THE FABLES
or BIDPAI
BIBHOTHEdUE DE CARA.BAS
Five hundred and fifty copies of this Edition have been
printed, five hundred of which are for sale.
Cables of 16t&pai.
SEEN BY
PRESERVATION
SERVICES
BALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO.
EDINBURGH AND LONDON
a
earliest (Engltsfj toton of tfje
3fable0 of Bifcpai,
"The Moral! Philosophic of Dom"
by Sir Thomas North, whilom
of Peterhouse, Cambridge
Now again edited and induced
by Joseph Jacobs, late of
St. John's College,
Cambridge.
LONDON. M.D.CCCLXXXVIIL PUBLISHED BY DAVID
NUTT, IN THE STRAND.
j
MY DEAR WIFE.
PREFACE.
OF late years nearly all the Western versions of
the " Fables of Bidpai " have been printed, either
again or for the first time. The Greek, the He
brew, the Old Spanish, the German, the Latin,
the Croatian, and the Old Slavonic have been
given afresh to the world, and it seemed fitting
that the earliest English version, made by Sir
Thomas North of Plutarch fame, should also be
made to see the light of day again. On my
suggesting this to Mr. Nutt, he readily consented
to add a reprint of the book to his " Bibliotheque
de Carabas," and the present volume is the result.
The need of a reprint of North's version became,
evident during the search for a copy of the ori
ginal. Mr. Quaritch has been on the look-out
for me for the last five years in vain. Of the
first edition the British Museum, Cambridge
viii PREFACE.
University, Trinity College, Cambridge, and the
Lambeth Libraries do not possess a copy, nor are
the noble collections of the Duke of Devonshire,
Mr. Huth, or the late Mr. Dyce richer in this
respect than the public libraries. The only com
plete copy of the first edition that I have been
able to trace is in the Bodleian, and the present
volume has been printed from a transcript of
this, though I have collated with an imperfect
copy possessed by Dr. Williams' Library. There
was a second edition in 1601, but this is even
rarer, only the British Museum copy being known
to me.
The first edition received the license of the
Stationers' Company sometime towards the end
of 1569 or the beginning of 1570, as we learn
from the entry in their books (Arber Transcript
i. fol. 184), " Eecevyd of henry Denham for his
lycense for pryntinge of a boke intituled phelo-
phye (sic) of the Auincyant fFaythers xijd." It
is a small quarto of 116 leaves, divided into four
parts, of which the last two have separate title-
pages, as in the Italian original : the last is dated
1570. We have exactly reproduced its typogra
phical peculiarities for the first forty pages, after
which the whole book was in gothic, for which
PREFACE. ix
we have substituted ordinary type, as less trying
to the eyes. The book is illustrated with wood
cuts imitated from the Italian. We have repro
duced nine of the quaintest and most charac
teristic.
I believe I have opened a new chapter in the
already voluminous Bidpai literature by show
ing that the illustrations of the Fables were
regarded as an integral part of the text,
and were "translated," so to speak, along with
it. We have therefore given an example of
these traditional illustrations from the editio
princeps of the Latin version of John of Capua
(p. Ixiii.). From the other end of the world we
give as a frontispiece to the volume one of the
Indian designs which adorn the fine Persian MS.
of the Fables preserved at the British Museum
(Add. MS., 18,579). This was executed in
1610 for Tana Sahib, the last Kajah of Golconda
(See Rieu, Cat. Pers. MSS. p. 756). The plate
represents the first meeting of Dimna and Sen-
esba, the two chief actors in the main story, and
may be contrasted with the representation of the
same personages given in the English text on
p. 100.
It remains to perform the pleasant task of
x PREFACE.
thanking those to whom this volume owes its
external attractions or internal correctness. My
best thanks are due to Mr. E. Burne-Jones for the
beautiful design which forms the frontispiece to
the book itself, and embodies the ideal of Oriental
Tradition. The Duke of Devonshire was good
enough to send his copy of the Italian original
to the British Museum for comparison, and the
Trustees of Dr. Williams' Library gave me faci
lities for collating with their precious copy of
the first edition.
INTRODUCTION.
" Pilpay, sage indien. Sa livre a 6te traduit dans toutes
les langues. Les gens du pays le croient fort ancien
et originel a I'fyard d'jfrsope si ce n'est Esope lui-
me'me."
LA FONTAINE, Avertissement au second
recuiel, 1678.
THE work I am to introduce to the reader is the
earliest English representative of a cycle of stories
which has passed into every civilised tongue, and
into many not civilised. The bare description
of the " Morall Philosophic of Doni " will suffice
to indicate how wide a traveller it had been
before it reached these shores. It is the English
version of an Italian adaptation of a Spanish
translation of a Latin version of a Hebrew trans
lation of an Arabic adaptation of the Pehlevi
version of the Indian original. And this enume
ration only indicates one of many paths which
these fables took to reach Europe. To trace these
paths is a fascinating pursuit for the bibliographer
xii INTRODUCTION.
and for him alone. Luckily, bibliographical
work, which is so necessary but so dry, needs
only to be done once if done well, and the work
in this case has been done admirably by the late
Mr. Keith-Falconer in the introduction to his
translation of the later Syriac version of " Bid-
pai's Fables" (Cambridge, Pitt Press, 1885).*
I have endeavoured to summarise the seventy
erudite pages which he has taken to enumerate
the various translations and editions in the accom
panying genealogical table. From this I calcu
late that the tales have been translated into
thirty-eight languages, in 112 different versions,
which have passed into about 180 editions.
We must not, however, dismiss the earlier
stages of the history of the Fables so summarily.
In these days, research after paternity in such
matters is encouraged rather than forbidden in
the code of scholarship. In the present instance,
* A less complete enumeration is given in Table II.,
attached to Mr. T. Rhys Davids' translation of the
Jataka Tales (Triibner, 1880). Table I. deals with the
Indian variants with greater fulness than in Mr. Keith -
Falconer's work. I have included some of these, as well
as a few unconsidered trifles that had escaped the notice
of these two scholars in Schultens, Graesse, the British
Museum Catalogue, and Landau, Quellen des Decamerone.
THE INDIAN ORIGINAL. xiii
the search is rendered peculiarly difficult, and
therefore fascinating, by the fact that the Indian
original has disappeared, and its features can only
be guessed at by the family likeness shown in its
earliest descendants. By combining the common
features of the nearest of kin to the Sanskrit
original the Old Syriac, the Arabic and the
Tibetan versions Professor Benfey has pro
duced a "composite portrait" of the original
(Introduction to Kalilag, pp. vi.-x.) From this
it appears that the source of this multifarious
literature was a " Mirror for Princes," in thir
teen books of tales and fables connected together
by an ingenious framework, which brought the
stories to bear upon the problems of conduct.
An Indian sage named variously in the versions
Vishnucarman, Bidpai, Pilpay, or Sendebar,
tells them to his king to incite him to virtue.
It is in this device of a framework to connect
the stories that the literary significance of the
book consists, and it is owing to this that it has
managed to keep the component tales together
through so many vicissitudes.
Many of the tales occur in another connection,
and enclosed in another "frame," in the Jataka
Tales, or Buddhist Birth Stories, which may detain
xiv INTRODUCTION.
us a moment, as they serve to establish the date
of the original Bidpai, and throw some light on
the framework device. These Jatakas are tales
supposed to have been told by the Buddha, and to
be in each case experiences undergone by him
or witnessed by him during one or other of his
former manifestations on earth. This is obviously
a very convenient form by which to connect a
number of stories even about birds, beasts, and
fishes, since the Bodisat (or Buddha) is thought
to have appeared in animal shape. Thus the
eleventh, or LaJckhana Jatdka (Rhys-Davids, p.
194), begins : "At that time the Bodisat came
to life as a deer," and it has been calculated that,
of the 550 Birth Stories, 108 relate to the
appearances of the Buddha as a monkey, deer,
lion, wild duck, snipe, elephant, cock, eagle, horse,
bull, serpent, iguana, rat, jackal, &c. (I.e. Table
YIL p. ci.) It is therefore probable that most of
these Fables were first brought into connection
with one another as Birth Stories of the Buddha,
and some of them may actually have been com
posed by him, as it was clearly his custom to
inculcate moral truths by some such apologues.
Benfey had already seen the Buddhistic tone of
the whole collection (Pant, i p. xi), and Mr.
THE JATAKAS. xv
Khys-Davids has clinched the matter in his inter
esting translation of a number of the Jatakas
(Buddhist Birth Stories, vol. i., Triibner, 1880).
These include two which have passed into
North's version, and are reprinted at the end
of the present Introduction.
The latest date at which the stories were thus
connected is fixed by the curious fact that some
of them have been sculptured round the sacred
Buddhist shrines of Sanchi, Amaravati,* and
Bharhut, in the last case with the titles of the
Jatakas inscribed above them (Khys-Davids,
p. lix., and Table VIII) These have been
dated by Indian archaeologists as before 200
B.C., and Mr. Khys-Davids produces evidence
which would place the stories as early as 400
B.C. Between 400 B.C. and 200 B.C., many of
our tales were put together in a frame formed of
the life and experience of the Buddha.
We have them now in quite a different order
and connection, and the question arises, When
were they taken out of the one frame and placed
in the present one 1 This could only have been
when the influence of Buddhism was declining
in India, and I am therefore inclined to date
* Now on the grand staircase of the British Museum.
xvi INTRODUCTION.
them in their present connection about 200-400
A.D., and to attribute them to the new Brah-
manism of that period, possibly as rivals to
the Jatakas. Of their later history in Buddhist
countries little is known definitely. They passed
into Thibet and China, and in the Indian penin
sula parts of the original work appear in the
Pantschatantra or Pentateuch, which contains
five of the original thirteen books, in the Hito-
padesa, which includes four of these, in the
Mahabharata, which contains another three books,
and the Katha-sarit-sagara, (Ocean of Stories),
of Somadeva, which has many of the stories
in a detached form ; these are late, and often
give us less information about the original than
the more faithful Western versions.
The moment we start on the "Western travels of
the Fables we are on firmer ground. They were
translated into Pehlevi (or Old Persian) by Bar-
zoye, by the orders of Khosru Nushirvan (fl.
550 A.D.), under circumstances which are related
to us in the book itself (pp. 34-40). Firdausi
thought the event of such importance that he
devoted a section to it in his Shahnameh, or
poetical chronicle of Persia (Mohl's translation,
vi., 356-65). This Pehlevi version was almost
TRANSMISSION TO THE WEST, xvii
immediately translated into Syriac by a Priest
named Bud or Bod, about 570 A.D. The history
of the rediscovery of this Old Syriac version
forms one of the romances of modern scholar
ship, which must, however, here remain untold.
(See Benfey's letter, translated in Professor M.
Miiller's Selected Essays, i., pp. 549-55.)
When Islam turned to science and literature,
one of the earliest works translated into Arabic
was the Pehlevi translation of our Fables by
'Abdullah Ibn al-Mokaffa e , a Persian convert
from Zoroastrianism to Islam, who was therefore
a most appropriate intermediary. There is, how
ever, another account how the book got into
Arabic, which may be given here for its in
trinsic interest as well as from the fact that it is
one of the few things overlooked by Mr. Keith-
Falconer. Abraham Ibn Ezra, a wandering Jew
who visited many lands, England among them
in 1158, and wrote on many subjects grammar,
arithmetic, exegesis, poetry, and astronomy gave
the following account of the Arabic translation
in one of his astronomical tracts.*
* See Steinschneider, Zur Geschichte der Ueberset-
zungen aus dem Indischen in's Arabische, ZDMG. xxiv.
325-392.
xviii INTRODUCTION.
" In olden times there was neither science nor
religion among the sons of Ishmael that dwell in
tents till the [author of the] Koran arose and
gave them a new code of religion after his desire
. . . till the great king in Ishmael, by name Es-
'Saffah [fl. 750 A.D.], arose, who heard that there
were many sciences to be found in India . . .
and there came men saying that there was in
India a very mighty book on the secrets of govern
ment, in the form of a Fable placed in the mouths
of dumb beasts, and in it many illustrations, for
the book was greatly honoured in the eyes of the
reader, and the name of the book was Kalila and
Dimna, that is, the Lion and the Ox, because the
story in the first chapter of the book is about them.
The aforesaid king fasted therefore forty days, so
that he might perchance see the Angel of dreams,
who might allow him to have the book trans
lated in the Ishmaelitish tongue. And he saw
in his dream according to his wish. Thereupon
he sent for a Jew who knew both languages, and
ordered him to translate this book, for he feared
that if an Ishmaelite versed in both tongues were
to translate it he might die. And when he saw
that the contents of the book were extraordinary
as indeed they are he desired to know the
ARABIC VERSION. xix
science [of the Indians] [and he accordingly sends
the Jew to Arin, whence he brings back the
Indian numerals and several important astrono
mical works]."
There are two ways of explaining this account,
supposing it to be substantially true. Either
Al-Mokaffa employed the Jew as a "ghost" or
" devil, " or there were two Arabic versions, one
made from the Pehlevi, the other from the San
skrit. In the former case it would not be sur
prising to receive different accounts from the
"devil" and the advocate. But it would be
difficult to account for the biography of the Per
sian Barzoye in a translation from the Sanskrit,
and I am therefore inclined to think that Ibn
Ezra's account points to an independent transla
tion by a Jew from the Sanskrit direct into
Arabic. I am confirmed in this belief by the
remarkable variations in the Arabic MSS., which
clearly indicate two prototypes (Guidi, Studij sul
testo arabo del libro di Calila e Dimna, Kome,
1873), but must reserve details for another place.
And in this connection it is interesting to observe
the reference to illustrations in the Indian book
in Ibn Ezra's account. We have seen that some
xx INTRODUCTION.
of the Jatakas, or Buddhist Birth Stories, were
sculptured round sacred shrines as early as the
third century B.C., and the temptation is strong
to connect these Indian illustrations of the same
stories with the sculptures. When we come to
the Arabic version, we need no longer rely on
mere references to illustrations. They are still
extant : three of De Sacy's MSS. (Anciens
fonds 1483, 1492 ; St. Germain de Pres, 139)
have illustrations, and two others (Anc. fonds
1489, 1502) have places where the figures
are not, hut were clearly intended to be. The
latter fate has unfortunately attended the only
MS. of the Hebrew version" of K. Joel which
remains to us. But that there were illustrations
in other MSS. of this Hebrew version is testified
by a curious fact. A certain Eabbi Isaac Ibn
Sahula wrote in 1281 a goody goody collection
of tales termed "Tales of the Olden Time"
(Mashal Hakadmoni) in order to wean the
Jewish public from such books as Kalilah wa
Dimnah, which he expressly mentions. He tells
us that he has added illustrations so that his
book might be equally acceptable, and these
illustrations were given in the first edition of
ILLUSTRATIONS. xxi
his book* (Brescia, 1491?). Thus it is clear
that illustrations formed one of the attractions
of the Hebrew version of the Fables of Bidpai,
and, though we have them no longer, we have
a list of them inserted in their proper places
in the unique MS., and in M. Derenbourg's
excellent edition of it. Now, on comparing
the list with those actually given in the editio
princeps of the Latin version, which was made
from the Hebrew, a remarkable result appears.
I cannot display this better than by giving
for a few of the chapters in parallel columns
a translation of the list of illustrations referred
to in the Hebrew text, and an account of
the plates which are actually given in the first
edition of the Directorium, as well as in the first
German and Spanish _versions, which have the
same plates, t
* The British Museum possesses a unique copy of this,
with seventy-one illustrations, thirty-four of which are
of animals. On fol. 186 is one of two jackals, which
might easily pass for Kalila and Dimna.
+ Benfey has shown (Orient and Occident, i. 165) that
the plates were originally made for the German, as it
has seven more than the Latin, which issued from the
same press.
xxii INTRODUCTION.
CHAP. VI.
Referred to in Hebrew. Given in Lat. , Germ. , Span.
Ape in tree and reptile in Ape on tree, reptile in
water. water.
Animals in water. Ape and reptile in water.
Ape on tree and reptile in
water.
Lion and ass running away. Lion, ass, man, ape.
Lion seizing ass and fox Lion seizing ass, ape above.
looking on.
CHAP. VII.
Ascetic striking pot of
honey [ = La Perrette].
Child and dog killing ser- Child, dog killing serpent
pent. [ = Gellert].
CHAP. VIII.
Cat in net, bird on tree, Cat in net, bird on tree,
dog and mouse. dog and man.
Mouse gnawing net. Mouse gnawing net.*
Mouse, net, cat in tree, and Mouse, net, cat in tree, and
hunter going away. hunter going away.
CHAP. IX.
Child killing little bird. Child killing little bird.
Pinza taking child's eyes Bird like a gryphon [ =
out. Pinza] taking child's eyes
out.
King calling Pinza on a King calling Pinza on a
mountain. mountain.
* In German, not in Latin, for want of room. It
passed into the Spanish, showing that the latter used the
German (Benfey, I.e.).
TRADITIONAL ILLUSTRATIONS, xxiii
There is only one conclusion to be drawn from
the identity of the two lists. John of Capua
must have taken into his version the illustrations
in the Hebrew or copies of them. And combining
this with our other evidence about the Indian
and Arabic versions, there seems every reason to
believe that the illustrations were regarded as
an integral part of the text and were translated,
if one may say so, along with it. No notice has
been hitherto taken of this migration of illustra
tions, yet it may one day afford as interesting a
chapter in the history of art as the Fables them
selves have given to the history of literature.*
This traditional illustration of the Fables ceases
after the first editions of the Latin, German, and
Spanish appeared in print. Henceforth the work
of the illustrator was done "out of his own head."
Thus, the plates accompanying the Italian and
English, some of which are here reproduced,
cannot be brought into connection with India.
We give, however, a sample of the traditional
illustrations on p. Ixiii., to accompany the text of
the Baka Jataka, and it is surprising how ex
actly a design by a German artist of the fifteenth
* I have already collected materials for the Gellert
story, as illustrated in the MSS. and early editions.
xxiv INTRODUCTION.
century can be made to illustrate a tale told
probably by the^ Buddha nearly two thousand
years before.
These traditional illustrations may also be
made to play an important part in the criticism
of the Bidpai literature. They would serve as
the readiest means of testing the affiliation of
texts. In particular, they may bring order into
the confusion which now reigns as to the Arabic
version. I trust that henceforth no description
of an Arabic MS. of the Fables will be consi
dered complete without a list of its illustrations.
We may thus determine the question whether
there are not two distinct families of Arabic
MSS. of the Kalilah wa Dimnah, one of which
was derived directly from the Sanskrit by a
Jewish dragoman, according to the tradition
given by Abraham Ibn Ezra, which formed the
starting point of this long, but, I hope, not un
interesting or unimportant digression.
Whether any Jew was concerned in bringing
the Fables from India or no, there is no doubt that
Jewish intermediation brought them into mediae
val Europe. The Arabic version appeared under
the name of " Kalilah wa Dimnah," a softened
form of the Pehlevi Kalilag and Dimnag, which
WESTERN VERSIONS. xxv
represent the two jackals, Karataka and Dam-
anaka, of the first chapter of the Indian original.
From Arabic it was translated into the languages
of all the countries of Islam. Besides the late
Oriental versions, like the Persian and the Tur
kish, Kalilah wa Dimnahieached the West mainly
through three offshoots. The first of these was
a Greek version, done by Symeon Seth, a Jewish
physician at the Byzantine court in the eleventh
century : from this were derived the Old Slav
onic and the Croat versions. Then there was an
Old Spanish version which I have elsewhere
(Jewish Chronicle, 3d July 1885), shown to
have been translated in the College of Jewish
translators of Arabic works of science, estab
lished by Alphonso the Good at Toledo, about
1250; this gave rise to a Latin version. And
finally, there was a Hebrew version made by
by one Eabbi Joel, from which a Latin version
was made by John of Capua, a converted Jew,
under the title of Directorium humane vite, and
this gave rise to German, Spanish, Czech, Italian,
Dutch, Danish, and English versions.
It will thus be seen that the work before us
enjoys the unique distinction of having appealed
to all the great religions of the world. Originated
xxvi INTRODUCTION.
in Buddhism, it was adopted by Brahmanism,
passed on by Zoroastrianism to Islam, which
transmitted it to Christendom by the mediation
of Jews.
Besides the wide spread of the tales as a whole
by translation, several of them passed into popu
lar literature in more or less modified form. The
chase after these scattered references is a very
alluring one, but almost all the game has been
already bagged by that mighty hunter, Benfey.
In that eminent scholar's introduction to his
translation of the Pantschatantra (Leipzig, 1859)
he has traced each of the tales in its wanderings
with an amount of erudition which is phenomenal,
even in the land of erudition. Some idea of this
may be given by Professor Max Miiller's charm
ing essay " On the Migration of Fables " (Chips
from a German WorJcshop, vol. iv. pp. 145-209 ;
Selected Essays, i. pp. 500-576). Professor
Miiller has forgotten to mention that this is a
chip from another German's workshop,* yet as a
matter of fact, every reference to the tale of the
milk-maid who counts her chickens before they
* I have felt obliged to say this, first, because Professor
Miiller has not done so, and secondly, because in conse
quence he has been credited with original work on the
subject.
LEARNED DIFFUSION. xxvii
are hatched, is given in 209 of Benfey's Eirilei-
tung, and nearly every one of its 239 sections
affords material for a similar monograph. In
the analytical table of contents which I have
appended to this introduction, I have given
Benfey's references to each tale, so that the
reader may judge of their relative popularity.
Besides this spontaneous spread through Europe
of the Fables of Bidpai, there has been, during
the past two centuries, what may be termed a
learned diffusion of the various Oriental versions
of the Fables. As Orientalists became aware of
the interest and value of the Fables, they edited
or translated the Eastern versions, and thus a
mass of materials was collected which required
wide linguistic knowledge to master. The inves
tigation of the Bidpai literature began with Bishop
Huet in 1670, and was then carried on by Stark,
by Schultens, by Sylvestre de Sacy, and by
Loiseleur Deslongchamps, till, at the present day,
there is scarcely an Orientalist of note who has
not had his say and said something worth saying
about the Fables of Bidpai. Two names, how
ever, in the present generation, stand out most
prominently as the masters of all that is to be
known on this subject Theodor Benfey and
xxviii INTROD UCTION.
Joseph Derenbourg. Thus, by a curious coinci
dence, as the Jews were the chief agents in the
spontaneous spread of the Fables, so Jewish
scholars have done most for the scientific study
qf that spread.
Owing to this learned diffusion of the Fables,
it has come about that, within the last hundred
years, no less than twenty English translations
of various versions of Bidpai's Fables have been
published. Of these, fourteen are from various
Indian offshoots (for which see Mr. Bhys-Davids'
Table I.),* of which the most important are the
Hitopadesa, of which there are five English ver
sions, f and Somadeva's Katha-sarit-sagara, or
Ocean of the Elver of Tales. Besides these we
have Knatchbull's translation of the Arabic,
Eastwick's and Wollaston's versions of the Per
sian Anvari Suhaili, besides J. Taylor's translation
of the French version of its first four chapters,
which is interesting as being the first work with
* Adding M. Miiller's (interlineary) translation of the
Hitopadesa, Tawney's Katka-sarit-sagara, Winford's ver
sion of the Tamil Panchatantra, Manuel's translation of
the Urdu, and Fausboll's, Mr. Khys-Davids', and Dr.
Morris' versions of the Jatakas.
t The earliest of these by Wilkins (Bath, 1787) has
been reprinted by Professor Morley in his Universal
Library (No. 30).
ENGLISH VERSIONS. xxix
the title "Fables of Pilpay" (1699).* And
finally, we have Mr. Keith-Falconer's version of
the Later Syriac, and Mr. Kalston's reproduction
of Schiefner's curious " find " of the Tibetan ver
sion. All this may serve to justify the reprint of
the earliest of the twenty English translations,
and to indicate that to the many stories contained
in the book itself, must be added one more
wonderful still the story of its wanderings.
North's version, here republished, bears traces
of these peregrinations almost in every section.
Notwithstanding the warning to the reader of
the necessity of reading the book in connected
order, it is really an omnium gatherum from almost
every country and tongue through which the
original fables had passed on their way to Eng
land. Thus, the appeal " to the Reader " is from
the Italian. The Prologue appears first in Arabic,
though, the tales in it can be traced to Indian
sources. The Argument of the book goes a step
farther back, and must have been in the Pehlevi.
An interesting trait is omitted in the English
version, for Barzoye in the original asks as his
only reward that his life and exploits should be
added to the Fables of Bidpai, as indeed they
* Eeprinted recently in the Chandos Library.
xxx INTRODUCTION.
have been. The First Part is really a continua
tion of the " Argument " and, though it is not so
stated, is an abstract of Barzoye's account of his
religious views, a kind of Religio Medici, in
which the Buddhistic influence is strong. This
again can only go back as far as Persia, though
the celebrated tale with which it concludes occurs
also in " Barlaam and Josaphat," or the Life of
St. Buddha.* It is only with the Second and
Third Parts that we come upon the earliest stratum
of the Fables. These correspond to the first book
of the original Fables represented in the first book
of the Pantschatantra and in the second of the
Hitopadesa. The Fourth Part again is originally
an addition of Al-MokafiVs in the Arabic version.
The only things quite English in the book are, if
we may be excused the Hibernicism, the Italian
sonnet to North, and the other two poems (pp. 7-
10). The remaining three quarters of the Indian
original are not represented in North's version,
which is confined more strictly than any of the
others to the story of Kalila and Dimna. These
appear in the anonymous form of the ass and the
mule. Thus the illustration on p. 100 gives us
* In the illustration, the gentleman who is running
away from the four lions (four elements) is the same as he
that has fallen into the well.
NORTH'S VERSION. xxxi
the original jackal, Damanaka, of the Indian tale
under the form of " his Moyleship."
The proper names of the books also bear traces
of the phonetic detrition they have undergone,
owing to the wear and tear of ages. A German
scholar could easily fill this whole Introduction
with a dissertation on these proper names.* I
must content myself with one or two examples.
Though I have called the stories throughout " the
Fables of Bidpai," the name by which they are
best known in the book itself they are attributed
to the sage Sendebar. The reader might not think
it, but this can be traced back to the same ori
ginal as the name Bidpai. As thus : Bidpai was
originally Baidaba,f and in the Arabic MS. used
by the holyj Rabbi Joel, the diacritical points
* Most of Benfey's Introduction to the Old Syriac
version is devoted to this subject, and most properly so,
since it affords the crucial test of literary origin.
t It is doubtful whether the original was the Pehlevi
Wedawaka (Noldeke) or the Sanskrit Vidyapati, "lord of
knowledge" (Benfey). Other variants are Nadrab,
Sendebar, Sanbader, Bundabet, Bendabel, Barduben,
for which see Keith-Falconer, p. 271.
$ I use this epithet on the same principle as a youth
ful friend of mine who, on being told by his nurse that
she must not read stories on Sunday, replied, " But surely
you may read holy Grimm." At the same time our only
authority for attributing the Hebrew Version to Joel is
the poor one of Doni.
xxxii INTRODUCTION.
which distinguish between &, , and th had been
omitted, and the Rabbi who had also translated
the far-famed book of Sindibad, jumped to the
conclusion that these fables were also due to that
sage, and thought the reading to be Thindiba,
which he took the liberty of changing into Sin-
dibad. But revenge soon overtook him, for in
Hebrew there is a similar resemblance between
the letters d and r, and his translator, John of
Capua, read Sindibad as Sendebar, Q.E.D. A
similar misunderstanding of the Hebrew, accord
ing to Derenbourg, has changed the Shah Nur-
shirvan into Anestres Castri (p. 34). '
So much at present for the external history of
the work before us, which lends it so much of
its interest. But its contents claim our atten
tion in equal degree, for it has been claimed
for them that in them, or rather in their Indian
original, is to be found the fons et origo of all
folk-tales, or at any rate of all tales about
beasts. No one now-a-days would perhaps go so
far as to hold that we can trace every folk-tale
back to India, and to this particular collection,
but the temptation is often very strong to do so,
with M. Cosquin, for example (Contes populaires
ORIGIN OF FOLK-TALES. xxxiii
de Lorraine, Paris, 1882), or with Mr. Clouston
(Popular Tales and Fictions, 1887). As regards
the origin of folk-tales, the view is too extreme to
need much discussion.* Those who hold it over
look the fact that the " tell me a story " instinct
is as universal as any craving of mankind
Indeed I wonder that some one has not defined
Man as a tale-telling animal (with the corollary
of "Woman as a tale-bearing one). The only
plausibility which is given to the derivation of
all folk-tales from the East is given by the amaz
ing erudition of Benfey. At first sight it might
seem that all European folk-tales, and more also,
had been swept into the net of his Einleitung.
But if we take any particular collection and
investigate what proportion of it is to be found
referred to by Benfey, we get a more sober esti
mate of the influence of the Orient on folk-tales.
* I have not thought it worth while to refer to the
further refinement of those who, like Professor de Guber-
natis (Storia delle Novellini populari, Milan, 1883),
besides tracing all folk-tales back to India (he does this
for ten selected examples in the accompanying FlorUegio)
traces them when there to degradations of meteorological
myths about sun, moon, and stars. Even Professor Muller,
who applies his "sparrow-grass " theory of things to most
things in heaven and earth, would not go this length
(Set. Ess. i. 510).
C
xxxiv INTROD UCTION.
Thus, out of the two hundred mdrchen collected
by the Brothers Grimm, only eighteen are quoted
as parallels by Benfey,* and in many of these cases
the parallelism is only so far justified that there
seems to be no point of contact between the two
tales except that afforded by the common human
nature underlying them. Or working from the
other end we may attempt to calculate the pro
portion of any country's tales which can be traced
to the East. Professor Crane has selected from
the voluminous folk-literature of Italy 107 of
the most characteristic tales in his Italian Folk-
Tales, and of these he only traces a dozen (xxxvii.
xlviii.) to Oriental sources, a somewhat higher
percentage than in the German collection, as is
but natural, considering the closer proximity and
connection of Italy, and especially Sicily, with
the East. Altogether we shall not be far out
if we restrict the proportion of Oriental tales
among the folk-tales of Western Europe to one
in ten.
Another consideration will modify the some
what exaggerated claims that have been made
for the influence of our collection upon European
* 36, 92, 106, 120, 150, 155, 159, 165-8, 181, 186,
195, 208, 209, 212, 227.
ONE-TENTH FROM BIDPAL xxxv
folk-tales. It is true that these tales passed into
all the languages of Europe in translations, but a
large part of them never emerged from within
the covers of the translations, as may be seen by
referring to our analytical list of the stories.
At first sight it seems to argue a wide spread for
a story to see it quoted from " Anvari-Suhaili,"
"Hitopadesa," "Directorium vite humane," "Pan-
chatantra," "Exemplario," "Stephanite i Ich-
nelate," "Del governo degli animali," and so
on. Mr. Clouston especially is fond of ringing
these changes (Popular Tales, pass.) But after
all this is much the same as if one were to state
that a saying appeared^, in " the Torah " and " n
craXa/a diaQfaq " and " Das erste Buch Mose "
and "the Vulgate" and "the Peshitto " and
"Les saintes Ventures" and "Genesis" and
" the Douay Version," and all the other names
under which the Bible is known in translation.
All these are but one book, and though the
various translations may very properly be quoted
as testimonies to the popularity of the book,
they cannot be counted over and over again as
proving the popularity of each story. Or rather,
if a story occurs only in these translations, this
xxxvi INTRODUCTION.
tells dead against its popularity per se.* For
what does this imply 1 Surely that in the
struggle for existence among popular tales many
of those which found a footing in written or
printed literature failed to find any vogue in oral
literature. That there was an exosmose of ideas
and tales between the literate and illiterate is
undoubtedly the fact, but we know little of the
laws of intercommunication, and are likely, from
our ignorance of the exact processes of oral tra
dition,! to exaggerate its amount. Whenever
clear cases of the interfusion occur, as when we
can clearly trace the Grimms' story Simeliberg
(No. 142) to the Forty Thieves of the Arabian
Nights, the literary form of the original has left
its traces in some significant word or phrase, (in
that case the pass-word " Sesame "). Altogether
* Of the forty stories or so contained in this volume
only about ten (Ci, 4, D;c, Dg, Dga, E4a, E6, Eg, Eio,
and F4) can be said to be really popular. At the same
time, it should be added, that stories that are so popular
may be almost counted on the fingers.
t The only kind of oral tradition extant among us
consists in the stories more broad than long that cir
culate among young men in smoking rooms. In my sallet
days I have heard stories of this nature told me by a
Canadian, which I had previously heard with exactly the
a me turns of expression in Australia.
LITERARY AND ORAL TRADITION, xxxvii
we may say that the onus probandi falls upon
those who assert the Oriental origin of folk-tales,
and in their proof we cannot be content with the
assertion of a common " formula," which can only
show that some rural wit in Germany had ob
served the fickleness of woman or the vanity of
man in somewhat the same form as a brother
sage in India had done some hundreds of years
before. We have an exact analogy in the case
of novels : one of these days we may obtain a
scientific scheme of "formulae" for the huge
mass of novels, yet it would be hasty to assume
that every novel which might come under the
formula of " the lost heir " or " the innocent
accused," had been derived from the same ori
ginal.
There is still another reason why it is impro
bable that the Bidpai literature should have had
such influence on European folk-tales as has been
attributed to it. Incredible as it may seem, the
Fables were translated in the first period of their
spontaneous spread, not for the story-interest of
them, but on account of their moral interest
their "moral philosophy" as the title of the
Italian and English versions testifies. They
were regarded as homilies, and the tales were
xxxviii INTRODUCTION.
only tolerated as so much jam to give a relish to
the " morality." It was therefore appropriate
that these Asiatic tales with their Buddhistic ten
dencies should be introduced just at the period
when Europe was Asiaticising. For if we may
generalise ahout such big things as continents,
may we not say that the ideal of Asia has been
to be, that of Europe to do ?* And was it not the
striving of mediaeval Europe to be, and not pri
marily to do, that makes it seem so alien to us
moderns who have recovered the old European
tradition of Greeks and Romans and Teutons?
With touching simplicity, the mediaevals, like
the Asiatics, thought it only necessary to know,
in order to do, the right, and hence their appeal
to Oriental wisdom : alas, we moderns know
better ! It is important to notice this aspect of
the book, as it makes it still more remarkable
that it should have been accepted as a sort of
secular Bible, if we may so term it, by men of
so many different religions. There must have
been something essentially human in this Budd
histic book that it should have been welcomed as
a moral encheiridion by Zoroastrians, Moslems,
* Lindley Murray would perhaps have added that the
ideal of Africa has been to suffer.
ORIGIN OF BEAST-FABLES, xxxix
Jews, and Christians. Perhaps we may account
for this universal acceptance of its doctrines
because they seemed to come from the mouths
of those who could not be suspected of heresy
from our dumb brethren, the beasts.
And this leads me to discuss the claim of our
book, or its original, to be the source of all beast-
fables a claim for which a somewhat better case
has been made out. For India is the home of
metempsychosis, and there, if anywhere, the idea
of animals talking and willing like men might
seem most natural. Accordingly, Benfey would
trace all stories in which animals act in this way
back to India, though, curiously enough, he
claims a Western (Greek) origin for beast-tales
in which animals act "as sich." Against this a
claim has recently been set up for South Africa
by Professor Sayce, who points to the existence
of such fables quite independent of Indian influ
ence (Bleek, Reynard the Fox in South Africa,
1872). He connects with beast-fables, by some
link of association which is not too evident,
the existence in the South- African languages of
special " clicks " which accompany each animal
in the narration* (Science of Language, ii. 280-3).
* Thus we might tell the rhyme of the House that Jack
xl INTRODUCTION.
From the Bushmen or their ancient represen
tatives, it seems to be suggested, it may have
passed on to Egypt, and thence have percolated
to Phoenicia, Assyria, Greece (may not ^Esop
he connected with AW/o-vJ/, it is asked), and India.
Benfey himself gives some support to this con
tention by suggesting that in the first instance
metempsychosis was derived from Egypt.
But against all this inquiry about the place
from which beast-fables first came may be urged
the probability that they came from nowhere,
because they have always been everywhere where
nomad man was. The doctrine of metempsy
chosis itself we now know, thanks to Mr. Tylor,
to be merely an extension of the general tendency
of early races towards an " animistic " theory of
things, by which the savage observer of Nature
projects his personality into all surrounding
objects, whether animate or inanimate. The
built with appropriate "clicks" as follows : "This is the
cock that crowed in the morn (Cock-a-doodle-doo) to wake
the priest all shaven and shorn (Pax vobiscum), who
married the man all tattered and torn (Hdha-ha,-Jia) t
unto the maiden all forlorn (Hehe-he-he), that milked the
cow with the crumpled horn (Mooooo), that tossed the
dog (bow-wow), that worried the cat (mieaou), that killed
the rat (week),' 1 &c.
UBIQUITY OF FABLES. xli
prevalence of totemism is another proof of the
intense interest of men in the hunting stage
in the ways of animals. And if we may apply
the inverse method and argue back from the
infancy of the individual to the infancy of the
race, we may notice that the "gee-gee" and
the "bow-wow" are the first objects of interest
to the little ones.* Sir Richard Burton would
even go further, and sees the essence of the
beast-fable in " a reminiscence of Homo primi-
genius with erected ears and hairy hide, and its
expression is to make the brother brute to hear,
think, and talk like him with the superadded
experience of ages."f One hesitates to dissent
from so great an authority as Sir K. Burton on
all that relates to the bestial element in man.
* George Eliot's infantile imagination was first touched
by uEsop's Fables (Life, i. 20), and M. Bert sensibly
begins his First Tear of Scientific Knowledge with
Animals.
t I owe this quotation and my knowledge of Sir R.
Burton's views generally on this subject to an article by
Mr. T. Davidson on " Beast-Fables," in the new edition
of Chambers's Cyclopaedia, which sums up admirably the
present state of opinion on this subject, and a very con
fused state it is. Mr. Davidson quotes section 3 of the
notorious Terminal Essay of the Thousand Nights and
A Night.
xlii INTRODUCTION.
But it may be pointed out what an unconscionably
long memory the originators of beast-fables must
have had if it could bridge over the long lapse
of years required to turn the Darwinian Homo
into Man the Speaker. And as all men ex
hypothesi would have the same reminiscence of
their original identity with the beasts, it seems
rather inconsistent in Sir R. Burton to stand out,
as I understand he does, for an exclusively
African origin of beast-fables.
But we need not depend on imaginative hy
potheses of pre-historic psychogony in opposing
the contention for any single centre of dispersion
for beast-fables. Their exclusively Indian origin
at any rate, with which we are more particularly
concerned, is at once disproved by traces which
we can find of them in Egypt, Assyria, and
Judsea (Jotham's fable, Judges ix.), before any
connection with India can be established. In
deed on the 1 strength of Jotham's fable and
the many fables given or mentioned in the Tal
mud,* Dr. Landsberger some years ago argued
that Judaea was the original home of the Fable
* On these see Hamburger's Realencyclopddie des Tal-
muds s.v. Fabel, and a series of papers by Dr. Back in
Graetz's Monatschrift for 1881.
MOST ANCIENT FABLES. xliii
(Fdbeln des Sophos, 1859). But the Talmud is
late (150-450 A.D.), and the Kabbis to whom the
fables are attributed may easily have learned
their beast-fables from the Romans, just as they
took the chief elements of their culture from
Rome. M. Hale'vy has even suggested that the
Fables of Bidpai were known to the Talmudic
Doctors (Revue des etudes juives, XL, 195-200).
He finds a pair of words which with a little
coaxing can be made to resemble Kariralc and
Damondk. The words seem to mean in the text
a set of fire-irons, whence the connection with fire-
worshippers and with Persians, and so, with the
Pehlevi text of our fables is made out to the satis
faction of M. Halevy, who is on this occasion even
more ingenious than usual, which is saying a great
deal, but even less convincing than usual, which
is saying more. But apart from all this, priority
of time is against our deriving Indian fables from
the Talmudic ones or even asserting the indepen
dence of the latter.
Remoteness of locality might seem to be
equally effective in proving independence or
priority of time. For this reason the African
collections of Fables are especially interesting,
and have been adduced by Professor Sayce and
xliv INTRODUCTION.
Sir R. Burton, as we have seen, to establish
Africa as the origin of the Fable. Yet Benfey
promises (Pant, i., pp. 102, 183) to show traces
of Indian influence on the fables of the Senegal
negroes (Roger, Fables senegalaises, 1828), and on
those of the Bechuanas (Grimm-Hunt, ii. pp. 544-
554), through the medium of Arab slave-traders.
He nowhere carried out this promise, so far as I
can ascertain, but I think I can confirm his con
clusion by evidence from a most unexpected
quarter. Most of my readers will remember the
amusing collection of beast-fables from the slave-
states of America known by the name of Uncle
Remus. Nothing could seem more autochthonous
or more remote from Indian influences, and they
have already been adduced as convincing evi
dence of the ubiquity of beast-fables. Yet I am
much mistaken if I cannot connect the celebrated
incident of the " Tar-Baby," which forms the
nucleus of the collection as motivating the en
mity of Brer Rabbit and Brer Fox, with one of
the Jatakas or Buddhist Birth-stories. Every
one will remember how Brer Rabbit, annoyed at
the incivility of the Tar-Baby, chastises it with
his right paw and left paw, with right leg and
left leg, all of which stick to the " Baby," till at
BRER RABBIT AND BUDDHA. xlv
last he butts at the obnoxious infant with his
head, and is then at the mercy of Brer Fox, who
all the time has "lain low." Now compare
with this the following passage from the Jataka
of the Demon with the Matted Hair (Fausboll,
i. pt. ii. p. 272) as translated by Professor J.
Estlin Carpenter* (Three Ways of Salvation,
1884, p. 27). The Bodisat in one of his former
births as "Prince Five- Weapons " assails the
Demon of the Matted Hair in the midst of a
gloomy forest, " And with a resolute air he [the
future Buddha] hit him with his right hand, but
his right hand and his left hand, his right foot
and his left foot, were all caught in turn in the
Demon's hair, and when at last he butted at him
with his head that was caught too" The situa
tion is so unique and the parallelism so close
that we cannot avoid assuming a causal connec
tion between the two versions. Yet if that be
so, the Jataka of the Demon of the Matted Hair
must have passed from India to Africa with
Hindoo merchants or Arab slave-traders, must
then have crossed Equatorial Africa before
* I was put on the track of this by Mr. F. H. Jones,
Dr. Williams' Librarian, who heard Professor Carpenter's
address and was struck with the resemblance.
xlvi INTRODUCTION.
Livingstone or Stanley, then took ship in the hold
of a slaver across the Atlantic and found a home
in the log-cabins of South Carolina. No wonder
Brer Babbit was so 'cute, since he is thus shown
to be an incarnation of the Buddha himself.
This remarkable instance of the insidious spread
of Buddhistic fables is at anyrate sufficient to
give us pause before assuming that distance from
India proves independence from Indian influ
ences. We can only prove this by examples of
beast- fables known to have been in existence
before any contact with India can be shown.
Besides the instances of Egyptian, Assyrian, and
Bible fables, before referred to, we have the case
of Greece, which, as the home of ^Esop, deserves
more particular attention. We find a fable in
Hesiod (Op. et Dies, 202), two fables of Archi-
lochus are known, and almost the only poetical
thing in Byron's English Bards :
" So the struck eagle, stretch'd upon the plain,
No more through rolling clouds to soar again,
View'd his own feather on the fatal dart,
And wing'd the shaft that quiver'd in his heart, " *
is from a fable contained in a fragment of
* Byron got the idea from Waller, To a, Lady singing
a Song of his composing.
GREEK FABLES. xlvii
JEschylus' Myrmidons, which by the way does
something to confirm the African origin, since
the poet adds S'sffri ftvduv ruv AifivGnxuv "koyog
(Schol. in Arist. Aves, 808). Aristophanes again
has several references to -5Csopean fables, and
as we all know, Socrates in his last days occu
pied his leisure with " tagging " ^Esop. All this
was before any Indian influence could come in, .
and Benfey accordingly goes so far as to trace
the Indian fables of an ^Esopic type (i.e., where
the animals do not act as men, but in proprid
persona) to Greek or Western influence. But
the reasoning on which he bases this somewhat
startling result (I. p. xxi. 58, 130, 162) does
not give one as much respect for his judgment
as for his erudition. And at anyrate it is now
generally recognised that our ^Esop, the mediaeval
collection passing under that name, is strongly
impregnated with Indian elements from the
Bidpai literature.
Whether Phsedrus, and Babrius from whom he
borrows, can be traced back to the influence of
the Jatakas, and so to the original of our present
work, has not been thoroughly threshed out.* But
* "The History of the Greek Fable " forms the second
introductory Essay to Mr. W. G. Rutherford's Babrius.
xlviii INTRODUCTION.
I would point to a feature common to the Jatar
kas, the Fables of Bidpai, and those of Babrius
and Phsedrus. And that is the " moral-pidgin,"
as Mr. Leland's Chinaman would say, that is in
separably connected with all these forms of the
fable, though, if one thinks of it, the very raison
d'etre of the Fable is to imply its moral without
mentioning it. The whole book before us seems
to be written in the spirit of the Duchess in
Alice's Adventures who, it will be remembered,
concludes every statement of hers with the remark
" And the moral of that is ." This moralising
tendency is so distinctive a feature that one is
tempted to trace it to a definite and single
source, which can only be the gatha or " moral"
verse, of the Buddhistic JataJcas (see Appen
dix). That there was time for them to reach the
Hellenic world is shown by the fact that as early
as the time of Augustus a sramanaJcarja (teacher
of the Ascetics) created a great impression by
burning himself alive at Athens, where his tomb
was long afterwards to be seen with the inscription
ano 'Bagyoffys [Barygaza, then
He decides against any Indian influence in a very tren
chant manner, but more trenchant than convincing, as it
seems to me.
THE "MORALS" OF FABLES. xlix
a Buddhist centre] xarcb ra ^rarg/a 'Iv&uv tQq
Thus, although we cannot trace all beast-fables
to India, we may, I think, give Buddhism, as
represented by the book before us, the credit of
those that have a moral attached, which is the
case with most forms of the JEsopic fable. And
arrived at the end of our inquiry into the influ
ence of the book, we may trace it all to the
Buddhism latent in it. For we have seen its
wide acceptance due to the moral interest in it,
and its influence on the so-called Fables of ^Esop
also due to the " morals " attached to them, and
these moralities are the special things in the
book which are due to Buddhism. And still
more curiously the peculiar literary form of the
book, which, as we shall see, has been even
wider in its influence, can be traced back directly
to the person of the founder of the religion.!
* See Lightfoot, Colossians, p. 390-6, who, however, for
polemical purposes, dates Indian influence on the West
as late as possible. The learned Bishop, however, con
siders that St. Paul derived from this incident his striking
remark, " Though I give my body to be burned and have
not charity, it availeth nothing" (i Cor. xiii. 3).
t Against this Mr. Rhys-Davids points to the fact
that several of the Jatakas are already "frames ;" the
d
1 INTRODUCTION.
The idea of stringing a number of stories together
by putting them in a frame as in Boccaccio's
Decamerone, Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, Basile's
Pentamerone, and so on down to Mr. Pickwick
and Mr. Stevenson, is one that is distinctly to
be traced to the East in the Fables of Bidpai,
the book of Sindibad, and the Arabian Nights.
The last is late, and was influenced by the others,*
but the other two books which went through
much the same history are offshoots of Buddhism,
and in the case of Bidpai's Fables we have seen
how the idea of a frame arose in the JataJcas or
Birth Stories of Buddha. It is in the tendency
to collect all the "good things" of India about
the great exemplar of good in India that we must
see the origin of the literary device of " the
frame," which has done so much to keep intact
the book we have been discussing during its long
travels across the ages. Considering all .these
Ummaga-Jataka contains 150 stories. But the vogue
of the "frame" was due to Buddhism.
* Professor de Goeje has made out a plausible case for
tracing the frame story of the Thousand and One Nights
to the story of Esther (Ency. Brit., sub voce), as Shahzard,
is mentioned by Firdausi as a Jewish wife of Artaxerxes
I; But the idea of a " frame " must have been suggested
by the Indian books.
THE "FRAME" BUDDHISTIC. li
things, and remembering that Bidpai is only a
lay figure who takes the place of Buddha in
" moralising " the stories, may we not sum up our
conclusions as to their origin and influence by
roundly stating that the Tables of Bidpai are
the Fables of Buddha ? *
As the experienced reader might suspect from
all this insistence on the extrinsic interest of the
book before us that intrinsically it is as dull as
most books of Oriental apologues are, I hasten to
reassure him on the point. And in order to do
so, I must remind the reader of the man to whom
we owe it, and of his position in our literature.
Of the external events of Sir Thomas North's life
little definite is known, and that little has been
put together with his customary diligence and
accuracy by the late Mr. Cooper in his Atlience
Cantabrigienses (ii. p. 350-1). That Thomas,
* All this on the assumption that the remaining nine-
teen-twentieths of the Jataka tales are as full of the
Fables as the hundred or so that have been translated by
Fausboll, Mr. Rhys-Davids, Dr. Morris, and the Bishop
of Colombo. I suspect, however, that the Pali scholars
have already played, their strongest trumps. Benfey held
almost as good a hand thirty years ago : at anyrate our
two Jatakas are duly noted by him in their proper places
, 845 see also 61, 82, here DIG, 4).
lii INTRODUCTION.
second son of Edward, Lord North of Kirtling,
was educated at Peterhouse, Cambridge, entered
Lincoln's Inn in 1557, was presented with the
honorary freedom of Cambridge in 1568,* was
appointed captain of three hundred men raised
at Ely in the Armada times, had something to do
with thegaugers of ale and beer in 1591, was re
duced to accept a relief of 20 from the town-
council of Cambridge in 1598, and that he and
his son received further help from his brother's
will in 1600 these are the facts that form the
exoskeleton of his life. We are at present more
concerned with his literary productions. These
are three ; all of them translations. The first
was a version of Antonio de Guevara's Libro
aureo, a Spanish adaptation of Marcus Aurelius's
Meditations, which had an extraordinary vogue
throughout Western Europe at this time : North
translated mainly from the Erench version, but
did the last part into English from the original.
* From his familiarity with French and Italian, we
might surmise a grand tour about this time. The " G. B."
who wrote one of the introductory sonnets of our book
was probably an Italian friend thus acquired. Could he
have been Giordano Bruno, who came over to England
thirteen years later, and had therefore relations with
this country ?
NORTH'S LIFE. liii
This was published in 1568, and two years later
appeared "The Morall Philosophie of Doni,"* and
in 1579 came his most important work, the trans
lation of Plutarch, after the vigorous French of
Amyot. This was one of the most popular hooks
of the period, running through eight editions
within the century after its first appearance.
Most of us know it, or know of it, as the source
of Shakespeare's picture of the Koman world.
Yet, if recent research is to be trusted, North's
first book, the translation of Guevara, which he
called The Dial of Princes, had almost as much
influence as his Plutarch. For Dr. Landmann
in an ingenious essay (Der Euphmsmus, Giessen,
1881) has attempted to trace Euphuism to the
influence of Guevara. It is true Mr. S. L. Lee
interprets this to mean that Euphuism had for
* As we are on biographies, a word or two may be
spared to the Doni, who forms part of the title of our
book. He was a real person Antonio Francesco Doni
flourishing in Italy in the middle of the sixteenth
century (b. 1513, d. 1574) as a kind of journalist at
Florence, his birthplace ; Venice, where he wrote the
Moral Philosophia in 1552; Ancona, whither he retired
from fear of the Inquisition ; and at Montselice, where
he died. He was a novelist as well as a fabulist, and in
the former capacity appears in Roscoe's Italian Novelists,
where eight of his novels are translated.
liv INTRODUCTION.
its literary parent Lord Berners, the translator of
Froissart, who also Englished Guevara's book
"before North in 1539 (see his edition of Berners'
Huon of Burdeux, E.E.T.S. iv. pp. 785-6). But
Berners' version was made from the French, and
it is difficult to see how the Spaniard's style could
be caught except in a version made from the
Spanish, as was in large measure that of North,
who must therefore be regarded as the father of
Euphuism, if that style is to be traced to Guevara
alone. But as a matter of fact such a tendency
to over-ornamentation as is shown in Euphuism
came to all the literatures of West Europe as a
natural development after they had passed the
apprenticeship of translation, and became conscious
of the delights of literary artifice.
North came just mid-way between the exag
gerated Ciceronianism of Berners, Elliot, and
Ascham, his chief predecessors, and the exagge
rated Guevarism (if it must be so) of Lyly and
his school ; and because he did so, we see in him
Tudor prose at its best. In the Elizabethan
period our language attained both ease and
dignity, but the ease of Greene and the pamph
leteers was never dignified, and the dignity of
such men as Hooker was rarely easeful. North
NORTH AND EUPHUISM. Iv
alone, so far as I know, had ease with dignity,
and so ranks rightly as the first great master of
English prose. He alone of his era had the art
of saying great things simply, as he does so often
in his Plutarch.
If I mistake not, the hook here brought again
to light displays these qualities in no less a degree.
It comes as a happy medium between the stateli-
ness of his Guevara and the grandeur of his Plu
tarch, with its Italian vivacity tempered with far
off echoes of Oriental gravity. It argues a master
of language to have been equal to so many styles.*
Let us hear a couple of his sentences: "To be
alone it griueth vs : to be accompanied it troubleth
vs : to live long it werieth vs : and sufficient con-
tenteth vs not." That might have come from one
of the finest of the Homilies : notice the subtle turn
of the last clause just when the parallelism is be
ginning to cloy. Again : " His Moyleship brauely
yerked out with both legges and liuely shook his
eares and head. He brayed and flong as he
had bene madde." There is vigour and crispness.
* North's French prototype, Amyot, showed the
same versatility of style, being equally successful with
Plutarch and with Daphnis and Chloe. (Saintsbury,
French Lit., 232.)
Ivi INTRODUCTION.
North is at his Lest in the dialogues and soli
loquies which are scattered so frequently through
the book, and it is there too that he departs most
freely from the Italian version, which as a rule
he follows closely. The flexibility of his style
comes out in these speeches : contrast, for ex
ample, the vigour of the exulting speech of " the
Moyle" (Dimna) when he has entrapped the
Bull (p. 177) with the courtier-like gravity with
which he has just approached King Lion (p. 129),
and the friendly persuasion with which he has
won over the Bull (p. 147).
Another mark of the fine instinct which North
displays as a literary artist is the fact that so few
of his words have become obsolete. There are
scarcely a dozen passages in the book which fail
to yield their meaning on a first reading owing
to this cause.* And yet with all this the book
is full of those racy quaintnesses which give to
Elizabethan English something of the charm of
the pretty prattlings of early childhood : the
* Some readers may be glad to have the following
equivalents -.flight (p. 55) = fled j draffe (82) = dregs ;
bucke (95) = lye (?) ; girned (103) = mocked ; dole (127)
= share. Few will care to know that 'cockle' (113) =
Angrostemna githago, Linn., and I should like to know
what 'coccomber' (178) means.
THE STYLE OF THE BOOK. Ivii
interjections in particular, "Tut a figge," "What
a goodyere," and the like, resemble the inarticu
late cries of childhood, and come most appropriate
in a literature after a ISTew Birth.
And the book which North has clothed in this
style has greater claims to artistic unity than
most collections of Oriental tales. With happy
tact, he did not translate the second part of Doni
(Trattati diver si) t which contains a farrago of
Oriental tales culled from all quarters, which pro
duce the same bewildering effect as most of the
Oriental collections. North, by confining him
self to the first part of the Moral Philosophies,
corresponding to the first chapter of the original
Sanskrit,* has given a certain amount of consist
ency to his version of Bidpai which is lacking in
all the others. Three-quarters of the book repre
sent the intrigues of the wily Dimna against the
simple-minded Senesba.
Here I must stop. One who edits a " find "
cannot hope to be trusted about its artistic merits.
* It must not be supposed that our book contains only
one-thirteenth of the original. The first chapter is ex
ceptionally long, so that our version represents about one-
fourth of the original Sanskrit, and rather more than
a third of the Arabic version, from which most of the
European representatives come.
Iviii INTRODUCTION.
If I go on further, I foresee the sort of mental
dialogue which will pass between my reader and
myself. " What," the reader will exclaim, " the
first literary link between India and England,
between Buddhism and Christendom, written in
racy Elizabethan with vivacious dialogue, and
something distinctly resembling a plot. Why,
you will be trying to make us believe that
you have restored to us an English Classic ! "
"Exactly so," I should be constrained to reply,
and lest I be tempted into this temerity, I will
even make a stop here.
APPENDIX.
BUDDHIST BIRTH-STORIES OCCURRING
IN THE MOEALL PHILOSOPHIE.
I. BAKA JATAKA.
The Cruel Crane Outwitted.
[Fausboll, No. 38 ; Rhys Davids, pp. 315-321 ; North,
infra, pp. 118-122].
Wqz fotllatn, tfjougfj exceeding cleber. This the master
told when at Jetavana about a monk who was a tailor
-{and used to cheat his customers by changing old
clothes patched up, for new cloth. He is however out
witted by a tailor from the country, who cheats him
by taking the cloth in exchange for old clothes dyed to
look like new]. And one day the monks sat talking
about this in the Lecture Hall, when the Teacher came
up and asked them what they were talking about, and
they told him the whole matter.
Then the Teacher said, "Not now only has the
Jetavana robe-maker taken other people in in this
way, in a former birth he did the same. And not
Ix APPENDIX.
now only has he been outwitted by the countryman,
in a former birth he was outwitted too." And he told
a tale.
Long ago the Bodisat was born to a forest life as
the Genius of a tree standing near a certain lotus
pond.
Now at that time the water used to run short at
the dry season in a certain pond, not over large, in
which there were a good many fish. And a crane
thought, on seeing the fish
"I must outwit these fish somehow or other and
make a prey of them."
And he went and sat down at the edge of the water,
thinking how he should do it.
When the fish saw him, they asked him, ' ' What
are you sitting there for, lost in thought ? "
" I am sitting thinking about you," said he.
" Oh, sir ! what are you thinking about us ? " said
they.
" Why," he replied; "there is very little water in
this pond, and but little for you to eat ; and the heat
is so great ! So I was thinking, ' What in the world
will these fish do now ? ' "
"Yes, indeed, sir ! what are we to do ? "
" If you will only do as I bid you, I will take you
in my beak to a fine large pond, covered with all the
kinds of lotuses, and put you into it," answered the
crane.
" That a crane should take thought for the fishes is
a thing unheard of, sir, since the world began. It's
eating us, one after the other, that you're aiming
at!"
" Not I. So long as you trust me, I won't eat you.
BAR A JATAKA. Ixi
But if you don't believe me that there is such a pond,
send one of you with me to go and see it."
Then they trusted him, and handed over to him one
of their number a big fellow, blind of one eye, whom
they thought sharp enough in any emergency, afloat
or ashore.
Him the crane took with him, let him go in the
pond, showed him the whole of it, brought him back,
and let him go again close to the other fish. And he
told them all the glories of the pond.
And when they heard what he said, they exclaimed,
" All right, sir ! You may take us with you."
Then the crane took the old purblind fish first to
the bank of the other pond, and alighted in a Varana-
tree growing on the bank there. But he threw it
into a fork of the tree, struck it with his beak, and
killed it ; and then ate its flesh, and threw its bones
away at the foot of the tree. Then he went back and
called out
" I've thrown that fish in ; let another come ! "
And in that manner he took all the fish, one by one,
and ate them, till he came back and found no more !
But there was still a crab left behind there ; and
the crane thought he would eat him too, and called
out
"I say, good crab, I've taken all the fish away,
and put them into a fine large pond. Come along.
I'll take you too ! "
" But how will you take hold of me to carry me
along ? "
" I'll bite hold of you with my beak."
"You'll let me fall if you carry me like that. I
won't go with you ! "
" Don't be afraid ! I'll hold you quite tight all the
way."
Then said the crab to himself, "If this fellow once
Ixii APPENDIX.
got hold of fish, he would never let them go in a
pond ! Now if he should really put me into the
pond, it would be capital; but if he doesn't then
I'll cut his throat and kill him ! " So he said to
him
"Look here, friend, you won't be 'able to hold me
tight enough ; but we crabs have a famous grip. If
you let me catch hold of you round the neck with my
claws, I shall be glad to go with you."
And the other did not see that he was trying to
outwit him, and agreed. So the crab caught hold of
his neck with his claws as securely as with a pair of
blacksmith's pincers, and called out, " Off with you,
now ! "
And the crane took him and showed him the pond,
and then turned off towards the Varana-tree.
" Uncle ! " cried the crab, " the pond lies that way,
but you are taking me this way ! "
" Oh, that's it, is it ! " answered the crane. " Your
dear little uncle, your very sweet nephew, you call
me ! You mean me to understand, I suppose, that I
am your slave, who has to lift you up and carry you
about with him ! Now cast your eye upon the heap
of fish-bones lying at the root of yonder Varana-tree.
Just as I have eaten those fish, every one of them,
just so I will devour you as well ! "
' ' Ah ! those fishes got eaten through their own
stupidity," answered the crab, "but I'm not going to
let you eat me. On the contrary, it is you that I am
going to destroy. For you in your folly have not seen
that I was outwitting you. If we die, we die both
together ; for I will cut off this head of yours, and
cast it to the ground ! " And so saying, he gave the
crane's neck a grip with his claws, as with a vice.
Then gasping, and with tears trickling from his
eyes, and trembling with the fear of death, the crane
BAKA JATAKA.
Ixiii
"beseech ed him, saying, "0 my Lord! Indeed I did
not intend to eat you. Grant me my life ! "
" Well, well ! step down into the pond, and put me
in there."
And he turned round and stepped down into the
pond, and placed the crab on the mud at its edge.
But the crab cut through its neck as clean as one
would cut a lotus-stalk with a hunting-knife, and
then only entered the water !
When the Genius who lived in the Varana-tree saw
this strange affair, he made the wood resound with
his plaudits, uttering in a pleasant voice the verse
" &fje m'ilain, tijou<t.fj exceeding clcber,
Sfjall prosper not fog fjts billing.
?^e mag fain tntieeD, sfjarpsimtteo in Deceit,
23ut onlg as t[je (rane fjro from tfje &taft ! "
Ixiv APPENDIX.
When the Teacher had finished this discourse, show
ing that " Not now only, mendicants, has this man
been 'outwitted by the country robe-maker, long ago
he was outwitted in the same way," he established the
connexion, and summed up the Jataka, by saying,
"At that time he [the crane] was the Jetavana robe-
maker, the crab was the country robe-maker, but the
Genius of the Tree was I myself."
The part in italics is called "The Story of the
Present," and that in ordinary type is "The Story
of the Past," of which the verses (gatha} in old Pali
probably formed the literary nucleus, and were
handed on as a peg on which the stories hung. Both
the stories were ultimately written down as a com
mentary on the verses with the first line of which the
Jataka begins.
On the wide extension this story has found when
divorced from its connection with the Buddha, see
note in Analytical Table of Contents, infra, p. Ixxiv.
It is to be found in the Morall Philosophic, pp. 1 18-22,
and considering that it has passed through more than
a thousand years, and no less than seven languages
on its way from Pali to English, it has preserved its
identity with remarkable success.
The illustration is from the editio princeps of the
Latin (reduced), and, as I have shown, has a tradi
tional connection with the story in its Indian form,
and may one day, I hope, be traced to a rock carving
representing this very Jataka, on one of the Buddhist
stupas.
APPENDIX. Ixv
II. KACCHAPA JATAKA.
The Talkative Tortoise.
[Fausboll, No. 215, also Five Jatakas, 1871, pp. 16, 41 ;
Rhys-Davids, pp. viii-x; North, infra, pp. 170-175].
Once iipon a time, when Brahma-datta was reigning
in Benares, the future Buddha was born in a minister's
family ; and when he grew up, he became the king's
adviser in things temporal and spiritual.
Now this king was very talkative : while he was
speaking, others had no opportunity for a word. And
the future Buddha, wanting to cure this talkativeness
of his, was constantly seeking for some means of
doing so.
At that time there was living, in a pond in the
Himalaya mountains, a tortoise. Two young harhsas
(i.e., wild ducks) who came to feed there, made friends
with him. And one day, when they had become
very intimate with him, they said to the tortoise
" Friend tortoise ! the place where we live, at the
Golden Cave on Mount Beautiful in the Himalaya
country, is a delightful spot. Will you come there
with us ? "
" But how can I get there ? "
"We can take you, if you can only hold your
tongue, and will say nothing to anybody."
" Oh ! that I can do. Take me with you."
"That's right," said they. And making the tor
toise bite hold of a stick, they themselves took the
two ends in their teeth, and flew up into the air.
Seeing him thus carried by the hamsas, some villa
gers called out, " Two wild ducks are carrying a tor
toise along on a stick ! " Whereupon the tortoise
e
Ixvi APPENDIX.
wanted to say, "If my friends choose to carry me,
what is that to you, you wretched slaves ! " So just
as the swift flight of the wild ducks had hrought him
over the king's palace in the city of Benares, he let
go of the stick he was hiting, and falling in the open
courtyard, split in two ! And there arose a universal
cry, "A tortoise has fallen in the open courtyard,
and has split in two ! "
The king, taking the future Buddha, went to the
place, surrounded by his courtiers ; and looking at
the tortoise, he asked the Bodisat, " Teacher ! how
comes he to be fallen here ? "
The futute Buddha thought to himself, "Long
expecting, wishing to admonish the king, have I
sought for some means of doing so. This tortoise
must have made friends with the wild ducks; and
they must have made him bite hold of the stick, and
have flown up into the air to take him to the hills.
But he, being unable to hold his tongue when he
hears any one else talk, must have wanted to say
something, and let go the stick ; and so must have
fallen down from the sky, and thus lost his life."
And saying, "Truly, O king! those who are called
chatter-boxes people whose words have no end
come to grief like this, " he uttered these Verses
" Fertlg tfje tortoise fctlleo fjimsetf
uttering fjt's boice ;
fje foas joining tigfyt tfje sticfe,
a foorti fjimself fje slefo.
fjim tfjen, excellent 6g strengtf; !
^ttU speaft &rise faortrs not out of season.
ff ou see fjofo, fcg f)is talking ooermucf),
&f)e tortoise fell into tfjts foretcFjc& pligfjt ! "
K ACCRA? A JATAKA. Ixvii
The king saw that he was himself referred to, and
said, " O Teacher ! are you speaking of us ? "
And the Bodisat spake openly, and said, " O great
king ! be it thou, or be it any other, whoever talks
beyond measure meets with some mishap like this."
And the king henceforth refrained^ himself, and
became a man of few words.
This again is a very widely extended tale, (see
Table of Contents, E4a), and has lost little of its
effectiveness in North's version. The quaint illustra
tion, p. 174, would serve for the Pali original equally
well as for its English great-great -great -great-great-
great-grand- child.
ANALYTICAL TABLE OF CONTENTS.
With Parallels to the Tales mainly from Benfey and
Derenbourg.
Tr. = Translations. A d.= Adaptations. Plls. = Parallels.
PAGE
To the Header 5
[Italian at back of Title-page.]
Al Lettore, G. B., T. N. to the Header ;
E. C. to the Reader .... 7-10
[Only in English, second by North.]
A. THE PROLOGUE i3~33
[Originally in Arabic of Abdallah ibn
Almokaffa De Sacy, 45-59 (Knatchbull,
47-64), as 3rd chapt. Tr. Persian I.,
Greek, 22-33, Latin, 4-13, Hebrew II.,
313-18, Spanish, II. , ii.-va, German, A.
ii. a- A., vi. b, Italian, 2; Benfey, 14.]
(1) Of a husbandman who lost the
treasure he found . . . 17-20
[Tr. as above ; Ad. Baldo and Kay-
mond in Edelestand du Meril Poesies
inedites, 218.]
(2) Of a simple man desirous to seem
learned . ... 20-22
[Tr. as above ; Ad. Me"ril, 219.]
CONTENTS. Ixix
(3) Too slothful to catch thieves . . 22-24
[Tr. as above ; Ad. Meril, 220.]
(4) One trying to obtain the greater
of two heaps of corn gets the less
by his own cunning . . . 25-27
[Tr. as above ; two stories of origi
nal Arabic being omitted.]
(5) A robber surprised leaves his money
behind 28-31
[Tr. as above ; the gold and silver
in the cape added by Germ., and
hence into Spanish II., Italian, and
North..]
B. THE ARGUMENT OF THE BOOK . . 34-41
[Must have been in Pehlevi (now lost),
hence into Arabic, as Chapter II. (Knatch-
bull, 32 seq.); Persian I. Not. 103-112;
Greek, 7, &c. ; Latin, 14-16 ; Hebrew II.,
319-320; Spanish. I., 13 6. |The same
account in Firdausi, Shahnameh (Moh.1,
** 3S4-3 6 S)- On the Indian tree of life,
Renaud, Memoiresur I'Inde, 130 ; Burnouf,
Lotus, 83.]
C. THE FIRST PART 43-46
[Properly a spiritual biography of "Bero-
zias, " and therefore in Pehlevi, thence into
Arabic, 61, and other translation follow
ing above (Argument); also in Syriac II.,
.375 (Keith-Falconer, 248-267). Cf. Mal
colm, Sketches inPersia, L, 143-148, B 17.]
(i) A thief caught riding the moon
beams ..... 47-52
[Tr. as above ; Plls. Discip. Cler.,
xxv., Gest. Rom., cxxxvi. ; Of. Dun-
lop-Liebrecht, 195-196, Note 262%
Oesterley, ad loc., p. 734.]
Ixx CONTENTS.
PAGE
(2) The lover enticed by a husband
into a jakes .... 54-5 5
[Tr. as before.]
(3) A jeweller has to pay for letting
his workman play to him . . 56-58
[Tr. as before.]
(4) A parable of this world : a man in
the midst of all manner of dangers
falls to eating honey . . . 60-63
[Tr. as before (but skipping three
stories in Arabic and off snoots, among
them the Dog and Shadow fable).
Plls., Dubois, Mceurs de Vlnde, II.,
127 ; Somadeva, v. 38-97 ; Sinhasana,
pp. 23 seq. ; Julien, Avadanas, i.
132, 191 ; Barlaam, c. 12 ; Dunlop-
Liebrecht, Note 72*; Gesta Rom., 168
(Oesterley, 739") ; Dchelaleddin Di-
wan (Hammer, 183) ; Grimm, Dent.
Myth., I., 758; Riickert, Ges. Schr.,
I., 51 ; Homayun Namah, iv. ; Lie-
brecht, Zur Volkskunde, 457.]
D. THE SECOND PART .... 64-127
[This and the next part correspond to
the first chapter of the Sanskrit original,
now lost, and of the Panchatantra, =Hito-
padesa, Bk. IL,=Katha-sarit-sagara, Tar.
49,= Syr. I. ch. i.,=Arab. I. ch. V.,=
Greek I. ch. i.,= Latin I. ch. ii. (036-
ioo),=:Pers. I. ch. iii.,=Pers. II. ch. i.
(Eastwick, p. 71 seq. ). On the variations
in the main story see B. 6, 21-23, 2 9>
34, 43, 46-48, 54, 64, 66-69, 74, 75, 81,
88, 90, 98, 102, 107. It also appears in
shortened form in a Siamese Buddhistic
tale Asiatic Res. xx. 348, and in the Tibetan
CONTENTS. Ixxi
Sidikur, Tale 19 (Sagas from the Far East,
p. 192-197). The names of the two oxen
were originally Sanjivaka (Arab. Shanza-
beh, Lat. Senesba) and Nandaka (Arab.
Banzabeh, Lat. C/ienedba), which Firen-
zuola, and after him Doni and North,
altered to Chiarino and Incoronata. The
anonymous ass and mule of the English
version were in the original two jackals,
Karataka("crow," Syr. I. Kalilag, Arab.
I. Kalilah, Lat. I. Oelila, Span. II. Eelile),
and Damanaka ("tamer," Syr. I. Damnag,
Arab. I. Dimnah, Lat. I. Dimna). For the
translations of the various stories it will
only be necessary to refer to Benfey's sec
tions giving the Sansk., Arab., Pers., Ger.,
Span., and Ital. versions, and to Deren-
bourg's edition of the Directorium, which
gives the Lat., Heb. I. & II., Syr. I. & II.]
Introduction 64-66
[Only in Italian, including the stories of
(a) the belly and members, from Livy, and
(b) horse and stag, from ^Esop, Halm, 175.]
(1) An ape being curious about a wood
man splitting a tree with a wedge
is caught in the cleft . . . 73-74
[2V. B 30, D 40 n. i (not in Syr.
L). Plls. Luther Fabul Hans, p.
530. <7/. JEsop, Fur. 162, Halm, 362;
Syntipas, 46 ; Vartan, 31.]
(2) Wolf is released from a trap on
promising to amend : breaking
his promise is restored to the trap
and killed 77-78
[This form original to Italian of
Doni, B 36adfin. Cf. Disc. Cler. vii.j
Ixiii CONTENTS.
PAGE
(3) Buriaso fattens a sow and then kills
her 82
[Only in Italian of Doni.]
(4) A quail is saved from a sparrow-
hawk by noticing its acts more
than its words .... 84
[Only in Italian of Doni]
(5) A captured Turkey pretends to be
on a visit to his captors till his
pride is humbled and he submits
to be ransomed .... 89-91
B [Only in Italian of Doni.]
(6) A fox, hearing the sound of mule-
bells, is afraid ; which seeing, he
fears no longer .... 93-94
[B 41, D 50 n. Originally a drum
hanging on tree, but "tympanum"
of Latin, translated ' ' schell " by
Germ. causes change in Span., Ital.,
and Eng.]
(7) A devout man, entertaining a thief
unawares, is robbed by him, and
sees three things in pursuing after
him 104-111
[B 50, D 53. Plls. This and the
three following have passed into the
looi Nights (Prenzlau, iv. 261-273)].
(7a) Two goats fight ; a fox watching
them too curiously gets butted
and dies 105-106
[B 50, D 53 n. 8. Plls. Eeineke
Fuchs (ed. Grimm, cclxxvii.); Rob
ert, Fables, cxxvi.]
CONTENTS. Ixxiii
PAGE
(;b) A bawd trying to blow poison into
a young man's ear, swallows it
herself and dies .... 106-107
[B 51, D 53 n. 9 ; only in Arabic
and offshoots. Plls. Cent. nouv.
nouv., ii. ; Malespina, No. 37.]
(70) A husband ties his wife to a pillar
at night ; a bawd takes her place
and has her nose cut off for refus
ing to speak : the wife returning
pretends to call upon heaven to
restore her nose as a proof of her
innocence 108-111
[B 50, D 54 n. 3. Plls. Vetala-
pan<javincati (in 5 variants) ; Tuti-
nameh (Kadiri, xvii. ; Rosen II. 92) ;
Bahar Danush, II. 83 ; Barbazan-
Me'on, iv. 393 ; Vierzig Viziere (Behr-
nauer, 173) ; Aristsenetus, JSpist., ii.
22 ; Morlini, Nov. 27 ; Cent. nouv.
nouv. xxxv. Ixi. ; Gesammtaben-
teuer, xliii. ; "W. Grimm in Zt. deut
Alt., xi. 2, 213, No. 13. Cf. Von
der Hagen, II. , xv.-xviii. , xlii.-xlix. ;
III., xci. ; Dun lop (Germ.), 242;
Deslongchamps, 33.]
(8) An eagle finding a leveret devoured
it notwithstanding the remon
strance of a beetle, which never
theless avenges the leveret by
destroying the eagle's eggs . . 114-116
[Seemingly only in Doni ; ? from
Lat.JEsop. cf. L'Estrange, ccclxxviii.]
(9) A raven whose young are killed by
a snake, revenges herself by carry-
Ixxiv CONTENTS.
PAGE
ing off a jewel to the snake's hole
in the presence of men, who pursue
it and thereby kill the snake in
seeking the jewel . . .116-122
[B 58, D 58 n. 2. Plls. looi
Nights (Weil. III., 916); Maha-
vanso, 128; Gest. Rom., cv. (Oest.,
728); Gesammtabenteuer, II., 635;
III., clxiii. Of. ^Esop, Fur. i, Halm,
5 ; Phsed., I., 28 ; Syntipas, 24 Ugo
bard, 14 ; Vartan, 3 ; Meril, 194 ;
Arist., Aves, 652; Pax., 126. B. thinks
derived from " ^Esop." Cf. 86.]
(9a) A " Paragon," pretending that the
lake is to be drained, persuades
some fishes to allow him to carry
them off, whereupon he devours
them ; on trying to do the same
with a crab, he has his head bitten
off 118-122
[B 60, D 58. Plls. Lafontaine,
x. 4. A Jataka, says B. Cf. Upham,
Sacred Books of Ceylon, III., 292,
and Dhammapada (ed. Fausboll,
155), but compares JEsop, Fur. 231,
Halm, 346, where also a crab vic
torious. The Jataka is given in
Rhys-Davids, v. supra, pp. lx-lxiii.]
( 10) The animals agree to provide a lion
with one of themselves daily by
drawing lots. The lot falling on
the fox, he rouses the lion's jeal
ousy against another lion whom
he pretends to be down a well.
CONTENTS. Ixxv
PAGE
The lion seeing his own image,
jumps down and is killed , . 123-126
[B 61, D 6 1 n. i. Plls. Reineke
Fuchs (Grimm, cclxxviii. ) ; Disc.
Cler., xxiv. (cf. Schmidt, 155) ;
Hodgson in Journ. Asiat. Soc., 1836,
p. 83 (a Jataka). B. suggests that
idea of animals casting lots is derived
from the beautiful Jataka of the
Banyan Deer (Hiouen Thsang, ed.
Julien, I., 361). Cf. Ehys-Davids,
pp. 205-10.*]
E. THIRD PART 128-215
[Contains continuation of first chapter
of Indian original and offshoots ; see ana
lytical note to Part Second. The lion
who was originally terrified at the roaring
of the bull Chiarino (=Senesba), has made
friends with him through the intermedia
tion of the "Moyle" (=the jackal, Dim-
na), who finding himself neglected, plots
against the bull and sets the lion against
him, so that a fight ensues in which the
bull is killed.]
(1) Three great fishes are in a lake
which is being drained : one
escapes by hiding, another by
cunning, but the third is destroyed
by his own laziness . . . 132-135-
[B 65, 85, D 65 n. i. Plls.
Mahabharata, xii., 4889 seq.]
(2) A flea revenges itself on a louse by
enticing it into the bed of a prin-
* This is figured in Gen. Cunningham's "Stupa of Bharhut,"
PI. xxv. No. i.
Ixxvi CONTENTS.
PAGE
cess whence the flea escapes but
the louse is caught and killed , 137-141
[B 72, D 67 n. 7 ; not in Hito-
padesa or Anwari-Suhaili.J
(3) The lion is ill ; the wolf, the fox, and
the raven persuade the camel to
offer himself for dinner by pre
tending the same themselves . 153-167
[B 78, D 76 n. 2. Pits. Pants-
chatantra, I., 16 ; IV., 2; Bahar
Danush, II., c. 19 ; Msop Fur.' 356,
Halm, 243 ; Babr., 95. Of. B 181 ;
Deslongchamps, 37 n. i ; Lance-
reau's Hitopadesa, 253. Alterations
in Germ. I. have influenced Ital.
and North.]
(4) A cock-linnet persists in building
his nest by the sea against the
advice of his spouse ; the sea rises
and destroys the nest . ... 169-176
[B 82, D 81 n. 5. Plls. Mso-p Fur.
240, Halm, 29 (from Planudes, who
took it from Greek I.) With ending
B. compares two Jatakas Hardy,
Buddhism, 106 ; Hiouen Thsang, ed.
Julien, L, 335. This end has dis
appeared in Italian and English.]
(4a) A tortoise biting a stick carried
by waterfowls through the air
opens its mouth to answer birds
that mock it and thereby falls . 170-175
[B 84, D 82 n. 3. Plls. Robert,
II., 252. A Jataka. Cf. Hardy,
309, and Julien Avadanas, L, 71-73 ;
CONTENTS. Ixxvii
PAGE
c/. 122-126. See now Khys-Davids,
supra, pp. Ixv.-vii. Derived, accord
ing to B. , from -ZEsop Fur. 193, Halm,
419 ; Plued., II., 7; VII., 14 ; Abst.,
108.]
(5) Apes trying to light sticks with a
glowworm are advised by a popin
jay who receives little thanks for
her advice 181-184
[B 93, D 86 n. 8. Plls. Luther,
Fabel Hans, 530. The glowworm
appears first in Arabic, the original
having guncha berries. J
(6) A magpie tells her master all his
wife's misdemeanours ; the wife
causes the pye to believe there is
a storm when it is clear : he is
henceforth not credited, and finally
killed 185-190
[B 95, D 89 n. 6. Not in Arabic
L, but in Latin I., in same position
as in Panchatantra. Plls. In the
Sindibad cycle in all its offshoots.
Gest. Rom. (ed. Graesse, II., 185) ;
loot Nights (Weil., I., 70). Cf.
Keller, cxxxiv. ; Deslongchamps, 99
n. i ; Boccacio, vii. 9. Other plls.
by Crane, Ital. Folk Tales, 167-183,
and notes 358-360; Clouston, Pop.
Tales, II. 196-211.]
(7) Two find a treasure and hide it
in a tree. One steals it, and, on
a trial ensuing, induces his father
to get inside the tree and accuse
the other. The judge orders fire
Ixxviii CONTENTS.
PAGE
to be set to the tree and the fraud
is discovered .... 190-202
[B 96, D 90 n. 4. Pits. Ddices
de Verboquet (1623), p. 41.]
(;a) A bird having its young destroyed
by a snake that has its hole near,
entices thither an enemy of the
snake, which is destroyed and
the bird too 198-199
[ 97> D 9 2 n. i. PH. Here Dg. Gf.
Deslongchamps, 42 n. i. In original
the enemy is an ichneumon.]
(8) A merchant returning after a long
absence finds a lad in his house,
whom his wife avers the snow
has begotten, witness his name
" White." The merchant takes the
boy for a walk and declares the
sun has melted him . . . 203-206
[Not in the Bidpai cycle but from
Italian novels. Cf. Dunlop-Liebrecht,
296, B 99, ad fin.}
(9) A merchant leaves iron with a friend
who afterwards alleges that the
rats have eaten it ; the merchant,
pretending to believe, shortly
after hides away his friend's son
and alleges a chicken has carried
it off. The friend confesses, makes
restoration, and receives his boy
again ...... 207-212
[B 101, D 97 n. i. Plls. uka-
saptati, 38 = Tutinameh (Rosen, I., 67 ;
CONTENTS. Ixxix
PAGE
Iken, III., 25); Cardonne, M6L de
lit. orient, II., 63 ; 1001 Nights (Prenz-
lau, xi. 259-262). Cf. Deslong-
champs, 43 n. 2; Crane, I. c., 353
B.4.]
(10) A woman sent to the apothecary
by her husband whiles away her
time with him while the assistant
changes the drugs for dust. On
her return the wife declares she
dropped her money in the dust
and brought it home in the hope
of recovering some of the coins . 213-214
[B99,I>95. Cf. 94 n. 4. Plls.
From the Sindibad cycle (and off
shoots) ; introduced first in Latin I.
(or Hebrew). Qukasaptati, 32 ; 1001
Nights, xv. 177 ; Tutinameh, xxv.
Cf. Keller, Romans, cxliv.]
F. FOURTH PART 216-257
[The "Moyle " (Dimna) being suspected
by the lion, is imprisoned, and having made
an elaborate defence contained in this part,
is executed. This was inserted in Arabic
of Abdullah ibn Almokaffa, and only ap
pears in its offshoots. B 109-112. The
stories differ much in Pers. II.]
(i) A painter loved a joiner's wife and
visited her in a certain mantle, a
servant borrows the mantle and
visits her in his stead . . . 229-232
[B in, D 108 n. 2. Plls. Bahar
Danush, II., 293 ; Le Grand d'Aussy,
IY., 121 ; Boccaccio, III., 2. Cf.
Deslongchamps, 44 n. i.]
Ixxx CONTENTS.
PAGE
(2) An ignorant physician gives arsenic
to a princess and is killed . . 242-245
[B in, D 119. Plls. Probably
fromPhaed., L, 16.]
(3) A man and his two daughters being
captured and stripped, in trying
to hide their nakedness, he un
covers himself .... 248-249
[B in, D 122 n. 4. In Heb. I.
the two women are the man's wives.]
(4) A servant tries to slander his mis
tress by teaching a parrot to tell
lies of her in a strange tongue,
but a sparrow-hawk miraculously
exposes him .... 252-255
[B in, D 130. Plls. Here E 6.
The three birds are a misunderstand
ing by the Germ, of the Latin, "cepit
duos pullos psittaci et papagilli,"=
"und fieng zwen sittikus und ein
papagai." Of. D, I. c.]
PEDIGREE OF THE B
BUDDHIST BIBTH-STOBIBS.
Jataka (lost).
Pali about 250 B.C.
Cingalese (lost).
I
Pali, 550 A.D.
Jataka Atthavannana,
ed. Fausboll, 1877-79.
^ SANSCRI
KABATAKA
Pehlevi, or Old Pers., Aral
by Barzoye (lost), by a Jd
570 A.D. ed. Gv
Ital..
1
|
4 Cingalese,
Eng. pt.
1320, 1415,
(Fausboll,
1610, 1780.
1871 ;
!
Rhys-Davids,
Eng., verse
1880 ;
pt. Steele
R. Morris,
(1871).
1885-87).
Heb. pt.,
1878.
Syriac I., 570, ARABIC I., c. 750,
Kalilag wa Damnag, by Abdullah al-Mokaffa
ed. Bickell, 1874. (ed. pt., Schultens, 1786,
I Noldeke, 1879, the whole
German by S. de Sacy, 1816, and
(Bickell, 1874). 6 other edns., 1834-1882),
Kalilah wa Dimnah.
Te
ed.
Pers. verse, 2 Arab, verse (lost).
by Rudegi, 914 (i) Jachja ibn Jaffar,
(lost). the Barmecide ;
(2) Abd al-Mamun.
Fr. Dubois
(2 edns,
Peis. (MS.)
Hindustani,
1803.
loth cent.)
ht, 1884).
by
reefc I.
S. Seth, 1080.
Ethio]
(lost)
jic
.
Persian
by Nasrul!
I.
ah,
Malay
(MS.)
Ibe
by
Eng. (Keith-Fal
coner, 1885).
tTTjs Ka
tark, 1697,
(ed. Stark, 1697, 2nd
1851, Proleg. ed. Aurivallius,
1780, Puntoni, 1884).
1 121 (MS.)
Pers. II., 1500-
Anwari Suhaili
(4 eds. 1804-1851).
Latin
(Possinus, 1666,
Stark, 1697).
Germ.
(Lehmus, 1778).
Italian,
Del governo
de regni
(3 eds., 1583-
1872).
Old Slavonic Croat
(ed. BulgarofF, (ed. 1870).
1877).
French,
(Derenbourg
Pers. III. 1587, Dakhni, 1824, French, 1698, pt.
byAbulFadl, (M. Ibraheem). _ David Sahid,
lyar-i-Danish
(MS.)
I
Turkish, c. 1500.
Humayun Namah
(Ali Chelebi, ed.
1836).
Fables de Filpay.
(5 edns).
2 Eng.
Eastwick, 1854,
Wollaston, 1877.
Urdu, 1815
(ed. Roebuck).
Eng., 1861
(T. P. Manuel).
Fr., 1724, pt., by Galland and Cardonne,
Swed. I.
Wilde,
Eng., 1699
(J. Harris, 9 edns.),
1699-1886.
2 Germ.,
1802, 1803.
Geri
Buch t
(21 edn;
Czech, 1846
(F. Trebowsky).
3ontes de Bidpai (3 edns.)
I
Span., 1654-58, by V. Bratuti,
Espejo politico.
Greek, 1783. Swed. 1762. Hungarian, 1783. Polish, 1819. Dutch.
IDPAI LITERATURE.
f I., abt. 300 A. D.
a DAMANAKA (lost).
1
II ? Tibetan, pt., Sanskt.
w, 750. ed. Schiefner, 1875. Panchs
fHi, 1873. 1 ( 2 edns., i
II., pt., Chinese, pt.,
itantra, Avadanas.
848, 1868). |
French, 1859
(Julien).
'(Guidi). Germ. Latin
(Schiefner). (Schiefncr).
Eng. 1886
(Ralston).
II /
ugu, Tamil, /
1848. by Somasamna .'
(2 edns. 1826-28). \
\ 1 ! 1
\ 2 Germ. Fr. Greek,
'v (Benfey, 18^9, (Lancereau, [(Galanos,
^ Fritze, 1884). 1871). 1851).
t Sansk. Katha-sarit-sagara,
by Somadeva (i2th cent.).
\ \ Sansk. Hitopadesa
Malay Eng. 1873 (n edns., 1804-68)
). (Alkabir, (E. Winford).
1871).
Germ., pt. Eng.
(Brockhaus, 1853). (Tawney, 1881).
lee Mahratta Brij Hindi, pt., 4 Germ.
; s., (2 edns., Barha 1851. 1844-74.
4). 1805-15). (2 ed.,
1809-12).
2 Fr. 5 Eng. (Wilkins, 1797, 1885 ; Greek.
Sir W. Jones, 1799 ; Johnson, 1851.
1848 ; M. Miiller, 1864 ; Sir
E. Arnold, 1861).
jj re , IV I. Hebrew 11. Span. I., 1252, Latin
R i j'oel, by R. Eleasar, Calyla 6 Dymna verse, K
j 2 ^ ho. b. Jacob, 1283. (ed. Gayangos, Baldo,
Ill 1
Eng. Fr.pt., 2 Germ Armenian,
natchbull, (Pihan, (Holmboe, 1832. pt.,
1818). 1866). Wolff, 1837, X 3 th cent -
2 eds.) Vartan.
Fr. 1676.
ed. Derenbourg, | alter
1881. Latin, c. 1300. (MS)
Raymond (MS.)
x ] LATIN I.', by John of ed. pt. E. du Meril,
r Capua, 1270. l8 S4-
2 ifcrectormmjvite humane
/, ;d. 1483 ; Puntoni, 1884 ;
Derenbourg, 1887).
,'nl.. i 483, v Spanish II.,
I
Czech, c. 1450,
by N. Conac,
Frawidlo lidskoho ziwota.
',., 148 3-i86o). (10 edns. fi. 1493).
2 Danish Ital. I., 1548, by Firenzuola, > Ital. II., 1552, by Doni,
(1618.) Discorsi (3 edns.) La Moral Philosophia (3 edns.)
French, 1556 Fr., 1577. EltgltSb I., i57> by T. NORTH,
(Cottier). (De la Rivey, The Morall Philosophic of Doni
2 edns.) (3 edns., 1570, 1601, 1888).
flDorall febtlosopbfe of 2>on(.
Derail jpfitfosopfne of
SDratone out of tje atmcient
& fcrorke first compiled in tfje Indian tongue,
antJ aftertoatljes tctiuceti into tJt&ers otfjet
languages : anti noirr lastlg
out of Italian ig 2EJoma0
Brotfjer to tfje
Sir Eoger Jiortfj Itnfg^t,
3Lorlre i^ortj of
WISDOMS OF THIS WORLDS
IS FOLLY BEFORE GOD.
IMPRINTED AT LONDON
BY HENRY DENHAM.
1570.
TO THE READER.
TTE that beginneth not to reade
thys Booke fro the beginning
to the ende and that aduifedly fol-
loweth not the order he findeth writ
ten, fhall neuer profite anything there
by. But reading it through, and oft,
aduiling what he readeth, hee fhall
finde a marveylous benefite thereof.
The ftories, fables, and tales, are very
pleafaunt and compendious. More
over the fimilitudes and comparifons
doe (as they faye) holde hands one
with the other, they are fo linked
togithers,
6 TO THE READER.
togithers, one ftill depending of an
other : which if you feuer, defirous to
reade any tale or ftorie by it felfe,
not comparing the Antecedent with
the Sequele : befides that, you fhall
be fare from the vnderflandinge of
the matter, you fhall thinke them
ryding tales fpoken to no purpofe,
but to occupie your cares, and con-
fume time. Therefore follow I fay
this order giuen you and receyue to
you the fruites of my poore
traueyle and of your
painefull reading.
FAREWELL.
AL LETTORE. G. B.
// Doni, che colfuo leggiadro Jlile
Augelli, e muti pefci. Armenti, e
fiere.
Fa ragionar d'Imprefa alta, & humile.
E fotto ilfalfo afconde cofe vere.
Non penfb mai, che la ricca Anglia, e
Thyle
Sapeffero di luj, ne che in tal fchiere
Venijfero le Nimfe a mezzo Aprile
In freddo Clima a fiori, e frutti
hauere.
II Northo^, che colfuo fud lime Ingegno
Fa queftoy et alia bella Italia dona
Nelfuopaefe, conf^la lingua, Jlanza.
E
8 AL LETTORE.
E Perciby il Doni. Dona a luj per
pegno
Se ifteffb, et dice. Se gia maiperfona
M' Interpret^ Northo^ quelche hor
m auanza.
T. N. TO THE READER.
Of wordes and of examples is a fundrie fort
of fpeache
One felfe fame thing to mindes of men in fun
drie wife they teache.
Wordes teache but thofe that vnderftande the
language that they heare :
But things, to men of fundrie fpeache, examples
make appeare.
So larger is the fpeache of beafts, though mens
more certaine bee :
But yet fo larger as conceyte is able them to fee.
Such largeneife yet at length to bring to cer
taine vfe and plane,
God gaue fuch grace to beafts, that they mould
Indian fpeach attaine.
And then they learnde Italian tongue, and now
at length they can,
By help of NORTH, fpeake Englifh well to euery
Englifh man.
In Englifh now they teache vs wit. In Englifh
now they faye,
Ye
io T. N. TO THE READER.
Ye men, come learne of beafts to liue, to rule,
and to obaye,
To guide you wifely in the worlde, to know to
fhunne deceite,
To flie the crooked paths of guile, to keepe
your doings ftreight.
As earft therefore you vfed beafts, but for your
bodies neede,
Sometime to clothe, fometime to beare, fome-
time your felues to feede.
Now vfe them for behoofe of minde, and for
your foules delite,
And wifhe him well that taught them fo to
fpeake and fo to write.
E. C. TO THE READER.
If care to fhowe, good will to natiue Ibyle,
In fetting forth, a worke of great auayle :
If how to fhunne, the vaine & reftleffe toyle,
Wherein we wade, for things that foone doe
fayle.
If graue aduice, bewraydde in fimple fhowe,
Forwarning ftill, the trayne of guilefull waye :
If Wifedomes lore, the good from yll to knowe,
And by the fame, our brittle Hues to ftaye.
If this and more, yea more an hundred folde,
Lies open nowe, vnto thy happie gaine :
If thefe I faye, worth more than maffe of golde
Doe well deferue, by him that tooke this paine
Good Reader than, graunt this my iuft delire,
In thankfull fort, receyue this learned Booke :
For his rewarde, he feekes no further hire,
But good report, when thou herein malt looke.
His paines were great, thy gift thus waye but
fmall
Yet be content, and thinkes he reapeth all.
The Philofophie of the wife
auncient Fathers.
& OTorfce first compiled in tjje Indian
tongue, and aftervvardes transfer
red into Sifters antf sunorie otfjer Ian=
guages : as the Perfian, Arabian,
Helrue, Latine, Spanijh, and
Italian : and now reduced
into our vulgar
fpeeche.
THE PROLOGUE.
&!jis precious Jefoell (beloueti Header) fcias
first fountie torftten in t^e Indian tongue, en*
tituletj Morall Wifdome : anti fcras tljence con^
uegeti into Perfia, antJ inas coateti initfj tfjeir
language, naming it IrritJ tjjem The example of
good lyfe: antl from t^e Perfian speed) a long
time after bg tje auncient Jatjers (tjeg ftnotoing
tje Inontierfull tJoctrine thereof) fcrougjt into tfje
natgue Arabian anti from t!jat translated into
Hebrue
14 THE PROLOGUE.
Hebrue bg loel gran Rabi a 3efoe; at lengtfj
rebuceb into Latine : ano passing tjroug!) mang
languages became a Spaniard, foitfj tfje title of
Exemplario : anb SO fn time brought t0 Venice,
anb tljere put into Italian bg a compang of
Gentlemen associateb togitjjers, cntitultng tjjeir
jJelo&JSljip Academia Peregrina : anb nofca lastlg
out of Italian maoe Vulgar to us, TOijat jiglj
ooctrine is eontegneo in tfjgs Boofte, tje oiligent
ano rurious searclje for t!je same of so manu
toise ana famous men ano of so sunorge nations
cotjj iwitnesse, If therefore gou oesire tlje oncer*
stanoing of i^ogall SHtsoome, spirituall ooctrine,
ano infinite instructions ano examples for man
to liue foell: reaoe I sag tjis goloen Uolume
.Surelg reaoer, tjjis fcooke stjall be a looking
glasse for tfjee, tojerin tljou s^alt most liuelg
bcjjoloe tfje oaglie ano present oaungers ano
oecegtes of mans mast miserable Igfe, ano tjje
eges of tfjg onoerstanoing sjall be maoe open
to oescerne tt)e flatteries of biscegtfull men, ano
tjje inisoome of tjjis most guileful toorloe: bg
meanes inljereof gee mag easilge blotte out mang
malignant effects of tfjis (alas) our ccoofeeo age.
&fyz stole is familier ano pleasaunt, ano fogll
mucij ocligjjt tjjee* Jcr tlje first anb olbe &ut{jors
Jereof
THE PROLOGUE. 15
fjereof forote it fcoufctlesse foitjj great iutogement,
trasnetJ thereto foitfj a feruent fcesire tfjat tfjeir
fcoctrine sfjouloe not cralg remagne in perpetuitie
for etier, font tfjat it sjjoulfce also fie imprinted in
tfje heaters mtntie, assuring tjemselues it sjjflultje
profite all, antJ tiislglte none* Jor it mage in
tnaner he calleti an artificiall tnentorie, to benefite
tjemselues at all times antj seasons, antJ in all
argumentes, initj euerge perticular t^ing tjjese
irrise anti graue mm jaue inuenteti, sfjafcofoeti
tnift tales antJ parables, ano togtfj tje examples
of brnte antr tiumme beastes.
The Sages of auncient nations (expert in all
the Sciences) difrous to pulli/he to thofe that
came after them their great knowledge and wife-
dome, euen with a determinate minde and counfell
premeditate decreed to fet foorth a peece of
woorke, adapted with diuers Jimilitudes andfun-
drie comparifons of vnreafonalle leafts and birds,
ly which they might greatly leautifie their doc
trine, and this they did for diuers refpeftes.
Firft, to give occafion that their wifedome and
learning Jhould be knowne to the worlde. Secondly,
that men of iudgement and difcretion reading the
fame might reape the benejite of their rules to
dirett this fraile lyfe. Thirdlye, that hee that
vnderftandeth
16 THE PROLOGUE.
vnderftandeth thefe examples, knowing little,
Jhoulde ly them knowe much. And fourthly,
and loft of all, if he were yong, and had fmall
delight to reade much : yet he may with a Jhort
and pleafant waye le inftru6led with thefe de
lightful fayninges, and with thofe fimilitudes and
examples tafte the fweetnejfe of the wordes, the
pleafure ofthefentences, accompanied with proper
tales : and fo (Gentle Reader) profile himfelfe,
and teache others. In this their treatife fuck
wife Fathers have hidden from vs woonderfull
Jignifications. For a treafure vndoultedly of fo
high a myfterye and doctrine as this is to le
more efteemed than all the Jewelles in the worlde.
This precious lemme of knowledge, who fo Jhall
lodge it in thefecrefie of his memorie, Jhall neuer
lofe it, lut Jhall rather augment and increafe it
with age in fuch fort, that hee Jhall winne a
marueylous commodotie to him: and of that
plant Jhall tafte the fauorie, pleafant, and pro
fitable fruites, no leffe wonderfull than delect
able. To reade fuch a Booke (worthy Reader)
thou muft call thy wittes togither vniting them
and thy vnderftanding with the due order of the
woorke, to knowe why, and to what purpofe the
olde prudent Fathers framed it : leaft thou le
lyke
THE PROLOGUE. 17
lyke to the llinde man, that wanting his fight,
taketh vpon him to go ouer Mountaynes, Hilles,
and Dales, through moft daungerous and perill-
ous wayes. He therefore that doth reade muft
vnderftand what he readeth, and why he readeth
it : and not to le fo defirous to come to the ende,
that he marke not the beginning, and forget the
fenfe (full of knowledge) lincked with the middejl
and end. For he that readeth fo, readeth without
fruite, and rather troulleth the minde, and weari-
eth his lody than otherwife, not forcing the lene-
Jite and knowledge of the truth. Folow therefore
thefe graue precepts and ruled order, and let no
vaine thoughts pojfejje your mindes to withdraw
you from reading it. For to Jinde fo riche a
treafure, and not to know how to take and laye it
vp : is rightly tofolow him, that finding a Majfe
of Golde and Siluer, had not the wyt to take it,
and cary it away.
Of a Hufbandeman, and of the treafure
he founde.
& f^tisbanoeman of Perfia going one fcage to
fjfs lanoe, fcg cjjaunce stumbleb of a mar*
treasure, fjmoinge store of pottes of
(Stone
1 8 THE PROLOGUE.
Cogne, of (Scoloe, ano &iluer: ano fooonoering
at fygs great fortune, began to tfyink to looe tym*
selfe, ano to beare it jome. But seeing tf)e
summes so great tfjat scant tinentte men couloe
carte it atoage, it greeuetJ jim mucji tfjat fyt
alone couloe not conueg it, ano tjus i)ee sagoe
to fjunselfe. Hf 31 leaue it ijere, it is in oaunger
to &e tanen from mee, ano to fcratdj it oaglte,
it inoulo to mucj trouble mee: fcesices, tljat
tjjat 31 couloe take toitfj me, fooulo ooe mee but
small pleasure. TOdl, fjap tojat jjap toill, 3E
toil!
THE PROLOGUE. 19
foili go fetdj compang to {jelpe me jjome imtfjall,
anb tfjeg sjjall beare tjje burben, IE toilt onelg
pag tfjem, antJ take mine ease, tusfj 31 fjaue at
foill to content tfjem : anb tjjus in one tag 31
come jjome anb finbe mg Cofers fillet( OTitjj
minoe resolueti fortfj jje uoetjj anti callet^
men togitjjers, irfnging tjem toitj !)im to tjt's
ffiroioen masse of cogne, tojjere fje gfuetj eclje
man !jis buroen, anb bgbtJetlj tl)em ijge tjjem to
i)is jjouse* 5TJese bearers noin bepartfng foritfj
tljeir burbens, otiercome toitji tiesire of tje moneg,
ano greebg of tfjfs prate, m steatoe of going to
tlje fjouse of t^fs foolisfte anb fcnluckte man, tjjeg
iuent euerg one to fjis oirrne {jouse, &fje jusbanb*
man after tfjefr beparture commetfj legsurelg Jome
initjjout ang burben, Igke a man of foeltfj, as
one tjat tfjoug})t {jimselfe a 3Lorbe at fjome,
toeenmg to jane founbe jts ricfjesse tjjere. But
tofjen je inas entereb Jts jouse, anb fj*arbe no^
tfjing of tfje goobes nor bearers : tfjen all to late
ije fcnefo Jis lack anb follg, commenbing tfjeir
iubgements tfjat tuitfj tfje burben of tjeire sjoulbers
Jab mabe tfjemselues ricfje, 5o tjjat for trea
sure {je eniogeb soroiue* JFor jee tjat migljt
{jaue beene ILarbe of all, bfscreetlg gouernmg tjjat
6ap Jab lagbe on Jim, beserueblg
bought
20 THE PROLOGUE.
tfje price of 6gs follg, abjrtJing tje fritter
smart of pouertie antj mfeerie.
difcrete Reader that Jhall looke in this
Booke muft giue attentiue eare, and note eche
thing perticulerly he readeth, diligently marking
thefecret leffbns. For alwayes the worke of thefe
fage Fathers carieth two fenfes withall. The
Jirft, knowne and manifeft. The fecond, hidden
and fecret. Of the Jirft we fwetely enio^jjie
tafte : luj of the fecond we receyue fmall know
ledge, if we deeply ponder not the wordes. And
hereof we may take enfample of the $ut, which
giueth no maner of tafte to man if he doe riot Jirft
Ireake and open the Jhell, and then comen to the
wyjhed kernell, he leginneth to tafte the fauor
thereof, and to reape the fruit of fa excellent a
do6lrine. Let us not doe therefore as the vndif-
crete and Jimple man that had a dejire to feeme
learned, and to lee counted aloquent in fpeach as
youjhali heare.
Of the fimple ignorant man delirous to
feeme learned.
n a time one earnestlg fcesougfjt a Poet anb
an mellent 2Bl!jetorictan ({jig berg frientie) to giue
THE PROLOGUE. 21
fjim something foritten tfjat migjjt be learneti anfo
eloquent, fofjicfj feonning fcritfjout boofce Ije migljt
recite at pleasure in tfje compange of fcrise men,
tfjat Je migfjt at least seeme no lesse learnefo
tfjan tjeg, J^fs ftienbe consented, antj performeti
jis tiesire, anfc gaue jim in a Written boofee (faire
bountie anti IgmnetJ initj goltim letters) mang
goatilg sentences, so tjat !je began to learn bg
rote j)is Written autjj0rities, antj labarinfl nigjjt
antJ tiage to commit tfjem to memorie, i)e
minetJ to s{join tjat je in as also learned
being one fcage in argument, not bntJerstantrirtg
t^e signification of tje fooros fje Jao Icarneo, for
tjjat tjjeg toerc not in jis otone tongue, ijee began
to alleaoge tljcm quite from tjje purpose : & being
taken fcrit{j tje maner tfjeg lafrrgfjeo ^im to scorne,
?^ee being angrge at tfje matter, Igke an obstinate
anti ignorant foole, aunsineretJ, TOJat? tjinke
gau I am tJeceguetJ, tjat fjabe learneti tfjat 3E
alleatige out of tfje booke of a fcroortfjie learnetj
man, gea, anti tfje letters Igmneb iuitfj goloe to ?
at fcjfjicj forties tfjeg laugjjeti jim more to scorne
tfjan before to see fjis ignorance.
Every man therefore muft endeuor himfelfe to
vnderftand that he readeth, and vnderftanding it
well, he muft diligently olferue that do6lnne,
marking
22 THE PROLOGUE.
! marking to what end and gurpofe that was
written that he hath red, to profit thereby at any
i time. I knowe there will le wife men that will
' leleue they can faye and doe more wonders than
this commeth to : yet for all that, the more we
reade, the more we knowe, and the quicker is our
vnderftanding, lejides., there is olteined euen pro-
fotttide knowledge. Learning "tiringeth with it a
great priuiledge ; forly that men are exalied-^and
to a man of knowledge and vnderftanding it giitbth
life. But to him that hath iudgement and Vnder
ftanding, and that gouerneth not himfelfe and his
aSiions according to the prefcriled rule of reafon :
His knowledge I fay dyeth within him without
fruit. As ly reading this example folowing you
may ea/ilye perceiue.
A comparifon of the ilouthfull man
for the Reader.
fjonest man ZgmjDf in fjfe ftetitie Jeartie a
going ftp an& toiwne in Jjfe jouse: antr
to page fjim jome (to take tfje more
atjuantage of !jim) suffered Jim to tafee !)i0
pleasure antu losing, tjat fjaning in teetJe jis
paeke at Jig tofce, Je migjt euen tfjen as Je
tjougfjt
THE PROLOGUE. 23
tijougfjt take fjim font!) tfje maner, anb iustlg
refoarb Jim foritfj tjje sfoorbes point as je listeb.
3Efjus befcating fcritfj fjimselfe, imagining to exe
cute Jjis purpose, (tfje (Efjeefe occupging all tfjis
fofjile fjim selfe taking injiat {je tooulte) ti&ig
gielge gooti man fell a sleepe agatne, antr tfje
2TJeefe tott|[ jis faroell of fte fiest things foritfj-
out ang let at all qutetlg oepartet!) Jts toage*
8Ef)i0 man iujen Je atoakeo ano saine fits Jjouse
nafeeo, jjg cft^stes emptge anti broken open,
fcitterlg sig^eo anb lamenteb, cursing {jfmselfe
antJ blamino; fjits follg : constbering Jee mfnjfjt
easilg Jaue saueb all tjat jje irras robfteb of
(since !je feneiu it anb Jearb t!je nogse) anb for
6 erg slotjj iuoulbe not once rise anb befenb it,
fjauino; as it foere tfje tjeefe in fjis Janbes.
iotnofelebge therefore is aptlg compareb to a tree,
fojose fruite are tje toorks ; anb t jis fcnofolebge
is tfjat iwe al ougl)t to besire, anb to exercise
ourselues in. TOere it not a mab part to leaue
tlje fcrobe taten fjie bag, anb to take tfye un=
Itnoinne anb baungerous patje? ISuen so it
mag be sagbe of jjim to{jic!j follotoetfj fjis oinne
appetite anb lifting, gouerning ^imselfe tfjerebg,
(anb not as Je ougfjt toitjf reason anb goob
orber,) leauing to tjese toorlblge experiences,
24 THE PROLOGUE.
fojjitf) euer fcesiretfj tfjat tjat is profitable, 6ut
follofo alfoages in beetle things tfjat are Jjtirt*
ML & man of sue!} life antr gouernement foe
mag compare to Jim tjjat fcnofoet!) gooto meates
ligfjt of digestion, antr tjje grosse ill an0 fteawe :
get ouereome toitji te0ire taketfj t&at tjat is
most Jurtfttll, antr so fteing {jurt, {jim selfe
alone is tije cause of all jjis $(.
Even fuck a man is he whome qffe6iionfuldueth.
He vnderftandeth and is learned, and able to
difcerne troth from falfehoode, and yet will not put
in proofe the true profit, nor once fellow and
difire knowledge and wifedome. We might bring
this man in the example of him that hauing his
light good and perfite, Jhutting his eyes would
needes le ledde ly a llinde man,fo that loth they
falling into a diche were drowned, and miferally
died. Every man will condeme him for a foole,
and worfe than mad, that hauing his Jight good
and without llemijhe, that might haue feene the
daunger and fcaped it, and of mere foolifhnejfe
would not. Therefore euerie wife and difcrete
perfon muft continually labour to reade, and to
vnderftande that he readeth, and muft then teache
it to as many as dejlre to knowe it, and to doe the
good workes of the knowledge he teacheth, that
euery
THE PROLOGUE. 25
euery way he may Jhowe the wonderful profit of
his doctrine : for in this cafe he may not le like
vnlo a Well or Spring, which without any profit
to it felfe quencheth the thirfte of all leafts.
The wife man is afterwardes lounde (when he is
growne to the perfection of learning) to teech and
inftru6l thofe that knowe not. Provided euer that
he can mafter himfelfe, and fuldue his affections.
For to a wife man three things are pertinent : to
wit, Knowledge, Richeffe, and Mercie. And of
all t hinges a man muft chiejly beware ofreprouing
his neighbour of that fault he himfelfe is guiltie
off. That he I e not likened to him which hauing
a Perle in his eie found fault with the element that
it was alway cloudie, not confidering the llemijh of
his eie. Yet greater doultleffe is our offence when
with our neighbours hurt or detriment we winne
commodotie to ourfelues. As falleth out many
times, which this example following Jheweth vs.
The deceyt lighteth on the
deceyuers necke.
frientig {jauing a great mount of come in
a Earner fcnfceuioetJ, tfjejj fel to parting it, leaning
to edje {jis portion apart ({joiuijeit bot^ in one
Earner
26 THE PROLOGUE.
(Srarncr still) so tfyat tfjeg u to twt roe t0
cgtljer jjeape. 33ut fricause in beebe tlje one ijeape
fcras greater tfjan tfje otfjer, jjee tofncfj imb tfje
lesser tfjougjjt t0 steale tfje digger, antr 00 Jjg
foecn't t0 lie reuengetr 0f jjmttme tfjat fjatr allotteti
^im tlje least part 5Ep0n tjis je irrent t0 tfje
Earner foetermmma; t0 steale it tjat ni$)t, antJ
itcause Je to0ult( not mtsse 0f jis purpose in
taking t{je 0ne for tfje otfjer, Je cast Jis ckrtte ouer
!)ts fellotoes fjeape fceing tfte greater, tfjat ije nttgljt
tfje eastlter Itnotoe Ijis otone in t^e tiarfee being
bncouereti. $ot long after eame to tfje Cramer
also t^e otfjer ftonest partener to looke to {jts
jeape, ^ to see fjfjs tieuioelr part : antf fo!)en Je
satoe t!je loue of jis partener to fyim (supposing
stmplg Je fjati cotrereti fjis Jeape of eorne for goofo
foill ije bare Jim, tfjat it sljouloe receiue no "oust)
as one tjat tooulo not be tl)oug!)t bnt^antoll, nor
come fteljfn&e ijis felloiw in curtesie, tjus {je sagtie
to Jim selfe. J) tfjis man is to Jtintie to mee,
tfjat to eouer mine leauetj jis otone jeap bare,
^nb so taking tfje (fTIoke off fjis fjeape cast it on
t|je others, anb couereb it as Jjfe Inas, requiting
Jis curtesie initfj like goob Jnt'll, little suspecting
tfje intenbeb becegte, but ratfjer reputeb jjis frienbe
ciuile anb full of numanitie. &t nigjjt Jis false
frienbe
THE PROLOGUE. 27
frientre counselled tot'tfj a tjjeefe anfc tofte fjim f)is
intmte, saving : if tljou toilt goe toil}) me tljis nig!)t
31 toill bring tfjee to a place tojere toe sljatt {jaue
a gooto fcootie of Come as mucf) as toe can footfj carte
atoag toitfj fcs, ^Inti tfjus tfjeg agreelj togifters
tijereupon, tjeg toent ftotfj to tfte ffirarner tofjere
tljose ttoo fjeaps of Corne lage, ano tjts partener
tjje tjjeefe groping in t!je fcarke to fintie tjie Jeape
fjis Clofee lage on, lading jjanbes of {jis Cloke (su^
posing fje Jao met toitjf ftis fellotoes Jeape) Jee
gaue ft in prage to t{je tjeefe je jati tottgljt tottj
ijim, laiourmge 6ot|[ to loatre tljemselues, anb so
bettoeene tljem tfjeg conuegeti t!je tofjole Jeape : antf
toeenmg tjjcg ijat< stollen from t!je ot^er fionest
man, fcmnDe at lengtj ^e toas tjeefe to jimselfe*
Elje neit morning berg earelg tje ttoo companions
(according to appointment) toent togitfjers to fte
Earner to carfe atoag eclje otf)er {jis portion as it
toas omioetf ftettoeene tjem. ^IntJ fje tfjat Jatr
tione tfjis feate, seeing jjis partener's part tofjole
ana nntoncljeu, ano jjfs otone gone ; like a man
fjalfe oeaoe for sorroto Je Jeauilg oeparteo tjence
to jis Jouse, anb not a toortie fje spake, ftetoagling
ano lamenting jis toretcfjeo pretenceo craft, not
baring once to open tfte tfjeft to jis frientie, tojo so
mttrfj oio trust ijim.
28 THE PROLOGUE.
No man therefore Jhould deale fo foolijhly in
thinges that haue no certaine ende, and that are
hard to bring to paffe : leaft that wearied with
Superfluous labor, he cannot afterwardes exercife
I him felfe in thinges certaine and needfull. All
our workes and deedes ought rather to tende to
profit vs in time to come, then to ferue the time
prefent. For if we abandon and forfake the in-
fatialle and infinite dejlre we haue of this wretched
worlde, doubtleffe in the other worlde to come we
(hall feele no paine. For who that ferueth God
deuoutly and with pure confcience, and that
dejireth riches only to fupplie nece/Jitie, and to
doe good workes : him God doth profper and guide
in all his wayes. And let no man difpaire though
he be vifited with ill hap fome time, doing^ well
notwithftanding. For God manye times fendeth
his llejjing and increafe vnwares to man, and in
an houre vnlooked for, which he neuer thought
would happen. And heare in wkat manner.
The good and uertuous ihould neuer
difpaire in aduerfitie.
&fjere tifoellefc in a certaine Citie a man of
tjlg life antJ fctepogition, fo{)0 fallen into eitreeme
pouertie
THE PROLOGUE. 29
pouettie, being asjameb toasfcefor(3robssafce,betit=
mtneb to ptooue Jig ftienbs, anb so Je bib. &nb be^
Staging Jis misetie, looking for teliefe anb pittie,
founbe notjing but Jatbnesse,neitjetfcjas tjete ang
tjat once iuoultje I00ke ijp0n tje tucessttie 0f tjat
Jonest t0ntiitf0neti man* ^[nti tjus repleate foitfj
grfefe, beieti m Jfs mfntie, Je sotroinfunse tepatretj
t0 Jts p00te mansf0n. ^Inti being lagtje at nfgjt
in Jfs feettoe t0 take Jfs test, tje angufsje 0f Jfs
mintje, t0gft!)er inttj famine, in0ultje not suffer
Jim to test fout kept Jfm inaking. ^[nt( fig cjatinee
Jeatfng a nogse about tje Jouse, Jgstening tiili-
gentlg fojat it sjoulbe be : Jee fcnefoe sttaigjt it
irras some SEJeefe (Joping of a gteat bootie) tjat
inent tjus tansacfcing ijp antJ tioiune. .So tjfs
poote man sagtie bnto Jimselfe. 5TJou Jatist
neene loofee nattofoljje, if tjou ioeene to Jaue tjat
tjou seefcest fot: <utelg 31 intll see get fojat
feates tjese tjeefes "ooe frrotfee in Jen tjeg come into
sucj places fojere tjeg fintie naugjt, 2EJe 2TJeefe
toming Jere antJ tjere, busilg seatcjing ant< gtop=
ing in euerg cotnet, founbe notjing but a little
pot foitj ilileale : anb bicause Je inoula not lose
Jgs labout, Jee betermineb to btafoe Jts stting to
ketcj tjat little motsell, anb began to poute it out
into tje lappe of Jis clofee, Jauing in tje cape
tjeteof
30 THE PROLOGUE.
tjjereof great store of Jefoelles ant reatg moneg
fcrjjicfj je jjat stolen in an otfjer Ijouse foljere fje
fjat beene* SEfje goote poore man iujieji till nofoe
iuas fojjisljt ant qufet to see tfje enoe of tlje
SEljeefe, perceguing Jjgs ^^tle discretion, jis fjart
rose against Jim, considering t^e faillange of tjus
fcjretrfj tjat inoultie not leaue fjim tjjat sielge
quantitie of iJHeale to stistatne Jim aline frritfjall :
antJ tjougjt toitjj jim selfe it inere better tiefenti
it in time to fteepe Jim from famine, tfian to targe
looking for tfje late reliefe of ty% {jarbe frienfcs.
^o in a great furie jje leapt out of jjfs betJ antJ
toofee fjim to jjis sinortr, antJ jauing tfje same
tirainne in Jgs fjan&e initfj a terrible nogse jjee
rxinnetji to tje 2Tjeefe. TOfjidjm'cause Jee inoultr
not botj lose Jis jjonestg ana life togitjer at one
instant, (leaning for fjast to saue Ijimselfe) jgs
clolte in panne iHitji tjje iileale, parting no leg=
sure to caste it on Jjis fcacfce, je inas forced to
fl|je for life ant( let all alone. &{jis {jonest poore
man tfjen at ty& pleasure poureti out tlje iEeale
out of jis clofee, ant put it againe into jjns eartfjen
potte tojere it inas before : ant tjus sago to jim=
selfe, a Ja, bg ^aint JHarie t jis geare goetjj ixrell,
IE fjaue gotten a cloke to boote bg tfje meanes, to
tefente mee from tjje colte at least, ant putting
THE PROLOGUE. 31
ijt's Jjanoe into tfje cape, jjee met fottfj peat ricfjes
anti Sefoels, antf fjapptlg ligljtefc on tfjoge gootis
fcrfjicfj fje nwer fjopetf of: toning tfjat fro Jjfs
enemi'e fig force fofjidj fjfs frienos tooulo muer
jjaue gifren {jim for loue.
//oe TZO^ like infuch a cafe to fay as the common
people doe, that God provideth lining for euery
lodie, and that he will not fee me lacke that that
Jhall le necejfarie for me, fo as Ineede not labor for
my lining, for fare it is but a foolijh phrafe and
vainefpeach. Bnt rather I will conclude, that euery
man is lound to labor to procure his lining, 9* he
may not make any fuch cafes prejldents, in which
it pleafed God to fende great riches without labor
as in this. For thefe are only the fecrets of God,
& we ought not to ajke the caufe of his diuine
goodnejje. The wife man therefore muft endeuour
himfelfe to gaine that he may, honeftly and vp-
rightly, trufting always in almightie God : that
he will profper his doings and giue him encreafe,
feeking euer to keepe him felfe out of trouble and
forowe : and not to do as the Done, which breed
ing hir Pigions about the Houfe (making them
familiar with the fame) albeit they are monthly
taken from hir and killed, yet Jhe leaueth not for
that to returne to hir olde neft and breede yong
againe
32 THE PROLOGUE.
againe, though Jhe know they Jhalle taken from
hir. We finde it written, that God hath odeined
the end and terme of all things, and that they
can not pajje. Therefore faye thefe wife men,
that he that worketh refpeffiing the worlde to come
lightneth the lurthens and trouble of this frayle
life. But he that repofeth his truft in thefe
worldly e thinges and is wrapped in the fame, doth
wafte and confume his yeares. A man ought to
labour in thefe three things, licaufe he hath neede
of them, to wit. To knowe to keepe the law, and
the goodftatutes thereof. Thefeconde, to procure
things necejfarie for mans life. And the thirde,
that his workes le pure and cleane with himfelfe
and among others. Then he muft leware and
withdrawe himfelfe from foure other mortall and
damnable. The Jirft, is to le negligent in his art
or fcience, The fecond } to contemne that the law
commandeth, The third, to credit all things lightly.
The fourth, to denie knowledge. For he that will
le reputed wife in his doings, muft Jirft confider
well what he taketh vpon him : and if he neede
counfell let him a/ke it of a faithfull friende.
When he happeneth to haue great matters in hande,
let him not goe about them rajhly, but Jirft way
the importance thereof. That he be not likened
to
THE PROLOGUE. 33
to one which being out of his waye, and going on
ftill, is the farther of the place he would go to.
And alfo compared to another, which hath but a
little hurt in his eye, and ly continuall rubbing of
it he maketh it incurable. A man muftfeare the
diuine iuftice, inclining him felfe to that that is
good, and doing that to his neighbour he woulde
haue done to him felfe, helping him in aUdaungers
as he woulde le holpen himfelfe. And to conclude
this our worke } he that meaneth to vnderftande
it, muft order his life according to the lawes
and inftitutions of Vertue : as Jhoweth
thefe wonderfull and learned ex
amples, and fententious
authorities.
THE ARGUMENT OF THE
BOOKE.
tyme there reigned in Edon
fo manye Roy all crouned Kings,
amongft the reft there was a King
called Aneftres Caftri : who chofe for
chief e of all his Courte one Berozias,
whome hee made high treaforer of all
his Realme, a man right noble in his
deedes, and rich of poffejjions ; and
him he loued and trufted fo much, that
hee put his princely e perf on and whole
affaires of his Realme into his handes.
It happened one daye there was pre-
fented to the King a Booke, in which
was
THE ARGUMENT OF THE BOOKE. 35
was written many goodly dedes and
fecrets, and among ft the heape this
was one. Howe that in India were
marueylous hie mount aims, in which
there grewe certaine fortes of herbes
and trees, which if they were knowen
and confefted afterwardes in a certaine
kinde : they Jhould drawe out of that
precious compojition fuch a remedie^
as therewith they might raife to life
again the dead. The King no fooner
read this wonder, but he burned ftraight
to knowe the troth thereof : wherefore
in hafte (as foone might bee) he dif-
patched Berozias, and bade him hie
him thither, commaunding him to fee
if he coulde finde it true. A nd bicaufe
it was a hard and painefull enter-
prife, he furni/hed him with golde and
filuer, not onely fujficient, but more
than
36 THE ARGUMENT OF THE BOOKE.
than needed, that he Jhoulde not lacke.
Then he deliuered him his letters of
recommendation to all thofe Kings of
India, praying them to further this
worthie man in his noble attempt, pur-
pofed to good ende. Berozias licenfed
nowe of the King to depart (furni/Jied
with money and letters] went into that
countrie, and arriued in India pre-
fentedjlraight to the King his maijiers
letters : by meanes whereof he was re-
ceyued of the Magiftrates as was per
tinent to the Jmbajie of fo highe a
Prince. And his mejjage deliuered \
they vnderftanding the caufe of his
comming, offered themfelues with all
the wife men they had to fauour his
enterprife, and to further it all they
could. And thus honorably accom-
paunied of all the fage and wife men,
conducing
THE ARGUMENT OF THE BOOK. 37
conducting him through all the Moun-
taynes and Countries there abouts, they
had and gathered all they found
written for the conditing of fo pre
cious an elefluarie. And all they
ioyning togithers to make this con-
fec~lion> prouing it a great while, wuld
neuer faide it to workefuch effect as to
raife any one from death to life againe.
So that they faw by proofe that all
that was written in the booke con
cerning the elec~luarie was meere falfe
and vntrue. This thing grieued much
Berozias, that heJJiould retourne to the
King Anaftres his maifter and bring
no better newes with him : howbeit con-
fulting with thefe graue and wife men
before his departure, how he might doe,
not to retourne home in vaine, there
was giuen him by a famous Philofopher
of
38 THE ARGUMENT OF THE BOOKE.
of that Region, a goodly treatife, who
ferched himfelf alfo to finde thatfecrete,
and in the ende he vnderjloode that it
was the Booke which was fo called.
And fo O graue Berozias thou Jhalt
fay vnto the King, and returne to him
with ioye.
The hilles which we ought to feeke,
are the wife and learned men. The
trees and herbes growing vpon thofe
hilles, doe betoken wifdome and learn
ing : which fprings of the vnderftand-
ing and iudgements of the learned.
The medicine or ehc~luarie condited
of thofe herbes, are the bookes full
of mojl learned writings, compofed by
the high and deepe wittes, and with
this oyle or Baulme they reuive the
deade. For with fuch knowledge the
ignorant and vnlearned are inftrufted:
whom
THE ARGUMENT OF THE BOOKE. 39
whom wee maye iujlly recken deade
and buried.
Therefore tqfling the fweetneffe (con-
tinually reading] of the dotlrine of the
fages, they receiue health and refur-
reftion. This interpretation greatly
reioyced Berozias, in fo much as hee
befought the Princes andfage men that
they would giue him but the copie of
that booke to carie to the King his
Maijler, which (although the booke
were alwayes in the handes of thofe
Kings, for that it was ful of Morall
Philofophy] was graunted him> licenj-
ing him to tranflate it out of the
Indian into the Perfean tongue^ with
the helpe and knoledge of all thofe
learned Philofophers> which was fo Jin-
gularlye done that it bare the vaunt
of all Morall Philofophie. The Booke
receiue d
40 THE ARGUMENT OF THE BOOKE.
receiued with due and infinite thankes
rendered to thofe noble Kings and
Sages for the great honor and courtejie
they had done him : Berozias departeth
home, and being come to his maifter,
prefented him the booke with relation
of his whole enter taineinent.
The King hearing fo noble an ex-
pofition, fo wife and difcreete an in
terpretation thankefully receyued the
Booke efteeming it aboue any other pre-
fent. And thencefoorth he procured
with great deligence to haue alwayes
bookes, and thofe hejludied^ di/irous of
knowledge, feeking to entertaine in his
Court wife and learned men : iudging
(as is true] that bookes and wifdome
are the greatefl treafure and delight
to man. Appointing in his Palaice
a great librarie, wherein aboue the reft
he
THE ARGUMENT OF THE BOOKE. 41
he placed this booke for cheife, being
full of examples and inftruttions for
mans life, and alfo of luftice and
the fear e of God: in praife and
honour of whom we begin this
worke, Jhewing therein
the continuall daungers
and deceits of this
miferable worlde.
The fir/I Part of the Morall Philofo-
phie of the auncient Sages, compiled
by the great and learned Philo-
fopher Sendelar,
In the Indian tongue, who by iundrie and won-
derfull examples bewrayeth the deceyts
and daungers of this pre-
fent worlde.
HEN I was come to yeares of dif-
cretion, borne of a noble houfe,
and of my Genitours put to the
ftudie of Philofophye, to learne
Phiiycke, whereof I preceded
Doctor : I knewe that thys worlde was a courfe
of a moft vehement running ftreame, but yet
appearing no perill of drowning to him that
panned it, bicaufe that harde by the banckes
fydes it was verie fhalow, and aboue it ranne
quietly, carying aboue water riches and wares
of great value to the iudgement of thofe that
beheld
44 THE FIRST PART
beheld them, by means whereof men drawne
with great couetoufnefle to have abundance,
they ranne towardes them and entred into the
riuer, partly wetting themfelves, but onely their
foote, they tooke a fewe of them. And he that
would have mo, going further in, muft of necef-
fitie wet his legge and knee, bicaufe it increafed.
And he that with furie, (pafling the reft) with
an infatiable defire would needes go further,
plunged his whole bodie in the water. And
the others trufting in their force of fwimming
ftucke in the middeft, and founde the ftreame
exceeding bigge : for in the bottome it was
moil fwift and raging, and they could not get
out of the middeft, but euen as much as they
coulde doe in fwimming to kepe them felues
aboue water. And brought to this paffe, not
finding any waye to get out, they caft of thefe
rich merchandifes to this man and to that man,
which hauinge no fkill to fwimme followed them
alongeft the banckes fides of the riuer. In the
ende weried with fwimming, not able to labor
any more for life, forfaking this merchandife
floting aboue the water, downe they finke, and
carying nothing with them, remayne drowned.
Who could in better maner defcribe our
worldly labour? Truly our infatiable defire is
fo
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 45
fo greedie to haue that it liketh and feeth, that
to be owner of that we would, we put our
felues to all manner of daungers, and intoller-
able paynes of this world. To be briefe : euery
man (little or much) wetteth himfelfe in this
raging riuer of man's life. He that wetting his
foote runneth alongeft the bancks fide of this
terrible Brooke, is a man that is oppreffed with
bondage, that enioyeth naught elfe in this world
but miferable lyfe. The other that wafheth his
legge, liueth by his labor, and commeth to take
more of the world, and to tafte the delights there
of bearing many afflictions. He that thruftes in
his whole bodie in this water, hath poflefTed the
feignorie and gouernment of the moft wicked
and hapleffe ftate of this world. O vnfpeakable
cruelty, that once patted forwards he entreth per
force into the middeft, and reacheth to this man
and to that man that he hath, keeping himfelf
alwaies in this daungerous ftate. But in the ende
overtaken by fome accident, as warre, treafon,
poyfon, or mans force, he falteth into deathes
lappe : and he that hath followed his trouble-
fome life remayneth depriued of all his goodes,
bicaufe wanting the heade, the reft of the mem
bers remain vile, filthie, and ftincking. Sure
this worldly life reprefenteth no more but the
little worlde of our bodie, which carrieth a
wonderfull
46 THE FIRST PART
wonderfull prefence : and that little breath of
ours once fpent, it is then but a fhadowe, duft
and fmoke. Thefe worldly fauours and tem-
porall goodes in the iudgement of the wife
feeme but as fnowe, which with the firft beames
of the Sunne diflblveth and commeth to no
thing. Lord, what coft do we beftow vpon our
heares and face, which when the Barber clip-
peth of, are defpifed and throwne away? A
man mould neuer truft this foolifhe life. It is
but a fire kindled on the coles, which con-
fuming it felfe giueth heate to others. The
Phifition truly that cureth the difeafe of the
bodie is a worthie fpirite of man : but he that
healeth us of our finnes is a celeftiall God.
Hee that can fhunne the water of this riuer,
which carrieth in his courfe, Pride, vaine glorie,
lafciuioufneffe, couetoufneffe, prefumption, in
firmities, and loife : may be called diuine and
not humaine. Let no man put his foote into
the water of carnall loue, neyther his legge into
the falfe waues of thefe goodes, nor wafhe his
bodie in the glorie of this malignant time,
neyther feeke continually to fwimme in the
middeft of thefe felicities : for all paffeth awaye
to oure loffe and vndoing. The rich Indian
merchaunt Softrates richly furnifhed his houfe
with fundrie forts of merchaundife with his
great
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 47
great trauell, expence of time, and money:
and hauing his houfe full ftored anew to the
toppe, he could find none that had fo much
readie money as to paye him for it all at one
time and to carie it away. Then he faide to
him felfe: If by little and little I mould
fpende it, when mall I euer make an ende ?
Life will not alwayes laft, neyther can I liue
fo long as I woulde : I knowe there can be
no ende of our miferies : and thus difpifing all
pompe and riches he forfooke the deceytfuli
life with trouble, and withdrewe him to a
better, taking vpon him another courfe. A
man ought to beleeue the true and diuine
carecte, and not mans writing: not to truft
the falfe fayings of wicked men (which con-
tinuallye liue of the fpoyle of their neighbour
beguiling them) but to his owne experience.
For who fo ealily beleeueth the words of light
perfons, falleth into a grieuous errour, to his
owne lofle and hurt, as ye mall heare reading
that that followeth.
Here you may fee how light
leliefe Iringeth damage.
Two theeues very IkilfuU in picking and open
ing lockes with ginnes (but nothing aduifed nor
forefeeing
48 THE FIRST PART
forefeeing the daunger) entered one nyght into
a knightes houfe^ no lefle wyfe than wor-
Ihipfull, and verie riche : where thefe theeues
thought to have fped themfelues for euer, that
they fhould neuer more haue needed to haue
exercifed that arte. This valiant knight awak-
eth, and hearing the noife of their feete in the
houfe, imagined (as it was) that there were
theeues : and they were euen vpon the point of
opening his chamber doore where he laye, when
he logging his wyfe awaked hir, and foftly faid
to hir, Have ye not heard the noyfe of the
theeues in the houfe that are come to robbe us ?
I would haue ye therefore afke mee flreight with
great inftance, after what fort, whence and howe
I came by all that we haue togither in the houfe.
And ye mall afke mee fo lowde that if there
were any at the chamber dore he might eafily
heare you : and I will feeme to be verie fcrupu-
lous to tell you, then fhall you bee more earneft
with mee than before to vnderftande it : at length
you mail preffe mee fo with importunacie that I
will tell it you. The Ladie his wife being
verie wife and fubtill, began in this maner to
aike hir hufbande, and thus me faide vnto him :
O deare fir, graunt mee I befeech you one
thing this night that I fo long haue defired to
knowe : to tell me how you haue done to come
by
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 49
by all thefe goodes you haue gotten togither.
So he gaue hir an anfwere at random, nothing
aunfwering hir defire. She contending with him,
and he aunfwering, in the ende as he had bene
angry he faid to hir: I can but mufe what
reafon mooues you (in God's name) to defire
to knowe my fecretes, being a thing that little
profiles you to know them, or not to know
them. Be ye contented Madame, and fet your
heart at reft: let it fuffice you to fare well, to
be richly apparelled, and to be worfhipfully
wayted vpon and ferued, although ye do not
importune me to tell you fuch a fecret. Thefe
are not thinges to be tolde, for I haue hearde
it fpoken many a time and oft, that euery
thinge hath eares : therefore many times thinges
are fpoken which are repented of the partie
afterwardes. Wherefore hold your peace, for
I cannot tell you. To this anfwere his Ladie
replied, and louingly befought him to tell hir,
fweetly entifmg him with wifely traynes in
fuch fort, that the knight wearied with hir
importunate fpeach yelded, and faid to hir:
All that we haue, and as much as is in the
houfe (but fweete hart I charge you let it
neuer come from you) is ftollen, and in deede
to be playne with you, in the nightes feafon
I ftole it from this and that mans houfe, fo
that
o
So THE FIRST PART
that I neuer gate anything trulye. His Ladie
amazed to heare that aunfwere, would not yet
beleeue it at the firft, but faide: What for
fhame, how can you euer fpeake this with
truth ! being reputed here the befl Gentleman
in this citie : and there is none in all this realme
I dare well faye that would once dare to fufpect
you for a theefe. Out a theefe, one of your
worlhip and credit? nay nay, I will neuer be
leeue it. Therefore I pray you without cere-
monie, tell mee truly that I have afked you,
or elfe I cannot be in quiet. The knight
anfwered hir and fayd : You think it per-
auenture a wonder that I haue tolde you : but
liften yet and you mail heare more. Euen from
my cradell in maner I alwaies had delight to
fteale and filch, and it liked me a life to be
amongil theues that my fingers might euer be
walking, fo fweete was the craft vnto me. And
a Mate amongft them there was that loued me
fo well, that he taught mee only a fingular
tricke, and fo rare a fecret as neuer yet was
hearde. And wote ye what it was? a fewe
wordes coniurations which I made to the Beames
of the Moone, and I ranne fodenly to embrace
them, going vpon them qucklye into euery part
where they fhone. Sometime I came downe
vpon them from a high windowe, another time
I
OF M OR ALL PHILOSOPHIE. 51
I ferued my felfe with the to get vp againe to
the top of the houfe : fo I ftaid and went on
them as I lift, and did what I would. The
Moone hearing my coniuration feauen times
fhewes me all the money and treafure that was
hidden in that houfe, where I flew thus vp
and downe vpon hir beames, by meanes where
of I tooke my choice, and had what I would,
carying it quite away with me. And thus good
wife (as I haue tolde thee) I made me riche,
and now I care for no more.
One of the two theeues (who gaue a Men-
ing eare, ftanding at the knights chamber dore)
heard all that he faide, and bare it away with
him in memorie, beleuing it was true that he
fpake, knowing this riche knight to be a man
of credit and to be beleeued, iince he was re
puted of all men to be a worthy and courteous
knight : fo that they thought themfelues happie
to haue learned fuch a wonderfull fecrete in
maner (upon his wordes) affuring themfelues in
ftiort time to be made verie rich. The chiefe
theefe apparelled like a woman got vp to the
toppe of the houfe, delirous to prove that in
deedes which he had heard in words : fo he
made his exorcifme and enchauntment, repet-
ing it feuen times, and then embracing the
beames of the Moone, his armes throwne abrode,
he
$2 THE FIRST PART
he caft himfelf on them, thinking to haue gone
from windowe to windowe, and fo hedlong he
fell to the grounde in ieopardie to breake his
necke. But the Moone for the firft time
fauored him fo that he killed not himfelfe, but
brake his legges and one of his armes as God
would haue it : fo that opprefled with paine
he cryed out alowde, lamenting his miflehap
chaunced to him, giuing to much credit to an
others wordes. And thus not able to creepe
nor goe, he pitifully lieth expecting death. The
knight leaping out of his bed ran to the crie,
and come to the place, he found this vnfor-
tunate and wretched theefe lying on the grounde
in womans apparell, and hee gaue him many a
faire wounde to lighten the paine of his broken
legges and arme, and forced him to tel what
caufe moued him to come to robbe his houfe.
Thys miferable theefe aunfwered him (fearing
leaft hee would kill him) and tolde him the
whole caufe of his comming. But yet that
that grieued him worit of all was faide hee,
that he was fuch a fool and beaft to beleeue
his words : and he befought him though he
had at leaft hurt him to much with his wordes,
(which he had dearly bought and repented
both), yet that he would vouchfafe not to hurt
him in his deedes alfo.
It
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 53
It is moft true that lightly beleirng thefe
worldly thinges hath made many a man fall
into fundrie daungers, and hedlong to plunge
himfelfe into the deepe miferies of this worlde.
Sometimes men detirmine to obey the lawe.
At another time they contemme it and fet it
at naught, following fenfuall appetite. Oft
times they beleeue the counfell of their good
friend, but very often they follow the counfell
of the flatterer. To-day we are pleafed with
true do6trine : to-morrow we folow the falfe.
In euery wit and arte there is abufe -, and who
runneth not to this riuer? and the more they
weene to gaine, the more they runne in daunger
and lofle of life and foule. Behold here is one
man pricked in his confcience, there is another
opprefled with paffion and forow, and there
neuer wanteth fome that follow the continuall
feruitude of this deceitfull life, either for goodes,
fauor, and eftimation, or elfe of their owne free
willes : and there is neuer none (or fewe at the
leaft) that in fo fhort time of life can forget
this knowne and manifeft daunger. For death
aflaulting us, we knowe not whither to retire,
and then with all our might we flie the force
of his moft piercing dart : and thus weening to
hide our felues in fure place, we hedlong runne
to our fhame and vndoing. As is manifeftly
feene
54 THE FIRST PART
feene by fundrie examples happened like to
this following.
A tale of a Louer and a
Gentilwoman.
There was in the citie where I dwelled,
harde by my houfe, a fayre yong Gentilwoman
nobly borne, the which was but euen in maner
newly maried (at leaft not long before) when
this chaunce happened. This younge fpoufe
fell in loue with a proper Gentleman, fayre
condicioned, well fpoken, and of good enter-
tainement: and fortune fo fauoured hir, that
ihee fweetly reaped the fruits of hir defire at
all times when me liked to enioye it without
let or annoy at all. But to preuent hir huf-
bandes fodein comming home at times vn-
looked for, this liuely yong wife deuifed to
worke a waye for her louers fafetie, and the
continuance of this fecond (yea moft blefled)
ioye. She caufed to be conueyed in a well
fhe had a proper vawte, which mould fafely
receyue hir yong louer leaping into the fame,
if he were by mifhap at any time diftreft with
hir hufbandes foden comming vpon them. The
hufband alfo much about that time called worke-
men to him, and in a corner of the houfe made
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 55
a great darke hole and vent (very deepe) for
the fincke of the houfe. It happened fo by
chaunce one daye that hir yong Louer was no
fooner entered into the houfe, and the gate but
newly put too, but ftraight the hulband of this
wanton wife knocked alfo at the doore. She
knowing his knocke, with heauie hart beckened
to him to hide himfelfe in the vawte that fhe
had made in the well, and this while fhee
ftoode ftill, poynting him the place and woulde
not open to hir hufbande. This yong man
flight with feare (which is euer at hand to
amaze the offender) ranne round about like a
headleffe flie, and miffing the well (as one
ftricken blinde for fodeine feare) leapt into the
deepe darke vawte feruing the iincke of the
houfe. At which inftant me had opened the
dore to hir hulband, fo as he faw the yong
man when he went into it : and then he knew
his wife had born a man more than Ihee
flioulde, and that Ihee had beguiled him, vnder-
ftanding the late opening of the doore. And
ouercome with rage and hir faulte, he fierflye
laid hands on hir, and cruellye flue both hir
and hir Louer.
To be vnaduifed, and to doe thinges raihly
which we ought not, bringeth many times death,
hurt
56 THE FIRST PART
hurt and fliame. For no man mould fo entangle
himfelfe in thefe worldly toyles, as he might not
euer leave them at his will. For fo ftraunge and
fodein chaunces fall vpon him, as a man would
neuer haue imagined, and therefore he cannot
vpon fuch a fodeine withftande it, but is forced
to yeelde. Wherefore I would wifh no man to
be fo caried awaye with thefe ihort pleafures
and fweete found of man's life, that they fhould
caft behinde them the remembraunce of the
right way to doe well : as happened vnto him
that would mende and fet his Jewelles.
Of a Jeweller that forgot
his profit, and gaue himfelfe to pleafure.
There was a rich Merchant of Surria that
brought from the Cair a great fumme of precious
Hones, and bicaufe they wanted fetting in Golde
with curious worke to pullim them, hee agreed
with an excellent artificer (moil fkilfull in fuch
workes) to giue him daily a certaine fumme of
money, bicaufe that during the time he wrought
in his Jewelles he fhoulde worke with no other
but only attende his bufynefle. This cunning
workeman went euerye morning to thys mer
chants houfe to worke, carying his tooles wyth
him : and working all the daye at his defire, at
night
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 57
night he receyued his dayes wages agreed vpon.
It happened there was brought to this merchant
a goodly initrument, and excellent to playe vpon
(muche like to a Harpe), to fee if he would buye
it. The next morning betimes came this worke-
maifter to follow his worke, and the firft thing
that the merchant did was to fhewe him the
Harpe. The workeman taking it in his hande
(being an excellent mufition, and playing well
of this inftrument), he fayd : Sir, is it your plea-
fure I mall playe ? yea, fayd the merchant.
This cunning man paffingly handling this inftru
ment, playde fo fweetely, and mewed fuch
mulicke in fuch ftraunge and rare ftoppes, with
fuch voluntarye wythall, that the merchaunt
delighted with his heauenly harmonie made
him play all daye long. At night this cunning
workeman demaunded his dayes hire, as if he
had wrought the whole daye in his Jewels. The
merchaunt denied it, and would not paye him.
The other alledged that he had bene in his houfe
all that day (at his requeft) as he was the other
dayes before. This matter called before the
Judges and brought in tryall, the Judge gaue
fentence againil the merchaunt, and forced him
to paye the workemaifter for the daye (fuch
fumme of money as they were agreed vppon) as
if hee had wrought all daye. The merchaunt
yll
58 THE FIRST PART
yll digefted the Judge's fentence, but much
worfe the paiment, greuing him to the heart to
paye fo deare for fo fhort a pleafure, where he
might haue gotten much by the others worke,
if like a foole he had not let him.
Let men that giue themfelues to the pleafures
of this vnhappie life be warned by the example
of this merchaunt, to leaue afide the fweete
deceits of the bodie, and to attende onely to the
precious ftone of our foull, pullifhing and keep
ing that cleane. Lorde howe many are there
that leaning profit follow lofle, and all for a
fayned fhowe, or worldlye ihadowe. The Grey-
hounde that hath pinched the Hare, and taken
hir in hys mouth, cannot runne after another he
feeth go before him and take hir alfo : for fo the
one may fcape from him quite, and the other
eafily vanifh out of his fight. O miferable
worlde, naye rather moft miferable and wretched
our mindes and willes : that plainly feeing our
hurt and miferie, we ftill hedlong purfue and
follow the fame. What is he liuing fo ignoraunt,
that knoweth not our life paffeth quicklyer awaye
than the lightening that commeth before the
thunder clap, and in the darke clowdes giueth
moft fhort light : and that our fight (the lighten
ing paft) comming into the darke is blinded more ?
the
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 59
the man truly that is loft in this worldlye broyle,
and entered into the fea of miferies : that that
fenfuall appetite and fhort defire ftieweth him,
feemeth light vnto him, but in a moment
(wretched creature he) he findeth himfelf in
darkenefle. What part haue we of any good
thing in this fhort courfe of life ? where is our
good beginning? where the excellent middeft?
or where the perfite end ? In that day (O mifer-
able man) tha.t thou art begotten in thy mothers
wombe, in the felfe fame day death imbraceth
thee to ouerthrow thee at his will. Our firft
originall is begun in darknefle and corruption,
the firft paflage that putteth vs forth to the light
of this world, bringeth vs forow and lamenta
tion. We are borne naked, fubiect to difeafes,
vncleane, and haue neede of all things, and of
euery bodies helpe. Afterwardes, vnlefle we
would feeme ymages of ftone or timber without
vnderftandinge, wee muft be taught, ruled, and
inftru&ed, which bringeth vs difeafes, troubles,
paynes, forrowes, and griefes. And in this while
how many neceffities doe aflault vs ? how many
bufinefles doe oppreffe vs ? the elements ofFende
vs with heate, colde, and barrenefle. Difeafes
neuer forfake our bodies, and the troubles of this
world neuer letteth vs reft an houre. To be alone
it grieueth vs : to be accompanied it troubleth
vs:
60 THE FIRST PART
vs : to liue long it werieth vs : to haue little
mifliketh vs : and fufficient contenteth vs not.
The thought of death on the one fide affaulteth
our life : and on the other, the paffions of the
minde to forfake our goodes, friends, wife, chil
dren, and the worlde, doe Hill pricke vs. O
what troubles and afflictions, what terrors and
paffions, abideth this our confufed bodie : which
the moft part of our time is replete with anger,
rancor, and malice, but often voyde (rather euer)
of iuftice, mercie, and pittie. And laftly, what
doth one man for another ? He caufeth that by
force the good is troden downe with the euill.
The foole taketh away the reputation of the
wife : the Iyer plucketh out of his feate him that
alwayes telleth troth : the noble Gentleman well
brought vp is ruled by the vndifcrete and rude
Cloyne. What more? vertue alacke dieth, but
ignoraunce liueth. Wherefore our Hate is in
more daungers and troubles than his, that flying
the fiercenefle of fower Lions to faue himfelfe,
leapt into a Well with greater daunger. As
writeth the great Philofopher Tialonus.
A Parable of the Worlde.
A certayne lufty yong man trauelling throughe
a defert countrie, wandering to and fro amongft
the
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE.
61
the thicke and huge woodes, happened one day
to come into a great large playne, where not
farre from him he fawe trauerfing in the way
fower great and terrible Lions : whereof he being
marueiloufly afrayd (to beholde fo horrible a
light), tooke him to his legges and ranne for
life : and bicaufe he was not able to runne fo
farre right out, as the Lions had force to followe
him, by good hap in running he was ware of a
Well in the middeft of the field, about which
grew certain wilde rootes of little trees, and,
being come to the Well he caught holde with
his
62 THE FIRST PART
his handes of the thwigges of the fame, and fo
caft himfelfe into it, hanging by force of his
armes vpon the thwigges, not falling downe at
all : and throwing his legges a crofle to the fides,
he ftayde himfelfe with them, and the ftrength
of his hands to kepe him from falling downe.
While hee ftoode thus vpon his feete and force
of handes, looking downe into the Well, he fawe
a terrible Dragon that with open mouth gaped
for his fall. This youth brought nowe to fuch a
prefent mifchiefe, rayfed vp himfelfe perforce
fometimes, and looked out of the Well to fee if
thefe devouring beafts were gone their waye :
and feeing them Handing hard by him, with
great forrowe and paine he hunge Hill on force
of his armes fcant able to continue. A newe
mifhappe (and worfe than all the reft) aflaulted
this iolye youth. Two beafts of colour white
and blacke came to gnaw the rootes of thefe
thwigges, the tops whereof he gladlye helde faft
in his handes to fuftaine himfelf aliue withall :
so that nowe he fawe prefent death on euerie
fide prefented. Remayning thus in this daunger
(brought to forrow and difpaire), cafting backe
his eie, he fawe a little hole behind him wherein
there was a pot full of honie, layd there by
chaunce by fome fhepehearde palling by that
waye. And forgetting quite in what termes
of
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 63
of life he ftode, he beganne with one hande to
tafte of it, holding himfelfe by the other, and
fo long hee attended to thys little tafte, that
forow ftroke him on the necke. For the two
beafts had gnawen a funder the rootes when he
hedlong fell into the Well and died.
What is fignified hereby, or who can other-
wife interprete it, but thus: The Well repre-
fenteth the world. The foure Lions the foure
elements, which feeke ftill to deuour man. The
Dragon with gaping mouth, what was it elfe but
the graue ? The two thwigges or boughes, tem-
porall goodes and loue to which we are wholly
inclined : both which by the two beaftes are
gnawen a funder, the one white, the other blacke,
which are vnderftanded for the day and night.
But the pot with that little fweete honie, to
which we are giuen, not regarding our daunger,
betokeneth no other but the fhort pleafure
of this worlde, which retayneth vs, and
fuifereth vs not to knowe the daungers
and troubles of this moft miferable
world, and of our thrall and
troubled lyfe.
The Seconde Part of Morall Phi-
lofophie^ fhewing 1 the wonderfull
abufes of this wretched
Worlde.
ANY and diuers are the fayinges
of our wyfe and auncient Fathers
fpoken to exhort man to quiet-
nefle, and to make himfelfe won
derfull in behauiour, wyfe and
ware in thefe wordly thinges, and pacient of
life. That noble Romaine that fought and
laboured to bring the people and communaltie
to loue their Magiftrates and fuperiours, tolde
them a pretie tale (to write it happilye in this
Booke for him that knoweth it not) howe the
handes were angrie with the bodie, and thus at
variaunce would not for malice giue meate to
the mouth: as thofe that thought themfelves
inferiour to no other member, and thought
fcorne to take fuche paynes, and the other
members not. By reafon whereof vfing this
abftinence
MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 65
abftinence of felfe will a while, refrayning to
doe their office in giuing meate to the bellie :
the bellie fuffering lacked his fuftinance, the
handes alfo beganne to leaue the fkirmiftie, and
knowing then their lacke and hurt (for pre-
feruation of both) repenting themfelues, they
returned to their office, and beganne againe to
feede the mouth. And thus vnited both in
one, they preferued eche other. With this pretie
tale he made the people fenlibly to vnderftand
what became them, and how they mould be-
haue themfelues to their fuperiours, for their
muft needes be Magiftrates and inferiours, Mai-
fters and fervaunts. An other likewife tolde a
tale, that manye yeares paft there was a Horfe
vfed to feede in a goodly pafture, where hee
alone was Lorde and Maifter within himfelfe.
At length by chaunce there came within his
dioceife a mightie growne Hart, who tooke
his herbage there as his right alfo, and did
eate and feede beyond all reafon or meafure.
Infomuch that this horfe difdaining his beaftly
attempt, chafed this Hart from the ground full
many a time & oft. And perceyuing he could
not for all that ouercome him, bicaufe his homes
were of as much force as his feete, he was madde
for anger. It happened fo one day a man came
through this pafture, and paffing by, the horfe
came
E
66 THE SECONDS PART
came neare him, and tolde htm his whole mif-
hap, praying him to helpe him. This man that
was more wife and fubtill than a beaft, tolde
the horfe that hee alone coulde not doe this
feate, and mewed him plainly that he muft
needes haue faddle, bridle, and rodde : to fpeak
of ftirrops, ftirrop leathers, and fpurres, me think
it no wordes of Grammer. For when the Latine
tongue was onely vfed they had no fuch termes,
bicaufe they had no fuch toyes. The beaft to
be reuenged of the other beaft did beaftly let
himfelfe be ridden, and like a beaft became
prifoner to the man. ^Efope recyteth alfo many
of thefe pretie fables, being verie pleafant,
learned, fharpe, profitable, and full of Mora-
litie, as you fhal heare in this deceytfull framed
practife deuifed by a Moyle, betwene the Lion
king of all beafts and the Bull, which was
neuer made and inuented by the wife Fathers
to other ende, but to fhadow and couer the
life of man from the foule fpottes of vice : as
fheweth you this prefent hyftorie following. '
In India, in thofe worthy and iuft times
adorned with vertue and wifdome, euery one
of thofe royall princes (as Lordes of noble man
ners and behauiour) retayned with them in their
princely Courtes men no lefle learned than ver-
tuous.
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 67
tuous. Among which a king there was (called
in their tongue) Diftes, who defired much to
reade hyilories, and to imprint in memorie the
goodly and profitable examples to direct him
and his withall. O noble time and happie
yeares : in his reigne I faye liued in this Diftes
Court this noble Philofopher Sendelar, fo ex
cellent in his comparifons and examples, as no
man that went before or after him coulde once
go euen with him, much leffe exceede him. This
worthy Prince rapt with the excellencie of this
rare (yea odde) man, moft willingly fpent fome
time in difcourfing with him : and this wonder-
full Philofopher alfo with deepe and profounde
fentences mewed his worthinefle. But amonge
all the beft thinges hee fpake, hee alwayes ad-
monimed the Prince to haue a good eie to his
Court, and a founde iudgement to iudge hys
people : and chiefly that hee fhoulde not loue
fauour, nor elteeme for friendes (endeuoring
himlelfe all he coulde to knowe them) double
tongued men, lyers, tale bearers, and vitious
liuers. And to the ende his Maieflie ihoulde
foone feele fuch mates as it were at hys fingers
endes, he made him a longe difcourfe of their
maners and practifes, with thefe examples which
you mail heare, woonderfull and learned.
Beholds
68 THE SECONDE PART
Beholde the pageants and
miferies of the court of this Wbrlde.
There was a Heyward or neteyarde that had
the keeping of a great herde of Cattell in a large
common, as Gotes, Sheepe, Mares, Kyne, Horfes,
and Bullockes, And it happened that a Bull
amongft the herde (called by y e herdman Chia-
rino) became in looue wyth a iolye yonge Heigh-
fare, that had diuers trimme markes and fpottes
on her fkinne, and was fauoured and belyked alfo
of the Herdman who for hir beautie and fayre-
nefle named hir likewife Incoronata, and many
times did crowne hir with a garlande of fundrye
fortes of flowers. Ill fortune willinge it, and hir
deftinye with all, this fayre yonge Heighfare play
ing and leaping from hill to hill, unfortunately
fell and brake hir necke, and with hir fall dyed.
This herdman fimplye fleade hir, and with hir
fayre ikinne made him an open caffock fauadge
fafhion. Now I leaue you to imagine the rage and
madneffeof thisBull, lacking hisfayreyonge heigh-
fare,that like other Bulles wandered vp and downe
to feeke hir. In this raging beftiall loue of hys,
the herdeman foolifhly caft vpon him the caflbck
made of the heighfares fldnne, which this Bull
feing runneth fiercely vnto the herdeman, lowing
and
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 69
and fnuffing extremely, in fo muche as if the
herdeman had not hyed him quicklye to have
caft it of his backe, the Bull had forthwith
panched him. The cloyne being mad with
Chiarino the Bull that had feared him thus,
threwe his hedging bill at hym, and hitting hym
full on the knee he cutte him fuch a game, as
he had beene as good almoft haue howght him.
So this poore Bull with his wounde was left in
the fielde, not able to go after the herde. The
herdeman after the tyme of gifting hys cattell
came out, and that the feafon of the yeare did
hafte him home to preferue the beaftes from the
Iharpe and bitter wether of the mountaines 5 he
brought them into the playnes againe, and
delivered vp his account of them all, fhewinge
infteade of the heighfare his caffock made of hir
fkinne, declaring hir death and the Bulles depar
ture. Saying that the Bull beinge in loue with
hir, (and in his chiefe pride) ranne his waye, and
ftrayed fo farre, that he went quite out of light
and coulde never be fet eye on agayne fo that
the owner amazed with that tale quieted himfelfe.
This poore Chiarino lefte all alone and lickely,
limping went feeding vp and downe, and fteppe
by fteppe halting on (paffing thorowe many
mountaines and hilles) in many dayes he hapned
to come into a folitarie (but fertile) country, in
habited
70 THE SECONDE PART
habited with infinit number of wilde beaftes :
and meeting there with good pafture and better
ayre, in time he waxed whole and founde as euer
he was, failing that age had ftolen upon him, by
meanes whereof he had quite forgot Incoronata :
to weete the crowned heighfare. Yet con
tinuing thus without any make of his kinde, he
rored and yelled amiddeft that valley & caues,
whofe lowing ecco rebounding backe with terrible
founde, imprefTed a merueylous feare in all the
herde of wilde and fauadge beaftes. The Lyon
that was Kinge of all the reft, hearing the hollow
and fearefull noyfe of this mighty Bull, not
acquainted before with the like noyfe : notwith-
ftanding his hardineffe, yet was hee fore afrayde
and amazed both, and durft not once for lhame
faye I am afrayde. In the ende parplexed thus,
he refolved to fende a fpye, and calling to him
fecretely a wilde Bore, he fent him ftraight to
fee what newe and ftraunge thing that was. This
wilde Bore running through thickets, thornes,
bryers, and hedges, at length came neare to the
Bull. And when he fawe fo goodly a beafte,
with his fharpe homes fo pointing out, and with
his parted hide (halfe blacke, halfe white) and
blafed ftarre in the foreheade, fo well fhaped with
all hee ftoode in a maze, as one ouercome with
feare, and fo much the more, bicaufe at that
inftant
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 71
inftant the Bull put forth three or foure terrible
lowes. So that the poore wylde Bore was driuen
for feare to hide himfelfe in mudde, all faue his
head onely. Now when he efpied his time he
retourned to the Lyon, and tolde him the qualitie
and condition of thys moft terrible beafte. 1 do
not tell you now what feare this Lyon had, that
princelyke kept his denne, as kinge in deede,
of all the reaft : and that was a Pallace for the
counfayle, a chamber of prefence for his Gentle
men, wherein they gaue themfelves to difport.
But of this kingly feare was ware a fauadge AfTe
of longe appointed eares, and priuie to the fame
alfo a Moyle, brother to the AfTe, which both
determined to vnderftande the caufe. The mee
Affe, Aunt to the Moyle, and mother of the Afle,
chaunced fodeinly to heare certaine whifperings
amongft them, and one foftly to fay to the other,
It is no marueyle that the Kinge cometh not oute
of hys denne. It is no marueyle neither that he
goeth not ahunting, hawking, fyfhing, tournieng
and i lifting other whyle as hee was wont to doe.
The other anfwered, It is certayne that he is
afrayde of that great and mightie Beefe, and that
he fufpeð his kingdome fhoulde be taken
from him. Doeft thou not marke his croffe
aunfweres, howe wyde from the matter? hee is fo
full of choller that he wyll fpeake to no ma,
neyther
72 THE SECONDE PART
neyther fuffer any to fpeake to him : fo as hee is
not to be delt withall by any. The fliee Afle
vnderftanding the effect of their talke by dyfcre-
tion, flepping in betweene them both, me would
needes make the thirde, and faye hir minde too.
He that is well cannot keepe him fo. The Lyon
taketh you both for hys friendes, therefore feeke
not I praye you that that pertayneth not to you.
What a goodyere haue you to do to meddle in
his matters ? are yee out of your wittes, or wearye
of your liues ? or what wilbe, attende you on
Gods name to your bufynefle. For hee that is
bufye in that he knoweth not, nor toucheth him
not, and that concerneth not his Arte; if any
mifchaunce lighteth on him, he hath but that he
hath iuflly deferued. As I will tell you hereafter
a tale of an Ape, and what hapned to hym, bicaufe
he woulde needes meddle with a craft he had
no (kill of. But before I beginne to tell you I
will make a little digreffion with two wordes.
It hath bene an olde and true opinion, that
for the feruante to fearch his maifters doings it is
both naught and vncomely too : but to delire to
know the Princes caufes or affaires is of all other
yet mofl daungerous. And naturally who fo is
giuen to be a fearcher out of other men's doings,
he can neuer be reckened good nor honefl. Now
giue eare vnto the tale.
A
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 73
A tale of an Ape medling in
that he had no f kill.
There was an Ape in our Maifters woodes,
which made manie pretie toys and deuifes with his
handes, for I that carried home the woode from
thence fa we it, and therefore I can be witneffe
of it. But one day being bufie to meddle with
an Arte he had no fkill of in ileade of a rime he
caught a frogge. I fay therefore that a laboring
man of oures went one daye to the woode, and
hewed out a lode of woode, which laying on my
backe I caried home. It fortuned one daye that
he cloue certaine logges or billets not very bigge :
and to make them fitte for burdens he hewed
them with a long axe, riuings them with wedges
out of hand, that the woode opened, fo that
giuing fower ftrokes with the Betell he layde
them on the ground in peeces. Nowe this blefled
Ape got him up to the top of an oke and looked
diligently after what maner this labourer hewed
his woode in fo fmall pieces, and was verie defirous
(as it feemed) to proue it with his owne handes
if he coulde likewife doe the fame, and he had
his delire. The woode cleauer hauing clouen
one halfe afunder, left it euen fo, and went and
layde him downe in the lhadowe to take a nappe :
fo that the wedges and axe remayned in the woode.
Straight
74 THE SECONDE PART
Straight commeth doune this foolifti Ape from
the Oke, and ketcheth holde on the fteale of the
Axe, and tampered fo long withall that at length
he gate it out of the logge : but euen,with his
ftriving the axe comming out at a twitch vnawares
layd him alongeft on the blocke, and one of his
legges vnhappily dipt in the clyft, which clofing
togither, helde his foote as faft as might bee, fo
that for extreeme paine he cried out as he had
been gelt. The cleauer of woode that lay not
farre of, hearing this noife and lowde crie, ranne
to the place, and faw this foolifh beaft caught
faft in the logge. Which then too late efpied his
beaftly follie ; that he tooke vpon him to meddle
in things that pertained not to him, when he faw
this churlim Cloyne lift vp his armes with a Bat
in his handes to pafhe his braines a peeces :
which he full dearely bought with the lofle of
braine and life.
It is not good therefore I tell you plaine for
you to deale in Princes matters, to fearche out
their meanings & intents. If needes yee will,
marke well my wordes -, and faye I tolde it you.
Vpon my lyfe yee bothe in the ende fhall feele
thefmartand payne thereof. The Affe perfwaded
by his Mothers wordes left off his enterprife :
but the prowde Moyle fayde, I intende to know
them,
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 75
them, and therefore I will get mee to the court.
And I will you knowe, deare Mother, that
manuell craft is one exercife, and to knowe to
behave themfelues in Court is an other Arte.
Thy wordes in parte are good, to caufe them
refrayne from doing things they can not bring to
pafle. But to me that muft remaine in Princes
Court, I maye not go fo plainlye and fimply to
worke, but muft vfe euery one with Arte, feeding
ilill their humor -, to deale in others matters with
deceyt, and in mine owne to have a fubtill witte,
deuifing ftill all I may to be chiefe about the
Prince. And that that now I haue tolde you, I
haue long iince determined to doe. In Princes
Courts he that proceedeth not ftowtely in his
matters, befides that he is thought a Coward, they
take him for a foole. What ? Know not you
that fortune fauoureth ftill the prowde and
ftowte ? think ye my ftowtenefle will not fauour
me, accompanied with the malice of vnderftand-
inge, and with the pride of reputing my felfe
of noble bloud, which preheminences obtaine
happie ftate in Court ? And he that hath the
name to bee wife, fubtile, fharpe of wit, and with
that to be of noble houfe : hath made him already
a Cloke for finne, and a garment for his naughti-
neffe. That that I haue fayde I fpeake with
iudgement, and for proofe thereof I can alledge
you
76 THE SECONDS PART
you infinit examples. The Pecocke though his
faire tayle couer his fowle feete, yet it is not
faide that he fcrapeth in dunghill at all, but he is
reputed the faireft Fowle of two feete. The
flefhe of the Tortoife that is fo good and holefome
for man is not readily folde, but rather lotheth
many becaufe of his vglye light. If I doe but
looke well into Princes Courtes, none go great
thither, and thofe that come to greatneffe clime
by diuers degrees. Who for vertue, another for
flrength, and fome (be it fpoken with reuerence
of thofe beafles that haue vnderflandinge) for
malice: others by continuall feruice, and numbers
by other meanes. He that rifeth thus in great
neffe, and is noble and vertuous, it feemeth he
goth into his proper naturall houfe : but he that
commeth to that greatneffe with malice, and
fayned appearance, he may make iuft account I
fay that they are but lent him.
^T Yea marie nowe thou commeft to vnder-
ftande me, therefore and thou be wife go not to
the Court how foeuer thou doeft. For if Fortune
mould make thee great, whether it were by Arte,
fubtiltie, or deceit : the Lordes and Peeres that
are fine and cunning, and knowe all the points
of malice, would doe to thee, as a Judge of the
beaftes did to the Woolfe. And hearken howe.
A
OF M OR ALL PHILOSOPHIE. 77
A tale of the Woolfe concerning
breach of promife.
A Woolfe was taken in a fnare that a (hepeheard
had pitched at the foote of a hill (where euerye
morning he founde the haunt and tracke of the
Woolfe's feete) and at that time there paffed by
another filly fhepeherde, whom the Wolfe called
to him, and made a bargain with him, that if he
would lofe him he woulde neuer take any of his
fhepe, & thereupon gaue him his faith. The
ihepeherde newly come to keepe (heepe, like a
foole beleeued him, and loiing him in deede let
him goe. The Woolfe being at libertie ftrayde
not farre but he had gotten a fatte Weather by
the neck: the fhepeherde feeing that, complained,
and appealed to the Judges, and tolde them the
pleafure he had done him, and what the Wolfe
did promife him. The Woolfe being brought
before the Judges, denied that he promifed him
ought : and if they would needes make it that
he had made him a promife, he fayd that in that
place where they fay he had promifed him, he
would go from his worde againe. The Judges
agreed, and went togithers to the place. The
Woolfe being come to the foote of the hill, faid
to the fhepeherd : was I here ? yea anfwered
hee.
78 THE SECONDE PART
hee. And here then fayde the Woolfe before
thefe Judges I doe vnfaye it againe. Naye
fayde the Judges (knowing his malice) it will
not ferue thee, vnleffe thou wert faft tied in the
fnare euen as he founde thee. The Woolfe glad
to be releafed of his promife (being indeede a
fubtile beaft, but yet not drawing fo deepe as
the Judge vpon the fodeine) beaftly fuffered him-
felfe to be fnared againe as the fhepeherde found
him. O, now thou art fafe fayde the fhepeherde,
keepe thee there, denie it nowe a Gods name, I
giue thee leaue, thou malt mocke me no more I
warrant thee. Whilefl this matter was doing
thus, the other fhepeherde commeth in the nicke
that firft had pitched his fnare, and fo tooke the
Woolfe for praye (as of right hee might) and
forth with he Que him with his fheepehooke.
So that now you may heare how they fare that
liue upon deceyt. Go not therefore I faye, if thou
meane to clyme to high degree by fuch vnlawful
and difhoneft meanes. Then fayde the Affe unto
the Moyle his brother as followeth.
Brother Moyle our Mother hath reafon, and
fure me telleth thee true. Thou promifefl largely
to thyfelfe. Thou feekeft when thou art caught
not to lofe thyfelfe, but to catch others, with no
profit to thee but hurt to others : and this is not
thy
OF M OR ALL PHILOSOPHIE. 79
thy waye to deale. Therefore I my felfe per-
fwade thee now to tarie, and bidde thee not to
go. She fayth true anfwereth the Moyle. But
mall I telle thee brother Afle ? A fimpler beaft
in the worlde than thou, liueth not. Thou pro
ceeded: limply like a good goofe. Thou careft
for no more fo thou haue three or fower thiftels
to gnaw vpon, and a little water to drinke ferueth
thy turne. I pray thee tell me : are there not in
the Kinges Court many meaner in all conditions
than I ? if Fortune haue fauoured them why the
goodyere mould me not alfo fauour mee ? if I
had not manye times feene (fayde the Affe) a
little Affe eate a great bundell of ftraw, I would
yeelde to thee, and confirme thy opinion. But
woteft thou what ? a little Axe ouerthroweth a
great Oke. The arrowes for the moft part touch
the heigthes, and he that clymeth vp to the tops
of trees, falling hath the greater broofe. But I
fee deare brother Moyle thou fhakeft thy heade
at me, and that thou little forceft my wordes :
and fure I were a great and monfterous beaft to
perfwade myfelfe to obtayne that, which our
Mother coulde neuer reache vnto. But lith it
booteth not to perfwade thee, and that thou art
felfe willed and bent to goe to the Court, (com
pelled thereto by a naturall inftinct, which for
the moft part driueth euerie one headlonge for-
warde,
8o THE SECOND E PART
warde, and that thou canft not fliunne it) I will
yet ihewe thee what fauour and helpe I can : but
by the waye take this leffon.
For the firft thing thou malt flie ignorance,
which euer fitteth ftill and doth nothing, and hath
two great eares as thofe of mine thou feeft, but
hir feete take part after the Griffin, and part
after the Affe. One part lignifieth that the
ignorant are familier Afles, & the other that they
are greedie of honor, and of the profit of good
deferuing beaftes. Thofe long eares fignifie the
ignorant, which will heare all others doings, and
beleeve they knowe all thinges. Thou muft
alfo be true to thy maifter, and when thou art
once retained in feruice, thou muft not betraye
thy Lorde for any golde or corruption in the
world. For many times thofe that are in fauour
with Princes, and neare about them, are fought
vnto to practife to poyfon them, to kill them, to
doe them fome mifchiefe, or alfo to robbe them
of their treafure, and to fubvert their whole ftate.
For no refpect in the world, whileft thou art in
feruice, (nor after) fee thou deceive him not of a
mite. I do aduife thee alfo to be pacient. For
thefe Lordes and States I tell thee for the moft
part are fantafticall, and I marueile not at it at
all : for in deede the Princes matters and affaires
doth
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 81
doth fo occupie and trouble their heades that
God knoweth they are full of paffions,, and can
yee blame them? Therefore fometimes, will
they nill they, they looue and hate againe. And
when thou perfwadeft thy felfe (by reafon of a
fewe fmyling lookes they haue ouerwhile giuen
thee) that thou art in highfauour, then theyfeeme
not to knowe thee. And thou mufte alfo looke
after recompence of thy feruice, though vnhappily
thou haft perhaps beftowedfiue and twentie yeares
time, and thy youth withall, and yet notwith-
ftanding haft not beene the better a rum for
al this: and another in foure daies is made
riche. For thus thou fhouldeft but wrappe thy
felfe in care to thy vndoinge and yet the thing
nothing remedied. And what ? they will not
fticke to playe thee many of thefe pranckes.
Therefore he that cannot beare it patiently, lifteth
vp his head, and a flie lighteth on his nofe, and
byteth him with thefe and fuch like Courtly
graces, & fo goeth his way : fo he that loofeth
his time and yeres. Pacience therefore that oft
goeth to fleepe with Hope, bringeth thee at leaft
to fuche ende as thou art not ware of, and fome
time it carieth meate in mouth & getteth thee
fomewhat. Feare generally muft be thy right
eie to guide thee with. Thou muft feare the
enuie of Courtiers, for they will make thee
ftumble
F
82 THE SECONDE PART
ftumble and laye thee flat on the ground vpon
thy nofe. And the more thou groweft in
fauour with thy Maifter, and that he giueth
thee, and make thee fatte in purfe : fo much
more take thou heede to thy felfe, and looke
about thee. Now marke well what followeth.
The vnthankfulneffe of Maifters.
Buriafo (one of our corporation) was a certayne
beaft that if thou hadft knowne him, thou wouldeft
rather haue taken him for a flouenly beaft than a
man. He brought vp a Soowe and made fo much
of hir that he himfelfe fedde hir with one hande,
and with the other he clawed hir. And when
this Soowe had often times brought him Pigges,
and that good ftore at a farrowe, he ftyed her vp
and fatted hir, and when fhe was fat, (forgetting
the loue he bare hir) he flicked hir, and in time
eate hir. There are fuch like Maifters that clawe
thee with one hande, that is, they giue thee faire
wordes : with the other they feede thee, to weete,
they giue thee draffe. And when thou haft
ferued them (which is vnderftanded by the bring
ing foorth of Pigges) a time and fpent thy youth :
and if Fortune be thy friende, then they giue
thee, and make thee riche : If thou die before
thy good happe, farewell thou, fo much is faued.
If
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 83
If thou Hue long, and art growne fatte, fome
blaft of difpleafure may call thee to Coram. So
art thou chopt vp, the lawe proceedeth on thee,
and fhortly all the fatte and greafe thou haft
gotten before melteth into the Princes Gofers.
Howbeit, I may tell it to thee (he it fpoken
without offence of beaftes of vnderftanding) there
is good prouifion made to the contrarie now
adayes. For wljat fo euer becometh of them-
felues they make all fure that they can : let the
carkas go where it will, the fatte and greafe they
haue gathered is betimes difpofed to others for
feare of that they looked for. And thus all
thinges are preuented by polycie. I fay no more.
This is the worlde, and fo it goeth. Keepe this
in minde and harcken further.
If fortune fauour thee fo that thy Maifter make
fuch account of thee, as he commeth to afke thy
counfell in anye thing : doe not as many Coun- |
fellors doe, and thofe that are in eftimation with
Princes : which thinking to pleafe them, giueth
them counfell according to the profite they finde
for them, and according to the Princes paflion,
I maye not faye, will, and right. But bee thou
bolde to fay truely and vprightly, not looking in
any bodies face. If thy Maifter fhoulde happen
to frowne upon thee, and that he were angrie, in
anye
84 THE SECONDE PART
anye wife holde thy peace, and replie not againe
as others doe, neither fhake thy heade as though
thou miilykederY, but get thee out of fight as
thou wert not hee. Neuer be afrayde of bend
ing his browes, or of a frowning looke, as longe
as thou ftandeft vpright, that is : that thou
proceedeft truly and honeftly in thy doings.
Sometimes they giue thee faire words, and do to
thee as the fowler that catcheth Thrufhes that
cried out for colde of his handes amongeft the
boughes : and the Thrufhes that were in the cage
to make a noyfe, fayde that he cried for that he
was forie they came to ftoope to the Birdlime.
No fayde a little Birde looke to his handes, and
let his eyes alone. Take alwayes heede to the
doinges and not to the wordes. Knoweft thou
not of the Quaile that hunge out of the windowe
in a Cage, and a fparrow-Hawke feeing hir,
ftooped downe to the Cage, and fayde to hir,
Daughter mine, be not afrayde, make no noyfe,
for I bring thee good newes : and began to tell
hir ftraunge and pleafant fables, and in the meane
while with hir talentes Ihe beganne to teare the
wyers of the Cage. The Quaile leauing to give
eare to hir bablinges, feeing hir woorking well
ynough, began to be frowarde, and to beftirre
hir. Inafmuch as hir Maifter hearing hir flut
tering in the Cage (knowing there was fomewhat
about
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 85
about hir) ranne to the windowe and fo faued
hir. Truft not therefore I faye the words of
fuch, but beleeue their doings, and alwaies fay &
do thou well : Giue good counfell, and be
alwayes prayling of thy Maifter. And if thou
fee him take vppon him anye enterprife for his
profite and reputation, commende it, and exalte
it : aflift him, and encourage him to it. Thou
muft be wife alfo thou reache not to farre, that
thou take not more vppon thee than thou art
able to difcharge, but alwayes keepe thee within
boundes, if fortune mould neuer fo little fauor
thee. For the fauor of the Maifter is a hill full
of goodly flowers, and wonderfull fruites and
plantes. But in this hill there dwelleth moft
cruell and terrible beaftes. Some fpitteth forth
furie, fome poyfon, one fpitteth fire, another
fmoke : fo that thou muft alwayes bee armed to
defende thyfelfe, or elfe that thou may not be
offended.
The Moyle being weried with the cumber-
fome wordes of the Affe his Brother, cutting off
his talke, as one whofe Judgement with ambition
was corrupted, he tooke his heeles, and on his
waye to the Court he flingeth to this princely
King and Lion. And being come vnto his
Maiefties prefence obferuing all maner of duties
and
86 THE SECONDE PART
and reuerances pertinent to fo royall a throne (as
his fubtil! and craftie Moilelhip knew well
ynough to doe) euen forthwith he crept into his
bofome, and got into his fauor, faying thus. The
fame of your Royall Maieftie which runneth
through the world, hath made me not onely to
come to humble myfelfe, and to doe my dutie,
but alfo to offer your highneffe my feruice : put
ting him in remembrance alfo that many yeares
agoe (in their firft yong flouriftiing age) the Affe
his brother and he were verie familier with his
Maieftie : and in maner all one with him. And
fhewing him that he was able to doe his Maieftie
feruice in many things, he kiffed his feete, and
offered him armour and horfes to feme his
Maieftie and the Real me: adding thereto, that
it woulde pleafe his highneffe to accept his poore
offer : faying that a little toothpike doth feruice
to the greateft Prince, which he alwaies occupieth
in his mouth, being reckened one of the chiefeft
places a man hath.
The Moyle's words greatly pleafed the King,
and turning to his Lordes hee fayde. Sure my
Lordes mee thinketh he hath a deepe iudgement
& capacitie, and as I remember in their very youth
his brother and he had excellent wittes, and fee I
pray you now how trimly he is come forwarde : I
promife
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 87
promife you he hath fpoken verie clarkly. Surely
he is able to doe vs good feruice at all times when
we call him. And to conclude my deare Lords,
vertue cannot longe bee hidden, albeit for a time
by fome euill accident it be opprefled. Flame
and fire alfo couered with violence, when it
burfteth out againe, fheweth the greater, and
maketh waye where it commeth. Beholde how
orderly hee came to me. And though we cannot
knowe his inwarde minde, and that it were not
that it fheweth : yet is it fitting for a noble Prince
to entertaine him that commeth, not knowing him
at all. Although the Needle pricketh, yet a man
occupieth it to ferue his turne, and is as neceffarie
as a Knife. Wee will place euery one in his
rowme. The firft feate is for the Elephantes, the
other for the Camels j the Apes in their place,
and fo forth, to vfe eche one according to his
degree and calling. For the nailes may not be
placed where the teeth are, nor the teethe where
the eyes ftande, much lefie the eyes in place of
the heeles: but let euery member doe in his
place his office pertayning to him. A man to
feede Serpents, were a ftrange fight and perillous.
For he fhoulde not only ftande in danger to haue
his hande deuoured of the Serpent, but to be
ilaine foorthwith alfo with his fpitting poyfon.
Our common weale is like vnto a bodie which
diuerily
88 THE SECONDE PART
diuerfly doth occupie diueres meanes. The eares
goe not, the feete heare not, the nailes crye not,
neyther doth the tongue fcratch or giue any
helpe, as doth the office of the nayles. In thofe
Cities where thefe tame beaftes doe dwell : they
make not Rattes to ketche Hennes, nor Hennes
ketche Hares, or Garden wormes ketche Flies,
nor Flies ketch Graiftioppers, but euery one
doth his office. The Catte taketh Mife, the
Grey hounde the Hare, the Foxe the Hennes, the
Hounde the Foxe, the yong the older The
fparrowe Hawke flieth at Quailes, the Gofhawke
at Pheafants, and the Falcon at Partridges. I
haue a fmall Court, and a little Realme, but for
thofe fewe beaftes of heade that I keepe, they
are able to doe feruice, in refpect of other
Princes, which kepe a rabblement of rafcals &
miferable wretches, with little honor, and great
fhame. I better like my little and fruitful
countrie, than a greater being barren : yea, & I
am one of thofe that loue a good feruante, though
he be a ftraunger, as I doe thofe of mine owne
countrie. The fruites of our ortcharde are good,
and thofe that are broughte farre of are not yll..
If we fhoulde feede of no other but of our owne
fruites, we mould feldome fill our bellies : faying,
I will none of them bicaufe they are none of
ours. Then turning to the Moyle, with a certaine
louing
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 89
louing afped, he followed on his tale. The
worthinefs of the minde and vertue, is that that
is to be efteemed. That fure is the knowne
{hielde and armes of the true Gentilman, and not
the greatneffe. The King in deede of right ought
to imbrace men of fuch vertues and qualities,
rewarding euery one according to his merits, and
not to mew partialitie to any, and to banilhe out
of his court all thofe that feeke for Jlngularum
comodum, never to repute them for his friendes,
nor to accept them for fervauntes. After thefe
and a fewe other wordes hee fpake, he tooke
his leaue of his Lordes, and withdrewe him felfe
into his withdrawing chamber (as all Princes of
like eftate are wont to doe) calling the Moyle to
him, and fecretely they communed. Who when
he faw the King make of him, and that he layde
his faourable hande vppon the croope of his malice
he wagged his tayle, aduancing him felfe in his
Affe like maner, and finely couched in Rethoricke
his cloked flatterie : and when he fawe his time,
he fpared not to fpeake, and thus he fayde.
Of the Turkic Cocke and what
happened to him.
A Turkic Cock (one of the faireft, of the
braggeft, and alfo the ftatelieft in all our
quarters)
90 THE SECONDE PART
quarters) was taken prifoner in the battell of
the Pigmies, and was folde to the King of
Pheafants with condicion to be ranfomed. Who
feeing fo fantafticall a beaft with fo great barbs,
which fometime were a pale blew, fometime a
fkie colour, now changed from that to white,
and then to black againe, he wondered to fee
thofe fodeine chaunges : and more beholding
his fwelling and railing up his fethers, putting
forth that home of flefhe, he fayde he neuer
faw before fo goodly a woonder. And talking
a little with him, hee founde him of a bigge
voyce, of fewe wordes, but refolute, fo as hee
made much of him. And wote ye what? thither
came a number of beaftes of his countrie (vnder-
flanding of his captiuitie) to ranfome him. But
he being high minded, and reputing himfelfe
the chiefe Birde of the dunghill (as true he
was) would neuer fay he was a prifoner, but
that he was amongft the Phefants for his plea-
fure, and thus difpifed their fauor and the helpe
of them all. On a time there came a friend of
his to him, and fecretly offered to giue him
(that no man mould know it) fo much golde as
mould redeeme him out of prifon. But he re-
fufed it, and woulde none of it, bicaufe he
would not feeme to be a prifoner. In the ende
(neceflitie enforcinge him, and remembring his
cafe)
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 91
cafe) hee was contented to be counfelled by that
faithfull and louing friende of his, and clofely
tooke the money (that in fine doth all) and
payde it, and fo departed. For if he had con
tinued in that foolifh reputation of him felfe
Hill, and had dwelled in his obftinacie, he had
perhaps dearly bought the price of his follye.
It may peraduenture feeme to your Maieftie
that I paffe the boundes of modeftie, if I mould
open to your highneffe my meaning hereby. I
come as your Maieftie's humble and faithfull
feruaunt, and true friend, to tell your Maieflie
that I am forie to fee you go no more abrode
a hunting, a walking, and fporting yourfelfe at
your pleafure as you were woont, but that you
keepe your Pallace ftil with malancholie, which
was not your woont I knowe. Well, I ftande
nowe before your highneffe readie to fpende my
life and goods in your feruice and quarell : and
if I might knowe your griefe, I make no doubt
at all but I woulde labour fo, that your Maieflie
mould be fatisfyed, and lyke of my feruice. If
you be troubled for any matter concerning the
ftate, or any other thing of importaunce : your
highneffe mufte impart it with a fewe of your
faithfull feruants, and fuch as you truft beft.
And although they be of the meaner fort, yet
they maye ferue your Maieftie with hartie looue
and
92 THE SECONDE PART
and good will, and doe their beft indeuour. I
haue prefumed vnder you Maiefties good licence
to faye thus much, bicaufe I recken myfelfe to
be one of the faythfulleft feruaunts your Maieftie
hath euer had, or now retayneth.
The Lyon, as King of beaftes, and that knew
before of the wilde Bores report the nature and
propertie of this mightie beaft the Bull, mooued
not a whit at thefe wordes, but wifelye hid that
inwardly which hee openly vnderfloode j and
with large wordes and new deuifes fayned diuers
his perticular accidents, faying that he was not
well at eafe, and founde himfelfe fubieft to his
ordinarye ague. And thus the King and Moyle
difcourling togithers (a happie chaunce for the
Moyle, and an yll happe for the Lyon) the Bull
that was harde at the Court gate gaue three or
foure terrible lowes that the Lyon fhooke agayne
to heare him as one that was more afrayde now
than he was before, by reafon of the great noyfe
and rebounde of his voyce : and not able any
longer to hide his griefs, he fayde. This voice
fo bigge and terrible runneth throughe my
whole bodie, and in counfell I tell it thee,
(knowing thy troth and fidelitie to me) I pro-
mife thee I am afrayde of my Kingdome : and
my reafon is this. That feeing the voyce of this
fearefull
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 93
fearefull beaft is fo great (as thou hearelt) it is
lyke his bodie is aunfwerable to the reft, which
if it be, I am in no fafetie. And now without
further ceremonie thou knoweft the whole caufe
of my fodeine chaunge and feare, therefore in
this cafe I would be glad to heare thy opinion
and iudgement.
Mightie Prince, if no other noueltie or occafion
haue caufed you to refrayne your pleafures but
this voice which I haue heard, me thinketh it is
but fmall and not to be accounted off. Your
noble courage mould not be afraide of anything
before you know it, and what it is, and whether
it be to be feared or not : as I will let your
Maieftie knowe by this tale I will tell you
feruing for the purpofe.
Of the Foxe and his foolijh feare.
A foxe with all his familie chaunged his
hole, and got him to another, and harde by the
fame, there was a little cottage, where dwelled
a .xxv. Muleters with their Moyles, and euerye
morning betimes they came to lade them. You
muft vnderftande that the noife of thefe fundrie
fortes of belles and other trappings that they
put aboute thefe beaftes, made all the countrie
ringe
94 THE SECONDE PART
ringe with that mad noyfe. The Foxe hearing
the founde of thys yll fauored noyfe ranne
quickly to hide himfelfe in hys hole, where
he lurcked Hill till the noyfe was gone : which
was fuch, that it feared the Pullen, and feared
him from his pray. One day this Foxe being
on the fide of a hill, hearde againe this fearefull
noyfe of belles, and lifting up his heade to looke
about him, there he fawe thefe bleffed Moyles
comming with their belles, and laughing to
himfelf, was aihamed of his fimplicitie. The
fame faye I vnto your Maieftie, that my opinion
is, that this your Maiefties feare is fuch a like
fantafie : and bicaufe your Grace mould be in
formed with fpeede of this matter (afluring
your Grace to kepe your griefe fecret) I doe
offer my felfe, if it ftande with your pleafure
to goe abrode into the Countrye, and to difcouer
the thing vnto you. And fo foone as I (hall
haue knowledge of the beaft and of his qualitie,
I will forthwith aduertife your Maieftie howe it
ftandeth, what the matter is, and how this geare
goth about. And you mail know it euen as it
is, I will not miffe a iotte, leaft you mould be
informed contrarie of fome timorous beaft, taking
one thing for another. Therefore I befech you
fir comfort yourfelf, and let him alone that
knoweth it: and thus he tooke his leaue, and
trotted
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 95
trotted from the king. The king highlye com
mended his counfell and aduice, and willed him
to difpatch that he had promifed.
This wormipfull Moyle was fcant out of fight,
but the Lyon beganne to haue Hammers in his
head, and to imagine a thoufande ftraunge de-
uifes, and grewe in choler with himfelfe, fufpe6t-
ing and fearing both at one time: and fayd.
Well, what and he double with me ? yea, and
how if he beguile me with his cloked colour to
doe me good ? fure his foothing words doe not
like me, mee thinketh he is to full of them.
May not hee tell him with the terrible voyce,
that I am afrayde of him? and out of doubt
for as much as I can imagine, he cannot but
be a beaft of a marueylous ftrength : and adding
thereto the others treafon, it is another maner of
thing than to be but afrayde only. For betweene
them both they may vtterly vndoe mee. Many
other milhappes fall out in this bucke, that if I
had not this thought (feeling my feare) might
happen. And peraduenture too this beaft is
enimy to the Moyle, and wil fet him vpon me,
to thende that I fhoulde reuenge fome injurie
done him : and if he be as vnhappie as he
feemeth for, out of doubt hee will not fayle to
put a flea into his eare. Sure I mall be driuen
to
96 THE SECONDS PART
to flie and haue the woorfte. O wretch that I
am, what haue I done? alacke I fee I haue
done amiffe, I have taken a wrong Soowe by
the eare, and fo going in the darcke I muft
needes fall. And thus the Lion out of one
doubt leapt into two or three more, and ftoode
betwixt life and death, with no lefle hope than
great feare. Hee went vp and downe his Pallace
like one halfe lunaticke, fretting and chafing,
now aboue, then beneath, ftill looking for the
Moyles coming, which had broken his appointed
houre with the Kinge : yet at length looking out
at a windowe (which opened to the playne
fieldes) he efpied the beaft comming with a
wondrous ioy. His Moyleihip brauely yerked
out with both legges, and liuely fhook his eares
and head. He brayed and flong as he had bene
madde. The Lyon as though he had not bene
grieued at all, returned againe into his place,
and looked for the Moyle. Who arrived, was
receiued ioyfully, and with good countenance of
the whole court. The King after thefe graue
folemnities and ceremonies done, retired into
his withdrawing chamber with the Moyle : and
vnderftanding by him that this beaft the Bull
was faire, gentle, and pleafant withall, (and
that for no refpecl; he mould once feeme to
fufpe6t any thing in him, but if it had bene
his
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 97
his Maiefties pleafure he would rather have
brought him to his prefcence to haue done his
dutie to him) hee reioyced much, and for very
loue and kindneffe imbraced and luffed him an
houre long togither. And hearing by him that
this Bui was wife, and of good capacitie, and
able well to execute j hee fent him backe again e
with charge to bring him to the Court, at leaft
to vfe all meanes and perfwafions he coulde
poffible to bring him thither. The Moyle putt
ing on a newe paire of mooes to doe the Prince
feruice, galloped as he had flowne, and ilraight
he was with the Bull, whom he founde lyinge
in the fhadow, chewing of his cudde : and the
Moyle lying downe by him began to talke in
this maner.
O faire Bull, and more than beloued brother :
knowe thou I am Secretarie to the King of all
vs vnreafonable beafts, and am fent to thee from
the Lyon moft puifant and mightie, not only of
men, but of ftrength aboue all other vnfpeakable.
And as a friende I come to tell thee, that this
gronde thou feedeft on, and dwelled in, is not
thine, but pertaineth to his M aieflie. By reafon
whereof he hath manye times put himfelfe in
armes, and affembled his force, with minde to
giue thee battell, and chafe thee out of his
Realme,
G
98 THE SECONDE PART
Realme, and peraduenture to take thy life from
thee alfo. But I that am to him as I am (it
maketh no matter :) was a meane vnto his
Maieflie (as it is a part of all honeft beaftes) and
tooke upon me this iourney to thee, and haue
promifed the King in thy behalfe (I knowe thou
wilt not deceyue mee) that thou malt come vnto
his Maieftie, adding further too, that if thou
hadft knowne his Maieftie had bene at hand (as
he was indeede) I was bolde to faye thou wouldeft
haue come to his highnefle, & humbly haue done
thy dutie to him. AfTure thyfelfe he is a King
that honorablye entertaineth, rewardeth, and
requiteth any feruice done him by his faithfull
feruants, and he is not alfo forgetfull of his
friendes good willes. And if thou wilt be but
fuch a beaft as thou oughteft to be, I warrant thee
thou flialt fet thy foote by the Kings and bee no
leffe thought of than he, and will he nil! he thou
malt be as well fedde euery day as hee. If thou
wilt not come aduife thee, I haue fayde, thinke
vpon it : thou art olde ynough, there fore thou
knoweft or fhouldeft knowe what thou hafte to
doe. He is King here and will bee King too.
If thou wilt not ihewe thy felf a fubiecl:, the
Kinge is to doe as he thinketh good, and fo I
leaue thee. The Bull that had no more the
white fome in his mouth and had loft his luftie
courage,
OF M OR ALL PHILOSOPHIE. 99
courage, wanting his yong and wonted force,
confidered of it like an aged bodie, as hee had
bene a gelt Oxe that had drawne in plough a
xij yeares, and aunfwered many wordes confuf-
edlye, running from one thinge to another, and
thus they went debating and kneading of the
matter togithers a good while : the Bull Hand
ing rather in feare than hope ; which feare this
Moyle with hys true reafons brought out of his
heade againe. The Bull perfwaded by the
Moyle was contented to go with him, relying ftill
upon his promife. Who gaue him his worde
that he fhould by this iourney (in goinge to
ihewe his duetie to the King) haue no maner of
hurt, neither in word nor deede : and this pro
mife alwayes kept, he fayde he woulde wiflinglye
abide with the Kinge. Then the Moyle bounde
his promife with a folemne othe and that with
as great an oth as a Moyle might fweare by : and
that was by the eares of the Affe his brother.
And then touching their feet togithers (I would
faye handes in beaftes is vnderftanded) they kifled
in the verye mouth euen with their tongues, and
fo went on the neareft way. The King flanding
in his flately Tarras, (mounted in the higheft
place of his Prtncelie Palace) looking rounde
about the Countrie, thinking it a thoufande yeares
till he fawe this mightie Bull : beholde he fpied
the
100
THE SECONDE PART
the Moyle comming and the faire Bull by his
fide, marching demurely with his harde horned
heade, that in ihow he feemed a great Lorde.
Then fayde the King to himfelfe. O, what a
goodly proportioned beaft is hee ? My Kingdome
without his force were nothing. And euen in
that moment at the firfl fight hee fell in loue
with him. And nowe come to the Kinges
prefence, this Bull kneeled downe, kitted his
hande, and faluted him : and did fo finelye and
cunninglye excufe his negligence in comming to
his Maieftie, that the t Lordes flanding rounde
about
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 101
about the King were rauimed with his wordes,
they did fo pleafe them. The King bade him
ftande vp, and willed him to tell the caufe why
he kept fo long in thofe fieldes, and what hee
ment to braye and rore fo terribly. The Bull
tooke vpon him the oratores part, and ftanding
afide from the beginning to the ende he tolde
him the whole difcourfe of his miferies. So that
the whole auditorie pitying his mifhaps became
his friends. This Bull in his Oration, mewed
him felfe to be a great Bacheler in Rethoricke,
a great Maifler in Arte in grauitie to expounde
things and a marueylous high hill of eloquence.
The King wondering at his yeares, commanded
ftreight ftables mould be provided for his Lord-
ihip, and gaue him an infinite number of feruaunts
to wayte upon him, making him Prince of Bulles.
Dukes of Beefes, Marquefle of Calues, and Earle
and Lorde great Maifter of Kyne : and with a
wonderfull great prouifion he furniihed hys rackes
yearly, and made hym of his priuie counfell.
After he had imployed him a while, hee knewe
his worthineffe and difcretion : fo that in the
ende he made him Viceroy & greateft Lorde of
his Realme.
This Moile alfo that liued in Court in feruice
of the Prince, more than a fewe good wordes,
courteous
102 THE SECONDE PART
courteous entertainement, and familiar acceffe he
had to the King hee could neuer get landes nor
pofleflions : howbeit he obtained many pretie
fuites of the Kinge, nowe for one man, than for
another. Further,, he was fo bolde and familier
with him that hee woulde not fticke to giue him
worde for worde, nor forbeare him an inche.
And patted many things by the Bulles meanes,
which his mightie Bulfhip gaue him gratis, for
that he was as a fworne brother to his Moilefhip.
In the ende this Moyle growen thus great began
to looke hie, and prouinder pricked him fo, that
like a beaft (forgetting himfelfe) he muft needes
take vpon him to reproue his Maieflie of parcia-
litie, and ignoraunce ; and hauing no bodie that
he might truft to breake withall he was ready
to burft for anger. Wherefore he was forced
to feeke oute the Afle his brother, and to make him
priuie to the matter, knowing he had none fo
fure a friend to him whom he might trufl but
he. When they met, he beganne to tell him at
large his whole griefe and trouble, complayning
of the ingratitude of the King all at once, that
he had fo long followed his tayle, and had neuer
any thing of him worth his trauell ; and if I had
done no more but brought him out of the feare
he was in, and to bring the Bull to his prefence.
And here hee poured out to the Aife a worlde
of
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 103
of wordes, fayings, and deedes. The Afle that
heard him all this while, began now to fpeake.
I tolde thee ynough that thou wouldeft be to
bufye in matters : in faith brother thy braine
fwimmeth nowe. Thou muft not be fo fonde
to take all flyes that flye in the Court: Thou
fhouldeft haue conlidered this in the beginning
brother mine, (but thou wouldeft not be ruled).
And haue perfwaded thy felfe that this fhoulde
happen to thee and woorfe. Thou wert a verie
beaft, a beaft thou haft mewed thyfelfe, and a
beaft thou wilt continue ftill, but it fkilleth no
matter, as thou haft brewed fo bake, and there
an ende. If thou wilt not be called by the
Kinge to deale in his matters, why doft thou
(foole) put thy hande in the fire, and meddleth
with that thou has naught to doe ? Thou that
mighteft haue liued quietly at home & at eafe :
what the goodyere ayleft thou to clyme to the
toppe of trees ? See nowe what thou haft done,
and whereto thou has brought thyfelfe : quite
out of fauor with the Prince. Neuer fharpe
thy tongue if thou wilt not haue it cut thy hande
when thou occupy eft it. What knoweft thou
whether the Bull lay this heavy burthen on thee,
knowing now thy double dealing with him in
his comming to the King ? Well doe as thou
wilt, if thou carie a Snake in thy bofome, what
can
104 THE SECONDS PART
can I doe withall ? Mee thinketh this thy
mifhap is much like to that that happened to the
holye man in the other mountaine by a theefe
of that countrie : and bicaufe I would haue thee
knowe it to ferue thy turne another time, thou
mayft heare it.
In the top of Pirinei Mountaynes, harde to
Pampilona, a Citie of Nauarra, in a mountayne
called Verrucola dell amiraglio (where the Deuill
left Malagigi the notable coniurer when hee
brought him to the iourney of Roncifualle) there
dwelled a folitarie man giuen altogither to the
contemplation of the high and celeftiall things
of God, who was vilited for his holyneffe and
doctrine of all the countrie. So it fell into the
King of Canetteria his heade to go fee him alfo,
and thither he went. Who when he founde
him deepe in iudgement of high myfteries (as he
was mofl ignoraunt in bafe and mean things)
he gaue hym great treafure to buylde and fuf-
taine him without trauayle. An olde long prac-
tifed and beaten theefe hearing of this richeffe,
imagined ftreight with himfelfe to ketche two
Doues with one Beane ; and one nyght he toke
his iourney towardes this holy man, and when
hee was come to him, pitifully bewayling the
yll lyfe he had led, he prayed the fielye foole to
keepe
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 105
keepe him company in his prayers, and to teach
him the good and holy commaundements of the
lawe. And forthwith he gaue himfelfe to fafting
and prayer. So that this holy and fimple man
thought he would haue loft his wittes, and thus
with his cloked deuotion by little and little he
made himfelfe maifter of the houfe and riches.
One night this ftowte theefe caryed awaye a
great fumme and value, cleering the houfe of all
that was ought woorth (as a Barbers bafin) and
bought him a Hogge. This holy deuout man
ryfing in the morning, and miffing all his necef-
faries, hee wondered with himfelfe, but moft
of all hee mufed that all his golde, filuer, and
things of value were fhrunke awaye. Yet hee
had fuche a heade that he ftraight thought vppon
the malice of his vnhappie fcholler, lamenting
much the lofle of this ftrayed, or rather alto-
gither loft man. But to heare of him agayne
he wandered through many a countrie, carefully
feeking vp and downe, at leaft to meete with him,
though hee might not recouer his goodes, and
it grieued him fore to be in the middeft of his
forow, for the loffe of the one and the other. This
good man being in good hope yet, met in the
waye with two wylde and fauage Gotes, which
were at deadlye foode togither, and tried it out by
the heades for lyfe and death, to which fraye came
alio
io6 THE SECONDS PART
alfo the wylde Foxe, that ftepping in betweene
them both, lycked vp the ftreames of bloude that
fell from their harde horned heades, and tending
ftill this bloudie feaft, not regarding the daunger
he was in they fiercelye meeting their bodies
togither, cruffhed this Foxe betweene them,
both flrayght to death, who deferuedly payde his
proude attempt. The holy man feeing thys
chaunce, kept on his waye, and came at length to a
great towne : and bicaufe it was night, bichaunce
he came to be lodged in a pore old beade womans
houfe that playd the Bawde, whych had laide hir
egges for hir felfe long time before, & then was
glad to haue others to lay egges in hir houfe, of
which fliee otherwhile liked to feede on and to
take fome little profit. But at that prefent time
the yong faire Henne me had in hir houfe at halfe
of the profit, me had a Cocke by hir felfe, and
would be troden of no other. Now the Bawde
feeing fmall profit come of hir egges, me tooke
on lyke a mad woman. And the yonge Henne
keeping hir felfe ftill to one Cock, me was not
able to liue fo on it. This made the woman
madde for anger, infomuch as me detirmined one
daye to giue him a remedie for this : and the
foolifh Henne hauing appointed hir friende and
Louer one night, and prepared a certaine drinke
to breath him in his iourney, and to make him
luftie
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 107
luflie, it happened Ihee vnwittingly chaunged it,
and in lieu of hir firfl and coftly potion, fhee
placed where hir Louer Ihould lie a receyt of
oppium. This Cocke fleepingfoundly coulde by
no meanes be awaked : fo that the poore broken
Maide went up and downe the chamber like one
ftraught of hir wittes, and thought to go out for
fomewhat to wake him, faying that he that gaue
this potion hadfure chaunged Violles : and going
hir waye abrode to feeke remedie, the Bawde
thought ftrayght to difpatch him. And hauing
prepared already a Quill which me had fylled
with fine venimous beaten powder, fhee went
and put it to the mouth of this fleeping Cocke,
and blewe at one of the endes to make it enter
perforce into the body. But it happened farre
otherwife than fhee looked for. For euen at that
inftant there came fuch a blafl of winde from
him that had the oppium, that me hauing hir
mouth ready to blowe, receiued with the force of
his winde the whole powder into hir owne bodie,
which was made fo ftrong that forthwith fhee
fell downe dead. And thus weening to haue
deliuered the yong Mayde from him, to haue
gotten the more gaine to hir felfe, fhee quit hir
felfe of hir owne life. As man fhoulde neuer for
any vile corruption relieue one to hurt another.
For neyther doth Gods lawe nor the lawe of
nature
io8 THE SECONDE PART
nature beare it. And in the ende the worlde
will hate fuch wicked meanes, though for a whyle
and at the beginning it feemeth to fauor them.
That this horrible fa6t and mifchiefe was miiliked
the world doth know it,teftified byfo many written
authorities : mewing that hee which gaue himfelfe
ouer in praye to vice, and fhee for hir wicked
fact, were both buried togithers in one graue.
The whole Planets affembled themfelues togither
to confult vpon condigne and folemne punifh-
ment : bicaufe they would not fuche wickedneffe
fhoulde paffe without memorie, teilomie, and
perpetual] record of eche others deede. And all
ioyntly concurring togithers in confent, agreed
to frame a notable Monument, as now followeth.
They turned the Louer into a Moyle, and the
deade Woman continuallye rode vpon him
through wild and fauage countries, ftill laying on
him with a roddewithout ceafing. This holy man
departed from his lodging, and the night follow
ing he came to fuch another, in maner greater,
or at leaft the like. A yong maried wife intifed
by an olde Bawde fell to naughtineffe, and ftill
as opportunitie ferued the yong man hir Louer
came into the gardein of hir pleafures. The
hufband being ware of hir trade, fayned to go
forth, and faw all the becknings and promifes :
fo vpon a fodain he returned into hir houfe and
without
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 109
without any word at all tied his wiue's belly to
a naked pillar, and laid him downe to ilepe
behind the fame where hir Louer muft needes
come in : who walking at his appoynted houre,
and miffing of his purpofe, went ftraight to the
Bawde, and made hir go into the houfe, which
bichance had the keye giuen hir of the fore gate
by this yong wedded wyfe. And when me
came in, finding her bound, me vnlofed hir, and
ftoode hir felfe tied in hir roume, and fent this
pleafaunt wife awaye to fetche a good night. In
the meane time the huibande of this yong woman
awaking, delirous to knowe how all things went,
he called his wife many times, but the Bawde
would not aunfwere for hir bicaufe me would not
be knowne. The Goodman rifing up in the
darke in a rage fayd, wilt thou not aunfwere me ?
with that he flue upon hir and cut of hir nofe.
The Bawd was whifht all this while, and dare not
fpeake for hir life. The yonge woman that had
bene feafted abroade and fweetelye taken hir
pleafure, returned home, and feeinge the olde
Bawde thus vnhappilye dreffed for hir fake, it
grieued hir verye fore (yet gladde hir felfe had
efcaped the daunger) and fo untying hir, bounde
hir felfe againe, and fent this wretched Bawde
home without a nofe. The Bawde departed
thence, the yonge woman called hir hufbande,
and
i io THE SECONDE PART
and making pitifull mone mewed hir innocencie :
and that this is true fayde fhee, beholde my face
(is as it was at the firft) made whole againe by
God (reftoring me my nofe) bicaufe I am true to
thee, and to let thee knowe thou haft done mee
open wrong. The foolime hufbande ranne for
the candell, and found hir nofe faft to hir face
(which he beleeued he had cut off) as if he had
not touched hir : and afking hir forgiueneffe, ever
after he loued hir antierly, and thought hir
honeft. The olde Crone and Bawde returned to
hir houfe with hir nofe in hir hande, and hir
face all befmearde with bloude : yet fortune
fauored hir in this, that fhee was a Barbers wyfe,
and hir hulband ryfing early in the morning
before daye to fhaue the tayles of the Monckyes
of Portingale (for there there groweth heare on
their Buttockes, and no where elfe) called to hys
olde wyfe for his Combe cafe with razors and
other trinckets. Nowe me being thus handled as
ye haue hearde, (loth to mew hir felfe) put it to
aduenture, and giuing hym all his conceytes
within the cafe, me reached hym the razors in
his hand, the blades not put into the hafts. The
poore man haftie of his worke, in the darcke
haftilye took the razors in his hands, and all to
cut hys fingers : and then for anger (feeling his
fingers cut) he threw them fro him with great
violence.
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. in
violence. With that this craftie olde Bawde cryed
out amaine, alas, alas, my nofe. And taking one
of thofe razors fhe al to bloudied it and ftraight
mewed him (hir hufbande coming with the
light) the bloud, hir nofe, and razor. The
hufband aftonied at this, to fee this in maner
impoflible happe, mee {landing ftowtely to it,
caufed hir friendes and kinsfolks to be fent for,
& pitifully complaining to them they altogithers
went to prefent this chaunce to the Lordes and
rulers of the towne, and made hir hufbande be
punifhed. This holy man (as one in deede that
fawe this practife) loth to fee the innocent
hufbande fuffer for his wifes falfe accufation :
went to the feflions at the day of his araynement
to witneffe a troth for the feilye man. And as
he was bent to fpeake in fauour of this poore
Barber, he fodeinly efpied that olde beaten theefe
that had robbed him, and whom he went fo long
to feeke, who was euen newlye punifhed for an
olde offence he had done. This good man for
getting to follow the barbers caufe, and to doe
that good he came for: cried oute vppon the
Judge for iuflice agaynft the theefe (as hee that
in deede had more minde of hys golde than of
deuotion :) and befought him he might haue fome
part of his owne that was left, fince he coulde
not poflible recouer the whole. The Moyle that
all
112 THE SECONDE PART
all this while had hearde the Afles long difcourfe,
replyed ftraight and thus he fayde.
O I perceyue your meaning well ynough
(good brother Affe) and I knowe I take yee right.
If this holye man had ferued God and not caft
his whole minde on this worldlye pelfe, he had
not had that lofle he hath, nor bene troubled as
he is. If this carren Bawde had beene at home
at hir houfe ftill, (he had kept hir nofe on hir
face. And that other Bawde to, if fhee had not
minded to haue killed the Cocke of hir yong
Henne, ihe alfo had not died. Laftly the theefe
had not fuffered death if he had let the olde
mans goodes alone : and my felfe (to fay truly)
ihoulde not fuffer nowe fuch griefe, if I had but
onely followed mine owne bulinefle. I graunt
that if I were as I was at the firft, I would not
once flirre a foote to meddle in anye bodies
matters but mine owne. But well, well, what
remedie now? lince I am in for a Birde, and
cannot get out, and being ready to burft for
fpight I beare the Bull that he is thus made off,
and fet vp : by the Maffe I will ende it one
waye or other, by hooke or crooke, or it mail coft
me the fetting on, runne dogge, runne deuill.
Sure as a clubbe I will rayfe fome flaunder of
him, to eafe my hart burning withall, and to
bring him if I may out of credite. And this
cockle
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 113
cockle that I will fow may perhaps be profitable
for the King. For many times we fee that men
raifed to high degree, commonly practife things
hurtful to the Prince and ftate : or elfe that the
fubie&es otherwhile gouerned by him they mif-
like, doe ftreight rebel! againft the Prince. If I
fet in foote, I tell thee it were well done of mee,
that the Kinge might not in time receyue as
much hurt of the Bull, as the Bull hath receyued
goodneffe of him. The Affe lift up his head,
and girned at his brother to fee his ftubborneffe :
and fayde vnto him. O brother mine, I am
forie for thee. I fee thou art in health, and yet
thou takefl Phificke to bring thee to an Ague :
for vnder the colour for letting fall thine eares
in token of humilitie, thou wilt fling out
apace. Better fit ftill than rife and fall. Put
vppon thee honeftie and vpright dealing, let
them bee euer thy beft friendes and countenance :
and lift not up thy hart fo much with paffion,
leaft it happen to thee, (not thincking of it) as it
did to him that mooting at rouers up and downe
in the woodes (fuppofing no bodie to be there)
was mot at againe with his owne {haft, and fo
hit in the breft died ftraight. Thou playeft feeft
me feeft me not, and perfwadeft thyfelfe that none
will fpie thy wicked practifes, when in deede
thou (hall be payde home and neuer knowe who
hurt
H
ii4 THE SECONDE PART
hurt thee. But I wonder how thou dareft once
take vppon them to offend fuch a mightie beaft.
He is wife, of great ftrength, and hath great
credit, befides that he is in fauor, and doth
what he lift : and what he doth, the King doth.
Maifter Affe fayde the Moyle, No we like a
foole thou fpeakeft. Thou knoweft nothing if
thou beleeue that the greateft perfons onely can
reuenge and none others. Seed thou not that
fometime the limple and ignorant doe not regard
nor afteeme the good and vertuous : and many
times doe them ihrewde turnes and difpleafures ?
The Commons robbe the Gentlemen. But what
more ? the little fometime eateth vp the great :
and the Coward killeth the valiant. And bicaufe
1 haue hearde thee a while, and haft alledged
many fables and examples : thou malt now liften
to mine another while, and fo wee will confult
what is to be done. Jefu thou makeft this Bull
wonderfull great, and mee but a poore beaft and
of no account, but I pray thee heare me, being
poore and little as I am.
Of the Eagle and Beetell, and what
commeth offelfe will.
In the cliftes of Mount Olympus there haunted
a yong Leueret, feeding continually in that
place : and an eagle fpying, marked hir forme
where
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 115
where fhe fate, and at a trice came downe to
feafe on hir. This pore Leueret feeing hir felfe
thus diftreffed vpon the fodeine, called on the
Beetell that was makinge certayne little Balles,
I can not tell what, and bade him helpe hir.
The Beetell fiercely turning on the Eagle, bade
hir get hir thence, and let hir alone, for fhe
was his. The Eagle beholding the foolifhe
Beetell, how he ftoode on his feete flowtly ad-
uancing himfelfe fmyled, and laughing ftill
fedde on the vnfortunate Leueret till fhe had
deuoured hir all, not weyghing the Beetell one
of the woorft and leaft feathers on hir backe.
The Beetell looked vppon hir, and put his finger
to his mouth, and threatning hir went thence
attending his balles agayne, as who fhoulde faye :
tyme will come when I will bee euen wyth
thee. Within a whyle after the Betell carying
this iniurie in minde, fawe thys Eagle in loue,
and dodging hir to hir neafl, hee came thither
fo oft, that at length he founde egges, and
lifting up his tayle hee beganne to rowle them
vp and downe (the Eagle being abrode) and
rowled them quite out of the neft, euen in
maner when the yong Eagles were almoft
readye to bee hatched, and with the fall the
laye at the foote of the rocke broken, and
quallied all to peeces. When the Eagle re
turned
Ii6 THE SECONDE PART
turned to hir neaft, & fawe (hauing a verie
good eye) hir children in a hundreth peeces,
fhee pitifully lamented, the teares trickling
downe hir cheekes. The little beaft that in a
hole ftoode to fee the ende of this tragedy,
feing the Eagle take on thus heauily, faid vnto
hir: nay, nay, it makes no matter, thou art
euen well ferued: thou wouldeft not let my
Leueret alone, and with that he fhronke into
his hole, that the deuill himfelfe could not
finde him out. So that my good Maifter Affe
and deare brother, a man mufl beware of will :
for all thynges may be brought to pafle, and
nothing is hard to him that determined! to
doe it. Well yet heare another and then
woonder as thou wilt. It booteth not to ftriue
agaynft the ftreame.
There was a Rauen that in the top of a
great old tree, in a hollow place of the fame
(where none could find out hir neaft) did euer
lay hir egges. Beholde there came out of a
hole at the roote of the old rotten tree a
Snake, which leape by leape got vp to the
toppe of the tree, and fucked thefe egges when
they were newly layde : and woorfe than that,
what prouifion of vitailes foever the Rauen had
brought to hir neaft, the Snake ftill deuoured,
fo that the pore Rauen could neuer haue hir
prouifion
OF M OR ALL PHILOSOPHIE. 117
prouifion fhe prepared agaynft foule weather.
The foolifhe Rauen got hir to the Foxe hir
coufin to afke him counfell, and when fhe had
told him all and more, fhee refolued ftrayght
to flie on the toppe of the Eagles heade, and
to pecke out hir eyes : and therefore fhee de-
fired to knowe the Foxes iudgement. Beware
faid the Foxe, do it not : for it will not fal
out as thou thinkeft. Doeft thou not remember
what our elders were wont to fay : that it
booteth not to ftriue agaynft the ftreame, nor
preuayleth to be reuenged on him that is
ftronger and mightier than himfelfe ? but malice
and treafon onely muft ferue that turne. There
fore lyften a little, and thou fhalt heare this
notable chaunce.
Firft of felowfhips heare mee but foure wordes
by the waye, and then fay on that that muft be
fhall be. The Bull was euen predeftined great,
thou a Moyle, and I an AfTe. He that is
odeyned to be a King, thoughe hee be a
Plowe man, I beleue fure he mail be King,
and that heauen doth direft all things aright
and not otherwife. The examples are verie
good, but yet how things will fall out the
ende fhall trie it. Now on Gods name, fay
what thou wilt.
There
THE SECONDE PART
There dwelled a great Paragone of India (of
thofe that Hue a hundreth yeares and neuer mue
their feathers), a bird of the water, aire, and
earth, in a great thicke clofe knot of Rofemarie
vppon a pleafaunt Lake, placed beneath amongft
the little hilles spred ouer with herbes and
flowers. And always in his youth he liued
(as his nature is) of fifhe, the which with fome
deuife hee tooke by moone light with great fweat
and labor. And nowe being aged, and not able
to plunge into the water with his wonted force,
he was driuen to flie in the aire and feede on
Crickets,
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 119
Crickets, which beyng fewe in number, he was
almoft ftarued for hunger. But one day Hand
ing by the riuers fide all fadde and malincholy,
loe there commeth a great Crabbe wyth hir
legges fpred abrode to the bankes lide which
fayde : Sir Fowle how doe you ? in faith quoth
he, naught at home: for we haue yll newes
abrode. I pray you what are they fayde the
Crabbe ? Certayne rimers fayde he that within
fewe dayes with fome engines and deuifes will
drie vp this Lake and take vp all the nfh. But
I pore wretch, that yet other while had one, how
lhall I doe ? I would I might faue them (fince
I am like to lofe them) for the benifite that I
haue had fo long time, and that I might take
them out of the Lake, & flying carie them to
fome other furer place. The Crabbe hearing fo
yll newes, called to Parliament all the Fifties
of the Lake, and told them this matter. The
nines forefeeing the daunger at hande, had pre-
fent recourfe vnto the wylde Fowle for counfell,
to tell him howe it ftoode wyth them : and
fayde vnto him. If this be true, out of all doubt
we are in great daunger : therefore giue us the
beft counfell thou canft, as well for the loue
thou beareft to this Lake, as for the feruice we
looke to do to thee, honeft Fowle. The Para-
gone that knew there was good pafture and a
fertile
120 THE SECONDE PART
fertile foyle, caught holde, and bitte ftreyght :
faying. The great loue I beare you (quoth hee)
dear brethren myne, for that I haue been bredde,
fedde, and brought vp in this Lake, euen to
crooked age, maketh me truly to pittie yee, and
fure I am and will be ready to doe yee any good
I can. Therefore in my opinion (and yee will
be ruled by mee) you {hall doe beft to gette you
hence, and tarye not their comming, for they
wyll fpare none : all is fifhe that commeth to
nette with them. And bicaufe I am practifed in
the worlde (as he that goeth in euery place) I
can tel you there are a thoufand places fairer
than this, better, and a cleerer water, and were
marueylouilye more for your profite and healthes:
and if ye be contented, I wyll tell you where
and how. All at once yeelded to him, and
greatly commended him, (O foolifhe fifties to
beleeue fuch a beaft) prayinge him to difpatche
the matter wyth as much celeritie as might be.
He willed then fome of them to get vnder his
pinions, and to hold fail with their billes by the
fethers of his tayle, and fo to trayne them on,
hee diued fo farre vnder water that they might
conueniently faften themfelues in order to flie
with the Fowle. And when they were mounted
on his backe he tooke his flyht fayre and foftlye
to the toppe of one of thofe high mountaynes,
and
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 121
and fetting them downe on the ground he eate
them al at his pleafure. This manner of fiihing
continued a while bicaufe it went forward day
by day as he beganne, ftill filling his bellie. But
the me Crabbe that was rather malicious than
not imagined that thys Fowle had wrought fome
deceite, and euen then there was a Tenche that
me loued well ready to goe wyth the Fowle as
the reaft had done before, and this Tenche was
fo plumme and fatte that fhee might well ferue
him for a good meale. In the ende the Crabbe
fayde. O Fowle my deare brother, I would
thou wouldeft carye me to the place where the
other fifties are : and hee was contented. So he
gate vp on horfebacke as it were, and with hir
feete clafped the Fowle about the necke, and he
ftreight mounted into the fkyes, as one that
ment in deede to let the Crabbe fall and breake
in peeces : and euen then hee efpyed for the
purpofe a heape of ftones where he thought to
woorke thys feate to let hir fall. The Crabbe
beholdinge the garbage and offal of thofe deade
fillies, feeing the ymminent daunger me was in,
ftreight opened his mouth and feafed on the
neck of the Fowle, holding as hard as fhee could
for hir life : and fhee kept hir holde fo well,
that ftreight fhee ftrangled him, and the Fowle
fell downe deade, the Crabbe on his backe aliue
without
122 THE SECONDS PART
without any hurt at all. The Crabbe returned
home to hir Lake, and tolde all the mifchiefe of
the Fowle, and in what daunger fhe was in, and
howe fhee had freed them all from his deuour-
ing throte. Which vnderfloode the fifties all
wyth one confent gaue hir many a thanke.
The Foxe telling his tale, came to giue this
counfell to the Rauen, that he mould goe into
fome neighbours houfe and fleale a Ring, but
fteale it that he might be feene take it, hopping
from place to place, fnatching here and there
till he came into the Serpents hole. For by this
meanes being afpied with the maner, euery bodye
woulde runne after him, and then he fhould
let it fall into the Snakes hole. They to get the
Ringe againe would digge into it, and feeing the
Serpent, they fhould by this meanes come to
kill her. The Rauen lyked the Foxes opinion,
and robbed from one a Jewell of good value,
and caried it thither, whither all the yonge
people ranne after him, and digging the hole,
the Serpent came out amongft them, and they
flue hir. And thus with one little reuenge he
quited many injuiries done him. The Afle
that knewe his fubtile praftifes well ynough,
aunfwered. And fo am I of thy opinion, fpecially
if one deale with a foole, or with one that will
put
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 123
put a vifer on his face, and that imagineth none
can make it fo faft and fit as himfelfe, and that
trufteth altogither to his money, efteeming no
bodie, and Hues fitting in his chaire without any
care. The Bull doth not fo, for I haue alwayes
knowne him in his affaires no leffe fiibtill than
wife, and likes to heare euerye bodie, but fpe-
ciallye to followe the counfell of graue men in
his matters. And touching this matter I dare
boldly faye to thee and affure thee, that the Bull
hath a great confidence in me, bicause I brought
him to the Court vnder the fafe condite of my
worde, (although it needed not) and the other
that I made hym, will make him beleeue me in
anye thing I faye : and therefore let him come
when he lift, I haue done his errant well inough
I warrant ye. He reckeneth himfelfe fafe with
me but I will playe him fuch a part as the
vicious and wicked Foxe played another Lion
(as the ftorie following reiciteth), being like to
haue bene deuoured of him.
Of the Foxe and the Lion and of
the Foxes deceit to kill the Lion.
There was a maruelous drougth in Arabia
Petrea, in that yeare that the hote burninge
windes were, and as I remember it was euen
vppon
124 THE SECONDE PART
vppon the making of the Leape yeare in that
countrie, and being the firft time alfo of it, fo
there was no water to be had any where, but
onely a little fpring in the toppe of the Mountagne
called Carcolite. At that time there lay by that
fpring a braue and fierce Lion, which as we poore
beaftes went to the water to quench our thirft,
fet vppon vs, and deuoured vs, or at leaft flue vs.
So that he made a Butchers mambles greater than
anye Butcher maketh at Chriftmas againft any
feaft. Fame blewe forth this ftraunge death and
cruelty, fo that the beaftes compelled to affemble
difpatched ambaffadors to the Lyon, and offered
compoiition, to giue him daylye fome praye to
fatisfie him with, and that they might not all die
for lack of water. The Lion accepted the con-
dicion, flicking to their offer, as one that had
aduifed him felfe well, confideringe that if he
had not done it, they had all dyed for thirfte, and
hee for famine, and therevpon agreed. The
beafts drue lots, and on whome the lotte fell, hee
went his waye, to gyue him felfe in pray vnto the
Lion. So long thefe lottes continued that at
length it lighted on the Foxes necke to be
fwallowed vp of this deuouring Lion, which
feeing no remedie but to die hee muft (at leaft as
he thought) he deuifed to reuenge the death of
the reft, and to free his owne. And forth he
runneth
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIB. 125
runneth apace vnto this Lyon, and protrating
him felfe at his feete, beganne to enlarge his
olde and faythful feruice done heretofore to his
auncient predeceffors, and tolde him alfo how
he was fent Ambaffadour from the com panic of
the beaftes to fignifye to him a ftraunge hapened
cafe anew at that inftant. And this it was.
That the lot fell on a fatte Wether to come to
paye his tribute, and by the way another ftraunge
Lion met him, and tooke him quite away, faying
that hee was farre worthier to haue the Wether
than you, and that (prowdely) hee woulde make
you knowe it. If you meane to maintaine your
honor, I will bring him to you, and there you
lhall determine it betweene you by the teeth and
nayles. The Lyon madde at this, little fufped-
inge the flye Foxes wiles and craftes, was ready
to runne out of hys wittes, whan the Foxe
beganne anewe. My Lorde he hath dared to
faye (with fuche arrogancie) that he will chaften
you well ynough, and let you knowe you doe not
well, and that you mould do better and more
honorably to goe into the fielde, and there to get
praye, than to tarye by the fountayne, looking
that other moulde bring it vnto you, and as it
were to put meate into your mouth. And at the
laft, he fayde plainly you were but a flouch and
fluggardly beaft. Come on, come on, fayde the
Lion,
126 THE SECONDS PART
Lion, fh ewe me this bolde and daungerous beaft,
bringe mee to him where he is without any more
adoe. The Foxe that knewe a Welle where
they drue up water with ropes, that the beaftes
could not drink of it, brought him to the Welles
fyde, and fayde. Sir, the Lion your enimie is
within the Welle. He luftily leaped vp ftreight
vpon the Curbe of the Welle, and feeing his
ymage in the water he fierfeyle caft himfelfe into
the Well, fuppoling to haue encountered with
the Lyon his enemie : by meanes whereof hee
plunged himfelfe into the bottome, and drowned
ftreight. Which newes brought vnto the beafts,
auouched for troth, they ioyfully imbraced this
craftie recouered Foxe. Therefore faid the
Affe, thou thinkft thou goeft in clowdes, & hand-
left thy matters in fuch fecret that they fhal not
be knowne. But if through thy fpight and
malice the Bull come to his death, what haft
thou done ? To hurt him that is the bountie
and goodneffe of the world, it were to great a
iinne. Thinkeft thou the heauens beholde thee
not ? Beleeueft thou thy naughtyneffe is hidden
from Gods fecrete knowledge? O maifter
Moyle, thou art deceyued, thou knoweft not what
thou doeft.
Good brother Afle fay what thou lift, I am felfe
willed in this I tell thee, and out of doubt I will
bring
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 127
bring him out of the Kings fauor, or I will die
for it : and tell not me of honeitie or dimoneftie,
Tut a figge I am determined. Happie man
happie dole. Sure I will trie my witte, and fee
the ende and vttermoft of my malice.
1" The thirde parte of Morall Philo-
fophie defcribing the great treafons
of the Court of this
Worlde.
CAN not too muche exhort you
(good Readers) to take fome paine
to continue the reading of this
Treatyfe, knowing how much it
wil delight and profit you, hauing
ibmewhat vnderilanded alfo by that yee haue
read before, befide that ye fhal vnderftand in
reading this that followeth. Where you mall
know how much a wife Courtier may doe, and
a double man, whofe ende was aunfwerable to
his naughtie minde and lyfe. Which God
graunt maye come to all fuch enuious and
fpitefull perfons, that in Princes Courtes)
(and thorowe Chriftendome) delyght in fo Vile
an Arte, and to commit fo deteftable treafons.
And now giue attentive eare and you fhal
heare.
Beholde
M OR ALL PHILOSOPHIE. 129
Beholde the wicked pra6iifes and deuili/h
inuentions of afalfe trayterous Courtier.
This wormipfull Moyle when he had repofed
himfelfe a fewe dayes, and had liuely framed
this treafon in his head, hee went to the Kinge,
and mewed him by his lookes that hee was melin-
cholye, penfiue, and fore troubled in his minde.
The King that fawe this perplexed beaft, and
dearelye louing him : woulde needes knowe of
the Moyle the caufe of his griefe. Whom this
fubtill Moyle finely aunfwered, and with thefe
wordes.
Moft puiffant and mightie Prince, I haue euen
ilriued with myfelfe to hide the caufe of my
inwarde forrow, which in deede is fo much as it
can be no more. And albeit I haue bene many
dayes in comming to your Maieftie, feeking to
eafe fome part of my trouble : yet I could neuer
finde any deuife or meane to releafe my heauye
and wofull heart of any one iotte therof. And
this is onely growne (O noble Prince) of the
great loue I beare your Grace, bicaufe it toucheth
not onely your highneffe in perfon, but there
with the whole ftate of your Princely Monarchic.
And I that am your Maieftie's vafall and fubieft,
and a louer of the conferuation of your Realme
and
i
i 3 o THE THIRDE PART
and Kingdome, and bounde (will I nill I) to dif-
charge my bownden dutie to your Honour, which
the loue your Maieftie doth beare me doth fo
commaunde. Truely the trembling of heart that
I haue fuffered hath bene extreme, night and
daye continuallye vexing and tormenting me,
when I haue thought of fo daungerous a cafe.
The thought that pricked mee on the one fide
was to doubt that your Maieftie woulde not
credite me, bewraying to you the daunger : and
not difctofing it, I had not difcharged the dutie
of a true fubie6t and faithfull feruant to his
Lorde. Compelled therefore to open (as is the
dutie of euery feruante) all that that any way
may fall out to the hurte and preiudice of the
Maifter, I come moft humbly to fignifie to your
Grace the cafe as it ftandeth.
A verie faithfull and fecret friende of myne
not long fince came vnto me, and made mee
promife him, and fweare vnto him with great
othes that I fhoulde not tell it in any cafe, bicaufe
he is a man of great honor and dignitie, and
worthie to be well thought of and credited. And
he tolde me that the Bull had fecret practife with
the chiefe of your Realme, and that he had oft
priuie conference with them. And amongft other
things he tolde them all the great feare your
Maieftie had of him, difclofing to them alfo your
cowardly
OF M OR ALL PHILOSOPHIE. 131
cowardly hart and fmall force. And he went fo
farre forth in termes of reproche and difhonour
of your highneffe, that if his counfell, fauour,
helpe, and good gouernment had not bene, as
he faid : your Maiefties Realme (not knowing
whether you are aliue or dead) had ben at this
prefent brought to nothing. And further more
he did exhort them to affemble togither for their
profit, and to choofe him for their King. Saying,
if they would doe this for him, he would take it
vpon him to driue you out of your kingdome : and
he being King woulde fo exalt them and fhewe
them fuch fauor, that they moulde not finde him
vnthankfull, belides that he would acknowledge
the whole benefite proceeding from them. And
moreouer (the worft is yet behind) the more part
of them, I fweare to your highneffe by the heade
of my brother, haue promifed with fpeede to put
it in pra6tife, and continually they deuife the way
to performe it. So that inuincible Prince, take
not Negligence for your guide, but preferre and
entertein Diligence to preuente the traiterous
prepared daunger, and to forefee the happie
wifhed health of your Royall perfon. I was hee
that made him promife your Maieflie moulde
not offende him, nor once touche him when I
brought him to the Court, I am he that euer
lyked and loued him as my deare brother. But
yet
132 THE THIRDE PART
yet am I not he that will fuffer or conceale fo
highe a treafon againft my Lorde and Prince.
Tra6t not time, moft noble Prince, in wondering
at thefe thinges, but prefently put your felfe in
order for your fafetie : (fo mall you meete with
your enimie, and be ready for him) leaft your
Maieftie by flouth vnawares be taken tardie, as
was the flow fiflie which was taken in a Lake
with two others in companie. And this is a
certaine and true tale that I will tell your high-
neffe.
Of three great Jijhes, and what
isjignified by them.
Almoft vpon the borders of Hungarie there
was a certayne Lake that bredde fiflie of a mar-
ueylous bone, and that of monfterous greatnefle
as was to be founde or hearde of in the worlde.
The King bicaufe of the wonder of this Lake
would not fuffer it to be fiflied at any time : but
that himfelf when it pleafed him euery certaine
yeares did draw it drie. The King forgetting the
Lake a great time, and leauing his wonted fifliing,
three fifties grew therein of a monftrous bigneffe
and vnfpeakable hugeneffe, the which feeding
on the leffer eate vppe the ftore of the Lake,
leauing it in maner without fiflie to what it was
before. Now, as Hill it chaunceth, euery thing is
knowne,
OF M OR ALL PHILOSOPHIE. 133
knowne, the deuouring of thefe fifties was brought
to the Kinges eare, infomuch as hee determined
to goe fifhe the Lake for the three deuoring
fifties to eate them, that the frye might increafe.
Order giuen to his fiftiers, hee went vnto the
Lake. My Lord you muft know that euerye
where there is of all fortes, fome reftie, fome
liuelye, fome knauiftie, fome good, fome naught,
fome madde, fome fwift, fome flowe, and fo
forth. I meane that of thefe three fifties one of
them was malicious and fubtill : the other of a
highe minde and very flowte : and the third was
flothfull and timorous. An olde Frogge that
ftoode many times wyth thefe fifties in difcourfe,
to talke and play at fundrie other paftimes (the
whiche knewe ouer night the drawing of the
Lake) went the fame night to feeke out thefe
fyfties, and tolde them of the daunger at hande :
and euen as one would haue it, they were at the
table with three great Eales, although it were late,
(for then Fifties fuppe) and yet for all this newes,
they ftirred not a whit, but made the Frogge fit
downe, and they beganne to carrowfe when it
was about midnight. So that within a whyle
hauing taken in their cuppes, (bidding well for
it) their heades waxed heauye, and fo to fleepe
they went : Some at the table, fome on the
ground, fome in one place, fome in another. At
the
134 THE THIRDE PART
the dawning of the day the Fifhers began to
fpreade their nettes, and to compaffe the Lake
drawing all alongft. The Eales hearing the
noyfe got them into the mudde, that the verie
mappe of Navigation could not haue difcouered
them. The fubtill and malicious fyfhe hearing
a noyfe, ranne flreight into a dytch and entered
into a little ryuer where hee was fafe from
daunger of the nette. The other was not quick,
for the nettes had flopped his paffage, and bicaufe
he was flrong and ftowte, hee made as though
he had bene deade, hauing his mouth full of
ftynckinge mudde, and fo floted with the waues
vp and down, And the thirde was called of the
Frogge ten times that hee fhoulde rife and awake :
whooe, but all in vayne. He punched him for
the nonfte, and iogged hym agayne to make him
awake, but it woulde not be. And he, tut lyke
a fluggarde, aunfwered hym. I will ryfe anone,
anone : I pray thee let me alone a while, let me
lye yet a little curtefie and then haue with thee.
Still the Fifhers went on apace with their nets,
and let go the water : and when they faw this
great Fifh aboue the water, floating as I tolde
you, they tooke him vp and fmelled to hym, and
perceyuinge hee ftoncke they threwe him from
them into the Lake agayne, and cafl him into
the fame place where they had already drawne
their
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 135
their nettes, and fo he fcaped with life. They
happened on the thirde, which was as a man
would fay a certayne let me alone, and drowlie
fifhe, and they tooke hym euen napping. And
when they had him (thinking they had done a
great act to ketch him) they caried him in hafte to
the King (but by the waye I doe not tell yee of
the bragges they made in ketching thys Fiihe)
alyue as he was. Who commaunded ftreight he
moulde bee drelfed in a thoufande kyndes and
wayes, for that he was fatte, great, and mightilye
fedde. Now your Maieftie hath hearde the tale
of the Howe and fleepie Fiih, I leaue it to your
highneffe iudgement and determination, to forefee
the daunger, reaping the profite : or to leape into
it vtterly ouerthrowing yourfelfe.
The King fet a good countenaunce on the
matter, althoughe thefe newes touched him in
wardly, and feemed as they had not altered
him at all, and with great modeftie and courtelie
aunfwered the Moyle. I make no doubt of
thy true and faithfull feruice to mee, bicaufe I
knowe thou canft not fuffer fo much as the
ihadow of the daunger of my eftate & king-
dome, much lefle the hurt of my perfon. Al
though many Princes and Lordes in fuch cafe
thinke themfelues yll ferued : yet it is meete
and
136 THE THIRDE PART
and right that the good bee rather ledde by
vertuous inftinct, then caried away from the
right through difpleafure receyued. I fee thou
willeft mee good, & am fure that the loue thou
beareft me, maketh thee ielous of the main
tenance of mine honor and eftate. Yet it hardly
entreth into mee, and me thinketh it ftraunge
(faue that thou telieft it me, I could hardly
thinke it, much lefle beleeue it) that fuch
wicked thoughts mould breede in the Bulles
breft to me, lince by proofe I knowe him in
many things both good, faithfull, and honeft in
his feruice : and hee knoweth belides my good-
nefle to him, ho we I receyued him courteoufly
into my Court, and that he may faye hee is
made Lorde in maner of my kingdome.
Sacred Prince (fayd the Moyle) I beleeue in
deede that the Bull thinketh himfelfe well in-
treated of your Maieftie : (and good caufe he
hath fo to doe) and that hee meaneth no hurt
to your royall perfon for any difpleafure he hath
receyued of you, or for any conceyued hate he
hath towards you. And I thinke fure he taketh
not vppon him fo fowle an enterprife to other
ende, but bicaufe prouinder pricketh him, and
maketh him luftie to fling and play the wanton,
and for that he is well he cannot fee it, and that
maketh him to deuife fome mifchiefe, weening
to
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 137
to have all in his hands, faue the very title of
the King, and that this little, (hauing all the
reft) which is, alfo the moft, is eafie for him
to obtaine. I fuppofe your Highneffe hath
vnderftoode me : nowe take what way you lift.
I knowe well ynough that an Afle loden with
golde may ileepe more fafely amongft theeues,
than a King that trufteth trayterous officers
and gouernours appointed for the ftate. And
let your Maieftie bee fure of this, that that
which the Bull can not compafle nor reach
vnto by his owne force and others, he will
certainly practife by deceit vffing fuch meanes
to bring him to it, as the Flea did to bring
the Lowfe to that paffe he brought him to,
and that he had long purfued as followeth.
A tale of the Flea and the Lowfe and how
the Flea was reuenged of the Lowfe.
There lodged an old Flea in the chamber of
a great Prince, and there dwelled with him alfo
a gentle Loufe. The one continually fed vpon
little white doges of fyne longe heare, and after
hee had fylled himfelfe he retired with fafetye
all the daye, and walked at pleafure. The Lowfe
that was ftronger of bodie, and bit harder, many
times draue hir from hir pafture : So that the
poore
138 THE THIRDE PART
poore Flea was madde for anger fhee could not
be reuenged. It happened that the Prince tooke
to wife a beautiful yong Ladie one of the moft
delicateft and fineft morfels that euer Prince tafted
of in the world, and in that chamber was his
wedding bedde. The Flea drawne to the wed-
locke bedde with the fweete fauour of hir bloud
conueyed hir felfe ftreight betweene the fheetes,
and in hir firfl ileepe {he fweetely fedde at will
on this angelicall foode. Nowe fhee bit hir
yuorie thighes, then fhee gnawed hir breeft of
congealed milke, anone fhee fucked hir delicate
and foft throte, another while fhe pretie playde
hir, pinching that fweete carcafe, and when fhe
had filled hir bellie fhee leaped away, and went
to take hir reft, fhunning the day light. The
Lowfe attended to fedde on Dogges flefhe (for at
that time it was the order, that Fleas fedde of
men, and Lyce of Dogges) and liued in Gods
peace. The Flea, whome extreme rage did
gnaweto bee reuenged of the Lowfe, went tofeeke
him out with this cloked brotherly loue, and fayd
vnto him. Brother, though no caufe mooue me
to deale friendly with thee, hauing receyued
continuall difpleafures and wronges at thy
handes, yet I cannot refrayne but I muft doe
fomewhat for thee, fince fo good occafion is
offered me : and I am the willinger to doe it,
bicaufe
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 139
bicaufe thou {halt knowe I loue thee, and wylhe
thee well. Thou malt vnderftande I feede euerye
nyght on the moft fweeteft bloud in the world :
and woteft thou who it is ? it is of the beautifull
and delicate yong Lady newly epoufed. If thou
wilt go in my companie I am contented to carye
thee thyther with me, and will gladly impart my
ioyes and welfare to thee : and henceforth let
peace for euer be concluded betweene vs.
Agreed quoth the Loufe. And with that they
louingly imbraced eche others : the Flea inuiting
the Lowfe, and the Lowfe accepting hir bidding.
With this newe cloked reconciliation togithers
they went, to the great ioye of the Flea, not for
the atonement made betweene them, but for
the opportunitie of time that had fo fitted hir
to make hir reuenge : and the more it gladded
hir to, that hir owne force and might being
infufficient to encounter with his ftrength, yet
ileyght and policie fupplanted and exceeded hys
force. The nyght was come, the Prince and his
Ladye were layde in bedde to take their reft, the
Flea and the Lowfe lyke brethren leaped on the
bed, and when they fawe them at reft, and faft
a ileepe, they difpofed themfelues to feede, and
lyke ftaruelynges in maner famifhed they layde
on lode, fo that they rayfed great brode fpots like
pimples, as red as a Rofe. Thefe vermins being
now
140 THE THIRDE PART
now in the only gardein of fweetneffe, continuing
their byting euer in good earneft : this tender
Ladie forced with their cruell and vncourteous
bittes awaked perforce and foftly called hir Lorde
and hufbande and tolde him. I feele myfelfe
terriblye bitten this night with fome vermine,
and yet I know not what it is that thus hath
difeafed me. Hir hufband ftreight called vp
his men, and bade them bring light. The Flea
fo foon as me efpied light, like an olde prac-
tifer, at fowre leapes conueyed hir felfe away,
and fo efcaped. The poore Lowfe that was no
great horfe to leap, was taken tardie, and not
able to alledge for his purgation, as a dumbe
creature receyued the lawe, condemned to die,
and was committed to be preffed to death
between the Maydes two nayles, where for his
obftinacie and prefumption ihe thruft out his
blood and milke that he prefumingly had fucked
of fo noble a Ladie. Your highneffe alfo maye
take this example of that olde lame creature,
crooke backed, yll Ihaped, and deformed, which
with all thefe impediments (drawing one fteppe
after another) went as farre as he had his limmes
and helth, though with longer time, and crept
at length vnto his iourneys ende to doe any bufi-
nefle he had. This Bull wanteth not time to
further his pretence, hee will put his hande into
the
OF M OR ALL PHILOSOPHIE.
141
the Pye, and fet in foote when hee feeth his
time. And for this time I will occupy your
Maieftie no more but two words only of the Flea,
which hearing the cracke of the lillie Lowfe
laughed awhile at the reuenge that others toke
of him for hir : and to hir felfe me fayd. Ah lirra,
gramercy my good witte yet. Thou hail done
that on a fodeine for mee, that all the ftrength I
haue could not bring to paffe in a long time:
and nowe yet with another mans hande I haue
pulled out the Crabbe out of hir hole. I am
euen with him I warrant him.
Why
142 THE THIRD E PART
Why what mall wee doe then? if the cafe
ftande as thou fetteft it forth, what way fhall we
take? I will heare thee willingly, and follow
thy counfell : with this condicion though, that
in this interim my Realme and perfon be not
touched, or that I fuftaine perill or lofle.
Inuincible Lorde, to haue any member fef-
tered and rankle, and plainly to fee that if it be
not cut off it will corrupt and infe6t the whole
bodie, and in cutting it off the bodie remayneth
fafe and free from infection : what is he fo
madde that will not cut it off? The fhepherde
findinge in his nocke (I fpeake more refolutely)
a fcabbie and infefted fheepe, doth not only cut
off his legge, but riddeth him out of the way,
bicaufe he mall not infet the flocke.
Sure this fodeine matter maketh me much
mufe, fayde the Lion. For one way draweth me
to loue him, and that is the credit I repofe in
him, the long experience of his good gouern-
ment, his vertues and wifedome, and bicaufe I
neuer founde caufe in him to detect him any
way. The other thing that prerTeth me much,
is feare : which is a great burthen. I would
faine, therefore finde a way betweene both, that
fhoulde be betwixt loue and hate, or betwixt
feare
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 143
feare or truft, and this it is. To call (if thou
thinke good) the Bull, and to examine him well
and ftreightly. And if I finde him anything at
all blotted with this humor, I will chaftife him
with banimment, and neuer imbrue my handes
in his bloud, proceeding lyke a great and noble
Prince. This determination lyked not the Moyle,
as he that was fure to liue like a wretched
beaft, and that his malice by this deuife mould
appeere : and ftreight he aunfwered the King.
Your Maieftie hath euen lighted right on the
moft ftranglingft morfell, and the hardeft Nutte
to cracke : if you meane to follow that you haue
propounded. For he careth not to throwe at
his enimie, that beleeueth he is not feene : but
ftandeth to beholde if it light right. But if he
beware once he is feene, then for mame he
fticketh to his tackle, and followeth on his blowe,
leaft he Ihoulde be counted a foole and coward,
both in his doings. And by fuch like meanes I
haue oft times feene a little fparckle kindle a
great fire. O my Lorde, he that fayneth he
hath not bene offended, maye at his eafe and
leyfure be reuenged. Contrarie to thofe that
neuer bring any thing to pafle that they would,
when they fpit that out with their tongue that
they thinke in their heart. Therefore I am de
termined (if your maieftie will like my opinion)
to
144 THE THIRDE PART
to worke another and peradventure a better way.
J will home to his houfe, and as a friend I will
feele him to the bottome and grope his minde :
and he as my verie friende alfo (and that afluredly
trufteth me) will laye himfelfe open to mee, I
am fure of it. Such paffioned mindes will
eafilye break out at the firft, and they cannot
keepe it in but out it muft. They are belides
that great boafters and vaunters. For they thinke
they ftande in deede in that degree and termes
of reputation and honor that they imagine them-
felues to be in, and they make large promifes,
and build Caftels in the aire : and at euery
worde they faye they will make thee great, and
bring thee into fauor, and when time ferueth
thou malt fee what I will fay and doe both. It
will not be long to it. Well, well I know what
I fay. So that with fuch lyke Phrafes and
deuifes, it mall proceede rightly. And thus in
thefe traines appeere yet tokens euident inough
and very notable. If he haue not capacitie and
iudgement to conceyue mee, and that he euen
croffe not my meaning : I that have an ynckling
of the thing already, I will be with him in
euery corner, I will not miffe him an ynch. If
he rayfe men, what order he hath giuen, and
whether his houfe be armed or no, yea, and I
will drawe out the matter ye mail fee finely out
of
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 145
of his naughtie fantailicall head. And if he go
fo priuily to worke that I cannot fee him where
he goes, nor know what he doth, as I am fure
I know perfitely all his practifes : I will bring
him to your Highneffe, and when he mail
appeere before you, you mall eafilye finde him,
for his heade is not without feare, and his light
very dull, and he will not come to you with
that cheerfull countenance he was woont to
looke on you before. He will be verie fuf-
picious and not continue in a tale, and I know
your Grace mall perceyue his malicious and
fpiteful practife by many tokens euident ynough.
And what knoweth your Grace whether the
penne of his hart will not write all his thoughts
in his forhed ? as many times it falleth out
vnhappily, contrarie to the difpofition of his
thought that hath offended.
This fable filled the Lions heade full, and he
bade him not Howe to bringe his matters to paffe.
The Moyle when he fawe this geare woorke with
the King, and that his brayne was fwollen for
fufpicion, fayd to him felfe, No we good man Bui
is caught, we haue him euen as we would. So
forthwith without delay he went to Chiarino (the
Bull fo called) and he was as pale and melin-
cholye as it had rained on him. O your Moil-
fhip is welcome fayd the Bull : Jefu what hath
become
K
146 THE THIRDE PART
become of your Lordihip fo long ? In fayth you
haue beene longed for at the Court, that you
haue bene thus long abfent. But I doubt me
\ve fhal heare worfe than that feeing you thus
leane and miferably confumed away. But I
pray you how cometh it to paffe that I finde ye
in this wretched ftate ? you wil not maruaile I
truft I am thus inquiiitiue. For you muft vnder-
ftande the loue I beare you, and partlye the dutie
I owe you, (where I may pleafure you with my
countenaunce or au6thoritie) are not to be put in
Salt nor Oyle to doe you good, and to helpe you
if you bee in anye daunger. Leaue off this fad-
nefle of fellowfhip, and tell me your griefe, and
I will vnfolde it well ynough be it neuer fo intri
cate, and fpare me not I praye you but be bolde
of mee. Tut, giue me but halfe a looke, and
then let mee alone. With thefe wordes the
Moyle made aunfwere.
Truly faith hath left hir habitation on the
earth, and bountie reigneth no more in any land :
neyther doe I thinke your wifdome can doe more
or leffe, that the heauens and celeftial motions
doe difpofe you to. Lorde, what a marueylous
thing is this ? that to come to fame and renowne
by degrees of honor, it bringeth a thoufand
daungers with it. We neuer (or feldome) doe
well,
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 147
well, when we followe our owne humor or
counfel. And he alfo that out of the bookes of
the ignoraunt taketh forth any fentence to ferue
his turne, muft of neceflitie repent him when he
feeth his folye. All the ftories of the worlde
affirme, that a lame man can neuer go vpright.
The Sages alfo agree, that the higheft places are
moft daungerous to clyme. Therefore it is belt
euer to beare a lowefaile : not to hie for the Pie,
nor to lowe for the Crowe.
Thy talke brother Moyle (fayde Chiarino the
Bull) me thinketh it verye troublefome and ydle
and without any maner of reafon. It feemeth a
folde of wordes that the angry hart difcouereth,
and that hee is not in good peace with hys maifter.
How faye ye ? aunfwere me but to this.
My good Chiarino : thou art infpired with the
holy ghoft, the Deuill is within thee thou haft fo
rightly hit me. It is true the King is angrie and
fufpe6teth fomewhat, but not thorow me I affure
thee, nor by my meanes. Now thou knoweft
verie well the promife I made for thee, and the
beaftly othe I tooke which bindeth me in deede
to my worde : and let it go as it will, fure I will
not breake my promife with my friende that I
loue, for anye refpect in the worlde, let the
worlde
i 4 8 THE THIRDE PART
worlde runne on wheeles as it lift. Therefore I
will tell thee if thou hadft not beene warned of
it before. And hearken how.
Two Gotes my verye friendes, and of great
Judgement came to fee me, weening to bring me
pleafant newes, not knowing that we two are
tyed as it were by the nauels together being both
as one in friendfhip. And they tolde me for
certaintie that the Lion our King is marueylous
angrie, that he fmoked againe at the mouth,
making fuch verfes as the cattes doe when they
goe a catterwauling in Januarie, and in that furie,
he fpit forth thefe wordes. Euer when I fee
that Bull before me I am ready to fall for anger.
An vnprofitable body, and no goodneffe in him
at all : brought into the world but to fill his
paunch at others coft. I can not be well, he
doth vexe all the partes of me he doth fo much
offend me. Well, I will take order for this well
ynough, and fith he doth me no feruice by his
life, I will profit my felfe by his death at leaft.
When I heard thefe wordes fpoken, thou mayft
imagine whether my heares floode vpright or no,
and I could not hold but I muft needes fay.
Well, well, fuch Lordes, in faith they are lyker
Plowmen than thofe they reprefent. I fee they
ftie the Hogge to fatte him vp, and fo to eate
him. O this his ingratitude and crueltie, (I
cannot
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 149
cannot hyde it) and his fo great beaftlyneffe
togither hath taken mee by the nofe, as if I had
met with the Muftarde pot. For thofe good
qualities of thine, for that league that is betwixt
vs (although I were fure of his Graces indig
nation) and bicaufe me thinke thou are betray de,
I could not choofe but come and tell it thee.
So that good Chiarino, thou are great and olde
ynough, looke well to thyfelf, thou needeft not
be taught, thou art wife ynough, and there an
ende. Thou art paft a Steere, and a Bull full
growne, nay rather a fat oxe. But heareft
thou me, Gods my bones not a word for thy life :
for if thou doeft, all the fatte lieth in the fire,
and the pottage maye be fpilt and caft on the
Moyles backe.
Chiarino ftoode awhile on the ground like a
mazed bealt, as one that had bene drie beaten,
being fronted with fo malicious a deuife. Then
he layde his hande on his heart, and bethought
him of all his bufinefle and matters : as of his
gouernment, office, liuing, au&horitie, and regi
ment : and knowing himfelfe as cleere as a
Barbers bafen, he hit the matter rightly, ima
gining (as it was) that fome had wrought
knauery agaynft him, and fayde. Well, go to :
there is nothing breedes more occafion of mortal 1
hate
150
THE THIRDE PART
hate than the vyle and flye pra&ifes of the per-
uerfe and wicked. Our Court is full of anxious
perfons, which ftirred vp perhaps with fpite to
fee the Prince favor and lyke my feruice (being
a corefey to their heart to abide it) doe wickedly
pra&ife and deuife fuch mifchiefes. They fee
ing (as I fay) the graces and benefites the Prince
beftowed on mee, making mee honourable, and
heapyng great thinges vppon mee, doe procure
by indirect meanes to make his Maieftie turne
his copie, and me to chaunge my wonted maners.
Sure when I loke into the matter and aduife it
well, it is me thinkes a thing not to be credited
and makes me not a little to wonder that hys
Grace without caufe is thus deceyued : yet in
the ende truth I knowe wyll take place. God
will not long fuffer fuch pra6tifes. Neyther La we
wyll in any wyfe permit that a man mail haue
Judgement before he be heard. Since I came
firft as a beaft into his Highnes feruice, I neuer
did anything that my confcience fhoulde accufe
me in. But yet I haue as great caufe to bewayle
my miihaps come to me, as he that putting him-
felfe to the fea, (and might haue gone fafe by
land) was thrown on a rock and drowned : and
all through his owne feeking. All they which
bulie themfelues thus in Court, and run from
table to table, making themfelues great with
this
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 151
this man and that man, ftill whifpering in their
eares, muft (notwithstanding that the Prince
rewarde them, or that he bee very well ferued
of them, and lyke them) looke to be touched
at one time or other and vnhappilye to fall
into the Princes difgrace, and perhaps to remaine
fo a good whyle out of favour. And this onely
rifeth by thefe double reporters and tale bearers,
or by the enuie of Courtiers, which is mother of
all vyce and iniquitie. I dare boldly fhewe my
face euery where, for anye offence I euer did
the King. And if I had committed a fault
throughe ignoraunce, and not of wyll : me
thinkes I mould not be punimed neyther for
the one nor the other. The counfell that I
alwayes gaue him, hath euer fallen out well,
and to good purpofe. And if perhaps they
haue not all taken fuch effect as they ought :
he muft thinke Fortune will play hir part in
thefe worldly things. And this I faye for pur
gation of my vpright and honeft meaning to
his royall Maieftie. I am fure the Kinge will
but proceede with iuftice, following the fteppes
of the iuft : the which will laye no violent
handes on any beaft but wyll firft inquire,
whether the caufe be iuft, who are the accufers,
whether hee be a lawfull man that doth fuch
a thing, and if the qualitie of the offence agree
with
152 THE THIRDE PART
with the conditions of the accufed, wyth fuch
other lyke circumftances and ceremonies perti
nent to matters of fuche importaunce. Hee
that gathereth vnripe fruite, repenteth him of
the marring it. Beholde the fruites eaten in
Court : in the mouth pafling fweete and luffhi-
ous, but in the bodie God knoweth verie bitter
and hurtfull. Lorde, howe manye doth the
foolifhe vayne pompe of the worlde deceyue
and abufe ? I maye rightly take myfelfe for
one of thofe that fcant hath tafted of the
fhadowe of his fweetneffe, but I am euen filled
with poyfon. The heauens beget beafts, and
they ioyne togithers : but I would I had neuer
ioyned with it, fince I mall leaue it fo quickly,
foole that I was, that I coulde not knowe the
difference betwixt him and mee, and difcerne
his nature. Go you and ferue in a ftraunge
countrie a Gods name. See what difference
there is betwixt hym and mee. I muft weare
the yoke, and he muft breake it. I am borne
to labor, and he muft fit ftill. When I haue
meate giuen me I eate, and tarie not his rauen-
ing. Flies may liue abrode in the fieldes, and
yet they flye into mens eyes : fo that fometime
wyth death they paye for their coming, or at
leaft are driuen awaye with hurt and mayme.
And to conclude, I feede on the grafle, and
fill
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 153
fill mee, and hee feedeth on daintie fleihe, and
fareth well.
Thefe thy wyfe reafons O Chiarino fincke
not into my heade fayd the Moyle (as he that
woulde needes make him beleeue he gaue him
a remedie for his griefe, and prefented a cup
with poyfon). Make no more wordes, for thou
muft put to thy hande to redreffe it, and not
to lament it. For yll ftande wordes in place
where deedes are requifite. To ftiewe his griefe
fayd the Bull, and to breake his minde to his
friend, me thinkes it is partly an eafe to the
heart and a lightning of the minde to him that
is afflicted. And fo much more is this in me
bicaufe I fee my felfe in great daunger, and
like to be vndone. And although the Lion de
lighted not in my hurt which I may fuffer, (and
as thou fay ft liketh him) yet the iniquity of my
enimies notwithftanding wil fo preuaile againft
me, that the King will giue no eare to my
innocencie. And I am fure (for I fee it in the
element) that the like will fall on me, that
lighted on the Camell with an other lyke Lion :
which tale followeth, and this it is.
In Thelaida (a countrie fo called) before diui-
lion of caues were made betweene the great and
little
154 THE THIRDE PART
little beaftes, men abode with beaftes manye times
in one hole, and liued lyke brothers : and men
were then fo fcant that they coulde haue no other
men to waite vppon them, infomuch as they tooke
vnreafonable beaftes to feruice, as it is written of
Olofar King of Knaues, which at that time did
neuer other but liealongft on the ground, and was fo
lloth full that he fuffered the Snakes to come and
rubbe his feete to prouoke him to fleepe. Now
this ydle beaft dwelled neare vnto a Caue where
inhabited togithers three beaftes, to wit : A
Woolfe, a Foxe, and a Rauen. I praye yee all
what a foolyfhe fraternitie was amongft thefe
three : and it might be fayde. The beft taketh
vp the worft. This laylie knaue bichaunce got
vppe one morning betimes at Cocke crowing, and
hee fawe this that I will tell you now. Certayne
Merchaunts paffed by with a marueylous number
of Camels loden. And as a fodeine one of them
fell downe for wearineffe, not able to goe anye
further. Infomuch as the Merchaunts vnloded
him of hys burden, and caft it on the reaft, to
ech one fome, till they had it all on their backe,
agayne amongft them, and fo left thys Camell
behind them to the mercy of the wylde beaftes.
The Wolfe, Foxe, and Rauen, chaunced to come
that waye, and they fawe this poore Camell come
as one that had neuer a whole ioynt in him, and
as
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIB. 155
as it were halfe deade. The Camell recom
mended him felfe vnto them, and tolde them by
what meanes he was brought to this miferable
mifhappe. Thefe three were forie for it, and
tooke compaflion on him, and as they might
caried him to their Caue, where they refrefhed
him with fuch confe&ions, as were fitte for the
place and tyme. And thus they kept him ftill
in cure till he recouered, and patched him vp
agayne. They three feeing fo goodly a morfell
of flefh as this Camell was, thought it befl to
prefent hym to the king, which was an olde
Lion, and his palace not farre from them. The
Camell hearing them faye we will preferre you
to the Lion our Emperor, King, Prince, Arch
duke, Duke, Marqueffe, Erie, aud chiefe Lorde
ouer vs, to be his page of his priuie Chamber,
lyked no whitte of that eftimation and aduance-
ment, and woulde not vnderftande the matter.
Howbeit they made fomuch of him, and clawed
him, that they brought him on fayre and foftly
(as his pace is not faft) and he went as though
one ioynt would not hang by an other. When
hee was come to the Kings prefence, he humbly
kneeled downe, & exhibited to his grace in writing
the caufe of his coming to him, as he was before
inftru6ted by the Rauen, and kifled his hande.
The Lion hearing himfelfe called inuincible,
moft
156 THE THIRDE PART
moft puiflant, moft noble, right honorable, great
Clerke, SufFragane, and Archking, Ihewed him
felfe very gentle, thofe royall termes fo pleafed
him, and woulde not deuour the Camell as the
rauening Woolfe had beckened to him, and as that
fubtill Foxe had wincked on him : but he made
hym of hys Chamber, and treaforer of his houfe.
And moreouer, beyonde all their expectation, he
did affure him wyth fafe condu6t, and made
marueloufly on hym, ftroking him a thoufand
tymes vnder the chinne, and receyued him into
feruice. This Camell that was fedde nowe with
the Chariot horfes, and fared as they did, grew
quite out of falhion he was fo full fedde, and his
Cote was as fleeke as a Mowles fkinne. So that
they that knewe him before, and faw him then,
fpighted him out of malice, and gaue him many
an yll looke. Yea, thofe chieflye that brought
hym firft to the Court, were they that looked
moft awrye on him.
It fortuned one day that the Lion being a
hunting in a great wylde Chafe, met with an
Elephant, who beleeued and was fure hee was the
greateft beaft of the world, and looked in all and
for all to be the greateft King, as he was in deede
the greateft bodyed beaft. Infomuch as after
hote wordes, they grue to luftie ftrokes : in the
ende the Elephante ftrake the Lion into the thigh
with
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 157
with one of his teeth, that he pierfed it quite
through. So that he was forced to fet one of his
ftubbed feete on the backe of the Lion to plucke it
out, that he made him haue the fquirt for wo he
fo fqueafed him, and faid : Cedo lonis. And the
Elephant departed his waye for the kinglieit
beafl of beaftes. This battayle fell out yll for the
Lyon, fo they caried him home vpon a wheele
barrow after the fafhion of the countrie, and there
hee was ftreight miniftered vnto with fouereygne
Balmes, and within fhort time galantly healed.
The Lion continued hys dyet a while at the
Woolues prouifion, and his meales were fo
flender that he became as leane and drie as a
Kixe : that if one had put a candle light into his
bodie, it would haue giuen light as through a
Lanterne. After this foughten fraye betweene
the Lion and Elephant, not a beafte of them
durft once fturre to hunt, and the Lion him felfe
was more afrayde than before leaft he mould
meete with fuch another banket. Yet being
this leane as he was, and fuch a dearth befides,
he was forier for his feruaunts, than for himfelfe.
The Rauen, the Woolfe, and the Foxe that
were all three in maner famifhed, one day
vnder good licence and coulour they painted
thefe wordes vnto him. The benifites receyued
from your Maieftie, molt excellent Prince, before
the
158 THE THIRDE PART
the Elephant had thus mifvfed you, maketh vs
greatly to pitie your cafe. Therefore we are all
determined to our vttermoft powers to go out
to prouide you of vittayles ynough and more
than mall ferue you. The Lion gaue them
agayne wordes of Sgratis volis, and that hee
was rather bounde to them, with many other
ceremonies : yet in the ende hee prayed them if
they would doe anye thing to relieue him, that
they woulde doe it quickly without delay. Thefe
worfhipfull beailes layd their heads togither, and
confulted on the matter, and hauing imagined
many and fundrie wayes and deuifes, and not
knowing which waye to bring this geare about :
the Rauen that al wayes bringeth euyll tidings,
fayd thus. My maifters this Camell is not of
our league & fraternitie, neyther commeth any
thing neare our maners and fafhions, nor liueth
not of that that we liue of. Betides that he
is fuch a ftalking foole, a monftrous gorbellied
beaft, bigge as a houfe, and a lafie lowtilh thing :
& we are wife, malicious, valiant, and ftrong. So
that betwixt our peruerfe fantafie and his foolifh
vnderftandinge there is as much difference as
betwixt water and lande. Were it not beft to
mew the King that in this neceifitie hee myght
doe well to eate him, and the rather for that he
is verie good flefhe, and fatte as a crammed
capon.
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIB. 159
capon. If any will obied and fay he doth all
in the Court, and manigeth the whole affayres
of the Realme, O beware what ye doe. Then
may we anfwere. What lacke or myffe mall
the Realme haue of any fuch paunches ? What
wonders or feruice doth he more than others?
How faye ye, how lyke yee my opinion : faye I
not well ? Yes fayde the Woolfe. And I like
it the better bicaufe of his heigth and flature.
For I warraunt you, a good Ikeyne of threede
and fomewhat more will not meafure his length
he is fo tall, but all the better for vs. For there
is fo much meate on him that when the Lion
hath eaten all the flefhe (which will fill him,
truft to it) and taken his pleafure, the fhauing of
the bones will feme vs well eyght dayes. The
Foxe was of contrarie opinion : and wifhed rather
they mould driue a nayle in the heade of him,
to ridde him out of the waye, fo that dying of
himfelfe they were fure no bodie woulde come
and eate of him, and much leffe fufpe6t that hee
were made away. And thus fayde hee we three
mail have meate ynough to chawe on, to ferue
vs gallantly for a moneth, and fare lyke Lordes.
Tufhe as for the Lions good grace, let his King-
fhippe ihift as he lyft, neuer take thought for
him : Gods Lord is not he King ? he may take
and leaue where he thinkes good. O thou foole
fayd
160 THE THIRDE PART
fayd the Rauen, art thou fo fimple as to beleeue
that fo huge a carkas as he will dye for fo little
a pricke or hurt ? No, no, thou thinckeft thou
haft a Henne or Partridge in hande that are foone
nipped in the heade, and difpatched ftreight. I
tell it thee for this, fayd the Foxe. Sure the
King will not giue eare to it, nor heare a worde
fpoken agaynft him : and all bicaufe he gaue
him hys worde, and promifed him he would not
touch him. And what ? thinke ye the Prince
can with his honor go backe from his worde ?
no, he may not, and I dare warrant you he wyll
not. The Rauen that was the wyfeft in the
towne, and a Doctor mfurtis, like a fubtill Carin
tooke vpon him the burden, with his malice
to get out of thefe bryers well ynough, and fo
togithers they went to the Princes Pallace, and
after they had done their due negligences, pulled
of their cappes, and giuen him lona dies, they
fate them downe in their feates. The King
feeing them come to him at fo rare an howre,
beganne to playe on the bridle, and fayde to
himfelfe. O bellie, now prepare thy felfe, good
newes and God will. And turning him to the
Rauen (that was reaching with his bill as though
he would haue fpoken to the King) he aiked
him. Ah Sira, how is it with you : what faye
you to me worihipfull Maifter Carrin ? Haue
you
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE.
161
you prouided vs of vittayles as yee informed vs ?
Maifter Rauen bluming lyke a black dogge, fet
a good face on the matter, and boldly aunfwered
him.
Moft mightie Prince the Prouerbe fayth. Who
feeketh mall finde. Like as he can not fee
that hath not eyes, nor heare that hath not
eares : So wee poore wretches that flarue for
hunger, thruft vp betwixt the doore and the
wall, we I fay can not fee one another, and haue
loft all our fenfes. And being thus blinded we
cannot feeke, and not feeking yee may well
thinke
162 THE THIRDE PART
thinke that we are all ready to faint and fall
downe right. But yet we haue founde a waye
not to famifhe : and to bee plaine with your
Grace at a worde, we woulde haue you kill the
Camell, and the Woolfe, and the Foxe, and I
will be readye to affift you. He is rounde,
plumme, fatte, and as full as an Egge, fo that
he will feme you a great while, & alfo he is
none of ours at any hand, neither yet is he called
to any feruice for his richefle : for I haue knowne
him a very beggar ywis. The Lion cut of his
tale and deuice on a fodeine, and more than
halfe angrie he laid to him. Get thee hence out
of my fight thou and thy wicked counfel, vile
(linking beaft that thou art, that doeft nothing
elfe but plucke out eyes, a beaft without difcre-
tion or fayth. Doft thou not remember what I
fayd to the Camell ? Doth he not liue under
my protection and warrant ? The Rauen lyke
an olde theefe let him go on and faye his plea-
fure. And though the King grounded himfelfe
on juftice, and fought to perfourme his worde
and promife paft him, yet he ftirred not a whit,
no more than the wilde Bore amongft the thicke
bufhes and briers, nor once hid himfelfe for all
his heate and hote wordes, but took hart of grace
on him againe. And as one that knewe he
ftoode on a fure grounde, and that hee fpake for
the
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 163
the Princes profile (a good ftaffe to leane on and
make a man bolde I warrant ye, for it maketh
many a bitter fray with honor, and putteth him
oft to flight : and iuftice is more corrupted for
commoditie, than honor doth caufe it to pro-
ceede with equitie). He replied to the King,
and told him a trimme tale with thefe wordes.
Victorious Prince, your opinion is no lefle good
than iuft, and I lyke it well that your minde
agreeth with the greatnefle of your crowne : but
I ftande in great feare that this your carnell
holynefle will fall out verie hurtfull for your
Kingdome. Sure generall honeftie banilheth
from euery one murder : but priuate profile
calleth it againe. We your obedient vaffals and
fubiects, humbly befeeche your Maieftie on the
knees of our hearts, that of two hard choyces ye
will take the beft, or as they fay, of two euyls
the leaft. Caft not away for Gods fake to faue
one vnprofitable member, fo many profitable and
necefTarie members, making them vnprofitable
and not neceflary. Your life ftandeth yourfelfe
and all vs vppon, and importeth all. If he liue,
you die: if he die, you liue, and we to ferae
you. My Lorde I faye, honor for others that
lyft, but profit for your felfe. Your Maieftie
once gone, your fubiectes and Realme are lyke
to come to naught. Your preferuation is ours
alfo.
1 64 THE THIRDE PART
alfo. It is of neceflitie one Well muft be clenfed
to cleere the reft. And though in deede your
word and aflurance hath tied your handes, and
that in that refpe6t you woulde not breake iuftice :
let mee alone with the matter : I will worke fuch
a feate for him, that I will make him come and
offer himfeife vnto you and laye his necke on
the blocke, and yet he mall little thinke my
meaning. And when you haue his heade on the
blocke and cannot finde meanes to choppe it
off, in fayth you are worthie to ftarue : and then
at your perill be it for me. You fee you are
famiihed and we flamed, and howe lowe you are
brought. Follow my counfell, and I will deliuer
him you faire and fatte : fo mall ye faue your-
felfe and vs too.
The King gaue very good eare to his prefer,
and bade the Rauen hie him, yet with prouifo
alwayes his honor might bee faued, and then
worke with what arte or deceite he woulde he
cared not, handle it as he lifted, neither would
he delire to be priuie to it. The Rauen repaired
to the conliftorie with his companions, and deli-
uered them his deuife and opinion. I woulde
my maifters fayde he wee did deuife to ouertake
this gorche the Camell, for the King ftandeth in
it no more, he is confented it lhall be fo. They
all fhronke in their moulders, and helde their
heades
OF M OR ALL PHILOSOPHIE. 165
heades awrie, and referred it ouer to his charge,
as he that had made the promife to the King.
Sirs if my companie like ye, I will doe thus.
Wee muft haue the Camell with vs, that hee
haue no time to preuent the fodeine mifchiefe.
All we foure will goe togithers to the King, and
looke what prefer I make, the fame ye may
ealily make without daunger I warrant ye : And
after vs out of doubt this fat morfell will offer
him felfe to of necemtie (if it be but for good
maner only) and I trow the King wyll vncafe
him, and make him leaue his fkinne behinde
him. And when they had called the Camell,
they went togithers to the King. The Rauen,
(the cunningeft fpeaker of them all) with lament
able wordes beganne to fay vnto the king. Sir
thefe many yeares I haue enioyed my life vntill
this prefent of your fouereigne bountie, vnder
your Maiefties good peace and protection, and
waying now the extremetie of your Maieftie, it
is more than time I (hould fatisfie your goodneffe
to me in part, though not in all. But when I
loke into myne owne weakneffe, alacke I fee my
myferie great, not finding anything in me worthie
to prefent you with, or fitte for your hyghnefle.
I am forie to fee your Grace aliue halfe dead.
Alas that fuch a king mould perifh for famine.
I haue not great thyngs to offer you, and thofe
not
166 THE THIRDE PART
not worthy of your Maieftie, but yet with willing
minde I prefent my bodye to you, take and feede
my Lorde of this my poore and fimple carcas,
die not lir for hunger : for it better lyketh me to
die for you. O it is but meete my Lord, that
that which is profitable in you mould be laved,
and the vnprofitable in me loft. And here
he proftrated him felf at the Lyons feete, and
made him way for his necke and flefli, lying ftill
as he had bene deade. The Wolfe no fooner
sawe the Rauen flatte on the grounde, but alfo
with a Philicall hyftorie fayd, and repeated the
felfe fame word by word, and chopped himfelfe
ftreight vnder the Kinge, that he might take his
pleafure of him if he lyked him. This maner of
humilitie and offer lyked not the Foxe a whit,
and fteppe by fteppe he came to make his oration,
creeping as the Snake to the charme, or the
Beare to the ftake. Now when the Camell faw
him make no more hafte, he ftepped in before
him and occupied the place : and kneeling downe
he fayd. My Lord thofe that ferue faithfully
difpatch their feruice quickly : lo, I am here for
you, relieue your famine. The craftie Foxe that
ftoode aloofe fayde, although my flefhe be naught
and an vnwholefome morfell for your Maieftie,
yet you may if you lyke tafte it, and fo he looked
downe, and layde himfelfe on the grounde. The
Lion
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 167
Lion feeing thefe beaftes on the grounde like
drunken chickens, thanked them one by one,
faying to the Rauen, that his flelhe was full of
yll humors, and if it had bene good he would
haue neuer haue offered it to him : and to the
Woolfe alfo he fayde, that his was to tough to
digeft, and at once hee put his deuouring mouth
to the throte of the Camell, and fet his griping
talons on him, and tore him in peeces before a
man would haue fayde I am here, when the poore
wretche thoughte he fhoulde haue efcaped with
the reft. O God that fayth affured in wordes
commeth to bee broken in deedes : euen fo
auerice becometh enimye to all honeftie. But
the beft was, the Lyon fent the other beaftes
packing to the Gallowes and they would, for he
would not giue them a bytte to relieue them
with, fo they died miferably for hunger. Sure
a fit death to aunfwere fo wicked a life.
This tale I haue tolde thee fayd the Bull,
bicaufe thou mouldeft knowe thefe courtlike
fables, deuifes and practifes of vaine and wicked
Courtiers. I knowe them all, and I am fo much
the better acquainted with them, becaufe I fee
them daily vfed againft the good and vertuous,
and well difpofed minds. And one no fooner
maketh waye for vertue, but they ftreight fet
thornes
168 . THE THIRDE PART
thornes in his way to prick his feete. But I
will not hazard my life in going about to main-
taine the place and credite I haue about the
Prince. If the loue thou beareft me be true I
praye thee doe but giue me a watch worde how I
may faue my felfe, and helpe me with thy coun-
fell in this diftrefle, for I promife thee I cannot
counfell my felfe. And for any other to counfell
me in fo harde a cafe, I cannot fee any light at all,
bicaule me thinkes I fee fome beaftly part playde
me, and I am ready to burlt for forrowe : and the
worfl of all that I fee no ende to bring mee to
any fure hauen. So that I praye thee helpe to
faue me : and this thing I craue of thee, bicaufe
it is fitte for euerye body to feeke for his helth.
Thou haft fayd better than a Crabbe that
hath two mouthes fayd the Moyle : and furely
to feeke for thy health is but reafon, and a
lawfull excufe. For he that cannot faue his
life by force, is to be borne withall if he worke
for his life by fubtiltie or malice. Howbeit
aboue all thinges euery little enimie is greatly
to be thought on and looked vnto : now iudge
thou then howe much the great is to be feared.
And hee that will not efteeme this and beleeue
what I faye, it fhoulde happen to him that
Happened to the male and female Linnet in
making their neaft.
A
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 169
A man hath no greater enimie
than himfelfe.
Alongeft the fea fyde, in a fewe rocks and
clyffes full of wylde Herbes, certaine Linnets
were wont to lay and breede : and breeding
time beinge come to laye their egges, the Cocke
began to make his neaft there. In fo much as
the Henne fayd to the Cocke: me thinkes it
were better for vs to go feeke fome other place
to hatch our yong ones, (bicaufe this is not
certayne, and befide that perilous,, as it is often
feene) that we might yet once bring vp our
poore little fooles to fome good. What fayth
the Cock, doeft thou miflyke of this feate, and
is it fo daungerous as thou talkeft of? Here
pafle no people, here it is hote, no windes at
all, and an infinite forts of Herbes doe growe
here as thou feeft : fo that wee mall haue meate
at all times at will. O my good fweet Honie
hufbande quoth the Henne, it is not fitte for vs
God knoweth. For in fuch like feats is euer
great daunger, vppon any rage of the feas to
lofe them all, that it is : therefore I pray thee
let vs auoyde the daunger. Wilt thou doe as
the Pigeon that being afked of a Pie why fhe
returned to the Douehoufe to laye hir egges
(where
170 THE THIRDE PART
(where all hir yong ones were ftill taken away)
aunfwered : my (implicitie is the caufe and hath
euer bene of my griefe. Thou that haft great
experience and haft pyffed in fo many fnowes,
wilt thou not take it yll to bee handled likes
a Coddes head in thy olde dayes ? and that it
fhoulde bee tolde thee he knewe it, and would
not knowe it, he beleeued it not, he did it not,
and fo forth ? but the foolyfhe hufbande hauing
no capacitie to conceyue his wyues words, went
his way, and flue vp to the top of the tree, and
the more fhee fpake, the worfe heade had he to
vnderftande hir. So he ftoode ftill in his owne
conceyte, thinking hee had bene handled like a
tame foole, if he had followed his wyues fantafie.
O how noble a foole. O what a cockes combe.
All is one : me might fay what fhe would, but
he would doe as hee lifted, and follow his owne
fantafy. And fo he dwelled ftill in his opinion,
and made his neaft, and fhee layde hir egges and
hatched them. A man hath no greater enimye
than himfelfe, and that beaft fpecially that know
ing he did amiffe, did rather continue his obfti-
nacie to his hurt, than for his profit once to
accept the counfell of his wyfe or friende : And
laft of all me tolde him a tale of proteftation.
In the timings of the Sophie there was a worlde
of
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIB. 171
of Fowles that kept about it to feede of thofe
fifties,, and amongft them was a Torteife of the
water that had flreight friendfhip with two great
and fat Fowles, who diuing vnder water droue
the fiftie all about, and they no fooner appeered
almoft aboue water, but at a choppe they had
them in their mouthes. The Lake was full of
cliftes, I cannot tell howe but by certayne earth
quakes, and by little and little it beganne to
waxe drie, ib that they were faine to voyde out
the water to take out the great number of fifhe
that were in it, that they mould not die in that
drougth but rather eate them vp. The fifties
therefore of that Lake meaning to depart out of
that countrie, came one morning to breake their
faft togithers, and to take their leaue of the Tor
teife their friend. The which when fhe faw
them forfake hir, fhe wept bitterly, & pitifully
lamenting fhe fayd. Alas ! what fhall I doe here
alone ? But what thing can come worfe to mee
than to lofe the water and my friendes at one
inftant. O poore Torteife that I am, wretched
creature I, whither fhould I go to feeke out
water, that am fo flowe to go ? I like not to
tarie longer in this countrie. O good brethren
helpe me, I pray you forfake me not in my dif-
trefle. Ah vnhappie was I borne in this worlde,
that I muft carie my houfe with me, and can
put
172 THE THIRDE PART
put no vittayles into it. In others houfes alacke
there is place ynough for their necefTaries : but
in mine I can fcant hyde myfelfe. A, woe, woe
is me, howe mail I doe ? if ye haue any pitie on
me my brethren, & if ye haue taken me for your
friend, helpe me for Gods fake. Leaue me not
here to burft for thirft. I woulde gladly go with
you, and that you woulde gladly put me in fome
Lake, and I would followe mine olde trade as I
haue done, therefore deare Fowles helpe me.
Thefe wordes did penetrate the heartes of thefe
great water Fowles, and taking no lefle pitie on
hir, than looking to their owne profite, they fayde
vnto hir. Deare Mother Torteife, we coulde
not doe better than fatisfie thy defire, but alas
what meanes haue we to carry thee hence into
any Lake ? yet there is an eafie way to bring it
to pafle, fo that thy hart will ferue thee to take
vpon thee to holde a peece of wood fall in thy
teeth a good while. And then we, (the one on
the one fide of thee, and the other on the other
fide) will with our bylles take the ende of the
flicke in our mouthes alfo, and fo carye thee
trimlye into fome Lake, and there we would
leade our Hues and fare delicately. But in any
cafe thou muft beware thou open not thy mouth
at any time, bicaufe the other birdes that flie vp
and downe will gladly play with thee and laugh
to
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 173
to fee thee flie in the ayre, thou that are vfed to
tarie on the earth, and vnder the water. There
fore they will tell thee marueylous wonders, and
will be verie bufie with thee, and peradventure
they will afke thee : Oh pretie fhe beaft, whence
commeft thou I pray thee, that thou are flying
thus, and whither wilt thou ? But take thou no
heede to them, fee them not, nor once harken
to them I would aduife thee. And if they
prattle to thee, faying, Oh what an enterprife of
birdes, good Lorde what a peece of worke they
haue taken in hande. Whifhte not a worde
thou, for thy life, nor looke not that wee mould
aunfwere them. For we hauing the fticke in our
mouthes cannot fpeake but thou muft needes fall,
if the fticke (by talke) fall out of our mouthes at
any time. Well, now thou haft heard all, how
fayeft thou ? will thy minde ferue thee, haft thou
any fantafie to the matter ? Who I r yes that I
haue, I am ready to doe anything : I will venter
rather than I will tarie behinde. The Fowle
founde out a fticke, and made the Torteife holde
it faft with hir teeth as me could for hir life, and
then they eche of them tooke an ende in their
mouth, and putting themfelues vppe, ftreight
flue into the aire : that it was one of the foolifh-
eft fightes to fee a Torteife flie in the aire that
euer was fcene. And beholde a whole flight of
birdes
174
THE THIRDE PART
birdes met them, feeing them flie thus ilraungely,
and houered rounde about them, with great
laughteres, and noyfes, and fpeaking the vileft
wordes to them they coulde. O here is a braue
fight, looke, here is a goodly ieaft, whoo, what
bugge haue we here faid fome. See, fee, me
hangeth by the throte, and therefore me fpeakeft
not, faide others : and the beaft flieth not, like a
beaft. Thefe tauntes and fpiteful wordes went
to the hart of the Torteife, that me was as madde
as me coulde bee : fo me coulde no longer holde
but aunfwere me would (at Ieaft as me thought)
and
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 175
and when me opened hir mouth to fpeake, downe
me fell to the grounde, and paihte hir all to
peeces : and all bicaufe fhe fhoulde haue fayde,
I am an honeft woman,, and no theefe. I would
ye fhoulde knowe it : Knaues, Rafcals, and
rauening birds that ye are. So that cotemning
the good counfell was giuen hir, or to fay better
bicaufe fhe woulde not beleeue them me payde
hir folly with death. And now I returne backe
againe whence I came.
The Birde loft hir yong ones bicaufe the fea
rofe high, and the furging waues caried them
quite awaye. Now bicaufe me would lay no
more in any fuch daungerous place, ihee affem-
bled all hir parentage and kinfefolkes, and came
before the Crane (Queene of all Fowles) to cite
hir hufbande, and tolde hir the whole matter.
The which when me fawe the little difcretion of
hir hufband, me rebuked him, and wifely tolde
him howe great follye it was (yea rather mad-
neffe) to put himfelfe and his a feconde time in
open & manifeft daunger, being fallen into it once
already. Shewing him by example a tale of the
Curbe, that being angry with the Well ranne
agaynft it, thinking to make a hole in it, but
in fine it brake in tenne peeces. Learne there
fore fayde the Crane not to flriue with thofe
that
i;6 THE THIRDE PART
that are greater than thy felfe, if thou meaneft
not to haue the fhame and lofle. Therefore
builde thy neaft no more alongeft the fea banckes.
I thought good to tell thee this difcourfe, fayd
the Moile to the Bui, to {how thee that thou
canft not be in furetie to fight againft a Kinge,
and to prooue thy flrength. But thou Ihouldeft
go with a leaden heele : that is to fay, with
wifedome, and malice. The Bull aunfwered.
The beft way I can take in this matter me
thinketh is to go before his Maieftie, and not
to make any countenance that I am troubled
or offended, but euen after myne olde woonted
maner : and then mall I eafily perceiue whether
he haue ought in his minde againft me, and that
he ftomacke mee. If at my firft comming he
doe not to me as King Lutorcena did to Bijenzo
hys Captaine, who hauing him in fome fufpicion,
with his owne handes, threw him to the grounde,
and flue him.
The Moyle liked not this determination, (per-
ceiuing hys reaching heade to preuent his mal-
lice) imagining that the King knowing his
wifedome, and feeing in him no alteration,
would ftreight thinke himfelfe abufed, and then
were he vtterly mamed and vndone both. There
fore fearing his fault hee fayde vnto him. My
Lorde
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIB. 177
Lorde Chiarino, and brother deare (I will giue
thee a watche worde to ferue thy turne at neede)
when thou fhalt come before the Kinge, if per-
chaunce thou finde him very fufpicious, and that
he caft his deadly eyes on thee, and bende his
fhort eares, ftanding vpright to heare what thou
fayeft, or if any worde thou fpeakeft maketh him
caft vp his heade, or hang it downe : then (truft
me) beware of him that he playe thee not fome
part, therefore carie thy eyes before thee, and
looke to his fingers, and ftand to thy defence
lyke a worthie Champion. For when he fhall
fee thee prepare thyfelfe with fworde and buck
ler to refill him, euen at that inftant he will
chaunge his mind : and fo by this meanes thou
malt fee what he will doe. The Bull tooke his
(as friendly) counfell, & went forthwith to the
Court. The Moyle alfo departed from him, and
with great ioy flingeth to the Affe his brother,
and tolde him I haue difpatched this matter. I
haue done his errant I warrant him. I knowe
he knoweth his payne by this time, feeft thou ?
Well I fayd and did fo much, that at the laft
I brought him to it. And though I had great
labor to bring it to pafle, yet better late than
neuer. My fubtill and malicious praclifes at
length yet are brought to good purpofe I
thanke God. Oh what fame ihall I get, Ihe
mall
M
1 78 * THE THIRDE PART
mall be full of eyes though I haue feene light.
Sounde thy trumpet once Ladie Fame through
all the countries round about, farre and neere :
and if my praclife fall out right, thou neuer
foundeft in thy life fo goodly a double treafon.
O what a perfite counfellor mould I be, how
trimly coulde I bring a fpoufe to bedde ? be of
good cheare brother, the Bull perfwaded by me
goth to Court to feeke out the King, if he fee
him fturre any thing at all j and the Lion alfo
hath my Coccomber in his bodie, and in his
heade the toyes and deuifes that I haue tolde
him, looking for the Bull with many an yll
thought. Now beginnes the game. I haue fo
cunningly handeled this matter betweene them
both, that one of them I holde ye a grote will
leaue his fkinne behinde him, part it betwixt
them as they lift. But I that haue my feete
in two flirropes (as God would haue it) am
fure inough from falling. Let them trie it out
by the teeth and homes, I will faue one I
warrant thee. I will ftande and giue ayme.
When .the Bull was come to the King's
prefence, and that he faw his head full of
fufpicion, and perceyued in him thofe lignes
& tokens that trayterous villeyne the Moyle
had tolde him imagining prefently the Kings
pawes on his backe, and his mouth on his
throte
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 179
throte, rememberinge the Moyles peftilent coun-
fell, he ftoode ftreight to his defence. And the
King on the other fide fuppofed he went to
aflault him, and being informed before by the
Moyle hee thought it fure fo, and that it was
true that the Moyle tolde him : therefore with
out any farther daliance, or tarrying his meaning,
he rowfed himfelfe, and on him he goeth, fo
that they began a fierfe battayle, howbeit in the
ende the olde Lyon wearied the Bull, that he
laye deade before him, for fuch is the iuftice
amongeft the Nobilitie and wormipfull Courtiers
of beafts. And yet though the Lyon was ftronger
than the Bull : dealing wyth defperate perfons he
had but a bloudie viftorie. The cafe was fuch,
and fo fodeine, that all the Court was full of
ibrowe, and the more for that it happened vn-
looked for, and neuer a worde fpoken of it
before : fo that they were all by this chaunce
ftricken with a marueylous feare. The Afle
being informed of the terror of the matter was
very heauy, and angry with his brother, info-
much as he fayde to him : O curfed brother,
thou haft done a horrible and wicked fact. Haft
thou not almoft brought the Kinge to deathes
dore, caufed thy friend to be flayne, and put
all the Court in feare, daunger, and forowe ?
and woorft of all, thou haft loft thy credite and
good
i8o THE THIRD E PART
good name, fliamed thyfelfe, and for euer be-
famed thy houfe and parentage. And if thy
wicked practife were knowne,what fhould (think-
eft thou) become of thy life ? Oh caytyfe wretch.
I faye no more Moyle, but marke the ende, this
mifchiefe will fall on thy neck, and thou malt
gather of thy naughtye feede thou fowedft,
naught elfe but prickes and thornes. For thy
barren and drie grounde can bring forth nothing
but Burres and Brambles. Gods diuine iuftice
will not fuffer fuch and fo wicked a dede vn-
punilhed. And though prefently it lighteth not
on thy heade, the deferring of it will ihowe thee
howe much the whip with time doth growe.
Oh brutifhe creature thou : neuer to feare God,
nor to loue thy neighbour, but alwayes to follow
thyfelfe, and to purfue thy beaftly minde wyth-
out regarde ? thou mayntayneft thy ambition, &
wyth that thou wouldelt fubuert and ouerthrow
a thoufand Realmes.
The trayterous Moyle hoong downe his heade
all the while, and knewe well ynough that it
was true the Afle fayd, and that he mifled not
much the marke, yet he helde his peace, and
would not aunfwere one worde. So the Afle
followed on his tale, and came againe to the
matter. I fee my wordes but loft, and worke
fmall effect : and I am fure there is no rebuke
more
OF M OR ALL PHILOSOPHIE. 181
more caft away and blowne into the winde,
than that that is giuen him, that is neyther
capable of it, nor honeft and iuft? nay rather
feareth no punilhment for his peruerfe and
wicked works. It mall doe well therefore
(though I be but thy brother by the fathers
fide) to take care of thee, leaft I mould fall
into that that a little Popingey fell into with
an Ape of Soria.
It looteth not to giue counfell
where it is not followed.
Betwixt Dalmatia and the Realme of Granata
there is a marueylous great valley full of high
Firre trees and Pineapples. It happened once in
y e winter feafon that there went a mole of Apes
togither from one countrie to another, and the
night ouertooke them alongeft thefe trees, fo that
they ftoode there cracking of thefe Pineapple
kirnels, determining to take vp their lodging
there for the night. But bicaufe the night was
fomewhat colde, they blewe their nayles and
chattered their teeth apace. In this meane
while one of the Apes had fpyed a Glowe worme
in a hedge that mewed like fire : and beleuing
it had bene fire indeede, they ranne all to fetch
ftrawe, ftickes, and drie Pines to lay vppon hir,
being
182 THE THIRDE PART
being verie defirous to warme them. And when
they had layde on all this wood on the backe of
hir, they beganne to blowe, and to lay on lode
to kindle the fire ; but all in vayne for the deuill
of ilycke or flrawe once fmoked much lefs burned,
fo that they were ready to goe madde for anger
they could not warme them. Certaine Popin-
geyes dwelt in thofe Firre trees, the goodlieft
Birdes in that countrie. Whereof one of them
behelde the fimplicitie of thefe Apes at leaft three
howres, how they laboured and toyled for life
about Moone mine in the water: So that he
mooued with pitie and companion towards them,
came downe out of the tree, and tolde them.
Good wyfe Apes, it grieues me to fee your follye
and great labour, and quite without profite, that
ye are fo madde to beleeue to fet a fire thofe
ilickes with that mining Glow worme. Alacke
poore fooles, yee lofe your winde and time both,
befides that euery body that feeth you will thinke
yee verye beaftes in deede without wit. For the
thing that ihineth fo is not fire in Gods name,
but it is a certayne Worme which naturally hath
that vile mining at his tayle, fo that ye are de-
ceiued truly: therefore yee were beft take another
way if ye meane to get heate. One of the me Apes
no lefle tattling than obftinate, commeth towardes
him, and putting hir hande by hir fide, fhee
aunfwered
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE.
183
aunfwered him, lyke a madde, prowde, Bedlem
foole.
Oh ydle Birde, in fayth thou haft but little
witte to meddle with that that toucheth thee
not. What is it to thee whether we knowe or
not knowe ? who intreated or bade thee come to
giue vs counfell or helpe ? If thou doe not get
thee hence to fleepe againe, and that quickly, I
will promife thee a broken heade at the leaft
and I turne not thy fkinne ouer thy eares too,
heareft thou me ? I praye yee fee how hee
meddles in our matters. Difpatch, get thee
hence
184 THE THIRDE PART
hence I fay, and meddle with thy Birdes with a
nmrren to thee, and let vs alone : leaft perhaps
thou wifheft thou hadft, when it will be too late.
And with that {he beganne to fhowe hir teeth,
with an euill fauoured looke withall.
The poore Birde when he faw hir make that
face to him was halfe afraide, yet leaning hir he
went to counfell the others, fuppofing by being
importunate to make them knowe their follie :
and fo he began to fee and repeate verie oft that
he fayd to the other Ape before, fo that that Ape
coulde not abyde him any longer for fpight, but
gaue a leape or two to ketch him. But the
Fowle being wight of winge eafilye fcaped hir :
and fure if he had taried never fo little, and had
not flowen awaye fo fall as he did, the Ape had
not left a feather on his back, me had torne him.
And like to the Ape art thou, for there is no
good counfell will take place with thee, nor no
admonitions or warnings that will once make
thee beware or take heed. I fhoulde be the
obftinate Birde that fhoulde ftill go about to
perfwade thee, but in the ende I feare me that
woulde happen to mee, which chaunced to a
Pie with hir Maifter, being a fetter forth of
Playes and Enterludes.
He
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 185
He thai diggeth a pittefor others
many times falleth into it himfelfe.
A maker of Playes, dwellinge in a towne called
Baccheretto, gaue to a rich Merchant a Pie (which
one of his boyes that playde a parte euer in his
playes had brought vppe :) that had a propertie
to blabbe and tell all that fhe faw done in the
houle. This Merchant had a faire wife, which
wantonly chofe to hyde hir felfe otherwhile with
a goodly yong man hir neighbour. The hulbande
was many times told of it, and did in maner per-
ceiue fomewhat himfelfe too ; but becaufe it was
but fufpicion and no proofe (and if he mould haue
ftirred in it had not beene able to haue taken his
othe that it was true) he floode betweene two
waters, as he that was verie loth to beleeue it.
And as in fuch cafes it falleth out many times,
that the feruants and familie (for the loue of their
Miflrefle) doe depende rather of their Myftrefle
than of their Maifter, and are readyer to pleafe
hir of both. The hulbande feeking diuerfe
meanes to come to the light of this matter, coulde
neuer get out of them, but fure fir it is not fo, you
are deceyued. The good man perplexed in his
minde, not knowing what way to deuife to boulte
out this matter, remembered at thelaft that the Pye
hee
186 THE THIRDE PART
hee had in his Chamber (vponthewindowe) woulde
ferue his turne excellentlye well for the purpofe, fo
hee brought hir to his wiues Chamber, as thoughhee
had not cared for hir (meaning nothing lefle) and
there he left hir a fewe dayes. When he thought
the Meale had bene boulted, hee caufed the Pye
to be brought againe into his Chambre, and fhee
tolde him all things directly as they were done,
fo that he determined to punifhe hir lewde life.
But as many doe, whome loue doth no lefle ouer-
come than pitie, he let it alone yet many dayes.
All this while he hong vp the Pie in hir cage in
the hall, and at night made hir be fetched in, and
then he knewe all that was done in the day from
point to point, & what had happened. Who
was there, if hir Miftrefle went abrode, how many
poundes of Flaxe the Maides had fpunne, and how
many times the feruants had fet on the Flaxe of
the Rock and pulled it off againe : when, what,
and how. O what a vile craftie Pye was fhe.
The poore Maydes of the houfe neuer thought
fhe coulde haue tolde any thing in the worlde,
nor made any reckening of hir at all. The huf-
band at the firft, began ne to groyne and lowre,
and to caft forth certayne wordes and Parables to
his wife, the which feemed not to vnderftande
him, though ihee knewe his meaning well ynough,
and fufpeded that fome of the houfe had opened
the
OF M OR ALL PHILOSOPHIB. 187
the matter. Howbeit, not able to burthen anye
one particularly, bicaufe fhee woulde be fure not
to miffe, fhe flatly fell out wyth them all, and
tooke on with them to badde, brawling and fcold-
ing vp and downe thehoufe lykea madde woman
all the day long. In continuance of time,
whether it was that they ftarued the poor Pye, or
how the goodyere it fell out I know not, but the
Pye had founde hir tongue & fpake plainely
to them, and fayde : giue me fome meate, or I
will tell my maifter. When they hearde hir
prate thus, imagine you what fport the women
had with hir. And bicaufe ihe was a beaft, out
me tattled at once all that fhe knewe of the men
as well as of the women : fo that fhe tolde them
how hir Maifter would afke hir how they vfed
hir, and what they did, and counterfeited his
faihions and ieftures rightly, afking queftions, and
aunfwering hir felfe, euen as if hir maifter had
bene prefent to haue afked hir.
The Myftrefle and Maydes gladde they had
found out the tale bearer, they came about hir
with a light, and fhut to the windowes, and with
vifers on their faces, difguifed they daunced fuch
a MorefTe about her with Glaffes, Fire, Water,
and founding of Belles, beating on the bourdes,
fhowting and whooping, that it would haue made
the wheele of a Myll deafe, it was fo terrible.
And
188 THE THIRDE PART
And after they had done this returning euerything
to his place and openinge the Windowes as they
were at the firft there they left hir alone, and
woulde giue hir neuera bitteof meate. When the
Merchant hir maifter was come home, and that
he caufed the Pye to be brought into his Cham
ber, {he beganne to lay out hir tongue at large,
and fayde. O Maifter I haue had an yll night
todaye, there hath bene fuch rayne, tempefts,
and fuch noyfes, and I haue feene a number of
Pyes pafs by my Cage, but none of them all
would tarie with me. O what a foolifh time was
it : and yet in a moment the winde and water
ceafed, and fo it was daye againe. Bid them
giue mee fome meate that I might dine, for it is
eight aclock and I am a hungered. The Mer-
chaunt when hee heard hir fpeake thus foolifhly
and tell thefe fables, he thought they were but
toyes in hir heade, and that fhee talked at pleafure,
nothing touchinge hir Miftreffe matters, and fo
let it paffe for that tyme. One nyght the Mer
chant determined to lye out, and fo he did, and
left the Pye in his wyues Chamber. As foone
as it was darke his wife fent for hir Louer, and
ftreight caufed the Pye to bee taken awaye (hir
Cage couered ouer) and caried into a Well : and
when he that caried hir had let hir Cage downe
a pretie deale into the Welle, he vncouered it
againe,
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 189
againe, tying it faft at the toppe of the Well for
falling into it, and being Moone light the fame
night, the feruaunt departed his waye without
fpeaking to hir, or feeing hir, and fo let hir
hange. A little before day the good wife of the
houfe made the Cage be couered agayne trimlye,
and brought into the Chamber, and fo vncouering
it in the darcke, fell afleepe againe (hir Louer
being gone) till brode day. The Merchant came
home betimes in the morning before funne rifing,
and went ftreight to the cage in his chaber. The
Pie that hong in the Welle al night, and knew
not in what place fhee was in, nor what houfe it
was, would very gladly haue tolde hir Maifter
all, and thus ihe began. Maifter the Chamber
was carried quite awaye tonight, and I was in a
great round Glaffe with water at the funnefhine of
the daye, all night long almoft, and then the Glaffe
and Cage was remoued, but I cannot tell whither :
and fo God gyue you good morrow, Maifter.
Nowe God giue thee forrow (quoth the Mer-
chaunt) wicked beaft that thou art : for throughe
thy foolyihe wordes I had well nere paide my
pore Jone on the Petticote for thy fake. And
with that he ranne to the bed and imbraced his
wife and fweetely buffed hir. His wyfe that
fawe hir time had come now to be reuenged, and
to free hir felfe of hir hulbandes conceiued iel-
oulie
igo THE THIRDS PART
oufie, caufed the flouenly Wittall her hufbande
to tell hir all the Pies qualities & tales ihee had
brought him : which when fhe had hearde, out
on hir whoore quoth fhee, kill hir yll fauored
harlottry, what meaneft thou to kepe that foolilh
Birde ? Hir hulband being rather in a rage than
well pleafed, bicaufe he would not gladly haue
knowne that that his wife had tolde him. Toke
the cage and Pie and thrue hir out at the window,
& with the Fall the pore wretch died out of hand.
Therefore none muft intermeddle in thyngs that
belongeth not to them, neyther in wordes nor
deedes to goe about the deftruction of any. For
hee that diggeth a pit for others, many times
falleth into it himfelfe.
The Sea Crabbe difpofed to play with a Foole,
was contented to be ridden of him, but he like a
Cockes combe (not knowing fhe went back worde)
put a Bridle in hir mouth, and it went to hir
tayle, and fpurring hir forwardes, the Crabbe
went backwardes. I am a foole (quoth the
foole) to thincke to doe well with thee, lince I
know not thy nature nor condicion. Now liflen
what chaunced to an vngracious traueyler, and
then conlider well of the matter.
Twoo men of the Mamaleckites traueyling by
the
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE.
191
the way togithers, founde a great bagge full of
Golden Wedges, and fo ioyntly togithers they
agreed to take it vp determining to carie it to the
Citie, and to laye it vp fafe in their lodgings.
But when they were come to the walles of the
Citie, they altered their mindes, and one of them
fayde to the other. Let vs diuide the treafure,
that ache may carie home his part, and doe
withall as he thinketh good. The other that
was refolved to fteale it, and to haue it al to him-
felf, meaning to eafe the good honeft man of his
part, aunfwered ex tempore for his profite. Mee
thinketh
192 THE THIRDE PART
thinketh good brother it is not meete that our
happe mould be common, and the friendmip per-
ticular : but lyke as we met in pouertie, fo let us
ioyne in richefle. Therefore for my part I will
not deuide it, but we will enioye it friendly to-
githers, and the good happe that lighted euenly
vpon vs. Howbeit for this time (if thou thinke
good) let vs take a peece out to feme our neceffi tie
with, to defraie houfeholde expences, and other
extraordinarie charges : and for the reaft, it mail
not be amiffe if it runne in common betwixt vs,
and we will hyde it in the darke in fome fecrete
place fo as we maye from time to time (alwayes
as we nede it) take of it at our pleafures. The
good fielye man (I will not fay foole) did not
thinke of his pretenfed fubtiltie, and that hee
went about then lyke a falfe Knaue to deceyne
him, but tooke him for a playne meaning man
lyke himfelfe,, and fayde he was contented it
fhoulde be fo. So for companye they tooke eche
of them his burthen and the reft they fafely buried
vnder the roote of an olde Elme, which the poore
neyghbours that dwelled by called vile Knaue, and
fo with the little burden of their neceffarie ex
pences, ech of them repayred to their lodginges.
Within three houres of the fame night the com
panion that gaue counfell to leave it abrode, went
to the place of the hidden treafure, and fecretely
caried
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 193
caried it home with him. When tyme had con-
fumed the honeft man's money, hee went to the
theefe his partener, and fayde to him. Brother I
woulde gladly haue the reaft of my part of the
golde that remayneth behinde, let vs goe there
fore I pray thee togithers as wee togithers did
fynde and hyde it, and we will bring it home
betwixt vs : for I aflure thee I am in great neede.
Of mine honeftie well fayde (quoth the theefe his
companion) we are happily met : for I was euen
nowe thinking of that thou telleft me, and I pro-
mife thee I was comming to thee of the fame
errant. But now thou art come, in fayth wel
come, thou haft faued me fo much labor : come
on, gowe, let vs take our horfes and awaye, wee
will not dwell long about this matter, I trowe,
we will handle it fo nimbly thou malt fee : and
then we mall Hue merilye without anye care
or thought, and neede not feare robbing. Now
when they were come to the vyle Knave (the
Elme fo called) where they had buried their
treafure, beinge a great and hollow tree, they
began to digge for it, but in faith they might dig
vnder the tree till their hartes aked, as deepe and
as farre as they lifted for the treafure was flowen.
The theefe then played the Harlots part rightly,
that weepeth and lamenteth to the honeft woman,
and beganne to tell him there was no more fayth
in
I 9 4 THE THIRDE PART
in friends, and that loue was loft. Truft that truft
lyft, for by the Mafic I will neuer truft agayne.
And when hee had often repeated this, hee be-
ganne to throwe away his cappe, to crye out,
and beate himfelfe, that he was lyke a madde
man, nay a very bedlem in dede. His fellow
hat was fo naturall, though he were fomewhat
lyke a Mome, woulde not bee lowted fo, but
rather laughed to fee his Knauerie and crafte
thinking notwithftanding that he had ftolen it
(as he had in deede) but yet hee ftoode in doubt,
laughing ftill. Then the theefe raged like a
beaft (as if he had reafon on his fyde) and fayde.
None, no none but thou traytor, theefe, and
villen (as thou art) coulde fteale this. The fiely
man that of both had caufe to complayne (all
hope taken from him to recouer his part) in
fteade of acculing him, it ftoode him in hande to
excufe him felfe, and to fweare and forfweare :
faying I cannot tell of it, I faw it not, I touched
it not, neither did I once think of it till now.
But tut al would not ferue or ftaye the theefe,
but hee cried out more and more (and that
alowde) and called him al to naught, Oh traytor,
oh flaue, and micherlye theefe, who but you
knew of this ? What man alyue but thou could
once haue layde hands on it? Tarie a little,
by Gods paffion I will tell my L. Mayor of thee.
I
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 195
I will doe thy errant trufl to it : and I trowe he
will fet thee where thou malt fee no Sunne nor
Moone a good while. Harken after.
This brawling and fcolding continued a good
while betweene them, in the ende they went
both to the Mayor : who after longe cauillations,
intermiflions, paremptories, exigentes, termes
vpon termes, fauors, promifes, agreements,
prayfes, compremifes, wagers, and a number
of other fuch lyke conceytes and toyes, per-
ceyued his tayle had neither head nor foote.
Then fayd my L. Mayor to pricke out the
core of this matter : when ye two hid this trea-
fure, were there any others with you, or were
yee two alone togithers ? The Knaue that had
occupied his hands as nimbly as he that played
on the Phife, aunfwered ftreight as if he had bene
cleere and honeft in the matter. My Lorde,
and if it pleafe your Honor, with your Graces
fauour, the tree it felfe and you were there and
fawe it, would witnefle the matter plainely. For
we both I am fure put it betweene the rootes of
the tree, and therefore I beleeue it will ihowe
you the hole which the theefe hath digged. If
God be iuft, I knowe hee will make the tree
tell, and as it were poynt with a finger to him
that Hale it, and fhowe you of him Sir, of him
ihat ftandeth here before your Lordfhippes good-
neffe
196 THE THIRDE PART
nefle (and my worfhipfull maifters) lyke a fteale
counter nowe, for out of doubt he Hole it. My
L. Mayor that had many times put his finger
in the fire before, as one well acquaynted with
fuch lyke matters, and that could fpie day at a
little hole, fayd, well then ye ftande vpon the
teftimonie of the tree, and feeing ye doe fo, both
you and I will be at the doing of it God willing,
and I will fift out to the vttermoft I warrent
ye, feare ye not. They putting in fureties for
their appearance, and a daye appointed for the
matter, were difmifled the Court. This deter
mination liked the theefe of life, for he had
ftreight deuifed a mifchiefe to blind my L.
Maior withall. But here I wil make a little
digreffion. He that doth his things without
aduife and counfell can neuer do well. The
counfell is euer found and good that commeth
from an olde experienced man, or at least helpeth
in fome part. It is euery wife mans part to take
counfell in things he goeth about, whereof he
is either ignoraunt or doubtfull. He that repre-
fenteth the Moyle, I hope fince he will follow
no counfell, ye mail fee him fmart for it in the
ende. For it is written. Heare my fonne my
preceptes and counfayles, but the Moile was
deafe and coulde not heare of that fide. And
nowe liften howe.
The
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 197
The theefe had imagined a mifchiefe in hys
heade, and as foone as hee was come home he
fayde vnto his father. O my good luftie olde
grey bearde. I will difclose a great fecrete to
thee, which till this daye I have kept fecret,
fecret in my bofome manye a faire daye, and
euer buried it within me, as he that coulde finde
no time I tell thee to tryfle. But father, heare
ye. To be plaine with you, the treafure I afke
of my companion, I myfelfe haue ftollen it, that
I might the better releeve thee in thy olde age,
and alfo farther and aduance my poore familie,
a thing that thou and I both long time haue
delired. I thanke God, and my wife forefight
(I mould haue fayd before) it goth as I would
haue it, I would wifh it no better. Now if
thou wilt be ruled, and haue the thing brought
to paffe (being alreadye in good forwardnefle)
this cheate will be ours in fpight of the Deuill.
And fo rehearfed all to hym that had pafled
betweene them before the Maior and the Bench,
and adding this withall. I praye thee conuey
thyfelfe to night into the hole vnder the rootes
of the tree where the treafure was hidde, for it
is long, deepe, and large. And when my Lorde
Mayar mail afke the tree : Quern queritis ? I
woulde faye, who caried awaye the treafure ?
then malt thou aunfwere with a counterfeyt
voice
198 THE THIRDE PART
voice : Egus. That is my companion, and thou
malt call him by his name. The old man that
was lyke vnto his fonne in euery poynt, had
reafon to holde of his fide, after ninetene shillings
to the pounde : but he aunfwered foure wordes.
Sonne it is good to be merie and wife. I care
not to take this matter vpon me, but me thinke
it is harde and daungerous. A wife man will
looke ere he leape. I feare me thofe egges will
be broken in the mouth while we are a fucking of
them. It happeneth in an howre that happeneth
not in feuen yeares. If thys geare come out, we
haue fponne a fayre threede. Coniider it wel,
milhappes are euer at hande. Howbeit, fo it
happen not to me as it did to the Birde that
would kill the Snake, I am contented : and now
heare the ftorie how me did.
In the rockes of Popolonia there was a goodlye
tree, in the which a folitarie Birde builte hir neft :
and laying fixe times, fiue of them mifcaried.
Harde by this tree, there dwelled a great and
vnhappie Snake, which (as oft as thefe little birdes
were in maner hatched and ready to fiie) crept
vp the tree to the neft, and deuoured them all,
that me was readie to burft for fulnefle. So that
the poo re Syer of them was as angry as a Beare,
he
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 199
he was fo full of choler and forrowe. One day
hee determined to afke councell in the matter,
and confulted with a Crabbe that was a Doctor
in Lilris. Hearing his learning, he faid naught
elfe to him, but come and follow me. So he
brought him to a Caue where dwelled a certayne
beaft (a companion of his) a charmer, an enimie
to the Snake for his lyfe, and tolde him his nature,
how that this beafte delighted to eate fiflie, and
made him carie a little dime full of them, and
go fcattering of them ftill all alongft till he came
to the Snakes hole. The charmer hauing the
fauor of the fifhe in the winde, followed the fent,
and when he was come to the place where the
Snake made hir neaft, in a great furie he digged
vp the grounde : and finding hir (as one would
haue wyihed it) in hir firft fleepe, hee killed hir.
But bicaufe fhee was fo well fedde, he went fur
ther groping vp and downe, fearching if there
had beene ought elfe to haue lyked him : and
hauing thefe Birdes in the winde to, he got him
vp to the tree, and deuoured them alfo.
Father you caft beyonde the Moone, and make
doubtes where none are : there is no fuch daunger
in this as you fpeake of. Too it luftilye, and be
not afrayde. I will warrant thee for an Egge at
Eafter. What doeft thou thinke I haue not
wayed
200 THE THIRDB PART
wayed the matter to the vttermoft ? forefeene it,
preuented it, looked thorowe it, and feene to the
bottome of it ? Yes that I trowe I haue. And
if I had not feene it done as I would haue it, I
would not buye the repentaunce of the lyfe of my
deare, fweete, louing and tender father. There
fore difpatche, and about thy buiinefle. The
tyde tarieth no man. Nowe is the time that in
difpite of our foes (doe the woorft they can) wee
mall haue our purpofe, and that fo trimlye, that
we mall fwime in wealth, and Hue all the dayes
of our lyfe after like Gentlemen, and take our
pleafure. So the vnhappie (rather than wife)
father, daunced after the fonnes pipe, and forth
with went and conueyed^himfelf vnder that hol-
lowe tree, tarying there all night where the trea-
fure had bene hidden.
In the morning betimes, My Lord Maior, the
Shirifes, hys brethren the Aldermen, the Recor
der, the counfell of the Citie, my Maifters the
Judges, the Juftices of peace, with all other of
my Lord Maiors and the Shirifes officers attend
ing on him, folenymly went to the appoynted
place for triall of this matter, and hauing hearde
the parties in partilus and spartitilus, hee re-
folued vpon the teftimonie of the tree, and cried
out. What ho, tree (three times) .who hath
robbed
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 201
robbed this treafure ? Then this olde man that
had lien vnder the tree all night, & had a couple
of nuts in his mouth to counterfeit the Matter,
aunfwered quickly on a fodeine the name of the
good fimple man. When the Maior heard this
thing, that within the barks of the trees there
were certaine trembling voyces put forth, it fo
amazed him, that for the time he was extaticke,
& coulde not fpeake a word : feeming to him and
to thofe that ftoode by, that it was a wonderful
and flraunge thing. And thus wondering at the
matter, to heare the voyce come out of the tree,
he was about to fay : Lorde, fee what force truth
is off. But with that thought alfo he beganne
to fufpect there was fome knauery in hande, and
becaufe he would knowe it were fo he com-
maunded they mould lay a lode of wood or two
about the roote of the tree, & when they had
done, that they mould fet it on fyre : imagining
that if there were any yll fauoured worme or ver
min in the hollownes of the tree, either he would
fire him out, or at the leail turne hys coate or
tayle. And if there were any deceyte, he knewe
by this meanes he ihould ealily boult it out : and
hauing caufed wood to be brought and layd to-
gither as he commaunded, they ftreight gaue fyre.
Now the olde man hauing fyre at his tayle like
a Gloworme, and that it began to partch him
(thinke
202 THE THIRDB PART
(thinke what heart he had) cryed out pittifully
as lowde as he coulde. Alas alas, alas. Water,
water, water. I burne, I burne, I burne. Helpe,
helpe, I am fmothered, I am fmothered. Come,
come, come. Quick, quick, quick. Open, open
for Gods fake. I die, I die, I die. And many
fuch wordes he fpake, that he made them all
ready to burft with laughing. A firra (quoth my
L. Maior) and art thou there in deede. In fayth
the fpirite is coniured now, he is fure ynough I
warrant him. And fo he caufed the fpirit to
be pulled out, that God knoweth looked lyke the
verye pi6ture of ftryfe it felfe. Whan he fa we
the poore olde Deuill howe he was drefled, at
the firft he laughed, and without any choler did
ftreyght examine him. But when the troth in
deede appeared as it was, hee payde them home
with their owne deuice, and gaue them that they
had iuftlye deferved, and delyuered all the trea-
fure to the limple honeft man. So that nowe
thou hearefl howe innocence is rewarded, and ini-
quitie punilhed. Let ftryfe go, and we mall Hue
merylie.
Thou mayest nowe turne thys tale to thee,
and make thee a fhort cloke, for in footh it is
euen fit for thy back, therefore put it on thee.
Once againe I tell it thee, that the books which
thou
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 203
thou haft ftudied are falfe, and the do&rine
naught: therefore I can tell thee they will be
throwne into the fire. And if thou followe that
doctrine, and alleage their authorities ; out of
doubt thou wilt frye at a flake, and thou and
thy Doctors will be burned togithers. All will
lye on thy neck and of thy childrens : as it did
vpon the adultereffe, and it is not long fince it
happened, as you fhall heare.
In Terra Stolida, in a place called Vallona, it
is reported there dwelled a riche Farmer, whofe
fubftaunce laye moft in great Cattle : and at cer-
taine times he droue them into other countries
to pafture, where he abode with them many
moneths. His wyfe that remayned at home,
was good and fquare, and plumme of body, hir
brawne as harde as a bourde, and that had hir
face before hir as other women : fo that a great
riche man alfo of that Countrie caft his eyes
vpon hir, and entertayned hir in that time of
vacation. And me that delighted not to be kept
at the rack and maunger, fuffered hir receipt to
runne at large, to fare more daintily. In fo
much as at the laft (linning in gluttonie) hir
breaftes grewe bigge, and hir belly rofe, fo when
time came, Ihee brought forth a goodly Babe,
which me carefully put forth to nurfe and thus
204 THE THIRDE PART
it grewe : and in fine as hir owne in deede me
brought it home and foftered it. Hir hufbande
being come home that had beene long abfent,
gladde to fee his wyfe and me (in feeming alfo)
no leffe gladde of his comming, (but Lorde what
feaft and ioye in outwarde fhowe betweene
them) they fweetely kiffed, and with louing
wordes imbraced eche other. Oh my Conye,
welcome, quoth me. Oh my dear Muffe (fayde
he) gramercy to thee. All wedlocke ceremonies
duely accompliftied : hir hufbande calling his
eyes aboute, and feeing this fayre little Boye
running about the houfe. Muffe quoth he. I
pray thee whence is thys little knaue? what
knoweft thou not Conye fayde me ? it is myne
(and this fhe tolde him as me that could cun
ningly handle him in his kinde) and fo followed
on, preuenting his tale. Doeft thou not remem
ber that three yeares ago there fell a great Snowe.
(Jefu how colde it was) and at the fame time I
remember the Rauens and Crowes fell downe
ftarke dead in the flreetes, and the little fifhe
dyed in the Welles. Oh what a colde it was,
and I tooke it in deede (God knoweth) with
throwing of Snowe balles, the yonge maydes of
the Countrie and I togithers : and I cannot tell
howe, I handled fo manye, but well I wote I
came home fayre with chylde, and I am fure it
was
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 205
was no other but the Snow, and that is fene by
the Boye, that is as faire and whyte as Snow it
felfe and therefore I called hys name Whyte.
And, bicaufe I knowe well ynough yee men are
of fuch mettall, that euen ftreight yee thinke all
the euill of vs poore women that can be, and for
that I woulde not put any ieloufie or toye in thy
head, I fent him out of the dores to nurfe think
ing afterwardes at leyfure, when thou hadft
knowne thy good wyfe, to fend for him, and
fo to have tolde thee even plainely from point
to point how the matter went, and howe I came
by this good, pretie, fweete, faire, well favoured
Boy.
Hir huibande though in deede he was but an
Affe and a dremifhe foole, was not moued a
whit at hir yll fauoured tale, nor once honge
downe his head for the matter, and made as
though he beleued hir : but he knew ftreight the
knauery of the foolifh inuention of his wife. How-
beit what for the loue he bare hir (bicaufe fhe
was worth the looking on ywis) and for that he
was but a rude fellowe to beholde, and thought
himfelfe fcant worthie of hir, and that he had
married hir, pyning away for hir fake : he thought
it better to carie fuch things in hys breft than in
his heade, and the rather peraduentare bicaufe he
doubted falfe meafure, fearing his partners yll
will
206 THE THIRDE PART
will that farmed his grounde at halfes with him :
in fine he was contented to bite it in for the time,
determining not to be at charges with other mens
children. So one day fpying time and place,
he caried out of the dores with him this little Boy
White : and fuch was his walke that the Boy was
neuer more heard of, nor feene after that. The
woman looked and looked againe to fee hir fonne
returne with hir hufbande. But feeing hir huf-
bande come home without him, Come fayth fhee
to him : I praye thee what haft thou done with
my Boy? Hir hufbande that had bought his
wyt fo deare, aunfwered hir. A fweete Mufle,
the other day vnaduifedly (I confefle it) I caried
him abrode with me, and we walked a great
whyle in the Sunne togithers, and thou knoweft
how hote it was two dayes ago (alack that I
mould tell it thee) the heate of the Sunne hath
quite difolued him. And then I founde thy
wordes true which before I hardly beleeued.
Alas poore wretch, he fodanely turned all into
water, that wo is me. His Mufle hearing this,
in a rage nong hir away, and left Conie all alone,
fo he neuer after fawe hir.
I haue tolde thee thys fable, bicaufe thou
fhouldeft know, and fee both, that all mifchiefe
and malice in the ende commeth out, & being
difclofed
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 207
difclofed, it euer receiveth the juft reward and
punifhment. What can be hoped for of thee that
haft committed fo many and fundrie yll factes,
practifed fuch wicked deedes, deuifed fuch abomi
nable practifes, and made fo many fnares to ketch
the pore Bull in, that at the length thou
broughtest hym to the axe ? And moreouer
(to giue place to thine iniquitie) haft brought
thy friende to his death, the King in daunger,
and thy poore kinsfolkes to fhame : and woorft
of all, both of you brake your wordes and pro-
mife.
Although I be brother to thee by the Fathers
fide, I maye not, nor will not truft thee an
ynche, nor deale with thee for pinnes. For he
that hurteth his friende, wyll not fpare to hurt
his brother : and he that hath once deceyued,
knoweth how to deceyue againe. But well,
once warned halfe armed they fay. I trow I
wil beware of thee well ynough. Thou malt
not colt me be fure, as the merchaunt was
colted by an euill companion of his whom he
trufted : and this once tolde thee, we will make
handes and then adue.
They faye there was a great rich Merchaunt
that had as much bulineffe as he could turne
him to : and amongeft other his fubftance he
had many a thoufande weight of yron. His
bulineffe
208 THE THIRDE PART
bufineffe falling oute fo that hee muft needes go
to Calicut, (which was a good thoufand myles
off) he gaue to his neighbour (a friende of his)
his yron to keepe till he came home. The yron
taried the maiiler many a faire day, and feeing
hee came not, he tooke his leaue, and went his
waye : but hee that had it in keeping, tooke
reuenge well ynough of his departure, and made
merie wyth it. The Merchannt after he was
come home, went to his friende and afked hym
his yron. But he that was a flye childe, had
ilreyght deuyfed an excufe to feme hys turne,
and fayde to him. I would to God you had
neuer left it with me. For yee were not fo
foone gone, but there came euen the fame nyght
an armie of Rattes and Myfe, (drawne thither by
the fauor of the mettall) that lay continually at
it : fo that in fewe dayes, before I or any of my
houfe knewe it (thinke you that heare it how
this was likely) they had gnawen and eaten it
vp euery whit, and had not left by eftimation
vneaten, and not fpoyled, aboue foure ounces.
Now imagine you whether this yll happe went
to the ftomach of me or no. The Merchaunt
hearing fo lowde a lye, could fcant keepe him
from laughing, though inwardly it grieued him :
& yet foothing him, he made as he beleeued
him, and fayd. Sure it is a marueylous matter
howe
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 209
howe this fhould come to paiTe ; and but that
I heare you fpeake it, I woulde neuer beleeue it.
For doubtlefle it is one of the woonders of the
worlde. A ihame take him that folde it mee. I
cannot be perfwaded but that he noynted it with
lome oyle, or gaue me fome of that foft yron
that is made of the water of Steele. But well,
let the yron go where it will, and all my ylles
withall, although it bee of no fmall weight. I
tell you truly I loue you fo muche that I make
imall reckoning of my lofle, but rather I allure
you I think it well bellowed, fyth the wicked
Rattes yet had fomewhat to enterteine them with,
and that they pardoned you and your familie.
For ye may well know, that fyth they did eate
the yron, they had the Woolues difeafe in them :
and if that had not bene in the waye to haue
relieued them, by my faye you had fmelt of it.
But fince it is gone farewell it, no more wordes,
as Cobbe fayd to his wife when his heade was
broken.
This craftie fellow (but not fo fubtill as he
tooke him felf for) reioyced at thefe wordes,
fuppofing the Merchaunt had pafled no more for
the matter, and fo was pacified : wher vpon he
did conuite him the next day to dinner to him,
and the Merchaunt accepted his bidding willingly.
Howbeit he fludied all night to ferue him as
good
210 THE THIRDE PART
good a turne, and he coulde at leaft, to be re-
uenged at once of his lofle and mockes, without
complayning to the Juftice of his wrong : and
fure he fhowed him a right Northfolke tricke,
and this was the ieft.
The Merchaunt fent for to dinner to hys houfe
that had ftollen the yron, went thyther ilreight,
and was marueylouily feafted and made off (but
in deede of his owne coft) howbeit the beft plea-
fure of all was, the Merchaunt made verie much
of a pretie little Boye, and he was the onely fonne
and heyre of him that had bidden him to diner :
and ftill he fed the Boy, and made him great
cheere. After dinner playing with his fonne,
and makinge much of him as I tolde you before,
promifing (as they doe to children) many goodly
thinges : whyleft the father began to nodde and
to take a nappe, the Merchant made the Boy be
caried to a neighbours houfe of his, and there he
hid him. The father when he awaked, went
forth with the Merchant, attending their bufi-
neiTe, and thought nothing of his fonne, as he
that was wont to go forth without any fuch care.
So comming home at night, and not finding his
fonne, out he went all about the towne to feeke
him, and fpared not to afke euerye bodye that he
met if they faw his fonne. At the laft by good
happe hee ftumbled on this Merchaunt, that in
deede
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 211
deede had ftollen him (as the other had ftollen
his yron before) and being in great perplexetie
he forowfullye afked him of his fonne. The
Merchaunt, all things framing as he wifhed,
(failing the giving of his yron to hym to keepe),
aunfwered ftreight. Yes marrie, I remember I
fawe (not long lince the winde rofe fo great) a
lielye Sparrowe catch a little pretie Boye by the
heare of his heade, and in that whirle winde mee
fnatched him vp, and caried him quite away into
the ayre : and fure by your wordes mee thinkes
it mould be your fonne. Therefore feeke him
no more, for by this time he is in heaven, it
is fo long agoe I sawe him taken vp from the
grounde. The father hearing fo impoffible a
thing, beganne like a madde man to crie oute,
and fayde, O heaven, O earth, O yee people of
the worlde : gyue eare vnto this ftraunge and
wonderfull cafe. Who euer heard fuch a thing ?
Who euer fawe fo ftraunge a fight as to fee little
Sparrowes carie children into heauen ? Are
Children become Chickens or Sparrowes Kytes ?
What, fayth the Merchaunt, you feeme to haue
little practife in the worlde, fyth ye remember
not that an Eagle hath taken vp a man and caried
him quite away. But Lorde what nedes this
wondering : I marueyle at you aboue all men,
fyth you are vfed to fee greater woonders and im-
poffibilities
212 THE THIRDE PART
poffibilities than this. For you haue feene Rattes
and Myfe gnawe yron, and eate it when they
haue done : and I that did but heare it only of
your mouth, marueiled not a whitte. By thefe
woordes his falfe friende knewe what he ment
well ynough, and imagined (as it was) that to be
reuenged for his yron he kept his fonne. And
feeing no other remedie, fallinge downe at his
feete, he afked him forgiueneffe for God's fake,
and put him felfe into his handes, promifing he
woulde reftore him his yron agayne, and make
him amendes for all his loffes. And thus hee
came by his fonne agayne, which otherwyfe hee
mould neuer haue heard of.
By this that thou haft hearde (layd the AfTe
to the Moyle) of the yll Companion thou ihalt
know what thou mayeft hope of booties gotten
with deceit : and confequently what thou mayeft
looke for of the King, whome thou haft deceyued
and betrayed. Which by fwiftneffe of Time
(that fhortly pafleth ouer many yeares, and that
alfo is father of Veritie) cannot nor will not fuffer
hir to be hidden by any coloured fraude or deceit.
So that he will difclofe all by mouth of Veritie
vnto the King, telling him of thy wretchednefle :
and the matter being knowne, thou malt bide
the bitter punimment, and he will be reuenged of
thee for the Bull. To this aunfwered the Moyle.
There
OF M OR ALL PHILOSOPHIE. 213
There was a faire woman in loue with a
Pothecarie, and fhee could neuer haue leyfure
(becaufe hir hufband kept hir ftreightly) once
to fpeake with him, or with any others to let
him knowe it. One night hir hulband euen
fodeinly being verye ficke, was compelled for
prefent remedie to fend his wyfe in hafte to
the Pothecaries. So thither me ranne with
al fpeede, and infteade of returning with the
medicines, fhee whipped at a trice vp into the
Pothecaries chamber to conferre with him of
fecret matters (you know what), and as fhee
was running vp {he cafl hir handkircher with
hir money downe on the fhoppe bourde to the
Boy, and bade him make ready the medicine
in the meane whyle. The Boye that had an
eluifh witte, vndidde hir handkircher, and toke
out hir money, and pretily tied it vp againe,
hauing filled hir handkircher with the dufl of
the ftreete, of purpofe to mocke hir, to let hir
vnderfland, that they that came in hafle for
ficke folks did not vfe to fport them at leyfure
on that fafhion : and fo laid downe hir hand
kircher againe on the bourde where he found
it. When this woman had well paide the Col
lector vpon hir receit, and that me faw fliee had
bene fomewhat to long in hir account : me came
down from the Pothecarie, matched vp hir hand
kircher,
214 THE THIRDE PART
kircher, and ran home as {he had bene feared
with fome yll thing. But finding hir hulband
fleping (the extremitie of the paine hailing left
him) me fate downe foftlye by the beddes fyde,
and opening hir handkircher, founde hir money
turned into verye earth and duft. And euen at
that inftant hir hufband awaked, who bicaufe he
knew not how long he had flept, he could not
tell whether his wife came quickly againe, or
taried long: and cafting his eyes on the duft
and earth which ihee was looking on, (as mee
that knew me was mocked) he afked hir. What
duft and baggage is that thou haft there ? what
are ointments and medicines made of that fa-
ihion ? his wyfe ftreight found his malice, and
aunfwered foolifhly.
I running haftilye from certaine that were
fighting in the ftreetes, my money flipt out of
my hande, and being very darke I fought to
take it vp, and fo with my handes I tooke all
that I coulde finde, thinking with myfelfe in
taking vp the duft to get vp my money too 5
but wo is me, it is fure all gone, and with
that burft out in teares. The hufbande (imply
beleeued hir, and giuing hir other money fent
hir thither againe : and fo with this fecond
commodotie me fully accomplifhed hir delyre,
and fweetly payde the hire of hir pleafure.
Why
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 215
Why then doeft thou thinke with other new
and ftraunge deuifes yet to occupie the Kings
heade ? I befech God he may once pay thee
home. But I would aduife thee, looke well
to thy felfe. For thou fhalt finde great dif
ference betweene fuch a beaft as he is, and
another foolifh little beaft that will eafily be-
leeue thee. Vnlefle thou wouldeft faye to me,
that bicaufe thou haft done the moft, thou malt
haue the leaft. To this I replie. That one
paye payeth all. And a little theft hangeth
vp the theefe for many a great robbery. I
haue fayde to thee for this time, and now
farewell.
The
The fourth parte of Morall Philo-
fophie, fhewing the ende of the
treafons and miferies of the Court of
this Worlds.
LTHOUGH yee fynde many good
reafones fpoken vnder the fhadow
and colour of beaftes without
reafon, yet ye are not to maruell
a whit: for we alfo that repre-
fent reafonable beaftes do oftentimes things with
out reafon and difcretion both. And thys is
excellent to: to fee beafts liue and worke as
men. But howe brutilhe a thing it is to fee
men lyue and governe themfelues like brute
beaftes. Ye muft alfo note in this Treatife
one thing, y* like as men fometime fay thou,
or you, worfhipful, Honorable, Noble, or Lord-
ihip and fo forth. And doe in deede many
times myfle to giue to eche man his right title
& dignitie as they ought, and is fit for eche
man's calling and vocation : euen fo thefe beaftes
alfo
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 217
alfo (for in the ende ye knowe them to be but
beafts) do erre many times, fpeaking falfe Latine,
faying thou for you, and maifter where they
ihould fay feruaunt. Therefore you may not
recken of fuch fcapes, nor loke after them,
though ye fee them ftraye a little out of the
waye, and take a Goflinge for a Goofe, and a
Crabbe for a Whale. For it is an olde rule, that
both men and beafts will fault in many things.
The Lyon therefore did amiffe to kill the Bull,
fuffering himfelfe and his iudgement to be abufed
and ouertaken, by the deuilim and fubtill prac-
tifes of the trayterous Moyle. Infomuch as
when his choler was ouer, and that he had
wreaked his anger of him, cruelly putting the
guiltlefle beaft to death : he then to late looked
backe on his bloudie deede, and repented him of
his rage, knowing he had not done well to kill
fo wyfe a fubiect, and fo graue a counfeller.
His confcience griped him at the hart to thinke
he had no lawful caufe to vfe fuch crueltie to
him. Such inwarde thoughtes drawe deepe, and
touche the quicke, and can hardly be holden in
and kept fecrete. So that the Kinges heart
burning thus, out he burft a fewe wordes, which
made the Moyles eares glowe : as that peece of
wicked flefh, that alwayes gaue attentiue eare,
and looked to be payde home. So that vpon a
fodeine,
218 THE FOURTH PART
fodeine, to take awaye thefe thoughtes from the
Kinge, and that he fhould not thinke to much
vppon them, belides that to continue him ftill in
his errour : he ranne to the court, and downe he
fell on his knees before the Kinge, and with
all humilitie he fayd. Moft mightie and noble
Prince, thou haft brought thy defires now to an
ende. The Gods that day did blefle thee, in
which they gaue thee honourable vi&orie, when
thou ouercameft fo great and ftronge an enimie.
The worlde, victorious Prince, woondereth, that
thou hauing (I meane) caufe to reioyce art fo
fadde and full of penfiveneffe. Oh fayde the
Lyon, when I thinke of the cruell and violent
death of Chiarino without caufe, I am ready to
eate my fingers for forrow. And continually I
thinke of the great wit he had, of his graue and
prudent counfell, indowed betides with many
noble gifts and maners. And to conclude, I
muft tell thee plainely, I cannot comfort my-
felfe, nor be in quiet, when I examine the caufe
of his death. For many things runnes in my
heade to perfwade me that things were otherwife
than I tooke them, and that he had wrong. But
nowe I knowe, that that my father fayde fo oft
is true That a thing oft thought vpon, can feldome
mifle but it falleth out true.
Your Lorshippe (fayde this wicked Moyle)
{houlde
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 219
fhoulde not thus forow and bewayle the loffe of
him, which made thee lyue in continuall feare
and torment. For wife Princes oft times doe
both punifhe and cut off many worthie perfones,
and thofe whom they dearely loue and efteeme :
and why? all for their owne fafetie, and the
preferuation of their Realme. And Sir of two
euils they choofe the leaft : to kill one, rather
than to make a thoufand die. So here is an
example. Doe ye not fee my Lord when one is
bitten with a venimous ferpent, that ftreight he
cutteth off the member that is bitten, not fuffering
it to infect and poyfon the whole bodye, by
meanes whereof he faveth his life, which elfe
hee mould lofe ? The Kinge feemed to graunt
him, and the Moyle thought thefe wordes had
cleared the Lions hart, and he craftily made
much of the worfhipfull Moyle, and like a
brother intreated him. The Moyle fate him
downe on a forme in the Chamber of prefcence
a whyle, and began of himfelfe to think vpon
the miferie of Princes of light credit, and of the
malice of thefe vile tale bearers, which fet ftryfe
and contention betwixt partie and partie, of
their tyranie, of their opinions, and fonde fanta-
lies, in thys maner.
Large, great, wonderfull, and infinite are the
wayes to offende, and innumerable are the mares
and
220 THE FOURTH PART
and devifes that one wicked and naughtie difpofed
perfon may deuife and fpread abrode, to ketch a
good and true meaning man, to ouerthrow him
quite. And there is not fo ftraight a friendfhip
but is eafie to be broken, with the hand of
naughty proceeding. As I have proued it. If
I coulde write all the thinges that haue happened,
the tales that have bene tolde, and the long wouen
cloth : I mould teache Princes howe they fhoulde
doe in all their matters, and woulde make them
fee the difcretion that many have loft, and what
waye they mould take not to fall into thefe
Courtly flatterers. Thofe that beare office, and
haue charge ouer others, ought diligently to
fearche out the troth of thinges : and not to goe
as Flies without heades, and lightly to turne and
chaunge as the wauering weather Cock with
euery winde. Truely it is a fowle fault in meane
men to giue eafie eare to flatterers, but in great
perfons it is a farre greater fault, and in Princes
chiefly a thing of moil detect and ilaunder, and
of extreeme crueltie.
Nowe I come to knowe plainlye, what a great
burden is layde on the peoples backes, that are
gouerned by a Prince of fmall confideration and
iudgment : and in what daunger their perfons
are, befides the griefe their confcience giueth
them for their ftate. O poo re people, how
many
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 221
many thoufandes of ye recommended under the
fcepter of fuch iuflice ? Ought not Princes to
be like vnto God ? and if God will take account
of all things at his will (be they neuer fo little)
why fhoulde not the Kinge among his fubiectes
alfo doe the lyke ? The wickedneffe of minifters
and officers (if fo it were) woulde not then runne
on fo farre as it doth vnpunifhed. O little faith
to God's lawes. O little labor for a man to
knowe himfetfe. Where we think goodneffe
only harboreth, thence proceedeth all vice and
wickedneffe : and where wee beleeue troth is
lodged, there fleepeth deceyt. Who would not
haue beleeued that in this court vertue had re-
mayned ? but alas here is the only Court of vice.
In outwarde lookes euerie one feemeth to carie
troth : but in the inwarde brefts is hid all dif-
fimulation and vntroth. Three thinges there
are which are vnite togithers, and mould neuer
be out of the Princes minde : To wit. To loue
God, his neighbour, and to gouerne himfelfe.
And three other thinges alfo there are for the
fubiects to obferue vnto their Prince. Loue,
fayth, and obedience. But euery one I fee hath
forgotten them, from high to lowe. This world
then being fo full of daungers and deceytes as it
is, what man is he alyue fo wyfe can keepe him
felfe from them ?
The
222 THE FOURTH PART
The Lyon returned into the Chamber where
the Moyle was, hee lycenfed him to depart, and
the Moyle with due reuerence tooke his leeue of
the King. Now the King left all alone, beganne
agayne to lament, and to repent him a thoufande
tymes that he was thus ouertaken with the
Moyles perfwaiion : and it grieued him fo muche
more bicaufe he remembered the Bulles wyfe
counfels, wonderfull behauior, and noble conuer-
fation. And to banime this inwarde conceyued
griefe, that gryed him at the heart, he lyked to
be amongft his Lordes and familiers, whom
diueriely he entertained. And amongft this rowte
was the Lybberd, one of the nobleft of bloud of
his Kynne, and him the King trufted with many
fecrete thinges of his lyfe. This Lybbarde one
daye going out of the pallace to walke, pafled
bichaunce by the houfe of the Moyle and Afle,
and hearde the Affe crying out vppon the Moyle,
and bitterlye reproouing him for that vyle treafon
he vfed to the Bull : and fo hee hearde from
poynt to poynt euerye a6te and deede he did.
With thefe wordes the Lybbard felt a thing
touch his heart as one had fpoken to him : and
bade him marke well what Gods iuftice will doe.
So that he fawe certainly the Moyle could not
long fcape the Kings wrath, and that he mould
dearely buye the Princes griefe, falling into that
fnare
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 223
fnare he had layde for many others. Nowe as
all curious fearchers doe, that deiire to heare other
mens doings, he layde hys eare to the doore, and
hearde the AfTe his brother fpeake thefe very
words vnto him. O thou wouldeft needes follow
thine owne fantalie : I coulde not rule thee. All
is well that endeth well faye I. Marke the
ende. Thou reie&edft my counfell, it fkilleth no
matter : I fay naught but mum. If any mifchiefe
light on thee, at thy perill be it : if the King doe
puniihe thee, thou haft but well deferued it, and
God is iuft if hee poure it on thee. O goodly
a6t of thine, to betraye an innocent creature and
thy faithful friende.
Brother mine (fayde the Moyle), no more
wordes. I praye thee : that that is done cannot
be vndone. And it is eafier to reprooue than to
amende. When the fteede is ftollen it is to late
to fhut the ftable dore. I knowe Chiarino is
flayne and that guiltlefle and I confefle I was
caufe of his death. But let vs leaue off this
vayne talke, and deuyfe fome waye to driue out
the fufpition the Kinge hath taken in his heade,
that he thinketh there hath bene fome trechery
vfed towards him. The Libbard hauing hearde
ynough and as much as ferued his turne, de
parted his way and hied him to the Pallace
of the Queene mother, whither the King had
ent
224 THE FOURTH PART
fent him for other affaires of his. After hee
had done his meffage from the King hir fonne,
he tolde the Queene mother al the circumftaunce
of that he had hearde, and of the rebukes of the
Affe to the Moyle, and of his horrible committed
murder. So the Queene mother and he refolued
to kepe it fecret, bicaufe they would not the
Afle mould haue anye hurt, knowing hee was
a good, honeft, playne, foolifh beaft. In the
next morning betimes the Queene mother went
to the Court to fee the Kinge hir fonne, and
finding him perplexed, and in heavy cafe, me
fayd vnto him, What aylefl thou my fonne that
I fee thee thus troubled, and that thefe many
dayes I faw thee not mery ? If it be for any
thing thou haft loft, affure thy felfe that neyther
fighes nor fobbes will once reftore it thee agayne.
This inwarde griefe doth vexe thy minde, feebleth
thy bodie, and tormenteth thee much I fee.
But yet give not waye fo farre as thou canft
not call it backe againe. Impart at leaft thy
deepe conceyued griefe vnto thy mother, and
familier friends, fuch as beft doe lyke thee. If
any helpe at all there bee, wee will all put to our
helping handes. But if ftill thou dofte burft out
thus in teares and fighes, thou wilt rather fhowe
thyfelfe a woman than a man. For fo doe
women vfe, for euerye trifle when they lifter to
bring
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 225
bring forth a teare. Perhappes it grieues thee
thou haft ilaine Chiarino. Out of doubt I can
aflure thee thou defiledft thyfelf in innocent
bloude : for without any crime, faulte, or liuing
offence to thee thou laydeft thy handes vpon him.
His mothers wordes at length drue thefe from
him. It is an olde faying, and I haue heard it
oft. Thinges loft can never bee recouered : and
this thing goeth to the heart of me. Naye fee
mother if I haue caufe to forrowe, that lince his
death, and before, I neuer hard fo much as an
yll worde of my faithful Chiarino. Sure if he
ment yll to me, it could not haue bene but I
Qioulde haue smelt it out, and it woulde haue
come to mine eares one waye or other. And
therefore to thee mother alone I confefle my
faulte, and I maye tell it thee, the only worker
of his mifchiefe was his cruell enimie the Moyle:
which with practifes, inuentions, and deuifes hath
supplanted me, and killed him, moouing me to
wrath. Ah my fonne, nowe I muft needes tell
thee agayne, thou haft bene betrayed and de-
ceyued both, and this a truftie friende hath
tolde me. The Lyon would faine haue knowne
of whom : but the Queene mother would by no
meanes at that time tell him ought. But this
me did affure him, that there was no newe in-
uention nor alteration in his Realme that fhoulde
offende
p
226 THE FOURTH PART
offende him in worde or deede : and bade him
feeke well, and in ihorte time he mould knowe
all. So the King lince he coulde at that time
get no more of his Mother, determined to
aflemble all the beaftes of his Realme, and to call
them to Parliament to confult vppon this matter,
and fo he did.
When this generall Counfell was called, where
all the great Lordes of his Realme, and the wyseft
of the Commons, with all the foldiours were
aflembled, he alfo fent for his Mother. Shee
looking all the beaftes in the face that were
prefent, and miffing the Moyle, caufed him
ftreight to be fent for. So he came forthwith.
But when he was come to the Pallace, and faw
the Parliament houfe furnimed with all the
Colledge of beaftes, then he knewe the Princes
indignation, when looking vpon him earneftly
he faw his colour chaunge, and that his confcience
gnawed him for the death of the Bull. Now
the Moyle knowing himfelfe guiltie, began to
whet his wittes, and drawing neere to certaine
of the great Lordes that ftoode rounde about the
Queene mother, hee fayde vnto them. Lorde
what ayleth our noble King ? what is the caufe
of this conuention here ? how commeth it he is
thus melancholy ? What is there any fodeine or
ftraunge accident happened in the Court, that
we
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 227
we may knowe the caufe? the Counfell hath
bene called very fodainly. The Queene mother
aunfwered ftreight. Thou needeft not marueyle
ywis at the Kings heauinefle. For thou knoweft
well ynough (hauing giuen him the caufe) his
fadneffe, which with thy fweete fugred wordes
haft giuen him bitter gall. Tell me I pray thee,
canft thou tell who was the caufe of the death
of the moft noble and worthie Knight of our
Court ? Was it thou perhaps ? But the Moyle
(as ftowte as Golyas) without any blufliing
aunfwered ftreight.
Now I know the faying whiche our olde
auncient beaftes vfed in times paft is true : and I
am out of doubt of it. That let one doe as
much good as he can, his rewarde I warrant yee
mall be little ynough, and that God onely is hee
who rewardeth and giveth recompence for anye
benifite or feruice done. O what a marueilous
matter it is, that he that liueth well in this
worlde, cannot continue to Hue well, but is
compelled to daunce after euery mans pipe : to
holde with the Hare, and runne with the Hounde.
The true heart I have alwayes borne to the Kinge
thy fonne, and founde counfell which (God I
take to recorde) I haue euer giuen him, doe not
deferue fuch rewarde. For it is knowne well
ynough that the Moyle his feruant hath delivered
him
228 THE FOURTH PART
him from many daungers, and prefent death
alfo : and refufed no traueyle for his fafetie, and
that I make his Lordfhip iudge off. Well I onely
craue of his Grace but that hee will inquire of my
life and doings. For I knowe my proceedings will
appeere better to him than is thought for : and
I woulde my troth and honeftie were openlye
knowen to the world. And for my part, if the
leaft part of that were true that is fpoken of me,
and that I were any maner of way to be touched,
his Maieftie may be aflured I woulde not tarie
an houre in the Court, and much lefle haue come
before thefe great Lords. And betides that I
woulde not thinke my felfe fure in any place of
the world wherefoeuer I were, if I had but once
receyued fuche a thought in mee, and much
Jefle if I had committed the deede. Therefore
I praye thee noble Ladie, lende not thy eares to
the wordes of enuious perfons, nor fuffer his
Maieftie to laye handes on my innocencie. For
if that feeme a ftraunge thing to you this afortiore
were a wicked fact : a fact without reafon, iuftice,
and anye maner of equitie. I doe not care to
be counted wicked in that cafe, if all the Court
doe count me fo. For God himfelfe knoweth
well the troth, in whome I only hope, and am
fure he will deliuer me from this fufpition and
daunger.
This
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 229
This Moyle in his wordes feemed to be the
beft beaft of the world, and thofe that lyke
ftraungers heard him, and knew not his Moylifh
nature (a vile traitour Moyle, a whorefon cankred
Moyle, that let a man keepe him in the ftable
.xxv yeares, and make neuer fo much of him :
in the end, for a farewell, and that on a fodeine
(when a man thinketh not of it) he will yerke
out behinde and put him in daunger of his life,)
were very forie for his trouble, and did pitie his
cafe. He that by nature was borne fubtill and
craftie, perceiuing a little parcialitie amongft
them, and that he had reafonable audience: went
about ftreight to intricate the houfe, and fo began
coram populo like vnto this, ftill drawing water
to his Myll,
A tale of the Joyners wife and the '
Painter.
There was fometime in the countrte of Cata-
logna a Joyner of Tharfia, and hee had a verye
faire woman to his wife as any that came into
that citie a thoufand yeares before hir. Thys
faire woman became in loue with a Painter, and
bicaufe the neighbours Ihoulde not be priuie of
his acceffe vnto hir: me prayed the Painter to
make him a garment to bee knowne from others.
So
230 THE FOURTH PART
So that by hir eye and feelinge (if there were no
light) fhe might yet ftreight wayes know him.
This deuife and requefl pleafed the Painter well,
wherevpon hee made him a white garment
paynted with Peacock's eies, and wrought vpon
it, and fo with this robe in the night hee went
to hir : without calling to any, or knocking at
the doore, hee went to a place appointed where
he founde hir hidden, and there he fweetely
folaced himfelfe to his great contentation. At
this compact betweene them for their meeting,
one of hir feruauntes had clofely put himfelfe
into a corner, and heard all that was fayde and
done, who cunningly diflernbled that hee knewe
ought where his Myftrefle hid her. This Painter
with his white robe continued his haunt vnto hir
a great while before the feruaunt coulde come to
beare halfe of his labor. It hapned yet on a
night (as fortune woulde) that this Painter had
occafion to goe oute of the towne for certaine
bufineife he had abrode : the feruaunt when he
knew it, hied him immediately to the Painters
houfe, and bade his wyfe deliuer him hir huf-
bandes white robe. And when he had it he put
it on his back, and fo went to his Myftrefle with
all: who when me fawe it, and knew it, and
beleeued it had bene the Painter (perhaps too,
shee lyked to be deceiued) bega to purfue Venus
fport
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 231
fport togithers. His errand delyuered, hee went
and rendered thys robe agayne vnto the Paynters
wyfe, who good foule knewe not what hir huf-
bande ment to weare that robe euery night.
Anone, after midnight as the Deuill would have
it, the Paynter came home agayne, whether the
fprite mooued hym that he muft needes goe con-
iure the Deuill, or that his bufyneffe framed not
that hee went for or what it was I cannot tell
ye, it is ynough home he came : and putting on
his white robe on his backe he flong out of the
doores agayne in hafte, and to the Joyners wyfe
hee trudged. But when he came there, he
founde all faft mut vppe, and no noyfe at all :
fo that hee was driuen to daunce attendaunce
without doores and blowe his nailes, as the
Phifition's Moyle that waiteth for his maifler,
and ftill chaweth at the bridle. Howbeit the
next night hee returned, and at pleafure dif-
couered the countrie. And being haftie in his
iourney, what man (quoth (he) remember your-
felf, you rode farre yefter night, and you are
not yet at your iourneys ende : I perceyue you
haue yet a coltes tooth in your heade. Well
wanton well, you will tyer your horfe : and with
fuch lyke harlottrie louing wordes me entertained
hir friende the Painter. The Painter hearing
thefe wordes, beganne to fmell a Ratte, and
thought
232 THE FOURTH PART
thought ftreyght (he had taken in more horfes
into hir ftable than two. So he tooke his leaue,
and home he went : and when he came home,
examining the matter, his wife told him there
came one in his name for his robe. Then were
they both at an afterdeale, and woorfe than euer
they were, for none of them knewe, nor could
gefle what he mould be : infomuch as after he
had well fauouredly ribbe roiled his poore inno
cent wife, he threwe his robe into the fire. So
fhee fielye woman bare the blame that made no
fault. The King therefore fhoulde not fo lightly
beleeue it, before he be iuftly informed ; that
anothers fault bee not puniihed by my inno-
cencie. My Lords and beafts, think not I pray
you that I fpeake this for feare of death, but to
purge my felfe of that ye haue hearde. For death
is common to all, and I knowe I cannot fhunne
it, therefore I feare it not. But this I feare, that
dying falfely accufed, my name and houfe mould
for euer be defamed: and to this I take great
heede. The mother of the Lion, that was the
very daughter of impacience, coulde not abide
to heare any more fables, but caft up hir head,
and turned hir about at thefe words, and halfe
in a rage, and in choler, fayde thus to the Moyle.
If thy deedes were as good as thy wordes,
my fonne fhoulde not be thus grieued nor
offended :
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 233
offended : nor the poore Bull had bene nowe
deade. But thy double dealings and prittle
prattle, who did but giue eare vnto thee (and
beleeued thee) not knowing thee, are ynough
to turne the Court toplie turuie. As thou
diddeft heretofore to Pannonia who come home
thou madeft him beleeue (bicaufe his wife
woulde not graunt thy vnhoneft delire) that
{he was naught : fo that vpon thy wordes he
fell vpon hir with his feet, and pafhed hir to
death. Then to late repenting his fault, he
heaped one yll on another: for he made all
his concubines to be burnt. And all this came
of thy curfed wordes. Therefore it is beft for
euerye man not to haue thy friendfhip. With
that he lift vp his eares, and with open mouth
thus aunfwered.
It becommeth not Madame the Kinges mother
to heare the caufes, reafons, contentions, obiec-
tions, and wronges of the fubiect with two eares
at once, but with one alone. For your Judge
ment ought to be vpright & equall, if affection
or partialitie carie ye not away. And if the
matter be for Chiarino : the Moyle will not
for that forget that the King doth yet truft
him, and that he is a true feruaunt to his
Maieftie. And be yee affured Madame, that
to trouble my innocencie, and to moleft me
that
234 THE FOURTH PART
that to all this Court is fo true a flaue, it is
an offence to pitie. Imagine howe the Lionefle
hart did rife marueyloufly againft him, bicaufe
me knew the wickednefle of the Moyle : and
turning to hir fonne me faid. How thinkeft
thou of the boldnefle of this moft cruel vn-
curbed traytor? that as many as heare him
think he hath reafon. See I pray yee howe
he played the Foxe. Beholde I befeech ye his
lookes, what kinde of ieftures he makes. Thinke
ye hee cannot hit one on the knee at a pinch
and neede be with his heeles? Yes I warrant
ye when ye look not for it. O fubtill beaft,
how he hangeth downe his heade. O what a
trayterous looke, fee his falfe leering eyes. Lorde
how terribly he lookes on vs. Dismember my
fonne this curfed beaft, and henceforth neither
for friends, courtiers, nor kynfefolkes requeftes,
euer keepe Moyles any more. The Lion for
al thefe words ftirred not a whitte, neyther once
caft vp his heade as though hee had bene
mooued. The Lyonefle his mother madde for
anger for hir fonnes griefe: why then bicaufe
thou wilt not punifh a traytor, doeft thou not
beleue me? doeft thou not credit thy Mother
that telleth thee here before them all, and affirm
ed! to his face that he is a traitour to thee ?
Then the King called a certaine fierce beaft,
and
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 235
and vgly monfter to beholde, begotten of a
Satire and of a Griffin, and he made him take
a chaine and chaine the Moyle. The Moyle
feing fo horrible a horned beaft come towardes
him, let fall his tayle for feare and forrow both,
and thus of this helliih furie he was chained,,
and caried to prifon, and as ye {hall heare fafely
kept and examined.
When the Moyle was thus apprehended, the
Lyonefle went to the Kinge hir fonne and fayde
to him. The imprifonment of this wicked
member hath greatly e reioyced all the Court :
knowinge that nowe the tyme is come thys male
factor {hall bee punimed, and receyue iuft rewarde
for his treafons. God, if thou diddeft but heare
what they talke of hym in Court, of his naughtie
tongue, of his carying of tales from one to another,
of fpreading abrode quarrels, contentions, ftrifes,
debates, fufpitions in euery place where he com-
meth, thou wouldeft blefle thee, and thy eares
woulde glowe in thy heade. O curfed Moyle.
Neuer agree to heare him, neuer giue him audi
ence, but referre his matter to the Counfell, and
then let iuftice proceede. Now I thinke thy lyfe
fafe, and dare boldelye faye thy Realme {hall
lyue in peace : fyth the Moyle is forthcomming,
and I hope {hall be quite difpatched. And
bicaufe I would not haue thee thinke I fpeake
obfcurely :
236 THE FOURTH PART
obfcurely : I wil tell thee what reafon I haue to
fpeake it. And here the Lionefle reciteth from
point to point what the Lybbarde had tolde hir,
and how fhe heard the whole matter of him.
The King vnderftanding his fad from the mouth
of fo credible a perfon, as that of the Libbarde :
then he knewe it to be true, and that he had
offended, which yet was not altogither to be
belieued, and depended fomewhat vpon the
Moyle. And thus determined to punifh the
Moyle, he withdrewe himfelfe from the Counfell,
as all fuch princes do.
Nowe when Fame had blowne abrode the
Moyles imprifonment, and comming to the
Affes eares his brother, hee ranne vnto the prifon,
and his heart panted, and bet marueylouily : as
that Affe knewe howe this geare was brought
about, and he tolde the Moyle. Our playe nowe
is like to the playe of the two brethren, that
hauing two Balles in their handes, they gaue
them ech into other handes, and they were both
made of one fafhion and bignefle : fo that in the
ende to choofe this or that they faw it was all one,
there was no choyce in neyther. To haue thee
in prifon, alas it troubleth me : and to haue thee
abrode alfo it grieueth me. All commeth to one
reckening. And with that for kindeneffe he
buril out in teares, and wept bitterly. But after-
wardes
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 237
wardes feing him with the chaine about his
necke he quaked for feare, and layde him downe
on the grounde, crying out in his Affes maner,
and fayde. O brother Moyle, what case art thou
in now ? Alas there is no more time to reproue
thee now, bicaufe there is no remedie, as fewe
dayes agoe there was, when thou mighteft haue
cancelled all : but thou like an Affeheaded foole,
that mighteft haue cleered the countrie (knowing
thyfelf to be guilty) why didft thou not take thee
to thy legs? Thou defpifedft my counfels to
thee, & yet they were good if thou hadft had
grace to haue taken them. It is true that is
fpoken by the mouth of beaftes that haue vnder-
ftanding. That the falfe and vntrue man dyeth
before his time. As me thinketh I fee by the
Element will happen to thee. And this for none
other but thy infolencie, and naughtineffe : and
thy craftes and deceytes hath brought thee to this
trouble. O how happie hadd^ft thou bene if
thou haddeft dyed in thy birth ? Curfed, and
no worth be thy falfe knowledge and enuye of
others weale and profperitie : which onely is it
hath brought thee to this infamous ende. Then
the Moyle relented, and breaking out in teares
alfo, aunfwered.
My good brother Affe, no liuing creature howe
wife and difcreete fo euer hee be, can fhunne his
mifhappes
238 THE FOURTH PART
mifhappes and yll fortune : and therefore I def-
pifed a thoufande of thy good counfels, for fo
was it giuen me from aboue. And if pride
and ambition had not traueiled me ftill I could
haue withdrawne mee : but the enuie of others
dignitie and eflimation had to much power ouer
mee. O blind vnderflanding of mans knowledge.
It happened to me as to the lick man, who
hauing prepared for him moft wholefome meates,
hee refufeth them, and giueth hymfelfe ouer to
his will and appetite, takinge them that are hurt-
full for him and filleth himfelfe : which doth in
deedeboth hinder his health, and continue hisficke-
neffe. He knoweth it & yet can not abftaine. I
knew well ynough peruerfe vnderftandinge, but I
neuer had reafon fufficient to bridle it. Nowe
to late I finde my fault, and knowing the daunger
I am in, my forrow redoubleth on me : not fo
much for myfelfe, as for thy fake, bicaufe thou
haft alwayes bene with me. Thou art my
brother, and confequentlye they will beleeue and
imagine (in deede) that thou art priuie with mee,
and partaker of my doings. The Kinges officers
therefore may take thee, and put thee on the
racke, and make thee confeffe my fault, and
when they haue done execute thee. (For fure
they mall neuer haue it of me) and by thy con-
feffion punifh mee without remiflion or pardon
in
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 239
in this worlde. For of thy wordes dependeth
my death, and of my wicked gouernment lhall
growe thy yll, griefe, trouble, torment, prifon-
ment, and extreme punimment. The Affe hear
ing his brothers wordes, marked them well,
that he trembled euery ioynt of him, and quaked
like an Afpin leafe : and a beaftly feuer tooke
him, with which he went his way home. But
before he departed thence, he fayde vnto the
Moyle. Brother, if thou wey my life, and
wilt keepe me from perill (as thou canft not
any waye auoyde it) confeffe thy fault is worthy
of death: thus malt thou free thee from the
wrath of the Gods and after this corporall
punimment of thine, doubtleffe thy fpirite (hall
forthwith be tranfported to the heauens. Well
fayd the Moyle, the laft and extreme remidie
lhall be this. If there be no hope of remedie
let it be as it will be : for my bodie well I wote
fuffereth already to much. Now get thee home,
& hide thyfelfe, and let it light on me, as the
world, Fortune, and the Gods will affigne. The
Affe departed from him verye licke, and fore
troubled in his minde, and his payne fo helde
him, that the fame night hee ended his forrow-
full dayes. Whofe death a Woolfe that dwelled
harde by him greatly lamented, and was a
witneffe afterwarde that confirmed all the wicked
fad:
240 THE FOURTH PART
fact : who hearde in deede the fame night howe
the Afle reprooued the Moyle his brother. The
Lyon fent to the Libbard, "and commanded his
officers they fhoulde vnderftand particularly the
Moyles cafe, and to difpatch him roundlye.
Al the beafts got them into the Parliament
houfe, and euery one tooke his place according
to his degree, and fate them downe : and the
houfe being let, there was brought before them
in chaines this folemne traytor the Moyle. And
when he was come before the prefence of fuch
a fight of AfTes and fooles, the Libbard ftandeth
vp, and fpeaketh. Right honorable, it is yet
frefh in memorie, that the King killed the
poore innocent Chiarino, fo that from that
time hitherto his Maieftie hath not bene quieted
in his minde, that hee put him to death by the
falfe accufation and enuie of my Lorde the
Moyle. His Maieflie therefore hath liked to
call vs to Parliament, that euery one of vs
mould witnefle the troth, if we knowe or haue
heard anything of his doings, in what maner
he did it, what Arte he vfed, with whom he
practifed, and by whom he was aflifted in this
great treafon, to bring his wicked minde to
purpofe. Euery one of vs is bound that knoweth
ought to vtter it, for the preferuation of the
Realme, and his Maiefties moft royall perfon.
And
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHISE. 241
And then by iuftice it is meete fuch traytors
{houlde be puniflied, and the good rewarded:
by meanes whereof the good may liue vnder
his Maiefties reigne and gouvernement with fafe-
tie, and the yll be rooted out and cut off from
the common weale. ' Euery one looked other
in the face, and helde their peace. The vn-
happie Moyle, perceyuing that euerie body was
afhamed to take vppon them to tell fo yll a
tale, cut off Fortune by the wafte euen at that
pinche, and ftepped to the matter himfelfe,
riling vp vpon his feete (being fet before) and
boldly fayd thefe words.
O noble and vertuous Lordes, what is the
caufe ye are all thus filent ? O my Lordes, how
gladde woulde I be (if I were in fault) of this
your filence. But bicaufe I knowe mine inno-
cencie, and my felfe cleere in that I am accufed
off, it mall not grieue me, let euery man fay
hardily that he knoweth. But yet with condi-
cion, that he haue the glaffe of Veritie before
his eies, and that he aunfwere iuftly to that
he is afked, and fo mall he (what foeuer he be)
fatiffie God, and the worlde, and I mall remayne
free and contented. It is true that euery bodye
ihoulde bee circumfpeft to fpeake onely that
they knowe: and not to fuffer themfelues to
be caried awaye eyther with fauour, enuie, or
malice,
a
242 THE FOURTH PART
malice. For then like ynough that lofle and
ftiame woulde come to him, that came to a
Phifition which had the Pificke, or if I lie not,
was well feene in Phificke. In a certaine part
of India Pafturaca, there was a Phifition in
diebus illis, the which cured all, all the beafts
he vifited : and fare it was a marueilous thing
there neuer died any vnder his hands that hee
had cure off. This man being deade, was
reckened for a Saint. Another Phifition called
Maifter Marreal, (in our tongue) beganne to
caft waters, fetting euery vrinall by himfelfe, and
bought him bookes to reflemble the other as
neere as he coulde : and when he had met
with any receit, oh he kept it full dearely.
Afterwardes he had a toye in his head, that
he tooke himfelfe for the fame Phifition that
was before him, both for learning and practife,
fo that he boafted hee had done great cures,
who coulde fcant knowe he was himfelfe aliue,
hee was fo poore, and yet he layde on lode as
he had bene (yea marrie had he) the cunningeft
man in the Realme. It happened fo that the
daughter of the King of that Citie (where this
Phifition dwelled) fell ficke, and hir difeafe was
this. That being with childe, hir nofe guflied
out with bloud very oft. The King that loued
his daughter dearely, and gladly would haue
had
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 243
had remedie for hir and coulde not, hee was
very penfive and heauie, and lighed fore for that
worthye Phifition that was nowe deade, the
lofle of whome went to his heart, fith none
died vnder him that he had in cure. This
newe come Phifition knowing the Kinges cafe,
went to his Maieftie, and tolde him that hee
fhoulde not forrowe for the lofle of the other
Phifition, for he offered himfelfe to fatiffie him
as much in his feruice, as that other excellent
and famous man his predeceflbr : and that he
doubted not but he woulde finde out a prefent
and fouereigne remedie for his Graces daughter.
The Kinge reioyced at thofe wordes, belieuing
them as true as he had fpoken them : fo he
payde him to minifter to hir, and to applie fuch
prefent remedies as might with fpeede ceafe hir
difeafe, and reftore hir to hir health. Nowe to
Ihowe himfelfe a rare and learned man, he came
to his bookes, and tofled and tumbled them
pittifullye, turning their leaves vpfide downe,
belieuing they were the bookes of the other
famous man, and that thofe woulde able him
in his miniftration as they did the other. Then
he made his man bring him thofe electuaries,
compoundes, and conceytes that the other Phifi
tion had left behind him, and he beganne to
mingle them and worke them togither. But
like
244 THE FOURTH PART
like an vnfortunate man in all his doings, there
came to his handes a pot of Arfenicke, and
bicaufe hee thought hee had kept and preferued
it with great care and diligence, hee tooke it
for a precious oyntment, fo that he tooke of
that the greateft quantity, and mingled it with
the others. This Arfenicke (which he fuppofed
as good as Ginger) prepared in potion, hee
caried it to the Princeffe which mould haue
dronke it : faying that ftreight it would ftoppe
the bloud, and reftore hir to health. The King
feing he had thus quickly difpatched his med-
cine, thought him one of the rareft Judgements
and fingulareft Phifitions in the worlde. The
vnhappie Ladie had fcant dronke off a part of
this potion, but me felt hir hart labor, and take
on vnmercifully : fo leaning the reaft behinde
vn dronke, making pitifull mone, and fcreking
out for payne, me wofully in ihort time left
hir life. The King feeing his daughter deade,
was become the heauieft man aliue, as euery
man maye coniehire : and apprehending this
beggarly Phifition, made him drinke vp the
reaft, fo that he ftreight fell downe in the
place and died. And it happened to him as
to the pore olde man, that brake all y e earthen
Potles or Pipkins he found with his Cudgell.
So that one day he met with a hare brained
yong
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 245
yong fellow, of his owne humor and condition,
and feeing the Pipkin in his hand, he lift vp
his Cudgell and brake it in peeces, fo that all
that was in it ranne out.
Therefore my Lordes take no fantafie in your
heades that is not honeft, for fo yll woulde come
of it : and take not vpon you anything that
you are not well informed off, leaft yours bee
the mame and loffe. Let euery man remember
his foule, and let him not fay that he knoweth
not : but to affirme that he hath feene, I am
very well contented with that. Sure it were
yll done (my Lordes) for anye man to fpeake
that he knoweth not certainely and afluredly,
and the wrath of the Gods with fuch lyke yll
lucke as mine would be poured vpon them and
their lyfe : and this none but I knoweth it
better. The maifler cooke of the Kinges kitchin
(as fatte as a Hogge) hearing this brauery of
his to enforce his credite he tooke hart vpon
him, and emboldened himfelfe notwithstanding
his nobilitie, and beganne to fpeake in prefence
of them all, and thus he fayde.
Right Reuerent and Honorable audience, ye
are very well met in this place. Our olde
auncient fathers that wrote many bookes of
Phifiognomie (of the which I thank the King
I
246 THE FOURTH PART
I haue greafed a good number, bicaufe I ftudied
often times in the kitchen) do tell vs many
things, and gaue vs diuers tokens to knowe
beaftes and men, whereby we knowing them
to be good or bad, they mould accordingly be
rewarded or punifhed. Id eft I meane fo, to
pra<5tife with the good, and to flie the companye
of the euill. So it is, yea marrie it is, in faith
I am fure of it I. Nowe that I haue ftudied.,
and according to my fkyll, (I tell ye my Lordes
I cannot diffemble) I finde our folemne Moyle
here to haue manye yll parts in this matter,
which fhowe him in all to be enuious, falfe
and a traytor : leaning out that he is verye
cruell, and wickedly bent befides. And ye
marke him, he euen looketh hier with his lefe
eie than his right, and his noftrels he turneth
flill to the right fide, with his eiebrowes very
thicke and long of heares, and continually he
looketh on the grounde : which are manifeft
tokens he is a traytor : and all thefe fignes
(looke ye on him that lift) ye mall fee him
haue them rightly I warrant ye. The Moyle
feeing the Swyne groyne with fo yll a grace,
although he was euen almoft grauelled and out
of countenance, yet he turned to him and
replied.
My
OF MO R ALL PHILOSOPHIE. 247
My Lords, if it were true that this malicious
Swyne and greafie verlet here before yee all doth
tell yee, that the heauens fhoulde place fignes in
vs as a neceffarie caufe of wickednefle : then
flreight anone as we fawe any beaftes brought
forth with thofe peruerfe lines and marks,
eyther they were to be forthwith punifhed, or
put to death, that they mould not worke fuch
wicked treafons and effectes : and fewe betides
that mould bee borne, that the moft part of
them at the leaft were not marked with thefe
fignes, that he &: his goodely bookes doe imagine.
I knowe not if his doctrine mail be of fuch autho-
ritie receyued amongft you, that it mall con-
demne my goodneffe and pure workes. Sure
this worfhipfull beafl is deceyued, and doth as
they that fee an olde woman prefent a yong
woman with anything, or deliuereth hir fome
letter with anye pitifull fhowes : flreight without
touch of breft, not knowing no further, they take
hir for a Bawde. My worfhipfull Hogge fhoulde
knowe thyngs better before hee be thus bolde
and faucie to fpeake in this prefence. But none
is fo bolde as blinde Bayarde I fee. Thou
weeneft to poynt at me, but thy felfe it is that is
poynted at, and thou make it well. Thou fup-
pofefl to detect me, and to open my defe6tes,
and
248 THE FOURTH PART
and doeft not looke vpon thy felfe what thine
owne doe ihowe thee. But harken to this tale,
& then tell me how thou likeft it.
Our Forefathers and elders facked a great
Citie, had the fpoyle of all that was in it, and
put all to the fworde faue olde men and women
and little children of all fortes. In tyme thefe
little ones grew, and bicaufe they left them
nothing, men and women went naked, hyding
only their fecrets and priuities with fome thing.
One daye there came to the towne an olde
countrie Cloyne to fell woode, and hee brought
with him his two daughters, whereof the one
went plainly to worke without any ceremonie,
mowing fuch marke as God had fent hir, and the
other comely couered it wyth leaues as well
befeemed hir. The people began to fay to the
unnofeled Mayde : oh ihame of the world, fie
for fhame, hyde, hyde, hyde. The olde Cloyne
bicaufe he woulde not haue that Maygame be-
hinde him, turning him, reuiled every body that
fpake, and was as madde as a March Hare : and
leauing him felfe bare, gaue hir his furniture to
hyde hir mame. Then they were all on the
iache of him, and reuyled him to badde. His
firll daughter that was couered, feeing hir father
bare, fayde vnto him. So fayth me, ye haue
made
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 249
made a good hande nowe : had you not bene
better haue holden your peace, and to haue kept
your owne priuities clofe as they were at the firft ?
This I haue told for thee, maifter Cooke of the
King's kitchen. Thou doeft not remember the
vyle and infinite naughtie fignes that thou haft,
and the great defectes and deformities placed in
thy body. Thou, thou art vyle flowe, rauening.
Thou art foule, ftinking, filthie, lothfome, and a
wretched thing : borne of a Sowe, and gotten
of a Bore, and not of a Mare and an AfTe as I
am. Thou, a vile deuourer of all thinges, and
a folemne fupper of broth and fwill. Thou, a
little neck, a vile vifage, with thy fnowte for
ward : a narrow forehead, wide noftrels, and
ihort nofed, fo that the office thou haft is yll
beftowed on thee. For thou haft no part in thee
that is profitable, good, honorable, meete, nor
fightlye for anybody, but when thou art before
them in the dim.
The Hogge feeing himfelfe thus well payde
home in wordes againe, was glad to holde his
peace : and after that neuer a one durft once
fpeake a word any more. Thus for that time
there was nothing elfe determined, but that the
Moyle was caried againe to prifon by a Beare,
who fafely kept him, and looked to him. And
now
250 THE FOURTH PART
now being the fecond time again clapped into
prifon, there came to the Court a great friend of
the Affe his brothers, who finding him deade,
came to aduertife the Moyle his brother being in
prifon, and was verie forie for the death of the
Affe, which the Moyle had not hearde of all this
while to no we : and the Moyle tooke it fo in
wardly that it pierced his heart, and needes die
he would. So turning him to his friende, which
was a Foxe well ftricken in yeares, he fayde to
him. Brother I am determined to die, and will
make thee mine heyre. And making him get
Penne, Inke, and Paper, he made his Will and
bade him write, and he bequeathed him all he
had : which was a rich furniture. A double
Coller with three Bafenets. A Nofell netwife
for his mouth with a bit to the fame. A coller
of leather hungrie to hang ouer his necke with
belles, a broade Pattrell with diuers coloured
fringes made of Girthweb and Canvas. A Baffe,
a great Grouper of wood, a Souzer, a Charger,
and mayling cords. A broade long Want, a
tying Coller, a paire of Paftornes, and a Cranell :
with other ciuill furnitures pertinent to his eftate.
And then he confeffed all, and tolde him his
wicked pra6tifes and treafon, and that he onely
(yea marrie was he) was the caufe of all this
fturre.
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 251
fturre. The Foxe thanked him hartily, and
offered to helpe him with the King, and to trauell
for him the beft he coulde, bicaufe he was his
chiefe Secretarie in Court and out of Court : and
fo departed from him. And he was no fooner
out of his light, but bicaufe he was in deede
made heyre of that he had, he went to the
Lyoneffe and Libbarde, and there confirmed the
teflament hereditarie of the Moyle. And to
further his defire (who defired to die) he reuealed
it, and accufed the Moyle. So the traytor by
another traytor was betrayed.
In the morning betimes all the beafts met in
the Parliament houfe, the Lawyers, Judges,
Sergeants, Counfellers, and Attorneys, and all
the Kinges officers togithers : and there appeared
alfo the Lyoneffe and Lybbarde. The indite-
ment drawne, the witneffes fworne and depofed,
they caufed the Moyle to be brought Coram
teftilus, and the Judges : and the Clarke of
the peace to read his inditement to his face.
Now think whether his eares did glow, and his
cheeks blufh, when he heard the Foxe, the
Woolfe, and Libbard fworne as witneffes againft
him. Hee ftamped, hee muffed, he cried in his
Moylifhe voice, he flong, he yerked, and tooke
on like a furie of Hell. And when he was
wearied
252 THE FOURTH PART
wearied with thefe ftormes and paflions downe
he layd him, and rored out amaine. O I am
killed, I am killed, I denie it. It is nothing
true that is fpoken : and therefore I warrant him
it will come to that vilaine the Foxe (who to
haue my goodes hath thus falfely accufed mee,
accurfed was I when I made him mine heyre)
which happened to him that brought vp three
Popingeyes or Parats.
In the middeft of Tatarie there was a great
honeft riche man, that had the moft true, faith-
full, honeft, louing, difcretee and gentle wife
in all that Realme : So that hir doinges were
wonderfull, and me alone was inough to giue
light to halfe the worlde. This fame Gentle
man (hulbande to this wyfe) had a ftraunger
to his man, proper of perfon, and comely to
beholde. And this handfome feruing man be
came marueyloullye in loue with his fayre yong
Myftrefle, fo that night and daye he could thinke
of nothing elfe but which waye to purfue his
loue. And when he had manye times (by
tarying at home) aflayde the ryuer to pafle
ouer, there was no pollicie coutde feme hys
turne to obteyne fauor, but to bee enterteyned
as a feruant ftill. It fortuned him that one daye
being a hunting, he found a Parattes neaft, and
in
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 253
in the neafl three yong Parrattes : fo taking
them vp he caried them home, and familiarlye
brought them vp, and taught them to fpeake
fome things in his language, (the Indian tongue)
which in that countrie where he dwelled no
body vnderftoode. One of them could piertly
faye. Our Myftrefle maketh hir hufbande a
Cuccolde. The other. O what a ihame is
that. The thirde fayd, it is true, it is true, it
is naught. Thefe toyes had the feruant deuifed
to be reuenged of hir, for that he could not
obteine his purpofe, and bicaufe me would not
confent to his wickednefle. Thus all the daye
thefe blefled Parattes tampered on thefe verfes
only, and fang them ftil as they were taught.
And for that the tongue was ftraunge, there
was neuer none of the countrie coulde vnder-
ftande it. There came one daye to the houfe
of this honeft man, two Merchants, kinfefolks
to his wife, which bicaufe they had trafficked
India very well, they had the tongue perfitely.
And being at the table, they talked of many
things, and they fell at length into talke of
Parattes. So that the good man of the houfe
caufed his men to bring his three Parattes to
him, only to ihowe them vnto his kinfemen.
The little Parattes being made of, beganne to
fing
254 THE FOURTH PART
(ing their verfes, and to repeate it ftill apace.
Nowe thinke yee what thoughtes thefe Mer-
chauntes had, hearinge them fpeake fo vile and
llaunderous wordes. And thus looking one at
another, turninge them to the Gentleman, they
demanded of him : Sir know ye what thefe
harlotrie Birdes doe fpeake? No not I God
knoweth, fayde the Gentleman that ought them :
but me thinketh it is a paftime to heare them.
Well, let it not miflyke you to vnderftand what
they fay j for it behoueth you to knowe it by any
meanes. And fo they tolde him all the ftory of
the Parattes. The Gentleman was all amazed and
troubled in his minde to heare this exposition.
And then hee afked them againe : but doe they
(ing nothing elfe all daye but this, and ftill in
one fonge ? yea fure lince we came, no other
tune nor fonge had they but this. With that,
very angry and woode as he coulde bee, he
flewe on his wyfe, and woulde haue killed hir.
But he was ftayde by the Merchants, and his
wife wifely committing hir felfe vnto him, be-
fought hym diligently to inquire out the matter,
and not to doe hir the wrong to beleeue thofe
foolime Birdes : fo he was forced to quiet him-
felfe. Firft he fought to knowe and if the
Parattes could fay any other thing or no : and
hee
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 255
hee coulde not finde they coulde. Then the
fault was layde vppon the feruante that had
taught them. And calling for his man, hee
came {freight with a Sparrowe hawke on his
fift : who was no fooner come before hys Myf-
treffe but ihee fayd vnto him. O wicked feruante
thou, what haft thou taught thefe Birdes to faye ?
Nothing aunfwered he. They fpeake lyke beaftes
of vnderftanding, what they fee and knowe.
Why then fayth the huiband, and is it fo as
they fpeake ? Yea fir, fayde the naughtie fer-
uaunt. With that the Sparrowe hawke on his
fift beganne brokenlye to fpeake : Beleeue them
not maifter, for they lie in their throtes euery one
of them. Thefe wordes were no fooner fpoken,
but the Merchantes (kinfefolkes to his wyfe) rofe
vp and pulled out both the feruaunts eyes : and
then to late he reftored to his miftrelfe hir good
name agayne, which fell out to his vtter vndoing.
Beholde therefore fayde the Moyle, fee what
hate reygneth in mens breftes. O facred Prince,
bee not offended with your good fubiectes for
fynifter information giuen you. Neither de
termine any thing that is to the hurt and fhame
of your neighbour, through the accufations of
the enimies of vertue. The Court doth willingly
giue eare one to deftroy another, if the iuftice
of
256 THE FOURTH PART
of the Prince fteppe not in betweene. And
euery man that can preferre and exalt himfelfe
(at leaft as long as he hath meanes to doe it)
careth not for the loffe, hurt, or fhame, of
friend, kinfman or brother. For fuch is the
priuilege of auarice and ambition. Euery one
that heard the Moyle (knowing his wickednefle)
could not abyde any longe to heare him : and
feeing his vnreyned arrogancie, the Lybbard
ftepped forth, and gaue euidence before the
counlell of that hee had heard and knowen.
The Woolfe followed alfo with true and euident
tokens, and the Foxe with his owne fubfcribed
will confirmed his great treafon. ' The Kinge
gaue fentence his fkinne ihoulde bee turned
ouer hys eares, his carkas left for the Rauens,
and his bones mould be burned for facrifice,
done in memorie of the Bull and in teflimonie
of his innocencie : and to this was a worthie
punilhment for fo vile a carkas, that had wrought
fuch mifchiefe.
We muft all therefore indeuour, great and
fmall, high and lowe, to worke well, and to
Hue with puritie of minde, and an vpright con-
fcience. For the heauens, after long abftinence
and deferring of punimment, doe by determined
iuftice rayne vpon vs a double plague and cor
rection,
OF MORALL PHILOSOPHIE. 257
region, to thofe that iuftly deferue it. But the
iuft and vertuous fort they recompence alfo,
with infinite benefites of lyfe, eftate, comraoditie,
honor, and eftimation.
Finis.
Here endeth the Treatife of the Royall Philofo-
phie of Sendelar : In which is layd open many
infinite examples for the health and life of
reafonable men fhadowed vnder
tales and fimilitudes of brute
beaftes without
reafon.
Imprinted at London by Henrie
Denham, Dwelling in Pater-
nofter Rowe, at the
Signe of the
Starre.
1570.
Cum Priuelegio.
Faultes
FAULTES ESCAPED.
Folio Page Line
Faultes.
Correction.
419
debating with
occupying with
himfelfe
himfelfe.
12 I 12
of my Genitours
of my Progeni-
etc
tours, etc.
42 i 8
if thou wilt not be
if thou wilt not be
etc
called by, etc.
42 i 8
the goody ere ay-
left, etc
the goodyere ay-
ledft, etc.
42 I 12
fo bake.
fo drinke.
69 I 19
take hart of grace
take hart of graffe,
etc
etc.
76 I II
wearied the Bull,
woried the Bull,
94 i 14
Preferuation their
preferuation of
etc
their, etc.
!
Printed by BAJ.LANTYNE, HANSON & Co,
Edinburgh and London.
PR Bidpa 1 !. Arabic version.
2326 Kairieh wa Diirmah. English
N6M7 The earliest English version
18S8 of the fables of Bidpai
cop. 2
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