[ To the Right Worshipful] Sir George Howard Knight, Maister of the Quene’s Maiestie’s Armarye.
Every science hauing his peculier commodity, and conducinge to the trauayler and dilligent searcher, a due deserued benefyte (besydes the exercise and shunninge the pestilent monster Idlenes) discloseth the miraculous effect of the Diuinity, and the excellency of his Creature: who breathing life into that sencelesse worke, framed within the mould of humayn Conception, forceth in him by nature and timely institution such capacitye of Science, as not onelye by that knowledge hee glorifyeth his Creator, but also besydes himselfe, helpeth and doth good to other. For profe whereof the Science of that surpassing and delightsome pasture of Theologie, is profitable to teache, argue, reproue, and instruct, that by pacience and consolation, we may conceiue hope of Eternitye. The knowledge of Philosophie cureth the Mynde, auoydeth childish care, expelleth feare, and shunneth fond desyres. O Philosophye, the guide of life, (exclameth Tullie) the inquisitor of Vertue and expeller of vice. Rethorike (affirmeth he) causeth vs to learne that we know not and that we know to teach to other: by the same we exhort, with that we perswade, with that we comfort the afflicted, by it we encourage the astonned, and appease the outragious. Musike, easeth the troubled mynde, lenifyeth sorrowe, comforteth the heauye harted, and erecteth a contemplatyon of heauenlye thinges. Astronomye, reuealeth the nature of the Starres and Planets, presageth dayes and times for the helpe and maintenaunce of life. Poesie teacheth amendment of manners, directeth what things be mete for imitation, and with what detriment wantonnes anoyeth the bodye of man. By meanes of it (Sainct Augustine saith,) he learned many good lessons to profite himselfe and do good to other. To be short euery science is so necessary, as the same taken away, reason is depriued and the Life of Man (of due order and gouernment) defrauded. Thinke (sayth a Greke Oratour) the knowledge of many thinges to bee more precious and excellent, then a Chest heaped vp with abundance of money: for the one quickly fayleth, and the other for euer lasteth. For Scientia (affirmeth hee) is the onelye immortall storehouse of all possessions. Amonges which troupe of Sciences, the knowledge and search of Histories deserueth a place in the chefest rank, and is for example of humaine affayres, a Christal light to shew the pathes of our Auncestors. The same displaieth the counsels, aduises, pollicies, actes, successe, and endes of Kinges, Princes and great men, with the order and discription of time and place. And like a liuely image representeth before our eies the beginning, end and circumstaunce of ech attempt. The same (like a Mistresse of our life) by probable examples stirreth vp our sluggish mindes, to aspyre the eternal glorie of praise and fame, and terrifyeth the desperate and aduenturous, from enterprise of things vnseemely. The same is a passing picture of verity, and an absolute paterne framinge the matter greatter nor lesse then it is. And because I am not ignorant what Encomia innumerable Authors in time past, and wryters of our tyme do attribute vnto that science, and with what titles the Prince of them all decketh the praise of Historicall knowledge, I only refer the worthines to the practisers, and the syngularitye of Histories trauel and delight, to ech willing minde that imploye their leasure and tyme therin. And I for my parte do confesse (that by reading of Histories) I fynd the saying which Tullie aduoucheth of Publius Scipio to bee true: that he was neuer lesse idle, then when he was idle, and neuer lesse alone, then when he was alone, meaning therby, that when he was at best leisure, he was neuer idle, nor when he was alone vnoccupied. For when labor resteth him selfe in me, and leisure refresheth other affaires nothing delights more that vacant tyme, than readinge of Histories in such vulgar speache, wherein my small knowledge taketh repast. And for that my priuat reading might not delyte and pleasure me alone, to auoid the nature of that cankred churle and foe of humain companye, Timon of Athens, that liued but for him selfe, I haue (after my skill) culled some floures and fruites from that pleasaunt store of those my readinges to impart for vniversal gayne and benefite, chosynge rather hereby to followe the liberalitye of Cimon a gentleman of that Cittye, who knowynge hymselfe to bee borne to profite other and for the enriching of his Couutry, not only atchiued maruailous matters for furtherance of Comon wealth, but lefte his Gardens and Orchards open for all men to participate the Fruictes of his pleasure and trauell. Wherby so wel as I can I follow the tract and practice of other, by whose meanes, so manifold sciences in our known toung and translation of Histories be frequent and rife amonge vs. Al which be done after our commodity, pleasure, solace, preseruation and comfort, and without the which we cannot long be sustayned in this miserable lyfe, but shal become not much vnlyke the barbarous, ne discrepant from the sauage sorte. The inuestigatours and bringers to light, wherof direct their eyes and meaning to none other end but for the benefyte of vs and our posteritye, and that our faces be not taynted with the blushing coloure to se the passing diligence of other Countryes by curious imbelishinge of their states with the troublous trauaile of their brayne, and laboursom course of penne. Who altogeather imploi those paynes, that no Science lurke in Corner, that no Knowledge be shut vp in cloysters, that no History remaine vnder the maske and vnknowne attyre of other tongues. Among which crew (I say) I craue an inferiour place and haue vndertaken the vnfolding of sundry Histories from the couerture of foren language for none other purpose and intent but to vniuersal benefyte. Part whereof, two yeares past (almost) were made commune in a former boke, now succedeth a second, furnished withlike ornaments that the other was. The first (by duties chalenge) was addressed to the right honorable the Earle of Warwik, for respect of his honour, and my calling. This the second by lyke band, your worship may iustly clayme as a iust tribute now this moneth of Nouember, payable. Or if your curtesye would not deale so roughly with youre bounden creditoure, yet for duty sake I must acquite and content that which hath so long ben due. The same I offer now not with such vsury and gayne as your beneuolence and syngular bounty, by long forbearing hath deserued, but with such affected will and desyre of recompence, as any man alyue can owe to so rare a friend. Your worship I haue chosen for the firste person of this boke, and the protector of the same (the matter moste specially therin comprised, treating of courtly fashions and maners, and of the customes of loue’s gallantise, and the good or yll successe therof,) because you be an auncient Courtier, and one of the eldest Trayne, and such as hath bene imployed by sundry our Princes, in their affayres of greatest wayght and importance, and for that your selfe in your lustiest tyme (euer bred and brought vp in Court,) haue not ben vnacquainted with those occurrants. If I shoulde stand particularlye to touch the originall of your noble Auncestry, the succession of that renowmed line, their fidelity for graue aduise and counsel, your honowrable education, the mariage of a mighty kyng with one of your sisters, the valiant exploites of your parents againste the Frenche and Scottes, the worthye seruice of your selfe in fielde, wherby you deseruedly wanne the order of Knighthode, the trust which her maiestie reposeth in you, by disposing vnder your charge the store of her Armure, and your worthy preferment to be Maister of her Armary generall. If I should make recitall of your careful industry and painful trauel sustayned, for aunswearing her Maiestye’s expectation, your noble cherishing of the skilful in that science, your good aduancemente of the best to supply the vacant romes, your refusall of the vnworthy: and finally of your modest and curteous dealings in that office, I feare lacke of ability (and not of matter) would want grace and order by further circumstaunce to adde sufficient prayse: yea although my selfe do say nothinge, (but reserue the same in silence to auoyd suspecte of adulation) the very armure and their furnitures do speake, vniuersal testimony doth wonder, and the Readines of the same for tyme of seruice doth aduouch. Which care of things continually resting in your breast, hath atchyued such a tymely diligence, and successe, as when her Maiestye’s aduersary shal be readye to molest, she shal be prest (by God’s assistance) to defend and march. But not to hold your worship long by length of preamble, or to discourse what I might further saye, either in fauour of this boke, or commendation of youre selfe, I meane (for this instant) to leaue the one to general iudgment, and the other to the particular sentence of ech of your acquaintance. Humblye making this onlye sute that my good wil may supplye the imperfection of myne abilitye. And so with my harty prayer for your preseruation to him that is the auctor of life and health, I take my leaue.
From my pore house besides the Tower of London,
the iiij. of Nouember,
1567.