commeth that which is called perfit age, in the which men haue no other thoughts, but to purchase themselues wisedome and rest. Perfit in deede, but herein only perfit, that all imperfections of humane nature, hidden before vnder the simplicitie of childhood, or the lightnes of youth, appeere at this age in their perfection. We speake of none in this place but such as are esteemed the wisest, and most happie in the conceit of the world. We played as you haue seene in feare: our short pleasures were attended on with long repentance. Behold, now present themselues to vs auarice, and ambition, promising if wee will adore them, perfect contentmẽt of the goods and honors of this world. And surely there are none, but the true children of the Lord, who by the faire illusions of the one or the other cast not themselues headlong from the top of the pinnacle. But in the ende, what is all this contentment? The couetous man makes a thousand voiages by sea and by lande: runnes a thousand fortunes: escapes a thousand shipwrackes in perpetuall feare and trauell: and many times he either looseth his time, or gaineth nothing but sicknesses, goutes, and oppilations for the time to come. In the purchase of this goodly repose, he bestoweth his true rest: and to gaine wealth looseth his life. Suppose he hath gained in good quantitie: that he hath spoiled the whole East of pearles, and drawen dry all the mines of the West: will he therefore be setled in quiet? can he say that he is content? All charges and iourneys past, by his passed paines he heapeth vp but future disquietnes both of minde and body: from one trauell falling into another, neuer ending, but changing his miseries. He desired to haue them, and now feares to loose them: he got them with burning ardour, and possesseth in trembling colde: he aduentured among theeues to seeke them, and hauing found them, theeues and robbers on all sides, runne mainely on
him: he laboured to dig them out of the earth, and now is enforced to redig, and rehide them. Finally comming from all his voiages he comes into a prison: and for an ende of his bodely trauels, is taken with endlesse trauails of the minde. And what at length hath this poore soule attained after so many miseries? This Deuill of couetise by his illusions, and enchantments, beares him in hand that he hath some rare and singuler thing: and so it fareth with him, as with those seely creatures, whome the Deuill seduceth vnder couler of releeuing their pouertie, who finde their hands full of leaues, supposing to finde them full of crownes. He possesseth or rather is possessed by a thing, wherein is neither force nor vertue: more vnprofitable, and more base, then the least hearbe of the earth. Yet hath he heaped togither this vile excrement, and so brutish is growne, as therewith to crowne his head, which naturally he should tread vnder his feete. But howsoeuer it be, is he therewith content? Nay contrarywise lesse now, then euer. We commend most those drinks that breede an alteration, and soonest extinguish thyrst: and those meates, which in least quantitie do longest resist hunger. Now hereof the more a man drinkes, the more he is a thirst, the more he eates, the more an hungred: It is a dropsie, (and as they tearme it) the dogs hunger: sooner may he burst then be satisfied. And which is worse, so strange in some is this thyrst, that it maketh them dig the pits, and painefully drawe the water, and after will not suffer them to drinke. In the middest of a riuer they are dry with thirst: and on a heape of corne cry out of famine: they haue goodes and dare not vse them: they haue ioyes it seemes, and do not enioy them: they neither haue for themselues, nor for another: but of all they haue, they haue nothing: and yet haue want of all they haue not. Let vs then returne to that, that the attaining of all these deceiuable goods is nothing else
but weerines of body, and the possession for the most part, but weerines of the minde: which certenly is so much the greater, as is more sensible, more subtile, and more tender the soule then the body. But the heape of all misery is when they come to loose them: when either shipwracke, or sacking, or inuasion, or fire, or such like calamities, to which these fraile things are subiect, doth take and cary them from them. Then fall they to cry, to weepe, and to torment themselues, as little children that haue lost their play-game, which notwithstanding is nothing worth. One cannot perswade them, that mortall men haue any other good in this world, but that which is mortall. They are in their owne conceits not only spoyled, but altogither flayed. And for asmuch as in these vaine things they haue fixed all their hope, hauing lost them, they fall into despaire, out of the which commonly they cannot be withdrawen. And which is more, all that they haue not gained according to the accompts they made, they esteeme lost: all that which turnes them not to great and extraordinary profit, they accompt as damage: whereby we see some fall into such despaire, as they cast away themselues. In short, the recompence that Couetise yeelds those that haue serued it all their life, is oftentimes like that of the Deuill: whereof the ende is, that after a small time hauing gratified his disciples, either he giues them ouer to a hangman, or himselfe breakes their neckes. I will not heere discourse of the wickednes and mischiefes wherevnto the couetous men subiect themselues to attaine to these goodes, whereby their conscience is filled with a perpetuall remorse, which neuer leaues them in quiet: sufficeth that in this ouer vehement exercise, which busieth and abuseth the greatest part of the world, the body is slaine, the minde is weakened, the soule is lost without any pleasure or contentment.
Come we to ambition, which by a greedines of honor
fondly holdeth occupied the greatest persons. Thinke we there to finde more? nay rather lesse. As the one deceiueth vs, geuing vs for all our trauaile, but a vile excrement of the earth: so the other repayes vs, but with smoke and winde: the rewards of this being as vaine, as those of that were grosse. Both in the one and the other, we fall into a bottomles pit; but into this the fall by so much the more dangerous, as at the first shewe, the water is more pleasant and cleare. Of those that geue themselues to courte ambition, some are great about Princes, others commanders of Armies: both sorts according to their degree, you see saluted, reuerenced, and adored of those that are vnder them. You see them appareled in purple, in scarlet, and in cloth of gould: it seemes at first sight there is no contentment in the world but theirs. But men knowe not how heauy an ounce of that vaine honor weighes, what those reuerences cost them, and how dearely they pay for an ell of those rich stuffes: who knewe them well, would neuer buy them at the price. The one hath attained to this degree, after a long and painefull seruice hazarding his life vpon euery occasion, with losse ofttimes of a legge or an arme, and that at the pleasure of a Prince, that more regards a hundred perches of ground on his neighbours frontiers, then the liues of a hundred thousand such as he: vnfortunate to serue who loues him not: and foolish to thinke himselfe in honor with him, that makes so litle reckening to loose him for a thing of no worth. Others growe vp by flattering a Prince, and long submitting their toongs and hands to say and doe without difference whatsoeuer they will haue them: wherevnto a good minde can neuer commaund it selfe. They shall haue indured a thousand iniuries, receiued a thousand disgraces, and as neere as they seeme about the Prince, they are neuertheles alwayes as the Lions keeper, who by long patience, a
thousand feedings and a thousand clawings hath made a fierce Lion familiar, yet geues him neuer meate, but with pulling backe his hand, alwayes in feare least he should catch him: and if once in a yere he bites him, he sets it so close, that he is paid for a long time after. Such is the ende of all princes fauorites. When a Prince after long breathings hath raised a man to great height, he makes it his pastime, at what time he seemes to be at the top of his trauaile, to cast him downe at an instant: when he hath filled him with all wealth, he wrings him after as a sponge: louing none but himself, and thinking euery one made, but to serue, and please him. These blinde courtiers make themselues beleeue, that they haue freends, and many that honor them: neuer considering that as they make semblance to loue, and honor euery body, so others do by them. Their superiors disdaine them, and neuer but with scorne do so much as salute them. Their inferiors salute them because they haue neede of them (I meane of their fortune, of their foode, of their apparell, not of their person) and for their equalls betweene whome commonly friendship consistes, they enuy each other, accuse each other, crosse each other; continually greeued either at their owne harme, or at others good. Nowe what greater hell is there, what greater torment, then enuie? which in truth is nought else but a feauer Hectique of the mind: so they are vtterly frustrate of all frendship, euer iudged by the wisest the chiefe and soueraigne good among men. Will you see it more clearely? Let but fortune turne her backe, euery man turnes from them: let her frowne; euery man lookes aside on them: let them once be disroabed of their triumphall garment, no body will any more knowe them. Againe, let there be apparelled in it the most vnworthie, and infamous whatsoeuer: euen he without difficultie by vertue of his robe, shall inherit all the honours the other had done him. In the
meane time they are puffed vp, and growe proude, as the Asse which caried the image of Isis was for the honors done to the Goddesse, and regard not that it is the fortune they carry which is honored, not themselues, on whome as on Asses, many times she will be caried. But you will say: At least so long as that fortune endured, they were at ease, and had their contentment, and who hath three or foure or more yeeres of happy time, hath not bin all his life vnhappie. True, if this be to be at ease continually to feare to be cast downe from that degree, wherevnto they are raised: and dayly to desire with great trauaile to clime yet higher. Those (my friend) whome thou takest so well at their ease, because thou seest them but without, are within farre otherwise. They are faire built prisons, full within of deepe ditches, and dungeons: full of darkenes, serpents and torments. Thou supposest them lodged at large, and they thinke their lodgings straite. Thou thinkest them very high, and they thinke themselues very lowe. Now as sicke is he, and many times more sicke, who thinkes himselfe so, then who in deed is. Suppose them to be Kings: if they thinke themselues slaues, they are no better: for what are we but by opinion? you see them well followed and attended: and euen those whome they haue chosen for their guard, they distrust. Alone or in company euer they are in feare. Alone they looke behinde them: in company they haue an eye on euery side of them. They drinke in gould and siluer; but in those, not in earth or glasse is poison prepared and dronke. They haue their beds soft and well made: when they lay them to sleepe you shall not heare a mouse stur in the chamber: not so much as a flie shall come neere their faces. Yet neuertheles, where the countreyman sleepes at the fall of a great riuer, at the noise of a market, hauing no other bed but the earth, nor couering but the heauens, these in the middest of all this silence
and delicacie, do nothing but turne from side to side, it seemes still that they heare some body, there rest it selfe is without rest. Lastly, will you knowe what the diuersitie is betwene the most hardly intreated prisoners and them? both are inchained, both loaden with fetters, but that the one hath them of iron, the other of gould, and that the one is tied but by the body, the other by the mind. The prisoner drawes his fetters after him, the courtier weareth his vpon him. The prisoners minde sometimes comforts the paine of his body, and sings in the midst of his miseries: the courtier tormented in minde weerieth incessantly his body, and can neuer giue it rest. And as for the contentment you imagine they haue, you are therein yet more deceiued. You iudge and esteeme them great, because they are raised high: but as fondly, as who should iudge a dwarfe great, for being set on a tower, or on the top of a mountaine. You measure (so good a Geometrician you are) the image with his base, which were conuenient, to knowe his true height, to be measured by itselfe: whereas you regard not the height of the image, but the height of the place it stands vpon. You deeme them great (if in this earth there can be greatnes, which in respect of the whole heauens is but a point.) But could you enter into their mindes, you would iudge, that neither they are great, true greatnes consisting in contempt of those vaine greatnesses, wherevnto they are slaues: nor seeme vnto themselues so, seeing dayly they are aspiring higher, and neuer where they would be. Some one sets downe a bound in his minde. Could I attaine to such a degree, loe, I were content: I would then rest my selfe. Hath he attained it? he geues himselfe not so much as a breathing: he would yet ascend higher. That which is beneath he counts a toy: it is in his opinion but one step. He reputes himselfe lowe, because there is some one higher, in stead of reputing himselfe high, because
there are a million lower. And so high he climes at last, that either his breath failes him by the way, or he slides from the top to the bottome. Or if he get vp by all his trauaile, it is but as to finde himselfe on the top of the Alpes: not aboue the cloudes, windes and stormes: but rather at the deuotion of lightnings, and tempests, and whatsoeuer else horrible, and dangerous is engendred, and conceiued in the aire: which most commonly taketh pleasure to thunderbolt and dash into pouder that proude height of theirs. It may be herein you will agree with me, by reason of the examples wherewith both histories, and mens memories are full. But say you, such at least whome nature hath sent into the world with crownes on their heads, and scepters in their hands: such as from their birth she hath set in that height, as they neede take no paine to ascend: seeme without controuersie exempt from all these iniuries, and by consequence may call themselues happie. It may be in deed they feele lesse such incommodities, hauing bene borne, bred and brought vp among them: as one borne neere the downfalls of Nilus becomes deafe to the sound: in prison, laments not the want of libertie: among the Cimmerians in perpetuall night, wisheth not for day: on the top of the Alpes, thinks not straunge of the mistes, the tempests, the snowes, and the stormes. Yet free doubtles they are not whẽ the lightening often blasteth a flowre of their crownes, or breakes their scepter in their handes: when a drift of snowe ouerwhelmes them; when a miste of heauines, and griefe continually blindeth their wit, and vnderstanding. Crowned they are in deede, but with a crowne of thornes. They beare a scepter: but it is of a reede, more then any thing in the world pliable, and obedient to all windes: it being so far off that such a crowne can cure the maigrims of the minde, and such a scepter keepe off and fray away the griefs and cares which houer
about them: that it is contrariwise the crowne that brings them, and the scepter which from all partes attracts them. O crowne, said the Persian Monarch, who knewe howe heauy thou sittest on the head, would not vouchsafe to take thee vp, though he found thee in his way. This Prince it seemed gaue fortune to the whole world, distributed vnto men haps and mishaps at his pleasure: could in show make euery man content: himselfe in the meane while freely confessing, that in the whole world, which he held in his hand there was nothing but griefe, and vnhappines. And what will all the rest tell vs, if they list to vtter what they found? We will not aske them who haue concluded a miserable life with a dishonorable death: who haue beheld their kingdomes buried before them, and haue in great misery long ouerliued their greatnes. Not of Dionyse of Sicill, more content with a handfull of twigs to whip little children of Corinth in a schoole, then with the scepter, where with he had beaten all Sicill: nor of Sylla, who hauing robbed the whole state of Rome, which had before robbed the whole world, neuer found meanes of rest in himselfe, but by robbing himselfe of his owne estate, with incredible hazard both of his power and authoritie. But demaund we the opinion of King Salomon, a man indued with singuler gifts of God, rich and welthie of all things: who sought for treasure from the Iles. He will teach vs by a booke of purpose, that hauing tried all the felicities of the earth, he found nothing but vanitie, trauaile, and vexation of spirit. Aske we the Emperour Augustus, who peaceably possessed the whole world. He will bewaile his life past, and among infinite toiles wish for the rest of the meanest man of the earth: accounting that day most happy, when he might vnloade himselfe of this insupportable greatnes to liue quietly among the least. Of Tiberius his successor, he will confesse vnto vs, that he holdes the Empire as a