OF FRIENDSHIP

Considering the proceeding of a Painters worke I have, a desire hath

possessed mee to imitate him: He maketh choice of the most

convenient place and middle of everie wall, there to place a

picture, laboured with all his skill and sufficiencie; and all void

places about it he filleth up with antike Boscage [Footnote:

Foliated ornament] or Crotesko [Footnote: Grotesque] works; which

are fantasticall pictures, having no grace, but in the variety and

strangenesse of them. And what are these my compositions in truth,

other than antike workes, and monstrous bodies, patched and hudled

up together of divers members, without any certaine or well ordered

figure, having neither order, dependencie, or proportion, but

casuall and framed by chance?

Definit in piscem mulier formosa superne.

[Footnote: Hon. Art. Poet. 4.]

A woman faire for parts superior,

Ends in a fish for parts inferior.

Touching this second point I goe as farre as my Painter, but for the

other and better part I am farre behinde: for my sufficiency

reacheth not so farre as that I dare undertake a rich, a polished,

and, according to true skill, an art-like table. I have advised

myselfe to borrow one of Steven de la Boetie, who with this kinde of

worke shall honour all the world. It is a discourse he entitled

Voluntary Servitude, but those who have not knowne him, have since

very properly rebaptized the same, The Against-one. In his first

youth he writ, by way of Essaie, in honour of libertie against

Tyrants. It hath long since beene dispersed amongst men of

understanding, not without great and well deserved commendations:

for it is full of wit, and containeth as much learning as may be:

yet doth it differ much from the best he can do. And if in the age I

knew him in, he would have undergone my dessigne to set his

fantasies downe in writing, we should doubtlesse see many rare

things, and which would very neerely approch the honour of

antiquity: for especially touching that part of natures gifts, I

know none may be compared to him. But it was not long of him, that

ever this Treatise came to mans view, and I beleeve he never saw it

since it first escaped his hands: with certaine other notes

concerning the edict of Januarie, famous by reason of our intestine

warre, which haply may in other places finde their deserved praise.

It is all I could ever recover of his reliques (whom when death

seized, he by his last will and testament, left with so kinde

remembrance, heire and executor of his librarie and writings)

besides the little booke, I since caused to be published: To which

his pamphlet I am particularly most bounden, for so much as it was

the instrumentall meane of our first acquaintance. For it was shewed

me long time before I saw him; and gave me the first knowledge of

his name, addressing, and thus nourishing that unspotted friendship

which we (so long as it pleased God) have so sincerely, so entire

and inviolably maintained betweene us, that truly a man shall not

commonly heare of the like; and amongst our moderne men no signe of

any such is scene. So many parts are required to the erecting of

such a one, that it may be counted a wonder if fortune once in three

ages contract the like. There is nothing to which Nature hath more

addressed us than to societie. And Aristotle saith that perfect Law-

givers have had more regardfull care of friendship than of justice.

And the utmost drift of its perfection is this. For generally, all

those amities which are forged and nourished by voluptuousnesse or

profit, publike or private need, are thereby so much the lesse faire

and generous, and so much the lesse true amities, in that they

intermeddle other causes, scope, and fruit with friendship, than it

selfe alone: Nor doe those foure ancient kindes of friendships,

Naturall, sociall, hospitable, and venerian, either particularly or

conjointly beseeme the same. That from children to parents may

rather be termed respect: Friendship is nourished by communication,

which by reason of the over-great disparitie cannot bee found in

them, and would happly offend the duties of nature: for neither all

the secret thoughts of parents can be communicated unto children,

lest it might engender an unbeseeming familiaritie betweene them,

nor the admonitions and corrections (which are the chiefest offices

of friendship) could be exercised from children to parents. There

have nations beene found, where, by custome, children killed their

parents, and others where parents slew their children, thereby to

avoid the hindrance of enterbearing [Footnote: Mutually supporting.]

one another in after-times: for naturally one dependeth from the

ruine of another. There have Philosophers beene found disdaining

this naturall conjunction: witnesse Aristippus, who being urged with

the affection he ought [Footnote: Owed.] his children, as proceeding

from his loyns, began to spit, saying, That also that excrement

proceeded from him, and that also we engendred wormes and lice. And

that other man, whom Plutarke would have perswaded to agree with his

brother, answered, "I care not a straw the more for him, though he

came out of the same wombe I did." Verily the name of Brother is a

glorious name, and full of loving kindnesse, and therefore did he

and I terme one another sworne brother: but this commixture,

dividence, and sharing of goods, this joyning wealth to wealth, and

that the riches of one shall be the povertie of another, doth

exceedingly distemper and distract all brotherly alliance, and

lovely conjunction: If brothers should conduct the progresse of

their advancement and thrift in one same path and course, they must

necessarily oftentimes hinder and crosse one another. Moreover, the

correspondencie and relation that begetteth these true and mutually

perfect amities, why shall it be found in these? The father and the

sonne may very well be of a farre differing complexion, and so many

brothers: He is my sonne, he is my kinsman; but he may be a foole, a

bad, or a peevish-minded man. And then according as they are

friendships which the law and dutie of nature doth command us, so

much the lesse of our owne voluntarie choice and libertie is there

required unto it: And our genuine libertie hath no production more

properly her owne, than that of affection and amitie. Sure I am,

that concerning the same I have assaied all that might be, having

had the best and most indulgent father that ever was, even to his

extremest age, and who from father to sonne was descended of a

famous house, and touching this rare-seene vertue of brotherly

concord very exemplare:

----et ipse

Notus in fratres animi paterni.

[Footnote: Hor. 1. ii. Qd. li. 6.]

To his brothers knowne so kinde.

As to beare a fathers minde.

To compare the affection toward women unto it, although it proceed

from our owne free choice, a man cannot, nor may it be placed in

this ranke: Her fire, I confesse it to be more

(---neque enim est dea nescia nostri

Quae dulcem curis miscet amaritiem.)

[Footnote: Catul. Epig. lxvi.]

(Nor is that Goddesse ignorant of me,

Whose bitter-sweets with my cares mixed be.)

active, more fervent, and more sharpe. But it is a rash and wavering

fire, waving and divers: the fire of an ague subject to fits and

stints, and that hath but slender hold-fast of us. In true

friendship, it is a generall and universall heat, and equally

tempered, a constant and setled heat, all pleasure and smoothnes,

that hath no pricking or stinging in it, which the more it is in

lustfull love, the more is it but a raging and mad desire in

following that which flies us,

Come segue la lepre il cacciatore

Alfreddo, al caldo, alia montagna, a lito,

Ne pin l'estima poi che presa vede,

E sol dietro a chi fugge affretta il piede.

[Footnote: Ariost. can. x. st. 7.]

Ev'n as the huntsman doth the hare pursue,

In cold, in heat, on mountaines, on the shore,

But cares no more, when he her ta'en espies

Speeding his pace only at that which flies.

As soone as it creepeth into the termes of friendship, that is to

say, in the agreement of wits, it languisheth and vanisheth away:

enjoying doth lose it, as having a corporall end, and subject to

satietie. On the other side, friendship is enjoyed according as it

is desired, it is neither bred, nourished, nor increaseth but in

jovissance, as being spirituall, and the minde being refined by use

custome. Under this chiefe amitie, these fading affections have

sometimes found place in me, lest I should speake of him, who in his

verses speakes but too much of it. So are these two passions entered

into me in knowledge one of another, but in comparison never: the

first flying a high, and keeping a proud pitch, disdainfully

beholding the other to passe her points farre under it. Concerning

marriage, besides that it is a covenant which hath nothing free but

the entrance, the continuance being forced and constrained,

depending else-where than from our will, and a match ordinarily

concluded to other ends: A thousand strange knots are therein

commonly to be unknit, able to break the web, and trouble the whole

course of a lively affection; whereas in friendship there is no

commerce or busines depending on the same, but it selfe. Seeing (to

speake truly) that the ordinary sufficiency of women cannot answer

this conference and communication, the nurse of this sacred bond:

nor seeme their mindes strong enough to endure the pulling of a knot

so hard, so fast, and durable. And truly, if without that, such a

genuine and voluntarie acquaintance might be contracted, where not

only mindes had this entire jovissance, [Footnote: Enjoyment.] but

also bodies, a share of the alliance, and where a man might wholly

be engaged: It is certaine, that friendship would thereby be more

compleat and full: But this sex could never yet by any example

attaine unto it, and is by ancient schooles rejected thence. And

this other Greeke licence is justly abhorred by our customes, which

notwithstanding, because according to use it had so necessarie a

disparitie of ages, and difference of offices betweene lovers, did

no more sufficiently answer the perfect union and agreement, which

here we require: Quis est enim iste amor amicitiae? cur neque

deformem adolescentem quisquam amat, neque formosum senem?

[Footnote: Cic. Tusc. Qu. lv. c. 33.] "For, what love is this of

friendship? why doth no man love either a deformed young man, or a

beautifull old man?" For even the picture the Academic makes of it,

will not (as I suppose) disavowe mee, to say thus in her behalfe:

That the first furie, enspired by the son of Venus in the lovers

hart, upon the object of tender youths-flower, to which they allow

all insolent and passionate violences, an immoderate heat may

produce, was simply grounded upon an externall beauty; a false image

of corporall generation: for in the spirit it had no power, the

sight whereof was yet concealed, which was but in his infancie, and

before the age of budding. For, if this furie did seize upon a base

minded courage, the meanes of its pursuit were riches, gifts, favour

to the advancement of dignities, and such like vile merchandice,

which they reprove. If it fell into a more generous minde, the

interpositions [Footnote: Means of approach.] were likewise

generous: Philosophicall instructions, documents [Footnote:

Teachings.] to reverence religion, to obey the lawes, to die for the

good of his countrie: examples of valor, wisdome and justice; the

lover endevoring and studying to make himselfe acceptable by the

good grace and beauty of his minde (that of his body being long

since decayed) hoping by this mentall society to establish a more

firme and permanent bargaine. When this pursuit attained the effect

in due season (for by not requiring in a lover, he should bring

leasure and discretion in his enterprise, they require it exactly in

the beloved; forasmuch as he was to judge of an internall beauty, of

difficile knowledge, and abstruse discovery) then by the

interposition of a spiritual beauty was the desire of a spiritual

conception engendred in the beloved. The latter was here chiefest;

the corporall, accidentall and second, altogether contrarie to the

lover. And therefore doe they preferre the beloved, and verifie that

the gods likewise preferre the same: and greatly blame the Poet

AEschylus, who in the love betweene Achilles and Patroclus ascribeth

the lovers part unto Achilles, who was in the first and beardlesse

youth of his adolescency, and the fairest of the Graecians. After

this general communitie, the mistris and worthiest part of it,

predominant and exercising her offices (they say the most availefull

commodity did thereby redound both to the private and publike). That

it was the force of countries received the use of it, and the

principall defence of equitie and libertie: witnesse the comfortable

loves of Hermodius and Aristogiton. Therefore name they it sacred

and divine, and it concerns not them whether the violence of

tyrants, or the demisnesse of the people be against them: To

conclude, all that can be alleged in favour of the Academy, is to

say, that it was a love ending in friendship, a thing which hath no

bad reference unto the Stoical definition of love: Amorem conatum

esse amicitiae faciendae ex pulchritudinis specie: [Footnote: Cic.

Tusc. Qu. ir. c. 34. ] "That love is an endevour of making

friendship, by the shew of beautie." I returne to my description in

a more equitable and equall manner. Omnino amicitiae, corroboratis

jam confirmatisque ingeniis et aetatibus, judicandae sunt.

[Footnote: Cic. Amic.] "Clearely friendships are to be judged by

wits, and ages already strengthened and confirmed." As for the rest,

those we ordinarily call friendes and amities, are but acquaintances

and familiarities, tied together by some occasion or commodities, by

meanes whereof our mindes are entertained. In the amitie I speake

of, they entermixe and confound themselves one in the other, with so

universall a commixture, that they weare out and can no more finde

the seame that hath conjoined them together. If a man urge me to

tell wherefore I loved him, I feele it cannot be expressed, but by

answering; Because it was he, because it was my selfe. There is

beyond all my discourse, and besides what I can particularly report

of it, I know not what inexplicable and fatall power, a meane and

Mediatrix of this indissoluble union. We sought one another before

we had scene one another, and by the reports we heard one of

another; which wrought a greater violence in us, than the reason of

reports may well beare; I thinke by some secret ordinance of the

heavens, we embraced one another by our names. And at our first

meeting, which was by chance at a great feast, and solemne meeting

of a whole towneship, we found our selves so surprized, so knowne,

so acquainted, and so combinedly bound together, that from thence

forward, nothing was so neer unto us as one unto anothers. He writ

an excellent Latyne Satyre since published; by which he excuseth and

expoundeth the precipitation of our acquaintance, so suddenly come

to her perfection; Sithence it must continue so short a time, and

begun so late (for we were both growne men, and he some yeares older

than my selfe) there was no time to be lost. And it was not to bee

modelled or directed by the paterne of regular and remisse

[Footnote: Slight, languid.] friendship, wherein so many precautions

of a long and preallable conversation [Footnote: Preceding

intercourse.] are required. This hath no other Idea than of it

selfe, and can have no reference but to itselfe. It is not one

especiall consideration, nor two, nor three, nor foure, nor a

thousand: It is I wot not what kinde of quintessence, of all this

commixture, which having seized all my will, induced the same to

plunge and lose it selfe in his, which likewise having seized all

his will, brought it to lose and plunge it selfe in mine, with a

mutuall greedinesse, and with a semblable concurrance. I may truly

say, lose, reserving nothing unto us, that might properly be called

our owne, nor that was either his or mine. When Lelius in the

presence of the Romane Consuls, who after the condemnation of

Tiberius Gracchus, pursued all those that had beene of his

acquaintance, came to enquire of Caius Blosius (who was one of his

chiefest friends) what he would have done for him, and that he

answered, "All things." "What, all things?" replied he. "And what if

he had willed thee to burne our Temples?" Blosius answered, "He

would never have commanded such a thing." "But what if he had done

it?" replied Lelius. The other answered, "I would have obeyed him."

If hee were so perfect a friend to Gracchus as Histories report, he

needed not offend the Consuls with this last and bold confession,

and should not have departed from the assurance hee had of Gracchus

his minde. But yet those who accuse this answer as seditious,

understand not well this mysterie: and doe not presuppose in what

termes he stood, and that he held Gracchus his will in his sleeve,

both by power and knowledge. They were rather friends than Citizens,

rather friends than enemies of their countrey, or friends of

ambition and trouble. Having absolutely committed themselves one to

another, they perfectly held the reines of one anothers inclination:

and let this yoke be guided by vertue and conduct of reason (because

without them it is altogether impossible to combine and proportion

the same). The answer of Blosius was such as it should be. If their

affections miscarried, according to my meaning, they were neither

friends one to other, nor friends to themselves. As for the rest,

this answer sounds no more than mine would doe, to him that would in

such sort enquire of me; if your will should command you to kill

your daughter, would you doe it? and that I should consent unto it:

for, that beareth no witnesse of consent to doe it: because I am not

in doubt of my will, and as little of such a friends will. It is not

in the power of the worlds discourse to remove me from the

certaintie I have of his intentions and judgments of mine: no one of

its actions might be presented unto me, under what shape soever, but

I would presently finde the spring and motion of it. Our mindes have

jumped [Footnote: Agreed.] so unitedly together, they have with so

fervent an affection considered of each other, and with like

affection so discovered and sounded, even to the very bottome of

each others heart and entrails, that I did not only know his, as

well as mine owne, but I would (verily) rather have trusted him

concerning any matter of mine, than my selfe. Let no man compare any

of the other common friendships to this. I have as much knowledge of

them as another, yea of the perfectest of their kinde: yet wil I not

perswade any man to confound their rules, for so a man might be

deceived. In these other strict friendships a man must march with

the bridle of wisdome and precaution in his hand: the bond is not so

strictly tied but a man may in some sort distrust the same. Love him

(said Chilon) as if you should one day hate him againe. Hate him as

if you should love him againe. This precept, so abhominable in this

soveraigne and mistris Amitie, is necessarie and wholesome in the

use of vulgar and customarie friendships: toward which a man must

employ the saying Aristotle was wont so often repeat, "Oh you my

friends, there is no perfect friend."

In this noble commerce, offices and benefits (nurses of other

amities) deserve not so much as to bee accounted of: this confusion

so full of our wills is cause of it: for even as the friendship I

beare unto my selfe, admits no accrease, [Footnote: Increase.] by

any succour I give my selfe in any time of need, whatsoever the

Stoickes allege; and as I acknowledge no thanks unto my selfe for

any service I doe unto myselfe, so the union of such friends, being

truly perfect, makes them lose the feeling of such duties, and hate,

and expell from one another these words of division, and difference:

benefit, good deed, dutie, obligation, acknowledgement, prayer,

thanks, and such their like. All things being by effect common

betweene them; wils, thoughts, judgements, goods, wives, children,

honour, and life; and their mutual agreement, being no other than

one soule in two bodies, according to the fit definition of

Aristotle, they can neither lend or give ought to each other. See

here the reason why Lawmakers, to honour marriage with some

imaginary resemblance of this divine bond, inhibite donations

between husband and wife; meaning thereby to inferre, that all

things should peculiarly bee proper to each of them, and that they

have nothing to divide and share together. If in the friendship

whereof I speake, one might give unto another, the receiver of the

benefit should binde his fellow. For, each seeking more than any

other thing to doe each other good, he who yeelds both matter and

occasion, is the man sheweth himselfe liberall, giving his friend

that contentment, to effect towards him what he desireth most. When

the Philosopher Diogenes wanted money, he was wont to say that he

redemanded the same of his friends, and not that he demanded it: And

to show how that is practised by effect, I will relate an ancient

singular example. Eudamidas the Corinthiam had two friends:

Charixenus a Sycionian, and Aretheus a Corinthian; being upon his

death-bed, and very poore, and his two friends very rich, thus made

his last will and testament: "To Aretheus, I bequeath the keeping of

my mother, and to maintaine her when she shall be old: To Charixenus

the marrying of my daughter, and to give her as great a dowry as he

may: and in case one of them shall chance to die before, I appoint

the survivor to substitute his charge, and supply his place." Those

that first saw this testament laughed and mocked at the same; but

his heires being advertised thereof, were very well pleased, and

received it with singular contentment. And Charixenus, one of them,

dying five daies after Eudamidas, the substitution being declared in

favour of Aretheus, he carefully and very kindly kept and maintained

his mother, and of five talents that he was worth he gave two and a

halfe in marriage to one only daughter he had, and the other two and

a halfe to the daughter of Eudamidas, whom he married both in one

day. This example is very ample, if one thing were not, which is the

multitude of friends: For, this perfect amity I speake of, is

indivisible; each man doth so wholly give himselfe unto his friend,

that he hath nothing left him to divide else-where: moreover he is

grieved that he is not double, triple, or quadruple, and hath not

many soules, or sundry wils, that he might conferre them all upon

this subject. Common friendships may bee divided; a man may love

beauty in one, facility of behaviour in another, liberality in one,

and wisdome in another, paternity in this, fraternity in that man,

and so forth: but this amitie which possesseth the soule, and swaies

it in all sovereigntie, it is impossible it should be double. If two

at one instant should require helpe, to which would you run? Should

they crave contrary offices of you, what order would you follow?

Should one commit a matter to your silence, which if the other knew

would greatly profit him, what course would you take? Or how would

you discharge your selfe? A singular and principall friendship

dissolveth all other duties, and freeth all other obligations. The

secret I have sworne not to reveale to another, I may without

perjurie impart it unto him, who is no other but my selfe. It is a

great and strange wonder for a man to double himselfe; and those

that talke of tripling know not, nor cannot reach into the height of

it. "Nothing is extreme that hath his like." And he who shal

presuppose that of two I love the one as wel as the other, and that

they enter-love [Footnote: Love mutually.] one another, and love me

as much as I love them: he multiplied! in brotherhood, a thing most

singular, and a lonely one, and than which one alone is also the

rarest to be found in the world. The remainder of this history

agreeth very wel with what I said; for, Eudamidas giveth us a grace

and favor to his friends to employ them in his need: he leaveth them

as his heires of his liberality, which consisteth in putting the

meanes into their hands to doe him good. And doubtlesse the force of

friendship is much more richly shewen in his deed than in Aretheus.

To conclude, they are imaginable effects to him that hath not tasted

them; and which makes me wonderfully to honor the answer of that

young Souldier to Cyrus, who enquiring of him what he would take for

a horse with which he had lately gained the prize of a race, and

whether he would change him for a Kingdome? "No surely, my Liege

(said he), yet would I willingly forgot him to game a true friend,

could I but finde a man worthy of so precious an alliance." He said

not ill, in saying "could I but finde." For, a man shall easily

finde men fit for a superficiall acquaintance; but in this, wherein

men negotiate from the very centre of their harts, and make no spare

of any thing, it is most requisite all the wards and springs be

sincerely wrought and perfectly true. In confederacies, which hold

but by one end, men have nothing to provide for, but for the

imperfections, which particularly doe interest and concerne that end

and respect. It is no great matter what religion my Physician or

Lawyer is of: this consideration hath nothing common with the

offices of that friendship they owe mee. So doe I in the familiar

acquaintances that those who serve me contract with me. I am nothing

inquisitive whether a Lackey be chaste or no, but whether he be

diligent: I feare not a gaming Muletier, so much as if he be weake:

nor a hot swearing Cooke, as one that is ignorant and unskilfull; I

never meddle with saying what a man should doe in the world; there

are over many others that doe it; but what my selfe doe in the

world.

Mihi sic usus est: Tibi, ut opus est facto, face

[Footnote: Ter. Heau. act. i. sc. i, 28.]

So is it requisite for me:

Doe thou as needfull is for thee.

Concerning familiar table-talke, I rather acquaint my selfe with and

follow a merry conceited [Footnote: Fanciful] humour, than a wise

man: And in bed I rather prefer beauty than goodnesse; and in

society or conversation of familiar discourse, I respect rather

sufficiency, though without Preud'hommie, [Footnote: Probity.] and

so of all things else. Even as he that was found riding upon an

hobby-horse, playing with his children besought him who thus

surprized him not to speake of it untill he were a father himselfe,

supposing the tender fondnesse and fatherly passion which then would

posesse his minde should make him an impartiall judge of such an

action; so would I wish to speake to such as had tried what I speake

of: but knowing how far such an amitie is from the common use, and

how seld scene and rarely found, I looke not to finde a competent

judge. For, even the discourses, which sterne antiquitie hath left

us concerning this subject, seeme to me but faint and forcelesse in

respect of the feeling I have of it; And in that point the effects

exceed the very precepts of Philosophie.

Nil ego contulerim jucundo sanus amico.

[Footnote: Hor. 1. i. Sat. vii. 44]

For me, be I well in my wit,

Nought, as a merry friend, so fit.

Ancient Menander accounted him happy that had but met the shadow of

a true friend: verily he had reason to say so, especially if he had

tasted of any: for truly, if I compare all the rest of my forepassed

life, which although I have, by the meere mercy of God, past at rest

and ease, and except the losse of so deare a friend, free from all

grievous affliction, with an ever-quietnesse of minde, as one that

have taken my naturall and originall commodities in good payment,

without searching any others: if, as I say, I compare it all unto

the foure yeares I so happily enjoied the sweet company and deare-

deare society of that worthy man, it is nought but a vapour, nought

but a darke and yrkesome light. Since the time I lost him,

quem semper acerbum,

Semper honoratum (sic Dii voluistis) habebo,

[Footnote: Virg. AEn. iii. 49.]

Which I shall ever hold a bitter day,

Yet ever honour'd (so my God t' obey),

I doe but languish, I doe but sorrow: and even those pleasures, all

things present me with, in stead of yeelding me comfort, doe but

redouble the griefe of his losse. We were copartners in all things.

All things were with us at halfe; me thinkes I have stolne his part

from him.

--Nee fas esse iilla me voluptate hic frui

Decrevi, tantisper dum ille abest meus particeps.

[Footnote: Ter. Heau. act. i. sc. i, 97.]

I have set downe, no joy enjoy I may,

As long as he my partner is away.

I was so accustomed to be ever two, and so enured [Footnote:

Accustomed] to be never single, that me thinks I am but halfe my

selfe.

Illam mea si partem animce tulit,

Maturior vis, quid moror altera.

Nec charus aeque nec superstes,

Integer? Ille dies utramque

Duxit ruinam.

[Footnote: Hor. 1. ii. Od. xvii.]

Since that part of my soule riper fate reft me,

Why stay I heere the other part he left me?

Nor so deere, nor entire, while heere I rest:

That day hath in one mine both opprest.

There is no action can betide me, or imagination possesse me, but I

heare him saying, as indeed he would have done to me: for even as he

did excell me by an infinite distance in all other sufficiencies and

vertues, so did he in all offices and duties of friendship.

Quis desiderio sit pudor aut modus,

Tam chari capitis?

[Footnote: Id. 1. i. Od. xxiv.]

What modesty or measure may I beare,

In want and wish of him that was so deare?

O misero frater adempte mihi!

Omnia tecum una perieruni gaudia nostra.

Qua tuus in vita dulcis alebat amor.

[Footnote: CATUL. Eleg. iv. 20, 92, 26, 95.]

Tu mea, tu moriens fregisti commoda frater.

[Footnote: Ib. 21.]

Tecum una tota est nostra sepulta anima,

Cujus ego interitu tota de mente fugavi

Hac studia, atque omnes delicias animi

[Footnote: CATUL. Bl. iv. 94.]

Alloquar? audiero nunquam tua verba loquentem?

[Footnote: Ib. 25.]

Nunquam ego te vita frater amabilior,

Aspiciam posthac? at certe semper amabo.

[Footnote: El. i. 9.]

O brother rest from miserable me,

All our delights are perished with thee,

Which thy sweet love did nourish in my breath.

Thou all my good hast spoiled in thy death:

With thee my soule is all and whole enshrinde,

At whose death I have cast out of my minde

All my mindes sweet-meats, studies of this kinde;

Never shall I, heare thee speake, speake with thee?

Thee brother, than life dearer, never see?

Yet shalt them ever be belov'd of mee.

But let us a little feare this yong man speake, being but sixteene

yeares of age.

Because I have found this worke to have since beene published (and

to an ill end) by such as seeke to trouble and subvert the state of

our common-wealth, nor caring whether they shall reforme it or no;

which they have fondly inserted among other writings of their

invention, I have revoked my intent, which was to place it here. And

lest the Authors memory should any way be interessed with those that

could not thoroughly know his opinions and actions, they shall

understand that this subject was by him treated of in his infancie,

only by way of exercise, as a subject, common, bareworne, and wyer-

drawne in a thousand bookes. I will never doubt but he beleeved what

he writ, and writ as he thought: for hee was so conscientious that

no lie did ever passe his lips, yea were it but in matters of sport

or play: and I know, that had it beene in his choyce, he would

rather have beene borne at Venice than at Sarlac; and good, reason

why: But he had another maxime deepely imprinted in his minde, which

was, carefully to obey, and religiously to submit himselfe to the

lawes, under which he was borne. There was never a better citizen,

nor more affected to the welfare and quietnesse of his countrie, nor

a sharper enemie of the changes, innovations, newfangles, and hurly-

burlies of his time: He would more willingly have imployed the

utmost of his endevours to extinguish and suppresse, than to favour

or further them: His minde was modelled to the patterne of other

best ages. But yet in exchange of his serious treatise, I will here

set you downe another, more pithie, materiall, and of more

consequence, by him likewise produced at that tender age.

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