CHAPTER VI.
In which the Author, who setteth in order this history, saith something of what he purposeth concerning the virtues of the Infant Don Henry.
Such were the virtues and habits of this great and glorious Prince, even as you have heard in the past few chapters, in which I have spoken as well as I was able, but certainly not as the matter deserved of me, for as St. Jerome layeth it down, small wits cannot handle great subjects. And if it be true, as Sallust saith, that great praise was given to those who performed the famous actions in the history of Athens, as far as the brilliant and glorious talents of her subtle authors were able by words to praise and exalt them, it was great boldness in me, who am only worthy to name myself a disciple of each one of these ancients, to undertake so high a charge.[[38]]
But whereas it is said, that obedience is better than sacrifice, it seemeth to me that I do not deserve so great a blame, since I have only fulfilled what was commanded me. But I neither demand nor desire that my work should be placed before the public, for it is not of so precious a nature as to merit that it be preserved in a tower or temple, as the Athenians preserved the Minerva of Phidias, the figure to wit of the goddess Pallas, which for the excellency of its beauty was placed on high for the better view of all men, as saith the Philosopher in the sixth book of his Ethics, in the Chapter on Wisdom.[[39]] Rather I wish that this book of mine may be profitable as to its form, in order that in the future another work more adequate to the subject may be constructed out of it, and one that may suffice for the merits of so great a prince; for certainly shame will descend on all the masters, all the doctors, all the lawyers that have received instruction through his beneficence, if among so many there should not be found one willing to perpetuate his admirable deeds in a loftier and nobler style.
But as it may happen that the recompense of gratitude, as I often perceive, may not be swift to follow or may very quickly cease altogether, let it please you to receive what in the past chapters of this work I have said of the Prince's habits and virtuous acts, and what more in the future I shall have to say—not according to that which the excellence of the work requireth, but according to the rudeness and ignorance of the Author. And these matters you may well believe are more truthfully written than easily collected together.
But before entering fully upon the substance of my history, I wish to say a little of my intention to amend somewhat in the things where aforetime I was found wanting, to the praise of this great and glorious duke. And thou, great Valerius,[[40]] who with such constant study, didst occupy thyself in gathering and putting together in a history the powers and virtues of the noble and excellent lords of thy city, of a surety I dare say that among so many renowned men, thou couldst not, in the highest degree, speak of another like him, for although thou wast able to assign certain grades of virtue to each one of thy heroes, yet thou wast not able to unite all these merits in one single body, as I am able to gather and join them together in the life of this Prince.
Where couldst thou find one so religious, one so catholic, one so prudent, one of so good counsel, one so temperate in all his actions? Where couldst thou light on such magnanimity, such frankness, such humanity, such courage, to support so great and so many toils as his?—for of a surety there was not a man of his time who would have dared to continue in the practice of such severity of life. Oh how often did the sun find him on its rising seated in the same place where it had left him the day before, watching throughout the circle of the night season without taking any rest, surrounded by people of various nations, not without profit to every one of them that stood by. For he took no small delight in finding the means to profit all. Where could you find another human body that would endure the toil he underwent in arms, a toil that was but scantly diminished in the time of peace? Certainly I believe that if fortitude could be depicted, it would encounter its true form in his face and members, for he did not prove himself strong in some matters only, but in all. And what courage, what endurance, could be greater than that of the man who is victor over himself? Yet he endured hunger and thirst as well, a matter almost past belief.
But what Romulus, or Manlius Torquatus, or Horatius Coclês couldst thou prefer to the might of this Prince? Perchance thou wouldst bring hither thy Cæsar, whom by thy words thou hast set up as a god, and an example of good morals and honest life: what then wilt thou do with Marcus Tullius and with Lucan, who in so many places confess that he corrupted himself by carnal desires and other vices, to the great diminishing of his praise?[[41]] Who would not fear to compare himself with this our prince, seeing how that the Sovereign Pontiff, vicar-general of the Holy Church, and the Emperor of Germany, as well as the Kings of Castille and England, when informed of his great virtues, begged him to be captain of their armies?[[42]] And to what shall we assign more justly the name of felicity and good fortune than to his virtues and habits, or to what empires and riches can be given greater honour than to his great and excellent deeds?
O fortunate prince, honour of our kingdom, what single thing was there in thy life which they who praise thee ought to pass by in silence: what moment of thy time was barren of good deeds or empty of praise? I consider how thou didst welcome all, how thou didst listen to all; how thou didst pass the greater part of thy days and nights among such great cares, that many might be profited. Wherefore I know that lands and seas are full of those that praise thee, for by thy continual voyagings thou hast joined the East with the West, in order that the nations might learn to exchange their riches. And in truth, though I have said many things about thee, many more remain for me to say.
But before I end this chapter I believe that it beseemeth me, of necessity, to show what I think about that matter on which I touched—to wit, distributive justice—so as not to pass it by without some declaration of my mind, as I promised before. And certainly that was a beautiful ordinance that Tully made upon this matter, for it standeth to reason that the verdict of the historian should have greater authority upon that matter of which he treateth than any other person, because he enquireth about the truth of things with greater care: Now this duty[[N]] will be either that of martial correction or of humanity and clemency. If it be an affair of correction or martial justice, it is impossible to excuse shortcomings, for we read in the histories of the Romans that the fathers slew their sons for such faults, and made other very bloody executions: but, contrariwise, on the side of clemency and humanity, this must needs be praised as a great virtue, since its third part, according to Seneca, lieth in reconciling familiars to oneself; yet the extreme of both these two things is of doubtful merit, to wit, whether one should prefer discipline to clemency or clemency to discipline.[[43]]
But under correction of him who better understandeth it, I say it appeareth to me that the better part of the matter should take precedence of the other part of less value, and considering the particular case and the circumstances of the time and how no correction could bring about amendment,[[O]] we ought to give praise rather than blame to the Infant for his conduct, inasmuch as it sheweth a liberal heart to offer kindness to those whom one might with good reason have denied.