dissimu­lation wisely, To keep soul­diers from knowing the enemie, to whom the ge­nerall suspec­teth to be be­traied by his owne men. got the victorie against Craterus. For when he vnderstood that Neoptolemus and Craterus came against him, in hope to cause his souldiers to turne to their part by the onely brute of their comming, and also to take them vna­wares as they were making good cheare, becaue they came then freshly from the discomfiting of Neoptolemus: he held his armie in good order, and readie to fight, and therewithall caused a report to run abrode, that it was Neoptolemus and Pigres that came backe vpon him a fresh, with certaine horse­men gathered at aduenture out of Cappadocia, and Paphla­gonia. And to keepe his countrimen from knowing Craterus, he set not one Macedonian against him in the forefront, but placed there two companies of straungers that were men of armes, commaunding them expresly to run vpon their ene­mies as soone as they saw them, and to charge vpon them im­mediatly, without giuing them leysure to parlie, or to retire, and without giuing any eare to the heraults and trumpetters that should be sent vnto them; because he feared least the Macedonians would turne against him, if they once knew that Craterus was there. Wherefore as soone as Eumenes men espied their enemies, they failed not to run against them a full gallop, as they had beene commaunded. At the sight wher­of, Craterus was greatly abashed: for he thought that the [Page 430] Macedonians should haue turned on his side, as Neoptolemus had promised him. Neuerthelesse, dealing like a man of valor, he also spurred his horse against his enemies, and did so well that the battel was fought a long time with doubtful ballance, but in the end Eumenes woon the field, and Craterus and Neop­tolemus the chieftanes of his enemies were both slaine. Some­time a valiant captaine that hath the report to be fortunat, and a great taker of towns, doth euen by his menaces strike a feare into the hearts of soldiers, that are inclosed in a place, & make thē to yeeld it vp, as Glesclin did; who sent word to the men of Hannibout, that he would sup within their towne that night, and that if there were any of them, that threw but a stone whereby any of the least of his pages were hurt, it should cost them their liues. With the which menace the townsmen were so scared, that they stirred not out of their houses, and the Englishmen being too few to abide the assault, were ouer­laid with force, and put all to the sword. The countie of Fois intending to go from Bolonia to Bresse the nearest way, to re­couer it, tooke his iourney through the duke of Mantuas ter­ritorie. And because he was to passe by certaine sluces, which were fast shut vp and well garded, he sent to the duke of Man­tua to desire passage: who notwithstanding that he was against the Frenchmen; yet being abashed at his so sudden comming, was faine to open him the passage, the which he would haue denied him if he had not seene his power.

CHAP. XIII. Of Skirmishes.

Skirmishes are so neare both to good and euill, that it is easie to take the one for the other. WHen two armies come within sight one of a­nother, they cānot be kept from skirmishing, the which is somtime necessary, and somtime verie daungerous. And this poynt (as saith Machiauell) is one of that number, wherein the euill is so neare vnto the good, that the [Page 431] one is easily taken for the other. I haue often heard this fa­shion of making skirmishes blamed by Monsieur Tauannes, who would not put any thing in perill, but all to profit. For he would either fight in good earnest, or hold himselfe quiet without fighting, and reserue his forces to some good occasion. Some will say that such skirmishes giue the more courage to men of war, and make them, as it were to record their lessons, and the things that are to be done in battell. It is a making of thē to look vpon the wolf, that by beholding of him through­ly, they should not be afraid of him. But on the contrarie part also, if the wolfe bite them, it is to be doubted least they will become the colder in hunting him. Three dayes afore the battell of Moncounter, the armie of the Monsieur, and the armie of the princes, skirmished vpon the banke of the riuer Dine, but that skirmish was so rough for them, that they be­gan that day to despair of the victorie, & to be shie of the en­counter which they had anon after. But now to make some resolution vpon the discourse of the hystorie (which is the thing that I pretend) I say that skirmishes are of two or three sorts. The sorts of skirmishes. Sometimes when men lie in garrison, and warres are prolonged, they skirmish with a few men to giue a stroke with the speare, or to make some gallant enter­prise, as was done at Bolloyne against the Englishmen: For they that were in the great fort, and in the fort of the Chastilion, did often times issue out against the Englishmen that lay in garrison in Bolloyne, and there made certain light skirmishes, and so returned into their holds againe. This fight was commended of men of warre, who should but haue lin­gered there, if they had not now and then led foorth their bands, and come downe into the plaine.

Sometimes it is needfull to make skirmishes to assure and to traine your men, as Pelopidas and Epaminondas did agaynst the Lacedemonians. These two captaines were valiant in their owne persons, and had men of good courage, for they fought for their libertie. But they were but meanlie trayned to the warres, and had to do with the [Page 432] Lacedemonians, who had not their peeres in all Greece. Therefore to encourage their men, the said captaines did ere­whiles let them loose to the Lacedemonians at aduantage, as men do yong hounds to a hare. Skirmishes made to ad­uantage, do make the ene­mie despised. And as they were somewhat fleshed, they drew them backe of purpose, and would not ha­zard them too much afore battell, to the intent that tasting the sweetnesse of victorie, they might learne to shake off the feare of their enemie, which was thought to be inuincible; and contrariwise, that the beholding of him, and the often victories had of him to their aduauntage, might cause them to set light by him. Therefore it was needfull to assure them by such skirmishes, afore they should come to battell. Valerius Goruinus did the like against the Samnites, for feare (as Titus Liuius saith) least the new kind of warre, and the new enemie, should dismay them. But such skirmishes must be made with discretion, and not vpon a head, neither must the generall of an armie permit them, except he perceiue some verie great aduauntage on his owne part, to be had without losse or dan­ger. Sometime skirmishes are made to begin battels, and those may and must be: for it is the entrance into the battel. But for as much as some do but onely sustaine such skirmishes, with­out breaking out vpon their enemies, I will speake a word thereof, afore I speake of the battell.

CHAP. XIIII. Whether it be better to beare the brunt of the enemies, or to drowne it at the first dash.

THis would not deserue a chapter, no nor to be once spoken of, but that Machiauel in his discourses hath made a pretie small chapter of it, with a short reso­lution therevpon. And forasmuch as in mine opi­nion, his resolution seemeth not to agree with Iulius Caesars; I will speake a word of it by the way. Now then he saith, that [Page 433] when Decius and Fabius consuls of Rome, made war against the Samnits and Tuscanes, Decius went with his whole power to assaile his enemies; and Fabius did but only ward him, dee­ming the lingering assault to be the more for his behoof, by re­seruing his force to the vpshot, when the enemy should haue forgone his first heat; and therfore that the dealings of Fabius, had better successe than the doings of Decius. For Deciussis le­gions were all discomfited, and himselfe slaine; wheras Fabius went away with the victory, by reseruing his forces vnto such necessities. Of which example he gathereth his resolution, that the doing of Fabius is more sure than the others. But this resolution cannot satisfie me. For it is vnpossible to keepe ones selfe from fighting, when the enemy commeth with full pur­pose to assaile. Well may ye do so when you be well intren­ched, for the enemy cannot assaile you but to his owne losse. But when a day of battell is set, either you must forsake the place, or else fight. And in this case the running together and the shouting of the hostes, giueth the greater cheerfulnesse and force to the men of war. We must then reserue our forces for bat­tel, when the enemy letteth vs alone. It is another thing that Fabius did in reseruing his forces for battell, while the enemie did spit out his fire in another place. And this policie was practi­sed by the late duke of Guise, at the battell of Dreux: for how much soeuer he was intreated to giue battell, he would neuer come to it, vntill he saw that his enemies had spit out all their fire, and that persuading themselues to be sure of the victorie afore hand, they fell to pillage. For then he set vpon them with all his forces fresh and vndiminished, and gaue them the foile. By the way, it had not ben in the power of the constable to refuse battell, nor in the duke of Guisis pow­er neither, if he had ben set vpon. For then had it behoued him of necessitie to fight, and to that intent came they the­ther. But it was a great point of wisdome in the duke of Guise, that seeing his enemies had left him behind, he reserued his power for such a need. And therein he did as Fabius, and as Charles of Aniou did against Conradine. But to know whether in a battell, men ought to sustaine the assault of the enemie [Page 434] without running vpon him, or to daunt him at the first push; the case is to be ruled by the resolution that Caesar maketh therof in his Commentaries, where he findeth fault with Pom­pey, Pompeyes fault at the battell of Pharsalie. for causing his armie to stay at the battell of Pharsalie, when they were going forward to the encounter, and readie to shocke with their enemies. Wherein he saith he did a no­table fault, because the shoutings and the running together, in­creaseth the force of the souldiers, who go therewith the more cheerfully and fiercely to the battell. If such a captaine found that fashion of encountering to be best; surely we ought not to reiect it, we Frenchmen (I say) which haue a cer­tain firy fury at the first, greater than other nations, the which being restrained, would wex so cold afterward, that we should become too slow when we needed to vse our hands.

CHAP. XV. Of a Battell, and of diuerse policies to be practised therin▪

SIth the end of war consisteth chiefly in gi­uing battell; I must now speake therof, and of the policies that are practised in that behalfe. Now there are two sorts of giuing battell, either in tarying for the enemy, or in assailing him. He that tarieth, hath the choise of the place, and the mean to cut off himselfe at leisure, if he list to fight to his owne aduantage. But he that assaileth hath many things to looke vnto. Sometimes he must be faine to passe a water to find his enemy, and for that purpose to make a bridge ouer the riuer, the which may be impeached by his enemie that is on the further side of the ri­uer. And for the prouiding therof, To passe a wa­ [...]r safely. Phil [...]p duke of Cleueland sayth, that great diligence is to be vsed, and artillerie is to be [Page 435] placed on the riuers side to shoot at such as aduenture to come neere the other banke, in the time that the bridge is a laying. And when the bridge is made well and dilligently, he must passe ouer foure faucons, and fiue or six hundred men on foot, and some cariages with speed to stop them, and also some pio­ners to make trenches at need. For fiue hundred or a thousand men inclosed within their cariages wil alwaies hold four thou­sand tack, vntill the rest of the army may come forward, and then shall it be easie to passe the residue of the host in despite of the enemies. But the best and surest way is, not to vse open force, but to make passage by some policy. The policie of Iulian in pas­sing his army ouer a riuer. When the empe­ror Iuliā warred against the Persians, afore he passed a certain riuer, he sent Lucilius with fifteen hundred men to the further side of the water, and yet for the passing of the water he vsed no open force, but caused captaine Victor with a good number of men of war, to passe ouer secretly in the night season, and a good way off from the camp, for feare least he should be per­ceiued, and to ioin himself with Lucilius. This had so good suc­ces, that being ioined togither vnperceiued of the enemy, they charged vpon him behind vnlooked for, wherwith he being a­fraid betook him to flight. This bickering gaue the emperour leisure to passe his army in boats, and to obtain the further bank. Sometimes hast is made to take the enemy vnprouided, and out of aray, to astonish him and to break the order of his bat­tel, as Henrie the bastard of Castile did against his lawfull bro­ther don Peter, by the aduice of Bertrand of Guesclin. For he saw he had but few men, and considered that if don Peter should haue come against him in battell, raunged in good order, he had not beene able to stand against him, by rea­son of the small number of men that he had to encounter so great a number of well trained souldiers, as don Peter brought with him. Therefore he set forward and led his men of war thick set and in good order before him, without any incling of his comming knowne to don Peter. And finding him out of aray, with his bands scattered here and there far from him, he discomfited him and put him to the woorst. [Page 436] Marius was like to haue ben discomfited, by being taken af­ter that sort vnprouided: and yet by another policy he tooke his enemies in a trip, in such sort as I will tell you. Bo [...]chus and Iugurtha came to assaile Marius vpon the suddaine ouer night, The policy of Marius. as he was retiring his armie into garrison. All that Marius could then doe, was but to get two lit­tle hils for his defence, very fit for the seating of a campe. And when he had retired himselfe thether to his aduan­tage, he let his enemies alone, who enuironed the two hils with great noise, and so passed forth the most part of that night. On the contrary part, the Romans made not any noise, but held themselues quiet. But when they perceiued that their enemies beg into fall asleepe, and to take their rest, then Marius caused his men to issue out with great noise vpon the Moores and Getulians, of whom he slue a great number as they lay asleepe, and compelled the rest to forsake the place, and to go seeke another more sure at the fauour of the night: by means whereof he scaped that daunger. Some­times men are afraid to giue battell, by reason of the ad­uauntage of the place. In that case policie is to be vsed, as to take a higher ground than where the enemy lieth as Paulus Emilius did against Perseus in Macedonie, and Sylla against Tigranes, and diuerse others of whom I haue spoken heretofore. For then must they either dislodge, or fight to their apparant losse. The policy of Bertram of Guesclin. Or else he must draw them by some traine, as Bertram of Guesclin did the men of Nauarre; who seeing their armie in a high place of aduantage, and on the other side being aduertised that succour was com­ming to them; the next day, when he and all the army of France ranged in battell, had spent a great part of the day in the plaine, sore vexed with heate and trauel; he thought ther­fore that it was not for him to fight with them in a place of so great disaduantage. But forasmuch as he was sure, that the Nauarrians desired greatlie to come to encounter them, and yet that they would not leaue their strength: to draw them to battell, he made countenance to retire, so long [Page 437] vntill the day began to decline, causing his armor, bagage, and pages to passe ouer a bridge, holding himselfe alwaies still in one quarter, to see what countenance the Na [...]arrians would make. And the better to conceale his pretence, he caused ma­ny of his men of armes to passe also. Anon one Iohn Iouell a captaine of the Nauarrians, contrarie to the aduice of the cap­tall of Buze, went downe the hill and led his men to the en­counter, whom the captall of Buze followed and all the army after him. When the Frenchmen saw him in the plaine, they turned againe vpon the Nauarrians amaine, of whome in the end few or none escaped which were not either slaine or taken ptisoners. A policy to pretend bat­tell, and yet not to do it. Sometimes when a captaine commeth neere his enemies, he will not by and by giue battell, because his men are wearie of their way. But yet to hold his enemie in ex­pectation, he keepeth his men a long while in battelray, as if he ment to come to handstrokes, and in the meane while ma­keth trenches: the which being done, he retireth his men faire and softly into them, lodging the hindermost first, and so successiuelie those that are next them one after another, whereat the enemie is astonished, to see the army of his ad­uersaries lodged safe within their trenches, as Paulus Emilius did against Perseus. For he made so faire a shew of encounte­ring, and lodged his men so cūningly, that he had by little and little vndone his battell, and lodged his people in their campe well fortified, without any noise or hurly burlie, ere his ene­mies had perceiued it. A policy to ta [...]e the ene­my vnpr [...]ui­ded. Yet doth it not follow, but that it may at some times be for a mans aduauntage (though he be wearie and haue trauelled a long iourney) to set vpon his enemies out of hand. But that must be when he is sure to find them out of order, as the countie of Egmount did to the Frenchmen neere vnto Graueling, and Bertram of Guesclin did to don Peter of Castile. Timoleon intending to fight with Icetes, who kept the way to Adrane, twentie leagues distant from Tauremenion, departed thence with all his armie, of purpose to bid him bat­tell. The first day he made no great iourney, but the next day he marched more speedilie. And when it drue towards euen­tide, [Page 438] tidings was brought him that Icetes was but then newlie arriued afore Adrane, and was there incamped. Whereof the captains hearing, caused the foremost to stay to take their repast, that they might be the better disposed to fight. But Ti­moleon aduaunced himselfe forward vnto them, and praied them not to do so, but to march on still, as speedilie as they could, that they might take their enemies out of order. And he himselfe marched foremost as if he had held the victorie in his hand, and so the residue followed him with like confidence. As soone as they came there, they charged vpon their enemies, whom they found all disarmed, and ther­fore they tooke them to their heeles as soone as they saw them come neere.

The Suissers vsed the like policie against the Frenchmen, when they had raised the siege of Pau [...]e, taking them sud­dainlie vnprouided and not intrenched. But as I haue said) this maner of dealing is verie daungerous, The daunger [...] too much to giue battell. if a man be not sure that he shall find his enemies out of order. It was one of the faults that the Frenchmen committed at the battell of Cressie, in that they hauing trauelled six leagues, did giue battell to the Englishmen that were fresh and lod­ged at aduauntage. For the Frenchmen were tired and weary, and had the sunne vpon their faces, and had marched in great disorder. In respect whereof, they should haue intren­ched themselues as Paulus Emilius did, to the end they might haue had leisure to take breath and gather their strength againe, and to vnderstand of their enemies behauior, and to take aduauntage as well as they, and to tary for the rest of their power that was comming after. For the next day after the battell, they also were discomfited, and a seuen thou­sand of them were slaine, which had the battell ben delaied till the next morrow, would haue ben a maruellous succour to the rest of the armie, and haue helped at need to re-unite the armie when they were broken; as the souldiers of the earle of Mountfort did, after that the Frenchmen had discomfi­ted them before Roche Darien. For by and by they gathered [Page 439] themselues togither againe to the lord of Cadudall, who com­ming then newly with a hundred men of armes and certaine footmen, went by the sunne rising to the campe of Charles du Bloys, (who doubting nothing because hee had gotten the vi­ctory, slept & tooke his rest:) and finding him in that disorder, did put his men to the vtterance, and caried him away prisoner to Hannibout. The see [...]ing of aduauntage to fight [...]. Sometime in fighting a battell, a man hath the sunne full in his eyes. To auoid this danger, Paulus Emylius was so long a raunging his men in battell, that by the time that the battels should ioine, he had the sun vpon his backe. Ma­rius vsed the like policie against the Cimbrians, and Philip Augustus against the Flemmings. At the battell of Can­nas, Hanniball helped himselfe both with the sunne and the wind, and thereby chiefly wan he the battell. There blew a mightie strong and boistrous wind like a tempest of thunder and lightning, which raised the parched dust from the sandie plaine as hote as fire, and driuing it through the battell of the Carthaginenses, strake it ful into the faces and eyes of the Ro­mans with such violence, that they were enforced to cast their heads backe, and to disorder their ranks.

Themistocles being determined to fight with Xerxes king of Persia vpon the sea, chose a strait and narrow place, that hee might the better reuenge himselfe agaynst the multi­tude of the kings shippes: and moreouer waited the time most fit and fauourable for his purpose. For hee raun­ged not his shippes in order of battell, afore a certaine houre, when a great wind was woont to rise vppon the sea-coast, which raised great wa [...]es in the channell. Now this wind did no displeasure to the Greeke gallies, be­cause they were low, but it did great annoyance to the Persian ships, which had their hatches high, and their fore­decks raised high, for it made their flankes to lie open conti­nually to the Greekes, who went and dashed lightly against them. The Athenians did the like vnder the leading of Phormio against the Peloponnesians. The Athenians [...]ad but twentie shippes to keepe Na [...]ct, and those were [Page 440] but ill furnished to fight vpon the sea, and the Peloponnesi­ans has seuen and fortie well furnished, by reason whereof they sticked not to make their vagaries all alongst the coast of Epyrus, to passe ouer into Acarnania. Neuerthelesse, they were pursued by the Athenians, who compelled them to raunge themselues in battell, and to fight in the middest of a strait, where for the better fortifying of themselues, and to stoppe the Athenians from issuing out, they raunged their ships in a ring, wi [...]h their noses outward, and their sternes in­ward: and in the middes of the ring they placed their small and light vessels, to set them out vpon their enemies when time should require. As for the Athenians, they set their ships all in a row, enuironing the ships of their enemies, and pretending yet more. But Phormio had charged them not to fight, vntill he had giuen them a token, assuring himselfe that when the land-wind arose, which began to blow in the mor­ning, the ships of the Peloponnesians would dash one against another. Now as soone as the wind began to blow, the ships fell to iustling in deed: and specially those that were in the middest, being the light or sort, did great anoyance to the rest: insomuch that they were al occupied in setting planks before their ships for feare of d [...]shing. And there was so great a crie and disorder among the Peloponnesians, that they could not heare the commaundement of their captaines. Which thing when Phormio saw, he gaue a token of battell to the Atheni­ans, who charging lustily vpon them, ba [...]ered and sunke the first that they encountered, and put the residue to flight.

To come vpon the enemie behind, while he is fighting.Sometimes a companie of men are kept out of the battel, and are commaunded to set vpon the enemies behind in the heat of the battell, to put them in feare, and to make them breake their array. When To [...]us was to giue battell to the Romans, he drew aside three hundred men of his armie, and gaue them commaundement, that in the fiercest of the bat­tell, they should charge vpon the Romans behind. Which thing they did so fitly, that the Romans thinking them to be a fa [...]re greater number than they were, betooke them­selues [Page 441] to flight. Aignas a Roman captaine, seeing Bellisarius readie to giue battell to the Persians, bestowed himselfe with his men couertly in a valley, and when they were well for­ward at the battell, he mounted vp a little hill, and taking the Persians vnawares behind, did easily put them to flight. When Marius was about to fight with the Dutchmen, he sent Claudius Marcellus out of the way, with three thousand footmen, willing him to keepe himselfe close, vntill he saw the Dutchmen tied to the fight with him, and then in the chiefest of the battell, to go charge vpon them behind. The which he did so fitly, that the Dutchmen feeling themselues assailed behind, were forced to turne head, and by that means falling in disorder, were all vanquished. Iohn duke of Burgoine, in the battel of Tongres, sent a thousand footmen, and fiue hun­dred horsemen, to assaile his enemies on their backes in the chiefe of the fight: Which thing when Pieranes would haue prouided for aforehand, by sending a companie of chosen men to encounter them; the common people would not permit him, and so they felt the smart of their wilfulnesse.

As touching the ordering of an armie, Diuers ma­ners of orde­ring an armie. it is done by the eie, according to the aduertisments that are had of the ene­mie, and a [...]ter as he is seene to be disposed. Now to giue a cer­taine rule thereof, it is vnpossible; neither is it my intent, but onely to put in practise the auncient histories, and to put in writing the policies that haue beene vsed by men of old time. Hanniball that captain of singular experience, ordered his bat­tell in such wise at Cannas, that he set the best men of their hands on the two sides, and filled vp the middest with the worser. The which two wings he caused to shoot themselues forth in a point, inioyning them that as soone as the Romans had broken the forefront, and pursued them as they retired backe, so as the middle of the battell came shrinking in, and bowing in compasse like a new moone, and that the Romans were come within it; then they should fall vpon them on ei­ther side, and inclose thē in behind. Insomuch that the battel which at the beginning was informe of a wedge, was at length [Page 442] in forme of a Cressant, which was a cause of the great slaugh­ter. The constable of Clisson vsed almost the same fashion, at the battell of Rosebecke. He led his host diuided in three parts; a vauntgard, a maine-battell, and a rereward, and all three neere one another. But when they began to approch, they stepped forth into wings, so as the middleward was som­what shrunke in, and drawne backer: but the men of armes that were in the wings fell to it so furiously, that the Flem­mings were not able to follow them that were in the battell, insomuch that it set it selfe in strength againe, and the Flem­mings being cooped in betweene the three battels, lost al­most fiue and twentie thousand of their men. Amur [...]t did the like at Nicopolis. For he caused his two wings to aduance forward, wherein hee had almost threescore thousand men, and set himselfe well closed in the bulcke of the battell, sen­ding eight thousand men afore to skirmish, and to keepe his armie from being discouered, whom he commaunded, that when they were assailed by the Christians, they should tetire to the bodie of the battell. The which thing they did so fitly, that the Frenchmen which were in the vaward were inclosed on all sides, and the most part of them slaine or taken, and the rest were driuen to flee, to their great losse. But he that doth this, The ranks must not be inlarged where is but few men. must haue a great number of men. For it is a daungerous matter to enlarge the ranks, when a man hath but few men, because that thereby he maketh them the thinner, and con­sequently the easier to be broken. For there is no force like to the force of them that fight close set, for they giue the lesse scope to enter into their ranks. Paulus Emylius woon the battel against Perseus by this policie: He saw it was not possible for him to worke any thing against the maine battel of the Mace­donians. In this despaire he fell to viewing wistly the seat of the enemies campe. And perceiuing that the field where they fought was not plaine, ne lay whole togither, he considered that the battell which was lodged formost, could not alwaies maintaine that hedge of pi [...]es and of targets ioyning toge­ther, but that by fine force they should be compelled [...]o [Page 443] open in many places, as it falleth out in all great battels, accor­ding to the inforcement of them that fight against them, so as in one place they thrust themselues forward, and in another they be driuen backe. A meane to open a battel. Wherefore Emylius taking suddenly this occasion, diuided his men into small troopes, appointing them to take vp the places which they found emptie at the front of the battel of their enemies, and so to ioine themselues vnto thē, not by maintaining a continual charge vpon thē, but by setting vpon them here and there, in diuers places at once by diuers companies. According to this commaundement deliuered to the captains from hand to hand, the Romans slipped immediatly into places which they found emptie or ill garded, and being entered in, assailed the Macedonians, some vpon the sides where they were naked and bare, and o­thersome behind, in such sort that the strength of the whole bodie of their battell, which consisted in holding themselues close togither, was by and by defeated by being opened after that maner. What is to be done when a general hath but few men. But to come backe againe to our purpose. When a generall hath but few men, he must choose narrow places, that he may be able to resist many, and not be inclosed about by a great number. For, to do so with a great number of men is vnauailable, yea and sometimes noysome. It was the first mischiefe that Darius receaued at the hand of Alexander. His wisest men councelled him to tarrie for Alexander in a plaine and open countrie, seeing he had a desire to fight with him, and not to go seeke him in Cilicia, in strait and narrow places, where if he tooke him in the straits, his ar­mie would stand him in no stead to fight, A great armie must not chuse a hill-ground, but a plain cham­pion. so pent vp. But he not crediting that wholesome counsell, found too late, that a great armie ought alwayes to choose a large place, where a man may with his great number enclose his enemie, which he cannot do in a narrow roome. And so shall the horsemen fight at their ease, whereas in a narrow countrie full of hed­ges, they can do no good at all. This was a lesson that Xan­tippus a captaine of the Lacedemonians taught to the Car­thagenenses.

[Page 444]Although the Carthagenenses had a goodly great armie, good footmen, & great store of horsemen: yet were they euer vanquished by the Romans. At length they tooke this Xan­tippus to be their generall, that had the report to be a good captaine. Who hauing considered their warlike furniture, maruelled that they encamped in the mountains, hauing so many elephants, and horsemen, and that they did not rather keepe the plaines, which without comparison was most for their aduauntage, seeing that the force of the Romans con­sisted in footmen, and not in horsmen. Therefore he made them to come downe into the plaines, where he fought with the Romans and ouercame them, vnder their consull Atti­lius Regulus, who was there taken.

A battell oft times is so well ordered on all sides, that there is no way to enter into it. The policie of captaine Pelinian. In such case a man must seeke the weakest places, as I haue said alreadie, or else vse the policie of captaine Pelinian, who to make his men the forwarder in assailing the Macedonians, tooke the Antsigne of his band, and threw it into the thickest of his enemies: whereupon his men pressed with great violence after it, because they estee­med it a great dishonour to abandon and forsake their Ant­signe. But yet notwithstanding all was in vaine, and to their losse; because the Macedonians were so fast linked togither, and held their pi [...]es so steddie, that it was vnpossible to re­moue them.

To reassemble an armie that goeth by the worst.When an armie goeth by the worse, or is readie to breake their array, the presence of the generall is maruellous­ly behooffull, to make them returne to the fight againe, by his encouragement, or by fighting afore them in his own per­son. For when they see their generall in daunger, they be a­shamed to leaue him without fighting for him. So did Sylla a­gainst M [...]thridates. For when he saw his armie almost defea­ted; he cast himselfe a crosse them that fled, vntill he found his enemies, crying, Ye souldiers of Rome, mi [...]e honour wil­leth me to die here. And therefore whensoeuer ye shall be as­ked where ye haue abandoned your captaine, remember that [Page 445] ye answer, ye forsooke him in Orchomene. Whereat they were so ashamed, that suddenly they turned their faces again, and wan the field.

Iulius Caesar being in the like perill in Spaine against the Pompeyes, said vnto his men, Seeing ye forsake me thus, deli­uer me by and by into the hands of Pompeyes sonnes. The which saying made them for verie shame to returne into the battell, the which they woon in the end. At another time he caught the standard out of the standard bearers hand that fled, and made him to returne, saying, It is here my souldier, it is here that we must fight. Iulian the emperour seeing cer­tain men fl [...]e at the beginning of a battel, caused ten of them that first fled to be put to death, to the intent that the resi­due, for feare of the daunger that was behind, should fight va­liantly, seeing the perill was greater in fleeing than in figh­ting. Charles Martell did the like against the Sarzins; for he appointed certaine men, to do nothing else but to kill such as fled backe. And besides that, he did them to vnderstand, that the gates of Towers were shut, and that they should not be opened for any misfortune that befell. Sometimes, to tempt and allure souldiers, To tempt an armie with d [...]sir [...] of prey. men offer them a prey or bootie, that by being eagre of it, they may breake their aray, as Charles the eight did at Foronouo by the counsell of Triuulce. For he made all the baggage of the campe to march on the left hand where were all the kings costly iewels. The which thing whē the Albanois espied, by and by they flang out to that part, kil­ling and ouerthrowing the muleters and pages that made countenance of defence. The footmen perceiuing how the Albanois made spoile, ran thither also, so as it put the armie of the Italians quite out of order, and ministred the more oc­casion to king Charles, to compasse his matters well. To reme­die the matter that a man be not surprised behind, To let or im­pea [...]h the as­sailing of an army behind. whether it be in assaulting a town, or in giuing battel: he must leaue some men of purpose to abide that brunt, which must intend to that and nothing else; or else he must do as Demetrius or Sertorius did. When Sertorius had laid siege to the towne of Lauron, [Page 446] Pompey went thither in great hast to succour it. Neere vnto the citie was a little hill to lodge a campe in, and to annoy the towns-men. By means whereof, the one hasted thither to win it, and the other hasted to keepe it. But Sertorius came thither first and tooke it. And anon after Pompey came thi­too, who was well apaid that it had so come to passe; thin­king to hold Sertorius pent vp betweene the citie and his ar­mie. But hee was greatly astonished, when he saw the six thousand of men well armed, whom Sertorius had left in the campe whence he departed, to the intent that if P [...]mpey came to assaile him, they should sit vpon his skirts. Which thing Pompey perceyuing, durst not offer battell, but was con­strained to see the towne destroyed before his eyes, and was not able to rescue it.

Ptolomie was deceiued after the like maner. For when he had his armie on the sea readie to encounter Demetrius, he gaue his brother Meneleus charge, that when he saw them grappled to come to hand-strokes, and that they were busiest in fight, he should set out of the hauen of Salamis, and come set vpon Demetrius shippes behind, to scatter them and to breake their aray, with threescore gallies, whereof he had the leading. But Demetrius hauing prouided for it aforehand, had appointed ten gallies to stop him, thinking them enow to shut vp the mouth of the hauen that was small and nar­row, so as none that were within it could get out. By rea­son whereof being sure behind, he charged so stoutly vpon Ptolomie, that he discomfited him.

To beguile the enemie in ordering of ones battel.When the enemie knoweth that a captaine vseth an or­dinarie maner of ordering his battels after one fashion, he or­dereth his owne after the same maner. But to beguile him, he must do as Cornelius Scipio did in Spaine against Hasdru­ball: who knowing that his enemie was aduertised, that he was woont to place his best souldiers in the middest of the frunt of his battels, and the worst behind; and doubting least Has­druball would do the like, altered his order in the day of the battell. For he set his best souldiers in the corners of his [Page 447] armie, and the worser sort in the middest. And when it came to the onset, Scipio caused the souldiers of the middle part to march sostly, and the two wings to aduaunce forwarder, who encountering with men of lesse experience, did easily ouer­match them. In the which time, those of the two middle­wards, which on Asdrubals side were the chiefest men, and on Scipi [...]s side the woorst of his armie were but beholders of the others. By means whereof Asdruball was easilie defeated by the Romans.

At the battell of Tongres, when the lord of Pieranes saw the duke of Burgoyne send fifteene hundred men on his back, he altered the forme of his battell, which was pointed tri­angle-wise, and brought it into a square, setting his horsemen and shot hindermost, to withstand them that were comming behind, and fencing the sides with cariages, by reason where­of he had gone away that day with the victorie, if he had had men that had beene good warriours, and well trayned. But the want of them both, made him to lose both the battell and his life. When a man hath few hors­men. When the generall of an armie hath too few hors­men, he must set some company of pikemen behind them, and now we may set harquebuzers that are accustomed to fight with horsmen, as Iulius Caesar did at the battell of Pharsalie agaist Pompey. For hauing set forth the best and most practi­sed legionarie souldiers that he had, he was suddenly assailed with a great companie of yong Roman gentlemen on horse­backe. To whom when his horsemen had giuen place, they came vpon those old fellowes, who flung their iauelings full in their faces. Whereat the yong gentlemen being astonied, tur­ned themselues by and by to flight.

Sometime to beguile the enemie, To beguile the enemie by pre­tending weak­nesse. a captaine makes his armie to seeme lesse than it is, that the enemie may be the bolder to fight: or else he causeth a brute to be raised, that he hath sent a part of his armie abrode, which he hath not done in deed; by either of which waies manie haue beene de­ceiued. One armie was sent afore against Asdruball, who was come downe into Italie with a great puissance: and in an [Page 448] other part Nero the consull had another armie neer vnto Han­niball, and to his seeming well rampired and fortified. Nero de­parted secretly with the most part of his power, and went to ioine in campe with his fellow consull, without increasing the number of Antsignes, so as the campe appeared not to be a­ny greater than it was woont to be. This beguiled the Car­thagenenses: who finding greater force than they looked for, were all vanquished. As much befell to Curio in Affricke, a­gainst Iuba king of Mauritania. For the king made a report to be blowne abroad, that he was sore encombered in his owne countrie, and that he had sent but some small number of his men thither; and yet in deed he marched himselfe with his whole armie. But he had sent the said former band a good while afore, and he himselfe came speedily after with his whole power. Whereby Curio being deceiued, gaue him bat­tell: Then was he greatly abashed to see his enemies continu­ally succoured with fresh men, and their armie still increasing to the eie, so that in the end he was ouercome. Ferdinand king of Naples, being aduertised that the lord of A [...]b [...]ey was but feeble, gaue him battell vpon a iolitie of courage, without fur­ther enquiring, and was as brauely receiued by the lord Awb­ney, who had ioyned vnto his owne the forces of the lord of Precie, and so with those forces togither encountered king Ferdinand.

Catos policie.While Cato was in Spaine, ambassadors were sent vnto him from a citie that was besieged, to demaund succour of him. Cato graunted them their demaund, & causing the third part of his armie to be imbarked in their sight, dispatched them a­way, with charge that they shouid giue notice what succours were sent to them. But as soone as the ambassadors were gone, he secretly caused his imbarked men to come backe againe. The Spaniards thereupon thinking they should haue had to do but with a few Romans, came boldly to bid them battall; but they were ouercome for their labour. Diuerse times when a captaine hath but few men in comparison of his enemie, A false pre­tence of feare. he will pretend a feare, to make his enemie the more carelesse.

[Page 449]And when he perceiueth him to be so, then aduentureth he to take him vnpurueied, as Lisander did the Athenians. Who perceiuing himselfe vnable to match them in strength, rode at anchor in a streit neere to the citie Lampsacum, after he had taken it by assault. The Athenians on the other side, came with great speed into the bay of Sestros, and when they had refreshed themselues with food, they presented them­selues to the gallies of Lacedemon, wherof Lisander had the gouernment; who on his side ranged his men in order of battel, but he forbad them to fight or to row out against the Atheni­ans. Who retiring themselues towards night, went a land, wher­of Lisander was informed by such as he had sent after them to marke their demeanor. The next day they did as much, and so the third and fourth daies: insomuch that the Athenians con­ceiued a great confidence in themselues, and a great disdain of the Lacedemonians, thinking that their keeping of themselues so pent vp, was for very feare. The fift day when the Atheni­ans hauing made the like offer of a battell to their enemies, were retired towards the euening in disorder: Lisander sent cer­tain Galiots after them to note their behauiour, commanding the captains of them, that as soone as they saw the Athenians out of their gallies, they should returne to him with all speed possible: and that when they were in the middest of the streit, they should heaue vp a copper shield a high into the aire vp­on the point of a pike, as a token to make the whole fleet to come rowing in battelray. By reason whereof, as soone as the shield was lifted vp, Lisander hauing all his men in a readines, and being not past one league off from the Athenians, made saile so swistly in the smooth sea, that the Athenians had no leisure to take their weapons and to put themselues into their gallies, because their souldiers were scattered abroad, some gone to buy vittels, some to supper, some to walking in the fields, and some to sleepe, no man doubting that which hap­pened; insomuch that of nine and twenty gallies, only nine es­caped, the which Conon saued by swiftnes when he perceiued the disorder: and of this vnfortunat aduenture ensued the vt­ter [Page 450] ruine of the Athenians. Iulius Caesar being come but with seuen thousand men in great hast to rescue Quintus Cicero, that was besieged by threescore thousand Gaules, was greatly a­bashed when he saw all the Gaules vpon him, who had left their siege to come against him. By reason whereof he was faine to retire, and to put himselfe into a place fit for a cap­taine, which with a few men was to fight against a great num­ber of enemies, forbidding his souldiers to go out to skirmish in any case, and compelling them to heighthen the rampires of their camp, and to fortifie their ports as men that were afraid, to the intent that their enemies should haue them in the more disdaine, vntill such time as one day he spied a fit occa­sion by their disorderly comming to assaile the trenches of his campe, and then he made a salie out vpon them, and put them all to flight, with the slaughter of a very great number of their men. To make an army seeme greater than it is. Sometime to deceiue the enemie a captaine makes his army to seeme greater than it is; As when he raungeth his souldiers, his pioners, and all other sorts of people in battell vpon the side of a hill, and on the other side setteth his varlets and lackeies on horsbacke with the men of arms, so as it ma­keth a long and terrible hedge to looke on. King Ferdinand vsed that policie, to keepe the lord of Presy from winning the rock of Naples. For he chose a place by the which the French men must needs passe, and there did set his army and fortifie his campe. For he ment not to put any thing in hazard, because he had twice alreadie had proofe of the valeantnes of the Frenchmen, to his very great disaduauntage, and the losse of his men. And as he was a making his trenches, the French­men shewed themselues to his Arragonians; which thing made them to leaue their worke, and to put themselues in a­ray ready to giue battel. And therwith he caused the pezants to be armed, so that all the hils glistered of the troopes of them. And below, the host of the Arragonians was imparked in a strong place vneasie to be approched, which thing cau­sed the French army to stop short, and not to hazard the bat­tell, least they should be too few in respect of their enemies. [Page 451] Antonie fearing least Octauian that was comming against him with his army by sea, should seaze vpon his ships, (which were vtterly vnfurnished of men of war) if he came to the encoun­ter: made the gallislaues to arriue there, and set thē in order of battell vpon the hatches of his ships, and afterward caused all the rowes of oares to be pitched vp an end and set vpright in­to the aire on either side of the gallies, with their prowes bent against Octauians gallies, at the enterance of the gulfe that be­ginneth at the point of Actium. And he held them so in order of battel, as if they had ben furnished as well with men of war to haue abidden battell, as with rowers. Wherfore Caesar be­ing deceiued by that sleight of war, retired. Hugh of Moncada viceroy of Naples, and Gobby an expert and famous captaine of seamatters, intending to giue battell on the sea to the French­men, that were at Naples vnder the conduct of Phillippin Do­ree, caused many fisherboats to be added to their gallies, to a­mase their enemies withall. But yet this trick was no impedi­ment, but that Phillippin wan the battell. Agesilaus, to hide the flight of such as had robbed him in his camp to go with the Thebans, and to keep his men from being discouraged therat; concealed them as much as he could; and for the doing there­o [...], ordained that euery morning when they went to visit the straw beds of the soldiers, they should hide the stuffe of them that were gone thether.

CHAP. XVI. Of the pursuing of victorie.

WHen the enemie is put to flight, the chiefe thing that the generall hath to do, is to pur­sue his enemy with all speed, that he may a­stonish him the more, and not to giue him respit to resolue himselfe what to do. Iulius Caesar excelled in that point; for he neuer woon battell, but he toooke his enemies campe the same day. [Page 452] Alexander neuer left to pursue Darius, vntill he saw him quiet in his owne country. On the contrary part, this only fault is no­ted in Hannibal, that he pursued not his victory after the battel of Cannas, by going to besiege Rome then vtterly dismaied with the present los [...]e. Insomuch that one said vnto him, He could well skill to get the victory, but not to vse it. Aetius was reproued for doing the like fault, when he would not proceed to make a cleane dispatch of Attila, as he might easily haue done. But he feared least if Attila were dispatched, he should haue to do with the Goths, when they once perceiued them­selues to be rid of such a common enemie. Lewis of Aniou won a battell in the realme of Naples, wherin he discomfited his competitor Ladislaus. And it is said that if he had pursued that victorie without suffering Ladislaus to take breath, he had continued lord of the realme, the which he forwent for want of doing so. The which thing Ladislaus himselfe confessed say­ing, that the first day of the battell, his enemies had ben mai­sters both of his person and of his kingdome, if they had done their dutie; that the second day they had ben maisters of his kingdome, but not of his person, if they had pursued the victo­ry; and that the 3 day they had not any power, either ouer his person or ouer his kingdom. Men must not be too what in following a chase. Also in chasing the enemy, a man must be well ware that he cast not himselfe into danger, as it befell to Monsieur de Foys at Rauenna. The Achaians hauing ouerthrowne the Lacedemonians in battell, would needs fol­low the victory. And among others, Lysiadas pursued the chase among the men of armes, contrarie to the counsell of Aratus, generall of the Achaians, who would not permit his men to passe further, because of a great and deepe bog which they were to passe, and for that the way foorth on was vneuen and ill ioined togither, which thing Lysiadas found true to his owne harme. For when he was come thither, he found himselfe in a place full of vines, wals, and ditches, where he was constrained to disseuer his people, whence he could not get out again. The which gaue occasion to Cleomenes king of the Lacedemonians, to charge vpon him, to kill him, & to discōfit all his men. And [Page 453] this victorie made the Lacedemonians to take such courage again vnto them, that returning back they gaue a fresh charge vpon the Achaians, whom it was easie to defeat, because the one halfe of their power was gone from them. Demetrius ha­uing discomfited a wing of his enemies, chased them so far, that he could not ioin again with his footmen; by reason wher­of they being destitut of their horsmen, were all discomfited. Philopemen perceiuing that Machauidas the tirant of the La­cedemonians, had put his archers to slight at the beginning of the battell, determined to let him passe on without resisting him. And when he saw that the horsmen of Machauidas were far inough off from his footmen; he made his men to march against the Lacedemonians, whose flanks were then bare of horsmen, and charging vpon the side of them, did put them to flight with a very great slaughter. The which being done, he met suddainly with Machauidas comming back from the chase and thinking to win all: and slue him as he would haue leaped a ditch. The same Philopemen did much better, when he had put the army of the tirant Nabis to slight. For when he saw his enemies sled, not all on a heape towards the citie, but scatte­red themselues here and there abrod in the fields; he sounded the retreit, forbidding his men to chase them any further, be­cause the countrie thereabouts was full of couert waies, and vneasie for horsemen, by reason of brookes, vallies, and quag­mires which it be houed them to passe. But suspecting that to­wards the euentide when it began to wex dim, they would re­tire into the citie one by one, he sent a number of archers to lie in ambush alongst the coasts and hils that are about the citie, who made a great slaughter of Nabisis men, because they retired not in troope, but one by one, and went to put them­selues into the hands of the archers, like silie birds that flee in­to the foulers net. Iulius Caesar regarded not to chase the hors­men whom he had put to slight in the battell of Pharsalie, but went on to charge vpon the battell of footmen, as more easie to compasse about and to inclose, who being assayled on the flanke by thos [...] that had foiled the horsemen, and on [Page 454] the frunt by the tenth legion, could not long stand and make head, but cleane contrary to all their hopes, saw that by see­king to intangle their enemies, they brought themselues into the briers. How victory is to be vsed. Sometimes it is neither good nor expedient to pur­sue the enemie too much, but rather to make them a bridge of siluer to passe away apace, least despaire driue them to ad­uenture & to get the victory. The danger of fighting with folk in des­paire. For as Iornand saith, Easily doth he resolue himselfe to fight, which hath no means to flie a­way; as befell to the Goths against Stillico, and to the prince of Wales against king Iohn, who would not admit any reasona­ble composition. For there is not so dangerous a thing, as the driuing of a man into despaire. That was the cause that The­mistocles, after he had gotten the victorie against Xerxes, in the battell vpon the sea at Salamis, would not trie his power any further in fighting with him any more, but rather sent one of the groomes of the kings chamber whom he had taken prisoner, to aduertise the king that the Greeks were resolued, to breake the bridge of shippes which he had made ouer the streit of Hellespont. Wherof he was very willing to aduertise him, to the intent that in good time, he might withdraw him­selfe out of the seas of his territorie, and passe ouer again into Asia with all speed possible, in the meane time that he with­held the residue from pursuing him, whereof Xerxes was so a­fraid, that he departed with all the hast he could. Paul, a Ro­mane captaine, perceiuing that he could not hold out against the power of Totilas, determined to make a salie out, and to sell his life as deare as he could. But Totilas dreading this des­paire of his, graunted him reasonable conditions, that is to wit, either to giue him entertainment to serue him, or to go home into his owne countrie with all his souldiers; for he would not lose his people against men that were desperat. The Ve­netians at Foronouo would not stop the way of king Charles, but let him go and returne home at his ease; fearing least through necessitie turned into despaire, he should make him­selfe way with great blood shed, of those which vndiscretly would haue stopped him. Notwithstanding, the Italians and [Page 455] Spaniards being caried away with the contrarie counsel, found to their exceeding great losse, how daungerous a matter it is to hold backe an armie that is desperat, and driuen by neces­sitie to fight.

CHAP. XVII. Of the retiring of an armie, and how to saue it when it is in a place of disaduauntage.

IT happeneth sometimes that an ar­mie, either through the default of the guides, or otherwise, lighteth into such a place, as it standeth them on hand to retire speedilie, if they will not be foyled. In this case the captaine is to vse policie and quicknesse, as Hanniball did, The policie of Hanniball. who be­ing come into the bottome of a sacke by the ouersight of his guides; to scape the daunger wherein he was, because he had Fabius at his side, who would haue starued him for hunger, or made him to fight to his great disaduauntage; chose out a thousand oxen, and tied to euerie of their hornes a fagot of willow and of vine twigs; commaunding them that had the charge, that in the night time when he should lift them vp a token in the aire, they should set the fagots on fire, and driue the oxen vp the hill, towards the passage which the Romans had seazed. He for his part had set his men in order of battel, and as soone as night was come, he made them to march a leysurely pace. Now so long as the fire that bur­ned the fagots vpon the oxens hornes was but small, the oxen went faire and easily vp the foot of the hill, like as it had beene an armie marching in aray with torches lighted. But when the fire once burned the roots of their hornes, then [Page 456] they began to push one another, and to run here and there o­uer the hils for the paine that they felt. This did so astonish the Romans that kept the passage, for feare least they should be beset, that they durst not tarie at the passage where they were appointed, but leauing the straits fell to fleeing towards their campe. By means whereof, anon the v [...]untcu [...]rors of Hanniball tooke the passage, whereat he passed all his host without feare or perill. Brasidas being charged by the Illirians, and intending to retire, did cast his armie into a square, and made them to march on so in good order; and he himselfe ta­ried b [...]hind with three hundred of the best and forwardest souldiers of his armie, to abide the shocke of the foreriders. When he was in the plaine, he bethought himself that there was but one narrow passage, whereby he might saue himselfe, which was betweene two rocks, whereof the Illirians had be­gun to take possession. Which thing when Brasidas saw, he commaunded his three hundred men that were with him, to run with al the hast they could, to seaze the strongest of those two rocks, afore the Illirians were assembled in greater num­ber. The which thing they did so readily and cunningly, that they draue the Illirians thence, and by that means passed their armie in safetie.

The policie of Q [...]intius. Quintius vsed another sl [...]ight to scape another daunger wherein he was, when he saw himselfe hemmed in on all sides by his enemies. And this it was. He sent a cornet of Numidi­ans to skirmish with them: who plaid their part so well, that one while approching them, and another while recoiling, they deceiued their wards, and hauing so done fell to pilling and wasting the count [...]ie, which was the cause that the enemies drawing backe their garrison to chase the N [...]midian sorra­gers, gaue leasure to the Romans to scape the daunger where­in they were. Epaminondas, to turne away Agesilaus, and to keepe him from succouring the Man [...]ineans, to the rescue of whom he was come with all his power: d [...]p [...]ted from Te­goea one night, without any inckling thereof to the Mantine­ans, and went straight to Spart [...] by another way than Agesi­laus [Page 457] came, insomuch that he had surprised the citie Sparta a­fore they had any aduertisement of his comming. This feate caused Agesilaus to leaue the Mantineans, and to returne to Sparta in great hast. The policie of Artaxerxes. Artaxerxes being entred verie vnadui­sedly into the countrie of the Cadusians, where he was like to sterue for hunger, was beset by two kings, that had their ar­mies incāped asunder the one frō the other. Now Tiribasus ha­uing talked with king Artaxerxes, & hauing made him priuie what he ment to do, went vnto the one of those kings himself, and sent his sonne secretly to the other the same time, doing either of them to vnderstand, that his fellow had sent vnto Artaxerxes to desire peace in deceit of his companion. And therefore (quoth he) is you be wise, ye must get the forehand, and make speed afore the treatie be concluded, and for my part I will helpe you what I can. Both the kings beleeued his words, either of them thinking that his companion had ma­ligned him; insomuch that the one of them, sent his ambassa­dors vnto Artaxerxes immediatly with Tiribasus, and the o­ther likewise with his sonne, and so was peace concluded be­twixt them.

Eumenes also auoided a great danger, The policie of Eumenes. by a readie shi [...]t. His souldiers had set thēselues at large to passe the winter, against his will, and held almost threescore leagues of the countrie in length. Antigonus being aduertised thereof, determined to ouerrunne them, when they nothing suspected it, thinking it had beene hard to haue assembled them togither in small time. And to go vnperceiued, he tooke a rough and elendge way. But he was encountered with so hideous winds, and so great cold, that his men were constrained to [...]est themselues, and to make prouision against the rigour of the season. For the doing wherof they kindled great store of fires to warme them, the which being perceiued by those that were neerest, gaue warning thereof immediatly to the garrisons who were [...]ur­ther off from them, whereat they were all afraid. But Eumenes appeased this great feare by and by, in promising them that he would stop and stay that sodaine surprise, so as their ene­mies [Page 458] should be three dayes later in comming than they were looked for. Of the cōcea­ling of a mans feare. Thereupon he commaunded his captains, to as­semble their souldiers into a place certaine, and in the meane while he himselfe went to choose a place meet to encampe in, that might be plainly seene, vpon the top of a mountaine where his enemie should passe, in comming on the side of the wildernesse. Then fortified hee his trenches, and departed them in foure quarters, wherein he made good store of fires, in such distance one from another, as are woont to be made in a campe. This was no sooner done, but Antigonus came vnder the hill, who perceiuing the fires all along, was greatly displeased thereat, thinking that his enemies had been aduer­tised of his comming long afore, and that they were come to meet him. Wherefore fearing least he should be compelled, to come to battell with them being fresh & well rested, wher­as his men were wearie and halfe tired: he returned home an easier way. In the meane while Eumenes gathered his men to­gither at his leisure. Sometime a generall of a campe dissem­bleth his flight, and dislodgeth so secretly in the night, that his enemies are not ware of it till it be too late, as king Francis the first did, after he had vittailed Laundersey. And in this case he must make fires after the accustomed maner, and in such sort as they may not go out of a long time: he must set vp men of straw in the trēches with some motions, he must lay trunchiōs and bats of wood along the rampire, & leaue matches burning, as the marshall of Fois did at Parma, to the end it may be thought a far off, that they be harquebusses, & such like con­ceits as a mā may deuise. But the thing that may most deceiue the enemy, is the leauing of some horsmen to come last away, to occupie the vauntcurrors, in case that any be sent out to fol­low the taile of the host. The [...]eti [...]ing [...] day is d [...] ­gerous. But if the retreit be made by day, the daunger is far the greater, as saith Bellay in his Warlike disci­pline; because that when a generall retireth without fighting, he abateth the courage of his owne men, and giueth h [...]art to his enemies. For they that haue determined with themselues not to fight, and see their enemies charging vpon them, are [Page 459] in extreame feare, and do not any thing of value, as befell to the Frenchmen at Saint Quintins, and to the Spaniards at Zerbes, in the yeare a thousand fiue hundred and seuen and fiftie. For in either of those discomfitures, were mo men vn­done for not resoluing themselues to fight, than had beene if they had beene resolutely bent vnto it. The like hapned to Cleon chieftaine of the Athenians, against Brasidas chieftain of the Lacedemonians. Cleon went to view Amphipolis how to besiege it, not supposing that Brasidas would haue encounte­red him, neither had Cleon any desire that he should, because he had not his whole power with him, without the which he would not fight with him. But when he saw his enemies come vpon him to bid him battell, contrarie to his expectation, he gaue his men a token to retire, and so they did with al the hast they could. But when Brasidas saw his enemies begin to shrink, he had the more courage to presse vpō him. The which he did with such speed, that he ouercame him & got the victorie. He that will read the 11. chapter of the fift booke of Thucidides, shall find there a retreit, much resembling the retreit of the Frenchmen at Saint Quintins, and well neare a like discomfi­ture. Therfore a captaine must conceale from his souldiers, what feare he hath to fight, and giue them to vnderstand, that his retiring is not to eschue battell, but to draw his enemies in­to a more commodious place, and of more aduauntage: and he must leaue some horsemen in the face of his enemies, as wel to hide the departure of his footmen, as also to stay such as come to skirmish with them: and in any wise he must take the places of aduauntage and straits whereat his armie is to passe, as Hanniball did by the policie aforementioned, to the intent that the strait be not an impediment of the passing of his armie, and that it may serue to stop the enemies that would thrust into it to pursue him. Philopemen seeing himselfe too weake, made his retreit after that maner in the sight of his [...]ies, and put himselfe among the hindermost, to make head against the enemies, that his armie might march away th [...] more safely. And turning often his face [Page 460] vpon his enemies, he made them play so oft, that at last being farre disseuered from his troope, he was astonished to see him­selfe alone, intangled on all sides among a great number of his enemies, and in the end after long fighting was taken prisoner. The Romans hauing beene well curried, by the Parthians, and considering that they were not strong inough for them, resolued to retire. But they retired in good order and leasure­ly, and fought valiantly when the Parthians came to trouble them, alwaies making head vpon the enemie. But when they came to the discending of any hils and mountains that were rough and steepe, they were distressed by the Parthians, with the shot of their arrows, and with their darts, because the Ro­mans could not come downe but slowly step by step. Where­fore to saue themselues from those hail-stormes, The policie of the Romans. they deui­sed this shift. The legionarie souldiers caried ordinarily great pauesses, to couer those that were lightly armed. These they made to be set by them, and then kneeling downe on the ground with the one knee, they cast their pauisses before thē, and they of the second ranke couered the former sort with theirs, and the third ranke likewise couered the second, and so forth through out the rest, so as this maner of pauissing and couering one another, was made like the rowes of tiles on the side of a house roofe, and (to see to) resembled the greeces of a Theatre, so as the shot of the arrowes did but glaunce ouer them. The Parthians seeing this behauiour of the Roman le­gionaries, thought they had been tired with trauell, and ther­upon couching their launces, approched euen to handstrokes. Then the Romans stept quickly vpon foot, and with their Iaueli [...]s slue the formost of them, and put the rest to slight.

How to saue ones self when a battel is lost.When a battell is lost, the retreit is verie difficult, vnlesse there remaine a great surplusage of horsmen. For then may they retire making head, as the Swartrutters did at the battell of Mouncounter, and the Spaniards at Rauenna. But com­monly in a chase, euery man shifts for himselfe. And in this case the generall may vse dissimulation, when he knoweth that there is yet another power readie, as Sertorius did, who to [Page 461] procure meane of safe retire to his men that were disperpled, and to ioine them to a new power which he had caused to come, and to gather them all togither at their ease, fled open­ly to a certaine towne that was strongly situated, and fell in hand with fortifying it, as if he had ment to abide the siege there, for doubt least his enemies should come thither to find him out. The which they failed not to do. But as soone as he vnderstood that his people were in safetie, and the supplie of new force ready, he went out of the town to ioine his new for­ces togither, with the which he came backe againe to find his enemies. Neuerthelesse, the retiring into a towne, except it be defensible, and well prouided of vittels, is verie daungerous. Yet notwithstanding, sometime a man is constrained to retire thither, The policie of Agesilaus to scape out of a towne at the comming of his enemies. because he hath none other place of refuge, as it be­fell to Nectanebus king of Aegypt, who was compelled to saue himselfe in a fortresse, wherein he was by and by besieged by the pursuers, who forthwith began to make trenches round a­bout to keepe him in, by reason whereof Nectanebus would haue hazarded the small power that was left him, rather than yeeld himselfe by constraint of famin▪ if Agesilaus had not let­ted him. For he would haue no speech of fighting, vntill he saw the trenches almost finished, and that there was no great space betweene the two ends of them that they were not ful­ly met togither. And then he shewed Nectanebus how he might escape without daunger, because the trench should serue their turne, and be an impediment to the enemies, that the whole multitude of them should not runne vpon them at once, because it should gard them on either side, and by that means they should match them with equall number. And in deed as soone as the euening was shut in, they marched in or­der of battell out at the gap that was not entrenched, and ha­uing foiled the first that encountered them, they saued them­selues at ease.

Sometime a captaine saueth himselfe by the commodi­ous seat of his campe, A cawsey may serue for a retreat. as Agesilaus did; who in accompanying Nectanebus king of Egypt, was compelled to turne his backe [Page 462] vpon his enemie and to flee. Neere vnto his campe was a maris with a narrow cawsey, cast vp on both sides with brode and deepe ditches full of running water. He turned so long to and fro in his flight, that at length he drew a great sort of the enemies that lay vpon his hand, vnto the said cawsey, the which he passed, and afterward vpon the midst therof he sud­denly stopped their passage with the forefrunt of his battell, the which he made equall to the bredth of the cawsey, and thereby made the number of his people equall to the num­ber of his enemies, because they could no more come about him, neither on the sides, nor behind: by means whereof, after he had fought a while, he put them all to flight. Eumenes be­ing discomfited by Antigonus, and fleeing before him, tooke a path a little out of the way cleane contrarie to those that chased him, and trauelled so long, till he came againe to the field where the battell was fought. There he caused the bo­dies of his men that were slain in the battel, to be gathered vp and to be buried with the accustomed funerals, and also tooke him that had betraid him, whom he had pursued so freshly, that he gaue him no respit to retire to the enemies. And he might also haue taken all the stuffe and baggage of Antigonus, but that he thought it would be a let to his escaping.

CHAP. XVIII. Of Ambushes.

NOw must I speak of Ambushes, which diuerse times are the cause of the winning of a battell, and some­time of the taking of a citie, and are practised di­uersly, after as the places and occasions are offe­red. Hanniball excelled all captaines in that feat, Hanniball wan his victories by his wel lay­ing of am­bushes. and neuer fought battell without laying some Ambush. I speake of the iourney of Trebia, wherein he ouercame the Romans, by lay­ing his brother Mago in ambush in a wood with ten thousand men, that the Romans might be assailed both before and be­hind, [Page 463] when they thought least of it. Demosthenes being gene­rall of the Athenian armie, fearing to be inclosed by the Pe­loponnesians, who were farre stronger than he in number of men, [...]ent four hundred men to lie in ambush, in a faire greene way that was ouergrowne with bushes, commanding them to breake out when the battell was begun, and to lay vpon their enemies with maine blowes. As soone as the battell was once begun, and that the men which lay in stale, saw the Pelopon­nesians fetch about to haue inclosed the Athenians, they as­sailed them behind, so as they put them out of array, & finally to flight. When Brasidas discomfited the Athenians at Am­phipolis, he kept a good sort of men in store, who were of the citie, to fall vpon the enemies when they were in the hotest of the battell, saying that they which come suddenly to a con­flict, strike more fear and terror into them, than they that fight face to face. Selim woon the field of Acoma [...] his elder brother, by means of an ambush. For afore the battell, he sent his bro­ther in law Camolis with a thousand good horses, into a forrest neere hand, willing him to come out and assaile his enemies behind, when euerie man was most busie on all sides: and that onely thing woon him the battell. [...]or Acomat being a va­liant prince, entred violently euery where with a few men, and began to ouerthrow. Selims people: when suddenly Ca­molis came vpon him, and assailed his men behind, at such time as they fought best, and made them to turn towards him with great outcries. Then Selims footmen began to march close linked against Acomat. And Selims horsemen that were fled perceyuing that, returned to the battell, so as Acomats armie was enuironed on all sides, and cut in peeces.

Marius did as much to the Almans, by sending Marcellus to lie in a stale behind a little hill, as I haue said afore. Iulius Caesar vsed the like feate against the Swissers, by sending La­bienus with two legions in the night, to winne a certaine hill, when he was to shew himselfe the next morning in the field, to bid the Swissers battell. But the enterprise abode vnperformed, by reason that he was falsly aduertised, that the [Page 464] Gaules had taken the hill aforehand, which caused him to draw his armie backe. Hanniball hauing chosen a faire plaine, wherein there was a deepe vallie, and a certaine little hill, ve­rie aduauntageable for his armie, which had beene no hard matter for him to haue gotten; to the intent to draw Minutius to battel, left it indifferent for a bait to train his enemies to the encounter. And one night he couched a certaine number of his men of warre in those, and afterward at the breake of the day, sent a small troope to take the said hill: Minutius like­wise sent out his vauntcurrors, and after them all his men of armes, and finally when he saw Hanniball come thither in per­son, he himselfe also went thither with the rest of his armie, and gaue a great assault to haue driuen away those that de­fended the hill. Then Hanniball perceiuing that his enemie had cast himselfe into his nets, gaue the watchword to his men that were in ambush, who brake out with a great noyse vpon the taile of the Romans, of whom they slue a great num­ber at the first dash, and had put the rest out of aray, but for the readie succour of Fabius, who aided him at need, and wre­sted the victorie out of Hannibals hand. Insomuch that Han­niball sounding the retreit, said smiling to his friends, concer­ning Fabius: Did not I tell you that yonder cloud which we see houering vpon the top of the hils, would one day breake out into a stormie tempest, that should light vpon vs? Also Flaminius the Roman consul, was discomfited by a like policie. For Hanniball suffered him to win the passage that was in the hils aboue the lake of Trasimenus; but yet higher aboue thē, he had laid his men in ambush. Now beyond the passage that was kept (by the Romans) there was a faire plain, where Han­nibals armie was; so as the Romans being cooped vp, in a place where they had their enemies both before and behind, lost the battell.

The same Hanniball, perceiuing that Marcellus, neither by vanquishing, nor by being vanquished, could hold himselfe from troubling him, vsed this policie, when he saw him nie him. Betweene the two camps was a certain peece of ground [Page 465] of strong situation, & couered round about with bushes, & ther­in were high places where a man might discouer them far of to­wards both the camps, and at the foot of it ran m [...]ny springs and brookes; insomuch that the Romans marueled that Hanniball who was come first, had not seazed it. But his so doing, was for that it seemed to him a very fit place to lay [...]t [...]les in, to which purpose he chose rather to reserue it. Therefore he [...] the woods, the watersprings, and the valley throughout, with a good number of men of armes of all sorts, assuring himselfe that the place it selfe would draw the Romans thither; wh [...] [...] was not deceiued. For the two consuls Marcellus and Cri [...]p [...], went both thether with two hundred and twentie horses, to view the place. Which thing when the Carthaginenses perceiued, they suffered them to come on, vntil they were ful against them, and then suddainly stepping vp and winding Marcellus in, began to draw to him both with shot and with handblowes, so long til he lay dead vpon the ground, and his fellow being wounded to death, recouered to his campe by the swiftnesse of his horse, where he died by and by after. The countie of Anguien was dis­comfited almost after the same manner, as he would needs giue battell almost hard at the bars of Gaunt. For the men of Gaunt being desirous to intrap him, because he was valeant in battell, laid a hundred men in ambush for him without the towne, who hemmed him in so close when he was come a litle too forward, that there was no meane to saue him, and so fighting valeant­ly, he died vpon the field, [...] and all his men with him. Sometime a stale is made by occasion of a pretēded feare. As for exam [...]e▪ Hanniball taking occasion to flee, vpon the discomfi [...] [...] ten or twelue hundred of his men, withdrew himselfe be [...] the hils as a man dismaid, leauing in his camp [...] from whence he was d [...]lodged, great abundance of riches and vitte [...]: and d [...]p [...]r­ting in the night, left the burning fires in his campe, as [...] his meaning had ben to conceale his departure f [...]om the Ro­mans. But this trick was discouered by [...] it stood him, in no stead. Thomyri queene of the M [...]ssagets a [...]ter the destruction of hir army wherwith she lost hir sonne, had great reason to flee and to [...] the [...] [Page 466] that flight she made a bait, to draw Cyrus forth into the moun­tains, from whence it was not easie for him to get back againe; and so it came to passe. For Cyrus courageously pursuing the Queene, found himselfe hemmed in on all sides in the moun­tains, where he lost an armie of two hundred thousand men, and his owne life with them. The emperour Aurelian seeing his enemies too strong for him in horsemen, and better weaponed and armed than his, prohibited the Romane knights to abide the battell, and willed them to flee as soone as they were char­ged vpon, vntill they saw their enemies horses wearie and ti­red with the pursute; and then to turne head. The which thing they did so handsomely, that the emperour wan the vic­torie. Paulus Vitellius hauing beene troubled two whole daies together by the pesants on the coast of Genes, who flang stones and darts and shot arrowes at him from the hils, (yea and some of them were so bold as to come downe into the plaine and to fight with him): bethought himselfe to pre­tend as though he would saue himselfe by flight, and retired so farre, that he was chased in full race by infinit pezants. But when he saw his game at the best, he made all his troopes to mount on horsebacke, and to turne their faces; in­somuch that all at once they charged vpon the pezants of the mountaines and discomfited them. Secco a Florentine beeing desirous to draw Monfronk captaine of the Pisanes to battell, who of his owne nature was forward enough to it, laid an ambush betweene Bientina and Pisa, commanding them not to stir, vntill he gaue them their watchword. Then sent he foorth certaine light horsemen into the fields, euen into the view of the citie Pisa, who a long while pursued the forragers of Pisa. When Monfronk out of the higher part of the towne saw these forragers, and thē that did cōuoy them, to be pressed by the ouergreat number of them: he also made certaine of his light horsemen to go foorth, and anon he himselfe followed them with his men of armes and footmen. Secco did the like on his part, so as the fight was full, and well foughten. At length Secco of set pupose began to recoile and turne his backe, as it had ben for feare. Monfronk folowed after him liuely, not giuing [Page 467] him any respit to assemble his men together againe, vntill he came to the stale, where issued out men both on horsebacke and on foot, which so inclosed the Venetians and Pisanes on al sides, that hauing hemmed them in euery way, in the end they ouerthrew a great number of them. Mal [...]testa Balion, to make his enemies that were in garrison at Veron to fal into his snare, com­manded his Albans to go into the marches of Veron, and to gather all the cattell that they found, and to driue them towards the stale, which he had laid a good way off from thence. The which the Albans did with such noise, that the garrison of Ve­ron vnderstood it out of hand. Wherupon some of them moun­ted vpon their horses to pursue those robbers. The Albans to conceale their craft the better, did fi [...]st shock themselues on a heape, and begin to turn their backs and to driue the cattel afore them a full trot. Which thing when Succar (who made the salie out) perceiued, he made no nicenes to pursue with al the hast he could. Then Malatesta who waited for them vnder the couert of certain trees, did suddainly giue a watchword to assaile them, and therwith all running ouerthwart in an open path, assailed his enemies behind as they pursued his men exceeding whotly; and enuironing them on all sides, The policy of Bert [...]am of Guesclin. did put them to the foile. Ber­tram of Guesclin perceiuing the Englishmen were come to suc­cor the men of Sireth, and doubting least the townsmen would make some salie out by reason of their comming, held himselfe still in his camp, forbidding any man to stir, without his comman­dement. In the mean while, he laid an ambush of two hundred men, and then went to pull down the pales that were about the towne, that the townesmen might the easlier issue out, which disappointed not his hope at all. For there issued out about a threescore of them, hoping that they which were without, would haue set vpon the Frenchmen behind, as soone as they heard the bickering: but it was quite otherwise. For being enuironed by them that lay in the ambush, they were all either slaine or taken, asore the Englishmen wist it. The maior of Rochell intending to put the citie into the kings hand, bethought him of this policie. He told the captaine of the campe, that he had receiued letters from the [Page 468] king of England, wherby he was commanded to take musters both of the townesmen and of the garrison. This letter well sea­led, was shewed to the captain of the castle, who knew the kings seale, but could not read. The maior made semblance to read the letter, which contained no such thing as he spake, and yet neuertheles he red it as boldly as if it had ben written, clean contrary to the tenor of the writing. According to this com­mandement, the next morrow euery man was readie with his armor and weapon in the place appointed, and the captain of the castle sent thither threescore men well furnished, reseruing not past a dosen or fifteene men to keepe the castle? Now the maire had aforehand laid two hundred men in ambush behind the old wals & houses of the town, which were not far from the castle. When they of the garrison were a little gone forth, they found themselues inclosed by the townsmen wel armed, and in great number before, and by them that lay in the ambush be­hind, so as they could not return into the castle, and the captain who with so few men was not able to resist them, was faine to yeeld himselfe. Constantine being imbarked at Pirey, The ambush of Constantine. to giue bat­tel to Licinius that was at Adrianople, pretended to make a bridg ouer the riuer Ebron, and to that end prepared a great quantitie of timber, to busie his enemies about the keeping of that passage, while he bestowed fiue thousand men secretly in ambush in a wood. As soone as they were passed, he himselfe also passed the riuer with a few men at a shallow foord, causing al the rest of his army to march leisurely after him, and he with those few men that he had, assailed his enemies vpon the suddain vnpro­uided, by which taking of them vnawares, he did maruelously astonish them. But when they that lay in ambush shewed them­ [...]elues, then was there nothing but running away; insomuch that all the host of Licinius was ouerthrowne, and foure and thirtie thousand of his men were slain in the field. The Enthalits see­ing themselues ouerlaid by the Persians, made countenance to flee to the mountains, among the which there was a faire large way that had no way out, but was enuironed with hils. Now the Enthalites in small number fled continually before the Persians, towards the greater part of their armie, the [Page 469] which they had laid in ambush in those hils, where shewing themselues suddainly on all sides, they made the Persians to a­gree to what conditions they listed. Charles of Aniou being greatly incumbered in resisting Conradine, The good counsell of A­lard to Charles duke of An­iou. who was entred with great power into the realme of Naples, found in very good sea­son, an old French knight named Alard, that came frō Hierusa­lem. By whose counsel Charles ordered his army in such sort, that he made three squadrons; wherof the first two were led in the plaine by the Palentine, the one marching a mile before the o­ther, and therof was chieftaine Philip of Mountfort marshall to Charles of Aniou, apparelled and attired like a king, with the standards of Charles. And in the second squadron was the said Philip of Mounfort. In the third squadron, which was of the men of most valor, marched Charles himselfe, and this squadron lod­ged in a little valley vnderneath the enemies. Alard did set him­selfe vpon the hill of Alba, betweene the valley and the plaine, to giue order to all euents as need should require. Conradine on his side had two squadrons, much stronger than the squadrons of Charles, wherby the formost squadron of Charles was so well handled, that Philip of Mountfort was fain to aduance his squa­dron forward to the rescue therof, and by that means was driuen to sustain the battell three houres, without stirring out of that place, and yet in the end was discomfited and slaine. Vpon the brute of whose death, it was beleeued that king Charles himself had ben dead; insomuch that his men taking it to haue bin so, be­took themselues to flight. By reason wherof Conradines souldiers fell to rifling out of order, insomuch that euen his guard ran to the spoile, and left him all alone, accompanied with a few pages and other people vnfit for war. Alard seeing from the hill this fit occasion to do some good exploit, caused Charles to go out of his little valley well and close set in battelray, and with great vi­olence to charge vpon his enemies loden with preies and in great disorder, whom he had no great ado to break asunder: in­somuch that they were all slain, taken, or wounded; and by that good counsell Charles abode maister of the field. The duke of Guise did the like at the battell of Dreux, as I haue said afore. For when he saw that the prince of Condie was rushed into the [Page 470] battell, where the constable was who was taken: he stood still and would neuer stir to rescue the others, but waited still to see them in some greater disorder, vntill they fell to the spoile, as if they had won all. A policy of Sertorius. And then he rushed vpon them so boistously, that within a while he was maister of the field. Metellus finding himselfe short of vittels at the siege of the Lagobrits, sent Aqui­ni [...] with six thousand men, to recouer some vittels. Sertorius be­ing aduertised therof, laid an ambush for his returne, in a valley couered with wood, where he bestowed three thousand men in wait to set vpon him on the back, while he himselfe assailed him on the face. By this means he put him to flight, and tooke the most part of his men prisoners, so as Metellus was driuen to leuie his siege with dishonor. The Spaniards being within Pauie, made a salie out vpon Iohn Medices, and foiled his guard. To haue reuenge herof, Iohn Medices laid a double ambush, the one in ditches neere the town, and the other further of. The Spani­ards spared not to make another saly out; and when they had chased those good fellows a good way, they perceiued the am­bush a far off, wherwith they began to retire. But their way was cut off by the other ambush that was laid neerer the town, inso­much that finding themselues assailed both waies at once, they had no meane to saue themselues, but were all put to the sword.

CHAP. XIX Of the taking of Towns.

THere are diuerse manners of taking of towns, either by force or by policy. We will treat here of policies, and onely of some such policies as the men of old time haue vsed. For new be daily de­uised, the which I ouerpasse with si­lence, because it were vnmeet for me, to giue counsell to such as haue bin at them and seene them, and haue inuented and practised them. Sometime great speed, and suddain comming vnlooked [Page 471] for, giue occasion of the taking of a towne, as it did to Demetrius at the citie of Athens, The policie o [...] Demetrius. which had receiued the garrison of Ptolo­mie; whom Demetrius was desirous to expulse, to the intent that Ptolomie shuld not pruaile against him in so great a citie. Wher­fore he rowed thither so swiftly with his gallies, that he was seene there ere his comming was heard of. Insomuch that Ptolo­mies garison, supposing they had bin Ptolomies gallies, went out to receiue them. But perceiuing too late what they were, they had no way to defend thēselues; for Demetrus was come within the hauen, the entrance whereof he had found wide open. And to bring his enterprise the easilier to passe, he made proclamation by the sound of a trumpet, that his father Antigonus had sent him to deliuer the Athenians from all garrisons, and to set them free: the which thing caused the Athenians to turn vnto him, & to yeeld him the town, so as the garrison was put away, and they were set at libertie. Nicias intending to lay siege to Siracuse, sent a man of Catana thither as a spie, to tell them that if they would take the campe of the Athenians vnawares, they should come with all their power towards Catana at a certain day that he ap­pointed, because the Athenians would for the most part of the time be within the citie, wherein there were a number of natu­ral citizens, which fauoring the affairs of Siracuse, were determi­ned to seaze the gates of the citie as soone as they perceiued the Siracusanes to approch, and at the same time to set fire vpon the ships of the Athenians; and there were a great sort of the towns men of that confederacie, who did but wait for the day & houre of their comming. By this policie he made the Siracusanes to come out into the fields with al their power, so as they left their citie vtterly empty, & he in the mean season departing frō Cata­na with al their fleet, took the hauen of Siracuse at his ease, and chose a place to plant his camp in, where his enemies could not indomage him. The Athenians hauing secret conference with some of the citie Megara, ceised one of the gates afore dailight, by the which the citisens were woont to take in a Brigantine, which they sent a nights to scoure the sea, & afore day brought it in again vpō a chariot, within the inclosure of the wals, which went frō the city to Nisey, where was their hauē, which was the [Page 472] cause that the gate could not be shut so soone, but that the A­thenians ceised it, and mounted vpon their wals, giuing a push to take their citie. But the garrison of the Peloponnesians arriued there in that instant, who had beene a sufficient impediment to the Athenians, if the Athenians had not bethought them to make proclamation by the sound of a trumpet, That al the Me­garians which would yeeld themselues to the Athenians and lay away their weapons, should be saued. Which thing whē the Peloponnesians heard, fearing least all the townesmen had bin of that confederacie, they forthwith forsooke the sea, and saued themselues at Nisey. Alcibiades tooke the citie Celibrie in Hel­lespont, by intelligence with some of the citizens, but not with­out some perill of his owne person, yea and to his confusion, if he had not remedied the matter quickly. He should haue bin neere the citie by a certaine houre, and for his watchword a burning cresset should haue bin put vp about midnight: But they that were within, were constrained to put vp their token afore the houre, for feare of one of the confederacie, who repented him of his doing. Which token when Alcibiades perceiued, although he had not his troopes readie, yet would he not let slip the occa­sion, but taking with him thirtie men, and appointing his troopes to follow him with all speed possible, ran streight to the walles. There was he receiued, and the gate opened vnto him, where­into he entered with his 30. men, and 20. others that came by chance. But they were no sooner entred, but they heard the townsmen cōming in arms against them, so as there was no like­lihood that he should haue escaped if he taried there. On the otherside he was loth to flee, and leaue the taking of the towne. Wherfore he aduised himself vpon the sudden, The policie of Alcibiades. to cause silence to be made by the sound of a trumpet; and when the noise was appeased, he made it to be proclaimed, that the Celibramians should not take weapon against the Athenians. This did some­what cool those that were desirous to fight, because they doub­ted least all the armie of the Athenians had bin alreadie with­in the citie. And so as they were parlying, the rest of his armie came in, by means whereof he became master of the towne. Al­so he vsed another policie to get Bizance, which is now called [Page 473] Constantinople. For lying in siege afore the citie, he had secret intelligence with two of the towne, which had promised to be­tray it vnto him. To bring this enterprise to passe, he made a shew to leuie his siege, and to go his way into Ionie with great dili­gence, for some that had made an insurrection there. And in ve­rie deed he departed in the open day with all his gallies: but the same night he returned back againe, and comming on land with his men that were best armed, approched near the wals without making any noise. And he had appointed the rest of his men that were in the ships, that in the meane while they should with all speed row into the hauen▪ and there make as great noise as they could, to the intent that the Bizantines should draw thi­therward. In which meane time he himselfe by the helpe of his intelligencers, entred the citie and woon it, howbeit not without fighting. As Robert of Artois besieged Vannes, The policie of Robert of Artois. he caused an as­sault to be giuen in three places at once, and the assault endured all the day long. At night euery man retired; and the French men put off their armor to rest and refresh themselues. But Ro­bert of Artois suffred not his men to vnarme them, but onely to rest them a litle, and to eat and drinke. Afterward hauing set his three battels in order, he began the assault againe in two places, commanding the third battell to stand still, vntill it were time to depart: and because it was night, the assailants had kindled so great fires, that they which waked on the sudden, went right whether soeuer they saw the fires, without attending any com­maundement of the captain, and without putting themselues in order. During the time that euery mans hands were full, the third battel chose another part of the town vnfurnished of war­ders, and there setting vp store of ladders, did so much that they entred the citie, and put the whole garrison of Vannes to flight. The earle of Derby perceiuing that he could not win the citie of Naunts by assault, The earle of Derbies p [...] ­p [...]licie. vsed this policy by the aduice of one Alex­ander of Chaumount, a Gascoin. In the morning he made coun­tenance to dissodge, leauing onely a hundred men behind vnder the leading of the lord Wentworth, telling thē what they shuld do. And in a couert vally not far from the towne, he laid a stale. The men of Naunts ran with 400 men vpon the 100: who reti­ring [Page 474] to the passage, drew the Frenchmen into the ambush. And when they were passed, one companie went right to the towne, and took the gates which they found open, (for the Frenchmen thought them to haue beene their owne men,) and they that is­sued out were inclosed both afore and behind, and vtterly ouer­thrown. The Seneschal of Beauquere vnderstanding that great store of rother beasts should passe by the towne of Athenie, sent threescore men to driue them, and in the mean while lay in am­bush himselfe neere the towne. The Englishmen with the more part of the garrison of the towne, ran to the rescue, so farre that they fell into the ambush, who chased the Englishmen so lusti­ly, that they defeated them euery chone, and therwithall went streight forth to the towne, the which they tooke by assault, for want of men to resist them. Lucullus purposing to take the Mite­lenians by policie, A policie of Lucullus. besieged them with maine force. Then sud­denle in the open day, and in the sight of the townes-men, he mounted vpon the sea, and rowed towards the citie Elea. But in the night he returned back sectetly, and without making any noyse, couched himselfe in ambush neere the towne. The Mi­tilenians doubting nothing, went out vnaduisedly, and without order the next morning; and without standing vpon their gard, went to rifle the campe of the Romanes. But Lucullus step­ping out suddenly vpon them, tooke a great number of them prisoners, and slue about fiue hundred that stoode at defence, and wan about six thousand slaues. Fredericke vsed another poli­cie to get Saminimat. A policie of Frederick Bar­barossa. It happened that he had receiued a great losse before Parma, where his armie was ouerthrowne, and he was faine to take the way of Tuscan for to returne into his realme of Naples. There was no likelihood that he minded thē of Saminimat, that had plaid the traitors and rebels against him, neither was he determined to rest there. But to compasse them without great paine or studie, he dissembled their treason, and chose a number of his best, most couragious, and most loyall sol­diers, whom he caused to be chained together as if they had bin prisoners. The which being done, he caused his mules to be lo­den with a great sort of hampers, full of all kind of armor and ar­tillerie, and couered them with the same sumpterclothes, wher­with [Page 475] the sumpters of his chamber were woont to be couered. These prisoners so made at the instant, he sent vnto Saminima­to, with Peter of the Vineyard, his steward of houshold, secre­tarie and chauncelor, who had the whole gouernment thereof, and was a prisoner in deed, accompanied with messengers of credence, which should declare vnto the inhabitants of the towne, that the emperour hauing not a more loyall towne, seut them those prisoners men of importance, and his preciousest stuffe with them, praying them to keepe them carefully till his returne, because that being now on his way into his king­dome of Naples, he would not be troubled with such baggage. The men of Saminimato seeing the emperour in armes round about them, made good countenance, notwithstanding that they mistrusted thēselues to be bewraid, and thereupon shew­ing themselues verie obedient, receiued all the traine with good cheere, causing them all to come into the citie. When the souldiers of Fredericke saw their conuenient time, they cast off their chaines, (which were disposed in such sort as they might vnlinke them when they list) and out of hand taking them to their weapons, wan the gates, whereat they let in the empe­rour Fredericks armie, so that the towne was yeelded to his o­beysance.

The Slauonians vsed another policie to take another town. There approched a certaine of them to the wals, so few in shew as were not sufficient to take the towne, and yet did they in­continently giue an assault. They that were within beholding the small number of them, ran out vpon them, & folowed bea­ting them a good way off from the towne. And when they were a sufficient farnesse, the residue shewed themselues behind them, and slue a great sort of them, so as they could not re­couer into the citie againe. Then the Slauonians comming to the assault, entered at ease, because there were none but the citizens left to defend the towne. The king of Portugall per­ceiuing how the Britons that were within Feroll in Castile, made often salies out; laid fiftie men in ambush, and a three daies after, went with a few men and skirmished hard at the barriers of the towne. The Britons failed not to come out [Page 476] against him, and pursued the Portugals so hard, that they tooke about fiue and twentie of them, and were fain to open the bar­riers wide, to let in the prisoners, and to let out those that pur­sued them. At length, they that lay in ambush, riding as fast as they could, right to the barriers, and making themselues masters of them, entred mingled with the Britons into the towne. The men of Capua being desirous to receiue the Imperials into the citie, and to expulse the Frenchmen, willed the Imperials to lay themselues in ambush neere the towne, and when they knew them to be laid, they would persuade the Frenchmen to make a rode out of the citie, to fetch vittels afore they were more straitly besieged. The Frenchmen perceiuing their reason to be apparant, went out to do so. But when they came backe againe, they found the gates shut, and vnderstood that the Capuans had receiued the Imperials in at another gate. Sertorius vsed an other policie to win the Characitanians, A policie of Sertorius. which did nothing but rob him, and spoile him, and mocke him without feare, because they retired themselues into rocks and caues that could not be come vnto. He considered that right against their caues, there was a light clay that fell to dust like sand, the which the northwind blowing full into their caues, did ordinarily carie vp that in dust, and driue it into their dens. When Sertorius had de­tected this in himselfe, and vnderstood by the inhabitants of the countrie therabouts, that the like was don customably: he com­maunded his men to gather togither a great quantitie of that light earth, and thereof to make a huge mount right against their caues. When this great mount was finished, he made his horsmen trot vp and down on it, and anon the wind taking the dust as soone as it was raised from the ground, caried it full into their caues, striking it right into the eies and eielids of them. Wherby their eies were stopped, and their caue was filled with a hote and sultrie aire. Insomuch that being not able to take breath but with great paine, they submitted themselues the third day after to his discretion. When a man hath taken a ci­tie, it is not enough to enter into it, and to sacke it, except he set a good guard at the gates, for feare of afterclaps; as befell to the Castilians in Spaine, who with the helpe of the Grisenians, re­belled [Page 477] against the Romans for their ill vsing of them, and slue a good sort of them. As soone as Sertorius heard the vprore, by and by he gat him out of the towne with a few of his men, and assembling togither such as were escaped, returned againe to the towne, and finding the gate still open, whereat the Griseni­ans were entered in, he slipped in also, and setting a good gard at the gates, (in which point the Grisenians had ouershot them­selues) and in other parts of the towne, did put all to the sword that were of yeares to weare armour. Then apparelled he his soldiers, in the apparell and armour of those whom he had slain, and went in that maner to the citie of the Grisenians, from whence those came by whom they were surprised by night. The Grisenians thinking at the sight of their owne furniture, that they had beene their owne men, opened them their gates, and went out to meet them as their friends, whom they thought to haue dispatched their matters verie well. So the Romans slue a great number hard at the gates of their citie; and the rest yeelding themselues to the mercie of Sertorius, were by him sold. At such time as the prince of Orenge sacked the citie of Rome, Guy Ran [...]on came to the gates with his light horses, and eight hundred harqu [...]buzers, thinking to haue gone in to de­fend it: but when he vnderstood those newes, he retired backe. Many were of opinion, that (considering the disorder of the Im­perials,) if he had entered in by the castell (which was vn­garded) he might haue done some notable feat, or at leastwise he had deliuered the Pope. But (as it is commonly said) little woteth a man what is done in his enemies host; and it had bin a great hazard, to haue put himself in daunger with so few men, against so great a number of enemies. Bellisarius perceiuing that he could not win Panormus by land, A policie of Bellisarius. made his ships to come in­to the hauen: Then hauing manned certaine small vessels with crossebowes, he made them to mount vp into the tpps, (the which were high [...]r than the wall) and from those small ships to shoot incessantly at the townsmen, whom they saw lie open; insomuch that the townesmen seeing themselues so greatly annoyed by them, were faine to yeeld the towne to Bellisarius. A policie of the lord of Estourne [...] The Lord of Estourney surprised the towne of Audenard in this [Page 478] maner. He laid foure hundred chosen men in ambush, neere the gate of Graundmount. Then sent he two chariots laden with prouision, and foure souldiers apparelled like carters to driue the chariots, wel armed vnder their apparell, who feigning them selues to come out of Henault, caused the great gate to be ope­ned vnto them. Now when they came vpon the bridge, they staied, and plucked out the taypinnes that held the traces. The warders being offended at their long tarying, tooke the horses by the heads to make them go, but the chariots abode behind, because the horses were loosned. Then the warders perceiuing themselues to be deceiued, began to strike the carters, who de­fended themselues so well, that they slue two of the warders. In the meane while the lord of Estourney hauing good leysure to approch, came at the instant, and tooke the gate, whereby he became master of the town. If they that enterprised to take the citie of Turin in the yeare 1542, had so vnyoked their oxen, or turned a chariot within the gate, the towne had bin lost. For it was saued alonely by the letting downe of the portcullis, which stopped a ten or twelue hundred men that came in good array, while those that were entred into the town in chariots couered with hay, were fighting at the gate, and at the place. The citie of Ortingas was taken after that maner. Peter of Auchun, who lay in garrison at Lourd, sent in the moneth of May, two good souldiers apparelled like seruingmen, to seeke masters in the towne. They had not beene long there, but they were prouided of marchantmen: whom they serued so well, that their seruice was verie well liked. About the middest of August, a faire was kept in that towne, wherevnto many marchant strangers resor­ted. Now while the townesmen bought and sould, and made good cheere, Peter of Auchun went out about midnight, and laid himself in ambush vvithin a vvood neere the towne, hauing sent six men afore vvith two scaling ladders, vvhereby they en­tred secretly into the towne, by the helpe of the two souldiers, while their masters was drinking. As soone as they were entred, the two soldiers brought thē to the gate where was the bodie of the gard ready to set forward assoon as they should whistle thē. Herewithal the two seruing mē knocked at the gate, telling the [Page 479] warders that their master had sent them for good wine. The warders knowing them opened the gate, and suddenly at a vvatchword, the other six souldiers came running thither and slue the warders. This being done, they tooke the keyes of the gate, and did let downe the bridge so softly, that no man percei­ued it. As soone as the bridge was downe, they began to sound a blast of deceit, whereat, Peter of Auchun and his companie set forward, tooke the bridge, and made himselfe master of the towne. To famish the citie of Athens, Lisander vsed this deuise. After he had ouercome the Athenians by sea, The policie Lysander. he determined to lay siege to Athens. But afore the doing thereof, he went with his fleet to all the sea-townes, where he commaunded vpon paine of death, that as many Athenians as were there, should get them home to Athens, which thing he did vpō a po­licy, to pester them vp close togither within the wals of Athens, that they might the sooner be famished; and so it came to passe. For whereas he was not able to ouercome them by force, he suffered them to rest a while, and afterward when he knew that vittails began to wax scant, he besieged them so nar­rowly, that they were faine to yeeld the citie to the Lacede­monians.

To attempt the taking of the rocke of Vandois which was impregnable, the vicount of Meaus laid a stale of 1200 men in a caue neare the fort, and sent others to skirmish with them at their bars, charging them that if any came out of the towne a­gainst them, they should retire softly vntill they came to the stale. The Frenchmen failed not to make countenāce, but went slowly to the skirmish, as if they had beene men vnwilling and smally trained, which thing gaue courage to Guion du sel (who had the gouernment of the fort in the absence of Amerigoll Marcell) to sallie out with certaine of the garrison. And he cha­sed the Frenchmen so farre, that he was inclosed betweene their ambush and their campe, so as he could not saue himselfe, nor any of his companie. Whereupon the Frenchmen appro­ched nearer the castell, and told him that he and all his compa­nions should die, if the [...]ortresse were not yeelded, and that if it were yeelded, they should all be saued. They that were within [Page 480] perceiuing that they were like to lose the best men of all their companie, yeelded themselues at his persuasion. The earle of Arminak was discomfited almost after the same sort by Iaques of Berne, before Alexandria: which was the cause that the siege of Alexandria was broken vp.

CHAP. XX. Of the defending of Townes.

THere is not so great a mischief, but there is a remedie for it. And as the common saying is, Well assailed, well defended. For when he that is within a towne, knoweth that another would haue it: then by good watch and carefull dili­gence, he keepeth himselfe from being taken on the sudden. And if he be ad­uertised of his enemies comming, he doth what he can to keepe them from comming neere the ditches, vntill the greatnesse of their number enforce him to retire. The like is done when a ci­tie is to be assailed by sea and by land. For he that is within, doth either by force or by policie impeach their landing as much as he can, as did that gallant pyrat named Franday, at Port Ve­nerie. The Arragonians intending to haue taken that place vp­on the gate toward the sea, approched with the prowes of their gallies to the hauen, to haue set their soldiers a land. But Fran­day had caused the great stones, whereupon they were to leape, in comming downe from their gallies, to be besmeared with greace, so as the most part of them fell downe through the slip­pernesse of their footing, and the cumbersomnesse of their ar­mor, among the stones which were verie high. Sometimes a citie is in hard case, for that they cannot certifie their state by reason of the straitnesse of the siege. A pol [...]ie of the Gothes. In this case they must do as the Gothes did, who being straitly besieged by Bellisariu, and not able to giue intelligence of their distresse to Vitigis, made a great noise one midnight: whereat Bel [...]sarius wondring, [Page 481] and fearing some ambush or treason, commanded that euery man should stand vpon his guard, without remouing out of his place. While Bellisarius was thus musing, more to gard himselfe than to looke to the wals of his enemies: the Goths sent out two men, The policy o [...] Bellisarius. to giue knowledge to Vitigis in what state they stood. But Bellisarius did yet much better when he himselfe was besieged in Rome. For vvhen he vnderstood that succors were comming to him, fearing least the Goths should set vpon them by the vvay; he caused a certaine vvall, vvherwith one of the gates of the citie vvas dammed vp, to be beaten downe in the night, and set a good number of men of vvar at it, causing a thousand horse­men to issue out at one of the other gates, whom he cōmanded to returne to the same gate againe vvhen they vvere charged by their enemies. Now vvhile they vvere in hand vvith their e­nemies, Bellisarius vvent out vvith a great power at the gate that vvas towards the sea, vvhereof his enemies had no mi­strust, and easily putting those to flight that encountered him on that part, he vvent on till he came right against the other gate, vvhere he assailed his enemies behind, as they vvere figh­ting vvith his men that had issued out first, in vvhich conflict many of his enemies vvere slaine; vvho being sufficiently occu­pied in defending themselues, gaue leisure to the Greekes to ioine vvith the armie of Bellisarius, vvithout any let. Sometimes there is scarcetie of vittels in a towne, so as it needeth to be vit­telled. And therfore he that hath the charge therof, seeketh by all means to get some in, vvithout the enemies priuitie. Bellisa­rius intending to vittell the citie of Rome, which was streitlie besieged by the Gothes, vnder the leading of Totilas; deuised this shift. Totilas had made two towers of timber to be builded vpon a bridge ouer the riuer Tiber, to keepe men from com­ming to Rome by water. And without the ouerthrowing of these towers, there was no way to passe. To do it by plaine force it was not possible for him, for he had too few men. Wherfore he took two lighters, and ioined them togither with rafters: vp­on the which he builded a tower of timber, of equall heigth to the other two; vpon the top wherof he had a little boate full of pitch and brimstone. After this tower boat followed two hun­dred [Page 482] other boats couered ouer with boord, and made full of loope holes, that his men standing surely fenced in them, might shoot at their enemies. Within those boats he put great abun­dance of vittels garded by the choisest of his souldiers, by whom vpon either banke of the riuer (as neere as might be) he sent of his souldiers both on horsebacke and on foot. When he came at the towers of the bridge, he cast vpon them the said little boat that was full of brimstone, which immediatly burned vp the towers and the two hundred men that were within them. In the meane while the Romans brake downe the bridge, and made way for the litters that conueied the vittels, the which had out of all doubt gone forth to the citie, had it not ben for the fault of Isaces one of Bellisarius captains, who by his rash go­ing out of the hauen towne of Ostia, contrarie to Bellisarius ap­pointment, was discomfited and taken prisoner by the Goths. For Bellisarius being abashed therat, and thinking that the towne it selfe had ben taken, wherin was his wife and all his mouables, returned suddainly back thither, without accomplishing his en­terprise. Sometimes either men or monie be to be conueyed in­to a towne; To get vittels or mony into a citie. in whch behalfe example may be taken at the do­ings of Bellisarius: who bearing that monie was brought him from Constantinople, to the intent that the bringer thereof should not be taken by the Goths that besieged him in Rome, caused a report to be noised, that he would giue battell to the Goths. In the meane while he sent out two hundred horsmen to safecundit the monie, and the next morning caused his men to go out and raunge themselues in battel-ray; and the Gothes did likewise. At noone he caused his men to dine, and in the afternoone fell to skirmishing, so that while they were bicke­ring so together, Attalius that brought the monie, entered in­to Rome without any daunger. The duke of Guise vnderstan­ding the distresse wherein the Marshall of the March was, within Peron, for want of men and poulder; departed from Han with two hundred men of armes and foure hundred chosen harquebusers, and comming by night neere the campe of his enemies, led his harquebusers secretlie and without noise to the side of the marris: and hauing with him all the trumpets [Page 483] that he could get together, did suddainly giue an alarme to all parts of the emperors camp, so as they tooke them to their wea­pons. During this great alarme, which letted the enemies to in­tend to any thing else, or to heare the flashing of the water through the which the dukes mē went, the harquebusers were receiued into the towne, euery of them carrying vpon his neck, a bag of poulder weying ten pound. The viceroy of Naples and Antonie de Leua, to conuey monie into Pauie, procured two men whom they trusted, to carrie foure hoggesheads of wine to sell, to the French campe that besieged the towne, within the which hoggesheads were three thousand French crownes. And for the selling of their wine, they went, and lodged as neer the towne as they could. Antonie de Leua being aduertised ther­of, made a sallie out on another side, and while they were bu­sie at the skirmish, one of his men brake the hoggesheads and tooke away the three thousand crownes, with the which he saued himselfe in the towne. Sometime sallies are made of pur­pose to surprise the enemies in their campe, as the Siracusans did at the campe of the Athenians. But Nicias to remedie the daunger speedily, commanded fire to be put to wood, and to the engines that he had made to beate the towne, which doing caused the Siracusans to stay, because that when they saw so great a flame in the aire betweene them and the Fort, they returned out of hand to the towne. Many times they that are besieged haue scarcitie of water, and by that means are in daunger to yeeld themselues, if it be not prouided for, as Se [...]torius was in perill to haue doone to the Lagobrits. Who caused two thousand. Goats skinnes to be filled with water, promising a good sum of monie for the bringing of euery skinne. The which thing manie men vndertooke. And there­withal he gaue commaundement at the deliuering of the bags, that all vnnecessarie mouthes should foorthwith depart out of the towne, that the water might serue them the lon­ger, vvhich abode to defend the towne. Sometimes skirmi­shes are made to vex the besiegers, that they may be made to breake vp their siege; A sally of the Englishmen. and such sallies doe erewhiles turne to the vvinning of a battell, as befell to the Englishmen [Page 484] vnder the conduct of the earle of Derbie before Amberoch. Who hauing laid a thousand men in ambush in a wood, and be­ing aduertised that succours were comming to the besieged, went together vpon the Frenchmen and defeated them. This discomfiture came of the Frenchmens disdaining of the En­glishmen, for the small number of them, whom they thought not to haue bin so bold, as to haue assailed them, by reason wher­of, they stood not vpon their guard. As much befell the Athe­nians, who were ouerthrowne by Brasidas, because they despi­sed him for the small number of his men, not looking that he durst to haue encountered them. But Brasidas taking this their skornfulnes for an occasion to do some good exploit, did set vp­on them vnawares, and discomfited them. Mariu [...] did as much to the Carthaginenses, after the discomfiture of the Scipios. For he coniecturing that they would be negligent and disdain him, tooke them vnprouided. The Suissers did as much to the Frenchmen, by the aduice of Martin their coronell, who told them that the Frenchmen comming but to haue a lod­ging, looked for nothing lesse than the comming of the Suissers, and that the accidents that happen vnlooked for and vnforseen, do soonest ouertake men. According to which counsell, they assailed the Frenchmen and ouercame them. Wherefore the surest way is, not to despise the enemie, but to stand warily vpon ones guard. Nothing is so dangerous as an enemy vn­distrusted. For nothing is so daungerous, as an enemie vnmistrusted. Necessitie draue Leopold to make a sallie out against VValter Brenne, the which fell out well and happily on his side: For he discomfited those that had besieged him, and tooke the countie of Brenne prisoner, as I haue said in another place. But to returne to our mat­ter againe. Oliuer of Clisson and sir VValter Mannye, hauing intelligence that Lewis of Spaine meant to cut off the heads of Iohn Butler and Hugh Fresnoy; vsed this policie to saue them from that inconuenience. They had ben long besieged within Hannibout by Charles de Blois. Now one day about dinnertime, they issued out of the towne with a thousand men, and went with great force to assaile the campe of Charles de Blois, so that all of them were at the [Page 485] alarme, and drew towards the trenches where the fight was sharpe and hard on both sides. In the chiefest of the fight, Wal­ter Manny and Oliuer Clisson issued secretly out at a little postern, and came on the backside of the host vnperceiued, to the tent of Charles de Blois, where the said Butler and Fresnoy were, whom when they had recouered, and had mounted them on two cour­sers which they had brought thether of purpose, they returned againe to Hannibout the same way they came out. Reuze being besieged in Crescentine by Siluius, and finding occasion to in­uade his enemies on their right side, which was not fortified with any trench or rampire, because of a marris which had no comming to it but by a broken causey, coniectured that his ene­mies would misdoubt nothing that way, wherefore couering the marris in the night-time with hurdls and planks, he caused his footmen to passe ouer, and he himselfe staied in a conueni­ent place with his horsmen, to succor them if need were. In which time the footmen quitted thēselues so wel, that they slue the skoutwatch, and then passing on to the camp, threw wild fire vpon the vvarders half asleepe, and vpon the souldiers lodgings that vvere nearest, which they had brought with them closed in trunks of wood. Insomuch that their tents were burned in the turning of a hand, and the fire glistering through all the campe in the night, strake such a terror into the souldiers so assailed both with sword, and vvith the fire that was cast incessantly out of the trunks and firepots; that vvithout any regard of Silui­os commandement, they fled thicke and threefold, to shun the fire. By reason vvherof the Venetians falling vpon those dis­maied people, defeated a great part of them; and bending their artillerie vpon them tha [...] fled, killed a great number of them, and so returned with a verie great bootie of horse and men. The Plateians being streitly besieged by the Peloponnesians, and hopelesse of all succour, found this shift to get out of the towne. The Peloponnesians had made a double wal about the citie Plateia, one towards the towne to keepe them from com­ming out, and the other along the side of the camp, to keep the succours of the Athenians from going in, which walles were di­stant sixteene foot asunder. Betweene the two walles were the [Page 486] lodgings of thē that garded thē, and at euery tenth battlement were towers that coupled the two wals together, so as a man could not passe along the wall, but he must go through those towers, into the which those that kept the watch a nights, withdrew themselues when it rained. To compasse their de­termination, the Athenians made skaling ladders full as high as the wals, the heigth whereof they tooke, by considering the thicknesse of the brickes whereof it was made, numbe­ring them from the top to the foot. The townesmen there­fore hauing gotten intelligence of the manner of the watch, spied a night when it rained and the wind blew lowd, and the moone shined not: and came to the foot of the wall vnpercei­ued, because of the darkenesse of the night, and went seuerally by themselues one from another, least the iustling of their har­nesse togither, should make any noise. When they had set vp their ladders against the void spaces where they vnder­stood that no man warded, they that brought the ladders mounted vp first, and after them the rest. Now when a good sort of them were vp, they that watched within the towers perceiued them, by a crannie of one of the battlements that was cast downe in their comming vp. Insomuch that at the first alarme, all the campe came to the wall, not knowing wherfore, by reason of the night and the foule wether. On the other side the Plateians that abode in the citie, went out and assailed the walles in other places, to busie their enemies heads, who were all sore amazed what the matter should be, so as neither they, nor those that garded the towers, stirred not out of their pla­ces. Neuerthelesse, they that had the charge to releiue the watch, lighted vp beacons on the side towards Thebes, to be­token the comming of enemies. Which thing the townsmen perceiuing, lighted vp a great sort of them vpon their walles also, to the intent that their enemies should not know wherfore those fires were made, and that their companions might saue themselues, afore any rescues came to the watch. In the meane time, those that mounted vp first, wonne two towers, and hauing slaine them that were within, got vp them fellowes that remained yet beneath, putting those backe with shot and [Page 487] throwing of stones, which came to rescue the wall. Insomuch that all they which were to salie out of the towne, mounted vp the wall, and then going downe from the towers, came to the ditches on the outside, vpon the brim whereof they found those that should haue succoured the watch, who had lighted vp the beacons; by means whereof, being well and perfectly seen, they were ouerthrowne by the Athenians, and by the townesmen with shot of arrowes, And so the Plateyans passing the ditch with ease, did knit themselues well and close together, and so passed all in good order by the way that leadeth to Thebes, be­cause they doubted that the way to Athens was garded. But when they had gone that way a vvhile, they turned aside the way of the hill, and by a priuie path came all to Athens with­out disturbance.

Sometime to commaund a towne, they make a mount: and in old time it vvas vvoont to be made against the vvall, be­cause there vvas none other fighting but vvith handblowes, for artillarie vvas not yet inuented. Cabades king of Persia made such a mount of earth to be cast vp against the vvall of Amyda, which he saw to be impregnable. But the Amydans to defend themselues from it, made a mine within their wall, whereby they drew away a good peece of the ground that vpheld the mount, and vnderpropped it with timber-worke, that it might not be perceyued. And when they saw the mount couered all ouer with Persians, they let it sinke, so as all that were vpon it were slaine, which caused them to raise their siege.

Spartacus hauing but a few men with him vvhen he rebel­led against the Romans, The policie o [...] Spartacus. tooke a mountaine that was verie strong and vnapprochable, where he was besieged by three thousand Romans, who garded well the passage that hee should not scape. For there was but onelie one place to goe vp or downe at, the residue vvas a rocke cut steepe. Spartacus finding that there grew wilde. Vines a­loft vppon the rocke, did cut off all the biggest twigges, and with them made ladders of coards, so stiffe and long, that beeing fastened aboue, they reached downe to the bottome of the plaine. Vpon the which they went all [Page 488] downe secretly, sauing one who taried casting downe their ar­mour after them, and when he had so done, he also saued him­selfe by the same means. The Romans mistrusted it not. By rea­son whereof, they that were besieged, coasting round about the hill, came and assailed them behind, putting them in such feare with their sudden comming vpon them, that they all tooke them to flight, so as he tooke their campe.

CAHP. XXI. Of diuerse policies and sleights.

I Can not passe with silence certain other policies and sleights, that diuerse braue captains haue vsed, the which I will set here vnorderly. Eumenes being put to flight by Antigonus, as he retired, found Antigonus stuffe, the which he might easily haue taken, and diuerse prisoners therewithall. But he would not, be­cause it vvould haue hindered his flight. And besides that, he saw it vvas vnpossible to haue kept the Macedonians by direct means, from rifling so great goods offred into their hands for so goodly a prise. Therefore he commaunded them to ease them­selues a vvhile, and to bait their horses, and then vpon the sud­den to go and distrusse the baggage. But in the meane vvhile, he sent aduertisement by a secret messenger to Menander, who had the charge of conueying the said stuffe, that he should vvith all speed get him out of the plaines, to the hanging of a hill neere hand, vvhich vvas not to be approched by horsemen, and there to fortifie himselfe; telling him that his giuing of this aduertise­ment vnto him, was in respect of the friendship that he had erst had at his hand. Menander vnderstanding the perill vvherein he vvas, made the stuffe to be trussed vp out of hand, and then Eu­menes sent out his foreriders openly to discouer him, and there­withall commaunded euerie man to put on his armour, and to [Page 489] bridle his horse, as if he had bin minded to haue led them a­gainst their enemies. But anon returned the foreriders, vvho made report that there was no means to force Menander to fight. Whereat Eumenes pretended to be sore displeased, and so pas­sed on. Themistocles vsed the like policie towards Xerxes, vvhen he caused him to be secretly aduertised, to get him out of Greece vvith all the hast he could, that he might auoid the ha­zard of battell, as I haue said elsewhere. Hermocrates being ad­uertised of the intent of Nicias, in breaking vp his siege before Siracuse, & in going his way; & perceiuing that as that day (be­cause it was a festiuall day, and they were occupied in doing sa­crifice to their gods) he could not cause his men to march to take the passages, that he might vanquish the Athenians at his more ease; sent a familiar friend of his to Nicias, with instructi­o [...] [...] tell him, that he came from such as gaue him secret ad­uertisements vvithin the citie, vvho sent him warning to beware that he vvent not on his vvay that night, vnlesse he vvould fall in [...]o the ambushes that the Siracusanes had laid for him. Nicias being bleared vvith those vvords, taried all that night, so as the next morning the Siracusans tooke all the passages: by meanes vvherof the Athenians vvere vnfortunatly ouercome. Eumenes perceiuing that the rest of the princes enuied him, and sought means to kill him: to the intent to preuent them, bare them on hand that he wanted money, and borrowed a good round sum of euery of them, chiefly of those vvhom he knew to hate him, to the intent that thenceforth they should trust vnto him, and desist to lie in wait for him, for feare of loosing the monie that they had lent him: By meane whereof it came to passe, that o­ther mens monie was his safegard, and the assurance of his life. And whereas other men are vvoont to giue monie to saue and assure themselues, this man did set his life in safetie by taking. There was not a greater cause of the bringing in againe of king Edward the fourth into the realme of England when he was dri­uen out, than the marchants and other men to vvhom he vvas indebted, and the vvomen that were in loue vvith him, because he vvas voluptuous, vvho to the vttermost of their power, per­suaded their husbands to be a meane of his returne. Sometimes [Page 490] it is needfull to set neighbours at oddes; but that must be done couertly and cunningly, least it be perceiued. The Athenians fearing the power of the Lacedemonians, had forsakē the league which they had made with the Thebans, and in stead of hol­ding with them, had shewed themselues to be against them, which was a meane to ouerthrow the Thebans vpside downe. But Pelopidas and Gorgidas captains generall of Beotia, espying a way how to set the Athenians againe in a iealousie and heart­burning against the Lacedemonians, found out such a practise as this. There was a captaine named Sphodrias, a verie valiant man of his person, but therewithall light-headed, and fond con­ceyted, such a one as easily conceiued vaine hopes in his head, vpon a foolish vaine glorie to haue done some goodly feate in his life. Pelopidas linked to him a merchant of his familiar acquaintance, who tolled him on to attempt great things, and to go and surprise the hauen of Pyrey, while the Athenians mistrusted no such thing, and therefore kept it not with any sure guard; assuring him that the lords of Lacedemon would l [...]ke of nothing so well, as to hold the citie of Athens vnder their obeysance, and that the Thebanes, who wished them euill to the death for their forsaking and betraying them at their need, would not in anie wise succour them. Sphodrias being mooued with his persuasions, tooke those men of warre with him that he had, and departing by night, went into the countrie of Attica, euen to the citie Eleusine. But when he came there, his men were afraied, and would go no fur­ther. And so being discouered, hee was faine to returne from whence he came. Whereby he procured to the Lace­demonians a warre of no small importance, nor easie to bee vndone againe. For thence-foorth the Athenians sought the alliance of the Thebanes againe, and succoured them verie earnestly.

Coriolanus vsed the like practise. For when he saw he could not cause the peace to be broken, that was betweene the Ro­mans and the Volses, he procured a man to go tell the Ma­gistrates of Rome, that the Volses had conspired to runne vpon the Romans as they were looking vpon their playes and ga­mings, [Page 491] and to set fire vpon the citie. Whereupon, the Volses were commaunded to depart out of the citie of Rome, afore the Sunne going downe. Wherewith the Volses being dis­pleased, proclaimed warre against the Romans. Alcibiades vsed the like tricke. For the Lacedemonians were come to treat of peace with the Athenians, and had for their patrone one Nicias, a man of peace, and well renowmed among the Athenians. Alcibiades went vnto them aforehand, and warned them in any wise to beware, that they told not that they had commission to conclude a full agreement, least the people compelled them of authoritie to graunt them whatsoeuer they would haue; coun­selling them but onely to set downe certaine conditions, as in way of conference. The next morning Alcibiades asked them verie smoothly, what they came to do. They aunswered, that they came to make some profers of peace, but had no commis­sion to determin anie thing. Then fell Alcibiades to crying out vpon them, calling them vntrustie and variable, telling them that they were not come to do anie thing that was of va­lue. And so the ambassadours were sent home without doing any thing, and Alcibiades was chosen captaine to make warre against them.

Coriolanus to encrease the dissention which he knew to be betwixt the nobilitie and commons of Rome, caused the lands of the noble men to be with all care preserued harmles, causing the peoples in the meane time to be wasted and spoiled: which thing caused them to enter into further quarrell and disagree­ment one against another, than euer they had done afore. The noblemen vpbraided the common people, with their iniurious banishing of so mightie a man; and the people charged the no­bilitie, that they had procured him to make warre against them in their reuenge. Hanniball to bring Fabius in suspition, whom he feared aboue all the Romans, caused his lands of purpose to be kept harmelesse, when he wasted all other mens, to the end it might be thought, that he had some secret conference with him, and that that was the cause why he would not fight with him, howbeit that in verie deed, his refusing to encounter, was of great wisedome, to make his enemie [Page 492] consume away without putting any thing in hazard. Timoleon practised another notable policie, to shift himselfe from the hands of the Carthaginenses. Whereas he was sent by the Co­rinthians, to deliuer the citie of Siracuse from the tyrannie of Dennis, as soone as he was arriued at Rhegium, Icetes whom the Siracusanes imploied to the same effect, and who dissembling his purpose, intended to take the place of Dennis, and to do as much as he; sent messengers to Timoleon, desiring him not to passe his men into Sicilie, because the warre began to draw to an end, and the Carthagenenses, with whom he had secret intel­ligence, would not that his men should passe into Sicilie, but that he himselfe should come alone, to aid them with his coun­sell in such affairs as should be offered to deale in. And because he doubted least Temoleon would not consent to his request; he had desired the Carthaginenses (who lay neare vnto the ha­uen of Rhegium with twentie gallies) to stop his passage ouer, and to fight with him, if he attempted to enter by force. Tim [...] ­leon seemed to like well of the saying of the messengers, neuer­thelesse he said it behoued him for his discharge, to haue the same decreed in the assemblie of the Rhegians, and in their pre­sence, as of them that were friends to them both. The which thing he did of set purpose, to hide his owne intent the better, by making the Rhegians priuie to the matter. The next day all the parties met in the Mootehall, where the whole day was purposely spent in talke, that Timoleons gallies might haue ley­sure to prepare themselues vnsuspected of the Carthaginenses, forasmuch as they saw Timoleon present with them. Who assoon as he vnderstood that his gallies were departed all, sauing one that staid behind for him, went his way secretly through the prease by the Rhegians, who being secretly made priuie to the matter by him, had staid him from speaking any more. And so embarking himselfe without any disturbance, he arriued within lesse than an houre at Tauromenion, where Andromachus wai­ted for him. Sylla in the ciuill warres, seeing his enemies to be many in number, thought it stood him on hand to vse policie, as well as force. Wherupon he solicited Scipio, one of the consuls, to come to agreement with him: the which thing Scipio refused [Page 493] not. Hereupon many goings and commings were about the matter, because Sylla protracted the conclusion verie long, fin­ding still some occasion of delay, that in the meane while his souldiers (who were made and accustomed to such policies, as well as their captaine) might practise with Scipios souldiers to forsake him. For they going into Scipios campe, inueigled some of his men with mony, some with promises, and other some with necessitie, so that in the end when this practising had continued a certaine time, Sylla approched to their campe with twentie Antsignes, where his souldiers fell to saluting Scipios, and they saluting them again, turned and yeelded themselues vnto them, so as Scipio abode alone in his tent, where he was taken and not suffred to go away any more. Thus like the fowler with his fine birds made to the stale, Sylla with his twentie Antsignes, drew fortie Antsignes of his enemies into his net, whom he led all in­to his owne campe. Which thing when Carbo saw, he said, That in Sylla he had to deale with a fox and lion both togither, and that the fox did him more harme than the lion. The emperour Iulian, to keepe himselfe from being disappointed of the num­ber of prisoners that he demaunded, vsed such a policie as this, to the Almans whom he had vanquished, and to whom he had graunted peace, vpon condition that they should deliuer him all such prisoners as they had of his. For doubting least they would not deliuer him all, but keepe some good number of them, he demaunded of euerie of them that were escaped and saued out of prison, what were the names of them that were pri­soners, because it could not lightly be, but that they were either of kin or of alliance, or neighbours, or friends vnto them; and he wrate their names in a paper. In the meane season, the ambassa­dours came with their prisoners; of whom Iulian caused the names to be set downe in writing, and the secretaries conferring the one paper with the other, marked those whom the ambassa­dours mentioned not, and named them secretly to the emperor behind him. The emperor began to be angrie with the ambas­sadours, for that they had not brought him all his prisoners; tel­ling them that they had kept backe such and such of such a ci­tie or towne, naming them all by their names; whereat the Al­mans [Page 494] were sore abashed, supposing that it came by reuelation from God. Whereupon they failed not to deliuer all. Triuulce perceiuing the garrison of Millan, and specially the Millaners themselues, to be astonished at the comming of Maximilian and the Swissers into Lumbardie, bethought himselfe of this policie, to put a suspition into the emperours head, of some cause of di­strust in the Swissers. He wrate letters with his owne hand, and sealed them with his seale, to the chiefe leaders and captains of the Swissers, that he might bring them in suspition with the em­perour, and sent them by a seruant of his owne that spake the Swissers tongue well. By these letters he willed them, to per­forme within two daies the thing that he and they were agreed vpon, for he should then haue all things readie according to their platfourme. The messenger offered himselfe of purpose be taken by the emperours scouts, and being examined wher­fore he came thither without the watchword, he praied pardon, promising to tel the truth, and therupon confessed, that he brought letters to the captains of the Swissers. At that word his pardon was graunted him: and he plucking off his neather­stocke, tooke out the letters which were sowed in the sole of it, the which were caried to the emperour immediatly. When he had read them, although he was in great perplexitie, yet was he not of opinion that they should be shewed to the cardinall of Sion, because he would not accuse a captaine of so great autho­ritie among the Swissers, and much lesse cause them to be atta­ched, for feare of putting his affaires in daunger. But in his heart he distrusting the disloyaltie of the Swissers, he repassed the mountaines againe, without making any further speech of it, and returned home into Germanie. Cyrus by the counsell of Croesus, vsed this policie to saue Sardis from sacking. He caused it to be cried by the sound of a trumpet, That no man should conuey a­way the bootie, because a tenth part thereof was to be giuen of necessitie to Iupiter. And for that cause he set warders at euery gate, to see that nothing should be conueyed away. He did this to hold them at a bey, for feare of som mutinie, if he should haue taken it from them by force. But when they saw the king did it of religion and deuotion, they obeyed him without gainsaying, [Page 495] by meanes whereof, the greatest part of the goods of the citie was saued.

Thus haue you a part of the feats of warre of times past, the which I thought good to adde vnto the antient quicke sayings, and to the principall points of the goodliest hystories, to the intent that a prince may find in one place, and take out of this celler or warehouse, whatsoeuer he listeth to choose. For it is farre easier to take in one place, the wares that come from di­uerse parts of the world, than to go seeke them a farre off, and in places dispersed. And yet is it to no purpose to seeke them all in one place, vnlesse they be sorted out aforehand, so as a man may put his hand to whatsoeuer he requireth. For that cause it behoued me to vse a method, in referring euery hystorie to his proper place. There are many other points of warre to be found in hystories, the which my hast to make an end of this my dis­course, causeth me to let alone, and to content my selfe for this present, to haue declared vnto you the things that I haue drawn out of Plutarch, Thucidides, and some other authours that came to my remembrance. Also I haue left many, which you may see in the Mounsieur de Langies Discipline of warre. Of others I will say as an euil painter, That they lie hid behind the Cipres cloth. As touching the feats of warre of our dayes, I will not presume to speake of them, because they which are yet aliue, haue seene the practising of a great part of them, and can better and more particularly report them, than they be written. And to say the truth, when I considered the feats of warre of these times, I find them so honorable, that they be nothing inferior to those of old time. But it is better to leaue the reporting of them, to those that were at the doing of them, than to speake of them like a clearke of armes, for feare least it be said vnto me, That the things were not so done as they be written: The which I doubt not but men will thinke, euen of those also which I haue here alledged. But they be drawne out of such authors, as for their anti­quitie and authoritie, haue purchased prescription against all reproches.