[Page] MARCVS AVSONIVS HIS FOVRE BOOKES Of Morall Precepts, Intituled CATO: Concerning the precepts of common life.

Translated out of Latin Hexamiters into English meter by Walter Gosnold Gentle­man, servant unto the right worshipfull S r. Thomas Bowes of Much-bromley hall in Essex.

Remember those things that thou hast learned, and seeke with diligence to learne those things which thou knowest not: and be willing to teach other those things that thou hast learned, and thou shalt increase thy learning.
Learning will live, and vertue still shall shine,
When folly dyes and ignorance doth pine.

LONDON, Printed by EDVVARD GRIFFIN.

16 [...]

[Page] To the Worshipfull yong Gentleman of vertu­ous education, M r. THOMAS BOVVES, Sonne and heire to the Right Worshipfull, S r. THOMAS BOVVES, Knight: WALTER GOSNOLD wisheth increase of learning, knowledge, vertue and honour, with happy daies.

Worshipfull Sir,

LEast I should be thought to be idle, or to waste the gol­den time of my daies (the rarest of all jewels) in the service of that Right wor­shipfull Knight, your good father, with whom I now live, without some monu­ments or impressions of my industry: as [Page] also thinking with my selfe what I might present some way to expresse my love un­to you, in remembrance of those not to be requited favours I have received, not onely from your selfe, but from that Right worshipfull▪ and religious Knight your father; and that vertuous Lady your mo­ther, which have wholy obliged mee to their house. I have thought good for the first to undertake the translation of Marcus Ausonius his foure bookes of morall pre­cepts intituted Cato: and for the latter I am inforced (for want of better way to shew my good meaning) to dedicate to you, this rude and slender booke transla­ted out of Latin hexamiters, into English meter. Wherein if I have any way mini­stred you occasion to mislike me for dedi­cation of the same unto you (one whose love towards me, I must and will endea­vour to requite, though never able to cansell the obligation of your many and infinite curtesies) I trust you will bee so far from taxing of me, that you will rather hold me excused therein. For if a man be bound, by all meanes that he may (as sure [Page] he is) to gratifie his well deserving friends: then may not I quiet my selfe, and be at silence till I have devised the requitall of some part of your friendships, by some slender gift, such as my fortune, and pre­sent chance will permit me to exhibit unto you. And none can I finde (sweet sir) that in my minde will be more pleasing to your gentle nature, for the encouraging of you to the laborious and industrious obtaining of the Latin tongue, where into you are even now entering: or more fitter for your worships tractible disposition, being of very yong, and tender yeeres, and in whom the very sparkes of a philomathy is already seene, then this new translated Poet, which will so fill you with sweet counsell, wholesome instructions, and abundance of knowledge (unto which we must all in some small measure attaine, before we can step to any other grace or vertue, leading to perfection) as also teach you, how to behave and carry your selfe, in the whole course of your life, aswell towards your inferious as superi­ours, that your company will not onely [Page] be admired of all them, that know you, but likewise desired of all those that shall at any time be so happy, as to be acquain­ted with you. For the Booke it selfe is so exquisit that notwithstanding, the Au­thour thereof was a heathen, and had not the true knowledge of Christ Iesus by faith. Whereby we must all bee saved, living in a time and place where the out­ward meanes of salvation lay hid in ob­scurity and darknesse, as it did a long time after, being many yeeres before the com­ming of Christ: yet I pray God, what ere his faith and beliefe was, that his up­rightnesse and strictnesse of life towards God and man, doe not condemne us, who are, or would be thought Christians, living under the resplendent light, and Sunne­shine of the Gospell. And although hee was a heathen (as I said before) yet shall my charity bee such towards him, being dead, & in whom was such an actuall habit of a good life, whiles he lived, as all the histories that I have read of him, besides his owne workes, by his many good ad­monitions to others, left behind him, doe [Page] witnesse the same; I cannot thinke, nei­ther will it sinke into my heart to be­lieve, that hee died altogether in unbe­liefe, and knowledge of the true God. For at the very period and end of his daies, being praised of the Romans for his courage at his death, laughed: they de­manding the cause why he laughed; hee answered, ye marvaile at that I laugh, and I laugh at that you marvell: for the perils and travels considered wherein wee live, and the safety wherein wee die, it is no more needfull to have vertue, and strength to live, then courage to die. And if wee looke but a little backe into his life, wee shall not have much cause to marvell at his comfortable and patient bearing of the stroke of death; for he was a man of such milde, and temperate spirit, that he could never bee seene to be wroth, or out of patience with any man, but alwaies coun­selled that were angry, that if they desired to live long, cheerefully, and die comfor­tably, to bannish rage, as an enemy to them both; a worthy saying of a heathen, and to be had in estemation and remem­brance [Page] of every good Christian. But should any bee so unwise, to thinke his precepts are the lesse worthy of immita­tion for being a Heathen, I would aver the contrary against any seditious turbu­lent spirit whatsoever, the best of us all being bound to receive the doctrines of many which doe write, tending to our good, though wee be not tied to follow the lives which they leade, if bad. Gold is nere the worse for being presented unto us, out of a beggers hand in a lether bagge; or a sermon ere the worse which we heare preached, because he that preacheth it, is of an ill life. It is our wisdomes to looke what the gold is, and not what the bagge is that it came in, or what the man was that brought it. We are not to inquire so much what the life and conversation of the Minister is, as what his doctrine and admonitions are that hee teacheth; not what this Cato was, but what his precepts are; which in a word, are so wise, honest and good for every Christian man and woman to reade and practice, that you shall not finde any Author, from whom [Page] a civill life may gather better instructions. Many there are of my knowledge, which will not have their children brought up in learning, because forsooth the Authors which they should learne are heathenish, as this our Cato, Turrence, Mantuin, Ovid, Virgil, Homer, and the like: desiring rather they should live like idiots, and die like fooles, then to attaine knowledge (as they thinke) by such unlawfull meanes. Others because of the tendernesse, they beare to their children, will not have them brought up to learning too soone, thinking them even too yong to be taught, and to ex­cuse their errour they affirme, if the child should bee chastened it would make him both sicke and foolish. But what is their end? they are soone too old to learne, and so become unprofitable to the Common­wealth, infamous and disobedient to their parents, so evill in conditions, so light and unadvised in behavour, so unfit for know­ledge, so inclined to lies, so envying the truth, that they are not onely a shame to their fathers which begot them, and a reproach to their mothers which bore [Page] them, but a scandall and disgrace to the succeeding generations after them. How ought you then to study and make use of your time, now whiles you may, least you repent you hereafter, when it will be too late. The tree that blossome not in the spring, will hardly beare fruit in Autumne. If you labour no [...] for learning now in the summer and spring-time of your youth, you will hardly ever have any fruit thereof (as humility, love, obedience, and all tem­porall and spirituall blessings) in the win­ter and declining Autumne of your age. What although you be well descended, and your fathers eldest sonne, and so the likelier to have the heaviest purse? the better and more nobler you are borne by birth, the better ought you to be instructed in your youth; and the more wealth you are like to have the more learning you ought to have put into you: for such as leave great riches to their children, without seeing them brought up in literature (as Socrates saith) are like unto them that give much provender to yong horses, but never breake them at all, so that they waxe fat, [Page] but unprofitable. The father (as one saith) is bound no more towards his childe, but to banish him from his pleasures, and to give him vertuous masters to instruct him. What the pleasures are which fathers ba­nish from their children, I know not; who let loose the raines of liberty so upon them, that the child which most common­ly they love best, (as the eldest) runne most at randome, unto all kindes of loose­nesse and licentiousnesse of life. Vertuous masters I confesse, they many times have to teach them, but as the old saying is, as good nere the whit, as nere the better. For what are their children ere the better for them? they must not forsooth be taught abroad, for feare the winde should blow on them; or from under their mothers winge, least they should ketch cold: but be taught at home in the presence of their parents, that they may not stand in awe of their Tutour, and so learne too much. For so much audacity, is given to chil­dren that are taught at home, and so little countenance showne to the masters which teach them, that one cannot well discerne, [Page] who stands in most feare many times, the master or the scholler. That masters must be thought either very indiscreet, or too base and meane to give correction when they thinke fitting; or fathers very unwise to thinke that their children should be too good to be corrected, when they deserve it. Yet thus it is in great mens houses, when children are negligent, and will not learne, masters would correct rhem, but fathers and mothers forbid them, so that it little avayleth one to pricke the horse with the s [...]ure, when he that sitteth upon him holdeth backe with the bridle. And therefore let parents know although ma­sters be never so ignoble and meane, and children never so noble and well descen­ded, yet must they stand in awe of them by whom they are taught, and have cor­rection at their hands, when occasion serve, if ever they would have them to learne well; but with the fondnesse of those parents whose children are borne to higher fortunes, then others are, the yon­gest brother many times is saine to suffer for the eldest brothers fault, or some other [Page] meaner Gentlemans sonne, that is trayned up with him to be his asociate, insomuch that an elder brother without contradi­ction, now adaies, either of parents, ma­ster, or any one else, may doe any thing but that which is good, or be any thing but a wise man, which seldome troubles him. For although the eldest brother hath all the money and lands, yet the youngest most commonly gets all the wit and man­ners, and in time proves not onely the richest in estate, as I know some, but also in grace as there be many; whereas if they had met with the same sauce in their childhood, that their yonger brothers have done, it would so whetted their sto­makes, that they would have had as good an appetite to all goodnesse, as their yon­ger brothers. But as it is reported of the Ape that she killeth her young ones, with overmuch hugging of them: so there be many such like apish parents who spoyleth their children, with making too much of them, especially if they have but one one­ly childe to inherit their estate after them. For all the time they are at home, they [Page] not be spoken to, or contradicted in any thing they doe, though never so ill. No [...] in any thing they speake, be it never so bad; counting great faults but small ones, and small ones none at all; suffering them (indeed) to have so much their owne wils, and so long without restraint that when they would reine and curbe them in, they cannot. For too much liberty in youth is a manifest token of disobedience in age. When they are put out to schoole though it be long first ere they goe, or be taught at home, the masters hands are so fast bound through a strict command given them from the parents, not to touch them being taught at home: or large golden promises, not to correct them if they bee taught abroad, that the disciples they teach many times perish for want of dis­cipline and impunity. I speake not this concerning your selfe, that you or your parents are any waies to be taxed herein, as I of mine owne knowledge can witnes the same, but what I have seene in others, that I may bee an instrument of good to reforme them that are overmuch to bee [Page] [...]lamed, for their negligence this way, that would have masters to instruct their children, but not to correct them, which sometimes is as necessary as documents of wholesome instructions. Therefore if any should thinke, I have showne but little wit, and lesse manners in dealing thus plainely, or have any waies offended in delivering my minde thus freely, my apologie for my selfe shall be onely this: I would that my labours (being your ser­vant) should be accounted rather honest than wise: For the wise can but please, but the honest can never displease. But what should I need to make any apology for that I have said; when as I know some that are so golden, or rather earthly min­ded, that if they can but heape up moun­taines of wealth to leave their children, to make them rich; they care not how little mole-hils of learning they have to make them vertuous: forgetting that it is better to leave unto their children good doctrine whereby they may live, than evill riches whereby they may perish: whose offence (as a wise Philosopher saith) is [Page] impardonable, that for heaping up of riches, forget to bring up their children in honest manners. If this be not true that I speake, let experience speake for me, who of her owne knowledge can pro­duce many lamentable examples of Gen­tlemens sonnes, and great heires abroad in the world, who have had more wealth left them, than wit to use it, through want of this one principle of learning put into them, to season and relish those other parts and ornaments of nature they have beene endowed withall. Wherefore it standeth parents in hand that have any true inward love toward the good of their children, to see them as well vertuously educated in learning as to provide for them great por­tions. Salomon saith, How much better is it to get wisedome then gold? and to get under­standing▪ rather to be chosen then silver? Let fathers and mothers then take it into their considerations, to use all the best meanes they can to put wisedome and understan­ding into their childrens heads, as well as money into their purses by training them up to learning, when they are young. A [Page] wise childe, saith Salomon, maketh a glad fa­ther, but a foolish childe is a heavinesse to his heart. It is not possible to keepe meate well savoured, unlesse it be first salted: It is impossible that fish should live without water: it is not unlikely, but the Rose which is overgrowne with the Thorne should wither; so it is impossible that fa­thers should have any comfort in their children, unlesse they bring them up to learning and vertuous education in their youth. Nothing maketh a more deepe impression in the mind of man, than those rules he learned when he was a child: for whatsoever good instructions children learne in their youth, the same they re­taine in their age, which made Cato him­selfe be a Schoole-master to his owne sonnes, because he would not have their youth infected. Goe on then, Noble Sir, in the race you have begun, who have hi­therto had (God be praised) vertuous edu­cation, and godly bringing up, having not onely a Wise, and a religious Father to ad­vise you, a vertuous and godly Mother to counsell you; but also a prudent and dis­creet [Page] Master to instruct you; let it then be your care, having such worthy Patternes of imitation laid before you, for a square and a rule to direct you in your youth, as few have the like, to adde thereunto wis­dome and learning, your selfe, as farre as in you lie, by diligence in your study, which will be the most absolute and per­fect way, to make you a complete Gentle­man, that as you patriseat your father eve­ry way in person, so you may strive to imi­tate him as neere as you can in vertue, whose instructions goe not alone, onely as daily Moniters, to disswade and dehort you from that which is ill: but his ex­amples are as so many lectures read unto you, to exhort and encourage you to that which is good. As you would not then have others goe before you in riches, which of Philosophers and Poets are cal­led the gods of Fortune: so let not others goe before you in learning, which is the Mother of Vertue and Perfection, and without which, a man, though never so rich, is but as a sheepe (as Demosthenes termes him) with a golden fleece, or an [Page] [...]mage curiously trimmed, and richly pain­ [...]ed over with fine gold, and beautifull colours. Study and labour then to get knowledge, learning, wisedome, and un­derstanding now whilest you are young, being lesse painfull (as one saith) to learne in youth, than to be ignorant in age. A mans whole life time indeed, ought to be a continuall study, for no man can be too old to learne, yet a mans infancy and child­hood is the chiefest time; when the foun­dation and groundworke of this building is to be laid. Hee that goes about to build a house, begins it not in the Winter, but in the Spring, that he may have the Summer before him to finish his worke; yet better to begin it in the Winter then not at all: so hee that would be a good scholler, must not beginne to fall to his booke and study when he is a man, or in his declining age, but in his childhood and youth; yet better to learne in his old age, then not at all, as one to that effect writeth thus: It is fitter for young men to learne, then to teach, and for old men to teach then to learne; and yet fitter for [Page] old men to learne, then to be ignorant▪ but there is no man that can learne so much, that he shall need to learne no more and I hope I shall not live so long, that [...] shall be too old to learne. How excellen [...] a thing then is learning, that is so requisit [...] in all both old and young, but especially in young? that as Iob speakes of Wisdome, so may I say of learning; it is so excellent, that man knoweth not the value thereof; it cannot be gotten for gold, neither shall silver be weighed for the price thereof; it cannot be valued with the gold of Ophir, with the pretious Onix, or the Saphire, the gold and the crystall, cannot equall it, and the exchange of it, shall not be for je­wells, of fine gold. No mention shall be made of Corall, or of Pearles; for the price of learning is above Rubies, which made grave Plato in contemplation there­of, cry out and say, Oh Science, how would men love and esteeme thee, if they knew thee right, and well might he doe it; for it is the lightest burthen, and richest merchan­dise that a man can possibly traffique in, or carry about him, a fountaine whereunto [Page] [...]l may goe, and yet can never be drawne [...]ry, from whence flowes such delicious [...]eet springs, that the more a man drinks [...]ereof, the more hee desireth it. In a [...]ord, it is the very lampe of life, chiefe [...]uide to Arts and all perfection. Thus [...]ave you heard what an excellent thing earning is; you have heard, I say, for as salomon speaketh A wise man will heare, and [...]ill increase in learning. Let me then intreat [...]ou, nay rather advise you (although your [...]ervant) whatsoever you get, digge, or [...]elve for, as I may say, whilest you live [...]ere in this earthly tabernacle made with [...]ands, to be sure to get that inestimable em of learning, which will sticke by you [...]hen all other treasures will vanish and [...]and you in no stead: and to be so farre in [...]ve therewith, as with the Philosopher, o thinke that day lost, wherein you have [...]ot learned somewhat. Oh, Sir, I would to [...]od, (I speake it from my heart, for the [...]ve I beare unto you) I were as well able [...] willing, to advise you, and my best in­ [...]evours (without any ceremony or com­ [...]lement) should lie prostrate at your wor­ships [Page] feet to doe you service. I confesse Multis simulationum involuris tegitur, & qua [...] velis quibusdam obtenditur, every mans hea [...] is hid with many clokes of dissimulation and is covered, as it were, with curtaine drawne before, that one can scarse believ [...] another, there is so much flattery, hypo­crisie and by-respects, used in the world yet I professe seriously unto you, as yo [...] have my Epistle, you have my heart, an [...] I desire no otherwaies to be accounted then as I am,

Your true and faithfull servant, WALTER GOSNOLD

A Postscript.

IT is not long since it pleased your good Father, out of the courteous favour and loving respect he beares to every schollerlike action, to grace mee with a worthy acceptation of an Ana­gram which once I presented unto him, upon his owne Name, which, lest antiquity should race it out of the old stocke, by processe of time▪ which weares, eates, and consumes up all things; you being his eldest Sonne, of his Name, and every way like unto him, I have thought fit to re­vive it in the young branch, by presenting of it the second time unto your selfe that as it repre­sents and shewes what your fathers life is, and [Page] hath beene: so it may demonstrate and lay ope [...] unto you, not onely what your life ought to have beene, and what it now should be, but what it must be, if ever you would be truely like your Father, or have your life and Anagram con­curre and agree together, and therefore let it be your care, to looke daily upon it, as in a glasse, that thereby you may be put in mind, to see whether or no you are, or desire truly to be such a one, as the Anagram of your Name doth foreshew you to be, that you may with the more safety arrive at the wished haven of end­lesse happinesse, which every blessed man shall one day be pertaker of. In which navigation, or progresse, upon the tempestuous Sea of this wide world, I leave you to that perfect guide and sure pilot, Christ Iesus, who hath both the winds, and waters at his command, to bring you with safety to his Fathers House: to which place, the Lord of his mercy bring you, and us all, being the full fruition of the reward laid up for all such as leade a blessed life.

An Anagram upon the Name of the right worshipfull, S r. Thomas Bowes, Knight, presented to the worshipfull young gentleman, his son and heire, M r. Thomas Bowes Esquire.

Anagram
  • THOMA BOWES
  • Beatus Homo.
T ruth, justice, valour, equity, and right
H e holds in hand, to doe his country good:
O bedient to Gods Lawes, both day and night
M aintaining love, in every brotherhood,
A lmes deeds, where need requires, he is not slacke
S o helpfull to the poore he is that lacke.
B elov'd he is of all, hated of none,
O nely the bad, because he sinne reproves
W here wickednesse is, he doth still bemone
E arth wants more such, whose days are but a span
S uch like as these, foreshew a blessed man.

An Epigram upon him that shall finde fault with this Anagram.

You of this Anagram may disallow,
The reason is, because thete wanteth you,
If you be it, that makes my Anagram not right,
I'le put in you, and then my Anagram is right.

Another to Momus.

O Momus why, why doe you scoffe at me?
In spying faults, where is no faults to see;
If you doe spoile this Anagram of mine,
Why blam'st thou me, when as the fault is thine?

Another Epigram.

Some squibbing at my Anagram, said it was wrōg,
Much like my vers, either too short or else too long
Say what they will, there wants but halfe a letter,
Take pen & mendit, and Ile remaine their debter.

To the envious Reader.

Pale faced Reader, dost thou envie me?
I thought thou wouldst have sought hier to clime
More fitting for your place and pedigree,
Then to looke downe so low, to view my rime;
If it be so, 'gainst nature you will see't
You, face to face, my verse shall dare to meet.

An Anagram upon the Name of the vertuous and wel disposed young gentlewomen, my much ho­noured friend, and loving kinswoman, Mistresse Elizabeth Barington,

wherein is lively set forth the rebellion and daily opposition betwixt the flesh and spirit, nature and grace in the best of [Page] Gods children, being more prone by nature to that which is ill, then by grace unto that which is good, Rom. 7. 21.

A good Name is better than great riches, and it en­dureth for ever, Prov. 22. 1 Ecclus. 41. 13.
‘Our Names are written in hea­ven. Luk. 10. 20. ELIZABETH BARINGTON. ‘God exalteth the names of such as keepe his Law. Deut. 26. 19.

ANAGRAM.
‘The spirit mo­ving concerning the inner Man, in mymind, I delight in the Law of God, Rom. 7. 22. On, git zeale in heart. ‘Godly sorrow worketh zeale in us, 2 Cor. 7. 11. ‘Its good to be zealous in a good thing Gal. 4. 18.

OR, The flesh re­sisting.

‘O, who shall de­liver mee from this body of sin? The good that I would, that doe I not, but that I wold not do, that do I, Rom. 7. 19. Git no zeale in heart. ‘There is a zeale not according to knowledge, Rom. 10. 2.

Thus the flesh stayeth, even the most perfect to goe forward. By nature wee are the children of wrath, sold under sin: but by grace are we made righteous before God, Eph. 2. 3. 5. Ro. 3. 24. & 7. 14.

Verses upon the Subject.

BEhold, twixt grace & nature, what great strife
Is in each man, and vertuous womans life,
Where grace doth put us on, and pricke us forth,
There nature pullsus backe, as too too loth,
To doe that which is good, but all the ill
That can be done, nature will have her will,
If God assisting puts not to his hand,
Dame nature over grace, will have command,
And grace out of our hearts at last will thrust,
Making us captive to each sinfull lust.
Get faith, get love, get zeale in heart saith grace,
But none of these (say nature) doe imbrace.
For nat'rall man delighteth not in these,
His appetite, they no waies doe him please.
Natures chiefe ayme, is his owne glorious praise,
When grace ne'r seekes it selfe, but God alwaies.
The ballance is uneven, and overswaid,
Where grace and nature are together weigh'd.
Why nature then's so bad, it is no wonder,
Being that nature is not kept more under.
Give me a heart, O God, I doe thee pray,
Where grace, not nature may have chiefest sway.
Grace doth invite you to get zeale in heart,
Nature forbids you, thereof to take part,
Examine well your heart, doe not combine,
But search your waies, to which you doe incline.
Where nature good, with store of grace doth meet,
There is a life of harmony most sweet.
A woman milde, of nature loving kind,
Indu'd with grace, best fits an honest mind.
A nature firie hot, a zeale key cold,
Become no woman living, young nor old.
Hath nature outwardly adorn'd thy face?
Decke inwardly thy soule with splendant grace.
Beg it of God, as he hath given thee store,
So that he would increase it more and more,
Proceed, goe on in grace, thy glasse doth run,
Leave thou not off, untill thy thred be spun.
Heaven's of more worth, then earthly treasure here,
Lose earth for heaven, tho friends to thee be deare.
Lord ravish thou my soule with heavens delight,
To worke my peace before the dismall night.
Good nat'rall parts wil stand us in no stead,
If parted hence from living to the dead.
Thy name peruse, and beare it in thy mind,
And see if thou no contradiction find.
Thou canst not zealous be on no condition,
But thou shalt even there meet with opposition.
Resist thou not Gods spirit in thy soule,
Though Satan instantly doth thee controule.
Weeds springeth up in every fruitfull ground,
The like in every one is to be found.
The flesh against the spirit doth rebell,
If we the flesh resist, it will be well.
Sweet Jesus make me zealous in my youth,
And bold for to maintaine with zeale thy truth.
But yet O God, I this desire of thee,
That unto knowledge I may zealous be▪
The times doth call for zeale, lets pray with zeale▪
That God in mercy to this land may deale.
WALTER GOSNOLD.

An Ode, or Carroll in the praise and com­mendation of learning.

THe poore that live in needy rate,
By learning doth great riches gaine,
The rich that live in wealthy state,
By learning doe their wealth maintaine,
Thus rich and poore are furthered still,
By sacred rules of learned skill.
The simple man by learning is
Ʋnto great height of wisdome growne,
The prudent man through learning is
In grace and vertue alwaies knowne:
So wise and simple simpathies
By learned Science to grow wise.
The child thats weaned from the teat
Hath not such cause, for to complaine,
As he that wants this heavenly meat,
His hungry soule for to sustaine.
Then strive for learning what you can,
For learning makes the richest man.
[...]old, silver, pearles, and pretious stones
[...] man may have, yet be but poore,
[...]s learning that doe save the bones,
[...]hen richer men must labour more.
[...]hen learning prize above thy wealth,
[...]or thats the way to raise thy selfe.
[...] want the skill for to expresse
The World of good that learning doth
[...]o all man-kinde, both more and lesse,
Though to attaine it man be loth.
Learning is that which will availe,
And sticke to man when riches faile.
All fond conceits of franticke youth
The golden gift of learning staies,
Of doubtfull things to search the truth,
Learning sets forth the ready waies:
O happy him, doe I repute,
Whose brest is fraught with learnings fruit.
There growes no corne within the field
That oxe and plough did never till,
Right so the minde no fruit can yeeld,
That is not led by learnings skill.
Of Ignorance comes rotten weeds,
Of learning springs right noble deeds.
Like as the Captaine hath respect
To traine his souldiers in aray,
So learning hath mans mind direct:
By vertues staffe his life to stay,
Though friends and fortune doe waxe scant,
Yet learned men shall never want.

To the well, or ill disposed Reader, I care not which.

REader, who ere thou art, that reads this little booke▪
search not for others crimes,
but thy owne faults there looke.
Where thou shalt find thy selfe, so like a criple halt,
That thou no time wilt have, to spy an others fault:
Therefore let me advise thee, and informe thy mind
For to reforme thy faults, before thou fault doe find.
Falts may have scap'd my heedlesse pen I doe confesse
But what is that to thee, if thine be nere the lesse.
Mend then thy owne, before thou others teach or schoole
Left for thy labour thou be'st thought a prating foole.
For fond it is a moat in others workes to spy
V nlesse thou first do pull the beame out of thy eye,
Which hides from seeing in thy selfe one fault of ten,
But sets your eyes wide ope, to laugh at other men.
For who is he that ever writ, that you can name
Whose pen by such as you, could freed be from blame.
With malice then against me swell, with envie burst,
I never will be vex'd, since I am not the first.
But gentle courteous reader, if thou dost intend,
In reading this, such faults as you doe find to mend,
Without reproachfull scurvie termes, disdainfull taunts
Distil'd from wicked minds, where envie daily haunts,
And speake the best, what ere it is you reade or see,
To such as any way shall laugh or squib at me,
I shall be thankfull, which ingratitude disdaines,
And ever mindfull be, for to requite your paines,
By troubling you hereafter in an other straine,
Which may perhaps more pleasing be unto your vaine.
[...]he meane time, imbrace grave Catos precepts mild,
[...]o ere thou art that reads them, man, woman, or child.
[...]d therefore honest matrons, if so be you please
be so curteous, as to accept of these
[...]re lines, which offer here themselves unto your view
read at your owne leisure, when it pleaseth you;
[...]d not to be displeas'd, or cast an angry brow
[...] me, as if my labours, you did disallow,
[...] reason of the Latin verses intermixt
[...]ove, beneath, the English meters, and betwixt
[...]his be all, turne angry frowns to loving smiles,
[...]o left them have to you, but as low Country stiles.
[...]ere you may easily over steppe, and yet be in
[...]e selfe same beaten path, where first you did begin
[...] read, to walke, to meditate, and spend your time
[...] which you still may do, and never spoyle my rime,
[...]r marre the sence. Forbeare not then to take in hand
[...] read my verses poore and leane, yet truly scand.
[...]t what you will that do, read some, read all & spare not;
[...]ou read none at all, al's one to me, I care not.
Walter Gosnold.

To the Reader.

Courteous Reader, I was purposed long si [...] to have put this yong infant into sw [...] ling-clouts, and sent it unto the presse▪ so soone it had been borne, had I not had intelligence t [...] there was already an elder brother had suppl [...] the place, which made me presently to enquir [...] the Stationers, whether it were so or no, l [...] some sudden passion should make me to strang [...] in the wombe, before it came to full perfecti [...] But finding report not alwaies to be true, co [...] ­ming there I found none so neare akin unto as Cousin jermans twice removed, which g [...] such life and refreshing to my vitall spirits▪ cherishing that wherewith I was in travell, t [...] like a fruitfull mother in stead of one, it hap [...] in short time (without the helpe of a Mid [...]i I was safely delivered of two twins, one named the name of Cato the elder, the other by [...] name of Cato the younger, who hung not lo [...] on the brest, before they were named, and sent broad into the world, to see what service t [...] were able to performe for their countries go [...] Therefore Gentlemen, that which I shall req [...] [Page] [...] your hands in their behalfe, is onely this, that [...] you chance to meete with any of them, to doe [...]em but the grace as to honour their persons [...]ith your presence, in taking acquaintance of [...]em, who now are become your owne Countrey­ [...]en, and will be ready to tender you the best of [...]heir service. I take my leave and will ever rest,

Your assured friend to command, WALTER GOSNOLD.

The Poesie which CATO alwaies carried in his Ring.

Be Friend to One and Enemy to None

Ad librum suum.

MY little booke, whom wilt thou please, tell m [...]
All which shall read thee? no that cannot be
Whom then? the best. But few of them there are;
And for the bad thou shalt not need to care.
If at the meane thou aymst, thou aymst too high,
The meaner sort commend not poetry.
How wilt thou give content then to these elves?
Please not the fooles, but let them please themselves.
Passe by the worst, and set by them no store,
Please well the best, thou shalt not need please more.

Ad curiosum lectorem.

MEthinks some curious Reader, I heare say,
That Latin verse in English, is not fit:
My booke is plaine, and would have if it may,
An English Reader, but a Latin wit.
SCIPIO.
NVnquam minus solus, quam cum solus;
Nec minus otiosus, quam cum otiosus.

MARCVS AVSONIVS HIS FOVRE BOOKES Of Morall Precepts, Intituled CATO: Translated out of Latin Hexameters into English meter.

The Preface.

CƲm animadverterem quamplurimos homi­nes graviter errare in via morum, succur­rendum & consulendum eorum opinioni fore existimavi, maximè, ut gloriosè vive­rent, & honor [...]m contingerent. Nunc te, fili charissime, docebo, quo pacto mores animi tui componas. Igitur praecepta mea ita legas, ut intelligas: legere enim & non intelligere, negligere est.

WHen I observ'd how many men
in manners went awry,
And grosly erred in their course
from pathes of piety.
I thought by counsell to amend
if happily I might
what was amisse, and teach men how
to live in happy plight.
Now therefore my beloved sonne
I will informe thy mind
[...]o walke a course, whereby thou maist
both praise and profit finde.
(Therefore) my precepts read, as that by thee
they may be understood,
For why to read, and not regard
is to neglect thy good.

The first booke of Morall Precepts.

The Preface.
Dei cultus praecipuus.
The worship of God is
chiefly to be regarded.
1. Si Deus est animus, nobis ut carmina dicunt.
Hic tibi praecipue sit purâ mente colendus▪
Cause God a living spirit is,
as writings testifie,
He must be worshipped aright
in soules pure verity.

[Page] Somnolentia vitanda.

Drowsinesse is to be shunned.

[...] Plus vigila semper, nec somno deditus esto:
Nam diuturna quies, vitiis alimenta ministrat.
[...]e watchfull ever, and to sleepe
let not thy mind be bent:
[...]or ease continually to vice
affordeth nourishment.

Cohibenda lingua.

The tongue is to be bridled, or kept in.

3. Ʋirt [...]tem primam esse puta compescere linguam:
Proximus ille Deo, qui scit ratione tacere.
Of morall vertues hold it chiefe
the unbridled tongue to tame:
Next unto God he is that can
with reason rule the same.

Sibi ipsi conveniendum est.

A man must accord or agree with himselfe.

4. Sperne repugnando tibitu contrarius esse:
Conveniet nulli, qui secum dissidet ipse.
In disputation suffer not
incensed wrath to rise:
Which wit and judgement so beguiles
that truth obscured lies.

Nemo temere culpandus.

No man is to be blamed rashly.

5. Si vitam inspicias hominum, si denique mores,
Cum culpent alios, nemo sine crimine vivit.
If you survey the lives of men
and manners of the time:
Whiles each reproves an others fault
what man is free from crime?

Vtilitas divitiis anteponenda.

Utility is to be preferred before riches.

6. Quae nocitura te [...]es, quamvis sint chara, relinq [...]
Vtilitas opibus praeponi tempore debet.
Abandon things that hurtfull are
though deare to thee they seeme.
In time thy private profit more
than wealth thou must esteeme.

Mores pro tempore mutandi.

Manners are to be framed according to the time.

7. Constans & levis, ut res cun (que) expostulat, esto.
Temporibus mores sapiens sine crimine mutat.
Be constant, and if cause require
unconstant seeme to be:
Wise men their manners sometimes change,
and yet from fault are free.

Ʋx [...]ri non semper assentiendum.

A man must not alwaies assent to the wife.

8. Nil temere uxori de servis crede querenti:
Sepe etenim mulier, quem conjux diligit, odit.
Beleeve not rashly what thy wife
of servants shall relate:
For ofttimes whom the husband loves
the wife is found to hate.

Instandum correctioni ami [...]i.

We must be earnest, in admonishing a friend.

[Page] 9▪ Cum (que) mones aliquem, nec se velit ipse, moneri,
Si tibi sit ch [...]rus, noli des [...]stere coeptis.
If thou in kindnesse warne a man
selfe wild and loath to heare:
Yet leave not off thy course begun,
if he to thee be deare.

Stulti verbis non vincuntur.

Fooles are not overcome by words.

10. Contra verbosos, noli contendere verbis:
Sermo datur cunctis, animi sapientia paucis.
With men too full of words
contend thou not in vaine:
For speech is common unto all,
but wisedome few attaine.

Amicus sibi quisque.

Let every man be a friend to himselfe.

11. Dilige sic alios, ut sis tibi charus amicus:
Sic bonus esto bonis, ne te mala damna sequantur.
So love thy friends, as to thy selfe
a loving friend you be:
So bound thy bounty to the best
as harme pursue not thee.

Rumores spargere vetitum.

To spread rumors or reports is unlawfull.

12. Rumores fuge, ne incipias novus author haberi:
Nam nulli tacuisse nocet, nocet esse locutum.
Flee tales, and rumours, lest of newes
a coyner you be thought:
For silence seldome hurts a man
but speech much harme hath wrought.

[Page] Fides aliena non promittenda.

We are not to promise, upon another mans word.

13. Rem tibi promissam certo promittere noli:
Rara fides ideo est, quia multi multa l [...]quuntur.
On trust to others words, make thou
no promise least thou breake;
For faith and truth is rare, because
most meane not as they speake.

Iudex quisque sui.

Every man ought to be Judge of himselfe.

14. Cum te quis laudat, judex tuus esse memento.
Plus aliis de te; quàm tu tibi credere noli.
When other men commend thee most,
judge of thy merit so:
As thou believe not more their word
then what [...]hy selfe do know.

Ben [...]ficior [...]m r [...]tio.

The respect to be had of benefits.

15. Offi [...]ium alterius multis narrare memento:
At (que) aliis cum tu benefeceri [...], ipse sileto.
Each pleasure done thee by a friend
to many make thou knowne:
But what to others thou hast done,
keepe to thy selfe alone.

Seni [...] bene gesta referenda.

Things done well of us, are to be reported in old age.

16. Multorum dum facta senex & dicta recenses,
Fac tibi succurrant juvenis quae feceris ipse.
When thou art old, and shalt report
the acts of divers men:
Remember then thy youthful times,
and what thy selfe didst then.

Suspicionis labes.

The blemish of suspition.

17. Ne cures si quis tacito sermone loquatur:
Conscius ipse sibi de se putat omnia dici.
Take no regard what standers by
in private whispering chat:
A guilty conscience still mistrusts
their selfe is aimed at.

In prosperis de adversis cogitandum.

In prosperity we must thinke that adversity may come.

18. Cum fueris felix, quae sunt adversa caveto:
Non eodem cursu respondent ultima primis.
In time of wealth remember wo
mutations are not strange:
All humane things are ordred so
to have their enterchange.

Mors alterius non speranda.

The death of another is not to be hoped for.

19. Cum dubia & fragilis sit nobis vita tributa,
In morte alterius spem [...]u tibi ponere noli.
Since fraile and doubtfull is our life,
unknowne our dying day:
To live in hope of others death,
great folly doth bewray.

[Page] Animus in dono astimandus.

We must esteeme the mind of the giver, not the gift.

20. Exiguum munus cum dat tibi pauper amieus,
Accipito placide, plene & laudare memento.
If from thy poore well wishing friend,
some slender gift be sent:
In thankfull wise accept his love,
and praise his good intent.

Paupertatis tolerantia.

The enduring or suffering of povertie.

21. Infantem nudum cum te natura crearit,
Paupertatis onus patienter ferre memento.
Since naked from the wombe thou cam'st
as nature form'd thee there,
The burthen of externall wants
with patience see thou beare.

Mors non formidanda.

Death is not to be feared.

22. Ne time as illam, quae vitae est ultima finis:
Qui mortem metuit, quod vivit perdit id ipsum.
Dread not thy death in time to come
nor feare the fatall knife:
VVho dreads his end, therein exiles
the comfort of his life.

Amicorum ingratitudo fugienda.

The ingratitude of friends is to be fled.

23. Si tibi pro meritis nemo respondet amicus,
Incusare Deum noli, sed te ipse coerce.
If friends to whom thou hast beene kinde
thy kindnesse nought regard:
Accuse not Fate, but blame thy selfe,
be wiser afterward.

Frugalitas,

Frugality, or thriftinesse.

24. Ne tibi quid desit, quaesitis utere parce;
Ʋique quod est serves, semper tibi deesse putato▪
The better to supply thy wants,
spare what thy hand hath got:
And that thou maiest thy mony save,
suppose thou hast it not.

Promissio iterata molesta.

A promise iterated, or oft made is grievous.

25. Quod praestare potes, ne bis promiser is ulli:
Ne sis ventosus, dum vis urbanus haberi.
What in thy power rests to performe,
twice promise not for shame:
Lest while thou wouldst be civill thought,
thy lightnesse all men blame.

Ars arte deludenda.

Cunning is to be deceivd, or met with by cunning.

26. Qui simulat verbis, nec corde est fidus amicus,
Tu quo (que) fac simile; sic ars deluditur arte.
Who speakes thee faire, and loves thee not,
like measure let him finde;
So art by art is met withall
and falshood in her kinde.

Blandiloquentia suspecta.

Faire speaking is suspicious.

[Page] 27. Noli homines blandos nimiùm sermone probare
Fistula dulce canit, volucrem dum decipit aucep [...]
Approve not fawning flatterers,
whose words are full of wiles:
Most sweetly sounds the Fowlers Call,
whil'st he the bird be guiles.

Liberi artibus instruendi.

Children are to be trained up in trades.

28. Si tibi sint nati, nec opes: tunc artibus illos
Instrue; quo possint inopem defendere vitam.
If wedden thou have children store,
and little wealth to give:
Then traine them up in honest arts,
that each may lear [...]e to live.

Res quomodo aestimandae.

How things are to be valued or reckoned.

29. Quod vile, est carum; quod carum vile putato:
Sic tibi nec parcus, nec avarus habeberis ulli.
Things that be cheape, imagine deare,
things deare as cheape esteeme,
So neither niggard to thy selfe
nor greedy shalt thou seeme.

Culpata non facienda.

Things blame worthy are not to be done.

30. Quae culpare soles, ea tu ne feceris ipse:
Turpe est doctori, cum culpa redarguit ipsum.
What fault thou findst with other men,
let not be sound in thee:
Foule shame in him that vice reproves,
himselfe not to be free.

[Page] Concedenda petenda.

Things meet to be granted, are to be requested.

31. Quod justū est petito, vel quod videatur honestū:
Nam stultum petere est, quod posset jure negari.
What is thy dew, thou maist require,
or what seemes honest crave;
But folly were it to desire,
a thing thou ought'st not have.

Nota ignot is non commutanda.

Knowne things are not to be changed for unknowne things.

32. Ignotum tibi nolito praeponere notis;
Cognita ju licio constant, incognitacasu.
Things knowne, before things never try'd,
preferre if thou be wise;
Sith those by judgement are discern'd,
but these be mere surmise.

Dies quis (que) supremus putandus.

Every day is to be accounted our [...].

33. Cum dubia incertis versetur vita p [...]ri [...]lis.
Prolucro tibi pone diene quicunque laboras.
Since life in daily danger lies,
and issues doubtfull are;
Each day thou liv'st, account thou gaine,
that captive art to care.

Obsecundandum amicis.

We must obey, or please our friends.

34. Vincere cum possis, interdum cede sodali:
Obsequio quoniam dulces vincuntur amici.
Sometimes when thou mayst victor be
give place as vanquished:
By yeelding up in curtesie
kind friends are conquered.

Amicitiae mutua officia.

The duties of friendship ought to be mutuall.

35. Ne dubites cum magna petas, impendere parva:
His etenim rebus conjungit gratia charos.
Great things requiring, grudge you not,
small charges to bestow:
For by this meanes, twixt friend and friend,
doth favour greatly grow.

Amicitia rixas odit.

Frindship hateth brawlings.

36. Litem inferre cave, cum quo tibi gratia juncta est:
Ira odium generat, concordia nutrit amorem.
With whom thou art in league of love,
to quarrell thinke profane;
Brawle, hatred breeds, and friendship breakes,
but peace doth love maintaine.

Castigatio sine ira.

Correction ought to be without anger.

37. Servorum ob culpam cumte dolor urget in iram:
Ipse tibi moderare, tuis ut parere possis.
When rechlesse servants move thy minde
to wrath and irefull rage:
Doe nought in choller till the time
thy fury shall asswage.

Patientia vincere.

To overcome by patience.

[Page] [...]8. Quem super are potes; interdum vince ferendo:
Maxima enim morum semper sapientia virtus.
[...]hen thou by force may'st conquer seeke
by sufferance to convince:
[...]f mortall vertues, wise men hold
sweet patience soveraigne prince.

Quaesita sunt conservanda.

Things gotten are to be kept.

[...]9. Conserva potuis quae sunt jam parta labore:
Cum labor in damno est crescit mortali [...] egestas.
[...]eepe rather goods by labour got
then spend till things be scant:
[...] losse to worke, and toyle a fresh
is still to live in want.

Consulendum tibi imprimis.

Thou must consult, or looke to thy selfe, before all other.

[...]0. Dapsilis interdum notis, charis & amicis,
Cum fueris foelix, semper tibi proximus esto.
[...] wealth abound be liberall,
each friendship to reward,
[...]et so, as alwaies of thy selfe
thou have a due regard.
FINIS.

The second Booke of Morall Precepts.

The Preface.

TElluris si forte velis cognoscere cultum,
Ʋirgilium legit [...]; quod s [...] mage nosse labor as
Herbarum vires, Macer tibi carmine dicet.
Si Romana cupis, vel Punica noscere bella,
Luca [...]um quaeras, qui Martis praelia dicet.
Si quid amare libet, [...] discere amare legendo,
Nasonem petito; sin antem vera tibi hee est
Ʋt sapiens vivas, andi, quo discere possis
Per quae semotum viti [...] traducitur avum:
Ergo ades, & quae su sspientia dis [...]e legendo.
OF Tillage, if perhaps thou wouldst
the skill exactly know;
Read learned Ʋirgil, whose discourse
each thing at large doth shew.
But-if of herbs and plants the force
thou rather wish to finde:
Lo, Macer writes a booke in verse
to satisfie thy minde,
If Romane warres, and bloody broyles
of Carthage pl [...] thee more,
[...]earch Lucan, who of Mars his stirs
and stratagems hath store.
[...]r if by reading, thou desire
the lawes of Love to learne:
[...] Nasoes wanton legend, lo,
this art thou maist discerne.
[...]ut if thy chiefest care intend
a wise mans state to see;
[...]hen listen how to leade a life,
from filthy vices free.
Approach (I say) and to my lore
attend whil'st I relate;
What wisdome is, and how by her
thou may'st be fortunate.

The second Booke of CATO his PRECEPTS.

De omnibus bene merendum.
We must deserve well of all men.
1. SIpotes, ignotis etiam prodesse memento:
Ʋtilius regno, meritis acquirere amicos.
Even unto strangers, if thou may'st,
doe good in time of need:
For friends by love and bounty wonne,
a kingdomes worth exceed.

Areana non scrutanda.

Secret things are not to be searched.

[Page] 2. Mitte arcana Dei, coelum (que) inquirere quid fit;
Cum sis mortalis, quae sunt mortalia cura.
What heaven and Gods high secrets are
waste not thy wits to learne:
Since thou art mortall, minde the things
that mortall men concerne.

Mortis timor, gaudia pellit.

The feare of death doth drive away joyes.

3. Linque metum lethi, nam stultū est tempore in om [...]
Dum mortem metuis, amit [...]is gaudia vitae.
Fond feare of death abandon quite,
as follies foule effect:
Which who so dreads, all joy of life
doth utterly reject.

Iracundia cavenda.

Angrinesse is to be eschewed.

4. Iratus de re incerta contendere noli:
Impedit ira animum ne possit cer [...]ere verum.
In disputation, suffer not
incensed wrath to rise:
Which wit and judgement so beguiles
that truth obscured lies.

Expendum ubi opus est.

We must bestow quickly,

where, or when need is.
5. Fac sumptum propere, cumres desiderat ipsa:
Dandum etenim est aliquid cum tempus postala [...] ­a [...]tu [...]
Spare for no cost, when time shall serve,
and cause require the same:
A penny better spent than spar'd
adds to an honest name.

[Page] Fortuna modica tutior.

A moderate fortune, or meane estate is most safe.

Quod nimium est fugito, parvo gaudere memento:
Tuta mage est puppis modico quae flumine fertur.
[...]andon superfluities,
with little rest content:
[...]fe is the barke, on calmer streame
to wished haven bent.

Occulta vita vitia reticenda.

Secret faults are to be kept in, or concealed,

7. Quod pudeat, socios prudens celare memento:
Ne plures culpent id quod tibi displicet uni.
Remember well, as wise men would
to hide thy proper shame.
And that which doth thee most displease,
lest many doe thee blame.

Occulta tandem revetantur.

Hidden things are revealed at length.

[...]. Nolo putes pravos homines pec [...]ata lucrari:
Temporibus peccata latent, & tempore parent.
Thinke not that man offending oft
and hath his faults concealed,
[...]t that his secret sinnes in time
shall come to be revealed.

Imbecilitas virtute compensatur.

Weakenesse or feeblensse of strength is re­compensed by vertue.

9. Corporis exigui vires c [...]nt [...]mnere noli:
Consilio pollet cui vim natura negavit.
A man of limbe, and stature small,
disdaine not in thy pride:
For natures wants by wisdomes wealth
is commonly supply'd.

Cedendum potentiori ad tempus.

Wee must give place for a time to a mo [...] mighty man.

10. Quem scieris non esse parem tibi, tempore ced [...]
Ʋictorem à victo superari saepe videmus.
Contending with superiour powers
take heed in time to yeeld:
For oft the party vanquished,
hath after wonne the field.

Rixandum cum familiaribus non esse.

We must not brawle or fall out with o [...] friends.

11. Adversus natum noli contendere verbis:
Lis minimis verbis interdum maxima crescit.
Against thy friend with force of words
strive not in any wise:
Sometimes of words which are but wind
great controversies rise.

Fortuna non quaerenda sorte.

Fortune is not to be sought by lot, or w [...] are not to seeke by lot, what our fortu [...] must be.

12. Quid Deus intendit, noli perquirere sorte:
Quid statuat de te, si [...]e te deliberat ipse.
[...]hat God intends, endeavour not
by lot to know or shunne:
[...]hat he determines touching thee,
without thee shall be done.

Luxus odium generat.

Riot, superfluity, or excesse, doth beget hatred.

[...]3. Invidiam nimio cultu vitare memento:
Quae si non laedit, tamen hanc sufferre molestu [...] est.
[...]schew by over nice attire
foule envies hatefull sting:
Which though it hurt not, to endure
is yet an irksome thing.

Animus non deponendus ob iniquum.

Our minde, or heart is not to be cast downe for unjust judgement, or because wee are wrongfully condemned.

14. Esto animo forti, cum sis damnatus iniquè,
Nemo diu gaudet qui judice vincit iniquo.
By wrongfull judgement overthrowne,
thy selfe discourage not:
By doome unjust who overcomes
not long enjoyes his lot.

Reconciliaris lis non refricanda.

Strife is not to be renued to a friend reconci­led, or injuries past, are not to be remembred.

15. Litis praeteritae noli maledicta referre:
Post inimicitias iram meminisse, malorum est.
Once rconciled, rippe not up
the wrong of former daies;
Old gauls to rub, and wrath revive
a wicked minde bewrayes.

Teipsum neque laudat, neque culpa.

Neither praise thou thy selfe, nor disprai [...] thy selfe.

16. Nec te collaudas, nec te culpaveris ipse:
Hac faciunt stulti, gloria vexat inanis.
To praise or discommend thy selfe
are things alike unfit:
For so doth fooles whom glory vaine
bereaves of common wit.

Parsimonica.

Sparing, or thriftinesse.

17. Ʋtere quaesitis modice, dum sumptus abundat:
Labitur exiguo quod partem est tempore longo.
In midst of plenty keepe a meane
spend not thy wealth too fast:
Goods long in gathering oft are seene
in little time to waste.

Supercilium non nunquam deponendum.

The countenance now and then is to be ca [...] downe or changed, or it is good sometime to counterfeit folly.

18. I [...]cipiens esto, cum tempus, postulat, aut res:
Stultitiam simulare loco, prudentia summa est.
To play the foole in time of place
occatio [...] serving fit:
Amongst the wisest is esteem'd
the chiefest point of wit.

[Page] Neque prodigus, neque avarus.

Be thou neither prodigall, nor covetous: spend not above measure, nor be miserable.

19. Luxuriam fugito, simul & vitare memento
Crimen avaritiae: nam sunt contraria famae.
Flee wanton ryot, and withall
eschew the common fame
Of averice: both which extremes
impeach a mans good name.

Loquaci parum credendum.

We must give small credit to a pratler.

20. Molito quaedam referenti credere semper:
Exigua est tribuenda fides, qui multa loquantur.
Believe not lighty every tale
each babler shall relate:
Small credit crave his idle words
that useth much to prate.

Ebrius vinumnon accuset.

Let not the drunken man accuse the wine.

21. Quod potu peccas, ignoscere tu tibi noli:
Nam nullum crimen vini est, sed culpa bibentis.
Thy sinne of surfeit pardon not
do pennance for the same:
Not wine, but drinkers foule abuse
is that deserveth blame.

Amicis consilia credenda.

Counsels are to be credited or committed to our friends.

22. Consilium arcanum tacito committe sodali.
Corporis auxilium medico committe fideli.
Thy secrets to a secret friend,
commit if thou be wise:
Thy crazed body to his trust,
that health by art supplies.

Successus malorum ne te offendat.

Let not the successe or prosperity of evill men offend thee.

23. Successus indignos noli tu ferre molestè:
Indulget fortuna malis, ut laedere possit.
Ungodly persons thriving fast
let not thy mind afright:
For fortune favours wicked men
to worke their further spight.

Futuros casus providendos.

Future chances to be foreseene, or things which may fall out to be looked to before, or prevented.

24. Prospice, qui ve [...]iunt, hos casus esse ferendos:
N [...] levius laedit quicquid praevideris ante.
Provide afore for afterclaps
and arme thy selfe to beare:
So shalt thou in expected broiles
prevent both harme and feare.

Animus in Adversis spe fovendus.

The minde is to be cherished, or comforted with hope in adversity.

25. Rebus in adversis animum submittere noli:
sp [...]m retine: spes una hominem nec morte relinquit,
In time of trouble be not like
a wounded man halfe flaine:
But hope the best, for hope alone
revives the dead againe.

Opportunitas cum contingit, tenenda.

Opportunity is to be taken, when it hapneth or falleth out.

26. Rem tibi quam noscis aptam, dimittere noli:
Fronte caepillata, post est occasio calva.
Neglect no fit occasion for
thy proper good assign'd:
Old father Time hath hairy locks
before, but not behind.

Futura ex praeteritis colligenda.

Things to come are to be knowne by things past.

27. Quod sequitur specta, quod (que) imminet ante videto
Illum imitare Deum qui partem spectat utram (que).
Looke backe what followes, and withall
foresee what stands in place:
This wisedome may that Embleme teach
of Janus double face.

Vitae ratio habenda.

A regard of our life is to bee had: or, wee must have a regard, or consideration of our life.

28. F [...]rtior ut valeas, interdum parcior esto:
pauca voluptati debentur, plura saluti.
Sometimes for health spare dyet use,
for though of dainties store▪
Dame pleasure crave, yet to thy health,
thou art indebted more.

[Page] Multitudine cedendum.

We must give place to the multitude: or, we must yeeld to the most, or to the general sort▪

29. Iudicium populi nunquam contempseris unus:
Ne nulli placeas, dum vis contemnere multos.
The judgement of the multitude
despise not thou alone:
Least while thou many men contem'st
thy selfe be lik'd of none.

Ʋ [...]letudo curanda.

Health is to be cared for: or, we must regard our health above all things.

30. Sit tibi praecipue, quod primum est, cura salutis:
Tempora ne culpes, cum fis tibi cansa doloris.
Of wished health, have chiefest care,
preferre thy health fore all:
If evill dyet make thee sicke
blame not the spring, nor fall.

Somnia non observanda.

Dreames are not to be observed, or regarded.

31. Somnia ne cures: nam mens humana quod optat
Cum vigilat, sperans personum cernit id ipsum.
Regard not dreames, for what mens thoughts
broad waking entertaine:
Or wish, or hope, or muse upon
in sleepe appeares againe.

The third Booke of Morall Precepts.

The Preface.

HOc quicun (que) velis carmen cognoscere lector
Haec praecepta feres, quae sunt gratissima vitae:
Instrue praeceptis animum, nec discere cresses;
Nam sine doctrina vita est quasi mortis imago.
Commoda multa feres: sini autem spreveris illud,
Non me scriptorem, sed te neglexeris ipse.
GOod Reader whosoere thou art,
that takes this Booke in hand▪
These briefe directions, good for life
give heed to understand.
With honest precepts store thy mind
learne well their wise contents:
For life and civill learning void,
deaths image represents.
Great profit mayst thou reape thereby
which if thou not respect:
Not me the writer, but thy selfe
Thou causelesse shalt neglect.
Recte agendo aliorum linguam ne time as.

See that thou feare not the tongue of othe [...] men, in doing rightly: or, doe not feare whil [...] thou dost well.

1. Cum rectè vivas, ne cures verba malorum:
Arbitrii nostri non est quid quis (que) loquatur.
Whereas thou leadst an upright life
regard not causelesse wrongs:
By base detractours offered, for
thou canst not rule mens tongues.

Amici crimen celandum.

The crime of a friend is to be concealed: o [...] the fault of a friend is to bee hid as much a [...] may be.

2. Productus testis, salvo tamen ante pudore,
Quantum cun (que) potes celato crimen amici.
Compel'd by law against thy friend
to witnesse crimes forepast:
Thine honest reputation sav'd
conceale them what thou mayst:

Blandiloquentia suspecta.

Faire speaking, or fawning is suspected, o [...] ▪ suspitious.

3. Sermones blandos blaesos (que) cavere memento:
Simplicitas verisana est, fraus ficta loquendi.
Of fawning words and flattering speech
beware in any wise:
For simple truth unmasked walkes,
but fraud with words disguise.

[Page] Ignava vita fugienda.

A sluggish, idle, or slothfull life, is to be fled, or eschewed.

4. Segnitiem fugito, quae vitae ignavia fertur:
Nam cum animus languet, consumit inertia corpus.
Flie lazie sluggish idlenesse,
which life is full of sloth:
For it doth languish and consume
the minde and body both.

Animus fessus relaxandus.

The mind wearied, is to be released, or re­freshed with recreation.

5. Interpone tuis, interdum gaudia curis,
Ʋt possis animo quemvis sufferre laborem.
To make both mind and body strong
no labour to refuse:
Amidst thy many carefull toyles
some recreation use.

Malo animo neminem reprehendas.

Reprove no man with an evill mind.

6. Alterius dictum aut factum ne carpseris unquam,
Exemplo simili ne te deride at alter.
To carpe at others words, let not
thy wit be ill applyd:
Least by thine owne example taught
another thee deride.

Haredita [...] augenda.

Our estate or inheritance is to be increased.

7. Quae tibi sors dederit tabulis suprema notat [...],
Augendo serva; ne sis quem fama loquatur.
What by deceased friends bequest
is hapned to thy lot:
Keepe and increase that common fame
a spend-thrift call thee not.

Senectus fit munifica.

Let old age be bountifull.

8. Cum tibi divitiae superunt in fine senectae,
Munificus facito vivas, non parcus amicis.
Of riches, if by latter age
a larger portion finde:
Abound in bounty, and abhorre
a greedy misers minde.

Ʋarba attendenda, non os loquentis.

The words are to be attended, not the mouth of the speaker: or, the words are to bee considered, viz. what is spoken; not who speakes.

9. Ʋtile consilium dominus ne despice servi;
Nullius sensum, si prodest, tempseris unquam.
Sage counsell from thy servant true
disdaine not to respect:
Nor any mans advise, that in thy want
thy proper good effect.

Praesenti utendum fortuna.

We must use our present fortune: or, we mu [...] be content with our present estate.

10. Rebus & in censu si non est quod [...]uit ante,
Fac vivas contentas eo quod tempora praebent.
If you behind hand be so cast
that wealth doth want in store.
[...]et let the times afford content
as if thou haddest more.

Ʋxor spe dotis non ducenda.

A wife is not to be married in hope of dow­ry, portion, or goods.

1. Ʋxorem fuge, ne ducas sub nomine dotis:
Nec retinere velis, si coeperit esse molesta▪
[...]ake not a wife for portion sake
least wicked she doe prove:
[...]or if she falsifie her troth,
admit no more her love.

Alieno sapere exemplo.

To be wise, by an other mans example: or, we must learne to be wise, by other mens ex­amples.

[...]2. Multorum disce exemplo, quae facta sequaris,
Quae fugias: vita est nobis aeliena magistra▪
[...] many mens examples learne
what to imbrace or flee:
[...]or others life, in this behalfe
may thine instructor be.

Nihil ultra vires.

Nothing is to be tried above our strength or power.

[...]3. Quod potes id tentes, operis ne pondere pressus
Succumbat labor, & frustra tentata relinquas.
[...]ttempt not mattets past thy strength
least overprest with paine,
[...]y labours faile, and so thy toyle
be undertooke in vaine▪

[Page] Consentire videtur qui tacet.

He that holdeth his peace, or is silent, do [...] seeme to consent.

14. Quod nosti haud recte factum nolito tacere,
Ne videare malos imitari velle tacendo.
That which is bad, conceale thou not
nor closely keepe it in:
Least thou thereby dost seeme to be
partaker of their sinne.

Rigor favore temperandu [...].

Rigour is to be tempered by favour.

15. Judicis auxilium sub iniqua lege rogato:
Ipsae etiam leges cupiunt ut jure regantur.
In thy oppression for reliefe
unto the Judge make knowne:
The lawes themselves with equity
are governed each one.

Feras quae culpatua pateris.

See that thou beare those things which th [...] sufferest by thine owne fault.

16. Quod merito pateris potienter ferre memento:
Cum (que) reus tibi sis, ipsum te judice damna.
When for thy fault thou stripes deserv'st
with patience beare the smart:
And be thine owne condemning judge
when thou true guilty art.

Multa legenda, sed cum judicio.

Many things are to be read, but with judgeme [...]

17. Multa legas facito, perlectis perlege multa:
Nam miranda ca [...]nt, sed non credenda poe [...]
[...]ongst many things that thou hast read
reade many more with heed:
[...]or Poets sing those things are strange
and not to be believ'd.

Modeste in convivio loquendum.

We must speake modestly at a feast or ban­quet.

18. Inter convivas fac sis sermone modestus,
Ne dicare loquax dum vis urbanus haberi.
At feasts and banquets busie not
thy tongue with too much chat:
Least whil'st thou wouldst be pleasant thought,
thy talke be laughed at.

Iracundia uxoris non formidanda.

The angrynesse of wives is not to be feared.

19. Coniugis iratae noli tu verba timere:
Nam lacrymis struit insidias dum foemina plorat.
Feare not the words of thy curst wife
although she sheddeth teares:
For when a woman seemes to weepe
she layeth then her snares.

Quaesitis utendum, non abutendum.

We must use things gotten, but we must not abuse or mispend them.

20. Ʋtere quaesitis, sed ne videaris abuti:
Qui sua cons [...]munt, cum deest, aliena sequuntur.
Use that thou hast, abuse it not
nor wastefully it spend:
They that consume their owne estates,
lie hanging on their friend.

[Page] Mors non formidanda.

Death is not to be feared.

21. Factibiproponas mortem non esse timendam
Quae bona si non est finis tamen illa malorum est.
Thinke not of death when it doth come
as it too much to feare:
VVhich death although it is not good
yet is the end of care.

Ʋxor loquax, si proba, ferenda.

An honest wife is to be borne with althou [...] she be a pratler, or a shrew of her tongue.

22. Ʋxoris linguam, si frugiest, ferre memento:
Nam (que) malum est nil velle pati, ne [...] posse tacere.
Beare with a shrew, whose talking tends
thy profit to procure:
Unhappy he that for his wealth
will not a word indure.

Pietas erga parentes.

Piety, or godlinesse towards parents.

23. Dilige non agrâ charos pietate parentes:
Nec matrem offendas, dum vis bonus esse paren [...]
VVith inward and religious love
thy parents both imbrace:
And to offend thy mother deare
forbeare in any case.

The fourth Booke of Morall Precepts.

The Preface.

SEcuram quicun (que) cupis traducere vitam,
Nec vitiis haerere animum, quae morihus obsunt;
[...]ec praecepta tibi semper relegenda memento:
[...]uenies aliquid, in quo te utare magistro.
[...]ho ere thou art, that dost desire
a strickt life to observe:
[...]ith minde secure, from vices free
which doth from vertue swarve:
[...]emember thou these precepts read,
Reading beare them in mind:
And thou shalt something there alwaies
for thy instruction finde.
Divitiarum contemptus.
The contempt of riches.
[Page] 1. Despice divitias, si vis animo esse beatus;
Quas qui suspiciunt mendicant semper avari.
If in thy mind thou wouldst be blest,
then riches do detest:
The miser though with store be fraught,
with want is still supprest.

Vivere ad naturam optimam.

To live according to nature is the best.

2. Commoda natura nullo tibi tempore deerunt.
Si contentus eo fueris, quod postulat usus.
Dame natures gifts and benefits
shall never wanting be:
If thou desire to have no more
but for necessity.

Res ratione agenda.

Matters are to be done by reason: or, thing [...] are to be managed or performed by wisdome▪

3. Cum sis incautus, nec rem ratione gnbernes:
Noli fortunam, quae non est, dicere caecam.
If ought misfall in thy affaires
by thy unwary minde:
Blame in no wise that which is not
in calling fortune blinde.

Amor pecuniae ad usum.

The love of money ought to bee onely fo [...] our use.

4. Dilige denarium, sed parcè dilige formam:
Quam nemo sanctus, nec honestus optat habere.
Love money thou, but sparingly,
love not the forme or sight;
The shew whereof no honest man
doth greedily delight.

In valetudine ne opibus parcas.

Thou mayst not spare thy riches in sicknesse.

5. Cum fueris locuples, corpus curare memento:
Aeger dives habet nummos, sed non habet ipsum.
For healths recovery, if rich
see thou spare not thy pelfe:
The rich man sicke, hath money store,
yet wanteth he himselfe.

Castigatio paterna ferenda.

Fatherly correction is to be borne.

6. Verb [...]ra cum tuleris discens aliquando magistri;
Fer patris imperium, cum verbis exit in iram.
Since thou hast borne thy masters stripes
when thou a scholler wart:
Thy Fathers counsell beare when he
breakes out in speeches tart.

Certa & utilia agenda.

Things sure and profitable are to be done.

7. Res age quae prosunt: rursus vitare memento,
In quibus error inest, nec spes est certa laboris.
Those things that profitable are,
see that thou do commence:
And errours shun, wherein there is
no hope of recompence.

Libenter donandum.

We must give willingly.

8. Quod donare potes, gratis concede roganti:
Nam rectè fecisse bonis, in parte lucr [...]rum est.
Give freely unto him that askes
that which thou canst well give:
For to do well unto good men
is gainefull whiles you live.

Suspicio statim expedienda.

Suspition, or that which we suspect, is to be sought out and prevented presently, or a mis­chiefe is to be searched out straight way.

9. Quod tibi suspectum est confestim discute quid si [...];
Nam (que) solent, primo quae sunt neglecta, nocere.
Inquire with speed what thou suspects
and quickly sift it out:
For things neglected at the first
much harme doth bring no doubt.

Ʋenus abstinentia cohibenda.

Lust is to be kept under by abstinence.

10. Cum te detineat veneris damnosa voluptas:
Indulgere gulae noli, quae ventris amica est.
If thou to venery beest given
which pleasure damne thee must:
Then pamper not too much thy selfe
which is a friend to lust.

Homo malus, fera pessima.

An evill man is the worst wilde beast.

11. Cum tibi proponas animalia cuncta timere:
Ʋnum hominem tibi praecipio plus esse timendum.
VVhen thou dost thinke of hurtfull beasts,
and those most dreadfull are:
One wicked man unto thee is
in mischiefe greater farre.

[Page] Sapientia fortitudini praeferenda.

Wisedome is to be preferred before valour, manhood or fortitude.

12. Cum tibi praev [...]lidae fuerint in corpore vires,
Fac sapias: sic tu poteris vir fortis haberi.
When thou great strength of body hast,
let wisdome go with thee:
So shalt thou then of every one
a strong man counted be.

Amicus cordis medicus.

A friend is the Physitian of the heart: or, a friend is a sure physitian.

13. Auxilium a notis petito, si forte laboras:
Nec quisquā melior medicus, quam fidus amicus.
VVhen thou art sicke, seeke helpe from those
thou knowst thy good intend:
No better physicke can be had
then is a faithfull friend.

Sacrificium, spiritus contribulatus.

A contrite spirit, or a heart troubled, and sor­rowfull for sin, is a sacrifice.

14. Cum sis ipse nocens, moritur cur victima pro te?
Stultit [...]a est morte alterius sperare salutem.
Sith thou offendst, why is a beast
flaine for thy offering?
Its vaine to hope for health by death
of beasts, or any thing.

Amicus ex moribus deligendus.

A friend is to be chosen by his manners and behaviour.

15. Cum tibi vel socium, vel fidum quaeris amicum;
Non tibi fortuna est hominis sed vita petenda.
If a companion thou wouldst have
and a true faithfull friend:
Regard not what mans fortune is,
but what his life pretend.

Avari [...]ia vitanda.

Covetousnesse is to be shunned or avoyded.

16. Ʋtere quafitis opibus, fuge nomen avari:
Quid tibi divitiae prosunt, si pauper abunda [...].
Despise the name of avarice,
use goods which thou hast got:
For what doth wealth thee benefit,
if that you use it not?

Ʋoluptas inimica fam [...].

Pleasure is an enemy to fame, or to good name.

17. S [...] famam servare cupis dum vivis, honestam,
Fac fugias animo, quae sunt mala gaudia vitae.
If thou desirest during life,
to keepe an honest name:
See in thy minde those pleasures shun
which are of evill fame.

Senem etiam delirum ne irriseris.

Thou shalt not mocke an old man although he dote.

18. Cum sapias animo, noli irridere senectam:
Nam quicun (que) senex, se [...]s [...] puerilis in illo est.
When thou art wise, deride thou not
old age, as a vaine thing:
For age in time, the strongest man
doth unto childhood bring.

Opes fluxae, ars perpetua.

Riches are vanishing: Art is perpetuall.

19. Disce aliquid: nam cum subito fortuna recedit,
Ars remanet, vitam (que) hominis non d [...]serit unquā.
Some trade or science learn, least that
thy fortune doe decay:
For Art remaines as long as life
within mans body stay.

Mores ex verbis cogniti.

Manners are knowne by words or speeches.

20. Omnia perspicito tacitus, quae quis (que) loquatur:
Sermo hominum mores & celat, & indicat idem.
Thou being still, marke well the speech
of all which most reveale:
Mens manners when they doe discourse
or closely them conceale.

Ars usu juvanda.

Art is to be helped by use.

21. Exerce studium quamvis perceperis artem▪
Ʋt cura ingenium, sic & manus adjuvat usum.
Thy study exercise although
in learning thou exceed:
For that doth helpe supply the wit
as use the hands at need.

Vitae contemptus.

The contempt of life.

22. Multum ne cures venturi tempora lethi:
Non timet is mort [...], qui scit contemnere vitam.
Care not too much for time to come
of death that fatall knife:
He feareth not deaths stroake, who makes
no reckoning of life.

Discendum & docendum.

VVe must learne, and we must teach.

23. Disee, sed à doctis; indoctos ipse doceto:
Propaganda etenim rerum doctrina bonarum.
Learne thou, but of the wise, the simple teach,
that which thou'st learn'd and red:
For why the knowledge of good things
abroad are to be spred.

Bibendi ratio.

The moderation or measure of drinking.

24. Hoc tibi quod prosit, si tu vis vivere sanus:
Morbi causa mali est homini quando (que) voluptas.
VVith moderation see you drinke
if thou wouldst live in health:
For ill diseases pleasure brings
oft times to man by stealth.

Ne damnes quod probav [...]ris.

Thou mayst not condemne that which thou hast approved, or commended.

25. Laudaris quodcun (que), palam, quodcun (que) probaris,
Hoc vide ne rursus levitatis crimine damnes.
That which thou op'nly hast allow'd
and prais'd with might and maine:
Upon small cause, through levity
condemne thou not againe.

[Page] Circumspectus in utra (que) fortuna.

Be thou circumspect in either fortune, or both estates. Looke well about thee: or be thou very considerate, both in prosperity and adversity.

26. Tranquillis rebus quae sunt adversa caveto:
Rursus in adversis mel [...]us sperare memento.
In calmest times remember stormes
and hard adversity:
So in adverse and cruell times
hope for prosperity.

Studio crescit sapientia.

VVisedome doth increase by study.

27. Discerene cesses; cura sapientia creseit:
Rara datur longo prudentia temporis usu.
Cease not to learne, for wisedome so
by study greater rise:
Sage wisedome rare, comes by long use
of studies exercise:

Parcè laudandum.

VVe must praise sparingly.

28. Parcè laudato: nam quem tu saepe probaris,
Ʋna dies, qualis fuerit, monstrabit, amicus.
Be sparing in thy praise, for why
whom thou dost oft commend:
One time or other will declare
whether he be thy friend.

Discere ne pudeat.

Be not ashamed to learne.

29. Ne pudeat, quae nescieris, te velle docer [...]:
Scire aliquid laus est; pudor est nil discere velle.
Be not ashamed to be taught
that which thou knowest not,
Its praise to know, but not to learne,
an Index of a sot.

Rebus utendum ad sobrietatem.

We must use things soberly.

30. Cum Ʋenere & Baccho lis est & juncta voluptas:
Quod lautum est animo complectere, sed fuge lites.
With wine and women there is strife
and pleasure joyn'd in one:
Which though they pleaseth well thy mind
yet let them both alone.

Tristibus & tacitis non fidendum.

We must not trust sad and still men.

31. Demissos animo actacitos vitare memento:
Quà flumen placidum est, forsan latet altius vnda▪
The heavy, sad, and silent man
see that thou ever shun:
The water flouds most deepest ar [...]
where Rivers smoothest run.

Sors sorti conferenda.

Lot is to be compared to lot: or, wee are to compare our estate with the estate of others.

32. Cum tibi displiceat rerum fortuna tuarum,
Alteriu [...] specta quo sis discrimine pejor.
When as thy fortunes thee displease
looke upon others so:
That with a difference thou mayst waigh
thine owne by others woe.

[Page] Ʋltra vires nihil aggrediendum.

Nothing is to be undertaken, or attempted beyond our strength.

33 Quod potes id tenta, nam littus carpere remis
Tu [...]ius est multo quàm velum tendere in altum.
Doe that thou canst: for by sea side
we safer use the Ores,
Then in the deepe to hoyse up saile,
Farre from the shallow shores.

Cum justo ini (que) non contendendum.

We must not contend unequally with a just man.

34. Contra hominem justum prave contenderi noli:
Semper enim Deus injustas ulciscitur ir as.
With wrong against the upright man
In no wise doe contend:
For God doth poure revenge on them,
the just that so offend.

Fortuna utraque aeque ferenda.

Either fortune, or both estates is to be borne equally or alike.

35. Ereptis opibus noli gaudere querendo:
Sed gaude potius, tibi si contingat habere.
Lament not for those goods thou'st loft
nor be not over sad:
But in those goods thou hast, if ought,
with inward joy be glad.

Ab amico quid fer [...]ndum.

VVhat is to be borne from a friend.

[Page] 36. Est jactura gravis, quae sunt amittere damnis:
Sunt quaedam, quae ferre decet patienter amicum.
The losse of goods, or of estate
to lose most grievous are:
Some things there be, becommeth friends
of friends mildly to beare.
viz. As speeches, or hurts done at unawares, or the like.

Tempori non confidendum.

VVe must not trust to the time.

37. Tempora longa tibi noli promittere vitae:
Quocun (que) ingrederis, sequitur mors corporis um­bra.
Promise thou not unto thy selfe
long time of life or daies:
Where ere thou go'st, death follows thee
as shadow doth alwaies.

Deus quibus placandus.

VVith what things God is to be pacified.

38. Thure deum placa, vitulum sine crescat aratro:
Ne credas placare deum, dum caede litatur.
God pacifie with Frankincense,
let Calfe grow for the plow:
No man can God appease while he
beasts sacrifice allow▪

A potentioribus laesus dissimula.

Dissemble, or hide thy griefe, when thou art hurt of mightier men.

39. Cede lecum laesus fortuna, cede potenti:
C [...]dere qui potuit, prodesse aliquando valebit.
Thou being hurt of mightier men
yeeld thou and hide thy mood:
He that could hurt, he able is
sometime to doe thee good.

Castiga teipsum.

Correct or reprove thy selfe.

40. Cum quid peccaris, castiga te ipse subiude:
Ʋulnera dum sanas, dolor est medicina doloris.
When thou in any thing offendst
correct thy selfe be sure:
For whilst thou wounds dost heale, griefe is
of griefe to thee a cure.

Amicus mutatus non vituperandus.

A friend being changed, is not to be dispraised.

41. Damnaris nunquam post longum tempus amicum
Mutavit mores: sed pignora prima memento.
Who long hath beene thy friend, condemne
thou not, as thee behoove:
He changed hath his manners: but
remember his first love.

Beneficiorum collatio attendenda.

The bestowing of benefits is to be attended▪

42. Gratior officiis quo sis mage, charior esto:
Ne nomen sube as, quod ducitur officiperda.
By how much more thou deare to any art,
in duties be more kind;
Left thou doe undergoe the name
of an unthankfull minde.

Suspicionem tolle.

Take away suspition, or be not suspicious.

43. Suspectus caveas, ne sis miser omnibus horis:
Nam timidis & suspectis, aptissima mors est.
Beware lest given to jealousie
thou live not void of strife:
To fearefull and suspicious men
death better is than life.

Humanitas erga servos.

Humanity, compassion, or courtesie, is to be exercised towards servants.

44. Cum fueris servos proprios mercatus in usus,
Et famulos dicas, homines tamen esse memento.
When thou shalt bondslave servants buy
for thine owne need, and then
Dost call them so, yet neverthelesse
remember they are men.

Occasionem rei commodae ne praetermittas.

Thou maist not omit, or let passe the occasion of a commodious matter, or a speciall com­modity offered.

45. Quam primum rapienda tibi est occasio prima,
Ne rursus quaeras, quae jam neglexeris ante.
The first occasion earnestly
lay hold of evermore:
Lest thou againe dost seeke, which thou
neglected hast before.

Non laetandum de repentino obitu.

We must not rejoyce at the untimely or sud­den death, or departure of wicked men.

46. Morte repentina noli gandere malorum:
Foelices obeunt, quorum sine crimine vita est.
Rejoyce not at the sudden death
of lewd and wicked men;
They're counted happy in their death
whose life faultlesse hath beene.

Pauper simulatum vitet amicum.

A poore man, let him shun a dissembled friend, or, let a poore man beware of a counterfeit friend.

47. Cum conjux tibi sit, nec res, & fama laboret;
Vitandum ducas inimicum nomen amici▪
When thou'st a wife of substance small
whose fame her selfe convince:
Beware of those that haunt thy house
under friendships pretence.

Junge studium.

Joyne study to study, or study still.

48. Cum tibi contingat studio cognoscere multa:
Fac discat multa, & vites nescire docer.
When it doth chance with learning much
by study thou art fraught:
See thou eschew blinde ignorance,
unwilling to be taught.

Brevitas memoriae amica.

Brevity, or shortnesse, is a friend, or a helpe to memory.

49. Miraris verbis nudis me scribere versus?
Hos brevitas sensus fecit conjungere binos.
That I meanly to verses write
dost wonder thus I doe:
The shortnesse of the sense hath made
me joyne them two and two.

The living speeches of CATO, a Dying man.

C Heere up my panting feeble heart, feare not to die,
A ll must die once, some twice, such is mans destiny.
T ime finish that which God allots, welcome sweet death;
O Lord to thee I yeeld my soule who gave me breath.

A Post-script to the Reader.

NOw I this worke performed have
and sent it to the Presse:
I know that some will call me foole,
and sure I am no lesse,
For printing that, which long agoe
by others was set out:
Which is untruth, as I can prove,
if any thereof doubt.
For though it hath translated beene
as I doe not deny
Grammatically into prose;
yet not in poetry,
As I haved one, therefore I say,
who blames my enterprise,
If they can finde no other fault,
I say they are not wise.
Farewell.

To I. B. that Grammatically translated CATO.

HAd I but seen thy worke before
I finish'd up had mine,
I would have mended every line
by that bright lamp of thine.
Who taken hath such paines therein
to give each word his due;
That no translator I have knowne,
hath done the like but you.
And hadst thou set those lines on feet
that thou hast done in prose:
Thy friends alone would not thee praise,
but even thy very foes;
But thou didst it for schollers good
that they may profit finde:
Not for thy owne glory and praise,
which shewes a noble mind.
Wherefore for this thy love thou bearst
to infants yet unborne:
Thy name, thy fame, and memory
shall never be outworne.
Walter Gosnold.
Three Leſſons tha• o …

Three Lessons tha [...] old CATO (as he did lie o [...] his death-bed) gave unto his young sonn [...] CATO to be observed and kept, transla­ted first out of Dutch into English prose, by o [...] Laurence Singleton, and now metamorpho­sed into English metre, with the rest of his most worthy Precepts, by W. G.

O happy is that man, which seeth others fall
And can avoid the snare that they were caught with­a [...]
THy wife being▪ wise, make her the closet
Of thy breast; else not, for she'le disclose it.
For never yet was man so well aware,
But first or last, was caught in womans snare.
Then triall make, before thou dost her trust
In any thing, thou fearst she'le be unjust:
As here old Cato's sonne did wisely try
Whether his wife could keepe his secrecy.

To the Reader.

GEntle Reader, having already pre­sented thee with many good Lessons, and morall Instruction of Cato, which daily and hourely he taught unto his young sonne: I likewise have thought fit, to present unto thy view three precepts more, which he left unto him upon his death-bed, to be observed and kept above all other Precepts and Commaudements formerly left him in writing, which rust had almost consumed, and time buried in oblivion, had I not by chancc lighted upon them, in an old Antiquaries library, and put upon their backes new liveries, their old ones being quite out of fashion, and therefore altogether out of re­quest with those which otherwise might be their soci­ates, and fellow-companions, being almost an hundred thirty yeers since they were last printed, and translated out of Dutch into our mother tongue. Wherefore having taken such paines in the metamorphosing of them to the same habite or stile of the rest of his [Page] most worthy Precepts, I trust they will not be un­welcome unto thee, being no lesse worthy of ac­ceptation than the former: for as my Authour wished good in translating them into English prose, so like­wise doe I in metamorphosing them into English metre, following my copy in the phrase of our speech, without adding or diminishing, either in substance or circumstance, as neere as possibly I could. If any then be so curious, as to distaste these my poore indeavours, for the plainnesse of the verse, or the dislike of the Authour, being a heathen, Ile make no other apologie for my selfe and him, but this: For the first, it is the height of my ambition to adorne every action with the most plainest proper object, especially where I have a patterne laid before me for my imitation; as for the latter, it is no shame for us to learne wit of Heathens, neither is it materiall in whose schoole wee take out a good lesson. Howsoever therefore my unpolished worke shall be accepted at thy hands, yet shall I not have cause to repent me of my labonr, for the benefit that may come thereby, and so I conclude,

Yours assured, though there be no assurance amongst men. WALTER GOSNOLD.

A caveat to all young married men, to beware how they lay open themselves, or trust too farre at first to their wives secresie in any waighty matter, tending either to the losse of their lives, goods, or good name, before they be well grounded in their wives honesty and fidelity.

IF thou'st a wife, in any case
shew not thy selfe so kinde:
As to relate, each waighty cause
unto her of thy minde.
Untill that thou hast tryall made
of her that is but young;
And dost perceive whether that she
be mistris of her tongue.
Or else too late you will repent
that hastily you told
In secrecy such things to her
which bluntly shee'l unfold,
Before her Gossips, when she meets
with other pratling wives:
Bringing their husbands many times
in perill of their lives.
As here you may right well behold
in this ensuing story,
The falshood of young Cato's wife
that should have been his glory.
W. G.

How a wife is sympathis'd to a vine, being both very usefull, and yet very hurt­full.

HOw Wives compared are to vines
I shall not need recite:
For Poets many in this straine
endeavoured have to write.
And set it forth with best of skill.
I then shall doe amisse
To tautologies: yet briefly,
in few words thus it is:
The fruitfull Vine, and vertuous Wife
are both for Mans delight:
For shade and comfort in the day,
and solace in the night.
To good ends both of them were made,
and so they both are still:
But oftentimes they are abus'd
unto most dangerous ill.
And then we finde it so fall out,
that these two weaker things
Doe overcome the strong and wise
yea Emperours and Kings.
W. G.

A loving exhortation to all young married women, that they discover not that in the day, which their husbands acquaint them withall in the night.

YOu whose resplendent beauty sets on fire
Your Husbands love: and whose modest attire
Suits their estates, making the world admire
Your comely personage, and sectes desire.
Let not your tongues be as a piercing dart
Or two-edg'd sword, to cut in twaine their heart,
With words of horrour, to their gentle eare
Which no mild Husband can endure to heare.
Or fondly tattle to your friends abroad
The secrets of your best beloved Lord.
This is a thing befits not your estate.
Let Beldames scould, and idle Gossips prate.
More modest carriage, should be in your yeares
What age so ere you are, as well appeares.
For marry with a Virgin, old or young
She scarcely can offend, but with her tongue.
Then strive to tame that little member stout
Though set on fire of hell, or plucke it out.
To live at peace else, it will be a wonder
When in the house, wives maketh such a thunder,
Or privatly, doth whisper to their friends
Their Husbands secret counsels to vile ends
Babling what commeth next unto their tongues
With heavy sighes, as if they'd spit their longues
This full out is as ill, as all the rest
For both are bad, I know not which is best.
But some will scould at home, and prate abroad
Thats worst of all, and most to be abhord.
Such wives there be, i'd wish man no worse evill
Then to be plagu'd, with such a shrewish devill.
Abandon therefore all you that are wives
Such double wrongs, and quickly mend your lives.
Tis not your beauties will your husbands please,
If you be guilty of such crimes as these.
Nor yet your smiles, and flattering lookes availe,
When you are given so much to scold and raile.
Without any just cause at girds and fits
As if you were distract, out of your wits,
Disgracing quite your hansome comely parts
Having faire faces, but false wicked hearts.
Then in a word, be as your Emblem shewes
Loving unto your husbands, and not shrews,
For to have wives, it is the worst of evils,
To looke like Saints, and yet be worse than devils.
So leave I you, each woman in her place,
Desiring God assist you with his grace.
W. G.

Three Lessons that old Cato (as he did lie in his bed) gave unto his sonne Cato, to be observed and kept, above all other Precepts and Commandements formerly left him in writing.

CAto being wise, and of an understanding wit,
Roms government he had, in judgment seat did sit,
And came to such high honor, & so great estate
That none in all the City were so fortunate.
Great offices he had, who did them well supply
Performing worthy deeds, deserving memory.
This Cato had a son, who was of his owne name
As Authors manifold, do witnes still the same.
When he was very old, & long time had been sick,
Nature being spent, not finding helpe by phisicke,
Perceiving i [...] himselfe the day of death drew neere
He called to him his sonne, whom he loved deare,
And in most decent wise, to him he did declare
His mind and full intent, as after you shall heare.
Saying, my deare and loving sonne, its long that I
Have lived here, my time draws neer that I must die
And leave this wretched world, w ch is ful of misery,
Deaths stroke uncertain is, yet may one it descry.
Wherfore I gladly would thee teach while I have breath
how to behave thy self, my son, after my death
That thou unto the Common-wealth maist ever be
A member sound & good, from wicked vices free.
And so alwaies to live, without reproach or shame
To the joy of friends, & increase of thy good name.
Remember many precepts I have left behind,
Writ heretofore of me, for to instruct thy mind,
Which to thy profit may redownd, if thou hast wit
Those documents to follow, as becomes thee fit.
Yet notwithstanding all those rules & lessons good
I formerly have given thee, to be understood,
There be three more, w ch I wil charge thee to observ
And keep'bove all the rest, & not frō thē to swarve.

The first Precept.

THe first precept that I of thee require
And charge thee keep, is never to aspire
To any Office of high dignity
For to advance thy selfe, and pedigree
By the Emperour, who is free to give
So long as thou sufficient hast to live.
Or any other Prince thy state to raise
To a more higher pitch of greater praise.
For he that is content, lives most at rest.
The meane estate is ever counted best
Most sure it is, and most comfort doth bring,
And he that hath it, hath asmuch as King
Or Emperour may have, no man therefore
Ought to demand or aske of God no more.
Wherefore great folly tis I say for such
As have enough, and yet repine and grutch
At that they have: yea very dangerous
That of preferment art so covetous
And through desire of honour, too greedy
To put themselves so much in jeopardy
To lose both their estates, there lives and lands,
Their goods, and all they have within their hands.
For he that doth presume above his state
Instead of love, incurres but deadly hate.
As daly we may see, where greatnesse is,
Their envie doth not want, nor malice misse.
Gainst those that seeke to be promoted high
Through false reports, are faint in prison lie
And lose all that they have, such is their fall
That have enough, yet would have more than all.
Honour is that the mind doth covet most,
And no dishonour like that honour lost.
And truly my beloved sonne be wise,
Great Princes are of divers qualities,
And sometimes overcome through false report
And flattery of rich and greater sort.
Gainst those subjects, who are most faithfull true
I then advise thee keepe my precepts few.

The second Precept.

I charge thee not prolong, whilst thou hast breath
The life of him that hath deserved death;
Especially whose evill wicked fame
Hath beene a common scandall to his name.
For all those evils which he after doth,
Or moveth others for to doe, insooth
Thou guilty art, as is himselfe therein
And art partaker with him of the sinne.
And as the old and common proverbe have,
He that a thiefe doth from the gallows save,
He for himselfe a hangman doth provide,
Or keepeth one in store, as oft betide,
To doe him an ill turne in time to come;
Of this beware, my deare and loving sonne.

The third Precept.

THe last precept ile give thee in my life
For so observe, is first to prove thy wife
To know if she can secret keepe those things
Which touch thy honest name, discredit brings,
Before to her, thou breake thy secrecy,
Whereon the losse of lands and life doth lie.
For there be multitudes, I doe suppose
That nothing can keepe secret, but disclose
All things that they have knowledge of, or finde
To be reported to their fickle mind.
And few the number be, that trusty are
Secrets to keepe, and never them declare.
After that Cato had thus given his sonne
These three Commandements, and with them done;
Willing they should observed be and kept,
He shortly after with his fathers slept;
And yeelded this his mortall brittle life,
To deaths remorslesse stroke, that fatall knife▪
In few yeeres after Cato his decease
Had of these earthly cares a full release,
His sonne in learning, being excellent
Belov'd of poore, and those of high descent
Amongst the noble, and ignoble sort
Of Rome: for's vertuous life, and good report▪
The Emperour thereof being inform'd
By trusty friends, how well he was adorn'd
With courteous, modest, kinde behaviour▪
He unto him had such a liking favour,
That presently his sonne, was his intent
For to commit, unto his government.
That to the end, in all good science he
And literature, might instructed be.
And for the accomplishment of this, amaine
He sends for Cato, and him entertaine
Into the Court, and put into his hand,
Divers affaires of weight, and great command,
Shewing him daily friendships more or lesse,
And pleasures great, abounding in excesse;
And at the last, preferr'd him with great grace
Vnto that worthy office and high place
Of the sole rule and Cities government
Of famous Rome; wherewith he was content.
When Cato on him had his office tooke,
And fortune smiling on him seem'd to looke,
According to the custome, it did betide.
He through the City in great pomp did ride,
Where he did meet a mighty company
Leading a thiefe, which was condemn'd to die,
Towards the place of execution,
For to be hang'd with expedition,
Being a lusty proper handsome man.
Wherefore Cato had pity on him, an
Divers that were there, moving him thereto,
Saying, he by his office might let goe
At his first entring, any prisoner,
Which would to all, redowne his praises farre.
Cato with pity, being then indu'd,
Willing to satisfie the multitude,
Without advisement, did the prisoner save,
Thinking thereby, the glory streight to have,
Of his promotion knowne, and the great love
He had to prisoners poore, which did him move,
Regarding not, or calling unto minde
The good advise, his father left behinde.
In short time after his preferment, he
Performing his office in amitie
Vnto the Cities wealth, comfort of all
The Inhabitors thereof great and small.
As he lay in his bed taking no rest,
For the continuall cares that did molest
His troubled thoughts, about the great affaires
Of his said office; straightwaies he repaires
And recollects those Precepts at the last
His wise father had given him long since past.
So that a long time after, night by night
He called them to minde as his delight,
[...]onsidering with himselfe, how that he
[...]ad broken two, and rest but one of three
[...]hich was to prove, if that his wife could keepe
[...]cret those things, that should to light but peepe
[...]downe to his dishonour, with fortune cost
[...]is life and goods in danger to be lost.
[...]to determin'd then within his mind
[...]o prove his wife, as's father had assign'd.
[...]nd thereupon a servant of his owne
[...]hat trusty was, and to himselfe well knowne
[...]e did command the Emperours sonne to take
Whom he had to instruct) all speed to make
[...]nd secretly him to convey iwis
[...]nto a trusty faithfull friend of his,
[...]nd a great nobleman, there to remaine
[...]ntill that he did send for him againe.
[...]hich was performed, as he did direct
[...]or one there vvas, did any thing suspect.
[...]en shortly after on a certaine night
[...]erceiving that his vvife vvas in good plight
[...]d broad avvake, began to sigh and mourne
[...]d privily vvithin himselfe to grone.
[...]hich thing his vvife perceiving did require
[...] him to know the cause, who did admire
[...]o see his heavinesse. Quoth she my deere,
[...]n griefe, let sorrow cease, be of good cheere,
[...]d all things take (my husband) in good part.
[...] as a wife, I love thee vvith my heart.
[...]en turned he himselfe unto his vvife,
Sighing so sore, as if shee hal'd for life,
Saying sweet loving wife, and tender heart,
I have a secret matter to impart
To thee, if that I wist thou couldst be mute,
Though some to thee should make continuall su [...]
To know thereof, which stands upon my life,
Honour and goods; therefore my loving wife,
Shouldst thou reveale, what I doe thee injoyne
Be secret in, you undoe mee and mine.
Then answered his wife, seemiug to cry,
Saying, deare husband, I had rather dye,
Then open any secret you declare;
Therefore such speeches, husband, pray forbear [...]
Alas! what woman think you mee to be?
That cannot keepe your secrets close, quoth sh [...]
Have you not seene my honesty thro [...]ghout,
And good carriage; wherefore then do you don [...]
Of me? wh o knows your welfare in such measur [...]
That I esteem't above all worldly treasure?
Well, my beloved spouse and bedfellow,
Said Cato then, seeing you thus doe vow,
And that I heare you doe so friendly speake,
My hidden secrets to you I will breake,
Laying my heart wide open unto thee,
Whom I doe trust 'bove all assuredlie;
For I doe love thee, my deare wife so well,
That nothing can I keepe from thee, but tell
What ere it be, I either know or doe,
And much the more, because thou dost mee woo [...]
Some two daies past, as I did homeward come▪
[...]here met with mee, th' emperours onely sonne,
[...]nd used me most vildely in his words,
[...]nd naughty deeds, as youth such vice affords,
[...]hich stirred me to such an angry rage,
[...]hat I could not forbeare, my fury swage,
[...]ing with waighty affaires troubled,
[...]nd overcome with drinke, I strucke him dead
[...] heat of blood, (not leaving mee to vex)
[...]hich doth me grieve, and much my soule per­plex.
[...]urther, my furious mood to satisfie,
[...]nd deadly hate, that in my breast did lye,
[...]ript his body, and tooke out his heart,
[...]nd caus'd it to be drest, with best of art
[...]ost finely spiced, as a man would wish,
[...]nd sent it to his parents, as a dish
[...]f dainty curious meat, who were not nice,
[...]o eate thereof as much as them suffice,
[...]ot knowing it to be that which it was.
[...]hus I my anger did revenge, alas,
[...]hat shall I doe? for now I know right well,
[...]hat this most wicked deed, which hath befell
[...]e to commit, is a most shamefull act;
[...]nd I am very sorry for the fact.
[...]t too late it is, and above mans powe [...]
[...]or to recall againe the day and houre
[...]hats past; wherefore seeing that it is done,
[...] secret keepe't, reveale it unto none:
[...]r I ne're shew'd it any in my life,
[...]or never will, but to thy selfe, deare wife,
[...] whom depends my only stay and trust,
That you will keepe my secrets firme and just,
And knowing you right-well, alwaies to be
A sober modest woman, as I see,
No wanton idle gossiper abroad
A thing in women much to bee abhor'd;
I am the more imboldned to impart
To you sweet love the secrets of my heart.
When as his wife the circumstance had heard
Of all the matter, no time was deferd
For to deplore with heavie heart and meed
The sinfull act of this most wicked deed.
Yet solemnly she vowd to have a care
That during life, she nere would it declare
To any one: thus having past that night
With heavinesse, untill the morning light,
And after a small time, till it befell
A Gentlewoman, that neere by did dwell
Within the City, her familiar friend
Who alwaies knew her mind to the full end
To whom she us'd continually expresse
All her whole secret counsell, more or lesse.
As they discoursed had of many things,
The wife of Cato sighs, her hands she wrings.
Wherefore this Gentlewoman askt of her
What caus'd her griefe, her sadnesse and demur
And why she sighed many times, saying,
Good Mistris shew me, is it any thing?
Are you with griefe possessed, doe you find?
O [...] heavinesse in stomacke, heart, or mind?
Yea truely very great, said Cato's wife,
But I dare not reveale it, for my life;
I'd rather die, and lay my head full low,
Then any one alive should of it know.
Mistris, said she, distracted were all those,
That would such hidden secrets ere disclose▪
If you shew't me, i'd rather that my teeth
Were pulled ont, or those my eyes that seeth,
And that my toung were torne out with reproach,
Then I to any one such things should broach.
May I you trust, the wife of Cato saith?
Yea said the Gentlewoman by my faith.
Well then your faithfull promise to me give,
I promise you, said tother, while I live,
By heaven & earth. And when she thus had sworn,
No oathes were left, or promises forborne.
Then she began at length with dreadfull feare,
And dolorous heavie heart, for to declare
How that her husband, with anger being fild,
In furious rage the Emperours sonne had kild.
And caus'd his heart with spices to be drest
In decent comely sort, as he thought best,
And to th' Emperour and Empresse it sent
That they have eaten it with great content.
When as all this the Gentlewoman heard,
Of this mischance, she was abasht and scar'd.
Being so vile and an ungodly deed.
Saying, its strange to heare such darnell seed
Should spring in so discreet a worthy man,
Whose life hath beene upright and just: who can
Believe he now with sin should be compact,
And overseene, to doe so bad a fact.
Yet nere the lesse, since it was come to passe
(Said she) I unto you my promise passe
Assuredly all things in secret keepe▪
Till death close up my eyes in endlesse sleepe.
And at her parting, bound with solemne oathes
To be her secret friend, no part thereof disclose.
But when she was a going towards home,
Weighing this new tydings, and what might come▪
Fearing the danger great that might ensue
To her and her husband, if she were true,
And keepe in secret what to her was showne,
That afterwards might be reveald and knowne.
Also considering the favour great
She might obtaine, and friendships oft intreat
At the Emperours hands in shewing the report
Shee with all speed returned to the Court,
And at her comming there she did not misse
To have accesse unto the Empresse.
And then she kneeled downe upon her knee,
Doing her duty to her Majesty:
In humble wise, with teares she then began
To say, most gracious Lady, if you can
I would beseech you give me leave to speake
A word or two with you in secret cake
Of a great weighty matter, I did heare
Of certainty reported to my eare.
The Empresse hearing this, with willing heart
Caused her Ladies all to goe apart
From forth her sight, that she in secret may
Know what the Genelewoman had to say.
When thus they were, all but themselves alone
The Gentlewoman with a heavy mo [...]e
Began to say: my soveraigne, the care
And ardent faithfull love that I doe beare
Unto your Ladiship, makes me repeate
What else I would not, though you should intreat.
Besides the many comforts I inherit
And daily doe expect above my merit
Moves me to come, and open unto you
A secret hidden thing, wherein I vow
No creature living should it ever know,
Except your selfe, to whom my life I ow?
For unto me it were a filthy shame,
And an impeachment unto my good name,
It to disclose, wert not unto your grace
Which touch you neere, your progeny and race.
Therefore Ile shew you, what I have been told,
Excuse me Madam, if I be too bold.
It is well knowne to all the world abroad,
That you, and your most gracious loving Lord
Loves Cato more than any other man,
As well appeares by your free giving han.
For you have given him many sundry gift,
And him advanc'd, as you him thought befit
To the chiefe office, government and doome
Of all the whole City of famous Rome.
And more, for the great zeale you to him have
And for his further honour, to him gave
Your sonne to governe, and him up to bring
In sage humanity, and good learning.
But he such service hath you done in lieu
That in his beastly rage your sonne hath slew
And tooke his heart out of his body sweet,
Trimmd it with spices, a thing unmeet
Thereof to you a present made with meate
And to your Lord, the which you both have eat.
The Empresse at this newes being amaz'd,
And musing in her selfe, to heare this blaz'd,
Said to the gentlewoman, what a fable
Or story doe you shew me, in a rable?
Then answered she, that which I've said to you
Most gracious Lady, is most certaine true.
For truely in great secret it was showne
Me, by the mouth of his owne wife: unknowne
To him. Which when the Empresse understood
Believing it for truth, she waxed wood,
And cryed out aloud, with voyce so shrill
That with the Eccho did the Palace fill.
Making such sorrowfull complaints and groanes,
That it to pity would have mov'd the stones,
Her to have heard or seene. When the report
Came to the Emperour, and in what sort
The Empresse such lamentation made,
He wondred much (his colour gan to fade)
What it should be, and came to know the cause
Of this her heavinesse, making no pause.
But she so pensive was within her heart,
That of long time, her minde could not impart.
Yet at the last with weeping bitter teares
She did recount, and unto him declares
All that the gentlewoman had her shew'd
Concerning her deere sonne, with eyes bedew'd.
The Emperour, hearing these tidings tart,
And crediting he'd eate his owne sonnes heart.
He was outragiously inflam'd and vext,
With anger above measure, and perplext.
And did command without delay to make
Or further respit, they should Cato take,
And seale up all his houses, goods and lands,
And instantly him hang in hempen bands
Higher than ever any was before
(To others for example) at his doore,
And that thereof to make no lingring stay,
But see him put to death without delay.
And executed with all speed and end
As at their perils they would it defend.
This being thus commanded with great charge
By th'Emperour himselfe, in words at large,
There certaine trusty men appointed were
For the same purpose, that with heedfull care
Went out forthwith and did him apprehend,
And seaz'd of all the goods God did him send.
Whereat Cato amazed stood a pause,
And did require of them, to know the cause
If they could tell it him. They answered soone
'Twas by the Emperours command and doome
For that he'd slaine his sonne, without desart
And caused him to eate his owne childs heart.
Then Cato said, my Lords and masters you
All which men say is not of certaine true.
Therefore I counsell you that you would put
Me into prison strong, and there me shut
Untill next day, and say, that for this night
It is too late, and of no equall right,
To put me unto death, and that I may
To morrow be cald forth without delay
Before the people all, there to be heard,
The matters layd against me, and declar'd.
So forward goe in justice, and proceed
Upon my life, as you doe finde the deed.
And forasmuch as all men did him love,
They did consent wherein he did them move.
And leaving him in prison for a space,
Returned to the Emperour his grace,
Declaring to his Majesty and state,
Him put to death that night it was too late.
Saying to him, that it much better were
The accomplishment of justice to forbeare,
Untill the morne, who notwithstanding his
Great anger, rage, fury, and heavinesse
That he had for the death of his deere sonne,
Did as the Lords advis'd him to be done.
Now whiles that they great company along
Were leading Cato unto prison strong,
He cald his trusty servant, as he went
To him, by whom the Emperours sonne was sent
Unto a noble Lord of that Countrey
A friend of his, meane while his wife to try
Concerning matters, which he would discusse
Commanding him, saying in secret thus:
Goe with all speed unto my faithfull friend,
Where thou didst leave th'Emperors son, God send
Him life, whom the Emperour thinketh dead,
And make thou haste, least I die in his stead.
And will him that to morrow before noone
He faile not to come to me, so soone,
And bring with him the Emperours sonne amaine
Unto his place, who thinks I have him slaine.
For which I now in prison am, you see
Expecting death shortly to summon me,
And without doubt in time he doth not come
I shall as thou perceivest, receive my doome,
Now it thou lov'st me, doe thy diligence
Not sparing horse, nor gripple for expence.
Upon which words, his servant made no stay
But taking leave, with speed rode fast away.
So that about mid-night, he came right well
Unto the place where the said Lord did dwell,
Who was to Cato a familiar friend,
A Lord, whose worthy fame all did commend.
Therefore he had him sent, the Emperours sonne
So secretly as possible might be done
In his tuition him to have in store
While he this thing would prove, as ye heard be­fore.
When Cato's servant to the place came late,
He hastily then knocked at the gate,
Whereas the Lord his habitation had,
And called out aloud with voyce most glad.
Having at last approacht that Palace good,
And they within having now understood
From whence he came, they opened speedily
The gates, & brought him where the Lord did lie,
And th'Emperours son, whom Cato did conduct,
Given him in charge to teach and to instruct.
Then did the Lord demand, who did him send,
And how his master did, his chiefest friend;
And what the occasion was (for to relate)
That he came in such speedy haste so late.
When he had done his masters due respect,
And no whit of his service did neglect;
Then he declar'd unto the Lord at last,
How that his Master was in prison fast:
And that command was given that hee should die
To morrow morne, through rumor of a lie,
And false report, which on him is begun
To th'Emperour, that he hath slaine his sonne,
And caus'd him eate the heart of his owne child:
Thus they his fancy led, and him beguild.
When Catoes servant, giving them to understand
How men had shew'd the Emperour, out of hand,
That Cato had his sonne inhumane slaine,
And therefore did imprisonment sustaine,
That on the morrow twas determined
For that offence to be a man but dead:
The Lord and th'Emperours son, at this did muse,
And wondred much to heare this heavie news
Of their good friend, incontinent they rose
With all the speed they could, you may suppose.
And cal'd together all their servants ny,
Araying all themselves most speedily.
Especially th'Emperours sonne most kinde,
Who was in sorrow great, and griefe of mind
For his said master, whom he loved well:
It was not needful as the stories tell
To hasten him for to dispatch, that he
Might with his kind and loving master be.
At the time and place appointed sure
His master should the stroke of death endure,
If fortune did not better him betide,
So they with posting speed, did thither ride.
Here will we reft to speake of th'Emperours son,
Who taken hath his journey new begun
towards his master deare, whom he did love
Intirely, next unto God above.
And come againe to Cato where he lie
Inhoved, looking each houre for to die.
If that his faithfull servant voyd of crime,
Came not with the Emperours son in time.
And for so much he was belov'd of all
The people throughout Rome both great and small
As a wise man, of understanding great,
Most just in all his waies, and carriage neate.
No briber to purloyne, free from that fact,
Extortioner, not cruell to exact.
There was a friend of his much love profest,
A mighty governour at his request
Kept backe and stayd as much as in him ly,
All the executioners of the City,
Who did consent for to absent themselves
Most willingly, for they alasse poore elves,
Were griev'd to doe, that which should ill befall,
Cato, who was beloved of them all.
Yet as Commandement was given indeed
From th'Emperour himselfe, they did proceed,
And Cato carried unto the place
Of execution, an easie pace:
With a great mighty troope and company,
That followed him expecting he should die.
And many people mourned that was there,
And more have mourned would, but that for feare,
That he had done this evill wicked deed
Wherewith he was accus'd, as some believ'd.
For there was many wondring at it said,
Amongst themselves, that they were halfe afraid
It was too true: but there were other-some
Admired he should thus be overcome,
With Satans tempting and alluring baite,
Who for the soules of men doe lie in wait.
Being so vertuous a man and wise,
Could not for truth believe, nor once surmise
That he had done this wicked sinfull crime,
As for to kill th'Emperours sonne in's prime,
And caus'd him for to eate his owne sonnes heart,
Not fearing God, nor who should take his part.
Nor yet regarding losse of goods and lands,
Th'Emperours frownes, the terror of his hands.
And thus was there great talke both farre & nie,
Amongst the Commons all of the City.
Some did believe it true, and some could not,
Yet nerethelesse he led was to the plot
Of execution, where men justice should fulfill
On him, according to th'Emperours will.
And when he came to the said place of death,
The gallowes ready him to hang beneath,
He made his prayers, and orations
With good and godly exhortations.
And all was finished there nothing lackt
But a hangman to performe the act.
They called fast, for one, but none would heare,
For all themselves absented that was there,
And hid themselves, for the friend of Cato's sake,
What calling ere there was, none would answere make.
Whiles thus this businesse was plotted wel
In the meane time a wonder great befell:
For he whom Cato from the gallowes sav'd
And pardon for his life did get uncrav'd
By the authority of his office,
Came out and did present himselfe, iwis,
Before the faces of them great and small,
And said on high, with open mouth to all
The people that was there, my Lords the fact
That this man here hath done is a vile act.
And not to be excus'd nor borne withall,
God in his justice for it vengeance call.
And therefore for the love, which I doe beare
Unto my Country, and the honest care,
I have to punish with a heavie hand
Such evill doers, as this wicked man,
I am my selfe here ready without blame
Hang-man to be since none will doe the same.
When as the multitude of people heard
Him thus to speak, their judgemens no whit spard
To censure him for offering so free
His needlesse service, as a courtesie
And looking well how he himselfe behav'd
They said, is this not he whom Cato sav'd
From hanging, which to him was justly due?
And divers that did know him, said, 'twas true,
It is the same villaine and very slave
VVhom Cato freed, and his life did save.
Then began the people speake, a great crue,
VVith one voyce openly, it is most true.
A very ideot, and unwise is he
That saves a thiefe, and letteth him goe free.
For the proverbe is no lésse true than old,
As by our forefathers hath oft beene told,
The thiefe that sav'd is, will most ready be
To hang him who him sav'd, as we all see.
Cato this wretched villaine seeing, said,
Thou wicked fellow, art not thou afraid
That God will powre his vengeance vpon thee
For being so ungratefull unto me,
As to forget the time is past, but thus
In worldly affaires it goes with us.
As they were reasoning thus of the cause,
Behold the people made a suddaine pause.
For they had seene a huge great company
Of mounted horsmen, that were comming ny,
And many other following with speed
After them, on many a gallant Steed,
Making a mighty noise, and calling fast
Vnto the people all, with signes in hast,
Saying: put not to death that worthy man,
My good and loving master out of han.
But all the while, they wist not what was said,
Yet hoped they his death should be delayd,
Or that some pardon comming was to free
Him from deaths stroke, of cruell destiny.
Of which in heart, they were exceeding glad,
And causd them stay with Cato till they had
Intelligence, as they came riding on
They well perceiv'd it was th'Emperous sonne,
Who came in haste, as fast as he could ride
VVith spurs clapt close unto his horses side
Calling and crying still, I pray forbeare
To put to death my loving master deare,
Let none lay hands on him, life to deprive
In any case, for I am here alive.
At which, all the whole multitude did muse
Rejoycing much, to heare this joyfull nuse.
The Prince approching spies his Tutor deare
Bound and prepar'd for execution neere,
Then leaps from off his horse, and with quick pace
Goes to his master, whom he doth imbrace
VVith such affection, and such hearty will
That mixt with kisses brinish teares distill.
And bands unbinding said, who could devise
Gainst you good master, & deare friend these lies?
And false reports, wherby your troubles wrough
And greatest danger to your selfe is brought.
Oh could the Emperour my father deere
Lightly believe, those slanderous tales he heare?
Gainst you even most entirely belov'd
Whose faithfulnesse to him hath been approv'd.
Th'amazd spectators, while they heare and see,
This gentle carriage, more amazed be.
That their great Emperors son in teares shold vent
The joy and great good will, in heart he ment
Unto his Tutor, this they judge to be
A sure presage of future clemency,
For which their praises unto Heaven aspire,
And at these accidents they much admire.
Nay more, this noble Prince the Emprours sonne,
Makes Cato ride while he on foot doth run.
And running holds the raines, as if that he
Some laquy, and not Caesars sonne should be.
Thus Cato late condemn'd, now rides in state,
Through Romes faire streets, unto the Palace gate.
I need not tell the joy and great delight
The people tooke at this so pleasing sight.
For young and old, the lame, and halt, and blind
Did trudge along, there's none would stay behind.
The newes before unto the Court doth passe,
To the Emperours presence, and the Emperesse,
Who now forgetting state, in haste doe run
To see grave Cato, and their deerest sonne.
But sudden joy hereat doth overpoise
Their naturall forces, and their sences [...]ies.
They speechlesse stand, and are amazed quite
And strucke with wonder at so strange a sight.
The Emperour reviving now might see
His sonnes observance and the peoples glee,
At Cato's fortune, how he was misled
By's passion rashly to command his head:
For which he now repenting, and asham'd,
Confest his rashnesse, and his foll blam'd,
And such salutes to him he doth addresse
As might his love and favour best expresse.
Then came the Emperours sonne, and mildly said,
Oh! father deere, how could you be so swaid?
Rashly, without advisement to command
(Against all law, or justice in our Land.)
My faithfull master to be put to death,
Ceasing his goods, that he could none bequeath,
Before you did rightwell perceive and prove
The matter clearely, as did you behove
By witnesses sufficient, that those crimes
Unto him laid were true, least after-times
Your furious hastinesse, did justly blame,
As well they might, with a perpetuall shame.
And cheefely for because, you know right well
The like now living, not on earth doth dwell.
Had you him put to death, in angry spleene,
Marke I you pray what pitty it had beene,
And what great losse of him we should have had,
Whose very presence makes our hearts full glad.
Both you and yours, with all Romes City strong
Would have him mist, and that justly ere long.
Nay what relentlesse heart, would not have cryd
That such a man, unjustly should have dyed?
Being innocent, as we see at large
And faultlesse of the act layd to his charge.
Truely I thinke, I nere in all my daies
Should have forgotten it, but that alwaies
I borne it should have done within my mind
Unto my griefe (as love no lesse doth bind)
And shortning of my life, for that I know
Through his great paines, that to me he did show,
I neither vertue have, not yet learning
But from him flow'd, as from a fountaine spring.
The Emperour him answer made, my sonne
Most deare, of us it was most leudly done,
And we thereby great slaunder should have had
And hinderance, which would have made us sad.
B'ingill reported of, for so great speed
In such a hastie unadvised deed.
And we with all the force and wealth we have
Could not the matter hide, our credit save:
Yet notwithstanding the great love that we
Had towards you, and ardent jelousie
So blinded had our eyes, thinking thy face,
We nere againe should see, for to imbrace
Thy handsome comely person in our sight
Whom we did looke to be our whole delight,
In time to come, that we had quite forgot
All right and reason, justice, and what not?
As Caesar and his sonne thus reasoning were,
Cato began to speake, that all might heare
Saying, I will you shew, how that all this
Hath come to passe, give eare now thus it is.
First unto you it is well knowne that I
A discreet father had, till destiny
By cruell death me of him did deprive
Who spareth none, what ere they be alive.
He well beloved was, of all degrees,
Great rule did beare amongst the noble Peeres
Within this City, and much sway did beare
Reproving vice, the wicked did him feare.
Divers good lectures to me he did preach,
Besides the knowledge of the tongues me teach.
And amongst all, and last of all, he gave
Three precepts unto me, for to observe.
And specially them keepe, his will obey
Feeling for to approach his dying day
Lying sore sicke in bed, he cald me neere
To him (as a most loving father deere)
Taking great care of me, his onely sonne,
How I should live, when that his glasse were run,
In this uncertaine world no time yet past
Me taught as long as life and breath would last)
And wisdome as I lookt in favour be
Contentedly to live, most prosperously
For to give eare unto those words that he
Dying should speake in secret unto me,
And circumspectly marke, and to select
Those sentences in writing me had left.
And unto them to have a due respect
And guid my doings as they did direct.
But above all, chiefely he wished me
To keepe in memory three precepts, he
VVould leave, and alwaies have them in my sight
For to direct me in my pathes aright.
Observing them, as workmen doe their square
Thereby to rule my life, as is my care.
But being young, I following my minde
VVith seeking honour (overcome) inclind
Wholy forgot my fathers precepts all
Untill I had great troubles me befall.
About urgent affaires, of me sought
VVhich to my heart a thousand terrors brought.
For then I cald to memory that I
Had broken two of them, most wretchedly.
I thereupon determined to prove
The third, which I have done, as me behove
To my great trouble, griefe, and jeopardy
To have both lost my goods and life thereby.
The first of the commands or precepts he
Lying upon his death bed, left to me,
VVas that I, having a living competent
(As he left me) should therewith be content,
And merry be (giving God thankes therefore)
VVith that I had, never desiring more.
And having enough, nere to put my selfe
In danger of others, for this worldly pelfe.
Especially in any office high
Under my soveraigne Lord and Princes eie,
For feare lest I ambition, of wealth
Should be ore covetous, and get by stealth,
Many bad enemies and evill foes
Which would disdaine my honour, and all those
Bring on me false reports, and speeches bad:
I might in danger be, lose all I had,
For oftentimes man taketh no regard
Unto the truth, which should have rich reward;
But over hasty are, in giving eare
To false reports, without all heed or care,
As here this day experience doth afford
You to behold it in our soveraigne Lord,
Which like had falne on me, so sore and rife,
That I should not have born't, but with losse of life.
If I my fathers precepts had obey'd,
And by his counsell had beene rul'd and swaid,
I had not to this danger come, and shame,
For to be led, with scandall to my name;
Unto the gallowes, or execution place,
A traytor like unto my great disgrace.
The second was, that I should nere prolong
The life of him, who hath committed wrong,
Nor such offenders free condemn'd to dye,
Whose hands are stain'd with blood or thievery:
For what evill he after did commit
I should be accessary unto it.
Also he nere would doe me any good,
But all the harme, wherein he's not withstood;
And that command I also broken have,
Whom my deare father, dying, to me gave,
Which I did feare some evill would me bring
in that I did forget so great a thing,
Which proved true, for the same man whom I
Did from the gallowes save, condemn'd to die,
This day (for fault of a hangman at neede)
Came of himselfe, to hang me with all speede:
And that was the reward from him that I
Should have had given me for my clemencie
And pitie towards him, that I did shew
In time of need, when friends there are but few.
Thus had be beene my death and overthrow,
Had fortune me not favour'd as you know.
The third and last he left me in his life,
It was, that I should prove, whether my wife
Would secret keepe small matters as befit,
Before greater to her I did commit;
And namely, such, as life, and lands my owne
Should stand in danger to be lost if knowne:
For where there many are, that faithfull be,
And discreet matrons, full of modestie,
That will not onely secret keepe all things,
But also good and wholsome counsell brings,
In matters of great weight: so likewise there
Are some, can nothing secret keepe they heare.
I chanc'd by fortune, lying in my bed,
troubled with many businesses in my head,
So that I could not take my wonted rest,
For the continuall cares, that did molest
My tired senses, touching my office,
At last I saw, that I had done amisse,
And how that now it came into my minde,
Those precepts three my father me assignde
For to observe, I two of them have broke,
As you well know, to my dishonour spoke;
For I have charg'd my selfe (the more's the pity)
With the great office of this famous city,
And also have set free at liberty
One from the gallowes that deserv'd to die,
I then determined now in my life
To doe the third, which was to prove my wife,
If she could keep my secrets firme and just
In what I did commit unto her trust.
And so upon a night, with loving charmes
When I perceiv'd her waking, in my armes
I tooke her, and began to sigh and mourne
And inwardly within my selfe to grone,
She thereupon salutes me with a kisse,
Demands to know my griefe and heavinesse;
Then out of policie, in secret wise
With as much outward shew, I could devise
Of hearty sorrow, and as one dismai'd
(As she me thought) I trembling to her said
How that I had in furious anger slaine
Th'emperors sonne, for which I doe sustaine
A thousand feares in my afflicted soule,
And none that heares it, will my griefe condole:
For I have slaine him in my raging lust
And divellish ire, whom I had in trust
To teach in learning, vices to expell
Who vexing me, this mischiefe thus befell,
Yea furthermore, I caus'd his heart be drest
With costly spices, as in most request,
And in the finest manner did it send
Unto his parents, as I did intend.
At a rich banquet, for a present neate,
And they thereat their owne sons heart had eate.
My wife this hearing, was exceeding sad
And much lamented, as if that she had
Bin the sole actor of this bloody deede
Such showring teares from womens eyes proceed:
But I her willed, as she would my life,
And as she was my faithfull and true wife,
That she in secret would it keepe, and ne're
To any creature living it declare.
Saying this wicked deed, I did bemone,
Grieving my soule, but remedy was none,
How she in secret kept it, you have seene
or rather how unconstant she hath beene
As the whole world can witnesse at this day,
That it almost my life had cost I say
As well it did appeare you all did see
Of which I make no wonder, for there be
Some women will no secret keepe untold
That which is shew'd them, but will it unfold;
For naturally they're given to prate and talke
So that at randome oft their tongues doe walke,
Yet there be many sober women eke,
That will not onely secrets needfull keepe,
But also good and wholsome counsell give
Unto their husbands, all the daies they live
As in good stories read may wee
And partly by experience see.
Then Cato turn'd himselfe in humble wise
Unto the Emperour with fixed eyes;
Saying, oh noble and renowned prince
My deare & soveraigne Lord, you see from hence,
And all your Nobles how it chanc'd to me
(Which thing of me cannot forgotten be)
And that by reason I did not obey
My fathers admonitions to this day.
Nor gave no credit to those words that he
Upon his death▪bed dying left to me
For my direction, therefore it had bin
My dutie to perform'd his will therein.
For I did ill his precepts to forgit
Who was indued with wisdome and such wit.
When he these words had said in the presence
Of the Empeorour, with due obedience
Before the Lords and commons of the Citie
Which made them note his inward griefe with pi­ty,
Then also he unto the Emprour said,
My soveraigne Lord, by whom I have bin swaid
To beare great office, I doe here resigne
And yeeld into your hands that which is mine
Discharging here my selfe, thereof as free
Againe, as er'e you gave it unto mee.
For from henceforth, if God me so doth blisse,
I never will on mee take any office.
For which the Emperour, and many more
Were truely sorry, and did much deplore
This thing, for none in the whole city were
So worthy for to rule and office beare.
Yet neverthelesse, unto his dying day,
He a great counsellor was tooke away,
The Emperour great kindnesse him did show
And worthy gifts upon him did bestow.
And love him better after than before,
As his expressions shew'd a great deale more;
And so remain'd in favour all his daies,
Unto Romes joy, and his eternall praise.
FINIS.

A Postscript.

THis foresaid example giveth a good lesson to all honest discreete and wise women, that they may keepe secret all things touching or apper­taining to the estate of their husbands, that they shew it to no creature living; for oftentimes it chanceth, that in open­ing of small matters, commeth much harme, and most times, when they thinke least thereon. A close mouth (as the say­ing is) makes a wise head, and a foolish woman is easily knowne by her much ba­bling. In being close and secret, and espe­cially in such things as men would have kept close and in secret, can come nothing but good and quietnesse; for a word is like an arrow in a bow; when the arrow [Page] is shot and gone from the bow, it maketh a noyse, and cannot returne againe be­fore it taketh his lighting place: So like­wise, a word, when it is spoken, and gone out of the mouth, it cannot come againe before it be disperst unto the auditors and standers by, aud of them is heard and un­derstood, either in the good or evill part; therefore it is good to have in memory, and marke well the saying of the wiseman Salomon; first thinke a thing twise or thrice before thou speake it, and take good heed and regard to what end and effect it may turne and come unto before thou o­penest thy mouth for where much babling is, there must needes be offence▪ she that refraineth and bridleth her tongue, is wise; an innocent tongue is a noble trea­sure, and as one wisely saith; silence in a woman is a speciall vertue. It is a won­der to see a dumbe Grashopper, because [Page] the whole kinde of them is garrulous: yet more wonderfull it is to see constan­cie and silence in women, because their Sex is mutable and loquacious, the toung is an unruly member, especially in a wo­mans mouth; but where grace is, it is easily bridled: the tongue is called the gate of life and death, and that in this respect, for by it the lives of our selves and others are daily hazarded, as you may see in the story immediatly going before. Where­fore I would once againe advise all wise and discreet women, or that would so bee thought and accounted, when their tongues at any time shall be most active, and nimble for discourse, to thinke upon Catos▪ wife, that they reveale not in any wise, any secret, whereby any mischiefe may come thereof: for by a word spea­king, and that to her neare friend, and to one of her owne Sex, which one would [Page] have thought would have kept her coun­sell, into what great perill had shee like to have brought her husband and her selfe. Labour then to amend your own imper­fections in this one thing, otherwise the danger and shame in the end will light upon your selves, as the verse herefol­lowing doth shew:

Women whose tongues before their wit doth run,
Oft speaks too soone, & rues when they have done.

But this is not written onely to be marked of women, but also of all persons, of what estate and degree soever they bee, that have any matter of secret or counsell committed unto them, that they may hereby learne and beware how they shew or declare any thing that they shall heare, see done, or said in any counsell, for many times, by uttering of a small thing, great inconvenience doth come, and much hin­derance to things pretended.

A Cooling▪card for a scolding Wife.

WHen wife speaks most, do thou least speech afford,
For silence cuts a shrew worse than a sword,
A froward wife, for very spight will cry,
When thy neglect doth scorne her tyranny.
With love and not with fury let her know,
Her errors, for by that amendments grow:
A gentle hand, a Colt doth sooner tame,
Than chains or fetters which do make him lame▪

QƲI MIHI Turned into English meter, for the benefit of young Schollers.

WHen dolts have lucke, on honors step to stay:
Let Schollers burn their books, and go to play.
You Children young, that goe to schoole
to you I send my verse,
In English, so you shall not need,
to construe or to pearce.
The child procures his parents ruth,
that is not chastiz'd in his youth.

The Epistle dedicatory.

REader, to whom shall I direct my pen
But unto striplings young, the sonnes of men?
To you I send my verses in this booke,
For you to meditate thereon and looke
Where you therein matter of worth shall finde
To please your will, and satisfie your mind.
To you alone, and none but you I write,
Others may read, but yours it is of right.
Acc,pt you then my labours and endeavour,
And I shall be oblig'd to you for ever.
For these my lines are of too meane a strain
To elevate my thoughts or entertaine
Higher preferment then with it agrees.
My booke's too barren for tall Cedar trees▪
Children may busie here themselves at fits,
Its not for deeper, and more solid wits.
Step then into this Arbour and there walke
Where you may meditate, discourse and talke
At idle times when leasure you shall find,
To ease the lymbes, and recreate the mind.
Learning no burthen is to any one,
The sweetest study is when we alone
Keepe close unto our books with silent voice
Reading such things as doe our hearts rejoyce.
Then study you that live in grammar schooles
And knowledge get, and be no longer fooles.
It is not wealth will make you wise or rich,
A dunce is poore, though he bave nere so mich.
This is the counsell J to you will give
And ever shall so long as I doe live.
Were I as able as I could desire
With moveing arguments for to inspire
The inward zeale to learning youth should beare
I would therein spend all my pains and care,
To spur you forward, but alas my skill
Is nothing comparable to my will.
Yet in a word thus much observe from me,
He that this wants, cannot true noble be.
Learning doth helpe to purchase all mens fame,
So truely learnd doe more renowne their Name.
Some men there be, learning doe not desire
But like the swine delights more in the mire.
The blockish idiots learning cannot prise
But hate even those, that are by nature wise,
And sottish fooles at learning will repine
So long as puddle shall delight the swine.
Oh then sweet children, marke with heedfull care
Whats for your good, and doe no labour spare
To get this precious jem of so great worth
That makes you noble, though but meane by birth.
Ile say no more, bnt onely this, farewell,
He is most wise, in learning doth excell.
Your faithfull and wel-wishing friend, WALTER GOSNOLD.

Qui Mihi in English Verse.

The Schoolemaster precepts doth oft rehearse
that thou mayst well learne,
Which to his schollers Lilly writ in verse,
thy manners they concerne.
THou child that to be taught desires
and scholler art to me:
Come hither, and marke well in mind.
these things I say to thee.
Betimes in morning leave thy bed
and pleasant sleepe off shake:
Goe to the Church, and unto God
thy humble prayer make.
But first let hands and face be washt,
combe thou thy head also:
And see thy cloathes be neate and cleane
before to Church thou goe.
Avoyding sloth when schoole shall call
be present out of hand;
Let no excuse of long delay
procure the lingring stand.
Then me thy master, when thou seest
with speech salute anon,
And all thy schoolefellowes likewise
in their degree each one.
And where I doe thy seat appoint
there see thou take thy place.
And from thy seate till I thee bid
depart thou in no case:
And as each childe doth study most
and learning best doth get;
He shall in place above the rest
more worthily be set.
Pen-knife, Quills, Paper, Inke and Bookes,
as tooles most fit for thee:
Let them for use, and studies thine
provided alwaies bee.
If any thing I shall indite,
take heed thou write it right:
That in thy writing, blot or fault
may not be found in sight.
No latines unto papers loose,
nor verses doe commit;
Which faire to write within your bookes
for schollers is more fit.
Oft-times repeat things thou had read,
and weigh them well in minde:
If thou doubt, one or other aske,
till that the truth thou finde.
He that doth doubt, and often aske,
doth learning soone conceive;
Who doth not doubt, no good he gets,
nor knowledge e'r will have.
Good childe, I pray you study hard,
no paines to learne refuse;
Lest that thy guilty conscience,
thy slothfulnesse accuse.
And see that you attentive be,
for what will it availe;
To teach thee ought, if that the same
to print in minde you faile.
Nothing so hard can be to learne,
but labour will it win:
Then take you paines, apply thy booke
and studie well therein.
For as from earth there doe not grow
good corne, flowers, nor seeds;
Nor ought that's good, without tilling,
but fruitlesse noysome weeds:
So, if a childe in studies good,
doe not practise his wit;
His time shall utterly mis-pend,
and lose the hope of it.
A law and order in thy speech,
ought for to be attended;
[...]est by thy over-babling wee
be too too much offended.
Be low in voyce, so long as thou,
thy studies dost apply;
But all the while thou sayst to me,
pronounce thy words on high.
And whatsoever thou dost learne,
when thou sayst it to me;
Perfect by heart, without thy booke
pronounced let them be.
No word let any prompter tell,
to him that is to say:
Which thing doth cause unto a boy
no meane or small decay.
If any thing I doe command,
see that thou doe endeavour,
Both praise and credit for to have
for thy quick witty answer.
No commendation shalt thou have
for speech too fast or slow,
To use the vertuous golden meane,
a comely grace doth show.
When thou speakst, use thy Latine tongue,
this still remember well:
Shun rude and barbarous words, and then
in eloquence excell.
Besides, see thou thy fellowes teach,
when they thee doe require:
And all such as unperfect be,
bring on to my desire.
Who so doth teach th'unlearned sort,
though most unlearned he,
Yet in short time, then all the rest
more leaned may hee be:
But foolish Grammer smatterers
doe follow in no case,
Which are to the famous latine tongue
exceeding great disgrace.
Whereof in speach there is not one
so rude, or foolish now,
But him the barbarous multitude,
For author will allow.
If thou desire thy Grammer lawes,
most rightly for to know;
And who in speech to understand
best eloquence to show,
See thou the famous writings learne
of old and ancient men;
The which best authours be, and thou
shalt know them rightly then.
Terence, Tully, and Virgil too,
now one, now other reade:
And mind and marke well what they teach,
and thereto give good heed,
Which Authors he that hath not learn'd
in utter darknesse lives;
And nothing fees but foolish dreames
that simple knowledge gives.
Some boyes there be whom it delights,
all vertue set apart;
Lewd toyes and vices very vaine
to practise as an Art.
There be some boyes that pleasure take
with hands and feet t'assay,
How that they may their fellowes hurt,
or trouble any way.
And some there are that boast themselves
to be most nobly borne:
And others birth do dis-allow,
with speeches full of scorne.
I would thou of such patrons bad,
should take most wary heed,
Lest in the end thou doe receive
rewards worthy thy deed.
Doe nothing give, nor nothing sell,
nor nothing buy nor change,
To gaine by others losse; accompt
these things to thee most strange.
And most of all, no mony use,
inticements unto sinne,
That to others leave, vertue seeke,
and nothing else to winne.
Let noyses, brablings, scoffings, lies,
and every foolish jarre;
Stealing, fighting, gaping, laughing
be alwaies from you farre.
Nothing unhonest speake at all,
to cause or stirre up strife:
For in the tongue wee see is both
the gate of death and life.
Accompt it most great wickednesse,
ill speeches for to give;
Or by Gods mighty name to sweare
by whom we onely live.
And last of all, keepe well thy things,
and bookes, and be not rude;
And beare them with thee still, and thus
my Precepts I conclude.
Exhorting thee take heed, if thou
desire to live at ease:
That thou doe all offences shun,
and no man doe displease.
FINIS.

A Postscript to the READER.

FRiendly READER, I had here thought to have unloaded my me­mory, presented thee at this time, with some Anagrams, Epigrams, Em­blemes, Epitaphs and carolls; as also with many Characters and Essaies of my owne; but not knowing how well this worke would passe, and considering with my selfe, I have beene but a metamor­phoser of other mens labours, and there­fore can no waies challenge any higher title at the best, then the name of a tran­slator, although indeed, my paines there­in have beene no whit lesse, then if it had been wholly mine: as old shoos aske more paines many times to mend, then new ones [Page] doe to make; I have thought fit to for­beare my intended purpose, untill some fit­ter opportunity doth invite mee thereto; in the meane while, if thou findest any fault with what is already done, and say it is but cobled over, the reason is ready at hand▪ for a translator, though in a more fine phrase, is but a cobler▪ therefore what­soever a cobler doth, be it never so well, is but cobled. But howsoever, when I am my craftsmaster, I will promise thee to mend all imperfections, so it be not, ultra crepidam, till then thou canst not ex­pect any rare workmanship from mee. Farewell.

FINIS.

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