No More Learning

_Sp. _ For ther lacketh emongist thê
sobrietie of mind. _HE. _ Then you had leuer sit fastyng at
your booke, then too make pastime after any suche sorte.
_SP. _ Of thê both: truly I had rather chose to delue.
_H. _ For this is plaine that betwixt the mad mã & the
drûkerd ther is no diuersitie, but that slepe wil helpe the
one his madnes, & with much a doo ye cure of _Physicions_
helpeth the other, but the foole natural differeth nothing
frõ a brute beast except by shape and portrature of body,
yet thei || be lesse miserable whom nature hathe made verye
brutes, then those that walowe theim selues in foule and
beastly lustes. _SP. _ I confesse that. _Hedo. _ But now tell
me, whether you thynke thê sobre and wyse, which for playn
vanities and shadowes of plesure, booth dispice the true
and godlye pleasures of the mynde and chose for them selues
suche thynges as bee but vexacion & sorowe. _SPV. _ I take
it, thei bee not. _Hedo. _ In deede thei bee not drûke with
wyne, but with loue with anger, with auarice, with ambicion,
and other foule and filthie desires, whiche kynde of
drunkenes is farre worse, thê that is gotten with drinking
of wine. Yet _Sirus_ that leude cõspaniõ ||of whom mention
is made in ye commedie, spake witty thynges after he had
slepte hym self soobre, and called too memorie his greate
and moost beastlye drunkenes: but the minde that is infected
with vicious & noughty desire, hath muche a doo too call it
selfe whom agein? How many yeares doeth loue, anger, spite,
sensualitie, excesse, and ambition, trouble and prouoke the
mynde? How many doo wee see, whiche euen from their youth,
too their latter dais neuer awake nor repêt them of the
drunkennes, of ambitiõ, nigardnes, wanton lust, & riatte?
_Spu. _ I haue knowen ouermany of that sorte. _Hedo. _ You
haue graûted that false and fayned good || thinges, are not
too bee estemed for the pure and godly. _Sp. _ And I affirme
that still. _Hedo. _ Nor that there is no true and perfect
pleasure, except it bee taken of honest and godly thynges.
_Spud. _ I confesse that. _He. _ Then (I pray you) bee not
those good that the commune sorte seeke for, they care not
howe? _Spu. _ I thinke they be not. _Hedo. _ Surely if thei
were good, they would not chaunce but onely too good men:
and would make all those vertuous that they happen vntoo.
What maner of pleasure make you that, doo you thinke it too
bee godly, which is not of true & honest thynges, but of
deceatfull: and coometh out of ye shadowes of good thynges?
_Sp. _ || Nay in noo wyse. _He. _ For pleasure maketh vs to
liue merely. _Spu. _ Yea, nothyng so muche. _He. _ Therfore
no man truely liueth pleasauntly, but he that lyueth godly:
that is, whiche vseth and delecteth onli in good thynges:
for vertue of it selfe, maketh a man to habound in all
thynges that bee good, perfete, & prayse worthy: yea, it
onely prouoketh God the fountaine of all goodnes, too loue
and fauour man. _SP. _ I almost consent with you. _HED. _
But now marke howe far they bee from all pleasure, whiche
seeme openly emongist all men too folowe nothyng, but the
inordinate delectation in in thynges carnall. || First their
mynde is vile, and corrupted with the sauour and taste of
noughtie desires, in so muche that if any pleasaunt thing
chaunce them, forthwith it waxeth bitter, and is nought set
by, in like maner as where ye welle hed is corrupted and
stynketh, there ye water must nedes be vnsauery. Agein ther
is no honest pleasure, but that whiche wee receaue with a
sobre and a quiet mynde. For wee see, nothyng reioyseth the
angry man more, thê too bee reuenged on his offenders, but
that pleasure is turned into pain after his rage bee past,
and anger subdued. _Spu. _ I say not the contrary.
_He. _ Finally, suche leude pleasures bee taken of fallible
thinges, therefore || it foloweth that they be but delusiõs
and shadowes. What woulde you say furthermore, if you saw
a mã so deceaued with sorcerie & also other detestable
witchecraftes, eat, drynke, leap, laugh, yea, and clappe
handes for ioye, when ther wer no such thyng there in very
dede, as he beleueth he seeth. _Spu. _ I wolde say he were
both mad and miserable. _Hedo. _ I my self haue been often
in place, where the lyke thyng hath been doone. There was
a priest whiche knewe perfectly by longe experience and
practise, the arte to make thynges seme that they were not,
otherwise called, _deceptio visus_. _Sp. _ He did not lerne
that arte of the holy scripture? _Hedo. _ Yea, || rather of
most popeholy charmes and witchecraftes: that is too saye,
of thinges, cursed, dampnable, and wourthy too bee abhorred.
Certayne ladies & gentlewomen of the courte, spake vnto hym
oftentimes: saiyng, they woulde coo[~m] one day too his
house and see what good chere he kept: reprouyng, greatly
vile and homly fare, and moderate expenses in all thynges.
He graunted they shulde bee welcome, and very instauntly
desired them. And they came fastyng because they would
haue better appetites. Whã they wer set to dyner (as it was
thought) ther wãted noo kynde of delitious meat: they filled
thê selues haboûdantly: after ye feast was || doone, they
gaue moost hearty thanckes, for their galaunte cheare, and
departed, euery one of them vnto their owne lodgynges: but
anone their stomackes beganne too waxe an hungred, they
maruayled what this shuld meane, so soone to be an hungred
and a thirste, after so sumptuous a feast: at the last the
matter was openly knowen and laught at. _Spu. _ Not without a
cause, it had been muche better for thê too haue satisfied
their stomackes at their owne chãbers with a messe of
potage, thê too be fed so delitiousli with vain illusiõs.
_H. _ And as I thîk ye cõmune sort of men ar muche more too
bee laught at, whiche in steede of Godlye thynges, ||chose
vaine and transitory shadowes, and reioyce excedyngly in
suche folishe phansies that turne not afterwarde in too
a laughter, but into euerlasting lamentation and sorow.
_Spudeus_ The more nerelier I note your saiynges, the better
I like thê. _Hedo. _ Go too, let vs graunt for a tyme these
thynges too bee called pleasaunt, that in very dede ar not.
Would yow saye that meeth were swete: whiche had more Aloes
myngled with it, then honye? _Spud. _ I woulde not so say and
if there were but the third part of an ounce of Aloes mixt
with it. _Hedo. _ Or els, would you wishe to bee scabbed
because you haue some pleasure too scratch? _Spud. _ Noo, if
I wer ||D. i|| in my right mynd. _HED. _ Then weigh with your
self how great peyne is intermyngled wyth these false and
wrongly named pleasures, that vnshamefast loue filthie
desire, much eatyng and drinking bring vs vnto: I doo omitte
now that, which is principall grudge of cõscience, enemitie
betwixt God and mã, and expectation of euerlastyng
punishêment. What kynd of pleasure, I pray you is ther in
these thinges, that dooeth not bryng with it a greate heape
of outeward euilles? _SPV. _ What bee thei? _HEDO. _ We ought
to let passe and forbeare in this place auarice, ambition,
wrath, pryde enuy, whiche of their selues bee heuy and
sorowful euylles and || let vs conferre and compare all
those thynges together, that haue the name of some chief and
special pleasure: wher as the agew the hedache, the swelling
of the belly, dulnes of witte, infamy, hurt of memory,
vomyting, decaye of stomacke, tremblyng of the body succede
of ouer muche drynking: thynke you, that the _Epicure_ would
haue estemed any suche lyke pleasure as thys, cõuenient and
wourthy desire? _SPV. _ He woulde saye it wer vtterly too bee
refused. _HEDONi. _ Wheras young men also with hauntynge of
whores (as it is dayly seene) catche the newe leprosie, nowe
otherwyse named Jobs agew, and some cal it the scabbes of
Naples, throughe ||D. ii|| which desease they feele often ye
most extreme and cruell paines of deathe euen in this lyfe,
and cary about a bodye resemblyng very much some dead coarse
or carryn, do you thynke that thei apply them selues vnto
godlye pleasure. _SPVD. _ Noo, for after thei haue been often
familiar with their prety ones, then they must goo streighte
too the barbours, that chaunceth continuallye vnto all
whoremongers. _HED. _ Now fayne that ther wer a lyke measure
of pain and plesure, would ye then require too haue the
toothache so longe as the pleasure of quaffing & whordome
endured? _SPV. _ Verely I had rather wãt them booth, for ther
is no commoditie nor || vantage to bye pleasure with payn
but only to chaûg one thing for another, but the best choise
is nowe not too affectionate anye such leudnes, for _MAR.
Tullius_ calleth that an inward greife & sorow. _He. _ But
now ye prouocation & entisemêt of vnleful plesure, besides
that it is much lesse then the pain which it bringeth with
it, it is also a thing of a very short time: but if the
leprosye bee ones caught, it tourmêteth mê al their life
daies very pitifully & oftentimes cõstraineth them to wyshe
for death before thei cã dye. _SP. _ Such disciples as those
then, the _Epicure_ would not knowe. _HED. _ For the most
part pouertie, a very miserable and painfull burden,
foloweth ||D. iii. || lechery, of immoderate lust cõmeth the
palsie, tremblyng of ye senewes, bleardnes of eyes, and
blyndnes, the leprosie and not these only, is it not a
proper pece of worke (I pray you) to chaûg this short
pleasure neyther honest nor yet godly, for so manye euylles
far more greuouse and of muche longer continuance.
_SP. _ Although there shoulde no pain com of it, I esteme
hym to bee a very fond occupier, which would chaûge precious
stones for glasse. _HE. _ You meane that would lose the godly
pleasures of the mynde, for the coloured pleasures of ye
body. _SP. _ That is my meanyng. _HE. _ But nowe let vs come
to a more perfecter supputation, neither the agewe || nor
yet pouerty foloweth alwaies carnal pleasure, nor the new
leprosy or els the palsy wait not on at al times the great &
excessiue vse of lecherye, but grudge of cõsiêce euermore is
a folower & sure companiõ of al vnleaful pleasure, then the
which as it is plainly agreed betwixt vs, nothyng is more
miserable. _SPV. _ Yea, rather it grudgeth their cõscience
sometyme before hande, & in the self pleasure it pricketh
their mynde, yet ther bee some that you woulde say, want
this motion and feelyng. _HE. _ Thei bee nowe therfore in
worse estate & cõditiõ. Who would not rather feele payne,
then too haue hys body lacke any perfecte sence, truly from
some ether intemperatnes ||D. iiii. || of euel desires, euen
like as it were a certayne kynde of drunkenes, or els wont
and cõmune haunt of vice which ar so hardened in them, that
they take a way ye felyng & cõsideration of euyl in their
youth, so that whã agee commeth vpõ them beside other
infinitie hurtes and perturbations agaynst whose commyng
thei should haue layd vp the deedes of their former lyfe,
as a special iuwel and treasure: then thei stande greatly in
fear of death, a thyng emongist all other most ineuitable,
& that no man canne shonne: yea, and the more they haue
heretofore been dysmayed and lacked their sences, the
greater now is their vnquietnes and grudge of || conscience,
then truely the mynde is sodenly awaked whether it wol or
noo, and verely wher as olde agee is alwayes sad and heuy
of it selfe for as muche as it is in subiection and bondage
vnto many incommodities of nature, but then it is farre more
wretchede and also fylthye, if the mynde vnquiet with it
selfe shal trouble it also: feastes, ryotous banketyng,
syngyng, and daunsynge, with manye suche other wanton toyes
& pastimes which he was communely yeouê vnto & thought very
plesaût when he was young, bee nowe paynfull vnto hym beyng
olde and crooked, ne agee hath nothyng too comforte and
fortifi || it selfe withall, but onely too remembre that it
hath passed ouer the course of yeares in vertue and godly
liuyng and conceaue a special trust too obtaine herafter a
better kynde of life. These be the two staues wherevpon age
is stayed, & if in their steed you wyll lay on hym these
two burdens: that is, memorie how synfully he hath ledde his
life, and desperation of the felicitie that is too coome,
I praye you what liuyng thyng can bee feyned too suffre
sorer punishement and greater miserie? _spu. _ Verely I can
see nothyng although some man woulde saye an olde horse.
_hedo. _ Then to cõclude it is too late to waxe wise And that
saiyng appereth now || too bee very true. Carefull mornynges
doo oftentymes folowe mery euentides, and all vayne and
outragious mirth euer turneth into sorowfull sighes: yea, &
they shulde haue considered both that there is noo pleasure
aboue ye ioyfulnes of the heart, and that chearefull mynde
maketh agee too florishe, an heauy spirit consumeth the
boones, & also that all the dayes of the poore are euell:
that is, sorowfull and wretched. And agayne a quiet mynde is
lyke a contynuall feaste. _SPVDEVS. _ Therfore they bee wyse,
that thryue in tyme, and gather too gether necessaries for
that agee coo[~m]. _HEDONI. _ The holy scripture intreateth
not soo wordely || as too measure the felicitie and highe
consolation of manne, by the goodes of fortune, onely he
is very poore, that is destitute and voyde of al grace &
vertue, and standeth in boundage and debette, bothe of bodye
& solle vnto that tyranne oure moost foo & mortall enemie
the deuill. _SPV. _ Surely he is one that is veri rigorous
and impatient in demaundynge of his dutie. _HE. _ Moreouer
that man is ryche, whiche fyndeth mercye and foryeouenes at
the handes of god. What shuld he feare, that hath suche a
protectour? Whether men? where as playnely theyr hole power
may lesse do agaêst God, then the bytyng of a gnat, ||
hurteth the Elephant. Whether death? truly that is a right
passage for good men vnto all sufficient ioy and perfection
accordyng too the iust reward of true religion and vertue.
Whether hell? For as in that the holy prophete speaketh
boldely vnto God. Although I shulde walke in the middest of
the shadow of death, I wil not feare any euils because ye
art with me. Wherfore shulde he stande in feare of deuils,
whiche beareth in his heart hym, that maketh the deuils too
tremble and quake. For in diuers places the holye scripture
praiseth and declareth opêly the mynde of a vertuous man,
too bee the right temple of God. And this to bee so true
that || that it is not too bee spoken agaynst, ne in any
wise shuld bee denied. _SPV. _ Forsoth I can not see, by what
reason these saiynges of yours can be confuted al thoughe
they seme too varye muche from the vulgar and cõmune
opinion of men. _HEDO. _ Why doo they soo? _SPV. _ After
your reasonyng euery honest poore man, shulde liue a more
pleasaunt life, then any other, how much soeuer he did
haboûd in riches, honour, and dignitie: and breuely though
he had all kynde of pleasures. _HE. _ Adde this too it (if it
please you) too bee a kyng, yea, or an emperour if you take
away a quiet mynd with it selfe, I dare boldely say, that
the poore man sklenderlye || and homely appareled, made
weake with fastyng, watchyng, great toile and labour, and
that hath scarcely a groat in all the worlde, so that his
mynde bee godly, he lyueth more deliciously then that man
whiche hathe fyue hûdreth times greater pleasures &
delicates, then euer had _Sardanapalus_. _SP. _ Why is it
thê, that we see communely those that bee poore looke farre
more heuely then riche men. _HED. _ Because some of them bee
twise poore, eyther some desease, nedines, watchyng, labour,
nakednesse, doo soo weaken the state of their bodyes, that
by reason therof, the chearefulnes of their myndes neuer
sheweth it selfe, neyther in these thinges, || nor yet in
their deathe. The mynde, forsooth thoughe it bee inclosed
within this mortal bodye, yet for that it is of a stronger
nature, it sõwhat trãsfourmeth and fascioneth the bodie
after it selfe, especially if the vehement instigation of
the spirit approche the violent inclination of nature: this
is the cause we see oftentymes suche men as bee vertuous die
more cherefully, then those that make pastyme contynually,
& bee yeouê vnto all kynd of pleasures. _SP. _ In very dede,
I haue meruayled oftten at that thyng. _HED_ Forsoothe it is
not a thyng too bee marueyled at, though that there shulde
bee vnspeakeable || ioy and comforte where God is present,
whiche is the heed of all mirth and gladnes, nowe this is
no straunge thyng, althoughe the mynde of a godly man doo
reioyce contynually in this mortall bodye: where as if the
same mynde or spirit discended into the lowest place of hell
shuld lose no parte of felicitie, for whersoeuer is a pure
mynd, there is god, wher God is: there is paradise, ther is
heauen, ther is felicitie, wher felicitie is: ther is the
true ioy and synsere gladnes. _SP. _ But yet they shuld liue
more pleasauntly, if certein incommodities were taken from
them, and had suche pastymes as eyther they dispise orels
can not get nor attaine vnto. _HE. _ ||E. i. || (I praye you)
doo you meane, suche incommodities as by the commune course
of nature folow the cõdition or state of mã: as hunger,
thirst, desease, werynes, age, death, lyghtnyng yearthquake,
fluddes & battail? _SPV. _ I meane other, and these also.
_HEDO. _ Then we intreate styll of mortal thynges and not of
immortal, & yet in these euils the state of vertuous men,
may bee better borne withal, then of suche as seeke for the
pleasures of the body they care not howe. _SPV. _ Why so:
_HEDO. _ Especyally because their myndes bee accustomed and
hardened with most sure and moderate gouernaunce of reason
against al outragious affections of the mind || and they
take more patiently those thynges that cannot bee shonned
then the other sort doo Furthermore, for as muche as thei
perceiue, all such thynges ar sent of god, either for the
punishment of their faultes, or els too excitate and sturre
them vp vnto vertue, then thei as meeke and obediente
chyldren receiue them from the hãd of their mercifull
father, not only desireously, but also chearefully and
geue thankes also, namely for so merciful punyshment and
inestimable gaines. _SPV. _ But many doo occatiõ griefes
vnto thê selues. _HEDO. _ But mo seeke remedye at the
_Phisicions_, either to preserue their bodies in helth or
elles if they bee sycke, too ||E. ii. || recouer health, but
willyngly too cause their owne sorowes, that is, pouertie,
sickenes, persecution, slaunder, excepte the loue of God
compel vs therto, it is no vertue but folishnes: but as
often as thei bee punyshed for Christ and iustice sake,
who dar bee so bold as too cal them beggers & wretches?
whã the Lord himself very famyliarly calleth them blessed,
and commaûdeth vs to reioyse for their state and condition.
_SPV. _ Neuerthelesse, these thynges haue a certayne payne
and griefe. _HEDO. _ Thei haue, but on the onesyde, what for
fear of hel, and the other for hoope of euerlastynge ioye,
the payne is sone past and forgottê Now tell me if you
knewe that || you myghte neuer bee sycke, or elles that you
shoulde feele no payne of your body in your life tyme, if
you woulde but ones suffer your vtter skinne too bee prycked
with a pynnes puinct, would you not gladly and with all your
very heart suffer then so lytle a payne as that is?
_SPV_ Verye gladlye, yea, rather if I knewe perfectlye
that my teeth would neuer ake, I would willynglye suffer
too bee prycked depe with a nedle, and too haue both mine
eares bored through with a bodkin. _HEDO. _ Surely what payne
soeuer happeneth in this lyfe, it is lesse and shorter,
compared with the eternall paines, then is the soden pricke
of a needle, incomparisõ of the ||E. iii. || lyfe of man
though it bee neuer so long, for there is no conuenience or
proportion of the thyng that hath ende, and that whych is
infinite. _SPV. _ You speake very truly. _HEDO.
_ Now if a man
coulde fully perswade you, that you should neuer feele payne
in al your life, if you did but ones deuide the flame of ye
fyre, with your hande, whyche thyng vndoughtely _Pithagoras_
forbade, woulde you not gladlye doo it? _SPV. _ Yea, on that
condicion I had liefer doo it an hundred times, if I knew
precisely the promiser would kepe touch. _HE. _ It is playne
God cannot deceaue. But now that feelyng of paine in the
fyre is longer vnto the whole lyfe of man, then is the
||lyfe of mã, in respect of the heauenlye ioye, althoughe
it were thrise so long as ye yeares of _Nestor_, for that
casting of the hand in the fyre thoughe it bee neuer so
shorte, yet it is some parte of hys lyfe, but the whole
lyfe of man is noo portion of tyme in respect of the eternal
lyfe. _SPV. _ I haue nothyng too saye against you.
_HEDO. _ Doo you then thyncke that anye affliction or
tourment can disquiet those that prepare them selues wyth a
chearful hearte and a stedfast hoope vnto the kyngedome of
God, wher as the course of this lyfe is nowe so shorte?
_SPVDE. _ I thinke not, if thei haue a sure perswasion and a
constant hope too attayne it. _HEDO. _ I coome ||E. iiii. || now
vnto those pleasures, whiche you obiected agaynst me, they
do wythdrawe them selues from daunsynge, bankettynge, from
pleasaunte seeghtes, they dispyce all these thynges, as
thus: for to haue the vse of thinges farre more ioyfulle,
and haue as great pleasure as these bee, but after another
sorte: the eye hath not seene, the eare hath not heard,
nor the heart of man cannot thyncke what consolations _GOD_
hathe ordeined for them that loue hym. Sayncte Paule knewe
what maner of thynges shoulde bee the songes, queeres,
daunsynges, and bankettes of vertuous myndes, yea, in this
lyfe. _SPVDEVS_ but there bee some leafull || pleasures,
whyche they vtterlye refuse. _HEDONIVS. _ That maye bee, for
the immoderate vse of leafull and godly games or pastymes,
is vnleaful: and if you wyll excepte this one thing onlye,
in al other thei excelle whiche seeme too leade a paynfull
lyfe, and whome we take too bee ouerwhelmed with all kynd of
miseries. Now I prai you what more roialler sight can ther
be, then ye cõtêplatiõ of this world? and such men as ye be
in fauour of god keping his holy cõmaûdemêtes & loue his
most blessed testamêt, receiue far geater pleasure in the
syght therof, then thother sorte doo, for while thei behold
wyth ouercurious eyes, ye wõderful worke, their mynde || is
troubled because they can not compasse for what purpose he
doeth such thinges, then thei improue the moost righte and
wise gouernour of all and murmour at his doinges as though
they were goddes of reprehension: and often finde faute with
that lady nature, and saye that she is vnnaturall, whiche
taunt forsooth with as muche spite as can bee shewed with
woordes, greueth nature: but truely it reboundeth on hym,
that made nature, if there bee any at all. But the vertuous
man with godly & simple eyes beholdeth with an excedyng
reioyce of heart the workes of his Lorde and father highly
praysyng thê all, and neither reprehêdeth nor || findeth
faut with any of thê, but for euery thyng yeoueth moste
hearty thankes, when he considereth that al were made for
the loue of man. And so in al thynges, he praieth vnto the
infinite power, deuine wisedome, & goodnes of the maker,
wherof he perceiueth moste euident tokens in thynges that
bee here created. Now fain that there were suche a palace in
verie deede as _Apuleus_ faineth, or els one that were more
royall and gorgeouse, and that you shoulde take twoo thither
with you too beholde it, the one a straunger, whiche gooeth
for this intent onely too see the thyng, and the other the
seruaût or soonne of hym that firste causeth this buyldyng,
whether || will haue more delectie in it? the straunger, too
whom suche maner of house dooeth nothyng appartain, or the
soonne whiche beholdeth with greate ioye and pleasure, the
witte, riches, and magnificence of his deerely beloued
father, especially when he dooeth consider all this worke
was made for his sake. _Sp. _ Your question is too plain:
for they most cõmunely that bee of euill condicions, knowe
that heauen and all thinges contained therin, were made for
mannes sake. _HEDO. _ Almoste al knowe that, but some dooe
not remembre it, shewyng thêselues vnthãkeful for the great
and exhuberãt benefittes of god, & al though thei remember
it, yet that mã taketh || greater delight in the sight of it
whiche hath more loue vnto the maker therof, in like maner
as, he more chearfully wyll behold the element whiche
aspireth towarde the eternall life. _SPV. _ Your saiynges
are muche like too bee true. _HED. _ Nowe the pleasures of
feastes dooeth not consist in the delicates of the mouth,
nor in the good sauces of cookes, but in health of body
and appetite of stomacke. You may not thynke that any
delicious person suppeth more pleasauntly hauyng before hym
partriches, turtelles, leuerettes, bekers, sturgeon, and
lamprayes: then a vertuous man hauyng nothîg too eat, but
onely bread potage, or wortes: and nothyng || too drynke,
but water, single bere, or wyne well alayde, be cause he
taketh these thinges as prepared of God vnto all lyuyng
creatures, and that they bee now yeouê vnto him of his
gentyll and mercifull father, praier maketh euery thyng
too sauour well. The petition in ye begynnyng of dyner
sanctifieth all thynges and in a while after there is
recited some holy lesson of the woorde of God: whiche more
refresheth the minde, then meate the body, and grace after
all this. Finally he riseth from the table, not ful: but
recreated, not laden, but refreshed: yea, refreshed both in
spirit and bodie, thynke you that any chief deuiser of these
muche vsed bãkets, & || deintye delicaces fareth nowe more
deliciously? _SPudeus. _ But in _Venus_ there is greate
delectacions if we beleue _Arestotell_. _Hed. _ And in this
behalfe the vertuous manne far excelleth as well as in good
fare, wiegh you now the matter as it is, the better a manne
loueth his wife, the more he delecteth in the good felowship
and familiaritie that is betwene theim after the course
of nature. Furthermore, no menne louê their wiues more
vehemêtly then thei that loue theim euê soo, as Christ loued
the churche. For thei that loue thê for the desire of bodely
pleasure, loue thê not. More ouer, the seldomer any man
dooeth accompany with his wife, the greater pleasure, it ||
is to hym afterwarde, and that thyng the wãtõ poete knew
full well whiche writeth, rare and seldome vse stereth vp
pleasures. Albeit, the lest parte of pleasure is in the
familiare company betwene theim. There is forsothe far
greater in the continuall leadyng of their liues too gether,
whiche emongest none can be so plesaunt as those that loue
syncerely and faithfully together in godly and christian
loue, and loue a like one the other. In the other sort, oftê
whêthe pleasure of ye body decaieth & waxeth old loue waxeth
coold & is sone forgottõ, but emõgest right christê mê, the
more ye the lust of ye flesh decreaseth & vanisheth away,
ye more thê al godly loue encreseth || Are you not yet
perswaded that none lyue more pleasauntly thê they whiche
liue continually in vertue and true religiõ of god?
_SP. _ Would god all men were as well perswaded in that
thyng. _He. _ And if they bee Epicures that lyue pleasauntli:
none bee righter Epicures then they that liue vertuously,
and if we wyll that euery thyng haue it right name none
deserueth more ye cogname of an Epicure, then that Prince of
all godly wisedome too whõ most reuerêtly we ought alwaies
too praye: for in the greeke tonge an Epicure signifieth
an helper. Nowe whan the lawe of nature was first corrupted
with sinne, whê the law of Moses did rather prouoke euil
desires ||F. i. || then remedy them. Whã the tyraunte Sathanas
reygned in this worlde freely and wythout punishement, then
thys prynce onely, dyd sodenlye helpe mankynde redy to
perishe: wherfore thei erre shamefully which scoff and
bable that _CHRIST_ was one that was sadd and of a
malancolye nature, & that he hath prouoked vs vnto an
vnpleasaunt kynde of lyfe, for onely he did shewe a kind
of liuing most godly and fullest of al true pleasure, if
we might haue the stone of _Tantalus_ taken awaye from vs.
_SPVD. _ What darke saiyng is this? _EDO. _ It is a mery tale
too laugh at, but this bourd induceth verye graue and sadde
thynges. _SPV. _ I tary too heare ||this mery conceite, that
you name too bee so sage a matter. _HE_ Thei whiche gaue
their studye and diligence to colour and set furth the
preceptes of Philosophie wyth subtil fables, declare that
there was one _Tantalus_ broughte vnto the table of the
goddes, whych was euer furnished wyth all good fare, and
most nete and sumptuous that myght bee, whan thys straunger
shoulde take hys leave, Iupyter thought it was for his great
liberalitie and highe renoume, that his guest shuld not
depart wythout some rewarde, he wylled him therfore too
aske what he woulde, and he shoulde haue it: _Tantalus_
(forsooth) lyke a verye leude and foolyshe person, ||F. ii. ||
for that he sette all the felicitie and pleasure of man in
the delectation of the bely, and glotonye, desired but
only too sytte at suche a table all the dayes of hys life,
Iupiter graunted him his desire, and shortly his vow was
there stablished and ratifyed. _Tantalus_ nowe sytteth at
the table furnyshed wyth all kindes of delicates, such
drinke as the goddes druncke of was set on the table, and
there wanted no rooses nor odours that could yeoue any swete
smel before the Goddes, _Ganymedes_ the buttler or one lyke
vnto hym, standeth euer redye, the _Muses_ stande rounde
aboute syngyng pleasauntly, mery _Silenus_ daunseth, ne ther
wanted noo fooles || too laugh at, and breuely, there was
euerye thynge that coulde delyght any sence of mã but
emongist all these, _Tantalus_ sytteth all sadde, syghyng,
and vnquiet with hym selfe, neither laughing nor yet
touching such thynges as were set before hym _SPVDE. _ What
was the cause? _HED. _ Over his head as he sate there hãged
by an heere a great stone euer lyke too fall. _SPV. _ I
woulde then haue conueied my selfe from suche a table.
_HEDO_ But his vowe had bound hym too the contrarye, for
Iupyter is not so easye too intreate as oure _GOD_, which
dooeth vnloose the pernitious vowes of menne, that bee made
contrary vnto his holy woord, if thei bee ||F. iii. || penitent
and sorye therfore, or elles it myght bee thus, the same
stoone that woulde not suffer hym too eate, would neither
suffer hym to ryse, for if he had but ones moued he shuld
haue been quashed al in peeses with the fall thereof.
_SPVDE. _ You haue shewed a very mery fable _HEDON. _ But nowe
heare that thing, which you wil not laugh at: the commune
people seeke too haue a pleasaunt life in outwarde thynges,
where as noothyng can yeoue that, but onely a constant and a
quiet mind: for surely a far heuier stone hangeth ouer these
that grudge with them selues, then hanged ouer _Tantalus_:
it only hangeth not ouer them, but greueth and || oppresseth
the mynde, ne the mind is not troubled wyth any vayn hoope,
but looketh euery houre to bee caste in too the paynes of
hell, I praye you what can bee so pleasaunt emongist all
thinges that bee yeouen vnto man, that coulde reioyse the
mynde, whyche were oppressed wyth suche a stoone?
_SPVDE. _ Truely there is nothyng but madnes, or elles
incredulitie. _HEDO. _ Yf younge menne woulde weygh these
thynges, that bee quyckly prouoked and entised with pleasure
as it were wyth the cuppe of _Circes_, whiche in steade of
theyr greatest pleasures receiue poysone myxte with honye.
Howe circumspecte would they bee too doo anye thynge
||F. iiii|| vnaduisedly that shoulde grudge their mindes
afterward? What thinge is it that thei would not doo too
haue suche a godly treasure in store against their latter
daies? that is a minde knowyng it selfe cleane & honest and
a name that hath not been defiled at any time. But what
thyng now is more miserable then is agee? Whan it beholdeth,
and loketh backward on thinges that be past seeth plainly
with great grudg of conscience howe fayre thynges he hathe
despiced and sette lyght by, (that is, howe farre he hath
discented and gone astray from the promyses made vnto God in
baptime) & agayn, how foule & noughty thîges he hath clipped
and enbraced, and whã || hee looketh forwarde, hee seeth
then the daye of iudgemente drawe neere, and shortely after
the eternall punyshemente of of hell. _SPVDE. _ I esteme
theim most happie whych haue neuer defyled theyr youthe,
but euer haue increased in vertu, til thei haue coomne vnto
the last puincte of age. _HEDO. _ Next them thei ar too bee
commended that haue wythdrawne theim selues from the folie
of youth in tyme. _SPVDE. _ But what councel wil you yeoue
agee that is in suche great myserie. _HEDO. _ No man shoulde
dispayre so long as life endureth, I wyl exhorte him to
flee for helpe vnto the infinitie mercye & gentilnes of God.
_SP. _ But the longer that he hath liued || the heape of his
synnes hath euer waxen greate and greater, so that nowe it
passeth the nomber of the sandes in the sea, _HE_ But the
mercies of our lord far excede those sãdes, for although the
sande can not bee numbred of manne, yet hit hath an ende,
but the mercie of God neither knoweth ende, ne measure.
_SP. _ Yea but he hath no space that shall dye by and by,
_HEDONI. _ The lesse tyme he hath the more feruêtly he should
cal vnto god for grace, that thyng is long inough before
God, whiche is of suche power as too ascende from the yearth
vnto heauê, for a short prayer forsoth streght entreth
heauê, if it bee made with a vehemêt spirit. It is written,
that || ye womã synner spoken of in the gospell did penaunce
al her life dayes: but with how fewe wordes again did the
thief obtain Paradise in the houre of death? If he will
crye with hearte and mynde, God haue mercie on me after
thy great mercie: God wil take awaye from hym _Tantalus_
stone and yeoue in his hea-
ryng ioye and cõfort
and his bones hu-
miled throughe
cõtrition, wil
reioyse
that
he
hath his synnes
foryeouen
hym.

*FINIS. *

* * * * *

Imprinted at London within the
precinct of the late dissolued house
of the gray Friers, by Richarde
Grafton, Printer too the
Princes grace.
the. XXIX.
daie of Iuly, the yere
of our Lorde.

[C]Two dyaloges
wrytten in laten
by the famous clerke. D. Eras-
mus of Roterodame/ one called
Polyphemus or the gospeller/
the other dysposyng of thynges
and names/ translated
in to Englyshe by
Edmonde
Becke.
And prynted at Cantorbury
in saynt Paules paryshe
by Johñ Mychell.
[+]

* * * * *


The preface to the Reader.

Lucius Anneus Seneca amonge many other pratie
saienges (gentle reder) hathe this also, whiche in
my iudgement is as trew as it is wittie. Rogãdo
cogit qui rogat superior. And in effecte is thus
moch to say, yf a mãnes superior or his better
desyre any thige, he might aswell cõmãde it by
authoritie as ones to desyre it.

A gentleman a nere cosyn of myne, but moch nerer
in fryndshyp, eftesones dyd instant and moue me to
translate these two dyaloges folowynge, to whose
getlenes I am so moch obliged, indetted and
bounde, that he myght well haue cõmaunded me to
this and more paynes: to whome I do not onely owe
seruyce, but my selfe also. And in accõplysshynge
of his most honest request (partly by cause I
wolde not the moost inhumane fawte of Ingratitude
shuld wor||thely be imputed to me, & that I
might in this thynge also (accordynge to my
bounden dutie) gratifie my frende) I haue hassard
my selfe in these daungerous dayes, where many
are so capcyous, some prone and redy to malygne &
depraue, and fewe whose eares are not so
festidious, tendre, and redy to please, that in
very tryfles & thynges of small importaunce, yet
exacte dylygence and exquisite iudgement is loked
for and requyred, of them whiche at this present
wyll attempte to translate any boke be it that the
matter be neuer so base. But what diligence I have
enployed in the translaciõ hereof I referre it to
the iudgement of the lerned sort, whiche cõferynge
my translacion with the laten dyaloges, I dowte
not wyl condone and pardone my boldnesse, in that
that I chalenge the semblable lybertie whiche the
translatours of this tyme iustlie chalenge. For
some heretofore submytting them selfe to
seruytude, haue lytle ||respecte to the
obseruaciõ of the thyng which in translacyõ is of
all other most necessary and requisite, that is to
saye, to rendre the sence & the very meanyng of
the author, not so relygyouslie addicte to
translate worde for worde, for so the sence of the
author is oftentimes corrupted & depraued, and
neyther the grace of the one tonge nor yet of the
other is truely observed or aptlie expressed. The
lerned knoweth that euery tonge hathe his peculyer
proprietie, phrase, maner of locucion, enargies
and vehemêcie, which so aptlie in any other tõg
can not be expressed. Yf I shal perceyue this my
symple doinge to be thankefully taken, and in good
parte accepted, it shall encorage me hereafter to
attempte the translaciõ of some bokes dysposing of
matters bothe delectable, frutefull, & expedient
to be knowen, by the grace of God, who gyuynge me
quyetnes of mynde, lybertie, and abylytie, shall
not desyste to communicat the frute of my
||spare howers, to such as are not lerned in
the laten tonge: to whome I dedycat the fyrste
frutes of this my symple translacyon.


* * * * *

A declaracion of the names.

Poliphemus sygnifieth, valyant
or noble, and in an other sygnifi-
cacion, talcatyfe or clybbe of tong. The
name of a Gyant called Cyclops, ha-
uynge but one eye in his forhed, of a
huge stature and a myghtie personage.
And is aplyed here to sygnifie a great
freke or a lubber, as this Poliphemus
was, whiche beynge a man of warre or
a courtyer, had a newe testament in his
hande, and loked buselie for some
sentence or text of scrypture
and that Cannius his
companyõ espyed
and sayd to
hî as fo-
loweth.


* * * * *

[C]The parsons names are Cannius and Poliphemus.

Cannius. what hunt Polipheme for here? Poliphemus.
Aske ye what I hunt for here, and yet ye se me
haue neyther dogges, dart, Jauelyn, nor huntyng
staffe. Cannius. Paraduenture ye hunt after some
praty nymphe of the couert. Poliphemus. By my
trouth and well coniectured, be holde what a
goodly pursenet, or a hay I haue here in my hande.
Cannius. Benedicite, what a straunge syght is
this, me thinke I se Bachus in a lyons skin,
Poliphemus with a boke in his hande. This is a
dogge in a doblet, a sowe with a sadle, of all
that euer I se it is a non decet. Poliphe. I haue
not onely paynted and garnyshed my boke with
saffron, but also I haue lymmed it withe Sinople,
asaphetida, redleed, vermilõ, and byse. Can. It is
a warlyke boke, for it is furnished with knottes,
tassils ||plates, claspes, and brasen bullyons.
Poliphe. Take the boke in your hand and loke
within it. Canni. I se it wery well. Truly it
is a praty boke, but me thynkes ye haue not yet
trymmed it sufficiently for all your cost ye have
bestowed upon it. Poliphe. Why what lackes it?
Canni. Thou shuldest haue set thyne armes upon it.
Poliphemus. what armes I beseche the? Cãnius. Mary
the heed of Silenus, an olde iolthed drunkard
totynge out of a hoggeshed or a tunne, but in good
ernest, wherof dothe your boke dyspose or
intreate? dothe it teache the art and crafte to
drynke a duetaunt? Poli. Take hede in goddes name
what ye say lest ye bolt out a blasphemie before
ye be ware. Cãnius. why bydde ye me take hede what
I saye? is there any holy matter in the boke?
Poli. what mã it is the gospell boke, I trow there
is nothynge can be more holye. Cannius. God for
thy grace what hathe Poliphemus to do withe the
gospell? ||Poli. Nay why do ye not aske what a
chrysten man hathe to do with christe? Cannius.
I can not tell but me thynkes a rousty byll or a
halbard wold become such a great lubber or a
slouyn as thou arte a great deale better, for yf
it were my chaûce to mete such one and knewe
him not upon seeborde, and he loked so lyke a
knaue and a ruffyã as thou dost I wolde take hym
for a pirate or a rouer upon the see/ and if I met
such one in the wood for an arrante thefe, and a
man murderer. Poli. yea good syr but the gospell
teache vs this same lesson, that we shuld not
iudge any person by his loke or by his externall &
outwarde apparaunce. For lyke wyse as many tymes
vnder a graye freers coote a tyrannous mynde lyeth
secretly hyd, eue so a polled heed, a crispe or a
twyrled berde, a frowninge, a ferse, or a dogged
loke, a cappe, or a hat with an oystrich fether, a
soldyers cassocke, a payre of hoose all to cut and
manglyd, may co||uer an euangelycall mynde.
Cannius. why not, mary God forbyd elles, yea &
many tymes a symple shepe lyeth hyd in a wolfes
skynne, and yf a man maye credite and beleue the
fables of Aesope, an asse maye lye secretely
unknowen by cause he is in a lyons skynne.
Poliphe. Naye I knowe hym whiche bereth a shepe
vpon his heed, and a sore in his brest, to whome I
wold wysshe with al my hart that he had as whyte
and as fauorable frendes as he hathe blacke eyes.
And I wolde wisshe also that he were as well guylt
ouer and ouer as he hathe a colour mete to take
guyltynge. Canni. Yf ye take hym to were a shepe
vpon his heed, that weareth a cappe of woll, howe
greuously than art thou lodyn, or what an
excedynge heuy burdê bearest thou then I praye the
whiche bearest a hoole shepe and an ostryche to
vpon thy heed? But what saye ye to hî doth not
he more folyssly which beareth a byrd vpon his
heed, and an asse in his ||brest. Poliphemus.
There ye nypped & taunted me in dede. Cannius. But
I wolde saye this geere dyd wonderous wel yf this
gospel boke dyd so adourne the with vertue as thou
hast adourned lymmed, and gorgiously garnysshed it
with many gay goodly glystryng ornamentes. Mary
syr thou hast set it forth in his ryght colours in
dede, wolde to god it might so adourne the with
good cõdiciõs that thou myghtest ones lerne to be
an honest man. Poli. There shall be no defaute in
me, I tell you I wyll do my diligence. Can. Naye
there is no doute of that, there shall be no more
faute in you now I dare say then was wonte to be.
Poli. Yea but (youre tarte tauntes, and youre
churlysshe checkes, and raylynges set asyde) tell
me I pray the this one thynge, do you thus
disprayse, condempne, or fynde faute with them
whiche caryeth aboute with them the newe testament
or the gospel boke? Canni. No by my fayth do I not
good ||praty man. Poliphe. Call ye me but a
praty one and I am hygher then you by ye length
of a good asses heed. Can. I thynke not fully so
moche yf the asse stretch forth his eares, but go
to it skyllis no matter of that, let it passe, he
that bare Christ vpon his backe was called
Christofer, and thou whiche bearest the gospell
boke aboute with the shall for Poliphemus be
called the gospeller or the gospell bearer. Polip.
Do not you counte it an holy thynge to cary aboute
with a man the newe testament? Cãni. why no syr by
my trouth do I not, except thou graunte the very
asses to be holy to. Poli. How can an asse be
holy?