Pleasure and profite.

First then presuming that your Lordship is both of your selfe and by those about you, which are better able than my yoong selfe in­structed in religion, and the true feare of the almightie God, once the onely maker, alwaies the sole gouernour of the heauens, the earth [Page] and the sea, who must be the head, the foote, and the roote, the beginning, fountaine and foundation of all your actions: much more of these your dangerful voyages, I am in the next place to put you in mind, that as archers when they goe abroad, choose themselues out some mark, (and cōmonly it is the whitest & fayrest they can finde) whereat they aime and shoote: so must you doe, now you go abroad into the world, you are to propound vnto your selfe, two, the fairest, and gainfullest marks that be, at which all men haue shot euer since the begin­ning of the world: they are not pleasure alone as most, & the worst do, like those which make Garlandes onely for shew, they care not how good or wholesome the flowers are, so they be goodly and faire to the eye. So they care not how litle profit they haue, so they be not scan­ted of their pleasure, whom a learned and va­liant Gentleman in your Lordships presence & my hearing compared to him, that was car­ried faire and softly abroad in a cloake-bagge, and returned home as wise as he went out. But you (most noble yong Gentleman) must take a farre other, which is a much better course:) you are to propound to your selfe profite ra­ther then pleasure. For this is had better at home, wherfore your honor should not need to hazard your selfe and life so many waies a­broad if pleasure wer your chiefest end, which is but a base end, and quickly hath an end, for [Page] what more short, and vncertaine then plea­sure? which may be compared (me thinkes) to lightning manie waies, and verie fitly, light­ning proceedes out of a cloud, so is our reason darkned, and obscured with a cloud (as it wer) if pleasure once take place, lightning is neuer without some thunder, no more arethey with­out their troubles and vexations, who haue giuen themselues ouer to pleasure. Lightning is said to be of such power, that meeting with strong and firmly vnited thinges it melteth, or breaketh or changeth them, (As by experi­ence hath beene seene in monie, which hath bene molten in mens purses, and swordes bro­ken in their scabbards, and beare turned in bar­rels,) So doth pleasure plant most common­ly her ordinance and batterie against the best, and worthiest men. Lightning is light, and lite, faire indeed, but quickly fading, so is plea­sure sweete, but I confesse but short. Lastly (not to be long) lightning falles from heauen: so doth pleasure make them that vse it, where­fore the Prophet Esay, he saith, that sathan fell from heauen, like lightning, as I told you that it is short, so I said it is a bad end, then which Architas was wont to say that God in giuing it gaue the greatest plague and mischiefe vnto man that could be deuised, ‘for pleasure makes beast, and man all one.’ Wherefore (my verie good Lord) this must be your last end, though I named it, in the former place (as oft times the [Page] worst goes first.) To stand heere to dilate how your Lordship may receiue pleasure by trauai­ling, is to teach your eyes to see, and your ears to heare a thing both needlesse, and foolishe: for there is none that hath his sight, and senses but must needes be greatly affected, and mar­uellously delighted with the view and sight of so many faire fields, goodly riuers, high hilles, great cities, strange countries, with the strange varietie and sundrie sortes of fashions, lawes, men and maners. Thus pleasure as a faire wan­ton standeth in euerie corner of the street, and offereth it selfe to all that passe by. But as for profite (as euerie best thing is hardest to come by) it is not so easily attained vnto without far­ther directions, and some more extraordinarie conceite and labour. If therefore ‘you will be a profitable Trauailer, and come home better then you went out,’ which I know is your ho­norable resolution, you must seeke to be enri­ched with three things, three the godliest, most pretious pearles in the world. They are:

• Wisedome, or Pollicie.
• Knowledge, or learning.
• Manners, or behauiour.

As for wisedome, Homer (the wisest in my fancie, not only of all Poets, but of all heathen men) he (I say) affirmeth that it is had, and in­creased very much by right trauailing, who gi­ueth euerie where no other, or no greater rea­son of the great Sapience, and prudence of V­lisses [Page] then that he was [...], one that had seen much, as himselfe saith in the verses which are ineuery ones mouth.

And in sooth the learned Poet saide right well, for of all things in the world, I know nothing more auaileable to the attaining of true wise­dome and sound discretion, then the sight, con­sideration and knowledge, of sundry rites, ma­ners, pollycies and gouernments, especiallye if you marke them diligentlie, compare them togither perfectlie, and applie them to your purpose effectuallie, which of all loues I desire your honour to do. It is enough that you see strange ordinaunces in other landes, but you must see into them, and marke the reason and grounde of them. Thinke it not sufficient to seeke into forren estates and customes, vnlesse you search also into the vse and abuse of them.

Now this search and inquisition I speake of, ‘is to be practised either by reading the seueral hystories of those nations where you are to trauell, (for euery particular countrie hath his peculiar storie and chronicle)’ where you shall find the nature, manners, and behauior of the people: the Citties, the waies, and the com­modities of the countrey set downe: or else by hearing (for seeing no storie, as no lawe can [Page] comprise euery particular thinge) therefore to attaine to a more exact and perfect knowledge, it shall not be amisse for your Lordship, to talk with the learned of the lande where you goe. ‘For albeit wisedome and safetie, do wishe mee to counsell you to silence in trauelling:’ yet I thinke it not amisse, though you giue the rains now and then to that vnbrideled member, the toong: which you may vse as occasion shall serue, both on the way by sea and by land, and also at and after meales (according to that laud­able custome which I am priuie to is vsed by your selfe, and the vertuous about you at your owne table.) And might I haue leaue to direct you also (because I haue begun to be bold) in the subiect of your talke, in mine opinion no­thing were more meet for one of your honou­rable estate, then to question and discourse of the fashions, lawes, nobilitie, and kind of war­fare of the people where you trauell, as did the great Alexander: who when any embassadors resorted to kinge Phillip his father from farre countries, and great potentates was woont ‘to demande of them what weapons they vsed in warre: what lawes in peace, how they gouer­ned their Citties, but especiallie how they or­dered their battels.’ Thus if you imploie your time in trauell, and applie your selfe to imitate the worthiest, certainelie you shall find at your comming home, that you haue taken great pro­fit, though you know not how, nor when.

[Page] As the clocke goeth and we discerne it not: as man groweth and we marke it not: herbes sprout out and we see not how, nor when: so dooth a mans iudgement, wisedome, and pol­licie grow from strength to strength, and in­crease woonderfullie ere wee are aware, onelie let vs adde now a little, and then a little. And of the first fruit and effect of trauelling whiche was named wisedome and pollicie thus much in briefe.

Now for the seconde, your Honour maye chance to wonder, to heare me saye, that lear­ning is to be sought for abroad in this great va­rietie of learninge and learned men at home: seeing also that the studentes life is farre diffe­rent from the trauellers: the one beeing of ne­cessitie in continuall motion, care and busines, the other naturallie affecting ease, safetie, and quietnesse: both whose humors, and conditi­ons the Poet who had tasted of both, expressed liuely in two verses,

But because (if I in my simplicitie durst pre­sume so farre) I would be, yea right honoura­ble I am, an humble sutor to your honour, to vouchsafe me some place vnder your lordship, in this praise-worthie voyage: both because I haue alwaies borne a feruent zeale to your ho­nour, [Page] and an exceeding longing to trauel, and my friends will neuer giue me leaue but now, to wait vpon your Honor. Therefore leaste in this request (which if I might obtaine, I should thinke my lims, my life, and libertie, to little to spend in your lordships seruice and safety) least I say, you might crosse my sute with mine own sword: therefore to answer my selfe, and anye that may obiect against schollers and students, that it is not fitting for them to trauell: wee are to know that lerning (which students propoūd to themselues, as seafaring men do the hauen) is obtained either by the eare, or by the eie: by hearing (I meane) or by reading.

Now although (God be thanked) our own countrey is replenished with as manie, and as profound learned men, as anie region in chri­stendome besides, yet there is no man but will graunt that heere is not all the learning in the worlde. No no, the Lord God in his great, and wonderfull prouidence, as hee hath giuen ech countrey his commoditie: so hath he pla­ced learned men in euerie part of the world, as starres, or pretious stones, of whome (such is our nature especially of vs English) that, as we admire and entertaine strange artificers be­fore our owne, so wee wonder at, and more willingly intreate of learning with the learned forrainer, then with our own natiue countrey man: which though it be not generally to be liked) yet in this case we speake of, trauelling, [Page] schollers by visiting vniuersities, and men of learning, maye vse this no good inclination to a good end.

‘Whoe shall not returne more learned from talking with learned Lypsius? a man maye adde to his wisdome verie much, by conferring with the wise saith the wisest of men.’ The eloquent Murctus will make a man much more retoricall, and ciuil in speach, if he doo but once discours with him, though hee intende not to learne of him then euer he was before. For I know not howe, but sure so it is, ‘we imitate those with whom in talking we are delighted, though we propound no such thing before hand: euen as they that walke in the sunne only for their re­creation, yet are coloured therewith and sun­burnt:’ or rather and better as they that ftaieng a while in the Apothecaries shop (til their con­fections be made) carrie away the smell of the sweet spices euen in their garmentes. To talke with, or but to see such famous men, would re­uiue and glad me greatlie.

Now if your Lordship (to returne) shall like of, or chance to light into the familiaritie of these worthy men (as it is very easie they being most kind, and as courteous as learned) lorde God, what opportunitie haue you to inriche your selfe with all manner of excellent and ex­quisite learning. Seeke therefore after their ac­quaintance, and albeit meet it is your honour should know your state and calling, yet shame [Page] not, no nor disdaine not, to intrude your selfe into their familiaritie, which may more enno­ble you.

Neuer can a man be more shamelesse with lesse shame, then in coueting to be with them, that may better him. Thus was Plato, Pythago­ras, Democritus, & the rest of those worthie tra­uailers affected, who leauing their natiue soile, Greece, (the fountain, and foundation of lear­ning) ranged ouer the whole world, and were not ashamed to learne of the worst, and sim­plest, if he knew anie thing whereof they were ignorant. The second meanes for a scholler, yoong gentleman, or anie other to further, and increase his learning by perigrination, or ‘trauailing (I said was) by the eyes, which is ei­ther by reading those bookes beyond the sea, which are not to bee had for anie monie on this side, or by being an eye witnesse of the ve­rie same things, which he hath red in bookes,’ or hard of by others, for example: your honor is for Italie, that Queene of countries, famous for the wholesome temperature of the aire, for the great plentie of all the gifts of God, for the great ciuilitie, and wisedome of the people (al­beit nowe somewhat degenerated with ouer-much effeminacie) renowmed in all histories, both old and newe, for their mightie warres, waged with the whole world, for their martial discipline in warre, and polliticke gouerne­ment in peace. In this countrey where shall [Page] you set your feet, or cast your eie: but you shall haue occasion to call into remembrance, that which is set downe in Liuie, Salust, Polibius, Ply­ny, Tacitus, Dion, and Dionisius, in whome who so hath read heeretofore sondrie matters of worth, and accidents of moment (wherof they are full) and shall in trauailing see before hys eies the trueth of their discourses, and the de­monstration of their descriptions: in trueth if he be not rauished with delight, I shall take him but for some stocke, or stone: for the sight of the thing, which a man hath heard, doth set such a grace, and edge to the same, seemeth to me to be without all life that is not liuely and feelingly assected, and moued therewith.

To goe no farther then Italie (although I could be content to wade in writing, & wan­der by trauell farther, if it might be) will not he that hath read of the great ouerthrowe of the Romaines at Thrasimenum, and their soule dis­comfiture at Cannas, when hee shall with hys owne eyes beholde the places, where the re­gentes, [Page] and great dominators of the worlde were shamefully foyled, will hee not (I say) be greatly affected with a certaine compassion? on the other side wil he not be greatly deligh­ted with the goodly view of those famous, & delicious places of Albania, Tibur, and the renowmed Bathes? What a pleasure will it be to see the house, where Plinie dwelt, the coun­trey wherein the famous Virgill, or the renow­med Ouid was borne? the signes, and monu­mentes of the noble conquerours? what a de­lightfull sight will it be to behold so manie an­cient buildinges? so manie stately Churches: so manie huge Theators: so manic high pil­lers: so manie sumptuous sepulchres? Surely I knowe not howe, but it is so, the minde of man beginnes to reuiue, and lift vp his selfe a­boue it selfe, and to affect and meditate on ex­cellent, and noble thinges, at the verie sight, and consideration of these so great, and glori­ous monumentes of antiquitie: neither can the remembrance of the valour, prowesse, and vertue of former men and ages, but ingen­der braue and worthie thoughtes, in euerie gentle heart, and noble bloud.

Nowe I come to the third effect, and ver­tue of trauel, which consistes in learning to re­fine our maners, and to attaine to faire condi­tions, and behauiour towardes all kinde and conditions of men, which I haue left for the last place, because I would haue it best remem­bred. [Page] For he that shall trauell and not haue a speciall care heereof: better were it for him to fit dreaming, dunsing, and drowping at home. What is learning? nay what shal it profit a man to be wise, if a man be not also honest, vertu­ous, and of good qualities? Wherefore (noble Lord Edward) thus thinke; that the other two properties of trauailing, I haue recommended to you as things praise worthy: but this as pro­fitable: those I wish you to embrace as orna­mentes to your honour, but this as the prop, and piller thereof. Wherefore in this point I haue thought good to dwell a little: (for sure­ly the care, and feare I haue of you, maketh me not to thinke muche of this my little labour.) In my direction of maners, I would haue you marke two things, that you auoid the ile, and learne the good. It is out of question, that in trauell you shall see sundrie and strange ma­ners, with varietie, elegancie, neate, and good­ly behauiour, but here we must take heed least hand ouer head, and without choise wee imi­tate all fashions, and frame our selues to al fan­cies, rather like toying apes, then sober men. Italie (I graunt) and France, will teach vs fine, and faire cariage of our body, good, & discreet deliuerie of our minde, ciuill, and modest be­hauiour to others, but yet as we are to like, so wee are not straight to affect euerie coun­trey fashion: wee are to vse them seasonably, and soberly and modestly, not with thrasoni­call, [Page] and presumptuous ostentation: (wherein most trauailers fowly ouershot themselues, by passing the bondes of decencie, and mediocri­tie.) For as many countries as they haue tra­uailed, so manie gestures shall you see them vse, as plaiers on the stage, which perhaps in one houre chaunge themselues into a dosen kindes of gestures. This mimicall, and misera­ble affecting (as in all things els it is grosse, and absurd) so in the carriage of the body, it is most vile, base, and of all least beseeming a noble personage: wherefore eschewe it (good my Lord) and especially my Lord, auoid by all meanes, the vicious carriage (as I may so say) of the mind, the rather because the vices of the minde are common abroad, and obuious eue­rie where, and other nations haue greater fa­cilitie to hide their vices then we English men, so that their outward shew is cōmonly good, and honest, but in wardly there lurkes all kinde of vice, and vitious affections (for the moste part I say) wherefore the more prouident ought you to be, that you bee not beguiled with these painted Sepulchres, and that so much the rather, because our nature is prone to imitate outlandish vices, either because they are strange to vs, and delightfull, or because (as I said) they beguile, and circumuent vs with the glose, and goodly shew of vertue. As poison giuen in the sweetest wine, pearceth and killeth sooner: so doth vice vnder the [Page] cloke of vertue. Againe consider (I pray you) how soone, and how easie our corrupt nature is induced to sinne.

As painters can easilie draw any mole, or de formitie in the face but cannot so soone sha­dow out the liuelie portrature and sweet linea­ments thereof: so we attaine vnto vertue, not without great industrie, but vnto vice we need no schoolemaister. Wherefore, sweete Earle, haue diligent care in this behalfe, least you fall into the naturall faults of those nations where you trauell. For euen as euery man, so euerie nation hath his proper vice, as for example. ‘The Frenche man is light and inconstante in speech and behauiour. The Italian hypocriti­call, luxurious, and (which is worst of all illes) ielous. The Spaniard is imperious, proude, disdainful, pretending more then euer hee in­tendeth to doo. The Germaine, and Nether­lander, ambitious, gluttons, drunkerdes, and alwaies male contents.’

These their vicious conditions (because they are naturall vnto them) they commende rather then condemne in themselues; and for sooth that they may go more currant abroad, they set them out with the goodlie titles of ci­uilitie, amabilitie, grauitie, and good fellowe­ship: but beware, beware of them, the gree­ner the grasse is, the more like it is that the snake lurks there.

And thus much concerning the last part of [Page] manners: onely giue me leaue to say a worde more of Italie and Venice it selfe, (whereto your Lordship is intended) for I knowe not how the sweet guiles of loue, and care, doo fill the sailes of my speech, and thrust my pen far­ther iddeed, then in right it shoulde. Of all o­ther nations our owne is most free, ingenious and open, and in this vertue (for so it is) your Honour seemeth to mee to excell among ma­ny: contrariwise the Italian, as I said, is hypo­critical, close, malitious, incroching and dead lie.

Wherefore (I haue thought good) to set you downe ‘the nature and vices both of the men, and the women: with the meanes how to vse and demeane your selfe towardes them for your owne safetie and defence;’ and yet without grudge or offence to them. The men, as are inueigling vnderminers & deep dissem­blers, whoe when they haue pried into your nature, & are priuy to your secrets, wil straight change their coppie, and shew themselues in their coulors: against these dissemblers ‘I know no other, or at least no better buckler, then to dissemble also yourselfe;’ Fallere fallentem, non est fraus: To deceiue a deceiuer, is no deceit. Those that vndermine a towne, or castle wall by a countermine, are soone destroied. Creses­to, cum cretencibus. Heere I exhorty ou not (for all this) to common and continuall dissimula­tion: [Page] God forbid. As Physitions for the safe­tie of their patients, prescribe them poison for a time, to expell poison: so I wish you to frame your nature a little and for a time, to lighte and small dissimulation. In al the way of your trauell, especiallye in Italie, I beseech you ob­serue these three golden rules, Sit.

Be friendlie to al, familiar to a few, and speake but sildome. In countenance be as courteous as you can, and as your state wil beare; in talk as affable as you shall see cause; but keepe our minde secret vnto your selfe, till you come to those, whose heartes are as yours. Epicharmus was woont to say, that the sinew and marrow of wisedome was [...], Nihil credere, to be­leeue nothing. And this which I haue sayde hath beene spoken of the vulgar and popular sort, not of the best and noble men, whome I know are simple, sincere, noble, louers of lear­ning, and of braue mindes, so as methinkes, I may say, that in the one remaine the sparkes of the old Latines and worthy Romaines, in the other the feakes and reliques of the sauadge Gothes and vandals. Thus haue I passed by the first rock (which you may call Scilla, with [Page] the Poets) God grant you maye with as great safetie faile by it, as by Gods grace and good gouernement you shall.

The other is behinde, and that is a quick­sand or bottomlesse gulfe, (you may tearme it as others haue Carybdis) heere what shall I say, or do for you? so may I be saued as I heere feare your safetie: vnlesse God & good coun­sell doo helpe you; so great dread haue I of your yoong and slipperie age, and so ouer sure of the alluring and intrapping natures of the Venetian and Italian Curtesanes: yet Noble Lord, take of me these two precepts: ‘that you refraine your Eyes, and your Eares.’

First shut your eies that they see not vany­tie, next your eares that they heare not follye. Loue creepeth in at the windowes of the eies, vt vidi, vt arsi? saith the Poet: I sawe, and I sighed.

Loues dwelling is in Ladies eies, from whense he shootes his daintie darts into the lustie gal­lants hartes, saith one, therefore as Iudges a­mong the Athenians were woont to be blind­folde that they should not haue any respect of persons: so should they that wil not be taken by that blind boy Cupid.

As your eies, so muste your eares bee also chast, and fortified against all not only leche­rous, but lasciuious talke. For loue talke bree­deth [Page] loue, as talke of learning, and talk of cou­ragious exploits, volor, and courage. As there­fore in old time, those that fought at barriers had couers, and defences for their eares, to saue them harmlesse, so the best safegard a­gainst these loue, but scarse louely woundes is:

Thus farre I haue enlarged of the people of both sexes. (I hope it shal not be anie preiu­dice to me, seing I haue said nothing in splene, malice, or disdaine) now I will adde a word, or two of the places themselues, which you are, or may passe through and visite at your plea­sure, which are verie goodly, and delightfull to see, in so muche as you may iustly doubt whether to see first. But in my iudgments (and I haue seene them all) you were best to trauell first to Naples, which is so pleasantly seated: Next, to the faire cittie of Seane: after that to Florence, the verie flower (as I may say) of all fine Cities. Bononia and Pauia, the two nurses of Sciences, and liberall arts, may be visited in the way, where when you haue staied a while, refreshed your selfe, and vewed the cities, (to omit other delightfull occurrents by the way) you shall at length come to your in tended ior­nies end. Venice, the Ladie of the sea, that faire, [Page] great, riche, and fortunate Cittie: ‘that Cittie which of all the cities in the world hath lasted and florished longest:’ that cittie that hath held play (I was about to say) held vnder (in part it hath so done) the cruell and powerfull Tur­kish Emperour: that cittie whose scituation is most admirable, whose pollicie, and gouerne­ment in peace most wise, and free: whose wars by sea and land haue been infinite, and alwais luckie, the Forte of Christendome, & the verie best marte of Merchantes. ‘For as in olde time, Alexandria was called the golden cittie: Antio­chia the bewtifull, Nichomedia the very bewti­full, Athens the most glorious, and breuiarie of the world: So in Italy of late Roome is dubbed the great, Florence the faire: Naples is called the Noble, and Venice is christened the rich Citie.’ In your returne home, if you turne aside to that huge, and populous the cittie of Millaine, your time shall not be ill spent: nor your labor lost, with which (being the end) of Italie, ‘I will end this my free, and tedious discourse: desiring the Lord God of his great mercy, and infinite goodnesse, to blesse, and preserue your honourable Lordship, in your going out: in the way: and in your comming home.’

‘The Lord, which led the people of Israell through the red sea as through drie land, and preserued Ionas in the Whales bellie, the lord that walked on the sea before his disciples as [Page] on the earth, and commanded the windes to cease: the Lorde which preserued Paule and his companie, when the sea wrought and was sorelie troubled. The same God (whose arme is not shortened) keepe your worthy lordship and your godlie company, as in his armes that you take no harme by sea, not hurt by lande.’