Oh my Soule, with a good wil, but heare me. I praye thée remember that I ſaide vnto thée.

What?

That thou makeſt no ſeparation from me, wherby my death might enſue.

What nedeſt thou to replie ſo oft? haue I not ſaide vnto thée, that I will leaue in thée all mine other powers, but onely intellect and imagination, which is it that makes you vnderſtande, and not it that makes you lyue, for that is the power called vegetatiue the whych you haue common wyth trées.

If I beare no peril of death, I am content, and if I do not agree vnto it, blame me, for beaſtes lyue, and vnderſtand not.

Ah foole, doſt thou eſteme life ſo much, that thou woldſt rather chooſe to liue fiftie yeres without vnderſtanding as a beaſt, than tenne with intelligence, as a man.

For my parte I had ſo: doeſt thou thinke it a prety ſporte to die? I tell thée, I neuer ſawe any yet come againe: and of Lazarus that was rayſed, they ſay he was neuer ſéene laugh afterward, and that was, bicauſe he was afraide to die once againe, ſo fearefull was the firſt vnto him.

This thou speakeſt, bicauſe that part, which is voyd of reaſon, is it that nowe ſpeaketh in thée, but if I were with thée, thou wouldeſt not ſay ſo.

It is ſo, but as a ſeruant, not as a maiſtreſſe, as I ought, for 〈◊〉 thou haddeſt folowed my counſell, and not the other called ſenſuall, thou wouldeſt haue done as Paule did & many other, which deſired to be taken out of thys life, where they knew they were Pilgrims, and brought home to their coū trey.

Thou beginneſt to trouble my brayne: till a man comes to the points of death, euery one ſaith ſo, but when death is preſent, the man changeth his fantaſy: remember our maſter y• went to pray in the gardin, to ſée if he coulde eſcape death.

Ah Iuſt, he did it not for that, but to ſhewe with theſe paſſions naturall that he was a man, as he had ſhewed by miracles, and with workes ſupernaturall, that he was God: but let vs reſerue this talke till a more conuenient time: what meaneth it thou arte ſo long about to light that match?

I thinke it is ſomewhat moiſt, and the ſtone is not very good, and this iron hath almoſt worne out the ſ • éele.

Thou doeſt as the Poet Daut ſaith in his banquets. All artificers not cunninge, doe impute all the errours they do, to the matter they work on: why diddeſt not thou ſay, bicauſe I am olde and haue the palſey, and miſſe the ſtone oftener than I hit it.

That is true in déede, I cannot deny it, and would to God I did not ſo al ſoin other things, for I haue delite to do nothing, and I am come to ſuch a time of age, that euery thing is irkſom vnto me, and very pleaſure is vnpleaſant to me.

And yet wouldſt thou not die.

Doeſt thou not heare that I would not?

And doeſt not thou ſée that this life of thine is nothing but a death?

I thinke bicauſe they are more entangled with the world, in the which they haue liued ſo long.

Ah that is a very ſimple reaſon, and taketh place onely in • otyes as thou art, and I beleue thou haſte learned it of Trées, whych the longer they lyue, the déeper roote they make, and are then harde to be pulled vp: but by the reaſonable diſcourſe whych thou haſte, and long experience which thou oughteſt to haue by thy longe time thou haſt lyued, thou oughteſt to haue made a better reaſon.

Be contente, thys may perhappes come of that thou ſayeſt, that a man who hathe lyued longe, and made a Iudgemente by longe experience more perfect, doth better knowe, howe goodly a thyng lyfe is to him, and howe much he ought to eſtéeine it and haue it in price, wherefore it grieueth him the more to loſe it, thā it doth a yong man that doth not knowe it: As it would grieue a man more to loſe a iewel that knoweth the value therof, than it wold him that knoweth it not.

This thy ſecond reaſon is not much worth neither, & though it were true, it maketh no leſſe for hym that would ſay the contrary, than it doth for thée.

Which way? tell me.

Bicauſe if he that liueth getteth a iudgement, by the which he knoweth better the things, he ſhal knowe alſo better how full of miſerie our lyfe is. And if a man ſhould not hope for a better in the other world, he ſhould be the moſt miſerable and vnhappy creature in the vniuerſall worlde, which is manifeſtly againſt al right of reaſō, he being the moſt perfecte of all, & hauing vnderſtanding, which is a moſt diuine thing: by the which not onely the holy letters, but alſo the Pagans and Gentils, do cal him lorde of all other Creatures, and the ende of all other things, which they ſay are made of nature for him.

Howe canſt thou proue, that a man ſhould be the moſt vnhappy creature of the world, if he dyd not hope for a better life than this?

Bicauſe in this life he is much diſgraced, naked, without a houſe, not able to ſpeake, hauing nothing to eate, vnleſſe he getteth it; and when he hath it, cannot vſe it, vnleſſe it be of other dreſſed: wheras other beaſts be borne clad, ſome with one thing, ſome with an other, they haue their houſes, ſome vnder the earth, ſome in woods, ſome in flouds, and the earth bringeth forth all things nedefull for them, without any payne: and what teſtimony canſt thou haue more cléere of this, than Plinie, which in his conſideration of al things, was ſo angry with Nature, as he called hir mother of beaſts, and ſtepdame of man.

Wel, I am content it be ſo, but what makes this to my reaſō? which y• ſaiſt is aſwel againſt me as with me?

Bicauſe, he y• ſhal handle theſe matters reaſonably & without any affection, he wil conclude, that his felicity is not in this life, wher the other brute beaſts inferiour to him haue it (if they may neuertheleſſe be called happy) of y• which being certified by natural reaſō & the light of fayth, he wil not much regarde lyfe, but rather be troubled: with a deſire to be out of it, and to go to the other, as they haue done that haue deſpiſed vice, & gon by the way of vertue, ſo as if thou haſt no better reaſon, this is only in aparāce, & cōcludeth nothing.

Oh my Soule, wherof cometh that?

That is it I haue thought to tell thée (O my body) for ſo muſt I call thée, to ſpeake rightly, & not Iuſt, as I haue done & wil doe, bicauſe I will not trouble thy brayne too much: but wilt thou that I tell thée?

It commeth of little faith: and ſurely ther is nothing that cauſeth deth both to olde and yong to be ſorowfull, but that they beleue too little.

Ah, ah, a great Citizen of ours ſaid well, who I thinke had in himſelfe proued by experience, when he cauſed his graue to be made, halfe within the Church dore, and halfe without.

Well, this thou muſt thinke Iuſt, ye men be like vnto on vs, wherof the yong be ſoone taken. But as thy friend Daut fayth.

Oh God, I thinke thou ſayſt true, bicauſe I remember ſince I was a yong man, that many times at certain deuotions that we made in a company, & certain prechings that I heard, I was eaſely to be entreated to die: But nowe backea while, for I would make any contract, to liue.

Ah, ah, how thinkeſt thou, is it not as I haue faide? but maruel not at that, for the maner of yong men and women is eaſely to beleùe.

I am of thine opinion, but heare me, the fault is more thine than mine, for thou art ſhe to whom beli •• e doth appertaine, and not I.

It is true that I ought to beleue, neuer the leſſe, the principall cauſe that maketh that I doe not, is thy ſelfe.

Oh, how ſo? ſée how thou woldeſt caſt the blame vpon an other.

Thou knoweſt howe I can haue no knowledge whiles I am vnited with thée, but by the meanes of thy ſenſes, the which, knowing nothing but ſenſible thyngs, doe force me thorow the great vnion that is betwene thée and me, to goe by that path, which thou ſheweſt me, & that is by the things of the world.

Theſe he but wordes, for thou art one thy ſelfe, and as thou ſayſt, the principal, why then d • ſt thou not make me folow thée, and not thou follow me, if I goe a wrong way?

I am bound within thée, and: ſo clo • ged of thy earthly nature, that I loſe the, greater parte of 〈◊〉 ſtrength; and • a 〈…〉 lifte vp my ſelfe to heauen, as the perfection of my nature doth require. Beſides this, the reaſons with the which I ſhoulde make thée aſſured of the light of faith, haue not ſo great forc • ▪ as haue the knowledge of ſenſe which thou • eueſt me. But beleue me Iuſt, that death doth not greue hym that deleueth.

This might as well be of him that b • leueth not, for •• might thynke that when he dieth, as his pleaſures ſhall 〈◊〉 , ſo ſhal his paynes ende alſo: of the which I thinke there is no leſſe number in the worlde than of the pleaſures, as thou didſt ſay.

And who is he that thinketh there is nothing in the other world?

Oh, it had ben aswell ſaid, ſo many vertues hadde I, but I ſée Iuſt that thou 〈◊〉 an earthly piece, and craueſt nothing but earthly things.

Oh, if there were nobody elſe, howe many Popes haue there bene▪

What Popes, how like a 〈◊〉 ſpeakeſt thou?

I ſpeake of them tha • ha •• interpretedThe Pope, cauſe of ſome euill opinion of the Soule. the booke of Lazarus ſo wy • kedly, as they haue ſayd, that in the other worlde is nothing.

What booke of Lazarus ſpeakeſt thou of▪

Oh, as though y• knewſt it not.

No not I.

Well thou ſhalt know it now. They ſay yt Lazarus being aſked after his riſing, of many of his friends, what was in the other world, he aunſwered, he wold leaue it in writing. Now, eyther that he forgot it, or that it is not lawfull to ſpeake of things of the other world, of one y• had ben ther, as S. Paule ſaide, when he died lefte a booke ſealed, with order, it ſhould be giuen to the Pope, in the which nothing was written: wherfore the Pope that no ſlaūder ſhold be giuē to the world, which with great deſire, did loke to hear what was ther, did hide it, ſaying, he might not open it to any, but to his ſucceſſor, & ſo the Biſhops haue done from one to an other till this day. Now they that haue expounded the matter godly, affirming the cauſe to be, that it is not lawful for men to know the things there, farther thē hath ben declared to vs by the ſcripture, be they y• haue ben good men: & the other, that haue thus interpreted y• mater, that the meaning is, that in the other world is nothing, be they whom thou haſt ſéene, which when they haue come to their Papacie, haue done thatPopes ſerue their turnes. they thought might ſerue their turne.

A Iuſt, theſe be tales deuiſed of ſuch as thou art but I wil ſay this vnto thée, that if thou conſidereſt well, thou neuer foundſt any that can beleue this, that there is nothing abſolutely and without al reſpect: for they ſhould haue to much contentacion and pleaſure in this world, & they might fulfil all theyr deſires without any trouble of •• nde, which were no ſmall thinge, and they might alſo ſay, as that honeſt woman, which being taken in the ſacke of Genoua, ſaide: God be thanked, that I ſhal once haue my luſte, without any remorſe of conſcience.

I thinke thou ſayeſt truth, for I haue hearde there was once one in Florence that was called M. Iohn de Caui, a Phiſitian & Philoſopher, moſt famous, the which whileſt he liued ſhewed him ſelfe alwayes to be re • olued, that the Soule was mortall, neuertheleſſe when he was a dying he ſaide, by and by I ſhall be out of a great force. And diuers other whō I haue knowne to be of that opinion in their life, haue ben otherwiſe at their death. Wherof one Naum Groſſo, and Lance Goldeſmith liuing pleaſantly, and beleuing in apparaunce, not muche aboue the houſe top, yet at their deathe, the one called for a crucifixe, but woulde haue it giuen him by the hand of Donatello, that was dead. The other ſayd, I recommend my ſelf to him in the other worlde, that can do moſte, be it God or the deuil, and he that moſt may, let him moſt catche.

Let theſe things go, for they haue more of brutiſhneſſe than of reaſon: and if thou remēbreſt, thou ſhalt finde, that in thy time, there haue ben halfe a ſcore & more, whom thou haſt knowne to haue bē in their life ſcarce religious, & haue ſéemed to beleue too litle, and yet haue liued morally, and as behoueth to reaſonable creatures, which at the point of death not beyng able neuer to quench a certaine prick of reaſon, and a certain deſire and acknowledgyngImmortalitie of the Soule. of Immortalitie, although it were confuſed, and iudging it naturall, and knowyng that naturall deſires be not vain, nor of things that can not be hadde, they haue bene reduced to God, and haue confeſſed their erroure, and ſo recommended them ſelues to God, as he hath giuen them the lyghte of Fayth, whereby they haue dyed Chriſtian men. But lette vs leaue thys reaſonyng, and goe lyghte thy candle, bycauſe it ſhal be tyme by and by that thou go to thy worke.

Thou haſte a thouſande reaſons, and I ſtayde to reaſon wyth thée. What ayleth thys tynder that it wyll not take? nowe thankes bée to GOD, it is lyght. Oh, oh, good Lorde, What a goodly thyng? what a goodly Creature? Oh my Soule, bleſſed bée thou, for thou art a faire thyng.

Sitte, ſytte Iuſt, leaſt thou fall, for thou art olde.

I can not holde my ſelfe, but I muſte néedes embrace thée, wyllyng thée ſo, well, and neuer hauyng ſeene thee before. But alas, what is the matter, I féele nothyng, yet I ſée thée: Am I not well in my wyttes?

Iuſt, thou makeſt profeſſion of a Dautiſt, and thou doeſt not remember it, when thou ſhouldeſt. Doeſt not thou remember, that the lyke alſo happened vnto Daut hymſelfe, when that he woulde haue embraced Caſella: And the cauſe is this, that we be as ſhadowes, and do only ſhewe oure ſelues to the ſighte, but wée can not bée proprely touched, bycauſe that we be withoute bodyes: And this body which I haue made me, being of the aire, is alſo vntouchable.

Then you be (as a man might ſay) a thyng of nothing.

Yea, folowing the opinion of the common people, whiche call that nothyng, that is not compounded of earthe, water of fire, makyng no accompt of aire. I thinke if in this chā ber there were not theſe cheſtes, thys bed and other thyngs, thou wouldeſt ſay it were emptie, if thou wouldeſt ſay truthe.

Should I not ſay it wer emptie, when nothing is in it?

Yes ſurely, but there ſhoulde be ſomewhat in it.

What ſhould there be, when there is nothyng? I feare me, thou woldeſt make me beleue glaſſe wormes to be lanternes.

The aire ſhould be there.

What? aire or no aire, when a tubbe is emptie, I knowe there is nothing in it, and I ſée it euery day.

And what veſſels be they that thou euer haſt ſéene emptie?

Mary all thoſe in my ſhop.

Ah foole, be they not ful of aire?

No: for if thou lookeſt well, there is darkeneſſe, and where aire is, there is light.

Then the nyghte when it is darke, is none aire. This is as ye ſpeake of yong babes, whiche you ſay haue no ſoules, vntill they be baptized, which if it were true, it ſhoulde folow, that neither Turke nor Iewe had ſoule: but let vs leaue this. Thou art little practiſed and followeſt the ignorant: but that thou ſhouldeſt not remain in this thy falſe opinion, thou oughteſt to vnderſtand; that the ayre hath a body, as well as the water, or the earth, but it is a little more fyne, & is darke of it ſelf, yf it be not lightned of the Sunnebeames, or of ſome other lighte. And further, thou muſt vnderſtande, that no emptye called Vacuum, can be in Nature, that is to ſay, that in this vniuerſall worlde, there is no place, but is full of ſome bodye. And of this thou mayſt make a thouſande experiences euery daye, but I will teach thée but one, and that is, with that veſſell wherewith thou watreſt thy gardin: for ſtopping the the hole aboue, the water commes not out of the holes beneath: and that cometh of none other cauſe, but that the hole aboue; beyng ſtopped, the aire can not enter in, whereby if the water ſhoulde goe oute, that place ſhoulde remayne voyde, the whyche bycauſe Nature can not abyde; ſhe makes the water remayne, contrarie to hir nature in that place.

And who knowes that that is the cauſe?

Who knowes? euery man that hath witte.

I will tell thée the truth, theſe be certaine things that I can not ſkil of, and I think they be toyes to make a man madde. I doe knowe that a veſſelle that hathe nothyng in it, is voyde: and I can neuer beléeue otherwyſe, I hope that thou wylte not vſe me, as Mathewe Serui was, who was made to beleue that he was an other man than he tooke him ſelfe, and that he was a Carpenter, and made Tergates, whereby he entred into ſuch a conceipte, that when he came to houſes where he vſed to goe, and ſawe olde Tergats hang there, hée beganne to ſaye, that he knewe of them that were made of hys owne hande.

Then ſée howe harde it is, when one is farre brought to vnderſtande a thyng euill, to ſette hym in the ryght way.

What wouldeſt thou ſay, that when I woulde euen nowe haue embraced thée, and founde nothyng that I did imbrace ſomewhat? ah.

Dyddeſt thou not imbrace the aire?

What ayre? I knowe I imbraced nothyng: within a while thou wouldeſt make me beleue, that when my ſtomacke is emptie, it were full, the whiche yf I woulde beléeue, I ſhoulde dye for hunger. God kéepe mée.

Oh God, ſée howe this geare groweth. For out of doubt it is contrary:Nullum vacuum. for if there were any body betwene thée and me, then coulde I not ſee thée.

It is true, if it were ſuch a body, that thy ſyght or imagination coulde not paſſe, thou couldeſt not ſée me, but that ſhould riſe of an other occaſion, than a voide place betwéene thée and me.

Tell me howe this thyng is meant, for I vnderſtand it not.

If betwéene vs were emptineſſe, & none aire, thē ſhold ther be no light. Wherfore the beames of thine eyes coulde not come to thée, nor my image come to thine eyes. For light is a qualitie, and qualitie is an accident, and no accident can ſtand without a ſubiect that rules it: then if here were none aire that did ſtay the light here coulde be none.

As for me, I vnderſtand not what thou meaneſt.

Heare then, if thou canſt vnderſtande me an other waye: when thou ſtandeſt by the fyre, what is it that heateth thée?

The fire: Who knoweth not that? this is a childiſhe thing.

But that is not true.

Oh what heates me, the wind? Thy matters be childrens toyes, if I would beleue them.

The aire heateth thée which toucheth thée, whiche is heated of the fire, for the fire not touching thée, can not heate thée, for no body can worke in an other vnleſſe he touche it.

What meaneſt thou by that?

I meane that if there were any emptie place betwene thée and the fire, thou ſhouldeſt neuer be heated: For that heate whiche is an accident, hauyng nothyng to holde it, coulde not come vnto thée, but béeyng ſtayde by the ayre, whiche commeth to thée, that ayre that toucheth thée, being hotte, doth heate thée alſo.

Wel, I wyl tel thée the truth. Thou myghteſt tell me thys tale an hundred yeare, and I beleue, I ſhould neuer vnderſtande thée any thyng to thys purpoſe, and neuer beléeue thée.

I ſée thys mornyng thou art not apt to receyue the truthe: therefore I wyll not talke of any other thyng, and it is tyme thou goeſt to thy worke: To morowe at the accuſtomed houre I will goe from thée, and take this bodye and reaſon wyth thée, and thou ſhalte be better dyſpoſed to vnderſtande mée, than thou art nowe.

If wée tarrie vntill to morowe, thou ſhalte peraduenture bée better in thy brayne: and tell me no thyngs that no man vnderſtands.

But ſée thys nyght thou kepeſt thy candle lyght: for I wyll not thou ſpende ſo muche tyme aboute it to morowe.

Yea, I pray thée Iuſt, and I haue no greatter pleaſure than that: for whiles I ſtande gathered into my ſelfe to talke with thée, I am not occupied in thoſe vile and baſe conceits, which thou haſt the more part of time nor néede not miniſter to thy ſenſes and ſtrength in making thy pattens and barelles.

I do not maruell thereat, for I my ſelfe doe labour very vnwillyngly, and nothing is more grieuous vnto mee: and were it not that curſed force doth cauſe me, I woulde neuer worke ſtroke.

What wouldeſt thou do, liue and be always in Idleneſſe?

No, but I woulde beſtow the time in ſome thing that ſhold delight me, where as to worke is paine and trouble to me.

Then think what it is to me being much more contrary to my nature than to thine.

I knowe not that: I ſée that God, after man had ſinned, mynding to giue him part of penance, as he had done the woman in trauailyng with paine, ſayd vnto him: Thou ſhalt eate thy bread in the ſweate of thy face▪ giuing him labor, for y• greuouſeſt and troubleſome thing he could giue him.

Ah, ah, ſée, ſée, howe by litle & litle thou commeſt to mine opinion: Thou didſt maruell when I ſayd vnto thée the laſt day, that it was more paine to a man to make a paire of patens, than to ſtudy halfe Ariſtotle: the reaſon thy ſelfe haſte ſhewed: for to ſtudie, is naturall and propre to mā, and leades him to his perfection: and to labour, is a penance.

Yea mā muſt haue alſo to liue.

That is true: But all is to be content of that which is neceſſary, and not to ſéeke ſuperfluitie, whiche bringeth a thouſande vnprofitable cares to man, and kepes hym alwayes occupied in the earthe, and neuer lets hym hold vp his head to heauen, from whence his ſoule came firſt, and whether ſhe deſireth to returne: & know Iuſt, that the greateſt good and profitable thyng to man in this life, is to acquainte hym ſelfe with thyngs as they come, and content him ſelf with a litle: for he that ſo doth, liueth with ſmall care, and is mery the moſt part of his time, if not all.

I beléeue it certainely: for I proued it in my ſelfe, howe profitable it hath ben to me, to content me with that I haue, meaſuring my will with my fortune, and if I woulde haue lyued or clothed me better, I muſt néedes haue done ſome vnhoneſt thyng, or gone and dwelt with other.

It were euyll for great men Iuſt, if all men were of that wil: for they then muſt ſerue them ſelues: bycauſe it is nothyng but immoderate deſire, eyther of dignitie, or of diete to eate and drinke delicately, or to be clad ſumptuouſly, that cauſeth that a mā which reaſonably might liue thrée ſcore yeares (in ten or twelue of the which, he knoweth not what he doth, and of the reſt hée ſléepeth the halfe) ſelleth thoſe fewe that he lyueth, lyuyng in ſeruitude, for a little price: Whiche thing that wiſe Philoſopher Diogenes woulde not doe, to whome Alexander the greate, ſayde: That he ſhoulde aſke what he woulde, and it ſhoulde bée gyuen hym. Hée aunſwered: Thoughe he were poore, he lacked nothing, but required hym to ſtand aſide, bicauſe he toke the Sunne from him, that was not in his power to gyue hym.

Certainly to depend of himſelf is a goodly thing, and to be a friend to lordes, but not a ſlaue, honoryng and obeying them neuertheleſſe, as them that holde in earth the place of God: and when a man wyll aduaunce hymſelfe, he oughte to doe it with Vertue, and not with ſeruice, thynking neuertheleſſe, that in euery ſtate he ſhall lacke ſomewhat.

Then cōplain not of thine, & know certēly, ther is no ſtate in this worlde, but hath some diſcommoditie and ſome thing that diſpleaſeth, and none can be found as thou haſte ſayd, but that lacketh ſomewhat.

Wyth this reaſon woulde I once proue vnto a friend of mine that all the ſtates of men, were alike, and I told him that euery one lacked ſomwhat, which chiefly he deſired: as for example: The lame deſireth to bée ſounde, that he might get his liuyng and not go a begging. He that is hole and hath nothyng, to haue ſomewhat to lyue, that hée needeth not labour: and he that hath to liue ſufficiently, to gette ſo muche as he myght kepe an horſe and a boy: and he that hath that, to get a dignitie, or a gretneſſe aboue other, and then to be a Prince, and being a prince, neuer to die.

Then do not thou lamente though thou laboureſt a litle, ſeing euery man lackes ſomewhat.

To labour a little were a pleſure, but always, as I do that haue litle or nothing, is a deſpight.

Marke, thou doeſt as other do: but tell me, what wouldeſt thou haue, what wanteſt thou?

Swéete Ducates of reuenue, and then I ſhould liue well.

And when thou haddeſt that, thou ſhouldeſt then lacke ſomewhat, and deſire it, as thou doſt this, bicauſe as thou haſt ſayde of thy ſelfe, in euery ſtate ther lacketh ſome thing, thinking when thou haſt it, thou woldeſt be content, and yet when thou haſte it, thou arte not content, but begynneſt to deſire an other: So as once a Citizen of oures ſayde wiſely, to one that was entred into greate diſorder, to bie a piece of grounde that lay next him: Thou muſte thinke, thou muſte haue neighbours, and when thou haſt bought this, thou ſhalt haue an other neighbour, of whome thou wilt haue the like deſire.

I beleue certainly, that there is care in euery ſtate but more in one than in an other.

And is not thine one of them that ſo hath, and of the greater?

It is, ſeyng I muſt onely liue by my worke, which (as I ſayd afore) was put to man for penaunce of hys ſynnes.

Yea, to them yt haue their willes diſordinate, & be not contēt with yt is conueniēt to their ſtate, as Adā had when this hapned to hym. But to him that directeth paciētly his way in this life to that he is called, it chaunceth not ſo. What ſwéeter thyng can be, than to liue with the trauel of his hā des? So that Dauid y• Prophet, which was alſo a King, as thou knoweſt, did call ſuch like, bleſſed. And know this for a cōcluſion, the more a man hath, the more care he muſt take: and it is greater and paynfuller penſiueneſſe, to rule ſuperfluous things to him, thā is the ſweteneſſe to poſſeſſe them, and the more ſeruantes and labourers he hath, the more enimies he hathe, as that philoſopher ſayde well. But let vs leaue theſe matters, in the whiche me thinke we haue ſayde inough: let vs turne a litle to them of yeſterday, which we left vnperfect, bicauſe thou doubtedſt before, yt if thou beleuedſt me, I ſhould make thée a fole, as though yu hadſt not thy part as well as other.

Take this too, if it pleaſe thée: wilt thou ſay that euery one is a foole?

A foole? no: but that euery man thinketh ſo.

Oh that is al one.

Know Iuſt, that euery man hath a brāch, & be thou ſure, yt one greter thā an other: but this is y• differēce of yt wiſe & y• fooliſh, y• the wiſe carieth it couered, & the fooles carie it open in their handes that euery man ſeeth it.

Ah, thou art diſpoſed.

Be cōtent, I wil proue it thée in thy ſelf: how many times haſt thou walked in thy houſe, ſetting thy féete in the mids of the pauing tyles ſeking wt great diligēce not to touch y• ends?

Then tel me, if thou haddeſt ſo done abroade, woulde not the chyldren haue runne aboute thée, as they doe about fooles?

By my faith thou ſayſt truth, and I will no more denye, but that I alſo haue my fondneſſe: and now doe I thynke that Prouerbe moſte true, which I haue oft hearde ſpoken, that if fooliſhneſſe were a paine, we ſhould heare groning in euery houſe.

I will tell thée more, thou ſhalte finde fewe men in the worlde, that haue lefte any fame, but if thou doſt conſider their life, they haue born their braunch vncouered: but bycauſe it hathe to them come well to paſſe, they haue bene praiſed, but I wil not we talke any more of this. Lette vs turne to our reaſoning, tell me howe thou that haſt no Grammer, nor haſt ſtudied, diddeſt knowe, that laboure was giuen of God, to our firſt fathers for a penance & puniſhment for theyr diſobedience.

Oh, doſt not thou knowe, that ſo ofte haſt redde with me the Bible, which I haue?

How doſt thou vnderſtand it?

Why ſhould I not vnderſtand it, knoweſt thou not, that it is in vulgare?

Yes. I know.

Then why doeſt thou aſk me.

To make thée confeſſe that thou haſt ſpoken, that if ſciences and the ſcripture were in the vulgar, thou ſhouldeſt vnderſtande them.

Yea, as touching the words, but to pierce to ye ſenſe, is an other mater.

It is inough, that thou ſhouldeſt haue no difficultie in vnderſtandyng the wordes, but onely in the intelligēce of the ſenſe, which they haue alſo, that reade it in Greke or Latin: for thou mayſt not beleue, that by vnderſtanding a tong, al authors be vnderſtanded, and all ſciences that be in the ſame: for to do that, there is néede of ſome ſchoolemaiſters and interpreters, and yet with great difficultie be vnderſtanded: and the like ſhold come if they were in vulgare. But now it is inough for me that thou knoweſt, that it is not tongues that make the learned men, but Science.

Therefore a man can not bée learned, vnleſſe hée vnderſtande the Latin tongue, wherein they be all written: what wilte thou learne in ours?

Thanke the Romaines that haue tranſlated, if the Latin tongue be riche, and blame the Toſcanes, that haue not cared for theirs, if theirs bée poore.

All is, if the faulte commeth of the tongue, that it is not ſo copious of wordes, as men can write in it.

Newe wordes be made, and brought to vſe as things require.

Yea, in them that be not dead, and of them onely, of whiche they be propre.

Which calleſt thou dead?

Thoſe whiche be not ſpoken naturally in no place, as at this day, the Latin and the Greeke, and in our tongue, it is not lawful to make new words to them that be not propre and natiue vnto it.

Why, is it not lawful to thoſe ſtrangers that knowes it?

Bicauſe it not being to them naturall, they can not make them ſo, as they ſhall haue grace. Marke well ſuche as in our tongue, of ſome nowe a dayes haue bene deuiſed.

Then thou iudgeſt it is none errour to make them in our tongue?

Not of hym that ſpeaketh it naturally, rather were it laudable. Tell me, doeſt thou thyncke that eyther the Gréeke, or Latine tongue, were ſo perfect and plentifull of wordes at the beginning as they were after when they flouriſhed with ſo worthy writers?

I beleue it not.

Be thou wel aſſured: for there is none of theſe things that be exerciſed of vs, that was in the beginnyng perfectly produced of nature, or found out of arte: for if that could be done, the one of them ſhoulde be in vaine: for if Nature broughte forthe euery thing perfect, we ſhould haue no nede of Arte: and if Arte of hir ſelf coulde make them perfect, we ſhould haue no nede of Nature. Dyd not Cicero and Boetio, make new wordes when they would put philoſophie and Logike in the Latin tongue?

Dyd they borow them of other nations?

Be thou ſure they did.

And of whome?

Of the Grekes, and the Grekes of the Hebrues, and the Hebrues of the Egiptians. Haſte thou not heard that nothing can be ſayd, but that hath ben ſayd before? but the Romanes being other men, and of other iudgement than be now the Toſcanes, louing more their owne things (as reaſon is) than others, did ſtudy only ſtraunge tongs, to gather out of them that was good to enrich their owne.

Truly in this me thinke they were worthy praiſe.

Search all the aūcient things, and thou ſhalte ſée that there be fewe Romanes that wrote in Gréeke, as our Toſcanes do in latin, which is not their tongue, and for al their doing, it is wel knowne, that tha • puritie is not ſéene in their writings, which is ſéene in the ſtile of proper Latines.

In this they deſerue to be excuſed, it not being their proper tongue as thou ſayſt.

Rather they deſerue to be double blamed. Doſt thou remember thou haſt heard, that when M. Cato did read certayn things of Albino the Romane, written in Gréeke, and finding that in the beginning he did excuſe him ſelfe, that they were not written with that elegancie that they ought, bicauſe he was a citizen of Rome and borne in Italie, and a ſtraunger to the Gréeke tong, he did not only excuſe him, but laughed at him, ſaying: Oh Albino, thou hadſt rather aſke pardon of an errour done, than not doe it.

Truly theſe reaſons be ſo good, that I for me can ſay nothyng againſt them.

Sée how the Romanes did ſéeke to enrich theyr tongue, and thought to bryng no leſſe noble fame by this, than by conquering to theyr Empyre ſome Citie or Kingdome: and that thys is true, reade the Proeme that Boetius makes in his tranſlation of Ariſtotles Predicamentes, where he ſayth: that being a man of Counſell, and not apt to warre, he woulde labour to inſtructe his countrey men wyth doctrine, and that he hoped to deſerue no leſſe, nor be no leſſe profitable vnto them, by teachyng them the Arte of Gréeke ſapience, than they whych wyth force and valiauntneſſe, haue ſubdued ſome Citie or Prouince to the Romane Empire.

O mindes and thoughtes, holy in déede, and wordes worthy a citizen of Rome: for the very office of a citizen is alwaies to helpe his countrey as much as he can, to the which we be no leſſe bound, than to our fathers and mothers.

And therefore at this day is theyr tongue hadde in ſo greate eſtimation, for that it is ſo full of good Sciences, as he that wyll obtayne them muſt néedes fyrſte learne it: where, if our Toſcanes woulde tranſlate likewiſe the ſame, to them that would learne them, they ſhoulde not néede to ſpende foure or ſixe of their firſt beſt yeares to learne a tongue▪ that they might by the meane therof paſſe to the ſciences, which other wiſe might he had with more eaſe and more ſurety: for thou muſt know this, that we neuer learne a ſtraunge tong to poſſeſſe it well, as we do our proper: and likewiſe a man ſpeaketh not ſo aſſuredly, nor with ſuch facility: & if thou beleueſt not me, marke them whō thou knoweſt ſtudy the Latine tongue, that when they would ſpeake in it, it ſéemes they beg, they vtter their words with ſuch difficultie, and ſpeake ſo leiſurely.

Thou ſaiſt truth, but this way of the Romanes was very good, to tranſlate into their tongue ſo many goodly things, that he that will vnderſtande them, muſt be forced to learn the tong, and ſo was diſperſed throughout the world.

They did not onely this, but whiles they were Lordes of the world, they cauſed it to be learned of the moſt part of their ſubiects by force.

And what did they?

They had made a law, that no Embaſſador ſhold be heard, vnleſſe he ſpake Latin: & beſides, all cauſes that were hearde in all Prouinces vnder their gouernment, and al proceſſe, was written in the Latin tongue: wherfore all the noble men of euery cuntrey, and all the aduocates and attorneys were forced to learne the tongue.

I doe not maruel though Rome became ſo great, if they vſed this way in other things.

Of this I will not reaſon, for the goodly things that they got of al the world, doe make cléere teſtimonie to all that conſider it.

O cuſtome very laudable, O citizens very louers of their countrey.

This cuſtome, Iuſt, was not only of the Romanes, but of al other nations: Séeke as much as thou wilt, and thou ſhalt neuer finde that any Hebrue hath written in Egipt tong, nor Greeke in Hebrue, nor Latin (as I haue ſayd) in Greeke, and if there be any, they be very fewe.

Of their inordinate loue of themſelues, and not of their countrey, or of their tongue, for ſo doing, they haue thought to be taken the more lerned.

They do as the Phiſitian that Iones had, which to ſéeme the more lerned, did ordaine certaine receipts wyth certain names out of vſe, that made me to maruell: among the which I remē ber one morning, that he made me a receipt, for the impoſtume that thou knoweſt I had: where amongſt certayne other things, one was called Rob, an other Tartaro, and an other Altea: ſo as I thought I muſt haue ſent into the new found Ilands for an Interpreter: and when it came to paſſe, the one was Sope, the other Lées of a veſſell, and the third M •• owes.

Oh thou haſt ſayd well Iuſt, and if thou conſidereſt well, this world is nothing elſe but a confuſion: yet if the Toſcanes woulde endeuour them to tranſlate ſciences into theyr tongue, I haue no doubt at all, but in ſhorte time it ſhould come into greater reputation than it is, for it is ſéene that it pleaſeth much, and is this day much vnderſtanded and deſired, and this cometh onely for naturall beauty and goodneſſe of it, the which thing ſtraungers not knowing, many times going about to pulliſh it, do blemiſh it, and ſo it comes properly to paſſe to hir as doth to a woman, which thinking to make hir ſelfe faire wyth painting, doth vtterly deſtroy hir ſelfe.

How can that be?

I will tell thée, whiles they ſéeke to make it more beautifull, and make the clauſes like to the Latin, they deſtroy the facilitie and naturall order of it, in the which conſiſts the beauty: and beſides, they will take ſome words vſed of Boccace or Petrark very ſeldom, the whych they thyncke the goodlyer, bicauſe they be ſeldome vſed of them, & bicauſe they haue not by nature the true ſignification, nor the true ſound in the eare, they put them in euery place, and many times out of purpoſe, and ſo they hurt the naturall beauty therof.

I doubt if they cannot inunitate other, it might not be ſayde to them, as one Pippo ſaid to Francis di Loma, who thinking to excuſe him ſelfe of a croſſebeame which he had made in the gallerie of the Innocentes, which bowed toward the earth, ſaying he had taken it out of S. Iohns Temple, he aunſwered, thou haſt counterfaited only the worſt of it: but if the tong be of ſuch perfection as thou ſayſt, wherof comes it, that many of theſe lerned, do blame ſo much them, that tranſlate any thing?

With what reaſon?

They ſay the tong is not apt, nor worthy, that ſuch things ſhould be tranſlated into it, and that it taketh frō them the reputation, and much embaſeth them.

What cauſe then can moue them to ſay, that things tranſlated into the vulgare, be abaſed and loſe theyr reputation.

That which I tolde thée this other day, which was the occaſion of ſo many other euils, euen the wicked ennie and deſire they haue to be compted more than other.

Surely I beleue thou ſaiſt truth, for I remember me, that being one day among theſe learned folke, and one of them ſhewing that Bernard Segne had trāſlated; Ariſtotles Rhetorike into the bulgare, one ſayde he had done a great euill, and being aſked why, he anſwered, it was not méete that euery vulgar ſhould vnderſtand that, which an other with great trauayle, hadde learned in many yeares, in Latine and Gréeke bookes.

O wordes inconuenient, I wyll not ſay onely to a Chriſtian, but to a man, knowing how much we are bound to loue one an other, & more to ye ſoule than to the body, to whō no greater good can be done, than to make eaſy the way of vnderſtanding.

But ſofte a while, I remember they ſay an other thing.

What?

They ſay that the things that be tranſlated out of one tongue into an other, neuer haue the force nor grace that they haue in their owne.

They haue not that in theyr owne that they haue in other, for euery tongue hath hir fyneſſe and delicacie, & peraduenture the Toſcane more than an other: and he that wyll ſée it, let him reade Dante or Petrarke, where they haue ſpoken of any thing that was before ſpokē of a Latin or Gréeke Poet, and he ſhall ſée they paſſe hym farre, and that in fewe thyngs they be inferiour.

But in tranſlations they muſte haue more regarde to the ſenſe, than to the wordes.

I know they tranſlate, by reaſon of ſcience, and not to ſée the force or the beauty of the tongs: and if it were not ſo, the Romanes that thought theyr tongue the fayreſt in the world, would not haue tranſlated the feates of Mago of Carthage, into their tongue, nor tho Grecians that were ſo proude and vayn glorious of theirs, (calling all the reſte barbarous) the Egiptians and the Chaldeis workes: Neuertheleſſe in tranſlating, beſide that a man ought to be faith full, he muſt ſéeke to ſpeake the wordes as ornately as he can. Therefore it is neceſſary to him that tranſlateth, to know well the one tong and the other, and then to poſſeſſe well the things or Sciences that be tranſlated, that he may vtter them well and pleaſantly according to the nature of the tong, for if a man will tell the things of one tong, with the maner of an other tongue, it hath no grace at al: and if this were obſerued, tranſlating perhaps ſhould not be ſo much blamed.

They ſay further, that they doe contrary to the authors intent.

How can that be? ſéeing who ſoeuer writes, he doth it for none other purpoſe, but that his things being preſerued by letters, and not loſ • e by voyces, might be vnderſtanded of all the world.

Then thou thinkſt that to tranſlate ſciences in our tong is good.

Yea, I affirme nothing can be more profitable nor laudable, bicauſe the greater parte of errours, cōmeth of ignorance, and princes ought to regard it, bicauſe thei be fathers of the people: and to a father appertaineth not onely to gouern his children, but alſo to teach them and correct them, and if they will not do this in euery thing, at leaſt they ought to doe it in neceſſary things.

And which be they?

The lawes, as well diuine as humaine.

What profit ſhould that bring to men?

What profit? how much more ſhould they be louers and defenders ofGods lavve in vulgar. chriſtian religion, if it were begon to be read of children, and from hand to hand exerciſed in the ſame, as the Hebrues do, which thing they can not do, not hauing them tranſlated and well placed in the vulgare?

It is no maruell though the Hebrues do all ſo well know to ſpeake of things of their law, and a ſhame it is to chriſtians which teach their children to read eyther matters of marchandiſe or other things wherof no good is to be gotten, wher they ought to teach them firſte what appertaines to a chriſtian,Seruice in vulgar. knowing that thoſe things which be learned in the firſt yeres, be euer more than other kept in memorie.

And beſide this, with howe much more reuerence and attention ſhold we ſtande at ſeruice, if we did vnderſtand what is ſaid?

Truly it is ſo.

Tell me with what deuotion, or what minde do men praiſe God, not vnderſtāding what they ſay? thou knoweſt wel the talke of Children and Popeniayes is not called a ſpéech, but an imitation of a ſound only, bicauſe they vnderſtand not what they ſay (for ſpéech is properly to expreſſe words, that may ſignify the conceit and the meaning of him that ſpeaketh) wherefore our reading or ſinging of pſalmes, not vnderſtanding what we ſay, is lyke the tatling of Children, or the babling of Popeniayes. And I know no religion but ours, that kepes this forme: for y• Hebrues praiſe God in Hebrue, the Greeks in Greeke, the Latines in Latin, the Sclauonians in Sclauony: thanks be to S. Ierome that tranſlated euery thing in their tong, as a very louer of his cūtrey.

Surely my Soule, this thy opinion pleaſeth me much.

It may pleaſe thée, for it is S. Paules, who writeth to the Corinthians, that they ought to ſay their Seruice in Hebrue. Howe ſhall an ignorant ſay Amen vpon your bleſſing, if he vnderſtand not what is ſaid? and what fruite ſhall he euer get?

Wherof cometh it then y• when theſe things were firſt taken out of Hebrue▪ they were not put into ye vulgar?

Bicauſe then for the confuſion of many barbarous nations that were that time in Italy, ther was none other tongue but Latine, which was vnderſtand through out: & marke that there is found no writing in that time, of holy things, but in that tongue: and let this ſuffiſe for the lawes of God. Now lette vs come to mans: if they be thoſe that muſte rule men, and after whoſe precept we ought to lyue, why are they in a tongue that fewe do vnderſtand? The Romanes that made ſo many, and had ſo many of the Greekes, they made them in none other tongue but in their owne. And likewiſe, Licurgus and Solon and others, that gaue lawes to all Greece, made them in none other tong, but in that the people vſed.

If this be ſo neceſſary a thing as thou ſayſt, what meaneth it, that as well holy as ciuill lawes be not tranſlated into vulgar.

The couetouſneſſe of prieſtesCouetiſe of Prieſtes and Fryers. and friers, to whom the portion of the tenthes, which God by law hath ordeyned for them, not being ſufficient, deſiring to liue ſo ſumptuouſly as they doe, doth hide them, and ſell them by little and little, as they ſay, by inch, and yet as they liſt, bicauſe they will afray men with a thouſand threatnings, which do not ſo ſounde in the law as they interprete, ſo as they haue got from the poore ſeculers, more than the one half of that they haue.

Ah this is a fault which I think is not only to be giuen to prieſts, but to euery one, for there is no man that thinkes vpon other thyng, but to get money from an others bagge, and put it into his: but it is true, that prieſts Friers and notaries that doe it with wordes, be more wittie than other.

Alas, it ſhoulde not come to them ſo eaſily, if mē had more knowledge of Scripture than they haue: and the cauſe why mans lawe is not tranſlated, is likewiſe the impietie of many doctors and aduocates, that wil ſell common thyngs, and that they might the better do it, they haue foūd this pretie toye, that contractes can not be made in vulgar, but onely in their faire Grammer, which they litle vnderſtande, and others leſſe. I maruell certainly, that men haue ſuffered ſuch a thing, vnder the which may be wrought ſo many deceipts.

Though that be not ſo, yet it wer more profitable, they were done in our tongue: for a man ſhuld vnderſtand what he doth, and then witneſſe what they haue to teſtifie, & they ſhold ſee them written alſo, that they toke not the name onely, and then make a long daſhe at their pleaſure, puttyng to euery worde, Et caetera, which (as I think) is nothing but an hooke, where as men not vnderſtāding what they doe, it is inough for them to ſay yea, & doe not regarde the conditions, that many tymes be comprehended, wherby doth grow many ſutes.

And that is the cauſe I think why they doe it: and therfore I wyll ſay this vnto thée: Wée haue no leſſe cauſe to lament of prieſts and of lawyers, thā haue thoſe Princes ſubiects, which would ſell them water & light.

Of them, I let thée ſpeake as much as thou wilt, but of Friers and Prieſts I wold not haue thee ſay euil: for as I haue herd thē ſay, it becomes not ſecular men to reprehende them.

Beholde one of the opinions which the worlde beleueth true, bycauſe they vnderſtād not the holy letters: tell me, are not all we the children of God, and conſequentely, the brethren of Chriſt?

Yes, we be.

And brethren, in that they be brethren, be they not equall?

Yes they be.

Therfore we as chriſtians & children of god, be equal: & to one brother apertaines to reprehēd an other.

That is true: but they haue this dignitie of prieſthode that maketh thē more worthy than vs.

What greater dignitie cā be than to be y• children of God? Wilte thou yt the leſſe light ſhould couer the greater? It is greater dignitie to be a Chriſtian, than a prieſt, or a Prince,A Chriſtian. which be offices giuē of God, & make men the miniſters of GOD. Thou knoweſt it is more to be the ſonne of a prince, than his miniſter.

Then am I more than ye pope.

Not ſo: for firſt he is a chriſtiā as thou art, in yt which you be equall, then bicauſe he is choſen to be a miniſter vnder God, one waye he is more than thou: but for al this, it is not prohibited thée, to reprehende the errors that he doth and cōmitteth, as a man and as a chriſtian, ſo thou doſt it with that reuerence that charitie teacheth. And that this is true, thou haſt example of ſainct Paule the Apoſtle, which ſayth: He reproued Peter, that was his greater, bicauſe he was worthy of it.

Of truth this thy opinion doth not diſpleaſe me, but I wil not ſpeke it: for beſyde their authoritie, they haue alſo force, and defend themſelues with armes, ſéeing their excommunications will no longer ſerue them, as in the primitiue churche, where when they dyd excommunicate any, ſodenly eyther he fell deade, or was caried away with deuyls.

Surely, if they had not other armure than their maledictions; a mā might doe with them, as the ſouldier which haning takē from a Frier half a piece of cloth, which he had begged, and the Frier thretning hym he wold require it againe at the day of Iudgement, he toke al the reſt, ſaying: Seing I haue ſo long a day of payment, I will haue this too?

Alas, why can they not do miracles as they haue done?

Wel ſaid ſainct Thomas of Aquine, when Pope Innocēt had a moū tain of money afore him, and ſhewed it him, ſaying: Thou ſéeſt Thomas, the church can no more ſay now, Argentum & aurum non est mihi, he aunſweredThomas of Aquine to Pope Innocent. no: neither Surge, & ambula.

O my ſoule, thou knoweſt ſo many things, that certainly thou makeſt me maruell, and thou art muche wiſer and learned than I tooke thée. But tell me, couldeſt thou haue knowen them without me? for thou haſt ſaid vnto me, that we be al one thing, and whiles thou art vnited with me, thou canſt not worke but in me.

Oh thou ſayſt truth, it is clere day in déede. Oh how the time paſſeth, and a man ſéeth it not, when he dothe or reaſoneth of any thyng that pleaſeth hym.

What doeſt thou muſe Iuſt, that thou art ſo waking? what diddeſt thou thinke of?

I thought howe contented a man myght lyue, and how much more happy hys life ſhoulde be, if he woulde lyue after reaſon, and not after ſenſes, as he doth. Wherof it comes, that working, as a man may ſay, contrary to his nature, he lyueth in an vnquyetneſſe, and in a war with him ſelfe moſt great. For much greater be the vexatiōs that our inwarde paſſions worke, than the outward.

Oh why haue it not we as well as he?

Bicauſe we haue loſte thorough his diſobedience, the gift of that iuſtice, which they call originall, which God had giuē him, which was nothing but a bridle and a rule, that kept the inward partes ſubdued & obedient to the ſuperiour, by the which the fleſh did not kicke againſt the ſpirit, nor the ſenſitiue partes wholy did deſire other in man, but the preſeruation of the ſingular, called indeuided, by the benefite of the part reaſonable, and not for delight, as they doe nowe, nor did ſéeke other than the good it ſelfe: the which thing thy Dante no leſſe pleaſantly than learnedly doth expreſſe, when being brought to the earthly Paradiſe, in the ſtate of innocencie, he cauſed Virgill thus to ſay.

Lament of thy ſelfe, for thou waſt the cauſe, for I neuer fayled, when thou gaueſt thy ſelf wholy a pray to thy ſenſes, as beaſts do, to reproue thy ſelfe, at the leaſt with the remorſe of conſcience, if not otherwiſe. But thou driuen of paſſions and ſeruent deſires, whych that age bringeth with it, didſt bewrap thy ſelfe in falſe pleaſures of the world, that eyther thou dydſt not heare me, or not regarde mine admonitions.

I wil not here after do ſo again.

Thinke of it in time, as I haue ſayde vnto thée before, for when thou goeſt about it, thou ſhalt find it yet pain ful, bicauſe of thy former vſe of life.

Wel, be it as thou wilt, we wil no more ſtriue, & I will doe after thy way, but I pray thée, y• thou wouldſt giue me ſome rule, how I ſhoulde rule my ſelfe, that I may liue in accord with thée, this little time that is lefte, & ſhew me what I ought to regard that I might be with thée ſo long as might be, & with ye feweſt diſpleaſurs, as wel of thée as of me.

This pleaſeth me much, for I alſo, though I can attaine to my chiefe perfectneſſe, I deſire to be in thée, ſo lōg as may, for without thée, I am in a maner vnperfect, & this can not be but by the meane of life: which as I ſaid vnto thée afore, conſiſteth in natural heate, & grounded moyſture, of the which vntill the one be ſpent by violence, or ye other by old age, the life endureth: the which thing, ſome Philoſophers conſidering, ſaid, I was nothing elſe but a temperature of complexion. If I then teach thée to maintayne this temperature, I ſhall teach thée to liue long, but ſée yu ſuffreſt not thy ſelf after to be ouercome of wil.

Of this I haue ſaid vnto thée diuers times yu ſholdſt haue no ſuſpition.

Many things ther be, that haue néede to be conſidered & regulate neceſſary to the life of man, which, for being more perfect than any other creature, & better membred, that by the multitude of inſtruments, he might exerciſe many operations, & not one alone or fewe, as other creaturs do, he hath néede of more things than any other, & chiefly ought to conſider the aire, the place, and the houſes where he dwell.

This I perceiue wel, for of theAire. aire I am nouriſhed by breathing continually, & of the place & habitaciō, I take great comfort, if they be agreable to my nature, & ſo cōtrary, if they be not good.

The habitaciō which thou haſt,Habitation is very good & méete for thy behauiour, for it is ſafe frō moyſture, defended frō winde, & ſtandeth toward the ſouth, that makes it no leſſe pleaſant thā helthful.

In good fayth, I may reaſonably content me herein.

In this alſo I will doe as thou wiſheſt me.

Thou muſt alſo vſe great diligence in thy Diet, both in quantitieDiet. and qualitie, for nature in this age is ſo weake, that ſhe may not be troubled with much meate, nor vexed with variety therof, and further the natural heat is ſo weake alſo, that hardly can we digeſt the things that be contrary▪

Thou ſhalt diuide that quantitie of meate which thou iudgeſt ſufficiente to the conſeruation of thy lyfe, without much trouble of nature, into two or thrée meales a day, as thy ſtomakeMeales. ſhall beare, and of this thou ſhalt not faile being none other impediment.

This pleaſeth me.

And bicauſe, as I haue tolde thée, nature hath for none other end, ordeined that thou ſhouldſt eate & drinke, but to reſtore thée moiſture and natural heate, thou ſhalt vſe for thy meates, all thoſe things that be hot and moyſte, for of thoſe thou mayſt only take nouriture apt to preſerue thée aliue and hole.

Which be they?

All thoſe thinges generally, that be ſwéete, for among thoſe taſtes,Sweete. only the ſwéete nouriſhe, and the other ſeme to be made of nature not for other but to repreſſe & temper too much ſwéet, that it ſhould not diſtemper a man.

Bicauſe it is hote and moiſte temperatly, whereof the other .vj. kinds of taſtes, (for ſo many they ſay, the prinpall be,) not numbring the oylie, which they ſay, is all one with the ſwéete: the ſtrong which is called ſharpe, the quick and the tarte, doe decline to colde, the ſtrong, which is in Pepper, and is called biting, the bitter and the ſalte, take too much parte with the hot.

Then ſwéete wine, and fruites that be ſwéete, ſhall be beſt for me.

Wine, ſurely yea, if it be ſubtil & odoriferous, but thou muſt drinke little, for the ſwéete, bicauſe it is hot, is alſo light, & ſtraight aſſaileth the head. Fruites in déede be ſwéete, but bicauſe 〈◊〉 they be raw, and hard to digeſt, they get no good bloud, nor good humors, but only figs, and grapes, which be very good as Galen doth wryte, affirming that all beaſts & countrey men, in y• time y• they be, be fat, & haue their fleſh cléere & ſoft.

And what of fruits that be kept?

Oh theſe thy diſcourſes pleaſe me very wel my Soule, and I wil truely (ſay as that Philoſopher) we die euen then, when we learne to liue.

Thou muſt mark alſo, that theWater. water which y• vſeſt to drinke, be pure, & not mingled wt any thing, which thou ſhalt knowe when it hath ſmell or taſt, and whan it is more lighte than other: no water to be found, that wayeth leſſe than water pure.

It were to much, to way waters.

To auoide that, thou muſt take the water of conduits, the which being raynie water gendred in the ayre, of bapors which the Sunne hath drawen vp, it foloweth it is more properly water & lighter than it that paſſeth by the vains of the earth, bicauſe the Sunne taketh from the water with his heat, only the partes more light, which be the more ſwéet: by which occaſion ſome haue ſaidS •• . the Sea is ſalt, bicauſe the only earthly and groſſe parts remaine in him which be ſaltiſh.

Now I know what wrong they doe to nature, which, not vſing the prudence that God hath gyuen them for their profit, do eate and drinke of euery thing as beaſts doe, without any conſideration.

The fleſh of which thou wyltFleſh. féede, muſt be of thoſe beaſts and byrds that haue long life, for that cometh only (as I tolde thée) bicauſe they haue good moyſture, and leſſe apt to be corrupted, and conſequently, more heat and more perfect.

I perceiue it well.

I haue heard ſpoken of fiſh, thatFiſh. it would be olde.

Know thou wel Iust, that they would ſay great, but not olde: bycauſe whē a creature cometh to his gretneſſe,Great. then he comes to y• point of his floures, & in the top of his youth. Marke kine, and thou ſhalte ſée howe much better a Veale is of thrée or four yere, thā a biefe of eyght or tenne, and yet they be a lyke great. Which thing can not be ſéene in fiſhe, bicauſe we can haue no knowledge of their age, they liuing vnder the water.

I beleue certainly that thou ſaiſt truth, for I remēber I haue once eaten at Piſa, of Mullets of .x. or .xij. pounde aMullets. péece, and the one was good as could be, and the other dry like a ſtraw.

And whereof thinkeſt thou it came, but bicauſe the one was yong, and the other olde.

In wine how muſt I gouern▪ myWine. ſelf, for I hear much y• old wine praiſed.

Yea to drink it for a medicine, but to nouriſhe, it would not paſſe oneOlde. yeare. For though it waxeth more hot and ſtrong, yet it hathe loſt that moiſtneſſe naturall, the which doth recreate, and ſéemes muche to comfort man.

Certainly y• haſt taught me a way to liue, which if I kepe, I beleue to liue xx. yeres lōger, than I ſhold haue done.

It is not inough to be noriſhed after this ſort ſpoken of before, but alſo thou muſt ſéeke wt al diligence, to cōfort & helpe y• vital ſpirits, which be in thée,Vitall ſpirites. for thy great yeares muche debilitate.

How ſhold I do that I know not?

With things that cōforte, with exerciſe, with diet, with mery life, and without thought.

Bicauſe the ſeate of thoſe ſpirits is principally in the hart, and fromHeart. thence be diſperſed by all the members, thou oughteſt to vſe all the things that comfortes, among the which the Mirobolane, is ſo fit, as ſome ſaye, that they be the trée of life, put in Paradiſe for the foode of man. Many hearbes alſo beHearbes. much to y• purpoſe, as Mint & Borage, and ſome Spicery, as Canel, Saffron,Spices. & many other, which thou mayſt vnderſtand of thy ſelfe, and of them that haue wrytten of the conſeruation of the life of olde men. But I will not thou trouble thy ſelfe in vſing certaine ſuperſtitions,Superſtition • (for ſo wil I call them) that they wryte, as though mans milk, and yong mens bloud wer drinkable, which they wil haue drawn at the ful Moone out of y• left arme, and y• they be mery, tēperat & ſound, & then vſe it ſodden wt ſuger.

No, this wil I neuer do, I wold chooſe rather to die, than liue with ſuch vaine trifles.

Theſe be of the ſame ſuperſtition, wherof I will not thinke, for I thinke they be of men, that too much deſire to liue.

It were alſo good for the increaſe of this naturall heate, that thou ſhouldeſt ſometime make exerciſe, butExerciſe. no longer than thou féeleſt ſweate comming and a wearineſſe, ſéeking in winter warme and caulme places, as herds and flockes doe, and in Sōmer, pleaſant and freſh, as the birdes doe: It helpeth much to walke alongſt the riuers running,Riuers. Plants. and among the plants gréene and odoriferous, bicauſe the courſe of water ſéeme to cauſe an appetite of eating, & the odor that the liuely plants giue, helpeth much the vitall ſpirits of man, and gréene colour comforts much the ſight.Greene colour.

Be it ſo, but thou muſt know that the nature of ſight is cléere, andSyght. friend of light, but is very eaſie to be put abroade and diſperſed. Therefore when it looketh on things much light, it is diſperſed to much, euen as when it loketh in darkneſſe, which is enimy to it, it fléeth and reſtraineth the beames into a ſmall place. Wherefore ſight deſireth to enioye light, in ſuche ſort as it delighteth, and not diſperſeth, and ſo it can take no comfort or litle, in thoſe colours, y• take more of darke than of light, bicauſe it can not there delight nor ſpread: and of thoſe that takes part too muche of light, it can not lykewyſe take delight without hurt, for ſpreding to much: but the gréene colour only participating temperatelie of cleere and darke, gyueth bothe of the one and the other, that is delights & preſerues with a pleſāt alteration, as doth alſo the clere water, which reſiſteth without offence of the eies, not ſuffring to ſpread al at once: for thyngs that be hard & ſharpe do in a maner cleaue them, & thoſe that be raw, giue thē way to paſſe: but thoſe that haue a thickneſſe in them, & with it a certain pleſāt ſhining, as glaſſes, do not cleaue, nor diſperſe them.

When all is done, he that lyueth, ſhall euer learne.

I wold alſo thou ſhouldſt cō fort thy braine ſometyme with ſweteBrayne. things: for think not that nature, the which as ſhe neuer faileth in thyngs neceſſary, nor aboūds in ſuperfluous, hath made, y• a mā ſhold only take pleſure of odors (for other creatures take no pleaſure in odors further than by eatyng) without any cauſe, rather hathe ſhe done it, that hée wyth that ſhold temper the coldneſſe of his brain the whiche though it be in all beaſtes colde by nature, ſo a man hath it moſt colde, bicauſe he hath it greater, rate for rate, than any other, for as much as he hath to worke by it more operations than any other: and odors be allOdours. hot in themſelues, for they be nought elſe but euaporations that come frō things, and be diſperſed by the aire by the meane of heate.

Oh howe goodly be the ſecrete things of nature? I do not maruell ſurely, y• the more part of them that begin to taſt them, do for ſake many tymes all other doings.

The rule of the diet thou ſhouldeſt vſe for reſtoring of the ſtrēgth of thy ſtomak, it ſelf ſhal teach thée wt deſireStomacke. or refuſing of meat. But I would not for al that, that thou ſholdſt paſſe one of thoſe termes, in the which thou art wōt to take meate, but that thou take ſomwhat: for ye ſtomack, whē he lacketh to eate, either he waſteth him ſelf, or he doth digeſt of thoſe humors, y• make yll blood. And for this purpoſe I thinke it very mete to take y• yelke of an egge new laide, or the crūme of new breade in a glaſſe of good wyne,A ſoppe in Wyne. wherof I can not ſee a thing of nature made more perfect: for it heateth the cold ſtate of the bodie, it refreſheth ye heated, it moyſteth the drye, & drieth the moyſt, it receiueth y• grouded moiſture; and noriſheth the heat natural.

Certainly man may ſée by this how much Nature hath ben friendly to hym, hauing made for him onely, ſo perfect, and ſo precious liquour.

Thou muſte alſo ſée, if thou wilt that we be long togither, that thou putte away Melancolie and penſiueneſſe, which draweth the ſpiritesMelancolie. to the head, takyng them from that part, where they ſhould make digeſtion, and other workes appertinent to preſerue thee.

Certainly thou ſayſt truth, for when I haue any care, I haue no deſire to eate.

Flée to much watche, and tooWatche. Solitarineſſe much ſolitarineſſe, for the one makes thée weake, and the other cauſeth in thée, many tymes wearyneſſe and ſlouth: and yf thou wilte néedes lyue alone, thinke on mery and pleaſaunt things, which may recreate thée, and not deſtroye thee. Seeke ſometime to play, yt may make thee paſſe the tyme,Playe. and do not altogether refuſe ye things that pleaſed thee whē thou wert yong. For it is impoſſible to reuiue the bodie, vnleſſe the wit alſo waxe yong. But vnderſtand thou not by this, that I counſell thee to gyue thy ſelfe to the pleaſures of Venus, for that is cleaneVenus. contrary to thine age, and as muche wolde hurt thee, as it woulde peraduenture help them that are to come: and it woulde happe to thée in vſyng them, as dothe to the Graſſehopper,Graſhopper. which when the newe commeth oute of the olde, they leaue their ſkynne eyther voyde or dead in the earth.

Of this I haue no care: for it were a great fooliſhneſſe to diminiſhe hymſelfe, to encreaſe other.

Surely it were no ſmall errour, knowyng that Nature that attends onely to ſaue hir kinde, by and by as ſhe hath brought forth one, that can get an other like him ſelf, makes no more count but to ſaue hir ſelfe.

Doubt not of this: for I will not ſwarue from thy will.

Theſe be the things y• I deſire thou ſholdſt obſerue (yt we might lyue as lōg as we could togither) & do only appertaine to thee: but to liue merilyMyrth. there be certain other y• appertain to vs both, which although they procede principally from me, yet can I not do them without thy helpe, and if thou let me not do thē: of the which I will ſay ſomwhat how thou oughtſt to gouerne thy ſelfe.

I deſire it much, ſeing (as I haue ſayde vnto thée) it ſéemes vnto mée that all the contentation and quiet that I feele, doth riſe of our lyuing together vnitedly, and in ſuche perfectneſſe of peace.

Theſe yeres of age in y• which thou art, being the laſt (for when thou liueſt til the age decrepite & impotent the ſtrength is ſo diminyſhed, that I can not longer exerciſe in thy members perfectly my operations) euen as the ende is euer more perfect, than the meanes that be ordeined to it, ſo muſt it bée more perfecte and more notable than all the reſt, for as much as many things in our young and luſty yeares, that were worthy of excuſe, be nowe in vs doubly to be reprehēded. Wherfore bicauſe man ought, for that Nature ſo requireth, euer as hée can, to helpe an other, in this age he oughteHelpe other. moſt to do it, and takyng the faſhion of a Roſe that can not remaine ſhut,Roſe. as thy Dant ſayth in the laſt parte of his Banquet, to put forth and ſpreade the odour that it hath gēdred in it ſelf, wherby thoſe vertues that he hath vſed in other ages, and that haue ben in him onely proofes and purgations, ought in this to be exāples & leſſons.

Surely thou ſayeſt truthe: for nowe it ſemeth that of euery litle errour that I committe, I get more blame, than of the great that I did in youth.

All vices be fowle in euery age, but in this they be moſte fowle:Vice in age. and therefore thou oughteſt firſte to ſpoyle thée of all paſſions, and not to giue eare at all to the inſtruments of the ſenſes, but for thy néedes onely: for thou knoweſt we ar ſo faſtned togither, that if thou ſuffereſt thée to be caried away of other, I muſte ſufferPaſsions. my ſelf to be caried away of thée.

I am well diſpoſed ſo to do.

Hauing thus ſubdued thy paſſions not reaſonable, and attendyng onely on my ſeruices, I may exerciſe me with thy great delight, our honor, and the profite of other, in all thoſe vertues that be mete for oure age, among the whiche ye firſt is Prudence, which ſeemeth, that aboue all the otherPrudence. by long experience belongeth to olde men, directing al our operations to a laudable and honeſt end, and neither to wyl nor ſpeake any thing but honeſt, and to prouide to al our nede with reaſon and perfecte iudgement. And beſide this, with the helpe of MemorieMemory. the preſeruer of things paſſed, to iudge wel the preſent, and to counſel and admoniſhe right others: then with Fortitude we ſhal not feare anyFortitude▪ thing, but onely euil and blame worthie, and frākly we ſhal beare aduerſe thyngs, & in proſperitie we ſhal kepe vs firme and conſtant: with TemperaunceTemperāce we ſhall refrain deſire of eche thing that might afterwarde bryng any repentance of it: and with Iuſtice finally, giuing to euery one (as wellIuſtice. in our ſelues as in other) that that is conuenient, we wil direct al our operations.

Oh, what happie lyfe? a God be he, that giuing vs of his grace may mainteyne vs in ſo quiet and caulme maner of liuing.

An other reſon alſo cónſtraineth vs to liue vertuouſly, and that is that it ſéemeth that to olde men it is méete to be wyſe, otherwiſe they bée deſpiſed, and ſo where that age ought to bring them reuerence and honor, it is to them diſpraiſe: and none ſéemeth wiſe, vnleſſe he be cōpted good, though he be not good: for the begynnyng ofWiſedome. Wiſedome is to feare God.

That is moſte true: For as there can not a thing be found, that is better & more profitable to men, than a good man, ſo can there not a thing be found that more hurteth him, than an vniuſt man, of leude and euil conditions, of the which thing a certaine philoſopher conſidering, ſayde, that one man was the woulfe of an other, and not the Woulfe.

We ought alſo to conſider, y• this age bringeth with it a certen authoritie,Authoritie in Age. by the whiche it ſéemeth conuenient, that other men ſhoulde credite him: wherfore we ought to be very gentle in ſpéeche, and to reaſon always of good, to reproue yong mē, yet with a certain ſwéetneſſe, which may cauſe in them rather a loue of good, & an appetite of honour, than a feare of paine, or a dread of ſhame, which we ſhal always wel inough do, if we wil remember that we were once yong men our ſelues, & ſubiect to thoſe willes that that age bringeth with it.

Oh in how fewe reigneth of like age ſuch diſcretion?

Our talk muſt alſo be pleſantTalke. but ciuilly and honeſtly, fléeing alway to lament thoſe incommodities that olde age bryngeth wyth hym, and not to prayſe more than nedes, the tyme in the which we were yong men: for in that age it being pleaſaunt of it ſelfe, a man taketh pleaſure of euery thyng, which ſeme much better than they do in olde age.

Many times all olde men falleth into this errour.

If we dyd otherwyſe, wée ſhoulde be eſchewed of other, and ſo lacke Companie, which is one of theCompanie. greateſt pleaſures that this age hath. Which thing Tullie knowyng, in hys booke of olde age ſayth, in the perſon of Cato the elder, a will and deſire to reaſon more than I was wont, is increaſed in me.

Theſe things be very true.

Yet thys is not inough: for we muſt thinke there is an other life,Other life. to the which we goe continually: for in this we be as pilgrimes that haue no certain Citie, and we be in an age that can not long be from death, ſo as we muſte ſtudie to gaine ſome thing for that place, where we muſt alway remaine.

This is nothyng to my deſire, euery thing had gone wel, if thou haddeſt not ſpoken of death.Death.

Wherfore cometh thys, but that eyther thou art yet to muche gyuen to the worlde, or that thou hopeſt not to goe to a better life? The which ſhall not chaunce to thee, if thou vnite thy ſelf to me: for I that am immortall, ſhal ſhew thée, that this that thouShadow of lyfe. calleſt life, is a ſhado • of life, yea rather a great and continual death.

I can not tell I, but it is ſure a great thing to loſe this being.

Yea, if it ſhould be loſt, but it is not loſte, but rather woonne, eyther a worſe or a better: and it is in oure power by the meane yet of the grace of God, which gyueth to who ſo euer wil haue it, and already hath ſhewed to vs by his great liberalitie, the greateſt parte, in makyng vs to be borne in chriſtian religion.

It is true, and by this that thou ſpeakeſt, dothe diminiſh a little the feare of it.

Let them feare deathe that haue not the light of Faith: for to vs Chriſtians, ſince our Sauior died for vs, it is become but a ſlepe▪ as he ſaid of thoſe dead that he raiſed, that they were not dead, but they ſlepte, out of the which ſlepe we being awaked by his grace ſhal returne into a more frée being, without any perturbation.

Well go too then, and be thou ſure I will aſſuredly beleue thée.

We then muſt do as that wiſe Merchant, which going into a certainMerchant. prouince to gaine, and the time of his return to his contrey drawyng nigh, doth diſpoſe and order all his things, & then ſatiſfie either with dedes or wordes, all them that he thynketh be in any meane burdened by him, that departing with good grace, he may be after of euery man thankefully & with more honor receiued in his countrey.

This certainely dothe not diſpleaſe me.

We muſt therfore diſpoſe, that the ſubſtance whiche we haue in oureOur goodes. handes, may come to them that they ought after oure ſeparation (that no contention bée for them, whiche thou knoweſt to be great and troubleſom) but ſo as we do neuer lack that is neceſſary, & ſo take from them the loue, that though we ſaw ſome not go wel, it ſhould not trouble vs, thinking that thoſe ſhould go euil that were theirs, and not oures. For he that liueth inRyches. Riches with feare to loſe them continually, is poore. Thē diſcourſing with memorie, our life paſſed, we ſhal ſéeke to ſatiſfy al we haue offēded any way, and as the good Mariner whē he drawethMariner. nigh the port, we wil ſtrike ſail of our worldly operatiōs, & returne, to God. We wil leaue al ſtudy, & onely y• litle, that this age wil beare, we wil exerciſe in holy letters, of the ſtudieHoly letters. of the which ſhal grow in vs a liuelyFaith. faith, informed of charitie, by whicheHope. we ſhal loue God aboue al things, andCharitie. our neighbor as ourſelf, with a certen hope of the merites of Chriſt, that as ſure of our helth without any perturbation we ſhall go to death.

Al theſe things but one do pleſe me, and that is, y• calling again wt memory of y• life paſſed, for in doing ſo I know y• we ſhal find to haue offended God ſo ſore and ſo ofte, that it will bring vs feare, and not truſt in death as thou ſayeſt.

This might well come vnto vs, if Chriſt had not, as he hath, borneChriſte. all our ſynnes vpon him, and had not promiſed to pardō vs euery tyme that we returne to him, and ſayd vnto vs, that he loueth vs much more than the carnall fathers do their ſonnes.

Wilt not thou, that he ſhoulde be angrie with vs euery time we ſin?

When we ſinne? No: but when we perſeuer in ſinne, and wyll neuer acknowledge him for our God. Yea, tell me if a Grauer will not bée angrie, ſéeing his pictures, if they be not holden vp fal and euer go downe, bycauſe hée made them of a matter which hath that inclination? wouldeſt thou that God ſhould be angrie wyth vs, when we ſinne, whiche knoweth much better that he hathe made vs of this fleſhe ſo much inclined & prompte to ſinne, as we can not but ſynne, rather doing otherwiſe, we ſhould be no men? But bicauſe he knoweth that to will, and not to will, is ours, it ſuffiſethWill. him, after that we be ſory (ſo it be from the heart) that we haue offended hym: & therfore let vs take héede that the ſinne we doe, do not riſe in vs of malice, but be of the infirmities and inclination of the fleſh: y• returning after to him, we may ſay for our excuſe together with the Prophet.

With what boldneſſe ſhall we euer goe before his face, hauing ſo oft offended him, by our ſinne and diſobedience?

With that, with the which, the ſonne alwayes, goeth to his father, although he hath ben very diſobedient, it he will yelde himſelfe in his faulte. For although the father whiles he is abſent and ſéeth him not, waxeth cruel againſt him, ſo ſone as be ſéeth him turne again to him, & repente that he hath offended agaynſt his will, he féeles growing i • him by the meane of fatherly loue, a pitie ſo ſwéete, toward his ſonne, that although he force to ſhewe himſelfe to be angry wyth hym, yet he can not, but wyll ſhewe ſome ſigne of loue to hys Sonne in his countenance, and in the ende leaue his Ire, and receiue him in the place of a ſonne. Haſt thou not readProdigall childe. in the Goſpel of the Prodigal child, the which being departed from his fathers cure, and hauing done away al the part of his heritage, which he had of hys father, fell into great miſerie and wante, and remembring his fathers houſe, determined to return thither, who being come before his Father, of two things that he thought to haue ſpoken; he ſayd but one: that is, that he had ſinned before God & him, and that he aſked pardon: the other that he would haue ſayd, was, that if he wold not receiue him for his ſonne, at leaſte he would take hym for a ſeruant, but he ſpake it not?

And why?

For ſo ſodainly as he ſpake, ther apéered in his fathers face, ſo great a fatherly loue, that he knew he would neuer ſuffer hym to be among his ſeruants, whiles he ſtode vnder obedience of his father, but would reſtore him to the degrée of his ſonne: wherfore he put him ſelfe liberally into hys armes, leauing to him to thinke that that he wold doe.

Thou doſt comfort me, and encorage me (my ſoule) with theſe thy conſiderations, that I wil not ſay I deſyre death, but I may well ſay that I haue not ſo great feare of it as I had.

The more thou ſhalte remember thou haſte euery houre folowed thy ſenſes, & I folowing thée cōmitted greater errors, the more ſhal we be afraid of our ſelues: & as he y• knoweth the more infirmities he hath, with ſo much moreSicke man. ſpéede and care he runs to the phiſitian, ſo with ſinceritie ſhal we run to Chriſt, that can only heale vs: and remēbring that he that hath ſuffred for vs, is our aduocate, and he that ſhall iudge vs, we ſhal haue no feare at all of our condemnation, being for all that in continuall fear, and in great care, as much as lyeth in our power, no more to offende.

Thou haſte giuen me this morning, my Soule, ſo great comfort; that where before there was nothing that more troubled me than death: nowe I haue none other feare, but that myne vnperfect nature can not flée, the whych forcing me from henceforth not to diſſent from thy commaundements, I wil ſubmit me to thy yoke, and will accorde me to all that thou ſhalte counſell me, thinking that that muſt be my health.

That is it that I deſire aboue al thing: and in this good purpoſe I wil that thou ryſe and goe to thy worke, for the Sunne is now a good heighth.

Although I féele none euill, and thou my ſoule doeſt not trouble • e, yet haue I other cares that ſuffer me not to ſléepe.

What cares can they be? tell me ſéeing we be agréed, tell me what it is (thāked be the libertie & the ſtrength that God hath giuen vs) that can hurte vs, but only he? or who can worke ſuch griefe or payne, as may take vs from our good purpoſe?

Who? they that worke woe to euery man, the World and Fortune.

Theſe be things eaſy to be ſpoken, but to doe them, more is required than words: tel me, how can a man flée Enuie, which is euer borne againſt good men, of the which ryſeth euery day a thouſand things diſpleaſant?

Doth Enuie anoy thée, and is • auie. it that that makes thou canſt not ſléepe.

It is: for ſince by thy counſel I haue brought my ſelfe to this mery and quiet lyfe, ſuch Enuie hath ben borne me that I can not endure. One ſayth what thinketh he he is? is he any better thā a Couper? An other ſayth, I eſteme no man, and nothing can pleaſe me. An other ſayth, I thinke my ſelfe too wyſe, and that I wyll reproue euery man: and in effect I am ſo enuied, that euery man is a griefe vnto me, & that I can abide in no place.

Thou art fallen into a talke, wherin before this time I haue wiſhed to deale wyth thée, to delyuer thée of this thy falſe opinion, for I perceyued well thou wert awry, but nowe I wyll that we tell truth, & not one to deceyue an other, willing it to be vnderſtode, that we haue done for the cōmoditie of other, that which we haue done for our ſelues. And I will not doe now, as our neyghboure didde, whych, after he was broken, being reprehended of ſome of his creditours, that he ſpente too much, he woulde make them beleue he dydde it for theyr ſakes, that he myght be in health and able to pay them, for he that is deceiued of himſelfe, ſhal eaſely be deceiued of other.

I doe not deſire other thing, but that thou wouldſt tell me truth, as I am diſpoſed to doe to thée.

What Enuie is it that thou ſayſt is borne thée?

What enuy? haue I not tolde thée, that it ſéemeth that euery one a whyle ſince doe diſprayſe me, and ſay euyll of me, and doe not eſtéeme me as they wer wont? This can not be other wyſe but for the enuie they beare me, bicauſe I lyue ſo contented in this my ſtate, as it is, and that I paſſe the tyme ſo merily, and with ſuch quietneſſe as I doe.

All is, whether it be Hate or Enuie that they beare thée.

What is that the matter?

Yes, for Enuie comes of an euillEnuie. intention of him that enuieth, and hatred of ſome fault that is in the thingHate. hated: But knoweſt thou wher of it cometh theiſeme to thée both one? bicauſe both of them is contrary to loue & beneuolence, which is nothing elſe but a wil & deſire of the weale of our neighbour.

Surely I thought they had ben all one thing, and that there was lyttle difference.

O thou beginneſt to make me vnderſtande the truthe.

The hate may be ſometime iuſt and reaſonable, but enuie neuer. And that is, bicauſe a man may iuſtly hate the euill things, but he can not with reaſon euer enuie the good, but when they haue it that doe not deſerue it: but that is no enuie. This iudgement muſt be left to God, that can not erre, & therfore many ſhal confeſſe they haue ſome in hate, ſhewing that he deſerues it, but no man, or ſeldome, will confeſſe he beares enuie to any man, but rather when he doeth it, he wil ſéeke wayes to couer it, ſaying he hateth, affirming that he which hateth not euil, deſerueth blame.

Certainely, all that thou telleſt me, is true.

We ſée alſo, when they whom thou hateſt, fal in miſerie, or infelicitie, thou ceaſeſt to enuie them. But hate doeth not ſo, but euer foloweth him, who is hated, in what eſtate ſo euer he be.

This alſo is true.

Further, hate faileth as oft as thou art perſuaded, that he whom thou hateſt is good, or that he hath done thée no iniurie: where as enuie, the better he is ſpoken of, whom thou enuieſt, the more thine enuie increaſeth.

It is truthe.

This is well ſéene true euery day, yet giftes haue many times ſuche force, as of enimies they make friends.

Then it is not to be maruelled, though they doe many times corrupt iuſtice.

Our friend ſaid wel, which was to pleſant wt this deuiſe, yt he only ioyed in preſent ſtate, bicauſe y• time paſt was gone, & the time to come was vncerten.

Hate finally, til the thing hated be vtterly extinct, perſecuteth euer, as we ſée many times one enimy to an other, wheras enuie ſo ſoone as felicitie faileth in him whom he enuieth, ceaſeth ſtraight: and thou knoweſt Iuſt, when it commeth properly of enuie, as of a houſe, the which bicauſe it is too highe, kéepes y• light from thée, which anoyeth thée, whiles it is ſo high, but when it is made lower, thou careſt no more,

This ſimilitude hath wel ſatiſfied me.

Art thou yet certain, that hate and enuie be not one thing?

I am.

And that the cauſe of enuie, or to ſay better, the fault, is in the enuier, and riſeth in him of his nature euil, hauing enuie (as I haue ſayd) only to the felicitie of an other, where in hate, it is in the thing hated, the which is naught to thée or to an other, or ſo ſéemeth, hating only the euill, or that doeth the iniurie?

This I graunt.

Then tel me, what be thy felicities, or what partes haſte thou to be enuied?

I can not tel, I liue quietly, cō • ented with that little that I haue, and am not ſo careful for the world, as moſt men be.

This may euery man doe as well as thou.

It may peraduenture be, bicauſe I liue quietly after my ſtate. And biſides this, I haue ſome qualitie more than other, and haue frendes that make accompt of me.

This is the leſſe cauſe, for though thou art well to liue, according to thy calling, yet thou art not rich: and the rich be they that be enuied. Againe,The riche enuied. though thou mayſt be called witty, and of good iudgement by my help & worke, yet thou art not excellent, that any man might enuie thée therefore. If vertue may be enuied, if Nobilitie of bloud, of parents, or of ſtate, I am moſt certaine that thou doubteſt not, vnleſſe thou be a foole, nor for thy friendes, not hauing ſuche as might make thée to be repined, many of them being worſe thā thy ſelf.

Wherof comes it then, that they grudge at me?

That is the very thing I thought to tell thée, that we bothe conſidering theſe things, and the occaſions, might auoide the cares that come thereby, the little time we haue héereafter to liue.

And that is the thing that I deſire to know, therefore tell me what I muſt doe, not to faile?

Knowe (Iuſt,) among other things, of defecte and want which olde age bringeth with it. It bréedeth in him that knoweth not him ſelf wel, ſuch an opinion of him ſelfe, that makes him think him ſelf wiſer than he is, wherby he ceaſeth not to praiſe him ſelfe, & his things, & to blame without all modeſty other mens, to reproue, without all diſcretion yong men, not remēbring what he did when he was yong, as they be.

Is not an olde man wiſer than other, though for nothing elſe, but for his experience?

Yes: but all is, wiſely to vſe his wiſdome in time, where and when it is conuenient. For doing otherwiſe, in chaunge of reuerence and honor, he getteth diſpraiſe and hate, of the which thing y• maiſt wel take exāple of thy ſelf

What doe I, wherof this ſhould come?

I wil tell thée, thou art ſo vainglorious of thy ſelf, that thinking thou haſt no péere, thou deſpiſeſt and contemneſt all men. And thou wilt ſtand ſome time in reaſoning, as one that deceue • t thy ſelf much, that there is none y• knoweth ſo much as thou, & certaine of thy friends: in maner, as by this ſo vain arrogancie, thou haſt got a great ſorte of enimies, which ſtand alwayes wt their eyes turned vpon thée, to ſée if thou doe amiſſe, that they might make it euidēt to other: & they be thoſe, thou ſayeſt doe beare thée enuie, which can not be, yu hauing nothing, yt deſerues to be enuied, but hate they may well, bicauſe of thy vſage to them. Neuertheleſſe, if yu wilt folow my counſell, thou ſhalt make the moſt part of them thy frends, & of them that wilnot, thou ſhalt got ſome profit:Profite of enimies. for to haue ſome enimie i • good.

Wherto can an enimy • e good?

What profite can be gotten of enimies?

I wil tel thée Firſt thy enimies doe thee this good: as the ſcoute & garde of a citie beſieged, giues aduiſe to him that hath charge of al that might offēd, ſo they ſtanding alwayes waking to obſerue thy behauior, they aduiſe thée by ſpeaking euill, and reprehendyng all that thou doeſt, of all that thou oughteſt to take heede.

So do alſo true friends.

They doe: But bicauſe the loue they beare thee, dothe ſometime blind them, they ſee not many tymes thoſe wantes whiche the enuious ſee. And although they do ſee, yet being of thy part, they excuſe thē. And ſo ſomtime they wil call craft policie, which thine enimie will call plaine malice, or fraude. Is not he therfore to be ſet by, that markyng all thy operation, might reproue thée of all thine error? And is not this able to work a knowledge in thée of ſuch prudence, y• thou maiſt euer regard what thou doſt, and reſtrain thy ſelf, at the leſt with fear, and euer liue vertuouſly & honeſtly?

It is true, that a man hath more feare to erre in the ſight of his enimie than of his friende.

Therefore it is good to haue both friends and enimies, that at leſt feare may draw thée from that which might work thy ſhame. Which thing Scipio Naſica well knewe, when hée hearde one ſaye, that the Romane eſtate was in moſt ſuretie, bicauſe the Grekes were brought to bondage, and Carthage ouercome: Rather is it (ſayd he) nowe in moſt great peril, bicauſe they haue nowe no more whome to feare or reuerence.

Oh goodly ſaying, and worthy ſo good a man.

And ſo ennimies (doing as he that would haue ſtryken Prometheus of Theſsalia, did cut an impoſtume that he had, and healed him) many times beleuing to hurt, they do thée good.

Wilt thou not graūt me that it is better to haue frends thā enimies?Friendes.

Yes, and ſpecially when they are faithful, nothing in the world eyther more ſwéete or profitable than true frēdſhip. Neuertheleſſe enimies ſerue many times to ſtirre thée wyth their bitter words, which frends with their gētle reprehētion do not. Beſide they aduiſe a man of certaine cōmon faults, which friends ſeldome know.

Of thys I know thou ſayſt wel.

Enimies alſo helpe to this, that in ſuffring both them and the iniuries they doe thée, a man is acquainted the better to beare the troubles that come in the care of houſeholde, and in rulyng eyther hym ſelfe, or hys familie, whereby it ſéemeth not ſo ſharpe vnto thée, if Fortune gyue thee eyther a ſhreude wife or children of euil condition, or beaſtly brethren, and ſo ar no leſſe profitable to thée thā thy friendes: for as thou learneſt of thy friends by their conuerſation, benignity, magnanimitie, & many other vertues, thou learneſt by bearing thy enimies, mildeneſſe & pacience, which howe nedeful it is in this world, thou knoweſt, euery houre ſomewhat hapning that diſpleaſeth vs.

That is often ſene, and be ſure troubles inowe in euery one.

How woldeſt thou then, that I ſhold gouern me, with theſe thou ſpekeſt of, that haue me ſo in hate, for I wil now beleue it is ſo, for the ſtrong reaſons that thou haſt made therin.

I will tell thee: thou muſt doe two things, one of the which, and the more of weight, pertaineth to thy ſelf and that is, that thou take away all thoſe cuſtomes and maners, of which may procéede this hate, whiche they beare thee, as to deſpiſe or to contemn any perſon, and to blame other mens things, and the preſēt time, and thoſe maners y• be vſed now a days, though thou be otherwiſe affected.

Shoulde I not blame thyngs when they bee not well? If I ſhoulde doe ſo, they woulde ſay I vnderſtode nothing.

I will, if thou wilte get the name of a wiſe or prudent man, that thou doe it with woorkyng, and not with reprouing, for that is the waye which the ignorant vſeth, and malicious: and when thou ſéeſt a thing that ſtandes not well, it is inough not to praiſe it, and learne of our Punturino, who, though there be fewe in this age, that can compare with hym in painting, neuer blames any other mēs works, vnleſſe he be forced to ſay his iudgemēt in a caſe. Praiſe thoſe that thou praiſeſt, moderatly, y• no diſdayn grow among them of that ſciēce, y• are not praiſed of thée. And in ſumme, lay away y• opinion thou haſt of thy ſelfe to be wiſer than other, for that wold make thée litle to eſtéeme other, & the things that do not depēd of thée, wherby thou ſhouldeſt be called raſhe or proude: & thou maiſt wel do it, when thou thinkeſt other be men as wel as thy ſelfe.

This I can eaſily beléeue, for I neuer founde man yet but in ſome thing knew more than my ſelfe.

And when it ſhall happē that thou defēdeſt an opinion againſt ſome other, do it as modeſtly as thou canſt, praiſing always him that doth as our maiſter Pier Francis Iambulari, a man certainely of no leſſe good iudgement than great learning in his operation, wherin he hath with maruellous arte founde the ſcite and meaſure of Dants Hell, where beyng forced to ſpeake againſt Anton Manetti, who hath alſo writen, but not ſo perfectly, ſaith, that if death had not preuented his honeſt trauailes, he ſhould not haue neded to haue taken this paine, Manetto being a man mete to bring a greater thing to perfection than that.

Surely this was a way, and a ſcuſe, in reprouyng of hys opinion, much to be commended.

Thou muſt alſo, when thou reproueſt any man, do it gently: and aboue all, be ſure, neuer to reproue any of them y• be more cūning thā thy ſelf: for doing otherwiſe, thou ſhalte many tymes heare that thou wouldeſt not. As it hapt to Francis kyng of France, when he was in Bononia withFrancis of Fraunce. Pope Leo, whome reprouing for hys ſumptuouſneſſe, and ſaying, the ancient Byſhops lyued in more ſimplicitie and pouertie, Leo anſwered: that was when Kyngs kepte ſhéepe. And the Kyng replying, that hée ſpake of Biſhops of the new teſtament, and nor of the old: Leo againe anſwered: that was, when kyngs gouerned the poore in hoſpitalles with their owne hands, meaning ſainct Lewes his predeceſſour.

Surely, none other anſwere was conuenient.

Thē thou muſt always ſpeke honourably of them, and when it is tolde thée that any ſpeaketh euill of thée, then do thou ſpeake wel of them, excuſyng them ſaying, y• they doe not knowe thée, that ſo ſaye of thée, and therfore do not deſerue to be blamed. And if thys will not helpe with them, (whyche abſolutely will helpe, for to heare that one ſayeth well, although thou knoweſt he ſayth falſe, it delites thée) it ſhall helpe in the ſight of the vniuerſall, whiche hearyng that thou ſayeſt well of them that ſpeake euyll of thée, they wyll thinke thée a man of a good mynde: and then ſtudie to mayntayne thys good opynion wyth good behauiour: and if thou wouldeſt nedes be reuenged of thē, whom thou thinkeſt to be thine en • imies, this is the beſt waye, bicauſe (as Diogenes ſayd) the true way of reuengemente with thy enimies, is to become from time to time better.

Theſe thy counſels, although they be contrary to the cōmon way of life, yet they pleaſe me muche.

Canſt not thou, being a chriſtian man, be cōtent to do it for euery man, as a man ought to do it? yea, I wil further, that thou loue thine enimies: for in this onely conſiſteth the perfection of our lawe, and in this, it paſſeth in goodneſſe all other: for wher the other graunt a man may doe iniury to him that doth it to thée, our law, deſiring to make man good, will not only thou pardon thine enimies, but alſo thou loue them.

O how can a man do that? thou haſt told me, that he that doth thée iniurie, thou hateſt.

Howe ſhoulde I loſe it, is it mine?

Thine? yea, and who douteth, that is a chriſten man?

Which way?

Tell me, when doeth the inheritance of the father come to the ſonnes?

So ſoone as he dieth.

Then Paradiſe was oures as ſoone as Chriſt died for vs, if that reaſon were good. But▪ thou haſt not ſayd wel in that, y• the heritage of a father is his ſonnes as ſoone as he is borne, and that none other thing doeth make him heire, but being a ſonne, nor that the father ſeeketh for other thing to haue children, but to haue to whome to leaue his inheritāce. And ſo we, as ſoone as we be borne the ſonnes of God, and brethren of Chriſte by baptiſme and faithe, we be ioyntely heires wyth hym of the Kyngdome of Heauen. And by this cauſe, a babe that ſodainely dieth, ſo ſoone as he is baptiſed, goeth to Paradiſe, whiche is his onely, bycauſe he is the ſonne of God, and not by any other merite, he neuer hauing done any meritorious déede.

If Paradiſe be ours, what néede we then doo any good?

Yes, it is neceſſarie, not to gayne the heritage of Heauen, which is oures by the merites of Chriſt, as I haue ſayde, but bycauſe that wée ſhoulde not gyue an occaſion to our Father of Heauen, to diſenherite vs, as all children doe, which behaue thēſelues euill toward theyr fathers. Therfore a man muſt do good workes onely to the glorie and honor of God, folowing Chriſt, which wrought wel whiles he was in this world, onely to do the will of his father: ſo ought we to worke wel, to do his will (and not to degenerate and want of that is cō uenient, wée beyng children of a father ſo good, ſo liberall, and ſo gentle)Workes. but not gaine by them Paradiſe: for it is not conuenient, that oure workes which be temporall and haue ende, ſhoulde haue for rewarde the glory of heauen, which is eterne and infinite: and it is not inough not to doe euill, but thou muſt doe well, for he that is not with hym, is agaynſt hym, and beſides ſheweth hym ſelfe vnkinde of ſo great liberalitie, which God hathe ſhewed towarde vs.

Thou haſte thys mornyng my ſoule, kindeled in my hearte ſuche a loue towarde my creator, that I am ſory I euer dydde thyng that myght diſpleaſe hym, ſeing he hath ben ſo liberall and ſo gentle towarde me.

This is it that I deſire aboue all other thyngs: for thys ſhall make thée worke as it behoueth a free child, and not as a ſeruaunt for ſcare: and in this good purpoſe, I will that to the honoure and glorye of hym, wée make an ende of this mornyngs talke.

O my Soule, thou ſaiſt truth, & I am ſo comforted, y• me think I came but now to bed. But what is yt cauſe I haue ſlept better now thā I am wont? I pray thée tell me the cauſe if thou canſt.

If I ſhould aunſwer thée, the diſpoſition of the heauen, which paraduenture now is in a being much appropriate to the temperature of thy complexion, thou mightſt aunſwer me, that this is y• aunſwere of y• ignorant, which not knowing the particular cauſes of things, bringeth forth euer vniuerſall, aūſwering to thē y• aſke thē, God & the heauen wil haue it ſo. Wherefore comming to y• perticularitie wherwith our deſire is quieted, I ſay y• thy temperate ſéeding hath ben the cauſe, which thou didſt vſe yeſternight, whereby the quā titie of thy nutrimēt, not hauing ouercome the force of the heate, that ought to ſéeth it, there hath riſen in thée no trouble, & euerie power hath ben able to doe his office liberally. So as if thou ſléepeſt not ſo other nights, the fault is many times of thy fragilitie, and not of thyne age, which as I haue ſayd vnto thée, doth not deſerue to be blamd more than the other which thou haſt paſſed.

Wouldeſt thou make me vnderſtand, that olde age, which is the receipt of troubles, ſhould be good?

I wil not make thée beleue any thing, but I will onely ſhew thée the truth, which thing I ſhall well doe this morning, bicauſe thou haſt ſo well repoſed thy ſelf, as thou art more hable to vnderſtande reaſon now, than when thou haſt by ſome accident altered thy humors, and troubled thy ſpirites.

I wil heare thée with a good wil truely, for I know that of euery opiniō be it neuer ſo muche againſt reaſon, a man learneth ſomewhat. But I ſhall deſire thée, yt thou wilt not doe as they, whoſe purpoſe is only to perſuade, vſing all reaſon and coniecture, being neuer ſo falſe, ſo it haue any meane to obtaine their deſire.

Doubt not of this, for I ſhuld doe thée too muche iniurie, and whome ſhould I deceiue but my ſelfe, being ſo vnited with thée, that muſt haue the ſame fortune?

Then thou ſhalt doe thy duetie, and when thou wouldeſt doe otherwiſe, I ſhould yelde a recompence contrary, and doe to thée, as he did to the frier maiſter of the reueſtrie in the Anuntiata, who wold haue bought a candle to haue offred to that image for a vowe, and the frier ſaying to him, take one of theſe that be here in the churche, and giue the mony which thou ſhouldſt ſpend, to the reueſtrie: then giuing him a bunche of candles in his hande, ſaid: take which thou wilt, and it ſhall be as good as if thou hadſt euen now put it in the altare. The mā doing as y• frier bad him, ſaid: now touche you this purſe, wherin my money is, and it ſhal be euē as good vnto you, as if you had it, and ſo the one was euen with the other.

Iuſt, let theſe toyes goe, for I tell thée certainly, that I ſhal make thée vnderſtand, yt olde age doth not deſerue to be blamed, nor called a worſe age, thā any of the other. And that thou mightſt better vnderſtand, mark what wants it hath, or wherof men do blame it, and I wil ſhew thée how much both thou and they be deceiued, for I otherwiſe could not defend it, not knowing any wāt in it. And whē I haue deliuered it of thoſe blames, then will I ſhew the praiſes of it, and I hope in the end, that it ſhall no leſſe pleaſe thée to be olde than yong.

If ther wer none other thing but this, yt we olde men be not only litle eſtemed, but rather ſcorned of euery one, doſt yu not think yt old age is an il thing?

Yes if it came of hir ſelf, but if thou conſidereſt wel, to whom this happeneth, yu ſhalt ſée it procedeth not of old age, but of them ſelues, which hauing had little accōpt of their honor in their life, haue bene cauſe that mē giue them not that reuerēce yt they ought to haue, wherby if they be in litle reputation wt other, their behauior is the fault, & not their age. So as if thou haſt none other cauſe to blame hir, this is worthe nothing, but rather diſcouereth what thy maners be, or haue ben, yt cauſeth their blame in their olde age.

Yes I haue reaſōs too many, but bicauſe I ſée I cā neuer proue any with thée, I will not ſpeake them, but yelde to thée, and will alſo (if I can) force my ſelf to beleue thée, for if I could do ſo, it wer much to my cōfort, for ther is not a better thing in the world, thā for a man ſometime to deceiue himſelfe, thinking he is wiſe or faire, or ſuche like. And he that is in this caſe, enioyeth the world, without any care.

Yea, to fooles it hapneth ſo.

Let theſe reaſons goe, for they be not conuenient to our nature, and muche leſſe to thy age: and ſince thou wilt not ſpeake, heare me, for I wil not faile to doe that I haue promiſed.

I ſhall gladly doe it, for it is ſo much betwixt this and day, that I ſhold be ſo idle, and that would irke me.

Iuſt, I haue many times cōſidered with my ſelf y• al thoſe things wher by they blame olde age, (for thou knoweſt with old men the other do not much kéepe company, bicauſe they of one age, are euer glad to talke togither) may be reduced to foure cauſes that be principall of all, and by the meane of age, reputed noyſome and grieuous of euery man.

Which be they?

The firſt is, that it maketh them vnméete to do things: y• ſecōd, it makes their body weak: the third, it depriueth them of pleaſures: the fourth, that he is nighe death.

Thinkeſt thou then, that they blame it without cauſe?

Yea ſure, and that thou maiſt know the truthe with thine errour, let vs firſt examine diligently this their opinion: and to begin with the firſt, tell me, what things be they whereunto a man is made more vnapt by age?

What be they? euen all.

I would not haue thée ſay ſo, for thou art wrōg: but wilt thou know which they be, only they that be done by force, & they be rather méete for beaſtes than for men, the greater parte of the which be made of greater force thā we be for our ſeruice, that they might caſe vs of ſuperfluous trauaile, & to vs ſhe hath giuen wit, to ſerue our ſelues with it. So if thou conſidereſt wel, thou ſhalt ſée that the greater parte of theſe operations, y• haue néede of much force, be things ſeruile, & all wiſe men makes them to ſerue for thoſe turnes. But the great things which be of importance, be not done with force, but with councell & wiſdome, of the which things olde age doth moſt abound.

And what makeſt thou of Art of warre, thinkeſt thou that can be done without force?

No, but in this, many times councell and prudence doeth more than force.

Whom canſt thou make beleue that, that wher néede is to do, he is more profitable, that ſitteth & ſaith nothing, than he, that beſtirreth his hands?

All they that haue ſo muche knowledge, or become ſo prudent by experience of things, which knowe it is cléere, that it is much more hard well to know how to commaund and gouerne, than to do well and obey. For ſtanding in this thy opinion, there ſhould folow that he were more profitable in a ſhip, that roweth, or hales, or ſpreade ſailes, thā the maſter that gouerns al, for they worke, and he ſtands and commaunds.

What ſhould he doe, that commaundeth, if he had not that did obey?

Fewer faultes a great deale, than they ſhould, if they had not one to commaund them: therfore if thou conſireſt wel, thou ſhalt ſée few cities maintained in felicitie, but y• be gouerned of old men. For although yong men ſomtime augmēt, yet cā they not maintain, for yong mē be caried with Wil, which in them is like the thirſt y• a great ague bringeth with it, whereby they ſuffer themſelues to be ouercome of loue, of anger, or of many other paſſions, which y• age hathe. And further, they be ſo ambitious & deſirous of praiſe, that many times they aduēture inconſideratly vpon enterpriſes ſo hard and daungerous▪ that they bring away no leſſe hurt than ſhame. And that that is worſe, they be cruel, and put hope in euery litle thing, they make little accompt of their owne, they import their ſecretes to euery mā, whereby it is an eaſie thing to deceiue them. The which thing hapneth not to olde men, which for their long experience, and for that they haue oft ben deceiued of things of the worlde, they put not ſo raſhly themſelues to perill, they tell not ſo eaſily their minde, they beleue little and hope leſſe. And bicauſe they haue learned how hard a thing it is to get riches, they caſt them not awaye as yong men doe, but make ſtore of thē, to haue when néede ſhall require.

And ſo the moſt parte become couetous, berieuing them ſelues of that liberality, wherof there is nothing foūd ſo profitable for man, and chiefly to thē that ſhall gouerne other, for it cauſeth that men ſerue them for loue, and euery man knoweth that rule that is done by loue, is muche more ſure and durable, than that is done by force.

That thou thinkſt in yong mē liberalitie, is for the moſt part prodigalitie: for young men giue eaſily to them that praiſe them, or bring them any delight, where olde men bycauſe they are more prudente, and knowe things better, giue more to whom is conuenient: in the which thyng, liberalitie proprely cōſiſteth. So as thou ſéeſt howe much thou art deceiued, to ſay, that age maketh a man leſſe apt to do things, wher as it maketh them more experte and prudent, with the which vertues (as I ſayd before) only great affaires be done.

Wel be it ſo as thou haſt ſaid, which in dede I wil not vtterly deny: for abiding of trauel is rather a thing of beaſts, than of men, to whom counſel and diſcourſe belongeth: wilt thou denie me, that old Age doth not bring wt it ſo many infirmities, as it ſo enfeebleth mans bodie, yt it is to be ſhoonned, and deſerues to be blamed.

How wil you proue that?

What néede I labor in it, for experiēce wil make thée certaine? ſéeſt thou not that there die more children than yong men, and how fewe they be that come to olde age?

Certainely in this thou haſte reaſon, for I do not beleue, that of thē y• be borne, two of the hundred comes to fiftie yeares.

And wherof thinkeſt thou, cometh that, but that thoſe ages be ſubiect to more dangerous diſeaſes than olde age is?

I cā not tel, but this I ſée, there dieth ſo many yong, y• there remaines but a fewe olde.

Well I will graunt thée, that olde age hath not more of theſe daungerous infirmities, than hath any other age, but of certaine coughes, catarres, palſeis, and other diſeaſes which yong men haue not, and olde men be full: what ſayſt thou now?

I ſay vnto thée, that they rather come of them ſelues, than of age.

How ſo?

If thou conſidereſt well the life of ſuche as now be, or haue bene in that age, thou ſhalt know it of thy ſelfe, for thou ſhalt finde them men, which either not cōſidering their age, and how leſſe their power is, to that they were yong, they wil drinke and eate as muche as they were wont, or peraduenture more, whereby nature for that occaſion not being hable to make diſgeſtion, genders in them that ſuperfluitie, that cauſeth theſe accidents: or elſe in their youth haue made ſo many diſorders, yt they haue gotten theſe euyls, which ſhew them ſelues in age, whē they be more weak of nature: but an olde man that conſidereth well his vertue, howe muche and what it is, and liues orderly thervnto, eating and drynkyng onely ſo much as may reſtore his ſtrēgth, and not oppreſſe hym, would lyue muche more hole, than a yong mā. And thou knoweſt I haue many times taughte thée what way to vſe in it.

Then if an olde man wyll be hole, he muſt marke ſo many things, as he ſhal loſe all his cōtentation: for ſo thou haſt confeſſed of thy ſelfe, that this other blame, whiche we gyue to this age, that it takes away all pleaſure, is not giuen for naught.

Let vs procede in order, that thou maiſt ſe thou haſt not yet caught me. Doeſt thou not remember that that I haue ſaid an other time, that eating and drinkyng, and other thyngs cōming of ſome lack, be no pleaſures but as a man hath néede, for when he is ſuffiſed, they be vnpleaſant to him.

If theſe be no pleaſures, there be ynow of other, that are taken from hir, that ſhe may well be blamed, and without reſpect.

Rather ought ſhe to be prayſed moſt, for if thou conſidereſt well, ſhe depriues only thoſe that be reprouable in other ages.

That will not I graunte: for a man that can haue no pleaſure in the world, is as though he wer not.

True: but what vnderſtandeſt thou by pleaſure?

Thoſe delightes whyche the things of the world bring with them. Knoweſt thou not, that thou art like one born yeſterday, & yet ther be many yeres ſince we firſt met together?

If thou vnderſtandeſt of thoſe pleaſures, that eatyng and drinkyng bringeth, & idleneſſe with thoſe vaine & wanton thoughts that procede of it.

Of what thinkſt thou I meane? of thoſe that we haue by faſting or labor, or waſting our ſelues with ſtudy as ſome fooles doe?

Thou art much deceiued, rather I ſay vnto thée, that nature hath not giuen to men, as Archita the Tarentine Pleaſures ſaid, (if thou remember of his life, for I know thou haſte red it ofte) a greater nor more hurtfull euil than pleaſure, and delight of the body.

Thou ſayeſt ſo perhaps, bicauſe the leaſt parte is thine.

Rather, bicauſe the truthe is ſo, wherof comes for the moſte parte, treaſons of the Countrey, ruines of cities, enimities of men, & other wickedneſſe, murders, rauine of richeſſe and adulteries, but of volupt and delight? which ſo muche blinde men with their entiſement and alluring, that taking from them the vſe of reaſon, they he turned into beaſtes.

O reaſon, yet it feareth not them, as thou doeſt ſay.

There is no ſuche enimie as pleaſure, which of good reaſō was called of wiſe mē, the bait of al euil. For where the ſenſes rule, reaſon hath no place, no vertue is foūd in them that be giuen to the pray of their gorge, to wine, to ſléepe, & thoſe idleneſſe, of the which groweth among vs, a thouſand vaine and vnprofitable cares, which kepe vs alwaies after with our face to the earthe, like the brute beaſtes which lacke reaſon. Thinkeſt thou then, that age is to be blamed, when ſhe defends vs from greater enimies▪ taking from them that force, wherewith they offende?

If it were as thou ſayeſt: but graunt there is one man that hath no pleſure, is not he in déede, as he were not aliue, or as a thing wtout ſenſe?

Yes. But ſhe takes not all alwayes from men, but only thoſe that be common with other beaſtes.

Then what be they, ye remain?

All they that be properlye méete for menne, and be permitted is by reſon, which principally be thoſe delights, that be taken of operations, which riſe in a man of thoſe partes that haua in them diuineneſſe.

Which be thoſe?

All the ſpeculatiōs and exerciſes vertuous.

If I ſhold always be occupied in like things after thée, my ſeruitude ſhold be too great: thou knoweſt ſomtime I would haue ſome comfort.

I wil not denie thée it, ſo that thou paſſe not reaſonable termes: but I will ſay vnto thée, that delight that is taken in eating and drinking, and talking withthy frends, is much more acceptable to olde age, than to the other ages.

What is the cauſe?

Bicauſe there is in olde men more moderate appetite, they fall not into dronkenneſſe, or any other alteration of the minde, as yong men do, (which haue their willes diſordinate) if they haue not in their youth, made thē ſelues worſe. Further they know to reaſon of more things and better, by the meane of time and experience, and better enioye the conuerſation of men, & with much more ſwéeteneſſe imbrace the preſence of them, than yong men do. For of their péeres they be honoured, and of their leſſe they be reuerenced. Whiche thyng bryngs them no ſmall delight.

If they haue ſéene many things they remember few, bicauſe memory in that age diminiſheth much.

Yea, in them that exerciſe it not, which is a vice of maner, not of age, as in many of them to be ſuſpicious, to be couetous, tedious, prayſer of time paſt, eſtemer of himſelf more than other, and other like wants: but when ſhe loſeth any of hir ſtrength, there increaſeth ſo much for it in wit and iudgement, that they ſupply fully for hir the fruits, which bring much more pleaſure to olde men, than doth armure, horſſes, huntings, daunces, and ſuch other that delites yōg men. Of the pleaſures of Ʋenus I will not reaſon, ſéeing ther is nothing cauſeth more errors in mā than it. But theſe things that I ſpeake Iuſt, come not to all olde men, but to them only, that haue ſo liued in other ages, that their reputation and yeres haue encreaſed in them a like.

Which be they, tell me?

The greater parte, that thou ſholdeſt not think they wer as white crowes, for who ſo euer liueth in any age, though not all, yet in part according to reaſon, (not being poſſible, but he that is a man, muſt erre ſomtime) ſo the errors he make, be comportable, he is excuſed of the moſt parte of men, & that age after of hir ſelfe bringeth him ſuch authoritie and reputatatiō, that he is honored of euery one, and the firſt place giuen him in euery aſſembly. And to this is memory alſo ioyned, and remembraunce, yt he hath liued ciuilly, and like an honeſt man, which thing is more worthe, than all the pleaſures of any age.

Wel I wil proue thy opinion in this, for I know the pleſure I haue had ſome time, when I haue ſéene my ſelfe honored for mine age ſake. But to the other, that more importeth thā all the reſt, what ſayeſt thou?

What is that?

That we be nigh death.

It is true that the terme and ende of olde age is death, where naturally to the other ages it haps not ſo: the ende of childhode is youth, the end of youth middle age, the ende of middle age, olde age. Neuertheleſſe there is none of all theſe ages can promiſe them ſelues life one pore day. Rather be they more, (as I ſaide vnto thée,) that die in the other ages, than they that be olde, bicauſe of the multitude of great perrils, that doe chaunce in life?

The olde man hath poſſeſſed that the yong hopeth for.

What helpes to haue lyued, ſeing tyme paſt is not?

That that makes ye hope of the time to come, whiche is to come: but what is .xv. or .xx. yeres more or leſſe, ſeing we muſt nedes die, nothyng remaining vnto vs of things gotten in time, but onely the acts of vertue?

What is xv. or .xx. yere? O my ſoule, thou ſhe weſt to haue taſted but a little, howe pleaſant thyng it is to lyue?

Thou ſéemeſt not to know: for if thou haddeſt conſydered well the thyngs that haps in euery age, thou ſhouldeſt finde there be many more that it diſpleaſeth, than pleaſeth: and that a man muſte ſtriue with ſo many things, as our life hath bene wellLife, a Warfare. heretofore called, a continuall warfare. But let vs goe further Iuſt: If death be to be feared, they ought onely to feare, that by death thinke they ſhall ceaſe to be, which is deſired and loued ſo much of all creatures, or to them that doubt to go to worſe, neyther of the which ought to be in thee, thou being a chriſtian man.

And what certaintie haue I, not to loſe my being vtterly, when I ſhall die?

None of thy ſelfe, thou canſt not thinke otherwiſe, beyng by thy propre nature mortal, and ſeyng that all other things lyke vnto thée, muſte decay and die: but I ſay vnto thee, that whē that time determined, ſhal come, appointed by God, I that am immortall, ſhal be revnited with thée, wherby thou ſhalt riſe with me by y• grace of the immortal God, voide of trouble and clere from all qualitie, that now cauſeth thée to chaunge euery day to an other, which in the end ſhall cauſe me to be ſeparate from thée, whereof ſhall come thy death.

What certaintie haſte thou of this?

That that excéedeth and paſſeth all other, the light of faith.

And that light thou ſpeakeſt of paſſeth the certaintie of things, by meane of ſcience. I haue heard ſay that ſcience is nothing but a certaintie.

It paſſeth farre, for ſciences be the inuentions of men, which may erre, rather it neuer doeth thing, but there is founde in it ſome imperfection,Faith. and the light of truth commeth or God, which is the high and vnſpeakeable veritie. But I wil not bring thée more reaſons for this, we hauing ſo many times red together, that diuine treatiſe that Ierome made, intituled the Triumphe of Faith, where is proued of him, all this that I haue ſaid, ſo as he that hathe redde, and doeth not beléeue, may ſay, either he vnderſtandes not, or elſe is obſtinate in his opinion. Therefore lament no more Iuſt, that thou arte olde, for feare of ſhort life, for if we be nigh deathe, we be nighe the ende of our Pilgrimage, & at the terme to arriue in our countrey, and porte of our ſaluation.

I haue many times heard this, that we heere be Pilgrimes, and that this is not our Countrey: and yet it ſéemes very harde to me, to thinke I ſhall departe.

This is full well knowen to me: for the ende which I ſhew thée, and to the which thou arte ordained by my occaſion, doth paſſe and excéede thy nature: But ſuffer thy ſelfe to be guided of me, and let vs diſpoſe all our buſineſſe, that when it ſhal pleaſe him that gouernes all things, to looſe this bande, let it grieue thée as little as may be, hauing a ſure hope, to be vnited wyth me againe, in a farre better ſtate, and I reioyce to returne to my maker. Therfore complaine no more Iust of thy age, for none of theſe cauſes, wherefore thou blameſt hir, hath place in vs, bycauſe we be ſure (as I haue ſayd) to go to a better life.

Well, I will do all thou ſayſt, and in all things put my ſelfe to thy will, without makyng any more accompte of my will: for I thinke that we hauing ſo long ben together, thou haſt ought me ſo great loue, that thou wouldeſt not counſell me but to my good.

Now it ſéemes thou knoweſt thy weale: for of our diſcorde ſhould come the euil of both vs. Therfore let vs apply to liue together in the loue of God, and lette vs euer hold before our eyes theſe three things. The firſt, that God was made man, to aduance the nature of man to thys dignitie, that mā might be made God. The ſecond, that he hath bene willing to dye to ſatiſfie and pay the pain of our debtes, we not being apt nor ſufficient to do it, being made his enimies, through the fault of our firſt father. The third is, that we be mortall: wherefore the two firſt, like to ſpurres of loue, doe make vs to goe chearefully to the vttermoſt of our power, throughe his moſt holy law, for he ſhould be very hard, that would not be kindled with the loue of Chriſt Iesu our ſauiour, if he conſider he was made man for vs, and after died for our ſinnes. The thirde ſhall be a bridle of feare, that ſhall not ſuffer vs to goe from his will. And though by the infirmitie of nature, we commit ſometime ſome fault, it will make vs ſtraight tourne to him, and humbly aſke him pardon. For they only be bleſſed, whoſe ſinnsBleſſed. (as Dauid ſaith) be remitted of him.

How ſhal we be heard of him, I remember I haue red in the ſcripture, God heareth not the voyce of a ſinner.

We ſhall no longer be ſinners, as ofte as we ſhall tourne to God, and run to him with true faith, ſeing ſinne is nothing elſe, but to take our face from God, and tourne it to his creatures. But if we turne vs to Chriſt with all our heart, truſting that he hath ſatiſfied for all our defectes, as a very mediator, and our Sauiour, it ſhall folow that we ſhall be vnited with him as with our head, in ſuche ſorte by loue, that we ſhall become his members, whereby we ſhall euer worke, after his will. For as the eye, although it be an eye, ſhold not ſée, nor the tongue, although it be a tongue, ſhould not ſpeake if it were not vnited with the heade, which giueth them ſtrength to work, ſo we Chriſtians alſo, although we be chriſtians ſhould neuer worke as we ought, if we were not vnited with Chriſt our head, which graūteth vs by his grace to do it. Of the which vnion riſeth, that his merites alſo ſhall come downe into vs, and we ſhall couer our faultes with his innocencie, whereby going after ſo, before the Tribunall of God, he ſhal ſay after the manner of the greate Patriarke Iſaac, of vs, although the voyce be of Iacob, that is of ſinners, yet the members, that is their works be of Eſau, that is of my firſt begottē ſonne, whereby he ſhall giue vs his benediction, and in the ende the heritage of God.

Thou haſt giuen ſuche a conſolation this morning my Soule, that (as I ſayd to thee before) I let my ſelfe héereafter be guided of thée, and apply me to all that thou doeſt counſel me, for ſo I know is for my weale clearely.

God of whome commeth all our good, long maintaine thée in this purpoſe.