Castaglione: Book of the Courtier: Book IV

THINKINGE to write oute the communication that was had the fourth night after the other mentioned in the former bookes, I feele emong sundry discourses a bitter thought that gripeth me in my minde, and maketh me to call to remembraunce worldlie miseries and our deceitfull hopes, and how fortune many times in the verie middes of our race, otherwhile nighe the ende disapointeth our fraile and vaine pourposes, sometime drowneth them before they can once come to have a sight of the haven a farr of. It causeth me therefore to remember that not long after these reasoninges were had, cruell death bereved our house of three moste rare gentilmen, whan in their prosperous age and forwardnesse of honour they most florished, and of them the first was the Lord Gaspar Pallavicin, who assaulted with a sharp disease, and more then once brought to the last cast, although his minde was of suche courage that for a time in spite of death he kept the soule and bodye together, yet did he ende his naturall course longe beefore he came to his ripe age. A very great losse not in our house onlie and to his friendes and kinsfolke, but to his Countrie and to all Lumbardye. Not longe after died the L. Cesar Gonzaga, which to all that were acquainted with him left a bitter and sorowfull remembraunce of his death. For sins nature so sildome times bringeth furth such kinde of men, as she doeth, meete it seemed that she shoulde not so soone have bereaved us of him. For undoubtedlye a man maye saye that the L. Cesar was taken from us even at the very time whan he beganne to show more then a hope of himself, and to be esteamed as his excellent qualities deserved. For with manye vertuous actes he alreadie gave a good testimony of his worthinesse, and beeside his noblenesse of birthe, he excelled also in the ornament of letters, of marciall prowesse, and of everye woorthie qualitie. So that for his goodnesse, witt, nature, and knowleage, there was nothinge so highe, that might not have bine hoped for at his handes. Within a short while after, the death of M. Robert of Bari was also a great heavinesse to the wholl house: for reason seemed to perswade everie man to take hevily the death of a yonge man of good beehaviour, pleasaunt and most rare in the beawtie of fisnamye and in the makinge of his person, with as lucky and lively towardnes, as a man coulde have wished. These men therfore, had they lived, I beleave would have come to that passe, that unto whoso had knowen them, they woulde have showed a manifest proof, how much the Court of Urbin was worthie to be commended, and howe fournished it was with noble knightes, the whiche (in a maner) all the rest have done that were brought up in it. For trulye there never issued out of the horse of Troy so many great men and capitaines, as there have come menne out of this house for vertue verie singular and in great estimation with al men. For as you knowe Sir Fredericke Fregoso was made archebishop of Salerno. Count Lewis, Bishoppe of Baious. The L. Octavian Fregoso, Duke of Genua. M. Bernarde Bibiena, Cardinal of Santa Maria in Portico. M. Peter Bembo, Secretarye to Pope Leo. The L. Julian was exalted to the Dukedome of Nemours and to the great astate he is presentlye in. The Lord Francescomaria della Roveré, Generall of Roome, he was also made Duke of Urbin: although a much more praise may be given to the house where he was brought up, that in it he hath proved so rare and excellent a Lorde in all vertuous qualities (as a man may beehoulde) then that he atteined unto the Dukedome of Urbin: and no smalle cause thereof (Ithinke) was the noble company where in daily conversation he alwaies hearde and sawe commendable nourtour. Therfore (me thinke) whether it be by happe, or throughe the favour of the sterres, the same cause that so longe a time hath graunted unto Urbin verie good governours, doth still continue and bringeth furth the like effectes. And therefore it is to be hoped that prosperous fortune will still encrease these so vertuous doinges, that the happines of the house and of the State shall not only not diminish, but rather daily encrease: and therof we see alreadye manye evident tokens, emonge whiche (I recken) the cheeffest to be, that the heaven hath graunted suche a Lady as is the Ladye Eleonor Gonzaga the newe Dutchesse.

For if ever there were coopled in one bodye alone, knowleage, witt, grace, beawtie, sober conversation, gentilnesse and every other honest qualitie, in her they are so lincked together, that there is made therof a chaine, whiche frameth and setteth furth everie gesture of herres with al these condicions together. Let us therforee proceade in our reasoninges upon the Coutyer, with hope that after us there shall not want suche as shall take notable and woorthye examples of vertue at the presente Court of Urbin, as we nowe do at the former.

It was thought therefore (as the L. Gaspar Pallavicin was wont to reherse) that the next daye after the reasoninges conteined in the laste booke, the L. Octavian was not muche seene: for manye deemed that he had gotten himself out of companye tho thinke well upon that he had to saye without trouble. Therfore whan the company was assembled at the accustomed houre where the Dutchesse was, they made the L. Octavian to be diligentlye sought for, whiche in a good while appered not, so that manye of the Gentilmen and Damselles of the Court fell to daunsynge and to minde other pastymes, supposynge for that night they shoulde have no mre talke of the Courtyer.

And nowe were they all settled about one thinge or an other, whan the L. Octavian came in (almost) no more looked for: and beehouldinge the L. Cesar Gonzaga and the L. Gaspar daunsinge, after he had made his reverence to the Duchesse, he saide smilinge: I had well hoped we shoulde have heard the L. Gaspar speake ill of women this night to, but sins I see him daunce with one, I imagin he is agreede with all. And I am glad that the controversie, or (to terme it better) the reasoninge of the Courtier is thus ended.

Not ended, I warant you, answered the Dutchesse, for I am not such an ennemye to men, as you be to women, and therfore I wil not have the Courtier bereved from his due honour and the fournimentes whiche you youre selfe promised him yester night.

And whan she had thus spoken, she commaunded them all after that daunse was ended to place themselves after the wonted maner, the which was done.

And as they stoode all wyth heedfull expectation, the L. Octavian said: Madom, sins for that I wished manye other good qualities in the Courtier, it foloweth by promise that I muste entreate uppon them, I am well willinge to uttre my minde: not with opinion that I can speake all that might be said in the matter, but only so much as shall suffice to roote that oute of your mind, which yester night was objected to me: namely, that I spake it more to withdrawe the prayses from the Gentilwoman of the Palaice, in doinge you falselye to beleave that other excellent qualities might be added to the Courtier, and with that pollicie prefarre him beefore her, then for that it is so in deede. Therfore to frame my selfe also to the houre, which is later then it was wont to be whan we beegane our reasoninges at other times, I will be breef. Thus continuinge in the talke that these Lordes have ministred, whiche I full and wholye alowe and confirme, I say, that of thinges which we call good, some there be that simply and of themselves are alwaies good, as temperance, valiant courage, helth, and all vertues that bring quietnesse to mens mindes. Other be good for diverse respectes and for the ende they be applied unto, as that the Courtier (if he be of the perfection that Count Lewis and Sir Friderick have described him) maye in deede be a good thinge and woorthie praise, but for all that not simplye, nor of himself, but for respect of the ende wherto he may be applied. For doubtlesse if the Courtier with his noblenesse of birth, comlie beehaviour, pleasantnesse and practise in so many exercises, should bringe furth no other frute, but to be suche a one for himself, I woulde not thinke to come by this perfect trade of Courtiership, that a man shoulde of reason beestowe so much studye and peynes about it, as who so will compase it must do. But I woulde say rather that manie of the qualities appointed him, as daunsing, singinge and sporting, were lightnesse and vanitie, and in a man of estimation rather to be dispraised then commended: bicause those precise facions, the settinge furth ones selfe, meerie talke and such other matters belonginge to enterteinment of women and love (althoughe perhappes manie other be of a contrary opinion) do many times nothinge elles but womannish the mindes, corrupt youth, and bring them to a most wanton trade of livinge: wherupon afterwarde ensue these effectes, that the name of Italy is brought into sclaunder, and few there be that have the courage, I will not saye to jeoparde their lief, but to entre once into a daunger.

And without peradventure there be infinite other thinges, that if a man beestow his labour and studie about them, woulde bring furth muche more profit both in peace and warr, then this trade of Courtiershipp of it self alone. But in case the Courtiers doinges be directed to the good ende they ought to be and which I meane: me thinke then they should not onlye not be hurtfull or vaine, but most profitable and deserve infinit praise. The ende therfore of a perfect Courtier (wherof hitherto nothinge hath bine spoken) I beleave is to purchase him, by the meane of the qualities whiche these Lordes have given him, in such wise the good will and favour of the Prince he is in service withall, that he may breake his minde to him, and alwaies enfourme him francklye of the trueth of everie matter meete for him to understande, without fear or perill to displease him. And whan he knoweth his minde is bent to commit any thinge unseemlie for him, to be bould to stande with him in it, and to take courage after an honest sort at the favour which he hath gotten him throughe his good qualities, to disswade him from everie ill pourpose, and to set him in the waye of vertue. And so shall the Courtier, if he have the goodnesse in him that these Lordes have geven him accompanied with readinesse of witt, pleasantnesse, wisedome, knowleage in letters and so many other thinges, understande how to beehave himselfe readilye in all occurentes to drive into his Princis heade what honour and profit shall ensue to him and to his by justice, liberalitie, valiauntnesse of courage, meekenesse and by the other vertues that beelong to a good Prince, and contrarie to them. And therefore in mine opinion, as musike, sportes, pastimes, and other pleasaunt facions, are (as a man woulde saye) the floure of Courtlines, even so is the traininge and the helping forward of the Prince to goodnesse and the fearinge him from yvell, the frute of it. And bicause the praise of weldoinge consisteth cheeflye in two pointes, wherof the one is, in chousinge out an ende that our pourpose is directed unto, that is good in deede: the other, the knowleage to find out apt and meete meanes to bringe it to the appointed good ende: sure it is that the mind of him which thinketh to worke so, that his Prince shall not be deceived, nor lead with flaterers, railers and lyers, but shall knowe both the good and the bad and beare love to the one and hatred to the other, is directed to a very good ende. Me thinke again, that the qualities which these Lordes have given the Courtier, may be a good meanes to compasse it: and that, bicause emonge manye vices that we see now adayes in manye of our Princis, the greatest are ignoraunce and self leekinge: and the roote of these two mischeeves is nothing elles but lyinge, which vice is worthelie abhorred of God and man, and more hurtful to Princis then any other, bicause they have more scarsitye then of any thinge elles, of that which they neede to have more plenty of, then of any other thinge: namely, of suche as shoulde tell them the truth and put them in minde of goodnesse: for enemies be not driven of love to to do these offices, but they delite rather to have them live wickedly and never to amende: on the other side, they dare not rebuke them openlye for feare they be punished. As for friendes few of them have free passage to them, and those few have a respect to reprehende their vices so freelye as they do private mens: and many times to coorie favour and to purchase good will, they give themselves to nothinge elles but to feede them with matters that may delite, and content their minde, thoughe they be foule and dishonest. So that of friendes they become flatterers, and to make a hande by that streict familiaritie, they speake and woorke alwaies to please, and for the most part open the way with lyes, which in the Princis minde engender ignorance, not of outwarde matters onlie, but also of his owne selfe. And this may be said to be the greatest and fowlest lye of all other, bicause the ignorant minde deceiveth himself and inwardlie maketh lies of himself. Of this it commeth, that great men, beeside that they never understande the truth of any thinge, dronken with the licentious libertye that rule bringeth with it and with abundance of delicacies drowned in pleasures, ar so far out of the way and their mind is so corrupted in seeing themselves alwaies obeyed and (as it wer) woorshipped with so much reverence, and praise, without not onlye anye reproof at all, but also gainsayinge, that through this ignoraunce they wade to an extreeme self leekinge, so that afterwarde they admitt no counsell nor advise of others. And bicause they beleave that the understandinge howe to rule is a most easye matter, and to compasse it there needeth neyther arte nor learninge, but onlye stoutenesse, they bende their minde and all their thoughtes to the maintenance of that port they kepe, thinking it the true happynese to do what a man lusteth. Therfore do some abhorr reason and justice, bicause they weene it a bridle and a certeine meane to bringe them in bondage and to minishe in them the contentation and hartes ease that they have to bear rule, if they should observe it: and their rule were not perfect nor wholl if they shoulde be compelled to obey unto dutie and honetie, bicause they have an opinion that Whoso obeyeth, is no right Lord in deede. Therfore taking these principles for a president and suffering them selves to be lead with selfe leekinge, they wexe loftie, and with a statlye countenance, with sharpe and cruell condicions, with pompous garmentes, golde and jewelles, and with comminge (in a maner) never abrode to be seene, they thinke to gete estimation and authoritie emong men, and to be counted (almost) Goddes: but they are (in my judgement) like the Colosses that were made in Roome the last yeere upon the feast day of the place of Argone, which outwardlye declared a likenesse of great men and horses of triumph, and inwardly were full of towe and ragges. But the Princis of this sort are so muche woorse, as the Colosses by their owne waightye pese stande upright of them selves, and they bicause they be yll counterpesed and without line or levell placed upon unequall grounde, throughe their owne waightinesse overthrowe them selves, and from one errour renn into infinit. Bicause their ignoraunce beeinge annexed with this false opinion that they can not err, and that the port they kepe commeth of their knowleage, leadeth of them every waye by right or by wronge to lay hande upon possessions bouldly, so they may come by them. But in case they woulde take advisemente to knowe and to woorke that that they ought, they would aswell strive not to reigne as they doe to reigne, bicause they shoulde perceyve what a naughtye and daungerous matter it were for Subjectes that ought to be governed, to be wyser then the Princis that shoulde governe. You may see that ignorance in musike, in daunsinge, in ridinge hurteth no man, yet he that is no musitien is ashamed and aferde to singe in the presence of others, or to daunse, he that can not, or he that sitteth not wel a horse, to ride: but of the unskilfulnes to govern people arrise so manie yvelles, deathes, destructions, mischeeffes and confusions, that it may be called the deadliest plagu upon the earth. And yet some princes most ignorant in government, are not bashfull nor ashamed to take upon them to govern I wil not say in the presence of foure or half a dosen persons, but in the face of the world: for their degree is sett on loft, that all eyes beehould them, and therfore not their great vices only, but their least faultes of all are continuallie noted. As yt is written that Cimon was yll spoken of bicause he loved wine, Scipo, sleepe, Lucullus, bancketinges. But wolde God, the Princis of these oure times wolde coople their vices wyth so many vertues as did they of olde time: which yf they were out of the way in any point, yet refused they not the exhortations and lessons of such as they deemed meete to correct those faultes: yea they saught with great instance to frame their lief by the rule of notable personages: as Epaminondas by Lisias of Pythagoras sect: Agesilaus by Xenophon: Scipio by Pan&elig;tius, and infinit others. But in case a grave Philosopher shoulde come beefore enie of our Princes, or who ever beeside, that wolde showe them plainlie and without enie circomstance the horrible face of true vertue and teache them good maners and what the lief of a good Prince ought to be, I ame assured they wolde abhorr him at the first sight, as a most venimous serpent, or elles they wolde make him a laughinge stocke, as a most vile matter. I saye therfore that sins nowadayes Princis are so corrupt through yl usages, ignoraunce and false self leekinge, and that yt is so harde a matter to geve them the knoweleage of the truth and to bende them to vertue, and men with lyes and flatterie and such naughtye meanes seeke to coorie favour wyth them, the Courtier by the meane of those honest qualities that Count Lewis and Sir Friderick have given hym, may soone, and ought to go about so to purchase him the good will and allure unto him the minde of his Prince, that he maye make him a free and safe passage to commune with him in every matter without troublinge him. And yf he be suche a one as is said, he shall compase yt with smalle peine, and so may he alwayes open unto the truth of everie matter at ease. Besyde this by litle and litle distille into his minde goodnesse, and teache him continencie, stoutnesse of courage, justice, temperance, makinge him to taste what sweetenesse is hid under that litle bitternesse, which at the first sight appeereth unto him that withstandeth vices: which are alwaies hurtfull, displeasant and accompanied wyth yl report and shame, even as vertues are profitable, pleasant and praisable, and enflame him to them with the examples of manie famous Capitanes, and of other notable personages, unto whom they of old time used to make ymages of mettal and marble, and sometime of gold, and to set them up in commune haunted places, aswell for the honoure of them, as for an encouragynge of others, that with an honest envie they might also endevour them selves to reach unto that glorie. In this wise maye he leade him throughe the roughe way of vertue (as it were) deckynge yt about with boowes to shadowe yt and strawinge it over wyth sightlye flouers, to ease the greefe of the peinfull journey in hym that is but of a weake force. And sometyme with musike, somtime with armes, and horses, somtyme with rymes and meeter, otherwhyle wyth communication of love, and wyth all those wayes that these Lordes have spoken of, continuallye keepe that mynde of his occupyed in honest pleasure: imprintynge notwythstandynge therin alwayes beesyde (as I have said) in companie with these flickeringe provocations some vertuous condicion, and beeguilinge him with a holsome craft, as the warie phisitiens do, who manye times whan they minister to yonge and tender children in ther sicknesse, a medicin of a bitter taste, annoint the cupp about the brimm with some sweete licour. The Courtier therefore applyinge to such a pourpose this veile of pleasure, in everie time, in everie place, and in everye exercise he shall attaine to his ende, and deserve muche more praise and recompence, then for anie other good woorke that he can do in the worlde, bicause there is no treasure that doeth so universallie profit, as doeth a good Prince, nor anie mischeef so universallie hurt, as an yll Prince. Therfore is there also in peine so bitter and cruell that were a sufficient punishment for those naughtie and wicked Courtiers, that make their honest and pleasant maners and their good qualities a cloke for an ill ende, and by meane of them seeke to come in favour with their Princis for to corrupte them and to straye them from the way of vertue and to lead them to vice. For a man may say, that such as these be, do infect with deadlie poyson, not one vessel wherof one man alone drinketh, but the commune fountain that all the people resorteth to.

The L. Octavian helde his peace as though he would have said no more, but the L. Gaspar: I can not see, my L. Octavian (said he) that this goodnesse of minde and continincie, and the other vertues whiche you will have the Courtier to showe his Lorde, may be learned: but I suppose that they are given the men that have them, by nature and of God. And that it is so, you may see that there is no man so wicked and of so ill condicions in the world, nor so untemperate and unjust, which if he be asked the question, will confesse him self such a one. But everie man be he never so wicked, is glad to be counted just, continent and good: which shoulde not be so, in case these vertues might be learned, bicause it is no shame not to know the thinge that a man hath not studied, but a rebuke it is not to have that which we ought to be indowed withal of nature. Therefore doeth ech man seeke to cover the defaultes of nature, aswell in the minde, as also in the bodie: the which is to be seene in the blind, lame, crooked and other may[m]ed and deformed creatures. For although these imperfections may be layed to nature, yet doeth it greeve ech man to have them in him self: bicause it seemeth by the testimonie of the self same nature that a man hath that default or blemishe (as it were) for a patent and token of his ill inclination. The fable that is reported of Epimetheus doeth also confirme myne opinion, whiche was so unskilfull in dividinge the gyftes of nature unto men, that he left them much more needie of everye thinge then all other livinge creatures. Wherupon Prometheus stole the politike wysdome from Minerva and Vulcan that men have to gete their livinge withall. Yet had they not for all that, civill wisdome to gather them selves into Cities, and the knowleage to live with civility, bicause it was kept in the Castle of Jupiter by most circumspect overseears, whiche put Prometheus in suche feare, that he durst not approch nygh them. Wherupon Jupiter takinge pitye upon the miserye of men, that could not felowshipp together for lacke of civill vertue, but were torne in peeces by wielde beastes, he sent Mercury to the earth to carie justice and shame, that these two thinges might fournish Cities and gather Citizins together: and willed that they shoulde be given them, not as other artes were, wherin one counning man sifficeth for manie ignorant, as phisike, but that they should be imprinted in everie man. And ordeyned a lawe, that all such as were without justice and shame, should be banished and put to death, as contagious to the Citie. Beehoulde then (my L. Octavian) God hath graunted these vertues to men, and are not to be learned but be naturall.

Then the L. Octavian somwhat smiling: Will you then, my L. Gaspar (quoth he) have men to be so unfortunate and of so pevish a judgement, that with policie they have found out an art to tame the natures of wield beastes, as beares, wolves, Lions, and may with the same teach a prety bird to fle as a man lust, and retourne back from the wood and from his naturall libertye of his owne accord to snares and bondage, and with the same pollicy can not, or will not finde out artes whereby they maye profit themselves, and with studie and diligence make their mind more perfect? This (in mine opinion) were like as if Phisitiens shoulde studie with all diligence to have the art onlie to heale fellonies in fingers and the read gumme in yonge children, and lay aside the cure of fevers, pleurisie and other sore diseases, the which how out of reason it were everie man may consider. I beleave therfore that the morall vertues are not in us all together by nature, bicause nothinge can at anye time be accustomed unto it, that is naturallie his contrarie: as it is seene in a stone, the whiche though it be cast upward ten thousand times, yet will he never accustome to go up of him selfe. Therefore in case vertues were as natural to us, as heavinesse to the stone, we shoulde never accustome our selves to vice. Nor yet are vices naturall in this sort, for then shoulde we never be vertuous: and a great wickednesse and folie it were, to punishe men for the faultes that came of nature without oure offence: and this errour shoulde the lawes committ, whiche appoint not punishment to the offenders for the trespace that is past, bicause it can not be brought to passe that the thinge that is done, maye not be done, but they have a respect to the time to come, that who so hath offended maye offende no more, or elles with yll president give not a cause for others to offende. And thus yet they are in opinion that vertues maye be learned, whiche is most true, bicause we are borne apt to receive them, and in like maner vices: and therfore there groweth a custome in us of bothe the one and the other throughe longe use, so that first we practise vertue or vice, after that, we are vertuous or vitious. The contrarie is knowen in the thinges that be geven us of nature, for firste we have the pour to practise them, after that, we do practise: as it is in the senses, for first we can see, heere, feele, after that, we do see, heere and feele: although notwithstandinge many of these doinges be also sett oute more sightle with teachinge. Whereupon good Schoolmaisters do not only instruct their children in letters, but also in good nourtour in eatinge, drinkinge, talking, and goinge with certein gestures meete for the pourpose. Therefore even as in the other artes, so also in the vertues it is behoufful to have a teacher, that with lessons and good exhortations may stirr up and quicken in us these morall vertues, wherof we have the seede inclosed and buried in the soule, and like the good husbande man, till them and open the waye for them, weedinge from about them the briers and darnell of appetites, which many times so shadow and choke our mindes, that they suffre them not to budd nor to bringe furth the happie frutes, which alone ought to be wished to grow in the hartes of men. In this sort then is naturally in everie one of us justice and shame, which (you saye) Jupiter sent to the earth for all men. But even as a bodye without eyes, how sturdie ever he be, if he remove to anie certein place, often times faileth: so the roote of these vertues that be potentiallie engendred in our mindes, yf it be not aided with teaching, doth often come to nought. Bicause if it shoulde be brought into doinge and to his perfect custome, it is not satisfied (as is said) with nature alone: but hath neede of a politike usage and of reason, whiche maye clense and scoure that soule, takinge away the dymm veile of ignorance, wherof arrise (in a maner) all the erroures in men. For in case good and ill were well knowen and perceived, every man would alwaies chouse the good and shonn the yl. Therfore may vertue be said to be (as it were) a wisdome and an understanding to chouse the good: and vice, a lacke of foresight and an ignorance that leadeth to judge falsely. Bicause men never chouse the il with opinion that it is ill, but they are deceived through a certein likenesse of good.

Then answered the L. Gaspar: Yet are there many that know plainlie they do ill, and do it notwithstanding, and that bicause thei more esteame the present pleasure which they feele, then the punishment that they doubt shall fall upon them, as theeves, murtherers and such other.

The L. Octavian said: True pleasure is alwaies good, and true sorow, evell: therfore these be deceived in taking false pleasure for true, and true sorowe for false: wherupon manye times through false pleasures, they renn into true displeasures. The art therfore that teacheth to discerne this trueth from falshood, maye in like case be learned: and the vertue by the which we chouse this good in deede, and not that which falsely appeereth to be, may be called true knowleage, and more available for mans lief, then anye other, bicause it expelleth ignorance, of the which (as I have said) springe al evelles.

Then M. Peter Bembo: I wot not, my L. Octavian (quoth he) how the L. Gaspar should graunt you, that of ignoraunce should springe all evelles, and that there be not manye which in offendinge knowe for certeintie that they do offende, neyther are they anye deale deceived in the true pleasure nor yet in the true sorow: bicause it is sure that such as be incontinent judge with reason and uprightly, and know it, wher unto they are provoked by lust contrary to due, to be ill, and therfore they make resistance and sett reason to matche greedy desire, wherupon arriseth the battaile of pleasure and sorow against judgement. Finally reason overcome by greedie desire far the mightier, is cleane without succour, like a shippe, that for a time defendeth herself from the tempestuous Seastormes, at the end beaten with the to raginge violence of windes, her gables and tacklinges broken, yeldeth up to be driven at the will of fortune, without occupying helme or any maner help of Pilott for her safegard. Furthwith therefore commit they the offences with a certein doubtfull remorse of conscience and (in a maner) whether they will or no, the which they would not do, onlesse they knew the thing that they do to be ill, but without striving of reason would ren wholy headlonge after greedy desire, and then shoulde they not be incontinent, but untemperate, which is much woorse. Therfore is incontinencie said to be a diminished vice, bicause it hath in it a part of reason, and likewise continency an