❀The first cōclusion or Paradoxe, vvher­in is proued that nothinge is good and laudable but only that vvhich is ho­neste and vertuous.

I Feare some of you wyll deeme and thynke, that this my talke & discourse is not deuised and inuen­ted by me of myne owne braine, but borowed and fetched out of the disputacions of the Stoykes.

Yet neuertheles I wil franckly say what I thinke, and in fewer wordes then so great a thinge can wel be de­clared. Trulye I neuer iudged nor thought that richesse, wealth, sump­tuous buildings, Reuenues, Terri­tories, Dominions, and bodely plea­sures (wherin folish worldlinges set their chiefe delighte) were worthy to be reckened amonge such thinges as are good and expetible. For I do see, [Page] that although they haue great plen­tie & foyson of such trāsitory things, yet be they euer coueting and hūting after more, lacking aswel that which they haue, as that whiche they haue not, because their greedie desire and thirste of money and couetousnes is neuer stenched nor satisfyed. And they haue not onely an inward vexa­cion and disquietnes of mind by rea­son of the vnsaciable desire and luste that they haue to encrease and aug­ment that Substaunce which they already possesse, but also euer stande in dreade and feare to loose the same by one casualtie or other. And in this poinct, I oftentimes finde a lacke of discretion, in our Auncestoures and predecessours, which were men of li­uing most vertuous and continente, who by the bare and onely name, de­med and called these vncertaine and transitory goodes and wares (which are commutable betweene man and [Page] man in their bargaines & traffique) to be good: whereas in verye deede, they thought farre otherwise, thenne theyr words outwardly purported. Can a thinge that is simplie good, be in an euil man? Or can any man that is endewed & garnished with those things that be good in deede, be any other then a good and vertuous mā? But all these and such like we see to be such, that both naughtie men may possesse them, and good men by them may be hurt and damnifyed. There­fore if any be so peeuishly disposed to reprehende and mocke me for so say­inge, let him not spare, I force not. For truth and sound reasō shall with mee be euer preferred before the rash iudgementes & waueringe opinions of the foolishe multitude. Neyther wil I say, that any man hath lost his good thinges, when he hath loste his Cattell or household stuffe. Neyther can I chose, but oftentimes to praise [Page] and greatly commend the wise man Bias (as I thinke) who was rekoned and accompted one of the seuen wyse Sages of Greece. For when his citie Priene was by the Enemye taken & ransacked, al the Inhabitaunts shif­ting for them selues, & conuaighinge them selues out at a Posterne gate, with bagge and baggage, as muche as they could carie, hee was aduised and counsayled by one of his frends to do semblably: I do (quoth hee) euē aswell as they. For I carye awaye with mee, all such goods and possessi­ons as are mine: meaning his vertue, wisedome and learninge. But as for worldlye pelfe and transitorie goods whiche are subiecte to the variable chaunce and hazard of blind dalying fortune, he thoughte were not to bee called his owne proper goods, which we do call and terme good. What is good then (will some say) or what is ment therby. If what soeuer is done [Page] rightlye, honestly, and accordinge to vertue, be sayde to be done well and laudablie, then it followeth, y ^t what­soeuer is right, honest and according to vertue is (as I thinke) only good. But these thinges may seeme to bee somewhat obscure and not able to be vnderstode of euery weake capa­citie, for asmuch as they are but cold­ly and superficially handled and dis­puted without any examples. Ther­fore to illustrate & beautifie the same with more grace and pleasauntnes, we must introduce and bryng in the liues and worthy actes of noble per­sonages and menne for the vertues renowmed, syth they seeme to be dis­puted more subtillye with woordes then effectually with deedes. Well, I demaund of you, whether you thinke that those noble and excellente men which were the first founders of our common wealth, and established the same wyth good and commendable [Page] Lawes, did cast all their studye and whole minde vpon the greedy and in­saciable desire of Golde and Siluer which tended onely to auarice, or vp­on pleasures deuised to contente the phantasy, or vpō new fangled trickes of houshold stuffe being instruments of nycenes, or vppon sumptuous fare and belly chere being the ministers & occasions of voluptuousnes? Set be­fore your eyes euery one of the kings. Will you beginne with Romulus? Or els with those valiaunte Gentlemen which deliuered our city from miserable thraldome and slauery? By what degrees (I pray you) did Romulus as­cend and attayne to be deified and as­sociated to the number of the Gods? by such vayne pleasures whiche these grosse Beetleheades call good? or els by his valiaunt actes and woorthye vertues? What say we to Numa Pom­pilius? Do we not think that the gods were aswell pleased with his homely [Page] pots and earthen pitchers wherein he offred vp his sacrifice, as they were with the riche goblets and delicate Cuppes of others that succeded hym? I omit the rest: for they were all egall in vertue and prowesse, one wyth an other, excepte Tarquinius superbus. But if a man should aske Brutus, what he entended or whereaboute he wente, when he expelled the kinges and re­stored his country to liberty, or what marke he and his felowes & confede­rates shot at in enterprising and ad­uenturing the same, cā it be thought, that anye of them did it for pleasure sake, or for Richesse, or for any other purpose, otherwise then became men of approued fortitude and magnani­mitie? what caused Quintus Mutius Sceuola to hazarde hys lyfe wythout all hope euer to escape or returne in sauety, when he conuaighed himselfe in­to king Porsenna his campe, meaning to haue dispatched & slayne the king [Page] in his own pauilion? What manhode and valiaunce remayned in Horatius Cocles? What notable exploites did he when he alone defended the Bridge or passage ouer the riuer Tiber against the armed route of all hys enemies? What violence enforced or compelled Decius the father voluntarily to vow and obiecte himselfe to death, by pres­sing into the middle of hys enemies hostes? What caused Decius the youn­ger, Sonne to hym aforesayde, to do semblably? What pretended the con­tinency of C, Fabritius? What ment the homelye fare and slender cheere of M. Curius? What say we to the two sure pillers and inuincible Buttresses of the Romaine nacion the twoo Scipioes, what worthy seruice did thei to their country in the Punique warres? Who chose and were willing euen wyth their own bodies as it had bene with a wal or Rampiere to stoppe the pas­sage of the army that came to ayde & [Page] succour the Carthaginians? What en­tended the younger Africanus? What desired the elder? What coueted Cato, who liued betwene these two mens times and innumerable others? For we haue store of domesticall exam­ples in our owne countrey. Do we thinke that any of these were euer in that opinion, to desire or seeke for any thynge in their lyfe, but onelye that whiche they supposed and deemed to be good, vertuous & laudable? Ther­fore let all suche as mocke and deride this opinion step forth and shew their faces, and let them flatly confesse and iudge themselues, whether they had leifer be like to any of these riche and fatte Chuffes, whose gorgeous hou­ses and buildings are garnished with the finest marble stones, enameled & beset with yuory and Gold▪ beautifi­ed and adorned with pictures and I­magery, Tables, store of plate both of Gold and siluer curiously chased and [Page] engrauen and other precious and ar­tificiall Corinthian woorkes: or els be like to C. Fabritius, who neuer had nei­ther would euer haue any of all these? Notwithstanding they are not so ob­stinately wedded to their owne fond reasons and selfe willes, but they will sone be perswaded to relent and con­fesse that these mutable & vncertaine goods & wares which serue for mu­tuall bargayning one man with an other, are not worthy to be rekoned a­monge those thynges that are good. But this poynt they do stiffely main­taine and earnestly defend, that plea­sure is the greatest goodnes and the highest felicity. Which saying in my opinion semeth rather to procede out of the mouthes of brute beastes then of men.

Wilt thou therefore so much abase and cast away thy self, seing that god or nature (being the common mother of all thynges) hath geuen to thee a [Page] minde, then whiche there is nothinge more excellente and deuine that thou shouldest thinke no difference to be betwene thee, and a dum beast? Is any thing good, that doth not make him that possesseth it to be better? For as euery man is moste endued & gar­nished with vertue, so is he worthy of moste prayse. And there is nothinge that is good, but he that is therewith decorated, may honestlye reioyce and glory in himselfe for it. But is any of all these in pleasure? Doth it make a man either better or more praiseable? Is there any so shameles to extoll his owne lewednesse, or to attribute any honest praise to himselfe, for yelding & enthralling hymselfe to voluptuous­nes, and lasciuiouslye liuing after hys own inordinate Sensuality? Seing therefore that pleasure (in defence whereof very many do stiffely stand) is not to be accompted among good thinges, but the more that it is vsed, [Page] the more it doth alienate the minde from the state wherin it was before: Certes to liue well and happely is no­thing els, but to liue vprightlye and honestly.

❀The second Paradoxe, wherein is de­ciphered that in whomesoeuer vertue is, there lacketh nothing els to bring him to lead an happy life.

NEyther did I euer thinke Mar­cus Regulus to be miserable vn­happy or wretched, for his mag­nanimity & hauty courage was not tormented of the Carthaginians, ney­ther his grauity, neyther his faythfulnes, neither his constancy neyther a­nye other vertue incorporated in hys noble brest, nether finally his worthy mind, which being garded and forti­fyed with a garrison of so many ver­tues, and on euerye side enuironed & accompanied with such singular qua­lities could not be vanquished & con­quered, [Page] although his bodye was pu­nished and by a most terrible kind of tormente manquelled. As touching C. Marius, we sawe in him suche a care paterne of noble pacience that when he was aflote in his highest prosperi­tye he seemed to me to be one of the happiest and fortunatest men in the world, and when blind fortune tour­ned her wheele vp side downe deiec­ting him from his high estate and so­ueraignty vnto carefull aduersity, yet seemed he neuer to chaunge counte­naunce but to be as one of the noblest and stoutest hearted men that euer was, then whiche there can nothing happen vnto a mortal man more bles­sed or fortunate. Thou little knowest (thou folish and brainsick man) what power and efficacy vertue hath: thou dost vsurpe the bare name of vertue, but thou knowest not the excellency, force and validity of it. That man cā not be but most happy whose minde [Page] is well setled and accustomed to ver­tue, and whych putteth and reposeth all thinges in himselfe alone. But he that putteth all his hope, confidence, reason, and cogitacion in fickle for­tune, and altogether dependeth vpon vncertaine hazarde, can haue no cer­tainty of any thing, neither can he as­sure himselfe that he shall haue the fruition of his posterity not so muche as the space of one day. Terrifye & af­fray suche Asseheades, if thou canste catch any such in thy daunger, wyth thy threatening menaces eyther of death, or els banishmente: but for my part, what chance soeuer betideth me in so churlish and ingrate city, I will paciently suffer it, and am fully resol­ued not to refuse it, much lesse not to repugne & resist it. For to what ende and purpose haue I employed and bestowed all my trauayle, to what ef­fect are all my deedes, or for what cō ­sideration haue I exhausted my selfe [Page] with so many studies and careful af­fayres, if I haue not armed my self & learned therby to lead my life in such sort, that neyther the spightfull teme­rity and rashnes of variable fortune, nor the enuious hart burning and in iurious hatred of mine enemies shold be able once to damnify me or to dash me out of countenaunce? Is it death that thou doost threaten me withal, by whose meanes I shall departe out of this miserable worlde altogether from among men, or els is it banish­ment, wherby I shall be ridde out of the company of naughty packes and villaines? Death is terrible to those, whose life and conuersation hath ben so sinfull and wicked, that when they dye: all other things dye and take an end with them also: but not to them, whose prayse and renown can neuer dye nor be forgotten. As touching ba­nishment, it is terrible and dreadfull to them, which thinke themselues to [Page] be enclosed and hedged within a cer­tain limite and place of dwelling, not to thē which thinke the whole world to be nothing els, but as one city, for all men to dwell in. Thou art ouer­whelmed in miseries, thow arte plunged in calamities, thou arte envei­gled and ledde in a fooles Paradise, supposing thy selfe to be a man happy & in fortunes good grace: thine owne libidinous lustes do vexe and trouble thy vnquiet conscience, thy mynde is night and day horribly battered with remorse of thy naughty life, thou nei­ther art contented with the lot and state which thou art in presently, thinking it not to be enough, & also thou standest in continuall feare least that whiche thou haste, will not continue long with thee. The punctions of thy flagitious deedes is euer gnawing & pricking thy sinfull and gilty consci­ence, thou standest in fear of Sessiōs and iudgemēts for transgressing the [Page] lawes, which way soeuer thou doost glaunce thine eye, thy wrongfull dea­linges like hellishe furies doe occurre and resorte into thy remembraunce, which do so torment thee inwardlye that thou neuer canste take thy reste. Wherfore euen as a naughty, folish & dissolute person can not be happy: so a good, wise and valiant man can not be miserable. Neyther can his life be otherwise then good and prayseable, whose vertuous manners and honest conditions are godlye and comenda­ble: neither furthermore is hys life to be detested and eschued which deser­ueth prayse, which were vtterly to be auoyded and fled, if it were wretched and miserable. And therefore I con­clude that whatsoeuer is laudable, the same also oughte to seeme blessed, flourishing and expetible.

❀The third Paradoxe vvherin accordyng to the opinion of the Stoikes, he proueth all faultes to bee equall.

[Page]THe thinge (will some man saye) is small and of litle value: but y ^e offence is great. For offēces and faultes must bee waighed and consi­dered, not accordinge to the chaunce & happe of the deedes, but according to the vicious intente and naughtye disposition of the parties offendinge. One offence (I graūt) may be greater or lesse in valew, then an other is: but as touchinge the nature of the offen­ces and respecting them simply which way soeuer thou shiftest and turnest thy selfe, they are all one. A Pylote or chefe Mariner whiche negligentlye drowneth a shippe, whether the same be fraighted with Gold or w ^t chaffe, is asmuch to be reprehended & disalo­wed for the one as for the other. For although ther be some oddes and dif­ference in the worth and valewe of y ^t thinges, yet his ignoraunce and vn­skilfulnes is all one. If a manne to staunch his inordinate and filthy lust, [Page] do defloure a woman that is both a Strāger & also of pore estate & degre, the griefe of y ^t villaine doth not appertaine to so many, as if he had lasciui­ouslye constuprated a noble Damo­sel, descended of som honorable house and pedagrew. But the offence was of it selfe neuer a whitte the lesse. For sinne or offence is nothinge els but a transgressing and passinge of the ly­mittes & boundes of vertue. Whiche when thou hast once done, the faulte or trespasse is committed, and thou nedest not to aggrauate y ^e same with heaping on any more, for thou hast deserued blame by comitting euen one. And whatsoeuer is vnlawful to bee done, is in this one poinct contayned, and expressely proued, in saying that it is not lawfull: Which can neyther be made more or lesse. For if it be not lawfull, it is sinne, which is alwayes one and the same: and therfore the vi­ces that springe and proceede out of them, muste needes be equall. Also if [Page] vertues be equall one wyth an o­ther, vices also muste be equall. But it may most playnly and easelie be per­ceiued and vnderstanded that vertu­es are all equall one with an other, forasmuch as there can not bee anye man better then a good man, nor any more temperate, then hee that is temperate, neyther anye stowter and valianter then hee that is stoute and valiaunt, nor wyser then he that is wise, wilte thou call him a good man, that whereas he mighte gayne clearly and detaine to himselfe tenne pounds of gold being committed to his keepinge and custodie in secreate without any witnesse, yet faythfully and truly redeliuereth the same to y ^e owner therof, if he would not do semblablye in tenne thousande poundes? Or woulde you repute and take him to bee a temperate man, whiche can brydel his affections and refraine frō some one licencious lust, and lettethe go the Reynes of al disordered oute­rage [Page] in an other? Onely vertue is a­greable with all reason and perpetu­all constancie. Nothing can be added therevnto, to make it to bee more a vertue: nothing can be taken awaye from it, but the name of vertue shall strayght wayes, be taken away and ceasse. For if thinges that bee well done, be rightly and vertuously don, and nothing cā be righter then right, verily neither can anything be found that is better then good. It foloweth therfore, that vices are equal. For the naughtynesse of the mind are aptlye termed vyces. But syth vertues are equal, vertuous deedes also, (because they proceede and come of vertue) oughte to be equall Semblably syn­nes because they sprynge and aryse out of vyces, must nedes be equall. Yea Sir, (wil some say) you take and ground this opinyon vpon the Phy­losophers doctrine. I was afrayd, least you would haue sayd, I had be rowed and gathered it of Ribauo [Page] and verletts. Socrates his vse and ma­ner was to dispute after such a sorte. I am well apayde thereof: for aunci­ent and autenticke hystoryes doe re­corde and witnesse that hee was a profoundly learned and also a righte wyse man. But yet I demaund this question of you (seing we do quietlye reason the matter wyth gentle wor­des and not with sturdye buffettes) whether when wee dispute of good thynges, we ought rather to seeke y ^e mynd and opynion of rude and igno­raunt Tankerd bearers & drudging labourers, or els of the approued learned and famous Phylosophers? espe­cially sith ther is no sentence and opi­nion eyther truer or more availeable to mans lyfe then this. What power or force doth more terrefye men from committing any kind of sinful actes, then when they knowe that there is no difference in offences, and that they do offende asmuche and as hey­nously [Page] in laying violent handes vpō priuate persons, as they should if they did the same to Magistrates and thē that be set in high authorytie? And what house soeuer they do polute w ^t baudry and whoredome, that the dy­shonestie and shame of the lecherous fact is equall and al one. What? is there no difference (wyll some saye) whether a man kyll his owne father, or els some common Seruaunt? If you meane these twoe comparisons barely and symplye, not addyng the cause or the kyllers intente, it is hard to be iudged of what sort they be. For if it be a horrible offēce of it self & sim­ply for one to kyl his father, y ^t Sagunti­nes, who had leifer that their Paren­tes should dye being free and vnuan­quyshed, then to lyue in seruitude & slauerye, were Parricides. Therfore in some case the sonne may berefe his father of his lyfe wythoute offence, and manye times a poore drudge or [Page] slaue maye be brought to his deathe, without great wronge and iniurye, And therfore the dyfference is in the cause, and not in the nature of the deede. Which being not sought for of the party actyue, but vpon vrgent cō sideration & respect of the other party done, it is done more redely and pro­pēsiuely: but if the cause be a like and all one in both, the faultes also muste needes be equal. Notwithstandinge herein they do differ, that in killinge a Slaue. if it be done iniuriously, ther is but one single offence committed, but in killing and takinge awaye the life of a father, there are many fautes. for therein is an vnnaturall dealinge shewed to him that begat thee, that fostered and brought thee vp, that in structed and taught thee, that placed thee in good state to liue in the com­mon wealth, and furnished thee with houses and necessaries. He is notori­ous for his offences, which taketh a­way [Page] from his father, that which he himselfe receyued of him, and therfore deserueth a great deale more punish­mente. But in the race and course of our life we ought not to waigh and consider what punishment is mete & due for euery faulte, but to looke and perpend what is lawfull and permit­ted for euery man to do. To do that whiche behoueth not to be done we oughte to thinke to be an offence: but to do any thing which is prohibited & vnlawfull, we ought to iudge and ac­compte a detestable and cursed deede. Is this to be so precisely taken for e­uery light matter and small trespasse? Yea truelye, for we cannot imagine a meane of the thynges, but we maye bridle oure affections and keepe oure mindes in a modest measure. If a Stage player do neuer so little in his gesture misse & transgresse the notes of mesure or erre in pronouncing one sillable in a verse long which shoulde [Page] be shorte or contrarywise that shorte which should be long, he is hissed at, derided, and with clapping of handes driuen away: and wilt thou say, that thou shouldest erre and offende so­muche as in one syllable, in thy lyfe which ought to be more moderat thē any gesture & more inculpable then any verse? I cannot abide to heare a Poet make a fault in his verse thogh it be but in a trifeling matter, & shall I heare a citizen skanne vpon his fin­gers his faultes which in the societye of his life he hath committed? Whiche if they seme to be shorter, yet how can they seme to be lighter sithens euery offence and sinne commeth by the per­turbation of reason and order? For reason and order being once broken & perturbed, there can nothinge be ad­ded, wherebye it maye seeme that the offence maye anye whitte more bee encreased.

❀The fourth Paradoxe, vvherin is proued that all fooles and brainsickes persons be distraught and alienated from their right mindes: couertly meaning Clodius, and by him all others of like maners and conditions.

BVt I wyll by necessarye argu­ments proue thee not a foole as thou art often, not a wicked vil­layne as thou art alwayes, but a frā tike sotte and starke madde Ideot. Shall the mind of a wise man being garded and on euerye side fenced and hedged in wyth graue counsell, vali­aunce, pacient bearing and suffring al such chaunces as are incident to mā, contempt of fortune and finally with all the other vertues as it were with a Rampier or wal, be vanquished and ouerthrowē, which canot be so much as exiled and banished out of the ci­tie? For what call you a citye? is it an assembly and conuent of sauage and brutish liuers? Or is it a multitude of [Page] Rennagates, cutthrotes and thieues congregated into one place? Certes you will say no. Then Rome was not to be called a citye, when good lawes were disanulled, abrogated and stode in none effecte, when Iudgementes were layd aside and contemned, whē the auncyente customes of the Citie were ceassed and extinguisshed, when the Magistrates were wyth sweard and stronge hande deposed and dis­fraunchised, and the honorable name of Senate no more vsed in the weale publique. Was that flockyng route & hellishe rable of theeues and Ruffi­ans, and the swarme of Robbers and murtherers whych vnder thy cōduct were brought and set in the Forum, & the remnaunt of the conspiratoures whych (escaping punishment after y ^t the sedicious furyes and trayterous vprores of Catiline were repressed) turned and confourmed theymselues to thy vngracious villainye and mad­nesse [Page] any citie? Therfore I was not banished out of the Citie, which was then none, but I was reuoked and restored into the Citie, when there was a common wealthe a Consull, which during the time of thy vsurped rule and Consulshippe was none at all, and when the Senate bare hys wonted authoritie which while thou ruledst the roste and bare the swaye was contemned, and when the peo­ple myght francklye and freelye geue their voyces and consentes, and final: ly when the execution of iustice, lawe and equitie (which be the linkes and bonds of the Citie) were reuiued and had in remembraunce. But beholde howe litle I set by the bloudy wea­pons wherwith thou maintayneste thy murtherous and thieueshe lewd­nes. I euer made accompt that thou diddest meane greate iniurie to mee, but I neuer thoughte that it euer taught or came neere to mee. Vnlesse perad­venture [Page] whenne thou diddeste beate downe y ^e walles of my house, or whē thou diddest most wyckedlye set my Mansion on fier, thou thoughte that some of such things as are mine, wer spoyled ransacked and burned in the Citie. But I do recken nothing to be myne, neyther can anye man els call any thynge his owne, which may bee taken away or stollen or by any other meanes loste. If thou haddest taken awaye from mee my constantnes of mynd that I haue vsed a long time, my cares, my laborious & watchfull paynes, and my sage counsaile, wherby the State of this publique weale hath bene honourably conserued and maintayned, or if thou haddest abolis­shed and blotted oute the immortall fame that shal redound to me for these worthy benefits eternally, or (which is more) if thou haddest bereft mee of that mind, out of which all these coū ­sayles proceded, then woulde I con­fess [Page] that I hadde receiurd a wronge at thine handes. But forasmuche as thou neyther dyddeste neyther yet couldeste do this, thy iniurious dea­lynge towarde mee, hath made this my retourne ioyefull and gloryous, and not my departure wretched and miserable.

Therefore I was euer a Citizen, and then especiallye, when the Se­nate didde writte to foraine Coun­treyes and prouincies for my saue­garde, preseruacion and gentle inter­taynmente, as for one that was both a noble and vertuouse Citizen. But thou (althoughe thou seeme nowe to bee in thy ruffe and to rule al thin­ges at thy pleasure) arte no Citizen, vnlesse peraduenture it bee possible for one and the same personne bothe to be a deadlye enemye and a freind­lye Cytyzen.

Doeste thou make anye diffirence [Page] betwene a Cytizen and an Enemye by nature and distaunce of place, and not by inwarde wyll, and playne deedes of the myndes? Thou haste commytted Murther in the Forum, thou haste intruded into the Tem­ples and foreciblye kepte the possessi­ons of them by meanes of thy armed Cutthrotes. Thou haste fiered the houses of pryuate menne, and holye Churches consecrated to the God­des. Whye is Spartacus proclaymed a Rebell and Traytoure, if thou bee a Cytizen? Canste thou bee a Citezen, sythence throughe the lewednes the Cytye was, once no Cytye? And doeste thou call mee (by thyne owne name) a banyshed man, sythe there is no good manne but hee thoughte that at my departure the Common wealth was banyshed and departed also.

O thou foolyshe and srantike dolte [Page] wilt thou neuer be reclaimed to goodnes? wylt thou neuer loke about the? wylt thou neuer consider what thou doest and speakest? Doest thou not know that Exile is the punishmente of wycked and scelerous dealynge? & that this my iournaie was taken in hand for the most politicke and noble actes before by mee atchieued? All mischeuous and naughty persons (of whom thou doest professe thy selfe to be Captaine and Ringleader) whom the Lawes do apoinct to be ba [...]ished men, are vagarauntes & banished me in deede, althoughe they neuer stirre their foote oute of their natiue coun­traye. And seynge by all order of the Lawes thou art denounced an out­lawed and banyshed personne, wilte thou not be a banyshed man? Shall he be called an Enemye that beareth weapon aboute hym before the Se­nate, and not thou, whose falchion was taken euen in y ^e Senate? Shal [Page] he that sleaeth a man be punished and thou escape, which haste murthered a great meignie? Shal he that setteth fyre on the Cytie be adiudged an ene­mie, and thou winked at which with thyne one hande haste burned Cloy­sters and Churches dedicated to the Nymphes. What is to be laid to him which forcibly kepeth the Temples of the Goddes? But thou haste pitched thy Tentes, and marshalled thy dis­sordered Host in the Forum. But what meane I to recoumpte and declare the common lawes, whyche are al by the so violated and transgressed, that thou arte thereby made a bannished man? Thy very familier friend Cor­nificius made a priuate & special lawe for thee, that if thou dyddest presume to come into y ^e Temple of Bona Dea, thou shouldest be sent into exile. But thou arte accustomed to make thy vaunte, that thou hast done it. Ther­fore seing thou arte an offendoure of [Page] so many lawes, and by the order and tenoure of them arte awarded to ex­ile, how canst thou choose but trem­ble and feare this odious name of a bannished man? But I am here in Rome (thou wylt saye) and therefore how cast thou proue me to be a bani­shed man? I say thou art ther as thou hast beene in a Hauen, wherein thou hast layne for a tyme in Harborough, for thy safegard, and yet not obedient to the Lawes of the Countrey. Therfore euery man is not inheritable to y ^e customes & lawes of the place wher he is resiaunt, vnlesse hee be subiecte and obedient to y ^e lawes whych ther be vsed.

❀ The fift Paradoxe, vvherein he inuai­gheth agaynst the insolencye and voluptu­ous lyuinge of Marcus Antonius, and proueth all vvise men to be free, and all fooles to be Slaues and bondemen.

[Page]DEserueth this worthy captayne to bee praysed, or to bee named and thoughte worthye to haue such an honourable name? Howe? or what honest freeman can he be a ru­ler ouer, which cannot rule his owne affections? Let him firste brydle his sensuall lustes, let him renounce and abandon pleasures, let him qualefie his furious fumishe passion of beast­ly raginge anger, let him detest coue­tousnes, lette him vtterlye expell and driue out of his mind all corrupt and naughty vyces: and then let him be­gynne to exercise his rule and autho­rity ouer others, whē he himself hath ceassed to be enthralled as a bōd slaue to two most vyle masters, y ^t is to wit vglie shame & lose dishonesty, for so long as he is the bond slaue of those two, he shal not only be accōpted no Emperor, but rather not so much as a fre mā. And this is most excellētly v­sed of the most learned philosophers [Page] whose authoritye I woulde not vse & alledge, if my case so lay that I shold make this Oraciō before an audience of blunte and ignoraunt personnes. But seing that I do speake vnto thē that are most wyse and dyscrete, vn­to whose hearinge these thinges are not straung, why should I dissimule and faigne that I haue lost al the pai­nes and laboure whyche I haue be­stowed in these studies? Therefore right learned men do say, that no mā is free, but onelye a wyse man. For what is libertie? Leaue and power to liue as a man lust. And who liueth as he lust, but he whiche embraceth & foloweth honestye, and delighteth in the action of vertue, who dothe not liue rashlye and dissolutelye, but cho­seth & prescribeth to himselfe a trade of lyuinge aduisedly and forseeth the ende thereof, who is obedient to the Lawes, not for feare, but because hee thinketh it to be a thing expedient, & [Page] holesome: who doth neither say, doe nor thynke any thyng but volūtarily & freely, from whom al his counsailes and affayres that he taketh in hande do procede, and to the same are refer­red: neyther is any thyng of so great force wyth hym, as his owne wyll & iudgement: vnto whom fortune her­selfe yeldeth and geeueth place, and hath no power or iurisdiction ouer him, which is reported to haue a mer­vaylous great power and to beare a great sway in all thinges wherin the sentence of the wyse Poete is veri­fyed whych sayth thus: Euerye man is fashioned after his ovvne manners: Therfore only a wyse man hath thys preminence & good chaunce, that hee doth nothinge agaynste hys wil, no­thing grudgingly, nothyng by com­pulsion. Which thinge to be true, al­thoughe we must be faine to discusse and declare it in manye wordes, yet this in few wordes muste we of ne­cessitie [Page] confesse, that no man is free but hee whiche is thus disposed and affected: and therfore all naughty persons are slaues and bondmen. Ney­ther is this so straunge inopinable & merueilous in deede, as is it in wor­des. For the Philosophers doe not terme and call them such Slaues as serue for drudgerye and vyle seruyce beinge bounde to their Maisters by Indentures and Couenauntes obli­gatorye or by some order of Ciuyle Lawe: but if the vile obedience of an effeminate and abiect minde, caryed away with euery vaine puffe of foo­lishe affection, and lackinge any sure staye or iudgemente of himselfe, by a bondage, whoe will denye all lighte felowes, couetous persons, and final­lye all naughtye folkes to bee slaues and bondmen? Shal I thinke him to be a fre man, which is vnder the rule of a woman, submittinge himselfe to her becke and pleasure, liuinge as a [Page] suppliaunte vassell vnder her lawes, ready at an ynche when she either cō ­maundeth or countrecommaundeth? If she commaunde any seruyce to be done, he dare none otherwyse do, but goe aboute it, if she aske and require any thyng, he dare not to denie it her, if she cal he must come, if she cast him out of the dores, there is no remedye but to packe and trudge away, if shee storme and threaten he must tremble and quake for awe and feare. Veri­ly I iudge the mā that is in this case not only a Slaue and bondman, but a most wicked peazaunt and drudge, yea although he were descended of an honourable stocke and lignage. And as in a greate householde of fooles, some of the seruauntes thynke them­selues in their owne conceypte bray­uer and nycer thenne theyr other fel­lowes, by aprerogatiue of seruyce as being Porters & vsshers of the Hall, [Page] wheras (notwithstandinge) they bee but slaues and seruauntes, doltishe & foole shaken as well as thou arte: so lykewyse are they more fooles and Sottes, which set al their delight in Pictures, Tables, Plate curiouslye engrauen, Corinthian works, & sump­tuous buildinges. But we are (will they saye) the heades of the Citie, and therfore how are we Slaues. Truly you are in no better case, neyther are you to be preferred before your owne seruauntes. But as in a great fami­ly, they which handle and goe aboute vyle offices of drudgerie, as scouring, greasing, wiping, brusshing, sweping, strawinge Rushes and floures, haue not the honestest place of seruice, but rather the vilest function: so in a City those which haue enthralled and ad­dicted themselues to the desyres and lustes of these thinges, haue almoste the lowest and basest rowme of al in the same Citie. But thou wilt saye againe: [Page] I haue valiauntly behaued my selfe in battaile and exployed worthy aduentures in Martial affayres, and I haue had the gouernaunce & chiefe rule ouer greate Empieres and pro­uinces. Then if thou seeke thereby to be praysed, let thy mynd be garnished with suche vertues and qualities as be praise worthye. But thou arte be­witched with some excellent table of the handie worke of y ^e famous painc­ter Echion, or els with some picture of Policletus. I omit to speake whence thou haste gotten them, or what pla­ces thou haste spoyled and robbed to come by theim. But when I see and behold the so rauished with desire to gaze and tote vpon them stil, to mer­uayle and muse at them, and to make exclamacions for wonder of theym, truly I must needes iudge thee to be the slaue and bondman of all dotage and foolishnes. But are not these Ta­bles prety and trymme? Let them be [Page] so, for we are not so blunt and groose of vnderstanding, but we cā dyscerne betwene a good piece of worke and a badde. But I praye thee, repute and thinke theim faire and beautifull in such sort, y ^t they be not made as gye­ues and fetters to shakle and binde men. But be taken as the toyes and pastymes of Children. For what doe you thinke if L. Mummius should haue seene any of these men greatlye ena­moured and very desirouslye deligh­ted to handle the fyne pottes and v­rynalles of Corinthian worke, wheras hee himselfe cared not for the whole Citie of Corinthe, whether would hee thynke hym to bee an excellente Citi­zen or els a dyligente seruaunte and carefull ouerseer of vesselles? Lette Marcus Curius bee called to remem­braunce, let the worthye fame of his noblenes be reuiued, or some of those honourable personages, which lyued [Page] well contented in their simple fermes and Countray houses: hauing therin nothing gorgeously decked, glittering and beautiful but themselues. And if he should se any man that hath borne high office in the common wealth by the election and fauour of the people to catche Barbilles and Mullettes out of a fishponde, or nycelye handle them or to reioyce in hymselues be­cause he hath a bondāce of Lāprayes woulde not he iudge this man to be such a slaue that in his householde, he woule not thinke him worthy to in­termeddle with any greater charge? Doothe anye man doubte but that they are in moste beastlye state of seruitude, which for couetousnesse of monye refuse no manner of slauerye no drudgerye no bondage? What vnreasonable bondage are the well contented to suffer, whiche doe gape for the goodes of an other manne and hope to enioye his enheritaunce [Page] after his decease? when doth the old rich cobbe whych hath no issue becke or nodde, but they be prest and ready at his elbow to do his wil and plea­sure? They flatter and faune vppon hym, they know the right bent of his bowe, they speake nothynge but that whyche they know will please hym, what he willeth to be done, they doe it: they hold him vp with yea and nay, when hee is a litle sicke or discrased they sitte by hym. What poincte of a free mā is in these? Yea rather what poinct of a seruile and drousie drudge is not herein? Now, the ambicion & couetous desire of honoure, principa­litie and prouincies (whiche seemeth to haue a greate shewe of Liberali­tie, what a hard and rigorous Mai­stresse is it, howe imperious, howe stately and vehement it it? This was it, that caused the worshipful persons of the Citie and those whiche were counted the best and most substanti­tiall [Page] men in Rome, to become suters, to crowch and to kneele to the wicked & ambitious Cethegus, to flatter and serue him, to send him gyftes, to come to his house in the night, to desire him to be good to theim, and finallye sup­pliauntly to prostrate themselues be­fore hym and besech his fauour. What cal you seruitude & thraldome, if this may be thought to bee libertie and freedome? What shall we saye? whenne the rule and dominacion of affections is ceassed, there entreth in to their hartes an other heauie mai­ster and cruell Landlorde, whiche is feare and remorse of conscience for y ^e crymes before committed. What a miserable and hard seruitude is this? They must obaye and folow the fan­cies of prating youngelinges. Al they that seeme to haue anye shadowe of knowledge and feared as thoughe they were Lords. As for the Iudge, in what subiection hath he his Clien­tes? [Page] how do they which know them­selues gyltie of any offence feare and dread him. Is not al kind of feare, bō ­dage and slauerie? Therfore to what purpose is the Oracion of the moste eloquent Crassus, wherin he bestowed more eloquence then witte? Diliuer and rid vs out of seruitude. What seruitude is this to such an excellent & noble mā? For all feare of a faint, discouraged & abiect minde is seruitude. Let vs not be in bondage to any man. Desireth he to be restored to lybertie? Noe. For what doth he adde afterward? To none but onely to you all, vnto whom we maye and oughte to owe oure alegiaunce and do ho­mage. He would but chaunge his landlord, he desyreth not to bee free. But wee, if we be endewed with a lostye & valiaunt mind, garnished & fraight with vertues, neyther ought neyther may be in seruile subiection. But say thou O Crassus, y ^t thou canst, for whye thou canst do it, and bee as good as [Page] thy word: but say not that thou oughtest so to do, because no man oweth any thing but that which were a dishonesty not to paye. But of this hither­to. Let him take the view and suruay of hymselfe and well examine his owne conscience, howe hee can be an Emperoure, syth reasonne and truth do playnly argue and proue that hee is not so much as a free man,

❀The syxt and laste paradoxe, vvherin he proueth that noone are ryche, but onelye vvyse and vertuous men, priuaylye nip­pynge Marcus Crassus vvhoe sayde that none vvas to be named rich, vnlesse vvyth his reuenues he vvere able to furnishe and mayntaine an armye.

[Page]VVhat an insolent bragging and arrogante ostentacion is this y ^t thou makest about the telling of thy moneye and ryches? Art thou a­lone ryche? Oh immortall Goddes, may not I reioyce in my selfe that I haue heard and learned that know­ledge, wherby I can shew and proue thee not to be as thy outward pryde and painted glorye pretendeth? Arte thou alone rich? what wilt thou say, if I can proue the not to be rich at al? Yea what wylt thou say, if I proue thee to bee poore and beggerlye? for what is hee, whom wee call ryche, or howe do we vnderstand this worde riche, to what maner of man may it best agre? I do thinke that is beste a­greeth, and may fitliest be applyed to him, who possesseth so much: that hee thinketh himselfe sufficiently stored & to haue ynough wherwithal to liue vertuously and honestlye, being con­tented with his present lot & estate, [Page] seekyng and prowling after nothing, coueting and wisshing nothing more then he hath. For it is thy mynd that muste examine a iudge it selfe whe­ther it be riche or no, and not the ru­moure and talke of people, neyther thy richesse and possessions. He which thinketh him selfe to lacke nothinge, and careth not for heaping & hordyng vp of more, but is satysfyed and well contēted wyth his wealth (I graūt) he is riche. But if for filthye lucre and insaciable greedinesse of money, thou thinke no maner of gaine to be disho­neste and reprochfull, and carest nor which waye and howe thou gettest thy goodes, so that thou maist fyl thy bagges, (wheras no gaine at all can be honeste and commendable in one of that order wherof thou art a member) if thou daily defraude and vnder­myne thy neyghboures deceyue and circumuent them, exact and demaund vnreasonable taskes and customes [Page] at their handes, entangle and lappe them in preiudicial bargaynes and couenauntes, polle and pill them, spoile and vndoe them, steale from thy fe­lowes, robbe the common Treasurie, gape and loke euery houre when thy frends wil dye that they in their last Testamentes myghte institute and ordayne the their Heire, or els perad­uenture doest not so well as to tarie and stand to their curtesies, but false­fyest and forgettes some subtyle con­vaighaunce in wryting, by puttinge thy name in the steede and place of hym that is the true and right heire: whether be these the tokens and prā ­kes of a wealthye ryche man whych aboundeth, or of a needye poore persō that lacketh? It is the mynd of man that is wont to be called rich, and not his Coffers. Although thy Chestes & Coffers be stuffed full of moneye and worldly pelfe, yet so long as I see the emptie & voyde of vertue (whiche is [Page] true treasure) I wil neuer thinke thee to be rich. For men do esteme and rec­ken the measure of riches to consiste in a sufficiency. Hath a man a daugh­ter? Then hath he neede to haue mo­naye for her dower. Hath he two? he hath neede of more monaye. Hath hee moe thē two? He hath neede of grea­ter store then afore. If he haue fiftye daughters (as the Poets do say that King Danaus had) he must prouide so many dowers to geue w ^t them in mariage, which will aske a great masse of monaye. For accordinglye as eue­rye one hathe neede, the measure of riches muste (as I sayde before) ther­to bee accommodated. Therefore that man whiche hathe not manye daughters, but nathelesse hath in­numerable affectyons and an infi­nite sorte of bestial cupidities (which are able in a shorte space to consume greate wealthe and foysonne of ri­chesse) howe shall I call hym ryche, [Page] sithence he feleth and perceaueth him selfe to lacke? Many haue heard thee saye, that none was rych, vnlesse hee were able with his rentes and reue­nues to maintayne and furnyshe a whole Host of Men: which thing the Romaine nacion hath of longe time bene skarcelye able with all their tri­butes and rentes to doe. Therfore by thine owne reason and argumente, thou shalte neuer be ryche, vntill thy possessions be so augmented and en­creased, that therwith thou mayst be able with Municions, [...]egion [...]ay­ [...] victualles, & habilimentes of warre to maintaine sixe Legions of souldiours besyde a great number of horsemen and foote­menne whych come to succoure and ayde. [...] Now thou canst not chose, but confesse thy selfe not to bee ryche, see­inge that thou lackest so much that thou canst not, accomplishe and ful­fyl thy wysshed desyre. Therfore thou dyddeste neuer dissemble and hyde [Page] this thy pouertie or rather needinesse and beggerye. For as we wel vnder­stand and know that those which by honest meanes do seeke to get riches by their entrecourse and traffique of Merchandize, helping & hauing helpe agayne one of an other and by other lyke publique matters, haue neede of the thynges, whiche they seeke for: so he that seeth at thy house great com­panyes of accusers, complaynaunts & Iudges al at once, he that marketh the defendauntes and giltye persons being ful of money, going about and practysing with brybes and rewards (whyche they learned of thee) to pre­uent and adnichlate the due processe of Law, Iustice and iudgement, hee that noteth thy Legierdemayne and craftye bargaynes that thou makest wyth thy Clients, and what reward thou shalte haue for thy patrocinie & counsaile in their causes, & for what summes of money thou doest indent [Page] with those that bee Competitours or Suters for any office and promocion in the generall Assemblies, hee that calleth to memorye how thou lettest out thy slaues and seruaunts for hire to shaue and exact vnmeasurable gai­nes by vsurie of the prouinces, he that marketh howe thou threatneste thy poore fermers and Tenauntes oute of their houses and fermes, hee that perpendeth the to priuy slaughters & Robberies in the fieldes, hee that cal­leth to mynd howe thou vsest to be a Copertener w ^t pore slaues, Liberties & clyntes for gaine, he that beholdeth the houses and possessions left voyde and vnhabitied by reasonne that the right owners were expulsed, the pro­scriptions, and attendoure of wealthy personages, the ransackinge of incor­porate Cities & y ^t mercilesse murthers of the inhabitauntes, the lamentable hauocke of Sylla his tyme of vsurped principality, the forged Charters and [Page] Testamentes, so many personnes cast away and manquelled, the portsale of al things, the excessiue gaine that thou made by mustering & leuinge of soul­diours, the degrees of the Senate euer turning to thy profitte, the selling not onely of thine owne voyce but of other mens also, the Forum, thy house, thy goodworde to further any suter, thy sylence not to speake againste thy clyent, who is he but wil thinke that this man muste confesse that he hath neede of those thinges whiche he see­keth? And whosoeuer hath neede of that thing which he toyleth to get & gayne, who can euer trulye call him a rych man? For the fructe of richesse is in plentie, whyche plentie the societie of thinges and abundance of wealth bringeth: the whyche forasmuche as thou shalte neuer attaine vnto, thou shalt neuer be rich. And because thou doest contempne my substaunce and wealthe, and wyll too, (for it is after [Page] the vulgare peoples opiniō, meane & indifferente, in thy opinion in maner nothing, in mine owne iudgemente, cōpetent and measurable) I wil saye nothing of my self, but speake of thee. If we shal waigh & consyder y ^e thing throughlye as it is, whether shal we more esteme the money whych Kyng Pyrrhus sent to Fabritius, or els the cōti­nencye of Fabritius whych would not receyue the same being frelye offered vnto hym? Whether shall wee more waighe the greate masse & summe of Gold of the Samnites or els the an­swere of M. Curius to the messengers that brought the same to hym? the in­heritaunce of L. Paulus or els the libe­ralitie of Africanus who gaue his part and porcion of liuelyhode to his bro­ther Quintus Maximus? Verilye these notable examples being the chiefe & principall members of most excelent vertues are more to be estemed, then those that are the mēbers of wealthe [Page] and mony. What man therfore (seing y ^t he is alwayes to be reckened moste rich whiche possesseth most store of y ^t whych is beste and moste to be este­med) doubteth but that the true ry­chesse do consiste onely in vertue? for no possession, no heapes and Sūmes of gold and syluer are to be preferred or so much to be esteemed as vertue. Oh immortall Goddes: Men do not perceiue and vnderstand what a gret reuenue and rent, moderate expences and parsimonie is. But nowe I wyl leaue to speake of this beggerly lick-penye that prowleth all for gayne, & speake a litle of prodigal spenders and vnmeasurable wasters. Ther is som one that may dispend yerely in lands syxe hundreth Sestertia, wheras I can skantly dispend one hundreth, the ro­fes and sielings of his Mansions and Countrayhouses are gylte, Euery Sestertia is in v [...]lue 25. french [...] crown and the floores are paued with Marble: to hym therefore takinge this waye, & [Page] styll desyring Pictures, Tables, fur­niture & implementes of householde and costly apparaile, al that Summe of monay will not onely be to litle to discharge the same, but also wil scāt­ly suffice to pay the annual vsurie for the loane therof.

I do so brydle my affections vnder the Reynes of moderate expences y ^t out of my small yerely liuing, some­what remayneth at the yeres end. Whether is rich therfore? He that lac­keth, or els he that hath more then he spendeth? He that is needie or he that hath plenty? he whose possessions the greater they be, the more is requyred to the maintainaunce of his port and state, or els he that paiseth his expen­ces and charges according to the rate of his habilitie. But what meane I to speake of my selfe, who peraduen­ture being a litle seduced by reason of the iniquity & corruption of tymes & maners, am not cleare from the infection [Page] of this erroure? Marcus Manilius who lyued of late yeares euen in our fathers daies and remembraunce (be­cause I wyll not alwayes speake of such precyse felowes as the Curij and the Lucinij were) was a verye poore man, for he dwelte in a small Cotage in the streat called Carinde, and had a plotte of ground in Licopum. Are we therfore richer though we haue grea­ter possessions? would god we were. But the measure of money and riches is not in the estimacion and value of the wealth, but in the orderly kind of lyuing and y ^t vertues vse and occupa­tion therof. It is a great fee and pen­cion, not to be greedye and couetous of monaye, not to bee a buyer and seller or a common Chapman. But to bee contented with a mans lotte and vocacion, and to liue, quietly and well in his callynge, be the greatest & sureste richesse in the worlde. For if these craftye Pricesetters of thinges [Page] do set a highe price vppon their Mea­dowes and certaine roomes, because such kynd of possessions can not lightly take any harme by such accidentall meanes as other wares might: how mutch more is vertue to be estemed, which can neither be forciblye taken nor priuilie stollen away from a man, which also can neither be lost by ship­wracke nor yet by casualitye of fyre, and is neuer chaunged by any altera­cion of tempests or times? Wherwith whosoeuer be endued, are onely rich. For they onely do possesse the things that are both fructuous, perpetuall & permanent, and they alone (which is the infallible propertie of rychesse) are contented with their substaunce and state wherunto they be called. They thinke that which they presētly enioy to be sufficient, they couet nothinge, they lacke nothing, they feele not thē ­selues nedy of any thing, they craue & require nothing. But wicked persōs [Page] and couetous pinchepenyes, because their possessions are vncertayne and casuall, and euer are desirous to ga­ther and scrape more, in somuch that there was neuer yet anye of theym found, that thought himselfe conten­ted and pleased with his presente store, are not onely to be rec­kened wealthy and rych, but rather verye poore and beg­garly.