I Am not ignorant (most reuerend and vpright Iud­ges) how difficult a thing it is, Podagra begin­neth her Apolo­gie. and full of hatred to roote an opinion out of mens minds, beeing once conceiued, and now of long time inueterate, espe­cially of the Incondite, rude and vnlearned vulgar, which are not so much led by reason, as carried by a certaine violence and impetuous rage (which the Greeks aptly call [...],) to iudge of things. No mar­uell then, if wanting discretion, without difference, rashly they giue sentence: For how can there proceed any right iudgement, when Folly captiuates Wisedome, Rash­nesse rules Reason, Impotencie of mind cashires counsell? Wherefore I greatly reioyce, that now at length time is of­fered, and liberty granted me, to answer and refell the slan­ders and obiections of the franticke vulgar sort, mine ene­mies, that (to my griefe) I heare not my selfe alwaies tradu­ced, and be neuer permitted freely to speake for my selfe.

Though it not onely toucheth mee, but as I suppose, it [Page 2] concerneth you also (O yee Iudges) that none, vpon abare accusation only, Si accusasse suf­ficiat, quis in­nocens esse pote­rit? without hearing should bee conuicted and perish; For, if it bee sufficient for euery varlet to accuse, what good man then can be innocent, and vncondemned? Not without cause therefore your serene aspect, a signe of clemencie and mildnesse, and this frequent and renowmed assemblie doth so recreate and cheere vp my spirits, that I cast out of my mind all suspition of feare or partiality. For, why should I feare, seeing my cause is to bee heard before you, whose Wisedome, whose Integrity, whose Innocency is such, that I ought not only, not to suspect; but also, to hope for at your hands, whatsoeuer shall be iust, honest and right, and shal be thought worthy of your estimation, wise­dome and credit?

But before I begin to lay open my cause, I shall craue so much fauour at your hands (most clement Iudges) that with good leaue and attention you will bee pleased to heare mee to the end, permit me to keepe mine own order of speaking, and suspend your sentence vntill I come to the Epilogue and conclusion of my speech. Againe, if you haue conceiued a­ny displeasure, hatred, or indignation against mee, that ye put it off, lay it aside, cast it away, and haue respect not so much to the calumnies of my aduersaries, or mine own per­son, as to the equity of my cause. Truth cannot fi­nally be suppres­sed. And that yee will not bee offended, if my speech shall rase out, reason enfeeble, truth vanquish whatsoeuer sinister opinion, malicious cen­sure, and false cauillation they shall forge against mee. Truth, for a time may be oppressed, (God so disposing for our punishment, or tryall) but finally suppressed it cannot be. Truth is stronger then all falshood: it is temporis filia, the daughter of time, and will at length preuaile. Truth is sim­plex et nuda, sed efficax et magna, simple and naked, but pow­erfull and strong: splendet cum obscuratur, vincit cùm opprimi­tur: it shineth when it is darkned, and ouercommeth when it is oppressed. Aug. ad Christin. It was well said of that Father, that Truth hath a double effect, it is dulcis & amara, sweet and bitter; [Page 3] quando dulcis est, parcit: quando amara, curat: when it is sweet, it spareth: when it is bitter, it cureth. Arist. And as wisely Aristo­tle: Eos qui errant, ad pauca respicere: They that do erre, haue an insight, but into few things; but that wee bee not deceiued, euery circumstance which concerneth any mat­ter, is diligently to bee looked into and considered: which if it be, I doubt not but truth shall be of more validitie with you, then the malice, enuie and taunts of all men. For, I trust plainely to vnfold, that all the blame, and euils, how many and how great soeuer, which light vpon my aduersa­ries, are not so much to bee ascribed vnto mee; as to their owne licenciousnesse, and vices. Secondly, That these e­uils (if they be euils) are not so grieuous, but farre more tolerable, then either they will or imagine. And thirdly, that I am the cause of much good, and do bring many and great commodities vnto men.

Bee you not therefore (O Iudges) bee you not (I say) perturbed in mind, or carried away with passions; but qui­etly as you haue begun, heare me, I pray you, with patience. For, if I proue not plainely what I haue promised, it lieth in your power to condemne mee: so shall you acquit your selues of all partiality and blame; and for my part, if I bee conuicted, I will contentedly vndergoe whatsoeuer punish­ment you shall inflict vpon me. But, if I make good all that I haue spoken, I desire, that you will not so much respect me, as be mindfull of your place and office, that I may re­ceiue such vpright sentence, as the equity of my cause by law and right requireth.

But before I addresse my selfe to dissolue my aduersaries obiections, I thinke it fit to answere first to euill report and rumor of the people.

For, Ob. if thou be good (will my enemies say) and the cause of so much good vnto men, what then is the cause that all men so egerly hate, Sol. detest and abhorre thee? For, though Fame doth very often; yet is it not wont alwaies to erre, es­pecially beeing so inueterate, and euery where so frequent in the world.

[Page 4] And, I againe would aske these iolly fellowes, mine accusers, Why doe Children hate their Schoole-masters, though neuer so wise and learned? Why doe wicked men contemne good Lawes? Is it not because the Schoole-ma­ster laboureth to furnish the minds of his Schollers with good Arts, and discipline; that they may hereafter become the better men? And Lawes are a bridle to curbe the inso­lencie of badde men, to restraine them within the limits of their duty, that they dare not commit what villanie they would. Epict. Epictetus was wont to say: Aegrisernator est medi­eus, iniuriam passi lex. The Physicion is a preseruer of the sick, and the refuge for the wronged, is the Law: Except the Lawes (as Anacharsis once said) may bee compared to the Spiders webbe, Anacharsis. which catch and insnare onely the little weake flies, when the great Drones and strong ones, break the net and escape: a thing much to bee lamented. But to returne from whence I haue digressed: it followeth not that the Schoole-master should be euill, because hee is hated of Children, neither that the Lawes should be blamed and re­iected; because they are abhord of lewd Luskes, and vaine Varlets, euen the worst kind of men; but, wee must hold that children want iudgement, and do censure of Discipline and good Institution, as they whose Palate is corrupt, and infected with a feuer, are wont to doe of their meat and drinke: and vicious men polluted with all filthinesse, wish that there were no Lawes, that there might bee no hinde­rance to with-hold them from running boldly in their exe­crable and desperate courses. Hee is not therefore to be re­puted euill, which of a multitude; but he that is iustly, and that of good men condemned: neither is he presently to be counted a good man, who by many voices is extolled, but he that deserueth praise from the mouth of honest and wise men. And the witnesse of Conscience is more comfortable then the vulgar breath; but herein I rest satisfied with this saying of the Reuerend Seneca: De remed. for­tuiterum. Malè de me loquuntur, sed ma­l [...]; mouerer si de me Marcus Cato, si Lalius sapiens, si duo Sci­pienes [Page 5] ista loquerentur: nunc malis displicere, laudari est. They speake euill of me, but they are euill men: if Marcus Cato, Wise Lalius, the two Scipt [...]s, should speake this of me, I should be moued; but to be dispraised of the wicked, is a praise to a man.

For seeing the number of wicked men doth euery where exceed, none, by their iudgement shall be good; for they will commend none, but such as are like themselues; but so far off should wise men be, from accounting the iudgement of the insulse vulgar sort, to be of any moment, that in their estimate, they should bee of the best men, of whom the multitude speake worst, and traduce most: as contrariwise, they the vilest men, and of basest esteeme, for the most part, whom popular applause extolleth to the clouds; as the wise Plato rightly iudged: Whoso pleaseth euery humor is wor­thy suspition; yea, though he maketh a faire shew of Ver­tue.

Let mine aduersaries therefore cease to obiect vnto mee these frantick rumors, and rather blame themselues, which are the cause of such paine and torments to themselues, as worthily they suffer; For, they so liue, nay, they so drinke, they so plunge themselues in riot, and wallow in deliciousnesse, that they draw, compell, and hasten mee to come into their company, and to dwell with them euen a­gainst my will. For, seldome come I of mine owne accord; but most commonly by constraint, as enforced, I attend vp­on them. If then, I were the plague of man-kind, (as they would haue it) I should not afflict certaine men, but all without difference: but so farre am I from hurting all men, that I willingly decline from many; for I take no pleasure in those hard, rough, rusticke, agresticke kind of people, which neuer are at rest, but alwaies exercise their bodie with hard labours, Genio indulge­re. are euer moyling and toyling, which seldome or neuer giue themselues to pleasure, which endure hunger, which are content with a slender diet, the Water often quencheth their thirst, haue bad cloathing, and worse [Page 6] lodging, Whom the Gout flyeth from. fare hard, and lie hard, and can renounce all plea­sures of the flesh: I hate, I flie from such.

But, With whome the Gout loueth to dwell. these my gallant accusers (forsooth) which spend both day and night in riot, whose bodies with Idlenesse are corrupted, which abhorre labour as the pestilence, which eneruate, yea, euirate themselues with Venus, which search Land and Sea for dainty Viands, which stirre vp gluttonie with all kind of sawces, which measure the manner of their drinking, not by necessity, but by libidinie, which lie on Downe beds, and not onely go proudly; but monstrously apparelled, The Gouts Diet. which feede vpon Oysters, Ecles, and slimie-fish, loue Goose, Gosling, and Fennish-fowle, fresh Beefe, and moorish Birds, and wash their throats lustily with bowles of Claret wine, drinke healths in halfe pots, and whole pots, till they haue drunke themselues out of health, out of wealth, out of wit, and grace too; forgetting that Vna salus sanis, nullam potare salutem:

Which flow in all delights, which mans wickednesse can deuise, Si tarde cupis esse senex, vta [...]s o­portet vel modico medice, vel me­dico medice. Sup­ta cibus tan quam, laedit me­dicina salutem: At suptus prodest vt modicina ci­bus. whereby they enfeeble both body and mind, and many times (though I be very delicate) prouoke mee euen to loath their riot; yet, those men are wont to lay vpon me all the blame: forgetting their own liues are most corrupt, contaminated with filthy vices, which is the cause of all euill to themselues: and when they erre in the whole course of their life, yet (for sooth) they cease not to accuse, and traduce me, but as iustly as if a man should fall into the fire, or cast himself head long into the water, & yet should curse the fire, and accuse the water as cause of the danger, which he pro­cured to himselfe: but this is the common courtesie of the world, to shake all blame from themselues, and cast it vpon others, that by accusing others, they might vindicate vnto themselues an opinion of goodnesse, when they are the oc­casion of all mischiefe. According to the Poet:

And heere iust occasion [...] is offered me, Vertue the foun­dation of friend­ship. to exclaim against the slippery loue and friendship of the world; For, who would suspect the loue of these men, which all their life long, call for me, inuite me; yea, by their misgouernment enforce mee to dwell with them, as if they could not liue without me? But indeed, in men, in whom is laid no foun­dation of Vertue, is no expectation of faith and honestie.

And one of the things (saith a Wiseman) that men think they haue, Gueuarra. when they haue them not, is many friends; yea, one faithful friend: for, by my experiēce; if thou wilt beleeue me, I know not any thing wherein thou maist sooner be de­ceiued. And that which one friend doth for another in these daies, Of true friend­ship. is either to excuse, or hide himselfe, when there is neede of him, beeing more ready to lend him his Consci­ence, then his money. And he that will compare the num­ber that professe friendship vnto him, with them that haue performed the part of true friends; for one faithfull, he shal discouer an hundred dissemblers. Friendship, was wont to extend Vs (que) A true saying. adaras, as farre as the Altars; but now Vs (que) ad crumenas, euen to the purse and no farther. What is more common in euery mans mouth, then friendship, and what more rare, and lesse in vse? They make a formall shew of ciuility, but what they performe is plaine diuillitie. They will dissemble cunningly, promise liberally, and performe niggardly, giue all, and depart with nothing. I am all yours (say they) except body and goods. Surely such is the loue of my Podagricall friends, so ful of contraieties, & oppositions, that it may be called an intricate riddle, which needeth som Delio natatore (as it is in the Prouerb) to dissolue it. PHILOMI­SOPHILIAS EICON. As, What is that which at once, loueth & hateth; flyeth & pursueth; threat­neth & intreateth; Difficilis, facilis, incundus, accr [...] ­bus es idem. is angry & yet pittieth; would for sake, & yet wil not; and in the same thing, reioyceth & sorroweth? The answer is, it is Loue: a right portraiture of my louing friēds: and ther­fore one wel aduiseth to make, if we may, all men our well-willers, but good men our friends.

[Page 8] And Plutarch warneth men to take heede how they seek for a swarme of friends, Mart. lib. 12. lest they fall into a Waspes-nest of enemies.

Verily, I craue not (O ye Iudges) that you should only credit my words; looke (I pray you) into the constitution of their bodies, their face, skin, colour, aspect, and going: and if ye find not all these to witnesse their extreme riot, I will endure willingly any punishment; these seeme to bee rather Crassiani, then Christiani. Yet farre bee it from mee, that I should censure thus sharply all Plethoricke, and grosse bodies; for I know it to be naturall vnto many, which not­withstanding keepe themselues within the bounds of So­brietie, and hate all excesse. There are also many Students which vse a Sedentarie life, which are so far from surfeiting, that their slender Commons will scarse hold body and soule together, and in whose Colledges a hungry man may as soone breake his necke, as his fast; yet sometime I visite them also, because they refuse all exercise, and will not learne this lesson, Ne quid nimis, but by ouercooling their feete, and congealing their blood, prepare for mee a resting place.

I am wont also to touch some, which through ouer-vio­lent exercise, dilate too much the vitall pores, extenuate the blood and humours, distemper the Liuer, causing Podagri­call matter to fall downe, which begin my habite within them. I therefore am not so hurtfull, but they themselues inescate and allure me with their delicacies, retaine mee a­gainst my will to come vnto them; they, I say peruert all things, and then conuert all the fault vpon mee. I am pre­sent, they wish me away: I am absent, with their vices they call me againe: in sicknesse they seeke healthe in health they make sicknesse. Their owne health they neglect, and cease not to require it of me: they are male factors to themselues, and would haue me be their benefactor: they will liue disso­lutely, and curse me maliciously.

Consider therefore, (O yee Iudges) what they deserue, [Page 9] whose life reproueth them, whose forme of body bewrai­eth, whom inueterate custome reprehendeth. They neuer thinke, that they ought to eate and drinke, that they may liue, and not liue to eate and drinke; they neuer consider that only Lurcones and Gulligu [...]s, are my enemies; for, who I pray you, so bitterly inueigh against me, but only Luxuri­ous men? Who accuse me of cruelty, but only Luxurious men? Who crye out to haue mee condemned without an­swere, but onely Luxurious men? This beeing so, (O Iud­ges) how dare my aduersaries to mutter against me? How dare they appeare in your presence? How dare they to craue punishment to be inflicted vpon me, being Innocent? But they will say, I am their bitter and torturing enemy; What then? In seeking to be reuenged on their enemy, will they proue themselues to be most rancorous and malicious? Ve­rily; if I be so odious in their sight, that they thinke I de­serue no pardon, why then contend they with al their pow­er to draw me vnto them? Why then do they not so frame their liues, that I may neither haue will, nor power to come neere them? For; if they would bridle their licencious lusts, and not so want only plunge themselues in pleasure, if then, they did not proue me more milde and gentle vnto them, I were worthily to bee blamed; but it is hard for him to bee abstinent, which knoweth nothing but to follow riot, and hardly will he proue frugall, which al his life long hath been accustomed to carowsing and quaffing. Let them suffer therefore what they will not auoid, and so let them haue their health as they delight to liue; If so greedily they pur­sue vaine pleasures, let them be content to suffer paine, the inseparable companion of pleasure.

The ancient Romans to teach this, Macrob. lib. 1. de so [...]. Scipio­nis. inuented this Fiction; they fained two goddesses, the one called Ʋolupia, the god­desse of pleasure, the other called Angeronia, the goddesse of anguish and paine, Miscentur tristi­a letis, et mala sunt vicina bo­nis. names fitted to their natures: and the Priests of Angeronia did serue at the Altar of Volupia, to sig­nifie, that in this life, pleasure and sorrow are mixed toge­ther: [Page 10] and the Image of Angeronia (anguish and paine) was alwaies set vpon the Altar of Volupia (pleasure) to teach that sorrow is a companion to pleasure, Plato in Phae­done. and pleasure to sorrow. And when Iupiter (saith Plato) could not reconcile pleasure and paine, yet hee bound them together with an adaman­tine chaine, that though they did euer disagree, yet they should bee constrayned to dwell together. Ambrose. S. Ambrose hath this prosopopaeia of pleasure: Pleasures Pro­clamation. He shall be the chiefest with me, vvho is the vvorst of all, hee shall be mine, vvhich is not his owne, he that is most wicked, shall be most welcome to me, I haue in my hand the golden Babylonish cup, which ine­briateth the whole earth.

You see now, they greatly erre, which in the gulfe of plea­sure, seeke for health: as contrariwise, wise men in time of health, labour to preuent sicknes, quench pleasure, suppresse their inordinate appetites, which are the cause of many dis­astrous diseases to the body: but these men, when for many yeeres, by all meanes they allure, intise, and prouoke me to come vnto them, and vvith so many delights, can scarse make me obsequious vnto them, yet they striue to lay all the fault vpon me, when they are the very cause of their owne misery. What maruaile then if I take worthy reuenge vpon them, and for iniuries receiued, handle them more sharply then I would? And yet I could name many, which through in ordinate liuing, being pinched with pouerty, haue against their wills abstained from delicious meates, and drinks, and thereby haue recouered their pristine health: which could not be, if themselues, and not I, were not the hatchers of their owne vvoe. And for my part, seeing I giue place vnto labour, and dare not once touch sobriety; vvho seeth not my innocency, and the iniquity of mine accusers? And for mine owne person and deformed forme, which they say, re­sembleth barrell-bellied Bacchus, and my gate, like haloing Vulcane, I am so far off from blushing, that I rather glory therein. She is indidiffe­rent to all. For vvhatsoeuer, and howsoeuer I am, I know my selfe to be indifferent, and without parciality to all. I arrest [Page 11] Kings, Princes, rich and poore, noble and ignoble; yea the Popes themselues cannot escape my power: there is no re­spect of persons with me; except I be constrained to bee a ghest rather, with nice and effeminate men, then with sober and abstinent persons, not only because by their flattering enticements they solicite mee; but because with strong ropes they drawe me vnto them.

But here some wil obiect, Ob: that I do not onely infest these riotous Gully-guts, but oftentimes such as are very sober and temperant, are afflicted with my disease.

I answer, Ans. If it be so, yet is it very seldome, and therfore not to be drawn to a generall rule. What if they take this griefe from their Parents as an hereditarie euill? What maruaile then, if their Progenitors bee sickly, that they procreate an Off-spring like vnto themselues? You know it is a maxime in Nature: Simile generari a simili: Euery creature begetteth his like: How then can they charge me with that which is incident by Nature, or diffused into the children by the Pa­rents default? Seeing they will not affirme, that their noble descent and splendor of their riches are deriued from mee, let them leaue also to reproach me with anothers vice: and if they repute the noblenesse and riches of their Ancestors to be a credite vnto them, let them not disdaine to succeed them also in their hereditary Maladies; but if they would leuell their liues by the line of modesty, they should find me farre more gentle, then either the deserts of their Parents, or peruersenesse of Nature requireth.

Galen, Hier. in epist. or the learned interpreter of Galen (sayth Hierom) writeth, that they, quorum vita & ars sagina est, whose whole life and skill is to cramme their bodies, can neither liue long nor be healthy.

Wisely did Aristotle warne, Aristotle. that we should behold plea­sures non venientes, sed abeuntes, that is, not as fawningly they come vnto vs, but as they depart from vs: for as they come, they flatter and smile vpon vs, with a false shew of good­nesse, but departing, they leaue behind the sharpe sting of [Page 12] repentance and sorrow. Like Syrenes they appeare with a faire face, but drawe after them a horrible taile of a Serpent: For, alas, who is able to number the iliades of miseries, which the short pleasure, of tasting the forbidden fruit, hath brought vpon the world?

But now, A preseruatiue against the Gout. out of the abundance of my good nature, I will prescribe vnto mine accusers a preseruatiue against my selfe (though my Clients haue not deserued the least kindnesse at my hands) out of mine approued Recipes, as by many yeeres practice I haue tryed to bee of great force, to preuent my Gouty habite; which is this: Take of Platoes breake-fast one dramme; Pythagoras ab­stained from ea­ting of flesh. Plato was very moderate and frugall. Codius a poore man, whose fare and lodging was meane. Abstemius, one that abstaineth from wine. of Pythagoras dinner two ounces; of Abste­mius supper as much as thou wilt, and quietly take thy rest in Codrus Cabine, and vse vpon this (daily) good actiue ex­ercise of thy body; and then a strawe for Dame Podagra, and her disease.

Now to the second thing which I promised to proue: Men haue little reason to accuse me of cruelty, for I am not so bitter and austere to my people (my impatient Patients) as to giue them no remission and ease of their paine, as ma­ny other diseases are wont to be; which continually, with­out intermission, torment and afflict wretched men, as the Phthiriasis, Phthiriasis, the lowsie disease. Mentagra, a pocke or fretting scabbe. the Mentagra, the Leprosie, and a number such like diseases which are rebellious, and refuse all cure, and ne­uer forsake a man but with his life: but I am sometimes quiet, I giue ouer, and grant a long pause and rest to my sub­iects; like a good Husband-man, who is wont to vnyoke is wearied Oxen, and permitteth them to bee refreshed with rest and good pasture.

Againe, I am so gracious vnto them, knowing them (for the most part) to be of an haughty and proud heart, and to stand much vpon their Generositie, I satisfie their humour so far, that I become an Heraldesse vnto them, and doe blaze [Page 13] their armes fitted to their nature, and permit them Oneris causa (honoris I would say, we Feminines be bad Grammari­ans) to make ostentation openly of their ancient family and descent, which they euer carrie in their faces: and this is the cause that you should see their foreheads decked with pain­ted pustulls, their noses adorned with precious pyropes, vp­on their cheekes they beare curious wrought Carbuncles, and such like Escochions, that you may know that their birth is not base and obscure.

Besides, I am not so hurtfull as some affirme; as it plain­ly appeareth by this: That no man is much grieued, when he heareth his friend to be taken with the Gout, but is ra­ther merrie; he commeth vnto him, laugheth, iesteth, hee presenteth him with some pretie gifts, sitteth by him, tal­keth pleasantly, and as it were congratulateth with him, as doe also his kinde neighbours, which come daily to visite him; which surely they would neuer doe, if I were so dan­gerous, troublesome and hurtfull, as they pretend; for there is no man, when he heareth his friend to be affected with any incurable Maladie, that will laugh, sport and iest, but rather weepe and be sad: for how can he be a friend, that laugheth at the misery of a friend? and if men laugh at me, they plain­ly shew, that they think me ont to be the plague of humane kinde.

Againe, marke (I beseech you) my gentle and louing proceedings with my subiects: Note. first, before I afflict them, I warne them, by touching a little their great toe; telling plainly: If they refraine not from contrary meates, keepe not a good dyet, but inuite me by their intemperancy, I will pinch them to the quicke, and (like Proteus) alter my forme and name: I will possesse the whole foote only, and then my name is Podagra; If they will take no warning, but wallow in their ryot, I will then proceed farther, strike harder, and come vp to knee, and then I will bee called, Genugra: if they still giue a deafe eare, and not leaue to prouoke mee, I will bee the Sciatica in their hippes, then the Chyragra in [Page 14] their hands; and lastly, I will whip them indeed, and bee PANTA PERI PANTON, and possesse their whole bo­dy so, that they shall haue little ioy to sing the Epicures song:

This being so, Membrifragus Bacchus cum membrifraga Cytheraea, progenerant natam membri­fragam Poda­gram. how can men iustly accuse me, which so louingly warne them, and bid them beware, for hee that is well warned, is halfe armed? Againe, when I begin (being so often called vpon) to infest any body; you shal see the whole company of his friends flocking vnto him, not to trouble him with distastefull cauills, but to recreate his mind with pleasant discourses, & as congerrones lepidissimi, spend the day in mirth, In Graec. Epi­gram. which would neuer be, if I, the causer of this plea­sure, were away.

By this which I haue sayd it is manifest, that there is no man of so obtuse and dull conceit, but plainely seeth that mine enemies do not only vniustly accuse me, but also shew themselues to be the bruers of their owne bane, and if there be any fault in me, it is farre lesse then they thinke or would haue it.

But now for my kind slaue M. The couetous wretch. Muck-worme (that I may not passe him ouer without a name) the couetous Caitife, that Churle, I meane, that cunning Chymist, that hath the skill to conuert euery thing into gold, who hath studied all his life the blacke Art, to coniure coyne by all meanes into the circle of his purse; he will not heare the complaints of the poore, for he is deafe to the cries of his owne belly, hee wrinkleth his owne skin, and contracts his owne corps, that he may keepe me out; hee hath long stolne from many, and now hee is become a plaine Rob-thiefe, and stealeth from himselfe.

Now, because this slaue keepeth his coine to look on only, and not to vse, putteth the best metall in his coffer, and the worst meate into his mouth, so crosseth pride (which hol­deth the dearest things the best) that he counteth nothing good for his stomake, but what is cheapest, and that he may [Page 15] not diminish his stock, Nil praeter betas dura (que) rupa vorat. to saue charges, denieth wholsom a­limēts to his own body; and feedeth on grosse flesh, watrish herbes and roots, Alciat. fusty, musty, mixed, mity, mouldy meats: all his exercise is to sit in his Counting-house, and to looke vpon his Nouerints; or in the chimney corner poring in an Almanacke to presage a dearth, and in a plentifull yeere would euen hang himself, with sorrow, were it not for char­ges to buy an halter, and is already the diuels Lacky; I will also make him my slaue, for his liuer being by such dyet cor­rupted, his bloud putrified, infinit crudities increased, I will prepare a seate in his sinewes for me to fit, I will minister iu­stice in his ioints, and send him speedily to his blacke master Pluto, to dwell in Acheron for euer; but inough of this: I haue long abused your patience with vnpleasant discourse, now to make amends, I wil proceed to a more pleasing sub­iect, and speake of the commodities and profit, which I am wont to cause vnto men: only I shall request you (ô ye Iud­ges) as hitherto yee haue done, to giue an attentiue care to what I shall say. I deny not, that to many I seeme very trou­blesome and grieuous; but if they would rightly consider, they should verily finde many good things, which by my meanes they enioy, which, were it not through my benefit, they should want. The commodi­ties of the Gout. How many (I pray you) for my sake are honored, to whom no man els would giue the way? for as soone as they see me a companion with any, euery man gi­ueth place, lest they should throng or hurt me; yea though they be farre my betters both by age and condition. Many ride stately in Coaches, or are carried on horse-back, which were it not for me, might goe on foote. I am willed often­times, euen before Kings and great States to sit when all o­ther doe stand: yea many times when I ioine my selfe with Noble men (for commonly I neuer depart from such) Prin­ces themselues cause their seruants to bring me a stoole, or chaire, when otherwise I might stand long inough. Consi­der (ô Iudges) whether these things be not of high esteeme and request with all men? which all men desire, which all men seeke for?

[Page 16] And not only at meetings, but at feasts also I am honou­red before others: for commonly I am placed in the highest roome, and though the table bee furnished with variety of dishes; yet because all meates are not agreeable to mee, and likewise that it bee not offensiue to my disease, one dainty dish or other is prouided onely for me of purpose; and all others holding their peace, I only am permitted, and willed to call for whatsoeuer I thinke fittest and conuenient for my infirmitie; and is not this (I pray you) a great ho­nour?

But haply some froward cauiller may here reply: This is done not for honour sake, but in regard of their miserie. I answere, that men are wont to respect not so much, why a thing is done, as the good that commeth thereby; and it is sufficient to me, that I am permitted to doe that, which is not granted to another, and this I repute a great honour: a poore man considereth not so much why, or from whence hee receiueth a benefit, as hee is glad in the present fruition thereof.

And why speake I of poore men? Doe wee not dai­ly see rich and great men to possesse whole Fields, Man­nors, Lordships, and yet little regard whether by right or wrong, so they may haue and enioy them? And I doubt not but there are many poore men that would thinke them­selues happie, if they might exchange their pouertie for this calamity, Hee speaketh ac­cording to their manners in Germanie. and bee freed from labour, and suffer no want. And what, I pray you, is more delicate then those rich men, with whom I dwell? what more neate then their furniture? what more elegant then their houses? If thou come to visite them, thou shalt find their lodgings, not to lye sluttish, rude and filthy, as other mens, but all things are cleane, bright and finely trimmed, and decked like the Tauernes at a Faire, or as the Temples vpon high festiuall dayes; so that thou shalt finde many which had rather bee sicke with such abundance, then be in health with extreame pouertie.

[Page 17] Beside, their visiting friends present them with whatso­euer excellent and elegant thing the vvhole Citie affor­deth, which may either delight the eyes, please the taste, or recreate the care: there shall yee see things curiously wrought; thither are brought of rathe and first fruits, and what nouelty soeuer the season of the yeere can produce: there is to be seene whatsoeuer is strange and delectable a­mong men; there are not wanting such as carrie rumors, and newes, and with pleasant tales recreate the minde, and mi­tigate griefe; yea, the affaires of Emperours, Kings, States, Countries, either of peace or warre, are related, descanted vpon, censured, decided among themselues; one telleth what is done among the Indians, another, among the Ita­lians, another discourseth of France, Spaine, Germany, &c. Of all these things, by my meanes, men haue intelligence, though (perhaps) they are ignorant what is done in their owne houses; Torqueo. podi­gra. and thus whiles I detaine men with my busi­nesse, I oftentimes preserue them from great dangers. R. Nescis senc­ctutis mo [...]em? incomitata non venit; magnam saepe morbo [...]um aciem ducit. For, as long as a man is afflicted with the Gout, they will nei­ther commit themselues to the raging Seas, nor expose themselues in hunting, to the furie of wild Beasts, they will not quarrell, fight, or commit murther, they neede not feare the breaking of their head, through the fall of a stone from an house; Petrace. de re­med. vtaus (que) for. lib. 2. dial. 84. sed extra teli iactum, but safe from all danger, securely heare the misfortunes of others spoken of.

Againe, do I not free men from the managing of state af­faires, and from the most troublesome busines of the Court and of Princes, which without my fauour would perplex them with perpetuall cares, and sorrowes? And yet, in the meane time, I am not wanting and carelesse (you must thinke) in my domesticall businesse; but like a good hus­band, I strenuously crie vpon my companie; I counsaile, yea and compell them to apply their worke, looke vnto their charge for the increasing of my wealth; which I may the more easily doe, the lesse I am hindred by walking abroad. For, though sometime my feete deny their office, yet it fol­loweth [Page 18] not, that they should bee altogether vnprofitable to my Cellars, Store-houses, and questuary Arts; but the more impotent they are to walke from home, the more apt a great deale are they to my domesticall gaines: the masters eye, they say, maketh his horse fat: and I by sitting in my chaire, or going vpon 3. legges about the house, with a Snayles pace, doe get more wealth, and acquire more riches, then I possibly could by running about, Haec his bina, canes, & aues, serui, at (que) ca­balli. hawking, hunting, ga­ming, riding, company-keeping, and vaine pleasures: and thus you see in my bands men wex more wealthie, then if they enioyed their full libertie, Dicuntur domi­nos saepe vorare suos. so beneficiall I am to my ser­uants, in making them rich.

These (ô Iudges) are things not to be contemned: Hounds, hawkes and horse, ser­uants and whores, oft turne their masters out of dores. but you shall heare farre greater; for whiles I am thus occupied about things pertaining to the body, I do not in the meane time neglect the minde, but haue a speciall care for the cul­ture and adorning thereof. You are not ignorant, that lear­ning, and the knowledge of good Arts, are to be preferred before all riches and honors: for look how much difference there is betweene a stock and a man, so much a learned wise man excelleth an vnlearned Dolt. But I am a most excellent Teacher of Arts, and I could name many, which through my benefit, haue attained to great learning and knowledge of the tongues: for while they haue nothing els to doe, they addict themselues to good litterature, and that they might not suffer their time vainely to slip away, they dayly con­tend to become more learned: but what speake I of ordina­ry learning? am not I most expert in instituting my seruants in the liberall Sciences, and in all circular knowledge of the globe? especially in that most pleasant and skilfull Art of Musike, Musike. by whose harmony, sweet Symmetricall measures and modulations, I expell cares, and wonderfully with my admirable tones of Musike delight the eares.

I also teach them the Art of Rethorike; Rhethoricke. for I am not ig­norant thereof, as far as is requisite for vs Females to know: for as soone as a man in taken with the Gout, I presently [Page 19] furnish him with matter of excuse out of the very bowels of Rethorike, for they are ashamed to confesse my disease: one sayth, that hee wrung his foot with a strait boot; another, that hee hurt his toe against a stone; another saith, with a slide hee hath wrested his ankle; another, that he tooke a fall: and very ingenious they are to frame excuses to con­ceale their griefe, and blind mens eyes very craftily, and not only perswasiuely after the manner of Rethoricians, but also like Logicians, subtilly reasoning and disputing, with ma­ny arguments, and al to shake off the imputation of my dis­ease, which they are ashamed (forsooth) to acknowledge; yea, and confirm it by oath too, if you wil not beleeue them, so hatesome is my name vnto them. But to omit these infe­riour sciences, doe not I also furnish with knowledge of the celestiall Orbes? Astrologie. as Astrologie, a most ancient and diuine Art, the prayses whereof, if I would, yet I am not able to vnfold, an Art so excellent, that the ancients ascribe the in­uention thereof to their supposed gods, and was in old time in such account, that none but Kings and wise men were thought worthy of the knowledge thereof.

This Art I teach my seruants, and so infuse it into their bodies, Arithmeticke. that euen the Art of numeration, or Tables, they perfectly vnderstand it: not that they are ignorant in A­rithmeticke, which I teach them, when (as I said) they are so much giuen to pecuniarie matters, that being holden in my bonds, they are more auaricious then when they were free.

But marke now (I pray you) a miracle, which wonder­fully commendeth my force and industry: to vnderstand the motions & change of the heauens, they need no Tables, Globes, Astronomicall instruments, or figures; for before there happen any coniunction, eclipse, any alteration of weather, the change, full, quarters of the Moone, or any dire aspect of the Planets, I cause them to know it, not so much in minde, as in very deede to feele the effects thereof in their bodies.

[Page 20] And that, not only in the great and splendent lights, they are so perfect, but also in the errant stars; so that the infaust aspects, either of cold Saturne, or raging Mars, or when they obliquely behold each other; Horoscope is a di­ligent marking of the time of the birth of a child. or when the Horoscope it selfe, or the Moon the gouernesse of mans life, shall be in­fected with their disastrous influences, all this cannot bee hidden from them. There are none that can more exactly and certainly foretell of stormes, raine, haile, snowe, tem­pests, or any alteration of weather then my seruants can, for they alwaies carrie a Kalender in their bones; yea, they pre­sage this two or three dayes before it come: and may they not (I pray you) through this presaging of times and sea­sons attaine vnto ripe wisedome, which consisteth in these three things?

Are not these great things (ô ye Iudges) and full of admi­ration? yet is it also no lesse prayse-worthy, that I teach my Podagricall seruants, Physike. the excellent Art of Physike, then which, scarce any thing more singular, for the preseruation of mankinde, is giuen of God: This I inculcate and beate into their heads, euen against their wils. So that many times they vnderstand the vertue of hearbs, flowers, plants, seeds, rootes, trees, gummes, leaues, mineralls, more exactly then the Physicions themselues: besides, their knowledge in the bloud of beasts, their skinnes, milke, galls, fat, bones, nerues, and vrine, &c. I instruct them to discerne what is cold and what is hot, what is drie and what is moyst, what is stipticke and what is repulsiue, what is aperitiue, attrac­tiue, instauratiue, and solutiue, what in vertue is of the first degree, what of the second, what of the third: and this I teach them not onely to know, but also to practice, in ma­king pultisses, cataplasmes, baths, repercussiues &c. as in all other things, so in this, I make my seruant excell not only in Theoricke, but also in the Practick: no maruell then if by [Page 21] my meanes they know the histories of all Nations, and read the fables of all Poets, and (which is a note of a generous mind) when others make a gaine of their profession, I teach all this freely, without any hire at all. And when other Em­perickes proue practices, by killing a number, my experience is safe and secure: hence came this saying; Nouo medico no­uo opus est sepulcreto, a new Physician had neede of a new Church-yard; A pretie tale. and therefore Nicocles affirmed, that such Physicians were the happiest of all men, and why? Quontam successus eorum sol videt, errores autem tellus operiret, because the sunne seeth their good successes, but their errors are hid in the ground, The Kings Euill, or Yellow Iaun­dise, which through the ouer­flow [...]ng of the gall, maketh the skinne looke yel­low like gold. that is, in the graue: yet are they so insolent and proud, that a stranger vpon a time comming into a Ci­tie, and seeing a Physician ietting in golden chaines, and rich clothing, asked what Noble man that was? it was an­swered, that he was no Noble man; but a Physician. He re­plyed, ô God, what an honest Physician is this, which ta­keth from other bodies the Kings Euill, and putteth it on his owne body! Hippocrates. But if my seruants would follow Hippo­crates counsaile: Cibus, potus, somnus, venus, sint omnia mode­rata; Meate, drinke, sleepe, venus, let all bee with moderation, perhaps they would little need my physike or theirs.

These things being so: yee vnderstand, as I thinke, (O vpright Iudges) what great benefits I bestow vpon mine accusers, and also how vngratefully, yea, more then barba­rously they requite my kindnesse; but what they haue been long deuising to obiect against that which I haue sayd, I know well enough: to wit, that all these things are not to be reputed as benefits, but rather as markes of extreme mi­serie, and that I am the bane and mischiefe of mankinde, rather then a fautrixe or benefactrixe: A description of beautie. for first, for the beau­ty of the face, which is wont to chaine all men in the linkes of the loue thereof, which consisteth (as wee Females best know how to describe it) in a large, square, well extended, and cleere front, eye-browes well ranged, thinne and sub­till, the eye well diuided, cheerefull, sparkling; as for the [Page 22] colour, I leaue it doubtfull: the nose leane, the mouth lit­tle, the lips corraline, the chinne short and dimpled, the cheeks somewhat rising, and in the middle a pleasant louely gelasin, Gelasin, is a lit­tle dint, which in laughte, appea­reth in the cheekes, counted louely. the eares round and wel compact, the whole counte­nance with a liuely tincture of white and vermilion red, fa­cies roseo niueo (que) colore mista placet, this (say they) I change and marre, and exhaust the bloud, weaken the strength, take away sleepe, dimme the sight, diminish alacritie, abandon ioy, sport and laughter, incurue the ioynts, fingers, toes, and infeeble the whole body, and staine and obscure the fresh colour: but in this long and idle friuolous obiection, they shew themselues to bee sicke in minde; and therefore iudge rather by this passion, then discerne by reason: these doltish men know not, that they attribute vnto mee much more praise then disgrace among wise men, by this their ac­cusation; for while I weaken the body, I cure the Soule; while I afflict the flesh, I strengthen the Spirit; while I purge out what is earthly, I bring in what is heauenly; while I di­minish what is temporary, I conferre what is eternall.

No man is ignorant, that the bodie is the polluting pri­son of the Soule, the Soule cannot florish except the body fade and diminish; for this grosse lumpe of the flesh is an impediment vnto the Soule, that it cannot mount aloft in the contemplation of heauenly things, it layeth a thousand lets, and casteth as it were darke clouds, whereby the sharp­nesse of the minde is obfuscate and blinded, that it cannot see nor follow the truth; and with how many cares and anxieties are men pearced, in procuring the things pertai­ning to this mortall body, and vse of this fraile life? I speak not of superfluous things, but of things very necessarie, though (as the Poet sayth:)

[Page 23] And what is aboue necessaries, may be called the sicknes­ses or maladies of the minde, as pleasures, opinions, feares, perturbations, desires, loue, hatred, &c. which seldome or neuer permitteth the minde to be at rest, like the violent force of fire, which causeth the water alwaies to boile vp till it be remoued. For what (I pray you) stirreth vp warres, brawles, murthers, seditions, rapines, iniuries; but the flesh and the desire of hauing which is neuer satisfied? For wee see now a dayes mony is able to atchiue all things. And all this the loue of this fraile body compelleth vs to doe, which is the cause, that while we pamper vp the body our thoughts are farre estranged from any care taking of the Soule, and our mindes distracted from prouiding for the life to come; for our senses are like vnto violent horses, which without the reines of reason runne away violently with the chariot, but the soule like a waggoner holdeth the bridle; and ther­fore as horses without a guide, so the flesh without reason and rule of the minde runneth hastily to its owne ruine: what a slauery is it then to serue our owne appetite? I re­member a lesson which I learned long agoe of a learned Preacher: D. B. That in choosing a Master euery man will shun three sorts of men; his enemie, his fellow, his seruant. Hee that serueth the Diuell, serueth his greatest enemy; he ser­ueth his fellow, who serueth the lust of the flesh; he serueth his seruant, who serueth the world; it is a base seruice to serue the world, for that is to become a slaue to our ser­uant: it is an vncertaine seruice to serue the flesh, for it is so fraile, weake and sickly, that he may looke euery day to be turned out of dores, and which is worst of all, it is least contented when it is most serued; but to serue the diuell, is the vnthriftiest seruice of all, for the wages hee payeth, is e­ternall death.

Wherefore, wise men are wont to sequester themselues as farre as they may, from the commerce of the bodie and worldly affairs, to the end, that the mind may the more free­ly bee lifted vp to the contemplation of heauenly things; [Page 24] and the more a man is auerted from the bodie, the more hee is conuerted to heauenly meditations, hee abstaineth from fleshly desires, he subdueth his pleasures, he little esteemeth honors riches, nobilitie, fame, and whatsoeuer the world holdeth most precious: he feareth not ignominie, pouertie, affliction, nor death it selfe, and all things which are contra­rie to the flesh, that hee most desireth. And wise men are wont to measure their life not by the number of yeeres, but by the time they haue liued well.

I haue read of one Similus, who hauing spent the greatest part of his life, A Historie. in the troublesome employments of the weale publick, and being now old, retired himselfe into a Farme hee had in the Countrie, and gaue himselfe to prayer and contemplation; and when hee dyed, commanded this Epitaph to be set vpon his Tombe:

Hic iacet Similus, cuius at as multorum a [...]orum fuit, ipse dun­taxat septem annos vixerit.

Here lyeth Similus, whose age was of many yeeres, but he liued only seuen.

But whoso serueth his bodily sences, besides that hee must needs depart from the path of vertue, he shall neuer obtaine what he desireth: for being deceiued with the false shewes of goodnes, he loseth the substance for to catch the shadow, and as the body tooke beginning from the earth, so the soule had her originall from heauen, as one saith not vnfitly:

The body as a seruant should be subiected vnto the com­mand of the soule; the one is heauenly and immortall, the other common to vs with the brute beasts. Nothing ther­fore is more excellent then the soule, nothing more diuine, it as farre excelleth the body, as the master doth his seruant, as the liuing doth the dead; and as the body maketh earthy things its full scope and marke whereat it only aymeth, so the minde erecteth it selfe to heauenly things, as to the pro­per end for which it was created. Yee see here (O Iudges) [Page 25] how much more noble the Soule is then the bodie.

But now will I addresse my selfe, The prrfite it causeth to body and soule. to shew what a passing excultrix and adorner I am of the minde, and how much I garnish the celestiall Soule, whiles I extinguish the vices of the bodie; albeit I doe not alwaies hurt the bodie, but am wont commonly to profit it also: for I attenuate superflu­ous fatnesse, I drie vp humours which redound through in­temperance, and consume them, lest they should encrease to a huge greatnesse, and bring no small danger to the whole bodie. Againe, as Physicians affirme, I also prolong the life: for except I did depell and driue down to the feet and ioints that noxious and pernicious matter, it would doubtlesse as­sault the braine, heart, liuer, and stomake, and soone extin­guish the vitall spirits: But to omit those things which per­taine to the body, let vs proceed to mens vices and infirmi­ties, which I aboue others am very expert to cure; so that in this Art I yeeld to none, whether Philosopher or Diuine: for I am not only an impediment and curbe to my seruants, that they runne not headlong in wickednesse, but also the vices which through custome are become inueterate, I ex­tirpate and expell, and cause that they shall not sinne vnpu­nished and scot-free, which if I did not, they would neuer desist from their wickednesse, but stil adde sinne vnto sinne, euill vnto euill, til sinne forsake them.

Now first for this Monster pride, Pride. which is puppis ac prora, the very head and taile of all euill, I must a little insist vpon this as I learned of a Preacher.

Gregory (sayth he) maketh 4. kinds of proud men: 1. The arrogant proud. Mor. lib. 23. cap. 27. 2. The presumptuous proud. 3. The boasting proud. 4. The despising proud person. The first attributeth e­uery good thing in himselfe, to himselfe, and not vnto God. The second will confesse God to be the giuer of all graces, but vpon their owne merit. The third boast of their ver­tues, which indeede they haue not. The fourth affecteth a kinde of singularity and puritie, in that he hath, or suppo­seth to haue: Vitia catera in peccatis superbia, etiam in benefa­ctis [Page 26] timenda, when other sinnes dye, secret pride gets strength in vs, ex remedijs generat morbos, euen vertue is the matter of this vice; Aquin. par. 1. quaest. 63. Art. 2. though all sinnes are in the diuell secundum re­atum, in respect of the guilt, yet only pride and enuie is in him secundum effectum, according to the effect, he is guilty of all sinne, for he tempteth to all sinnes, but pride is his owne proper sinne, Bern de Passio. his beloued Paragon; his Rimnon, saith Bernard, his Character, Dom. cap. 19. saith another, it was the first sinne, and it shall be the last; for as other sinnes decrease, secret pride doth increase: pride is like Coloquintida, which spoileth the whole pot of pottage. Why then art thou proud, ô dust and ashes, whose conception is sinne, Ecc. 10. whose life is miserie, whose end is rottennesse and corruption? Initium vitae coecitas, & obliui [...] possidet, progressum labor, dolor exitum, error omnia; et diu vi­uendo portant funera sua. Petrarch. Childhood is but foolish sottishnes, youth but a precipitate heate, manhood labour and carking carefulnesse, olde age but a bundle of diseases, and all the rest error, and the end, extreme paine: Oh then what a fol­ly is pride?

But I make pride and ambition strike their sayles, and coole their courage, when my force teacheth them how lesse then nothing mans arrogancie is, how vaine is beauty, how weake the strength of body, how fluid our humours, how fleeting our wealth, Nobilitie a nest of nothings, humane glory but a gust of wind; I cause them to remember that they are but mortalls, whom pride perswaded to be Gods equalls. En [...]ie. Againe, while I teach the myriades of mans mise­ries, I quench enuy, emulation, detraction, and the imper­tinent care of vnnecessary things. For how can men be cu­rious in other mens matters, when they haue more then e­nough [Page 27] to doe with their owne? I take away malice and cauils, so that my seruants deuise no cunning, craftie cir­cumuentions of their neighbours, a thing too common (but with none but Atheists) in these dayes. They stirre vp no strife, brawlings, contention among others, which haue e­nough and more then enough to do with their owne griefs. And as for hatred and enuie, my seruants are so far from this vile passion, that they neither enuie, nor are enuied of others, (for misery is no obiect for enuie) and they deserue rather comfort and pitie.

These (ô Iudges) are matters of no small moment, but you shall heare greater. Three things hurtfull to the Gout. There are three things which are most infest enemies vnto my vassalls, though they daily receiue them, but vnto me they are very profitable: Gluttony, Vene­ry and Anger. But I respect not so much mine owne profite, as the health of my seruants: I warne them diligently to be­ware of these enemies, and if I finde that they contemne my warnings, I take reuenge vpon them for their contempt, and make them for their owne case, hereafter be more wary how they set light of my precepts. Gluttony. And as often as by de­uouring, they too much ingurge their guts, and superflu­ously gully downe wine, I am presently with them as a sharp reuenger, I plague them according to their deserts, and counsaile them henceforward not so lightly to esteeme my hests: yet am not I so agresticke and sterne, that I should de­nie moderate vse of meates, or altogether forbid Bacchus his liquor, but through my benefite they many times feede more delicately, Venu [...]. and are wont to drinke more freely; especi­ally, when they celebrate their solemnities with salacious Nymphes. But I deterre them from too much addicting themselues to the seruile seruice of that rude master Bacchus, and from being enthralled with the allurements of wanton Venus; so that my seruants dare very seldome or neuer com­mit adulteries, or whoredomes, I keepe them from vnclean­nesse, and preserue mayd and wise from their pollutions: but if they be vnruly, I so gripe them, that they shall repent [Page 28] of their exorbitant causes, and loath the Femall sexe: what greater benefit can their best friends confer vpon them, then to deliuer them from so many euils, Anger. and exempt them from so many perils, as are wont to follow Cupid that blind beard­lesse boy, and Venus a mother worthy such a sonne? And now for anger, what should I say? It is a vice full of fury and madnesse, which is wont to send hot and sharpe chole­rick humors into their ioints, which shall incessantly pricke and torment them; but none know better to cure this ma­lady then my selfe; they dare not for their life fall into these passions, lest I presently torment them, according to their deseruings, and make euen their bones to cracke.

Moreouer, as I expurge the flesh infected with infinite vices, so I adorn the mind and beautify it with many vertues, I suffer it not to be pressed downe, but doe eleuate it from earth to heauen, and stirre it vp to prayer and contempla­tion.

I thinke it cannot bee vnknowne vnto you, how the greatest part of men are inclined, that if fortune alwayes should fauour them, if their sweet should neuer be seasoned with sowre; if the world should euer smile vpon them, they would alwayes fixe their minds vpon earthly things, they would regard nothing but backe and belly, and like swine wallow in the puddle of their pleasures: but the afflictions which I lay vpon them may be likened vnto the tree, called Rhamnus, whose root, leaues and branches, though (as Phy­sicions say) they be exceeding bitter, yet are they very me­dicinable; for the seede thereof purgeth the body of all grosse humours, and the iuice thereof cleereth the sight. So afflictions, Aug in Psal. though to flesh and bloud they seeme austere and bitter, yet are they very healthfull to the Soule, they purge out the noysome humor of sinne, cleere the eyes of the minde which prosperity blindeth, that wee may truly know our selues, see our owne corruption, and become henceforward more warie how we offend our louing God, and fly vnto him in al our miseries; the scourge of affliction, [Page 29] awaketh the drowsie, humbleth the proud, purgeth the pe­nitent, and crowneth the innocent.

But I feare I haue too much offended your patience with my tedious prolixitie: I will therefore conclude with set­ting downe certaine particulars, to proue what a precious panacea and all-saluing plaister I am for the curing of all spi­rituall infirmities of the soule: and first for Selfe-loue, the pernicious daughter of Pride, the fountaine of much euill, the Lerna malorum, the Sentina and packe of all mischiefe in the world. Now for the abating of this vice; what remedy better then afflictions, which I lay vpon the flesh? I cause men thereby to know themselues, that in their best estate they are but a dung-hil couered with snow, subiect to paine, aches, sores, rottennesse and corruption, we were all taken out and fashioned of the same lumpe of clay, of the same piece of earth as the poorest and basest whom wee so de­spise; and so I teach men to esteeme of others as of them­selues, seeing we are all made of the same substance, all sub­iect to the same infirmities, and all hastening to the same end to become meate for wormes. Why then art thou proud, O earth and ashes, seeing that in thy most florishing prime, thou art but filthy slime, a packe of diseases, a sacke of infir­mities, a Store-house of miseries, thy body but compact of clay, thy head but a panne of earth, thy whole life besieged with a huge army of diseases, and euery one both threat­ning to arrest thee, and able to kill thee? Thus with my disease I stoope the proudest, and make selfe-loue to quaile.

And for the Viper Enuie that miserable fretting slaue, a wretch euer sad and pensiue; Anacharsis. for besides his owne griefes, he euer tormenteth himselfe at another mans felicitie: Senec. I say of him, as Seneca did once; I could wish that the eyes of the enuious were so opened, that in euery towne they might behold all that be in prosperity, that their torments might be increased; for as the ioies of others do increase, so the sorrowes of the enuious doe multiply: we can no way more [Page 30] vexe the enuious man, then by applying our selues to vertue: for he hath so many tormētors to scourge him, as his neigh­bour hath vertues to commend him. The poison of enuy is far worse then the poyson of Serpents; for their poyson hur­teth others, but not themselues: but the poyson of the en­uious hurteth themselues but not others. Moreouer, the en­uious man imagineth another mans good greater than it is, thereby to increase his owne sorrow and miserie.

To this purpose I remember a pretie tale; Note a pretie tale. that certaine Physicions meeting together, there grew a question among them concerning the chiefest medicine for the eies: one said fennell, another eye-bright, another greene glasse, &c. Nay (saith another merily) it is enuie; for that maketh other mens goods to seeme greater then they are, and confirmed it by this saying of the Poet:

There is a Fable, but it hath a good Morall, of the enui­ous man and the couetous man, they both went together into Iupiters Temple to pray: Note. Iupiter granted their petitions vpon this condition, that whatsoeuer the one did craue, the other should haue the same doubled; the enuious man asked many things, and had them, but the other alwaies had them doubled; the enuious man seeing this, was grieued, and prai­ed that he might lose one eye, and then reioiced that his fel­low had lost both his. See here what a ciabolicall sinne en­uie is, which careth not to hurt it selfe to doe a greater dam­mage vnto another.

But when I come to grapple with this Caytife, I will so perplexe him, and make him so wretched, that no man shall [Page 31] enuy him, nor himselfe haue little lust to enuy others. I tell him that he is most his owne enemy; for the man whom he enuieth, may depart from him, but he can neuer depart from himselfe: whithersoeuer he goeth, hee carrieth his enemy still in his bosome, his aduersary in his heart, his owne de­struction within himselfe, and thus I seeke to cure this ma­lady.

And for Couetousnes, Couetousnesse. I am like the clubbe of Hercules to beat it downe: when paines and incessant torments enforce the couetous worldling to confesse, and meditate with him­selfe, that riches are fickle, that the liues of the possessors are brittle, that transitory riches are but run-awayes, they will either runne from vs as they did from Iob, or we shall be ta­ken from them, (as the Preacher sayd) of the couetous worldly minded; Luc. 12. 20. Thou foole, this night shall thy soule be taken from thee. Abuc. 2. 3. The couetous man is like hell in the inlarging of his desires, Basil in hom. to containe all; more greedie (sayth Basil) then the very fire which goeth out when the matter faileth: but Couetousnesse is neuer quenched, whose desire burneth as well when he hath matter, as when he hath none, Hee al­waies goeth with a three-toothed flesh-hooke; the one is called Petax, which desireth all; the other, Rapax, which catcheth at all; the third, Tenax, which holdeth fast all. Now when the Gout gripeth him, I teach him to meditate thus with himselfe: O, what pleasure can I take in riches which I haue so greedily scraped together? I see they can yeeld me no ease at all, no, not so much as free me from a fit of feuer: I now take no more pleasure in them, Qui cupit aut metuit, &c. they no more delight me, then as the Poet sayth:

[Page 32] What ioy take I now in my stately houses, which I haue built by theft? in my large fields which I haue gotten by de­ceit? my cursed sacriledge, in deuouring Christs patrimo­ny, which will bee like the Eagles feather, to consume all that I shall leaue to my heire? in my reuenues, for which I haue damned mine owne soule? In my gold and siluer, which I haue heaped together with the sweat, yea with the bloud of the poore? what comfort take I in my life it selfe which I haue so vnprofitably spent, when I made my heapes my heauen, my gold my god, my lands my life? I see now I haue chosen drosse for gold, rust for siluer, losse for gaine, shame for honour, toile for rest, hell for heauen. I see now, all worldly cares are frustrate, and fruitlesse; I wil therfore aspire to heauenly treasure, which is eternall, which no rust can corrupt, no moth fret, no theeues steale; in regard wher­of all other things are but dung and drosse. I will now fixe my desires vpon the life to come, where there shall bee no sicknesse to afflict me, no maladie to torment mee, no gri­ping griefes to assault me. Thus, where there is any sparke of Gods Spirit, I teach men seriously to meditate; Happy, and thrice happy they, which haue the grace thus to sup­presse their inordinate desires of riches.

The ambitious man in his swelling humour, Ambition. which by all meanes seeketh to aspire vnto dignities and honour, who had rather be vulpeculae caput, quàm cauda leonis, the head of a foxe, then the tayle of a lyon, as the Prouerbe is: when I visite him, I cause him soone to strike his loftie sayles, I humble him, and enforce his haughty heart to stoop, I make him to know that he is like a Carbuncle, which is the name of a precious stone, and of a swelling sore or tumor: hee hath together glittering glorie, and wounding woe, hee li­ueth inter malleum & incudem, betwixt the hammer and the Anuile, Duplici laborat inuidia, inuide­tur ei, & inui­det ipse Senec. in Epist. 85. betweene hope and feare: I tell him that honour is not in honorato, sed in honorante, not in him which is honou­red, but in the mutable breath of the vulgar people: hee is sicke of a two-fold enuie, he enuieth others, and others en­uie [Page 33] him. I cause him with Moses, to choose rather to suffer affliction with the people of God, then to enioy the ho­nours of Pharaohs Court: I make him consider, that wee­ping and gnashing of teeth is the reward of the proud, and the requitall of the honours which the wicked haue in this life; I cause him seriously to say with himselfe: O why should I be so foolish as to suffer my selfe to be carried away with the vanities of pleasures, riches and honours, seeing I finde no contentation in them? I enforce him when he gro­neth of the Gout, to crie out: Vanitie of vanities, all is but va­nitie; and thus though I afflict the bodie, I lift vp the Soule, to the contemplation of heauenly things.

Now to my deare darlings, Loose, licentious liucis. those loose, lewd, licentious, lecherous, luskish Libertines of the carnall Crue, my filthy slaues, a word or two: I can stile them with no better titles, because they alwayes solicite, trouble, allure, and vexe me with their importunate calls, and with their riotous liuing, euen enforce me to come vnto them: The Pockes. therefore I am seldome absent in mine owne person, or els I send my sister, the La­dy Lues of Naples, to enfrenchise her selfe into their bones, a farre worse ghest then my selfe: and betwixt vs two they are so tormented, scourged and consumed, that our abun­dant humours, doe quickly put them out of their wanton humour, or els with feare, paine, and weaknesse vtterly dis­able them. Yet haue I an especiall regard of their Soules, for I cause them to consider, that this sinne shall neuer e­scape Gods reuenging hand, that they are no better then carnall Epicures, wholly sold ouer to iniquity, that they are like Stallions euer neighing after their neighbours wiues, 2. Pet. 2. 22. rather swine then men, whose delight is altogether to wal­low in the puddle of filthinesse, that they are like the Cen­taures, and Minotaures, whose vpper parts resemble men, but in the lower parts they are very horses and bulls. I labour to bring them to true mortification of the flesh, as of whore­dome, adulterie, gluttony, drunkennesse, reuenge &c. For what pleasure can the adulterer take in his fleshly lust, if [Page 34] he would but consider, Incipit a risu, curis coalcscit amaris, Desin [...]t in la­crymis improbus iste furor. Mant. that his euill life doth not onely (as Gods iust plague) fill him full of incurable diseases, but also makes him subiect to the eternall curse, to remaine in per­petuall torments, that his adulterie is a separation from Christ, and that the bed of his pleasures shall in the end bee the cabine of his teares, at the day of his death? This sinne beginneth with mirth, is continued with cares, and endeth in torment. Wanton pleasures begin in lust, proceed with shame, and end (for the most part) with pockes and conta­gion. These pleasures (as I heard our Preacher say) are a deepe pit, Prou. 22. 17. and none, but with whom the Lord is angrie, shall fall into it. And so by this meditation I labour to bring them to repentance, that their soules may be saued in the day of the Lord.

As for my little Lullabies, The vanity of beautie. Mistris Wag-tayle, the Wanton, and her fellowes, whose florishing fresh figure maketh proud (for fastus inest pulchris) when the rose and the lilly striue in their face for preeminence, whose Coraline lippes, cheerry cheekes, vermillion dye, louely eye, golden haire, &c. and other endowments of Nature they haue abused, to drawe the loose Libertines to the gaze, and to catch them in the snare: I will also plague these for the abuse of Gods gifts, in making them nets of the diuell to insnare vnstable soules. I taxe not all, who are adorned with the grace of beauty (for I know many of them sober, chaste, and modest) but such as loue not to bee too heauie, and are somewhat * Catholicke; Vniuersall or common. whose wanton life hath diffused many conta­gious humours, through their whole body, and yet haue a desire to seeme fairer in the eyes of vaine men, with a de­ceitfull foppery and painting, then with spirituall beauty of vertues, to shine before God and his Angells: whether their beauty consisteth in cleerenesse of skinne, which is cal­led Pulchritude, or in neatnesse of bodie, which is called Forme; I know how to abate their pride: if they were as faire as Nereus, Nereus. I will soone make them as deformed as Ther­sites, their faire hue I make pale and wanne, Thersites. when their bo­dies [Page 35] are replenished with euill [...], which wil breed [...] their bodies swellings, tumors, vlcers, gouts, lepries, &c. the re­ward of a wicked life, and so I will enforce them to confesse with wise Salomon, Fauour is deceitfull, and beautie is but vani­tie.

Another most excellent lesson I teach my Clients, Friendship. and that is, how to make choyce of a true friend, a thing in these dayes most profitable; I tell them, and make them feele, that they are no faithfull friends, which draw vs to prodi­galitie, riot, drunkennesse, as are our pot-companions, ca­rousers, health-drinkers, &c. whereby the Soule is pollu­ted, the body defiled, crudities engendred, and I with my disease constrained to scourge them, and bring them to ru­ine: but they are to be reputed out true friends, which coun­sell vs to sobriety, temperance, moderation in eating and drinking, chastity, and such like, whereby health is preser­ued, nature rectified, strength maintained, my malady ex­pelled, and life prolonged. And here I remember a wise in­struction deliuered by our Pastor, for we talkatiue Femails haue not the worst memorie; ( Oportet mendacem esse memo­rem.) There is (saith hee) a counterfait friend, a time-seruing friend, a false-hearted friend.

The counterfait friend goeth alwaies masked, in his 1 mouth he hath alwayes Aue, All-haile, God blesse you, but in his heart he hath, Caue, Take heed of me, I will cut thy throat: such euer giue poyson in a golden pill, he is totus vis­cosus, all lime, Reade Ecc. 6 ver. 7, 8, 9, &c. his words are lime, his gestures lime, his coun­tenance lime, and all to catch thee as the Fowler doth the bird, his words are complementall, but his heart deuiseth thy downe-fall: all his plots are for his owne profit, and glosings for his owne gaine, hee riseth by thy fall, and get­teth by thy losse; a man cannot bee too circumspect and heedfully wary of such: Try and trust, for there are many lurking holes in mans heart.

The time-seruing friend is like the Cuckoe, or the Swal­low, 2 which in the pleasant spring, and summer of thy pro­sperity, [Page 36] will take pleasure in thee, and warme himselfe at the sun-shine of thy fortunes; Nullus ad amis­sas ibit amicus opes. but in the winter of aduersitie, he will not know thee: no longer a friend, then on the win­ning side.

3 The false-hearted friend, his policie is to diue into thy bosome, and sound the secrets of thy heart, that he may vn­dermine thee in thy purpose, hold thee still in feare, and hurt thee at his pleasure:

By secret policie, and Machiuilian traines, seeking to effect that which they cannot by honest meanes, nor violent cour­ses; a Herod within, and a Iohn without; a wicked Politi­cian in a Ruffe of the Precisian sett. T. A. Shallow honesty, is better then the quick-sands of subtiltie, and plaine dealing is a good plaine song, Palling. as one accutely saith; this counsell of the Poet in this case is not to be despised:

Take heed of such friends, and be not hastie to entertaine friendship with any: and so much for this.

Now if any will obiect, Ob. that all other diseases can effect these things which I haue spoken of, as well as I or better: That I denie, Ans. and vtterly deny: For other diseases do quick­ly, some sodainly, suppresse life, or do so afflict them that they haue scarce any leisure to thinke on their Soules health but it is farre otherwise with me, for I know how to extend my force, and when need requireth, in conuenient time to remit it againe and giue them ease, which other diseases sel­dome doe.

Albeit (O Iudges) I could alledge much more for my selfe, yet will I now make an end, when I haue shewed by [Page 37] the example of great men, that my societie is neither shame­full, nor wretched. It is the part of Heroicall and Noble mindes, indifferently to suffer prosperitie and aduersitie, and to make a vertue of ineuitable necessitie. And to let passe many Potentates of the Earth: that Troian Monarch, Pria­mus, admitted me into his golden Palace; Peleus, Bellero­phon, and Oedipus, did not exclude me; Plisthenes, Prothe­silus, and prudent Vlisses, receiued mee courteously; and haply (which some may wonder at) Achilles himselfe, though swift of foot, could not auoid my power. Let the Grecians fable as much as they will, That hee was displeased for the taking away of his Paragon; it was I that kept him from the battaile; I, (I ywis) was that Brises, which made him contemne the entreatie of the Grecians. Would not now a­ny wise man chuse rather to suffer some hardnesse, with those famous Noble Personages, then with vile, base, and abiect persons, to wallow in Swinish pleasures? and rather labour to adorne his mind with Vertue, then like brute Beasts, to become a slaue to the belly, and corruptible flesh?

Ye haue heard (O Noble Iudges) my iust Apologie: now it remaineth, that I beseech you to weigh all things in the ballance of Equitie, and then by your vpright sentence free me from these malicious calumniations and false accusati­ons, which my wicked enemies lade me with, when them­selues are most in fault, and inflict vpon them deserued pu­nishment for their licentious and filthie liuing: so shall Truth be honoured, your selues for Iustice com­mended, and my Accusers reformed, and my selfe bound incessantly to pray vnto the Almightie, that your Honours bee neuer tou­ched with my dis­ease.