{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_16246/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_16246","id":"gutenberg_16246","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/16246","summary":null,"tags":["Category: History - Early Modern (c. 1450-1750)","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Plays/Films/Dramas","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Dialogues, Latin (Medieval and modern) -- Translations into English","Imaginary conversations"],"text":"Produced by David Starner, Louise Hope and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net.\n\n\n\n\n\n[Transcriber's note:\n\nThe printed text marks the first few leaves of each 16-page\nsignature: ||A.i.||, ||A.ii.||... Other page breaks are marked in\nthis e-text with double lines ||\n\nA few apparent typographic errors were corrected and are listed at\nthe end of the text. Other irregularities are noted but were left\nunchanged. All other spelling, capitalization and punctuation are\nas in the original.]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n           *       *       *       *\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\n                     A VE-\n                ry pleasaunt &\n                fruitful Dio-\n               loge called the\n                  *Epicure*,\n               made by that fa-\n               mous clerke Eras\n                mus of Rotero-\n                  dame, newly\n                  translated.\n                     1545.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n          _S. Paule to the Ephesians_\n\n        You that haue professed Christ,\n     suffre not your selues to be deceyued\n        vvith false doctrine, nor vaine\n        and noughtie talkyng, but herken\n          vnto all Godly thynges, and\n          especially too the doctryne\n                of the Gospell.\n\n\n||A.ii.||\n\n                  THE HABOVN-\n         daunt mercie and grace of our\n          heauenly father Iesu Christ,\n            maye alwaies strengthen\n            and defende oure noble\n             & vertuous Prynce Ed-\n              ward too the mainte-\n              naunce of the liue-\n                  ly woord of\n                      God.\n\n\nWhereas manye histories of olde & auncient antiquitie,\nand also al godly & Christia writers most playnely conset\ntogether, and agree in this, that dignitie, riches, kinred,\nworldly pompe, and renoume, doo neither make men better, ne\nyet happiar, contrarie too the blynde & fonde iudgement of\nthe most part of menne: but by the power and strength of the\nmynde, that is, learnyng, wysedome, || and vertue, all menne\nare hyghly enriched, ornated, & most purely beutified, for\nthese bee thinges bothe notable, eternall, and verye\nfamiliar betwene the heauenly father & vs. It is therefore\neuidente (most excellent Prince) that the fittest ornametes\nfor your graces tender age, bee, eruditio and vertue.\nWherunto you are bothe so ernestly addicte and therin so\nwoderfully doo preuaile, that I nede not too exhorte &\nexstimulate your grace vnto the study thereof. For that God\nhim self hath wrought, and fourmed your mynde so apt and\ndesirous too attayne and diligetly too seeke for al godly\ndoctrine, that eue now you doo shewe in all youre saiynges\nand dooinges suche a wonderfull pleasautes much lyke vnto\na certayne swete musike or harmonie, that any honest hart\nexceadinglye woulde reioyce in the sight therof. Verely,\nyour grace thinketh plainly all time lost, that is not\nbestowed vpon learnyng, which is a verie rare thyng in anye\nchilde, and rarest of all in a Prince. Thus youre noblenes,\nrather desireth vertue and ||A.iii.|| learning the most\nsurest and excellent treasures, which farre surmounte all\nworldly ryches, then anye vanities or trifles. Nowe youre\ngrace prepareth for the holsome and pleasaunt foode of\nthe mynde. Now you seke for that whiche you shal fynd\nmost surest helper and faythfulst councellour in all your\naffaires. Now your magnificet mynde studieth that, whiche\nall Englyshe menne with meke and humile heartes shuld desire\nGOD to endue your grace with all. Now with diligent labour\nyou searche for a thyng, as one most myndeful of this\nsaiyng: Happy is that realme that hath a lerned Prince. Nowe\nyou trauaile for that, whiche conquereth, and kepeth doune\nall greuous tourmentes & outragious affections of the mynde,\ntoo the furderaunce of good liuyng, and maintenauce of\nvertue, I meane holsome erudition and learnyng. Many\nHeathen Princes forsoth, are highly magnified with most\nample prayses, which gaue them selues too the study of\nPhilosophie, or knowledge of tongues, for their owne\ncommoditie, and || especially for the weale of their\nsubiectes. Who is nowe more celebrated and worthelier\nextolled then Mithridates? that noble kyng of Pont and\nBithinia, which, (as Aulus Gellius writeth) vnderstoode so\nperfitly the languages of .xxii. sondrye countries that were\nvnder his dominio, that he neuer vsed any interpretour too\nanswer his subiectes, but spake their laguages so finelye,\nas thoughe he had been of the same coutrie. Ageyn, that\nhonorable manne Quintus Ennius saied: that he had .iii.\nheartes, because he coulde speake Greke, Italian, and Latin.\nYea, and breuely, the most famaus writers, as well the\nHeathen, as the Christien, with an vniuersall consent,\nplaynly affirme: Whan thei had weied the nature and condicio\nof the purest thinges vnder heauen, thei sawe nothyng faire,\nor of any pryce, or that ought too be accopted ours, but\nonely vertue and learning. Euen now too acknowledge that\nsame, it is yeoue you from aboue, for your grace delecteth\nin nothyng more then too bee occupied in the holye Byble:\nwherin, ||A.iiii.|| you beginne too sauer & smelle furth\nthe treasure of wisedome, knowledge and fulnes of the deuyne\npower, that is a studie most conuenient for euery Christien\nPrince, that kynd of studye cannot haue sufficient laude\nand commendation. Whose Princely heart forsoth, is raueshed\non suche a godlie and vertuous studie, it can neuer haue\ncondigne and worthie praises, but deserueth alwaies too bee\nhad in great price, estimation, and honour. Who dooeth not\nknow? that Prince which is yeouen vnto the scriptures of God\nand with a stoute stomake and valiat heart, both searcheth\nfurth and also defendeth ye true doctrine of the Gospell,\ntoo bee inrolled in the assemble of Christ. Who dooeth not\nsee? that Prince too bee moost surelye armed, which carieth\nin his heart the swerd of ye spirit, which is the blessed\nwoord of God. Who is ignoraunt? that euer lastyng lyfe\nconsisteth in the knoweledge of God. What Prince woulde not\nstudie to maintaine that, which is written for the health,\nand saluation of all menne weiyuge with himselfe || that a\nPrince can not deserue, neither by conquest, ciuel policie,\nnor yet by anye other meane vnder heauen, thys name high or\nhonorable, so wourthely as by the setting forward of Goddes\nwoorde. What young Prince humily defendyng doune intoo him\nselfe and callyng to memory his bounden dutie woulde not\nwith a glad hearte and a chearfull mynde, gredelye desyre\ntoo knowe, enlarge, and amplifie the glory and maiestie\nof hys derely beloued father? Your grace (forsoth) hath\nprofessed God too bee your father: Blessed are you then if\nyou obey vnto hys word, and walke in his waies. Blessed are\nyou, yf you supporte suche as preache the Gospell. Blessed\nare you, yf your mind bee full furnished with the testament\nof Christ, and shew your selfe too bee the most cruel\ntoo and enemy agaynst ypocrisie, supersticion, and all\npapistical phantasies, wherwith the true religion of God\nhathe been dusked and defaced these many yeres Blessed are\nyou, if you reade it daye & nighte, that your grace maye\nknowe what GOD dooeth forbyd you, and ||A.v.|| euer submit\nyour selfe therunto with seruiceable lowlines chiefly\ndesiring to florysh and decke your mynd with godly\nknowledge. And most blessed are you, if you apply your\nself vnto al good workes, & plant surely in your heart the\nscriptures of Christ, If you thus doo, nether the power of\nany papistical realme, nor yet of hel can preuaile at any\ntime against your grace. Nowe therfore, with humile hearte,\nfaithfully receiue the swete promises of the Gospel. If\nyou kepe the woordes of the Lorde and cleaue fast vnto\nthem: there is promised you the kingdome of heauen: You\nare promised a weale publick most riche and welthy You are\npromised too bee deliuered from the deceiptes of all youre\npriuie enemyes. You are promised also, too conquere great\nand mightie nations. Agayne, let your grace bee most fully\nperswaded in this, that ther was neuer Kyng nor Prince, that\nprospered whiche tooke parte against Goddes woord, and that\nthe greatest abhomination that can bee, either for Kyng,\nPrince, or any other manne, is too || forsake the true woord\nof God. O with howe rebukefull woordes & greuous iudgement\nthei be condemned, which dispice & set lytle by the holy\nByble & most blessed Testamet of God, wherin there is\ncontained all the wil & pleasure of our heauely father\ntoward vs most miserable & ignoraunt wretches Who would not\nquake, too beholde the terrible feares & threatenynges of\nGod ageinst al suche? Who would not lament & gladly helppe\ntheir obstinate blyndenes? Who woulde not weepe? to heare\nand reade in how many places, they be openly accursed by the\nscriptures of Christ. God him self playnely affirmeth, that\nhe wyll sodenly consume them with the breath of his anger.\nYea, besides that whoso euer declyneth from the word of\nGod is accursed in all his doynges, whether he be Kyng, or\nPrynce, riche, or poore, or of what estate soeuer he bee.\nThis fearfull saiyng (most excellent Prynce) shulde moue all\nmen to take hede vnto their duties and to praie that gods\nword maie take place emogist vs. O that al men would\n||fantasie the scriptures of God, and saye with the vertuous\nman Iob. Wee will not bee ageynst the woordes of the holy\none. Truth it is, God taketh diligent care too haue vs al\nknow his woord. Woulde God therfore, that all wee were now\nwilling to haue the syncere woorde of God & all holsom\ndoctrine too go forward. O that all we would consent\ntogither in the Gospell, brotherly admonishyng, and\nsecretelye prouokyng one an other too true religion\n& vertue. O that no man would sow emongist the people\npernitious doctryne, but with all lowly diligece and Godlye\nmonition euer prouoke, tempt, and stere them, tyll their\nheartes were remoued fro their olde dautyng dreames and\nsupersticio, which haue been long grafted in them thorow\npopyshe doctrine. By this meane wee shuld euer haue concorde\nemongist vs, whiche in all thynges is necessary, but most\nnedefull and expedient in Gods holi woord. Now truely the\ngodlyest thynge that can bee deuysed, for any christian\nrealme, is to haue emongist them one maner and || fourme\nof doctryne, & too trace trueli the steppes of God and\nneuer to seeke any other bywayes. Who hath not redde in ye\nscriptures? but that realme is endued with godly ornamentes\n& riches, where all men prospere, go for ward and florishe\nin gods woord, delectyng day and night in the swete\ncosolations of the holy testament. By this way we shuld\nespecially set forth the glory of God, and of our sauiour\nIesu Christ, if we would reuerently shew one an other that\nwhiche God hath taught vs. Yea & in this doyng all men\nshulde well perceaue that we were the true disciples of\nChrist, being knitte and coupled fast together in mynde\nand iudgement, preachyng God with one mouth and also with\none assent euer promotyng his gloryous testament. O the\ngood happe and grace of that king or prynce emongist whose\nsubiectes there is such an hole consent and iudgement in the\nwoord of God, for that most assuredly byndeth & adiuigneth\nye hartes of al subiectes too their kyng. The strength of\nthe Gospell is euen suche in this puincte, || that there was\nneuer man, which did humily receaue it, that would murmour\nageynst his Prince. It teacheth how wyllyngly all men shulde\nobey their kyng. It sheweth verye lyuely and most apertly\nvnto euery man his ful dutie. It euer prouoketh vs from all\nwicked, cursed, and most obstinate disobedience. It euer\ninstructeth men too shewe them selues most lowly, humile,\nand obesaunt toward their Prynce. Whosoeuer hath tasted\nfully therof, will declare hym selfe in al thynges, too\nbee a faithful subiect. Furthermore, it is clearer then the\nlight (most vertuous prince) that it woulde make muche for\nthe weale of this noble realme, yf all me with heart and\nmynde, would nowe as well expulse the pernitious and\ndeuelyshe doctryne af that Romishe bishop, as his name is\nblotted i bookes. There is none so ignoraunt, but he knoweth\nthat, thorough hym we were brought into a woderful blindnes,\nthorough hym we did sauer of nothyng, but of stynkyng\nYdolatry, through hym we were deceiued with || false\nYpocrisie. Now let euery blind stiffe hearted, and obstinate\ncreature compare his abhomination with the gospell, and\nif he be not shameles, he will abashe to smell of his\npapistrie, and to walow still in ignoraunce, vn lest he bee\npriuely confederate and in heart consent with the detestable\nfelowship of al wicked papistes. Now would God all suche men\nwould reduce ageyn their heartes vnto ye gospell of Christ,\nwould god they would bee prouoked by some meane to desire\nknowledge. O that god woulde yeoue them a couragious mynde\ntoo reade the gospel, there they shal sone fynde all the\nvenoume of the romishe sort most playnely detected. Forsoth\nwee see dayly, that lacke of knowledge of the gospel maketh\nsome busserdes runne hedlong on all rockes, daungers, &\nextreme perilles: yea, and beside that, olde popysh doctryne\nwhiche lyeth folded vp & locked faste in their heartes,\ndoeth so sore blynd the that they haue neither fauour ne\naffectio too printe in their myndes, the expressed coucels,\nadmonitions, and || preceptes of the holy scripture, but\ntoo slepe stil in their owne conceites, dreames, & fonde\nphansies. Wherfore let your dignitie note well this, that\nall those whiche bee not wyllyng that gods woord should bee\nknowen, and that blyndenes should be clean expulsed from\nall men, whiche be baptised in ye blessed bludde of Christ,\nbewray themselues playne papistes: for in very deede that\nmost deceatful wolfe and graund maister papist with his\ntotiens quotiens, and a pena et culpa blesseth all suche\nas will bee blynde stil, maintaine his pope, drinke of\nhis cuppe of fornication, trust in his pardounes, liue\nin popery, ypocrisie, and danable ydolatrie, shut vp the\nkingdome of heauen, & neuer regarde the gospel. Cotrarie too\nthis, christ bi his holy Prophete calleth al those blessed\nthat seke for his testimonies, al those his elect & chose\nchildre, which turne fro synne, ypocrisie, & ydolatrie, all\nthose goddes that heare his word, yea, & breuely, al those\nwhich set it forward honorable me. & in this puincte your\ngrace shoulde euer beare in mynde, || that noble and\nvertuous kyng Hezekiah, whiche shewed hymselfe very\nhonorable in settig forward ye woord of God, and therby\ngotte hym glory and fame immortall, so that nowe he is most\nhighly praysed amongtst all men. Ageyn his subiectes dyd\nobey his commaundement feynedly with Ypocrisie, but in their\nheartes they abhorred gods woord. O the miserie that dyd\nafterwarde sodeinly ensue vpon them, O the wonderfull\nwrath of God that was poured vpon them, O their great and\nobstinate blindnes whiche caused them most greuously too\nbe scourged: Their plage was no lesse then too bee vtterly\nspoyled of their enemies, Their plage was no lesse then to\neate one an other: Yea, their plage was no lesse then to\neate their owne sonnes and doughters. This calamitie and\nsorow (most noble prynce) happened them because they dyd\nnot regarde the lawes of God, but tourned too their olde\nabhominable Ydolatrie, and lightelye estemed gods holy\nwoord. Wherfore euen now whosoeuer is an enemie ||B.i.|| to\nthe holy Bible, that is, neither studiyng it himselfe, nor\nwillyng that other men shulde knowe it, he can in no wyse be\na right christian man: although he fast, pray, doo almes,\n& all the good workes vnder heauen. And he that hath suche a\nmynde, is ye most cursed and cruel enemie too god, a playne\nsower of sedition, and a deuelishe disquieter of all godly\nmen. For truly those that reade the gospel of Christ, and\nlabour diligetly therin: doo fynde wonderfull rest &\nquietnes, from all woofull miserie, perturbatio, and\nvanities of this world. And surely none but ypocrites or els\ndeuilles would go about too stoppe or allure men from suche\na treasure and godly study. And it were conuenient, that all\nthey whiche wyll remayne styll necligent, styffe, & blind:\nshuld set before their faces the feare of paynes infernall,\nand if thei haue any grace at all, their spirites ought to\nbe moued: too note the great plages that haue happened the\nslouthful in gods woord, & those that haue been stubburne\nageynst the settyng || out of it. There bee a thousand\nrecordes and examples in the holy Bible agaynst such as be\nfarre wyde from knowledge, and lye now walteryng styl in\nignoraunce and will not looke vpon the bible. It woulde\nseme, they hope for a thyng, but their hope is in vaine:\nFor saint Paule plainely writeth the hope of suche ypocrites\nshall coo[~m] too nought. And too conclude (most honorable\nPrince) seeyng wee haue suche knowledge opened vnto vs, as\nneuer had englishe me, and are clearly deliuered from the\nsnares and deceiptes of al false and wicked doctrine, if we\nshuld not now thakefully receaue the gospell, and shewe our\nselues naturally enclyned to set it forwarde, yea, and pray\ndaye and night vnto God, for the preseruatio and health of\nthe kynges highnes, your graces deare, and most entierly\nbeloued father, we were neither true subiectes nor ryght\nchristen men. Forsoth, through the absolute wisedome, and\nthe most godly and politike prudencie of his grace, the\nswete sounde of gods woorde is gone ||B.ii.|| thorough out\nall this realme, the holye Bible and blessed testament of\noure sauiour Christ are coo[~m]ne to lighte, and thousandes\nhaue faithfully receiued those pleasaunt, ioyfull, and most\ncomfortable promises of God. Surely this thyng before all\nother, is acceptable too god. This thyng especially swageth\nye ire of god. This thyng in all holi scriptures god most\nchiefly requireth of his elect & faithfull seruautes, euen\ntoo haue his lytell flocke knowe his blessed woorde, whiche\nwoulde bee muche better knowe & more thankefulli receaued,\nyf al agees and degrees of men with one mynd, wyll, & voice,\nwould nowe drawe after one lyne, leauyng their owne priuate\naffections, and shewe theim selues euer vigilant, prompt,\n& ready helpers & workers with God, (accordynge to\nthe councell of sainct Paule) & especially priestes,\nscolemaisters & paretes, which accordyng too ye Prophete\nDauid are blessed, if they gladly requite ye lawe of God.\nThey shuld therfore reade ye bible & purdge theyr mindes of\nal papistry: for theyr || necligence, in dooyng their duties\n& slugishnes toward ye blessed woord of god, dooeth too\nmuche appere. Through them forsoth the gospel of Christ\nshuld bee most strongely warded and defended, for almost\nall the Prophetes, and a great parte of the scripture beside\nteache them their duties, and shew playnely what maner of\nmen they shulde bee: Yea, and how greuously the holy\nProphetes crie out vpon false and ignoraunt priestes, the\nthyng is very euident. But through the helppe of God all\nthose that be ignoraunt, or els learned (as they take them\nselues) wyll leaue of, and repent them of their wicked and\nobstinate blyndnes, and bowe them selues with all\noportunitie too draw mens heartes too the holy testament\nof God: consideryng, that in the terrible day of iudgement,\neuery ma shall yeoue accompte of his Beliwicke, where\nneither ignorauce shall excuse vs, ne yet any worldly pope\nmay defed vs. Most happye the shall they bee, whiche haue\nwalked iustely in the sight of the Lorde, and ||B.iii.||\nthat haue syncerely preached his testament and lyuely woord\nwithoute flattery or iuggelyng: Yea, and in that fearful\nday, all they (as writeth S. Augustine) shal fynde mercie\nat the handes of god, whiche haue entised and allured other\nvnto goodnes and vertue. Weiyng this with my self, (most\nexcellent, and vnto all kynd of vertues most propt & prestat\nPrince) I thought it good too translate this Dialoge, called\nthe Epicure, for your grace: whiche semed too me, too bee\nvery familiar, & one of ye godliest Dialoges that any ma\nhath writte in ye latin tong. Now therfore I most humili\npraie, that this my rude & simple traslation may bee\nacceptable vnto your grace, trustyng also that your most\napproued gentilnes, wil take it in good part. There as I\ndoo not folow ye latyn, woord for woord, for I omytte that\nof a certaine set purpose.\n\n       _Your humile seruaunt, Philyppe_\n           Gerrard, groume of your\n                graces Chambre.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n              The interlocutours\n\n             {HEDONIVS} {SPVDEVS}\n\nWhat meaneth hit _Spudeus_, too applye hys booke so\nernestlye I praye you what is the matter you murmour so with\nyourselfe? _SPVDEVS._ The truth is (O _Hedoni_) I seke too\nhaue knowledge of a thing, but as yet I cannot fynde that\nwhych maketh for my purpose. _HEDO_ What booke haue you\nthere in your bosome? _SPVDE. Ciceros_ ||dialoge of the\nendes of goodnes. _HEDO._ It had bene farre more better for\nyou, too haue sought for the begynnynges of godly thynges,\nthen the endes. _SPVDE._ Yea, but _Marcus Tullius_ nameth\nthat the ende of godlines which is an exquisite, a far\npassing, and a very absolute goodnes in euerye puincte,\nwherein there is contained all kynde of vertu: vnto the\nknowledge ther of whosoeuer can attaine, shuld desire none\nother thig, but hold himselfe hauyng onely that, as one most\nfully content and satisfied. _HED._ That is a worke of very\ngreat learning and eloquence. But doo you thynke, that you\nhaue preuailed in any thig there, whereby you haue the\n||rather come too the knowledge of the truth? _SPE._ I\nhaue had such fruite and comoditie by it, that now verelye\nhereafter I shall doubt more of the effect and endes of good\nthinges, then I did before. _HEDO._ It is for husbad menne\ntoo stande in doubt how farre the limittes and merebakes\nextend. _SPE._ And I cannot but muse styll, yea, and wonder\nvery muche, why ther hath been so great controuersie in\niudgementes vpon so weightie a matter (as this is) emongist\nso well learned menne: especially suche as bee most famous\nand auncient writers. _HEDO._ This was euen the cause, where\nthe verite of a thyng is playne and manifest, cotrarily, ye\nerrour through || ignoraunce againe in the same, is soone\ngreat & by diuers meanes encreaseth, for that thei knewe not\nthe foundation and first beginnyng of the whole matter, they\ndoo iudge at all auentures and are very fondly disceaued,\nbut whose sentence thynke you too bee truest? _SPE._ Whan\nI heare _MARCVS Tullius_ reproue the thyng, I then fatasie\nnone of all their iudgementes, and whan I heare hym agayne\ndefende the cause: it maketh me more doubtfull the euer I\nwas and am in suche a studie, that I can say nothyng. But\nas I suppose ye Stoickes haue erred the lest, and nexte vnto\nthe I commend the _Peripatetickes_. _HEDo._ Yet I lyke none\nof their opinions || so well as I doo the Epicures. _SPV._\nAnd emogist all the sectes: the _Epicures_ iudgement is most\nreproued and condemned with the whole consent and arbitremet\nof all menne. _HED._ Let vs laye a side all disdayne and\nspite of names, and admitte the Epicure too bee suche one,\nas euery man maketh of hym. Let vs ponder and weighe the\nthyng as it is in very deed. He setteth the high and\nprincipall felicitie of man in pleasure, and thiketh that\nlyfe most pure and godly, whiche may haue greate delectatio\nand pleasure, and lytle pensiuenes. _SPV._ It is euen so.\n_HED._ What more vertuouser thyng, I praye you, is possible\ntoo bee spoke then this || saiyng. _Spu._ Yea, but all menne\nwonder and crye out on it, and saye: it is the voyce of a\nbruite beast, and not of manne. _Hedo._ I knowe thei doo so,\nbut thei erre in ye vocables of theise thinges, and are very\nignoraunt of the true and natiue significations of the\nwoordes, for if wee speake of perfecte thynges, no kinde of\nmenne bee more righter _Epicures_, then Christen men liuing\nreueretly towardes God and ma, and in the right seruice and\nworshiping of Christ. _SPV_ But I thinke the _Epicures_ bee\nmore nerer and agree rather with the _Cynickes_, then with\nthe Christien sorte: forsoth ye Christiens make them selues\nleane || with fastynge, bewayle and lament their offences,\nand eyther they bee nowe poore, or elles theyr charitie and\nliberalitie on the nedye maketh theim poore, thei suffer\npaciently to bee oppressed of mene that haue great power and\ntake many wronges at their handes, and many men also laughe\ntheim too skorne. Nowe, if pleasure brynge felicitie wyth\nit, or helpe in anye wyse vnto the furderaunce of vertue:\nwe see playnly that this kynde of lyfe is fardest from al\npleasures. _Hedonius._ But doo you not admitte _Plautus_ too\nbee of authoritie? _Speudeus._ Yea, yf he speake vprightely.\n_Hedonius._ Heare nowe them, and beare awaye wyth you the\nsaiynge of || an vnthriftie seruaunt, whyche is more wyttier\nthen all the paradoxes of the Stoickes. _SPE._ I tarie\nto heare what ye wil say. _HEDO._ Ther is nothyng more\nmiserable then a mynd vnquiet & agreued with it selfe.\n_SPE._ I like this saiyng well, but what doo you gather of\nit? _HEDO._ If nothing bee more miserable the an vnquiet\nmynde, it foloweth also, that there is nothing happiar, then\na mynde voyde of all feare, grudge, and vnquietnes. _SPEV._\nSurely you gather the thing together with good reaso but\nthat notwithstandynge, in what countrie shall you fynde any\nsuch mynde, that knoweth not it selfe gyltie and culpable in\nsome kynde of euell, _HEDO._ || I call that euyll, whiche\ndissolueth the pure loue and amitie betwixt God and manne.\n_SPV._ And I suppose there bee verye fewe, but that thei bee\noffeders in this thynge. _HEDO._ And in good soth I take it,\nthat al those that bee purdged, are clere: whych wiped out\ntheir fautes with lee of teares, and saltpeter of sorowfull\nrepentaunce, or els with the fire of charitie, their offeces\nnowe bee not only smalle grefe and vnquietnes too them, but\nalso chaunce ofte for some more godlier purpose, as causing\nthe too lyue afterward more accordyngly vnto Gods\ncommaudemetes. _SPV._ In deede I knowe saltpeter and lee,\nbut yet I neuer hearde before, that faultes || haue been\npurdged with fire. _H._ Surely, if you go to the minte you\nshall see gould fyned wyth fyre, notwithstadyng that ther\nis also, a certaine kynde of line that brenneth not if it\nbee cast in ye fyre, but loketh more whiter then any water\ncoulde haue made it, & therefore it is called _Linum\nasbestinum_, a kynde of lynen, whyche canne neither bee\nquenched with water nor brent with fyre. _Spu._ Nowe in\ngood faith you bring a paradox more woderful then all the\nmaruailous and profound thynges of the Stoickes: lyue thei\npleasasauntly whom Chryst calleth blessed for that they\nmourne & lament? _Hedonius._ Thei seme too the worlde too\nmourne, but || verely they lyue in greate pleasure, and as\nthe commune saiynge is, thei lyue all together in pleasure,\nin somuche that _SARDANAPALVS_, _Philoxenus_, or _Apitius_\ncompared vnto them: or anye other spoken of, for the greate\ndesyre and study of pleasures, did leade but a sorowefull\nand a myserable lyfe. _Spe._ These thinges that you declare\nbee so straunge and newe, that I can scarcelye yeoue any\ncredite vnto them. _Hedo._ Proue and assaye them ones, and\nyou shall fynde all my saiynges so true as the Gospell, and\nimmediatly I shal bryng the thynge too suche a conclusion\n(as I suppose) that it shall appeare too differ very lytle\nfrom the truth ||C.i|| _SPV._ make hast then vnto your\npurpose. _HED._ It shalbe doone if you wyll graunt me\ncertayne thynges or I begynne. _Spu._ If in case you\ndemaunde suche as bee resonable. _Hedo._ I wyl take myne\naduauntage, if you confesse the thyng that maketh for mine\nintent. _Spu._ go too. _Hedo._ I thynke ye wyll fyrste\ngraunt me, that ther is great diuersitie betwxt the solle\nand the bodye _Spu._ Euen as much as there is betwene heauen\nand yearth, or a thyng earthly and brute, & that whiche\ndieth neuer, but alwayes cotaineth in it the godly nature.\n_Hedo._ And also, that false deceiueable & couterfetted holy\nthynges, are not too bee taken for those, which in very dede\nbe || godly. _Spude._ No more then the shaddowes are too\nbee estemed for the bodies, or the illusions and wonders of\nwytchcraftes or the fantasies of dreames, are too bee taken\nas true thynges. _HE._ Hitherto you answer aptly too my\npurpose, and I thynke you wyl graunt me this thyng also,\nthat true and godly pleasure can reste and take place no\nwhere but only on such a mynd that is sobree and honest.\n_SPV._ What elles? for no man reioyseth too beholde the\nSunne, if his eyes bee bleared or elles delecteth in wyne,\nif the agew haue infected hys tast. _HED._ And the _Epicure_\nhymselfe, or elles I am disceiued, would not clippe &\nenbrace that pleasure, whiche ||C.ii.|| would bring with\nit farre greater payne and suche as would bee of long\ncontinuaunce. _SPV_ I thynke he woulde not, if he had any\nwytte at all. _HED._ Nor you wyll not denye this, that God\nis the chiefe and especiall goodnes, then who there is\nnothyng fayrer, there is nothyng ameabler, ther is nothing\nmore delicious and swetter. _SPVDE._ No man wyll deny thys\nexcept he bee very harde hearted and of an vngentler nature\nthen the _Ciclopes_. _HED._ Nowe you haue graunted vnto\nme, that none lyue in more pleasure, then thei whyche lyue\nvertuouslye, and agayne, none in more sorowe and calamytie\nthen those that || lyue vngratiously. _Spu._ Then I haue\ngrauted more the I thought I had. _He._ But what thing you\nhaue ones cofessed too bee true (as _Plato_ sayth) you\nshould not deny it afterward. _SPV._ Go furth with your\nmatter. _HEDO_ The litle whelpe that is set store and greate\nprice by, is fed most daintely, lieth soft, plaieth and\nmaketh pastime continually, doo you thinke that it lyueth\nplesautly? _SPV._ It dooeth truely. _HEDO._ Woulde you wyshe\nto haue suche a lyfe? _SPV._ God forbyd that, excepte I\nwoulde rather bee a dogge then a man, _HEDO._ Then you\nconfesse that all the chief pleasures arise and spring\nfro the mynd, as though it were from a welspryng. _SPV._\n||C.iii|| That is euident ynough. _HE._ Forsoth the strength\nand efficacy of the minde is so great, that often it taketh\naway the felyng of al externe and outward pain & maketh that\npleasaunt, which by it selfe is very peynful. _SPV._ We se\nthat dayly in louers, hauyng great delight to sytte vp long\n& too daunce attendaunce at their louers doores all the\ncolde wynter nyghtes. _HEDo._ Now weigh this also, if the\nnaturall loue of man, haue suche great vehemency in it,\nwhich is a comune thyng vnto vs, both with bulles and\ndogges, howe much more should all heauenly loue excell\nin vs, which cometh of ye spirit of Christ, whose stregthe\nis of suche power, that it ||would make death a thig most\nterrible, too bee but a pleasure vnto vs. _Spu._ What other\nmen thike inwardly I know not, but certes thei wat many\npleasures which cleaue fast vnto true and perfect vertue.\n_He._ What pleasures? _Spu._ Thei waxe not rich, thei optein\nno promotio, thei baket not, thei dauce not, thei sing not,\nthei smell not of swete oyntmetes, thei laugh not, thei\nplay not. _He._ We should haue made no mention in thys\nplace of ryches and prefermente, for they bryng wyth them\nno pleasaunt lyfe, but rather a sadde and a pesiue. Let vs\nintreate of other thynges, suche as they chiefely seeke for,\nwhose desyre is to liue deliciously, see ye not daily\n||C.iiii|| drokerdes, fooles, and mad menne grinne and\nleape? _SPV._ I see it _HED._ Do you thynke that thei liue\nmost pleasautly? _SPV_ God send myne enemies such myrth &\npleasure. _HE._ Why so? _Sp._ For ther lacketh emongist the\nsobrietie of mind. _HE._ Then you had leuer sit fastyng at\nyour booke, then too make pastime after any suche sorte.\n_SP._ Of the both: truly I had rather chose to delue.\n_H._ For this is plaine that betwixt the mad ma & the\ndrukerd ther is no diuersitie, but that slepe wil helpe the\none his madnes, & with much a doo ye cure of _Physicions_\nhelpeth the other, but the foole natural differeth nothing\nfro a brute beast except by shape and portrature of body,\nyet thei || be lesse miserable whom nature hathe made verye\nbrutes, then those that walowe theim selues in foule and\nbeastly lustes. _SP._ I confesse that. _Hedo._ But now tell\nme, whether you thynke the sobre and wyse, which for playn\nvanities and shadowes of plesure, booth dispice the true\nand godlye pleasures of the mynde and chose for them selues\nsuche thynges as bee but vexacion & sorowe. _SPV._ I take\nit, thei bee not. _Hedo._ In deede thei bee not druke with\nwyne, but with loue with anger, with auarice, with ambicion,\nand other foule and filthie desires, whiche kynde of\ndrunkenes is farre worse, the that is gotten with drinking\nof wine. Yet _Sirus_ that leude cospanio ||of whom mention\nis made in ye commedie, spake witty thynges after he had\nslepte hym self soobre, and called too memorie his greate\nand moost beastlye drunkenes: but the minde that is infected\nwith vicious & noughty desire, hath muche a doo too call it\nselfe whom agein? How many yeares doeth loue, anger, spite,\nsensualitie, excesse, and ambition, trouble and prouoke the\nmynde? How many doo wee see, whiche euen from their youth,\ntoo their latter dais neuer awake nor repet them of the\ndrunkennes, of ambitio, nigardnes, wanton lust, & riatte?\n_Spu._ I haue knowen ouermany of that sorte. _Hedo._ You\nhaue grauted that false and fayned good || thinges, are not\ntoo bee estemed for the pure and godly. _Sp._ And I affirme\nthat still. _Hedo._ Nor that there is no true and perfect\npleasure, except it bee taken of honest and godly thynges.\n_Spud._ I confesse that. _He._ Then (I pray you) bee not\nthose good that the commune sorte seeke for, they care not\nhowe? _Spu._ I thinke they be not. _Hedo._ Surely if thei\nwere good, they would not chaunce but onely too good men:\nand would make all those vertuous that they happen vntoo.\nWhat maner of pleasure make you that, doo you thinke it too\nbee godly, which is not of true & honest thynges, but of\ndeceatfull: and coometh out of ye shadowes of good thynges?\n_Sp._ || Nay in noo wyse. _He._ For pleasure maketh vs to\nliue merely. _Spu._ Yea, nothyng so muche. _He._ Therfore\nno man truely liueth pleasauntly, but he that lyueth godly:\nthat is, whiche vseth and delecteth onli in good thynges:\nfor vertue of it selfe, maketh a man to habound in all\nthynges that bee good, perfete, & prayse worthy: yea, it\nonely prouoketh God the fountaine of all goodnes, too loue\nand fauour man. _SP._ I almost consent with you. _HED._\nBut now marke howe far they bee from all pleasure, whiche\nseeme openly emongist all men too folowe nothyng, but the\ninordinate delectation in in thynges carnall. || First their\nmynde is vile, and corrupted with the sauour and taste of\nnoughtie desires, in so muche that if any pleasaunt thing\nchaunce them, forthwith it waxeth bitter, and is nought set\nby, in like maner as where ye welle hed is corrupted and\nstynketh, there ye water must nedes be vnsauery. Agein ther\nis no honest pleasure, but that whiche wee receaue with a\nsobre and a quiet mynde. For wee see, nothyng reioyseth the\nangry man more, the too bee reuenged on his offenders, but\nthat pleasure is turned into pain after his rage bee past,\nand anger subdued. _Spu._ I say not the contrary.\n_He._ Finally, suche leude pleasures bee taken of fallible\nthinges, therefore || it foloweth that they be but delusios\nand shadowes. What woulde you say furthermore, if you saw\na ma so deceaued with sorcerie & also other detestable\nwitchecraftes, eat, drynke, leap, laugh, yea, and clappe\nhandes for ioye, when ther wer no such thyng there in very\ndede, as he beleueth he seeth. _Spu._ I wolde say he were\nboth mad and miserable. _Hedo._ I my self haue been often\nin place, where the lyke thyng hath been doone. There was\na priest whiche knewe perfectly by longe experience and\npractise, the arte to make thynges seme that they were not,\notherwise called, _deceptio visus_. _Sp._ He did not lerne\nthat arte of the holy scripture? _Hedo._ Yea, || rather of\nmost popeholy charmes and witchecraftes: that is too saye,\nof thinges, cursed, dampnable, and wourthy too bee abhorred.\nCertayne ladies & gentlewomen of the courte, spake vnto hym\noftentimes: saiyng, they woulde coo[~m] one day too his\nhouse and see what good chere he kept: reprouyng, greatly\nvile and homly fare, and moderate expenses in all thynges.\nHe graunted they shulde bee welcome, and very instauntly\ndesired them. And they came fastyng because they would\nhaue better appetites. Wha they wer set to dyner (as it was\nthought) ther wated noo kynde of delitious meat: they filled\nthe selues haboudantly: after ye feast was || doone, they\ngaue moost hearty thanckes, for their galaunte cheare, and\ndeparted, euery one of them vnto their owne lodgynges: but\nanone their stomackes beganne too waxe an hungred, they\nmaruayled what this shuld meane, so soone to be an hungred\nand a thirste, after so sumptuous a feast: at the last the\nmatter was openly knowen and laught at. _Spu._ Not without a\ncause, it had been muche better for the too haue satisfied\ntheir stomackes at their owne chabers with a messe of\npotage, the too be fed so delitiousli with vain illusios.\n_H._ And as I thik ye comune sort of men ar muche more too\nbee laught at, whiche in steede of Godlye thynges, ||chose\nvaine and transitory shadowes, and reioyce excedyngly in\nsuche folishe phansies that turne not afterwarde in too\na laughter, but into euerlasting lamentation and sorow.\n_Spudeus_ The more nerelier I note your saiynges, the better\nI like the. _Hedo._ Go too, let vs graunt for a tyme these\nthynges too bee called pleasaunt, that in very dede ar not.\nWould yow saye that meeth were swete: whiche had more Aloes\nmyngled with it, then honye? _Spud._ I woulde not so say and\nif there were but the third part of an ounce of Aloes mixt\nwith it. _Hedo._ Or els, would you wishe to bee scabbed\nbecause you haue some pleasure too scratch? _Spud._ Noo, if\nI wer ||D.i|| in my right mynd. _HED._ Then weigh with your\nself how great peyne is intermyngled wyth these false and\nwrongly named pleasures, that vnshamefast loue filthie\ndesire, much eatyng and drinking bring vs vnto: I doo omitte\nnow that, which is principall grudge of coscience, enemitie\nbetwixt God and ma, and expectation of euerlastyng\npunishement. What kynd of pleasure, I pray you is ther in\nthese thinges, that dooeth not bryng with it a greate heape\nof outeward euilles? _SPV._ What bee thei? _HEDO._ We ought\nto let passe and forbeare in this place auarice, ambition,\nwrath, pryde enuy, whiche of their selues bee heuy and\nsorowful euylles and || let vs conferre and compare all\nthose thynges together, that haue the name of some chief and\nspecial pleasure: wher as the agew the hedache, the swelling\nof the belly, dulnes of witte, infamy, hurt of memory,\nvomyting, decaye of stomacke, tremblyng of the body succede\nof ouer muche drynking: thynke you, that the _Epicure_ would\nhaue estemed any suche lyke pleasure as thys, couenient and\nwourthy desire? _SPV._ He woulde saye it wer vtterly too bee\nrefused. _HEDONi._ Wheras young men also with hauntynge of\nwhores (as it is dayly seene) catche the newe leprosie, nowe\notherwyse named Jobs agew, and some cal it the scabbes of\nNaples, throughe ||D.ii|| which desease they feele often ye\nmost extreme and cruell paines of deathe euen in this lyfe,\nand cary about a bodye resemblyng very much some dead coarse\nor carryn, do you thynke that thei apply them selues vnto\ngodlye pleasure. _SPVD._ Noo, for after thei haue been often\nfamiliar with their prety ones, then they must goo streighte\ntoo the barbours, that chaunceth continuallye vnto all\nwhoremongers. _HED._ Now fayne that ther wer a lyke measure\nof pain and plesure, would ye then require too haue the\ntoothache so longe as the pleasure of quaffing & whordome\nendured? _SPV._ Verely I had rather wat them booth, for ther\nis no commoditie nor || vantage to bye pleasure with payn\nbut only to chaug one thing for another, but the best choise\nis nowe not too affectionate anye such leudnes, for _MAR.\nTullius_ calleth that an inward greife & sorow. _He._ But\nnow ye prouocation & entisemet of vnleful plesure, besides\nthat it is much lesse then the pain which it bringeth with\nit, it is also a thing of a very short time: but if the\nleprosye bee ones caught, it tourmeteth me al their life\ndaies very pitifully & oftentimes costraineth them to wyshe\nfor death before thei ca dye. _SP._ Such disciples as those\nthen, the _Epicure_ would not knowe. _HED._ For the most\npart pouertie, a very miserable and painfull burden,\nfoloweth ||D.iii.|| lechery, of immoderate lust cometh the\npalsie, tremblyng of ye senewes, bleardnes of eyes, and\nblyndnes, the leprosie and not these only, is it not a\nproper pece of worke (I pray you) to chaug this short\npleasure neyther honest nor yet godly, for so manye euylles\nfar more greuouse and of muche longer continuance.\n_SP._ Although there shoulde no pain com of it, I esteme\nhym to bee a very fond occupier, which would chauge precious\nstones for glasse. _HE._ You meane that would lose the godly\npleasures of the mynde, for the coloured pleasures of ye\nbody. _SP._ That is my meanyng. _HE._ But nowe let vs come\nto a more perfecter supputation, neither the agewe || nor\nyet pouerty foloweth alwaies carnal pleasure, nor the new\nleprosy or els the palsy wait not on at al times the great &\nexcessiue vse of lecherye, but grudge of cosiece euermore is\na folower & sure companio of al vnleaful pleasure, then the\nwhich as it is plainly agreed betwixt vs, nothyng is more\nmiserable. _SPV._ Yea, rather it grudgeth their coscience\nsometyme before hande, & in the self pleasure it pricketh\ntheir mynde, yet ther bee some that you woulde say, want\nthis motion and feelyng. _HE._ Thei bee nowe therfore in\nworse estate & coditio. Who would not rather feele payne,\nthen too haue hys body lacke any perfecte sence, truly from\nsome ether intemperatnes ||D.iiii.|| of euel desires, euen\nlike as it were a certayne kynde of drunkenes, or els wont\nand comune haunt of vice which ar so hardened in them, that\nthey take a way ye felyng & cosideration of euyl in their\nyouth, so that wha agee commeth vpo them beside other\ninfinitie hurtes and perturbations agaynst whose commyng\nthei should haue layd vp the deedes of their former lyfe,\nas a special iuwel and treasure: then thei stande greatly in\nfear of death, a thyng emongist all other most ineuitable,\n& that no man canne shonne: yea, and the more they haue\nheretofore been dysmayed and lacked their sences, the\ngreater now is their vnquietnes and grudge of || conscience,\nthen truely the mynde is sodenly awaked whether it wol or\nnoo, and verely wher as olde agee is alwayes sad and heuy\nof it selfe for as muche as it is in subiection and bondage\nvnto many incommodities of nature, but then it is farre more\nwretchede and also fylthye, if the mynde vnquiet with it\nselfe shal trouble it also: feastes, ryotous banketyng,\nsyngyng, and daunsynge, with manye suche other wanton toyes\n& pastimes which he was communely yeoue vnto & thought very\nplesaut when he was young, bee nowe paynfull vnto hym beyng\nolde and crooked, ne agee hath nothyng too comforte and\nfortifi || it selfe withall, but onely too remembre that it\nhath passed ouer the course of yeares in vertue and godly\nliuyng and conceaue a special trust too obtaine herafter a\nbetter kynde of life. These be the two staues wherevpon age\nis stayed, & if in their steed you wyll lay on hym these\ntwo burdens: that is, memorie how synfully he hath ledde his\nlife, and desperation of the felicitie that is too coome,\nI praye you what liuyng thyng can bee feyned too suffre\nsorer punishement and greater miserie? _spu._ Verely I can\nsee nothyng although some man woulde saye an olde horse.\n_hedo._ Then to coclude it is too late to waxe wise And that\nsaiyng appereth now || too bee very true. Carefull mornynges\ndoo oftentymes folowe mery euentides, and all vayne and\noutragious mirth euer turneth into sorowfull sighes: yea, &\nthey shulde haue considered both that there is noo pleasure\naboue ye ioyfulnes of the heart, and that chearefull mynde\nmaketh agee too florishe, an heauy spirit consumeth the\nboones, & also that all the dayes of the poore are euell:\nthat is, sorowfull and wretched. And agayne a quiet mynde is\nlyke a contynuall feaste. _SPVDEVS._ Therfore they bee wyse,\nthat thryue in tyme, and gather too gether necessaries for\nthat agee coo[~m]. _HEDONI._ The holy scripture intreateth\nnot soo wordely || as too measure the felicitie and highe\nconsolation of manne, by the goodes of fortune, onely he\nis very poore, that is destitute and voyde of al grace &\nvertue, and standeth in boundage and debette, bothe of bodye\n& solle vnto that tyranne oure moost foo & mortall enemie\nthe deuill. _SPV._ Surely he is one that is veri rigorous\nand impatient in demaundynge of his dutie. _HE._ Moreouer\nthat man is ryche, whiche fyndeth mercye and foryeouenes at\nthe handes of god. What shuld he feare, that hath suche a\nprotectour? Whether men? where as playnely theyr hole power\nmay lesse do agaest God, then the bytyng of a gnat, ||\nhurteth the Elephant. Whether death? truly that is a right\npassage for good men vnto all sufficient ioy and perfection\naccordyng too the iust reward of true religion and vertue.\nWhether hell? For as in that the holy prophete speaketh\nboldely vnto God. Although I shulde walke in the middest of\nthe shadow of death, I wil not feare any euils because ye\nart with me. Wherfore shulde he stande in feare of deuils,\nwhiche beareth in his heart hym, that maketh the deuils too\ntremble and quake. For in diuers places the holye scripture\npraiseth and declareth opely the mynde of a vertuous man,\ntoo bee the right temple of God. And this to bee so true\nthat || that it is not too bee spoken agaynst, ne in any\nwise shuld bee denied. _SPV._ Forsoth I can not see, by what\nreason these saiynges of yours can be confuted al thoughe\nthey seme too varye muche from the vulgar and comune\nopinion of men. _HEDO._ Why doo they soo? _SPV._ After\nyour reasonyng euery honest poore man, shulde liue a more\npleasaunt life, then any other, how much soeuer he did\nhaboud in riches, honour, and dignitie: and breuely though\nhe had all kynde of pleasures. _HE._ Adde this too it (if it\nplease you) too bee a kyng, yea, or an emperour if you take\naway a quiet mynd with it selfe, I dare boldely say, that\nthe poore man sklenderlye || and homely appareled, made\nweake with fastyng, watchyng, great toile and labour, and\nthat hath scarcely a groat in all the worlde, so that his\nmynde bee godly, he lyueth more deliciously then that man\nwhiche hathe fyue hudreth times greater pleasures &\ndelicates, then euer had _Sardanapalus_. _SP._ Why is it\nthe, that we see communely those that bee poore looke farre\nmore heuely then riche men. _HED._ Because some of them bee\ntwise poore, eyther some desease, nedines, watchyng, labour,\nnakednesse, doo soo weaken the state of their bodyes, that\nby reason therof, the chearefulnes of their myndes neuer\nsheweth it selfe, neyther in these thinges, || nor yet in\ntheir deathe. The mynde, forsooth thoughe it bee inclosed\nwithin this mortal bodye, yet for that it is of a stronger\nnature, it sowhat trasfourmeth and fascioneth the bodie\nafter it selfe, especially if the vehement instigation of\nthe spirit approche the violent inclination of nature: this\nis the cause we see oftentymes suche men as bee vertuous die\nmore cherefully, then those that make pastyme contynually,\n& bee yeoue vnto all kynd of pleasures. _SP._ In very dede,\nI haue meruayled oftten at that thyng. _HED_ Forsoothe it is\nnot a thyng too bee marueyled at, though that there shulde\nbee vnspeakeable || ioy and comforte where God is present,\nwhiche is the heed of all mirth and gladnes, nowe this is\nno straunge thyng, althoughe the mynde of a godly man doo\nreioyce contynually in this mortall bodye: where as if the\nsame mynde or spirit discended into the lowest place of hell\nshuld lose no parte of felicitie, for whersoeuer is a pure\nmynd, there is god, wher God is: there is paradise, ther is\nheauen, ther is felicitie, wher felicitie is: ther is the\ntrue ioy and synsere gladnes. _SP._ But yet they shuld liue\nmore pleasauntly, if certein incommodities were taken from\nthem, and had suche pastymes as eyther they dispise orels\ncan not get nor attaine vnto. _HE._ ||E.i.|| (I praye you)\ndoo you meane, suche incommodities as by the commune course\nof nature folow the codition or state of ma: as hunger,\nthirst, desease, werynes, age, death, lyghtnyng yearthquake,\nfluddes & battail? _SPV._ I meane other, and these also.\n_HEDO._ Then we intreate styll of mortal thynges and not of\nimmortal, & yet in these euils the state of vertuous men,\nmay bee better borne withal, then of suche as seeke for the\npleasures of the body they care not howe. _SPV._ Why so:\n_HEDO._ Especyally because their myndes bee accustomed and\nhardened with most sure and moderate gouernaunce of reason\nagainst al outragious affections of the mind || and they\ntake more patiently those thynges that cannot bee shonned\nthen the other sort doo Furthermore, for as muche as thei\nperceiue, all such thynges ar sent of god, either for the\npunishment of their faultes, or els too excitate and sturre\nthem vp vnto vertue, then thei as meeke and obediente\nchyldren receiue them from the had of their mercifull\nfather, not only desireously, but also chearefully and\ngeue thankes also, namely for so merciful punyshment and\ninestimable gaines. _SPV._ But many doo occatio griefes\nvnto the selues. _HEDO._ But mo seeke remedye at the\n_Phisicions_, either to preserue their bodies in helth or\nelles if they bee sycke, too ||E.ii.|| recouer health, but\nwillyngly too cause their owne sorowes, that is, pouertie,\nsickenes, persecution, slaunder, excepte the loue of God\ncompel vs therto, it is no vertue but folishnes: but as\noften as thei bee punyshed for Christ and iustice sake,\nwho dar bee so bold as too cal them beggers & wretches?\nwha the Lord himself very famyliarly calleth them blessed,\nand commaudeth vs to reioyse for their state and condition.\n_SPV._ Neuerthelesse, these thynges haue a certayne payne\nand griefe. _HEDO._ Thei haue, but on the onesyde, what for\nfear of hel, and the other for hoope of euerlastynge ioye,\nthe payne is sone past and forgotte Now tell me if you\nknewe that || you myghte neuer bee sycke, or elles that you\nshoulde feele no payne of your body in your life tyme, if\nyou woulde but ones suffer your vtter skinne too bee prycked\nwith a pynnes puinct, would you not gladly and with all your\nvery heart suffer then so lytle a payne as that is?\n_SPV_ Verye gladlye, yea, rather if I knewe perfectlye\nthat my teeth would neuer ake, I would willynglye suffer\ntoo bee prycked depe with a nedle, and too haue both mine\neares bored through with a bodkin. _HEDO._ Surely what payne\nsoeuer happeneth in this lyfe, it is lesse and shorter,\ncompared with the eternall paines, then is the soden pricke\nof a needle, incompariso of the ||E.iii.|| lyfe of man\nthough it bee neuer so long, for there is no conuenience or\nproportion of the thyng that hath ende, and that whych is\ninfinite. _SPV._ You speake very truly. _HEDO._ Now if a man\ncoulde fully perswade you, that you should neuer feele payne\nin al your life, if you did but ones deuide the flame of ye\nfyre, with your hande, whyche thyng vndoughtely _Pithagoras_\nforbade, woulde you not gladlye doo it? _SPV._ Yea, on that\ncondicion I had liefer doo it an hundred times, if I knew\nprecisely the promiser would kepe touch. _HE._ It is playne\nGod cannot deceaue. But now that feelyng of paine in the\nfyre is longer vnto the whole lyfe of man, then is the\n||lyfe of ma, in respect of the heauenlye ioye, althoughe\nit were thrise so long as ye yeares of _Nestor_, for that\ncasting of the hand in the fyre thoughe it bee neuer so\nshorte, yet it is some parte of hys lyfe, but the whole\nlyfe of man is noo portion of tyme in respect of the eternal\nlyfe. _SPV._ I haue nothyng too saye against you.\n_HEDO._ Doo you then thyncke that anye affliction or\ntourment can disquiet those that prepare them selues wyth a\nchearful hearte and a stedfast hoope vnto the kyngedome of\nGod, wher as the course of this lyfe is nowe so shorte?\n_SPVDE._ I thinke not, if thei haue a sure perswasion and a\nconstant hope too attayne it. _HEDO._ I coome ||E.iiii.|| now\nvnto those pleasures, whiche you obiected agaynst me, they\ndo wythdrawe them selues from daunsynge, bankettynge, from\npleasaunte seeghtes, they dispyce all these thynges, as\nthus: for to haue the vse of thinges farre more ioyfulle,\nand haue as great pleasure as these bee, but after another\nsorte: the eye hath not seene, the eare hath not heard,\nnor the heart of man cannot thyncke what consolations _GOD_\nhathe ordeined for them that loue hym. Sayncte Paule knewe\nwhat maner of thynges shoulde bee the songes, queeres,\ndaunsynges, and bankettes of vertuous myndes, yea, in this\nlyfe. _SPVDEVS_ but there bee some leafull || pleasures,\nwhyche they vtterlye refuse. _HEDONIVS._ That maye bee, for\nthe immoderate vse of leafull and godly games or pastymes,\nis vnleaful: and if you wyll excepte this one thing onlye,\nin al other thei excelle whiche seeme too leade a paynfull\nlyfe, and whome we take too bee ouerwhelmed with all kynd of\nmiseries. Now I prai you what more roialler sight can ther\nbe, then ye coteplatio of this world? and such men as ye be\nin fauour of god keping his holy comaudemetes & loue his\nmost blessed testamet, receiue far geater pleasure in the\nsyght therof, then thother sorte doo, for while thei behold\nwyth ouercurious eyes, ye woderful worke, their mynde || is\ntroubled because they can not compasse for what purpose he\ndoeth such thinges, then thei improue the moost righte and\nwise gouernour of all and murmour at his doinges as though\nthey were goddes of reprehension: and often finde faute with\nthat lady nature, and saye that she is vnnaturall, whiche\ntaunt forsooth with as muche spite as can bee shewed with\nwoordes, greueth nature: but truely it reboundeth on hym,\nthat made nature, if there bee any at all. But the vertuous\nman with godly & simple eyes beholdeth with an excedyng\nreioyce of heart the workes of his Lorde and father highly\npraysyng the all, and neither reprehedeth nor || findeth\nfaut with any of the, but for euery thyng yeoueth moste\nhearty thankes, when he considereth that al were made for\nthe loue of man. And so in al thynges, he praieth vnto the\ninfinite power, deuine wisedome, & goodnes of the maker,\nwherof he perceiueth moste euident tokens in thynges that\nbee here created. Now fain that there were suche a palace in\nverie deede as _Apuleus_ faineth, or els one that were more\nroyall and gorgeouse, and that you shoulde take twoo thither\nwith you too beholde it, the one a straunger, whiche gooeth\nfor this intent onely too see the thyng, and the other the\nseruaut or soonne of hym that firste causeth this buyldyng,\nwhether || will haue more delectie in it? the straunger, too\nwhom suche maner of house dooeth nothyng appartain, or the\nsoonne whiche beholdeth with greate ioye and pleasure, the\nwitte, riches, and magnificence of his deerely beloued\nfather, especially when he dooeth consider all this worke\nwas made for his sake. _Sp._ Your question is too plain:\nfor they most comunely that bee of euill condicions, knowe\nthat heauen and all thinges contained therin, were made for\nmannes sake. _HEDO._ Almoste al knowe that, but some dooe\nnot remembre it, shewyng theselues vnthakeful for the great\nand exhuberat benefittes of god, & al though thei remember\nit, yet that ma taketh || greater delight in the sight of it\nwhiche hath more loue vnto the maker therof, in like maner\nas, he more chearfully wyll behold the element whiche\naspireth towarde the eternall life. _SPV._ Your saiynges\nare muche like too bee true. _HED._ Nowe the pleasures of\nfeastes dooeth not consist in the delicates of the mouth,\nnor in the good sauces of cookes, but in health of body\nand appetite of stomacke. You may not thynke that any\ndelicious person suppeth more pleasauntly hauyng before hym\npartriches, turtelles, leuerettes, bekers, sturgeon, and\nlamprayes: then a vertuous man hauyng nothig too eat, but\nonely bread potage, or wortes: and nothyng || too drynke,\nbut water, single bere, or wyne well alayde, be cause he\ntaketh these thinges as prepared of God vnto all lyuyng\ncreatures, and that they bee now yeoue vnto him of his\ngentyll and mercifull father, praier maketh euery thyng\ntoo sauour well. The petition in ye begynnyng of dyner\nsanctifieth all thynges and in a while after there is\nrecited some holy lesson of the woorde of God: whiche more\nrefresheth the minde, then meate the body, and grace after\nall this. Finally he riseth from the table, not ful: but\nrecreated, not laden, but refreshed: yea, refreshed both in\nspirit and bodie, thynke you that any chief deuiser of these\nmuche vsed bakets, & || deintye delicaces fareth nowe more\ndeliciously? _SPudeus._ But in _Venus_ there is greate\ndelectacions if we beleue _Arestotell_. _Hed._ And in this\nbehalfe the vertuous manne far excelleth as well as in good\nfare, wiegh you now the matter as it is, the better a manne\nloueth his wife, the more he delecteth in the good felowship\nand familiaritie that is betwene theim after the course\nof nature. Furthermore, no menne loue their wiues more\nvehemetly then thei that loue theim eue soo, as Christ loued\nthe churche. For thei that loue the for the desire of bodely\npleasure, loue the not. More ouer, the seldomer any man\ndooeth accompany with his wife, the greater pleasure, it ||\nis to hym afterwarde, and that thyng the wato poete knew\nfull well whiche writeth, rare and seldome vse stereth vp\npleasures. Albeit, the lest parte of pleasure is in the\nfamiliare company betwene theim. There is forsothe far\ngreater in the continuall leadyng of their liues too gether,\nwhiche emongest none can be so plesaunt as those that loue\nsyncerely and faithfully together in godly and christian\nloue, and loue a like one the other. In the other sort, ofte\nwhethe pleasure of ye body decaieth & waxeth old loue waxeth\ncoold & is sone forgotto, but emogest right christe me, the\nmore ye the lust of ye flesh decreaseth & vanisheth away,\nye more the al godly loue encreseth || Are you not yet\nperswaded that none lyue more pleasauntly the they whiche\nliue continually in vertue and true religio of god?\n_SP._ Would god all men were as well perswaded in that\nthyng. _He._ And if they bee Epicures that lyue pleasauntli:\nnone bee righter Epicures then they that liue vertuously,\nand if we wyll that euery thyng haue it right name none\ndeserueth more ye cogname of an Epicure, then that Prince of\nall godly wisedome too who most reueretly we ought alwaies\ntoo praye: for in the greeke tonge an Epicure signifieth\nan helper. Nowe whan the lawe of nature was first corrupted\nwith sinne, whe the law of Moses did rather prouoke euil\ndesires ||F.i.|| then remedy them. Wha the tyraunte Sathanas\nreygned in this worlde freely and wythout punishement, then\nthys prynce onely, dyd sodenlye helpe mankynde redy to\nperishe: wherfore thei erre shamefully which scoff and\nbable that _CHRIST_ was one that was sadd and of a\nmalancolye nature, & that he hath prouoked vs vnto an\nvnpleasaunt kynde of lyfe, for onely he did shewe a kind\nof liuing most godly and fullest of al true pleasure, if\nwe might haue the stone of _Tantalus_ taken awaye from vs.\n_SPVD._ What darke saiyng is this? _EDO._ It is a mery tale\ntoo laugh at, but this bourd induceth verye graue and sadde\nthynges. _SPV._ I tary too heare ||this mery conceite, that\nyou name too bee so sage a matter. _HE_ Thei whiche gaue\ntheir studye and diligence to colour and set furth the\npreceptes of Philosophie wyth subtil fables, declare that\nthere was one _Tantalus_ broughte vnto the table of the\ngoddes, whych was euer furnished wyth all good fare, and\nmost nete and sumptuous that myght bee, whan thys straunger\nshoulde take hys leave, Iupyter thought it was for his great\nliberalitie and highe renoume, that his guest shuld not\ndepart wythout some rewarde, he wylled him therfore too\naske what he woulde, and he shoulde haue it: _Tantalus_\n(forsooth) lyke a verye leude and foolyshe person, ||F.ii.||\nfor that he sette all the felicitie and pleasure of man in\nthe delectation of the bely, and glotonye, desired but\nonly too sytte at suche a table all the dayes of hys life,\nIupiter graunted him his desire, and shortly his vow was\nthere stablished and ratifyed. _Tantalus_ nowe sytteth at\nthe table furnyshed wyth all kindes of delicates, such\ndrinke as the goddes druncke of was set on the table, and\nthere wanted no rooses nor odours that could yeoue any swete\nsmel before the Goddes, _Ganymedes_ the buttler or one lyke\nvnto hym, standeth euer redye, the _Muses_ stande rounde\naboute syngyng pleasauntly, mery _Silenus_ daunseth, ne ther\nwanted noo fooles || too laugh at, and breuely, there was\neuerye thynge that coulde delyght any sence of ma but\nemongist all these, _Tantalus_ sytteth all sadde, syghyng,\nand vnquiet with hym selfe, neither laughing nor yet\ntouching such thynges as were set before hym _SPVDE._ What\nwas the cause? _HED._ Over his head as he sate there haged\nby an heere a great stone euer lyke too fall. _SPV._ I\nwoulde then haue conueied my selfe from suche a table.\n_HEDO_ But his vowe had bound hym too the contrarye, for\nIupyter is not so easye too intreate as oure _GOD_, which\ndooeth vnloose the pernitious vowes of menne, that bee made\ncontrary vnto his holy woord, if thei bee ||F.iii.|| penitent\nand sorye therfore, or elles it myght bee thus, the same\nstoone that woulde not suffer hym too eate, would neither\nsuffer hym to ryse, for if he had but ones moued he shuld\nhaue been quashed al in peeses with the fall thereof.\n_SPVDE._ You haue shewed a very mery fable _HEDON._ But nowe\nheare that thing, which you wil not laugh at: the commune\npeople seeke too haue a pleasaunt life in outwarde thynges,\nwhere as noothyng can yeoue that, but onely a constant and a\nquiet mind: for surely a far heuier stone hangeth ouer these\nthat grudge with them selues, then hanged ouer _Tantalus_:\nit only hangeth not ouer them, but greueth and || oppresseth\nthe mynde, ne the mind is not troubled wyth any vayn hoope,\nbut looketh euery houre to bee caste in too the paynes of\nhell, I praye you what can bee so pleasaunt emongist all\nthinges that bee yeouen vnto man, that coulde reioyse the\nmynde, whyche were oppressed wyth suche a stoone?\n_SPVDE._ Truely there is nothyng but madnes, or elles\nincredulitie. _HEDO._ Yf younge menne woulde weygh these\nthynges, that bee quyckly prouoked and entised with pleasure\nas it were wyth the cuppe of _Circes_, whiche in steade of\ntheyr greatest pleasures receiue poysone myxte with honye.\nHowe circumspecte would they bee too doo anye thynge\n||F.iiii|| vnaduisedly that shoulde grudge their mindes\nafterward? What thinge is it that thei would not doo too\nhaue suche a godly treasure in store against their latter\ndaies? that is a minde knowyng it selfe cleane & honest and\na name that hath not been defiled at any time. But what\nthyng now is more miserable then is agee? Whan it beholdeth,\nand loketh backward on thinges that be past seeth plainly\nwith great grudg of conscience howe fayre thynges he hathe\ndespiced and sette lyght by, (that is, howe farre he hath\ndiscented and gone astray from the promyses made vnto God in\nbaptime) & agayn, how foule & noughty thiges he hath clipped\nand enbraced, and wha || hee looketh forwarde, hee seeth\nthen the daye of iudgemente drawe neere, and shortely after\nthe eternall punyshemente of of hell. _SPVDE._ I esteme\ntheim most happie whych haue neuer defyled theyr youthe,\nbut euer haue increased in vertu, til thei haue coomne vnto\nthe last puincte of age. _HEDO._ Next them thei ar too bee\ncommended that haue wythdrawne theim selues from the folie\nof youth in tyme. _SPVDE._ But what councel wil you yeoue\nagee that is in suche great myserie. _HEDO._ No man shoulde\ndispayre so long as life endureth, I wyl exhorte him to\nflee for helpe vnto the infinitie mercye & gentilnes of God.\n_SP._ But the longer that he hath liued || the heape of his\nsynnes hath euer waxen greate and greater, so that nowe it\npasseth the nomber of the sandes in the sea, _HE_ But the\nmercies of our lord far excede those sades, for although the\nsande can not bee numbred of manne, yet hit hath an ende,\nbut the mercie of God neither knoweth ende, ne measure.\n_SP._ Yea but he hath no space that shall dye by and by,\n_HEDONI._ The lesse tyme he hath the more feruetly he should\ncal vnto god for grace, that thyng is long inough before\nGod, whiche is of suche power as too ascende from the yearth\nvnto heaue, for a short prayer forsoth streght entreth\nheaue, if it bee made with a vehemet spirit. It is written,\nthat || ye woma synner spoken of in the gospell did penaunce\nal her life dayes: but with how fewe wordes again did the\nthief obtain Paradise in the houre of death? If he will\ncrye with hearte and mynde, God haue mercie on me after\nthy great mercie: God wil take awaye from hym _Tantalus_\n           stone and yeoue in his hea-\n              ryng ioye and cofort\n                and his bones hu-\n                 miled throughe\n                 cotrition, wil\n                    reioyse\n                     that\n                      he\n                hath his synnes\n                   foryeouen\n                      hym.\n\n                    *FINIS.*\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n         Imprinted at London within the\n      precinct of the late dissolued house\n        of the gray Friers, by Richarde\n            Grafton, Printer too the\n                 Princes grace.\n                   the. XXIX.\n             daie of Iuly, the yere\n                 of our Lorde.\n                    M.D.XLV.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n           *       *       *       *\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n[Typographic Errors:\n  arabic numeral = unnumbered page\n    _v_ = verso (back of page)\n\nA.5 _v_\n  most blessed Testament\n    _was_ bessed\nB.5 _v_ - B.6\n  then this || saiyng.\n    _end of B.5v reads_ sai-/yng _including catchword_\nC.7 _v_\n  in too a laughter\n    _was_ in too a/a laughter _at line break_\nD.7 _v_\n  where god is present\n    _was_ where god is/is present _at line break_\nE.iii\n  it is no vertue but folishnes: but as often as thei bee punyshed\n    _was_ it is no-/vertue _at line break_\n    _and_ but as of-/often _at line break_\nE.8 _v_ - F.i\n  rather prouoke euil desires || then remedy them\n    _end of E.8v reads_ the/reme _including catchword_\nF.i _v_\n  to colour and set furth the preceptes\n    _was_ set-/furth _at line break_\nF.ii _v_\n  breuely, there was\n    _was_ breuely, there/there was _at line break_\n\nIrregularities in text (not changed):\n\nD.5\n  the two staues wherevpon age is stayed\n    _text reads_ ...where-/vpon _at line break_\n\nD.6\n  oure moost foo & mortal enemie\n    _unchanged_: ?fool (foul)\n\n\nMismatched catchwords (text uses second form):\n\nC.iiii - C.iiii _v_\n    [bee] || be\nC.7 _v_ - C.8\n    [done] || doone\nD.iiii _v_ - D.5\n    [hym] || it\nD.8 - D.8 _v_\n    [ioye] || ioy\nD.8 _v_ - E.i\n    [I] || (I...\nE.ii _v_ - E.iii\n    [life] || lyfe\nE.iii _v_ - E.iiii\n    [nowe] || now\nE.iiii - E.iiii _v_\n    plea-[sure] || sures\nE.5 - E.5 _v_\n    [fyndeth] || findeth\nE.7 - E.7 _v_\n    [deyntie] || deintye\nF.iiii - F.iiii _v_\n    [he] || hee\nF.5 - V.5 _v_\n    [the] || [ye] ]","title":"A Very Pleasaunt & Fruitful Diologe Called the Epicure","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":11702}