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THE    TUDOR 
TRANSLATIONS 

EDITED   BY 

W.  E.  HENLEY 
VII 


9\u-t^>fc.h,     '^^■\^cr.    ^z.-r^\^  ci[ 


LUTARCH'S 


LIVESOF    THE    NOBLE 

GRECIANS   AND   ROMANS 

ENGLISHED     B  Y 

SIR   THOMAS    NORTH 

ANNO  1579 

With  an  Introduction  by 

GEORGE     WYNDHAM 

FIRST     VOLUME 


LONDON 

Published   by   DAVID   NUTT 
IN      THE      STRAND 

1895 


DE 
Pf6 


M 


Edinburgh :  T.  and  A.  Constable,  Printers  to  Her  Majesty 


TO 

THE   RIGHT   HONOURABLE 
ARTHUR  JAMES   BALFOUR 

THIS    TRANSFIGURATION 

IN   UNFADING   ENGLISH   OF 

AN   IMMORTAL   BOOK 


INTRODUCTION 


LUTARCH  was  bora  at  the  little  Theban 
town  of  Chasronea,  somewhere  about  50 
A.D.  The  date  of  his  birth  marks  no 
epoch  in  history ;  and  the  place  of  it, 
even  then,  was  remembered  only  as  the 
field  of  three  bygone  battles.  The  name 
Chaeronea,  cropping  up  in  conversation  at 
Rome,  for  the  birthplace  of  a  distinguished 
Greek  lecturer,  must  have  sounded  strangely  familiar  in  the 
eai-s  of  the  educated  Romans  whom  he  taught,  even  as  the  name 
of  Dreux,  or  of  Tewkesbury,  sounds  strangely  familiar  in  our 
own.  But  apart  from  such  chance  encounters,  few  can  have 
been  aware  of  its  municipal  existence ;  and  this  same  contrast, 
between  the  importance  and  the  renown  of  Plutarch's  birth- 
place, held  in  the  caise  of  his  country  also.  The  Boeotian 
plain — once  '  the  scaffold  of  Mars  where  he  held  his  games ""  ^ 
— was  but  a  lonely  sheepwalk ;  even  as  all  Greece,  once  a 
Europe  of  several  States,  was  but  one,  and  perhaps  the  poorest, 
among  the  many  provinces  of  the  Empire.  Born  at  such  a 
time  and  in  such  a  place,  Plutarch  was  still  a  patriot,  a  student 
of  politics,  and  a  scholar,  and  was  therefore  bound  by  every 
tie  of  sentiment  and  learning  to  the  ancient  memories  of 
his  native  land.  Sometimes  he  brooded  over  her  altered 
fortunes.  Boeotia  '  heretofore  of  old  time  resounded  and 
'  rung  again  with  Oracles ' ;  but  now  all  the  land  that  from 

^'Apews  opxn'^'rpav.  (Marcellus,  21.)  This  contrast  has  been  noted  by 
R.  C.  Trench,  D.D.,  in  his  Plutarch.  Five  Lectures,  1874.  An  admirable 
volume  full  of  suggestion. 

vii 


Plutarch  and 

Plutarch's 

Greece 


His  Athens 
and  his 
Corinth 


LIVES    OF   THE   NOBLE 

INTRO-  sea  to  sea  had  echoed  the  clash  of  arms  and  the  cadence 
DUCTION  of  oratory  was  'mute  or  altogether  desolate  and  forlorn': 
.  .  .  'hardly  able*"  he  goes  on,  '  to  make  three  thousand 
'  men  for  the  wars,  which  are  now  no  more  in  number 
'  than  one  city  in  times  past,  to  wit :  Megara,  set  forth 
'  and  sent  to  the  battle  of  Plataea.'  ^  At  Athens,  though 
Sulla  had  long  since  cut  down  the  woods  of  the  Academy, 
there  were  still  philosophers ;  and  there  were  merchants 
again  at  Corinth,  rebuilded  by  Julius  Caesar.  But  Athens, 
even,  and  a  century  before,  could  furnish  only  three  ships 
for  the  succour  of  Pompey ;  while  elsewhere,  the  cities 
of  Greece  had  dwindled  to  villages,  and  the  villages  had 
vanished,  'The  stately  and  sumptuous  buildings  which 
'  Pericles  made  to  be  built  in  the  cittie  of  Athens  "*  were  still 
standing  after  four  hundred  years,  untouched  by  Time, 
but  they  were  the  sole  remaining  evidence  of  dignity.  So 
that  Plutarch,  when  he  set  himself  to  write  of  Greek 
worthies,  found  his  material  selected  to  his  hand.  Greek 
rhetoricians,  himself  among  them,  might  lecture  in  every 
city  of  the  South ;  but  of  Greek  soldiers  and  statesmen 
there  was  not  one  in  a  land  left  empty  and  silent,  save 
for  the  statues  of  gods  and  the  renown  of  great  men.  The 
cradle  of  war  and  statecraft  was  become  a  memory  dear  to 
him,  and  ever  evoked  by  his  personal  contact  with  the 
triumphs  of  Rome.  From  this  contrast  flowed  his  inspiration 
for  the  Parallel  Lives :  his  desire,  as  a  man,  to  draw  the 
noble  Grecians,  long  since  dead,  a  little  nearer  to  the  noonday 
of  the  living ;  his  delight,  as  an  artist,  in  setting  the  noble 
Romans,  whose  names  were  in  every  mouth,  a  little  further 
into  the  twilight  of  a  more  ancient  romance.  By  placing 
them  side  by  side,  he  gave  back  to  the  Greeks  that  touch 
which  they  had  lost  with  the  living  in  the  death  of  Greece, 
and  to  the  Romans  that  distinction  from  everyday  life 
which  they  were  fast  beginning  to  lose.  Then  and  ever 
since,  an  imaginative  effort  was  needed  to  restore  to  Greece 
those  trivialities  of  daily  life  which,  in  other  countries, 
an  imaginative  effort  is  needed  to  destroy ;  and  hence  her 

'  PlutarcKs  Morals.    Philemon  Holland,  1657,  p.  1078,  in  a  letter  addressed 
to  Terentius  Priscus,  '  On  oracles  that  have  ceased  to  give  answers.' 

viii 


His  Inspira 
tion 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

hold  on  the  imagination  of  every  age.  Plutarch,  considering  INTRO- 
his  country,  found  her  a  solitude.  Yet  for  him  the  desert  DUCTION 
air  was  vibrant  with  a  rumour  of  the  mighty  dead.  Their 
memories  loomed  heroic  and  tremendous,  through  the  dim- 
ness of  the  past ;  and  he  carried  them  with  him  when  he 
went  to  Rome,  partly  on  a  political  errand,  and  partly  to 
deliver  Greek  lectures. 

In  JuvenaPs  '  Greek  city  "*  he  needed,  and  indeed  he  had,  in  Flavian 
small  Latin.  '  I  had  no  leisure  to  study  and  exercise  the  Rome 
'  Latin  tongue,  as  well  for  the  great  business  I  had  then  to 
'  do,  as  also  to  satisfy  them  that  came  to  learn  philosophy  of 
'  me ' :  thus,  looking  back  from  Chaeronea,  does  he  Avi'ite  in 
his  preface  to  the  Demosthenes  and  Cicero,  adding  that  he 
'  understood  not  matters  so  much  by  words,  as  he  came  to 
'  understand  words  by  common  experience  and  knowledge  he 
'  had  in  things."  We  gather  that  he  wrote  many,  if  not  all, 
of  the  Lives  at  his  birthplace,  the  'poor  little  town""  to 
which  he  returned  :  '  remaining  there  willingly  lest  it  should 
'  become  less.''  But  it  was  in  Flavian  Rome,  in  the  '  great 
'  and  famous  city  thoroughly  inhabited'  and  containing '  plenty 
'  of  all  sorts  of  books,'  that,  having  taken  upon  him  to  write 
'  a  history  into  which  he  must  thrust  many  strange  things 
'  unknown  to  his  country,'  he  gathered  his  materials  '  out  of 
'  divers  books  and  authorities,'  or  picked  them  up,  as  a  part 
of '  common  experience  and  knowledge,'  in  familiar  converse 
with  the  cultured  of  his  day.  I  have  quoted  thus,  for  the  light 
the  passage  throws  on  the  nature  of  his  researches  in  Rome, 
although  the  word  '  history '  may  mislead.  For  his  purpose  His  Purpose 
was  not  to  write  histories,  even  of  individuals.  He  tells  us 
so  himself.  '  I  will  only  desire  the  reader,'  he  writes  in  his 
preface  to  the  Alexander  and  Caesar,  'not  to  blame  me 
'  though  I  do  not  declare  all  things  at  large  ,  .  .  for  they 
'  must  remember  that  my  intent  is  not  to  write  histories  but 
'  only  lives.  For  the  noblest  deeds,'  he  goes  on,  '  do  not 
'  always  shew  man's  virtues  and  vices,  but  oftentimes  a  light 
'  occasion,  a  word,  or  some  sport  makes  men's  natural  dispo- 
'  sitions  and  manners  appear  more  plainly  than  the  famous 
'  battles  won,  wherein  are  slain  ten  thousand  men.'  As 
'  painters  do  take  the  resemblance  of  the  face  and  favour 
b  ix 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

INTRO-  '  of  the  countenance,''  making  '  no  accompt  of  other  parts  of 
DUCTION  «  the  body,'  so  he,  too,  asks  for  '  leave  to  seek  out  the  signs 
'  and  tokens  of  the  mind  only/  That  was  his  ambition  :  to 
paint  a  gallery  of  portraits  ;  to  focus  his  vision  on  the 
spiritual  face  of  his  every  subject,  and  for  every  Greek  to 
hang  a  Roman  at  his  side.  To  compass  it,  he  set  himself 
deliberately,  as  an  artist,  unconscious  of  any  intention  other 
than  the  choice  of  good  subjects  and,  his  choice  once 
made,  the  rejection  from  each  of  all  but  the  particular  and 
the  significant.  He  stood  before  men's  souls  to  study  '  the 
'  singularity  each  possessed,'^  as  Velasquez  in  a  later  age 
before  men's  bodies ;  and,  even  as  his  method  was  allied, 
so  was  his  measure  of  accomplishment  not  less. 
His  Effect  But  the  Parallel  Lives  shows  something  different  from  this 

purpose,  is  something  more  than  a  gallery  of  portraits  hung 
in  pairs.  Plutarch  stands  by  his  profession.  His  imme- 
diate concern  is  with  neither  history  nor  politics,  but  ^vith 
the  '  disposition  and  manners '  of  the  great.  He  chooses  his 
man,  and  then  he  paints  his  picture,  with  a  master's  choice 
of  the  essential.  And  yet,  inasmuch  as  he  chooses  every 
subject  as  a  matter  of  course  on  political  grounds — as  he 
sees  all  men  in  the  State — it  follows  that  his  gallery  is  found, 
for  all  his  avowed  intention,  to  consist  of  political  portraits 
alone.  Thirteen,  indeed,  of  his  sitters  belong  not  only  to 
history  but  also  to  one  chapter  of  history — a  chapter  short, 
dramatic,  bloody,  and  distinctly  political.  This  was  the 
chance.  When  Plutarch,  the  lecturer,  dropped  into  Roman 
society  fresh  from  the  contemplation  of  Greece  '  depopulate 
'  and  dispeopled,'  he  found  its  members  spending  their  ample 
Some  of  his  leisure  in  academic  debate.  After  more  than  a  hundred 
Sources  years    they    were   still    discussing  the   protagonists  in  that 

greatest  of  political  dramas  which,  'for  a  sumptuous 
'  conclusion  to  a  stately  tragedy,'  had  ushered  in  the 
empire  of  the  world.  Predisposed  by  contrast  of  origin 
and  affinity  of  taste,  he  threw  himself  keenly  into 
their  pastime,  and  he  gives,  by  the  way,  some  minute 
references  to  points  at  issue.  For  instance,  when  Pompey 
and  the  Senate  had  deserted  Italy  at  Caesar's  approach,  a 
^  Paulus  yEini litis. 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

stern-chase  of  ships  and  swords  had  swept  round  three  conti-  INTRO- 
nents,  and  thereon  had  followed  a  campaign  of  words  and  DUCTION 
pens  at  Rome.  In  that  campaign  the  chief  attack  and 
reply  had  been  Cicero's  Cato  and  Caesar's  Anticaton; 
and  these,  he  tells  us,^  had  'favourers  unto  his  day, 
'  some  defending  the  one  for  the  love  they  bare  Caesar, 
'  and  others  allowing  the  other  for  Cato's  sake/  We  gather 
that  he  and  his  Roman  friends  argued  of  these  matters  over 
the  dinner-table  and  in  the  lecture-halls,  even  as  men  argue 
to-day  of  the  actors  in  the  French  Revolution.  Now,  to 
glance  at  the  '  Table  of  the  Noble  Grecians  and  Romanes '  His  Roman 
is  to  see  how  profoundly  this  atmosphere  affected  his  selec-  Lives 
tion  of  Roman  lives.  For,  excluding  the  legendary  founders 
and  defenders,  with  the  Emperors  Galba  and  Otho  (whose 
lives  are  interpolations  from  elsewhere),  we  find  that  thirteen 
of  the  nineteen  left  were  party  chiefs  in  the  constitutional 
struggles  which  ended  on  the  fields  of  Pharsalia  and  Philippi, 
The  effect  on  the  general  cast  of  the  Lives  has  been  so 
momentous  that  a  whole  quarter  covers  only  the  political 
action  which  these  thirteen  politicians  crowded  into  less 
than  one  hundred  years.  The  society  of  idlers,  which  re- 
ceived Plutarch  at  Rome,  was  still  debating  the  ideals  for 
which  these  thirteen  men  had  fought  and  died ;  it  was  there- 
fore inevitable  that,  in  seeking  for  foreign  parallels,  he  should 
have  found  almost  as  many  as  he  needed  among  the  actors 
in  that  single  drama.  As  it  was,  he  chose  for  his  greater 
portraitures  all  the  chief  actors,  and  a  whole  army  of  sub- 
sidiary characters  for  his  groups  in  the  middle  distance : 
as  Saturninus  and  Cinna  from  one  act,  Clodius  and  Curio 
from  another.  Nothing  is  wanting.  You  have  the  prologue 
of  the  Gracchi,  the  epilogue  of  Antony,  and  between  the 
play  from  the  triumph  of  Marius  to  Brutus  in  his  despair : 
'  looking  up  to  the  firmament  that  was  full  of  stars,'  and 
'  sighing '  over  a  cause  lost  for  ever.  And  yet  it  remains 
true  that  Plutarch  did  not  make  this  selection  from — or 
rather  this  clean  sweep  of — the  politicians  of  a  certain  epoch 
in  order  to  illustrate  that  epoch's  history,  still  less  to  criticise 
any  theory  of  constitutional  government.     The  remaining 

^  Casar. 

xi 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

INTRO-  Romans,  howbeit  engaged  in  several  issues,  and  the  Greeks, 
DUCTION  though  gathered  from  many  ages  and  many  cities,  are 
all  politicians,  or,  being  orators  and  captains,  are  still  in 
the  same  way  chosen  each  for  his  influence  on  the  for- 
tmies  of  a  State.  But  they  were  not  consciously  chosen 
to  illustrate  history  or  to  discuss  politics.  Thanks, 
not  to  a  point  of  view  peculiar  to  Plutarch  but  to  an 
instinct  pervading  the  world  in  which  he  lived,  to  a  pre- 
possession then  so  universal  that  he  is  never  conscious  of 
its  influence  on  his  aim,  they  are  all  public  men.  For  him- 
His  Principle  self,  he  was  painting  individual  character ;  and  he  sought 
of  Selection  it  among  men  bearing  a  personal  stamp.  But  he  never 
sought  it  in  a  private  person  or  a  comedian ;  nor  even 
in  a  poet  or  a  master  of  the  Fine  Arts.  To  look  for 
distinction  in  such  a  quarter  never  occurred  to  him ; 
could  never,  I  may  say,  have  entered  his  head.  He 
cannot  conceive  that  any  young  '  gentleman  nobly  born "" 
should  so  much  as  wish  to  be  Phidias  or  Polycletus  or 
Anacreon ;  ^  and  this  fi'om  no  vulgar  contempt  for  the 
making  of  beautiful  things,  nor  any  mean  reverence  for 
noble  birth,  but  because,  over  and  above  the  making  of 
beautiful  things,  there  are  deeds  that  are  better  worth  the 
doing,  and  because  men  of  noble  birth  are  freer  than  others 
to  choose  what  deeds  they  will  set  themselves  to  do.  Why, 
then,  he  seems  to  ask,  should  they  seek  any  service  less  noble 
than  the  service  of  their  countrymen .?  why  pursue  any 
ambition  less  exalted  than  the  salvation  of  their  State .? 
For  his  part,  he  will  prefer  Lycurgus  before  Plato ;  for, 
while  the  one  '  stablished  and  left  behind  him '  a  constitu- 
tion, the  other  left  behind  him  only  '  words  and  written 
'  books.'  ^  His  preference  seems  a  strange  one  now ;  but 
it  deserves  to  be  noted  the  more  nearly  for  its  strangeness. 
At  any  rate,  it  was  the  preference  of  a  patriot  and  a  repub- 
lican, whose  country  had  sunk  to  a  simple  province  under 
an  alien  Emperor,  and  it  governed  the  whole  range  of 
Plutarch's  choice. 

This  result  has  been  rendered  the  more  conspicuous  by 
another  cause,  springing  at  first  from  an  accident,  but  in 
^  Preface  to  Pericles.  ^  Lycurgus, 

xii 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

its  application  influenced  by  the  political  quality  of  Plutarch"'s  INTRO- 
material.  Lost  sight  of  and  scattered  in  the  Dark  Ages,  the  DUCTION 
Parallel  Lives  were  recovered  and  rearranged  at  the  revival 
of  learning.  But  just  as  a  gallery  of  historical  portraits, 
being  dispersed  and  re-collected,  will  in  all  probability  be 
hung  after  some  chronological  scheme,  so  have  the  lives  been 
shuffled  anew  under  the  influence  of  their  political  extrac-  The  New 
tion,  in  such  a  sort  as  to  change  not  only  the  complexion  Symmetry  of 
but  also  the  structure  of  Plutarch's  design.  They  form  ^gg^J.^^f'^^g 
no  longer  a  gallery  of  political  portraits,  hung  in  pairs  for  arrangement' 
contrast's  sake :  they  are  grouped  with  intelligible  reference 
to  the  history  of  Athens  and  of  Rome.  We  know  from 
Plutarch's  own  statements  that  he  had  no  hand  in  their 
present  arrangement.  He  was  engrossed  in  depicting  the 
characters  of  great  men,  and  he  wrote  and  dedicated  each 
pair  of  lives  to  Socius  Senecio,  or  another,  as  an  mdepen- 
dent  '  book,'  '  treaty,'  or  '  volume.'  It  is  clear  from  many 
passages  that  he  gathered  these  '  volumes '  together  without 
reference  to  their  political  bearing  on  each  other.  The 
Pericles  and  Fahius  Maximus,  which  is  now  the  Fifth 
'  book,'  was  originally  the  Tenth ;  and  the  change  has 
apparently  been  made  to  bring  Pericles,  so  far  as  the 
Greeks  are  concerned,  within  the  consecutive  history  of 
Athens  :  just  as  the  Demosthenes  and  Cicero^  once  the  Fifth, 
is  now  by  much  removed  so  that  Cicero  may  fall  into 
place  among  the  actors  of  the  Roman  drama.  So,  too, 
the  Theseus,  now  standing  First,  as  the  founder  of  Athens, 
was  written  after  the  Demosthenes,  now  set  well-nigh  at  the 
end  of  the  series.  And  on  the  same  grounds,  evidently, 
to  the  Marius  and  the  Pompey,  written  respectively  after 
the  Ccesar  and  the  Brutus,  there  have  been  given  such 
positions  as  were  dictated  by  the  development  of  the  drama. 
The  fact  is,  Plutarch's  materials,  being  all  political,  have 
settled  of  themselves,  and  have  been  sorted  in  accordance 
with  their  political  nature :  until  his  work,  pieced  to- 
gether by  humanists  and  rearranged  by  translators,  bears 
within  it  some  such  traces  of  a  new  symmetry,  imperfect  yet 
complex,  as  we  detect  in  the  stratification  of  crystalline 
rocks.      Little   has  been  added  in  North's  first  edition  to 

xiii 


LIVES    OF  THE   NOBI,E 

INTRO-      the  substance  of  Plutarch's  book  ;  ^  but  its  structure  and, 
DUCTION  as  I  hope  to  show,  some  of  its  colour  and  surface  are  the 
product,  not  only  of  the  one  mind  which  created  it  but, 
of  the  many  who  have  preserved  it,  and  of  the  ages  it  has 
outworn.     The  mere  changes  in  the  order  of  the  '  books ' 
have  neither  increased  nor  diminished  their  contents  ;  but  by 
evolving,  as  they  do,  a  more  or  less  symmetrical  juxtaposi- 
tion of  certain  elements,  they  have  discovered  the  extent  to 
which  the  work  is  permeated  by  those  elements.     As  the 
quartz  dispersed  through  a  rock  strikes  the  eye,  when   it 
is  crystallised,  from  the  angles  of  its  spar ;  so  the  amount 
The  Parallel    of  Plutarch's  political  teaching,  which  might  have  escaped 
Lives  a  Book    notice  when  it  was  scattered  through  independent  books,  now 
of  Gr^eece  and  ^^^^^^  °"^  f^°™  ^^^  grouping  together  of  the  Athenians  who 
Rome  made  and  unmade  Athens,  and  of  the  Romans  who  fought  for 

and  against  the  Republican  Constitution  of  Rome.  For  the 
Parallel  Lives  are  now  disposed  in  a  rough  chronological 
order ;  in  so  far,  at  least,  as  this  has  been  possible  where  the 
members  of  each  pair  belong  severally  to  nations  whose  his- 
tories mingle  for  the  first  time,  when  the  activity  of  the  one 
ceases  and  the  activity  of  the  other  begins.  In  earlier  days 
they  had  but  dim  intimations  of  each  other's  fortunes  :  as 
when,  in  the  Camillus^  '  the  rumour  ran  to  Greece  incon- 
'  tinently  that  Rome  was  taken ' ;  and  it  is  only  in  the 
Philopoemen  and  Flaminius  that  their  fates  are  trained  into  a 
single  channel.  So  that,  rather,  there  are  balance  and  oppo- 
sition between  the  two  halves  of  the  whole  :  the  latter  por- 
tion being  governed  by  the  grouping  in  dramatic  sequence 
of  the  thirteen  Romans  who  took  part  in  the  constitutional 
drama  of  Rome  ;  whereas  the  earlier  is  as  it  were  polarised 
about  the  history  of  Athens.  Considering  the  governing 
lives  in  each  case,  and  disregarding  their  accidental  com- 
panions, you  will  find  that  in  both  the  whole  pageant  is 
displayed.  There  are  excursions,  but  in  the  latter  half  we 
live  at  Rome ;  in  the  earlier  we  are  taken  to  Athens  :  there 

1  In  North's  edition  of  1579  all  is  Plutarch,  through  Amyot,  excepting 
the  Annibal  and  the  Scipio  African,  which  were  manufactured  by  Donate 
Acciaiuoli  for  the  Latin   translation  of  the  Lives  published   at   Rome  by 
Campani  in  1470. 
xiv 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

to  be  spectators  of  her  rise,  her  glory,  and  her  fall.  We  INTRO- 
listen  to  the  prologue  in  the  Solon  ;  and  in  the  Themistocles^  DUCTION 
the  Pericles,  the  Alcibiades,  we  contemplate  the  three  acts  of 
the  tragedy.  The  tragedy  of  Athens,  the  drama  of  Home  : 
these  are  the  historic  poles  of  the  Parallel  Lives ;  while, 
about  half-way  between,  in  the  book  of  Philopoemen  and 
Flaminius,  is  the  historic  hinge,  at  the  fusion  of  Greek  with 
Roman  story.  For  Philopoemen  and  Flaminius  were  con- 
temporaries :  the  one  a  Greek  whom  '  Greece  did  love  pass- 
*  ingly  well  as  the  last  valiant  man  she  brought  forth  in  her 
'  age '' ;  the  other,  a  Roman  whom  she  loved  also,  Plutarch 
tells  us,  because,  in  founding  the  suzerainty  of  Rome,  he 
founded  it  on  the  broad  stone  of  honour.  In  this  book  the 
balance  of  sustained  interest  shifts,  and  after  it  the  Lives 
are  governed  to  the  end  by  the  development  of  the  single 
Roman  drama.  We  may  say  to  the  end :  since  Plutarch 
may  truly  be  said  to  end  with  the  suicide  of  Brutus.  The 
Aratus,  though  of  vivid  and,  with  the  Sylla,  of  unique 
interest — for  both  are  based  on  autobiographies  ^ — belongs, 
it  is  thought,  to  another  book.^  This,  I  have  already  said.  Additions  and 
is  true  of  the  Galba  and  the  OtJio,  dissevered  as  they  are  Omissions 
by  the  obvious  division  of  a  continuous  nan'ative  ;  and  of 
the  Artaxeroces,  which,  of  course,  has  nothing  to  do  among 
the  Greek  and  Roman  lives ;  while  the  Hannibal  and  Scipio 
(major),  included  by  North,  is  not  even  Plutarch.  These 
lives,  then,  were  added,  no  doubt,  to  complete  the  defect  of 
those  that  had  been  lost ;  as,  for  instance,  the  Metellus  pro- 
mised by  Plutarch  in  his  Marius,  and  the  book  of  Eparni- 
nondas  and  Scipio  (minor),  which  we  know  him  to  have 
written,  on  the  authority  of  his  son. 

If,  then,  ignoring  these  accretions,  we  study  the  physio- 
gnomy of  the  Parallel  Lives  as  revealed  in  the  '  Table,''  the 
national  tragedy  of  Athens  and  the  constitutional  drama  of 
Rome  are  seen  to  stand  out  in  consecutive  presentment  from 
its  earlier  and  latter  portions.  Each  is  at  once  apparent, 
because  each  has  been  reconstituted  for  us.     But  the  fact 

^  Freeman,  Methods  of  Historic  Study,  p.  1 68.     Mahaffy,   Greek  Life  atid 
Thought. 
^  A.  H.  Clough,  Plutarch's  Lives.     1883. 

XV 


INTRO- 
DUCTION 


The  Person- 
ality and 
Significance 
of  the  Lives 
essentially 
Political 


LIVES    OF    THE    NOBLE 

that  such  reconstitution  has  been  possible — proving,  as  it 
does,  how  complete  was  the  unsuspected  influence  of  Plu- 
tarch's political  temperament  over  his  conscious  selection  of 
great  men — puts  us  in  the  way  of  tracing  this  influence  over 
his  every  preference.  It  gives  a  key  to  one  great  chamber  in 
his  mind,  and  a  clue  which  we  can  follow  through  the  windings 
of  his  book.  It  makes  plain  the  fact  that  every  one  of  his 
heroes  achieved,  or  attempted,  one  of  four  political  services 
which  a  man  may  render  to  his  fellows.  Their  life-work  con- 
sisted (1)  in  founding  States  ;  (2)  in  defending  them  from 
foreign  invasion  ;  (3)  in  extending  their  dominion  ;  or  (4)  in 
leading  political  parties  within  their  confines.  All  are,  there- 
fore, men  who  made  history,  considered  each  one  in  relation 
to  his  State.  In  dealing,  for  instance,  with  Demosthenes  and 
Cicero,  Plutarch  '  will  not  confer  their  works  and  writings 
'  of  eloquence,'  but  '  their  acts  and  deeds  in  the  government 
'  of  the  commonwealth.''  In  this  manner,  also,  does  he  deal 
even  with  his  'founders,'  who  can  scarce  be  called  men, 
being  but  figures  of  legend  and  dream.  Yet  they  too 
were  evolved  under  the  spell  of  political  prepossession  in 
the  nations  which  conceived  their  legends ;  and  the  floating, 
shifting  appearances,  the  '  mist  and  hum '  of  them,  are  com- 
pacted by  a  writer  in  whom  that  prepossession  was  strongly 
present.  That  such  airy  creatures  should  figure  at  all  as 
historical  statesmen,  having  something  of  natural  movement 
and  bulk,  in  itself  attests  beyond  all  else  to  this  habit  of 
Plutarch's  mind.     Having  '  set  forth  the  lives  of  Lycurgus 

*  (which  established  the  law  of  the  Lacedemonians),  and  of 

*  King  Numa  Pompilius,'  he  thought  he  '  might  go  a  little 
'  further  to  the  life  of  Romulus,'  and  '  resolved  to  match  him 
'  which  did  set  up  the  noble  and  famous  city  of  Athens,  with 

*  him  which  founded  the  glorious  and  invincible  city  of  Rome.' 
He  is  dealing,  as  he  says,  with  matter  '  full  of  suspicion  and 
'  doubt,  being  delivered  us  by  poets  and  tragedy  makers, 

*  sometimes  without  truth  and  likelihood,  and  always  with- 
'  out  certainty.'  He  is  dealing,  indeed,  with  shadoAvs ;  but 
they  are  shadows  projected  backward  upon  the  mists  about 
their  origin  by  two  nations  which  were  above  all  things 
political ;  and  he  lends  them  a  further  semblance  of  con- 

xvi 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

sistency  and  perspective,  by  regarding  them  from  a  political      INTRO- 
point  of  view  in  the  light  of  a  later  political  experience.     His    DUCTION 
Theseus  and  his  Romuhis  are,  indeed,  a  tissue  woven  out  of 
folk-lore  and  the  faint  memories  of  a  savage  prime :   you  The  Folk-lore 
shall  find  in  them  traces  of  forgotten  customs  ;  marriage  by  of  Politics 
capture,^  for  instance,  and  much  else  that  is  frankly  beyond 
belief;  things  which,  he  says,  '  peradventure  will  please  the 
'  reader  better  for  their  strangeness  and  curiosity,  than  offend 
'  or  mislike  him  for  their  falsehood.''      But  his  Lycurgus^ 
saving  the  political  glosses,  and  his  PompiUus,  are  likewise  all 
of  legend  and  romance  :  of  the  days  '  when  the  Aventine  was 
'  not  inhabited,  nor  inclosed  within  the  walls  of  Rome,  but 
'  was  full  of  springs  and  shadowed  groves,"*  the   haunt  of 
Picus  and  Faunus,  and  of  '  Lady  Silence  "* ;  yet  he  contrives 
to  cast  a  political  reflection  over  even  this  noiseless  dream- 
land of  folk-lore.     Lycurgus  and  Theseus,  in  the  manner  of 
their  deaths,  present  vague  images  of  the  fate  which  in  truth 
befell  the  most  of  their  historic  prototypes.     Lycurgus  kills  Some  Heroes 
himself,  not  because  his  constitution  for  Sparta  is  in  danger  of  Legend 
but,  lest  any  should  seek  to  change  it;    and  the  bones  of 
Theseus,  the  Athenian,  murdered  by  his  ungrateful  country- 
men, are   magically  discovered,  and   are  brought  back  to 
Athens  '  with  great  joye,  with  processions  and  goodly  sacri- 
'  fices,  as  if  Theseus  himself  had  been  alive,  and  had  returned 
'  into  the  city  again.""     As  we  read,  we  seem  to  be  dreaming 
of  Gator's  death  at  Utica ;   and  of  Alcibiades"'  return,  when 
the  people  who  had  banished  him  to  the  ruin  of  their  country 
'  clustred  all  to  him  only  and  ,  .  .  put  garlands  of  flowers 
'  upon  his  head.' 

The  relation  of  the  Lives  in  the  three  other  categories 
to  the  political  temper  of  Plutarch  and  his  age  is  more 
obvious,  if  less  significant  of  that  temper  and  its  prevalence 
in  every  region  of  thought.  Of  the  Romans,  Publicola  and  and  Romance 
Coriolanus  belong  also  to  romance.  But  both  were  captains 
in  the  first  legendary  wars  waged  by  Rome  for  supremacy  in 
Italy  ;  and  the  lives  of  both  are  charged  with  the  hues  of 
party  politics.     Publicola  is  painted  as  the  aristocrat  who, 

*  The  marriage  of  Pirithous,  p.  62,  and  the  ravishment  of  the  Sabines, 

c  xvii 


INTRO- 
DUCTION 


Historic 

Rome 

and  Historic 

Greece 

Contrasted 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

by  patient  loyalty  to  the  Constitution,  lives  down  the  suspi- 
cions of  the  populace ;  Coriolanus,  as  a  type  of  caste  at  once 
noble  for  its  courage  and  lamentable  for  its  indomitable  pride. 
Passing,  after  these  four,  out  of  fable  into  history,  there 
remain  six  Romans  besides  the  thirteen  involved  in  the  cul- 
minating drama.  Three  of  these,  Furius  Camillus,  Marcellus, 
and  Quintus  Fabius  Maximus,  were  the  heroes  of  Rome's 
successful  resistance  to  foreign  invasion,  and  two,  T.  Q. 
Flaminius  and  Paulus  ^milius,  the  heroes  of  her  equally 
successful  foreign  and  colonial  policy ;  while  one  only,  Marcus 
Cato,  is  chosen  as  a  constitutional  politician  from  the  few 
untroubled  years  between  the  assurance  of  empire  abroad 
and  the  constitutional  collapse  at  home.  Turning  from 
Italy  to  Greece,  we  find,  again,  that  after  the  two  legendary 
founders  and  Solon,  the  more  or  less  historical  contriver 
of  the  Athenian  constitution,  the  remainder  Greeks  without 
exception  fall  under  one  or  more  of  the  three  other  cate- 
gories :  they  beat  back  invasion,  or  they  sought  to  extend 
a  suzerainty,  or  they  led  political  parties  in  pursuit  of 
political  ideals.  Swayed  by  his  political  temperament, 
Plutarch  exhibits  men  of  a  like  stamp  engaged  in  like  issues. 
But,  in  passing  from  his  public  men  of  Italy  to  his  public 
men  of  Greece,  we  may  note  that,  while  the  issues  which 
call  forth  the  political  energies  of  the  two  nations  are  the 
same,  a  difference  merely  in  the  order  of  event  Avorks  up  the 
same  characters  and  the  same  situations  into  another  play 
with  another  and  a  more  complicated  plot.  Rome  had  practi- 
cally secured  the  headship  of  the  Italian  States  some  years 
before  the  First  Punic  War.  Her  suzerainty  was,  therefore, 
an  accomplished  fact,  frequently  challenged  but  never  de- 
feated, before  the  Italian  races  were  called  upon  to  face  any 
foe  capable  of  absorbing  their  country.  But  in  Greece, 
neither  before  nor  after  the  Persian  invasion  did  any  one 
State  ever  become  permanently  supreme.  So  that,  whereas, 
in  Italy,  the  issue  of  internal  wars  and  jealousies  was  decided 
long  before  the  danger  of  foreign  domination  had  to  be  met ; 
in  Greece,  overshadowed  in  turn  by  the  Persian,  the  Mace- 
donian, and  the  Roman,  that  issue  was  never  decided  at 
all.  It  follows  that  the  history  of  Italy  is  the  history  of 
xviii 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

Rome,  and  not  of  the  Latins  or  of  the  Samnites;  but  that      INTRO- 
the  history  of  Greece  is,  at  first,  the  history  of  Athens,  of  DUCTION 
Sparta,  and  of  Thebes  in  rivalry  with  one  another,  and,  at 
last,  of  Macedon  and  Rome  brooding  over  leagues  and  con- 
federacies between  the  lesser  islands  and  States.    The  Roman  Their 
drama  is  single.     The  City  State  becomes  supreme  in  Italy  ;  ^?^^'^*^^^ 
rolls  back  wave  after  wave  of  Gauls  and  Carthaginians  and     ^  erences 
Teutons ;  extends  her  dominion  to  the  ends  of  the  earth ; 
and  then,  suddenly,  finds  her  Constitution  shattered  by  the 
strain  of  world-wide  empire.     Plutarch  gives  the  actors  in 
all  these  scenes  ;  but  it  is  in  the  last,  which  is  the  most  essen-  ^ 

tially  political,  that  he  crowds  his  stage  with  the  living,  and, 
afterwards,  cumbers  it  with  the  dead.  The  Greek  drama  is 
complex,  and  affords  no  such  opportunity  for  scenic  concen- 
tration. Even  the  first  and  simplest  issue,  of  repelling  an  in- 
vader, is  made  intricate  at  every  step  by  the  jealousy  between 
Sparta  and  Athens.  Plutarch  tells  twice  over  ^  that  Them- 
istocles,  the  Athenian,  who  had  led  the  allies  to  victory  at 
Salamis,  proposed  to  burn  their  fleets  at  anchor  so  soon  as 
the  danger  was  overpassed :  for  by  this  means  Athens  might 
seize  the  supremacy  of  the  sea.  The  story  need  not  be  true: 
that  it  should  ever  have  been  conceived  proves  in  what  spirit 
the  Greek  States  went  into  alliance,  even  in  face  of  Persia. 
The  lives  of  two  other  Athenians,  Cimon  and  Aristides, 
complete  Plutarch's  picture  of  the  Persian  War ;  and  after 
that  war  he  can  never  group  his  Greeks  on  any  single  stage. 
Each  of  them  seeks,  indeed,  to  extend  the  influence  of  his 
State,  or  to  further  his  political  opinions ;  but  in  the  tangle 
of  combinations  resulting  from  their  efforts  one  feature 
remains  unchanged  among  many  changes.  Through  all  the 
fighting  and  the  scheming  it  is  ever  Greek  against  Greek. 
The  history  is  a  kaleidoscope,  but  the  pieces  are  the  same. 
That  is  the  tragedy  of  Greece  :  the  ceaseless  duel  of  the 
few  with  the  many,  with  a  complication  of  racial  rivalries 
between  independent  City  States.  There  is  no  climax  of 
development,  there  is  no  sudden  failure  of  the  heart ;  but 
an  agony  of  spasm  twitches  at  every  nerve  in  the  body  in 
turn.  Extinction  follows  extinction  of  political  power  in 
^  In  the  Themistocles  and  in  the  Aristides. 

xix 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

INTRO-     one  State  after,  and  at  the  hands  of,  another;  and  in  the 
DUCT  I  ON    end  there  is  a  total  edipse  of  national  life  under  the  shadow 
of  Rome. 

It  is  customary  to  date  the  political   death   of  Greece 
from  the  battle  at   Chseronea,  in  which  the   Macedonians 
overthrew  the  allied  armies  of  Athens  and  Thebes.     But 
Plutarch's        to  Plutarch,  who  had  a  better,  because  a  nearer,  point  of 
Outlook  upon  view,  the  perennial  virulence  of  race  and  opinion,   which 
p  ?.^.  constituted  so  much  of  the  political  life  of  Greece,  went 

after  Chasronea  as  merrily  as  before.  The  combatants, 
on  whose  sky  was  but  clouded  by  the  empire  of  Alexander, 
fought  on  into  the  night  of  Roman  rule ;  and,  when  they 
relented,  it  was  even  then,  according  to  Plutarch,  only  from 
sheer  exhaustion.  Explaining  the  lull  in  these  rivalries 
during  the  old  age  of  Philopoemen,  he  writes  that  '  like  as 
'  the  force  and  strength  of  sickness  declineth,  as  the  natural 
'  strength  of  the  sickly  body  impaireth,  envy  of  quarrel  and 
'  war  surceased  as  their  power  diminished.'  Of  these  Greeks, 
other  than  the  founders  and  the  heroes  of  the  Persian  War, 
six  were  leaders  in  the  rivalry,  first,  between  Athens  and 
Sparta  and,  then,  between  Sparta  and  Thebes.  Of  these, 
three  were  Athenians — Pericles,  Nicias,  and  Alcibiades  ;  two 
were  Spartans — Lysander  and  Agesilaus ;  one  was  Pelopidas 
the  Theban.  These  six  lives  complete  Plutarch's  picture 
of  the  Peloponnesian  War.  Then,  still  keeping  to  Greeks 
proper,  he  indulges  in  an  excursion  to  Syracuse  in  the  lives 
of  Dion  and  Timoleon.  Later,  in  the  lives  of  Demosthenes 
and  Phocion,  you  feel  the  cloud  of  the  Macedonian  Empire 
gathering  over  Greece.  And,  lastly,  while  Rome  and  Mace- 
don  fight  over  her  head  for  the  substance  of  dominion  and 
political  reform,  two  kings  of  Sparta,  Agis  and  Cleomenes, 
and  two  generals  of  the  Achaean  League,  Aratus  and  Philo- 
poemen, are  found  still  thwarting  each  other  for  the  shadow. 
Plutarch  shows  four  others,  not  properly  to  be  called  Greeks  : 
the  Macedonians  Alexander  and  Demetrius,  Pyrrhus  the 
Molossian,  and  Eumenes,  born  a  Greek  of  Cardia,  but  a 
Macedonian  by  his  career.  These  four  come  on  the  stage  as 
an  interlude  between  the  rivalries  of  the  Peloponnesian  War 
and  the  last  futilities  of  the  Achaean  League.     Alexander 

XX 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

for  a  time  obliterates  all  lesser  lights  ;  and  in  the  lives  of      INT'RO- 
the  other  three  we  watch  the  flashing  train  of  his  successors.    DUCTION 
All  are  shining  figures,  all  are  crowned,  all  are  the  greatest 
adventurers  of  the  world ;  and  tumbling  out  of  one  kingdom 
into  another,  they  do  battle  in  glorious  mellays  for  cities  and 
diadems  and  Queens. 

Taking  a  clue  from  the  late  reconstitution  of  the  most  Forgeries  and 
moving  scenes  at  Athens  and  Rome,  I  follow  it  through  Interpola- 
the  Parallel  Lives,  and  I  sketch  the  political  framework  it  ^^^^^ 
discovers.      Into   that    framework,   which   co-extends   with 
Plutarch's  original  conception,  I  can  fit  every  life  in  North''s 
first  edition,  from  the  Theseus  to  the  Aratits.     1  could  not 
overlook  so  palpable  and  so  significant  a  result  of  Plutarch's 
political  temperament ;   and  I  must  note  it  because  it  has 
been  overlooked,  and  even   obscured,  in  later   editions   of 
Amyot  and  North.     Amyofs  first  and  second  editions,  of 
1559  and  1565,  both  end  with  the  Otho,  which,  although  it 
does  not  belong  to  the  Parallel  Lives,  was  at  least  Plutarch. 
But  to  Amyot's  third,  of  1567,  there  were  added  the  Annibal 
and  the  Scipion  (major),  first  fabricated  for  the  Latin  trans-  In  Latin 
lation  of  1470  by  Donato  Acciaiuoli  and  translated  into 
French  by  Charles  de  TEscluse,  or  de  la  Since,  as  North 
prefers  to  call  him.     These  two  lives  North  received  into  his 
first  edition  :  together  with  a  comparison  by  Simon  Goulards 
Senlisien,   an   industrious    gentleman   who,   as    '  S.    G.    S.,' 
supplied  him  with  further  material  at  a  later  date.^     For  French 
indeed,  once  begun  in  the  first  Latin  translation,  this  process 
of  completing  Plutarch  knew  no  bounds  for  more  than  two 
hundred  years.    The  Spanish  historian,  Antonio  de  Guevara,  and  Spanish 
had  perpetrated  a  decade  of  emperors,  Trajan,  Hadrian,  and 
eight  more,  and  these,  too,  were  translated  into  French  by 
Antoine  Allegre,  and  duly  appended  to  the  Amyot  of  1567 
by  its  publisher  Vascosan.    All  was  fish  that  came  to  Vascosan's 
net.    The  indefatigable  S.  G.  S.  concocted  lives  of  Augustus 
and  Seneca ;  translated  biographies  from  Cornelius  Nepos ; 

^  Professor  Skeat,  in  his  Shakespeare^  Plutarch,  leaves  the  attribution  of 
these  initials  in  doubt.  They  have  been  taken  by  many  French  editors  of 
Amyot  to  stand  for  B.  de  Girard,  Sieur  du  Haillan,  but  M.  de  Blignieres 
shows  in  his  Essai  sur  Amyot,  p.  184,  that  they  stood  for  Simon  Goulard,  the 
translator  of  Seneca. 

xxi 


INTRO- 
DUCTION 


North's 
Additions 


Rowe  and 
Dacier 


Simon 
Goulard 


LIVES   OF   THE    NOBLE 

and,  with  an  excellent  turn  for  symmetry,  supplied  unaided 
all  the  Comparisons  which  are  not  to  be  found  in  Plutarch. 
The  Chseronean  either  wrote  them,  and  they  were  lost ;  or, 
possibly,  he  paused  before  the  scaUng  of  Caesar  and  Alex- 
ander, content  with  the  perfection  he  had  achieved.  But 
S.  G.  S.  knew  no  such  emban-assment ;  and  Amyofs  publisher 
of  1583  accepted  his  contributions,  as  before,  in  the  lump. 
North  in  his  third  edition  of  1603  is  a  little,  but  only  a 
little,  more  fastidious  :  he  rejects  all  the  Comparisons  except, 
oddly  enough,  that  between  Caesar  and  Alexander ;  but  on 
the  other  hand,  he  accepts  from  S.  G.  S.  the  lives  of '  worthy 
'  chieftains '  and  '  famous  philosophers '  ^  who — and  this  is 
a  point — were  not,  as  all  Plutarch's  exemplars  were  before 
everything,  public  men.  Later,  the  international  compli- 
ment was  returned.  The  Abbe  Bellenger  translated  into 
French  eight  lives — of  ^Eneas,  Tullus  Hostilius,  and  so 
forth — concocted  in  English  by  Thomas  Rowe ;  and  these 
in  their  turn  were  duly  added,  first  to  Dacier's  Plutarch 
in  1734,  and  afterwards  to  the  Amyot  of  1783 :  an  edition 
you  are  not  surprised  to  see  filling  a  small  bookcase.  Cele- 
brities of  all  sorts  were  recruited,  simply  for  their  fame, 
from  every  age,  and  from  every  field  of  performance — 
Plato,  Aristotle,  Philip,  even  Charlemagne !  ^  And  the 
process  of  obscuring  Plutarch's  method  did  not  end  with  the 
interjection  of  spurious  stuflF.  Men  cut  down  the  genuine 
Lives  to  convenient  lengths,  for  summaries  and  '  treasuries,"* 
The  undefeated  S.  G.  S.  covered  the  margin  of  one  edition 
after  another  ^vith  reflections  tending  to  edification.  He  and 
his  kind  epitomised  Plutarch's  matter  and  pointed  his  moral, 
grinding  them  to  the  dust  of  a  classical  dictionary  and  the 
ashes  of  a  copybook  headline.  All  these  editions  and  epi- 
tomes and  maxims,  being  none  of  Plutarch's,  should  not,  of 
course,  in  reason  have  darkened  his  restriction  on  the  choice 
of  great  men.  Yet  by  their  number  and  their  vogue,  they 
have  so  darkened  it ;  and  the  more  easily,  for  that  Plutarch, 

^  Letter  of  dedication  to  Queen  Elizabeth.     Ed.  1631,  p.  1108. 

2  Fabricated  also  by  Acciaiuoli  for  Campani's  Latin  edition  of  1470,  and 
attributed  to  Plutarch   by  an   erudite   calling   himself  Viscellius.      Amyot 
himself  fabricated  the  lives  of  Epaminondas  and  Scipio  (minor)  at  the  request 
of  Marguerite  of  Savoye,  but  never  published  them  as  Plutarch. 
xxii 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

as  I  have  shown,  says  nothing  of  the  limit  he  observed.  INTRO- 
Beneath  these  additions  the  political  framework  of  the  Lives  DUCTION 
lay  buried  for  centuries ;  and  even  after  they  had  been  dis- 
carded by  later  translators,  it  was  still  shrouded  in  the  mist 
they  had  exhaled.  Banish  the  additions  and  their  atmo- 
sphere— fit  only  for  puritans  and  pedants — and  once  more 
the  political  framework  emerges  in  all  its  significance  and 
in  all  its  breadth. 

From  this  effect  we  cannot  choose  but  turn  to  the  causa  Plutarch's 
causans — the  mind  that  achieved  it.  We  want  to  know  the  Mind 
political  philosophy  of  a  writer  who,  being  a  student  of 
human  character,  yet  held  it  unworthy  his  study  save  in 
public  men.  And  the  curiosity  will,  as  I  think,  be  sharpened 
rather  than  rebated  by  the  reflection  that  many  of  his  com- 
mentators have,  none  the  less,  denied  him  any  political  insight 
at  all.^  Their  paradox  plucks  us  by  the  sleeve.  From  a 
soil  thus  impregnated  with  the  salt  of  political  instinct  one 
would  have  looked  in  the  harvest  for  some  savour  of  political 
truth ;  yet  one  is  told  that  the  Lives,  fruitful  of  all  besides, 
are  barren  of  this.  For  my  part,  I  must  believe  that  Plut- 
arch's commentators  have  been  led  to  a  false  conclusion  His  Com- 
along  one  of  two  paths :  either  they  have  listened  too  mentators 
innocently  to  his  avowed  intention  of  portraying  only  char- 
acter, and  have  been  confirmed  in  their  error  by  the  indis- 
criminate additions  to  his  work ;  or,  perceiving  his  exclusive 
choice  of  politicians,  they  have  still  declined  to  recognise 
political  wisdom  in  an  unexpected  shape.  In  a  work  which 
is  constituted,  albeit  without  intention,  upon  lines  thus 
definitely  political,  one  might  have  looked  for  many  direct 
pronouncements  of  political  opinion.  Yet  in  that  expecta- 
tion one  is  deceived — as  I  think,  happily.  For  Plutarch's 
methods,  at  least  in  respect  of  politics  and  war,  are  not  those 

^  Plutarch.  Five  Lectures,  p.  89.  Paul-Louis  Courier  and  many  others 
have  written  to  the  same  effect,  questioning  Plutarch's  accuracy  and  insight. 
On  the  question  of  accuracy,  I  am  content  to  quote  Ste.-Beuve,  Causeries 
du  Lutidi,  vi.  333  :  '  Quand  on  a  fait  la  part  du  rheteur  et  du  pretre 
d'Apollon  en  lui,  il  reste  une  bien  plus  large  part  encore,  ce  me  semble,  au 
coUecteur  attentif  et  consciencieux  des  moindres  traditions  sur  les  grands 
hommes,  au  peintre  abondant  et  curieux  de  la  nature  humaine ' :  and  to  refer 
to  Freeman,  Methods  of  Historical  Study ,  pp.  167,  168,  184. 

xxiii 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 


His  Methods 
and  Effects 


His  Aspasia 


INTRO-  of  analysis  or  of  argument,  but  of  pageant  and  of  drama, 
DUCTION  with  actors  living  and  mo\ing  against  a  background  of 
processions  that  move  and  live.  With  all  the  world  for  his 
stage,  he  shakes  oft'  the  habit  of  the  lecture-hall,  and  it  is  only 
now  and  again  that,  stepping  before  the  curtain,  he  ^vill 
speak  a  prologue  in  a  preface,  or  turn  chorus  to  comment 
a  space  upon  the  play.  Mostly  he  is  absorbed  in  presenting 
his  heroes  as  they  fought  and  as  they  fell ;  in  unfolding,  in 
scene  after  scene,  his  theatriim  of  stirring  life  and  majestical 
death,  I  cannot  deny  his  many  digressions  on  matters 
religious,  moral,  philosophical,  and  social ;  and  it  may  be 
that  their  very  number,  accentuating  the  paucity  of  his 
political  pronouncements,  has  emphasised  the  view  with 
which  I  cannot  concur.  Doubtless  they  are  there ;  nor  can 
I  believe  that  any  would  wish  them  away.  It  is  interesting 
to  hear  the  Pythagorean  view  of  the  solar  system ;  ^  and  it 
is  charming  to  be  told  the  gossip  about  Aspasia  ^  and  Dion- 
ysius  2  after  his  fall.  In  the  Pericles^  for  instance,  Plutarch 
pauses  at  the  first  mention  of  Aspasia's  name :  thinking  it 
'  no  great  digression  of  our  storie,  to  tell  you  '  by  the  way 
what  manner  of  woman  she  was.''  So 'he  tells  you  what 
manner,  and,  after  the  telling,  excuses  himself  once  more ; 
since,  as  he  says,  it  came  '  in  my  minde  :  and  me  thought  I 
'  should  have  dealt  hardly,  if  I  should  have  left  it  unwritten,'' 
His  Dionysius  Who  will  resent  such  compassion?  Vfho  so  immersed  in  aff'airs 
as  to  die  in  willing  ignorance  of  the  broken  man  who  seemed 
to  be  a  *  starke  nideotte,''  with  a  turn  for  low  life  and  repartee  ? 
Plutarch  can'ies  all  before  him  when  he  says  :  '  methinks  these 
'  things  I  have  intermingled  concerning  Dionysius,  are  not 
'  impertinent  to  the  description  of  our  Lives,  neither  are  they 
'  troublesome  nor  unprofitable  to  the  hearei-s,  unless  they 
'  have  other  hasty  business  to  let  or  trouble  them,"*  He  is 
irresistible  in  this  vein,  which,  by  its  lightness,  leads  one  to 
believe  that  some  of  the  lives,  like  some  modern  essays,  were 
first  delivered  before  popular  audiences,  and  then  collected 
with  others  conceived  in  a  graver  key.    There  are  many  such 

^  Numa  Pompilius  :  marred  in  North  by  a  mistranslation.     In  the  original 
it  approximates  to  the  Copernican  rather  than  to  the  Ptolemaic  theory. 
-  Pericles.  ^  Timoleon. 

xxiv 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

digressions.  But,  just  because  his  heroes  are  all  politicians,  INTRO- 
of  long  political  pronouncements  there  are  few :  even  as  of  DUCTION 
comments  on  the  art  of  war  you  shall  find  scarce  one,  for  the 
reason  that  strategy  and  tactics  are  made  plain  on  a  hundred 
fields.  His  politicians  and  captains  speak  and  fight  for 
themselves.  It  is  for  his  readers,  if  they  choose,  to  gather 
political  wisdom  from  (say)  his  lives  of  the  aforesaid  thirteen 
Romans ;  even  as,  an  they  will,  they  may  deduce  from  the 
Themistocles  or  the  Pojiipey  the  completeness  of  his  grasp 
upon  the  latest  theories  on  the  command  of  the  sea. 

Yet  there  are  exceptions,  though  rare  ones,  to  his  rule ; 
and  in  questioning  the  political  bent  of  his  mind  we  are  not 
left  to  inference  alone.  In  the  Lycurgus^  for  instance,  where 
the  actor  is  but  a  walking  shadow,  Plutarch  must  needs  deal  His  Political 
with  the  system  associated  with  Lycurgus"'s  name  :  so  in  this  Ideals 
life  we  have  the  theory  of  politics  which  Plutarch  favoured, 
whereas  in  the  Pericles  we  have  the  practice  of  a  consummate 
politician.  From  the  Lycurgus^  then,  we  are  able  to  gauge 
the  personal  equation  (so  to  say)  of  the  mind  which,  in  the 
Pericles,  must  have  coloured  that  mind's  presentment  of 
political  action  and  debate.  Plutarch,  like  Plato  before  him, 
is  a  frank  admirer  of  the  laws  which  Lycurgus  is  said  to 
have  framed.  He  delights  in  that  '  perfectest  manner  of 
'  a  commonwealth ''  which  made  the  city  of  Lycurgus  '  the 
'  chiefest  of  the  world,  in  glory  and  honour  of  government, 
'  by  the  space  of  five  hundred  years."*  He  tells  of  the  law- 
giver''s  journey  from  Crete  to  Asia,  to  compare  the  '  policy 
'  of  those  of  Crete  (being  then  very  straight  and  severe)  with 
'  the  superfluities  and  vanities  of  Ionia '' ;  and  you  may  gather 
from  the  context  that  the  one  appears  to  the  historian  'whole 
'  and  healthful,'  the  others  'sick  and  diseased.'  He  seems  also 
to  approve  Lycurgus's  indiscriminate  contempt  for  all'super- 
'  fluous  and  unprofitable  sciences  "* ;  for  the  devices  of '  licorous 
'  cooks  to  cram  themselves  in  corners,'  of  '  rhetoricians  who 
'  teach  eloquence  and  the  cunning  cast  of  lying,'  of  goldsmiths 
and  fortune-tellers  and  panders.  Again,  it  is  Avith  satisfac- 
tion that  he  paints  his  picture  of  Lycurgus  returning  '  home 
'  one  day  out  of  the  fields  .  .  .  laughing '  as  he  '  saw  the 
'  number  of  sheaves  in  shocks  together  and   no  one  shock 

d  XXV 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 


INTRO- 
DUCTION 


bigger 


His  Prefer- 
ence for  the 
Born  Ruler 


than  another ' ;  all  Laconia  being  '  as  it  were  an 
inheritance  of  many  brethren,  who  had  newly  made  parti- 
tion together/  But  if  Plutarch  approves  the  suppression 
of  luxury  and  the  equal  distribution  of  wealth  as  ideals,  he 
does  not  approve  the  equal  distribution  of  power.  He  is  in 
favour  of  constitutional  republics  and  opposed  to  hereditary 
monarchies ;  though  he  will  tolerate  even  these  in  coun- 
tries where  they  already  exist.^  But  he  is  for  republics  and 
against  monarchies  only  that  the  man  '  born  to  rule '  may 
have  authority  :  such  a  man,  for  instance,  as  Lycurgus, 
'  born  to  rule,  to  command,  and  to  give  orders,  as  having  in 
'  him  a  certain  natural  grace  and  power  to  draw  men  will- 
'  w?^^3/  to  obey  him.''  In  any  State,  he  postulates,  on  the  one 
hand,  an  enduring  Constitution  and  a  strong  Senate  of  proved 
men  ;  on  the  other,  a  populace  with  equal  political  rights  of 
electing  to  the  Senate  and  of  sanctioning  the  laws  that  Senate 
may  propose.  Yet  these  in  themselves  are  but  preliminary 
conditions  of  liberty  and  order.  Besides,  for  the  preservation 
of  a  State  there  are  needed  rulers  few  and  fit,  armed  with 
enough  authority  and  having  courage  enough  to  wield  it.  It 
is  essential  that  the  few,  who  are  fit,  shall  direct  and  govern 
the  many,  who  are  not.  If  authority  be  impaired,  whether 
by  incompetence  in  the  few  or  through  jealousy  in  the  many, 
then  must  disaster  follow.  Now,  many  who  hold  this  view 
are  prone,  when  disaster  does  follow,  to  blame  the  folly  of 
the  many  rather  than  the  unfitness  of  the  few.  But  Plutarch 
is  distinguished  in  this  :  that,  holding  the  view  as  firmly  as 
any  have  held  it — now  preaching  the  gospel  of  authority  and 
now  exhibiting  its  proof  at  every  turn — he  yet  imputes  the 
His  Theory  of  blame  of  failure,  almost  always,  to  incompetence  or  to  cow- 
Culpability  ardice  in  the  few.  '  He  that  directeth  well  must  needs  be 
'  well  obeyed.  For  like  as  the  art  of  a  good  rider  is  to  make 
'  his  horse  gentle  and  ready  at  commandment,  even  so  the 
'  chiefest  point  belonging  to  a  prince  is  to  teach  his  people 
'  to  obey.'  I  take  these  words  from  the  Lycurgus.  They 
set  forth  Plutarch's  chief  political  doctrine ;  and  the  state- 
ment of  fact  is  pointed  with  his  favourite  image.  That  the 
horse  (or  the  many)  should  play  the  antic  at  will,  is  to  him 
^  Comparison  of  Demetrius  with  Antonitis. 

xxvi 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

plainly  absurd  :  the  horse  must  be  ridden,  and  the  many  must  INTRO- 
be  directed  and  controlled.  Yet,  if  the  riding,  or  the  govern-  DUCTION 
ing,  prove  a  failure,  Plutarch"'s  quarrel  is  with  the  ruler  and 
the  horseman,  not  with  the  people  or  the  mount.  For  he 
knows  well  that  '  a  ragged  colt  oftimes  proves  a  good  horse, 
*  specially  if  he  be  well  ridden  and  broken  as  he  should  be.'  ^  His  Favourite 
This  is  but  one  of  his  innumerable  allusions  to  horse-break-  Image 
ing  and  hunting  :  as,  for  instance,  in  the  Paulus  JEmilius,  he 
includes  '  riders  of  horses  and  hunts  of  Greece '  among  painters 
and  gravers  of  images,  grammarians  and  rhetoricians,  as  the 
proper  Greek  tutors  for  completing  the  education  of  a  Roman 
moving  with  the  times.  And  no  one  who  takes  note  of  these 
allusions  can  doubt  that,  as  one  of  a  chivalrous  and  sporting 
race,  he  was  qualified  to  deal  with  images  drawn  from  the 
manege  and  the  chase.  As  little  can  any  one  who  follows 
his  political  drama  miss  the  application  of  these  images. 
Sometimes,  indeed,  his  constant  theme  and  his  favomite  image 
almost  seem  fused  :  as  when  he  describes  the  natural  grace 
of  his  Cassar,  '  so  excellent  a  rider  of  horse  from  his  youth, 
'  that  holding  his  hands  behind  him,  he  would  galop  his 
'  horse  upon  the  spur '' ;  a  governor  so  ever  at  one  with  those 
he  governed,  that  he  directed  even  his  charger  by  an  inflexion 
of  his  will  rather  than  of  his  body.  This  need  of  autho- 
rity and  the  obligation  on  the  few  to  maintain  it — by 
a  '  natural  grace,'  springing,  on  the  one  hand,  from  courage 
combined  with  forbearance  ;  and  leading,  on  the  other,  to 
harmony  between  the  rulers  and  the  ruled — is  the  text 
which,  given  out  in  the  Lycurgus,  is  illustrated  thi'oughout 
the  Parallel  Lives. 

I  have  said  that,  apart   from    the   Lycnrgus,  Plutarch's  His  Philo- 
political    pronouncements   are  to  be   found    mostly  in  the  sophy  of 
prefaces  to  certain  '  books '  and  in  scattered  comments  on  Harmony 
such  action  as  he  displays.     And  of  all  these  '  books '  the 
Pericles  and  Fahius   Maximus   is,  perhaps,  the   richest  in 
pronouncements,  in  both  its  preface  and  its  body,  all  bearing 
on  his  theory  of  authority  and  on  its  maintenance  by  '  natural 
grace.'     A  '  harmony '  is  to  be  aimed  at ;  but  a  harmony 
in  the  Dorian  mode.    Pericles  is  commended  because  in  later 
^  Themistodes. 

xxvii 


INTRO- 
DUCTION 


The  Greatness 
of  Pericles 


and  Fabius 
Maximus 


A  Result 
of  this 
Harmony 


LIVES   OF   THE    NOBLE 

life  '  he  was  wont  .  .  .  not  so  easily  to  grant  to  ail  the 
'  people's  wills  and  desires,  no  more  than  as  it  were  to 
*  contrary  winds.'  In  Plutarch's  eyes  he  did  well  when  '  he 
'  altered  his  over-gentle  and  popular  manner  of  government 
'  ...  as  too  delicate  and  effeminate  an  harmony  of  music, 
'  and  did  convert  it  into  an  imperious  government,  or  rather 
'  a  kingly  authority.'  He  has  nothing  but  praise  for  the  in- 
dependence and  fortitude  by  which  Pericles  achieved  Caesar's 
policy  of  uniting  within  himself  all  the  yearly  offices  of  the 
State,  '  not  for  a  little  while,  nor  in  a  gear  (fashion)  of 
'  favour,'  but  for  '  forty  years  together.'  He  compares  him 
to  the  captain  of  a  ship  '  not  hearkening  to  the  passengers' 
'  fearful  cries  and  pitiful  tears,'  and  holds  him  up  for  an 
example,  since  he  '  neither  would  be  persuaded  by  his  friends' 
'  earnest  requests  and  entreaties,  neither  cared  for  his  enemies' 
'  threats  and  accusations  against  him,  nor  yet  reckoned  of  all 
'  their  foolish  scoffing  songs  they  sung  of  him  in  the  city.' 
So,  too,  in  the  same  book,  when  Plutarch  comes  to  portray 
Fabius  Maximus,  he  gives  us  that  great  man's  view :  that 
'  to  be  afeard  of  the  wagging  of  every  straw,  or  to  regard 
'  every  common  prating,  is  not  the  part  of  a  worthy  man  of 
'  charge,  but  rather  of  a  base-minded  person,  to  seek  to  please 
'  those  whom  he  ought  to  command  and  govern,  because 
'  they  are  but  fools.'  (Thus  does  bkmt  Sir  Thomas  render 
Amyot's  polite,  but  equally  sound,  ^ parce  qiCils  ne  sont  pas 
'  sages.'')  But  the  independence  and  the  endurance  neces- 
sary in  a  ruler  are  not  to  be  accompanied  by  irritation  or 
contempt.  "Wliile  '  to  flatter  the  common  people '  is  at  best 
'  effeminate,'  and  at  worst  '  the  broad  high- way  of  them  that 
'  practise  tyranny,'  ^  still, '  he  is  less  to  be  blamed  that  seeketh 
'  to  please  and  gratify  his  common  people  than  he  that  de- 
'  spiseth  and  disdaineth  them ' ;  for  here  is  no  harmony  at 
all,  but  discord.  The  words  last  quoted  are  from  the  Com- 
parison between  Alcibiades  and  Coriolanus,  two  heroes  out 
of  tune  with  their  countrymen,  whose  courage  and  independ- 
ence were  made  thereby  of  no  avail.  But  in  the  Pericles  and 
Fabius  Maximus  Plutarch  shows  us  heroes  after  his  o^vn 
heart,  and  in  his  preface  to  their  lives  he  insists  more  ex- 
^  Furius  Camilhis. 

xxviii 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

plicitly  than  elsewhere  on  the  need  of  not  only  courage  and      INTRO- 
independence  but  also  forbearance  and  goodwill ;  since  with-    DUCTION 
out  these,  their  complements,  the  other  virtues,  are  sterile. 
Pericles  and  Fabius,  being  at  least  as  proud  and  brave  as  Three 
Alcibiades  and  Coriolanus,  '  for  tliat  they  would  patiently  Contrasts 
'  bear  the  follies  of  their  people  and  companions  that  were 
'  in  charge  of  government  with  them,  were  marvellous  profit- 
'  able  members  for  their  country."'    He  returns  to  this  theory 
of  harmony  in  his  preface  to  the  Phocion  and  Cato.     In 
every  instance  he  assumes  as  beyond  dispute,  that  the  few 
must  govern,  working  an  obedience  in  the  many ;  but  they 
are  to  work  it  by  a  'natural  grace'  of  adaptation  to  the 
needs  and  natures  they  command.     In  this  very  book   he 
blames  Cato  of  Utica,  not  for  the  '  ancient  simplicity  '  of  his 
manner,  which  'was  indeed  praiseworthy,"*  but,  simply  be- 
cause it  was  '  not  the  convenientest,  nor  the  fittest '  for  him  ; 
for  that  '  it  ansAvered  nor  respected  not  the  use  and  manners 
'  of  his  time."" 

How  comes  it  to  pass  that  Plutarch"'s  heroes,  being  thus  The  Practice 
prone  to  compromise,  yet  fight  and  die,  often  at  their  own  ^"^  Theory  of 
hands,  for  the  ideals  they  uphold  ?  The  question  is  a  fair  ^lUf"  ^ 
one,  and  the  answer  reveals  a  profound  difference  between 
the  theory  and  the  practice  of  politics  approved  by  the 
ancient  world  and  the  theory  and  the  practice  of  politics 
approved  in  the  England  of  to-day.  '  The  good  and  ill,"* 
says  Plutarch,  '  do  nothing  differ  but  in  mean  and  medio- 
'  crity."*  We  might  therefore  expect  in  his  heroes  a  reluc- 
tance to  sacrifice  all  for  a  difference  of  degree ;  and  especially 
might  we  suppose  that,  after  deciding  an  equipoise  so  nice  as 
that  between  'authority  and  lenity,'  his  governors  would  stake 
little  on  their  decision.  But  in  a  world  of  adjustment  and 
doubt  they  are  all  for  compromise  in  theory,  while  in  action 
they  are  extreme.  They  are  ready  in  spite,  almost  because, 
of  that  doubt,  to  seal  with  their  blood  such  certainty  as  they 
can  attain.  His  statesmen,  inasmuch  as  they  do  respect 
'  the  use  and  manners '  of  their  time,  endure  all  things  while 
they  live,  and  at  last  die  quietly,  not  for  an  abstract  idea  or 
a  sublime  emotion,  but  for  the  compromise  of  their  day  : 
though    they  know   it   for   a   compromise,  and   foresee  its 

xxix 


INTRO- 
DUCTION 


Our  Own 


Some  Con- 
stants of  the 
Problem 


LIVES    OF   THE   NOBLE 

inevitable  destruction.  They  have  no  enthusiasm,  and  no 
ecstasy.  Uninspired  from  without,  and  self-gathered  within, 
they  live  their  lives,  or  lay  them  down,  for  the  use  and  wont 
of  their  country.  In  reading  their  history  an  Englishman 
cannot  but  be  struck  by  the  double  contrast  between  these 
tendencies  of  theory  and  action  and  the  tendencies  of  theory 
and  action  finding  favour  in  England  now.  Ever  extreme 
in  theory,  we  are  all  for  compromise  in  fact;  proud  on 
the  one  score  of  our  sincerity,  on  the  other  of  our  common- 
sense.  We  are  fanatics,  who  yet  decline  to  persecute, 
still  less  to  suffer,  for  our  faith.  And  this  temperance  of 
behaviour,  following  hard  on  the  violent  utterance  of 
belief,  is  apt  to  show  something  irrational  and  tame.  The 
actor  stands  charged,  often  unjustly,  with  a  lack  of  both 
logic  and  courage.  The  Greeks,  on  the  other  hand,  who 
found  '  truth  in  a  union  of  opposites  and  the  aim  of  life  in 
'  its  struggle,'  ^  and  the  Romans,  who  aped  their  philosophy 
and  outdid  their  deeds,  are  not,  in  Plutarch^'s  pages,  open  to 
this  disparagement.  They  live  or  die  for  their  faiths  as 
they  found  them,  and  so  appear  less  extravagant  and  more 
brave.  The  temper  is  illustrated  again  and  again  by  the 
manner  in  which  they  observe  his  doctrine,  that  rulers  must 
maintain  their  authority,  and  at  the  same  time  '  bear  the 
'  follies  of  their  people  and  companions  that  are  in  charge 
'  of  government  with  them."*  To  read  the  Pericles  or  the 
Pompeius,  the  Julius  CcBsar  or  the  Cato,  is  to  feel  that  a 
soldier  may  as  well  complain  of  bullets  in  a  battle  as  a  states- 
man of  stupidity  in  his  colleagues.  These  are  constants  of 
the  problem.  Only  on  such  terms  are  fighting  and  ruling  to 
be  had.  So,  too,  with  'the  people "*:  with  the  many,  that 
is,  who  have  least  chance  of  understanding  the  game,  least 
voice  in  its  conduct,  least  stake  in  its  success.  If  these 
forget  all  but  yesterday's  service,  if  they  look  only  for  to- 
morrow's reward,  the  hero  is  not  therefore  to  complain. 
This  short-lived  memory  and  this  short-sighted  imagination 
are  constants  also.  They  are  regular  fences  in  the  course  he 
has  set  himself  to  achieve.  He  must  clear  them  if  he  can,  and 
fall  if  he  cannot ;  but  he  must  never  complain.  They  are  con- 
^  Tke  Moral  Ideal,  Julia  Wedgwood,  p.  82. 
XXX 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

ditions  of  success,  not  excuses  for  failure;  and  to  name  INTRO- 
them  is  to  be  ridiculous.  The  Plutarchian  hero  never  does  DUCTION 
name  them.  He  is  obstinate,  but  not  querulous.  He  cares 
only  for  the  State ;  he  insists  on  saving  it  in  his  own  way ; 
he  kills  himself,  if  other  counsels  prevail.  But  he  never 
complains,  and  he  offers  no  explanations.  Living,  he  prefers 
action  before  argument ;  dying,  he  chooses  drama  rather  than 
defence.  While  he  has  hope,  he  acts  like  a  great  man  ;  and 
when  hope  ceases,  he  dies  like  a  great  actor.  He  and  his 
fellows  seek  for  some  compromise  between  authority  and 
lenity,  and,  having  found  it,  they  maintain  it  to  the  end. 
They  are  wise  in  taking  thought,  and  sublime  in  taking 
action  :  whereas  now,  we  are  courageous  in  our  theories,  but 
exceeding  cautious  in  our  practice.  Yet  who  among  modern 
politicians  will  say  that  Plutarch's  men  were  in  the  wrong .'' 
Who,  hoarse  ^vith  shouting  against  the  cataract  of  circum- 
stance, will  dare  reprove  the  dumb-show  of  their  lives  and 
deaths  ? 

I  have  shown  from  the  Li/curgus,  from  the  prefaces  to  Plutarch's 
the  Pericles  and  the  PJiociOTi,  and  from  scattered  com-  Political 
ments  elsewhere,  that  Plutarch  has  something  to  say  upon  jyyJIliy 
politics  which,  whether  we  agree  with  him  or  not,  is  at  least  Ordered 
worthy  our  attention.  There  is  yet  an  occasion  of  one  other 
kind — which  he  takes,  I  think,  only  twice — for  speaking 
his  own  mind  upon  politics.  After  the  conclusion  of  a  long 
series  of  events,  ending,  for  instance,  in  the  rule  of  Rome 
over  Greece,  or  in  the  substitution  of  the  Empire  for  the 
Republic,  he  assembles  these  conclusions,  at  first  sight  to  him 
unreasonable  and  unjust,  and  seeks  to  interpret  them  in  the 
light  of  divine  wisdom  and  justice.  Now,  he  was  nearer  than 
we  are  to  the  two  great  sequences  I  have  denoted,  by  seven- 
teen centm'ies  :  he  lived,  we  may  say,  in  a  world  which  they 
had  created  anew.  And  whereas  he  took  in  all  political 
questions  a  general  interest  so  keen  that  it  has  coloiu'ed  the 
whole  of  a  work  not  immediately  addressed  to  politics,  in 
these  two  sequences  his  interest  was  particular  and  personal : 
in  the  first  because  of  his  patriotism,  and  in  the  second  be- 
cause of  his  familiar  converse  with  the  best  in  Rome.  We 
are  happy,  then,  in  the  judgment  of  such  a  critic  on  the  two 

xxxi 


INTRO- 
DUCTION 


His  Accept- 
ance of  the 
Sovranty  of 
Rome 


For  the  Sake 
of  Roman 
Virtue 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

greatest  political  dramas  enacted  in  the  ancient  world.  The 
human — I  might  say  the  pathetic — interest  of  the  treatment 
accorded  by  the  patriotic  Greek  to  the  growth  of  Roman 
dominion  and  its  final  extension  over  the  Hellenistic  East, 
will  absorb  the  attention  of  many.  But  it  offers,  besides,  as 
I  think,  although  this  has  been  questioned,  much  of  political 
wisdom.  In  any  case,  on  the  one  count  or  upon  the  other, 
I  feel  bound  to  indicate  the  passages  in  which  he  comments 
on  these  facts.  We  are  not  in  doubt  as  to  his  general  views 
on  Imperial  aggression  and  a  '  forward  policy.'  After  noting 
that  the  Romans  forsook  the  peaceful  precepts  of  Numa, 
and  '  filled  all  Italy  with  murder  and  blood,""  he  imagines 
one  saying  :  '  But  hath  not  Rome  excelled  still,  and  prevailed 
'  more  and  more  in  chivalry  .? ""  And  he  replies  :  ^  '  This  ques- 
'  tion  requireth  a  long  answer,  and  especially  unto  such  men 
'  as  place  felicity  in  riches,  in  possessing  and  in  the  greatness 
'  of  empire,  rather  than  in  quiet  safety,  peace  and  concord  of 
'  a  common  weal.''  For  his  part  he  thought  with  Lycurgus,^ 
that  a  city  should  not  seek  to  command  many  ;  but  that '  the 
'  felicity  of  a  city,  as  of  a  private  man,  consisted  chiefly  in 
'  the  exercise  of  virtue,  and  the  unity  of  the  inhabitants 
'  thereof,  and  that  the  citizens  should  be  nobly  minded 
'  (Amyot :  francs  de  cueiirs),  content  with  their  own,  and 
'  temperate  in  their  doings  {attrempez  en  tous  leurs  faicts\ 
'  that  thereby  they  might  maintain  and  keep  themselves  long 
'  in  safety.'  But,  holding  this  general  opinion,  and  biassed 
into  the  bargain  by  his  patriotism,  he  cannot  relate  the 
stories  of  Aratus  and  Philopoemen  on  the  one  hand,  or  of 
Flaminius  and  Lucullus  on  the  other,  without  accepting 
the  conclusion  that  the  rule  of  Rome  was  at  last  necessary 
for  the  rational  and  just  government  of  the  world  ;  and, 
therefore,  was  inevitably  ordained  by  the  Divine  wisdom. 
Rome  '  increased  and  grew  strong  by  arms  and  continual 
'  wars,  like  as  piles  driven  into  the  ground,  which  the  more  they 
'  are  rammed  in  the  further  they  enter  and  stick  the  faster^  ^ 
For  it  was  by  obedience  and  self-restraint,  by  a  '  yielding 
'  unto  reason  and  virtue  "*  that  the  *  Romans  came  to  com- 


Comparhon  of  Lycurgus  with  Numa  Pompilius. 
Lycurgus.  ^  Numa  Pompilius. 


XXXll 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

'  mand  all  other  and  to  make  themselves  the  mightiest  INTRO- 
'  people  of  the  world/  ^  In  Greece  he  finds  nothing  of  this  DUCTION 
obedience  and  this  self-restraint ;  nothing  but  rivalry  be- 
tween leaders  and  jealousy  between  States.  Cleomenes,  the 
Spartan  king,  Aratus  and  Philopcemen,  both  leaders  of  the 
Achaean  League,  are  among  the  last  of  his  Greek  heroes.  He 
lingers  over  them  lovingly  ;  yet  it  is  Aratus  who,  in  jealousy 
of  Cleomenes,  brings  Antigonus  and  his  Macedonians  into 
Greece ;  and  it  is  Flaminius,  the  Roman,  who  expels  them. 
In  this  act  some  modern  critics  have  seen  only  one  of 
many  cloaks  for  a  policy  of  calculated  aggression,  but  it  is 
well  to  remember  for  what  it  is  worth  that  Plutarch,  the 
Greek  patriot,  saw  in  it  simply  the  act  of  a  'just  and  com--  As  Opposed  to 
'  teous  gentleman,"*  and  that,  according  to  him,  the  '  only  the  Selfish- 
'  cause  of  the  utter  destruction  of  Greece '  must  be  sought  "^^^  ^"^  *^® 
earlier :  when  Aratus  preferred  the  Macedonians  before  ofGreece ^^'^ 
allowing  Cleomenes  a  first  place  in  the  Achaean  League. 
In  the  Cimon  and  Lucullus^  even  after  Greece  became  a 
Roman  province,  he  shows  the  same  rivalries  on  a  smaller 
scale.  The  *  book  "*  opens  with  a  story  which,  with  a  few 
changes,  mostly  of  names,  might  be  set  in  the  Ireland  of  a 
hundred  years  ago.  One  Damon,  an  antique  Rory  of  the 
Hills,  after  just  provocation,  collects  a  band  of  moonlighters 
who,  with  blackened  faces,  set  upon  and  murder  a  Roman 
captain.  The  town  council  of  Chaeronea  condemns  Damon 
and  his  companions  to  death,  in  proof  of  its  own  innocence, 
and  is  murdered  for  its  pains.  At  last  Damon  himself  is 
enticed  into  a  bathhouse,  and  killed.  Then  the  Orchome- 
nians,  'being  near  neighbours  unto  the  Chaeroneans,  and 
'  therefore  their  enemies,''  hire  an  '  informer  "*  to  accuse  all  the 
Chaeroneans  of  complicity  in  the  original  murder ;  and  it  is 
only  the  just  testimony  of  the  Roman  general,  Lucullus,  who 
chances  to  be  marching  by,  which  saves  the  town  from 
punishment.  An  image  is  set  up  to  Lucullus  which  Plutarch 
has  seen ;  and  even  to  his  day  '  terrible  voices  and  cries  "*  are 
heard  by  the  neighbours  from  behind  the  walled-up  door  of 
the  bathhouse,  in  which  Damon  had  died.  He  knows  the 
whole  story  from  his  childhood,  and  knows  that  in  this  small 
^  Paulus  ALiniluis. 

e  xxxiii 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

INTRO-      matter  Lucullus  showed  the  same  justice  and  courtesy  which 
DUCTION   Flaminius  had  displayed  in  a  gi'eat  one.     For  it  is  only  the 
strong  who  can  be  just ;  and  therefore  to  the  strong  there 
falls  in  the  end,  without  appeal,  the  reward,  or  the  penalty, 
of  doing  justice  throughout  the  world.     That  seems  to  be 
Plutarch's  'long  answer ""  to  those  who  question  the  justice 
The  Justice      of  the  Roman  Empire.     He  gives  it  most  fully  in  the  life  of 
of  the  Roman  Flaminius,  taking,  as  I  have  said,  a  rare  occasion  in  order  to 
Lmpire  comment  on  the  conclusion  of  a  long  series  of  events.    First, 

he  sums  up  the  results  achieved  by  the  noble  Greeks,  many 
of  whose  lives  he  has  written.  '  For  Agesilaus,'  he  writes, 
'  Lysander,  Nicias,  Alcibiades,  and  all  other  the  famous  cap- 
'  tains  of  former  times,  had  very  good  skill  to  lead  an  army, 
'  and  to  winne  the  battle,  as  well  by  sea  as  by  land,  but  to 
'  turn  their  victories  to  any  honourable  benefit,  or  true  honour 
'  among  men,  they  could  never  skill  of  it  "* ;  especially  as, 
apart  from  the  Persian  War,  'all  the  other  wars  and  the 
'  battles  of  Greece  that  were  made  fell  out  against  them- 
'  selves,  and  did  ever  bring  them  unto  bondage :  and  all 
'  the  tokens  of  ti'iumph  which  ever  were  set  up  for  the 
'  same  was  to  their  shame  and  loss.^  Having  summed  up  the 
tragedy  of  Greece  in  these  words,  he  turns  to  the  Roman  lade, 
and  '  The  good  deeds  of  the  Romans  and  of  Titus  Quintus 
'  Flaminius,'  he  says, '  unto  the  Grecians,  did  not  only  reap  this 
'  benefit  unto  them,  in  recompense  that  they  were  praised 
'  and  honoured  of  all  the  world  ;  but  they  were  cause  also  of 
'  increasing  their  dominions  and  empire  over  all  nations.' 
So  that '  peoples  and  cities  .  .  .  procured  them  to  come,  and  did 
'  put  themselves  into  their  hands ' ;  and  '  kings  and  princes 
'  also  (which  were  oppressed  by  other  more  mighty  than 
'  themselves)  had  no  other  refuge  but  to  put  themselves 
'  under  their  protection,  by  reason  whereof  in  a  very  short 
'  time  ...  all  the  world  came  to  submit  themselves  under  the 
'  protection  of  their  empire.' 
Plutarch  and  In  the  same  way,  he,  a  republican,  acquiesced  in  the  neces- 
Caesar  gj^-y  fgj.  Caesar.     Having  told  the  story  of  Brutus,  the  last 

of  the  thirteen  Romans,  he  falls  on  the  other  of  my  two 
occasions,  and  '  Caesar's  power  and  government,'  he  writes, 
'  when  it  came  to  be  established,  did  indeed  much  hurt  at 
xxxiv 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

'  his  first  entrie  and  beginning  unto  those  that  did  resist      INTRO- 

'  him  :  but  afterwards  there  never  followed  any  tyrannical  nor    DUCTION 

*  cruel  act,  but  contrarily,  it  seemed  that  he  was  a  merciful 

'  Physician  whom  God  had  ordained  of  special  grace  to  he 

'  Governor  of  the  Empire  of  Rome,  and  to  set  all  thing's  again 

'  at  quiet  stay,  the  which  required  the  counsel  and  authority 

'  of  an  absolute  Prince.''     That  is  his  epilogue  to  the  longest 

and  the  mightiest  di'ama  in  all  history ;  and  in  it  we  have 

for  once  the  judgment  of  a  playwright   on  the  ethics  of 

his  play.    Yet  so  great  a  dramatist  was  Plutarch  that  even  One  Effect  of 

his  epilogue  has  not  saved  him  from  the  fate  of  his  peers,  liis  Art 

While  some,  with  our  wise  King  James  i.,  blame  him  for 

injustice  to  Caesar,^  yet  others  find  him  a  niggard  in  his 

worship  of  Brutus   and   Cato.       The   fact  is,  each  of  his 

heroes  is  for  the  moment  of  such  flesh  and  blood  as  to 

compel  the  pity  of  him  that  reads ;  for  each  is  in  turn  the 

brother  of  all  men,  in  their  hope  and  in  their  despair.     If, 

then,  the  actor  chances  to  be  Brutus  and  the  reader  King 

James,  Plutarch  is  damned  for  a  rebel ;   but  again,  if  the 

reader  be  a  republican,  when  Servilia's  lover  wraps  him  in 

his  cloak  and  falls,  why,  then  is  Plutarch  but  the  friend  of 

a  tyrant.      Thus  by  the  excellence  of  his  art  he  forces  us 

to  argue  that  his  creatures  must  reign  in  his  affection  as 

surely  as  for  a  moment  they  can  seize  upon  our  own.     Take 

an  early  hero  of  the  popular  party — take  Caius  Gracchus.  Caius 

We  know  him  even  to  his  trick  of  vehement  speech  ;  and,  Gracchus 

knowing  him  so  intimately,  we  cannot  but  mourn  over  that 

parting  from  his  wife,  when  he  left  her  to  meet  death,  and 

she,  'reaching  after  him  to  take  him  by  the  gown,  fell  to 

'  the  ground  and  lay  flatlings  there  a  great  while,  speak- 

'  ing  never  a  word."*     Cato,  again,  that  hero  of  the  other  Cato 

side,  lives   to   be  forbidding  for  his  affectation  ;   yet  who 

but  remembers  the  clever  boy  making  orations  full  of  '  witt 

'  and   vehemence,'  with    a   '  certaine   gravetie ''  which    '  de- 

'  lighted  his  hearers  and  made  them  laugh,  it  did  so  please 

'  them  "*  ?     One  harks  back  to  the  precocious  youngster,  once 

the  hope  of  the  winning  party,  when  Cato,  left  alone  in 

*  In  his  interview  with  Casaubon.     See  Ste.-Beuve  :  Causeries  du  Lundi, 
xiv.  402. 

XXXV 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 


INTRO-     Utica,   the  last   soul    true   to  a  lost  cause,  asks   the   dis- 
DUCTION    semblers    of   his    sword   if   they    'think    to    keep    an    old 
'  man   alive    by   force  ? ""      He    takes    kindly   thought    for 
the    safety    of    his    friends,    reads    the    Phcedo,  and    dozes 
fitfully  through    the    night,   and    behold  !   you   are  in  the 
room  with  a  great  man  dying.     You  feel  with  him  that 
chill  disillusion  of  the  dawn,  when  '  the  little  birds  began 
'  to  chirp''  •,  you  share  in  the  creeping  horror  of  his  servants, 
listening  outside  the  door ;  and  when  they  give  a  '  shriek 
'  for  fear '  at  the   '  noise  of  his  fall,  overthrowing  a  little 
'  table  of  geometry  hard  by  his  bed,"  it  is  almost  a  relief 
to   know   that   the    recovered    sword    has    done    its    work. 
Pompeius         And  who  can   help  loving  Pompey,  Avith  his  '  curtesie  in 
Magnus  i  conversation ;  so  that  there  was  never  man  that  requested 

'  anything  with  less  ill  icill  than  he,  nor  that  more  willingly 
'  did  pleasure  unto  any  man  when  he  was  requested.  For 
'  he  gave  zaithout  disdain  and  took  with  great  honour '  ? 
'  The  cast  and  soft  moving  of  his  eyes  .  .  .  had  a  certain 
'  resemblaunce  of  the  statues  and  images  of  King  Alexander.' 
Even  '  Flora  the  curtisan "" — Villon"'s  '  Flora  la  belle  Romaine "' 
— pined  away  for  love  of  him  when  he  turned  her  over  to  a 
friend.  He  is  all  compact  of  courage  and  easy  despair  :  now 
setting  sail  in  a  tempest,  for  '  it  is  necessity,  I  must  go,  but 
'  not  to  live '' ;  and  again,  at  Pharsalia,  at  the  first  reverse 
\fo7getting  that  he  was  Pompey  the  Great,""  and  leaving  the 
field  to  walk  silently  away.  And  that  last  scene  of  all :  when 
on  a  desolate  shore  a  single  '  infranchised  bondman '  who  had 
'  remained  ever  "*  by  the  murdered  hero,  '  sought  upon  the 
'  sands  and  found  at  the  length  a  piece  of  an  old  fisher''s 
'  boat  enough  to  serve  to  burn  his  naked  body  with ' ;  and  so 
a  veteran  Avho  had  been  with  him  in  his  old  wars  happens 
upon  the  afflicting  scene ;  and  you  hear  him  hail  the  other 
lonely  figure  :  '  O  friend,  what  art  thou  that  preparest  the 
'  funerals  of  Pompey  the  Great  ?  .  .  .  Thou  shall  not  have 
'  all  this  honour  alone  ...  to  bury  the  only  and  most 
'  famous  Captain  of  the  Romans  !' 

There  is  sorcery  in  Plutarch's  presentments  of  these  politi- 
cians, which  may  either  blind  to  the  import  of  the  drama 
they  enact,  or  beguile  into  thinking  that  he  sympathises 
xxxvi 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

by  turns  with  the  ideal  of  eveiy  leader  he  portrays.     But      INTRO- 
behind  the  glamour  of  their  living  and  the  glory  of  their    DUCTION 
death,  a  relentless  progression  of  political  causes  and  effects 
conducts  inevitably  to  Caesar's  personal  rule.     In  no  other 
book  do  we  see  so  full  an  image  of  a  nation's  life,  because  in 
no  other  is  the  author  so  little  concerned  to  prove  the  truth 
of  any  one  theory,  or  the  nobility  of  any  one  sentiment. 
He  is  detached — indeed,  absorbed — in  another  purpose.    He  Plutarch's 
exhibits  his  thirteen  vivid  personalities,  holding,  mostly  by  Impartiality 
birth,  to  one  of  two  historic  parties,  and   inheriting  with 
those  parties  certain  traditional  aspirations  and  beliefs ;  yet 
by  showing  men  as  they  are,  he  contrives  to  show  that  truth 
and  nobility  belong  to  many  divergent  beliefs  and  to  many 
conflicting  aspirations.     Doubtless  he  has  his  own  view,  his 
rooted  abhorrence  to  the  rule  of  one  man ;  and  this  persua- 
sion inclines  him  now  to  the  Popular  Party  in  its  opposition 
to  Sulla,  and  again  to  the  Senate  in  its  opposition  to  Caesar. 
But  still,  by  the  sheer  force  of  his  realism,  he  drives  home,  as 
no  other  writer  has  ever  done,  the  great  truth  that  theories 
and  sentiments  are  in  politics  no  more  than  flags  and  tuckets 
in  a  battle :  that  in  fighting  and  in  government  it  is,  after 
all,  the  fighting  and  the  governing  which  must  somehow 
or  another  be  achieved.      And,  since  in  this  world  govern-  His  Con- 
ing there  must  be,  the  question  at  any  moment  is :  What  elusion  m  the 
are  the  possible  conditions  of  government  ?     In  the  latter  ^^^^^jj^^  ^^^ 
days  of  the  Republic  it  appears  from  the  Lives  that  two 
sets   of  causes   had    led    to    a   monstrous   development    of 
individuals,  in  whose   shadow  all  lower  men  must  wither 
away.     So  Sertorius  sails  for  the  '  Fortunate  Islands  ** ;  Cato 
is  juggled  to  Cyprus;  Cicero  is  banished;  while  Lucullus, 
out-metalled  by  Pompey  on  his  own  side,  '  lay  still  and  took 
'  his  pleasure,  and  would  no  more  meddle  with  the  common- 
'  wealth,'  and  the  unspeakable  Bibulus  '  kept  him  close  in  his 
'  house  for  eight  months'  space,  and  only  sent  out  bills,'     At 
last  you  have  the  Triumvirate ;  and  then,  with  Crassus  killed, 
the  two  protagonists  face  to  face  :  '  whose  names  the  strange 
'  and  far  nations  understood  before  the  name  of  Romans,  so 
'  great  were  their  victories.'    Given  the  Roman  dominion  and 
two  parties  with  the  traditions  of  Marius  and  Sulla  behind 

xxxvii 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

INTRO-  them,  there  was  nothing  for  it  but  that  one  or  other  should 
DUCTION  prove  its  competence  to  rule;  and  no  other  way  of  achieving 
this  than  finding  the  man  and  giving  him  the  power.  The 
Marians  found  Caesar,  and  in  him  a  man  who  could  find  power 
for  himself.  The  political  heirs  of  Sulla  found  Cato  and 
Brutus,  and  Lucullus  and  Pompey ;  but  none  of  these  was 
Caesar,  and,  such  as  they  were,  the  Senate  played  them  off 
the  one  against  the  other.  Bemused  with  theories  and  senti- 
ments, they  neither  saw  the  necessity,  nor  seized  the  means, 
of  governing  a  world  that  cried  aloud  for  government.  In 
Plutarch  you  watch  the  play ;  and,  whatever  you  may  think 
of  the  actors — of  Crassus  or  Cato,  Pompey  or  Caesar — of  the 
non-actors  you  can  think  nothing.  Bibulus,  with  his  '  bills,*" 
and  the  Senate,  which  bade  Pompey  disband  his  troops,  stand 
for  ever  as  types  of  formal  incompetence.  Plutarch  shows 
The  True  that  it  is  wiser  and  more  righteous  to  win  the  game  by 
Morality  accepting  the  rules,  even  if  sometimes  you  must  strain  and 

break  them,  than  to  leave  the  table  because  you  dislike  the 
rules.  Instead  of  quarrelling  with  the  rules  and  losing  the 
game,  the  Senate  should  have  won  the  game,  and  then  have 
changed  the  rules.  This  Caesar  did,  as  Plutarch  the  repub- 
lican allows,  to  the  saving  of  his  country  and  the  lasting 
profit  of  mankind.  Doubtless  he  shows  the  argument  in 
action,  and  points  the  moral  only  in  an  epilogue.  But  living, 
as  we  do,  after  the  politicians  of  so  many  ages  and  so 
many  parties  have  laid  competing  claims  to  the  glory  of  his 
chiefs,  this  is  our  gain.  Brutus  and  Cato,  heroes  of  the 
Renaissance  and  gods  of  liberty  a  hundred  years  ago,  we 
are  told  by  eminent  historians,  were  selfish  oligarchs : 
bunglers  who,  having  failed  to  feed  the  city  or  to  flush  the 
drains,  wrote  '  sulky  letters  *"  ^  about  the  one  man  who  could 
do  these  things,  and  govern  the  world  into  the  bargain. 
Between  these  views  it  skills  not  to  decide.  It  is  enough  to 
take  up  the  Lives  and  to  rejoice  that  Plutarch,  writing  one 
hundred  and  fifty  years  after  the  foundering  of  the  Republic, 
dwelt  rather  on  its  heroes  who  are  for  ever  g-lorious  than  on 
its  theories  which  were  for  ever  shamed. 

In  his  book  are  three  complete  plays :  the  brief  tragedy 
^  Mommsen  :  he  uses  the  phrase  of  Cicero. 

xxxviii 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

of  Athens — that  land  of '  honey  and  hemlock,''  offering  her  cup      I NTRO- 
of  sweet  and  deadly  elements  to  the  dreamers  of  every  age;    DUCTION 
with  the  drama  of  the  merging  of  Greece  in  the  dominion 
of  Rome  and  the  drama  of  the  overthrow  of  the  Roman 
Republic.    And  the  upshot  of  all  three  is  that  the  playwright  The  Moral  of 
insists  on  the  culture  of  the  individual  for  the  sake  of  the  *^.®  Parallel 
State.     The  political  teacher  behind  the  political  dramatist    ^^^* 
inculcates,  no  theory  of  politics  but,  an  attitude  towards  life. 
Good  is  the  child  of  custom  and  conflict,  not  the  reward  of 
individual  research ;  so  he  shows  you  life  as  one  battle  in 
which  the  armies  are  ordered  States.     Every  man,  therefore, 
must  needs  be  a  citizen,  and  every  citizen  a  soldier  in  the 
ranks.     For  this  service,  life  being  a  battle,  he  must  culti- 
vate  the   soldier's  virtues   of  courage   and    courtesy.     The 
word  is  North's,  and  smacks   something  more   of  chivalry 
than  Amyofs  humanite;   yet  both  may  be  taken  to  point 
Plutarch's  moral,  not  only  that  victory  is  impossible  without 
kindness  between  comrades,  and  intolerable  without  forbear- 
ance between  foes,  but  also,  that  in  every  age  of  man's  progress 
to  perfection  through  strife  these  qualities  must  be  developed 
to  a  larger  growth   measured  by  the  moral  needs  of  war 
between  nations  and  parties.      He  insists  again  and  again 
on  this  need  of  courtesy  in  a  world  wherein  all  men  are  in  Courtesy  in 
duty  bound  to  hold  opposite  opinions,  for  which  they  must  Victory 
in  honour  live  and  die.     For  this  his  Sertorius,  his  Lucullus, 
and  his  Mummius,  sketched  in  a  passing  allusion,  are  chiefly 
memorable ;  while  of  Caesar  he  writes  that  '  amongst  other 

*  honours '  his  enemies  gave  him  '  he  rightly  deserved  this, 
'  that  they  should  build  him  a  Temple  of  Clemency.'  Caesar, 
lighting  from  his  horse  to  embrace  Cicero,  the  arch-instigator 
of  the  opposition  he  had  overthrown,  and  walking  with  him 

*  a  great  way  a-foot ' ;  or  Demetrius,  who,  the  Athenians 
having  defaulted,  gathers  them  into  the  theatre,  and  then, 
when  they  expect  a  massacre,  forgives  them  in  a  speech — 
these  are  but  two  exemplars  of  a  style  which  Plutarch  ever 
praises.     And  if  his  standard  of  courtesy  in  victory  be  high, 

not  lower  is  his  standard  of  courage  in  defeat.    Demosthenes  and  Courage 
is  condemned  for  that  '  he  took  his  banishment  unmanly,'  i"  Defeat 
while  Phocion,  his  rival,  is  made  glorious  for  his  irony  in 

xxxix 


LIVES    OF   THE   NOBLE 

INTRO-  death :  paying,  when  the  stock  ran  out,  for  his  own  hemlock, 
DUCTION  '  sith  a  man  cannot  die  at  Athens  for  nothing.'  In  defeat 
Plutarch''s  heroes  sometimes  doubted  if  Hfe  were  worth  hving ; 
but  they  never  doubted  there  were  things  in  Hfe  worth  dying 
for.  Even  Demosthenes  is  redeemed  in  his  eyes  because,  at 
the  last,  '  sith  the  god  Neptune  denied  him  the  benefit  of 
'  his  sanctuary,  he  betook  him  to  a  greater,  and  that  was 
'  Death.''  So  often  does  Plutarch  applaud  the  act  of  suicide, 
and  so  scornfully  does  he  revile  those  who,  like  the  last  king 
of  Macedon,  forewent  their  opportunity,  that  we  might  easily 
misconceive  his  ethics.  But '  when  a  man  will  willingly  kill 
'  himself,  he  must  not  do  it  to  be  rid  of  pains  and  laboui', 
'  but  it  must  have  an  honourable  respect  and  action.  For, 
'  to  live  or  die  for  his  own  respect,  that  cannot  but  be  dis- 
'  honourable.  .  .  .  And  therefore  I  am  of  opinion  that  we 
'  should  not  yet  cast  off  the  hope  we  have  to  serve  our 
'  country  in  time  to  come ;  but  when  all  hope  faileth  us, 
*•  then  we  may  easily  make  ourselves  away  when  we  list.' 
Thus,  after  Selasia,  the  last  of  the  kings  of  Sparta,  who  re- 
called the  saying  of  Lycurgus  :  that,  with  '  great  personages 
'  .  .  .  the  end  of  their  life  should  be  no  more  idle  and  un- 
'  profitable  then  the  rest  of  their  life  before."  And  this  is 
the  pith  of  Plutarch's  political  matter :  that  men  may  not 
with  honour  live  unto  themselves,  but  must  rather  live  and 
die  m  respect  to  the  State. 


Moralist  or 
Painter .'' 


Plutarch's 
Art 


II 

Side  by  side,  and  in  equal  honour,  with  Plutarch  the 
dramatist  of  politics  there  should  stand,  I  think — not 
Plutarch  the  moralist  but — Plutarch  the  unrivalled  painter 
of  men.  Much  has  been  written,  and  rightly  written,  of  his 
perennial  influence  upon  human  character  and  human  con- 
duct ;  yet  outside  the  ethics  of  citizenship  he  insisted  on  little 
that  is  not  now  a  platitude.  The  interest  of  his  morals  springs 
from  their  likeness  to  our  own ;  the  wonder  of  his  portraitures 
must  ever  be  new  and  strange.  Indeed,  we  may  speak  of  his 
art  much  as  he  writes,  through  North,  of  the  '  stately  and 
'  sumptuous  buildings '  which  Pericles  '  gave  to  be  built  in 

xl 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

'  the  cittie  of  Athens.'  For  '  it  looketh  at  this  daye  as  if  it  INTRO- 
'  were  but  newly  done  and  finished,  there  is  such  a  certainc  DUCTION 
'  kynde  of  florishing  freshnes  in  it,  which  letteth  that  the 
'  injurie  of  time  cannot  impaire  the  sight  thereof:  as  if 
'  every  one  of  those  foresaid  workes  had  some  living  spirite 
'  in  it,  to  make  it  seeme  young  and  freshe :  and  a  soul  that 
'  lived  ever,  which  kept  them  in  good  continuing  state/ 
Yet  despite  this  'florishing  freshnes'  the  painter  has  been 
slighted  for  the  preacher,  and  for  this  preference  of  the  ethical 
before  the  aesthetic  element  in  the  Lives,  and  of  both  before 
their  political  quality,  Plutarch  has  mostly  himself  to  thank. 
Just  as  he  masks  a  political  framework  under  a  professed  His  Profes- 
devotion  to  the  study  of  individual  souls,  so,  when  he  comes  sion  not  Con- 
to  the  study  of  these  souls,  he  puts  you  off  by  declaring  v-^^^p*aSce 
a  moral  aim  in  language  that  may  easily  mislead.  '  When 
'  first  I  began  these  lives,'  he  writes  in  the  Paulus  jEmilius, 
'  my  intent  was  to  profit  other :  but  since,  continuing  and 
'  going  on,  I  have  much  profited  myself  by  looking  into  these 
'  histories,  as  if  I  looked  into  a  glasse,  to  frame  and  facion 
'  my  life,  to  the  moold  and  patterne  of  these  vertuous  noble 
'  men,  and  doe  as  it  were  lodge  them  with  me,  one  after 
'  another.'  And  again,  '  by  keeping  allwayes  in  minde  the 
'  acts  of  the  most  noble,  vertuous  and  best  geven  men  of  former 
*  age  ...  I  doe  teache  and  prepare  my  selfe  to  shake  of  and 
'  banishe  from  me,  all  lewde  and  dishonest  condition,  if  by 
'  chaunce  the  companie  and  conversation  of  them  whose  com- 
'  panic  I  keepe  .  .  .  doe  acquaint  me  with  some  unhapjne  or 
'  ungratious  touche.''  Now,  as  matter  of  fact,  he  does  not 
keep  always  in  mind  these,  and  these  only.  Doubtless  his 
aim  was  moral;  yet  assuredly  he  never  did  pursue  it  by 
denoting  none  save  the  virtuous  acts  of  the  '  most  noble, 
'  vertuous,  and  best  geven  men.'  On  the  contrary,  his  practice 
is  to  record  their  every  act  of  significance,  whether  good  or 
bad.  I  admit  that  he  does  this  ever  with  a  most  happy  and 
most  gracious  touch  ;  for  his  '  first  study '  is  to  write  a  good 
man's  '  vertues  at  large,'  and  if  '  certaine  faultes '  be  there, 
'  to  pass  them  over  lightly  0/  reverent  shame  to  the  mere 
'' frayclty  of  marl's  nature.''^  He  lays  the  ruin  of  his 
^  Preface  to  the  Cimon  and  Luaillus. 

f  xU 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

INTRO-  country  at  the  door  of  Aratus  alone;  but  'this,"*  he  adds, 
DUCTION  i  ^i^jj^  ^yg  have  written  of  Aratus  ...  is  not  so  much  to 
'  accuse  him  as  to  make  us  see  the  frayelty  and  weakness  of 
'  man's  nature :  the  which,  though  it  have  never  so  excellent 
'  vertues,  cannot  yet  bring  forth  such  perfit  frute,  but  that 
'  it  hath  ever  some  mayme  and  blemishe.'  ^  That  is  his  wont 
in  portraying  the  ill  deeds  of  the  virtuous ;  and,  for  their 
opposites,  '  as  I  hope,'  he  writes  in  the  preface  to  the  Deme- 
trius and  A  ntonius,  '  it  shall  not  be  reprehended  in  me  if 
'  amongst  the  rest  I  put  in  one  or  two  paier  of  suche,  as 
'  living  in  great  place  and  accompt,  have  increased  their  fame 
'  with  infamy.'  '  Phisicke,'  he  submits  in  defence  of  such  a 
choice,  '  dealeth  Avith  diseases,  musicke  with  discordes,  to 
'  thend  to  remove  them,  and  worke  their  contraries,  and  the 
'  great  Ladies  of  all  other  artes  (Amyot :  les  plus  parjaittes 
'  sciences  de  toutes\  Temperaunce,  Justice,  and  Wisdom,  doe 
'  not  onely  consider  honestie,  uprightness  and  profit :  but 
'  examine  withall,  the  nature  and  effects  of  lewdness,  corrup- 
'  tion  and  damage ' ;  for  '  innocencie,'  he  goes  on,  '  which 
'  vaunteth  her  want  of  experience  in  undue  practices :  men 
'  call  simplicitie  (Amyot :  uiie  bestise)  and  ignoraunce  of 
'  things  that  be  necessary  and  good  to  be  knowen.'  His, 
then,  is  a  moral  standpoint ;  and  yet  it  is  one  from  which  he  is 
impelled  to  study — (and  that  as  closely  as  the  keenest  apostle 
of  '  art  for  art ') — all  matters  having  truth  and  significance ; 
whether  they  be  evil  or  good.  For  the  sake  of  what  is  good, 
he  will  neither  distort  truth  nor  disfigure  beauty.  Rather,  by 
the  exercise  of  a  fine  selection,  he  will  create  a  harmony 
between  the  three ;  so  that,  embracing  everything  except  the 
trivial,  his  art  reflects  the  world  as  it  shows  in  the  sight 
of  sane  and  healthy-hearted  men. 

His  method  naturally  differs  from   the  method  of  some 

His  Canon  of  modern  historians ;  but  his  canon  of  evidence,  too  lax  for 

Evidence         their  purpose,  is  admirably  suited  to  his  own.     For  instance, 

in  telling  of  Solon's  meeting  with  Croesus,  he  will  not  reject 

so  famous  an  history  on  chronological  grounds :  because,  in 

the  first  place,  no  two  are  agreed  about  chronology,  and  in 

the  second,  the  story  is  '  very  agreeable  to  Solon's  manners 

*  Agis  and  Cleomenes. 

xlii 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

'  and  nature."*  That  is  his  chief  canon ;  and  though  the  INTRO- 
results  he  attains  by  it  are  in  no  wise  doubt-proof,  they  DUCTION 
yield  a  truer,  because  a  completer,  image  than  do  the  lean 
and  defective  outlines  determined  by  excluding  all  but  con- 
temporaiy  evidence.  These  outlines  belong  rather  to  the 
science  of  anthropometry  than  to  the  art  of  portraiture  ; 
and  Plutarch  the  painter  refuses  such  restraints.  His  ima- 
gination having  taken  the  imprint  of  his  hero,  he  will  sup- 
plement it  from  impressions  left  in  report  and  legend,  so 
long,  at  any  rate,  as  they  tally  with  his  own  ideal.  Nor  is 
there  better  cause  for  rejecting  such  impressions  than  there 
is  for  rejecting  the  fossils  of  primeval  reptiles  whose  carnal 
economy  has  perished.  Given  those  fossils  and  a  know- 
ledge of  morphology,  the  palaeontologist  will  refashion  the 
dragons  of  the  prime ;  and  in  the  same  way  Plutarch,  out 
of  tradition  and  his  knowledge  of  mankind,  paints  you  the  true 
Themistocles.  His,  indeed,  is  the  surer  warrant,  since  there 
have  been  no  such  changes  in  human  nature  as  science  shows 
in  animal  design  ;  so  that  the  method  is  safe  so  long  as 
a  nation's  legends  have  not  been  crushed  out  of  shape  by 
the  superincumbent  layers  of  a  conquering  race.  Moreover, 
Plutarch  makes  no  wanton  use  of  his  imagination  :  give  him 
contemporary  evidence,  and  he  abides  by  it,  rejecting  all 
besides.  In  his  account  of  Alexander's  death,  having  the 
court  journal  before  him,  he  repudiates  later  embellishments  : 
'  for  all  these  were  thought  to  be  written  by  some,  for  lyes 
'  and  fables,  because  they  would  have  made  the  ende  of  this 
'  great  tragedie  lamentable  and  pitifull.'' 

His  results  are,  of  course,  unequal.  He  cannot  always  His  Results 
revive  the  past,  nor  quicken  the  dead  anew.  Who  can  ? 
His  gallery  includes  some  pieces  done  on  a  faded  conven- 
tion, faint  in  colour  and  angular  in  line,  mere  pretexts  for 
a  parade  of  legendary  names  :  with  certain  sketches,  as  those 
of  Cimon  and  Aristides,  which  are  hack-work  turned  out 
to  complete  a  pair.  But  first  and  last  there  stand  out  six 
or  seven  realisations  of  living  men,  set  in  an  atmosphere, 
charged  with  a  vivid  intensity  of  expression,  and  striking  you 
in  much  the  same  way  as  the  sight  of  a  few  people  scattered 
through  a  big  room  strikes  you  when  you  enter  unawares. 

xliii 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

INTRO-     And  when  you  have  done  staring  at  these,  you  will  note  a 
DUCTION   half-dozen  more  which  are  scarce  less  vigorously  detached. 
The  Plutarch''s  first  masterpiece  is  the  Themistodes,  and  there 

Themistocles  jg  never  a  touch  in  it  but  tells.  Even  as  you  watch  him 
at  work,  you  are  conscious,  leaping  out  from  beneath  his 
hand,  of  the  ambitious  boy,  '  sodainely  taken  with  desire 
'  of  glorie,'  who,  from  his  first  entry  into  public  life,  '  stoode 
'  at  pyke  with  the  greatest  and  mightiest  personnes/  But 
you  soon  forget  the  artist  in  his  creation.  You  have  eyes 
for  nothing  but  Themistocles  himself:  now  walking  with 
his  father  by  the  seashore;  now,  after  Marathon,  'a  very 
'  young  man  many  times  solitary  alone  devising  with  him- 
'  self — in  this  way  passing  his  boyhood,  for  ^  Miltiades 
'  victory  would  not  let  Mm  sleep.''  Then  the  ambitious  boy 
'  develops  into  the  political  artist ;  rivals  Aristides,  as  Fox 

rivalled  Pitt ;  and  is  found  loving  his  art  for  its  own  sake, 
above  his  country,  above  his  ambition  even,  wrapt  as  he  is, 
through  good  fortune  and  ill,  in  the  expert's  delight  in 
his  own  accomplishment.  Knowing  what  all  men  should 
do,  and  swaying  every  several  man  to  do  it,  he  controls 
both  individuals  and  nations  with  the  inspired  prescience 
of  a  master  conducting  his  own  symphony.  He  has  all  the 
devices  at  his  fingers''  ends.  In  the  streets  he  will '  speake 
'  to  every  citizen  by  his  name,  no  man  telling  him  their 
'  names'" :,  and  in  the  council  he  will  manage  even  Eury- 
biades,  with  that  '  Strike  an  thou  wilt,  so  thou  wilt  heare 
'  me,"*  which  has  been  one  of  the  world's  words  since  its 
utterance.  Now  with  '  pleasaunt  conceits  and  answers,'  now — 
with  a  large  poetic  appeal — '  pointing ""  his  countrymen  '  the 
'  waye  unto  the  sea ' ;  this  day,  deceiving  his  friends,  the 
next  overawing  his  enemies  ;  with  effi-ontery  or  chicane,  with 
good-fellowship  or  reserve ;  but  ever  with  infinite  dexterity, 
a  courage  that  never  falters,  and  a  patience  that  never 
wearies  :  he  keeps  the  shuttle  of  his  thought  quick-flying 
through  the  web  of  intrigue.  And  all  for  the  fun  of 
weaving !  Till,  at  the  last,  a  banished  man,  being  com- 
manded by  his  Persian  master  to  fight  against  Greece,  '  he 
'  tooke  a  wise  resolution  with  himselfe,  to  make  suche  an 
'  ende  of  his  life,  as  the  fame  thereof  deserved.'  After 
xliv 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

sacrificing  to  the  gods,  and  feasting  his  friends,  he  drank      INTRjO- 

poison,  'and  so  ended  his  dayes  in  the  cittie  of  Magnesia,    DUCTION 

'  after   he   had    lived    threescore   and    five   yeres,   and   the 

'  most  parte  of  them  allwayes  in  office  and  great  charge.' 

Plutarch  produces  this  notable  piece,  not  by  comment  and 

analysis  but,  simply  by  setting  down  his  sitter's  acts  and 

words.     It  is  in  the  same  way  that  he  paints  his  Alcibiades,  The 

with  his  beauty  and  his  lisp:   'the  grace  of  his  eloquence,  -4/c?6jarfe* 

'  the  strength  and   valiantness  of  his  bodie   ...  his  wis- 

'  dom   and   experience   in   marshall    aft'ayres ' ;    and   again, 

\vith  his  insolence   and  criminal    folly  to  the  women   who 

loved  him   as   to   the   nations   he   betrayed.       He   fought, 

like  the  Cid,  now  for  and  now  against  his  own.     But  'he 

'  had  such  pleasaunt  comely  devises  with  him  that  no  man 

'  was  of  so  sullen  a  nature,  but  he  left  him  merrie,  nor  so 

'  churlishe,  but  he  would  make  him  gentle.""     And  when  he 

died,  they  felt  that  their  country  died  with  him ;  for  they 

'  had  some  little  poore  hope  left  that  they  were  not  altogether 

'  cast  away  so  long  as  Alcibiades  lived.' 

In  the  first  rank  of  Plutarch's  masterpieces  come,  with 
these  two,  the  Mar  ins,  the  Cato,  the  Alexander,  the  Deme- 
trius, the  Antonius,  and  the  Pompey.  Modern  writers  have 
again  and  again  repainted  some  of  these  portraits  ;  but  their 
colour  has  all  been  borrowed  from  Plutarch.  These  heroes 
live  for  all  time  in  the  Parallel  Lives.  There  you  shall  learn 
the  fashion  of  their  faces,  and  the  tricks  of  their  speech ;  their 
seat  on  horseback  and  the  cut  of  their  clothes ;  with  every 
tone  and  every  gesture,  all  the  charms  and  all  the  foibles  that 
made  them  the  men  they  were.  Marcus  Cato  is  what  we  call  The  Marcus 
a '  character.'  He  hated  doctors  and,  no  doubt,  schoolmasters;  ^"'<> 
for  did  he  not  educate  his  own  son,  writing  for  him  '  goodly 
'  histories,  in  great  letters  with  Ms  oune  hande '  ?  He  taught 
the  boy  grammar  and  law,  '  to  throw  a  dart,  to  play  at  the 
'  sword,  to  vawt,  to  ride  a  horse,  and  to  handle  all  sortes  of 
'  weapons,  ...  to  fight  with  fistes,  to  abide  colde  and 
'  heate,  and  to  swimme  over  a  swift  runninge  river.'  A 
'  new  man '  from  a  little  village,  his  ideal  was  Manius 
Curius  sitting  'by  the  fyer's  side  seething  of  perseneapes,' 
and  he  tried  to  educate  everybody  on  the  same  lines.     Being 

xlv 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 


INTRO- 
DUCTION 


The 

Alexander 
Magnus 


Censor,  he  would  proceed  by  way  of  imprisonment ;  but  at 
all  times  he  was  ready  to  instruct  with  apothegms  and  '  wise 
'  sayings,""  and  '  he  would  taunte  a  marvelous  fatte  man ' 
thus  :  '  See,  sayd  he,  what  good  can  such  a  body  do  to  the 
'  commonwealth,  that  from  his  chine  to  his  coddepece  is 
'  nothing  but  belly  ? '  This  is  but  one  of  many  '  wise  sayings ' 
reported  of  him,  whereby  '  we  may  the  easilier  conjecture  his 
'  maners  and  nature.'  ^  Even  the  Alexander  seems  a  new  thing 
still ;  so  clear  is  the  colouring,  so  vigorous  and  expressive  the 
pose.  '  Naturally,""  you  read,  '  he  had  a  very  fayre  white 
'  colour,  mingled  also  with  red,""  and  '  his  body  had  so  sweete 
'  a  smell  of  itself,  that  all  the  apparell  he  wore  next  unto  his 
'  body  took  thereof  a  passing  delightful  savor,  as  if  it  had 
'  been  perfumed.""  This  was  his  idea  of  a  holiday :  '  After 
'  he  was  up  in  the  morning,  first  of  all  he  would  doe  sacrifice 
'  to  the  goddes,  and  then  would  goe  to  diner,  passing  awaie 
'  all  the  rest  of  the  daye,  in  hunting,  writing  something, 
'  taking  up  some  quan'ell  between  soldiers,  or  els  in  studying. 
'  If  he  went  any  journey  of  no  hastie  busines,  he  would 
'  exercise  himselfe  by  the  waie  as  he  went,  shooting  in  his 
'  bowe,  or  learning  to  get  up  or  out  of  his  chaiTet  sodenly, 
'  as  it  ranne.  Oftentimes  also  for  his  pastime  he  would  hvmt 
'  the  foxe,  or  ketch  birdes,  as  appeareth  in  his  booke  of 
'  remembrances  for  everie  daie.  Then  when  he  came  to  his 
'  lodging,  he  would  enter  into  his  bath  and  rubbe  and  nointe 
'  himselfe :  and  would  aske  his  pantelers  and  carvers  if  his 
'  supper  were  ready.  He  would  ever  suppe  late,  and  was 
'  very  curious  to  see,  that  every  man  at  his  bourde  were  a 
'  like  served,  and  would  sit  longe  at  the  table,  bycause  he 
'  ever  loved  to  talke.""  But  take  him  at  his  work  of  leading 
others  to  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth.  Being  parched 
with  thirst,  in  the  desert,  '  he  tooke  the  helmet  with  water, 
'  and  perceiving  that  the  men  of  amies  that  were  about  him, 
'  and  had  followed  him,  did  thrust  out  their  neckes  to  look 
'  upon  this  water,  he  gave  the  water  back  againe  unto  them 
'  that  had  geven  it  him,  and  thanked  them  but  drank  none 
'  of  it.     For,  said  he,  if'  I  drink  alone  all  tliese  men  here  will 

^  Plutarch's  Cato  is  accepted  bodily  by  Mommsen  for  a  typical  '  Roman 
'  burgess.'     History  of  Rome,  vol.  ii.  pp.  429-432. 
xlvi 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

^Jhint.''     What  a  touch  !      And  what  wonder  if  his  men      INTRO- 
'  beganne   to    spurre    their   horses,   saying  that   they  were    DUCTION 

*  not  wearie  nor  athirst,  nor  did  think  tliernselves  mortally 

*  so  long  as  they  had  such  a  king '' !  There  is  more  of  self- 
restraint  in  Pkitarch's  portrait  than  appears  in  later  copies. 
Alexander  passes  by  the  ladies  of  Persia  '  without  any  sparke 

*  of  affection    towardes  them    .    .    .    preferring  the   beautie 

*  of  his  continencie,  before  their  swete  faire  faces/  But  he 
was  ever  lavish   of  valour,   loving  '  his  honour  more  then 

*  his  kingdome  or  his  life ' ;  and  it  is  with  a  '  marvelous  faier 

*  white  plume '  in  his  helmet  that  he  plunges  first  into  the 
river  at  Granicus,  and  single-handed  engages  the  army  on 
the  further  bank.  Centuries  later  at  Ivry,  Henri-Quatre, 
who  learned  Plutarch  at  his  mother's  knee,  forgot  neither 
the  feather  nor  the  act.  But  the  dead  Alexander  never 
lacked  understudies.  All  the  kings,  his  successors,  '  did  but 
'  counterfeate '  him  '  in  his  purple  garments,  and  in  numbers 
'  of  souldiers  and  gardes  about  their  persones,  and  in  a  certaine 

*  facion  and  bowing  of  their  neckes  a  little,  and  in  uttering 

'  his  speech  with  a  high  voyce."'  One  of  them  is  Demetrius,  The 
'  the  Fort-gainer,"  with  '  his  wit  and  manners  .  .  .  that  were  Demetrius 
'  both  fearefull  and  pleasaunt  unto  men  that  frequented  him*"; 
his  '  sweete  countenance  .  .  .  and  incomparable  majestic '; 
'  more  wantonly  geven  to  follow  any  lust  and  pleasure  than 
'  any  king  that  ever  was ;  yet  alwayes  very  careful  and 
'  diligent  in  dispatching  matters  of  importance.''  A  leader 
of  forlorn  hopes  and  lewd  masquerades,  juggling  with  king- 
doms as  a  mountebank  with  knives  ;  the  lover  of  innumer- 
able queens  and  the  taker  of  a  thousand  towns ;  in  his 
defeat,  'not  like  unto  a  king,  but  like  a  common  player 
'  when  the  play  is  done ' ;  drinking  himself  to  death  for  that 
he  found  '  it  was  that  maner  of  life  he  had  long  desired "" 
— this  Poliorcetes,  I  say,  has  furnished  Plutarch  with  the 
matter  for  yet  another  masterpiece,  which  indeed  is  one 
of  the  greater  feats  in  romantic  realism. 

Of  the  Antonius  with  his  '  Asiatic  phrase,"  it  is  enough 
to  say  that  it  is  Shakespeare's  Antony ;  and  at  the  Pompey 
I  have  already  glanced.     The  Coesar  is  only  less  wonderful  The  Ctesar 
than  these  because  the  man  is   lost  in  the  leader.     Julius 

xlvii 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 


INTRO-  travels  so  fast,  that  you  catch  but  ghmpses  as  he  races  in 
DUCTION  liis  litter  through  the  night;  ever  dictating  to  his  secre- 
taries, and  writing  by  the  way.  But  now  and  again  you 
see  him  plainly — 'leane,  white  and  soft-skinned,  and  often 
'subject  to  head-ache'';  filling  his  soldiers  with  awe,  not 
'  at  his  valiantnesse  at  putting  himself  at  every  instant  in 
'  such  manifest  danger,  since  they  knew  'twas  his  greedy 
'  desire  of  honor  that  set  him  a  fire'  .  .  .  but  because  he 
'  continued  all  labour  and  hardnesse  more  than  his  bodie 
'  could  beare/  A  strange  ruler  of  the  world,  this  epileptic, 
'  fighting  always  with  his  disease ' !  He  amazes  friends  and 
enemies  by  the  swiftness  of  his  movements,  while  Pompey 
journeys  as  in  state  from  land  to  land".  Pompey  was  of 
plebeian  extraction,  Julius  was  born  into  one  of  the  sixteen 
surviving  patrician  gentes  ;  yet  Julius  burns  with  the  blast- 
ing heat  of  a  new  man's  endeavour,  Pompey  as  with  the 
banked  fires  of  hereditary  self-esteem.  And  through  all  the 
commotion  and  the  coil  he  is  still  mindful  of  the  day  of  his 
youth  '  when  he  had  been  acquainted  with  Servilia,  who  was 
'  extreamilie  in  love  with  him.  And  because  Brutus  was 
'  boorne  in  that  time  when  their  love  was  hottest  he  per- 
'  suaded  himself  that  he  begat  him.'^  What  of  anguish  does 
this  not  add  to  the  sweep  of  the  gesture  wherewith  the  hero 
covered  his  face  from  the  pedant's  sword  !  With  the  Cassar 
The  Sulla  may  stand  the  Marius,  and  the  Sylla  :  Sulla  the  lucky  man, 
filix^  Epaphroditus,  beloved  of  all  women  and  the  victor  in 
every  fight,  who  '  when  he  was  in  his  chiefest  authoritie  would 
'  commonly  eate  and  drinke  with  the  most  impudent  j  casters 
'  and  scoffers,  and  all  such  rake  helles,  as  made  profession 
'  of  counterfeate  mirth.'  He  laughed  his  way  to  complete 
political  success;  he  was  fortunate  even  in  the  weather  for  his 
funeral ;  and,  as  he  epitaphed  himself, '  no  man  did  ever  passe 
'  him,  neither  in  doing  good  to  his  friends,  nor  in  doing  mis- 
The  Lucullus  '  chief  to  his  enemies.'  Plutarch's  Lucullus,  being  young  and 
ambitious,  marches  further  into  the  unknown  East  than  any 
Roman  had  ventured.  He  fords  the  river  on  foot  with  the 
countless  hosts  of  Tigranes  on  the  farther  shore, '  himselfe  the 
'  foremost  man,'  and  marches  '  directly  towardes  his  enemy, 

^  Brutus. 

xlviii 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

'armed  with  an   "anima"  of  Steele,   made  with  scalloppe      INTRO- 
'  shelles,  shining  like   the  sunne/      He  urges  on  through    DUCTION 
summer  and  winter,  till  the  rivers  are  '  congealed  with  ice,"" 
so  that  no  man  can  '  passe  over  by  forde  :  for  they  did  no 
'  sooner  enter  but  the  ise  brake  and  cut   the  vaines  and 

*  sinews  of  the  horse  legges.'  His  men  murmur,  but  he 
presses  on  :  till  '  the  country  being  full  of  trees,  woddes 
'  and  forestes,"*  they  are  '  through  wet  with  the  snow  that 
'  fell  upon  them,"*  and  at  last  they  mutiny  and  flatly  refuse 
to  take  another  step  into  the  unknown.  This  is  a  Lucullus 
we  forget.  Plutarch  gives  the  other  one  as  well,  and  the  two 
together  make  for  him  '  an  auncient  comedy ,"*  the  beginning 
whereof  is  tedious,  but  the  latter  end — with  its  '  feasts  and 
'  bankets,""  '  masks  and  mummeries,'  and  '  dauncing  with 
'  torches,"*  its  '  fine  built  chambers  and  high  raised  turrets 
'  to  gaze  a  farre,  environed  about  with  conduits  of  water  "* ; 
its  superlative  cook,  too,  and  its  '  library  ever  open  to  all 
'  comers'* — is  a  matter  to  rejoice  the  heart  of  man.  Crassus 
and  Cicero  complete  his  group  of  second-bests :  Cicero 
'  dogge  ieane,"*  and  '  a  little  eater,**  '  so  earnest  and  vehement 
'  in  his  oration  that  he  mounted  still  with  his  voyce  into  the 
'  highest  tunes  :   insomuch  that  men  were  affrayed  it  would 

'  one  day  put  him  in  hazard  of  his  life.'    Here  I  may  pause  to  Oratory 
note  that  Plutarch's  references  to  public  speaking  are  all  ob- 
served.   He  writes  from  experience,  and  you  might  compile  a 
manual  of  the  art  from  him.     Well  did  he  know  the  danger 
of  fluent  earnestness.     His  Caius  Gracchus  '  had  a  servant 

*  .  ,  .  who,  with  an  instrument  of  musicke  he  had  .  .  .  ever 
'  stoode  behind  him  ;  and  when  he  perceived  his  Maistcr"'s 
'  voyce  was  a  little  too  lowde,  and  that  through  choller  he 
'  exceeded  his  ordinary  speache,  he  played  a  soft  stoppe  be- 
'  hind  him,  at  the  sonde  whereof  Caius  immediately  fell  from 
'  his  extreamitie  and  easilie  came  to  himself  againe."*  Thus, 
too,  his  Demosthenes  and  Cicero  sets  forth  full  instructions 
for  removing  every  other  blemish  of  delivery.^ 

The  painter   of  incident   is   scarce  less   great   than    the  The  Painter 
painter  of  men.     Plutarch''s  picture  of  Cicero  is  completed  of  Incident 
by  a  presentment  of  his  death,  in  which  the  artist'*s  imagi- 
^  See  also  his  account  of  the  several  manners  of  Cleon  and  Pericles. 

g  xlix 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 


INTRO- 
DUCTION 

and  his 
Devices 


nation  rises  to  its  full  height.     Hunted  down  by  Antony's 
swordcrs,  the  orator  is  overtaken  at   night  in  a  by-lane ; 


Baclcgrounds 


Restraint 


Instancy 


Peculiar 
Alaaric 


he  stretches  out  his  head  from  the  litter  to  look  his 
murderers  in  the  face ;  and  '  his  head  and  his  beard 
'  being  all  white,  and  his  face  leane  and  wrinckled,  for 
'  the  extreame  sorrowes  he  had  taken,  divers  of  them  that 
'  were  by  held  their  handes  before  their  eyes,  whilest  Heren- 

*  nius  did  cruelly  murder  him."*  Then  the  head  was  set  up 
by  Antony  '  over  the  pulpit  for  orations,**  and  '  this  was  a 
'  fearefull  and  horrible  sight  unto  the  Romanes,  who  thought 
'  they  saw  not  Ciceroes  face,  hut  an  image  of  Antonius  life 

*  and  dispositions ""  (Amyot :  une  image  de  Vame  et  de  la 
nature  d' Antonius).  This  gift,  at  times  almost  appalling,  of 
imaginative  presentment,  is  the  distinctive  note  of  Plutarch''s 
art.  He  uses  it  freely  in  his  backgrounds,  which  are  ani- 
mated as  are  those  in  certain  pictures  of  a  bygone  mode ;  so 
that  behind  his  heroes  armies  engage,  fleets  are  sunk,  towns 
are  sacked,  and  citadels  escaladed.  Sometimes  his  effect  is 
produced  by  a  rare  restraint.  In  the  Alcibiades,  for  instance, 
he  tells  how  the  Sicilian  expedition  was  mooted  which  was  to 
ruin  both  the  hero  and  his  country ;  and,  as  Carlyle  might 
have  done,  at  the  corner  of  every  street  he  shows  you  the 
groups  of  young  men  bragging  of  victory,  and  drawing  plans 
of  Syracuse  in  the  dust.  Sometimes  the  touch  of  terror  is 
more  immediate.  Take  his  description  of  the  Teutons  fi;om 
the  Marius.  Their  voices  were  'wonderful  both  straunge 
'  and  beastly  ' ;  so  Marius  kept  his  men  close  till  they  should 
grow  accustomed  to  such  dreadful  foes.  Meanwhile  the 
Teutons  '  were  passing  by  his  campe  six  dayes  continually 

*  together  ** :  '  they  came  raking  by,'  and  '  marching  all  to- 
'  gether  in  good  array  ;  making  a  noyse  with  their  harness 
'  all  after  one  sorte,  they  oft  rehearsed  their  own  name, 
^  Ambrons,  Ambrons,  Ambrons'' ;  and  the  Romans  watched 
them,  listening  to  the  monotonous,  unhuman  call.  Here 
and  elsewhere  Plutarch  conveys,  with  a  peculiar  magic,  the 
sense  of  great  bodies  of  men  and  of  the  movements  thereof. 
Now  and  then  he  secures  his  end  by  reporting  a  word  or 
two  from  those  that  are  spying  upon  others  from  afar. 
This  is  how  he  gives  the  space  and  silence  that  precede  a 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

battle.     Tigranes,  with  his  innumerable  host,  is  watching      INTRO- 
Lucullus  and  the  Romans,  far  away  on  the  farther  shore    DUCT  I  ON 
of  the   river.       '  They  seemed    but   a   handful,"*   and    kept 
'  following   the   streame   to    meete  with    some   forde.    .   .  . 
'  Tigranes    thought   they    had    marched    away,    and    called  Tigranes  and 
'  for  Taxiles,  and  sayd   unto   him,   laughing :   "  Dost  thou  LucuUus 
'  "  see,  Taxiles,  those  goodly  Roman   legyons,  whom  thou 
'  "  praisest  to  be  men  so  invincible,  how  they  flie  away  now  ? ''"' 
'  Taxiles  answered  the  king  againe :   "  I  would  your  good 
'  "  fortune  (O  king)  might  work  some  miracle  this  day  :  for 
'  "  doubtless  it  were  a  straunge    thing    that   the  Romanes 
'  "  should  flie.     They  are  not  wont  to  wear  their  brave  cotes 
'  "  and  furnitm-e  uppon  their  armour,  when  they  meane  onely 
'  "  but  to  marche  in  the  fieldes :  neither  do  they  carie  their 
'  "  shieldes   and  targets  vmcased,  nor  their  burganets  bare 
'  "  on  their  heades,  as  they  do  at  this  present,  having  throwen 
'  "  away  their   leather   cases   and    coveringes.      But  out  of 
'  "  douiit,  this  goodly  furniture  we  see  so  bright  and  giitter- 
'  "  i7ig  in  our  Jhces,  is  a  manifest  sign  that  they  intend  to 
'  "  fight,  and  that  they  marche  towardes  us."      Taxiles  had 
'  no  sooner  spoken  these  loorcles,  but  Liicidhis^  in  tlie  vieio 
'  of  his  enernies,  made  his  ensign  bearer  to  turne  sodainely 
'  that   carried  the  Jirst   Eagle,  and   the  bands   tooke   their 
'  places  to  passe  the  river  in  order  of  battell.''     The  propor- 
tion of  the  two  armies,  and  the  space  between  ;   the  sun 
flashing  on  the  distant  shields  ;  the  long  suspense ;  the  king's 
laugh   breaking   the   silence,   which   yet   gi'ows  tenser,  till 
suddenly  the  Romans  wheel  into  line  :  in  truth,  they  have 
been  few  between  Plutarch  and  Tolstoi  to  give  the  scale 
and  perspective  of  battles   by  observing    such   proportion 
in  their  art !      Here  LucuUus  and  a  handful  of  Romans, 
like  Clive  and  his  Englishmen,  overthrew  a  nation  in  arms ; 
elsewhere    Plutarch   gives   the    other    chance,   and   renders 
with    touches    equally   subtle    and    direct    the    deepening 
nightmare  of  Crassus'  march  into  the  desert.     He  tells  of  Crassus  in 
the  Parthian    'kettle  di'ommes,  hollow  within,""   and    hung  Parthia 
about  with  '  little  bells  and  copper  rings,"*  with  which  '  they 
'  all  made  a  noise  everywhere  together,  and  it  is  like  a  dead 
'  sounde.'     Does  it  not  recall  the  Aztec  war-drums  on  the 

li 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

INTRO-  Noche  Triste  ?  Intent,  too,  on  creating  his  impression  of 
DUCT  I  ON  terror,  this  rare  artist  proceeds  from  the  sense  of  hearing  to 
the  sense  of  sight.  '  The  Romanes  being  put  in  feare  with  this 
'  dead  sounde,  the  Parthians  straight  threw  the  clothes  and 
'  coverings  from  them  that  hid  their  armour,  and  then 
'  showed  their  bright  helmets  and  cui'aces  of  Margian 
'  tempered  steele,  that  glared  like  fire ;  and  their  horses 
'  barbed  with  steele  and  copper.'  They  canter  round  and 
round  the  wretched  enemy,  shooting  their  shafts  as  they 
go  ;  and  the  ammunition  never  fails,  for  camels  come  up 
'  loden  with  quivers  full  of  arrowes.'  The  Romans  are  shot 
through  one  by  one  ;  and  when  Crassus  '  prayed  and  be- 
'  sought  them  to  charge  .  .  .  they  showed  him  their  handes 
'  fast  nailed  to  their  targets  with  arrowes,  and  their  feete 
'  likewise  shot  thorow  and  nailed  to  the  ground :  so  as  they 
'  could  neither  flie,  nor  yet  defende  themselves.'  Thus  they 
died,  one  before  the  other,  '  a  cruell  lingring  death,  crying 
'  out  for  anguish  and  paine  they  felt ' ;  and  '  turning  and 
'  tormenting  themselves  upon  the  sande,  they  broke  the 
'  arrowes  sticking  in  them."*  The  realism  of  it !  And  the 
pathos  of  Crassus'  speech,  when  his  son's  head  is  shown  to  him, 
which  '  killed  the  Romanes  hartes ' !  '  The  grief  and  sorrow 
'  of  this  losse  (my  fellowes),'  said  he,  '  is  no  man's  but  mine, 
'  mine  only  ;  but  the  noble  successe  and  honor  of  Rome 
'  remaineth  still  invincible,  so  long  as  you  are  yet  living.' 
After  these  two  pictures  of  confidence  and  defeat  I  should 
After  Pydna  like  to  give  that  one  of  the  Romans  after  Pydna,  where 
Paulus  ^milius  was  thought  to  have  lost  his  son.  It  is  a 
wonderful  resurrection  of  departed  life.  There  are  the  groups 
round  the  camp-fires ;  the  sudden  clustering  of  torches 
towards  the  one  dark  and  silent  tent ;  and  then  the  busy 
lights  crossing  and  recrossing,  and  scattering  over  the  field. 
You  hear  first  the  droning  songs  of  the  tired  and  happy 
soldiers  ;  then  silence ;  then  cries  of  anxiety  and  mournful 
echoes ;  then,  of  a  sudden,  comes  the  reappearance,  '  all 
'  bloudied  with  new  bloude  like  the  swift-running  grey 
'  hound  fleshed  with  the  bloude  of  the  hare,'  of  him,  the 
missing  youth,  '  that  Scipio  which  afterwards  destroyed 
*  both  the  citties  of  Carthage  and  Numantium.' 
hi 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

It  is  hard  to  analyse  the  art,  for  the  means  employed  are  INTRO- 
of  the  simplest ;  yet  it  is  certain  that  they  do  recall  to  such  DUCTION 
as  have  known,  and  that  they  must  suggest  to  others  who 
have  not,  those  sights  and  sounds  and  sensations  which 
combine  into  a  special  enchantment  about  the  time  of  the 
fall  of  darkness  upon  bodies  of  men  who  have  drunk  excite- 
ment and  borne  toil  together  in  the  day.  How  intense, 
too,  the  flash  of  imagination  with  which  the  coming  Afri- 
canus  is  projected  on  the  canvas !  And  the  book  abounds 
in  such  lightning  impressions.  Thus,  Hannibal  cracks  a 
soldier"'s  joke  before  Cannae  ;  he  pitches  the  quip  into  his  Hannibal's 
host,  like  a  pebble  into  the  pond ;  and  the  broken  still-  "^^^^ 
ness  ripples  away  down  all  the  ranks  in  widening  rings  of 
laughter.^  Sometimes  the  sketch  is  even  slighter,  and  is 
yet  convincing :  as  when  the  elder  Scipio,  being  attacked 
by  Cato  for  his  extravagant  administration,  declares  his 
'  intent  to  go  to  the  wars  with  full  sayles.''  These  are  not 
chance  effects  but  masterstrokes  of  imagination ;  yet  that 
imagination,  vivid  and  vivifying  as  it  is,  never  leads  Plu- 
tarch to  attempt  the  impossible.  He  remains  the  supreme 
artist,  and  is  content  with  suggesting — what  is  incapable 
of  representation — that  sense  of  the  portentous,  the  over- 
powering, which  is  apparent  immediately  before,  or  im- 
mediately behind,  some  notable  conjunction.  Alexander  Alexander  at 
sounds  the  charge  which  is  to  change  the  fortunes  of  the  Arbela 
world,  and  Arbela  is  rendered  in  a  few  lines.  But  up 
till  the  instant  of  his  sounding  it,  you  are  told  of  his  every 
act.  Plutarch,  proceeding  as  leisurely  as  his  hero,  creates 
suspense  out  of  delay.  You  are  told  that  Alexander  slept 
soundly  far  into  the  morning,  and  that  he  was  called  three 
times.  You  are  told  how  carefully  he  dressed,  and  of 
each  article  of  armour  and  apparel  he  put  on  :  his  '  Sicilian 
'  cassocke,"*  his  '  brigandine  of  many  foldes  of  canvas,'  '  his 
*  head  peece  bright  as  silver,'  and  '  his  coller  sute  like  to 
'  the  same  all  set  full  of  precious  stones.""  The  battle  has 
begun  between  the  outposts,  and  he  is  still  riding  down 
the  lines  on  a  hack :  '  to  spare  Bucephal,  because  he  was 
'  then  somewhat  olde.'  He  mounted  the  great  horse  '  always 
^  Fabius  Maxinius. 

liii 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 


INTRO- 
DUCTION 


Suspense  out 
of  Delay 


After  the 
Rubicon 


Leuctra 


'  at  the  last  moment ;  and  as  soone  as  he  was  gotten  up  on 
'  his  backe,  the  trumpet  sounded,  and  he  gave  charge.'  To- 
day it  is  made  to  seem  as  if  that  moment  would  never  come ; 
but  at  the  last  all  things  being  ready,  '  he  tooke  his  launce 
'  in  his  left  hande  and,  holding  up  his  right  hande  unto 
'  heaven,  besought  the  goddes  .  .  .  that  if  it  were  true,  he 
'  was  begotten  of  Jupiter,  it  would  please  them  that  day 
'  to  helpe  him  and  to  incorage  the  Graecians.  The  sooth- 
'  sayer   Aristander  was   then   a-horsebacke   hard  by  Alex- 

*  ander  apparelled  all  in  white,  and  a  croune  of  gold  on 
'  his  head,  who  shewed  Alexander  when  he  made  his 
'  prayer,  an  Eagle  flying  over  his  head,  and  pointing 
'  directly  towards  his  enemies.  This  marvellously  en- 
'  couraged  all   the  armie   that   saw  it,  and  with  this  joy, 

*  the  men   of  armes  of  Alexander's  side,  encouraging   one 

*  another,  did  set  spurres  to  their  horse  to  charge  upon  the 
'  enemies.'  Until  the  heroic  instant  you  are  compelled  to 
note  the  hero's  every  deliberate  movement.  He  and  the 
little  group  of  gleaming  figures  about  him  are  the  merest 
specks  in  the  plain  before  the  Macedonian  army,  itself  but 
a  handful  in  comparison  to  the  embattled  nations  in  front. 
The  art  is  perfect  in  these  flash-pictures  of  great  moments 
in  time :  in  the  Athenians  map-drawing  in  the  dust,  in 
the  Romans  watching  the  Ambrons  raking  by,  in  Tigranes' 
laugh,  in  Hannibal's  joke,  in  Alexander's  supreme  gesture ; 
and  how  instant  in  each  the  imaginative  suggestion  of  drag- 
ging hours  before  rapid  and  irreparable  events !  Equally 
potent  are  the  effects  which  Plutarch  contrives  by  revealing 
all  the  consequences  of  a  disaster  in  some  swift,  far-reach- 
ing glimpse.  Thus,  when  Caesar  crossed  the  Rubicon, 
'  Rome  itself  was  filled  up  with  the  flowing  repaire  of  all 
'  the  people  who  came  thither  like  droves  of  cattell.''  And 
thus  does  Sparta  receive  the  news  of  her  annihilation  : — '  At 
'  that  time  there  was  by  chance  a  common  feast  day  in  the 
'  citie  .  .  .  when  as  the  messenger  arrived  that  brought  the 

*  news  of  the  battell  lost  at  Leuctres.  The  Ephori  knowing 
'  then  that  the  rumor  ranne  all  about ;  that  they  were  all 

*  undone,  and  how  they  had  lost  the  signorie  and  com- 
'  maundement  over  all  Grece :    would  not  suffer  them  for 

liv 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

'  all  this  to  breake  off  tiieir  daunce  in  the  Theater,  nor  the      INTRO- 

'  citie  in  anything  to  chaunge  the  forme  of  their  feast,  but   DUCTION 

*  sent  unto  the  parentes  to  everie  man"'s  house,  to  let  them 

'  understande  the  names  of  them  that  were  slaine  at  the 

'  battell,  they  themselves  remaining  still  in  the  Theater  to 

'  see    the    daunces   and   sportes   continued,    to  judge    who 

'  carried  the  best  games  away.      The  next  morning  when 

'  everie  man  knew  the  number  of  them  that  were  slaine,  and 

'  of  those  also  that  escaped :   the  parentes  and  frendes  of 

'  them  that  were  dead,  met  in  the  market  place,  looking 

'  cheerfully   of    the    matter,   and    one   of    them    embraced 

'  another.      On   thother   side   the   parentes   of   them    that 

'  scaped,  kept  their  houses  with  their  wives,  as  folk  that 

'  mourned.   .   .   .   The   mothers   of   them,    that    kept   their 

'  sonnes  which  came  from  the  battell,  were  sad  and  sorrow- 

'  full,  and  spake  not  a  word.     Contrairily,  the  mothers  of 

'  them  that  were  slaine,  wcmt  friendly  to  visite  one  another, 

'  to  rejoyce  together.''  ^     There  is  no  word  of  the  fight.     As 

Thackeray  gives  you  Waterloo  in  a  picture  of  Brussels,  so 

Plutarch  gives  you  Leuctra,  and  with  more  of  beauty  and 

pathos,  in  a  picture  of  Sparta.     Of  the  Roman  defeat  at  Cannae  and 

Cannae  there  is  a  full  and  wonderful  account ;    but  what  an  After 

effective  touch  is  added  when  '  the  Consul  Terentius  Varro 

'  returning  backe  to  Rome,  with  the  shame  of  his  extreame 

'  misfortune  and  overthrowe,  that  he  durste  not  looke  upon 

'  any  man :  the  Senate  notwithstanding,  and  all  the  peoj)le 

^Jbllowing  them,  tvent  to  the  gates  of  the  cittie  to  mecte  Mm, 

'  and  dyd  honourably  receyve  him '' ! 

In  these  passages  Plutarch,  following  the  course  of  Greek  His  Choice 
tragedy,  and  keeping  the  action  off  the  stage,  gives  the  of  Occasions 
reverberation  and  not  the  shock  of  fate ;  but  in  many 
others  the  stark  reality  of  his  painting  is  its  own  sufficient 
charm.  He  abounds  in  unfamiliar  aspects  of  familiar  places  : 
places  he  invests  with  (as  it  were)  the  magic  born  of  a  wan- 
dering son''s  return.  Here  is  his  Athens  in  her  decrepitude. 
'The  poore  citie  of  Athens  which  had  escaped  from  so 
'  many  warres,  tyrannies  and  civil  dissensions,"'  is  now 
besieged  by  Sulla  without,   and  oppressed   by  the   tyrant 

^  Agesilaus. 

Iv 


INTRO 
DUCTION 


Sulla  before 
Athens 


Marcellus 

before 

Syracuse 


Breathless 
Moments 


LIVES   OF   THE    NOBLE 

Aristion  within  ;  and  in  his  presentment  of  her  condition 
there  is,  surely,  a  foreshadowing  of  those  dark  ages  when 
historic  sites  became  the  scenes  of  new  tragedies  that  were 
merely  brutal  and  insignificant.    At  Athens  '  men  were  driven 

*  for  famine  to  eate  feverfew  that  grew  about  the  castell ' ; 
also,  they  '  caused  old  shoes  and  old  oyle  pots  to  be  sodden 
'  to  deliver  some  savor  unto  that  which  they  did  eate,"* 
Meanwhile  'the  tyrant  himselfe  did  nothing  all  day  long 
'  but  cramme  in  meat,  drinke  dronke,  daunce,  maske,  scoiF 
'  and  flowte   at  the  enemies  (suffering  the  holy  lampe  of 

*  Minerva  to  go  out  for  lacke  of  oyle).""  Is  there  not  a 
grimness  of  irony  about  this  picture  of  the  drunken  and 
sinister  buffoon  sitting  camped  in  the  Acropolis,  like  a 
toad  in  a  ruined  temple,  '  magnifying  the  dedes  of  Theseus 
'  and  insulting  the  priestes  "*  ?  At  last  the  Roman  enters 
'  the  city  about  midnight  with  a  wonderfull  fearefuU  order, 
'  making  a  marvellous  noise  with  a  number  of  homes  and 
'  sounding  of  trompets,  and  all  his  army  with  him  in 
'  order  of  battell,  crying,  "  To  the  sack,  to  the  sack : 
'  "  Kill,  kill." '  ^  A  companion  picture  is  that  of  a  Syra- 
cuse Thucydides  never  knew.^  Archimedes  is  her  sole  de- 
fence ;  and  thanks  to  him,  the  Roman  ships  are  '  taken 
'  up  with  certaine  engines  fastened  within  one  contrary  to 
'  an  other,  which  made  them  turne  in  the  ayer  like  a 
'  whirlegigge,  and  so  cast  them  upon  the  rockes  by  the 
'  towne  walles,  and  splitted  them  all  to  fitters,  to  the 
'  great  spoyle  and  murder  of  the  persons  that  were  within 
'  them."'  Elsewhere  the  Mediterranean  pirates,  polite  as 
our  own  highwaymen,  are  found  inviting  noble  Romans 
to  walk  the  plank  ;  ^  for  Plutarch  never  misses  a  romantic 
touch.  Some  of  his  strongest  realisations  are  of  moments 
when  fate  hangs  by  a  '  hair  :  as  that  breathless  and  de- 
sperate predicament  of  Aratus  and  his  men  on  their  ladders 
against  the  walls  of  Sicyon ;  with  the  '  curste  curres '  that 
would  not  cease  from  barking ;  the  captain  of  the  watch 
'  visiting  the  soldiers  with  a  little  bell ' ;  '  the  number  of 
'torches  and  a  great  noyse  of  men  that  followed  him';  the 
great  greyhound  kept  in  a  little  tower,  which  began  to  answer 

^  Sylla.  *  Marcellus.  ^  Pompey. 

Ivi 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

the  curs  at  large  'with  a  soft  girning:  but  when  they  came  INTRO- 
'  by  the  tower  where  he  lay,  he  barked  out  alowde,  that  all  DUCTION 
'  the  place  thereabouts  rang  of  his  barking ' ;  the  ladders 
shaking  and  bowing  '  by  reason  of  the  weight  of  the  men, 
'  unless  they  did  come  up  fayer  and  softly  one  after  another,' 
till  at  last,  '  the  cocks  began  to  crowe,  and  the  country  folke 
'  that  brought  things  to  the  market  to  sell, began  to  come  apace 
'  to  the  townie  out  of  every  quarter,''  ^  Later  in  the  same 
life  you  have  the  escalading  of  the  Acrocorinthus  :  when 
Aratus  and  the  storming  party,  with  their  shoes  off,  being 
lost  on  the  slopes,  '  sodainely,  even  as  it  had  been  by  miracle, 
'  the  moone  appearing  through  the  clowdes,  brought  them  to 
'  that  part  of  the  wall  where  they  should  be,  and  straight  the 
'  moone  was  shadowed  againe ' ;  so  they  cut  down  the 
watch,  but  one  man  escaped,  and  '  the  trompets  forthwith 
'  sounded  the  alarom  ...  all  the  citie  was  in  an  uprore, 
'  the  streets  were  straight  full  of  people  running  up  and 
'  downe,  and  of  lights  in  every  comer.""  Plutarch's  manage- 
ment of  light,  I  should  remark,  is  always  astonishingly  real ;  Light  in 
he  never  leaves  the  sun  or  the  moon  out  of  his  picture,  nor  Plutarch 
the  incidence  of  clouds  and  of  the  dust  of  battle.  Thus 
varied  his  smishine  leaps  and  wavers  on  distant  armour,  or 
glares  at  hand  from  Margian  steel ;  or  his  moonlight  glints 
on  a  spear,  and  fades  as  the  wrack  races  athwart  the  sky. 

It  is  all  the  work  of  an  incomparable  painter ;  there  is  any 
amount  of  it  in  the  Parallel  Lives  •^'^  and,  like  his  portraits 
and  his  landscapes,^  it  has  an  aesthetic  value  which  sets  it  far  The  Value  of 
in  front  of  his  moral  reflections.  For  value  depends,  in  part,  his  Art 
on  supply ;  and  of  this  kind  of  art  there  is  less  in  literature 
than  there  is  of  ethical  disquisition.  Moreover,  in  the 
Parallel  Lives  the  proportions  are  reversed,  and  the  volume 

^  Aratus. 

^  See  the  rousing  of  Greece  in  the  Philopamen  ;  the  declaration  of 
Uberty  in  the  Flaminius  ;  the  squadron  of  the  Lacedemonians  at  Plataea  in 
the  Aristides  ;  the  glimpse  of  Philip  at  Chaeronea  gazing  at  the  '  Holy  Band 
'  of  Thebans  all  dead  on  the  grounde '  in  the  Pelopidas  ;  the  first  ride  of 
Alexander  on  Bucephalus  in  the  Alexander ;  the  Macedonians  at  Pydna  in 
the  Pauhts  ^milius. 

*  See  the  country  of  the  Cimbri  in  the  Marius,  and  the  campaigns  of 
Lucullus  and  Crassus. 

h  Ivii 


LIVES    OF   THE   NOBLE 


INTRO- 
DUCTION 


The 

Plutarchian 

World 


of  Pliitarch''s  paintinrij  is  very  much  crreater  than  the  vokime 
of  Plutarch's  moraHties.  And  in  addition  to  vokune,  there 
is  charm.  His  pictures  have  kept  their  '  flourishing  fresh- 
'  ness  "*  untarnished  through  the  ages ;  whereas  his  moral  say- 
ings, being  sound,  have  long  since  been  accepted,  and,  as  I 
said,  are  grown  stale.  His  morality  is  ours  ;  but  he  had  an 
unique  opportunity  for  depicting  the  politics,  the  person- 
alities, and  the  activity  of  a  world  which  had  passed  away. 
A  little  earlier,  and  he  might  have  laboured  like  Thucy- 
dides,  but  only  at  a  part  of  it.  A  little  later,  and  much 
would  have  perished  which  he  has  set  down  and  saved. 
He  paints  it  as  a  whole,  and  on  that  account  is  some- 
times slighted  for  a  compiler  of  legends ;  yet  he  had  the 
advantage  of  personal  contact  with  those  legends  while 
they  were  still  alive ;  and  again  and  again,  as  you  read, 
this  contact  strikes  with  a  pleasant  shock.  To  illustrate 
his  argument  he  will  refer,  by  the  way,  to  the  statue  of  The- 
mistocles  in  the  Temple  of  Artemis ;  to  the  effigies  of  Lucullus 
at  Chaeronea ;  to  the  buildings  of  Pericles  in  their  divinely 
protracted  youth.  The  house  of  Phocion  at  Melita,  and 
the  '  cellar  "■  in  which  Demosthenes  practised  his  oratory,  were 
'  whole  even  to  my  time.'  The  descendants  of  the  soldier 
who  slew  Epaminondas  are,  '  to  this  day,"  known  and  dis- 
tinguished by  the  name  '  machceriones."'  ^  On  the  battle- 
field of  Chaeronea  '  there  was  an  olde  oke  seene  in  my  time 
'  which  the  country  men  commonly  called  Alexander's  oke, 
'  bicause  his  tent  or  pavilion  was  fastened  to  it.'  ^  His 
grandfather  Nicarchus  had  told  him  how  the  defeat  of 
Antony  relieved  his  natal  city  from  a  requisition  for  corn.^ 
From  his  other  grandfather,  Lamprias,  he  heard  of  a 
physician,  his  friend,  who,  '  being  a  young  man  desirous  to 
'  see  things,'  went  over  Cleopatra's  kitchen  with  one  of 
Antony's  cooks ;  and  there,  among  '  a  world  of  diversities  of 
'  meates,'  encountered  with  the  'eight  wild  boares,  rosted 
'  whole,'  which  have  passed  bodily  into  Shakespeare.  This 
contact  was  rarely  immediate ;  but  it  was  personal,  and  it  is 
therefore  quickening.  At  its  touch  a  dead  world  lived  again 
for  Plutarch,  and  by  his  art  that  dead  world  lives  for  us ; 

'  A,^esilaus.  *  Alexander.  ^  Aiitovius. 

Iviii 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

SO  that  in  the  Lives^  as  in  no  other  book,  all  antiquity,  alike  in      INTRO- 
detail  and  in  expanse,  lies  open  and  revealed  to  us, '  flat  as  to  an    DUCTION 
'  eagle"'s  eye/     We  may  study  it  closely,  and  see  it  whole ; 
and  to  do  so  is  to  dispossess  the  mind    of  many  illusions 
fostered  by  books  of  a  narrower  scope.     Juvenal,  the  satirist,  Juvenal  and 
and  Petronius,  the  arbiter  of  a  mode,  do  not  even  pretend  to  Petronius 
show  forth  the  whole  of  life ;  yet  from  their  works,  and  from 
others  of  a  like  purview,  men  have  constructed  a  fanciful 
world  of  unbounded  cruelty  and   immitigable   lust.     This 
same  disproportion    between    premise  and   conclusion   runs 
through  the  writing  of  many  moderns :  j  ust  as  from  the 
decoration  of  a  single  chamber  at  Pompeii  there  have  been 
evoked   whole   cities,  each  in  the  image   of  a   honeycomb 
whose  cells  are  hipanaria.    Even  so  some  archaeologist  of  the 
future  might  take  up  an  obscene  gurgoyle,  and  transfigure 
Christianity  to  its  image !     This  antiquity  of  cruelty  and 
lust  has  been  evolved  for  censure  by  these,  and  by  those  for 
praise ;   yet  if  Plutarch  be  not  the  most  collossal,  taking, 
and  ingenious  among  the  world's  liars,  we  cannot  choose  but 
hold   that   it  never  existed.     For,  apart  from   the  coil   of 
politics  and  the  clamour  and  romance  of  adventure,  his  book 
discovers   us  the  religious  and  the  home  lives  of  old-time 
Italy  and  Greece ;  and  we  find  them  not  dissimilar  from  our 
own.    We  see  them,  it  is  true,  with  the  eyes  of  a  kindly  and  a 
moderate  man.    Yet  he  was  no  apologist,  with  a  case  to  plead ; 
and  if  we  may  be  sure  that  he  was  never  uncharitable,  we 
may   be   equally   sure   that    he   extenuated   nothing.      He 
censures   freely  conduct   which,  according   to  the   extreme 
theory  of  ancient  immorality,  should  scarce  have  excited  his 
surprise ;  and  he  alludes,  by  the  way,  in  a  score  of  places,  to 
a  loving-kindness,  extending  even  to  slaves  and  animals,  of 
which,  according  to  the  same  theory,  he  could  have  known 
nothing,  since  its  very  existence  is  denied.     The  State  was  The  State  and 
more  than  it  is  now ;  but  you  cannot  glean  that  the  Family  the  Family 
was    less,  even    in    Sparta.      Shakespeare   took    from    Plu- 
tarch the  love  of  Coriolanus  for  his  mother,  and  found  in  it  a 
sufficient  motive   for    his    play.      But    Veturia^   is   by  no 
means  the  only  beloved  mother  in  the  Lives,  nor  is  Corio- 

*  Shakespeare's  Volumnia. 

lix 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

INTRO-  lanus  the  only  adoring  son.  Epaminondas  thought  himself 
DUCTION  'most  happy  and  blessed'  because  his  father  and  mother 
had  lived  to  see  the  victoiy  he  won ;  ^  and  Sertorius,  making 
The  Mother  overtures  for  peace,  said  he  had  '  rather  be  counted  the 
'  meanest  citizen  in  Rome,  than  being  a  banished  man  to  be 
'  called  Emperor  of  the  world,'  and  the  '  chiefest  cause  .  .  . 
'  was  the  tender  love  he  bare  unto  his  mother.'^  When 
Antipater  submitted  to  Alexander  certain  well-founded 
accusations  against  Olympiads  misgovemment :  '  "  Loe,""  said 
'  he,  "  Antipater  knoweth  not,  that  one  teare  of  the  mothers 
'  "  eye  will  wipe  out  tenne  thousande  such  letters." '  ^  In  face 
of  the  parting  between  Cratesiclea  and  her  son  Cleomenes, 
one  may  doubt  if  in  Sparta  itself  the  love  between  mother 
and  son  was  more  than  dissembled ;  for,  on  the  eve  of  his 
sailing,  '  she  took  Cleomenes  aside  into  the  temple  of 
'  Neptune  and  imbracinge  and  kissinge  him ;  perceivinge 
'  that  his  harte  yerned  for  sorrowe  of  her  departure,  she 
'  sayed  unto  him  :  "  O  kinge  of  Lacedaemon,  lette  no  man  see 
'  "  for  shame  when  we  come  out  of  the  temple,  that  we  have 
'  "  wept  and  dishonoured  Sparta."" '  Indeed,  the  national  love 
of  Spartans  for  all  children  born  to  Sparta  seems  to  have 
been  eked  out  by  the  fonder  and  the  less  indifferent  affec- 
tion of  each  parent  for  his  own.  If  in  battle  Henri  Quatre 
played  Alexander,  in  the  nursery  his  model  was  Agesilaus, 
The  Child  '  who  loved  his  children  deerely  :  and  would  play  with 
'  them  in  his  home  when  they  were  little  ones,  and  ride 
'  upon  a  little  cocke  horse  or  a  reede,  as  a  horseback.'  * 
Paulus  ^milius  being  '  appointed  to  make  warre  upon 
'  King  Perseus,  all  the  people  dyd  honorably  companie  him 
'  home  unto  his  house,  where  a  little  girl  (a  daughter  of  his) 
'  called  Tertia,  being  yet  an  infant,  came  weeping  unto  her 
'  father.  He,  making  muche  of  her,  asked  her  why  she 
'  wept.  The  poore  girl  answered,  colling  him  about  the 
'  necke,  and  kissing  him : — "  Alas,  father,  wot  you  what  ? 
'  "  our  Perseus  is  dead."  She  merit  by  it  a  litle  wJielpe  so 
'  called,  which  was  her  playe  fillowe.''  Plutarch  had  lost  his 
own  dauo-hter,  and  he  wrote  a  letter  of  consolation  to  his 


'   Coriolanus. 

Ix 


Sertorius. 


^  Alexander. 


Agesilaus. 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

wife,  which  Montaigne  gave  to  his  wife  when  she  was  stricken      INTRO- 

with  the  same  sorrow  :  '  bien  marry,""  as  he  says,  '  de  quoy  la    DUCTION 

'  fortune  vous  a  rendu  ce  present  si  propre."  ^    In  the  Lives  he 

is  ever  most  tender  towards  children,  acknowledging  the  mere 

possibility  of  their  loss  for  an  ever-abiding  terror.    '  Novve,"'  he 

writes  in  the  Solon, '  we  must  not  arme  ourselves  with  poverty 

'  against  the  grief  of  losse  of  goodes;  neither  with  lack  of  aftec- 

'  tion  against  the  losse  of  our  friendes  ;  neither  with  want  of 

'  mariage  against  the  death  of  children  ;  but  we  must  be 

'  armed  with   reason  against  misfortune. "*      Over  and   over 

again  you  come  upon  proof  of  the  love  and  the  compassion 

children  had.    At  the  triumph  of  the  same  ^milius,  through 

three  days  of  such  magnificence  as  Mantegna  has  displayed, 

the  eyes  of  Rome  were  all  for  Perseus'"  children :    '  when 

'  they  sawe  the  poore  little  infants,  that  they  knewe  not  the 

*  change  of  their  hard  fortune  .  .  .  for  the  compassion  they 

'  had  of  them,  almost  let  the  father  passe  without  looking  The  Father 

'  upon  him."     Of  J^milius"*  own  sons,  one  had  died  five  days 

before,  and    the  other  three    days   survived,  that  triumph 

for  which  the  father  had  been  given  four  hundred  golden 

diadems  by  the  cities  of  Greece.     But  he  pronounced  their 

funeral  orations  himself '  in  face  of  the  whole  cittie  .  .  .  not 

'  like  a  discomforted  man,  but  like  one  rather  that  dyd  com- 

'  forte  his  sorrowfuU  countrymen  for  his   mischance.      He 

'  told   them  ...  he  ever  feared  Fortune,  mistrusting  her 

'  change  and  inconstancy,  and  specially  in  the  last  warre.*" 

But    Rome    had    won ;    and    all    was    well,    '  saving   that 

'  Perseus  yet,  conquered  as  he  is,  hath  this  comforte  left 

'  him :    to  see  his  children  living,  and  that  the  conqueror 

'  iEmylius  hath  lost  his."*     This  love  between  children  and 

parents  might  be  expected  in  any  picture  of  any  society  ; 

yet  it  is  conspicuous  in  the  Parallel  Lives  as  it  is  not,  1 

believe,  in   any  reconstruction    of  the   Plutarchian    world. 

Note,  too,  the  passionate  devotion  between  brothers,  dis-  The  Brother 

played  even  by   Cato  of  Utica,^  to  the    scandal   of  other 

Stoics  ;  and  note  everywhere  the  loyal  comradeship  between 

'  Cruserius,  who  translated  the  Lives  into  Latin  (1561),  by  a  strange  co- 
incidence, mourned  his  daughter's  loss  and  found  consolation  in  his  task. 
^  Cato  Utican. 

Ixi 


INTRO- 
DUCTION 

The  Wife 


Animals  and 
Slaves 


LIVES    OF   THE   NOBLE 

husbands  and  wives.  To  Plutarch  wedlock  is  so  sacred  that 
he  is  fierce  in  denouncing  a  certain  political  marriage  as 
being  '  cruell  and  tyrannicall,  fitter  for  Sylla's  time,  rather 
'  than  agreable  to  Pompey's  nature.'  ^  Perhaps  the  com- 
monest view  of  antique  morality  is  that  which  accepts  a 
family  not  unlike  the  family  we  know,  but  at  the  same  time 
denies  the  ancients  all  consideration  for  their  domestic 
animals  and  slaves.  This  tendency,  it  is  thought,  is  a  pro- 
duct of  Christianity  ;  and  the  example  of  the  elder  Cato  is 
sometimes  quoted  in  proof  of  the  view.  But  in  Plutarch*'s 
Cato,  the  Roman's  habit  of  selling  his  worn-out  slaves  is 
given  for  an  oddity,  for  the  exceptional  practice  of  an  eccentric 
old  man  ;  and  Plutarch  takes  the  occasion  to  expound  his 
own  feeling.  '  There  is  no  reason,'  he  writes,  '  to  use  livinge 
'  and  sensible  thinges  as  we  would  use  an  old  shooe  or  a 
'  ragge :  to  cast  it  out  upon  the  dongehill  when  we  have 
'  worn  it  and  it  can  serve  us  no  longer.  For  if  it  were  for  no 
'  respect  els  but  to  use  us  alwayes  to  humanitie,  we  must  ever 
'  showe  ourselves  kinde  and  gentle,  even  in  such  small  poyntes 
'  of  pitie.  And  as  for  me,  I  coulde  never  finde  in  my  heart  to 
'  sell  my  drawt  oxe  that  hadde  ploughed  my  land  a  long  time, 
'  bicause  he  coulde  plowe  no  longer  for  age.'  Here  we  have  a 
higher  standard  of  humanity  than  obtains  in  living  England, 
and  it  is  a  mistake  to  suppose,  as  some  have  done,  that 
it  was  peculiar  to  Plutarch.  On  the  contrary,  his  book 
is  alive  with  illustrations  of  the  same  consideration  for 
domestic  pets  and  beasts  of  service.  A  mule  employed  in 
building  a  temple  at  Athens,  used  to  '  come  of  herselfe  to 
'  the  place  of  labour ' :  a  docility,  '  which  the  people  liked  so 
'  well  in  the  poore  beast,  that  they  appointed  she  shoulde  be 
'  kept  whilest  she  lived,  at  the  charge  of  the  town.'  How 
many  corporations,  I  wonder,  would  lay  a  like  load  on 
the  rates  to-day  ?  In  a  score  of  passages  is  evidence  of  the 
belief  that  '  gentleness  goeth  farther  than  justice.' ^  When 
the  Athenians  depart  from  Attica,  the  most  heartrending 
picture  is  of  the  animals  they  leave  deserted  on  the  sea-coast. 
'  There  was  besides  a  certen  pittie  that  made  men's  harts  to 
'  yerne,  when  they  saw  the  poore  doggs,  beasts,  and  cattell 
^  Pompey.  ^  Cato. 

Ixii 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

'  ronne  up  and  dounc  bleating,  mouing,  and  howling  out      INTRO- 

'  alowde  after  their  masters  in  token  of  sorrow  when  they    DUCTION 

'  dyd  imbark.''     Xantippus'  dog,  '  that  swam  after  them  to 

'  Salamis  and  dyed  presently,'  is  there  interred ;  and  '  they 

'  saye  at  this  daye  the  place  called  the  Doggs  Grave  is  the 

'  very  place  where  he  was  buried.'  ^     With  like  honour  the 

mares  of  Cimon,  who  was  fond  of  racing,  are  buried  at  his 

side.     Indeed,  the  ancients,  far  from  being  callous,  were,  as 

some  would  now  think,  over-sentimental  about  their  horses 

and  dogs.     Having  no  slaves  of  our  own,  it  is  easy  for  us  to 

denounce  slave-owning.     But  this  is  noteworthy  :  that  while 

Plutarch,  the  ancient,  in  dealing  with  the  revolt  of  Spartacus 

and  his  fellow-slaves,  speaks  only  of '  the  wickedness  of  their 

'  master,'  and  pities  their  hard  lot,  North,  the  modern,  dubs 

them  '  rebellious  rascalls^  ^  without  a  word  of  warrant  either 

in  the  nearer  French  or  in  the  remoter  Greek. 

It  is,  indeed,  far  easier  to  pick  up  points  of  resemblance  Plutarch's 
than  to  discover  material  differences  between  the  social  life  ^V'orld  and 
depicted  by  Plutarch  and  our  own  ;  and  the  likeness  extends  '^'"^ 
even  to  those  half- shades  of  feeling  and  illogical  sentiment 
which  often  seem  peculiar  to  a  generation.  To  turn  from 
contemporary  life  to  the  Parallel  Lives,  is  to  find  everywhere 
the  same  natural  but  inconsequent  deference  to  birth  amid 
democratic  institutions ;  ^  the  same  belief  that  women  have 
recently  won  a  freedom  unknown  to  their  grandmothers  ;  the 
same  self-satisfaction  in  new  developments  of  culture  ;  the 
same  despair  over  the  effects  of  culture  on  a  pristine  morality. 
There  are  even  iiTesistible  appeals  to  the  good  old  days. 
Numa,  for  instance,  '  enured  women  to  speak  little  by  for- 
'  bidding  them  to  speak  at  all  except  in  the  presence  of  their 
'  husbands,'  and  with  such  success,  that  a  woman  '  chauncing 
'  one  daye  to  pleade  her  cause  in  persone  before  the  judges 
'  the  Senate  hearing  of  it,  did  send  immediately  unto  the 
'  oracle  of  Apollo,  to  know  what  that  did  prognosticate  to 
'  the  cittie.'  *      Here  was  a  beginning ;   and  the  rest  soon 

^  Themistocles. 

-  Crassus. 

'*  See  Themistocles  as  the  rival  of  Cimon. 

*  Comparison  of  Au»ia  Fompilitis  with  Lycutgus. 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 


INTRO- 
DUCTION 


Culture 


The  Greek 
Influence 


followed.  Just  as  Greek  historians  had  branded  the  first 
murderers  and  parricides  by  name,  even  so  '  the  Romanes  doe 
'  note  .  .  .  that  the  wife  of  one  Pinarius,  called  Thaloea,  was 
'  the  first  which  ever  brauled  or  quarrelled  with  her  mother- 
'  in-law.'  1  That  was  in  the  days  of  Tarquin.  By  Pompey"'s 
time — though  he,  indeed,  was  fortunate  in  a  wife  unspoiled 
by  her  many  accomplishments — the  revolution  is  complete. 
His  Cornelia  '  could  play  well  on  the  harpe,  was  skilfull  in 
'  musicke  and  geometric,  and  tooke  great  pleasure  also  in 
'  philosophic,  and  not  vainly  without  some  profit "" ;  yet  was 
she  '  very  modest  and  sober  in  behaviour,  without  braul- 
'  ing  and  foolish  curiosity,  which  commonly  young  women 
'  have,  that  are  indued  with  such  singular  giftes."*  Such  a 
woman  was  the  product  of  the  Greek  culture,  and  for  that 
Plutarch  has  nothing  but  praise.^  It  was  first  introduced, 
he  tells  you,  after  the  siege  of  Syracuse  ;  for  Marcellus  it 
was  who  brought  in  '  fineness  and  curious  tables,'  '  pic- 
'  tures  and  statues,'  to  supplant  the  existing  '  monu- 
'  ments  of  victories ' :  things  in  themselves  '  not  pleasant,  but 
'  rather  fearfull  sightes  to  look  upon,  farre  unfit  for  femi- 
nine eyes.'  ^  In  all  this  there  is  little  that  differs  from  the 
life  we  know  :  you  have  the  same  facts  and  the  same  re- 
flexions— especially  the  same  reflexions.  For  our  own  age  is 
akin  to  the  age  of  Plutarch,  in  so  far  as  both  are  certain 
centuries  in  rear  of  an  influx  of  Hellenic  ideas.  Those  ideas 
reconquered  the  West  in  the  fifteenth  century  ;  and  since 
this  second  invasion  the  results  of  the  first  have  been  re- 
peated in  many  directions.  Certain  phases,  indeed,  of 
thought  and  feeling  in  Plutarch's  age  are  re-echoed  to-day 
still  more  distinctly  than  in  the  world  of  his  Renaissance 
translators.  For  in  remoteness  from  the  point  of  first  con- 
tact with  Greek  influence,  and  in  the  tarnish  of  disillusion 
which  must  inevitably  discolour  any  prolonged  development, 
this  century  of  ours  is  more  nearly  allied  to  Plutarch's  than 
the  sixteenth  was,  with  its  young  hope  and  unbounded  enthu- 
siasm.    The  older  activity  reminds  you  of  the  times  which 

^  Comparison  of  Numa  Pompilius  with  Lycurgus. 

^  See  his  defence  of  it  in   Cicero^  his  attack  on   Cato  for  opposing  it, 
and  passim.  ^  Marcellus. 

Ixiv 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

Plutarch  painted  ;  the  modern  temper,  of  the  times  in  which      INTRO- 
he  wrote.  DUCTION 

But  in  the  frail  rope  which  the  mind  of  man  is  ever  weav- 
ing, that  he  may  cling  to  something  in  the  void  of  his 
ignorance,  there  is  one  strand  which  runs  through  all  the 
Plutarchian  centuries ;  which  persists  in  his  own  age  and  on  A  Difference 
into  the  age  of  his  early  translators ;  but  which  in  England 
has  been  fretted  almost  through.  Nobody  can  read  the 
Parallel  Lives  without  remarkino;  the  signal  change  which 
has  fallen  upon  man's  attitude  towards  the  supernatural. 
Everywhere  in  Plutarch,  by  way  of  both  narrative  and 
comment,  you  find  a  confirmed  belief  in  omens,  portents, 
and  ghosts :  not  a  pious  opinion,  but  a  conviction  bulking 
huge  in  everyday  thought,  and  exerting  a  constant  influence 
on  the  ordinary  conduct  of  life.  Death  and  disaster,  good 
fortune  and  victory,  never  come  without  forewarning.  Before  Omens 
great  Caesar  fell  there  were  '  fires  in  the  element  .  .  .  spirites 
'  running  up  and  downe  in  the  nighte  ""  and  '  solitary  birdes 
'  to  be  scene  at  noone  dayes  sittinge  in  the  great  market- 
'  place.'  ^  Nor  only  before  a  great  event,  but  also  after  it, 
occur  these  sympathetic  perturbations  in  the  other  world : 
'  the  night  being  come,  such  things  fell  out,  as  maye  be 
'  looked  for  after  so  terrible  a  battle.'  ^  The  w^ood  quaked, 
and  a  voice  criod  out  of  heaven  !  AlHed  to  and  alongside 
of  this  belief  in  an  Unseen  in  touch  with  the  living:  world 
at  every  hour  of  the  day-time  and  night,  you  have  the 
solemn  practice  of  obscure  rites  and  the  habitual  observance  Rites  and 
of  customs  half-insignificant.  Some  of  these  are  graceful ;  Customs 
others  embaiTassing.  The  divination,  for  instance,  of  the 
Spartan  Ephors  must  often,  at  least  in  August  and  Novem- 
ber, have  shaken  public  confidence  in  the  State;  for  they 
'  did  sit  downe  in  some  open  place,  and  beheld  the  stars  in 
'  the  element,  to  see  if  they  saw  any  starre  shoote  from  one 
*  place  to  another,'  and  '  if  they  did,  then  they  accused  tJwir 
'  king.''  3  To  us,  this  giving  of  the  grotesque  and  the  terrible 
in  the  same  breath,  without  distinction  or  comment,  is 
strangely  incongruous.  Sulla's  bloody  entry  into  Rome  was 
doubly  foreshadowed :    there  was    the   antic   disposition   of 

1  Julius  CcBsar.  -  Publicola.  ^  Agis  and  Cleomenes. 

i  Ixv 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 


INTRO-  certain  rats,  which  first  gnawed  'some  juells  of  golde  in  a 
DUCTION  '  church,'' and  then,  being  trapped  by  the  'sexton,**  ate  up 
their  young ;  and  again,  '  when  there  was  no  cloude  to  be 
'  seen  in  the  element  at  all,  men  heard  such  a  sharp  sound 
'  of  a  trompet,  as  they  were  almost  out  of  their  wits  at  so 
'  great  a  noise."  ^  No  scientific  explanation,  even  if  one  were 
forthcoming,  could  suffice  to  lull  suspicion  in  a  pious  mind. 
iEmilius  understood  as  well  as  any  the  cause  of  the  moon's 
eclipse :  '  nevertheless,  he  being  a  godly  devout  man,  so  soon 
'  as  he  perceyved  the  moone  had  recovered  her  former  bright- 

Dies  nefasti  '  ness  againe,he  sacrificed  eleven  calves/^  To  add  to  the  incon- 
venience of  this  habit  of  mind,  there  were  more  unlucky  days 
in  the  year  than  holidays  in  the  mediaeval  calendar.  It  was 
such  a  day  that  marred  the  prospect  of  Alcibiades""  return  : 
for  '  there  were  some  that  misliked  very  much  the  time  of 
'  his  landing :  saying  it  was  very  unluckie  and  imfortunate. 
'  For  the  very  day  of  his  returne,  fell  out  by  chaunce  on  the 
'  feast  which  they  call  Plynteria,  as  you  would  saye,  the 
'  washing   day.'^     Such  feasts,  with  their  half-meaningless 

Festivals  customs,  accompanied  the  belief  in  portents  and  ghosts  and 

the  ordinary  forms  of  ritual,  being  but  another  fruit  of  the 
same  intellectual  habit.  Some  of  them  seem  absm'd  ana- 
chronisms in  the  Rome  of  Julius  Caesar,  At  the  Lupercal, 
for  instance,  even  in  Caesar's  day,  as  every  one  knows  from 
Shakespeare,  young  men  of  good  family  still  ran  naked 
through  the  streets,  touching  brides  at  the  request  of  their 
husbands.*  Again,  on  the  feast  of  the  goddess  Matuta, 
'  they  cause  a  chamber  mayde  to  enter  into  her  temple,  and 
'  there  they  boxe  her  about  the  eares.  Then  they  put  her 
'  out  of  the  temple,  and  do  embrace  their  brothers'  children 
'  rather  than  their  own.'  ^  There  is  no  end  to  these  customs : 
customs  which  are  as  it  were  costumes  of  the  mind,  partly 
devised  to  cover  its  nakedness,  and  partly  expressed  in  fancy. 
Plutarch  tries  sometimes  to  explain  their  origin  ;  but  he  can 
only  hazard  a  guess.  Nobody  remembers  what  they  mean. 
They  are,  rather,  a  picturesque  means  of  asserting  that  there 
really  is  an  undercurrent  of  meaning  in  the  world. 


Ixvi 


Sylla.  "  Patilus  ^miliiis. 

*  Julius  CcEsar. 


'  Alcibiades. 
Furius  Camillus. 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

Beyond  and  above  these  mummeries,  now  so  strange,  in  a  INTRO- 
loftier  range  of  Plutarch''s  thought  is  much  that  is  famihar  DUCTION 
and  near.  Of  some  miracles  he  writes  almost  as  an  apologist. 
It  is  said  that '  images  .  . .  have  been  heard  to  sighe  :  that  they 
'  have  turned :  and  that  they  have  made  certen  signes  with 
'  their  eyes.'  These  reports  '  are  not,'  he  adds,  '  incredible, 
'  nor  lightly  to  be  condemned.  But  for  such  matters  it  is 
'  daungerous  to  give  too  much  credit  to  them,  as  also  to  dis- 
'  credit  them  too  much,  by  reason  of  the  weaknes  of  man's 
'  nature,  which  hath  no  certen  bomides,  nor  can  rule  itself, 
'  but  ronneth  sometimes  to  vanitie  and  superstition,  and 
'  otherwhile  also  despiseth  and  condemneth  holy  and  divine 
'  matters.'  ^  On  such  points  of  belief,  as  on  the  immediate 
inspiration  of  individuals,  '  the  waye  is  open  and  large ' :  ^ 
each  must  decide  for  himself,  remembering  that  religion  is  God  in 
the  mean  between  superstition  and  impiety.  On  the  other  Plutarch 
hand,  never  once  does  Plutarch  admit  a  doubt  of  the  Divine 
Government  of  the  world.  He  approves  his  Alexander's 
saying  :  'that  God  generally  was  father  to  all  mortall  men.'^ 
And  in  a  magnificent  passage  of  North's  English  which  might 
almost  have  come  out  of  the  book  of  Common  Prayer,  he 
upholds  the  view  of  Pythagoras  :  '  who  thought  that  God  was 
'  neither  sensible  nor  mortall,  but  invisible,  incorruptible 
and  only  intelligible.'  ^ 


III 

In  substance,  then,  the   book   stands   alone.      Its   good  Two  Trans- 
fortune    has    been   also    unexampled.       By   a   chance    this  lators 
singular  image  of  the  ancient  world  has  been  happy  beyond 
others  in  the  manner  of  its  transmission  to  our  time.     To 

^  Furins  Camilliis.  "  Ntima  Ponipilius. 

^  Alexander,  Cf.  Plutarch's  Morals,  Phil.  Holland,  1657 :  the  eighth 
book  of  Symposiaques  ;  the  first  question,  p.  628. 

■*  In  the  Brutus  North  credits  its  hero  with  a  declaration  of  belief  in 
another  life.  But  this  is  a  mistranslation  of  Amyot's  French.  We  know,  how- 
ever, with  what  passionate  conviction  Plutarch  held  this  belief  in  '  a  better 
'  place,  and  a  happier  condition,'  from  the  conclusion  of  his  '  consolatory 
'  letter,  sent  unto  his  own  wife,  as  touching  the  death  of  her  and  his 
'  daughter.' — Morals^  Phil.  Holland,  1657,  p.  442. 

Ixvii 


LIVES   OF   THE    NOBLE 

INTRO-  quote  a  Quarterly  Reviewer:^  'There  is  no  other  case  of  an 
DUCTION  '  ancient  writer — whether  Greek  or  Latin — becoming  as  well 
'  known  in  translations  as  he  was  in  the  classical  world,  or  as 
'  great  modern  writers  are  in  the  modern  one '' ;  and  for  this 
chance  we  have  to  thank  one  man,  Jaques  Amyot.  But  for 
his  version  we  should  have  received  none  from  North ;  and 
without  these  two,  Plutarch  must  have  remained  sealed  to  all 
but  Greek  scholars.  For  the  Daciers  and  the  Langhornes 
could  never  have  conquered  in  right  of  their  own  impoverished 
prose.  They  palmed  it  off  on  a  public  still  dazzled  by  the 
fame  wherewith  their  forerunners  had  illuminated  the  Lives  \ 
and  when  these  were  ousted  from  recollection,  their  own  fate 
became  a  simple  matter  of  time. 
Jaques  The  son  of  a  butcher,^  or  a  draper,^  Jaques  Amyot  was 

Amyot  born  at  Melun  in  1513,  and  was  sent  as  a  boy  by  his  parents 

to  study  at  Paris.  You  find  him  there  at  fifteen,  at  Cardinal 
Lemoine''s  college,  and  two  yeai's  later  following  the  lectures 
of  Thusan  and  Danes.  For  the  University,  still  hide-bound 
in  scholastic  philosophy,  was  nothing  to  his  purpose  of 
mastering  Greek.  It  was  hard  in  those  years,  even  for  the 
rich,  to  find  books  in  Greek  character,*  and  Amyot  must 
live  on  the  loaves  his  mother  sent  him  by  the  river  barges, 
and  wait  for  a  pittance  on  his  fellow-students.  Yet  he 
toiled  on  with  romantic  enthusiasm,  reading  by  the  firelight 
for  lack  of  candles ;  till  at  last  he  knew  all  they  could  teach 
him,  and  left  Paris  to  become  a  tutor  at  Bourges.  There, 
thanks  to  Marguerite  de  NavaiTe,^  he  obtained  a  chair  in  the 
University,  whence  he  lectm'ed  twice  a  day  on  Greek  and 
Latin  letters  during  twelve  years.  It  was  in  these  years 
that  he  began  his  great  work  as  a  translator :  completing  in 
all  probability  the  Ethiopian  History,^  and  the  more  famous 

^  Vol.  ex.,  No.  220,  p.  459,  Oct.  1861.     Apparently  Archbishop  Trench. 

^  Brantome. 

^  Blignieres.  According  to  another,  parentibus  honestis  fnagis  qjia??i 
copiosis. 

■*  Before  1530  only  a  few  Homeric  Hymns  and  some  essays  of  Plutarch  had 
been  published. 

^  The  Marguerite  of  The  Hcptameron. 

^  Published  in  1547  with  an  interesting  passage  in  the  proem  :  '  Et  n'avoit 
'  ce  livre  jamais  este  imprime,   sinon  depuis  que  la  librairie  du  roi  Matthias 

Ixviii 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

Daphnis  and  Chloe}     But,  at  the  instance  of  Marguerite''s      INTRO- 

brother,  Francois  i.,  he  also  began  the  Lives,  receiving  by    DUCTION 

way  of  incentive  the  Abbacy  of  Bellozane  ;^  and  to  prosecute 

this  purpose,  soon  after  the  king''s  death,  he  made  a  scholar's 

pilgrimage  to  Italy.     In  the  Library  of  St.  Mark  at  Venice 

he   rediscovered    the    Lives   of  Diodorus   Siculus ;  ^    in    the 

Library  of  the  Vatican  a  more  perfect  ms.  of  the  Ethiopian 

History.     But  search  as  he  might  during  his  two  years'  stay 

at  Rome,  he  could  never  recover  the  missing  lives  of  Plutarch. 

He  laboured  on  the  text,  but  those  which  /'  injurie  du  temps 

nous  avoit  enviSes,^  were  gone  past  retrieving.     On  his  return 

the  scholar  became  a  courtier,  in  the  castles  of  the  Loire,  and 

something  of  a  diplomat;  for  he  acted  as  the  emissary  of 

Henri  ii.  at  the  Council  of  Trent,  playing  an  inconspicuous 

part  grossly  exaggerated  by  De  Thou.      In  1554  he  was 

appointed  tutor  to  the  young  princes  who  were  to  rule  as 

Charles  ix.  and  Henri  iii.     In  1559  he  published  the  Lives ;  First  Edition 

the  next  yeai-,  on  the  accession  of  his  elder  pupil,  he  was  made  of  the  Vies 

Grand  Almoner  of  France ;   and  in  1570  he  became  Bishop 

of  Auxerre.     In  1572  he  published  the  Morals:,  but  this 

book,  like  the  Frangiade,  published  in  the  same  year,  fell 

comparatively  dead.     The  halcyon  days  of  scholars  and  poets 

ended  with  the  St.   Bartholomew ;   and  thenceforward  the 

darkness    deepened    over   these    two   and   all    the   brilliant 

company  which  had  gathered  round  Catherine  and  Diane  de 

Poictiers.     In  1588  the  full  fury  of  the  Catholic  League  fell 

upon  Amyot,  for  standing  by  his  king  after  the  murder  of 

the  Guise.     His  diocese  revolted  at  the  instigation  of  Claude 

Trahy,  a  truculent  monk ;  and  the  last  works  he  published 

are  his  Apology  and  Griefs  des  Plaintes.     In  August  1589 

he  wrote  to  the  Due  de  Nivernais  :    '  Je  suis  le  plus  afflige, 

'  Corvin  fut  saccagee,  au  quel  sac  il  se  trouva  un  soldat  allemant  qui  mit  la 
'  main  dessus  pour  ce  qu'il  le  vit  richement  estofe,  et  le  vendit  a  celuy  qui 
'  depuys  le  fit  imprimer  en  Allemaigne. ' 

^  Published  without  his  name  as  late  as  1559.  As  tutor  to  the  young 
princes  he  seems  to  have  entertained  a  certain  scruple,  which  even  led  him  to 
suppress  one  passage  in  his  translation. 

^  1546.     The  last  benefice  bestowed  by  Frangois. 

2  Of  which  he  translated  and  published  seven  in  1554. 

■*  Amyot :  Atix  Ledeiirs. 

Ixix 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

INTRO-      '  destruit  et  ruine  pauvre  prebstre  qui,  comme  je  crois,  soit  en 

DUCTION  '  France';  in  1591  he  was  divested  of  his  dignities  ;i  and  in 

1593  he  died.     His  long  life  reflects  the  changing  features  of 

his  time.     In  youth  he  was  a  scholar  accused  of  scepticism, 

in  old  age  a  divine  attacked  for  heresy,  and  for  some  pleasant 

years  between,  a  courtier  pacing  with  poets  and  painters  the 

long   galleries  of  Amboise   and  Chenonceaux :    as  we  may 

think,  well  within  earshot  of  those  wide  bay-^vindows  where  the 

daughters  of  France    'entourees   de   leurs   gouvernantes  et 

'  filles  d'honneur,  s'edifioient  grandement  aux  beaux  dits  des 

'  Grecs  et  des  Romains,  rememoriez  par  le  doulx  Plutarchus.'  ^ 

He   was,  then,  a  scholar  touched  with  the  wonder  of  a 

L^'  time  which  saw,  as  in  Angelo's  Last  Judgment^  the  great 

works  of  antiquity  lifting  their  limbs  from  the  entombing 

dust  of  oblivion  ;  and  he  was  a  courtier  behind  the  scenes  in 

His  Accuracy  a  great  age  of  political  adventure.  Was  he  also  an  accurate 
translator  ?  According  to  De  Thou,  he  rendered  his  original 
'majore  elegantia  quam  fide';  according  to  Meziriac,^  he 
was  guilty  of  two  thousand  blunders.*  The  verdict  was 
agreeable  to  the  presumption  of  the  seventeenth  century, 
and  was,  of  course,  confirmed  by  the  eighteenth ;  but  it  has 
been  revised.  Given  the  impossibility  of  finding  single 
equivalents  in  the  young  speech  of  the  Renaissance,  for  the 
literary  and  philosophic  connotations  of  a  language  labom-ed 
during  six  hundred  years  ;  and  given  the  practice  of  choosing 
without  comment  the  most  plausible  sense  of  a  corrupted 
passage,  the  better  opinion  seems  to  be  that  Amyot  lost 
little  in  truth,  and  gained  ever}i;hing  in  charm.  '  It  is  sur- 
'  prising,'  says  Mr.  Long,^  and  his  word  shall  be  the  last,  '  to 
'  find  how  correct  this  old  French  translation  generally  is.' 

His  Style  The  question  of  style  is  of  deeper  importance.  Upon  this 
Ste.-Beuve  acutely  remarks^  that  the  subtlety  of  Plutarch, 
as  of  Augustine,  and  the  artless  good-nature  of  Amyot  belong 
each  to  its  age  ;  and,  further,  are  more  apparent  to  us  than 

^  Grand  Almoner  and  Librarian  of  the  Royal  Library. 
-  Brantome. 

^  Who  undertook  to  translate  Plutarch,  but  failed  to  do  so. 
*  Discours  de  la  Traduction,  1635  (cf.  Blignieres,  p.  435). 
5  Plutarch's  Lives',  Aubrey  Stewart,  M.A.,  and  the  late  George  Long, 
M.A.,  18S0,  vol.  i.  p.  xvii.  ^  Causeries  du  Lundi,  iv,  469. 

Ixx 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

real  in  their  authors.  We  may  say,  indeed,  without  extrava-  INTRO- 
gance,  that  the  youth  of  Amyofs  style,  modifying  the  age  DUCTION 
of  Plutarch's,  achieves  a  mean  in  full  and  natural  harmony 
with  Plutarch's  matter.  In  Amyot's  own  opinion,  so  great 
a  work  must  appeal  to  all  men  of  judgment '  en  quelque  style 
'  qu'il  soit  mis,  pourveu  qu'il  s'entende ' ;  ^  yet  his  preoccupa- 
tion on  this  point  was  punctilious.  He  found  in  Plutarch 
a  '  scabreuse  asperite ' — '  epineuse  et  ferree '  are  Montaigne's 
epithets — ^yet  set  himself  '  a  representer  aucunement  et  a  His  Aim  in 
'  adumbrer  la  forme  de  style  et  maniere  de  parler  d'iceluy ' :  ^  Translation 
apologising  to  any  who  on  that  account  should  find  his 
language  less  '  coulant '  than  of  yore.  But  Amyot  was  no 
pedant ;  he  would  render  his  original,  not  ape  him ;  he 
would  write  French,  and  not  rack  it.  He  borrowed  at  need 
from  Greek  and  Italian,  but  he  was  loyal  to  his  own  tongue. 
'  Nous  prendrons,'  said  he — and  the  canon  is  unimpeachable — 
'les  mots  qui  sont  les  plus  propres  pour  signifier  la  chose 
'  dont  nous  voulons  parler,  ceux  qui  nous  sembleront  plus 
'  doux,  qui  sonneront  le  mieux  a  Toreille,  qui  seront  cou- 
'  tumierement  en  la  bouche  des  bien  parlants,  qui  seront 
'  bons  fran^ois  et  non  etrangers.""  To  render  late  Greek  into 
early  French  is  not  easy ;  so  he  takes  liis  time.  Not  a  word 
is  there  save  to  further  his  conquest  of  Plutarch's  meaning ; 
but  all  his  words  are  marshalled  in  open  order,  and  they  pace  at 
leisure.  For  his  own  great  reward  Montaigne  wTote:  '  Je  donne  His  Results 
'  la  palme  avecque  raison,  ce  me  semble,  a  Jaques  Amyot,  sur 
'  tons  nos  escripvains  Francois ' ;  and  he  remains  the  earliest 
classic  accepted  by  the  French  Academy.  But  for  our  delight 
he  found  Plutarch  a  language  which  could  be  translated  into 
Elizabethan  English. 

If  Amyot  was  the  right  man  for  Plutai'ch,  North  was  the  Sir  Thomas 
right  man  for  Amyot.     He  was  born  the  second  and  yoimgest  ^^^h 
son  of  Edward,  first  Baron  North,  about  the  year  1535,  and 
educated,  in  all  probability,  at  Peterhouse,  Cambridge.^     His 
father  was  one  of  those  remarkable  men  of  law  who,  through 
all   the   ranging   political   and   religious  vicissitudes   under 

^  Dedication  to  Henri  il.  -  Aux  Lecieurs, 

"  See  Dictionary  of  National  Biography,  which  gives  fuller  information 
than  I  have  found  elsewhere. 

Ixxi 


LIVES    OF  THE   NOBLE 


INTRO-      Henry  vii.,  Henry  viii.,  Edward  vi.,  Queen  Jane,  Mary,  and 

DUCTION  Elizabeth — so  disastrous  to  the  older  nobility — ever  con- 
trived to  make  terms  with  the  winning  side ;  until,  dying  in 
1564,  a  peer  of  the  realm  and  Lord  Lieutenant  of  Cambridge- 
shire and  the  Isle  of  Ely,  he  was  buried  in  Kirtling  Church, 
where  his  monumental  inscription  may  still  be  read  in  the 
chancel.     His  son  Thomas  was  also  entered  a  student  at 

Lincoln's  Inn  Lincoln's  Inn  (1557),  but  he  soon  prefeiTed  letters  before 
law.  He  was  generally,  Leicester  wrote  to  Burghley,  'a 
'  very  honest  gentleman,  and  hath  many  good  things  in  him, 
'  which  are  drowned  only  by  poverty.'  In  particular,  we  are 
told  by  his  great-nephew,  the  fourth  Baron,  he  was  '  a  man 
'  of  courage,'  and  in  the  days  of  the  Ai'mada  we  find  him 
taking  command,  as  Captain,  of  three  hundred  men  of  Ely. 
Fourteen  years  before  (in  1574)  he  had  accompanied  his 
brother  Roger,  the  second   Baron,  in  his  Embassy-Extra- 

Frauce  ordinary  to   Henri  iii.  :    a  mission   of  interest  to  us,  as  it 

cannot  but  have  encountered  him  with  Amyot,  and  may 
have  determined  him  to  translate  the  Lives.  He  was  already 
an  author.  In  December  1557  he  had  published,  with  a 
dedication  to  Queen  Mary,  his  translation  of  Guevara's  Lihro 
Aureo^  a  Spanish  adaptation  of  the  Meditations  of  Marcus 
Aurelius;  and  in  1570  The  Morall  PhilosopMe  of  Doni  .  .  . 
'  a  worke  first  compiled  in  the  Indian  tongue.'  ^  For  the  rest, 
his  immortal  service  to  English  letters  brought  him  little 
wealth,  but  much  consideration  from  his  neighbours,  his 
kinsmen,  and  his  sovereign.     In  1568  he  was  presented  with 

Rewards  the  freedom  of  the  city  of  Cambridge.     In  1576  his  brother 

gave  him  the  'lease  of  a  house  and  household  stuff.'  He 
was  knighted  about  1591 ;  he  received  the  Commission  of 
the  Peace  in  Cambridgeshire  in  1592 ;  in  1601  he  got  a 
pension  of  ,£40  from  the  Queen,  duly  acknowledged  in  his 
dedication  of  the  lives  added  to  the  Plutarch  of  1603. 
He  died,  it  is  likely,  before  this  edition  saw  the  light:  a 
valiant  and  courteous  gentleman,  and  the  earliest  master  of 
gi'eat  English  prose. 

^  Subsequent  editions,  1568,  1582,  1619. 

-  Second   edition,    1601.      Reprinted  as  T/ie  Fables  of  Bidpai,  with  an 
Introduction  by  Joseph  Jacobs,  1888. 

Ixxii 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

He  also  thought  the  Lives  a  book  'meete  to  be  set  forth  INTRO- 
*  in  English.'  i  Truly  :  but  in  what  English  ?  He  writes  of  DUCTION 
a  Muse  'called  Tacita,^  as  ye  would  saye,  ladye  Silence.' 
Should  we  ?  Turning  to  a  modem  translation,  I  find  '  Tacita, 
'  which  means  silent  or  dumb.'  The  glory  has  clearly 
departed :  but  before  seeking  it  again  in  North's  unrivalled 
language,  I  must  ask  of  him,  as  I  have  asked  of  Amyot,  Was  HisAccuracy 
he  an  accurate  translator  ?  I  do  not  believe  there  are  a  score 
of  passages  throughout  his  1175  folio  pages  ^  in  which  he 
impairs  the  sense  of  his  original.  And  most  of  these  are 
the  merest  slips,  arising  from  the  necessity  imposed  on  him 
of  breaking  up  Amyot's  prolonged  periods,  and  his  subse- 
quent failure  in  the  attribution  of  relatives  and  qualifica- 
tions. They  are  not  of  the  slightest  consequence,  if  the 
reader,  on  finding  an  obscui'ity,  will  rely  on  the  general  sense 
of  the  passage  rather  than  on  the  mles  of  syntax  ;  and  of  such 
obscm-ities  I  will  boldly  say  that  there  are  not  ten  in  the 
whole  book.  Very  rarely  he  mistakes  a  word — as  '  real '  for 
'  royal ' — and  very  rarely  a  phrase.  For  instance,  in  the 
Pericles  he  writes  :  '  At  the  beginning  there  was  but  a  little  Blunders  and 
'  secret  grudge  only  between  these  two  factions,  as  an  arti-  L-iberties 
^  Jicial  Jiower  set  in  the  blade  of  a  sworde^  which  stands  for 
'  comme  une  feuille  superficielle  en  une  lame  de  fer.'  In  the 
Solon  he  writes :  *  his  familier  friendes  above  all  rebuked 
'  him,  saying  he  was  to  be  accompted  no  better  than  a  beast,"" 
for  '  qu  il  seroit  bien  beste.'  Some  of  his  blunders  lend 
power  to  Amyot  and  Plutarch  both  :  as  in  that  fine  passage  of 
the  Publicola,  wherein  the  conspirators'  '  great  and  horrible 
'  othe,  drinking  the  blood  of  a  man  and  shaking  hands  in 
'  his  bowels,'  stands  for  '  touchant  des  mains  aux  entrailles.' 
There  is  one  such  error  of  unique  interest.  It  stands  in 
Shakespeare  that 

'  in  his  mantle  muffling  up  his  face. 
Even  at  the  base  of  Pompey's  statua. 
Which  all  the  while  ran  blood,  great  Caesar  fell ' ; 

^  Dedication  to  Elizabeth.  ^  In  the  Numa. 

'  The  first  edition  of  1559,  compared  by  me  with  Amyot's  second  edition 
of  1565.      I  had  not  the  third,  of  1567,  from  which  North  translated  ;  but 
on  several  points  I  have  referred  to  the  copy  in  the  British  Museum. 
Ar  Ixxiii 


INTRO- 
DUCTION 


His  Use  of 

Earlier 

Versions 


His  Use  of 
Amyot 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

and  we  read  in  North,  'against  the  base,  whereupon  Pom- 
'  pey"'s  image  stoode,  which  ranne  all  of  a  goare  bloude'' ; 
but  Amyot  simply  writes,  '  qui  en  fust  toute  ensanglantee. 
The  blunder  has  enriched  the  world  :  that  is,  if  it  was  truly 
a  blunder,  and  not  a  touch  of  genius.  For  North  will 
sometimes,  though  very  rarely  of  set  purpose,  magnify  with 
a  word,  or  transfigure  a  sentence.  *  Le  deluge,""  for  example, 
is  always  '  Noe''s  flood ' ;  and  in  one  celebrated  passage  he 
bowdierises  without  shame,  turning  Flora's  parting  caress 
to  Pompey  into  a  '  sweete  quippe  or  pleasant  taunte.'  ^ 
Such  are  the  discrepancies  which  can  by  any  stretch  be 
called  blunders  ;  and  the  sum  of  them  is  insignificant  in  a 
work  which  echoes  its  original  not  only  in  sense  but  also  in 
rhythm  and  form.  North  had  the  Greek  text,  or  perhaps  a 
Latin  translation,  before  him.  In  the  Sertoi-ius  he  speaks 
of  '  Gaule  Narbonensis,'  with  nothing  but  '  Languedoc '  in 
Amyot ;  in  the  Pompey  he  gives  the  Greek,  unquoted  by 
Amyot,  for  '  let  the  dye  be  cast ' ;  in  dealing  with  Demos- 
thenes' quinsy,  he  attempts  an  awkward  pun,  which  Amyot 
had  disdained ;  and  in  the  Cicero  he  gives  in  Greek  char- 
acter the  original  for  Latin  terms  of  philosophy,  whereas 
Amyot  does  not.  These  are  the  only  indications  I  have 
found  of  his  having  looked  beyond  the  French.  But  on 
Amyot  he  set  a  grip  which  had  its  bearing  on  the  develop- 
ment of  Tudor  prose.  It  may  even  be  that,  in  tracing  this 
development,  we  have  looked  too  exclusively  to  Italian, 
Spanish,  and  classical  sources.  Sidney  read  North's  book ; 
Shakespeare  rifled  it ;  and  seven  editions  ^  were  published, 
within  the  hundred  years  which  saw  the  new  birth  of  Eng- 
lish prose  and  its  glorious  fulfilment.  In  acknowledging 
our  debt,  have  we  not  unduly  neglected  the  Bishop  of 
AuxeiTe  ?  Sentence  for  sentence  and  rhythm  for  rhythm,  in 
all  the  great  passages  North's  style  is  essentially  Amyot's.^ 
There  are  differences,  of  course,  which  catch  the  eye,  and 

^  Greek  dSiyKTwy:  Lat.,  Ed.  Princeps  (1470),  'sine  morsu.'  Long  has 
another  reading  and  translation,  but  most  will  agree  that  Amyot's  is  not  a 
blunder  but  an  emendation. 

""  1579  ;  1595  ;  1603  ;  1612  ;  1631  ;  1657  ;  1676. 

^  Cf.  for  instance,  in  the  Antonius,  Cleopatra  on  the  Cydnus  ;  the  death  of 
Antonius  ;  and  the  death  of  Cleopatra. 
Ixxiv 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

have,  therefore,  as  I  think,  attracted  undue  attention,  the      INTRO- 
more  naturally  since  they  are  all  in  North''s  favour.     His    DUCTION 
vigorous  diction  puts  stuff  into  the  text :  he  stitches  it  with 
sturdy  locutions,  he  tags  it  with  Elizabethan  braveries.    But 
the  woof  and  the  design  are  still  Amyot's  ;  and  the  two  ver- 
sions may  be  studied  most  conveniently  abreast. 

In  neither  writer  is  the  verse  of  any  account.  Indeed,  Differences 
when  North  comes  to  an  incident  of  the  Gymnopoedia — '  the  ^^^  Resem- 
*  which  Sophocles  doth  easily  declare  by  these  verses  :  auces 

'  The  song  which  you  shall  sing  shall  be  the  sonnet  sayde 

'  By  Hermony  lusty  lasse,  that  strong  and  sturdy  mayde ; 

'  Which  trust  her  peticote  about  her  middle  short 

'  And  set  to  show  her  naked  hippes  in  frank  and  friendly  sort ' — 

you  feel  that  the  reference  to  Sophocles  is  not  only  remote 
but  also  grotesque.  It  is  very  different  with  their  prose. 
And  first,  is  North''s  version — the  translation  of  a  transla- 
tion— by  much  removed  from  Plutarch  ?  In  a  sense,  yes. 
It  is  even  truer  of  North  than  of  Amyot,  that  he  offers 
Plutarch  neither  to  philosophers  nor  to  grammarians,  but 
to  all  who  would  understand  life  and  human  nature.^  But 
for  these,  and  for  all  lovers  of  language,  Plutarch  loses  little 
in  Amyot,  saving  in  the  matter  of  literary  allusion  ;  and 
Amyot  loses  nothing  in  North,  save  for  the  presence  of  a 
score  of  whims  and  obscurities.  On  the  other  hand,  we 
recapture  in  North  an  English  equivalent  for  those  'gascon- 
isms'  which  Montaigne  retained  in  French,  but  which  Amyot 
rejected  from  it.  The  Plutarchian  hues  are  never  lost — they 
are  but  doubly  refracted  ;  and  by  each  refraction  they  are 
broadened  in  surface  and  deepened  in  tone.  The  sunlight 
of  his  sense  is  sometimes  subdued  by  a  light  mist,  or  is 
caught  in  the  fantastic  outline  of  a  little  cloud.  But  the 
general  effect  is  touched  with  a  deeper  solemnity  and  a  more 
splendid  iridescence ;  even  where  the  vapoui's  lie  thickest,  the 
red  rays  throb  through. 

But  the  proof  of  the  pudding  is  the  eating.     Let  us  take  North  and  his 
a  passage  at  random,  and  compare  the  sixteenth  century  Successors 
renderings  with  the  cold  perversions  of  a  later  age.     For 

^  Gustave  Lanson,  La  littirature  fran^aise  (1894),  p.  223. 

Ixxv 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 


INTRO- 
DUCTION 


The  Lang- 
hornes 


Dryden 


example,  Amyot  writes  ^  that  Pythagoras  '  apprivoisa  une 
'  aigle,  qu'il  feit  descendre  et  venir  a  luy  par  certaines  voix, 
'  ainsi  comme  elle  volait  en  Tair  dessus  sa  teste  "■ ;  in  North 
this  eagle  is  '  so  tame  and  gentle,  that  she  would  stoupe,  and 
'  come  down  to  him  by  certaine  voyees,  as  she  flewe  in  the 
'  ayer  over  his  head ' ;  while  in  an  accurate  modern,  Pytha- 
goras merely  '  tamed  an  eagle  and  made  it  alight  on  him.' 
The  earlier  creature  flies  like  a  bird  of  Jove,  but  the  later 
comes  down  like  a  brick.  The  Langhornes'  eagle  is  still 
more  precipitate,  their  Pythagoras  still   more  peremptory. 

*  That  philosopher ,"*  as  they  naturally  call  the  Greek,  '  had 
'  so  far  tamed  an  eagle  that  by  pronoimcing  certain  words 
'  he  could  stop  it  in  its  flight,  or  bring  it  down.'  Perhaps 
I  may  finish  at  once  with  the  Langhomes  by  referring  to 
their  description  of  Cleopatra  on  the  Cydnus.  They  open 
that  pageant,  made  glorious  for  ever  by  Amyot,  North,  and 
Shakespeare,  in  these  terms :  *  Though  she  had  received 
'  many  pressing  letters  of  invitation  from  Antony  and  his 
'  friends,  .  .  .  she  by  no  means  took  the  most  expeditious 

*  mode  of  travelling.'  Thus  the  Langhornes ;  and  they 
denounce  the  translation  called  Dryden's  ^  for  '  tame  and 
'  tedious,  without  elegance,  spirit,  or  precision ' !  Now,  it 
was  a  colossal  impertinence  to  put  out  the  Lives  among 
the  Greeklings  of  Grub  Street,  in  order  to  '  complete  the 
'  whole  in  a  year ' ;  but  it  must  be  noted  that,  after  North's, 
this^  is  still  the  only  version  that  can  be  read  without 
impatience.  Dryden's  hacks  were  not  artists,  but  neither 
were  they  prigs :  the  vocabulary  was  not  yet  a  charnel  of 
decayed  metaphor ;  and  if  they  missed  the  rapture  of  six- 
teenth century  rhythm,  they  had  not  bleached  the  colour, 
carded  the  texture,  and  ironed  the  surface  of  their  language 
to  the  well-glazed  insignificance  of  the  later  eighteenth 
century.  Their  Plutarch  is  no  longer  ^Tapped  in  the  royal 
robes  of  Amyot  and  North  ;    but  he  is  spared  the  cheap 

^  Niima  Pompilius. 

-  Corrected  and  revised  by  A.  H.  Clough,  1883. 

^  Dryden,  in  his  dedication  to  the  Duke  of  Ormonde  (1683),  spoke  of 
North  as  ungrammatical  and  ungraceful.     The  version  he  signed  was  *  exe- 
'  cuted  by  several  hands ' ;  but  with  his  name  on  the  title-page  it  displaced 
North's,  which  is  now  for  the  first  time  since  republished. 
Ixxvi 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

though  formal  tailoring  of  Dacier  and  the  Langhomes.     In      INTRO- 
our  own  time  there  have  been  translations  by  scholars  :  they    DUCTION 
are  useful  as  cribs,  but  they  do  not  pretend  to  charm.    Here, 
for  instance,  is  North'^s  funeral  of  Philopoemen  :  '  The  soul- 

*  diers  were  all  crowned  "with  garlandes  of  Laiu-ell  in  token 
'  of  victory,  not  withstanding  the  teares  ranne  downe  their 

*  cheekes  in  token  of  sorrowe,  and  they  led  their  enemies 
'  prisoners  shackled  and  chained.  The  funeral  pot  in  which 
'  were  Philipoemenes  ashes,  was  so  covered  with  garlands  of 
'  flowers,  nosegaies,  and  laces  that  it  could  scant  be  scene  or 
'  discerned/     And  here  is  the  crib :  '  There  one  might  see 

'  men  crowned  with  garlands  but  weeping  at  the  same  time,  A  Latter-day 

'  and  leading  along  his  enemies  in  chains.     The  vun  itself,  ^^^^ 

'  which  was  scarcely  to  be  seen  for  the  garlands  and  ribbons 

'  with  which  it  was  covered,'  etc.     Here,   too,  is  North's 

Demetrius  :  '  He  took  pleasure  of  Lamia,  as  a  man  would 

'  have  delight  to  heare  one  tell  tales,  when  he  hath  nothing 

'  else  to  doe,  or  is  desirous  to  sleep  :  but  indeede  when  he 

'  was  to  make  any  preparation  for  warre,  he  had  not  then 

'  ivey  at  his  darfs  end,  nor  had  his  helmet  perfumed,  nor 

'  came  not  out  of  ladies  closets,  pricked  and  princt  to  go  to 

'  battell :  but  he  let  all  dauncing  and  sporting  alone,  and 

'  became  as  the  poet  Euripides  saith, 

'  The  souldier  of  Mars,  cruell  and  bloodie. ' 

And  here  is  the  crib  :  '  He  only  dedicated  the  supei-fluity  of  his 
'  leisure  to  enjoyment,  and  used  his  Lamia,  like  the  mythical 
'  nightmare,  only  when  he  was  half  asleep  or  at  play.  When 
'  he  was  preparing  for  war,  no  ivy  wreathed  his  spear,  no 
'  perfume  scented  his  helmet,  nor  did  he  go  from  his  bed- 
'  chamber  to  battle  covered  with  finery.'  '  Dedicated  the 
'  superfluity  of  his  leisure ! '  At  such  a  jewel  the  Langhornes 
must  have  turned  in  envy  in  their  graves  !  But,  apart  from 
style,  modern  scholars  have  a  fetish  which  they  worship  to  A  Latter-day 
the  ruin  of  any  literary  claim.  Amyot  and  North  have  been  Fetish 
ridiculed  for  writing,  in  accordance  with  their  method,  of 
nuns  and  churches,  and  not  of  vestals  and  temples.  Yet  the 
opposite  extreme  is  far  more  fatiguing.     AVhere  is  the  sense 

Ixxvii 


INTRO- 
DUCTION 


The  German 
Unchained 


French  and 
English :  the 
Question  of 
Form 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

of  putting  '  chalkaspides '  in  the  text  and  '  soldiers  who  had 
'  shields  of  brass ""  in  the  notes  ?  Is  it  not  really  less  dis- 
tracting to  read,  as  in  North,  of  soldiers  '  marching  with 
'  their  copper  targets '  ?  So,  too,  with  the  Parthian  kettle- 
drums. It  is  an  injury  to  write  '  hollow  instruments'  in  so 
splendid  a  passage  ;  and  an  insult  to  add  in  a  note  '  the  con- 
'  text  seems  to  show  that  a  drum  is  meant.'  Of  course  ! 
And  '  kettle-drums '  is  a  perfect  equivalent  for  poirrpa,  '  made 
'  of  skin,  and  hollow,  which  they  stretch  round  brass  sounders.' 
But  if  these  things  are  done  in  England,  you  may  know  what 
to  expect  of  Germany.  In  the  picture  of  Cato's  suicide  there 
is  one  supreme  touch,  rendered  by  Plutarch  i]Br}  S'opvcOe^i 
■^Sov ;  by  Amyot  les  petits  oyseauw  commengoient  desja  a 
chanter  ;  by  North,  tlie  little  birds  began  to  chirpe.  But  Kalt- 
wasser  turns  the  little  birds  into  crowing  cocks  ;  and  main- 
tains his  position  by  a  learned  argument.  It  was  still,  says 
he,  in  the  night,  and  other  fowls  are  silent  until  dawn.^  If 
the  style  of  the  eighteenth  century  be  tedious,  the  scholar- 
ship of  the  nineteenth  is  intolerable.  The  truth  is  that  in 
the  sixteenth  alone  could  the  Lives  be  fitly  translated.  For 
there  were  passages,  as  of  the  arming  of  Greece,  in  the 
Philopaemen,  which  could  only  be  rendered  in  an  age  still 
accustomed  to  armour.  Any  modern  rendering,  be  it  by 
writer  or  by  don,  must  needs  be  archaistically  mediaeval  or 
pedantically  antique. 

Turning,  then,  to  Amyot  and  North,  the  strangest  thing 
to  note,  and  the  most  important,  is  that  the  English,  although 
without  a  touch  of  foreign  idiom,  is  modelled  closely  upon  the 
French.  Some  explanation  of  this  similarity  in  form  may  be 
found  in  the  nature  of  the  matter.  The  narration,  as  op- 
posed to  the  analysis,  of  action  ;  the  propounding,  as  opposed 
to  the  proof,  of  philosophy — these  are  readily  conveyed  from 
one  language  into  another,  and  Joshua  and  Ecclesiastes  are 
good  reading  in  most  versions  of  the  Bible.  But  North  is 
closer  to  Amyot  than  any  two  versions  of  the  Bible  are  to 
each  other.  The  French  runs  into  the  English  five  times  out 
of  six,  and  in  all  the  great  passages,  not  only  word  for  word 
but  almost  cadence  for  cadence.     There  is  a  trick  of  redun- 


Ixxviii 


^  See  Plutarch's  Lives  :  Stewart  and  Long,  in.  572. 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

dancy  in  Tudor  prose  that  makes  for  emphasis  and  melody.      INTRO- 
We  account  it  English,  and  find  it  abounding  in  our  Bible.    DUCTION 
It  is  wholly  alien  from  modem  French  prose — wholly  alien, 
too,  from  French  prose  of  the  seventeenth  century.     Indeed, 
I  would  go  further,  and  say  that  it  is  largely  characteristic  of 
Amyot  the  wTiter,  and  not  of  the  age  in  which  he  wrote.  Amyot's 
You  do  not  find  it,  for  instance,  in  the  prose  of  Joachim  du  Manner 
Bellay.^     But  now  take  North's  account  of  the  execution  ^^^  North  s 
before  Brutus  of  his  two  eldest  sons  ;  ^     '  which,'  you  read, 
'  was  such  a  pitieful  sight  to  all  people,  that  they  could  not 
'  find  it  in  their  hearts  to  beholde  it,  but  turned  themselves 
'  another  waye,  bicause  they  would  not  see  it.'     That  effec- 
tive repetition   is  word   for  word   in   the  French  :    '  qu'ilz 
'  n'avoient  pas  le  cueur  de  les  regarder,  ains  se  tournoient 
'  d'un  austre  coste  pom'  n'en  rien  veo'ir.''     But,  apart  from  re- 
dundancy, the  closeness  is  at  all  times  remarkable.     Consider  Points  of 
the  phrase :  '  but  to  go  on  quietly  and  joyfully  at  the  sound  Contrast 

*  of  these  pipes  to  hazard  themselves  even  to  death.'  ^  You 
would  swear  it  original,  but  here  is  the  French  :  '  ains  aller 
'  posement  et  joyeusement  au  son  des  instruments,  se  hazarder 
'  au  peril  de  la  mort.'  The  same  effect  is  produced  by  the 
same  rhythm.  Or,  take  the  burial  of  unchaste  vestals  :  * 
when  the  muffled  litter  passes,  the  people  '  follow  it  moum- 
'  ingly  with  heavy  looks  and  speake  never  a  word ' ;  '  avec  une 
'  chere  basse,  et  morne  sans  mot  dire ';  and  so  on,  in  identical 
rhythm,  to  the  end  of  that  magnificent  passage.  I  will  give 
one  longer  example,  from  the  return  of  Alcibiades.  You  read 
in  North  :  '  Those  that  could  come  near  him  dyd  welcome 
'  and  imbrace  him  :  but  all  the  people  wholly  followed  him  : 

*  And  some  that  came  to  him  put  garlands  of  flowers  upon  his 
'  head  :  and  those  that  could  not  come  neare  him,  sawe  him 
'  afarre  off",  and  the  olde  folkes  dyd  poynte  him  out  to  the 
'  younger  sorte.'  And  in  Amyot :  '  Ceulx  qui  en  pouvoient 
'  approcher  le  saluoient  et  I'embrassoient,  mais  tous  1'  accom- 

*  pagnoient ;  et  y  en  avoient  aucuns  qui  s'approchans  de  luy, 
'  luy  mettoient  des  chappeaux  de  fleurs  siu"  la  teste  et  ceulx 
'  qui  n'en  pouvoient  approcher,  le  regardoient  de  loing,  et  les 

^  Deffense  et  illustration  de  la  Langue  franfoise. 

^  Publicola.  ^  Lycurgus.  *  Numa. 

Ixxix 


INTRO- 
DUCTION 


Amyot's 
Influence  on 
Elizabethan 
English 


Antithesis 


Majesty  and 
Music 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

'  vieux  le  monstroient  aux  jeunes.'  Here  is  the  very  manner 
of  the  Authorised  Version  :  flowing  but  not  prolix,  full  but 
not  turgid.  Is  it,  then,  fanciful  to  suggest  that  Amyot's 
style,  evolved  from  the  inherent  difficulty  of  his  task,  was 
accepted  by  North  for  its  beauty,  and  used  by  the  translators 
of  the  Bible  for  its  fitness  to  an  undertaking  hard  for  similar 
reasons  and  in  a  similar  way  ?  Amyot  piles  up  his  epithets, 
and  links  one  varied  cadence  to  another :  yet  his  volume  is 
not  of  extravagant  utterance,  but  of  extreme  research.  He 
was  endeavouring  to  render  late  Greek  into  French  of  the 
Renaissance  ;  and  so  he  sought  for  perfect  expression  not 
— as  to-day — in  one  word  but  in  the  resultant  of  many. 
And  this  very  volume  of  utterance,  however  legitimate,  im- 
posed the  necessity  of  rhythm.  His  innumerable  words, 
if  they  were  not  to  weary,  must  be  strung  on  a  wire  of 
undulating  gold.  North  copied  this  cadence,  and  gave  a 
storehouse  of  expression  to  the  writers  of  his  time.  It 
seems  to  me,  therefore,  not  rash  to  trace,  through  North,  to 
Amyot  one  rivulet  of  the  many  that  fell  into  the  mighty 
stream  of  rhythm  flowing  through  the  classic  version  of  the 
English  Bible. 

But  North  and  Amyot  are  not  men  of  one  trick :  they 
can  be  terse  and  antithetical  when  they  will.  You  read 
that  Themistocles  advanced  the  honour  of  the  Athenians, 
making  them  '  to  overcome  their  enemies  by  force,  and  their 
'  friends  and  allies  with  liberality ' ;  in  Amyot :  '  Vaincre 
'  leurs  ennemies  en  prouesse,  et  leiurs  alhez  et  amis  en 
'  bonte ' !  North  can  play  this  tune  as  well  as  any  :  e.g.^ 
'  If  they,'  Plutarch's  heroes,  '  have  done  this  for  heathen 
'  Kings,  what  should  we  doe  for  Christian  Princes  "i  If  they 
'  have  done  this  for  glorye,  what  shoulde  we  doe  for  religion  "i 
'  If  thev  have  done  this  without  hope  of  heaven,  what  should 
'  we  doe  that  looke  for  immortalitie  ? '  ^  But  he  can  play 
other  tunes  too.  Much  is  now  \vi'itten  of  the  development 
of  the  sentence ;  and  no  doubt  since  the  decadence  advances 
have  been  made.  Yet,  in  the  main,  they  are  to  recover  a 
territory  wilfully  abandoned.  In  North  and  Amyot  there 
are  sentences  of  infinite  device — sentences  numerous  and  har- 


Ixxx 


^  Dedication  to  Elizabeth. 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

monic  beyond  the  dreams  of  Addison  and  Swift.  I  will  INTRO- 
give  some  examples.  Amyot:  '  S'eblouissant  a  regarder  une  DUCTION 
'  telle  splendeur,  et  se  perdant  a  sonder  un  tel  abysme.'' 
That  is  fine  enough,  but  North  beats  it :  '  Dazeled  at  the 
'  beholding  of  such  brightnesse,  and  confounded  at  the  gaging 
'  of  so  bottomlesse  a  deepe.''  ^  Amyot :  '  Ne  plus  ne  moins 
'  que  si  c'eust  este  quelque  doulce  haleine  d\ui  vent  salubre 
'  et  gracieu  qui  leur  eust  souffle  du  coste  de  Rome  pour 
'  les  rafreshir.'  And  North :  '  As  if  some  gentle  ayer  had  North's 
'  breathed  on  them  by  some  gracious  and  healthful!  wind,  Superiority 
*  blowen  from  Rome  to  refresh  them.'^  No  translation  could  ^^^ 
be  closer ;  yet  in  the  first  example  North's  English  is  stronger 
than  the  French,  and  in  the  second  it  flows,  like  the  air, 
with  a  more  ineffable  ease.  Take,  again,  the  account  of 
the  miracle  witnessed  during  the  battle  of  Salamis.  Here 
is  Amyot :  '  que  Von  ouit  une  haulte  voix  et  grande  clameur 
'  par  toute  la  plaine  Thrasiene  jusques  a  la  mer,  comme  s'il  y 
'  eust  eu  grand  nomhre  dliommes  qui  ensemble  eussent  a  haulte 
'  voix  chante  le  sacre  cantique  de  lacchus,  et  semhloit  que  de 
'  la  multitude  de  ceidx  qui  chantoient  il  se  levast  petit  a  petit 
'  tme  nuee  en  Fair,  laquelle  partant  de  la  terre  venoit  a 
''Jondre  et  tumher  sur  les  galeres  en  la  mer.''  And  here  is 
North :  '  that  a  lowde  voyce  was  heard  through  all  the 
'  plaine  of  Thriasia  unto  the  sea,  as  if  there  had  bene  a 
'  number  of  men  together,  that  had  songe  out  alowde,  the 
'  holy  songe  of  lacchus.  And  it  seemed  by  litle  and  litle 
'  that  there  rose  a  clowde  in  the  ayer  from  those  which 
'  sange :  that  left  the  land,  and  came  and  lighted  on  the 
'  gallyes  in  the  sea.**  I  have  put  into  italics  so  much  of 
Amyot  as  North  renders  word  for  word.  His  fidelity  is 
beyond  praise ;  but  the  combination  of  such  fidelity  Avith 
perfect  and  musical  expression  is  no  less  than  a  miracle 
of  artistry.  North,  in  this  passage  as  elsewhere,  not  only 
writes  more  beautiful  English :  he  gives,  also,  a  descrip- 
tion of  greater  completeness  and  clarity  than  you  will  find 
in  any  later  version  of  Plutarch.  The  elemental  drama 
transfigures  his  prose ;  but  every  fact  is  realised,  every 
sensuous  impression  is  set  down,  and  set  down  in  its  order. 
^  Amyot :  Atix  Lecteurs.  -  Nittna. 

I  Ixxxi 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

INTRO-  So  much  may  be  said,  too,  of  Amyot;  but  in  his  rendering 
DUCTION  you  are  aware  of  the  words  and  the  construction — in  fact, 
of  the  author.  In  North's  there  is  but  the  pageant  of  the 
sky ;  there  is  never  a  restless  sound  to  disturb  the  illusion ; 
the  cadence  is  sublimated  of  all  save  a  delicate  alliteration, 
tracing  its  airy  rhythm  to  the  ear.  The  work  is  full  of  such 
effects,  some  of  simple  melody,  and  others  of  more  than 
contrapuntal  involution ;  for  he  commands  his  English  as  a 

His  Mastery    skilled  organist  his  organ,  knowing  the  multitude  of  its  re- 

of  English  sources,  and  drawing  at  need  upon  them  all.  Listen  to  his 
rendering  of  Pericles'  sorrow  for  his  son  :  '  Neither  saw  they 
'  him  weepe  at  any  time  nor  mourne  at  the  funeralles  of  any 
'  of  his  kinsmen  or  friendes,  but  at  the  death  of  Paralus,  his 
'  younger  and  lawful  begotten  sonne :  for,  the  losse  of  him 
'  alone  dyd  only  melt  his  harte.  Yet  he  dyd  strive  to 
'  showe  his  naturall  constancie,  and  to  keepe  his  accustomed 
'  modestie.  But  as  he  woulde  have  put  a  garland  of  flowers 
'  upon  his  head,  sorrowe  dyd  so  pierce  his  harte  when  he 
'  sawe  his  face,  that  then  he  burst  out  in  teares  and  cryed 
'  amaine ;  which  they  never  saw  him  doe  before  all  the 
'  dayes  of  his  life.''  Yes,  the  pathos  of  the  earth  is  within 
his  compass ;  but  he  can  also  attain  to  the  sublimity  of 
heaven :  '  The  everlasting  seate,  which  trembleth  not,  and 
'  is  not  driven  nor  moved  with  windes,  neither  is  darkened 
'  with  clowdes,  but  is  allwayes  bright  and  cleare,  and  at  all 
'  times  shyning  with  a  pure  bright  light,  as  being  the  only 
'  habitation  and  mansion  place  of  the  eternall  God,  only 
'  happy  and  immortall."  ^ 

These  two  passages  from  the  last  movement  of  the  Pericles 
can  only  be  spoken  of  in  North's  own  language :  they  are 
'  as  stoppes  and  soundes  of  the  soul  played  upon  with  the 
'  fine  fingered  hand  of  a  conning  master.' ^     Yet  they  are 

His  Debt  to     modelled   on    Amyot's   French.     It   seems   scarce   credible ; 

Amyot  and  indeed,  if  the  mould  be  the  same,  the  metal  has  been 

transmuted.  You  feel  that  much  has  been  added  to  the 
form  so  faithfully  followed ;  that  you  are  listening  to  an 
English   master    of   essentially   English    prose.     For   these 

1  Amyot  :   '  Comme   estant   telle   habitation   et   convenable  a  la  nature 
'  souverainement  heureuse  et  immortelle.'  "  Pericles. 

Ixxxii 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

passages  are  in  tlie  tradition  of  our  tongue:  the  first  gives      INTRO- 
an  echo  of  Malory's  stately  pathos,  and  the  second  an  earnest    DUCTION 
of  our  Apocalypse.     In  building  up  these  palaces  of  music 
North  has  followed  the  lines  of  Amyofs  construction ;  but 
his  melody  in  the  first  is  sweeter,  his  harmony  in  the  second 
peals  out  with  a  loftier  rapture. 

I  have  dwelt  upon  the  close  relation  of  North's  style  to 
Amyot's,  because  it  is  the  rule,  and  because  it  has  a  bearing 
on  the  development  of  Tudor  prose.     This  rule  of  likeness 
seems  to  me  worthier  of  note  than  any  exceptions ;  both  for 
the  strangeness  and  the  importance.     But,  of  course,  there 
are  exceptions :  there  are  traits,  of  attitude  and  of  expres-  Exceptions  to 
sion,  personal  to  North  the  man  and  the  writer.     He  has  a  North's  Rule 
national  leaning  towards  the  sturdy  and   the  bluff".     In  a 
sonnet  written  some  twenty  years  earlier,  Du  Bellay,  giving 
every  nation  a  particular  epithet,  labels  our  forefathers  for 
'  les  Anglais  mutins.""     The  epithet  is  chosen  by  an  enemy ; 
but  there  was  ever  in  the  English  temper,  above  all,  in  the 
roaring  days  of  great  Elizabeth,  a  certain  jovial   froward- 
ness,   by   far   removed    both    from   impertinence   and   from 
bluster,  which  inclined   us,  as  we  should   put  it,  to  stand 
no  nonsense  from  anybody.     This  national  characteristic  is  His  Sturdi- 
strongly   marked    in    North.     For   him    Spartacus   and    his  ness 
slaves  are  'rebellious  rascals.'     When  Themistocles  boasts 
of  being  able  to  make  a  small  city  great,  though  he  can- 
not, indeed,  tune  a  viol  or  play  of  the  psalterion,  Amyot 
calls  his  words  'un  peu  haultaines  et  odieuses':  they  are  re- 
pugnant to  the  cultured  prelate,  and  he  gives  a  full  equi- 
valent for  the  censure  of  Plutarch,  the  cultured  Greek.^     But 
North  will  not  away  with  this  censure  of  a  bluff'  retort : 
having  his  bias,  he  deliberately  betrays  his  original,  making 
Themistocles  answer  '  with  great  and  stout  words.'     There  His  Sense  of 
is  also  in  North's  character  a  strain  of  kindness,  almost  of  Pathos 
softness,  towards  women  and  children  and  the  pathetic  side 
of  life.     In  the  wonderful  passage  describing  the  living  burial 
of  unchaste  vestals,^  where  almost  every  other  word  is  liter- 

^  The  Greek  epithet  is  rendered  by  the  word  arrogant  in  Clough's  revised 
Dryden,  and  by  the  word  vulgar  in  Mr.  Stewart's  translation. 
*  Nutna. 

Ixxxiii 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

INTRO-  ally  translated,  North  turns  'la  criminelle"'  into  'the  seely 
DUCTION  '  offendour ' :  as  it  were  with  a  gracious  reminiscence  of 
Chaucer's  '  ne  me  ne  list  this  seely  woman  chide.'  And  in 
the  Solon^  where  a  quaint  injunction  is  given  for  preserving 
love  in  wedlock,  Amyot  writes  that  so  courteous  a  custom, 
being  observed  by  a  husband  towards  his  wife,  '  garde  que 
'  les  courages  et  vouluntez  ne  s'alienent  de  tout  poinct  les 
'  uns  des  autres.'  (The  phrase  is  rendered  in  a  modern 
version  'preventing  their  leading  to  actual  quarrel.')  But 
North  lifts  the  matter  above  the  level  of  laughter  or 
puritanical  reproach :  it  '  keepeth,'  as  he  writes,  '  love  and 
'  good  will  waking,  that  it  die  not  utterly  between  them.' 
The  beauty  and  gentleness  of  these  words,  in  so  strange  a 
context,  are,  you  feel,  inspired  by  chivalry  and  a  deep  rever- 
ence for  women.  These  two  strains  in  North's  character 
find  vent  in  his  expression ;  but  they  never  lead  him  far 
from  the  French.  There  is  an  insistence,  but  no  more, 
on  all  things  gentle  and  brave  ;  and  this  insistence  goes 
but  to  further  a  tendency  already  in  Amyot.  For  in 
that  age  the  language  of  gentlemen  received  a  like  impress 
in  both  countries  from  their  common  standards  of  courage 
Amyot, Northland  courtesy;  and  among  gentlemen,  Amyot  and  North 
and  Plutarch  seem  to  have  been  drawn  yet  closer  to  each  other  by  a 
common  kinship  with  the  brave  and  gentle  soul  of  Plutarch. 
These  two  qualities  which  are  notable  in  Plutarch  and 
Amyot  in  all  such  passages,  lead  in  North  to  a  distinct 
exaggeration  of  phrase,  though  ever  in  the  direction  of 
their  true  intent.  He  makes  grim  things  grimmer,  and 
sweet  things  more  sweet.  So  that  the  double  translation 
from  the  Greek  gives  the  effect  of  a  series  of  contours 
traced  the  one  above  the  other,  and  ever  increasing  the 
curve  of  the  lowest  outline. 
His  Vigour  But  North,  being  no  sentimentalist,  finds  occasion  for  fifty 

of  Phrase  stout  words  against  one  soft  saying.  The  stark  vigour  of 
his  diction  is,  indeed,  its  most  particular  sig-n.  The  profit 
to  the  Greeks  of  a  preliminary  fight  before  Salamis  is  thus 
declared  by  Amyot :  it  proved  '  que  la  grande  multitude  des 
'  vaisseaux,  ny  la  pompe  et  magnificence  des  parements 
'  d'iceulx,  ny  les  cris  superbes  et  chants  de  victoire  des  Bar- 
Ixxxiv 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

'  bares,  ne  servent  de  rien  a  Tencontre  de  ceulx  qui  ont  le  INTRO- 
'  cueur  de  joindre  de  pres,  et  combattre  a  coups  de  main  leur  DUCTION 
'  ennemy,  et  qiiil  ne  fault  pointjaire  compte  de  tout  cela,  ains 
'  aller  droit  affronter  les  hommes  et  s'attacher  hardiment  a 
'  eulx.''  North  follows  closely  for  a  time,  but  in  the  last 
sentence  he  lets  out  his  language  to  the  needs  of  a  maxim  so 
pertinent  to  a  countryman  of  Drake.  The  Greeks  saw,  says  and  Lusti- 
he,  '  that  it  was  not  the  gTeat  multitude  of  shippes,  nor  the  "ess  of 
'  pomp  and  sumptuous  setting  out  of  the  same,  nor  the  Sentiment 
'  prowde  barbarous  showts  and  songes  of  victory  that  could 
'  stand  them  to  purpose,  against  noble  hartes  and  valliant 
'  minded  souldiers,  that  durst  grapple  with  them,  and  come 
'  to  hand  strokes  with  their  enemies :  and  that  they  should 
'  viake  no  reckoning  of  all  that  bravery  and  hragges,  but 
'  should  sticke  to  it  like  men,  and  laye  it  on  the  jacks  of  them.'' 
The  knight  who  was  to  captain  his  three  hundred  men  in 
the  Armada  year,  has  the  pull  here  over  the  bishop ;  and  on 
occasion  he  has  always  such  language  at  command.  'Les 
'  autres  qui  estoient  demourez  a  Rome ''  instead  of  marching 
to  the  war  ^  are  '  the  home-taiTiers  and  house-doves ' :  up- 
braided elsewhere  ^  because  they  '  never  went  from  the  smoke 
'  of  the  chimney  nor  can'ied  away  any  blowes  in  the  field."* 
When  Philopoemen,  wounded  with  a  dart  that  '  pierced  both 
'  thighes  thi'ough  and  through,  that  the  iron  was  scene  on 
'  either  side,"  saw  '  the  fight  terrible,"  and  that  it  '  woulde 
'  soon  be  ended,"'  you  read  in  Amyot  '  qu'il  perdoit  patience 
'  de  despit,"'  but  in  North  that  '  it  spited  him  to  the  guttes, 
'  he  would  so  faine  have  bene  among  them.""  The  phrase  is 
born  of  sympathy  and  conviction.  North,  too,  has  a  fine 
impatience  of  fools.  Hannibal,  discovering  the  error  of  his 
guides,  '  les  feit  pendre  "■  in  Amyot ;  in  North  he  '  roundely 
'  trussed  them  up  and  honge  them  by  the  neckes."'  ^  And 
he  is  not  sparing  in  his  censure  of  ill-livers.  Phcea,  you  read 
in  the  Theseus, '  was  surnamed  a  sowe  for  her  beastly  brutishe 
'  behavioui",  and  wicked  life.''  He  can  be  choleric  as  well  as 
kindly,  and  never  minces  his  words. 

Apart   from    those   expressions   which    spring    fi'om    the 
idiosyncrasy  of  his  temperament,  North's  style  shares  to  the 
^  Cotiolanus.  -  Fabius  Maximus.  ^  Ibid. 

Ixxxv 


LIVES    OF   THE   NOBLE 


INTRO- 
DUCTION 


His  Vocabu- 
lary 


Proverbs  and 
Images 


full  in  the  general  glory  of  Elizabethan  prose.  You  read  of 
'fretised  seelings,"*^  of  words  that  'dulce  and  soften  the 
'  hardened  harts  of  the  multitude ' ;  ^  of  the  Athenians 
'  being  set  on  a  jolitie  to  see  themselves  strong.'  Heads 
are  'passhed  in  peces,'  and  men  'ashamed  to  cast  their 
'  honour  at  their  heeles'  (Amyot:  'd'abandonner  leur  gloire '). 
Themistocles"'  father  shows  him  the  '  shipwracks  and  ribbes 
'  (Amyot :  '  les  corps  "*)  of  olde  gallyes  cast  here  and  there.' 
You  have,  '  pluck  out  of  his  head  the  worm  of  ambition '  ^ 
for  '  oster  de  sa  fantasie  Tambition "" ;  and  Caesar  on  the 
night  before  his  death  hears  Calpurnia,  '  being  fast  asleep, 
*  weepe  and  sigh,  and  put  forth  many  fumhling  lamentable 
'  speeches.''  But  in  particular,  North  is  richer  than  even  his 
immediate  followers  in  homespun  images  and  proverbial 
locutions.  Men  who  succeed,  '  bear  the  bell ' ;  *  '  tenter  la 
'  fortune  le  premier "*  is  'to  breake  the  ise  of  this  enter- 
'  prise.'  ^  Coriolanus  by  his  pride  '  stirred  coales  emong  the 
'  people.'  The  Spartans  who  thwailed  Themistocles  '  dyd 
'  sit  on  his  skirtes ' ;  and  the  Athenians  fear  Pericles  because 
in  voice  and  manner  '  he  was  Pisistratus  up  and  downe.'  The 
Veians  let  fall  their  '  peacockes  bravery ' ;  ^  and  a  man  when 
pleased  is  'as  merry  as  a  pye.'*^  Raw  recruits  are  'fresh- 
'  water  souldiers.'  A  turncoat  carries  '  two  faces  in  one 
'  hoode ' ;  ^  and  the  Carthaginians,  being  outwitted,  are 
'  ready  to  eate  their  fingers  for  spyte.'  The  last  locution 
occurs  also  in  North's  Morall  PhilosopMe  of  1570 :  he 
habitually  used  such  expressions,  and  yet  others  which  are 
truly  proverbs,  common  to  many  languages.  For  instance, 
he  wi'ites  in  the  Camillus,  '  these  words  made  Brennus  mad  as 
'  a  March  Hare  that  out  went  his  blade ' ;  in  Cato  Utican 
'  to  set  all  at  six  and  seven ' ;  in  Solon  '  so  sweete  it  is 
'  to  rule  the  roste ' ;  in  Pelopidas  '  to  hold  their  noses  to 
'  the  gryndstone  ' ;  in  Cicero,  with  even  greater  incongruity, 
of  his  wife  Terentia  '  wearing  her  husbandes  breeches.' 
In  the  Alcibiades,  the  Athenians  '  upon  his  persuasion, 
'  built  castles  in  the  ayer ' ;  and  this  last  has  been  referred  to 


^  Lycurgus.  -  Publicola. 

*  The  old  prize  for  a  racehorse. 
«  Camillus.  7  jhid, 

Ixxxvi 


'  Solon. 
^  Piiblicola. 
*  Tinioleon. 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

Sidney's   Apologue ;    but    the    first   known    edition    of  the      INTRO- 

Apologie  is  dated  1595,  and  it  is  supposed  to  have  been    DUCTION 

written  about  1581 ;    North  has  it  not  only  in  the  Lives 

(1579),  but  in  his  Morall  Philosophie  of  1570.1     To  North, 

too,  we  may  perhaps  attribute  some  of  the  popularity  in 

England  of  engaging  jingles,     '  Pritle  pratle '  and  '  topsie  His  Jingles 

'  turvie '  occur  both  in  the  Lives  and  the  Morall  Philosophie. 

And  in  the  Lives  you  have  also  '  spicke  and  spanne  newe "" ;  ^ 

with  '  hurly  burly ""  and  '  pel  mel,'  adopted  by  Shakespeare  in 

Macbeth  and  Richard  III.     Since  North  takes  the  last  from 

Amyot  and  explains  it — '  fled  into  the  camp  pel  mel  or  hand 

'  over  heade' — and  since  it  is  of  French  derivation — pelle- 

mesle  = '  to  mix  with  a  shovel ' — it  is  possible  that  the  phrase 

is  here  used  for  the  first  time. 

Gathered  together,  these  peculiarities  of  style  seem  His  Style 
many ;  and  yet  in  truth  they  are  few.  They  are  the  merest  and  its 
accidents  in  a  great  stream  of  rhythm.  That  stream  flows  Accidents 
steadily  and  superbly  through  a  channel  of  another  man's 
digging.  For  North's  style  is  Amyofs,  divided  into  shorter 
periods,  strengthened  with  racy  locutions,  and  decked  with 
Elizabethan  tags.  In  English  such  division  was  necessary : 
the  rhythm,  else,  of  the  weightier  language  had  gained  such 
momentum  as  to  escape  control.  But  even  so  North's 
English  is  neither  cramped  nor  pruned  :  it  is  still  unfettered 
by  antithesis  and  prodigal  of  display.  His  periods,  though 
shorter  than  Amyot's,  in  themselves  are  leisurely  and  long. 
There  is  room  in  them  for  fine  words  and  lofty  phrases ;  and 
these  go  bragging  by,  the  one  following  a  space  after  the 
other,  like  cars  in  an  endless  pageant.  The  movement  of 
his  procession  rolls  on  :  yet  he  halts  it  at  pleasure,  to  soften 
sorrow  with  a  gracious  saying,  or  to  set  a  flourish  on  the 
bravery  of  his  theme. 

IV 

The  earliest  tribute  to  the  language  of  Amyot  and  North 
was  the  highest  that  has  ever,  or  can  ever,  be  paid ;  both  for 

^  Fables  of  Bidpai,  1888,  p.  II. 

-  Paidiis  ^milius  ;  in  a  gorgeous  description  of  the  Macedonian  phalanx  ; 
from  spick  =  a  spike,  and  span  =  a  splinter. 

Ixxxvii 


INTRO- 
DUCTION 


North's 

Debtor-in- 

Chief 


The  Roman 
Plays 


Coriolanus 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

its  own  character  and  the  authority  of  those  who  gave  it. 
For  Montaigne,  the  greatest  literary  genius  in  France 
during  the  sixteenth  century,  wrote  thus  of  Aymot :  '  Nous 
'  estions  perdus,  si  ce  livre  ne  nous  eust  tires  du  bourbier : 
'  sa  mercy,  nous  osons  a  cette  heure  parler  et  escrire  "* ;  ^ 
and  Shakespeare,  the  first  poet  of  all  time,  borrowed  three 
plays  almost  wholly  from  North.  I  do  not  speak  of  A 
Midsummer  Niglifs  Dream  and  The  Two  Noble  Kinsmen^ 
for  each  of  which  a  little  has  been  gleaned  from  North''s 
Theseus  \  nor  of  the  Timon  of  Alliens^  although  here  the 
debt  is  larger.^  The  wit  of  Apemantus,  the  Apologue  of 
the  Fig-tree,  and  the  two  variants  of  Timon's  epitaph,  are 
all  in  North.  Indeed,  it  was  the  '  rich  conceit ''  of  Timon's 
tomb  by  the  sea-shore  which  touched  Shakespeare's  imagi- 
nation, as  it  had  touched  Antony's ;  so  that  some  of  the 
restricted  passion  of  North's  Antonms^  which  bursts  into 
showers  of  meteoric  splendour  in  the  Fourth  and  Fifth  Acts 
of  Shakespeare's  Antony  and  Cleopatra^  beats  too,  in  the 
last  lines  of  his  Timon,  with  a  rhythm  as  of  billows  : 

'  yet  rich  conceit 
Taught  thee  to  make  vast  Neptune  weep  for  aye 
On  thy  low  grave,  on  faults  forgiven, ' 

But  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  as  in  Coriolanus  and  in  Julius 
Ccesar,  Shakespeare's  obligation  is  apparent  in  almost  all  he 
has  written.  To  measure  it  you  must  quote  the  bulk  of  the 
three  plays.  '  Of  the  incident,'  Trench  has  said,  '  there  is 
'  almost  nothing  which  he  does  not  owe  to  Plutarch,  even 
'  as  continually  he  owes  the  very  wording  to  Sir  Thomas 
'  North' ;^  and  he  follows  up  this  judgment  with  so  detailed 
an  analysis  of  the  Julius  Casar  that  I  shall  not  attempt  to 
labour  the  same  ground.  As  regards  the  Coriolanus,  it  was 
noted,  even  by  Pope,  'that  the  whole  history  is  exactly 
'  followed,  and  many  of  the  principal  speeches  exactly  copied, 
'  from  the  life  of  Coriolanus  in  Plutarch.'  This  exactitude, 
apart  from  its  intrinsic  interest,  may  sometimes  assist  in 

1  Essais,  II.  iv, 

-  It  is  founded  on  one  passage  in  the  Alcibiades  and  another  in  the  Antony. 
'  Plutarch.     Five  Lectures,  p.  66. 
Ixxxviii 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

restoring  a  defective  passage.     One  such  piece  there  is  in      INTRO- 
II.  iii.  231  of  the  Cambridge  Shakespeare,  1865  :  DUCTION 

'  The  noble  hoiise  o  the  Marcians,  from  whence  came 
That  Ancus  Marcius,  Numa's  daughter  s  son, 
Who,  after  great  Hostilius,  here  wa^  king ; 
Of  the  same  house  Fublius  and  Quintus  were. 
That  our  best  water  brought  by  conduits  hither. ' 

The  Folios  here  read  : 


'  And  Nobly  nam'd^  so  twice  being  Censor, 
Was  his  great  Ancestor.' 


It  is  evident  that,  after  '  hither,'  a  line  has  been  lost,  and  A  Lost  Line 
Rowe,  Pope,  Delius,  and  others  have  tried  their  best  to 
recapture  it.  Pope,  knowing  of  Shakespeare'*s  debt  and 
founding  his  emendation  on  North,  could  suggest  nothing 
better  than  'And  Censorinus,  darling  of  the  people';  while 
Delius,  still  more  strangely,  stumbled,  as  I  must  think, 
on  the  right  reading,  but  for  the  inadequate  reason  that 
'  darling  of  the  people '  does  not  sound  like  Shakespeare.  I 
have  given  in  italics  the  words  taken  from  North :  and, 
applying  the  same  method  to  the  line  suggested  by  Delius, 
you  read :  '  And  Censorinus  that  was  so  surnamed,''  then, 
in  the  next  line,  by  merely  shifting  a  comma,  you  read  on : 
'  And  nobly  named  so,  twice  being  CensorS  Had  Delius 
pointed  out  that  he  got  his  line  simply  by  following 
Shakespeare's  practice  of  taking  so  many  of  North's  words, 
in  their  order,  as  would  fall  into  blank  verse,  his  emendation 
must  surely  have  been  accepted,  since  it  involves  no  change 
in  the  subsequent  lines  of  the  Folios ;  whereas  the  Cambridge 
Shakespeare  breaks  one  line  into  two,  and  achieves  but  an 
awkward  result : 

'  And  [Censorinus]  nobly  named  so, 
Twice  being  [by  the  people  chosen]  censor. ' 

The  closeness  of  Shakespeare's  rendering,  indicated  by  this  The  Sum  of 
use  of  italics,  is  not  particular  to  this  passage,  but  is  universal  Shakespeare's 
throughout  the  play.     Sometimes  he  gives  a  conscious  turn  ^^^* 
to  North's  unconscious  humour :  as  when,  in  the  Parable  of 
the  Belly  and  the  Members,  North  writes,  '  And  so  the  bellie, 
"*  Ixxxix 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

INTRO-      '  all  this  notwithstanding  laughed  at  their  follie ' ;  and  Shake- 

DUCTION   spcarc  writes  in  i.  i.,  'For,  look  you,  I  may  make  the  belly 

'  smile  As  well  as  speak.'     At  others  his  fidelity  leads  him 

into  an  anachronism.     North  writes  of  Coriolanus  that  '  he 

'  was  even  such  another,  as  Cato  would  have  a  souldier  and  a 

'  captaine  to  be :  not  only  temble  and  fierce  to  laye  aboute 

'  him,  but  to  make  the  enemie  afeard  with  the  sound  of  his 

'  voyce  and  grimness  of  his  countenance.*"     And  Shakespeare, 

An  Aiiachron-  with  a  frank  disregard  for  chronology,  gives  the  speech,  Cato 

ism  and  all,  to  Titus  Lartius  (i.  iv.  57) : 

'  Thou  wast  a  soldier 
Even  to  Cato's  wish,  not  fierce  and  terrible 
Only  in  strokes  ;  but  with  thy  grim  looks  and 
The  thunder-like  percussion  of  thy  sounds^, 
Thou  mad'st  thine  enemies  shake/ 

But  perhaps  the  most  curious  evidence  of  the  degree   to 
which  Shakespeare  steeped  himself  in  North  is  to  be  found 
in  passages  where  he  borrowed  North's  diction  and  applied  it 
A  Borrowed     to  new  purposes.     For  instance,  in  North  '  a  goodly  horse 
Palette  t  with  a  capparison '  is  offered  to  Coriolanus ;  in  Shakespeare, 

at  the  same  juncture,  Lartius  says  of  him  : 

'  O  General, 
Here  is  the  steed,  we  the  caparison. ' 

Shakespeare,  that  is,  not  only  copies  North's  pictm-e,  he  also 
uses  North's  palette.  Throughout  the  play  he  takes  the 
incidents,  the  images,  and  the  very  words  of  North.  You 
read  in  North  :  '  More  over  he  sayed  they  nourished  against 
'  themselves,  the  naughty  seede  and  cockle  of  insolencie  and 
'  sedition,  which  had  been  sowed  and  scattered  abroade 
'  amongst  the  people.'     And  in  Shakespeare,  iii.  i.  69  : 

'  In  soothing  them  we  nourish  'gainst  our  senate 
The  cockle  of  rebellion,  insolence,  sedition, 
Which  we  ourselves  have  plough'd  for,  sow'd  and  scatter' d.' 

Of  course  it  is  not  argued  that  Shakespeare  has  not  contri- 
buted much  of  incalculable  worth  :  the  point  is  that  he  found 
a  vast  deal  which  he  needed  not  to  change.     When  Shake- 
speare adds,  IV.  vii.  33 : 
xc 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

'  I  think  he  '11  be  to  Rome  INTRO- 

As  is  the  osprey  to  the  fish,  who  takes  it  DUCTION 

By  sovereignty  of  nature/ 

he  is  turning  prose  into  poetry.  When  he  creates  the 
character  of  Menenius  Agrippa  from  North's  allusion  to 
'  certaine  of  the  plesauntest  olde  men,'  he  is  turning  narra- 
tive into  drama,  as  he  is,  too,  in  his  development  of  Volumnia,  Transfigura- 
from  a  couple  of  references  and  one  immortal  speech.  But  ^i^" 
these  additions  and  developments  can  in  no  way  minimise 
the  fact  that  he  takes  from  North  that  speech,  and  the  two 
others  which  are  the  pivots  of  the  play,  as  they  stand. 
There  is  the  one  in  which  Coriolanus  discovers  himself  to 
Aufidius.  I  take  it  from  the  Cambridge  Shakespeare,  and 
print  the  actual  borrowings  in  italics  (iv.  v.  53) : 

'  Cob.  (Unmuffling)  If,  Tullus, 

Not  yet  thou  knowest  me,  and,  seeing  me,  dost  not 

Think  me  for  the  man  I  am,  necessity 

Commands  me  to  name  myself,  ... 

My  name  is  Caius  Marcius,  who  hath  done 

To  thee  particularly,  and  to  all  the  Volsces, 

Great  hurt  and  mischief;  thereto  witness  may 

My  surname,  Coriolanus :  the  painful  service. 

The  extreme  dangers,  and  the  drops  of  blood 

Shed  for  my  thankless  country,  are  requited 

But  with  that  surname ;  a  good  memory. 

And  witness  of  the  malice  and  displeasure 

Which  thou  shouldst  bear  me  :  only  that  name  remains  ; 

The  cruelty  and  envy  of  the  people. 

Permitted  by  our  dastard  nobles,  who 

Have  allybrsook  me,  hath  devour'd  the  rest ; 

And  suifer'd  me  by  the  voice  of  slaves  to  be 

Whoop'd  out  of  Rome.     Now,  this  extremity 

Hath  brought  me  to  thy  hearth  :  not  out  of  hope — 

Mistake  me  not — to  save  my  life,  for  if 

I  hadfear'd  death,  of  all  men  i'  the  world 

I  would  have  voided  thee  ;  but  in  mere  spite 

To  be  full  quit  of  those  my  banishers. 

Stand  I  before  thee  here.     Then  if  thou  hast 

A  heart  of  wreak  in  thee,  that  wilt  revenge 

Thine  own  particular  wrongs  and  stop  those  maims 

Of  shame  seen  through  thy  country,  speed  thee  straight. 

And  make  my  misery  serve  thy  turn  :  so  use  it 

That  my  revengeful  services  may  prove 

As  benefits  to  thee  ;  for  I  will  fight 

xci 


INTRO- 
DUCTION 


Parallels  and 
Correspond- 
ences 


LIVES    OF    THE    NOBLE 

Against  my  canker'd  country  with  the  spleen 
Of  all  the  under  fiends.     But  if  so  be 
Thou  darest  not  this  and  that  to  prove  more  fortunes 
Thou  'rt  tired,  then,  in  a  word,  /  also  am 
Longer  to  live  most  weary.' 

The  second,  which  is  Volumnia's  (v.  iii.  94),  is  too  long  for 
quotation.     It  opens  thus  : 

'  Should  we  be  silent  and  not  speak,  our  raiment 
And  state  of  bodies  would  bewray  what  life 
We  have  led  since  thy  exile.     Think  with  thyself 
How  more  unfortunate  than  all  living  women 
Are  we  come  hither ' ; 

and  here,  to  illustrate  Shakespeare's  method  of  rhythmical 
condensation,  is  the  corresponding  passage  in  North.  '  If 
'  we  helde  our  peace  (my  sonne)  and  determined  riot  to  speake, 
'  the  state  of  our  poore  bodies,  and  present  sight  of  our  rai- 
'  ment,  would  easily  bewray  to  thee  what  life  we  have  led  at 
'  home,  since  thy  exile  and  abode  abroad.  But  thinJce  now 
'  with  thyself  howe  much  more  unfortunately,  then  all  the 
'  women  livinge  we  are  come  hether.''  I  have  indicated  by 
italics  the  words  that  are  common  to  both,  but  even  so,  I 
can  by  no  means  show  the  sum  of  Shakespeare's  debt,  or  so 
much  as  hint  at  the  peculiar  glory  of  Sir  Thomas's  prose. 
There  is  no  mere  question  of  borrowed  language ;  for  North 
and  Shakespeare  have  each  his  own  excellence,  of  prose  and  of 
verse.  Shakespeare  has  taken  over  North's  vocabulary,  and 
that  is  much  ;  but  it  is  more  that  behind  that  vocabulary 
The  Essential  he  should  have  found  such  an  intensity  of  passion  as  would 
in  North  fill  the  sails  of  the  highest  drama.     North  has  every  one  of 

Shakespeare's  most  powerful  effects  in  his  version  of  the 
speech  :  '  Trust  unto  it,  thou  shalt  no  sorter  marcJie  forward  to 
'  assault  thy  countrie,  but  thy  foote  shall  treade  upon  thy 
'  mothers  xoombe,  that  brought  thee  first  into  this  world'';  'Doest 
'  thou  take  it  honourable  for  a  nobleman  to  remember  the 
'  wrongs  and  injuries  done  him';  '  Tlwu  hast  not  hitherto 
'  shewed  thy  poore  mother  any  courtesy ' :  these  belong  to 
North,  and  they  are  the  motors  of  Shakespeare's  emotion. 
The  two  speeches,  dressed,  the  one  in  perfect  prose,  the  other 
in  perfect  verse,  are  both  essentially  the  same  under  their 
xcii 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

faintly  yet  magically  varied  raiment.     The  dramatic  tension,      INTRO- 

the  main  argument,  the  turns  of  pleading,  even  the  pause    DUCTION 

and  renewal  of  entreaty,  all  are  in  North,  and  are  expressed 

by  the  same  spoken  words  and  the  same  gap  of  silence.     In 

the  blank  verse  a  shorter  cadence  is  disengaged  from  the 

ampler  movement  of  prose ;  here  and  there,  too,  a  line  is 

added.     'To  tear  with  thunder  the  wide  cheeks  o'  the  air," 

could  only  have  been  written  by  an  Elizabethan  dramatist ; 

even  as 

*  Wheu  she,  poor  hen,  fond  of  no  second  brood, 
Has  clucked  thee  to  the  wars,  and  safely  home,' 

could  only  have  been  written  by  Shakespeare.     The  one  is  Shakespeare 
extravagant,  the  other  beautiful ;  but  the  power  and  the 
pathos  are  complete  without  them,  for  these  reside  in  the 
substance  and  the  texture  of  the  mother's  entreaty,  which 
are  wholly  North's.     It  is  just  to  add  that,  saving  for  some  North 
crucial  touches,  as  in  the  substitution  of '  womb  "■  for  '  corps,' 
they  belong  also  to  Amyot.      To  the  mother's  immortal 
entreaty  there  follows  the  son's  immortal  reply  :  the  third 
great  speech  of  Shakespeare's  play.    It  runs  in  Amyot ;  '  "  O  Amyot 
"  mere,  que  m'as  tu  fait  ? "  et  en  luy  serrant  estroittement 
la  main  droitte  :  "  Ha,"  dit-il,  "  mei-e,  tu  as  vaincu  une  vic- 
"toire  heureuse  pour  ton  pais,  mais  bien  malheureuse  et 
"  mortelle  pour  ton  filz :  car  je  m'en  revois  vaincu,  par  toi 
"  seule." '     In  North  :  ' "  Oh  mother,  what  have  you  done 
"  to  me  ?  "     And  holding  her  hard  by  the  right  hand,  "  Oh 
"  mother,"  sayed  he,  "  you  have  wonne  a  happy  victorie  for 
"  your  countrie,  but  mortall  and  unhappy  for  your  sonne  ; 
"  for  I  see  myself  vanquished  by  you  alone." '    North  accepts  An  Heirloom 
the  precious  jewel  from  Amyot,  without  loss  of  emotion  or 
addition  of  phrase  :   he  repeats   the  desolate  question,  the 
singultus  of  repeated  apostrophe,  the   closing  note  of  un- 
paralleled doom.      Shakespeare,  too,  accepts  them  in  turn 
fi'om  North  ;   and  one  is  sorry  that  even   he   should    have 
added  a  word. 

What,  it  may  be  asked,  led  Shakespeare,  amid  all  the  The  Reason  of 
power  and  magnificence  of  North's  Plutarch^  to  select  his  Shakespeare's 
CoriolaiiuSy  his  Julius  Cccsar^  and  his  Antonius  ?    The  answer,  Choice 

xciii 


1 


Colour 


LIVES    OF   THE   NOBLE 

INTRO-  I  think,  must  be  that  in  Volumnia,  Calpurnia  and  Portia, 
DUCTION  and  Cleopatra,  he  found  woman  in  her  three-fold  relation  to 
man,  of  mother,  wife,  and  mistress.  I  have  passed  over 
Shakespeare's  Julius  Ccesar ;  but  I  may  end  by  tracing  in 
his  Antony  the  golden  tradition  he  accepted  from  Amyot 
and  North.  It  is  impossible  to  do  this  in  detail,  for 
throughout  the  first  three  acts  all  the  colour  and  the  inci- 
dent, throughout  the  last  two  all  the  incident  and  the 
passion,  are  taken  by  Shakespeare  from  North,  and  by  North 
from  Amyot.  Enobarbus's  speech  (ii.  ii.  194),  depicting 
the  pageant  of  Cleopatra"'s  voyage  up  the  Cydnus  to  meet 
Antony,  is  but  North's  '  The  manner  how  he  fell  in  love  with 
'  her  was  this.'  Cleopatra's  harge  with  its  poop  of  gold 
and  purple  sails,  and  its  oars  of  silver,  which  '  kept  stroke, 
'  after  the  sound  of  the  musicke  qfjlutes ' ;  her  own  person 
in  her  pavilion,  cloth  of  gold  of  tissue,  even  as  Venus  is 
pictured  ;  her  pretty  boys  on  each  side  of  her,  like  Cupids, 
with  their  fans  ;  her  gentlewomen  like  the  Nereides,  steering 
the  helm  and  handling  the  tackle ;  the  '  wonderful  passing 
'  sweete  savor  of  perfumes  that  perfumed  the  ay/iar/^-side ' ; 
all  down  to  Antony  '  left  post  alone  in  the  market-place  in 
'  his  Imperiall  seate,'  are  translated  bodily  from  the  one 
book  to  the  other,  with  but  a  little  added  ornament  of 
Elizabethan  fancy.  Shakespeare,  indeed,  is  saturated  with 
North's  language  and  possessed  by  his  passion.  He  is 
haunted  by  the  story  as  North  has  told  it,  so  that  he  even 
fails  to  eliminate  matters  which  either  are  nothing  to  his 
purpose  or  are  not  susceptible  of  di'amatic  presentment :  as 
in  I.  ii.  of  the  Folios,  where  you  find  Lamprias,  Plutarch's 
grandfather,  and  his  authority  for  many  details  of  Antony's 
career,  making  an  otiose  entry  as  Lamprius,  among  the 
characters  who  have  something  to  say.  Everywhere  are 
touches  whose  colour  must  remain  comparatively  pale  unless 
they  glow  again  for  us  as,  doubtless,  they  glowed  for  Shake- 
speare, with  hues  reflected  from  the  passages  in  North  that 
shone  in  his  memory.  For  instance,  when  his  Antony  says 
(i.  i.  53) : 

'  To-night  we  '11  wander  through  the  streets  and  note 
The  qualities  of  people/ 
xciv 


Shakespeare 
Possessed  by 
North 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

you  need  to  know  from  North  that  'sometime  also  when  he      INTRO- 
'  would  goc  up  and  downe  the  citie  disguised  like  a  slave  in    DUCTION 
'  the  night,  and  would  peere  into  poore  men's  windowes  and 
'  their  shops,  and  scold  and    brawl  with  them  within  the 
'  house ;  Cleopatra  would  be  also  in  a  chamber- maides  an'ay, 
'  and  amble  up   and  down  the  streets  with  him ' ;  for  the 
fantastic  rowdyism  of  this  Imperial  masquerading  is  all  but  To  the  Point 
lost  in  Shakespeare's  hurried  allusion.    During  his  first  three  ^^  ^^^^}^^^^ 
Acts  Shakespeare  merely  paints  the  man  and  the  woman  who 
are  to  suffer  and  die  in  his  two  others ;  and  for  these  por- 
traits he  has  scraped  together  all   his  colour  from  the  many 
such  passages  as  are  scattered  through  the  earlier  and  longer 
portion  of  North's  Antonius.     Antony's  Spartan  endurance 
in  bygone  days,  sketched  in  Caesar's  speech  (i.  iv.  59) — 

'  Thou  didst  driuk 
The  stale  of  horses  and  the  gilded  puddle 
Which  beasts  would  cough  at :  thy  palate  then  did  deign 
The  roughest  berry  on  the  rudest  hedge  ; 
Yea,  like  a  stag  when  snow  the  pasture  sheets^ 
The  barks  of  trees  thou  brousedst.     On  the  Alps 
It  is  reported  thou  didst  eat  strange  flesh, 
Which  some  did  die  to  look  on ' — 

is  thus  originated  by  North :  *  It  was  a  wonderful  example 
'  to  the  souldiers,  to  see  Antonius  that  was  brought  up  in 

*  all  fineness  and  superfluity,  so  easily  to  drink  puddle  water, 

*  and  to   eate  wild   fruits   and   rootes  :    and    moreover,  it 
'  is  reported  that  even  as  they  passed  the  Alpes,  they  did 

*  eate  the  barks  of  trees,  and  such  beasts  as  never  man  tasted 

'  their  flesh  before.'  For  his  revels  in  Alexandria,  Shake-  Colour 
speare  has  taken  'the  eight  wild  boars  roasted  whole'  (ii. 
ii.  183) ;  for  Cleopatra's  disports,  the  diver  who  '  did  hang  a 
'  salt  fish  on  his  hook '  (ii.  v.  17).  In  iii.  iii.  the  dialogue  with 
the  Soothsayer,  with  every  particular  of  Antony's  Demon 
overmatched  by  Caesar's,  and  of  his  ill  luck  with  Caesar  at 
dice,  cocking,  and  quails  ;  in  iii.  x.  the  galley's  name, 
Antoniad ;  and  in  iii.  vi.  Caesar's  account  of  the  coronation  on 
a  '  tribunal  silver''d,''  and  of  Cleopatra's  '  giving  audience '  in 
the  habiliment  of  the  Goddess  Isis,  are  other  such  colour 
patches.     And  this,  which  is  true  of  colour,  is  true  also  of 

xcv 


INTRO- 
DUCTION 


Incident 


Antony  and 
Cleopatra,  iv. 
and  V. 


LIVES    OF   THE   NOBLE 

incident  in  the  first  three  Acts.  The  scene  near  Misenum 
in  II.  vi.,with  the  light  tallc  between  Pompey  and  Antony,  is 
hardly  intelligible  apart  from  North  :  *  Whereupon  Antonius 
'  asked  him  (Sextus  Pompeius),  "  And  where  shall  we  sup  ?  " 
'  "There,"'''  sayd  Pompey;  and  showed  him  his  admiral 
'  galley  ..."  that,"  said  he,  "  is  my  father"'s  house  they 
'  "  have  left  me.""  He  spake  it  to  taunt  Antonius  because  he 
'  had  his  father"'s  house."*  On  the  galley  in  the  next  scene, 
the  offer  of  Menas,  'Let  me  cut  the  cable,"*  and  Pompey''s 
reply  '  Ah,  this  thou  shouldst  have  done  and  not  have  spoke 
'  on''t ! "'  may  be  read  almost  textually  in  North  :  '  "  Shall  I 
'  "  cut  the  gables  of  the  ankers  ? "'"'  Pompey  having  paused  a 
'  while  upon  it,  at  length  answered  him :  "  thou  shouldst 
'  "  have  done  it  and  never  told  it  me."'"' '  In  in.  vii.  the  old 
soldier"'s  appeal  to  Antony  not  to  fight  by  sea,  with  all  his 
arguments ;  in  ii.  xi.  Antony"'s  offer  to  his  friends  of  a  ship 
laden  with  gold ;  in  in.  xii.  his  request  to  Caesar  that  he  may 
live  at  Athens ;  in  in.  xiii.  the  whipping  of  Thyreus,  with 
Cleopatra's  announcement,  when  Antony  is  pacified,  that 
'  Since  my  lord  Is  Antony  again,  I  will  be  Cleopatra — "*  ^  all 
these  incidents  are  compiled  from  the  many  earlier  pages  of 
North^'s  A  ntonius.  But  in  the  Fourth  Act  Shakespeare  changes 
his  method :  he  has  no  more  need  to  gather  and  arrange. 
Rather  the  concentrated  passion,  born  of,  and  contained  in, 
North''s  serried  narrative,  expands  in  his  verse — nay,  ex- 
plodes from  it — into  those  flashes  of  immortal  speech  which 
have  given  the  Fourth  Act  of  Antony  and  Cleopatra  its  place 
apart  even  in  Shakespeare.  Of  all  that  may  be  said  of 
North''s  Plutarch^  this  perhaps  is  of  deepest  significance  : 
that  every  dramatic  incident  in  Shakespeare"'s  Fourth  Act  is 
contained  in  two,  and  in  his  Fifth  Act,  in  one  and  a  half 
folio  pages  of  the  Antonius.  Let  me  rehearse  the  incidents. 
The  Fourth  Act  opens  with  Antony ""s  renewed  challenge  to 
Caesar,  and  is  somewhat  marred  by  Shakespeare"'s  too  faithful 
following  of  an  error  in  North"'s  translation. 

'  Let  the  old  ruffian  know 
I  have  many  other  ways  to  die ' 


^  One  of  North's  mistranslations :  she  kept  Antony's  birthday,  not  her  own. 
xcvi 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

is   taken   from   North;   but   North   has   mistaken   Amyot,      INTRO- 
who  correctly  renders    Plutarch's  version   of  the   repartee,    DUCTION 
that  *  he  (Antony)  has  many  other  ways  to  die ' :  ('  Cesar 
'  luy  feit  response,   qiCil  avoit   beaucoup  cTautre  moiens  de 
'  mourir  que  celuy  la.'')     In  North,  this    second   challenge 
comes  after  (1)  the  sally  in  which  Antony  drove  Cassar''s 
horsemen  back  to  their  camp  (iv,  vii.) ;   (2)  the  passage  in 
which  he  '  sweetly  kissed  Cleopatra,  armed  as  he  was,""  and 
commended  to  her  a  wounded  soldier  (iv.  viii.) ;  (3)  the  subse- 
quent defection  of  that  soldier,  which  Shakespeare,  harking 
back   to   the  earlier   defection  of  Domitius,  described  by 
North  before  Actium,  develops  into  Enobarbus's  defection 
and  Antony's  magnanimity   (iv.  v.),  with  Enobarbus's   re- 
pentance   and    death   (iv.    vi.    and    ix.).      In    North,   hard 
after   the   challenge    follows  the  supper  at  which  Antony 
made  his  followers  weep  (iv.  ii.)  and  the  mysterious  music 
portending  the  departure  of  Hercules  (iv.  iii.).     The  latter 
passage  is  so  full  of  awe  that  I  cannot  choose  but  quote. 
Furthermore,'  says  North,  '  the  self  same  night  within  little  '  'Tis  the  god 
of  midnight,  when  all  the  citie  was  quiet,  full  of  feare,  and  Hercules ' 
sorrowe,  thinking  what  would  be  the  issue  and  end  of  this 
warre  :    it  is  said  that  sodainly  they  heard  a  marvelous 
sweete  harmonie  of  sundrie  sortes  of  instruments  of  musicke, 
with  the  crie  of  a  multitude  of  people,  as  they  had  beene 
dauncing,  and  had  song  as  they  use  in  Bacchus  feastes,  with 
movinges  and  turninges  after  the  manner  of  the  satyres, 
and  it  seemed  that  this  daunce  went  through  the  city  unto 
the  gate  that  opened  to  the  enemies,  and  that  all  the  troupe 
that  made  this  noise  they  heard  went  out  of  the  city  at  that 
gate.    Now,  such  as  in  reason  sought  the  interpretation  of 
this  wonder,  thought  that  it  was  the  god  unto  whom  Antonius 
bare  singular  devotion  to  counterfeate  and  resemble  him, 
that  did  forsake  them.'  ^    The  incident  is  hardly  susceptible 
of  dramatic    representation,   but    Shakespeare,    as   it    were 
spellbound  by  his   material,  must  even  try  his  hand  at  a 

^  Translated  word  for  word  from  Amyot.  Any  one  who  cares  to  pursue 
this  tradition  of  beauty  still  further  towards  its  sources  will  find  that  in  the 
Anionius  Amyot  was  in  turn  the  debtor  of  Leonardus  Aretinus,  who  did  the 
life  into  Latin  for  the  editio  princeps  (1470)  of  Campani. 

n  xcvii 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 


Plutarch's 
Realism 


INTRO-  miracle.  Follows,  in  North,  the  treachery  of  Cleopatra's 
DUCTION  troops ;  Antony's  accusation  of  Cleopatra  (iv.  x.  xi.  and  xii.); 
Cleopatra's  flight  to  the  monument  and  the  false  message  of 
her  death  (iv.  xiii.);  Antony's  dialogue  with  Eros,  the  suicide 
of  Eros,  and  the  attempt  of  Antony  (iv.  xiv.)  ;  and  the 
death  of  Antony  (iv.  xv.).  Every  incident  in  Shakespeare's 
Act  is  contained  in  these  two  pages  of  North  ;  and  not  only 
the  incidents  but  the  very  passion  of  the  speeches.  'O 
'  Cleopatra,'  says  Antonius,  '  it  grieveth  me  not  that  I  have 
'  lost  thy  companie,  for  I  will  not  be  long  from  thee ;  but  I 
'  am  Sony,  that  having  bene  so  great  a  captaine  and  em- 
'  perour,  I  am  in  deede  condemned  to  be  judged  of  less 
'  corage  and  noble  minde  then  a  woman.'  Or  take,  again, 
the  merciless  realism  of  Cleopatra's  straining  to  draw  Antony 
up  into  the  monument : — '  Notwithstanding  Cleopatra  would 
'  not  open  the  gates,  but  came  to  the  high  windowes,  and 
'  cast  out  certaine  chaines  and  ropes,  in  the  which  Antony  was 
'  trussed  :  and  Cleopatra  her  oune  selfe,  with  two  women  only, 
'  which  she  had  suffered  to  come  with  her  into  these  monu- 
'  ments,  trised  Antonius  up.  They  that  were  present  to 
'  behold  it,  said  they  never  saw  so  pitiefull  a  sight.  For 
'  they  plucked  poore  Antonius  all  Isloody  as  he  was,  and 
'  drawing  on  with  pangs  of  death,  who  holding  up  his  hands 
'  to  Cleopatra,  raised  up  him  selfe  as  well  as  he  could.  It 
'  was  a  hard  thing  for  these  women  to  do,  to  lift  him  up : 
'  but  Cleopatra  stooping  downe  with  her  head,  putting  to 
'  all  her  strength  to  her  uttermost  power,  did  lift  him  up 
'  v/ith  much  adoe,  and  never  let  goe  her  hold,  with  the  helpe 
'  of  the  women  beneath  that  bad  her  be  of  good  corage,  and 
'  were  as  sorie  to  see  her  labour  so,  as  she  her  selfe.  So 
'  when  she  had  gotten  him  in  after  that  sorte,  and  layed 
'  him  on  a  bed :  she  rent  her  garments  upon  him,  clapping 
'  her  breast,  and  scratching  her  face  and  stomake.  Then  she 
'  dried  up  his  blood  that  herayed  his  face,  and  called  him  her 
'  Lord,  her  husband,  and  Emperor,  forgetting  her  miserie  and 
'  calam,itie,Jor  tJie  pitie  and  compassion  she  took  of  him.''  In 
all  this  splendour  North  is  Amyot,  and  Amyot  is  Plutarch, 
while  Plutarch  is  but  the  reporter  of  events  within  the  re- 
collection of  men  he  had  seen  living ;  so  that  Shakespeare's 
xcviii 


A  Traditiou 
of  Passion 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

Fourth  Act  is  based  on  old-world  realism  made  dynamic  by  INTRO- 
North's  incomparable  prose.  Then  come  Antony ""s  call  for  DUCTION 
wine  and  his  last  speech,  which  Shakespeare  has  taken  with 
scarce  a  change  :  'And  for  himself,  that  she  should  not  lament 
'  nor  son'owe  for  the  miserable  chaunge  of  his  fortune  at  the 
'  end  of  his  dayes  :  but  rather  that  she  should  thinke  him 
'  the  more  fortunate,  for  the  former  triumphe  and  honors  he 
'  had  received,  considering  that  while  he  lived  he  was  the 

*  noblest  and  gi*eatest  prince  of  the  world,  and  that  now  he 
'  was  overcome  not  cowardly,  but  valiantly,  a  Romane  by 
'  another  Romane.**     In  Shakespeare  : 

'  Please  your  thoughts  Its  Supreme 

In  feeding  them  with  those  my  former  fortunes  Expression 

Wherein  I  liv'd  :  the  greatest  prince  o'  the  world. 
The  noblest :  and  do  now  not  basely  die. 
Not  cowardly  put  off  my  helmet  to 
My  countryman,  a  Roman  by  a  Roman 
Valiantly  vanquished.' 

To  the  end  of  the  play  the  poet's  fidelity  is  as  close ;  and 
North's  achievement  in  narrative  prose  is  only  less  signal 
than  Shakespeare's  in  dramatic  verse.     Every  characteristic 
touch,  even  to  Cleopatra's  outburst  against  Seleucus,  is  in 
North.    Indeed,  in  the  Fifth  Act  I  venture  to  say  that  Shake- 
speare has  not  transcended  his  original.     There  is  in  North  An  Over- 
a  speech  of  Cleopatra  at  the  tomb  of  Antony,  which  can  ill  looked 
be  spared  ;  since  it  is  only  indicated  in  Shakespeare  (v.  ii.  303)  Apostrophe 
by  a  brief  apostrophe — 

'  O,  couldst  thou  speak, 

That  I  might  hear  thee  call  great  Csesar  ass 

Unpolicied ' — 

which  is  often  confused  with  the  context  addressed  to  the  asp. 
In  North  you  read :  '  She  was  carried  to  the  place  where  his 

*  tombe  was,  and  there  falling  downe  on  her  knees,  imbracing 
'  the  tombe  with  her  women,  the  teares  running  doune  her 
'  cheekes,  she  began  to  speake  in  this  sorte  :  "  O  my  deare  Lord 
'  "  Antonius,  not  long  sithence  I  buried  thee  here,  being  a  free 
'  "  woman  :  and  now  I  offer  unto  thee  the  fiuierall  sprinklinges 
'  "  and  oblations,  being  a  captive  and  prisoner,  and  yet  I  am 
'  "  forbidden  and  kept  from  tearing  and  murdering  this  captive 

xcix 


INTRO- 
DUCTION 


The  Last 
Splendour 


LIVES   OF   THE    NOBLE 

"  body  of  mine  with  blowes,  which  they  carefully  gard  and 
"  keepe,  only  to  triumphe  of  thee :  looke  therefore  hence- 
"  forth  for  no  other  honors,  oferinges,  nor  sacrifices  from 
"  me,  for  these  are  the  last  which  Cleopatra  can  geve  thee, 
"  sith  nowe  they  carie  her  away.  Whilest  we  lived  together 
"  nothing  could  sever  our  companies  :  but  now  at  our  death, 
"  I  feare  me  they  will  make  us  chaunge  our  countries.  For 
"  as  thou  being  a  Romane,  hast  been  buried  in  Mgypt :  even 
"  so  wretched  creatm'e  I,  an  -Egyptian,  shall  be  buried  in 
"  Italic,  which  shall  be  all  the  good  that  I  have  received 
"  of  thy  contrie.  If  therefore  the  Gods  where  thou  art  now 
"  have  any  power  and  authoritie,  sith  our  gods  here  have  for- 
"  saken  us  :  suffer  not  thy  true  friend  and  lover  to  be  caried 
"  away  alive,  that  in  me,  they  triumphe  of  thee  :  but  receive 
"  me  with  thee,  and  let  me  be  burned  in  one  selfe  tombe  with 
"  thee.  For  though  my  griefes  and  miseries  be  infinite,  yet 
"  none  hath  grieved  me  more,  nor  that  I  could  lesse  beare 
"  withall :  then  this  small  time,  which  I  had  been  driven  to 
"  live  alone  without  thee." '  Her  prayer  is  granted.  The 
countryman  comes  in  with  his  figs ;  and  then,  '  Her  death 
was  very  sodaine.  For  those  whom  Caesar  sent  unto  her 
ran  thither  in  all  hast  possible,  and  found  the  souldiers 
standing  at  the  gate,  mistrusting  nothing,  nor  understand- 
ing of  her  death.  But  when  they  opened  the  dores,  they 
found  Cleopatra  starke  dead,  layed  upon  a  bed  of  gold, 
attired  and  araied  in  her  royall  robes,  and  one  of  her  two 
women,  which  was  called  Iras,  dead  at  her  feete ;  and  her 
other  woman  called  Charmion  halfe  dead,  and  trembling, 
trimming  the  Diademe  which  Cleopatra  ware  upon  her  head. 
One  of  the  souldiers  seeing  her,  angrily  sayd  unto  her :  "  Is 
"  that  well  done,  Charmion .? "  "  Verie  well,"  sayd  she  againe, 
"  and  meet  for  a  Princes  discended  from  the  race  of  so  many 
"  noble  kings."  She  sayd  no  more,  but  fell  doune  dead  hard 
by  the  bed."* 
I  doubt  if  there  are  many  pages  which  may  rank  with 
these  last  of  North's  Antonius  in  the  prose  of  any  language. 
They  are  the  golden  crown  of  his  Plutarch^  but  their  fellows 
are  all  a  royal  vesture  wrapping  a  kingly  body.  For  the 
Parallel  Lives  is  a  book  most  sovereign  in  its  dominion  over 
c 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

the  minds  of  great  men  in  every  age.     Henri  iv,,  in  a  love-      INTRO- 

letter,  written  between  battles,  to  his  young  wife,  Marie  de    DUCTION 

Medicis,  speaks  of  it  as  no  other  such  hero  has  spoken  of  any 

other  volume,  amid  such  dire  surroundings  and  in  so  dear  a 

context.     But  if  it  has  armed  men  of  action,  it  has  urged 

men  of  letters.     Macaulay  claimed  it  for  his  '  forte  ...  to 

'  give  a  life  after  the  manner  of  Plutarch,''  and  he  tells  us 

that,  between  the  writing  of  two  pages,  when  for  weeks  a 

solitary  at  his  task,  he  would  '  ramble  five  or  six  hours  over 

'  rocks  and  through   copsewood  with  Plutarch.""      Of  good 

English  prose  there  is  much,  but  of  the  world''s  greatest 

books  in  great  English  prose  there  are  not  many.     Here 

is  one,  worthy  to  stand  with  Malory''s  Morte  Darthur  on 

either  side  the  English  Bible. 

GEORGE  WYNDHAM. 


01 


'W 


NOTE 

This  text  is  reprinted  from 

the  Editio  Princeps  of 

1579 


THE   LIVES  OF 

THE  NOBLE  GRECIANS 
AND  ROMANES 

COMPARED  TOGETHER  BY  THAT  GRAVE  LEARN- 
ED PHILOSOPHER  AND  HISTORIOGRAPHER 

PLUTARKE    OF    CHiERONEA 

TRANSLATED  OUT  OF  GREEKE  INTO  FRENCH  BY 

JAMES    AMYOT 

ABBOT  OF  BELLOZANE,  BISHOP  OF  AUXERRE,  OXE  OF  THE 
KINGS  PRIVY  COUXSEL,  AXD  GREAT  AMXER  OF  FRAUXCE 

AND  OUT  OF  FRENCH  INTO  ENGLISHE  BY 

THOMAS    NORTH 

1579 


TO   THE   MOST    HIGH    AND 
MIGHTY    PRINCESSE 

ELIZABETH 

BY  THE  GRACE  OF  GOD,  OF  ENGLAND,  FRAUNCE 

AND  IRELAND  QUEENE 

DEFENDER  OF  THE  FAITH  *.  ETC. 


NDER  hope  of  your  highnes 
gratious  and  accustomed  favor, 
I  have  presumed  to  present  here 
unto  your  Majestie,  Plutarkes 
lyves  translated,  as  a  booke  fit  to 
be  protected  by  your  highnes,  and 
meete  to  be  set  forth  in  Englishe.  For  who  is  fitter 
to  give  countenance  to  so  many  great  states,  than 
such  an  highe  and  mightie  Princesse  ?  who  is  fitter 
to  revive  the  dead  memorie  of  their  fame,  than  she 
that  beareth  the  lively  image  of  their  vertues  ? 
who  is  fitter  to  authorize  a  worke  of  so  great 
learning  and  wisedome,  than  she  whome  all  do 
honor  as  the  Muse  of  the  world?     Therefore  I 

humbly   beseech    your    Majestie,    to    suffer    the 

J3 


THE 

EPISTLE 
DEDICA- 
TORY 


LIVES    OF    THE    NOBLE 

simplenes  of  my  translation,  to  be  covered  under 
the  amplenes  of  your  highnes  protection.  For, 
most  gracious  Sovereigne,  though  this  booke  be 
no  booke  for  your  INIajesties  selfe,  who  are  meeter 
to  be  the  chiefe  storie,  than  a  student  therein,  and 
can  better  understand  it  in  Greeke,  than  any  man 
can  make  it  Englishe :  yet  I  hope  the  common 
sorte  of  your  subjects,  shall  not  onely  profit  them 
selves  hereby,  but  also  be  animated  to  the  better 
service  of  your  Majestic.  For  amonge  all  the 
profane  bookes,  that  are  in  reputacion  at  this  day, 
there  is  none  (your  highnes  best  knowes)  that 
teacheth  so  much  honor,  love,  obedience,  rever- 
ence, zeale,  and  devocion  to  Princes,  as  these  lives 
of  Plutarke  doe.  Howe  many  examples  shall  your 
subjects  reade  here,  of  severall  persons,  and  whole 
armyes,  of  noble  and  base,  of  younge  and  olde, 
that  both  by  sea  and  lande,  at  home  and  abroad, 
have  strayned  their  wits,  not  regarded  their  states, 
ventured  their  persons,  cast  away  their  lives,  not 
onely  for  the  honor  and  safetie,  but  also  for  the 
pleasure  of  their  Princes  ? 

Then  well  may  the  Readers  thinke,  if  they  have 
done  this  for  heathen  Kings,  what  should  we  doe 
for  Christian  Princes  ?  If  they  have  done  this  for 
glorye,  what  shoulde  we  doe  for  religion  ?  If  they 
have   done   this   without   hope   of  heaven,   what 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

should  we  doe  that  looke  for  immortalitie  ?     And       the 
so  adding  the  encouragement  of  these  exsamples,     DEDiCi" 
to  the  forwardnes    of   their   owne    dispositions :      TORY 
what  service  is   there   in  warre,  what  honor  in 
peace,  which  they  will  not  be  ready  to  doe,  for 
their  worthy  Queene  ? 

And  therefore  that  your  highnes  may  give  grace 
to  the  booke,  and  the  booke  may  doe  his  service 
to  your  Majestic :  I  have  translated  it  out  of 
French,  and  doe  here  most  humbly  present  the 
same  unto  your  highnes,  beseeching  your  Majestic 
with  all  humilitie,  not  to  reject  the  good  meaning, 
but  to  pardon  the  errours  of  your  most  humble 
and  obedient  subject  and  servaunt,  who  prayeth 
God  long  to  multiplye  all  graces  and  blessings 
upon  your  Majestic.  Written  the  sixteene  day 
oflanuary.     1579. 

Your  Majesties  most  humble  and 
obedient  servaunt, 

THOMAS  NORTH. 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 


1 

i 

TO    THE    READER 

HE  profit  of  stories,  and  the  prayse  of  the 
Author,  are  sufficiently  declared  by  Amiot, 
in  his  Epistle  to  the  Reader:  So  that  I 
shall  not  neede  to  make  many  wordes 
thereof.  And  in  deede  if  you  will  supply 
the  defects  of  this  translation,  with  your 
owne  diligence  and  good  understanding : 
you  shall  not  neede  to  trust  him,  you  may 
prove  your  selves,  that  there  is  no  prophane  studye  better 
then  Plutarke.  All  other  learning  is  private,  fitter  for 
Universities  then  cities,  fuller  of  contemplacion  than  experi- 
ence, more  commendable  in  the  students  them  selves,  than 
profitable  unto  others.  Whereas  stories  are  fit  for  every 
place,  reache  to  all  persons,  serve  for  all  tymes,  teache  the 
living,  revive  the  dead,  so  farre  excelling  all  other  bookes,  as  it 
is  better  to  see  learning  in  noble  mens  lives,  than  to  reade  it 
in  Philosophers  writings.  Nowe  for  the  Author,  I  will  not 
denye  but  love  may  deceive  me,  for  I  must  needes  love  him 
with  whome  I  have  taken  so  much  payne :  but  I  beleve  I 
might  be  bold  to  affirme,  that  he  hath  written  the  profit- 
ablest  story  of  all  Authors.  For  all  other  were  fayne  to 
take  their  matter,  as  the  fortune  of  the  contries  whereof 
they  wrote  fell  out :  But  this  man  being  excellent  in  wit, 
learning,  and  experience,  hath  chosen  the  speciall  actes  of 
the  best  persons,  of  the  famosest  nations  of  the  world.  But 
I  will  leave  the  judgement  to  your  selves.  My  onely  purpose 
is  to  desire  you  to  excuse  the  faults  of  my  translation,  with 
your  owne  gentlenes,  and  with  the  opinion  of  my  diligence 
and  good  entent.  And  so  I  wishe  you  all  the  profit  of  the 
booke.  Fare  ye  well.  The  foure  and  twenty  day  of  January. 
1579. 

THOMAS  NORTH. 
7 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 


AMIOT  TO  THE  READERS 

HE  reading-  of  hookes  which  bring  but  a 
vayne  and  unprojitable  pleasure  to  the 
Reader,  is  justly  misliked  of  wise  and 
grave  men.  Againe,  the  reading  of  such 
as  doe  but  onely  bring  profit,  and  make 
the  Reader  to  be  in  love  therewith,  and  doe 
not  ease  the  payne  of  the  reading  by  some 
pleasauntnes  in  the  same :  doe  seeme  some- 
what harshe  to  divers  delicate  wits,  that  can  not  tary  long 
iipon  them.  But  such  bookes  as  yeeld  pleasure  and  projit,  and 
doe  both  delight  and  teache,  have  all  that  a  man  can  desire 
why  they  should  be  universally  liked  and  allowed  of  all  sortes 
of  men,  according  to  the  common  saying  of  the  Poet  Horace: 

That  he  which  matcheth  profit  with  delight, 
Doth  winne  the  price  in  every  poynt  aright. 

Eyther  of  these  yeeld  his  effect  the  better,  by  reason  the  one 
runneth  with  the  other,  profiting  the  more  bicause  of  the 
delight,  and  deliting  the  more  bicause  of  the  projit.  This 
commendacion  {iri  my  opinion)  is  most  proper  to  the  reading 
of  stories,  to  have  pleasure  and  profit  matched  together,  which 
kind  of  delight  and  teaching,  meeting  in  this  wise  arvie  in 
arme,  hath  more  allowance  than  any  other  kind  of  writing 
or  invention  of  man.  In  respect  whereof  it  may  be  reasonably 
avowed,  that  men  are  more  beholding  to  such  good  wits,  as  by 
their  grave  and  wise  writing  have  deserved  the  name  qj 
Historiographers,  then  they  are  to  any  otlier  kind  of  writers : 
bicause  an  historic  is  an  orderly  register  of  notable  things 
sayd,  done,  or  happened  in  tyme  past,  to  mainteyne  the  con- 
tinuall  remembraunce  of  them,  and  to  serve  for  the  instruction 
of  them  to  come. 

8 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

And  like  as  memorie  is  as  a  storehouse  of  mens  conceits  and  AMIOT 
devises,  without  the  which  the  actions  of  the  other  two  partes  TO  THE 
shoidd  he  imperfect;  and  xvelneare  unprofitable:  So  may  it  READERS 
also  he  sai/d,  that  an  historic  is  the  very  treasury  of  mans  life, 
whereby  the  notable  doings  and  sayings  of  men,  and  the 
wonderjidl  adventures  and  straunge  cases  {which  the  long 
contijiuance  of  time  bringeth  forth)  are  preserved  from  the 
death  oj  forgetfalnes.  Hereuppon  it  riseth,  that  Plato  the 
wise  sayth,  that  the  name  of  historic  was  given  to  this  record- 
ing of  ^natters,  to  stay  the  fleeting  of  our  memorie,  which 
otherwise  would  be  soone  lost,  and  retayne  litle.  And  we  may 
well  perceive  how  greatly  we  be  beholding  unto  it,  if  we  doe  no 
more  bid  consider  in  how  horrible  darkoies,  and  in  hoxv  beastly 
and  pestilent  a  quamyre  qfignoraunce  we  should  be  phmged:  if 
the  remembraunce  of' all  the  thinges  that  have  bene  done,  and 
have  happened  before  we  xoere  borne,  ivere  utterly  droxvned  and 
forgotten.  Now  therefore  I  xvill  overpasse  the  excellencie  and 
worthines  of  the  thing  it  selfe,  forasmuch  as  it  is  not  onely 
of  more  antiquitie  then  any  other  kind  of  writing  that  ever 
was  in  the  worlde,  bid  also  was  used  among  men,  before 
there  was  any  use  of  letters  at  all :  bicause  that  men  in  those 
dayes  delivered  in  their  lifetimes  the  remembrance  of  things 
past  to  their  successors,  in  songes,  which  they  caused  their 
children  to  learne  by  hart,  J'rom  hand  to  hand,  as  is  to  be 
scene  yet  in  our  dayes,  by  thexample  of  the  barbarous  people 
that  inhabite  the  new  found  landcs  in  the  West,  who  without 
any  records  of  writings,  have  had  the  knowledge  of  thinges 
past,  welneare  eyght  hundred  yeares  afore.  Likewise  I  leave 
to  discourse,  that  it  is  the  surest,  scifest,  and  durablest  monu- 
ment that  men  can  leave  of  their  doings  in  this  world,  to  con- 
secrate their  names  to  immortalitye.  For  there  is  nether 
picture,  nor  image  of  marble,  nor  arch  of  triumph,  nor  piller, 
nor  sumptuous  sepidchre,  that  can  match  the  durablenes  of 
an  eloquent  history,  furnished  with  the  properties  which  it 
ought  to  have.  Again,  I  mind  not  to  stand  much  upon  this, 
that  it  hath  a  certain  troth  in  it,  in  that  it  alwaies  professeth 
to  spedke  truth,  and  for  that  the  proper  ground  thereof  is  to 
treate  of  the  greatest  and  highest  thinges  that  are  done  in  the 
world :  insomuch  that  {to  my  seming)  the  great  projit  thereof 

B  9 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

AMIOT  is  as  Horace  saith,  that  it  is  commonly  called  the  viother  of 
TO  THE  troth  and  uprightnes,  which  commcndeth  it  so  greatly,  as  it 
READERS  needeth  not  elswhere  to  seeke  any  authority,  or  ornament  of' 
dignitie,  but  of  her  very  selfe.  For  it  is  a  cei'taine  ride  and. 
instruction,  ivhich  by  examples  past,  teacheth  us  to  Judge  of 
thinges  present,  and  to  ^foresee  things  to  come:  so  as  we  may 
know  what  to  like  of,  and  what  to  follow,  what  to  mislike,  and 
what  to  eschew.  It  is  a  picture,  xohich  (as  it  were  in  a  table) 
setteth  before  our  eies  the  things  worthy  of  rem£mhrance  that 
have  bene  done  in  olde  time  by  mighty  nations,  noble  kings 
and  Princes,  wise  governors,  valiant  Captaines,  and  persons 
renowmed  for  some  notable  qualitie,  representing  unto  us  the 
maners  of  straunge  nations,  the  lawes  and  customs  of  old 
time,  the  particular  affaires  qf  men,  their  considtations  and 
enterprises,  the  meanes  that  they  have  used  to  compasse  them 
withall,  and  their  demeaning  of  them  selves  when  they  were 
comen  to  the  highest,  or  throwen  down  to  the  lowest  degre  of 
state.  So  as  it  is  not  possible  for  any  case  to  rise  either  in 
peace  or  warre,  in  publike  or  private  affayres,  but  that  the 
person  which  shall  have  diligently  red,  well  conceived,  and 
throughly  remembred  histories,  shall  find  matter  in  them 
xvhereat  to  take  light,  and  counsell  whereby  to  resolve  him 
selfe  to  take  a  part,  or  to  give  advise  wito  others,  how  to 
choose  in  doubtfidl  and  daungerous  cases  that,  which  may  be 
for  their  most  profit,  and  in  time  to  find  out  to  what  poynt 
the  matter  will  come  fit  be  well  handled :  and  how  to  moderate 
him  sefe  in  prosperitie,  and  how  to  cheere  up  and  beare  him 
sefe  in  adversitie.  These  things  it  doth  with  much  greater 
grace,  efficacie,  and  speede,  than  the  bookes  of  morall  Philo- 
sophic doe:  forasmuch  as  examples  are  of  more  force  to 
move  and  instruct,  than  are  the  arguments  and  proqfes  of 
reason,  or  their  precise  precepts,  bicause  examples  be  the  very 
formes  of  our  deedes,  and  accompanied  with  all  circumstances. 
Whereas  reasons  and  demonstrations  are  generall,  and  tend 
to  the  proof e  of  things,  and  to  the  becding  of  them  into  under- 
standing: and  examples  tende  to  the  shewing  of  them  in 
practise  and  execution,  bicause  they  doe  not  onely  declare  what 
is  to  be  done,  but  also  worke  a  desire  to  doe  it,  as  well  in 
respect  of  a  certaine  naturall  inclination  which  all  men  have 
10 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

tojhlloic  i'd-mnples,  as  also  for  the  beautie  of  vertue,  which  is 
of  such  pOiCer,  that  ^wheresoever  she  is  seene,  she  maketh  her 
selfe  to  be  loved  and  liked.  Againe,  it  doth  thinges  xvith 
greater  weight  and  gravitie,  than  the  inventiojis  and  devises 
of  the  Poets :  bicause  it  helpeth  not  it  selfe  with  any  other 
thing  than  xvith  the  plaine  truth,  whereas  Poetry  doth  com- 
monly inrich  things  by  commending  them  above  the  starrs  and 
their  deserving,  bicause  the  chiefe  intent  thereof  is  to  delight. 
Moreover,  it  doth  tliinges  zoith  more  grace  and  modestie  than 
the  civill  leaves  and  ordinances  doe :  bicause  it  is  more  grace 
for  a  man  to  teach  and  instruct,  than  to  chastise  or  punish. 
And  yet  for  all  this,  an  historic  also  hath  his  maner  of  pun- 
ishing the  ivicked,  by  the  reproch  of  everlasting  irtfamie, 
wherewith  it  dcfaceth  their  remembrance,  zvhich  is  a  great 
meane  to  xvithdraw  them  from  vice,  who  otherwise  would  be 
lewdly  and  wickedly  disposed.  Likewise  on  the  contrary 
parte,  the  immortall  praise  and  glorye  wherezvith  it  rewardeth 
zvell  doers,  is  a  very  lively  and  sharpe  spurrefor  men  of  noble 
corage  and  gentlemanlike  nature,  to  cause  them  to  adventure 
upon  all  mancr  of  noble  ami  great  thinges.  For  bookes  are 
full  of  examples  of  men  of  high  courage  and  wisedom,  who 
for  desire  to  continue  the  remembraunce  of  their  name,  by  the 
sxire  and  certaine  recorde  of  histories,  have  willingly  yeelded 
their  lyves  to  the  service  of  the  common  zveale,  spent  their 
goods,  susteyned  infinite  peynes  both  of  body  and  mind  in 
defence  of  the  oppressed,  in  making  common  buildings,  in 
stablishing  of  lawes  and  governments,  and  in  the  finding  out 
ofartes  and  sciences  necessary  Jbr  the  maintenance  and  orna- 
ment of  mans  life :  for  the  faithfull  registring  whereof,  the 
thanke  is  due  to  histories.  A  nd  although  true  vertue  seeke  no 
reward  of  her  commendable  doinges  like  a  hyreling,  but  con- 
tenteth  her  selfe  zvith  the  conscience  of  her  zvell  doing :  yet 
notwithstanding  I  am  of  opinion,  that  it  is  good  and  meete  to 
drazo  men  by  all  meanes  to  good  doing,  and  good  men  ought 
not  to  be  forbidden  to  hope  for  the  honor  of  their  vertuous 
deedes,  seeing  that  honor  doth  naturally  accompany  vertue,  as 
the  shadowe  doth  the  bodye.  For  we  commonly  see,  not  to 
feele  the  sparkes  of  desire  of  honor,  is  an  i) fallible  signe  of  a 
base,  vile,  and  cloynish  nature :  and  that  such  as  account  it 

11 


AMIOT 

TO  THE 

HEADERS 


LIVES    OF    THE    NOBLE 

AMIOT  an  unnecessary,  needelesse,  or  unseemely  thing  to  he  praysed, 
TO  THE  are  likewise  no  doers  of  any  thinges  worthy  of  pray  se,  hut  are 
READERS  commonly  men  oj  faint  corage,  whose  thoughtes  extende  no 
further  than  to  their  lives,  whereof  also  they  have  no  further 
remembraunce,  than  is  hefore  their  eyes.  But  if  the  counsell 
of  olde  men  he  to  be  greatly  esteemed,  hicause  they  must  needes 
have  scene  much  hy  reason  of  their  longe  Ife :  and  if  they 
that  have  travelled  longe  in  straunge  contries,  and  have  had 
the  managing  of  many  affayres,  and  have  gotten  great  ex- 
perience of  the  doings  of  this  xoorlde,  are  reputed  for  sage, 
and  xmrthy  to  have  the  reynes  of  greate  governments  put  into 
their  handes :  howe  greatly  is  the  reading  of  histories  to  he 
esteemed,  zvhich  is  able  to  furnishe  us  with  moe  examples  in 
one  daye,  than  the  whole  course  of  the  longest  Ife  of  any  man 
is  able  to  doe.  Insomuch  that  they  which  exercise  them  selves 
in  reading"  as  they  ought  to  doe,  although  they  he  hut  young, 
become  such  in  respect  of  understanding  of  the  affayres  of  this 
world,  as  if  they  were  olde  and  grayheaded,  and  of  long 
experience.  Yea  though  they  never  have  removed  out  of  their 
houses,  yet  are  they  advertised,  informed,  and  satisfied  of  all 
things  in  the  world,  as  zvell  as  they  that  have  shortned  their 
lives  by  innumerable  travells  and  hifinite  daungers,  in  ronning 
over  the  whole  earth  that  is  inhabited :  whereas  on  the  contrary 
part,  they  that  are  ignorant  of  the  things  that  were  done  and 
come  to  passe  before  they  were  borne,  continue  stil  as  children, 
though  they  be  never  so  aged,  and  are  hut  as  straungers  in 
their  owne  native  contries.  To  he  short,  it  may  he  truely  sayd, 
that  the  reading  of  histories  is  the  schole  of  zvisedom,  to  facion 
mens  understa^iding,  hy  considering  advisedly  the  state  of  the 
world  that  is  past,  and  by  marking  diligently  by  what  lawes, 
maners,  and  discipline,  Empires,  kingdoms  and  dominions, 
have  in  old  time  bene  stahlished,  and  afterward  mainteyned 
and  increased :  or  contrarizvise  chaunged,  diminished,  and 
overthrowen.  Also  we  reade,  that  whensoever  the  right  sage 
and  vertuous  Emperour  of  Rome,  Alexander  Severus,  was  to 
consult  of  any  matter  of  great  importance,  whether  it  con- 
cerned warres  or  government:  he  alwayes  called  such  to 
counsell,  as  were  reported  to  he  well  scene  in  histories.  Not- 
zvithstanding,  I  know  there  are  that  will  stand  against  me  in 
12 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

this  poynt,  and  uphold  that  the  reading'  of  histories  can  serve 
to  small  purpose,  or  none  at  all,  towards  the  getting  of  skill  : 
hicause  skill  consisteth  in  action,  and  is  ingendred  by  the  very 
experience  and  practise  of  things,  when  a  man  doth  xvel  marke 
and  throughly  beare  away  the  things  that  he  hath  scene  tvith 
his  eyes,  and  found  true  by  proof  e,  according  to  the  saying  of 
the  aundent  Poet  Afranius  : 

My  name  is  skill,  my  Syre  Experience  hyght, 
And  memorie  bred  and  brought  me  forth  to  lyght. 

Which  thing  was  ment  likewise  by  the  Philosopher  that 
sayd,  that  the  hand  is  the  instrimient  of  skill.  By  reason 
whereof  it  comes  to  passe  (say  they)  that  stich  as  speake  of 
matters  of  government  and  state,  but  specially  of  matters  of 
warre  by  the  booke,  speake  but  as  booke  knights,  as  the  Frenche 
proverbe  termeth  them,  after  the  manner  of  the  Grcecians,  who 
call  him  a  booke  Pilot,  zohich  hath  not  the  sure  and  certaine 
knowledge  of  the  things  that  he  speakes  of :  meaning  thereby, 
that  it  is  not  for  a  man  to  trust  to  the  understanding  which 
he  hath  gotten  by  reading,  in  things  that  consist  in  the  deede 
doing,  where  the  hand  is  to  be  set  to  the  xoorke :  no  more  then 
the  often  hearing  of  men  talke  and  reasoii  of  paynting,  or  the 
disputing  uppon  colors,  without  taking  of  the  pensill  in  hand, 
can  stand  a  man  in  any  stead  at  all  to  make  him  a  good 
paynter.  But  on  the  contrary  piart,  many  have  pi'oved  wise 
men  and  good  Captaines,  zohich  could  neither  zvrite  nor  reade. 
Besides  this,  they  alleage  further,  that  in  matters  of  warre, 
all  things  alter  from  yeare  to  yeare :  by  meanes  whereof  the 
slights  and  policies  that  are  to  be  learned  out  of  bookes,  will 
serve  the  turne  no  more  than  mynes  that  are  blozaen  up. 
According  whereunto  Cambyses  telleth  his  sonyie  Cyrus  in 
Xenophon,  that  like  as  in  Musicke  the  nezvest  songs  a?'e  com- 
mmdy  best  liked  of  for  once,  bicause  they  zoere  never  heard 
afore :  So  in  the  war  res,  those  policies  that  never  were  practised 
afore,  are  those  that  take  best  successe,  and  commonly  have 
the  best  effect,  bicause  the  enemies  doe  least  doubt  of  them. 
Neverthelesse  I  am  not  he  that  will  mainteyne  that  a  wise 
governor  of  a  common  weale,  or  a  great  Captaine  can  be  made 
of  such  a  person,  as  hath  never  travelled  out  of  his  study,  and 

13 


AMIOT 

TO  THE 

READERS 


AMIOT 

TO  THE 

READERS 


Three  things 
necessary  for 
a  Magistrate, 
or  Captaine. 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

from  his  bookes :  howbeit  that  which  Cicero  writeth  of  Lucius 
LucuUus^  is  true^  that  when  he  departed  out  of  Rome  as 
Captaine  gene7-all  and  Lieuetenant  of  the  Romanes,  to  make 
warre  against  kinge  Mithridates,  he  had  no  experience  at  all 
of  the  loarres,  and  yet  afterward  he  bestowed  so  great  diligence 
in  the  reading  of  histories,  and  in  conferring-  uppon  every 
•poynt  with  the  olde  Captaines  and  men  of  longe  experience, 
whome  he  caried  with  him,  that  by  the  tyme  of  his  comming 
into  Asia,  where  he  xvas  in  deede  to  put  his  matters  in  execu- 
tion, he  was  found  to  be  a  very  sufficient  Captaine,  as  appeared 
by  his  deedes :  insomuch  that  by  those  wayes,  cleane  contrary 
to  the  common  oi'der  of  warre,  he  discomfited  two  of  the  most 
puyssant,  and  greatest  Princes  that  were  at  that  time  in  the 
East.  For  his  understanding  was  so  guicke,  his  care  so 
vigilant,  and  his  courage  so  greate,  that  he  needed  no  longe 
trayning,  nor  grosse  instruction  by  experience.  And  although 
I  graimt  there  have  beene  diverse  Governors  and  Captaynes, 
which  by  the  onely  force  of  nature  {furthered  by  longe  con- 
tinewed  experience)  have  done  goodly  and  greate  exploytes : 
yet  can  it  not  be  denyed  me,  hit  that  if  they  had  matched  the 
gftes  of  nature  with  the  knowledge  of  learning,  and  the 
reading  of  histories,  they  might  have  done  much  greater 
thinges,  and  they  might  have  becomen  much  more  perfect. 
For  like  as  in  every  other  cunning  and  skill  wherein  a  man 
intendeth  to  excell :  so  also  to  become  a  perfect  and  sufficient 
person  to  governe  in  peace  and  warre,  there  are  three  thinges 
of  necessitie  I'eguired,  namely,  nature,  art,  and  practise. 
Nattire  {in  the  case  that  we  treate  of)  must  furnishe  us  with 
a  good  moother  wit,  with  a  bodie  well  disposed  to  indm-e  all 
maner  of  travell,  and  with  a  good  will  to  advaunce  our  selves : 
Art  must  geve  us  judgement  and  kyioxoledge,  gotten  by  the 
examples  and  wise  discourses  that  we  have  read  and  double 
read  in  good  histories :  and  practise  will  get  us  readinesse, 
assurednesse,  and  the  ease  how  to  put  thinges  in  execution. 
For  though  skill  be  the  ruler  of  doing  the  deede,  yet  it  is  a 
vertue  of  the  minde  which  teacheth  a  man  the  meane  poynt, 
betweene  the  two  faultie  extremities  of  too  much  and  too  title, 
wherein  the  commendation  of  all  doinges  consisteth.  And 
whosoever  he  is  that  goeth  about  to  attaine  to  it  by  the  onely 
14 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

triall  of  expeneywe^  and  had  lever  to  learne  it  at  his  oxvne  cost,       AMIOT 

than  at  an  other  mans:  he  may  well  be  of' the  number  of' those      TO  THE 

that   are   touched  by   this   aunc'ient  proverbe,   which   sayth,    READERS 

Experience  is  the  schoolcmistresse  qfj'ooles :  bicause  mans  life  Proverbe. 

is  so  short,  and  experience  is  hard  and  daitngerons,  specially 

in  matters  of  xvarrc,  xchere'in  {according-  to  the  saying  of 

Tamachus  the  Athenian  Captaine)  a  man  can  not  fault  tzcice, 

bicause  the  faidtes  are  so  great,  that  most  commonly  they 

bring  w'lth  them  the  overthrow  of  the  state,  or  the  losse  of  the 

lives  of  those  that  do  them.     Therefore  we  must  not  tary  for 

this  wit  that  is  ivon  by  experience,  xchich  costeth  so  deere,  and 

is  so  long  a  comming,  that  a  man  is  oftt'imes  dead  in  the 

seeking  of  it  before  he  have  attained  it,  so  as  he  had  neede  of 

a  seconde  life  to  imploy  it  in,  bicause  of  the  overlate  comming 

by  it.     But  we  must  make  speede  by  our  diligent  and  con- 

tinuall  reading-  of  histories  both  old  and  new,  tJiat  we  may 

enjoy  this  happinesse  zvhich  the  Poet  speaketh  of: 

A  happie  wight  is  he  that  by  mishappes 
Of  others,  doth  beware  of  afterclappes. 

By  the  way,  as  concerning  those  that  saye  that  paper  will 
beare  all  things :  if  there  be  any  that  unworthily  take  upon 
them  the  name  of  histor'iographers,  and  deface  the  dignity  cyf 
the  story  for  hatred  or  foivor,  by  mingling  any  untrueth  with 
it:  that  is  not  the  foiult  of  the  historic,  but  of  the  men  that 
are  partial!,  xcho  abuse  that  name  iinxoorthily,  to  cover  and 
cloke  their  oxvne  passions  withall,  xchich  thing  shall  never 
come  to  passe,  if  the  xcriter  of  the  stor'ie  have  the  properties 
that  are  necessarily  required  in  a  stor'ie  xoriter,  as  these :  That 
he  set  aside  all  qffect'wn,  be  voyde  of  envy,  hatred  and  flattery : 
that  he  be  a  man  experienced  in  the  affa'ires  of  the  xcorld,  of 
good  utterance,  and  good  judgement  to  discerne  xchat  is  to  be 
sayd,  and  what  to  be  left  unsay d,  and  xchat  xcoidd  do  more 
harme  to  have  it  declared,  than  do  good  to  have  it  7-eproved  or 
condemned :  forasmuch  as  his  chiefe  drift  ought  to  be  to  serve 
the  common  weale,  and  that  he  is  but  as  a  register  to  set  downe 
the  judgements  and  definitive  sentences  of  Gods  Court,  whereof 
some  are  geven  according  to  the  oj'd'inar'ic  course  and  capacitie 
of  our  weake  naturall  reason,  and  other  some  goe  according  to 

15 


LIVES    OF    THE    NOBLE 


AMIOT  Gods  infinite  power  and  incomprehensible  wisedom,  above  and 
TO  THE  against  all  discourse  of  mans  understanding,  who  being  unable 
READERS  to  reach  to  the  bottome  of  his  judgements,  and  to  Jiiide  out  the 
first  motions  and  groundes  thereof,  do  impute  the  cause  of 
them  to  a  cei-taine  fortune,  which  is  nought  else  but  a  fained 
device  of  mans  xvit,  dazeled  at  the  beholding  of  such  bright- 
nesses and  confounded  at  the  gaging  of  so  bottomlesse  a  deepe, 
howbeit  nothing  commeth  to  passe  nor  is  done  withoict  the 
leave  of  him  that  is  the  verie  right  and  tru£th  it  selfe,  with 
whom  nothing  is  past  or  to  come,  and  who  hnoweth  and  under- 
standeth  the  very  origiyiall  causes  of  all  necessitie.  The  con- 
sideration whereof  teacheth  men  to  humble  them  selves  under  his 
mightie  hande  by  acTinoxvledging  that  there  is  one  first  cause 
which  ovemdeth  nature,  whereof  it  commeth,  that  neither 
hardinesse  is  alwaies  happie,  nor  wisedom  alwaies  sure  of  good 
successe.  These  so  notable  commodities  are  every  where  accom- 
panied with  singular  delight,  which  proceedeth  chiefly  of 
diversitie  and  novelty  wherein  our  nature  delighteth  and  is 
greatly  desiroiis  of:  bicause  ive  having  an  earnest  inclination 
towards  our  best  prosperity  and  advauncement,  it  goeth  on 
still,  seeking  it  in  every  thing  which  it  taJceth  to  be  goodly, 
or  good  in  this  woi'ld.  But  forasmuch  as  it  findeth  not  where- 
%  with  to  content  it  selfe  under  the  cope  of  heaven,  it  is  soone 
weary  of  the  things  that  it  had  earnestly  desired  aff^ore,  and 
so  goeth  on  wandring  in  the  unsJcilfulnes  of  her  likings 
wherqf  site  never  ceasseth  to  make  a  continuall  chaunging 
untill  she  have  fully  satisfied  her  desires,  by  attaining  to  the 
last  end,  which  is  to  be  knit  to  her  chief e  felicity,  whei'e  is  the 
full  perfection  of  cdl  goodlines  and  goodnes.  This  liking  of 
varietie  can  not  be  better  releeved,  than  by  that  zvhich  is  the 
finder  out  and  the  preserver  of  time,  the  father  of  all  noveltie, 
and  messenger  of  antiguitie.  For  if  we  Jinde  a  certaine 
singidar  pleasure,  in  hearkening  to  such  as  be  returned  from 
some  long  voyage,  and  doe  report  things  which  they  have 
scene  in  straunge  contries,  as  the  maners  qf  people,  the  natures 
of  places,  and  the  fashions  qf  lives,  differing  from  ours :  and 
(f  we  be  sometime  so  ravished  zvith  delight  and  pleasure  at 
the  hearing  of  the  talke  of  some  raise,  discreete,  and  well 
spoken  old  man,  from  whose  mouth  there  Jloweth  a  streame  qf 
16 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

speech  szveeter  than  honnie,  in  rehearsing  the  adventures  which 
he  hath  had  in  his  greene  and  youthfull  yeares,  the  paines  that 
he  hath  indured,  and  the  perills  that  he  hath  overpassed^  so  as 
zee  perceive  not  how  the  time  goeth  away :  how  much  more 
(night  we  he  ravished  with  delight  and  wondring,  to  behold 
the  state  of'  manlcind,  and  the  tnie  successe  of'  things,  which 
antiguitie  hath  and  doth  bring  forth  Jrom  the  heginn'ing  of 
the  world,  as  the  setting  up  of  Empires,  the  overthrow  of 
Monarchies,  the  r'ls'ing  and  fall'ing  of  Kingdoms,  and  all 
things  else  worthie  adviiration,  and  the  same  lively  set  forth 
in  the  fair  e,  rich,  and  true  table  of  eloqtience?  And  that  so 
lively,  as  in  the  very  reading  of  them  zee  feele  our  mindes  to 
be  so  touched  by  them,  not  as  though  the  thinges  were  alreadie 
done  and  past,  but  as  though  they  zoere  even  then  presently  in 
doing,  and  zcefinde  our  selves  caried  azvay  zcith  gladnesse  and 
grief'e  thrmigh  feare  or  hope,  well  neere  as  though  we  were 
then  at  the  do'ing  of  them  :  whereas  notwithstand'ing  we  be  not 
in  any  paine  or  daicnger,  bid  only  conceive  in  mir  mindes  the 
adversities  that  other  folkes  have  indured,  our  selves  sitting 
safe  with  our  contentcd'ion  and  ease,  according  to  these  verses 
of  the  Poet  Lucretiiis  : 

It  is  a  pleasure  for  to  sit  at  ease 

Upon  the  land,  and  safely  thence  to  see 

How  other  folkes  are  tossed  on  the  seaes, 

That  with  the  hlustring  windes  turmoyled  he. 

Not  that  the  sight  of  others  miseries 

Doth  any  way  the  honest  hart  delight, 

But  for  bicause  it  liketh  well  our  eyes. 

To  see  harmes  free  that  on  our  selves  might  light. 

/  Also  it  is  scene  that  the  reading  of  histories  doth  so  holde 
^  and  allure  good  wits,  that  divers  t'lmes  it  not  only  maJceth 
them  to  forget  all  other  pleasures,  bid  also  serveth  very  jittely 
to  turne  azoay  their  griefes,  and  somtimes  also  to  i-emed'ie  their 
diseases.  As  for  example,  zee  find  it  zoritten  of  Alphonsus 
King  of  Naples,  that  Prince  so  greatly  renowmed  in  Chronicles 
for  his  zoisedom  and  goodnesse,  that  being  sore  sicJce  in  the 
citie  of  Capia,  when  his  Phisitions  had  spent  all  the  cunning 
that  they  had  to  recover  him  his  health,  and  he  saw  that 
nothing-  prevailed:  he  determined  zv'ith  Mm  selfe  to  take  no 
C  17 


AMIOT 

TO  THE 

READERS 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

AMIOT      mo  medicines,  hutjbr  his  recreacion  caused  the  storie  of  Quintus 
TO  THE      Curtius,  concernirig  the  deedes  of  Alexander  the  great,  to  he 
READERS    red  before  him :  at  the  hearing  whereof  he  tooke  so  wonderjull 
pleasure,  that  nature  gathered  strength  hy  it,  and  overcame 
the  waywardnes  of  his  disease.      Whereicpon  having  soone 
recovered  his  helth,  he  discharged  his  Phisitions  with  such 
words  as  these :  Feast  me  no  more  with  your  Hippocrates  and 
Galene,  sith  they  can  no  skill  to  helpe  me  to  recover  my  helth : 
hut  well  fare  Quintus  Curtius  that  coidd  so  good  skill  to  helpe 
me  to  recover  my  helth.     Now  f  the  reading  and  knowledge 
of  histories  he  deUghtfidl  and  profitable  to  all  other  kind  of 
folke :  I  say  it  is  much  more  for  great  Princes  and  Kings, 
bicause  they  have  to  do  with  charges  of  greatest  weight  aiul 
difficultie,  to  be  best  stored  zoith  gftes  and  knowledge  for  the 
discharge  of  their  dueties :  seeing  the  ground  of  stories  is,  to 
treate  of  all  maner  of  high  matters  of  state,  as  war-res,  battells, 
cities,  contries,  treaties  of  peace  and  alliances,  and  therefore  it 
seemeth  more  fit  for  them,  than  for  any  other  kiride  of  degrees 
of  men :  bicause  they  being  bred  and  brought  up  tenderly,  and 
at  their  ease,  by  reasoji  of  the  great  regard  arid  care  that  is 
had  cf  their  persons,  (as  meete  is  for  so  great  states  to  have) 
they  take  not  so  great  paines  in  their  youth  for  the  learning 
of  things  as  behoveth  those  to  take  lohich  will  learne  the  noble 
aimcient  languages,  and  the  pahfull  doctrine  comprehended 
in  Philosophic.     Againe,  when  they  come  to  mans  state,  their 
charge  calleth  them  to  deale  in  great  affaires,  so  as  there 
remaineth  no  exercise  cf  wit  more  coiivenient  for  them,  than 
the  reading  of  histories  in  their  ozone  tunge,  which  without 
paine  is  able  to  teache  them  even  zoith  great  pleasure  and  ease, 
xohatsoever  the  painfull  zoorkes  of  the  Philosophers  concerning 
the  government  of  common  weales  can  shewe  them,  to  make 
tJiem  skilful  in  the  well  riding  and  governing  of  the  people 
and  contries  that  God  hath  put  under  their  subjection.     But 
the  worst  is,  that  they  ever  {or  for  the  most  part)  have  such 
maner  of  persons  about  them  as  seeke  nothing  els  but  to  please 
them  by  all  the  wayes  they  can,  and  there  are  very  fezo  that 
dare  tell  them  the  truth  freely  in  all  things :  whereas  on  the 
contrary  part,  an  history  fiattereth  them  not,  but  layeth  open 
before  their  eyes  the  faults  and  vices  of  mch  as  were  like  them 
18 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 


hi  greatnesse  of  degree.  And  therefore  Demetrius  Phalereus 
{a  man  renoiomed  asxvelljbr  his  skill  in  the  good  government 
of  a  common  loeale,  as  for  his  excellent  knowledge  otherwise) 
coicnselled  Ptolomy,  first  king  of  j^gypt  after  the  death  of 
Alexander  the  great^  that  he  should  often  and  diligently  reade 
the  bookes  that  treated  of  the  government  qfkingdomes^  bicause 
{sayd  he)  thou  shall  Jinde  many  things  there,  which  thy  ser- 
vaunts  and  familiar  friendes  dare  not  tell  thee.  Moreover, 
this  is  another  thinge,  that  suche  great  personages  can  not 
easily  travell  out  of  the  bounds  of  their  dominions,  to  goe 
view  straunge  contries  as  private  persons  doe :  bicause  the 
jelousie  of  their  estate,  and  the  regarde  of  their  dignitie, 
7-equires  that  they  should  never  be  in  place  where  another  man 
might  commaund  them.  And  often  times  for  xvant  of  having 
scene  the  contries,  and  knowen  the  people  and  Princes  that  are 
their  neighbours,  they  have  adventured  uppon  attempts  without 
good  ground:  to  avoyde  the  which,  the  instruction  they  may 
have  by  the  reading  of  histories,  is  one  of  the  easiest  and  fittest 
remedies  that  can  be  found.  And  though  there  were  none 
otlier  cause  then  onely  this  last,  surely  it  ought  to  induce 
Princes  to  the  often  and  diligent  reading  of  histories,  wherein 
are  written  the  heroicall  deedes  of  wise  and  valiant  men,  speci- 
ally of  kings  that  have  bene  before  them,  the  considering 
xvliereqf  may  cause  them  to  be  desirous  to  become  like  them, 
specially  which  were  of  stately  and  iwble  courage :  bicause  the 
seedes  of  Princely  vertues  that  are  bred  zvith  them  selves,  doe 
tlien  quicken  them  up  with  an  emulacion  towards  those  that 
have  beiw  or  are  equall  in  degree  with  them,  aswell  in  respect 
qfnoblenes  of  bloud,  as  of  greatnes  of  state,  so  as  tlwy  be  loth 
to  give  place  to  any  person,  and  much  lesse  can  find  in  their 
harts  to  be  outgone  in  glory  of  vertuous  doinges.  Whereof 
innumerable  examples  might  be  allcaged,  if  the  thing  were  not 
so  wel  knowen  of  it  self  that  it  were  much  more  against  reason 
to  doubt  of  it,  than  needefidl  to  prove  it.  Therefore  a  man 
may  truely  conclude,  that  an  historic  is  the  scholemistresse  of 
Princes,  at  zohose  hand  they  may  without  payne,  in  zvay  of 
pastyme,  and  with  singular  pleasure  learne  the  most  part  oj 
the  things  that  belonge  to  their  office.  Now,  mcording  to  the 
diversitie  of  the  matter  that  it  treat cth  of,  or  the  order  and 

19 


AMIOT 

TO  THE 

READERS 


LIVES    OF    THE    NOBLE 

AMIOT  manner  of  writing  that  it  tiseth,  it  hath  sondry  names  given 
TO  THE  unto  it :  But  yet  among  the  rest  there  are  two  chiefe  kinds. 
READERS  The  one  which  setteth  downe  mens  doings  arid  adventures  at 
length,  is  called  by  the  common  name  of  an  historic :  the  other 
which  declareth  their  natures,  sayings,  and  maners,  is  properly 
named  their  lives.  And  altlwugh  the  ground  of  them  both 
doe  cloze  very  neare  in  one,  yet  doth  the  one  respect  more  the 
things,  and  the  otJier  the  persons:  the  one  is  more  common, 
and  the  other  more  private :  the  one  concerneth  more  the 
things  that  are  zvithout  the  man,  and  the  other  the  things  thai 
proceede  from  within :  tlie  one  the  events,  the  other  the  con- 
sultacions :  betwene  the  zvhich  there  is  oftentymes  great  oddes, 
according  to  this  aunswer  of  the  Persian  Siramnes,  to  such  as 
marvelled  how  it  came  to  passe,  that  his  devises  being  so 
politike  had  so  unhappy  successe :  It  is  {quod  he)  bicause  my 
devises  are  wholly  from  my  own  ijivention,  but  the  effects  of 
them  are  in  the  disposition  of  fortune  and  the  king.  And 
surely  amonge  all  those  that  ever  have  taken  uppon  them  to 
xorite  the  lives  of  famous  men,  the  chiefe  prerogative,  by  the 
judgeme7it  of  such  as  are  clearest  sighted,  is  justly  given  to 
the  Greeke  Philosopher  Plutarke,  borne  in  the  citie  of  Choeronea 
in  the  contry  of  Bceotia,  a  noble  man,  perfect  in  all  rare  know- 
ledge, as  his  workes  may  well  put  men  out  of  doubt,  if  they 
lyst  to  read  tliem  through,  wlio  all  his  life  long  even  to  his 
old  age,  had  to  deale  in  affayres  of  the  common  zveale,  as  he 
him  selfe  witnesseth  in  divers  places,  specially  in  the  treatise 
which  he  intitled,  Whether  an  olde  man  ought  to  meddle 
with  the  government  of  a  common  weale  or  not :  and  who 
had  the  hap  and  Jionor  to  be  schoolemaster  to  the  Emprour 
Trajan,  as  is  commonly  beleeved,  and  as  is  expressely  pretended 
by  a  certaitie  Epistle  set  before  the  Latin  translation  of  his 
matter's  of  state,  zvhich  (to  say  the  truth)  seemeth  in  my  judge- 
ment to  be  somewhat  suspicious,  bicause  I  find  it  not  among 
his  workes  in  Greeke,  besides  that  it  speaketh  as  though  the 
booke  zvere  dedicated  to  Trajan,  zvhich  thinge  is  manifestly 
disproved  by  the  beginning  of  the  booke,  and  by  divers  other 
reasons.  Yet  notzvithstanding,  bicause  me  thinkes  it  is  sagely 
and  gravely  written,  and  well  beseeming  him :  I  have  set  it 
downe  here  in  this  place.  '  Plutarke  unto  Trajan  sendeth 
20 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

greeting".     I  hww  icell  that  the  modestie  of  your  nature  zvas 
not  desirous  of  Sovereintie^  though  you  have  ahcayes  inde- 
vored  to  deserve  it  by  your  honorable  conversation :  by  reason 
•wliereqf  you  have  bene  thought  so  much  the  worthier  of  it, 
as  you  have  bene  ^faunde  the  Jurther  erf  from  all  am.bitio7i. 
And  there/ore  I  do  now  rejoice  in  yo\ir  vertue  and  my  for- 
tune, if  it  be  so  great  as  to  cause  you  to  administer  that 
thing  icith  justice,  xvhich  you  have  obtained  by  desert.     For 
otherwise  I  am  sure  you  have  put  your  selfe  in  hazard  of 
great  daungers,  and  vie  in  perill  of  slaunderous  tongues, 
bicause  Rome  can  not  cnvay  with  a  zcicked  Emperour,  and  the 
common  voyce  of  the  people  is  alwaies  wont  to  cast  the  faultes 
of  the  schollers  in  the  teeth  of  their  schoolemaisters :  as  for 
example :  Seneca  is  railed  upon  by  slaunderous  tonges,  for  the 
faultes  of  his  scholler  Nero  :  the  scapes  of  Quintilians  young 
sdwllers  are  impided  to  Quintilian  him  selfe :  and  Socrates 
is  blamed,  for  being  too  myld  to  his  hearers.     But  as  for 
you,  thei'e  is  hope  you  shall  doe  all  things  well  enough,  so 
you  keepe  you  as  you  are.     If  you  first  set  your  selfe  in 
order,  and  tlien  dispose  all  other  things  according  to  vertue, 
all  things  shall  Jail  out  according  to  your  desire.     I  have  set 
you  downe  the  meanes  in  icriting,  which  you  must  observe  for 
the  well  governing  of  your  common  weale,  and  have  shelved 
yo\L  of  how  great  force  your  behaviour  may  be  in  that  behalfe. 
If  you  thinke  good  to  follow  those  thinges,  you  have  Plutarke 
for  the  directer  and  guider  of  your  Ife:  f  not,  I  protest 
unto  you  by  this  Epistle,  that  your  falling  into  daunger  to 
tJie  overthrow  of  the  Empire,  is  not  by  tlie  doctrine  of  Plutarke.'' 
This  Epistle  witnesseth  plainly  that  lie  was  tlie  schoolemaister 
of  Trajan,  which  thing  seemeth  to  be  avowed  by  this  writing 
of  Suidas :  Plutarke  being  borne  in  the  citie  of  Chccronea  in 
Boeotia,  was  in  the  time  of  the  Emperour  Trajan,  and  somichat 
affore.     But  Trajan  honored  him  icith  the  dignitie  of  Consul- 
ship, and  commaunded  the  officers  and  Magistrates  that  were 
throughout  all  the  contrie  of  Illyria,  that  they  should  not  do 
any  thing  zoithout  his  counsell  and  aidhoritie.    So  doth  Suidas 
write  of  him.     And  I  am  of  opinion,  that  Trcjan  being  so 
wise  an  Emperour,  would  never  liave  done  him  so  great  honor, 
if  he  had  not  thought  him  selfe  greatly  beholding  to  him  for 

21 


AMIOT 

TO  THE 

READERS 


LIVES    OF    THE    NOBLE 

AMIOT  some  speciall  cause.  But  the  thing  that  maketh  me  most  to  beleve 
TO  THE  it  true,  is,  that  the  same  goodnesse  ayid  Justice  appeared  to  be 
READERS  naturally  imprinted  in  most  of  Trajans  sayings  and  doings, 
whereof  the  paterne  and  mozvld  (as  a  man  might  terme  it)  is 
cast  and  set  downe  in  Plutarkes  Moi-alls,  so  as  men  may  per- 
ceive expressely,  that  the  one  coxdd  well  skill  to  performe  rightly, 
that  which  the  other  had  taught  wisely.  For  Dion  writeth, 
that  among  other  honors  which  the  Senate  of  Rome  gave  hy 
decree  unto  Trajan,  they  gave  him  the  title  of  the  Good 
Emperour.  And  Eutropius  reporteth  that  even  unto  his  time, 
when  a  new  Emperour  came  to  he  received  of  the  Senate, 
among  the  cries  of  good  hansell,  and  the  wishes  of  good  lucke 
that  were  made  unto  him,  one  was:  Happier  be  thou  than 
Augustus,  and  better  than  Trajan.  Howsoever  the  case 
stoode,  it  is  very  certaine  that  Plutarke  dedicated  the  collec- 
tion of  his  Apothegmes  unto  him.  But  when  he  had  lived  a 
long  time  at  Rome,  and  was  come  home  againe  to  his  ozone 
house,  he  Jell  to  writing  of  this  excellent  worke  of  Lives,  which 
he  calleth  Parallelon,  as  much  to  say,  as  a  cupling  or  matching 
togetJier,  bicause  he  matcheth  a  Grecian  with  a  Romane,  setting 
doivne  their  lives  ech  after  other,  and  comparing  them  together, 
as  hejbunde  any  likenesse  of  nature,  condicions,  or  adventw'es 
betwext  them,  and  examining  what  the  one  of  them  had  better 
or  worser,  greater  or  lesser  than  the  other :  which  things  he 
doth  with  so  goodly  and  grave  discourse  every  where,  taken 
out  of  the  deepest  and  most  hidden  secrets  of  morall  and 
naturall  Philosophic,  zoith  so  sage  precepts  and  frutefull 
instructions,  with  so  effectuall  commendation  of  vertue,  and 
detestation  of  vice,  with  so  many  goodly  allegacions  of  other 
authors,  with  so  many  Jit  comparisons,  and  zoith  so  many  high 
inventions :  that  the  booke  may  better  be  called  by  the  name  of 
tlie  Treasorie  of  all  rare  and  perfect  learning,  than  by  any 
other  name.  Also  it  is  sayd,  that  Thcodorus  Gaza,  a  Grecian 
of  singidar  learning,  and  a  worthie  of  the  aiincient  Greece, 
being  asked  on  a  time  by  his  familiar  frendes  {which  saw  him 
so  earnestly  given  to  his  studie,  that  lie  forgate  all  other 
things)  zohat  author  he  had  leverest  to  choose,  if  he  were  at 
that  poynt  that  he  must  needes  choose  some  one  to  holde  him  to 
alone,  did  aunswere  that  he  would  choose  Plutarke:  bicause 
22 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

that  if  they  were  all  put  together,  there  was  no  one  both  so 
profitable,  and  so  plea^aunt  to  read,  as  he.  Sosius  Senecio  to 
xohom  he  dedicateth  his  xoorke,  zcas  a  Senator  of  Home,  as 
witnesseth  Dion,  who  writeth  that  the  three  persons  zohom 
Trajan  most  loved  and  hoyiored,  were  Sosins,  Parma,  and 
Celsiis,  insomuch  that  he  caused  images  of  them  to  be  set  up. 
True  it  is  that  he  tvrote  the  lives  of'  many  other  men,  which 
the  spitefulnes  of  time  hath  bereft  us  of,  among  which  he  him- 
selfe  maketh  mention  of  the  lives  of  Scipio  Africanus,  and 
Metellus  Numidicus.  And  I  have  red  a  litle  Epistle  of  a 
Sonne  of  his,  whose  name  is  not  expressed,  copied  out  of  an 
olde  copie  in  the  LiHrarie  of  S.  Marke  in  Venice,  wherein  he 
writeth  to  afrende  of  his,  a  register  of  all  the  bookes  that  his 
father  made :  and  there  among  the  cupples  of  lives  he  setteth 
downe  the  lives  of  Scipio  and  Epaminondas,  and  lastly  the 
lives  of  Augustus  Cccsar,  of  Tiberius,  of  Caligula,  of  Claudius, 
of  Nero,  of  Galba,  of  Vitellius,  and  of  Otho.  But  having 
used  all  the  diligence  that  I  could  in  serching  the  chiefe 
Libraries  of  Venice,  and  Rome,  I  could  never  find  them  out. 
Onely  I  drew  out  certaine  diversities  of  readinges,  and  many 
corrections  by  conferring  the  old  xmitten  copies  with  the  printed 
bookes:  which  have  stoode  me  in  great  stead  to  the  under- 
standing of  many  hard  places :  and  there  are  a  great  number 
of  them  which  I  have  restored  by  conjecture,  by  the  judgement 
and  lielpe  of  such  men  of  this  age,  as  are  of  greatest  know- 
ledge in  humane  learning.  Yet  for  all  this,  there  remaine 
some  places  unamended,  hoxcbeit  very  Jewe,  bicause  some  lines 
were  wanting  in  the  originall  copies,  wliereqf  (to  my  seeming) 
it  was  better  Jbr  vie  to  witnesse  the  want  by  marking  it  zoith 
some  starre :  than  to  gesse  at  it  with  all  adventure,  or  to  adde 
any  thing  to  it.  Now  finally,  if  I  have  overshot  my  selfe  in 
any  thing,  as  it  is  verie  easie  to  do  in  so  hard  arid  long  a 
zcorke,  specially  to  a  man  of  so  small  abilitie  as  I  am :  I 
beseeche  the  Readers  to  wou£hsafe  for  my  discharge,  to  admit 
the  excuse  which  the  Poet  Horace  giveth  me,  where  he  sayth  : 

A  man  may  well  be  overseene 

In  workes  that  long  and  tedious  bene. 

Specially  sith  that  of  so  many  good  men,  and  men  of  skill 

23 


AMIOT 

TO  THE 

READERS 


LIVES    OF    THE    NOBLE 

AMIOT       as  have  heretofore  set  hand  to  the  translating  of  it,  there  was 

TO  THE      Tiever  yet  any  one  found  that  went  through  with  it  in  any 

READERS    language,  at  least  zoise  tliat  I  have  seene  or  heard  of:  and 

that  such  as  have  enterprised  to  translate  it,  specially  into 

Latin,  have  evidently  witnessed  the  hardnesse  thereof,  as  they 

may  easely  perceive  which  list  to  coivferre  their  translations 

with  mine.     Neverthelesse  if  it  so  fortune  that  men  find  not 

the  speech  of  this  translation  so  fioioing,  as  they  have  found 

some  other  of  mine,  that  are  abroad  in  mens  hands :  I  beseech 

the  readers  to  consider,  that  the  office  of  a  fit  translater,  con- 

sisteth  not  onely  in  the  Jaithfull  expressing  of  his  authors 

meaning,  but  also  in  a  certaine  resembling  and  shadowing  out 

of  the  forme  of  his  style  and  the  maner  of  his  speaking:  unlesse 

he  zvill  commit  the  errour  of  some  painters,  who  having  taken 

upon  them  to  draxo  a  man  lively,  do  paint  him  long  where  he 

shoidd  be  shoi't,  and  grosse  lohere  he  should  be  slender,  and  yet 

set  out  the  resemblance  of  his  countenance  naturally.    For  Jww 

harsh  or  rude  soever  my  speech  be,  yet  am  I  sure  that  my 

translation  will  be  much  easier  to  my  contriemen,  than  the 

Greeke  copie  is,  even  to  such  as  are  best  practised  in  the  Greeke 

tonge,  by  reason  of  Plutarkes  peculiar  inaner  of  inditing, 

which  is  rather  sharpe,  learned,  and  short,  than  plaine,  polished, 

and  easie.     At  the  hardest,  although  I  have  not  compassed 

my  matters  so  happily  as  ye  coulde  have  xcished  and  desired: 

yet  do  I  hope  that  your  Loidships  in  reading  it  will  hold  the 

parties  good  will  excused,  which  hath  taken  such  paines 

in  doing  of  it  to  profit  you.     And  if  my  labor  be  so 

happie,  as  to  content  you :  God  be  praised  for  it, 

which  hath  given  me  the  grace  to  finish  it. 


24 


THE  TABLE    OF  THE  NOBLE 
GRECIANS  AND  ROMANES 

compared  by  PLUTARKE  of  CHJERONEA 


VOLUME   I 


THESEUS      . 
ROMULUS     . 
LYCURGUS  . 
NUMA  POMPILIUS 
SOLON  . 
PUBLICOLA . 
THEMISTOCLES . 
FURIUS  CAMILLUS 


PAGE      29) 

68) 


compared  page  112 


!  compared 


199 


207 
249) 
282 
320 


y  compared     „     277 


D 


THE  LIVES  OF  THE  NOBLE 
GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

compared  together  by  that  grave  learned 
Philosopher  and  Historiographer 

PLUTARCHE  OF  CHiERONEA 


THE  LIFE  OF  THESEUS 


IKE  as  historiographers  describing  the  world 

(frende  Sossius  Senecio)  doe  of  purpose  Sossius  Sene- 
referre  to  the  uttermost  partes  of  their  cio  a  Senator 
mappes  the  farre  distant  regions  whereof  ^^  ^o^^- 
they  be  ignoraunt,  with  this  note  :  these 
contries  are  by  meanes  of  sandes  and 
drowthes  unnavigable,  rude,  full  of  veni- 
mous  beastes,  Scythian  ise,  and  frosen 
seas.  Even  so  may  I  (which  in  comparinge  noble  mens  lives 
have  already  gone  so  farre  into  antiquitie,  as  the  true  and 
certaine  historic  could  lead  me)  of  the  rest,  being  thinges 
past  all  proofe  or  chalenge,  very  well  say :  that  beyonde  this 
time  all  is  full  of  suspicion  and  dout,  being  delivered  us  by 
Poets  and  Tragedy  makers,  sometimes  without  trueth  and 
likelihoode,  and  alwayes  without  certainty.  Howbeit,  having 
heretofore  set  foorth  the  lives  of  Lycurgus  (which  established 
the  lawes  of  the  Lacedaemonians)  and  of  king  Numa  Pom- 
pilius :  me  thought  I  might  go  a  litle  further  to  the  life  of 
Romulus,  sence  I  was  come  so  nere  him.  But  considering 
my  selfe  as  the  Poet  ^Eschilus  did  : 

What  champion  may  with  such  a  man  compare  ? 

or  who  (thinke  I)  shalbe  against  him  set  ? 
Who  is  so  bold  ?  or  who  is  he  that  dare 

defend  his  force^  in  such  encounter  met  ? 

In  the  end  I  resolved  to  match  him  which  did  set  up  the 
noble  and  famous  city  of  Athens,  with  him  which  founded 
the  glorious  and  invincible  city  of  Rome.  Wherein  I  would 
wishe  that  the  inventions  of  Poets,  and  the  traditions  of 
fabulous  antiquitie,  would  suffer  them  selves  to  be  purged 

29 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

THESEUS  and  reduced  to  the  forme  of  a  true  and  historicall  reporte  : 

but  when  they  square  too  much  from  likelyhode,  and  can  not 

be  made  credible,  the  readers  will  of  curtesie  take  in  good 

parte  that,  which  I  could  with  most  probability  wryte  of 

Theseus  and     such  antiquities.     Now  surely  me  thinkes,  that  Theseus  in 

Romulus  very  many  thinges  was  much  like  unto  Romulus.      For  being 

^^"  both  begotten  by  stealth,  and  out  of  lawful  matrimony  : 

both  were  reputed  to  be  borne  of  the  seede  of  the  goddes. 

Both  valiant  were^  as  all  the  world  doth  know. 

Both  joyned  valiancy  with  government.     The  one  of  them 

built  Rome,  and  the  other,  by  gathering  into  one  dispersed 

people,  erected  the  citie  of  Athens  :  two  of  the  most  noble 

cities  of  the  worlde.     The  one  and  the  other  were  ravishers 

of  women  :  and  neither  thone  nor  thother  coulde  avoyde  the 

mischiefe  of  quarrell  and  contention  with  their  frendes,  nor 

the  reproch  of  staining  them  selves  with  the  blood  of  their 

nearest  kinsemen.      Moreover,  they  say  that  both  the  one 

and  the  other  in  the  end  did  get  the  hate  and  ill  will  of 

their  citizens  :  at  the  least  if  we  will  beleve  that  reporte  of 

The  linage  of  Theseus,  which  carieth  greatest  show  of  trueth.     Theseus  of 

Theseus.  his  fathers  side,  was  descended  of  the  right  linage  of  Erictheus 

the  great,  and  of  the  first  inhabitants  which  occupied  the 

contrie  of  Attica,  the  which  since  were  called  Autocthones, 

as  much  to  say,  as  borne  of  them  selves.     For  there  is  no 

memorie,  or  other  mention  made,  that  they  came  out  of  any 

other  contry  then  that.     And  of  his  mothers  side  he  came  of 

Pelops,    king  Pelops,  who  was  in  his  time  the  mightiest  king  of  all  the 

ofPelopon-      contrie  of  Peloponnesus,  not  so  much  for  his  goodes  and 

nesus.  richesse,  as  for  the  number  of  children  which  he  had.     For 

his  daughters  which  were  many  in  number,  he  bestowed  on 

the  greatest  Lordes  of  all  the  contrie  :  his  sonnes  also,  which 

likewise  were  many,  he  dispersed  into  diverse  cities  and  free 

townes,  findinge  meanes  to  make  them  governors  and  heades 

Pitheus  the      of  the  same.    Pitheus,  grandfather  to  Theseus  on  the  mothers 

grandfather     side,  was  one  of  his  sonnes,  and  founded  the  litle  city  of 

of  Theseus.      TrcEzen,  and  was  reputed  to  be  one  of  the  wisest  men  of  his 

time.     But  the  knowledge  and  wisedom,  which  onely  caried 

estimacion  at  that  time,    consisted    altogether    in    grave 

30 


\ 


\ 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

sentences,  and  morall  sayinges.     As  those  are  which  wanne  THESEUS 
the  Poet  Hesiodus  such  fame  for  his  booke  intituled,  The  The  wisedom 
workes  and  dayes  :  in  the  which  is  read  even  at  this  present,  ^^  Pitheus. 
this  goodly  sentence,  which  they  father  upon  Pitheus  : 

Thou  shalt  performe,  thy  promise  and  thy  pay  : 
to  hyred  merij  and  that  without  delay. 

And  this  doth  Aristotle  the  Philosopher  himselfe  testifie  : 
and  the  Poet  Euripides  also,  calling  Hippolytus  the  scholler 
of  the  holy  Pitheus,  doth  sufficiently  declare  of  what  estima- 
cion  he  was.    But  iEgeus  desiring  (as  they  say)  to  know  how  Jilgeus  the 
he  might  have  children,  went  unto  the  city  of  Delphes  to  father  of 
the  oracle  of  Apollo  :  where  by  Apolloes  Nunne  that  notable     ^eseus. 
prophecy  was  geven  him  for  an  aunswer.    The  which  did  for- 
bid him  to  touch  or  know  any  woman,  untill  he  was  returned 
againe  to  Athens.     And  bicause  the  words  of  this  prophecy 
were  somewhat  darke,  and  hard  :   he  tooke  his  way  by  the 
city  of  Troezen,  to  tell  it  unto  Pitheus.     The  wordes  of  the 
prophecy  were  these : 

O  thou  which  art  a  gemme  of  perfect  grace, 

plucke  not  the  tappe,  out  of  thy  trusty  toonne  : 
Before  thou  do,  returne  unto  thy  place, 

in  Athens  towne,  from  whence  thy  race  doth  roonne. 

Pitheus  understanding  the  meaning,  perswaded  him,  or 
rather  cunningly  by  some  devise  deceived  him  in  such  sorte, 
that  he  made  him  to  lye  with  his  daughter  called  ^Ethra.  ^thra  the 
^Egeus  after  he  had  accompanied  with  her,  knowing  that  she  daughter  of 
was  Pitheus  daughter  with  whom  he  had  lyen,  and  douting  ^'"^g'  Pitheus, 
that  he  had  gotten  her  with  child  :  left  her  a  sword  and  a  mother  of 
payer  of  shoes,  the  which  he  hidde  under  a  great  hollow  Theseus, 
stone,  the   hollownes   wherof  served  just  to  receive  those 
things  which  he  layed  under  it,  and  made  no  living  creature 
privy  to  it  but  her  alone,  straightly  charging  her,  that  if 
she  happened  to  have  a  sonne,  when  he  were  come  to  mans 
state,  and  of  strength  to  remove  the  stone,  and  to  take  those 
things  from  under  it  which  he  left  there  :  that  she  should 
then  sende  him  unto  him  by  those  tokens,  as  secretly  as  she 
could,  that  no   body  els  might  knowe  of  it.     For  he  did  The  Pallan- 
greatly  feare  the  children  of  one  called  Pallas,  the  which  tides. 

31 


LIVES    OF   THE  NOBLE 

THESEUS  laye  in  wayte  and  spyall  by  all  the  meanes  they  could  to 
kill  him,  only  of  despight  bicause  he  had  no  children,  they 
Pallas  had        being  fiftie  brethern,  and  all  begotten  of  one  father.     This 
fiftie  souues,     done,  he  departed  from  her.    And  JEthra  within  fewe  moneths 
after  was  delivered  of  a  goodly  sonne,  the  which  from  that 
Why  Theseus  time  was  called  Theseus  :  and  as  some  say,  so  called,  bicause 
was  so  called,  of  the  tokens  of  knowledge  his  father  had  layed  under  the 
stone.     Yet  some  others  write,  that  it  was  afterwardes  at 
Athens  when  his  father  knewe  him,  and  avowed  him  for  his 
Sonne.      But  in  the  meane  time,  during  his  infancie  and 
childehood,  he  was  brought  up  in  the  house  of  his  grand- 
father Pitheus,  under  the  government  and  teaching  of  one 
Connidas         called  Connidas,  his  schoolemaster  :  in  honour  of  whom  the 
Theseus  Athenians  to  this  daye  doe  sacrifice  a  weather,  the  daye 

schoole-  before  the  great  feaste  of  Theseus,  having  more  reason  to 

honour  the  memorye  of  this  governour,  then  of  a  Silanion 
and  of  a  Parrhasius,  to  whom  they  doe  honour  also,  bicause 
they  paynted  and  caste  mowldes  of  the  images  of  Theseus. 
A  custome  to    Now  there  was  a  custome  at  that  time  in  Grece,  that  the 
offer  heares      yong  men  after  their  infancie  and  growth  to  mans  state, 
at  Delphes.      ^yent  unto  the  cittie  of  Delphes,  to  offer  parte  of  their  heares 
in  the  temple  of  Apollo.    Theseus  also  went  thither  as  other 
did  :  and  some  saye  that  the  place  where  the  ceremonie  of 
this  offering  was  made,  hath  ever  sence  kept  the  olde  name, 
Theseia,  (and  yet  continueth)  Theseia.     Howbeit  he  dyd  not  shave 

Theseus  man-  his  head  but  before  only,  as  Homer  sayeth,  like  the  facion  of 
er  of  shaving.  i}iq  Abantes  in  olde  time  :  and  this  manner  of  shaving  of 
heares,  was  called  for  his  sake,  Theseida.  And  as  concerning 
The  Abantes.  the  Abantes,  in  trothe  they  were  the  very  first  that  shaved 
them  selves  after  this  facion  :  nevertheles  they  learned  it 
not  of  the  Arabians  as  it  was  thought  of  some,  neither  dyd 
they  it  after  the  imitation  of  the  Missians.  But  bicause 
they  were  warlike  and  valliant  men,  which  did  joyne  neere 
unto  their  enemie  in  battell,  and  above  all  men  of  the  worlde 
were  skilfuUest  in  fight  hande  to  hande,  and  woulde  keepe 
their  grounde :  as  the  Poet  Archilochus  witnesseth  in  these 
verses : 

They  use  no  slynges  in  foughten  fields  to  have, 

nor  bended  bowes  :  but  swords  and  trenchant  blades. 
32 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

For  when  fierce  Mars  beginneth  for  to  rave,  THESEUS 

in  bloody  field :  then  every  man  invades 
His  fiercest  foe,  and  fighteth  hand  to  hand. 

then  doe  they  deeds,  right  cruell  to  reconpt. 
For  in  this  wise,  the  brave  and  warlike  bande 

do  shew  their  force  which  come  from  Negrepont. 

The  cause  why  they  were  thus  shaven  before,  was,  for  that  The  cause  of 

their  enemies  should  not  have  the  vauntage  to  take  them  by  shaving  their 

the  heares  of  the  head  while  they  were  fighting.     And  for  ^^^'"^^  ^^^"''^• 

this   selfe   same   consideration,    Alexander   the   great  com-  Alexander 

maunded    his   captaines  to   cause   all  the    Macedonians  to  ^^^8?,"^  m&de 

shave   their   beards :    bicause  it   is   the  easiest   holde  (and  ^j^^^  shave" 

readiest  for  the  hande)  a  man  can  have  of  his  enemie  in  ^heir  beardes. 

fighting,  to  holde  him  fast  by  the  same.     But  to  retume  to 

Theseus.     iEthra  his  mother  had  ever  unto  that  time  kept 

it  secret  from  him,  who  was  his  true  father.     And  Pitheus 

also  had  geven    it  out   abroade,  that  he  was  begotten    of  Theseus  said 

Neptune,  bicause  the   Troezenians  have  this  god  in   great  ^^  "®  Nep- 

^,.  jj  1.  1.  ,  °j         i,       tunes  Sonne, 

veneration,  and  doe  worshippe  him  as  patron  and  protector 

of  their  cittie,  making  offerings  to  him  of  their  first  fruites  : 
and  they  have  for  the  marke  and  stampe  of  their  money,  the  The  Troeze- 
three  picked  mace,  which  is  the  signe  of  Neptune,  called  his  ^tamned^wi^h 
Trident.     But  after  he  was  comen  to  the  prime  and  lustines  Neptunes 
of  his  youth,  and  that  with  the  strength  of  his  bodie  he  three  picked 
shewed  a  great  courage,  joyned  with  a  naturall  wisedome,  and  niace. 
stayednes  of  wit :  then  his  mother  brought  him  to  the  place 
where  this  great  hollowe  stone  laye,  and  telling  him  truely 
the  order  of  his  birth,  and  by  whom  he  was  begotten,  made  Theseus 
him  to  take  his  fathers  tokens  of  knowledge,  which  he  had  y^^^he. 
hidden  there,  and  gave  him  counsell  to  goe  by  sea  to  Athens 
unto  him.     Theseus  easilye  lyft  up  the  stone,  and  tooke  his 
fathers  tokens  from  under  it :  Howbeit  he  answered  playnely, 
that  he  would  not  goe  by  sea,  notwithstanding  that  it  was 
a  great  deale  the  safer  waye,  and  that  his  mother  and  grand- 
father both  had  instantly  intreated  him,  bicause  the  waye 
by  lande  from  Troezen  to  Athens  was  very  daungerous,  all  Great  robbing 
the  wayes  being  besett  by  robbers  and  murderers.     For  the  J?  Theseus 
worlde  at  that  time  brought  forth  men,  which  for  strong-  ^^t.  i. 
nesse  in  their  armes,  for  swyftnes  of  feete,  and  for  a  generall 
E  33 


Hercules  a 
destroyer  of 
theeves. 


LIVES   OF   THE    NOBLE 

THESEUS  strength  of  the  whole  bodye,  dyd  farre  passe  the  common 
force  of  others,  and  were  never  wearie  for  any  labour  or 
travell  they  tooke  in  hande.  But  for  all  this,  they  never 
employed  these  giftes  of  nature  to  any  honest  or  profitable 
thing,  but  rather  delighted  villanously  to  hurte  and  wronge 
others :  as  if  all  the  fruite  and  profit  of  their  extraordinary 
strength  had  consisted  in  crueltye,  and  violence  only,  and  to 
be  able  to  keepe  others  under  and  in  subjection,  and  to  force, 
destroye,  and  spoyle  all  that  came  to  their  handes.  Thinck- 
ing  that  the  more  parte  of  those  which  thincke  it  a  shame  to 
doe  ill,  and  commend  justice,  equitie,  and  humanitie,  doe  it 
of  fainte  cowardly  heartes,  bicause  they  dare  not  wronge 
others,  for  feare  they  should  receyve  wronge  them  selves : 
and  therefore,  that  they  which  by  might  could  have  vauntage 
over  others,  had  nothing  to  doe  with  suche  quiet  qualities. 
Nowe  Hercules,  travailling  abroade  in  the  worlde,  drave 
awaye  many  of  those  wicked  thevishe  murderers,  and  some 
of  them  he  slewe  and  put  to  death,  other  as  he  passed 
through  those  places  where  they  kept,  dyd  hide  them  selves 
for  feare  of  him,  and  gave  place  :  in  so  much  as  Hercules, 
perceyving  they  were  well  tamed  and  brought  lowe,  made  no 
further  reckoning  to  pursue  them  any  more.  But  after  that 
by  fortune  he  had  slayne  Iphitus  with  his  owne  handes,  and 
that  he  was  passed  over  the  seas  into  the  countrye  of  Lydia, 
Hercules  serv-  where  he  served  Queene  Omphale  a  long  time,  condemning 
eth  Omphale.  him  selfe  unto  that  voluntarie  payne,  for  the  murder  he  had 
committed.  All  the  Realme  of  Lydia  during  his  abode 
there,  remained  in  great  peace  and  securitie  from  such  kynde 
of  people,  Howbeit  in  Grece,  and  all  thereabouts,  these 
olde  mischiefes  beganne  againe  to  renue,  growing  hotter 
and  violenter  then  before :  bicause  there  was  no  man  that 
punished  them,  nor  that  durst  take  upon  him  to  destroye 
them.  By  which  occasion,  the  waye  to  goe  from  Pelopon- 
nesus to  Athens  by  lande  was  very  perillous.  And  therefore 
Pitheus  declaring  unto  Theseus,  what  manner  of  theeves  there 
were  that  laye  in  the  waye,  and  the  outrages  and  villanies 
they  dyd  to  all  travellers  and  wayefaring  men,  sought  the 
rather  to  perswade  him  thereby  to  take  his  voyage  alonge 
the  seas.  Howbeit  in  mine  opinion,  the  fame  and  glorie  of 
34 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

Hercules  noble  dedes,  had  long  before  secretly  sett  his  hearte  THESEUS 
on  fire,  so  that  he  made  reckoning  of  none  other  but  of  him,  Theseus 
and  lovingly  hearkened  unto  those  which  woulde  seeme  to  foloweth 
describe  him  what  manner  of  man  he  was,  but  chiefly  unto  Hercules, 
those  which  had  scene  him,  and  bene  in  his  companye,  when 
he  had  sayed  or  done  any  thing  worthy  of  memorye.     For 
then  he  dyd  manifestly  open  him  selfe,  that  he  felt  the  like 
passion  in  his  hearte,  which  Themistocles  long  time  after- 
wardes   endured,    when    he   sayed :    that    the   victorie   and 
triumphe  of  Miltiades  would  not  lett  him  sleepe.     For  even  Desire  of 
so,  the  wonderfull  admiration  which  Theseus  had  of  Hercules  fame  pricketh 
corage,  made  him  in  the  night  that  he  never  dreamed  but  of  '"^^  forward 
his  noble  actes  and  doings,  and  in  the  daye  time,  pricked  p^jfes* 
forwardes  with  emulation  and  envie  of  his  glorie,  he  deter- 
mined with  him  selfe  one  daye  to  doe  the  like,  and  the 
rather,  bicause  they  were  neere  kynsemen,  being  cosins  re- 
moved by  the  mothers  side.     For  ^thra  was  the  daughter  Theseus  and 
of  Pitheus,  and  Alcmena  (the  mother  of  Hercules)  was  the  Hercules  nere 
daughter  of  Lysidices,  the  which  was  halfe  sister  to  Pitheus,  *^ynsemen. 
bothe  children  of  Pelops  and  of  his  wife  Hippodamia.     So 
he  thought  he  should  be  utterly  shamed  and  disgraced,  that 
Hercules  travelling  through  the  worlde  in  that  sorte,  dyd 
seeke  out  those  wicked  theeves  to  rydde  both  sea  and  lande 
of  them :  and  that  he,  farre  otherwise,  should  flye  occasion 
that  might  be  offered  him,  to  fight  with  them  that  he  should 
meete  on  his  waye.     Moreover,  he  was  of  opinion  he  should 
greately  shame  and  dishonour  him,  whom  fame  and  common 
bruite  of  people  reported  to  be  his  father :  if  in  shonning 
occasion  to  fight,  he  should  convey  him  selfe  by  sea,  and 
should  carie  to  his  true  father  also  a  paire  of  shooes,  (to 
make  him  knowen  of  him)  and  a  sworde  not  yet  bathed  in 
bloude.     Where  he  should  rather  seeke  cause,  by  manifest 
token  of  his  worthie  deedes,  to  make  knowen  to  the  worlde, 
of  what  noble  bloude  he  came,  and  from  whence  he  was 
descended.     With  this  determination,  Theseus  holdeth   on 
his   purposed  jorney,    with    intent   to  hurte   no  man,   yet 
to  defende  him  selfe,  and  to  be  revenged   of  those  which 
woulde  take   upon  them  to  assault  him.     The  first  there- 
fore whom    he   slewe   within   the   territories    of  the   cittie 

35 


THESEUS 

Periphetes 
Corinetes,  a 
famous  rob- 
ber, slayne  of 
Theseus. 

Theseus 
caried  the 
clubbe  he 
wanne  of  Pe- 
riphetes, as 
Hercules  did 
the  lions  skin. 

Sinnis  Pityo- 
camtes,  a 
cruel  mur- 
therer  slaine. 


Perigouna 
Sinnis  daugh- 
ter. 


Theseus  be- 
gatte  Mena- 
lippus  of 
Perigouna. 
loxus,  Mena- 
lippus  Sonne. 
loxides. 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

of  Epidaurum,  was  a  robber  called  Periphetes.  This  robber 
used  for  his  ordinarie  weapon  to  carie  a  clubbe,  and  for 
that  cause  he  was  commonly  surnamed  Corynetes,  that  is 
to  saye,  a  clubbe  caryer.  So  he  first  strake  at  Theseus  to 
make  him  stande :  but  Theseus  fought  so  lustely  with  him, 
that  he  killed  him.  Whereof  he  was  so  glad,  and  chiefly 
for  that  he  had  wonne  his  clubbe,  that  ever  after  he  caryed 
it  him  selfe  about  with  him,  as  Hercules  dyd  the  lyons 
skynne.  And  like  as  this  spoyle  of  the  lyon  dyd  witnesse 
the  greatnes  of  the  beast  which  Hercules  had  slayne :  even 
so  Theseus  went  all  about,  shewing  that  this  clubbe  which 
he  had  gotten  out  of  anothers  hands,  was  in  his  owne 
handes  invincible.  And  so  groinff  on  further,  in  the  streightes 
of  Peloponnesus  he  killed  another,  called  Sinnis  surnamed 
Pityocamtes,  that  is  to  saye,  a  wreather,  or  bower  of  pyne 
apple  trees :  whom  he  put  to  death  in  that  selfe  cruell 
manner  that  Sinnis  had  slayne  many  other  travellers  before. 
Not  that  he  had  experience  thereof,  by  any  former  practise 
or  exercise  :  but  only  to  shewe,  that  cleane  strength  coulde 
doe  more,  then  either  arte  or  exercise.  This  Sinnis  had  a 
goodly  fayer  daughter  called  Perigouna,  which  fled  awaye, 
when  she  sawe  her  father  slayne :  whom  he  followed  and 
sought  all  about.  But  she  had  hydden  her  selfe  in  a  grove 
full  of  certen  kyndes  of  wilde  pricking  rushes  called  Stoebe, 
and  wilde  sparage,  which  she  simplye  like  a  childe  intreated 
to  hyde  her,  as  if  they  had  heard  and  had  sense  to  vmder- 
stand  her  :  promising  them  with  an  othe,  that  if  they  saved 
her  from  being  founde,  she  would  never  cutt  them  downe, 
nor  burne  them.  But  Theseus  fynding  her,  called  her,  and 
sware  by  his  faith  he  would  use  her  gently,  and  doe  her  no 
hurte,  nor  displeasure  at  all.  Upon  which  promise  she 
came  out  of  the  bushe,  and  laye  with  him,  by  whom  she  was 
conceyved  of  a  goodly  boye,  which  was  called  Menalippus. 
Afterwardes  Theseus  maried  her  unto  one  Deioneus,  the 
Sonne  of  Euritus  the  Oechalian.  Of  this  Menalippus,  the 
Sonne  of  Theseus,  came  loxus :  the  which  with  Ornytus 
brought  men  into  the  countrye  of  Caria,  where  he  buylt  the 
cittie  of  loxides.  And  hereof  cometh  that  olde  auncient 
ceremonie,  observed  yet  unto  this  daye  by  those  of  loxides, 
36 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

never  to  burne  the  bryars  of  wilde  sparage,  nor  the  Stoebe,  THESEUS 
but  they  have  them  in  some  honour  and  reverence.     Touch- 
ino-  the  wilde  savage  sowe  of  Crommyon,  otherwise  surnamed  Phaea  the 
Phaea,  that  is  to  saye,  overgrowen  with  age  :  she  was  not  a  wUde  sowe  of 
beast  to  be  made  light  account  of,  but  was  very  fierce,  and     i'9"^"^yon 
terrible  to  kyll.     Theseus  notwithstanding  taryed  for  her, 
and  kylled  her  in  his  jorney,  to  the  ende  it  shoulde  not 
appeare  to  the  worlde,  that  all  the  valliant  deedes  he  dyd, 
were  done  by  compulsion,  and  of  necessitie  :  adding  thereto 
his  opinion  also,  that  a  valliant  main  should  not  onely  fight 
with  men,  to  defend  him  selfe  from  the  wicked  :  but  that  he 
should  be  the  first,  to  assaulte  and  slaye  wilde  hurtefuU 
beastes.     Nevertheles  others  have  written,  that  this  Phaea  Phaea  a  wo- 
was  a  woman  robber,  a  murderer,  and  naught  of  her  bodye,  "^^^  theefe. 
which  spoyled  those  that  passed  by  the  place  called  Crom- 
myonia,  where  she  dwelt :    and  that  she  was  surnamed  a 
sowe,  for  her  beastly  brutishe  behaviour,  and  wicked  life,  for 
the  which  in  the  ende  she  was  also  slayne  by  Theseus,    After 
her  he  kylled  Sciron,  entring  into  the  territories  of  Megara,  Sciron  a  not- 
bicause  he  robbed  all  travellers  by  the  waye,  as  the  common  ^^^®  robber, 
reporte  goeth  :  or  as  others  saye,  for  that  of  a  cruell,  wicked,  (jo^ng  tjjg 
and  savage  pleasure,  he  put  forth  his  feete  to  those  that  rocks  by 
passed  by  the  sea  side,  and  compelled  them  to  washe  them.  Theseus, 
And  then  when  they  thought  to  stowpe  to  doe  it,  he  still 
spurned  them  with  his  feete,  till  he  thrust  them  hedlong 
into  the  sea  :    so  Theseus  threw  him  hedlong  downe  the 
rockes,      Howbeit  the  writers  of  Megara  impugning  this 
common  reporte,  and  desirous  (as  Simonides  sayeth)  to  over- 
throwe  it  that  had  continued  by  prescription  of  time :   dyd 
mainteine  that  this  Sciron  was  never  any  robber,  nor  wicked 
persone,  but  rather  a  pursuer  and  punisher  of  the  wricked, 
and  a  friend  and  a  kynseman  of  the  most  honest,  and  j  ustest 
men  of  Grece,     For  there  is  no  man  but  will  confesse,  that 
iEacus  was  the  most  vertuous  man  among  the  Grecians  in  ^acus, 
his  time,  and  that  Cychreus  the  Salaminian  is  honoured  and  Cychreus. 
reverenced  as  a  god  at  Athens  :   and  there  is  no  man  also 
but  knoweth,  that  Peleus  and  Telamon  were  men  of  singular 
vertue,     Nowe  it  is  certeine,  that  this  Sciron  was  the  sonne 
in  lawe  of  Cychreus,  father  in  lawe  of  ^acus,  and  grand- 

37 


THESEUS 


Cercyon  the 
Arcadian 
slaine  of 
Theseus  by 
wrestling. 

Damastes 
Procrustes  a 
cruel  mur- 
therer,  slaine 
of  Theseus. 

Hercules 
doings. 

Termerus 
evill. 


Cephisus,  a  ri- 
ver of  Boeotia. 

The  Phy- 
talides  the 
first  men 
that  feasted 
Theseus  in 
their  houses. 

This  sacrifice 
Plutarchecall- 
eth  Milichia. 


LIVES    OF    THE    NOBLE 

father  of  Peleus  and  of  Telamon,  the  which  two  were  the 
children  of  Endeida,  the  daughter  of  the  sayed  Sciron,  and 
of  his  wife  Charielo.  Also  it  is  not  very  likely,  that  so 
many  good  men  would  have  had  affinitie  with  so  naughty 
and  wicked  a  man :  in  taking  of  him,  and  geving  him  that, 
which  men  love  best  of  all  things  in  the  worlde.  And 
therefore  the  Historiographers  saye,  that  it  was  not  the 
first  time,  when  Theseus  went  unto  Athens,  that  he  killed 
Sciron :  but  that  it  was  many  dayes  after,  when  he  tooke 
the  cittie  of  Eleusin,  which  the  Megarians  helde  at  that 
time,  where  he  deceyved  the  governour  of  the  cittie  called 
Diodes,  and  there  he  slewe  Sciron.  And  these  be  the  objec- 
tions the  Megarians  alledged  touching  this  matter.  He 
slewe  also  Cercyon  the  Arcadian,  in  the  cittie  of  Eleusin, 
wrestling  with  him.  And  going  a  litle  further,  he  slewe 
Damastes,  otherwise  surnamed  Procrustes,  in  the  cittie  of 
Hermionia :  and  that  by  stretching  on  him  out,  to  make 
him  even  with  the  length  and  measure  of  his  beddes,  as  he 
was  wont  to  doe  unto  straungers  that  passed  by.  Theseus 
dyd  that  after  the  imitation  of  Hercules,  who  punished 
tyrannes  with  the  selfe  same  payne  and  torment,  which  they 
had  made  others  suffer.  For  even  so  dyd  Hercules  sacrifice 
Busiris.  So  he  stifled  Antheus  in  wrestling.  So  he  put 
Cycnus  to  death,  fighting  with  him  man  to  man.  So  he 
brake  Termerus  heade,  from  whom  this  proverbe  of  Termerus 
evill  came,  which  continueth  yet  unto  this  daye  :  for  this 
Termerus  dyd  use  to  put  them  to  death  in  this  sorte  whom 
he  met :  to  jolle  his  head  against  theirs.  Thus  proceeded 
Theseus  after  this  selfe  manner,  punishing  the  wicked  in 
like  sorte,  justly  compelling  them  tabyde  the  same  payne 
and  torments,  which  they  before  had  unjustly  made  others 
abyde.  And  so  he  helde  on  his  jorney  untill  he  came  to  the 
river  of  Cephisus,  where  certaine  persones  of  the  house  of 
the  Phytalides  were  the  first  which  went  to  meete  him,  to 
honour  him,  and  at  his  request  they  purified  him  according 
to  the  ceremonies  used  at  that  time :  and  afterward  es  having 
made  a  sacrifice  of  propitiation  unto  their  goddes,  they  made 
him  great  chere  in  their  houses  :  and  this  was  the  first  notable 
enterteinment  he  founde  in  all  his  jorney.  It  is  supposed 
38 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

he  arrived  in  the  cittie  of  Athens,  the  eight  daye  of  the  THESEUS 
moneth  of  June,  which  then  they  called  Cronius.  He  found 
the  comon  wealth  turmoyled  with  seditions,  factions,  and 
divisions,  and  perticularly  the  house  of  ^Egeus  in  very  ill 
termes  also,  bicause  that  Medea  (being  banished  out  of  the 
cittie  of  Corinthe)  was  come  to  dwell  in  Athens,  and  remained 
with  iEgeus,  whom  she  had  promised  by  vertue  of  certaine 
medicines  to  make  him  to  get  children.  But  when  she  heard 
tell  that  Theseus  was  comen,  before  that  the  good  king 
iEgeus  (who  was  nowe  becomen  olde,  suspitious,  and  affrayed 
of  sedition,  by  reason  of  the  great  factions  within  the  cittie 
at  that  time)  knewe  what  he  was,  she  perswaded  him  to  Medea  per- 
poyson  him  at  a  feaste  which  they  woulde  make  him  as  a  swaded^Egeus 
straunger  that  passed  by.  Theseus  failed  not  to  goe  to  this  ji^^^^T^ 
prepared  feaste  whereunto  he  was  bydden,  but  yet  thought 
it  not  good  to  disclose  him  selfe.  And  the  rather  to  geve 
JEgeus  occasion  and  meane  to  knowe  him  :  when  they  brought 
the  meate  to  the  borde,  he  drewe  out  his  sworde,  as  though 
he  woulde  have  cut  with  all,  and  shewed  it  unto  him.  ^geus  ^Egeus  ac- 
seeing  it,  knewe  it  straight,  and  forthwith  overthrewe  the  knowledgeth 
cuppe  with  poyson  which  was  prepared  for  him  :  and  after  v/gfnnp  ^^ 
he  had  inquired  of  him,  and  asked  thinges,  he  embraced  him 
as  his  Sonne.  Afterwardes  in  the  common  assembly  of  the 
inhabitants  of  the  cittie,  he  declared,  howe  he  avowed  him  for 
his  Sonne.  Then  all  the  people  receyved  him  with  exceeding 
joye,  for  the  ^eno^vne  of  his  valiantnes  and  manhoode.  And 
some  saye,  that  when  JEgeus  overthrewe  the  cuppe,  the  poyson 
which  was  in  it,  fell  in  that  place,  where  there  is  at  this  pre- 
sent a  certen  compasse  inclosed  all  about  within  the  temple, 
which  is  called  Delphinium.  For  even  there  in  that  place,  in 
the  olde  time,  stoode  the  house  of  vEgeus :  in  witnes  whereof, 
they  call  yet  at  this  present  time  the  image  of  Mercurye 
(which  is  on  the  side  of  the  temple  looking  towardes  the  rising 
of  the  sunne)  the  Mercurye  gate  of  iEgeus.  But  the  Pallan- 
tides,  which  before  stoode  allwayes  in  hope  to  recover  the 
realme  of  Athens,  at  the  least  after  ^Egeus  death,  bicause  he 
had  no  children  :  when  they  sawe  that  Theseus  was  knowen, 
and  openly  declared  for  his  sonne  and  heir,  and  successour  to 
the  Realme,  they  were  not  able  any  lenger  to  beare  it,  seeing 

39 


THESEUS 


The  Pallan- 
tides  take 
armes  against 
^geus  aud 
Theseus. 

Leos  an  Her- 
auld  bewray- 
eth  their 
treason  to 
Theseus. 

Theseus 
killeth  the 
Pallantides. 


The  bull  of 
Marathon 
taken  alive  by 
Theseus. 

Apollo 
Delphias. 


lupiter 
Hecalian. 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

that  not  onely  iEgeus  (who  was  but  the  adopted  sonne  of 
Pandion,  and  nothing  at  all  of  the  bloude  royall  of  the 
Erictheides)  had  usurped  the  Kingdome  over  them,  but  that 
Theseus  also  should  enjoye  it  after  his  death.  Whereupon 
they  determined  to  make  warre  with  them  both,  and  dividing 
them  selves  into  two  partes,  the  one  came  openly  in  armes 
with  their  father,  marching  directly  towardes  the  cittie :  the 
other  laye  close  in  ambushe  in  the  village  Gargettus,  meaning 
to  geve  charge  upon  them  in  two  places  at  one  instant. 
Nowe  they  brought  with  them  an  Heraulde  borne  in  the 
towne  of  Agnus,  called  Leos,  who  bewrayed  unto  Theseus 
the  secret  and  devise  of  all  their  enterprise.  Theseus  upon 
this  intelligence  went  forth,  and  dyd  set  on  those  that  laye 
in  ambushe,  and  put  them  all  to  the  sworde.  The  other 
which  were  in  Pallas  companie  understanding  thereof,  dyd 
breake  and  disparse  them  selves  incontinently.  And  this  is 
the  cause  (as  some  saye)  why  those  of  Pallena  doe  never 
make  affinitie  nor  mariadge  with  those  of  Agnus  at  this 
daye.  And  that  in  their  towne  when  any  proclamation  is 
made,  they  never  speake  these  words  which  are  cryed  every 
where  els  through  out  the  whole  countrye  of  Attica,  Acouete 
Leos^  (which  is  as  muche  to  saye,  as  Hearken,  O  people)  they 
doe  so  extreamely  hate  this  worde  Leos,  for  that  it  was  the 
Herauldes  name  which  wrought  them  that  treason.  This 
done,  Theseus  who  woulde  not  live  idelly  at  home  and  doe 
nothing,  but  desirous  there  withall  to  gratifie  the  people, 
went  his  waye  to  fight  with  the  bull  of  Marathon,  the  which 
dyd  great  mischieves  to  the  inhabitants  of  the  countrye  of 
Tetrapolis.  And  having  taken  him  alive,  brought  him 
through  the  citie  of  Athens  to  be  scene  of  all  the  inhabitants. 
Afterwardes  he  dyd  sacrifice  him  unto  Apollo  Delphias. 
Nowe  concerning  Hecale,  who  was  reported  to  have  lodged 
him,  and  to  have  geven  him  good  enterteinment,  it  is  not 
altogether  untrue.  For  in  the  olde  time,  those  townes  and 
villages  thereaboutes  dyd  assemble  together,  and  made  a 
common  sacrifice  which  they  called  Hecalesion,  in  the  honour 
of  lupiter  Hecalian,  where  they  honoured  this  olde  woman, 
calling  her  by  a  diminutive  name,  Hecalena  :  bicause  that 
when  she  receyved  Theseus  into  her  house,  being  then  but 
40 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

very  younge,  she  made  muche  of  him,  and  called  him  by  THESEUS 

many  prety  made  names,  as  olde  folkes  are  wont  to  call 

younge  children.     And  forasmuche  as  she  had  made  a  vowe 

to  lupiter  to  make  him  a  solemne  sacrifice,  if  Theseus  returned 

safe  from  the  enterprise  he  went  about,  and  that  she  dyed 

before  his  returne  :  in  recompence  of  the  good  chere  she  had 

made  him,  she  had  that  honour  done  unto  her  by  Theseus 

commaundement,  as  Philochorus  bathe  written  of  it.    Shortely 

after  this  exployte,  there  came  certaine  of  King  Minos  am- 

bassadours  out  of  Creta,  to  aske  tribute,  being  nowe  the 

thirde  time  it  was  demaunded,  which  the  Athenians  payed  The  Athe- 

for  this  cause.     Androgens,  the  eldest  sonne  of  king  Minos,  nians  payed 

was  slayne  by  treason  within  the  countrye  of  Attica :   for  tribute  to 

which  cause  Minos  pursuing  the  revenge  of  his  death,  made  r^^^  for^he 

very  whotte  and  sharpe  warres  upon  the  Athenians,  and  dyd  death' of 

them  greate  hurte.     But  besides  all  this,  the  goddes  dyd  Audrogeus 

sharpely  punishe  and  scourge  all  the  countrye,  aswell  with  ^i^  sonne. 

barrennes  and  famine,  as  also  with  plague  and  other  mis- 

chieves,  even  to  the  drying  up  of  their  rivers.    The  Athenians 

perceyving  these  sore  troubles  and  plagues,  ranne  to  the 

oracle  of  Apollo,  who  aunswered  them  that  they  shoulde 

appease  Minos :   and  when  they  had  made  their  peace  with 

him,  that  then  the  wrathe  of  the  goddes  woulde  cease  against 

them,  and  their  troubles  should  have  an  ende.     Whereupon 

the  Athenians   sent  immediately   unto  him,  and  intreated 

him  for  peace  :  which  he  graunted  them,  with  condition  that  The  manner 

they  should  be  bounde  to  sende  him  yerely  into  Creta,  seven  of  the  tribute 

younge  boyes,  and  as  many  younge  gyrles.    Nowe  thus  farre,  conditioned. 

all  the  Historiographers  doe  very  well  agree  :  but  in  the  reste 

not.     And  they  which  seeme  furdest  of  from  the  trothe,  doe 

declare,  that  when  these  yonge  boyes  were  delivered  in  Creta, 

they  caused  them  to  be  devowred  by  the  Minotaure  within 

the  Laberinthe  :    or  els  that   they  were  shut  within  this 

Laberinthe,  wandring  up  and   dowTie,  and  coulde  finde  no  The  Mino- 

place  to  gett   out,   untill  suche  time    as    they   dyed,   even  taure  what  it 

famished  for  hunger.     And  this  Minotaure,  as  Euripides  the  ^*^' 

Poet  sayeth,  was 

A  corps  combynd,  which  monstrous  might  be  deemd  ; 
A  Boye^  a  Bull;  both  man  and  beast  it  seemd. 
F  41 


taines. 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

THESEUS       But  Philochorus  writeth,  that  the  Cretans  doe  not  con- 
The  Labe-        fesse  that,  but  saye  that  this   Laberinthe  was  a  gayle   or 
rmthe  a  pri-     prisone,  in  the  which  they  had  no  other  hurte,  saving  that 
re  a.    ||^gy  which  were  kept  there  under  locke  and  keye,  coulde 
not  flye  nor  starte  awaye :    and    that    Minos   had,  in  the 
memorye   of  his  sonne   Androgeus,    instituted    games   and 
playes  of  prise,  where  he  gave  unto  them  that  wanne  the 
victorie,  those  younge  children  of  Athens,  the  which  in  the 
meane  time  notwithstanding  were  carefully  kept  and  looked 
unto  in  the  prisone  of  the  Laberinthe  :  and  that  at  the  first 
games  that  were   kept,  one  of  the  Kings  captaines  called 
Taurus  one  of  Taurus,  who  was  in  best  creditt  with  his  master,  wanne  the 
Minoes  cap-     prise.     This  Taurus  was  a  churlishe,  and  naughtie  natured 
man  of  condition,  and  very  harde  and  cruell  to  these  children 
of  Athens.    And  to  verifie  the  same,  the  philosopher  Aris- 
totle  him   selfe,   speaking  of  the   common  wealth    of  the 
Of  the  Bot-      Bottieians,  declareth  very  well,  that  he  never  thought  that 
tieians.    Plin.  Minos  dyd  at  any  time  cause  the  children  of  Athens  to  be 
.  4.  cap.  2.    p^^  ^Q  death  :  but  sayeth,  that  they  poorely  toyled  in  Creta 
even  to  crooked  age,  earning  their  living  by  true  and  paine- 
fuU  service.     For  it  is  written,  that  the  Cretans  (to  satisfie 
an  olde  vowe  of  theirs  which  they  had  made  of  auncient 
time)  sent  somtimes  the  first  borne  of  their  children,  unto 
Apollo  in  the  cittie  of  Delphes :  and  that  amongest  them 
they    also    mingled    those,    which    were    descended    of   the 
auncient  prisoners  of  Athens,  and  they  went  with   them. 
But  bicause  they  coulde  not  live  there,  they  directed  their 
jorney  first  into  Italic,  where  for  a  time  they  remained  in 
the  realme  of  Puglia,  and  afterwardes  from  thence  went  into 
the  confines  of  Thracia,  where  they  had  this  name  of  Bot- 
tieians.   In  memory  whereof,  the  daughters  of  the  Bottieians 
in  a  solemne  sacrifice  they  make,  doe  use  to  singe  the  foote 
of  this  songe  :  Lett  us  to  Athens  goe.    But  thereby  we  maye 
see  howe  perilous  a  thing  it  is,  to  fall  in  displeasure  and 
enmitie  with   a  cittie,  which   can  speake  well,    and  where 
King  ^iJios     learning  and  eloquence  dothe  florishe.     For  ever  sence  that 
PoetTin  the  ^  ^^"^^5  Minos  was  allwayes  biased  and  disgraced  through  out 
theaters  at       ^^  the  Theaters  of  Athens.     The  testimonie  of  Hesiodus, 
Athens,  who  calleth    him  the  most   worthie    King,    dothe   nothing 

42 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

helpe  him  at  all,  nor  the  prayse  of  Homer,  who  nameth  him  THESEUS 

lupiters  famillier  friende :  bicause  the  tragicall  Poets  gott 

the   upper   hande   in    disgracing  liim,  notwithstanding   all 

these.     And  upon  their  stages  where  all  the  tragedies  were 

played,  they  still  gave  forth  many  ill  favored  wordes,  and 

fowle  speaches  of  him  :  as  against  a  man  that  had  bene  most 

cruell  and  unnaturall.     Yet  most  men  thincke,  that  Minos 

was  the  King  which  established  the  lawes  :  and  Radaman-  Radaman- 

thus  the  judge  and  preserver  of  them,  who  caused  the  same  thus. 

also  to  be  kept  and  observed.     The  time  nowe  being  comen 

about  for  payment  of  the  thirde  tribute,  when  they  came  to  The  thirde 

compell  the  fathers  which  had  children  not  yet  maried,  to  ^^'^V^/i^' 

geve  them  to  be  put  forth  to  take  their  chaunce  and  lotte  :  tribute 

the  citizens  of  Athens  beganne  to  murmure  against  ^geus, 

alledging  for  their  grieves,  that  he  who  onely  was  the  cause 

of  all  this  evill,  was  onely  alone  exempted  from  this  griefe. 

And  that  to  brins:  the  government  of  the  Realme,  to  fall 

•  Til 

into  the  handes  of  a  straunger  his  bastard  :  he  cared  not 

though   they    were   bereft   of    all   their   naturall   children,  The  Atheni- 

and  were  unnaturally  compelled  to  leave  and  forsake  them,  ^'^^/^^^^^^th 

These  just  sorrowes  and  complaintes  of  the  fathers,  whose  their  children, 

children  were  taken  from    them,  dyd  pearce  the  harte  of 

Theseus,  who  willing  to  yelde  to  reason,  and  to  ronne  the 

selfe  same  fortune  as  the  cittizens  dyd  :  willingly  offered  him  Theseus  offer- 

selfe  to  be  sent  thither,  without  regarde  taking  to  his  happe  ^,^-'^T''xif^\-i 

or  adventure.     For  which,  the  cittizens  greatly  esteemed  of  ^^^^  ^^^^ 

his  corage  and  honorable  disposition,  and  dearely  loved  him  Creta. 

for  the  good  affection,  he  seemed  to  beare  unto  the  comun- 

altye.     But   ^geus   having   used    many    reasons   and    per- 

swasions,  to  cause  him  to  turne,  and  staye  from  his  purpose, 

and  perceyving  in  the  ende  there  was  no  remedye  but  he 

woulde  goe :    he  then    drue  lottes  for  the   children  which  Lotts  drawen 

should  goe  with  him.     Hellanicus   notwithstanding   dothe  ^"'^  ^^^h^?^^" 

write,  that  they  were  not  those  of  the  cittie  which  drewe  ^^^^^^^  g^g^ 

lottes  for  the  children  they  should  sende,  but  that  Minos 

him  selfe  went  thither  in  persone  and  dyd  chuse  them,  as  he 

chose  Theseus   the   first,  upon   conditions   agreed  betwene 

them :  that  is  to  wit,  that  the  Athenians  shoulde  furnishe 

them  with  a  shippe,  and  that  the  children  should  shippe  and 


THESEUS 


The  Atheni- 
ans sent  their 
children  into 
Creta  in  a 
shippe  with 
a  blacks  sayle. 

vEgeus  geveth 
the  master  of 
the  shippe  a 
white  sayle,  to 
signifie  the 
safe  returne 
of  Theseus. 


Cybernesia 
games. 


Hiceteria 
oflFering. 

Theseus  tak- 
eth  shippe 
with  the  tri- 
bute children, 
the  sixt  of 
Marche,  and 
savleth  into 
Creta, 


LIVES    OF    THE    NOBLE 

imbarke  with  him,  carying  no  weapons  of  warre :  and  that 
after  the  death  of  the  Minotaure,  this  tribute  should  cease. 
Nowe  before  that  time,  there  was  never  any  hope  of  returne, 
nor  of  safetie  of  their  children  :  therefore  the  Athenians  all- 
wayes  sent  a  shippe  to  convey  their  children  with  a  blacke 
sayle,  in  token  of  assured  losse.  Nevertheles  Theseus  put- 
ting his  father  in  good  hope  of  him,  being  of  a  good  corage, 
and  promising  boldly  that  he  woulde  sett  upon  this  Mino- 
taure :  ^geus  gave  unto  the  master  of  the  shippe  a  white 
sayle,  commaunding  him  that  at  his  returne  he  should  put 
out  the  white  sayle  if  his  sonne  had  escaped,  if  not,  that  then 
he  should  sett  up  the  blacke  sayle,  to  shewe  him  a  farre  of 
his  unlucky  and  unfortunate  chaunce.  Simonides  notwith- 
standing doeth  saye,  that  this  sayle  which  ^geus  gave  to 
the  master,  was  not  white,  but  redde,  dyed  in  graine,  and  of 
the  culler  of  scarlett :  and  that  he  gave  it  him  to  signifie  a 
farre  of,  their  deliverie  and  safety.  This  master  was  called 
Phereclus  Amarsiadas,  as  Simonides  sayeth.  But  Philo- 
chorus  writeth,  that  Scirus  the  Salaminian  gave  to  Theseus 
a  master  called  Nausitheus,  and  another  marriner  to  tackle 
the  sayles,  who  was  called  Phseas  :  bicause  the  Athenians  at 
that  time  were  not  greatly  practised  to  the  sea.  And  this 
did  Scirus,  for  that  one  of  the  children  on  whom  the  lott 
fell  was  his  nephewe :  and  thus  muche  the  chappells  doe 
testifie,  which  Theseus  buylt  afterwardes  in  honoui*  of  Nausi- 
theus, and  of  Phaeas,  in  the  village  of  Phalerus,  joyning  to 
the  temple  of  Scirus.  And  it  is  sayed  moreover,  that  the 
feaste  which  they  call  Cybernesia,  that  is  to  saye,  the  feaste 
of  Patrons  of  the  shippes,  is  celebrated  in  honour  of  them. 
Nowe  after  the  lotts  were  drawen,  Theseus  taking  with  him 
the  children  allotted  for  the  tribute,  went  from  the  pallace 
to  the  temple  called  Delphinion,  to  offer  up  to  Apollo  for 
him  and  for  them,  an  offering  of  supplication  which  they  call 
Hiceteria :  which  was  an  olyve  boughe  hallowed,  wreathed 
about  with  white  wolle.  After  he  had  made  his  prayer,  he 
went  downe  to  the  sea  side  to  imbarke,  the  sixt  daye  of  the 
moneth  of  Marche  :  on  which  daye  at  this  present  time  they 
doe  sende  their  younge  girles  to  the  same  temple  of  Del- 
phinion, there  to  make  their  prayers  and  petitions  to  the 
44 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

goddes.     But  some  saye,  that  the  oracle  of  Apollo  in  the  THESEUS 

cittie  of  Delphes  had  aunswered  him,  that  he  should  take 
Venus  for  his  guyde,  and  that  he  should  call  upon  her  to 
conduct  him  in  his  voyage :  for  which  cause  he  dyd  sacrifice 
a  goate  unto  her  upon  the  sea  side,  which  was  founde  sodainly 
turned  into  a  ramme,  and  that  herefore  they  surnamed  this 
goddesse  Epitragia,  as  one  would  saye,  the  goddesse  of  the  Venus  Epi- 
ramme.     Furthermore,  after  he  was   arrived    in   Creta,  he  tragic, 
slewe  there  the  Minotaure  (as  the  most  parte  of  auncient  Theseus  slewe 
authors  doe  write)  by  the  meanes  and  helpe  of  Ariadne  :  who  the  Mino- 
beinff  fallen   in  fansie  with  him,  dyd  geve  him  a  clue  of  *^"^^  "V 
threede,  by  the  helpe  whereof  she  taught  him,  howe  he  might  Ariadne  kinff 
easely  winde  out  of  the  turnings  and  cranckes  of  the  Laby-  Minoes 
rinthe.     And  they  saye,  that  having  killed  this  Minotaure,  daughter, 
he  returned  backe  againe  the  same  Avaye  he  went,  bringing  Theseus  re- 
with  him  those  other  younge  children  of  Athens,  whom  with  turne  out  of 
Ariadne  also  he  caried  after wardes  awaye.    Pherecides  sayeth  '-^^^'•^* 
moreover,  that  he  brake  the  keeles  or  bottomes  of  all  the 
shippes  of  Creta,  bicause  they  should  not  sodainely  sett  out 
after  them.     And  Demon  writeth,  that  Taurus  (the  captaine  Taurus  over- 
of  Minos)  was  killed  in  a  fight  by  Theseus,  even  in  the  very  come  of  The- 
haven  mowthe  as  they  were  readye  to  shippe  awaye,  and  ^^"^'  ^^^^  ^ 
hoyse  up  sayle.    Yet  Philochorus  reporteth,  that  king  IVIinos 
having  sett  up  the  games,  as  he  was  wont  to  doe  yerely  in 
the  honour  and  memorye  of  his  sonne,  every  one  beganne  to 
envye  captaine  Taurus,  bicause  they  ever  looked  that  he 
should  carye  awaye  the  game  and  victorie,  as  he  had  done 
other  yeres  before  :  over  and  that,  his  authoritye  got  him 
much  ill  will  and  envye,  bicause  he  was  proude  and  stately, 
and  had  in  suspition  that  he  was  great  with  Queene  Pasi-  Taurus  sus- 
phae.    Wherefore  when  Theseus  required  he  might  encounter  pected  with 
with  Taurus,  Minos  easely  graunted  it.    And  being  a  solemne  P^^^P^^.^j 
custome  in  Creta  that  the  women  shoulde  be  present,  to  see  ^^j^g  ' 
these  open  sportes  and  sights,  Ariadne  being  at  these  games 
amongest  the  rest,  fell  further  in  love  with  Theseus,  seeing  How  Ariadne 
him  so  goodly  a  persone,  so  stronge,  and  invincible  in  wrest-  fell  in  love 
ling,  that  he  farre  exceeded   all   that  wrestled   there  that  ^^^^h  Theseus, 
daye.     King  Minos  was  so  glad  that  he  had  taken  awaye  the 
honour  from  captaine  Taurus,  that  he  sent  him  home  francke 

45 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

THESEUS  and  free  into  his  countrye,  rendring  to  him  all  the  other 
Minos  send-  prisoners  of  Athens :  and  for  his  sake,  clearely  released  and 
eth  Theseus     forgave  the  cittie  of  Athens  the  tribute,  which  they  should 

home  with  his  j^g^yg  payed  him  yerely.     Howbeit  Clidemus  searchins;  out 

prisoners  and  ^    .       .  ^         *^         ,  .1 

releaseth'the    ^^  beginning  of  these  things   to   thutmost,  reciteth  them 

Athenians  of    very  particularly,  and  after  another  sorte.     For  he  sayeth, 

their  tribute,    about  that  time  there  was  a  generall  restraint  through  out 

A  marine         all  Grece,  restrayning  all  manner  of  people  to  beare  sayle  in 

lawe.  Qj^y  vessell  or  bottome,  wherein  there  were  above  five  per- 

sones,  except  only  lason,  who  was  chosen  captaine  of  the 

great  shippe    Argus,  and   had   commission  to   sayle   every 

where,  to  chase  and  drive  awaye  rovers  and  pyrates,  and  to 

Daedalus  scoure  the  seas  through  out.     About  this  time,  Daedalus 

flight.  being  fled  from  Creta  to  Athens  in  a  litle  barke :    Minos 

contrarie  to  this  restraint,  woulde  needes  followe  him  with  a 

fleete  of  divers  vessels  with   owers,  who  being  by  force  of 

King  Minos     weather  driven  to  the  coaste  of  Sicile,  fortuned  to  dye  there, 

dyed  in  Sicile.  Afterwardes    his    sonne    Deucalion,    being    marvellously   of- 

Deucalion        fended  with  the  Athenians,  sent  to  summone  them  to  deliver 

king  Minoes     Dagdalus   unto   him,  or  els   he  woulde  put  the  children  to 

Sonne  sent  to   death,  which  were  delivered  to  his  father  for  hostages.     But 

^T  D-  ^    Theseus  excused  him  selfe,  and  sayed  he  coulde  not  forsake 

dalus.  Daedalus,  considering  he  was  his  neere  kynseman,  being  his 

cosin  germaine,  for  he  was  the  sonne  of  Merope,  the  daughter 

of  Erichtheus.     Howbeit  by  and  by  he  caused  many  vessels 

secretly  to  be  made,  parte  of  them  within  Attica  selfe  in  the 

village  of  Thymetades,  farre  from  any  highe  wayes :    and 

parte  of  them  in  the  cittie  of  Troezen,  by  the  sufferance  of 

Pitheus  his  grandfather,  to  the  ende  his  purpose  shoulde  be 

kept  the  secretly er.     Afterwardes  when  all  his  shippes  were 

readye,  and  rygged  out,  he  tooke  sea  before  the  Cretans  had 

any  knowledge  of  it :  in  so  much  as  when  they  sawe  them 

a  farre  of,  they  dyd  take  them  for  the  barkes  of  their  friends. 

Theseus  sayl-  Theseus  landed  without  resistaunce,  and  tooke  the  haven. 

ed  into  Creta,  Xhen  having  Daedalus,  and  other  banished  Cretans  for  guydes, 

th    ^t?r  of     ^^  entred  the  cittie  selfe  of  Gnosus,  where  he  slewe  Deucalion 

Gnosus  and     in  a  fight  before  the  gates  of  the  Labyrinthe,  with  all  his 

slewe  Deuca-    garde  and  officers  about  him.     By  this  meanes  the  kingdome 

lion-  of  Creta  fell  by  inheritance  into  the  handes  of  his  sister 

46 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

Ariadne.     Theseus  made  league  with  her,  and  caryed  away  THESEUS 
the  yong  children  of  Athens,  which  were  kept  as  hostages,  and 
concluded  peace  and  amytie  betweene  the  Athenians  and  the 
Cretans  :  who  promised,  and  sware,  they  woulde  never  make 
warres  against  them.    They  reporte  many  other  things  also 
touching  this  matter,  and  specially  of  Ariadne  :  but  there  is  Divers  opin- 
no  trothe  nor  certeintie  in  it.     For  some  saye,  that  Ariadne  ^^^^  of 
honge  her  selfe  for  sorowe,  when  she  sawe  that  Theseus  had  -^"^^"^• 
caste  her   of.     Other  write,  that  she  was   transported    by 
mariners  into  the  He  of  Naxos,  where  she  was  maryed  unto 
CEnarus,  the  priest  of  Bacchus  :  and  they  thincke  that  The- 
seus lefte  her,  bicause  he  was  in  love  with  another,  as  by 
these  verses  shoulde  appeare. 

^gles  the  Nyniphe,  was  loved  of  Theseus, 
which  was  the  daughter  of  Panopeus. 

Hereas  the  Megarian  sayeth,  that  these  two  verses  in  olde 
time  were  among  the  verses  of  the  Poet  Hesiodus,  howbeit 
Pisistratus  tooke  them  awaye  :  as  he  dyd  in  like  manner  adde 
these  other  here  in  the  description  of  the  helles  in  Homer,  to 
gratifie  the  Athenians. 

Bolde  Theseus^  and  Pirithous  stowte, 

descended  both,  from  godds  immortall  race. 
Triumphing  still,  this  wearie  worlde  aboute 

in  feats  of  armes,  and  many  a  comly  grace. 

Other  holde  opinion,  that  Ariadne  had  two  children  by 
Theseus  :  the  one  of  them  was  named  (Enopion,  and  the  (Enopion,  and 
other   Staphylus.      Thus   amongest    others    the    Poet    Ion  Staphylus 
writeth  it,  who  was  borne  in  the  He  of  Chio,  and  speaking  ^^^^s^us 
of  his  cittie,  he  sayeth  thus  : 


sonnes. 


CEnopiou  which  was  the  sonne,  of  worthy  Theseus 
did  cause  men  buylde,  this  stately  towne  which 
nowe  triumpheth  thus. 

Nowe  what  things  are  founde  seemely  in  Poets  fables, 
there  is  none  but  dothe  in  manner  synge  them.  But  one 
Paenon  borne  in  the  cittie  of  Amathunta,  reciteth  this  cleane 
after  another  sorte,  and  contrarie  to  all  other :  saying,  that 
Theseus  by  tempest  was    driven  with    the    He  of  Cyprus, 

47 


LIVES    OF    THE    NOBLE 


THESEUS 

Theseus  leav- 
eth  Ariadne 
in  Cyprus. 


Ariadne  dieth 
with  childe  in 
Cyprus. 


The  cere- 
monie  of  the 
sacrifice  done 
to  Ariadne  in 
Cyprus. 

Venus 
Ariadne. 

Two  Minoes 
and  two 
Ariadnees. 


Corcyna 
Ariadnes 


Theseus  re- 
turneth  out  of 
Creta  into  the 
lie  of  Delos. 


having  with  him  Ariadne,  which  was  great  with  childe,  and 
so  sore  sea  sycke,  that  she  was  not  able  to  abide  it.  In  so 
muche  as  he  was  forced  to  put  her  a  lande,  and  him  selfe 
afterwards  returning  abourde  hoping  to  save  his  shippe 
against  the  storme,  was  forthwith  compelled  to  loofe  into 
the  sea.  The  women  of  the  countrye  dyd  curteously  receyve 
and  intreate  Ariadne  :  and  to  comforte  her  againe,  (for  she 
was  marveilously  oute  of  harte,  to  see  she  was  thus  forsaken) 
they  counterfeated  letters,  as  if  Theseus  had  wrytten  them 
to  her.  And  when  her  groninge  time  was  come,  and  she  to 
be  layed,  they  did  their  best  by  all  possible  meanes  to  save 
her:  but  she  dyed  notwithstanding  in  labour,  and  could 
never  be  delivered.  So  she  was  honorably  buried  by  the 
Ladies  of  Cyprus.  Theseus  not  long  after  returned  thither 
againe,  who  tooke  her  death  marvelous  heavily,  and  left 
money  with  the  inhabitantes  of  the  countrie,  to  sacrifice 
unto  her  yearely  :  and  for  memorie  of  her,  he  caused  two  litle 
images  to  be  molten,  the  one  of  copper,  and  the  other  of 
silver,  which  he  dedicated  unto  her.  This  sacrifice  is  done 
the  seconde  day  of  September,  on  which  they  doe  yet  observe 
this  ceremonie :  they  doe  lay  a  young  childe  upon  a  bed, 
which  pitiefully  cryeth  and  lamenteth,  as  women  travellinge 
with  childe.  They  saye  also,  that  the  Amathusians  doe  yet 
call  the  grove  where  her  tombe  is  sette  up,  the  wodde  of 
Venus  Ariadne.  And  yet  there  are  of  the  Naxians,  that 
reporte  this  otherwise :  saying,  there  were  two  Minoes,  and 
two  Ariadnees,  whereof  the  one  was  maried  to  Bacchus 
in  the  lie  of  Naxos,  of  whome  Staphylus  was  borne  :  and  the 
other  the  youngest,  was  ravished  and  caried  away  by  The- 
seus, who  afterwardes  forsooke  her,  and  she  came  into  the  He 
of  Naxos  with  her  nurce,  called  Corcyna,  whose  grave  they 
doe  shewe  yet  to  this  day.  This  seconde  Ariadne  dyed 
there  also,  but  she  had  no  such  honour  done  to  her  after  her 
death,  as  to  the  first  was  geven.  For  they  celebrate  the 
feaste  of  the  first  with  all  joye  and  mirthe  :  where  the 
sacrifices  done  in  memorie  of  the  seconde,  be  mingled  with 
mourninge  and  sorowe.  Theseus  then  departing  from  the 
He  of  Creta,  arrived  in  the  He  of  Delos,  where  he  did  sacri- 
fice in  the  temple  of  Apollo,  and  gave  there  a  litle  image  of 
48 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

Venus,  the  which  he  had   gotten    of  Ariadne.     Then  with  THESEUS 
the  other  young  boyes  that  he  had  delivered,  he  daunced  a 
kinde  of  daunce,  which  the  Dehans  keepe  to  this  day,  as 
they  say :   in  which  there  are  many  turnes  and  returnes, 
much  after   the   turninges  of  the    Labyrinthe.      And    the 
Delians  call  this  manner  of  daunce,  the  crane,  as  Dicoearcus  Theseus 
sayeth.      And    Theseus  daunced    it   first  about   the   altar,  daunce  called 
which  is  called  Ceraton,  that  is  to  saye,  hornestaffe :  bicause  t^^  Crane, 
it  is  made  and  builded  of  homes  onely,  all  on  the  left  hande 
well  and  curiously  sette  together  without  any  other  bindinge. 
It  is  sayed  also  that  he  made  a  game  in  this  He  of  Delos, 
in  which  at  the  first  was  geven  to  him  that  overcame,  a 
braunche  of  palme  for  reward  of  victorie.     But  when  they  Palme  a  token 
drewe  neere  the  coast  of  Attica,  they  were  so  j  oy full,  he  and  ^^  victory, 
his  master,  that  they  forgate  to  set  up  their  white  sayle,  by  Theseus  mas- 
which  they  shoulde  have  geven  knowledge  of  their  healthe  ter  of  his 
and  safetie  to  iEgeus.     Who  seeinge  the  blacke  savle  a  farre  ^"^PP^  formate 

t%         »  •  .  to  spt  out  tnP 

of,  being  out  of  all  hope  evermore  to  see  his  sonne  againe,  ^-i^j^g  savle 
tooke  such  a  griefe  at  his  harte,  that  he  threw  him  selfe 
headlong  from  the  top  of  a  clyff'e,  and  killed  him  selfe.     So  ^geus  death, 
soone  as  Theseus  was  arrived  at  the  porte  named  Phalerus,  Theseus  arriv- 
he  performed  the  sacrifices  which  he  had  vowed  to  the  goddes  eth  safe  with 
at  his  departure :  and  sent  an  Herauld  of  his  before  unto  the  tribute 
the  city,  to  carie  newes  of  his  safe  arrivall.     The  Heraulde  ^.j^g  haven  of 
founde  many  of  the  citie  mourning  the  death  of  king  JEgeus.  Phalerus. 
Many  other  received  him  with  great  joy,  as  may  be  supposed. 
They  would   have   crowned    him   also  with    a  garlande  of 
flowers,  for  that  he  had  brought  so  good  tidinges,  that  the 
children  of  the  citie  were  returned  in  safetie.     The  Heraulde 
was  content  to  take  the  garlande,  yet  would  he  not  in  any 
wise  put  it  on  his  head,  but  did  winde  it  about  his  Heraulds 
rodde  he  bare  in  his  hande,  and  so  returneth  foorthwith  to  The  Herauld 
the  sea,  where  Theseus  made  his  sacrifices.     Who  perceiv-  bare  a  rodde 
inge  they  were  not  yet  done,  did  refuse  to  enter  into  the  ^^  "^^  hand, 
temple,  and  stayed  without  for  troubling  of  the  sacrifices. 
After wardes  all  ceremonies  finished,  he  went  in  and  tolde  him 
the  newes  of  his  fathers  death.     Then  he  and  his  company 
mourning  for  sorowe,  hasted  with  speede  towardes  the  citie. 
And  this  is  the  cause,  why  to  this  day,  at  the  feast  called 
G  49 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 


THESEUS 
The  feast 
Oscophoria. 


October 
called  Pya- 
nepsion,  in 
the  Atticau 
tongue. 


Herod,  of  Ire- 
sione  in  the 
life  of  Homer, 
and  Suidas. 


Theseus  went 
into  Creta 
with  the  tri- 
bute children, 
in  the  galliot 
of  30.  owers. 

Disputation 
about  in- 
crease. 


Oscophoria  (as  who  woulde  say  at  the  feast  of  boughes) 
the  Herauld  hath  not  his  heade  but  his  rod  onely  crowned 
with  flowers,  and  why  the  assistantes  also  after  the  sacrifice 
done,  doe  make  suche  cryes  and  exclamations  :  Ele,  leuf^  iou, 
iou :  whereof  the  first  is  the  crye  and  voyce  they  commonly 
use  one  to  an  other  to  make  haste,  or  else  it  is  the  foote  of 
some  songe  of  triumphe  :  and  the  other  is  the  crye  and  voyce 
of  men  as  it  were  in  feare  and  trouble.  After  he  had  ended 
the  obsequies  and  funeralls  for  his  father,  he  performed  also 
his  sacrifices  unto  Apollo,  which  he  had  vowed  the  seventh 
day  of  the  moneth  of  October,  on  which  they  arrived  at  their 
returne  into  the  citie  of  Athens.  Even  so  the  custome  which 
they  use  at  this  day,  to  seeth  all  manner  of  pulse,  commeth 
of  this :  that  those  which  then  returned  with  Theseus,  did 
seeth  in  a  great  brasse  potte  all  the  remaine  of  their  pro- 
vision, and  therewith  made  good  chere  together.  Even  in 
such  sorte  as  this,  came  up  the  custome  to  carie  a  braunch  of 
olyve,  wreathed  about  with  wolle,  which  they  call  Iresione  : 
bicause  at  that  time  they  caried  boughes  of  supplication,  as 
we  have  told  ye  before.  About  which  they  hang  all  sortes 
of  fruites  :  for  then  barrennesse  did  cease,  as  the  verses  they 
sang  afterwards  did  witnesse. 

Bring  him  good  bread,  that  is  of  savry  tast, 

with  pleasaunt  figges,  and  droppes  of  dulcet  mell. 

Then  sowple  oyle,  his  body  for  to  bast, 

and  pure  good  wine,  to  make  him  sleepe  full  well. 

Howbeit  there  are  some  which  will  say,  that  these  verses 
were  made  for  the  Heraclides,  that  is  to  say,  those  that 
descended  from  Hercules  :  which  flying  for  their  safety  and 
succour  unto  the  Athenians,  were  entertained  and  much 
made  of  by  them  for  a  time.  But  the  most  parte  holde 
opinion,  they  were  made  upon  the  occasion  aforesaid.  The 
vessell  in  which  Theseus  went  and  returned,  was  a  galliot  of 
thirtie  owers,  which  the  Athenians  kept  untill  the  time  of 
Demetrius  the  Phalerian,  alwayes  taking  away  the  olde 
peeces  of  wodde  that  were  rotten,  and  ever  renewing  them 
with  new  in  their  places.  So  that  ever  since,  in  the  disputa- 
tions of  the  Philosophers,  touching  things  that  increase,  to 

50 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

wit,  whether  they  remaine  alwayes  one,  or  else  they  be  made  THESEUS 
others  :  this  galliot  was  alwayes  brought  in  for  an  example  The  galliot 
of  doubt.  For  some  mainteined,  that  it  was  still  one  vessell :  alleaged  for  a 
others  to  the  contrarie  defended  it  was  not  so.  And  they  ^10""^. 
holde  opinion  also,  that  the  feast  of  boughes  which  is  cele- 
brated at  Athens  at  this  time,  was  then  first  of  all  instituted 
by  Theseus.  It  is  sayed  moreover,  that  he  did  not  carye  all 
the  wenches  upon  whome  the  lotts  did  fall,  but  chose  two 
fayer  young  boyes,  whose  faces  were  swete  and  delicate  as 
maydens  be,  that  otherwise  were  hardie,  and  quicke  sprighted. 
But  he  made  them  so  oft  bathe  them  selves  in  whotte  bathes, 
and  kepe  them  in  from  the  heate  of  the  sunne,  and  so  many 
times  to  washe,  anointe,  and  rubbe  them  selves  with  oyles 
which  serve  to  supple  and  smoothe  their  skinnes,  to  keepe 
freshe  and  fayer  their  colour,  to  make  yellowe  and  bright 
their  heares :  and  withall  did  teache  them  so  to  counterfeate 
their  speache,  countenaunce  and  facion  of  young  maydes, 
that  they  seemed  to  be  like  them,  rather  then  young  boyes. 
For  there  was  no  manner  of  difference  to  be  perceived  out- 
wardly, and  he  mingled  them  with  the  girles,  without  the 
knowledge  of  any  man.  Afterwards  when  he  was  returned, 
he  made  a  procession,  in  which  both  he  and  the  other  young 
boyes,  were  apparelled  then  as  they  be  nowe,  which  carie 
boughes  on  the  day  of  the  feast  in  their  handes.  They  carie 
them  in  the  honor  of  Bacchus  and  Ariadne,  following  the 
fable  that  is  tolde  of  them  :  or  rather  bicause  they  returned 
home  just,  at  the  time  and  season,  when  they  gather  the 
fruite  of  those  trees.  There  are  women  which  they  call 
Deipnophores,  that  is  to  say,  supper  caryers,  which  are  assis- 
tantes  to  the  sacrifice  done  that  day,  in  representing  the 
mothers  of  those,  upon  whom  the  lottes  did  fall,  bicause 
they  in  like  sorte  brought  them  both  meate  and  drinke. 
There  they  tell  tales,  for  so  did  their  mothers  tattle  to  their 
children,  to  comforte  and  encorage  them.  All  these  parti- 
cularities were  written  by  Demon  the  historiographer.  There 
was  moreover  a  place  chosen  out  to  build  him  a  temple  in, 
and  he  him  selfe  ordained,  that  those  houses  which  had 
payed  tribute  before  unto  the  king  of  Creta,  should  nowe 
yearely   thenceforth    become    contributories    towardes    the 

51 


m 


THESEUS 

Theseus 
thankefullnes 
to  the  Phyta- 
lides  who  were 
the  first  that 
feasted  him  in 
their  houses. 

Theseus 
brought  the 
inhabitants  of 
the  contrie 
of  Attica  into 
one  city. 


Asty,  the 
towne  house 
of  the  Athe- 


The  feastes 
Panathenaea, 
and  Metoecia. 


LIVES    OF  THE   NOBLE 

charges  of  a  solemne  sacrifice,  which  shoulde  be  done  in  the 
honor  of  him  :  and  he  did  assigne  the  order  and  administra- 
tion of  the  same,  unto  the  house  of  the  Phytalides,  in  recom- 
pence  of  the  curtesie  which  they  showed  him  when  he  arrived. 
Furthermore,  after  the  death  of  his  father  ^Egeus,  he  under- 
tooke  a  marvelous  great  enterprise.  For  he  brought  all  the 
inhabitantes  of  the  whole  province  of  Attica,  to  be  within 
the  citie  of  Athens,  and  made  them  all  one  corporation, 
which  were  before  dispersed  into  diverse  villages,  and  by 
reason  thereof  were  very  hard  to  be  assembled  together,  when 
occasion  was  offered  to  establish  any  order  concerning  the 
common  state.  Many  times  also  they  were  at  variance  to- 
gether, and  by  the  eares,  making  warres  one  upon  an  other. 
But  Theseus  tooke  the  paines  to  goe  from  village  to  village, 
and  from  family,  to  familie,  to  let  them  understand  the 
reasons  why  they  should  consent  unto  it.  So  he  found  the 
poore  people  and  private  men,  ready  to  obey  and  foUowe  his 
will :  but  the  riche,  and  such  as  had  authoritye  in  every 
village,  all  against  it.  Nevertheles  he  wanne  them,  promis- 
ing that  it  should  be  a  common  wealth,  and  not  subject  to 
the  power  of  any  sole  prince,  but  rather  a  populer  state.  In 
which  he  woulde  only  reserve  to  him  selfe  the  charge  of  the 
warres,  and  the  preservation  of  the  lawes :  for  the  rest,  he 
was  content  that  every  citizen  in  all  and  for  all  should  beare 
a  like  swaye  and  authoritye.  So  there  were  some  that  will- 
ingly graunted  thereto.  Other  who  had  no  liking  thereof, 
velded  notwithstanding  for  feare  of  his  displeasure  and  power 
which  then  was  very  great.  So  they  thought  it  better  to 
consent  with  good  will,  unto  that  he  required  :  then  to  tary 
his  forcible  compulsion.  Then  he  caused  all  the  places 
where  justice  was  ministred,  and  all  their  halles  of  assembly 
to  be  overthrowen  and  pulled  downe.  He  removed  straight 
all  j  udges  and  officers,  and  built  a  towne  house,  and  a  coun- 
saill  hall,  in  the  place  where  the  cittie  now  standeth,  which 
the  Athenians  call  Asty,  but  he  called  the  whole  corporation 
of  them,  Athens.  Afterwardes  he  instituted  the  greate  feast 
and  common  sacrifice  for  all  of  the  countrye  of  Attica,  which 
they  call  Panathenaea.  Then  he  ordeined  another  feaste  also 
upon  the  sixtenth  daye  of  the  raoneth  of  June,  for  all  strangers 
52 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

which  should  come  to  dwell  in  Athens,  which  is  called  Metoe-  THESEUS 
cia  and  is  kept  even  to  this  daye.     That  done,  he  gave  over 
his  regall  power  according  to  his  promise,  and  beganne  to  sett  Theseus  re- 
up  an  estate  or  policye  of  a  common  wealth,  beginning  first  f'F"^*^  ^'^ 
with  the  service  of  the  goddes.     To  knowe  the  good  successe    '",^  "'"ke'th 
of  his  enterprise,  he  sent  at  the  very  beginning  to  the  oracle  Athens  a  com- 
of  Apollo  in  Delphes,  to  enquire  of  the  fortune  of  this  cittye :  mon  wealth. 
from  whence  this  aunswer  was  brought  unto  him  : 

O  thou  which  arte^  the  sonue  of  iEgeus,  ^^^  oracle  or 

begott  by  him,  on  Pitheus  daughter  deare.  Apollo  at 

The  mightie  love,  my  father  glorious,  Delphes. 

by  his  decree,  hath  sayed  there  shall  appeare, 

a  fatall  ende,  of  every  cittie  here. 
^V^hich  ende  he  will,  shall  also  come  adowne, 

within  the  walles,  of  this  thy  stately  towne. 

Therefore  shewe  thou,  a  valliant  constant  minde, 

and  let  no  care,  nor  carke  thy  harte  displease. 
For  like  unto  a  bladder  blowen  with  winde 

thou  shalt  be  tost,  upon  the  surging  seas. 

Yet  lett  no  dynte,  of  dolours  the  disease. 
For  why.-*  thou  shalt,  nor  perishe  nor  decaye, 

nor  be  orecome,  nor  yet  be  cast  awaye. 

It  is  founde  written  also  that  Sibylla  afterwardes  gave  out 
such  a  like  oracle  over  the  cittye  of  Athens. 

The  bladder  blowen  maye  flete  upon  the  fludde, 
but  cannot  synke,  nor  sticke  in  filthie  mudde. 

Moreover,    bicause   he  woulde  further  yet   augment   his 
people,   and  enlarge  his  cittie,  he   entised    many  to   come 
and  dwell  there,  by  offering  them  the  selfe  same  freedome 
and  priviledges,  which  the  naturall  borne  citizens  had.     So 
that  many  judge,  that  these  wordes  which  are  in  use  at  this 
daye  in  Athens,  when  any  open  proclamation  is  made,  All 
people.  Come  ye  hither  :  be  the  selfe  same  which  Theseus  then 
caused  to  be  proclaymed,  when  he  in  that  sorte  dyd  gather  Theseus  mak- 
a  people  together  of  all  nations.    Yet  for  all  that,  he  suffered  ^f  /f  fa^nd^ 
not  the  great  multitude  that  came  thither  tagge  and  ragge,  degreerin"his 
to  be  without  distinction  of  degrees  and  orders.    For  he  first  common 
divided  the  noble  men,   from    husbandmen   and   artificers,  weale. 

53 


LIVES    OF   THE   NOBLE 

THESEUS  appointing  the  noblemen  as  judges  and  magistrates  to  judge 

upon  matters  of  Religion,  and  touching  the  service  of  the 

godds  :  and  of  them  also  he  dyd  chuse  rulers,  to  beare  civill 

office  in  the  common  weale,  to  determine  the  lawe,  and  to 

tell  all  holy  and  divine  things.     By  this  meanes  he  made  the 

noble  men  and  the  two  other  estates  equall  in  voyce.     And 

as  the  noblemen  dyd  passe  the  other  in  honour  :  even  so  the 

artificers  exceeded  them  in  number,  and  the  husbandmen 

them  in  profit.     Nowe  that  Theseus  was  the  first  who  of  all 

Theseus  the      others  yelded  to  have  a  common  weale  or  populer  estate  (as 

first  that  gave  Aristotle  sayeth)  and  dyd  geve  over  his  regall  power  :  Homer 

over  regall       ggjf  semeth  to  testifie  it,  in  numbring  the  shippes  which  were 

framed  rSopu-  ^"   ^^^   Grsecians   armie  before  the  cittie  of  Troia.      For 

ler  state.  amongest  all  the  Graecians,  he  only  calleth  the  Athenians 

people.     Moreover  Theseus  coyned  money,  which  he  marked 

An  oxe  stamp-  with  the  stampe  of  an  oxe,  in  memorye  of  the  buUe  of  Mara- 

ed  in  Theseus  thon,  or  of  Taurus  the  captaine  of  Minos,  or  els  to  provoke 

coyne.  j^jg  citizens  to  geve  them  selves  to  labour.     They  saye  also 

Hecatom-         that  of  this  money  they  were  since  called  Hecatomboeon, 

boeon,  Deca-    and  Decabceon,  which  signifieth  worth  a  hundred  oxen,  and 

boeon.  worth    tenne   oxen.      Furthermore   having   joined    all   the 

territorie  of  the  cittie  of  Megara,  unto  the  countrie  of  Attica, 

he  caused  that  notable  foure  square  piller  to  be   sett  up 

for  their  confines  within  the  straight  of  Peloponnesus,  and 

engraved  thereuppon  this  superscription,  that  declareth  the 

separation  of  both  the  countries  which  confine  there  together. 

The  superscription  is  this. 

Where  Titan  doth  beginne,  his  beames  for  to  displaye 
even  that  waye  stands  lonia^  in  fertile  wise  allwaye  : 

And  where  againe  he  goeth^  a  downe  to  take  his  rest, 
there  stands  Peloponnesus  lande,  for  there  I  compt  it  west. 

It  was  he  also  which  made  the  games  called  Isthmia,  after 
Olympia.  the  imitation  of  Hercules,  to  the  ende  that  as  the  Grecians 
dyd  celebrate  the  feast  of  games  called  Olympia,  in  the 
Theseus  erect-  honour  of  lupiter,  by  Hercules  ordinance  :  so,  that  they 
Isthmia  in  the  should  also  celebrate  the  games  called  Isthmia,  lay  his  order 
honour  of  and  institution,  in  the  honour  of  Neptune.  For  those  that 
Neptune.  were  done  in  the  straights  in  the  honour  of  Melicerta,  were 
54 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

done  in  the  night,  and  had  rather  forme  of  sacrifice  or  of  a  THESEUS 
mvsterie,  then  of  games  and  open  feast.     Yet  some  will  save, 
that  these  games  of  Isthmia  were  instituted  in  the  honour 
and  memorie  of  Sciron,  and  that  Theseus  ordained  them  in 
satisfaction  of  his  death  :  bicause  he  was  his  cosin  germaine, 
being  the  sonne  of  Canethus,  and  of  Heniocha  the  daughter 
of  Pitheus.     Other  save  that  it  was  Sinnis  and  not  Sciron, 
and  that  for  him  Theseus  made  these  games,  and  not  for  the 
memorie  of  the  other.    Howsoever  it  was,  he  speciallv  willed 
the  Corinthians,  that  they  should  geve  unto  those  that  came 
from  Athens  to  see  their  games  of  Isthmia,  so  much  place  to 
sit  downe  before  them  (in  the  most  honorable  parte  of  the 
feast  place)  as  the  saile  of  their  shippe  should  cover,  in  the 
which  they  came  from  Athens  :    thus   doe   Hellanicus  and 
Andron  Halicamasseus  write  hereof.     Touching  the  vovage 
he  made  by  the   sea    Major,  Philochorus,  and  some  other  Theseus  jor- 
holde  opinion,  that  he  went  thither  with  Hercules  against  ^y^_  ^^^o  mare 
the  Amazones  :  and  that  to  honour  his  valiantnes,  Hercules  -*^^Jor- 
gave  him  Antiopa  the  Amazone.     But  the  more  parte  of 
the  other  Historiographers,  namely  Hellanicus,  Pherecides, 
and  Herodotus,  doe  write,  that  Theseus  went  thither  alone, 
after  Hercules   voyage,  and  that   he  tooke   this    Amazone  Antiopa  the 
prisoner,  which  is  likeliest  to  be  true.     For  we  doe  not  finde  Amazone 
that  any  other  who  went  this  jomey  with  him,  had  taken  ^t^^*  ^,    ^ 
any  Amazone  prisoner  besides  him    selfe.      Bion  also  the 
Historiographer,  this  notwithstanding  sayeth,  that  he  brought 
her  away  by  deceit  and  stealth.     For  the  Amazones  (saveth 
he)  naturally  loving  men,  dyd  not  flie  at  all  when  thev  sawe 
them  lande  in  their  countrye,  but  sente  them  presents,  and 
that  Theseus   entised    her  to    come    into   his    shippe,   who 
brought  him  a  present :  and  so  sone  as  she  was  aborde,  he 
hoysed  his  sayle,  and  so  caried  her  awav.    Another  Historio- 
grapher Menecrates,  who  wrote  the  historic  of  the  cittie  of 
Nicea,  in  the  countrye  of  B}i:hinia,  saveth  :  that  Theseus 
having  this  Amazone  Antiopa  with  him,  remained  a  certaine 
time  upon  those  coasts,  and  amongest  other  he  had  in  his 
companie  three  younger  brethem  of  Athens,  Euneus,  Thoas,  Solois  fell  in 
and  Solois.     This  last,  Solois,  was  marveilouslv  in  love  'with  love  with 
Antiopa,  and  never  be\\Tayed  it  to  any  of  his  other  com-  -■^tiopa. 

55 


Solois  drown- 
ed him  selfe 
for  love. 


Pythopolis 
built  by 
Theseus, 

Solois  fl. 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

THESEUS  panions,  saving  unto  one  with  whom  he  was  most  familiar, 
and  whom  he  trusted  best :  so  that  he  reported  this  matter 
unto  Antiopa.  But  she  utterly  rejected  his  sute,  though 
otherwise  she  handled  it  wisely  and  curteously,  and  dyd  not 
complaine  to  Theseus  of  him.  Howbeit  the  younge  man 
despairing  to  enjoy e  his  love,  tooke  it  so  inwardly,  that 
desperately  he  lept  into  the  river,  and  drowned  him  selfe. 
Which  when  Theseus  understoode,  and  the  cause  also  that 
brought  him  to  this  desperation  and  ende  :  he  was  very 
sorye,  and  angrie  also.  Whereupon  he  remembred  a  cer- 
teine  oracle  of  Pythia,  by  whom  he  was  commaunded  to 
buyld  a  cittie  in  that  place  in  a  straunge  countrye,  where 
he  should  be  most  sorye,  and  that  he  should  leave  some  that 
were  about  him  at  that  time,  to  governe  the  same.  For  this 
cause  therefore  he  built  a  cittie  in  that  place,  which  he 
named  Pythopolis,  bicause  he  liad  built  it  only  by  the  com- 
maundement  of  the  Nunne  Pythia.  He  called  the  river  in 
the  which  the  younge  man  was  drowned,  Solois,  in  memorye 
of  him  :  and  left  his  two  brethern  for  his  deputies  and  as 
governours  of  this  newe  cittie,  with  another  gentleman  of 
Athens,  called  Hermus.  Hereof  it  commeth,  that  at  this 
daye  the  Pythopolitans  call  a  certen  place  of  their  cittie, 
Hermus  house.  But  they  fayle  in  the  accent,  by  putting  it 
upon  the  last  syllable  :  for  in  pronouncing  it  so,  Hermu 
signifieth  Mercuric.  By  this  meanes  they  doe  transferre 
the  honour  due  to  the  memorie  of  Hermus,  unto  the  god 
Mercuric.  Now  heare  what  was  the  occasion  of  the  warres  of 
the  Amazones,  which  me  thinckes  was  not  a  matter  of  small 
moment,  nor  an  enterprise  of  a  woman.  For  they  had  not 
placed  their  campe  within  the  very  cittie  of  Athens,  nor  had 
not  fought  in  tlie  very  place  it  selfe  (called  Pnyce)  adjoyning 
to  the  temple  of  the  Muses,  if  they  had  not  first  conquered 
or  subdued  all  the  countrye  thereabouts  :  neither  had  they 
all  comen  at  the  first,  so  valiantly  to  assaile  the  cittie  of 
Athens.  Now,  whether  they  came  by  lande  from  so  farre  a 
countrye,  or  that  they  passed  over  an  arme  of  the  sea,  which 
is  called  Bosphorus  Cimmericus,  being  frosen  as  Hellanicus 
sayeth  :  it  is  hardely  to  be  credited.  But  that  they  camped 
within  the  precinct  of  the  very  cittie  it  selfe,  the  names  of 
56 


The  cause  of 
the  warres  of 
the  Amazones 
against  the 
Athenians. 


Bosphorus 
Cimmericus, 
an  arme  of 
the  sea. 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

the  places  which    contmewe  yet  to  this  present  daye  doe  THESEUS 
witnesse  it,  and  the  graves  also  of  the  women  which  dyed 
there.     But  so  it  is,  that  both  armies  laye  a  great  time  one 
in  the  face  of  the  other,  ere  they  came  to  battell.     Howbeit 
at  the  length  Theseus  having  first  made  sacrifice  unto  Feare 
the  goddesse,  according  to  the  counsaill  of  a  prophecie  he  Theseus  fight- 
had  receyved,  he  gave  them  battell  in  the  moneth  of  August,  ^^^  ^  battell 
on  the  same  daye,  in  the  which  the  Athenians  doe  even  at  ^'j^^^^  \. 
this  present  solemnise  the  feast,  which  they  call  Boedromia. 
But  Clidemus  the  Historiographer,  desirous  particularly  to 
write  all  the  circumstances  of  this  encownter,  sayeth  that  the 
left  poynte  of  their  battell  bent  towards  the  place  which  The  order  of 
they  call  Amazonion  :  and  that  the  right  poynte  marched  by  the  Amazones 
the  side  of  Chrysa,  even  to  the  place  which  is  called  Pnyce,  battell. 
upon  which,  the  Athenians  comming  towards  the  temple  of  the 
Muses,  did  first  geve  their  charge.     And  for  proofe  that  this 
is  true,  the  graves  of  the  women  which  dyed  in  this  first 
encounter,  are  founde  yet  in  the  great  streete,  which  goeth 
towards  the  gate  Piraica,  neere  unto  the  chappell  of  the  litlc 
god  Chalcodus.    And  the  Athenians  (sayeth  he)  were  in  this 
place  repulsed  by  the  Amazones,  even  to  the  place  where  the 
images  of  Eumenides  are,  that  is  to  saye,  of  the  furies.     But 
on  thother  side  also,  the  Athenians  comming  towards  the 
quarters  of  Palladium,  Ardettus,  and  Lucium,  drave  backe 
their  right  poynte  even  to  within  their  campe,  and  slewe  a 
great  number  of  them.     Afterwards,  at  the  ende  of  foure 
moneths,  peace  was  taken  betwene  them  by  meanes  of  one  Peace  con- 
of  the  women  called  Hyppolita.     For  this  Historiographer  eluded  at 
calleth  the  Amazone  which  Theseus  maried,  Hyppolita,  and  endTJlJ'"^ 
not  Antiopa.     Nevertheles,  some  saye  that  she  was  slayne  meanes  of 
(fighting  on  Theseus  side)  with  a  darte,  by  another  called  Hypolita. 
Molpadia.     In  memorie  whereof,  the  piller  which  is  joyning 
to  the  temple  of  the  Olympian  ground,  was  set  up  in  her 
honour.     We  are  not  to  marvell,  if  the  historie  of  things  so 
auncient,  be  founde  so  diversely  written.     For  there  are  also 
that  write,  that  Queene  Antiopa  sent  those  secretly  which 
were  hurte  then  into  the  cittie  of  Calcide,  where  some  of 
them  recovered,  and  were   healed :   and  others   also  dyed, 
which  were  buried   neere   to  the  place  called  Amazonion. 
K  67 


"1 


THESEUS 

Orcomosion, 
the  name  of  a 
place. 


Auncient 
tombes  of  los- 
enge  facion. 


Thermodon, 
nowe  called 
Haemon  fl. 


Hippolytus 
Theseussoune 
by  Antiopa. 


Phaedra 

Theseus  wife, 
and  Minos 
daughter  king 
of  Creta. 

Theseus 
manages. 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

Howsoever  it  was,  it  is  most  certain  that  this  warre  was 
ended  by  agreement.  For  a  place  adjoyning  to  the  temple 
of  Theseus,  dothe  beare  recorde  of  it,  being  called  Orcomo- 
sium  :  bicause  the  peace  was  there  by  solemne  othe  con- 
cluded. And  the  sacrifice  also  dothe  truely  verifie  it,  which 
they  have  made  to  the  Amazones,  before  the  feast  of 
Theseus,  long  time  out  of  minde.  They  of  Megara  also  doe 
shewe  a  tumbe  of  the  Amazones  in  their  cittie,  which  is  as 
they  goe  from  the  market  place,  to  the  place  they  call  Rhus : 
where  they  finde  an  auncient  tumbe,  cut  in  facion  and  forme 
of  a  losenge.  They  saye  that  there  died  other  of  the 
Amazones  also,  neere  unto  the  cittie  of  Chaeronea,  which  were 
buried  all  alongest  the  litle  broke  passing  by  the  same,  which 
in  the  olde  time,  (in  mine  opinion)  was  called  Thermodon, 
and  is  nowe  named  Haemon,  as  we  have  in  other  places 
written  in  the  life  of  Demosthenes.  And  it  semeth  also,  that 
they  dyd  not  passe  through  Thessalie,  without  fighting :  for 
there  are  seene  yet  of  their  tumbes  all  about  the  cittie  of 
Scotusa,  hard  by  the  rocks,  which  be  called  the  doggs  head. 
And  this  is  that  which  is  worthy  memorie  (in  mine  opinion) 
touching  the  warres  of  these  Amazones.  How  tlie  Poet 
telleth  that  the  Amazones  made  warres  with  Theseus  to 
revenge  the  injurie  he  dyd  to  their  Queene  Antiopa,  refusing 
her,  to  marye  with  Phaedra :  and  as  for  the  murder  which  he 
telleth  that  Hercules  dyd,  that  me  thinckes  is  altogether  but 
devise  of  Poets.  It  is  very  true,  that  after  the  death  of 
Antiopa,  Theseus  maried  Phaedra,  having  had  before  of 
Antiopa  a  sonne  called  Hippolytus,  or  as  the  Poet  Pindarus 
writeth,  Demophon.  And  for  that  the  Historiographers  doe 
not  in  any  thing  speake  against  the  tragicall  Poets,  in  that 
which  concerneth  the  ill  happe  that  chaunced  to  him,  in  the 
persons  of  this  his  wife  and  of  his  sonne  :  we  must  needes  take 
it  to  be  so,  as  we  finde  it  written  in  the  tragedies.  And 
yet  we  finde  many  other  reportes  touching  the  manages  of 
Theseus,  whose  beginnings  had  no  great  good  honest  ground, 
neither  fell  out  their  endes  very  fortunate :  and  yet  for  all 
that  they  have  made  no  tragedies  of  them,  neither  have  they 
bene  played  in  the  Theaters,  For  we  reade  that  he  tooke 
away  Anaxo  the  Troezenian,  and  that  after  he  had  killed 
58 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

Sinnis  and  Cercyon,  he  tooke  their  daughters  perforce :  and  THESEUS 
that  he  dyd  also  marye  Peribsea,  the  mother  of  Ajax,  and 
afterwards  Pherebaea,  and  loppa  the  daughter  of  Iphicles. 
And  they  blame  him  much  also,  for  that  he  so  lightly  for- 
sooke  his  wife  Ariadne,  for  the  love  of  JEgles  the  daughter 
of  Panopaeus,  as  we  have  recited  before.     Lastely,  he  tooke 
awaye  Hellen :  which  ravishement  filled  all  the  Realme  of 
Attica  with  warres,  and  finally  was  the  very  occasion  that 
forced  him  to  forsake  his  countrye,  and  brought  him  at  the 
length  to  his  ende,  as  we  will  tell  you  hereafter.     Albeit  in 
his  time  other  princes  of  Grece  had  done  many  goodly  and 
notable  exploits  in  the  warres,  yet  Herodotus  is  of  opinion, 
that  Theseus  was  never  in  any  one  of  them  :  saving  that  he  Theseus 
was   at  the  battell  of  the  Lapithae  against  the  Centauri.  battels. 
Others  saye  to  the  contrarie,'  that  he  was  at  the  jomey  of 
Cholchide  with  lason,  and  that  he  dyd  helpe  Meleager  to 
kill  the  wilde  bore  of  Calydonia :  from  whence  (as  they  saye) 
this  proverbe  came  :  '  Not  without  Theseus."*     Meaning  that  Proverbe. 
suche  a  thing  was  not  done  without  great  helpe  of  another.  ^  Not  without 
Howbeit  it  is  certaine  that  Theseus  self  dyd  many  actes,      eseus. 
without  ayde  of  any  man,  and  that  for  his  valiantnes  this 
proverbe  came  in  use,  which  is  spoken :   '  This  is  another  Proverbe. 
'  Theseus.'    Also  he  dyd  helpe  Adrastus  kino-  of  the  Arrives,  'This  is  ano-^ 
to  recover  the  bodyes  of  those  that  were  slayne  in  the  battell,  neseus. 

before  the  cittie  of  Thebes.  Howbeit  it  was  not,  as  the  poet 
Euripides  sayeth,  by  force  of  amies,  after  he  had  overcome 
the  Thebans  in  battell :  but  it  was  by  composition.  And 
thus  the  greatest  number  of  the  most  auncient  writers  doe 
declare  it.  Furthermore,  Philochorus  writeth,  that  this  was 
the  first  treatie  that  ever  was  made  to  recover  the  dead 
bodyes  slayne  in  battell :  nevertheles  we  doe  reade  in  the 
histories  and  gestes  of  Hercules,  that  he  was  the  first  that 
ever  suffered  his  enemies  to  carye  awaye  their  dead  bodyes, 
after  they  had  bene  put  to  the  sword.  But  whosoever  he 
was,  at  this  daye  in  the  village  of  Eleutheres,  they  doe  showe 
the  place  where  the  people  were  buried,  and  where  princes 
tumbes  are  seene  about  the  cittie  of  Eleusin,  which  he  made 
at  the  request  of  Adrastus.  And  for  testimonie  hereof,  the 
tragedie  iEschilus  made  of  the  Eleusinians,  where  he  causeth 

59 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 


THESEUS 


Theseus  val- 
liantnes  the 
cause  of  Piri- 
thous  friend- 
shippe  with 
him. 


Pirithous  and 
Theseus 
sworne  bre- 
thern  in  the 
field. 

Pirithous 
maried  Dei- 
damia. 

The  Lapithae 

overcomenthe 

Centauri. 


Theseus  and 
Hercules  met 
at  Trachina. 


it  to  be  spoken  even  thus  to  Theseus  himself,  dothe  clerely 
overthrowe  the  petitioners  in  Euripides.  Touching  the 
friendshippe  betwixt  Pirithous  and  him,  it  is  sayed  it  beganne 
thus.  The  renowne  of  his  valliancy  was  marvelously  blowen 
abroade  through  all  Grece,  and  Pirithous  desirous  to  knowe 
it  by  experience,  went  even  of  purpose  to  invade  his  countrye, 
and  brought  awaye  a  certaine  bootie  of  oxen  of  his  taken  out 
of  the  countrye  of  Marathon.  Theseus  being  advertised 
therof,  armed  straight,  and  went  to  the  rescue.  Pirithous 
hearing  of  his  comming,  fled  not  at  all,  but  returned  backe 
sodainly  to  mete  him.  And  so  sone  as  they  came  to  see  one 
another,  they  both  wondred  at  eche  others  beawtie  and 
corage,  and  so  had  they  no  desire  to  fight.  But  Pirithous 
reaching  out  his  hande  first  to  Theseus,  sayed  unto  him.  I 
make  your  selfe  judge  of  the  damage  you  have  susteined  by 
my  invasion,  and  with  all  my  harte  I  will  make  suche  satisfac- 
tion, as  it  shall  please  you  to  assesse  it  at.  Theseus  then 
dyd  not  only  release  him,  of  all  the  damages  he  had  done, 
but  also  requested  him  he  would  become  his  friend,  and 
brother  in  armes.  Hereupon  they  were  presently  sworne 
brethren  in  the  fielde  :  after  which  othe  betwixt  them, 
Pirithous  maried  Deidamia,  and  sent  to  praye  Theseus  to 
come  to  his  mariage,  to  visite  his  countrye,  and  to  make 
merye  with  the  Lapithas.  He  had  bidden  also  the  Centauri 
to  the  feast :  who  being  druncke,  committed  many  lewde 
partes,  even  to  the  forcing  of  women.  Howbeit  the  Lapithae 
chasticed  them  so  well,  that  they  slewe  some  of  them  pre- 
sently in  the  place,  and  drave  the  rest  afterwards  out  of  all 
the  countrye  by  the  helpe  of  Theseus,  who  armed  him  selfe, 
and  fought  on  their  side.  Yet  Herodotus  writeth  the 
matter  somewhat  contrarie,  saying  that  Theseus  went  not  at 
all  untill  the  warre  was  well  begonne :  and  that  it  was  the 
first  time  that  he  sawe  Hercules,  and  spake  with  him  neere 
unto  the  cittie  of  Trachina,  when  he  was  then  quiet,  having 
ended  all  his  farre  voyages,  and  greatest  troubles.  They 
reporte  that  this  meeting  together  was  full  of  great  cheere, 
much  kindnes,  and  honorable  entertainement  betwene  them, 
and  howe  great  curtesie  was  offred  to  eache  other.  Never- 
theles  me  thincks  we  should  geve  better  credit  to  those 
60 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

writers  that  saye  they  mett  many  times  together,  and  that  THESEUS 
Hercules  was  accepted  and  receyved  into  the  brotherhed  of 
the  mysteries  of  Eleusin,  by  the  meanes  of  the  countenaunce 
and  favour  which  Theseus  showed  unto  him  :  and  that  his 
purification  also  was  thereby  allowed  of,   who  was   to  be 
purged  of  necessitie  of  all  his  ill  deedes  and  cruelties,  before 
he  could  enter  into  the  companie  of  those  holy  mysteries. 
Furthermore,  Theseus  was  fiftie  yeres  olde  when  he  tooke  Theseus  fiftie 
awaye  Hellen  and  ravished  her,  which  was  very  younge,  and  y^re  olde 
not  of  age  to  be  maried,  as  Hellanicus  sayeth.     By  reason  ^"^"  "^ 

•/  •/  r3,visiii*fl 

whereof,  some  seeking  to  hyde  the  ravishcment  of  her  as  a  Hellen 
haynous  facte,  doe  reporte  it  was  not  he,  but  one  Idas  and 
Lynceus  that  caryed  her  awaye,  who  left  her  in  his  custodie 
and  keeping  :  and  that  Theseus  would  have  kept  her  from 
them,  and  would  not  have  delivered  her  to  her  brethern  Castor 
and  Pollux,  which  afterwardes  dyd  demaunde  her  againe  of 
him.     Others  againe  save  it  was  her  owne  father  Tyndarus, 
who  gave  her  him  to   keepe,  for  that  he  was  afFrayed  of 
Enarsphorus  the  sonne  of  Hippocoon,  who  would  have  had 
her  away  by  force.      But  that  which  commeth  nearest  to 
the  trothe  in  this  case,  and  which  in  deede  by  many  authors 
is  testified,  was  in  this  sorte.     Theseus  and  Pirithous  went  The  manner 
together  to  the  cittie  of  Lacedaemon,  where  they  tooke  awaye  of  Hellens 
Hellen  (being  yet  very  younge)  even  as  she  was  dauncing  in  ravishement. 
the  temple  of  Diana  surnamed  Orthia :  and  they  fled  for  life.  Diana  Orthia. 
They  of  Lacedaemon  sent  after  her,  but  those  that  followed 
went  no  further  then  the  cittie  of  Tegea.     Now  when  they 
were  escaped  out  of  the   countrye  of  Peloponnesus,  they 
agreed  to  drawe  lots  together,  which  of  them  two  should 
have  her,  with  condition  that  whose  lot  it  were  to  have  her, 
he  should  take  her  to  his  wife,  and  should  be  bound  also  to 
helpe  his  companion  to  get  him  another.     It  was  Theseus 
happe  to  light  upon  her,  who  caryed  her  to  the  cittie  of  Theseus  lefte 
Aphidnes,  bicause  she   was  yet  to  younge  to  be   maried.  Hellen  in  the 
Whether  he  caused  his  mother  to  come  to  bring  her  up,  and  "^V^?  ^^ 
gave  his  friend  called  Aphidnus  the  charge  of  them  both,  "  ^  '  "*^"^" 
recommending  her  to  his  good  care,  and  to  kepe  it  so  secretly, 
that   no   bodye   should    knowe    what    was   become   of  her. 
Bicause  he  would  doe  the  like  for  Pirithous  (according  to 

61 


LIVES    OF    THE    NOBLE 


THESEUS 

Theseus  went 

withPirithous 

into  Epirus, 

to  steale 

Proserpina 

Aidoneus 

daughter. 


Pirithous 
tome  in  peces 
with  Cerberus. 

Theseus  close 
prisoner. 


The  warre  of 
the  Tyndari- 
des  against 
the  Athe- 
nians. 


th'  agrement  made  betwext  them)  he  went  into  Epirus  with 
him  to  steale  the  daughter  of  Aidoneus,  king  of  the  Molos- 
sians,  who  had  surnamed  his  wife  Proserpina,  his  daughter 
Proserpina,  and  his  dogg  Cerberus  :  with  whom  he  made 
them  fight  which  came  to  aske  his  daughter  in  mariage, 
promising  to  geve  her  to  him  that  should  overcome  his 
Cerberus.  But  the  King  understanding  that  Pirithous  was 
come,  not  to  request  his  daughter  in  mariage,  but  to  steale 
her  away,  he  tooke  him  prisoner  with  Theseus  :  and  as  for 
Pirithous,  he  caused  him  presently  to  be  torne  in  peces  with 
his  dogge,  and  shut  Theseus  up  in  close  prison.  In  this 
meane  time  there  was  one  at  Athens  called  Menestheus,  the 
Sonne  of  Peteus  :  which  Peteus  was  the  sonne  of  Orneus,  and 
Orneus  was  the  sonne  of  Erictheus.  This  Menestheus  was 
the  first  that  beganne  to  flatter  the  people,  and  did  seeke  to 
winne  the  favour  of  the  communaltie,  by  sweete  entising 
words  :  by  which  devise  he  stirred  up  the  chiefest  of  the 
cittie  against  Theseus  (who  in  deede  long  before  beganne  to 
be  wearie  of  him)  by  declaring  unto  them  howe  Theseus  had 
taken  from  them  their  royalties  and  signiories,  and  had  shut 
them  up  in  suche  sorte  within  the  walles  of  a  cittie,  that  he 
might  the  better  keepe  them  in  subjection  and  obedience  in 
all  things,  after  his  will.  The  poor  inferiour  sorte  of  people, 
he  dyd  stirre  up  also  to  rebellion,  persuading  them  that  it 
was  no  other  then  a  dreame  of  libertie  which  was  promised 
them :  and  howe  contrariwise  they  were  clearely  dispossest 
and  throwen  out  of  their  own  houses,  of  their  temples,  and 
from  their  naturall  places  where  they  were  borne,  to  thend 
only,  that  in  liewe  of  many  good  and  loving  lordes  which 
they  were  wont  to  have  before,  they  should  now  be  compelled 
to  serve  one  onely  hedde,  and  a  straunge  lorde.  Even  as 
Menestheus  was  very  hotte  about  this  practise,  the  warre 
of  the  Tyndarides  fell  out  at  that  instant,  which  greatly 
furthered  his  pretence.  For  these  Tyndarides  (to  wit  the 
children  of  Tyndarus)  Castor  and  Pollux,  came  downe  with 
a  great  armie,  against  the  cittie  of  Athens  :  and  some  suspect 
sore  that  Menestheus  was  cause  of  their  comming  thither. 
Howbeit  at  the  first  entrie  they  dyd  no  hurte  at  all  in  the 
eountrye,  but  only  demaunded  restitution  of  their  sister. 
62 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

To  whom  the  citizens  made  aunswer,  that  they  knewe  not  THESEUS 
where  she  was  left :  and  then  the  brethern  beganne  to  make 
spoyle,  and  offer  warre  in  deede.     Howbeit  there  was  one 
called  Academus,  who  having  knowledge  (I  can  not  tell  by 
what  meane)  that  she  was  secretly  hidden  in  the  cittie  of 
Aphidnes,  revealed  it  unto  them.     By  reason  whereof  the 
Tyndarides  did  alwayes  honour  him  very  much,  so  long  as 
he  lived,  and  afterwards  the  Lacedaemonians,  having  ofte 
burnt  and  destroyed  the  whole  countrye  of  Attica  through- 
out, they  would  yet  never  touch  the  Academy  of  Athens  for 
Academus  sake.     Yet  Dicearchus  sayeth,  that  in  the  armie 
of  the  Tyndarides  there  were  two  Arcadians,  Echedemus, 
and  Marathus,  and  howe  of  the  name  of  one  of  them,  it  was 
then  called  the  place  of  Echedemie,  which  sithence  hath  bene  Academia 
called  Academia  :  and  after  the  name  of  the  other,  there  why  so  called, 
was  a  village  called  Marathon,  bicause  he  willingly  offered  Marathon, 
him  self  to  be  sacrificed  before  the  battell,  as  obeying  the 
order  and  commandement  of  a  prophecie.    So  they  went  and  Aphidnes 
pitched  their  campe  before   the   cittie    of  Aphidnes,    and  wonne  and 
having  wonne  the  battell,  and  taken  the  cittie  by  assault,  E?*^^^  by  the 
they  raced  the  place.     They  saye  that  Alycus,  the  sonne  of    ^ 
Sciron  was  slaine  at  this  field,  who  was  in  the  hoaste  of  the 
Tyndarides,  and  that  after  his  name,  a  certaine  quarter  of  Alycus  Sci- 
the  territorie  of  Megara  was  called  Alycus,  in  the  which  his  ^^^^  sonne 
bodye  was  buried.     Howbeit  Hereas  writeth  that  Theseus  batSo? 
self  dyd  kill  him  before  Aphidnes  :    In  witnes  whereof  he  Aphidnes. 
alledgeth  certain  verses  which  speake  of  Alycus. 

While  as  he  sought  with  all  his  might  and  mayue 

(in  thy  defence,  fayer  Hellen  for  to  fight) 
111  Aphidnes,  upon  the  pleasauiit  playne, 

bold  Theseus  to  cruell  deathe  him  dight. 

Howbeit  it  is  not  likely  to  be  true,  that  Theseus  being 
there,  the  cittie  of  Aphidnes,  and  his  mother  also  were  taken. 
But  when  it  was  wonne,  they  of  Athens  beganne  to  quake 
for  feare,  and  Menestheus  counselled  them  to  receyve  the 
Tyndarides  into  the  cittie,  and  to  make  them  good  chere,  so 
they  would  make  no  warres  but  upon  Theseus,  which  was  the 
first  that  had  done  them  the  wrong  and  injurie  :  and  that 

63 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

THESEUS  to  all  other  els  they  should  showe  favour  and  good  will. 
And  so  it  fell  out.  For  when  the  Tyndarides  had  all  in 
their  power  to  doe  as  they  listed,  they  demaunded  nothing 
els  but  that  they  might  be  received  into  their  corporation, 
and  not  to  be  reckoned  for  straungers,  no  more  then  Hercules 
was  :  the  which  was  graunted  the  Tyndarides,  and  Aphidnus 
dyd  adopt  them  for  his  children,  as  Pylius  had  adopted 
Hercules.  Moreover  they  dyd  honour  them  as  if  they  had 
bene  godds,  calling  them  Anaces.  Either  bicause  they  ceased 
the  warres,  or  for  that  they  ordered  them  selves  so  well,  that 
their  whole  armie  being  lodged  within  the  cittie,  there  was 
not  any  hurte  or  displeasure  done  to  any  persone  :  but  as  it 
became  those  that  have  the  charge  of  any  thing,  they  did 
carefully  watche  to  preserve  the  good  quiet  thereof.  All 
which  this  Greke  word  Anacos  doth  signifie,  wherof  per- 
chaunce  it  comes  that  they  call  the  kings  Anactes.  There 
are  others  also  who  holde  opinion  that  they  were  called 
Anaces,  bicause  of  their  starres  which  appeared  in  the  ayer. 
For  the  Attican  tongue  sayeth,  Anacas,  and  Atiecathen : 
where  the  comon  people  saye  Ano,  and  Anotlien^  that  is 
to  saye,  above.  Nevertheles  ^thra,  Theseus  mother,  was 
caried  prisoner  to  Lacedaemon,  and  from  thence  to  Troia 
with  Hellen,  as  some  saye :  and  as  Homer  him  self  doth 
witnesse  in  his  verses,  where  he  speaketh  of  the  women  that 
followed  Hellen. 

iEthra  the  daughter  deare  of  Pitheus  aged  Syre, 

and  with  her  fayer  Clymene  she,  whose  eyes  most  men  desire. 

Yet  there  are  other  who  aswell  reject  these  two  verses, 
and  mainteine  they  are  not  Homers  :  as  also  they  reprove 
all  that  is  reported  of  Munychus.      To  wit,  that  Laodice 

'  '^""^''*  being  prively  conceived  of  him  by  Demophon,  he  was  brought 

up  secretly  by  ^thra  within  Troia.  But  Hister  the  his- 
torien  in  his  thirtenth  of  his  histories  of  Attica,  maketh 
a  recitall  farre  contrary  to  other,  saying:  that  some  hold 
opinion,  that  Paris  Alexander  was  slayne  in  battell  by 
Achilles,  and  Patroclus  in  the  countrye  of  Thessalie,  neere 

Sperchius  fl.  to  the  river  of  Sperchius,  and  that  his  brother  Hector  tooke 
the  cittie  of  Troezen,  from  whence  he  brought  awaye  iEthra : 
64 


The  Tynda- 
rides honour- 
ed as  godds, 
and  called 
Anaces. 

Cicero  de  Nat. 
dear.  lib.  3. 

Kings  called 
Anactes. 

Anaces  why 
so  called. 


iTlthra  taken 
prisoner,  and 
caried  to 
Lacedaemon. 


Divers 
opinions  of 
Homers 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

in  which  there  is  no  manner  of  apparance  or  likelihodde.  THESEUS 
But  .-Edoneus  king  of  the  Molossians,  feasting  Hercules  one 
daye  as  he  passed  through  his  realme,  descended  by  chaunce 
into  talke  of  Theseus  and  of  Pirithous,  howe  they  came  to 
steale  away  his  daughter  secretly  :  and  after  told  how  they 
were   also   punished,      Hercules    was    marvellous   sorye   to 
understand  that  one  of  them  was  now  dead,  and  the  other  in 
daunger  to  dye,  and  thought  with  him  self  that  to  make  his 
mone  to  -iEdoneus,  it  would  not  helpe  the  matter :  he  be- 
sought him  only  that  he  would  deliver  Theseus  for  his  sake. 
And  he  graunted  him.     Thus  Theseus   being  delivered  of  Theseus  deli- 
this  captivitie,  returned  to  Athens,  where  his  friends  were  ^^f^d  out  of 
not  altogether  kept  under  by  his  enemies  :  and  at  his  returne  c^es^meanes' 
he  dyd  dedicate  to  Hercules  all  the  temples,  which  the  cittie 
had  before  caused  to  be  built  in  his  owne  honour.     And 
where  first  of  all  they  were  called  Thesea,  he  did  now  surname 
them  all  Herculea,  excepting  foure,  as  Philochorus  writeth. 
Nowe  when  he  was  arrived  at  Athens,  he  would  immediately 
have  commaunded  and  ordered  things  as  he  was  wont  to  doe: 
but  he  found  him  self  troubled  much  with  sedition,  bicause 
those  who  had  hated  him  of  long  time,  had  added  also  to 
their  old  canckered  hate,  a  disdain  and  contempt  to  feare  The  Athe- 
him  any  more.     And  the  comon  people  now  were  become  niansdisdaine 
so  stubborn,  that  where  before  they  would  have  done  all  that    ^^  ^^ 
they  were  commanded,  and  have  spoken  nothing  to  the  con- 
trarie :   now  they  looked  to  be  borne  with,  and  flattered. 
Whereupon  Theseus  thought  at  the  first  to  have  used  force, 
but  he  was  forced  by  the  faction  and  contention  of  his 
enemies  to  let  all  alone,  and  in  the  end,  despairing  he  should 
ever  bring  his  matters  to  passe  to  his  desire,  he  secretly  sent 
away  his  children  into  the  He  of  Eubcea,  to  Elphenor  the 
Sonne  of  Chalcodus.     And  him  self,  after  he  had  made  many 
wishes  and  curses  against  the  Athenians,  in  the  village  of 
Gargettus,  in  a  place  which  for  that  cause  to  this  daye  is 
called  Araterion  :  (that  is  to  saye,  the  place  of  cursings)  he 
did  take  the  seas,  and  went  into  the  He  of  Sciros,  where  he  Tlieseus  fled 
had   goods,   and   thought    also    to    have    founde    friends,  f'"^"^  Athens 
Lycomedes  raigned  at  that  time,  and  was  king  of  the  He,  3^*^08^^       "^ 
unto  whom  Theseus  made  request  for  some  lande,  as  intend- 
I  65 


THESEUS 


Theseus 
cruelly  slayue 
by  Lycome- 
des. 


Menestheus 
king  of 
Athens. 


Theseus 
sonnes. 


Cimon  taketh 
the  He  of 
Sciros  and 
bringethThe 
seus  bones  to 
Athens. 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

ing  to  dwell  there  :  albeit  some  saye  that  he  required  him 
to  give  him  ayde  against  the  Athenians.     Lycomedes,  were 
it  that  he  douted  to  entertaine  so  great  a  personage,  or  that 
he  dyd  it  to  gratifie  Menestheus :  caried  him  up  to  the  high 
rocks,  faining  as  though  he  would  from  thence  have  shewed 
him  all  his  countrye  round  about.     But  when  he  had  him 
there,  he  threw  him  downe  hedlong  from  the  toppe  of  the 
rocks  to  the  bottome,  and  put  him  thus  unfortunately  to 
death.     Yet  other  write,  that  he  fell  down  of  him  self  by  an 
unfortunate  chaunce,  walking  one  daye  after  supper  as  he 
was  wont  to  doe.     There  was  no  man  at  that  time  that  dyd 
foUowe  or  pursue  his  death,  but  Menestheus  quietly  remained 
king  of  Athens  :   and  the  children  of  Theseus,  as  private 
souldiers  followed  Elphenor  in  the  warres  of  Troia.      But 
after  the  death  of  Menestheus,  who  died  in  the  jorney  to 
Troie,  Theseus  sonnes  returned  unto  Athens,   where  they 
recovered  their  state.     Sithence  there  were  many  occasions 
which  moved  the  Athenians  to  reverence  and  honour  him  as 
a  demy  god.    For  in  the  battell  of  Marathon,  many  thought 
they  sawe  his  shadow  and  image  in  armes,  fighting  against 
the  barbarous  people.     And  after  the  warres  of  the  Medes 
(the  yere  wherein  Phaedon  was  governour  of  Athens)  the 
nunne  Pithia  answered  the  Athenians,  who  had  sent  to  the 
oracle  of  Apollo  :  that  they  should  bring  backe  the  bones  of 
Theseus,  and  putting  them  in  some  honorable  place,  they 
should  preserve  and  honour  them  devoutely.     But  it  was  a 
harde  matter  to  finde  his  grave  :  and  if  they  had  founde  it, 
yet  had  it  bene  a  harder  thing  to  have  brought  his  bones 
awaye,  for  the  malice  of  those  barbarous  people  which  in- 
habited that  He  :  which  were  so  wild  and  fierce,  that  none 
could  trade  or  live  with  them.      Notwithstanding  Cimon 
having  taken  the  Hand  (as  we  have  written  in  his  life)  and 
seeking  his  grave  :  perceived  by  good  happe  an  eagle  pecking 
with  her  beake,  and  scraping  with  her  clawes  in  a  place  of 
some  prety  height.     Straight  it  came  into  his  minde  (as  by 
divine  inspiration)  to  searche  and  digge  the  place  :  where 
was  founde  the  tumbe  of  a  great  bodye,  with  the  head  of  a 
speare  which  was  of  brasse,  and  a  sword  with  it.     All  which 
things  were  brought  to  Athens  bv  Cimon  in  the  admirall 

m 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

gallic.     The  Athenians  received  them  with  great  joye,  with  THESEUS 
processions  and  goodly  sacrifices,  as  if  Theseus  him  self  had  Theseus 
bene  a  live,  and  had  returned  into  the  cittie  againe.    At  this  tumbe. 
daye  all  these  relicks  lye  yet  in  the  middest  of  the  cittie, 
neere  to  the  place  where  the  younge  men  doe  use  all  their    - 
exercises  of  bodye.     There  is  free  libertie  of  accesse  for  all 
slaves  and  poore  men,  (that  are  afflicted  and  pursued,  by  any 
mightier  then  themselves)  to  pray  and  sacrifice  in  remem- 
braunce  of  Theseus  :  who  while  he  lived  was  protectour  of 
the  oppressed,  and  dyd  curteously  receive  their  requests  and 
petitions  that  prayed  to  have  ayde  of  him.     The  greatest 
and  most  solemne  sacrifice  they  doe  unto  him,  is  on  the 
eight  daye  of  October,  in  which  he  returned  from  Creta, 
Avith  the  other  younge  children  of  Athens.     Howbeit  they 
doe  not  leave  to  honour  him  every  eight  daye  of  all  other 
moneths,  either  bicause  he  arrived  from  Troezen  at  Athens 
the  eight  daye   of   lune,   as   Diodorus   the    Cosmographer 
writeth  :    or   for   that    they   thought   that   number   to    be 
meetest  for  him,  bicause  the  bruite  ranne  he  was  begotten 
of  Neptune.     They  doe  sacrifice  also  to  Neptune,  the  eight  Neptune  why 
daye  of  every  moneth,  bicause  the  number  of  eight  is  the  c^Hed  Aspha- 
first  cube  made  of  even  number,  and  the  double  of  the  first  G!L1(fc'hus 
square :    which  dothe  represent  a  stedfastnes  immoveable, 
properly  attributed  to  the  might  of  Neptune,  whom 
for  this  cause  we  surname  Asphalius,  and  Gseiochus, 
which  by  interpretation  dothe  signifie :  the  safe 
keeper,  and  the  stayer  of  the  earthe. 

THE   ENDE    OF   THESEUS    LIFE 


67 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 
THE  LIFE  OF  ROMULUS 


Divers  opin- 
ions about 
the  name  of 
Rome. 


Tybris  fl. 


HE  Historiographers  doe  not  agree  in  their 
writings,  by  whom,  nor  for  what  cause, 
the  great  name  of  the  cittie  of  Rome  (the 
glorie  wherof  is  blowen  abroad  through 
all  the  worlde)  was  first  geven  unto  it. 
For  some  thincke  that  the  Pelasgians, 
after  they  had  overcome  the  greatest 
parte  of  the  world,  and  had  inhabited 
and  subdued  many  nations,  in  the  ende  dyd  staye  them 
selves  in  that  place  where  it  was  newe  buylded :  and  for 
their  great  strength  and  power  in  armes,  they  gave  the 
name  of  Rome  unto  the  cittie,  as  signifying  power  in  the 
Greeke  tongue.  Other  saye,  that  after  the  taking  and 
destruction  of  Troy  a,  there  were  certain  Troyans  which 
saving  them  selves  from  the  sworde,  tooke  suche  vessells  as 
they  founde  at  adventure  in  the  haven,  and  were  by  winds 
put  with  the  Thuscane  shore,  where  they  anckred  neere  xmto 
the  river  of  Tyber.  There  their  wives  being  so  sore  sea 
sicke,  that  possibly  they  could  not  any  more  endure  the 
boisterous  surges  of  the  seas :  it  happened  one  of  them 
among  the  rest  (the  noblest  and  wisest  of  the  companie) 
called  Roma,  to  counsaill  the  other  women  of  her  com- 
panions to  set  their  shippes  a  fire,  which  they  dyd  accord- 
ingly. Wherewith  their  husbands  at  the  first  were  mar- 
velously  offended.  But  afterwards,  being  compelled  of 
necessitie  to  plant  them  selves  neere  unto  the  cittie  of 
Pallantium,  they  were  appeased  when  they  sawe  things 
prosper  better  then  they  hoped  for,  finding  the  soyle  there 
fertile,  and  the  people  their  neighbours  civill  and  gentle  in 
entertaining  them.  Wherefore  amongest  other  honours  they 
dyd  to  requite  this  lady  Roma,  they  called  their  cittie  after 
her  name,  as  from  whom  came  the  originall  cause  of  the 
building  and  foundation  thereof.  They  saye  that  from 
thence  came  this  custome  continuing  yet  to  this  daye  at 
Rome,  that  the  women  saluting  their  kinsefolkes  and  hus- 
68 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

bands  doe   kisse  them   in   the   mouthe,  for  so   dyd  these  ROMULUS 
Troyan  ladyes  to  please  their  husbands,  and  to  winne  them  The  begin- 
againe,  after  they  had  lost  their  favours,  and  procured  their  ningofkissiug 
displeasures  with  burning  of  their  shippes.     Other  saye  that  fof^^s  i^^the 
Roma  was  the  daughter  of  Italus,  and  of  Lucaria,  or  els  of  mouthe  came 
Telephus  the  sonne  of  Hercules,  and  of  the  wife  of  iEneas :  from  the  Tro- 
other  saye  of  Ascanius,  the  sonne  of  iEneas,  who  named  the  ian  women, 
cittie  after  her  name.      Other  holde  opinion  that  it  was 
Romanus  (the  sonne  of  Vlysses  and   of  Circe)   that   first 
founded  Rome  :  other  will  saye  that  it  was  Romus  the  sonne 
of  Emathion,  whom  Diomedes   sent  thither   from  Troya. 
Other  write  that  it  was  one  Romis  a  tyranne  of  the  Latines, 
who  drave  the  Thuscans  out  of  those  partes  :  which  depart- 
ing out  of  Thessaly  went  first  of  all  into  Lydia,  and  after- 
wards from  Lydia  into  Italic.     And  furthermore,  they  who 
thincke  that  Romulus  (as  in  deede  it  carieth  best  likelyhod) 
was  he  that  gave  the  name  to  the  cittie,  doe  not  agree  about 
his  auncesters.     For  some  of  them  write,  that  he  was  the  Fables  of  Ro- 
sonne  of  ^Eneas  and  of  Dexithea  the  daughter  of  Phorbus,  mulusbyrthe. 
and  that  he  was  brought  into  Italic  of  a  litle  childe  with 
his  brother  Remus :    and  that  at  that  time   the  river  of 
Tyber  being  overflowen,  all  other  shippes  were  cast  awaye, 
saving  the  shippe  in  which  the  two  litle  boyes  were,  which 
by  great  good  happe  came  to  a  staye  upon  a  very  plaine 
even  grounde  on  the  bancke,  and  bicause  the  children  be- 
yond all  hope  were  saved  by  this  meanes,  therefore  the  place 
was  afterwardes  called  Roma.     Other  saye  that  Roma  the 
daughter  of  the  first  Troian  ladye  was  maried  unto  Latinus 
the  Sonne  of  Telemachus,  by  whom  she  had  Romulus.    Other 
write,  that  it  was  Emilia,  the  daughter  of  Mneas  and  of 
Lavinia,  which  was  gotten  with  childe  by  the  god  Mars. 
Other  tell  a  tale  of  Romulus  birth,  nothing  true  nor  likely. 
For  it  is  sayed  that  there  was  sometime  a  king  of  Alba 
named  Tarchetius,  a  very  wicked  and  cruell  man,  in  whose 
house  through  the  permission  of  the  goddes  appeared  such  a 
like  vision :  that  there  rose  up  in  the  harthe  of  his  chymney 
the  forme  and  facion  of  a  mans  privie  member,  which  con- 
tinued there  many  dayes.     And  they  saye,  that  at  that  time 
there  was  in  Thuscane  an  oracle  of  Thetis,  from  whom  they 

69 


Thetis  in 
Thuscaue. 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

ROMULUS  brought  unto  this  wicked  king  Tarchetius  suche  an  aunswer : 
All  oracle  of  that  he  should  cause  his  daughter  yet  unmaried  to  have 
camall  companie  with  the  straunge  thing,  for  she  should 
beare  a  sonne,  that  should  be  famous  for  his  valliancie,  for 
strength  of  bodye,  and  his  happie  successe  wherein  he  should 
exceede  all  men  of  his  time.  Tarchetius  tolde  this  oracle 
imto  one  of  his  daughters,  and  willed  her  to  entertaine  this 
straunge  thing:  but  she  disdaining  to  doe  it,  sent  one  of 
her  waiting  women  to  undertake  the  entertainement.  But 
Tarchetius  was  so  mad  at  this,  that  he  caused  them  both  to 
be  taken  to  put  them  to  death  :  howbeit  the  goddesse  Vesta 
appeared  to  him  in  his  sleepe  in  the  night,  and  charged  him 
he  should  not  doe  it.  Whereupon  he  dyd  commaund  them 
to  make  him  a  pece  of  clothe  in  the  prisone,  with  promise 
that  they  should  be  maried  when  they  had  finished  it. 
These  poore  maydes  toyled  at  it  all  the  live  longe  daye, 
but  in  the  night  there  came  other  (by  Tarchetius  com- 
maundement)  that  dyd  undoe  all  they  had  done  the  daye 
before.  In  the  meane  time,  this  waiting  woman  that  was 
gott  with  childe  by  this  straunge  thing,  was  delivered  of 
two  goodly  boyes  or  twynnes :  whom  Tarchetius  gave  unto 
one  Teratius,  with  expresse  commaundement  he  should  cast 
them  awaye.  This  Teratius  caryed  them  unto  the  bancke 
of  the  river  :  thither  came  a  shee  woulfe  and  gave  them 
sucke,  and  certaine  byrdes  that  brought  litle  crommes  and 
put  them  in  their  mouthes,  untill  a  swyneheard  perceyving 
them,  and  wondring  at  the  sight,  dyd  boldly  goe  to  the 
children,  and  tooke  them  awaye  with  him.  These  infantes 
being  thus  preserved  after  they  were  come  to  mans  state, 
dyd  set  upon  Tarchetius  and  slewe  him.  One  Promathion 
an  Italian  writer,  delivereth  this  storie  thus.  But  the 
reporte  that  carieth  best  credit  of  all,  and  is  allowed  of 
by  many  writers  :  commeth  from  Diodes  Peparethian 
(whome  Fabius  Pictor  followeth  in  many  thinges),  who  was 
the  first  that  put  forth  this  storie  among  the  Grecians,  and 
specially  the  chiefest  poynts  of  it.  Though  this  matter  be 
somewhat  diversely  taken,  yet  in  effect  the  storie  is  thus. 
The  right  line  and  bloude  of  the  kings  of  Alba  descended 
from  iEneas,  by  succession  from  the  father  to  the  sonne, 
70 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

and  the  Kingdome  fell  in  the  ende  betweene  two  brethern,  ROMULUS 
Numitor  and   Amulius.      They  agreed   by  lotte   to   make  See  the  frag- 
division  betweene  them,  whereof  the  one  to  have  the  King-  ??^°.*^  ^^. 
dome,  and  the  other  all  the  golde,  sylver,  readye  money,  and^of  Cato""' 
goodes,  and  juells  brought  from  Troia.     Numitor  by  his 
lotte  chose  the  Realme  for  his  portion :    Amulius  having  See  also  Ha- 
all  the  golde  and  treasure  in  his  handes,  dyd  finde  him  selfe  Hcarnasseus, 
thereby  the  stronger,  and  so  dyd  easely  take  his  Realme  a^n<l  ^  •  l^^vi^s. 
from  him.     And  fearing  least  his  brothers  daughter  might  Romulus 
liave  children  which  one  day  might  thrust  him  out  againe,  kiured. 
he  made  her  a  Nunne  of  the  goddesse  Vesta,  there  to  passe 
her  dayes  in  virginitie,  and  never  to  be  maried :  (some  call 
iier   Rhea,  other   Sylvia,  and    other  Ilia)   nevertheles   not  Romulus 
longe  after  she  was  founde  with  childe,  against  the  rule  and  mother, 
profession  of  the  Vestall  Nunnes.     So  nothing  had  saved  her 
from  present  death,  but  the  petition  of  Antho  the  daughter 
of  king  Amulius,  who  intreated  her  father  for  her  life :  yet 
notwithstanding  she  was  straightly  locked  up,  that  no  body 
could  see   her,  nor  speake  with   her,  least  she    should  be 
brought  a  bedde  without  Amulius  knowledge.     In  the  ende 
she  was  delivered  of  two  fayre  boyes  and  marveilous  great 
twynnes  :  which  made  Amulius  more  afFrayed  then  before. 
So  he  commaunded  one  of  his  men  to  take  the  two  children, 
and  to  thro  we  them  awaye,  and  destroy  e  them.     Some  saye 
that  this  servants  name  was  Faustulus  :  other  thincke  it  was  Faustulus. 
he  that  brought  them  up.     But  whosoever  he  was,  he  that 
had  the  charge  to  throwe  them  awaye,  put  them  in  a  troughe, 
and  went  towards  the  river  with  intention  to  throwe  them 
in.     Howbeit  he  found  it  risen  so  highe,  and  running  so 
swiftely,  that  he  durst  not  come  neere  the  waters  side,  and 
so  they  being  in  the  troughe,  he  layed  them  on  the  bancke. 
In  the  meane  time  the  river  swelling  still,  and  overflow^ing 
the  bancke,  in  such  sorte  that  it  came  under  the  troughe : 
dyd  gently  lifte  up  the  troughe,  and  caried  it  unto  a  great 
playne,  called  at  this  present  Cermanum,  and  in  the  olde  Cermanum. 
time  Germanum  (as  I  take  it)  bicause  the  Romaines  called 
the  brothers  of  father  and  mother,  Germani.     No  we  there 
was  neere  unto  this  place  a  wilde  figge  tree  which  they  called 
Ruminalis,  of  the   name  of  Romulus   as    the    most  parte  Ruminalis. 

71 


The  goddesse 
Rumilia. 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

ROMULUS  thought:  or  els  bicause  the  beasts  feeding  there  were  wont 
to  come  under  the  same  in  the  extreame  heate  of  the  daye, 
and  there  dyd  Ruminate,  that  is,  chewe  their  cudde  in  the 
shadowe :  or  perhappes  bicause  that  the  two  children  dyd 
sucke  the  teate  of  the  woulfe,  which  the  auncient  Latines 
call  Ruma,  and  they  at  this  day  doe  yet  call  the  goddesse  on 
whom  they  crye  out  to  geve  their  children  sucke,  Rumilia. 
And  in  their  sacrifices  to  her  they  use  no  wine,  but  offer  up 
milke  and  water  mingled  with  honye.  To  these  two  children 
lying  there  in  this  sorte,  they  write,  there  came  a  she  woulfe 
and  gave  them  sucke  :  and  a  hitwaw  also  which  dyd  helpe 
to  norishe  and  keepe  them.  These  two  beastes  are  thought 
to  be  consecrated  to  the  god  Mars,  and  the  Latines  doe 
singularly  honour  and  reverence  the  hitwaw.  This  dyd 
much  helpe  to  geve  credit  to  the  wordes  of  the  mother,  who 
affirmed  she  was  conceyved  of  those  two  children,  by  the  god 
Mars.  Howbeit  some  thincke  she  was  deceyved  in  her 
opinion :  for  Amulius  that  had  her  maidenhead,  went  to 
her  all  armed,  and  perforce  dyd  ravishe  her.  Other  holde 
opinion  that  the  name  of  the  nurce  which  gave  the  two 
children  sucke  with  her  breastes,  gave  occasion  to  common 
reporte  to  erre  much  in  this  tale,  by  reason  of  the  double 
signification  thereof.  For  the  Latines  doe  call  with  one 
selfe  name  shee  woulfes  Lupas^  and  women  that  geve  their 
bodyes  to  all  commers :  as  this  nurce  the  wife  of  Faustulus 
(that  brought  these  children  home  to  her  house)  dyd  use  to 
doe.  By  her  right  name  she  was  called  Acca  Laurentia, 
unto  whom  the  Romaines  doe  sacrifice  yet  unto  this  daye : 
and  the  priest  of  Mars  doth  offer  unto  her,  in  the  moneth  of 
Aprill,  the  sheading  of  wine  and  milke  accustomed  at 
burialls,  and  the  feast  it  selfe  is  called  Larentia.  It  is 
true  that  they  honour  also  another  Larentia,  for  like  occa- 
sion. The  clercke  or  sexten  of  Hercules  temple,  not  know- 
ing one  daye  howe  to  drive  awaye  the  time  as  it  should 
seeme :  of  a  certaine  livelines  and  boldnes,  dyd  desire  the 
god  Hercules  to  playe  at  dyce  with  him,  with  condition  that 
if  he  dyd  winne,  Hercules  should  be  bounde  to  send  him 
some  good  fortune  :  and  if  it  were  his  lucke  to  lose,  then  he 
promised  Hercules  he  would  provide  him  a  very  good  supper, 
72 


Acca  Lauren- 
tia Faustulus 
wife,  that 
nurced  the 
twynnes. 

The  Greeke 
sayeth  Laren- 
tia. 

Larentia 
feast. 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

and  would  besides  bring  him  a  fayer  gentlewoman  to  lye  ROMULUS 
with  all.  The  conditions  of  the  playe  thus  rehearsed,  the 
sexten  first  cast  the  dyce  for  Hercules,  and  afterwards  for 
him  sclfe.  It  fell  out  that  Hercules  wanne,  and  the  sexten 
meaning  good  fayth,  and  thincking  it  very  mete  to  performe 
the  bargaine  that  him  selfe  had  made,  prepared  a  good 
supper,  and  hyered  this  Laurentia  the  courtisan,  which  was  Laurentia  a 
very  fayer,  but  as  yet  of  no  great  fame  to  come  to  it.  Thus  courtisan. 
having  feasted  her  within  the  temple,  and  prepared  a  bedde 
readye  there,  after  supper  he  locked  her  into  the  temple,  as 
if  Hercules  should  have  comen  in  dede  and  layen  with  her. 
And  it  is  said  for  trothe,  that  Hercules  came  thither :  and 
commaunded  her  in  the  morning  she  should  goe  into  the 
market  place,  and  salute  the  first  man  she  met,  and  kepe 
him  ever  for  her  friend.  Which  thing  she  performed,  and 
the  first  man  she  met  was  called  Tarrutius,  a  man  of  great  Tarrutius. 
yeres,  and  one  that  had  gathered  together  marveilous  wealth 
and  riches.  He  had  no  children  at  all,  neither  was  he  ever 
maried.  He  fell  acquainted  with  this  Laurentia,  and  loved 
her  so  dearely,  that  shortely  after  chauncing  to  dye,  he  made 
her  heire  of  all  he  had :  whereof  she  disposed  afterwards  by 
her  last  will  and  testament,  the  best  and  greatest  parte  unto 
the  people  of  Rome.  Moreover  it  is  reported  also,  that 
she  now  being  growen  to  be  famous  and  of  great  honour 
(as  thought  to  be  the  lemman  of  a  god)  dyd  vanishe  away 
sodainely  in  the  self  same  place,  where  the  first  Laurentia 
was  buried.  The  place  at  this  day  is  called  Velabrum :  V'elabrum 
bicause  the  river  being  ovei-flowen,  they  were  oftentimes  « hereof  Z-ftte 
compelled  to  passe  by  bote  to  goe  to  the  market  place,  and  ^^^'  ^'  '  7- 
they  called  this  manner  of  ferrying  over,  Velatura.  Other 
saye,  that  those  tomblers  and  common  players,  which  shewed 
sundrye  games  and  pastimes  to  winne  the  favour  of  the 
people,  were  wont  to  cover  that  passage  over  with  canvas 
clothes  and  veyles,  by  which  they  goe  from  the  market  place 
to  the  lystes  or  shewe  place  where  they  ronne  their  horses, 
beginning  their  race  even  at  the  place :  and  they  call  a  veyle 
in  their  tongue.  Velum.  This  is  the  cause  why  the  seconde 
Laurentia  is  honored  at  Rome.  Faustulus,  chief  neateheard 
to  Amulius,  tooke  up  the  two  children  and  no  bodye  knewe 
K  73 


LIVES   OF   THE    NOBLE 

ROMULUS   it,  as  some  saye :  or  as  other  reporte,  (and  likest  to  be  true) 
with   the   privitie   and    knowledge    of    Numitor,   Amulius 
brother,   who   secretly   furnished    them   with    money  that 
brought  up  the  two  young  children.     It  is  sayed  also  they 
were  both  conveyed  unto  the  cittie  of  the  Gabians,  where 
Romulus  and    they  were  brought  up  at  schole,  and  taught  all  other  honest 
Remus  educa-  things,  which  they  use  to  teache  the  sonnes  and  children  of 
^*^°"  good  and  noble  men.     Further  they  saye  they  were  named 

Remus  and  Romulus,  bicause  they  were  founde  sucking  on 
the  teates  of  a  woulfe.  Nowe  the  beawtie  of  their  bodyes 
dyd  presently  shewe,  beholding  onely  but  their  stature  and 
manner  of  their  countenaunces,  of  what  nature  and  linadge 
they  were :  and  as  they  grewe  in  yeres,  their  manly  corage 
increased  marvelously,  so  as  they  became  stowte  and  hardy 
men,  in  so  much  as  they  were  never  troubled  or  astonied  at 
any  daunger  that  was  offered  them.  Howbeit  it  appeared 
plainely  that  Romulus  had  more  wit  and  understanding  then 
his  brother  Remus.  For  in  all  things  wherein  they  were  to 
deale  with  their  neighbours,  either  concerning  hunting,  or 
the  boundes  and  limites  of  their  pastures  :  it  was  easely  dis- 
cerned in  him,  that  he  was  borne  to  commaund,  and  not  to 
obeye.  For  this  cause  they  were  both  exceedingly  beloved 
of  their  companions,  and  of  those  which  were  their  inferiours. 
As  for  the  kings  heardmen,  they  passed  not  muche  for  them, 
saying  that  they  were  even  like  them  selves,  and  so  seemed 
not  to  care  a  Pynne  for  their  anger  or  displeasure,  but  wholy 
gave  them  selves  to  all  gentlemanly  exercises  and  trades, 
thincking  to  live  idely  and  at  ease  without  travell,  was 
neither  comly  nor  convenient :  but  to  exercise  and  harden 
their  bodyes  with  hunting,  running,  pursuing  murderers 
and  theeves,  and  to  helpe  those  which  were  oppressed  with 
wronge  and  violence,  shoulde  be  credit  and  commendation  to 
them.  By  reason  whereof,  in  very  shorte  time  they  grewe 
to  great  fame  and  renowne.  And  it  fell  out  by  chaunce 
there  rose  some  stryfe  and  variance  betwene  the  heardmen 
of  Amulius,  and  the  heardmen  of  Numitor  :  in  so  muche  as 
those  that  were  Numitors,  caryed  awaye  by  force  some  cattell 
of  the  others.  Thother  side  would  not  beare  that,  but  pur- 
sued fast  after,  and  beating  them  well  favoredly,  they  made 
74 


■^ 


GRECIANS    AND   ROMANES 

them  take  their  legges,  and  brought  backe  againe  the  greatest  ROMULUS 
parte  of  the  cattell  they  had  caried  away  with  them.  Wherat 
Numitor  stormed  marveilously,  but  yet  his  men  seemed  to 
make  but  litle  accoumpt  of  it,  and  purposing  revenge,  they 
gathered  about  them  a  good  companie  of  vacabonds  (that 
had  neither  home,  nor  resting  place)  and  certaine  fugitive 
bonde  men  which  they  intised  ill  favoredly,  incoraging  them 
to  steale  awaye  from  their  masters.  Thus  one  daye  whilest 
Romulus  was  busie  about  some  sacrifice,  (being  a  devoute  Romulus  a 
man  and  religious,  and  well  geven  to  serve  the  goddes,  and  godly  man. 
to  leame  to  divine  and  tell  before  hande  what  things  should 
liappen  and  come  to  passe)  it  happened  the  heard  men  of 
Numitor  to  meete  Remus  very  slenderly  accompanied  :  so 
they  fell  upon  him  sodainely,  blowes  were  delt  rowndely  on 
bothe  sides,  and  men  were  hurte  on  either  parte.  Howbeit 
Numitors  men  in  the  ende  proved  the  stronger  parte,  and 
dyd  take  Remus  by  force,  and  caryed  him  straight  before  Remus  taken 
Numitor,  alledging  many  complaintes  and  matters  against  of  Numitors 
him.  Numitor  durst  not  punish  him  of  his  owne  authoritie, 
bicause  he  feared  his  brother  Amulius,  who  was  somewhat 
terrible :  but  went  unto  him,  and  earnestly  besought  him  to 
doe  him  justice,  and  not  to  suffer  him  being  his  owne  brother, 
to  receyve  such  injurye  of  his  men.  There  was  not  a  man  in 
the  cittie  of  Alba,  but  dyd  greatly  mislike  the  inj  urie  done 
to  Numitor :  and  spake  it  openly,  that  he  was  no  persone  to 
be  offered  such  a  wronge.  In  so  muche  as  Amulius  moved 
herewith,  dyd  deliver  Remus  into  his  handes,  to  punishe  him 
as  he  thought  good.  Whereupon  Numitor  caried  him  home 
with  him.  But  when  he  had  him  in  his  house,  he  beganne 
to  consider  better  of  him,  with  admiration  howe  goodly  a 
younge  man  he  was,  howe  in  height  and  strength  of  bodye  he 
passed  all  the  rest  of  his  people  :  and  perceyving  in  his  face 
an  assured  constancie,  and  bolde  stedfast  corage  that  yelded 
not,  nor  was  abashed  for  any  daunger  he  sawe  toward  him : 
and  hearing  also  the  reporte  of  his  actes  and  manhod  to  be 
aunswerable  to  that  he  sawe :  (being  chiefly  moved  in  mine 
opinion  by  some  secret  inspiration  of  the  goddes,  which 
ordaine  the  depthe  of  great  matters)  beganne  partely  by  Gods  provi- 
conjecture,  and  partely  by  chaunce  to  take  a  conceit  of  him.  dence. 

75 


ROMULUS 


Remus  ora- 
tion, declar- 
ing the  birth 
ofhim  self  and 
his  brother 
Romulus. 


Numitors 
wisdome. 


Faustulus 
care  to  save 
Remus. 


LIVES    OF    THE    NOBLE 

So  he  asked  him  what  he  was,  and  who  was  his  father  and 
mother :  speaking  to  him  in  a  more  gentle  wise,  and  with  a 
friendlier  countenaunce  then  before,  to  make  him  the  bolder 
to  answer,  and  be  of  better  hope.  Remus  boldly  aunswered 
him.  Truely  I  will  not  hide  the  trothe  from  thee,  for  thou 
seemest  to  me  more  worthie  to  be  King,  then  thy  brother 
Amulius.  For  thou  enquierest,  and  hearest  first  before 
thou  condemnest :  and  he  condemneth  before  he  examine  or 
heare  the  parties.  Untill  nowe,  we  thought  we  had  bene 
the  children  of  two  of  the  Kings  servants,  to  wit  of  Faustulus 
and  of  Laurentia :  I  saye  we,  bicause  my  brother  and  I  are 
two  twynnes.  But  seeing  we  are  nowe  falsely  accused  unto 
thee,  and  by  malicious  surmised  tales  are  wrongefuUy  brought 
in  daunger  of  our  lives :  we  intend  to  discover  our  selves, 
and  to  declare  straunge  things  unto  thee,  whereof  the  pre- 
sent perill  we  stande  nowe  in,  shall  plainely  prove  the  trothe. 
Men  saye  that  we  have  bene  begotten  miraculously,  fostered 
and  geven  sucke  more  straungely,  and  in  our  tender  yeres 
were  fedd  by  birdes  and  wilde  beasts,  to  whom  we  were  cast 
out  as  a  praye.  For  a  woulfe  gave  us  sucke  with  her  teates, 
and  an  hitwaw  (they  saye)  brought  us  litle  crommes,  and  put 
them  in  our  mouthes,  as  we  laye  upon  the  bancke  by  the 
river,  where  we  were  put  in  a  troughe  that  at  this  daye 
remaineth  whole,  bounde  about  with  plates  of  copper,  upon 
the  which  are  some  letters  engraven  halfe  worne  out,  which 
peradventure  one  daye  will  serve  for  some  tokens  of  know- 
ledge (unprofitable  for  our  parents)  when  it  shalbe  to  late, 
and  after  we  are  dead  and  gone.  Numitor  then  comparing 
these  wordes,  with  the  age  the  younge  man  seemed  to  be  of, 
and  considering  well  his  face :  dyd  not  reject  the  hope  of 
his  imagination  that  smiled  on  him,  but  handled  the  matter 
so,  that  he  found  meanes  to  speake  secretly  with  his  daughter, 
notwithstanding  at  that  time  she  was  kept  very  straightly. 
Faustulus  in  the  meane  time  hearing  that  Remus  was  prisoner, 
and  that  the  King  had  delivered  him  already  into  the  hands 
of  his  brother  Numitor  to  doe  justice,  went  to  praye  Romulus 
to  helpe  him,  and  tolde  him  then  whose  children  they  were : 
for  before  he  had  never  opened  it  to  them  but  in  darcke 
speaches,  and  glawnsingwise,  and  so  muche  as  sufficed  to  put 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

them  in  some  hope.  So  Faustulus  taking  the  troughe  with  ROMULUS 
him  at  that  time,  went  unto  Numitor  in  great  haste,  as 
marveilously  afFrayed  for  the  present  daunger  he  thought 
Remus  in.  The  Kings  souldiers  which  warded  at  the  gates 
of  the  cittie,  beganne  to  gather  some  suspition  of  Faustulus 
manner  of  comming  :  and  he  made  him  selfe  to  be  the  more 
suspected,  being  questioned  with  about  the  cause  of  his 
repaire  thither,  that  he  faltred  in  his  wordes :  besides,  they 
espied  his  troughe  which  he  caried  under  his  cloke.  Nowe 
amongest  the  warders,  there  was  by  chaunce  one  that  was 
the  man  to  whom  the  children  were  committed  to  be  cast 
awaye,  and  was  present  when  they  were  left  on  the  bancke 
of  the  river  to  the  mercie  of  fortune.  This  man  knewe  the 
troughe  by  and  by,  aswell  by  the  facion,  as  by  the  letters 
graven  upon  it :  who  mistrusted  straight  that  which  was 
true  in  deede.  So  he  dyd  not  neglect  the  thing,  but  went 
forthwith  to  the  King  to  tell  him  the  matter,  and  led  Faus- 
tulus with  him  to  have  him  confesse  the  trothe.  Faustulus 
being  in  this  perplexitie,  could  not  kepe  all  close  upon 
examination,  but  dyd  utter  out  somewhat  of  the  matter, 
and  yet  he  tolde  not  all.  For  he  plainely  justified  the 
children  were  alive :  yet  he  sayed  they  were  farre  from  the 
cittie  of  Alba,  where  they  kept  beastes  in  the  fields.  And 
as  for  the  troughe,  he  was  going  to  carye  it  to  Ilia,  bicause 
she  had  divers  times  prayed  him  to  let  her  see  and  feele  it : 
to  the  ende  she  might  be  the  more  assured  of  her  hope,  who 
promised  her  that  one  daye  she  should  see  her  children 
againe.  So  it  chaunced  unto  Amulius  at  that  time,  as  it  Amulius  per- 
commonly  dothe  unto  those  that  are  troubled,  and  doe  any  plexed  in  his 
thing  in  feare  or  anger,  as  a  man  amazed  thereat,  to  send  """'i®- 
one  presently  (who  in  all  other  things  was  a  very  honest  man, 
but  a  great  friende  of  his  brother  Numitors)  to  aske  him  if 
lie  had  heard  any  thing  that  his  daughters  children  were  alive. 
This  persone  being  come  to  Numitors  house,  founde  him 
ready  to  embrace  Remus,  who  fell  to  be  witnes  thereof,  and 
of  the  good  happe  discovered  unto  Numitor  :  whereupon  he 
perswaded  him  howe  to  set  upon  liis  brother,  and  to  dis- 
patche  the  matter  with  spede.  So  from  that  time  forwards, 
he  tooke  their  parte.     On  thother  side  also  the  matter  gave 

77 


/^ 


LIVES    OF  THE   NOBLE 

ROMULUS  them  no  leisure  to  deferre  their  enterprise,  although  they 
had  bene  willing :  for  the  whole  case  was  somewhat  blowen 
abroade.  So  Romulus  then  got  straight  a  power,  and  drewe 
very  neere  the  cittie,  and  many  of  the  citizens  of  Alba  went 
out  to  joyne  with  him,  who  either  feared  or  hated  Amulius. 
Nowe  Romulus  power  which  he  brought  (over  and  besides 
those  citizens)  was  a  good  number  of  fighting  men,  and  they 
were  divided  by  hundreds,  and  every  hundred  had  his  cap- 
taine  who  marched  before  his  bande,  carying  litle  bundells 
of  grasse  or  of  boughes  tyed  to  the  ende  of  their  poles.  The 
Latines  call  these  bundels  Manipulos,  whereof  it  commeth 
that  yet  at  this  daye  in  an  armie  of  the  Romaines,  the 
souldiers  which  are  all  under  one  ensigne,  are  called  Manipu- 
lares.  So  Remus  sturring  up  those  that  were  within  the 
cittie,  and  Romulus  bringing  in  men  from  without,  the 
tyranne  Amulius  fell  in  suche  feare  and  agonie,  that  with- 
out providing  any  thing  for  his  safety,  they  came  upon  him 
sodainly  in  his  palace,  and  slewe  him.  Thus  you  heare  howe 
neere  Fabius  Pictor  and  Diodes  Peparethian  doe  agree  in 
reciting  the  storie,  who  was  the  first  in  mine  opinion  that 
wrote  the  foundation  of  the  cittie  of  Rome :  howbeit  there 
are  that  thincke  they  are  all  but  fables  and  tales  devised  of 
pleasure.  But  me  thincks  for  all  that,  they  are  not  alto- 
gether to  be  rejected  or  discredited,  if  we  will  consider 
fortunes  straunge  effects  upon  times,  and  of  the  greatnes 
also  of  the  Romaine  empire :  which  had  never  atchieved  to 
her  present  possessed  power  and  authoritie,  if  the  goddes 
had  not  from  the  beginning  bene  workers  of  the  same,  and 
if  there  had  not  also  bene  some  straunge  cause,  and  won- 
derfull  foundation.  Amulius  being  nowe  slayne  as  before, 
and  after  that  all  things  were  appeased,  and  reduced  to  good 
order  againe :  Remus  and  Romulus  would  not  dwell  in  the 
cittie  of  Alba,  being  no  lordes  thereof,  nor  also  would  be 
lords  of  it,  so  long  as  their  grandfather  by  the  mothers  side 
was  alive.  Wherefore  after  they  had  restored  him  to  his 
estate,  and  had  done  the  honour  and  duety  they  ought  unto 
their  mother :  they  purposed  to  goe  and  build  a  cittie  in 
those  places  where  they  had  bene  first  brought  up,  for  this 
was  the  lionestest  culler  they  could  pretend  for  their  depart- 
78 


Manipulares 
whereof  so 
called. 


Amulius 
slayne. 


The  building 
of  Rome. 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

ing  from  Alba.     Peradventurc  they  were  enforced  so  to  doe  ROMULUS 
Avhether  they  Avould  or  not,  for  the  great  number  of  banished 
men,  and  fugitive  slaves  which  were  gathered  together  by 
them  for  their  strength,  who  had  bene  utterly  lost  and  cast 
away,  if  they  had  bene  once  discharged  by  them.     Therfore 
it  was  of  necessitie  that  they  should  dwell  by  them  selves, 
separated  in  some  place,  to  kepe  this  number  together  and 
in  some  order.     For  it  is  true  that  the  inhabitants  of  the 
cittie  of  Alba  would  not  suffer  such  banished  persones  and 
runnagates  to  be  mingled  amongest  them,  nor  would  receave 
them  into  their  cittie  to  be  free  among  them.     All  which 
appeareth    sufficiently :    first,    bicause    they   tooke    awaye 
women  by  force :  and  so  not  of  insolencie,  but  of  necessitie, 
when  they  founde  no  man  that  would  bestow  any  of  them. 
It  is  manifest  also  they  dyd  greately  honour  and  make  much 
of  the  women  they  had  taken  away  before.     Furthermore, 
when  their  cittie  beganne  a  litle  to  be  setled,  they  made  a 
temple  of  refuge  for   all  fugitives   and  afflicted   persones, 
which  they  called  the  temple  of  the  god  Asylaeus.     Where  Asylieus 
there  was  sanctuarie  and  safety  for  all  sortes  of  people  that  temple,  a 
repaired  thither,  and  could  get  into  the  temple,  for  whom  it  sanctuarie  for 
was  alledged  they  could  not  deliver  any  bonde  man  to  his  persones  aud 
master,  nor  detter  to   his  creditor,  nor  murtherer  to  the  fugitives, 
justice  that  was  fled  thither  for  succor,  bicause  the  oracle  of 
Apollo  the  Delphian  had  expressely  enjo3med  them  to  graunte 
sanctuary  to  all  those  that  would  come  thither  for  it.     So 
by  this  meanes  in  shorte  space  their  cittie  florished,  and  was 
repleanished,  where  at  the  first  foundation  of  it,  they  saye 
there  was  not  above  one  thousand  houses,  as  more  at  large 
hereafter  shalbe  declared.     When  they  came  nowe  to  the 
building  of  their  cittie,  Romulus  and  Remus  the  two  brethern 
fell  sodainely  at  a  strife  together  about  the  place  where  the 
cittie  should  be  builded.     For  Romulus  built  Rome,  which  Strife  betwixt 
is  called  foure  square,  and  would  needes  it  should  remaine  Romulus  aud 
in  the  place  which  he  had  chosen.     Remus  his  brother  chose  R^"^"^- 
another  place  very  strong  of  situation,  upon  mounte  Aventine, 
which  was  called  after  his  name  Remonium,  and  nowe  is  Remonium. 
called  Rignarium.    Notwithstanding,  in  the  ende  they  agreed  Riguarium. 
betwene  them  selves  this  controversie  should  be  decided,  by 

79 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

ROMULUS  the  flying  of  birds,  which  doe  geve  a  happy  divination  of 
things  to  come.  So  being  sett  in  divers  places  by  them  selves 
to  make  observation,  some  saye  that  there  appeared  unto 
Remus  sixe,  and  to  Romulus  twelve  vulters.  Other  saye 
that  Remus  truely  sawe  sixe,  and  Romulus  feigned  from  the 
beginning  that  he  sawe  twise  as  many :  but  when  Remus 
came  to  him,  then  there  appeared  twelve  in  deede  unto 
Romulus,  and  this  is  the  cause  why  the  Romaines  at  this 
daye  in  their  divinations  and  soothesayings  of  the  flying  of 
The  Romaiiis  birds,  doe  marvelously  observe  the  flying  of  the  vulters.  It 
observe  the  j^  true  which  the  historiographer  Herodorus  Ponticus  writeth : 
flying  of  vul-  ^Y^Q^  Hercules  rejoyced  much  when  there  appeared  a  vulter 
to  him,  being  readie  to  beginne  any  enterprise.  For  it  is 
the  foule  of  the  worlde  that  dothe  least  hurte,  and  never 
marreth  nor  destroyeth  any  thing  that  man  dothe  sowe, 
plante,  or  set :  considering  that  she  feedeth  on  carion  only, 
and  dothe  never  hurte  nor  kill  any  living  thing.  Also  she 
dothe  not  praye  upon  dead  fowle,  for  the  likenes  that  is 
betwene  them  :  where  the  eagles,  the  dukes  and  the  sakers 
doe  murther,  kill,  and  eate  those  which  are  of  their  owne 
kynde.     And  yet  as  iEschylus  sayeth, 

Needes  must  that  fowle  accompted  be  most  vile, 
most  ravening,  and  full  of  filthie  miude. 

Which  doth  him  self,  continually  defile, 
by  praying  still  upon  his  propre  kinde. 

Moreover,  other  birdes  are  allwayes  (as  a  man  would  saye) 
before  our  eyes,  and  doe  daylie  shewe  them  selves  unto  us  : 
where  the  vulter  is  a  very  rare  byrde,  and  hardely  to  be 
scene,  and  men  doe  not  easely  finde  their  ayeries.  Which 
hathe  geven  some  occasion  to  holde  a  false  opinion,  that  the 
vulters  are  passagers,  and  come  into  these  partes  out  of 
straunge  countryes.  The  prognosticators  also  thincke,  that 
suche  things  which  are  not  ordinarie,  and  but  seldome  seene, 
be  not  naturall,  but  miraculously  sent  by  the  goddes  to 
prognosticate  something.  When  Remus  knewe  howe  his 
brother  had  mocked  him,  he  was  very  angry  with  him.  And 
when  Romulus  had  cast  a  dytche,  as  it  were  for  the  wall 
about  his  cittie,  Remus  dyd  not  only  scome  it,  but  hindered 
also  his  worke,  and  in  the  ende  for  a  mockerie  lept  over  his 

80 


^ 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

wall.     To  conclude,  he  dyd  so  much,  that  at  the  last  he  was  ROMULUS 
slayne  there  by  Romulus  o^vne  handes  as  some  saye  :  or  as  Remus  slayne 
other  holde  opinion,  by  the  handes  of  one  of  his  men  which  by  Romulus 
was  called  Celer.     In  this  fight  they  slewe  Faustulus,  and  "^    ^  ^^' 
Plistinus  also  his  brother,  who  had  holpen  him  to  bring  up 
Romulus.    Howsoever  the  matter  fell  out,  this  Celer  absented 
him  selfe  from  Rome,  and  went  into  the  countrye  of  Thus- 
cane.    And  they  saye,  that  men  which  are  quicke,  and  readye  Celeres  wher- 
upon  a  sodaine,  tooke  their  names  ever  after  upon  him,  and  ^^^^  ^"  called, 
were  called  Celeres.     As  amongest  other,  Quintus  Metellus,  Q.  Metellus 
after  the  death  of  his  father,  having  in  very  fewe  dayes  made  *^^^^''- 
the  people  of  Rome  to  see  a  combate  of  fensers  (called  Gladia- 
tores)  fighting  at  the  sharpe,  they  surnamed  him  Celer,  for 
that   the  Romaines  marvelled  howe  he  could  prepare  his 
things  in  so  shorte  a  time.    Furthermore,  Romulus  having 
nowe  buried   his  brother,  and  his  other  two   bringers  up 
(called  foster  fathers)  in  the  place  they  call  Remonia :  beganne 
then  to  buyld  and  laye  the  foundation  of  his  cittie,  sending  Romulus 
for  men  out  of  Thuscane,  who  dyd  name  and  teache  him  layeth  the 
particularly  all  the  ceremonies  he   had   to   observe   there,  foundation 
according  to  their  lawes  and   ordinances  as  a  great   holy 
mysterie.     And  first  of  all  they  made  a  rounde  dytche  in  the 
place  called  at  this  day  Comitium,  into  which  they  dyd  cast 
their  chiefest  and  best  things,  which  men  use  lawfully  for 
good,  and  naturally  as  most  necessarie.     After  that  they  dyd 
throwe  also  into  it,  a  litle  of  the  earthe,  from  whence  every 
man  came,  and  mingled  these  all  together.     This  dytche  in 
their  ceremonies  is  called  the  worlde,  in  Latine  Mundus,  Tlie  world, 
even  the  selfe  same  name  the  Latines  call  the  Universal]. 
About  this  dytche  they  dyd  trace  the  compasse  of  the  cittie 
they  woulde  buylde,  even  as  one  would  drawe  a  circle  about 
a  center.     This  done,  the  founder  of  the  cittie  taketh   a 
plough,  to  which  he  fastened  a  culter  or  ploughe  share  of 
brasse,  and  so  yoked  in  the  ploughe  an  oxe  and  a  cowe,  he 
him  selfe  holding  the  ploughe  dyd  make  rounde  about  the 
compasse  of  the  cittie  a  deepe  furrowe.     Those  which  fol- 
lowed him,  had  the  charge  to  throwe  the  turves  of  earthe 
inward  into  the  cittie,  which  the  ploughe  share  raised  up, 
and  r.ot  to  leave  any  of  them  turned  outward.     The  furrowe 
L  '  81 


ROMULUS 

PomcErium 
why  so  called. 


The  walles 
holye. 


The  feast  day 
of  Romes 
foundation 
the21.Aprill. 


The  feast 
Palilia. 


An  eclypse  of 
the  moone  at 
the  laying  of 
the  founda- 
tion of  Rome. 

Varro  a  philo- 
sopher. 

Tarutius  a 
mathemati- 
cian. 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

thus  cast  up  was  the  whole  compasse  of  their  walle,  which 
they  call  in  Latine  Pomcerium,  by  shortning  of  the  syllables, 
for  post  muriim  :  to  wit,  'after  wall."*  But  in  the  place  where 
they  determined  to  make  a  gate,  they  dyd  take  of  the 
ploughe  share,  and  drawe  the  ploughe,  with  leaving  a  certain 
space  of  earthe  unbroken  up :  whereupon  the  Romaines  thincke 
all  the  compasse  of  their  walles  holy  and  sacred,  except  their 
gates.  For  if  their  gates  had  bene  hallowed  and  sanctified, 
they  would  have  had  a  conscience  through  them  ^o  have 
brought  in,  or  caried  out  of  the  cittie,  any  things  necessarie 
for  the  life  of  man,  that  had  not  bene  pure  and  cleane.  Nowe 
they  beleeve  certainely,  that  this  ceremonie  of  the  founda- 
tion of  their  cittie  was  made  the  one  and  twentie  of  Aprill : 
bicause  the  Romaines  doe  yet  keepe  that  daye  holy  daye, 
and  call  it  the  feast  of  the  nativitie  of  their  countrye.  On 
which  daye  they  dyd  not  in  olde  time  sacrifice  any  thing 
that  had  life,  as  esteeming  that  daye  (which  was  the  nativitie 
of  their  cittie)  to  be  most  mete  to  be  kept  cleane  and  pure 
from  being  polluted  or  defiled  with  any  bloude.  Notwith- 
standing before  Rome  was  buylded,  they  had  another  feast 
called  the  sheapeheards  or  heardmens  holy  daye,  which  they 
dyd  celebrate  upon  the  same  daye,  and  called  it  Palilia. 
Nowe  at  this  daye  the  beginnings  of  the  moneths  with  the 
Romaines  is  cleane  contrarie  to  the  Grecians :  yet  for  all 
this,  they  holde  opinion  for  certaintie  that  the  daye  on 
which  Romulus  founded  his  cittie,  was  assuredly  that  which 
the  Grecians  call  Triacada :  that  is  to  saye,  the  thirtie  daye. 
On  which  there  was  seene  an  eclypse  of  the  moone,  which 
they  suppose  was  observed  by  the  Poet  Antimachus  (borne 
in  the  cittie  of  Teos)  in  the  thirtenth  yere  of  the  sixt  Olym- 
piade.  Likewise  in  the  time  of  Marcus  Varro  (as  a  man 
learned,  and  one  that  had  redde  as  much  of  auncient  stories 
as  any  Romaine)  there  was  a  friend  of  his  called  Tarutius,  a 
great  philosopher  and  mathematician.  Who  being  geven  to 
the  calculation  of  astronomic  for  the  delight  of  speculation 
only,  wherein  he  was  thought  most  excellent :  it  dyd  fall  out 
that  Varro  gave  him  this  question,  to  searche  out  what  hower 
and  daye  the  nativitie  of  Romulus  was,  who  gathered  it  out 
by  certaine  accidents,  as  they  doe  in  the  resolutions  of  cer- 
8^ 


^ 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

taine  geometricall  questions.      For  they  saye,   that  by  the  ROMULUS 

selfe  same  science,  one  maye  tell  before  of  things  to  come, 

and  to  happen  to  a  man  in  his  life,  knowing  certainely  the 

hower  of  his  nativitie :    and  howe  one  maye  tell  also  the  The  hower  of 

hower  of  his  nativitie,  when  by  accidents  they  knowe  what  a  mans  nati- 

hath  happened  to  him  all  his  life.     Tarutius  dyd  the  ques-  ^^*^®  ["f^f  Y^ 

tion  that  Varro  gave  him.      And  having  throughely  con-  hisTccidents^ 

sidered  the  adventures,  dedes,  and  gestes  of  Romulus,  howe 

long  he  lived,  and  howe  he  dyed :  all  which  being  gathered 

and  conferred  together,  he  dyd  boldly  judge  for  a  certaintie, 

that  he  was  conceyved  in  his  mothers  wombe,  in  the  first  Romulus 

yere  of  the  seconde  Olympiade,  the  three  and  twentie  daye  nativitie  cal- 

of  the  moneth  which  the  ^Egyptians  call.Ghaeac,  and  now  is  Jj^^^*^.     ^ 

called  December,  about  three  of  the  clocke  in  the  morning, 

in  which  hower  there  was  a  whole  eclypse  of  the  sunne :  An  eclypse  of 

And  that  he  was  borne  into  the  worlde,  the  one  and  twenteth  the  sunne 

of  the  moneth  of  Thoth,  which  is  the  moneth  of  September,  ^'^^^  Romu- 

about  the  rising  of  the  sunne.     And  that  Rome  was  begonne  ggjygjj  j^  ^jg 

by  him  on  the  ninth  daye  of  the  moneth  which  the  ^gyp-  mothers 

tians  call  Pharmuthi,  and  aunswereth  now  to  the  moneth  of  wombe. 

Aprill,  betweene  two  and  three  of  the  clocke  in  the  morning. 

For  they  will  saye  that  a  cittie  hathe  his  revolution  and  his 

time  of  continuaunce  appointed,  as  well  as  the  life  of  a  man  : 

and  that  they  knewe  by  the  situation  of  the  starres,  the 

daye  of  her  beginning  and  foundation.     These  things  and 

suche  other  like,  peradventure  will  please  the  readers  better, 

for  their  straungenes  and  curiositie,  then  offend  or  mislike 

them  for  their  falsehood.     No  we  after  he  had  founded  his 

cittie,  he  first  and  foremost  dyd  divide  in  two  companies,  all  The  Romaine 

those  that  were  of  age  to  carie  armour.     In  every  one  of  legion. 

these  companies  there  were  three  thousand  footemen,  and  3000  foote- 

three  hundred   horsemen :    and   they  were  called    Legions,  "i^"- 

bicause  they  were  sorted  of  the  chosen  men  that  were  pvckt         horse- 

•  111611 

out  amongest  all  the  rest  for  to  fight.     The  remaine  after 
these  was  called  Populus,  which  signifieth  the  people.     After 
this,  he  made  a  hundred  counsellers  of  the  best  and  honestest  Romulus 
men  of  the  cittie,  which  he  called  Patricians :  and  the  whole  instituteth 
company  of  them  together  he  called  Senatus,  as  one  would  »  cornmon 
saye.  the  counsell  of  the  auncients.     So  they  were  called 

83 


ROMULUS 

What  the 
Patricians  and 
Senate  were. 


Patres 
Conscripti. 


Patroni. 
Clieutes. 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

Patricians,  as  some  will  saye,  the  coimsaill  of  the  fathers 
lawfull  children,  which  fewe  of  the  first  inhabitants  could 
shewe.  It  maye  be,  some  will  saye  this  name  was  geven 
them  of  Patrocinium,  as  growing  of  the  protection  they  had 
by  the  sanctuarie  of  their  cittie,  which  worde  they  use  at 
this  daye  in  the  selfe  same  signification  :  as  one  that  followed 
Evander  into  Italic,  was  called  Patron,  bicause  he  was  pitie- 
full,  and  relieved  the  poore  and  litle  children,  and  so  got  him 
selfe  a  name  for  his  pitie  and  humanitie.  But  me  thinckes 
it  were  more  like  the  trothe  to  saye,  that  Romulus  dyd  call 
them  so,  bicause  he  thought  the  chiefest  men  should  have  a 
fatherly  care  of  the  meaner  sorte  :  considering  also  it  was  to 
teache  the  meaner  sorte  that  they  should  not  fear  th'  autho- 
ritie  of  the  greater,  nor  envie  at  their  honours  they  had,  but 
rather  in  all  their  causes  should  use  their  favour  and  good 
will,  by  taking  them  as  their  fathers.  For  even  at  this 
present,  straungers  call  those  of  the  Senate,  lordes  or  cap- 
taines :  but  the  naturall  Romaines  call  them,  Patres  Con- 
scripti, which  is  a  name  of  fatherhed  and  dignitie  without 
envie.  It  is  true  that  at  the  beginning  they  were  only 
called  Patres,  but  sithence,  bicause  they  were  many  joyned 
unto  the  first,  they  have  bene  named  Patres  Conscripti,  as  a 
man  should  saye,  fathers  of  recorde  together :  which  is  the 
honorablest  name  he  could  have  devised  to  make  a  difference 
betwext  the  Senatours,  and  the  people.  Furthermore,  he 
made  a  difference  betweene  the  chiefer  cittizens,  and  the  baser 
people,  by  calling  the  better  sorte  Patroni,  as  muche  to  saye, 
as  defenders :  and  the  meaner  sorte  Clientes,  as  you  would 
saye,  followers,  or  men  protected.  This  dyd  breede  a  mar- 
vellous great  love  and  good  will  among  them,  making  the 
one  much  beholding  to  the  other,  by  many  mutuall  curtesies 
and  pleasures  :  for  the  Patrons  dyd  helpe  the  clients  to  their 
right,  defended  their  causes  in  judgement,  dyd  geve  unto 
them  counsaill,  and  dyd  take  all  their  matters  in  hande. 
The  clients  againe  enterchaungeably  humbled  them  selves  to 
their  patrons,  not  onely  in  outwarde  honour  and  reverence 
towardes  them,  but  otherwise  dyd  helpe  them  with  money 
to  marrie  and  advaunce  their  daughters,  or  els  to  paye  their 
dettes  and  credit,  if  they  were  poore  or  decayed.  There  was 
84 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

no  lawe  nor  magistrate  that  could  compell  the  patron  to  be  ROMULUS 
a  witnes  against  his  client :   nor  yet  the  client  to  witnesse 
against  his  patron.     So  they  increased,  and  continued,  all 
other  rights  and  offices  of  amitie  and  friendshippe  together, 
saving  afterwards  they  thought  it  a  great  shame  and  reproache  The  shame  of 
for  the  better,  and  richer,  to  take  rewarde  of  the  meaner  and  the  Romaines 
poorer.     And  thus  of  this  matter  we  have  spoken  sufficiently.  *"  "^^^  S'  *^^ 
Moreover,  foure  moneths  after  the  foundation  of  the  cittie 
was  layed,  Fabius  writeth,  there  was  a  great  ravishement  of 
women.     There  are  some  which  laye  it  upon  Romulus,  who 
being  then  of  nature  warlike,  and  geven  to  prophecies  and 
aunswers  of  the   goddes,  foretolde   that   his   cittie   should 
become  very  great  and  mightie,  so  as  he  raysed  it  by  warres, 
and  increased  it  by  armes :  and  he  sought  out  this  culler 
to  doe  mischief,  and  to  make  warre  upon  the  Sabynes.     To 
prove  this  true,  some  saye  he  caused  certaine  of  their  maydes  The  ravishe- 
by  force  to  be  taken  awaye,  but  not  past  thirtie  in  number,  ment  of  the 
as  one  that  rather  sought  cause  of  warres,  then  dyd  it  for  Sabynes 
neede  of  mariages :  which  me  thinckes  was  not  likely  to  be  ^^'"^°- 
true,  but  rather  I  judge  the  contrarie.     For  seeing  his  cittie 
was  incontinently  repleanished   with    people  of  all   sortes, 
whereof  there  were  very  fewe  that  had  wives,  and  that  they 
were  men  gathered  out  of  all  countryes,  and  the  most  parte 
of  them  poore  and  needye,  so  as  their  neighbours  disdayned 
them  much,  and  dyd    not   looke  they  would   longe  dwell 
together  :  Romulus  hoping  by  this  violent  taking  of  their 
maydes  and  ravishing  them,  to  have  an  entrie  into  alliance 
with  the  Sabynes,  and  to  entise  them  further  to  joyne  with 
them  in  mariage,  if  they  dyd  gentely  intreate  these  wives  Romulus 
they  had  gotten,  enterprised  this  violent  taking  of  their  crafte  a,bout 
maydes,  and  ravishing  of  them  in  suche  a  sorte.     First  he  *^®  t^^f^th 
made  it  to  be  commonly  bruited  abroade  in  every  place,  that  Sabvnes 
he  had  founde  the  altar  of  a  god  hidden  in  the  grounde,  and  daughters. 
he  called  the  name  of  the  god,  Consus :  either  bicause  he  Census  a  god. 
was  a  god  of  counsaill,  wherupon  the  Romaines  at  this  daye 
in  their  tongue  call  Consilium,  which  we  call  counsell :  and 
the  chief  magistrates  of  their  cittie  Consules,  as  we  saye  Neptuue  the 
counsellers.     Other  saye  it  was  the  altar  of  the  god  Neptune,  god  of  horse- 
surnamed  the  patron  of  horses.     For  this  altar  is  yet  at  this  "^^"• 

85 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

ROMULUS  daye  within  the  great  listes  of  the  cittic,  and  ever  covered 
and  hidden,  but  when  they  use  the  running  games  of  their 
horse  race.  Other  saye  bicause  counsell  ever  must  be  kept 
close  and  secret,  they  had  good  reason  to  kepe  the  altar  of 
this  god  Consus  hidden  in  the  grounde.  Nowe  other  write 
when  it  was  opened,  Romulus  made  a  sacrifice  of  wonderfull 
joye,  and  afterwardes  proclaymed  it  openly  in  divers  places, 
that  at  suche  a  daye  there  should  be  common  playes  in  Rome, 
and  a  solemne  feast  kept  of  the  god  Consus,  where  all  that 
were  disposed  to  come  should  be  welcome.  Great  numbers 
of  people  repaired  thither  from  all  partes.  He  him  selfe 
was  set  in  the  chiefest  seate  of  the  showe  place,  apparelled 
fayer  in  purple,  and  accompanied  with  the  chiefe  of  his 
cittie  about  him.  And  there  having  purposed  this  ravishe- 
ment  you  have  heard  of,  he  had  geven  the  signe  before :  that 
the  same  should  beginne,  when  he  should  rise  up  and  folde  a 
playte  of  his  gowne,  and  unfolde  the  same  againe.  Hereupon 
his  men  stoode  attending  with  their  swordes :  who  so  sone  as 
they  perceyved  the  signe  was  geven,  with  their  swordes  drawen 
The  execution  in  hande,  and  with  great  showtes  and  cryes  ranne  violently 
of  the  ravish-  on  the  maydes  and  daughters  of  the  Sabynes  to  take  them 
ment.  awaye  and  ravishe  them,  and  suffered   the  men  to  ronne 

awaye,  without  doing  them  any  hurte  or  violence.  So 
The  number  some  saye,  there  were  but  thirtie  ravished,  after  whose 
of  the  Sabyne  names  were  called  the  thirtie  linages  of  the  people  of  Rome, 
^^'^t"  Howbeit  Valerius  Antias    writeth,    that    there    were    five 

raA  IS  e  .  hundred  and  seven   and  twentie  :    and  luba,  sixe  hundred 

foure  score  and  three.    In  the  which  is  singularly  to  be  noted 
for  the  commendation  of  Romulus,  that  he  him  selfe  dyd 
Hersilia  take  then  but  onely  one  of  the  maydes,  named  Hersilia  : 

llomuluswife.  that  afterwardes  was  the  only  cause  and  mediation  of  peace 
betwext  the  Sabynes  and  the  Romaines.  Which  argueth 
plainely,  that  it  was  not  to  doe  the  Sabynes  any  hurte,  nor 
to  satisfie  any  disordinate  lust,  that  they  had  so  forcibly 
undertaken  this  ravishement :  but  to  joyne  two  peoples  to- 
gether, with  the  straightest  bondes  that  could  be  betweene 
men.  This  Hersilia  as  some  saye,  was  maried  unto  one 
Hostilius,  the  noblest  man  at  that  time  amongest  the 
Romaines  :  or  as  others  write,  unto  Romulus  him  selfe, 
86 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

which  had  two  children  by  her.     The  first  was  a  daughter,  ROMULUS 
and  her  name  was  Prima,  bicause  she  was  the  first :  the  other  Romulus  first 
was  a  Sonne,  whom  he  named  Aollius,  bicause  of  the  multitude  daughter 
of  people  he  had  assembled  together  in  his  cittie,  and  after-  ^^J^^'^  Prima, 
wardes  he  was  surnamed   Abillius.      Thus   Zenodotus  the  ^i^^^a^u-*^^ 
Trcezenian  writeth,  wherein  notwithstanding  there  be  divers 
that  doe  contrarie  him.     Among  those  which  ravished  then  Abillius. 
the  daughters  of  the  Sabynes,  it  is  sayed  there  were  founde 
certaine  meane  men  carying  away  a  marvellous  passing  fayer 
one.     These  met  by  chaunce  on  the  waye,  certaine  of  the 
chief  of  the  cittie,  who  would  have  taken  her  by  force  from 
them,  which  they  had  done,  but  that  they  beganne  to  crye 
they  caried   her  unto  Talassius,  who  was   a   younge  man 
marvellously  Avell  beloved  of  every  bodye.     Which  when  the 
others   understoode,  they  were   exceeding   glad,   and   they 
commended  them  :    in  so  much  as  there  were  some  which 
sodainely  turned  backe  againe,  and  dyd  accompanie  them  for 
Talassius  sake,  crying  out  a  lowde,  and  often  on  his  name. 
From  whence  the   custome  came,  which  to  this  daye  the 
Romaines  synge  at  their  manages,  Talassius,  like  as  the  Thecausewhy 
Grecians  synge  Hymeneus.     For  it  is  sayed  he  was  compted  *'^^  Romaines 
very  happie  that  he  met  with  this  woman.      But  Sextius    ^^  synge    le 
Sylla   a  Carthaginian   borne,   a   man  very  wise,   and   well  Talassius  in 
learned,  tolde  me  once  it  was  the  crye  and  signe  which  mariages. 
Romulus  gave  to  his   men,   to   beginne  the   ravishement : 
whereupon  those  which  caried  them  awaye,  went  crying  this 
worde  Talassius,  and  that  from  thence  the  custome  hathe  con- 
tinued, that  they  singe  it  yet  at  their  mariages.     Neverthe- 
les  the  most  parte  of  authors,   specially  luba,  thinckes  it 
is  a  warning  to  remember  the  newe  maried  women  of  their 
worke,  which  is  to  spinne,  which  the  Grecians  call  Talassia,  Talassia. 
the  Italian  words  at  that  time  being  not  mingled  with  the 
Greeke.     And  if  it  be  true  the  Romaines  used  this  terme  of 
Talassia,  as  we  of  Grece  doe  use  :  we  might  by  conjecture 
yeld  another  reason  for  it,  which  should  carie  a  better  likely- 
hoode  and  proofe.     For  when  the  Sabynes  after  the  battell 
had  made  peace  with  the  Romaines,  they  put  in  an  article 
in  favour  of  the  women  in  the  treatie,  that  they  should  not 
be  boundo  to  serve  their  husbands  in  any  other  worke,  but  in 

87 


ROMULUS 

Matrimoniall 
ceremonie  at 
Rome. 


Sextilis, 
August. 

Plutar.  in  his 
proble.  Con- 
sualia. 

The  Sabynes 
what  they 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

spinning  of  wolle.  Ever  since  this  custome  hathe  growen, 
that  those  which  geve  their  daughters  in  mariage,  and  those 
who  leade  the  bryde,  and  such  as  are  present  at  the  wedding, 
speake  in  sporte  to  the  newe  maried  wife,  laughing,  Talassius : 
in  token  that  they  doe  not  leade  the  bryde  for  any  other 
worke  or  service,  but  to  spinne  wolle.  Thereof  this  hathe 
bene  the  use  to  this  daye,  that  the  bryde  dothe  not  of  her 
selfe  come  over  the  threshold  of  her  husbands  dore,  but  she 
is  hoysed  pretely  into  the  house  :  bicause  the  Sabyne  women 
at  that  time  were  so  lift  up,  and  caried  away  by  force.  They 
saye  also,  that  the  manner  of  making  the  shed  of  the  new 
wedded  wives  heare,  with  the  Iron  head  of  a  Javeling,  came 
up  then  likewise  :  this  storie  being  a  manifest  token  that 
these  first  mariages  were  made  by  force  of  armes,  and  as  it 
were  at  the  swords  poynte  :  as  we  have  written  more  at  large 
in  the  booke,  wherein  we  render  and  showe  the  causes  of  the 
Romaines  facions  and  customes.  This  ravishement  was  put 
in  execution  about  the  eightenth  daye  of  the  moneth  then 
called  Sextilis,  and  nowe  named  August :  on  which  daye 
they  yet  celebrate  the  feast  they  call  Consalia.  Nowe  the 
Sabynes  were  good  men  of  warre,  and  had  great  numbers  of 
people,  but  they  dwelt  in  villages,  and  not  within  inclosed 
walles  :  being  a  thing  fit  for  their  noble  courages  that 
dyd  feare  nothing,  and  as  those  who  were  descended  from 
the  Lacedaemonians.  Nevertheles,  they  seeing  them  selves 
bound  and  tyed  to  peace  by  pledges  and  hostages,  that 
were  very  neere  allyed  unto  them,  and  fearing  their  daughters 
should  be  ill  intreated :  sent  ambassadours  to  Romulus,  by 
whom  they  made  reasonable  offers  and  persuasions,  that  their 
daughters  might  be  delivered  unto  them  againe,  without  any 
force  or  violence,  and  then  afterwardes,  that  he  would  cause 
them  to  be  asked  in  mariage  of  their  parents,  as  bothe 
reason  and  lawe  would  require.  To  thend  that  with  good 
will  and  consent  of  all  parties,  both  peoples  might  contract 
amitie  and  alliance  together.  Whereunto  Romulus  made 
aunswer,  he  could  not  restore  the  maydes  which  his  people 
had  taken  awaye  and  maried  :  but  most  friendly  he  prayed 
the  Sabynes  to  be  contented  with  their  alliance.  This 
aunswer  being  returned,  and  not  liked,  whilest  the  princes 
88 


9 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

and  communaltie  of  the  Sabynes  were  occupied  in  consulta-  ROMULUS 
tion,  and  about  the  arming  of  them  selves  :  Acron  king  of  Acron  king  of 
the  Ceninenses  (a  man  exceeding  couragious  and  skilful!  in  the  Cenin- 
the  warres,  and  one  that  from  the  beginning  mistrusted  the  ^'^ses  maketh 
over  bolde  and  stowte  enterprises  that  Romulus  was  likely  Romulus 
to  attempt,  considering  the  late  ravishment  of  the  Sabynes 
daughters,  and  howe  he  was  alreadye  greatly  dreaded  of  his 
neighbours,  and  somwhat  untolerable,  if  he  were  not  chas- 
ticed  and  brought  lower)  first  beganne  to  invade  him  with 
a  puissant  armie,  and  to  make  hotte  and   violent  warres 
upon  him.     Romulus  on  th'  other  side  prepared  also,  and 
went  forth  to  meete  him.     When  they  were  come  so  neere 
together  that  they  might  see  one  another,  they  sent  defiance 
to  cache  other,  and  prayed  that  they  two  might  fight  man 
to  man  amiddest  their  armies,  and  neither  of  theirs  to  sturre 
a  foote.    Bothe  of  them  accepted  of  it,  and  Romulus  making 
his  prayer  unto  lupiter,  dyd  promise,  and  made  a  vowe : 
that  if  he  dyd  geve  him  the  victorie  to  overcome,  he  would 
offer  up  to  him  the  armour  of  his  enemie,  which  he  dyd. 
For  first  he  slew  Acron  in  the  field,  and  afterwards  gave  Acron  slaine 
battell  to  his  men,  and  overthrew  them  also.     Lastely  he  in  the  field, 
tooke  his  cittie,  where  he  did  no  hurte  nor  yet  displeasure 
to  any,  saving  that  he  dyd  commaunde  them  to  pull  downe 
their  houses,  and  destroy  them,  and  to  goe  dwell  with  him  at 
Rome  :  where  they  should  have  the  selfe  same  rightes  and 
priviledges  which  the  first  inhabitants  did  enjoy e.     There 
was  nothing  more  enlarged  the  cittie  of  Rome,  then  this 
manner  of  pollicie,  to  joyne  all  way  es  mito  it  those  she  had 
overcome  and  vancquished.     Romulus  now  to  discharge  his 
vowe,  and  in  suche  sorte  that  his  offering  might  be  acceptable 
to  lupiter,  and  pleasaunt  to  his  cittizens  to  beholde  :  did  cut 
downe  a  goodly  straight  growen  young  oke,  which  he  lighted 
on  by  good  fortune,  in  the  place  where  his  campe  did  lye. 
The  same  he  trimmed  and  dyd  set  forth  after  the  manner  of 
victorie,  hanging  and  tying  all  about  it  in  fayer  order,  the 
armour  and  weapons  of  king  Acron.     Then  he  girding  his 
gowne  to  him,  and  putting  upon  his  long  bushe  of  heare,  a  gar-  Romulus 
land  of  lawrell,  layed  the  young  oke  upon  his  right  shoulder,  triumphe. 
and  he  first  marched  before  towards  his  cittie,  and  songe  a 
M  89 


ROMULUS 

Thebeginning 
of  triumphe. 


lupiter 
Feretrius. 


Spolia  opima. 


Three  Ro- 

maines  onely 
obteined 
spolia  opima. 


Tarquinius 
Priscus  the 
first  that 
triumphed  in 
charet. 

Valerius 
Publicola. 

The  citties  of 
Fidena,  Crus- 
tumerium, 
and  of  An- 
temna  rose 
all  against 
Romulus. 


LIVES    OF    THE    NOBLE 

royall  songe  of  victorie,  all  his  armie  following  him  in  armes 
unto  the  cittie  in  order  of  battell :  where  his  cittizens  receyved 
him  in  all  passing  wise  and  triumphe.  This  noble  and  stately 
entrie  ever  since  hath  geven  them  minds  in  such  sorte,  and 
in  statelier  wise  to  make  their  triumphe.  The  offering  of 
this  triumphe  was  dedicated  to  lupiter  surnamed  Feretrian : 
bicause  the  Latine  worde  Ferire,  signifieth  to  hurt  and  kill : 
and  the  prayer  Romulus  had  made,  was,  he  might  hurt  and 
kill  his  enemie.  Such  spoyles  are  called  in  Latine,  Spolia 
opima :  therefore  sayeth  Varro,  that  opes  signifie  riches. 
Howbeit  me  thinckes  it  were  more  likely  to  saye,  that  they 
were  so  named  of  this  worde  Opus,  which  betokeneth  a  dede, 
bicause  he  must  needes  be  the  chief  of  the  armie,  that  hath 
slayne  with  his  owne  hands  the  generall  of  his  enemies,  and 
that  must  offer  the  spoyles  called  Spolia  opima,  as  you  would 
saye,  his  principal  spoyles  and  dedes.  This  never  happened 
yet  but  to  three  Romaine  captaines  onely  :  of  the  which 
Romulus  was  the  first,  who  slew  Acron,  king  of  the  Cenin- 
enses.  Cornelius  Cossus  was  the  second,  who  killed  Tolum- 
nius,  the  generall  of  the  Thuscans.  Clodius  Marcellus  was 
the  thirde,  who  slewe  Britomartus,  king  of  the  Gaules,  with 
his  owne  hands.  And  for  the  two  last,  Cossus  and  Marcellus, 
they  made  their  entrie  into  the  cittie,  carying  their  triumphes 
upon  charets  triumphant :  but  Romulus  did  not  so.  There- 
fore in  this  poynt  Dionysius  the  historiographer  hath  erred, 
writing  that  Romulus  dyd  enter  into  Rome  upon  a  charret 
triumphant.  For  it  was  Tarquinius  Priscus  the  sonne  of 
Demaratus,  who  first  dyd  set  out  triumphes  in  so  stately  and 
magnificent  showe.  Other  holde  opinion  it  was  Valerius 
Publicola,  who  was  the  first  that  ever  entred  upon 
triumphant  charret.  Concerning  Romulus,  his  statues  are 
yet  to  be  scene  in  Rome,  carying  his  triumphe  a  foote. 
After  this  overthrowe  and  taking  of  the  Ceninenses,  the 
inhabitants  of  the  citties  of  Fidena,  Crustumerium,  and 
Antemna,  rose  alltogether  against  the  Romaines,  whiles  the 
other  Sabynes  also  were  a  preparing  them  selves.  So  they 
fought  a  battell,  in  which  they  tooke  the  overthrowe  :  and 
left  their  citties  to  the  spoyle  of  Romulus,  their  lands  to  be 
geven  where  he  thought  good,  and  them  selves  to  be  caried 
90 


« 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

to  Rome.     Romulus  then  dyd  geve  their  lands  among  his  ROMULUS 
cittizens,  except  those  lands  which  did  belong  to  the  fathers 
of  the  maydens  that  they  had  taken  away  and  ravished. 
For  he  was  contented  that  the  fathers  of  them  should  kepe 
still  their  lands.     By  and  by  the  other  Sabynes  stomaking 
thereat,  did  chuse  them  a  generall  called  Tatius,  and  so 
went  with  a  puysant  army  toward  the  cittie  of  Rome,  where-  The  Sabynes 
unto  to  approche  at  that  time  it  was  very  harde,  the  castell  ^^d  by  Tatius, 
or  keepe  of  their  cittie  being  seated,  where  at  this  day  the  ^pffethedttie 
Capitoll  standeth,  within  which  there  was  a  great  garrison,  ^f  Rome, 
whereof  Tarpeius  was  captaine,  and  not  his  daughter  Tarpeia, 
as  some  will  saye,  who  set  out  Romulus  as  a  foole.     But 
Tarpeia  the  captaines  daughter,  for  the  desire  she  had  to 
have  all  the  golde  bracelets  which  they  dyd  weare  about 
their  armes,  solde  the  forte  to  the  Sabynes,  and  asked  for  Tarpeia  be- 
reward  of  her  treason,  all  they  did  weare  on  their  left  armes.  trayeth  the 
Tatius  promised  them  unto  her :  and  she  opened  them  a  gate  fetteth  in^the 
in  the  night,  by  the  which  she  did  let  all  the  Sabynes  into  Sabynes. 
the  castell.     Antigonus  then  was  not  alone,  who  sayed,  he  Antieronus 
loved  those  which  did  betraye,  and  hated  them  that  had  and  Augustus 
betrayed  :  nor  yet  Caesar  Augustus,  who  told  Rymitalces  the  Caesars  words 
Thracian,  that   he  loved    treason,   but  he   hated  traytors.  oftraytours. 
And  it  is  a  comon  affection  which  we  beare  to  wicked  per- 
sons, whilest  we  stand  in  neede  of  them  :  not  unlike  for  all  A  fit  simili- 
the  world  to  those  which  have  nede  of  the  gall  and  poyson  t"*i^- 
of  venemous  beasts.     For  when  they  finde  it,  they  are  glad, 
and  take  it  to  serve  their  turne  :  but  after  their  turne  is 
served,   and   they  have   that   they  sought,    they  hate   the 
crueltie  of  such  beasts.    So  played  Tatius  at  that  time.    For 
when  he  was  gotten  into  the  castell,  he  commanded  the 
Sabynes  (for  performance  of  his  promise  he  had  made  to 
Tarpeia)  they  should  not  sticke  to  geve  her  all  they  weare 
on  their  left  armes,  and  to  doe  as  he  did :  who  taking  from 
his  owne  arme  first,  the  bracelet  which  he  ware,  did  cast  it 
to  her,  and  his  target  after.     And  so  did  all  the  rest  in  like  Note  the 
sorte,  in  so  much  as  being  borne  downe  to  the  ground  by  the  reward  of 
weight  of  bracelets  and  targets,  she  dyed  as  pressed  to  deathe  *^^^^'*°- 
under  her  burden.     Nevertheles  Tarpeius  self  was  atteinted,  Tarpeia  piess- 
and  condemned  also  of  treason,  by  Romulus  order,  as  luba  e^i  *"  deathe. 

91 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

ROMULUS  sayeth,  it  is  set  forth  by  Sulpitius  Galba.  They  that  write 
nowe  otherwise  of  Tarpeia,  saying  she  was  the  daughter 
of  Tatius,  generall  of  the  Sabynes,  and  was  forced  by 
Romulus  to  lie  with  him,  and  how  she  was  punished  in  this 
sorte  by  her  own  father  after  her  said  treason  committed  : 
those  I  saye,  amongest  whom  Antigonus  is  one,  are  not  to  be 
credited.  And  the  poet  Simylus  also  dothe  dote  most,  who 
sayeth  Tarpeia  solde  the  Capitoll  not  to  the  Sabynes,  but  to 
the  king  of  Gaules,  Avith  whom  she  was  in  love  :  as  in  these 
verses  dothe  appeare. 

Tarpeia,  that  mayde  of  foolishe  mynde, 

which  nere  unto  the  Capitoll  did  dwell 
(In  fervent  flames,  of  beastly  love  beblynde, 

wherewith  the  king  of  Gaules  did  make  her  swell) 
Caused  stately  Rome  surprised  for  to  be 

by  enemies,  as  every  man  maye  see. 
And  so  throughe  hope  of  his  fidelitie 

betrayed  her  syre,  with  all  his  familie. 

And  a  litle  after,  in  speaking  of  the  manner  of  her  deathe, 
he  sayeth  also : 

Yet  lo  :  the  Gaules,  those  worthie  men  of  might 
threw  her  not  downe,  into  the  waves  of  Po, 

But  from  their  armes,  wherewith  they  wonte  to  fight 
they  cast  their  shields  upon  her  body  so, 

That  she  surprest  with  such  an  heavy  waight, 

(Ah  woefull  mayde)  to  death  was  smoothred  straight. 

This  mayden  therefore  being  buried  in  the  same  place, 
the  whole  hill  was  called  afterwardes  Tarpeius  after  her 
name,  which  continued  untill  Tarquinius  the  King  dyd  dedi- 
cate all  the  place  to  lupiter :  for  then  they  caryed  her  bones 
into  some  other  place,  and  so  it  lost  her  name.  Onles  it  be 
that  rocke  of  the  Capitoll,  which  at  this  present  time  they 
call  Rupes  Tarpeia,  from  the  toppe  whereof  they  were  wonte 
in  olde  time  to  throwe  doAvne  hedlong  all  wicked  offenders. 
When  the  Sabynes  now  had  gotten  this  holde,  Romulus 
being  exceeding  wrathe,  sent  them  a  defiaunce,  and  bad 
them  battell  if  they  durst.  Tatius  straight  refused  not,  con- 
sidering if  by  mischaunce  they  were  distressed,  they  had  a 
sure  refuge  to  retire  unto.    The  place  betweene  the  two  armies 

92 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

where  the  fight  should  be,  was  all  [round  about  environned  ROMULUS 
with  litle  hilles.     So  as  it  was  playne,  the  fight  could  not  be 
but  sharpe  and  daungerous,  for  the  discommodiousnes  of  the  The  place  of 
place,  were  was  neither  grounde  for  any  to  flye,  nor  yet  any  the  fight  be- 
space  for  any  longe  chase,  it  was  of  so  small  a  compasse.  twext  Romu- 
Nowe  it  fortuned  by  chaunce,  the  river  of  Tyber  had  over-    "^*°     ^  "^' 
flowen  the  banckes  a  fewe  dayes  before,  and  there  remained 
in  it  a  deeper  mudde  then  men  would  have  judged,  bicause 
the  grounde  was  so  plaine,  and  was  even  where  the  great 
market  place  of  Rome  standeth  at  this  daye.     They  could 
disceme  nothing  thereof  by  the  eye,  bicause  the  upper  parte 
of  it  was  crusted,  whereby  it  was  the  more  readye  for  them 
to  venter  upon,  and  the  worse  to  get  out,  for  that  it  dyd 
syncke  underneathe.     So  the  Sabynes  had  gone  upon  it,  had 
not  Curtius  daunger  sene,  which   by  good   fortune  stayed  Curtius  the 
them.     He  was  one  of  the  noblest  and  valliantest  men  of  Sabyne. 
the  Sabynes,  who  being  mounted  upon  a  courser,  went  on 
a  good  waye  before  the  armie.     This  courser  entring  upon 
the  crusted  mudde,  and  sincking  with  all,  beganne  to  plonge 
and  struggle  in  the  myer  :  whereat  Curtius  proved  a  while 
with  the  spurre  to  sturre  him,  and  get  him  out,  but  in  the 
ende  seeing  it  would  not  be,  he  left  his  backe,  and  saved 
him  selfe.     The  same  very  place  to  this  daye  is  called  after 
his  name,  Lacus  Curtius.     The  Sabynes  then  scaping  thus  Curtius  lake, 
this   daunger,  beganne  the  battell.     The  fight  dyd  growe  The  Sabynes 
very  cruell,  and  endured  so  a  great  while,  the  victorie  leaning  geve  battell 
no  more  to  the  one  side  then  to  the  other.     There  dyed  in       ^^omums. 
a   small   space   a   great  number   of  men,  amongest  whom 
Hostilius  was  one,  who  as  they  saye  was  the  husband  of  Hostilius 
Hersilia,  and   grandfather  to   Hostilius  that  was   king  of  slayne. 
Romaines  after  Numa  Pompilius.     Afterwardes  there  were 
(as  we  may  thincke)  many  other  encounters  and  battells 
betweene  them  :  howbeit  they  make  mention  of  the  last  above 
all  the  rest,  wherein  Romulus  had  so  sore  a  blowe  on  liis  Romulus  hit 
head  with  a  stone,  that  he  was  almost  felled  to  the  grounde,  *^^  the  head 
in  so   much  as  he  was  driven  to  retire  a  litle  out  of  the  ^^^^^  ^  stoue. 
battell.     Upon  which  occasion   the    Romaines  gave  backe 
also,  and  drue  towardes  mount  Palatine,  being  driven  out  of 
the  playne  by  force.     Romulus  beganne  nowe  to  recover  of 

93 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

ROMULUS  the  blowe  he  had  receyved,  and  so  returned  to  geve  a  newe 
onset,  and  cryed  out  all  he  might  to  his  souldiers  to  tarye, 
and  shewe  their  face  againe  to  their  enemie.  But  for  all  his 
lowde  crying,  they  left  no  flying  still  for  life,  and  there  was 
not  one  that  durst  returne  againe.  Whereupon  Romulus 
lyfting  up  his  handes  straight  to  heaven,  dyd  most  fervently 
praye  unto  lupiter,  that  it  would  please  him  to  staye  the 
flying  of  his  people,  and  not  suffer  the  Romaines  glorie  thus 
to  fall  to  their  utter  destruction,  but  to  repaire  it  by  his 
favour  againe.  He  had  no  soner  ended  this  prayer,  but 
divers  of  his  men  that  fled,  beganne  to  be  ashamed  to  flye 
before  their  King,  and  a  sodaine  boldnes  came  upon  them, 
and  their  feare  therewithal!  vanished  awaye.  The  place  they 
first  stayed  in  was,  where  as  nowe  is  the  temple  of  lupiter 
Stator,  which  is  as  much  to  saye,  as  lupiter  the  stayer. 
Afterwardes  gathering  them  selves  together  againe,  they 
repulsed  the  Sabynes  even  to  the  place  they  call  nowe  Regia, 
and  vmto  the  temple  of  the  goddesse  Vesta  :  where  bothe  the 
battels  being  prepared  to  geve  a  newe  charge,  there  dyd  fall 
out  before  them,  a  straunge  and  an  uncredible  thing  to  see, 
which  stayed  them  they  fought  not.  For  of  the  Sabyne 
women  whom  the  Romaines  had  ravished,  some  ranne  of  the 
one  side,  other  of  the  other  side  of  the  battels,  with  lamenta- 
tions, cryes,  and  showtes,  stepping  betweene  their  weapons, 
and  among  the  slayne  bodyes  on  the  grounde,  in  suclie  sorte 
that  they  seemed  out  of  their  wittes,  and  caried  as  it  were 
with  some  spirites.  In  this  manner  they  went  to  finde  out 
their  fathers  and  their  husbands,  some  carying  their  sucking 
babes  in  their  armes,  other  having  their  heare  lose  about 
their  eyes,  and  all  of  them  calling,  nowe  upon  the  Sabynes, 
nowe  upon  the  Romaines,  with  the  gentelest  names  that 
could  be  devised  :  whicli  dyd  melt  the  hartes  of  bothe  parties 
in  suche  sorte,  that  they  gave  backe  a  litle,  and  made  them 
place  betweene  bothe  the  battells.  Then  were  the  cryes  and 
lamentations  of  every  one  playnely  hearde.  There  was  not  a 
man  there  but  it  pittied  him,  as  well  to  see  them  in  that 
pittiefuU  case,  as  to  heare  the  lamentable  wordes  they  spake : 
adding  to  their  most  humble  petitions  and  requestes  that 
could  be  any  waye  imagined,  passing  wise  persuasions  and 
94 


lupiter 
Stator. 


A  wonderfull 
boldnes  of 
women. 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

reasons  to  induce  them  to  a  peace.  For  what  offence  (sayed 
they)  or  what  displeasure  have  we  done  to  you,  that  we 
should  deserve  suchc  an  heape  of  evills,  as  we  have  already 
suffered,  and  yet  you  make  us  beare  ?  we  were  as  you  knowe 
violently  (and  against  all  lawe)  ravished  by  those,  whose 
nowe  we  remaine.  But  oure  fathers,  oure  brethren,  oure 
mothers  and  friends  have  left  us  with  them  so  long,  that 
processe  of  time,  and  the  straightest  bonds  of  the  worlde, 
have  tyed  us  nowe  so  fast  to  them,  whom  mortally  before 
we  hated :  that  we  are  constrayned  nowe  to  be  slighted 
thus,  to  see  them  fight,  yea  and  to  lament  and  dye  with 
them,  who  before  unjustly  tooke  us  from  you.  For  then 
you  came  not  to  oure  rescue  when  we  were  virgines  un- 
touched, nor  to  recover  us  from  them  when  they  wickedly 
assaulted  us,  poore  sowles :  but  nowe  ye  come  to  take  the 
wives  from  their  husbands,  and  the  mothers  from  their  litle 
children.  So  as  the  helpe  ye  thincke  to  geve  us  nowe  dothe 
grieve  us  more,  then  the  forsaking  of  us  was  sorowfull  to 
us  then.  Suche  is  the  love  they  have  borne  unto  us,  and 
suche  is  the  kyndenes  we  beare  againe  to  them.  Nowe,  if 
ye  dyd  fight  for  any  other  cause  then  for  us,  yet  were  it 
reason  ye  should  let  fall  your  armes  for  oure  sakes  (by  whom 
you  are  made  grandfathers  and  fathers  in  lawe,  cosins  and 
brothers  in  lawe)  even  from  those  against  whom  you  now 
bend  your  force.  But  if  all  this  warre  beganne  for  us,  we 
hartely  beseeche  you  then  that  you  will  receyve  us  with  your 
sonnes  in  lawe,  and  your  sonnes  by  them,  and  that  you  will 
restore  unto  us  oure  fathers,  oure  brethern,  oure  kinsefolkes 
and  friends,  without  spoyling  us  of  oure  husbands,  of  our 
children,  and  of  our  joyes,  and  thereby  make  us  woefull 
captives  and  prisoners  in  oure  mindes.  These  requestes  and 
persuasions  by  Hersilia,  and  other  the  Sabyne  women  being 
heard,  bothe  the  armies  stayed,  and  helde  everie  bodie  his 
hand,  and  straight  the  two  generalles  imparled  together. 
During  which  parle  they  brought  their  husbands  and  their 
children,  to  their  fathers  and  their  brethern.  They  brought 
meate  and  drincke  for  them  that  would  eate.  They  dressed 
up  the  woundes  of  those  that  were  hurte.  They  caried  them 
home  with  them  to  their  houses.     They  shewed  them  howe 

95 


ROMULUS 


The  worfles  of 
Hersilia  and 
other  Sabyne 
women  unto 
both  armies. 


Romulus  and 
Tatiusimparle 
together. 


LIVES    OF    THE    NOBLE 


ROMULUS 


Peace  betwene 
the  Romaines 
and  Sabyiies. 


Quirites  why 
so  called. 


Comitium. 


The  Romaine 
legion.  6000. 
footemen,600, 
horsemen. 

The  Romaine 
tribes. 


Honours 
geven  to 
women. 


they  were  mistresses  there  with  their  husbands.  They  made 
them  see  howe  greately  they  were  accompted  of  and  esteemed : 
yea  howe  with  a  wedlocke  love  and  reputation  they  were 
honored.  So  in  the  end  peace  was  concluded  betwene  them, 
wherein  it  was  articled,  that  the  Sabyne  women  which  would 
remaine  with  their  husbands  should  tarye  still,  and  be 
exempted  from  all  worke  or  service  (as  above  recited)  save 
only  spinning  of  wolle.  And  that  the  Sabynes  and  Romaines 
should  dwell  together  in  the  cittie,  which  should  be  called 
Roma,  after  Romulus  name :  and  the  inhabitants  should  be 
called  Quirites,  after  the  name  of  the  cittie  of  Tatius  king  of 
the  Sabynes,  and  that  they  should  reigne  and  goveme  to- 
gether by  a  comon  consent.  The  place  where  this  peace  was 
concluded,  is  called  yet  to  this  daye  Comitium  :  bicause  that 
Coire,  in  the  Latine  tongue  signiiieth  '  to  assemble.'  So  the 
cittie  being  augmented  by  the  one  halfe,  they  dyd  choose  of 
the  Sabynes  another  hundred  new  Patricians,  unto  the  first 
hundred  of  the  Romaines  that  were  chosen  before.  Then 
were  the  Legions  made  of  sixe  thousand  footemen,  and  six 
hundred  horsemen.  After  they  divided  their  inhabitants 
into  three  Tribes,  wherof  those  that  came  of  Romulus, 
were  called  Ramnenses  after  his  name  :  those  that  came  of 
Tatius  were  called  Tatienses  after  his  name  :  and  those  that 
were  of  the  third  stocke,  were  called  Lucerenses,  as  from  the 
Latine  word  Lucus,  called  with  us  a  grove  in  English, 
bicause  thither  great  number  of  people  of  all  sortes  dyd 
gather,  which  afterwards  were  made  citizens  of  Rome.  The 
very  worde  of  Tribus  (which  signifieth  bands,  wards,  or  hun- 
dreds) dothe  witnesse  this  beginning  of  Rome  from  wards,  or 
hundreds.  For  hereupon  the  Romaines  call  those  at  this  daye, 
their  Tribunes,  which  are  the  chiefe  heades  of  the  people. 
But  every  one  of  these  principall  wardes  had  afterwards  ten 
other  particular  wards  under  them,  which  some  thincke  were 
called  after  the  names  of  the  thirtie  Sabyne  women  that 
were  ravished :  but  that  semeth  false,  bicause  many  of  them 
cary  the  names  of  the  places  they  came  from.  Howbeit  at 
that  time  many  things  were  stablished  and  ordeined  in 
honour  of  women :  as  to  geve  them  place,  the  upper  hande 
in  meeting  them,  the  upper  hande  in  streets :  to  speake  no 
96 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

fowle  or  dishonest  word  before  them,  no  man  to  unraye  him-  ROMULUS 
selfe,  or  shew  naked  before  them :  that  they  should  not  be 
called  before  criminall  judges  sitting  upon  homicides  and 
murderers :  that  their  children  should  weare  about  their 
necks  a  kind  of  a  Juell  called  Bulla,  facioned  in  manner  like 
these  water  bubbles  that  rise  upon  the  water  when  it  begin- 
neth  to  raine :  and  that  their  gownes  should  be  garded  with 
purple.  Now  the  two  Kings  dyd  not  straight  conferre  to- 
gether so  sone  as  any  occasion  of  busines  was  offered  them, 
but  either  of  them  dyd  first  counsell  alone  with  his  hundred 
Senatours,  and  afterwards  they  dyd  all  assemble  together. 
Tatius  dwelt  in  the  place  where  nowe  is  the  temple  of  luno  Tatius  and 
Moneta :  Romulus  in  the  place  called  at  this  present,  the  Romulus 
stayers  of  the  fayer  bancke,  then  the  descent  of  mount  Pala-  ^^  ^*^^^' 
tine,  as  they  goe  to  the  showe  place  or  great  listes,  where 
they  saye  was  somtime  the  holy  Cornell  tree,  whereof  they  The  holy  cor- 
make  so  great  accompt.  Romulus  one  daye  desirous  to  "ell  tree. 
prove  his  strength,  threwe  (as  it  is  sayed)  a  darte  from 
mount  Aventine  toward  mount  Palatine.  The  staffe  whereof 
was  of  a  Cornell  tree  :  and  the  Iron  of  it  entred  so  deepe  into 
the  ground  being  a  lustye  fatte  soyle,  that  no  man  could  pul 
it  out,  although  many  proved  it,  and  did  the  best  they  could. 
The  ground  being  very  good  and  fit  to  bring  forth  trees, 
did  so  nourishe  the  ende  of  this  staffe,  that  it  tooke  roote, 
and  beganne  to  spread  braunches :  so  that  in  time  it  became 
a  fayer  great  Cornell  tree,  which  the  successours  of  Romulus 
dyd  inclose  with  a  walle,  and  dyd  kepe  and  worshippe  it  as  a 
very  holy  thing.  If  by  chaunce  any  went  to  see  it,  and 
found  it  looked  not  freshe  and  grene,  but  like  a  tree  withered 
and  dryed  awaye  for  lacke  of  moysture  :  he  went  awaye 
straight  as  one  affrayed,  crying  to  all  he  met  (and  they  with 
him  went  crying  still)  in  every  place,  water,  water,  as  it  had 
bene  to  have  quenched  a  fyre.  Then  ranne  they  thither  out 
of  all  quarters  with  vessels  of  water,  to  water  and  moyste 
the  tree.  In  the  time  of  Caius  Caesar,  who  caused  the 
stayers  about  it  to  be  repayred  :  they  saye  the  labourers 
raysing  the  place,  and  digging  about  this  comell  tree,  dyd 
by  negligence  hurte  the  rootes  of  the  same  in  suche  sorte,  as 
afterwardes   it    dryed    up   altogether.      Nowe  the   Sabynes 

N  97 


ROMULUS 

The  Sabynes 
used  the 
Romaines 
moneths. 


Feasts,  Mat- 
ronalia,  Car- 
mentalia, 
Carmenta, 


Lupercalia. 


LIVES   OF   THE    NOBLE 

receyved  the  moneths  after  the  manner  of  the  Romaines, 
whereof  we  have  written  sufficiently  in  the  life  of  Numa. 
Romulus  againe  used  the  Sabynes  sheldes :  and  both  he  and 
his  people  chaunged  the  facion  of  their  armour  and  weapons 
they  used.  For  the  Romaines  before  dyd  carye  litle  sheldes 
after  the  facion  of  the  Argives.  As  for  either  of  their  holy 
dayes  and  sacrifices,  they  kept  them  bothe  together,  and  dyd 
not  take  awaye  any  of  them,  which  either  the  one  or  the 
other  people  observed  before,  but  they  added  thereunto  some 
other  newe.  As  that  which  they  call  Matronalia,  which  was 
instituted  in  honour  of  the  women,  bicause  by  their  meanes 
peace  was  concluded.  And  that  also  of  Carmentalia,  in  the 
honour  of  Carmenta,  whom  some  suppose  to  be  the  goddesse 
of  fate  or  destinie,  bicause  she  hathe  rule  and  power  over  the 
nativities  of  men,  by  reason  whereof,  the  mothers  call  upon 
her  often,  and  reverence  her  very  much.  Other  saye  she  was 
the  wife  of  Evander  the  Arcadian,  who  being  a  prophetesse 
inspired  by  the  god  Phoebus,  gave  the  oracles  in  verse, 
wherupon  she  was  surnamed  Carmenta,  bicause  that  Car- 
mina  in  Latine  signifie  verses  :  for  it  is  of  certaintie  that  her 
proper  name  was  Nicostrata.  Howbeit  there  are  some  which 
geve  another  manner  of  derivation  and  interpretation  of  this 
worde  Carmenta,  which  is  the  liklier  to  be  true :  as  if  they 
would  saye,  Carens  mente :  which  signifieth  '  wanting  wit,'  for 
the  very  furie  that  taketh  them  when  they  are  inspired  with 
the  propheticall  spirite.  For  in  Latine  Carerc,  betokeneth 
'  to  lacke ' :  and  Mejis,  signifieth  '  wit."*  As  for  the  feast  of 
Palilia,  we  have  tolde  of  it  before :  but  the  feast  of  Luper- 
calia, considering  the  time  of  celebrating  thereof,  it  seemeth 
it  is  ordeined  for  a  purification.  For  it  is  celebrated  on  the 
unfortunate  dayes  of  the  moneth  of  Februarie,  which  are 
called  the  purging  dayes.  The  dayes  in  the  olde  time  on 
which  they  did  celebrate  the  same,  were  called  Februata. 
But  the  proper  name  of  the  feast,  is  as  much  to  saye,  as  the 
feast  of  woulves.  Wherefore  it  seemeth  to  be  a  feast  of  great 
antiquitie,  and  instituted  by  the  Arcadians  which  came  in 
with  Evander :  albeit  the  name  of  woulves  is  as  comon  to 
the  females,  as  the  males,  and  so  it  might  perhappes  be 
called,  by  reason  of  the  woulfe  that  brought  up  Romulus. 

9^ 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

For  we  see  those  which  ronne  up  and  down  the  cittie  that  ROMULUS 
daye,  and  they  call  Luperci,  doe  beginne  their  course  in  the 
very  place  where  they  saye  Romulus  was  cast  out.     Howbeit 
many  things  are  done,  whereof  the  originall  cause  were  hard 
now  to  be  conjectured.     For  goates  about  a  certaine  time  of 
the  yere  are  killed,  then  they  bring  two  young  boyes,  noble 
mens  sonnes,  whose  foreheads  they  touch  with  the  knife  be- 
bloudied  with  the  bloude  of  the  goates  that  are  sacrificed. 
By  and  by  they  drye  their  forheads  with  wolle  dipped  in 
milke.     Then  the  yong  boyes  must  laughe  immediately  after 
they  have  dried  their  forheads.     That  done  they  cut  the 
goates  skinnes,  and  make  thongs  of  them,  which  they  take 
in  their  hands,  and   ronne  with   them  all  about  the  cittie 
starck    naked    (saving    they    have    a    clothe    before    their 
secrets)   and   so    they  strike    with    these   thonges   all   they 
mete  in  their  wave.      The  yonge  wives  doe  never  shonne 
them  at  all,  but  are  well  contented  to  be  striken  with  them, 
beleeving  it  helpeth  them  to  be  with  childe,  and  also  to  be 
easely  delivered.     There  is  another  thing  yet  in  this  feast, 
that  these  Lupercians  which  ronne  about  the  cittie,  doe  also  The  Luper- 
sacrifice  a  dogge.     Concerning  this  feast,  the  Poet  named  <^^^"?  ^^^ 
Butas  dothe  write  somewhat  in  his  elegies,  where  shewing  ^^'^""'^^  » 
the  occasion  of  the  fond  customes  and  ceremonies  of  the 
Romaines,  he  dothe  saye  that  Romulus  after  he  had  slayne 
Amulius,  did  runne  straight  with  great  joye  to  the  very 
place  where  the  wolfe  gave  him  and  his  brother  sucke,  in 
memory  of  which  running,  he  sayeth  this  feast  of  Lupercalia 
was  celebrated  :  and  that  the  noble  mens  younger  sonnes  doe  Why  the 
runne  through  the  cittie,  striking  and  laying  on  them  which  Lupercians 
they  meete  in  their  way  with  their  goate  thongs,  in  token  Tu^^^A-  ""^'^ 
that  Remus  and  Romulus  ranne  from  Alba  unto  that  place,  naked, 
with  their  drawen  swordes  in  their  hands.     And  that  the 
touching  of  their  forehead  with  a  bloudy  knife,  is  in  re- 
membrance of  the  daunger  they  stoode  in  at  that  time  to 
have  bene  slaine.     Last  of  all,  the  drying  of  their  foreheads 
with  wolle  dipped  in  milke,  is  in  memorie  of  the  milke  they 
sucked  of  the  woulfes.      But  Caius  Acilius   writeth,  that 
Remus  and  Romulus  before  Rome  was  built,  did  happen  to 
lose  their  beasts  on  a  daye,  and  after  they  had  made  certaine 

99 


LIVES    OF    THE    NOBLE 

ROMULUS  prayers  unto  Faunus  for  the  finding  of  them,  they  ranne  here 
and  there  starcke  naked  as  they  went  a  seeking  of  them,  for 
feare  they  should  have  bene  troubled  with  overmuch  heate 
and  sweating.  And  this  is  the  cause  he  sayeth,  why  the 
Lupercians  doe  at  this  daye  ronne  about  naked.  And  if  it 
be  true  they  make  this  sacrifice  for  a  purging,  a  man  might 
saye  they  might  offer  up  a  dogge  for  that  purjoose,  like  as 
the  Graecians  in  their  sacrifices  of  purgation  doe  use  to  carie 
out  all  their  doggs.  And  in  many  places  they  doe  observe 
this  ceremonie,  to  drive  out  the  doggs,  which  they  call 
Periscylacismes.  Otherwise,  if  it  be  of  a  thanckfullnes  to 
the  woulfe  that  gave  Romulus  sucke,  and  saved  him  from 
perishing,  that  the  Romaines  doe  solemnise  this  feast :  it  is 
not  impartinent  they  sacrifice  a  dogge,  bicause  he  is  enemie 
to  the  woulves.  Onles  a  man  would  saye  it  was  to  punishe 
this  beast,  which  troubleth  and  letteth  the  Lupercians  when 
they  runne.  Some  saye  also  it  was  Romulus,  who  first  in- 
stituted it  a  religion  to  kepe  holy  fire,  and  that  first  ordeined 
holie  virgines,  which  are  called  Vestales :  other  doe  ascribe 
it  to  Numa  Pompilius.  Notwithstanding  it  is  most  certaine 
otherwise,  that  Romulus  was  a  very  devoute  man,  and  greatly 
skilfull  in  telling  of  things  to  come  by  the  flying  of  birds  : 
for  which  cause  he  did  ordinarilie  carie  the  angurs  crooked 
staffe,  called  in  Latin  Lituus.  It  is  a  rodde  crooked  at  the 
end,  wherewith  the  augurs  or  soothsayers  when  they  sit 
down  to  behold  the  flying  of  birds,  doe  poynte  out  and 
marke  the  quarters  of  the  heaven.  They  carefully  kept  it 
within  the  pallace  :  howbeit  it  was  lost  in  the  time  of  warres 
with  the  Gaules,  when  the  cittie  of  Rome  was  taken.  After- 
wards when  these  barbarous  people  were  chased  and  driven 
out,  it  was  founde  againe  (as  it  is  sayed)  all  whole,  within  a 
great  hill  or  heape  of  ashes,  having  no  manner  of  hurte, 
where  all  things  els  about  it  had  bene  consumed  and  marred 
with  the  fire.  He  is  sayd  to  have  made  certaine  lawes, 
among  which  there  is  one  that  seemeth  somewhat  harde, 
which  is  :  that  the  man  is  suffered  to  put  awaye  his  wife, 
and  in  some  case  to  geve  her  nothing  :  and  like  libertie  is 
not  geven  to  the  wife  to  put  awaye  her  husband.  As  if  she 
maye  be  proved  to  have  consented  to  the  poysoning  of  her 
100 


The  Vestall 
Nuiiues  aud 
holy  fire  in- 
stituted by 
Romulus. 

Lituus. 


Romulus 
lawes. 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

children,  or  to  have  counterfaited  her  husbands  keyes,  or  to  ROMULUS 
have  committed  adulterie.     But  if  he  put  her  awaye  for  any 
other  cause,  then  the  one  halfe  of  the  goodes  is  adjuged  to 
the  wife,  and  the  other  moytie  to  the  goddesse  Ceres  :  and 
he  that  putteth  away  his  wife  after  this  sorte,  is  commanded 
further,  to  sacrifice  to  the  goddes  of  the  earth.     This  also 
was  notable  in  Romulus,  who  having  ordeined  no  payne  nor 
punishement  for  parricides  (that  is  for  those  that  kill  their  Parricides, 
parents)   called   yet   all    murder   parricide,   to   shewe   how 
detestable  that  murder  was,  and  as  for  parricides,  he  thought 
it  unpossible.     And  it  seemed  a  great  while,  he  had  reason  No  parricide 
to  thincke  so,  that  such  wickednes  would  never  happen  in  the  knowen  in 
worlde.      For  in    sixe   hundred  yeres  together  it  was  not  ^^^^  ^V"^ 
knowen  that  any  man  in  Rome  committed  suche  an  offence :  together 
and  the  first  parricide  with  them  was  Lucius  Ostius,  after  the  ^     .      „    . 
warres  of  Hanniball.      But  enough  touching  this  matter,  ^^e  first  man 
Furthermore  in  the  first  yere  of  the  reigne  of  Tatius,  some  that  si  ewe  his 
of  his  kynsemen  and  friendes  met  by  chaunce  on  the  waye  owne  father 
certaine  ambassadours,  comming  from  the  citie  of  Laurentum  ^*  Rome, 
unto  Rome,  whom  they  set  upon,  and  ment  to  have  robbed 
them.     The  ambassadours  resisting  them,  and  not  willing  to  Ambassa- 
deliver  their  money,  they  made  no  more  a  doe,  but  slewe  dours  slaine 
them.    This  haynous  deede  being  thus  committed,  Romulus  ^•''"'"^"&  *** 
was  of  opinion  they  shoulde  be  executed  openly  in  the  highe 
waye  for  example.     But  Tatius  deferred  it  still  from  daye  to 
daye,  and  dyd  allwayes  excuse  the  matter  unto  him,  which 
was  the  only  cause,  they  fell  out  one  with  the  other.     For  in 
all  things  els,  they  caried  them  selves  as  honestly  as  might  be 
the  one  to  the  other,  ruling  and  governing  together,  with  a 
common  consent  and  good  accorde.     But  the  parents  and 
kynsefolkes  of  those  who  were  murdered,  when  they  sawe 
they  could  have  no  justice  bicause  of  Tatius  :  watched  him 
one   daye  as  he  sacrificed   with  Romulus,  in  the  cittie  of 
Lavinium,  and  stabbed  him  in,  without  offering  Romulus  The  death  of 
any   violence,   but   rather   praysed    him   for   a    good    and  Tatius  in 
righteous  prince.     Romulus  caused  the  bodye  of  Tatius  to  Lavimum. 
be  straight  taken  up,  and  buried  him  very  honorably  in 
mount  Aventine,  about  the  place  nowe  called  Armilustrium.  Armilus- 
Further  he  never  shewed  any  countenaunce  to  revenge  his  trium. 

101 


The  Sabines 
obedience  to 
Romulus. 


Romulus 
tooke  the 
cittie  of 
Fidena. 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

ROMULUS  death.  There  are  some  Historiographers  that  write,  that 
those  of  the  cittie  of  Laurentum  being  afeard  at  this 
murder,  dyd  deliver  forthwith  to  Romulus  the  murderers  of 
the  ambassadours.  He  notwithstanding  dyd  let  them  goe 
againe,  saying  :  one  murder  was  requited  by  another.  This 
gave  some  occasion  of  speache  to  thincke,  he  was  glad  he 
was  rydde  of  his  companion  :  yet  the  Sabynes  neither  sturred 
nor  rebelled  for  all  this,  but  some  of  them  were  affrayed  of 
him  for  the  great  love  they  bare  him,  other  for  his  power  he 
was  of,  and  other  for  the  honour  they  gave  him  as  a  god, 
continuing  still  in  duetie  and  obedience  towards  him.  Divers 
straungers  also  had  Romulus  valiancie  in  great  honour  :  as 
amongest  other,  those  who  then  were  called  the  auncient 
Latines,  which  sent  ambassadours  to  him  to  make  league  and 
amitie  with  him.  He  devised  to  take  the  cittie  of  Fidena 
which  was  nere  neighbour  to  Rome.  Some  saye  he  tooke  it 
upon  a  sodaine,  having  sent  before  certen  horse  men  to  breake 
downe  the  hookes  and  hingewes  with  force,  which  the  gates 
hang  by  :  and  him  selfe  came  after  the  rest  of  his  armie,  and 
stale  upon  them,  before  the  cittie  mistrusted  any  thing. 
Other  write  that  the  Fidenates  first  invaded  his  countrye, 
and  foraged  unto  the  very  suburbes  of  Rome,  where  they  did 
great  harme  :  and  howe  Romulus  layed  an  ambushe  in  their 
waye  as  they  returned  home,  and  slewe  a  great  number  of 
them.  When  he  tooke  their  cittie,  he  did  not  rase  it,  but 
made  a  colonye  of  it,  (as  a  place  to  send  the  overincrease  of 
Rome  unto)  whither  he  sent  afterwards  two  thousand  five 
hundred  Remains  to  inhabite  there :  and  it  was  on  the 
thirtenth  daye  of  Aprill,  which  the  Romaines  call  the  Ides 
of  the  same  moneth.  Not  long  after  there  rose  suche  a  great 
plague  in  Rome,  that  men  died  sodainely,  and  were  not 
sicke :  the  earth  brought  forth  no  fruite :  bruite  beasts 
delivered  no  increase  of  their  kynde  :  there  rayned  also 
droppes  of  bloude  in  Rome,  as  they  saye.  In  so  much  as 
besides  the  evills  men  felt  in  this  extremitie,  they  fell  in  a 
marveilous  feare  of  the  wrathe  of  the  goddes.  Afterwards 
perceiving  the  like  happened  to  the  inhabitants  of  Laurentum, 
then  every  man  judged  it  was  the  very  vengeance  and  heavie 
hand  of  the  goddes,  who  plagued  and  punished  these  two 
102 


Plague  at 
Rome. 


It  rained 
bloude  at 
Rome. 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

citties  for  the  murder  committed  upon  Tatius,  and  the  ROMULUS 
ambassadours  that  were  killed.  Whereupon  the  murderers 
of  both  sides  were  apprehended,  and  executed  :  and  these 
plagues  by  and  by  ceased  both  in  the  one  and  in  the  other 
cittie.  Romulus  besides,  did  purifie  the  cities  with  certaine 
sacrifices  that  he  devised,  which  they  keepe  still  at  this  daye, 
at  the  gate  called  Ferentina.  But  before  the  plague  ceased, 
the  Camerines  came  to  assaulte  the  Romaines,  and  had  over- 
comen  all  the  countrie,  supposing  they  should  not  be  able 
to  withstand  them,  bicause  they  had  bene  so  sore  troubled 
with  the  plague.  Yet  notwithstanding,  Romulus  set  up  on 
them  with  his  army,  and  wanne  the  field  of  them,  in  which 
conflict  there  were  slaine  about  sixe  thousand  men.  After 
the  battell  done,  he  tooke  their  cittie,  and  conveyed  to  Rome  Camerium 
the  one  half  of  the  inhabitants  that  remained.  After  this,  taken  ot 
he  sent  twise  as  many  Romaines  as  there  were  naturall 
Camerians  left  at  Camerine,  to  dwell  there  among  them. 
This  was  done  the  first  daye  of  August :  so  great  was  the 
multitude  of  the  inhabitants  of  Rome  that  had  increased  in 
sixteene  yeres  from  the  first  foundation  of  the  cittie.  Among 
other  spoyles  he  got  there,  he  caried  awsy  a  charret  of  brasse 
with  foure  horses,  which  he  caused  to  be  set  up  in  the  temple 
of  Vulcan,  and  his  o^vne  statue  upon  it,  and  victorie  cro\vning 
him  with  a  garland  triumphant.  His  power  being  growen 
thus  greate,  his  weake  neighbours  did  submit  themselves 
unto  him,  being  contented  to  live  in  peace  by  him.  His 
stronger  neighbours  were  affrayed  of  him,  and  envied  much 
his  greatnes,  and  dyd  take  it  no  good  policie  to  suffer  him 
thus  to  rise  in  the  face  of  the  world,  and  thought  it  meete 
spedilie  to  dawnte  his  glorie,  and  clippe  his  winges.  The 
first  of  the  Thuscans  that  bent  their  power  against  him, 
were  the  Veians,  who  had  a  great  countrie,  and  dwelled  in  a 
stronge  and  miglitie  cittie.  To  picke  a  quarrell  to  him, 
they  sent  to  have  redelivered  to  them  the  cittie  of  Fidena, 
which  they  sayed  belonged  unto  them.  This  was  thought 
not  only  unreasonable,  but  a  thing  worthy  laughing  at,  con- 
sidering that  all  tlie  while  the  Fidenates  were  in  warre,  and 
daunger,  the  Thuscans  never  came  to  their  ayde,  but  had 
suffered  them  to  be  slayne,  and  then  came  to  demaunde  their 

103 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

ROMULUS  lands  and  tenements,  when  other  had  possession  of  them. 
Therefore  Romulus  having  geven  them  an  aunswer  full  of 
mockerie,  and  derision,  they  divided  their  power  into  two 
armies,  and  sent  the  one  against  them  of  Fidena,  and  with 
the  other  they  marched  towards  Rome.  That  which  went 
against  the  cittie  of  Fidena,  prevayled,  and  killed  there  two 
thousand  Romaines :  the  other  was  overthrowen  and  dis- 
comfited by  Romulus,  in  which  there  dyed  eight  thousand 
Veians.  Afterwards,  they  met  againe  somewhat  neere  the 
cittie  of  the  Fidenates,  where  they  fought  a  battell :  and  all 
dyd  confesse,  the  chiefest  exployte  was  done  by  Romulus 
The  incredible  owne  hands  that  daye,  who  shewed  all  the  skill  and  valliantnes 
valiantnes  of  ^j^^t  was  to  be  looked  for  in  a  worthy  captaine.  It  seemed 
that  daye,  he  farre  exceeded  the  common  sorte  of  men,  in 
strength  of  bodye  and  feates  of  armes.  Nevertheles  that 
which  some  saye,  is  hardely  to  be  credited  :  and  to  be  plaine, 
is  out  of  all  compasse  of  beliefe  and  possibilitie.  For  they 
write,  there  were  fourteene  thousand  men  slayne  at  that 
battell,  and  that  more  then  halfe  of  them  were  slayne  by 
Romulus  own  hands :  and  the  rather,  for  that  every  man 
judgeth  it  a  vaine  bragge  and  ostentation  which  the  Mes- 
senians  reporte  of  Aristomenes,  who  offered  in  sacrifice  to 
the  goddes  three  hundred  beastes  of  victorie,  as  for  so  many 
Lacedaemonians  him  self  had  slayne  in  the  battell.  Their 
armie  being  thus  broken,  Romulus  suffered  them  to  flye  who 
by  swiftnes  could  save  them  selves,  and  marched  with  all  his 
power  in  good  arraye  towards  their  cittie.  The  cittizens 
then  considering  their  late  great  losse  and  overthrowe,  would 
not  hazard  the  daunger  of  withstanding  him,  but  went  out 
all  together,  and  made  their  humble  petition  and  sute  for 
Romulus  peace.     All  was  graunted  them  for  a  hundred  yeres,  save 

maketli  peace   thev  should  forgoe  their  territorie  called  Septemagium,  that 
with  the  ^^g  ^^Q  seventh  parte  of  their  countrye :  and  yeld  to  the 

Romaines  all  their  salt  houses  by  the  rivers  side,  and  deliver 
fiftie  of  their  chiefest  cittizens  for  their  pledges.  Romulus 
made  his  entrie  and  triumphe  into  Rome  for  them,  the  daye 
of  the  Ides  of  October,  which  is  the  fiftenth  daye  of  the 
same  moneth,  leading  in  his  triumphe  many  prisoners  taken 
in  those  warres  :  and  among  other,  the  generall  of  the  Veians, 
104 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

a  very  auncient  man  who  fondly  behaved  him  selfe  in  his  ROMULUS 
charge,  and  shewed  by  his  doings,  that  his  experience  was 
farre  shorte  for  his  yeres  in  the  warres.     And  from  thence  it 
commeth,  when  they  offer  to  the  goddes  to  geve  thanckes 
for  this  victorie,  that  even  at  this  daye,  they  bring  to  the 
capitoU  throughe  the  market  place  an  old  man  apparelled  in 
a  purple  robe,  and  with  a  Juell  called  Bulla  about  his  necke, 
which   the   gentlemens   young   children  weare   about  their 
neckes :  and  a  heraulde  goeth  harde  by  him,  crying,  Who 
buyeth  who,  the  Sardianians  ?  bicause  they  holde  opnion  the 
Thuscans  are  come  of  the  Sardianians,  and  the  very  cittie  of 
Veies  standeth  in  the  countrie  of  Thuscane.     This  was  the 
laste  warre  that  Romulus  had  offered  him :  after  which  he 
could  not  beware  of  that  which  is  wonte  to  happen  almost 
to  all  those,  who  by  sodaine  prosperitie,  and  fortunes  speciall 
favour,  are  raised  to  highe  and  great  estate.     For  trusting 
to  prosperitie  and  good  successe  of  his  actes,  he  beganne  to  Prosperitie, 
growe  more  straunge  and  stately,  and  to  carie  a  sowerer  increase  of 
countenaunce  then  he  was  wonte  to  doe  before  :  leaving  to  P^'Y^e  and 
be  after  his  olde  manner,  a  curteous  and  gracious  prince,  and 
gave  him  selfe  in  facions  to  be  somwhat  like  a  tyrant,  both 
for  his  apparell,  and  stately  porte  and  majestic  that  he  caried. 
For  he  ware  ever  a  coate  of  purple  in  graine,  and  upon  that, 
a  longe  robe  of  purple  culler :  and  gave  audience,  sitting  in 
a  wyde  chayer  of  estate,  having  ever  about  him  young  men 
called  Celeres,  as  we  would  saye,  flights  for  their  swiftnes  and  Celeres,  Ro- 
speede  in  executing  of  his  commaundements.     Other  there  mulus  garde, 
were  that  went  before  him,  who  caried  as  it  were  tipstaves  in 
their  hands,  to  make  the  people  geve  roome,  and  had  leather 
thongs  about  their  middle  to  binde  fast  streight,  all  the 
prince  should  commaunde.     Nowe  in  olde  time  the  Latines 
sayed,  Ligare  was  *  to  binde "" :   but  at  this  present  they  saye 
Allig-are,  from  whence  it  commeth  that  the  ushers  and  ser- 
geants are  called  Lictores.      Howbeit  me  thincks  it  were  Lictores, 
more  likely  to  saye,  they  had  put  to  a  c.  and  that  before  "herefore 
they  were  called  Litores,  without  a  c.     For  they  be  the  very  ^'^  called, 
same  which  the  Grecians  call  Litiirgvs,  and  be  in  Englishe, 
ministers  or  officers :  and  at  this  daye,  Leitos,  or  Leos^  in  the 
Greeke  tongue  signifieth  the  people.     Romulus  now  after 
O  105 


ROMULUS 


Romulus  cori' 
verteth  the 
kingdome  of 
Alba  to  a 
comon  weale. 


Romulus 

vanished 
awaye  no  man 
knew  howe. 


The  17.  daye 
of luly  an 
unfortunate 
daye  to  the 
Romaines. 

The  death  of 
Scipio  Afri- 
canus. 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

his  grandfather  Numitor  was  dead  at  the  cittie  of  Alba,  and 
that  the  Realme  by  inheritance  fell  to  him :  to  winne  the 
favour  of  the  people  there,  turned  the  Kingdome  to  a  Comon 
•  weale,  and  every  yere  dyd  chuse  a  newe  magistrate  to  minister 
justice  to  the  Sabynes.      This  president  taught  the  noble 
men  of  Rome  to  seeke  and  desire  to  have  a  free  estate,  where 
no  subject  should  be  at  the  commaundement  of  a  King  alone, 
and  where  every  man  should  commaund  and  obey  as  should 
be  his  course.     Those  which  were  called  Patricians  in  Rome, 
dyd  medle  with  nothing,  but  had  onely  an  honorable  name 
and  robe,  and  were  called  to  counsaill  rather  for  a  facion, 
then  to  have  their  advise  or  counsaile.     For  when  they  were 
assembled  together,  they  dyd  onely  heare  the  Kings  pleasure 
and  commaundement,  but  they  might  not  speake  one  word, 
and  so  departed :   having  no  other  preheminence  over  the 
Common  wealthe,  saving  they  were  the  first  that  dyd  knowe 
what  was  done.     All  other  things  thereby  dyd  greve  them 
lesse.     But  when  of  his  owne  mere  authoritie,  and  as  it  were 
of  him  self,  he  would  as  pleased  him,  bestowe  the  conquered 
lands  of  his  enemies  to  his  souldiers,  and  restore  againe  to 
the  Veians  their  hostages  as  he  dyd :  therein  plainely  appeared, 
how  great  injurie  he  dyd  to  the  Senate.     Whereupon  the 
Senatours  were  suspected  afterwards  that  they  killed  him, 
when  with  in  fewe  dayes  after  it  was  sayed,  he  vanished 
awaye  so  straungely,  that  no  man  ever  knewe  what  became 
of  him.     This  was  on  the  seventh  daye  of  the  moneth  nowe 
called  luly,   which   then   was   named   Qumtilis,  leaving   no 
manner  of  certaintie  els  of  his  deatlie  that  is  knowen,  save 
only  of  the  daye  and  the  time  when  he  vanished,  as  we  have 
sayed  before.     For  on  that  daye,  the  Romaines  doe  at  this 
present   many  things,  in    remembrance   of  the   misfortune 
which  happened  to  them  then.     It  is  no  marvell,  the  cer- 
taintie of  his  deathe  was  not  knowen  :  seeing  Scipio  Africanus 
was  founde  after  supper  dead  in  his  house,  and  no  man  could 
tell,  nor  yet  dyd  know  how  he  dved.     For  some  saye  that 
he  fainted,  and  dyed  sodainely  being  of  weake  complexion. 
Other  saye  he  poysoned  him  self:  other  thincke  his  enemies 
dyd  get  secretly  in  the  night  into  his  house,  and  smoothred 
him  in  his  bed.     Yet  they  founde  his  body  laved  on  the 
lOG  *       ' 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

ground,  that  every  body  might  at  leysure  consider,  if  they  ROMULUS 
could  finde  or  conjecture  the  manner  of  his  death.  Howbeit 
Romulus  vanished  away  sodainely,  there  was  neither  scene 
pece  of  his  garments,  nor  yet  was  there  found  any  parte  of 
his  body.  Therfore  some  have  thought  that  the  whole 
Senatours  fell  upon  him  together  in  the  temple  of  Vulcan,  Divers 
and  how  after  they  had  cut  him  in  peces,  every  one  caried  opinions  of 
awaye  a  pece  of  him,  folded  close  in  the  skyrte  of  his  robe.  Romulus 
Other  thincke  also,  this  vanishing  away  was  not  in  the 
temple  of  Vulcan,  nor  in  the  presence  of  the  Senatours  only  : 
but  they  saye  that  Romulus  was  at  that  time  without  the 
cittie,  neere  the  place  called  the  goates  marshe,  where  he  The  g:oate 
made  an  oration  to  the  people,  and  that  sodainely  the  marshe. 
weather  chaunged,  and  overcast  so  terribly,  as  it  is  not  to 
be  tolde  nor  credited.  For  first,  the  sunne  was  darckned  as 
if  it  had  bene  very  night :  this  darcknes  was  not  in  a  calme 
or  still,  but  there  fell  horrible  thunders,  boysterous  windes, 
and  flashing  lightnings  on  every  side,  which  made  the  people 
ronne  awaye,  and  scatter  here  and  there,  but  the  Senatours 
kept  still  close  together.  Afterwardes  when  the  lightning 
was  past  and  gone,  the  daye  cleared  up,  and  the  element 
waxed  fayer  as  before.  Then  the  people  gathered  together 
againe,  and  sought  for  the  King :  asking  what  was  become 
of  him.  But  the  noble  men  would  not  suffer  them  to  enquire 
any  further  after  him,  but  counselled  them  to  honour  and 
reverence  him  as  one  taken  up  into  heaven  :  and  that  thence- 
forth in  steade  of  a  good  King,  he  would  be  unto  them  a 
mercifull  and  gratious  god.  The  meaner  sorte  of  people 
(for  the  most  parte  of  them)  tooke  it  well,  and  were  very 
glad  to  heare  thereof:  and  went  their  waye  worshipping- 
Romulus  in  their  hartes,  with  good  hope  they  should  prosper 
by  him.  Howbeit  some  seeking  out  the  trothe  more  egerly 
did  comber  sore,  and  troubled  the  Patricians  :  accusing  them, 
that  they  abused  the  common  people  with  vaine  and  fonde 
persuasions,  whilest  them  selves  in  the  meane  time  had 
murdered  the  King  with  their  owne  hands.  While  things 
were  thus  in  hurly  burly,  some  saye  there  was  one  lulius 
Proculus,  the  noblest  of  all  the  Patricians,  being  esteemed 
for  a  marvelous  honest  man,  and  knowen  to  have  bene  very 

107 


ROMULUS 

lulius  Pro- 
culus  met 
with  Romulus 
after  his 
vanishing. 


Romulus 
oracle  unto 
Proculus. 


Romulus  call- 
ed Quirinus, 
and  honored 
as  a  god. 


Aristeas  a 
Proconnesian 
taken  out  of 
mens  sight 
after  he  was 
dead. 


LIVES   OF   THE    NOBLE 

familier  with  Romulus,  and  came  with  him  from  the  cittie 
of  Alba :  that  stepped  forth  before  all  the  people,  and 
affirmed  (by  the  greatest  and  holyest  othes  a  man  might 
sweare)  that  he  had  met  Romulus  on  the  waye,  farre  greater 
and  fayerer,  then  he  had  seene  him  ever  before,  and  armed 
all  in  white  armour,  shyning  bright  like  lire :  whereat  being 
affrayed  in  that  sorte  to  see  him,  he  asked  him  yet :  O  King, 
why  hast  thou  thus  left  and  forsaken  us,  that  are  so  falsely 
accused  and  charged  to  our  utter  discredit  and  shame,  by 
thy  vanishing.  To  whom  Romulus  gave  this  aunswer.  Pro- 
culus, it  hathe  pleased  the  goddes  from  whom  I  came,  that 
I  should  remaine  amongest  men  so  long  as  I  dyd :  and  nowe 
having  built  a  cittie,  which  in  glorie  and  greatnes  of  empire 
shalbe  the  chiefest  of  the  worlde,  that  I  should  returne  againe 
to  dwell  with  them,  as  before,  in  heaven.  Therefore  be  of 
good  comforte,  and  tell  the  Romaines,  that  they  exercising 
prowesse  and  temperancie,  shalbe  the  mightiest  and  greatest 
people  of  the  worlde.  As  for  me,  tell  them  I  will  hence- 
forth be  their  god,  protectour,  and  patron,  and  they  shall 
call  me  Quirinus.  These  wordes  seemed  credible  to  the 
Romaines,  aswell  for  the  honesty  of  the  man  that  spake 
them,  as  for  the  solemne  othes  he  made  before  them  all. 
Yet  I  wote  not  how,  some  celestiall  motion,  or  divine  inspira- 
tion helped  it  much :  for  no  man  sayed  a  word  against  it. 
And  so  all  suspition  and  accusation  layed  aside,  every  man 
began  to  call  upon  Quirinus,  to  praye  unto  him,  and  to  wor- 
shippe  him.  Truely  this  tale  is  much  like  the  tales  that  the 
Grecians  tell  of  Aristeas  the  proconnesian,  and  of  Cleomedes 
the  Astypalaeian.  For  they  saye,  that  Aristeas  dyed  in  a 
fullers  worke  house,  and  his  friends  comming  to  carie  awaye 
his  bodye,  it  fell  out  they  could  not  tell  what  became  of  it : 
and  at  that  instant  there  were  some  which  came  out  of  the 
fields,  and  affirmed  they  met  and  spake  with  him,  and  how 
he  kept  his  waye  towards  the  cittie  of  Crotona.  It  is  sayed 
also  that  Cleomedes  was  more  then  a  man  naturally  strong 
and  great,  and  therewithall  madde,  and  furious  hastie.  For 
after  many  desperate  partes  he  had  played,  he  came  at  the 
last  on  a  daye  into  a  schoole  house  full  of  litle  children,  the 
roofe  wherof  was  borne  with  one  piller,  which  he  dyd  hit 
108 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

with  so  terrible  a  blowe  of  his  fiste,  that  he  brake  it  in  the  ROMULUS 
middest,  so  as  the  whole  roofe  fell  and  dashed  the  poore  Cleomedes 
children  in  peces.     The  people  ranne  straight  after  him  to  Astypalensis 
take  him.     But  he  threwe  him  selfe  forthwith  into  a  chest,  ^'^"i^hed 
and  pulled  the  1yd  upon  him.     He  helde  it  so  fast  downe,  py^.  of  mens 
that  many  striving  together  all  they  could  to  open  it,  they  sights,  being 
were  not  able  once  to  styrre  it.      Whereupon  they  brake  fast  locked  iu 
the  chest  all  in  peces,  but  they  found  the  man  neither  quicke  *  chest, 
nor  dead.      Whereat  they  were  marvellously  amazed,  and 
sent  to  Apollo  Pythias,  where  the  prophetesse  aunswered 
them  in  this  verse  : 

Cleomedes  the  last  of  the  demy  goddes. 

The  reporte  goeth  also  that  Alcmenes  corse  dyd  vanishe  Alcmeues 
awaye,    as  they  caried    it  to   buriall,  and  howe  in    steade  bodyvanishec 
thereof  they  founde  a  stone  layed  in  the  beere.     To  con-  ^gg^e^**^^ 
elude,  men  tell   many  other  suche  wonders,  that  are  farre 
from  any  apparance  of  trothe  :    only  bicause   they  would 
make  men  to  be  as  goddes,  and  equall  with  them  in  power. 
It  is  true,  that  as  to  reprove  and  denie  divine  power,  it  were 
a  lewde  and  wicked  parte :  even  so  to  compare  earthe  and 
heaven  together,  it  were  a  mere  foUie.     Therefore  we  must 
let  suche  fables  goe,  being  most  certaine  that  as  Pindarus 
sayeth  it  is  true. 

Eche  living  corps,  must  yelde  at  last  to  deathe, 

and  every  life  must  leese  his  vitall  breathe  : 
The  soule  of  man,  that  onely  lives  on  hie,  The  soul 

and  is  an  image  of  eternitie.  etemall. 

For  from   heaven  it  came,  and  thither  againe  it  dothe 
retunie,  not  with  the  bodye,  but  then  soonest,  when  the 
sowle  is  furthest  of  and  separated  from  the  bodye,  and  that 
she  is  kept  holy,  and  is  no  more  defiled  with  the  flesh.     It  is 
that  the  philosopher  Heraclitus  ment,  when  he  sayed :  The 
drye  light,  is  the  best  soule  which  flyeth  out  of  the  bodye,  Heraclitus 
as  lightning  dothe  out  of  the  clowde  :    but  that  which  is  saying  of  the 
joyned  with  the  bodye  being  full  of  corporall  passions,  is  a  soule. 
grosse  va,pour,  darke  and  massie,  and  cannot  flame,  ryse  or 
shoote  out  like  lightning.     We  must  not  beleeve  therefore, 
that  the  bodyes  of  noble  and  vertuous  men,  doe  goe  up 

109 


Why  Romu- 
lus was  called 
Quiriuus. 


LIVES   OF   THE    NOBLE 

ROMULUS  together  with  their  soules  into  heaven,  against  the  order  of 
nature.  But  this  we  are  certainely  to  beleeve,  that  by  the 
vertues  of  their  soules  (according  to  divine  nature  and  justice) 
they  doe  of  men  become  saincts,  and  of  saincts  halfe  goddes, 
and  of  halfe  goddes,  entier  and  perfect  goddes :  after  that 
they  are  perfectly  (as  it  were  by  sacrifices  of  purgation) 
made  cleane  and  pure,  being  delivered  from  all  paine  and 
mortalitie,  and  not  by  any  civill  ordinance,  but  in  trothe  and 
reason,  they  receave  a  most  happie  and  glorious  ende.  Now 
touching  Romulus  surname,  which  afterwards  was  called 
Quirinus :  some  saye  that  it  signifieth  as  much  as  warlike  : 
other  thinke  he  was  so  called  bicause  the  Romaines  them  selves 
were  called  Quirites.  Other  ^^Tite,  that  men  in  olde  time 
did  call  the  poynte  of  a  speare,  on  the  darte  it  self,  Quiris : 
by  reason  whereof  the  image  of  luno  surnamed  Quiritides, 
was  set  up  with  an  iron  speare,  and  the  speare  which  was 
consecrated  in  the  Kings  pallace,  was  called  Mars.  Further- 
more it  is  an  use  amongest  men,  to  honour  them  with  a 
speare  or  darte,  which  have  shewed  them  selves  valiant  in 
the  warres  :  and  that  for  this  cause  Romulus  was  surnamed 
Quirinus,  as  who  would  saye,  god  of  the  speares  and  Avarres. 
There  was  since  buylt  a  temple  unto  him,  in  the  hill  called 
Quirinus,  and  so  named  of  him.  The  daye  whereon  he 
vanished,  is  called  the  flying  of  the  people,  or  otherwise  the 
Nones  of  the  goates.  For  on  that  daye,  they  goe  out  of  the 
cittie  to  doe  sacrifice  in  the  place  called  the  Fenne,  or  the 
goates  marshe :  and  the  Romaines  call  a  goate,  Capra.  As 
they  goe  thus  together,  they  call  with  lowde  showtes  and 
cryes  upon  divers  Romaines  names,  as  Marcus,  Cneus,  and 
Gains,  in  token  of  the  flying  that  was  then  :  and  that  they 
called  one  another  backe  againe,  as  they  ranne  awaye  in 
great  feare  and  disorder.  Howbeit  other  saye,  that  it  is  not 
done  to  shewe  the  ronning  awaye,  but  to  shewe  their  spede 
and  diligence,  and  referre  it  to  the  storie.  Nowe  after  the 
Gaules  that  had  taken  Rome  were  expulsed  by  Camillus, 
the  cittie  was  so  weakned,  that  they  could  scante  recover 
their  force  and  strength  againe :  wherfore  many  of  the 
Thewarre  of  Latines  jo3nning  together,  went  with  a  great  mightie  armie, 
the  Latines.  under  the  conducte  of  Livius  Posthumius,  to  warre  against 
110 


The  hill 
Quirinus. 

NoncB  Capra- 
tincB. 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

the  Romaines.    This  Posthumius  brought  his  campe  as  neere  ROMULUS 
the  cittie  of  Rome  as  he  could,  and  sent  to  the  Romaines  by  Livius 
a  trumpet  to  let  them  understand,   how  the  Latines  were  Posthumius 
desirous   by  newe   manages,  to  restore  their  olde  auncient  S^^^^^^- 
amitie  and  kinred  that  was  neere  hand  decayed  betweene 
them :  and  therefore  if  the  Romaines  would  send  them  a 
convenient  number  of  their  daughters  and  young  widowes 
to  marie  with  them,  they  should  have  peace,  as  they  had 
before  time  with  the  Sabynes,  upon  the  like  occasion.     The 
Romaines  hereat  were  sore  troubled,  thincking  that  to  deliver 
their  women  in  such  sorte  was  no  better,  then  to  yelde  and 
submit  them  selves  to  their  enemies.     But  as  they  were  thus 
perplexed,  a  wayting  mayde  called  Philotis  (or  as  other  call  Philotis  a 
her,  Tutola)  gave  them  counsell  to  doe  neither  the  one  nor  wayting 
the  other,  but  to  use  a  pollicy  with  them,  by  meanes  whereof  "^^X"^^  ^^ 
they  should  scape  the  daunger  of  the  warres,  and  should  also 
not  be  tyed  nor  bounde  by  any  pledges.     The  devise  was, 
they  should  send  to  the  Latines  her  selfe,  and  a  certaine 
number  of  their  fayrest  bonde  maydes,   trimmed  up  like 
gentlewomen  and  the  best  cittizens  daughters,  and  that  in 
the  night  she  would  lifte  them  up  a  burning  torche  in  the 
ayer,  at  which  signe  they  should  come  armed,  and  set  upon 
their  enemies  as  they  laye  a  sleepe.     This  was  brought  to 
passe :  and  the  Latines  thought  verely  they  had  bene  the 
Romaines  daughters.      Philotis  fay  led  not  in  the  night  to 
lyft  up  her  signe,  and  to  shewe  them  a  burning  torche  in  the 
toppe  of  a  wilde  figge  tree :  and  dyd  hange  certaine  cover- 
lets and  clothes  behinde  it,  that  the  enemies  might  not  see 
the  light,  and  the  Romaines  contrariwise  might  decerne  it 
the  better.     Thereupon  so  sone  as  the  Romaines  sawe  it, 
they  ranne  with  all  spede,  calling   one   another   by  their 
names,  and  issued  out  of  the  gates  of  the  cittie  with  great 
haste :  and  so  tooke  their  enemies  upon  a  sodaine,  and  slewe 
them.     In  memorie  of  which  victorie,  they  doe  yet  solemnise 
the  feaste  called   the  Nones  of  the  goates,  bicause  of  the 
wilde  figge  tree  called  in  Latine  Caprificus.     And  they  doe 
feast  the  v/omen  without  the  cittie,  under  shadowes  made  of 
the  boughe  of  figge  trees.     The  wayting  maydes,  they  ronne 
up  and  downe,  and  plave  here  and  there  together.     After- 
Ill 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

ROMULUS  wards  they  seeme  to  fight,  and  throwe  stones  one  at  another, 
as  then  they  dyd  when  they  holpe  the  Romaines  in  their 
fight.  But  fewe  writers  doe  avovve  this  tale,  bicause  it  is  on 
the  daye  time  that  they  call  so  eche  other  by  their  names, 
and  that  they  goe  to  the  place  which  they  call  the  goates 
marshe,  as  unto  a  sacrifice.  It  seemeth  this  agreeth  better 
with  the  first  historic  when  they  called  one  another  by  their 
names  in  the  night,  going  against  the  Latines :  onles  per- 
adventure  these  two  thinges  after  many  yeres  happened  upon 
Romulus  age  one  daye.  Furthermore,  they  saye  Romulus  was  taken 
and  raigne.  out  of  the  world,  when  he  was  foure  and  fiftie  yeres 

of  age,  and   had    raigned    eight   and    thirtie 
yeres  by  accompt. 


THE  COMPARISON  OF 
THESEUS  WITH  ROMULUS 


By  what 
meanes  men 
are  provoked 
to  great  enter-  | 
prises.  5 


kinj 


meanes 


dome)    dyd 
to  aspire 


HUS  have  we  declared  all  things  of  Theseus 
and  Romulus  worthy  memorie.  But  to 
compare  the  one  with  the  other,  it 
appeareth  first  that  Theseus  of  his 
owne  voluntarie  will,  without  compul- 
sion of  any  (when  he  might  with  safety 
have  reigned  in  the  cittie  of  Trcezen,  and 
succeeded  his  grandfather  in  no  small 
desire  of  him  selfe,  and  rather  sought 
to   ereat  things :    and   that  Romulus 


on 


Plato  in 
Phcedone. 


the  other  side,  to  deliver  him  self  from  bondage  and  ser- 
vitude that  laye  sore  upon  him,  and  to  escape  the  threatned 
punishment  which  still  dyd  hange  over  his  head*,  was  cer- 
tainely  compelled  (as  Plato  sayeth)  to  shewe  him  selfe 
bardie  for  feare :  who  seeing  howe  extremely  he  was  like  to 
be  handled,  was  of  very  force  constrained  to  seeke  adventure, 
and  hazarde  the  enterprise  of  atteining  highe  and  great 
things.  Moreover  the  chiefest  acte  that  ever  he  dyd  was, 
when  he  slewe  one  onelv  tyranne  of  the  cittie  of  Alba  called 
112 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

Amulius  :  where  Theseus  in  his  jorney  only,  as  he  travelled,  THESEU 
gave  his  minde  to  greater  enterprises,  and  slewe  Sciron,  AND 
Sinnis,  Procrustes,  and  Corynetes.  And  by  ridding  them  I^^^^^LUk 
out  of  the  worlde,  he  delivered  Grece  of  all  those  cruell 
tyrannes,  before  any  of  those  knewe  him  whom  he  had 
delivered  from  them.  Furthermore,  he  might  have  gone 
to  Athens  by  sea,  and  never  needed  to  have  travelled,  or 
put  him  selfe  in  daunger  with  these  robbers,  considering  he 
never  receyved  hurte  by  any  of  them  :  where  as  Romulus 
could  not  be  in  safetie  whilest  Amulius  lived.  Hereupon 
it  maye  be  alledged,that  Theseus  unprovoked  by  any  private 
wronge  or  hurte  receyved,  dyd  set  upon  these  detestable 
theves  and  robbers  :  Remus  and  Romulus  contrariwise,  so 
longe  as  the  tyranne  dyd  them  no  harme,  dyd  suft'er  him  to 
oppresse  and  wronge  all  other.  And  if  they  alledge  these 
were  noble  dedes,  and  worthy  memorie :  that  Romulus  was 
hurte  fighting  against  the  Sabynes,  and  that  he  slewe  king 
Acron  with  his  owne  handes,  and  that  he  had  overcome  and 
subdued  many  of  his  enemies.  Then  for  Theseus  on  thother 
side  may  be  objected,  the  battell  of  the  Centauri,  the  warres 
of  the  Amazones,  the  tribute  due  to  the  king  of  Creta  :  and 
howe  he  ventered  to  goe  him  selfe  thither  with  the  other 
young  boyes  and  wenches  of  Athens,  as  willingly  offering 
him  selfe  to  be  devowred  by  a  cruell  beaste,  or  els  to  be 
slayne  and  sacrificed  upon  the  tumbe  of  Androgens,  or  to 
become  bondslave  and  tyed  in  captivitie  to  the  vile  service 
of  cruell  men  and  enemies,  if  by  his  corage  and  manhodde 
he  could  not  deliver  him  self.  This  was  such  an  acte  of 
magnanimitie,  justice  and  glorie,  and  briefly  of  so  great 
vertue,  that  it  is  unpossible  truely  to  be  set  out.  Surely 
me  thinckes  the  philosophers  dyd  not  ill  define  love,  when  Love  the 
they  sayd  she  was  a  servitour  of  the  goddes,  to  save  younge  minister  of 
folkes,  "whom  they  thought  meete  to  be  preserved."^  For,  *^®  goddes. 
the  love  of  Ariadne  was  in  mine  opinion  the  worke  of  some 
god,  and  a  meane  purposely  prepared  for  Theseus  safety. 
Therefore  the  woman  is  not  to  be  reproached  nor  blamed 
for  the  love  she  bare  Theseus,  but  rather  it  is  muche  to  be 
wondred  at,  that  every  man  and  woman  in  like  wise  dyd  not 
love  him.  And  if  of  her  selfe  she  fell  in  love  with  him,  I 
F  113 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

THESEUS  saye  (and  not  without  cause)  she  afterwards  deserved  to  be 
-'^^^         beloved  of  a  god,  as  one  that  of  her  owne  nature  loved 

ROMULUS  valiantnes  and  honour,  and  entertained  men  of  singuler 
value.  But  both  Theseus  and  Romulus  being  naturally 
geven  to  rule  and  raigne,  neither  the  one  nor  the  other 
kept  the  true  forme  of  a  King,  but  bothe  of  them  dyd 
degenerate  alike  :  the  one  chaunging  him  self  into  a  popular 
man,  the  other  to  a  very  tyranne.  So  that  by  sundrie 
humours,  they  both  fell  into  one  mischief  and  errour.     For 

The  office  of     a  prince  above  all  things  must  keepe  his  estate  :  which  is  no 

a  prince.  lesse  preserved  by  doing  nothing  uncomely,  as  by  doing  all 

things  honorably.  But  he  that  is  more  severe  or  remisse 
then  he  should  be,  remaineth  now  no  more  a  King  or  a  prince, 
but  becommeth  a  people  pleaser,  or  a  cruell  tyrante  :  and  so 
causeth  his  subjects  to  despise  or  hate  him.  Yet  me 
thinckes  the  one  is  an  errour  of  to  muche  pittie  and  base- 
nes  :  and  the  other  of  to  muche  pryde  and  crueltie.  But  if 
we  maye  not  charge  fortune  with  all  mischaunces  happening 
unto  men,  but  that  we  ought  to  consider  in  them  the 
diversities  of  manners  and  passions,  seeing  anger  is  un- 
reasonable, and  wrathe  rashe  and  passionate :  then  can  we 
not  clere  the  one,  nor  excuse  the  other  of  extreme  rage  and 
passion,  in  the  facte  committed  by  the  one  against  his 
brother,  and  by  the  other  against  his  naturall  sonne.  How- 
beit  the  occasion  and  beginning  of  anger  doth  muche  excuse 
Theseus,  who  moved  with  the  greatest  cause  that  might  be, 
was  put  into  suche  choller  and  passion.  But  if  Romulus 
variaunce  with  his  brother  had  proceeded  of  any  matter  of 
counsell,  or  cause  of  the  common  weales  :  there  is  none  so 
simple  to  thincke,  that  his  wisdome  would  so  sodainely  have 
set  upon  him.  Where  as  Theseus  in  contrarie  manner  killed 
his  Sonne,  provoked  by  those  passions  that  fewe  men  can 
avoyde  :  to  wit,  love,  jelousie,  and  false  reporte  of  his  wife. 
Moreover  Romulus  anger  went  to  the  effect,  whereof  the 
issue  fell  out  very  lamentable :  Theseus  anger  stretched  no 
further,  then  to  roughe  wordes,  and  olde  folkes  curses  in 
their  heate.  For  it  seemeth,  cursed  fortune,  and  nought 
els,  was  the  cause  of  his  sonnes  only  mishappe,  as  forespoken 
and  wished  for  somewhat  bv  his  father.  These  be  the 
114 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

speciall    things  maye   be   alledged    for  Theseus.       But  for  THESEUJ 
Romulus  this  was  a  noble  thing  in  him.     First  his  beginning         AND 
being  very  lowe  and  meane,  and  his  brother  and  he  taken  for   RO-^IULUS 
bonde  men,  and  the  children   of  hoggeheards,  before  they  Wherein 
were  them  selves  all  free,  they  set  at  libertie  in  manner  all  f^omulus  was 
the  Latines,  winning  at  one  instant  many  titles  of  glorie  ferred  before 
and  honour  :    as   distroyers  of  their  enemies,  defenders  of  Theseus, 
their  parents.  Kings  of  nations,  founders  of  newe  citties, 
and  no  overthrowers  of  the  olde,  where  as  Theseus  of  many 
habitations  and  houses  made  onely  one,  and  dyd  overthrowe 
and  plucke  downe  divers  states,  bearing  the  names  of  auncient 
Kings,  princes,  and  halfe  goddes  of  Attica.     All  these  also 
dyd  Romulus  afterwards,  and  compelled  his  enemies  whom 
he  had  overcome,  to  distroye  their  owne  houses,  and  to  come 
and  dwell  with  their  conquerours.     And  in  the  beginning, 
he  never  chaunged  nor  increased  any  cittie  that  was  buylt 
before,  but  buylt  him  selfe  a  newe  cittie  out  of  the  grounde, 
getting  all  together,  land,  countrie,  kingdome,  kinred  and 
manages,  without  losing  or  killing  any  man :    and  to  the 
contrarie,  rather  he   dyd  good  to   many  poore  vacabonds, 
who  had  neither  countrie,  lands,  nor  houses,  and  desired 
nothing  els  but  to  make  a  people  amongest  them,  and  to 
become  cittizens  of  some  cittie.     Also  Romulus  bent  not 
him  selfe  to  follow  theeves  and  robbers,  but  subdued  by  force 
of  armes  many  mightie  and  puissant  people  :  he  tooke  citties, 
and  triumphed  over  Kings  and  Princes  which  he  had  van- 
quished in  battell.     And  touching  the  murder  of  Remus,  it 
is  not  certainely  knowen  of  whose   hands  he  dyed.     The 
most  parte  of  authors  doe  charge  other  with  the  death  of 
him.     But  it  is  certaine  that  Romulus  delivered  his  mother  Romulus  love 
from  apparant  death,  and  restored  his  grandfather  to  the  to  his  kynne. 
royall  throne  of  .Eneas,  wlio  before  was  deposed  and  brought 
from  a  King  to  servill  obedience,  without  any  regarde  of 
honour   or   dignitie :    to   whom   he  dyd   many   moe   great 
pleasures   and    services.      Besides    he    never   offended    him 
willingly,  no  not  so  muche  as  ignorantly.      Contrarylie  I 
thincke  of  Theseus,  who  fayling  by  negligence  to  put  out  his  Theseus 
white  sayle  at  his  returne,  cannot  be  cleared  of  parricide,  detected  for 
howe  eloquent  an  oration  soever  could  be   made   for  his  o""^'^*"^* 

115 


THESEUS 

AND 
ROMULUS 


Theseus  de- 
tected for  his 
ravish  ements 
of  women. 


Romulus 
ravishement 
of  women 
excused. 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

excuse :  yea  though  it  were  before  the  most  favorable 
judges  that  could  be.  Wherefore  an  Athenian  very  well 
perceyving  that  it  was  an  harde  thing  to  excuse  and 
defend  so  fowle  a  faulte,  dothe  fayne  that  the  good  olde 
man  ^Egeus  having  newes  brought  him  that  his  sonnes 
shippe  was  at  hand,  dyd  ronne  in  so  great  haste  to  his 
castell,  to  see  his  sonne  arrive  a  farre  of,  that  as  he  ranne, 
his  foote  hit  against  some  thing,  and  overthrewe  him  :  as 
though  he  had  none  of  his  people  about  him,  or  that  never 
a  man  seeing  him  ronne  so  hastely  to  the  sea  side,  dyd  make 
haste  to  attende  and  wayte  upon  him.  Furthermore,  Theseus 
faults  touching  women  and  ravishements,  of  the  twaine,  had 
the  lesse  shadowe  and  culler  of  honestie.  Bicause  Theseus 
dyd  attempt  it  very  often :  for  he  stale  awaye  Ariadne, 
Antiope,  and  Anaxo  the  Troezenian.  Againe  being  stepped 
in  yeres,  and  at  later  age,  and  past  mariage  :  he  stale  awaye 
Helen  in  her  minoritie,  being  nothing  neere  to  consent  to 
marye.  Then  his  taking  of  the  daughters  of  the  Trce- 
zenians,  of  the  Lacedaemonians,  and  the  Amazones  (neither 
contracted  to  him,  nor  comparable  to  the  birthe  and  linadge 
of  his  owne  countrie  which  were  at  Athens,  and  descended 
of  the  noble  race  and  progenie  of  Erichtheus,  and  of 
Cecrops)  dyd  geve  men  occasion  to  suspect  that  his 
womannishenes  was  rather  to  satisfie  lust,  then  of  any 
great  love.  Romulus  nowe  in  a  contrarie  manner,  when 
his  people  had  taken  eight  hundred,  or  thereabouts,  of  the 
Sabyne  women  to  ravishe  them  :  kept  but  onely  one  for  him 
selfe  that  was  called  Hersilia,  as  they  saye,  and  delivered  the 
reste  to  his  best  and  most  honest  cittizens.  Afterwardes  by 
the  honour,  love,  and  good  entertainment  that  he  caused 
them  to  have  and  receyve  of  their  husbands,  he  chaunged 
this  violent  force  of  ravishement,  into  a  most  perfect  bonde 
and  league  of  amitie :  which  dyd  so  knyt  and  joyne  in  one 
these  two  nations,  that  it  was  the  beginning  of  the  great 
mutuall  love  which  grewe  afterwards  betwext  those  two 
people,  and  consequently  of  the  joyning  of  their  powers 
together.  Furthermore,  time  hath  geven  a  good  testimonie 
of  the  love,  reverence,  constancie,  kyndenes,  and  all  matri- 
moniall  offices  that  he  established  by  that  meanes,  betwext 
116 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

man  and  wife.     For  in  two  hundred  and  thirtie  yeres  after-  THESEUS 
wards,   there    was   never   man   that   durst   forsake    or   put         AND 
awaye  his  wife,  nor  the  wife  her  husband.     And  as  among    ,       <->  ij  li  o 
the    Grecians,    the    best    learned    men,   and    most   curious  ^  ^ ,  lyo^e 
observers  of  antiquities  doe  knowe  his  name,  that  was  the  f^^  230  yeres 
first  murderer  of  his    father  or  mother  :    even   so  all  the  space.    Val. 
Romaines  knewe  what  he  was,  which  first  durst  put  away  his  Max.  sayeth 
wife.     It  was  one  called  Spurius  Carvilius,  bicause  his  wife  '^^"• 
was  barren  and  had  no  children.     The  effects  also  doe  agree  The  first  wife 
with  the   testimonie   of  the   time.     For   the   Kealme   was  put  awaye  iu 
common    unto    Kings    of   both    nations,   and    through    the  ^^"'"p- 
alliance  of  these  manages   that  beganne   first  of  ravishe- 
ments,  both  nations  lived  peaciblie,  and  in  equalitie,  under 
one  civill  policie,  and  well  governed  common  weale.     The 
Athenians    contrariewise,   by    Theseus    mariages,    dyd    get  Theseus  ma- 
neither  love  nor  kynred  of  any  one  persone,  but  rather  they  riages  cause 
procured  warres,  enmities,  and  the  slaughter  of  their  cittizens,  of  warres  ant 
with  the  losse  in  the  ende  of  the  cittie  of  Aphidnes  :  and  yet 
very  hardely,  and  by  the  mercie  of  their  enemies  (whom  they 
honored  as  godds)  they  escaped  for  him,  the  daunger  which 
the  Troians  suffered  afterwards,  for  the  self  acte  done  by 
Alexander  Paris.     So  it  fell  out  at  the  last,  that  his  mother 
Avas  not  only  in  daunger,  but  even  feelingly  suffered  like 
miserie  and  captivitie,  which  Hecuba  dyd  afterwards,  when 
she  was  forsaken  of  her  sonne :    onles  peradventure  those 
things  that  they  write  of  the  imprisonment  and  captivitie 
of  ^thra,  be  founde  false,  and  but  fables,  as  for  the  fame 
and  memorie  of  Theseus  were  behovefull,  that  both  it,  and 
many  other  things  also,  were  of  no  more  trothe  nor  likely-  Romulus 
hood.      That  which  they  write   of  Romulus  divinements,  moie  accept- 
maketh  great  difference  betwene  him  and  Theseus.      For  ^^LV^th^*^ 
Romulus   in    his   birthe   was   preserved    by   the   marvelous  Theseus, 
favour  of  the  goddes :   Tlieseus  to  the  contrarie,  was  be- 
gotten against  the  goddes  will,  as  appeared  plainely 
by  the  aunswer  of  the  oracle  to  ^geus,  that  he 
should  not  medle  with  any  woman  in  straunge 
and  foraine  countrie. 

THE  ENDE  OF  ROMULUS  LIFE 

117 


LIVES    OF  THE   NOBLE 


THE  LIFE  OF  LYCURGUS 


Xenophon  in 
lib.  de  Lace- 
deemon.  Rep. 


Of  the  Hera- 
clides,  Pau- 
saniasj  Dio- 
dorus,  and 
Cleme.  Strom. 
lib.  I. 


MAN  can  not  speake  any  thing  at  all  of 
Lycurgus,  who  made  the  lawes  of  the 
Lacedaemonians,  but  he  shall  finde  great 
contrarietie  of  him  amongest  the  his- 
toriographers. For,  of  his  parentage 
and  travaill  out  of  his  countrie,  of  his 
deathe  and  making  of  lawes,  of  his  forme 
and  government,  and  order  of  executing 
the  same,  they  have  written  diversely.  And  yet  above  all 
things,  concerning  him,  they  agree  worst  about  the  time  he 
lived  in.  For  some  of  "tfem  (nud  AmEoEIels  of  that~~ 
number)  will  needes  have  him  to  have  bene  in  the  time  of 
Iphytus,  and  that  he  dyd  helpe  him  to  stablish  the  ordi- 
naunce  that  all  warres  should  cease  during  the  feast  of  the 
games  olympicall :  for  a  testimonie  whereof,  they  alledge  the 
copper  coyte  which  was  used  to  be  throwen  in  those  games, 
and  had  founde  graven  upon  it,  the  name  of  Lycurgus. 
Other  compting  the  dayes  and  time  of  the  succession  of  the 
kings  of  Lacedaemon  (as  Eratosthenes,  and  Apollodorus) 
saye  he  was  many  yeres  before  the  first  Olympiades.  Timaeus 
also  thincketh  there  were  two  of  this  name,  and  in  divers 
times  :  howbeit  the  one  having  more  estimation  then  the 
other,  men  gave  this  Lycurgus  the  glorie  of  both  their 
doings.  Some  saye  the  eldest  of  the  twaine,  was  not  longe 
after  Homer  :  and  some  write  they  sawe  him,  Xenophon 
sheweth  us  plainely  he  was  of  great  antiquitie :  saying  he 
was  in  the  time  of  the  Heraclides,  who  were  neerest  of 
bloude  by  descent  to  Hercules.  For  it  is  likely  Xenophon 
ment  not  those  Heraclides,  which  descended  from  Hercules 
self :  for  the  last  kings  of  Sparta  were  of  Hercules  progenie, 
aswell  as  the  first.  Therefore  he  meaneth  those  Heraclides, 
which  doubtles  were  the  first  and  nearest  before  Hercules 
time.  Nevertheles  though  the  historiographers  have  written 
diversely  of  him,  yet  we  will  not  leave  to  collect  that  which 
118 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

we  finde  written  of  him  in  auncient  histories,  and  is  least  to  LYCURGUS 
be  denied,  and  by  best  testimonies  most  to  be  prooved.  And 
first  of  all,  the  poet  Simonides  sayeth,  his  father  was  called 
Prytanis  and  not  Eunomus  ;  and  the  most  parte  doe  write 
the  pettigree  otherwise,  as  well  of  Lycurgus  self,  as  of  Euno- 
mus. For  they  saye,  that  Patrocles  the  sonne  of  Aristo-  Lycurisrus 
demus  begate  Sous,  and  Sous  begate  Eurytion,  and  Eurytion  kinred. 
begate  Prytanis,  and  Prytanis  begat  Eunomus,  and  Euno- 
mus begat  Polydectes  of  his  first  wife,  and  Lycurgus  of  the 
second  wife,  called  Dianassa:  yet  Euthychidas  an  other 
writer,  maketh  Lycurgus  the  sixte  of  descent  in  the  right 
line  from  Polydectes,  and  the  eleventh  after  Hercules.  But 
of  all  his  auncesters,  the  noblest  was  Sous,  in  whose  time  the 
cittie  of  Sparta  subdued  the  Ilotes,  and  made  them  slaves, 
and  dyd  enlarge  and  increase  their  dominion,  with  the  lands 
and  possessions  they  had  got  by  conquest  of  the  Arcadians. 
And  it  is  sayed  that  Sous  him  self  being  on  a  time  straightly 
besieged  by  the  Clitorians,  in  a  hard  drye  grounde,  where  no 
water  could  be  founde :  offered  them  thereupon  to  restore  all 
their  lands  againe  that  he  had  gotten  from  them,  if  he  and 
all  his  companie  dyd  drincke  of  a  fountaine  that  was  there  A  subtill 
not  farre  of.  The  Clitorians  did  graunte  unto  it,  and  peace  promise, 
also  was  swome  betweene  them.  Then  he  called  all  his 
souldiers  before  him,  and  tolde  them  if  there  were  any  one 
amongest  them  that  would  refrayne  from  drincking,  he 
would  resigne  his  kingdome  to  him  :  howbeit  there  was  not 
one  in  all  his  companie  that  could  (or  would)  forbeare  to 
drincke,  they  were  so  sore  a  thirst.  So  they  all  drancke 
hartely  except  him  self,  who  being  the  last  that  came  dowTie, 
dyd  no  more  but  a  litle  moyste  his  raowthe  without,  and 
so  refreshed  him  self,  the  enemies  selves  standing  by,  and 
drancke  not  a  droppe.  By  reason  whereof,  he  refused  after- 
wards to  restore  their  lands  he  had  promised,  alledging  they 
had  not  all  droncke.  But  that  notwithstanding,  he  was 
greately  esteemed  for  his  actes,  and  yet  his  house  was  not 
named  after  his  owne  name :  but  after  his  sonnes  name 
Eurytion,  they  of  his  house  were  called  Eurytionides.  The 
reason  was,  bicause  his  sonne  Eurytion  to  please  the  people, 
dyd  first  let  fall  and  geve  over,  the  sole  and  absolute  power 

119 


LIVES    OF   THE   NOBLE 


LYCURGUS  of  a  King.  Whereupon  there  followed  afterwardes  mar- 
veilous  disorder  and  dissolution,  which  continued  a  great 
time  in  the  cittie  of  Sparta,  For  the  people  finding  them 
selves  at  libertie,  became  very  bolde  and  disobedient :  and 
some  of  the  Kinges  that  succeeded,  were  hated  even  to 
deathe,  bicause  they  woulde  perforce  use  their  auncient 
authoritie  over  the  people.  Other,  either  to  winne  the 
love  and  goodwilles  of  the  people,  or  bicause  they  sawe  they 
were  not  stronge  enough  to  rule  them,  dyd  geve  them  selves 
to  dissemble.  And  this  dyd  so  muche  increase  the  peoples 
lose  and  rebellious  mindes,  that  Lycurgus  owne  father  being 
Kinge,  was  slayne  among  them.  For  one  daye,  as  he  was 
parting  a  fraye  betweene  two  that  were  fighting,  he  had 
suche  a  wounde  with  a  kytchin  knyfe,  that  he  dyed  :  and 
left  his  Realme  to  his  eldest  sonne  Polydectes,  who  dyed  also 
sone  after,  and  without  heyre  of  his  bodye  as  was  supposed. 
In  so  muche  as  every  man  thought  Lycurgus  should  be 
Kinge :  and  so  he  tooke  it  upon  him,  untill  it  was  under- 
stoode  that  his  brothers  wife  was  younge  with  childe. 
Which  thing  so  soone  as  he  perceyved,  he  published  openly, 
that  the  Realme  belonged  to  the  childe  that  should  be 
borne,  if  it  were  a  sonne.  After  this  he  governed  the 
Realme,  but  as  the  Kings  lieutenante  and  regent.  The 
Lacedfemonians  call  the  regents  of  their  Kinges  that  are 
left  within  age,  Prodicos.  Lycurgus  brothers  widowe  dyd 
send,  and  let  him  secretly  understande,  that  if  he  would 
von^^Khiffs  hi  promise  to  marye  her  when  he  should  be  King,  that  she 
ininoritie.  would  come  before  her  time,  and  either  miscarye,  or  destroye 
that  she  went  with,  Lycurgus  detestably  abhorring  this 
brutishe  and  savage  unnaturallnes  of  the  woman,  dyd  not 
reject  her  offer  made  him,  but  seemed  rather  to  be  very 
glad,  then  to  dislike  of  it.  Nevertheles  he  sent  her  worde 
againe,  she  should  not  neede  to  trye  masteryes,  with  drinckes 
and  medicines  to  make  her  come  before  her  time :  for  so 
doing,  she  might  bring  her  selfe  in  daunger,  and  be  cast 
awaye  for  ever.  Howbeit  he  advised  her  to  goe  her  full 
time,  and  to  be  brought  a  bed  in  good  order,  and  then  he 
would  finde  meanes  enough  to  make  awaye  the  childe  that 
should  be  borne.  And  so  with  suche  persuasions  he  drewe 
ISO 


ProdicoSj 
Regents,  or 
protectours  of 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

on  this  woman  to  her  full  time  of  deliverie.  But  so  soone  LYCURGU 
as  he  perceyved  she  was  neere  her  time,  he  sent  certaine  to 
keepe  her,  and  to  be  present  at  her  laboure,  commaunding 
them  that  if  she  were  brought  a  bed  of  a  daughter,  they 
should  leave  her  with  the  woman :  and  if  it  were  a  sonne, 
they  should  forthwith  bring  it  to  him,  in  what  place  so- 
ever he  was,  and  what  busines  soever  he  had  in  hand.  It 
chaunced  that  she  came  even  about  supper  time,  and  was 
''delivered  of  a  sonne.  As  he  was  sitting  at  the  table  with 
the  other  magistrates  of  the  cittie,  his  servants  entred  the 
halle,  and  presented  to  him  the  litle  babe,  which  he  tenderly 
tooke  in  his  armes,  and  sayed  openly  to  them  that  were 
present :  Beholde  my  lordes  of  Sparta,  here  is  a  Kinge  borne 
unto  us.  And  speaking  these  wordes,  he  layed  him  do\\'ne 
in  the  Kinges  place,  and  named  him  Charilaus,  as  muche  to  Charilaus, 
saye,  as  the  joye  of  the  people.  Thus  he  sawe  all  the  lookers  king  of  the 
on  rejoycing  muche,  and  might  heare  them  prayse  and  extoll  Lacedaemo- 
his  synceritie,  justice,  and  vertue.  By  this  meanes  he  raigned  jj^j  j'  di^^j. 
only  as  King,  but  eight  moneths.  From  thenceforth  he  was  siiis  Halic. 
taken  and  esteemed  so  just  and  syncere  a  man  among  the  lib.  2. 
cittizens,  that  there  were  moe  that  willingly  obeyed  him  for 
his  vertue,  then  for  that  he  was  the  Kings  regent,  or  that 
he  had  the  government  of  the  whole  Realme  in  his  hands. 
Notwithstanding  there  were  some  that  bare  him  displeasure 
and  malice,  who  sought  to  hinder  and  disgrace  his  credit, 
and  chiefly  the  friends  and  kinred  of  the  Kings  mother : 
whose  power  and  honour  were  thought  much  impayred  by 
Lycurgus  authoritie.  In  so  much,  as  a  brother  of  hers 
called  Leonidas,  entring  boldly  into  great  words  with  him 
on  a  daye,  dyd  not  sticke  to  say  to  his  face,  I  knowe  for  a 
certaintie  one  of  these  dayes  thou  wilt  be  King  :  meaning 
thereby  to  bring  him  in  suspition  with  the  cittizens.  Which 
thing  though  Lycurgus  never  ment,  yet  of  a  subtill  and 
craftie  wit  Leonidas  thought  by  geving  out  such  words, 
that  if  the  young  King  happened  to  dye  in  his  minoritie 
naturally,  it  would  be  mistrusted  that  Lycurgus  had  secretly 
made  him  awaye.  The  Kings  mother  also  gave  out  such 
like  speaches,  which  in  the  end  dyd  so  trouble  him,  with  the 
feare  he  had,  what  event  might  fall  out  thereof:  that  he 
Q  121 


1 


LYCURGUS 

Lycurgus 
travelled 
countryes. 


Thales  a  poet 
harper. 


Lycurgusjor- 
ney  into  Asia. 


LIVES   OF   THE    NOBLE 

determined  to  departe  his  countrie,  and  by  his  absence  to 
avoyde  the  suspition  that  therein  might  growe  upon  him 
any  waye.  So  he  travelled  abroade  in  the  worlde  as  a 
straunger,  untill  his  nephew  had  begotten  a  sonne  who  was 
to  succeede  him  in  his  kingdome.  He  having  with  this 
determination  taken  his  jorney,  went  first  of  all  into  Creta, 
where  he  diligently  observed  and  considered  the  manner  of 
their  living,  the  order  of  the  government  of  their  Common 
weale,  and  ever  kept  company  with  the  best,  and  ever  was 
conferring  with  the  most  learned.  There  he  founde  very 
good  lawes  in  his  judgement,  which  he  noted  of  purpose  to 
carie  home  to  his  countrie,  to  serve  when  time  should  come. 
He  founde  there  other  lawes  also,  but  of  them  he  made  no 
reckoning.  Nowe  there  was  one  man  that  above  the  rest 
was  reputed  wise  and  skilfull  in  matters  of  state  and  govern- 
ment, who  was  called  Thales :  with  whom  Lycurgus  dyd  so 
much  by  intreatie,  and  for  familier  friendshippe,  that  he 
persuaded  him  to  goe  with  him  unto  Sparta.  This  Thales 
was  called  the  Poet  Harper,  whereupon  he  had  that  title 
and  name :  but  in  effect  he  sange  all  that  the  best  and 
sufficientest  governours  of  the  worlde  could  devise.  For  all 
his  songes  were  goodly  ditties,  wherein  he  dyd  exhorte  and 
persuade  the  people  to  live  under  obedience  of  the  law,  in 
peace  and  concorde  one  with  the  other.  His  words  were  set 
out  with  such  tunes,  countenance,  and  accents,  that  were  so 
full  of  swetenes,  harmony,  and  pearsing :  that  inwardly  it 
melted  mens  heartes,  and  drue  the  hearers  of  a  love  to  like 
the  most  honest  things,  and  to  leave  all  hatred,  enmitie, 
sedition,  and  division,  which  at  that  time  reigned  sore 
among  them.  So  as  it  may  be  sayed,  he  it  was  that  pre- 
pared the  waye  for  Lycurgus,  whereby  he  afterwards  re- 
formed and  brought  the  Lacedaemonians  unto  reason.  At 
his  departing  out  of  Creta,  he  went  into  Asia,  with  intent 
(as  it  is  sayed)  to  compare  the  manner  of  life  and  pollicie  of 
those  of  Creta  (being  then  very  straight  and  severe)  with  the 
superfluities  and  vanities  of  Ionia :  and  thereupon  to  con- 
sider the  difference  betwene  their  two  manners  and  govern- 
ments, as  the  physitian  doth,  who  to  knowe  the  hole  and 
healthfull  the  better,  doth  use  to  compare  them  with  the 
122 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

sicke  and  diseased.     It  is  very  likely  it  was  there,  where  he   LYCURGUS 
first  sawe  Homers  works,  in   the   hands  of  the   heires  and 
successours  of  Cleophylus :  and  finding  in  the  same,  aswell 
many  rules  of  pollicie,  as  the  great  pleasure  of  Poets  faining, 
he  diligently  coppied  it  out,  and  made  a  volume  thereof  to 
carie  into  Grece.     It  is  true  there  was  much  fame  abroad  of  The  prayse 
Homers  poesies   among   the  Grecians,  howbeit  there  were  of  Homers 
fewe  of  them  brought  together,  but  were   scattered    here  ^''^^^^• 
and  there  in  divers  mens  hands,  in  pampflets  and  peces 
unsowed  and  without  any  order  :  but  the  first  that  brought  Homers 
them    most   to   light   among   men,    was   Lycurgus.       The  poemes  uu- 
^Egyptians  save,  that  he  was  in  their  countrie  also,  and  f^owen  to 
4.U  i   '       •         /        J      iU  a.  ui  J-  the Lrrecians, 

that  Having  lounde  there  one  notable  ordniaunce  among  brought  to 

other,  that  their  souldiers  and  men  of  warre  were  separated  light  by 
from  the  rest  of  the  people,  he  brought  the  practise  of  it  Lycurgus. 
into  Sparta :  where  setting  the  marchants,  artificers,  and 
labourers  every  one  a  parte  by  them  selves,  he  did  establish 
a  noble  Common  wealth.  So  the  ^Egyptian  historiographers, 
and  some  others  also  of  Grece  doe  write.  He  was  also  in 
Africke,  and  in  Spayne,  and  as  farre  as  India,  to  conferre 
with  the  wise  men  there,  that  were  called  the  philosophers 
of  India.  I  knowe  no  man  that  hathe  written  it,  saving 
Aristocrates,  that  was  Hipparchus  sonne.  The  Lacedae- 
monians wished  for  him  often  when  he  was  gone,  and  sent 
divers  and  many  a  time  to  call  him  home :  who  thought  their 
Kings  had  but  the  honour  and  title  of  Kings,  and  not  the 
vertue  or  majestic  of  a  prince,  whereby  they  dyd  excell  the 
common  people.  But  as  for  Lycurgus,  they  thought  of  him  ~~- 
thus  :  that  he  was  a  man  borne  to  rule,  to  commaund,  and  to 
geve  order,  as  having  in  him  a  certaine  naturall  grace  and  ' 

power,  to  drawe  men  willingly  to  obeye  him.     Moreover  the 
Kings  them  selves  Avere  not  unwilling  to  have  him  to  retume  — 
home,  bicause  they  hoped  that  his  presence  would  somwhat 
brydle,  and  restrayne  the  people  from  their  insolencie  and 
disobedience  towards  them.    Whereupon  Lycurgus  returning  Lycur^is  re- 
home  in  this  opinion  and  affection  of  men,  it  fell  out  that  he  tumeth  and 
was  no  sooner  arrived,  but  he  beganne  to  devise  howe  to  alter  chaungeth  a 
the  whole  government  of  the  common  weale,  and  throughout  wealth 
to  chaunge  the  whole  course  and  order  of  the  state :  thinck- 

123 


LYCURGUS 


Lycurgus 
counselleth 
with  the 
oracle  of 
Apollo  at 
Delphes. 


Chalceoecos, 
lunos  brasen 
temple. 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

ing  that  to  make  only  certaine  particular  lawes  were  to 
no  purpose,  but  much  like,  as  one  should  geve  some  easie 
medicine,  to  purge  an  overthrowen  bodye  with  all  humours 
and  disseases.  Therefore  he  thought  first  that  all  grosse  and 
superfluous  humours,  were  meete  to  be  dissolved  and  purged, 
and  then  afterwardes  to  geve  them  a  new  forme  and  order  of 
government.  When  he  had  thus  determined  with  him  self, 
before  he  would  take  in  hand  to  doe  any  thing,  he  went  to 
the  citty  of  Delphes  :  where  after  he  had  sacrificed  to  Apollo, 
he  consulted  with  him  about  his  matters.  From  whom  he 
returned  with  this  glorious  title  by  the  oracle  of  Pythia :  O 
beloved  of  the  goddes,  and  rather  god  then  man.  Where 
when  he  craved  grace  of  Apollo  to  establishe  good  lawes  in 
his  countrie,  it  was  aunswered  him :  that  Apollo  graunted 
his  petition,  and  that  he  should  ordaine  the  best  and  per- 
fectest  manner  of  a  Common  wealth,  that  ever  had  or  should 
be  in  the  worlde.  This  aunswer  dyd  comforte  him  very 
much,  and  so  he  beganne  to  breake  his  purpose  to  certen  of 
the  chief  of  the  cittie,  and  secretly  to  praye  and  exhorte 
them  to  helpe  him,  going  first  to  those  he  knew  to  be  his 
friends,  and  after  by  Title  and  litle  he  wanne  others  to  him, 
who  joyned  with  him  in  his  enterprise.  So  when  he  saw  the 
time  fit  for  the  matter,  he  caused  thirtie  of  the  chiefest  men 
of  the  cittie  in  a  morning  to  come  into  the  market  place 
well  appointed  and  furnished,  to  suppresse  those  that  would 
attempt  to  hinder  their  purpose.  Hermippus  the  historio- 
grapher rehearseth  twentie  of  the  chiefest :  but  he  that 
above  all  others  dyd  most  assist  him  in  his  doings,  and  was 
the  greatest  ayde  unto  the  stablishing  of  his  laM^es,  was  called 
« Arithmiadas.  The  king  Charilaus  hearing  of  this  assembly, 
dyd  feare  there  had  bene  some  conspiracie  or  insurrection 
against  his  person,  and  for  his  safety  he  fled  into  the  temple 
of  luno,  called  Chalceoecos,  as  much  to  saye,  as  lunos 
brasen  temple.  Howbeit  afterwards  when  he  knew  the 
trothe,  he  waxed  bolde,  and  came  out  of  the  temple  againe, 
and  he  him  self  favored  the  enterprise,  being  a  prince  of  a 
noble  minde,  howbeit  very  soft  by  nature,  as  witnesseth 
Archelaus  (that  was  then  the  other  king  of  Lacedaemon)  by 
telling  how  Charilaus  aunswered  one  that  praised  him  to  his 
124 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

face,  in  saying  he  was  a  good  man.     And  how  should  I  not   LYCURGU 
(quoth  he)  be  good,  when  I  cannot  be  evill  to  the  evill  ? 

In  this  chaunge  of  the  state,  many  things  were  altered  by  ^ ■ 

Lycurgus,  but  his  chiefest  alteration  was,  his  lawe  of  the  Lycurgus  in 
erection  of  a  Senate,  which  he  made  to  have  a  regall  powet  stituteth  a 
and  equall  authoritie  with  the  Kings  in  matters  of  weigh\  ^^g^^^^^f.^ 
and  importance,  and  was  (as  Plato  sayeth)  to  be  the  health-  ^ja^g 
full  counterpease  of  the  whole  bodye  of  the  Common  weale.  piafg-j;^^^ 
The  other  state  before  was  ever  wavering,  somtime  inclining 
to  tyrannic,  when  the  Kings  were  to  mightie :  and  somtime 
to   confusion,   when   the   people   would   usurpe   authoritie. 
Lycurgus  therfore  placed  betwene  the  Kings  and  the  people, 
a  counsaill  of  Senatours,  which  was  as  a  stronge  beame,  that 
helde  bothe  these  extreames  in  an  even  ballance,  and  gave 
sure  footing  and  ground  to  either  parte,  to  make  strong  the 
state  of  the  comon  weale.     For  the  eight  and  twenty  Sena- 
tours  (which  made  the  whole  bodye  of  the  Senate)  tooke 
somtime  the  Kings  parte,  when  it  was  nedefull  to  pull  downe 
the  furie  of  the  people :  and  contrarilie,  they  held  sometimes 
with  the  people  against  the  Kings,  to  bridle  their  tyrannicall 
government.     Aristotle  sayeth,  he  ordeined  the  number  of 
Senatours  to  be  but  eight  and  twenty,  bicause  tAvo  of  thirtie  23  were  the 
that  joyned  with  him  as  a  fore,  dyd  for  feare  forsake  him  at  number  oft 
his  enterprise.     Howbeit  Sphserus  writeth,  that  from   the  Senatours. 
beginning,  he  never  purposed  to  have  more  then  eight  and 
twenty  to  be  the  Senate.     And   perhappes  he  had  great 
regard  to  make  it  a  perfect  number,  considering  it  is  com- 
pounded of  the  number  of  seven,  multiphed  by  foure :  and 
is  the  first  perfect  number  next  to  sixe,  being  equall  to  all 
partes  gathered  together.     But  as  for  me,  my  opinion  is,  he 
chose  this  number  rather  then  any  other,  bicause  he  ment 
the   whole   bodye    of  the  counsaill   should    be  but  thirtie 
persones,  adding  to  that  number,  the  two  Kinges.    Lycurgus 
tooke  so  great  care  to  establishe  well  this  counsell,  that  he 
brought  an  oracle  for  it,  from  Apolloes  temple  in  Delphes. 
This  oracle  is  called  unto  this  daye  Retra,  as  who  would  Retra  of 
saye,  the  statute  oracle :  whereof  the  aunswer  was.     When  Lycur^s. 
thou  hast  built  a  temple  unto  lupiter  the  Syllanian,  and  to 
Minerva  the  Syllanian,  and  devided  the  people  into  lineages, 

125 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

LYCURGUS  thou  shalt  stablishe  a  Senate  of  thirtie  counsellers,  with  the 
two  Kings :  and  shalt  assemble  the  people  at  times  con- 
venient, in  the  place  betweene  the  bridge  and  the  river 
Cnacion  fl.  Cnacion.  There  the  Senatours  shall  propound  all  matters, 
and  breake  up  after  their  assemblies :  and  it  shall  not  be 
lawfull  for  the  people  to  speake  one  worde.  In  those  dayes 
The  open  the  people  were  ever  assembled  betweene  two  rivers,  for 
fields  appoint-  there  was  no  hall  to  assemble  a  counsaill  at  large,  nor  any 
Counsaill  other  place  prepared  for  them.  For  Lycurgus  thought  no 
buylded  place  meete  for  men  to  geve  good  counsaill  in,  or 
to  determine  causes,  but  rather  a  hinderance :  bicause  in 
such  places  men  be  drawen  to  muse  on  vaine  things,  and 
their  mindes  be  caried  awaye  wdth  beholding  the  images, 
tables,  and  pictures,  comonly  set  up  for  ornament  in  such 
open  places.  And  if  it  be  in  a  Theater,  then  beholding  the 
place  where  the  playes  and  sportes  be  made,  they  thincke 
more  of  them,  then  any  counsaill.  Againe,  if  it  be  in  a 
great  hall,  then  of  the  fayer  embowed  or  vawted  roofes,  or 
of  the  fretised  seelings  curiously  wrought,  and  sumptuously 
set  forth,  and  tend  not  still  their  busines  they  come  for. 
When  the  people  were  assembled  in  counsaill,  it  was  not 
lawfull  for  any  of  them  to  put  forth  matters  to  the  counsell 
to  be  determined,  neither  might  any  of  them  deliver  his 
opinion  what  he  thought  of  any  thinge  :  but  the  people  had 
onely  authoritie  to  geve  their  assent  (if  they  thought  good) 
to  the  things  propounded  by  the  Senatours,  •  or  the  two 
Kings.  Howbeit  afterwardes,  the  two  Kings  Polydorus  and 
Theopompus,  bicause  the  people  dyd  many  times  crosse  and 
alter  the  determination  of  the  Senate,  by  taking  away  or 
adding  some  thing  to  it,  they  dyd  adde  these  wordes  to  the 
oracle  aforesaid.  That  if  the  people  would  not  assent  to 
any  ordinaunce  of  the  Senate,  then  should  it  be  lawfull  for 
the  Kings  and  Senate  to  breake  up  the  counsell,  and  to 
frustrate  all  things  done  in  the  same  :  the  wise  advise  of  the 
Senate  being  encountered  thus,  and  their  meaning  to  the 
best,  so  perverted  to  the  worse.  These  two  Kings  persuaded 
the  people,  that  at  the  very  first,  this  addition  came  with 
the  oracle  of  Apollo  :  as  the  poet  Tyrtaeus  maketh  mention 
in  the  place,  where  he  saveth  : 
126 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

From  Delphos  He,  this  oracle  is  brought  LYCURGl 

of  Pythia  :  into  their  country  soyle. 
The  Kings  (even  they  to  whom  of  right  there  ought 

a  loving  care  in  princely  breasts  to  boyle, 

the  Spartane  vi^ealthe,  to  garde  from  every  spoyle  :) 
Shalbe  the  chief,  grave  causes  to  decyde 

with  Senatours  :  whose  sounde  advise  is  tride. 
And  next  to  them,  the  people  shall  fulfill 

asmuche  as  seemes,  to  please  their  princes  will. 

Lycurgus  now  having  thus  tempered  the  forme  of  his 
comon  weale,  it  seemed  notwithstanding  to  those  that  came 
after  him,  that  this  small  number  of  thirtie  persones  that 
made  the  Senate,  was  yet  to  mightie,  and  of  to  great  autho- 
ritie.  Wherefore  to  bridle  them  in  a  litle,  they  gave  them 
(as  Plato  sayeth)  a  bytte  in  their  mouths,  and  that  was  the 
authoritie  of  the  Ephores,  which  signifie  as  much  as  comp-  The  institu 
trollers :  and  were  erected  about  a  hundred  and  thirtie  yeres  tion  of  tlie 
after  the  death  of  Lycurgus.  The  first  which  was  chosen  of  Ephores. 
these,  was  Elatus,  and  it  was  in  the  time  of  king  Theo- 
pompus,  whose  wife  on  a  daye  in  her  anger  sayed :  howe 
throughe  his  negligence  he  would  leave  lesse  to  his  suc- 
cessours,  then  he  had  receyved  of  his  predecessours.  To 
whom  he  aunswered  againe,  Not  lesse  but  more,  for  that 
it  shall  continue  lenger,  and  with  a  more  suertie.  For,  in 
losing  thus  their  too  absolute  power,  that  wrought  them 
great  envie  and  hatred  among  their  cittizens,  they  dyd  escape 
the  daunger  and  mischief  that  their  neighbours  the  Argives, 
and  Messenians  dyd  feele :  who  would  not  geve  over  the 
soveraine  authoritie  which  they  had  gotten  once.  This 
example  maketh  Lycurgus  great  wisdome  and  foresight  Lycurgus 
manifestly  knowen  :  who  so  will  deeply  consider  the  seditions  wisdome. 
and  ill  governements  of  the  Argives,  and  Messenians  (their 
neere  neiglibours  and  kinsemen)  aswell  from  the  people,  as 
from  the  Kings.  Who  from  the  beginning  had  all  things 
alike  to  the  Spartans  :  and  in  deviding  of  their  lands  a  farre 
better  order  then  theirs.  This  notwithstanding,  they  dyd 
not  prosper  longe :  but  through  the  pryde  of  their  Kings, 
and  the  disobedience  of  their  people,  they  entred  into  civill 
warres  one  against  another,  shewing  by  their  disorders 
and  misfortunes  the  speciall  grace  the  godds  dyd  beare  to 

127 


LYCURGUS 


Lycurgus 
maketh  equall 
division  of 
laTndes  unto 
the  cittizens. 


All  the  lands 
throughe  the 
countrie  of 
Laconia,  de- 
rided into 
30000  parts. 

All  tlie  lands 
about  Sparta 
into  9000 
partes. 


What  barley 
every  parte 
did  yelde. 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

Sparta,  to  geve  them  such  a  reformer,  as  dyd  so  wisely 
temper  the  state  of  their  common  weale,  as  we  will  shewe 
hereafter.  The  second  lawe  that  Lycurgus  made,  and  the 
boldest  and  hardest  he  ever  tooke  in  hande,  was  the  making 
of  a  newe  division  of  their  lands.  For  he  sawe  so  great  a 
disorder  and  unequality  among  the  inhabitants,  aswell  of 
the  countrie,  as  of  the  citie  Lacedaemon,  by  reason  some 
(and  the  greatest  number  of  them)  were  so  poore,  that  they 
had  not  a  handfull  of  grounde,  and  other  some  being  least 
in  number  were  very  riche,  that  had  all :  he  thought  with 
him  self  to  banishe  out  of  the  cittie  all  insolencie,  envie, 
covetousnes,  and  deliciousnes,  and  also  all  riches  and  povertie, 
which  he  tooke  the  greatest,  and  the  most  continuall  plagues 
of  a  cittie,  or  common  weale.  For  this  purpose,  he  imagined 
there  was  none  so  ready  and  necessarie  a  meane,  as  to  per- 
suade his  cittizens  to  suffer  all  the  landes,  possessions,  and 
inheritance  of  their  countrie,  to  ronne  ii\jcommon  together : 
and  that  they  should  make  a  newe  division  equally  in  parti- 
tion amongest  them  selves,  to  live  from  thenceforth  as  it 
were  like  brothers  together,  so  that  no  one  were  richer  then 
another,  and  none  should  seeke  to  go  before  cache  other,  any 
other  waye  then  in  vertue  only :  thincking  there  should  be 
no  difference  or  unequalitie  among  inhabitants  of  one  cittie, 
but  the  reproaches  of  dishonestie,  and  the  prayses  of  vertue. 
Thus  Lycurgus  following  his  determination,  dyd  out  of 
hande  make  a  lawe  of  the  division  of  their  lands.  For  first 
he  dyd  devide  all  the  countrie  of  Laconia,  into  thirtie  thou- 
sand equall  partes,  the  which  he  dyd  set  out  for  those  that 
inhabited  about  Sparta :  and  of  those  landes  that  joyned 
next  to  the  cittie  of  Sparta,  that  was  the  chief  metropolitan 
cittie  of  Laconia,  he  made  other  nine  thousand  partes,  which 
he  devided  to  the  naturall  cittizens  of  Sparta,  who  be  those 
that  are  properly  called  Spartans.  Howbeit  some  will  saye, 
he  made  but  sixe  thousand  parts,  and  that  king  Polydorus 
afterwards  dyd  adde  to  other  three  thousand  partes.  Other 
saye  also,  that  Lycurgus  of  these  nine  thousand  partes  made 
but  the  halfe  onely,  and  Polydorus  the  rest.  Every  one  of 
these  partes  was  such,  as  might  yelde  unto  the  owner  yerely, 
three  score  and  tenne  bushels  of  barley  for  a  man,  and  twelve 
128 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

bushels  for  the  woman,  and  of  wine  and  other  liquide  fruites,  LYCURGUS 
much  like  in  proportion:  which  quantitie  Lycurgus  j  udged 
to  be  sufficient,  to  kepe  the  bodye  of  a  man  in  health,  and 
to  make  him  stronge  and  lustie,  without  any  further  allow- 
ance.    They  save  after  this,  as  be  returned  home  one  day 
out  of  the  fields,  and  came  over  the  lands  where  wheate 
had  bene  reaped  not  longe  before,  and  sawe  the  number  of 
sheaves  lying  in  every  shocke  together,  and  no  one  shocke 
bigger  then  another :  he  fell  a  laughing,  and  told  them  that 
were  with  him,  Me  thinks  all  Laconia  is  as  it  were  an  in- 
heritance of  many  brethern,  who  had  newly  made  partition 
together.     He  gave  an  attempt  to  have  devided  also  move- 
ables, and  to  have  made  a  common  partition  betwene  them, 
to  thend  he  would  have  utterly  taken  away  all  unequalitie. 
But  finding  the  cittizens  tooke  it  very  impatiently,  that 
openly  that  which   they  had,  should  be  taken  awaye :   he 
went  about  to  doe  it  more  secretly,  and  in  a  conninger  wise 
to  take  away  that  covetousnes.     For  first  of  all,  he  dyd 
forbid  all  co\^le  of  golde  and  sylver  to  be  currant :  and  then  Lycurgus 
"Tie  dyd  set  out  certaine  coynes  of  iron  which  he  commaunded  chauugeth  all 
only  to  be  currant,  whereof  a  great  weight  and  quantitie  S'.j    ®  ?"" 
was  but  litle  worthe.     So  as  to  laye  up  therof  the  value  of  iron  covne 
tenne  Minas,  it  would  have   occupied  a  whole  celler  in  a 
house,  besides  it  would  have  neded  a  yoke  of  oxen  to  carie 
it  any  where.     Nowe  golde  and  silver  being  thus  banished 
out  of  the  countrie,  many  lewde  partes  and  faultes  must 
needes  cease  thereby.     For  who  would  robbe,  steale,  picke, 
take  awaye,  hyde,  procure,  or  whorde  up  any  thing,  that  he 
had  no  great  occasion  to  desire,  nor  any  profit  to  possesse, 
nor  would  be  any  pleasure  to  use  or  employe.     For,  the  iron 
they  occupied  for  their  coyne,  they  cast  vineger  upon  it 
while  it  was  redde  hotte  out  of  the  fire,  to  kill  the  strength 

and  working  of  it  to  any  other  use :  for  thereby  it  was  so     ^ ^ 

eger  and  brickie,  that  it  would  byde  no  hammer,  nor  could 
be  made,  beaten,  or  forged  to  any  other  facion.     By  thig  Lycurgus 
meanes  he  banished  also,  all  superfluous  and   unprofitable  made  all 
sciences,  which  he  knew  he  should  not  neede  to  doe  by  any  sciences  and 
proclamation  :  bicause  they  would  fall  awaye  (or  the  most  value 
parte  of  them)  even  of  them  selves,  when  the  basenes  of  the 
R  129 


liTgtutA^ 


LIVES   OF   THE    NOBLE 

LYCURGUS  money  they  should  take  for  their  worke,  should  undoe  them. 
For  their  iron  moneys  were  not  currant  els  where  in  the 
citties  of  Grece,  but  every  bodye  made  a  jeste  of  it  there. 
By  this  occasion,  the  Lacedaemonians  could  buye  no  forrein 
wares  nor  marchandises,  neither  came  there  any  shippe  into 
their  haven  to  trafficke  with  them,  neither  any  fine  curious 
Rethorician  dyd  repaire  into  their  countrie  to  teache  them 
eloquence,  and  the  cunning  cast  of  lying :  nor  yet  came 
there  to  them  any  wysard  to  tell  them  their  fortune,  nor  any 
Pander  to  keepe  any  brothell  house,  nor  yet  goldsmithe  or 
jueller,  to  make  or  sell  any  toyes  or  trifles  of  golde  or  silver 
to  set  forth  women  :  considering  all  these  things  are  used  to 
be  made  to  get  money,  and  to  hourd  up  that  they  had  not. 
After  this  sorte,  delicatenes  that  wanted  many  things  that 
entertained  it,  beganne  by  litle  and  litle  to  vanishe  awaye,  and 
lastely,  to  fall  of  from  them  selves  :  when  the  most  riche  men 
had  no  more  occasion  then  the  poorest,  and  riches  having 
no  meane  to  shewe  her  selfe  openly  in  the  worlde,  was  fayne 
to  remaine  shut  at  home  idely,  as  not  able  to  doe  her  master 
any  service.  Thereupon  moveables  and  householde  stuffe 
(which  a  man  cannot  be  without,  and  must  be  daylie  occu- 
pied) as  bedsteades,  tables,  chayers,  and  suche  like  necessaries 
for  house,  were  excellently  well  made  :  and  men  dyd  greatly 
prayse  the  facion  of  the  Laconian  cuppe  which  they  called 
Cothon  a  Cothon,  and  specially  for  a  souldier  in  the  warres,  as  Critias 

straunp^ekinde  ^y^s  wont  to  saye.  For  it  was  made  after  such  a  facion,  that 
the  culler  of  it  dyd  let  the  eye  to  discerne  the  fowle  and 
unwholsome  water,  which  men  are  driven  oftetimes  to  drinke 
in  a  campe,  and  goeth  many  times  against  ones  stomake  to 
see  it :  and  if  by  chaunce  there  was  any  filth  or  mudde  in 
the  bottome,  it  would  cleave  and  sticke  fast  upon  the  ribbes 
of  the  bellie,  and  nothing  came  through  the  necke,  but 
cleane  water  to  his  mouth  that  drancke  it.  The  reformer  of 
their  state  was  the  cause  of  all  this :  bicause  their  artificers 
tending  now  no  superfluous  works,  were  occupied  about  the 
making  of  their  most  necessary  things.  Further,  nowe  to 
drive  awaye  all  superfluitie  and  deliciousnes,  and  to  roote 
out  utterly  desire  to  get  and  gather :  heTflade  another  thirde 
lawe  for  eating  and  drincking,  and  against  feastes  and 
130 


of  cuppe  of 
the  Lacedae- 
monian soul 
diers. 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

banckcts.  First  he  willed  and  commaunded  the  cittizens,  LYCURGITS 
that  they  should  eate  together  all  of  one  meate,  and  chiefly  Lycurgus 
of  those  he  had  permitted  by  his  ordinance.  Then  he  dyd  appointeth 
expressely  forbid  them  to  eate  alone,  or  a  parte,  or  secretly  ^''der  for  dyel 
by  them  selves,  upon  riche  tables  and  sumptuous  beddes,  dsmonians*'^ 
abusing  the  labour  of  excellent  worcke  men,  and  the  devises 
of  likerous  cookes  to  cramme  them  selves  in  corners,  as  they  "^"-~ — ■ 
doe  fatte  up  beastes  and  poultrie,  which  doth  not  only  breede 
ill  conditions  in  the  minde,  but  dothe  marre  the  complexions 
of  men,  and  the  good  states  of  their  bodie,  when  they  give 
them  selves  over  to  such  sensualitie  and  gluttonie.  Whereof 
it  foUoweth  in  the  ende  that  men  must  needes  sleepe  muche, 
to  helpe  to  digest  the  excesse  of  meates  they  have  taken, 
and  then  must  they  goe  to  the  whotte  houses  to  bathe  them 
selves,  and  spend  long  time  about  the  ordinarie  attendance 
of  their  sickely  bodyes.  This  was  a  marveilous  thing  for 
him  to  bring  to  passe,  but  much  more,  to  make  riches  not 
to  be  stolen,  and  least  of  all  to  be  coveted,  as  Theophrastus 
sayd  of  him  :  which  by  this  meanes  of  making  them  eate  to- 
gether with  all  sobriety  at  their  ordinarie  dyet,  was  brought 
to  passe.  For  there  was  no  more  meane  to  the  riche,  then 
to  the  poore,  to  use  to  playe,  or  shewe  riches,  sithe  both  of 
them  were  forced  to  be  together  in  one  place,  and  to  eate 
all  of  one  meate :  so  as  that  which  is  commonly  spoken,  that 
Pluto  the  god  of  riches  is  blinde,  was  truely  verified  only  in 
the  cittie  of  Sparta,  above  all  other  places  of  the  worldc.  For 
there  riches  was  layed  on  the  grounde  like  a  corse  without  a 
soule,  that  moveth  no  whit  at  all :  considering  it  was  not 
lawfull  for  any  man  to  eate  at  home  secretly  in  his  house, 
before  he  came  to  their  open  halles,  nor  might  not  come 
thither  for  a  countenance  only  to  his  meales,  being  already 
fedde  and  full  fraight.  For  every  mans  eye  was  upon 
those  specially  which  did  not  eate  and  drincke  with  a  good 
stomake  amongest  them :  and  it  was  the  use  to  reproche 
them  as  gluttons,  and  dayntie  mouthed  men,  which  refused 
to  eate  as  it  were  in  common  together.  So  as  this  was  the 
ordinance  they  saye,  that  grieved  most  the  riche  above  all 
that  Lycurgus  made,  and  whereat  they  were  most  madde  and 
angrie  with  him  :  in  so  muche,  as  on  a  daye,  they  all  setting 

131 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

LYCURGUS  upon  him  to  alter  it,  he  was  compelled  to  ronne  out  of  the 
market  place,  and  getting  grounde  of  them,  he  recovered 
the  liberties  of  a  churche,  before  any  could  overtake  him : 
saving  one  young  man  called  Alcander,  who  otherwise 
had  no  ill  nature  in  him,  but  that  he  was  somewhat 
quicke  of  his  hande,  and  cholericke  with  all.  Who  fol- 
lowing Lycurgus  nerer  then  any  other,  dyd  geve  him  a 
Alcander  blowe  overthwart  the  face  with  a  staffe,  and  strake  out 
strooke  out  one  of  his  eyes,  as  Lycurgus  turned  toward  him.  Yet  for 
Lycurgus  eye.  ^H  this,  Lycurgus  never  bashed  or  made  worde  at  the  matter, 
but  dyd  lifte  up  his  head  to  those  that  followed  him,  and 
shewed  them  his  face  all  a  gore  bloude,  and  his  eye  put  out 
cleane :  whereof  they  were  all  so  sore  ashamed,  that  there 
was  not  a  man  that  durst  once  open  his  mouth  against  him, 
but  to  the  contrarie,  they  seemed  to  pittie  him,  and  dyd 
deliver  Alcander  into  his  handes  that  had  done  the  dede,  to 
punishe  him  as  him  selfe  pleased.  And  so  they  all  brought 
him  to  his  house,  and  shewed  they  were  right  hartely  sorie 
for  his  hurte.  Lycurgus  thancking  them,  returned  them  all 
backe  againe,  save  that  he  made  Alcander  to  goe  with  him 
Lycurgus  into  his  house,  where  he  never  hurte  him,  nor  gave  him 
pacience  and  fowle  worde :  but  commaunded  him  onely  to  waite  upon 
gentlenes.  }i[xn,  and  made  his  other  ordinarie  servaunts  to  withdraw 
their  waiting.  This  young  man  who  now  beganne  to  spye 
his  owne  faulte,  dyd  most  willingly  attend  upon  him,  and 
never  spake  worde  to  the  contrarie.  When  he  had  served 
him  a  certaine  time,  being  very  nere  continually  about  him, 
he  beganne  to  feele  and  taste  of  his  naturall  liberalitie,  and 
sawe  of  what  affection  and  intention  Lycurgus  was  moved  to 
doe  all  he  dyd :  he  perceyved  what  was  the  severitie  of  his 
ordinary  life,  and  what  his  constancy  was  to  endure  labour 
without  wearines.  Alcander  then  beganne  to  love  and 
honour  Lycurgus  from  his  harte,  and  tolde  his  parents  and 
friends,  howe  he  was  no  suche  severe  man  as  he  seemed,  but 
was  of  so  kynde  and  gentle  a  nature  to  all  men  as  might  be. 
See  I  praye  you  howe  Alcander  was  transformed  by  Lycurgus, 
and  his  punishement  also,  which  he  should  have  receyved : 
for  of  a  fierce,  rashe,  and  a  lewde  conditioned  youth  he  was 
before,  he  became  nowe  a  very  grave  and  wise  man.  But  for 
182 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

memoric  of  this  his  misfortune,  Lycurgus  built  a  temple  to  LYCURGUS 
Minerva,  which  he  surnamed  Optiletide,  bicause  the  Dorians  Minerva 
which  dwell  in  those  partes  of  Peloponnesus,  doe  call  the  eyes,  optUetide. 
optiles.      There  are  other  writers  (as  Dioscorides  for  one) 
which  saye  Lycurgus  had  a  blowe  with  a  staife,  but  he  had 
not  his  eye  striken  out  with  it :    and  how  contrariwise,  he 
founded  this  temple  to  Minerva,  to  give  her  thanckes  for 
healing  of  his  eye.     Hereof  it  came,  that  ever  since  the 
Spartans  have  bene  restrayned  to  carie  staves  in  any  as- 
sembly of  counsell.    But  to  returne  to  their  common  repastes, 
which  the  Cretans  called  Andria,  and  the  Lacedaemonians  p^fj!^.^^^ 
Phiditia,  either  bicause  they  were  places  wherein  they  learned  n^gaies"„.iiy 
to  live  soberly  and  straightly  (for  in  the  Greke  tongue  Phido,  g^  called.  " 
is  to  save  and  spare)  or  els  bicause  their  amitie  and  friend- 
shippe  grewe  there  towards  one  another,  as  if  they  would 
have  called  them  Philitia,  '  feasts  of  love,'  by  chaunging  d 
into  L :  It  maye  be  also  they  added  the  first  letter  as  super- 
fluous, and  meant  to  call  the  places  Editia,  bicause  they  dyd 
eate  and  drincke  there.     They  sat  in  their  halles  by  fifteene 
in  a  companie,  litle  more  or  lesse,  and  at  the  beginning  of 
every  moneth  every  one  brought  a  bushell  of  meale,  eight 
gallons  of  wine,  five  pound  of  cheese,  and  two  pound  and  a 
halfe  of  figges  for  a  man,  besides  some  litle  portion  of  their 
monye  to  buye  certaine  freshe  acates.     And  over  and  above 
all  this,  every  man  when  he  dyd  sacrifice  in  his  house,  was 
bounde  to  send  the  best  and  chief  est  things  of  his  sacrifice  to 
the  halles  to  be  eaten.     Likewise  if  any  man  went  an  hunt- 
ing, and  killed  any  venison  :  it  was  an  order,  he  should  send 
a  pece  of  the  fleshe  thither.     Having  these  two  lawfull  causes, 
they  might  eate  and  drinke  by  them  selves  at  home,  either 
when  they  sacrificed  any  beast  to  the  goddes,  or  when  they 
came  late  home  from  hunting :  otherwise  they  were  bounde 
of  necessitie  to  meete  in  their  halles  at  meales,  if  they  would 
eate  any  thing.      This  order  they  kept  very  straightly  a 
great  time :  in  so  muche  as  king  Agis  on  a  daye,  returning 
from  the  warres,  where  he  had  overthrowen  the  Athenians, 
and  being  desirous  to  suppe   at  home  privately  with  the 
Queene  his  wife,1ie  sent  to  the  halles  for  his  portion.     But 
the  Polemarchi,  that  be  certaine  officers  assisting  the  Kings 

133 


LYCURGUS 


Children  were 
brought  to 
these  meales. 


The  propertie 
of  a  Lacedffi- 
monian. 


The  order  of 
receiving  any 
man  into  their 
company  at 
meales. 


The  blacke 
broth. 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

in  the  warres,  dyd  denye  him.  The  next  daye  Agis  left  of 
for  spight,  to  doe  the  accustomed  sacrifice  they  were  wont  to 
celebrate  in  the  ende  of  every  warre :  whereupon  they  set  a 
fine  on  his  head,  and  condemned  him  to  paye  it.  The  young 
children  also  went  to  these  repasts,  even  as  they  should  goe 
to  schooles  to  learne  gravity  and  temperaunce,  where  they 
heard  wise  and  grave  discourses  touching  the  government  of 
a  common  weale,  but  not  of  masters  that  were  as  hierlinges. 
There  they  learned  pretylie  •  to  playe  upon  wordes,  and  plea- 
sauntly  to  sporte  one  with  another,  without  any  broade 
speaches,  or  uncomely  Jestes,  and  at  others  handes  to  beare 
the  same  againe,  without  choller  or  anger.  For  this  pro- 
pertie have  the  Lacedaemonians  above  all  other,  to  take  and 
geve  a  mocke  without  any  offence  :  nevertheles,  if  any  mans 
nature  could  not  beare  it,  he  neded  but  praye  the  partie  to 
forbeare  his  jesting,  and  so  he  lefte  it  straight.  And  it  was 
ever  an  ordinarie  among  them,  that  the  eldest  of  the  com- 
panie  tolde  the  rest  that  were  come  into  the  hall  to  meale, 
with  shewing  them  of  the  dore :  Sirs,  remember,  there  goeth 
not  a  worde  here  out  of  this  dore.  Even  so  he  that  would 
be  receyved  to  meale  there  in  their  companie,  must  first  of 
necessitie  be  allowed  and  receyved  in  this  sorte,  by  all  the 
rest.  Every  one  of  them  tooke  a  litle  balle  of  branne  or 
dowe  to  washe  their  handes  with,  and  without  ever  a  word 
speaking,  they  threwe  it  into  a  basen,  which  the  servant  that 
waited  on  them  at  the  table  dyd  carie  upon  his  head :  he 
that  was  contented  the  other  should  be  receyved  in  com- 
panie, dyd  cast  in  his  balle  as  he  dyd  receyve  it,  but  if  he 
misliked  him,  then  he  pressed  it  flat  betwene  his  fingers, 
and  threwe  it  in.  This  ball  of  branne  thus  pressed  flat  was 
asmuch  as  a  beane  bored  thorough,  and  was  to  them  a  signe  of 
condemnation.  If  any  one  balle  were  found  of  this  sorte,  the 
suter  was  rejected :  for  they  would  not  have  any  enter  into 
their  companie,  that  was  not  liked  of  all  the  rest.  He  that 
thus  was  rejected,  they  saye  he  was  discadded  :  for  the  basin 
wherein  the  litle  balles  were  caried,  was  called  Caddos. 
The  best  dishe  they  served  at  these  meales,  was  that  they 
call  their  blacke  brothe :  so  that  when  they  had  that,  the 
olde  men  dyd  eate  no  fleshe,  but  lefte  it  all  to  the  younge 
1S4 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

men,  and  they  by  them  selves  dyd  eate  the  brothe.     There   LYCURGUJ 

was  a  king  of  Pontus,  that  being  desirous  to  taste  of  this  Cicero  callet' 

blacke  broth,  dyd  buye  of  purpose  a  Lacedaemonian  cooke  :  this  King, 

but  after  he  had   once  tasted  thereof,  he  was  very  angry  yionysius  th 

straight.     The  cooke  then  sayed  unto  him :  And  it  please  / 

your  grace,  ere  one  shall  finde  this  brothe  good,  he  must  be 

washed  first  in  the  river  Eurotas.     After  they  had  eate  and 

druncke  thus   soberly   together,  every   one   repaired    home 

without  any  light :  for  it  was  not  lawfull  for  them  to  goe 

thither,  nor  any  where  els  with  light,  bicause  they  should 

accustome  them  selves  boldely  to  goe  up  and  downe  the 

darcke,  and  all  about  in  the  night.     This  was  the  order  and 

manner  of  their  meales.     But  here  is  specially  to  be  noted, 

that  Lycurgus  would  in  no  wise  have  any  of  his  lawes  put  in  Lycurgus 

writing.     For  it  is  expressely  set  downe  in  his  lawes  they  call  would  not 

Retra,  that  none  of  his  lawes  should  be  written.     For  he  ,  ^^^       . 

thought  that  which  should  chiefly  make  a  cittie  happie,  and  otherwise 

vertuous,  ought  throughly  by  education  to  be  printed  in  then  in  mens 

mens  heartes  and  manners,  as  to  have  continuaunce  for  ever :  myndes. 

which  he  tooke  to  be  love  and  good  will,  as  a  farre  stronger 

knot  to  tye  men  with,  then  any  other  compulsary  lawe.  Which 

when  men  by  use  and  custome  through  good  education  doe 

take  in  their  childhoode,  it  maketh  every  man  to  be  a  lawe 

to  him  selfe.     Furthermore,  concerning  buying  and  bargan- 

ing  one  with  another,  which  are  but  trifles,  and  sometime 

are  chaunged    in  one  sorte,  and  sometime  in  another,  as 

occasion  serveth  :  he  thought  it  best  not  to  constrayne  them 

to  doe  it  by  writing,  nor  to  establishe  customes  that  might 

not  be  altered,  but  rather  to  leave  them  to  the  libertie  and 

discretion  of  men  which  had  bene  brought  up  in  the  same, 

bothe  to  take  awaye,  and  to  adde  therein,  as  the  case  and 

time   should   require.      But  to   conclude,   he   thought   the 

chiefest  pointe  of  a  good  lawe  maker  or  reformer  of  the 

common  weale  was,  to  cause  men  to  be  well  brought  up  and 

instructed.     One  of  his  ordinaunces  therefore  was  expressely, 

that  not  one  of  his  lawes  should  be  written.     Another  of  his 

devises  was,  against  superfluous  charges  and  expences :  which  Retra,  for  ex 

to  avoyde,  he  made  a  lawe  that  all  roofes  of  houses  should  *^®^^^  *^^  '">'•** 

be  made  only  with  the  axe,  and  all  gates  and  doores  witli 

135        " 


LIVES    OF  THE   NOBLE 

LYCURGUS    the  sawe,  and  that  without  any  other  toole  of  occupation. 
Wherein  he  had  the  like  imagination  as  afterwards  Epami- 
Epaminondas  nondas  had,  when  he  sayed,  speaking  of  his  table :  Such  a 
saying.            borde  never  receyveth  any  treason.    Even  so  thought  Lycur- 
gus,  that  such  a  buylt  house  would  never  receyve  curiositie 
;    or  daintines.     For  no  man  is  so  maddely  disposed  or  simple 
'\   witted,  as  to  bring  into  so  poore  and  meane  houses,  bed- 
steades  with  silver  feete,  imbrodered  coverlettes,  or  counter- 
i    poyntes  of  purple  silke,  neither  yet  plate  of  golde  nor  of 
{     silver,  nor  suche  other  like  costly  furniture  and  finenes,  as 
)>    those  things  require  to  wayte  upon  them  :  bicause  the  beddes 
;■    must  be  aunswerable  to  the  meanenes  of  the  house,  the  furni- 
'     tures  of  the  beddes  must  be  sutelike  to  the  same,  and  all 
other  householde  stuffe,  dyet,  meate,  and  drinke  agreable  to 
the  rest.     Hereof  proceeded  that,  which   Leontychidas  the 
first  King  of  that  name,  sayed  once  :  who  supping  on  a  time 
in  the  cittie  of  Corinthe,  and  seeing  the  roofe  of  the  hall 
where  he  satte,  sumptuously  embowed  and  carved,  he  asked 
straight  if  the  trees  dyd  growe  carved  so  in  that  countrie. 
The  third  lawe  was,  he  dyd  forbyd  them  to  make  warre 
often  with  one  enemie,  lest  the  enemie  forced  to  take  often 
armes   in   hande,    might   in   the  ende  growe  experter  and 
vallianter  then  they.      For  this  cause  king  Agesilaus  was 
greatly  blamed,  who  was  a  longe  time  after.     For  by  making 
often  warres  with   the   countrie  of  Boeotia,  he  made  the 
Thebans  in  the  ende  as  expert  and  valliant  souldiers,  as  the 
Lacedaemonians.     Whereupon  Antalcidas  seeing  him  hurte 
Antalcidas        one  daye,  sayed  unto  him :    The  Thebans  have  nobely  re- 
saying,             warded  thee  for  their  learning,  sith  thou  hast  made  them 
expert  soldiers  unwilling  to  learne  the  discipline  of  warre. 
These  be  the  lawes  Lycurgus  selfe  called  Retra,  and  signifie 
as  muche  as  Oracles,  that  the  god  Apollo  had  discovered  to 
him.      Nowe  the  education  of  children,  he  esteemed    the 
chief  est  and  greatest  matter,  that  a  reformer  of  lawes  should 
establishe.      Therefore  beginning  a  farre  of,  he  first  con- 
sidered the  state  of  mariage,  and  the  generation  of  children. 
For  Aristotle  sayeth,  that  Lycurgus  dyd  attempt  to  reforme 
women,  and  dyd  soone  geve  it  over  againe  :  bicause  he  could 
doe  no  good  therein,  by  reason  of  the  great  libertie  they  had 
136  '  ^ 


King  Leonty- 
chidas saying. 

Retra  for 
warres. 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

taken  by  the  absence  of  their  husbands  in  the  warres,  com-   LYCURGUS 
pelled  often  so  to  be  abroade,  and  that  they  dyd  leave  them 
mistresses  of  their  house,  and  at  their  returne  dyd  honour 
them  so  muche,  and  make  of  them  so  beyond  e  measure,  with 
calling  them  ladyes  and  mistresses.     Howbeit  this  is  true, 
that  he  had  an  eye  to  the  rule  and  order  of  their  life,  aswell 
as  he  had  of  mens  :  and  so  reason  dyd  require.     First  of  all,  The  disciplini 
he  willed  that  the  maydens  should  harden  their  bodyes  with  of  women 
exercise  of  running,  wrestling,  throwe  the  barre,  and  casting  ^"^o^^est     e 
the  darte,  to  the  ende  that  the  fruite  wherewith  they  might  njans.  Arist. 
be  afterwardes  conceyved,  taking  norishement  of  a  stronge  poHt.  lib.  7. 
and  lustie  bodye,  should  shoote  out  and  spread  the  better :  cap.  17. 
and  that  they  by  gathering  strength  thus  by  exercises,  should 
more  easely  awaye  withe  paynes  of  childe  bearing.     And  to 
take  awaye  from  them  their  womanishe  dayntines,  and  fines.  The  exercises 
he  brought  up  a  custome,  for  young  maydes  and  boyes  to  ^^^  disciplin 
goe  as  it  were  a  precession,  and  to  daunce  naked  at  solemne  ^  ^^^  ^^' 
feastes  and  sacrifices,  and  to  singe  certaine  songes  of  their 
owne  making,  in  the  presence  and  sight  of  young  men.     To 
whom  by  the  waye  they  gave  many  times  prety  mockes  of 
purpose,  as  pleasauntly  hitting  them  home,  for  things  wherein 
before  they  had  forgotten  their  dueties :  and  sometimes  also 
in  their  songe  for  their  vertues,  wittes,  or  manners,  they 
praysed  them  which  had  deserved  it.     By  this  meanes,  they 
dyd  set  young  mens  hartes  a  fire,  to  strive  to  winne  most 
prayse  and  honour.     For  who  so  was  praysed  of  them  for  a 
valliant  man,  or  whose  worthy  actes  were  songe  by  them,  he 
thereby  was  incoraged  to  doe  the  better  another  time :  and 
the  pretie  girdes  and  quippes  they  gave  to  others,  was  of  no 
lesse  force,  then  the  sharpest  wordes  and  admonitions  that 
otherwise  could  be  geven  them.     This  tooke  place  the  rather, 
bicause  it  was  done  in  the  presence  of  the  Kings,  the  Sena- 
tours,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  cittizens  which  came  thither  to 
see  these  sportes.     And  though  the  maydes  dyd  shewe  them 
selves  thus  naked  openly,  yet  was  there  no  dishonesty  scene 
nor  offred,  but  all  this  sporte  was  full  of  playe  and  toyes, 
without  any  youthfull  parte  or  wantonnes :  and  rather  caried 
a  shewe  of  demurenes,  and  a  desire  to  have  their  best  made 
bodyes  scene  and  spyed.     Moreover,  it  somewhat  lifted  up 
S  137 


LYCURGUS 


The  saying  of 
a  Laconian 
woman. 


Men  that 
would  not 
marye,  Lycur- 
gus  reputed 
infamous  by 
lawe. 


Matrimoniall 
ceremonies  in 
Lacedsemon. 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

their  hartes,  and  made  them  noblier  minded,  by  geving  them 
to  understand,  that  it  was  no  lesse  comely  for  them,  in  their 
k3nide  and  exercises  to  carie  the  bell,  then  it  was  for  men  in 
their  games  and  exercises  to  carie  the  price.  Hereof  it 
came,  that  the  women  of  Lacedaemon  were  so  bolde  to  saye, 
and  thincke  of  them  selves  that,  which  Gorgona  the  wife  of 
king  Leonidas  one  daye  aunswered :  being  in  talke  with  a 
straunge  woman  that  sayed  to  her :  There  be  no  women  in 
the  worlde  that  commaund  their  husbands,  but  you  wives  of 
Lacedaemon.  Whereto  the  Queene  straight  replyed  :  So  be 
there  no  women  but  we,  which  bringe  forth  men.  Further- 
more, these  playes,  sportes,  and  daunses,  the  maydes  dyd 
naked  before  younge  men,  were  provocations  to  drawe  and 
allure  the  young  men  to  marye :  not  as  persuaded  by  geo- 
metrical! reasons,  as  sayeth  Plato,  but  brought  to  it  by 
liking,  and  of  very  love.  Those  which  would  not  marye,  he 
made  infamous  by  lawe.  For  it  was  not  lawfull  for  suche 
to  be  present,  where  these  open  games  and  pastimes  were 
shewed  naked.  Furthermore,  the  officers  of  the  cittie  com- 
pelled suche  as  would  not  marye,  even  in  the  hardest  time  of 
the  winter,  to  environne  the  place  of  these  sportes,  and  to 
goe  up  and  downe  starcke  naked,  and  to  singe  a  certaine 
songe  made  for  the  purpose  against  them,  which  was :  that 
justely  were  they  punished,  bicause  that  lawe  they  disobeyed. 
Moreover,  when  suche  were  olde,  they  had  not  the  honour 
and  reverence  done  them,  which  old  maried  men  usually 
received.  Therefore  there  was  no  man  that  misliked,  or 
reproved  that,  which  was  spoken  to  Dercillidas :  albeit 
otherwise  he  was  a  noble  captaine.  For,  comming  into  a 
presence,  there  was  a  young  man  which  would  not  vowche- 
safe  to  rise  and  doe  him  reverence,  nor  to  geve  him  place  for 
to  sit  downe  :  And  worthely,  quoth  he,  bicause  thou  hast  not 
gotten  a  sonne,  who  maye  doe  so  muche  for  me  in  time  to 
come.  Those  which  were  desirous  to  marie  any,  were  driven 
to  take  them  awaye  by  force  whom  they  would  marie,  not 
litle  younge  wenches  I  meane,  which  were  not  of  age  to  be 
maried  :  but  lustie  and  strong  maides  of  age  to  beare  chil- 
dren. And  when  one  of  them  was  stolen  awaye  in  this  sorte, 
she  that  was  privie  thereto,  and  meane  to  make  the  mariage, 
138 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

came  and  shaved  the  heares  of  her  head  that  was  maried :   LYCURGUS 
then  she  put  her  into  mans  apparell,  and  gave  her  all  things 
sute  like  to  the  same,  and  layed  her  upon  a  matteresse  all 
alone,  without  light  or  candell.     After  this  was  done,  the 
bridegroome,  being  neither  droncke  nor  finelier  apparrelled 
then  he  was  wonte  to  be,  but  having  supped  soberly  at  his 
ordinarie,  came  home  secretly  to  the  house  where  the  bride 
was :   and  there  untied  his  wives  girdell,  tooke  her  in  his 
amies,  layed  her  upon  a  bed,  and  talked  together  a  while, 
and  afterwards  fayer  and  softely  stole  awaye  to  the  place, 
where  he  was  wonte  to  sleepe  with  other  young  men.     And 
so  from  thenceforth,  he  continued  allwayes  to  doe  the  like, 
being  all  the  daye  time,  and  sleeping  most  of  the  night, 
with  his  companions,  onles  he  sometime  stale  to  see  his  wife, 
being  affrayed,  and  ashamed  ever  to  be  scene,  by  any  of  the 
house  where  she  was.     And  hereunto  his  younge  wife  did 
helpe  for  her  parte,  to  spye  meanes  and  occasions  howe  they 
might   mete   together,   and   not   be   scene.      This    manner 
endured   a   great  while,   and   untill   somme   of  them   had 
children,  before  they  boldely  met  together,  and  sawe  cache 
other  on  the  daye  time.     This  secret  meeting  in  this  sorte 
did  serve  to  good  purposes,  not  only  bicause  it  was  some 
meane  of  continencie  and  shamefastnes,   but  also   it  kept 
their  bodies  in  strength  and  better  state,  to  bring  forth 
children.     It  continued  also  in  both  parties,  a  still  burning  Holsomerule: 
love,  and  a  newe  desire  of  the  one  to  the  other,  not  as  it  were  ^^^  maned 
luke  warme,  nor  wearie,  as  theirs  commonly  be  which  have       ^ 
their  bellies  full  of  love,  and  as  muche  as  they  lust :  but 
they  ever  parted  with  an  appetite  one  from  another,  keeping 
still  a  longing  desire  to  devise  howe  to  mete  againe.     Nowe 
when  he  had  stablished  suche  a  continencie,  and  so  kynde  a 
framed  honestie  in  mariage,  he  tooke  no  lesse  care  to  drive 
awaye  all  foolishe  jealousie  therein,  thinking  it  very  good  Lycur^s  re- 
reason  to  beware  there  should  be  no  violence,  nor  confusion  pj'd  to  avoyd 
in  mariage:   and  yet  as  reason  would,  they  should  suffer  ■^^^g*^^^^^"^ 
those  which  were  worthie  to  get  children  as  it  were  in  com-  wealth, 
mon,  laughing  at  the  mad  follie  of  them  which  revenge  such 
things  with  warre  and  bloudshed,  as  though  in  that  case 
men  in  no  wise  should  have  no  fellowshippe  together.   There- 

139 


ii 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

LYCURGUS  fore  a  man  was  not  to  be  blamed,  being  stepped  in  yeres, 
and  having  a  young  wife,  if  seeing  a  fayer  young  man  that 
liked  him,  and  knowen  with  all  to  be  of  a  gentle  nature,  he 
brought  him  home  to  get  his  wife  with  childe,  and  after- 
wardes  would  avowe  it  for  his,  as  if  him  selfe  had  gotten  it. 
It  was  lawfull  also  for  an  honest  man  that  loved  another 
mans  wife,  for  that  he  sawe  her  wise,  shamefast,  and  bring- 
ing forth  goodly  children,  to  intreate  her  husband  to  suffer 
him  to  lye  with  her,  and  that  he  might  also  plowe  in  that 
lustie  grounde,  and  cast  abroade  the  seede  of  well  favored 
children :  which  by  this  meanes  came  to  be  common  in 
bloude  and  parentage,  ^vith  the  most  honorable  and  honestest 
persones.  For  first  of  all,  Lycurgus  did  not  like  that  children 
should  be  private  to  any  men,  but  that  they  should  be 
common  to  the  common  weale :  by  which  reason  he  would 
also,  that  such  as  should  become  cittizens,  should  not  be 
begotten  of  every  man,  but  of  the  most  honestest  men  only. 
So  Lycurgus  thought  also  there  were  many  foolishe  vaine 
toyes  and  fansies,  in  the  lawes  and  orders  of  other  nations, 
touching  mariage :  seeing  they  caused  their  bitches  and 
mares  to  be  limed  and  covered  with  the  fayrest  dogges  and 
goodliest  stalons  that  might  be  gotten,  praying  or  paying 
the  masters  and  o^vners  of  the  same :  and  kept  their  wives 
notwithstanding  shut  up  safe  under  locke  and  key,  for  feare 
least  other  then  them  selves  might  get  them  with  childe, 
although  they  were  sickely,  feeble  brayned,  and  extreme 
olde.  As  if  it  were  not  first  of  all,  and  chiefly  a  dis- 
commoditie  to  the  fathers  and  mothers,  and  likewise  to 
those  that  bring  them  up,  to  have  unperfect  and  feeble 
children  borne,  as  it  were  begotten  of  drie  and  withered 
men :  and  then  to  the  contrarie,  what  pleasure  and  benefit 
is  it  to  those  that  have  fayer  and  good  children  borne, 
as  gotten  of  like  seede  and  men.  These  things  were  done 
then  by  naturall  and  civill  reason,  nevertheles  they  saye 
women  were  so  farre  of  then  from  intreatie,  as  ever  they 
were  before :  so  as  in  olde  time,  in  Sparta,  men  knew  not 
what  adulterie  ment.  For  proofe  whereof,  the  aunswer  made 
by  Geradas  (one  of  the  first  auncient  Spartans)  unto  a 
straunger,  maye  be  alledged  :  that  asked  him,  what  punishe- 
140 


No  adultrie 
showen  in 
Sparta. 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

ment  they  had  for  adulterers.    My  friend,  quoth  he,  there  be   LYCURGUS 
none  here.     But  if  there  were  ?  replied  the  straunger  againe. 
Marye  sayed  he,  then  he  must  paye  as  great  a  bull,  as  stand- 
ing upon  the  toppe  of  the  mountaine  Taygetus,  maye  drincke 
in  the  river  of  Eurotas.     Yea  marye  :  but  howe  is  it  possible 
(quoth  the  straunger)  to  finde  such  a  bull  ?     Geradas  laugh- 
ing, aunswered  him  againe :  And  howe  were  it  possible  also 
to  finde  an  adulterer  in  Sparta  ?     And  this  is  that  which  is 
found  of  Lycurgus  lawes  touching  mariages.     Furthermore, 
after  the  birthe  of  every  boye,  the  father  was  no  more  master  Theeducatioi 
of  him,  to  cocker  and  bring  him  up  after  his  will :  but  he  of  children 
him  selfe  caried  him  to  a  certaine  place  called  Lesche,  where  with  the  Lace 
the  eldest  men  of  his  kinred  being  set,  did  viewe  the  childe.    *"VQ5iaiis> 
And  if  they  founde  him  fayer,  and  well  proportioned  of  all  his  ^^^^"^*  J 
limmes,  and  stronge  :  they  gave  order  he  should  be  brought    ^""-^ — ^ 
up,  and  appointed  him  one  of  the  nine  thousand  partes  of 
inheritaunce  for  his  education.     Contrariwise,  if  they  founde 
him  deformed,  misshapen,  or  leane,  or  pale,  they  sent  him 
to  be  throwen  in  a  deepe  pyt  of  water,  which  they  commonly 
called  Apothetes,  and  as  a  man  would  saye,  the  common  Apothetes. 
house  of  office :  holding  opinion  it  was  neither  good  for  the 
childe,  nor  yet  for  the  common  weale,  that  it  should  live, 
considering  from  his  birthe  he  was  not  well  made,  nor  geven 
to  be  stronge,  healthfull,  nor  lustie  of  bodie  all  his  life  longe. 
For  this  cause  therefore,  the  nurce  after  their  birthe  did  not 
washe  them  with  water  simply  (as  they  doe  every  where  at 
that  time)  but  with  water  mingled  with  wine :  and  thereby  Young  babes 
did  they  proove,  whether  the  complexion  or  temperature  of  washed  with 
their  bodies  were  good  or  ill.     For  they  suppose,  that  chil-  "'^°®" 
dren  which  are  geven  to  have  the  falling  sicknes,  or  other- 
wise to  be  full  of  rewmes  and  sicknesses,  cannot  abide  washing 
with  wine,  but  rather  drye  and  pyne  awaye  :  as  contrarilie  the 
other  which  are  healthfull,  become  thereby  the  stronger  and 
the  lustier.    The  nurces  also  of  Sparta  use  a  certaine  manner  The  Spartan 
to  bring  up  their  children,  without  swadling,  or  binding  nurces. 
them  up  in  clothes  with  swadling  bandes,  or  having  on  their 
heades  any  crosse  clothes  :  so  as  they  made  them  nimbler  of 
their  limmes,  better  shaped  and  goodlier  of  bodie.     Besides 
that,  they  acquainted  their  children  to  all  kinde  of  meates, 

141 


Pluto  of  the 
first  Alcibia- 
des. 


Howe  the  La- 
cedaemonians 
children  were 
brought  up. 


LIVES    OF  THE   NOBLE 

LYCURGUS  and  brought  them  up  without  muche  tendaunce,  so  as  they 
were  neither  fine  nor  licorous,  nor  fearefull  to  be  lefte  alone 
in  the  darcke,  neither  were  they  criers,  wrallers,  or  unhappy 
children,  which  be  all  tokens  of  base  and  cowardly  natures. 
So  that  there  were  straungers,  that  of  purpose  bought 
nources  out  of  Laconia,  to  bring  up  their  children  :  as  they 
saye  Amycla  was  one  of  them,  which  nourced  Alcibiades. 
But  Pericles  his  tutor,  gave  him  afterwardes  a  bonde  man 
called  Zopyrus,  to  be  his  master  and  govemour :  who  had  no 
better  propertie  in  him,  then  other  common  slaves.  This 
did  not  Lycurgus.  For  he  did  not  put  the  education  and 
government  of  the  children  of  Sparta,  into  the  handes  of 
hyered  masters  or  slaves  bought  with  money  :  neither  was  it 
lawfull  for  the  father  him  selfe  to  bring  up  his  owne  childe 
after  his  owne  manner  and  liking.  For  so  soone  as  they 
came  to  seven  yeres  of  age,  he  tooke  and  divided  them  by 
companies,  to  make  them  to  be  brought  up  together,  and  to 
accustome  them  to  playe,  to  leanie,  and  to  studie  one  with 
another.  Then  he  chose  out  of  every  company  one,  whom 
he  thought  to  have  the  best  wit,  and  had  most  courage  in 
him  to  fight :  to  whom  he  gave  the  charge  and  oversight  of 
his  owne  companie.  The  reste  had  their  eyes  waiting 
allwayes  on  him,  they  did  obey  his  commaundements 
willingly,  they  did  abide  paciently  all  corrections  he  gave 
them,  they  did  suche  taskes  and  worckes  as  he  appointed 
them :  so  that  all  their  studie  was  most  to  learne  to  obey. 
Furthermore,  the  olde  graye  headed  men  were  present  many 
times  to  see  them  playe,  and  for  the  most  parte  they  gave 
them  occasions  to  fall  out,  and  to  fight  one  with  another, 
that  they  might  thereby  the  better  knowe  and  discerne  the 
naturall  disposition  of  every  one  of  them,  and  whether  they 
gave  any  signes  or  tokens  in  time  to  come,  to  become 
cowardes  or  valiant  men.  Touching  learning,  they  had  as 
muche  as  served  their  turne  :  for  the  reste  of  their  time  they 
spent  in  learning  howe  to  obey,  to  awaye  with  payne,  to 
indure  labour,  to  overcome  still  in  fight.  Accordirg  to  their 
groweth  and  yeres,  they  dyd  chaunge  the  exercises  of  their 
bodyes :  they  dyd  shave  their  heads,  they  went  barelegged, 
they  were  constrained  to  playe  naked  together  the  most  parte 
142 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

of  their  time.  After  they  were  past  twelve  yeres  of  age,  LYCURGUJ 
they  ware  no  lenger  coates :  and  they  gave  them  yerely  but 
one  seely  gowne.  This  was  the  cause  they  were  alwayes  so 
nasty  and  sluttishe,  and  they  never  used  to  bathe  or  noynte 
them  selves,  saving  only  at  certaine  dayes  in  the  yere,  when 
they  were  suffered  to  tast  of  this  refreshing.  They  laye  and 
slept  together  upon  beddes  of  straw,  which  they  them  selves 
dyd  make,  of  the  toppes  of  reedes  or  canes  that  grewe  in  the 
river  of  Eurotas  :  which  they  were  forced  to  goe  gather  and 
breake  them  selves  with  their  handes,  without  any  toole  or 
iron  at  all.  In  the  winter,  they  dyd  mingle  thistle  downe  It  is  a  kiude 
with  these,  which  is  called  LycophonaSy  bicause  that  stuffe  "^  thistle  in 
seemeth  somewhat  warme  of  it  selfe.  About  this  time,  the  t'leMesseina 
favorers  and  likers  of  this  prety  youthe,  which  were  com-  He^chias. 
monly  the  lustiest  and  best  disposed  youthes  of  the  cittie, 
beganne  to  be  ofter  in  their  companie :  and  then  the  olde 
men  tooke  the  better  regarde  unto  them,  and  frequented 
more  commonly  the  places  of  their  daylie  exercises,  and 
where  their  use  was  to  fight  together,  helping  them  when 
they  played,  how  one  should  mocke  another.  This  dyd  their 
olde  men,  not  by  waye  of  pastime  only,  but  with  suche  care 
and  harty  love  towards  them,  as  if  they  had  bene  altogether 
their  fathers,  masters,  and  governours,  Mobile  they  were  boyes : 
in  so  much  as  there  was  never  time  nor  place,  where  they  had 
not  all  way  es  some  to  admonishe,  reprove,  or  correct  them,  if 
they  dyd  a  faulte.  Notwithstanding  all  this,  there  was  ever 
one  of  the  honestest  men  of  the  cittie,  who  had  expressely  the 
charge  and  governaunce  of  these  boyes.  He  dyd  divide  them 
in  companies,  and  afterwards  gave  the  oversight  of  them,  to 
suche  a  one  of  the  boyes  as  was  discreetest,  the  manliest,  the 
most  bardie,  and  of  the  best  corage  amongest  them.  They 
called  the  children  that  were  past  infancie  two  yeres,  Irenes :  Irenes. 
and  the  greatest  boyes  Melirenes :  as  who  woulcl  saye,  ready  Melirenes. 
to  goe  out  of  boyerie.  This  boye  who  was  made  overseer  of 
them,  was  commonly  twenty  yprps  nf  acrp  He  was  their 
captaine  when  they  fought,  and  did  commaunde  them  as  his 
servaunts  when  they  were  in  the  house :  and  willed  them 
which  were  strongest,  and  the  most  grovven,  to  carie  wodde 
when  they  should  prepare  dinner  or  supper,  and  those  which 

143 


LYCURGUS 


The  theeverie 
of  the  Lace- 
daemouians. 


Straight  dyet 
causeth 
growth  and 
height. 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

were  least  and  weakest,  to  goe  gather  erbes,  which  they  must 
steale  or  lacke  them.     So  they  went  out  to  steale  some  in 
gardens,  some  at  the  markets,  other  in  the  halles  where  the 
feastes  were  kept,  and  men  did  eate  together,  into  the  which 
they  conveyed  them  selves  as  closely  and  cumiingly  as  they 
could  devise  :  for  if  they  were  taken  with  the  manner,  they 
were  scourged  terriblie,  because  they  were   so   grosse  and 
necligent,  and  not  fine  and  cunning  in  their  facultie.     They 
stole  also  all  other  kinde  of  meate,  whatsoever  they  could  get 
or  laye  hands  on.    They  pried  and  sought  all  occasions  howe 
to  take  and  steale  meate  handsomely,  bothe  when  men  were 
asleepe,  or  els  that  they  were  careles,  or  did  not  geve  good 
hede  unto  them.     But  he  that  was  taken  with  the  manner, 
had  his  payment  roundely,  and  was  punished  with  fasting 
besides:  for  they  had  but  a  slender  pittaunce,  bicause  necessity 
should  drive  them  to  venter  boldely,  and  wit  should  finde  out 
all  the  devises  to  steale  finely.     This  was  the  chiefest  cause, 
why  they  gave  them  so  small  a  diet.    The  seconde  cause  was, 
that  their  bodies  might  growe  up  higher  in  height.    For  the 
vitall  spirites  not  being  occupied  to  concoct  and  digest  much 
meate,  nor  yet  kept  downe,  or  spread  abroade  by  the  quan- 
titie  or  overburden  thereof,  doe  enlarge  them  selves  into 
lengthe,  and  shoote  up  for  their  lightnes :  and  for  this  reason 
they  thought  the  bodie  did  growe  in  height  and  lengthe, 
having  nothing  to  let,  or  hinder  the  rising  of  the  same.     It 
seemeth,  that  the  same  selfe  cause  made  them  fayerer  also. 
For  the  bodies  that  are  leane  and  slender,  doe  better  and 
more  easely  yeld  to  nature,  which  bringeth  a  better  propor- 
tion and  forme  to  every  member:  and  contrariwise  it  seemeth 
these  grosse,  corpulent,  and  overfedde  bodies  doe  encounter 
nature,  and  be  not  so  nimble  and  pliant  to  her,  by  reason  of 
their  heavy  substaunce.     As  we  see  it  by  experience,  the 
children  which  women  bring  a  litle  before  their  time,  and  be 
somwhat  cast  before  they  should  have  bene  borne,  be  smaller 
and  fayerer  also,  and  more  pure  commonly  then  other  that 
goe  their  time :  bicause  the   matter  whereof  the  bodie  is 
formed,  being  more  supple  and  pliant,  is  the  easelier  welded 
by  nature,  which  geveth  them  their  shape  and  forme.    Touch- 
ing the  naturall  cause  of  this  effect,  let  us  geve  place  to  other 
144 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

to  dispute  it  that  will,  without  our  further  deciding  of  the  LYCURGUS 
same.     But  to  returne  to  the  matter  of  the  Lacedaemonians 
children.     They  dyd  robbe  with  so  great  care,  and  feare  to 
be  discovered  :  that  they  tell  of  one,  which  having  stolen  a 
litle  foxe,  dyd  hyde  him  under  his  cloke,  and  suffered  him 
with  his  teethe  and  clawes  to  teare  out  all  his  bellie,  and 
never  cryed,  for  feare  he  should  have  bene  betrayed,  untill 
he  fell  downe  dead  in  the  place  where  he  stoode.     This  is 
not  uncredible,  by  that  we  see  younge  boyes  doe  abide  at 
this   daye :    for  we   have   scene  divers,  which  have  bidden 
whipping  even  to  death,  upon  the  altar  of  Diana,  surnamed 
Orthia,     Nowe  this  under  master,  who  had  the  charge  of 
every  companie  of  these  boyes,  used  after  supper  (sitting  yet  Childrens 
at  the  table)  to  byd  one  of  them  singe  a  songe :  to  another  exercise  after 
he  put  forth  a  question,  who  was  to  be  well  advised  of  his  *  ^^^  supper, 
aunswer,  as  for  example  :  Who  is  the  honestest  man  in  the         „         ,     ^ 
cittie  ?  or  Howe  thinckest  thou  by  that  such  a  one  dyd  ?    By        K^^-a.  i'\ 
this  exercise  they  were  enured  from  boyes  state,  to  judge  of        j\X.^^ 
things  well   or  ill  done,  and   to   understand   the  life  ^^^^  „^i^^^^j^ 
government  of  their  cittizens.     For  which  of  them  did  not  v--v^~^ 

aunswer  quickly  and  directly  to  these  questions,  who  is  a 
good  man,  who  is  an  honest  cittizen,  and  who  not :  they 
thought  it  was  a  signe  of  a  dulle  wit,  and  careles  nature, 
not  geven  to  any  vertue,  for  desire  of  honour  and  estimation. 
Furthermore  this  under  master  was  ever  to  waite  for  his 
aunswer,  and  to  see  it  should  be  brief  and  well  knyt  up  in 
wordes  :  otherwise  his  punishement  that  aunswered  crossely, 
or  to  litle  purpose,  was  that  his  master  byt  him  by  the 
thumbe.  This  he  dyd  many  times  in  the  presence  of  the 
olde  men  and  magistrates  of  the  cittie,  that  they  might  see 
whether  he  punished  them  with  reason  or  not,  and  according 
to  their  deserving.  And  though  he  dyd  hurte  him,  they  dyd 
not  by  and  by  reprove  him,  but  when  the  children  were  gone 
awaye,  then  was  he  him  selfe  rebuked  and  punished,  if  he 
had  corrected  them  to  sore,  or  contrarylie  had  favored  them 
to  muche.  Moreover  they  dyd  ascribe  the  good  or  ill 
opinion  conceaved  of  the  children,  unto  every  of  their 
favorers,  and  lovers,  which  dyd  affect  and  entertaine  them  : 
in  asmuch  as  they  saye,  a  young  boye  upon  a  time  fighting 
T  145 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

LYCURGUS  with  another,  and  a  crye  scaping  out  of  his  mouthe,  which 

his  fainte  cowardly  harte  dyd  yelde,  his  favorer  and  lover 

was  straight  condemned  by  the  officers  of  the  cittie  to  a  fine. 

Albeit  this  love  was  a  thing  even  incorporated  into  them, 

that  the  most   honest   and   vertuousest   women    loved  the 

The  Lacedae-    young  maydes  thus  also  :  yet  was  there  no  jealousie  nor 

monians  man-  suspition  that  grewe  hereof,  but  rather  to  the  contrarie,  there 

nero    oving.    g^g^g  g^  marvelous  mutuall  love  and  kyndnes  betweene  them, 

which  loved  in  one  selfe  place.    For  either  of  them  by  all 

the  meanes  they  could,  dyd  devise  howe  to  make  the  childe 

they  loved  in  common,  the  wisest,  the  gentlest,  and  the  best 

conditioned  above  all  other.     They  taught  these  children  to 

speake  in  suche  sorte,  that  their  speache  had  ever  in  it  a 

pleasaunt   grace,  and  in  fewe  wordes  comprehended  much 

matter.     For  Lycurgus  ordained,  a  great  masse  and  weight 

of  iron  money,  should  be  but  litle  worthe,  and  of  a  small 

value,  as  we  have  tolde  you  before :   and  contrarilie,  that 

speache  in  fewe  wordes,  without  any  affectation,  should  holde 

Short  speache  much  deepe  and  grave  matter,  wherewith  the  children  being 

taught  among  acquainted,  after  long  silence,  should  be  brief  and  pitthie  in 

the  Lacedae-     their  aunswers.     For  as  the  seede  of  incontinent  men  which 

are  to  busie  with  every  ragge  and  colman  hedge,  can  take  no 

roote  to  bringe  forth  fruite :  even  so  immoderate  speache, 

full  of  wordes  and  busie  tattle,  bringeth  forth  as  litle  sense. 

Hereof  it  commeth,  that  the  aunswers  of  the  Laconians  were 

so  shorte  and  witty.     As  they  saye,  king  Agis  aunswered  on  a 

daye  an  Athenian,  who  jesting  at  the  swords  the  Lacedag- 

monians  dyd  were,  sayed  they  were  so  shorte,  that  these 

tumblers,  and  jugglers  dyd  swallowe  them  downe  in  the  sight 

of  all  the  world  :  And  yet  sayed  Agis,  we  hurte  our  enemies 

with  them  for  all  that.     For  mine  owne  opinion,  I  like  well 

of  the  Laconians  manner  of  speaking  :  which  is  not  to  speake 

much,  but  when  they  speake,  to  touch  the  matter  effectually, 

and  to  make  the  hearers  understand  them.     I  thincke  also, 

Lycurguswise  that  Lycurgus  selfe,  was  shorte  and  quicke  in  his  talke.    For 

aunswers.         g^  g^  j-j^^j^  jjjg^y  conjecture  by  his  aunswers  which  are  written  : 

as  that  which  he  made  to  one  who  earnestly  prayed  him  to 

stablishe  a  popular  state  in  Lacedasmon,  that  the  basest 

might  have  as  great  authoritie  as  the  highest.      Beginne 

146 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

(quoth  he)  to  doe  it  first  in  thine  owne  house.    And  as  that  LYCURGUS 

also  which  he  aunswered  another  who  asked  him,  why  he  had 

appointed  so  small  things,  and  so  little  of  value  to  be  offered 

to  the  goddes  ?    Bicause  (quoth  he)  we  should  never  cease  to  Lycurgus 

honour  them.     And  as  that  which  he  spake  another  time,  love  to  god. 

touching  fightes  and  frayes,  whicli  was  :  that  he  dyd  never 

forbid  his  cittizens  any  of  them,  but  those  wherein  they  use 

to  geve  their  hande,  as  you  would  saye  to  yeld.     Men  finde  To  geve  a 

also  suche  like  aunswers,  in  some  of  his  letters  written  to  his  hand,  is  to 

cittizens,  as  when  they  asked  him  :    Howe  can  we  defende  confesse  him 

1  .     .         •'  •      o     TT  J      xr         1-     self  overcome, 

our  selves  agamst  our  enemies .''     He  aunswered :   It  ye  be 

poore,  and  one  doe  covet  no  more  then  another.     And  in 
another  letter  that  was  sent,  where  he  discourseth,  whether 
it  were  requisite  to  inclose  the  cittie  with  walles :  he  sayeth, 
Can  that  cittie  be  without  walles,  which  is  environned  with 
men,  though  it  be  uncompassed  with  stone  ?    Nevertheles  it 
is  harde  to  resolve,  whether  those  letters,  and  other  suche 
like  that  are  shewed,  be  to  be  beleeved,  or  discredited  to  be 
his.    But  that  long  speache  was  much  disliked,  and  reproved  Shorte 
among  the  Lacedaemonians,  it  is  manifestly  to  be  scene  by  sentences 
the  words,  which  somme  amongest   them  have  heretofore  L^conians 
aunswered.     As  king  Leonidas  sayed  one  daye,  to  one  that 
discoursed  with  him  many  good  things,  but  out  of  season :  Leonidas. 
Friend,  thou  speakest  many  good  words,  but  to  litle  purpose.     _. 
And  Charilaus,  nephew  to  Lycurgus,  being  asked  why  his  Charilaus. 
uncle  made  so  fewe  lawes  :  Bicause  sayed  he,  to  men  of  fewe 
wordes,  fewe   lawes  will  serve.     And  Archidamidas  sayed  Archida- 
thus  to  somme,  which  reproved  Hecataeus  the  Orator,  for  "^^^^^• 
that  being  bidden  to  supper  at  one  of  their  feasts  he  spake 
not  a  worde  all  supper   time  :    He  who  can  speake  well, 
knoweth  also   when  to  speake.      And  where  I  have  tolde 
before,  that  in  their  feate  and  quicke  aunswers,  commonly 
there  was  some  prety  grace,  it  maye  be  well  seene  and  knowen 
by  these  that  followe.    Demaratus  aunswered  a  busie  fellowe  Sharpe  sen- 
who  troubled  him  to  much  with  vaine  importunate  questions,  fences  of  the 
asking  him  still :  who  was  the  honestest  man  of  Lacedasmon  ? 
Even  he  that  is  least  like  thy  selfe.     And  Agis  sayed  to  Demaratus. 
somme  which  highely  praysed  the  Elians  for  their  upright  Agis. 
judgement,  and  just  dealing  in  the  games  Olympicall :  What 

147 


LYCURGUS 

Theopompus. 


Plistonax, 
Pausanias 
Sonne. 


Archida- 
midas. 


In  the  life  of 
Agesilaus. 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

wonder  make  ye  of  it  (quoth  he)  if  in  five  yeres  space  the 
Elians  one  daye  doe  good  justice?  And  Theopompus  like- 
wise to  a  straunger,  who  as  desirous  to  shew  his  affection  he 
bare  the  Lacedaemonians,  told  him  how  every  bodye  called 
him  Philolacon  (as  to  saye)  a  lover  of  Lacedaemon.  It  were 
more  honestie  for  thee  (sayed  he)  to  be  named  Philolites,  a 
lover  of  her  cittizens.  And  Plistonax  the  sonne  of  Pausanias, 
when  an  Orator  of  Athens  sayed  the  Lacedaemonians  were 
unlearned,  and  ignorant :  thou  say  est  true,  quoth  he,  for  we 
only  of  all  the  Grecians  have  learned  none  of  your  ill  condi- 
tions. And  Archidamidas,  to  one  that  demaunded  of  him, 
what  number  of  fighting  men  there  might  be  of  the  Spartans : 
Enowe  sayd  he,  to  drive  awaye  the  wicked.  We  may  con- 
jecture also  their  manner  of  speaking,  by  their  wordes  in 
mirthe,  which  they  spake  sometimes  playing  wise :  for  they 
dyd  never  use  to  speake  vaine  wordes  at  randone,  but  it  had 
alwayes  some  secret  meaning  in  it,  which  required  anothers 
good  observation  that  would  finde  it.  As  he  which  was  desired 
to  goe  heare  the  nightingall  counterfeated  naturally  :  I  have 
(sayed  he)  heard  the  nightingall  it  selfe.  And  another  which 
having  redde  this  inscription  upon  a  tumbe. 

When  as  they  had,  well  quenched  tyrannie 
throughout  their  lande,  by  worthie  warlike  power, 

The;r  happe  was  yet  in  wretched  wise  to  dye, 
by  scaling  Selynuntaes  strongest  tower. 

They  well  deserved  death,  sayed  he,  that  dyd  but  quenche 
tyrannie :  they  should  have  quite  consumed  it  with  fire. 
And  one  younger  boye  to  another,  promising  to  geve  him 
suche  hardie  cockes  of  the  game,  as  should  dye  in  the  place 
where  they  fought :  O  geve  me  not  those  (said  he)  which 
will  dye,  but  those  which  with  fighting  will  kill  others. 
Another  seeing  men  sitting  in  coches  and  litters  as  they 
went :  God  forbid  (said  he)  that  I  should  ever  sit  in  a  chayer, 
where  I  could  not  rise  to  my  elders.  Suche  were  their 
aunswers  and  encounters.  So  that  somme  had  reason  which 
sayed  heretofore,  to  speake  Laconian  like,  was  to  be  philo- 
sopher like  :  as  you  would  saye,  more  to  exercise  the  minde, 
then  the  bodye.     Besides  all  this,  they  dyd  studie  to  singe 

148 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

well,  and  to  make  goodly  ditties  and  songes.     Then  they  LYCURGUS 

spake  most  properly  and  feately.     There  was  in  their  songs  The  Lacedse- 

also  a  certaine  motion,  I  wote  not  what,  which  stirred  up  the  monians 

hearers  hartes,  and  dyd  kindle  desire  in  them  to  doe  notable  songes. 

feates.     Their  tongue  was  plaine,  without  affectation  :  their 

matter  grave  and  morall,  conteining  for  the  most  parte  the 

prayse  of  those,  which  were  slayne  in  battell  for  the  defence 

of  their  countrie,  as  being  happy  men  :  and  a  shame  to  those 

that  live,  which  for  fainte  hartes  refused  so  to  dye,  to  leade 

a  miserable  and  unfortunate  life.     Or  els  they  sange  howe 

they  were  the  patternes  for  time  to  come,  or  the  right  glorie 

of  the  worlde,  and  the  true  representation  of  vertuous  men : 

as  the  songe  Avould  best  become  their  ages  which  dyd  singe. 

It  shall  not  be  impartinent  for  the  better  understanding 

hereof,  to  bring  you  here  an  example.     For  in  their  open 

feasts,  there  were  alwayes  three  daunces,  according  to  the  Three  daunces 

difference  of  the  three  ages.     The  daunce  of  the  olde  men,  among  the 

thus  beganne  first  for  to  sina-e.  Lacedsemo- 

°  °  mans. 

We  have  bene  young  and  strong,  yea  valliant  heretofore, 
till  crooked  age  did  holde  us  backe,  and  bad  us  doe  no  more. 

The  young  men  followed  after,  singing  : 

We  yet  are  young,  bolde,  strong,  and  ready  to  maintaine 

that  quarell  still,  against  all  men  that  doe  on  earthe  remaine. 

The  third  was  of  children  that  came  after  and  sayed  : 

Aiid  we  doe  hope  aswell,  to  passe  you  all  at  last, 

and  that  the  worlde  shall  witnes  be,  ere  many  yeres  be  past. 

To  conclude,  who  nerely  will  consider  the  worcks  and 
makings  of  the  Lacon  poets  (wherof  some  are  yet  extant) 
and  will  marke  also  the  notes  and  tunes  of  the  pipe,  after 
the  sound  and  measure  whereof  they  marched  in  arraye, 
going  to  charge  the  enemie  :  he  shall  finde,  that  Terpander,  Terpander  of 
and  Pindarus,  had  reason  to  joyne  hardynes  with  musicke.  the  Lacedae- 
For  Terpander  speaking  of  the  Lacedaemonians,  sayeth  in  a  "^oiiians. 
place : 

This  is  that  lande  where  deedes  of  chevalrie, 
did  florishe  most,  in  many  a  martiall  feate  : 

149 


LYCURGUS 


Pyndarus  of 
the  Lacedae- 


The  longe 
bushes  and 
heare  of  the 
Laconians. 


LIVES    OF   THE   NOBLE 

Where  musickc  made,  her  choise  of  hannonic, 
and  justice  kept  her  stately  royall  seate. 

And  Pindarus  speaking  of  them  also  sayeth  : 

There  :  grave  advise,  is  founde  in  aged  braynes  : 
there  :  gallant  youthes,  are  lusty  ladds  in  dede. 

Which  can  both  singe,  and  daunce,  in  courtlike  traines  : 
yet  dant  their  foes,  with  many  a  doughty  dede. 

By  which  testimonies  it  appeareth,  the  one  and  the  other 
made,  and  describeth  them  to  have  loved  musicke,  and  the 
warres  together.     For  as  another  Lacon  poet  sayeth, 

It  sitteth  well,  and  is  a  semely  thinge, 

for  such  as  spend  their  time  in  feats  of  warre  : 

To  have  the  skyll,  swete  sonets  for  to  singe, 
and  touche  the  harpe  withouten  jangling  jarre. 

For  this  cause  therefore  in  all  their  warres,  when  they 
should  geve  battell,  the  King  dyd  first  sacrifice  to  the  Muses, 
to  put  his  souldiers  in  minde  (as  it  should  seeme)  of  the 
discipline  and  wisdome  of  the  Muses  that  they  had  bene 
brought  up  in,  to  the  end  that  when  his  souldiers  were  in 
the  most  extreme  daunger,  the  Muses  should  present  them 
selves  before  the  souldiers  eyes,  to  pricke  them  forward  to 
doe  some  noble  actes  of  worthy  memorie.  In  their  time  of 
Avarre,  they  dyd  tollerate  their  young  men  a  litle  of  their 
hard  and  old  accustomed  life,  and  suffered  them  then  to 
trime  their  heares,  to  have  brave  armour,  to  weare  gay 
apparell,  and  tooke  as  great  delight  therein,  to  see  them 
gallant,  and  lustie,  as  to  behold  young  neying  and  snorting 
horse,  desirous  for  to  fight.  And  althoughe  from  the  begin- 
ning of  their  youthe,  they  dyd  use  to  weare  longe  heares  : 
yet  were  they  never  so  carefull  to  combe  and  brushe  their 
heades,  as  when  they  should  to  the  battell.  For  when  they 
dyd  nointe  them  selves  with  sweete  oyles,  and  dyd  shed  their 
heare,  remembring  Lycurgus  saying :  who  was  wont  to  tell 
them,  that  heares  to  them  which  were  fayer,  dyd  make  them 
more  fayer,  and  to  them  that  were  fowle,  they  made  them 
more  ougly  and  dredfull.  The  exercises  also  of  their  bodies, 
were  more  easie  and  gentle,  and  not  so  hard  and  straight  in 
their  warres,  as  they  were  in  a  peace  :  and  generally,  their 

150 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

whole  manner  of  life  was  not  then  so  straightly  viewed,  nor  LYCURGUS 
vet  controlled.     So  as  they  only  were  the  men  of  the  world, 
to  whom  warres  were  made  a  rest  from  labour,  which  men 
ordinarylie  doe  endure,  to  make  them  the  fitter  for  the 
warres.     Afterwardes  when  their  armie  was  set  in   battell  How  the 
raye,  even  in  the  face  of  the  enemie,  the  King  dyd  straight  L»conians  be- 
sacrifice  a  goate  unto  the  goddes,  and  forthwith  commaunded  S^""®  battell. 
all  his  souldiers  to  put  their  garlands  of  flowers  on  their 
heades,  and  willed  that  the  pipes  should  sownd  the  songe  of  TheLaconians 
Castor  :  at  the  noyse  and  tune  whereof,  he  him  selfe  beganne  ^^nge  when 
first  to  marche  forward.     So  that  it  was  a  marvelous  plea-  g^^  j^J^  '^' " 
sure,  and  likewise  a  dredfull  sight,  to  see  the  whole  battell 
marche  together  in  order,  at  the  sound  of  the  pipes,  and 
never  to  breake  their  pace,  nor  confounde  their  ranckes,  nor 
to   be    dismayde   nor   amazed    themselves,  but    to   goe  on 
quietly  and  joyfully  at  the  sounde  of  these  pipes,  to  hazard 
themselves  even  to  death.    For  it  is  likely,  that  such  corages 
are  not  troubled  with  much  feare,  nor  yet  overcome  with 
much  furie :  but  rather  they  have  an  assured  constancie  and 
valliantnes  in  good  hope,  as  those  which   are  backed  with 
the  assisting  favour  of  the  goddes.     The  King  marching  in 
this  order,  had  allwayes  some  about  him,  which  had  before 
time  wonne  the  prises  in  games  and  justes.     And  they  saye 
there  was  one  of  these  on  a  time,  that  was  offered  a  great 
some  of  money  at  the  games  Olympicall,  not  to  present  him 
selfe  at  them  :  but  he  refused  it,  liking  better  with  great 
payne  to  winne  the  prise,  then  for  muche  money  to  lose  his 
honour.     Whereupon  one  sayed  unto  him,  Laconian :  and 
what  hast  thou  gotten  nowe,  to  carie  away  the  prise  with  so 
much    swet  ?     The   Laconian  aunswered    him    laughing :    I 
shall  fight  in  the  battell,  sayeth  he,  before  the  King.    When 
they  had  once  broken  into   their  enemies,  they  dyd  still 
fiercely  and  fiercelier  set  upon  them,  and  dyd  never  cease, 
untill  their  enemies  gave  waye  and  fled  :    and  then  they 
chased  and  followed  them   still,  untill  such  time  as  their  How  farre 
overthrowe   and  flight  had  assured  them    of  the  victorie.  *^®  ^^^^^^^j 
Then  they  quickly  and  quietly  returned  to  their  campe,  JJJ'r^u^the^r 
judging  it  to  be  no  manhod,  neither  the  parte  of  a  noble  enemies, 
minde,  or  of  so  worthye  a  nation  as  the  Grecians  were,  to 

151 


LIVES    OF   THE   NOBLE 

LYCURGUS  kill  and  hewe  in  peeces,  men  so  scattered  and  out  of  order, 
having  forsaken  all  the  hope  of  victorie.     This  fell  out  not 
only  honorable,  but  also  very  profitable  for  them.     For  they 
which   were   in  battell  against  them,  knowing  they  killed 
none  but  suche  as  resisted  stowtely,  and  howe  they  dyd  let 
other  goe  which  fled  before  them  :  they  found  it  was  more 
their  benefit  to  flye,  then  to  tarie  and  abide  the  strokes. 
Lycurgus  a       Hippias  the  sophister  sayeth,  that  Lycurgus  him  selfe  was  a 
very  good         very  good  captaine,  and  a  great  souldier,  as  he  that  had 
captaine.  ^jg^^^  ^^  many  foughten  fieldes  :  and  Philostephanus  ascribeth 

to  him  the  devise  to  put  horsemen  in  troupes  and  companies, 
Oulames.  which  they  called  Oulames,  whereof  fiftie  men  at  armes  was 

a  troupe,  whose  manner  was  to  put  them  selves  in  squadrons. 
But  Demetrius  the  Phalerian  writeth  otherwise,  that  Ly- 
curgus was  never  at  the  warres,  and  that  he  made  all  his 
lawes  and  government  in  a  full  peace.  But  in  my  opinion, 
the  intermission  of  warres  during  the  playes  Olympicall, 
which  they  saye  he  devised,  doeth  shew  in  apparaunce  that 
he  was  a  gentle  natured  man,  and  one  that  loved  quietnes 
and  peace.  Some  notwithstanding  (amongest  whom  Her- 
mippus  was  one)  saye,  he  was  not  with  Iphitus  at  the  first 
beginning  when  he  ordeined  the  playes  Olympicall,  but  that 
by  chaunce  he  happened  to  come  thither,  passing  by  in  his 
jorney  only,  and  that  he  stayed  there  to  see  the  games: 
where  he  thought  he  heard  the  voyce  of  a  man  behinde  him, 
saying,  he  marvelled  much  why  he  dyd  not  persuade  his 
cittizens  also  to  be  parteners  of  this  newe  devise :  and  turn- 
ing backe  to  see  who  it  was  that  spake  to  him,  he  sawe  no 
bodye.  Whereupon  he  tooke  a  conceit  that  it  was  a  speache 
from  the  goddes :  and  went  therefore  presently  to  seeke  out 
Iphitus,  with  whom  he  made  all  the  statutes  and  orders  of 
the  feast,  which  afterwardes  were  farre  more  famous,  better 
ordered,  and  more  stately  then  before.  But  to  returne 
ao-aine  to  the  Lacedaemonians :  their  discipline  and  order  of 
life  continued  still,  after  they  were  full  growen  men.  For  it 
was  not  la'\\'full  for  any  man  to  live  as  he  listed,  but  they 
were  within  their  cittie,  as  if  they  had  bene  in  a  campe, 
where  every  man  knoweth  what  allowance  he  hath  to  live 
withall,  and  what  busines  he  hath  els  to  doe  in  his  calling. 
152 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

To  be  shorte,  they  were  all  of  this  minde,  that  they  were  not   LYCURGUS 
borne  to   serve  them    selves,  but  to   serve  their   countrie.  The  Laco- 
Therfore  if  they  were  commaunded  nothing  els,  they  went  nians  opinion, 
continually  to  see  what  the  children   dyd,  and  to  teache  *^  sene  their 
them  somewhat  which  might  profit  the  common  weale,  or 
els  they  went  to  learne  of  those  which  were  their  elders. 
For  one  of  the  best  and  happiest  things  which  Lycurgus 
ever  brought  into  his  cittie,  was  the  great  rest  and  leysure  The  rest  and 
which  he  made  his  cittizens  to  have,  only  forbidding  them  leysure  of  the 
that  they  should  not  professe  any  vile  or  base  occupation :     ?^^  aemo- 
and  they  needed  not  also  to  be  carefull  to  get  great  riches, 
in  a  place  where  goodes  were  nothing  profitable  nor  esteemed. 
For  the  Ilotes,  which  were  made  bonde  men  by  the  warres, 
dyd  till  their  groundes,  and  yeelded  them  a  certaine  revenue 
every  year.     And  as  touching  this  matter,  they  tell  of  a   '-* 
Lacedaemonian,  who  being  on  a  daye  at  Athens  where  the 
lawe  was  pleaded,  dyd  understand  that  a  cittizen  there  was 
condemned  for  Idlenes,  and  howe  he  went  home  to  his  house  Idle  livers 
very  sorowfully,  accompanied  with  his  friends  which  were  punished  at 
sorie  for  him,  and    greatly  lamented  his  ill  happe.     The 
Lacedaemonian  then  prayed  those  which  were  about  him,  to 
shewe  him  the  man  condemned  for  living  nobly,  and  like  a 
gentleman.     I  have  alledged  this,  to  shew  how  he  thought 
it  a  vile  and  servill  thing  to  exercise  any  handy  craft,  or  to 
worke  any  thing  by  hande  to  get  money.     For  sutes  in  lawe,  Sutes  in  lawe 
a  man  maye  be  well  assured  they  were  banished  with  the  ^^'f^  a\vaye 
golde  and  silver  from  Lacedaemon,  considering  now  there  ^nd  silver  that 
was  no  more  avarice  nor  covetousnes  there,  nor  yet  povertie  ^.^s  banished, 
nor  lacke,  but  equalitie  with   aboundaunce,  and  quiet  life 
with  sobrietie.     All  other  times  but  when  they  had  warres,  How  they 
they  followed  daunsing,  feastes,  playes,  bankets,  hunting,  or  spent  the  time 
other  exercises  of  bodye,  and  meetinges  to  passe  the  time  away.  *"    ^"^  ^* 
For  the  younge  men  untill  they  came  to  thirtie  yeres  of  age, 
never  went  into  the  market  to  buye  any  provision  or  things 
for  the  house,  but  dyd  their  fathers  or  their  friends  busines : 
naye  it  was  a  shame  for  the  oldest  men,  to  hawnte  the 
market  to  often.     As  to  the  contrary,  it  was  honorable  for 
them  to  be  present  at  the  shewe  place  the  most  parte  of  the 
daye,  where  they  diversely  exercised  their  bodyes,  and  like- 
U  153 


\  The  Lacedae- 
monians lived 
not  privately 
to  them  selves 
in  the  com- 
mon weale. 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

LYCURGUS  ^vise  to  be  at  the  plax:es  of  assembly,  there  to  spend  time 
with  talking  together,  and  discoursing  honestly  one  with 
another,  without  talking  of  any  matter  of  gaine,  traffike,  or 
money.  For  all  their  talke  (for  the  most  parte)  was  about 
the  praysing  of  some  honest  thing,  or  sportingwise  to  reprove 
some  dishonestie,  which  alwayes  caried  with  it  some  gentle 
lesson  or  monition  by  the  waye.  For  Lycurgus  was  not  such 
a  sower  man,  as  they  never  sawe  him  laughe  :  but  as  Sosibius 
writeth,  it  was  he  that  first  sacrificed  to  the  litle  god  of 
laughture,  which  is  at  Lacedasmon,  bicause  he  would  mingle 
their  feastes  and  assemblies  with  mirthe,  as  a  pleasaunt  sawce 

to  ease  the  trouble  of  their  strickt  and  harde  life.     To  be 

brief,  he  did  accustome  his  cittizens  so,  that  they  neither 
would  nor  could  live  alone,  but  were  in  manner  as  men  incor- 
porated one  with  another,  and  were  allwayes  in  company 
together,  as  the  bees  be  about  their  master  bee :  still  in  a 
continuall  love  to  serve  their  countrie,  to  winne  honour,  and 

"~  "       to  advaunce  the  common  weale.     Which  affection  of  theirs 

is  playne  and  easely  seene  to  be  imprinted  in  them  by  certen 

Paedaretus        of  their  aunswers,  as  in  that  which  Paedaretus  sayed  on  a 

saying.  time,  being  left  out  of  the  election  of  the  number  of  the 

three  hundred.  Who  departing  home  to  his  house  mery 
and  jocond  as  might  be,  sayed  :  It  did  him  good  to  see  there 
were  three  hundred  founde  better  in  the  cittie  than  him 
selfe.  Pisistratidas  also  being  sent  ambassadour  with  certen 
other  to  the  lieutenants  of  the  king  of  Persia,  the  Persian 
lordes  asked  him,  if  they  came  of  their  owne  desire,  or 
whether  they  were  sent  from  the  whole  state  :  If  we  obtaine, 
sayed  he,  it  is  from  the  state  :  if  we  be  denied,  then  we  come 
of  our  selves.  And  Argileonida  the  mother  of  Brasidas, 
asked  some  that  went  to  visite  her  after  they  were  returned 
home  to  Lacedaemon  from  their  jomey  to  Amphipolis,  if  her 
Sonne  died  like  a  man,  and  a  worthy  Spartan.  And  they 
straight  did  commend  him  highely,  saying :  There  was  not 
left  in  all  Lacedaemon  suche  a  valliant  man.  She  replied 
unto  them :  Saye  not  so,  my  friends,  I  praye  you :  for 
Brasidas  was  in  dede  a  valliant  man,  but  the  country  of 
Laconia  hath  many  moe  yet  vallianter  than  he  was.  Now 
touching  their  Senate :  Lycurgus  was  the  first  that  erected 
154 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

it  among  them.     The  first  that  were  thereof,  were  Lycurgus   T.YCURGUS 
chief  ayders  and  assisters  of  that  erection,  as  we  have  de- 
clared before  :  but  afterwards  he  ordeined,  that  when  any  The  manner 
of  those  first  should  happen  to  dye,  they  should  choose  in  his  "^  choosing 
place  the  most  honest  reported  man  in  the  cittie,  so  he  were  the  SenMe 
three  score  yere  olde  and  above.    This  was  the  noblest  glorie        ^ 
that  could  be  among  men,  when  a  man  bare  the  bell  and 
prise,  not  that  he  was  swiftest  among  the  swift,  nor  strongest 
amongest  the  strong,   but  that  he  among  the  honest  was 
honestest.     He  had  the  reward  of  his  vertue,  as  for  libertie 
to  speake,  soveraine   authoritie   to  governe,   and   princely 
power  over  the  common  weale,  the  honour,  the  life,  and  the 
goodes  of  the  whole  cittizens :  howbeit  the  election  was  made 
after  this  sorte.     The  people  first  assembled  in  the  market 
place,  where  there  were  some  appointed  and  shut  up  there- 
about in  a  house,  from  whence  they  could  neither  see,  nor  be 
scene  of  those  that  were  assembled,  but  onely  they  might 
heare  the  noyse  which  they  made  there.     For  the  people  by 
their  crye  and  showte,  did  declare  whom  they  did  choose, 
and  whom  they  did  refuse  of  the  competitours,  as  they  used 
to  shewe  their  liking  by  the  like  crye  in  other  things.     The 
competitours  were  not  brought  in,  and  presented  all  to- 
gether, but  one  after  another  in  order,  as  by  lot  did  fall  out. 
He  on  whom  the  lot  fell,  passed  through  the  middest  of  the 
assemblie  of  the  people,  and  sayed  never  a  worde.     The 
people  straight  that  liked,  made  a  crye  or  showte  alowde. 
The  men  appointed  which  were  locked  up,  had  bookes  or 
tables  in  which  they  wrote  and  noted  the  greatnes  of  the 
crye,  and  showte  the  people  made,  as  every  competitour 
passed  by,  not  knowing   nor   seing  who   he  was.      These 
hidden  men  did  onely  set  downe  in  their  bookes,  the  first, 
the  second,  the  thirde,  and  so  many  more,  as  by  showtes 
and    cryes    they   perceyved    dyd   passe    thus    through    the 
assemblie.     They  noted  also  in  their  said  bookes,  which  of 
these  had  the  greatest  crye  and  showte  of  people  at  their 
passing  thorough :  and  him  they  came  and  declared  to  be  What  was 
Senatour  chosen.     Then  he  wearing  a  garland  of  flowers  on  done  the 
his  head,  went  to  all  the  temples  of  the  goddes  in  the  cittie  bein<^^hosen. 
to  geve  thankes,  having  a  great  traine  of  young  men  follow-         * 

155 


LIVES    OF    THE    NOBLE 

LYCURGUS  ing,  and  praysing  of  his  vertues.  There  went  also  with  him 
a  marvelous  company  of  women  singing  songes  of  his  prayse, 
and  howe  blessed  he  was,  that  he  had  lived  so  vertuously. 
Then  every  one  of  his  kinne  prepared  a  bancket  for  him  at 
home  at  their  houses,  and  as  he  entred  the  house,  they  sayed 
unto  him  :  The  cittie  honoreth  thee  with  this  bancket. 
That  done,  he  repayred  afterwards  to  the  ordinarie  place 
of  their  eating,  where  he  dyd  in  all  things  as  he  was  accus- 
tomed, saving  he  was  served  nowe  at  his  table  with  a  double 
allowaunce,  whereof  he  reserved  the  one.  After  supper,  all 
his  kinsewomen  stoode  in  the  entrie  of  the  hall  where  they  had 
eaten  :  so  he  called  her  whom  he  loved  best,  and  gave  her  his 
allowaunce  he  had  saved,  and  sayed  to  her  :  This  was  geven 
me  in  token  I  was  this  daye  rewarded  for  my  vertue  :  and  even 
so  I  geve  it  thee  for  a  like  token  of  rewarde  for  thy  vertue. 
Then  was  she  brought  home  by  all  the  women  there  to  her 
house,  even  in  like  sorte  as  he  was  by  the  men.  Touching 
burialles,  Lycurgus  made  a  wise  order  :  For  first  of  all,  to 
cut  of  all  superstition  of  burying  places,  he  commaunded  they 
The  manner  should  burie  their  dead  within  the  cittie,  and  that  their  graves 
ofbunallwith  should  be  round  about  their  temples,  that  young  persones 
monia^ns  *  might  have  them  allwayes  in  their  eyes,  and  not  be  affrayed 
to  see  a  dead  bodye,  as  if  to  touche  a  corse,  or  to  passe  by 
their  graves,  it  should  defile  a  man.  Then  did  he  forbid 
them  to  burie  any  thing  with  the  corse,  and  willed  they 
should  only  lappe  it  up  in  a  redde  clothe,  with  olive  leaves. 
It  was  not  lawfull  to  grave  the  name  of  any  dead  bodye 
upon  his  grave,  but  only  of  suche  a  man  as  died  in  the 
warres,  or  of  some  holy  woman  professed  into  their  temples. 
The  time  of  Furthermore,  the  time  appointed  to  mourne  in,  was  very 
mourning.  shorte.  For  it  lasted  not  but  a  eleven  dayes,  and  on  the 
twelft  daye,  they  must  doe  sacrifice  to  Proserpina,  and  so 
leave  of  their  mourning.  To  conclude,  he  left  nothing  idle, 
or  unworking  in  his  cittizens  :  for  to  all  necessarie  things 
which  men  can  not  lacke,  Lycurgus  joyned  ever  a  certaine 
emulation  of  men.  As  to  desire  vertue,  and  to  contemne 
vice  :  and  furnished  his  cittie  with  many  good  preceptes  and 
examples,  emong  which  his  cittizens  being  still  borne  and 
bred  up,  and  having  the  same  in  every  place  before  their  eyes 
156 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

where  they  went,  they  came  to  passe  in  time  to  be  framed    LYCURGUS 
after  the  very  patterne  and  moulde  of  vertue  it  selfe.     For 
this  cause  he  did  not  suffer  any  to  travell  out  of  the  countrie,  None  allowed 
or  to  goe  abroad  as  he  would,  without  speciall  licence,  for  to  travell  into 
fcare  least  those  which  travelled  abroad  for  their  pleasure,  trie^^without 
should  bring  home  straunge  facions  and  manners,  and  a  cor-  licence, 
rupt  disordered  life,  which  by  litle  and  litle  might  get  waye, 
and  bring  an  alteration  and  chaunge  of  the  whole  state. 
Furthermore,  he  kept  out  of  Sparta  all  straungers,  except  Nostraungers 
those  which  had  necessarie  busines  there,  or  were  come  thither  suffered  to 
for  some  profit  to  the  countrie:  not  that  he  was  affrayed  dwell  in 
they  should  learne  some  thing  whereby  to  love  vertue,  or    ^^^^  ^' 
that  they  should  desire  to  followe  his  facion  and  manner  of 
government  as  Thucydides  was  :    but   rather  fearing  they 
should  teache  his  cittizens  some  naughty  manners,  or  some 
ill  favored  vice.     For  it  must  needes  be,  that  straungers 
bring  ever  straunge   and  newe  devises  with  them  :    which 
newe  devises   bring   with    them   also   newe   opinions :    and 
newe  opinions  beget  newe  affections  and  mindes,  that  many 
times  are  repugnant  to  the  lawe,  and  to  the  forme  of  the 
common   weale  established  before,  as    discordes  doe   many 
times  in  an  harmonic  of  musicke,  that  before  agreed  very 
well  together.     Therefore  he  judged  it  a  thing  most  neces- 
sarie, to  keepe  his  cittie  free  and  safe  from  counterfeating  of 
any  straungers  manners  or  facions,  that  were  commonly  as 
persones  infected  with  some  contagious   sicknes.     Nowe  in 
all  we  have  spoken  before,  even  to  this  place,  there  is  no 
manner  of  token  or  shewe  of  injustice,  or  lacke  of  equitie, 
wherewith  some  seme  to  burden  Lycurgus  in  his  lawes :  by  say- 
ing they  were  well  made,  to  make  men  warlicke  and  valliant, 
but  not  to  be  juste  or  righteous.     But  concerning  the  lawe  Cryptia  with 
they  call  Cryptia^  as  much  to  saye,  as  their  secret :  if  it  were  of  the  Lacedse- 
Lycurgus   institution,  as   Aristotle   sayeth,  it   might   have  "tomans, 
caried  Plato  into  the  like  opinion  that  Lycurgus  had  of  his 
common  weale.     This  was  the  lawe :  The  governours  which 
had  the  charge  and  oversight  of  the  young  men,  at  certaine 
appointed  times,  dyd  chuse  out  those  they  thought  to  have 
the  best  discretion,  and  sent  them  abroade  into  the  countrie, 
some  one  waye,  some  another  waye,  who  caried  with  them 

157 


The  cruelty 
of  the  Lace- 
daemonians 
against  the 
liotes. 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

LYCURGUS  daggers,  and  some  provision  to  feede  them.  These  young 
men  being  thus  dispersed  abroade  in  the  countrie,  did  hide 
them  selves  all  the  daye  close  in  secret  places,  and  there 
they  laye  and  tooke  their  rest :  afterwardes  when  night  was 
come,  they  went  to  seeke  out  the  high  wayes,  and  killed  the 
first  of  the  Ilotes  that  they  met.  Sometimes  even  in  the 
broade  daye,  they  went  into  the  countrie  to  kill  the  strongest 
and  stowtest  of  them  :  as  Thucydides  telleth  in  his  history  of 
the  warres  of  Peloponnesus,  where  he  sayeth.  That  a  cer- 
taine  convenient  number  of  the  Ilotes  were  crowned,  by  a 
publicke  proclamation  of  the  Spartans :  and  being  infran- 
chesed,  for  their  good  services  they  had  done  the  common 
weale,  they  were  caried  to  all  the  temples  of  the  goddes  for 
an  honour.  Within  a  while  after,  no  man  knewe  what  was 
become  of  them,  being  about  two  thousand  in  number :  so 
that  never  man  heard  tell  neither  then  nor  since,  howe  they 
came  to  their  deathes.  Howbeit  Aristotle  above  all  others 
sayeth,  that  the  Ephores,  so  soone  as  they  were  placed  in 
their  offices,  made  warres  with  the  Ilotes,  bicause  they  might 
lawfully  kill  them.  And  it  is  true,  that  in  other  things 
they  did  handle  them  very  hardely.  For  they  forced  them 
somtimes  to  drincke  wine  without  water  out  of  measure,  till 
they  had  made  them  starke  drunke.  Then  they  brought 
them  all  into  their  common  halles  where  they  did  eate,  to 
make  their  children  to  beholde  them,  and  to  see  what  beast- 
lines  it  was  for  a  man  to  be  drunke.  Likewise  they  made 
them  singe  songes,  and  daunce  daunces,  unfit  for  honest  men, 
and  suche  as  were  full  of  derision  and  mockerie,  and  did 
forbid  them  expressely  to  singe  any  honest  songes.  So  it  is 
reported,  that  in  the  jorney  the  Thebans  made  to  Laconia, 
many  of  the  Ilotes  were  taken  prisoners  thereat,  and  when 
they  were  commaunded  to  singe  the  verses  of  Terpander,  or 
of  Alcman,  or  of  Spendon  the  Laconian,  they  would  not  doe 
it :  saying,  they  durst  not  singe  them  for  their  masters. 
Wherefore  he  that  first  sayed  in  the  countrie  of  Lacedae- 
monia,  he  that  is  free  is  more  free,  and  he  that  is  bonde,  is 
more  bonde  then  in  other  places :  knewe  very  well  the  diver- 
sitie  betweene  the  libertie  and  bondage  there,  and  the  libertie 
and  bondage  of  other  countries.  But  in  my  opinion,  the 
158 


Diodorus 
lib.  2. 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

Lacedaemonians  beganne  to  use  these  great  outrages  and  LYCURGUS 
cruelties,  long  time  after  the  death  of  Lycurgus,  and  specially 
since  the  great  earthquake  that  happened  at  Sparta,  at  which 
cime  the  Ilotes  rose  against  them  with  the  Messenians,  and 
did  great  mischief  through  the  countrie,  and  put  the  cittie 
to  the  greatest  distresse  and  daunger  that  ever  it  had.  For  I 
cannot  be  persuaded,  that  ever  Lycurgus  invented,  or  insti- 
tuted, so  wicked  and  mischievous  an  acte,  as  that  kynde  of 
ordinaunce  was  :  bicause  I  imagine  his  nature  was  gentle  and 
mercif ull,  by  the  clemencie  and  j  ustice  wee  see  he  used  in  all 
his  other  doings,  and  was  witnessed  besides  by  open  oracle 
from  the  goddes,  for  a  just  and  wise  man.  Furthermore, 
they  saye  of  him,  that  when  he  sawe  the  chiefest  pointes  of 
his  government  had  taken  deepe  roote,  and  that  the  forme 
of  his  common  weale  went  on,  and  was  strong  enough  to 
mainteine  and  keepe  it  selfe  a  foote,  like  as  Plato  sayeth, 
that  God  rejoyced  greately  after  he  had  made  the  worlde,  Plato  in 
and  sawe  the  same  turne  and  move  his  first  moving :  even  so  Timao. 
Lycurgus  taking  singular  pleasure  and  delight  in  his  minde, 
to  see  his  notable  lawes  put  in  use,  and  so  well  stablished 
and  liked  of  by  experience,  sought  yet  to  make  them  immor- 
tall,  as  neere  as  he  could  possible,  by  any  forecast  of  man, 
that  no  after  time  whatsoever,  might  chaunge  or  put  them 
downe.  To  bring  this  to  passe,  he  caused  all  the  people  to 
assemble,  and  tolde  them  ne  thought  his  civill  pollicie  and 
state  of  common  weale  was  already  sufficiently  established, 
for  vertuous  and  happy  life :  yet  there  was  one  matter 
behinde  of  greater  importance  than  all  the  rest,  which  he 
could  not  yet  declare  unto  them,  untill  he  had  first  asked 
counsell  of  the  oracle  of  Apollo,  And  therefore  in  the 
meane  time  they  should  keepe  and  observe  his  lawes  and 
ordinaunces  inviolablie,  without  chaunging,  remo\'ing,  or 
staying  any  matter  therein,  untill  he  were  returned  from  the 
cittie  of  Delphes,  and  then  they  should  doe  that  other  thing 
behinde,  if  the  God  then  so  counselled  him.  They  all  Lycurgus 
promised  him  to  doe  it,  and  prayed  him  to  make  hast  to  goe  wonderfull 
on  his  iomey.  But  before  he  departed,  he  made  the  Kings  *^fH^v  u-  ^" 
and  Senatours  sweare  first,  and  consequently  all  the  people  jjjg  lawes. 
after,  that    they   would    keepe   his   lawes    and    ordinaunces 

159 


LYCURGUS 


Lycurgus 
death. 


Sparta 
florished  five 
hundi-ed 
yeres. 

Lycurgus 
lawes  were 
broken  in 
king  Agis 
time,  by 
Lysanders 
meanes. 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

without   chaunging  or   altering   any  thing,   untill   he   did 
returne  againe.     This  done,  he  went  to  the  cittie  of  Delphes, 
where  so  sone  as  he  arrived,  he  sacrificed  in  the  temple  to 
Apollo,  and  asked  him  :  If  the  lawes  he  had  made  were  good 
to  make  a  man  an  happy  life.     Apollo  made  him  aunswer, 
his  lawes  were  very  good,  and  that  his  cittie  keping  them, 
should  be  the  most    renowmed  of  the  worlde.      Lycurgus 
caused  this  oracle  to  be  written,  which  he  sent  to  Sparta. 
After  he  sacrificed  to  Apollo  againe  :  and  then  taking  leave 
of  his  friendes,  and  of  his  sonne,  he  determined  to  dye,  bicause 
his  cittizens  should  never  be  released  of  the  othe  they  had 
made  betweene  his  handes.     When  he  had  this  determina- 
tion, he  was  come  to  the  age,  wherein  a  man  hathe  strength 
enough  to  live  lenger  :  and  yet  was  olde  enough  also  to  dye 
if  he  would.     Wherefore  finding  him  selfe  happy  to  have 
obteined  his  desire,  he  willingly  pyned  him  selfe  to  death, 
by  abstinence,   and    lacke  of  meate.      For   he   thought  it 
meete,  that  the  very  death  of  great  personages  should  bring 
benefit  ever  to. the  common  weale,  and  that  the  ende  of  their 
life  should  be  no  more  idle,  or  unprofitable,  then  the  rest  of 
their  life  before :  nay  rather,  that  it  was  one  of  their  most 
meritorious  actes,  to  have  their  death  extolled  for  worthines. 
So  he  imagined,  that  his  death  would  be  the  perfection  and 
crowne  of  his  felicitie,  after  he  had  made  and  ordeined  so 
many  good  and  notable  lawes,  for  the  honour  and  benefit  of 
his  countrie  :  and  should  be  as  k  scale  of  confirmation  of  his 
lawe,  and  the  continuall  preservitour  of  his  cittie,  consider- 
ing all  his  cittizens  had  sworne  to  keepe  them  all  inviolably, 
untill  he  were  returned.     He  was  not  deceaved  of  his  hope, 
for  his  cittie  was  the  chiefest  of  the  worlde,  in  glorie  and 
honour  of  government,  by  the  space  of  five  hundredyeres. 
For  so  long  his  cittie  kept  his  lawes~^4thotrtrany  chaunge  or 
alteration  by  any  of  the  Kings  successours,  untill  king  Agis, 
the  Sonne  of  Archidamus  beganne  to  reigne.     For  the  crea- 
tion of  the  Ephores,  did  not  breake,  nor  discontinewe  any  of 
the  lawes  of  Lycurgus,  but  reduced  them  rather  to  a  more 
straight  and  strickt  order :  although  it  seemed  at  the  first 
that  the  Ephores  were  ordeined,  for  the  maintenaunce  and 
defence  of  the  libertie  of  the  people,  whereas  in  deede  they 
160 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

did  also  strengthen  the  authoritie  of  the  Kings  and  Senate.    LYCURGUS 
Nowe  in  the  raigne  of  king  Agis,  gold  and  silver  beganne  Money  cor- 
first  to  creepe  in  againe  to  the  cittie  of  Sparta,  by  meanes  of  rupteth  Ly- 
Lysander.     With  money  there  came  in  straight  covetousnes,  curgus  lawes. 
and  gredines  to  get  and  gather.     And  although  Lysander  See  more  in 
was  not  desirous  to  get  it,  nor  would  be  corrupted  for  any  Lysaudeis 
money :    yet  he  brought  riches  and   covetousnes   into    the  "*^' 
countrie,  and  filled  the  same  with  all  finenes,  by  bringing  in  Lysander 
great  store  of  golde  and  silver  from  the  warres,   directly  brought  in 
against  the  lawes  and  ordinaunces  of  Lycurffus.     The  which  f^^    |  ^&^"^^ 
so  long  as  they  were  in  force  and  use,  it  appered  that  the 
government  of  Sparta  seemed  not  to  be  a  pollicy  or  common 
weale,  but  rather  a  certaine  holy  place  and  order  of  religion. 
And  even  as  the  Poets  fayne,  that  Hercules  went  through 
the  world  with  his  clubbe,  and  lyons  skynne,  punishing  cruell 
robbers  and  unnaturall  tyrannes  :  so  in  like  case  with  a  litle 
scrowe  of  parchement,  and  a  poore  cape,  did  the  Spartans 
commaund  and  geve  lawes,  to  all  the  rest  of  Grece,  even 
with  their  good  liking  and  consent.     And  they  chased  the 
tyrannes  awaye,  which  usurped  tyrannicall  power  over  any 
of  their  citties,  and  did  decide  all  controversies,  and  often- 
times   pacified    their   seditions,    without    sending   out   one 
souldier,  but  only  a  simple  poore  ambassadour.     At  whose 
commaundement,  the  people  presently  assembled    like    the 
bees,  which  gather  together  about  their  King,  so  soone  as 
they  spye  him  :  they  did  then  so  greatly  reverence  the  good 
government  and  justice  of  the  Spartans.     Therefore  I  can 
but  wonder  much  at  those  which  saye,  the  cittie  of  Lace- 
daemon  could  obey  well,  but  not  commaunde  :  and  for  proofe 
they  alleage  wordes  of  king  Theopompus,  who  aunswered 
one  which  sayd,  that  Sparta  was  mainteined,  bicause  the 
Kings   could    commaund  well :    Naye  the  rather  (sayd  he)  Theopompus 
bicause  the  cittizens   can    obey  well.     For  men  commonly  wordes  of 
disdaine  to  obey  those,  which  are  not  wise  in  commaunding.  obeying  and 
So  that  the  faithfuU  obedience  of  the  subjectes,  dependeth  ■ 
much  upon  the  sufficient  commaundement  of  the  wise  prince,  r^  \ 
For  he  that  directeth  well,  must  needes  be  well  obeyed.    For  j^^g^^.  breed- 
like as  the  arte  of  a  good  rider,  is  to  make  his  horse  gentle,  eth  due 
and  ready  at  commaundement :   even  so  the  chicfest  pointe  obedience. 
X  161 


LYCURGUS 


Antisthenes, 
Socrates 
schollers 
wordes. 


The  founda- 
tion of  a  com- 
mon weale. 


LIVES    OF   THE   NOBLE 

belonging  to  a  prince,  is  to  teach  his  subjects  to  obey. 
Wherefore  the  Lacedaemonians  procured,  that  not  onely 
other  people  did  willingly  obey  them,  but  also  desired  to  be 
ruled,  and  commaunded  by  them.  For  they  asked  them, 
neither  shippes  nor  money,  nor  yet  did  send  them  any 
number  of  men  of  warre  to  compell  them,  but  onely  they 
sent  one  cittizen  of  Sparta  to  governe  them,  to  whom  all  the 
other  people  submitted  them  selves,  and  were  holpen  by  him 
in  their  necessitie,  as  fearing  and  reverencing  him.  In  this 
wise  the  Sicilians  were  holpen  by  Gysippus,  the  Chalcidians 
by  Brasidas,  and  all  the  Grecians  inhabiting  Asia,  by  Ly- 
sander,  Callicratidas,  and  by  Agesilaus,  who  were  called  the 
reformers  and  directors  of  princes,  peoples,  and  Kings,  unto 
whom  they  were  sent  here  and  there :  but  ever  they  had 
their  eye  upon  the  cittie  of  Sparta,  as  upon  the  most  perfect 
patterne  to  order  mans  life  by,  and  to  governe  a  common 
weale  after.  To  this  effect  tended  the  mery  worde  spoken 
in  jest  by  Stratonicus :  Who  said  he  did  order  the  Athe- 
nians to  tend  their  sacrifices,  and  the  Elians  to  tende  their 
games :  and  if  they  made  any  faulte  therein,  the  Lacedae- 
monians should  be  well  whipped.  That  was  merely  spoken, 
and  in  a  jesting  manner.  But  Antisthenes  (the  philosopher 
and  one  of  Socrates  scholers)  seeing  the  Thebans  growen 
very  hawtie  and  glorious,  after  that  they  had  conquered  the 
Lacedaemonians  in  the  jorney  of  Leuctres  :  Me  thinketh 
sayed  he,  these  Thebans  here  doe  like  the  schoole  boyes, 
which  bragge  and  rejoyce  when  they  have  a  litle  beaten 
their  master.  But  this  was  not  Lycurgus  meaning,  to  have 
his  cittie  to  commaunde  many.  But  he  thought  the  felicitie 
of  a  cittie,  as  of  a  private  man,  consisted  chiefly  in  the 
exercise  of  vertue,  and  in  the  unitie  of  the  inhabitants 
thereof.  He  framed  his  common  wealth  to  this  ende,  that 
his  cittizens  should  be  nobly  minded,  content  with  their 
owne,  and  temperate  in  their  doings,  that  thereby  they 
might  mainteine  and  keepe  themselves  long  in  safetie.  The 
self  same  intention  had  Plato,  Diogenes,  and  Zenon,  in 
setting  forth  their  bookes,  which  they  wrote  of  the  govern- 
ment of  common  weales :  and  so  had  likewise  many  other 
great  and  learned  men  which  have  ^vritten  of  the  same 
162 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

matter.     Howbeit  they  only  left  behinde  them,  wordes,  and   LYCURGUS 
written  bookes :  but  Lycurgus  contrariwise,  left  no  written 
bookes  nor  pamplets,  but  stablished  and  left  behinde  him,  a 
royall  forme  of  government,  which  no  man  ever  before  had 
invented,  nor  never  after  could  be  followed.     He  hath  made 
them  plainely  see,  a  whole  cittie  live  together,  and  governe 
it  selfe  philosophically,  according  to  the  true  rules  and  pre- 
ceptes  of  perfect  wisdome :  which  imagined,  that  true  wise- 
dome  was  a  thing  hanging  in  the  ayer,  and  could  not  visiblie 
be  scene  in  the  worlde.     Whereby  he  hath  worthily  excelled 
in  glorie  all  those,  which  ever  tooke  upon  them  to  write  or 
stablishe  the  government  of  a  common  weale.     And  there- 
fore sayeth  Aristotle,  that  after  his  death  they  did  him  lesse 
honour  in  Lacedaemonia,  then  he  had  deserved :  albeit  they 
did  him  all  the  honour  they  possibly  could  devise.     And  yet 
they  buylt  a  temple  for  him,  and  made  solemne  sacrifice  to 
him  every  yere,  as  unto  a  god.     More,  they  saye,  that  when  Divine 
the  ashes  of  his  bodie  were  brought  to  Sparta,  there  fell  honours  to 
straight  lightning  upon  his  tumbe  where  they  were  put :    Z^'^^g*^ 
which  they  had  not  often  scene  to  happen,  to  other  men  of  <jeath. 
name  after  their  decease,  saving  only  to  the  poet  Euripides, 
who  dying  in  Macedonia,  was  buried   neere  the  cittie  of 
Arethusa.     The  which  is  some  manifest  argument,  for  suche 
as  love  the  Poet,  to  laye  against  those  which   somewhat 
deprave  him,  seing  this  signe  came  to  him  after  his  death, 
which  had  happened  before  to  a  most  well  beloved  man  of 
the   goddes.      Some   saye  Lycurgus  died   in   the   cittie  of 
Cirrha.    But  Apollothemis  sayeth,  he  died  in  Elida.    Timaeus 
and  Aristoxenus  write,  he  ended  his  dayes  in  Creta.     And 
Aristoxenus  sayeth  further,  that  those  of  the  He  of  Creta 
doe  shewe  his  grave  in  the  place  which  they  call  Pergamia, 
by  the  broade  highe  wayes.     He  left  one  onely  begotten 
Sonne  named  Antiorus,  who  died  without  issue,  so  that  his  Antiorus 
house  and  name  fay  led  with  him.     But  his  neere  kinsemen  Lycurgus 
and  famillier  friendes,  did  set  up  a  company  or  brotherhood  sonne. 
in  memorie  of  him,  which  continued  a  long  time :  and  the 
dayes  wherein  they  assembled,  were  called  the  Lycurgides. 
There  is  another  Aristocrates  (the  sonne  of  Hipparchus)  who 
sayeth,  that  he  being  dead  in  Creta,  his  friendes  burned  his 

163 


LIVES    OF    THE    NOBLE 

LYCURGUS  bodie,  and  aftervvardes  threwe  his  ashes  into  the  sea,  accord- 
ing as  he  had  prayed  and  requested  them.     For  he  feared, 
that   if  any  parte  of  him  should   at  any  time  have  bene 
brought  to  Sparta,  the  inhabitans  would  have  sayed  he  was 
returned  againe,  and  thereby  would  have  thought  them  selves 
discharged   of  their   othe,    and    might   have    lawfully 
altered  the  lawes  which  he  had  appointed.     And 
this  is  the  discourse  and  ende  of  Lycurgus  life. 

THE  ENDE  OF  LYCURGUS  LIFE 


THE  LIFE  OF  NUMA  POMPILIUS 


In  what  time 
Numa  was. 
Cicerode  Or.  2 
and  Tuscul.  4, 
Liv.  Halic. 
lib.  2. 


Whether 
Pythagoras 
had  any  con- 
versation with 
Numa. 


HE  Historiographers  differ  marvelously  of 
the  time,  in  which  Numa  Pompilius 
raigned  King,  albeit  some  will  derive  from 
him  many  noble  houses  descended  in  Rome. 
For  one  Clodius,  who  wrote  the  booke  inti- 
tuled the  table  of  time,  affirmeth  that  the 
auncient  registers  of  the  cittie  of  Rome 
were  lost  when  it  was  taken  and  sacked  by 
the  Gaules :  and  that  those  which  are  extant  at  this  daye 
be  not  true,  but  were  only  made  by  men  desirous  to  gratifie 
some,  which  have  thrust  in  auncient  houses  and  families  of 
the  first  Romaines,  that  concerne  nothing  them  whom  they 
ment  to  represent.  On  the  other  side,  although  the  common 
opinion  be,  that  Numa  was  a  familier  friend  and  schoUer  of 
Pythagoras  the  philosopher,  yet  some  saye  he  was  never 
learned,  nor  had  any  knowledge  at  all  in  the  Greeke  tongue. 
And  yet  mainteining  that  it  is  possible  enovigh,  that  he  was 
so  well  borne,  and  had  suche  perfection  in  all  kind  of  vertue, 
that  he  never  neded  any  master :  and  though  he  had  neded, 
they  had  rather  attribute  the  honour  of  the  instructing  of 
this  King  unto  some  other  foreane  person,  that  was  more 
excellent  then  Pythagoras.  Other  saye,  that  Pythagoras 
the  philosopher  was  long  time  after  the  raigne  of  Numa,  and 
well  nighe  five  ages  after  him.  Howbeit  other  saye,  there 
164 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

was  another  Pythagoras  borne  in  Sparta  (who  having  wonne       NUMA 
the  pryse  of  running  at  the  games  Olympicall,  in  the  six-  POMPILIUS 
tenth  Olympiade,  and  the  third  yere  of  Numaes  raigne)  did  Pji^hagoras 
come  into  Italie,  where  he  kept  much  about  Numa,  and  did  *^|  seconde, 
assist  and  helpe  him  in  the  governing  and  ordering  of  his  ^orne^  taueht 
Realme.     By  meanes  whereof  there  be  many  customes  yet  of  Numa,  at 
the  Laconians,  mingled  with  the  Romaines,  which  this  second  Rome, 
Pythagoras  was  sayed  to  have  taught  him.     Nevertheles  it  is 
not  confessed  that  Numa  was  borne  of  the  Sabynes,  which 
they  saye  are  descended  from  the  Lacedaemonians.     So  it 
falleth  out  very  hard  to  agree  certainly  of  the  time  when 
Numa  was,  and  chiefly  for  suche  as  will  foUowe  the  rolle  or 
table  of  those,  which  from  Olympiades  to  Olympiades  have 
wonne   the   pryses  of  games  Olympicall :    considering   tlie 
rolle  or  table  that  they  have  at  this  present,  was  very  lately 
published  by  one  Hippias  an  Elian,  who  delivereth  no  reason 
or  argument  of  necessitie,  why  it  should  be  taken  for  an 
undoubted   trothe,  which  he  in  that  sorte  hath  gathered. 
Yet  we  will  not  leave  to  put  in  writing  those  things  worthie 
of  memorie,  which  we  could  gather  by  any  meanes  of  king 
Numa,  beginning  at  that  place  which  we  thought  to  be 
meetest.     It  was  no  we  sithence  Rome  was  buy  It,  seven  and 
thirtie    yeres   (for   so   long   time   raigned    Romulus)   when 
Romulus  the  fifte  of  the  moneth  of  luly  (which  they  call  The  death  of 
the  Nones  of  the  goates)  made  a  solemne  sacrifice  without  Romulus, 
the  cittie,  neere  to  a  certaine  place  commonly  called,  the 
goate  marshe.     As  all  the  whole  Senate,   with    the   most 
parte  of  the  people  were  present  at  this  sacrifice,  sodainely 
there  rose  in  the  ayer  a  very  great  tempest,  and  a  marvelous 
darcke  thicke  clowde,  which  fell  on  the  earthe  with  suche 
boysterous  windes,  stormes,  lightnings,  and  thunder:   that 
the  poore  common  people  being  affrayed  of  so  sore  a  tempest, 
dispersed  them  selves  sodainely,  running  here  and  there  for 
succour,  and  therewithall  king  Romulus  vanished  awaye  in 
suche  sorte,  that  he  was  never  after  scene  alive  nor  dead. 
This  brought  the   Senatours,  and  noble  men   whom  they 
called  Patricians,  into  great  suspition.     And  there  ranne  a 
fowle  tale  among  the  common  people,  howe  thev  had  a  long 
time  borne  very  impaciently  to  be  subjects  to  a  King,  bicause 

1G5 


NUMA 
POMPILIUS 


In  the  life  of 
Romulus  he 
is  named  Pro- 
culus,  f. 

Dissention  at 
Rome  about 
choosing  of 
their  King. 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

them  selves  would  have  had  and  taken  upon  them  some 
soveraine  authoritie,  and  that  for  this  cause  they  had  killed 
king  Romulus.     Adding  somewhat  more  unto  it,  howe  a 
litle  before  he  had  used  them  more  roughely,  and  commaunded 
them   more   straightly  then   he  was  wont  or  accustomed. 
Nevertheles  they  found   the   meanes  to  quenche  all  these 
bruites  and  murmurings,  by  doing  divine  honour  and  sacri- 
fice unto  him,  as  one  not  dead,  but  passed  to  a  better  life. 
To  confirme  this,  one  of  the  noblest  men  among  them  called 
Proclus  came  in,  and  by  othe  affirmed  before  all  the  people, 
that  he  sawe  Romulus  ascending  up  into  heaven,  armed  at 
all  peces,  and  that  he  heard  a  voyce  saye  :  From  henceforth 
call  him  Quirinus.     This  being  thus  appeased,  there  sprange 
up  another  trouble,  to  knowe  whom  they  should  choose  in 
his  place.     For  the  straungers  which  were  come  then  from 
other  places  to  dwell  in  Rome,  were  not  yet  throughly  joyned 
to  the  naturall  borne  Romaines  :  in  so  muche,  as  the  common 
people  dyd  not  only  waver,  and  stagger  up  and  down  in 
opinion,  but  the  Senatours  also  (that  were  many  and  of  divers 
nations)  did  enter  into  a  suspition  one  of  another.     These 
things  notwithstanding  they  all  agreed  in  this,  that  of  neces- 
sitie  they  must  choose  a  King :   howbeit  in  the  rest  they 
differed  much,  not  only  whom  they  should  choose,  but  also 
of  what  nation  he  should  be.    For  those  which  were  the  first 
founders  and  buylders  of  the  cittie  of  Rome  with  Romulus, 
could  in  no  wise  abide,  nor  suffer,  that  the  Sabynes  (to 
whom  they  had  divided  parte  of  their  landes,  and  a  moytie 
of  their  cittie)  should  attempt  and  presume  to  commaund 
them,  whom  they  dyd  receyve  and  associate  into  their  com- 
pany and  felowshippe.    The  Sabynes  alledged  on  thother  side 
for  them,  a  good  reason,  and  such  as  caried  great  proba- 
bilitie.      Which  was,  that  never  sence  the  death  of  their 
king  Tatius,  they  neither  had  in  any  thing  disobeyed  nor 
disquieted  king  Romulus,  but  had  suffered  him  to  raigne 
peaceably :    and  therefore  Romulus   being   nowe   deceased, 
reason  would  that  the  newe  King  should  be  chosen  of  their 
nation.     And  that  albeit  the  Romaines  had  receyved  them 
into  their  cittie,  they  could  not  say  therefore,  that  in  time 
of  this  association,  they  were  lesse  to  be  reckoned  of  in  any 
166 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

thing,  than  them  selves.     Further  they  added,  that  in  joyn-        NUMA 
ing  with  them,  the  Romaines  had  doubly  increased  their  POMPILIUS 
might  and  power,  and  had  made  a  bodie  of  a  people,  which 
deserved  the  honour  and  title  of  a  cittie.     These  were  the 
causes  of  their  contention.     But  to  prevent  that  of  this  con- 
tention there  might  growe  no  confusion  in  the  cittie,  if  it 
should  remaine  without  an  head  to  commaund :  the  Sena- 
tours  which  were   a   hundred  and   fiftie   in  number,  gave  Livie  sayeth 
counsell  that  every  one  of  them  by  turnes,  one  after  another,  but  a  hun- 
should  carie  the  royall  state  of  the  King,  and  all  the  showes  *^^®*^- 
and  ornaments  of  his  majestic,  and  should  doe  the  ordinarie  Dionysius 
sacrifices  of  the  King,  and  dispatche  all  causes  sixe  howers  in 
the  daye,  and  sixe  howers  in  the  night,  as  the  King  before  ^^"^,^5"  "I 
had  used.     Thus  they  thought  it  best  to  devide  the  rule,  jjomuhis 
that  one  might  have  asmuch  power  as  the  other,  aswell  in  affreeth  with 
respect  of  them  selves,  as  also  for  regarde  of  the  people.  Dionysius. 
For  they  imagined,  that  the  chaunging  and  removing  thus 
of  this  regall  dignitie,  and  passing  it  from  man  to  man, 
would  clene  take  awaye  envie  among  them,  and  make  every  of 
them  to  rule  temperately,  and  uprightly  see,  that  in  one, 
and  the  selfe  same  daye  and  night,  every  of  them  should  be 
a  King  and  private  persone  also.     The  Romaines  call  this 
manner  of  regiment  in  vacation,  Interregnum  :  as  you  would  interregnum. 
saye,  rule  for  the  time.     Nowe  albeit  their  government  was 
very  modest  and  civill,  yet  they  could  not  for  all  that  keepe 
them  selves  from  falling  into  the  suspition,  and  slaunder  of 
the  people :  who  gave  it  out  straight,  that  this  was  a  fine 
devise  of  theirs,  to  chaunge  by  this  meanes  the  rule  of  the 
Realme  into  a  fewe  noble  mens  handes,  to  the  ende  that  the 
whole  authoritie  and  government  of  all   publicke   causes, 
should  remaine  still  in  them  selves,  bicause  it  grieved  them 
to  be  subject  to  a  King.     And  in  the  ende,  the  two  partes 
of  the  cittie  came  to  this  agreement :  that  the  one  parte 
should  choose  one  of  the  bodie  of  the  other,  to  be  the  King. 
This  course  they  liked  very  well,  aswell  for  the  pacification 
of  present  sturre  and  dissention  amongest  them  selves,  as  for 
procuring  equalitie  of  affection,  and  sturring  up  a  likenes  of 
goodwill  in  the  King  that  thus  indifferently  should  be  chosen  : 
whereby  he  should  love  the  one  parte  for  that  they  had 

167 


NUMA 
POMPILIUS 


Numa  chosen 


King. 


Numa  borne 
in  the  cittie 
of  Cures. 

Quirites  why 
so  called. 


The  life  and 
manners  of 
Numa  before 
his  raigne. 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

chosen  him,  and  likewise  the  other  parte  for  that  he  was  of 
their  nation.  The  Sabynes  were  the  first,  which  referred 
the  election  to  the  Romaines  choyse :  and  the  Romaines 
thought  it  better  to  chuse  one  of  the  nation  of  the  Sabynes, 
then  to  have  a  Romaine  chosen  by  the  Sabynes.  After  they 
had  consulted,  they  determined  amongest  them  selves :  and 
did  choose  Numa  Pompilius  one  of  the  bodye  of  the  Sabynes 
to  be  King,  who  was  none  of  the  number  of  them  which 
came  to  dwell  at  Rome,  howbeit  he  was  a  man  so  famous  for 
his  vertue,  that  the  Sabynes  so  soone  as  they  named  him, 
did  receyve  him  more  willingly,  then  they  who  had  chosen 
him.  After  they  had  thus  published  their  election,  the  first 
and  chiefest  persones  of  the  one  and  the  other  side,  were 
chosen  out  to  goe  unto  him.  Now  Numa  Pompilius  was 
borne  in  one  of  the  chiefest  and  best  citties  which  the 
Sabynes  had,  called  Cures,  whereupon  the  Romaines,  and 
their  fellowes  the  Sabynes,  were  called  afterwardes  Quirites, 
and  he  was  the  sonne  of  Pomponius  a  noble  man,  the 
youngest  of  foure  brethern  :  being  by  the  secret  worcking  of 
the  goddes,  borne  on  the  very  daye,on  the  which  Rome  was  first 
founded  by  Romulus,  which  was  the  one  and  twenty  daye  of 
Aprill.  This  man  being  naturally  geven  and  inclined  unto 
all  vertue,  did  yet  increase  the  same,  by  studie,  and  all  kynde 
of  good  discipline :  and  by  the  exercise  thereof,  and  of  true 
pacience,  and  right  philosophic,  he  did  marvelously  adorne 
him  selfe  and  his  manners.  For  he  did  not  only  clere  his 
soule,  and  minde,  of  all  passions  and  vices  commonly  used  in 
the  worlde :  but  he  conquered  in  him  selfe  all  heates,  vio- 
lence, and  covetousnes.  And  would  neither  seeke  nor  usurpe, 
that  which  was  an  other  mans,  a  thing  at  that  time  honoured 
among  the  most  barbarous  people :  but  thought  that  to  be 
the  true,  and  right  victorie  in  man,  first  to  conquer  and 
commaund  him  selfe  by  judgement  and  reason,  and  then  to 
subdue  all  covetousnes  and  greedines.  Having  therfore  this 
opinion,  he  would  in  no  wise  have  in  his  house  any  super- 
fluity or  finenes.  He  became  to  every  man  that  would 
employe  him  (aswell  straunger  as  his  owne  countrie  man)  a 
wise  counsaillour,  and  an  upright  judge.  He  bestowed  his 
leysure,  not  to  followe  his  owne  delight,  or  to  gather  goods 
168 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

together :    but  to  serve   the  goddes,  and   to  behold   their       NUMA 
celestiall  nature  and  power,  as  much  as  mans  reason  and   POMPILIUS 
understanding  could  comprehend.    Thereby  he  got  so  great  a 
name  and  reputation,  that  Tatius  (which  was  king  of  Rome 
with  Romulus)  having  but  one  onely  daughter  called  Tatia,  Tatia  the 
made  him  his  sonne  in  lawe.    Howbeit  this  mariage  put  him  wifeof  Numa. 
in  no  such  jolity,  that  he  would  dwel  at  Rome  with  his  father 
in  lawe,  but  rather  kept  at  home  at  his  own  house  in  the 
countrie  of  the  Sabynes,  there  to  serve  and  cherishe  his  olde 
father  with  his  wife  Tatia  :  who  for  her  parte  also  liked  better, 
to  live  quietly  with  her  husband  being  a  private  man,  then  to 
goe  to  Rome  where  she  might  have  lived  in  much  honour 
and  glorie,  by  meanes  of  the  King  her  father.     She  died  as 
it  is  reported,  13  yeres  after  she  was  maried.     After  her 
deathe,  Numa  leaving  to  dwell  in  the  cittie,  was  better 
contented  to  live  in  the  country  alone,  and  solitarie,  and  gave 
him  self  to  walke  much  in  the  fields  and  woddes  consecrated 
to  the  godds,  as  one  desirous  to  leade  alone  life,  farre  from  the 
companie  of  men.    Wherupon  Avas  raised  (in  my  opinion)  that 
which  is  spoken  of  him,  and  of  the  goddesse  Egeria.     That 
it  was  not  for  any  straungenes,  or  melancholines  of  nature, 
that  Numa  withdrew  him  self  from  the  conversation  and  com- 
pany of  men,  but  bicause  he  had  found  another  more  honor- 
able and  holy  society  of  the  Nymphe,  and  goddesse  Egeria,  Numa  con- 
who  had  done  him,  as  they  saye,  that  honour,  as  to  make  him  versant  with 
her  husband  :  with  whom  as  his  beloved  darling  it  is  sayed  he  j^^g^^    ^^^^ 
enjoyed  happy  dayes,  and  by  dayly  frequenting  of  her  com- 
pany, he  was  inspired  with  the  love  and  knowledge  of  all  celes- 
tiall things.    Surely,  these  devises  are  much  like  unto  certain 
old  fables  of  the  Phrygians,  which  they  having  learned  from  the 
father  to  the  sonne,  doe  love  to  tell  of  one  Atis  :  of  the  Bithyn- 
ians,  of  one  Herodotus  :  of  the  Arcadians,  of  one  Endymion  : 
and  of  many  other  such  like  men,  who  in  their  lives  were  taken 
for  sayntes,  and  beloved  of  the  goddes.     Notwithstanding,  it 
is  likely,  that  the  goddes  love  neither  birdes,  nor  horse,  but 
men,  and  have  sometimes  a  liking  to  be  familliar  with  perfect 
good  men,  and  doe  not  disdaine  sometime  the  conversation  Goddes 
of  suche  as  be  holye,  religious,  and  devoute.     But  to  beleeve  familher  with 
the  goddes  have  carnall  knowledge,  and  doe  delight  in  the  "^^°" 
Y  169 


LIVES    OF    THE    NOBLE 

NUMA  outward  beavvtie  of  creatures,  that  seemeth  to  carie  a  very 
POMPILIUS  harde  beliefe.  Yet  the  wise  Egyptians  thincke  it  probable 
enough  and  likely,  that  the  spirite  of  the  goddes  hath  geven 
originall  of  generation  to  women,  and  doe  beget  fruite  of 
their  bodies :  howbeit  they  holde  that  a  man  can  have  no 
corporall  companie  with  any  divine  nature.  Wherein  they 
doe  not  consider,  that  every  thing  that  joyneth  together, 
doth  deliver  againe  a  like  substaunce,  to  that  wherewith  it 
was  joyned.  This  notwithstanding,  it  is  mete  we  should 
beleeve  the  godds  beare  good  will  to  men,  and  that  of  it 
doth  spring  their  love,  whereby  men  saye  the  goddes  love 
those  whose  manners  they  purifie,  and  inspire  with  vertue. 
And  they  doe  not  offende,  which  fayne  that  Phorbas, 
Hyacinthus  and  Admetus,  were  sometimes  the  lovers  of 
Apollo,  and  also  Hippolytus  the  Sicyonian :  of  whom  they 
reporte,  that  ever  when  he  passed  over  the  arme  of  the  sea 
which  lieth  betweene  the  citties  of  Sicyona,  and  of  Cirrha, 
the  god  which  knewe  he  came,  rejoyced,  and  caused  Pythia 
the  prophetesse  to  pronounce  these  heroycall  verses, 

I  knowe  full  well,  my  deare  Hippolytus, 
returnes  by  sea,  my  minde  divineth  thus. 

Who  are  be-  It  is  sayd  also  that  Pan  was  in  love  with  Pindarus  and  his 
AA  ^^  *^^     verses,  and  that  the  goddes  honored  the  poets  Hesiodus,  and 

^^    ^^'  Archilocus,  after  their   death  by  the  Muses.      They  saye 

moreover,  that  ^Esculapius  laye  with  Sophocles  in  his  life 
time,  and  at  this  daye  they  doe  yet  showe  many  tokens 
thereof:  and  after  his  death,  another  god  (as  it  is  reported) 
made  him  to  be  honorably  buried.  Nowe  if  they  graunte, 
that  such  things  maye  be  true  :  how  can  we  refuse  to  beleeve, 
that  some  goddes  have  bene  familliar  with  Zaleucus,  Minos, 
Zoroastres,  Lycurgus,  Numa,  and  such  other  like  personages, 
which  have  governed  kingdomes,  and  stablished  common 
weales  ?  and  it  is  not  unlike  that  the  goddes  in  deede  dyd 
company  with  them,  to  inspire  and  teache  them  many 
notable  things,  and  that  they  did  drawe  neere  unto  these 
Poets,  and  players  of  the  harpe,  that  made  and  played  many 
dolefuU  and  joyfuU  ditties,  at  the  least  for  their  sporte  and 
pleasure  onely,  if  ever  they  came  neere  them.  Nevertheles 
170 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

if  any  man  be  of  other  opinion,  the  waye  is  open  and  large  as       NUMA 
Bacchylides  sayed,  to  thincke  and  saye  as  he  lust.     For  my  POMPILIUS 
selfe  I  doe  finde,  that  which  is  written  of  Lycurgus,  Numa, 
and  other  suche  persones,  not  to  be  without  likelyhood  and 
probabilitie :    who  having  to  governe  rude,  churlishe,  and 
stifFe   necked   people,  and  purposing  to  bring  in  straunge 
novelties  into  the  governments  of  their  countries,  did  fayne 
wisely  to  have  conference  with  the  godds,  considering  this 
fayning  fell  to  be  profitable  and  beneficiall  to  those  them 
selves,    whom    they    made   to   beleeve   the    same.      But   to 
returne  to  our  historic.     Numa  was  fourty  yeres  olde,  when 
the  ambassadours  of  Rome  were  sent  to  present  the  King- 
dome   unto    him,   and   to  intreate  him  to  accept  thereof. 
Proclus,  and  V'elesus,  were  the  ambassadours  that  were  sent.  Proclus  and 
One  of  the  which  the  people  looked  should  have  bene  chosen  Velesus  am- 
r      xr-         u-  4-1  t  r>  1  -J      J- J   c  I,     bassadours  to 

tor  Knig,  bicause  those  oi  Komulus  side,  did  lavour  muche  ^^^j.  ^^^^^ 

Proclus  :  and  those  of  Tatius  parte  favored  Velesus,     Nowe  the  kingdom, 
they  used  no  long  speache  unto  him,  bicause  they  thought 
he  would  have  bene  glad  of  suche  a  great  good  fortune.    But 
contrarely  it  was  in  deede  a  very  hard  thing,  and  required 
great  persuasions,  and  much  intreatie,  to  move  a  man  which 
had  all  way  es  lived  quietly,  and  at  ease,  to  accept  the  regi- 
ment of  a  cittie,  which  as  a  man  would  saye,  had  bene  raysed 
up  and  growen  by  warres,  and  martiall   dedes,     Wherfore 
he  aunswered  them   in  the  presence  of  his  father,  and  one 
other  of  his  kinsemen  called  Martins  in  this  sorte :  Chaunge  The  oration 
and  alteration  of  mans  life  is  ever  daungerous :  but  for  him  ^J^^""?**,'| 
that  lacketh  nothing  necessarie,  nor  hath  cause  to  complaine  doursreftisina' 
of  his  present  state,  it  is  a  great  follie  to  leave  his  olde  to  be  King, 
acquainted  trade  of  life,  and  to  enter  into  another  newe 
and  unknowen,  if  there  were  no  other  but  this  only  respect : 
that  he  leaveth  a  certaintie,  to  venter  upon  an  uncertainty. 
Howbeit  there  is  further  matter  in  this,  that  the  daungers 
and   perills  of  this   kingdom  which  they  offer  me,  are  not 
altogether  uncertain,  if  we  wil  looke  backe  what  happened 
unto  Romulus.     Who  was  not  unsuspected   to  have  layed 
waite,  to  have  had  Tatius  his  fellow  and  companion  mur- 
dered :  and  now  after  Romulus  death,  the  Senatours  selves 
are   mistrusted    to  have    killed   him   on  the  other  side   by 

171 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

NUMA  treason.  And  yet  they  saye  it,  and  singe  it  every  where : 
POMPILIUS  that  Romulus  was  the  sonne  of  a  god,  that  at  his  birthe  he 
was  miraculously  preserved,  and  afterwardes  he  was  as  in- 
crediblie  brought  up.  Whereas  for  my  owne  parte,  I  doe 
confesse,  I  was  begotten  by  a  mortall  man,  and  was  fostered, 
brought  up,  and  taught  by  men  as  you  know :  and  these  fewe 
qualities  which  they  prayse  and  commend  in  me,  are  condi- 
tions farre  unmete  for  a  man  that  is  to  raigne.  I  ever  loved 
a  solitarie  life,  quiet  and  studie,  and  did  exempt  my  selfe 
from  worldly  causes.  All  my  life  time  I  have  sought  and 
loved  peace  above  all  things,  and  never  had  to  doe  with  any 
warres.  My  conversation  hath  bene  to  companie  with  men, 
which  meete  only  to  serve  and  honour  the  goddes,  or  to 
laughe  and  be  merie  one  with  another,  or  els  to  spende  their 
time  in  their  private  affayers,  or  otherwise  sometime  to 
attend  their  pastures,  and  feeding  of  their  cattell.  Whereas 
Romulus  (my  Romaine  lordes)  hath  left  you  many  warres 
begonne,  which  peradventure  you  could  be  contented  to 
spare :  yet  now  to  mainteine  the  same,  your  citie  had  neede 
of  a  martiall  King,  active,  and  strong  of  bodye.  Your 
people  moreover,  through  long  custome,  and  the  great 
increase  they  are  geven  unto  by  feates  of  amies,  desire 
nought  els  perhappes  but  warres :  and  it  is  plainely  scene, 
they  seeke  still  to  growe,  and  commaund  their  neighbours. 
So  that  if  there  were  no  other  consideration  in  it,  yet  were  it 
a  mere  mockerie  for  me,  to  goe  to  teache  a  cittie  at  this 
present  to  serve  the  goddes,  to  love  justice,  to  hate  warres, 
and  to  flye  violence :  when  it  rather  hath  neede  of  a  conquer- 
ing captaine,  then  of  a  peaceable  King.  These  and  suche 
other  like  reasons  and  persuasions  Numa  alleaged,  to  dis- 
charge him  selfe  of  the  Kingdome  which  they  offred  him. 
Howljeit  the  ambassadours  of  the  Romaines  most  humbly 
besought  and  prayed  him  with  all  instance  possible,  that  he 
would  not  be  the  cause  of  another  newe  sturre,  and  com- 
motion among  them,  seeing  both  partes  in  the  cittie  have 
geven  their  consent  and  liking  to  him  alone,  and  none  other 
to  be  their  King.  Moreover,  when  the  ambassadours  had 
left  him  upon  this  sute,  his  father,  and  Martins  his  kinseman, 
beganne  also  privately  to  perswade  him,  that  he  should  not 
172 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

refuse  so  good  and  godly  an  offer.     And  albeit  he  was  con-        NUMA 

tented  with  liis  present  state,  and  desired  to  be  no  richer  POMPILIUS 

than  he  was,   nor  coveted  no  princely  honour  nor  glorie, 

bicause  he  sought  only  most  famous  vertue :  yet  he  must 

needes  thincke,  that  to  rule  well,  was  to  doe  the  goddes  good 

service,  whose  will  it  was  to  employe  the  justice  they  knewe 

in  him,  and  not  to  suffer  it  to  be  idle.     Refuse  not  therefore 

(quoth  they)  this  royall  dignitie,  which  to  a  grave  and  wise 

man  is  a  goodly  field,  to  bring  forth  many  commendable 

workes  and  fruites.    There  you  maye  doe  noble  service  to  the 

godds,  to  humble  the  heartes  of  these  martiall  people,  and  to 

bring  them  to  be  holy  and  religious  :  for  they  readely  tume, 

and  easely  conforme  them  selves  unto  the  nature  of  their 

prince.      They   dearely   loved   Tatius,   although   he    was   a 

straunger :  they  have  consecrated    a   memorie   to   Romulus 

with  divine  honours,  which  they  make  unto  him  at  this  daye. 

And  it  maye  be,  that  the  people  seeing  them  selves  con- 

querers,  will  be  full  enough  of  warres :  and  the  Romaines 

being  nowe  full  of  spoyles  and  triumphes,  will  be  glad  to 

have  a  gentle  prince,  and  one  that  loveth  justice,  that  they 

maye  thenceforth  live  in  peace,  under  good  and  holy  lawes. 

And  yet  if  it  be  otherwise,  that  their  hartes  be  still  full  of 

heate  and  furie  to  fight :  is  it  not  better  to  turne  this  their 

desire  to  make  warres  some  other  waye,  when  a  man  hathe 

the  bridle  in  his  owne  handes  to  doe  it,  and  to  be  a  meane  in 

the  meane  time  to  joyne  the  countrie,  and  all  the  nation  of 

the  Sabynes,  in  perpetuall  love  and  amitie,  with  so  mighty 

and  florishing  a  cittie  ?   besides  all  these  persuasions   and 

reasons,  there  were  many  signes  also  (as  they  saye)  which 

promised  him  good  lucke,  together  with  the  earnest  affection 

and  liking  of  his  owne  countrie  cittizens.     Who,  so  soone  as 

they  understoode  the  coming,  and  commission  of  the  ambas- 

sadours  of  Rome,  tliey  importunately  desired  him  to  goe 

thither,  and  to  accept  the  offer  of  the  Kingdome :  that  he 

might  more  straightly  unite  and  incorporate  them  together 

with  the  Romaines.     ^Vhereupon,  Numa  accepted  the  King-  N^uma  begiu- 

dome.     Then  after  he  had  done  sacrifice  to  the  goddes,  he  \'^*^  his  kmg- 

„  1  !••  1-r.  11       dome  with 

set  lorwardes  on  his  journey    towardes  Rome:    wliere  the  sen-ice  of  tlie 

people  and  Senate  went  out  to  meete  him,  with  a  wonderfull  goddes. 

173 


NUMA 
POMPILIUS 


Numa  was 
consecrated 
by  the 
Augures. 


The  garde  of 
Celeres  dis- 
charged by 
Numa. 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

desire  to  see  him.  The  women  at  his  entrie,  went  blessing 
of  him,  and  singing  of  his  prayses.  They  dyd  sacrifice  for 
him,  in  all  the  temples  of  the  goddes.  There  was  neither 
man  nor  woman  but  seemed  to  be  as  joyfull  and  glad  :  as  if  a 
newe  Realme,  and  not  a  newe  Kinge,  had  bene  come  to  the 
cittie  of  Rome,  Thus  was  he  brought  with  this  open  joye, 
and  rejoycing,  unto  the  market  place,  where  one  of  the 
Senatours,  which  at  that  time  was  regent,  called  Spurius 
Vettius,  made  them  pronounce  his  open  election :  and  so 
by  one  consent  he  was  chosen  King,  with  all  the  voyces  of 
the  people.  Then  were  brought  unto  him  the  tokens  of 
honour  and  dignitie  of  the  King.  But  he  him  selfe  com- 
maunded  they  should  be  stayed  a  while,  saying :  He  must 
first  be  confirmed  King  by  the  goddes.  Then  he  tooke  the 
wise  men  and  priests,  with  whom  he  went  up  into  the  Capitoll, 
which  that  time  was  yet  called  mounte  Tarpeian.  And  there, 
the  chiefest  of  the  soothesayers  called  Augures,  turned  him 
towardes  the  southe,  having  his  face  covered  with  a  veyle, 
and  stoode  behinde  him,  laying  his  right  hande  upon  his 
heade,  and  praying  to  the  goddes  that  it  would  please  them 
to  declare  their  willes  by  flying  of  birdes,  or  some  other 
token  concerning  this  election  :  and  so  the  soothesayer  cast 
his  eyes  all  about,  as  farre  as  he  could  possiblie  d^iscerne. 
During  all  this  time  there  was  a  marvelous  silence  in  the 
market  place,  although  then  an  infinite  number  of  people 
were  assembled  there  together,  attending  with  great  devotion 
what  the  issue  of  this  divination  would  be  :  untill  there 
appeared  unto  them  on  the  right  hande,  good  and  lucky 
birdes,  which  did  confirme  the  election.  Then  Numa  putting 
on  his  regall  robes,  came  downe  from  mounte  Tarpeian,  into 
the  market  place,  where  all  the  people  receyved  him  with 
wonderfull  showtes  of  joye,  as  a  man  the  most  holy,  and  best 
beloved  of  the  goddes  that  they  could  have  chosen.  So 
having  taken  the  royall  seate  of  the  Kingdome,  his  first  acte 
was  this.  That  he  discharged  the  garde  of  the  three  hundred 
souldiers,  which  Romulus  had  allwayes  about  his  persone, 
called  Celeres  :  saying,  he  would  not  mistrust  them  which 
trusted  him,  neither  would  he  be  King  over  people,  which 
should  mistrust  him.  His  second  acte  was,  that  he  did  adde 
174 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

to  the  two  priests  of  lupiter  and   Mars,  a  thirde,  in  the       NUMA 
honour  of  Romulus,  who  was  called  Flamen  Quirinalis.     For  POMPILIUS 
the  auncient  Romaines  also  called  their  priests,  instituted  in  Flamen 
the  olde  time,  Flamines,  by  reason  of  certaine  litle  narrowe  Quirinalis 
hattes  which  they  did  weare  on  their  heades,  as  if  they  had  of^j^u^na** 
called  them  Pilamines :  for  Pilos  in  Greeke  signifieth  a  hatte. 
And  at  that  time  (as  they  saye)  there  were  many  moe  Greeke 
wordes  mingled  with  the  Latine,  then  there  are  at  this  daye. 
For  they  called  the  mantells  the  Kings  did  weare  Loenas. 
And  luba  sayeth  that  it  is  the  very  same  which  the  Grecians 
call  Chlce7ias,  and  that  the  younge  boye  which  was  a  servaunte 
in  the  temple  of  lupiter,  was  called  Camillus,  as  some  of  the 
Grecians  doe  yet  call  the  god  Mercuric,  bicause  he  is  servaunt 
of  the  godds.     Now  Numa  having  done  these  things  at  his 
first  entrie  into  his  Kingdome,  still  to  winne  further  favour 
and  goodwill  of  the  people :  beganne  immediately  to  frame 
his  cittizens  to  a  certaine  civilitie,  being  as  iron  wrought  to  Numa  induc- 
softenes,  and  brought  them  from  their  violent  and  warlike  eth  civill  and 
desires,  to  temperate  and  civill  manners.     For  out  of  doubt,  ^"'^* 
Rome  was  properly  that,  which  Plato  ascribeth  to  a  cittie  Plato  de  Rep. 
full  of  trouble  and  pryde.     For,  first  it  was  founded  by  the        ^' 
most  coragious  and  Avarlike  men  of  the  worlde,  which  from 
all  partes  were  gathered  there  together,  in  a  most  desperate 
boldnes :  and  afterwards  it  increased,  and  grewe  strong,  by 
armes  and  continuall  warres,  like  as  pyles  driven  into  the 
grounde,  which  the  more  they  are  rammed  in,  the  further 
they  enter,  and  sticke  the  faster.     Wherefore  Numa  judging 
it  no  small  nor  light  enterprise,  to  plucke  downe  the  hawty 
stomacks  of  so  fierce  and  violent  a  people,  and  to  frame  them 
unto  a  sobre  and  quiet  life  :    dyd  seeme  to  worcke  it  by 
meanes  of  the  goddes,  with  drawing  them  on  thereto  by  litle 
and  litle,  and  pacifying  of  their  whotte  and  fierce  corages  to 
fight,  with  sacrifices,  feastes,  dauncings,  and  common  proces- 
sions, wherein  he  celebrated  ever  him  selfe.     In  the  which 
together  with  their  devotion,  there  was  mingled  nowe  and 
then,  pastime  and  pleasure :    and  sometimes  he  layed  the 
terrour  and  feare  of  the  goddes  before  their  eyes,  making 
them  beleeve  that  he  had  seene  straunge  visions,  or  that  he 
had  heard  voyces,  by  which  the  goddes  dyd  threaten  them 

175 


Numa  and 
Pythagoras 
institutions 
muche  a  like. 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

NUMA  witli  some  great  troubles  and  plagues,  allwayes  to  pull  downe 
POMPILIUS  and  humble  their  heartes,  unto  the  feare  of  the  goddes. 
This  was  the  cause  why  they  thought  afterwardes  that  he 
had  learned  his  wisdome  of  Pythagoras  the  philosopher : 
bicause  the  greatest  parte  of  the  philosophic  of  the  one,  and 
of  the  government  of  the  other,  consisted  in  suche  ceremonies, 
and  divine  studies.  They  reporte  also  that  Numa  dyd  put 
on  the  outwarde  showe  and  semblaunce  of  Pythagoras  holi- 
nes,  as  following  his  intention  and  example.  For  Pythagoras 
as  they  saye,  made  an  eagle  so  tame  and  gentle,  that  she 
would  stoupe,  and  come  downe  to  him  by  certaine  voyces,  as 
she  flewe  in  the  ayer  over  his  head.  And  that  passing 
through  the  assembly  of  the  games  Olympicall,  he  shewed 
her  thighe  of  golde,  and  many  other  prety  feates  and  deedes 
they  tell  of,  which  seemed  to  be  wonderfull,  and  for  which 
Timon  Phliasian  hath  written  these  verses  of  him : 

Pji;hagoras  which  loved  to  dwell  in  dignitie, 

and  had  an  harte  to  glorie  bent,  and  past  in  pollecie, 

Muche  like  a  man  which  sought,  by  charming  to  enchaunte, 

did  use  this  arte,  to  winne  mens  mindes,  which  unto  him  did  hauute. 

His  grave  and  pleasaunt  tongue,  in  sugred  speache  did  flowe, 

whereby  he  drewe  most  mindes  of  men,  to  bent  of  his  owne  bowe. 

Even  so  the  fayned  fable  of  Numa,  which  he  so  cunningly 
disguised,  was  about  the  love  of  a  goddesse,  or  some  Nymphe 
of  the  mountaine :  with  whom  he  seemed  to  have  certaine 
secret  meetings  and  talke,  whereof  we  have  spoken  before. 
And  it  is  sayed  he  muche  frequented  the  Muses  in  the  woddes. 
For  he  would  saye,  he  had  the  most  parte  of  his  revelations 
of  the  Muses,  and  he  taught  the  Romaines  to  reverence  one 
of  them  above  all  the  rest,  who  was  called  Tacita,  as  ye 
would  saye,  ladye  silence.  It  seemeth  he  invented  this,  after 
the  example  of  Pythagoras,  who  did  so  specially  commaund, 
and  recomend  silence  unto  his  schollers.  Againe,  if  we  con- 
sider what  Numa  ordeined  concerning  images,  and  the  repre- 
sentation of  the  goddes,  it  is  alltogether  agreable  unto  the 
doctrine  of  Pythagoras  :  who  thought  that  god  was  neither 
sensible,  nor  mortall,  but  invisible,  incorruptible,  and  only 
intelligible.  And  Numa  dyd  forbid  the  Romaines  also  to 
beleeve,  that  god  had  ever  forme,  or  likenes  of  beast  or  man. 

176 


Numa  wor- 
shipped Tacita 
one  of  the 

Muses. 

Pythagoras 
taught  his 
schollers  to 
kepe  silence. 

Pythagoras 
opinion  of 
God. 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

So  that  in  those  former  times,  there  was  in  Rome  no  image  of      NUMA 
god,  either  painted  or  graven  :  and  it  was  from  the  beginning  POMPILIUS 
a  hundred  three  score  and  tenne  yeres,  that  they  had  buylt  Numa  for- 
temples  and  chappels  unto  the  godds  in  Rome,  and  yet  there  l^^d  images 
was  neither  picture  nor  image  of  god  within  them.      For  ^     **  * 
they  tooke  it  at  the  first  for  a  sacriledge,  to  present  heavenly 
things  by  earthely  formes :    seeing  we  cannot  possibly  any 
waye  attaine  to  the  knowledge  of  god,  but  in  minde  and 
understanding.     The  very  sacrifices  which   Numa  ordeined, 
were  altogether  agreable,  and  like  unto  the  manner  of  serving 
of  the  goddes,  which  the  Pythagorians  used.     For  in  their 
sacrifices  they  spilt  not  the   bloude,  but   they  did   theirs 
commonly,  with  a  litle  meale,  a  litle  sheading  of  wine  and 
milke,  and  with  suche  other  light  things.     Suche  as  affirme 
that  those  two  men  did  much  company  and  were  famillier 
together,  doe  laye  further  proofes  and  arguments  for  the 
same.      The  first  is  this :    That   the   Romaines  did   make  Proofes  for 
Pythagoras  a  free  man  of  the  cittie  of  Rome,  as  Epicharmus  the  conversa- 
the  Comicall  poet  an  auncient  writer  (and  sometimes  one  of  *^°?  p^J)^!^"^'^ 
Pythagoras  schollers)  sayeth  in  a  booke  he  wrote  and  dedi-  ^^ras  ^ 
cated   unto  Antenor.      The  other  proofe  is :    That  Numa 
having  had  foure  children,  called  one  of  them  Mamercus, 
after  Pythagoras   sonnes   name,    from  whom    they   saye   is 
discended,  the  house  of  the  ^Emylians,  which  is  the  noblest 
of  the  Patricians :   for  the  King  gave  him  the  surname  of 
iEmylius,  bicause  of  his  sweete  tongue  and  pleasaunt  voyce. 
Furthermore,  I  my  self  have  heard  saye  many  times  in  Rome, 
that  the  Romaines  having  receyved  an  oracle,  which  com- 
maunded  them  to  set  up  images  in  their  cittie,  to  the  wisest 
and  valliantest  man  that  ever  was  amongest  the  Grecians : 
caused  two  statues  of  brasse  to  be  set  up  in  their  market 
place,  the  one  of  Pythagoras,  and  the  other  of  Alcibiades. 
Howbeit  to    strive  about   this  matter  any  further,    seeing 
there  are  so  many  doubtes  :  me  thincketh  it  were  but  vaine. 
Moreover,  they  attribute  to  Numa,  the  first  erection  of  the  Numa  in- 
colledge  pontificall :    and   saye  he  him  selfe  was  the   first  stjtuteth 
Pontifex  that  ever  was.     But  touching  the  name  of  Pontifex,  ^i^hoppes. 
some  will  saye  they  were  so  called,  bicause  they  chiefly  were  Pontifices 
ordeined  and  appointed  for  the  service  of  the  almightie  :  for  ^^^y  so  called. 
Z  177 


NUMA 
POMPILIUS 


The  wodden 
bridge  at 
Rome. 


The  highe 
bishoppe. 


The  institu- 
tion of  the 
Vestall 
Nunnes. 

The  holy  and 
immortal  fire. 


LIVES    OF   THE   NOBLE 

this  word  Potens  in  the  Romaine  tongue,  betokeneth  mightie. 
Other  thineke  this  name  was  geven  to  them  by  their  founders, 
as  to  exempt  persones  out  of  the  worlde  :  who  enjoyned  them 
to  doe  all  the  service  and  sacrifices  to  the  goddes  they  could 
possibly,  and  yet  notwithstanding,  if  they  had  any  other 
lawfull  let  or  impediment  thereof,  they  were  not  straight 
condemned  for  omitting  the  same.  Howbeit  the  most  parte 
doe  bring  out  another  derivation  of  this  name,  wherein 
me  thinckes  there  is  litle  reason.  As  that  they  should  be 
called  Pontifices,  bicause  they  had  the  charge  of  maintenaunce 
of  the  bridge.  For  that  which  the  Grecians  call  Gephyran^ 
the  Latines  call  Pontem :  that  is,  '  a  bridge.'  And  to  saye 
truely,  the  charges  of  repairing  the  bridge,  belongeth  to 
the  bishoppes :  aswell  as  the  keeping  of  the  most  holy 
and  unchaungeable  ceremonies.  For  the  Romaines  thought 
it  not  only  a  thing  unlawfull,  but  tooke  it  for  a  most 
damnable  and  wicked  acte,  to  destroye  or  breake  the  bridge 
of  wodde,  which  was  only  joyned  together  (as  they  saye) 
with  pinnes  of  wodde,  and  without  any  iron  at  all,  by  the 
commaundement  of  an  olde  oracle.  But  the  stone  bridge 
was  buylt  long  time  after  the  raigne  of  Numa,  and  in  the 
time  of  the  raigne  of  his  nephewe  Martins.  Nowe  the  first 
and  chiefest  of  these  bishoppes,  which  they  call  the  great 
Pontifex,  hath  the  place,  authoritie,  and  dignitie  of  the 
highe  prieste  and  master,  of  their  pontificall  lawe :  who 
should  be  carefull,  not  only  about  all  publicke  sacrifices 
and  ceremonies,  but  also  about  suche  as  were  private,  and 
to  see  that  no  man  privately  should  breake  the  auncient 
ceremonies,  nor  bring  in  any  newe  thing  into  religion,  but 
rather  every  man  should  be  taught  by  him,  how,  and  after 
what  sorte  he  should  serve  and  honour  the  goddes.  He  also 
hath  the  keping  of  the  holy  virgines  which  they  call  Vestales. 
For  they  doe  geve  Numa  the  first  foundation  and  consecrat- 
ing of  them,  and  the  institution  also  of  keeping  the  im- 
mortall  fire  with  honour  and  reverence,  which  these  virgines 
have  the  charge  of.  Either  for  that  he  thought  it  meete  to 
commit  the  substaunce  of  fire  (being  pure  and  cleane)  unto 
the  custodie  of  cleane  and  uncorrupt  maydes  :  or  els  bicause 
he  thought  the  nature  of  fire  (which  is  barren,  and  bringeth 
178 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

forth  nothing)  was  fittest,  and  most  proper  unto  virgines.       NUMA 
For  in  Grece,  where  they  kept  continuall  fire  likewise  (as  POMPILIUS 
in  the  temple  of  Apollo  in  Delphes,  and  at  Athens)  the 
maydens  doe  not  keepe  the  same,  but  olde  women  which 
are  past  mariage.     And  if  this  fire  chaunce  to  faile,  as  they 
saye  in  Athens  the  holy  lampe  was  put  out  in  the  time  of 
the  tyrannic  of  Aristion  :  and  in  the  cittie  of  Dclphcs  it  was 
put  out,  when  the  temple  of  Apollo  was  burnt  by  the  Medes : 
and  at   Rome   also,  in  the   time   of  the  warrcs   that   the 
Romaines  had  against  king  Mithridates :  and  in  the  time 
of  the  civill  warres,  when  altar,  fire,  and  all  were  burnt  and 
consumed  together :  they  saye  that  it  must  not  be  lighted 
againe  with  other  common  fire,  but  must  be  made  a  newe, 
with  drawing  cleane  and  pure  flame  from  the  beames  of  the 
sunne,  and  that  they  doe  in  this  manner.     They  have  a  How  the  holy 
hollowe  vessell  made  of  a  pece  of  a  triangle,  having  a  corner  fire  is  drawen 
right,  and  two  sides  a  like :  so  that  from  all  partes  of  his  ^^^  the  pure 
compasse  and  circumference,  it  falleth  into  one  pointe.    Then  gunjjg 
they  set  this  vessell  right  against  the  beames  of  the  sunne, 
so  that  the  bright  sunne  beames  come  to  assemble  and  gather 
together  in  the  center  of  this  vessell,  where  they  doe  pearce 
the  ayer  so  strongely,  that  they  set  it  a  fire :  and  when  they 
put  to  it  any  drye  matter  or  substaunce,  the  fire  taketh  it 
straight,  bicause  the  beame  of  the  sunne,  by  meanes  of  the 
reverberation,  putteth  that  drye  matter  into  fire,  and  forceth 
it  to  flame.     Some  thincke  that  these  Vestall  virgines  keepe 
no  other  thing,  but  this  fire,  which  never  goeth  out.     Other 
saye,  there  are  other  holy  thinges  also,  which  no  bodie  maye 
lawfully  see  but  they  :  whereof  we  have  written  more  largely 
in  the  life  of  Camillus,  at  the  least  so  much  as  maye  be  learned  See  the  life 
and  tolde.    The  first  maydens  which  were  vowed  and  put  into  ^^  Camillus 
this  order  of  religion  by  Numa,  were  (as  they  saye)  Gegania,  Vestalf^     ^ 
and  Verenia :  and  after  them,  Canuleia  and  Tarpeia.     After-  Nunnes. 
wardes  king  Servius  increased  the  number  with  two  other,  and 
that  number  of  foure  continueth  untill  this  daye.    Their  rule 
and  order  set  downe  by  king  Numa  was  this  :  that  they  should  The  order 
vowe  chastitie  for  the  space  of  thirtie  yeres.    In  the  first  tenne  ^PP"^^/'^^  *^^ 
yeres  they  learne  what  they  have  to  doe :  the  next  tenne  j^u^^^^  ^    ^ 
yeres  following,  they  doe  that  which  they  have  learned  :  and 

179 


NUMA 
POMPILIUS 


The  Vestalls 
prerogatives. 


The  punish- 
ment of  the 
Vestall 
Nunnes. 


LIVES    OF   THE   NOBLE 

the  last  tenne  yeres,  they  teache  young  novices.  After  they 
have  passed  their  thirtie  yeres,  they  maye  lawfully  marie  if 
they  be  disposed,  and  take  them  to  another  manner  of  life, 
and  leave  their  religion.  But  as  it  is  reported,  there  have 
bene  very  fewe  of  them  which  have  taken  this  libertie,  and 
fewer  also  which  have  joyed  after  they  were  professed,  but 
rather  have  repented  them  selves,  and  lived  ever  after  a  very 
grievous  and  sorowfull  life.  This  did  so  fraye  the  other 
Vestalls,  that  they  were  better  contented  with  their  vowed 
chastitie  :  and  so  remained  virgines,  untill  they  were  olde,  or 
els  died.  He  gave  them  also  great  priviledges,  and  preroga- 
tives. As :  to  make  their  will  and  testament,  in  their 
fathers  life  time.  To  doe  all  things  without  any  gardian 
or  overseer,  as  women  which  have  three  children  at  a  birth. 
When  they  goe  abroade,  they  carie  maces  before  them  to 
honour  them.  And  if  by  chaunce  they  meete  any  offendour 
in  their  waye,  going  to  execution,  they  save  his  life  :  howbeit 
the  professed  Vestall  must  affirme  by  othe,  that  she  met  him 
unwares,  and  not  of  set  purpose.  If  any  man  presume 
under  their  chayer,  whereupon  they  are  caried  through  the 
cittie,  he  shall  die  for  it.  Also  when  they  them  selves  doe 
any  faulte,  they  are  corrected  by  the  great  byshoppe,  who 
somtimes  doth  whippe  them  naked  (according  to  the  nature 
and  qualitie  of  their  offence)  in  a  darcke  place,  and  imder  a 
curten.  But  she  that  hath  deflowred  her  virginity,  is  buried 
quicke  by  one  of  the  gates  of  the  cittie,  which  they  call 
Collina  gate :  where  within  the  cittie  there  is  a  mount  of 
earth  of  a  good  length,  and  with  the  Latines  is  sayed  to  be 
raised.  Under  this  forced  mount,  they  make  a  litle  hollowe 
vawte,  and  leave  a  hole  open,  whereby  one  maye  goe  downe : 
and  within  it  there  is  set  a  litle  bed,  a  burning  lampe,  and 
some  vitells  to  susteine  life  withall.  As  a  litle  bread,  a  litle 
water,  a  litle  milke,  and  a  litle  oyle,  and  that  for  honours 
sake :  to  the  ende  they  would  not  be  thought  to  famishe  a 
bodie  to  deathe,  which  had  bene  consecrated  by  the  most  holy 
and  devoute  ceremonies  of  the  worlde.  This  done,  they  take 
the  offender,  and  put  her  into  a  litter,  which  they  cover 
strongely,  and  close  it  up  with  thicke  leather  in  suche  sorte, 
that  no  bodie  canne  so  much  as  heare  her  voyce,  and  so  they 
180 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

carie  her  thus  shut  up  through  the  market  place.    Every  one       NUMA 
draweth  backe,  when  they  see  this  litter  a  farre  of,  and  doe  POMPILIUS 
geve  it  place  to  passe  by :  and  then  follow  it  mourningly, 
with   heavy  lookes,  and  speake  never   a  word.     They  doe 
nothing  in  the  citie  more  fearefuU  to  behold,  then  this  : 
neither   is   there   any  daye  wherein   the   people   are    more 
sorowful,  then  on  such  a  daye.     Then  after  she  is  come  to 
the  place  of  this  vawte,  the  sergeants  straight  unlose  these 
fast  bounde  coverings  :    and  the  chiefe  byshoppe  after  he 
hath  made  certen  secret  prayers  unto  the  godds,  and  lift  his 
handes  up  to  heaven,  taketh  out  of  the  litter,  the  condemned 
Vestall  muffled  up  close,  and  so  putteth  her  upon  the  ladder, 
which  conveyeth  her  downe  into  the  vawte.     That  done,  he 
withdraweth,  and  all  the  priestes  with  him  :  and  when  the 
seely  ofFendour  is  gone  downe,  they  straight  plucke  up  the 
ladder,  and  cast  aboundance  of  earthe  in  at  the  open  hole, 
so  that  they  fill  it  up  to  the  very  toppe  of  the  arche.     And 
this  is  the  punishment  of  the   Vestalls  which   defile  their 
virginitie.     They  thincke  also  it  was  Numa  that  buylt  the 
round  temple  of  the  goddesse  Vesta,  in  which  is  kept  the 
everlasting  fire  :  meaning  to  represent  not  the  forme  of  the 
earth,  which  they  saye  is  Vesta,  but  the  figure  of  the  whole 
world,  in  the  middest  whereof  (according  to  the  Pythagorians  The  temple  of 
opinion)  remaineth  the  proper  seate  and  abiding  place  of  Vesta  repre- 
fire,  which  they  call  Vesta,  and  name  it  the  unitie.     For  senteth  the 
they  are  of  opinion,  neither  that  the  earth  is  unmoveable,  ^^orj^p 
nor  yet  that  it  is  set  in  the  middest  of  the  world,  neither  ^y,         , 
that  the  heaven  goeth  about  it :  but  saye  to  the  contrarie,  ^re  abideth. 
that  the  earth  hanged  in  the  ayer  about  the  fire,  as  about 
the  center  thereof.    Neither  will  they  graunte,  that  the  earth 
is  one  of  the  first  and  chiefest  partes  of  the  world  :   as  Plato 
helde  opinion  in  that  age,  that  the  earthe  was  in  another 
place  then  in  the  very  middest,  and  that  the  center  of  the 
world,  as  the  most  honorablest  place,  did  apperteine  to  some 
other  of  more  worthy  substaunce  than  the  earthe.     Further- 
more, the  byshoppes  office  was  to  show  those  that  needed  to 
be  taught,  all  the  rites,  manners,  and  customes  of  buriall :  The  manner 
whom  Numa  taught  not  to  beleeve  that  there  was  any  cor-  of  buriall. 
ruption  or  dishonesty  in  burialles,  but   rather   it  was   to 

181 


NUMA 
POMPILIUS 


Libitina 
honored  at 
funeralls. 


The  time  of 
mourning. 


Salii,Feciales. 
Pluta.  Prohl. 
62.  Gell.  lib. 
16.  c.  4. 

Feciales 
called  Ireno- 
phylaces. 


Irenen : 
a  quarrell 
pacified  with 
reason,  with- 
out the  sword. 


LIVES   OF   THE    NOBLE 

worshippe  and  honour  the  godds  of  the  earthe,  with  usuall 
and  honorable  ceremonies,  as  those  which  after  their  death 
receyve  the  chiefest  service  of  us  that  they  canne.      But 
above  all  other  in  burialles,  they  did  specially  honour  the 
goddesse  called  Libitina,  that  is  sayed,  the  chiefe  governour 
and  preserver  of  the  rites  of  the  dead  :  or  be  it  Prosperina, 
or  Venus,  as  the  most  learned  men  among  the  Romaines  doe 
judge,  who  not  without  cause  doe  attribute  the  order  of  the 
beginning  and  ende  of  mans  life,  to  one  self  god,  and  power 
divine,      Numa  ordained  also,  how  long  time  every  bodie 
should  mourne  in  blackes.     And  for  a  childe   from  three 
yeres  to  tenne  yeres  of  age,  that  died :    he  ordeined  they 
should  mourne  no  more  monethes  then  it  had  lived  yeres, 
and  not  to  adde  a  daye  more.     For  he  commaunded,  that 
the  longest  time  of  mourning  should  be  but  ten  moneths 
onely,  and  so  long  time  at  the  least  he  willed  women  should 
remaine  widdowes,  after  the  decease  of  their  husbands  :  or  els 
she  that  would  marie  within  that  time,  was  bounde  by  his 
order  to  sacrifice  a  whole   bullocke.      Numa  also   erected 
many  other  orders  of  priestes :  of  two  sortes  whereof  I  will 
only  make  mention.     The  one  shalbe  the  order  of  the  Salii, 
and  the  other  of  the  Feciales  :  for  me  thinckes,  both  the  one 
and  the  other  doth  manifestly  showe  the  great  holines,  and 
singular  devotion  which  he  had  in  him.     The  Feciales  are 
properly  those,  which  the  Grecians  call  Irenophylaces,  as  who 
would  saye,  peacekeepers.       And   in   my  judgement,  they 
had  their  right  name  according  to  their  office,  bicause  they 
did  pacific  quarells  with  reason  by  waye  of  order,  and  did 
not  suffer  (as  much  as  in  them  laye)  that  any  matter  should 
be  tried  by  violence,  untill  they  were  past  all  hope  of  any 
peace.     For  the  Grecians  call  it  properly  Irenen,  when  both 
parties  agree,  and  decide  their  controversie  with  reason,  and 
not  with  sworde.     Even  so  those  which  the  Romaines  called 
the  Feciales,  went  many  times  in  persone  to  those  that  dyd 
the  Romaines  injurie,  and  sought  to  persuade  them  with 
good  reason,  to  keepe  promise  with  the  Romaines,  and  to 
offer  them  no  wrong.     But  if  they  would  not  yeld  to  reason, 
whom  they  sought  to  persuade  :  then  they  called  the  goddes 
to  the  witnes  thereof,  and  prayed  them,  that  if  they  dyd  not 
182 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

most  earnestly  incense  the  Romaines,  to  pursue  that  most  NUMA 
justely  apperteined  unto  their  right,  that  all  evills  and  POMPILIUS 
mischieves  of  the  warres  might  fall  upon  them  selves,  and  on 
their  countrie.  This  done,  they  dyd  threaten  open  warres 
against  such  enemies.  And  if  the  Feciales  would  not  consent 
to  open  warres,  and  dyd  happen  to  speake  against  them  :  it 
was  not  lawfull  in  that  case,  neither  for  private  persone,  nor 
for  the  King  him  selfe  to  make  any  warres.  But  like  a  just 
prince,  he  must  have  leave  by  their  sufferance  to  make  the 
warres.  Then  dyd  he  consider,  and  consult,  by  what  meanes 
he  might  best  procure,  and  prosecute  the  same.  Concerning 
this  matter,  they  judge  that  the  ill  happe  which  came  to  the 
Romaines,  when  the  cittie  of  Rome  was  taken  and  sacked  by 
the  Gaules,  chaunced  justely  for  breaking  of  this  holy  institu- 
tion. For  at  that  time,  the  barbarous  people  besieged  the 
cittie  of  the  Clusinians :  and  Fabius  Ambustus  was  sent 
ambassadour  unto  them,  to  see  if  he  could  make  peace 
betweene  them.  The  barbarous  people  gave  him  an  ill 
aunswer :  whereupon  Fabius  thincking  his  embasie  had  bene 
ended,  and  being  somwhat  whotte,  and  rashe  in  defence  of 
the  Clusinians,  gave  defiaunce  to  the  valliantest  Gaule  there, 
to  fight  with  him  man  to  man.  Fortune  favored  him  in  this 
chalenge :  for  he  slew  the  Gaule,  and  stripped  him  in  the 
fielde.  The  Gaules  seeing  their  man  slayne,  sent  immediately 
an  heraulde  to  Rome,  to  accuse  Fabius,  howe  against  all 
right  and  reason,  he  beganne  warres  with  them,  without  any 
open  proclamation  made  before.  The  Feciales  being  then 
consulted  with  thereabout,  did  declare,  he  ought  to  be 
delivered  into  the  handes  of  the  Gaules,  as  one  that  had 
broken  the  lawe  of  armes,  and  had  deserved  it :  but  he  made 
friends  to  the  people  which  favored  him  very  much,  and  by 
their  meanes  escaped  liis  deliverie,  and  punishment.  Never- 
thles,  the  Gaules  within  shorte  time  after,  came  before  Rome  Rome  taken 
with  all  their  power :  which  they  tooke,  sacked,  and  burnt  ^y  *^  Gaules. 
every  whit,  saving  the  Capitoll,  as  we  have  written  more  ^^^  ^"^^  "** 
amplie  in  the  life  of  Carmillus.  Now  concerning  the  Priestes 
that  were  called  Salii,  they  saye  he  dyd  institute  them  upon  The  institu- 
this  occasion.  In  the  eight  yere  of  his  reigne,  there  came  a  tion  of  the 
pestilent  disease  through  all  Italic,  and  at  the  length  it  crept  ^      ' 

183 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

NUMA  also  into  Rome.  Whereat  every  man  being  greatly  aiFrayed, 
POMPILIUS  and  discoraged,  they  saye  there  fell  from  heaven  a  target  of 
A  target  from  copper,  which  lighted  betweene  the  handes  of  Numa.  They 
heaven.  ^q[\  hereof  a  wonderfull  tale,  which  the  King  him  selfe  affirmed 

he  heard,  of  the  Nymphe  Egeria,  and  the  Muses,  To  wit, 
that  this  target  was  sent  from  heaven,  for  the  health  and 
preservation  of  the  cittie :  and  therefore  he  should  keepe  it 
carefully,  and  cause  eleven  other  to  be  cast  and  made,  all 
like  vmto  the  same  in  facion  and  greatnes,  to  the  ende,  that 
if  any  would  enterprise  to  steale  it,  he  should  not  tell 
which  of  them  to  take  for  the  right  target.  Moreover  he 
said,  he  was  commaunded  to  consecrate  the  place  to  the 
Muses  (in  the  which  he  dyd  oftentimes  companie  with  them) 
and  also  the  fieldes  which  were  neere  thereabouts  :  and  like- 
wise to  geve  the  fountaine  that  sprange  in  that  place,  unto 
the  Vestalls  professed,  that  every  daye  they  might  drawe 
water  at  that  well,  to  washe  the  sanctuarie  of  their  temple. 
The  successe  hereof  proved  his  words  true,  for  the  sicknes 
ceased  incontinently.  So  he  assembled  all  the  chief  craftes 
men  then  in  Rome,  to  prove  which  of  them  would  take  upon 
him  to  make  one  like  unto  that.  Every  man  despayred  to 
performe  it.  Howbeit  one  called  Veturius  Mamurius  (the 
excellentest  workeman  that  was  in  those  dayes)  dyd  make 
them  all  so  sute  like,  that  Numa  him  selfe  dyd  not  knowe 
the  first  target,  when  they  were  all  layed  together.  So  he 
Whereofthey  ordeined  these  priests  Salii,  to  have  the  custodie  of  these 
were  called  targets,  to  see  them  safe  kept.  They  were  called  Salii,  not 
*  "'  after  the  name  of  a  Salian  borne  in  Samothracia,  or  in  Man- 

tinea,  as  some  have  untruely  alleaged,  who  first  invented  the 
manner  of  dauncing  all  armed :  but  they  were  so  called,  of 
their  facion  and  manner  of  dauncing,  and  leaping.  For  in 
the  moneth  of  Marche,  they  goe  skipping  and  leaping  up 
and  downe  the  cittie,  with  those  targetes  on  their  armes, 
apparelled  in  red  cassockes  without  sieves,  and  girded  about 
with  broade  leather  sworde  girdells,  studded  Math  copper, 
having  helmets  of  copper  on  their  heads,  and  striking  upon 
their  targets  with  shorte  daggers,  which  they  carie  in  their 
hands.  Moreover,  all  their  dauncing  consisteth  in  moving 
of  their  feete :  for  they  handle  them  finely,  making  tomes 
184 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

above  ground  and  beneath,  with  a  sodaine  measure,  and  a       NUMA 

marvelous  force  of  agilitie.     They  call  these  targets  Ancyl'm^  POMPILIUS 

bicause  of  their  facion,  which  is  not  altogether  compasse  :  Ancylia, 

for  they  are  not  all  round  as  other  common  targets  be,  but  whereof  so 

they  are  cut  with  circles  wreathed  about,  both  the  endes  ^^  ^  * 

bowing  in  many  foldes,  and    one   so   neere   another,  that 

altogether  they  come  to  a  certaine  wreathed  forme,  which 

the  Grecians  call  Ancylon.     Or  els  they  are  so  called,  bicause 

A  neon  signifieth  an  elbow,  upon  which  they  carie  them.     All 

these  derivations  are  written  in  the  historic  of  luba,  who  in 

any  case  will  have  this  word  Aiicylia  to  be  drawen  out  of  the 

Greeke  tongue.     And  it  maye  be  also  they  were  so  called, 

bicause  the  first  came  from  above,  which  the  Grecians  call 

Anecathen :    or  els   for   healing   the  sicke,  which   is  called 

Acesis.     Or  els  for  ceasing  of  the  drines,  which  in  Greke  is 

called,  Anchmon  Lysis.      Or  for  the  ending  of  all  diseases 

and  evills,  for  which  cause  the  Athenians  call  Castor  and 

Pollux,  Anacas :  if  they  lust  to  geve  this  word  his  derivation 

from  the  Greeke  tongue.     Now  the  reward  which  Mamurius 

the  goldsmithe  had  for  the  making  of  these  targets  was,  that 

the  Salij  unto  this  daye  doe  make  mention  of  him,  in  their 

songe,  which  they  singe  going  through  the  cittie,  and  daunc- 

ing  of  their  daunce  all  armed.     Howbeit  some  thincke  they 

saye  not  Veturius  Mamurius,  but  veterem  memoriam,  'auncient 

'  memorie.''     But  Numa  after  he  had  ordeined  and  instituted 

these  orders  of  priests,  built  his  palace  neere  unto  the  temple 

of  Vesta,  which  holdeth  his  name  Regia  at  this  daye,  to  saye,  Regia,  the 

the  Kings  palace.     In  which  he  remained  most  part  of  his  Kings  palace. 

life,  studying  either  to  sacrifice  to  the  goddes,  or  to  teache 

the  Priestes  what  they  should  doe,  or  howe  with  them  he 

should  best  contemplate  all  heavenly  things.     It  is  true  that  The  manner 

he  had  another  house  on  the  hill,  which  they  call  at  this  «*  the 

daye,  QuirinalL  the  place  whereof  is  vet  to  be  scene.     But  l^oi^^^iies 

•    -^  11    ii  -n    '^  •  "^j  •  ^4.1      worshipping 

m  ail  these  sacrifices,   ceremonies,  and   processions  oi   tne  of  the  goddes. 

Priestes,  there  were  allwayes  husshers  that  went  before,  crying 
to  the  people,  Kepe  silence,  and  tend  upon  divine  service.  The  Pythago- 
For  they  saye  the  Pythagorians  thought  it  good,  that  men  Jj^^^J.^j^^P'"^^^ 
should  not  worshippe  the  godds,  nor  make  prayers  to  them  pj-aygj. 
in  passing  by,  or  doing  any  other  thing :  but  they  thought 
2  A  185 


NUMA 
POMPILIUS 


Hoc  age,  a 
watcheword 
to  tend  divine 
service. 

The  similitude 
of  Numa  and 
Pythagoras 
precepts. 


LIVES    OF    THE   NOBLE 

it  mete,  that  men  should  of  purpose  goe  out  of  their  houses, 
to  serve  and  praye  unto  them.  Even  so  king  Numa  thought 
it  not  meete,  that  his  subjects  should  come  to  see,  and  heare 
divine  service  negligently,  as  it  were  for  a  facion,  and  only 
to  be  ryd  of  it,  as  heeding  an  other  thing :  but  he  would 
have  them  set  a  side  all  other  busines,  and  employ  their 
thoughts  and  harts  only  upon  the  principall  service  of 
religion,  and  devotion  towards  the  godds.  So  that  during 
service  time,  he  would  not  have  heard  any  noise,  any  knock- 
ing, bounsing,  or  any  clapping,  as  they  commonly  heare  in 
all  artificers  shoppes  of  occupation,  whereof  at  this  daye  yet 
they  see  some  signes,  and  tokens,  remaining  in  their  sacrifices 
at  Rome.  For  all  the  time  the  Augure  beholdeth  the  flying 
of  the  birds,  or  that  he  is  doing  any  sacrifice,  the  vergers  crie 
alowde :  Hoc  age^  which  meaneth,  '  tend  this.*"  And  it  is  a 
warning  to  those  that  are  present,  to  call  their  wittes  home, 
and  to  thincke  on  that  which  is  in  hand.  Also  there  are 
many  of  his  orders  like  the  preceptes  of  the  Pythagorians. 
For  as  they  dyd  warne  men,  not  to  sit  upon  a  litle  busshell, 
not  to  cut  fire  with  a  sword,  not  to  looke  behinde  them  when 
they  goe  abroade :  to  sacrifice  to  the  celestiall  godds  in  an 
odde  number,  and  to  the  goddes  of  the  earth  in  an  even 
number,  of  which  precepts,  they  would  not  have  the  common 
people  to  have  any  knowledge  or  understanding.  Even  so 
there  are  many  institutions  of  Numa,  the  reasons  whereof 
are  hidden  and  kept  secret :  as  not  to  offer  wine  to  the  godds 
of  the  vine  never  cut,  and  not  to  sacrifice  unto  them  without 
meale  :  and  to  turne  a  turne  about  when  they  doe  reverence 
to  the  godds,  and  to  sit  down  after  they  have  worshipped 
them.  And  as  touching  the  two  first  ordinances,  it  seemeth 
that  by  them  he  did  recommend  clemency,  and  humanity, 
as  being  a  parte  of  the  devotion  towards  the  godds.  But 
as  for  the  turning  which  he  willeth  them  to  make,  that 
worshippe  the  goddes  :  they  saye  it  representeth  the  turning 
which  the  element  maketh  by  his  moving.  But  me  thincketh 
it  should  rather  come  of  this :  for  that  the  temples  being 
set  to  the  east,  he  that  worshippeth  entring  into  the 
temple,  sheweth  his  backe  to  the  West,  and  for  this  cause 
turneth  towardes  that  parte,  and  afterwards  returneth  againe 
186 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

towards  god :  doing  the  whole  turne,  and  ending  the  con-       NUMA 
summation  of  his  prayer,  by  this  double  adoration  which  he  POMPILIUS 
maketh  before  and  behinde.     Onles  peradventure  that   he 
ment  secretly  to  signifie,  and  geve  them  to  understande  by 
this  turning  and  chaunging  of  their  looke,  that  which  the 
Egyptians  figured  by  their  wheels  :  in  showing  therby,  that 
these  worldly  things  were  never  constant  and  in  one  state. 
And    therfore,    that    we    should    take    it   thankfully,    and 
paciently  beare  it,  in  what  sorte  soever  it  pleased  god  to 
chaunge  or  alter  our  life.     And  where  he  commaunded  that 
they  should  sit  after  they  liad  worshipped  god :  they  sayed 
it  was  a  token  of  a  good  hope  unto  them  that  prayed,  that 
their  prayers  should  be  exalted,  and  that  their  goods  should 
remaine  safe,  and  sticke  by  them.      Other  saye,  that  this 
ease  and  sitting,  is  a  separating  them  from  doing :  and  ther- 
fore he  would  they  should  sit  in  the  temples  of  the  godds,  to 
sliew  they  had  done  that  which  they  had  in  hand  before,  to 
the  end  to  take  of  the  godds  the  beginning  of  another.    And 
it  maye  well  be  also,  that  it  was  referred  to  the  thing  we 
spake  of  a  litle  before.     That  Numa  would  accustome  his 
people,  not  to  serve  the  godds,  nor  to  speake  to  them  at  all, 
as  they  passed  by,  or  did  any  other  thing,  or  were  in  haste : 
but  would  have  them  praye  unto  the  godds  when  they  had 
time  and  leysure,  and  all  other  busines  at  that  time  set  a 
parte.     By  this  good  instruction  and  training   them  unto 
religion,  the  cittie  of  Rome  by  litle  and  litle  came  to  be  so 
tractable,  and  had  the  great  power  of  king  Numa  in  such 
admiration  :  that  they  tooke  all  to  be  as  true  as  the  gospell  By  what 
that  he  spake,  though  it  had  no  more  likelyhood  of  trothe,  n'^ans  Numa 
then  tales  devised  of  pleasure.     Furthermore,  they  thought  Romajngs 
nothing  incredible,  or  unpossible  to  him,  if  he  would  have  it.  quiet  and 
And  for  proofe  hereof,  there  goeth  a  tale  of  him,  that  he  gentle, 
having  bidden  a  great  company  of  the  cittizens  of  Rome  to 
come  and  suppe  with  him,  caused  them  to  be  served  with 
plaine  grosse  meate,  and  in  very  poore  and  homely  vessell. 
And  when  they  were  set,  and  beganne  to  fall  to  their  meate, 
he  cast  out  words  sodainely  unto  them,  how  the  goddesse  with 
whom  he  accompanied,  was  come  to  see  him  even  at  that  The  wonders 
instant,  and  that  sodainely  the  hall  was  richely  furnished,  of  Numa. 

187 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

NUMA  and  the  tables  covered  with  all  sortes  of  excellent  fine  and 
POMPILIUS  delicate  meates.  Hovvbeit  this  farre  passed  all  the  vanity 
Numaes  of  lying,  which  is  found  written  of  him,  about  his  speaking 

speaking  with  with  lupiter.     The  hill  Aventine  was  not  at  that  time  in- 
lupiter.  habited,  nor  inclosed  within  the  walles  of  Rome,  but  was 

full  of  springs  and  shadowed    groves,  whether   commonly 
Picus.  repaired  to  solace  them  selves,  the  two  godds,  Picus  and 

Faunus,  Faunus,  which  otherwise  might  be  thought  two  Satyres,  or 

of  the  race  of  the  Titanians :  saving  it  is  sayed,  that  they 
went  through  all  Italic,  doing  the  like  miracles  and  wonders 
in  phisycke,  charmes  and  arte  magike,  wliich  they  reporte  of 
those  the  Grecians  call  Idaees  Dactyles.  There  they  saye 
that  Numa  tooke  them  both,  having  put  into  the  spring 
both  wine  and  honnie,  where  they  used  to  drinke.  AVhen 
they  saw  that  they  were  taken,  they  transformed  them  selves 
into  divers  forms,  disguising  and  disfiguring  their  naturall 
shape,  into  many  terrible  and  feareful  sights  to  behold. 
Nevertheles  in  the  end,  perceiving  they  were  so  fast,  as  to 
escape  there  was  no  reckoning :  they  revealed  unto  him  many 
The  purifying  things  to  come,  and  taught  him  the  purifying  against  light- 
of  thunder.  ning  and  thunder,  which  they  make  yet  at  this  daye  with 
onions,  heare,  and  pilchers.  Other  saye,  he  was  not  taught 
that  by  them,  but  that  they  fetched  lupiter  out  of  heaven, 
with  their  conj  uring  and  magicke :  whereat  lupiter  being 
offended,  aunswered  in  choller,  that  he  should  make  it  with 
heads.  But  Numa  added  straight.  Of  onions :  lupiter  re- 
plied, Of  men.  Then  Numa  asked  him  againe,  to  take  a 
litle  away  the  cruelty  of  the  commaundement :  What  heares  .'' 
lupiter  aunswered,  Quicke  hears.  And  Numa  put  to  pilchers 
also.  And  it  is  reported  that  this  was  the  goddesse  Egeria, 
that  taught  Numa  this  subtiltie.  This  done,  lupiter  returned 
appeased :  by  reason  whereof  the  place  was  called  Ilicium. 
Ilicium,  the  For  Ileos  in  the  Greeke  tongue  signifieth  appeased,  and 
name  of  the  favorable  :  and  this  purifying  was  afterwards  made  in  that 
place.  sorte.     These  tales  not  onely  vayne,  but  full  of  mockerie 

also,  doe  show  us  yet  plainely  the  zeale  and  devotion  men 
had  in  those  times  towards  the  godds :  unto  which  Numa 
through  custome  had  wonne  them.  And  as  for  Numa  him 
self,  they  saye  that  he  so  firmely  put  all  his  hope  and  con- 
188 


k 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

fidence  in  the  helpe  of  the  godds :  that  one  daye  when  he       NUMA 
was  told  his  enemies  were  in  armes  against  him,  he  did  but  POMPILIUS 
laugh  at  it,  and  aunswered  :   And  I  doe  sacrifice.     It  is  he 
(as  some  saye)  that  first  built  a  temple  to  Faith  and  Terme  :  Numa  buyld- 
and  which  made  the  Romaines  understand,  that  the  most  ed  temples  to 
holy  and  greatest  othe  they  could  make,  was  to  sweare  by  Faythe  and 
their  faith,  which  they  kepe  yet  at  this  daye.     But  Terme, 
which  signifieth  bounds,  is  the  god  of  confines,  or  borders  : 
unto  whom  they  doe  sacrifice,  both  publickly  and  privately, 
upon  the  limites  of  inheritaunces,  and  now  they  sacrifice  unto 
him  live  beasts.    Howbeit  in  old  time  they  did  sacrifice  unto 
him   without  any  blonde,  through  the   wise  institution  of 
Numa  :  who  declared  and  preached  unto  them,  that  this  god 
of  bounds  was  syncere,  and  upright,  witliout  bloud  or  murther, 
as  he  that  is  a  witnes  of  justice,  and  a  keper  of  peace.     It 
was  he,  which  in  my  opinion,  did  first  limit  out  the  bounds  Numa  made 
of  the  territorie  of  Rome  :  which  Romulus  would  never  doe,  the  bouudes 
for  feare  least  in  bounding  out  his  owne,  he  should  confesse  ^orieofRome 
that  which  he  occupied  of  other  mens.     For  bounding  and 
mearing,  to  him  that  will  keepe  it  justely :  is  a  bond  that 
brideleth  power  and  desire.     But  to  him  that  forceth  not  to 
kepe  it :  it  is  a  proofe  to  shew  his  injustice.    To  saye  truely, 
the  territories  of  Rome  had  no  great  bounds  at  the  first  be- 
ginning, and  Romulus  had  got  by  conquest  the  greatest  parte 
of  it,  and  Numa  did  wholy  devide  it  unto  the  nedie  inhabitans 
to  releve  them,  and  to  bring  them  out  of  poverty  :  (which 
carieth  men  hedlong  into  mischief,  and  discourageth  them  to 
labour)  to  the  end  that  plowing  up  the  said  lande,  they  should  Numa 
also  plowe  up  the  weedes  of  their  own  barrennes,  to  become  advaunceth 
civill  and  gentle.     For  there  is  no  exercise  nor  occupation  in  t"^''*se. 
tlie  world,  which  so  sodainely  bringeth  a  man,  to  love  and 
desire  quietnes,  as  doth  husbandrie  and  tillage :  and  yet  to 
defend  a  mans  own,  there  is  in  it  corage  and  hardines  to  fight. 
But  greedy  desire,  violently  to  take  from  others,  and  unjustely 
to  occupie  that  is  none  of  theirs,  is  never  in  right  husband- 
men.    And  therfore  Numa  having  brought  in   husbandrie 
amongest  his  subjects,  as  a  medecine  and  meane  to  make 
them  love  quietnes  :  was  desirous  to  inure  them  to  this  trade 
of  life,  the  rather  to  make  them  humble  and  gentle  of  con- 

189 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 


NUMA 
POMPILIUS 


Numadevided 
his  people 
into  sundry 
occupations. 


Numa  tooke 
away  the 
factions  of 
Romulus  and 
Tatius. 


dition,  then  to  increase  them  in  riches.  He  devided  all  the 
territorie  of  Rome  into  certen  parts  which  he  called  Pagos : 
as  much  to  saye,  as  villages.  And  in  every  one  of  them 
he  ordeined  controllers  and  visiters,  which  should  survey  all 
about :  and  he  him  self  somtimes  went  abroade  in  persone, 
conjecturing  by  their  labour  the  manners  and  nature  of 
every  man.  Such  as  he  found  diligent,  he  advaunced  them 
unto  honour,  and  gave  them  countenaunce  and  authoritie : 
other  which  he  sawe  slowthfull  and  negligent,  by  rebuking 
and  reproving  of  them,  he  made  them  amend.  But  amongest 
all  his  ordinaunces  which  he  made,  one  above  all  the  rest 
caried  the  praise :  and  that  was,  that  he  devided  his  people 
into  sundrie  occupations.  For  the  cittie  of  Rome  seemed 
vet  to  be  made  of  two  nations,  as  we  have  sayed  before :  and 
to  speake  more  properly,  it  was  made  of  two  tribes.  So  that 
it  could  not,  or  would  not  for  any  thing  be  made  one  :  being 
altogether  impossible  to  take  away  all  factions,  and  to  make 
there  should  be  no  quarrells  nor  contentions  betwene  both 
parts.  Wherefore  he  considered,  that  when  one  will  mingle 
two  bodies  or  simples  together,  which  for  their  hardnes  and 
contrarie  natures  cannot  well  suffer  mixture :  then  he  breaks 
and  beates  them  together,  as  small  as  may  be.  For,  so 
being  brought  into  a  smaller  and  lesser  powder,  they  would 
incorporate  and  agree  the  better.  Even  so  he  thought  it 
was  best  to  devide  the  people  also  into  many  small  partes  : 
by  meanes  whereof  they  should  be  put  into  many  parties, 
which  would  more  easely  take  away  the  first  and  the  greatest 
parte,  when  it  should  be  devided  and  separated  thus  into 
sundrie  sorts.  And  this  division  he  made  by  arts  and  occu- 
pations :  as  minstrells,  goldsmiths,  carpinters,  diers,  shoe- 
makers, tawers,  tanners,  bell  founders,  and  pot  makers,  and 
so  forth  through  other  craftes  and  occupations.  So  that  he 
brought  every  one  of  these  into  one  bodie,  and  companie  by 
it  self:  and  ordeined  unto  every  particular  mysterie  or  crafte, 
their  feasts,  assemblies,  and  services,  which  they  should  make 
unto  the  godds,  according  to  the  dignitie  and  worthines  of 
every  occupation.  And  by  this  meanes,  he  first  tooke  away 
all  faction  :  that  neither  side  sayed,  nor  thought  any  more, 
those  are  Sabynes,  these  are  Romaines,  these  are  of  Tatius, 
190 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

these  are  of  Romulus.     Insomuch  as  this  division  was  an  in-       NUMA 
corporating,  and  an  uniting  of  the  whole  together.     Among  POMPILIUS 
other  his  ordinaunces,  they  did  much  commend  his  reforming 
of  the  law,  that  gave   libertie   unto   fathers  to  sell  their 
children.    For  he  did  except  children  already  maried,  so  they 
were  maried  with  their  fathers  consent  and  goodwill :  judg- 
ing it  to  be  to  cruell  and  over  hard  a  thing,  that  a  woman 
who  thought  she  had  maried  a  free  man,  should  finde  her 
self  to  be  tlie  wife  of  a  bond  man.     He  beganne  also  to  The  ordi- 
mende  a  litle  the  calender,  not  so  exactly  as  he  should  have  naunce  of 
done,  nor  yet  altogether  ignorantly.     For  during  the  raigne  themoneths 
of  Romulus,  they  used  the  moneths  confusedly,  without  any  institution. 
order  or  reason,  making  some  of  them  twenty  dayes  and 
lesse,  and  others  five  and  thirtie  dayes  and  more,  without 
knowing  the  difference  betwene  the  course  of  the  sunne  and  the 
moone  :  and  only  they  observed  this  rule,  that  there  was  three 
hundred  and  three  score  dayes  in  the  yere.     But  Numa  con- 
sidering the  inequality  stoode  upon  eleven  dayes,  for  that  the  Macrob.  i. 
12  revolutions  of  the  moone  are  ronne  in  300  fiftie  and  foure  S^ty^- 13- 
dayes,  and  the  revolution  of  the  sunne,  in  365  dayes,  he  doubled 
the  11  dayes,  wherof  he  made  a  moneth  :  which  he  placed 
from  2  yeres  to  2  yeres,  after  the  moneth  of  February,  and 
the  Romaines  called  this  moneth  put  betweene,  Mercidinum, 
which  had  22  dayes.     And  this  is  the  correction  that  Numa 
made,  which  since  hath  had  a  farre  better  amendment.     He 
did  also  chaunge  the  order  of  the  moneths.     For  Marche 
which  before  was  the  first,  he  made  it  now  the  third :  and 
lanuary  the   first,  which    under  Romulus  was  the   11  and 
February  the  12  and  last.     Yet  many  are  of  opinion,  that 
Numa  added   these  two,  lanuary  and  February.     For  the 
Romaines  at  the  beginning  had  but  tenne  moneths  in  the 
yere :    as  some  of  the  barbarous    people   make   but  three 
moneths  for  their  yere.     And  the  Arcadians  amongest  the 
Grecians    have   but   foure    moneths   for   their   yere.      The  The  yere 
Acarnanians  have  sixe  to  the   yere.       And  the  Egyptians  diversely 
had  first  but   one  moneth  to   their  yere :    and  afterwards  '^^^^  ^ 
they  made  foure  moneths  for  their  yere.     And  this  is  the 
cause  why  they  seeme  (albeit  they  inhabite  in  a  new  countrie) 
to  be  nevertheles  the  auncientest  people  of  the  world :  for 

191 


LIVES   OF   THE    NOBLE 


NUMA 
POMPILIUS 


*Peradven- 
ture  ye  must 
read  in  the 
Greke  (otto 
rfjs  rjpas) 
which  is  to 
saye,  of  the 
name  of  luno. 


that  in  their  chronicles  they  reckon  up  such  infinite  number 
of  yeres,  as  those  which  counte  the  moneths  for  the  yeres. 
And  to  prove  this  true,  that  the  Romaines  at  the  beginning 
had  but  tenne  moneths  in  the  yere,  and  not  twelve :  it  is 
easely  to  be  judged  by  the  name  of  the  last,  which  they  call 
at  this  daye  December.  And  that  the  moneth  of  Marche 
was  also  the  first,  maye  be  conjectured  by  this  :  for  the  fift 
moneth  after  that,  is  yet  called  Quintilis :  the  6  Sextilis^  and 
so  the  other  in  order  following  the  numbers.  For  if  January 
and  February  had  then  bene  the  first,  of  necessitie  the 
moneth  of  luly,  which  they  call  Quintilis,  must  have  bene 
named  September  :  considering  also  that  it  is  very  likely, 
that  the  moneth  which  Romulus  had  dedicated  unto  Mars, 
was  also  by  him  ordeined  to  be  the  first.  The  second  was 
Aprill :  so  called  of  the  name  Aphrodite,  that  is  to  saye 
Venus,  unto  whom  they  make  open  sacrifice  in  this  moneth. 
And  on  the  first  daye  of  the  same,  women  doe  washe  them 
selves,  having  a  garland  of  myrtle  upon  their  heades,  How- 
beit  some  other  saye,  that  it  was  not  called  after  the  name 
of  Aphrodite,  but  it  was  only  called  Aprilis,  bicause  then  is 
the  chiefest  force  and  strength  of  the  spring,  at  which  season 
the  earth  doth  open,  and  the  seedes  of  plants  and  erbes 
beginne  to  bud  and  showe  forth,  which  the  word  it  selfe 
doth  signifie.  The  moneth  following  next  after  that,  is 
called  Maye :  after  the  name  of  Maia,  the  mother  of 
Mercuric,  unto  whom  the  moneth  is  consecrated.*  The 
moneth  of  lune  is  so  called  also,  bicause  of  the  quality  of 
that  season,  which  is  as  the  youthe  of  the  yere.  Although 
some  will  saye,  that  the  moneth  of  Maye  was  named  of  this 
word  Mqjores,  which  signifieth  as  much  as  the  elders :  and 
the  moneth  of  lune,  of  Imiiores,  which  signifies  the  younger 
men.  All  the  other  following,  were  named  in  old  time  by 
the  numbers  according  to  their  order,  Quintilis,  Sextilis, 
September,  October,  November,  and  December.  But  Quin- 
tilis, was  afterward  called  lulius,  of  the  name  of  lulius 
Caesar,  who  slew  Pompeius.  And  Sextilis  was  named 
Augustus,  Octavius  Caesars  successour  in  the  empire,  who 
was  also  surnamed  Augustus.  It  is  true  also  that  Domitian 
would  they  should  call  the  two  moneths  following  (which 
192 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

are  September  and  October)  the  one  Germanicus,  and  the       NUMA 
other  Domitianus.     But  that  helde  not  longe  :  for  so  soone  PO.MPILIUS 
as  Domitian  was  killed,  the  moneths  recovered  their  auncient 
names  againe.     The  two  last  moneths  only,  have  ever  con- 
tinued their  names,  without  chaunging  or  altering.      But 
of  the  two  which  Numa  added,  or  at  the  least  translated  : 
the  raoneth  of  February  doth  signifie  as  much  as  purging, 
or  at  the  least  the  derivation  of  the  word  sowndeth  neere  it. 
In  this  moneth,  they  doe  sacrifice  of  plantes,*  and  doe  cele-  *Some  olde 
brate  the  feast  of  the  Lupercales,  in  which  there  are  many  Grecian 
things  agreable,  and  like  to  the  sacrifices  made  for  purifica-  ^.?f^^\ ^^^'^  '" 
tion.     And  the  first  which  is  January,  was  called  after  the  a^^qI^i^  ^ 
name  of  lanus.     Wherefore  me  thinckes  that  Numa  tooke  much  to  save, 
away  the  moneth  of  Marche  from  the  first  place,  and  gave  as  for  the 
it  unto  January :   bicause  he  would  have   peace  preferred  tleade. 
before  warre,  and  civill  things  before  marshall.     For  this 
lanus  (were  he  King,  or  demigod)  in  the  former  age  was 
counted  very  civill  and  polliticke.     For  he  chaunged  the  life 
of  men,  which  before  his  time  was  rude,  cruell,  and  wild: 
and  brought  it  to  be  honest,  gentle,  and  civill.     For  this  Why  lanus  is 
cause  they  doe  painte  his  image  at  this  daye  with  two  faces,  painted  with 
the  one  before,  and  the  other  behinde,  for  thus  chaunging  ^^**  ^^^^' 
the  lives  of  men.     And  there  is  in  Rome  a  temple  dedicated 
unto  him,  which  hath  two  doores,  that  be  called  the  doores 
of  warre :    for   the   custome   is   to    open    them,  when    the 
Romaines  have  any  warres  in  any  place,  and  to  shut  them  At  what  time 
when  they  be  at  peace.     To  have  them  shut,  it  was  a  rare  the  temple 
thinge  to  see,  and  happened  very  seldome  :  by  reason  of  the  ^j^^^jj^  Yiome 
greatnes  of  their  empire,  which  of  all  sides  was  environned  ^.ju.  lib.  i. 
with  barbarous  nations,  whom  they  were  compelled  to  keepe 
imder  with  force  of  armes.     Notwithstanding  it  was  once 
shut   up   in   the    time  of   Augustus,   after   he   had   slaine 
Antonie :   and  once  before  also  in  the  yere  when  Marcus 
Attilius  and  Titus  Manlius  were  Consuls.     But  that  con- 
tinued not  long,  for  it  was  opened  again  incontinently,  by 
reason  of  warres  that  came  upon  them  sone  after.     Howbeit  The  Romains 
during  the  raigne  of  Numa,  it  was  never  one  day  opened,  had  no  warres 
but  remained  shut  continually  by  the  space  of  three  and  ^^^^^^  '' 
forty  yeres   together.      For  all   occasions   of  warres,  were 
2B  193 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

NUMA  then  utterly  dead  and  forgotten :  bicause  at  Rome  the 
POMPILIUS  people  were  not  only  through  thexample  of  justice,  clemen- 
cie,  and  the  goodnes  of  the  King  brought  to  be  quiet,  and 
to  love  peace  :  but  in  the  citties  thereabouts,  there  beganne 
a  marvelous  chaunge  of  manners  and  alteration  of  life,  as  if 
some  gentle  ayer  had  breathed  on  them,  by  some  gratious 
and  healthfull  wind,  blowen  from  Rome  to  refresh  them. 
And  thereby  bred  in  mens  mindes  such  a  harty  desire  to  live 
in  peace,  to  till  the  ground,  to  bring  up  their  children,  and 
to  serve  the  goddes  truely  :  that  almost  through  all  Italie, 
there  Avas  nothing  but  feastes,  playes,  sacrifices,  and  bankets. 
The  people  did  traffike  and  frequent  together,  without  feare 
or  daunger,  and  visited  one  another,  making  great  cheere  : 
as  if  out  of  the  springing  fountaine  of  Numaes  wisedom 
many  pretie  brookes  and  streames  of  good  and  honest  life 
had  ronne  over  all  Italie,  and  had  watered  it :  and  that  the 
mildnes  of  his  wisdom  had  from  hand  to  hand  been  dis- 
parsed  through  the  whole  world.  Insomuch,  as  the  over 
excessive  speaches  the  Poets  accustomably  doe  use,  were  not 
sufficient  enough  to  expresse  the  peaceable  raigne  of  that 
time. 

Tliere  :  spiders  weave,  their  cobwebbes  daye  and  night 
in  harnesses,  which  wont  to  serve  for  warre  : 
there  :  cancred  rust  doth  fret,  the  Steele  full  bright 
of  trenchant  blades,  well  whet  in  many  a  larre. 

There  :  mighty  speares,  for  lacke  of  use  are  eaten, 
with  rotten  wormes  :  and  in  that  countrie  there, 
the  braying  trompe  dotlie  never  seeme  to  threaten, 
their  quiet  eares,  with  blasts  of  bloudy  feare. 

There  :  in  that  lande,  no  drowsie  sleepe  is  broken, 
with  hotte  alarmes,  which  terrours  doe  betoken. 

For  during  all  king  Numaes  raigne,  it  was  never  heard 
that  ever  there  were  any  warres,  civil  dissention,  or  innova- 
tion of  government  attempted  against  him,  nor  yet  any  secret 
enmitie  or  malice  borne  him,  neither  any  conspiracie  once 
thought  on  to  reigne  in  his  place.  And  whether  it  was  for 
feare  of  displeasing  the  godds  (which  visibly  seemed  to  take 
him  into  their  protection)  or  for  the  reverent  regarde  they 
had  unto  his  vertue,  or  for  his  prosperous  and  good  successe 
all  the  time  he  raigned,  I  cannot  tell :  howbeit  he  sought  to 

194 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

keepe  men  still  pure,  and  honest,  from  all  wickednes,  and       NUMA 
layed  most  open  before  the  eyes  of  the  whole  world,  a  very  POMPILIUS 
example  of  that  which  Plato  long  time  after  did  affirme,  and 
saye,   concerning   true   government :    which   was.  That  the 
only   meane  of  true  quietnes,  and    remedy  from   all   evill 
(which    ever   troubleth   men)   was :    when   by  some    divine 
ordinaunce  from  above  there  meteth  in  one  person,  the  right  Platoes saying 
majestie  of  a  King,  and  the  minde  of  a  wise  philosopher,  to  ^^j^^'l^""."^ 
make  vertue  governesse  and  ruler  over  vice.     For  in  deede  ^^  ^  common 
happie  is  such  a  wise  man,  and  more  happy  are  they,  which  ^gale. 
maye  heare  the  grave  counsaill,  and  good  lessons  of  such  a 
mouthe.     And  there  me  thincks  needeth  no  force,  no  com- 
pulsion, no  threates,  nor  extremitie  to  bridle  the  people. 
For  men  seeing  the  true  image  of  vertue  in  their  visible 
prince,  and  in  the  example  of  his  life,  doe  willingly  growe  to 
be  wise,  and  of  them  selves  doe  fall  into  love  liking,  and  friend- 
shippe  together,  and  doe  use  all  temperaunce,  j  ust  dealing, 
and  good  order  one  toward  another,  leading  their  life  with- 
out offence,  and  with  the  commendation  of  other  :  which  is 
the  chiefe  pointe  of  felicitie,  and  the  most  happie  good  that 
can  light  unto  men.      And  he  by  nature  is  best  worthy 
to  be  a  King,  who  through  his  wisdome  and  vertue,  can 
grafFe  in  mens  manners  such  a  good  disposition  :  and  this, 
Numa  above  all  other,  seemed  best  to  knowe  and  under- 
stand.    Furthermore,  touching  his  wives  and  children,  there  Numaes 
are  great  contrarieties  among;  the   historiographers.       For  ^^i^es  and 
some  of  them  saye,  he  never  maried  other  wife  then  Tatia,  ^ 
and  that  he  never  had  any  children,  but  one  only  daughter, 
and  she  was  called  Pompilia.     Other  write  to  the  contrarie,  Pompilia, 
that  he  had  foure  sonnes,  Pompo,  Pinus,  Calpus,  and  Ma-  Numaes 
mercus  :  of  every  one  of  the  which  (by  succession  from  the    ^^ 
father  to  the  sonne)  have  descended  the  noblest  races,  and 
most  auncient  houses  of  the  Romaines.     As  the  house  of 
the  Pomponians,  of  Pompo :    the  house  of  the  Pinarians, 
of  Pinus :    the  house  of  the  Calphurnians,  of  Calpus  :  and 
the  house  of  the  jVIamercians,  of  Mamercus.      All   which 
families  by  reason  of  their  first  progenitor  have  kept  the 
surname  of  Reges,  '  Kings.'     There  are  three  other  writers, 
which  doe  reprove  the  two  first :  saying  that  they  dyd  write 

1  yo 


NUMA 
POMPILIUS 


Pompilia 
maried  to 
Caius  Martius 
Coriolanus. 

Martius  the 
Sabyne,  made 
Senatour  at 
Rome. 

Ancus 
Martius, 
the  Sonne  of 
Caius  Martius 
Coriolanus. 

The  death 
of  Numa. 


Numaes 
bookes. 


LIVES    OF    THE    NOBLE 

to  gratifie  the  families,  making  them  falsely  to  descend  of  the 
noble  race  of  king  Numa.  Moreover  it  is  sayed,  he  had  his 
daughter  Pompilia,  not  by  Tatia,  but  by  his  other  wife 
called  Lucretia,  whom  he  maried  after  he  was  made  King. 
Howbeit  they  all  agree,  that  his  daughter  Pompilia  was 
maried  unto  one  Martius,  the  sonne  of  the  same  Martius, 
which  persuaded  him  to  accept  the  kingdome  of  Rome. 
For  he  went  with  him  to  Rome,  to  remaine  there :  where 
they  dyd  him  the  honour  to  receyve  him  into  the  number 
of  the  Senatours.  After  the  death  of  Numa,  Martius  the 
father  stoode  against  Tullus  Hostilius  for  the  succession  of 
the  Realme,  and  being  overcome,  he  killed  him  selfe  for 
sorowe.  But  his  sonne  Martius,  who  maried  Pompilia,  con- 
tinued still  at  Rome,  where  he  begotte  Ancus  Martius,  who 
was  king  of  Rome  after  Tullus  Hostilius,  and  was  but  five 
yere  olde  when  Numa  dyed.  Whose  death  was  not  sodaine. 
For  he  dyed  consuming  by  litle  and  litle,  aswell  through 
age,  as  also  through  a  lingring  disease  that  waited  on  him 
to  his  ende,  as  Piso  hath  written :  and  Numa  at  his  death 
was  litle  more,  then  foure  score  yere  old.  But  the  pompe 
and  honour  done  unto  him  at  his  funeralles,  made  his  life 
yet  more  happie  and  glorious.  For  all  the  people  his 
neighbours,  friendes,  kinsemen,  and  allies  of  the  Romaines 
came  thither,  bringing  crownes  with  them,  and  other  pub- 
licke  contributions  to  honour  his  obsequies.  The  noble  men 
selves  of  tlie  cittie  (which  were  called  Patricians)  caried  on 
their  shoulders  the  very  bedd,  on  which  the  course  laye,  to 
be  conveyed  to  his  grave.  The  Priestes  attended  also  on 
his  bodie,  and  so  dyd  all  the  rest  of  the  people,  women  and 
children  in  like  case,  which  followed  him  to  his  tumbe,  all 
bewaling  and  lamenting  his  death,  with  teares,  sighes,  and 
mournings.  Not  as  a  King  dead  for  very  age,  but  as  they 
had  mourned  for  the  death  of  their  dearest  kinseman,  and 
nearest  friende  that  had  dyed  before  he  Avas  olde.  They 
burnt  not  his  bodie,  bicause  (as  some  saye)  he  commaunded 
the  contrarie  by  his  will  and  testament :  but  they  made  two 
coffines  of  stone,  which  they  buried  at  the  foote  of  the  hill 
called  laniculum.  In  the  one  they  layed  his  bodie,  and  in  the 
other  the  holy  bookes  which  he  had  written  him  selfe,  much 
196 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

like  unto  those,  which  they  that  made  the  lawes  among  the       NUMA 
Grecians  dyd  write  in  tables.     But  bicause  in  his  life  time  POMPILIUS 
he  had  taught  the  priestes,  the  substaunce  of  the  whole  con- 
teined  in  the  same :  he  willed  the  holy  tables  which  he  had 
written,  should  be  buried  with  his  bodie.     For  he  thought  it 
not  reasonable  that  so  holy  matters  should  be  kept  by  dead 
letters  and  writings,  but  by  mens  manners  and  exercises. 
And  he  followed  herein  they  saye,  the  Pythagorians,  who  Why  the 
would  not  put  their  worckes  in  writing,  but  dyd  printe  the  Pythagorians 
knowledge  of  them  in  their  memories,  whom  they  knew  to  !^    nothing 
be  worthy  men,  and  that  without  any  writing  at  all.     And 
if  they  had  tauglit  any  manner  of  persone  the  hidden  rules 
and  secretes  of  Geometrie,  which  had  not  bene  worthy  of 
them :    then   they    sayed   the   goddes   by   manifest   tokens 
would  threaten,  to  revenge   such    sacriledge   and  impietie, 
with  some  great  destruction  and  miserie.     Therefore,  seeing 
so  many  things  agreable,  and  altogether  like  betweene  Numa 
and    Pythagoras,  I   easely   pardon   those   which   mainteine 
their  opinion,  that  Numa  and  Pythagoras  were  familiarly 
acquainted,  and  conversant  together.     Valerius  Antias  the 
historian  writeth,  there  were   twelve   bookes   written   con-  12  bookes  of 
cerning  the  office  of  Priestes,  and  twelve  other  conteining  priesthood, 
the  philosophic  of  the  Grecians.     And  that  foure  hundred  12  bookes  of 
yeres  after  (in  the  same  yere  when  Publius  Cornelius,  and  philosophie. 
Marcus  Bebius  were  consuls)  there  fell  a  great  rage  of  waters 
and  raine,  which  opened  the  earthe,  and  discovered  these 
coffines :    and  the  liddes   and  covers   thereof  being  caried 
awaye,  they  founde  the  one  altogether  voyde,  having   no 
manner  of  likelyhoode,  or  token  of  a  bodie  that  had  layen 
in  it :    and  in  the  other  they  founde  these  bookes,  which 
were  delivered  unto  one  named  Petilius  (at  that  time  Praetor) 
who  had  the  charge  to  reade  them  over,  and  to  make  the 
reporte  of  them.     But  he  having  perused  them  over,  declared 
to  the  Senate,  that  he  thought  it  not  convenient  the  matters 
conteined  in   them   should   be   published  unto  the   simple 
people  :  and  for  that  cause  they  were  caried  into  the  market 
place,  and  there  were  openly  burnte.     Surely  it  is  a  common  Good  men 
thing,  that  happeneth  unto  all  good   and  just   men,  that  pr^iysed  after 
they  are  farre  more  praysed  and  esteemed  after  their  death,  *        death. 

197 


LIVES   OF   THE    NOBLE 

NUMA        then  before  :  bicause  that  envie  doth  not  long  continue  after 
POMPILIUS  their  death,  and  oftentimes  it  dieth  before  them.     But  not- 
The  mis- 
fortunes of 
Numaes 


successours. 
Hostilius. 


withstanding,  the   misfortunes  which  chaunced  afterwardes 
unto  the  five  Kings  which  raigned  at  Rome  after  Numa,  have 
made  his  honour  shine,  with  much  more  noble  glorie  then 
before.     For  the  last  of  them  was  driven  out  of  his  King- 
dome,  and  died  in  exile,  after  he  was  very  olde.     And  of 
the  other  foure,  none  of  them  died  their  naturall  death,  but 
three  of  them  were  killed  by  treason.     And  Tullus  Hostilius 
*"  which  raigned  after  Numa,  deriding,  and  contemning  the 
most  parte  of  his  good  and  holy  institutions,  and  chiefly  his 
devotion  towardes  the  goddes,  as  a  thing  which  made  men 
lowly  and  fainte  harted  :  dyd  assone  as  ever  he  came  to  be 
King,  turne  all  his  subjects  hartes  to  the  warres.     But  this 
mad  humour  of  his,  continued  not  long.    For  he  was  plagued 
with  a  straunge,  and  most  grievous  disease  that  followed  him, 
which  brought  him  to  chaunge  his  minde,  and  dyd  farre  other- 
wise turne  his  contempt  of  Religion,  into  an  overfearfull  super- 
stition, which  dyd  nothing  yet  resemble  the  true  Religion  and 
devotion  of  Numa  :  and  besides,  he  infected  others  with 
his  contagious  errour,  through  the  inconvenience 
which  happened  unto  him  at  his  death.    For  he 
was  stricken  and  burnt  with  lightning. 


198 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 


THE  COMPARISON  OF 
LYCURGUS  WITH  NUMA 


HUS  having  written  the  lives  of  Lycurgus 
and  Numa,  the  matter  requireth,  though 
it  be  somewhat  harde  to  doe,  that  we 
comparing  the  one  with  the  other,  should 
set  out  the  difference  betweene  them.  For 
in  those  things  wherein  they  were  like  of 
condition,  their  deedes  doe  shewe  it  suffi- 
ciently. As  in  their  temperaunce,  their 
devotion  to  the  goddes,  their  wisdome  in  governing,  and 
their  discreete  handling  of  their  people,  by  making  them 
beleeve  that  the  goddes  had  revealed  the  lawes  unto  them, 
which  they  established.  And  nowe  to  come  unto  their 
qualities,  which  are  diversely,  and  severally  commended  in 
either  of  them.  Their  first  qualitie  is,  that  Numa  accepted 
the  Kingdome,  and  Lycurgus  gave  it  up.  The  one  receyved 
it,  not  seeking  for  it :  and  the  other  having  it  in  his  handes, 
did  restore  it  againe.  The  one  being  a  straunger,  and  a 
private  man :  was  by  straungers  elected  and  chosen,  their 
lorde  and  King.  The  other  being  in  possession  a  King, 
made  him  selfe  againe  a  private  persone.  Suer  it  is  a 
goodly  thing  to  obtaine  a  Realme  by  justice  :  but  it  is  a 
goodlier  thing  to  esteeme  justice  above  a  Realme.  Vertue 
brought  the  one  to  be  in  such  reputation,  that  he  was  judged 
worthy  to  be  chosen  a  King :  and  vertue  bred  so  noble  a 
minde  in  the  other,  that  he  esteemed  not  to  be  a  King. 
Their  second  qualitie  is,  that  like  as  in  an  instrument  of 
musicke,  the  one  of  them  did  tune  and  wrest  up  tlie  slacke 
stringes  which  were  in  Sparta :  so  the  other  slackened,  and 
set  them  lower,  which  were  to  highe  mounted  in  Rome. 
Wherein  Lycurgus  difficulty  was  the  greater.  For  he  did 
not  persuade  his  cittizens,  to  plucke  of  their  armour  and 
curates,  nor  to  laye  by  their  swordes :  but  only  to  leave 
their  golde  and  silver,  to  forsake  their  softe  beddes,  their 

199 


Tlie  vertues 
of  Numa  and 
Lycurgus 
were  alike, 
but  their 
deeds  divers. 


What  things 
were  harde  to 
Lycurgus. 


LYCURGLS 

AND 

NUMA 


Slaves  sat 
with  their 
masters  at 
Saturn  es 
feasts, 
^lacrob. 
Satu}'.  lib.  I. 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

fine  wrought  tables,  and  other  curious  riche  furniture,  and 
not  to  leave  of  the  travell  of  warres,  to  geve  them  selves 
only  unto  feastes,  sacrifices,  and  playes.  But  to  the  contrarie, 
to  geve  up  bancketing  and  feasting,  and  continually  to 
take  paynes  in  the  warres,  yelding  their  bodies  to  all  kinde 
of  paynes.  By  which  meanes,  the  one  for  the  love  and 
reverence  they  did  beare  him,  easely  persuaded  all  that  he 
would :  and  the  other,  by  putting  him  selfe  in  daunger,  and 
being  hurte  also,  obtained  not  without  great  travell  and 
adventure,  the  end  of  his  intended  purpose  and  desire. 
Xuma  his  muse  was  so  gentle,  loving,  and  curteous,  that 
the  manners  of  his  cittizens,  which  before  were  furious  and 
violent,  were  now  so  tractable  and  civill,  that  he  taught 
them  to  love  peace  and  justice.  And  to  the  contrarie,  if 
they  will  compell  me  to  number  amongest  the  lawes  and 
ordinaunces  of  Lycurgus,  that  which  we  have  written  touch- 
ing the  Ilotes,  which  was  a  barbarous  cruell  thing :  I  must 
of  force  confesse  that  Numa  was  muche  wiser,  more  gentle, 
and  civill  in  his  lawes,  considering  that  even  unto  those 
which  in  deede  were  borne  slaves,  he  gave  some  litle 
tast  of  honour,  and  sweetnes  of  libertie,  having  ordained, 
that  in  the  feastes  of  Saturne,  they  should  sit  doAvne  at 
meate,  at  their  masters  owne  table.  Some  holde  opinion, 
that  this  custome  was  brought  in  by  king  Numa :  who  willed 
that  those,  which  through  their  labour  in  tillage  brought  in 
much  fruite,  should  have  some  pleasure  thereof  to  make 
good  cheere  with  the  first  fruites  of  the  same.  Other 
imagine,  that  it  is  yet  a  token  and  remembraunce  of  the 
equalitie,  Avhich  was  emongest  men  in  the  world  in  Saturnes 
time,  when  there  was  neither  master  nor  servaunte,  but  all 
men  were  alike  equall,  as  brethern  or  kinsemen.  To  con- 
clude, it  seemeth  either  of  them  tooke  a  direct  course, 
thought  best  to  them  selves,  to  frame  their  people  unto 
temperaunce,  and  to  be  contented  with  their  owne.  But  for 
their  other  vertues,  itappeareth  that  the  one  loved  warre  best, 
and  the  other  justice  :  onles  it  were  that  men  would  saye,  that 
for  the  diversitie  of  the  nature  or  custome  of  their  people 
(which  were  almost  contrarie  in  manners)  they  were  both 
compelled  to  use  also  contrary  and  divers  meanes  from  other. 
200 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

For  it  was  not  of  a  fainte  harte,  that  Numa  tooke  from  his  LYCURGUS 
people  the  use  of  armes,  and  desire  to  be  in  warres :   but  ^^'^ 

it  was  to  the  ende  they  should  not  doe  any  wrong  to  others.       NUMA 
Neither    did    Lycurgus    also    studie    to    make    his    people  Divers  causes 
souldiers  and  warlike,  to  hurte  others :  but  for  feare  rather  of  the  diver- 
that  others  should  hurte  them.     And   so,  to   cut  of  the  ^J^jions  oT*^" 
excesse  in  the  one,  and  to  supply  the  defect  of  the  other :  ^uma  and 
they  were  both  enforced  to  bring  in  a  straunge  manner  of  Lycurgus. 
government.      Furthermore,  touching  their   severall   kinde 
of  government,  and  dividing  of  their  people  into  states  and 
companies  :  that  of  Numa  was  marvelous  meane  and  base, 
and  framed  to  the  liking  of  the  meanest  people,  making  a 
bodie  of  a  cittie,  and  a  people  compounded  together  of  all 
sortes,  as  goldesmithes,  minstrells,  founders,  shoemakers,  and  Description  of 
of  all  sortes  of  craftes  men  and  occupations  together.     But  *^^^'*  people, 
that  of  Lycurgus,  was  directly  contrarie :  for  his  was  more 
severe  and  tyrannicall,  in  governing  of  the  nobility,  cast- 
ing all  craftes  and  base  occupations  upon  bondemen  and 
straungers,  and  putting  into  the  handes  of  his  cittizens  the 
shield  and  launce,  suffering  them  to  exercise  no  other  arte  or 
science,  but  the  arte  and  discipline  of  warres,  as  the  true 
ministers  of  Mars :   which  all  their  life  time  never  knewe 
other  science,  but  only  learned  to  obey  their  captaines,  and 
to  commaund  their  enemies.     For  to  have  any  occupation, 
to  buye  and  sell,  or  to  trafficke,  free  men  were  expressely 
forbidden :    bicause   they  should  wholy  and   absolutely  be 
free.     And  all  sciences  to  get  money  was  lawfull  for  slaves, 
and  the  Ilotes :  being  counted  for  as  vile  an  occupation,  as 
to  dresse  meate,  and  to  be  a  scullian  of  a  kitchin.     Numa 
put  not  this  difference  amongest  his  people,  but  only  tooke 
away  covetous  desire  to  be  riche  by  warres :  but  otherwise, 
he  did  not  forbid  them  to  get  goodes  by  any  other  lawfull 
meanes,  neither  tooke  any  regarde  to  bring  all  to  equalitie, 
and  to  be  a  like  wealthy,  but  suffered  every  man  to  get 
what  he  could,  taking  no  order  to  prevent  povertie,  which 
crept  in,  and  spred  farre  in  his  cittie.     Which  he  should 
have  looked  unto  at  the  beginning,  at  that  time  when  there 
was  not  too  great  an  unequalitie  amongest  them,  and  that 
his  cittizens  for  substaunce  were  in  manner  equall  one  with 
2C  201 


LYCURGUS 

AND 

NUMA 


Reasou  for 
manages. 


Numaes  order 
for  maydens 
the  better. 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

another :  for  then  was  the  time  when  he  should  have  made 
head  against  avarice,  to  have  stopped  the  mischieves  and  in- 
conveniences, which  fell  out  afterwards,  and  they  were  not 
litle.  For  that  only  was  the  fountaine  and  roote,  of  the 
most  parte  of  the  greatest  evills  and  mischieves,  which 
happened  afterwardes  in  Rome.  And  as  touching  the  divi- 
sion of  goodes :  neither  ought  Lycurgus  to  be  blamed  for 
doing  it,  nor  Numa  for  that  he  did  it  not.  For  this  equality 
unto  the  one,  was  a  ground  and  foundation  of  his  common 
wealth,  which  he  afterwards  instituted :  and  unto  other,  it 
could  not  be.  For  this  division  being  made  not  long  before 
the  time  of  his  predecessour,  there  was  no  great  neede  to 
chaunge  the  first,  the  which  (as  it  is  likely)  remained  yet  in 
full  perfection.  As  touching  mariages,  and  their  children  to 
be  in  common,  both  the  one  and  the  other  wisely  sought  to 
take  awaye  all  occasion  of  jealousie :  but  yet  they  tooke  not 
both  one  course.  For  the  Romaine  husband,  having  children 
enough  to  his  contentation  :  if  another  that  lacked  children 
came  unto  him,  to  praye  him  to  lende  him  his  wife,  he  might 
graunte  her  unto  him,  and  it  was  in  him  to  geve  her  alto- 
gether, or  to  lende  her  for  a  time,  and  to  take  her  after- 
wardes againe.  But  the  Laconian,  keeping  his  wife  in  his 
house,  and  the  mariage  remaining  whole  and  unbroken, 
might  let  out  his  wife  to  any  man  that  would  require  her 
to  have  children  by  her:  naye  furthermore,  many  (as  we 
have  told  you  before)  did  them  selves  intreat  men,  by  whom 
they  thought  to  have  a  trimme  broode  of  children,  and  layed 
them  with  their  wives.  What  difference,  I  praye  you  was 
betwene  these  two  customes  ?  saving  that  the  custome  of 
the  Laconians  shewed,  that  the  husbands  were  nothing 
angrie,  nor  grieved  with  their  wives  for  those  things,  which 
for  sorrowe  and  jealousie  doth  rent  the  hartes  of  most 
maried  men  in  the  world.  And  that  of  the  Romaines  was 
a  simplicitie  somwhat  more  shamefast,  which  to  cover  it,  was 
shadowed  yet  with  the  cloke  of  matrimonie,  and  contract  of 
mariage :  confessing  that  to  use  wife  and  children  by  halfes 
together,  was  a  thing  most  intollerable  for  him.  Further- 
more, the  keeping  of  maidens  to  be  maried  by  Numaes  order, 
was  much  straighter  and  more  honorable  for  womanhed  :  and 
202 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

Lycvirgus  order   having  to  much  scope   and  libertie,  gave   LYCURGUS 
Poets  occasion  to  speake,  and  to  geve  them  surnames  not  and 

very  honest.      As    Ibycus  called    them   Phcenomeridas :    to       NUMA 
saye,  thighe  showei*s :  and  Andromanes:    to  saye  manhood. 
And  Euripides  sayeth  also  of  them, 

Good  nut  browne  girles  which  left,  their  fathers  house  at  large, 
and  sought  for  young  mens  companie,  and  tooke  their  ware  in 
charge : 

And  shewed  their  thighes  all  bare,  the  taylour  did  them  wrong, 
on  eche  side  open  were  their  cotes,  the  sljrtts  were  all  to  long. 

And  in  deede  to  saye  truely,  the  sides  of  their  petticotes 
were  not  sowed  beneath  :  so  that  as  they  went,  they  shewed 
their  thighes  naked  and  bare.  The  which  Sophocles  doth 
easely  declare  by  these  verses  : 

The  songe  which  you  shall  singe,  shalbe  the  sonnet  sayde, 

by  Hermione  lusty  lasse,  that  strong  and  sturdy  mayde  : 
Which  trust  her  petticote,  about  her  midle  shorte, 

and  set  to  shewe  her  naked  hippes,  in  francke  and  frendly  sorte. 

And  therefore  it  is  sayed,  the  Lacon  wives  were  bolde,  TheLaconians 
manly,  and  stowte  against  their  husbands,  namely  the  first,  were  to  manly. 
For  they  were  wholy  mistresses  in  the  house,  and  abroade : 
yea  they  had  law  on  their  side  also,  to  utter  their  mindes 
franckly  concerning  the  chiefest  matters.     But  Numa  ever 
reserved  the  honour  and  dignitie  unto  the  women,  which  was 
left  them  by  Romulus  in  his  time,  when  their  husbands,  after 
they  had  taken  them  awaye  perforce,  disposed  them  selves  to 
use  them  as  gentely  as  possibly  they  could :  nevertheles,  he 
added  otherwise  thereto,  great  honesty,  and  tooke  awaye  all  The  Romaine 
curiositie  from  them,  and  taught  them  sobrietie,  and  did  women  very 
inure  them  to  speake  litle.     For  he  did  utterly  forbid  them  "modest, 
wine,  and  did  prohibite  them  to  speake,  although  it  were  for 
things   necessarie,  onles   it   were   in  the   presence   of  their 
husbands.     In   so   much   as  it  is  reported,  that  a  woman 
chauncing  one  daye  to  pleade  her  cause  in  persone,  openly 
before  the  judges:  the  Senate  hearing  of  it,  did  send  imme- 
diately unto  the  oracle  of  Apollo,  to  know  what  that  did 
prognosticate  to  the  cittie.      And  therfore  Numa  thought 

203 


LYCURGUS 

AND 

NUMA 


The  first 
divorce  at 
Rome. 


HoAve  much 
education  and 
discipline  is 
worthe. 

Arist.  i)olit.  8. 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

the  memorie  of  the  naughty  women,  would  much  commend 
the  great  humihtie,  gentlenes,  and  obedience  of  the  good.  For 
Hke  as  our  Grecian  historiographers  doe  note  those  which  were 
the  first  that  killed  any  of  their  cittizens,  or  have  fought  with 
their  brethern,  or  have  killed  their  fathers  or  mothers :  even 
so  the  Romames  doe  note  that  Spurius  Car\'ilius  was  the  first 
which  forsooke  his  wife,  two  hundred  and  thirtie  yeres  after 
the  first  foundation  of  Rome,  which  was  never  done  by  any 
before.  And  that  the  wife  of  one  Pinarius,  called  Thalaea, 
was  the  first  which  ever  brawled  or  quarrelled  with  her  mother 
in  lawe  called  Gegania,  in  the  time  when  Tarquine  surnamed 
the  prowde  raigned :  so  well  and  honestly  were  the  orders  of 
Numa  devised  concerning  mariage.  Moreover,  the  age  and 
time  of  marying  of  maydes,  which  both  the  one  and  the 
other  ordeined :  doth  agree  with  the  rest  of  their  education. 
For  Lycurgus  would  not  that  they  should  be  maried,  till 
they  were  of  good  yeres,  and  women  growen  :  to  the  ende 
that  they  knowing  the  company  of  man  at  such  time  as 
nature  requireth,  it  should  be  a  beginning  of  their  pleasure 
and  love,  and  not  of  griefe  and  hate,  when  she  should  be 
compelled  unto  it  before  time  agreable  by  nature,  and 
bicause  their  bodies  also  should  be  more  stronge  and  able  to 
beare  children,  and  to  indure  the  mothers  painefull  throwes 
and  travell  in  childe  bearing,  considering  they  are  maried  to 
no  other  ende,  but  to  beare  children.  But  the  Romaines  to 
the  contrarie,  doe  marye  them  at  twelve  yeres  of  age,  and 
under :  saying,  that  by  this  meanes  their  bodies  and  manners 
be  wholy  theirs,  which  doe  marye  them,  being  assured  that 
no  body  els  could  touch  them.  By  this  reason  it  is  manifest, 
that  the  one  is  more  naturall,  to  make  them  strong  to  beare 
children  :  and  the  other  more  morall,  to  geve  them  the 
forme  and  manner  of  conditions,  which  a  man  would  have 
them  to  kepe  all  their  life  time.  Moreover  touching  orders 
for  education  of  children,  that  they  should  be  brought  up, 
instructed,  and  taught,  under  the  selfe  same  masters  and 
govemours,  which  should  have  an  eye  to  make  them  drincke, 
eate,  playe,  and  exercise  them  selves  honestly,  and  orderly 
together :  Numa  made  no  more  provision  for  the  same,  then 
the  least  maker  of  lawes  that  ever  was,  and  nothing  in  com- 
204 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

parison  of  Lycurgus.     For  Numa  left  the  parents  at  libertie,   LYCURGUS 
to  use  their  discretion  (according  unto  their  covetousnes  or  and 

necessitie)  to  cause  their  children  to  be  brought  up  as  they  NUMA 
thought  good  :  whether  they  would  put  them  to  be  labourers, 
carpinters,  founders,  or  minstrells.  As  if  they  should  not 
frame  the  manners  of  children,  and  facion  them  from  their 
cradell  all  to  one  ende :  but  should  be  as  it  were  like  pas- 
sengers in  one  shippe,  which  being  there,  some  for  one  busines, 
other  for  another  purpose,  but  all  to  divers  endes,  doe  never 
medle  one  with  another,  but  in  a  rough  storme  or  tempest, 
when  every  man  is  affrayed  of  his  ovme  life.  For  otherwise, 
no  man  careth  but  for  him  selfe.  And  other  makers  of  lawes 
also,  are  to  be  borne  withall,  if  any  thing  hath  scaped 
them  through  ignoraunce,  or  some  time  through  lacke  of 
sufficient  power  and  authoritie.  But  a  wise  philosopher, 
having  receyved  a  realme  of  people  newly  gathered  together, 
which  dyd  contrary  him  in  nothing :  whereto  should  he  most 
plye  his  studie  and  indevour,  but  to  cause  children  to  be  well 
brought  up,  and  to  make  young  men  exercise  them  selves, 
to  the  ende  they  should  not  differ  in  manners,  nor  that  they 
should  be  troublesome,  by  their  divers  manner  of  bringing 
up,  but  that  they  should  all  agree  together,  for  that  they 
had  bene  trained  from  their  childhood  unto  one  selfe  trade, 
and  facioned  under  one  selfe  patteme  of  vertue  ?  That  good 
education,  besides  other  commodities,  dyd  also  serve  to  How  Lycur- 
preserve  Lycurgus  lawes.  For  the  feare  of  their  othe  which  gus  lawes  wen 
they  had  made,  had  bene  of  small  effect,  if  he  had  not  through  sta^ished. 
institution,  and  education  (as  it  were)  dyed  in  wolle  the 
manners  of  children,  and  had  not  made  them  from  their 
nources  brestes  in  manner,  sucke  the  luice  and  love  of  his 
lawes,  and  civill  ordinaunces.  And  this  was  of  suche  force, 
that  for  the  space  of  five  hundred  yeres  and  more,  Lycurgus 
chief  lawes  and  ordinaunces  remained  in  full  perfection,  as  a 
deepe  woded  dye,  which  went  to  the  bottome,  and  pearced 
into  the  tender  wolle.  Contrariwise,  that  which  was  Numaes  ^Vliy  Numaes 
chief  ende  and  purpose,  to  continew  Rome  in  peace  and  orders  dyed, 
amitie,  dyed  by  and  by  with  him.  For  he  was  no  soner 
dead,  but  they  opened  both  the  gates  of  the  temple  of  lanus, 
which  he  so  carefully  had  kept  shut  all  his  reigne,  as  if  in 

205 


AND 

NUMA 


LIVES    OF    THE    NOBLE 

LYCURGUS  deede  he  had  kept  in  warres  there,  under  locke  and  keye,  and 
they  filled  all  Italic  with  murder  and  bloude :  and  this  his 
godly,  holy,  and  just  government  which  his  Realme  enjo^-ed 
all  his  time,  did  not  last  long  after,  bicause  it  had  not  the 
bonde  of  education,  and  the  discipline  of  children  which 
should  mainteine  it.  Why,  maye  a  man  saye  to  me  here : 
Hath  not  Rome  excelled  still,  and  prevailed  more  and  more 
in  chevalrie  ?  This  question  requireth  a  long  aunswer,  and 
specially  unto  such  men,  as  place  felicitie  in  riches,  in  posses- 
sions, and  in  the  greatness  of  empire,  rather  then  in  the 
quiet  safety,  peace,  and  concorde  of  a  common  weale :  and 
in  clemency  and  justice,  joyned  with  contentation.  Never- 
theles,  howsoever  it  was,  that  maketh  for  Lycurgus  also,  that 
the  Romaines,  after  they  had  chaunged  the  state  which  they 
had  of  Numa,  dyd  so  marvelously  increase  and  growe  mightie  : 
and  that  the  Lacedasmonians  to  the  contrarie,  so  soone  as 
they  beganne  to  breake  Lycurgus  lawes,  being  of  great 
authoritie  and  swaye,  fell  afterwards  to  be  of  small  accompt. 
So  that  having  lost  the  soveraintie  and  commaundement 
over  Grece,  they  stoode  in  great  hazarde  also  to  be  over- 
throwen  for  ever.  But  in  trothe  it  was  some  divine  thing  in 
Numa,  that  he  being  a  meere  straunger,  the  Romames  dyd 
seeke  him,  to  make  him  King,  and  that  he  could  so  chaunge 
all,  and  rule  a  whole  cittie  as  he  listed  (not  yet  joyned 
together)  without  neede  of  any  force  or  violence :  as  it  was 
in  Lycurgus,  to  be  assisted  with  the  best  of  the  citty,  in 
resisting  the  commons  of  Lacedsemon,  but  he  could 
never  otherwise  have  kept  them  in  peace,  and 
made  them  love  together,  but  by  his  only 
wisdom  and  justice. 


Why  Numa 
is  to  be  pre- 
ferred before 
Lycurgus. 


THE  ENDE  OF  NUMA  POMPILIUS  LIFE 


206 


^"^ 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 


THE  LIFE  OF  SOLON 


Great  friend 
shipp  betwix 
Solon  and 
Pisistratus. 


IDYMUS  the  Grammarian,  in  a  litle 
booke  that  he  wrote  and  dedicated  unto 
Asclepiades,  touching  the  tables  of  the 
lawes  of  Solon,  alleageth  the  wordes  of 
one  Philocles,  in  which  he  speaketh  against 
the  common  opinion  of  those  that  have 
written,  that  Solons  father  was  called  Solonslinag( 
Euphorion.  For  all  other  writers  agree, 
that  he  was  the  sonne  of  Execestides,  a  man  but  reasonably 
to  live,  although  otherwise  he  was  of  the  noblest  and  most 
auncient  house  of  the  cittie  of  Athens.  For  of  his  fathers 
side,  he  was  descended  of  king  Codrus :  and  for  his  mother, 
Heraclides  Ponticus  writeth,  she  was  cosin  germaine  unto 
Pisistratus  mother.  For  this  cause  even  from  the  beginning 
there  was  great  friendshippe  betwene  them,  partely  for  their 
kinred,  and  partely  also  for  the  curtesie,  and  beawtie  of 
Pisistratus,  with  whom  it  is  reported  Solon  on  a  time  was  in 
love.  Afterwards  they  fortuned  to  fall  at  jarre  one  with  the 
other,  about  matter  of  state  and  government :  yet  this  square 
bred  no  violent  inconvenience  betwene  them,  but  they 
reserved  in  their  hartes  still  their  auncient  amitie,  which 
continued  the  memorie  of  their  love,  as  a  great  fire  doth  a 
burning  flame.  That  Solon  was  no  stayed  man  to  withstand 
beawtie,  nor  any  great  doer  to  prevaile  in  love,  it  is  manifest 
to  all,  aswell  by  other  poeticall  writings  that  he  hath  made, 
as  by  a  lawe  of  his  owne :  wherein  he  dyd  forbid  bondmen 
to  perfume  them  selves,  or  to  be  lovers  of  children.  WTio 
placed  this  lawe  among  honest  matters,  and  commendable : 
as  allowing  it  to  the  better  sorte,  and  forbidding  it  to  the 
basest.  They  saye  also  that  Pisistratus  selfe  was  in  love  with 
Charmus,  and  that  he  dyd  set  up  the  litle  image  of  love, 
which  is  in  Academia,  where  they  were  wont  to  light  the 
holy  candell.  But  Solons  father  (as  Hermippus  writeth) 
having  spent  his  goodes  in  liberalitie,  and  deedes  of  curtesie, 
though  he  might  easely  have  bene  relieved  at  divers  mens 

207 


A  statute  foi 
bondmen. 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 


Solon  gave 
him  selfe  in 


SOLON  handes  with  money,  he  was  yet  ashamed  to  take  any,  bicause 
he  came  of  a  house  which  was  wont  rather  to  geve  and  relieve 
others,  then  to  take  them  selves  :  so  being  yet  a  young  man, 
he  devised  to  trade  marchaundise.  Howbeit  other  saye, 
that  Solon  travelled  countries,  rather  to  see  the  worlde,  and 
to  learne :  then  to  trafficke,  or  ga,yne.  For  sure  he  was  very 
niarchaundise  ^^^i^'^us  of  knowledge,  as  appeareth  manifestly  :  for  that 
being  nowe  olde,  he  commonly  used  to  saye  this  verse : 

I  growe  olde,  learning  still. 

Also  he  was  not  covetously  bent,  nor  loved  riches  to 
much  :  for  he  sayd  in  one  place : 

Who  so  hath  goodes,  and  golde  enough  at  call, 

freat  heards  of  beastes,  and  flocks  in  many  a  folde, 
oth  horse  and  mule,  yea  store  of  come  and  all, 
that  maye  content  eche  man  above  the  mowlde  : 
no  richer  is,  for  all  those  heapes  and  hoordes, 
then  he  which  hathe,  sufficiently  to  feede, 
and  clothe  his  corpes,  with  such  as  god  afoordes. 
But  if  is  joye,  and  chief  delight  doe  breede,  ' 

for  to  beholde  the  fayer  and  heavenly  face, 
of  some  swete  wife,  which  is  adornde  with  grace  : 
or  els  some  childe,  of  beawty  fayre  and  bright, 
then  hath  he  cause  (in  deede)  of  deepe  delight. 

And  in  another  place  also  he  sayeth  : 

In  deede  I  doe  desii-e,  some  wealthe  to  have  at  will : 
but  not  unles  the  same  be  got,  by  faithfull  dealing  still. 

For  suer  who  so  desires  by  wickednes  to  thrive  : 

shall  finde  that  justice  from  such  goodes,  will  justly  him 
deprive. 

There  is  no  law  forbiddeth  an  honest  man,  or  gentleman, 
greedily  to  scrape  goods  together,  and  more  then  may  suffice  : 
and  likewise  to  get  sufficient  to  mainteine  one  withall,  and  to 
defraye  all  needefull  charges.  In  those  dayes  no  state  was 
discommended,  as  sayeth  Hesiodus,  nor  any  arte  or  science 
made  any  difference  betwene  men  :  but  marchaundise  they 
thought  an  honorable  state,  as  that  which  delivered  meanes, 
to  traffike  into  straunge  and  farre  countries,  to  get  acquaint- 
aunce  with  states,  to  procure  the  love  of  princes,  and  chiefly 
to  gather  the  experience  of  the  world.    So  that  there  have  bene 

208 


Solons  judg- 
mentofriches. 


The  commo- 
dities of  mar- 
chaundise. 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

marchaunts,  which  heretofore  have  bene  founders  of  great     SOLON 
citties :    as   he   which   first   buylt    Massilia,   after   he    had  A  marchaun 
obteined  the  friendshippe  of  the  Gaules,  dwelKng  by  the  ^^^^*1.^^ 
river  of  Rhosne.     And  they  say  also,  that  Thales  Milesius  Massilia. 
the  wise,  did  traffike  marchaundise,  and  that  Hippocrates  the  Thales. 
mathematike  did  even  so :  and  likewise  that  Plato  travelling  Hippocrates 
into  Egipt,  did  beare  the  whole  charges  of  his  iomey,  with  "^^''^-  ^" 
the  gaines  he  made  of  the  sale  of  oile  he  caried  thither. 
They  remember  also,   that    Solon  learned  to  be  lavish  in 
expence,    to    fare    delicately,    and   to    speake    wantonly   of 
pleasures  in  his   Poemes,  somwhat   more   licentiously  then 
became  the  gravity  of  a  Philosopher :  only  bicause  he  was 
brought  up  in  the  trade  of  marchaundise,  wherein  for  that 
men  are  marvelous  subject  to  great  losses  and  daungers,  they 
seeke  otherwiles  good  chere  to  drive  these  cares  awaye,  and 
libertie  to  make  much  of  them  selves.     Yet  it  appeareth  by 
these  verses,  that  Solon  accompted  him  selfe  rather  in  the 
number  of  the  poore,  than  of  the  riche. 

Riche  men  (oftimes)  in  lewdest  lives  doe  range.  Poverty  wit 

and  often  seene,  that  vertuous  men  be  poore  :  vertue  bettt 

Yet  would  the  good,  their  goodnes  never  chaunge  than  riches, 

with  lewd  estate,  although  their  wealthe  be  more. 

For  vertue  stands  allwayes,  both  firme  and  stable  : 
When  riches  rove,  and  seldome  are  durable. 

This  Poetry  at  the  beginning  he  used  but  for  pleasure, 
and  when  he  had  leysure,  writing  no  matter  of  importaunce 
in  his  verses.    Afterwards  he  dyd  set  out  many  grave  matters  How  Solon 
of  philosophie,  and  the  most  parte  of  such  things  as  he  had  »ised  his 
devised  before,  in  the  government  of  a  common  weale,  which  P'^^*"®- 
he  dyd  not  for  historie  or  memories  sake,  but  only  of  a 
pleasure  to  discourse :   for  he  shew  eth  the  reasons  of  that 
he  dyd,  and  in  some  places  he  exhorteth,  chideth,  and  re- 
proveth  the  Athenians.      And  some  affirme  also  he  went 
about  to  \vrite  his  lawes  and  ordinaunces  in  verse,  and  doe 
recite  his  preface,  which  was  this  : 

Vouchesave  O  mighty  love,  of  heaven  and  earth  highe  King  : 
to  graunt  good  fortune  to  my  lawes,  and  beasts  in  everie  thing. 

And  that  their  glorie  growe,  in  such  triumphaunt  wise, 

as  maye  remaine  in  fame  for  aye,  which  lives  and  never  dies. 

2  D  209 


LIVES    OF   THE   NOBLE 

SOLON  He  chiefly  delited  in  morall  philosophic,  which  treated  of 

Solon  delited  government  and  common  weales :  as  the  most  parte  of  the 
in  morall,  but  wise  men  dyd  of  those  times.  But  for  natural!  philosophic, 
notinnaturall  j^g  ^y^g  ygj.y  grosse  and  simple,  as  appeareth  by  these  verses. 

The  clattering  hayle,  and  softly  falling  snowe 

doe  breede  in  ayer,  and  fall  from  cloudes  on  hye. 
The  dreadfull  clappes,  which  thunderbolts  doe  throwe, 

doe  come  from  heaven,  and  lightninges  bright  in  skye. 
The  sea  it  selfe  by  boysterous  blastes  dothe  rore 

which  (were  it  not  provoked  so  full  sore) 
Would  be  both  calme  and  quiet  for  to  passe, 

as  any  element  that  ever  was. 

So  in  eifect  there  was  none  but  Thales  alone  of  all  the  seven 
wise  men  of  Grece,  who  searched  further  the  contemplation 
of  things  in  common  use  among  men,  than  he.  For  setting 
him  a  parte,  all  the  others  got  the  name  of  wisdome,  only  for 
their  understanding  in  matters  of  state  and  government.  It 
is  reported  that  they  met  on  a  daye  all  seven  together  in  the 
cittie  of  Delphes,  and  another  time  in  the  cittie  of  Corinthe, 
where  Periander  got  them  together  at  a  feast  that  he  made  to 
the  other  sixe.  But  that  which  most  increased  their  glorie, 
and  made  their  fame  most  spoken  of,  was  the  sending  backe 
againe  of  the  three  footed  stoole  when  they  all  had  refused 
it,  and  turned  it  over  one  to  another  with  great  humanitie. 
For  the  tale  is,  howe  certaine  fisher  men  of  the  He  of  Co, 
cast  their  nettes  into  the  sea,  and  certaine  straungers  passing 
by,  that  came  from  the  cittie  of  Miletum,  did  buye  their 
draught  of  fishe  at  adventure,  before  the  net  was  drawen. 
Hellens  three  And  when  they  drue  it  up,  there  came  up  in  the  net  a  three 
footed  stoole  footed  stoole  of  massy  gold,  which  men  saye,  Hellen  (as  she 
ofgold  drawen  ^^  returne  from  Trove)  had  thro  wen  in  in  that  place,  in 

lit)  in  1  clrsp*         *'  •  ■*■ 

jjg^  ^     memory  of  an  auncient  oracle  she  called  then  unto  her  minde. 

Thereupon  the  straungers  and  fisher  men  first  fell  at  strife 
about  this  three  footed  stoole,  who  should  have  it :  but  after- 
wardes  the  two  citties  tooke  parte  of  both  sides,  on  their 
cittizens  behalfe.  In  so  much  as  warres  had  like  to  have 
followed  betwene  them,  had  not  the  prophetesse  Pythia 
geven  a  like  oracle  unto  them  both.  That  they  should 
geve  this  three  footed  stoole  unto  the  wisest  man.     Where- 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

upon  the  men  of  Co,  sent  it  first  to  Thales  in  the  cittic  of    SOLON 
Miletum,  as  being  willing  to  graunte  that  unto  a  private 
persone,   for   which    they   had    made   warres   with   all   the 
Milesians  before,     Thales  sayed,  he  thought  Bias  a  wiser  The  rare 
man  than  him  selfe  :  and  so  it  was  sent  unto  him.     He  like-  modesty  of 
wise  sent  it  aganie  unto  another,  as  to  a  wiser  man.     And  *^  ^^^^^  "^®°' 
that  other,  sent  it  also  unto  another.     So  that  being  thus 
posted  from  man  to  man,  and  through  divers  handes,  in  the 
ende  it  was  brought  backe  againe  unto  the  cittie  of  Miletum, 
and  delivered  into  the  handes  of  Thales  the  seconde  time  : 
and  last  of  all  was  caried  unto  Thebes,  and  offered  up  unto 
the  temple  of  Apollo  Ismenian.       Howbeit   Theophrastus 
writeth,  that  first  it  was  sent  to  the  cittie  of  Priena,  unto 
Bias :  and  then  unto  Thales,  in  the  cittie  of  Miletum,  by 
Bias  consent.     And  after  that  it  had  passed  through  all 
their  handes,  it  was  brought  againe  unto  Bias :  and  lastely 
it  was  sent  to  the  cittie  of  Delphes.     And  thus  much  have 
the   best  and  most  auncient  writers  written :    saving   that 
some  saye  in  steade  of  a  three  footed  stoole,  it  was  a  cuppe 
that  king  Croesus  sent  unto  the  cittie  of  Delphes.     Other 
saye,  it  was  a  pece  of  plate  which    Bathycles  left  there. 
They  make  mention  also  of  another  private  meeting  betwext 
Anacharsis  and  Solon,  and  of  another  betweene  him  and 
Thales,  where  they  recite,  that  they  had  this  talke.   Anacharsis  Anacharsis 
being  arrived  at  Athens,  went  to  knocke  at  Solons  gate,  ^^^^  Solons 
saying  that  he  was  a  straunger  which  came  of  purpose  to  see  '"^^"'ig"- 
him,  and  to  desire  his  acquaintaunce  and  friendshippe.    Solon 
aunswered  him,  that  it  was  better  to  seeke  friendshippe  in  his 
owne  countrie.     Anacharsis  replied  againe  :  Thou  then  that 
arte  at  home,  and  in  thine  owne  countrie,  beginne  to  shew  me 
friendshippe.     Then  Solon  wondering  at  his  bolde  ready  wit, 
enterteined  him  very  curteously :   and  kept  him  a  certaine 
time  in  his  house,  and  made  him  very  good  cheere,  at  the 
selfe  same  time  wherein  he  was  most  busie  in  governing  the 
common  weale,   and  making   lawes   for   the  state   thereof. 
Which  when  Anacharsis  understoode,  he  laughed  at  it,  to  Anacharsis 
see  that  Solon  imagined  with  written  lawes,  to  bridell  mens  saying  of 
covetousnes  and  injustice.      For  such  lawes,  sayed  he,  doe  Solons wntte 
rightly  resemble  the  spyders  cobwebbes :  bicause  they  take 

211 


SOLON 


Solons  talke 
with  Thales 
at  Miletum, 
about  ma- 
nage, for 
having  of 
children. 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

holde  of  litle  flies  and  gnattes  which  fall  into  them,  but  the 
riche  and  mightie  will  breake  and  ronne  through  them  at 
their  will.  Solon  answered  him,  that  men  doe  justly  keepe 
all  covenants  and  bargaines  which  one  make  with  another, 
bicause  it  is  to  the  hinderance  of  either  partie  to  breake 
them :  and  even  so,  he  dyd  so  temper  his  lawes,  that  he 
made  his  cittizens  knowe,  it  was  more  for  their  profit  to 
obey  lawe  and  justice,  then  to  breake  it.  Nevertheles  after- 
wardes,  matters  proved  rather  according  to  Anacharsis  com- 
parison, then  agreable  to  the  hope  that  Solon  had  conceyved. 
Anacharsis  being  by  happe  one  daye  in  a  common  assembly 
of  the  people  at  Athens,  sayed  that  he  marvelled  much,  why 
in  the  consultations  and  meetings  of  the  Grecians,  wise  men 
propounded  matters,  and  fooles  dyd  decide  them.  It  is 
sayed  moreover,  that  Solon  was  somtime  in  the  cittie  of 
Miletum  at  Thales  house,  where  he  sayed  that  he  could  not 
but  marvell  at  Thales,  that  he  would  never  marie  to  have 
children.  Thales  gave  him  never  a  worde  at  that  present : 
but  within  fewe  dayes  after  he  suborned  a  straunger,  which 
sayed  that  he  came  but  newly  home  from  Athens,  departing 
from  thence  but  tenne  dayes  before.  Solon  asked  him  imme- 
diately. What  newes  there  ?  This  straunger  whom  Thales 
had  schooled  before,  aunswered :  None  other  there,  saving 
tliat  they  caried  a  young  man  to  buriall,  whom  all  the  cittie 
followed,  for  that  he  was  one  of  the  greatest  mens  sonnes  of 
the  cittie,  and  the  honestest  man  withall,  who  at  that  present 
was  out  of  the  countrie,  and  had  bene  a  long  time  (as  they 
sayed)  abroade.  O  poore  unfortunate  father,  then  sayed 
Solon  :  and  what  was  his  name  ?  I  have  heard  him  named, 
sayed  the  straunger,  but  I  have  forgotten  him  nowe  :  saving 
that  they  all  sayed,  he  was  a  worthy  wise  man.  So  Solon 
still  trembling  more  and  more  for  feare,  at  every  aunswer  of 
this  straunger  :  in  the  ende  he  could  holde  no  longer,  being 
full  of  trouble,  but  tolde  his  name  him  selfe  unto  the 
straunger,  and  asked  him  againe,  if  he  were  not  the  sonne 
of  Solon  which  was  buried.  The  very  same,  sayed  the 
straunger.  Solon  with  that,  like  a  mad  man  straight  beganne 
to  beat  his  head,  and  to  saye,  and  doe,  like  men  impacient 
in  affliction,  and  overcome  with  sorowe.  But  Thales  laugh- 
212 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

ing  to  sec  this  pageant,  stayed  him,  and  saved  :    Loe,  Solon,     SOLON 
this  is  it  that  keepeth  me  from  marying,  and  getting  of 
children  :  which  is  of  such  a  violence,  that  thou  seest  it  hath 
nowe  overcome  thee,  although  otherwise  thou  arte  stronge, 
and  able  to  wrestle  Avith  any.     Howbeit  for  any  thing  he 
hath  saied  unto  thee,  be  of  good  cheere  man,  for  it  is  but  a 
tale,  and  nothing  so.     Hermippus  writeth,  that  Patsecus  (he 
which  sayed  he  had  Esops  sowle)  reciteth  this  story  thus. 
Nevertheles  it  lacketh  judgement,  and  the  corage  of  a  man 
also,  to  be  afrayed  to  get  things  necessarie,  fearing  the  losse  We  should 
of  them  :  for  by  this  reckoning,  he  should  neither  esteeme  not  let  to  g 
honour,  goodes,  nor  knowledge  when  he  hath  them,  for  feare  things  nece 
to  lose  them.     For  we  see  that  vertue  it  selfe,  which  is  the  +o"ose  the" 
greatest  and  sweetest  riches  a  man  can  have,  decayeth  oftimes 
through  sicknes,  or  els  by  phisicke,  and  potions.     Further- 
more Thales  selfe,  although   he  was  not  maried,  was  not 
therefore  free  from  this  feare,  onles  he  would  confesse  that 
he  neither  loved  friends,  kynsemen,  nor  countrie :  howbeit 
Thales  had  an  adopted  sonne,  called  Cybistus,  which  was  his  Cybistus 
sisters  sonne.     For  our  soule  having  in  it  a  naturall  inclina-  Thales  adoj 
tion  to  love,  and  being  borne  aswell  to  love,  as  to  feele,  to  ^^  sonne. 
reason,  or  understand,  and  to  remember :  having  nothing  of  The  instinc 
her  owne  whereupon  she  might  bestowe  that  naturall  love,  ^^  naturall 
boroweth  of  other.     As  where  there  is  a  house  or  inherit-    *'^^' 
aunce  without  la\\^ull  heires,  many  times  straungers,  and 
base  borne  children,  doe  creepe  into  the  kinde  affection  of 
the  owner,  and  when  they  have  once  wonne  and  possessed  his 
love,  they  make  him  ever  after  to  be  kynde  and  tender  over 
them.     So  that  ye  shall  see  many  times  men  of  such  a  hard 
and  rough  nature,  that  they  like  not  of  them  that  move  them 
to  marie,  and  get  lawful!  children :  and  yet  afterwardes  are 
ready  to  dye  for  feare  and    sorowe,  when    they   see   their 
bastardes  (that  they  have  gotten  of  their  slaves  or  concubines) 
fall  sicke  or  dye,  and  doe  utter  wordes  farre  unmeete  for 
men  of  noble  corage.     And  some  such  there  be,  that  for  the 
death  of  a  dogge,  or  their  horse,  are  so  out  of  harte,  and 
take  such  thought,  that  they  are  ready  to  goe  into  the 
grounde,  they  looke  so  pittiefully.     Other  some  are  cleane 
contrarie,  who  though  they  have  lost  their  children,  forgone 

213 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 


SOLON 


Proclamation 
upon  paine  of 
death  no  man 
to  move  the 
counsell  for 
the  title  of 
Salamina. 


Solon  fained 
madnes  to 
recover  Sala- 


Solons  Elegies 
of  the  Sala- 
minians. 


their  friendes,  or  some  gentleman  deare  unto  them,  yet  no 
sorowfull  worde  hath  commen  from  them,  neither  have  they 
done  any  unseemely  thing :  but  have  passed  the  rest  of  their 
life  like  wise,  constant,  and  vertuous  men.  For  it  is  not  love 
but  weaknes,  which  breedeth  these  extreme  sorowes,  and 
exceeding  feare,  in  men  that  are  not  exercised,  nor  acquainted 
to  fight  against  fortune  with  reason.  And  this  is  the  cause 
that  plucketh  from  them  the  pleasure  of  that  they  love  and 
desire,  by  reason  of  the  continual}  trouble,  feare  and  griefe 
they  feele,  by  thincking  howe  in  time  they  maye  be  deprived 
of  it.  Nowe  we  must  not  arme  ourselves  with  povertie, 
against  the  griefe  of  losse  of  goodes :  neither  with  lacke  of 
affection,  against  the  losse  of  our  friendes  :  neither  with  wante 
of  mariage,  against  the  death  of  children  :  but  we  must  be 
armed  with  reason  against  misfortunes.  Thus  have  we  suffi- 
ciently enlarged  this  matter.  The  Athenians  having  nowe 
susteined  a  long  and  troublesome  warre  against  the  Mega- 
rians,  for  the  possession  of  the  lie  of  Salamina :  were  in  the 
ende  wearie  of  it,  and  made  proclamation  straightly  com- 
maunding  upon  payne  of  death,  that  no  man  should  presume 
to  preferre  any  more  to  the  counsaill  of  the  cittie,  the  title 
or  question  of  the  possession  of  the  He  of  Salamina.  Solon 
could  not  beare  this  open  shame,  and  seeing  the  most  parte 
of  the  lustiest  youthes  desirous  still  of  warre  though  their 
tongues  were  tyed  for  feare  of  the  proclamation  :  he  fayned 
him  selfe  to  be  out  of  his  wittes,  and  caused  it  to  be  geven 
out  that  Solon  was  become  a  foole,  and  secretly  he  had  made 
certaine  lamentable  verses,  which  he  had  cunned  without 
booke,  to  singe  abroade  the  cittie.  So  one  daye  he  ranne 
sodainly  out  of  his  house  with  a  garland  on  his  head,  and 
gotte  him  to  the  market  place,  where  the  people  straight 
swarmed  like  bees  about  him  :  and  getting  him  up  upon  the 
stone  where  all  proclamations  are  usually  made,  out  he 
singeth  these  Elegies  he  had  made,  which  beganne  after  this 
sorte. 

r' 

I  here  present  my  selfe  (an  Heraulde)  in  this  case^ 

which  come  from  Salamina  lande,  that  noble  worthy  place. 

My  minde  in  pelting  prose^  shall  never  be  exprest, 
But  songe  in  verse  Heroycall,  for  so  I  thincke  it  best. 
214 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

This   Elegie   is  intituled   '  Salamina,'  and   conteineth   a     SOLON 
hundred  verses,  which  are  excellently  well  written.     And 
these  being  songe  openly  by  Solon  at  that  time,  his  friendes 
incontinently  praysed  them  beyond  measure,  and  specially 
Pisistratus :    and  they  went  about  persuading  the   people 
that  were  present,  to  credit  that  he  spake.     Hereupon  the 
matter  was  so  handled  amongest  them,  that  by  and  by  the 
proclamation  was  revoked,  and  they  beganne  to  followe  the 
warres  with  greater  furie  then  before,  appointing  Solon  to  be 
generall  in  the  same.     But  the  common  tale  and  reporte  is,  Of  the  tern] 
that  he  went  by  sea  with   Pisistratus  unto  the  temple  of  of  Venus 
Venus,  surnamed  Coliade :  where  he  founde  all  the  women  ^.^  t  f- V 
at  a  solemne  feast  and  sacrifice,  which  they  made  of  custome  ^nd"  Pausan 
to  the  goddesse.     He   taking  occasion  thereby,  sent  from  of  the  Athe 
thence  a  trusty  man  of  his  owne  unto  the  Megarians,  which  nians. 
then  had  Salamina :  whom  he  instructed  to  fayne  him  selfe  a 
revolted  traytour,  and  that  he  came  of  purpose  to  tell  them, 
that  if  they  would  but  goe  with  him,  they  might  take  all 
the  chief  ladyes  and  gentlewomen  of  Athens  on  a  sodaine. 
The  Megarians  easely  beleeved  him,  and  shipped  forthwith  Solonsstral 
certaine  souldiers  to  goe  with  him.      But  when  Solon  per-  geame. 
ceyved  the  shippe  under  sayle  comming  from  Salamina,  he 
commaunded  the  women  to  departe,  and  in  steade  of  them 
he  put  lusty  beardles  springalles  into  their  apparell,  and 
gave  them  litle  shorte  daggers  to  convey  under  their  clothes, 
commaunding  them   to   playe   and  daunce  together  upon 
the  sea  side,  untill  their  enemies  were  landed,  and  their 
shippe  at  anker :  and  so  it  came  to  passe.     For  the  Mega- 
rians  being    deceyved    by   that   they    sawe   a   farre   of,    as 
soone  as  ever   they    came  to  the  shore  side,  dyd  lande  in 
heapes,  one  in  anothers  necke,  even  for  greedines  to  take 
these  women :    but  not  a  man   of  them  escaped,  for   they 
were  slayne  every  mothers  sonne.     This  stratageame  being 
finely  handled,  and  to  good  effect,  the  Athenians  tooke  sea 
straight,   and    costed   over   to  the  He  of  Salamina :   which  Solon  wann 
they  tooke  upon  the  sodaine,  and  wanne  it  without  much  Salamina. 
resistaunce.     Other  saye  that    it  was  not  taken  after  this 
sorte:    but    that  Apollo    Delphicus   gave  Solon    first   such 
an  oracle. 

215 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

SOLON  Thou  shalt  first  winne  by  vowes  and  sacrifice, 

the  helpe  of  lordes  and  demy  goddes  full  bright : 
Of  whose  dead  bones,  the  dust  engraved  lies, 
in  westerne  soyle,  Asopia  that  hight. 

By  order  of  this  oracle,  he  one  night  passed  over  to  Sala- 
mina,  and  dyd  sacrifice  to  Periphemus,  and  to  Cichris,  demy 
goddes  of  the  countrie.  Which  done,  the  Athenians  de- 
livered him  five  hundred  men,  who  willingly  offered  them 
selves :  and  the  cittie  made  an  accorde  with  them,  that  if 
they  tooke  the  He  of  Salamina,  they  should  beare  greatest 
authoritie  in  the  common  weale.  Solon  imbarked  his 
souldiers  into  divers  fisher  botes,  and  appointed  a  galliot 
of  thirtie  owers  to  come  after  him,  and  he  ankred  hard  by 
the  cittie  of  Salamina,  under  the  ponite  which  looketh 
towards  the  He  of  Negrepont.  The  Megarians  which  were 
within  Salamina,  having  by  chaunce  heard  some  inckling  of 
it,  but  yet  knew  nothing  of  certaintie :  ranne  presently  in 
hurly  burley  to  arme  them,  and  manned  out  a  shippe  to 
descrie  what  it  was.  But  they  fondly  comming  within 
daunger,  were  taken  by  Solon,  who  clapped  the  Megarians 
under  hatches  fast  bounde,  and  in  their  roomes  put  aborde 
in  their  shippe  the  choycest  souldiers  he  had  of  the 
Athenians,  commaunding  them  to  set  their  course  direct 
upon  the  cittie,  and  to  keepe  them  selves  as  close  out  of 
sight  as  could  be.  And  he  him  self  with  all  the  rest  of  his 
souldiers  landed  presently,  and  marched  to  encounter  with 
the  Megarians,  which  were  come  out  into  the  fielde.  Now 
whilest  they  were  fighting  together,  Solons  men  whom  he 
had  sent  in  the  Megarians  shippe,  entred  the  haven,  and 
wanne  the  towne.  This  is  certainly  true,  and  testified  by  that 
which  is  shewed  yet  at  this  daye.  For  to  keepe  a  memoriall 
hereof,  a  shippe  of  Athens  arriveth  quietly  at  the  first,  and 
by  and  by  those  that  are  in  the  shippe  make  a  great  showte, 
and  a  man  armed  leaping  out  of  the  shippe,  ronneth  showt- 
ing  towardes  the  rocke  called  Sciradion,  which  is  as  they 
come  from  the  firme  lande :  and  harde  by  the  same  is  the 
temple  of  Mars,  which  Solon  built  there  after  he  had  over- 
come the  Megarians  in  battell,  from  whence  he  sent  backe 
againe  those  prisoners  that  he  had  taken  (which  were  saved 

216 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

from  the  slaughter  of  the  battell)  without^any  ransome  pay-     SOLON 
ing.     Nevertheles,  the  Megarians  were  sharpely  bent  still, 
to  recover  Salamina  again.     Much  hurte  being   done  and  Great  strife 
suffered  on  both  sides:    both  parts  in  the  ende  made  the  betwixt  the 
Lacedemonians  judges  of  the  quarrell.     But  upon  judge-      j^^^h"^-. 
ment  geven,  common  reporte  is,  that  Homers  authoritie  dyd  f^^^  Salamii 
Solon  good  service,  bicause  he  did  adde  these  verses  to  the 
number  of  shippes,  which  are  in  the  Iliades  of  Homer,  which 
he  rehearsed  before  the  judges,  as  if  they  had  bene  in  deede 
written  by  Homer. 

Ajax  that  champion  stowte,  did  leade  with  him  in  charge,  Iliad,  lib.  2 

twelve  shippes  from  Salamina  soyle,  which  he  had  left  at  large, 

and  even  those  selfe  same  shippes,  in  battell  did  he  cast 

and  place  in  order  for  to  fight,  with  enmies  force  at  last. 
In  that  same  very  place,  whereas  it  seemed  then 

the  captaines  which  from  Athens  came,  imbattelled  had  their  men. 

Howbeit  the  Athenians  selves  thinke,  it  was  but  a  tale  of 
pleasure :  and  saye  that  Solon  made  it  appeare  to  the  judges, 
that  Philasus,  and  Eurysaces  (both  Ajax  sonnes)  were  made 
free  denizens  of  Athens.  Whereupon  they  gave  the  He  of 
Salamina  unto  the  Athenians,  and  one  of  them  came  to 
dwell  in  a  place  called  Brauron,  in  the  country  of  Attica : 
and  the  other  in  a  towne  called  Melitum.  And  for  due 
proofe  thereof,  they  saye  there  is  yet  a  certen  canton  or 
quarter  of  the  countrie  of  Attica,  which  is  called  the  canton 
of  the  Philaeides,  after  the  name  of  this  Philaeus,  where 
Pisistratus  was  borne.  And  it  is  sayed  moreover,  that  Solon 
(bicause  he  would  throughly  convince  the  Megarians)  did 
alleage  that  the  Salaminians  buried  not  the  dead  after  the 
Megarians  manner,  but  after  the  Athenians  manner.  For  in 
Megara  they  burie  the  dead  with  their  faces  to  the  East :  The  mannt 
and  in  Athens  their  faces  are  towards  the  West.  Yet  of  burial  w 
Hereas  the  Megarian  denieth  it,  saying  that  the  Megarians  the  Megarii 
dyd  burie  them  also  with  their  faces  towards  the  West:  Athenians, 
alleaging  moreover,  that  at  Athens  everie  corse  had  his 
owne  beere  or  coffin  by  it  selfe,  and  that  at  Megara  they 
dyd  put  three  or  foure  corses  together.  They  saye  also 
there  were  certaine  oracles  of  Apollo  Pythias,  which  dyd 
greatly  helpe  Solon,  by  which  the  god  called  Salamina, 
2  E  217 


LIVES   OF   THE    NOBLE 

Ionia.  Their  strife  was  judged  by  five  Arbitrators,  all 
Spartans  borne  :  that  is  to  saje,  Critolaidas,  Amorapharetus, 
Hypsechidas,  Anaxilas,  and  Cleomenes.  Solon  undoutedly 
wonne  great  glory  and  honour  by  this  exployte,  yet  was  he 
much  more  honoured  and  esteemed,  for  the  oration  he  made 
in  defence  of  the  temple  of  Apollo,  in  the  cittie  of  Delphes : 
declaring  that  it  was  not  meete  to  be  suffered,  that  the 
'f  DelpheT  ^  Cyrrhaeians  should  at  their  pleasure  abuse  the  sanctuarie  of 
the  oracle,  and  that  they  should  ayde  the  Delphians  in 
honour  and  reverence  of  Apollo.  Whereupon  the  counsell 
of  the  Amphictyons,  being  moved  with  his  words  and  per- 
suasions, proclaimed  warres  against  the  Cyrrhaeians :  as  divers 
other  doe  witnesse,  and  specially  Aristotle,  in  the  storie  he 
wrote  of  those  that  wanne  the  Pythian  games,  where  he 
ascribeth  unto  Solon  the  honour  of  that  determination. 
Nevertheles  Hermippus  sayeth,  Solon  was  not  made  generall 
of  their  armie,  as  Evanthes  Samian  hath  written.  For 
jEschines  the  Orator  wrote  no  such  thing  of  him :  and  in 
the  chronicles  of  the  Delphians  they  finde,  that  one  Alcmaeon, 
and  not  Solon,  was  the  generall  of  the  Athenians.  Now  the 
cittie  of  Athens  had  a  long  time  bene  vexed  and  troubled 
through  Cylons  heynous  offence,  ever  sence  the  yere  that 
Megacles  (governour  of  the  cittie  of  Athens)  dyd  with  fayer 
words  handle  so  the  confederates  of  the  rebellion  of  Cylon, 
which  had  taken  sanctuarie  >vithin  the  liberties  oi  the  temple 
of  Minerva :  that  he  persuaded  them  to  be  wise,  and  to  pre- 
sent them  selves  before  the  judges,  holding  by  a  threede,  which  , 
they  should  tye  about  the  base  of  the  image  of  the  goddesse 
where  she  stoode,  bicause  they  should  not  lose  their  libertie. 
But  when  they  were  come  to  the  place  of  the  honorable 
goddesses  so  called  (which  be  the  images  of  the  furies)  comm- 
ing  downe  to  present  them  selves  before  the  judges,  the 
threede  brake  of  it  self.  Then  Megacles,  and  other  officers 
his  companions,  layed  holde  on  them  presently,  saying  that 
it  was  a  manifest  signe  that  the  goddesse  Miner\^a  refused 
to  save  them.  So  those  they  tooke,  and  all  they  could 
laye  hands  of,  were  immediately  stoned  to  death  without 
the  cittie  :  the  rest  which  tooke  the  altars  for  refuge,  were 
slaine  there  also.  And  none  were  saved,  but  such  as  had 
218 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

made  meanes  to  the  govemours  wives  of  the  citie,  to  intreate  SOLON 
for  them :  which  from  that  time  forth  were  ever  hated  of 
the  people,  and  commonly  called  the  abjects  and  excommuni- 
cates. Who  being  the  issues  of  the  rebelles  that  rose  with 
Cylon,  chaunced  to  rise  again  in  credit,  and  growing  to  great 
authoritie,  they  never  left  quarrelling  and  fighting  con- 
tinually with  th'  ofspring  of  Megacles.  These  factions  were 
greatest  and  highest  in  Solons  time  :  who  being  of  authoritie, 
and  seeing  the  people  thus  divided  in  two  partes,  he  stepped 
in  betweene  them,  with  the  chiefest  men  of  Athens,  and  did 
so  persuade  and  intreate  those  whom  they  called  the  abjects 
and  excommunicates,  that  they  were  contented  to  be  judged. 
So  three  hundred  of  the  chiefest  cittizens  were  chosen  judges 
to  heare  this  matter.  The  accuser  was  Myron  Phlyeian. 
This  matter  was  heard  and  pleaded,  and  by  sentence  of  the 
judges,  the  excommunicates  were  condemned.  Those  that 
were  alive,  to  pei-petuall  exile :  and  the  bones  of  them  that 
were  dead,  to  be  digged  up,  and  throwen  out  of  the  confines 
of  the  territorie  of  Athens.  But  whilest  the  cittie  of  Athens 
was  occupied  with  these  uprores,  the  Megarians  wisely  caught 
holde  of  the  occasion  delivered,  and  set  upon  the  Athenians, 
tooke  from  them  the  haven  of  Nysaea,  and  recovered  againe 
out  of  their  handes,  the  He  of  Salamina.  Furthermore,  all 
the  cittie  was  possessed  with  a  certen  superstitious  feare :  for 
some  sayed,  that  sprites  were  come  againe,  and  straunge 
sightes  were  scene.  The  prognosticatours  also  sayed,  they 
perceived  by  their  sacrifices,  the  cittie  was  defiled  with  some 
abhominable  and  wicked  things,  which  were  of  necessitie  to 
be  purged  and  throwen  out.  Hereupon  they  sent  into  Creta 
for  Epimenides  Phaestian,  whom  they  reckoned  the  seventh  Epimenides 
of  the  wise  men,  at  the  least  such  as  will  not  allowe  Peri-  Phaestus 
ander  for  one  of  the  number.  He  was  a  holy  and  devoute  man,  f^  t^^  ^ 
and  very  wise  in  celestiall  things,  by  inspiration  from  above :  excluding 
by  reason  whereof,  men  of  his  time  called  him  the  newe  Curetes,  Periander. 
that  is  to  save,  Prophet :  and  he  was  thought  the  sonne  of  a 
Nymphe  called  Balte.  When  he  was  come  to  Athens,  and 
growen  in  friendshippewith  Solon :  he  dyd  helpe  him  much, and 
made  his  waye  for  establishing  of  his  lawes.  For  he  acquainted 
the  Athenians  to  make  their  sacrifices  much  lighter,  and  of 

219 


sag 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

SOLON  lesse  coste:  and  brought  the  cittizens  to  be  more  moderate 
in  their  mourning,  with  cutting  of  certaine  severe  and  bar- 
barous ceremonies,  which  the  most  parte  of  the  women 
observed  in  their  mourning,  and  he  ordeined  certain  sacri- 
fices which  he  would  have  done  immediately  after  the  obse- 
quies of  the  dead.  But  that  which  exceeded  all  the  rest  was, 
that  by  using  the  cittizens  unto  holines  and  devotion,  daylie 
sacrifices,  prayers  unto  the  godds,  purging  of  them  selves, 
and  humble  offerings :  he  wanne  mens  hartes  by  litle  and 
litle,  to  yelde  them  more  confirmable  to  justice,  and  to  be 
more  inclined  to  concorde  and  unity.  It  is  reported  also 
that  Epimenides,  when  he  saw  the  haven  of  Munychia,  and 
had  long  considered  of  it :  told  those  about  him,  that  men 
were  very  blinde  in  foreseeing  things  to  come.  For  if  the 
Athenians  (sayed  he)  knew,  what  hurt  this  haven  would 
bring  them :  they  would  eate  it  (as  they  saye)  with  their 
teethe.  It  is  sayed  also  that  Thales  did  prognosticate  such 
a  like  thing,  who  after  his  deathe  commaunded  they  should 
burie  his  bodie,  in  some  vile  place  of  no  reckoning,  with  in 
the  territorie  of  the  Milesians,  saying  that  one  daye  there 
should  be  the  place  of  a  cittie.  Epimenides  therfore  being 
marvelously  esteemed  of  every  man  for  these  causes,  was 
greatly  honoured  of  the  Athenians,  and  they  offered  him 
great  presents  of  money  and  other  things,  but  he  would  take 
nothing,  and  only  prayed  them  to  geve  him  a  boughe  of  the 
holy  olyvc :  which  they  graunted  him,  and  so  he  returned 
Solon  pacified  shortely  home  into  Creta.  Nowe  that  this  sedition  of  Cylon 
t  Ath  ^^^^  utterly  appeased  in  Athens,  for  that  the  excommunicates 

were  banished  the  countrie  :  the  citty  fell  againe  into  their 
olde  troubles  and  dissentions  about  the  government  of  the 
common  weale :  and  they  were  devided  into  so  divers  partes 
and  factions,  as  there  were  people  of  sundry  places  and  terri- 
tories within  the  countrie  of  Attica.  For  there  were  the 
people  of  the  mountaines,  the  people  of  the  vallies,  and  the 
people  of  the  sea  coaste.  Those  of  the  mountaines,  tooke 
the  common  peoples  parte  for  their  lives.  Those  of  the 
valley,  would  a  fewe  of  the  best  cittizens  should  carie  the 
swaye.  The  coaste  men  would,  that  neither  of  them  should 
prevaile,  bicause  they  would  have  had  a  meane  government, 
'^  220 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

an(t  mingled  of  them  both.    Furthermore,  the  faction  betwene     S  O  L  O  f 
the  poore  and  riche,  proceeding  of  their  unequahtie,  was  at 
that  time  very  great.     By  reason  whereof  the  cittie  was  in 
great  daunger,  and  it  seemed  there  was  no  waye  to  pacific  or 
take  up  these  controversies,  unles  some  tyraunt  happened  to 
rise,  that  would  take  upon  him  to  rule  the  whole.     For  all 
the  common  people  were  so  sore  indetted  to  the  riche,  that  The  miseri 
either  they  plowed  their  landes,  and  yelded  them  the  sixt  o^  ^^}^)  ^^ 
parte  of  their  croppe :    (for  which   cause  they  were  called  ^^^"^• 
Hectemorii  and  servants)  or  els  they  borowed  money  of  them 
at  usurie,  upon  gage  of  their  bodies  to  serve  it  out.     And  if 
they  were  not  able  to  paye  them,  then  were  they  by  the  law 
delivered  to  their  creditours,  who  kept  them  as  bonde  men 
and  slaves  in  their  houses,  or  els  they  sent  them  into  straunge 
countries  to  be  sold  :  and  many  even  for  very  povertie  were 
forced  to  sell  their  owne  children  (for  there  was  no  lawe  to 
forbid  the    contrarie)   or   els   to   forsake   their    cittie   and 
countrie,  for  the  extreme  cruelty  and  hard  dealing  of  these 
abominable  usurers  their  creditours.     Insomuch  as  many  of 
the  lustiest  and  stowtest  of  them,  banded  together  in  com- 
panies, and  incoraged  one  another,  not  to  suiFer  and  beare 
any  lenger  such  extremitie,  but  to  choose  them  a  stowte  and 
trusty  captaine,  that  might  set  them  at  libertie,  and  redeeme 
those  out  of  captivity,  which  were  judged  to  be  bondmen 
and  servants,  for  lacke  of  paying  of  their  detts  at  their  dayes 
appointed  :  and  so  to  make  againe  a  newe  division  of  all 
landes  and  tenements,  and  wholy  to  chaimge  and  turne  up 
the  whole  state  and  government.     Then  the  wisest  men  of 
the  cittie,  who  sawe  Solon  only  neither  partner  with  the  Solons  eqi 
riche  in  their  oppression,  neither  partaker  with  the  poore  in  ^"*^  uprig} 
their  necessitie :  made  sute  to  him,  that  it  would  please  him  "^*'' 
to  take  the  matter  in  hande,  and  to  appease  and  pacific  all 
these  broyles  and  sedition.     Yet  Phanias  Lesbian  writeth, 
that  he  used  a  subtiltie,  whereby  he  deceived  both  the  one 
and  the  other  side,  concerning  the  common  weale.     For  he  Solon  by  s 
secretly  promised  the  poore  to  devidethe  lands  againe:  and  tiltiesetoi 
the  riche  also,  to  confirme  their  covenants  and  bargaines.     ^*^^-''*  * 
Howsoever  it  fell  out,  it  is  very  certain  that  Solon  from  the  ridi. 
beginning  made  it  a  great  matter,  and  was  very  scrupulous 

221 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 


SOLON 


Solon  chosen 
reformer  of 
the  lawe,  and 
chief  gover- 
nour. 


Solon  refus- 
eth  to  be  a 
tvranne. 


Tynnondas, 
and  Pittacus 
tyrannes. 

Solons 
aunswer  for 
tyranme. 


to  deale  betwene  them  :  fearing  the  covetousnes  of  the  one, 
and  arrogancie  of  the  other.  Howbeit  in  the  end  he  was 
chosen  governour  after  Philombrotus,  and  was  made  reformer 
of  the  rigour  of  the  lawes,  and  the  temperer  of  the  state  and 
common  weale,  by  consent  and  agreement  of  both  parties. 
The  rich  accepted  him,  bicause  he  was  no  begger :  the 
poore  did  also  like  him,  bicause  he  was  an  honest  man. 
They  saye  moreover,  that  one  word  and  sentence  which  he 
spake  (which  at  that  present  was  rife  in  every  mans  mouthe) 
that  equalitie  dyd  breede  no  stryfe :  did  aswell  please  the 
riche  and  wealthie,  as  the  poore  and  needie.  For  the  one 
sorte  conceyved  of  this  worde  equalitie,  that  he  would 
measure  all  things  according  to  the  qualitie  of  the  man  : 
and  the  other  tooke  it  for  their  purpose,  that  he  would 
measure  things  by  the  number,  and  by  the  polle  only.  Thus 
the  captaines  of  both  factions  persuaded  and  prayed  him, 
boldly  to  take  upon  him  that  soveraigne  authoritie,  sithence 
he  had  the  whole  cittie  nowe  at  his  commaundement.  The 
neawters  also  of  every  parte,  when  they  sawe  it  very  harde 
to  pacific  these  things  with  lawe  and  reason,  were  well  con- 
tent that  the  wisest,  and  honestest  man,  should  alone  have 
the  royall  power  in  his  handes.  Some  save  also  that  there 
was  such  an  oracle  of  Apollo. 

Sitt  thou  at  helme,  as  governour  to  steere 

to  guyde  our  course,  and  rule  the  rowling  shippe, 
for  thou  shalt  see,  full  many  Athenians  there, 
will  take  thy  parte,  and  after  thee  will  trippe. 

But  his  familier  friendes  above  all  rebuked  him,  saying  he 
was  to  be  accompted  no  better  then  a  beast,  if  for  fear  of 
the  name  of  tyranne,  he  would  refuse  to  take  upon  him  a 
Kingdome :  which  is  the  most  just  and  honorable  state,  if 
one  take  it  upon  him  that  is  an  honest  man.  As  in  the 
olde  time,  Tynnondas  made  him  selfe  King  of  those  of  Negre- 
pont,  with  their  consent :  and  as  Pittacus  was  then  presently 
of  those  of  Metelin.  Notwithstanding,  all  these  goodly 
reasons  could  not  make  him  once  alter  his  opinion.  And 
they  saye  he  aunswered  his  friendes,  that  principalitie  and 
tyrannic,  was  in  deede  a  goodly  place :  howbeit  there  was  no 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

way  for  a  man  to  get  out,  when  he  was  once  entered  into  it.     SOLON 
And  in  certen  verses  that  he  wrote  to  Phocus,  thus  he  sayed  : 

I  neither  bhishe,  nor  yet  repent  my  selfe, 

that  have  preservde,  my  native  soyle  allwayes^ 

and  that  therein  (to  hourde  up  trashe  and  pelfe) 

no  tyrants  thought,  could  once  eclypse  my  prayse. 
No  might  could  move,  my  minde  to  any  wronge, 

which  might  beblot,  the  glory  of  my  name  : 

for  so  I  thought,  to  live  in  honour  longe, 

and  farre  excell  all  other  men  for  fame. 

Hereby  ap])eareth  plainely,  that  even  before  he  was  chosen 
reformer  of  the  state,  to  stablish  newe  lawes  :  he  was  then  of 
great  coimtenaunce  and  authoritie.  But  he  him  selfe  writeth, 
that  many  sayed  of  him  thus,  after  he  had  refused  the  occa- 
sion of  usurping  of  this  tyrannic  : 

Suer,  Solon  was  a  foole,  and  of  a  bashefull  minde, 

that  would  refuse  the  great  good  happe,  which  goddes  to  him 
assignde. 
The  praye  was  in  his  handes,  yet  durst  he  never  drawe, 

the  net  therefore  :  but  stoode  abasht,  and  like  a  dastarde  dawe. 
For  had  not  that  so  bene,  he  would  (for  one  dayes  raigne, 

to  be  a  King  in  Athens  towne)  him  selfe  (all  quicke)  have  slayen. 
And  eke  subverted  quyte,  his  familie  withall. 

So  sweete  it  is  to  rule  the  roste,  yclad  in  princely  pall. 

Thus  brought  he  common  rumor  to  taber  on  his  head. 
Nowe,  notwithstanding  he  had  refused  the  kingdome,  yet  he 
waxed  nothing  the  more  remisse  nor  softe  therefore  in 
governing,  neither  would  he  bowe  for  feare  of  the  great,  nor 
yet  would  frame  his  lawes  to  their  liking,  that  had  chosen 
him  their  reformer.  For  where  the  mischief  was  toUerable, 
he  dyd  not  straight  plucke  it  up  by  the  rootes  :  neither  dyd 
he  so  chaunge  the  state,  as  he  might  have  done,  least  if  he 
should  have  attempted  to  turne  upsidowne  the  whole  govern- 
ment, he  might  afterwards  have  bene  never  able  to  settle  and 
stablishe  the  same  againe.  Therefore  he  only  altered  that, 
which  he  thought  by  reason  he  would  persuade  his  cittizens 
unto,  or  els  by  force  he  ought  to  compell  them  to  accept, 
mingling  as  he  saied,  sower  with  sweete,  and  force  with  Excellent 
justice.     And  herewith  agreeth  his  aunswer  that  he  made  temperature. 

S23 


SOLON 


Things  hate- 
full  made 
pleasaunt 
with  sweete 
worcles. 


Cleeriug  of 
detts,  Solous 
first  lawe. 

Usurie  for- 
bidden upon 
gage  of  the 
bodie. 

The  value  of 
money  cried 
up  by  Solon. 


LIVES    OF   THE   NOBLE 

afterwards,  unto  one  that  asked  him,  .if  he  had  made  the 
best  lawes  he  could  for  the  Athenians  ?  Yea  suer,  sayeth  he, 
such  as  they  were  to  receive.  And  this  that  followeth  also, 
they  have  ever  since  observed  in  the  Athenian  tongue :  to 
make  certen  things  pleasaunt,  that  be  hatefull,  finely  convey- 
ing them  under  culler  of  pleasing  names.  As  calling  whores, 
lemans  :  taxes,  contributions  :  garrisons,  gardes :  prisones, 
houses.  And  all  this  came  up  first  by  Solons  invention,  who 
called  cleering  of  detts,  Seisachtheian  in  English, '  discharge."* 
For  the  first  chaunge  and  reformation  he  made  in  govern- 
ment was  this  :  he  ordeined  that  all  manner  of  detts  past 
should  be  cleere,  and  no  bodye  should  aske  his  detter  any 
thing  for  the  time  past.  That  no  man  should  thenceforth 
lende  money  out  to  usurie,  upon  covenants  for  the  bodye  to 
be  bounde,  if  it  were  not  repayed.  Howbeit  some  write 
(as  Androtion  among  other)  that  the  poore  were  contented 
that  the  interest  only  for  usury  should  be  moderated,  without 
taking  away  the  whole  dett :  and  that  Solon  called  this  easie 
and  gentle  discharge,  Seisachtheian,  with  crying  up  the  value 
of  money.  For  he  raised  the  pound  of  silver,  being  before  but 
three  score  and  thirtene  Drachmes,  fidl  up  to  an  hundred  :  so 
they  which  were  to  paye  great  summes  of  money,  payed  by  tale 
as  much  as  they  ought,  but  with  lesse  number  of  peces,  then 
the  dett  could  have  bene  payed  when  it  was  borowed./  And 
so  the  detters  gayned  much,  and  the  creditours  lost  nothing. 
Nevertheles  the  more  parte  of  them  which  have  written  the 
same,  saye,  that  this  crying  up  of  money,  was  a  generall 
discharge  of  all  detts,  conditions,  and  covenaunts  upon  the 
same :  whereto  the  very  Poemes  them  selves,  which  Solon 
wrote,  doe  seeme  to  agree.  For  he  glorieth,  and  breaketh 
forth  in  his  verses,  that  he  had  taken  away  all  bawkes  and 
marcks,  that  separated  mens  lands  through  the  countrie  of 
Attica :  and  that  now  he  had  set  at  libertie,  that  which 
before  was  in  bondage.  And  that  of  the  cittizens  of  Athens, 
which  for  lacke  of  payment  of  their  detts  had  bene  con- 
demned for  slaves  to  their  creditours,  he  had  brought  many 
home  again  out  of  straunge  countries,  where  they  had  bene 
so  long,  that  they  had  forgotten  to  speake  their  naturall 
tongue :  and  other  which  remained  at  home  in  captivitie,  he 
224 


1 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

had  nowe  set  them  all  at  good  libertie.     But  while  he  was  a     SOLON 
doing  this,  men  saye  a  thing  thwarted  him,  that  troubled 
him  marvelously.     For  having  framed  an  Edict  for  clearing  Lawes  woul 
of  all  detts,  and  lacking  only  a  litle  to  grace  it  with  words,  be  kept  seer 
and  to  geve  it  some  prety  preface,  that  otherwise  was  ready  ^'^If-^^^i*^ 
to  be  proelaymed  :  he  opened  him  selfe  somewhat  to  certaine  P" 
of  his  famiiiers  whom  he  trusted  (as  Conon,  Clinias,  and 
Hipponicus)  and  tolde  them  how  he  would  not  medle  with 
landes  and  possessions,  but  would  only  cleere  and  cut  of  all 
manner  of  detts.     These  men  before  the  proclamation  came  111  con- 
out,  went  presently  to  the  money  men,  and  borowed  great  sciences  by 
summes  of  money  of  them,  and  layed  it  out  straight  upon  5'''^^*'  Pleven 
lande.     So  when  the  proclamation  came  out,  they  kept  the 
landes  they  had  purchased,  but  restored  not  the  money  they 
had  borowed.     This  fowle  parte  of  theirs  made  Solon  very 
ill  spoken  of,  and  wrongfully  blamed  :  as  if  he  had  not  only 
suffered  it,  but  had  bene  partaker  of  this  wrong,  and  injustice. 
Notwithstanding   he    cleared    him   self  of  this    slaunderous 
reporte,  losing  five  talents  by  his  owne  lawe.     For  it  was  well 
knowen  that  so  much  was  due  unto  him,  and  he  was  the  first 
that  following  his  owne  proclamation,  dyd  clearely  release  his  A  good  lawe 
detters  of  the  same.    Other  saye  he  was  owing  fifteene  talents:  maker,  begii 
and  among  the  same,  Polyzelus  the  Rhodian   is  one  that  ?^^*^  to_doe 
affirmeth  it.     Notwithstanding  they  ever  after  called  Solons  jj^^  ggj£g_ 
friendes  Greocopides^  '  cutters  of  detts.'     This  lawe  neither 
liked  the  one  nor  the  other  sorte.     For  it  greatly  offended 
the  riche,  for  cancelling  tlieir  bondes :  and  it  much  more 
misliked  the  poore,  bicause  all  landes  and  possessions  they 
gaped  for,  were  not  made  againe  common,  and  every  bodye 
a  like  riche  and  wealthie,  as  Lycurgus  had  made  the  Lace- 
daemonians.    But  Lvcurgus  was  the  eleventh  descended  of 
the  right  line  from  Hercules,  and  had  many  yeres  bene  king 
of  Lacedaemon,  where  he  had  gotten  great  authoritie,  and 
made  him  self  many  friends :  all  which  things  together,  dyd 
greatly   helpe  him  to   execute  that,   which  he  wisely  had 
imagined  for  the  order  of  his  common  weale.     Yet  also,  he 
used  more  persuasion  then  force,  a  good  witnes  thereof,  the 
losse  of  his  eye  :  preferring  a  lawe  before  his  private  injurie, 
which  hath  power  to  preserve  a  cittie  long  in  union  and 
•^  F  225 


LIVES   OF   THE    NOBLE 

SOLON  Concorde,  and  to  make  cittizens  to  be  neither  poore  nor  riche. 
Solon  could  not  attain  to  this,  for  he  was  born  in  a  popular 
state,  and  a  man  but  of  meane  wealth  :  Howbeit  he  did  what 
he  could  possible,  with  the  power  he  had,  as  one  seeking  to 
winne  no  credit  with  his  cittizens,  but  onely  by  his  counsaile. 
Now,  that  he  got  the  ill  will  of  the  more  parte  of  the  cittie, 
by  his  proclamation  which  he  made  :  he  him  self  doth  wit- 
nesse  it,  saying : 

Even  those  which  earst,  did  beare  me  frendly  face, 
and  spake  full  fayer,  where  ever  I  them  met : 
gan  nowe  beginne,  to  looke  full  grym  of  grace, 
and  were  (like  foes)  in  force  against  me  set. 

As  if  I  had  done  them,  some  spite  or  scorne, 
or  open  wronge,  which  were  not  to  be  borne. 

Nevertheles  he  sayeth  immediately  after,  that  with  the 
same  authoritie  and  power  he  had,  a  man  possibly 

Could  not  control!,  the  peoples  mindes  : 

nor  still  their  braynes,  which  wrought  like  windes. 

But  shortely  after,  having  a  feeling  of  the  benefit  of  his 
ordinaunce,  and  every  one  forgetting  his  private  quarrell : 
they  altogether  made  a  common  sacrifice,  which  they  called 
the  sacrifice  of  Seisachthia,  or  discharge,  and  chose  Solon 
Solons  abso-     generall  reformer  of  the  lawe,  and  of  the  whole  state  of  the 
lute  authority  common  weale,  without  limiting  his  power,  but  referred  all 
in  the  com-      matters  indifferently  to  his  will.     As  the  offices  of  state, 
mun  wea  e.       common  assemblies,  voyces  in  election,  judgements  in  justice, 
and  the  bodie  of  the  Senate.     And  they  gave  him  also  full 
power  and  authoritie,  to  sesse  and   taxe  any  of  them,  to 
appointe  the  number,  what  time  the  sesse  should  continewe, 
and  to  keepe,  confirme,  and  disanull  at  his  pleasure,  any  of 
Solon  tooke     the  auncient  lawes  and  customes  then  in  being.     To  beginne 
awaye  all  withall,  he  first  tooke  away  all  Dracons  bloudy  lawes,  saving 

racons  ^^^  murder,  and  manslaughter,  which  were  to  severe  and 

cruell.  For  almost  he  dyd  ordaine  but  one  kinde  of  punish- 
ment, for  all  kinde  of  faultes  and  offences,  which  was  death. 
So  that  they  which  were  condemned  for  idlenes,  were  judged 
to  dye.  And  pety  larceny,  as  robbing  mens  horteyards,  and 
gardens  of  fruite,  or  erbes,  was  as  severelv  punished  :  as  those 
226 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

who  had  committed  sacriledge  or  murder.     Demades  there-     SOLON 
fore  encountered  it  pleasauntiy,  when  he  sayed  :  that  Dracons 
lawes  were  not  written  with  incke,  but  with  bloud.  And  Draco 
him  selfe  being  asked  one  daye,  why  his  punishments  were 
so  unequal!,  as  death  for  all  kinde  of  faultes :  he  aunswered. 
Bicause  he  thought  the  least  offence  worthie  so  much  punish- 
ment :  and  for  the  greatest,  he  found  none  more  grievous. 
Then  Solon  being  desirous  to  have  the  chief  offices  of  the 
cittie  to  remaine  in  riche  mens  handes,  as  already  they  dyd, 
and  yet  to  mingle  the  authoritie  of  government  in  such  sorte, 
as  the  meaner  people  might  beare  a  litle  swaye,  which  they 
never  could  before :  he  made  an  estimate  of  the  goodes  of 
every  private  cittizen.     And  those  which  he  founde  yerely  Solon  rateth 
worthe  five  hundred  busshells  of  corne,  and  other  liquide  everie  cittizen 
fruites   and    upwards,   he  called  Pentacosiomedimnes :  as  to  **  ^  certen 
saye,  five  hundred  busshell  men  of  revenue.     And  those  that  ^""^"^®- 
had  three  hundred  busshells  a  yere,  and  were  able  to  keepe  a  -Pcn^<^co«jo- 
horse  of  service,  he  put  in  the  second  degree,  and  called  '"^  ^"'"'' 
them  knightes.     They  that  might  dispend  but  two  hundred 
busshells  a  yere,  were  put  in  the  thirde  place,  and  called 
ZeiLgites.     All  other  under  those,  were  called  Thetes^  as  ye  Zeugita:. 
would  saye,  hyerlings,  or  craftes  men  living  of  their  labour :  Thetes. 
whom  he  dyd  not  admit  to  beare  any  office  in  the  cittie, 
neither  were  they  taken  as  free  cittizens,  saving  they  had 
voyces  in  elections,  and  assemblies  of  the  cittie,  and  in  judge- 
ments, where  the  people  wholy  judged.      This  at  the  first 
seemed  nothing,  but  afterwardes  they  felt  it  was  to  great 
purpose :  for  hereby  the  most  parte  of  private  quarrells  and 
strifes  that  grewe  among  them,  were  in  the  ende  layed  open 
before  the  people.     For  he  suffered  those  to  appeale  unto 
the  people,  which  thought  they  had  wrong  judgement  in 
their' causes.     Furthermore,  bicause  his  lawes  were  written  The  darkues 
somewhat  obscurely,  and  might  be  diversely  taken  and  inter-  pf  the  lawe 
preted :    this  dyd  geve  a  great  deale  more  authoritie  and  increased,  the 
power  to  the  judges.     For,  considering  all  their  controversies  ^^g  iudVe  ^ 
could  not  be  ended,  and  judged  by  expresse  lawe  :  they  were 
driven  of  necessitie  allwayes  to  romie  to  the  judges,  and 
debated  their  matters  before  them.     In  so  muche  as  the 
judges  by  this  meanes  came  to  be  somewhat  above  the  lawe : 

227 


SOLON 


The  counsell 
of  the  Areo- 
pagites. 


3  Counsells 
erected  in 
Athens. 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

for  they  dyd  even  expounde  it  as  they  would  them  selves. 
Solon  self  doth  note  this  equall  division  of  the  publicke 
authoritie,  in  a  place  of  his  poesies,  where  he  sayeth : 

Suche  power  have  I  geven^  to  common  peoples  haude, 

as  might  become  their  meaue  estate,  with  equity  to  stande: 

and  as  I  have  not  pluct,  from  them  their  dignitie, 

so  have  I  not  to  much  increast,  their  small  authoritie.  / 

Unto  the  riche  likewise,  I  have  allowed  no  more, 

then  well  might  seeme  (in  just  conceit)  sufficient  for  their  store.  , 

And  so  I  have  for  both  provided  in  such  wise, 

that  neither  shall  eche  other  wrong,  nor  seeme  for  to  despise. 

Yet  considering  it  was  meete  to  provide  for  the  povertie 
of  the  common  sorte  of  people  :  he  suiFered  any  man  that 
would,  to  take  upon  him  the  defence,  of  any  poore  mans 
case  that  had  the  wrong.  For  if  a  man  were  hurte,  beaten, 
forced,  or  otherwise  wronged :  any  other  man  that  would, 
might  lawfully  sue  the  oftendour,  and  prosecute  lawe  against 
him.  And  this  was  a  wise  lawe  ordeined  of  him,  to  accus- 
tome  his  cittizens  to  be  sorie  one  for  anothers  hurte,  and  so 
to  feele  it,  as  if  any  parte  of  his  owne  bodie  had  bene  injured. 
And  they  saye  he  made  an  aunswer  on  a  time,  agreable  to 
this  law.  For,  being  asked  what  cittie  he  thought  best 
governed  :  he  aunswered.  That  cittie  where  such  as  receyve 
no  wronge,  doe  as  earnestly  defend  wrong  offered  to  other, 
as  the  very  wrong  and  injurie  had  bene  done  unto  them 
selves.  He  erected  also  the  counsaill  of  the  Areopagites,  of 
those  magistrates  of  the  cittie,  out  of  which  they  did  yerely 
choose  their  govemour :  and  he  him  self  had  bene  of  that 
number,  for  that  he  had  bene  govemour  for  a  yere.  Wher- 
fore  perceyving  now  the  people  were  growen  to  a  stomake, 
and  hawtines  of  minde,  bicause  they  were  cleare  discharged 
of  their  detts :  he  set  one  up  for  matters  of  state,  another 
counsell  of  an  hundred  chosen  out  of  every  tribe,  whereof 
foure  hundred  of  them  were  to  consult  and  debate  of  all 
matters,  before  they  were  propounded  to  the  people :  that 
when  the  great  counsell  of  the  people  at  large  should  be 
assembled,  no  matters  should  be  put  forth,  onles  it  had 
bene  before  well  considered  of,  and  digested,  by  the  counsell 
of  the  foure  hundred.      INIoreover,  he  ordeined  the  higher 

228 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

courte  should  have  the  chiefe  authoritie  and  power  over  all  SOLON 
things,  and  chiefly  to  see  the  lawe  executed  and  mainteined : 
supposing  that  the  common  weale  being  settled,  and  stayed 
with  these  two  courtes  (as  with  two  stronge  anker  holdes) 
it  should  be  the  lesse  turmoyled  and  troubled,  and  the 
people  also  better  pacified  and  quieted.  The  most  parte  of 
writers  holde  this  opinion,  that  it  was  Solon  which  erected 
the  counsaill  of  the  A.eopagites,  as  we  have  sayed,  and  it  is 
very  likely  to  be  true,  for  that  Dracon  in  all  his  lawes  and 
ordinaunces  made  no  manner  of  mention  of  the  Areopagites, 
but  allwayes  speaketh  to  the  Ephetes  (which  were  judges  of 
life  and  death)  when  he  spake  of  murder,  or  of  any  mans 
death.  Notwithstanding,  the  eight  law  of  the  thirtenth 
table  of  Solon  sayeth  thus,  in  these  very  words  :  All  such  as  Other  lawes 
have  bene  banished  or  detected  of  naughty  life,  before  Solon  ^^  Solou. 
made  his  laws,  shalbe  restored  againe  to  their  goodes  and 
good  name,  except  those  which  were  condemned  by  order  of 
the  counsaill  of  the  Areopagites,  or  by  the  Ephetes,  or  by 
the  Kings  in  open  courte,  for  murder,  and  death  of  any  man, 
or  for  aspiring  to  usurpe  tyrannic.  These  wordes  to  the 
contrarie,  seeme  to  prove  and  testifie,  that  the  counsell  of 
the  Areopagites  was,  before  Solon  was  chosen  reformer  of 
the  lawes.  For  howe  could  offenders  and  wicked  men  be 
condemned,  by  order  of  the  counsell  of  the  Areopagites 
before  Solon,  if  Solon  was  the  first  that  gave  it  authoritie 
to  judge  ?  onles  a  man  will  saye  peradventure,  that  he  would 
a  litle  lielpe  the  matter  of  his  lawes  which  were  obscure  and 
darke,  and  would  supply  that  they  lacked,  with  expounding 
of  the  same  by  them.  Those  which  shalbe  founde  attainted 
and  convicted  of  any  matter,  that  hath  bene  heard  before 
the  counsaill  of  the  Areopagites,  the  Ephetes,  or  the  gover- 
nours  of  the  cittie  when  this  lawe  shall  come  forth  :  shall 
stand  condemned  still,  and  all  other  shalbe  pardoned, 
restored,  and  set  at  libertie.  Howsoever  it  is,  sure  that 
was  his  intent  and  meaning.  Furthermore  amongest  the 
rest  of  his  lawes,  one  of  them  in  deede  was  of  his  o^vne 
devise  :  for  the  like  was  never  stablished  els  where.  And  it 
is  that  lawe,  that  pronounceth  him  defamed,  and  unhonest,  Alaweagains 
who  in  a  civill  uprore  among  the  cittizens,  sitteth  still  a  "eawters. 

229 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

SOLON  looker  on,  and  a  neawter,  and  taketh  parte  with  neither  side. 
Whereby  his  minde  was  as  it  should  appeare,  that  private 
men  should  not  be  only  carefull  to  put  them  selves  and  their 
causes  in  safety,  nor  yet  should  be  careles  for  other  mens 
matters,  or  thineke  it  a  vertue  not  to  medle  with  the  miseries 
and  misfortunes  of  their  countrie,  but  from  the  beginning  of 
every  sedition  that  they  should  joyne  with  those  that  take 
the  j  ustest  cause  in  hande,  and  rather  to  hazarde  them  selves 
with  such,  then  to  tarie  looking  (without  putting  them  selves 
in  daunger)  which  of  the  two  should  have  the  victorie. 
An  acte  for  There  is  another  lawe  also,  which  at  the  first  sight  me 
matchingwith  thinketh  is  very  unhonest  and  fond.  That  if  any  man 
inheritours.  according  to  the  lawe  hath  matched  with  a  riche  heire  and 
inheritour,  and  of  him  selfe  is  nnpotent,  and  unable  to  doe 
the  office  of  a  husband,  she  maye  lawfully  lye  with  any  whom 
she  liketh,  of  her  husbands  nearest  kinsemen,  Howbeit  some 
affirme,  that  it  is  a  wise  ma^e  lawe  for  those,  which  knowing 
them  selves  unmeete  to  entertaine  wedlocke,  will  for  covet- 
ousnes  of  landes,  marye  with  riche  heires  and  possessioners, 
and  minde  to  abuse  poore  gentlewomen  under  the  colour  of 
lawe  :  and  will  thineke  to  force  and  restraine  nature.  For, 
seeing  the  lawe  sufferefh  an  inheritour  or  possessioner  thus 
ill  bestowed,  at  her  pleasure  to  be  bolde  with  any  of  her 
husbands  kynne :  men  will  either  leave  to  purchase  such 
manages,  or  if  they  be  so  careles  that  they  will  nedes  marye, 
it  shalbe  to  their  extreme  shame  and  ignominie,  and  so  shall 
they  deservedly  paye  for  their  greedy  covetousnes.  And  the 
lawe  is  well  made  also,  bicause  the  wife  hath  not  scope  to  all 
her  husbands  kynsemen,  but  unto  one  choyce  man  whom  she 
liketh  best  of  his  house :  to  the  ende  that  the  children  that 
shalbe  borne,  shalbe  atg^e  least  of  her  husbands  bloude  and 
kynred.  This  also^confirmeth  the  same,  that  such  a  newe 
maryed  wife  should%i»  shut  up  with  her  husband,  and  eate 
a  quince  with  him :  and  t^t  he  also  which  maryeth  such  an 
inheritour,  should  of  duety  see  her  thryse  a  moneth  at  the 
least.  For  although  he  get  no  children  of  her,  yet  it  is  an 
honour  the  husband  doth  to  his  wife,  arguing  that  he  taketh 
her  for  an  honest  woman,  that  he  loveth  her,  and  that  he 
esteemeth  of  her.  Besides,  it  taketh  awaye  many  mislikings 
230 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

and  displeasures  which  oftentimes  happen  in  such  cases,  and     SOLON 

keepeth  love  and  good  will  waking,  that  it  dye  not  utterly 

betweene  them.     Furthermore,  he  tooke  awaye  all  joynters  Solon  forbid- 

and  dowries  in  other  manages,  and  willed  that  the  wives  deth  jointers 

should  bring  their  husbands  but  three  gownes  only,  with  ^^     ownes. 

some  other  litle  moveables  of  small  value,  and  without  any 

other  thing  as  it  were :  utterly  forbidding  that  they  should 

buye  their  husbands,  or  that  they  should  make  marchaundise 

of  manages,  as  of  other  trades  to  gaine,  but  would  that  man 

and  woman  should  marye  together  for  issue,  for  pleasure, 

and  for  love,  but  in  no  case  for  money.     And  for  proofe 

hereof,  Dionysius  the  tyranne  of  Sicile,  one  daye  aunswered  Dionysius 

his  mother  (which  would  needes  be  maried  to  a  young  man  saying  of 

of  Syracusa)  in  this  sorte.      I  have  power  (saieth   he)  to  "^''"^®^- 

breake  the  lawes  of  Syracusa,  by  having  the  Kingdome  :  but 

to  force  the  law  of  nature,  or  to  make  mariage  without  the 

reasonable  compasse  of  age,  that  passeth   my  reache  and 

power.     So  is  it  not  tolerable,  and  much  lesse  allowable  also, 

that  such  disorder  should  be  in  well  ordered  citties,  that  such 

uncomely  and  unfit  manages  should  be  made,  betweene  copies 

of  so   unequall  yeres  :    considering  there  is  no  meete  nor 

necessary  ende  of  such  matches.    A  wise  governour  of  a  cittie, 

or  a  judge  and  reformer  of  lawes  and  manners,  might  well 

saye  to  an  olde  man  that  should  marye  with  a  young  mayde, 

as  the  Poet  sayeth  of  Philoctetes  : 

Ah  seely  wretche,  how  trymme  a  man  arte  thou, 
at  these  young  yeres,  for  to  be  maryed  nowe  ? 

And  finding  a  young  man  in  an  olde  riche  womans  house, 
getting  his  living  by  riding  of  her  errants,  and  waxing  fat 
as  they  saye  the  partridge  doth  by  fading  of  the  hennes  : 
he  maye  take  him  from  thence,  to  bestowe  him  on  some 
young  mayde  that  shall  have  neede  fwa.  husband.     And 
thus  much  for  this   matter.      Bil^they  greatly  commend 
another  lawe  of  Solons,  which  forbiddeth  to  speake  ill  of  A  law  forbid- 
the  dead.     For  it  is  a  good  and  godly  thing  to  thinke,  that  ding  to  speake 
they  ought  not  to  touche  the  dead,  no  more  than  to  touche  ^^'^H  ^^  ^^^ 
holy  things:  and  men  should  take  great  heede  to  offende 
those  that  are  departed  out  of  this  world,  besides  it  is  a 

J231 


LIVES    OF  THE   NOBLE 


SOLON 


♦Drachmae. 


A  lawe  for 
willes  and 
testaments. 


A  lawe  for 
womens  going 
abroade. 


token  of  wisedome  and  civillitie,  to  beware  of  immortall 
enemies.  He  commaunded  also  in  the  selfe  same  lawe,  that 
no  man  should  speake  ill  of  the  living,  specially  in  Churches, 
during  divine  service,  or  in  counsaill  chamber  of  the  cittie, 
nor  in  the  Theaters  whilest  games  were  a  playing  :  upon 
payne  of  three  silver  *Drachmes  to  be  payed  to  him  that  was 
injured,  and  two  to  the  common  treasurie.  For  he  thought 
it  to  much  shameles  boldnes,  in  no  place  to  keepe  in  ones 
choller,  and  moreover,  that  such  lacked  civillitie  and  good 
manners  :  and  yet  altogether  to  suppresse  and  smother  it,  he 
knewe  it  was  not  only  a  harde  matter,  but  to  some  natures 
unpossible.  And  he  that  maketh  lawes,  must  have  regarde 
to  the  common  possibilitie  of  men,  if  he  will  punishe  litle, 
with  profitable  example,  and  not  much  without  some  profit. 
So  was  he  marvelously  well  thought  of,  for  the  lawe  that  he 
made  touching  willes  and  testaments.  For  before,  men  might 
not  lawfully  make  their  heires  whom  they  would,  but  the 
goodes  came  to  the  children  or  kynred  of  the  testatour.  But 
he  leaving  it  at  libertie,  to  dispose  their  goods  where  they 
thought  good,  so  they  had  no  children  of  their  owne :  dyd 
therein  preferre  friendship  before  kynred,  and  good  will  and 
favour  before  necessitie  and  constrainte,  and  so  made  every 
one  lorde  and  master  of  his  owne  goodes.  Yet  he  dyd  hot 
simply  and  a  like  allowe  all  sortes  of  giftes,  howsoever  they 
were  made :  but  those  only  which  were  made  by  men  of 
sound  memorie,  or  by  those  whose  wittes  fayled  them  not  by 
extreme  sicknes,  or  through  drincks,  medicines,  poysonings, 
charmes,  or  other  such  violence  and  extraordinarie  meanes, 
neither  yet  through  the  intisements  and  persuasions  of 
women.  As  thincking  very  wisely,  there  was  no  difference 
at  all  betweene  those  that  were  evidently  forced  by  constraint, 
and  those  that  were  compassed  and  wrought  by  subornation 
at  length  to  doe  a  thing  against  their  will,  taking  fraude  in 
this  case  equall  with  violence,  and  pleasure  with  sorowe,  as 
passions  with  madnes,  which  commonly  have  as  much  force 
the  one  as  the  other,  to  drawe  and  drive  men  from  reason. 
He  made  another  lawe  also,  in  which  he  appointed  women 
their  times  to  goe  abroade  into  the  fieldes,  their  mourning, 
their  feastes  and  sacrifices,  plucking  from  them  all  disorder 
g32 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

and  wilfull  libertie,  which  they  used  before.  For  he  dyd  SOLON 
forbid  that  they  should  carie  out  of  the  cittie  with  them 
above  three  gownes,  and  to  take  vittells  with  them  above  the 
value  of  an  halfe  pennie,  neither  basket  nor  pannier  above  a 
cubite  highe :  and  specially  he  dyd  forbid  them  to  goe  in 
the  night,  other  then  in  their  coche,  and  that  a  torche  should 
be  caried  before  them.  He  dyd  forbid  them  also  at  the 
buriall  of  the  dead,  to  teare  and  spoyle  them  selves  with 
blowes,  to  make  lamentations  in  verses,  to  weepe  at  the 
funeralles  of  a  straunger  not  being  their  kinseman,  to  sacri- 
fice an  oxe  on  the  grave  of  the  dead,  to  burie  above  three 
gownes  with  the  corse,  to  goe  to  other  mens  graves,  but  at 
the  very  time  of  burying  the  corse :  all  which  or  the  most 
parte  of  them,  are  forbidden  by  our  lawes  at  this  daye. 
Moreover,  those  lawes  appointe  a  penaltie  upon  such  women 
as  oifend  in  the  same,  to  be  distrayned  for,  by  certaine  officers 
expressely  named,  to  controll  and  reforme  the  abuses  of 
women,  as  womanish  persones  and  faynte  harted,  which 
suffer  them  selves  to  be  overcome  with  such  passions  and 
fondnes  in  their  mourning.  And  perceyving  that  the  cittie 
of  Athens  beganne  to  replenish  daylie  more  and  more,  by 
mens  repayring  thither  from  all  partes,  and  by  reason  of  the 
great  assured  safetie,  and  libertie  that  they  founde  there : 
and  also  considering  howe  the  greatest  parte  of  the  Realme 
became  in  manner  heathy,  and  was  very  barren,  and  that 
men  traffeking  the  seas,  are  not  wonte  to  bring  any  mar- 
chaundise  to  those,  which  can  geve  them  nothing  againe  in 
exchaunge :  he  beganne  to  practise  that  his  cittizens  should 
give  them  selves  unto  craftes  and  occupations,  and  made  a  Craftes  and 
lawe,  that  the  sonne  should  not  be  bounde  to  relieve  his  occupations 
father  being  olde,  onles  he  had  set  him  in  his  youth  to  ^  v*""ce  . 
some  occupation.  It  was  a  wise  parte  of  Lycurgus  (who 
dwelt  in  a  cittie  where  was  no  resorte  of  straungers,  and  had 
so  great  a  territorie  as  could  have  furnished  twise  as  many 
people,  as  Euripides  sayeth,  and  moreover  on  all  sides  was 
environned  with  a  great  number  of  slaves  of  the  Ilotes,  whom 
it  was  needefuU  to  keepe  still  in  labour  and  worcke  con- 
tinually) to  have  his  cittizens  allwayes  occupied  in  exercises 
of  feates  of  armes,  without  making  them  to  learne  any  other 
2G  233 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 


Theauthoritie 
of  the  courte 
and  couusaile 
of  the  Areo- 
pagites. 


SOLON  science,  but  discharged  them  of  all  other  miserable  occupa- 
tions and  handy  craftes.  But  Solon  framing  his  lawes  unto 
things,  and  not  things  unto  lawes,  when  he  sawe  the  countrie 
of  Attica  so  leane  and  barren,  that  it  could  hardely  bring 
forth  to  susteine  those  that  tilled  the  grounde  only,  and 
therefore  much  more  impossible  to  keepe  so  great  a  multi- 
tude of  idle  people  as  were  in  Athens :  thought  it  very 
requisite  to  set  up  occupations,  and  to  geve  them  counte- 
naunce  and  estimation.  Therefore  he  ordeined,  that  the 
counsaill  of  the  Areopagites,  should  have  full  power,  and 
authoritie  to  enquier  how  every  man  lived  in  the  cittie,  and 
also  to  punishe  such  as  they  found  idle  people,  and  dyd 
not  labour.  But  this  was  thought  to  severe  and  straight  a 
lawe  which  he  ordeined  (as  Heraclides  Ponticus  writeth) 
that  the  children  borne  of  common  harlotts  and  strumpets 
should  not  be  bounde  to  relieve  their  fathers.  For  he  that 
maketh  no  accompt  of  matrimonie,  plainely  sheweth  that  he 
tooke  not  a  wife  to  have  children,  but  only  to  satisfie  his 
lust  and  pleasure  :  and  so  such  an  one  hath  his  just  reward, 
and  is  disapointed  of  the  reverence  that  a  father  ought  to 
have  of  his  children,  since  through  his  owne  faulte  the  birth 
of  his  childe  falleth  out  to  his  reproche.  Yet  to  saye  truely, 
in  Solons  laws  touching  women,  there  are  many  obsurdities, 
as  they  fall  out  ill  favoredly.  For  he  maketh  it  lawfuU  for 
any  man  to  kill  an  adulterer  taking  him  with  the  facte. 
But  he  that  ravisheth  or  forcibly  taketh  awaye  a  free  woman, 
♦Drachmae.  is  only  condemned  to  paye  a  hundred  silver  *drachmes.  And 
he  that  was  the  Pandor  to  procure  her,  should  only  paye 
twenty  drachmes.  Onles  she  had  bene  a  common  strumpet 
or  curtisan :  for  such  doe  justefy  open  accesse,  to  all  that 
will  hier  them.  /  Furthermore,  he  doth  forbid  any  persone 
to  sell  his  daughters  or  sisters,  onles  the  father  or  brother 
had  taken  them,  abusing  them  selves  before  mariage.  Me 
thincketh  it  is  farre  from  purpose  and  reason,  with  severitie 
to  punish  a  thing  in  one  place,  and  over  lightly  to  passe  it 
over  in  another :  or  to  set  some  light  fine  on  ones  head  for 
a  great  faulte,  and  after  to  discharge  him,  as  it  were  but  a 
matter  of  sporte.  Onles  they  will  excuse  it  thus,  that  money 
being  very  harde  and  scante  at  that  time  in  Athens,  those 
234 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

fines  were  then  very  great  and  grievous  to  paye.  For  in  SOLON 
setting  out  the  charges  of  offerings  which  should  be  made 
in  sacrifices,  he  appointed  a  weather  to  be  a  convenient 
offering,  and  he  setteth  a  busshell  of  corne  at  a  silver 
drachme.  More  he  ordeined,  that  they  which  wonne  any  of 
the  games  at  Athens,  should  paye  to  the  common  treasuric 
an  hundred  drachmes.  And  those  that  wonne  any  of  the 
games  Oli/mpkall,  five  hundred  drachmes.  Also  he  ap- 
pointed that  he  which  brought  a  he  woulfe,  should  have  five 
drachmes,  and  him  one  drachme  for  reward  of  a  she  woulfe. 
Whereof  as  Demetrius  Phalerian  writeth  :  the  one  was  the 
price  of  an  oxe,  and  the  other  of  a  mutton.  For,  touching 
the  rates  he  ordeined  in  the  sixtenth  table  of  his  lawes 
mete  for  burnt  sacrifices,  it  is  likely  he  dyd  rate  them  at  a 
much  higher  price,  then  ordinarilie  they  were  worth :  and 
yet  notwithstanding,  the  price  which  he  setteth,  is  very  litle 
in  comparison  of  that  which  they  are  worth  at  this  daye. 
Nowe  it  was  a  custome  ever  amongest  the  Athenians  to  kill 
their  woulfes,  bicause  all  their  countrie  laye  for  pasture,  and 
not  for  tillage.  Some  there  be  that  saye,  the  tribes  of  the  The  tribes  of 
people  of  Athens  have  not  bene  called  after  the  names  of  ^^^  Athenians 
the  children  of  Ion,  as  the  common  opinion  hath  bene :  but  |j,°^^  u^A 
that  they  were  called  after  their  divers  trades  and  manners  of 
living,  which  they  tooke  them  selves  unto  from  the  beginning. 
For,  such  as  gave  them  selves  unto  the  warres,  were  called 
Oplites :  as  who  would  saye,  men  of  armes.  Those  that 
wrought  in  their  occupations,  were  called  Ergades :  as  much 
to  saye,  as  men  of  occupation.  The  other  two  which  were 
husbandmen,  and  followed  the  plough,  were  called  Teleontes : 
as  you  would  saye,  labouring  men.  And  those  that  kept 
beastes  and  cattell,  were  called  jEgicores :  as  much  to  saye, 
as  heard  men.-  Nowe,  forasmuch  as  the  whole  province  of 
Attica  was  very  drye,  and  had  great  lacke  of  water,  being 
not  full  of  rivers,  ronning  streames,  nor  lakes,  nor  yet  stored 
with  any  great  number  of  springs,  insomuch  as  they  are 
driven  there  to  use  (through  the  most  parte  of  the  countrie) 
water  drawen  out  of  welles  made  with  mens  handes  :  he  made  An  acte  for 
such  an  order,  that  where  there  was  any  well  within  the  relies, 
space  of  an  Hippicon,  that  every  bodye  within  that  circuite, 

235 


m 


An  acte  for 
planting  and 
setting  of 
trees. 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

SOLON  might  come  and  drawe  water  onely  at  that  well,  for  his  use 
and  necessitie.  Hippicon  is  the  distaunce  of  foure  furlonges, 
which  is  halfe  a  mile :  and  those  that  dwelt  further  of, 
should  goe  seeke  their  water  in  other  places  where  they 
would.  But  if  they  had  digged  tenne  yardes  deepe  in  their 
grounde,  and  could  finde  no  water  in  the  bottome,  in  this 
case,  they  might  lawfully  goe  to  their  next  neighbours  well, 
and  take  a  pot  full  of  water  conteining  six  gallons,  twise  a 
daye:  judging  it  great  reason  that  necessitie  should  be  holpen, 
but  not  that  idlenes  should  be  cherished.  He  appointed 
also  the  spaces  that  should  be  kept  and  observed  Isy  those, 
that  would  set  or  plant  trees  in  their  ground,  as  being  a 
man  very  skilfull  in  these  matters.  For  he  ordeined,  that 
whosoever  would  plante  any  kynde  of  trees  in  his  grounde, 
he  should  set  them  five  foote  a  sonder  one  from  another : 
but  for  the  figge  tree  and  olyve  tree  specially,  that  they 
should  in  any  case  be  nine  foote  a  sonder,  bicause  these  two 
trees  doe  spread  out  their  branches  farre  of,  and  they  cannot 
stand  neere  other  trees,  but  they  must  needes  hurte  them  very 
much.  For  besides  that  they  drawe  awaye  the  same  that 
doth  nourishe  the  other  trees,  they  cast  also  a  certaine 
moisture  and  steame  upon  them,  that  is  very  hurtefull  and 
incommodious.  More  he  ordeined,  that  whosoever  would 
digge  a  pytte  or  hole  in  his  grounde,  he  should  digge  it  as 
farre  of  from  his  neighbours  pyt,  as  the  pytte  he  digged  was 
■^  in  depth  to  the  bottome.     And  he  that  would  set  up  a  hive 

of  bees  in  his  grounde,  he  should  set  them  at  the  least  three 
hundred  foote  from  other  hives  set  about  him  before.  And 
of  the  fruites  of  the  earth,  he  was  contented  they  should 
transporte  and  sell  only  oyle  out  of  the  Realme  to  straungers, 
but  no  other  fruite  or  graine.  He  ordeined  that  the 
governour  of  the  cittie  should  yerely  proclaime  open  curses 
against  those  that  should  doe  to  the  contrarie,  or  els  he  him 
selfe  making  default  therein,  should  be  fined  at  a  hundred 
Drachmae.  drachmes.  This  ordinaunce  is  in  the  first  table  of  Solon 
lawes,  and  therefore  we  maye  not  altogether  discredit  those 
which  saye,  they  did  forbid  in  the  olde  time  that  men  should 
carie  figges  out  of  the  countrie  of  Attica,  and  that  from  thence 
it  came  that  these  picke  thanckes,  which  bewraye  and  accuse 
236 


GRECIANS    AND    ROiMANES 

them  that  transported  figges,  were  called  Sijcophantcs.  He  SOLON 
made  another  lawe  also  against  the  hurte  that  beastes  might 
doe  unto  men.  Wherein  he  ordeined,  that  if  a  dogge  did 
bite  any  man,  he  that  ought  him  should  deliver  to  him  that 
was  bitten,  his  dogge  tyed  to  a  logge  of  timber  of  foure 
cu bites  longe :  and  this  was  a  very  good  devise,  to  make  men 
safe  from  dogges.  But  he  was  very  straight  in  one  lawe  he 
made,  that  no  straunger  might  be  made  denizen  and  free 
man  of  the  cittie  of  Athens,  onles  he  were  a  banished  man 
for  ever  out  of  his  countrie,  or  els  that  he  should  come  and 
dwell  there  with  all  his  familie,  to  exercise  some  crafte  or 
science.  Notwithstanding,  they  saye  he  made  not  this  lawe 
so  much  to  put  straungers  from  there  freedome  there,  as  to 
drawe  them  thither,  assuring  them  by  this  ordinaunce,  they 
might  come  and  be  free  of  the  cittie :  and  he  thought  more- 
over,  that  both  the  one  and  the  other  would  be  more  faith- 
full  to  the  common  weale  of  Athens.  The  one  of  them,  for 
that  against  their  willes  they  were  driven  to  forsake  their 
countrie  :  and  the  other  sorte,  for  that  advisedly  and  willingly 
they  were  contented  to  forsake  it.  This  also  was  another  of 
Solons  lawes,  which  he  ordeined  for  those  that  should  feast 
certen  dayes  at  the  towne  house  of  the  cittie,  at  other  mens  Feasts  for 
cost.  For  he  would  not  allow,  that  one  man  should  come  tonnes  men 
often  to  feasts  there.  And  if  any  man  were  invited  thither  i,"i|  f^th°^ 
to  the  feast,  and  dyd  refuse  to  come  :  he  dyd  set  a  fine  on 
his  head,  as  reproving  the  miserable  niggardlines  of  the  one, 
and  the  presumptuous  arrogancy  of  the  other,  to  contemne 
and  despise  common  order.  After  he  had  made  his  lawes, 
he  dyd  stablishe  them  to  continewe  for  the  space  of  one 
hundred  yeres,  and  they  were  ^vritten  in  tables  of  wood 
called  Axones^  which  were  made  more  long  then  broade,  in  Axones. 
the  which  they  were  graven :  whereof  there  remaine  some 
monuments  yet  in  our  time,  which  are  to  be  scene  in  the 
towne  hall  of  the  cittie  of  Athens.  Aristotle  sayeth,  that 
these  tables  were  called  Cyrhes.  And  Cratinus  also  the  Cyrbes. 
Comicall  poet  sayeth  in  one  place,  of  Solon  and  Dracon : 
that  Cyrbes  was  a  vessell  or  panne  wherein  they  dyd  frye 
millet  or  hirse.  Howbeit  others  saye,  that  Cyrhes  properly 
were  the  tables,    which  conteined   the   ordinaunces  of  the 

237 


LIVES    OF   THE   NOBLE 

SOLON      sacrifices  :  and  Axones  were  the  other  tables,  that  concerned 
the  common  weale.     So,  all  the  counsels  and  magistrates 
together  dyd  sweare,  that   they  would  kepe  Solons  lawes 
them  selves,  and  also  cause  them  to  be  observed  of  others 
"hesmo-  throughly  and  particularly.     Then  every  one  of  the  Thesmo- 

hetes.  thetes  (which  were  certaine  officers  attendaunt  on  the  counsell, 

and  had  speciall  charge  to  see  the  lawes  observed)  dyd 
solemnly  sweare  in  the  open  market  place,  neere  the  stone 
where  the  proclamations  are  proclaimed  :  and  every  of  them, 
both  promised,  and  vowed  openly  to  keepe  the  same  lawes, 
and  that  if  any  of  them  dyd  in  any  one  pointe  breake  the 
said  ordinaunces,  then  they  were  content  that  such  offender 
should  paye  to  the  temple  of  Apollo,  at  the  cittie  of  Delphes, 
an  image  of  fine  golde,  that  should  waye  as  much  as  him  self. 
Moreover  Solon  seeing  the  disorder  of  the  moneths,  and  the 
moving  of  the  moone,  which  followed  not  the  course  of  the 
sunne,  and  used  not  to  rise  and  fall  when  the  sunne  doth, 
but  oftetimes  in  one  daye,  it  doth  both  touche  and  passe  the 
sunne :  he  was  the  first  that  called  the  chaunge  of  the  moone, 
Enecdi  nea,  as  much  as  to  say,  as  '  olde  and  newe  moone.' 
Allowing  that  which  appeared  before  the  conjunction,  to  be 
of  the  moneth  past :  and  that  which  shewed  it  self  after  the 
conjunction,  to  be  of  the  moneth  following.  And  he  was 
the  first  also  (in  my  opinion)  that  understoode  Homer 
rightly,  when  he  sayed :  Then  beginneth  the  moneth  when  it 
endeth.  The  day  following  the  chaunge,  he  called  Neomenia, 
as  much  to  saye,  as  '  the  newe  moneth,'  or  '  the  newe  moone." 
After  the  twenty  day  of  the  moneth  which  they  called  Icada^ 
he  reckoned  not  the  rest  of  the  moneth,  as  increasing,  but  as 
in  the  wane  :  and  gathered  it  by  seing  the  light  of  the  moone 
decreasing  untill  the  thirtie  day.  Now  after  his  lawes  were 
come  abroade,  and  proclaimed,  there  came  some  daylie  unto 
him,  which  either  praised  them,  or  misliked  them  :  and  prayed 
him  either  to  take  awaye,  or  to  adde  some  thing  unto  them. 
Many  againe  came  and  asked  him,  howe  he  understoode  some 
sentence  of  his  lawes :  and  requested  him  to  declare  his 
meaning,  and  how  it  should  be  taken.  Wherefore  consider- 
ing howe  it  were  to  no  purpose  to  refuse  to  doe  it,  and 
againe  howe  it  would  get  him  much  envie  and  ill  will  to 
238 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

yelde  thereunto :   he  determined  (happen  what  would)  to     SOLON 
winde  him  selfe  out  of  these  bryars,  and  to  flye  the  gronings, 
complaints,  and  quarrells  of  his  cittizens.     For  he  sayeth 
him  selfe : 

Full  harde  it  is,  all  mindes  content  to  have, 
and  specially  in  matters  harde  and  grave. 

So,  to  convey  him  self  a  while  out  of  the  waye,  he  tooke 
upon  him  to  be  master  of  a  shippe  in  a  certaine  voyage,  and 
asked  licence  for  tenne  yeres  of  the  Athenians  to  goe  beyond 
sea,  hoping  by  that  time  the  Athenians  would  be  very  well 
acquainted  with  his  lawes.  So  went  he  to  the  seas,  and  the  Solons 
first  place  of  his  arrivall  was  in  Egypt,  where  he  remained  a  travell. 
while,  as  he  him  self  sayeth. 

Even  there  where  Nylus,  with  his  crooked  crankes 
by  Canobe,  falles  into  the  sea  banckes. 

He  went  to  his  booke  there,  and  dyd  conferre  a  certaine 
time  with  Psenophis  Heliopolitan,  and  Sonchis  Saltan,  two 
of  the  wisest  priestes  at  that  time  that  were  in  Egypt :  whom 
when  he  heard  rehearse  the  storie  of  the  lies  Atlantides  as 
Plato  writeth,  he  proved  to  put  the  same  in  verse,  and  dyd 
send  it  abroade  through  Grece.  At  his  departure  out  of 
Egypt  he  went  into  Cyprus,  where  he  had  great  curtesy  and 
friendship  of  one  of  the  princes  of  that  countrie,  called 
Philocyprus,  who  was  lorde  of  a  prety  litle  cittie  which 
Demophon  (Theseus  sonne)  caused  to  be  built  upon  the  river 
of  Clarie,  and  was  of  a  goodly  strong  situation,  but  in  a  very  Clarius  fl. 
leane  and  barren  countrie.  Whereupon  Solon  tolde  him,  it 
would  doe  better  a  great  deale  to  remove  it  out  of  that  place, 
into  a  very  fayer  and  pleasaunt  valley  that  laye  underneath 
it,  and  there  to  make  it  larger  and  statelier  then  it  was  : 
which  was  done  according  to  his  persuasion.  And  Solon  self 
being  present  at  it,  was  made  overseer  of  the  buildings, 
which  he  dyd  helpe  to  devise  and  order  in  good  sorte,  aswell 
in  respect  of  pleasure,  as  for  force  and  defence  :  insomuch  as 
many  people  came  from  other  places  to  dwell  there.  And 
herein  many  other  lordes  of  the  countrie  dyd  followe  th' 
example  of  this  Philocyprus,  who  to  honour  Solon,  called 

239 


SOLON 

iEpia  called 
Soles. 


Solon  sawe 
king  Croesus 
in  the  cittie 
of  Sardis. 


LIVES   OF   THE    NOBLE 

his  cittie  Soles,  which  before  was  called  ^pia,  Solon  in  his 
Elegies  maketh  mention  of  this  foundation,  directing  his 
wordes  unto  Philocyprus,  as  followeth : 

So  graunt  the  goddes,  that  thou,  and  thine  offspring 

maye  clyme  to  great,  and  passing  princely  state  : 

long  time  to  live,  in  Soles  florishing. 
And  that  they  graunt,  my  shippe  and  me  good  gate 

when  I  from  hence,  by  seas  shall  take  my  waye  : 

that  with  her  harpe,  dame  Venus  doe  vouchesafe 

to  waft  me  still,  untill  she  maye  conveye 

my  selfe  againe,  into  my  countrey  safe. 
Since  I  have  bene,  the  only  meane  and  man, 

which  here  to  build,  this  cittie  first  beganne. 

And  as  for  the  meeting  and  talke  betwext  him  and  king 
Croesus,  I  know  there  are  that  by  distance  of  time  will  prove  it 
but  a  fable,  and  devised  of  pleasure :  but  for  my  parte  I  will 
not  reject,  nor  condemne  so  famous  an  historic,  received  and 
approved  by  so  many  grave  testimonies.  Moreover  it  is  very 
agreable  to  Solons  manners  and  nature,  and  also  not  unlike  to 
his  wisedom  and  magnanimitie :  although  in  all  pointes  it 
agreeth  not  with  certaine  tables  (which  they  call  Chronicles) 
where  they  have  busily  noted  the  order  and  course  of  times 
which  even  to  this  daye,  many  have  curiously  sought  to 
correct,  and  could  yet  never  discusse  it,  nor  accorde  all 
contrarieties  and  manifest  repugnaunces  in  the  same.  Solon 
at  the  desire  and  request  of  Croesus,  went  to  see  him  in  the 
cittie  of  Sardis.  When  Solon  was  come  thither,  he  seemed  to 
be  in  the  selfe  same  taking  that  a  man  was  once  reported  to 
be  :  who  being  borne  and  bred  up  on  the  mayne  lande,  and 
had  never  scene  the  sea  neither  farre  nor  neere,  did  imagine 
every  river  that  he  sawe  had  bene  the  sea.  So  Solon  passing 
alongest  Croesus  palace,  and  meeting  by  the  waye  many  of 
the  lordes  of  his  courte  richely  apparelled,  and  carying  great 
traines  of  serving  men,  and  souldiers  about  them  :  thought 
ever  that  one  of  them  had  bene  the  King,  untill  he  was 
brought  unto  Croesus  selfe.  Who  was  passing  richely 
arrayed,  what  for  precious  stones  and  juells,  and  for  riche 
cullered  silkes,  layed  on  with  curious  goldsmithes  worke,  and 
all  to  shewe  him  self  to  Solon  in  most  stately,  sumptuous, 

240 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

and  magnificent  manner.     Who  perceiving  by  Solons  repayre     SOLON 
to  his  presence,  that  he  shewed  no  manner  of  signe,  nor 
countenance  of  woundring,  to  see  so  great  a  state  before 
him,  neither  had  geven  out  any  word  neere  or  likely  to  that 
which  Croesus  looked  for  in  his  owne  imagination,  but  rather 
had   delivered  speaches  for  men  of  judgement  and   under- 
standing to  know,  how  inwardly  he  much  did  mislike  Croesus 
foolish  vanitie  and  base  minde  :  then  Croesus  commaunded  all 
his  treasuries  to  be  opened  where  his  golde  and  silver  laye, 
next  that  they  should  shewe  him  his  riche  and  sumptuous 
wardroppes,  although  that  needed  not :  for  to  see  Croesus 
self,    it  was  enough   to  discerne  his  nature  and  condition. 
After  he  had  seene  all  over  and  over,  being  brought  againe 
unto  the  presence  of  the  King :  Croesus  asked  him,  if  ever  he  Croesus  ques- 
had  seene  any  man  more  happy  than  him   self  was  ?  Solon  ^^^"^  *?  Solon 
aunswered  him,  I  have :  and  that  was  one  Tellus  a  cittizen  jjappjn'^f 
of  Athens,  who  was  a  marvelous  honest  man,  and  had  left 
his  children  behind  him  in  good  estimation,  and  well  to  live,  Solon 
and  lastly,  was  most  happy  at  his  death,  by  dying  honorably  esteemed 
in  the  field,  in  defence  of  his  countrie.     Croesus  hearing  this  ^  ^.^  ^ 
aunswer,  beganne  to  judge  him  a  man  of  litle  witte,  or  of 
grosse  understanding,  bicause  he  did  not  thincke  that  to  have 
store  of  gold  and  silver,  was  the  only  joye  and  felicitie  of 
the  world,  and  that  he  would  preferre  the  life  and  death  of 
a  meane  and  private  man  as  more  happy,  than  all  the  riches 
and  power  of  so  mightie  a  King.     Notwithstanding  all  this, 
Croesus  yet  asked  him  again  :  What  other  man  beside  Tellus 
he  had  seene  happier  than  him  self?     Solon  aunswered  him, 
that   he   had  seene   Cleobis   and   Biton,  which   were   both  Cleobis  and 
brethern,  and  loved  one  another  singularly  well,  and  their  Biton,  happy 
mother  in  such  sorte :  that  upon  a  solemne  festivall  daye,  "^^"' 
when  she  should  goe  to  the  temple  of  luno  in  her  coche 
drawen  with  oxen :    bicause  they  taried  to  long  ere  they 
could  be  brought,  they  both  willingly  yoked  them  selves  by 
the  necks,  and  drue  their  mothers  coche  in  stead  of  the  oxen, 
which  marvelously  rejoyced  her,  and  she  was  thought  most 
happy  of  all  other,  to  have  borne  two  such  sonnes.     After- 
wards when  they  had   done  sacrifice  to  the  goddesse,  and 
made  good  cheere  at  the  feast  of  this  sacrifice,  they  went  to 
2  H  241 


SOLON 


Solon  com- 
mendeth  the 
meane. 


No  man 
liappie  before 
his  ende. 


^sops  saying 
to  Solon. 


Solons 
aunswer  to 
iSlsope. 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

bed :  but  they  rose  not  againe  the  next  morning,  for  they 
were  found  dead  >vithout  suffering  hurte  or  sorowe,  after 
they  had  receyved  so  much  glorie  and  honour.  Croesus 
then  could  no  longer  bridell  in  his  pacience,  but  breaking 
out  in  ch  oiler,  sayed  unto  him  :  Why,  doest  thou  recken  me 
than  in  no  degree  of  happy  men  ?  Solon  would  neither 
flatter  him,  nor  further  increase  his  heate,  but  aunswered 
him  thus :  O  King  of  Lydians,  the  godds  have  geven  us 
Grecians  all  things  in  a  meane,  and  amongest  other  things 
chiefly,  a  base  and  popular  wisedome,  not  princely  nor  noble : 
which,  considering  howe  mans  life  is  subject  to  infinite 
chaunges,  doth  forbid  us  to  trust  or  glorie  in  these  worldly 
riches.  For  time  bringeth  daylie  misfortunes  unto  man, 
which  he  never  thought  of,  nor  looked  for.  But  when  the 
goddes  have  continued  a  mans  good  fortune  to  his  end,  then 
we  thinke  that  man  happy  and  blessed,  and  never  before. 
Otherwise,  if  we  should  judge  a  man  happy  that  liveth, 
considering  he  is  ever  in  daunger  of  chaunge  during  life :  we 
should  be  much  like  to  him,  who  judgeth  him  the  victorie 
before  hande,  that  is  still  a  fighting,  and  maye  be  over- 
comen,  having  no  suertie  yet  to  carie  it  away.  After  Solon 
liad  spoken  these  words,  he  departed  from  the  Kings 
presence,  and  returned  backe  againe,  leaving  king  Croesus 
off'ended,  but  nothing  the  wiser,  nor  amended.  Nowe  ^sope 
that  wrote  the  fables,  being  at  that  time  in  the  cittie  of 
Sardis,  and  sent  for  thither  by  the  King,  who  entertained 
him  very  honorably :  was  very  sorie  to  see  that  the  King 
had  geven  Solon  no  better  entertainement :  so  by  waye  of 
advise  he  said  unto  him  :  O  Solon,  either  we  must  not  come 
to  princes  at  all,  or  els  we  must  seeke  to  please  and  content 
them.  But  Solon  turning  it  to  the  contrary,  aunswered 
him  :  Either  we  must  not  come  to  princes,  or  we  must  needes 
tell  them  truely,  and  counsell  them  for  the  best.  So  Croesus 
made  light  accompt  of  Solon  at  that  time.  But  after  he 
had  lost  the  battell  against  Cyrus,  and  that  liis  cittie  was 
taken,  him  self  became  prisoner,  and  was  bounde  fast  to  a 
gibbet,  over  a  great  stacke  of  wood,  to  be  burnt  in  the  sight 
of  all  the  Persians,  and  of  Cyrus  his  enemie :  he  then  cried 
out  as  lowde  as  he  could,  thryse  together  :  O  Solon.  Cyrus 
242 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

being  abashed,  sent  to  aske  him,  whether  this  Solon  he  only     SOLON 
cried  upon  in  his  extreme  miserie,  was  a  god  or  man.    Croesus  King  Croesus 
kept  it  not  secret  from  him,  but  sayed :  He  was  one  of  the  wordes  of 
wise  men  of  Grece,  whom  I  sent  for  to  come  unto  me  on  a  ^olon  hang- 
certaine  time,  not  to  learne  any  thing  of  him  which  I  stoode  "-f^jg^  ^^  ^g 
in  neede  of,  but  only  that  he  might  witnesse  my  felicitie,  burnt, 
which  then  I  dyd  enjoye :  the  losse  whereof  is  nowe  more 
hortefull,  than  the  enjoying  of  the  same  was  good  or  profit- 
able.    But  nowe  (alas)  to  late  I  know  it,  that  the  riches  I  Riches  are 
possessed  then,  were  but  words  and  opinion,  all  which  are  but  wordes 
turned  now  to  my  bitter  sorowe,  and  to  present  and  remediles  ^      opinion, 
calamitie.     Which  the  wise  Grecian  considering  then,  and 
foreseeing  a  farre  of  by  my  doings  at  that  time,  the  instant 
miserie  I  suffer  nowe :  gave  me  warning  I  should  marke  the 
ende  of  my  life,  and  that  I  should  not  to  farre  presume  of 
my  selfe,  as  puffed  up  then  with  vaine  glorie  of  opinion  of 
happines,  the  ground  therof  being  so  slippery,  and  of  so 
litle  suertie.     These  wordes  being  reported  unto  Cyrus,  who 
was  wiser  than  Croesus,  and  seeing  Solons  saying  confirmed 
by  so  notable  an  example :  he  dyd  not  only  deliver  Croesus 
from  present  perill  of  death,  but  ever  after  honoured  him  so 
long  as  he  lived.     Thus  had  Solon  glorie,  for  saving  the 
honour  of  one  of  these  Kings  :  and  the  life  of  the  other,  by 
his  grave  and  wise  counsaill.     But  during  the  time  of  his 
absence,  great  seditions  rose  at  Athens  amongest  the  inhabi-  Sedition  at 
tants,  who  had  gotten  them  severall  heades  amongest  them  :  Athens  in 
as  those  of  the  vallie  had  made  Lycurgus  their  head.     The  '^"^^^^ 
coast  men,  Megacles,  the  sonne  of  Alcmaeon.     And  those  of 
the  mountaines,  Pisistratus :  with  whom  all  artificers  and 
crafts  men  living  of  their  handle  labour  were  joyned,  which 
were  the  sto^vtest  against  the  riche.     So  that  notwithstand- 
ing the  cittie  kept  Solons  lawes  and  ordinaunces,  yet  was 
there  not  that  man  but  gaped  for  a  chaunge,  and  desired  to 
see  things  in  another   state :    either   parties   hoping   their 
condition  would  mende  by  chaunge,  and  that  every  of  them 
should  be  better  than  their  adversaries.     The  whole  common 
weale  broyling  thus  with  troubles,  Solon  arrived  at  Athens,  Solon  return- 
where  every  man  did  honour  and  reverence  him,  howbeit  he  eth  to  Athens, 
was  no  more  able  to  speake  alowde  in  open  assembly  to  the 

243 


Pisistratus 
wicked  crafte 
and  subtiltie. 


LIVES   OF   THE    NOBLE 

SOLON      people,  nor  to  deale  in  matters  as  he  had  done  before,  bicause 
his  age  would  not  suffer  him :  and  therefore  he  spake  with 
every  one  of  the  heades  of  the  severall  factions  a  parte, 
trying  if  he  could  agree  and  reconcile  them  together  againe. 
Whereunto  Pisistratus  seemed  to  be  more  willing  then  any 
of  the  rest,  for  he  was  curteous,  and  marvelous  fayer  spoken, 
and  shewed  him  selfe  besides,  very  good  and  pittiefull  to  the 
poore,  and  temperate  also  to  his  enemies  :    further,  if  any 
good  quality  were  lacking  in  him,  he  dyd  so  finely  counter- 
feate  it,  that  men  imagined  it  was  more  in  him,  than  in 
those  that  naturally  had  it  in  them  in  deede.     As  to  be  a 
quiet  man,  no  medler,  contented  with  his  owne,  aspiring  no 
higher,  and  hating  those  which  would  attempt  to  chaunge 
the  present  state  of  the  common  weale,  and  would  practise 
any  innovation.     By  this  arte  and  fine  manner  of  his,  he 
deceyved  the  poore  common  people.     Howbeit  Solon  found 
him  straight,  and  sawe  the  marke  he  shot  at :  but  yet  hated 
him  not  at  that  time,  and  sought  still  to  winne  him,  and 
bring  him  to  reason,  saying  oftetimes,  both  to  him  selfe,  and 
to  others.     That  who  so  could  plucke  out  of  his  head  the 
worme  of  ambition,  by  which  he  aspired  to  be  the  chiefest, 
and  could  heale  him  of  his  greedy  desire  to  rule  :  there  could 
not  be  a  man  of  more  vertue,  or  a  better  cittizen  than  he 
Thespis  a         would  prove.     About  this  time  beganne  Thespis  to  set  out 
maker  of         his  tragedies,  which  was  a  thing  that  much  delited  the  people 
tragedies.         £qj.  ^|^g  rarenes  thereof,  being  not  many  poets  yet  in  number, 
to   strive   one   against   another  for  victorie,  as   afterwards 
there  were.     Solon  being  naturally  desirous  to  heare  and 
learne,  and  by  reason  of  his  age  seeking  to  passe  his  time 
awaye  in  sportes,  in  musicke,  and  making  good  cheere  more 
then  ever  he  dyd :  went  one  daye  to  see  Thespis,  who  played 
a  parte  him  selfe,  as  the  olde  facion  of  the  Poets  was,  and 
after  the  playe  was  ended,  he  called  him  to  him,  and  asked 
Solon  reprov-   him :  if  he  were  not  ashamed  to  lye  so  openly  in  the  face 
ed  Thespis       of  the  worlde.     Thespis  aunswered  him,  that  it   was  not 
for  lying.         materiall  to  doe  or  saye  any  such  things,  considering  all  was 
but  in  sporte.     Then  Solon  beating  the  grounde  with  his 
staffe  he  had  in  his  hande :  But  if  we  commend  lying  in 
sporte  (quoth  he)  we  shall  finde  it  afterwards  in  good  earnest, 
244 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

in  all  our  bargaines  and  dealings.  Shortely  after  Pisistratus 
having  wounded  him  self,  and  bloudied  all  his  bodie  over, 
caused  his  men  to  carie  him  in  his  coche  into  the  market 
place,  where  he  put  the  people  in  an  uprore,  and  tolde  them 
that  they  were  his  enemies  that  thus  traiterously  had  handled 
and  arraied  him,  for  that  he  stoode  with  them  about  the 
governing  of  the  common  weale  :  insomuch  as  many  of  them 
were  marvelously  offended,  and  mutined  by  and  by,  crying 
out  it  was  shamefully  done.  Then  Solon  drawing  neere 
sayed  unto  him,  O  thou  sonne  of  Hippocrates,  thou  doest 
ill  favoredly  counterfeate  the  persone  of  Homers  Vlysses  :  for 
thou  hast  whipped  thy  self  to  deceive  thy  cittizens,  as  he  did 
teare  and  scratch  him  self,  to  deceive  his  enemies.  Not- 
withstanding this,  the  common  people  were  still  in  uprore, 
being  ready  to  take  amies  for  Pisistratus  :  and  there  was  a 
generall  counsell  assembled,  in  the  which  one  Ariston  spake, 
that  they  should  graunte  fiftie  men,  to  cary  holberds  and 
mases  before  Pisistratus  for  garde  of  his  persone.  But  Solon 
going  up  into  the  pulpit  for  orations,  stowtely  invayed  against 
it :  and  persuaded  the  people  with  many  reasons,  like  unto 
these  he  wrote  afterwards  in  verse : 

Eche  one  of  you  (O  men)  in  private  actes^ 
can  playe  the  foxe,  for  slye  and  subtill  craft ' 

But  when  you  come,  yfore  (in  all  your  factes) 
then  are  you  blinde,  dull  witted  and  bedaft. 

For  pleasaunt  speache,  and  painted  flatterie, 
beguile  you  still,  the  which  you  never  spye. 

But  in  the  ende,  seeing  the  poore  people  dyd  tumult  still, 
taking  Pisistratus  parte,  and  that  the  riche  fled  here  and 
there,  he  went  his  waye  also,  saying :  he  had  shewed  him 
selfe  wiser  than  some,  and  hardier  than  other.  Meaning, 
wiser  than  those  which  sawe  not  Pisistratus  reache  and  fetche  : 
and  hardier  than  they  which  knewe  very  well  he  dyd  aspire 
to  be  King,  and  yet  nevertheles  durst  not  resist  him.  The 
people  went  on  with  the  motion  of  Ariston,  and  authorised 
the  same,  touching  the  graunte  of  halberders :  limiting  no 
number,  but  suffered  him  to  have  about  him  and  to  assemble, 
as  many  as  he  would,  untill  such  time  as  he  had  gotten 
possession  of  the  castell.     Then  the  cittie  was  marvelously 

245 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

SOLON  affrayed  and  amazed  :  and  presently  Megacles,  and  all  those 
which  were  of  the  house  of  the  Alcmeonides  dyd  flye.  Solon, 
who  for  yeares  was  now  at  his  last  cast,  and  had  no  man  to 
sticke  unto  him :  went  notwithstanding  into  the  market 
place,  and  spake  to  the  cittizens  whom  he  found  there,  and 
rebuked  their  beastlines,  and  faynte  cowardly  hartes,  and 
encouraged  them  not  to  lose  their  libertie.  He  spake  at 
that  time  notably,  and  worthie  memorie,  which  ever  after 
was  remembred.  Before  sayed  he,  you  might  more  easely 
have  stayed  this  present  tyrannic :  but  nowe  that  it  is 
already  facioned,  you  shall  winne  more  glorie,  utterly  to 
suppresse  it.  But  for  all  his  goodly  reasons,  he  found  no 
man  that  would  hearken  to  him,  they  were  all  so  amazed. 
Wherefore  he  hied  him  home  againe,  and  tooke  his  weapons 
out  of  his  house,  and  layed  them  before  his  gate  in  the 
middest  of  the  streete,  saying  :  For  my  parte,  I  have  done 
what  I  can  possible,  to  helpe  and  defend  the  lawes  and 
liberties  of  my  countrie.  So  from  that  time  he  betooke 
him  selfe  unto  his  ease,  and  never  after  delt  any  more  in 
matters  of  state,  or  common  weale.  His  friends  dyd  counsel! 
8olons  him  to  flye  :  but  all  they  could  not  persuade  him  to  it.    For 

libertie  and      he  kept  his  house,  and  gave  him  selfe  to  make  verses :  in 
constancie.       which  he  sore  reproved  the  Athenians  faults,  saying : 

If  presently,  your  burden  heavy  be  : 
yet  murmure  not  against  the  godds  therefore. 

The  fault  is  yours,  as  you  your  selves  maye  see, 
which  graunted  have  of  mightie  mars  the  lore, 
to  such  as  nowe,  by  your  direction 
doe  holde  your  necks,  in  this  subjection. 

His  friends  hereupon  dyd  wame  him,  to  beware  of  such 
speaches,  and  to  take  hede  what  he  sayed :  least  if  it  came 
unto  the  tyrannes  eares,  he  might  put  him  to  death  [for  it. 
And  further,  they  asked  him  wherein  he  trusted,  that  he 
spake  so  boldly.  He  aunswered  them  :  In  my  age.  Howbeit 
Pisistratus  after  he  had  obteined  his  purpose,  sending  for 
him  upon  his  worde  and  faith,  dyd  honour  and  entertaine 
him  so  well,  that  Solon  in  the  ende  became  one  of  his  coun- 
saill,  and  approved  many  things  which  he  dyd.  For  Pisis- 
tratus him  selfe  dyd  straightly  keepe,  and  caused  his  friends 

246 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

to  keepe  Solons  lawes.     Insomuch  as  when  he  was  called  by     SOLON 

proces  into  the  courte  of  the  Areopagites  for  a  murther, 

even  at  that  time  when  he  was  a  tyrante :  he  presented  him 

selfe  very  modestly  to  aunswer  his  accusation,  and  to  purge 

him  selfe  thereof.     But  his  accuser  let  fall  the  matter,  and 

followed  it  no  further.     Pisistratus  him  selfe  also  dyd  make 

newe  lawes  :  as  this.     That  he  that  had  bene  maymed,  and  A  good  lawe 

made  lame  of  any  member  in  the  warres,  should  be  main-  for  reward  of 

teined  all  his  life  long,  at  the  common  charges  of  the  cittie.  service. 

The  selfe  same  was  before  decreed  by  Thersippus  (as  Hera- 

clides  writeth)  by  Solons  persuasion  :  who  dyd  preferre  it  to 

the   counsell.      Pisistratus   afterwards   tooke   holde  of  the 

motion,  and  from  thence  forth  made  it   a  generall  lawe. 

Theophrastus  sayeth  also,  it  was  Pisistratus,  and  not  Solon, 

that  made  the  lawe  for  idlenes  :   which  was  the  only  cause 

that  the  countrie  of  Attica  became  more  fruitefull,  being 

better  manured  :  and  the  cittie  of  Athens  waxed  more  quiet. 

But  Solon  having  begonne  to  write  the  storie  of  the  lies 

Atlantides  in  verse  (which  he  had  learned  of  the  wise  men  of 

the  cittie  of  Sais  in  Egypt,  and  was  very  necessary  for  the 

Athenians)  grewe  wearye,  and  gave  it  over  in   mid  waye  : 

not  for  any  matters  or  busines  that  troubled  him,  as  Plato 

sayed,  but  only  for  his  age,  and  bicause  he  feared  the  tedi- 

ousnes  of  the  worke.     For  otherwise  he  had  leysure  enough, 

as  appeareth  by  his  verses  where  he  sayeth  : 

I  growe  olde,  and  yet  I  learne  still. 

And  in  another  place  where  he  sayeth, 

Nowe  Venus  yeldes  me  swete  delights, 

and  Bacchus  lends  me  comfort  still  : 

the  muses  eke,  refreshe  my  sprights, 

and  much  relieve  my  weary  wiD. 
These  be  the  pointes  of  perfect  ease, 

which  all  mens  mindes  oftetimes  doe  please. 

Plato  afterwards  for  beawtifying  of  the  storie  and  fables 
of  the  lies  Atlantides,  was  desirous  to  dilate  them  out  at 
length,  as  if  he  would  by  waye  of  speache  have  broken  up 
a  field  or  laye  lande  of  his  owne,  or  that  this  gifte  had 
descended  to  him  of  right  from  Solon.     He  beganne  to  raise 

247 


LIVES   OF   THE    NOBLE 

SOLON  up  a  stately  fronte  unto  the  same,  and  enclosed  it  with  high 
walles,  and  large  squared  courtes  at  the  entrie  thereof :  such 
was  it,  as  never  any  other  worke,  fable,  or  poeticall  invention 
had  ever  so  notable,  or  the  like.  But  bicause  he  beganne  a 
litle  to  late,  he  ended  his  life  before  his  worke,  leaving  the 
readers  more  sorowfull  for  that  was  left  unwritten,  than  they 
tooke  pleasure  in  that  they  founde  written.  For  even  as  in 
the  cittie  of  Athens,  the  temple  of  lupiter  Olympian  only 
remained  unperfect  :  so  the  wisdome  of  Plato  (amongest 
many  goodly  matters  of  his  that  have  come  abroade)  left 
none  of  them  unperfect,  but  the  only  tale  of  the  lies  Atlan- 
tides.  Solon  lived  long  time  after  Pisistratus  had  usurped 
the  tyrannic,  as  Heraclides  Ponticus  writeth.  Howbeit 
Phanias  Ephesian  writeth,  that  he  lived  not  above  two  yeres 
after.  For  Pisistratus  usurped  tyrannicall  power  in  the  yere 
that  Comias  was  chief  governour  in  Athens.  And  Phanias 
writeth,  that  Solon  dyed  in  the  yere  that  Hegestratus  was 
governour,  which  was  the  next  yere  after  that.  And  where 
some  saye,  the  ashes  of  his  laodie  were  after  his  death 
strawed  abroade  through  the  He  of  Salamina:  that 
seemeth  to  be  but  a  fable,  and  altogether  untrue. 
Nevertheles  it  hath  bene  written  by  many  notable 
authours,  and  amongest  others,  by  Aristotle 
the  philosopher. 

THE  EXDE  OF  SOLONS  LIFE 


248 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 


THE  LIFE  OF  PUBLIUS 
VALERIUS  PUBLICOLA 


OWE  we  have  declared  what  Solon  was,  we 
have  thought  good  to  compare  him  with 
Publicola,  to  whom  the  Romaine  people 
for  an  honour  gave  that  surname  :  for 
he  was  called  before  Publius  Valerius, 
descended  from  that  auncient  Valerius, 
who  was  one  of  the  chiefest  worckers  and 
meanes,  to  bring  the  Romaines  and  the 
Sabynes  that  were  mortall  enemies,  to  joyne  together  as 
one  people.  For  it  was  he  that  most  movea  the  two  Kings 
to  agree,  and  joyne  together.  Publicola  being  descended  of 
him,  whilest  the  Kings  dyd  rule  yet  at  Rome,  was  in  very 
great  estimation,  aswell  for  his  eloquence,  as  for  his  riches : 
using  the  one  rightly  and  freely,  for  the  maintenaunce  of 
justice,  and  the  other  liberally  and  curteously,  for  the  relief 
of  the  poore.  So  that  it  was  manifest,  if  the  Realme  came 
to  be  converted  into  a  publicke  state,  he  should  be  one  of 
the  chiefest  men  of  the  same.  It  chaunced  that  king 
Tarquine  surnamed  the  prowde,  being  come  to  the  crowne 
by  no  good  lawfuU  meane,  but  contrarylie  by  indirect  and 
wicked  wayes,  and  behaving  him  selfe  not  like  a  King,  but 
like  a  cruell  tyrante  :  the  people  much  hated  and  detested 
him,  by  reason  of  the  death  of  Lucretia  (which  killed  her 
selfe  for  that  she  was  forcibly  ravished  by  him)  and  so  the 
whole  cittie  rose  and  rebelled  against  him.  Lucius  Brutus 
taking  upon  him  to  be  the  head  and  captaine  of  this  insur- 
rection and  rebellion,  did  joyne  first  with  this  Valerius  :  who 
dyd  greately  favour  and  assist  his  enterprise,  and  did  helpe 
him  to  drive  out  king  Tarquine  with  all  his  house  and 
familie.  Nowe  whilest  they  were  thincking  that  the  people 
would  chuse  some  one  alone  to  be  chief  ruler  over  them, 
m  stead  of  a  King  :  Valerius  kept  him  selfe  quiet,  as  yelding 
2  1  249 


The  house  of 
P.  Valerius. 


Tarquinius 
Superbus. 


Valerius, 
Brutus  com- 
panion, in 
expulsingthe 
Kings. 


Lucius 

Brutus. 

Tarquinius 

CoUatinus 

Consuls. 


LIVES    OF    THE    NOBLE 

PUBLICOLA  willingly  unto  Brutus  the  first  place,  who  was  meetest  for  it, 
having  bene  the  chief  authour  and  worcker  of  their  recovered 
libertie.  But  when  they  sawe  the  name  of  Monarchie  (as 
much  to  saye,  as  soveraintie  alone)  was  displeasaunt  to  the 
people,  and  that  they  would  like  better  to  have  the  rule 
devided  unto  two,  and  how  for  this  cause  they  would  rather 
choose  two  Consuls :  Valerius  then  beganne  to  hope,  he 
should  be  the  seconde  persone  with  Brutus.  Howbeit  this 
hope  fayled  him.  For  against  Brutus  will,  Tarquinius 
CoUatinus  (the  husband  of  Lucretia)  was  chosen  Consul  with 
him :  not  bicause  he  was  a  man  of  greater  vertue,  or  of 
better  estimation  than  Valerius.  But  the  noble  men  of  the 
cittie  fearing  the  practises  of  the  Kings  abroade,  which 
sought  by  all  the  fayer  and  flattering  meanes  they  could  to 
returne  againe  into  the  cittie :  dyd  determine  to  make  such 
an  one  Consul,  whom  occasion  forced  to  be  their  hard  and 
heavy  enemie,  persuading  them  selves  that  Tarquinius 
CoUatinus  would  for  no  respect  yeld  unto  them.  Valerius 
tooke  this  matter  grevously,  but  they  had  a  mistrust  in  him, 
as  if  he  would  not  doe  any  thing  he  could,  for  the  benefit  of 
his  countrie :  notwithstanding  he  had  never  any  private 
injurie  offered  him  by  the  tyrannes.  Wherfore,  he  repaired 
no  more  unto  the  Senate  to  pleade  for  private  men,  and 
wholy  gave  up  to  medle  in  matters  of  state :  insomuch  as  he 
gave  many  occasion  to  thincke  of  his  absence,  and  it  troubled 
some  men  much,  who  feared  least  upon  this  his  misliking 
and  withdrawing,  he  would  fall  to  the  Kings  side,  and  so 
bring  all  the  cittie  in  an  uprore,  considering  it  stoode  then 
but  in  very  tickle  termes.  But  when  Brutus,  who  stoode  in 
jealousie  of  some,  would  by  othe  be  assured  of  the  Senate, 
and  had  appointed  them  a  daye  solemnely  to  take  their 
othes  upon  the  sacrifices  :  Valerius  then  with  a  good  cheere- 
full  countenaunce  came  into  the  market  place,  and  was  the 
first  that  tooke  his  othe  he  would  leave  nothing  undone, 
that  might  prejudice  the  Tarquines,  but  with  all  his  able 
power  he  would  fight  against  them,  and  defend  the  libertie 
of  the  cittie.  This  othe  of  his  marvelously  rejoyced  the 
Senate,  and  gave  great  assurance  also  to  the  Consuls,  but 
specially,  bicause  his  dedes  dyd  shortly  after  performe  his 
250 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

wordes.      For   there   came   ambassadours   to    Rome    which  PUBLICOLA 
brought   letters    from    king   Tarquine,  full  of  sweete   and  The  first 
lowly  speaches  to  winne  the  favour  of  the  people,  with  com-  embassiate  of 
mission  to  use  all  the  mildest  meanes  they  could,  to  dulce  kingTarquine 
and   soften   the    hardened    harts   of    the   multitude :    who  ^^^  Realm"°^ 
declared  how  the  King  had  left  all  pryde  and  crueltie,  and 
ment  to  aske  nought  but  reasonable  things.     The  Consuls 
thought  best  to  geve  them  open  audience,  and  to  suffer 
them  to  speake  to  the  people.     But  Valerius  was  against  it, 
declaring  it  might  perill  the  state  much,  and  deliver  occasion 
of  new  sturre  unto  a  multitude  of  poore  people,  which  were 
more  afFrayed  of  warres,  then  of  tyrannic.     After  that,  there 
came  other  ambassadours  also,  which  sayed  that  Tarquine  Another  em- 
would  from  thenceforth  for  ever  geve  over  and  renounce  his  bassiate  from 
title  to  the  Kingdome,  and  to  make  any  more  warres,  but     ^^^^jP^   ®: 
besought  them  only,  that  they  would  at  the  least  deliver  ^oodes. 
him  and  his  friends  their  money  and  goods,  that  they  might 
have   wherewithall   to    keepe    them   in    their   banishment. 
Many  came  on  a  pace,  and  were  very  ready  to  yeld  to  this 
request,  and   specially  Collatinus,  one  of  the  Consuls  who 
dyd  favour  their  motion.     But  Brutus  that  was  a  fast  and 
resolute  man,  and  very  fierce  in  his  harte,  ranne  immediately 
into  the  market  place,  crying  out  that  his  fellowe  Consul 
was  a  traytour,  and  contented  to  graunt  the  tyrannes  matter, 
and  meanes  to  make  warre  upon  the  cittie,  where  in  deede 
they  deserved  not  so  much,-  as  to  be  relieved  in  their  exile. 
Hereupon  the  people  assembled  together,  and  the  first  that 
spake  in  this   assembly,  was   a   private  man  called    Gaius 
Minutius,  who    speaking   unto   Brutus,  and    to  the  whole 
assembly,  sayed  unto  them  :    O  noble  Consul  and   Senate,  Good  counsel] 
handle  so  the  matter,  that  the  tyrannes  goods  be  rather  in  o^  Minutius. 
your  custodie  to  make  warre  with   them,   than   in  theirs, 
to  bring  warre  upon   your  selves.      Notwithstanding,  the 
Romaines  were  of  opinion,  that  having  gotten  the  liberty, 
for  which  they  fought  with  the  tyrannes  :  they  should  not 
disapoint  the  offered  peace,  with  keeping  backe  their  goodes, 
but  rather  they  should  throwe  their  goods  out  after  them. 
Howbeit  this  was  the  least  parte  of  Tarquines  intent,  to 
seeke  his  goodes  againe :  but  under  pretence  of  that  demaund, 

251 


PUBLICOLA 

Tarquines 
ambassadours 
practise 
treason. 


The  Aquilii 
and  Vitellii 
with  Brutus 
sonnes,  tray- 
tours  to  their 
countrie. 


The  confede- 
racy con- 
firmed with 
drinking  of 
mans  blond. 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

he  secretly  corrupted  the  people,  and  practised  treason, 
which  his  ambassadours  followed,  pretending  only  to  get 
the  Kings  goodes  and  his  favourers  together,  saying,  that 
they  had  already  solde  some  parte,  and  some  parte  they 
kept,  and  sent  them  daylie.  So  as  by  delaying  the  time  in 
this  sorte  with  such  pretences,  they  had  corrupted  two  of 
the  best  and  auncientest  houses  of  the  cittie :  to  wit,  the 
familie  of  the  Aquilians,  whereof  there  were  three  Senatours  : 
and  the  familie  of  the  Vitellians,  whereof  there  were  two 
Senatours  :  all  which  by  their  mothers,  were  Consul  Colla- 
tinus  nephewes.  The  Vitellians  also  were  allied  unto  Brutus, 
for  he  had  maried  their  o^vne  sister,  and  had  many  children 
by  her.  Of  the  which  the  Vitellians  had  drawen  to  their 
stringe,  two  of  the  eldest  of  them,  bicause  they  familiarly 
frequented  together,  being  cosin  germaines  :  whom  they  had 
intised  to  be  of  their  conspiracie,  allying  them  with  the  house 
of  the  Tarquines,  which  was  of  great  power,  and  through 
the  which  they  might  persuade  them  selves  to  rise  to  great 
honour  and  preferment  by  meanes  of  the  Kings,  rather  than 
to  trust  to  their  fathers  willfull  hardnes.  For  they  called 
his  severitie  to  the  wicked,  hardnes  :  for  that  he  would  never 
pardone  any.  Furthermore  Brutus  had  fayned  him  selfe 
mad,  and  a  foole  of  long  time  for  safety  of  his  life,  bicause 
the  tyrannes  should  not  put  him  to  death  :  so  that  the 
name  of  Brutus  only  remained.  After  these  two  young  men 
had  geven  their  consent  to  be  of  the  confederacie,  and  had 
spoken  with  the  Aquilians :  they  all  thought  good  to  be 
bounde  one  to  another,  with  a  great  and  horrible  othe, 
drincking  the  bloude  of  a  man,  and  shaking  hands  in  his 
bowells,  whom  they  would  sacrifice.  This  matter  agreed 
upon  betweene  them,  they  met  together  to  put  their  sacri- 
fice in  execution,  in  the  house  of  the  Aquilians.  They  had 
fittely  pickt  out  a  darcke  place  in  the  house  to  doe  this 
sacrifice  in,  and  where  almost  no  bodye  came :  yet  it  hap- 
pened by  chaunce,  that  one  of  the  servants  of  the  house 
called  Vindicius,  had  hidden  him  selfe  there,  unknowing  to 
the  traytours,  and  of  no  set  purpose,  to  spye  and  see  what 
they  dyd,  or  that  he  had  any  manner  of  inckling  thereof 
before :  but  falling  by  chaunce  upon  the  matter,  even  as  the 


GRECIANS   AND   ROMANES 

traytours  came  into  that  place  with  a  countenaunce  to  doe  PUBLICOL.-' 
some  secret  thing  of  importaimce,  fearing  to  be  seene,  he  A'indicius 
kept  him  selfe  close,  and  laye  behinde  a  coffer  that  was  heareth  all 
there,  so  that  he  sawe  all  that  was  done,  and  what  they  their  treason, 
sayed  and  determined.     The  conclusion  of  their  counsell  in 
the  ende  was  this,  that  they  would  kill  both  the  Consuls  :  The  conclu- 
and  they  wrote  letters  to  Tarquinius  advertising  the  same,  ^^^^  ^^  t^^i^ 
which  tliey  gave  unto  his  ambassadours,  being  lodged  in  the  *^®^^'*"- 
house  of  the  Aquilians,  and  were  present  at  this  conclusion. 
With  this  determination  they  departed  from  thence,  and 
Vindicius  came  out  also  as  secretly  as  he  could,  being  mar- 
velously  troubled  in  minde,  and  at  a  maze  howe  to  deale  in 
this  matter.     For  he  thought  it  daungerous  (as  it  was  in 
deede)  to  goe  and    accuse  the  two  sonnes  unto  the  father 
(which  was  Brutus)  of  so  wicked  and  detestable  a  treason, 
and  the  nephewes  unto  their  uncle,  which  was  Collatinus. 
On  the  other  side  also,  he  thought  this  was  a  secret,  not  to 
be  imparted  to  any  private  persone,  and  not  possible  for 
him  to  conceale  it,  that  was  bounde  in  duety  to  reveale  it. 
So  he  resolved  at  the  last  to  goe  to  Valerius  to  bewraye  this 
treason,  of  a  speciall  affection  to  this  man,  by  reason  of  his 
gentle  and  curteous  using  of  men,  geving  easy  accesse  and 
audience   unto  any  that   came   to    speake   with    him,  and 
specially  for  that  he  disdained  not  to  heare  poore  mens 
causes.    Vindicius  being  gone  to  speake  with  him,  and  having  Viudicius 
tolde  him  the  whole  conspiracy  before  his  brother  Marcus  hewrayeth 
Valerius,  and  his  wife,  he  was  abashed  and  fearefuU  withall :  *^^  treason  ^ 
whereupon  he  stayed  him  least  he  should  slippe  awaye,  and 
locked  him  in  a  chamber,  charging  his  wife  to  watche  the 
doore,  that  no  bodie  went  in  nor  out  unto  him.     And  willed 
his  brother  also,  that  he  should  goe  and  beset  the  Kings 
palace  round  about,  to  intercept  these  letters  if  it  were  pos- 
sible, and  to  see  that  none  of  their  servants  fled.     Valerivis 
selfe  being  followed  (according  to  his  manner)  with  a  great 
traine  of  his  friendes  and  people  that  wayted  on  him,  went 
straight  unto  the  house  of  the  Aquilians,  who  by  chaunce 
were  from  home  at  that  time :  and  entring  in  at  the  gate, 
without  let  or  trouble  of  any  man,  he  founde  the  letters 
in  the  chamber,  where  king  Tarquines  ambassadours  lave. 

253 


PUBLICOLA 


Titus  and 
Valerius, 
Brutus 


Brutus 
seeth  his 
owne  sonnes 
punished  and 
executed. 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

Whilest  he  was  thus  occupied,  the  Aquilians  having  intelli- 
gence thereof,  ranne  home  immediately,  and  founde  Valerius 
comming  out  at  their  gate.  So  they  would  have  taken  those 
letters  from  him  by  force,  and  strong  hande.  But  Valerius 
and  his  company  dyd  resist  them,  and  moreover  hudded  them 
with  their  gownes  over  their  heads,  and  by  force  brought 
them  (doe  what  they  could)  into  the  market  place.  The 
like  was  done  also  in  the  Kings  palace,  where  Marcus 
Valerius  founde  other  letters  also  wrapt  up  in  certaine  far- 
dells  for  their  more  safe  cariage,  and  brought  away  with  him 
by  force  into  the  market  place,  all  the  Kings  servaunts  he 
founde  there.  There  the  Consuls  having  caused  silence  to 
be  made,  Valerius  sent  home  to  his  house  for  this  bondman 
Vindicius,  to  be  brought  before  the  Consuls :  then  the  tray- 
tours  were  openly  accused,  and  their  letters  redde,  and  they 
had  not  the  face  to  aunswer  one  worde.  All  that  were 
present,  being  amazed,  honge  downe  their  heades,  and  be- 
helde  the  grounde,  and  not  a  man  durst  once  open  his 
mouth  to  speake,  excepting  a  fewe,  who  to  gratifie  Brutus, 
beganne  to  say  that  they  should  banishe  them :  and  Colla- 
tinus  also  gave  them  some  hope,  bicause  he  fell  to  weeping, 
and  Valerius  in  like  manner  for  that  he  held  his  peace.  But 
Brutus  calling  his  sonnes  by  their  names :  Come  on  (sayed 
he)  Titus,  and  thou  Valerius,  why  doe  you  not  aunswer  to 
that  you  are  accused  of?  and  having  spoken  thryse  unto 
them  to  aunswer,  when  he  sawe  they  stoode  mute,  and  sayed 
nothing :  he  turned  him  to  the  sergeants,  and  sayed  unto 
them  :  They  are  nowe  in  your  handes,  doe  justice.  So  soone 
as  he  had  spoken  these  wordes,  the  sergeants  layed  holde 
immediately  upon  the  two  young  men,  and  tearing  their 
clothes  of  their  backs,  bounde  their  hands  behinde  them, 
and  then  whipped  them  with  roddes :  which  was  such  a 
pittiefull  sight  to  all  the  people,  that  they  could  not  finde 
in  their  hartes  to  behold  it,  but  turned  them  selves  another 
waye,  bicause  they  would  not  see  it.  But  contrariwise,  they 
saye  that  their  owne  father  had  never  his  eye  of  them, 
neither  dyd  chaunge  his  austere  and  fierce  countenaunce, 
with  any  pittie  or  naturall  affection  towards  them,  but  sted- 
fastly  dyd  beholde  the  punishement  of  his  owne  children, 
254 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

untill  they  were  layed  flat  on  the  grouiide,  and  both  their  PUBLICOLA 
heads  striken  of  with  an  axe  before  him.     When  they  were 
executed,  Brutus  rose  from  the  benche,  and  left  the  execu- 
tion of  the  rest  unto  his  fellowe  Consul.    This  was  such  an  Brutus, 
acte,  as  men  cannot  sufficiently  prayse,  nor  reprove  enough,  praised  and 
For  either  it  was  his  excellent  vertue,  that  made  his  minde  rfP^?^^A^*^J 
so  quiet,  or  els  the  greatnes  of  his  miserie  that  tooke  awaye  ^^^  sonnes 
the  feeling  of  his  sorowe  :  whereof  neither  the  one  nor  the 
other  was  any  small  matter,  but  passing  the  common  nature 
of  man,  that  hath  in  it  both  divinenes,  and  somtime  beastly 
brutishnes.     But  it  is  better  the  judgement  of  men  should 
commend    his   fame,   then    that   the  affection    of   men  by 
their  judgements   should    diminishe   his    vertue.     For   the 
Romaines  holde  opinion,  it  was  not  so  great  an  acte  done  of 
Romulus  first  to  build  Rome :    as  it  was   for    Brutus   to 
recover  Rome,  and  the  best  libertie  thereof,  and  to  renewe 
the  auncient  government  of  the  same.     When  Brutus  was 
gone,  all  the  people  in  the  market  place  remained  as  they 
had  bene  in  a  maze,  full  of  feare  and  wounder,  and  a  great 
while  without  speaking  to  see  what  was  done.   The  Aquilians 
straight  grew  bold,  for  that  they  sawe  the  other  Consull 
Collatinus  proceede  gently,  and  mildly  against  them  :  and  Collatinus 
so  made  petition  they   might  have  time   geuen   them   to  softnes 
aunswer  to  the  articles  they  were  accused  of,  and  that  they  P6"^ous. 
might  have  their  slave  and  bondman  Vindicius   delivered 
into  their  handes,  bicause  there  was  no  reason  he  should 
remaine  with  their  accusers.     The  Consul  seemed  willing 
to  yeld  thereto,  and  was  ready  to  breake  up  the  assembly 
thereupon.     But  Valerius  sayed,  he  would  not  deliver  Vin- 
dicius (who  was  among  the  assembly  that  attended  upon  his 
persone)  and  stayed  the  people  besides  for  departing  awaye, 
least  they  should  negligently  let  those  escape  that  had  so 
wickedly  sought  to  betraye  their  countrie.     Untill  he  him 
selfe  had  layed  handes  upon  them,  calling  upon  Brutus  to 
assist  him,  with  open  exclamation  against  Collatinus,  that  Valerius 
he  dyd  not  behave  him  selfe  like  a  just  and  true  man,  seeing  boldly  ap- 
his fellowe  Brutus  was  forced  for  justice  sake  to  see  his  owne  peacheth 
sonnes  put  to  death  :  and  he  in  contrary  manner,  to  please  a  of  jn^ust^ce 
fewe  women,  sought  to  let  goe  manifest  traitours,  and  open 

255 


LIVES    OF   THE   NOBLE 

PUBLICOLA  enemies  to  their  countrie.  The  Consul  being  offended  here- 
>vith,  commaunded  they  should  bring  awaye  the  bondman 
Vindicius.  So  the  sergeants  making  waye  through  the 
prease,  layed  handes  upon  him  to  bring  him  awaye  with 
them,  and  beganne  to  strike  at  them  which  offered  to  resist 
them.  But  Valerius  friends  stept  out  before  them,  and  put 
them  by.  The  people  showted  straight,  and  cried  out  for 
Brutus  :  who  with  this  noyse  returned  againe  into  the  market 
place,  and  after  silence  made  him,  he  spake  in  this  wise.  For 
mine  own  children,  I  alone  have  bene  their  sufficient  judg, 
to  see  them  have  the  law  according  to  their  deservings  :  the 
rest  I  have  left  freely  to  the  judgment  of  the  people. 
Wherefore  (sayed  he)  if  any  man  be  disposed  to  speake,  let 
him  stand  up,  and  persuade  the  people  as  he  thinketh  best. 
Then  there  needed  no  more  wordes,  but  only  to  hearken 
what  the  people  cried  :  who  with  one  voyce  and  consent 
condemned  them,  and  cried  execution,  and  accordingly  they 
had  their  heades  striken  of.  Now  was  Consull  Collatinus 
long  before  had  in  some  suspition,  as  allied  to  the  Kings, 
and  disliked  for  his  surname,  bicause  he  was  called  Tar- 
quinius :  who  perceyving  him  selfe  in  this  case  much  hated 
Collatinus  and  mistrusted  of  the  people,  voluntarely  y elded  up  his 
resigneth  his  Consulshippe,  and  departed  the  cittie.  The  people  as- 
**dT  rt^th  s^'^^li"g  then  them  selves,  to  place  a  successour  in  his 
Rome.  roome :    they   chose   Valerius    in    his    roome,    without   the 

,j  ,    .  contradiction    of  any,    for  his   faithfull  travaill   and   dili- 

chosen  Consul  g^nce  bestowed  in  this  great  matter.     Then  Valerius  judg- 
in  his  place,     ing  that  Vindicius   the   bondman   had  well  deserved  also 
some    recompence,  caused  him   not  only  to  be  manumised 
by   the   whole   graunte   of  the  people,   but   made   him   a 
Vindicius  the  free  man  of  the  cittie  besides :  and  he  was  the  first  bond- 
first  bondman  j^^n  manumised,  that  was  made  cittizen  of  Rome,  with  per- 
manumise  .      mission  also  to  geve  his  voyce  in  all  elections  of  officers, 
in  any  company  or  tribe  he  would  be  enrolled  in.     Long 
time  after  that,  and  very  lately,  Appius  to  currie  favour 
with   the   common   people,   made   it   lawfull   for   bondmen 
manumised,  to  geve  their  voyces  also  in  elections,  as  other 
cittizens  dyd :  and  unto  this  daye  the  perfect  manumising 
and  freeing  of  bondmen,  is  called  Vindicta,  after  the  name 
256 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

of  this  Vindicius,  that  was  then  made  a  free  man.     These  PUBLICOLA 
things  thus  passed  over,  the  goodes  of  the  Kings  were  geven  Vindicta  so 
to  the  spoyle  of  the  people,  and  their  palaces  were  rased  called,  by 
and  overthrowen.    Nowe  amongest  other  lands,  the  goodliest  '"^ason  of 
parte  of  the  field  of  Mars  was  belonging  unto  king  Tarquine  :     I'^Qicius. 
the  same  they  consecrated  forthwith  unto  the  god  Mars,  and  Tarquines 
not  long  before  they  had  cut  downe  the  wheat  thereof.    The  field  conse- 
sheaves  being  yet  in  shocks  in  the  field,  they  thought  they  ^^*^^  *^ 
might  not  grinde  the  wheate,  nor  make  any  commoditie  of  the      ^^^' 
profit  thereof :  wherefore  they  threwe  both  corne  and  sheaves 
mto  the  river,  and  trees  also  which  they  had  hewen  downe 
and  rooted  up,  to  the  end  that  the  field  being  dedicated  to 
the  god  Mars,  should  be  left  bare,  without  bearing  any 
fruite  at  all.     These  sheaves  thus  throw  en  into  the  river, 
were  caried  down  by  the  streame  not  farre  from  thence,  unto 
a  forde  and  shallowe  place  of  the  water,  where  they  first  dyd 
staye,  and  dyd  let  the  other  which  came  after,  that  it  could 
goe  no  further :  there  these  heapes  gathered  together,  and 
laye  so  close  one  to  another,  that  they  beganne  to  sincke 
and  settle  fast  in  the  water.     Afterwards  the  streame  of  the 
river  brought  downe  continually  such  mudde  and  gravell, 
that  it  ever  increased  the  heape  of  corne  more  and  more  in 
suche  sorte,  that  the  force  of  the  water  could  no  more  remove 
it  from  thence,  but  rather  softly  pressing  and  driving  it 
together,  dyd  firme  and  harden  it,  and  made  it  growe  so  to 
lande.     Thus  this  heape  rising  still  in  greatnes  and  firmenes, 
by  reason  that  all  that  came  downe  the  river  stayed  there,  it 
grewe  in  the  ende,  and  by  time  to  spread  so  farre,  that  at 
this  daye  it  is  called  the  holy  Ilande  in  Rome :  in  which  are  ^Fhereof  the 
many  goodly  temples  of  divers  goddes,  and  sundry  walkes  holy  Ilaud 
about  it,  and  they  call  it  in  Latine,  Inter  duos  pontes :  in  Vf '"®  "\^, 
our  tongue,  '  betweene  the  two  bridges.'     Yet  some  Avrite,  lieth  betwene 
that  this  thing  fell  not  out  at  that  time  when  the  field  of  the  both  bridges. 
Tarquines  was  consecrated  unto  Mars  :  but  that  it  happened 
afterwardes,  when  one  of  the  Vestall  Nunnes,  called  Tar- 
quinia,  gave  a  field  of  hers  unto  the  people,  which  was  hard 
adjoyning  unto  Tarquines  field.     For  which  liberalitie  and 
bowntie  of  hers,  they  dyd  graunte  her  in  recompense  many 
priviledges,  and  dyd  her  great  honour  besides.    As  amongest 
2K  257 


PUBLICOLA 


Tarquine 
commeth  with 
a  great  power 
of  the  Thus- 
cans  to  wage 
battel  1  with 
theRomaines. 
Arsia  silva. 

Aruns  and 
Brutus  en- 
countered, 
and  slue  eche 
other. 


LIVES   OF   THE    NOBLE 

others,  it  was  ordeined,  that  her  word  and  witnes  should 
stand  good,  and  be  allowed,  in  matters  judiciall :  which 
priviledge,  never  woman  besides  her  self  dyd  enjoy e.  By 
speciall  grace  of  the  people  also,  it  was  graunted  her,  that 
she  might  marie  if  she  thought  it  good :  but  yet  she  would 
not  accept  the  benefit  of  that  offer.  Thus  you  heare  the 
reporte  how  this  thing  happened.  Tarquinius  then  being 
past  hope  of  ever  entring  into  his  Kingdome  againe,  went 
yet  unto  the  Thuscans  for  succour,  which  were  very  glad  of 
him :  and  so  they  leavied  a  great  armie  together,  hoping  to 
have  put  him  in  his  Kingdome  againe.  The  Consuls  also 
hearing  thereof,  went  out  with  their  armie  against  him. 
Both  the  armies  presented  them  selves  in  battell  raye,  one 
against  another,  in  the  holy  places  consecrated  to  the  goddes: 
wherof  the  one  was  called  the  wodde  Arsia,  and  the  other 
the  meadowe  ^Esuvia.  And  as  both  armies  beganne  to  geve 
charge  upon  eche  other,  Aruns  the  eldest  sonne  of  king 
Tarquine,  and  the  Consul  Brutus  encountered  together,  not 
by  chaunce,  but  sought  for  of  set  purpose  to  execute  the 
deadly  fode  and  malice  they  dyd  beare  cache  other.  The 
one,  as  against  a  tyrante  and  enemie  of  the  libertie  of  his 
countrie :  the  other,  as  against  him  that  had  bene  chief 
authour  and  worker  of  their  exile  and  expulsion.  So  they 
set  spurres  to  their  horses,  so  soone  as  they  had  spyed  eche 
other,  with  more  fury  then  reason,  and  fought  so  desperately 
together,  that  they  both  fell  starke  dead  to  the  ground. 
The  first  onset  of  the  battell  being  so  cruell,  the  end  thereof 
was  no  lesse  bloudy  :  untill  both  the  armies  having  receyved 
and  done  like  damage  to  eche  other,  were  parted  by  a 
marvelous  great  tempest  that  fell  upon  them.  Nowe  was 
Valerius  marvelously  perplexed,  for  that  he  knewe  not  which 
of  them  wanne  the  field  that  daye :  seeing  his  souldiers  as 
sorowfull  for  the  great  losse  of  their  men  lying  dead  before 
them,  as  they  were  glad  of  the  slaughter  and  victorie  of  their 
enemies.  For,  to  viewe  the  multitude  of  the  slaine  bodies  of 
either  side,  the  number  was  so  equall  in  sight,  that  it  was 
very  hard  to  judge,  of  which  side  fell  out  the  greatest 
slaughter :  so  that  both  the  one  and  the  other  viewing  by 
the  eye  the  remaine  of  their  campe,  were  persuaded  in  their 
258 


■ 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

opinion,  that  they  had  rather  lost  then  wonne,  conjecturing  PUBLICOLA 
a  farre  of  the  fall  of  their  enemies.     The  night  being  come, 
such  things  fell  out,  as  maye  be  looked  for  after  so  terrible  a 
battell.     For  when  both  campes  were  all  layed  to  rest,  they 
saye  the  wodde  wherein  they  laye  incamped,  quaked  and 
trembled  :  and  they  heard  a  voyce  saye,  that  onely  one  man 
more  was  slaine  on  the  Thuscans  side,  than  on  the  Romaines  The  victory  ol 
parte.     Out  of  doubt  this  was  some  voyce  from  heaven  :  for  the  Romaines 
the  Romaines  thereupon  gave  a  shrill  showte,  as  those  whose  xhuscans 
hartes  receyved  a  newe  quickening  spirite  or  corage.     The 
Thuscans  on  the  contrarie  parte  were  so  afFrayed,  that  the 
most  parte  of  them  stole  out  of  the  campe,  and  scattered  here 
and  there :  and  there  remained  behind  about  the  number  of 
five  thousand  men,  whom  the  Romaines  tooke  prisoners  every 
one,  and  had  the  spoile  of  their  campe.     The  carkasses  were 
viewed  afterwards,  and  they  found  that  there  were  slaine  in 
that   battell,  eleven   thousand   and   three   hundred  of  the 
Thuscans  :  and  of  the  Romaines,  so  many  saving  one.     This 
battell  was  fought  (as  they  saye)  the  last  daye  of  Februarie, 
and  the  Consul  Valerius  triumphed,  being  the  first  of  the  Valerius  the 
Consuls  that  ever  entered  into  Rome  triumphing:  upon  a  ",*'^*  Consul 
charet  drawen  with  foure  horses,  which  sight  the  people  +riumDhed 
found    honorable    and    goodly   to    beholde,   and   were   not  upon  a 
offended  withall  (as  some  seeme  to  reporte)  nor  yet  dyd  envy  charret. 
him  for  that  he  beganne  it.      For  if  it  had  bene  so,  that 
custome  had  not  bene  followed  with  so  good  acceptation, 
nor  had  continued  so  many  yeres  as  it  dyd  afterwards.    They 
much  commended  also  the  honour  he  dyd  to  his  fellowe 
Consul  Brutus,  in  setting  out  his  funeralles  and  obsequies, 
at  the  which  he  made  a  funerall  oration  in  his  praise.     They  The  first  be- 
did  so  like  and  please  the  Romaines,  that  they  have  ever  ginning  of 
since  continued  that  custome  at  the  buriall  of  any  noble  f^^'i^'"^^!  o'"^- 
man,  or  great  personage,  that  he  is  openly  praised  at  his  the  Romaines. 
buriall,  by  the   worthiest   man   that   liveth   among   them. 
They  reporte  this  funerall  oration  is  farre  more  auncient 
then  the  first,  that  was  made  in  Grece  in  the  like  case :  onles 
they  will  confirme  that  which  the  orator  Anaximenes  hath 
written,  that  the   manner   of  praising   the    dead   at   their 
funeralls,  was  first  of  all  instituted  by  Solon.     But  they  dyd 

^59 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

PUBLICOLA  most  envye  Valerius,  and  beare  him  grudge,  bicause  Brutus 

Anaximenes     (whom    the   people    did   acknowledge   for    father    of    their 

sayeth,  Solon  libertie)  would  never  be  alone  in  office,  but  had  procured 

was  the  first     twise,  that  they  should  appoint  Valerius  fellowe  Consul  with 

^ra^sef for*^*^  him.     This  man  in  contrariwise  (sayed  the  people)  taking 

the  dead.  upon  him  alone  the  rule  and  soveraintie,  sheweth  plainely  he 

will  not  be  Brutus  successour  in  his  Consulshippe,  but  Tar- 

quinius  self  in  the  Kingdome.     For  to  great  purpose  was  it 

to  praise  Brutus  in  wordes,  and  to  followe  Tarquinius  in 

deedes :  having  borne  before  him  selfe  only  all  the  mases, 

the  axes  and  the  roddes,  when  he  cometh  abroade  out  of  his 

owne  house,  which  is  farre  greater,  and  more  stately,  then 

the  Kings  palace  which  he  him  self  overthrewe.     And  to 

Valerius  saye  truely,  Valerius  dwelt  in  a  house  a  litle  to  sumptuously 

stately  house    built  and  seated,  upon  the  hanging  of  the  hill  called  mount 

^uut°Velia     Velia:   and  bicause  it  stoode  highe,  it  overlooked  all  the 

market  place,  so  that  any  man  might  easely  see  from  thence 

what  was  done  there.     Furthermore,  it  was  very  ill  to  come 

to  it :  but  when  he  came  out  of  his  house,  it  was  a  marvelous 

pompe  and  state  to  see  him  come  downe  from  so  highe  a 

place,  and  with  a  traine  after  him,  that  caried  the  majestic 

Valerius  a        of  a  Kings  courte.     But  herein  Valerius  left  a  noble  example, 

good  example  shewing  howe  much  it  importeth  a  noble  man  and  magistrate, 

trates^'''        I'uling  weighty  causes,  to  have  his  eares  open  to  heare,  and 

willingly  to  receyve  free  speache  in  steade  of  flatteries,  and 

playne  trothe  in  place  of  lyes.     For,  being   enformed  by 

some  of  his  friends  how  the  people  misliked  and  complained 

of  it,  he  stoode  not  in  his  owne  conceit,  neither  was  angrie 

with  them  :  but  forthwith  set  a  worlde  of  workmen  upon  it, 

earely  in   the  morning  before   breake  of  daye,  and   com- 

Valerius  maunded  them  to  plucke  down  his  house,  and  to  rase  it  to 

overthrew  his  the  ground.     Insomuch  as  the  next  day  following,  when  the 

s   te  y    ouse.  j^omaines  were  gathered  together  in  the  market  place,  and 

sawe  this  great  sodaine  mine,  they  much  commended  the 

noble  acte  and  minde  of  Valerius,  in  doing  that  he  dyd :  but 

so  were  they  angrie,  and  sorie  both,  to  see  so  fayer  and 

stately  a  buylt  house  (which  was  an  ornament  to  the  cittie) 

overthrowen  upon  a  sodaine.     Much  like  in  comparison  to  a 

man,  whom  through  spite  and  en  vie  they  had  unjustly  put 

260 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

to   death :   and  to  see  their   chief  magistrate   also   Hke  a  PUBLICOLA 
straunger  and  a  vacabonde,  compelled  to  seeke  his  lodging 
in  another  mans  house.     For  his  friends  receyved  him  into 
their  houses,  untill  such  time  as  the  people  had  geven  him  a 
place,  where  they  dyd  build  him  a  newe  house,  farre  more 
orderly,  and  nothing  so  stately  and  curious  as  the  first  was, 
and  it  was  in  the  same  place,  where  the  temple  called  Vicus  The  temple 
Publicus  standeth  at  this  daye.     Now  bi cause  he  would  not  called  Vicus 
only  reforme  his  pei-sone,  but  the  office  of  his  Consulshippe,  Publicus. 
and  also  would  frame  him  selfe  to  the  good  acceptation  and 
liking  of  the  people :  where  before  he  seemed  unto  them  to 
be  fearefull,  he  put  awaye  the  carying  of  the  axes  from  the 
roddes,  which  the  sergeants  used  to  beare  before  the  Consul. 
Moreover  when  he  came  into  the  market  place,  where  the 
people  were  assembled,  he  caused  the  roddes  to  be  borne 
downewardes,  as   in    token   of  reverence    of  the    soveraine 
majestie  of  the  people :    which  all  the  magistrates  observe 
yet  at  this  daye.     Nowe  in  all  this  humble  showe  and  lowli- 
nes  of  his,  he  dyd  not   so  much  imbase  his  dignitie  and 
greatnes,  which  the  common  people  thought  him  to  have  at 
the  first :  as  he  dyd  thereby  cut  of  envie  from  him,  winning 
againe  as  much  true  authoritie,  as  in  semblaunce  he  would 
seeme  to  have  lost.     For  this  made  the  people  willinger  to 
obey,  and  readier  to  submit  them  selves  unto  him :  insomuch 
as  upon  this  occasion  he  was  surnamed  Publicola,  as  much  to  Why  Valerius 
saye,  as  the  people  pleaser.     Which  surname  he  kept  ever  was  surnamed 
after,  and  we  from  henceforth  also  writing  the  rest  of  his  Publicola. 
life,  will  use  no  other  name :  for  he  was  contented  to  suffer 
any  man  that  would,  to  offer  him  selfe  to  aske  the  Consul- 
shippe in  Brutus  place.     But   he   yet   not    knowing   what 
kynde  of  man  they  would  joyne  fellowe  Consul  with  him,  and 
fearing  least  through  envie  or  ignoraunce,  the  party  might 
thwart  his  purpose  and  meaning :  employed  his  sole  power 
and  authoritie  whilest  he  ruled  alone,  upon  highe  and  noble 
attempts.     For  first  of  all  he  supplied  up  the  number  of  Publicolaes 
Senatours  that  were  greatly  decayed,  bicause  king  Tarquine  actes  and 
had  put  some  of  them  to  death  not  long  before,  and  other  ^^^''^^• 
also  had  bene  lately  slaine  in  the  warres :  in  whose  places  he 
had  chosen  newe  Senatours,  to  the  number  of  a  hundred 

'261 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

PUBLICOLA  three  score  and  foure.  After  that,  he  made  newe  decrees 
and  lawes,  which  greatly  dyd  advaunce  the  authoritie  of  the 
people.  The  first  lawe  gave  libertie  to  all  ofFendours,  con- 
demned by  judgement  of  the  Consuls,  to  appeale  unto  the 
people.  The  second,  that  no  man  upon  payne  of  death 
should  take  upon  him  the  exercise  of  any  office,  unles  he  had 
come  unto  it  by  the  gifte  of  the  people.  The  third  was, 
and  all  in  favour  of  the  poore,  that  the  poore  cittizens  of 
Rome  should  paye  no  more  custome,  nor  any  impost  whatso- 
ever. This  made  every  man  the  more  willing  to  geve  him 
selfe  to  some  crafte  or  occupation,  when  he  sawe  his  travaill 
should  not  be  taxed,  nor  taken  from  him.  As  for  the  law 
that  he  made  against  those  that  disobeyed  the  Consuls,  it 
was  founde  to  be  so  favorable  to  the  communaltie,  as  they 
thought  it  was  rather  made  for  the  poore,  than  for  the  riche 
and  great  men.  For  the  ofFendours  and  breakers  of  that 
lawe,  were  condemned  to  paye  for  a  penaltie,  the  value  of 
five  oxen,  and  two  muttons.  The  price  of  a  mutton  was 
then,  tenne  oboles,  and  of  an  oxe,  a  hundred  oboles.  For 
in  those  dayes,  the  Romaines  had  no  store  of  coined  mony, 
otherwise,  they  lacked  no  sheepe,  nor  other  rother  beasts. 
Hereof  it  came,  that  to  this  daye  they  call  their  riches  or 
substaunce,  Peculium,  bicause  Pecus  signifieth  sheepe  and 
muttons.  And  in  the  olde  time  the  stampe  upon  their 
money  was  an  oxe,  a  mutton,  or  a  hogge :  and  some  of  them 
called  their  children  Biibulci,  which  signifieth  cowheards : 
others  Caprarii^  to  saye  goateheards :  and  others  Porcii, 
as  you  would  saye,  swineheardes.  Nowe  though  in  all  his 
other  lawes,  he  was  very  favorable  and  temperate  toward  the 
people:  yet  in  that  moderation,  somtimes  he  dyd  set  gi-ievous 
paynes  and  punishements.  For  he  made  it  lawfull  to  kill 
any  man  without  any  accusation,  that  dyd  aspire  to  the 
Kingdome,  and  he  dyd  set  the  murderer  free  of  all  punishe- 
ment :  so  he  brought  forth  manifest  proofe,  that  the  party 
slaine,  had  practised  to  make  him  selfe  King.  As  being- 
impossible  a  man  should  pretend  so  great  a  matter,  and  no 
man  should  finde  it :  and  contrariwise  being  possible,  albeit 
he  were  spyed,  that  otherwise  he  might  attempt  it,  by 
making  him  selfe  so  strong,  that  he  needed  not  passe  for  the 
262 


Whereof 
Peculium 
was  called. 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

law.     In  this  case  he  gave  every  man  libcrtic  by  such  actc  PUBLICOLA 
or  raeanc,  to  prevent  him  if  he  could  of  discretion :  who  by 
strength  otherwise  sought  to  aspire  to  reigne.     They  greatly 
commended  him  also  for  the  lawe  that  he  made  touching  the 
treasure.      For   being   very   necessarie   that   everie   private 
cittizen  should  according  to  his  abilitie,  be  contributer  to 
the  charges  and  maintenaunce  of  the  warres :    he  him  self 
would  neither  take  such  collection  into  his  charge,  nor  suffer 
any  man  of  his  to  medle  with  the  same,  nor  yet  that  it 
should  be  layed  in  any  private  mans  house,  but  he  dyd 
ordeine  that  Saturnes  temple  should  be  the  treasurie  thereof. 
This  order  they  keepe  to  this  present  daye.     Furthermore, 
he  graunted  the  people  to  chuse  two  young  men  Qucestores  The  first 
of  the  same,  as  you  would  saye  the  treasurers,  to  take  the  Qutestores. 
charge  of  this  money  :  and  the  two  first  which  were  chosen, 
were  Publius  Veturius,  and  Marcus  Minutius,  who  gathered  Publius 
great  summes  of  money  together.     For  numbnng  the  people  Veturius, 
by   the    polle,   there    were   found   a    hundred    and    thirtie  ?^t^'^*'".- 
thousand  persones  which  had  payed  subsidie,  not  reckoning 
in  this  accompt,  orphanes,  nor  widowes,  which  were  excepted 
from  all  payments.    After  he  had  established  all  these  things, 
he  caused  Lucretius  (the  father  of  Lucretia)  to  be  chosen  Lucretius 
fellowe  Consul  with  him,  unto  whom,  for  that  he  was  his  and  Publicola 
auncient,  he  gave  the  upper  hande,  and  commaunded  they  Consuls, 
should  carie  before  him  the  roddes,  which  were  the  signes  of 
the  chief  magistrate :  and  ever  since  they  have  geven  this 
honour  unto  age.     But  Lucretius  dying  not  long  after  his 
election,  they  chose  againe  in  his  place  Marcus  Horatius,  Publicola  and 
who  held  out  the  Consulshippe  with  Publicola  the  rest  of  Marcus  Hora- 
the  yere.    Nowe  about  that  time  king  Tarquine  remained  in  *^"^  Consuls, 
the  countrie  of  Thuscane,  where  he  prepared  a  seconde  armie 
against  the  Romaines,  and  there  fell  out  a  marvelous  straunge 
thing  thereupon.     For  when  he  raigned  king  of  Rome,  he 
had  almost  made  an  ende  of  the  building  of  the  temple  of 
lupiter  Capitolin,  and  was  determined  (whether  by  any  oracle 
receyved,  or  upon  any  fantasy  it  is  not  knowen)  to  set  up  a 
coche  of  earth  baked  by  a  potter,  in  the  highest  place  of  the 
temple,  and  he  put  it  out  to  be  done  by  certaine  Thuscan 
workemen  of  the  cittie  of  Veies :  but  whilest  they  were  in 

263 


LIVES    OF    THE    NOBLE 

PUBLICOLA  hand  with  the  worcke,  he  was  driven  out  of  his  Realme. 
When  the  worckemen  had  formed  this  coche,  and  that  they 
had  put  it  into  the  foumes  to  bake  it,  it  fell  out  contrarie 
to  the  nature  of  the  earth,  and  the  common  order  of  their 
worcke  put  into  the  foumes.  For  the  earth  dyd  not  shut 
and  close  together  in  the  fire,  nor  dryed  up  all  the  moisture 
thereof:  but  rather  to  the  contrarie  it  dyd  swell  to  such  a 
bignes,  and  grewe  so  harde  and  strong  withall,  that  they 
were  driven  to  breake  up  the  head  and  walles  of  the  foumes 
to  get  it  out.  The  soothesayers  dyd  expounde  this,  that  it 
was  a  celestiall  token  from  above,  and  promised  great  pro- 
speritie  and  increase  of  power  unto  those,  that  should  enjoye 
this  coche.  Whereupon  the  Veians  resolved  not  to  deliver  it 
unto  the  Romaines  that  demaunded  it,  but  aunswered  that 
it  dyd  belong  unto  king  Tarquine,  and  not  unto  those  that 
had  banished  him.  Not  many  dayes  after,  there  was  a 
solemne  feast  of  games  for  running  of  horses  in  the  cittie  of 
Veies,  where  they  dyd  also  many  other  notable  actes,  worthy 
sight  according  to  their  custome.  But  after  the  game  was 
played,  he  that  had  wonne  the  bell,  being  cro%\-ned  in  token 
of  victorie  as  they  dyd  use  at  that  time,  brought  his  coche 
and  horses  fayer  and  softely  out  of  the  showe  place :  and 
sodainely  the  horse  being  aft'rayed  upon  no  present  cause  or 
occasion  seene,  whether  it  was  by  chaunce,  or  by  some  secret 
working  from  above,  ranne  as  they  had  bene  mad  with  their 
coche  to  the  cittie  of  Rome.  The  coche  driver  dyd  what  he 
could  possible  at  the  first  to  staye  them,  by  holding  in  the 
raynes,  by  clapping  them  on  the  backs,  and  speaking  gently 
to  them :  but  in  the  ende,  perceyving  he  could  doe  no  good, 
and  that  they  would  have  their  swynge,  he  gave  place  to 
their  furie,  and  they  never  linne  ronning,  till  they  brought 
him  neere  to  the  Capitoll,  where  they  overthrewe  him  and 
his  coche,  not  farre  from  the  gate  called  at  this  present, 
Ratumena.  The  Veians  woundering  much  at  this  matter, 
and  being  affrayed  withall :  were  contented  the  workmen 
should  deliver  their  coche  made  of  earth  unto  the  Romaines. 
Now  concerning  lupiter  Capitolins  temple,  king  Tarquine 
the  first  (which  was  the  sonne  of  Demaratus)  vowed  in  the 
waiTes  that  he  made  against  the  Sabynes,  that  he  would 
264 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

buyld  it.  And  Tcarquine  the  prowde,  being  the  sonne  of  PUBLICOLA 
him  that  made  this  vowe  dyd  buyld  it :  howbeit  he  dyd  not 
consecrate  it,  bicause  he  was  driven  out  of  his  Kingdome 
before  he  had  finished  it.  When  this  temple  was  built  and 
throughly  finished,  and  set  forth  with  all  his  ornaments : 
Publicola  was  marvelously  desirous  to  have  the  honour  of  the 
dedication  thereof.  But  the  noble  men  and  Senatours  envy- 
ing his  glorie,  being  very  angrie  that  he  could  not  content 
him  selfe  with  all  those  honours  that  he  had  receyved  in 
peace,  for  the  good  lawes  he  had  made,  and  in  warres  for 
the  victories  he  had  obteined  and  well  deserved,  but  further 
that  he  would  seeke  the  honour  of  this  dedication,  which 
nothing  dyd  pertaine  unto  him :  they  then  dyd  egge  Hora- 
tius,  and  persuaded  him  to  make  sute  for  the  same.  Occasion 
fell  out  at  that  time,  that  Publicola  must  have  the  leading 
of  the  Romaines  armie  into  the  field :  in  the  meane  time, 
while  Publicola  was  absent,  it  was  procured  that  the  people 
gave  their  voyces  to  Horatius,  to  consecrate  the  temple, 
knowing  they  could  not  so  well  have  brought  it  to  passe  he 
being  present.  Other  saye,  the  Consuls  drewe  lotts  betweene 
them,  and  that  it  lighted  upon  Publicola  to  leade  the  armie 
against  his  will,  and  upon  Horatius  to  consecrate  this  temple, 
which  maye  be  conjectured  by  the  thing  that  fortuned  in  the 
dedication  thereof.  For  all  the  people  being  assembled 
together  in  the  Capitoll  with  great  silence,  on  the  fiftenth 
daye  of  the  moneth  of  September,  which  is  about  the  newe 
moone  of  the  moneth  which  the  Grecians  call  Metagitnion : 
Horatius  having  done  all  the  ceremonies  needefull  in  suche  a 
case,  and  holding  then  the  doores  of  the  temple,  as  the  use 
was  even  to  utter  the  solemne  wordes  of  dedication  :  Marcus 
V'alerius,  the  brother  of  Publicola,  having  stoode  a  long  time 
there  at  the  temple  doore,  to  take  an  oportunitie  to  speake, 
beganne  to  say  alowde  in  this  wise  :  My  lorde  Consul,  your 
sonne  is  dead  of  a  sicknes  in  the  campe.  This  made  all  the 
assembly  sorie  to  heare  it,  but  it  nothing  amased  Horatius, 
who  spake  only  this  muche :  Cast  his  bodie  then  where  you 
will  for  me,  the  thought  is  taken.  So  he  continued  on  to 
ende  his  consecration.  This  was  but  a  devise  and  nothing 
true,  of  Marcus  Valerius,  only  to  make  Horatius  leave  of  his 
2L  265 


PUBLICOLA 


How  oft 
lupiter  Capi- 
tolins  temple 
•was  burnt  and 
built  againe. 


How  much 
was  spent  in 
building  the 
Capitoll. 


LIVES    OF   THE   NOBLE 

consecration.  Horatius  in  this  shewed  him  selfe  a  marvelous 
resolute  man,  were  it  that  he  streight  founde  his  devise,  or 
that  he  beleeved  it  to  be  true :  for  the  sodainenes  of  the 
matter  nothing  altered  him.  The  very  like  matter  fell  out  in 
consecrating  of  the  second  temple.  For  this  first  which 
Tarquine  had  built  and  Horatius  consecrated,  was  consumed 
by  fyer  in  the  civill  warres :  and  the  second  was  built  up 
againe  by  Sylla,  who  made  no  dedication  of  it.  For  Catulus 
set  up  the  superscription  of  the  dedication,  bicause  Sylla 
dyed  before  he  could  dedicate  it.  The  second  temple  was 
burnt  againe  not  long  after  the  troubles  and  tumultes 
which  were  at  Rome,  under  Vitellius  the  Emperour.  The 
third  in  like  manner  was  reedified  and  built  againe  by 
Vespasian,  from  the  ground  to  the  toppe.  But  this  good 
happe  he  had  above  other :  to  see  his  worke  perfited 
and  finished  before  his  death,  and  not  overthrowen  as  it 
was  immediately  after  his  death.  Wherein  he  dyd  farre 
passe  the  happines  of  Sylla,  who  dyed  before  he  could 
dedicate  that  he  had  built :  and  thother  deceased  before 
he  sawe  his  worcke  overthrowen.  For  all  the  Capitoll 
was  burnt  to  the  ground  incontinently  after  his  death. 
It  is  reported  the  only  foundations  of  the  first  temple, 
cost  Tarquinius  fortie  thousand  Pondos  of  silver.  And 
to  gyld  only  the  temple  which  we  see  nowe  in  our 
time,  they  saye  all  the  goodes  and  substaunce  that  the 
richest  cittizen  of  Rome  then  had,  will  come  nothing 
neere  unto  it :  for  it  cost  above  twelve  thousand  talents. 
The  pillers  of  this  temple  are  cut  out  of  a  quarrie  of 
marbell,  called  pentlike  marbell,  and  they  were  squared 
parpine,  as  thicke  as  long:  these  I  sawe  at  Athens.  But 
afterwardes  they  were  cut  againe,  and  polished  in  Rome, 
by  which  doing  they  got  not  so  much  grace,  as  they  lost 
proportion :  for  they  were  made  to  slender,  and  left  naked 
of  their  first  beawtie.  Nowe  he  that  would  wounder  at  the 
stately  buylding  of  the  Capitoll,  if  he  came  afterwardes  unto 
the  palace  Domitian,  and  dyd  but  see  some  galerie,  porche, 
hall,  or  hotte  house,  or  his  concubines  chambers  :  he  would 
saye  (in  my  opinion)  as  the  poet  Epicharmus  sayed  of  a 
prodigall  man : 
266 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

It  is  a  fault,  and  folly  both  in  thee  PUBLICOLA. 

to  lashe  out  giftes,  and  prodigall  rewardes  : 
For  fonde  delights,  without  all  rule  that  be, 

regarding  not  what  happens  afterwardes. 

So  might  they  justly  saye  of  Domitian.     Thou  art  not 
liberall,  nor  devoute  unto  the  goddes :  but  it  is  a  vice  thou 
hast  to  love  to  buyld,  and   desirest  (as  they  saye  of  olde  Domitians 
Midas)  that  all  about  thee  were  turned  to  gold,  and  precious  ^^^  building 
stones.     And  thus  much  for  this  matter,     Tarquine  after    ^"^'"'• 
that  great  foughten  battell  wherein  he  lost  his  sonne  (that 
was  slaine  by  Brutus  in  fighting  together  hande  to  hande) 
went  to  the  cittie  of  Clusium,  unto  king  Claras  Porsena : 
the  mightiest  prince  that  raigned  at  that  time  in  all  Italic, 
and  was  both  noble  and  a  curteous  prince.     Porsena  pro- 
mised him  ayde  :  and  first  of  all  he  sent  to  Rome  to  summone 
the  cittizens  to  receive  their  King  againe.    But  the  Romaines 
refusing  the  summones,  he  sent  forthwith  an  Heraulde  to  Porsena 
proclaime  open  warres  against  them,  and  to  tell  them  where,  proclaimeth 
and  when  he  would  meete  them  :  and  then  marched  thither-  ^^'''*®^  ^^*" 
wardes  immediatly  with  a   great  armie.      Publicola  nowe 
being  absent,  was  chosen  Consul  the  second  time,  and  Titus  Publicola  and 
Lucretius  with  him.     When  he  was  returned  home  againe  Titus  Lucre- 
to  Rome,  bicause  he  would  exceede  king  Porsena  in  greatnes  ^^^^  Consuls. 
of  minde,  he  beganne  to  buyld  a  cittie  called  Siglivria,  even 
when  the  King  with  all  his  armie  was  not  farre  from  Rome  : 
and  having  walled  it  about  to  his  marvelous  charge,  he  sent 
thither  seven  hundred  cittizens  to  dwell  there,  to  shewe  that 
he  made  litle  accompt  of  this  warre.     Howbeit  Porsena  at 
his  coming  dyd  geve  suche  a  lustie  assault  to  the  mount 
laniculum,  that  they  drave   out  the  souldiers  which  kept 
the  same  :  who  flying  towards  Rome,  were  pursued  so  harde 
with   the  enemies,  that  with   them  they  had    entered   the 
towne,  had  not  Publicola  made  a  saly  out  to  resist  them. 
Who  beganne  a  hotte  skirmishe  harde  by  the  river  of  Tyber, 
and  there  sought  to  have  stayed  the  enemies  to  follow  any 
further :  which  being  the  greater  number,  dyd  overlaye  the 
Romaines,  and  dyd  hurte  Publicola  very  sore  in  this  skirmishe, 
so  as  he  was  caried  away  into  the  cittie  in  his  souldiers  armes. 
And  even  so  was  the  other  Consul  Lucretius  hurte  in  like 

267 


PUBLICOLA  case 
they 


Horatius 
Codes  why 
so  called. 


Good  service 
rewarded. 


Publicola 
Consul. 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

:  which  so  discoraged  and  frayed  the  Romaines,  that 
all  tooke  them  to  their  legges,  and  fled  towards  the 
cittie.  The  enemies  pursued  them  at  their  heeles  as  farre 
as  the  wodden  bridge :  so  that  the  cittie  was  in  marvelous 
hazarde  of  taking  upon  the  sodaine.  But  Horatius  Codes, 
and  Herminius,  and  Lucretius,  two  other  of  the  chiefest 
noble  young  men  of  the  cittie,  stood  with  them  to  the 
defence  of  the  bridge,  and  made  head  against  the  enemie. 
This  Horatius  was  surnamed  Codes  (as  much  to  saye,  as  one 
eye)  bicause  he  had  lost  one  of  them  in  the  warres.  Howbeit 
other  writers  saye,  it  was  bicause  of  his  flat  nose  which  was 
so  soncke  into  his  head,  that  they  sawe  nothing  to  parte  his 
eyes,  but  that  the  eye  browes  dyd  meete  together :  by  reason 
whereof  the  people  thinking  to  surname  him  Cyclops,  by 
corruption  of  the  tongue  they  called  him  (as  they  saye) 
Codes.  But  howsoever  it  was,  this  Horatius  Codes  had  the 
courage  to  shew  his  face  against  the  enemie,  and  to  kepe 
the  bridge,  untill  such  time  as  they  had  cut  and  broken  it 
up  behind  him.  When  he  saw  they  had  done  that,  armed 
as  he  was,  and  hurte  in  the  hippe  with  a  Dike  of  the  Thuscans, 
he  leaped  into  the  river  of  Tyber,  and  saved  him  selfe  by 
swimming  unto  the  other  side.  Publicola  woundring  at  this 
manly  acte  of  his,  persuaded  tlie  Romaines  straight,  every 
one  according  to  his  abilitie,  to  give  him  so  much  as  he 
spent  in  a  daye :  and  afterwards  also  he  caused  the  common 
treasury  to  geve  him  as  much  lande  as  he  could  compasse 
about  with  his  plowe  in  a  daye.  Furthermore  he  made  his 
image  of  brasse  to  be  set  up  in  the  temple  of  Vulcane,  com- 
forting by  this  honour  his  wounded  hippe,  whereof  he  was 
lame  ever  after.  Nowe  whilest  king  Porsena  was  hottely 
bent,  very  straightly  to  besiege  Rome,  there  beganne  a 
famine  among  the  Romaines :  and  to  encrease  the  daunger, 
there  came  a  newe  armie  out  of  Thuscane,  which  overrane, 
burnt,  and  made  waste,  all  the  territorie  of  Rome.  Where- 
upon Publicola  being  chosen  Consul,  then  the  third  time, 
thought  he  should  neede  to  doe  no  more  to  resist  Porsena 
bravely,  but  to  be  quiet  only,  and  to  looke  well  to  the  safe 
keeping  of  the  cittie.  Howbeit  spying  his  oportunity,  he 
secretly  stole  out  of  Rome  with  a  power,  and  did  set  upon 
268 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

the  Thuscans  that  destroyed  the  countrie  about :  and  over-  PUBLICOLA 
threw  and  slue  of  them,  five  thousand  men.  As  for  the 
historie  of  Mutius,  many  doe  diversely  reporte  it :  but  I  will  The  noble 
write  it  in  such  sorte,  as  I  thincke  shall  best  agree  with  the  acte  of  Mutius 
trothe.  This  Mutius  was  a  worthie  man  in  all  respects,  but  ^^^^  ^' 
specially  for  the  warres.  He  devising  howe  he  might  come 
to  kill  king  Porsena,  disguised  him  selfe  in  Thuscans  apparell, 
and  speaking  Thuscan  very  perfectly,  went  into  his  campe, 
and  came  to  the  Kings  chayer,  in  the  which  he  gave  audi- 
ence:  and  not  knowing  him  perfectly,  he  durst  not  aske 
which  was  he,  least  he  should  be  discovered,  but  drue  his 
sworde  at  adventure,  and  slewe  him  whom  he  tooke  to  be 
King.  Upon  that  they  layed  holde  on  him,  and  examined 
him.  And  a  panne  full  of  fire  being  brought  for  the  King- 
that  entended  to  doe  sacrifice  unto  the  goddes,  Mutius  held 
out  his  right  hand  over  the  fire,  and  boldly  looking  the 
King  full  in  his  face,  whilest  the  flesh  of  his  hand  dyd  frye 
of,  he  never  chaunged  hewe  nor  contenaunce :  the  King 
woundering  to  see  so  straunge  a  sight,  called  to  them  to 
withdraw  the  fire,  and  he  him  selfe  dyd  deliver  him  his 
sworde  againe.  Mutius  tooke  it  of  him  with  his  left  hand, 
whereupon  they  saye  afterwardes,  he  had  geven  him  the 
surname  of  Scaevola,  as  much  to  saye,  as  left  handed,  and  How  Mutius 
told  him  in  taking  of  it :  Thou  couldest  not  Porsena  for  ^^"^^  ^^  ^^^ 
feare  have  overcomed  me,  but  nowe  through  curtesy  thou  Scevola 
hast  wonne  me.  Therefore  for  goodwill  I  will  reveale  that 
unto  thee,  which  no  force,  nor  extremitie  could  have  made 
me  utter.  There  are  three  hundred  Romaines  dispersed 
through  thy  campe,  all  which  are  prepared  with  like  mindes 
to  followe  that  I  have  begonne,  only  gaping  for  oportunitie 
to  put  it  in  practise.  The  lot  fell  on  me  to  be  the  first  to 
breake  the  Ise  of  this  enterprise :  and  yet  I  am  not  sorie  my 
hande  fayled,  to  kill  so  worthie  a  man,  that  deserveth  rather 
to  be  a  friend,  then  an  enemie  unto  the  Romaines.  Porsena 
hearing  this,  did  beleeve  it,  and  ever  after  he  gave  the  more 
\v'illing  eare  to  those  that  treated  with  hmi  of  peace :  not  so 
much  (in  my  opinion)  for  that  he  feared  the  three  hundred 
lying  in  waite  to  kill  him,  as  for  the  admiration  of  the 
Romaines  noble  minde  and  great  corage.     All  other  writers 

269 


PUBLICOLA 


Publicola 
maketh  Por- 
sena  judge, 
betwext  them 
and  the 
Tarquines. 


Peace 

graunted  the 
Romaines  by 
Porsena. 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

call  this  man,  Mutius  Scaevola :  howbeit  Athenodorus,  sur- 
named  Sandon,  in  a  booke  he  wrote  unto  Octavia,  Augustus 
sister,  sayeth  that  he  was  also  called  Opsigonus.  But 
Publicola  taking  king  Porsena  not  to  be  so  daungerous  an 
enemie  to  Rome,  as  he  should  be  a  profitable  friend  and 
allie  to  the  same  :  let  him  understand,  that  he  was  contented 
to  make  him  judge  of  the  controversie  betweene  them  and 
Tarquine.  \Vhom  he  dyd  many  times  provoke  to  come  and 
have  his  cause  heard  before  king  Porsena,  where  he  would 
justifie  to  his  face,  that  he  was  the  naughtiest  and  most 
wicked  man  of  the  world,  and  that  he  was  justly  driven  out 
of  his  countrie.  Tarquine  sharpely  aunswered,  that  he 
would  make  no  man  his  judge,  and  Porsena  least  of  all 
other,  for  that  havmg  promised  him  to  put  him  againe  in 
his  Kingdom,  he  was  nowe  gone  from  his  worde,  and  had 
chaunged  his  minde.  Porsena  was  very  angrie  with  this 
aunswer,  judging  this  a  manifest  token  that  his  cause  was 
ill.  Wherefore  Porsena  being  solicited  againe  by  his  owne 
Sonne  Aruns,  who  loved  the  Romaines,  dyd  easily  graunte 
them  peace  upon  condition :  that  they  should  redeliver 
backe  againe  to  him  the  lands  they  had  gotten  before 
within  the  countrie  of  Thuscan,  with  the  prisoners  also 
which  they  had  taken  in  this  warre,  and  in  liew  thereof  he 
offered  to  deliver  to  them  againe  the  Romaines,  that  had 
fled  from  them  unto  him.  To  confirme  this  peace,  the 
Romaines  delivered  him  ostages,  tenne  of  the  noblest  mens 
sonnes  of  the  cittie,  and  so  many  of  their  daughters  :  emong 
which,  was  Valeria,  Publicolaes  owne  daughter.  Peace  being 
thus  concluded,  Porsena  brake  his  armie,  and  withdrewe  his 
strength,  trusting  to  the  peace  concluded.  The  Romaines 
daughters  delivered  for  ostages,  came  downe  to  the  rivers 
side  to  washe  them,  in  a  quiet  place  where  the  streame  ranne 
but  gently,  without  any  force  or  swiftnes  at  all.  When  they 
were  there,  and  saw  they  had  no  garde  about  them,  nor  any 
came  that  waye,  nor  yet  any  botes  going  up  nor  down  the 
streame :  they  had  a  desire  to  swime  over  the  river,  which 
ranne  with  a  swift  streame,  and  was  marvelous  deepe.  Some 
saye,  that  one  Claslia  swamme  the  river  upon  her  horse  backe, 
and  that  she  did  imbolden  and  incorage  the  other  to  swimme 
270 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

harde  by  her  horse  side :  and  recovering  the  other  bancke,  PUBLICOLA 

and  being  past  all  daunger,  they  went  and  presented  them  Theboklenes 

selves  before  Publicola  the  Consul.    Who  neither  commended  of  Clselia 

them,  nor  liked  the  parte  they  had  played,  but  was  mar-  and  other 

velous  sorie,  fearing  least  men  would  iudge  him  lesse  carefull  ^o")^"^^ 

to  keepe  his  faith,  then  was   king  Porsena:    and  that  he       * 

might  suspect  the  boldnes  of  these  maidens,  was  but  a  crafty 

slight  devised  of  the  Romaines.     Therefore  he  tooke  them 

all  againe,  and  sent  them  immediatly  unto  king  Porsena. 

Whereof  Tarquine  having  intelligence,  he  layed  an  ambushe 

for  them,  that  had  the  conduction  of  them.     Who  so  soone 

as  they  were  paste  the  river,  did  shew  them  selves,  and  brake 

upon  the  Romaines  :  they  being  farre  fewer  in  number  than 

the  other,  did  yet  very  stowtely  defend  them  selves.     Now 

whilest  they  were  in  earnest  fight  together,  Valeria  Publi- 

colaes  daughter,  and  three  of  her  fathers  servants,  escaped 

through  the  middest  of  them,  and  saved  them  selves.     The 

residue  of  the  virgines  remained  in  the  middest  among  their 

swordes,  in  great  daunger  of  their  lives.    Aruns  king  Porsenas 

Sonne  advertised  hereof,  ranne  thither  incontinently  to  the 

rescue  :  but  when  he  came,  the  enemies  fled,  and  the  Romaines 

held  on  their  jorney  to  redeliver  their  ostages.     Porsena 

seeing  them  againe,  asked  which  of  them  it  was  that  beganne 

first  to  passe  the  river,  and  had  encouraged  the  other  to 

followe  her.     One  pointed  him  unto  her,  and  told  him  her 

name  was  Claelia.     He  looked  upon  her  very  earnestly,  and 

wdth  a  pleasaunt  countenaunce,  and  commaunded  they  should 

bring  him  one  of  his  best  horse  in  the  stable,  and  the  richest 

furniture  he  had  for  the  same,  and  so  he  gave  it  unto  her. 

Those  which  holde  opinion  that  none  but  Claelia  passed  the 

river  a  horse  backe,  doe  alledge  this  to  prove  their  opinion 

true.     Other  doe  denie  it,  saying  that  this  Thuscan  king, 

did  onely  honour  her  noble  courage.      Howsoever  it  was, 

they  see  her  image  a  horse  backe  in  the  holy  streete,  as  they 

goe  to  the  palace:  and  some  saye  it  is  the  statue  of  Valeria, 

other  of  Claelia.     After  Porsena  had  made  peace  with  the  The  liberalitle 

Romaines,  in  breaking  up  his  campe,  he  shewed  his  noble  of  king  Por- 

minde  unto  them  in  many  other  things,  and  specially  in  that  ^  "*  ^?  *^® 

he  commaunded  his  souldiers  they  should  carie  nothing  but     ""^^^"^^* 

an 


PUBLICOLA 


Marcus 

Valerius, 

Posthumius 

Tubertus 

Consuls. 

Marcus 
Valerius,  the 
brother  of 
Publicola, 
triumpheth 
of  the 
Sabynes. 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

their  armour  and  weapon  only,  leaving  his  campe  full  of 
corne,  vittells,  and  other  kynde  of  goodes.  From  whence 
this  custome  came,  that  at  this  daye  when  they  make  open 
sale  of  any  thing  belonging  to  the  common  weale,  the  ser- 
geant or  common  crier  crieth,  that  they  are  king  Porsenas 
goodes,  and  taken  of  thankefuUnes  and  perpetuall  memorie 
of  his  bowntie  and  liberalitie  towards  them.  Further, 
Porsenas  image  standeth  adjoyning  to  the  palace  where  the 
Senate  is  used  to  be  kept,  which  is  made  of  great  antike 
worke.  Afterwardes  the  Sabynes  invading  the  Romaines 
territorie  with  a  great  force,  Marcus  Valerius  Publicolaes 
brother,  was  then  chosen  Consul,  with  one  Posthumius 
Tubertus.  Howbeit  all  matters  of  weight  and  importaunce 
passed  by  Publicolaes  counsell  and  authoritie,  who  was 
present  at  any  thing  that  was  done :  and  by  whose  meanes 
Marcus  his  brother,  wanne  two  great  battells,  in  the  last 
whereof  he  slewe  thirteene  thousand  of  his  enemies,  not 
losing  one  of  his  owne  men.  For  which  his  victories,  besides 
the  honour  of  triumphe  he  had,  the  people  also  at  their 
owne  charges,  built  him  a  house,  in  the  streete  of  mounte 
Palatine,  and  graunted  him  moreover  that  his  doore  should 
open  outwards  into  the  streete,  where  all  others  mens  doores 
dyd  open  inwards  into  their  house :  signifying  by  graunte  of 
this  honour  and  priviledge,  that  he  should  allwayes  have 
benefit  by  the  common  weale.  It  is  reported  that  the 
Grecians  doores  of  their  houses  in  olde  time,  dyd  all  open 
outwards  after  that  facion,  and  they  doe  conjecture  it  by 
the  comedies  that  are  played.  Where  those  that  would  goe 
out  of  their  houses,  dyd  first  knocke  at  their  doores,  and 
make  a  noyse  within  the  house,  least  in  opening  their  doore 
upon  a  sodaine,  they  might  overthrowe  or  hurte  him  that 
taried  at  the  streete  doore,  or  passed  by  the  waye :  who 
hearing  the  noyse,  had  warning  straight  to  avoyde  the 
daunger.  The  next  yere  after  that,  Publicola  was  chosen 
Consul  the  fourth  time,  bicause  they  stoode  in  great  doubt 
that  the  Sabynes  and  Latines  would  joyne  together  to  make 
warres  upon  them :  besides  all  this,  there  was  a  certaine 
superstitious  feare  ranne  through  the  cittie,  of  some  ill 
happe  toward  it,  bicause  most  parte  of  the  women  with 
272 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

childe  were  delivered  of  unperfect  children,  lacking  some  PUBLICOLA 
one  limme  or  other,  and  all  of  them  came  before  their  time. 
Wherfore  Publicola  looking  in  some  of  Sybillaes  books, 
made  private  sacrifice  unto  Pluto,  and  did  set  up  againe 
some  feastes  and  solemne  games  that  were  left  of,  and  had 
bene  commaunded  before  time  to  be  kept  by  the  oracle  of 
Apollo,  These  meanes  having  a  litle  rejoyced  the  cittie 
with  good  hope,  bicause  they  thought  that  the  anger  of 
the  goddes  had  bene  appeased :  Publicola  then  beganne  to 
provide  for  the  daungers  that  they  were  threatned  with- 
all  by  men,  for  that  newes  was  brought  him  that  their 
enemies  were  up  in  all  places,  and  made  great  preparation 
to  invade  them.  Nowe  there  was  at  that  time  amongest 
the  Sabynes,  a  great  riche  man  called  Appius  Clausus,  very 
strong  and  active  of  bodie,  and  otherwise  a  man  of  great 
reputation  and  eloquence,  above  all  the  rest  of  his  countrie 
men :  but  notwithstanding,  he  was  much  envied,  and  could 
not  avoyde  it,  being  a  thing  common  to  great  men.  He 
went  about  to  staye  those  intended  waiTes  against  the 
Romaines.  Whereupon,  many  which  before  tooke  occasion 
to  murmure  against  him,  dyd  nowe  much  more  increase  the 
same :  with  saying  he  sought  to  mainteine  the  power  of  the 
Romaines,  that  afterwards  by  their  ayde  he  might  make  him 
selfe  tyranne  and  King  of  the  countrie.  The  common  people 
gave  easy  eare  unto  such  speaches,  and  Appius  perceyving 
well  enough  how  the  souldiers  hated  him  deadly,  he  feared 
they  would  complaine,  and  accuse  him.  Wherefore  being 
well  backed  and  stoode  to  by  his  kynsemen,  friends,  and 
followers,  he  practised  to  make  a  sturre  among  the  Sabynes, 
which  was  the  cause  of  staying  the  warres  against  the 
Romaines.  Publicola,  also  for  his  parte  was  very  diligent, 
not  only  to  understand  the  originall  cause  of  his  sedition, 
but  to  feede  on  further  and  increase  the  same,  having  gotten 
men  meete  for  the  purpose,  which  caried  Appius  such  a 
message  from  him.  That  Publicola  knewe  very  well  he  was 
a  just  man,  and  one  that  would  not  be  revenged  of  his 
cittizens,  to  the  generall  hurte  of  his  countrie,  although  the 
injuries  he  receyved  at  their  hands,  delivered  him  just  occa- 
sion to  doe  it :  nevertheles  if  he  had  any  desire  to  provide 
2  M  273 


LIVES   OF   THE    NOBLE 

PUBLICOLA  for  his  safety  and  to  repaire  to  Rome,  leaving  them  which 
causeles  wished  him  so  muche  evill,  they  would  both  openly 
and  privately  receyve  him  with  that  due  honour  which  his 
vertue  deserved  and  the  worthines  of  the  Romaine  people 
required.  Clausus  having  long  and  many  times  considered 
this  matter  with  him  selfe,  resolved  that  it  was  the  best  waye 
he  could  take,  making  vertue  of  necessitie :  and  therefore 
being  determined  to  doe  it,  he  dyd  procure  his  friends  to 
doe  as  he  dyd,  and  they  got  other  also  unto  them,  so  that 
Appius  he  brought  awaye  with    him  out  of  the   countrie  of  the 

Clausus  goeth  Sabynes,  five  thousand  families  with  their  wives  and  children 
to  dwel  at        ^Qf  \\^q  quietest  and  most  peacible  people  among  the  Sabynes) 
^'"^"  to  dwel  at  Rome.     Publicola  being  advertised  thereof  before 

they  came,  dyd  receyve  them  at  their  comming  to  Rome  with 
great  joye,  and  all  manner  of  good  curteous  enterteinment. 
For  at  their  first  coming,  he  made  them  all  and  their  families 
free  cittizens,  and  assigned  unto  every  persone  of  them  two 
jugera  of  lande,  (which  conteined  one  acre,  one  roode,  eleven 
pole,  and  69  partes  of  a  pole)  by  the  river  of  Tyber :  and 
unto  Appius  self  he  gave  25  jugera  (to  wit,  16  acres  and  a 
halfe,  4  pole  and  76  partes  of  a  pole)  and  received  him  into 
the  number  of  the  Senatours.  And  thus  came  he  first  unto 
the  government  of  the  common  weale  in  Rome,  where  he  did 
so  wisely  behave  him  self,  that  in  the  end  he  came  to  be  the 
chiefest  man  of  dignitie  and  authoritie  in  Rome,  so  long  as 
The  familie  of  he  lived.  After  his  death,  he  left  behind  him  the  familie  of 
theClaudiaus.  ^j^g  Claudians,  descending  from  him  :  which  for  honour,  and 
worthines,  gave  no  place  to  the  noblest  familie  in  Rome. 
But  no  we  the  sedition  amongest  the  Sabynes  being  pacified, 
by  the  departure  of  those  that  were  gone  to  Rome :  the 
seditious  governours  would  not  suffer  those  that  remained 
to  live  in  peace,  but  still  cried  out,  it  were  to  much  shame 
for  them,  that  Clausus  being  a  fugitive,  and  become  an 
enemie,  should  honour  their  enemies  abroade,  that  being 
present  durst  not  shewe  so  much  at  home,  and  that  the 
Romaines  should  scape  unrevenged,  who  had  done  them 
such  apparant  wronges.  So  they  raised  great  force  and 
power,  and  went  and  encamped  with  their  armie  neere  the 
cittie  of  Fidenes,  and  layed  an  ambushe  harde  by  Rome,  in 
274 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

certen  hidden  and  hollowe  places,  where  they  put  a  two  PUBLICOLA 
thousand  choyce  footemen,  very  well  armed,  and  dyd 
appoint  the  next  morning  to  send  certaine  light  horse  men 
to  runne  and  praye  to  Rome  gates :  commaunding  them, 
that  when  the  Romaines  came  out  of  the  cittie  to  charge 
them,  they  should  seeme  leysurely  to  retire,  untill  they  had 
drawen  them  within  daunger  of  their  ambush.  Publicola 
receyving  full  intelligence  of  all  their  intention,  by  a  traytour 
that  fled  from  them  unto  him,  made  due  preparation  to  en- 
counter with  their  privie  ambushe,  and  so  devided  his  armie 
in  two  partes :  for  he  gave  his  sonne  in  lawe  Posthumius 
Balbus,  three  thousand  footemen,  whom  he  sent  awaye  by 
night,  commaunding  them  the  same  night  to  take  the  hilles, 
in  the  bottome  whereof  the  Sabynes  were  layed  in  ambushe, 
Lucretius,  fellowe  Consull  with  Publicola,  having  the  lightest 
and  lustiest  men  of  the  cittie,  was  appointed  to  make  head 
against  the  vauntcurriers  of  the  Sabynes,  that  minded  to  ap- 
proche  the  gates.  And  Publicola  with  the  rest  of  the  armie, 
marched  a  great  compasse  about  to  inclose  his  enemies  behinde. 
The  next  morning  betimes,  by  chaunce  it  was  a  thick  miste, 
and  at  that  present  time  Posthumius  coming  down  from  the 
hilles,  with  great  showtes,  charged  them  that  laye  in  ambush. 
Lucretius  on  the  other  side,  set  upon  the  light  horsemen  of  the 
Sabynes  :  and  Publicola  fell  upon  their  campe.  So  that  of  all 
sides  the  Sabynes  enterprise  had  very  ill  successe,  for  they  had 
the  worst  in  every  place,  and  the  Romaines  killed  them  flying, 
without  any  turning  againe  to  make  resistance.  Thus  the 
place  which  gave  them  hope  of  best  safety,  turned  most  to 
their  deadly  overthrowe.  For  every  one  of  their  companies 
supposing  the  other  had  bene  whole  and  unbroken,  when  a 
charge  was  geven  upon  them,  dyd  straight  breake,  and  never  a 
company  of  them  turned  head  toward  their  enemie.  For  they 
that  were  in  the  campe,  ranne  toward  them  which  laye  in 
ambushe :  and  those  which  were  in  ambushe  on  the  contrarie 
side,  ranne  towards  them  that  were  in  campe.  So  that  in 
flying,  the  one  met  with  the  other,  and  founde  those,  towards 
whom  they  were  flying  to  have  bene  safe,  to  stand  in  as  much 
neede  of  helpe  as  them  selves.  That  which  saved  some 
that  were  not  slaine,  was  the  cittie  of  Fidenes,  which  was 

275 


LIVES    OF    THE    NOBLE 


The  Sabynes 
slaine. 


The  death  of 
Publicola. 


PUBLICOLA  neere  the  campe,  and  specially  saved  those  which  fled  thither. 
But  such  as  came  shorte  of  the  cittie,  and  could  not  in  time 
recover  it,  were  all  slaine  in  the  fielde,  or  taken  prisoners. 
As  for  the  glorie  of  this  honorable  victorie,  albeit  the 
Romaines  were  wonte  to  ascribe  all  suche  great  notable 
matters  to  the  speciall  providence  and  grace  of  the  goddes, 
yet  at  that  time  notwithstanding  they  dyd  judge,  that  this 
happy  successe  fell  out  by  the  wise  foresight  and  valliantnes  of 
the  captaine.  For  every  man  that  had  served  in  this  jorney, 
had  no  other  talke  in  his  mouth,  but  that  Publicola  had 
delivered  their  enemies  into  their  handes,  lame,  and  blinde, 
and  as  a  man  might  saye,  bounde  hande  and  feete  to  kill 
them  at  their  pleasure.  The  people  were  marvelously  en- 
riched by  this  victorie,  aswell  for  the  spoile,  as  for  the 
ransome  of  the  prisoners  that  they  had  gotten.  Nowe 
Publicola  after  he  had  triumphed,  and  left  the  government 
of  the  cittie  to  those,  which  were  chosen  Consuls  for  the 
yere  following :  dyed  incontinently,  having  lived  as  honor- 
ably and  vertuously  all  the  dayes  of  his  life,  as  any  man 
living  might  doe.  The  people  then  tooke  order  for  his 
funeralles,  that  the  charges  thereof  should  be  defrayed  by 
the  cittie,  as  if  they  had  never  done  him  any  honour  in  his 
life,  and  that  they  had  bene  still  debters  unto  him  for  the 
noble  service  he  had  done  unto  the  state  and  common  weale 
whilest  he  lived.  Therefore  towardes  his  funeralle  charges, 
every  cittizen  gave  a  pece  of  money  called  a  Quatrine.  The 
women  also  for  their  parte,  to  honour  his'funeralles,  agreed 
among  them  selves  to  mourne  a  whole  yere  in  blackes  for  him, 
which  was  a  great  and  honorable  memoriall.  He  was  buried 
also  by  expresse  order  of  the  people,  within  the  cittie,  in 
the  streate  called  Velia  :  and  they  graunted  priviledge  also 
unto  all  his  posteritie,  to  be  buried  in  the  selfe  same  place. 
Howbeit  they  doe  no  more  burie  any  of  his  there.  But 
when  any  dye,  they  bring  the  corse  unto  this  place,  and  one 
holding  a  torche  burning  in  his  hande,  doth  put  it  under  the 
place,  and  take  it  straight  awaye  againe,  to  shewe  that  they 
have  libertie  to  burie  him  there,  but  that  they  willingly 
refuse  this  honour:  and  this  done,  they  carie 
the  corse  awaye  againe. 


His  fuue- 
ralles. 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 


THE    COMPARISON    OF 
SOLON   WITH   PUBLICOLA 


OWE  presently  to  compare  these  two  per- 
sonages together,  it  seemeth  they  both 
had  one  vertue  in  them :  which  is  not 
fomide  in  any  other  of  their  lives  which 
we  have  written  of  before.  And  the 
same  is,  that  the  one  hath  bene  a  witnes, 
and  the  other  a  follower  of  him,  to  whom 
he  was  like.    So  as  the  sentence  that  Solon 


spake  to  king  Croesus,  touching  Tellus  felicitie  and  happines, 
might  have  better  bene  applied  unto  Publicola,  than  to  Publicola 
Tellus :  whom  he  judged  to  be  very  happy,  bicause  he  dyed  happie. 
honorably,  he  had  lived  vertuously,  and  had  left  behinde  him 
goodly  children.  And  yet  Solon  speaketh  nothing  of  his 
excellencie,  or  vertue,  in  any  of  his  poemes  :  neither  dyd  he 
ever  beare  any  honorable  office  in  all  his  time,  nor  yet  left 
any  children  that  caried  any  great  fame  or  renowme  after 
his  death.  Whereas  Publicola  so  long  as  he  lived,  was 
allwayes  the  chiefe  man  amongest  the  Romaines,  of  credit 
and  authoritie :  and  afterwards  since  his  death,  certaine  of 
the  noblest  families,  and  most  auncient  houses  of  Rome, 
in  these  our  dayes,  as  the  Publicoles,  the  Messales,  and  the 
Valerians,  for  six  hundred  yeres  continuance,  doe  referre  the 
glorie  of  the  nobilitie  and  auncientie  of  their  house  unto 
him.  Furthermore,  Tellus  was  slaine  by  his  enemies,  fight- 
ing valliantly  like  a  worthy  honest  man.  But  Publicola 
died  after  he  had  slaine  his  enemies :  which  is  faiTe  more 
great  good  happe,  then  to  be  slaine.  For  after  he  as 
generall  had  honorably  served  his  country  in  the  warres, 
and  had  left  them  conquerers,  having  in  his  life  time  re- 
ceyved  all  honours  and  triumphes  due  unto  his  service :  he 
attained  to  that  happy  end  of  life,  which  Solon  accompted 
and  esteemed,  most  happy  and  blessed.  Also  in  wishing 
manner,  he  would  his  end  should  be  lamented  to  his  prayse, 

277 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

SOLON       in  a  place  where  he  confuteth  Mimnermus,  about  the  con- 
■*ND  tinuaunce  of  mans  life,  by  savina; : 

PUBLICOLA  ^    J      J    s 

Let  not  my  death  without  lamenting  passe, 

but  rather  let  my  friendes  bewayle  the  same : 
Whose  grievous  teares,  and  cries  of  out  alas,  . 

maye  ofte  resound  the  Eccho  of  my  name. 

If  that  be  good  happe,  then  most  happy  maketh  he 
Publicola :  for  at  his  death,  not  only  his  friends  and  kinse- 
folkes,  but  the  whole  cittie  also,  and  many  a  thousand 
persone  besides,  dyd  bitterly  bewayle  the  losse  of  him.  For 
all  the  women  of  Rome  dyd  mourne  for  him  in  blacks,  and 
dyd  most  pittiefully  lament  his  death,  as  every  one  of  them 
had  lost  either  father,  brother,  or  husband. 

True  it  is,  that  I  covet  goodes  to  have  : 
but  yet  so  got,  as  maye  me  not  deprave. 

Solon  sayeth  this,  bicause  vengeance  followed  ill  gotten 
good.  And  Publicola  tooke  great  heede,  not  only  to  get  his 
goodes  most  justly,  but  had  regarde  that  those  which  he  had, 
he  spent  most  honestly  in  helping  the  needie.  So  that  if 
Solon  was  justly  reputed  the  wisest  man,  we  must  needes 
confesse  also  that  Publicola  was  the  happiest.  For  what  the 
one  desired  for  the  greatest  and  most  perfect  good,  a  man 
can  have  in  this  worlde  :  the  other  hath  wonne  it,  kept  it,  and 
used  it  all  his  life  time,  untill  the  hower  of  his  death.  And 
thus  hath  Solon  honoured  Publicola,  and  Publicola  hath 
done  like  unto  Solon,  shewing  him  self  a  perfect  example  and 
looking  glasse,  where  men  maye  see  howe  to  goveme  a 
popular  state :  when  he  made  his  Consulshippe  voyde  of 
all  pride  and  stately  shewe,  and  became  him  self  affable, 
curteous,  and  beloved  of  everie  bodie.  So  tooke  he  profit  by 
many  of  his  lawes.  As  when  he  ordeined,  that  the  people 
only  should  have  authoritie  to  choose  and  create,  all 
common  officers  and  magistrates,  and  that  they  might  ap- 
peale  from  any  judge  to  the  people  :  as  Solon  when  he 
suffered  them  to  appeale  unto  the  judges  of  the  people. 
In  deede  Publicola  dyd  not  create  any  newe  Senate,  as 
Solon  dyd  :  but  he  dyd  augment  the  first  number,  with  as 
many  persones  almost  as  there  were  before.     He  dyd  also 

278 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

first  erect  the  office  of  Quccstores^  for  keeping  of  all  fines,       SOLON 
taxes,  and  other  collections  of  money.     Bicause  the  chiefest  ^^^ 

magistrate,  if  he  were  an  honest  man,  should  not  for  so  light  PUBLICOLA 
an  occasion  be  taken,  from  the  care  of  better  and  more  Publicola 
weightie  affayers  :  and  if  he  were  wickedly  geven  and  ill  dis-  elected  the 
posed,  that  he  should  have  no  such  meane  or  occasion  to  Qucestores 
worke  his  mcked  will,  by  having  the  treasure  of  the  cittie  in 
his  handes,  and  to  commaund  what  he  lyst.  Moreover  in 
hating  the  tyramies,  Publicola  therein  was  farre  more  shai-pe 
and  terrible.  For  Solon  in  his  lawes  punished  him  that 
went  about  to  make  him  selfe  tyranne,  yet  after  he  was  con- 
victed thereof  by  lawe :  but  Publicola  ordeined  that  they 
should  kill  him,  before  the  lawe  dyd  passe  on  him,  that 
sought  to  be  King.  And  where  Solon  justly,  and  truely 
vaunteth  him  self,  that  being  offered  to  be  King  and  Lord 
of  Athens,  and  that  with  the  whole  consent  of  the  cittizens : 
yet  he  dyd  notwithstanding  refuse  it.  This  vaunte  and 
glorie  is  as  due  unto  Publicola :  who  finding  the  dignitie  of 
a  Consul  tyrannicall,  he  brought  it  to  be  more  lowly  and 
favorable  for  the  people,  not  taking  upon  him  all  the 
authoritie  he  might  lawfully  have  done.  And  it  seemeth 
that  Solon  knewe  before  him,  what  was  the  true  and  direct 
waye  to  goveme  a  common  weale  uprightly.  For  he  sayeth 
in  one  place : 

Both  great  and  small  of  power,  the  better  will  obaye  : 
if  we  to  litle  or  to  much,  upon  them  doe  not  laye. 

The  discharging  of  dettes  was  proper  to  Solon,  which  was 
a  full  confirmation  of  libertie.  For  litle  prevayleth  lawe  to 
make  equalitie  among  cittizens,  when  dettes  doe  hinder  the 
poore  people  to  enjoy e  the  benefit  thereof.  And  Avhere  it 
seemeth  that  they  have  most  libertie,  as  in  that  they  maye  be 
chosen  judges  and  officers  to  speake  their  opinion  in  the 
counsell,  and  geve  their  voyces  also :  there  in  deede  are  they 
most  bounde  and  subject,  bicause  they  doe  but  obaye  the 
rich,  in  all  they  doe  commaund.  But  yet  in  this  acte  there 
is  a  thinge  more  wonderfull,  and  worthie  to  be  noted.  That 
commonly  discharging  of  dettes,  was  wont  to  breede  great 
tumultes,   and   seditions   in   common   weales.      And   Solon 

279 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

SOLON       having  used  it  in  a  very  good  time  (as  the  phisitian  ventring 
ANn  a  daungerous  medecine)  dyd  appease   the  sedition  already 

PUBLICOLA  begonne,  and  did  utterly  quenche  through  his  glorie,  and  the 
common  opinion  they  had  of  his  wisdome  and  vertue,  all  the 
infamie  and  accusation  that  might  have  growen  of  that  acte. 
As  for  their  first  entrie  into  the  government,  Solons  begin- 
ning was  farre  more  noble.  For  he  went  before,  and  followed 
not  another :  and  him  selfe  alone  without  any  others  helpe, 
dyd  put  in  execution  the  best,  and  more  parte  of  all  his 
notable  and  goodly  lawes.  Yet  was  Publicolaes  ende  and 
death  much  more  glorious  and  happie.  For  Solon  before 
he  dyed,  sawe  all  his  comon  wealthe  overthrowen :  but 
Publicolaes  common  weale  continued  whole  as  he  left  it, 
untill  the  broyle  of  civill  warres  beganne  againe  among 
them.  Solon,  after  he  had  made  his  lawes,  and  written 
them  in  wodden  tables,  leaving  them  without  defence  of  any 
man,  went  his  waye  imraediatly  out  of  the  cittie  of  Athens. 
Publicola  abiding  continually  in  Rome  governing  the  state, 
dyd  throughly  stablishe  and  confirme  the  lawes  he  made. 
Furthermore  Solon  having  wisely  forseene  Pisistratus  prac- 
tises, aspiring  to  make  him  selfe  King :  he  could  never  let 
him  for  all  that,  but  was  him  selfe  overcome  and  oppressed 
with  the  tyrannic  he  sawe  stablished  in  his  owne  sight,  and  in 
dispight  of  him.  Where  Publicola  overthrewe  and  dyd  put 
downe  a  mightie  Kingdome,  that  had  continued  of  long 
time,  and  was  throughly  stablished :  his  vertue  and  desire 
being  equall  with  Solons,  and  having  had  besides  fortune 
favorable,  and  sufficient  power  to  execute,  his  vertuous  and 
well  disposed  minde.  But  as  for  warres  and  marshall  deedes, 
there  is  no  comparison  to  be  made  betweene  them.  For 
Daimachus  Plataeian,  doth  not  attribute  the  warres  of  the 
Megarians  unto  Solon,  as  we  have  written  it :  where  Publi- 
cola being  generall  of  an  armie,  and  fighting  him  selfe  in 
persone,  hath  wonne  many  great  battells.  And  as  for 
matters  of  peace  and  civill  government,  Solon  never  durst 
present  him  self  openly  to  persuade  the  enterprise  of  Sala- 
mina,  but  under  a  counterfeat  madnes,  and  as  a  foole  to 
make  sporte.  Where  Publicola  taking  his  adventure  from 
the  beginning,  shewed  him  selfe  without  dissimulation,  an 
280 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

open  enemie  to  Tarquine,  and  afterwardes  he  revealed  the       SOLON 
whole  conspiracie.     And  when  he  had  bene  the  only  cause  and 

and  autor  of  punishing  the  traitours,  he  dyd  not  only  drive  PUBLICOLA 
out  of  Rome  the  tyrannes  selves  in  persone,  but  tooke  from 
them  also  all  hope  of  returne  againe.  Who  having  allwayes 
thus  nobly  and  valliantly  behaved  him  self,  without  shrinking 
backe,  or  flying  from  ought  that  required  force,  a  manly 
corage,  or  open  resistaunce :  dyd  yet  shewe  him  selfe  dis- 
creete,  where  wisedome  was  requisite,  or  reason  and  persuasion 
needefull.  As  when  he  conningly  wanne  king  Porsena,  who 
was  a  dredfuU  enemie  unto  him,  and  invincible  by  force: 
whom  he  handled  in  such  good  sorte,  that  he  made  him  his 
friend.  Peradventure  some  might  stand  in  this  and  saye : 
that  Solon  recovered  the  He  of  Salamina  unto  the  Athe- 
nians, which  they  would  have  lost.  Publicola  to  the  con- 
trarie,  restored  the  lands  unto  Porsena  againe,  which  the 
Romaines  had  conquered  before,  within  the  countrie  of 
Thuscan.  But  the  times  in  which  these  things  were  done, 
are  allwayes  to  be  considered  of.  For  a  wise  govemour  of  a  A  politicke 
Realme,  and  politicke  man,  doth  governe  diversely  according  precept, 
to  the  occasions  ofFred,  taking  every  thing  in  his  time 
wherein  he  will  deale.  And  many  times,  in  letting  goe  one 
thing,  he  saveth  the  whole  :  and  in  losing  a  litle,  he  gayneth 
much.  As  Publicola  dyd  :  who  losing  a  litle  pece  of  another 
mans  countrie  which  they  had  usui-ped,  saved  by  that  meanes 
all  that  was  assuredly  his  owne.  And  whereas  the  Romaines 
thought  he  should  doe  very  much  for  them,  to  save  their 
cittie  only  :  he  got  them  moreover,  all  the  goodes  that  were  in 
their  enemies  campe,  which  dyd  besiege  them.  And  in  making 
his  enemie  judge  of  his  quarrell,  he  wanne  the  victorie : 
winning  that  moreover,  which  he  would  gladly  have  geven  to 
have  overcome,  and  have  sentence  passe  of  his  side.  For  the 
King  their  enemie  dyd  not  only  make  peace  with  them,  but 
dyd  also  leave  them  all  his  furniture,  provision,  and  munition 
for  the  warres:  even  for  the  vertue,  manhood,  and  justice, 
which  the  great  wisedome  of  this  Consul  persuaded  Porsena 
to  beleeve  to  be,  in  all  the  other  Romaines. 

THE   ENDE   OF   PUBLICOLAES    LIFE 

2N  981 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 


THE  LIFE  OF  THEMISTOCLES 


Cynosargos, 
a  place  of 
exercise  de- 
dicated to 
Hercules, 


Themistocles 
towardnes. 


HEMISTOCLES  parentage  dyd  litle  ad- 
vaunce  his  glorie :  for  his  father  Neocles 
was  of  small  reputation  in  Athens, 
being  of  the  hundred  of  Phrear,  and 
tribe  of  Leontis :  of  his  mother  an 
allien  or  straunger :  as  these  verses  doe 
witnesse, 


Abrotonon  I  am,  yborne  in  Thracia, 

and  yet  this  highe  good  happe  I  have,  that  into  Grecia 
I  have  brought  forth  a  sonne,  Themistocles  by  name, 

the  glorie  of  the  Greekishe  bloods,  and  man  of  greatest  fame. 

Howbeit  Phanias  writeth,  that  his  mother  was  not  a 
Thracian,  but  borne  in  the  countrie  of  Caria :  and  they  doe 
not  call  her  Abrotonon,  but  Euterpe.  And  Neanthes  sayeth 
furthermore,  that  she  was  of  Halicamassus,  the  chiefest  cittie 
of  all  the  Realme  of  Caria.  For  which  cause  when  the 
straungers  dyd  assemble  at  Cynosargos  (a  place  of  exercise 
without  the  gate  dedicated  to  Hercules,  which  was  not  a 
right  god,  but  noted  an  alien,  in  that  his  mother  was  a  mortall 
woman :)  Themistocles  persuaded  divers  youthes  of  the  most 
honourable  houses,  to  goe  down  with  him,  and  to  annointe 
them  selves  at  Cynosargos,  conningly  thereby  taking  away 
the  difference  betwene  the  right  and  alien  sorte.  But  setting 
a  parte  all  these  circumstaunces,  he  was  no  doubt  allied  unto 
the  house  of  the  Lycomedians :  for  Themistocles  caused  the 
chappell  of  this  familie,  which  is  in  the  village  of  Phlyes, 
being  once  burnt  by  the  barbarous  people,  to  be  buylt  up 
againe  at  his  owne  charges :  and  as  Simonides  sayeth,  he  dyd 
set  it  forth  and  enriche  it  with  pictures.  Moreover  every 
man  doth  confesse  it,  that  even  from  his  childhood  they  dyd 
perceyve  he  was  geven  to  be  very  whotte  headed,  sturring, 
wise,  and  of  good  spirite,  and  enterprising  of  him  selfe  to 
doe  great  things,  and  borne  to  rule  weighty  causes.     For  at 

282 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

such  dayes  and  bowers  as  he  was  taken  from  his  booke,  and     THEMIS- 
had  leave  to  playe,  be  never  played,  nor  would  never  be  idle,      TOCLES 
as  other  children  were :  but  they  allwayes  founde  him  con- 
ning some  oration  without  booke,  or  making  it  alone  by 
him  selfe,  and  the  ground  of  his  matter  was  ever  comonly, 
either  to  defend,  or  accuse  some  of  his  companions.    Where- 
upon his  schoolemaster  observing  him,  ofte  sayed  unto  him : 
Suer  some  great  matter  hangeth  over  thy  head  my  boye,  for 
it  cannot  be  chosen  but  that  one  daye  thou  shalt  doe  some 
notable  good  thing,  or  some  extreme  mischief.     Therefore 
when  they  went  about  to  teache  him  any  thing,  only  to 
checke  his  nature,  or  to  facion  him  with  good  manner  and 
civilitie,  or  to   studie  any  matter  for  pleasure   or  honest 
pastime :    he  would  slowly  and    carelesly  learne   of  them. 
But  if  they  delivered  him  any  matter  of  wit,  and  things  of 
weight  concerning  state :    they  sawe  he  would  beate  at  it 
marvelously,  and  would  understande  more  then  any  could 
of  his  age  and  cariage,  trusting  altogether  to  his  naturall 
mother  wit.     This  was  the  cause,  that  being  mocked  after- 
wardes   by  some   that   had   studied   humanitie,  and  other 
liberall  sciences,  he  was  driven  for  revenge  and  his  owne 
defence,  to  aunswer  with  great  and  stowte  wordes,  saying, 
that  in  deede  he  could  no  skill  to  tune  a  harpe,  nor  a  violl, 
nor  to  playe  of  a  psalterion :  but  if  they  dyd  put  a  cittie 
into  his  handes  that  was  of  small  name,  weake,  and  litle,  he 
knewe  wayes  enough  how  to  make  it  noble,  stronge,  and 
great.     Nevertheles,  Stesimbrotus  ^vriteth,  how  he  went  to 
Anaxagoras  schoole,  and  that  under   Melissus   he   studied  Themistocles 
naturall  philosophic.     But  herein  he  was  greatly  deceaved,  ^^^  Anaxa- 
for   that   he   tooke   no   great   hede   unto   the   time.      For  fig^gjl," 
Melissus  was  captaine  of  the  Samians  against  Pericles,  at  schoUer. 
what  time  he  dyd  laye  seige  unto  the  cittie  of  Samos.     Now 
this  is  true,  Pericles  was  much  younger  then  Themistocles, 
and  Anaxagoras    dwelt  with    Pericles  in   his    owne  house. 
Therefore  we  have  better  reason  and  occasion  to  beleeve 
those   that  write,  Themistocles   dyd   determine  to  foUowe 
Mnesiphilus  Phrearian.     For  he  was  no  professed   Orator,  MnesiphUus 
nor  naturall  philosopher,  as  they  termed  it  in  that  time:  but  Phrearian, 
made  profession  of  that  which  then  they  called  wisedome. 

283 


THEMIS- 
TOCLES 

What  wise- 
dome  was  in 
olde  time. 


Howe  the 

name  of 
Sophisters 
came  up. 

Themistocles 
youthe. 


The  privie 
grudge  be- 
twext  Themis- 
tocles and 
Aristides. 


LIVES    OF  THE   NOBLE 

Which  was  no  other  thing,  but  a  certen  knowledge  to  handle 
great  causes,  and  an  indevour  to  have  a  good  wit  and  judg- 
ment in  matters  of  state  and  government :  which  profession 
beginning  in  Solon,  dyd  continue,  and  was  taken  up  from 
man  to  man,  as  a  secte  of  philosophic.  But  those  that  came 
sithence,  have  mingled  it  with  arte  of  speache,  and  by  litle 
and  litle  have  translated  the  exercise  of  deedes,  unto  bare 
and  curious  wordes :  whereupon  they  were  called  Sophisters^ 
as  who  would  saye,  counterfeate  wise  men.  Notwithstanding, 
when  Themistocles  beganne  to  medle  with  the  government 
of  the  common  weale,  he  followed  much  Mnesiphilus.  In 
the  first  parte  of  his  youth,  his  behaviour  and  doings  were 
very  light  and  unconstant,  as  one  caried  awaye  with  a  rashe 
head,  and  without  any  order  or  discretion :  by  reason  where- 
of his  manners  and  conditions  seemed  marvelously  to  chaunge, 
and  oftimes  fell  into  very  ill  favored  events,  as  him  self  dyd 
afterwards  confesse  by  saying :  that  a  ragged  colte  oftimes 
proves  a  good  horse,  specially  if  he  be  well  ridden,  and 
broken  as  he  should  be.  Other  tales  which  some  will  seeme 
to  adde  to  this,  are  in  my  opinion  but  fables.  As  that  his 
father  dyd  disinherite  him,  and  that  his  mother  for  very  care 
and  sorowe  she  tooke  to  see  the  lewde  life  of  her  sonne,  dyd 
kill  her  self.  For  there  are  that  write  to  the  contrary,  that 
his  father  being  desirous  to  take  him  from  dealing  in  govern- 
ment, dyd  goe  and  shewe  him  all  alongest  the  sea  shore,  the 
shippewracks  and  ribbes  of  olde  gallyes  cast  here  and  there, 
whereof  no  reckoning  was  made,  and  sayed  to  him  :  Thus  the 
people  use  their  govemours,  when  they  can  serve  no  lenger. 
Howsoever  it  was,  it  is  most  true  that  Themistocles  earnestly 
gave  him  self  to  state,  and  was  sodainely  taken  with  desire 
of  glorie.  For  even  at  his  first  entrie,  bicause  he  would  set 
foote  before  the  prowdest,  he  stoode  at  pyke  against  the 
greatest  and  mightiest  persones,  that  bare  the  swaye  and 
government,  and  specially  against  Aristides,  Lysimachus 
Sonne,  who  ever  encountered  him,  and  was  still  his  adversarie 
opposite.  Yet  it  seemeth  the  evil  will  he  conceyved  toward 
him,  came  of  a  very  ight  cause.  For  they  both  loved 
Stesilaus,  that  was  borne  in  the  cittie  of  Teos,  as  Ariston  the 
philosopher  writeth.  And  after  this  jealousie  was  kindled 
284 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

betweene  them,  they  allwayes    tooke    contrary   parte    one     THEMIS- 
against  another,  not  only  in  their  private  likings,  but  also  in      TOCLES 
the  government  of  the  common  weale.    Yet  I  am  persuaded, 
that  the  difference   of  their  manners  and   conditions,  did 
much  encrease  the  grudge  and  discorde  betwext  them.     For 
Aristides  being  by  nature  a  very  good  man,  a  just  dealer,  Aristides  a 
and  honest  of  life,  and  one  that  in  all  his  doings  would  never  just  man. 
flatter  the  people,  nor  serve  his  owne  glorie,  but  rather  to 
the  contrary  would  doe,  would  saye,  and  counsaill  allwayes 
for  the  most  ibenefit  and  commoditie  of  the  common  weale : 
was  oftetimes  enforced  to  resist  Themistocles,  and  disapoint 
his  ambition,  being  ever  busilie  moving  the  people,  to  take 
some  new  matter  in  hande.     For  they  reporte  of  him,  that 
he  was  so  inflamed  with  desire  of  glorie,  and  to  enterprise  Themistocles 
great  matters,  that  being  but  a  very  yoong  man  at  the  ambition, 
battell  of  Marathon,  where  there  was  no  talke  but  of  the 
worthines  of  captaine  Miltiades  that  had  wonne  the  battell : 
he  was  found  many  times  solitarilie  there  alone  devising  with 
him  self :  besides,  they  saye  he  could  then  take  no  rest  in  the 
night,  neither  would  goe  to  playes  in  the  daye  time,  nor 
would  keepe  corapanie  with  those  whom  he  was  accustomed 
to  be  familiar  withall  before.     Furthermore,  he  would  tell 
them  that  woundred  to  see  him  so  in  his  muses,  and  chaunged, 
and  asked  him  what  he  ayled :  that  Miltiades  victorie  would 
not  let  him  sleepe,  bicause  other  thought  this  overthrow  at 
Marathon,  would  have  made  an  end  of  all  warres.     Howbeit 
Themistocles  was  of  a  contrary  opinion,  and  that  it  was  but 
a  beginning  of  greater  troubles.    Therefore  he  daylie  studied 
howe  to  prevent  them,  and  how  to   see  to  the  safetie  of 
Greece,  and  before  occasion  offered,  he  did  exercise  his  cittie 
in   feats   of  warre,  foreseeing   what    should    followe   after. 
Wherefore,  where  the  cittizens  of  Athens  before  dyd  use  to 
devide  among  them  selves  the  revenue  of  their  mines  of 
silver,  which  were  in  a  parte  of  Attica  called  Laurion :  he 
alone  was  the  first  that  durst  speake  to  the  people,  and  per-  Themistocles 
suade  tliem,  that  from  thenceforth  they  should  cease  that  persuaded  his 
distribution  among  them  selves,  and  employe  the  money  of  contnemen  to 
the  same  in  making  of  gallyes,  to  make  warres  against  the  ^^  ^  ^^  ^^^' 
^ginetes.     For  their  warres  of  all  Greece  were  most  cruell, 

285 


THEMIS- 
TOCLES 


The  Athe- 
nians bent 
their  force 
to  sea,  by 
Themistocles 
persuasion. 


Themistocles 
a  good  hus- 
band to  looke 
for  his  profit. 


LIVES    OF  THE   NOBLE 

bicause  they  were  lords  of  the  sea,  and  had  so  great  a  number 
of  shippes.  This  persuasion  drue  the  cittizens  more  easely 
to  Themistocles  minde,  than  the  threatning  them  with  king 
Darius,  or  the  Persians  would  have  done :  who  were  farre 
from  them,  and  not  feared  that  they  would  come  neere  unto 
them.  So  this  oportunitie  taken  of  the  hatred  and  jealousie 
betwene  the  Athenians  and  the  ^ginetes,  made  the  people 
to  agree,  of  the  said  money  to  make  an  hundred  gallyes, 
with  which  they  fought  against  king  Xerxes,  and  did  over- 
come him  by  sea.  Now  after  this  good  beginning  and 
successe,  he  wanne  the  cittizens  by  degrees  to  bende  their 
force  to  sea,  declaring  unto  them,  howe  by  lande  they  were 
scant  able  to  make  heade  against  their  equalles,  whereas  by 
their  power  at  sea,  they  should  not  only  defende  them  selves 
from  the  barbarous  people,  but  moreover  be  able  to  com- 
maund  all  Grece.  Hereupon  he  made  them  good  mariners, 
and  passing  sea  men,  as  Plato  sayeth,  where  before  they 
were  stowte  and  valliant  souldiers  by  lande.  This  gave  his 
enemies  occasion  to  cast  it  in  his  teethe  afterwards,  that  he 
had  taken  away  from  the  Athenians  the  pike  and  the  target, 
and  had  brought  them  to  the  banke  and  the  ower :  and  so 
he  got  the  upper  hand  of  Miltiades.  Who  inveyed  against 
him  in  that,  as  Stesimbrotus  writeth.  Now  after  he  had 
thus  his  will,  by  bringing  this  sea  service  to  passe,  whether 
thereby  he  dyd  overthrow  the  justice  of  the  comon  weale  or 
not,  I  leave  that  to  the  philosophers  to  dispute.  But  that 
the  preservation  of  all  Grece  stoode  at  that  time  upon  the 
sea,  and  that  the  gallyes  only  were  the  cause  of  setting  up 
Athens  againe  :  Xerxes  him  self  is  a  sufficient  witnes,  besides 
other  proofes  that  might  be  brought  thereof.  For  his  armie 
by  lande  being  yet  whole,  and  unset  on,  when  he  saw  his 
armie  by  sea  broken,  dispersed,  and  souncke,  he  fled  straight 
upon  it,  confessing  as  it  were  that  he  was  nowe  to  weake  to 
deale  any  more  with  the  Greecians,  and  left  Mardonius  his 
lieutenant  in  Greece,  of  purpose  in  my  opinion,  rather  to  let 
that  the  Greecians  should  not  followe  him,  then  for  any  hope 
he  had  to  overcome  them.  Some  write  of  Themistocles, 
that  he  was  a  very  good  husband  for  his  own  profit,  and 
carefull  to  looke  to  his  things :  for  he  dyd  spende  liberally, 
286 


m 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

and  loved  ofte  to  make  sacrifices,  and  honorably  to  receyve  THEMIS- 
and  entertaine  straungers  :  wherefore  he  had  good  reason  to  TOCLES 
be  carefuU  to  get,  to  defraye  his  charges.  Other  to  the 
contrary,  blame  him  much,  that  he  was  to  nere,  and  miser- 
able :  for  some  saye,  he  would  sell  presents  of  meate  that 
were  geven  him.  He  dyd  aske  one  Philides  on  a  time,  which 
had  a  brede  of  mares,  a  colte  of  gifte :  who  denying  him 
flatly,  he  was  so  angrie,  that  he  threatned  him  ere  it  were 
long  he  would  make  his  house  the  horse  of  wodde,  with  the 
which  Troia  was  taken.  Meaning  covertly  to  let  him  under- 
stande,  that  he  would  shortly  set  strife  and  quarrel  betwext 
him,  and  his  nearest  kinsemen  and  familliar  friends.  It  is 
true  that  he  was  the  most  ambitious  man  of  the  world.  For  Themistocles 
when  he  was  but  a  young  man,  and  scantly  knowen,  he  extremely 
earnestly  intreated  one  Epicles,  borne  at  Hermionna,  an  ^'"''it^**"^. 
excellent  player  of  the  citherne,  and  counted  at  that  time 
the  conningest  man  in  all  Athens  at  that  instrument,  that 
he  would  come  and  teache  his  arte  at  his  house :  and  all  was 
no  more,  but  that  many  people  being  desirous  to  heare  him 
playe,  should  aske  for  his  house,  and  come  thither  to  him. 
And  one  yere  when  he  went  unto  the  feast  and  assembly  of 
the  playes  Olympicall,  he  would  nedes  keepe  open  house  for 
all  commers,  have  his  tents  richely  furnished,  and  a  great 
traine  of  servants  and  all  other  furniture,  only  to  contende 
with  Cimon.  This  marvelously  spighted  the  Greecians,  who 
thought  Themistocles  expences  fit  for  Cimons  countenance, 
and  abilitie,  bicause  he  was  a  young  gentleman,  and  of  a 
noble  house :  but  for  him  that  was  but  a  newe  come  man, 
and  would  beare  a  greater  porte,  then  either  became  his 
calling  or  abilitie,  they  thought  it  not  only  unallowable  in 
him,  but  meere  presumption  and  vaine  glorie.  Another 
time  he  defrayed  the  whole  charges  of  a  tragedie  which  was 
played  openly  :  and  being  set  out  therein  to  have  wonne  the 
prise,  and  the  Athenians  being  marvelous  desirous  of  the 
honour  in  such  playes,  he  caused  this  victorie  of  his  to  be 
painted  in  a  table,  which  he  did  dedicate  and  set  up  in 
a  temple,  with  this  inscription :  '  Themistocles  Phrearian 
'  defrayed  the  charges :  Phrynicus  made  it :  Adimantus  was 
'  chief  ruler."    Yet  notwithstanding  he  was  well  taken  of  the 

287 


THEMIS- 
TOCLES 


A  wise  saying 
of  Themis- 
tocles. 


Themistocles 
made  Aris- 
tides  to  be 
banished. 


Epicydes  an 
orator  sued  to 
be  generall. 


Arthmius 
defamed  for 
bribing. 


LIVES    OF  THE   NOBLE 

common  people,  partly  bicause  he  would  speake  to  every 
cittizen  by  his  name,  no  man  telling  him  their  names :  and 
partly  also  bicause  he  shewed  him  self  an  upright  judge  in 
private  mens  causes.  As  one  daye  he  aunswered  the  poet 
Simonides,  borne  in  Chio,  who  dyd  request  an  unreasonable 
matter  at  his  hands,  at  that  time  when  he  was  governour  of 
the  cittie :  Thou  couldest  be  no  good  poet,  Simonides,  if 
thou  diddest  singe  against  the  rules  of  musike :  neither  my 
self  a  good  governour  of  a  citie,  if  I  should  doe  any  thing 
against  the  lawe.  And  mocking  the  same  Simonides  another 
time,  he  told  him  he  was  but  a  foole  to  speake  ill  of  the 
Corinthians,  considering  they  were  lords  of  so  great  and 
strong  a  cittie.  Likewise  he  was  not  wise  to  make  him  self 
to  be  drawen,  being  so  deformed  and  ill  favored.  But  being 
growne  in  credit,  and  having  wonne  the  favour  of  the  people, 
he  was  such  an  enemy  to  Aristides,  that  in  the  end  he  made 
him  to  be  expulsed  and  banished  Athens,  for  5  yeres.  When 
newes  were  brought  that  the  king  of  Persia  was  onwardes 
on  his  jorney  and  coming  downe  to  make  warres  upon  the 
Greecians  :  the  Athenians  consulted  whom  they  should  make 
their  generall.  And  it  is  reported,  that  all  their  common 
counsellers  which  were  wont  to  speake  in  matters,  fearing 
the  daunger,  dyd  drawe  backe,  save  an  orator  called  Epicydes, 
Euphemides  sonne,  very  eloquent  in  speache,  but  somwhat 
womanishe,  fainte  harted,  and  gredie  of  money,  offred  him 
self  to  sue  for  this  charge,  and  had  some  hope  to  obteine  it. 
Wherefore  Themistocles  fearing  all  would  not  be  well,  if  it 
fell  to  this  man  to  be  generall  of  the  armie,  he  bought  out 
Epicydes  ambition  with  ready  money,  and  so  made  him 
let  fall  his  sute.  It  fell  out  Themistocles  was  greatly 
comended,  about  that  was  done  to  the  interpreter,  that  came 
with  the  king  of  Persiaes  ambassadours,  and  demaunded  the 
empire  of  the  Greecians  both  by  sea  and  lande,  that  they 
should  acknowledge  obedience  to  the  King.  For  he  caused 
him  to  be  taken,  and  put  to  death  by  a  comon  consent,  for 
using  the  Greeke  tongue  in  the  service  and  commaundement 
of  the  barbarous  people.  It  was  a  notable  thing  also,  that 
at  his  motion,  Arthmius  born  at  Zelea,  was  noted  of  infamie, 
both  he,  his  children,  and  all  his  posteritie  after  him,  bicause 
288 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

he  brought  gold  from  the  king  of  Persia,  to  corrupt  and  THEMIS- 
winne  the  Greecians.  But  the  greatest  and  worthiest  acte  TOCLES 
he  did  in  those  parts,  was  this :  that  he  pacified  all  civill 
warres  among  the  Greecians,  persuading  the  citties  to  leave 
of  their  quarrels  untill  the  warres  were  done,  in  the  which 
they  saye  Chileus  Arcadian  did  helpe  him  more  then  any 
other  man.  He  being  now  chosen  generall  of  the  Athenians,  Themistocles 
went  about  presently  to  imbarke  his  cittizens  into  gallyes,  generall  of  the 
declaring  to  them  they  should  leave  their  cittie,  and  goe  ^  enians 
mete  with  the  barbarous  King  by  sea,  so  farre  from  the  Xerxes. 
coast  of  Greece  as  they  could :  but  the  people  did  not 
thincke  that  good.  Wherefore  he  led  great  numbers  of 
souldiers  by  lande,  into  the  countrie  of  Tempes  with  the 
Lacedaemonians,  to  keepe  the  passage  and  entrie  into  Thes- 
salie,  against  the  barbarous  people,  which  countrie  stoode 
yet  sownde  to  Greece,  and  not  revolted  to  the  Medes. 
Afterwards  the  Grecians  coming  from  thence  without  any 
acte  done,  and  the  Thessalians  also  being  wonne  somewhat 
on  the  Kings  side,  for  that  all  the  whole  country  unto  Bceotia 
was  at  the  devotion  and  goodwill  of  the  barbarous  people : 
then  the  Athenians  beganne  to  finde,  howe  Themistocles 
opinion  to  fight  by  sea  was  very  good.  Wherupon  they 
sent  him  with  their  navie  to  the  cittie  of  Artemisium,  to 
kepe  the  straight.  There  the  other  Grecians  would  have 
had  the  Lacedaemonians  and  their  admirall  Eurybiades  to 
have  had  the  authoritie  and  commaundement  of  the  rest. 
But  the  Athenians  would  not  set  sayle  under  any  other 
admirall  then  their  own,  bicause  theirs  were  the  greatest 
number  of  shippes  in  the  armie,  and  above  all  the  other 
Grecians.  Themistocles  foreseing  the  daunger  that  was 
likely  to  fall  out  amongest  them  selves,  dyd  willingly  yelde 
the  whole  authoritie  unto  Eurybiades,  and  got  the  Athenians 
to  agree  unto  it :  assuring  them,  that  if  they  behaved  them 
selves  valliantly  in  these  warres,  the  other  Greecians  of  their 
own  accorde  would  afterwards  submit  them  selves  unto 
their  obedience.  Hereby  it  appeareth,  that  he  only  of  all 
other  was  at  that  time,  the  originall  cause  of  the  saving  of 
Greece,  and  dyd  most  advaunce  the  honour  and  glorie  of 
the  Athenians,  by  making  them  to  overcome  their  enemies 
2  O  289 


LIVES    OF   THE   NOBLE 

THEMIS-  by  force,  and  their  friends  and  allies  with  liberalitie.  In  the 
TOCLES  meane  time,  Eurybiades  seing  the  barbarous  flete  riding  at 
anker,  all  alongest  the  He  of  Aphetes,  with  such  a  great 
number  of  shippes  in  the  vaward,  he  beganne  to  be  affrayed. 
And  understanding  moreover,  there  were  other  200  sayle 
that  went  to  cast  about  the  He  of  Sciathe,  and  so  to  come 
in  :  he  presently  would  have  retired  further  into  Greece,  and 
would  have  drawen  neerer  unto  Peloponnesus,  to  the  end 
their  army  by  sea  might  be  neare  their  army  by  lande,  as 
thinking  it  unpossible  to  fight  with  king  Xerxes  power  by 
sea.  Whereupon  the  inhabitants  of  the  He  of  Euboea,  fear- 
ing least  the  Grecians  would  to  the  spoyle  of  the  enemy, 
they  caused  Themistocles  secretly  to  be  spoken  with  all,  and 
sent  him  a  good  somme  of  money  by  one  called  Pelagon. 
Themistocles  tooke  the  money,  as  Herodotus  writeth,  and 
gave  it  to  Eurybiades.  But  there  was  one  Architeles 
amongest  the  Athenians,  captaine  of  the  galley  called  the 
holy  galley,  that  was  much  against  Themistocles  intended 
purpose :  who  having  no  money  to  paye  his  mariners,  dyd 
what  he  could  that  they  might  departe  with  speede  from 
thence.  Themistocles  sturred  up  then  his  souldiers  more 
against  him  then  before,  insomuch  as  they  went  aborde  his 
galley,  and  tooke  his  supper  from  him.  Architeles  being 
marvelous  angrie  and  offended  withall,  Themistocles  sent 
him  both  bread  and  meat  in  a  pannier,  and  in  the  bottome 
thereof  he  had  put  a  talent  of  silver,  bidding  him  for  that 
night  to  suppe  with  that,  and  the  next  morning  he  should 
provide  for  his  mariners,  or  els  he  would  complaine,  and 
accuse  him  to  the  cittizens  that  he  had  taken  money  of  the 
enemies.  Thus  it  is  written  by  Phanias  Lesbian.  Moreover 
these  first  fights  in  the  straite  of  Eubcea,  betweene  the 
Greecians,  and  the  barbarous  people,  were  nothing  to  pur- 
pose to  end  the  warres  betwene  them.  For  it  was  but  a 
taste  geven  unto  them,  which  served  the  Greecians  turne  very 
much,  by  making  them  to  see  by  experience,  and  the  manner 
of  the  fight,  that  it  was  not  the  great  multitude  of  shippes, 
nor  the  pompe  and  sumptuous  setting  out  of  the  same,  nor 
the  prowde  barbarous  showts  and  songes  of  victorie  that 
could  stande  them  to  purpose,  against  noble  harts  and 
290 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

valliant  minded  souldiers,  that  durst  grapple  with  them,  and  THEMIS- 
come  to  hands  strokes  ^vith  their  enemies :  and  that  they  TOCLES 
should  make  no  reckoning  of  all  that  bravery  and  bragges, 
but  should  sticke  to  it  like  men,  and  laye  it  on  the  jacks  of 
them.  The  which  (as  it  seemeth)  the  poet  Pindarus  under- 
stoode  very  well,  when  he  sayed  touching  the  battell  of 
Artemisium  : 

The  stowte  Athenians,  have  nowe  foundation  layed, 
unto  the  libertie  of  Greece,  by  thes  assaults  assayed. 

For  out  of  doubt  the  beginning  of  victorie,  is  to  be  bardie.  The  coast  of 
This  place  Artemisium  is  a  parte  of  the  lie  of  Euboea,  look-  Artemisium. 
ing  towards  the  North,  above  the  cittie  of  Estiaea,  lying 
directly  over  against  the  country  which  somtimes  was  under 
the  obedience  of  the  Philoctetes,  and  specially  of  the  cittie 
of  Olizon.  There  is  a  litle  temple  of  Diana,  surnamed 
Orientall,  round  about  the  which  there  are  trees,  and  a  com- 
passe  of  pillers  of  white  stone,  which  when  a  man  rubbes 
with  his  hande,  they  shewe  of  the  culler  and  savour  of 
safFerne.  And  in  one  of  those  pillers  there  is  an  inscription 
of  lamentable  verses  to  this  effect : 

When  boldest  bloods  of  Athens  by  their  might 

had  overcome,  the  numbers  infinite 

of  Asia :  they  then  in  memorie, 

of  all  their  dedes,  and  valliant  victorie 

beganne  to  build,  this  noble  monument : 

and  to  Diane  the  same  they  dyd  present, 

for  that  they  had  the  Medes  likewise  subdued, 

and  with  their  bloud,  their  hardy  hands  embrued. 

There  is  a  place  scene  also  upon  that  coast  at  this  daye,  a 
good  waye  into  the  lande,  in  the  middest  whereof  are  great 
sands  full  of  blacke  dust  as  ashes  :  and  they  thincke  that  they 
burnt  in  that  place  all  dead  bodies  and  olde  shippwracks. 
Newes  being  brought  what  had  bene  done  in  the  countrie  of 
Thermopyles,  how  that  king  Leonidas  was  dead,  and  how 
that  Xerxes  had  wonne  that  entry  into  Greece  by  lande : 
the  Greecians  then  brought  their  whole  army  by  sea  more 
into  Greece,  the  Athenians  being  in  the  rereward  in  this 
retire,  as  men  whose  hartes  were  lifte  up  with  the  glorie  of 

291 


THEMIS- 
TOCLES 

Themistocles 
stratageame. 


LIVES    OF   THE   NOBLE 

their  former  valliant  dedes.     Nowe  Themistocles  passing  by 
those  places  where  he  knewe  the  enemies  must  of  necessitie 
fall  upon  the  lee  shore  for  harborow :  he  dyd  ingrave  certen 
wordes  spoken  unto  the  lonians,  in  great  letters  in  stone, 
which  he  founde  there  by  chaunce,  or  purposely  brought 
thither  for  that  purpose,  where  there  was  very  good  barber 
for  shippes,  and  fit  places  also  to  lye  in.     These  were  the 
wordes,  that  the  lonians  should  take  the  Greecians  partes 
being  their  founders  and  auncesters,  and  such  as  fought  for 
their  libertie :  or  at  the  least  they  should  trouble  the  armie 
of  the  barbarous  people,  and  doe  them  all  the  mischief  they 
could,  when  the  Greecians  should  come  to  fight  with  them. 
By  these  words  he  hoped  either  to  bring  the  lonians  to  take 
their  parte,  or  at  the  least  he  should  make  the  barbarous 
people  jealous   and    mistrustfull   of  them.      Xerxes   being 
already  entred  in  the  uppermost  parte  of  the  province  of 
Dorica,  into  the  countrie  of  Phocida,  burning  and  destroying 
the  townes  and  citties  of  the  Phocians :  the  other  Greecians 
laye   still    and   suffered   the   invasion,  notwithstanding  the 
Athenians  did  request  them  to  mete  with   the  barbarous 
armie  in  Boeotia,  to  save  the  countrie  of  Attica,  as  before  they 
had  done,  when  they  went  by  sea  to  Artemisium.     But  they 
would  not  hearken  to  it  in  no  wise,  and  all  was  bicause  they 
were  desirous  they  should  drawe  to  the  straite  of  Peloponnesus, 
and  there   they  should   assemble   the  whole   strength  and 
power  of  Greece  within  the  barre  of  the  same,  and  make  a 
strong  substantiall  walle  from  the  one  sea  to  the  other.    The 
Athenians  were  very  angrie  at  this  devise,  and  were  half  dis- 
coraged  and  out  of  harte,  to  see  them  selves  thus  forsaken 
and  cast  of,  by  the  rest  of  the  Greecians.     For  it  was  out  of 
all  speache  that  they  alone  should  fight  against  so  many 
thousands  of  enemies :  and  therefore  their  only  remedy  was, 
to  leave  their  cittie :    and  to  get  them  to  the  sea.     The 
people  were  very  unwilling  to  listen  hereunto,  making  their 
reckoning  it  was  nedeles  to  be  carefull  to  overcome,  or  to 
save  them  selves,  having  once  forsaken  the  temples  of  their 
godds,  and  the  graves  of  their  parents.     Wherfore  Themis- 
tocles seeing  that  neither  reason,  nor  mans  persuasion  could 
bring  the  people  to  like  his  opinion 
292 


he  beganne  to  frame  a 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

devise  (as  men  doe  use  somtimes  in  tragedies)  and  to  threaten     THEMIS- 
the  Athenians  with  signes  from  heaven,  with  oracles  and      TOCLES 
aunswers  from  the  goddes.     And  the  occasion  of  Minervaes 
draggon  served  his  tume  for  a  celestiall  signe  and  token, 
which  by  good  fortune  dyd  not  appeare  in  those  dayes  in 
the  temple  as  it  was  wont  to  doe :  and  the  priests  found  the 
sacrifices  which  were  daylie  offered  to  him,  whole  and  un- 
touched by  any.    Wherefore  being  enformed  by  Themistocles 
what  they  should  doe,  they  spred  a  brute  abroade  amongest 
the  people,  that  the  goddesse  Minerva,  the  protectour  and 
defendour  of  the  cittie,  had  forsaken  it,  pointing  them  the 
waye  unto  the  sea.     And  againe  he  wanne  them  by  a  pro- 
phecie,  which   commaunded   them   to  save  them  selves  in 
walles  of  wodd  :  saying,  that  the  walles  of  wodd  dyd  signifie  Wodden 
nothing  els  but  shippes.    And  for  this  cause  he  saied,  Apollo  walles  signifie 
in  his  oracle  called  Salamina  divine,  not  miserable  nor  unfor-  ^"'PP^- 
tunate,  bicause  it  should  geve  the  name  of  a  most  happy 
victorie  which  the  Greecians  should  get  there.     And  so  at 
the  last  they  following  his  counsell,  he  made  this  decree,  that 
they  should  leave  the  cittie  of  Athens  to  the  custodie  of  the  The  Athe- 
goddesse  Pallas,  that  was  lady  and  governour  of  the  country,  nians  forsake 
and  that  all  those  which  were  of  age  to  carie  any  weapon  m^      -^.^i 
should  get  them  to  the  gallyes :  and  for  the  rest,  that  every  persuasion 
man  should  see  his  wife,  children,  and  bondmen  placed  in  and  doe  goe 
some  suer  place  as  well  as  he  could.     After  this  decree  was  to  the  sea. 
past  and  authorised  by  the  people,  the  most  parte  of  them 
did  convey  their  aged  fathers  and  mothers,  their  wives  and 
litle  children,  into  the  cittie  of  Trcezen,  where  the  Troeze- 
nians  receyved  them  very  lovingly  and  gently.    For  they  gave 
order  that  they  should  be  entertained  of  the  common  charge, 
allowing  them  a  pece,  two  obulos  of  their  money  a  daye,  and 
suffered  the  young  children  to  gather  fruite  wheresoever  they 
founde  it :  and  furthermore  dyd  hier  schoolemasters  at  the 
charge  of  the  common  wealth,  to  bring  them  up  at  schoole. 
He   that  was   the   penner   of  this    decree,  was   one   called 
Nicagoras.      The  Athenians  at  that  time,  had   no   comon 
money,  but   the    Senate   of  the   Areopagites   (as  Aristotle 
sayeth)  furnished  every  souldier  with  eight  drachmas,  which 
was  the   only  meane   that   the   gallyes  were   armed.     Yet 

293 


LIVES    OF   THE   NOBLE 

THEMIS-  Clidemus  writeth,  that  this  was  a  crafte  devised  of  Themis- 
TOCLES  tocles.  The  Athenians  being  come  downe  unto  the  haven 
of  Piraea,  he  made  as  though  Pallas  tergat  (on  the  which 
Medusus  heade  was  graven)  had  bene  lost,  and  was  not 
found  with  the  image  of  the  goddesse  :  and  faining  to  seeke 
for  it,  he  ransacked  every  corner  of  the  gallyes,  and  founde 
a  great  deale  of  silver  which  private  persones  had  hidden 
amongest  their  fardells.  This  money  was  brought  out 
unto  the  people,  and  by  this  meanes  the  souldiers  that 
were  shipped  had  wherewithall,  to  provide  them  of 
necessary  things.  When  time  came  that  they  were  to 
departe  the  haven,  and  that  all  the  cittie  of  Athens  had 
taken  sea :  one  waye  it  was  a  pittie  to  beholde  them. 
Another  waye  it  made  all  sortes  to  wounder,  that  considered 
the  boldnes  and  corage  of  those  men,  which  before  sent 
awaye  their  fathers,  and  mothers  from  them,  and  were 
nothing  moved  at  the  teares,  cries,  sherikes,  and  imbrasings 
of  their  wives,  their  children,  and  departures,  but  stowtly 
and  resolutely  helde  on  their  course  to  Salamina.  Notwith- 
standing, there  were  many  olde  cittizens  left  still  of  necessitie 
in  Athens,  bicause  they  could  not  be  removed  for  very 
extreme  age,  which  sturred  many  with  compassion  toward 
them.  There  was  besides,  a  certen  pittie  that  made  mens 
harts  to  yerne,  when  they  saw  the  poore  doggs,  beasts,  and 
cattell  ronne  up  and  downe  bleating,  mowing,  and  howling 
out  alowde  after  their  masters,  in  token  of  sorowe,  when 
they  dyd  imbarke.  Amongest  these,  there  goeth  a  straunge 
Xanthippus  tale  of  Xanthippus  dogge,  who  was  Pericles  father :  which 
dogge.  for  sorowe  his  master  had  left  him  behinde  him,  dyd  cast 

him  self  after  into  the  sea,  and  swimming  still  by  the  galleys 
side  wherein  his  master  was,  he  helde  on  to  the  He  of 
Salamina,  where  so  sone  as  the  poore  curre  landed,  his 
breath  fayled  him,  and  dyed  presently.  They  saye,  at  this 
The  dogges  daye  the  place  called  the  doggs  grave,  is  the  very  place 
grave.  where  he  was  buried.     These  were  straunge  actes  of  Themis- 

tocles,  that  beholding  the  Athenians  sory  for  the  absence  of 
Aristides,  and  fearing  least  of  spyte  he  taking  parte  with  the 
barbarous  nation,  might  have  bene  the  ruine  and  distruction 
of  the  state  of  Greece,  being  banished  five  yeres  also  before 
294 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

the  warres,  by  Themistocles  procurement :  that  he  dyd  set     THEMIS- 
forth  a  decree,  that  all  those  which  had  bene  banished  for      TOCLES 
a  time,  might  retume  home  againe,  to  doe,  to  saye,  and  to  Aristides  re- 
geve  counsell  to  the  cittizens  in  those  things,  which  they  turneth  from 
thought   best  for  the   preservation  of   Greece.      And  also  bv'rhemis^ 
where  Eurybiades,  being   generall  of  the  Greecians  whole  tocles  decree, 
army  by  sea,  for  the  worthines  of  the  cittie  of  Sparta,  but 
otherwise  a  rancke  coward  at  time  of  neede,  woidd  in  any 
case  departe   from   thence,  and   retire   into  the  goulfe   of 
Peloponnesus,  where  all  the  army  of  the  Peloponnesians  was 
by  lande  assembled  :  that  Themistocles  withstood  him,  and 
did  hinder  it  all  he  could.     At  that  time  also  it  was,  that 
Themistocles  made  so  notable  aunswers,  which  specially  are  Notable 
noted,  and  gathered  together.     For  when  Eurybiades  sayed  aunswers  of 
one  day  unto  him  :  Themistocles,  those  that  at  playes  and  Themistocles. 
games  doe  rise  before  the  company,  are  whistled  at.     It  is 
true,  said  Themistocles :  but  those  that  tarie  last  so,  doe 
never  winne  any  game.     Another  time  Eurybiades  having  a 
staffe  in  his  hande  lift  it  up,  as  though  he  would  have  striken 
him.     Strike  and  thou  wilt,  said  he,  so  thou  wilt  heare  me. 
Eurybiades  womidring  to  see  him  so  pacient,  suffered  him 
then  to  saye  what  he  would.     Then  Themistocles  beganne 
to  bring  him  to  reason :  but  one  that  stoode  by  sayed  unto 
him :  Themistocles,  for  a  man  that  hath  neither  cittie  nor 
house,  it  is  an  ill  parte  to  will  others  that  have,  to  forsake 
all.     Themistocles  turning  to  him,  replied  :   We  have  will- 
ingly forsaken  our  houses  and  walles,  sayed  he,  cowardly 
beaste  that  thou  arte,  bicause  we  would  not  become  slaves 
for  feare  to  lose  things,  that  have  neither  soule  nor  life. 
And  yet  our  cittie  I  tell  thee  is  the  greatest  of  all  Greece : 
for  it  is  a  fleete  of  two  hundred  galleys  ready  to  fight,  which 
are  come  hither  to  save  you  if  you  list.     But  if  you  will 
needes  goe  your  wayes,  and  forsake  us  the  seconde  time  : 
you  shall  heare  tell  ere  it  be  long,  that  the  Athenians  have 
another  free  cittie,  and  have  possessed  againe  as  much  good 
land,  as  that  they  have  already  lost.     These  wordes  made 
Eurybiades  presently  thincke,  and  feare,  that  the  Athenians 
would  not  goe,  and  that  they  would  forsake  them.     And 
as  another  Eretriau  was  about  to  utter  his  reason  against 

295 


THEMIS- 
TOCLES 

The  Sleue  is  a 
fishe  facioned 
like  a  sworde. 


Themistocles 
stratageame, 
by  the  which 
he  wanue  the 
battell  at 
Salamina. 


LIVES   OF   THE    NOBLE 

Themistocles  opinion  :  he  could  not  but  aunswer  him  :  Alas, 
and  must  you  my  masters  talke  of  warres  to,  that  are  like  to 
a  Sleue?  In  deede  you  have  a  sworde,  but  you  lacke  a 
harte.  Some  write,  that  whilest  Themistocles  was  talking 
thus  from  his  galley,  they  spyed  an  owle  flying  on  the  right 
hande  of  the  shippes,  which  came  to  light  on  one  of  the 
mastes  of  the  galleys :  and  that  hereupon  all  the  other 
Greecians  dyd  agree  to  his  opinion,  and  prepared  to  fight  by 
sea.  But  when  the  flete  of  their  enemies  shippes  shewed  on 
the  coastes  of  Attica,  harde  by  the  haven  Phalericus,  and 
covered  all  the  rivers  thereabouts,  as  farre  as  any  bodie  could 
see,  and  that  king  Xerxes  him  selfe  was  come  in  persone 
with  all  his  army  by  lande,  to  campe  by  the  sea  side :  so 
that  his  whole  power  both  by  lande  and  sea  might  be 
scene  in  sight :  then  the  Greecians  had  forgotten  all  Themis- 
tocles goodly  persuasions,  and  beganne  to  incline  againe  to 
the  Peloponnesians,  considering  how  they  might  recover  the 
goulfe  of  Peloponnesus,  and  they  dyd  growe  very  angry, 
when  any  man  went  about  to  talke  of  any  other  matter. 
To  be  shorte,  it  was  concluded  that  they  should  sayle  awaye 
the  next  night  following,  and  the  masters  of  the  shippes  had 
order  geven  them  to  make  all  things  readie  for  them  to 
departe.  Themistocles  perceyving  their  determination,  he 
was  marvelous  angry  in  his  minde,  that  the  Greecians  would 
thus  disperse  them  selves  a  sender,  repairing  every  man  to 
his  owne  cittie,  and  leaving  the  advantage  which  the  nature 
of  the  place,  and  the  straight  of  the  arme  of  the  sea,  where 
they  laye  in  barber  together,  did  offer  them :  and  so  he 
bethought  him  selfe  howe  this  was  to  be  holpen.  Sodainely 
the  practise  of  one  Sicinus  came  into  his  minde,  who  being  a 
Persian  borne,  and  taken  prisoner  before  in  the  warres,  loved 
Themistocles  very  well,  and  was  schoolemaster  to  his  children. 
This  Sicinus  he  secretly  sent  unto  the  king  of  Persia,  to 
advertise  him  that  Themistocles  (generall  of  the  Athenians) 
was  very  desirous  to  become  his  majesties  servaunte,  and 
that  he  dyd  let  him  understand  betimes,  that  the  Greecians 
were  determined  to  flye :  and  therefore  that  he  wished  him 
not  to  let  them  scape,  but  to  set  upon  them,  whilest  they 
were  troubled  and  affrayed,  and  farre  from  their  army  by 
^96 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

lande,  to  the  ende  that  upon  a  sodaine  he  might  overthrowe  THEMIS- 
their  whole  power  by  sea.  Xerxes  supposing  this  inteUi-  TOCLES 
gence  came  from  a  man  that  wished  him  well,  receyved  the 
messenger  with  great  joye,  and  thereupon  gave  present  order 
to  his  captaines  by  sea,  that  they  should  imbarke  their  men 
into  the  other  shippes  at  better  leysure,  and  that  presently 
they  should  put  out  with  all  possible  speede,  two  hundred 
sayle  to  followe  the  Greeeians  in  the  taile,  to  shut  up  the 
foreland  of  the  straite,  and  to  compasse  the  lies  all  about, 
that  not  one  of  his  enemies  shippes  should  scape :  and  so  it 
fell  out.  Then  Aristides  (Lysimachus  sonne)  being  the  first 
that  perceyved  it,  went  to  Themistocles  tente,  though  he 
was  his  enemie,  and  through  his  only  meanes  had  bene 
banished  before,  as  ye  have  heard  :  and  calling  him  out,  told 
him  how  they  were  environned.  Themistocles,  who  knewe 
well  enough  the  goodnes  of  this  man,  being  very  glad  he 
came  at  that  time  to  seeke  him  out,  declared  unto  him  the 
pollicie  he  had  used  by  the  message  of  Sicinus,  praying  him 
to  put  to  his  helpe  to  staye  the  Greeeians,  and  to  procure  Themistocles 
with  him,  considering  his  worde  had  more  authoritie  among  ^^^  Aristides 
them,  that  they  would  fight  within  the  straight  of  Salamina.  ^'gjher  to^'eve 
Aristides  commending  his  great  wisdome,  went  to  deale  ^vith  battell. 
the  captaines  of  the  other  gallyes,  and  to  procure  them  to 
fight.  For  all  this,  they  would  not  credit  that  he  sayed, 
untill  such  time  as  there  arrived  a  galley  of  Tenediena, 
whereof  one  Panetius  was  captaine,  who  being  stolen  out  of 
the  hoste  of  the  barbarous  army,  brought  certen  newes,  that 
the  straight  out  of  doubt  was  shut  up.  So  that  besides  the 
necessitie  which  dyd  urge  them,  the  spight  which  the  Greeeians 
concey\'ed  thereof,  dyd  provoke  them  to  hazard  the  battell. 
The  next  morning  by  breake  of  daye,  king  Xerxes  placed 
him  selfe  on  a  marvelous  steepe  highe  hill,  from  whence  he 
might  descerne  his  whole  flete,  and  the  ordering  of  his  army 
by  sea,  above  the  temple  of  Hercules,  as  Phanodemus  writetli. 
Which  is  the  narrowe  waye  or  channell  betwext  the  He  of 
Salamina,  and  the  coast  of  Attica  :  or  as  Acestodorus  sayeth, 
upon  the  confines  of  the  territories  of  Megara,  above  the 
pointe  which  they  commonly  call  the  homes.  There  Xerxes 
set  up  a  throne  of  golde,  and  had  about  him  many  secretaries, 
2P  297 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 


THEMIS- 
TOCLES 


Xerxes  king 
of  Persia  had 
a  thousand 
ships. 


to  write  all  that  was  done  in  the  battell.  But  as  Themis- 
tocles  was  sacrificing  unto  the  goddes  in  his  galley  that  was 
admiral,  they  brought  to  him  three  young  prisoners,  fayer  of 
complexion,  richely  arrayed  with  gold  and  juells,  whom  they 
sayed  were  the  children  of  Sandauce  the  kings  sister,  and  of 
prince  Autarctus.  So  soone  as  Euphrantides  the  soothesayer 
had  scene  them,  and  at  their  arrivall  observed  there  rose  a 
great  bright  flame  out  of  the  sacrifice,  and  at  the  very  selfe 
same  instant  that  one  on  his  right  hand  had  sneesed  :  he 
tooke  Themistocles  by  the  hand,  and  willed  him  to  sacrifice 
all  those  three  prisoners  unto  the  god  Bacchus,  surnamed 
Omestes,  as  much  to  saye,  as  the  cruell  Bacchus :  for  in 
doing  it,  the  Greecians  should  not  only  be  saved,  but  they 
should  have  the  victorie  over  their  enemies.  Themistocles 
woundred  much,  to  heare  so  straunge  and  terrible  a  com- 
maundement  of  the  soothsayer.  Nevertheles,  the  comon 
sorte  following  his  custome,  which  is,  to  promise  safety  soner 
in  the  greatest  daungers,  and  most  desperate  cases,  by 
straunge  and  unreasonable,  rather  then  by  reasonable  and 
ordinary  meanes :  they  beganne  to  call  upon  the  god  with 
one  voyce,  and  bringing  the  three  prisoners  neere  unto  the 
altar,  they  compelled  him  to  performe  the  sacrifice  in  that 
sorte  as  the  soothesayer  had  appointed.  Phanias  Lesbian, 
an  excellent  philosopher,  and  well  scene  in  stories  and 
antiquities,  reporteth  this  matter  thus.  As  for  the  number 
of  the  shippes  of  the  barbarous  navie :  -^schylus  the  poet, 
in  a  tragedie  which  he  intituled  the  Persians,  knowing  cer- 
tainely  the  trothe,  sayeth  thus  : 

King  Xerxes  had,  a  thousand  shippes  1  knowe, 
amongest  the  which,  two  hundred  were  (I  trowe) 
and  seven  :  which  all  the  rest  dyd  oversayle 

with  swifter  course.     This  is  withouten  fayle. 

The  Athenians  had  nine  score,  in  every  one  of  the  which 
there  were  eightene  souldiers,  whereof  foure  of  them  were 
archers,  and  all  the  rest  armed  men.  Themistocles  also  did 
with  no  lesse  skill  and  wisedom  choose  his  time  and  place  to 
fight,  forbearing  to  charge  his  enemies,  untill  the  hower  was 
come,  that  of  ordinarie  custome  the  sea  winde  arose,  and 

298 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

brought  in  a  rough  tyde  within  the  channell,  which  dyd  not  THEMIS- 
hurt  the  Graecian  gallyes,  being  made  lowe  and  snugge,  but  TOCLES 
greatly  offended  the  Persian  gallyes,  being  highe  cargged, 
heavie,  and  not  yare  of  steredge,  and  made  them  lye  side- 
long to  the  Greecians,  who  fiercely  set  upon  them  having 
allwayes  an  eye  to  Themistocles  direction,  that  best  foresawe 
their  advantage.  At  the  same  time,  Ariamenes,  Xerxes  Ariameues 
admirall,  a  man  of  great  valure  and  worthiest  of  the  Kings  Xerxes 
brethern,  bestowed  arrowes  and  dartes  as  it  were  from  the  ^"'"i'"^^^- 
walles  of  a  castell,  charging  the  gallye  of  Aminias  Decelian, 
and  Sosicles  Pedian,  which  were  joyned  and  grappled  with 
him,  and  fiercely  entring  the  same,  was  by  them  valliantly 
receyved  upon  their  pikes,  and  thrust  over  borde  into  the 
sea.  Whose  bodie  floting  amongest  other  shippewracks 
Artemisia  knowing,  caused  to  be  caried  to  king  Xerxes. 
Nowe  whilest  this  battell  stoode  in  these  termes,  they  saye 
that  there  appeared  a  great  flame  in  the  element,  toward  the 
cittie  of  Eleusin,  and  that  a  lowde  voyce  was  heard  through 
all  the  plaine  of  Thriasia  unto  the  sea,  as  if  there  had  bene  a 
number  of  men  together,  that  had  songe  out  alowde,  the  holy 
songe  of  lacchus.  And  it  seemed  by  litle  and  litle,  that 
there  rose  a  clowde  in  the  ayer  from  those  which  sange :  that 
left  the  land,  and  came  and  lighted  on  the  gallyes  in  the 
sea.  Other  affirmed,  that  they  sawe  armed  men,  which  did 
reache  out  their  hands  from  the  He  of  ^Egina,  towards  the 
Greecian  gallyes  :  and  they  thought  they  were  the  .^acides, 
for  whose  helpe  they  all  prayed  before  the  battell  was 
begonne.  The  first  man  of  the  Athenians  that  tooke  any  of 
the  enemies  shippes,  was  Lycomedes,  a  captaine  of  a  gallye : 
who  having  taken  very  rich  furniture  and  flagges,  did  after- 
wards consecrate  them  to  Apollo  laurell :  as  ye  would  saye, 
victorious.  The  other  Greecians  in  the  fronte  being  equall 
in  number  with  the  barbarous  shipps,  by  reason  of  the 
straightnes  of  the  arme  of  the  sea  wherein  they  fought,  and 
so  straightned  as  they  could  not  fight  but  by  one  and  one, 
where  by  the  Barbarians  disorderly  layed  one  another 
abourde,  that  they  did  hinder  them  selves  with  their  over 
multitude :  and  in  the  end  were  so  sore  pressed  upon  by  the 
Greecians,  that  they  were  constrayned  to  flye  by  night,  after 

299 


LIVES    OF    THE    NOBLE 

THEMIS-     they  had  fought  and  mainteined  battell,  until  it  was  very 
TOCLES      darke.     So  the  Graecians  wanne  that  glorious  and  famous 

The  Grecians   victorie :    of  the    which   maye   truly   be   affirmed   that,   as 

victorieof  the  Simonides  sayeth  : 

Persians  navy 

°y  ^®®'  Was  never  yet,  nor  Greeke  nor  Barbarous  crew 

that  could  by  sea,  so  many  men  subdew  : 
Nor  that  obteind,  so  famous  victorie 
in  any  fight,  against  their  enemie. 

Thus  was  the  victorie  wonne  through  the  valliantnes  and 

corage   of  those   that  fought  that  battell,  but  especially 

through   Themistocles   great  policie   and  wisdome.     After 

this  battell  Xerxes  being  mad  for  his  losse,  thought  to  fill 

up  the  arme  of  the  sea,  and  to  passe  his  armie  by  lande, 

upon  a  bridge,  into  the  He  of  Salamina.      Themistocles, 

bicause  he  would  feele  Aristides  opinion,  tolde  him  as  they 

were  talking  together,  that  he  thought  best  to  goe  and 

occupie  the  straight  of  Hellespont  with  the  armie  by  sea,  to 

•  breake  the  bridge  of  shippes  which  Xerxes  had  caused  to  be 

made :  to  the  ende,  said  he,  that  we  maye  take  Asia  into 

Europe.    Aristides  liked  not  this  opinion  :  for  we  have  (said 

he)  fought  all  this  while  against  this  barbarous  King,  who 

thought  but  to  playe  with  us :  But  if  we  shut  him  within 

Greece,  and  bring  him  to  fight  of  necessitie  to  save  his  life : 

such  an  enemy  that  commaundeth  so  great  an  armie,  will  no 

more  stand  still  as  a  looker  on,  and  set  at  his  ease  under  his 

golden  pavilion,  to  see  the  pastime  of  the  battell,  but  will 

prove  everie  waye,  and  be  him  selfe  in  every  place  at  all 

assayes  to  save  him  self  from  such  a  straight  and  daunger. 

Thus  with   politicke   care  and   foresight,   he   maye   easely 

amend  his  former  fault  committed  by  negligence,  and  doe 

well  enough,  when  he  shall  see  his  life  and  Kingdome  both 

Aristides  depend  upon  it.     Therefore  Themistocles,  I  would  thincke 

counsell  unto  not  best  to  breake  his  bridge  at  all,  which  he  hath  caused  to 

J^^tT^^b'    k'  ^^  made :  but  rather  if  we  could,  to  build  another  to  it,  to 

inff  of  Xerxes   drive  him  out  of  Europe  as  sone  as  we  could.     Themistocles 

bridge.  then  replied  :  Seeing  you  thincke  this  were  good  to  be  done, 

we  must  all  laye  our  heades  together,  to  devise,  how  he  maye 

be  forced  to  come  out  assone  as  we  could.    They  breaking  of 

300 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

with  this  resolution,  Themistocles  sent  immediately  one  of  THEMIS- 
the  Kings  eunuches,  called  Arsaces,  that  was  one  of  the  TOCLES 
gromes  of  his  chamber,  whom  he  found  out  amongest  the  Themistocles 
prisoners,  and  by  him  he  sent  this  message  unto  the  King,  stratageame. 
That  the  Greecians  having  wonne  the  battell  of  him  by  sea, 
had  decreed  in  their  counsell,  how  they  would  goe  to  the 
straight  of  Hellespont,  to  breake  the  bridge  of  shippes  he 
had  caused  to  be  made  there.  Whereof  he  thought  good 
to  advertise  him,  for  the  goodwil  he  did  beare  him,  and  to 
the  ende  he  might  bethincke  him  betimes,  to  get  him  away 
to  the  sea  within  his  own  dominion,  and  so  passe  backe  againe 
into  Asia  as  sone  as  he  could,  whilest  he  gave  order  to  his 
allies  and  confederates,  to  staye  follo^ving  him  at  the  poope. 
The  barbarous  King  understanding  these  newes,  was  so 
afFrayed,  that  he  hoysed  away  with  all  possible  speede.  The 
further  foresight  and  great  wisdome  of  Themistocles,  and 
Aristides,  in  marine  causes,  dyd  manifestly  appeare  after- 
wards in  the  battell  the  Greecians  fought  before  the  cittie  of 
Platea,  against  Mardonius,  king  Xerxes  lieutenante :  who 
having  but  a  smal  power  of  the  King  his  soveraines  there, 
dyd  yet  put  the  Greecians  to  great  distresse,  and  in  hazard 
to  have  lost  all.  Of  all  the  townes  and  citties  that  fought 
in  this  battell,  Herodotus  writeth,  that  the  cittie  of  ^Egina 
wanne  the  fame  for  valliantnes  above  the  rest :  and  of  private 
men,  among  the  Grecians,  Themistocles  was  judged  the 
worthiest  man :  althoucrh  it  was  sore  ajjainst  their  willes, 
bicause  they  envied  much  his  glory.  For  after  the  battell 
done,  all  the  captaines  being  gotten  into  the  straight  of 
Peloponnesus,  and  having  sworne  upon  the  altar  of  their 
sacrifices,  that  they  would  geve  their  voyces  after  their 
consciences,  to  those  they  thought  had  best  deserved  it : 
every  one  gave  him  selfe  the  first  place  for  worthines,  and 
the  seconde  unto  Themistocles.  The  Lacedaemonians  caried  Themistocles 
him  into  Sparta,  where  they  judged  the  honour  and  dignitie  honored 
to  their  admiral!  Eurybiades  :  but  the  wisedome  and  pollicie  ^^^'^  ^"  *^c 
they  attributed  to  Themistocles.  In  token  thereof  they  gave 
him  an  olive  braunche,  and  the  goodliest  coche  that  was  in 
their  cittie  :  and  moreover  they  sent  three  hundred  of  their 
lusty  youthes  to  accompany  him,  and  couducte  him  out  of 

301 


THEMIS- 
TOCLES 


Themistocles 

ambition 

noted. 


Themistocles 
sayings. 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

their  countrie.  They  saye,  at  the  next  feastes  and  assembly 
of  the  playes  Olympicall  that  were  made  after  this  victorie : 
when  Themistocles  was  once  come  into  the  showe  place  where 
these  games  were  played,  the  people  looked  no  more  on  them 
that  fought,  but  all  cast  their  eyes  on  him,  shewing  him  to 
the  straungers  which  knewe  him  not,  with  their  fingers,  and 
by  clapping  of  their  handes  dyd  witnesse  howe  much  they 
esteemed  him.  Whereat  he  him  selfe  tooke  so  great  delite, 
that  he  confessed  to  his  familiar  friends,  he  then  dyd  reape 
the  fruite  and  benefit  of  his  sundry  and  painefull  services 
he  had  taken  in  hande,  for  the  preservation  of  Greece :  so 
ambitious  was  he  of  nature,  and  covetous  of  honour,  as  we 
maye  easely  perceyve  by  certen  of  his  dedes  and  notable 
sayings  they  have  noted  of  him.  For  being  chosen  admirall 
of  Athens  he  never  dispatched  any  causes  private  or  publicke, 
howsoever  they  fell  out,  untill  the  very  daye  of  his  departure, 
and  taking  shippe :  and  all  bicause  that  men  seeing  him  ryd 
much  busines  at  once,  and  to  speake  with  so  many  persones 
together,  they  should  esteeme  him  to  be  the  notabler  man, 
and  of  the  greater  authoritie.  Another  time  he  walked  upon 
the  sandes  by  the  sea  side,  beholdmg  the  dead  bodies  of  the 
barbarous  people,  which  the  sea  had  cast  up  upon  the  shore : 
and  seing  some  of  them  that  had  on  still  their  chaynes  of 
golde,  and  bracelets,  he  passed  by  on  his  waye,  but  shewed 
them  yet  to  his  familiar  friende  that  followed  him,  and 
sayed  unto  him :  Take  thou  those,  for  thou  art  not  Themis- 
tocles. And  unto  one  Antiphates,  who  in  his  youth  had 
bene  a  goodly  young  boye,  and  at  that  time  dyd  scornefully 
behave  him  selfe  unto  him,  making  no  reckoning  of  him : 
and  now  that  he  sawe  him  in  authoritie  came  to  see  him,  he 
sayed  :  O  my  young  sonne,  and  friend  :  we  are  both  even  at 
one  time  (but  to  late)  growen  wise.  He  sayed  the  Athenians 
dyd  not  esteeme  of  him  in  time  of  peace :  but  when  any 
storme  of  warres  were  towardes,  and  they  stoode  in  any 
daunger,  they  ranne  to  him  then,  as  they  ronne  to  the 
shadowe  of  a  plane  tree,  upon  any  sodaine  raine  :  and  after 
fayer  weather  come  againe,  they  cut  awaye  then  the  braunches, 
and  bowghes  thereof.  There  was  a  man  borne  in  the  He  of 
Seripha,  who  being  fallen  out  with  him,  dyd  cast  him  in  the 
302 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

teethe,  that  it  was  not  for  his  worthines,  but  for  the  noble     THEMIS- 
cittie  wherein  he  was  borne,  that  he  had  wonne  such  glorie.      TOCLES 
Thou  saycst  true  sayed  he :  but  neither  should  I  ever  have 
wonne  any  great  honour,  if  I  had  bene  a  Seriphian,  nor  thou 
also  if  thou  haddest  bene  an  Athenian.     An  other  time  one 
of  the  captaines  of  the  cittie,  having  done  good  service  unto 
the  common   weale,  made  boast  before  Themistocles,  and 
compared   his   service   equall    with    his.      Themistocles    to 
aunswer  him,  tolde  him  a  prety  tale.     That  the  working  A  prety  tale 
daye  brawled  on  a  time  with  the  holy  daye,  repining  against  of  Themis- 
her,  that  he  laboured  for  his  living  continually,  and  howe  *o^^^^- 
she  dyd  nothing  but  fill  her  bellie,  and  spende  that  they  had 
gotten.     Thou  hast  reason  sayed  the  holy  daye.     But  if  I 
had  not  bene  before  thee,  thou  haddest  not  bene  here  nowe. 
And  so,  if  I  had  not  bene  then  :  where  had  you  my  masters 
bene  nowe  ?     His  owne  sonne  was  a  litle  to  sawsie  with  his 
mother,  and  with  him  also,  bearing  him  self  over  boldely  of 
her  good  will,  by  meanes  of  her  cockering  of  him.     Where- 
upon being  merely  disposed,  he  would  saye  that  his  sonne 
could  doe  more  then  any  man  in  all  Greece.    For,  sayeth  he,  Themistocles 
the  Athenians  commaunde  the  Graecians,  I  commaunde  the  saying  of  his 
Athenians,  my  wife  commaundeth  me,  and  my  sonne  com-  s**"^"^- 
maundeth  her.     Moreover  bicause  he  would  be  singular  by 
him  selfe  above  all  other  men :  having  a  pece  of  lande  he 
would  sell,  he  willed  the  crier  to  proclaime  open  sale  of  it  in 
the  market  place,  aad  with  all  he  should  adde  unto  the  sale, 
that  his  lande  laye  by  a  good  neighbour.     An  other  time, 
two  men   being   suters   to  his  daughter,   he  preferred  the 
honester  before  the  richer,  saying :  he  had  rather  have  to  his 
sonne  in  lawe  a  man  that  lacked  ffoodes,  then  goodes  to 
lacke  a  man.     Ihese  were  Themistocles  pleasaunt  conceites 
and  aunswers.     But  after  he  had  done  all  these  things  we 
have  spoken  of  before,  he  tooke  in  hande  to  buylde  againe 
the  cittie  and  walles  of  Athens,  and  dyd  corrupt  the  officers  Themistocles 
of  Lacedaemonia  with  money,  to  the  end  they  should  not  buylt  a^g^aine 
hinder  his  purpose,   as   Theopompus   writeth.       Or   as   all  J{jg  cittlrof 
other  saye  when  he  had  deceyved  them  by  this  subtiltie,  he  Athens, 
went  unto  Sparta  as  ambassadour,  sent  thither  of  purpose 
upon  the  complaintes  of  the  Lacedaemonians,  for  that  the 

303 


LIVES    OF   THE   NOBLE 


THEMIS- 
TOCLES 


A  subtle 
fetche  of 
Themistocles. 


The  haven 
of  Piraea 
fortified. 


Athenians  dyd  inclose  their  cittie  againe  with  walles,  who 
were  accused  unto  the  counsaill  of  Sparta,  by  an  orator 
called  Poliarchus,  who  was  sent  thither  from  the  ^ginetes, 
of  purpose  to  prosecute  this  matter  against  the  Athenians. 
Themistocles  stowtely  denied  it  to  them,  and  prayed  them 
for  better  understanding  of  the  trothe,  they  would  sende 
some  of  their  men  thither  to  see  it.  This  was  but  a  fetche 
only  to  winne  by  this  delaye,  the  Athenians  so  muche  more 
time  to  rayse  up  their  walles,  and  that  the  Athenians  should 
keepe  as  ostages  for  suertie  of  his  persone,  those  they  should 
send  to  Athens,  to  bring  backe  the  reporte  thereof :  and  so 
it  fell  out.  For  the  Lacedaemonians  being  informed  of  the 
trothe  as  it  was,  dyd  him  no  hurte,  but  dissembling  the  mis- 
liking  they  had  to  be  thus  abused  by  him,  sent  him  awaye 
safe  and  sounde,  Afterwardes  he  made  them  also  mende 
and  fortifie  the  haven  of  Piraea,  having  considered  the 
situation  of  the  place,  and  all  to  incline  the  cittie  to  the  sea. 
Wherein  he  dyd  directly  contrary  to  all  the  counsell  of  the 
auncient  kings  of  Athens :  who  seeking  (as  they  saye)  to 
withdrawe  their  people  from  the  sea,  and  to  accustome  them 
to  live  upon  the  lande,  by  planting,  sowing,  and  plowing 
their  groundes,  dyd  devise  and  geve  out  abroade,  the  fable 
they  tell  of  the  goddesse  Pallas.  And  that  is  this,  how  she 
contending  with  Neptune  about  the  patronage  of  the  country 
of  Athens,  brought  forth  and  shewed  to  the  judges  the  olyve 
tree,  by  meanes  whereof  she  prevayled,  and  obteined  the  pre- 
heminence.  Even  so  Themistocles  dyd  not  joyne  the  haven 
of  Piraea,  unto  the  cittie  of  Athens,  as  the  comicall  poet 
Aristophanes  sayeth :  but  rather  joyned  the  cittie  unto  the 
haven  Piraea,  and  the  lande  unto  the  sea.  By  this  meanes 
he  made  the  people  strong  against  the  nobilitie,  and  brought 
the  communaltie  to  waxe  bolder  then  they  were  before,  by 
reason  the  rule  and  authoritie  fell  into  the  handes  of  saylers, 
mariners,  pilottes,  shippemasters,  and  such  kinde  of  seafaring 
men  :  so  as  the  pulpet  where  all  the  oracles  were  made,  stoode 
in  the  market  place  of  Pnyx,  and  dyd  looke  towardes  the 
sea.  But  the  thirtie  tyrannes  that  came  in  afterwardes,  dyd 
remove  it,  and  turne  it  towardes  the  lande  :  holding  opinion 
to  be  strong  by  sea,  was  it  that  dyd  mainteine  the  authoritie 
304 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

of  the  popular  state.  And  that  contrariwise  they  which  live  THEMIS- 
by  the  labour  and  toyle  of  the  earthe,  doe  more  willingly  TOCLES 
like  the  government  of  Nobilitie.  Themistocles  called  to 
minde  another  matter  also  of  greater  importance,  to  make 
the  cittie  of  Athens  of  a  greater  power  by  sea.  For  after 
the  retire  of  Xerxes,  and  that  all  the  fleete  and  navie  of  the 
Graecians  wintered  in  the  haven  of  Pagases :  he  sayed  one 
daye  in  an  open  assembly  of  the  people,  that  he  had  thought 
of  a  thing  which  would  be  very  profitable  and  beneficiall  for 
them,  but  it  was  not  to  be  tolde  openly.  The  people  willed 
him  then  to  imparte  it  to  Aristides :  and  if  he  thought  it 
good,  they  would  execute  it  speedely.  Themistocles  then 
tolde  Aristides :  the  thing  he  had  considered  of,  was  to  burne 
the  Arcenal  where  the  Graecians  navy  laye,  and  to  set  on 
fire  all  their  shippes.  Aristides  hearing  his  purpose,  returned 
to  the  people,  and  tolde  them  :  howe  nothing  could  be 
more  profitable,  but  with  all  more  unjust,  then  that  which 
Themistocles  had  devised.  The  Athenians  then  willed  Aris-  The  equitie 
tides  it  should  be  let  alone  altogether.  Furthermore  when  of  the  Athe- 
the  Lacedaemonians  had  exhibited  their  petition  to  the  °^^°^* 
counsell  of  the  Amphictyons  (that  is  the  generall  counsaill 
of  all  the  states  of  Graece  assembled)  howe  the  townes  and 
citties  of  Graece  which  had  not  bene  parties  with  the 
Graecians  to  the  league,  against  the  barbarous  people,  should 
be  put  of  wholy  from  this  counsaill.  Themistocles  dowting 
of  the  Argives,  the  Thessalians,  and  the  Thebans  also  should 
by  this  meanes  be  exempted,  that  the  Lacedaemonians  would 
be  then  the  greater  number  in  voyces,  and  by  this  meanes 
might  doe  what  they  would  in  this  counsell :  he  spake  so 
consideratly  for  the  citties  which  they  would  have  thus  dis- 
charged, that  he  made  the  petitioners  in  the  assembly  utterly 
to  chaunge  their  opinion.  Declaring,  howe  there  were  but 
one  and  thirtie  citties  comprised  only  the  league,  and  yet 
that  some  of  them  were  very  weake  and  small :  and  howe  it 
were  no  reason,  that  rejecting  all  the  rest  of  Grece,  the 
greatest  authoritie  of  this  counsaill  should  fall  into  the 
handes  of  two  or  three  of  the  chiefest  citties  alone.  For 
this  cause  chiefly  the  Lacedaemonians  dyd  ever  beare  him 
extreme  hatred,  and  dyd  set  up  Cimon  all  they  could,  to  be 
2Q  305 


LIVES   OF   THE    NOBLE 

THEMIS-     allwayes   adversary  opposite  unto  him,  and  as  it  were  to 
TOCLES      bearde  him  in  all  matters  of  state,  and  the  government  of 
Athens.     They  procured  him  besides,  the  ill  will  and  dis- 
pleasure of  all  the  friendes  and  confederates  of  the  Athenians, 
for  that  he  went  sayling  still  to  and  fro  alongest  the  lies, 
exacting  money  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  same.     And  this 
is  to  be  knowen  by  the  matter  propounded  by  him  to  the 
Andrians  (of  whom  he  would  have  had  money)  and  by  the 
aunswer   they  made   him,  as    Herodotus  writeth.      Which 
Themistocles    was,  howe  he  had  brought  them  two  mightie  goddes  :  Love, 
goddes.  Love    and  Force.     And  they  aunswered  him  againe,  that  they  also 
and  Force.        ]^a,d  two  great  goddesses,  which  kept  them  from  geving  of 
The  Andrians  him   any    money :    Povertie,   and    Impossibilitie.      And   to 
goddesses,        make  this  good  also  :  Timocreon  the  Rhodian  poet  galled  him 
Povertie,  ^q  ^j^g  quicke,  when  he  sharpely  taunted  him,  for  calling 

mpossi  1 1 16.  j^g^jjy  j^oj^g  againe  for  money  that  were  banished :  and  howe 
for  covetousnes  of  money  he  had  betrayed,  and  forsaken,  his 
hoste  and  friende.  The  verses  wherein  this  matter  is  men- 
tioned, are  to  this  effecte  : 

Who  list  commend  worthy  Pausanias, 
Xanthippus  or  good  Leotychides, 
yet  shall  I  seeme  but  light  thereof  to  passe, 
compared  with  valliant  Aristides. 

For  yet  was  naye,  the  like  in  Athens  towne, 
nor  never  shall  come  none  of  like  renowne. 

Themistocles  by  right  and  due  deserte, 
is  hated  of  Latona,  for  his  lyes, 
and  for  he  bare  a  traitrous  wicked  harte, 
who  like  a  wretche,  and  nigard  did  devise, 
for  small  rewardes,  his  host  Timocreon 
to  holde,  out  of  his  countrie  lalison. 

He  tooke  for  bribe  (unjustly  yet  therewhile) 
of  redy  coyne  three  talents  fayre  and  bright, 
revoking  such  as  pleased  him,  from  exile 
and  banishing  full  many  a  worthy  wight. 

Or  putting  them  to  death,  without  cause  tolde, 
he  gate  thereby,  great  heapes  of  coyne  and  golde. 

But  in  the  ende  (O  right  reward  for  such) 
this  bribing  wretch,  was  forced  for  to  holde, 
a  tipling  bowthe,  most  like  a  clowne  or  snuche, 
at  holy  feastes  and  pastimes  manifold, 
which  were  amongest  the  people  in  those  dayes 
Istmiciane  folke,  dyd  use  the  like  allwayes. 
306 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

And  there  he  served,  his  gests  with  cold  meat  still,  THEMIS- 

whilest  they  that  tasted  of  his  cookerie,  TOCLES 

gan  wishe  that  they  (to  ease  their  weary  will) 
had  never  lived  to  see  the  treccherie, 
of  false  Themistocles,  and  that  he  might 
no  longer  live,  which  wrought  them  such  despight. 

After  this,  he  dyd  more  openly  blase  him  to  the  worlde, 
when  he  was  banished  and  condemned  :  in  a  songe  that  had 
beginning  thus : 

O  Muse,  let  these  my  verses  be  disperst, 
throughout  all  Graece,  since  they  deserve  no  lesse  : 
and  since  the  truthe  which  is  in  them  rehearst, 
deserveth  fame,  whom  no  man  should  suppresse. 

They  saye  the  cause  was,  why  this  Timocreon  was  banished  : 
the  friendshippe  which  he  had  with  the  Barbarous  people,  and 
for  geving  them  intelligence.  Whereof  Themistocles  was  one 
that  judicially  condemned  him.  Wherefore  when  Themis- 
tocles him  selfe  was  accused  afterwards  of  the  same  faulte, 
Timocreon  then  made  these  verses  following  against  him  : 

Timocreon  was  not  without  his  pheere, 

which  did  conferre  with  Medes  prively. 
Since  others  mo,  the  selfe  same  blame  might  beare, 

mo  foxes  lurke  in  dennes  as  well  as  I. 

Besides  these  verses,  Themistocles  owne  cittizens  for  the 
ill  will  they  bare  him,  were  contented  to  heare  him  ill  spoken 
of.  Therefore  while  he  sought  wayes,  to  redresse  all  this : 
he  was  driven  to  use  such  meane,  which  more  increased  their 
hatred  toward  him.  For  in  his  orations  to  the  people,  he 
dyd  ofte  remember  them  of  the  good  service  he  had  done 
them :  and  perceyving  howe  they  were  offended  withall,  he 
was  driven  to  saye :  Why,  are  ye  weary  so  ofte  to  receyve 
good  by  one  man  ?  Many  of  them  were  very  angry  with 
him  also,  when  he  surnamed  Diana  (in  the  dedication  of 
her  temple  he  made  unto  her)  Aristobule,  as  much  to  saye, 
as  the  good  counseller :  meaning  thereby,  howe  he  had 
geven  grave  and  wise  counsell,  both  unto  his  cittie,  and  to 
all  the  rest  of  the  Grecians.  He  built  this  temple  also 
neere  his  house,  in  a  place  called  Melita,  where  the  hange- 
men  doe  cast  the  dead  bodies  of  those  that  were  executed, 

307 


THEMIS. 
TOCLES 


Themistocles 
banished  for 
five  yere. 


Pausanias 
revealeth  his 
treason  unto 
Themistocles. 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

and  throwe  the  ragges  and  halters  endes  of  those  that  were 
hanged,  or  otherwise  put  to  death  by  lawe.  There  was  also 
in  our  dayes  in  the  temple  of  Diana  Aristobule,  a  litle  image 
of  Themistocles,  which  shewed  plainely,  that  he  was  not  only 
wise,  and  of  a  noble  minde,  but  also  of  a  great  majestie  and 
countenaunce  in  face.  In  the  ende,  the  Athenians  banished 
him  Athens  for  five  yeres,  bicause  they  would  plucke  downe 
his  overgreat  corage  and  authoritie,  as  they  dyd  use  to  serve 
those,  whose  greatnes  they  thought  to  be  more,  then  common 
equalitie  that  ought  to  be  among  cittizens  would  beare. 
For  this  manner  of  banishment  for  a  time,  called  Ostra- 
cismo?i,  was  no  punishment  for  any  faulte  committed,  but  a 
mitigation  and  taking  away  of  the  envie  of  the  people,  which 
delited  to  plucke  downe  their  stomaks  that  to  much  seemed  to 
exceede  in  greatnes  :  and  by  this  meanes  they  tooke  awaye  the 
poyson  of  his  malice,  with  diminishing  his  glorie  and  honour. 
So  Themistocles  being  banished  Athens,  went  to  dwell  in 
Argos.  In  this  meane  season,  Pausanias  trecchery  fell  out, 
which  gave  his  enemies  occasion  to  lye  heavie  on  his  backe. 
But  he  which  became  his  accuser,  and  was  partener  of  the 
treason,  was  one  called  Leobotes  (Alcmeons  sonne)  borne  in 
a  village  called  Agraula.  Besides  this,  the  Spartans  also 
dyd  sit  on  his  skirtes,  and  charged  him  sorely.  For  Pau- 
sanias never  before  revealed  to  Themistocles  the  treason  he 
had  purposed,  although  he  was  his  very  familliar  friende. 
But  after  he  sawe  Themistocles  was  banished,  and  dyd  take 
his  exile  very  unpaciently  :  then  Pausanias  was  bolde  to  open 
his  treason  to  him,  to  procure  him  to  take  his  parte,  and 
shewed  him  the  letters  the  king  of  Persia  had  written  to 
him,  and  all  to  sturre  him  up  against  the  Graecians,  as 
against  ungratefuU  and  unnaturall  people.  Howbeit  The- 
mistocles shooke  him  of,  and  tolde  him  plainely  he*  would 
be  no  partener  of  his  treason.  Notwithstanding,  he  never 
revealed  it  to  any  living  creature,  nor  discovered  the  prac- 
tise he  intended  :  hoping  either  he  would  have  geven  it  over, 
or  that  shortely  it  would  appeare  by  some  other  meane, 
considering  he  so  fondly  aspired  to  things  of  great  daunger, 
and  without  purpose  or  possibilitie.  After  Pausanias  was 
condemned,  and  had  suffered  paynes  of  death  for  the  same  : 
308 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

they  found  amongest  his  papers,  certaine  writings  and  letters,     THEMIS- 
which  made  Themistocles  to  be  very  sore  suspected.    Where-      TOCLES 
upon  the  Lacedaemonians  on  the  one  side  cried  out  of  him :  and  Themistocles 
his  enemies  and  ill  willers  at  Athens  accused  him  on  th'  other  suspected  of 
side.     To  the  which  he  made  aunswer  by  letters  from  the   '^®*^°'^- 
beginning,  and  wrote  unto  the  people,  it  was  not  likely  that 
he  (who  sought  all  the  wayes  to  rule,  and  was  not  borne  to 
serve,   neither    had    any   minde   thereto)   would  ever  have 
thought  in  his  heade,  to  sell  his   owne  libertie,  and  the 
Graecians   also  unto  the  Barbarous   people  their   enemies. 
Notwithstanding  this  purgation  of  his,  the  people  by  the 
procurement  of  his  enemies,  sent  to  apprehende  him,  and  to 
bring  him  before  the  states  of  all  Graece,  to  be  judged  by 
that  counsaill.     Whereof  Themistocles  having  intelligence 
in  time,  he  dyd  convey  him  selfe  into  the  He  of  Corphu,  Themistocles 
bicause  the  citie  there  was  greatly  beholding  to  him,  for  a  ^^^  ^^^^  ^'^^ 
certen  pleasure  in  time  paste  he  had  done  them.     For  they     ^^     ^^^ 
being  at  sute  and  strife  with  the  Corinthians,  he  tooke  up  the 
matter  betweene  them,  and  gave  judgement  on  their  side, 
and  condemned  the  Corinthians  to  paye  them  twenty  talents 
damages :  and   did  set  downe  an  order,  that  they  should 
occupie  the  He  of  Leucade  in  common  together,  as  ground 
that  had  bene  inhabited  with  the  people,  aswell  of  the  one 
cittie,  as  of  the  other.     From    thence  he  fled  to  Epirus, 
whether  being  followed  by  the  Athenians,  and  the  Lacedae- 
monians, he  was  compelled  to  venter  him  selfe  upon  a  doubt- 
full  and  very  daungerous  hope.     For  he  went  to  yelde  him 
selfe  into  the  hands  of  Admetus,  king  of  the  Molossians. 
Who    having   heretofore   made   certen    requestes   unto  the 
Athenians,  and  being  shamefully  denied  them  by  meanes 
of  Themistocles  (who  then  was  at  his  chiefest  height  and 
authoritie)  the  King  was  marvelously  offended  with  him : 
and  it  was  a  clere  case  in  deede,  that  if  he  could  then  have 
layed  handes  on  him,  he  would  have  bene  revenged  of  him 
throughly.       Howbeit   feeling   the   present   miserie   of  his 
exile,  he  thought  he  might  lesse  feare  the  Kings  olde  quar-  '^®  manner 

rell  and  displeasure,  then  the  freshe  hate  and  envie  of  his  ?•  f^^ii  ^^^' 

__-,     '  1  •  A   1  tion  among 

contriemen.       Whereupon    he   went    unto    kmg   Admetus,  the  Molos- 

trusting  to  his  mercie,  and  became  an  humble  suter  to  him  siaus. 

309 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

THEMIS-     in  a  straunge  extraordinarie  sorte.     For  he  tooke  the  Kings 
TOCLES      litle  young  sonne  in  his  armes,  and  went  and  kneeled  downe 
before  the  altar  in  his  chappell :  which  humble  manner  of 
suinge  the  Molossians  take  to  be  most  effectuall,  and  such 
as  they  dare  not  denie,  nor  refuse.     Some  saye  that  Queene 
Phthia  her  selfe,  the  Kings  wife,  dy  d  enforme  him  of  this  their 
country  custome  and  manner,  and  brought  her  litle  sonne 
also  neere  unto  the  altar.     Other  write  also,  that  it  was 
Admetus  him  selfe  that  taught  and  shewed  him  this  inforc- 
ing  manner  of  petition,  only  for  a  cloke  to  excuse  him  selfe 
to  those  that  should  come  to  demaunde  Themistocles  of  him  : 
that  by  duetie  of  religion  he  was  so  straightly  bounde  and 
restrained,  that  he  might  not  deliver  him  out  of  his  protec- 
tion.    In  this  meane  time,  Epicrates  Acharnian  founde  the 
meanes  secretly  to  convey  Themistocles  wife  and  children  out 
of  Athens,  and  dyd  send  them  privelie  unto  him  :  whereupon 
he  was  afterwards  accused,  and  put  to  death,  upon  Cimons 
accusation  and  motion,  as  Stesimbrotus  writeth.     Who  not 
remembring  those  matters  I  knowe  not  howe,  or  making  as 
though  Themistocles  had  not  remembred  him  selfe,  doth  saye, 
that  Themistocles  sayled   into   Sicile,  where  he  sought  to 
mary  Hierons  daughter,  the  tyranne  of  Syracusa :  promising 
him  if  he  would  let  him  have  her,  he  would  assure  him  to 
conquer  all  Grece  for   him,  and  to  bring  them  under  his 
obedience.     But   Hieron   refusing   this   offer,  Themistocles 
went  from  thence  into  Asia :    but  that  is  not  likely.     For 
Theophrastus  Avriteth  in  his  booke  intituled  of  Kingdomes, 
that  Hieron  having  sent  certain  running  horses  to  the  feast 
of  games  Olympicall,  and  having  set  up  a  marvelous  riche 
and  sumptuous  tent  there  :  Themistocles  made   an  oration 
to  the  Grecians,  declaring  unto  them  how  they  should  teare 
the  tyrannes  tente  in  peces,  and  not  to  suffer  his  horses  to 
ronne  with  other  swifte  and  light  horses,  and  to  cary  away 
the  price  in  those  holy  games.    Thucydides  againe  declareth, 
howe  he  went  unto  the  other  sea,  and  imbarked  in  the  cittie 
of  Pydne,  being  knowen  of  never  a  man  in  the  shippe,  untill 
such  time  as  the  winde  beganne  to  carie  them  into  the  He 
of  Naxos,  which  the  Athenians  by  chaunce  dyd  besiege  at 
that  time,  where  being  afeard  to  be  set  on  lande,  he  was 
310 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

forced  to  bewraye  him  self  to  the  master  of  the  shippe,  and     THEMIS- 

the    masters    mate,   and    wrought   them,   what   with   fayer      TOCLES 

wordes  and  what  with  threates  (by  saying  he  would  accuse 

them  to  the  Athenians,  that  they  dyd  not  ignorantly  receive 

him  in,  but  hiered  for  money)  so  as  he  compelled  them  to 

sayle  on  further,  and  to  cary  him  into  Asia.     As  for  his 

goodes,  his  friendes  saved  the  most  parte  of  them,  and  sent 

them  into  Asia  to  him.     But  for  those  that  came  to  light, 

and  were  confiscate  unto  the  state  :    Theopompus  writeth, 

they  dyd  amounte  to  the  value  of  one   hundred   talents. 

And  Theophrastus  sayeth,  but  to  foure  score  talents  only. 

So  that  all  his  goodes  was  not  worth  three  talents,  when  he 

beganne  to  governe  the  state  of  the  common  weale.    When 

he  came  unto  the  cittie  of  Cuma,  he  perceyved  that  all  the 

coastes  by  sea  were  layed  for  him  to  apprehende  him,  and 

that  he  had  many  spyalls  upon  him  :  among  the  which,  these 

were  two  special!  noted  men,  Ergoteles,  and  one  Pythodorus, 

the  reward  being  very  great,  for  men  that  sought  their  gayne 

any  waye  they  could.    For  the  king  of  Persia  had  proclaymed 

by  sound   of  trumpet,  two  hundred   talents   to    him   that 

brought  him  Themistocles.     Whereupon  he  fled  unto  a  litle 

towne  of  ^olia,  called  -^ges,  where  no  living  bodie  knewe 

him,  but  his  host  only,  called  Nicogenes  :  who  was  the  richest 

man  of  all  the  iEolians,  and  knewe  all  the  noble  men  of 

authoritie  that  were  about  the  king  of  Persia.    Themistocles 

continued  hidden  certen  dayes  in  his  house  :  in  which  time, 

on  a  night  after  the  feast  of  a  sacrifice,  one  Olbius,  schoole- 

master  to  Nicogenes  children,  by  some  secret  working  of 

the  goddes,  sodainely  fell  besides  him  selfe,  and  beganne  to 

singe  these  verses  out  alowde  : 

Doe  thou  beleeve,  what  so  the  nig-ht  the  tells 

and  geve  thy  voyce,  thy  counsell  and  conceipts 
Unto  the  night,  in  darcksomnes  that  dwells, 

thereon  also  thy  victorie  awaits. 

The  next  night  following,  Themistocles  being  fast  asleepe  Themistocles 
in  his  bed,  dreamed  that  a  snake  wounde  it  selfe  round  about  dreame. 
his  bellie,  and  glided  upwardes  to  his  necke,  untill  it  touched 
his  face,  and  sodainely  then  it  became  an  eagle,  and  imbraced 
him  with  his  winges :  and  so  at  length  dyd  lift  him  up  into 

311 


LIVES   OF   THE    NOBLE 


THEMIS- 
TOCLES 


The  Persians 
jealous  of 
their  wives. 


HoweThemis- 
tocles  was 
conveyed  to 
the  king  of 
Persias 
courte. 


the  ayer,  and  caried  him  a  marvelous  waye  of,  mitill  he 
thought  he  sawe  a  golden  rodde  (suche  as  Herauldes  use 
to  carie  in  their  handes)  whereupon  the  eagle  dyd  set  him, 
and  so  was  delivered  of  all  this  feare  and  trouble  he  thought 
him  selfe  in.  The  trothe  was,  Nicogenes  had  this  devise 
in  his  heade,  howe  he  might  bring  him  safe  to  the  king  of 
Persiaes  courte.  The  Barbarous  nations  for  the  most  parte 
(and  specially  the  Persians)  are  of  a  very  straunge  nature, 
and  marvelous  jealous  over  their  women,  and  that  not  onely 
of  their  wives,  but  also  of  their  bonde  women,  and  con- 
cubines :  which  they  keepe  so  straightly  locked  up,  that  no 
man  ever  seeth  them  abroade  at  any  time,  but  are  allwayes 
like  housedoves  kept  within  doores.  And  when  they  have 
any  occasion  to  goe  into  the  country,  they  are  caried  in  close 
coches  covered  all  about,  that  no  man  can  looke  into  them. 
Themistocles  was  conveyed  into  one  of  these  coches  drest 
after  this  manner,  and  had  warned  his  men  to  aunswer  those 
they  met  by  the  waye,  that  asked  whom  they  caried :  howe 
it  was  a  young  Grecian  gentlewoman  of  the  countrie  of 
Ionia,  which  they  caried  to  the  courte  for  a  noble  man  there. 
Thucydides,  and  Charon  Lampsacenian  saye,  he  went  thither 
after  the  death  of  Xerxes,  and  spake  with  his  sonne  there. 
But  Ephorus,  Dino,  Clitarchus,  Heraclides,  and  many  other 
write,  that  he  spake  with  him  selfe.  Yet  notwithstanding 
it  appeareth  that  Thucydides  wordes  doe  best  agree  Avith 
the  chronicles  and  tables,  recording  the  succession  of  times, 
although  they  be  of  no  great  certaintie.  Themistocles 
being  come  nowe  to  the  swordes  pointe  (as  it  were)  and  to 
the  extremitie  of  his  daunger:  dyd  first  present  him  selfe 
unto  one  Artabanus,  Colonell  of  a  thousand  footemen,  and 
sayed  unto  him :  Syr,  I  am  a  Grecian  borne,  and  desire  to 
speake  with  the  King :  I  have  matters  of  importance  to  open 
to  his  majestic,  and  such  as  I  knowe  he  will  thanckefully 
receyve.  Artabanus  aunswered  him  in  this  manner :  My 
friend  syr  straunger,  the  lawes  and  customes  of  men  are 
divers,  and  some  take  one  thing  for  honest,  others  some 
another  thing  :  but  it  is  most  honesty  for  all  men,  to  keepe 
and  observe  the  lawes  and  manners  of  their  owne  countrie. 
For  you  Grecians  have  the  name  to  love  libertie,  and  equalitie 
312 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

above  all  things :  and  for  us,  amongest  all  the  goodly  lawes     THEMIS- 
and  customes  we  have,  we  esteeme  this  above  the  rest :  to      TOCLES 
reverence  and  honour  our  King,  as  the  image  of  the  god  of  The  Persians 
nature,  who  keepeth  all  things  in  their  perfect  life  and  state,  honour  their 
Wherefore,  if  thou  wilt  facion  thy  selfe  after  our  manner  to  .  ^^^^^r  Ju. 
honour  the  King,  thou  mayest  both  see  him,  and  speake  with  g^^  of  nature, 
him  :  but  if  thou  have  another  minde  with  thee,  then  must 
thou  of  necessitie  use  some  thirde  persone  for  thy  meane. 
For  this  is  the  manner  of  our  countrie :    the  King  never 
geveth  audience  to  any  man,  that  hath  not  first  honoured 
him.     Themistocles  hearing  what  he  sayed,  aunswered  him 
againe  :  My  lord  Artabanus,  the  great  good  will  I  beare 
unto  the  King,  and  the  desire  I  have  to  advaunce  his  glorie 
and  power,  is  the  only  cause  of  my  present  repaire  unto  his 
courte  :  therefore  I  meane  not  only  to  obey  your  lawes  (since 
it  hath  so  pleased  the  goddes  to  rayse  up  the  noble  empire 
of  Persia  unto  this  greatnes)  but  will  cause   many  other 
people  also  to  honour  the  King,  more  then  there  doe  at  this 
present.     Therefore  let  there  be  no  staye,  but  that  my  selfe 
in  persone  maye  deliver  to  the  King  that  I  have  to  saye 
unto  him.    Well,  sayed  Artabanus  :  whom  then  shall  we  saye 
thou  arte  ?     For  by  thy  speache  it  seemeth,  thou  art  a  man 
of  no  meane  state  and  condition.     Themistocles  aunswered 
him  :  As  for  that  Artabanus,  none  shall  knowe  before  the 
King  him  selfe.     Thus  doth  Phanias  reporte  it.     But  Era- 
tosthenes, in  his  booke  he  wrote  of  riches,  addeth  further : 
howe  Themistocles  had  accesse  unto  this  Artabanus,  being 
recommended  to  the  King  by  a  woman  of  Eretria,  whom  the 
King   kept.      Themistocles  being  brought  to  his  presence,  Themistocles 
after  he  had  presented  his  humble  duety  and  reverence  to  t^lke  with  the 
him,  stoode  on  his  feete,  and  sayed  never  a  worde,  untill  the  ^"^got  I'ersia. 
King  commaunded  the  interpreter  to  aske  him  what  he  was  ? 
and  he  aunswered :  Maye  it  please  your  majestie,  O  noble 
King :  I  am  Themistocles  the  Athenian,  a  banished  man  out 
of  my  country  by  the  Grecians,  who  humbly  repay reth  to 
your  highnes,  knowing  I  have  done  great  hurt  to  the  Per- 
sians, but  I  persuade  my  self  I  have  done  them  farre  more 
good  then  harme.     For  I  it  was   that  kept  the   Grecians 
backe  they  dyd  not  follow  you,  when  the  state  of  Grece  was 
2R  313 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

THEMIS-  delivered  from  thraldome,  and  my  native  country  from 
TOCLES  daunger,  and  that  I  knew  I  stoode  then  in  good  state  to 
pleasure  you.  Nowe  for  me,  I  finde  all  mens  good  willes 
agreable,  to  my  present  misery  and  calamitie :  for  I  come 
determined,  most  humbly  to  thancke  your  highnes,  for  any 
grace  and  favour  you  shall  shewe  me,  and  also  to  crave 
humble  pardone,  if  your  majesty  be  yet  offended  with  me. 
And  therfore  licence  me  (most  noble  King)  to  beseche  you, 
that  taking  mine  enemies  the  Grecians  for  witnesses  of  the 
pleasures  I  have  done  the  Persian  nation,  you  will  of  your 
princely  grace  use  my  harde  fortune,  as  a  good  occasion  to 
shewe  your  honorable  vertue,  rather  then  to  satisfie  the 
passion  of  your  heate  and  choller.  For  in  saving  my  life, 
your  majestic  saveth  an  humble  suter  that  put  him  selfe  to 
your  mercie  :  and  in  putting  me  to  death,  you  shall  ryd 
away  an  enemy  of  the  Grecians.  Having  spoken  thus  these 
words,  he  sayed  further  :  That  the  goddes,  by  divers  signes 
and  tokens  had  procured  him,  to  come  to  submit  him  selfe 
unto  him,  and  tolde  the  King  what  vision  he  had  scene  in 
his  dreame  in  Nicogenes  house :  and  declared  also  the  oracle  of 
lupiter  Dodonian,  who  had  commaunded  him  that  he  should 
goe  unto  him  that  was  called  as  a  god,  and  howe  he  thought 
it  was  the  persone  of  his  majestic,  bicause  that  god  and  he 
in  trothe  were  called  both  great  Kings.  The  King  having 
thus  heard  him  speake,  gave  him  then  no  present  aunswer 
againe,  notwithstanding  he  marvelously  wondred  at  his  great 
wisedome  and  boldenes.  But  afterwardes  amongest  his 
familliars  the  King  sayed,  he  thought  him  selfe  very  happy 
to  mete  with  the  good  fortune  of  Themistocles  comming  to 
him :  and  so  besought  his  great  god  Arimanius,  that  he 
would  allwayes  send  his  enemies  such  mindes,  as  to  banishe 
the  greatest,  and  wisest  men  amongest  them.  It  is  reported 
also  he  did  sacrifice  unto  the  goddes,  to  geve  them  thankes 
therefore,  and  disposed  him  selfe  presently  to  be  mery. 
Insomuch  as  dreaming  in  the  night,  in  the  middest  of  his 
dreame  he  cried  out  three  times  together  for  joye :  I  have 
Themistocles  the  Athenian.  The  next  morning  the  King 
having  sent  for  the  chiefest  lordes  of  his  courte,  he  made 
Themistocles  also  to  be  brought  before  him :  who  looked 
314 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

for  no  goodnes  at  all,  specially  when  he  sawe  the  souldiers     THEMIS- 
warding  at  the  courte  gates,  geve  him  ill  countenaunce  and      TOCLES 
language  both,  when  they  behelde  him,  and  understoode  his 
name.     Moreover,  Roxanes,  one  of  the  captaines,  as  Themis- 
tocles  passed  by  him  going  to  the  King  (who  was  set  in  his 
chayer  of  state,  and  every  man  keeping  silence)  softely  sigh- 
ing, sayed  unto  him :  O  thou  Greekishe  serpent,  subtill  and 
malicious  :  the  Kings  good  fortune  hath  brought  thee  hether. 
Nevertheles  when  he  came  to  the  King,  and  had  once  againe 
made  him   a  very  humble  and  lowe  reverence :    the  King 
saluted  him,  and  spake  very  curteously  to  him,  saying :  I  am 
nowe  your  detter  of  two  hundred  talents,  for  presenting 
your  self.     It  is  good  reason  I  should  deliver  you  the  money 
promised  him  that  should  have  brought  you  :  but  I  geve 
you  a  further  warrante,  be  bolde  I  charge  you,  and  speake 
your  minde  freely,  saye  what  you  thinke  of  the  state  of 
Grece.      Themistocles   then    aunswered   him  :    That   mens  An  excellent 
wordes  did  properly  resemble  the  stories  and  imagery  in  a  comparison  of 
pece  of  arras :   for  both  in  the  one  and  in  the  other,  the  Themistocles. 
goodly  images  of  either  of  them  are  scene,  when  they  are 
unfolded  and  layed  open.     Contrariwise  they  appeare  not, 
but  are  lost,  when  they  are  shut  up,  and  close  folded  :  where- 
upon he  sayed  to  the  King,  he  must  nedes  require  some 
further  time  of  aunswer.     The  King  liked  his  comparison 
passingly  well,  and  willed  him  to  appointe  his  owne  time. 
Themistocles  asked  a  yere :    in  which  time  having  pretily 
learned  the  Persian  tongue,  he  afterwards  spake  to  the  King 
him  selfe  without  any  interpreter.     So,  suche  as  were  no 
courtiers,  thought  he  only  talked  with  the  King  of  matters 
of  |Grece.     But  bicause  the  chaunge  and  alteration  of  the 
courte  fell  out  great  at  that  time,  the  noble  men  imagined 
he  had  bene  so  bolde  to  comon  with  the  King  of  them  also. 
Thereupon  they  greatly  envied  him,  and  afterwardes  mur- 
mured much  against  him.    For  in  deede  the  king  dyd  honour  Themistocles 
Themistocles   above   all   other   straungers  whatsoever   they  honoured  of 
were.     On  a  time  the  king  had  him  out  a  hunting;  with  him,  n     -^ 
he  made  him  see  his  mother,  with  whom  he  grewe  familliar : 
and  by  the  kings  owne  commaundement  he  was  to  heare 
the  disputations  of  the  wise  men  of  Persia  touching  secret 

315 


LIVES    OF    THE    NOBLE 

THEMIS-     philosophie,  which  they  call  magike.    Demaratus  the  Lacedae- 
TOCLES      monian  being  at  that  time  in  the  courte  of  Persia,  the  king 
willing  him  to  aske  what  gifte  he  would,  he  besought  the 
Demaratus       king  to  graunt  him  this  favour :  to  licence  him  to  goe  up 
fond  demande  and  down  the  cittie  of  Sardis,  with  his  royall  hat  on  his 
of  the  King,     head,  as  the  kings  of  Persia  doe.     Mithropaustes,  the  kings 
cosin,  taking  him  by  the  hand,  sayed  unto  him :  Demaratus, 
the  kings  hatte  thou  demaundest,  and  if  it  were  on  thy 
heade,  it  would  cover  but  litle  wit :    Naye  though  lupiter 
dyd  geve  thee  his  lightning  in  thy  hande,  yet  that  would 
not  make  thee  lupiter.     But  the  king  gave  him  so  sharpe  a 
repulse  for  his  unreasonable  request,  and  was  so  angrie  with 
him  for  it,  that  it  was  thought  he  would  never  have  forgeven 
him  :  howbeit  Themistocles  was  so  earnest  a  suter  for  him, 
that  he  brought  him  into  favour  againe.     And  the  reporte 
goeth,  that  the  kings  successours  which  have  bene  since  that 
time,  under  whom  the  Persians  have  had  more  dealings  with 
the  Grecians,  then  in  former  dayes :  when  they  would  retaine 
any  great  state  or  personage  of  Grece  into  their  service,  they 
wrote  unto  him,  and  promised  him  they  would  make  him 
greater  about  them,  then  ever  was  Themistocles  about  Xerxes. 
That  which  is  written  of  him,  doth  also  confirme  it.    For  he 
being  stept  up  to  great  countenaunce  and  authoritie,  and  fol- 
lowed with  great  traines  of  suters  after  him  by  reason  of  his 
greatnes  :  seing  him  self  one  daye  very  honorably  served  at  his 
table,  and  with  all  sortes  of  daintie  meates,  he  turned  him 
to  his  children,  and  sayed  unto  them  :  My  sonnes,  we  should 
have  bene  undone,  if  we  had  not  bene  undone.     The  most 
Themistocles    writers  doe  agree,  that  he  had  given  him  the  revenue  of  3 
had  the  re-       citties  for  his  allowance  of  bread,  wine  and   vittailes  :    to 
venue  of  three  ^j^^   Magnesia,  Lampsacus,   and    Mjninta.      But  Neanthes 
him  for  his       Cyzicenian,  and  Phanias,  doe  adde  two  other  citties  more, 
dyet.  Percota,  and  Palescepsia :  the  one  to  defraye  his  charges  of 

apparell,  and  the  other  for  his  lodging.  Afterwards  Themis- 
tocles going  into  the  lowe  countries  towards  the  sea,  to  take 
order  against  the  practises  of  the  Grecians :  there  was  a 
Persian  lord  called  Epixies  (governour  of  highe  Phrygia) 
that  had  layed  a  traine  to  kill  him  (having  of  long  time 
hiered  certaine  murderers  of  Pisidia  to  doe  it)  so  soone  as  he 
316 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

should  come  into  a  towne  of  his  government,  called  the  THEMIS- 
Lyons  head.  But  as  he  slept  on  a  daye  in  his  house  in  the  TOCLES 
after  none,  the  mother  of  the  goddes  appeared  unto  him,  Themistocles 
and  sayed :  Themistocles,  goe  not  to  the  Lyons  heade,  for  ^'scaped  mur- 
feare  thou  mete  with  the  Lyon :  and  for  this  warning,  I  doe  •  ^  t^^™" 
aske  thy  daughter  Mnesiptolema  for  my  servante.  Themis-  his  sleepe. 
tocles  waking  sodainely  out  of  his  dreame,  made  his  prayer 
unto  the  goddesse,  and  turning  out  of  the  highe  waye, 
fetched  another  compasse  about.  Afterwardes  having  passed 
that  towne,  he  tooke  his  lodging  being  benighted  :  but  one 
of  the  beastes  which  caried  his  tente,  fell  by  the  waye, 
unfortunatly  in  a  river,  and  all  his  arras  and  tapestry  hang- 
ings being  throughly  wet,  his  ser vaunts  were  driven  to  laye 
them  out  a  drying  by  moone  light.  The  Pisidians  that  laye 
in  wayte,  and  could  not  discerne  by  moone  light  that  they 
were  hangings  layed  out  to  drye,  thought  it  had  bene  the 
very  tente  Themistocles  selfe  dyd  lye  in :  whereupon  they 
went  unto  it  with  their  swordes  drawen  in  their  handes, 
hoping  to  have  taken  him  sleeping.  But  when  they  were 
come  thither,  and  beganne  to  lifte  up  a  pece  of  the  hangings  : 
some  of  the  people  of  Themistocles  (which  kept  watche) 
perceyving  them,  ranne  upon  them,  and  tooke  them.  So 
Themistocles  having  escaped  this  daunger,  wondred  greately 
at  the  favour  of  the  goddesse  which  had  appeared  unto  him. 
In  recompence  whereof,  when  he  was  in  the  cittie  of  Magnesia, 
he  built  a  temple  unto  Dindymena,  and  made  his  daughter 
Mnesiptolema  prioresse  of  the  same.  As  he  passed  by  the 
cittie  of  Sardis  for  his  recreation,  he  went  to  visite  the 
temples,  and  offerings  that  had  bene  geven  there.  So  he 
sawe  an  image  of  a  mayden  in  copper,  in  the  temple  of  the 
mother  of  the  goddes,  being  two  yeardes  highe,  which  they 
called  the  Hydropliora :  as  much  to  saye,  as  the  water  carier. 
And  it  was  a  statue,  which  him  selfe  had  heretofore  dedicated, 
and  caused  to  be  made,  with  the  fines  of  those  that  had  payed 
forfeytures,  for  stealing  or  turning  awaye  the  water  course  at 
Athens,  at  suche  time  as  he  was  master  surveyer  of  the  water 
workes  and  conduites  there.  Wherfore,  whether  Themis- 
tocles was  sory  to  see  this  goodly  image  a  prisoner  in  the 
handes  of  the  Barbarous  people,  or  that  he  would  showe 

317 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

THEMIS-  unto  the  Athenians  the  greatnes  of  his  credit  and  authoritie 
TOCLES  through  all  the  Kings  dominions  :  he  spake  to  the  governour 
of  Lydia,  and  prayed  him  for  his  sake  that  he  would  send 
this  image  againe  to  Athens.  But  this  Barbarous  governour 
was  very  angry  with  his  request,  and  tolde  him  he  would 
advertise  the  King  thereof.  Then  Themistocles  beganne  to 
be  afeard,  and  was  driven  to  seeke  to  the  governours  women 
and  concubines,  whom  he  got  for  money  to  intreate  him,  and 
so  made  fayre  weather  againe  with  the  governour.  But  from 
thenceforth,  he  tooke  better  garde  of  him  selfe  in  all  his 
doings,  greatly  fearing  the  envy  of  the  Barbarous  people. 
For  he  progressed  not  up  and  downe  Asia,  as  Theopompus 
writeth,  but  laye  a  long  time  in  the  cittie  of  Magnesia, 
quietly  enjoying  the  Kings  gratious  giftes  bestowed  on  him  : 
where  he  was  honoured  and  reverenced  for  one  of  the  greatest 
persones  of  Persia,  whilest  the  King  was  els  where  occupied 
in  the  afFayres  of  the  highe  provinces  of  Asia,  and  had  no 
leysure  to  thincke  upon  those  of  Grece.  But  when  newes 
was  brought  him,  that  ^Egypt  was  rebelled,  by  meanes  of 
the  favour  and  assistance  of  the  Athenians,  and  that  the 
Grecians  gallyes  dyd  scowre  the  seas  even  unto  the  He  of 
Cyprus,  and  unto  the  coastes  of  Cilicia,  and  that  Cimon  had 
all  the  sea  in  subjection :  that  made  him  then  to  bende  all 
his  thoughts  howe  to  resist  the  Grecians,  that  their  greatnes 
might  not  turne  to  his  hurte.  Then  commissions  went  out 
to  leavy  men,  to  assemble  captaines,  and  to  dispatche  postes 
unto  Themistocles  at  Magnesia,  with  the  Kings  letters, 
straightly  charging  him  to  have  an  eye  to  the  Grecians 
doings,  and  moreover  that  he  should  faithfully  keepe  his 
Themistocles  promise  he  had  made  to  him.  But  he,  to  shewe  that  he 
love  to  his  neither  maliced  his  cittizens,  nor  was  moved  with  the  desire 
country.  ^^  greatnes  and  authoritie  he  might  have  growen  unto  in 

those  warres,  or  els  for  that  he  thought  the  Kings  expecta- 
tion would  prove  to  a  greater  matter,  then  he  could  ende  or 
wade  through,  considering  Grece  was  full  at  that  time  of 
famous  captaines,  and  that  Cimon  amongest  the  rest  had 
marvelous  good  fortune,  and  that  it  should  be  a  reproche 
to  him  to  stayne  the  glorie  of  so  many  noble  actes,  so 
many  triumphes,  and  so  great  victories  as  Cimon  had  done 
318 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

and  wonne :  he  tooke  a  wise  resolution  with  him  selfe,  to     THEMIS- 
make  suche  an  ende  of  his  life,  as  the  fame  thereof  deserved.      TOCLES 
For   he   made   a   solemne   sacrifice   unto   the   goddes,   and  The  manner 
feasted    at  the  same  all  his  friends.      And,  after  he  had  ^^^y^^^^*'', 
taken  his  leave  of  them  all,  he  drancke  buUes  bloude,  as  ^^•^^^^  ^^''*^- 
most  men   thincke  (or  as  other  saye)  poyson,  which  dis- 
patcheth  a  man  in  foure  and  twenty  howers,  and  so  ended 
his  dayes  in  the  cittie  of  Magnesia,  after  he  had  lived  three- 
score and  five  yeres,  and  the  most  parte  of  them  allwayes  in 
office,  and  great  charge.     It  is  Avritten,  that  the  king  of 
Persia  understanding  the  cause  and  manner  of  his  deathe, 
dyd  more  esteeme  him  afterwards,  then  he  dyd  before,  and 
that  ever  after  he  continued  to  use  his  friends  and  familliars 
in  very  good  sorte.     For  he  left  children  behinde  him,  which 
he  had  of  Archippa  (Lysanders  daughter)  of  the  towne  of  Themistocles 
Alopecia :    Archeptolis,    Polyeuctus,    and    Cleophantus,    of  children, 
whom  Plato  the  philosopher  maketh  mention,  saying  that 
he  was  a  good  man  at  armes,  but  otherwise  that  there  was 
no  goodnes  in  him.     His  other  sonnes  that  were  elder,  as 
Neocles,  dyed  being  bitten  with  a  horse :  and  as  for  Diodes 
another  sonne,  his  grandfather  Lysander  dyd  adopt  him  for 
his  Sonne.     He   had    many  daughters,  of  the  which   Mne- 
siptolema  (which  he  had  by  a  seconde  wife)  was  maried  unto 
her  halfe  brother  Archeptolis,  for  they  were  not  both  of  one 
venter.     An  other  called  Italia,  was  maried  unto  one  Pan- 
thides   of  Chio.      Sybaris,   unto  Nicomedes   an   Athenian. 
And  Nicomacha,  unto  Pharsicles,  Themistocles  nephue  :  unto 
whom  her  brethern  dyd  mary  her  within  the  cittie  of  Mag- 
nesia, after  the  death  of  their  father.     This  Pharsicles  dyd 
bring  up  Asia,  which  was  the  youngest  of  all  his  daughters. 
Furthermore,   his   sumptuous   tumbe   standeth   yet   in    the  Themistocles 
market  place  of  Magnesia.     But  that  Andocides  writeth  of  tumbe  and 
his  bones,  in  a  booke  he  made  to  his  friendes,  is  not  to  be  rehckes. 
credited,  which  was :  that  the  Athenians  having  founde  the 
ashes  of  his  bones,  dyd  cast  them  up  into  the  ayer,  as  a 
devise  to  sturre  up  the  noble  men  against  the  people.     And 
Phylarchus   in    his   historic   (much    like    unto    the   fayned 
subtilties   of  a  tragedie)  bringeth  in   I  can  not  tell  what 
Neocles,  and  Demopolis,  for  Themistocles  sonnes,  to  move 

319 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 


THEMIS- 
TOCLES 


Honour  done 
to  Themis- 
tocles  after 
his  death. 


the  readers  with  compassion, 
but  will    judge    it    straight 


Howbeit  no  man  is  so  simple, 
a  very  fayning  and  devise. 
Diodorus  the  cosmographer  also,  in  a  booke  he  hath  written 
of  tumbes  and  monuments  sayeth,  by  conjecture,  rather  then 
of  any  certen  knowledge :  that  alongest  the  haven  of  Piroea, 
coming  towardes  the  head  of  Alcimus,  there  is  a  forelande  in 
forme  of  an  elbowe,  within  the  which  when  they  have  doubled 
the  pointe,  the  sea  is  allwayes  calme,  and  there  they  finde  a 
great  and  long  foundation  or  base,  upon  the  which  there  is  as 
it  were  the  forme  of  an  altar,  and  that  is  (sayeth  he)  Themis- 
tocles  tumbe.  And  he  supposeth  that  Plato  the  comicall 
poet  doth  witnesse  it  in  these  verses : 

Thy  grave  is  set  and  plast,  comodiously, 

where  passengers  and  marchants  that  come  by 
maye  visite  thee,  and  where  it  maye  regarde, 
all  such  as  seeke  that  porte  to  be  their  warde. 

Somtimes  also,  it  maye  rejoyce  to  see, 
the  bloudy  fights,  upon  the  sea  that  be. 

And  furthermore,  those  of  Magnesia  dyd  institute  certen 

honours  unto  the  issue  of  Themistocles,  which  continew  yet 

unto  this  daye.     And  in  my  time,  another  Themistocles 

also  of  Athens  dyd  enjoy  the  same  honours,  with  whom 

I  was  familliarly  conversante  in  the  house  of 

Ammonius  the  philosopher. 

THE  ENDE  OF  THEMISTOCLES  LIFE 


THE  LIFE  OF  FURIUS  CAMILLUS 


MONGEST  many  great  matters  which  are 
spoken  of  this  Furius  Camillus,  this 
seemeth  most  straunge  and  wonderful] 
above  the  rest.  That  he  having  borne 
the  chiefest  offices  of  charge  in  his 
countrie,  and  having  done  many  notable 
and  worthy  deedes  in  the  same :  as  one 
that  was  chosen  five  times  Dictator,  and 
had  triumphed  foure  times,  and  had  wonne  him  selfe  the 
320 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

name  and  title  of  the  seconde  founder  of  Rome,  and  yet      FURIUS 
never  came  to  be  Consul.     But  the  only  cause  thereof  was,    CAMILLUS 
that  the  common  weale  of  Rome  stoode  then  in  such  state  Why  Camil- 
and  sorte.     The  people  were  then  at   dissention  with  the  lus  never 
Senate.      They    would   chuse   no  more  Consuls,  but  other  S^f"™^  ^P 
kynde  of  governours  whom    they  called  Tribuni  militares : 
these  dyd  all  things  with  like  power  and  authoritie  as  the 
Consuls,  yet  were  they  nothing  so  odious  unto  the  people,  by  The  aiithori- 
reason  of  the  number  that  was  of  them.     For  it  was  some  tie  of  a  fewe, 
hope  to  them  that  could   ill   beare  the  rule  of  the  small  ^^^^J^  *^^ 
number  of  nobilitie,  that  the  government  of  the  state  being  people, 
put  into  sixe,  and  not  into  two  officers  hands,  their  rule 
would  be  the  easier,  and  tollerabler.    Nowe  Camillus  being  at 
that  time  in  his  best  credit  and  authoritie,  and  in  the  prime 
and  glorie  of  his  doings,  dyd  not  desire  to  be  made  Consul 
without  the  goodwill  of  the  people,  although  whilest  he  was 
in  authoritie,  there  were  many  times  Consuls  created.     But 
to  all  other  offices  and  dignities,  he  was  called,  and  chosen. 
He  behaved  him  selfe  in  such  sorte,  that  when  he  was  alone, 
he  made  his  authoritie  comon  to  other :  and  when  he  had 
companions  and  associates,  the  glorie  of  all  redounded  to  him 
self  alone.     The  cause  whereof,  was  his  modestie  on  the  one  Camillus 
side,  for  he  commaunded  ever  without  en  vie  :  and  his  great  wisedome  and 
wisedome  and  sufficiencie  on  the  other  side,  for  the  which  all  "^"^®^*'^- 
others  willingly  gave  him  place,  and  yelded  to  him.     The 
house  of  the  Furians  being  at  that  time  of  no  great  fame,  he 
was  the  first  that  beganne  to  set  him  self  forwards.     For  in 
a  great  battell  which  was  fought  against  the  ^Eques  and 
Volsces,  he  being   but  a  private  man  at  armes  under  the 
Dictator  Posthuraius  Tubertus,  was  the  first  that  riding  out 
of  the  army,  advaunced    him    selfe,  and   gave  the  charge. 
And  being  ronne  into  the  thighe  at  the  time  with  a  staffe  Camillus 
broken  upon  his  thighe,  he  plucked  the  trunchen  out,  and  hurte. 
retired  not  for  all  that :  but  geving  chardge  againe  upon  the 
stowtest  of  the  enemies,  he  fought  it  out  so  valiantly  to  the 
encoraging  of  other,  that  he  was  the  chief  cause  they  turned 
their  backes.     Whereupon,  to  requite  his  service  done  at 
that  time  (besides  other  honours  they  dyd  him)  they  made 
him  Censor  :  an  office  at  that  time  of  great  preheminence  and 
2S  321 


FURIUS 
CAMILLUS 

Camillus  acts 
in  his  Censor 
shippe. 


The  cittie 
of  Veies 
besieged. 


The  siege 
continued 
seven  yeres 
together. 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

dignitie.  In  his  office  of  Censorshippe,  he  dyd  two  notable 
acts.  The  one  very  honest :  when  he  brought  men  that 
were  not  maried,  to  marie  the  women  whom  the  warres  had 
left  widows,  which  were  in  number  many.  To  this  he  got 
them  partly  by  persuasion,  and  partly  by  threatnings,  to  set 
round  fines  upon  their  heads  that  refused.  The  other  very 
necessary :  in  that  he  brought  the  orphanes  to  be  contribu- 
tories,  unto  taxes,  and  subsidies,  which  before  payed  nothing. 
The  cause  thereof  was,  the  continuall  warres,  about  the 
which  the  common  weale  susteined  great  charges :  but 
specially  about  the  siege  of  the  citie  of  the  Veians  (which 
some  call  Venetanians)  that  was  a  very  sore  burden  to  them 
at  that  time.  For  it  was  the  capitall  cittie  of  all  Thuscan, 
the  which  for  store  of  armour,  and  number  of  souldiers,  was 
nothing  inferiour  unto  the  cittie  of  Rome.  For  the  Veians 
being  growen  to  stomake  and  corage  in  time,  by  reason 
of  their  wealth  and  prosperitie,  and  for  the  sundry  great 
battells  they  had  fought  against  the  Romaines,  that  con- 
tended with  them  for  glory  and  empire :  now  it  fell  so  out, 
that  they  finding  them  selves  weakened  by  many  great  over- 
throwes,  which  they  had  receyved  of  the  Romaines,  they  did 
let  fall  their  former  peacokes  bravery,  and  ambition,  to  byd 
them  battell  any  more  in  the  fielde,  Howbeit  the  inhabitants 
of  the  cittie  of  Veies  having  raised  the  walles,  and  made 
very  great  high  rampers,  beganne  to  fortifie  them  selves,  and 
made  good  provision  for  armour  and  munition,  besides  store 
of  corne,  shotte,  and  other  necessary  things  :  they  valliantly, 
and  without  feare  of  any  thing,  defended  the  siege  of  the 
Romaines,  that  continued  long  time,  and  was  no  lesse  hard  and 
painefull  unto  them  that  did  besiege,  then  it  was  unto  those 
that  were  besieged.  For  where  the  Romaines  were  wont 
before  time  to  keepe  their  houses  in  the  winter  season,  and 
the  field  only  in  the  sommer  time  :  that  was  the  first  time 
they  were  compelled  by  the  captaines  and  Tribuni  militares, 
to  buylde  fortes,  and  to  intrenche  their  campe  with  a  wall, 
even  in  their  enemies  countrie,  and  to  winter  abroade  as 
they  were  wont  to  lye  in  the  campe  in  sommer.  Nowe  this 
siege  had  continued  seven  whole  yeres  together.  The  cap- 
taines were  burdened  that  they  dyd  not  their  dueties,  nor 
322 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

stoode  manfully  to  their  charge  :  whereupon  in  the  cnde  they      FURIUS 
were  discharged,  and  other  captaines  placed  in  their  roomes    CAMILLUS 
to  followe  the  siege.     Among  those,  Camillas  was  one,  whom 
then  the  seconde  time  they  created  Tribuntis  militaris.    Who  Camillus 
notwithstanding  dyd  nothing  then  in  that  siege,  bicause  it  twise  chosen 
was  his  happe  by  lot,  to  make  warres  upon  the  Phalerians,  l^^^^^^i^^^^^ 
and  the  Capenates.    These  people  whilest  the  Romaines  were 
occupied  other  where,  had  invaded  their  countrie,  and  done 
them  great  harme,  during  the  time  of  their  warre  with  the 
Thuscans.    But  Camillus  having  overthrowen  a  great  number 
of  them  in  the  fielde,  had  the  rest  in  chase,  and  drave  them  to 
take  their  cittie,  and  dyd  shut  them  up  within  their  owne  walles. 
The  chaunce  that  happened  at  the  lake  of  Albanus,  about  The  wouder- 
the  time  the  Thuscan  warres  were  greatest,  dyd  marvelously  full  overflow- 
amate  the  Romaines,  being  no  lesse  wounderfull,  then  the  ^^^^^yg^  ^ 
most  straunge  and  uncrediblest  thing  that  could  be  tolde  by 
man.      For   they  could    not   finde  out  the  cause  of  it  by 
common  reason,  nor  any  naturall  grounde :  considering  it 
was  in  the  later  end  of  Autumne,  and  sommer  was  ended,  and 
that  there  had  not  bene  much  rayne,  nor  notable  so%vthe 
winds.     And  although  there  are  many  lakes,  many  brooks 
and  rivers,  many  springs,   and  other  waters  in  Italic :  yet 
some  of  them  dried  up  altogether,  others  ranne  but  faintely 
by  reason  of  the  drought,  and  all  the  rivers  then  were  (as 
they  are  wont  to  be  commonly  in  sommer)  very  lowe,  and 
there  was  scant  any  water.     But  the  lake  Albanus  contrari- 
wise, that  Cometh  from  no  other  place,  neither  runneth  any 
whether  out  of  him  selfe,  being  environned  all  about  with 
hilles  and  mountaines,  and  where  the  earthe  is  good  :  beganne 
to  swell,  and  rise  to  every  mans  sight,  without  any  cause  at 
all  (but  secret  and  hidden  unto  the  goddes  alone)  and  went 
allwayes  increasing  alongest  those  hilles  sides,  untill  suche 
time  as  it  came  to  be  even  with  the  height  of  the  highest 
mountaine,  gathering  upwardes  still  without  any  waves  or 
tempest  of  weather  at  all.     This  at  the  first,  made  poore 
shepeheardes  and    heardemen,    keeping  their  cattell  there- 
aboutes,  marvelously  affrayed.     But  at  the  lengthe  when  the 
earthe  and  weight  of  one  of  the  hilles  (which  kepte  in  the 
lake  as   a  walle,  from  running  over  the  felde)  beganne  to 

323 


FURIUS 
CAMILLUS 


The  crafte  of 
a  Romaine. 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

breake  by  reason  of  the  waight,  and  great  quantitie  of  water, 
that  ranne  straight  with  a  marvelous  extreme  force  and 
violence  over  all  the  arrable  landes  and  groundes  planted 
with  trees,  and  so  tooke  his  course  into  the  sea :  the 
Romaines  then  not  alone,  but  the  whole  inhabitants  of  Italy 
were  wounderfully  affrayed,  and  judged  that  it  was  some 
signe  and  prognostication  of  some  wounderfuU  thing  to 
come.  And  there  was  no  other  newes  currante  in  the 
campe,  which  laye  at  siege  of  the  cittie  of  Veies  :  insomuch 
as  the  very  brute  of  it  flewe  over  the  walles  of  the  cittie, 
unto  them  that  were  besieged.  And  as  it  happeneth  very 
ofte  in  long  sieges,  that  those  which  lye  in  campe  doe  often- 
times talke  with  them  that  are  besieged :  there  was  a 
Romaine  who  fell  acquainted,  and  commonly  used  to  talke 
familiarly  with  one  of  the  cittie,  who  could  tell  of  many  olde 
and  straunge  things  done  and  happened,  and  was  very 
skillfull  above  any  other  in  the  cittie,  in  the  arte  of  divina- 
tion, or  soothesaying.  The  Romaine  then  tolde  him  one 
daye  the  violent  breaking  out  of  the  lake  Albanus,  and  per- 
ceyving  that  the  other  after  he  had  heard  him,  was  as  mery 
as  a  pye  at  the  matter,  and  that  he  gibed  at  their  siege  :  he 
tolde  him  further,  that  this  wounderfuU  chaunce  was  not 
only  happened  unto  the  Romaines  at  that  time,  but  that 
they  had  bene  acquainted  with  many  other  farre  more 
straunge  then  this,  which  he  would  very  willingly  open  unto 
him,  to  see  if  there  were  any  remedy,  that  though  the 
affaires  of  the  common  weale  had  but  harde  successe,  yet  he 
would  procure  that  his  owne  private  matters  might  prosper 
well  with  him.  The  Veian  aunswered  him,  he  would  heare 
them  with  a  goodwill,  and  gave  good  eare  unto  him,  hoping 
to  have  heard  some  great  secret.  So  the  Romaine  training 
him  on  still  from  one  matter  to  another,  holding  on  his 
waye,  untill  he  sawe  he  was  a  good  distance  of  from  the  gates 
of  the  cittie,  he  sodainely  cought  holde  on  him,  and  by 
strong  hand  caried  him  awaye  with  him,  and  with  helpe  of 
other  souldiers  which  came  ronning  out  of  the  campe  unto 
him,  he  brought  him  to  the  captaines.  The  Veian  seeing 
him  self  thus  forciblie  used,  and  knowing  also  that  fatall 
desteny  cannot  be  avoyded,  beganne  to  declare  unto  the 
324' 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

Romaines,  the  auncient  oracles  and  prophecies  touching  the      FURIUS 
fortune  of  their  cittie  :  by  which  it  was  reported  unto  them,    CAMILLUS 
that  the  cittie  of  Veies  should  never  be  taken,  untill  the 
enemie  had  caused  the  water  of  the  lake  Albanus  (which 
should  breake  out)  to  be  brought  backe  againe,  and  to  turne 
it  some  other  wave  from  thence,  that  it  should  not  fall  into 
the  sea.     This  was  caried  unto  the  Senate  at  Rome,  to  be 
consulted  of  in  counsail :  and  there  it  was  determined  they 
should  send  to  the  oracle  of  Apollo,  at  the  cittie  of  Delphes, 
and  aske  him  what  they  should   doe  therein.      So  thither 
was  sent  great  and  notable  men,  Cossus  Licinius,  Valerius 
Politus,   and    Fabius  Ambustus :    who    having   ended  their 
jomey  by  sea,  and  receyved  aunswer  of  that  they  demaunded, 
returned   home   againe,   and   amongest   other   oracles   they 
brought    one   that   sayed   thus  :    That    through   negligence  An  oracle 
they   had    omitted    some   auncient  ceremonies  in  the  holy  brought  from 
dayes  of  the  Latines.     And  another  willed  them,  that  they  I^^^P"^^- 
should  by  all  possible  meanes  they  could,  keepe  the  water  of 
the  lake  Albanus  that  it  fell  not  into  the  sea,  and  should  (if 
it  were  possible)  bring  it  backe  againe  into  his  old  place :  if 
not,  that  yet  they  should  cut  as  many  trenches  and  ditches 
as  might  be,  that  it  might  be  droncke  up  in  the  middest  of 
the   fields.      When   these   oracles   were    understanded,    the 
priests  prepared  all  things  for  divine  service,  and  the  people 
went  about  the  water  of  the  lake  to  turne  it  againe.     After 
these  things  were  done,  the  Senate  in  the  tenth  yere  of  the 
warres  against  the  Veians,  put  of  all  those  which  dyd  beare 
office,  and  created  Caniillus  Dictator,  who  named  for  generall  Camilhis 
of  the  horse  men,  Cornelius  Scipio.     And  before  he  went  in  chosen 
hande  with  any  thing,  he  made  a  vowe  unto  the  goddes,  that  I^^<^t^tor. 
if  it  pleased  them  to  graunte  a  happy  ende  of  these  warres, 
in  honour  of  them  he  would  celebrate  great  playes,  and  buyld 
a  temple  unto  the  goddesse  which  the  Romaines  call  Matuta:  Matuta. 
which  seemeth  to  be  her  whom  we  call  Leucothea,  considering  Leucothea. 
the  ceremonies  done  in  these  sacrifices.     For  they  cause  a 
chamber  mayde  to  enter  into  her  temple,  and   there  they 
boxe  her  about  the  eares.     Then  they  put  her  out  of  the 
temple,  and  doe  embrace  their  brothers  children  rather  then 
their  owne.      They  make  many  other  ceremonies,  and  they 

325 


LIVES    OF    THE    NOBLE 


FURIUS 
CAMILLUS 


The  cittie  of 
Veies  taken 
by  mining'. 


CamUlus 
prayer  when 
Veies  was 
taken. 


are  much  like  unto  those  that  are  done  unto  Bacchus 
nurces,  and  to  the  misfortunes  that  chaunced  unto  Ino,  by 
reason  of  her  husbands  concubine.  After  all  these  vowes  and 
prayers  made,  he  entred  with  his  army  into  the  Falissians 
territories,  whom  he  overthrewe  in  a  great  battell,  together 
with  the  Capenates  also,  which  came  to  ayde  them.  From 
thence  he  went  to  the  siege  of  the  cittie  of  the  Veies, 
where  perceyving  to  take  it  by  assaulte,  was  not  to  be 
wonne  without  great  daunger  :  he  beganne  to  undermine 
it  (finding  the  earth  all  about  very  minable)  and  with  all 
so  deepe,  that  the  enemies  could  perceyve  nothing.  Nowe 
when  his  mining  fell  out  according  to  his  good  hope,  he 
gave  an  assaulte  to  the  walles  in  all  places  alike  about  the 
cittie  at  one  instante,  to  bring  out  all  the  inhabitants  of 
the  cittie  to  man  the  walles.  Whilest  they  were  all  thus 
upon  the  walles  to  make  defence :  Camillus  souldiers  entred 
secretly  through  the  mines  within  the  castell,  harde  by 
the  temple  of  luno :  which  was  the  chiefe  Churche  of  all 
the  cittie,  and  whereunto  the  cittizens  had  most  devotion. 
They  saye  that  even  at  that  present  time  the  generall  of  the 
Thuscans  dyd  sacrifice  unto  the  goddes,  and  that  his  soothe- 
sayer  having  considered  the  intrells  of  the  beastes  offered  up 
in  sacrifice,  cried  out  alowde,  that  the  goddes  gave  the 
victorie  unto  him,  which  should  happen  to  come  upon  them 
in  this  sacrifice.  The  Romaines  which  were  within  the  mine 
hearing  this,  brake  the  earth  incontinently,  and  leaped  out, 
crying,  and  making  noyse  with  their  weapons :  wherewith 
the  enemies  were  so  astonied,  that  they  fled  upon  it,  and  so 
the  Romaines  tooke  the  intrells,  and  caried  them  unto 
Camillus.  And  these  be  even  much  like  the  Poets  tales  and 
fables.  Howbeit  Camillus  having  by  this  meanes  taken  the 
cittie,  and  seeing  from  the  toppe  of  the  castell  the  infinite 
goodes  and  riches  within  the  cittie,  which  the  souldiers 
spoyled  and  made  havoke  of,  he  wept  for  very  pittie.  And 
when  those  that  were  about  him  tolde  him  he  was  a  happy 
man :  he  lift  up  his  handes  unto  heaven,  and  made  this 
prayer :  O  mightie  god  lupiter,  and  you  O  goddes,  which 
see  and  judge  mens  good  and  ill  worckes :  you  knowe  right 
well,  that  we  have  not  willingly  (without  wrong  and  cause 
326 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

offered  us)  begonne  this  warre,  but  justly,  and  by  compulsion,  FURIUS 
to  be  revenged  of  a  cittie  our  enemie,  which  hath  done  us  CAMILLUS 
great  injuries.  But  if  to  contervayle  this  our  great  good 
prosperitie,  and  victorie,  some  bitter  adversitie  and  over- 
throwe  be  predestined  unto  us :  I  beseeche  you  then  (most 
mercifull  goddes)  in  sparing  our  cittie  of  Rome,  and  this  her 
army,  you  will  (with  as  litle  hurte  as  maye  be)  let  it  all  fall 
and  light  upon  my  persone  alone.  And  as  he  had  spoken 
these  wordes,  and  was  turning  on  his  right  hande  (according 
to  the  manner  of  the  Romaines  after  they  have  prayed  unto 
the  goddes)  he  fell  downe  flat  before  them  all.  The  standers 
by  taking  this  fall  for  an  ill  token,  were  somwhat  troubled 
with  the  matter :  but  after  he  got  up  on  his  feete  againe, 
he  tolde  them  that  the  thing  he  requested  of  the  goddes 
was  happened  unto  him.  And  that  was,  a  litle  hurte,  in 
exchaunge  of  a  great  good  fortune.  So  the  whole  cittie 
being  spoyled  and  rifled,  he  was  also  desirous  to  carie  lunos 
image  to  Rome,  to  accomplishe  the  vowe  he  had  made. 
And  having  sent  for  worckemen  for  this  purpose,  he  dyd 
sacrifice  first  unto  the  goddesse,  beseching  her  to  accept 
well  of  the  Romaines  good  will,  and  that  she  would  willingly 
vowchesafe  to  come  and  dwell  with  the  other  goddes,  who 
had  the  protection  of  the  cittie  of  Rome.  Some  saye,  that 
the  image  aunswered,  she  was  contented.  But  Livius  writeth 
that  Camillus  made  this  prayer,  as  he  touched  the  image, 
and  that  the  assistants  aunswered  she  was  contented,  and 
would  goe  with  a  goodwill.  Yet  they  which  doe  affirme,  it 
was  the  image  selfe  that  spake,  doe  favour  this  miracle, 
grounding  their  proofe  upon  the  opinion  of  the  fortune  of 
Rome :  the  which,  from  so  base  and  meane  beginning  had 
impossibly  attained  unto  so  highe  glorie  and  power  as  it  had, 
without  the  singular  favour  of  the  goddes,  and  that  hath 
manifestly  appeared  unto  the  world,  by  sundry  great  proofes 
and  examples.  They  bring  forth  also  such  other  like  won-  Fayned 
ders.  As,  that  images  have  heretofore  let  fall  droppes  of  wonders  of 
swet  from  them  :  that  they  have  bene  heard  to  sighe :  that  i'"^^*^- 
they  have  turned :  and  that  they  have  made  certen  signes 
with  their  eyes,  as  we  finde  written  in  many  auncient  stories. 
And  we  could  our  selves  also  tell  such  like  wonders,  which 

327 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 


FURIUS 
CAMILLUS 

Plutarches 
judgement  of 
miracles. 


Camillus 
stately 
triumphs  of 
the  Veians. 


A  lawe  for 
the  people  of 
Rome  to  dwell 
at  Veies. 


we  have  heard  men  of  our  time  affirme,  which  are  not  un- 
credible,  nor  lightly  to  be  condemned.  But  for  such  matters, 
it  is  as  daungerous  to  geve  to  much  credit  to  them,  as  also 
to  discredit  them  to  much,  by  reason  of  the  weaknes  of  mans 
nature,  which  hath  no  certen  boundes,  nor  can  rule  it  self, 
but  ronneth  somtimes  after  vanitie  and  superstition,  and 
otherwhile  also  dispiseth  and  contemneth  holy  and  divine 
matters :  and  therefore  the  meane  is  the  vertue,  and  not  to 
goe  to  farre  in  this,  as  in  all  other  things  besides,  it  is  the 
best.  No  we  Camillus,  whether  his  late  enterprise  performed, 
in  winning  a  cittie  that  stoode  out  with  Rome,  and  helde 
siege  with  them  tenne  yeres  together,  had  put  him  into  an 
overwening  or  conceipt  of  him  selfe :  or  that  the  wordes  of 
the  people,  which  dyd  blesse  and  prayse  him,  had  made  him 
looke  highe,  and  presume  upon  him  selfe,  more  then  became 
the  modestie  of  a  civill  magistrate,  and  governour  of  the 
common  weale,  and  one  that  was  subject  to  the  lawe :  he 
shewed  a  stately  triumphe,  set  forth  with  all  riche  furniture, 
and  specially  for  that  him  self  was  caried  through  Rome 
upon  his  triumphant  charret  drawen  with  foure  fayer  white 
coursers.  This,  never  captaine  nor  generall  before  him  durst 
undertake  to  doe,  neither  any  ever  after  him  attempted  it : 
for  they  thinke  it  is  a  sacred  cariage,  and  only  mete  for  the 
King,  and  father  of  the  goddes.  This  bred  him  much  envy 
amongest  the  cittizens,  which  had  not  bene  acquainted  with 
so  great  statelynes.  There  was  another  occasion  also  that 
made  them  mislike  him  much :  which  was,  bicause  he  stood 
against  the  lawe  put  forth  that  they  should  devide  the  cittie 
of  Rome.  For  the  Tribunes  of  the  people  dyd  set  out  an 
Edict,  that  the  Senate  and  people  of  Rome  should  be  devided 
into  two  partes :  and  that  those  on  whom  the  lotte  should 
fall,  should  abide  still  in  Rome,  and  the  other  should  goe 
dwell  in  the  newe  wonne  cittie  of  Veies.  These  were  the 
reasons  to  persuade  this :  that  both  the  one  and  the  other 
sorte  should  be  richer  then  they  were  before,  and  should 
more  easely  keepe  their  lands  and  goodes  from  the  invasion 
of  their  enemies,  by  meanes  of  these  two  great  citties.  The 
people  which  were  multiplied  nowe  into  great  numbers,  and 
had  served  duetifuUy  and  daungerously,  thought  it  the  best 
328 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

waye  in  the  worlde  :  Therefore  they  still  cried  out,  and  FURIUS 
thronged  with  great  tumulte,  about  their  pulpit  for  orations,  CAMILLUS 
praying  that  this  lawe  might  be  put  unto  the  voyces  of  the 
people.  But  the  whole  Senate,  and  wisest  cittizens  among 
them,  judging  this  motion  of  the  Tribunes  would  be  the 
destruction,  and  not  the  division  of  the  cittie  of  Rome : 
could  in  no  wise  abide  it  should  goe  any  further.  Where- 
upon they  went  and  prayed  Camillus  helpe :  who  fearing  to 
bring  it  to  the  pointe,  whether  the  lawe  should  passe  or  no, 
dyd  allwayes  seeke  new  occasions  and  letts,  still  to  delaye 
and  put  of  the  matter,  and  staye  the  confirmation  of  this 
lawe.  For  these  causes,  he  was  hated  of  the  common  people. 
But  the  originall  and  apparant  cause  of  the  peoples  ill  will  The  chiefest 
towards  him,  was  for  taking  from  them  the  tenth  parte  of  cause  of  the 
their  spoyles :  and  it  was  not  altogether  without  some  P^^,?  ^^  .  . 
reason,  and  to  saye  truely  the  people  dyd  him  much  wrong  Camillus. 
to  beare  him  such  malice  for  that.  For  before  he  went  to 
the  cittie  of  Veies,  he  made  a  solemne  vowe  to  offer  the  tenth 
parte  unto  the  goddes,  of  the  spoyles  of  the  cittie,  if  he 
wanne  the  same.  But  when  it  was  taken  and  sacked,  whether 
it  was  that  he  was  lothe  to  trouble  the  cittizens,  or  having  a 
worlde  of  busines  in  his  head,  that  he  easely  forgate  his  vowe : 
he  suffered  the  souldiers  to  devide  the  spoyle  amongest  them, 
and  to  take  the  benefit  to  them  selves.  Shortely  after  he 
was  discharged  of  his  charge,  he  dyd  enforme  the  Senate  of 
his  vowe.  Furthermore,  the  soothesayers  made  reporte  at 
that  very  time,  howe  they  knewe  by  certaine  signes  and 
tokens  of  their  sacrifices,  that  the  goddes  were  offended  for 
somwhat,  and  howe  they  must  of  necessitie  be  pacified  againe. 
Whereupon  the  Senate  presently  made  an  order,  where  it 
was  unpossible  every  man  should  bring  in  againe  the  selfe 
same  things  he  had  gotten,  to  make  a  newc  division  of  every 
mans  share :  that  every  one  therefore  upon  his  othe  should 
present  the  tenthe  parte  of  his  gaynes  he  had  gotten  by  that 
bootie.  There  was  great  trouble  about  it.  They  were 
driven  to  use  great  extremitie  to  the  poore  souldiers  (which 
had  traveled  sore,  and  taken  great  paynes  in  the  warres)  to 
make  them  to  restore  backe  such  a  coloppe  out  of  their  gainc, 
and  the  rather  bicausc  many  of  them  had  already  spent  it 
2T  329 


FURIUS 
CAMILLUS 


A  cuppe  of 
golde  sent  to 
Delphes. 

The  ladyes  of 
Rome  gave 
their  juells 
towards  the 
making  of  it. 

What  time 
womens 
prayses  be- 
ganne  at 
funeralls  in 
Rome. 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

every  penney :  and  for  this  trouble,  they  all  cried  out  with 

open  mouth  against  Camillus.    But  he  being  set  up,  and  not 

knowing  otherwise  howe  to  excuse  him  selfe,  was  forced  to 

bring  forth  as  cold  and  as  unreasonable  an  excuse  as  he 

could  make,  which  was :  forsoothe  he  had  forgotten  his  vowe 

he  had  made.     The  people  notwithstanding  were  eger  still 

against  him,  saying :  howe  he  had  vowed  then  to  offer  the 

tenth  parte  of  the  enemies  goodes  to  the  goddes,  and  that 

nowe  he  would  performe  it  with  the  tenthes  of  the  cittizens 

goodes.      Nevertheles,  every  man  having  brought  that  he 

should  for  his  parte :  it  was  thought  good  they  should  cause 

a  massie  cuppe  of  golde  to  be  made,  to  send  to  the  temple  of 

Apollo  at  Delphes.     And  small  store  of  golde  being  in  the 

cittie  of  Rome,  as  the  officers  of  the  cittie  were  serching  up 

and  downe  to  get  it :    the  women  of  Rome  of  their  owne 

voluntary  willes  without  motion,  agreed  among  them  selves, 

that  they  would  departe  with  all  the  juells  they  had,  towardes 

the  making  up  of  this  offering,  which  came  to  the  weight  of 

eight  talents.    In  recompence  whereof,  to  honour  them  withall : 

the  Senate  ordeined  that  they  should  be  praysed  openly  with 

funerall  orations  at  their  buriall,  as  they  dyd  use  at  honorable 

and  noble  mens  obsequies.     For  before  that  lawe,  it  was  not 

the    manner   to   prayse  women   openly  at  their   funeralles. 

Nowe  there  were  appointed  three  of  the  noblest  men  of  the 

cittie  to  goe  to  carie  this  offering,  and  they  sent  them  out  in 

a  galley  well  manned,  stored  also  with  good  mariners,  and 

trimly  set  forth  in  all  triumphing  manner :  howbeit  both  in 

storme,  and  calme  weather,  they  were  in  daunger  of  their 

lives.      For    after   that    they    had    scaped    drowning    very 

narrowly  by  tempest,  when   the  winde  was  downe  againe, 

they  fell    into    another   daunger,   which  they  escaped  also 

beyond  all  hope.     For  harde  by  the   lies   of  JEolus,  the 

gallyes  of  the  Liparians  fell  upon  them,  as  if  they  had  bene 

rovers.    But  when  the  Liparians  sawe  they  made  no  resistance, 

and  intreated  them,  holding  up  their  hands :  they  gave  no 

further  charge  upon  them,  but  only  fastened  their  gallye 

unto  theirs.     So  when  they  had  haled  them  to  the  shore, 

they  declared  they  were  pirates,  and  offered  to  make  porte 

sale  of  the  men  and  goodes,  as  if  they  had  bene  a  lawfuU 

330 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

prise :  and  had  solde  them  in  deede,  had  not  the  wisedome      FURIUS 
and  authoritie  of  Timesitheus  letted  them,  who  was  governour    CAMILLUS 
at  that  time  of  the  cittie,  and  had  great  a  doe  to  persuade 
them  to  let  them  goe.     And  he  dyd  not  so  leave  them,  but 
sent  out  certaine  of  his  owne  shippes  to  accompanie  them  in 
their  jorney,  who  dyd  helpe  them  to  goe  and  performe  their 
offering.    For  which  curtesie  of  his,  the  Romaines  afterwardes 
dyd  him  great  honour  at  Rome,  according  to  his  well  deserv- 
ing.    The  Tribunes  of  the  people  beganne  nowe  to  set  a 
foote  againe  the  lawe  for  the  deviding  of  the  inhabitans  of 
Rome   unto   the   cittie   of  Veies.      But  the  warres  of  the 
Falisces  fell  out  happely  at  that  time,  wherby  the  noble  men 
dyd    choose   such    officers   as   they  would.      So  they  chose  Camillus 
Camillus,  Tribimus  militaris  of  the  souldiers,  and  five  other  £^?^^" 
to  assiste  him,  the  service  in  that  case  requiring  a  generall,  ^^^  souldiers 
that  caried  both  authoritie  and  reputation  among  them,  as 
an   olde   experienced    souldier   in   the    warres.     When   the 
people   had    confirmed    the   election,    Camillus   immediatly 
entred   the  territories  of  the  Falisces  with   the  Romaines 
armie,  where  he  layed  siege  unto  the  cittie  of  the  Falerians,  Camillus  be- 
being  very  well  fortified,  vitteled  and  stored,  with  all  other  siegeth  the 
munition  of  warre.     Knowing  therefore  that  it  was  no  small  ^'a^^e^ai^s- 
attempt  to  winne  this  cittie,  and  that  it  would  not  be  done 
in  a  shorte  time  :  he  pollitikely  sought  (whatsoever  came  of 
it)  to  keepe  his  countrimen  occupied  about  some  thing,  and 
to  staye  them  for  going  home,  least  by  repayring  to  Rome, 
they  should  have  many  occasions  to  rebell,  and  raise  some 
civill   dissention.     For  the    Romaines  dyd  wisely   use  this 
remedie :    to    disperse    abroade    like    good    phisicians,   the 
humours  which  troubled  the  quiet  state  of  their  common 
weale  at  home.     But  the  Falerians  trusting  in  the  situation 
of  their  cittie,  which  was  very  strong  in  all  partes,  made  so 
litle  accompt  of  the  siege  :  that  those  which  kept  not  watche 
upon  the  walles,  walked  up  and  downe  in  their  gownes  in 
the    cittie,    without   any   weapon   about    them,    and    their 
children  went  to  schoole,  the  schoolemaster  also  would  com- 
monly leade  them  abroade  out  of  the  cittie  a  walking,  to 
playe  and  passe  the  time  by  the  towne  walles.     For  the 
whole  cittie  had  one  common  schoolemaster,  as  the  Grecians 

331 


FURIUS 
CAMILLUS 


Camillus 
worthie  acte 
totheschoole- 
masterj  be- 
traying the 
Falerians 
children. 

A  noble  saying 
of  Camillus, 
and  wise  pre- 
cept for 
warres. 

Valiantnes  to 
be  preferred 
before  vUanie. 


LIVES    OF   THE   NOBLE 

also  have,  which  doe  bring  up  their  children  from  litle  ones  in 
company  together,  bicause  one  maye  be  familiarly  acquainted 
with  an  other.  This  schoolemaster  spying  his  time  to  doe 
the  Falerians  a  shrewd  turne,  dyd  accustomably  take  all  his 
scholers  out  of  the  cittie  with  him,  to  playe,  not  farre  from 
the  walles  at  the  beginning,  and  afterwards  brought  them 
into  the  cittie  againe,  after  they  had  played  their  fill.  Now 
after  he  had  led  them  abroade  thus  once  or  twise,  he  trayned 
them  out  every  daye  a  litle  further,  to  make  them  to  be 
bolde,  persuading  them  there  was  no  daunger.  But  at  the 
length,  one  daye  having  gotten  all  the  cittizens  children 
with  him,  he  led  them  within  the  watche  of  the  Romaines 
campe,  and  there  delivered  all  his  scholers  into  their  handes, 
and  prayed  them  they  would  bring  him  unto  their  generall. 
So  they  did.  And  when  he  came  before  Camillus,  he  be- 
ganne  to  tell  him  that  he  was  schoolemaster  unto  all  these 
children,  nevertheles  that  he  dyd  more  esteeme  to  have  his 
grace  and  favour,  then  regarde  his  office  he  had  by  this  name 
and  title.  Camillus  hearing  what  he  sayed,  and.  beholding 
his  threacherous  parte,  he  sayed  to  those  that  were  about  him  : 
Warre  of  it  selfe  surely  is  an  evill  thing,  for  in  warres  many 
injuries  and  mischieves  are  done:  nevertheles  among  good 
men  there  is  a  law  and  discipline,  which  doth  forbid  them  to 
seeke  victorie  by  wicked  and  traiterous  meanes,  and  that  a 
noble  and  worthie  generall  should  make  warre,  and  procure 
victorie,  by  trusting  to  his  own  valliantnes,  and  not  by 
anothers  vilenes  and  villanie.  Therefore  he  commaunded  his 
sergeants  to  teare  the  clothes  of  the  backe  of  this  vile  schoole- 
master, and  to  binde  his  hands  behinde  him :  and  that  they 
should  geve  the  children  roddes  and  whippes  in  their  handes, 
to  whippe  the  traitour  backe  againe  into  the  cittie,  that  had 
thus  betrayed  them,  and  grieved  their  parents.  Now  when 
the  Falerians  heard  newes  that  the  schoolemaster  had  thus 
betrayed  them,  all  the  cittie  fell  a  weeping  (as  every  man 
maye  thinke  for  so  great  a  losse)  and  men  and  women  ranne 
together  one  in  anothers  necke,  to  the  town  walles,  and 
gates  of  the  cittie,  like  people  out  of  their  wittes,  they  were 
so  troubled.  When  they  came  thither,  they  saw  their 
children  bringing  their  schoolemaster  backe  againe,  starcke 
332 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

naked  and  bownde,  whipping  of  him,  and  calling  Camillas      FURIUS 
their  father,  their  god,  and  their  saviour :  so  that  not  only    CAMILLUS 
the  fathers  and  mothers  of  the  children,  but  all  other  the 
cittizens  also   in   generall,  dyd  conceyve  in  them  selves  a 
wonderfuU   admiration   and   great   love,   of  the   wisedome, 
goodnes,  and  justice  of  Camillus.     So  that  even  presently 
they  called  a  counsaill,  and  there  it  was  concluded   they  TheFaliscians 
should  send  ambassadours  forthwith  unto  him,  to  put  their  by  their  am- 
lives  and  goodes  to  his  mercy  and  favour.     Camillus  sent  ^^ssadours 
their  ambassadours  unto  Rome,  where  audience  being  geven  them  selves 
unto  them  by  the  Senate,  the  ambassadours  sayed :   Bicause  and  goodes 
the  Romaines  preferred  justice  above  victorie,  they  taught  unto  Camil- 
them  to  be  better  contented  to  submit  them  selves  unto  ^'^^• 
them,  then  to  be  their  own  men  at  libertie  :  confessing  their  The  message 
vertue  dyd  more  overcome  them,  then  any  force  or  power  of  the  ambas- 
could  doe.     The  Senate  dispatched  letters  unto  Camillus,  FalSns*^^ 
giving  him  commission  to  doe  and  determine  as  he  thought  mj^o  the 
good.     So  he  having  taken  a  certen  summe  of  money  of  the  Romaines. 
Falerians,  dyd  furthermore  make  peace  and  league  with  all  Camillus 
the   rest   of  the   Falisces :    and  thereupon  returned  backe  tookeasumme 
againe  to  Rome.     But  the  souldiers  grudged  marvelously  at  ^^  money  of 
it.     For  they  stoode  in  hope  to  have  had  the  sacking  of  the  31,^  mide^"^' 
cittie.     When  there  was  no  remedie,  but  they  must  needes  peace  with  all 
returne  home  emptie  handed,  they  beganne  to  accuse  Camillus  the  rest  of  the 
to  the  rest  of  the  cittizens,  as  sone  as  they  came  to  Rome,  Falisces. 
saying :  he  loved  not  the  common  people,  and  howe  for  spite 
he  disapointed  their  army  of  the  spoyle.      On  the  other 
side,  the  Tribunes  of  the  people  beganne  to  revive  the  lawe, 
for  the  deviding  of  the  inhabitants  of  Rome,  and  were  ready 
to  passe  it  by  the  voyces  of  the  people.    Camillus  not  fearing 
the  ill  will  of  the  commons,  dyd  boldely  speake,  and  doe  in 
open  presence,  all  he  could  against  it.     So  that  plainely  he 
was  the  chiefest  cause,  that  the  people  against  their  willes 
(intreate  what  they  could)  were  driven  to  let  it  alone.     But 
withall  they  were  so  spitefull  against  him,  that  notwithstand- 
ing his  sorowe  and  misfortune  for  the  death  of  his  sonne 
(dying  of  a  sickenes)  was  great :  they  would  not  of  malice 
once  take  pittie  or  compassion  of  him.     The  losse  whereof 
(albeit  he  was  of  a  very  good  and  curteous  nature)  was  so 

333 


FURIUS 
CAMILLUS 

Lucius  Apu- 
leius  accused 
Camillus. 


The  equitie  of 
the  Romaiues 
who  would 
not  pervert 
the  lawe 
though  they 
dearely  loved 
Camillus:  but 
willingly 
oflFeredtopaye 
his  fine. 

Camillus 
prayer  before 
his  departure 
out  of  Rome. 


Camillus  exil- 
eth  him  selfe 
from  Rome. 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

grievous,  and  made  him  so   unquiet :    that  being  accused 
before  the  people,  he  sturred  not  once  out  of  his  house,  but 
was  locked   up  with    the  women,  which   lamented   for   his 
Sonne  departed.     He  that  dyd  accuse  him,  was  one  Lucius 
Apuleius,  burdening  him  that  he  had  stolen  and  taken  awaye, 
parte  of  the  spoyle  of  the  Thuscans :  and  sayed,  they  had 
seene  certen  brasen   gates   at   his   house,  which  had  bene 
brought  out  of  Thuscan.     Nowe  the  people  were  so  mali- 
ciously bent  against  him,  that  every  man  might  see,  if  they 
could  once  take  him  in  a  trippe,  upon  any  advantage  what- 
soever, they  would  douteles  have  condemned  him.     Where- 
fore  calling   together  his  friendes  and  souldiers  .that  had 
served  under  him  in  the  warres,  or  that  had  taken  charge 
with  him,  which  were  many  in  number :  he  earnestly  besought 
them,  that  they  would  not  suffer  him  thus  vilely  to  be  con- 
demned, through  false  and  unjust  accusations  layed  against 
him,  nor  to  be  so  scorned  and  defamed  by  his  enemies.     His 
friends  having  layed  their  heades  together,  and   consulted 
thereupon,  made  him  aunswer:  howe  for  his  judgment  they 
could  not  remedy  it,  but  if  he  were  condemned,  they  would 
all  joyne  together  with  a  very  goodwill,  to  helpe  to  paye  his 
fine.     But  he  being  of  minde  not  to  beare  such  an  open 
shame  and  ignominie,  determined  in  choller  to  leave  the 
cittie,  and  to  exile  him  selfe  from  it.     And  after  he  had 
taken  his  leave  of  his  wife  and  children,  bidding  them  fare- 
well :  he  went  out  of  his  house  to  the  gates  of  the  cittie,  and 
sayed    never   a  word.     When  he  came  thither,   he  stayed 
sodainely,  and  returning  backe  againe,  he  lift  up  his  hands 
towards  the  CapitoU,  and  made  his  prayers  unto  the  godds : 
that  if  it  were  of  very  spight  and  malice,  and  not  of  just 
deserving,  that   the   common   people   compelled   him    thus 
shamefully  to  forsake  the  cittie,  that  the  Romaines  might 
quickely  repente  them,  and  in  the  face  of  the  worlde  might 
wishe  for  him,  and  have  nede  of  him.     After  he  had  made 
these  prayers  against  the  cittizens  (as  Achilles  dyd  against 
the  Grecians)  he  went  his  way,  and  was  condemned  for  his 
contempte,  m  the  summe  of  fifteene  thousand  Asses  of  the 
Romaine  coyne,  which  make  of  Greekishe  money,  a  thousand 
five  hundred  Drachmas  of  silver :  for  an  As  was  a  litle  pece 
334 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

of  money,  wherof  tenne  of  them  made  a  Romaine  penney.      FURIUS 
Howbeit  there  was  not  a  Romaine  of  any  understanding,  but    CAMILLUS 
beleeved  certenly  that  some  great  punishment  would  followe 
them  incontinently,  and  that  the  wrong  and  injurie  they  had 
done  him  would  be  quickely  requited,  with  some  most  sharpe 
and  terrible  revenge,  not  only  unpleasaunt  to  thinke  upon, 
but  further  most  notable  to  be  spoken  of  through  the  world. 
There  fell  out  so  sodainely  upon  it,  such  mischief  toward  the 
cittie  of  Rome,  and  the  present  time  also  brought  forth  such 
occasion  of  daunger  and  destruction  thereof,  to  their  shame 
and  infamie  :  that  it  was  uncertaine  whether  it  happened  by 
chaunce,  or  els  it  was  the  handie  worcke  of  some  god,  that 
would  not  suffer  vertue  recompenced  with   ingratitude,  to 
passe  unrevenged.      Their  first  token  that  threatned  some  Tokens  of  the 
great  mischief  to  light  upon  them,  was  the  death  of  lulius,  ^firres  of  the 
one  of  the  Censors :  for  the  Romaines  doe  greately  reverence     ^^  ^^' 
the  office  of  a  Censor,  and  esteeme  it  as  a  sacred  place.     The 
seconde  token  that  happened  a  litle  before  Camillus  exile, 
was  :  that  one  Marcus  Caeditius,  a  man  but  of  meane  qualitie, 
and  none  of  the  Senatours  (but  otherwise  a  fayer  conditioned 
honest   man,    and    of  good   conscience)  tolde   the    Tribuni 
milttares  of  a  thing  that  was  to  be  well  considered  of.     For 
he  sayed  that  the  night  before,  as  he  was  going  on  his  waye 
in  the  newe  streete,  he  heard   one  call    him  alowde :    and 
returning   backe   to   see  what   it   was,  he   sawe   no   living 
creature,  but  only  heard  a  voyce  bigger  then  a  mans,  which 
sayed  unto  him  :  Marcus  Caeditius,  goe  thy  waye  to  morrowe 
morning   to   the    Tribuni   militareSy   and   byd   them    looke 
quickely  for  the  Gaules.     The  Tribunes  were  mery  at  the 
matter,  and  made  but  a  jeast  at  his  warning,  and  straight 
after   followed   the    condemnation   of    Camillus.     Nowe   as 
touching   the    Gaules.     They  came  (as  they  saye)  of  the  The  originall 
Celtae,    whose    country   not   being   able    to    mainteine    the  heginning  of 
multitudes    of  them,  they  were  driven  to  goe  seeke  other      ^  '^auies. 
countryes  to  inhabite  in :   and  there  were  amongest  them 
many  thousands  of  young  men  of  service  and  good  souldiers, 
but  yet  more  women  and  litle  children  by  a  great  number. 
Of  these  people,  some  of  them  went  towards  the  north  sea, 
passing  the  mountaines  Riphei,  and  dyd  dwell  in  the  extreme 

335 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 


FURIUS 
CAMILLUS 


Arron  a 
Thuscan  the 
procurer  of 
the  Gaules 
comming  into 
Italic. 


Lacke  of 
justice,  the 
cause  of  the 
destruction 
and  conquest 
of  Thuscan  by 
the  Gaules. 

The  power  of 
the  Thuscans 
in  olde  time. 


partes  of  Europe.  Other  of  them  remained  betwene  the 
mountaines  Pirenei,  and  the  greatest  mountaines  of  the 
Alpes,  neere  unto  the  Senones,  and  the  Celtorii.  There 
they  continued  a  long  time,  untill  they  fortuned  in  the  ende 
to  taste  of  the  wine,  which  was  first  brought  out  of  Italic 
unto  them.  Which  drinke  they  found  so  good,  and  were  so 
delited  with  it,  that  sodainely  they  armed  themselves :  and 
taking  their  wives  and  children  with  them,  they  went  directly 
towards  the  Alpes,  to  goe  seeke  out  the  country  that  brought 
forth  such  fruite,  judging  all  other  countries  in  respect  of 
that,  to  be  but  wilde  and  barren.  It  is  sayed,  that  the  first 
man  which  brought  wine  unto  them,  and  that  dyd  procure 
them  to  passe  into  Italic,  was  a  noble  man  of  Thuscan  called 
Arron,  and  otherwise  of  no  ill  disposed  nature :  howbeit  he 
was  subject  to  this  misfortune  following.  He  was  tutor  unto 
an  orphan  childe,  the  richest  that  was  at  that  time  in  all 
the  countrie  of  Thuscan,  and  of  complexion  was  wonderfull 
fayer :  he  was  called  Lucumo.  This  orphan  was  brought  up 
in  Arrons  house  of  a  childe,  and  though  he  was  growen  to 
mans  state,  yet  he  would  not  goe  from  him,  fayning  he  was 
so  well,  and  to  his  liking.  But  in  deede  the  cause  was,  that 
he  loved  his  maistres  (Arrons  wife)  whom  secretly  he  had 
enjoyed  a  long  time,  and  she  him,  that  made  him  like  his 
continuance  there.  Howbeit  in  the  ende,  love  having  so 
possessed  them  both,  that  neither  parte  could  withdrawe 
from  other,  much  lesse  culler  that  they  had  long  enjoyed : 
the  young  man  stole  her  away  from  him,  and  kept  her  still 
by  force.  Arron  put  him  in  sute,  but  he  prevayled  not :  for 
Lucumo  overweyed  him  with  friends,  money,  giftes,  and 
charges.  But  he  tooke  it  so  grevously,  that  he  left  his 
country :  and  having  heard  talke  of  the  Gaules,  he  went 
unto  them,  and  was  their  guide  to  bring  them  into  Italic. 
So  they  conquered  at  their  first  coming  all  that  country 
which  the  Thuscans  helde  in  olde  time,  beginning  at  the 
foote  of  the  mountaines,  and  stretched  out  in  length  from 
one  sea  unto  the  other  which  environneth  Italic,  as  the  names 
them  selves  doe  witnesse.  For  they  call  yet  that  sea  which 
looketh  unto  the  northe,  the  Adriatick  sea :  by  reason  of  a 
cittie  built  sometime  by  the  Thuscans,  which  was  called 
336 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

Adria.     The  other,  which  lieth  directly  over  against  the      FURIUS 
South,  is  called  the  Thuscan  sea.     All  that  countrie  is  well    CAMILLUS 
planted  with  trees,  and  hath  goodly  pleasaunt  pastures  for 
beastes  and  cattell  to  feede  in,  and  is  notably  watered  with 
goodly  ronning  rivers.    There  was  also  at  that  time  eighteene 
fayer  great  citties  in  that  country,  all  of  them  very  strong 
and  well  seated,  aswell  for  to  enriche  the  inhabitants  thereof 
by  traffike,  as  to  make  them  to  live  delicately  for  pleasure. 
All  these  citties  the  Gaules  had  wonne,  and  had  expulsed 
the  Thuscans,  but  this  was  done  long  time  before.     Now  the 
Gaules  being  further  entred  into  Thuscan,  dyd  besiege  the 
cittie  of  Clusium.     Thereupon  the  Clusians  seeking  ayde  of  Clusium  a 
the  Romaines,  besought  them  they  would  send  letters  and  cittieofThus- 
ambassadours  unto  these  barbarous  people  in  their  favour.  ^vtheGaules 
They  sent  unto  them  three  of  the  best  and  most  honorable    * 
persones  of  the  cittie,  all  three  of  the  house  of  the  Fabians. 
The  Gaules  receyved  them  very  curteously,  bicause  of  the 
name  of  Rome :  and  leaving  to  assaulte  the  cittie,  they  gave 
them  audience.    The  Romaine  ambassadours  dyd  aske  them, 
what  injurie  the  Clusians  had  done  unto  them,  that  they 
came  to  make  warres  with   them.      Brennus    king   of  the  Brennus  king 
Gaules,  hearing  this  question,  smiled,  and  aunswered  them  of  the  Gaules. 
thus :  The  Clusians  doe  us  wrong  in  this :  they  being  but 
fewe  people  together,  and  not  able  to  occupie  much  lande, 
doe  notwithstanding  possesse  much,  and  will  let  us  have  no 
parte  with  them,  that  are  straungers,  and  out  of  our  country, 
and   stande    in   neede   of  seate  and  habitation.     The  like 
wrong  was  offered  unto  you  Romaines  in  old  time,  by  those 
of  Alba,  by  the  Fidenates,  and  the  Ardeates :  and  not  long 
sithence,  by  the  Veians,  and  the  Capenates :  and  partly  by 
the  Falisces  and  the  Volsces :  against  whom  ye  have  taken, 
and  doe  take  armes,  at  all  times.     And  as  ofte  as  they  will 
let  ye   have   no   parte   of  their   goods,  ye   imprison   their 
persones,  robbe  and  spoyle  their  goodes,  and  distroye  their 
citties.     And  in  doing  this,  ye  doe  them  no  wrong  at  all, 
but  followe  the  oldest  lawe  that  is  in  the  worlde,  which  ever 
leaveth   unto  the  stronger,  that  which  the  weaker  can  not 
keepe  and  enjoye.     Beginning  with  the  goddes,  and  ending 
with  beastes :  the  which  have  this  propertie  in  nature,  that 
2U  337 


FURIUS 
CAMILLUS 


Fabius 
Ambustus 
a  Romaine, 
breaketh  the 
common  lawe 
of  all  nations. 


Brennus 
reproveth 
Fabius  for 
breaking  the 
lawe  of  arm es. 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

the  bigger  and  stronger  have  ever  the  vauntage  of  the 
weaker  and  lesser.  Therefore,  leave  your  pittie  to  see  the 
Clusians  besieged,  least  you  teache  us  Gaules  to  take  com- 
passion also  of  those  you  have  oppressed.  By  this  aunswer 
the  Romaines  knewe  very  wel,  there  was  no  waye  to  make 
peace  with  king  Brennus.  Wherefore  they  entred  into  the 
cittie  of  Clusium,  and  incoraged  the  inhabitants  to  salye  out 
with  them  upon  these  barbarous  people :  either  bicause  they 
had  a  desire  to  prove  the  valliantnes  of  the  Gaules,  or  els 
to  shewe  their  owne  corage  and  manhoode.  So  the  cittizens 
went  out,  and  skirmished  with  them  harde  by  the  walles  : 
in  the  which  one  of  the  Fabians,  called  Quintus  Fabius 
Ambustus,  being  excellently  well  horsed,  and  putting  spurres 
to  him,  dyd  set  upon  a  goodly  bigge  personage  of  the  Gaules, 
that  had  advaunced  him  selfe  farre  before  all  the  troupe  of 
his  companions.  He  was  not  knowen  at  the  first  encounter, 
as  well  for  the  sodaine  meeting  and  skirmishing  together,  as 
for  that  his  glistering  armour  dimmed  the  eyes  of  the 
enemies.  But  after  he  had  slaine  the  Gaule,  and  came  to 
strippe  him  :  Brennus  then  knewe  him,  and  protested  against 
him,  calling  the  goddes  to  witnesse,  howe  he  had  broken  the 
lawe  of  armes,  that  coming  as  an  ambassadour,  he  had  taken 
upon  him  the  forme  of  an  enemie.  Hereupon  Brennus  forth- 
with left  skirmishing,  and  raising  the  seige  from  Clusium, 
marched  with  his  army  unto  Rome  gates.  And  to  the  ende 
the  Romaines  might  knowe,  that  the  Gaules  were  not  well 
pleased  for  the  injurie  they  had  receyved :  to  have  an  honest 
culler  to  beginne  warres  with  the  Romaines,  he  sent  an 
Herauld  before  to  Rome,  to  demaunde  liverie  of  the  man 
that  had  offended  him,  that  he  might  punish  him  accordingly. 
In  the  meane  time,  he  him  selfe  came  marching  after,  by 
small  journeys  to  receyve  their  aunswer.  The  Senate  here- 
upon assembled,  and  many  of  the  Senatours  blamed  the 
rashnes  of  the  Fabians :  but  most  of  all,  the  priestes  called 
Faeciales.  For  they  followed  it  very  earnestly,  as  a  matter 
that  concerned  religion,  and  the  honour  of  the  godds : 
declaring  how  the  Senate,  in  discharge  of  all  the  residue  of 
the  cittie  of  the  offence  committed,  should  laye  the  whole 
waight  and  burden  of  it  upon  him  alone,  that  only  had  done 
338 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

the  facte.     Numa  Pompilius,  the  justest  and  most  peaceable       FURIUS 
of  all  the  kings  of  Rome  that  had  bene,  was  he  that  first    CAMILLUS 
erected  the  colledge  of  these  Faeciales,  and  dyd  ordeine  that  Numa  Pom- 
they  should  be  the  keepers  of  peace,  and  the  judges  to  heare  pilius  erected 
and  alio  we  all  the  causes,  for  the  which  they  should  justely  of^h^p^c^a 
beginne  any  warres,     Nevertheles,  the  Senate  in  the  ende  igg. 
turned  over  the  ordering  of  the  matter,  unto  the  whole  will 
and  judgment  of  the  people,  before  whom    these  priestes 
Faeciales  dyd  also  accuse  Fabius  Ambustus.    The  people  made 
so  litle  accompt  of  their  propounded  religion,  and  honour  of 
the  godds  in  that  case :  that  in  stede  of  delivering  of  this 
Fabius  unto  the  enemy,  they  dyd  choose  him  for  one  of  the 
Tribunes  of  the  souldiers  with   his  brothers.     The  Gaules 
understanding  this,  were  so  furious  and  angrie  thereat,  that 
they  would  no  lenger  linger  their  journeis,  but  marched  with  The  Gaules 
all  spede  unto  Rome.     The  people  that  dwelt  by  the  high  marche  to- 
wayes  where  they  should  passe  by,  were  marvelously  affrayed  ^^^ 
to  see  the  multitude  of  them,  and  their  brave  and  universall 
furniture :  and  beginning  to  doubt  the  furie  of  their  rage, 
they  imagined  first  of  all  that  they  would  destroye  all  the 
champion  country  before  them,  and  afterwardes  would  take 
all  the  strong  citties.     They  contrariwise  dyd  take  nothing 
at  all  out  of  the  fieldes,  neither  dyd  any  hurte  or  displeasure 
unto  any  bodie  :  but  passing  by  their  citties,  cried  out  they 
went  to  Rome,  and  would  have  no  warres  but  with    the 
Romaines,  and  howe  otherwise  they  desired  to  be  friendes 
with  all  the  worlde.     These  barbarous  people  marching  on 
in  this  wise  towards  Rome,  the  Tribunes  of  the  souldiers 
brought  their  army  to  the  field  to  encounter  them.     They 
were  no  lesse  in  number  then  the  Gaules,   for  they  were 
fourty  thousand  footemen.    Howbeit  most  part  of  them  were  TheRomaiues 
rawe  souldiers,  that  had  never  served  in  the  warres  before,  am^ie  were 
They  were   very   careles   of  the   goddes,  and    dissolute   in  °^  ®" 

matters  of  religion  :  for  they  passed  neither  for  good  signes 
in  their  sacrifices,  neither  to  aske  counsaill  of  their  soothe- 
sayers,  which  the  Romaines  were  religiously  wont  to  doe, 
before  they  gave  any  battaill.  To  make  the  matter  worse  : 
the  number  of  the  captaines  having  power  and  authoritie 
alike,  dyd  asmuche  (or  more  then   the  rest)  disorder  and 

339 


FURIUS 
CAMILLUS 

To  many 
rulers  of  an 
armie,  doe 
confound  all 
order,  and 
putteth  the 
armyin  perill. 


Alliafl. 


The  battell  at 
the  river  of 
Allia  where 
the  Gaules 
wanne  the 
field  of  the 
Romaines. 


300  of  a  name 
slaine  in  one 
daye. 


LIVES    OF    THE    NOBLE 

confounde  their  doings.  For  ofte  times  before,  in  farre 
lesser  matters  and  daungers  then  these,  they  dyd  use  to 
chuse  speciall  officers  that  had  sole  and  soveraine  authoritie, 
which  they  called  Dictators  :  knowing  very  well  of  how  great 
importance  it  is,  in  daungerous  times  to  have  but  one  head 
and  generall,  to  commaund  all,  and  to  have  supreme  authori- 
tie of  justice  in  his  hands,  and  not  to  be  bound  to  deliver 
accompt  of  his  doings  to  any.  The  injury  also  which  they 
had  to  ungratefully  done  to  Camillus,  brought  great  mischief 
and  inconvenience  then  upon  them.  For  the  captaines  after 
him,  durst  no  more  commaunde  the  people  roughly,  but  ever 
after  dyd  flatter  them  much.  When  their  army  was  nowe 
brought  into  the  field,  they  encamped  them  selves  by  a  litle 
river  called  Allia,  about  the  eleventh  stone  from  Rome,  and 
not  farre  from  the  place  where  the  same  river  falleth  into 
Tyber.  Thither  came  the  barbarous  army  to  them,  who 
overthrew  them  in  battell,  by  their  disorder  and  lacke  of 
government.  For  the  left  pointe  or  winge  of  their  battell 
was  broken  of  at  the  first  by  the  Gaules,  who  charged  them 
so  furiously,  that  they  drave  them  hedlong  into  the  river. 
The  right  wing  then  retiring  out  of  the  plain,  before  they 
had  any  charge  geven,  and  having  gotten  certen  hilles  hard 
by  them  :  they  had  litle  hurte,  and  most  of  them  saving 
them  selves,  did  recover  Rome  again.  The  rest  that  escaped 
after  the  enemies  were  weary  of  killing,  fled  by  night  unto 
the  cittie  of  Veies,  thinking  Rome  had  bene  lost,  and  all  the 
cittie  put  to  the  sword.  This  overthrowe  was  on  the  longest 
daye  in  sommer,  the  moone  being  at  the  full :  and  the  daye 
before  fortuned  the  great  slaughter  of  the  Fabians,  of  the 
which  were  slaine  by  the  Thuscans  in  one  daye  300  all  of  a 
name.  The  very  daye  it  self  was  afterwards  called  Alliade, 
of  the  name  of  the  litle  river,  by  the  which  the  2  overthrow 
was  geven.  But  for  the  difference  of  dayes,  that  some  of 
them  are  naturally  unfortunate,  or  that  Heraclitus  the 
philosopher  had  reason  to  reprove  the  poet  Hesiodus,  for 
making  some  days  good,  and  some  dayes  ill,  as  though  he 
understood  they  were  not  all  of  one  nature  :  we  have  written 
and  declared  our  opinion  therof  in  other  places.  Yet, 
bicause  the  matter  delivereth  present  occasion  to  speake  of 
340 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

the  same,  perad venture  it  wil  not  be  amisse  to  alleage  a  few  FURIUS 
examples  of  it  only.  It  fortuned  the  Boeotians  on  a  time  to  CAMILLUS 
winne  two  honorable  victories,  on  the  first  daye  of  the 
moneth  they  call  Hippodromus  (and  which  the  Athenians 
call  Hecatomhceon)  that  is  now  the  moneth  of  lune,  by 
cither  of  the  which  they  did  still  restore  the  Grecians  to 
their  libertie.  The  first  was  the  battell  of  Leuctres.  The 
second  was  the  battell  of  Geraste,  which  was  two  hundred 
yeres  before,  when  they  overcame  Lattamias,  and  the  Thes- 
salians  in  battell.  The  Persians  contrarily  were  overcome 
in  battail  by  the  Grecians,  the  sixt  daye  of  August,  at  the 
jomey  of  Marathon.  The  third  day,  at  the  battell  of 
Platees.  And  on  the  selfe  same  daye,  neere  unto  Mycala. 
On  the  five  and  twenty  daye,  at  the  fight  of  Arbeles,  the 
Athenians  wanne  the  battell  by  sea,  neere  unto  He  of  Naxos, 
under  the  charge  and  government  of  Chabrias,  about  the 
full  of  the  moone,  in  the  moneth  of  August.  And  on  the 
twenty  of  the  same  moneth,  they  wanne  the  battell  of  Sala- 
mina:  as  we  have  written  more  amplie  in  our  historic  of 
difference  of  dayes.  The  moneth  of  Aprill  also  brought  to 
the  barbarous  people  many  notable  losses.  For  Alexander 
the  great,  overcame  the  generall  of  the  king  of  Persia,  at 
the  fielde  of  Granica,  in  the  sayed  moneth.  The  Cartha- 
ginians also  were  vanquished  in  Sicile  by  Timoleon,  on  the 
seven  and  twenty  daye  thereof.  On  which  daye  also  it  is 
thought  the  cittie  of  Troye  was  taken :  as  Ephorus,  Callis- 
thenes,  Damastes,  and  Phylarchus,  have  written  in  their 
histories.  Nowe  contrariwise.  The  moneth  of  lulye,  which 
the  Boeotians  call  Panemus,  hath  not  bene  gratious  to  the 
Grecians.  For  on  the  seven  daye  of  the  same,  they  were 
overthrowen  by  Antipater  at  the  battell  of  Cranon,  which 
was  their  utter  destruction.  They  had  before  also  lost  a 
battell  the  same  moneth,  neere  unto  the  cittie  of  Chaeronea, 
by  king  Phillippe.  On  the  same  daye  also,  and  in  the  very 
self  moneth  and  yere,  those  which  came  into  Italic  with 
king  Archidamus,  were  slaine  every  one  of  them,  by  the 
barbarous  people  of  the  country.  The  Carthaginians  also 
feare  the  seven  and  twenty  daye  of  the  same  moneth,  as  the 
daye  which  had  before  time  brought  them  into  manv  great 

'341 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

FURIUS      and   sorowfull   calamities.     Contrarilie  also,  I  knowe  very 
CAMILLUS    well,  how  about  the  feast  of  mysteries,  the  cittie  of  Thebes 
was  destroyed  by  Alexander,  and  that  the  Athenians  were 
compelled  to  receyve  a  garrison  of  souldiers  into  their  cittie, 
about  the  twenty  daye  of  August,  at  which  time  they  made 
the  holie  procession  of  the  mysteries  of  lacchus.     And  on 
the  self  day  the  Romaines  lost  their  armie,  and  their  generall 
Caepio,  who  was  slaine  by  the  Cimbres.     And  how  after- 
wards under  the  leading  of  Lucullus,  they  overcame  Tigranes, 
and  the  Armenians.     And  that  Attains,  and  Pompey  also, 
dyed   both  on  the  selfe  same  daye  they  were  borne.     To 
conclude,  infinite  examples  of  men  might  be  brought,  unto 
whom  after  like  revolutions  of  time,  there  happened  notable 
chaunces  of  good  or  ill.     But  to  retume  againe  unto  our 
historie.     The  daye  of  this  overthrowe,  is  one  of  those  which 
The  Romaines  the  Romaines  take  for  one  of  the  unfortunatest  dayes  that 
superstition      ever  came  unto  them.     And  by  reason  of  that  day,  they 
m  observing     reckon  two  other  dayes  of  every  moneth  very  unfortunate, 
"  engendred  through  feare  and  superstition,  which  spreadeth 

farre  (as  commonly  it  doth)  upon  such  sinister  misfortunes. 
But  for  this  matter,  we  have  written  it  more  largely  and 
exquisitly  in  the  booke  we  made,  of  the  ceremonies  and 
customes  of  the  Romaines.  Now  after  this  battell  lost,  if 
the  Gaules  had  hottely  pursued  the  chase  of  their  flying 
enemies,  nothing  could  have  saved  Rome  from  being  taken, 
and  the  inhabitants  therof  from  being  put  unto  the  sword. 
For  the  Romaines  that  fled  from  the  battell,  brought  such  a 
feare  upon  those  that  receyved  them,  and  filled  the  whole 
cittie  of  Rome  with  such  greif  and  trembling :  that  they 
wist  not  what  to  doe.  The  barbarous  people  againe,  beleev- 
ing  litle  their  victorie  was  so  great  as  it  was,  fell  to  make 
good  cheere  for  so  great  a  joye  received,  and  devided  among 
them  the  spoyle  of  their  enemies  goods  they  found  in  the 
campe.  So  gave  they  time  and  leysure  by  this  meanes,  to 
the  multitude  of  people  that  fled  out  of  Rome,  to  seeke 
them  some  place  of  safety :  and  to  such  as  remained  still, 
they  left  good  hope  to  save  them  selves,  and  to  make  some 
provision  for  defence.  Thereupon  they  all  fortified  them 
selves  within  mount  Capitoll,  and  storing  it  with  all  kind  of 
342 


•  •?rir»rf»^»f»»'M'-»"*'^t'»» 


GRECIANS   AND    ROMANES 

vitaill,  armor,  and  munition,  they  wholy  dyd  forsake  the  FURIUS 
rest  of  the  cittie.  But  the  first  worke  they  tooke  in  hande  CAMILLUS 
was  this.  They  dyd  bring  into  their  sayed  forte,  parte  of 
their  sacred  relickes :  and  the  professed  Vestalls  brought 
thither  also  their  holy  fire  and  all  other  their  holy  monu-  The  holy  fier. 
ments.  Some  writers  saye,  that  they  had  nothing  els  in 
keeping,  but  the  sempiternall  fyer,  and  were  so  consecrated 
by  king  Numa,  who  dyd  first  institute,  that  the  fyer  should 
be  worshipped,  as  the  beginning  of  all  things.  For  that  it 
is  the  most  motive  and  quickest  substance  that  is  of  all  The  force  of 
naturall  things :  notwithstanding,  that  generation  also  is  a  ^Y^^- 
moving,  or  at  the  least  not  done  without  motion.  For  we  see, 
that  all  other  substance  which  lacketh  heate,  remaineth  idle, 
and  without  action,  and  sturreth  not,  no  more  then  doth  a 
dead  thing,  which  craveth  the  force  and  heate  of  fyre :  as 
the  soule  it  selfe  recovering  heate,  beginneth  somewhat  to 
move,  and  disposeth  it  selfe  to  doe,  and  suffer  some  thing. 
Wherefore  Numa  being  (as  they  saye)  a  man  of  great  learn- 
ing and  understanding,  who  for  his  wisedome  was  reported 
to  talke  many  times  with  the  Muses,  dyd  consecrate  the 
same  as  a  most  sacred  thing,  and  commaunded  that  they 
never  should  suffer  that  fyre  to  goe  out,  and  but  keepe  it, 
as  they  would  preserve  the  lively  image  of  the  etemall  God, 
the  only  King  and  maker  of  the  worlde.  Other  saye,  that 
the  fyer  bumed  continually  there  before  the  holy  and  sacred 
things,  signifying  a  kinde  and  manner  of  purification,  which 
opinion  the  Grecians  holde  also  :  howbeit  behinde  the  same 
fyer,  there  were  certen  hidden  things,  which  in  no  case  any 
might  see,  but  those  holy  Vestall  Nunnes.  Many  also  holde 
an  opinion,  that  the  Palladium  of  Troye  (as  much  to  say,  as 
Pallas  image)  is  hidden  also  there,  which  was  brought  by 
Mneas  into  Italic.  Other  doe  reporte  also,  that  Dardanus, 
at  that  time  when  he  first  beganne  to  buylde  the  cittie  of 
Troye,  brought  thither  the  holy  images  of  the  goddes  of 
Samothracia,  and  he  dyd  offer  them  up  there :  and  howe 
iEneas  after  the  cittie  was  taken,  dyd  steale  them  awaye, 
and  kept  them  untill  he  came  to  dwell  in  Italic.  Some 
other  also,  that  take  upon  them  to  knowe  more  therein  then 
the  common  sorte,  doe  holde  opinion,  that  there  are  two 

343 


FURIUS 
CAMILLUS 


Fabius  chief 
bishoppe  of 
Rome. 


Rome  taken 
of  the  Gaules. 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

pipes  not  very  great,  whereof  the  one  is  emptie  and  standeth 
open,  the  other  is  full  and  fast  locked  up,  howbeit  they  are 
not  to  be  seene  but  by  these  holy  Nunnes.  Other  thincke 
also,  that  these  imaginers  invented  that  they  spake  of  their 
owne  heads,  bicause  the  Vestall  Nunnes  dyd  cast  all  that 
they  could  put  in  at  that  time,  into  two  pipes,  which  they 
buried  after  in  the  grounde,  within  the  temple  of  Quirinus : 
and  herefore  that  very  place  carieth  the  surname  at  this 
daye  of  pipes.  Howbeit  they  caried  about  them  the  most 
precious  things  they  had,  and  fled  alongest  the  river.  Where 
one  Lucius  Albinus  (one  of  the  common  people)  flying  also, 
and  having  brought  away  his  wife  and  litle  chilclren,  and 
other  household  stuffe  he  had  in  a  carte,  by  chaunce  he 
lighted  upon  the  Vestall  Nunnes  in  the  waye.  But  so  sone 
as  he  perceyved  these  holy  Nunnes  (carving  the  blessed 
relickes  and  juells  in  their  armes,  dedicated  unto  the  service 
of  the  goddes)  all  alone,  and  that  they  were  wearie  with 
going  a  foote :  he  caused  his  wife  and  his  children  to  come 
out  of  the  carte,  and  tooke  downe  all  his  goodes  also,  and 
willed  them  to  get  them  up,  and  flye  into  some  cittie  or 
towne  of  Grece.  Thus,  me  thought  I  could  not  well  passe 
over  with  silence,  Albinus  reverence  and  devotion  he  shewed 
unto  the  goddes,  in  so  daungerous  a  time  and  pinche  of 
extremitie.  Furthermore  the  priests  of  other  goddes,  and 
the  most  honorablest  olde  men  of  the  cittie  of  Rome  (that 
had  bene  Consuls  before  time,  or  had  past  the  honour  of 
triumphe)  had  not  the  harte  to  forsake  Rome :  but  putting 
on  all  their  most  holy  robes  and  vestments  dyd  vowe,  and  as 
it  were  willingly  sacrificed  them  selves  unto  the  fortune  that 
should  befall  them,  for  the  safety  of  their  countrie.  And 
using  certain  words  and  prayers  which  their  high  bishoppe 
Fabius  had  taught  them,  they  went  even  thus  apparelled 
into  the  great  market  place,  and  dyd  sit  them  downe  there, 
in  chayers  of  ivory,  expecting  the  good  will  and  pleasure  of 
the  godds  what  should  become  of  them.  But  with  in  three 
dayes  after,  Brennus  came  to  Rome  with  his  army :  who 
finding  the  gates  of  the  cittie  all  open,  and  the  walles  with- 
out watche,  he  dowted  some  devise  in  it,  and  feared  some 
privie  ambush  had  bene  layed,  as  one  hardly  beleeving  to 
344 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

have  found  the  Romaines  of  so  base  a  mind,  as  to  forsake      FURIUS 
their  cittie.     After  being  enformed  of  the  troth,  he  entred    CAMILLUS 
into  Rome  by  the  gate  Collina,  and  tooke  the  same,  litle 
more  then  three  hundred  and  three  score  yeres  after  it  was 
first  builded :  if  it  be  true  at  the  least  there  hath  remained 
any  certen  chronicles  of  those  times  unto  this  present  daye, 
considering  the  trouble  and  confusion  of  that  time  hath 
made   many  things    more  uncerteine   then   that,   dowtefull 
unto  us.     But  so  it  was,  that  the  rumor  ranne  to  Grece 
incontinently  howe  Rome  was  taken,  but  yet  withall  som- 
what  doubtefully  and  uncertainely.    For  Heraclides  Ponticus 
(who  was  about  that  time)  sayeth  in  a  certen  booke  he  wrote 
of  the  soule,  that  there  was  newes  come  from  the  West  parte, 
that  an  armie  which  came  from  the  Hyperborians,  had  taken 
a  cittie  of  Grece  called  Rome,  situated  in  that  country  neere 
the  great  sea.     But  I  wonder  not  that  Heraclides  (who  hath 
written  so  many  other  fables  and  lyes)  dyd  amplifie  the  true 
newes  of  the  taking  of  Rome,  with  adding  to  of  his  owne 
devise,  of  the  Hyperborians,  and  by  the  great  sea.     It  is  a 
most  true  tale,  that  Aristotle  the  philosopher  had  certain  Aristotles 
knowledge  it  was  taken  by  the  Gaules :   howbeit  he  sayeth  testimonie  of 
also  it  was  recovered  againe  afterwards  by  one  called  Lucius  :  p  fj^^g  ^°^  * 
where  in  deede  it  was,  by  Marcus  Camillus,  and  not  by 
Lucius.     But  all  this  in  manner  is  spoken  by  conjecture. 
Moreover,  Brennus  being  entred  Rome,  dyd  appointe  parte 
of  his  souldiers  to  besiege  those  which  were  gotten    into 
mount  CapitoU.      And  he  with  the  residue  of  his  armie, 
marched   on   towards  the   market  place :    where  when    he 
saw  the  auncient  Senatours  set  so  gravely  in  their  chayers,  The  majestic 
and  spake  never  a  word,  nor  offered   once  to  rise,  though  of  the  olde 
they  saw  their  enemies  come  armed  towards  them,  neither  •   ^!t**^"^^  w 
chaunged  countenance,  nor  culler  at  all,  but  leaned  softely  on  pi^^g  ^f 
their  staves  they  had  in  their  hands,  seeming  to  be  nothing  Rome, 
affrayed  nor  abashed,  but  looked  one  upon  another,  he  mar- 
velously  wondred  at  it.     This  their  so  straunge  manner  at 
the  first  dyd  so  dampe  the  Gaules,  that  for  a  space  they 
stoode  still,  and  were  in  doubte  to  come  neere  to  touche 
them,  fearing  least  they  had  bene  some  goddes  :  untill  suche 
time,  as  one  of  them  went  boldely  unto  Marcus  Papyrius, 
2X  345 


FURIUS 
CAMILLUS 


The  cittie  of 
Rome  rased  by 
the  Gaules. 


The  citie  of 
Ardea. 


LIVES    OF   THE   NOBLE 

and  layed  his  hand  fayer  and  softely  upon  his  long  bearde. 
But  Papyrius  gave  him  such  a  rappe  on  his  pate  with  his 
staffe,  that  he  made  the  bloud  ronne  about  his  eares.  This 
barbarous  beaste  was  in  such  a  rage  with  the  blowe,  that  he 
drue  out  his  sworde,  and  slewe  him.  The  other  souldiers 
also  killed  all  the  rest  afterwardes :  and  so  the  Gaules  con- 
tinued many  dayes  spoyling  and  sacking  all  thinges  they 
founde  in  the  houses,  and  in  the  ende  dyd  set  them  all  a 
fyer,  and  destroyed  them  every  one,  for  despite  of  those 
that  kept  the  forte  of  the  Capitoll,  that  would  not  yeld 
upon  their  summons,  but  valliantly  repulsed  them  when 
they  scaled  the  walles.  For  this  cause  they  rased  the  whole 
cittie,  and  put  all  to  the  sworde  that  came  in  their  handes, 
young  and  olde,  man,  woman,  and  childe.  Nowe  this  siege 
continuing  long,  and  the  Romaines  holding  them  out  very 
stowtely,  vittells  beganne  to  growe  scante  in  the  campe  of 
the  Gaules,  in  so  much  as  they  were  driven  of  force  to  seeke 
it  abroade  without  the  cittie.  Hereupon  they  devided  them 
selves,  whereof  some  remained  still  with  the  King  at  the 
siege  of  the  Capitoll :  and  the  rest  went  a  forraging,  and 
spoyling  all  the  champion  countrie  and  villages  thereaboutes, 
scattered  as  it  were  by  bandes  and  companies,  some  here, 
some  there,  fearing  nothing,  nor  passing  upon  watch  or 
warde,  they  lived  in  suche  securitie  of  their  victorie.  How- 
beit  the  greatest  company  amongest  them,  went  by  fortune 
towardes  the  cittie  of  Ardea,  where  Camillus  dwelt,  living 
like  a  private  man,  medling  with  no  matters  of  state  from 
the  time  of  his  exile,  untill  that  present  time.  But  then  he 
beganne  not  to  bethinke  him  self  as  a  man  that  was  in  safety, 
and  might  have  escaped  the  handes  of  his  enemies,  but  rather 
sought  to  devise  and  finde  out  all  the  meanes  he  could  to 
subdewe  them  if  occasion  were  so  offered.  Whereupon,  con- 
sidering that  the  inhabitants  of  Ardea  were  enough  in  number 
to  set  upon  them,  although  faynte  harted,  and  cowardly,  by 
reason  of  the  slouth  and  negligence  of  their  govemours  and 
captaines,  who  had  no  manner  of  experience  in  the  warres  : 
he  beganne  to  cast  out  these  words  among  the  young  men. 
That  they  should  not  thinke  the  Romaines  misfortune  fell 
upon  them,  through  the  valliantnes  of  the  Gaules,  nor  that 
346 


•?r5rjfrft»T>T'T1»'f?»rjir»f||MJ 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

their  calamitie  (who  had  refused  good  counsaill)  had  hap-      FURIUS 
pened  unto  them  by  any  worke  or  acte  of  the  Gaules,  having    CAMILLUS 
done  nothing  for  their  parte  to  make  them  carie  awaye  the  Camillus 
victorie  :  but  that  they  should  thinke,  it  was  no  other  thing,  hordes  unto 
but   fortune   alone,    that  would   needes   shewe   her   power.  in^gxcusTof 
Therefore,   that   it   were    nowe   a    notable   and    honorable  theRomaiues, 
enterprise  (although  somewhat  daungerous)  to  drive  these 
straungers  and  barbarous  people  out  of  their  countrie  :  con- 
sidering that  the  only  ende  of  their  victorie  was,  but  to 
destroye  and  consume  as  fire,  all  that  fell  into  their  hands. 
Wherefore  if  they  would  but  only  take  a  good  lusty  harte 
and  corage  unto   them,  he  would  with    opportunitie,  and 
place,  assure  them  the  victorie,  without  any  daunger.     The 
young  men  were  pleased  with  these  words  of  life  and  com- 
forte.     Whereupon  Camillus  went  to  breake  the  matter  also  Camillus  per- 
unto  the  magistrates  and  counsellours :  and  having  drawen  suadeth  the 
them  by  persuasion  unto  this  enterprise,  he  armed  all  that  +ake^armes 
were  of  age  to  carie  armor,  and  would  not  suffer  a  man  to  against  the 
goe  out  of  the  cittie,  for  feare  least  the  enemies  (which  were  Gaules. 
not  farre  of)  should  have  intelligence  of  the  same.      Now 
after  the  Gaules  had  ronne  over  all  the  champion  countrie, 
and  were  loden  with  all  sorts  of  spoyles,  they  did  encampe 
them  selves  negligently  in  open  fields,  and  never  charged 
Avatch  nor  warde  :  but  having  their  full  cariage  of  wine  layed 
them  down  to  slepe,  and  made  no  noyse  at  all  in  their  campe. 
Camillus  being   advertised  therof  by  his  severall  skowtes, 
caused  the  Ardeans  with  as  little  noyse  as  might  be,  forth- 
with to  goe  out  into  the  fields :  and  having  marched  som- 
what  roundly  the  distance  betwene  the  cittie,  and  the  campe 
of  the  Gaules,  they  came  thither  much  about  midnight. 
Then  he  made  his  soldiers  make  great  showtes  and  cries, 
and  the  trumpets  to  be  sounded  on  every  side,  to  put  a  . 

feare  in  their  enemies,  who  yet  with  all  the  lowde  noyse  they 
made,  could  hardly  be  made  to  wake,  they  were  so  deadly 
dronke.  Yet  there  were  some  notwithstanding,  that  for  feare 
to  be  taken  tardy,  dyd  bustle  up  at  this  sodaine  noyse : 
and  coming  to  them  selves,  fell  to  their  weapons  to  resist 
Camillus,  which  were  slayne  by  and  by.  The  rest,  and  the 
greatest  number  of  them,  laye  here  and  there  scattered  in 

347 


FURIUS 
CAMILLUS 

Camillus  slue 
the  Gaules 
hard  by 
Ardea. 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

the  middest  of  the  field,  without  any  weapon,  dead  a  sleepe, 
starcke  droncke  with  wine,  and  were  put  to  the  sworde,  and 
never  strake  stroke.  Those  that  fled  out  of  the  campe  that 
night  (which  were  but  fewe  in  number)  were  overthrowen 
also  the  next  daye,  by  the  horse  men  which  followed  and 
killed  them,  as  they  tooke  them  straggling  here  and  there  in 
the  fieldes.  The  brute  of  this  victorie  was  blowen  abroade 
incontinently  through  all  the  townes  and  villages  there- 
abouts, which  caused  many  young  men  to  come  and  joyne 
them  selves  to  Camillus  :  but  specially  the  Romaines  desired 
the  same,  that  had  saved  them  selves  in  the  cittie  of  Veies, 
after  the  battell  lost  at  Allia,  who  made  their  mones 
amongest  them  selves  there,  saying :  O  goddes,  what  a  cap- 
taine  hath  fortune  taken  from  the  cittie  of  Rome  ?  What 
honour  hath  the  cittie  of  Ardea  by  the  valliantnes  and 
worthy  deedes  of  Camillus :  and  in  the  meane  season,  his 
naturall  cittie  that  brought  him  forth,  is  now  lost,  and 
utterly  destroyed  ?  We,  for  lacke  of  a  captaine  to  leade  us, 
are  shut  up  here  within  others  walles,  and  doe  nothing  but 
suffer  Italie  in  the  meane  space  to  goe  to  ruine,  and  utter 
destruction  before  our  eyes.  Why  then  doe  we  not  send  to 
the  Ardeans  for  our  captaine .''  or  why  doe  we  not  arme  our 
selves,  to  goe  unto  him  ?  For  he  is  nowe  no  more  a  banished 
man,  nor  we  poore  cittizens :  since  our  cittie  is  possessed 
with  the  forein  power,  of  our  hatefidl  enemies.  So  they  all 
agreed  to  this  counsaill,  and  sent  unto  Camillus  to  beseche 
him  to  be  their  captaine,  and  leade  them.  But  he  made 
aunswer,  he  would  in  no  case  consent  unto  it,  unles  they  that 
were  besieged  in  the  CapitoU  had  lawfully  first  confirmed  it 
by  their  voyces.  For  those  (sayed  he)  so  long  as  they 
remaine  within  the  cittie,  doe  represent  the  state  and  bodie 
thereof.  Therefore  if  they  commaunded  him  to  take  this 
charge  upon  him,  he  would  most  willingly  obey  them :  if 
otherwise  they  misliked  of  it,  that  then  he  would  not  medle 
against  their  good  willes  and  commaundement.  They  having 
receaved  this  aunswer,  there  was  not  a  Romaine  amongest 
them,  but  greatly  honored  and  extolled  the  wisedome  and 
justice  of  Camillus.  But  nowe  they  knewe  not  how  to  make 
them  privie  to  it,  that  were  besieged  in  the  Capitoll :  for  they 
348 


.•;'j'jf;vtj}r7:,tpjr,rjrfttin"n 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

sawe  no  possibilitie  to  convey  a  messenger  to  them :  con-      FURIUS 
sideling  the  enemies  were  lordes  of  the  cittie,  and  layed  seige    CAMILLUS 
to  it.     Howbeit  there  was  one  Pontius  Cominius  amongest  Pontius 
the  young  men  (a  man  of  a  meane  house,  but  yet  desirous  of  Cominius  got 
honour  and  glory)  that  offered  him  self  very  willingly  to  "P  \"*^^  the 
venter  to  get  in  if  he  could.     So  he  tooke  no  letters  to  cary  Ro^e* 
to  them  which  were  besieged,  for  feare  least  they  might  be 
intercepted,  and  so  they  should  discover  Camillus  intention  : 
but  putting  on   an  ill  favoured  gowne  upon  him,  he  con- 
veyed certen  peces  of  corcke  under  it,  and  traveling  at  none 
dayes   kept  on  his  waye  without  feare,  untill  he  came  to 
Rome,  bringing   darke  night  with  him.     And  bicause  he 
could  not  passe  over  the  bridge,  for  that  the  Barbarous 
people  kept  watche  upon  it :  he  wrapped  such  clothes  as  he 
had,  about  his  necke  (which  were  not  many,  nor  heavy)  and 
tooke  the  river,  and  swimming  with  these  corcks  he  had 
brought,  at  the  length  he  got  over  to  the  other  side  where 
the  cittie  stoode.     Then  taking   up    those   lanes   allwayes 
where  he  thought  the  enemies  were  not,  seeing  fire,  and 
hearing  noyse  in  other  places,  he  went  to  the  gate  Carmen- 
tale,  where  he  found  more  silence  then  in  other  places :  on 
the  which  side  also,  the  hill  of  the  Capitoll  was  more  stepe 
and  upright,  by  reason  of  the  great  rocks  that  were  harde  to 
clime  up  upon.    But  he  digged  and  crept  up  so  long  amongest 
them,  that  he  got  up  with  great  payn  unto  the  wall  of  the 
fortresse,  on  the  which  side  also  the  enemie  kept  no  watch : 
and  saluting  the  Avatche  of  the  Capitoll,  he  told  them  what 
he  was.     So  they  plucked  him  up  unto  them,  and  brought 
him  to  the  magistrates  that  ruled  then.     Who  caused  the 
Senate  to  assemble  presently,  unto  whom  he  told  the  ncwcs 
of  Camillus  victorie,  which  they  had  not  heard  of  before  : 
and  therewith  also  he  dyd  declare  unto  them,  the  determina- 
tion of  the  Romaine  souldiers  that  were  abroade,  which  was, 
to  make  Camillus  their  captaine  and  general,  and  did  per- 
suade them  also  to  graunt  him  the  charge,  for  that  he  was 
the  only  man  abroad  whom  the  cittizens  gave  their  consents  „ 
to  obey.     When  they  heard  this,  all  that  were  within  the  ch^en^icta- 
Capitoll,  consulted  thereupon  amongest  them  selves,  and  so  tor  the  second 
did  chuse  Camillus  Dictator,  and  returned  the  messenger  time. 

349 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 

FURIUS  Pontius  Cominius  backe  againe,  the  self  same  way  he  came  unto 
CAMILLUS  them.  His  fortune  in  returning  backe,  was  like  unto  his 
coming  thither :  for  the  enemies  never  sawe  him.  And  so  he 
brought  reporte  unto  them  that  were  abroad,  of  the  Senates 
decree  and  consent,  whereof  they  all  were  marvelous  glad. 
Thus  came  Camillus  to  take  this  charge  of  generall  upon 
him,  and  found  there  were  twenty  thousand  good  fighting 
men  abroade,  and  well  armed.  Then  got  he  further  ayde 
also  of  their  allies  and  confederates,  and  prepared  daylie  to 
goe  and  set  upon  the  enemies.  So  was  Camillus  chosen  nowe 
Dictator  the  seconde  time,  and  went  unto  the  cittie  of  Veies, 
where  he  spake  with  the  Romaine  souldiers  that  were  there, 
and  leavied  a  great  number  of  the  allies  besides,  to  goe  fight 
with  the  enemies  as  sone  as  he  could.  But  whilest  CamiUus 
was  thus  a  preparing,  certen  of  the  Barbarous  people  in 
Rome,  walking  out  by  chaunce  on  that  side  of  the  Capitoll 
where  Pontius  Cominius  had  gotten  up  the  night  before : 
spied  in  divers  places  the  printes  of  his  feete  and  hands,  as 
he  had  griped  and  gotten  holde,  still  digging  to  get  up,  and 
sawe  the  weedes  and  erbes  also  growing  upon  the  rocks,  and 
the  earth  in  like  manner,  flat  troden  down.  Whereupon 
they  went  presently  unto  the  King,  to  let  him  understande 
the  same :  who  forthwith  came  to  vewe  the  place.  And 
having  considered  it  well,  he  dyd  nothing  at  that  time  :  but 
when  darke  night  was  come,  he  called  a  companie  of  the 
lightest  Gaules  together,  and  that  used  most  to  digge  in 
mountaines,  and  sayed  unto  them  :  Our  enemies  them  selves 
doe  shew  us  the  waye  how  to  take  them,  which  we  could  not 
have  founde  out  but  by  them  selves.  For  they  having  gone 
up  before  us,  doe  geve  us  easely  to  understande,  it  is  no  im- 
possible thing  for  us  to  clime  up  also.  Wherefore,  we  were 
utterly  shamed,  having  already  begonne  well,  if  we  should 
fayle  also  to  end  well :  and  to  leave  this  place  as  unvincible. 
For  if  it  were  easie  for  one  man  alone,  by  digging  to  clime  up 
to  the  height  thereof:  much  lesse  is  it  harde  for  many  to  get  up 
one  after  another,  so  that  one  doe  helpe  another.  Therefore 
Syrs,  I  assure  you,  those  that  doe  take  paynes  to  get  up,  shalbe 
honorably  rewarded,  according  to  their  just  deserte.  When 
the  King  had  spoken  these  wordes  unto  the  Gaules,  they  fell 
350 


'•♦rr»r^«t»"»*'T1»'?f»*t»»'t 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

to  it  lustely  every  man  to  get  up  :  and  about  midnight,  they 
beganne  many  of  them  to  digge,  and  make  stepps  up  to  the 
rocke  one  after  another,  as  softly  as  could  possibly,  with 
catching  holde  the  best  they  could,  by  the  hanging  of  the 
rocke,  which  they  found  very  steepe,  but  nevertheles  easier 
to  clime,  then  they  tooke  it  at  the  beginning.  So  that  the 
formest  of  them  being  come  to  the  toppe  of  the  rocke,  were 
now  ready  to  take  the  walle,  and  to  set  upon  the  watche  that 
slept :  for  there  was  neither  man  nor  dogge  that  heard  them. 
It  chaunced  then  there  were  holy  gese  kept  in  the  temple  of 
luno,  which  at  other  times  were  wont  to  be  fed  till  their 
croppes  were  full :  but  vittells  being  very  straite,  and  scante 
at  that  time  even  to  finde  the  men,  the  poore  gese  were  so 
hard  handled,  and  so  litle  regarded,  that  they  were  in  manner 
starved  for  lacke  of  meate.  This  fowle  in  deede  naturally 
is  very  quicke  of  hearing,  and  so  is  she  also  very  fearefull 
by  nature  :  and  being  in  manner  famished  with  their  harde 
allowance,  they  were  so  much  the  more  waking,  and  easier 
to  be  afrayed.  Upon  this  occasion  therfore,  they  heard  the 
comming  of  the  Gaules,  and  also  beganne  to  ronne  up  and 
downe  and  crie  for  feare :  with  which  noyse  they  did  wake 
those  that  were  within  the  castell.  The  Gaules  being 
bewrayed  by  these  foolishe  gese,  left  their  stealing  upon 
them,  and  came  in  with  all  the  open  noyse  and  terrour  they 
could.  The  Romaines  hearing  this  larum,  every  man  tooke 
such  weapon  as  came  first  to  his  hand,  and  they  ranne 
sodainely  to  rescue  that  place  from  whence  they  understoode 
the  noyse :  among  those,  the  formest  man  of  all  was  Marcus 
Manlius,  a  man  that  had  bene  Consul,  who  had  a  lusty 
bodye,  and  as  stowte  a  harte.  His  happe  being  to  mete 
with  two  of  the  Gaules  together,  as  one  of  them  was  lifting 
up  his  axe  to  knocke  him  on  the  head,  he  prevented  him, 
and  strake  of  his  hand  with  his  sword,  and  clapt  his  target 
on  the  others  face  so  fiercely,  that  he  threwe  him  backward 
down  the  rocke  :  and  comming  afterwards  unto  the  walle 
with  others  that  ranne  thither  with  him,  he  repulsed  the 
rest  of  the  Gaules  that  were  gotten  up,  who  were  not  many 
in  number,  neither  did  any  great  acte.  Thus  the  Romaines 
having ?escaped  this  daunger,  the  next  morning  they  threw 

351 


FURIUS 
CAMILLUS 

The  Gaules 
clime  up  to 
the  Capitoll 
in  the  night. 


The  holy  gese 
saved  the 
Capitoll. 


Marcus  Man- 
lius repulsed 
the  Gaules 
from  the 
Capitoll. 


FURIUS 
CAMILLUS 


The  Gaules 
vexed  with 
the  plague 
at  Rome. 


LIVES   OF   THE    NOBLE 

the  captaine  hedlong  down  the  rocks  from  the  castell,  who 
had  charge  of  the  watche  the  night  before  :  and  gave  Man- 
ilas in  recompence  of  the  good  service  he  had  done,  a  more 
honorable  then  profitable  rewarde,  which  was  this.  Every 
man  of  them  gave  him  halfe  a  pound  of  the  country  wheate, 
which  they  call  Far^  and  the  fourth  parte  of  the  measure 
of  wine,  which  the  Grecians  call  Cotile  :  and  this  might  be 
about  a  quarte,  being  the  ordinary  allowance  of  every  man 
by  the  daye.  After  this  repulse,  the  Gaules  beganne  to  be 
discoraged,  partely  for  that  their  vitailles  fayled  them,  and 
durst  no  more  forage  abroade  in  the  fieldes  for  scare  of 
Camillus  :  and  partly  also  for  that  the  plague  came  amongest 
them,  being  lodged  amongest  heapes  of  dead  bodies,  lying 
in  every  place  above  ground  without  buriall,  and  amongest 
burnt  houses  destroyed,  where  the  ashes  being  blowen  very 
high  by  the  winde  and  vehemency  of  heate,  dyd  geve  a  drie 
persing  ayer,  that  dyd  marvelously  poyson  their  bodies  when 
they  came  to  drawe  in  the  breathe  of  it.  But  the  greatest 
cause  of  all  their  mischief  was,  the  chaunge  of  their  wonted 
dyet.  Who  comming  out  of  a  freshe  countrie,  where  there 
were  excellent  pleasaunt  places  to  retire  unto,  to  avoyde  the 
discommoditie  of  the  parching  heate  of  the  sommer,  were 
nowe  in  a  naughty  plaine  countrie  for  them  to  remaine  in, 
in  the  latter  season  of  the  yere.  All  these  things  together 
dyd  heape  diseases  upon  them,  besides  the  long  continu- 
aunce  of  the  siege  about  the  Capitoll  (for  it  w£is  then  about 
the  seventh  moneth)  by  reason  whereof  there  grewe  a  mar- 
velous death  in  their  campe,  through  the  great  numbers  of 
them  that  dyed  daylie,  and  laye  unburied.  But  notwith- 
standing all  the  death  and  trouble  of  the  Gaules,  the  poore 
besieged  Romaines  were  nothing  holpen  the  more,  the  famine 
still  dyd  growe  so  fast  upon  them.  And  bicause  they 
could  heare  nothing  of  Camillus,  they  were  growen  almost 
unto  a  despaire :  and  send  unto  him  they  could  not,  the 
Gaules  kept  so  straight  watche  upon  them  in  the  cittie. 
Whereupon  both  parties  finding  them  selves  in  harde  state, 
first  the  watche  of  either  side  beganne  to  cast  out  wordes 
of  peace  amongest  them  selves :  and  afterwards  by  consent 
of  the  heades,  Sulpitius,  Tribune  of  the  souldiers,  came  to 
352 


•f'»'?'fvrT»r7?,t}«jKr?rT?tinT"TT"?;mf»rtfM 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

parle  with  Brennus.     In  which  parle  it  was  articled  :  that      FURIUS 
the  Romaines  should   paye  a  thousand  pounde  weight  of   CAMILLUS 
golde,  and  that  the  Gaules  should  incontinently  after  the  The  Romaines 
receipt  of  the  same,  departe  out  of  their  cittie,  and  all  their  "'^'^*  about  to 
territories.     This  decree  being  passed  by  othe  from  both,  [fbertie'of  the 
the  golde  was  brought.     And  when  it  came  to  be  weyed,  Gaules  with 
the  Gaules  at  the  first  prively  beganne  to  deale  falsely  with  golde. 
them  :  but  afterwardes  they  openly  stayed  the  ballance,  and 
would  not  let  them  waye  no  more,  whereat  the  Romaines 
beganne  to  be  angrie  with  them.     Then  Brennus,  in  scome 
and  mockery,  to  despight  them  more,  pluckt  of  his  sworde, 
girdell  and  all,  and  put  it  into  the  ballance  where  the  gold 
was  wayed.     Sulpitius  seeing  that :  asked  him  what  he  ment 
by  it  .'*     Brennus  aunswered  him  :  What  canne  it  signifie  els, 
but  sorrowe  to  the  vanquished  ?    This  worde  ever  after  ranne 
as  a  common  proverbe  in  the  peoples  mouthes.     Some  of  the 
Romaines  tooke  this  vile  parte  of  theirs  in  such  scome,  that 
they  would  needes  take  the  gold  from  them  againe  by  force, 
and  so  returne  into  their  holde,  to  abide  the  siege  still,  as 
they  had  done  before.     Other  were  of  opinion  to  the  con- 
trary, and   thought  it  best  with  pacience  to  put  up  this 
scorne  of  theirs,  and  not  to  thincke  it  was  a  shame  to  paye 
more  then  they  had  promised  :  but  only  to  paye  it  by  com- 
pulsion as  they  dyd,  by  misfortune  of  time,  was  to  thincke 
it  rather  necessary,   then   honorable.      And   as   they   were 
debating  the  matter  thus,  aswell  amongest  them  selves,  as 
with  the  Gaules  :   Camillus  came  to  Rome  gates  with  his  Camillua 
armie,  and    understanding   all  what   had   passed  betweene  came  to  Rome 
them,  he  commaunded  the  rest  of  the  army  to  marche  fayer  ^'  *  »i'»'*iniy 
and  softely  after  him  in  good  order,  and  he  in  the  meane 
season  with  the  best  choyse  men  he  had,  went  before  with 
all  speede.     Assone  as  the  other  Romaines  within  the  cittie 
had  spied  him,  they  showted  out  for  joye,  and  receaved  him 
every  one  with  great  reverence,  without  any  more  wordes, 
as  their  soveraine  captaine  and  prince,  who  had  power  over 
them  all.     And  Camillus  taking  the  golde  out  of  the  skales, 
gave  it  unto  his  men,  and  commaunded  the  Gaules  presently 
to  take  up  their  skales,  and  to  get  them  going :  for,  sayeth 
he,  it  is  not  the  Romaines  manner  to  keepe  their  countrie 
2  Y  353 


FURIUS 
CAMILLUS 


Camillus 
speaketh 
stowtely  to 
Brennus  king 
of  the  Gaules. 


Camillus 
overthroweth 
the  armie  of 
the  Gaules. 


Rome  was  7 
moneths  in 
the  handes  of 
the  Gaules. 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

with  golde,  but  with  the  sworde.  Then  Brennus  beganne 
to  be  hotte,  and  tolde  him  it  was  not  honorably  done  of 
him,  to  breake  the  accorde  that  had  passed  betweene  them 
before  by  othe.  Whereunto  Camillus  stowtely  aunswered 
him  againe,  that  accorde  was  of  no  validitie.  For  he  being 
created  Dictator  before,  all  other  officers  and  magistrates 
whatsoever,  and  their  actes,  by  his  election  were  made  of  no 
authoritie  :  and  seeing  therefore  they  had  delte  with  men, 
that  had  no  power  of  them  selves  to  accorde  to  any  matter, 
they  were  to  speake  to  him,  if  they  required  ought.  For  he 
alone  had  absolute  authoritie  to  pardone  them  if  they 
repented,  and  would  aske  it :  or  els  to  punishe  them,  and 
make  their  bodies  aunswer  the  damages  and  losse  his  cuntry 
had  by  them  susteyned.  These  wordes  made  Brennus  madde 
as  a  march  hare,  that  out  went  his  blade.  Then  they  drew 
their  swordes  of  all  sides,  and  layed  lustely  one  at  an  other 
as  they  could,  within  the  houses,  and  in  open  streetes,  where 
they  could  set  no  battell  in  order.  But  Brennus  sodainely 
remembring  him  selfe  that  it  was  no  even  matche  for  him, 
retired  with  his  men  about  him  into  his  campe,  before  he 
had  lost  many  of  his  people.  The  next  night  following, 
he  departed  out  of  Rome  with  all  his  army,  and  went  to 
encampe  him  self  about  a  three  score  furlong  from  thence, 
in  the  highe  way  that  goeth  towards  the  cittie  of  the 
Gabians.  Camillus  with  his  whole  army  well  appointed, 
went  after  him  immediatly,  and  showed  at  his  campe  by  the 
breake  of  daye.  The  Romaines  having  taken  harte  againe 
unto  them,  dyd  lustely  geve  them  battell :  the  same  continued 
longe,  very  cruell  and  doubtefull,  untill  the  Gaules  at  the 
length  were  overthrowen,  and  their  campe  taken  with  great 
slaughter.  As  for  those  that  dyd  escape  the  furie  of  the 
battell,  they  were  killed,  some  by  the  Romaines  selves,  who 
hottely  followed  the  chase  after  the  battell  broken  :  the 
residue  of  them,  and  the  greatest  parte,  were  slaine  by  those 
of  the  citties  and  villages  neere  abouts,  that  dyd  set  upon 
them  as  they  fled  scatteringly  here  and  there  in  the  fields. 
And  thus  was  the  cittie  of  Rome  straungely  againe  recovered, 
that  was  before  straungely  wonne  and  lost,  after  it  had  con- 
tinued seven  moneths  in  the  handes  of  the  barbarous  people. 
354 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

For  they  entred  Rome  about  the  fiftenth  daye  of  lulye :  FURIUS 
and  they  were  driven  out  againe,  about  the  thirtenth  daye  of  CAMILLUS 
Februarye  following.  So  Camillus  triumphed  as  beseemed  Camillus 
him,  and  as  one  that  had  saved  and  delivered  his  countrie  triumphed  of 
out  of  the  handes  of  their  enemies,  and  set  Rome  againe  at  ®  *"  ®^' 
libertie.  Those  that  had  bene  abroade  all  the  time  of  this 
siege,  came  into  Rome  againe,  following  his  triumphing 
charret :  and  those  that  had  bene  besieged  within  the 
Capitoll  (looking  for  no  other  but  to  have  dyed  by  famin) 
went  and  presented  them  selves  before  him,  and  eche  one 
embraced  other,  in  weeping  wise  for  joye.  The  priestes  and 
ministers  of  the  temples  also,  presented  their  holy  juells,  whole 
and  undefaced,  which  some  of  them  had  buried  in  the  ground 
within  the  cittie  selfe :  and  others  some  had  caried  awaye 
with  them,  when  they  fled  out  of  Rome.  All  these  the  people 
dyd  as  gladly  see,  as  if  the  goddes  them  selves  had  returned 
home  againe  into  their  cittie.  After  they  had  sacrificed 
unto  the  goddes,  and  rendred  them  most  humble  thankes, 
and  had  purged  their  cittie,  as  they  had  bene  taught  by 
men  experienced  in  those  matters  for  satisfaction  of  the 
goddes  :  Camillus  beganne  againe  to  buylde  up  the  temples 
that  were  there  before,  harde  by  the  which  he  buylt  another 
newe  one  also  to  the  god  Aius  Locutius,  in  that  very  place 
where  Marcus  Ceditius  heard  the  voyce  warne  him  of  the 
coming  of  the  Gaules.  So  by  Camillus  good  diligence,  and 
the  priestes  great  paynes  and  travaill,  the  situations  of  these 
temples  were  with  muche  a  doe  founde  out  againe.  But 
when  they  were  to  buylde  againe  all  the  rest  of  the  cittie, 
that  was  wholy  burnt,  and  destroyed  to  the  grounde  :  the 
people  had  no  minde  to  it,  but  ever  shrinked  backe,  to  put 
any  hande  to  the  worcke,  for  that  they  lacked  all  thinges 
necessarie  to  beginne  the  same.  Furthermore,  waying  their 
late  and  long  susteined  trouble  and  miseries,  they  were  fitter 
to  take  their  ease  and  rest,  then  to  beginne  newe  labour  and 
toyle,  to  kill  their  hartes  and  bodies  altogether.  For,  neither 
were  their  bodies  able  to  performe  it,  nor  yet  their  goods 
to  reache  to  the  charge  of  it.  Wherefore  disposing  their 
mindes  to  dwell  in  the  cittie  of  Veies,  which  remained 
whole,  untouched,  and  furnished  of  all  thinges  to  receave 

355 


FURIUS 
CAMILLUS 

The  busie 
headed  Ora- 
tors stirre  the 
people  to  tu- 
multe  against 
Camillus. 


Camillus  Dic- 

tatorshippe 

proroged. 

Camillus  per- 
suaded the 
people  what 
he  could  to 
dwell  in 
Rome,  and  to 
leave  Veies. 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

them  :  they  delivered  to  the  pratling  Orators  (whose  tongues 
dyd  never  cease  to  speake  placentia  to  the  people)  trimme 
occasion  to  set  this  matter  abroache.  So  they  gave  good 
eare,  and  were  willing  to  heare  certen  seditious  wordes 
spoken  against  Camillus,  which  were  these.  That  for  his 
private  ambition  he  would  deprive  them  of  a  cittie  well 
furnished  already,  and  would  against  their  willes  compell 
them  to  lodge  in  their  owne  houses,  wholy  burnt  and  pulled 
downe.  And  moreover,  how  he  would  make  them  to  rayse  up 
againe  the  great  ruine  the  fire  had  made,  to  the  ende  the 
people  might  call  him,  not  only  captaine  and  generall  of 
the  Romaines,  but  the  founder  of  Rome  also,  and  so  drown 
Romulus  honorable  title  thereof.  The  Senate  considering 
of  this  matter,  and  fearing  some  tumulte  among  the  people : 
they  would  not  suffer  Camillus  to  leave  his  Dictator  shippe 
before  the  ende  of  the  yere,  notwithstanding  no  man  ever 
enjoyed  that  office  above  sixe  moneths.  Then  Camillus  for 
his  parte  dyd  much  endevour  him  selfe,  to  comforte  and 
appease  the  people,  praying  them  all  he  could  to  tarie  :  and 
further  pointed  with  his  finger  unto  the  graves  of  their 
auncesters,  and  put  them  in  minde  also  of  the  holy  places 
dedicated  to  the  goddes,  and  sanctified  by  king  Numa,  or 
by  Romulus,  or  by  other  Kings.  But  amongest  many  other 
tokens  drawen  out  of  holy  and  divine  things,  he  forgate  not 
to  bring  for  example,  the  heade  of  a  man  founde  newe 
and  freshe,  in  making  the  foundations  of  the  Capitoll,  as 
if  that  place  by  fatal  1  desteny  had  bene  once  chosen  to  be 
the  heade  and  chief  of  all  Italic.  And  moreover,  that  the 
holy  fyer  of  the  goddesse  Vesta  (which  sence  the  warres  had 
bene  kindled  againe  by  the  holy  Vestall  Nunnes)  would  againe 
come  to  be  put  out  by  them,  if  they  did  forsake  their 
naturall  cittie,  besides  the  great  shame  and  dishonour  it 
would  be  unto  them,  to  see  it  inhabited  in  time  to  come  by 
unknowne  straungers,  or  els  to  be  left  a  common  field  and 
pasture,  for  beastes  and  cattell  to  graze  in.  Such  sorowfull 
examples  and  griefes,  the  honest  naturall  borne  cittizens,  dyd 
ever  blowe  into  the  peoples  eares,  aswell  privately,  as  openly. 
The  people  againe  to  the  contrarie,  dyd  make  their  hartes 
to  yerne  for  pittie,  when  they  layed  before  their  eyes  their 
356 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

penurie,  and  povertie  they  sustained  :  and  besought  them  FURIUS 
also  not  to  enforce  them  to  gather  and  joyne  together  CAMILLDS 
againe  the  broken  peces  of  a  spoyled  cittie  (as  of  a  shippe- 
wracke  that  had  cast  them  naked  into  the  sea,  having  only 
saved  bare  life  and  persones)  sence  that  they  had  another 
cittie  neere  at  hande  and  ready  to  receave  them.  So  Ca- 
millus  counsell  was,  that  the  Senate  shovdd  consulte  upon 
this  matter,  and  deliver  their  absolute  opinion  herein  :  which 
was  done.  And  in  this  counsell,  he  him  self  brought  forth 
many  probable  reasons,  why  they  should  not  leave  in  any 
case,  the  place  of  their  naturall  birth  and  country :  and  so 
dyd  many  other  Senatours  in  like  case,  favoring  that  opinion. 
Last  of  all,  after  these  persuasions,  he  commaunded  Lucius 
Lucretius  (whose  manner  was  to  speake  first  in  such  as- 
semblies) that  he  should  stand  up  and  deliver  his  opinion, 
and  that  the  rest  also  in  order  as  they  sat,  should  saye  their 
mindes.  So  every  man  keeping  silence,  as  Lucretius  was 
ready  to  speake,  at  that  present  time  there  passed  by  their 
counsaill  house,  a  captaine  with  his  bande  that  warded  that 
daye,  who  spake  alowde  to  his  ensigne  bearer  that  went 
formest,  to  staye,  and  set  downe  his  ensigne  there :  for,  sayed 
he,  here  is  a  very  good  place  for  us  to  warde  in.  These 
wordes  being  heard  up  into  the  Senate  house,  even  as  they 
stoode  all  in  a  doubte  and  maze  what  would  be  the  resolu- 
tion of  this  matter  :  Lucretius  beganne  to  saye,  that  he  most 
humbly  thancked  the  goddes,  and  allowed  of  the  captaines 
judgment,  and  so  every  one  of  the  rest  in  their  order,  sayed 
as  much.  Moreover  there  was  a  wonderfull  chaunge  and 
alteration  of  minde  sodainely  among  the  common  people : 
for  every  man  dyd  persuade  and  encorage  his  fellowe  lively 
to  put  his  hand  to  this  worke.  Insomuch  as  tarying  for  no 
division  or  appointing  out  of  streetes,  nor  setting  out  every 
man  his  place  he  should  builde  in  :  they  fell  to  worke  of 
all  handes,  everie  one  chosing  that  place  he  liked  best,  and  Rome  is  built 
was  most  commodious  for  their  building,  without  any  other  againe. 
order  or  division  amongest  them.  Whereupon,  they  ronning 
to  this  building  on  a  head,  the  streetes  were  confused  on 
heapes  together,  and  their  houses  all  built  out  of  order  and 
vmiformitie.     For  the  reporte  goeth,  that  the  whole  cittie 

357 


FURIUS 
CAMILLUS 

Rome  was 
newe  built 
againe  in  a 
yere. 


Romulus 

augures  staffe 
founde  hole 
after  Rome 
was  burnt. 


Camillus 
chosen  Dicta- 
tor the  third 
time. 


LIVES    OF    THE    NOBLE 

(as  well  common  as  private  buildings)  was  built  up  new 
againe  in  a  yere.  But  the  surveyours,  to  whom  Camillus 
had  geven  charge  to  finde  out  all  the  holy  places  where  the 
temples  had  bene  overthrowen :  as  they  went  about  mount 
Pallatine,  they  came  by  chaunce  to  the  place,  where  the 
chappell  of  Mars  had  stoode,  which  the  Gaules  had  wholy 
burnt  and  destroyed,  as  they  had  done  all  the  rest.  They 
making  cleane  the  place,  and  surveying  every  corner,  dyd 
finde  by  chaunce  Romulus  augures  crooked  staffe  hidden 
under  a  great  mount  of  ashes.  This  staffe  is  crooked  at  one 
of  the  endes,  and  they  call  it  Lituus,  which  soothesayers 
doe  use  to  quarter  out  the  regions  of  the  element,  when  they 
will  beholde  the  flying  of  birdes  to  tell  of  things  to  come. 
Romulus  that  was  very  skillfull  in  this  arte,  dyd  use  this 
staffe :  and  after  he  was  taken  awaye  from  all  mens  sights, 
the  priests  tooke  it,  and  kept  it  as  a  holy  relicke,  suffering 
no  creature  to  laye  hands  on  it.  Nowe  they  founde  this 
staffe  whole  and  unbroken,  where  all  things  els  were  con- 
sumed and  perished  by  fire,  they  were  in  a  marvelous  joye 
thereat.  For  they  interpreted  this  to  be  a  signe,  of  the 
everlasting  continuaunce  of  the  cittie  of  Rome.  But  before 
they  could  make  an  ende  of  all  their  building,  there  grewe  a 
newe  warre  againe  upon  them.  For  at  one  very  instante,  all 
the  vEques,  the  Volsces,  and  the  Latines,  entred  with  all 
their  might  and  mayne  into  the  territories  of  the  Romaines. 
The  Thuscans  also  went  then  and  besieged  Sutrium,  that 
was  in  league  and  amitie  with  the  Romaines.  The  Trihuni 
militares  got  them  straight  to  the  field  with  their  armie,  and 
encamped  about  mount  Martian.  The  Latines  besieged 
them  so  straightely,  that  their  army  stoode  in  great  daunger 
to  be  overthrowen,  and  they  were  driven  to  sende  to  Rome 
for  a  newe  supplie.  Thereupon  the  Romaines  dyd  choose 
Camillus  Dictator  againe  the  third  time.  The  occasion  of 
this  warre  is  reported  two  manner  of  wayes :  whereof  I  will 
declare  the  first,  which  I  doe  conceyve  to  be  but  a  tale. 
They  saye  the  Latines  sent  unto  the  Romaines,  to  demaunde 
some  of  their  free  maydes  in  mariage  :  which  they  dyd  either 
to  make  a  quarell  of  warre,  or  els  as  desirous  in  deede,  to 
ioyne  both  the  peoples  againe  by  newe  manages.  The 
358 


•'♦f'M^mffnwJWTTTttnTTirT'rT'tftfrfjri 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

Romaines  were  amased  very  much  at  this,  and  sore  troubled,      FURIUS 
as  not  knowing  howe  to  aunswer  them,  they  were  so  affrayed    CAMILLUS 
of  warres.     For  they  were  scante  newe  setled  at  home,  and 
dreaded  much  lest  this  demaunde  of  their  daughters,  was  but 
a  summons  made  to  geve  them  hostages,  which  they  finely 
cloked  under  the  name  of  alliance  in  mariage.     Some  saye 
that  there  was  at  that  time  a  bonde  mayde  called  Tutola,  Tutola,  or 
or  as  some  saye,  Philotis,  that  went  unto  the  Senate,  and  ^^j^^^^^  ?f*^ 
counselled  them    they  should   sende  her   awaye    with  some  *°    ^"       '^" 
other  fayer  maydes  slaves,  dressed  up  like  gentlewomen,  and 
then    let  her  alone.      The  Senate  liked   very   well  of  this 
devise,   and  chose  such  a  number  of  bonde  maydes  as  she 
desired  to  have,  and  trimming  them   up  in  fine  apparell, 
begawded  with  chaines  of  golde  and  juells,  they  sent  them 
forth  to  the  Latines,  who  were  encamped  not  farre  from  the 
cittie.     When  night  was  come,  the  other  maydes  hyd  their 
enemies  swords.     But  this  Tutola,  or  Philotis  (call  her  as 
you  will)  dyd  clime  up  to  the  toppe  of  a  wilde  figge  tree, 
from  which  she  shewed  a  burning  torche  unto  the  Romaines, 
having  made  shifte  to  hange  somwhat  behinde  her,  to  keepe 
the  light  from   sight  of  the  enemies.     For  this  signal!  the 
Senate  of  Rome  had  secretly  appointed  her  to  set  up,  which 
was  the  cause  that  the  issuing  out  of  the  souldiers  being 
commaunded  to  goe  out  in  the  night,  was  full  of  trouble  and 
tumulte.     For  being  pressed  by  their  captaines,  they  called 
one  another,  and   there  was  great  a  doe  to  put  them  into 
order  of  battell.     Thus  they  went   to  take  their  enemies  Rome  de- 
sleeping,  who  nothing  mistrusting  the  same,  were  slaine  the  li^ered  from 
most  parte  of  them  within  their  campe.     This  was  done  ^^x""}^  J. 
on  the  fifte  day  of  the  moneth  called  Quintilis,  and  now  is  bondmavde, 
named  lulye  :  at  which  time  they  doe  yet  celebrate  a  certaine 
feast  in  reraembraunce  of  that  acte.     For  first  of  all,  going 
out  of  the  citie,  they  call  alowde  many  of  their  fellowes 
names   which   are   most   common :    as  Caius,    Marcus,  and 
Lucius,  showing  thereby  howe  one  of  them  called  another 
after  that  sorte,  as  they  went  in  great  haste  out  of  the  cittie. 
Afterwardes  all  the  mayde  servauntes  of  the  cittie  being 
trimmely  apparelled,  goe  playing  up  and  downe  the  towne, 
pleasauntly  j easting  with  those  they  mete :  and  in  the  ende 

359 


LIVES    OF   THE    NOBLE 


FURIUS 
CAMILLUS 

The  maydens 
feaste,  called 
Nonce  Capra- 
tiruB. 


they  make  as  though  they  fought  together,  in  token  that 
they  dyd  helpe  the  Romaines  at  that  time  to  destroye  the 
Latines.  Then  they  are  feasted,  sitting  under  bowers  made 
with  wilde  figge  tree  boughes :  and  this  feaste  daye  is  called, 
Nonce  Capratince,  by  reason  of  the  wilde  figge  tree  (as  some 
thincke)  from  the  toppe  whereof,  the  bonde  mayde  shewed  to 
the  Romaines  the  burning  torche.  For  the  Romaines  call 
the  wilde  i^gge  tree,  Caprificiis.  Other  saye,  that  all  these 
things  are  done  and  spoken,  in  remembrance  of  the  mis- 
chaunce  that  happened  unto  Romulus,  when  he  was  taken 
out  of  their  sight,  the  same  day  without  the  gats  of  the 
citty,  at  which  time  there  rose  a  sodain  miste  and  darke 
clowd.  Or  as  some  other  saye,  that  then  was  the  eclypse  of 
the  sunne :  and  they  holde  opinion  that  the  day  was  named 
Nonce  Capratince,  bicause  Capra  in  the  Romain  tongue,  sig- 
nifieth  a  goate.  Romulus  vanished  out  of  mens  sightes,  as 
he  was  making  an  oration  unto  his  people,  neere  unto  the 
place  which  is  called  goate  marshe,  as  we  have  mentioned 
more  at  large  in  his  life.  The  2  occasion  and  beginning  of 
this  warre  (according  to  the  opinion  of  most  writers)  was,  that 
Camillus  being  chosen  Dictator  the  third  time,  and  knowing 
that  the  Trih.  militares  with  their  army  were  straightly 
besieged  by  the  Latines,  and  Volsces :  he  was  inforced  to 
arme  all  the  olde  men,  who  for  very  age  were  priviledged 
from  further  service  in  warres.  And  having  fetched  a  great 
compasse  about  mount  Martian,  bicause  he  would  not  be 
scene  of  his  enemies,  he  came  to  lodge  his  campe  behind 
them,  where  he  raised  fiers,  to  make  the  Romaines  knowe 
that  were  besieged,  how  he  was  come :  which  as  sone  as 
they  perceived,  they  tooke  to  them  corage  again,  and  de- 
termined to  fight.  But  the  Latines  and  Volsces  kept  within 
their  campe,  and  dyd  entrenche  and  fortifie  them  selves  with 
a  wall  of  wodd,  which  they  layed  a  crosse,  bicause  they  saw 
they  were  beset  both  before  and  behind  :  and  determined  to 
tary  the  releefe  of  a  new  supply,  as  well  of  their  owne,  as  of 
some  further  ayde  besides  from  the  Thuscans,  which  thing 
Camillus  perceaving,  and  fearing  least  they  should  serve  him, 
as  he  had  already  handled  them  by  compassing  of  him  again 
behind :  he  thought  it  necessary  to  prevent  this.  So  eon- 
360 


•prtfTwm  fftitrwntni  w  Mr  r  ■  r?rf  f  >'»  «h< 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

sidering  the  inclosure  and  fortification  of  their  campe  was 
all  of  wodde,  and  that  every  morning  commonly,  there  came 
a  great  winde  from  the  side  of  the  mountaines,  he  made 
provision  of  a  number  of  fire  brandes.  And  leading  out 
his  armie  into  the  fields  by  brealce  of  day,  he  appointed 
one  parte  of  them  to  geve  charge  upon  the  enemies  on  the 
one  side,  with  great  noyse  and  showting :  and  he  with 
the  other  parte  determined  to  rayse  fier  on  the  contrary 
side,  from  whence  the  ^vinde  should  come,  looking  for 
oportunitie  to  doe  the  same.  When  he  sawe  the  sunne  up, 
and  the  winde  beginning  to  whistle,  blowing  a  good  gale 
from  the  side  of  the  hilles,  and  that  the  skirmishe  was 
begonne  on  the  other  side :  then  he  gave  a  signall  unto  the 
companie  he  led  with  him,  to  set  upon  the  enemies,  and  made 
them  throwe  into  the  inclosure  of  their  campe,  divers  potts 
and  dartes  with  fire,  so  that  the  flame  finding  matter  to 
catche  holde  of,  in  this  inclosure  of  wodde,  and  trees  layed 
overthwart,  dyd  raise  straight  an  exceding  great  flame  in 
the  ayer,  and  still  got  waye  inwards  into  the  Latines  campe. 
Whereupon  the  Latines  being  unprovided  of  present  remedy 
to  quenche  the  flame,  and  seeing  their  campe  a  fyre  all  about 
their  eares  :  they  gathered  them  selves  together  at  the  first  in 
a  very  small  roome.  Nevertheles,  they  were  inforced  m  the 
ende  to  get  them  into  the  field,  and  there  they  founde  their 
enemies  ready  armed,  and  in  battell  raye.  So  as  fewe  of 
those  escaped  that  came  into  the  field,  and  their  fellowes 
that  remained  within  their  campe,  were  burnt  to  death  with 
fyer,  mitill  the  Romaines  them  selves  came  to  quench  it  for 
greedines  of  their  spoyle  and  goodes.  When  all  this  was 
done,  Camillus  left  his  sonne  in  the  campe,  to  keepe  the 
prisoners  and  spoyles :  and  he  him  self,  with  the  rest  of  the 
armie,  went  to  invade  his  enemies  contrie,  where  he  tooke 
the  cittie  of  ^ques.  Then  after  he  had  overcome  the 
Volsces,  he  led  his  army  presently  from  thence  unto  the  cittie 
of  Sutrium.  For  he  had  not  yet  harde  of  their  misfortime. 
Therefore  he  hasted  him  self  to  ayde  them,  bicause  he 
thought  they  were  yet  besieged  by  the  Thuscans.  But  suche 
was  their  harde  fortune,  that  they  had  already  yelded  up 
their  cittie  by  composition,  and  saved  no  parte  of  their 
2Z  361 


FURIUS 
CAMILLUS 
Camillus 
strata^eame 
against  the 
Latines  and 
Volsces. 


Camillus  slue 
the  Latines. 


Camillus 
tooke  the 
citie  of 
^ques. 


LIVES    OF  THE    NOBLE 

FURIUS  goodes,  but  the  very  clothes  they  had  on  their  backs.  So 
CAMILLUS  being  turned  out  of  all  they  had,  they  met  Camillus  by  the 
waye  as  they  were  wandring  abroad,  lamenting  their  miserie, 
with  their  ^vives  and  litle  young  children :  whose  miserie 
went  to  the  very  harte  of  Camillus,  when  he  beheld  their 
lamentable  state.  Furthermore,  when  he  sawe  the  Romaines 
weepe  for  pittie  also,  to  see  the  mone  that  these  unfortunate 
people  made  unto  him,  and  that  it  greved  them  hartely  to 
beholde  their  great  mischaunce :  he  determined  with  him 
self  not  to  deferre  revenge,  but  presently  to  goe  the  selfe 
same  daye  before  the  cittie  of  Sutrium,  imagining  that  he 
should  finde  the  Thuscans  out  of  order,  without  keeping 
watch,  and  attending  nothing  but  making  good  cheere, 
bicause  they  had  newly  taken  a  wealthy  riche  cittie,  where 
they  had  left  never  an  enemy  in  the  same  to  hurte  them, 
neither  feared  any  abroad  to  come  neere  to  assaulte  them. 
And  in  deede  it  fell  out  rightly  as  he  gessed.  For  he  had 
not  only  passed  through  the  territories  of  the  cittie,  without 
any  intelligence  geven  to  the  enemies  within  the  same :  but  he 
was  come  to  the  very  gates,  and  had  taken  the  walles,  before 
they  hard  any  thing  of  his  coming,  by  reason  they  neither 
kept  watch  nor  warde,  but  were  dispersed  abroade  in  the  cittie, 
in  every  house,  eating  and  drincking  droncke  together.  In- 
somuch as  when  they  knew  their  enemies  were  already  within 
the  cittie,  they  were  so  full  fraight  with  meate  and  wine, 
that  the  most  of  their  wittes  served  them  not  so  much  as  to 
flye,  but  taried  untill  they  were  slaine  or  taken,  like  beastes 
in  the  houses.  Thus  was  the  cittie  of  Sutrium  t^vise  taken  in 
one  daye.  And  it  chamiced  that  those  which  had  wonne  it, 
lost  it :  and  those  which  had  lost  it,  recovered  it  againe  by 
Camillus  meanes.  "WTio  deserved  both  the  honour  and  entrie 
of  triumphe  into  Rome :  the  which  wanne  him  no  lesse  good 
will  and  glorie,  then  the  two  first  before  had  done  prayse, 
and  gotten  fame.  For  even  his  greatest  enemies  that  most 
spighted  and  envied  his  former  noble  actes,  ascribing  them 
rather  to  fortune  that  favored  him,  then  to  his  valliantnes  or 
worthines :  were  forced  nowe  by  this  deede  of  his  to  confesse, 
that  his  'svisedome  and  valliantnes  deserved  prayse  and  com- 
mendation to  the  skyes.  Camillus  of  all  his  enemies  had  one 
362 


Camillus 
wanne  the 
citie  of 
Sutrium. 


:?f*|MV'>'f»l*»W*JTf'flf»»l^'twnrr'*n*f>tfrtjf 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

most  bitter  to  him,  which  was  Marcus  Manlius,  that  was  the 
first  man  that  gave  the  Gaules  the  repulse  that  night  they 
had  entered  the  walles  of  the  Capitoll,  and  had  thought  to 
have  taken  it :  whereupon  they  gave  him  the  surname  of 
Capitolinus.  He  aspiring  to  be  the  chief  of  the  cittie,  and 
finding  no  direct  waye  to  exceede  the  glory  of  Camillus,  tookc 
the  broade  highe  waye  of  them  that  practise  tyrannic.  For 
he  beganne  to  flatter  the  common  people,  and  specially  those 
that  were  indebted :  he  tooke  upon  him  to  defende  their 
causes,  and  pleaded  their  case  at  the  barre  against  their 
creditours.  Sometimes  he  tooke  the  debters  out  of  the 
creditoiu's  handes  and  caried  them  awaye  by  force,  that  for 
lacke  of  abilitie  to  paye,  were  by  rigour  of  the  lawe  con- 
demned to  be  bonde  slaves.  But  by  this  practise,  in  shortc 
time  he  gotte  him  a  marvelous  number  of  suche  needie 
followers,  and  poore  men,  that  the  noble  men  and  honest 
cittizens  were  affray ed  of  the  insolent  partes  they  played,  and 
of  the  continuall  troubles  and  tumultes  they  daylie  stirred  up 
in  the  market  place.  Therefore  suspecting  the  worst  in  this 
case,  they  dyd  choose  Quintus  Capitolinus  Dictator :  who 
caused  the  sayed  Manlius  immediately  to  be  apprehended, 
and  committed  him  to  prison.  Whereupon  the  people  be- 
ganne to  chaunge  their  apparell :  which  they  were  never 
wont  to  doe,  but  in  great  and  common  calamities.  But  the 
Senate  fearing  least  some  commotion  would  vyse  hereupon, 
they  dyd  set  him  at  libertie  againc.  He  being  thus  out  of 
prison,  was  no  whit  the  better,  nor  wiser  thereby,  but  dyd 
still  stirre  up  the  commons,  more  boldely  and  seditiously, 
then  before.  Then  was  Camillus  chosen  againe  Trtbumis 
militarise  and  Manlius  was  accused  in  his  time  of  office.  But 
when  this  matter  came  to  pleading,  the  sight  of  the  Capitoll 
troubled  his  accusers  much.  For  the  very  place  it  selfc  where 
Manlius  had  repulsed  the  Gaules  by  night,  and  defended  the 
Capitoll,  was  easely  seenc  from  the  market  place,  where  the 
matter  was  a  hearing :  and  he  him  sclfe  pointing  with  his, 
hande,  shewed  the  place  unto  the  goddes,  and  weeping 
tenderly  he  layed  before  them  the  remembraunce  of  the 
hazarde  of  his  life,  in  fighting  for  their  safety.  This  dyd 
move  the  judges  hartes  to  pittic,  so  as  they  knew  not  what  to 

363 


FURIUS 
CAMILLUS 

Marcus  Man- 
lius Capito- 
linus moveth 
sedition. 


Flattery  and 
hypocrisie 
wiuneth  the 
multitude 
and  common 
people. 


Manlius  clapt 
in  prison  by 
Q.  Capitolinus 
Dictator. 


Camillus 
chosen  againe 
Tribunus 
mi/Hans. 


FURIUS 
CAMILLUS 


Marcus 
Manlius 
Capitolinus 
put  to  death. 


LIVES    OF    THE    NOBLE 

doe,  but  many  times  they  dyd  put  over  the  hearing  of  his 
case  unto  another  daye,  and  neither  would  they  geve  judge- 
ment, knowing  he  was  convicted  by  manifest  proofes  :  neither 
could  they  use  the  severitie  of  the  lawe  upon  him,  bicause 
the  place  of  his  so  notable  good  service  was  ever  still  before 
their  eyes.  Wherefore  Camillus  finding  the  cause  of  delaye 
of  justice,  dyd  make  the  place  of  judgement  to  be  removed 
without  the  cittie,  into  a  place  called  the  wodde  Petelian, 
from  whence  they  could  not  see  the  Capitoll.  And  there  the 
accusers  gave  apparent  evidence  against  him  :  and  the  j  udges 
considering  all  his  Avicked  practises,  conceaved  a  just  cause 
to  punishe  him,  as  he  had  deserved.  So  they  gave  sentence 
of  death  against  him :  that  he  should  be  caried  to  the 
mount  Capitoll,  and  there  to  be  throwen  downe  hedlonge 
the  rockes  thereof.  Thus,  one,  and  the  selfe  place  was  a 
memory  of  his  notable  good  service,  and  also  a  memoriall  of 
his  miserable  and  unfortunate  end.  Besides  all  this,  they 
rased  his  house,  and  built  in  the  same  place  a  temple  to  the 
goddesse  they  call  Moneta :  and  made  a  lawe  also,  that  no 
Patrician  from  thenceforth  should  dwell  any  more  in  the 
mount  Capitoll.  Camillus  after  this,  being  called  againe  to 
take  the  office  of  Tribunus  militaris  the  sixt  time :  he  sought 
to  excuse  him  selfe  aswell  for  that  he  sawe  he  was  well  stepte 
in  yeres,  as  also  for  that  he  feared  fortunes  spight,  or  some 
mishappe,  after  he  had  obteined  such  glorie  for  his  noble 
actes  and  service.  Howbeit  the  most  apparent  cause  of  his 
excuse,  was  his  sickenes,  which  troubled  him  much  at  that 
time.  But  the  people  would  allowe  no  excuse  by  any 
meanes,  but  cried  out,  they  dyd  not  desire  he  should  fight 
a  foote  nor  a  horse  backe,  but  that  he  should  only  geve 
counsaill,  and  commaunde :  and  therefore  they  compelled 
him  to  take  the  charge,  and  to  leade  the  armie  with  one  of 
his  companions  named  Lucius  Furius,  against  their  enemies 
the  Praenestines,  and  the  Volsces,  who  joyning  together,  dyd 
invade  the  confines  of  the  Romaines  friendes.  So  he  led  his 
army  out  immediately  to  the  field,  and  camped  as  neere  the 
enemy  as  he  could  :  being  minded  for  his  parte  to  drawe  the 
warres  out  in  length,  that  he  might  fight  afterAvards  (if 
neede  required)  when  he  had  recovered  strength.  But  Furius 
364 


•M?rwf?!m'mn'r»twm-T"fmj»fnrr»f 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

contrarilie  coveting  glorie,  was  whottely  bent  to  hazarde  the 

battell,  whatsoever  perill  came  of  it :    and  to  this  cnde  he 

sturred   up,  and  incoraged  the  captaines  of  everie  private 

bande.     Wherfore  Camillus  fearing  least  they  should  thinke, 

for  ill  will  he  bare  the  young  men,  that  he  went  about  to 

hinder  and  take  awaye  the  meanes  to  winne  their  honour, 

and  to  doe  some  noble  acte :  suffered  Furius  against  his  will 

to  put   his  men  in  order  of  battell,  and  he  in  the  meane 

season    by    reason   of   his   sicknes,    remained   ^vith   a   fewe 

about  him  in  the   campe.      So  went   Lucius  upon  a  head 

to  present  battell  to  the  enemie,  and  so  was  he  as  headilie 

also    overthrowen.      But   Camillus    hearing   the    Romaines 

were  overthrowen :  sicke  as  he  was  upon  his  bedde,  got  up, 

and  taking   his   householde    servantes  with    him,   he    went 

in  haste  to  the  gates  of  the  campe,  and  passed  through 

those  that  fled,  untill  he  came  to  mete  with  the  enemies 

that  had  them  in  chase.     The  Romaines  seeing  this  that 

were  already   entred   into   the  campe,   they   followed   him 

at  the  heeles  forthwith  :   and  those  that  fled  also  without, 

when  they  sawe  him,  they  gathered  together,  and  put  them 

selves   againe   in    arraye    before    him,   and    persuaded   one 

another  not  to  forsake  their  captaine.      So  their  enemies 

hereupon  stayed  their  chasing,  and  would  pursue  no  further 

that  daye.      But  the  next  morning,  Camillus  leading  his 

armie  into  the  fielde,  gave  them  battell,  and  wanne  the  field 

of  them  by  plaine  force :  and  following  the  victorie  harde, 

he  entred  amongest  them  that  fled  into  their  campe  pelmel, 

or  hand  overheade,  and  slue  the  most  parte  of  them  even 

there.      After   this    victorie,    he  was   advertised    howe   the 

Thuscans  had  taken  the  cittie  of  Sutrium,  and  had  put  to 

the  sworde  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  same,  which  were  the 

Romaines  cittizens.    Whereupon  he  sent  to  Rome  the  greatest 

parte  of  his  army,  and  keeping  with  him  the  lightest  and 

lustiest  men,  went  and  gave  assaulte  unto  the  Thuscans,  that 

nowe  were  harbored  in  the  cittie  of  Sutrium.     Which  when 

he  had  wonne  againe,  he  slue  parte  of  them,  and  the  other 

saved  them   selves  by  flight.      After  tliis,  he   returned  to 

Rome  with  an  exceeding  spoyle,  confirming  by  experience, 

the  wisedome  of  the  Romaines,  who  dyd  not  feare  the  age 

365 


FURIUS 
CAiMlLLUS 


Lucius  Furius 
gave  battell  to 
the  Praenes- 
tines  and 
Volsces,  and 
was  over- 
throwen. 


CamiUus 
wanne  the 
fielde  of  the 
Prseuestines 
and  Volsces. 


Camillus  slue 
the  Thuscans 
at  Sutrium. 


FURIUS 
CAMILLUS 


Camillus  sent 
again  against 
the  Thuscu- 
lanians. 


The  crafte  of 
the  Thuscu- 
lanians. 


Great  sedi- 
tion moved 
in  Rome  by 
Licinius 
Stole. 


LIVES   OF   THE   NOBLE 

nor  sicknes  of  a  good  captaine  that  was  experte  and  valliant : 
but  had  chosen  him  against  his  will,  though  he  was  both 
olde  and  sicke,  and  preferred  him  farre  before  the  younger 
and  lustier  that  made  sute  to  have  the  charge.  Newes  being 
brought  unto  the  Senate,  that  the  Thusculanians  were 
revolted,  they  sent  Camillus  thither  againe,  willing  him  of 
five  other  companions  to  take  out  one  he  liked  best,  every  of 
the  which  desired  to  be  chosen,  and  made  their  sute  unto 
him  for  the  same.  But  he  refusing  all  other,  dyd  chose 
againe  Lucius  Furius  beyounde  all  expectation  of  men,  see- 
ing not  long  before  he  needes  would  against  his  will  hazarde 
battell,  in  which  he  was  overthrowen.  Howbeit  Camillus, 
having  a  desire  (as  I  thincke)  to  hyde  his  faulte  and  shame 
he  had  receaved :  dyd  of  curtesie  preferre  him  before  all 
other.  Nowe  the  Thusculanians  hearing  of  Camillus  coming 
against  them,  subtilly  sought  to  culler  the  faulte  they  had 
already  committed.  Wherefore  they  put  out  a  great  number 
of  people  into  the  fields,  some  to  plowe,  other  to  keepe  the 
beastes,  as  if  they  had  bene  in  best  peace :  and  dyd  set  the 
gates  of  the  cittie  wide  open,  sent  their  children  openly  to 
schoole,  their  artificers  wrought  their  occupation  in  their 
shoppes,  the  men  of  haviour  and  honest  cittizens  walked  in 
the  market  place  in  their  long  gownes,  and  the  officers  and 
governours  of  the  cittie  went  up  and  downe  to  every  house, 
commaunding  them  to  prepare  lodgings  for  the  Romaines, 
as  if  they  had  stoode  in  no  feare  at  all,  and  as  though  they 
had  committed  no  faulte.  Howbeit  all  these  fine  fetches 
could  not  make  Camillus  beleeve,  but  that  they  had  an 
intent  to  rebell  against  the  Romaines :  yet  they  made 
Camillus  pittie  them,  seeing  they  repented  them  of  that 
they  had  determined  to  doe.  So  he  commaunded  them  to 
goe  to  Rome  to  the  Senate,  to  crave  pardone  of  their  faulte  : 
and  he  him  selfe  dyd  helpe  them,  not  only  to  purge  their 
cittie  of  any  intent  of  rebellion,  but  also  to  get  them  the 
priviledge  and  freedome  of  Rome.  And  these  be  the  chiefest 
acts  Camillus  dyd  in  the  sixt  time  of  his  tribuneshippe. 
After  this,  one  Licinius  Stolo  moved  great  sedition  in  the 
cittie,  betwene  the  common  people,  and  the  Senate.  For 
he  would  in  any  case  that  of  the  two  Consuls,  which  were 
366 


'"""'"""f*^' 


ffmwHrwwfm?Mwmwrrr 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

chosen  yerely,  the  one  of  them  should  be  a  commoner,  and  FURIUS 
not  that  both  of  them  should  be  of  the  auncient  noble  CAMILLUS 
families,  called  Patricians.  The  Tribunes  of  the  people 
were  chosen,  but  the  election  of  the  Consuls,  the  people 
stayed  :  so  that  the  common  wealth  went  to  decaye,  and 
declined  to  greater  troubles,  then  ever  it  dyd  before,  for 
lacke  of  government.  But  to  suppresse  this,  the  Senate 
created  Camillus  the  fourth  time  Dictator :  but  this  was  Camillus 
sore  against  his  will,  bicause  it  misliked  the  people  muclie.  created  Die- 
Furthermore,  he  would  not  complaine  of  the  people,  for  ^^^"'*  the 
that  they  having  served  under  him  in  many  warres  and  "  ""^* 
battells,  might  boldely,  and  truely  saye  unto  him :  that  he 
had  done  more  notable  acts  by  them  in  the  warres,  then  he 
had  done  by  the  Patricians  in  peace.  Yet  was  he  created 
Dictator  in  despight,  to  rule  the  people,  and  of  envie  in  the 
noble  men  towards  them.  Thus  necessitie  dyd  urge  him, 
either  by  force  to  suppresse  the  people,  if  he  were  the 
stronger  in  this  dissention  :  or  els  that  he  him  self  should 
be  suppressed,  if  he  became  the  weaker.  Camillus  notwith- 
standing, preparing  to  prevent  this  mischief,  and  knowing 
the  daye  the  Tribunes  had  determined,  to  preferre  the  pass- 
ing of  their  lawe  by  voyces  of  the  people :  he  gave  warning 
by  proclamations  set  upon  postes,  that  the  same  very  daye 
he  would  muster  the  people,  and  all  was  but  to  drawe  them 
from  the  market  place  into  the  field  of  Mars,  and  dyd  set 
great  penalties  upon  those  that  should  be  lacking  at  the 
musters,  and  would  presume  to  disobey.  The  Tribunes  of 
the  people  on  the  contrarie  parte,  dyd  withstande  his 
threates,  and  sware  they  would  condemne  Camillus  selfe  in 
fiftie  thousand  Drachmas  of  silver,  if  he  dyd  not  let  the 
people  alone,  but  would  goe  about  to  disturbe  them  for 
geving  their  voyces  to  such  lawe,  as  they  liked  of.  Camillus 
perceaving  this,  and  fearing  to  be  condemned,  and  banished 
once  againe,  which  would  fall  out  very  ill  for  him,  being 
nowe  an  olde  man,  and  one  that  had  done  so  many  great 
and  notable  actes,  or  els  for  that  he  thought  him  selfe  not 
strong  enough  to  withstande  the  force  of  the  people :  he 
kept  his  house  that  daye,  fayning  him  selfe  to  be  sicke,  and 
certaine  other  dayes  following,  and  in  the  ende  he  gave  up 

367 


LIVES    OF   THE   NOBLE 


FURIUS 
CAMILLUS 


Licinius  Stolo 
made  a  lawe 
for  enjoying 
of  landes. 


Stolo  the  first 
offender  of 
the  same  law. 


The  Gaules 
come  againe 
to  Rome. 


Camillus 
chosen  Dic- 
tator the  5 
time. 

Howe  Camillus 
appointed  his 
souldiers  with 
armour  and 
weapon  to 
fight  with 
advantage 
against  the 
Gaules. 


his  office.  Thereupon  the  Senate  chose  in  his  place  another 
Dictator,  who  named  the  same  Licinius  Stolo  general  of  the 
horse  men,  that  was  the  author  and  furtherer  of  all  this 
sedition :  and  besides  dyd  suffer  him  to  preferre  another 
lawe,  and  to  passe  it  by  voyces  of  the  people,  that  above  all 
other  lawes,  dyd  most  trouble  the  Patricians.  Which  lawe 
dyd  forbid  any  cittizen  of  Rome,  to  have,  or  occupie  above 
five  hundred  jugera,  which  amount  to  330  acres  and  a  halfe, 
12  pole,  and  121  partes  of  a  pole.  Then  was  this  Stolo 
alofte,  and  of  great  estimation  at  that  time  :  for  that  he  had 
in  despite  of  the  Senate  established  this  law.  Howbeit 
shortely  after  it  was  found  out,  that  him  self  had  more 
number  of  acres  then  his  owne  lawe  permitted.  By  reason 
whereof,  he  receaved  the  juste  punishment  of  his  owne 
devised  forfaiture.  Yet  the  most  weightie  matter  of  all 
this  dissention  that  beganne  first,  and  most  of  all  troubled 
the  Senate,  touching  the  election  of  the  Consuls,  remained 
still  undetermined.  But  while  these  matters  were  thus  in 
talke,  the  Romaines  had  certen  intelligence,  howe  the  Gaules 
were  departed  once  againe  from  the  Adriaticke  sea,  and  were 
coming  with  a  great  power  straight  unto  Rome :  upon 
reporte  of  which  newes,  the  warres  followed  immediately. 
For  the  Gaules  destroyed  the  champion  country  as  they 
went :  and  the  poore  country  men  that  could  not  recover 
Rome,  were  scattered  here  and  there  amongest  the  moun- 
taines.  The  feare  of  this  dyd  somewhat  appease  the  dis- 
sention. The  people  then  assembling  with  the  Senate,  and 
the  baser  sorte  with  the  noble,  dyd  all  with  one  voyce  and 
assent  chuse  Camillus  Dictator  the  fifte  time.  He  was  nowe 
a  very  olde  man,  lacking  litle  of  foure  score  yeres  :  but 
nevertheles,  considering  the  necessitie  and  present  daunger, 
without  framing  any  excuse,  or  starting  as  he  had  before,  he 
undertooke  the  charge.  Nowe  that  he  had  taken  it  upon 
him,  he  presently  levied  men,  and  prepared  his  army.  And 
knowing  very  well  howe  the  fiercenes  of  these  barbarous 
Gaules  consisted,  in  downe  right  blowes  with  their  swordes, 
with  which  they  would  strike  of  heades  and  shoulders  of 
men  at  a  blowe,  mangling  them  like  bouchers,  without  any 
cast  or  skyll  of  fight :  he  caused  iron  salletts,  and  morians  to 
368 


'fWWfffWft*wntmm 


■iniH.iiii.imii 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

be  made  for  the  most  of  his  men,  as  smoothely  wrought  on      FLTRIUS 
the  out  side  as  could  be,  that  their  swordes  lighting  on  them,    CAMILLUS 
should  either  slyde  of,  or  breake.    Moreover,  he  caused  their 
sheldes  to  have  barres  made  about  them  of  copper,  bicause 
the  wodde  selfe  was  not  able  to  abide  their  blowes.    Further- 
more, he  dyd  teache  his  souldiers  to  cary  long  javelines  or 
punchion  staves,  wherewith  they  might  wounde  their  enemies 
lifting  up  their  swordes  to  strike  them.     Nowe  when  the 
Gaules  were  come  neere  Rome,  having  pitched  their  campe 
upon  the  river  of  Anian,  and  being  full  loden  and  stuffed  Anies  fl, 
with  all  kindes  of  spoyle  and  booties  :  then  Camillus  brought 
his  armie  also  into  the  fielde,  and  went  to  lodge  on  a  litle 
hill  which  was  easie  to  get  upon,  where  there  were  many 
litle  caves,  so  that  the  most  of  his  army  was  all  hidden  and 
covered,  and  those  that  were  seene,  seemed  to  be  retired  * 

thither  into  those  highe  places  for  an  advantage,  and  of 
feare.  Camillus  to  increase  this  opinion  more  in  his  enemies, 
and  to  make  them  the  bolder :  dyd  suffer  them  to  come  and 
spoyle  even  to  the  foote  of  the  hill  where  he  was  lodged, 
and  stirred  not  once  out  to  trouble  them,  but  kept  him  selfe 
quiet  in  his  campe  and  well  fortified.  Untill  such  time  as 
he  spyed  occasion  of  advantage,  that  the  best  parte  of  their 
army  were  scattered  here  and  there,  a  forraging  all  about 
the  fieldes :  and  those  which  remained  in  their  campe,  fell  to 
eating  and  drincking,  as  they  used  carelesly  at  all  howres. 
Then  Camillus  sent  very  early  before  daye,  his  lightest 
armed  men,  to  vexe  and  trouble  the  barbarous  people  in 
coming  out  of  their  campe,  and  to  let  them  in  any  case  from 
putting  their  men  in  order  of  battell :  and  he  at  the  breake 
of  daye,  came  downe  into  the  plaine,  and  dyd  set  his  other 
men  being  well  armed,  in  good  array e,  which  were  a  great 
number,  and  lustie  fellowes,  and  were  not  as  the  barbarous 
people  thought,  fewe,  and  fearefuU.  This  at  the  very  first 
discoraged  the  hartes  of  the  Gaules  marvelously,  bicause 
they  thought  them  selves  dishonored,  that  the  Romaines 
should  charge  upon  them  first.  Afterwardes  also  Camillus 
vantgarde  dyd  set  upon  the  Gaules,  and  that  on  a  sodaine, 
before  they  had  leysure  to  put  them  selves  in  battell,  or  to 
order  their  troupes  :  compelling  them  to  fight  without  order, 
3  A  369 


FURIUS 
CAMILLUS 


Camillus  slue 
the  Gaules 
againe. 


TheRomaines 
howe  they 
exempted 
priestes  from 
the  warres. 


LIVES    OF   THE   NOBLE 

as  they  met  out  of  order  by  chaunce.  In  the  ende  also, 
Camillus  came  upon  the  neckes  of  them,  with  all  his  whole 
force,  and  army  together  :  against  whom  they  ranne  not- 
withstanding, holding  up  their  naked  swordes  alofte  in  their 
handes.  But  the  Romaines  thrusting  with  their  armed 
javelinges,  receaved  their  enemies  blowes  upon  them,  and 
thereby  so  rebated  the  edges  of  their  swordes  (their  blades 
being  very  sharpe  and  thinne  grounde,  and  of  so  softe  a 
temper)  that  they  bowed  againe,  and  stoode  crooked  un- 
reasonably :  and  furthermore,  having  persed  their  shieldes 
through  with  their  punchingstaves,  the  Gaules  armes  were  so 
clogd  and  wearied  with  them,  the  Romaines  plucking  them 
backe  to  them  againe,  that  they  threw  away  their  swordes 
and  shieldes,  and  flying  in,  closed  with  the  Romaines,  and 
caught  holde  of  their  javelines,  thincking  by  plaine  force  to 
have  wrested  them  out  of  their  handes.  Howbeit  they  per- 
ceaving  then  the  Gaules  were  naked,  fell  straight  to  their 
swordes :  and  so  was  the  slaughter  of  their  first  ranckes 
very  great.  The  other  fled  scatteringly  here  and  there,  all 
about  the  plaine  :  bicause  Camillus  had  caused  all  the  hilles 
and  mountaines  about  them  to  be  occupied  and  possessed. 
Neither  dyd  they  retire  towardes  their  campe,  for  that  it 
was  unfortified,  and  also  knewe  well  enough  it  would  be 
easely  taken.  This  battell  (as  they  saye)  was  thirteene  yeres 
after  their  taking  of  Rome  before.  But  after  that  fielde, 
the  Romaines  corages  were  good  enough  against  these  bar- 
barous Gaules,  whom  they  stoode  in  feare  of  before :  thinck- 
ing the  first  time  they  came,  that  they  had  not  overcomed 
them  by  force,  but  by  reason  of  the  plague  that  fell  amongest 
them,  or  through  some  other  straunge  chaunce.  For  they 
dyd  so  feare  them  at  that  time,  that  they  made  a  lawe,  howe 
their  priestes  should  be  exempted  from  warres,  so  it  were 
not  against  the  Gaules.  This  overthrowe  was  the  last  mar- 
shall  acte  Camillus  dyd  in  the  warres.  For,  the  taking  of 
the  cittie  of  Velitres,  was  an  accident  depending  upon  this 
jorney :  bicause  they  yelded  straight  unto  him,  without 
striking  any  stroke.  But  the  seditiousnes  of  the  people  of 
Rome  about  government,  and  the  choosing  of  the  yere 
Consuls,  was  the  hardest  matter  he  ever  had  in  hande.  For 
370 


Hf^?f<HffJfWf»WWff?!m*wnn*tn' 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

they  returning  home  to  Rome  stronge,  and  of  greate  power, 
by  their  late  obteined  victorie :  woulde  in  any  case  have  one 
of  the  Consuls  to  be  chosen  of  a  commoner,  which  was 
directly  against  their  auncient  custome.  But  the  Senate 
stowtely  withstoode  it,  and  would  not  suffer  Camillus  to  be 
put  out  of  office :  hoping  the  better  by  meanes  of  his  autho- 
ritie,  which  was  greate  then,  that  they  should  mainteine  and 
continue  their  auncient  dignitie,  and  prerogative  of  their 
nobilitie.  But  as  Camillus  was  set  in  his  chayer  in  the 
market  place,  where  he  hearde  and  dispatched  causes  :  there 
came  a  sergeante  to  him,  sent  from  the  Tribunes  of  the 
people,  who  commaunded  him  to  followe  him,  and  there 
withall  layed  violent  handes  upon  him,  as  he  woulde  have 
caried  him  awaye  by  force.  This  made  suche  a  terrible 
tumulte  and  uprore,  that  the  like  was  never  seene  before  in 
the  market  place.  For  Camillus  friendes  drave  the  sergeaunte 
backe  behinde  the  chayer.  The  common  people  cried  out 
againe  to  the  sergeant  from  beneath :  Pull  him  out  of  his 
chayer.  This  so  amazed  Camillus,  that  he  knew  not  well 
what  to  saye  to  the  matter.  Notwithstanding,  he  would 
not  resigne  up  his  office,  but  taking  those  Senatours  he  had 
about  him,  he  went  unto  the  place  where  the  Senate  was 
wont  to  be  kept.  And  there,  before  he  would  goe  into  it, 
he  returned  backe  againe  unto  the  CapitoU,  and  made  his 
prayer  unto  the  goddes,  that  it  would  please  them  to  bring 
his  troubles  againe  to  a  quiet,  and  so  made  a  solemne  vowe 
and  promise  (if  these  tumultes  and  troubles  might  be  pacified) 
that  he  woulde  builde  a  temple  of  Concorde.  When  this 
matter  came  to  debating  before  the  Senate,  there  fell  great 
contention  and  diversitie  of  opinions  among  them :  yet  in 
the  ende,  the  easiest  waye  dyd  carie  it,  and  that  was  to 
graunt  the  common  peoples  desire,  that  a  commoner  should 
be  chosen  Consul  with  a  noble  man.  The  Dictator  having 
openly  published  to  the  people  the  Senates  decree,  confirm- 
ing their  desire:  the  common  people  were  so  joyfull,  that 
at  that  presente  they  let  fall  all  their  malice  against  the 
Nobilitie  and  Senate,  and  brought  Camillus  home  to  his 
house,  with  greate  showtes  of  joye,  and  clapping  of  handes. 
The  next  morning  all  the  people  being  assembled  together 

371 


FURIUS 
CAMILLU 


Sedition  at 
Rome  about 
choosing  of 
Consuls. 


Policy  to  ye 
to  necessiti( 
A  commone 
chosen  Cons 
with  a  nobL 
man. 


FURIUS 
CAMILLUS 


Marcus  ^mi- 
lius^  Lucius 
Sextus  Con- 
suls. 


Camillus  died 
of  the  plague. 


GRECIANS    AND    ROMANES 

in  the  market  place,  it  was  there  decreed :  that  the  temple 
of  Concorde  should  be  built  at  the  common  wealthes  charge 
(according  to  the  vowe  Camillus  had  made)  in  such  a  place, 
as  it  might  be  scene  from  the  market  place  selfe,  where  all 
the  assemblies  for  matters  of  counsel!  were  made.  And 
further,  it  was  ordered  that  one  daye  more  should  be  added 
to  the  feastes  of  the  Latines :  and  that  from  thenceforth 
they  should  solemnise  foure  festivall  dayes,  and  should  pre- 
sently make  generall  sacrifices  unto  the  goddes,  in  everie 
temple  of  the  cittie,  to  geve  them  thanckes  :  and  in  token  of 
joye,  they  should  all  weare  garlands  upon  their  heades  for 
this  reconciliation.  So  Camillus  proceeding  to  election, 
there  were  chosen  two  Consuls,  Marcus  ^Emilius  of  the 
noble  Patricians,  and  Lucius  Sextus  of  the  Plebeians  or 
commoners.  And  this  was  the  laste  acte  that  ever  Ca- 
millus dyd.  For,  the  next  yere  after,  the  plague  was  in 
Rome,  and  tooke  awaye  an  infinite  number  of  people 
that  dyed,  besides  many  magistrates  and  officers  of  the 
cittie  that  departed :  among  whom,  Camillus  also  left 
his  life.  Who  notwithstanding  he  had  lived  a  long  time, 
and  had  ended  a  reasonable  course  of  life :  yet  he  was  as 
ready  to  dye,  and  as  paciently  tooke  his  death,  as  any  man 
living  could  have  done.  Moreover,  the  Romaines  made 
more  mone  and  lamentation  for  his  deathe  alone,  then 
for  all  the  rest  the  plague  had  already  consumed. 

THE  ENDE  OF  FURIUS  CAMILLUS  LIFE 


ti 


372 


IHf  ffHitfHmf J?m?rpmr?f  fnm?Wfmmm»nrr  jmtttrfrht 


^ 


EDINBURGH 

T.   &*  A.   CONSTABLE 

Printers  to  Her  Majesty 

1895 


i:u^^iiL 


'm^li»mf^i*f^iim*m^vm^m\wtftmmut 


:vH'f*fffff?ffff^Mff^f*»ff^'rf*f?^^^ 


J  ??i'nn!! 


-?w^?»?f?fHfffH?^?*??f^ 


•1  «i  lj*t/ 


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