¶The signification of a publyke weale, and why it is called in latyn Respublica.

A Publike weale is in son­dry wise defined by phi­losophers, but knowing by experience, that the often repetition of any thyng of graue or sadde importaunce, wyll be te­dyous to the reders of this warke, who perchaunce for the more parte haue not ben trayned in lerning con­teynynge semblable matter: I haue com­piled one definition out of many, in as com­pendious fourme, as my poore wytte can deuyse: trustynge that in those fewe wor­des the true signification of a publike wele shall euidently appere, to them whom rea­son can satisfie.

¶A publike weale is a body lyuyng, com­pact publike weale. or made of sōdry astates and degrees of men, whiche is dysposed by the order of equytye, and gouerned by the rule and moderation of reason. In the latin tongue it is called Respublica, of the whiche the Respub­lica. worde Res, hath dyuers significations, and dothe not onely betoken that, that is cal­led a thynge, whiche is distinct from a per­son, [Page] but also signyfieth astate, condityon, substaunce, and profyt.

¶In our olde vulgare, profytte is called profytte. weale. And it is called a welthy countray, wherin is al thynge that is profitable: And he is a welthy man, that is ryche in money and substaunce. Publyke (as Uarro sayth) publyke. is diriuied of people: which in latyn is cal­led Populus. wherfore it semeth, that men haue ben longe abused, in calling Rempub­licam, a commune weale. And they which do suppose it so to be called, for that, that euery thynge shoulde be to all men in com­mune, without discrepaunce of any astate or condition, be therto moued more by sen­sualite, than by any good reason or inclina­tion to humanitie. And that shall so one ap­pere vnto them, that wyll be satysfied ey­ther with auctoritie, or with naturall order and example.

¶Fyrste the propre and trewe significatiō of the wordes, Publike and Comune, whi­che be borowed of the latin tongue, for the insufficiencie of our owne langage, shal sufficiently declare the blyndenes of them, which haue hitherto holden and meyntey­ned the sayde opinions. As I haue sayde, publyke toke his begynnynge of people, whiche in latin is Populus: in which worde populus. is conteyned, all the inhabytantes of a re­alme [Page 2] or citie, of what astate or condition so euer they be.

¶Plebs in englisshe, is called the commu­naltie, plebs. whiche signifieth onely the multy­tude, wherin be conteyned the base & vul­gare inhabitantes, not auaunced to any ho­nour or dignitie: whiche is also vsed in our dayly comunication. for in the citie of Lon­don, and other cities, they that be none al­dermen, or sheriffes, be called communers. And in the countrey, at a sessions, or other assembly, if no gentyll men be there at, the sayinge is, that there was none but the cō ­munaltye, whiche proueth, in myne opini­on, that Plebs in latine, is in englishe com­munaltie: and Plebeij be communers. plebeii.

¶And consequentely there maye appere, lyke diuersitie to be in englishe, betwene a publyke weale, and a commune weale, as publyke & commune. shuld be in latyn, betwene Res publica, and Res plebeia. And after that signification, if there shulde be a commune weale, eyther the communers onely must be welthy, and the gentyl and noble men, nedy and myse­rable: orelles excludyng gentylitie, al men muste be of one degre and sort, and a newe name prouided. For as moche as Plebs, in latine, and comminers in englyshe, be wor­des onely made for the discrepance of de­grees, wherof procedeth Ordre: whiche Ordre. [Page] in thynges, as well naturall as supernatu­rall, hath euer hadde suche a preeminence, that therby the incomprehensible maiestye of god, as it were by a bryght leme of a tor­che or candell, is declared to the blynd in­habitantes of this worlde.

¶ More ouer, take awaye Order from all thynges, what shulde than remayne? Cer­tes nothynge finally, excepte somme man wolde imagine eftsones, Chaos, whiche of some is expounded, a confuse mixture. Chaos.

¶ Also where there is any lacke of order, nedes muste be perpetuall conflycte. And in thynges, subiecte to nature, no thyng of hym selfe onely maye be nourysshed: but whan he hath distroyed that, wherwith he doth participate, by the order of his crea­tion, he hym selfe of necessitie muste than perysshe, wherof ensueth vniuersall dysso­lution.

¶ But nowe to proue by example of those thynges, that be within the coumpasse of mannes knowlege, of what estimation Or­dre is, not onely among men, but also with god, all be it his wysedome, bountye, and magnificence, can be with no tonge or pen sufficiently expressed. Hath not he sette de­grees & astates in all his glorious warkes?

¶ Fyrste in his heuenly ministers, whom, as the Churche affyrmethe, he hath con­stituted [Page 3] to be in dyuers degrees, called hi­erarches. Also Christe sayth, by his euan­gelist, that in the house of his father (whi­che is god) be many mansions.

¶ But to treate of that, whiche by natu­rall Elemenꝭ. vnderstandynge, maye be comprehen­ded, Beholde the foure elementes, wher­of the body of man is compacte, how they be set in theyr places, called spheres, high­er or lower, accordynge to the souerayn­tie of theyr natures: that is to saye, the fi­er, as the moste pure elemente, hauinge in it nothyng, that is corruptible, in his place, is hygheste, and aboue other elementes.

The ayer, whiche next to the fyre, is most pure in substance, is in the seconde sphere or place: The water, whiche is somewhat consolidate, and approcheth to corruptiō, is nexte vnto the erthe: The erthe, which is of substance gros and ponderous, is set, of all elementes, moste lowest.

¶ Beholde also the order, that god hath put generally in all his creatures, begyn­nynge at the mooste inferiour or base, and assendynge vpwarde: he made not onely herbes to garnishe the erthe, but also trees of a more eminent stature, than herbes: and yet in the one and the other, be degrees of qualities, some pleasante to beholde, some delycate or good in taste, other holsome [Page] and medycinable, some commodyous and necessarie. Semblably in byrdes, beastis, and fysshes, some be good for the sustināce of man: some beare thynges profytable to sondry vses: other be apte to occupation and laboure: in dyuerse is strengthe and fiersenes onely: in many is both strengthe and commoditie: some other serue for ple­sure: none of them hath all these qualities: fewe haue the more parte or many, special­ly beautie, strengthe, and profytte. But where any is founde, that hath many of the sayde propreties, he is more sette by, than al the other, and by that estimation, the or­dre of his place and degree euidentely ap­pereth. So that euery kynde of trees, her­bes, birdes, beastis, and fisshes, beside their diuersitie of fourmes, haue (as who sayth) a peculyer dysposityon, appropered vnto them, by god theyr creatour: so that in e­uery thynge is ordre, and withoute ordre maye be nothyng stable or permanent. And it maye not be called Ordre, excepte it do conteyne in it, degrees, high and base, ac­cordyng to the meryte or estimation of the thynge that is ordered.

¶ Nowe to returne to the astate of manne kynde, for whose vse, all the sayde creatu­res were ordeyned of god, and also excel­leth them all, by prerogatiue of knowlege [Page 4] & wysedome. It semeth, that in hym shulde be no lesse prouidence of god declared, thā in the inferiour creatures: but rather with a more perfect ordre and dysposition. And therfore it appereth, that god gyueth not to euery man like gyftes of grace, or of na­ture, but to some more, to some lesse, as it lyketh his diuine maiestie. Ne they be not in cōmune (as fantastical foles wolde haue all thynges) nor one man hath not all ver­tues, and good qualities. vuderstā ­dynge.

¶ Not with standynge, for as moch as vn­derstandynge, is the moste excellent gyfte, that man can receyue in his creation, wherby he doth approche moste nyghe vnto the similitude of god, whiche vnderstandynge is the pryncipall parte of the soule: It is therfore congruent, and accordynge, that as one excelleth an other, in that influence, as therby beinge nexte to the similitude of his maker: so shulde the astate of his per­son be auaunced in degree, or place, where vnderstandynge maye profyt, which is al­so dystrybuted into sondry vses, faculties, and offices, necessary for the lyuynge and gouernaunce of mankynd. And lyke as the angels, whiche be most feruent in contem­plation, be hyghest exalted in glorye (after the opinion of holy doctours) and also the fire, which is the most pure of elementes, [Page] and also dothe clarifie the other inferioure elemētes, is deputed to the highest sphere or place. So in this worlde, they, whiche excelle other in this influence of vnderstan dynge, and do imploye it to the deteynyng of other within the boundes of reason, and shewe them, howe to prouide for theyr ne­cessarie lyuynge: suche ought to be sette in a more highe place, than the residue, where they maye se, and also be sene, that by the beames of theyr excellente wytte, shewed throughe the glasse of auctoritie, other of inferiour vnderstanding, maye be directed to the way of vertu and cōmodious liuing.

¶ And vnto men of suche vertue, by verye equitie apperteineth Honour, as theyr iust Honour. rewarde and duetie: which by other mens labours, muste also be meynteyned, accor­dynge to theyr merytes. For as moche as the sayde persons, excellinge in knowlege, wherby other be gouerned: be mynysters for the only profite and cōmoditie of them, whiche haue not equall vnderstandynge: where they, whiche do exercise artificiall science, or corporall labour, do not trauaile for theyr superiours only, but also for their owne necessitie. So the houseband man fe­dethe hym selfe and the clothe maker: the clothe maker apparayleth him self and the housebande: they bothe socour other ar­tificers: [Page 5] other artificers them: they and o­ther artificers, them that be gouernours.

¶ But they that be gouernours (as I be­fore sayde) nothyng do acquire by the sayd influence of knowlege for theyr owne ne­cessities, but do imploye all the powers of theyr wyttes, and theyr dylygence, to the only preseruation of other their inferiours. Amonge whiche inferiours also behoueth to be a disposition and order, accordyng to reason: that is to say, that the slouthfull or idell person, do not participate with hym, that is industrious, and taketh peyne, wher by the fruites of his labours, shulde be di­minisshed, wherin shulde be none equalite, but therof shulde procede dyscourage, and finally dysolution, for lacke of prouysion. Wherfore it can none other wise stand with reason, but that the astate of the person in preeminence of lyuynge, shuld be estemed, with his vnderstandynge, labour, and po­licie: where vnto muste be added an aug­mentation of honour and substaunce, whi­che nat only impresseth a reuerence, wher­of procedeth due obedience amonge subie­ctes, but also inflameth men, naturally in­clined to idelnes, or sensual appetite, to co­ueyte lyke fortune, and for that cause, to dis pose them to study or occupation.

¶ Howe to conclude my fyrste assertion or [Page] argument. where al thing is comune, there lacketh ordre: and where ordre lackethe, there all thynge is odyouse, and vncomly. And that haue we in dayly experience. for the pannes and pottes, garnysshe well the ketchyn, and yet shuld they be to the chā ­bre none ornamente. Also the beddes, te­stars and pyllowes, beseme not the hall, no more than the carpettes and kusshines be­come the stable. Semblably the potter and tynker, onely perfecte in theyr crafte, shal littell do, in the ministration of Iustice. A ploughman or carter, shall make but a foble answere to an ambassadour. Also a wayuer or fuller, shuld be an vnmete capitaine of an army, or in any other office of a gouernour. wherfore to conclude, it is only a publyke weale, where, lyke as god hath dysposed the sayde influence of vnderstandynge, is also appoynted degrees and places, accor­dynge to the excellencie therof, and ther­to also wolde be substance conuenient, and necessarie, for the ornamente of the same: which also impresseth a reuerence and due obedience to the vulgare people or cōmu­naltie, and without that, it can be no more sayde, that there is a publike weale, than it may be affyrmed, that a house without his propre and necessary ornamentes, is well and sufficiently furnyshed.

That one soueraygne gouernour ought to be in a publyke weale. And what damage hath happened, wher a multytude hath hadde equall auctorite without any soue­raygne. Cap. ii.

LYke as to a castel or fortres, suffiseth one owner or soue­raign, and where any mo be of like power and authorite, seldome cometh the warke to perfection, or beynge all redy made, where the one diligently ouer­seth, & the other neglecteth, in that conten tion all is subuerted and cōmeth to ruyne, In sēblable wise doth a publike weale, that hath no chiefe gouernours than one. Ex­ample we may take of the Grekes, amonge whom in diuers cities, weare diuers four­mes of publyke weales, gouerned by mul­titudes: wherin one was moste tollerable, where the gouernance and rule was alway permitted to them, which excelled in ver­tue, and was in the Greke tonge called A­ristocratia, in latin Optimorum Potentia, in englishe, the rule of mē of best disposition. which the Chebanes of lōg time obserued.

¶ An other publyque weale was amonge the Atheniensis, where equalytye was of [Page] astate among the people, and only by their hole consente, theyr Citie and dominions were gouerned: whiche moughte well be called a Monster with many heedes, nor neuer it was certayne or stable, and often tymes they banisshed, or slewe the best cy­tezins, whiche by theyr vertue and wyse dome, had moste profited to the publyke weale. This maner of gouernaunce was called in greke Dimocratia, in latin, Popu­laris Dimo­cratia. potentia: in englysshe, the rule of the comminaltie. Of these two gouernances, none may be sufficient. For in the first, whi­che consisteth of good men, vertue is not so constant in a multitude, but that some be­ynge ones in authoritie, be incensed with glorie, some with ambition, other with co­uetise and desyre of treasure or possessions, wherby they falle in to contention, and fy­nally, where any achiueth the superioritie, the hole gouernāce is reduced vnto a fewe in nombre, whiche fearynge the multitude, and theyr mutabilitie, to the intent to kepe them in drede to rebell, ruleth by terrour, and crueltie, thynkynge therby, to kepe them selfe in suertie. Not withstandynge, rancour coarcted, and longe deteyned in a narowe roume, at the last brasteth out, with intollerable vyolence, and bryngeth all to confusion. For the power, that is practized, [Page 7] to the hurte of many, can not continue.

¶The popular astate, if it any thyng do vary from equalitie of substāce, or estimation, or that the multitude of people, haue ouer moch libertie, of necessitie one of these in­conueniēces must happen, either tyranny, where he that is to moch in fauor, wold be eleuate, & suffre none equalitie, or elles in to the rage of a communaltie, whiche of al ru­les is mooste to be feared. For lyke as the communes, if they fele some seueritie, doo humbly serue and obeye, so where they im­bracing a lycence, refuse to be brydeled, do flyng and plunge: and if they ones throwe downe theyr gouernour, they order euery thyng without iustice, only with vengeāce and crueltie, and with incomparable diffy­cultie, and vnneth by any wysedome, be pa­cified and brought again into order. Wher­fore vndoutedly, the best and the most sure gouernāce, is by one King or Prince, whi­che ruleth onely for the weale of his peo­ple: and that maner of guernaunce is beste approued, and hath longest continued, and is moste auncient. For who can denye, but that all thynge in heuen and erth is gouer­ned by one god, by one perpetual ordre, by one prouidēce? One sonne ruleth ouer the day, and one Moone ouer the nyght. And to descende downe to the erthe.

[Page] ¶In a lyttell beast, whiche of all other is most to be maruayled at, I meane the Bee, Bee. is lefte to man by nature, as it semeth, a perpetuall figure, of a iuste guernaunce or rule: who haue among them, one principal Bee, for theyr gouernour, whiche excel­leth all other in greatenes, yet hath he no pricke or stinge, but in hym is more know­lege, thanne in the residue. For if the daye folowynge shall be fayre and dry, and that the bees may issue out of theyr stalles, with out peryl of raine, or vehemēt wynd, in the mornynge erely he callethe them, makyng a noyse, as it were the sowne of a hurne, or a trumpet, and with that, al the residue pre pare them to labour, and fleeth abrode, ga­therynge nothynge, but that shall be swete and profitable, all thoughe they sytte of­ten tymes on herbes, and other thynges, that be venemous and stynkynge. The ca­pirayne hym selfe, laboureth not for his su­stynaunce, but all the other for hym: he onely seeth, that if any drane, or other vn­profitable bee, entreth in to the hyue, and consumeth the honye, gathered by other, that he be immediately expelled from that company. And whanne there is a nother nombre of bees encreased, they semblably haue also a capitayne, whiche be not suffe­red to continue with the other. Wherfore [Page 8] this newe company, gathered in a swarme, hauynge theyr capitayne among them, and enuir onynge hym, to preserue hym frome harme, issue forthe, sekinge a newe habita­tion: which they finde in some tree, except with some pleasaunt noyse, they be alured and conueyed vnto an other hyue.

¶I suppose, who seriously beholdeth this example, and hath any commendable wyt, shall therof gather moche mattyer, to the fourmyng of a publike weale. But bicause I may not be long therin, considerynge my purpose, I wolde the reder herof, if he be lerned, shuld repayre to the Georgikes of Uirgile, or to Plini, or Collumella, where he shal fynde the example more ample, and better declared.

¶And if any desyreth to haue the gouer­naunce of one person, proued by histories, let him firste resorte to the holy scripture, where he shall fynde, that almyghtye god cōmanded Moises onely, to brynge his e­lected Moises. people out of captiuitie, giuinge on­ly to hym that auctoritie, without appoyn­tinge to hym any other assystence of equall power or dignitie: except in the message to kynge Pharao, wherin Aaron, rather as a Raron. minister thanne a companyon, wente with Moises. But only Moises conducted the people throughe the redde see, he onely [Page] gouerned them forty yeres in deserte. And bycause Dathan and Abiron disdayned his Dathan & Abiron. rule, and coueted to be equal with him, the erthe opened, and fyre issued out, and swa­lowed them in, with all their holle familye, and confederates, to the nōbre of. 14700. And all thoughe Hietro, Moses father in lawe, counsailed hym to depart his impor­table The counsayle of Hietro. labours, in continual iugemētes, vnto the wise men, that were in his company: he nat withstandyng, styll retayned the soue­rayntie, by goddis commandement, vntyll a litle before he died, he resigned it to Iosue, assigned by god to be ruler after hym.

¶ Semblably after the deth of Iosue, by Iosue suc­cessour to Moises. the space of. 246. yeres, succeded frome tyme to tyme, one ruler amōge the Iewes, which was chosen for his excellēcy in ver­tue, and specilly iustyce. Wherfore he was called the iuge, vntil the Israelites desired of almyghty god, to let them haue a kyng, as other people hadde: who appointed to them Saul, to be theyr kyng, who exceded Saul. all other in stature.

¶ And so successiuely one kyng gouerned all the people of Israel, vnto the tyme of Roboaz, sonne of the noble kyng Salomō: who beinge vnlyke to his father in wyse­dome, Roboaz practised tyrannye amonge his peo­ple. Wherfore. ix. partes of theym, whiche [Page 9] they called Tribus, forsoke hym, & elected Hieroboam, late seruaunt to Salomon, to be theyr kynge, onely the .x. parte remay­nynge with Roboaz. And so in that realme were contynually two kynges, vntyll the kynge of Mede had depopulate the coun­trey, and brought the people in captiuytie to the citie of Babylon: So that durynge the tyme, that two kynges rayned ouer the iewes, was euer continuall batayle among them selfes: where if one kynge had alway rayned lyke to Dauid or Salomon, of lyke lyhode the countrey shuld not so sone haue ben brought in captiuitie.

¶ Also in the tyme of the Machabeis, as longe as they had but one busshop, which was theyr ruler, and was in the stede of a prynce, they valiantly resysted the gentils: and as well the Romaynes, than great lor­des of the worlde, as Persians, and diuers other realmes, desyred to haue with them amitie and aliaunce: and al the inhabitantes of that countrey, lyued in great weale and quietnes. But after that by symonye and ambition, there happened to be two bys­shoppes, whiche deuyded theyr authory­ties, and also the Romaynes had deuyded the realme of Iudea to foure princes, cal­led Tetrarchas, and also constytuted a Ro­mayne capitayne or presidente ouer them: [Page] amonge the heddes there neuer cessed to be sedition, and perpetual dyscorde: wher­by at the laste the people was dystroyed, and the countrey brought to desolation and horrible barrennes.

¶ The Grekes, which were assembled to reuenge the reproche of Menelaus, that he toke of the Troians by the rauisshynge of Helene his wyfe, dydde not they by one assente electe Agamemnon to be theyr em­perour or capitayne: obeying him as their souerayne, durynge the siege of Troy? all though that they had diuers excellent princis, not only equal to hym, but also excel­lyng Prynces of Grece. hym, as in prowes Achilles, and Ai­ax Thelemonion: in wysedome Nestor, and Ulisses, and his owne brother, Mene­laus: to whom they moughte haue gyuen equal auctoritie with Agamēnon: but those wise princes considered, that without a ge­nerall capitayne, so many persons as were there, of dyuers realmes gathered toge­ther, shulde be by no meanes well gouer­ned wherfore Homere calleth Agamēnon Agsmem­non. the shepeherd of peple. They rather were cōtented to be vnder one mans obedience, than seuerally to vse theyr auctorites, or to ioyne in one power and dignite, whereby at the last shulde haue sourded discention a­monge the people, they beinge seperately [Page 10] enclined towarde theyr naturall souerayne lorde: as it appered in the particuler con­tention, that was betwene Achilles and A­gamemnon for theyr cōcubines, where A­chilles, renouncynge the obedience, that he with all other pryncis had before pro­mysed, at the batayle fyrste enterprysed a­gaynste the Troyans. For at that tyme no lyttell murmur, and sedition was moued in the hoste of the grekes, whiche not with­standynge was wonderfully pacified: and the armie vnscatered, by the maiestie of A­gamemnon, Maiestie? ioynynge to him counsailours, Nestor and the wytty Ulisses. Nestor. Ulisses.

¶ But to retourne agayne. Athenes and other cities of Grece, whan they had abā ­doned kynges, and concluded to lyue as it were in a cōmunaltie, whiche abusifly they called equality: howe long tyme did any of them continue in peace? Yea what vacati­on had they from the warres? or what no­ble man had they, which auaunced the ho­nour and weale of theyr Citie, whom they did not banishe or slee in prison? Surely it shall appere to them, that wyll rede Plu­tarche, or Emilius probus, in the lyues of Milciades, Cimon, Themistocles, Aristi­des, and diuerse other noble & valiant capi­taynes: which is to longe here to reherse. Kynges in Rome.

¶ In lyke wyse the Romaynes, durynge [Page] the time that they were vnder kinges, whiche was by the space of. 144. yeres, were well gouerned, nor neuer was among them discorde or sedition: But after that by the persuatiō of Brutus and Colatinus, whose wyfe (Lucretia) was rauyshed by the sōne Lucrecia. of Tarquine, kynge of Romaynes, not on­ly the sayde Tarquine and all his postery­tie, were exiled out of Rome for euer, but also it was finally determyned amonge the people, that neuer after they wolde haue a kynge reygne ouer them. Consequently the cōmunaltie more and more encroched a lycence, and at the last compelled the Senate to suffre them to chose yerely amonge them, gouernours of theyr owne astate & condition, whō they called Trybunes: vn­der Tribunes. whom they resceyued suche audacytie and power, that they finally opteyned the highest auctoritie in the publyke weale: in so moche, that oftentymes they dyd repele the actes of the Senate, and to those Tri­bunes mought a man appele from the Se­nate, or any other offyce or dygnitie. But what came therof in conclusion? Surelye whan there was any difficulte warre immi­nent, they were constrayned to electe one soueraygne and chyefe of all other, whom they named Dictator, as it were commaun­der, Dictator. from whom it was not laufull for any [Page 11] man to appele. But bycause there appered to be in hym the prystinate auctorytie and maiestie of a kynge, they wolde no longer suffre hym to continue in that dignitie, than by the space of .vi. monethes, excepte he than resigned it, and by the consente of the people eftsones dyd resume it. Finally vn­tyl Octauius Augustus had distroied An­thony, and also Brutus: and finished al the Ciuile warres (that were so called bycause Ciuile▪ warres they were betwene the same selfe Romayn citezins) the citie of Rome was neuer long quiete from factions or sedicions amonge the people. And if the nobles of Rome had not bē men of excellent lerning, wisedome, and prowesse, & that the Senate, the moste noble counsaylle in all the worlde, whiche was fyrste ordeyned by Romulus, and en­creased by Tullus hostilius, the thyrd king of Romaynes, had not continued, and with great difficultie reteyned theyr auctoritie, I suppose verylye, that the Citie of Rome had ben vtterly desolate sone after the ex­pellynge of Tarquine. And if it hadde ben eftesones renewed, it shulde haue ben twē ­ty tymes dystroyed, before the tyme that Augustus raygned: so moch discorde was euer in the citie, for lacke of one gouernor.

¶ But what nede we to serche so fer from vs, sens we haue sufficiente examples nere [Page] vnto vs? Beholde the astate of Florence Florence and Gene. and Gene, noble cities of Italy, what cala­mite haue they both sustened by their own factions, for lacke of a cōtinuall gouernor?

¶ Ferrare, and the moste excellent cite of Ferraria. Uenise, hauynge dukes, seldome suffre da­mage, excepte it happen by outwarde ho­stilitie.

¶ We haue also an example at home, which is moste necessary to be noted.

¶ After that the Saxons by treasone had Englande. deuided. expelled out of England the Britons, whi­che were the auncient inhabitauntes, this realme was deuyded into sondry regions, or kyngedomes. O what mysery was the people than in? O howe this moste noble Isle of the worlde was decerpt and rent in pieces? the people pursued and hunted like wolfes, or other beastes sauage: none in­dustry auayled, no strength defended, noo ryches profited. Who wolde then haue de­sired to haue ben rather a man than a dog, whan men eyther with swerde or with hū ­gre peryshed, hauynge no profite or susty­nance of theyr owne corne or catell, which by mutuall warre was contynually distroy­ed? Yet the dogges, eyther takynge that that men coulde not quietly come by, or fe­dynge on the deed bodies, whiche on eue­ry parte lay scatered plentously, dyd satis­fye [Page 12] theyr hungre.

¶ Where fynde ye any good lawes, that at that tyme were made and vsed? or any cō ­mendable monumente, of any scyence or crafte in this realme occupied? suche ini­quitie semeth to be than, that by the multi­tude of soueraygne gouernours, all thyn­ges hadde ben brought to confusion, if the noble kinge Edgar hadde not reduced the Kynge Edgar. monarchie to his pristinate astate and fy­gure: whiche brought to passe, reason was reuiued, & people came to cōformitie, & the realme began to take comfort, and to shewe some visage of a publike weale: and so (lau­ded be god) haue continued: but not being alway in like astate or condition. Al be it, it is not to be dispaired, but that the king our soueraigne lorde nowe reignynge, and this realme, alway hauyng one prince, like vnto his highnes, equall to the auncient princis, in vertue and courage, it shall be reduced (god so dysposyng) vnto a publyke weale, excellynge al other in preeminence of ver­tue, and abundance of thynges necessary.

¶ But for as moche as I do wel perceiue, that to wryte of the offyce or duetye of a soueraygne gouernoure or prynce, farre excedeth the compasse of my lernyng, ho­lye scrypture affyrmynge, that the har­tes of pryncis be in goddes owne handes [Page] and dysposition: I wyll therfore kepe my penne within the space that is discrybed to me, by the thre noble maysters, reason, ler­nynge, and experience. And by theyr en­seignement or teachynge, I wyl ordynate­ly treate of the two partes of a publyke weale, wherof the one shall be named due Due ad­ministra­tion. administration, the other necessary occu­pation, whiche shall be deuyded in to two volumes. In the fyrste shal be comprehen­ded the best fourme of education or bryn­gyng Occupa­tion. vp of noble chyldren, from their na­tiuitie, in suche maner as they may be foūd worthy, and also able to be gouernours of a publyke weale. The second volume, whi­che god grauntinge me quietnes and liber­tie of mynde, I wyl shortly after send forth: It shall conteyne all the remenant, whiche I canne eyther by lernynge or experience fynde apte to the perfection of a iuste pub­lyke weale: in the whiche, I shall so ende­uour my selfe, that al men, of what astate or condition so euer they be, shall fynde ther­in occasion to be alway vertuously occupy­ed: and not without pleasure, if they be not of the scholes of Aristippus, or Apicius: of whom the one supposed felycitye to be onely in lechery, the other in delycate fe­dyng and glotony. From whose sharpe ta­lons and cruell tethe, I beseche all gentyll [Page 13] reders to defende these warkes, whiche for theyr commodite is onely compiled,

That in a publyke weale ought to be infe­riour gouernours called Magistrates, whiche shal be appoynted or chosen by the soueraygne gouernour. Capitulo. iii.

THere be bothe reasons and examples vndoutedly infy­nite, wherby maye be pro­ued, that there can be no perfect publyke weale, without one capitall and soueraygne gouernour, whiche maye longe endure or continue. But sens one mortal man can not haue knowlege of all thynges done in a re­alme or large dominion, and at one time dis­cusse all controuersics, refourme all trans­gressions, and exploite al cōsultations, cō ­cluded as well for outwarde, as inwarde affayres: it is expedyente, and also nede­full, that vnder the capytall gouernour be sondry meane auctorities, as it were ay­dynge hym in the dystribution of iustice in sondry partes of a huge multitude: wherby his labours being leuigate, and made more tollerable, he shal gouerne with the better aduyse, and consequently with a more per­fecte gouernaunce. And as Iesus Sirach, Sapi. vi. [Page] saythe, The multitude of wyse men is the welth of the world. They which haue such auctorities to them cōmitted, may be called inferiour gouernours, hauynge respect to theyr office or duetie, wherin is also a re­presentation of gouernance: All be it they be named in latine Magistratus. And heraf­ter I intende to cal them Magistrates, lac kynge an other more conuenient worde in englyshe: but that wyll I do in the seconde parte of this warke, where I purpose to write of theyr sondry offices, or effectes of theyr auctoritie.

¶ But for as moche as in this parte, I in­tende to write of theyr education and ver­tue in maners, whiche they haue in cōmune with princes, in as moche as therby they shal as wel by examble, as by auctoritie, or­dre wel them, whiche by theyr capital go­uernour, shall be to theyr rule commytted, I may without anoyance of any man, name them gouernours at this tyme, aproprya­tinge to the soueraygnes, names of kinges and princis, sens of a longe custome, these names, in cōmune fourme of speking, be in a higher preemynence and estimation than gouernours. That in euery cōmune weale ought to be a great nombre of suche maner of persons, it is partly proued in the chap­tre next before written, where I haue spo­ken [Page 14] of the commoditie of ordre.

¶ Also reason and commune experyence playnely declare, that where the dominion is large and populouse, there it is conueni­ent, that a prynce haue many inferiour go­uernours: whiche be named of Aristotel, Politic. li. iiii. his eies, eares, handes, and legges: whi­che if they be of the beste sorte (as he fur­ther more saith) it semeth impossible, a coū tre not to be wel gouerned by good lawes. And excepte excellent vertue and lernyng do inhable a manne of the base astate of the communaltie, to be thought of al men wor­thy to be so moche auaunced, els suche go­uernours wold be chosen out of that astate of men, whiche be called worshypfull, if amonge them may be founden a sufficiente nombre, ornate with vertue and wysedome, mete for suche purpose: and that for son­dry causes.

¶ Fyrste it is of good congruence, that the superiours in condition or hauiour, shulde haue also preeminence in administration, if they be not inferiour to other in vertue.

Also they, hauynge of theyr owne reuen­nues certayne, wherby they haue compe­tente substaunce to lyue withoute takynge rewardes: it is lykely, that they wyll not be so desirous of lucre (wherof may be en­gendred corruption) as they, whiche haue [Page] very lytteli or nothynge so certayne.

¶ More ouer, where vertue is in a gentyl man, it is commonly myxte with more suf­ferance, Gentilmē. more affabilitie, and myldenes, thā for the more parte it is in a person rurall or of a very base lynage, and whan it hapneth other wyse, it is to be accompted lothsome and monstruous.

¶ Furthermore, where the person is wor­shyppefull, his gouernaunce, though it be sharpe, is to the people more tollerable, and they therwith the lesse grutche or be dysobedient.

¶ Also suche menne hauynge substaunce in goodes by certeyne and stable possessions, which they may aporcionate to theyr owne lyuynge and bryngynge vp of theyr chyl­dren in lernynge and vertues, maye (if na­ture repugne not) cause them to be soo in­structed and furnyshed towarde the admi­nistration of a publyke weale, that a poore mannes sonne, onely by his naturall wytte, without other helpe, neuer or seldome may atteyne to the lyke. Towarde the whiche instruction, I haue prepared this warke.

The education or fourme of bryngynge vp of the chylde of a gentylman, whiche is to haue auctoritie in a publyke weale. Capitulo. iiii.

[Page 15] FOr as moche as al noble au­thors do conclude, and com­mune experyence proueth, that where the gouernours of realmes & cities be foun­den adourned with vertues, and do employ theyr studye and mynde to the publyke weale, as well to the augmen­tation ther of, as to the establysshynge and longe continuaunce of the same: there a publyke weale muste nedes be both hono­rable and welthy. To the entēt to declare, howe suche personages may be prepared, I wyll vse the polycie of a wyse and cun­nynge gardener, who purposynge to haue Education of noble wyttes. in his gardeine a fyne and preciouse herbe, that shulde be to hym and all other, repay­rynge therto, excellentely cōmodious, or pleasaunt: he wyll syrste serche throughe­out his gardeyne, where he can fynde the moste melowe and fertyle erth, and therin wyl he put the sede of the herbe to growe, and be norysshed, and in moste diligent wise attende, that no weede be suffred to growe or approche nyghe vnto it: and to the ende it maye thryue the faster, as scone as the fourme of an herbe ones appereth, he wyl set a vessel of water by it, in suche wyse, that it may contynually distyll on the rote swete dropes: and as it spryngeth in stalke, vnder [Page] sette it with some thinge, that it breake not, and alway kepe it clene from wedes. Like ordre wyll I ensue, in the fourmynge the gentyll wyttes of noble mennes chyldren, who frome the wombes of theyr mother, shalbe made propise or apte to the gouer­naunce of a publyke weale.

¶ Fyrste they, vnto whom the bringing vp of suche chyldren apperteyneth, ought a­gainste Norcies▪ howe they oughte to be chosen. the tyme that theyr mother shall be of them deliuered, to be sure of a nourise, whiche shoulde be of no seruile condicion, or vice notable. For as some auncient wri­ters do suppose, oftē times the childe sou­keth the vice of his nourise, with the mylke ofher pappe. And also obserue, that she be of mature or ripe age, not vnder. xx. yeres, or aboue. xxx. her body also beynge clene from all sykenes, or deformyte, and hauing her complection mooste of the ryghte and pure sanguine. For as moche as the mylke therof cominge, excelleth all other, bothe in swetenes and substance.

¶ More ouer, to the nouryse shuld be ap­poynted A goner­nes or drynoryce an other womanne, of approued vertue, dyscretion, and grauitie, who shal not suffre in the childes prescence to be she­wed any acte or tatche dyshoneste, or any wantō or vnclene worde to be spoken. And [Page 16] for that cause all menne, excepte phisyty­ons onely, shulde be excluded and kepte out of the nursery.

¶ Perchaunce somme wyll scorne me, for that I am soo seryous, sayinge that there is no suche damage to be fered in an infant, who for tendernesse of yeres, hath not the vnderstandynge, to decerne good from y­uell. And yet no manne wyll deny, but in that innocency he wyldecerne mylke from butter, and breadde from pappe, and er he canne speake, he wyll with his hande or countenaunce sygnyfie, which he desyreth. And I veryly suppose, that in the braynes and hartes of yonge chyldren, whiche be membres spirytuall, whyles they be ten­der, and the lyttell slyppes of reason begin in theym to burgyne, there maye happe by yuell custome, some pestyferours dewe of vyce to perse the sayde membres, and in­fecte and corrupt the soft and tendre bud­des, wherby the fruite maye growe wilde, and some tyme conteyne in it feruente and mortall poyson, to the vtter destruction of a realme.

¶ And we haue in dayly experience, that Enfanc [...]e. lyttell infantes assaye to folowe, not onely the wordes, but also the faictes, and ge­sture of them, that be prouecte in yeres. [Page] For we dayly here, to our greate heuynes, chyldren swere greatte othes, and speake lasciuious and vnclene wordes, by the ex­ample of other, whom they here: wherat the leude parentes do reioice, sone after, or in this worlde, orels where, to theyr gret peyne and tourmente. Contrary wyse, we beholde some chyldren, knelynge in theyr game before images, and holdyng vp their lyttell whyte handes, moue theyr pratye mouthes, as they were prayeng: other go­ynge and syngyng, as it were in procession. wherby they do expresse theyr dysposition, to the imitation of those thynges, be they good or yuel, which they vsually se or here. Wherfore not onely princis, but also all o­ther chyldren, from theyr nurises pappes, are to be kepte diligently from the heryng or seinge of any vise or yuell tache. And in continent, as sone as they can speake, it be­houeth with most pleasaunt allurynges, to instill in them swete maners and vertuouse custome.

¶ Also to prouide for them suche compa­nions and play felowes, as shall not doo in theyr presence any reprocheable acte, or speake any vncleane word or othe, ne to ad uaunte theym with flattery, remembrynge theyr nobylytie, or any other lyke thynge, wherin they moughte glory: onles it be to [Page 17] perswade them to vertue, or to with drawe them from vice, in the remembring to them the danger of theyr yuell example. For no­ble men more greuously offend by theyr ex­ample, than by theyr dede. Yet often remē ­braunce to them of theyr astate, maye hap­pen to radicate in theyr hartes intollerable pryde, the moste dangerous poyson to no­blenes. wherfore there is requyred to be there in moche cautele and sobrenes.

The ordre of lernynge, that a noble man shulde be trayned in, before he come to thaige of seuen yeres. Cap. v.

SOme olde auctours hold o­pinion, that before the age of seuen yeres, a chylde shulde not be instructed in letters, but those wryters were ey­ther grekes or latines: amōg whom all doctryne and scyences were in theyr maternall tonges, by reason wherof they saued all that longe tyme, whiche at this dayes is spente in vnderstandyng per­fectely the greke or latyn. Wherfore it re­quireth nowe a longer tyme to the vnder­standynge of bothe. Therfore that infely­citie, of our tyme and countrey compelleth vs to encroche somwhat vpon the yeres of [Page] chyldren, and specially of noble men, that they maye soner attayne to wysedowe and grauitie, than priuate persones: consyde­rynge, as I haue sayde, theyr charge and example, whiche aboue al thynges is most to be estemed. Not withstandynge I wold not haue them inforced by violēce to lerne, but accordynge to the counsayle of Quin­tilian, to be swetely allured therto, with prayses, and suche pratye gyftes as chyl­dren delyte in. And theyr fyrste letters to be paynted or lymned in a pleasaunt maner: wherein chyldren of gentyll courage haue moche delectation. And also there is noo better allectiue to noble wyttes, thanne to induce theym in to a contention with theyr inferiour companions: they somtyme pur­posely suffrynge the more noble chyldren to vainquy she, and as it were gyuynge to them place and soueraintie, though in dede the inferiour chyldren haue more lernyng. But there can be nothyng more conueniēt, than by lytel and lyttel to trayne and exer­cyse them in spekynge of latin: infourming them to knowe first the names in latin of al thynges that come in syghte, and to name all the parties of theyr bodyes: and giuing them some what that they couete or desire in moste gentyll maner, to teache theym to aske it agayne in latin. And if by this mea­nes [Page 18] they maye be induced to vnderstande and speake latyne, it shall afterwarde be lesse grefe to them in a maner, to lerne any thing, where they vnderstand the langage, wherin it is wrytten. And as touchynge grammer, there is at this day better intro­ductions, and more facile, than euer before were made, concernynge as well greke as latine, if they be wysely chosen.

¶ And it is no reproche to a noble manne, Instructi­on in infā ­cie. to instructe his owne chyldren, or at the leaste wayes, to examine them by the waye of dalyaunce or solace, consyderynge that the emperoure Octauius Augustus, dys­dayned not to rede the warkes of Cicero, and Uirgile, to his chyldren and neuewes. And why shulde nat noble men rather soo do, thanne teache theyr chyldren howe at dyse and cardes they maye connyngly lese and consume theyr owne treasure and sub­staunce?

¶ More ouer, teachyng representeth the auctorytie of a pyrnce. wherfore Dionyse, Dionise the tirrāte king of Cicile, whan he was for tiranny ex­pelled by his people, he came in to Italy, and there, in a commune schole taught grā mer: where with whan he was of his ene­mies embraided, & called a schole mayster, he answered them, That although Sicili­ans had exiled hym, yet in despite of them [Page] all he reigned: notynge therby the aucto­ritie that he hadde ouer his scholers. Also whan it was of hym demanded, what auai­led hym Plato, or philosophy, wherin he had ben studious, he answered, That they caused hym to susteyne aduersitie pacient­ly, and made his exile to be to hym more facile and easye. whiche courage and wyse­dome considered of his peoble, they efte­sones restored him vnto his realme and a­state royal, where if he hadde procured a­gayne them hostilitie, or warres, or hadde returned into Sicile with any violence, I suppose the people wolde alway haue resi­sted and kepte hym in perpetuall exile: as the Romaynes dyd the proude kinge Tar­quine, whose sonne rauished Lucrece. But to retourne to my purpose.

¶ It shall be expedient, that a noble man­nes sonne, in his infancye, haue with hym continually, only suche, as may accustome hym by lyttel and lyttel to speake pure and elegant latyn. Semblably the nourises and other women aboute hym, if it be possyble, to do the same: or at the leaste waye, that they speke none englishe, but that, whiche is cleane, polite, perfectly, and articulate­ly pronounced, omittynge no letter or syl­lable, as folyshe women often tymes do of a wantonnes, wherby diuers noble menne, [Page 19] and gentylmens chyldren (as I do at this daye knowe) haue atteyned corrupte and foule pronuntiation. This industry vsed in fourmynge lyttell infantes, who shall dout, but that they (not lackynge natural wytte) shall be apt to receyue lerninge, whan they come to mo yeres? And in this wyse maye they be instructed, without any violence or inforsynge: vsynge the more parte of the tyme, vntyll they come to the aege of .vii. yeres, in suche dy sportes as do apperteine to chyldren, wherin is no resemblaunce or similitude of vice.

At what age a tutour shulde be pro­uyded, and what apperteyneth to his office to do. Capi. vi.

AFter a chylde is come to se­uen yeres of age, I holde it expediente, that he be taken from the company of womē: sauynge that he maye haue one yere or two at the most, an aunciente and sad matrone attendynge on hym in his chaumbre, whiche shall not haue any yonge woman in her company: For though there be no perylle of offence in that tender and innocent age, yet in some chyldren nature is more proue to vice than [Page] to vertue, and in the tender wittes be spar­kes of voluptuositie: whiche norisshed by any occasion or obiecte, encrease often ty­mes in to so terrible a fyre, that therwith all vertue and reason is consumed. wher­fore to eschewe that danger, the most sure counsaylle is, to withdrawe hym from all company of womē, and to assigne vnto him a tutor, whiche shulde be an aunciente and worshypfull man, in whom is approued to be moche gentilnes, myxte with grauitie, & as nyghe as can be suche one, as the child, by imitation folowynge, may growe to be excellente. And if he be also lerned, he is the more commendable,

¶ Pelcus the father of Achilles, commit­ted the gouernaunce of his sonne to Phe­nix, whiche was a straunger borne: who as phenix Achilles tutor. well in speakynge elegantely, as in doinge valyauntely, was mayster to Achilles, as Homere sayth.

¶ Howe moche profited it to kynge Phi­lip, father to the great Alexander, that he was deliuered in hostage to the Thebanes Alexāder the great. Epaminō ­das tutor to kynge philip. where he was kepte and brought vp vnder the gouernaunce of Epaminondas, a no­ble and valyaunte capytayne, of whom he receyued suche lernynge, as well in actes martiall, as in other lyberall sciences, that he excelled al other kynges, that were be­fore [Page 20] his tyme in Grece: and fynally as wel by wysedome as prowes, subdued all that countrey?

¶ Semblably he ordeyned for his sonne Alexaunder a noble tutor, called Leoni­das, Leonidas tutor to kynge A­lexander. vnto whom for his wysedome, huma­nytie, and lernyng, he commytted the rule and preemynence ouer all the maisters and seruantes of Alexander. In whom not with standynge was suche a famylier vyce, whi­che Alexander apprehendynge in chyld­hode, coulde neuer abandon, some suppose it to be fury and hastynes, other superflu­ous drynkynge of wyne, whiche of theym it were, it is a good warnynge for gentyll menne, to be the more seryous, inserchyng not onelye for the vertues, but also for the vyces of theym, vnto whose tuityon and gouernaunce they wyll commytte theyr chyldren.

¶ The offyce of a tutor is fyrste to knowe Office of a tutor. the nature of his pupil, that is to say, wher to he is moste inclyned or dysposed, and in what thing he setteth his most delectation or appetyte. If he be of nature curteise, pi­teouse, and of a free and liberall harte, it is a pryncypall token of grace (as it is by all scripture determined) Than shal a wyse tutor, purposely cōmende those vertues, ex­tolling also his pupil, for hauynge of them: [Page] and therwith he shall declare them to be of al men most fortunate, whiche shal happen to haue suche a mayster. And more ouer shall declare to hym, what honour, what loue, what commoditie shal happen to him by these vertues. And if any haue benne of dysposytion contrary, than to expresse the enormities of theyr vice, with as moch de­testation as maye be. And if any daunger haue therby ensued, mysfortune, or punishemente, to agreue it in suche wyse, with soo vehement wordes, as the childe maye ab­horre it, and feare the lyke aduenture.

In what wyse musike may be to a noble man necessary: and what modestie ought to be therin. Cap. vii.

THe discretion of a tutor, consisteth in temperaunce: that is to saye, that he suffre not the child to be fatigate with continuall study or lernyng: wherwith the delycate and tender wytte maye be dulled or oppressed: but that there may be therwith entrelased and myxte, some pleasaunte lernynge, and exercise, as playeng on instrumētes of mu­sike, whiche moderately vsed, and without diminution of honour, that is to say; with­out [Page 21] wanton countenance and dissolute ge­sture, is not to be contemned: For the no­ble kyng and prophete Dauid, kyng of Is­rael (whom almyghty god sayd, he hadde chosen as a man accordyng to his harte or desyre) duringe his lyfe, delyted in musike: And with the swete harmony, that he made on his harpe, he cōstrained the iuel spirite, that vexed kinge Saul, to forsake him, con­tinuynge the tyme that he harped.

¶ The moste noble and valiaunt princis of Grece often tymes, to recrete theyr spiri­tes, and in augmentinge their courage, en­braced instrumentes musicall.

¶ Thus dydde the valiant Achilles (Ho­mere Achilles. Homerus. Iliades primo. sayth) who after the sharpe and ve­hement contention, betwene hym and Agamemnon, for the takynge away of his con­cubine: wherby he beinge set in a fury, had slayne Agamemnon, emperour of the gre­kes army, had not Pallas the goddes with drawen his hande. In whiche rage he all inflamed, departed with his people to his owne shyppes, that lay at rode, intendyng to haue retourned in to his countrey: but after he had taken to hym his harpe (wher on he hadde lerned to playe of Chiron the Chiron. Centaure, whiche also taughte hym feates of armes, with physicke and surgery) and playeng theron, had songen the gestis and [Page] actis martiall of the auncyente pryncis of Grece, as Hercules, Perscus, Perithous, Theseus, and his cosin Iasō, and of diuers other of semblable value and prowesse: he was therwith asswaged of his fury, and re­duced in to his fyrst astate of reason: in su­che wise, that in redoubing his rage, & that there by shuld not remaine to him any note of reproche, he reteining his fiers & stour­dy countenaunce, so tempered him selfe, in the enterteinemente and aunswerynge the messagers, that came to hym from the resi­due of the Grekes, that they reputynge al that his fiers demeanour to be (as it were) a diuine maieste, neuer embraided him with any inordinate wrath or fury.

¶ And therfore the great kynge Alexan­der, Alexan­ders mu­syke. whan he had vainquished Ilion, where some tyme was sette the mooste noble citie of Troye, beyng demaunded of one, if he wolde se the harpe of Paris Alexander, who rauisshed Helene, he there at gentil­ly simylynge, aunswered, It was not the thynge that he moche desyred, but had ra­ther se the harpe of Achilles, wherto he sange, not the illecebrous dilectatyons of Uenus, but the valyant actes and noble af­faires of excellent princis.

¶ But in this commendation of musyke, I wolde not be thought to allure noble men, [Page 22] to haue soo moche delectation therin, that in playinge and syngynge onely, they shuld put theyr hole study and felicitie: As dyd Musike reproueable. the epmerour Nero, whiche all a long so­mers day wolde syt in the Theatre (an opē Theatre. place where al the people of Rome beheld solemne actis and playes) and in the pre­sence of all the noble menne and senatours, wolde playe on his harpe and synge with­out cessynge. And if any manne hapned by longe sitting to slepe, or by any other coū ­tenance, to shewe hym selfe to be wery, he was sodeynely bobbed on the face by the scruantes of Nero, for that purpose atten­dynge. Or if any person were perceiued to be absent, or were sene to laughe at the fo­ly of the emperour, he was forth with ac­cused, as it were of misprision. Wherby the emperour founde occasion to commyt him to prison, or to put him to tortures. O what Musyke miserable. misery was it, to be subiect to suche a min­strell, in whose musike was no melody but anguishe and dolour?

¶ It were therfore better, that no musike were taught to a noble man, than by the ex­acte knowledge therof, he shuld haue ther­in inordinate delyte: and by that be illected to wantonnes, abandonynge grauitie and the necessary cure and office in the publike weale to hym commytted.

[Page] ¶ Kynge Philip, whan he harde that his Kynge Philipips wordes. to Alexā ­der. sonne Alexander dydde synge swetely and proprely, rebuked hym gentylly, sayinge, But Alexander, be ye not ashamed, that ye can synge so well and connyngly? wherby he mente, that the open profession of that craft was but of a base estimation. And that it suffysed a noble man, hauing therin knowlege, eyther to vse it secretelye, for the re­freshynge of his wytte, whan he hath time of solace: orels onely herynge the conten­tion of noble musicyens, to gyue iugement in the excellēcie of theyr conninges. These be the causes, wherento hauyng regarde, musyke is not onely tollerable, but also cō ­mendable. For as Aristotle sayth: Musike in the olde tyme was nombred amonge sci­ences, for as moche as nature seketh not onely, howe to be in busynes well occupy­ed, but also howe in quyetnes to be com­mendably dysposed.

¶ And if the childe be of a perfect inclina­tiō and towardnes to vertue, and very apt­ly Musyke ꝓ fitable. disposed to this science, and rypely doth vnderstand the reason and concordance of tunes, the tutors office shal be, to persuade hym, to haue principally in remembraunce his astate, which maketh hym exempt from the lybertie of vsynge this science in euery tyme and place: that is to say, that it onely [Page 23] serueth for recreation, after tedious or la­borious affaires. And to shewe hym, that a gentylman playinge or syngynge in a com­mune adyence, appayreth his estimation: The people forgettynge reuerence, whan they beholde him in symilitude of a cōmon seruaunt or mynstrel. Yet notwithstanding, he shal commende the perfecte vnderstan­dynge of musyke, declarynge howe neces­sary it is for the better attaining the know­lege of a publyke weale. which as I before sayd, is made of an ordre of astates and de­grees, and by reason therof conteyneth in it a perfect harmony: whiche he shall after warde more perfectly vnderstand, whan he shal happē to rede the bokes of Plato and Aristo. of publike weales: wherin be writ­ten dyuers examples of musyke and geme­try. In this fourme may a wise and cyrcū ­specte tutor, adapte the pleasant science of musike to a necessary & laudable purpose.

That it is cōmendable in a gentyllman to paint and kerue exactly, if nature ther to doth induce hym. Cap. viii.

IF the chylde be of nature inclyned (as many haue ben) to peynte with a pen, or to fourme images in stoone or tree: he shulde not be therfrom with drawen, or na­ture [Page] be rebuked, whiche is to hym beniuo­lent: but puttynge one to hym, whiche is in that crafte, wherin he deliteth, most ex­cellente, in vacant tymes from other more serious lernynge, he shulde be in the moste pure wyse enstructed in payntynge or ker­uinge. And nowe per chance some enuious reder wyll here of take occasyon to scorne me, sayinge, that I hadde well hyed me, to make of a noble man, a mason or peynter.

And yet if eyther ambition or voluptuouse idelnes wolde haue suffered that reder to haue sene histories, he shuld haue founden excellent princis, as wel in payntyng as in keruynge, equal to noble artificers: Suche were Claudius Citus, the sonne of Uaspa­sian, Hadriane, both Antonines, and diuers other emperours and noble princis: whose warkes of longe tyme remayned in Rome and other cities, in suche places, where al men mought beholde them: as monumen­tes of theyr excellent wittes and vertuous occupation, in eschewynge ofydelnes.

¶ And not without a necessary cause, prin­cis were in theyr chyldhode so instructed: for it serued them afterwarde for deuysing ofingynes for the warre: or for makynge them better, that be all redy deuysed. For as Uitruuius (whiche writeth of buyldyng to the emperour Augustus) sayth: Al tur­mentes [Page 24] of warre, whiche we call ingyns, were fyrste inuented by kynges or gouer­nours of hostes: or if they were deuysed by other, they were by them made moche better.

¶ Also by the feate of portraiture or pain­tynge, a capitayne maye dyscriue the coū ­trey of his aduersary, wherby he shall es­chewe the daungerous passages with his hoste or nauie: also perceyue the placis of aduātage, the forme of embataylyng of his ennemyes, the situation of his campe, for his most suretie, the strength or weakenes of the towne or fortresse, whiche he inten­deth to assaulte. And that, whiche is moste specially to be considered, in visitynge his owne dominions, he shall sette them out in figure, in suche wyse, that at his eie shal appere to hym, where he shal employ his study and treasure, as well for the saufegarde of his countrey, as for the commodite and honour therof, hauynge at all times in his sight the suretie and feblenes, auauncemēt and hyndrance of the same. And what ple­sure and also vtilitie is it to a man, which in tendeth to edifie, hym selfe to expresse the fygure of the warke that he purposeth, ac­cordynge as he hath conceyued it in his owne fantasie, wherin by often amendinge and correcting, he fynally shall so perfecte [Page] the warke vnto his purpose, that there shal neyther ensue any repentaunce, nor in the employment of his money he shall be by o­ther dysceyued.

¶ More ouer the feate of portrayture shal be an allectiue to euery other study or exercise. For the wit therto disposed, shal alway coueite congruent matter, wherin it maye be occupyed, And whan he happeneth to rede or here any fable or history, forthwith he apprehendeth it more desircusly, and re teyneth it better than any other, that lac­keth the sayd fcate: by reason that he hath founde matter apte to his fantasy. Fynally euery thynge that portraiture maye com­prehend, wyll be to hym delectable to rede or here. And where the lyuely spirite, and that which is called the grace of the thing, is perfectely expressed, that thynge more perswadeth and stereth the beholder, and soner instructeth hym, than the declarati­on in writynge or speakyng doth the reder or hercr. Experiēce we haue ther of in ler­nynge of geometry, astronomy, and cosmogrophy, called in englysshe the discription of the worlde. In whiche studies I dare af­fyrme, a man shal more profyte in one wike by figures and cartis, well and perfectely made, than he shall by the onely redyng or herynge the rules of that scyence, by the [Page 25] space of halfe a yere at the leaste. Wherfore the late writers deserue no small commen­dation, which added to the autors of those sciences apt and propre figures.

¶ And he that is perfectely instructed in portrayture, and hapneth to rede any no­ble and excellent historie, wherby his cou­rage is inflamed to the imitation of vertue, he forthwith taketh his pen or pensyl, and with a graue and substanciall study, gathe­rynge to hym al the partes of imagination, endeuoureth hym selfe to expresse lyuely, and (as I mought say) actually, in portrai­ture, not onely the faicte or affayre, but al­so the sondry affectiōs of euery personage in the historie recited, whiche moughte in any wyse appere or be perceyued in theyr visage, countenance, or gesture: with lyke diligence, as Lysippus made in metal king Lisippus. Alexander, fightynge and struggling with a terrible lyon of incomparable magnitude and fiersenes: whom, after longe and dyf­ficulte batayle, with wonderfull strengthe and cleane might, at the last he ouerthrewe and vainquished. Wherin he soo expressed the similitude of Alexander, and of his lor­des standinge about hym, that they all se­med to lyue. Among whom the prowes of Alexander appered excellynge all other, the resydue of his lordes after the value [Page] and estimation of theyr courage, euery man set out in suche forwardnes, as they than semed more promte to the helpyng of their maister, that is to saye, one lasse aferd than an other.

¶ Phidias the Atheniense, whom all wry­ters Phidias. do commende, made of yuory the simu lachre or image of Iupiter, honoured by the gentiles, on the hyghe hille of Dlym­pus: whiche was done so excellently, that Pandenus, a counnynge paynter, therat admaruaylynge, required the craftis man, to shewe hym where he had the example, or paterne of so noble a warke. Than Phi­dias answered, that he had taken it out of thre verses of Homere the poete: the sen­tence wherof ensueth as well as my poore wytte can expresse it in englishe.

¶ Where it is to be noted, that Thetis the mother of Achilles, desired Iupiter to in­cline his fauour to the part of the Troiās.

¶ Howe (as I haue before sayd) I intend not by these examples, to make of a prynce or noble mannes sonne a commune payn­ter or keruer, whiche shal present hym selfe openly, stained or embrued with sondry co­lours, [Page 26] or poudered with the duste of stones that he cutteth, or perfumed with tedy­ous sauours of the mettalles by him yoten. But veryly myne intente and meanynge is onely, that a noble chylde, by his owne na­turall disposition, and not by coertion, may be induced, to receyue perfect instruction in these sciences.

What exacte diligence shulde be in cho­synge maysters. Capitulo. ix.

AFter that the childe hath bē pleasauntly trayned and in­duced to knowe the partes of speche, and can seperate one of them from an other, in his owne langage, It shal thā be time, that his tutor or gouernour do make dilygente serche for suche a mayster: as is exellentely lerned bothe in greke and latyne, and therwithall is of sobre and ver­tuous dysposition, specially chast of liuing, and of moche affabilitie and patience: leste by any vncleane example the tender minde of the chylde maye be infected, harde after warde to be recouered. For the natures of chyldren be not so moche or sone aduaun­ced by thynges well doone or spoken as they be hyndred and corrupted by that, [Page] whiche in actis or wordes is wontonly ex­pressed. Also by a cruel and irous mayster, the wyttes of chyldren be dulled: and that thynge, for the whiche chyldren be often tymes beaten, is to them euer after fastidi­ous: wherof we nede no better auctor for wytnes, than dayly experience. Wherfore the moste necessary thinges to be obserued by a maister in his disciples or scholers (as Licon the noble gramarien sayd) is sham­fastnes and prayse. By shamefastnes, as it were with a brydell, they rule as well their dedes, as theyr appetites. And desyre of prayse addeth to a sharpe spurre to theyr dysposition towarde lernynge and vertue. Accordynge there vnto Quintilian instru­ctynge an oratour, desireth suche a chylde to be giuen vnto hym, whom commendati­on feruently stereth, glory prouoketh, and beinge vaniquisshed, wepeth. That childe (saith he) is to be fedde with ambition, him a lyttel chyding sore biteth, in hym no part of slouth is to be feared.

¶ And if nature disposeth not the chyldes wytte to receyue lernyng, but rather other wyse: it is to be applyed with more dyly­gence and also polycie, as chosynge some boke, wherof the argument or matter ap­procheth moste nyghe to the childes incli­nation or fantasy, so that it be not exstreme­ly [Page 27] vicious, and therwith by littel and lytel, as it were with a pleasaunt sauce, prouoke hym to haue good appatite to studye. And surely that child, what so euer he be, is wel blessed and fortunate, that fyndeth a good instructour or mayster. Whiche was consy­dered by noble kynge Philip, father to the great kynge Alexander, who immediately after his sonne was borne, wrote a letter to Aristotle, the prynce of philosophers, the tenour wherof ensueth.

¶ Aristotle, we grete you well. Lettynge The epi­stel of king Philip to Aristotel. you wytte, that we haue a sonne borne, for the which we gyue due thankes vnto god, not for that he is borne onely, but also for as moch as it happeneth hym to be borne, you lyuinge. Trustynge that it shall happē, that he by you taught and instructed, shall be hereafter worthy to be named our sōne, and to enioy the honour and substance that we now haue prouided. Thus fare ye wel.

¶ The same Alexander was wonte to saye opnly, that he ought to gyue as great thā ­kes to Aristoble his mayster, as to kynge Philip his father, for of hym he toke the occasion to lyue, of the other he receyued the reason and way to lyue well. And what maner a prince Alexader was made by the doctryne of Aristotle, it shall appere in di­uers places of this boke: where his exam­ple [Page] to princis shall be declared.

¶ The incomparable benefite of maisters, haue ben well remembred of dyuers pryn­cis. In so moche as Marcus Antoninus, whiche amonge the emperours was com­mended for his vertue and sapyence, had his mayster Proculus (who taughte hym grammer) so moche in fauour, that he ad­uaunced hym to be proconsull: which was one of the hyghest dygnyties amonge the Romaynes.

¶ Alexāder the emperour caused his mai­ster Julius Fronto, to be cōsul: which was the highest office, and in astate next the emperour: & also opteyned of the senate, that the statue or image of Fronton was set vp amonge the noble princis.

¶ What caused Traiane to be soo good a prince (in so moch that of late dayes, whan an Emperoure receyued his crowne at Rome, the people with a commune crie de­syred of god, that he moughte be as good as was Trayane) but that he hapned to haue Plutarche, the noble phylosoper, to be his instructour?

¶ I agree me, that some be good of natu­ral inclination to goodnes, but where good instructyon and exaumple is therto added, the naturall goodnes muste there with ne­des be amended, and be more excellent.

What order shulde be in lernynge, and whiche autours shulde be fyrste redde. Capitulo. x.

NOwe let vs retourne to the order of lernynge apte for a gentyll man. Wherin I am of Quintilians opinion, that I wolde haue hym lerne greke and latine authours bothe at one tyme, orels to begyn with greke, for as moche as that is hardeste to come by: by reason of the diuersytie of tonges, whiche be fyue in nombre, and all most be knowen, or elles vneth any poete can be wel vnder­stande. And if a chylde do begyn therin at The fyrste lerninge in childhode. seuen yeres of aege, he maye contynually lerne greke autours thre yeres, and in the meane tyme vse the latin tonge as a family­ar langage: which in a noble mannes sonne maye well come to passe, hauynge none o­ther persons to serue hym or kepynge him company, but suche as can speake latine e­legantly. And what doubt is there? but so maye he as soone speake good latine, as he maye do pure frenche, whiche nowe is broughte into as many rules and fygures, and as longe a grāmer, as is latin or greke. I wyll not contende, who amonge them, that do write grammers of greke (whiche [Page] nowe all most be innumerable) is the best: but that I referre to the discretiō of a wyse mayster. Alway I wolde aduyse hym, not to deteyne the chylde to long in that tedy­ous labours, eyther in the greke or latyne grammer. For a gentyl wytte is there with sone fatigate.

¶Grammer, beinge but an introduction to the vnderstandynge of autors, if it be made to long or exquisite to the lerner, it in a ma­ner mortifyeth his courage: And by that tyme he cometh to the most swete and ple­sante redynge of olde auctors, the sparkes of seruente desyre of lernynge is extyncte, with the burdone of grammer, lyke as a li­tel fire is sone quenched with a gretheape of smal stickes: so that it can neuer come to the principall logges, where it shuld longe bourne in a great pleasaunt fyre.

¶Nowe to folowe my pourpose. After a fewe and quicke rules of grammer, imme­diately, or interlasynge it therwith, wolde be redde to the chylde, Esopes fables in greke: in whiche argument children moch Esopes fables. delyte. And surely it is a moche pleasante lesson, and also profitable, as well for that it is elegante and brefe (and not with stan­dyng it hath moch varietie in wordes, and therwith moche helpeth to the vnderstan­dynge of Greke) as also in those fables is [Page 28] included moche morall and polytyke wyse­dome. Wherfore in the teachynge of them, the maister dilygently muste gather to ge­ther those fables, whiche maye be most ac­commodate to the aduauncement of some vertue, wherto he perceyueth the chylde inclyned: or to the rebuke of somme vyce, wherto he fyndeth his nature dysposed. And therin the maister oughte to exercyse his wytte, as well to make the child plain­ly to vnderstand the fable, as also declaring the signification therof compendiously, and to the purpose. Fore sene allwaye, that as well this lesson as all other auctors, which the chylde shall lerne, eyther greke or la­tine, verse or prose, be perfectly had with­out the boke: wherby he shal not onely at­teyne plentie of the tonges called Copie, but also encrease and nourishe remembrāce wonderfully.

¶The nexte lesson wolde be some quycke The .ii. lesson to children. Lucianus. and mery dialoges, elect out of Luciane, whiche be without ribawdry, or to moche skornynge: for eyther of them is exactely to be eschewed, specially for a noble man, the one anoyenge the soule, the other his estimation, concernynge his grauitie.

¶The comedyes of Aristophanes maye Aristo. be in the place of Luciane, and by reason they be in metre, they be the soner lerned [Page] by harte. I dare make none other compari son betwene them, for offendinge the fren­des of them bothe: but thus moche dare I saye, that it were better, that a chyld shuld neuer rede any parte of Luciane, than all Luciane.

¶I coud reherse diuers other poetis, whi che for mater and eloquēce, be very neces­sary, but I feare me to be to longe from no­ble Homere: from whom as from a foun­tayne, Homerus. proceded al eloquence and lerning. For in his bokes be conteyned, and moste perfectly expressed, not only the documētis marciall and discipline of armes, but also in comparable wysedomes, and instructions for polytike gouernaunce of people: with the worthy commendatiō and laude of no­ble princis, wherwith the reders shall be so all inflamed, that they moste feruentely shall desire and coueite, by the imitation or their vertues, to acquire semblable glory. For the whiche occasion Aristotle, mooste sharpest witted, and excellent lerned Phi­losopher, as sone as he had receiued Alex­ander from kinge Philip his father, before any other thynge taught him the most no­ble warkes of Homere. Wherin Alexander founde suche swetenes and frute, that euer after he had Homere, not onely with hym in all his iourneyes, but also laide hym vn­der [Page 30] his pillowe, whan he went to reste: and often tymes wolde purposely wake some houres of the nyght, to take as it were his passe tyme with that most noble poete. For by the redynge of his warke, called Illia­dos, where the assembly of the most noble grekes againe Troy is recyted, with their affaires, he gathered courage and strength againe his ennemies, wysedome and elo­quence for consultations and perswations to his people and army. And by the other warke, called Odissea, whiche recounteth the sondry aduentures of the wyse Ulisses: he by the example of Ulisses, apprehended many noble vertues, and also lerned to es­kape the fraude and deceytfull imagynati­ons of sondry & subtile crafty wittes. Also there shal he lerne to enserche and pceyue the maners and conditions of them that be his familiars, sifting out (as I mought say) the best from the worste, wherby he maye surely commytte his affaires and truste to euery person after his vertues. Therfore I nowe conclude, that there is no lesson for a yonge gentyll man to be compared with Homere, if he be playnly and substancially expouned and declared by the mayster.

¶Notwithstandyng, for as moche as the sayd warkes be very longe, and do require therfore a great tyme to be all lerned and [Page] kanned: some latin auctour wolde be ther­with myxt, and specially Uirgile: whiche in his warke called Eneidos, is moste lyke to Uirgilius. Homere, and almoste the same Homere in latin. Also by the ioining together of those auctors, the one shall be the better vnder­stande by the other. And veryly (as I be­fore sayd) no one auctour serueth to so dy­uers wittes, as doth Uirgile. For there is not that affect or desire, wherto any childes fantasy is dysposed, but in some of Uirgils warkes may be foūden matter therto apt & propise. For what thing can be more famy­liar than his bucolikes? nor no warke soo nyghe approcheth to the cōmune dalyance & maners of chyldrē, & the praty cōtrouer­sies of the simple shepeherdes therin con­teyned, wonderfully reioyceth the chylde that hereth it wel declared, as I knowe by mine owne experience. In his Georgikes, lorde what pleasaunt varietie there is, the dyuers graynes, herbes, and flowres, that be there described, that redynge therin, it semeth to a man to be in a delectable gar­deyne or paradyse. What ploughe manne knoweth so moch of housebandry, as there is expressed? who delytynge in good hor­sys, shall not be therto more enflamed, re­dynge there, of the bredyng, chesyng, and kepyng of them? In the declaration wher­of [Page 30] Uirgille leaueth farre behynde hym all breders, hakney menne, and skorsers, Is there any astronomer, that more exactely setteth out the ordre and course of the celestiall bodyes: or that more truely doth de­uine in his pronostications of the tymes of the yere, in their qualities, with the future astate of all thynges prouided by huseban­dry, thā Uirgile doth recite in that warke?

If the chylde haue a delyte in huntynge, what pleasure shall he take of the fable of Aristeus? semblably in the hunting of Di­do and Eneas, whiche is discryued mooste elegantly in his boke of Eneidos.

If he haue pleasure in wrastling, renning, or other lyke exercise, where shall he se a­ny more plesaunte esbatementes, than that whiche was doone by Eurealus and other troyans, whiche accompanyed Eneas?

If he take solace in herynge mynstrelles, what mynstrel may be compared to Iopas, whiche sange before Dido and Eneas? or to blinde Demodocus, that played & sange moste swetely at the dyner, that the kynge Alcinous made to Ulisses? whose dityes & melody excelled as farre the songes of our minstrelles, as Homere and Uirgile excell all other poetes,

¶ If he be more desyrous (as the mooste parte of children be) to here thinges mar­uailous [Page] and exquisite, which hath in it a vi­sa ge of some thinges incredyble: wherat shal he more wonder, than whan he shal be­holde Eneas folowe Sibille into hel? what shal he more drede, than the terrible vysa­ges of Cerberus, Gorgon, Megera, and other furies and monsters? howe shall he abhorre tyranny, fraude, & auarice, whan he doth se the peines of duke Theseus, Sisi­phus, and suche other, tormented for their dissolute and vicious lyuynge? Howe glad sone after shall he be, whan he shal beholde in the pleasaunt fieldes of Elisius, the sou­les of noble princis and capitaynes, which for their vertue and labours, in aduaunsing the publyke weales of theyr countryaes, do lyue eternally in pleasure inexplycable? And in the laste bokes of Eneidos, shal he finde matter to minister to hym audacytie, valiaunt courage and polycie, to take and susteyne noble enterprises, if any shall be nedefull for the assailynge of his enemyes. Finally (as I haue sayde) this noble Uir­gile, like to a good norise, giueth to a child, if he wyll take it, euery thynge apte for his witte and capacitie. Wherfore he is in the ordre of lerninge to be preferred before a­ny other autor latine.

¶ I wolde set nexte vnto hym two bokes of Ouid, the one called Metamorphosios, [Page 32] whiche is as moche to saye, as changynge of men in to other fygure or fourme: the o­ther is intytled De fastis: where the cere­monies of the gentyles, and specyally the Romaynes, be expressed: bothe ryght ne­cessarye for the vnderstandynge of other poetes. But by cause there is lyttell other lernynge in them, concernynge eyther vertuous maners or polycie, I suppose it were better that as fables and ceremonyes hap­pē to come in a lesson, to be declared abon­dantly by the maister, than that in the saide two bokes, a longe tyme shulde be spente and almoste loste: whiche mought be bet­ter employed on suche autors, that do mi­nyster both eloquence, ciuile polycie, and exhortation to vertue.

¶ Wherfore in his place, lette vs brynge in Horace, in whom is conteyned moch vari­etie of lerning, and quickenesse of sentence. This poet may be enterlaced with the les­son of Odissea of Homere, wherin is decla­red the wonderfull prudence and fortitude of Ulisses, in his passage from Troye. And if the chylde were induced to make versis by the imytation of Uirgile and Homere, it shulde mynister to hym moche dylectati­on and courage to study: ne the makynge of versis is not discōmended in a noble mā, sens the noble Augustus, and almoste all [Page] the olde emperours made bokes in versis.

¶ The two noble poetis, Silius and Lu­cane, be very expediente to be lerned: for Silius. Lucanus. the one setteth out the emulation in qualy­ties and prowes of two noble and valiante capitaynes, one ennemye to the other, that is to say, Silus writeth of Scipio the Ro­mayne, and Haniball, duke of carthaginen­sys: Lucane declareth a semblable matter, but moche more lamentable: for as moche as the warres were ciuile, and as it were in the bowells of the Romaynes, that is to say, vnder the standerdes of Julius Cesar and Pompei.

¶ Hesiodus in greke, is more briefe than Uirgile, where he writeth of housebandry, and doth not ryse so hyghe in philosophy, but is fuller of fables: And therfore is more illeccbrous.

¶ And here I conclude, to speke any more of poetis necessary for the chyldehode of a gentyll manne: for as moche as these (I doubt not) wyll suffyce, vntyll he passe the age of .xiii. yeres, In whiche tyme child­hode declyneth, and reason waxeth rype, and apprehendeth thinges with a more cō ­stante iugement.

¶ Here I wolde haue remembred, that I require not al these warkes to be through­ly red of a chylde in this time, which were [Page 33] almoste impossible: But I only dosyre, that they haue in euery of the sayde bokes soo moch instruction, that they may take ther­by some profytte. Than the chyldes cou­rage Poetis de fēded and prysed. infiamed by the frequente redynge of noble poetes, dayely more and more desy­reth to haue experyence in those thynges, that they so vehemently do commende in them, that they write of.

¶ Leonidas, the noble kynge of Sparta­nes beynge ones demaunded, of what esti­matiō in poetry Tirtaeus (as he supposed) was: it is written, that he answering sayd, That for steryng the mindes of yong men, he was excellent, for as moche as they be­inge meued with his versys do renne into the batayle, regardynge no peryll, as men all inflamed in martiall courage.

¶ And whan a man is comen to rype ye­res, and that reason in hym is confyrmed with serious lernyng and long experience: than shall he, in redyng tragedies execrate and abhorre the intollerable life of tirātes: And shall contemne the foly and dotage, expressed by poetes lasciuious.

¶ Here wyll I leaue to speake of the firste parte of a noble mannes study: And wyll write of the seconde parte, whiche is more serious, and cōteyneth in it sondry maners of lernynge.

The most commodious and necessary studyes succedynge ordinatly the lesson of poetes. Capitulo. xi.

AFter .xiiii. yeres be passed of a chyldes age: his mai­ster, if he can, or some other, study ously exercysed in the arte of an oratour, shal fyrst rede to hym some what of that parte of logike, that is called Topica, either of Cicero, or els of that noble clerke Logike. Topica. of Almayne, whiche late floured, called A­gricola: whose warke prepareth inuenti­on, tellynge the places, from whens an ar­gumente, for the profe of any mater, maye be taken with lyttell studye. And that les­son with moche and dylygent lernyng, ha­uynge myxte there with none other exer­cyse, wil in the space of halfe a yere be per­fectely kanned.

¶ Immediately after that, the art of Rhe­torike Rhetorik. wolde be semblably taughte, eyther in greke out of Hermogines, or of Quin­tilian in latin, beginnyng at the thyrd boke, and instructynge dylygently the chylde in that parte of rheteryke principally, whi­che concerneth persuation: for as moch as it is most apte for consultation. There can be noo shorter instruction of Rhetoryke, [Page 34] than the treatise that Tulli wrote vnto his sonne, whiche boke is named the partyci­on of rhetorike.

¶ And in good fayth, to speake boldly that I thinke, for hym that nedeth not, or doth not desyre to be an exquisite oratour, the li­tell boke, made by the famous Erasmus Erasmus. (whom al gentil wittꝭ ar bounden to thāke, and supporte) whiche he calleth Copiam uerborum & Rerum, that is to say, plentie of wordes and maters, shall be sufficiente.

¶ Isocrates, concerning the lesson of ora­tours, is euery where wōderful profitable, hauinge almost as many wyse sentences as he hath wordes, and with that is so swete & delectable to rede, that after hym almost all other seme vnsauery and tedyous: and in persuadynge as well a prynce as a pry­uate person to vertue, the two very lyttell and compēdious warkes, wherof he made the one to kyng Nicocles, the other to his frende Demonicus, wolde be perfectly kā ­ned and had in continuall memorye.

¶ Demosthenes and Tulli, by the consent of all lerned men, haue preemynence and souerayntie ouer al oratours: the one reig­nynge in wonderfull eloquence in the pub­lyke weale of the Romaynes, who had the empire and dominion of all the worlde: the other of no lesse estimation in the Citie of [Page] Athenes, whiche of longe tyme was ac­counted the mother of Sapience, and the palaice of musis and all lyberall scyences. Of whiche two oratours may be attayned, not onely eloquence excellent and perfect, but also preceptes of wysedome and gentill maners: with moste commodious exaum­ples of al noble vertues and policie. Wher­fore the mayster in redynge them, must wel obserue and expresse the partes and co­lours of rhetoryke in them conteyned, ac­cordynge to the preceptes of that arte be­fore lerned. The vtilytie that a noble man shal haue by redyng these oratours is, that whan he shall happe to reason in counsayle, or shall speke in a greatte audyence, or to strange ambassadours of great princis: he shall not be constrayned to speake wordes sodayne and dysordred, but shall bestowe them aptely and in theyr places. Wherfore the mooste noble Emperour Octauius is hyghelye commended, for that he neuer Octauius. spake in the Senate, or to the people of Rome, but in an oration prepared and pur­posely made.

¶ Also to prepare the chylde to vndestan­dynge of histories, whiche beinge repleni­shed with the names of countres & townes vnknowen to the reder, do make the histo­rye tedious, orels the lesse pleasaunt, so if [Page 35] they be in any wyse knowen, it encreaseth an inexplicable delectation: It shalbe ther­fore, Cosmo­graphye & the com­moditie therof. and also for refresshynge the wytte, a conuenyent lesson, to beholde the olde ta­bles of Ptholomee, wherin all the worlde is painted, hauinge fyrste some introducti­on in to the sphere, wherof nowe of late be made very good treatises, and more plaine and easy to lerne than was wonte to be. All be it there is none soo good lernynge, as the demontration of cosmographie, by materyall fygures and instrumentes, ha­uynge a good instructour. And surely this lesson is bothe pleasaunt and necessary. For what pleasure is it, in one houre to beholde those realmes, cities, sees, ryuers, & foun­taynes, that vneth in an olde mannes lyfe can not be iournayde? what incredible de­lyte is taken in beholdynge the dyuersities of people, beastis, foules, fishes, tres, frui­tes, and herbes? To knowe the sondry maners and condition of people, and the vari­etie of theyr natures, and that in a warme studye or parler, without peril of the see, or daunger of longe and paynfull iourneyes? I cā not tel, what more pleasure shuld hap­pen to a gentil wyt, than to beholde in his owne house euery thyng that within al the worlde is conteyned.

¶ The cōmoditie therof knewe the great [Page] kinge Alexander, as some writers do re­membre. For he caused the countrayes, whervnto he purposed any enterprise, dili­gently and cunnyngly to be dyscrybed and paynted, that beholdynge the pycture, he mought perceyue, which places were most daungerous, and where he and his hoste moughte haue moste easy and conuenable passage.

¶ Semblably dyd the Romayns in the re­bellion of Fraunce, and the insurrection of their confederates, settyng vp a table opē ­ly, wherin Italy was paynted, to the intēt that the people lokynge in it, shulde reason and consulte, in which places, it were best to resiste or inuade theyr ennemies.

¶ I omyt for length of the matter, to write of Cirus, the great king of Perse, Crassus the Romaine, and diuers other valiant and experte capitaines, which haue loste them selfes & all theyr army by ignorance of this doctryne. Wherfore it maye not be of any wyse man denyed, but that Cosmographie is to all noble men, nat onely pleasaunt but profitable also, and wonderfull necessary.

¶ In the parte of Cosmographie, wher­with historie is mingled, Strabo reigneth, whiche toke his argumente of the diuyne Strabo. poete Homere.

¶ Also Strabo hym selfe (as he sayth) la­boured [Page 36] a great part of Africa and Aegipt, where vndoubtedly be many thynges to be maruailed at.

¶ Solinus wryteth almoste in lyke forme, Solinus. and is more briefe, and hath moch more va­rietie of thynges and matters, and is ther­fore maruaylous delectable. Yet Mela is Wels. moch shorter, and his style (by reason that it is of a more antiquitie) is also more clene and facile. Wherfore he, or Dionisius shall Dionisius. be sufficient,

¶ Cosmographie being substancially per­ceyued, it is than tyme to induce a chylde to the redyng of histories. But fyrst to set Histories and the fourme in redynge of them. him in a feruent courage, the maister in the moste pleasaunt and elegant wyse, expres­synge what incomparable delectation, vti­litic, and commoditie shall happen to em­perours, kynges, pryncis, and all other gentyllmen, by redynge of histories: She­wyng to hym, that Demetrius Phalareus, a man of excellent wysedome and lerninge, and whiche in Athenes had ben long exer­cised in the publike weale, exhorted Ptho­lome king of Aegipt, chiefly aboue al other studies to haūt & embrace histories, & suche other bokes, wherin were cōteined preceptes made to kinges & princis, saying, That in them he shulde rede those thinges, whi­che no man durst reporte vnto his persone.

[Page] ¶ Also Cicero, father of the latine elo­quence, calleth an hystorie the wytnesse of tymes, maystres of lyfe, the lyfe of remem­braunce, of trouthe the lyghte, and messa­ger of antiquitie.

¶ More ouer, the swete Isocrates exhor­teth the kynge Nycoles, whom he instru­cteth, to leaue behynde hym statues and images that shall represente rather the fy­gure and similitude of his mynde, than the features of his body, signifieng therby the remēbrance of his actes writē in hystories.

¶ By semblable aduertisementes shal a no ble harte be trayned to delyte in hystories. And than accordynge to the counsaylle of Quintilian, it is beste that he begynne with Titus Liuius, not onely for his elegancie Titus Liuius. of writinge, whiche floweth in hym lyke a fountayne of swete mylke, but also for as moche as by redynge that auctor, he maye knowe, howe the most noble citie of Rome of a small and pore begynnynge, by prowes and vertue, lyttel and lytel came to the em­pire and dominion of all the worlde.

¶ Also in that Citie he maye beholde the fourme of a publike weale, which if the in­solencie and pryde of Tarquine had not ex cluded kinges out of the citie, had ben the moste noble and perfecte of all other.

¶ Xenophon, beinge bothe a philosopher, Xenophō. [Page 37] and an excellent capitayne, so inuented and ordred his warke, named Paedia Ciri, whi­che maye be interpreted the Chyldehode or disciplyne of Cyrus, that he leaueth to the reders therof an incomparable swete­nes and example of lyuynge, specyally for the conductynge and wel orderyng of ho­stes or armies. And therfore the noble Sci pion, who was called Affricanus, as wel in peace as in warre, was neuer sene without this boke of Xenophon.

¶ With hym may be ioyned Quintus Cur­tius, Quintus Curtius. who writeth the lyfe of kynge Alex­ander elegātly & swetely. In whom may be founden the fygure of an excellent prynce, as he that incomparably excelled all other kynges and emperours, in wisedome, har­dynes, strength, policie, agilite, valiaunte courage, nobilitie, liberalite, and courtaisy. Wherin he was a spectakle or marke for all princis to loke on. Contrary wise, whan he was ones vainquysshed with voluptie and pryde, his tyranny and beastly crueltie ab­horreth all reders. The comparison of the vertues of these two noble princes, equally described by two excellent writers, wel ex­pressed, shall prouoke a gentyll courage, to contende to folowe theyr vertues.

¶ Iulius Cesar and Salust, for theyr com­pendious Cesar Salust. writynge, to the vnderstandinge [Page] wherof is required an exacte and perfecte iugemente, and also for the exquisite order of batayle, and continuynge of the history, without any varietie, wherby the peyne of study shulde be alleuyate, they two wolde be reserued, vntyll he that shall rede them, shall se some experience in semblable mat­ters. And than shall he fynde in them suche plesure and commoditie, as therwith a no­ble and gentyll harte ought to be satisfyed. For in them both it shall seme to a man, that he is present and hereth the counsailes and exhortations of capitaynes, which be cal­led Conciones, and that he seeth the order of hostes, whan they be embatayled, the fyers assaultes and encountringes of both armies, the furyouse rage of that monster called warre. And he shal wene that he he­reth the terrible dintes of sōdry weapons, and ordynaunce of battayle: the conducte and policies of wyse and experte capytay­nes, specyally in the commentaries of Iu­lius Cesar, whiche he made of his exploi­ture in Fraunce and Brytayne, and other countreyes nowe rekned amonge the pro­uynces of Germany. Whiche boke is stu­dyously to be redde of the pryncis of this realme of England and theyr consaylours: consyderynge that therof maye be taken necessarye instructyons concernynge the [Page 38] warres, agayne Irysshe men or Scottes: who be of the same rudenes and wilde dis­positiō, that the Suises and Britons were in the tyme of Cesar.

¶ Semblable vtilitie shal be founden in the historie of Titus Liuius, in his thyrde De­cades, where he writeth of the battayles, that the Romaynes had with Anniball and the Charthaginensis.

¶ Also there be diuers orations, as wel in all the bokes of the sayde auctors, as in the historie of Cornelyus Tacitus, whiche be Cornelius Tacitus. very delectable, and for consayles very ex­pedient to be had in memory.

¶ And in good faith I haue oftē thought, that the consultations and orations, writen by Tacitus, do import a maieste, with a cō ­pendious eloquence therin conteyned.

¶ In the lerninge of these autors, a yonge gentyllmanne shall be taughte to note and marke, not onely the ordre and elegancie, in declaration of the hystorie, but also the occasion of the warres, the counsailes and preparations on eyther parte, the estyma­tion of the capitaines, the maner and forme of theyr gouernaunce, the continuance of the battaylle, the fortune and successe of the holle affayres. Semblably out of the warres in other dayely affayres, the astate of the publike weale, if it be prosperous or [Page] in decaye, what is the very occasion of the one or of the other, the forme and maner of the go uernaunce ther of, the good and y­uell qualities of theym that be rulers, the cōmodites and good sequele of vertue, the dyscommodities, and yuel conclusion of vi­cious lycence.

¶ Surely if a noble man do thus seryously and diligētly rede histories, I dare affirme, there is no study or science for him of equal cōmoditie and pleasure, hauynge regarde to euery tyme and age.

¶ By the tyme that the chylde doth come to .xvii. yeres of age, to the intent his cou­rage Morall philoso­phye▪ be brydled with reason, it were nede­full to rede vnto hym some warkes of phi­losophy, specially that parte that maye en­forme hym vnto vertuous maners, whiche parte of philosophy is called moral. Wher­fore there wold be redde to hym for an in­troductiō, two the first bokes of the warke of Aristotle, called Ethicae, wherin is con­teyned the defynitions and propre sygnifi­cations of euery vertue, and that to be ler­ned in Greke: for the translations that we yet haue, be but a rude and grosse shadowe of the eloquēce and wysdome of Aristotle.

¶ Forth with wolde folowe the warke of Cicero, called in latine De officijs, where­vnto Tullies offices. yet is no propre englisshe worde to be [Page 39] gyuen, but to prouyde for it some maner of exposition, it maye be sayde in this fourme, Of the duetyes and maners apperteynyng to men.

¶ But aboue al other, the warkes of Pla­to Plato. wold be most studiously redde, whan the iugement of a man is come to perfectyon, and by the other studies is instructed in the fourme of speakynge that philosophers v­sed. Lorde god, what incomparable swet­nesse of wordes and matter shal he fynde in the sayd warkes of Plato & Cicero, wher­in is ioyned grauitie with delectatiō, excel­lent wysedome with diuine eloquence, ab­solute vertue with pleasure incredible, and euery place is so infarced with profytable counsayle, ioyned with honestie, that those thre bokes be almoste sufficiente to make a perfecte and excellent gouernour.

¶ The prouerbes of Salomom, with the bokes of Ecclesiastes and Ecclesiasticus, be very good lessons.

¶ All the historiall partes of the bible, be ryght necessary for to be redde of a noble man, after that he is mature in yeres. And the residue (with the newe testament) is to be reuerently touched, as a celestiall iewel or relyke, hauynge the chiefe interpretour of those bokes, trewe and constante faith, and dredefully to set handes theron, remē ­brynge [Page] that Oza, for putting his hande to the holy shryne, that was called Archafederis, whan it was broughte by kynge Dauid from the citie of Gaba, though it were wa­uerynge and in daunger to fall, yet was he stryken of god, and fell deed immediately.

¶ It wolde not be forgoten, that the lytell boke of the moste excellent doctour Eras­mus Roter. (which he wrote to Charles, nowe beinge emperour, and than prince of Castile) whiche boke is intituled, the insti­tution of a christen prince, wolde be as fa­miliare alway with gentylmen, at al tymes and in euery age, as was Homere with the great kynge Alexander, or Xenophō with Scipio. For as all men may iuge, that haue red the warke of Erasmus, there was ne­uer Erasmus of the institution of a christen prince. boke written in latin, that in so lyttell a portion, conteyned of sentence, eloquence, and vertuous exhortation, a more compen­dious aboundaunce.

¶ And here I make an ende of the lerning and study, wherby noble menne maye at­tayne to be worthy to haue auctorytie in a publyke weale.

¶ Alwaye I shal exhorte tutours and go­uernours of noble chyldren, that they suffre them not, to vse ingourgytations of meate or drinke, ne to slepe moche, that is to say, aboue .viii. houres at the most. For [Page 40] vndoubtedly, both repletion and superflu­ous slepe be capitall enemies to studye, as they be semblably to helth of body & soule.

¶ Aulus Gellius sayth, that childrē, if they vse to eate and slepe ouer moche, be made therwith dul to lerne. And we se, that ther of slownesse is takē, and the childrens per­sonages do waxe vncomly, and growe lesse in stature. Galen wyll not permytte, that pure wyne, without alaye of water, shulde in any wyse be gyuen to chyldren, for as moch as it humecteth the body, or maketh it moyster and hotter, than is conueniente: also it fylleth the heed with fume, in theym specially, whiche be lyke, as chyldren of hote and moyst temperature. These be wel nyghe the wordes of the noble Galen.

Why gentylmen in this present tyme, be not equall in doctryne to the aunci­ent noble men. Capitulo. xii.

NOwe wyll I some what de­clare of the chiefe causes, why in our time noble mē be not as excellēt in lerning, as they were in olde time amōg the Romaynes and grekes. Surely as I haue diligently marked in day ly experiēce, the principal causes be these. [Page] The pride, auarice, and negligence of pa­rentes, and the lacke or fewenes of suffici­ent maysters or teachers.

¶ As I sayde, Pride is the fyrste cause of this inconuenience. For of those persones be some, which without shame dare affirme, that to a great gentylman, it is a notable reproche, to be well lerned, and to be cal­led a great clerke: whiche name they ac­counte to be of so base estimation, that they neuer haue it in theyr mouthes, but whan they speake any thyng in derision. Whiche perchaunce they wolde not do, if they had ones layser to rede our owne cronycle of England, where they shal fynde, that kyng Henry beau clerk kynge of Englande. Henry the fyrst, sonne of Wylliam conque­rour, and one of the most noble princis that euer reygned in this realme, was openly called Henry beau clerke, whiche is in en­glyshe, fayre clerke, and is yet at this daye so named. And wheder that name be to his honour, or to his reproche, let them iuge that do rede and compare his lyfe with his two bretherne, Wylliam, called Rouse, and Robert le courtoyse, they both not hauyng semblable lernynge with the sayde Henry, the one for his dissolute lyuynge and tiran­ny, beynge hated of al his nobles and peo­ple, fynally was sodeynely slayne by the shotte of an arrowe, as he was huntinge in [Page 41] a forest, which to make larger, and to giue his deere more libertie, dyd cause the hou­ses of .lii. parisshes to be pulled downe, the people to be expelled, and all beinge deso­late, to be tourned into deserte, and made onely pasture for beastis sauage. Which he wolde neuer haue done, if he had so moche delyted in good lernynge, as dyd his bro­ther. The other brother, Robert le Cur­toyse, beynge duke of Normandy, and the eldest sonne of Wylliam Conquer our, all be it that he was a manne of moche prowesse, and right expert in martial affayres, wher­fore he was electe before Godfray of Bo­loigne, to haue ben kynge of Hierusalem: yet not with standynge, whan he inuaded this realme with sondry puissaunt armies, also dyuers noble menne aydynge hym, his noble brother Henry beau clerke, more by wysedome than power, also by lernyng, addynge policie to vertue and courage, of­ten tymes vaynquysshed hym, and dyd put hym to flyght. And after sondry victories, finally toke hym and kepte hym in pryson, hauyng none other meanes to kepe his re­alme in tranquillitie.

¶ It was for no rebuke, but for an excel­lent honour, that the emperour Antonine was surnamed philosopher, for by his most noble example of lyuinge and industrye in­comparable, [Page] he durynge al the tyme of his reygne, kept the publike weale of the Ro­maynes in suche a perfecte astate, that by his actis he cōfyrmed the saying of Plato, That blessed is that publike weale, wherin either philosophers do reygne, or els kin­ges be in phylosophy studiouse.

¶ These persons, that so moche contemne lernynge, that they wolde that gentilmens chyldren shulde haue no parte or very lyt­tell therof, but rather shulde spende theyr youth alway (I saye not onely in huntynge and haukynge, whiche moderately vsed as solaces ought to be, I intende not to dys­prayse) but in those ydle pastymes, which for the vice that is therin, the commaunde­ment of the prynce, and the vniuersall con­sente of the people, expressed in statutes & lawes, do prohibite, I meane playenge at dyce & other games named vnleful. These personnes I saye, I wolde shulde remem­bre, orelles nowe lerne, if they neuer elles harde it, that the noble Philyp, kynge of Macedonia, who subdued al Grece, aboue all the good fortunes that euer he hadde, moste reioysed, that his sonne Alexander was borne in the tyme that Aristotle the philosopher flourysshed, by whose instru­ction he mought attayne to most excellent lernynge.

[Page 42] ¶ Also the same Alexaunder often tymes sayde, That he was equally as moch boū ­den to Aristotle, as to his father king Phi­lip: for of his father he receyued lyfe, but of Aristotle he receyued the waye to lyue nobly.

¶ Who dyspraysed Epaminondas, the most valyaunt capitayne of Thebanes, for that he was excellentely lerned and a greatte phylosopher?

¶ Who euer discōmēded Iulius Cesar for that he was a noble oratour, and nexte to Tully in the eloquence of the latin tongue, excelled all other?

¶ Who euer reproued the emperour Ha­driane, for that he was so exquisitly lerned, not onely in greke and latine, but also in all sciences liberal, that openly at Athenes, in the vniuersal assembly of the grettest cler­kes of the worlde, he by a longe tyme dys­puted with phylosophers and Rheroricy­ens, whiche were estemed most excellent: and by the iugemente of them that were presente, had the palme or rewarde of vy­ctorie? And yet by the gouernance of that noble ēperour, not only the publike weale florysshed, but also dyuers rebellions were suppressed, and the maiestie of the empyre hugely increased.

¶ Was it any reproche to the noble Ger­manicus [Page] (who by the assignemēt of Augu­stus shulde haue succeded Tiberius in the empyre, if traytorous enuy had not in his flourysshynge youth birefte hym his lyfe) that he was equal to the most noble poetis of his tyme: and to the increase of his ho­nour and most worthy commendation, his image was sette vp at Rome in the habyte that poetis at those dayes vsed?

¶ Fynally, howe moche excellent lerning commendeth, and not dysprayseth nobily­tie, it shall playnely appere vnto them that do rede the lifes of Alexander, called Se­uerus, Tacitus, Probus, Aurelius, Con­stantyne, Theodosius, and Charles the great, surnamed Charlemayne, all beynge emperours: and do compare them with o­ther, whiche lacked or had not soo moche of doctrine.

¶ Ueryly they be ferre from good reason in myne opinyon, whiche couayte to haue theyr chyldren goodly in stature, delyuer, well syngynge: wherin trees, beastis, fys­shes, and byrdes, be not onely with theym equall, but also ferre do excede them, And connynge, wherby onely man excelleth all other creatures in erthe, they reiecte and accoumpte vnworthy to be in theyr chyl­dren. What vnkind appetite were it, to de­syre to be father rather of a pece of fleshe, [Page 43] that can only moue and fele, than of a child, that shulde haue the perfecte fourme of a man? what so perfectely expresseth a man, as doctrine?

¶ Diogines the phylosopher, seynge one without lernynge sytte on a stone, sayde to them that were with hym, Beholde where one stone sytteth on an other. Whiche wor­des wel consydered and tried, shal appere, to conteyne in them wonderfull matter, for the approbation of doctryne.

The seconde and thyrde decay of lerninge amonge gentylmen. Cap. xiii.

THe seconde occasion, wher­fore gentyll mens chyldren seldome haue sufficiente ler­nyng, is auarice. For where theyr parentes wyll not ad­uenture, to sende them farre out of theyr propre countreyes, partly for feare of dethe, whiche perchance dare not approche them at home with theyr father, partely for expence of money, whiche they suppose wold be lesse in theyr own houses, or in a vyllage with some of theyr tenantes or frendes, hauynge seldome any regarde to the teacher, whether he be well lerned or ignorant. For if they hire a schole may­ster [Page] to teche in theyr houses, they chiefely enquire, with howe smal a salary he wyl be contented, and neuer doo inserche, howe moche good lernynge he hath, and howe amonge well lerned men, he is therin este­med: vsynge therin lesse dilygence than in takynge seruantes, whose seruice is of mo­che lesse importaunce, and to a good schole mayster, is not in profyte to be compared.

¶ A gentyllman, er he take a cooke in his seruice, wyll fyrste examine him diligently, howe many sortes of meates, potages, and sauces he can perfectely make, and howe well he can season them: that they maye be both pleasant and nourishynge. Yea, and if it be but a fauconer, he wyll scrupulusly en­quire, what skyll he hath in fedynge, cal­led dyete, and kepyng of his hauke from al syckenes: also howe he can reclaime her & prepare her to flight. And to suche a cooke or fauconer, whom he fyndeth experte, he spareth not to gyue moche wages, with o­ther bounteous rewardes. But of a schole maister, to whom he wyll cōmytte his child to be fedde with lernyng, and instructed in vertue, whose lyfe shall be the princypall monument of his name and honour, he ne­uer maketh further enquirie, but where he may haue a schole maister, and with howe lytel charge. And if one perchance be foū ­den [Page 44] well lerned, whiche wyll not take pei­nes to teache without great salary: he than speketh nothynge more, or els sayth, what shall so moche wages be gyuen to a schole mayster, whiche wolde kepe me two ser­uantes? To whom may be sayd these wor­des, that by his sonne, beynge well lerned, he shall receyue more commoditie and also worshyp, than by the seruyce of a hundred cookes and fauconers.

¶ The thyrde cause of this hyndrance, is negligence of parentes: which I note spe­cially in this poynte. There haue ben dy­uers, as well meane gentyll men as of the nobilitie, whiche delytynge to haue theyr sonnes excellent in lernynge, haue prouy­ded for them connynge maisters, who sub­stancially haue taught them grammer, and very wel instructed them, to speake latin e­legantly: wherof the parentes haue taken moch delectation, but whan they haue had of grammer sufficient, and be comen to the aege of .xiiii. yeres, and do approche or drawe towarde the astate of man, whiche aege is called mature or rype (wherin not onely the saide lernynge continued by mo­che experyence shall be perfectely dyge­sted and confyrmed in perpetuall remem­brance, but also more seriouse lernyng con­teyned in other lyberall sciences, and also [Page] philosophy wolde than be lerned) the pa­rentes, this thynge nothynge regardinge, but beinge suffised, that theyr chyldren can onely speke latine proprely, or make verses without matter or sentence: they from thēs forthe do suffre theym to lyue in idelnes, or elles puttynge them to seruyce, do as it were banishe them from al vertuous study, and from excercise of that, whiche they be fore lerned. So that we maye beholde dy­uers yonge gentyll menne, whiche in theyr infancie and chyldehod, were wondred at for theyr aptnes to lernynge, and prompte speakynge of elegant latine, nowe beynge men,: haue not onely forgotten theyr con­gruite (as the commune worde is) and vn­neth can speake one hole sentence in trewe latine, but that wars is, haue all lernynge in derision, and in skorne therof, wil of wā ­tonnesse speake the moste barberously that they can imagine.

¶ Nowe some mā wil require me to shewe myne opinion, if it be necessary, that gentil men shulde, after the aege of .xiiii. yeres, continue in study. To be plaine and trewe, therin I dare affirme, that if the elegante Eloquēce cōmended speakynge of latine be not added to other doctrine, lytel fruite may come of the tong, sins latine is but a naturall speche, and the fruite of speche is wyse sentence, which is [Page 45] gathered and made of sondry lernynges. And he that hath nothyng but langage on­ly, maye be no more praysed than a popin­iay, a pye, or a stare, whan they speake feat­ly. There be many nowe a days in famouse scholes and vniuersities, whiche be so mo­che gyuen to the study of tonges only, that whan they write epistels, they seme to the reder, that lyke to a trumpet they make a soune without any purpose, where vnto mē herken more for the noyse than for any de­lectation that therby is meued. Wherfore they be moche abused, that suppose elo­quence to be onely in wordes or colours of Rhetorike. For as Tully sayth, what is so furiouse or mad a thynge, as a vayne soune of wordes of the best sort and most ornate, conteyninge neither conning nor sentence.

¶ Undoubtedly, very eloquence is in eue­ry what elo­quence is. tonge where any matter or acte done or to be done is expressed in wordes clene, pro pise, ornate, and comely, wherof sentencis be so aptly compact, that they by a vertue inexplicable, do drawe vnto them the myn­des and consent of the herers, being ther­with eyther persuaded, meued, or to dele­ctation induced.

¶ Also euery man is not an oratour, that can write an epistle or a flatterynge oration in latin, wherof the laste (as god helpe me) [Page] is to moche vsed. For a ryght oratour may not be without a moche better furniture. Tulli sayth, that to hym belongeth the ex­ply catynge or vnfoldinge of sentence, with a great estimation, in gyuynge counsaylle concernyng matters of great importaunce: also to hym apperteyneth the sterynge and quickenynge of people, languysshynge or dyspeyryng, and to moderate them that be rashe and vnbrydled. Wherfore noble au­ctours do affyrme, that in the fyrste infancy of the worlde, men wandrynge lyke beastis in woddes and on mountaynes, regarding neyther the religion due vnto god, nor the office perteynynge vnto man, ordered all thynge by bodyly strength: vntyl Mercu­rius (as Plato supposeth) or somme other man holpen by sapience, and eloquence, by some apt or propre oration, assembled them to gether, and perswaded to theym, what commoditie was in mutual couersation and honest maners.

¶ But yet Cornelius Tacitus descrybeth Corn. Ta. de orat. an oratour, to be of more excellēt qualites, sayinge, An oratour is he, that can or may speke or reason in euery question sufficiēt­ly, elegantly, and to perswade proprely, ac­cordynge to the dygnitie of the thing that is spoken of, the oportunitie of tyme, and pleasure of them that be herers.

[Page 46] ¶ Tully before hym affyrmed, that a man may not be an oratour, heaped with preise, but if he haue gotten the knowlege of all thinges, and artes of greatest importance. And howe shall an oratour speake of that thynge, that he hath not lerned? And by­cause there maye be nothynge, but it maye happen to come in preyse or dysprayse, in consultation or iugemente, in accusation or defence: therfore an oratour, by others in­struction perfectly furnyshed, maye in eue­ry matter and lernynge, commende or dys­prayse, exhorte or dissuade, accuse or defēd eloquently, as occasion hapneth. Wherfore in as moche as in an oratour is required to be a heape of all maner of lernynge, whi­che of some is called the worlde of science, of other the circle of doctrine, whiche is in one worde of Greeke ENCYCLOPEDIA, therfore at this daye, maye be founden but a very fewe oratours. For they that come in message from pryncis, be for ho­nour named nowe oratours, if they be in a­ny degre of worshyppe: onely poore men, hauynge equall or more of lernynge, beyng called messagers.

¶ Also they, which only teache rhetorike (whiche is the scyence, wherby is taughte an artisiciall fourme of spekyng, wherin is the power to perswade, moue, and delyte, [Page] or by that science onely do speake or write without any admynistratyon of other scy­ences) ought to be named rhetoriciens, de clamatours, artificiall speakers (named in Greke Logodedali) or any other name than oratours.

¶ Semblably they that make verses, ex­pressynge Poetes. therby none other lernynge, but the crafte of versifienge, be not of auncient writers named poetes, but only called ver­sifyers. For the name of a Poete (wherat nowe, specially in this realme, men haue suche indignation, that they vse only poetes and poetry in the contempte of eloquence) was in auncient tyme in highe estymation: in so moche that all wysedome was suppo­sed to be therin included. And poetry was the first philosophy that euer was knowen, wherby men from theyr chyldhode were brought to the reason, how to liue wel, ler­nynge therby not onely maners and natu­rall affections, but also the wonderful war­kes of nature, myxtyng serious mater with thynges that were pleasaunt: as it shall be manyfeste to them that shall be so fortunate to rede the noble warkes of Plato and A­ristotle: wherin he shall fynde the auctori­tie of poetes frequentely alleged: ye and that more is, In poetis was supposed to be science misticall and inspired: and therfore [Page 47] in latyne they were called VATES, whi­che worde signifieth as moche as prophe­tes. And therfore Tulli in his Tusculane Ci. Tusc. quest. [...]. questions supposeth, that a poete can not abundantly expresse verses sufficiente and complete, or that his eloquence may flowe without labour, wordes well sounyng and plentuouse, without celestial instinciō, whi­che is also by Plato ratified.

¶ But sens we be now occupied in the de­fence of Poetes, it shall not be incongru­ent to our matter, to shewe what profytte maye be taken by the dyligente redynge of auncient poetes: contrary to the false opi­nion that nowe rayneth, of them that sup­pose, that in the warkes of poetes is con­teyned nothynge but baudry (such is their foule word of reproche) and vnprofytable leasynges. But fyrst I wyl interprete some verses of Horace, wherin he expresseth the offyce of poetes, and after wyl I resorte to a more playne demonstration of some wise­domes and counsaylles conteyned in some verses of poetes. Horace in his seconde boke of epistles, sayth in this wyse, or mo­che lyke,

¶ But they, which be ignorant in poetes, wyll perchance obiecte as theyr maner is, agaynst these verses, sayinge, that in The­rēce and other, that were writers of come­dies, Ouide, Catullus, Martialis, and all that route of lasciuious poetes, that wrate epistles and ditties of loue, some called in latin Elegiae, some Epigrāmata, is nothing conteyned, but incitation to lechery.

¶ Fyrste comedies, whiche they suppose to be a doctrinall of rybaudry, they be vn­doutedly Comedies a picture, or as it were a mirrour of mans lyfe: wherin yuell is not taughte, but dyscouered, to the intent that men, be­holding the promptnes of youth vnto vice, the snares of har lottis and baudes, layd for yonge myndes, the disceipt of seruauntes, the chaunces of fortune, contrary to mens expectation, they beynge therof warned, maye prepare them selfe to resyste and pre­uente occasion. Semblably remembrynge the wysedomes, aduertysementes, coun­sayīes, dissuasyon from vice and other pro­fytable sentences, moste eloquently and fa­miliarly shewed in those comedyes, Un­doubtedly there shall be no lyttel fruite out [Page 48] of them gathered. And if the vices in them expressed, shulde be cause, that myndes of the reders shuld be corrupted: than by the same argumente not onely enterludes in englyshe but also sermones, wherin some vyce is declared, shulde be to the behol­ders and herers lyke occasion to encreace sinners. And that by comedies, good coū ­saylle is ministred: it appereth by the sen­tence of Parmeno, in the seconde comedy of Therence.

¶ There be many mo wordes spoken, whiche I purposelye omytte to translate, not with standynge the substaunce of the hole sentence is herein comprised. But nowe to come to other poetes. what may be better sayde, thanne is witten by Plautus in his fyrste comedie?

¶ Also Ouidius, that semeth to be most of al poetes lasciuious, in his mooste wanton bokes, hath ryghte commendable and no­ble sentēces: as for proufe therof, I wil re­cyte some that I haue taken at aduenture.

¶ Martialis, whiche for his dissolute wry­ting, is most seldome red of men of moche grauitie, hath not withstanding many com­mendable sentences and ryght wyse coun­sailes, as among diuers, I wil reherce one, whiche is first come to my remembraunce.

¶ I could recite a great nombre of sembla­ble good sentences, out of these and other wanton poetes, whiche in latine do expres them incomparably, with more grace and [Page 49] delectation to the reder, than our englishe tonge may yet comprehend. Wherfore sens good and wyse mater maye be pycked out of these poetes, it were no reason for some lyttel mater, that is in theyr verses, to abā ­done therfore all theyr warkes, noo more than it were to forbeare or prohibite a man to come into a fayre gardeyne, lest the re­dolēt sauours of swete herbes and floures, shall meue hym to wanton courage, or leste in gadringe good and holsome herbes, he may happen to be stunge with a nettle. No wyse man entreth into a gardeyne, but he sone espieth good herbes from nettils, and treadeth the nettils vnder his feete, whiles he gadreth good herbes: wherby he ta­keth no damage. Or if he be stungen, he maketh lyght of it, and shortly forgetteth it.

Semblably if he do rede wanton mattier, mixte with wisedome, he putteth the worst vnder fote, and sorteth out the beste: or if his courage be stered or prouoked, he re­membreth the lyttel pleasure and great de­trimente that shulde ensue of it: and with­drawynge his mynde to some other study or exercise, shortely forgetteth it.

¶ And therfore among the iewes though it were prohibyte to chyldren, vntyll they came to rype yeres, to rede the bookes of Genesis, of the iuges, Cantica Canticorum, [Page] and some parte of the booke of Ezechiel the prophete, For that in theym was con­teyned some matter, whiche moughte hap­pen to incense the yonge mynde, wherin were sparkes of carnall concupiscence, yet after certayne yeres of mennes aeges, it was lefull for euery man to rede and dily­gently studye those warkes. So al though I approue not the lesson of wanton poetes, to be taughte vnto al chyldren: yet thinke I conueniente and necessary, that whanne the mynde is become constaunte, and cou­rage is asswaged, or that chyldren of theyr naturall dysposition be shamefaste and con­tinente, none aunciente poete wolde be ex­cluded frome the lesson of suche one, as desyreth to come to the perfecty on of wisedome.

¶ But in defendyng of oratours and poe­tes, I had almost forgotten where I was. Ueryly there maye no man be an excellent poete, nor oratour, vnlesse he haue parte of all other doctrine, specially of noble philo­sophy. And to saye the trouthe, no man can apprehende the very delectation, that is in the lesson of noble poetes, vnlesse he haue redde very moche, and in dyuers autours of dyuers lernynges. Wherfore, as I late sayde, to the augmentation of vnderstan­dynge, called in latine Intellectus et mens, [Page 50] is required to be moche redynge and vigi­lante studye in euery scyence, specially of that part of philosophy named moral, whi­che instructeth menne in vertue and poly­tike gouernance. Also no noble autour, specially of them that wrate in greke or latine before .xii. C. yeres passed, is not for any cause to be omytted. For therin I am of Quintilians opinion, that there is fewe or none auncyente warke, that yeldeth not some fruite or commoditie to the diligente reders. And it is a very grosse or obstinate wytte, that by redyng moche, is not some what amended.

¶ Concernynge the election of other au­tours, to be redde, I haue (as I trust) de­clared sufficiently my conceipte and opini­on, in the x. and .xi. chapiters.

¶ Fynally, like as a delycate tree, that co­meth of a kernell, whiche as sone as it bur­geneth out leues, if it be plucked vppe, or it be sufficiently rooted, and layde in a cor­ner, becometh drye or rotten, and no fruite cometh of it: if it be remoued and sette in an other ayre or erthe, whiche is of con­trary qualities where it was before, it ei­ther sēblably dieth, or beareth no fruite, or els the fruite that commeth of it, leseth his verdure and tast, and fynally his estimatiō. So the pure and excellent lerning, wherof [Page] I haue spoken, thoughe it be sowen in a chylde neuer so tymely, and spryngeth and burgeneth neuer so pleasauntly, if before it take a depe rote in the minde of the childe, it be laide a side, eyther by to moch solace, or continuall attendaunce in seruice, or els is translated to an other study, which is of a more grosse or vnplesaunt qualitie, before it be confirmed or stablyshed by often re­dynge or dilygent exercise, in conclusion it vanisheth and cometh to nothynge. Wher­fore let men replie as they lyst, in myne o­pinion, men be wonderfully disceiued nowe a days (I dare not say with the persuasion of auarice) that doo put theyr chyldren at the age of xiiii. or .xv. yeres, to the study of the lawes of the realme of Englande. I wil shewe them reasonable causes why, if they wil paciently here me, informed partely by myne owne experience.

Howe the studentes in the lawes of this re­alme, maye take excellent commoditie by the lessons of sōdry doctrines. ca. xiiii.

IT maye not be denyed, but that al lawes be founded on the depest part of reason, and as I suppose, no one lawe so moche as our owne: and the deper men do inue­stigate reasō, the more difficile or hard must nedes be the studye. Also that reuerende [Page 51] study is inuolued in so barbar ouse a lāgage, that it is not only voide of al eloquence, but also beynge seperate from the exercyse of our lawe onely, it serueth to no commodi­tie or necessary purpose, no man vnderstan­dinge it, but they, whiche haue studyed the lawes. Than chyldrē at .xiiii. or .xv. yeres olde, in whiche tyme spryngeth courage, set al in pleasure, and plesure is in nothing, that is not facile or elegant, beyng brought to the moste difficulte and graue lernynge, whiche hath nothynge illecebrouse or deli­cate to tickyll theyr tender wittes, and al­lure them to studye (onles it be lucre, whi­che a gentyl wyt littell estemeth) the more parte vainquysshed with tediousenesse, ey­ther do abandone the lawes, and vnwares to theyr frendes, do gyue them to gamyng, and other (as I mought say) idle businesse, nowe called pastimes, orels if they be in a­ny wyse therto constrayned, they apprehē ­dynge a piece therof, as if they being long in a darke dungeon, onely dydde se by the lyght of a candell. Than if after .xx. or .xxx. yeres studie, they happen to come amonge wyse men, herynge matters commened of, concernynge a publyke weale, or outward affayres betwene princis, they noo lesse be astonyed, than if they commynge out of a darke house at none dayes, were sodeynly [Page] strikē in the eies with a bright sōne beame. But I speake not this in reproch of lawy­ers, for I knowe dyuers of them, which in consultation wyll make a ryght vehemente raison: and so do some other, whiche haue neyther lawe nor other lernynge, and if they were fournyshed with excellente do­ctrine, theyr reason shuld be the more sub­stanciall and certayne.

¶ There be some also, which by theyr frē ­des, be coarted to aplye the studye of the lawe only, and for lacke of plētuous exhy­bition be let of theyr liberte, wherfore they can not resorte vnto pastyme. These of all other be moste cast away, for nature repug nyng, they vnneth tast any thyng that may be profitable, and also theyr courage is so mortified (which yet by solace perchaunce mought be made quicke or apte to some o­ther studye or laudable exercise) that they liue euer after out of all estimation. Wher­fore Tulli saith, we shuld so indeuour our selfes, that we striue not with the vnyuer­sal nature of man, but that being conserued let vs folowe our owne propre natures, for though there be studies of more grauytie and importaunce, yet ought we to regarde the studies, wherto we be, by our own na­ture, inclined. And that this sentēce is true, we haue dayely experience, in this realme [Page 52] specially. For howe many menne be there, whose sonnes in chyldehode are aptly dis­posed by nature to paynt, kerue, or graue, to embrowder, or do other lyke thynges, wherin is any arte commendable concer­nyng inuention, which as sone as they espy it, be there with dyspleased, and forth with byndeth theym apprentyses to taylours, weyuers, towkers, and some tyme to cob­lers? whiche hath ben the inestimable losse of manye good wyttes, and hath caused, that in the sayde artes, englysshemen be in­feryours to all other people, and be con­strayned, if we wyll haue any thynge well paynted, kerued, or embroudred, to leaue our owne countray menne, and resorte vn­to strangers: but more of this shal I speke in the nexte volume. But to resorte vnto lawyers.

¶ I thinke verily, if childrē were brought vp, as I haue written, and continually were reteined in the right study of very philosophy, vntil they passed the age of .xxi. yeres, and thā set to the lawes of this realme (be­ing ones brought to a more certain & com­pendious study, and eyther in englishe, la­tine, or good french, written in a more clene and elegant stile) vndoubtedly they shulde become menne of so excellente wysedome, that throughoute all the worlde shulde be [Page] founden in no commune weale more noble counsaylours, our lawes not only compre­hendynge moste excellent reasons, but also beyng gathered & compacte (as I mought saye) of the pure meale or floure, sisted out of the best lawes in all other countreys, as some what I do intende to proue euidently in the nexte volume, wherin I wyll rendre mine office or duetie, to that honorable stu­dy, wherby my father was aduaunced to a iuge, and also I my selfe haue attayned no lyttell commoditie.

¶ I suppose, there be dyuers men wil say, that the swetnesse that is conteyned in elo­quence, & the multitude of doctrines, shuld vtterly withdrawe the myndes of yonge men from the more necessary studye of the lawes of this realme. To them wyl I make a briefe answere, but trewe it shall be, and I trust sufficient to wise men. In the great multitude of yonge men, whiche alway wil repayre, and the lawe beinge ones brought in to a more certayne and perfect langage, wyll also increase in the reuerent studye of the lawe: vndoughtedly there shall neuer lacke, but some by nature inclyned, dyuers by desire of sōdry doctrines, many for hope of lucre or some other aduauncement, wyll effectually study the lawes, ne wyll be ther from withdrawen by any other lesson, whi­che [Page 53] is more eloquent. Example we haue, at this present tyme, of dyuers excellent ler­ned men bothe in the lawes ciuile and al­so in phisike, whiche beynge exactly studi­ed in all partes of eloquence, bothe in the Greke tonge and latine, haue not withstandynge red and pervsed the great fardelles and trusses of the most barbarouse autours stuffed with innumerable gloses: wherby the most necessary doctrines of lawe & phi­syke be mynced into fragmentes, and in all wyse mens opinions, do perceyue no lesse in the sayd lerninges, than they, which ne­uer knew eloquence, or neuer tasted other but the fecis or dragges of the sayde noble doctrines. And as for the multitude of sci­ences can not indamage any student, but if he be meued to study the lawe by any of the sayde motions, by me before touched, he shal rather increse therin than be hindred, and that shall appere manyfestely to them, that eyther wyll gyue credence to my re­porte, or elles wyl rede the warkes that I wyll alledge, whiche if they vnderstande not, to desyre some lerned man by interpre­tinge to cause them perceyue it. And firste I wyll begynne at oratours, who beare the principall tytle of eloquence.

¶ It is to be remēbred, that in the lernyng The art of retorike in mootinge. of the lawes of this realme, there is at this [Page] day an exercise, wherin is a maner of a sha­dowe or figure of the auncient rhetorike. I meane the pleading vsed in courte & Chan­cery called motes. Where fyrst a case is ap­poynted to be moted by certayne yong mē, conteinynge some doubtefull controuersy, which is in stede of the hede of a declama­tion called thema, the case beinge knowen, they which be appoynted to mote, do exa­myne the case, and inuestygate what they therin can espie, whiche maye make a con­tention, wherof maye ryse a question to be argued, and that of Tulli is called constitu­tio, & of Quintilian status causae. Also they consider what plees on euery parte ought to be made, and howe the case may be rea­soned. Whiche is the fyrste parte of Rhe­torike, named Inuention. Than appoynte they, howe many plees maye be made for euery parte, and in what formalytie they shulde be sette, Whiche is the seconde part of Rhetoryke, called disposition, wherin they do moche approche vnto Rhetorike. Than gather they al in to perfecte remem­braunce, in suche order as it oughte to be pleaded, whiche is the parte of Rhetorike named memorie. But for as moche as the tonge, wherin it is spoken, is barberouse, and the stering of affectiōs of the minde in this realme was neuer vsed: therfore there [Page 54] lacketh Eloquution, and Pronunciatiō, two the pryncipall partes of Rhetorike. Not­withstandyng some lawyers, if they be wel reteyned, wyll in a meane cause pronounce right vehemētly. More ouer, there semeth to be in the sayd pledinges, certaine partes of an oration, that is to say, for Narrations, Partitions, Confirmations, and Confutatiōs, named of some Reprehentions, They haue Declarations, Barres, Replications, and Re­ioyndres, only they lacke pleasaunt fourme of begynnynge, called in latine Exordium: nor it maketh therof no great matter, they that haue studied rhetorike, shall perceyue what I meane. Also in arguynge theyr ca­ses, in myne opinion, they lacke very lytell of the hole art: for therin they do diligent­ly obserue the rules of Confirmation and Confutatiō, wherin resteth proufe and dis­proufe: hauing almost al the places, wherof they shall fetche theyr reasons, called of oratours loci cōmunes, whiche I omyt to name, fearynge to be to longe in this mat­ter. And verily I suppose, if there mought ones happen some man, hauing an excellēt wyt, to be brought vp in suche fourme, as I haue hytherto written, and may also be ex­actely or depely lerned in the arte of an o­ratour, and also in the lawes of this re­alme, the prynce so wyllynge and therto [Page] assistinge, vndoubtedly it shuld not be im­possible for hym, to brynge the pleadynge and resonynge of the lawe, to the auncient fourme of noble oratours: and the lawes and exercise therof, beinge in pure latin or doulce frenche, fewe men in consultations, shuld (in myne opinion) compare with our lawyars, by this meanes beyng brought to be perfect oratours, as in whom shuld than be founden the sharpe wyttes of logitians, the graue sentences of philosophers, the elegancie of poetes, the memory of ciuili­ans, the voice and gesture of them that can pronounce comedies: which is al that Tul­li, in the person of the moste eloquente man Ci. de oratore. li. i. Marcus Antonius, coulde require to be in an oratour.

¶ But now to cōclude mine assertiō. What let was eloquence to the study of the lawe in Quintus Sceuola, whiche beyng an ex­cellent autour in the lawes ciuile, was cal­led of al lawiars most eloquente? Or howe moch was eloquence mynished by knowe­lege of the lawes in Crassus, whiche was called of all eloquent men the best lawyar? ¶ Also Seruus Sulpitius, in his tyme one of the most noble oratours, next vnto Tul­li, was not so let by eloquence, but that on the ciuile lawes he made notable commen­tes, and many noble warkes by all lawyers [Page 55] approued. Who redeth the texte of Ciuile, called Pandectes or Digestes, and hath a­ny cōmendable iugemēt in the latin tonge, but he wil affirme, that Ulpianus, Sceuola, Caius, and all the other there named, of wh [...]se sayinges all the sayde textes be as­sembled, were not onely studyous of elo­quēce, but also therin wonderful exercised: for as moche as their stile dothe approche nere to the antique & pure eloquence, than any other kynde of writers, that wrate a­boute that tyme?

¶ Sēblably Tulli, in whom it semeth, that Eloquence hath set her glorious Throne moste ryhcly and preciously adourned for al men to wonder at, but no man to approch it, was not let from beynge an incompara­ble oratour, ne was by the exact knowlege of other sciences withdrawen, from plea­dyng infinite causes before the Senate and iuges, and they beinge of moste wayghtye importaunce: In soo moche as Cornelius Corn. Ta. de orator. Tacitus, an excellente oratour, historien, and lawiar, sayth, Surely in the bookes of Tulli, men maye deprehende, that in hym lacked not the knowlege of geometrye, ne musyke, ne grammer, fynally of no maner of arte that was honest, he of logike per­ceyued the subtiltie, of that parte that was moral al the commoditie, and of al thinges [Page] the chiefe motions and causes. And yet for all this abundaunce, and as it were a gar­nerde heaped with al maner sciēces: there fayled not in hym substaunciall lernynge in the lawes Ciuile, as it maye appere as wel in the bookes, whiche he hym selfe [...]de of lawes, as also, and mooste specially, in many of his moste eloquent orations: whi­che if one well lerned in the lawes of this realme, dydde rede and well vnderstande, he shulde fynde, specially in his orations called Actiones agayne Uerres, many pla­ces, where he shulde espye by lykelyhode the fountaynes, from whens proceded dy­uers groundes of our cōmune lawes. But I wyll nowe leue to speake any more ther­of at this tyme.

¶ Moreouer, when yonge men haue red lawes, expouned in the orations of Tulli, and also in histories, of the begynnynge of lawes, and in the warkes of Plato, Xeno­phon, and Aristotell, of the dyuersyties of lawes and publyke weales, if nature (as I late sayde) wyl dyspose them to that maner study: they shall be therto the more incen­sed, and come vnto it the better prepared and furnysshed. And they whom nature therto nothynge meueth, haue not only sa­ued al that time, which many nowe a dayes do consume in idlenesse, but also haue won [Page 56] suche a treasure, wherby they shall all waye be able to serue honourably theyr prynce, & the publike weale of theyr coun­traye, pryncipally if they conferre all their doctrines to the moste noble studie of mor­rall philosophy, which teacheth both ver­tues maners, and ciuile policie: wherby at the last we shuld haue in this realme sufficiencie of worshyppefull lawyers, and also a publyke weale equiualente to the Grekes or Romaynes.

For what cause at this daye there be in this realme fewe perfecte schole maysters. Capitulo. xv.

LOrde god howe many good and clene wittes of chyldren be nowe adayes perished by ignoraunte schole maysters. Howe lyttell substancial do­ctrine is apprehēded by the fewenesse of good grammariens? Not with stāding I know that there be some weller­ned, which haue taught, and also do teche, but god knowethe a fewe, and they with smal effect, hauing therto no comfort: their aptist and most propre scholers, after they be well instructed in spekynge latine, and vnderstandynge some poetes, beinge taken [Page] from theyr schole by theyr parentes, and eyther be brought to the courte, and made lakaies or pages, or elles are bounden prē ­tises, wherby the worshyp that the maister aboue any rewarde, couayteth to haue by the prayse of his scholer, is vtterly drow­ned. Wherof I haue harde schole maisters very wel lerned, of good right, complaine. But yet (as I sayd) the fewenesse of good grammariens is a great impediment of do­ctrine. And here I wolde the reders shuld marke, that I note to be fewe good grāma­riens, and not none. I cal not them grama­riens, whiche only can teache or make ru­les, wherby a chylde shall onelye lerne to speake congrue latine, or to make sixe ver­sis standyng in one fote, wherin perchance shall be neyther sentence nor eloquence. But I name hym a grammarien by the au­ctorytie of Quintilian, that speakynge la­tine Fab. Quintilian. li. i. elegantly, can expounde good autors, expressynge the inuention and dysposition of the mater, theyr style or fourme of elo­quence, explycatinge the figures, as well of sentences as wordes, leuynge nothing, person or place named by the auctour, vn­declared, or hyd from his scholers. Wher­fore Quintilian sayth, It is not inough for hym to haue red poetes, but all kyndes of wryting must also be sought for, not for the [Page 57] histories only, but also for the propretie of wordes, which cōmunely doo receiue their auctoritie of noble auctours. More ouer, without musike, grammer may not be per­fecte: for as moche as therin muste be spo­ken of metres & harmonies, called rythmi in greke. Neither if he haue not the know­lege of storres, he maye vnderstande poe­tes, whiche in description of tymes (I o­mytte other thynges) they traict of the ri­singe and goinge downe of planettes. Also he may not be ignorant in philosophye, for many places that be almost in euery poete, fetched out of the most subtile parte of na­turall questions. These be well nyghe the wordes of Quintilian. Than beholde how fewe grammariens, after this description, be in this realme.

¶ Undoutedly there be in this realme ma­ny wel lerned, which if the name of a schole mayster were not soo moche hadde in con­tempte, and also if theyr labours with abundante salaries moughte be requited, were ryghte sufficiente and able to induce theyr herers to excellente lernynge: so they be not plucked away grene, and er they be in doctrine sufficiently rooted. But nowe a­dayes, if to a bachelar or mayster of arte, study of philosophy waxeth tedious, if he haue a spone full of latine, he wyll shewe [Page] forth a hoggesheed, without any lerninge, and offre to teache grammer, and expoune noble wryters: and to be in the roume of a mayster, he wyll for a smalle salarie, sette a false colour of lernynge on propre wyttes, whiche wyll be wasshed awaye with one shoure of rayne. For if the chyldren be ab­sente from schole, by the space of one mo­neth, the beste lerned of them, wyll vnneth tell whether FATO, wherby Eneas was broughte in to Itali, were other a manne, a horse, a shyp, or a wylde goose: Al though Uirgilius Aeneid [...] su secūdo. theyr mayster wyll perchance auaunte him selfe to be a good philosopher.

¶ Some men peraduenture do thinke, that at the begynnynge of lernynge, it forceth not, all thoughe the maysters haue not soo exacte doctryne as I haue reherced, but let them take good hede, what Quintilian saythe, It is so moche the better, to be in­structed Fab Qui. lib. i. by them that are beste lerned, for as moch as it is dyfficultie to put out of the mynde, that whiche is ones settylled, the double bourden beynge paynefull to the maysters that shal succede, and veryly mo­che more to vnteache than to teache. Wherfore it is writen, that Timothe the noble musitian, demaunded alwaye a greatter re­warde of them, whom other had taughte, than of them that neuer any thinge lerned. [Page 57] These be the wordes of Quintilian or like.

¶ Also the commune experiēce teacheth, that no man wyl put his sonne to a botcher to lerne, or he bynde hym prentyse to a tai­lour. Or if he wil haue him a conning gold­smyth, wyll bynde hym fyrste prentise to a tynkar. In these thinges poore men be cir­cumspect, and the nobles and gentyll men, who wolde haue theyr sonnes by excellent lernynge come vnto honour, for sparyng of coste, or for lacke of dyligente serche for a good schole maister, wilfully dystroy theyr chyldren, causynge them to be taught that lernynge, whiche wolde require sixe or se­uen yeres to be forgoten, by whiche tyme the more parte of that age is spente, wher­in is the chiefe sharpnesse of wyt, called in latin acumen, and also than approcheth the stubborne age, where the chylde broughte vp in pleasure, dysdayneth correction.

¶ Nowe haue I all declared (as I do sup­pose) the chiefe impechementes of excel­lent lernynge, of the reformation I neede not to speake, sens it is apparaunt, that by the contraries, men pursuing ernestly with discrete iugement, and liberalitie, it shulde sone be amended.

Of sondry fourmes of exercise necessary for euery gentyll man. Cap. xvi.

[Page] AL thoughe I haue hither­to aduaunced the commen­dation of lernynge, special­ly in gentyll men: Yet it is to be considered, that continu­all studye, without somme maner of exercise, shortely exhausteth the spirytes vytall, and hyndereth natural de­coction and dygestion, wherby mannes bo­dy is the sooner corrupted and broughte in to dyuers sickenessis, and fynally the life is therby made shorter. Where contrary wise, by exercise, whiche is a vehement motion (as Galene prince of phisytions defineth) the helthe of manne is preserued, and his strength increased: for as moch as the mē ­bres by meuynge and mutuall touchynge, do waxe more harde, and naturall heate in all the body is therby augmented. More ouer it maketh the spyrytes of a man more stronge and valiant, so that by the hardnes of the membres, all labours be more tolle­rable, by naturall heate, the appetite is the more quicke: the chaunge of the substance receiued, is the more redy, the nourisshing of all partes of the body, is the more suffi­ciente and sure. By valyaunt motion of the spirites, all thynges superfluous be expel­led, and the conduitis of the body clensed.

[Page 59] ¶ Wherfore this parte of phisike, is not to be contempned or neglected in the educa­tion of chyldren, and specially from the age of .xiiii. yeres vppewarde, in whiche tyme strength, with courage increaseth.

¶ More ouer, there be dyuers maners of exercyses, wherof some, onely prepareth and helpeth dygestyon, some augmenteth also strength and hardynesse of body, other serue for agilitie and nymblenes, some for celeritie or spedines. There be also, which ought to be vsed for necessite only. Al these oughte he that is a tutor to a noble man, to haue in remembraunce: and as aportunitie serueth, to put them in experiēce. And spe­cially them, whiche with helthe do ioyne commoditie (and as I mought say) neces­sitie: considerynge that be he neuer so no­ble or valyant, some tyme he is subiecte to peryle, or (to speake it more pleasauntely) seruaunte to fortune. Touchinge suche ex­ercises, as many be vsed within the house, or in the shadowe (as is the olde maner of speakynge) as deambulations or moderate walkynges, laborynge with poyses made of leade or other metall, called in latin Al­teres, Lyftynge and throwynge the heuy stone or barre, playing at tenyse, and dy­uers semblable exercyses, I wyll for this tyme passe ouer, exhortynge them, whiche [Page] do vnderstande latine, and doo desyre to knowe the commodities of sondry exerci­ses, to resorte to the booke of Galene, of the gouernaunce of helthe, called in latine De sanitate tuenda, where they shall be in that matter abundantly satisfied, and finde in the readynge moche delectation: which booke is translated into latine, wonderfull eloquently by doctor Linacre, late mooste worthy phisition, to our moste noble soue­raygne lorde kynge Henry the .viii. And I wyl nowe onely speake of those exercises, apte to the furniture of a gentyll mannes personage, adaptynge his body to harde­nesse, strengthe, and agilitie, and to helpe therwith hym selfe in peryle, whiche maye happen in warres or other necessitie.

Exercises, wherby shulde growe both recreation and profite. Cap. xvii.

VUrastlynge is a very good exercyse in the begynnyng of youth, so that it be with one that is equal in strength, or somwhat vnder, & that the place be softe, that in fallinge their bodies be not brused.

¶ There be diuers maners of wrastlinges, Wrastling. Galenus. but the best, as well for helthe of body, as for exercise of strength is, when laying mu­tuallye theyr handes one ouer a nothers [Page 59] necke, with the other hand they holde fast eche other by the arme, and claspyng their legges together, they inforce them selfes with strength and agilitie, to throwe down eche other, whiche is also praysed by Ga­lene. And vndoubtedly it shall be founde profytable in warres, in case that a Capy­tayne shall be constrayned to cope with his aduersarye hande to hande, hauynge his weapon broken or loste. Also it hath benne sene, that the weaker person, by the sleight of wrastlyng, hath ouerthrowen the stron­ger, almost or he coulde fasten on the other any violent stroke.

¶ Also rennynge is bothe a good exercise Renninge. and a laudable solace. It is written of Epa­minondas, the valiant capitayne of Cheba­nes (who as wel in vertue and prowesse, as in lernyng, surmounted al noble men of his tyme) that dayly he exercised hym selfe in the morning, with rennynge and leapinge, in the eueninge in wrastling, to the intente that lykewyse in armure he moughte the more strongely, embracinge his aduersary, putte hym in daunger. And also that in the chase rennynge and leapinge, he moughte either ouertake his enemy, or beinge pur­sued, if extreme nede required, escape him.

¶ Semblably before hym dyd the worthye Achilles, for whyles his shyppes laye at [Page] rode, he suffred not his people to slomber in idlenesse, but dayly exercised them and hym selfe in rennynge, wherin he was most excellent, and passed al other: and therfore Homere through out all his warke, calleth hym swyfte fote Achilles.

¶ The great Alexander, beynge a childe, excelled all his companions in rennynge, wherfore on a tyme, one demanded of him, if he wolde renne at the great game of O­lympus, wherto out of al partes of Grece, came the moste actife and valiant persones, to assay maistries. Whervnto Alexāder an­swered in this fourme, I wolde very glad­ly renne there, if I were sure to renne with kynges: for if I shuld contende with a pri­uate person, hauynge respecte to our both astates, our victories shulde not be equall.

¶ Nedes must rennyng be taken for a lau­dable exercise, sens one of the moost noble capitaynes of all the Romaynes, toke his name of rennynge, and was called Papirius Cursor, whiche is in englishe, Papirius the Renner. And also the valiant Marius the Romayne, whan he had bene seuen tymes Consull, and was of the age of foure score yeres, exercised him selfe dayly among the yonge menne of Rome, in suche wyse, that there resorted people out of farre partes, to beholde the strength and agilitie of that [Page 61] olde Consul, wherin he compared with the yonge and lusty soudiours.

¶ There is an exercise, whiche is ryghte Swym­mynge. profitable in exstreme daunger of warres, but bicause there semeth to be some peril in the lernyng therof, and also it hath not ben of longe tyme moche vsed, specially among noble men, perchaunce some reders wyll lyttle esteme it, I meane swymmynge. But not withstandynge, if they reuolue the im­becilitie of our nature, the hasardes and daungers of battayle, with the exaumples, whiche shal here after be shewed, they wil (I doubt not) thinke it as necessary to a capitayne or man of armes, as any that I haue yet rehersed.

¶ The Romaines, who aboue all thinges, had mooste in estimation martiall prowesse, had a large and spaciouse fielde, withoute the citie of Rome, which was called Mar­ces field, in latine Campus Martius, wherin the youth of the citie was exercised. This Campus Martius. fielde adioyned to the ryuer of Cyber, to the intente that as well menne as chyldren shulde washe and refreshe them in the wa­ter after theyr labours, as also lerne to swymme, And not men and chyldren only, but also the horses: that by such vsage they shulde more aptely and boldely passe ouer greatte ryuers, and be more able to resyste [Page] or cut the waues, and not be aferde of pir­ries or great stormes. For it hath ben often tymes sene, that by the good swymming of horses, many men haue benne saued: and contrary wise, by a timorouse royle, where the water hath vnneth come to his bealy, his legges hath foltred, wherby many a good and propre man hath perished. What benefite receyued the hole citie of Rome, by the swymmynge of Oratius Cocles? Oratins Cocles. whiche is a noble hystorie, and worthy to be remembred.

¶ After the Romaines had expelled Car­quine theyr king, as I haue before remem­bred, he desired ayde of Porsena, kinge of Chuscanes, a noble and valiaunt prince, to recouer eftsones his realme and dignitye: who with a great and puissaunt host, besie­ged the citie of Rome, and so sodeinely and sharpely assaulted it, that it lacked but litle, that he ne hadde entred into the citie with his host, ouer the brydge, called Sublitius: where encountred with hym this Oratius with a fewe Romaynes. And whyles this noble capitayne, beynge alone, with an in­credible strengthe resysted all the hoste of Porcena, that were on the bridge, he com­maunded the bridge to be broken behynde hym, where with all the Chuscanes ther­on standynge, fell into the greatte ryuer of [Page 61] Ciber, but Oratius al armed lepte into the water, and swamme to his company. Al be it that he was striken with many arowes & dartes, and also greuouslye wounded, not with standynge by his noble courage and feate of swymmynge, he saued the cytie of Rome from perpetuall seruitude, whiche was likely to haue ensued by the returne of the proude Carquine.

¶ Howe moch profited the feate in swim­mynge Iuliꝰ Ce­sar swim­mynge. to the valiaunt Iulius Cesar? who at the batayle of Alexandri, on a bridge be­inge abandoned of his people for the mul­titude of his ennemyes, whiche oppressed them, whan he mought no lenger susteyne the shotte of dartes and arowes, he boldly lepte in to the see, and dyuynge vnder the water, escaped the shotte, and swamme the space of .CC. pasis to one of his shyppes, drawynge his cote armure with his teethe after hym, that his enemies shulde not at­teyne it, and also that it moughte somwhat defende hym from theyr arowes: And that more meruayle was, holdynge in his hande aboue the water, certayne letters, which a littel before he had receyued from the Senate. Sertorius

¶ Before hym Sertoryus (who of the spanyardes was named the seconde Anni­ball for his prowesse) in the battaylle that [Page] Scipio faught agayne the Cimbres, which muaded Fraunce, when by negligence of his people, his enemyes preuailed, and put his hoste to the warse, he beinge sore woū ­ded, and his horse beinge lost, armed as he was in a gesseron, holdynge in his handes a tergate, and his sworde, lept into the ri­uer of Rone, whiche is wonderfull swyft, and swymmynge agayne the streme, came to his company, not without greatte won­drynge of all his enemies, which stode and behelde hym.

¶ The great kynge Alexander lamented, that he had not wel lerned to swimme. For in Indee whan he wente againste the puis­saunt kynge Porus, he was constrained, in folowynge his enterprise, to conueye his hoste ouer a ryuer of wonderful greatnes: than caused he his horse men to gage the water, wherby he firste perceyued, that it came to the brestes of the horses, and in the myddle of the streme, the horsis wente in water to the necke, wherwith the fotemen beinge aferde, durst not aduenture to passe ouer the ryuer. Alexaunder perceyuynge that, with a dolorous maner in this wise la­mented, O howe mooste vnhappy am I of all other, that haue not or this tyme lerned to swymme? And therwith he pulled a ter­gate from one of his soudiours, and casting [Page 62] it in to the water, standynge on it, with his spere cōueyed hym selfe with the streme, & gouernynge the tergate wysely, broughte hym selfe vnto the other syde of the water. wherof his people beinge abasshed, some assayed to swymme, some holdynge faste by the horses, other by speares, & other lyke weapons, many vpon fardels and trusses, gate ouer the ryuer: in so moch as nothing was perished saue a litell baggage, and of that no great quantitie loste.

¶ What vtilitie was shewed to be in swym­mynge at the fyrst warres, which the Ro­maynes had agaynst the Carthaginensys? It happened a batayle to be on the see be­twene them, where they of Carthage, be­inge vainquished, wolde haue set vp theyr sayles to haue fled, but that perceyuyng di­uers yong Romaynes, threwe them selfes in to the see, and swymmyng vnto the ship­pes, enforced theyr ennemies to stryke on lande, and there assaulted them so asprely, that the capitaine of the Romaynes, called Luctatius, mought easily take them.

¶ Nowe to beholde, what excellent com­moditie is in the feate of swymmynge, sens no kynge, be he neuer so puissaunte or per­fecte in the experience of warres, maye as­sure hym selfe from the necessities, whiche fortune soweth among men that be mortal, [Page] And sens on the helth and saulfegarde of a noble capitaine, often tymes dependeth the weale of a realme, nothing shulde be kepte from his knowlege, wherby his personne maye be in euery ieoperdie preserued.

¶ Amonge these exercises, it shall be con­uenyente, Defence with wai­pons. to lerne to handle sondry way­pōs, specyally the sword & the bataile axe: which be for a noble man most conuenient.

¶ But the most honorable exercise in mine opynion, and that besemeth the astate of e­uery Rydynge and vaun­tynge of horsis. noble personne, is to ryde surely and cleane, on a great horse and a roughe, whi­che vndoubtedly not only importeth a ma­iestie and drede to inferiour persones, be­holdyng hym aboue the common course of other men, daūting a fierce and cruel beast, but also is no lyttell socour, as well in pur­suete of ennemyes and confoundyng them, as in escapynge imminente daunger, whan wysedome therto exhorteth. Also a strong and hardy horse doth some tyme more do­mage vnder his mayster, than he with all his weapon: and also setteth forwarde the stroke, and causeth it to lyghte with more vyolence.

¶ Bucephall, the horse of greatte kynge Alexander, who suffred none on his backe Bucephal. saulfe onely his mayster, at the battayle of Thebes beinge sore wounded, wolde not [Page 62] suffre the kynge to departe from hym to a nother horse, but persystynge in his fury­ouse courage, wonderfully continued out the batayle, with his fete and tethe beating downe and destroyenge many ennemyes: and many sēblable maruailes of his strēgth he shewed. Wherfore Alexander, after the horse was slayne, made in remembrance of hym a citie in the countreye of India, and called it Bucephal, in perpetuall memorie of so worthy a horse, which in his lyfe had so well serued hym.

¶ What wonderful enterprises dyd Iulius Cesar achieue by the helpe of his horse? whiche not onely dyd excell al other horsis in fiercenesse and swyste rennyng, but also was in some partes discrepante in fygure from other horses, hauyng his fore houes like to the fete of a man. And in that figure Plinius writeth, that he sawe hym kerued before the temple of Uenus.

¶ Other remembrance there is of dyuers horses, by whose monstruous power, men did exploite incredible affaires: but by cause the reporte of them conteynethe thynges impossyble, and is not writen by any appro­ued auctour, I wyll not in this place re­herce them. Sauynge that it is yet suppo­sed, that the castell of Arundell in Sussex, was made by one Beauuize, erle of South Arundell. [Page] hamton, for a monument of his horse called Arundell, whiche in farre countreyes had saued his mayster from many peryls.

¶ Nowe consyderynge the vtilitie in ry­dynge great horses, it shal be necessary (as I haue sayde) that a gentylman do lerne to ryde a great and fierce horse whyles he is tender, and the braunes and sinewes of his thighes not fully consolidate.

¶ There is also a ryghte good exercyse, whiche is also expedient to lerne, which is named the vauntynge of a horse: that is to leape on hym at euery side without styrope or other helpe, specially whyles the horse is goinge. And beinge therin expert, than armed at all poyntes to assaye the same, the commoditie wherof is so manifeste, that I nede no further to declare it.

The auncient hyuntynge of Greckes and Romaynes. Cha. xviii.

BUt nowe wyll I procede to write of exercises, whiche be not vtterly re­proued of noble auctours, if they be vsed with oportunitie & in measure, I mene huntynge, haukynge, and daunsing. In hū ­tynge maye be an imitation of batayle, if it be suche as was vsed among them of Per­sia: wherof Xenophon, the noble and most [Page 64] eloquent philosopher, maketh a delectable mention, in his boke, called the doctrine of Cirus: and also maketh a nother specyall booke, conteynynge the hole disciplyne of the auncient huntynge of the Grekes, and in that fourme beynge vsed, it is a laudable exercyse, of the whiche I wyll nowe some what write.

¶ Cirus, and other auncyente kynges of The hun­tynge of Persians. Xenophon pedia Cy­ri. ii. i. Persia (as Xenophon wryteth) vsed this maner in all theyr huntynge. Fyrste, where as it semeth, there was in the realme of Persia but one Citie, whiche as I suppose, was called Persepolis, there were the children of the Persians, from theyr infancye, vnto the aege of seuentene yeres, broughte vp in the lerning of iustice and temperance, and also to obserue continēce in meate and drynke: in so moche, that whyther so euer they wente, they toke with them for theyr sustenaunce, but onely breade and herbes, called Cressis, in latine Nasturtium: and for theyr drynke, a dyshe to take water out of the ryuers as they passed. Also they ler­ned to shote, and to caste the darte or iaue­lyn. Whan they came to the aege of .xvii. yeres, they were lodged in the palayses, that were there ordeyned for the kyng and his nobles, whiche was as wel for the saue garde of the citie, as for the example of tē ­peraunce, [Page] that they dayly had at theyr eies gyuen to them by the nobles: whiche also mought be called Peeres, by the significa­tion of the greeke word, wherin they were called Omotimi. More ouer, they were ac­customed to ryse alwaye in the fyrst spring of the daye, and pacyentely to susteyne al­waye bothe cold and heate: And the kyng dydde se them exercised in goinge and also in rennynge. And whan he intended, in his owne personne, to hunte, which he dydde commenly euery moneth, he toke with him the one halfe of the company of yonge mē, that were in the palayses. Than toke eue­ry man with hym his bowe and quiuer with arowes, his sworde or hache of steele, a li­tel tergate, and two dartes. The bowe and arowes serued to pursue beastes that were swyft: and the dartes, to assayle them and all other beastes. And whan theyr courage was chaufed, or that by fiersenesse of the beast they were in daunger, than force con­strayned them to strike with the sworde, or hache, and to haue good eye at the violent assaulte of the beaste, and to defende them if nede were, with theyr tergates, wherin they accounted to be the trewest and moste certayn meditation of warres. And to this huntynge the kynge didde conducte them, and he hym selfe fyrst hunted suche beastes [Page 66] as he hapned to encounter. And whan he had taken his pleasure, he than with moste dilygence didde set other forwarde, behol­dynge who hunted valyauntly, and refour­mynge them, whom he sawe negligente or slouthfull. But er they wente forth to this huntynge, they dyned competentely: and duryng theyr huntyng they dined no more. For if by any occasyon theyr hyntinge con­tinued aboue one daye, they toke the saide dyner for theyr supper: and the next daye, if they kylled no game, they hunted vntyll supper tyme: accountynge those two daies but for one. And if they toke any thynge, they eate it at theyr supper with ioye and pleasure. If nothynge were kylled, they eate only bread and cressis, as I before re­hersed, and dranke therto water. And if a­ny man wyll dispreyse this diete, lette hym thinke what pleasure there is in breade, to hym that is hungry: and what dylectation is in drinkynge water to hym that is thur­sty. Surely this maner of huntyng may be called a necessary solace and pastyme, for therin is the very imitation of battaile. For not onelye it doth shewe the courage and strengthe, as well of the horse as of hym that rydeth, trauersynge ouer mountaines and valeys, encountrynge and ouerthro­wyng great and myghty beastes: but also it [Page] increaseth in them both agilitie and quick­nesse, also sleyght and policie to fynde such passages and straites, where they may pre­uent or intrap theyr enemies. Also by con­tinuaunce therin, they shall easyly susteyne trauayle in warres, hunger & thurst, colde and heate. Hytherto be the wordes of Xe­nophon, although I haue not sette them in lyke order as he wrate them.

¶ The chiefe huntynge of the valyaunte The hun­tynge of the grekes Grekes was at the lyon, the libarde, the ti­gre, the wylde swyne, and the beare, and sometime the wolfe, and the harte. These­us, which was companion to Hercules, at­teyned the greatest parte of his renoume, for fightynge with the greate bore, whiche the Grekes called Phera, that wasted and consumed the fieldes of a great countrey.

¶ Meleager likewise for sleinge the great bore in Calidonia, whiche in greatnes and fiercenes, excelled al other bores: and had slayne many noble and valyaunt persones.

¶ The great Alexander, in tymes vacante from bataile, delited in that maner hunting. On a tyme he faughte alone with a lyon, wonderfull great and fierce, being present amonge other straungers, the ambassadour of Lacedemonia. And after longe trauaile, with incredible myght, he ouerthrewe the lyon, and slewe hym, wherat the sayde am­bassadour, [Page 66] wondrynge maruaylously, sayd to the kynge, I wold to god (noble prince) ye shulde fighte with a lyon for some great empire. By whiche wordes it semed, that he nothynge approued the valiauntnes of a prince by fighting with a wild beast, wher­in moch more was aduentured, thā mought be by the victorie goten.

¶ All be it Pompei, Sertorius, and diuers The hun­tynge of the Ro­manes. other noble Romaynes, whan they were in Numidia, Libia, and such other countreys, whiche nowe be called Barbary and Mo­risco, in the vacaty on season from warres, they hunted lions, liberdes, and such other beastes, fierce and sauage, to thentēt ther­by to exercise them selfes and theyr souldi­ours. But al mgihty god be thāked, in this realme be no suche cruel beastis to be pur­sued. Not withstandyng, in the huntyng of redde dere and falowe, mought be a great parte of semblable exercise, vsed by noble men, specially in forestis, whiche be spaci­ouse: if they wolde vse but a fewe nombre of houndes, onely to harborowe or rouse the game, by theyr yornyng to giue know­lege, whiche waye it fleeth, the remenaunt of the disporte to be in pursuing with iaue­lins and other waipons, in maner of warre. And to them, whiche in this huntynge doo shewe moste prowesse and actiuitie, a gar­lande, [Page] or some other lyke token, to be gy­uen in sygne of victory, and with a ioyfull maner to be brought in the presence of him that is chiefe in the companye, there to re­ceyue condygne prayse for theyr good en­deuour.

¶ I dyspraise not the huntynge of the foxe with rennynge houndes, but it is not to be compared to the other huntyng in commo­ditie of exercise. Therfore it wolde be vsed in the depe wynter, whan the other game is vnseasonable.

¶ Hunting of the hare with grehoundes, is a ryght good solace for men that be stu­dyouse, or them to whom nature hath not gyuen personage, or courage apte for the warres. And also for gentylwomen, which feare neyther sonne nor wynde for appay­ringe theyr beautie. And perauenture they shall be there at, lasse idell, than they shulde be at home in theyr chambres.

¶ Kylling of dere with bowes or greyhoū des, serueth well for the pot (as is the cō ­mune saying) and therfore it must of neces­sitie be some tyme vsed. But it conteynethe therin no commendable solace or exercise, in comparison to the other fourme of hun­tinge, if it be diligently perceyued.

¶ As for haukynge, I can finde no notable Haukinge. remembrance, that it was vsed of auncient [Page 68] tyme amonge noble pryncis. I call auncy­ente tyme, before a thousand yeres passed, sens whiche tyme, vertue and noblenesse hath rather decayed than increased. Nor I coulde neuer knowe, who founde fyrst that dysporte.

¶ Plinius maketh menciō in his .viii. boke of the hystorye of nature, that in the par­tes of Grece, called Thracia, menne and haukes, as it were by a confederacie, toke byrdes to gether in this wyse. The menne sprange the byrdes out of the busihes, and the haukes sorynge ouer them, beate them downe, soo that the men moughte easyly take them. And than dyd the men departe equally the praye with the faukons, which beynge well serued, eftsoones and of a cu­stome repayred to suche places, where be­inge a lofte, they perceyued men to that purpose assembled.

¶ By whiche rehersal of Plinius, we may coniecte, that from Thratia came this dis­porte of haukynge. And I doubt not, but many other as well as I, haue sene a sem­blable experience of wilde hobies, whiche in some countreys., that be champaine, will sore and lie a lofte, houeringe ouer larkes and quayles, and kepe them downe on the ground, whiles they, which awayte on the [Page] praye, do take them. But in what wyse, or where so euer the beginninge of haukynge was, surely it is a ryghte delectable solace, thoughe therof commeth not so moch vti­litie (concernynge exercise) as there doth of huntynge. But I wolde oure faukons moughte be satisfied with the dyuysion of their pray, as the faukons of Tracia were, that they nedeed not to deuour the hennes of this realme, in suche nombre, that vnles it be shortely considered, and that faukons be broughte to a more homely dyete, it is ryght lykely, that within a shorte space of yeres, our familiar pultrie shalbe as scarce, as be nowe partriche and fesaunt. I speake not this in disprayse of the faukons, but of them whiche kepeth them lyke cokneyes. The meane gentyl men and honeste house­holders, whiche care for the gentyl enter­teinement of their frendes, do find in their dyshe, that I saye trouthe, and noble men shal ryght shortly espie it, whan they come sodeinly to theyr frendes house, vnpuruei­ed for lacke of longe warnynge.

¶ But now to returne to my purpose. Un­doubtedly haukynge, measurably vsed and for a passetyme, gyueth to a man good ap­petite to his supper. And at the least waye withdraweth hym from other daliaunce or disportes dishonest, and to body and soule [Page 67] perchaunce pernicious.

¶ Nowe I purpose to declare some thing, concernynge daunsynge, wherin is merite of prayse and dysprayse, as I shall expresse it in suche fourme, as I trust the reder shal fynde therin a rare and synguler pleasure, with also good lernynge in thinges not yet communely knowen in our vulgare. Which if it be red of hym, that hath good oppor­tunitie and quyete sylence, I doubte not, but he shall take therby suche commoditie, as he loked not to haue founden in that ex­ercise, whiche of the more parte of sad men is so lyttell estemed.

That all daunsynge is not to be re­proued. Capitulo. xix.

I Am not of that opinion, that all daunsing generally is repugnaunt vnto vertue, all thoughe some persones excellently ler­ned, specially diuines, so do affirme it: whi­che alwaye haue in theyr mouthes (whan they come into the pulpette) the sayinge of the noble doctour, sainct Augustine, That better it were, to delue or to go to ploughe on the sondaye, thanne to daunce. Whiche moughte be spoken of that kynde of daun­synge, which was vsed in the tyme of sainct Augustine, whan euery thing with the em­pire [Page] of Rome, declined from their perfec­tion, and the olde maner of dansynge was forgoten, & none remayned, but that which was lasciuious, and corrupted the myndes of them that daunsed, and prouoked synne, as semblably some do at this daye. Also at that tyme idolatry was nat clerely extinct, but diuers fragmentes therof remayned in euery region. And perchance solemne daū ses, whiche were celebrate vnto the pay­nims false goddis, were yet continued, for asmoch as the pure religion of Christ was nat in al places consolidate, and the pastors and curates dyd winke at suche recreatiōs, fearynge, if they shulde hastily haue reme­ued it, & induced sodaynly the seueritie of goddis lawes, they shulde styre the peo­ple therby to a generall sedition, to the im­minent daunger and subuertion of Christis hole religion, late sowen among them, and nat yet sufficiently rooted. But the wyse & discrete doctour saynte Augustine, vsynge the art of an oratour, wherin he was right excellent, omytting all rigorous menace or terrour, dissuaded theym by the moste ea­siest way, from that maner ceremony, belō ­gyng to idolatrie, preferryng before it bo­dyly occupation, therby aggrauatynge the offence to god, that was in that ceremony, sens occupation, whiche is necessarye for [Page 70] mans sustinaunce, and in due tymes vertu­ous, is nat withstandynge prohibited to be vsed on the sondayes. And yet in these wordes of this noble doctour, is not so gene­rall disprayse to all daunsynge as some men do suppose. And that for two causes. Fyrst in his comparison, he preferreth nat before daunsynge, or ioyneth therto any vycious exercyse, but annecteth it with tyllyng and diggynge of the erthe, whiche be labours incident to mans lyuyng, and in them is cō ­teyned nothynge that is vycyous. Where­fore the preemynence therof aboue daun­synge, qualifyeng the offence, they beinge done out of due tyme, that is to saye, in an holy daye, concludeth nat daunsynge to be at all tymes and in euery maner vnlaufull or vicious, consyderynge, that in certayn ca­ses of exstreme necessytie, menne mought bothe ploughe and delue without doing to god any offence. Also it shall seme to them, that seriously do examyne the said wordes, that therein, Sayncte Augustine dothe nat prohybyte daunsynge so generally, as it is taken, but onely suche daunses, whiche (as I late sayde) were superstytious, and con­teyned in theym a spyce of ydolatrie, or el­les dydde with vncleane motions or coun­tynances irritate the myndes of the daun­cers to venereall lustes. Wherby fornicatiō [Page] and auoutry were dayly increased. Also in those daūces were enterlased dities of wan ton loue or rybaudry, with frequente re­membraūce of the most vile idolles, Uenus & Baccus, as it were that the daunce were to their honour and memory, whiche moste of all abhorred from Christis religion, sa­uering the auncient errour or paganisme.

¶ I wold to god those names were not at this day, vsed in balades and ditties, in the courtes of pryncys and noble men, where many good wittes be corrupted with sem­blable fantasies, whiche in better wyse em­ployed, moughte haue bene more necessa­ry to the publyke weale, and theyr princes honour. But nowe wyll I leaue this sery­ouse matter to diuines, to perswade or dys­suade herein, accordynge to theyr offyces. And sens in myne opinion sayncte Augu­stine, that blessed clerke, reproueth not so generally all daunsynge, but that I maye laufully reherse some kynde therof, which maye be necessary, and also commendable, takynge it for an exercise: I shal nowe pro­cede to speake of the fyrst beginnyng ther­of, and in how great estimation it was had in dyuers regions.

Of the fyrst beginning of daunsinge, and the olde estimation therof. Cap. xx.

[Page 69] THere be sendry opinions of the ory­ginall beginninge of daunsynge. The poetes do faine, that whan Saturne, whiche deuoured dyuers his children, and semblably wolde haue done with Iupiter, Bhea the mother of Iupiter, deuised, that Curetes (whiche were mē of armes in that countrey) shuld daunse in armour, playing Curetes. with theyr swordes and sheldes, in suche fourme, as by that newe and pleasaunt de­uise they shulde assuage the melancolye of Saturne, and in the meane tyme, Iupyter was cōueyed into Phrigia, where Saturne also pursuyng hym, Bhea semblably taught the peple there, called Coribantes, to cāce in a nother fourme: where with Saturne Choribā ­tes. was eftsones demulced and appaised. Whi­che fable hath a resemblaunce to the histo­ry of the bible, in the fyrste boke of kinges, where it is remēbred, that Saul, whō god chase from a keper of asses, to be kynge of iewes (who in stature excelled, and was a­boue all other men by the heed) declinyng from the lawes and preceptes of god, was possessed of an iuell spirite, which often ti­mes turmented and vexed hym: and other remedye founde he none, but that Dauid, whiche after hym was kynge, being at that tyme a propre childe, and playinge swetely on a harpe, with his pleasaunt and perfect [Page] harmonie, reduced his mynde into his pri­stinate estate: and durynge the tyme that he played, the spirite cessed to vexe hym: whiche I suppose hapned nat onely of the efficacie of musyke (albeit therin is moche power, as well in repressynge as excytinge naturall affectes) but also of the vertue in­generate in the chylde Dauyd, that playd, whom god also had p̄destinate to be a great kyng, and a great prophete. And for the souerayn gyftes of grace and of nature, that he was endowed with, all myghty god said of him, that he had founde a man after his harte and pleasure. But nowe to retourne to speake of daunsynge.

¶ Some interpretours of poetes do ima­gin, Proteus. that Proteus, who is supposed to haue turned him self into sondry figures, as som tyme to shew hym selfe like a serpent, some tyme lyke a lyon, otherwhyles lyke water, an other tyme like the flame of fyre, signifi­eth to be none other, but a delyuer & crafty daunser, whiche in his daunse coulde ima­gyne the inflexions of the serpent, the soft and delectable flowynge of the water, the swiftnes and mountynge of the fyre, the fierse rage of the lyon, the violence & furye of the lybarde. Whiche exposition is nat to be dispraised, sins it discordeth nat from re­son. But one opinyon there is, whiche I [Page 72] wylle reherse, more for the merye fantasy, that therin is cōteined, than for any faythe or credite that is to be gyuen therto.

¶ Ouer Syracusis (a greate and auncient citie in Sicile) there raigned a cruel tyrant Gelo the kynge of Sicile. called GELO, which by horryble tyrannies and oppressions, brought hym selfe into the hatrede of all his people, whyche he per­ceyuynge, leste by mutuall communication, they shulde conspyre agaynst hym any re­bellyon, he prohibited all men vnder terri­ble menaces, that no man or woman shulde speake vnto an nother, but in stede of wor­des, they shoulde vse in their necessary af­fayres, countenaunces, tokens, and mo­uynges, with theyr fete, handes, and eien, whiche for necessitie fyrste vsed, at the laste grewe to a perfecte and delectable daun­synge. And GELO, nat withstandynge his folyshe curiosite, at the laste was slayne of his people moste myserably. But although this hystorie were true, yet was nat daun­synge at this tyme fyrst begon: for Orphe­us and Museus, the moste auncient of po­etes, and also Homere, whiche were longe afore GELO, do make mention of daūsing. And in DELVS, whiche was the moste an­cient temple of Apollo, no solemnitie was done without daunsynge.

¶ Also in Indie, where the people hono­reth [Page] the sonne, they assemble togyther, and whanne the sonne fyrste appereth, ioyned all in a daunce, they salute hym, supposinge that for as moche as he mouethe without sensible noyse, it pleaseth him best to be like wyse saluted, that is to say with a pleasante motion and silence.

¶ The interpretours of Plato do thinke, that the wonderful and incōprehensible or­dre of che celestiall bodies, I meane ster­res and planettes, and theyr motions har­monicall, gaue to them, that intentifly, and by the depe serche of reason beholde their coursys, in the sondry dyuersities of nom­bre and tyme, a fourme of imitation of a sē ­blable motion: whiche they called daun­synge. Wherfore the more nere they ap­proched to that temperaunce, and subtyle modulation, of the sayd superiour bodyes, the more perfect and commēdable is theyr daunsynge: whiche is mooste lyke to the trouthe of any opinion that I haue hither­to founden.

¶ Other fables there be, which I omytte for this presente tyme: And nowe I wyll expresse, in what estymation daunsyng was hadde in the aunciente tyme, and also son­dry fourmes of daunsynge, not all; but such as hadde in them a semblaunce of vertue or kunnynge.

[Page 74] ¶ Whan the arke of god (wherin was put Archa fe­deris. the tables of the commaundementes, the yerde, wherwith Moises deuided the red see, and did the miracles in the presence of Pharao, kynge of Egipte: also a parte of manna, wherwith the chyldren of Israel were fedde fourty yeres in desert) was re­couered of the Philisties, and brought vn­to the citie of Gaba, the holy kyng Dauid, Kyng Da­uid daun­sing opēty. wearynge on hym a linen surplesse, daun­sed before the sayd arke, folowynge hym a gret nombre of instrumētis of musike: wher at his wyfe Micol, the daughter of kynge Saul, disdayned and scorned hym, wher­with (as holy scripture saythe) all myghty god was moche displeased. And Dauid not cessinge, daunsed ioyousely through the ci­tie, in that maner honourynge that solemne feaste, whiche amonge the iewes was one of the chiefe and principall, wherwith god was more pleased, than with all the other obseruances that then were done vnto hym at that time.

¶ I wyll not trouble the reders with the innumerable ceremonyes of the gentyles, which were comprehended in daunsinges, sens they oughte to be noumbred amonge superstytions. But I wyll declare, howe wyse menne and valiaunte capitaynes im­braced daunsyng for a soueraygne and pro­fytable [Page] exercise.

¶ Licurgus, that gaue firste lawes to the Lacedemones (a people in grece) ordey­ned that the children there shuld be taught as diligētly to daūse in armure, as to fight. And that in tyme of warres, they shoulde meue them in bataile againe their enemies, in fourme and maner of daunsynge.

¶ Semblably the old inhabitātes of Ethi­opia, at the ioynyng of theyr batayles, and whan the trumpettes and other instrumen­tes soune, they daūce: and in stede of a qui­uer, they haue theyr dartes set about theyr heades, lyke to rayes or beames of the sonne, wherwith they beleue that they put theyr enemies in feare.

¶ Also it was not lefull for any of them, to caste any darte at his enemie but daunsyng. And not onely this rude people estemed so moche daunsynge, but also the moste noble of the grekes, whiche for theyr excellencie in prowesse and wisedome, were called half goddis, as Achilles, and his sonne Pir­rhus, and diuers other. Wherfore Homere, among the highe benefites that god giueth to man, reciteth daunsynge. For he saythe in the fyrste boke of Iliados,

¶ Suppose ye, that the Romaynes, which [Page 75] in grauitie of maners passed the Greekes, had not gret pleasure in daunsing? Did not Romulus, the fyrst kyng of Romaines, and builder of the citie of Rome, ordeyne cer­tain priestes & ministers to the god Mars. whom he aduaunted to be his father? whi­che prestes, for as moch as certayne times they daūsed about the citie with tergates, that they imagined to fal from heuen, were called in latine Salij, whiche in to englyshe may be translated daūsers: who cōtinued so long time in reuerēce amōg the Romayns, that vnto the tyme that they were christ­ned, the noble men & princis childrē there, vsing moch diligence and suite, coueyted to be of the college of the sayde daunsers

¶ More ouer, the emperours, that were most noble, delited in daunsyng, perceiuing therin to be a perfecte measure, which may be called modulation: wherin some daun­sers of olde tyme so wonderfully excelled, that they wolde playnely expresse in daun­synge, without any wordes, or dyttie, hi­stories, with the hole circumstaunce of af­faires in them conteyned: wherof I shal reherse two maruailouse experiences.

¶ At Rome, in the tyme of Nero, there was a philosopher called Demetrius, whi­che was of that secte, that for as moche as they abandoned all shame fastenes in theyr [Page] wordes and actes, they were called Cinici in englishe doggyshe. This Demetrius of­ten reprouinge daunsynge, wolde saye, that there was nothynge therin of any impor­taunce, and that it was none other, but a counterfaytyng with the feete and handes, of the armonye that was shewed before in the rebecke, shalme, and other instrument, and that the motyons were but vayne and seperate from all vnderstandyng, and of no purpose or efficacie. Wherof herynge a fa­mouse daunser, and one as it semed, that was not without good lernynge, and had in remembraunce many histories, he came to Demetrius, and sayde vnto hym, Syre I humbly desire you, refuse not to do me that honestie with your presence, in beholdyng me daunce, whiche ye shall se me do with­out soune of any instrument. And than if it shall seme to you worthy disprayse, vtterly banyshe and confounde my science. Wher­vnto Demetrius graunted. The yong man daūsed the aduoutry of Mars and Uenus, and therin expressed howe Uulcane, hous­bande to Uenus, therof beinge aduertysed by the sonne, layde snares for his wyfe and Mars: also howe they were wounden and tyed in Uulcanes nette: more ouer, howe al the goddes came to the spectable: finally howe Uenus all ashamed and blusshynge, [Page 76] fearefully desyred her louer Mars to deli­uer her from that peril, and the residue cō ­teyned in the fable: whiche he dyd with so subtile & crafty gesture, with suche a playne declaration of euery acte in the mater (whiche of all thynge is mooste dyfficyle) with suche a grace and beautie, also with a wytte so wonderfull and pleasaunte, that Deme­trius, as it semed, therat reioysyng and de­lytynge, cried with a loude voyce, O man I do not onely se, but also here what thou doest: And it semeth also to me, that with thy handes thou spekeste. Whiche sayinge was confirmed by al them that were at that tyme present.

¶ The same yonge man songe and daun­sed on a tyme before the emperour Nero, whan there was also presente a straunge kynge, whiche vnderstode none other lan­gage but of his owne countreye: yet not­withstandynge, the man daunsed so aptely and playnely, as his custome was, that the straunge kynge, all thoughe he perceyued not what he sayde, vnderstode euery deale of the matter. And whan he hadde taken his leaue of the emperour to departe, the emperour offered to gyue hym any thynge that he thoughte moughte be to his com­moditie. Ye maye (sayde the kynge) boun­teouselye rewarde me, if ye lende me the [Page] yonge man that daunsed before your maie­stie. Nero wondring, and requiring of him, why he so importunately desyred the daū ­ser, or what cōmoditie the daunser mought be vnto hym. Syr, sadie the kynge, I haue dyuers confins and neyghbours, that be of sondry langages and maners, wherfore I haue often tymes nede of many interpre­tours. Wherfore if I hadde this man with me, and shulde haue any thynge to do with my neyghbours, he wolde so with his faciō and gesture expresse euery thing to me, and teche them to do the same, that from hens­forth I shulde not haue nede of any inter­pretour.

¶ Also the auncient philosophers commended daunsynge: in so moche, as Socrates, the wysest of al the grekes in his tyme, and from whom all the sectes of philosophers, as from a fountaine were deriuied, was not ashamed to account daunsynge amonge the seriouse disciplines, for the commendable beautie, for the apte and proportionate me­uynge, and for the crafty disposition and fa­cionynge of the body.

¶ It is to be cōsidered, that in the sayd an­ciente tyme, there were dyuers maners of daunsyng, which varied in the names, lyke wyse as they dydde in tunes of the instru­mente, as semblably, we haue at this daye. [Page 77] But those names, some were general, some were speciall: the general names were gi­uen of the vniuersall fourme of daunsynge, wherby was represented the qualyties or conditions of sondry astates: as the maie­stie of princis was shewed in that daunse whiche was named Eumelia, and belōged to tragedies: dissolute motiōs, and want on countenaunces, in that whiche was called Cordax, and pertained to comedies: wher­in men of base hauiour onely daunsed. Also the fourme of battayle and fyghting in ar­mure, was expressed in those daunses, whi­che were called Enopliae. Also there was a kynde of daunsynge called Hormus of all the other moste lyke to that, whyche is at this tyme vsed, wherin daunsed yonge men and maydens: the manne expressyng in his motion and countenance strength and cou­rage, apte for the warres: the mayden mo­deration and shamefastnes, whiche repre­sented a pleasant coniunction of fortitude and temperance.

¶ In stede of these we haue now base daū ­ses, bargenettes, pauyons, turgions, and roundes. And as for the specialle names, they were taken as they be nowe, either of the names of the fyrste inuentours: or of the measure and noumbre that they do cō ­teyne: or of the fyrste wordes of the ditie, [Page] whiche the songe comprehendeth, wherof the daunse was made. In euery of the sayd daunses, there was a cōcinnitie of meuing the foote and body, expressyng some plea­sant or profitable affectes or motions of the mynde.

¶ Here a man maye beholde, what crafte was in thauncient tyme in daunsynge, whi­che at this day no man can imagine or con­iecte. But yf men wolde nowe applye the fyrste parte of their youthe, that is to saye from seuen yeres to twentie, effectually in the scyences liberall, and knowlege of hy­storyes, they shoulde reuiue the aunciente fourme as welle of daunsynge, as of other exercises. Wherof they moughte take nat only plesure, but also profit and cōmoditie.

¶ Wherfore in the good order of daunsing a man and a woman daunseth togyther. Cap. xxi.

IT is diligently to be noted, that the cō ­panye of man and woman in daunsynge, they bothe obseruynge one nombre and tyme in their meuynges, was nat begonne without a speciall consyderation, as welle for the necessarie coniunction of those two persons, as for the intimation of sondry v­tues: whiche be by them represented.

[Page 78] ¶ And for as moche as by the ioynyng of a man and a woman in daunsynge may be si­gnified matrimonye, I coulde in declaryng the dignitie and commoditie of that sacra­ment, make intiere volumes, if it were nat so cōmunely knowen to all men, that almost euery frere limit our carieth it writen in his bosome. Wherfore leste in repeting a thing so frequent and commune, my boke shulde be as fastidious or fulsome to the reders, as suche marchaunt preachers be nowe to their customers, I wylle reuerentely take my leaue of diuines. And for my parte, I wyll endeuour my selfe, to assemble oute of the bookes of auncient poetes, and philo­phers, matter as well apte to my purpose, as also newe, or at the leste wyse infrequēt or seldome harde of theym, that haue nat radde very many autours in greke & latine.

¶ But now to my purpose. In euery daūse of a moste auncient custome, there daūseth to gyther a man and a woman, holdyng ech other by the hande or the arme, whych be­tokeneth concorde. Nowe it behoueth the daunsers, and also the beholders of them, to knowe al qualities incident to a man, and also all qualities to a woman lykewise ap­pertaynynge.

¶ A man in his natural perfection is fiers, A mannes qualities. hardye, stronge in opynyon, coueytous of [Page] glory, desirous of knowlege, appetiting by generation to brynge forthe his semblable. The good nature of a womā is to be myld, timerous, tractable, benigne, of sure remē ­brāce, & shamfast. Diuers other qualites of eche of them mought be foūd out, but these be most apparant, and for this time sufficiēt.

¶ Wherfore whan we beholde a man and a woman daunsing to gether, let vs suppose there to be a concorde of al the sayd quali­ties, beinge ioyned togyther, as I haue set them in order. And the meuynge of the mā wold be more vehemēt, of the woman more delycate, and with lesse aduansynge of the body, signifienge the courage and strength that ought to be in a mā, & the plesant sobrenesse that shuld be in a woman. And in this wsse Fiersenes, ioyned with Myldenesse, ma­kethe Seueritie: Hardynesse with Timerosi­tie, maketh Magnanimitie, that is to say, va­liant courage: wilful opinion and Tractabi­litie, (which is to be shortly perswaded and meued) makith Cōstance, a vertue: Couetise of glorie, adourned with benignitie, causith honour: Desire of knowlege, with sure re­membrance, procureth Sapience: Shamfast­nes ioyned to appetite of generatiō, maketh Continence: which is a meane betwene Chastitie and inordinate lust. These qualities, in this wise being knyt togither, and signified [Page 79] in the personages of man and woman daū ­singe, do expresse or sette out the figure of very nobilitie: whiche in the higher astate it is contained, the more excellente is the vertue in estimation.

¶ Howe daunsing may be an introduction vnto the fyrste morall vertue called prudence. Cap. xxii.

AS I haue all redy affirmed, the prin­cipall cause of this my lyttell enter­pryse, is to declare an induction or meane, howe children of gentyll nature or disposition may be trayned into the way of vertue with a pleasant facilitie: And for as moch as it is very expedient, that there be myxte with studye some honest & moderate disport, or at the lest way recreation, to re­cōfort and quicken the vitall spirites, leste they longe trauaylynge or being moch oc­cupied in contemplation or remembrāce of thinges graue and serious, moughte hap­pen to be fatigate, or perchance oppressed. And therfore Tulli, who vneth found euer any tyme vacaunt from studye, permytteth in his fyrste boke of offyces, that men may vse playe and disport: yet nat withstanding in suche wise as they do vse slepe and other maner of quyete, whanne they haue suffi­ciētly [Page] disposed ernest matters & of weigh­ty importaunce.

¶ Nowe bycause there is no passe tyme to be cōpared to that, wherin may be founden both recreation and meditation of vertue: I haue among all honest pastymes, wher­in is exercise of the body, noted daunsyng to be of an excellent vtilitie comprehēding in it wonderfull fygures (whiche the gre­kes do call Idea, of vertues and noble qua­lities, and specially of the cōmodious ver­tue called prudence, whom Tulli defyneth Ci. offi. i. Prudence. to be the knowlege of thīges, which ought to be desyred & folowed: and also of them, whiche ought to be fled from or eschewed. And it is named of Aristotel the mother of vertues, of other philosophers it is called the capytayne or maystres of vertues, of some the house wyfe, for as moche as by her diligēce she doth inuestigate & prepare places apt and cōuenient, where other vertues shall execute theyr powers or offices. Wherfore as Salomon saith, lyke as in wa­ter be shewed the vysages of them that be­holde Prov. 27. it, so vnto menne that be prudent, the secretes of mens hartes be openly disco­uered. This vertue beinge so cōmodious to man, and as it were the porche of the noble palayce of mannes Reason, wherby all other vertues shall entre, it semeth to me [Page 80] ryght expediēt, that as sone as oportunitie may be founden, a chylde, or yonge man, be therto induced. And bicause that the study of vertue is tedyous for the more parte to them that do flourysshe in yonge yeres, I haue deuised, how in the fourme of daūsing nowe late vsed in this realme amonge gen­tylmen, the hole description of this vertue prudence may be founden out and wel per­ceyued, as wel by the daunsers, as by them whyche standynge by, wylle be dylygente beholders and markers, hauynge first myn instructiō surely grauē in the table of their remembrance. wherfore all they that haue their courage stered towarde very honour or perfecte nobilitie, let them approche to this passe tyme, and either them selfes pre­pare them to daunse, or els at the leste way beholde with watchynge eyen, other that can daunse truely, kepyng iust measure and tyme. But to the vnderstanding of this in­struction, they must marke well the sondry motions and measures, which in true form of daunsinge is to be specially obserued.

¶ The first meuing in euery daunse is cal­led honour, which is a reuerent inclinatiō or curtesie, with a lōge deliberatiō or pause, and is but one motion, comprehending the tyme of thre other motions or setting forth of the foote: By that may be signified, that [Page] at the begynning of all our actes, we shulde do due honour to god, whiche is the roote of prudence, whiche honour is compact of these thre thinges, feare, loue, & reuerēce. And that in the begynnynge of al thinges, we shoulde aduysedly, with some tracte of tyme, beholde and foresee the successe of our enterpryse.

¶ By the seconde motion, which is two in nombre, may be signified celerite and slow­nesse: Celeritie, or quiknes & slownes. whiche two, all be it they seme to di­scorde in their effectes and natural propre­ties: therfore they maye be welle resem­bled to the braule in daunsynge (for in our A braule. englyshe tonge we say men do braule, whan betwene them is altercation in wordis) yet of them two springeth an excellent vertue, wherevnto we lacke a name in englyshe. Wherfore I am cōstrained to vsurpe a latin worde, callynge it Maturitie, whiche worde though it be strange and darke, yet by de­claryng the vertue in a few mo wordes, the name ones brought in custome, shall be as easy to vnderstande as other wordes late comen out of Italy and Fraunce, and made denysens amonge vs.

¶ Maturitie is a mean betwene two extre Matnritie. mities, wherin nothynge lacketh or exce­deth, and is in such astate, that it may ney­ther encrease nor minysshe without losinge [Page 81] the denomiation of Maturitie. The gre­kes in a prouerbe do expresse it proprely in [...] two wordes, whiche I can none otherwise [...] interprete in englysh, but spede the slowly.

¶ Also of this worde Maturitie, sprange [...]. a noble and precious sentence, recyted by Festin [...] lente. Salust in the battayle agayn Catiline, whi­che is in this maner or lyke, Cōsulte before thou enterprise any thynge, and after thou Prius (que) in cipias cō ­sulto haste taken counsayle, it is expedient to do it maturely.

Maturum in latyn may be interpretid ripe Maturum. or redy: as fruite whan it is ripe, it is at the very poynt to be gathered and eaten. And euery other thynge, whan it is redye, it is at the instante after to be occupied. Ther­fore that worde maturitie, is translated to the actes of man, that whan they be doone with suche moderation, that nothing in the doinge may be sene superfluous or indigēt, we may say, that they be maturely doone: reseruyng the wordes rype & redy, to frute and other thiges seperate from affaires, as we haue now in vsage. And this do I now remembre for the necessary augmentation of our langage.

¶ In the excellent & most noble emperour Octauius Augustus, in whome reygned all nobilitie, nothinge is more cōmended, than that he had frequently in his mouthe this [Page] worde Matura, do maturelly. As he shulde haue sayde, do neyther to moche ne to litle, to soone ne to late, to swyftely nor slowely, but in due tyme and measure.

¶ Nowe I trust I haue sufficiently expoū ­ded the vertue called Maturitie, which is the meane or mediocritie betwene slouthe and celeritie, communely called spedinesse: and so haue I declared, what vtilitie maye be taken of a braule in daunsynge.

The thyrde and fourthe braunches of prudence. Capitu. xxiii.

THe thyrde motion, called singles, is of two vnities seperate in pasinge forwarde: Singles in daūsing. by whom maye be sygnifyed prouidence and industry, whiche after eue­ry thynge maturely achieued, as is before written, maketh the firste pase forwarde in daunsynge. But it shall be expedient to ex­pounde, what is the thynge called Prouy­dence, for as moch as it is not knowen to e­uery man.

¶ Prouidence is, wherby a man not onely Pronidēce what it is. foreseeth commodytie and incommoditye, prosperitie and aduersitie, but also consul­teth, and there with endeuoureth as well to repell anoyaunce, as to attayne and get profite and aduauntage. And the difference [Page 82] betwene it and consideration is, that consi­deration Cōsidera­tion what it is. onely consisteth in pondering and examinyng thinges, cōceiued in the mynd: Prouidence in helpynge them with coun­sayle and acte. wherfore to consyderation pertayneth excogitation and auysement, to prouydence, prouisyon and execution. For lyke as the good husbande, whan he hath sowen his grounde, setteth vp cloughtes or thredes, whiche some call shailes, some blēchars, or other lyke shewes, to feare a­way byrdes, whiche he foreseeth redye to deuoure and hurte his corne, also percey­uynge the improfytable weedes appering, which wyll anoy his corne or herbes, forth with wedeth thē clene out of his ground, and wylle nat suffre them to growe or en­crease. Semblably, it is the parte of a wyse man, to foresee and prouyde, that eyther in suche thinges, as he hath acquired by his study or diligence, or in suche affaires ás he hath in hande, he be nat indomaged or em­peched by his aduersaries.

¶ In lyke maner a gouernour of a publyke weale ought to ꝓuide as well by menaces, as by sharpe and terrible punysshementes, that persons yuell and vnprofitable, do nat corrupte and deuoure his good subiectes. Fynally there is in prouydence such an ad­myration and maiestie, that nat onely it is, [Page] attributed to kinges and rulers, but also to god creatour of the worlde.

¶ Industrie hath nat ben so longe tyme v­sed Industry. in the englyshe tonge, as Prouydence: wherfore it is the more strange, and requi­reth the more plain exposition. It is a qua­litie, procedyng of wytte and experiēce, by the whiche a man perceyueth quickely, in­nenteth freshely, and counsayleth spedily: wherfore they that be called Industrious, do most craftely and depely vnderstande in al affayres, what is expedient, and by what meanes & wayes, they may sonest exployte them. And those thinges, in whome other men trauayle, a person industrious lyghtly and with facilitie spedeth, and findeth new wayes and meanes to bryng to effecte that he desyreth.

¶ Amonge dyuers other remēbred in hy­stories, suche one amonge the grekes was Alcibiades, who beynge in chyldehoode Alcibia­des. mooste amyable of all other, and of moste subtile wytte, was instructed by Socrates. The saide Alcibiades, by the sharpenes of his wyt, the doctrine of Socrates, and by his owne experience in sondry affaires in the cōmune weale of the Athenienses, be­came soo industrious, that were it good or yuel that he enterprised, nothing almost es­caped that he acheued nat, were the thing [Page 83] neuer so difficyle (or as who sayth) impeni­trable: and that many sondrye thinges, as well for his countrey, as also again it, after that, he for his inordinate pryde and leche­ry, was out of Athenes exyled.

¶ Among the Romains, Caius Iulius Ce Iul. Cesar. sar, which firste toke vpon hym the perpe­tuall rule and gouernaunce of the empire, is a noble exaumple of industrie, for in his incomparable warres, and busynes almost incredible, he dydde nat onely excogitate most excellēt pollycies and deuyses, to vā ­quyshe or subdewe his ennemyes, but also prosecuted them with suche celeritie and effecte, that diuers and many times he was in the campe of his ennemyes, or at the ga tes of their townes, or fortresses, whanne they supposed, that he and his hooste had ben two days iourney from thens, leauing to them no tyme or leysure, to consulte or prepare ageyne hym sufficient resistence.

And ouer that, this qualitie, INDVSTRIE, so reigned in him, that he hym selfe wolde ministre to his secretaries at one tyme and instant, the cōtentes of thre sondry epistles or letters. Also it is a thynge wonderfulle to remembre, that he being a prince of the moste auncient and noble house of the Ro­maynes, and frome the tyme that he came to mans astate, almoste continually in war­res, [Page] also of glorie insatiable, of courage in­uincible: coulde in affaires of suche impor­taunce and difficultie, or (whiche is moche more to be meruayled at nowe) wolde soo exactly write the hystory of his owne actis and gestes: that for the natiue & inimitable eloquence, in expressing the coūsailes, deuises, conuentiōs, progressions, enterprises, exploitures, fourmes, and sacions of imba­taylynge, he seemeth to put all other wry­ters of lyke matters to sylence.

¶ Here is the perfect paterne of industry, which I trust shall suffyce to make the pro­pre signification therof, to be vnderstād of the reders. And consequentely to incense thē to apꝓch to the true practising therof.

¶ So is the sengles declared in these two qualities, Prouidēce and Industrie, which seriousely noted, and often remēbred of the daunsers and beholders, shall acquire to them no lytel fruite and cōmoditie, if there be in their myndes any good and laudable matter for vertue to warke in.

¶ Of the fifte braunche called circumspe­ction, shewed in reprinse. Cap. xxiii.

COmmonly next after singles in daū ­sing Reprinse in daūsing. is a reprinse, whiche is one mo­uyng only, puttynge backe the right [Page 84] fote to his felowe: And that may be welle called circūspection, whiche sygnyfieth as moche, as beholdynge on euery part, what is well and sufficiente, what lacketh, howe, and from whens it may be prouided: Also what hath caused profyte or damage in the tyme passed, what is the astate of the time present, what aduauntage or perylle maye succede, or is immynent. And bycause in it is conteyned a delyberation, in hauyng re­garde to that that foloweth, and is also of affinytie with prouydence and industrie, I make hym in the fourme of a retreate. In this motion a man may, as it were on a moū tayne or place of espiall, beholde on eue­ry syde farre of, measurynge and estemyng euery thyng: and eyther pursewe it, if it be commendable, or eschewe it, yf it be noy­ful. This qualitie (lyke as prouydence and industre be) is a braunche of Prudence, whiche some call the pryncesse of vertues: and it is nat onely expedient, but also nede­full to euery astate and degree of men, that do contynue in the lyfe called actiue.

¶ In the Iliados of Homere, the noble Nestor. duke Nestor, a mā of meruaylous eloquēce and long experience, as he that lyued thre mennes lyues, as he there auanteth, in the counsayle that he gaue to Agamemnon, to reconcile to him Achilles, the most stronge [Page] and valyant man of all the grekes, he per­suaded Agamemnon specially to be circū ­specte, declarynge, howe that the pryuate contention betwene them, shuld replenishe the hooste of the Grekes with moche do­lour: wherat kyng Priamus and his chyl­dren shulde laughe, and the resydue of the Troyanes in their mindes, should reioyce and take courage.

¶ Among the Romayns Quintus Fabius Fabius. for this qualitie is soueraignely extolled a­monge historiens: and for that cause he is often times called of them Fabius cūctator, that is to say, the tarier or delayer. For in the warres betwene the Romayns and Anniball, he knowynge all costes of the coun­tray, contynuelly kept him and his host on mountaines and high places, within a small distaunce of Hanniballes armie: so that nei­ther he wolde flee from his enmies, nor yet ioyne with them battayle. By which won­derfull policie, he caused Annibal so to tra­uayle, that some tyme for lacke of vittayle, and for werynesse, great multitudes of his hoste perished. Also he oftentymes awai­ted them in dangerous places, vnredy, and than skyrmyshed with theym, as longe as he was sure to haue of theym aduauntage: and after he repayred to the hyghe places adioynyng, vsyng his accustomed maner to [Page 85] beholde the passage of Anniballe. And by this meanes, this moste circumspect capi­tayn Fabius, wonderfully infeblyd the po­war of the sayd Anniball, which is no lasse estemed in praise, thā the subduing of Car­tage by the valyant Scipio. For yf Fabius had nat so fatigate Anniball and his hoste, he had shortly subuerted the cite of Rome, and than coulde nat Scipio haue bene able to acheue that enterprise.

¶ What more clere mirror or spectacle can King Hēry the seueth. we desire of circūspectiō, thā king HENRY the SEVENTH, of most noble memorie, fa­ther vnto our moste drad soueraigne lorde, whose worthy renome, like the sonne in the myddes of his sphere, shyneth & euer shall shyne in mennes remembrance? what incō ­parable circumspection was in him alwaye founden, that nat withstandynge his longe absence out of this realme, the disturbance of the same by sondrye seditions amonge the Nobilitie, Ciuile warres and batayles, wherin infinite people were slayne, beside skirmysshes and slaughters in the pryuate contentions and factions of dyuers gentil­men, the lawes layde in water (as is the ꝓ­uerbe) affection & auaryce, subduing iustice & equitie: Yet by his moste excellent witte, he in fewe yeres, nat onely broughte this realme in good order, and vnder due obe­diēce, [Page] reuiued the lawes, auanced Iustyce, refurnyshed his dominyons, and repayred his manours, but also with suche circum­spection treated with other princis and re­almes, of leages, of aliaunce, and amities, that durynge the more part of his reigne, he was lytle or nothyng inquieted without warre hostilitie or martiall busynesse. And yet all other princis eyther feared hym, or had him in a fatherly reuerence. Whyche prayse with the honour thervnto dewe, as inheritaunce discendeth by ryght vnto his moste noble sonne, our most dere souerayn lorde that nowe presently reigneth. For as Tulli sayth, The best inheritance, that the fathers leaue to their children, excelling al other patrimonie, is the glorie or prayse of vertue and noble actis: and of suche fayre inheritance his highnes may cōpare with any prynce that euer reygned, whyche he dayly augmenteth, adding therto other sō ­dry vertues, whyche I forbeare nowe to reherse, to the intent I wyll exclude all su­spition of flatterie, sens I my selfe in this warke doo specially reproue it. But that whiche is presently knowen, and is in experience nedeth no monument. And vnto so excellēt a prince, there shal nat lacke herafter condigne writers to register his actes, with eloquent stile in perpetual remēbrāce.

Of the sixte seuenth and eyght braun­ches of prudence. Cap. xxv.

ADouble in daunsynge is compacte of the nombre of thre, wherby maye be noted these thre branches of prudence, election, experience, and modestie: by theym the sayde vertue of prudence is made complete, and is in her perfection. Election is of an excellente power and au­toritie, and hath suche a maiestie, that she wyll not be approched vnto of euery man. For some there be, to whom she denyeth her presence, as chyldren, naturall fooles, men beinge frantike, or subdued with affe­ctes, also they that be subiectes to flaterers and proude men. In these persones reason lacketh libertie, which shuld prepare their entrie vnto election. This Election, whi­che Election. is a parte, and as it were a membre of prudence, is beste described by Oportuni­tie, Oportu­nitie. whiche is the principall parte of coun­saylle, and is compacte of these thynges folowynge.

¶ The importaunce of the thynge consul­ted, The facultie and power of him that cō sulteth, The time whan, The fourme how, The substance wherwith to do it, The dis­position and vsages of the countreys, For whom and agayne whom it oughte to be [Page] done. Al these thynges prepensed and ga­thered together seriousely, and after a due examination, euery of them iustly pondred in the balance of reason. Immediately co­meth the auctoritie of election, who taketh on her to appoynt, what is to be effectually folowed or pursued, reiectinge the refidue. And than ought experience to be at hande, to whom is commytted the actual executi­on. Experiēce or executiō For without her, Election is frustrate, and all inuention of manne is but a fantasye. And therfore who aduisedlye beholdethe the astate of mans lyfe, shall well perceiue, that al that euer was spoken or writen, was to be executed, and to that intēt was speche specially gyuen to man, wherin he is moste dyscrepante, from brute beastes, in decla­ringe by them what is good, what vicious, what is profitable, what improfitable, whi­che by clerenesse of wytte do excel in knowlege, to these that be of a more inferior ca­pacitie. And what vtilitie shulde be acquy­red by suche declaration, if it shulde not be experienced with diligence?

¶ The philosopher Socrates had not ben Socrates. named of Appollo the wisest man of al Grecia, if he had not dayly practysed the ver­tues, whiche he in his lessons commended.

¶ Iulius Cacsar, the fyrste emperour, al Iul. Cesar. thoughe, there were in hym moche hydde [Page 87] lernyng, in so moche as he fyrst founde the order of our kalandre, with the Cikle and bysexte, called the leape yere: Yet is he not so moche honoured for his lernynge, as he is for his diligence, wherwith he exploited or brought to conclusion those counsayles, whiche as wel by his excellent lerning and wisedome, as by the aduise of other expert counsaylours were before trayted, and (as I mought say) ventilate.

¶ Who wyl not repute it a thing vayne and scornefulle, and more lyke to a maye game, than a mater seriouse or commendable, to beholde a personage, whiche in speche or writynge expresseth nothyng but vertuous maners, sage and dyscrete counsayles and holy aduertisementes: to be resolued in to all vices, folowynge in his actis no thynge that he hym selfe in his wordes approueth and teacheth to other?

¶ Who shal any thynge esteme theyr wyse­dome, which with great studies fynde out remedies and prouisiōs necessary for thin­gss dysordred or abused, and where they them selfes may execute it, they leaue it vn­touched, wherby theyr deuyses, with the soune that pronounced them, be vanysshed and come to nothynge?

¶ Semblably it is to be thoughte in all o­ther doctrine. Wherfore as it semed, it was [Page] not without consideratiō affirmed by Tul­li, that the knowlege and contemplation of Natures operatyons, were lame and in a maner imperfcte, if there folowed none a­ctuall experience. Of this shalbe more spo­ken in the later ende of this warke.

¶ Herwith wolde be conioyned or rather Modestie. myxte with it, the vertue called Modestie: whiche by Tulli is defined to be the know Offi. i. lege of oportunitie of thynges to be doone or spoken, in apoyntinge and settinge them in tyme or place to them conuenient & pro­pre. Wherfore it semeth, to be moche lyke to that, whiche men cōmunely call Dyscre­tion. Discretiō. Al be it discretio in latin signifieth Se­peration: wherin it is more lyke to Electi­on. But as it is communely vsed, it is not onely lyke to Modestie, but it is the selfe Modestie. For he that forbereth to speke, all thoughe he can doo it bothe wysely and eloquentely, bycause neyther in the tyme nor in the herers, he findeth oportunitie, so that no fruite maye succede of his speche, he therfore is vulgarely called a dyscrete personne.

¶ Semblably they name him discrete, that Discrete. punisheth an offendour lesse than his meri­tes doo requyre, hauynge regarde to the weakenes of his persone, or to the aptenes of his amendement.

[Page 88] ¶ So do they in the vertue called Libera­litie, Liberalite where in gyuynge, is had consydera­tion, as well of the condition, and necessy­te of the persone that receyueth, as of the benefite that cometh of the gifte receyued. In euery of these thynges and theyr sem­blable, is Modestie: which worde not be­inge knowen in the englyshe tongue, ne of all them whiche vnderstode latine, excepte they had red good auctours, they impro­prely named this vertue dyscrecion. And nowe some men do as moch abuse the word Modestie abused. modestie, as the other dyd dyscretion. For if a man haue a sad countenaunce at all ty­mes, and yet not being meued with wrath, but pacient, and of moste gentyllnesse, they whiche wolde be sene to be lerned, wyl say that the man is of a great modestie. Where they shulde rather saye, that he were of a great Mansuetude: whiche terme beynge Mansue­tude. semblably before this tyme vnknowen in our tongue, maye be by the sufferaunce of wise men, now receiued by custome, wher­by the terme shall be made famyliare. That like as the Romaynes translated the wise­dome of Grecia into theyr citie, we maye, if we lyste, bringe the lernynges and wyse­domes of theym bothe into this realme of Englande, by the translation of theyr war­kes, sens lyke enterprise hath ben taken by [Page] frenche men, Italyons, and Germaynes, to our no lyttel reproche for our negligēce and slouth.

¶ And thus I conclude the laste parte of daunsynge, whiche dilygentely beholden, shall appere to be as well a necessary study, as a noble and vertuouse pastime, vsed and contynued in suche fourme as I hytherto haue declared.

Of other exercises, whiche if they be mo­derately vsed, be to euery astate of man expedient. Cap. xxvi.

I Haue shewed howe huntyng and daun­synge may be in the nombre of commen­dable exercises, and passetymes, not re­pugnanute to vertue. And vndoubted, it were moche better to be occupyed in ho­neste recreation, than to do nothynge. For it is sayde of a noble autour, In doinge no­thynge, men lerne to do yuell. And Ouidi­us the poete sayth,

¶ It is not onelye called idlenes, wherin the body or mynde cesseth from labour, but specially idlenes is an omission of all honest exercise: the other maye be better called a vacation from seryouse busynesse, whiche [Page 89] was some tyme embraced of wyse men and vertuous.

¶ It is writen to the praise of Xerxes king Kyng Xer­xes. of Persia, that in tyme vacaunt from the af­faires of his realme, he with his owne hā ­des had planted innumerable trees, which longe or he died brought forthe abundance of fruite, and for the craftie and dylectable ordre in the settynge of them, it was to all men, beholdynge the princis industrye, ex­cedynge maruaylous.

¶ But who abhorreth not the hystorye of Sardana­palus. Serdanapalus, kynge of the same realme? whiche hauynge in detestation all princely affaires, and leuyng al company of men, en­closed him selfe in a chamber with a greate multitude of concubynes: and for that he wold seme to be some time occupied, or els that wanton pleasures and quyetnesse be­came to hym tedyouse, he was founde by one of his lordes in a womans attyre spyn­nynge in a distafe amonge persones defa­med, whiche knowen abrode, was to the people so odiouse, that fynally by them he was burned, with all the place wherto he fledde for his refuge.

¶ And I suppose there is not a more plain Playing at dise. fygure of idelnesse, than play inge at dyse. For besides, that therin is no maner of ex­ercyse of the body or mynde, they whiche [Page] playe therat, muste seme to haue no porti­on of wyt or kunnynge, if they wyll be cal­led fayre players, or in some cōpany auoide the stabbe of a dagger, if they be takē with any crasty conueyaunce. And by cause al­waye wysedome is therin suspected, there is seldome any playinge at dyse, but therat is vehement chydyng and braulynge, hor­rible othes, cruell, and some tyme mortall menacis. I omytte strokes, whiche nowe and than do happen, often tymes betwene bretherne and most dere frendes, if fortune brynge alwaye to one man yuell chaunces, whiche maketh the playe of the other sus­pected. O why shulde that be called a play, whiche is compacte of malyce and robry? Undoubtedly they that wryte of the fyrste inuentions of thinges, haue good cause to suppose Lucifer, prince of diuels, to be the firste inuentour of dyse playing, & helle the place where it was foundē, although some do write, that it was first inuēted by Attalꝰ. For what better allectiue coulde Lucyfer deuyse to allure and bringe men pleasantly into damnable seruitude, than to pourpose to them in fourme of a playe, his principall The trea­sory of Lucifer. treasory, wherin the more parte of synne is contained, and all goodnes and vertue cō ­founded?

¶ The first occasion to play, is tediousnes [Page 90] of vertuous occupation: Immediately suc­cedeth couaytynge of an other mans goo­des, whiche they call playinge: therto is annexed auarice and strayte kepynge, whi­che they call wynnynge: sone after cometh sweryng, in rentinge the membres of god, whiche they name noblenesse (for they wyl saye, he that swereth depe, swereth lyke a lorde) than foloweth fury or rage, whiche they call courage: among them cometh in­ordinate watche, whiche they name paine­fulnesse: he bryngeth in glotony, and that is good felowshyp: & after cometh slepe su­persluous, called among them naturall rest: and he some tyme bringeth in lechery: whi­che is nowe named daliance. The name of this treasory is veryly idelnesse: the doore wherof is left wyde open to dyse players: if they happe to brynge, in theyr company, lernyng, vertuous busines, liberalitie, pa­ciencie, charitie, temperance, good diete, or shamefastnes, they muste leaue them with­out the gates. For yuell custome, which is Il custome the porter, wyll not suffre them to entre.

¶ Alas what pite is it, that any christen mā shulde by wanton company be trayned, I wyl no more saye into this Treasory, but in to this lothesome dungeon, where he shall lye fetored in chaynes of ignoraunce, and bounden with the stronge chayne of obsti­nacie, [Page] harde to be losed but by grace?

¶ The most noble emperour Octauiꝰ Au­gustus, who hath amonge writers in diuers of his actes an honorable remembraunce: onely for playinge at dyse, and that but sel­dome, susteyneth in hystories a note of re­proche.

¶ The Lacedemoniens sent an ambassade Counsail­lors disers to the citie of Corinthe, to haue with them aliance: but whan the ambassadours founde the princis and counsaylours playenge at dyse, they departed without exploytynge their message, sayenge, that they wold not maculate the honour of theyr people with suche a reproche, to be saide, that they had made aliaunce with disars.

¶ Also to Demetrius, the kynge of Par­thians sente golden dyse, in the rebuke of his lytenesse.

¶ Euery thynge is to be estemed after his value. But who herynge a man, whom he The esti­mation of dysars. knoweth not, to be called a dysar, doth not anone suppose him to be of lyght credence, dyssolute, vayne, and remisse? who almoost trusteth his brother, whom he knoweth a dyse player? yea amonge them selfes they laughe, whan they perceyue or here any doctrine or vertuouse worde procede from any of theyr companyons, thynkyge that it becometh not his persone: moche more [Page 91] whan he doth any thynge with deuotion or wysdome.

¶ Howe many gentyll menne, howe many marchauntes, haue in this damnable passe­tyme consumed theyr substaunce, as well by theyr owne labours, as by theyr paren­tes, with greatte study and peynefull tra­uayle in a longe tyme acquyred, and fynis­shed theyr lyfes in dette and penury? How manye goodly and bolde yemenne hath it broughte vnto thefte, wherby they haue preuented the course of nature, and dyed by the ordre of lawes myserably? These be the fruites and reuennues of that dyuy­lyshe marchaundyse, besyde the fynall re­warde, whiche is more terryble, the re­porte wherof I leaue to dyuines, suche as feare not to shewe theyr lernynges, or fille not theyr mouthes so full with swete mea­tes, or benefyces, that theyr tonges be not let to speke trouth: for that is theyr duetie and office, excepte I with many other be moche dysceyued.

¶ Playinge at cardes and tables is some Cardes & Tables. what more tollerable, onely for as moch as therin wytte is more vsed, and lesse truste is in fortune, all be it therin is neyther lau­dable study nor exercise. But yet men deli­tynge in vertue, moughte with cardes and tables deuyse games, where in moughte be [Page] moche solace and also study commodiouse, as deuising a bataile, or contentiō betwene vertue and vice, or other lyke pleasant and honest inuention.

¶ The chesse of al games, wherin is no bo dily exercise, is most to be commended, for Chess. therin is ryght subtile engine, wherby the wit is made more sharpe, and remembrance quickened. And it is the more commenda­ble and also cōmodious, if the players haue red the moralization of the chesse, and whā they playe do thynke vpon it: whiche bo­kes be in englysh. But they be very scarse, bicause fewe men do seeke in plaies for ver tue or wysedome.

That shotinge in a longe bowe is principal of all other exercises. Cap. xxvii.

TUlli saith in his first boke of Officis, We be not to that intente broughte vp by nature, that we shulde seme to be made to playe and dysport, but rather to grauitie and studyes of more estymation. Wherfore it is writen of Alexander, empe­roure of Rome for his grauitie called Se­uerus, that in his chyldehode, and before he was taughte the letters of greeke or la­tine, he neuer exercysed any other playe or game, but onely one, wherin was a sy­mylitude [Page 92] of Iustice: and therfore it was called in latine Ad Iudices, whiche is in en­glyshe to the iuges. But the fourme ther­of is not expressed by the saide auctour, nor none other that I haue yet red. Wherfore I wyll repaire againe to the residue of ho­nest exercise.

¶ And for as moche as Galene in his se­conde Exercise for preser­uynge of helthe. booke of the preseruation of helthe, declareth to be in them these qualities or dyuersyties, that is to saye, that somme be done with extendynge of myghte, and as it were vyolentely, and that is called valy­aunte exercyse: Some with swyfte or ha­sty motion, other with strengthe and cele­rytie, and that maye be called vehemente: The partycular kyndes of euery of them, he describeth, whiche were to longe here to be rehersed

¶ But in as moche as he also saythe, that he that is of good astate in his body, ought to know the power and effect of euery ex­ercyse: but he nedethe not to practise any other, but that whiche is moderate and meane betwene euery extremytie: I wyll now brefely declare, in what exercise nowe in custume amonge vs, maye be most found of that medyocritie, and maye be augmen­ted or mynysshed, at the pleasure of hym that doth exercyse, without therby appay­payrynge [Page] any parte of dilectation or com­moditie therof procedynge.

¶ And in mine oppinion none may be com­pared The com­mendation of shoting in a longe bowe. with shootynge in the longe bowe, and that for sondrye vtylytyes that come therof, wherin it incomparably excelletly all other exercyse. For in drawynge of a bowe, easy and congruent to his strength, he that shooteth, doth moderately exercise his armes, and the other parte of his bo­dy: and if his bowe be bygger, he muste adde to more strengthe, wherin is no lesse valiaunt exercise than in any other, wherof Galene writeth.

¶ In shootynge at buttes, or brode arowe markes, is a mediocritie of exercyse of the lower partes of the bodye and legges, by goinge a lyttel dystaunce a mesurable pase. At rouers or pryckes, it is at his pleasure that shoteth, howe faste or softly he lysteth to go: and yet is the prayse of the shooter, neyther more ne lesse, for as farre or nyghe the marke is his arowe, whanne he goeth softly, as whan he renneth.

¶ Tenyse, selledome vsed, and for a lyttell Tenyse. space, is a good exercise for yong men, but it is more violent than shotynge, by reason that two men do play. Wherfore neyther of them is at his owne libertie to measure the exercyse. For if the one stryke the balle [Page 93] harde, the other that intendeth to receyue hym, is than constrayned to vse semblable vyolence, if he wyll retourne the bal from whens it came to hym. If it trille faste on the grounde, and he intendeth to stoppe, or if it rebounde a greatte dystaunce from hym, and he wolde eftesones returne it, he can not than kepe any measure in swyftnes of mocion.

¶ Some men wolde say, that in mediocri­tie, whiche I haue soo moche praysed in shootynge, why shuld not bouling, claishe, pynnes, and koytynge, be as moche com­mended? Ueryly as for two the laste, be to be vtterly abiected of all noble men, in lyke wyse foote balle, wherin is nothynge but beastely fury, and extreme violence, wher­of procedeth hurte, and consequently ran­cour and malice do remayn with them that be wounded. Wherfore it is to be put in per petuall sylence.

¶ In claysse is employed to littel strength, in boulynge often tymes to moche, wherby the sinewes be to moche strayned, and the veynes to moche chafed: wherof often ty­mes is sene to ensue ache, or the decreas of strength or agilitie in the armes, where, in shoting, if the shoter vse the strength of his bowe within his owne tiller, he shall neuer be therwith grieued or made more feble.

[Page] ¶ Also in shotyng is a double vtilitie, wher in it excellethe all other exercyses and ga­mes incomparably. The one is that it is, and alway hath ben, the most excellent ar­tillery for warres, wherby this realme of Englande hath ben nat only best defended from outwarde hostilitie, but also in other regions a fewe englyshe archers haue ben sene to preuayle agaynste people innume­rable. Also wonne inpreignable cities and stronge holdes, and kept them in the mid­des of the strength of their enemies. This is the feate, wherby englyshe men haue bē most dradde and had in estimation with out warde princis, as well ennemyes as alies. And the commoditie therof hath bene ap­proued as far as Hierusalem, as it shall ap­pere in the lyues of Rycharde the fyrst, & Edwarde the fyrste, kynges of Englande, who made seueral iourneis to recouer that holy citie of Hierusalem into the possession of christen men, and achieued them hono­rably, the rather by the power of this feate of shootynge.

¶ The premisses cōsidered, O what cause Decaye of Archers. of reproche shall the decay of archers be to vs nowe lyuyng? Ye what irrecuperable damage either to vs or them, in whose time nede of semblable defence shall happen? whyche decaye, though we alredy ꝑceiue, [Page 94] feare, and lament, & for the restoryng ther­of cesse not to make ordynaunces, good la­wes and statutes: yet who effectually put­teth his hande to contynuall execution of the same lawes and prouysyons? or behol­dynge them dayly broken, wynketh nat at the offendours? But I shall hereof more speake in an nother place, and retourne nowe to the seconde vtilitie, founde in sho­tynge in the longe bowe, whiche is kylling ofdere, wyld foule, and other game, wher­in is bothe profyte and pleasure aboue any other artyllery.

¶ And verily I suppose, that before cros­bowes and handgunnes were brought into this realme, by the sleight of our enemies, to thentent to distroy the noble defence of archery, contynuall vse of shotynge in the longe bowe made the feate so perfect and exacte amonge englishe men, that they thā as surely and soone kylled such game, whi­che they lysted to haue, as they nowe can do with the crossebowe or gunne. But this suffyseth, for the declaration of shootyng, wherby it is sufficientely proued, that it in­comparably excellethe all other exercyse, pastyme, or solace.

¶ And hereat I conclude to write of exercyse, whiche apperteyneth as wel to prin­cis and noble men, as to all other by theyr [Page] example: whiche determyne to passe forth their lyues in vertue & honestie: And here­after, with the assistence of god, vnto whō I render this myne account, for the talent that I haue of hym receyued, I purpose to wryte of the principal, and (as I mought say) the partycular studye and affayres of hym, that by the prouydence of God, is called to the mooste diffycult cure of a pu­blyke weale.

¶ What thynges he, that is elected or appoynted to be a gouernour of a publyke weale, ought to pre­meditate. Cap. I.

IN THE BOKE PRECE­dynge I haue (as I truste) sufficiently declared, as well what is to be called a verye and ryghte publyke weale, as also, that there shulde be therof one prince and souerayne aboue all other gouernours. And I haue also expressed my conceyte and opinion, touching nat only the studies, but also the exercyses cō ­cernynge the necessary education of noble [Page 95] men and other, called to the gouernance of a publyke weale, in suche fourme as by the noble example of their lyues, and the fruit therof commynge, the publyke weale that shal happen to be vnder their gouernance, shall nat fayle to be accounted happy, and the auctoritie on them to be emploied well and fortunately. Nowe wyl I treate of the preparation of suche personages, whan Prepara­tion of gouernours. they fyrst receiue any great dignite charge or gouernance of the weale publyke.

¶ FYRST SVCHE persons, being now ad­ulte, that is to say, passed their childehode, as wel in maners as in yeres, if for their v­tues and lernynge, they happe to be called to receyue any dignitie, they shulde fyrst a­moue al company from them, & in a secrete oratory or priuy chambre, by them selfe, as­semble al the powers of their wyttes, to remembre these .vii. artycles, whiche I haue not of myn owne heed deuysed, but gathe­red as well out of holy scripture, as out of the warkes of other excellent wryters of famous memorie, as they shall soone per­ceyue, whiche haue radde & pervsed good autours in greke and latine.

¶ Fyrst and aboue all thyng, let them con­sider, that from god only procedeth al ho­nour, The fyrste considera­tion of gouernours. And that neither noble progenie, succession, nor election be of suche force, that [Page] by them any astate or dignitie maye be soo stablyshed, that god beinge styred to ven­geāce, shall not shortly resume it, and per­chance translate it where it shall lyke hym. And for as moche as examples greatly do profytte in the stede of experyence, here shal it be necessary to remēbre the hystorye of Saul, whom god hym selfe elected to be the firste kynge of Israel, that where god commanded hym by the mouthe of Samu­el the prophet, that for as moch as the people Saul and Amalech. callyd Amalech, had resisted the chyl­dren of Israel, whan they firste departed from Egypte, he shulde therfore distroy al the countray, and slee men women and children, al beastis and cattel, and that he shuld nothing saue or kepe ther of. But Saul af­ter that he had vaynquyshed Amalech, and Disobedi­ence. taken Agag kynge ther of prysoner, he ha­uynge on hym compassion, saued his lyfe onely. Also he preserued the best oxen, ca­tell, and vestures, and all other thinge that was fayrest, and of mooste estimation, and wolde not consume it, accordynge as god had commaunded him, sayinge to Samuel, that the people kepte it to the entent, that they wolde make ther of to allmyghty god a solempne sacrifyce. But Samuel repro­uynge hym sayde, Better is Obedience, than Sacrifyce. with other wordes that [Page 96] do folowe in the hystorie. Fynally for that offence only, almighty god abiected Saul, that he shulde no more reigne ouer Israel: and caused Samuel forthewith to enoynte Dauid kynge, the yongest sonne of a pore man of Bethleem, named Isai, which was kepynge his fathers shepe.

¶ Sens for ones neglectyng the cōmand­ment of god, and that neyther naturall pi­tie, nor the intent to do sacrifice, with that which was saued mought excuse the trās­gressyon of goddis commaundement, nor mytigate his greuous displeasure: howe vigilant ought a christen man, being in au­ctoritie, howe vigilant (I saye) industrious and diligent ought he to be in the adminy­stration of a publyke weale? dredynge al­waye the wordes, that be spoken by eter­nall sapience to theym that be gouernours The wor­des of Sapience to [...]ouer­nours. Sapiencie of publyke weales, All power and vertue is gyuen of the lorde, that of all other is hyghest, who shall examyne youre dedes, and inserche youre thoughtes. For whan ye were the mynysters of his realme, ye iudged nat vpryghtely, ne obserued the lawe of Iustyce, nor ye walked nat accor­dynge to his pleasure. He shall shortely and terryblye appiere vnto you. For most harde and greuous iudgemente, shall be on theym, that haue rule ouer other. To [Page] the poore man mercy is graunted, but the great men shal suffre great turmentes. He that is lorde of all excepteth no persone, ne he shall feare the greatnes of any man, for he made as well the great as the small, and careth for euery of them equally. The strō ger or of more myghte is the persone: the stronger peyne is to hym immynent. Ther fore to you gouernours be these my wor­des, that ye maye lerne wysedome and falle nat.

¶ This notable sentence is nat only to be imprinted in the hartes of gouernours, but also to be oftentymes reuolued and called to remembrance.

¶ They shall nat thynke, howe moche honour The. [...]i. cō ­sideration. they receyue, but howe moche care & burdeyn. He they shall nat moche esteme their reuenues and treasure, considerynge that it is no buten or praye, but a laborious offyce and trauayle.

¶ Let them thynke, the greatter dominiō The third. they haue, that thereby they susteyne the more care and studye. And that therefore they must haue the lasse solace and pastime, and to sensuall pleasures lasse oportunitie.

¶ Also whan they behold their garmentis and other ornamentes, rych and precious, The .iiii. they shall thynke, what reproche were to them to surmount in that, whiche be other [Page 97] mennes warkes and nat theirs, and to be vanquyshed of a poore subiecte in sondrye vertues, wherof they theym selues be the artifycers.

¶ They that regarde them, of whom they The .v. haue gouernaunce, no more than shall ap­pertayn to their owne priuate cōmodities, they no better esteme them than other men dothe their horses & mules, to whom they employ no lasse labour and diligēce, not to the benefite of the sely beastis, but to their owne necessities and singular aduantage.

¶ The moste sure foundation of noble re­nome, The syxte. is a man to be of such vertues & qua­lities, as he desireth to be opēly published. For it is a faint prayse, that is gotten with feare, or by flaterars giuen, and the same is but fume, whiche is supported with silence prouoked by menacis.

¶ They shall also consyder, that by theyr The .vii. preeminence, they sit as it were on a pyller on the top of a mountayn, where al the people do beholde them, nat only in their open affaires, but also in their secrete pastymes, priuie dalyaunce, or other improfytable or wanton conditions, whiche sone be disco­uered by the conuersation of their mooste familyar seruantis, whiche do alwaye im­brace that study, wherin their mayster de­lyteth, accordynge to the sayinge of Iesus [Page] Sirach, As the iuge of the people is, so be his ministers: And suche as be the gouer­nours of the citie, such be the people. Whi­che sentence is confyrmed by sondry histo­ries. For Nero, Caligula, Domiciane, Cu­cius Commodus, Uarius Heliogabalus, monstruous emperours, nourished aboute them, rybaudes, and other voluptuouse ar­tifycers.

¶ Maximianus, Dioclesian, Maxencius, and other persecutours of christen men, lac ked not inuentours of cruell and terryble tourmentes.

¶ Contrary wyse, reigning the noble Au­gustus, Nerua, Traiane, Hadriane, the two Antonines, and the wonderfull empe­rour Alexander, for his grauitie called Se­uerus, the imperiall palayce was alway re­plenished with eloquent oratours, delecta­ble poetes, wyse philosophers, moste cun­nynge and experte lawyars, prudente and valiaunte capitaynes.

¶ Mo semblable examples shall here of be founden, by them which purposely do rede histories, whom of all other I most desyre to be princis and gouernours.

¶ These articles wel and substācially gra­uen in a noble mannes memory, it shall also be necessary to cause them to be delectably writen and sette in a table within his bedde [Page 98] chambre, addyng to, the versis of Claudi­ane the noble poet, which he wrate to Ho­norius emperour of Rome, The versis I haue translated out of latine into englshe, nat obseruynge the order as they stande, but the sentence belonging to my purpose.

¶ The table of gouernours to be hanged in their chambres.

¶ These verses of Claudiane, ful of excel­lent wisedomes, as I haue sayd, wold be in a table, in suche a place as a gouernor ones in a day may behold them, specially as they be expressed in latine by the sayd poete, vn­to whose eloquence no translation in eng­lyshe maye be equiualent. But yet were it better to can them by harte, ye and if they were made in the fourme of a dytie, to be songen to an instrumente, O what a sweete songe wold it be in the eares of wyse men? For a meane musitian mought ther of make a ryght pleasant harmonie, where almoste euery note shuld expresse a counsayle ver­tuous or necessary.

¶ Ye haue nowe hard, what premeditatiōs be expedient before that a man take on him the gouernāce of a publyke weale. These notable premeditations and remembrāces shulde be in his mynde, whiche is in aucto­rytie often tymes renewed. Than shall he [Page 99] procede further in furnishynge his person, with honourable maners and qualytyes, wher of very nobilitie is cōpacte, wherby all other shall be induced to honour, loue, and feare hym, whiche thinges chiefely do cause perfect obedience.

¶ Now of these maners wil I write in such order, as in my conceyt they be (as it were) naturally disposed and sette in a noble man, and soonest in hym noted or espied.

The exposition of maiestie. Cap. II.

IN a gouernour or man, hauing in the pu­blike weale some greatte authoritie, the fountayne of all excellent maners is ma­iestie, whiche is the holle proportion and fygure of noble astate, and is proprelye a beautie or comelynesse in his countenance, langage and gesture, apt to his dignite, and accommodate to tyme, place, and compa­ny, whiche lyke as the sonne doth his bea­mes, so dothe it caste on the beholders and herers a pleasaunt and terrible reuerence. In so moche as the wordes or countenan­ces of a noble manne, shulde be in the stede of a fyrme and stable lawe to his infery­ours. Yet is nat maiestie alwaye in haulte or fyerce countenance, nor in speche out­ragious or arrogante, but in honourable [Page] and sobre demeanure, deliberate and graue ꝓnunciation, wordes clene and facile, void of rudenes and dishonestie, without vayne or inordinate ianglynge, with suche an ex­cellent temperance, that he amonge an in­finite nombre of other persons, by his ma­iestie may be espied for a gouernour.

¶ Wherof we haue a noble example in Homere of Ulisses, that whan his shyppe and Ulisses. menne were perysshed in the see, and he v­nethe escaped and was caste on lande vp­pon a cooste, where the inhabytauntes were called Pheacas, he beinge al naked, sauynge a mantell sent to hym by the kyn­ges doughter, without other apparaylle, or seruant, represented suche a wonderfull maiestie in his countenaunce and speche, that the kynge of the countrey, named Al­cinous, in that extreme calamitie, wysshed, that Ulisses wold take his doughter Nau­sicaa, to wyfe, with a great part of his tre­sure. And declarig the honour that he bare towarde hym, he made for his sake dyuers noble esbatementes and passetymes. The people also wondrynge at his maiestie, ho­noured hym with sondrye presentes. And at their propre charges and expensis, con­uayed hym into his owne realme of Itha­ca, in a shyppe of wonderfull beautie, well ordynaunced and manned for his defence [Page 100] & saufe conduct. The wordes of Alcinous, wherby he declareth the maiestie, that he noted to be in Ulisses, I haue putte in eng­lishe, nat so well as I found them in greke.

¶ Alcinous to Ulisses.

¶ The estimatyon of maiestie in counte­naunce, shall be declared by two examples nowe ensuynge.

¶ To Scipio, beinge in his manour place, called Linternū, came dyuers great theues and pyrates, only to the intent to se his persone, of whose wonderfulle prowesse and sondry vyctories they harde the renoume. But he nat knowynge, but that they came to endomage hym, armed hym selfe and suche seruauntes as he than hadde with him, and dysposed theym aboute the imbatyl­mentes of his house, to make defence, whiche the capytaynes of the theues percey­uyng, despeched the multitude from them, and layinge aparte their harneis and wea­pons, [Page] called to Scipio with a loude voyce, sayinge that they came nat as enemyes, but wondrynge at his vertue and prowesse, de­sired only to see him, whiche if he vouched saufe, they wolde accounte for an heuenly benefyte. That being shewed to Scipio by his seruauntes, he caused the gaates to be sette wide open, and the theues to be suffe­red to entre: who kyssynge the gates and postes with moche reuerence, as they had bene of a Temple or other place dedicate, humbly approched to Scipio, whyche vy­saged theym in suche fourme, that they as subdued with a reuerente drede, in behol­dynge his maiestie, at the last ioyfully kys­sing his hande oftentymes, which he beni­gnely offred to theym, made humble reue­rence, and so departed, laying in the porch semblable offrynges, as they gaue to theyr goddes: And forth with retourned to their owne habitatiōs, reioysing incredibly, that they had sene and touched a prince so no­ble and valyant.

¶ It is no lyttell thyng to meruayle at, the maiestie shewed in extreme fortune and mysery. The noble Romayne Marius, whan he had ben .vii. tymes Consul, being vayn­guyshed by Scilla, after that he had longe hyd him selfe in marises and desert places, was fynally constrayned by famyne to re­paire [Page 101] to a towne called Minturne, where he trusted to haue ben succoured. But the inhabitantes, dreding the cruelte of Scilla, toke Marius, and put hym into a dongeon, And after sente to slee hym their commune hangeman: whiche was borne in Cimbria, a countrey somtime distroyed by Marius. The hangman, beholdyng the honourable porte and maiestie, that remayned in Ma­rius, nat withstandynge that he was out of honorable apparayle, and was in garmētes torne and fylthy, he thought that in his vy­sage appered the terrible battayle, wherin Marius vanquyshed his coūtray men: he therfore all tremblynge, as constrayned by feare, dydde lette falle out of his hande the swerde, wherwith he shoulde haue slayne Marius, and leuing him vntouched, fledde oute of the place. The cause of his feare reported to the people, they meued with reuerence, afterwarde studied and deuysed howe they mought delyuer Marius from the malyce of Scilla.

¶ In Augustus, emperour of Rome, was a natiue maiestie. For as Suetomꝰ writeth, from his eien proceded rayes or beames, whyche perced the eien of the beholders. The same emperour spake seldom openly, but out of a comentarie, that is to say, that he had before prouided and wryten, to the [Page] intente that he wold speke no more ne lasse than he had purposed.

¶ More ouer, towarde the acquiringe of maiestie, thre thinges be required in the o­ration of a man hauyng autoritie, that it be compendious, sententious, and delectable: hauynge also respect to the tyme whan, the place where, and the persones to whom it is spoken. For the wordes perchance apte for a bankette or tyme of solace, be nat cō ­mendable in tyme of consultation or seruice of god. That langage that in the chambre is tollerable, in place of iugement or great assembly is nothinge cōmendable.

¶ Of apparayle belongynge to a noble man beinge a gouernour or great counsaylour. Cap. iii.

APparayle may be well a part of ma­iestie. For as there hath ben euer a discrepance of vesture of youth and age, men and womenne, and our lorde god ordeyned the apparayle of priestis distinct frome seculars, as it appereth in holy scri­pture: also the gentyles had of auncyente tyme sondry apparayle to sondrye astates, as to the senate, and dignities called ma­gistrates, And what enormitie shoulde hit nowe be thought and a thing to laughe at, [Page 102] to se a iuge or sergeāt at the lawe in a short coote garded and pounced after the galy­arde fation, or an apprentyse of the lawe or pleder, come to the barre with a myllayne or frenche bonette on his heed, sette full of aglettes? So is there apparayle comely to euery astate and degree, and that whiche excedeth or lacketh, procureth reproche, in a noble man specially. For apparaile sim­ple or scant reprouethe hym of auarice. If it be alwaye excedynge precious and often tymes chaunged, as well in to charge as straunge and newe facions, it causeth hym to be noted dyssolute of maners.

¶ The moste noble emperours of Rome, Augustus, Traiane, Hadriane, Antonine, Seuerus, and Alexander, whiche were of al other incomparable in honorable lyuing, vsed a dyscrete moderation in theyr appa­rayle, all though they were greatte empe­rours and gentyles. Howe moche more ought than christen men, whose denomina­tion is founded on humilitie, and they that be not of the estate of pryncis, to shewe a moderation and constaunce in vesture, that they diminysshe noo part of theyr maiestie, eyther with newe fanglenesse, or with ouer sumptuous expences, and yet may this last be suffred, where there is a great assembly of straungers: for than some tyme it is ex­pediente, [Page] that a noble man, in his aparayle, do aduaunce hym selfe to be bothe ryche and honourable. But in this as wel as in o­ther partes of maiestie, tyme is to be high­ly consydered.

¶ Semblable deckinge oughte to be in the Hāgynges and plate mete for a noble mā. house of a noble man, or manne of honour. I meane concernynge ornamentes of halle and chambres, in Aryse, paynted tables, and images couteynynge histories, wherin is represented some monumente of vertue, mooste cunnyngely wrought, with the cir­cumstaunce of the matter briefly declared, wherby other men in beholdynge, maye be instructed, or at the least wayes to vertue perswaded. In lyke wise his plate and ves­sayle wolde be ingraued with histories, fa­bles, or quycke and wyse sentences, com­prehendyng good doctryne or counsayles, wherby one of these commodyties maye happen, eyther that they whiche doo eate or drynke, hauynge those wysedomes euer in syghte, shall happen with the meate to receyue some of them, or by purposing thē at the table, maye sussitate some dysputati­on or reasonynge, wherby somme parte of tyme shall be saued, whiche elles by super­fluouse eatynge and drynkynge, wolde be idelly consumed.

¶ What very nobilitie is, and wherof it toke fyrste that denominati­on. Capitulo. iiii.

NOwe it is to be feared, that where maiestie approcheth to excesse, & the mind is obsessed with inordinate glo­rie, lest pryde, of al vices mooste horryble, shulde sodeynly entre and take prisoner the harte of a gentyllman called to auctoritie. Wherfore in as moch as that pestilence corrupteth all sences, and maketh them incu­rable by any perswation or doctryne, ther­fore such persons, from theyr adolescency, Adolescē ­cye, is the age next to the state of man. Nobilitie begunne. ought to be perswaded and taught the true knowledge of very nobylytie, in fourme fo­lowynge or lyke.

¶ Fyrst that in the begynnynge, whan pri­uate possessions and dignitie were giuen by the consente of the people, who than had all thynge in commune, and equalitie in de­gree and condition, Undoutedly they gaue the one and the other to him, at whose ver­tue they meruayled, and by whose labour and industrie they receiued a commune be­nefyte, as of a commune father, that with equal affection loued them. And that prōp­titude or redynesse in employinge that be­nefyte was than named in englyshe gentyl­nesse, as it was in latine BENIGNITAS, [Page] and in other tonges after a semblable signi­fycation: and the persons were called gen­tyll menne, more for the remembraunce of theyr vertue and benefyte, than for discre­paunce of astates.

¶ Also it fortuned by the prouidēce of god, that of those good menne were ingendred good chyldren, who beinge broughte vp in vertue, and perceyuynge the cause of the aduauncement of theyr progenytours, en­deuoured them selfes by imitation of ver­tue, to be equall to them in hon our and au­ctoritie: by good emulation they reteyned stylle the fauour and reuerence of people. And for the goodnes that proceded of su­che generation, the astate of them was cal­led in greke EVGENIA, whiche signifyeth good kynde or lynage: but in a more briefe maner, it was after called nobilitie, and the persoues noble, which signifieth excellent, and in the analogie or significatiō it is more ample than gentill, for it conteyneth as wel all that, whiche is in gentilnesse, as also the honour or dignitie therfore receyued, whi­che be so annexed the one to the other, that they can not be seperate.

¶ It wolde be more ouer declared, that where vertue ioyned with great possessiōs Nobilitie auncient. or dygnytie, hath longe contynued in the blode or house of a gentyll man, as it were [Page 104] an inheritaunce, there nobilitie is most she­wed, and these noble men be most to be ho­nored: for as moche as continuaunce in all thinge that is good, hath euer preeminence in prayse and comparyson. But yet shall it be necessary, to aduertise those persōs, that do thynke, that nobylitie may in no wyse be but onely where men can auaunte theym of auncient lignage, an auncient robe, or great possessions, at this day very noble men do suppose to be moch errour and foly. Wher­of there is a familiar example, whiche we beare euer with vs: for the bloode in our bodies beinge in youthe warme, pure, and lustye, is the occasion of beautie, whiche is euery where commended and loued, but in age beynge putryfied, it leseth his prayse. And the goutes, carbuncles, kankers, le­pryes, and other lyke sores and sycknesses, whiche do procede of blode corrupted, be to al men detestable. And this persuasion to any gentilman, in whom is apt dysposition to very nobilitie, wyll be sufficient, to with­drawe hym from such vice, wherby he may empayre his own estimation, and the good renoume of his auncetours.

¶ If he haue an auncient robe, lefte by his Aunciente robes. auncetour, let hym consider, that if the first owner were of more vertue than he is, that succedeth, the robe beynge worne, myns­sheth [Page] his prayse, to them whiche knowe or haue harde of the vertue of hym that fyrste owed it. If he that weareth it be vyclouse, it more detecteth howe moch he is vnwor­thy to weare it, the remembraunce of his noble auncetour makynge men to abhorre the reproche gyuen by an yuell successour,

¶ If the fyrst owner were not vertuouse, it condemneth him that weareth it of moche folyshenesse, to glorie in a thynge of so base estimation, which lacking beautie or glosse, can be none ornament to hym that weareth it, nor honorable remembrance to hym that fyrste owed it.

¶ But nowe to confirme by true histories, that accordynge as I late affirmed, nobili­tic Nobilitie wherin it is. is not only in dignitie, auncient lignage, nor great reuenues landes or possessyons, let yong gentylmen haue often tymes tolde to theym, and (as it is vulgarely spoken) layde in theyr lappes, how Numa Pompi­lius was taken from husbandry, whiche he Numa klg of Romais exercised, and was made king of Romayns by electyon of the people. What caused it suppose you, but his wisedome and vertue, whiche in him was very nobilitie: and that nobylitie broughte hym to dygnitie? And if that were not nobylytie, the Romaynes were meruaylousely abused, that after the dethe of Romulus theyr kynge, hauinge a­monge [Page 105] them a hundred senatours, whome Romulus dyd set in auctoritie, and also the blod royal, and olde gentylmen of the Sa­bynes, who by the procurement of the wi­ues of the Romains, beīg their doughters, inhabited the citie of Rome, they wold nat of somme of them electe a kynge, rather than aduaunce a ploughman and straunger to that autoritie.

¶ Quintius, hauing but .xxx. acres of land, Quintius Dictator. and beinge ploughman therof, the Senate and people of Rome sente a messager to shewe hym that they had chosen hym to be DICTATOR, whiche was at that tyme the highest dignitie among the Romains, & for thre monethes had auctoritie royal. Quin­tius herynge the message, lette his plough stande, & went into the citie, & prepared his hoost, agein the Samnites, and vanquished them valiantly. And that done, he surren­dred his office, and being discharged of the dignitie, repaired ageyne to his ploughe, and applied it diligently.

¶ I wold demaund nowe, if nobilitie were only in the dignitie, or in his prowesse, whi­che he shewed agaynst his ennemies. If it were only in his dignite, it therwith cessed, and he was (as I mought say) estsones vn­noble, and than was his prowesse vnrewar­ded, whiche was the chiefe and origynall [Page] cause of that dignite: whiche were incon­gruent and without reasō. If it were in his prowesse, prowesse consistynge of valiaunte courage and martial polycie, if they styl re­mayne in the personne, he maye neuer be with out nobilitie, whiche is the commen­dation, and as it were the surname of vtue.

¶ The two Romaynes, called both Decii, were of the base astate of the people, and Decii and theyr a­ [...]owe. not of the greate blode of the Romaynes, yet for the preseruation of theyr countrey, they auowed to dye, as it were in a satisfa­ction for all theyr countrey: and soo with valyaunte hartes they perced the hoste of theyr ennemies, and valiauntly fyghtynge dyed there honourably, and by theyr exam­ple gaue suche audacitie and courage to the residue of the Romaynes, that they employed so their strengthe agaynst their en­nemyes, that with lyttell more losse, they opteyned victorye.

¶ Ought not these two Romaynes, which by theyr death gaue occasiō of victorye, be called noble? I suppose no man that kno­weth what reason is, wyll denie it.

¶ More ouer, we haue in this realme coy­nes, which be called nobles, as lōg as they be sene to be golde, they be so called: but if they be counterfayted, and made in brasse, coper, or other vile metal, who for the prit [Page 106] onely, calleth them nobles? wherby it ap­pereth, that the estimation is in the metall, and not in the prynte or [...]ygure.

¶ And in a horse or good greyhounde, we prayse that we se in them, and not the beau­tie or goodnes of theyr progenie. Whiche proueth, that in estemyng of money and ca­tell, we be led by wysedome, and in appro­uynge of man, to whom beastes and money do serue, we be onely induced by custome.

¶ Thus I conclude, that nobylytie is not after the vulgare opynion of menne, but is onely the prayse and surname of vertue. Whiche the lenger it continueth in a name or linage, the more is nobilitie extolled and meruayled at.

Ofaffabilitie, and the vtilitie ther of in euery astate. Cap. v.

TO that, whiche I before named gen­tylnesse, be incident thre special qua­lities, Affabilite, Placabilitie, & Mer­cy, of whom I wil nowe seperately declare the propre significations.

¶ Affabilitie is of a wonderfull efficacie or power in procuryng loue. And it is in son­dry wyse, but moste proprely, where a man is facyle or easye to be spoken vnto. It is also where a man speketh courteysely with [Page] a swete speche or countenaunce, wherwith the herers (as it were with a delycate o­dour) be refreshed, and alured to loue him, in whom is this moste delectable qualytie. As contrary wyse, men vehementely hate them, that haue a proude and haulte coun­tenaunce, Hault coū tenance. be they neuer so hyghe in astate or degree. How often haue I hard people say, whan men in great auctoutie haue pas­sed by, without makyng gentyl countenāce, to those whiche haue done to them reue­rence, This mā weneth with a loke, to sub­due all the worlde? Nay nay, mens hartes be free, and wyll loue whom they lyst. And therto al the other do consēt in a murmure, as it were bees. Lorde god howe they be sore blinded, which do wene, that haulte countenaunce is comelynesse of nobylitie, where vndoubtedly, nothynge is therto, a more greatter blemyshe: As they haue wel proued, which by fortunes mutabilite haue chaunged their astate, whan they perceiue that the remembrance of theyr pride, with­draweth all pitie, all men reioysynge at the chaunge of theyr fortune.

¶ Dionise, the proude kynge of Sicile, af­ter that for his intollerable pride, was dri­uen by his people out of his realme, the re­menbraunce of his haulte and stately coun­tenaunce, was to all men so odiouse, that he [Page 107] coulde be in no countrey well enterteyned. In so moche as if he had not be releued by lernynge, teachynge a grammer schole in Italy, he for lacke of frendes had ben con­strayned to begge for his lyuynge.

¶ Semblably Perses king of Macedonia, & one of the rychest kynges that euer was in Grece, For his execrable pryde, was at the last abandoned of all his alies and con­federates, by reason wherof, he was vain­quyshed, and taken prisoner by Paulus E­milius, one of the consules of Rome: & not onely he hym selfe bounden, and ledde as a captiue, in the triumphe of the sayde Pau­lus, but also the remembrance of his pryde was so odiouse to people, that his owne sonne, destitute of frendes, was by nede cō ­strayned to worke in a smythes forge, not fyndinge any man that of his harde fortune had any compassion.

¶ The pride of Carquine, the last kyng of Romaynes, was more occasion of his exile, than the rauysshynge of Lucrecia, by his sonne Arunciꝰ, for the malice that the peo­ple by his pryde had longe gathered, fyn­dinge valiaunt capitaynes, Brutus, Cola­tinus, Lucretius, and other nobles of the citie, at the last braste out, and takynge oc­casion of the rauisshement, all thoughe the king were therto not partie, they vtterly expulsed [Page] him for euer out of the citie. These be the fruites of pride, and that men do call stately countenaunce.

¶ Whan a noble man passeth by, shewynge to men a gentyll and familiare visage, it is a Gentil coū tenance. world to beholde, howe people taketh cō ­fort, howe the bloude in theyr visage quic­keneth, howe theyr fleshe styreth and har­tes leape for gladnes: Than they all speke, as it were in an harmony, the one saith, who beholdinge this mannes most gentyl coun­tenance, wil nat with al his harte loue him? A nother sayth, He is no man but an angel, se howe he reioyseth all men that beholde hym. Fynally, all doo graunte, that he is worthy all honour that maye be gyuen or wyshed hym.

¶ But nowe to resorte to that, which most proprely (as I haue said) is affabilite, whi­che is facile or easy to be spoken vnto.

¶ Marcus Antoninꝰ, emperour of Rome (as Lampridius wryteth) enserched, who were moost homely and playne men within the cite, and secretely sent for them into his chambre, where he diligently enquered of them, what the people coniected of his li­uinge, commaundynge them vpon peyne of his hygh indignation, to tell hym trouthe, and hyde nothynge from hym. And vpon theyr reporte, if he harde any thynge wor­thy [Page 108] neuer so lyttell dyspreyse, he forthwith amended it. And also by suche meanes, he corrected them that were about his persō, fyndyng them negligent, dyssemblars, and flatterers.

¶ The noble Trayane, whan his nobles & counsaylours noted hym to famylyar and curtaise, and therfore dyd blame hym, He aunswered, that he wolde be a lyke empe­rour to other men, as if he were a subiecte, he wolde wyshe to haue ouer hym selfe.

¶ O what domage hath ensued to pryncis Libertie in speakynge. and theyr realmes, where liberte of speche hath ben restrained?

¶ What auayled fortune incomparable to Alexāders crueltie in sleinge his frendes. the great kynge Alexander, his wonderful puyssaunce and hardynes, or his synguler doctryne in philosophy, taughte hym by Aristotle, in delyueryng hym from the deth in his yonge and flourishyng age? where if he hadde reteyned the same affabilitie, that was in hym in the begynnynge of his con­quest, and had not put to sylence his coun­saylours, whiche before vsed to speake to hym frankely, he mought haue escaped all vyolent death: and by simylitude haue en­ioyed the hole monarchie of al the worlde. For after that he waxed to be terryble in maners, and prohibited his frēdes, and dis­crete seruauntes, to vse theyr accustomed [Page] libertie in speche, he felle in to the hatefull grudge amonge his owne people.

¶ But I had almost forgoten Iulius Ce­sar, Iulius Cesar exāple of tyranny who being not able to susteyne the bur­den of fortune, and enuienge his owne fe­licitie, abandoned his naturall disposition, and as it were being drōke with ouer moch welth, sought newe wayes, howe to be ad­uaunced aboue the astate of mortal princis: wherfore litel and lytel he withdrewe from men his accustomed gentylnesse, becoming more sturdy in langage, and strange in coū ­tenaunce, than euer before had bene his v­sage. And to declare more playnely his in­tente, he made an edict or decree, that noo man shulde prease to come to him vncalled, and that they shuld haue good awaite, that they spake not in such familiar faciō to him, as they before had ben accustomed: wher­by he so dyd alienate from hym the hartes of his moste wyse and assured adherentys, that from that tyme forwarde, his lyfe was to them tedious: and abhorrynge hym as a monstre or commune enemy, beinge knytte in a confederacy, slewe hym syttyng in the Senate, of whiche conspiracy was chiefe capitayne Marcus Brutus, whom of al o­ther he best loued, for his great wysedome and prowesse. And it is of some writers sus­pected, that he was begoten of Cesar, for [Page 109] as moch as Cesar in his youth loued Ser­uilia, the mother of Brutus, and as menne supposed, vsed her more familiarly than honestie required. Thus Cesar by omittinge his olde affabilitie, did incense his next frē ­des and companions to sle hym.

¶ But nowe take hede what domage ensu­ed Dammage insuing by lacke of li­bertie of speche. to hym by his decre, wherin he cōman­ded, that no man shulde be so hardy to ap­proche or speke to hym, One which knewe of the conspiracie against him, & by all lyke­lihode did participate therin, beyng meued either with loue or pitie, or other wyse his cōscience remording against the destructiō of so noble a prince, cōsidering that by Ce­sars decree he was prohybyted to haue to him any familiar accesse, so that he myghte not plainly detect the conspiracie, he ther­to vehemētly meued, wrote in a byll all the fourme therof, with the meanes howe it might be espied, & sēs he mought find none other oportunitie, he delyuered the byll to Cesar the same day that his dethe was pre­pared, as he wēt towarde the place, where the Senate was holden. But he being radicate in pride, & neglectīg to loke on that bil, not esteming the ꝑson that deliuered it, whiche ꝑchāce was but of a mean hauiour, cōtinued his way to the Senate, where he incō tinēt was slain by the said Brutꝰ & many mo [Page] of the Senate for that purpose appoynted.

¶ Who beholding the cause of the death of this moste noble Cesar, vnto whom in elo­quence, doctrine, martial prowesse, and gē ­tylnesse, no prince maye be compared, and the acceleration or haste to his confusyon, caused by his owne edict or decre, wyll not commende affabilitie, and extolle liberalite of speche? wherby onely loue is in the har­tes of people perfectely kendled, all feare excluded, and consequentely realmes, do­minions, and all other auctorities consoly­date and perpetually stablished. The suffe­rance of noble men to be spoken vnto, is not only to them an incōparable sur etie, but al­so a confounder of repentaunce, ennemy to prudence, wherof is ingendred this word, Had I wyst, whiche hath benne euer of all wyse men reproued.

¶ On a tyme kynge Philip, father to the Jugement suspended through libertie of speche. Plutarchꝰ. great Alexander, sittyng in iugemente, and hauynge before hym a matter agaynste one of his soudiours, beinge ouer commen with watche, fel on a slombre, and sodeynly be­ing awaked, immediatly wolde haue giuen a sentēce agaynst the poore souldiour. But he with a great voice & outcrie said? Kynge Philip, I appele. To whom wylt thou ap­pele sayd the kyng? To the (sayd the soul­diour) whan thou arte throughly awaked. [Page 110] with whiche answere the kynge suspended his sentence, and more diligētly examining the matter, foūd, the souldiour had wrōge: whiche being sufficiently discussed, he gaue iugement for hym, whome before he wolde haue condemned.

¶ Semblably hapned by a pore woman, a­gaynste whom the same kynge had gyuen iugemēt, but she as desperate, with a loude voice, cried, I appele, I appele. To whom appelest thou sayde the kynge? I appeale, sayde she, from the, nowe beynge dronke, to kynge Philyp the sobre. At which wor­dis, though they were vndiscrete and foo­lishe, yet he nat being moued to displesure, but gatherynge to hym his wyttes, exami­ned the matter more seriously: wherby he fyndyng the pore woman to susteyn wron­ges, reuersed his iugement, and according to truth and iustyce, gaue to her that she demanded. Wherin he is of noble autours cō ­mended, and put for an honorable example of affabilitie.

¶ The noble emperour Antonine, called Antonine philoso­phus. herodianꝰ the philosopher, was of suche affabilitie, as Herodiane writeth, that to euery man that came to him, he gentilly deliuered his hād. And wold nat ꝑmitte, that his garde shuld prohibyte any man to approche hym.

¶ The excellent emperour Augustus on a [Page] a tyme, in the presence of many men, plaied on cimbales, or an other lyke instrumente. Augustus▪ A poore man standyng with other, and be­holdynge Suetoniꝰ. the emperour, said with a loude voyce to his felowe, Seest thou nat, howe this voluptuous lechour tempereth al the worlde with his fynger? Whyche wordes the emperour so wysely noted, withoute wrathe or displeasure, that euer after, du­ryng his lyfe, he refrayned his handes frō semblable lyghtnesse.

¶ The good Antonine, emperor of Rome Antoninꝰ Plus. cōming to supper to a meane gentylmā, be­helde in the house certaine pyllers of a de­licate stone, called porpheri, asked of the Lāppridiꝰ good man, where he had bought those pil­lers. Who made to the emperour this an­swere, Syr, whan ye come into any other mans howse, than your owne, euer be you both dome and defe. Whiche liberall taunte that most gentyl emperour toke in so good ꝑt, that he oftētimes rehersed that sentēce to other, for a wyse and discrete coūsayle.

¶ By these exāples apperith now euidētly what good cometh of affabylitie or suffe­rāce of speche, what most pernicious daū ­ger alway ensueth to theym, that either do refuse counsayle, or prohybyte lybertie of speche, sens that in lybertie (as it hath ben proued) is most perfect suertie, accordyng [Page 111] as it is remembred by Plutarche, of The­opompus, kynge of Lacedemone, who beinge demaunded, howe a realme mought be beste and mooste surely kepte, If (sayd he) the prince gyue to his frendes libertie, to speake to hym thynges that be iuste, and neglecteth nat the wronges, that his sub­iecte susteyneth.

¶ Howe noble a vertue placabi­litie is. Cap. VI.

PLacabylitie is no lyttell parte of Benignitie, and is proprely where a man is by any occasy­on meued to be angry, and nat withstandynge eyther by his owne reason ingenerate, or by counsaylle perswaded, omytteth to be reuenged, and often tymes receyuethe the transgressoure ones reconsyled, into more fauour: whyche vndoubtedlye is a vertue wonderfulle ex­cellent. For as Tulli sayth, No thynge is Cice. off. 1. more to be meruayled at, or that more be­cometh a man noble and honorable, thanne mercy and placabilitie. The valewe ther­of Ire or wrathe. is beste knowen by the contrarye, why­che is yre, called vulgarely wrathe, a vyce mooste vgly, and farrest from humanitie.

For who beholdynge a man in estymation [Page] of nobylitie and wysedome, by furie chan­ged into an horrible figure, his face infar­ced with rancour, his mouth foule and im­bosed, his eien wyde starynge, and sparke­lynge lyke fyre, nat speakynge, but as a wylde bulle, roringe and brayinge out wor­des despytefull and venomous, forgettyng his astate or condytion, forgettynge ler­nynge, ye forgettynge all reason, wyll nat haue suche a passyon in extreme detestati­on? Shall he nat wysshe to be in suche a man placabilitie? wherby onely he shulde be eftesoones restored to the fourme of a man, wherof he is by wrathe despoyled, as it is wondersly well described by Ouide in his crafte of loue.

¶ This Gorgon, that Quide speaketh of, is supposed of poetes to be a fury or infer­nall wrathe monster, whose heares were all in the figure of adders, signifieng the abundance of myschiefe, that is conteyned in wrathe. Wherwith the great kyng Alexāder being Alexander in furye. [Page 113] (as I mought say) obsessed, dyd put to vē ­geable deathe his dere frende Clitus, his mooste prudent counsaylour Calisthenes, his moste valiant capitayne Philotas, with his father Parmenio, and dyuers other. wherof he so soore after repēted, that op­pressed with heuynes, had slayne him selfe, had he nat ben let by his seruantes. Wher­fore his furye and inordynate wrathe, is a fowle and greuous blemishe to his glorye, whiche without that vice, had incompara­bly excelled all other princis.

¶ Who abhoreth or hateth nat the violēce The horrible crueltie of Sylla & Marius. or rage that was in Scylla and Marius? noble Romains, & in their tyme in hyghest authoritie within the citie, hauyng the go­uernance of the more parte of the worlde. Scilla, for the malignitie that he hadde to­warde Marius, caused the heades of a thousande and seuen hundred of the chief citisens of Rome to be strikē of, & brought to him freshe bledinge and quyck, and ther on fedde his mooste cruell cyen, whiche to eate his mouth naturally abhorred. Ma­rius with no lesse rancour inflamed, beside a terrible slaughter, that he made of noble men, leanyng to Scilla, also caused Caius Cesar (who had ben both Consul and Cen­sor, two of the mooste honorable dignities in the citie of Rome) to be violently drawē [Page] to the sepulture of one Uarius, a symple and seditious persone, and there to be dis­honestly slayne. With lyke bestiall fury, he caused the heed of Marcus Antonius, one of the moste eloquente oratours of all the Romaynes, to be brought vnto hym, as he sate at dyner, and there toke the heed all blody betwene his handes, and with a ma­lycious countenaunce reproched hym of his eloquence, wherwith he had nat onely defended many an innocēt, but also the hole publyke weale by his wyse consultations singularly profyted.

¶ O what calamitie hapned to that moste noble citie of Rome, by the implacabilitie or wrath insaciable, of these two capytay­nes, or (as I mought rather say) deuylles? the nobles betwene theym exhauste, the chyualrye almooste consumed, the lawes oppressed, and lackynge but lyttell, that the publyke weale had nat ben extinct, and the citie vtterly desolate.

¶ The vndiscrete hastinesse of themper or Claudius, caused hym to be noted for foo­lysshe. For he meued with wrathe, caused dyuers to be slayne, for whom after he de­maunded, and wolde sende for to soupper. Nat withstandynge that he was right well lerned, & in dyuers great affaires appered to be wise. These discōmodities do happen [Page 114] by implacable wrathe, wherof there be ex­amples innumerable.

¶ Contrarywise, the valiant king Pirrhus Pyrrhus. herynge that two men at a feast, & in a great assembly and audience, had openly spoken wordes, to his reproche, meued with dy­spleasure, sent for the persones: and whan they were come, he demanded where they spake of him any suche wordes? whervnto one of theym aunswered, If (sayde he) the wyne had nat the sooner fayled vs, all that which was tolde to your hyghnes, in com­parison of that whiche shuld haue ben spo­ken, had bene but trifles. The wyse prince with that playne confession was mitigate, & his wrath conuerted to laughynge.

¶ Iuliꝰ Cesar, after his victory ageinst the Placabi­litie. great Pompei, who had maried his doughter, sittyng in open iugement, one Sergius Galba, one of the nobles of Rome, a frend vnto Pompei, saide vnto him, I was boun­den for thy sonne in law Pompei in a great somme, whan he was consul the third time, wherfore I am nowe sewed. What shall I do? Shall I my selfe pay it? by which wordes he moughte seeme to reproche Cesar of the sellynge of Pompeis goodis, in de­fraudynge his creditours. But Cesar than hauynge a gentyll harte and a pacient was nat meeued with any displeasure towarde [Page] Galba: but caused Pompeies dettes to be discharged.

¶ we lacke nat of this vertue dimesticalle examples, I meane of our own kynges of Englande, but moste specially one, whiche in myne oppinyon, is to be compared with any, that euer was writen of in any region or countrey.

¶ The moste renomed prince king Henry the fyste, late kynge of Englande, durynge A good Iudge, a good prīce a good kīg the lyfe of his father, was noted to be fiers and of wanton courage: it hapned, that one of his seruantes, whom he well fauoured, was for felony by him committed, arrained at the kynges benche: where of the prince beinge aduertised, and incensed by lyghte persones aboute him, in furious rage came hastily to the barre, where his seruāt stode as a prisoner, and commaunded hym to be vngyued and set at libertie. wherat all men were abashed, reserued the chiefe Iustice, who humbly exhorted the prince, to be cō ­tēted, that his seruaunt mought be ordred, accordynge to the aunciente lawes of this realme: or if he wolde haue hym saued frō the rigour of the lawes, that he shulde op­teyne, if he moughte, of the kynge his fa­ther, his gratious pardon, wherby no lawe or iustyce shulde be derogate. With whiche answere the prince nothynge appeased, but [Page 115] rather more inflamed, endeuored him selfe to take away his seruant. The iuge consi­dering the perillous example, and incōue­nience that mought therby insue, with a valyant spirite and courage, commanded the prince vpon his alegeance, to leaue the prisoner, and depart his way, with which commandment the prince being set all in a fury, all chafed and in a terrible maner, came vp to the place of iugement, mē thinkyng that he wold haue slayne the iuge, or haue done to hym some damage: but the iuge sittynge styll without mouīg, declaring the maiestie of the kynges place of iugement, and with an assured and bolde countenaunce, had to the prince, these wordes folowyng,

¶ Syr, remembre your selfe, I kepe here the place of the kyng your soueraine lorde and father, to whom ye owe double obedi­ence, wherfore eftesoones in his name, I charge you desyste of your wylfulnes and vnlaufull enterprise, & from hensforth giue good example to those, whyche hereafter shall be your propre subiectes. And nowe, for your contempte and disobedience, goo you to the prysone of the kynges benche, wherevnto I commytte you, and remayne ye there prisoner vntyll the pleasure of the kynge your father be further knowen. with whiche wordes beinge abashed, and [Page] also wondrynge at the meruaylous graui­tie of that worshypfulle Sustyce, the noble prince layinge his weapon aparte, doynge reuerence, departed, and wente to the kynges benche, as he was commanded. wher­at his seruauntes disdaynynge, came and shewed to the kynge all the hole affaire. Wherat he awhyles studyenge, after as a man all rauyshed with gladnesse, holdynge his eien and handes vp towarde heuen, a­braided, saying with a loude voice, O mer­cyfull god, howe moche am I, aboue all o­ther men, bounde to your infinite goodnes, specially for that ye haue gyuen me a iuge, who feareth nat to minister iustyce, and al­so a sonne, who can suffre semblably, and o­beye iustyce?

¶ Nowe here a man may behold thre per­sones, worthy excellent memorie, Fyrste a iuge, who beinge a subiecte, feared nat to execute iustyce on the eldest son of his so­ueraigne lorde, and by the order of nature his successour. Also a prince, and sonne and heire of the kyng, in the myddes of his fu­rye, more consydered his euyll example, & the iuges constance in iustice, than his own astate or wylfull appetite. Thirdly, a noble kynge and wyse father, who cōtrary to the custome of parētes, reioyced to se his sōne, and the heire of his crowne, to be for his [Page 116] bysobedyence, by his subiecte corrected. wherfore I conclude, that nothing is more honorable, or to be desired in a price or no­ble man, than placabilite. As contrary wise, nothinge is so detestable or to be feared in suche one, as wrathe and cruell malignitie.

¶ That a gouernour oughte to be mercy­full, and the diuersitie of mercy and vayne pitie. Cap. VII.

MERCY IS and hath bene euer of su­che estimation with mankynde, that nat onely reason persuadeth, but al­so experience proueth, that in whome mer­cy lacketh, and is nat founden, in hym all o­ther vertues be drowned, and lose their iuste commendation.

¶ The vice called crueltie, whiche is con­trary Crueltie▪ to Mercy, is by good reason mooste odious of all other vyces, in as moche as lyke a poyson or contynuall pestylence, it distroyeth the generation of manne. Also lykewise as norishyng meates and drinkes in a sycke bodye, doo lose their bountie and augmente the malady, semblably dyuers v­tues in a person cruel and malicious, be not onely obfuscate or hyd, but do minister oc­casion and assistence to crueltie.

¶ But now to speke of the inestimable p ^•ce [Page] and value of mercy, Let gouernours, whi­che knowe, that they haue réceyued theyr powar frome aboue, reuolue in their myn­des, in what peryl they them self be in dai­ly, if in god were nat abundance of mercy, but that as soone as they offende hym gre­uously, he shulde immediatly stryke theym with his moste terrible dart of vengeance: All be it vneth any houre passeth, that men deserue nat some punyshement.

¶ The moste noble emperours, which for their merites resceyued of the gentyls di­uine honours, vanquyshed the great hartis of their mortal ennemies, in shewyng mer­cy aboue mens expectation.

¶ Iulius Cesar, which in policy, eloquēce, celeritie and prowesse, excelled al other capitaynes, in mercy onely, surmounted hym selfe, that is to saye, contrarye to his owne affectes and determynate purposes, he nat onely spared, but also resceyued into ten­der familyaritie his sworne enmyes. wher­fore if the disdayne of his owne blode and alyance had nat traytorously slayne him, he had reigned longe and prosperously.

¶ But amonge many other exaumples of mercy, wherof the hystoryes of Rome do Seneca de clementia. abounde, there is one remembred by Se­neca, whiche may be in the stede of a great noumbre.

[Page 117] ¶ It was reported to the noble emperour Octauius Augustus, that Lucius Cinna, Mercy she wid by Augustus vn­till his enemye. which was susters sonne to the great Pō ­pei, had imagined his dethe: Also that Cinna was apointed to execute his feate, whi­les the emperour was doing his sacrifice. This reporte was made by one of the con­spiratours, and therwith diuers other thinges agreed: the olde hostilitie betwene the houses of Pōpei and Cesar, the wyld & se­ditious witte of Cinna, with the place and tyme, where and whan the emperour shuld be disfurnyshed of seruantes. No wonder though the emperours mynde were inqui­ete, being in so perillous a conflict, conside­ryng on the one parte, that if he shulde put to deth Cinna, whiche came of one of the moste noble and auncient houses of Rome, he shulde euer lyue in daunger, onelas he shoulde destroye all that noble familie, and cause the memory of them to be vtterly ex­terminate: whiche mought nat be brought to passe, without effusion of the bloudde of persons innumerable, and also peryle of the subuercion of the empire, late pacified. On the other parte, he considered the im­minente daunger, that his persone was in, wherfore nature stered hym to prouide for his suertie: wherto he thought than to be none other remedy, but the deth of his ad­uersarye. [Page] To hym beinge thus perplexed, cam his wife Liuia, the empresse, who said vnto him, Pleaseth it you sir to here a wo­mans aduise. Do you as phisitions be wont to do, where theyr accustomed remedyes preue nat, they assaye the contrary. By se­ueritie ye haue hytherto nothyng profited: proue therfore nowe, what mercy may ad­uaile you. Forgyue Cinna, he is taken with the maynure, and may nat nowe indomage you, profyte he may moche to the increase of your renoume & perpetuall glorie. The emperour reioysed to him selfe, that Cinna had founde such an aduocatrice, and giuing her thankes, caused his counsaylours, whiche he had sent for, to be countermaunded, and calling to him Cinna only, commanded the chaumbre to be auoyded, and an other chayre to be set for Cinna, and that done, he sayd in this maner to hym, I desyre of the this one thinge, that whyles I speke, thou wylt nat let or disturbe me: or in the middes of my wordes make any exclamation.

¶ What tyme Cinna, I founde the in the hoste of myne ennemies, all thoughe thou were nat by any occasyon made myne ene­mye, but by succession from thyn auncetors borne myn enemye, I nat onely saued the, but also gaue vnto the all thyn inheritance: And at this day thou art so prosperous and [Page 118] ryche, that they, whyche hadde with me vyctorie, do enuye the, that were vanquy­shed. Thou askeddest of me a spiritual promotion, and furth with I gaue it the, before many other, whose parentes hadde serued me in warres. And for that I haue doone so moche for the, thou haste nowe pourpo­sed to slee me. At that worde, whan Cinna cried out, sayinge, that suche madnes was farre from his mynde. Cinna (said the em­perour) thou kepeste nat promyse, it was couenanted, that thou shouldest nat inter­rupte me. I say thou preparest to kyll me. And therto the emperour named his com­panyons, the place, tyme, and order of all the conspiracy, and also to whom the sword was commytted. And whan he perceyued hym astonyed, holdynge than his peace, nat for bycause that he soo promysed, but that his conscyence hym meued. For what intent dyddeste thou thus, (sayde Augu­stus) bycause thou woldest be Emperour? In good faythe the publyke weale is in an euyll astare, if nothynge lettethe the to raygne, but I oonely. Thou canste nat mayntayne or defende thyne owne house. It is nat longe sens that thou in a pryuate iugement, were ouercomen of a poore man but laate infraunchysed. Therfore thou mayste nothynge doo lyghtlyer than plede [Page] ageynst the emperour. Say nowe, do I a­lone let the of thy purpose? supposist thou that Paule, Fabius Maximus, the Cosses, & Seruiliis, aunciente houses of Rome, and suche a sorte of noble men (nat they whiche haue vayne and glorious names, but suche as for their merites be adorned with their propre images) wyll suffre the? Finally said the emperor (after that he had talked with hym by the space of two howres) I gyue to the thy lyfe Cinna the seconde tyme: fyrste beinge myn ennemy, nowe a traytour and murderer of thy souerain lorde, whom thou oughtest to loue as thy father. Howe frō this day let amitie betwene vs two be­gynne, and let vs bothe contende, whether I with a better harte haue giuen to the thy lyfe, or that thou canst more genrilly recō ­pence my kyndnes.

¶ Sone after Augustus gaue to Cinna the dignitie of consull vndesired, blaming him, that he durste nat aske it, wherby he hadde hym moste assured and loyall. And Cinna afterwarde dieng, gaue to the emperour al his goodes & possessions. And neuer after was Augustus in daunger of any treasone.

¶ O what sufficient prayse may be giuen to this moste noble and prudente emperoure, that in a chambre aloone, without men, or­denance, or weapon, and perchaunce with­out [Page 119] harnes, within the space of .ii. houres, with wordes well couched, tempered with maiestie, not only vainquished and subdued one mortall enemie, whiche by a malignitie engendred of a domesticall hatred, had de­termined to slee hym, but by the same feate excluded out of the hole citie of Rome, all dyspleasure and rancour towarde hym, so that there was not left any occasion, wher­of mought procede any lyttell suspicion of treasonne, whiche other wyse coulde not haue hapned without slaughter of people innumerable.

¶ Also the empresse Liuia, maye not of A wisewoman. right be forgoten, whiche ministred to her lorde that noble counsayle in suche a per­plexitie, wherby he saued bothe hym selfe and his people. Suppose ye that al the Sc­natours of Rome, and counsaylours of the emperour, whiche were lytell fewer than a thousande, coulde haue better aduysed hym? This historie therfore is no lesse to be remembred of womē than of princis, ta­kynge therby comforte to perswade swete­ly theyr housebandes to mercye and pacy­ence, to which counsayle only, they shulde be admytted and haue fre lybertie. But I shall forbere to speke more of Liuia nowe, for as moche as I purpose to make a boke onely for ladies, where in her laude shalbe [Page] more amplye expressed. But to resort nowe to mercy.

¶ Suerly nothinge more entierly and fast­ly mercy and gentylnes. ioyneth the hartes of subiectes to theyr prynce or soueraygne, than mercy and gen­tilnes. For Seneca saith, A tēperate drede represseth hyghe and sturdy myndes: feare frequente and sharpe, sette forthe with ex­tremitie, stereth men to presumption and hardynes, and constrayneth them to expe­rimente all thynges. He that hastily punis­sheth, oft tymes sone repenteth. And who that ouer moch correcteth, obserueth none equitie. And if ye aske me what mercye is, it is a temperaunce of the mynde of hym, that hath power to be auenged, and it is called in latine Clementia, and is alway ioy­ned with reason. For he that for euery lyt­tel occasion is meued with compassion, and beholdynge a man punysshed condygnely for his offence, lamenteth or waylethe, is called pitiouse, which is a syckenesse of the mynde, wherewith at this daye the more parte of menne be diseased. And yet is the sikenes moch wars by adding to one word, callynge it Uayne pitie.

¶ Some man perchance wyll demaunde of me, what is Uaine pite? To that I will an­swere Uayn pitie in a description of dayly experience.

¶ Beholde what an infynite nombre of en­glishe [Page 120] men and women, at this present time, wander in all places throughout this re­alme, as beastis brute and sauage abando­nyng al occupation, seruice, and honestie. How many semely personagis, by outrage in riote, gaminge, and excesse of apparaile, be induced to theft and robry, and somtime to murder, to the inquietatiō of good men, and fynally to theyr owne destruction?

¶ Howe consyder semblably, what noble statutes, ordinances, and actes of counsayl, from time to time haue ben excogitate, and by graue study and mature consultation, en acted and decreed, as well for due punys­shemente of the saide idle persones and va­cabundes, as also for the suppression of vn­laufull games, and reducynge apparayle to conuenyente moderation and temperance? Howe many proclamations ther of haue bē dyuulgate, and not obeyed? Howe many commyssions directed, and not executed? (Marke wel here, that dissobedient subie­ctes, & negligent gouernours, do frustrate good lawes) A man hering, that his neighbour is slayne or robbed, forth with hateth the offendour, and abhorreth his enormy­tie, thinkinge hym worthy to be punyshed, accordynge to the lawes. Yet whan he be­holdeth the transgressour, a semely perso­nage, also to be his seruant, acqueyntance, [Page] or a gentyll man borne (I omytte nowe to speke of any other corrupty on) he forthe with changeth his opinion, and preferreth the offendours condition or personage, be­fore the example of iustice, condempninge a good and necessary lawe, for to excuse an offence pernycious and dampnable, ye and this is not onely done by the vulgare or cō ­mune people, but moche rather by them, whiche haue auctoritie to them committed concernynge the effectuall execution of la­wes. They beholde at theyr eie the conti­nuall encrease of vacabundes, in to infynite nombres, the obstinate resistence of theym that dayely do transgresse the lawes made agaynste games, and apparayle, whiche be the streyght pathes to robry, and sembla­ble mischefe. Yet if any one comissioner, me­ued with zele to his countrey, accordynge to his duetie do execute duely, and frequēt­ly the lawe or good ordinaunce, wherin is any sharpe punisshmente, some of his com­panyons therat reboyleth, infamynge hym to be a manne without charytie, callynge hym secretely a pyke thanke, or ambicious of glorie, and by suche maner of obloquie, seeke meanes to brynge hym in to the ha­tered of people. And this maye wel be cal­led vayne pytie, wherin is conteyned ney­ther iustice nor yet commendable charytie, [Page 121] but rather therby ensueth negligence, con­tempte, dissobedyence, and fynally all mys­chiefe and incurable miserie.

¶ If this syckenesse had reygned amonge the olde Romaynes, suppose ye that the a­state of theyr publyke weale had syxe hun­dred yeres encreased, & two hundred ye­res contynued in one excellente astate and wonderfull maiestye? Or thynke ye that the same Romayns mought so haue ordred many greatte countreyes, with fewer my­nisters of iustice, than be nowe in one shire of Englande?

¶ But of that mater, and also of rigour and equalite of punishement. I wyll traite more amply in a place more propise for that pur­pose. And here I conclude to wryte any more at this tyme of mercy.

The pryncipall partes of hu­manitie. Cap. VIII.

THe nature & condition of man, wher­in he is lesse than god almyghty, and excellynge not withstanding al other creatures in erth, is called humanitie: whi­che is a generall name to those vertues, in whom semeth to be a mutuall concorde and loue, in the nature of man. And al thoughe there be many of the sayde vertues, yet [...]e [Page] there thre pryncipall, by whom humanitie is chiefely compact, Beneuolence, Bene­ficence, and Liberalitie, which maketh vp the saide principall vertue called Benigni­tie or gentylnes.

¶ Beneuolence, if it doo extende to a hole countreye or citie, is proprely called cha­rite, Charitie. and some tyme zele: and if it concerne one person, than is it called Beneuolence. And if it be very feruēt and to one singuler person, than maye it be named loue or ami­tie. Beneuo­lence. Loue. Amitie. Of that vertuous disposition procedeth an acte, wherby some thynge is complyed, whiche is profitable and good to hym that receyueth it. And that vertue, if it be in o­peration, or (as I mought saye) endeuour, is called than Beneficence: and the dede (vulgarly named a good tourne) maye be called a benefytte. If it be in money, or o­ther thynge that hath substaunce, it is than Liberalite called Liberalitie, whiche is not alwaye a vertue as Beneficence is: for in wel doinge (whiche is the ryght interpretation of Be­neficence) can be no vice included. But Li­beralitie, Seneca de benef. thoughe it procede of a free and gentyll harte, wyllynge to do some thynge thankeful, yet may it trāsgresse the bondes of vertue, eyther in excessyue rewardes, or expences, orels employenge treasour, pro­motion, or other substaunce on ꝑersons vn­worthy, [Page 122] or on thynges inconuenient, and of small importaunce. Al be it some thynke suche maner of erogation not to be worthy the name of Liberalitie.

¶ Aristotle defineth a liberal man, whiche A liberal man. Ethic. 2. doth erogate, accordinge to the rate of his substance, and as oportunitie hapneth. He sayth also in the same place, that Liberaly­tie is not in the multitude or quātite of that which is gyuen, but in the habite or facion, of the gyuer. For he gyueth accordynge to his habilitie. Neither Tulli approueth it to be Liberalitie, wherin is any myxture of auarice or rapine: for it is not properly Li­beralitie, to exacte iniustely, or by violence or crafte to take goodes frō particuler per sons, and distribute them in a multitude: or to take frō many iniustly, and enriche ther­with on personne or fewe. For as the same autour sayth, the last precept concernynge benefytes or rewardes is, to take good hede, that he contende not agaynst equitie, ne that he vpholde none iniurie.

¶ Nowe wyll I procede seriously and in a due forme to speke more pticulerly of these thre vertues. Not withstanding there is su­che affinitie betwene beneficence and libe­ralitie, beinge alwayes a vertue, that they tende to one cōclusion or purpose, that is to say, with a free & glad wyll to gyue to a no­ther [Page] that thynge, which he before lacked.

Of what excellence beneuo­lence is. Cap. ix.

VUhan I remembre, what incomparable goodnes hath euer proceded of this vertue BENEVOLENCE, mer­cyfulle god what swete flauour fele I, per­synge my spyrytes, wherof bothe my soule and body, to my thynkynge doo conceyue such recreation, that it semeth me to be in a paradise, or other semblable place of incomparable delites and pleasures.

¶ Fyrste I beholde the dygnitie of that vertue, consyderynge that god is therby chiefly knowen and honoured, both of an­gel and man. As contrary wyse, the deuyll is hated and reproued both of god and mā for his malyce, whiche vice is contrarious and repugnant to Beneuolence. Wherfore without Beneuolence may be no god. For god is all goodnes, al charitie, al loue, whi­che holy be comprehēded in the said word Beneuolence.

¶ Nowe let vs see, where any other ver­tue may be equall in dignitie with this ver­tue Beneuolence: or if any vertue remay­neth, where this is excluded? For what commeth of Prudence, where lacketh Beneuolence? [Page 123] but disceite, rauine, auarice, and tyrranny. What of Fortitude? but beastely crueltie, oppression, and effusion of bloode. What iustice may there be without beneuo­lence? sens the fyrst or chiefe porcion of iu­stice (as Tulli saith) is to indomage no mā, onles thou be wronfully vexed. And what is the cause hereof, but equal & entier loue, whiche being remoued or cessinge, who en­deuoureth not hym selfe to take from a no­ther al thynge that he coueteth, or for eue­ry thynge that discontenteth him, wold not forthwith be auenged: wherby he confoū ­deth the vertue called Temperance, which is the moderatrice as well of al motions of the mynde, called affectes, as of all actes procedynge of man.

¶ Here it sufficiently appereth (as I sup­pose) of what estymatiom beneuolence is. Nowe wyl I endeuoure me to recreate the spirites of the dylygente reder, with some delectable hystories, wherin is any noble remembrance of this vertue Beneuolence, that the worthynes therof maye appiere in a more plaine declaration: For in euery dis­cipline, exaumple is the beste instructour. But fyrste I wyl aduertyse the reder, that I wyll nowe wryte of Beneuolence onely, whiche is moste vniuersal, wherin is equa­lytie without syngular affection or accep­taunce [Page] of personages.

¶ And here it is to be noted, that if a go­uernour That Iu­styce neuer lacke beneuolence. of a publyke weale, iuge, or any o­ther ministre of iustice, do gyue sentence a­gaynste on e that hath transgressed the la­wes, or punissheth hym accordynge to the qualitie of his trespas: Beneuolence ther­by is not any thynge peryshed: for the con­dempnation or punishement, is either to re­duce hym that erreth into the traine of vertue, or to preserue a multitude frō domage, by puttynge men in fcare, that be prone to offende, dreding the sharpe correctiō, that they beholde a nother to suffre. And that maner of seuerytie is touched by the pro­phet Dauid in the fourthe psalme, sayinge in this wyse, Be you angry, and loke that you synne not. And Tulli saith, in his fyrste boke of Officis: It is to be wysshed, that Sharpnes of iustyce. they, whiche in the publyke weale haue a­ny autoritie, may be lyke to the lawes, whi­che in correctynge be lad onely by equitie, and not by wrath or dyspleasure

¶ And in that maner, whan Chore, Dathā, and Abirō, moued a sedition against Moy­ses, he prayed god, that the erthe mought open and swalowe them, consyderyng that the fury of the people mought not be by a­any other menes asswaged, ne they kept in due rule or obedience.

[Page 124] ¶ Helias, the holy prophete of god, dyd Helias. his owne handes put to death the priestes of the Idol Baal, yet cessed he not with fa­stynge, prayinge, longe and tedious pilgri­mages, to pacifie the dyspleasure that god toke agaynste the people of Israel. But to retourne to beneuolence.

¶ Moyses, be ing highly enterteined with Pharao kynge of Aegipte, and so moche in his fauour, by the meanes of the kynges sister, that (as Iosephus saythe) he beinge made capitayne of a huge armye, was sente by Pharao against the Ethiopians or Mo­res, where he made suche exployture, that he not only atchieued his entreprise, but al­soo had gyuen vnto hym, for his prowesse, the kynges doughter of Ethiopia to be his wife, with great abundance of ryches. And also for his endeuour, prowesse, and wyse­dome, was moche estemed by Pharao and the nobles of Aegypte, so that he moughte haue lyued there continually in moche ho­nour & welth, if he wold haue preferred his singuler aduayle before the vniuersal weale of his owne kinred or familie: But he infla­med with feruente beneuolence or zele to­warde them, to redeme them out of theyr myserable bondage, chase rather to be in the daungerous indignation of Pharao, to commytte his personne to the chaungeable [Page] myrides of a multitude, and they moste vn­stable, to passe greate and longe iourneyes throughe desertes, replenished with wylde beastes and venemoꝰ serpentes, to suffre exstreme hunger and thyrste, lackynge often tyme not onely vitayle, but also fresshe wa­ter to drinke: thā to be in a palayce of Pha­rao, where he shuld haue ben satisfied with honour, rychesse, and ease, and all other thynges pleasaunte.

¶ Who that redeth the boke of Exodi, shal finde the charitie of this man wonderfull. For whan almyghty god, beinge greuous­ly meued with the chyldren of Israel, for theyr ingratitude, for as moche as they oftē tymes murmured agaynste hym, and vneth moughte be kepte by Moyses from idola­tri, he sayde to Moyses, That he wold de­stroye them vtterly, and make hym ruler of a moche greatter and better people. But Moyses brenninge in a meruaylous chari­tie towardes them, sayde vnto god, This people good lorde haue mooste greuouslye synned, yet eyther forgyue them this tres­pas, or if ye do not, stryke me cleane out of the booke that he wrate. And dyuers other tymes he importunatelye cried to god for the saufe garde of them, notwithstandynge that many tymes they concluded to haue slayne hym, if he had not bene by his wyse­dome, [Page 125] and specially by the power of god, preserued.

¶ But peraduenture some, which seke for stertynge holes to maynteyne theyr vices, wyll obiecte, sayinge, that Moyses was a holy prophete, and a person electe by pre­destination, to delyuer the chyldren of Is­rael out of captiuitie, whiche he coulde not haue done, if he had not ben of suche pacy­ence and charitie. Therfore let vs se what examples of semblable beneuolence we can fynde amonge the gentyles, in whom was no vertue inspired, but that only which na­turall reason induced.

¶ Whan a furious and wylfull yonge man, in a sediciō, had stricken out one of the eies Pacience. of kynge Licurgus, the people wold haue slayne hym, and the kinge wolde not suffre them, but had hym home to his house, and by suche wyse meanes corrected the yonge manne, that at the laste he broughte hym to good maners and wysedome.

¶ Also the same Licurge, to thentent that theffect of his beneuolence, toward the cō ­mune weale of his countrey mought persist and continue, and that his excellent lawes beinge stablyshed, shulde neuer be alterate, he dydlette swere all his people, that they shulde chaunge no parte of his lawes, vntil he were returned, saynynge to them, that [Page] he wold go to Delphos, where Apollo was chiefly hououred, to consult with that god, what semed to hym to be added to, or mini­shed of those lawes, whiche also he feyned to haue receyued of the sayde Apollo. But finally he wēt into the Isle of Crete, where he continued and dyed, commaundynge at his death, that his bones shulde be caste in to the see, leaste if they were broughte to Lacedemonia his countreye, the people shulde thynke them selfe of theyr othe and promyse dyscharged.

¶ Semblable loue Codrus, the last king of Codrus kynge of Athenes. Athenes, had to his countrey. For where the people called Dores (whom some thīke to be nowe Sicilians) wold aduenge their olde grudges againe the Atheniensis, they demaunded of some of theyr goddis, what Charitie. successe shoulde happen, yf they made any warres. Unto whom aunswere was made, that if they slewe not the kynge of Atheni­ensis, they shulde than haue the victorye. Whan they came to the fielde, straite com­maundemente was gyuen amonge theym, that aboue all thynge, they shoulde haue good awayte of the kyng of Athenes, whi­che at that tyme was Codrus. But he be­fore knowynge the aunswere made to the Dores, and what commaundement was gi­uen to the army, dydde put of his princely [Page 126] habite or robes, and in apparayle al ragged and rent, carienge on his necke a bundel of twygges, entred into the hoste of his ene­mies, and was slayne in the prease by a soul diour, whom he wounded with a hoke pur­posely. But whan it was perceiued & kno­wen to be the corps of kynge Codrus, the Dores al dismayed departed frō the fielde, without proferynge battaylle. And in this wyse the Atheniēsis, by the vertue of their moste beneuolent kynge, who for the saulf­garde of his contrey, willyngly dyed, were clerely delyuered from batayle.

¶ O noble Codrus, howe worthy had you bene (if god had ben pleased) to haue abo­den the reparation of mankynde, that in the habite and religion of a christen prynce, ye moughte haue shewed your wonderfull be­neuolence and courage for the saulfe garde of christen men, and to the noble exaumple of other princis?

¶ CVRTIVS, a noble knyghte of the Curtius. Romaynes, hadde no lesse loue to his coū ­treye than Codrus. For soone after the begynnynge of the Cytie, there hapned to be a great erthe quauc, and after there re­mayned a greatte dell or pytto without bo­tume, which to beholde, was horrible and lothesome, and out of it proceded suche a dampe or ayre, that corrupted all the cytie [Page] with pestylence. Wherfore whannej they had counsaylled with suche idols as they than worshypped, answere was made, that the erth shulde not close, vntyll there were throwen into it the moste precious thynge in the citie. which answere receyued, there was throwen in ryche iewels of golde and precious stone: but all auayled not. At the laste Curtius, beynge a yonge and goodly gentyll man, consyderynge, that no riches throwhen in, profyted, fynally coniected, that the lyfe of man was aboue all thynges most precious, to thētent the residue of the people mought be saued by his onely deth, he armed hym selfe at all poyntes, and syt­tynge on a courser, with his swerde in his hand redy drawen, with a valiaunt & fyerce courage enforsed his horse to lepe into the dell or pytte, and forth with it ioyned to ge­ther and closed, leuinge only a signe where the pytte was, which longe after was cal­led Curtius lake.

¶ I passe ouer the two Decius, Marcus Regulus, and many other princis and no­ble men, that for the weale of theyr coun­trey died willingly. And nowe wyl I speke of such as in any other fourme haue decla­red theyr beneuolence.

¶ Xenophō the condisciple of Plato, wrate The power of bene­uolence. the lyfe of Cirus kynge of Persya mooste [Page 127] elegantly, wherin he expresseth the figure of an excellent gouernour or capitayne: he sheweth there, that Cresus kynge of Li­dia, whom Cyrus had taken prisoner, sub­dued his countray, and possessed his trea­sure, sayd on a tyme to Cyrus, whan he be­helde his liberalitie, That suche largenes as he vsed, shulde brynge hym in pouertie, where if he lysted, he mought accumulate vp treasure incomparable. Than Cyrus demanded of Cresus, what treasure suppose ye shulde I now haue, if durynge the tyme of my reigne, I wolde haue gadred & kept money, as ye exhorte me to do? Than Cresus named a great somme. Wel sayd Cyrus, sende ye some man, whome ye beste truste, with Histaspa my seruaunt. And thou Hi­staspa, go about to my frendes, and shewe them that I lacke golde towarde a certayn busynes, wherfore I wyll, they sende me as moche as they can, and that they put it in wrytyng, and sende it sealed by the seruant of Cresus. In the same wyse Cyrus wrate in a letter, and also that they shulde receiue Histaspa as his counsaylour and frende, & sent it by hym. Histaspa, after that he had done the message of Cyrus, and was retur­ned with the seruāt of Cres9, who brought letters frome Cyrus frendes, he sayde to Cyrus, O syr, from hensforth loke that ye [Page] ye take me for a man of greate substaunce. For I am hyghely rewarded with manye greate gyftes for bryngynge your letters. Than Cyrus at the houre appoynted, lad with hym kynge Cresus into his campe, sayinge to hym, nowe beholde here is our treasure: accounte if ye can, howe moche money is redy for me, if I haue nede of a­ny to occupie. Whan Cresus behelde, and reckened the innumerable treasure, which in sondry partes were laid about the paui­lyon of Cyrus, he found moche more than he said to Cirus, that he shulde haue in his tresure, if he him self had gadred & kept it. And whan al appered sufficiētly, Cirus thā said, How think you Cresus, haue I nat tresure? And ye coūsailed me, that I shuld ga­ther and kepe money, by occasyon wherof I shuld be enuied and hated of my people. And more ouer put my truste to seruantes hyred to haue rule therof. But I do all o­therwise, for in makyng my frendes ryche, I take them all for my tresure, & haue them more sure and trusty kepers, bothe of me & my substance, than I shuld do those, whom I muste truste onely for theyr wages.

¶ Lorde god, what a notable hystorie is this, and worthy to be grauen in tables of golde? consyderyng the vertue and power of beneuolence therin expressed. For the [Page 128] beneuolente mynde of a gouernour, nat only byndeth the hartes of the people vnto hym, with the chayne of loue, more stron­ger than any materyal bondes, but also gardeth more saufely his persone, thanne any toure or garyson.

¶ The eloquent Tulli saith in his offycis, Offic. 2. A lyberall harte is cause of beneuolence, although perchaunce power sometyme lac­keth. Contrary wise, he saythe, They that desyre to be feared, nedes muste they drede them, of whom they be feared.

¶ Also Plini the yonger saythe, He that is In pane­gyrico. nat enuironned with charite, in vayne is he garded with terrour, sens armure with ar­mure is stered. Whiche is ratyfyed by the mooste graue philosopher Seneke, in his De clemē ­tia. booke of mercye, that he wrate to NERO, where he saith, He is moche deceiued, that thinketh a man to be sure, where nothynge from hym can be saulfe. For with mutualle assurance, suretie is opteyned.

¶ Antoninus Pius, emperour of Rome, so Antoninꝰ Pius. moch tendred beneuolence of his peo­ple, that whan a great nombre had conspi­red treason ageinst hym, the senate beynge therwith greuousely meued, endeuoured them to punishe the said conspiratours, but the emperoure caused the examination to cesse, saying, It shulde nat nede to seeke to [Page] busily for them that intēded such mischiefe, leste if they founde many, he shuld knowe, that many hated hym. Also whan the peo­ple (for as moche as on a tyme they lacked corne in their graynardes, wold haue slain hym with stoones) rather than he wolde haue the sedytious persones to be punys­shed, in his owne persone declared to them the occasyon of the scarsytie, wherewith they beynge pacifyed, euery man held him contented.

¶ I had almooste forgotten a notable and Kynge. Philip. worthy remembrance of kynge Philyp, fa­ther to great kynge Alexander. It was on a tyme to hym reported, that one of his ca­pitaynes had menacinge wordes towardis hym: wherby it semed he intended somme domage towarde his personne. Wherfore his counsayle aduysed hym, to haue good awayte of the sayde capitayne, and that he were put vnderwarde. To whom the king answered, If any parte of my bodye were sycke or els sore, whether shuld I therfore cut it from the residue, and cast it from me, or els endeuour my selfe, that it mought be healed? And than he called for the said ca­pytain, and so entertayned him with familia ritie and bounteous rewardes, that euer after he hadde hym more assured and loyall, than euer he was.

[Page 129] ¶ Agesilaus, kynge of Lacedemonia, to Agesilaus hym that demanded, howe a kyng mought moste surely gouerne his realme, withoute souldiours or a garde to his person, answe­red, If he reigned ouer his people, as a fa­ther dothe ouer his children.

¶ The citie of Athenes, from whense ys­sued The .xxx. tyrātes of Athenes. all excellent doctrine and wysedome, durynge the tyme that it was gouerned by those ꝑsons, vnto whō the people mought haue a familiar accesse, and boldly expoūde their grefes and damages, prospered mer­uaylously, and duringe a longe season, rey­gned in honour and weale. Afterward the Lacedemons, by the mutabilite of fortune, vanquyshed them in battayle, and commyt­ted the citie of Athenes, to the kepynge of xxx. of their owne capitaynes, which were for their pride and auarice called tyrantes. But nowe se howe lytell suretie is in great puissaunce lacking be neuolence. nombre or strength, where lackith beneuo­lence. These .xxx. tyrantes were contynu­ally enuyronned with sondry garrysons of armed men, whiche was a terryble visage, to people that before lyued vnder the obe­dience of their lawes only. Fynally the A­thenienses, by feare beinge put from theyr accustomed accesse to their gouernours to require iustice, and therwith being fatigate as men oppressed with contynuall iniurie, [Page] toke to theym a desperate courage, and in conclusyon expelled out of the cytie all the said tyrātes, and reduced it vnto his pristi­nate gouernance.

¶ What misery was in the lyfe of Dyonise Dionyse kynge of Sicile. the tyrant of Cicile? who knowing, that his people desired his distruction, for his rauin and crueltie, wolde nat be of any man sha­uen, but firste caused his owne doughters to clyppe his bear de: And afterwarde also mystrustyng them, he hym selfe with a brē ­nynge cole seared the heares of his beard: and yet fynally was distroyed.

¶ In lyke wretchednesse was one Alexander, prince of a citie called Pherea, for he Alexander Phereus. hauynge an excellent fayre wyfe, nat onely excluded al men from her company, but al­so as often as he wolde lye with her, cer­tayne persones shulde go before hym with torches, and he folowynge with his swerd redy drawen, wolde therwith enserche the bedde, coffers, and all other places of his chaumbre, leste any manne shoulde be there hydde, to the entent to slee hym. And that nat withstandynge, by the procuremente of his sayde wyfe (who at the laste faty­gate with his mooste folyshe ialousy, con­uerted her loue into hatred) he was slayne by his owne subiectes.

¶ NOVVE DOTHE IT appere, that this [Page 130] reuerende vertue BENEVOLENCE, is of all men, moste specially of gouernours and men of honour, incomparably before other to be enbraced. The treasure of a gentylle countenaunce, swete aunsweres, ayde in ad uersitie, nat with money only, but also with studye and dylygent endeuoure, canne ne­uer be wasted, ne the loue of good people therby acquired, can be from theyr hartes in any wyse seperate. And here I make an ende to speake any more atte this tyme of Beneuolence.

Of beneficence and liberalitie. Cap. x.

ALthough philosophers, in the des­cription of vertues, haue diuised to set theym as it were in degrees, ha­uyng respect to the qualitie & condition of the persone, whiche is with theym adour­ned, as applieng Magnificence to the sub­staunce and astate of princis, and to priuate persones Beneficence and Liberalitie: yet Aristotel. Ethic. 1. ben nat these in any part defalcate of their cōdigne praises. For if vertue be an electiō annexid vnto our nature, and consisteth in a Uertue what it is. meane, which is determined by reason, and that meane is the very myddes of two thinges vycious, the one in surplusage, the o­ther in lacke: than nedes must Beneficence [Page] and Liberalitie be [...]apitall vertues, & Ma­gnificence procedeth frō them, approching to the extreme partes. And may be turned into vyce, if he lacke the brydell of reason. But Beneficence can by no meanes be vi­cious, Beneficēce and retayne styl his name. Sembla­bly Liberalitie (as Aristotle saith) is a me­sure, Liberalite as welle in gyuynge as in takynge of money and goodes. And he is onely lybe­rall, whiche distributeth accordynge to his Considerations iu gyuynge. substance, and where it is expedient. Ther fore he ought to cōsider, to whom he shuld gyue, howe moche, and whan. For lybera­litie taketh his name of the substance of the persone, from whome it procedeth: for it resteth nat in the quātitie or qualite of thin ges that be gyuen, but in the naturall disposition of the gyuer.

¶ The greate Alexander on a tyme after he had vanquyshed Darius in battayle, one Alexand. of his souldiours broughte vnto hym the heed of an ennemy that he had slayne, whi­che the kynge thankefully, and with swete countenance receyued, and takyng a cuppe of golde fylled with good wyne, sayde vn­to the sowldyour, In olde tyme a cuppe of golde was the rewarde of such vertue, as thou haste shewed, whyche semblablye thou shalt receyue. But whan the souldior for shamefastnes refused the cup, Alexāder [Page 131] added vnto it these wordes, The custome was to gyue the cuppe emptie, but Alex­ander gyueth it to the fulle of wyne, with good handsell.

¶ Wherwith he expressed his lyberal hart, and as moche comforted the souldiour, as if he had gyuen to hym a great citie.

¶ More ouer, he that is lyberalle, neglec­teth nat his substance or goodes, ne giueth Liberal. it to all men, but vseth it so, as he may con­tynually helpe therwith other, and gyueth whan, and where, and on whome it oughte to be employed. Therfore it may be saide, that he vseth euery thynge beste, that exercyseth vertue, whiche is to the thyng most appropried. For rychesse is of the nombre of thynges, that maye be eyther good or yuell, whyche is in the arbytremente of the gyuer. And for that cause Lyberalitie and Benefycence be of suche affinitie, that the one maye neuer from the other be se­perate. For the employment of moneye is nat Lyberalitie, if it be nat for a good ende or purpose.

¶ The noble emperours Antonine & Ale­xander Seuerus, gaue of the reuenues of Antonyne and liberal Alexander emperors. the empire inumerable substāce, to the re­edifieng of cities & cōmune houses decaied for age, or by erth quaues subvted, wherin they practised Liberalite & also Beneficēce.

[Page] ¶ But Tyberius, Nero, Caligula, Helio­gabalus, & other semblable monsters, whi­che Prodiga­lite. exhausted and consumed infinite trea­sures in bordell houses, and places, where abominations were vsed, also in enryching slaues, concubynes, and baudes, were nat named lyberall, but suffren therfore perpe­tual reproche of writars, beinge called de­uourers and wasters of treasure. wherfore in as moch as Lyberalitie holly resteth in the gyuynge of money, it somtyme colou­reth a vyce: But Beneficence is neuer ta­ken but in the better parte, and (as Tullie saith) is taken out of vertue, where Libe­ralitie cōmeth out of the coffer.

¶ Also where a man distributeth his sub­stance to many persons, the lasse Liberali­tie shal he vse to other: so with bounteous­nes, bountie is minyshed. Onely they that be called beneficiall, and do vse the vertue of Beneficence, whiche consisteth in coū ­saylynge, and helpynge other with any as­sistence in tyme of nede, shall alwaye fynde coadiutours & supportours of their gentyll courage. And douteles, that maner of gen tylnes, that consisteth in labour, studie, and diligēce, is more cōmendable, and extēdeth further, and also may more profite persons, than that whiche resteth in rewardes and expences. But to retourne to liberalitie.

[Page 132] ¶ What greater foly may be, thā that thing Prodiga­litie. that a man most gladly dothe, to endeuour hym with all studye, that it maye no longer be done? wherfore Tulli calleth them pro­digalle, that in inordynate feastes and ban­kettes, vayne playes, and huntynges, doo spende all theyr substance, and in those thinges, wherof they shall leaue but a short or no remembrance. Wherfore to resort to the counsaylle of Arystotle before expressed, Lyberalytie, in a noble manne specyally, is commended, all though it somewhat ex­cede the termes of measure. And yf it be well and duely employed, it acquireth per­petualle honour to the gyuer, and moche frute and syngular commoditie therby en­creaseth. For where honeste and vertu­ous personages be aduaunced, and wel re­warded, it stereth the courages of menne, whyche haue any sparke of vertue, to en­crease therin with all theyr force and en­deuoure. wherefore nexte to the helpynge and relieuyng of a communaltie, the great parte of Lyberalitie is to be employed on men of vertue and good qualities, wherin is required to be a good election and iuge ment, that for hope of rewarde or fauour, vnder the cloke of vertue, be nat hyd the moste mortall poyson of flatterie.

¶ The true description of amitie or frendeshyp. Cap. XI.

I HAVE AL redy treated of Beneuolēce and Beneficence generally. But for as moche as frendshyp, called in latin AMI­CITIA, comprehēdeth both those vertues more specially, and in an hygher degree, and is nowe so infrequente or strauuge a­monge mortall men, by the tyrannye of co­uetyse or ambition, whiche haue longe rei­gned, and yet do, that amitie may nowe v­nethe be knowen, or founde throughoute the worlde, by them that seke for her as di­lygently, as a mayden wold seke for a small syluer pynne in a great chaumber, strawed with whyte rushes. I wyl therfore borow so moche of the gentyll reder, thoughe he be nigh wery of this longe matter, barram of eloquence and pleasant sentence, and declare somewhat by the way, of verye & true frendshyp. whiche perchaunce maye be an allectiue to good men to seke for their sem­blable, on whom they may practise amitie. For as Tulli saith, Nothinge is more to be loued, or to be ioyned togyther, than simy­lytude Ci. off. i. of good maners or vertues: wher­in be the same or sēblable studies, the same wylles or desires: in them it hapneth, that one in an other as moch delyteth as in him [Page 133] selfe. But nowe let vs enserch what frend­shyp or amitie is. Ethi. vi.

¶ Aristotle saith, Frendeshyp is a vertue, or ioyneth with vertue. whiche is affirmed Tulli de amicitia. by Tulli, saying, Frendeshyppe can nat be without vertue, ne but in good men onely. Who be good men, he after declareth, to be those persones, whiche so do beare theym selues, and in suche wyse do lyue, that their faythe, suretie, equalitie, and lyberalitie, be sufficiētly proued. Ne that there is in them any couetyse, wylfulnesse, or folehardynes, and that in theym is great stabilitie or con­stance: them suppose I (as they be taken) to be called good men, whiche doo folowe (as moche as men maye) nature the chiefe capytayne or guyde of mannes lyfe More ouer, the same Tulli defyneth frendshyppe in this maner, sayinge, It is noone other thynge, but a perfect consent of al thynges appertaining aswell to god as to man, with Beneuolence and Charitie. And that he knoweth nothing gyuen of god, except sa­pience, to man more cōmodious. whiche definition is excellent & very true. For in god and all thynge that cōmeth of god, nothing is of more greatter estimation, than loue, called in latine AMOR, wherof AMICITIA cōmeth, named in englyshe frendshyppe or amitie: the whiche taken awaye frome the [Page] lyfe of man, no howse shall abide standing, no fyelde shall be in Culture. And that is lyghtly perceyued, if a man do remembre, what commeth of dissention and dyscorde, fynally he seemeth to take the sonne frome the worlde, that taketh frendshyppe from mannes lyfe.

¶ Sens frendshyp can nat be but in good men, ne may not be without vertue, we may be assured, that therof none euyl may pro­cede, or therwith any yuel thyng may par­ticipate. Wherfore in as moche as it maye be but in a fewe persones (good men being in a smalle nombre) And also it is rare and seldome, as all vertues be communely, I wyll declare after the opynion of philoso­phers, and partely by commune experiēce, who amonge good men be of nature moste apte to frendshippe.

¶ Betwene all men that be good, can nat alway be amitie, but it also requireth, that they be of semblable or moche like maners or study, and specially of maners. For Gra uitie and Affabilitie, be euery of them lau­dable qualities. So be Seueritie and Pla­cabilitie. Also Magnificence & Liberalite, be noble vertues: and yet Frugalitie, whi­che is a sobrenesse or moderation in liuing, is, and that for good cause of all wyse men extolled. Yet where these vertues and qualities [Page 134] be seperately in sondry persons assē ­bled, may welle be perfecte concorde, but frendeshyp is there seldome or neuer. For that, which the one for a vertue imbraceth, the other cōtemneth, or at the leste negle­cteth, wherfore it semeth, that it, wherein the one deliteth, is repugnāt to the others nature: And where is any repugnaunce, may be none amitie, sens frendeshyp is an entier consent of wylles and desires. Therfore it is seldome sene, that frendeshyp is betwene these persons, A man sturdy of o­pinion inflexible, and of soure countenance and speche, with hym that is tractable, and with reason perswaded, and of swete coū ­tenance and entertaynment. Also betwene hym, whiche is eleuate in auctoritie, and a nother of a very base astate or degree, ye & if they be both in an equall dignitie, if they be desyrous to clyme: as they do ascende, so frendshyp for the more parte decayeth. For as Tulli saythe, in his fyrste booke of offices, what thing so euer it be, in the whiche many can nat excelle, or haue therin su­periorytie, therein often tymes is suche a contention, that it is a thynge of all other moste difficile, to kepe amonge them good or vertuous company: that is as moche to say, as to retayne amonge them frendshyp and amitie. And it is oftentymes sene, that [Page] diuers, which before they came in autorite, were of good & vertuous condiciōs, being in their prosperitie were vtterly changed, and dispisyng their old frendes, set all their study and pleasure on their newe acquain­taunce. Wherin men shall perceyue to be a wonderfull blyndnes, or (as I mought say) a madnesse, if they note diligentely all that I shall hereafter write of frendeshyp. But nowe to resorte to speke of them, in whom frenshyp is most frequente, and they also therto be most aptely disposed.

¶ Undoutedly it be specially they, whiche be wyse, and of nature inclyned to Bene­ficence, Liberalitie, and Constance. For by wysedome is marked and substancially de­cerned the wordes, actes, and demeanure of all men, betwene whome hapneth to be any entercours or familiaritie, whereby is ingendred a fauour or disposition of loue. Beneficence, that is to saye, mutually put­tynge to their studie and helpe in necessary affaires, induceth loue. They that be lybe­rall, do withholde or hyde nothynge from them, whom they loue, wherby loue incre­seth. And in them that be constant is neuer mystruste or suspition, nor any surmyse or yuelle reporte can with drawe theym from their affection. And hereby frendeshyppe is made perpetuall and stable. But yf simi­litude [Page 135] of study or lernynge be ioyned vnto the sayde vertues, frendship moche rather hapneth, and the mutuall enteruewe and conuersation is moche more pleasaunt, spe­cially if the studies haue in them any dele­ctable affection or motion. For where they be to serious, or full of contention, frende­ship is oftentymes assaulted, whereby it is often in peryll. Where the study is elegant, and the matter illecebrous, that is to saye swete to the reder, the course wherof is rather gentyll perswasion and quicke reaso­nynges, than ouer subtyll argumente, or li­tigious controuersyes: there also it hap­neth, that the studentes do delyte one in a nother, and be without enuye or malycy­ous contention.

¶ Nowe let vs try out, what is that frend­shyppe, that we suppose to be in good men. Ueryly it is a blessed and stable connexyon of sondry wylles, makynge of two persons one, in hauynge and suffrynge. And ther­fore a frende is proprely named of Philo­sophers, the other .I. For that in theym is but one minde and one possession: and that, which more is, a man more reioyseth at his frendes good fortune, than at his owne.

¶ Horestes and Pilades, beinge wonder­ful lyke in al features, were taken to geder, and presented vnto a tirant, who deedly ha­ted [Page] Horestes. But whan he behelde them bothe, and wolde haue slayne Horestes on­ly, he coulde not decerne the one from the other: And also Pilades, to delyuer his frende, affirmed, that he was Orestes: on the other parte Orestes, to saue Pilades, denyed, and sayd, that he was Orestes (as the trouthe was) Thus a longe tyme they togyther contendynge, the one to dye for the other, at the laste so relented the fierse and cruell harte of the tyraunte, that won­dringe at theyr meruaylous frendshyp, he suffred them frely to departe, without do­inge to them any damage.

¶ Pitheas and Damō, two Pythagoriens, Pithias? Damon. that is to say, studentes of Pythagoras ler­nynge, beinge ioyned togyther in a perfect frendshyp: for that one of them was accu­sed to haue cōspired against Dionyse, kyng of Sicile, they were both takē and brought to the kynge, who immedyately gaue sen­tence, that he that was accused, shulde be put to dethe. But he desired the kinge, that er he died, he mought retourne home, to set his householde in order, and to dystribute his goodes. Whereat the kyng laughynge, demaunded of him skornfully, what pledge he wolde leaue hym, to come agayne. At the whiche wordes, his company on stepte forthe and sayde, that he wolde remayne [Page 136] there as a pledge for his frend, that in case he came not agayne, at the daye to him ap­poynted, he wyllngly wold lose his hede. Whiche condicion the tyraunte receyued. The yonge man that shuld haue died, was suffred to departe home to his hous, where he did set all thynge in order, and dysposed his goodes wysely. The day appointed for his retourne was commen, the tyme moche passed. Wherfore the kynge called for hym that was pledge. Who came forth meryly, without semblaunte of drede, offringe to a­byde the sentence of the tyraunte, and with out grudginge, to dye for the sauing the life of his frende. But as the offycer of iustyce had closed his eien with a kerchiefe, & had drawen his swerde, to haue stryken of his hede, his felowe came renning and crieng, that the daye of his appoyntmente was not yet paste: wherfore he desired the minister of iustice to lose his felowe, and to prepare to do execution on hym, that had giuen the occasion, whereat the tyraunte beynge all abashed, cōmanded both to be broughte in his presence, and whan he had inough wō ­dred at theyr noble hartes, and theyr con­stance in very frendshyp, he offring to them greate rewardes, desyred them to receyue hym into theyr company: and so doing▪ thē moche honour, dyd set them at libertie.

[Page] ¶ Undoughtedly that frendshyp, whiche doth depend eyther on profite or els in ple­sure, if the habilitie of the persone, whiche mought be profitable, do faile or diminishe, or the dispositiō of the person, which shuld be pleasaunte, do chaunge or appayre, the feruentnesse of loue cesseth, and thanne is there no frendshyp.

The wonderfull history of Titus & Gisip­pus, & wherby is fully declared the figure of perfet amitie. Ca. XII.

BUt nowe in the myddes of my labour, as it were to pause and take breth, and also, to recreate the reders, whiche fatigate with longe preceptes, desyre vari­etic of mater, or some newe pleasaunt fable or historie, I wyll reherce a righte goodly example of frendshyp, whiche example stu­diousely red, shal minister to the reders singuler pleasure, and also incredible comfort to practise amitie.

¶ There was in the cytie of Rome a noble senatour, named Fuluius, who sente his sonne, called Titus, beinge a chylde, to the citie of Athenes in Grece (whiche was the fountayne of al maner of doctrine) there to lerne good letters: and caused hym to be hosted with a worshypfull man of that citie, [Page 137] called Chremes. This Chremes hapened to haue also a sonne, named Gisippus, who not onely was equal to the sayde yong Ti­tus in yeres, but also in stature, proporcion of body, fauour, and colour of visage, coun­tenaunce and speche. The two chyldren were so lyke, that without moche difficul­tie it coulde not be decerned of theyr pro­pre parentes, which was Titus from Gisippus, or Gisippus from Titus. These two yonge gentyllmen, as they semed to be one in fourme and personage, so shortely after acquaintaunce, the same nature wrought in theyr hartes suche a mutuall affection, that theyr wylles and appetites dayly more and more so cōfederated them selues, that it se­med none other, whan theyr names were declared, but that they had only chaunged theyr places, issuing (as I mought say) out of the one body, & entringe into the other. They to gether, and at one tyme wente to theyr lernynge and studye, at one tyme to theyr meales and refectyon, they delyted bothe in one doctrine, and profyted equally therin, fynally they to gether so increased in doctrine, that within a fewe yeres, fewe within Athenes mought be compared vnto them. At the laste dyed Chremes, whiche was not onely to his lonne, but also to Ti­tus cause of moche sorowe and heuynesse. [Page] Gysippus, by the goodes of his father was knowen to be a manne of great substaunce: wherfore there were offred to hym greate and ryche mariages. And he than being of rype yeres, and of an habile & goodly per­sonage, His frendes, kinne, and alies exhorted hym busely to take a wyfe, to the entent he mought increase his lynage and proge­nye. But the yonge man, hauyng his harte all redy wedded to his frende Titus, & his minde fixed to the study of philosophie, fe­rynge that maryage shulde be the occasion to seuer him both from thone and thother, refused of longe tyme to be perswaded, vn­tyll at the laste, partly by the importunate callynge on of his kynnesmenne, partely by the consente and aduyse of his dere frende Titus, therto by other desired, he assented, to mary suche one as shulde lyke him. What shall nede any wordes? his frendes found a yonge gentyl woman, whiche in equalitie of yeres, vertuous condicions, nobilitie of blode, beaute, and sufficiente richesse, they thought was for suche a yonge man apt and conueniente. And whan they and her frē ­des vpon the cōuenantes, of mariage were throughely accorded, they counsayled Gi­sippus to repayre vnto the mayden, and to beholde howe her persone contented him. And he soo doynge, founde her in euerye [Page 138] fourme and condicion, according to his ex­pectation and apperite, whereat he moche reioysed, and became of her amorouse, in soo moche as many and often tymes, lea­uing Titus at his study, he secretely repai­red vnto her. Not with standynge the fer­uent loue that he had to his frende Titus, at the last surmounted shamefastnes. Wher­fore he dysclosed to hym his secrete iour­neyes, and what delectacion he toke in be­holding the excellent beautie of her, whom he purposed to marye: and howe with her good maners and swete enterteynemente, she had constrayned hym to be her louer. And on a tyme, he hauynge with hym his frende Titus, wente to his lady, of whom he was resceyued moste ioyously. But Ti­tus furthewith as he behelde so heuenly a personage, adourned with beautie inexpli­cable, in whose visage was mooste amiable countenaunce, myxt with maydenly shame­fastenesse, and the rare and sobre wordes, and well couched, whiche issued out of her pretye mouthe, Titus was therat abashed, and had the harte through perced with the firy darte of blynde Cupide, of the whiche wounde the anguishe was so excedyng and vehement, that neyther the study of philo­sophie, neyther the remēbrance of his dere frende Gisippus, who so moche loued and [Page] trusted hym, coulde any thyng with drawe hym from that vnkynde appetite, but that of force he muste loue inordinately that la­dy, whom his saide frende had determined to mary. Al be it with incredible paynes he kepte his thoughtes secrete, vntyll that he & Gisippus were returned vnto theyr lod­gynges. Than the myserable Titus, with­drawynge hym as it were to his studye, all turmented and oppressed with loue, threwe hym selfe on a bed, and there rebukyng his owne moste despitefull vnkyndnesse, which by the sodeyne syghte of a mayden, he had conspired agaynste his mooste dere frende Gisippus, agaynst all humanitie and reasō, cursed his fate or constellation, and wisshed that he had neuer comen to Athenes. And therwith he sente out from the botome of his harte depe and colde syghes, in suche plentie, that it lacked but litel that his hart ne was ryuen in peces. In dolour and an­guishe tossed he him selfe by a certain space but to no man wolde he dyscouer it. But at the laste, the peyne became so intollerable, that wold he or no, he was inforced to kepe his bed, beinge for lacke of slepe and other naturall sustenaunce, broughte in suche fe­blenesse, that his legges mougt not susteine his body. Gisippus, missynge his dere frēd Titus, was moche abasshed, and herynge [Page 139] that he laye sycke in his bed, had forthwith his harte perced with heuynesse, and with all spede came to hym, where he laye. And beholdynge the rosiall colour, whiche was wonte to be in his visage, tourned into sa­lowe, the resydue pale, his ruddy lyppes wan, & his eyen ledy and holowe, moughte vneth kepe hym selfe from wepyng, but to the entente he wolde not dyscomforte his frende Titus, dissimuled his heuynesse, and with a comfortable countenaunce demaun­ded of Titus, what was the cause of his di­sease, blamynge hym of vnkyndenesse, that he so longe had susteyned it, without gy­uinge hym knowlege, that he moughte for hym haue prouyded some remedye, if any mought haue begoten, though it were with the dyspendynge of all his substaunce. With which wordes the mortal syghes renewed in Titus, and the salte teares braste out of his eyen, in suche habundaunce, as it had ben a lande flode runnyng downe of a moū ­tayne after a storme. That beholdyng Gi­syppns, and beinge also resolued in to tea­res, moste hartely desired hym, and (as I mought say) coniured him, for the feruente and entier loue that had bene, and yet was betwene them, that he wold no lenger hide from hym his gryefe: and that there was nothynge to hym so deere or precyous (all [Page] though it were his owne life) that mought restore Titus to helthe, but that he shulde gladly, and without grutchynge employe it. with whiche wordes, obtestations, and teares of Gysippus, Titus constrayned, al blusshynge and asshamed, holdinge downe his hede, brought furthe with greate diffi­cultie his wordes in this wise.

¶ My dere and moste louyng frende, with The wor­des of Ti­tus to Gi­syppus. drawe your frendely offers, cesse of your courtaisie, refraine your teares and regre­tynges, take rather your knyfe and slee me here where I lye, or otherwyse take ven­geaunce on me, mooste miserable and false traytour vnto you, and of all other mooste worthy to suffre most shameful deathe. For where as god of nature, like as he hath gi­uen to vs similitude in all the partes of our body, so had he conioyned our wylles, stu­dies and appetites to gether in one, so that betwene two men was neuer like concorde and loue, as I suppose: And now, not with standynge, only with the loke of a woman, those bondes of loue be dyssolued, reason oppressed, frēdship is excluded, there auai­leth no wysedome, no doctrine, no fidelite or truste: ye your truste is the cause that I haue conspired agaynste you this treason. Alas Gysippus, what enuious spirite me­ned you to bringe me with you to her, whō [Page 140] ye haue chosen to be your wyfe, where I receyued this poyson? I saye Gysyppus, where was than your wysedom, that ye re­membred not the fragilitie of our cōmune nature? what neded you to cal me for a witnesse of your priuate delites? why wolde ye haue me see that, whiche you your selfe coulde not beholde without rauysshyng of mynde and carnall appetite? Alas why for­gate ye, that our myndes & appetites were euer one? and that also what soo ye lyked was euer to me in lyke degree pleasaunte. What wyll ye more? Gysippus I saye, your trust is the cause that I am intrapped. The rayes or beames issuynge from the eyen of her, whom ye haue chosen, with the remē ­braunce of her incomparable vertues, hath thrilled throughout the middes of my hart and in suche wyse brenneth it, that aboue althinges I desire to be out of this wretched and moste vnkinde life, whiche is not wor­thy the company of so noble and louynge a frende as ye be. And therwith Titus con­cluded his confession, with so profound and bytter a sighe, receyued with teares, that it semed, that all his body shulde be dyssol­ued and relented into salte dropes.

¶ But Gysippus, as he were therwith no­thynge The ann­swere of Gisippus. astonyed or dyscontented, with an assured countenannce, and mery regarde, [Page] imbrasynge Titus, and kyssynge hym, an­swerd in this wise. Why Titus, is this your only sickenesse and griefe, that ye so vncur [...]esely haue so longe counceyled, and with moch more vnkindnesse kept from me, than ye haue conceiued it? I knowlege my foly, wherwith ye haue with good right imbrai­ded me, that in shewyng to you her, whom I loued, I remembred not the commune a­state of our nature, ne the agreablenesse or (as I moughte saye) the vnitie of our two appetites. Suerly that defaulte can be by no reason excused. Wherfore it is onely I, that haue offended. For who may by ryght proue, that ye haue trespased, that by the ineuitable stroke of Cupides dart are thus bytterly wounded? Thynke ye me suche a sole or ignorant persone, that I knowe not the power of Uenus, where she lysteth to shewe her importable vyolence? Haue not ye wel resysted agaynste suche a goddesse, that for my sake haue stryuen with her all mooste to the deathe? What more loyal­tye or trouthe can I require of you? Am I of that vertue, that I maye resyste agaynst celestiall influence, preordynate by prouy­dence dyuine? If I so thought, what were my wyttes? where were my study so longe time spent in noble Philosophy? I confesse to you Titus, I loue that mayden as mo­che [Page 141] as any wyse man mought possyble: and toke in her company more delyte and plea­sure than of al the treasure and landes that my father lefte me, whiche ye knowe was ryght abundaunte. But nowe I perceyue, that the affection of loue towarde her sur­mouuteth in you aboue measure, what shall I thynke it of a wanton luste, or sodeyne appetite in you, whom I haue euer knowē of graue and sadde dysposytion, inclyned alwaye to honest doctrine, fleynge al vayne dalyaunce and dyshoneste passetyme? Shal I imagine to be in you any malice or fraude sens from the tender tyme of our chylde­hode, I haue alwaye founden in you, my swete frende Titus, suche a conformytye with all my maners, appetites, and desires, that neuer was seene betwene vs any ma­ner of contention? Nay god forbede, that in the frendshyppe of Gysyppus and Ti­tus, shoulde happen any suspition: or that any fantasye shulde perce my hedde, wher­by that honourable loue betwene vs shulde be the mountenaunce of a cromme, perys­shed. Nay nay Titus, it is (as I haue said) the onely prouydence of god: she was by hym from the begynnynge prepared to be your lady and wyfe. For such feruent loue entreth not in to the harte of a wyse manne and vertuous, but by a dyuyne dysposyton: [Page] whereat yf I shoulde be dyscontented▪ or grudge, I shulde not only be iniuste to you, with holdynge that from you, which is vn­doubtedly yours, but also obstinate and re­pugnant agaynst the determination of god, whiche shal neuer be founden in Gisyppus. Therfore gentyll frende Titus, dysmaye you not at the chaunce of loue, but receyue it ioyously with me, that am with you no­thinge discontented, but meruaylous glad, sens it is my happe to finde for you suche a lady, with whome ye shall lyue in felicitie, & receyue fruite to the honour and comfort of all your lynage. Here I renounce to you clerely al my title and interest, that I nowe haue or mought haue in the fayre mayden. Call to you your pristinate courage, washe clene your visage and eien thus bywepte, and abandone all heuynesse, the day apoin­ted for our mariage approcheth: let vs cō ­sulte, howe without dyfficultie ye may holy attayne your desyres. Take hede, this is myne aduise, ye knowe wel, that we two be so lyke, that beinge a parte and in one ap­parayle, fewe men do knowe vs. Also ye do remembre, that the custome is, that not withstandynge any ceremony do one at the tyme of the spousayles, the maryage not­withstandynge is not confyrmed, vntyll at night that the husbande putteth a rynge on [Page 142] the finger of his wife, and vnloseth her gir­dell. Therfore I my selfe wyll be presente with my frendes, and performe all the par­tes of a bride. And ye shall abyde in a place secrete, where I shall appoynt you, vntil it be nyghte. And than shall ye quickely con­uaie your selfe into the maydens chambre: and for the similitude of our personages, & of our apparayle, ye shall not be espyed of the women, which haue with none of vs a­ny acqueyntaunce, and shortely get you to bed, and put your owne rynge on the may­dens fynger, and vndo her gyrdell of vir­ginitie, and do all other thynge, that shalbe to your pleasure. Be nowe of good chere Titus, and comforte your selfe with good refections and solace, that this wanne and pale colour, and your chekes meygre and leane, be not the cause of your discouering. I knowe wel, that ye hauing your purpose, I shall be in obloquie & derision of all men, and soo hated of all my kynrede, that they shall seke occasion to expulse me out of this citie, thynkynge me to be a notable reproch to all my familie. But let god therin warke. I force not what payne that I abyde, soo that ye my frende Titus may be saulfe, and pleasauntly enioye your desyres, to the in­creasynge of your felicitie.

¶ VVITH these wordes Titus beganne to [Page] meue, as it were out of a dreme, and doub­tynge, whether he harde Gisyppus speke, or elles sawe but a visyon, lay styll as a man abashed. But whan he behelde the teares, tryckelynge downe by the face of Gysyp­pus, he than recomforted hym, and than­kyng hym for his incomparable kyndnesse, refused the benefyte that he offered, say­inge, that it were better, that a hundred su­che vnkynde wretches, as he was, shulde perysshe, than soo noble a manne, as was Gysippus, shulde susteyne reproche or da­mage. But Gysyppus estesones comfor­ted Titus, and therwith sware and prote­sted, that with fre and gladde wyl he wold that this thynge shulde be in fourme afore­sayde accomplysshed, and therwith inbra­ced and swetely kyssed Titus. Who percei­uynge the matter sure, and not feyned, as a man not sycke, but only awaked out of his flepe, set hym selfe vp in his bed, the quicke bloud some what resorted vnto his vysage, and after a lyttell good meates and drinkes taken, he was shortely and in a fewe dayes restored in to his old facion and figure. To make the tale shorte. The daye of mary­age was commen. Gysyppus accompanied with his alies & frendes, came to the house of the damosell, where they were honora­bly & ioyously fested. And betwene him and [Page 143] the mayden was a swete entertaynemente, whiche to beholde, all that were presente, toke moche pleasure and comfort, praysing the beautie, goodlynesse, vertue, and curte­sie, which in this couple were excellent a­boue all other, that they hadde euer sene. What shal I say more? the couenātes were radde and sealed, the dowar apointed, and all other bargaynes concluded, & the fren­des of either parte toke their leaue & dep­ted: the bride, with a fewe women (as was the custome) brought into her chambre: thā as it was before agreed, Titus conueyed hym selfe, after Gysippus retourned to his house, or perchance to the chambre appointed for Titus, nothyng sorowfull, although that he hartily loued the mayden, but with a gladde harte and countenaunce, that he hadde so recouered his frende from deth, and so well broughte hym to the effecte of his desyre. Nowe is Titus in bedde with the mayden, not knowen of her, nor of any other, but for Gysippus. And fyrste he sweetely demaunded her, if that she loued him, & dayned to take hym for her husbāde, forsakyng all other. whiche she al blushing with an eye halfe laughynge, halfe mour­nynge (as in poynte to depart frō her mai­denheed, but supposinge it to be Gysippus that asked her) affirmed. And than he efte­sones [Page] asketh her, if she in ratifieng that ꝓ­mise, wold receyue his ryng, which he had there alredy: wherto she consentyng, put­teth the rynge on her fynger, and vnloseth her gyrdell. what thynge els he dyd, they two only knewe of it. Of one thynge I am sure, that nyghte was to Titus more com­fortable, than euer was the lengest daye of the yere, ye and I suppose a hoole yere of dayes. The morowe is comen. Gysippus, thinking it expedient, that the trouth shuld be discouered, assembled all the nobilitie of the citie at his owne house, where also by appoyntemente was Titus, who amonge them had these wordes, that do folowe.

¶ My frendes Atheniēsis, there is at this The ora­tion of Titus to the Athenien­sis. tyme shewed amonge you an example, al­most incredible, of the diuine powar of honorable loue, to the perpetuall renome and cōmendatiō of this noble cite of Athenes, wherof ye ought to take excellent cōfort, & therfore gyue due thankes to god, if ther remayne amonge you any token of the an­cient wysedome of your moste noble pro­genitours. For what more prayse maye be giuen to people, thā beneuolence, faithful­nesse, and constance? withoute whome all countrayes and cities be brought vnto de­solation and ruyne, like as by them they be come prosperous, and in mooste high feli­licitie. [Page 144] What shall I longe tary you in con­iectyng myne intent and meanynge? Ye all know, from whens I came vnto this citie, that of auēture I foūd in the hous of Chre mes his sonne Gysippus, of min owne age, and in euery thing so lyke to me, that ney­ther his father, nor any other man coulde discerne of vs the one frome the other, but by our owne insignement or shewynge: in so moch as there were put about our nec­kes lacis of sondry colours, to daclare our personages. what mutuall agrement & loue haue ben alwaye betwene vs, durynge the eyght yeres, that we haue ben togither, ye all be witnesses, that haue ben beholders & wonderars of our most swete conuersation and cōsent of appetites, wherin was neuer any discorde or variaunce. And as for my part, after the decesse of my father, natwith standinge that there was discended & hap­ned vnto me great possessiōs, fayre houses, with abundance of riches: also I being cal­led home by the desirous & importunate let ters of myn alies and frendes, which be of the moste noble of all the senatours, offred the aduancement to the highest dignities in the publike weale, I wyll nat remembre the lamentations of my moste naturall mo­ther, expressed in her tender letters, all be sprent and blotted with abūdāce ofteares, [Page] wherin she accuseth me of vnkyndnesse, for my longe taryenge, and speciallye nowe in her moste discomforte. But all this coulde nat remoue me the breadthe of my naylle frome my dere frende Gysippus. And but by force coulde nat I, nor yet may be dra­wen from his swete cōpany, but yf he ther­to wylle consente. I choosynge rather to lyue with hym, as his company on and fe­lowe, ye and as his seruaunt, rather than to be consull of Rome. Thus my kyndenes hath be wel acquyted (or as I mought say) redoubled, delyueryng me from the deth, ye from the moste cruel and peynefull deth of all other. I perceyue ye wonder here­at noble Atheniensis, and noo meruayle. For what person shulde be so hardy, to at­tempte any suche thyng ageynst me, being a Romayne, and of the noble blode of the Romaynes? Or who shulde be thought so malicious, to slee me, who (as all ye be my iuges) neuer trespassed agaynste any per­sone within this citie? Nay nay my frēdes, I haue none of you all therin suspected. I perceyue ye desyre and harken to knowe, what he was, that presumed to do so cruell and great an enterprise. It was loue, noble Atheniensis, the same loue, which (as your poetes doo remembre) dydde wounde the more parte of all the goddis, that ye doo [Page 145] honour, that constrayaed Iupiter to trans­fourme hym selfe in a swanne, a bulle, and dyuers other likenesses: the same loue that caused Hercules, the vaynquysher and di­stroyer of Monsters & Giauntes, to spinne on a rocke, syttynge amonge maydens in a womannes apparayle: the same loue that caused to assemble all the noble pryncis of Asia and Grece in the fieldes of Troy: the same loue I saye, agaynste whose assaultes may be founde no defence or resistēce, hath sodainely and vnware stryken me vnto the harte, with suche vehemence and myghte, that I had in shorte space dyed with moste feruent tourmentes, hadde nat the incom­parable frendship of Gysippus holpen me. I see, you wolde fayne knowe, who she is, that I loued. I wyll no lenger delaye you noble Atheniensis: It is Sophronia, the lady, whom Gysippus had chosen to haue to his wyfe, and whome he moste entierly loued. But whan his mooste gentyll harte perceyued, that my loue was in a moche hygher degree than his toward that lady, and that it proceded neither of wantōnes, neyther of longe conuersation, nor of any other corrupte desyre or fantasie, but in an instant, by the onely looke, and with suche feruence, that īmediatly I was so cruciate, that I desired, & in all that I mought pro­uoked [Page] deth to take me. He by his wisedom so one perceyued, (as I doute nat but that ye do) that it was the very prouisiō of god, that she shuld be my wyfe, & nat his. wherto he giuynge place, and more estemyng true frendship, than the loue of a woman, wher vnto he was induced by his frendes, & nat by violence of Cupide cōstrayned as I am, hath willyngly graunted to me the interest that he hadde in the damosell. And it is I Titus, that haue verily weded her, I haue putte the rynge on her fynger, I haue vn­do one the gyrdell of shame fastenes. what wylle ye more, I haue lyen with her, and confyrmed the Matrymonye, and made her a wyfe.

¶ At these wordes all they that were pre­sent, began to murmure, and to caste a dis­dainous and greuous loke vpon Gisippus. Than spake ageyne Titus.

¶ LEAVE YOVR grudgynges and me­nasynge countenaunce, towarde Gysyp­pus, he hath doone to you all honour, and no dede of reproche. I telle you, he hath accomplyshed all the partes of a Frende: that Loue, whyche was mooste certayne, hath he contynued. He knew, he mought fynd in Greece an other maiden, as faire & as ryche as this that he had chosen, & one perchaunce, that he mought loue better. [Page 146] But suche a frende, as I was (hauyng re­spect to our similitude, the longe approued concorde, also myne astate and condytion) he was sure to fynde neuer none. Also the damosell suffereth no disper gemente in hyr bloode, or hynderance in her mariage, but is moche rather aduaunced (no dyspreyse to my dere frende Gysippus). Also cōsider noble Atheniensis, that I toke her nat my father lyuynge, whan ye mought haue sus­pected, that as well her ryches as her be­autie, shoulde haue therto allured me: but soone after my fathers decease, whan I far exceded her in possessions and substance, whan the moste notable men of Rome and of Italy, desired myn aliāce. Ye haue ther­fore all cause to reioyse and thanke Gysip­pus, and nat to be angry, and also to extoll his wonderfulle kyndenesse towarde me, wherby he hath wonne me and al my blode suche frendes to you and your cytie, that ye may be assured, to be by vs defended a­gaynst all the worlde: whiche beinge con­sidered, Gisippus hath well deserued a sta­tue or ymage of golde, to be set on a piller, in the myddes of your citie, for an hono­rable monumente, in the remembraunce of our incomparable frēdshyp, & of the good that therby may come to your citie. But if this persuasion can nat satisfie you, but that [Page] ye wyll imagyne any thyng to the damage of my dere frende Gysippus, after my de­partynge, I make myne auowe vnto god, creatour of all thynge, that as I shall haue knowlege therof, I shall furth with resorte hyther, with the inuyncible power of the Romaynes, and reuenge him in suche wyse against his enmies, that al Grece shal speke of it to their perpetuall dishonour, shame, and reproche.

¶ And therwith Titus & Gysippus roose, but the other for feare of Titus dissembled their malyce, makynge semblaunt, as they had ben with all thynge contented.

¶ Sone after Titus, beinge sent for by the auctorite of the senate and peple of Rome, prepared to departe out of Athenes, And wolde faine haue hadde Gysippus to haue goone with hym, offrynge to deuyde with hym all his substance and fortune. But Gy­sippus, considerynge howe necessarye his counsayle shuld be to the citie of Athenes, wolde nat depart out of his countray, nat withstandynge that aboue all erthly thyn­ges, he most desired the company of Titꝰ: whiche abode also, for the sayd considera­tion, Titus approued.

¶ Titus with his lady, is departed towar­des the citie of Rome. Where at their cō ­mynge, they were of the mother of Titus, [Page 147] his kynsemen, and of al the senate and peo­ple ioyously receyued. And there liued Ti­tus with his lady in ioye inexplycable, and had by her many faire children: and for his wysedome and lernynge was so hyghely e­stemed, that there was no dignitie or hono­rable offyce within the Citie, that he hadde not with moche fauour and prayse a chye­ued and occupied.

¶ But now let vs resorte to Gisippus, who immediately vpon the departing of Titus, was soo malygned at, as well by his owne kynsemen, as by the frendes of the ladye, that he, to theyr semynge shamefully aban­doned, lcauynge her to Titus, that they spared not dayly to vexe hym with all kyn­des of reproche, that they coulde deuyse or imagine: and fyrste they excluded hym out of theyr counsayle, and prohibited from hym al honest company. And yet not being therewith satisfyed, fynally they adiuged hym vnworthy to enioye any possessions or goodes, left to hym by his parentes, whō he (as they supposed) by his vndescrete frendshyppe had so dystayned. Wherfore they dyspoyled hym of all thynges, and al­moste naked, expelled him out of the citie. Thus is Gysippus, late welthy, and one of the mooste noble men of Athenes, for his kynde harte, banysshed his owne countrey [Page] for euer, and as a man dysmayed, wandring hyther and thyther, fyndynge no man that wolde socour hym. At the last, remembring in what plesure his frend Titus liued with his lady, for whom he suffred these dama­ges, concluded to go to Rome, and declare his infortune to his said frend Titus. What shall nede a longe tale? in conclusyon, with moche peyne, colde, hunger, and thurste, he is commen to the citie of Rome, and di­ligently enquiringe for the house of Titus, at the laste he came to it: but beholdinge it so beauteous, large, and pryncely, he was ashamed to approche nygh to it, beynge in so symple astate and vnklad, but standeth by, that in case Titus came forth out of his howse, he moughte presente hym selfe to hym. He beynge in this thoughte, Titus holdynge his lady by the hande, issued out from his doore, and takynge theyr horses to solace them selfe, beheld Gisyppus: and beholdynge his vyle apparayle, regarded hym not, but passed furthe on theyr waye, wherewith Gysippus was soo wounded to the harte, thynkynge Titus had contemp­ned his fortune, that oppressed with mortal heuynes, fell in a sowne, but beynge reco­uered by some that stode by, thynkyng him to be syeke, furth with departed, entending not to abide any lenger, but as a wilde beast [Page 148] to wander abrode in the worlde. But for werinesse he was constrayned to entre into an olde barne, without the citie, where he castinge him selfe on the bare gronde, with wepynge and dolorous cryenge bewayled his fortune: But moste of all accusynge the ingratitude of Titus, for whom he suffred all that mysery: the remembraunce wherof was so intollerable, that he determined no lenger to lyue in that anguyshe and dolour. And therwith drewe his knyfe, purposyng to haue slayne hym selfe. But euer wyse­dome (whiche he by the study of Philoso­phy had attayned) withdrewe hym frome that desperate acte. And in this contentiō, betwene wysedome and wyll, fatigate with long iournaies and watche, or as god wold haue it, he fell into a dede slepe. His knyfe (wherwith he wolde haue slayne him selfe) fallyng downe by hym. In the meane time a commune and notable rufyan or thefe, whiche hadde robbed and slayne a manne, was entred into the barne, where Gysyp­pus laye, to the intente to soiorne there all that nyghte. And seyng Gisippus bewept, and his visage replenysshed with sorowe, and also the naked knyfe by hym, percey­ued well, that he was a man desperate, and supprised with heuynesse of harte, was we­rye of his lyfe: whiche the sayde rufyan [Page] takynge for a good occasion to escape, toke the knyfe of Gysyppus, and puttynge it in the wounde of hym that was slayne, put it all blody in the hande of Gysyppus, beinge faste a slepe, and so departed. Soone after the dedde man beinge founde, the officers made dyligente serche for the murderar: at the laste they entringe into the barne, and fyndinge Gisippus on slepe, with the blody knife in his hande, awaked hym, wherwith he entred agayne in to his olde sorowes, complaynynge his yuel fortune. But whan the officers layde vnto him the death of the man, and the hauynge of the blody knyfe, he thereat reioysed, thankynge god, that suche occasiō was hapned, wherby he shuld suffre deathe by the lawes, and escape the vyolence of his owne handes. Wherfore he denyed nothynge that was layde to his charge, desyryng the officers to make hast that he mought be shortely out of his lyfe. Whereat they meruayled. Anone reporte came to the senate, that a man was slayne, and that a straunger, and a Greeke borne, was founde in suche fourme, as is before mencioned. They forthwith commaunded hym to be brought vnto theyr presence, sit­tynge there at that tyme Titus, being than Consull, or in other lyke dignitie. The mi­serable Gisippus was brought to the barr̄, [Page 149] with billes and staues like a felon, of whom it was demaunded, if he slewe the man, that was foundended. he nothynge denyed, but in most sorowfull maner cursed his fortune, namynge hym selfe of all other moste mise­rable. At the laste one demaundynge hym, of what coūtrey he was, he confessed to be an Atheniense, and therwith he cast his so­rowfull eyen vppon Titus, with moche in­dignation, and braste oute into syghes and teares abundauntly: that beholdynge Ti­tus, and espienge by a lyttel sygne in his vi­sage, which he knewe, that it was his dere frende Gisyppus, and anone consideringe, that he was brought into dyspayre by some my saduenture, rose out of his place, where he sate, and falling on his knees before the iuges, sayd, that he had slayne the man, for olde malyce that he bare towarde him, and that Gysippus, being a straunger, was gilt­les, and all men mought perceyue, that the other was a desperate person. wherfore to abbreuiate his sorowes, he confessed the acte, wherof he was innocent, to the intent that he wold finishe his sorowes with deth. Wherfore Titus desyred the iuges, to giue sentence on hym, accordynge to his mery­tes. But Gysippus, perceyuynge his frēde Titus (contrary to his expectation) to of­fre hym selfe to the deathe, for his saulfe [Page] garde, more importunately cried to the se­nate to procede in theyr iugement on hym, that was the very offēdar. Titus denied it, and affirmed with reasons and argumētes, that he was the murderer, and not Gisyp­pus. Thus they of longe tyme, with abun­daunce of teares contēded, which of them shuld die for the other, wherat all the Se­nate and people were wonderly abasshed, not knowyng what it ment. The murderer in dede, hapned to be in the prease at that time, who perceiuing the meruaylous con­tention of these two persones, which were bothe innocēt, & that it proceded of an incō parable frendship, was vehemently prouo­ked to dyscouer the trouthe. Wherfore he brake through the prease, and cōminge be­fore the senate, spake in this wise,

¶ Noble fathers, I am such a persō, whom ye knowe haue ben a cōmune baratour and thefe by a long space of yeres: ye know al­so, that Titus is of a noble bloude, and is a proued to be alway a man of excellent ver­tue and wysedome, and neuer was malyci­ous. This other strāger semeth to be a mā full of simplicitie, and that more is, despe­rate for some greuous sorowe that he hath taken, as it is to you euidente. I say to you fathers, they both be innocente, I am that person, that slewe hym, that is foundēded [Page 150] by the barne, and robbed him of his money, and whan I founde in the barne this stran­ger lyenge on slepe, hauinge by hym a na­ked knyfe: I, the better to hyde myne of­fence, dyd put the knife into the wounde of the ded man, and so al blody laide it agayne by this stranger. This was my mischeuous deuise to escape your iugement. Where vn­to nowe I remit me holy, rather than this noble man Titus, or this innocent stranger shulde vnworthely die.

¶ Here at all the Senate and people toke comforte, and the noise of reioysing hartes filled all the courte. And whan it was fur­ther examined, Gisippus was dyscouered, the frendship betwene hym and Titus was through out the citie publysshed, extolled, & magnified. Wherfore the Senate consul­ted of this mater, and fynally at the instāce of Titus and the peple, dyscharged the fe­lon. Titus recognysed his neglygence, in forgettynge Gisippus. And Titus beinge aduertised of the exile of Gisippus, and the dipiteful crueltie of his kynrede, was ther­with wonderfull wrath, and hauinge Gisip­pus home to his hous (where he was with incredible ioye receiued of the lady, whom somtyme he shulde haue wedded) honora­bly apparyled him: and there Titus offred to hym, to vse al his goodes and possessiōs [Page] at his owne pleasure and appetite. But Gi­sippus, desyrynge to be agayne in his pro­pre countrey, Titus by the consente of the Senate and people, assembled a gret army, and wente with Gysyppus vnto Athenes: where he hauing deliuered to him al those, whiche were causers of banysshynge and dyspoylynge of his frende Gysyppus, dyd on them sharpe execution: and restorynge to Gysyppus his landes and substance, sta­blyshed hym in perpetuall quietnes, and so retourned to Rome.

¶ This exaumple in the affectes of frend­shyp, expresseth (if I be not deceyued) the description of frendeshyppe, engendred by the symilitude of age and personage, aug­mented by the conformitie of maners and studies, and confirmed by the longe conti­nuance of company.

¶ It wolde be remembred, that frendship None euil maye be in frendship. is betwene good men onely, and is ingen­dred of an opinion of vertue. Than may we reason in this fourme, A good man is so na­med, bycause all that he wylleth or doth, is only good: in good can be none euyl, ther­fore nothynge that a good man wylleth or dothe, can be euyl. Lykewyse vertue is the affection of a good man, which neither wil­leth nor dothe any thynge that is euyl. And vice is contrary vnto vertue, for in the o­pinion [Page 151] of vertue, is neyther euyll nor vyce. And very amytie is vertue. wherfore no­thynge euyll or vycyous maye happen in frendshyp. Therfore in the fyrste election of frendes, resteth al the importāce, wher­fore it wold not be without a longe belibe­ration and profe, and as Aristotle sayth, in Ethie. as longe tyme as by them bothe, beinge to gether conuersaunt, a hole busshell of salte mought be eten. For oftentymes with for­tune (as I late sayd) is chaunged, or at the least minished the feruentnesse of that affe­ction, according as the swete Poete Duide affirmeth, sayinge in this sentence,

¶ But if any hapneth in euerye fortune to be constant in frendshippe, he is to be made of aboue all thynges that maye come vnto man, and aboue any other that be of bloude or kynrede, as Tulli sayth. For from kyn­rede maye be taken Beneuolence, frome frendshippe it can neuer be seuered. Wher­fore [Page] Beneuolence taken from kynrede, yet the name of kynseman remayneth: take it from frendshyp, and the name of frendship is vtterly peryshed.

¶ But sens this liberte of speche is nowe Howe to discernea frēd from a flatterer. vsurped by flaterers, where they perceiue, that assentation and praises be abhorred: I am therfore not well assured, howe a man nowe a dayes shal knowe or dyscerne suche admonicion from flatery, but by one onely meanes, that is to saye, to remembre, that frēdship maye not be but betwene good mē. Than consider, if he that doth admonysshe the, be hym selfe voluptuous, ambicious, couetous, arrogant, or dissolute, refuse not his admonicion, but by the example of the em­perour Antonine, thākefully take it: and a­mende suche defaulte, as thou perceyueste, doth gyue occasion of obloqui in suche ma­ner as the reporter also by thyne exaumple maye be corrected. But for that admonici­on onely, accompt hym not immediatly, to be thy frend, vntyl thou haue of hym a lōge and sure experience. For vndoubtedly it is wonderful difficile, to fynde a man very am­bitious or couetous, to be assured in frend­shyp. For where fyndest thou hym (saythe Tulli) that wyl not prefer honoures, great offices, rule, autoritie, and rychesse before frendshyp? Therfore (sayth he) it is very [Page 152] harde to fynde frendshyp in them, that be occupied in acquiring honour, or about the affayres of the publyke weale. Which say­inge is proued trewe by dayly experience. For dysdayne and contempt be companiōs with ambition, lyke as enuye and hatered be also her folowers.

The diuision of Ingratitude, and the dysprayse therof. Ca. XIII.

THe most damnable vice, and moste a­gaynst iustice, in myn opinion, is IN­GRATITVDE, commenly called vn­kindnesse. All be it, it is in diuers formes, and of sondry importaunce, as it is discry­bed by Seneca in this fourme.

¶ He is vnkynde, whiche denyeth to haue receyued any benefite, that in dede he hath receyued, He is vnkynde, that dissimuleth, he is vnkynde, that recompenseth not: But he is moste vnkynde, that forgetteth. For the other, though they render not agayne kindnesse, yet they owe it, and there remai­neth some steppes or tokēs of desertes, in­closed in an yuel conscience, and at the laste by some occasion maye hap to retourne to yelde agayne thankes, whan eyther shame therto prouoketh them, or sodeyne desyre of thynge, that is honest, whiche is wonte [Page] to be for that tyme in stomackes, thoughe they be corrupted, if a lyghte occasyon do moue them. But he that forgetteth kinde­nesse, maye neuer be kynde, sens al the be­nefite is quite fallen from hym: And where lacketh remembraunce, there is no hope of any recompence.

¶ In this vice, men be moche warse than Kyndenes in bestis. beastes. For dyuers of them wyl remembre a benefytte, longe after they receyued it. The courser, fierse and couragious, wyll gladely suf [...]re his keper, that dresseth and fedeth hym, to vaunte hym easely, and ste­reth not, but whan he lystethe to prouoke hym: where if any other shulde ryde hym, thoughe he were a kynge, he wyl stere and plonge, and endeuour hym selfe to throwe hym. Suche kyndenesse hath ben founden Kidnes in dogges. in dogges, that they haue not only dyed in defendynge theyr maysters, but also some, after theyr maisters haue died or ben slaine, haue absteyned from meate, and for famine haue dyed by theyr maysters.

¶ Plini remembreth of a dogge, whiche in Epiro (a contrey in Grece) so assaulted the murdrer of his mayster in a great assembly of people, that with barkynge and bytynge he compelled hym at the laste, to confesse his offence.

[Page 153] ¶ The dogge also of one Iayson, his mai­ster beinge slayne, wolde neuer eate meate, but dyed for hunger.

¶ Many sēblable tokens of kindnesse Pli­ni reherseth, but principally one of his own tyme, worthy to be here remembred.

¶ Whan execution shoulde be done on one Titus Habinius and his seruantes, one of them had a dogge, whiche moughte neuer be dryuen from the pryson, nor neuer wold departe from his maysters body: and whā it was taken from the place of executiō, the dogge houled mooste lamentably, beynge compased with a great nombre of people, of whom whan one of them had cast meate to the dogge, he brought and laide it to the mouthe of his maister. And whā the corps was throwen in to the ryuer of Tiber, the dogge swamme after it, and as longe as he moughte, inforced hym selfe to beare and susteyne it, the people scateryng abrode to beholde the faythfulnesse of the beaste.

¶ Also the Lyon, whiche of all other bea­stes is accounted mooste fierce and cruell, hath ben founden to haue in remembraunce a benefite shewed vnto hym.

¶ Aul. Bellius remembreth out of the hy­story of Appion, howe allon, out of whose fote a yonge man had ones taken a stubbe, and clensed the wounde, wherby he waxed hole, after knewe the same man, being cast [Page] to him to be deuoured, and wolde not hurt hym, but lyckynge the legges and handes of the man, whiche laye dysmayde, lokinge for deathe, toke acquaintaunce of him, and euer after folowed hym, beynge ladde in a small lyam, whereat wondred all they that behelde it. Whiche hystorie is wonderfull pleasaunte, but for the lengthe therof I am constrayned to abrege it.

¶ Howe moche be they repugnaunte, and (as I moughte saye ennemies) bothe to nature and reason, whiche beynge aduaun­ced by any good fortune, wyll contemne or neglecte suche one, whom they haue longe knowē, to be to them Beneuolent, and ioy­ned to them in a sincere and assured frend­shyppe, approued by infallible tokens, ra­tifyed also with sondry kyndes of benefy­cence? I require not suche excellant frendshyppe, as was betwene Pitheas and Da­mon, betwene Horestes and Pilades, or be twene Gysyppus and Titus, of whome I haue before wrytten (for I fyrmely beleue, they shall neuer happen in payres or cou­ples) nor I seke not for suche as will alway prefer the honour or profyte of theyr frēde before theyr owne, ne (which is the leaste parte of frendshyppe) for such one as desi­rously wyll participate with his frende all his good fortune or substaunce. But where [Page 154] at this daye maye be founden suche frend­shyppe betwene two, but that if fortune be Frēdship of tyme. more Beneuolente to the one, than to the other, the frendeshyppe waxeth tedyous, and he that is aduaunced, desyrethe to be matched with one hauynge semblable for­tune? And if any damage hapeneth to his olde frende, he pytyeth hym, but he soro­weth not, and thoughe he seeme to be so­rowfull, yet he helpeth not: and thoughe he wolde be sene to helpe hym, yet trauai­leth he nat: And though he wolde be sene to trauayle, yet he suffreth not. For (let vs laye a parte assystence with moneye, why­che is a very small portion of frendeshyp) who wyll so moche esteme frendshyp, that therefore wyll entre in to the dyspleasure, not of his prynce, but of them, whome he supposeth may mynysshe his estimation to­wardes his prince, ye and that moche lesse is, wyll displease his newe acquayntaunce, equall with hym in auctorite or fortune, for the defence, helpe, or aduauncement of his auncient and well approued frende? O the moste miscrable astate at this present tyme of mankynde, that for the thynge, whiche is mooste propre vnto them, the exaumple muste be founden amonge the sauage and syerce beastes.

The election of frendes, and the diuer­site of flaterers. Cap. XIIII.

A Noble man aboue all thynge oughte to be very circumspecte, in the ele­ctiō of suche men, as shulde continu­ally attende vpon his persone, at tymes va­cante from busye affayres, whom he maye vse as his familiars, and saufely commytte to thē his secretes. For as Plutarche saith, what so euer he be that loueth, doteth, and is blynde in that thynge, whiche he dothe Plutarchꝰ de cognoscēdo ami­co ab adu­latore. loue: excepte by lernyng he can accustome hym selfe to ensue and sette more pryce by those thynges, that be honeste and vertu­ous, than by them that he seeth in expery­ence, and be familiarly vsed. And suerly as the wormes do brede mooste gladly in softe wode and swete, so the mooste gentyll and noble wyttes, inclined to honour, repleni­shed with most honest and curtaise maners, do sonest admytte flaterars, and be by them abused. And it is no meruayle. For lyke as the wylde corne, beinge in shape and greatnesse lyke to the good, if they be mengled, with great difficultie wyll be tryed out, but either in a narowe holed seeue they wyl stil abide with the good corne, orelles, where the holes be large, they wyll issue out with the other: soo flattery from frendshyppe is [Page 155] hardely seuered, for as moche as in euery motion and affect of the minde, they be mu­tually mengled together. Of this peruerse and cursed people be sondry kindes, Some apparantly do flatter, praysynge and extol­lynge euery thing that is done by theyr su­perior, and bearynge him on hande, that in hym it is of euery man commended, which of trouthe is of al men abhorred and hated, to the affyrmaunce wherof they adde to o­thes, adiurations, and horrible curses, of­fryng them selfes to eternal peynes, except theyr reporte be true. And if they perceiue any parte of theyr tale mistrusted, thā they sette forthe sodeynely an heuy and sorow­full countenaunce, as if they were abiected and brought into extreme desperation. O­ther there be, which in a more honest terme maye be called Assentatours or folowers, whiche do awayte diligently, what is the fourme of the speche and gesture of theyr mayster, and also other his maners and fa­cion of garmentes: and to the imytatiō and resemblaunce therof they applie theyr stu­dy, that for the simylitude of maners they maye the rather be accepted in to the more famyliar acquaintaunce. Lyke to the ser­uauntes of Dionyse, kynge of Sicile, whi­che al thoughe they were inclined to al vn­happynes and myschiefe, yet after the com [Page] mynge of Plato, perceyuynge, that for his doctrine and wysedome the kinge had him in highe estimation, they than counterfay­ted the countenāce and habite of the Phi­losopher, therby encreasynge the kynges fauour towardes them, who than was ho­ly gyuen to study of Philosophye. But af­ter that Dionyse, by theyr incitation hadde expelled Plato out of Sicile, they abando­ned theyr habite and seueritie, and estsones retourned to theyr mischeuous and volup­tuous lyuinge.

¶ The greate Alexaunder bare his hedde some parte on the one syde, more than the other, whiche diuers of his seruantes dyd counterfayte.

¶ Semblably dyd the scholers of Plato, the most noble Philosopher, whiche for as moche as theyr mayster had a brode breste, and hygh shulders, and for that cause was named Plato, whiche sygnifyeth brode or large, they stuffed theyr garmentes, and made on theyr shulders greate bolsters, to seme to be of like fourme as he was. wher­by he shulde conceyue some fauour towar­des them, for the demōstration of loue that they pretēded in the ostentation of his per­son. Which kinde of flatery I suppose Pla­to coulde right well laugh at.

¶ But these maner of flaterars may be well [Page 156] founde out and perceyued by a good witte, whiche sometyme by hym selfe dyligentely considereth his owne qualities and natural appetite. For the company or communica­tion of a person familiar, whiche is alwaye pleasaunte and without sharpnes, inclinyng to inordinate fauour and affection, is alway to be suspected.

¶ Also there is in that frende small cōmo­ditie, whiche foloweth a man lyke his sha­dowe, meuynge only whan he meueth, and abiding where he list to tary. These be the mortall enemyes of noble wyttes, and specially in youthe, whanne communely they be more inclined to glory than grauite. Wher­fore that Liberalitie, which is on suche fla­terers imployed, is not onely perished, but also spilled & deuoured. Wherfore in myne opinion, it were a right necessary lawe, that shulde be made to put suche persons open­ly to tortures, to the fearefull exaumple of other, sens in all pryncys lawes (as Plu­tarche sayth) not onely he that hath slayne the kinges sonne and heyre, but also he that counterfayteth his seale, or adulteratethe his coyne, with more base mettall, shall be iudged to dye as a traytour. In reason how Flateri ꝑ­nicions to gentyl na­ture. moche more peine (if there were any gret­ter peyne thanne deathe) were he worthy to suffre, that with false adulation, dothe [Page] corrupte and adulterate the gentil and ver­tuous nature of a noble man, whiche is not only his image, but the very man hym selfe? For without vertue man is but in the num­bre of beastes. And also by peruerse instru­ction and flatery, suche one sleeth both the soule and good renome of his maister. By whose example and negligence peryssheth also an infinite numbre of persones, whiche domage to a realme neyther with treasure ne with power can be redoubed.

¶ But harde it is, alway to exchewe these flaterers, whiche lyke to crowes, do pyke out mennes eyes er they be ded. And it is to noble men moste difficile, whom all men couayte to please, and to dysplease them it is accounted no wysedome, perchance lest there shulde ensue therby more peryl than profytte.

¶ Also Carneades, the Philosopher, was Plutarchꝰ de libe. e­ducandi. A notable exaumple. wonte to saye, that the sonnes of noble men men lerned nothynge well but only to ride. For whiles they lerned letters, theyr may­sters flattered them, praysyng euery word that they spake. In wrastlynge theyr tea­chers and companions also flattered them, submyttyng them selfes, and falling downe to theyr fete: But the horse or courser, not vnderstandynge who rydeth hym, ne whe­ther he be a gentyll man or yoman, a ryche [Page 157] man or a poore, if he syt not surely, and can skyl of ridynge, the horse casteth him quic­kely. This is the sayinge of Carneades.

¶ There be other of this sort, which more Subtyll flatterers. Ex Plu­tarcho de cogn. ami­co ab adu latore. couertly laye theyr snares to take the har­tes of princis and noble menne. And as he, whiche entendeth to take the fierse & mighty lyon, pytcheth his haye or nette in the woode amonge greatte trees and thornes, where as is the mooste haunte of the lyon, that beinge blynded with the thyckenes of the couerte, maye er he be ware, sodeyne­ly tumble into the nette: where the hunter seelynge bothe his eyen, and byndinge his legges strongly to gether, fynally daunteth his fiercenesse, and maketh hym obediente to his ensygnes and tokens. Semblablye there be some, that by dyssimulation can o­stente or shewe a hyghe grauitie, mixt with a sturdy enterteinment and facion, exilinge them selfes from all pleasure and recreati­on, frownyng and gruching at euery thing, wherin is any myrth or solace, all though it be honest, tauntynge and rebukyug immo­derately them, with whome they be not cō ­tented, Namyng them selfes therfore plain men, althoughe they do the semblable, and often tymes warse in theyr owne howses. And by a simplicitie and rudenesse of spea­kynge, with longe delyberation vsed in the [Page] same, pretende the hygh knowlege of coū ­sayle to be in them onely: and in this wyse pytchynge theyr net of adulation, they in­trap the noble and vertuous harte, whiche onely beholdeth theyr fained seueritie and counterfayte wysedome, and the rather by cause this maner of flatery is moste vnlyke to that, whiche is communely vsed.

¶ Aristotell in his politykes, exorteth go­uernours, Many frē ­des neces­sary for a gouernor. to haue theyr frendes for a great numbre of eyen, eares, handes, and legges, considerynge that no one man maye see or here all thynge, that many men may se and here: ne can be in all places, or do as many thynges well, at one tyme, as many persōs maye do. And often times a beholder or lo­ker on, espieth a defaulte, that the doer for­getteth or skyppeth ouer: whiche caused the emperour Antonine to ēquire of many, what other men spake of hym, correctinge therby his defautes, whiche he perceyued to be iustely reproued.

¶ This I truste shal suffise, for the expres­synge of that incomparable treasure, cal­led amytie: in the declaration wherof I haue aboden the longer, to the intente to perswade the reders, to enserche therfore vigilantly, and beinge so happy to fynde it, accordinge to the sayde description, to em­brace and honour it, abhorrynge aboue all [Page 158] thynges ingratytude, whiche pestylence hath longe tyme raygned amonge vs, aug­mented by detraction, a corrupte and loth­ly syckenesse, wherof I wyll trayte in the laste parte of this warke, that men of good nature espienge it, nede not (if they list) be therwith deceyued.

Of the noble and moste excellent ver­tue, named Iustice. Ca. I.

THE MOSTE EXCELLENTE and incōparable vertue, cal­led IVSTICE, is soo neces­sary and expediēt for the gouernour of a publyke weale, that without it, none other vertue maye be commendable, ne wytte or any maner of doctryne profytable. Tulli Offic. i. Frō whēs the name of a kynge fyrste pro­ceded. saithe, At the beginninge, whan the multi­tude of people were opressed by them that abounded in possessions and substance, they espienge some one, whiche excelled in ver­tue and strengthe, repayred to hym: who ministringe equitie, whan he had defended the poore men from iniurie, finally retained [Page] together and gouerned the greatter per­sones with the lasse, in an equal and indiffe­rent ordre. Wherfore they called that man a kynge, which is as moche to say, as a ru­ler. And as Aristotell sayth, Iustice is not only a portion or spice of vertue, but is en­tierly the same vertue. And therof onelye (sayth Tulli) men be called good menne, as who saythe, without Iustice, al other qua­lites and vertues cānot make a man good.

¶ The auncient Ciuilians saye, Iustyce is a wyll perpetuall and constaunt, which gy­ueth to euery man his ryght. In that it is named constant, it importeth fortitude: in discernyng what is righte or wronge, pru­dence is required: And to proporcion the sentence or iugement, in an equalitie, it be­longeth to temperance. Al these together conglutinate and effectually executed, ma­keth a perfecte definicion of iustice.

¶ Iustice, all thoughe it be but one entyer vertue, yet is it described in two kyndes or spyces, the one is named Iustyce distrybu­tyue, whiche is in dystrybution of honour, money, benefyte, or other thynge sembla­ble: the other is called commutatiue or by Iustice cō mutatif. Diortho­tica. Iustice correctif. exchaunge. And of Aristotel it is named in Greke DIORTHOTICE, whiche is in en­glyshe correctiue. And thatparte of Iu­styce is conteyned in intremedelynge, and [Page 159] somtyme is voluntary, sometyme involun­tary intermedlynge. Uoluntary is byenge or sellynge, loue, suertie, lettynge, and ta­kynge, and all other thynge, wherin is mu­tuall consente at the beginnynge: and ther­fore it is called voluntary. Intermedlynge involūtary, somtime is priuely done, as ste­lynge, auoutry, poysonyng, falsehede, dis­ceyte, secrete murdre, false wytnesse, and periury. Somtyme it is violente, as batry, open murdre, and manslaughter, robry, o­pen reproche, and other lyke. Iustyce dy­stributiue hath regarde to the persone, iu­styce commutatiue hath no regarde to the person, but onely consideringe the inequa­lite, whereby the one thynge excedeth the other, indeuoureth to brynge them bothe to an equalitie.

¶ Nowe wyll I retourne agayne to speke fyrste of Iustice distributiue, leauynge Iu­stice cōmutatiue to an other volnme. Which I suppose shall succede this warke, god gi­uynge me tyme and quyetnesse of mynde to perfourme it.

The first parte of Iustice distributiue ca. ii.

IT is not to be doubted, but that the first and principal part of Iustice distributiue is, & euer was, to do to god that honour, [Page] whiche is due to his diuine maiestie. Whi­honour (as I before saide in the first boke, where I wrate of the motion called honor in daunsynge) consisteth in loue, feare, and reuerence. For sens all men graunte, that iustyce is to gyue to euerye man his owne, moche more to rendre one good dede for a nother, moste of all to loue god, of whom we haue all thynge, and withoute hym we were nothynge, and beinge perysshed, we were eftsones recouered. Howe ought we (to whome is gyuen the very lyght of true fayth) to embrace this part of iustice more, or at the leaste noo lesse than the gentyles, whiche wandrynge in the darkenes of ig­noraunce, knewe nat god as he is, but deui­dynge his maiestye in to sondry portions, imagined Idols of diuers fourmes and na­mes, and assigned to them particuler auto­rites, offices, and dignities. Nat withstan­dynge, in the honouryng of those goddes, suche as they were, they supposed alwaye to be the chiefe parte of iustice.

¶ Romulus, the fyrste kynge of Romay­nes, The ho­uour that the gētiles bare to their god­des. Plutarchꝰ in vita ro­muli. for his fortune and benefytes, whiche he ascrybed to his goddes, made to theyr honour great and noble Temples, ordey­nyng to them images, sacrifices, and other ceremonyes. And more ouer (whiche is moch to be meruayled at) he also prohyby­ted, [Page 160] that any thinge shuld be red or spoken, reprocheable or blasphemous to god. And therfore he excluded al fables, made of the aduoutryes and other enormityes, that the Dionisius halicar. li. i. Greekes had fayned their goddes to haue cōmitted, Inducing his peple to speke, and also to coniecte nothynge of god, but one­ly that, which was in nature most excellent, whiche after was also commanded by Pla­to in the fyrste boke of his publike weale.

¶ Numa Pompilius, the nexte kinge after Romulus, & elect by the Senate, although he were a straunger borne, and dweliynge with his father in a lyttel towne of the Sa­bynes, consyderynge from what astate he came to that dignitie, beynge a man of ex­cellent wisedome and lerninge, thought he could neuer sufficiently honour his goddes for that benefyte, by whose prouydence he supposed, that he had attayned the gouer­naunce of soo noble a people and citie. He therfore not onely increased within the ci­tie Temples, alters, ceremonies, priestes, and sondry religions, but also, with a won­derful wysedome & policie, which is to long to be nowe rehersed, brought all the peo­ple Deuocion cause of tranqui­litie. of Rome to suche a deuocy on, or (as I moughte say) a supersticion, that where alway before, durynge the time that Romulꝰ reigned, whiche was, 37. yeres, they euer [Page] were continually ocupied in warres and rauine, by the space of, xliii. yeres (so longe reygned Numa) they gaue them selfe al, as it were to an obseruaunce of religion, aban­donyng warres, and applyeng in such wise theyr study to the honouring of their god­des, and increasynge theyr publyke weale, that other people adioynynge, wondringe at them, and for theyr deuocion hauyng the citie in reuerence, as it were a palayce of god, all that seasone neuer attempted any warres agaynste them, or with any hostili­tie inuaded theyr countrey. Many mo prin­cis and noble men of the Romaynes coude I reherce, who for victoryes agaynst their enemyes, raysed Temples, and made so­lempne and sumptuouse playes in honoure of theyr goddes, rendring (as it were) vn­to them theyr duetie, and all wayes accun­tynge it the fyrst parte of Iustice. And this parte of iustice towarde god, in honouring him with conuenient ceremonyes, is not to be contempned. Example we haue amonge vs that be mortall. For if a man being made ryche, and aduaunced by his lorde or may­ster, wyll prouyde to receyue hym, a fayre and pleasaunt lodgynge, hanged with riche Aresse or tapestrye, and with goodly plate and other thynges necessary most fresshely adourned, but after that his maister is ones [Page 161] entred, he wyll neuer enterteyne or coun­tenaunce hym, but as a straunger: suppose ye, that the beautie and garnyshyng of the house shall onely content hym, but that he wyll thynke, that his seruaunte broughte hym thither onely for vayne glorye, and as a beholder and wōderer at the riches that he him selfe gaue hym, which the other vn­thankefully doth attribute to his owne for­tune or policie? Moche rather is that ser­uaunte to be commended, whiche hauinge a lyttell rewarde of his mayster, wyll in a small cotage make hym hartye chere, with moche humble reuerence.

¶ Yet wolde I not be noted, that I wolde seme so moch to extol reuerence by it selfe, that churches and other ornamentes dedi­cate to god, shulde be therfore contemned. Churches materiall and orna­mentes. For vndoubtedly suche thynges be not on­ly commendable, but also expedient for the augmentation and continuing of reuerēce. For be it eyther after the opinion of Plato, that all this worlde is the temple of god, or that man is the same temple, these materi­all churches, where vnto repaireth the cō ­gregation of chrysten people, in the which is the corporal presēce of the sonne of god, and very god, ought to be lyke to the sayde temple, pure, cleane, and well adourned, that is to saye, that as the heuyn visible is [Page] most pleasauntly garnished with planettes, and sterres, resplendishynge in the mooste pure firmament of asure colour, the erthe furnished with trees, herbes, & floures of diuers colours, facions, and sauours, bestis, foules, & fisshes of sondry kindes: Sembla­bly the soule of man, of his owne kynde be­inge incorruptibill, nete, and clere, the sen­ces and powars wonderfull and pleasaunt, the vertues in it conteined noble and riche, the fourme excellent & roial, as that, which was made to the similitude of god. More o­uer, the body of man is of all other mortall creatures in proporcion and figure mooste perfecte and elegante. What peruerse or frowarde opinion were it to thynke, that god, styll beynge the same god that he e­uer was, wold haue his maiestie nowe con­tempned, or be in lesse estimation? but ra­ther more honored for the benefites of his glorious passion, whiche maye be wel per­ceiued, who so peruseth the holy historie of the Euāgelistes, where he shal finde in or­dre, that he desired clennesse and honour.

¶ First in preparation of his cōming, whi­che was by the wasshynge and clensinge of the body of man by baptisme in water, the soule also made clene by penaunce, the ele­ction of the moste pure and clene virgine to be his mother, and she also of the lyne of [Page 162] prtncis moste noble and vertuous.

¶ It pleased hym moch, that Mary hum­bly kneled at his feete, and wasshed theym with precious balme, and wiped them with her heare.

¶ In his glorious transfiguration, his vy­sage shone lyke the sonne, and his garmen­tes were wonderful whyte, and more pure (as the Euangelyst sayth) than any warke­man coulde make them.

¶ Also at his commynge to Ierusalem, to­warde his passion, he wolde than be recei­ued with great routes of people, who lay­ing theyr garmētes on the way as he rode, other castynge bowes abrode, went before hym in fourme of a triumphe. All this ho­nour wolde he haue before his resurrecti­on, whan he was in the fourme of humyli­tye. Than howe moche honour is due to hym nowe, that all power is giuen to hym, as well in heuyn as in erthe, and being glo­ryfyed of his father, sytteth on his ryghte hande, iudgynge all the worlde.

¶ In redynge the bible menne shall fynde, Ceremo­nies. that the infinite numbre of the sturdye har­ted Iewes, coulde neuer haue ben gouer­ned by any wysedome, if they had not ben brydeled with ceremonies.

¶ The superstition of the gentiles, preser­ued often tymes as well the Grekes as the [Page] Romaynes from final distruction. But we wyll laye all those histories a parte, & come to our owne experience.

¶ For what purpose was it ordeyned, that christen kynges (all thoughe they by inhe­ritaunce succeded theyr progenitours kin­ges) shulde in an open and stately place be fore al theyr subiectes, receiue their crown and other Regalities: but that by reason of the honourable circumstaunces than vsed, shulde be impressed in the hartes of the be­holders perpetuall reuerence: whiche (as I before sayde) is fountayne of obedience, or elles moughte the kynges be enoynted and receiue their charge in a place secrete, with lesse peyne to them, and also theyr mi­nysters?

¶ Lette it be also consydered, that we be men and not aungels: wherfore we knowe nothing but by outward signifycation. HO­NOVR, wherto reuerence perteyneth, is (as I haue sayde) the rewarde of vertue, whiche honour is the estimation of people, whiche estimation is not euery where per­ceyued, but by some exterior signe, and that is eyther by laudable reporte, or excellēcy in vesture, or other thing sēblable. But re­porte is not so cōmune a tokē, as apparaile. For in olde tyme kynges ware crownes of golde, and knightes only ware chaines.

[Page 163] ¶ Also the moste noble of the Romaynes ware sondry garlondes, wherby was per­ceyued theyr merite. O creatures most vn­kynde, and bar rayne of Iustice, that wyll deny that thyng to their god and creatour, whiche of very duetie and right is giuen to hym by good reason afore all pryncis, whi­che in a degree incomparable be his sub­iectes and vassals, by whiche opinion they seme to despoyle hym of reuerence, which shal cause all obedience to cesse, wherof wil ensue vtter confusion, if good christen prin­cis, meued with zeale, do not shortely pro­uide to extincte vtterly all suche opinions.

The thre noble counsayles of reason, societie, & knowlege. Cap. III.

VErely the knowlege of Iustice is not Counsay­lours of Iustice. so difficile or hard to be attayned vn­to by man, as it is communely suppo­sed, if he wolde not wyllyngely abandone the excellencie of his propre nature, and fo lisshely applicate hym selfe to the nature of creatures vnreasonable, in the stede of Re­son embrasynge sensualitie, and for Societe and Beneuolence, folowynge wylfulnesse and malyce, and for knowlege, blynde ig­noraunce and forgetfulnes. Undoughtedly reason, societie called company, and know­lege [Page] remaynynge, Iustice is at hande, and as she were called for, ioyneth her selfe to that company, whiche by her felowshyp is made inseperable, wherby hapneth (as I mought saye) a vertuous and moste blessed conspiracie. And in theyr shorte preceptes and aduertisementes, man is perswaded to receiue and honour iustice. Reason bedyng hym, Do the same thynge to an other, that thou woldest haue done to the. Societie, without which mans lyfe is vnpleasant and full of anguysshe, saythe, Loue thou thy neyghboure, as thou doest thy selfe. And that sentence or precepte came from heuin, whan Societie was fyrst ordeimed of god, and is of such auctoritie, that the only sōne of god, beynge demaunded of a doctour of lawe, whiche is the great commaunde­mente in the lawe of god, answered, Thou Matt. 22. shalt loue thy lorde god with all thy harte, and in all thy soule, and in all thy mynde, that is the fyrste and greatte commaunde­mēt. The second is lyke to the same, Thou shalte loue thy neyghbour as thy selfe. In these two commaundementes do depende al the lawe and prophetes. Beholde howe our sauiour Christe ioyneth Beneuolence with the loue of god, and not only maketh it the seconde precepte, but also resembleth it vnto the fyrste?

[Page 164] ¶ Knowlege also, as a perfeyt instructrice knowlege and mastresse, in a more briefe sentence than yet hath benne spoken, declareth, by what meane the sayd preceptes of reason and so­cietie maye be well vnderstande, and ther­by Iustice finally executed. The wordes be these in latyne, NOSCE TE IPSVM, whi­che that this sētēce no­sce te ipsū, know thy selfe. indu­ceth to the veri knowlege of Iu­styce. is in englyshe, knowe thy self. This sē ­tence is of olde wrytars supposed for to be firste spoken by Chilo, or some other of the seuen ancient Grekes, called in latine SA­PIENTES, in englysshe sages or wise men. Other do accōmodate it to Apollo, whom the paynimes honoured for god of wyse­dome. But to saye the trouthe, were it A­pollo, that spake it, or Chilo, or any other, suerly it proceded of god, as an excellente and wonderful sentence. By this coūsaile, man is induced to vnderstād the other two preceptes, & also therby is accōplyshed not only the seconde parte, but also the residue of Iustice, whiche I before haue rehersed. For a man knowynge hym selfe, shal knowe that whiche is his owne, and perreineth to hym selfe. But what is more his own, than his soule? Or what thynge more aptertey­neth to him, than his body? His soule is vn doughtedly and frely his owne. And none other persone may by any meane possesse it or clayine it. His body so perteyneth vnto [Page] hym, that none other, without his consent, maye vendicate therin any propretie. Of what valour or price his soule is, the symi­litude, wherunto it was made, the immor­talytie, and lyfe euerlastynge, and the po­wars and qualities therof, abundauntly do declare. And of that same matter and sub­stance that his sowle is of, be all other sou­les, the equa­lite in sou­les & cor­poral sub­staunce. that nowe are, and haue ben, and euer shall be, without syngularytie or preemy­nence of nature. In semblable astate is his body, and of no better claye (as I mought frankely saye) is a gentyl man made, than a carter, and of lybertie of wyll, as moche is gyuen of god to the poore herdeman, as to the greate and myghty Emperour. Than in knowynge the condycyon of his sowle and body, he knoweth hym selfe, and con­sequently in the same thynge he knowethe euery other man.

¶ If thou be a gouernour, or haste ouer o­ther soueraygntie, knowe thy selfe. That knowlege of a gouer nour. is to saye, knowe that thou arte verelye a manne, compacte of soule and body, and in that all other men be equall vnto the. Also that euery man taketh with the, equall be­nefite of the spirite of lyfe, nor thou hast a­ny more of the dewe of heuyn, or the brightnes of the sonne, than any other personne. Thy dignitie or auctoritie, wherin thou only [Page 165] differest from other, is (as it were) but a weyghty or heuy cloke, freshely gliteryng in the eien of them that be poreblind, wher vnto the, it is peynefull, if thou weare him in his ryght facion, and as it shall beste be­come the: And from the it maye be shortly taken, of hym that dyd put it on the, if thou vse it negligently, or that thou weare it not commely, and as it apperteyneth. There­fore whiles thou wearest it, knowe thy self, knowe that the name of a soueraigne or ru­ler, without actuall gouernaunce, is but a shadowe, that gouernance standeth not by wordes onely, but princypally by acte and exaumple, that by example of gouernours men do ryse or fal in vertue or vice. And as it is sayde of Aristotell, rulers more gre­uously do synne, by example than by theyr acte. And the more they haue vnder theyr gouernaunce, the greatter accounte haue they to rendre, That in theyr owne pre­ceptes and ordenaunces they be not foūde negligent. Wherfore there is a noble aduer tisement of the emperour Alexāder, for his grauitie called Seuerus.

¶ On a time, one of his noble mē exhorted Lāpridius hym to do a thyng, contrary to a lawe or e­dicte, which he him selfe had enacted: But he firmely denyed it. The other styl persi­stynge, sayde, The emperour is not boun­den [Page] to obserue his owne lawes. Whervnto the sayde emperour displeasanntely answe­ring, said in this maner, God forbede, that euer I shulde deuise any lawes, wherby my people shuld be compelled to do any thing, whiche I my selfe can not tollerate.

¶ Wherfore ye that haue any gouernance, by this moste noble princis example knowe the boundes of your auctoritie, knowe also your office and duetie, beynge your selfes men mortall, amonge men, and instructours and leaders of men. And that as obedience is due vnto you, so is your study, your la­bour, your industry with vertuous exaum­ple, dewe to them that be subiecte to your autoritye. Ye shal knowe al way your selfe, if for affection or motion ye doo speke or do nothyng vnworthy the immortalitie & most precious nature of your soule, and remem­bringe that your body is subiecte to corup­tion, as al other be, and life time vncertain. If ye forget not this commune astate, and do also remembre, that in nothinge but only in vertue ye are better thā an other inferi­or person: According to the saying of Age­silaus, king of Lacedemones, who heryng Agesilaus the greate kynge of Persia praysed, asked howe moche that greatte kynge was more than he in iustice. And Socrates, being de­manded, Socrates. if the kyng of Persia semed to him [Page 166] happy, I can not tell (said he) of what esti­matiō he is in vertue and lerning. Consider also, that auctoritie being wel and diligētly vsed, is but a token of superioritie, but in very dede it is a burden and losse of libertie.

¶ And what gouernour in this wyse kno­weth him selfe, he shal also by the same rule knowe all other men, and shall nedes loue them, for whom he taketh labours, and for saketh libertie.

¶ In semblable maner, the inferior person Knowlege of subiectꝭ or subiecte aught to consider, that all be it (as I haue spoken) he in the substaunce of sowle and body, is equall with his supery­or. yet for as moche as the powers & qua­lities of the soule and body, with the dispo­sition of reason, be not in euery man equall, therfore god ordeyned a diuersitie or prec­minence in degrees to be amōg men, for the necessary derection and preseruatiō of thē in conformitie of lyuynge. Wherof nature ministreth to vs examples abundauntly, as in bees (wherof I haue before spokē in the fyrste boke) cranes, red dere, wolfes, & di­uers other foules & bestes, which herdeth or flocketh, amonge whom is a gouernour or leader, towarde whom al the other haue a vigilante eye, awaytyng his signes or to­kens, and accordinge therto reparinge thē selfe mooste dylygently. If we thynke, that [Page] this naturall instinction of creatures vnre­sonable is necessary and also commendable, howe farre out of reason shall we iudge thē to be, that wolde exterminate all superiori­tie, extincte all gouernance and lawes, and vnder the colour of holy scriptuxe, whiche they do violently wraste to theyr purpose, endeuour them selfes, to brynge the lyfe of mau into a confusion ineuitable, and to be in moche warse astate, than the afore named beastes. Sens withoute gouernaunce and lawes, the persones moste stronge in body, shuld by violence constraigne them that be of lesse strengthe and weaker, to labour as bondemen or slaues for theyr sustynaunce and other necessaryes, the stronge men be­inge without labour or care. Than were al The neces site that is in gouer­naunce. our equalytie dasshed, and fynally as bea­stes sauage, one shal desyre to slee a nother. I omytte contynuall manslaughters, raui­shementes, aduoutryes, and euormyties horrible to reherce, whiche (gouernaunce lackynge) muste nedes of necessitie ensue: excepte these euangelicall persones coude perswade god, or compelle hym to change men in to aungels, makynge them all of one dysposition, and confirmyng them al in one fourme of charitie. And as concernynge al men in a generaltie, this fentence, Knowe thy selfe, whiche of all other is moste com­pendious, [Page 167] being made but of thre wordes, euery word being but one sillable, induceth men sufficiently to the knowlege of iustice.

Of fraude and dysceyte, whiche be agaynst Iustyce. Cap. IIII.

TUlli saith, that the foundation of per­petuall Ci. offi. 1. The exce lency of Iustice praise and renome, is Iustice, without the whiche nothynge maye be commendable. Whiche sentence is veri­fied by experience. For be a man neuer soo valyaunte, so wyse, so lyberal or plentuous, so famylyare or courtayse, if he be seene to exercyse iniustice or wronge, it is often re­membred: But the other vertues be sel­dome rekened, without an exception, whi­che is in this maner. As in praysyng a man for some good qualytie, where he lacketh Iustice, men wyll communely say, He is an honorable man, a bounteous manne, a wyse man, a valyaunt man, sauinge that he is an oppressour, an extortioner, or is deceyte­full, or of his promyse vnsure. But if he be iust, with the other vertues, than is it said, he is good and worshypfull, or he is a good man, and an honourable, good and gentyl, or good and hardy. so that Iustyce onely, beareth the name of good, and lyke a capi­tayne or leader precedeth all vertues in e­uery [Page] commendation.

¶ But where as the sayde Tulli saith, that iniurie, whiche is contrarye to Iustice, is Iniury by two mea­nes done. done by two meanes, that is to say, eyther by violence or by fraude, fraude semeth to be proprely of the foxe, violence or force of the lyon, the one and the other be far from the nature of mā, but fraude is worthy most to be hated. That maner of iniurie, which is done with fraude and dysceyte, is at this Fraude & deceyte. present tyme so communely practysed, that if it be but a lyttell, it is called polycie, and if it be moche, and with a visage of grauite. it is than named and accounted wysedome. And of those wyse men speketh Tulli, say­inge, Of all iniustice, none is more capitall thā of those persōs, that whā they disceiue a man most, do it, as they wolde seme to be good men. And Plato faith, It is extreme Plato de repub. li. iniustice, one to seme rightous, whiche in dede is vniust, Of those two maner of frau­des wyll I seuerally speke. But first wyl I declare the most mischiuous importance of this kinde of iniury in a generalte. Lyke as the phisitions call those diseases most pryl­lous, against whom is foūden no preserua­tiue, & ones entred, be seldome or neuer re­couered: Sēblably those iniuries be most to be feared, againste the whiche can be made no resistence, and beinge taken, with great [Page 168] difficoultie or neuer they can be redressed.

¶ Iniurie apparante and with power infor ced, either may be with like power resisted, or with wysedome eschued, or with entrea­tie refrained. But where it is by crafty en­ginne imagined, subtylly prepared, couert­ly dyssembled, and dysceitefully practysed, suerly no man may by strength withstand it, or by wysedome eskape it, or by any other maner of meane resiste or a voyde it. Wher­fore of all iniuryes, that whiche is done by fraude, is mooste horryble, and detestable, not in the opynion of manne onely, but also in the syghte and iugement of god. For vn­to hym nothynge may be acceptable, wher in lacketh veryte, called communely truth, he hym selfe beyng all veryte: and al thing conteynynge vntruthe, is to hym contra­ryons and aduerse. And the dyuell is cal­led a lyer, and the father of leasinges. wher fore all thynge, whiche in vysage or appa­raunce pretendeth to be any other thanne verelye it is, maye be named a leasynge, the execution wherof is fraude, whiche is in effecte but vntrouth, ennemye to truthe, and consequentely ennemye to god. For fraude is (as experyence teachethe vs) an yuell dysceyte, craftly imagined and deuy­sed, which vnder a colour of truth and sim­plycitie, indomageth hym that nothynge [Page] mystrusteth. And bycause it is euyll, it can by no meanes be lefull. Wherfore it is re­pugnaunt vnto iustice.

¶ The Neapolitanes, and Nolanes the frande of an arbi­trour. (peple in Italy) contended to gether for the limi­tes and boundes of theyr landes and fyel­des, And for the dyscussyng of that cōtro­uersye, eyther of them sent theyr ambassa­dours to the senate and peple of Rome (in whom at that tyme was thoughte to be the moste excellente knowlege and execution of iustice) desirynge of them an indifferent Arbitour, and suche as was substancyally lerned in the lawes Ciuile, to determin the variance, that was betwene the two cities: compromyttynge them selfes in the name of all theyr countrey, to abyde and per­fourme all suche sentence and awarde, as shulde be by hym gyuen. The Senate ap­pointed for that purpose one named Quin­tus Fabius Labeo, whom they accounted to be a man of great wisedome and lerning. Fabiꝰ, after that he was come to the place, which was in controuersie, he seperatinge the one people from the other, communed with them both a parte, exhortyng the one and the other, that they wolde not doo or desyre any thynge with a couetyfe mynde, but in treadynge out of theyr boundes, ra­ther go shorte therof than ouer. They, do­ynge [Page 169] accordynge to his exhortatyon, lefte betwene bothe companies a great quantite of grounde, whiche at this daye we cal ba­table. That perceyuing Fabius, assygned to euery of them the boūdes that they thē selfes had appoynted. And all that lande, whiche was lefte in the myddes, he adiu­ged to the Senate and people of Rome. That maner of dealynge (sayth Tulli) is to disceyue, and not to gyue iugemente. And verelye euery good man wyll thynke, that this lacke of iustice in Fabius, beinge a no­ble man and well lerned, was a greatte re­proche to his honour.

¶ It was a notable rebuke vnto the Isra­helites, Fraude in confede­racies. that whan they besyeged the Ga­baonites (a people of Chanani) they in cō ­clusyon receyued theym in to a perpetuall leage. But after the Gabaonites had yel­ded them, the iewes perceyuing they were restrayned by theyr othe to slee theym, or cruelly entreate them, made of the Gabao­nytes, beynge theyr confederates, theyr skullions and drudges, wherwith al migh­ty god was no thynge contented. For the leage or truce, wherin frendship and liber­tie was intended (which caused the Gaba­onites to be yolden) was not duely obser­ued, whiche was clerely agaynst Iustice.

¶ Trewely in euery couenaunte, bargain, [Page] or promyse aught to be a symplicitie, that is to saye, one playne vnderstandyng or mea­nynge Simplici­tie in co­nenaunt promyse. betwene the partes: And that sym­plicitie is properly iustice. And where any man of a couetous or malicious mynde will digresse purposely from that symplicite, ta­kynge aduauntage of a sentence or worde, whiche mought be ambiguous or doubtful, or in some thyng eyther superfluous or lac­kyng in the bargaine or promyse, where he certaynely knoweth the trouth to be other wise: this in mine opiniō is dānable fraude, beynge as playne agaynste Iustice, as if it were enforced by violence.

¶ Fynally, all dysceyte and dyssimulation, in the opinion of them which exactely ho­nour iustice, is nerre to dysprayse than cō ­mendation, all though therof moughte en­sue some thynge good. For in vertue maye be nothynge fucate or counterfayte: But therin is onely the image of veritie, called Symplicitie. Wherfore Tulli, being of the opynyon of Antipater the Phylosopher, saythe, To concele any thynge, whiche thou knowest, to the entente that for thine owne profitte thou woldest a nother, who shall take any damage or benefyte thereby, shulde not knowe it, is not the act of a per­son playne or symple, or of a man honeste, iuste, or good: but rather of a person craf­ty, [Page 170] vngentyll, subtylle, deceytefull, malici­ous, and wyly.

¶ And after he saythe, Reason requireth, that nothynge be done by treason, nothing by dyssimulation, nothing by disceyte. whi­che he excellently (as he dothe all thynge) afterwarde in a briefe conclusyon proueth, sayinge, Nature is the fountayne, wherof the lawe springeth, and it is accordynge to nature, no man to do that, wherby he shuld take (as it were) a pray of a nother mannes ignoraunce.

¶ Of this matter Tulli writeth many pro­pre exaumples and quycke solutions. But nowe here I make an ende to wryte any more at this tyme of fraude, whiche by no meanes maye be ioyned to the vertue, na­med iustice.

That Iustice oughte to be betwene ennemyes. Cap. V.

SVCHE IS THE excellencye of this vertue Iustyce, that the practyse ther­of hath not onely opteyned digne com­mendatyon of suche personnes, betwene whome hath benne mortall hostylytie, but also often tymes, hathe extyncte the same hostylytie. And the fyerce hartes of mu­tuall ennemyes hath benne thereby rather [Page] subdued, thanne by armure or strengthe of people. As it shall appere be examples en­suynge.

¶ Whan the valyaunte kinge Pyrrus war­red moste asprely agaynste the Romaynes, Treason hated of enemies. one Timochares, whose sonne was yomā for the mouthe with the kynge, promysed to Fabricius, than being consul, to sle kynge Pyrrus: which thinge beinge to the senate reported, by theyr ambassade warned the kynge, to be ware of suche maner of treasō, sayinge, The Romayns maynteyned their warres with armes, and not with poyson. And yet not withstandynge, they dyscoue­red not the name of Timochares, so that they embraced equytie as well in that they slewe not theyr enemye by treason, as also that they betrayed not hym, whiche purposed them kyndnes.

¶ In so moche was Iustice of olde tyme e­stemed, that without it none acte was alo­wed, were it neuer so noble or profitable.

¶ What tyme Xerxes, kynge of Persya, Honestye preferred before cō ­moditie. with his army was expulsed out of Grece, all the nauye of Lacedemonia laye at rode in an hauen, called Gytheum, within the do minion of the Atheniensis. Themistocles, one of the princis of Athenes, a moche no­ble capitayne, sayde vnto the people, that he had aduysed hym selfe of an excellente [Page 171] counsayle, where vnto if fortune inclyned, nothynge mought more augment the po­wer of the Atheniensis. But it aught not to be diuulgate or publyshed. He therfore de­syred to haue one appoynted vnto hym, to whom he mought secretly discouer the en­terprise. Where vpon there was assigned to hym one Aristides, who for his vertue was surnamed ryghtwise. Themistocles decla­red to him, that his purpose was to put fire in the nauye of the Lacedemones, whiche laye at Gytheum, to thentent that it beinge brenned, the dominiō and hole power ouer the see, shulde be only in the Atheniensis. This deuyse herde and perceyued, Aristi­des commynge before the people, sayde, The counsayle of Themistocles was very profitable, but the enterprise was dishonest and agaynste iustice. The people herynge that the act was not honest or iuste, cryed with one voyce, Nor yet expediente. And furthwith they cōmanded Themystocles, to cesse his enterpryse. Wherby this noble people declared, that in euery acte, speci­all regarde, and aboue all thyng, consideratiō ought to be had of Iustice & Honestitie.

Of faythe or fidelitie, called in latine Fi­des, whiche is the foundation of Iustice. Capi. VI.

[Page] THat which in latine is called FIDES, is a parte of iustice, and may diuerse­ly be interpreted: and yet finally ten­deth to one purpose in effecte. Some tyme it may be called fayth, some time credence, other wyles trust. Also in a frenche terme it is named loyaltie. And to the imitation of latine, it is often called Fydelytie. All whiche wordes, if they be intierly, and (as I moughte saye) exactelye vnderstanden, shall appere to a studious reder, to signy­fye one vertue or qualitie, all thoughe they seme to haue some diuersitie. As belcuinge the preceptes and promise of god, it is cal­led faythe. In contractes betwene manne and man, it is communely called credence. Betwene persones of equall astate or con­dytion, it is named truste. Fro the subiecte or seruaunte to his soueraygne or mayster, it is proprely named fidelite, & in a frēche terme loyaltie.

¶ Wherfore to hym, that shal eyther speke or write, the place is diligently to be obser­ued, where the propre signyfication of the worde may be best expressed. Considering (as Plato saythe) that the name of euerye thynge is none other, but the vertue or ef­fecte Plato in Cratylo. of the same thinge, conceyued fyrst in the mynd, and than by the voyce expressed, and finally in letters signified.

[Page 172] ¶ But nowe to speke, in what estymation Fayth ne­glected. this vertue was of olde tyme amonge gen­tiles, whiche nowe (alas to the lamentable reproche, and perpetual infamy of this present time) is so neglected throughout chri­stendome, that neyther regarde of religion or honour, solempne othes or terrible cur­sis, can cause it to be obserued. And that I am moch a shamed to wryte, but that I must nedes nowe remembre it: Neyther seales of armes, signe manuels, subscryption, nor other specyalties, ye vneth a multitude of wytnesses be nowe sufficiente, to the obser­uynge of promyses. O what publike weale shulde we hope to haue there, where lac­keth fidelitie? whiche as Tulli saith, is the foundation of Iustice. What meruayle is it, though there be in al places contention in­finite, and that good lawes be tourned into Sophemes & insolubles, sens euery where fidelitie is constrayned to come in trial and credence (as I mought saye) is become a vagabounde?

¶ To Iosue, which succeded Moyses in the gouernance and leadyng of the iewes, almighty god gaue in cōmaundement to sle as many as he shulde happen to take of the people, called Cananees. There hapned to Of what autoritie fidelitie is. be nyghe to Ierusalem a countreye, called Gabaon, & in dede the people ther of were [Page] Cananees, who herynge of the precepte gyuen to Iosue, as menne (as it semed) of Cananees preserued by Iosue. great wysedome, seute an ambassade to Io­sue, whiche approched theyr countrey, sai­inge, They were ferre dystaunte from the Cananees, and desired to be in perpetuall leage with hym and his people. And to dis­semble the length of theyr iournay, as their countrey had ben ferre thens, they had on them old worne garmētes, and torne shone. Iosue supposinge all to be trewe that they spake, concluded peace with them, and cō ­firmed the leage, and with a solempne othe ratified both the one and the other. After­warde it was dyscouered, that they were Cananees, which if Iosue had knowen be­fore the leage made, he had not spared any of them. But whē he reuolued in his mind, the solempne othe that he had made, and the honour, which consisted in his promise: he presumed, that faythe beinge obserued vnperysshed, shulde please all myghty god aboue al thynges, which was than proued. For it appereth not, that god euer dyd soo moch as in any wyse imbrayed him for bre­kynge of his commaundement.

¶ By this exaumple appereth, in what e­stimatiō and reuerence, leages and truces, made by princis, ought to be hadde, to the breache wherof none excuse is sufficyente. [Page 173] But lette vs leaue princis affayres to theyr coūsaylours. And I wil nowe wryte of the partes of Fidelitie, which be more frequēt and accustomed to be spoken of. And fyrst Trust and fidelitie. of Loyaltie and trust, & laste of Credence, whiche principally resteth in promyse.

¶ In the most renoumed warres, btewene The loial­ty of Sa­guntines. the Romaynes and Anniball, duke of Car­thaginensis, a noble citie of Spayne, cal­led Saguntum, whiche was in amytie and leage with the Romaynes, was by the said Titus Li­uius. Ualerius max. Anniball strongely besieged, in so moch as they were restrayned from vytayle and all other sustenaunce. Of the which necessite, by theyr pryuie messages they assertayned the Romaynes. But they beynge busyed, aboute the preparatyons for the defence of Italy, and also of the citie, agaynste the in­tollerable power of Anniball, hauinge also late, two of theyr moste valiaunte capitay­nes, Publius Scipio, and Lucius Scipio, with a great hooste of Romayns, slayne by Anniball in Spayne, deferred to sende any spedy socours to the Saguntines. But not with standing that Anniball desired to haue with them amitie, offring them peace, with theyr citie and goodes at lybertie: Consideryng that they were brought into extreme necessite, lackynge vitayle, and dispayaing to haue socours from the Romaynes, All [Page] the inhabitauntes, confortynge and exhor­tyng eche other to dye, rather than to vio­late the leage and amitie that they of longe tyme had continued with the Romayns, by one hole assent, after they had made sondry greate piles of wodde and other matter to brenne, they laide in it al theyr goodes and substaunce, And last of al, conueyeng them selfes into the sayd piles or bonefires, with theyr wyues and chyldren, sette al on fyre, and there were brenned, er Annibal coude entre the citie.

¶ Semblable loyaltie was in the inhaby­tantes of Petilia the same time, who being lyke wyse besieged by Anniball, sent for so­coures to Rome: But for the great losse, that a lytel erste the Romaynes had sustei­ned at the batayle of Cannas, they could in no wise delyuer them. Wherfore they dys­charged them of theyr promyse, and licen­sed them to do that thinge, whiche mought be moste for theyr saufegarde. By whiche answere they semed to be discharged, & le­fully moughte haue entred in to the fauour of Anniball: yet not withstanding, this no­ble people, preseruinge loyalte before lyfe, puttynge out of theyr citie theyr women, & al that were of yeres vnable for the warres that they mought more frākely susteine fa­myne, obstynately defended theyr walles, [Page 174] that in the defence they all perysshed. So that whan Annibal was entred, he founde, that he toke not the citie, but rather the se­pulchre of the loyall citie Petilia.

¶ O noble fidelitie, whiche is so moch the more to be wondred at, that it was not only in one or a fewe persons, but in thuosandes of men: and they not beinge of the blode or aliaunce of the Romaynes, but straungers, dwellyng in ferre contreys from them, be­inge onely of gentyll nature and vertuous courage, inclined to loue honour, and to be constant in theyr assuraunce.

¶ Nowe wyll I wryte from hensforthe of particuler persones, whiche haue shewed examples of loialte, which I pray god may so cleue to the myndes of the reders, that they may be alwaie redy to put the sembla­ble in experience.

¶ Howe moche ought all they, in whom is The com­mendatiō of loialtie. any portion of gentyll courage, endeuoure them selfes, to be alwayes trusty and loy­all to theyr soueraygne, who putteth them in truste, or hath ben to them beneficial, as well reason exhorteth, as also sondrye ex­amples of noble personages, whiche as cō ­pendiously as I can, I wyl nowe brynge to the reders remembraunce.

¶ What tyme Saul, for his greuous offen­ces Faythful­nes in sub­iectes. was abandoned of all myghtye god, [Page] (whom of a very poore mannes sonne, god ausunced to the kyngedome of Israel) and that Dauid beyng his seruant, and as poore a mannes sonne as he, was elected by god to reigne in Israel, and enointed kynge by the prophet Samuell, Saul being therfore in a rage, hauing indjgnation at Dauid pur sued hym with a great hoost, to haue slayne him: who (as long as he mought) fled, and forbare Saul as his soueraigne lord. On a tyme, Dauid was so inclosed by the armye of Saul, that he mought by no wais escape, but was fayne to hyde hym and his men, in a great caue, whiche was wyde and depe in the erthe. Durynge the tyme that he was in the caue, Saul, not knowinge therof, en­tred in to the caue, to do his naturall ease­ment: whiche the people of Dauid percey­uinge, exhorted hym, to slee Saul, hauinge such oportunitie, saying, God had brought his ennemy into his handes, and that Saul being slayne, the warre were all at an ende, considerynge that the people lo ued better Dauid thanne Saul. But Dauid, refusynge theyr counsayle, sayde, He wolde not laye violent handes on his soueraygne lord, be­inge a kynge enoynted of god: but softely approched to Saul, and cutte of a peace of the nether parte of his mantell. And af­ter that Saul was departed out of the caue [Page 175] toward his campe, Dauid called after him, saying, Whom pursuest thou noble prynce? with other wordes rehersed in the bible, in the fyrste boke of kinges: and than shewed to hym the parte of his mantell. Whereat Saul being abashed, recognised his vnkindnesse, callynge Dauid his dere sonne and trusty frende, recommendynge to hym his chyldren and progenye, sens by the wyl of god he was elected to succede hym in the kyngedome of Israel. And soo departed Saul from Dauid.

¶ Yet not withstandynge, afterwarde he pursued hym in Gaddy. And in a nyghte, whan Saul and his armye were at rest, and that Dauid by an espiall, knewe they were all faste on slepe, toke with hym a certayne of the moste assured and valiaunte persona­ges of his hoste, and in moste secrete wyse came to the pauilion of kynge Saul, where he founde hym slepynge, hauynge by hym his speare and a cup with water. Wherfore one of the company of Dauid sayde, that he with the speare of Saul, wolde stryke hym throughe, and slee him. Nay sayde Dauid, our lord forbede, that I suffre my soueraign lorde to be slayne. For he is enoynted of god. And therwith he toke the spere, with the cup of water. And whan he was a good dystaunce from the hoste of Saul, he cryed [Page] with a loude voyce to Abuer, whiche was thanne marshall of the armye of Saul, who aunswered and sayde, what arte thou that thus dyseasest the kynge, whiche is nowe at his reste? To whom Dauid sayd, Abner, thou and thy company are worthy deathe, that haue soo neglygentely watched your prynce. Where is his speare, and the cup of water, that stode at his beddes hede? Su­erlye ye be but dede men, whanne he shall knowe it. And there with he shewed the speare and cuppe with water. Whiche Saul perceyuynge, and hearynge the voyce of Dauid, cried vnto hym, sayinge, Is not this the voyce of my deere sonne Dauid? I vn­curteysely do pursue hym, and he notwith­standynge doth to me good for euyll. with other wordes, which to abbreuiate the ma­ter, I passe ouer.

¶ This noble historie, and other sembla­ble, Mistories i hāgingis either wroughgt in Aresse, or conning­ly paynted, wyll moche better beseme the houses of noble men, than the Concubines, and voluptuous pleasures of the same Da, uid, and Salamon his sonne, which be more frequentely expressed in the hangynges of houses and counterpoyntes, than the ver­tue and holynesse of the one, or the wise ex­perimentes of the other. But nowe wyll I passe ouer to hystoryes, whiche be more [Page 176] straunge, and therfore I suppose more ple­saunte to the reder.

¶ Xerxes beinge kinge of Persia, the gret cite of Babylō rebelled against him, which louyng ser uaunte. was of suche strength, that the kynge was not of power to subdue it: that perceyning a gentilman, one of the counsayle of kynge Xerxes, named Zopirus, a man of notable wysedome, vnwyttynge to any pesonne, dyd cutte of his owne eares and nose, and pryuely departed towarde Babylon: And beynge knowen by them of the citie, was demaunded, who hadde so dyffigured him. Unto whom he aunswered, with apparaunt tokens of heuynesse, that for as moche as he hadde gyuen to Xerxes Counsayle and aduyse, to be reconsyled vnto theyr Citie, he beinge meued with ire and dyspleasure towarde hym, in mooste cruell wyse, cau­sed hym to be soo shamefully mutulate. Ad­dynge there vnto reprochefull wordes a­gaynste Xerxes. The Babylonians behol­dinge his miserable astate, and the tokens, whiche (as it semed to them) approued his wordes to be true, moche pitied him: And as well for the greate wysedome, that they knewe to be in him, as for the occasiō, whi­che they supposed shulde incense hym to be shortly auenged, made him theyr chiefe ca­pytayne, and commytted hooly to hym the [Page] gouernance and defence of their citie: whi­che hapned in euery thinge accordynge to his expectacion. Where vppon he shortely gaue notice to the kynge of all his affayres and exploitures. And finally soo endeuou­red hym selfe, by his wysedome, that he accorded the kynge and the citie, without a­ny losse or damage to eyther of them, wherfore on a tyme the sayd kynge Xerxes, cut­tynge an odly great pomegarnate, and be­holdynge it fayre and full of kernels, sayde in the presence of all his counsayle, He had leuer haue suche one frende, as Zopirus was, thanne as many Babylons, as there were kernels in the pomegarnate. And also that he rather wolde, that Zopirus were restored agayne to his nose, and his eares, than to haue a hundred suche cities as Ba­bylon was, which by the reporte of wry­ters was incomparably the greatteste and fayrest citie of all the worlde.

¶ The Parthiens, in a ciuyle dyscorde a­mong them selfes, draue Arthabanus their kynge out of his realme, and elected amōg theym one Cinnamus, to be theyr kynge. Iazate kynge of Adiabenes, vnto whome Cinnamus Arthabanus was fled, sente an ambassade vnto the Parthiens, exhortyng them to re­ceyue agayne Arthabanus: but they made aunswere, that sens the departynge of Ar­thabanus, [Page 177] they had by a hole assent chosen Cinnamus, vnto whom they had done their fealtie, and were sworne his subiectes, whiche othe they mought not laufully breake. There of herynge Cinnamus, who at that tyme was kyng ouer them, wrate vnto Ar­thabanus and Iasate, that they shuld come, and that he wold render the realme of Parthia vnto Arthabanus. And whā they were come, Cinnamus met with them, adourned in the robes of a kynge, and as he appro­ched Arthabanus, a lightyng downe of his horse, sayde in this wyse, Syr, whan the peple had expelled you out of your realme, and wold haue translated it vnto a nother, at theyr instaunce and desyre I toke it. But whan I perceyued theyr rancour aswaged, and that with good wyll they wolde haue you agayne, whiche are theyr naturall so­uerayge lorde, and that nothyng letted, but onely that they wolde nothinge do contra­ry to my pleasure, with good wyll, and for no drede or other occasion, as ye may per­ceyue, do here rēdre your realme eftsones vnto you, and therwith taking the diademe of from his owne hed, dyd set it immediat­ly vpon the hed of Arthabanus.

¶ The fidelitie of Ferdynando (kynge of A faythful Tutor, Aragone) is not to be forgotten, whom his brother Henry, kynge of Castill, decessing, [Page] made gouernour of his sonne, beinge an in­fant. This Fernando with suche iustice ru­led and ordred the realme, that in a parle­ment, holden at Castille, it was trayted by the hole consent of the nobles and people, that the name or title of the kyngedome of Spaygne shulde be gyuen vnto hym. Whi­che honour he fayning to receyue thanke­fully, dyd put vppon hym a large and wyde robe, wherin he secretely bare the yonge prince his neuewe, and so cam to the place, where for the sayd purpose the nobles and people were assembled, demaundynge of e­uery man his sentence. Who with one voice gaue vnto him the kyngedome of Spayne. With that he toke out of his robe the lytell baby his neuewe, and settynge hym on his shulder, sayde all aloude vnto them, Loye Castilians, behold here is your kinge. And than he confirmynge the hartes of the peo­ple towarde his neuewe, finally delyuered to hym his realme in peace, & in all thynges abundaunt. This is the fidelite that apper­tayneth to a noble and gentyll harte.

¶ In what hatered and perpetuall repro­che oughte they to be, that corrupted with pestilencial auarice or ambicion, do betraie theyr maysters, or any other that trusteth them? O what monstrous personnes haue we red and herde of, which for the inordi­nate [Page 178] and deuelyshe appetite to raigne, haue moste tyrannously slayne the chyldren, not onely of theyr soueraygne lordes, but also of theyr owne naturall bretherne, commit­ted vnto theyr gouernance? of whom pur­posely I leaue at this time to write, bicause the mooste cursed remembraunce of them shall not consume the tyme, that the wel disposed reder moughte occupie in examples of vertue.

¶ This one thynge I wolde were remem­bred, Uēgeance for treasō. that by the iust prouidence of god, dis­loyalte or treason, seldome escapeth great vengeaunce: Albe it that it be pretēded for a necessary purpose.

¶ Example we haue of Brutus and Cassy­us, two noble Romaynes, and men of excel lent vertues, whiche pretendinge an hora­rable zeale to the lybertye and commune weale of theyr Cytie, slewe Iulius Cesar, who trusted them most of al other, for that he vsurped to haue the parpetuall domini­on of the Impire, supposynge thereby to haue brought the senate and peple to theyr pristinate libertie. But it dydde not so suc­cede to theyr purpose. But by the dethe of so noble a prynce hapned confusyon and ci­uile batayles: And bothe Brutus and Cassius, after long warres, vainquished by Octa uian, neuewe & heire vnto Cesar, at the last [Page] fallynge in to extreme desperatyon, slewe them selfes. A worthye and conuenyente vengeaunce, for the murder of so noble and valyaunte a prynce. Many other lyke ex­amples do remayne, as well in wrytyng as in late remembraunce, whiche I passe ouer for this tyme.

Of promyse and couenant. cap. VII.

COncernynge that parte of fydelytie, whiche concernethe the kepynge of promyse, or couenantes, experience declareth howe lyttel it is nowe had in re­garde, to the notable rebuke of al vs, whi­che do professe Christes religion. Conside­ringe that the Turkes and Sarazens haue vs therfore in contempt and derision, they hauinge fidelite of promise aboue all thinge in reuerence. But no meruayle that a bare promyse holdeth not, where an othe vpon the Euangelistes, solempnely and openlye taken, is but lytel estemed. Lord god, how frequente and famyliar a thynge with eue­ry astate and degree throughout Christen­dome, is this reuerent othe on the Gospel­les of Christe? Howe it hath ben hytherto kepte, it is so well knowen and had in daye­ly experyence, that I shal not nede to make of the neglectynge therof any more decla­ration. [Page 179] Only I wyl shewe, howe the Gen­tiles, lackynge true religion, had solempne othes in great honour, and howe terrible a thynge it was amonge them, to breke theyr othes or vowes. In so moche as they sup­posed, that there was no power, victorye, or profyte, whiche mought be equall to the vertue of an othe.

¶ Among the Egiptians, they which were Periurye punished. periured, had their heddes stryken of, as well for that they violated the honour due vnto god, as also that therby faith and trust amonge people mought be decayed.

¶ The Scithes sware onely by the chayre or throne of theyr kyng, which othe if they brake, they therfore suffred deathe.

¶ The auncient Romaynes (as Tulli wri­teth) the fourme of an othe amonge auncyente romaynes. sware in this maner, He that shoulde swere, helde in his hande a stone, and sayd in this wyse, The Citie, with the goddes therof beinge saulfe, so Iupiter cast me out of it, if I deceyue wittingly, as I cast from me this stone. And this othe was so stray­tely obserued, that it is not remēbred, that euer any man brake it.

¶ Plutarche writeth, that the fyrste Tem­ple The gret­teste othe. that Numa Pompilius, the second king of Romaynes, made in the citie of Rome, was the temple of faythe. And also he de­clared, that the greatest othe, that mought [Page] be, was faythe: whiche nowe a dayes is vneth taken for any othe, but mooste com­munely Othes vsyd. is vsed in moekage, or in such thin­ges as men forse not, thoughe they be not beleued.

¶ In dayely communication the mater sa­uoureth not, excepte it be as it were seaso­ned with horrible othes, As by the holye blode of Christe, his woundes, whiche for our redemption he paynefully suffred, his gloryous harte, as it were numbles chop­ped in peaces. Children (which abhorreth me to remembre) do playe with the armes and bones of Chryste, as they were chery stones. The soule of god, whiche is incomprehensible, and not to be named of any creature without a wonderfull reuerence and drede, is not onely the othe of great gentil­men, but also so vndyscretely abused, that they make it (as I mought say) theyr gon­nes, wherewith they thunder out threte­nynges and terryble menacys, whan they be in theyr fury, though it be at the damna­ble playe of dyse. The masse, in which ho­uourable ceremony is left vnto vs, the me­morial of Christis glorious passiō, with his corporall presence in fourme of breade, the inuocation of the thre dyuine personnes in one deitie, with al the hole company of blessed spyrytes and soules electe, is made by [Page 180] custome so symple an othe, that it is nowe all moste neglected and lyttell regarded of the nobilirie, and is only vsed amonge hus­bande men and artificers: onelas some tay­lour or barbour, as well in his othes as in the excesse of his apparayle, wyll counter­fayte and be lyke a gentilman.

¶ In iudiciall causes, be they of neuer soo lyght importaunce, they that be no parties but straungers, I meane wytnesses and iu­rates, whiche shall procede in the triall, do make no lesse othe, but openly do renounce the helpe of god and his saintes, & the benefite of his passion, if they say not true, as fer furth as they know. Howe yuel that is ob­serued, where the one partie in degree fer excedeth the other, or where hope of re­warde or affection taketh place, no man is ignoraunte, sens it is euery yere more com­mune than haruist. Alas what hope shal we haue of any publike weale, where such a pe stilence reigneth? Doth not Salomō say, A man moche sweryng, shall be filled with in­iquitie, and the plage shall not depart from his house? O mercyfull god, howe manye men be in this realme, whiche be horryble swerers, and commune iurates periured? Than howe moch iniquite is there? & how many plages are to be feared, where as be so many houses of swerers? Suerly I am in [Page] more drede of the terryble vengeaunce of god, than in hope of amendemēt of the publyke weale. And so in myne opinion ought all other to be, which beleue, that god kno­weth all thynge that is done here in erthe: and as he hym selfe is al goodnes, so loueth he all thynge that is good, whiche is ver­tue, and hateth the contrary, which is vice. Also all thynge that pleaseth hym, he pre­serueth, and that thynge that he hateth, he at the laste destroyeth, but what vertu may be without veryte, called trouthe, the de­claration wher of is faythe or fidelitie? For as Tulli saythe, Fayth is a constaunce and truthe of thynges spoken or couenaunted. And in a nother place he saythe, Nothyng kepeth soo to gether a publyke weale, as doth fayth. Than foloweth it wel, that with our fayth a publyke weale maye not conti­nue. And Aristotle saith, By the same craft or meanes, that a publyke weale is fyrst cō ­stituted, by the same crafte or meanes is it preserued. Than sens fayth is the founda­tion of Iustice, whiche is the chiefe consti­tutour and maker of a publyke weale, and by the afore mencioned auctoritie, conser­uatour of the same, I maye well conclude, that fayth is bothe the originall, and (as it were) principal constitutour and conserua­tour of the publyke weale.

[Page 181] ¶ It is also no lyttell reproche vnto a man, Promyse. whiche estemeth honestie, to be lyte in ma­kynge promise: or whan he hath promised, to breke or neglecte it. Wherfore nothynge ought to be promysed, whiche shulde be in any wyse contrary to iustice.

¶ On a tyme, one remembred kynge Age­silaus Plutarch­in apoph­thegma. of his promyse. By god, sayde he, that is truthe, if it stande with iustice: if not, I than spake, but I promysed not.

¶ But nowe at this present tyme, we may make the exclamation, that Seneca dothe, sayinge, O the foule and dyshonest confes­sion Seneca de benefi. iii. of the fraude or mischiefe of mankinde nowe a dayes, seales be more sette by than soules. Alas what reproche is it to christen men, and reioysynge to Turkes and Sara­zens, that nothynge is so exactely obserued amonge them, as fayth, consistinge in lau­full promyse and couenaunte: And amonge christen mē, it is so neglected, that it is more often tymes broken than kepte? And not onely sealinge (whiche Seneca disdained, that it shulde be more set by then soules) is vneth sufficient, but also it is nowe come in to suche a general contempt, that al the lerned men in the lawes of this realme, which be also men of great wysedome, canne not with all theyr study, deuise so sufficiente an instrument, to bynde a man to his promyse [Page] or couenaunt, But that there shall be some thynge therin espied, to brynge it in argu­ment, if it be denied. And in case that bothe the parties be equall in estymation or cre­dence, or elles he that denyeth, superyour to the other, and no wytnesses deposeth on knowlege of the thynge in demaunde, the promyse or couenaunte is vtterly frustrate, whiche is one of the pryncypall decayes of the publyke weale, as I shall traite therof more largely here after. And here at this tyme I leaue to speke any more of the par­tes of that moste royall and necessary ver­tue, called Iustice.

Of the noble vertue fortitude, and of the two extreme vices, Audacite, and Timerositie. Ca. VIII.

IT IS TO be noted, that to hym, that is Gouernāce double. a gouernour of a publyke weale, belon­geth a double gouernance, that is to say, an interiour or inwarde gouernaunce, and an exterior or outwarde gouernaunce. The fyrste is of his affectes and passyons, whi­che doo inhabyte within his sowle, and be subiectes to reason. The seconde is of his chyldren, his seruauntes, and other sub­iectes to his auctoritie. To the one and the other is requyred the vertue morall called [Page 182] fortitude, which as moche as it is a vertue, is a Mediocritie or meane betwene two ex­tremities, the one in surplusage, the other in lacke. The surplusage is called Audaci­tie, the lacke Timorositie or feare. I name Audacitie that AVDACITIE, whiche is an excessife and inordinate trust, to escape al daungers, and causeth a man to do suche actes, as are not to be ieoperded. TIMOROSITIE is Timoro­sytie. as wel whan a man feareth suche thynges, as be not to be feared, as also whan he fea­reth thynges to be feared, more thanne ne­deth. For some thynges are necessary and good to be feared, and not to feare them is but rebuke. Infamye and reproche, be of al honest men to be dradde. And not to feare thynges that be terrible, agaynste whiche no power or wytte of manne can resyste, is foole hardynesse, and worthy no prayse, as erthe quakes, rages of greatte and sodaine floddes, whiche doo beare downe before them mountaines and greatte townes. Al­so the horryble furye of sodayne fyre, de­uourynge all thynge that it apprehendeth. Yet a man that is valyaunte, called in latine A valyan man. Fortis, shall not in suche terryble aduen­tures be resolued into waylinges or despe­ration. But where force constrayneth him to abide, and neyther power or wysedome assayed, may suffice to escape, but wyl he or [Page] no, he must nedes perysshe, there dothe he paciently susteine dethe, which is the ende of al euyls. And lyke as an excellente Phi­sition cureth most dangerous dyseases and dedely woundes, so dothe a man that is va­liaunte, auaunce hym selfe as inuyncible in thynges that do seme most terrible, not vn­aduisedly, and as it were in a bestely rage, but of a gentyl courage, and with premedi­tation, eyther by victorie, or by dethe win­nynge honour and perpetuall memory, the iuste rewarde of theyr vertue.

¶ Of this maner of valiaunce was Horati­us Cocles, an auncient Romayne, of whose example I haue all redy writen in the firste booke, where I commended the feate of swymmynge.

¶ Pirrhus, whom Anniball estemed to be King Pir­rhus the hardye. the seconde of the moste valyaunt capitay­nes, assaultyng a stronge fortresse in Sicile called Erice, fyrste of all other scaled the walles, where he behaued him so valiantly, that suche as resisted some he slewe, and o­ther by his maiestie and fierce coūtenaunce he dyd dyscomfit. And finally before any of his armye, entred the walles, and there a­lone susteyned the hole bronte of his enne­myes, vntyll his people, whiche were with out, at the laste myssynge hym, stered part­ly with shame, that they had so loste hym, [Page 183] partely with his couragious example, toke good harte, and inforced them selfes in su­che wyse, that they clymed the walles, and came to the succour of Pirrhus, and so by his prowesse wanne the garison.

¶ What valyant harte was in the Romayn Mutius Sceuola, whiche whan Porcena, kynge of Ethruscanes, had by great power constrayned the Romayns, to kepe theym within their citie, toke on hym the habyte of a begger, and with a sworde priuely hid vnder his garment, went to the ennemyes Campe, where he beinge taken for a beg­ger, was nothynge mystrusted: and whan he had espied the kynges pauilliō, he drew hym thyther, where he founde dyuers no­ble men syttynge. But for as moche as he certaynly knewe nat, whiche of them was the kynge, at the laste perceyuynge one to be in more ryche apparayle than any of the other, and supposinge hym to be Porcena, he or any man espied him, stepte to the said lorde, and with his sworde gaue hym suche a stroke, that he imediatly died. And Sce­uola being takē (for he coude nat escape su­che a multitude) boldly confessed, that his hande erred, & that his intent was to haue slain kinge Porcena. Wherwith the kynge (as reason was) all chauffed, cōmaunded a great fyre forthewith to be made, wherein [Page] Sceuola shulde haue ben brenned, but he nothynge abasshed, sayde to the kynge, Thynke nat Porcena, that by my deathe onely, thou mayste escape the handes of the Romayns, for there be in the citie thre hundred yonge men, suche as I am, that be prepared to slee the by oone meanes or o­ther, and to thaccomplysshemente therof, be also determyned to suffre all tourmen­tes, wherof thou shalte haue of me an ex­peryence in thy syghte: and incontynently went to the fyre, whiche was made for to brenne hym, and with a gladde counte­naunce, dydde putte his hande into the flame, and there helde it withoute chaun­gynge of any countenance, vntyll his sayde hande was brenned vnto asshes. In lyke wyse he wolde haue putte his other hande into the fyre, if he had not bene withdra­wen by Porcena, who wonderynge at the valyaunt courage of Sceuola, lycenced hym to retourne vnto the citie. But whan he consydered, that by the wordes of Sce­uola, so greatte a nombre of yonge men of semblable prowesse, were confederate to his distruction, so that or all they coude be apprehended, his lyfe shulde be alwaye in ieoperdye, he dyspayrynge of wynnynge the cytie of Rome, raysed his siege, and departed.

¶ In what actes fortitude is, and conside­rations therto belongyng. Ca. ix.

BUt all though I haue nowe rehersed sondry examples, to the cōmendation of Fortitude, concernyng actes mar­tiall, yet by the way I wold haue it remē ­bred, that the prayse is proprely to be re­ferred vnto the vertue, that is to saye, to enterprise thynges dredfull, eyther for the publike weale, or for winnyng of perpetual honour, orels for eschewynge reproche or dishonour. Whervnto be annexed these cō ­siderations, what importaunce the enter­prise is, and wherfore it is done, with the tyme and oportunitie whan it oughte to be done. For (as Tulli sayth) to entre in ba­tayle, and to fyght vnauysedly, is a thynge wylde, & a maner of beastes: but thou shalt fyght valyantly, whan tyme requireth and also necessitie. And alway deathe is to be preferred before Seruitude, or any disho­nestie. And therfore the actes of Annibal, ageynst the Saguntynes, which neuer did him displeasure, is nat accounted for anye prowesse. Neither Cataline, which for his singular cōmodite, & a fewe other, making detestable warres agaynste his owne coū ­trey, entendyng to haue brenned the noble citie of Rome, and to haue distroyed all the [Page] good men, is nat numbred amonge valyant men, all though he faught manly and with great courage, vntyll he was slayne.

¶ What auayled the boldnesse of Uarro & Flamimus, noble capitayns of Romayns, whiche despisynge the prowesse and crafte of Anniball, & contemning the sobre coūcel of Fabius, hauyng only trust in their owne hardynesse, loste two noble armyes, wher­by the power of the Romayns was nyghe vtterly peryshed. Wherfore eftsones I say, who maye be called a valyaunt man. that a valyaunt man is he, that dothe tolle­rate or suffre that, which is nedefull, and in suche wyse as is nedefull, and for that whi­che is nedefull, and also whan it is nedeful. And he that lacketh any of this, may be called hardy, but nat valyant.

¶ More ouer, all though they, whyche be hardy, or persons desperate, haue a simily­tude, and seme to be valiant, yet be they nat valiant, no more than kinges in may games and enterludes be kinges. For they that be hardy, er they come to the perylle, seme to be fierce and egre, and in begynnyng their enterprise wonderful hasty, but whan they feele the thing more hard and greuous thā they estemed, theyr courage decaieth more and more, and as men abashed and vnpre­pared, their hartes vtterly do fayle, and in conclusyon they appere more faynte, than [Page 185] they that be cowardes.

¶ Also in Desperatiō can nat be fortitude: for that beinge a morall vertue, is euer vo­luntary. Desperation is a thyng as it were constrayned, ne hath any maner consyde­ratyon, where fortitude expendeth euery thynge and acte diligently, and dothe also moderate it with reason.

¶ Here now appereth (as I suppose) th [...]t neyther they, whiche employe their force without iust cause or necessite, ne they, whiche without forecaste, or (as I mought say) circumspection, wyll take in hande an hard enterprise: ne they, whiche heedlong wyll fall into daungers, from whens there is no hope to escape: nor yet men desperate, whiche dye wyllyngly without any motion of honor or zeale towarde the publike weale, be in the nombre of valyant persons, but of a refuse company, and rather to be rekned with bestes sauage, than amonge men, whi­che do participate with reson. For as Cur­tius Q. curstus saythe, It appertaineth to men, that be valyaunt, rather to dispise deathe, thanne to hate lyfe.

¶ A Man is called in latine VIR, whereof saythe Tulli, VERTVE is named. And the moste propre vertue longynge to a man, is FORTITVDE, wherof be two excellente propreties, that is to say, the contempte of [Page] dethe, and of griefe. But what very forti­tude is, he more playnely declareth after­warde, in a more larger circūscription, say­ing, Thinges humain ought to be litell este med, deth nat regarded, labours & griefes to be thought tollerable. Whan this is ra­tified by iugement and a constant opinyon, than that is valyant and stable fortitude. But there vnto I wolde shulde be added, whyche opynyon and iugement procedeth of a reason, and nat repugnant to Iustice. And than it shall accorde with this sayinge of Aristotle, A valyant man susteineth, and Aristotle. dothe that, whiche belongeth to fortitude, for cause of honestie. And a lyttell before he saith, A man that is valyant, as well suf­freth, as dothe that, whiche agreeth with his worshyp, and as reason commaundeth. So no violence or sturdy mynde, lackynge reason and honestie, is any parte of forti­tude. Unto this noble vertue be attendant, or as it were continuall adherentes, diuers vertues, whiche do ensewe, and be of right great estimation.

¶ Of peynefulnesse, the fyrst compani­on of Fortitude. Cap. x.

IN theym, whiche be eyther gouernours or capytaynes, or in other offyce, where vnto appertayneth greatte cure or dis­patchynge [Page 186] of sondry great affayres, peyn­fulnesse, namyd in latyne TOLLERANTIA, is wonderful cōmendable. For therby thinges be in suche wise exployted, that vtilitie procedeth therof, and seldom repentance. For as moche as thereof commeth an ex­cellent fruite, called oportunitie, whiche is euer rype, and neuer in other astate. For lacke of this vertue, moche wysedom, and many a valyaunt enterprise, haue peryshed and tourned to none effecte. For if thinges sharpely inuented, prudently discussed, and valyauntly enterprysed, be nat dylygente­ly folowed, and without cessynge applyed and poursewed, as it were in a momente all thynge is subuerted: and the peynes be­fore taken with the tyme therin spente, is vtterly frustrate.

¶ The peinfulnes of Quintus Fabius (be inge dictator or principall capitayne of the Romayns) in leadynge his army by moun­taynes, and other harde passages, so disa­poynted Anniball of the hope of vyctorie, wherin he so moche gloried, that at the last he trayned and drewe Anniball & his hoste into a fyelde, inclosed aboute with moun­taynes, and deepe ryuers, where Fabius had so enuironned hym, by the fortifieng of two mountayns with his people, that they were in ie oper dye, eyther to be famyshed, [Page] for lacke of vitayle, or elles in fleinge, to be slayne by the Romaynes, yf the crafty and polytyke wytte of Anniball hadde not de­lyuered them. Which for the notable inuention, I wyll borowe so moche tyme of the reder, to renewe the remembraunce therof in our Englishe tonge.

¶ Anniball, perceyuinge the daunger that he and his armye were in, commaunded in The poly­cye of An­nibal to escape from the Ro­maynes. the depe of the nyghte, whan nothyng was sterynge, to be brought before hym, about two thousande greate oxen and bulles, whiche a lyttel before his men had taken in fo­ragynge, and caused fagottes made of dry stickes to be fastned vnto theyr hornes, and sette on fyre. The beastes, troubled with the flame of fire, rāne as they were woode vp towarde the mountaynes, where as lay the hoste of the Romaynes. Anniball with his hoole armye folowynge in araye.

The Romaynes, whych kepte the moun­taynes beinge soore afrayde of this newe and terryble syght, forsoke theyr places. And Fabius dredynge the deceytefull wyt of Annibal, kept the army within the trēch, and so Anniball with his host escaped with out domage. But Fabius, beinge payneful in pursuinge Anniball from place to place, awaytynge to haue hym at aduauntage, at the laste dyd so fatigate hym and his hoste, [Page 187] that therby in conclusion his power myni­shed, and also the strength of the Cartha­ginenses, of whom he was generall capy­tayne. In so moche as they were at the last constrayned to countermande hym by son­dry messangers, wyllynge him to abandon the warres in Italy, and to retourne to the defence of his owne citie. Which by the o­pinion of moste excellent writers shuld ne­uer haue hapned, yf Fabius wold haue left any part of his purpose, eyther for the te­diousnesse of the peyne and trauayle, or sor the intollerable rebukesg, yuen vnto hym by Minutius, who imbrayded hym with cowardyse.

¶ Amonge the vertues, whiche abounded in Iulius Cesar, none was accounted more excellente, than that in his counsayles, af­faires, and exploitures, he omitted no time, ne forsoke any peine. Wherfore most sonest of any man, he achieued & brought to good passe, all thynge that he enterprised.

¶ Suppose ye that the same Anniballe, of whome we late spake, coulde haue wonne frome the Romaynes, all Spayne, and haue perced the mountaynes, called Al­pes, makynge a way for his armye, where before was neuer any passage, & also haue gotten all Italye vnto Rome gates, yf he had not bene a man peynefull and of labour [Page] incomparable?

¶ Iulius Cesar, after he had the intier go­uernaunce and dominion of the empyre of Peyneful­nes in he­ringe con­trouersies. Rome, neuer omitted labour and diligence as well in commune causes as priuate, con­cernynge the defence and assistence of in­nocētes. Also he laborously and studiously discussed controuersies, whiche almost dayly, he harde in his owne person.

¶ Traiane, and both Antonines emperors of Rome, and for their vertue worthy to be emperours of all the worlde, as wel in ex­teriour affaires, as in the affaires of the ci­tie, were euer so continually occupied, that vneth they founde any lyttel tyme, to haue any recreation or solace.

¶ Alexander also, for his incōparable grauitie, The paine of a perfite gouernour called Seuerus, being but of the age of .xviii. yeres, whan he fyrste was made emperour, finding the noble citie of Rome, than maystresse of the worlde, throughely corrupted with moste abhomynable vices, by the moste shamefull example and liuyng of that detestable monster, Uarius Helio­gabalus next emperour before hym, a gret parte of the senate and nobilitie, being re­solued into semblable vices, the chiualry dispersed, martiall prowes abandoned, & well nyghe the maiestie imperiall dissolued and brought in contempt, was so inflamed with [Page 188] the zele of the pristinate honour of the Romayns, that he vtterly laid apart al pleasu­res and quietnes, & holly gaue his wyt and body to study and trauayles intollerable, & chosing out of all partes of the world, men of greattest wisdom & experience, & consul­tyng with them, neuer ceassed, vntil he had reduced, aswell the Romayns as all other cities & prouinces, vnto theym subiecte, to their olde moderation and temperance.

¶ Many other examples could I reherse to the cōmendation of peinfulnes: but these shal suffise at this presēt tyme, to proue that a gouernour must nedes be peinefull in his owne person, if he desire to haue those thin ges prosper, that ar vnder his gouernance.

¶ Of the noble and fayre vertue na­med Pacience. Cap. XI.

PACIENCE is a noble vertue, apper­teinyng as well to inward gouernāce, as to exterior gouernaunce: and is the vanquyshour of iniuries, the sure defence agaynst al affectes and passiōs of the soule, retayning always glad semblant in aduer­sitie and dolour.

¶ Saynt Ambrose saith in his boke of offi­ces, Ambrossiꝰ Off. [...]. Better is he, that contemneth iniurie, than he that soroweth. For he that contem [Page] neth it, as he nothyng felte, passeth nat on it: But he that is sorowfulle, is therwith tourmented, as though he felte it.

¶ Whiche was wel proued by Zeno Elea­tes, a noble philosopher, who being a man of excellent wisdome and eloquence, came to a citie, called Agrigentum, where reig­ned Phalaris, the mooste cruell tyrant of al the worlde, who kept and vsed his owne people in moste myserable seruytude. And fyrst he thought by his wysedome and elo­quence, to haue so perswaded the tyrant to temperaunce, that he shoulde abandon his cruel and auaricious appetite: but custome of vice more preuailed in him than profita­ble counfayle. Wherfore Zeno, hauyng pi­tie at the wretched astate of the people, excited dyuers noble men, to delyuer the ci­tie of that seruyle condytion. This coun­sayle was nat so secretely gyuen, but that notice therof came to the tyrant, who cau­syng al the people to be assēbled in the market place, caused Zeno there to be cruciate with sondry turmentes, alwais demandyng of hym, who dyd participate with hym of his sayd counsayle: but for no peynes wold he confesse any person, but induced the ty­raunt to haue in mystrust his nexte frendes and familyar seruantes. And reprouing the people for their cowardyse and drede, he [Page 189] at the last so inflamed thē vnto libertie, that sodainly with a great vyolence they fell on the tyrant, and pressed him with stoones. The olde Zeno, in all his exquisite turmē ­tes neuer made any lamentable crie, or de­syre to be relyued.

¶ But for this fourme of Pacyence, this onely example suffyseth at this tyme, sens there be so frequent examples of martyrs, whiche for true religiō sustayned paciently not onely equalle tourmentes with Zeno, but also farre excedynge. But nowe wylle I write of that Pacience, that pertayneth vnto interior gouernaunce, wherby the na­turall passions of man be subdued, and the malyce of fortune susteyned. For they whi­che be in autorite, & be occupied about gret affaires, their liues be nat only replenished with labours and greuous displesures, but also they be subiectes to sondry chances.

¶ The meane to obtayne Pacience, is by Pacience howe hit may be opteyned. two thinges principally, A dyrecte and vp­right conscience, & true and constant opini­on in the estimation of goodnes: which sel­dome commeth onely of nature, excepte it be wonderfull excellent, but by the diligent study of very philosophy. (nat that whiche is sophisticate, and consisteth in sophismes) nature is therto prepared & holpen. This Opinion good or yl opinion is of such power, that ones cleuing [Page] fast to the mynd, it draweth a mā as it were by violēce to good or euyl. Therfore Tul­li saith, Like as whā the blod is corrupted, and either fleume or colere, black or redde, Tusc. g. 3. is superhabūdāt, than in the body be ingē ­dred sores & diseases: so the vexation of e­uyll opinions, & their repugnancie, dispoy­leth the mynd of all helth, and troubleth it with griefes. ¶ Contrarywise afterwarde Tulli describeth good OPINION, and calleth it the beautie of the sowle, sayinge in this wise, As of bodily membres, there is an apt figure, with a maner plesantnesse of colour, & that is called beautie: so in the sowle, the equalitie and constance of opinions, & iuge mentes ensuyng vertue, with a stable & sted faste purpose, or conteynyng the selfe same effect, that is in vertue, is named Beautie. Whiche sentences depely inuestigate, and well perceyued, by them that be about prin cis and gouernours, they maye consyder, howe ware and circumspecte they oughte to be in the inducynge them to opinions.

¶ Of pacience in susteynyng wronges and rebukes. Cap. XII.

VNto hym that is valyant of courage, it is a great peyne and diffycultie to susteyne iniurie, and nat to be forthe [Page 190] with reuenged: and yet oftentymes there is accounted more valiantnesse, in the suffe­rance, than in an hasty reuēgyng. As it was in Antoninus the emperour, called the philosopher, ageynst whom rebelled one Cas­sius, & vsurped the imperial maiestic in Sy­ria, & in the caste partis. Yet at the laste the same Cassus being slayn by the capitaynes of Antonine next adioyning, he ther of vn­wittinge, was therwith soore greued. And therfore takyng to him the childrē of Cas­sius, entreated them honorably, wherby he acquired euer after, the incomparable and moste assured loue of his subiectes.

¶ As moche dishonour & hatred his sonne Cōmodus wanne by his impacience, wher­in he soo exceded, that for as moche as he founde not his bayne hette to his plesure, he caused the keper therof to be throwē in to the hote brennyng fornais. What thyng mought be more odible, thanne that moste dyuellyshe impacience?

¶ Iulius Cesar, whan Catullus the poete wrate agaynst him contumelious or repro­cheable versis, nat onely forgaue hym, but to make hym his frende, caused him often­tymes to soupe with hym.

¶ The noble emperour Augustus, whan it was shewed him, that many mē in the cite had of him vnsittynge wordes, thought it a [Page] sufficient answere, that in a fre citie mē must haue their tūges nedes at liberte. Nor ne­uer was with any person, that spake euyl of hym, in worde or countenance wors discon tented. ¶ Some men wylle nat prayse this maner of paciēce, but account it for folishe­nes: Remedy agaynst im­pacience. but if they beholde on the other side, what incommoditie cōmeth of impaciēce, howe a man is therwith abstract fro reson, & tourned into a monstruous fygure, and do cōferre all, that with the stable countenāce and pleasant regarde of him that is p aciēt, and with the commoditie that dothe ensue therof, they shall affirme, that that simplici­tie is an excellent wysedome.

¶ More ouer, the beste way to be aduen­ged, is so to contemne iniurie and rebuke, and lyue with suche honestie, that the doer shall at the laste be therof ashamed, or atte the leste, lese the fruite of his malyce, that is to say, shall nat reioyce and haue glorye of thy hyndrance or domage.

¶ Of pacyence in repulse or hynde­rance of promotion. Ca. XIII.

TO a man, hauynge a gentyl courage, lykewise as nothinge is so pleasaunt, or equally reioyceth hym, as reward or preferremente sodaynelye gyuen, or a­boue [Page 191] his merite: so nothynge maye be to hym more dyspleasaunt or payneful, than to be neglected in his payne takynge, and the rewarde and honour, that he loketh fore, and for his merites is worthy to haue, to be gyuen to one of lasse vertue, and perchance of no vertue or laudable qualitie.

¶ Plato in his Epistoll to Dion kynge of Scicile sayth, It is good ryght, that they, whiche be good men, and doo the sembla­ble, obteyne honour, whiche they be wor­thy to haue.

¶ Undoughtedly in a prince or noble man, Commodities which do happen by the ad­uancement of good men. maye be nothynge more excellente, ye no­thynge more necessary, than to aduaunce men after the estimation of theyr goodnes, and that for two speciall commodities, that come therof. Fyrste that therby they pro­uoke many men to apprehend vertue. Also to them, whiche be good, and all redy ad­uanced, they gyue suche courage, that they endeuour them selfes with al theyr power, to encrease that opinion of goodnes, wher by they were broughte to that aduaunce­ment, which nedes muste be to the honour and benefyte of those, by whom they were sópromoted. Contrarye wyse, where meu frome theyr infancye haue ensued vertue, worne the florysshynge tyme of youthe in paynefull study, abandonynge al lustes and [Page] other thynge, whiche at that tyme is plea­saunte, trustynge thereby to profytte the publyke weale, and to obteyne honoure: whan eyther theyr vertue and trauayle is lyttell regarded, or the preferment, which they loked for, is gyuen to other not equal in meryte, it not onely perceth theyr harte with moehe anguysshe, and oppresseth thē with dyscomforte, but also mortyfyeth the courages of many other, whiche be apte­ly disposed to study vertue, & hoped ther­by to haue the propre rewarde therof, whiche is commendation and honour, whiche beynge gyuen to men, lackynge vertue and wysedome, shall be occasion for them to do yuell, as Democritus sayth. For who dou­teth, but that auctoritie in a good man doth publyshe his vertue, which before lay hid. In an yuell man it ministreth boldnesse and lycence to do yuel, which by drede was be­fore couered.

¶ Surely this Repulse, or (as they vul­garly speake) puttynge backe frome pro­motion, is no lyttell payne or dyscomforte, but it maye be withstande, or at the least re­medied with Pacience, whiche maye be in this wyse induced.

¶ First, consideryng that the worlde was Pacience howe hit may be in­duced. neuer so constant, that at all tymes before, good men were iustely rewarded, and none [Page 192] but they onely promoted.

¶ Cato, called Uticensis, at whose wyse­dome all the world wōdred, and whose grauitie, as wel the senate and peple of Rome, as other kynges and pryncis, reuerensed, lokynge to be one of the Consules, was o­penly reiected, wherwith his frendes and kynsemen toke no lyttell discomforte. But Cato hym selfe, so lyttell regarded that re­pulse, that where allwayes he wente very homely, he the nexte day folowynge, dec­ked and trymmed hym selfe more freshclye than he was wonte: and whan he had she­wed hym selfe so to the peple, at after none he walked with one of his frendes in the markette place, bare legged, and in sengle apparayle, as he was accustomed.

¶ Scipio called Nasica, who by the hoole senate was iuged the beste man in the citie, and of an auncyente howse, was lyke wyse put backe, fro beinge Consule.

¶ Lelius lyke wise, which was openly cal­led the wyse man, was semblably refused. And dyuers other, of whom hystories doo make mēcion, were abiecte, whan they had well deserued honours, and theyr infery­ors in merites promoted.

¶ Also a mannes confeyence shal wel com­forte hym, whanne he hath soo lyued, that where he is knowen, men do iuge hym worthy [Page] preferment. And than maye he saye to them, whiche meruayle, why he is not ad­uaunced, as Cato say de to a persone, that tolde to hym, that menne wondred, why a­monge A Wise sentence of Cato. soo many noble mennes images, as were set vp in the citie, Catos image was not espyed. By god sayde Cato, I had le­uer that men wondred why I haue none i­mage sette vp, than why men shulde set vp myne image. So if menne meruayle, why a man is not aduanced, knowyng him a good man, than iuge they hym to be worthy pro­motion, whiche iugement procedeth of fa­uour: and than though he lacke promotiō, yet hath he perfecte glory, whiche euerye noble harte desireth. For Tulli sayth, The perfecte and moste pryncipall glorie, con­systeth in those thre thynges, If the mul­titude loue vs: if they putte confydence in vs: if also, as it were meruaylynge at vs, they thynke vs worthy to haue honour gy­uen vnto vs.

¶ With this glory and clennesse of consci­ence, shall a wyse man content hym, and be induced to Pacience, & not be greued with his fortune, but to folowe Democritus, in laughing at the blinde iugementes of men, in bestowynge promotions.

¶ I omytte at this tyme, to write any more of this vertue Pacience, sens to the insty­tution [Page 193] of a gouernour, this semeth to be sufficient, to the residue he shal be better per­swaded by the warkes of Plutarche, Se­neca, and Pontane, where they wryte of Pacience, whiche warkes he maye rede at his leasour.

Of Magnanimitie, whiche maye be named valyaunt courage. Cap. XIIII.

MAGNANIMITIE is a vertue moche commendable, and also expedient to be in a gouernour, and is as I haue say de, a companion of fortitude, And may be in this wyse defyned, that it is an excel­lencie of mynde, concernynge thynges of great importaunce or estimation, doinge althynge, that is vertuous, for the achieuing of honour.

¶ But nowe I remembre me, this worde Magnanimitie, being yet straunge, as late borowed out of the latine, shall not content all men, and specially them, whom nothing contenteth out of theyr accustome Mump­simus: I wyl aduenture to put for Magna­nimitie, a worde more familiar, callynge it Courage, good CORAGE, whiche hauinge respect to the said definition, shall nat seme moche inconuenyente. But nowe concernynge a more larger description of the sayd vertue, [Page] Aristotle sayth, That man semeth to be of noble courage, that is worthy, and also iu­geth him selfe worthy to haue thinges that be great. He sayth also afterwarde, Noble courage is an ornamente of vertues, for it maketh them the more ample, and without them she her selfe may not be.

¶ But I wyll for a lyttell tyme leaue this noble Philosopher Arystotelle, and reue­rentely interprete a place in the offices of Tulli, where he mooste eloquentely and playnely setteth out this vertue sayinge, Alwaye a valyaunte and noble courage is dis­cerned by two thynges specyally, wherof one is in dyspysynge thynges outewarde, whan a man is perswaded, neyther to mer­uayle at any thynge, neyther to wysshe or desyre any thynge, but that whiche is ho­neste. More ouer, that a manne shulde not bowe for any fortune or trouble of mynde. A nother thynge is, whan thou art of that mynde or courage, as I before sayde, that thou thanne practyse those thynges, not onely whiche be greate, and moste profy­table, but also that be very dyfficile and full of labour and perylle, as well concernynge mannes lyfe, as many other thynges ther­to perteynynge.

¶ And afterwarde the same Tulli saythe, To esteme lyttel those thynges, which vn­to [Page 194] the more parte of men semeth excellent, and also with reason firme and stable to cō ­tempne them, is sygne of a noble and valy­aunt courage. Also to tollerate those thin­ges, whiche doo seeme bytter or greuous (wherof there be many in the lyfe of man, and in fortune) in such wyse as thou depart not from the astate of nature, neyther from the worshyp perteyninge vnto a wyse man, betokeneth a good courage, and also mo­che constaunce.

¶ By this it semeth, that MAGNANIMI­TIE, or good courage, is as it were the garmente of Uertue, wher with she is sette oute (as I moughte saye) to the vtter­mooste. I meane not, that therby vertue is amended or made more beauteous, whi­che of her selfe is perfecte: but lyke wyse as a ladye of excellente beautye, thoughe she be all wayes sayre, yet a ryche and a fresshe garmente declareth her astate, and causeth her the more to be loked on, and thereby her naturall beautye to be the bet­ter perceyued. Semblably doth Magna­nimitie, ioyned with any vertue, sette it wonderfullye furthe to be beholden, and (as I mought say) meruayled at, as it shall appere aboundauntly in the examples en­suynge.

¶ Agesylaus, kyng of Lacedemonia, in the [Page] begynnynge of his youthe, perceyuynge all Greece to be in great feare, for the fame that was sprade of the Persians, comynge with an infinyte armye: with a noble cou­rage profred, not only to defende his owne countrey, but also with a small host to passe the sees into Asia, and frome thens eyther to brynge victory of the Persians, or els a sure and honorable peace. With whose cou­rage, the Lacedemones hyghely recom­forted, delyuered vnto hym .x. thousande souldiours, with the whiche hoste he went into Asia, and there vainquisshed the Per­sians, and retourned ioyfully into his coū ­treye, with his people all saulfe, to his per­petuall renoume, and also the honour and suertie of all Greece.

¶ Antigonus, kyng of Macedonia, being on the see, one of his capytaynes aduysed hym to departe, sayinge, The nauye of his ennemye was moche greatter in noumbre than his: where vnto with a noble courage he aunswered, And for howe many shyp­pes accounte you our personne? wherwith his people toke suche comforte, that they boldely dyd sette furthe, and vaynquisshed theyr enemyes.

¶ Suche noble courage was in great king Alexander, that in his warres agaynst Da­rius, he was sene of al his people fightynge [Page 195] in the prease of his enemyes bare heeded.

¶ I wyll nat be so vncurtaise, to leue vnre­membred in this place, the notable magna­nimitie of a kynge of Englande, whiche I hapned to rede late in an olde cronycle.

¶ Edgar, who in the tyme that the Saxōs had this realme in subiection, hadde sub­dewed all the other kynges Saxons, and made theym his trybutaries. On a tyme he had them all with hym at dyner, and af­ter it was shewed him, that Aynande, king of Scottes, hadde sayd, that he wondred howe it shoulde happen, that he and other kynges, that were talle and greatte perso­nages, wolde suffre them selfes to be sub­duaed by so lyttell a body as Edgare was. Edgare dissembled and answered nothing, but faynynge to go on huntyng, toke with hym the Scottyshe kynge in his company, and purposely withdrewe hym from them that were with hym: And causynge by a secrete seruaunte, two swerdes to be con­ueyde into a place in the foreste, by hym appoynted. As soone as be came thither, he toke the oone sworde, and delyuered the other to Kinande, byddynge hym to proue his strength, and to assaye, whither his dedes wolde ratifie his wordes. Wher­at the Scottysshe kynge beynge abashed, beholdynge the noble courage of Edgar, [Page] with an horrible feare confessed his error, desyrynge pardon, whiche he with mooste humble submission, at the laste optayned.

That noble kynge Edgare, declarynge by his Magnanimitie, that for his vertue and nat by chaunce, he was elected to reygne ouer so noble a region.

¶ Plato for his diuine wysedome and elo­quence, named the god of Philosophers, was sent for by Dionyse kyng of Sicile, to the intent, as it semed, that he wolde be of hym instructed, concernynge the polytike gouernance of his realme. But whan he had ben with him a certaine space, & wolde nat flatter with the kynge, and vpholde his tyranny, the kynge became wery of him, in so moche that if it hadde nat ben at there­quest of Architas, price of Tarēt, he wold haue put hym to dethe. Wherfore partely at the desyre of that prince, partly for feare of the Athenienses, he lycenced Plato to depart without damage: but at his depar­tynge, he sayde vnto hym, as it were in de­spite, O howe euylle wylte thou speake of me Plato, whan thou commest among thy companyons & scolers? Than Plato with a noble courage answered, God defende, there shuld be in my scole so moche vacant tyme frome the studye of wysedome, that there mought be anye place lefte, ones to [Page 196] remembre the.

¶ Nowe wyl I make an ende of this ver­tue, & procede further to wryte of some vi­ces, which cōmōly do folow magnanimite, and with gret difficultie may be eschewed.

¶ Of Obstinacy, a familiar vice, folowinge Magnanimitie. Cap. XV.

THE PRINCE OF Oratours, Mar­cus Cullius, in his fyrst boke of of­ficis, sayth, In height and greatnes of courage, is mooste soonest ingendred Obstinacye, and inordinate desyre of So­ueraignetie. OBSTINACIE is an affection immoueable, fyxed to wylle, abandonynge reason, which is ingendred of Pryde, that is to say, whan a manne estemeth so moche him self aboue any other, that he reputeth his owne wytte onely, to be in perfection, and contemneth al other councell. Undou­tedly this is an horrible & peryllous vyce, and very familiar with theym, whiche be of moste noble corages. By it many a valiant capitayne and noble prince, haue nat onely fallen them selfes, but also brought al theyr countreys in daunger, and oftentymes to subuercion and ruine.

¶ The wise king Salomon saith, Amonge proude men be all waye contentions: And [Page] they that do all thinges with counsayle, be gouerned by wysedome. I nede nat to re­herse examples out of olde writers, what damage hath ensued of Obstinacie, consy­deryng that euery hystorie is full therof, & we styll haue it in dayly experience. But of one thyng am I sure, where Obstinacy ru­leth, and reason lacketh place, there coūcel auaileth nat: And where councell hath nat auctoritie and franches, there may nothing be perfect. Salomon sayth, Where be many Prouer. xi. counsayles, there the people is in suretie. Nowe wyll I declare the resydue of Tul­lies sentence, concernynge inordynate de­syre of soueraignetie, whiche is proprelye callyd Ambition.

¶ Of an other vyce folowing magnanimi­tie, called Ambition. Cap. XVI.

IT was nat without a high and prudente consideration, that certayne lawes were made by the Romaynes, whyche were named the lawes of Ambition, whereby men were restrayned in the citie to obtayn offyces and dignities in the Publyke wele, eyther by gyuynge rewardes, or by other synyster laboure or meanes: And they, whyche by that lawe were condempned, were putte to deathe without any fauoure. [Page 197] Uerily it was a noble lawe, and for all pla­ces necessary, consyderinge what inconue­nience hapneth by this vaine and superfiu­ous appetite, wytnesses amonge the Ro­mayns, Sylla, Marius, Carbo, Linna, Pō ­pei, and Cesar, by whose ambicion mo Ro­mains were slayne, than in acquyrynge the empire of al the world. Sylla condemned, and caused to be slayne, foure score thou­sande Romayns, beside many mo that were slayne in the battayles, betwene hym and the bothe Marius.

¶ Also Pompei, and Iulius Cesar, the one suffrynge no piere, the other no superiour, by theyr ambycion caused to be slayne be­twene them, people innumerable, and sub­uerted the beste and mooste noble publyke weale of the worlde, and fynally hauynge lyttel tyme of reioysing theyr vnlefull de­sire, Pompeie shamefully fleinge, had his heed striken of, by the cōmandment of Pro lomee, king of Egipt, vnto whome as vnto his frende he fledde for succour. Cesar the vanquyssher, was murdred in the Senate with daggers, by them, whome he mooste specially fauoured.

¶ I could occupie a great volume with hi­stories of them, whiche couetynge to moūt into excellent dignities, dyd therby bringe in to extreme perylles, bothe them selues [Page] and their countreys. For as Tacitus saith, wonderfull elegantly, With them, whyche desyre soueraygnetie, there is noo meane place betwene the toppe & the step downe. To the whyche wordes agreynge Tullie sayth, Hygh auctorities shulde nat moche Ci. off. 1. be desired, or rather nat to be taken at somtyme, and oftentymes to be lefte and for­saken. So dyd Sylla, whome I late spake of. And Dioclesyan Emperour of Rome, who after he hadde gouerned the empyre Sextus Aurelius. XXV. yeree honourably (yf he hadde nat ben polluted with the blod of innumerable Christen men) wyllyngely abandoned the crowne and dignitie imperial, and lyued .ix. yeres on his priuate possessions. And on a tyme beinge desired of Herculius and Ga­lerius, vnto whom he had resigned the empire, to take efteso ones on him the gouer­nance, abhorringe it as a pestilence, answe­red in this wyse, I wolde ye dydde see the herbes, that I haue with myn owne hādes sowen and set at Salona, surely ye wold nat than in this wyse aduise me.

¶ Also Octauius Augustus, which in feli­citie passed all emperours, deuised often ti­mes with his frendes, to haue resygned his auctoritie. And if at that tyme the Se­nate had ben as wel furnished with noble & wife ꝑsonages, as it was before the Ciuile [Page 198] warres, betwene Cesar and Pompeie, it is to be thought, that he wolde surely haue restored the publike weale to his pristinate glorie. But nowe lette vs see, what is the cause, that Ambytion is so pernicious to a publyke weale.

¶ In myn opinion it is for two causes prin Ambition why it is il cipally. Fyrste for as moche as they, why­che be of that courage and appetite, whan they be in auctoritie, suppose al thing to be lefull that lyketh them. And also by reason of their preeminence, wolde soo be sepe­rate from other, that no man shuld cōtrolle them, or warne them of their enormyties, and finally wolde do what they lyste with­out contradiction. Wherof do ensewe dy­uers iniuries and subuertion of iustyce.

And this, whiche I haue nowe sayd, Tulli affirmeth to be true, sayinge, Uerily it is a great difficultie, where thou woldest be a­boue all men, to obserue equitie. Whiche is the thing most appropried to iustyce. And shortely after he sayth, The more hygher of corage that a mā is, & desirous of glory, the soner is he meued to do thīges ageinst ryght. Seing it was so, in the time of Tul­li, whan almoste euery man, that was in au­ctoritie, had de excellent lernyng (the Ro­maines bryngyng vp their children in stu­dye of morall philosophye (what shall we [Page] suppose in our tyme, whan fewe men in au­ctoritie do care for lernyng? Why shuld we thynke to be more iustyce nowe vsed in au­ctoritie, than was in the tyme of Tulli? Is there nat nowe priuate affection, particu­lar fauour, displeasure and hatrede, as was at that tyme? I wolde the reders hereof, shuld be iuges, examinyng these my wordis with daily experience.

¶ The second cause, that condēneth Am­bicion, Conetyse. is couetyse of treasure, therwith to mainteyn their ostentation and vaynglory, whiche ambicious persons, doo call theyr honour, wherby they be procured to fynde vniuste meanes by their auctoritie, to pro­uyde for suche substaunce, wherwith they may be nat onely satisfied (they beinge in­saciable) but accordynge to their owne ap­petite fully suffysed. Wherfore the philoso­phers, called Stoici, vsed this sentēce, gret indigence or lacke cometh nat of pouertie, but of great plentie, for he that hath moch, shall nede moche.

¶ But certes suche ambycious persones, may well consider, that the magnificence & pompe, whiche they couete, is nat so moch wondred at, as auarice & collection of mo­ney is vniuersally hated. Wherfore Darius, Plutarchꝰ in apoth. kyng of Persia, and father to Xerxes, whā he had cōmanded a subsidie to be leuyed of [Page 199] his subiectes, demanded the chiefe men of the countreyes, whether they founde themselfe greued. They answerynge, that they were in a merely good case, he commaun­ded the one halfe to be eftesones restored, leste he of any auarice shulde be suspected. By the whiche acte he stabysshed his dig­nitie, and made it more perfecte.

¶ More ouer, Tulli saythe, To take any Ci. off. iii. thynge from an other man, and one man to encrease his cōmoditie with an other mans detryment, is more repugnaunt to nature, than deathe, than pouertie, payne, or other thynge that mought happen, eyther to the body or other goodes worldly.

The true definicion of abstinence and Contynence. Cap. XVI.

ABSTINENCE and continencie be al­so cōpanions of fortitude, and be noble and excellent vertues, and I can not tel, wheter there be any to be preferred before them, specially in men hauynge au­toritie, they being the brydles of two capi­tall vices, that is to saye, Auarice and Le­cherie. Whiche vices being refrayned by a noble man, that lyueth at libertie and with­out controlement, procureth vnto hym, be­syde the fauour of god, immortall glorye. [Page] And that cite or realme, wherof the gouer­nours with these vices be lyttel or nothing acquainted, do abide longe in prosperytie. For as Ualerius Maximus saythe, where so euer this feruent pestilence of mankynd hath entry, Iniury reygneth, reproche or infamy is spradde and deuoureth the name of nobylitie. The propretyes of these two vertues, be in this maner.

¶ Abstinence is, wherby a man refraineth from any thyng, which he may lefully take, for a better purpose. CONTINENCE, is a vertue whiche kepeth the pleasaunte ap­petite of man vnder the yoke of reasō. Ari­stotell, makynge them bothe but one, des­cribeth them vnder the name of continēce, Ethi. vii. sayinge, He that is continent, for as moche as he knoweth, that coueitous desyres be yuell, dothe abandone theym, reason per­swadynge hym. For this tyme I take ab­stynence, for the refusynge of money, pos­sessions, or other thynge semblable. Conti­nence, the only forbearyng the vnlefull cō ­pany of women.

¶ Martius Coreolanus, a noble yonge Absteynig from re­wardes, Coreolanꝰ man, whiche lyneally descended from An­cus, sometyme kynge of Romaynes, whan he had done many valyaunte actes, and a­chyeued sondrye enterpryses, was accor­dyng to his merites commended in the ar­mye [Page 200] by Postumius, than being consull, and by theyr vniuersall assente, was rewarded with all suche honours, as than appertey­ned to a good warryour: Also with one hū dred acres of arable lande, the election of ten prisoners, ten horsis apparayled for the warres, one hundred of Oxen, and as mo­che syluer as he moughte beare. But of all this wolde he take no thynge, but one one­ly prysoner, whiche was of his acquayn­taunce, and one courser, whiche al wayes after he vsed in batayle.

¶ Marcus Curius, the very rule & paterne Curius, of Fortitude and moderate liuing, whā the people, called Samnites, which had war­res with the Romaynes, founde hym syt­tyng in his house by the fire vpon a homely fourme, catyng his meate in a dyshe oftre, they bringing to him a great some of golde by the consent of the people, and wondring at his pouertie, with courtaise langage, de­syred hym to take that they had broughte him, he therat smylyng, said thus vnto thē, Ye ministers of a vaine and superfluous message, shewe you to the Samnites, that Cu­rius had leuer haue domynyon ouer theym that be ryche, than he hym selfe to haue ri­chesse. And as for this golde, which ye ac­counte precious, take it agayne with you, & remembre, that ye can neyther vaynquishe [Page] me in batayle, nor corrupte me with money

¶ Quintus Tubero, surnamed Catelius, what tyme he was Consull, the people in Tubero. Greece, called Aetoli, sente to hym by theyr ambassadonrs, a great quantitie of sil­uer vessel, curiously wrought and grauen. But whan they came to hym, they founde on his table vessel only of erthe. And whan he sawe them, he exhorted them, that they shulde not suppose, that his contentation in pouertie, shulde be with theyr presentes relyued. And with that saying, commaunded them to depart.

¶ To Epaminondas, the Thebane, beinge Epaminō ­das. in his tyme, as well in vertue as prowesse, the moste noble man of all Grece, Arthax­erses, kynge of Persya, to make hym his frende, sent one of his seruauntes to The­bes, with a greatte quantitie of treasoure, whiche seruaunte knowynge his maners, darste not offre it vnto hym whan he came, but speakynge to a yonge man, which was famyliar with Epaminōdas, gaue vnto him a great rewarde, to meue Epaminondas to receiue the kinges present. Who vneth he­rynge the fyrste wordes of the yonge man, commaunded the kynges seruaunte to be broughte vnto hym, vnto whome he hadde these wordes.

Frende, shewe to the kynge, that he ne­deth [Page 201] not to offre me money: for if he haue any thynge to do with the Thebanes for a good purpose, he may haue theyr assistence with out any rewarde: if the purpose be nought, he can not with al the treasoure of the worlde hope to obteyne it

¶ Whiche wordes were spoken with suche a grauitie, that the sayde seruaunte, beinge a ferde, desyred Epamynondas, that he mought be saulfly conuayed out of the cite: whiche he graunted with good wyll, leaste if the money were taken away, he mought of the receyuynge therof, haue ben suspe­cted. More ouer, he caused the Thebane, whiche was his frende and companyon, to restore to the messager the money that he had receyued.

¶ Semblable abstinence was there in Pho Phocion. cion, a noble counsaylour of Athenes, vn­to whome the ambassadoure of the greatte kynge Alexaunder, broughte from theyr mayster a hundred Talentes of gold, whi­che were of englyshe money .xii. thousand pounde. But before that he herde theym speke any thynge, He demaunded of them, why to him onely the kynge sente so boun­teous a rewarde. And they answered, for as moche as kynge Alexander iuged hym only to be a good man and a iust. Than suf­fre ye me (say de Phocion) to be & to seme [Page] the same man, that your king doth iuge me, and cary your golde agayne to hym.

¶ To the same Phocion, the ambassadour of Antypater (who succeded the greatte kinge Alexander in Macedonia) offred to gyue a great some of money: whiche Pho­cion despysynge, sayde in this wyse, Sens Antipater is not greatter than Alexander, nor his cause better, I doo nothynge per­ceiue, why I shulde take any thing of him. And whan the Oratour wolde haue hadde Phocions sonne, to haue taken the money, Phocion answered, If his sonne wolde be lyke vnto him, he shuld haue no nede, ney­ther of that money, nor of none other. If he wolde be vnlyke vnto hym, and of dysso lute maners, neyther Antipaters gystes, nor none others, were they neuer so great, shulde be sufficient.

¶ By these examples it doth appere, how good men dyd alwaye flee from rewardes, all though they mought haue ben lefully taken, whiche in them was neyther folyshe­nes nor yet rusticitie, but of a prudent con­sideracion. For as moche as bothe by wise­dome and experyence they knewe, that he which taketh a rewarde before any thinge done, is no lenger at lybertye, but of a free man is made bonde, bycause he hath taken erneste for his true endeuour. Also by the [Page 202] takynge, he is become an yuel man, though before he were good, For if he receyue it for an yuel purpose, he is than a wretche & detestable: If the matter were good, than is he not ryghtwyse in selling a good dede, which he ought to do thankfully, and with out rewarde.

¶ And I doubte not who soo euer is con­tented with this presente astate, and supposeth felycitie to be in a meane, and al excesse to be peryllous, wyll alowe these senten­ces, and thynke them worthy to be had in remembraunce, specyally of theym that be gouernours. For that realme, or Cytie, where men in auctorytie haue theyr han­des open for money, and theyr howses for presentes, is euer in the way to de subuer­ted▪ Wherfore Caius Pontyus, prynce of Samnytes, was wont to saye, I wold god, that fortune had reserued me vnto the time and that I hadde be than borne, whan the Romaynes shulde begynne to take gyftes, I shulde thanne not suffre them any lenger to rule.

¶ Paulus Emilius, whan he had vaynqui­shed Paulꝰ Ae­milius. kynge Perses, and subdued al Mace­donia, brought into the commune treasory of Rome an infinite treasure, that the sub­staunce of that one prynce dyscharged all the Romaynes to paye euer after any taxe [Page] of subsidie. And yet for all that goodes E­milius brought nothing into his own house but onely perpetuall renoume.

¶ Scipio, whan he had goten and destroi­ed Scipio Affrican. the greatte Citie of Chartage, was not therfore the rycher one halfepeny.

¶ By this appereth, that honour resteth not in rychesse, all though some perchance wyll saye, that theyr reuenues be smal, and that they muste take suche rewardes as be lefull, only to maynteyne theyr honour: but let them take hede to the sayinge of Tulli, Nothynge is more to be abhorred, than A­uarice, specially in princis, and in them whiche Ci. off. ii. do gouerne publyke weales.

The examples of continence, gyuen by noble men. Capl. XVII.

NOwe wil I speke of CONTINENCS, whiche is specially in refraynynge or forbearynge the acte of carnall plea­sure, whervnto a man is feruently meued, or is at libertie to haue it. Whiche vndoubted­ly is a thynge not onely diffycyle, but also wonderfull in a man noble or of great auto­ritye▪ but in suche one as it hapeneth to be, nedes muste be reputed moche vertue and wysedome, & to be supposed, that his minde is inuincible, consyderynge that nothynge [Page 203] so sharpely assaileth a mans minde, as doth carnalle affection, called (by the folowers therof) loue. wherfore Plato saith, that the soule of man, which by loue is possessed, di­eth in his owne body, & lyueth in an other.

¶ The gret kyng Alexāder, after his first Alexander victorie agaynst kynge Darius, hauyng all wayes in his hooste, the wyfe of the same Darius, whiche incomparably excelled all other women in beaultie, wolde neuer, af­ter he had ones sene her, haue her come in his presence. Al be it that he caused her a­state styl to be mainteined, and with as mo­che honour as euer it was: and to theym, whiche wondrynge at the ladyes beautie, meruayled, why Alexander dyd nat desire to haue with her company, he aunswered, saying, It shuld be to hym a reproche, to be ony wyse subdued by the wyfe of hym, whō he had vanquyshed.

¶ Antfochus, the noble kynge of Asia, in Antiochꝰ the citie of Ephesum, behelde a virgin (be­inge a Mynchen in the temple of Diana) of excellent beautie, and perceyuyng hym selfe to be rauyshed in the loue of the mai­den, hastily and immediatly departed oute of the citie, lest loue shulde constrayn hym to violate the virgine: wysely consydering that it was best, to absteyne from doing ba­tayle with that enmy, which vneth mought [Page] be vanquished, but by flyght onely.

¶ The valyaunt Pompei, whan he hadde Pompeius vanquyshed the kynge Mithridates, and had taken dyuers of his concubynes, whi­che in beautie excelled, wold haue no car­nall knowlege with any of them: but whan he knewe, that they were of noble lignage, sente theym vndefyled to theyr parentes and kynnesfolke.

¶ Semblably dyd Scipio, whan he wanne Scipio. Carthage. For amonge dyuers womenne, whiche were there taken: one most faireste of other, was brought vnto him, to do with her his plesure. But after that she had dis­couered to hym, that she was affyanced to a gentylle man, called Indibilis, he caused him to be sent for, and whan he behelde the lamētation & signes of loue betwene them, he nat only deliuerid her to Indibilis, with her raunsome, whiche her frendes hadde payde for her redemption: but also added therto an honorable porcion of his owne treasure. By the whyche contynence and lyberalitie, he wan the hartes of Indibilis and all his blode, wherby he the soner op­tayned and wanne all the countrey.

¶ Of this vertue be exāplesinnumerable, as well of gentiles as of christen men: But these for this tyme, shall suffyse, sauynge for the strangenesse of it, I wyll reherse a [Page 204] notable hystorie, whiche is remembred by the most excellent doctor saynte Hierome.

¶ Ualerian beinge emperour of Rome, & A wonder full conti­nence in & Christian martyr. persecutyng the churche, In Egipt was a christen man presented vnto hym, whome he beholdynge to be yonge and lusty, thin­kynge therfore to remoue hym frome the faythe, rather by veneryall mocions, than by sharpenesse of tourmentes, caused hym to be layde in a bedde within a fayre gar­dayne, hauynge aboute hym all flowres of swete odour and moste delectable sauours and perfumes. And than caused a fayre ten der yonge woman to be layd by hym al na­ked, who ceassed nat swetely and louyngly to embrace and kysse hym, shewing to hym all plesant deuises, to the intent to prouoke him to fornication. There lacked litle, that the yong mā was nat vāquisshed, & that the fleshe yelded nat to the seruyce of Uenus. That ꝑceiuing the yong mā, which was ar mid with grace, & seing none other refuge, with his teth did gnawe of his owne tūge, wherwith he suffred suche incredible pein, that therwith the brennyng of voluptuous appetite was vtterly extincte.

¶ In this notable acte, I wote not which is to be commended, eyther his inuincible corage, in resisting so moch against nature, or his wisedome, in subduing the lasse peyn [Page] with the more: and bytyng of that, wherby he mought be cōstrained to blasphem god, or renounce his religion. Sure I am, that he therfore receyued immortalle lyfe, and perpetuall glorie.

¶ And this I suppose suffiseth, to ꝑswade mē of good nature, to embrace Continēce. I meane nat to lyue euer chast: but to ho­nour matrimony, and to haue good awayt, that they let nat the sparkes of concupis­cence grow in great flames, wherwith the wyttes shal be dryed vp, and all noble ver­tues deuoured.

¶ Of constance or stabilitie. Ca. XVIII.

IN BVYLDYNGE of a fortresse, or other honorable mancion, it ought to be welle consydered, that the cement or morter, wherwith the stones be layd, be fyrme and well byndynge. For if it be brokle, and wyl mouldre away with euery showre of rayn, the buyldyuge may not contynewe, but the stones, nat surely couched and mortred, fall away one after an other, & finally the holle house is defaced and falleth in ruine. Sem­blably, that man, whiche in chyldehode is brought vp in sondry vertues, if eyther by nature, or els by custom, he be nat induced, to be alwaye constant and stable, so that he [Page 205] meue nat for any affection grefe or displea­sure, all his vertues wyll shortly decay, and in the estimation of men be but as a shadow and so one forgotten. For though he haue all the gyftes of nature and fortune, & also is adorned with doctrine and vertue, whi­che he in his chyldhod hath acquired with moche trauayle, watche, and study, & adde nat to Constaunce, whan he cometh to the tyme of experience, whiche experience is as it were the warke of the craftes of man, being meued with any priuate affection, or feare of aduersitie, or exterior damage, will omytte any parte of his lernyng or vertue, the estymation of his persone immediately cesseth amonge perfecte warkemen, that is to saye, wyse men, and finally being waue­rynge or vnstable, what thynge in him may be commended?

¶ And in one thyng me semeth that Con­stance Constance equall to Iustyce. hath equail prayse with iustyce: that is to saye, that he that is hym selfe iniuste, loueth that person, that dealeth iustly with hym, and contrary wise, hateth that person that dealeth iniustly, or doth hym wronge. In lykewyse he, whiche is inconstant, ex­tolleth hym, whom he fyndeth constaunt, and desyrethe to haue hym his frende: on the other parte, heis angrye with hym, whom he prouethe inconstaunt and waue­rynge, [Page] and accounteth hym a beaste, and vnworthy company of men: and awayteth diligently to truste hym with nothyng.

¶ We note in chylderne inconstancie, and lykewyse in women, the one for sklender­nes of wyt, the other as a naturall sicknes. Therfore men vse in rebuking a man of in­constance, to calle hym a chyldyshe or wo­manly persone. All be it some women now adayes be founden more constant than mē, and specially in loue toward their husban­des, or els mought there happen to be som wronge inheritours.

¶ Constance is as propre vnto a man as is reason: And is of such estymation, that ac­cordyng as it was spoken of a wise man, It were better to haue a constant ennemy, thā an inconstant frende. Whereof I my selfe had sufficiente experience.

¶ But now to declare some experience of Constance, wherby the reders may be the more therto prouoked, I wyl reherse some examples therof, out of olde histories, as I shall happen to remembre them.

¶ After that Sylla had vanquished Ma­rius, [...]ceuols. and distroyed the parte of his aduer­saries, he, with a great numbre of persons all armed, enuironned the senate, intending to compell them by violence to condemne Mariꝰ for a traitour. Whiche request none [Page 206] darste geynesaye, Sceuola onely excepte, who beinge therof demanded wolde gyue no sentence. But whan Sylla dyd cast therfore on him a cruell countenance, he with a constant vysage, and noble courage, said to hym, Sylla, although thou facest and thret nest me with thy multytude of souldiours, with whome thou haste thus besieged this courte, ye and although thou doest menace me with dethe neuer soo moche, yet shalte thou neuer bring to passe, that for shedinge a lytell olde blode, I shall iudge Marius a traytour, by whom this citie and all Italye haue ben preserued.

¶ The constance, that great kyng Alexā ­der had, in trustyng his frende against fals Alexāders confidence reporte, saued his lyfe: wher of all men de­spaired. for after that noble battaile, wher­in he had vanquyshed Darius, & taken his treasure, as he passed through Cilicia, be­inge fore chaufed with feruente heate, and the length of his iourney, he came by the ryuer, called Cydnus, & beholding it clere and pleasaunt, and thynkynge to asswage therin the heates that he suffered, wente thereinto naked, and dranke therof: But immediatly, by the excedyng colde, which was in that water, his finewes shranke, and his ioyntes became vnweldy, and as they were deed, & all his hoste being discōforted [Page] he was conueyed to a cytie thereby, called Tarsum. Wherevpon the phisitions assem­blyd to deuyse the beste remedy. All were determyned, to gyue hym one medycyne, and that it shuld be mynistred by one Phi­lyppe, chiefe physicyon with Alexander. In the meane tyme Parmemo, one of the greattest capytaynes about Alexander, ad uertysed hym by his letters, that he shuld beware of the treason of the sayde Philip sayenge, he was corrupted with a greatte somme of moneye by Darius. Wherwith he beynge nothynge esbaied, helde in his handes the letter, and receyuyng the me­dycyne, that Philippe gaue hym, at oone tyme delyuered the letter open to Philyp, and dranke also the medycine, declarynge therby the constāce that was in his frend­shyppe. Whyche trust, nat onely caused na­ture the better to wark with the medicine, but also bounde soo the harte of the Phy­sition towarde hym, that he euer after stu­dyed more diligently for the helpe and pre seruation of the noble prince, that dydde so moche truste hym.

¶ The Constance of Cato Uticensis was Cato. alway immoueable, in so moche that at son­dry tymes, whan he in the Senate egrely defended the publike weale, with vehemēt & longe orations, agaynste the attemptates [Page 207] of ambicious persons, he was by them re­buked, and commytted to pryson, But he therfore not cessynge, but goynge towarde prison, detected to the people as he went, the vnlefull purposes and enterpryses of them, by whom he was punyshed, with the peryll that was imminente to the publyke weale, whiche he dyd with suche courage and eloquence, that as well the Senate as the people drewe so aboute hym, that his aduersaryes were fayne for feare to dys­charge hym.

¶ Who can sufficiently commende this no­ble man Cato, whan he redeth in the war­kes of Plutarche of his excellent courage and vertue? Howe moche worthyer had he ben, to haue had Homere the trumpe of his fame immortal, than Achilles? who for a lytell wenche contended with Agamem­non onely: where Cato for the conseruati­on of the weale publyke contended, and al­so resysted agaynste Iulius Caesar and the great Pompey, and not only agaynst their menaces, but also agaynste theyr desyres, and offres of alyaunce. Whereof I wolde gladly haue made a remembraunce in this warke, if the volume thereby, shulde not to moche haue increased and becomen vn­handsome.

¶ Undoughtedly constaunce is an honou­rable [Page] vertue, as inconstance is reprocheful and odious. Wherfore that man, whiche is mutable for euery occasyon, must nedes of­ten repent hym, and in moch repentaunce is not onely moche foly, but also great de­trymente: whiche euery wyse man wyll es­chue, if he can. Wherfore to gouernours no thyng is more propre, than to be in their li­uynge stable and constant.

The true signification of Temperaunce, a morall vertue. Cap. XIX.

THIS BLESSED company of vertues, in this wise assēbled, foloweth TEM­PERANCE, as a sad and dyscrete ma­trone and reuerent gouernesse, awaytynge dylygentely, that in any wyse voluptie or concupiscence haue no preemynence in the soule of man.

¶ Aristotelle defyneth this vertue, to be a Arist. ethi. mediocritie in the plesures of the body, spe cially in taste and touchynge. Therfore he that is temperate, fleeth pleasures volup­tuous, and with the absence of them is not discontented, and from the presence of thē, he wyllyngely absteyneth. But in myne op­pynyon Plotinus, the wonderfull philoso­pher, maketh an excellent definition of tē ­peraunce, sayinge, that the propretie or of­fice [Page 208] therof is, to couaite nothynge, whiche maye be repented, also not to excede the boundes of mediocritie, and to kepe desire vnder the yocke of reason.

¶ He that practiseth this vertue, is called Tēperate incōtinēce. a temperate man, and he that doth contra­ry therto, is named intemperate: betwene whom and a person incontinent, Aristotell maketh this diuersytie, that he is intempe­rate, whiche by his owne election is ladde, supposynge the pleasure that is presente or (as I moughte saye) invre, shulde alwaye be folowed. But the personne incontynent supposeth not so, and yet he not withstan­dynge dothe folowe it. The same auctour also maketh a diuersitie, betwene hym that is temperate, and hym that is contynente, sayinge, The continente man is suche one, that nothynge wyll do for bodely pleasure, whiche shall stande agaynste reason. The same is he, which is temperate, sauing that the other hath corrupt desyres, which this man lacketh.

¶ Also the temperate man delyteth in no­thynge, contrary to reason. But he that is contynent delyteth: yet wyll he not be lad agaynst reason. Fynally to declare it in few wordes, we maye well call hym a Tempe­rate man, that desyreth the thyng which he ought to desire, and as he ought to desyre, [Page] and whan he ought to desyre. Not withstā ­dyng there be diuers other vertues, which do seme to be as it were companions with temperaunce. Of whom (for the exchuing of tediousnes) I wyll speke nowe onely of two, moderation, and so brenesse, whiche no man (I suppose) doubteth to be of suche efficacie, that without them no man may at­tayne vnto wysedome: and by them wyse­dome is sonest espied.

Of Moderation a spyce of tem­peraunce. Capi. XX.

MODERATION in the lymyttes and boundes, whiche honestie hath ap­poynted in speakynge and doynge: lyke as in rennynge, passyng the gole, is ac­counted but rasshenesse, so rennynge halfe way is reproued for slownesse. In like wise, wordes and actes be the paces, wherin the witte of man maketh his course, and mode­ration is in stede of the gole, whiche yf he passe ouer, he is noted eyther of presumpti on, or of foole hardynesse, if he come short of the purpose, he is contempned as dulle and vnapt to affayres of great importance. This vertue shall best be perceyued by re­hersyng of examples shewed by noble men, whiche is in effecte but dayly experience.

[Page 209] ¶ Fabius Maximus, beynge fyue tymes Consul, perceyuyng his father, his graūd father, and greate graundefather, and dy­uers other his auncetours, to haue hadde often tymes that moste honourable digny­tie, whan his sonne by the vniuersal consent of the people shuld be also made consul, er­nestely intreated the people, to spare his sonne, and to gyue to the house of Fabius, as it were a vacatiō time from that honour: Not for any mystruste that he hadde in his sonnes vertue and honestie, but that his moderation was suche, that he wolde not that excellente dignitie shulde alwaye continue in one familie.

¶ Scipio Affricanus the elder, whan the senate and people had purposed, that accordynge to his merytes he shulde haue cer­taine statues or imagis set in al courtes and places of assembly, Also they wolde haue set his image in triumphāt apparayle with­in the capitole, and haue graunted to hym to haue ben consul and Dictator duryng his lyfe, not withstandyng he wolde nat suffre, that any of them shulde be decreed, eyther by the acte of the senate, or by the peoples sufferage. wherin he shewed hym selfe, to be as valyaunt in refusynge of honours, as he was in his actes, wherin he hadde them well deserued.

[Page] ¶ There is also moderation in tolleration of fortune of euery sorte, whiche of Tulli Tollerati­on of for­tune good and badde. is called equabilitie. whiche is, whan there semeth to be alway one visage and counte­naunce, neyther changed nor for prospery­tie nor for aduersitie.

¶ Metellus, called Numidicus, in a com­mune sedicion being banished from Rome, and abydynge in Asia, as he hapned to syt with noble men of that countrey, in behol­dynge a great play, there were letters de­lyuered hym, wherin he was assertayned, that by the hole consente of the senate and people, his retourne into his countrey was graunted. Not withstandynge, that he was of that tidinges excedinge ioiful, yet he re­meued not, vntyll the playes were ended, nor any mā sitting by him, mought perceiue in his countenaunce any token of gladnes.

¶ Whan the gret kinge Antiochus, which long time had in his dominion al Asia, whi­che is accoūted to be the third parte of the world, was at the last vāquished by Lucius Scipio, & had lost the more part of his em­pire, & was assigned but to a small portiō, v­sed his fortune so moderately, that he gaue gret thākes to the Romains, that being de­lyuered of so gret burdō & charge, he more casely mought gouerne a lyttell dominion.

¶ Alexander beyng elect and made empe­rour [Page 210] of Rome at .xvi. yeres of his age so excelled al other in vertue, that the senate and people wolde haue hym called, the greatte Alexander, and father of the coūtrey, whi­che of al names was highest, he with a wō ­derfull grauitie refused it, saying, It beho­ued, that those names were obteyned by merites and ripenesse of yeres.

¶ The same prince also wold not suffre his empresse to vse in her apparayle any richer stones than other ladyes, and if any were giuen her, he either caused them to be sold, or els gaue them vnto Temples, affyrming that the examples of pompe and inordinate expensys, shoulde not procede of the Em­perours wyfe.

¶ And whan for the honoure, that he dyd to the Senate and lawes, his wyfe and his mother rebuked hym, sayinge, he shulde brynge the imperiall maiestye into to lowe astate, he aunswered, It shuld be the surer, and continue the longer.

¶ There is also a Moderatiō to be vsed a­gaynst Modera­tion of wrathe. wrathe or appetite of vengeaunce.

¶ Hadriane the Emperour, while he was but a pryuate person, bare towarde a capy­tayne greuous dyspleasure, who afterward herynge, that he was made emperour, was in great feare, least Hadrian wolde be ad­uenged. But whanne he came to the Em­perours [Page] presence, he nothynge dyd or said to hym, but onely these wordes, Thou hast well escaped. By whiche wordes he well declared his moderation, and also that who so euer putteth on the habyte of a comune person or gouernour, it shal not beseme him to reuenge priuate dyspleasures

¶ Architas, whan he had ben a long space out of his countrey, & at his retourne foūde his possessyons and goodes dystroyed and wasted, sayde to his balyfe, I wolde surely punysshe the, if I shulde not be angry.

¶ Moche lyke dyd Plato. For whan his seruaunte had offended hym greuously, he desyred Speusyppns his frende to punishe hym, leaste (sayde he) if I beate hym, I shulde hap to be angry. Wherin Plato de­serued more prayse than Arthitas, in as moche as he obserued pacience, and yet dyd not suffre the offence of his seruaunte to be vnpunyshed. For most often tymes the omittyng of correction redoubleth a trespace.

¶ Semblable moderation and wysedome Aulus Gellius remembrethe to be in Plu­tarche Aulꝰ Gell. the philosopher, whiche was may­ster to Trayane the emperour. It hapned that the bondeman of Plutarch had cōmit­ted somme greuous offence: wherfore his mayster wylled, that he shulde be sharpely punysshed: and commaundynge hym to be [Page 211] stryded naked, caused an other of his ser­uantes in his prnesence to beate hym. But the slaue, who as it semid was lerned, while he was in beatyng cried out on Plutarche, and in maner of reproche saide vnto hym, Howe agreeth this with thy doctrine, that preachest so moche of paciēce, and in al thy lessons reprouest wrath: and nowe contra­ry to thyne owne teachynge, thou arte all inflamed with wrathe, and clene frō the pa­cience, which thou so moch praysest? Unto whom Plutarche, without any chaunge of countenaunce, aunswered in this fourme, Thou embraydest me causeles with wrath and impacience, I praye the, what percei­uest thou in me, that I am angry or oute of pacience? I suppose (excepte I be moche deceyued) thou seest me nat stare with myn eyen, or my mouth imbosed, or the coloure of my face chaunged, or any other defor­mitie in my persone or gesture, or that my wordes be swyfte, or my voyce louder than modestie requyreth, or that I am vnstable in my gesture or motion, whyche be the si­gnes and euydent tokens of wrathe & im­pacience. Wherfore said he to the correc­tour, sens he can not proue, that I am yet angry, in the meane tyme, whyle he and I do dispute of this matter, and vntyll he vt­terly do cesse of his presumption and obsti­nacy, [Page] loke that thou styl beate hym.

¶ Uerily in myne opinion Plutarch herin declared his excellent wysedome and gra­uitie, as well in his exaumple of pacience, as also in subduyng the stubborne courage of an obstinate seruaunte. Whyche hystory shall be expediēt for gouernours to haue in remembrance, that whan accordyng to the lawes, they do punysshe offendours, they them selfes be nat chaufed or meued with wrathe. But (as Tulli sayth) be like to the lawes, whiche be prouoked to punyshe nat Off. 1. by wrathe or displeasure, but only by equi­tie. And immediatly the same auctour gy­ueth an other noble precepte, concernyng moderation in punyshment, saying, In cor­rectynge, wrath is principally to be forbo­den, for he that punyssheth whyle he is an­gry, shall neuer kepe that meane, whyche is betwene to moche and to lyttell.

¶ Of sobrietie in diete. Cap. XXI.

VErily I nothinge doute, but that the more part of the reders of this wark wyll take in good parte al that is be­fore writen, consyderynge the benefyte, & also the ornament, that those vertues, of whom I haue spoken, of good reason and congruence must be to them, in whom they [Page 212] shall be planted and do contynewe. But I knowe well, that this chapiter, which now ensueth, shal vneth be thankfully resceiued of a fewe reders, ne shall be accoūted wor thy to be radde of any honourable person, consyderynge that the mattier therin con­teyned is so repugnant and aduerse, to that pernicious custome, wherin of longe tyme men haue estemed to be the more parte of honour, in so moche as I very wel knowe, that some shall accounte great presumption in this myne attemptate, in writyng ageinst that, whiche hath bene so longe vsed. But sens I haue taken vppon me to wryte of a publyke weale, whyche taketh his begyn­nynge at the example of them that be go­uernours, I wyl nat lette, for the disprayse gyuen by theym, whyche be abused, with all study and dyligence to discriue the aun­cient temperaunce, and moderation in diet, called SOBRIETIE, or in a more generall terme FRVGALITIE, The acte whereof is at this daye as infrequente or out of vse Frugalite. amonge all sortes of men, as the termes be straunge vnto them, whiche haue nat bene well instructed in latyn.

¶ The noble emperour Augustus, who in all the resydue of his lyfe, was for his mo­deration & tēperance excellētly cōmended, suffred no lytle reproche, for as moch as he [Page] in a secrete souper or banket, hauyng with hym sixe noble men his frendes, and syxe noble women, and namyng him selfe at that tyme Apollo, and the other men and wo­men the names of other goddis and god­dessis, fared sumptuously & delycately, the citie of Rome at that tyme beinge vexyd with scarcitie of grayne: he therfore was rente with curses and rebukes of the peo­ple: in so moch as he was openly called A­pollo the turmentour, sayinge also that he with his goddis had deuoured their corn, with whiche libertie of speche being more perswaded than discontēted, fro than forth he vsed suche a frugalitie or moderation of diete, that he was contented to be seruid at one meale with thre disshes, or syxe at the mooste: whiche also were of a moderate price, and yet therin he vsed such sobrenes, that either he hym selfe wold nat sytte, vn­tyll they whiche dyned with hym, had eatē a good space: or els if he satte whan they dyd, he wolde aryse a great space, or any of them had lefte eatynge. And for what pur­pose, suppose ye, dyd this emperour in this wise, in whom was neuer spot of auarice or vile courage? Certes for two causes. Fyrst, knowing the inconueniencis, that alway do happen by ingurgitations and excessiue fe­dynges: Also that lyke as to hym was cō ­mitted [Page 212] the souerayne gouernance of al the worlde, so wolde he be to al men the gene­rall exāple of lyuynge.

¶ Nowe what damages do happen among men by immoderate eatyng and drinkynge, we be euery day taught by experience: but to brynge them (as it were to mens eien) I wyll set them out euidently.

¶ Fyrste, of sacietie or fulnesse be ingēdrid paynfull diseases & sicknesses, as squynces, distillatiōs, called reumes or poses, hemor­roydes, Galenꝰ de sa [...]tuend lib. v. great bledynges, crampes, duske­nesse of sight, the tisike, and the stiche, with many other that come nat nowe to my re­membrance. Of to moche drynkynge pro­cedeth dropsies, wherwith the body, & oftē tymes the vysage, is swollen and defaced, beastly fury, wherwith the myndes be pe­rished, and of all other most odious, swyne dronkennes, wherwith both the body and soule is deformed, and the fygure of man is as it were by inchauntement transfourmed into an vgly and lothesome ymage. Wher­fore the Lacedemones somtime purposely caused their rusticall seruantes to be made very dronk, and so to be brought in at their commune dyners, to the intent that yonge men, beholdynge the deformitie and hastye fury of them, that were dronkardes, shuld lyue the more sobrely, and shulde eschewe [Page] dronkennesse, as a thyng fowle and abho­mynable.

¶ Also pittacus (one of the seuen sages of Grece) did constitute a law, that they, whi­che beinge dronke dyd offende, shulde su­stayne double punyshement: that men shuld the more dily gently forbeare to be dronke.

¶ It is right euydente to euery wise man, who at any time hath haūted affaires, wher what pro­fite is in so briete, and what dis­commodi­te hapneth by the con trary. vnto was required contēplation or seryous study, that to a man, hauing due concoction and digestion, as is expediente, shall in the mornyng fastyng, or with a lytel! refection, not onely haue his inuencion quycker, his iugement perfecter, his tonge redyar, but also his reason fresher, his eare more atten tife, his remembrance more sure, and gene­rally al his powers & wittis more effectual, and in better astate, than after he hath catē abundantly. And I suppose for this cause, the auncient courtes of recorde in this re­alme, haue euer benne vsed to be kept on­ly before none. And surely the considera­tion is wonderfull excellent, and to be (as I mought saye) superstytiously obserued: the reasons why, be so apparant, that they nede nat here to be rehersed.

¶ Pythagoras was neuer sene to eate any fyshe or fleshe, but onely herbes & fruites. Semblably dyd many other, who exactely [Page 213] folowed his doctrine. Wherfore it was sup posed, that they the rather excelled all o­ther, in fyndyng out the secretes and hidde knowleges of nature, which to other were impenctrable.

¶ Plato, or rather Socrates, Plato indic­tynge, in his seconde boke of the publyke weale, wylleth, that the people of his citie, whiche he wolde constitute, shulde be no­ryshed with barly brede & cakes of wheat, and that the residue of their diete shuld be salte, olyues, chese and lykes, and more o­uer wortes, that the fieldes do bring forth, for their potage: but he addeth to, as hit were to make the dyner more delycate, fig­ges, beanes, myrtylberies, and beche mast, whiche they shulde roste on the coles, and drynk to it water moderately. So (saith he) they liuig restfully & in helth vnto extreme age, shall leaue the same maner of lyuynge vnto their successours.

¶ I knowe wel, some reders, for this diete appoynted by Socrates, wyll scorne hym, accountynge hym for a foole, who nat only by the aunswere of Apollo, but also by the consente of all excellent writers, that folo­wed hym, and the vniuersall renoume of all people, was approued to be the wyseste man of all Grecia.

¶ Certes I haue knowen men of worship [Page] in this realme, whiche, during their yo uth dranke for the more parte water.

¶ But here menne shal nat note me, that I write this, as who saythe, that noble men in this realme, shulde liue after Socrates di­ete, wherin hauynge respecte to this time and region, they mought perchaunce fynd occasion to reproue me. Surely lyke as the excesse of fare is to be iustely reproued, so in a noble man moch pinchyng and nygard shyp of meate and drynke is to be discom­mended. Nigarde­shyppe.

¶ I can nat cōmēde Aelius Pertinax, who beinge emperour of Rome, wold haue his gestes serued with a plante of lettuse, deui­ded in two partes: and excepte some thyng were sente hym, he wolde appoynte nyne pounde weight of fleshe vnto thre messes, and if any dyshe hapned to be broughte to hym, he caused it to be sette vppe vntyll the nexte daye.

¶ I am ashamed to remēbre, that he wold send to his frendes: two morsels of meate, a pece of podynge, or the carkaisse of a ca­pon. This was but myserye and wretched nygardshyp in a man of suche honour.

¶ In lyke maner, who wyll nat haue in ex­treme betestation, the insatiable glotōny of Uitelli', Fabius Gurges, Apicius, and dy­uers other, to which carmorantes, neither [Page 214] lande, water, ne ayre, mought be sufficient?

¶ Neyther the curiositie and wanto appe­tite of Heliogabalus, emperour of Rome, is of any wyse man alowed, who beinge at Rome, or ferre from the see, wold eate on­ly see fyshe: And whan he soiourned nighe to the see, he wolde touche no fysshe, but whiche was taken out af the ryuer of Cy­ber, or other places of equal or of more di­staunce. Also he wold haue dishes of meate made of Camelles heeles, the combes of cockes, newely cutte, the tungues of pe­cockes and nyghtyngales, partriches eg­ges, and other thynges harde for to come by: wherto be no englysshe names founden (as I suppose) apt to the true significatiō.

¶ More ouer, all though I dyspraysed ni­gardshyp and vicious scarcitie, yet in these nōbre of dyshes, whiche I haue commen­ded, I desyre not, to haue therin meates for any occasion to moche sumptuous. For in one or two dyshes may be emploied as mo­che money as in twenty, perchāce as good or better in eatynge. Wherof there remay­neth a noble exāple of Cleopatra, doughter to Ptholomee, late kyng of Aegipt, whom Cesar in his lyfe helde for his Concubyne. The same lady Antony (with whome Oc­tauian deuided the empire) loued also per­ramours, abandonynge his wyfe, whiche [Page] was suster to Octauian. And the warres betwene hym and Octauian cessynge by a littell space, he (durynge that tyme) lyued in moste prodigall riotte, and thynkyng all thynge in the see, the lande, and the ayre to be made for satisfienge his glotony, deuou­red al fleshe and fishe that moughte be any where founden. Cleopatra, disdayninge to be vainquished in any excesse by a Romayne, layde a wager with Antony, that she her selfe wold receiue in to her body at one sup per, the value of fyfty thousande poundes, whiche to Antony was thought in a maner to be impossible. The wager was put in to the handes of Numatius Plancus, a noble Romayne. The next day Cleopatra prepa­red for Antony a ryght sūptuous super, but therat Antony nothing meruailed, knowig the value thereof by his accustomed fare, than the quene smylynge, called for a gob­let, where into she dyd powre a quantitie of very tarte vineger, and taking a perle, whi­che hinge at one of her eares, quickely did let it falle into the vinegre, wherin beynge shortely dyssolued (as is the nature of the perle) she immedyately dranke it. And all thoughe she had vainquisshed Antony, ac­cordynge to her wager, the perle without any dought, beinge of the value of .l. M. li. yet hadde she lykewyse dronken an other [Page 215] perle of lyke value, whiche was hangynge at her other eare, had not Numatius Plan­cus, as an indifferent iudge, forthewith gi­uen iudgemente, that Antony was all redy vainquisshed.

¶ I haue rehersed this history, written by Macrobiꝰ satu. li. 9. Plin. li. 19. ca. 35. Macrobius, and also Plini, to the intente, that the vanite in sumptuous feastyng shuld be the better expressed.

¶ Androcides (a man of excellente wyse­dome) Plinius li. xiiii. natu­ral. hist. cap. 5. wrate vnto the great kynge Alexan­der an epistell, desiryng hym to refraine his intemperaunce, wherein he sayde, Noble prince, whan thou wylt drinke wyne, remē ­ber than, that thou drynkeste the bloude of the erthe. Sygnyfienge therby (as I sup­pose) the myghte and power of wyne, and also warnynge Alexander, of the thirste or appetite of blode, which wold ensue by his intemperate drynkynge. For Plini (that writeth this historie) saythe immedyately, If Alexander hadde obeied the preceptes of Androcides, he hadde neuer slayne his frendes in his dronkennes. for vndoubted­ly it maye be sayde with good ryghte, that there is nothynge to the strengthe of mans body more profitable than wyne, ne to vo­luptuouse appetites more pernicious, if me sure lacketh.

¶ Also it is very truely and proprely writ­ten [Page] of propretius the poete, in this sentence folowynge or lyke,

¶ By wyne beautie fadeth, and age is defaced wyne maketh forgotē, that late was embraced.

¶ More ouer, Salomō in his boke named Ecclesiastes, calleth that countrey happy, where of the gouernours doo eate in theyr tyme. And what shall we suppose is theyr tyme, but only that, whiche nature and the vniuersall consent of all people hath ordey­ned? And of what space is that tyme? But only that, which suffiseth to the abundaunte sustentation and not oppressiō of nature, ne letteth any parte of theyr necessary affaires about the publyke weale.

Of Sapience, and the definiti­on therof. Capi. XXII.

AL be it that some men, whiche haue hitherto radde this boke, wyll sub­pose, that those vertues, whereof I haue treated, be sufficient to make a gouer­nour vertuous and excellent: yet netheles for as moche as the effecte of myne enter­pryse in this warke is, to expresse, as farre furthe as god shal instruct my poore wytte, what thynges do belonge to the makynge of a perfeytte publyke weale, whiche well nygh may no more be without an excellent [Page 216] gouernour, than the vniuersal course of na­ture maye stande or be permanent without on chiefe dysposer and meuer, whiche is o­uer all supereminent in power, vnderstan­dynge, and goodnes. Wherfore bycause in gouernaunce be included Dysposition and Order, which can not be without soueraine knowelege, procedynge of wysedome, in a more elegant worde called SAPIENCE, Therfore I wyll nowe declare, as moche as my lytel with dothe comprehende of that part of Sapience, that of necessitie must be in euery gouernour, of a iuste or perfeytte publyke weale.

¶ The noble philosopher, and moste excellent Ci. tusc. q. lib. iiii. oratour CICERO, sayth in this wyse, SAPIENCE is the scyence of thynges dy­uine and humayne, whiche considereth the cause of euerye thynge, by reason wherof, that, whiche is dyuine, she foloweth, that, whiche is humayne, she estemeth ferre vn­der the goodnes of fortune.

¶ This definitiō agreeth wel with the gift of sapience, that god gaue to Salomō, king of Israel, who asked onely wysedome, to gouerne there with his realme. But god, whiche is the fountayne of sapience, graci­ously ponderynge the yonge princes peti­tion, whiche proceded of an apt inclination to vertue, with his own most bounteous li­beralitie, [Page] whiche he purposed to employe on hym, for the entiere loue that he had to his father: he therfore infused in hym plē ­tie of all wysedome and connynge, in thyn­ges as well naturall as supernaturall: as it appereth by the warkes of the same kynge Salomon, wherein be well nyghe as many wysedomes, as there be sentences. And in myne opynion, one thynge is specially to be noted.

¶ Kynge Dauid, father to Salomon, was a man of a rare and meruaylous strengthe, in so moche, as he hym selfe reporteth in the boke of kynges, beynge a chylde, and carienge to his bretherne theyr dyner, where they kepte theyr cattell, slewe fyrst a great beare, and after a lyon, whiche fyerce and hungry assaulted hym, all thoughe he were vnarmed: and whether he had any weapon or no, it is vncertayne, sens he maketh therof no menciō. Also of what prowes he was in armes, and howe valiaunt and good a ca­pitayne in battayle, it maye sufficiently ap­pere to them that wyll rede his noble actes and achieuaunces in the bokes before re­membred. wherin no good catholyke man wyll any thynge doubte, thoughe they be maruaylous. Yet not withstandynge al his strengthe and puyssaunce was not of suche effecte, that in the longe tyme of his raign, [Page 217] whiche was by the space of .xl. yeres, he coulde haue any tyme vacant from warres. But all waye had eyther continuall batayle with the Philisties, or elles was molested with his owne chyldren, and such as ought to haue bene his frendes. Contrary wyse, his sonne Salomon, of whome there is no notable mention made, that he shewed any commendable feate, concernynge martiall prowesse, sauinge the furniture of his gar­risons with innumerable men of warre, horses, and chariotes, which proueth not him to be valiaunte and stronge, but onely pru­dente: after a lyttell bykerynge with the Philisties, in the beginning of his raygne, continued in peace without any notable ba­tayle, or molestation of any persone: wher­fore he is named in scrypture, REX PA­CIFICVS, which is in englyshe, The pea­syble kynge. And onely by sapience so go­uerned his realme, that though it were but a lyttell realme in quantitie, yet it excelled incomparably all other in honour and ry­ches. In soo moche as syluer was at that tyme in the citie of Ierusalem, as stones in the strete. Wherfore it is to be noted, that Sapience in the gouernaunce of a publyke weale, is of more efficacie, than strengthe and puyssaunce.

¶ The auctoritie of Sapience is wel declared [Page] by Salomon in his prouerbes, sayinge. By me kynges do raygne, and makers of lawes dyscerne thynges that be iuste. By me prynces do gouerne, and men hauynge power and auctoritie, do determin Iustice. I loue all them that loue me, and who that watcheth to haue me, shall fynde me. With me is bothe ryches and honour, stately possessions and Iustice. Better is the fruyre, that commeth of me, than golde and stones that be precious.

¶ The same kynge saythe in his boke, cal­led Ecclesiastice: A kyng without sapience shal lose his people, and cities shal be inha­bited by the wytte of them that be prudent. whiche sentence was verifyed by the sōne and successour of the same kinge Salomon, called Roboaz, to whom the sayd boke was written, who neglectinge the wise and ver­tuous doctrine of his father, comtempned the sage counsayle of auncyente men, and imbraced the lyght perswasions of yonge men and flatterers, wherby he loste his honour, and brought his realme in perpetuall deuisyon.

¶ The empire of Rome (whose beginning, prosperytie, and desolation semeth to be a mirrour and exāple to al other realmes and countreys) declareth to them that exactely beholde it, of what force and value Sapiēce [Page 219] is to be estemed, beinge begonne with she­pardes, fleinge the wrathe and displeasure of their maisters.

¶ Romulus, duringe the time of his reigne Diodorus Scicuius libr. 1. (whiche was .xxxvii. yeres) nothynge dyd enterprise, without the auctorite & consent of the fathers, whom he hym selfe chase to be Senatours. And finally, as longe as the senate continued in the citie of Rome, and reteyned their auctoritie, whiche they re­ceyued of Romulus, and was increased by Tullus Hostilius, the thyrde kynge, they wonderfully prosperid and also augmentid theyr empyre ouer the more parte of the worlde. But sone after the emperour Cō ­stantine had abandoned the citie, and tran­slated the Senate from thens to Constan­tynople, and that finally the name and auc­toritie of the Senate, was by lytel and litel exhauste, by the negligence & foly of igno­rant emperours, not only that moste noble cite, heed and princesse of the world, & foū ­tayne of all vertue and honour, felle into most lamentable ruine, but also the maiestie of the empire decaied vtterly, so that vneth a lyttell shadowe therof nowe remayneth, whiche who so beholdeth and conferreth it with Rome, whan it flourished, according as it is lefte in remembrauce by noble wri­ters, he shall vneth kepe reares out of his [Page] eyen, beholdyng it now as a rotten shepe­cote in comparyson of that cytie noble and triumphaunt. O poore and myserable citie, what sondry tourmētes, excisions, subuer­tions, depopulations, and other euyll ad­uentures hath hapned vnto the, sens thou were byrefte of that noble courte of Sa­pience? whose auctoritie if it had alway cō tinued, beinge also confyrmed in the fayth and trewe religion of Christe, god beinge with the pleased, thou couldest neuer haue bene thus desolate vnto the fynall consum­mation and ende of the worlde.

¶ I dout nat, but it is wel knowen to euery Catholyke man, that hathe the lyberall vse of reason, that all maner of vnderstanding and knowlege, wher of procedeth perfecte operation, do take their origynalle of that hygh sapience, whiche is the operatrice of all thynges. And therfore Salomō or Phi lo, or who so made the boke callid Sapiētia, made his prayer to god in this wise,

¶ Gyue to me, good lorde, Sapience, that sytteth by thy throne. And in the later ende of the prayer he sayth, Sende her from the sete of thy holynes, that she maye be with me, & labour with me, and that I may know what may be accepted with the.

¶ Orpheus (one of the eldeste poctes of Musis what they do signifie. Grece) affirmeth in his hymnes, that the [Page 220] Musis were gotē betwene Iupiter & Me­morie. whyche sayinge well vnderstande, and exactly tried, shal appere manifestly to agree with the sayinge of the wyse manne, conteyned in the said prayer late rehersed.

¶ Eustathius, the exposytour of Homere, sayth, Musa is the knowlege of the soule, and is a thynge diuine, as the sowle is.

¶ But fynally, as by olde autors a mā may aggregate a definition, that which is callid in greke and latyne Musa, is that parte of the sowle, that induceth and moueth a man to serche for knowlege, in the whiche mo­tion is a secrete and inexplicable delectati­on. All be it, bicause knowlege is in sondry wise distributed, and the nombre of nyne a­monge olde authors was alway rehersed, where they spake of a multitude, as it shall appere to them that rede Homer & Uir gil, Therfore there were diuised to be nine mu ses, which also for the resemblance of their disposition, were fayned by the poctes to be nyne virgins, that first inuented all libe­ral sciences: but the other opynion appro­chith more nere vnto the trouth, and agre­eth better vnto my purpose.

¶ More ouer, Iupiter was alway takē of the poetes & philosophers for the supreme god, whyche was the gyuer of lyfe, and creatour of all thynges, as appereth in all [Page] their warkes, wherfore somtyme they call hym omnipotēt, somtime the fader of god­dis & of men, soo that vnder that name they knowleged to be a very god, thoughe they honored hym nat as one only god, as they ought to haue done.

¶ But nowe Orpheus sayenge, that the Muses proceded of Iupiter and memory, may be in this wyse interpreted, That god almyghty infuded Sapience into the Me­mory of man: for to the acquirynge of sci­ence belongeth vnderstandyng and memo­rye, which as a treasory, hath power to re­tayne, and also to erogate and dystribute, whan oportunitie happeneth. And for the excellency of this thyng, some noted to be in mans sowle a dyuine substaunce. As Py­thagoras, or somme of his scolers, wry­tynge his sentence, sayth in this wise, spea­kynge to man,

¶ Whyche sentence of Pythagoras, is nat reiected neither of Plato, whiche appro­ched nexte vnto the catholyke writers, nor of diuines, which interprete holy scripture, [Page 221] takynge the sowle for the image and simi­litude of god.

¶ More ouer, Plato affirmeth, that there Sciēce frō whens hit procedeth. plato in Time us. is sette in the soule of man, cōmyng in to the worlde, certayn spices, or as it were sedes of thinges, and rules of artes or sciences. Wherfore Socrates, in the boke of science, resembleth hym selfe to a midwife, sayinge, plato in Theage. In teachynge yonge men, he dyd put into them no science, but rather brought for the that, whyche all redy was in them, lyke as the mydwyfe brought nat in the childe, but beynge conceyued, dyd helpe to brynge it forthe. And lyke as in houndes is a power or disposition to hunt, In horses and grey­houndes an aptitude to renne swyftly, so in the sowles of men is ingenerate a leme of science, whyche with the mixture of a ter­restryall substaunce is obfuscate, or made darke. But where there is a perfite master prepared in tyme, the bryghtnes of the sci­ence appereth polyte and clere, like as the power and aptitude of the beastes before rehersed, appered nat to the vttermost, ex­cepte it be by Exercyse prouoked, and that slouthe and dulnesse, beinge plucked from theym by Industrie, be induced vnto the contynualle acte: whyche as Plato affyr­methe, is proued also in the mayster and the dysciple.

[Page] ¶ Semblablye the foresay de Socrates, in Platos boke of sapiēce, saith to one The­ages, Neuer man lerned of me any thynge, all though by my company, he became wy­ser, I onely exhortynge, and the good spi­ryte inspirynge.

¶ Whiche wonderfull sentence, as me see­meth, may wel accorde with our catholike faythe, and be receyued into the commen­taryes of the moste perfecte dyuines. For as well that sentence, as al other before re­hersed, doo comprobate with holy Scrip­ture, that god is the fountain of Sapience, lyke as he is the souerayne begynnyng of all generation.

¶ Also it was wonderfully well expressed, of whom Sapiēce is ingendred, by a poete Sapience frō whens named Affranius, whose verses were sette ouer the porche of the Temple, where the Senate of Rome moste commonly assem­bled. Whiche verses were in this maner,

Vsus me genuit, mater peperit Memoria. Sophiam me Graii vocant, vos Sopientiam. Whyche in Englyshe maye be in this wyse translated.

¶ By vse or experience, in these versis ex­pressed, the poete intēded, as wel those ac­tes, which we our selfe daily do practise, as [Page 222] also them, whiche beinge done by other in tyme passed, for the fruite or vtilitie, why­che thereof succeded, were allowed and also proued to be necessary. And the cause, why the poete conioyneth Experience and Memorye togyther (as it were in a lefulle matrimonye, Experience by gettynge, and Memorie alwaye producynge that incom­parable fruite, called Sapience) is, for that Memorie in her operation proprelye suc­cedeth Experience, for that, whych is pre­sently do one, we perceyue, that whiche is to come, we coniecte or dyuyne: but that, whiche is passed, onely we haue in our me­morye. For as Aristotel declareth wonder Aristote­les de me­moria et reminiscētis lib. ii. fully in an example, In the princypall sense of Manne there is conceyued an image or fygure of a thynge, whyche by the same sense is perceyued, as longe as it is retay­ned intiere or hole, and (as I mought say) consolydate, pure, manyfeste, or playne, and withoute blemmysshe, in suche wyse, that in euerye parte of it, the mynde is ste­red or occupyedde, and also by the same mynde, hit maye be throughely percey­ued and knowen, nat as an ymage in it selfe but as representynge an nother thynge.

This is proprelye Memorie. But yf the hoole ymage or fygure be nat retayned in the mynde, but parte therof onely remay­neth, [Page] parte is put out, eyther by the length of tyme, or by some other myshappe or in­iurie, so that it can neyther bryng the mynd eftsones vnto it, nor it can be called agayne of the mynde, as often as by that portion, whyche styll remayneth, and hath aboden alway intiere and cleane, the residewe that was therto knytte and adioyned, and late semed for the tyme deed or bireft from the mynde, is reuiued and (as it were) retour­ned home agein, it is than had for redemed or restored, and is proprely called REMEM BRAVNCE.

¶ This is the exposition of the noble Philosopher, which I haue writen, principally to thentent to ornate our langage, with v­synge wordes in their propre signification. Wherof, what commoditie maye ensue, all wyse men wyll (I doubte nat) consider.

¶ what is the true signification of vn­derstandynge. Cap. XXIII.

FOr as moche as in the begynnynge of the fyrste boke of this warke, I ende­uoured my selfe to proue, that by the order of mannes creation, preeminence in degree shulde be amonge men, accordynge as they do excell in the pure influēce of vn­derstandynge, whiche can nat be denyed to [Page 223] be the pryncipall parte of the sowle: some reder perchaunce, meued with dysdayne, wyl for that one assertiō, immediatly reiect this warke, sayinge, that I am of a corrupt or folyshe oppinion, supposynge that I do intende by the sayde wordes, that no man shulde gouerne or be in auctoritie, but one­ly he whiche surmounteth all other in doc­tryne, whiche in his hastye malyce he de­meth, that I only do meane, where I speke of vnderstandynge.

¶ I suppose all men do knowe, that man is made of body and soule, and that the soule in preeminence excelleth the body, as mo­che as the mayster or owner excelleth the house, or the artificer excelleth his instru­mentes, or the kynge his subiectes. And therfore Saluste in the conspiracie of Ca­thalyne saythe, We vse specially the rule of the soule, and seruice of the body: the one we participate with goddis, the other with beastes. And Tulli sayth, Mannes soule, Ci. tus [...]. [...]. lib. 1. being decerpt or taken of the portion of di­uinitie called MENS, maye be compared with none other thynge (if a man moughte lefully speke it) but with god hym selfe.

¶ Also the noble dyuine CHRISOSTO­MVS, Chrisosto­de repara­tione lapsi. sayth, The body was made for the soule, and not the soule for the body. Howe it is to be further knowen, that the soule is [Page] of thre partes: the one, wherein is the po­wer or efficacie of growynge, whiche is al­so in herbes and trees, as well as in man, & that parte is called vegetatyfe. An other part, wherin man doth participate with all other thinges liuing, which is called sensy­tife, by reason that ther of the sensis do pro­cede, which be dystributed into dyuers in­strumentall partes of the body, as syght in­to the eien, heryng to the eares, smellynge to the nose, tastynge to the mought, felyng to euery part of the body, wherin is blode, without the whiche vndoubtedly maye be no felynge. The thyrde part of the soule is named the parte intellectuall or of vnder­standynge, whiche is of all the other moste noble, as wherby man is most like vnto god and is preferred before al other creatures. For where other beastes by their senses do feele, what thynge do profytte theym, and what doth annoy them: onely man vnder­standeth, wherof the sayde contrary dispo­sitions do come, and by what meanes they do eyther helpe or annoy: also he percey­ueth the causes of the same thyng, and kno­weth howe to resyst, where and whan'nede dothe requyre: and with reason and crafte howe to gyue remedye: and also with la­bour and industry, to prouyde that thynge, whiche is holsome or profitable. This most [Page 224] pure parte of the soule, and (as Aristotelle Arist. li. 1. de anima. saythe) deuine, impassyble, and incorrup­tibic, is named in latine INTELLECTVS, whervnto I can finde no propre englysshe, but Understanding. For intelligēce, which cōmeth of Intelligentia, is the perceiuing of that, which is fyrst conceyued by vnderstā ­dyng, called Intellectus. Also intelligence is now vsed for an elegant word where there is mutuall treaties or appointmentes, ey­ther by letters or message, specially concerning warres, or like other gret affaires be­twene princis or noble mē. wherfore I wyl vse this word vnderstanidng, for Intellectus, vntyll somme other more propre englysshe worde may be founden and broughte in cu­stome. But to perceiue more playnly, what thyng it is, that I call vnderstandynge, It is the principall parte of the soule, which is occupied about the beginninge or originall causes of thynges that maye fall in to mans knowlege: and his office is, before that any thyng is attempted, to thinke, considre, and prepence, and after often tossynge it vp and downe in the mynde, to exercyse that po­wer: the propretie wherof is to espie, seke for, enserche, and fynde out: which vertue is referred to wyt, which is as it were the instrument of vnderstandynge.

¶ Moreouer after the thinges be inuēted, [Page] coniected, perceyued, and by longe tyme and often consydered, and that the mynde dysposeth her selfe to executiō or actual o­peration: thanne the vertue, named PRV­DENCE, fyrst purteth her selfe forwardes, and thā appereth her industry and labour, for as moche as she teacheth, warneth, ex­horteth, ordereth, and profiteth, lyke to a wyse capitayne, that setteth his host in ar­raye. And therfore it is to be remembred, that the office or duetie of vnderstandynge, precedeth the interprise of actes, and is in the begynnynge of thynges. I call that be­gynnynge, wherin before any matter taken an hande, the mynde and thoughte is occu­pied, and that a man sercheth and douteth, whether it be to be entreprised, & by what way, and in what tyme it is to be executed. Who by this lytell introduction knowynge, what vnderstandynge doth signifie, wyl not suppose, that he, whiche therin doth excel, is not with honour to be aduaunced? Than it foloweth not by this argumente, that for as moche as he that excellethe other in vn­derstandyng, shuld be preferred in honour, therfore no man shulde be preferred to ho­nour, but onely they that excel other in ler­nynge. No man hauynge naturall reason, thoughe he neuer redde logyke, wyliudge this to be a good argument, considerynge [Page 225] that vnderstandynge, called in latine Intel­lectus and Mens, is by it selfe sufficient, and is not of any necessite annexed to doctrine, but doctrine procedeth of vnderstandynge. But if doctrine be alwaye attendynge vpon vnderstandynge, as the daughter vpon the mother, vndoubtedly than vnderstandyng must be the more perfect, and of a more ef­ficacie, beinge increased by the inuentions and experiences of many other declared by doctrine, no one man without inspyration hauinge knowlege of all thyng. I call DO­CTRINE Arist. ethi. li. 5. poste­riorū. i. politice. li. 1. dyscipline intellectife, or lerning, whiche is eyther in writinge or by reporte of thynges before knowen, whiche proce­dith from one man to an other. That which I haue sayde, is in this wyse confyrmed by Salomon, saying, A man that is wise, by he­ryng Prouer. [...]. shall become wyser, And he that hath vnderstandynge, shall be a gouernour. Se­neca sayth, We instructe our chyldren in li­berall sciences, not bycause those scyences may gyue any vertue, but bycause they pre­pare the mynde, and make it apt to receiue vertue. Whiche beinge considered, no man wyll deny, but that they be necessary, to e­euery man, that coueyteth very nobylitie. whiche, as I haue often tymes sayde, is in the hauynge and vse of vertue. And verely in whom doctrine hath ben founden, ioynid [Page] with vertue, there vertue hath semed excel lent, and as I mought saye triumphant.

¶ Scipio, cōmon of the moste noble house of the Romaynes, in hyghe lernynge and knowlege of the nature of thinges wonder full studyous, hauynge all waye with hym the mooste excellente Philosophers and poetes that were in his time, was an exam­ple and myrrour of martiall prowesse, con­tynence, deuotion, liberalitie, and of all o­ther vertues.

¶ Cato, called vticensis, named the chiefe pilar of the publike weale of the Romains, was so moche inflamed in the desire of ler­nyng, that (as Suetonius writeth) he coude not tēpre him selfe in redinge greke bokes whiles the Senate was syttynge.

¶ Howe moch it profited to the noble Au­gustus, whiche vntyll the deathe of his vn­cle Iulius Cesar, dylygentely applyed his study in Athenes, it wel appered after that the Ciuile warres were all finisshed: whan he refourmynge the hole astate of the pub­lyke weale, stablyshed the Senate, and ta­kyng vnto hym ten honorable personages, dayely in his owne persone consulted with them of matters, to be reported twyse in a monethe to the Senate, in suche wyse ay­dynge and helpynge forthe that moste no­ble court with his incomparable study and [Page 226] dylygence.

¶ The emperour Titus, sonne to Uaspa­sian, for his lernynge and vertue was na­med the delycate of the worlde.

¶ Marcus Antoninus, the ēperour, was in euery kynde of lerning so excellent, that he was therefore openly named the philo­sopher, not in reproche (as men do nowe a days in despite cal them philosophers and poetes, whom they perceyue studyous in sondry good disciplines) but to the augmē tatiō of his honour. For being of his owne nature aptly inclined to embrace vertue, he addynge to abundance of lerning, became therby a wonderfull and perfecte prynce, beynge neither of study withdrawen from affayres of the publyke weale, nor by any busynes vtterly plucked from philosophy, and other noble doctrines. By the whiche mutuall coniunction and iuste temperaunce of those two studyes, he attayned to suche a fourme in all his gouernaunce, that he was named and taken for father of the se­nate, of the people, and vnynersally of all the hole empyre.

¶ Moreouer, his dedes and wordes were of all men had in so hyghe estimation and reuerence, that bothe the Senate and peo ple toke of him lawes and rules of their li­uinge. And in his gouernance and propre [Page] lyuinge, as well at home in his house, as in his ciuile busines, he was to hym selfe the onely lawe and example. And as he was a­boue other hyghest in auctoritie, so by the vniuersall oppinion of al men he was iuged to be of all other men than lyuinge the best and also the wyseste.

Of Experience whiche haue preceded our tyme, with a defence of Histories. Ca. XXIIII.

EXPERIENCE, wherof commeth wyse dome, is in two maner of wyse: The one is actes commytted or done by o­ther men, wherof profytte or damage suc­cedynge, we maye (in knowynge or behol­dinge it) be therby instructed to apprehēde Titus Li­uius in ꝓ­emio. li. 1. the thyng, which to the publyke weale, or to our owne persones, maye be commodi­ous: and to exchue that thynge, which ey­ther in the begynnynge, or in the conclusy­on appereth noysome and vycyous. The knowlege of this Experience is called Ex­ample, & is expressed by hystory, whiche of Tulli is called the lyfe of memory. And soo Hystoryes wherfore they be cō mendable. it agreeth wel with the versis of Affranius, by melate declared. And therfore to suche persones, as do contempne auncient histo­ries, reputynge them among leasynges and [Page 227] fātasies (these be their wordes of reproch) it maye be sayde, that they frustrate Expe­rience: whiche (as the sayde Tulli saythe) is the lyght of vertue, whiche they wolde be sene so moche to fauour, all though they do seldome embrace it. And that shall they perceyue many festely, if they wyll a lyttell whyle laye a parte theyr accustomed obsti­nacie, and suffre to be distilled into their ea­res two or thre dropes of the swete oyle of remembraunce.

¶ Let them reuolue in theyr myndes ge­nerally, that there is no doctryne, be it ey­ther diuyne or humayne, that is not eyther all expressed in history, or at the leste mixte with hystorie. But to thentente that there shall be lefte none ignoraunce, wherby they mought be detained in theyr errour, I wyl nowe declare vnto them what it is, that is called an hystorye, and what it compre­hendeth.

¶ Fyrste it is to be noted, that it is a greke name, and commeth of a worde or verbe in Myst or ye­what it si gnifieth. Greeke Historeo, whiche dothe signifie, to knowe, to se, to enserche, to enquere, to here, to lerne, to tell, or expounde vnto o­ther. And than muste historie, which com­meth therof, be wonderful profitable, whi­che leaueth nothynge hyd from mans kno­ledge, that vnto hym maye be eyther plea­saunte [Page] or necessary. For it not onely repor­teth the gestes or actes of pryncis or capi­taynes, theyr counsaylles and attempta­tes, entreprises, affaires, maners in liuing good and bad, descryptions of regions and cities with theyr inhabitantes: but also hit bryngeth to our knowlege, the fourmes of sondry publyke weales, with theyr augmē ­tations and decayes, and occasyon therof. More ouer preceptes, exhortations, coun­sayles, and good perswasyons, comprehē ­ded in quicke sentences and eloquente ora­tions. Fynally soo large is the compase of that, whiche is named historie, that it com­prehendeth all thynge that is necessarye to be put in memory. In soo moche, as Ary­stotelle, where he declareth the partes of mannes body, with theyr descryption and offices, and also the sondry formes and dis­posytions of all beastes, foules, and fishes, with theyr generation, nameth his boke an historye. Semblably Theophrast his scho­ler, a noble philosopher, descryuynge all herbes and trees, whereof he mought haue the trewe knowledge, intytleth his boke, The hystorye of plantes. And finally Pli­ni the elder, calleth his moost excellent and wonderfull warke, the historye of nature: in the whiche boke he nothynge omytteth, that in the bosome of Nature is conteyned, [Page 228] and maye be by mannes wytte comprehen­ded, and is worthye to be hadde in remen­braunce. Whiche auctorities of these three noble and excellent lerned men, approueth the sygnification of HISTORIE, to agree wel with the exposition of the verbe Histo­reo, wherof it commeth.

¶ Nowe let vs se what booke of holy scri­pture, I meane the olde testament and the newe, maye be sayde, to haue no part of hi­storie. The fiue bokes of Moises, the boke of Iuges, the foure bokes of kinges, Iob, Hester, Iudeth, Ruth, Thobias, And also the historie of Machaebes (whiche frome the other is seperate) I suppose no manne wyll denye, but that they be all historicall: or (as I mought say) intier histories. Also Esdras, Nemias, Ezechiell, and Daniel, all though they were prophetes: yet be their warkes compacte in fourme of narrations, whiche by oratours be called enunciatyue, and onely perteyneth to hystories, wherin is expressed a thynge done, and personnes named. All the other prophetes, thoughe they speake of the tyme future or to come, whiche is out of the description of an historie, yet eyther in rebukinge the synnes and enormities passed, or bewayling the destru­ction of their countrey, or captiuitie of the people, and such like calamitie or miserable [Page] astate, also in meuynge or perswadynge the people, they do recite some circumstaunce of a narration.

¶ But now be we commen to the newe te­stamēt, and principally the bokes of the E­uangelistes, vulgarely called the gospelles, whiche be one contexte of an historie: doo not they conteyne the temporall lyfe of our sauiour Chryste, kyng of kynges, and lorde of the worlde, vntyll his glorious assenti­on? And what thynge lacketh therin, that dothe perteine to a perfect historie? There lacketh not in thynges, ordre and dysposi­tion, in the contexte or narration, verytye, in the sentences grauytye, vtylytie in the counsaylles, in the perswasyons doctryne, in exposytions or declaratiōs facylitie. The bokes of actes of apostelles, what thynge is it elles but a playne hystorie? The epi­stles of sayncte Paule, saincte Peter, sainct Iohn̄, sayncte Iames, and Iudas, the a­postles, do conteyne counsayles and aduertisementes in the fourme of orations, recy­tynge diuers places, as wel out of the olde testament, as out of the gospels, as it were an abbreuiate, called of the grekes and la­tines Epitoma. This is well knowen to be true, of them that haue had any leasure to rede holy scripture: who remembring them selfes by this my lytel induction, wyl leaue [Page 229] to neglecte historye, or contemne it with so generalle a dysprayse as they haue benne ac customed.

¶ But yet some wyll impugne them with a more particuler obiection, sayinge, The hi­stories of the Grekes and Romayns be no­thynge but lyes, and faynynge of poetes: some suche persons there be, betwene whō and good auctours haue euer ben perpetu­al hostilitie. Fyrste howe doo they knowe, that all the hystoryes of Greekes and Ro­maynes be leasynges, sens they fynde not, that any scripture autentyke, made aboute that tyme that those histories were writen, do reproue or cōtemne them? But the most catholike and renoumed doctours of Chri­stis religiō, in the corroboratiō of their ar­gumentes and sentēces, do allege the same histories, and vouche (as I mought say) to theyr aide the autoritie of the writars. And yet som of those Rabines (in goddis name) whiche in comparison of the sayd noble do­ctours, be as who saythe petites, and vn­neth lettred: wyl presume, with theyr owne sely wittes, to dysproue that, whiche bothe by auncientie of time, and consent of blessed and noble doctours, is allowed, & by theyr warkes honoured.

¶ If they wyl coniect histories to be lyes, bycause they some tyme make reporte of [Page] thynges sene, and actes doone, whiche do seme to the reders incredyble: by the same reason maye they not onely condempne all holy scripture, whiche conteyneth thyn­ges more wonderful, thanne any hystorian writeth, but also exclude credulitie vtterly from the company of man? For howe many thynges be daily sene, whiche being reported vnto hym that neuer lawe them, shulde seme impossible?

¶ And if they wyl allege, that al thyng cō ­teined in holy scripture, is approbat by the hole consent of all the clergie of Chrysten­dome, at diuers generall counsayles assem­bled: Certes the same counsailes neuer disproued or reiected the histories of grekes or Romaynes, but the moste catholike and excellent lerned men of those congregati­ons, embraced theyr examples, and sowing them in their warkes, made of them to the churche of Christe, a necessarye ornament. Admytte, that some histories be interlaced with leasynges: why shulde we therfor ne­glecte them? sens the affaires there repor­ted, nothynge concerneth vs, we beynge therof no parteners, ne therby onely, may receyue any damage. But if by redyng the sage counsayle of Nestor, the subtylle per­suasions of Ulisses, the compendious gra­uitie of Menelaus, the imperyall maiestie [Page 230] of Agamemnon, the prowesse of Achilles, and valiant courage of Hector, we may ap­prehende any thynge, wherby our wyttes maye be amended, and our personages be more apte to serue our publyke weale and our prynce: what forceth it vs, though Ho­mere write leasynges?

¶ I suppose no man thynketh, that Esope wrate gospels: yet who doubteth, but that in his fables, the foxe, the hare, & the wolf, though they neuer spake, do teache many good wysedomes? whiche being well con­sydered, men (if they haue not auowed to repugne agaynst reason) shall confesse with Quintilian, that fewe, and vneth one maye be founde of auncient writars, whiche shall not bringe to the redars some thyng cōmo­dious: And specially they that do write ma­ters historicall, the lesson wherof is as it were the myrrour of mans life, expressinge actually, and (as it were at the eyen) the beautie of vertue, and the deformytie and lothelynes of vice. Wherfore Lactantius Lactātius lib. 3. saythe, Thou muste nedes peryshe, if thou knowe not, what is to thy lyfe profytable, that thou maist seke for it: and what is daū ­gerous, that thou maist flee and escheue it. Whiche I dare affirme maye come sonest to passe by the redyng of histories, and retei­nynge them in continuall remembraunce.

The Experience or practyse necessary in the person of a gouernour of a pub­lyke weale. Cap. xxv.

THe other experiēce, whiche is in our propre persones, and is of some men called practise, is no smal moment or efficacie in the acquiringe of Sapience: in so moche that it semeth, that no operation or affaire may be perfecte, nor no science or arte complete, except experience be there vnto added, wherby knowlege is ratyfied, and (as I mought saye) consolidate.

¶ It is written, that the gret kynge Alex­ander, on a tyme beinge (as it hapned) vn­occupied, came to the shop of Apelles, the excellent paynter, and standynge by hym, whiles he paynted, raisoned with him of li­nes, adumbrations, proportions, and other like thinges perteining to imagery, whiche the paynter a lytel whyles sufferyng, at the last said to the kynge, with countenance all smylynge, Seest thou noble prynce, howe the boye, that gryndeth my colours, dothe laughe the to scorne? whiche wordes the kynge toke in good parte, and helde hym therwith iustely corrected, consideringe by his owne office in martiall affaires, that he than had in hande, howe great a portion of knowlege faileth, where lacketh experiēce. [Page 231] And therin gouernours shall nat disdayne to be resembled vnto phisitions, consyde­rynge their offyces in curynge and preser­uynge, be moste lyke of any other.

¶ That parte of Phisycke, called Ratio­nall, whereby is declared the faculties or powers of the body, the causes, acciden­tes, and tokens of syckenesses, can nat al­ways be sure, without some experience in the temperature or distemperature of the regions, in the disposition of the pacyente, in diete, concoction, quyetnesse, exercyse, and slepe. And Galene, prince of phisitiōs, exhorteth them, to knowe exactely the ac­customed diete of their patientes, whyche can nat happen without moche resorte into their companies, seryousely notynge their vsage in dyete. Semblably the vnyuersalle state of a countray or citie, may be well likened to the body of man. Wherfore the go­uernours, in the stede of phisitions, atten­dynge on their cure, oughte to knowe the causes of the decay of theyr publike weale, whyche is the helthe of theyr countrey or cytie, and than with expedition to procede to the mooste spedy and sure remedy. But certes the very cause of decay, ne the true meane to cure it, may neuer be sufficientely knowen of gouernours, except they themselues wylle personally resorte and pervse [Page] all partes of the countreyes, vnder theyr gouernaunce, and inserche diligentely, as well what be the customes and maners of people good and badde, as also the cōmo­dities and discommodities: howe the one may be preserued, the other suppressed, or at the leaste wayes amended.

¶ ALSO amonge them that haue ministra­tion or execucyon of Iustyce (whyche I maye lyken vnto the membres) to taste and fele, howe euery of them do practise their offyces, that is to saye, whether they do it febly or vnprofytably, and whether it hap­pen by neglygence, discourage, corruptiō, or affection.

¶ BVT NOVVE may the reder with good reason demaunde of me, by what maner ex­periēce, the govnors may come to the true knowlege herof. That shal I now declare.

¶ Fyrst the gouernours them selfes, ador­ned withvertue, being in suche wise an ex­ample of lyuyng to their inferiors, and ma­kyng the people iudges of them and theyr domesticall seruātes and adherentes, shuld sondry tymes duringe their gouernaunce, eyther purposely, or by waye of solace, re­payre into dyuers partes of their iurisdi­ction or prouince, and makyng their abode, shal partly thē selfes attentifely here, what is cōmonly or priuately spoken, concerning [Page 232] the astate of the countrey or persons, part­ly shall cause theyr seruauntes or frendes, of whose honestie and trouthe they haue good assuraunce, to resorte, in disportynge them selues in dyuers townes & vyllages, and as they happen to be in company with the inhabytauntes, priuyly and with some maner of circumstance, enquire, what men of hauour dwelle nygh vnto them, what is the forme of their lyuyng, of what estima­tion they be in iustyce, liberalitie, diligence in executyng the lawes, and other sembla­ble vertues. Contrary wyse, whether they be oppressours, couetous men, mayntenors of offendours, remisse or negligent, if they be offycers. And what the examyners doo here the greater nombre of people report, that they intierly and truely denounce it to the sayde gouernour: by the whiche inty­mation, and their owne prudent endeuour, they shall haue infallible knowlege, who a­monge the inhabytauntes be men towarde the publike weale best disposed. Them shal they call for, and mooste courtaisely enter­tayne, and (as it were) louyngely embrace, with thankes for their good wyl and ende­uour towarde the publike weale, commen­ding them opēly for their vertue & diligēce: offryng to them their assistēce in their sem­blable doinges, and also their furtherance [Page] towarde the due recompence of theyr tra­uayles.

¶ On the contrary part, whan they se any of them, who amonge their inferiours, ob­serue nat Iustyce, and lyke wyse offycers, whyche be remisse or fauourable to com­mon offendours and brekers of lawes, and negligent in the execution of their auctori­ties, to them shall they gyue condigne re­prehentions, manifesting their defautes in omyttynge their dueties, and in gyuynge­uyl example to theyr cōpanyons, also boldnes to transgresse and to contemne the la­wes. Declaryng also, that they mynystring such occasion, deser ue nat only a sharpe rebuke, but also ryght greuous punishement.

¶ And if he, that thus admonyssheth, be a souerayne gouernour or prince, and shortly herevpon doth ratifye his wordes, by ex­pellynge somme of theym, whyche I nowe rehersed, from theyr offyces, or otherwise sharpely correctynge them, and contrary wise aduaunsynge higher some good man, and whom he hath proued to be diligent in the execution of Iustyce, vndoubtedly he shall inflame the appetite and zele of good mynysters, and also suscytate or raise the courage of all men, inclyned to vertue, so, that there shall neuer lacke men apte and propyie to be set in auctoritie. Where the [Page 233] merites of menne be hydde and vnknowen to the soueravgne gouernour, and the ne­glygent ministers or inferiour gouernours haue not onely equalle thanke or rewarde, but perchance moch more than they, whi­che be diligent, or wolde be, if they mought haue assistence, there vndoubtedly is gre­uous discourage, and peryll of conscience: for as moche as they omytte oftentymes theyr dueties and offyces, reputyng it gret foly and madnes, to acquyre by the execu­tynge of Iustyce, nat onely an opinyon of tyrannye amonge the people, and conse­quently hatred, but also malignitie amonge his equalles and superiours, with a note of ambition.

¶ This reuolued and considered by a cir­cumspecte gouernour, lorde GOD, howe shortely, and with howe lyttell diffycultie, shall he dispose the publycke weale, that is greued, to receyue medycyne, wherby hit shoulde be soone healed and reduced to his perfection.

¶ Of Detraction, and the ymage ther­of made by the peynter Ap­pelles. Cap. XXVI.

THERE IS MOCHE conuersaunt a­monge men in authoritie a vyce very vgly and monstruous, who vnder the [Page] pleasant habyte of frendshyp & good coun­sayle, with a breathe pestilenciall infecteth the wyttes of them that nothynge mystru­steth. This monster is called in englysshe DETRACTION, in latin Calumnia, whose propretie I wyll nowe declare.

¶ If a man, be determined to equitie, ha­uynge the eyen and eares of his mynde, set onely on the trouth, and the publike weale of his countreye, wyll haue no regarde to any requeste or desyre, but procedeth dire­ctely in the admynistration of iustyce, ey­ther he, whiche by Iustyce is offended, or some his fautours, abbettours, or adherē ­tes, if he hym selfe, or any of them be in ser­uyce or famyliaritie with hym that is in au­ctoritie, as soone as by any occasyon, men­tion happeneth to be made of hym, who hath executed Iustyce exactely, forthwith they imagine some vyce or defaut, be it ne­uer so lyttell, wherby they maye mynysshe his credence, & craftily omittyng to speake any thynge of his rygour in Iustice, wylle note and touche somme thynge of his ma­ners, wherin shall eyther seme to be lyght­nes, or lacke of grauitie, or to moch sower­nes or lacke of Ciuilytie: or that he is nat beneuolent to hym in auctoritie, or that he is nat sufficient to receyue any dygnitie, or to dispatche matters of weighty importāce [Page 234] or that he is superfluous in wordes, or els to scarse. Also if he lyue temperately, and delyteth moche in study, they embrayd him with nygardshyp, or in derislon, calle hym a clerke or a poete, vnmete for any other purpose. And this do they couertely and with a more grauitie, than any other thyng that they enterprise.

¶ This euyll reporte, called Detraction, The image of detrac­tion. was wonderfully wel expressed in figures, by the mooste noble peynter APELLES. After he was dyscharged of the cryme, wherof he was falsely accused to Ptholo­mee, kyng of Aegypt, hauyng for his amē ­des of the said kyng. xii. M. poundes ster­lynge, and his accuser to his bondman per­petually, the table, wherin detraction was expressed, he peynted in this forme.

¶ At the ryght hande was made syttyng a man, hauynge longe cares, puttynge forth his hande to DETRACTION, who farre of came towardes hym. Aboute this man stoode two womenne, that is to saye, Ig­norance, and Suspicion. On the other side came Detraction, a woman aboue measure well trymmed, all chaufed and angrye, ha­uynge her aspecte or loke lyke to the fyre, in shewynge a maner of rage or furye. In hyr lefte hande, she helde a brennynge torche or bronde, and with her other hand [Page] she drewe by the heare of his heed, a yong man, who helde vppe his handes towarde heuen, callynge god and the saynctes for wytnesse: with her came a man pale, and e­uyll fauoured, beholdynge the yonge man intentifely, like vnto one that had ben with longe sicknes consumed, whom ye mought lyghtely coniecte, to be enuye. Also there folowed two other women, that trymmed and apparayled Detraction, the one was Treason, the other Fraude. After folowid a woman, in a mournyng weede, blacke and ragged, and she was called Repentaunce, who tournynge her backe, weepynge and soore ashamed, behelde Ueritie, who than approched.

¶ In this wyse Apelles described Detra­ction, by whome he hym selfe was in pe­ryll. Whyche in myne opynion is a ryghte necessary matter to be in tables or hangyn­ges, set in euery mans house, that is in au­ctorytie, consyderynge what damage and losse, hath ensued, and may hereafter en­sue, by this horrible pestilence, false Detra­ction, to the auoydynge, wherof Luciane, who writeth of this picture, gyueth a no­table counsayle, sayenge,

¶ A wyse man, whan he douteth of the ho­nestie and vertue of the persone accused, shulde kepe close his eares, and nat open [Page 235] them hastely to them, whiche be with this sicknesse infected, and put reason for a dyli­gent porter and watche, whiche oughte to examyne and lette in the reportes that be good, and exclude and prohibite them that be contrary. For it is a thyng to laughe at, and verye vnsyttynge, to ordeyne for thy house a keper or porter: and to leaue thine eares and mynde to all menne wyde open. Wherfore, whan any persone commeth to vs, to tel vs any reporte or complaint: First it shall behoue vs throughly and euenly to considre the thynge, not hauinge respecte to the eares of hym that reporteth, or to his fourme of lyuynge, or wysedome in spekynge. For the more vehement the repor­ter is in perswadynge, the more dylygente and exacte triall and examynation ought to be vsed. Therfore truste is not to be giuen to an other mannes iudgement, moche lesse to the malice of an accuser. But euery man shall reteyne to him selfe the power, to en­serche out the trouthe, and leauyng the en­uye or dyspleasure to the detractour, shall ponder or waye the matter indifferentely, that euery thynge, in suche wise beinge cu­riously inserched and proued, he may at his pleasure eyther loue or hate hym, whom he hath soo substauncially tried. For in good fayth, to giue place to detraction at the be­gynnynge, [Page] is a thynge chyldisshe and base, and to be estemed amonge the moste great inconueniences and myschiefes. These be well nyghe the wordes of Luciane: whe­ther the counsayle be good, I remytte it to the wyse reders. Of one thinge I am sure, that by Detraction, as wel many good wit­tes haue ben drowned, as also vertue and peynefull study vnrewarded, and many ze­latours or fauourers of the publyke weale, haue ben dyscouraged.

¶ Of Consultation and counsaylle, and in what fourme they ought to be vsed in a publyke weale. Capi. XXVII.

THe griefes or diseases, which of Aristotelle, be called the decayes of the publyke weale, being inuestigate, ex­amyned, and tried by the experience before expressed, thā commeth the time and opor­tunitie of consultation: wherby, as I sayd, is prouided the remedies mooste necessary for the healynge of the sayde grefes, or re­paration of decayes.

¶ This thynge, that is called CONSVL­TATION, Consulta­tion. is the generall denomination of the acte, wherin men do deuyse to gether, and reason, what is to be done. Counsayle Counsaile. [Page 236] is the sentence or aduise particulerly giuen by euery man for that purpose assembled. Consultation hath respecte to the tyme fu­ture or to come, that is to saye, the ende or purpose ther of is adressed to some acte or affaire, to be practised after the Consultati­on. And yet be not all other tymes exclu­ded, but firste the state of thinges presente, ought to be examined, the power, assistēce, and substance to be estemed, semblably thin ges passed, with moche and longe delybe­ration, to be reuolued & tossed in the minde, and to be conferred with them that be pre­sente, and beinge exactely wayed, the one agaynste the other, than to inuestygate or enquire exquisitely, the fourme and reason of the affaire, and in that studye to be holly resolued so effectually, that they, which be counsaylours, maye beare with them out of the counsaylle house, as it were on theyr shulders, not onely what is to be folowed and exployted, but also by what meanes or wayes it shall be pursued, and howe the affaire may be honourable, also what is ex­pedyent, and of necessitie, and howe moche is nedefull, and what space and lengthe of tyme, and fynally howe the enterprise, be­inge achieued and brought to effect, maye be kept and reteined. For often times, after exploitures, hapneth occasions, eyther by [Page] assaultes, or other encombrances of enne­mies, or of to moche truste in fortunes assu­raunce, or by dyssobedyence or presump­tion of some persones, whome the thynge toucheth, that this laste parte of Consulta­tion is omytted, or more rather neglected: where moche study, trauaile, and cost haue vtterly perished, not onely to the great de­triment of infinite persones, but also to the subuertion of moste noble publyke weales.

¶ More ouer, it is to be diligently noted, Counsaile proued by thre thīgis that euery counsayle is to be approued by thre thynges principally, that it be ryght­wyse, that it be good, & that it stand w ^t ho­nestie. That which is rightwise, is brought in by reason. For nothynge is ryghte, that is not ordered by reason. Goodnes cometh of vertue, of vertue and reason procedeth honestie. wherefore counsaile, being com­pacte of these thre, maye be named a per­fecte Capytayne, a trustye companyon, a playne and vnfayned frende. Therfore in commendation therof TITVSLIVIVS Titus Li­uius. li. xv. saythe, Many thynges be impeched or let by nature, whiche by counsayle be shortely achiued. And veryly the power of Coun­sayle is wonderfull, hauynge auctoritie as well ouer peace as martiall enterprise. And therfore with good reason Tulli affirmeth in his boke of offices, armes withoute the [Page 237] dores be of lytell inportaunce, if counsayle be not at home. And he sayth sone after, In thynges moste prosperous, the counsayle of frendes muste be vsed. Whiche is ratifi­ed by the auctour of the noble warke, na­med Ecclesiasticus, sayinge, My sonne, with Ecclesiast. xxxii. out counsayle see thou doo nothynge, and than after thy dede thou shalt neuer repent the. The same auctour gyueth thre noble preceptes concernynge this matter, which of euery wyse man ought to be had in con­tinuall memory.

¶ Of fooles take thou noo counsayle, for Eclesiasti­cus. viii. they can loue nothynge, but that pleasethe them selfes. Discouer not thy counsaile be­fore a stranger: for thou knowest not what therof may happen. Unto euery man dys­close not thy hart, leste parauenture he wyl gyue to the a feyned thanke, and after re­porte rebukefully of the.

¶ Foles (as I suppose) be they, which be more ladde with affection than reason. And whome he calleth straungers, be those, of whose fidelitie and wysedome he is not assured: and in the general name of euery man, maye be signifyed the lacke of election of counsaylours, which wolde be with a vigi­launt serche, and (as I mought saye) of all other moste scrupulus.

What in Consultation is to be chiefe­ly considered. Cap. XXVIII

THe ende of al doctrine & study, is good Counsayle, whervnto, Counsaile. as vnto the principall poynte, whiche Geometriciens do call the Centre (which by some autours be imagined in the fourme of a cerkle) all doctry­nes do sende theyr effectes lyke vnto equal lignes, as it shall appere to theym that wyll rede the bokes of the noble Plato, where he shall fynde, that the wyse Socrates, in euery inuestigation, whiche is in fourme of a consultation, vseth his persuasions and demonstrations by the certayne rules and ex­amples of sondry sciences, prouynge ther­by that the conclusion, and as (I moughte say) the perfection of them, is in good coū ­sayle, wherin vertue maye be founden, be­inge (as it were) his propre mantion or pa­layce, where her power onely apperethe, concernynge gouernaunce, eyther of one persone onely, and than it is called morall, or of a multitude, whiche for a dyuersytie maye be called polityke. Sens counsayle is of suche an efficacie, and in thynges concernynge man hath suche a preemynence, It is therfore expedyente, that consultation (wherin counsayle is expressed) be very se­riouse, [Page 238] substanciall, and profitable. Whiche to brynge to effecte, requireth two thinges principally to be considered.

¶ Fyrste, that in euery thynge, concerning Considerations of Counsaile a publyke weale, no good counsaylour be omytted or passed ouer, but that his rea­son therin, be harde to an ende. I cal him a good counsaylour, which (as Cesar sayth) in the coniuration of Cataline, whiles he Counsay­lours. Sal. bell. Cataline. Counsay­lours man consulteth in doubtfull matters, is voyde of all hate, frendshyppe, displeasure, or pitie. Howe necessary to a publike weale it shall be, to haue in any wise, mens oppinions de­clared, it is manifest to them, that do remē ­bre, that in many heades be diuers maners of wyttes, some inclined to sharpenes and rigour, many to pitie & compassyon, dyuers to atēperance and meane betwene both ex­tremities, some haue respect to tranquilli­tie onely, other, more to welthe and com­moditie, dyuers to moche reuoume and e­stimation in honour. There be, that wyll speke all theyr mynde sodeynely, and per­chaunce ryghte well. Dyuers requyre to haue respecte and study, wherin is moche more suertie, many wyll speke warely, for feare of displesure, some more bolder in vertue, wyll not spare, to shewe theyr myndes playnely, diuers wyl assent to that reasons, wherwith they suppose, that he, whiche is [Page] chiefe in auctoritie, wyll be beste pleased. These vndoughtedly be the dinersyties of wyttes. And more ouer, where there is a greatte noumbre of counsaylours, they all beinge harde, nedes must the counsayle be the more perfecte. For somtyme perchance one of them, whiche in doctrine, wyrte, or experience is in leaste estimation, may hap to expresse some sentence more auailable to the purpose, wherin they consult, than any that before came to the others remembrances. No one man is of such perfection, that he can haue in an instant remembraunce of all thynge. Whiche I suppose was conside­red by Romulus, the fyrst kyng of Romai­nes, Dionis. Malicar­nasseus. in the fyrste constitution of theyr pub­lyke weale. For hauing of his owne people but thre thousande fote men, and thre hun­drede horsemen, he chase of the eldeste and wiseste of them all, one hundrede counsay­lours. But to the more assertyon of dyuers mens sentences, I wyl declare a notable experience, whiche I late hapned to rede.

¶ Belinger Baldasine, a man of great wit, synguler lernyng, and excellent wysedome (Who was one of the counsaylours to Fer­dinando, kyng of Arogon) whan any thing doubtfull, or weyghty matter was consul­ted of, where he was present, afterwarde whan he had souped at home in his house, [Page 239] he wolde call before hym all his seruantes: and merely purposynge to them some fey­ned question or fable, wherin was craftely hyd, the matter, whiche remayned doubt­ful, wolde merely demaunde of euery man his particuler oppinion, and gyuinge good eare to theyr iudgementes, wold conferre toget her euery mannes sentence, and with good delyberation pondering theyr value, he at the laste perceyued, whiche was the truest and moste apt to his purpose: and be­inge in this wyse fournyshed, translatynge iapes and thynges fained to mater serious & true, he amonge the kinges coūsaylours, in gyuinge good and substancial aduise, had alway preeminence. Howe moche commo­dytie than suppose ye moughte be taken of the sentences of many wyse and expert coū Homerus. Iliad. pr [...]. saylours? And lyke as Calchas, as Ho­mere writeth, knewe by diuination thynges presente, thynges to come, and them that were passed, so coūsaylours garnished with lernynge, and also experience, shall therby considre the places, times, and personages examing the state of the mater, than practi­sed, and expendyng the power, assystence, and substance, also reuoluyng longe and of­ten tymes in theyr myndes, thinges that be passed, and conferrynge theym to the mat­ters that be than in experyence, studiously [Page] do seke out the reason & maner, howe that, which is by thē approued, may be brought to effecte. And suche mens reasons wolde be throughly herde, and at lengthe, for the wyser that a man is, in tarienge, his wyse­dome increaseth, his reson is more lyuely, and quycke sentence aboundeth. And to the more parte of men, whan they be chau­fed in reasonynge, argumentes, solutions, exaumples, symilitudes, and experymen­tes do resorte, and (as it were) flowe vnto their remembrances.

¶ The seconde consyderation to be had in consultation. Cap. xxix.

THe second consyderation is, that the Generall thinges be fore parti­culer. general & vniuersall astate of the pu­blike weale, wold be preferred in cō ­sultation, before any particular cōmoditie: and the profite or damage, which may hap­pen within our owne countrays, wolde be more considred, than that, which may hap­pen from other regions: whiche to beleue. cōmune reason and experience leadeth vs. For who cōmendeth those gardiners, that wyll put all their diligence in trymmyng or kepynge delicately one knotte or bedde of herbes, suffrynge al the remenaunt of their gardeine to be subuerted with a gret nom­bre [Page 240] of molles, and to attende at noo tyme for the takynge and destroyenge of theym, vntyll the herbes, wherin they haue em­ployed all their labours be also tourned vp and peryshed, and the molles increased in so infinite nombres, that no industry or la­bour, may suffice to consume them: wher­by the labour is frustrate, and all the gar­deyne made vnprofytable, and also vnplea­sant. In this similitude to the gardeyn may be resembled the publike weale, to the gardiners, the gouernours and counsaylours, to the knottes or beddes, sondry degrees of personages, to the molles, vyces, & son­dry enormities, Wherfore the consultation is but of a small effecte, wherin the vniuer­sall astate of the publyke wele doth nat oc­cupie the more parte of the tyme, & in that generaltie euery particular astate, be nat diligently ordered. For as Tulli saith, They that consulte for parte of the people, and Ci. Ooffia, li. i. neglecte the residue, they brynge into the citie or countrey a thynge mooste perniti­ous, that is to say, sedition and discorde. Wherof it hapneth, that some wyll seeme to fauoure the multitude, other be incly­ned to leene to the beste sorte, fewe do stu­dye for all vniuersally. Whiche hath benne the cause, that not onely Athenes (whiche Tulli dothe name) but also the Citie and [Page] empire of Rome, with dyuers other cities and realmes, haue decayed and ben fynally brought in extreme desolation.

¶ Also Plato, in his booke of Fortitude, Plato in [...]achete. saythe in the persone of Socrates, Whan so euer a man seketh a thynge, for cause of an other thynge, the consultation ought to be alwaye of that thynge, for whose cause the other thynge is sought for, and not of that, whiche is soughte for bycause of the other thynge. And surely, wyse men do consider, that damage often tymes hapneth, by abu­singe the due fourme of consultation: men lyke euyl Phisitions, sekyng for medicines, er they perfectly knowe the sicknesses: and as yuel marchauntes do vtter firste the wa­res and commodities of strangers, whiles strangers be robbing of their owne cofers.

¶ Therfore these thinges, that I haue re­hersed, concernyng consultation, ought to be of all men in auctoritie substancially pon­dered, and most vigilantly obserued, if they intende to be to theyr publyke weale profi­table: for the whiche purpose onely, they be called to be gouernours.

¶ And thus I conclude, to write any more of consultation, whiche is the laste parte of morall Sapience, and the begynnynge of Sapience politike.

¶ Nowe all ye reders, that desyre to haue [Page 241] your chyldren to be gouernours, or in any other autoritie in the publike weale of your countrey, if ye brynge them vp, and instru­cte them in suche fourme, as in this boke is declared, they shall than seme to all men, worthy to be in autoritie, honour, and no­blenesse. And al that is vnder theyr gouer­naunce shal prospere and come to perfecti­on, and as a precious stone in a riche ouche, they shall be beholden and wondred at, and after the deathe of theyr body, theyr soules for theyr endeuour, shal be incomprehensi­bly rewarded of the gyuer of wisedome, to whō onely be gyuen eternall glorie.

Amen.