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Second BookPart III
Part III
Of Bondmen, Sick Persons, Wedlock, and divers other matters
They neither make bondmen of prisoners taken in battle, unless it be in
battle that they fought themselves, nor of bondmen`s children, nor to be
short, any man whom they can get out of another country, though he were there
a bondman. But either such as among themselves for heinous offences be
punished with bondage, or else such as in the cities of other lands for great
trespasses be condemned to death. And of this sort of bondmen they have most
store.
For many of them they bring home sometimes paying very little for them,
yea most commonly getting them gratis. These sorts of bondmen they keep not
only in continual work and labour, but also in bands. But their own men they
handle hardest, whom they judge more desperate, and to have deserved greater
punishment, because they being so godly brought up to virtue in so excellent a
commonwealth, could not for all that be refrained from misdoing. Another kind
of bondmen they have, when a vile drudge being a poor labourer in another
country doth choose of his own free will to be a bondman among them. These
they handle and order honestly, and entertain almost as gently as their own
free citizens, saving that they put them to a little more labour, as thereto
accustomed. If any such be disposed to depart thence (which seldom is seen)
they neither hold him against his will, neither send him away with empty
hands. The sick (as I said) they see to with great affection, and let nothing
at all pass concerning either physic or good diet whereby they may be restored
again to their health. Them that be sick of incurable diseases they comfort
with sitting by them, with talking with them, and to be short, with all manner
of helps that may be. But if the disease be not only incurable, but also full
of continual pain and anguish; then the priests and the magistrates exhort the
man, seeing he is not able to do any duty of life, and by overliving his own
death is noisome and irksome to other, and grievous to himself, that he will
determine with himself no longer to cherish that pestilent and painful
disease. And seeing his life is to him but a torment, that he will not be
unwilling to die, but rather take a good hope to him, and either despatch
himself out of that painful life, as out of a prison, or a rack of torment, or
else suffer himself willingly to be rid out of it by other. And in so doing
they tell him he shall do wisely, seeing by his death he shall lose no
commodity, but end his pain. And because in that act he shall follow the
counsel of the priests, that is to say, of the interpreters of God`s will and
pleasure, they show him that he shall do like a godly and a virtuous man.
They that be thus persuaded, finish their lives willingly, either with hunger,
or else die in their sleep without any feeling of death. But they cause none
such to die against his will, nor they use no less diligence and attendance
about him, believing this to be an honourable death. Else he that killeth
himself before that the priests and the council have allowed the cause of his
death, him as unworthy both of the earth and of fire, they cast unburied into
some stinking marsh. The woman is not married before she be eighteen years
old. The man is four years older before he marry.
If either the man or the woman be proved to have bodily offended before
their marriage with another, he or she whether it be is sharply punished. And
both the offenders be forbidden ever after in all their life to marry: unless
the fault be forgiven by the prince`s pardon. But both the goodman and the
goodwife of the house where that offence was done, as being slack and
negligent in looking to their charge, be in danger of great reproach and
infamy. That offence is so sharply punished, because they perceive, that
unless they be diligently kept from the liberty of this vice, few will join
together in the love of marriage, wherein all the life must be led with one,
and also all the griefs and displeasures that come therewith must patiently
be taken and borne. Furthermore in choosing wives and husbands they observe
earnestly and straitly a custom, which seemed to us very fond and foolish.
For a sad and an honest matron showeth the woman, be she maid or widow, naked
to the wooer. And likewise a sage and discreet man exhibiteth the wooer naked
to the woman. At this custom we laughed and disallowed it as foolish. But
they on the other part do greatly wonder at the folly of all other nations,
which in buying a colt, whereas a little money is in hazard, be so chary and
circumspect, that though he be almost all bare, yet they will not buy him,
unless the saddle and all the harness be taken off, lest under those
coverings be hid some gall or sore. And yet in choosing a wife, which shall
be either pleasure, or displeasure to them all their life after, they be so
reckless, that all the residue of the woman`s body being covered with
clothes, they esteem her scarcely by one hand-breadth (for they can see no
more but her face), and so do join her to them not without great jeopardy of
evil agreeing together, if anything in her body afterward do offend and
mislike them.
For all men be not so wise, as to have respect to the virtuous conditions
of the party. And the endowments of the body cause the virtues of the mind
more to be esteemed and regarded: yea even in the marriages of wise men.
Verily so foul deformity may be hid under those coverings, that it may quite
alienate and take away the man`s mind from his wife, when it shall not be
lawful for their bodies to be separate again. If such deformity happen by any
chance after the marriage in consummate and finished, well, there is no
remedy but patience. Every man must take his fortune, well-a-worth. But it
were well done that a law were made whereby all such deceits might be
eschewed and avoided beforehand.
And this were they constrained more earnestly to look upon, because they
only of the nations in that part of the world be content every man with one
wife apiece.
And matrimony is there never broken, but by death; except adultery break
the bond, or else the intolerable wayward manners of either party. For if
either of them find themselves for any such cause grieved, they may by the
licence of the council change and take another. But the other party liveth
ever after in infamy and out of wedlock. But for the husband to put way his
wife for no fault, but for that some mishap is fallen to her body, this by
no means they will suffer. For they judge it a great point of cruelty, that
anybody in their most need of help and comfort should be cast off and
forsaken, and that old age, which both bringeth sickness with it, and is a
sickness itself, should unkindly and unfaithfully be dealth withal. But now
and then it chanceth, whereas the man and the woman cannot well agree between
themselves, both of them finding other, with whom they hope to live more
quietly and merrily, that they by the full consent of them both be divorced
asunder and new married to other. But that not without the authority of the
council; which agreeth to no divorces, before they and their wives have
diligently tried and examined the matter. Yea and then also they be loath to
consent to it, because they know this to be the next way to break love between
man and wife, to be in easy hope of a new marriage. Breakers of wedlock be
punished with most grievous bondage. And if both the offenders were married,
then the parties which in that behalf have suffered wrong, be divorced from
the adulterers, if they will, and be married together, or else to whom they
list. But if either of them both do still continue in love toward so unkind a
bedfellow, the use of wedlock is not to them forbidden, if the party be
disposed to follow in toiling and drudgery the person which for that offence
is condemned to bondage. And very oft it chanceth that the repentance of the
one, and the earnest diligence of the other, doth so move the prince with pity
and compassion, that he restoreth the bond person from servitude to liberty
and freedom again. But if the same party be taken again in that fault there
is no other way but death. To other trespassers there is no prescript
punishment appointed by any law. But according to the heinousness of the
offence, or contrary, so the punishment is moderated by the discretion of the
council. The husbands chastise their wives, and the parents their children,
unless they have done any so horrible an offence, that the open punishment
thereof maketh much for the advancement of honest manners. But most commonly
the most heinous faults be punished with the incommodity of bondage. For that
they suppose to be to the offenders no less grief, and to the commonwealth
more profitable, than if they should hastily put them to death, and make them
out of the way. For there cometh more profit of their labour, than of their
death, and by their example they fear other the longer from like offences. But
if they being thus used, do rebel and kick again, then forsooth they be slain
as desperate and wild beasts, whom neither prison nor chain could restrain and
keep under. But they which take their bondage patiently be not left all
hopeless. For after they have been broken and tamed with long miseries, if
then they show such repentance, whereby it may be perceived that they be
sorrier for their offence than for their punishment, sometimes by the prince`s
prerogative, and sometimes by the voice and consent of the people, their
bondage either is mitigated, or else clean remitted and forgiven. He that
moveth to adultery is in no less danger and jeopardy than if he had committed
adultery indeed. For in all offences they count the intent and pretensed
purpose as evil as the act or deed itself, for they think that no let ought
to excuse him that did his best to have no let. They set great store by fools.
And as it is great reproach to do to any of them hurt or injury, so they
prohibit not to take pleasure of foolishness. For that, they think, doth much
good to the fools. And if any man be so sad and stern, that he cannot laugh
neither at their words, nor at their deeds, none of them be committed to his
tuition; for fear lest he would not order them gently and favourably enough,
to whom they should bring no delectation (for other goodness in them in none)
much less any profit should they yield him. To mock a man for his deformity,
or for that he lacketh any part or limb of his body, is counted great
dishonesty and reproach, not to him that is mocked, but to him that mocketh.
Which unwisely doth upbraid any man of that as a vice which was not in his
power to eschew. Also as they count and reckon very little wit to be in
him, that regardeth not natural beauty and comeliness, so to help the same
with paintings, is taken for a vain and a wanton pride, not without great
infamy. For they know, even by very experience, that no comeliness of beauty
doth so highly commend and advance the wives in the conceit of their husbands,
as honest conditions and lowliness. For as love is oftentimes won with beauty,
so it is not kept, preserved and continued, but by virtue and obedience. They
do not only fear their people from doing evil by punishments, but also allure
them to virtue with rewards of honour. Therefore they set up in the
marketplace the images of notable men, and of such as have been great and
bountiful benefactors to the commonwealth, for the perpetual memory of their
good acts, and also that the glory and renown of the ancestors may stir and
provoke their posterity to virtue. He that inordinately and ambitiously
desireth promotions is left all hopeless for ever attaining any promotion as
long as he liveth. They live together lovingly. For no magistrate is either
haughty or fearful. Fathers they be called, and like fathers they use
themselves. The citizens (as it is their duty) do willingly exhibit unto them
due honour without any compulsion. Nor the prince himself is not known from
the other by his apparel, nor by a crown or diadem, or cap of maintenance,
but by a little sheaf of corn carried before him. And so a taper of wax is
borne before the bishop, whereby only he is known. They have but few laws.
For to people so instruct and institute very few do suffice. Yea this thing
they chiefly reprove among other nations, that innumerable books of laws and
expositions upon the same be not sufficient. But they think it against all
right and justice that men should be bound to those laws, which either be in
number more than be able to be read, or else blinder and darker, than that
any man can well understand them. Furthermore they utterly exclude and banish
all proctors, and sergeants at the law; which craftily handle matters, and
subtly dispute of the laws. For they think it most meet, that every man
should plead his own matter, and tell the same tale before the judge that he
would tell to his man of law. So shall there be less circumstance of words,
and the truth shall sooner come to light, whiles the judge with a discreet
judgment doth weigh the words of him whom no lawyer hath instruct with
deceit, and whiles he helpeth and beareth out simple wits against the false
and malicious circumventions of crafty children. This is hard to be observed
in other countries, in so infinite a number of blind and intricate laws. But
in Utopia every man is a cunning lawyer. For (as I said) they have very few
laws; and the plainer and grosser that any interpretation is, that they allow
as most just. For all laws (say they) be made and published only to the
intent that by them every man should be put in remembrance of his duty. But
the crafty and subtle interpretation of them can put very few in that
remembrance (for they be but few that do perceive them), whereas the simple,
the plain and gross meaning of the laws is open to every man.
Else as touching the vulgar sort of the people, which be both most in
number, and have most need to know their duties, were it not as good for them,
that no law were made at all, as when it is made, to bring so blind an
interpretation upon it, that without great wit and long arguing no man can
discuss it? To the finding out whereof neither the gross judgment of the
people can attain, neither the whole life of them that be occupied in working
for their livings can suffice thereto. These virtues of the Utopians have
caused their next neighbours and borderers, which live free and under no
subjection (for the Utopians long ago, have delivered many of them from
tyranny) to take magistrates of them, some for a year, and some for five
years` space. Which when the time of their office is expired, they bring home
again with honour and praise, and take new ones again with them into their
country. These nations have undoubtedly very well and wholesomely provided for
their commonwealths. For seeing that both the making and the marring of the
weal public doth depend and hang upon the manners of the rulers and
magistrates, what officers could they more wisely have chosen, than those
which cannot be led from honesty by bribes (for to them that shortly after
shall depart thence into their own country money should be unprofitable) nor
yet be moved either with favour, or malice towards any man, as being
strangers, and unacquainted with the people? The which two vices of affection
and avarice, where they take place in judgments, incontinent they break
justice, the strongest and surest bond of a commonwealth. These peoples which
fetch their officers and rulers from them, the Utopians call their fellows.
And other to whom they have been beneficial, they call their friends. As
touching leagues, which in other places between country and country be so oft
concluded, broken and made again, they never make none with any nation. For to
what purpose serve leagues? say they. As though nature had not set sufficient
love between man and man. And who so regardeth not nature, think you that he
will pass for words? they be brought into this opinion chiefly, because that
in those parts of the words, leagues between princes be wont to be kept and
observed very slenderly. For here in Europe, and especially in these parts
where the faith and religion of Christ reigneth, the majesty of leagues is
everywhere esteemed holy and inviolable, partly through the justice and
goodness of princes, and partly through the reverence of great bishops. Which
like as they make no promise themselves but they do very religiously perform
the same, so they exhort all princes in any wise to abide by their promises,
and them that refuse or deny so to do, by their pontifical power and authority
they compel thereto. And surely they think well that it might seem a very
reproachful thing, if in the leagues of them which by a peculiar name be
called faithful, faith should have no place. But in that new found part of the
world, which is so scarcely far from us beyond the line equinoctial as our
life and manners be dissident from theirs, no trust nor confidence is in
leagues. But the more and holier ceremonies the league is knit up with, the
sooner it is broken by some cavillation found in the words, which many
times of purpose be so craftily put in and placed, that the bands can never
be so sure nor so strong, but they will find some hole open to creep out at,
and to break both league and truth. The which crafty dealing, yea the which
fraud and deceit, if they should know it to be practised among private men in
their bargains and contracts, they would incontinent cry out at it with a
sour countenance, as an offence most detestable, and worthy to be punished
with a shameful death: yea even very they that advance themselves authors of
like council given to princes. Wherefore it may well be thought, either that
all justice is but a base and a low virtue, and which abaseth itself far under
the high dignity of kings; or at the leastwise, that there be two justices,
the one meet for the inferior sort of the people, going afoot and creeping
below on the ground, and bound down on every side with many bands because it
shall not run at rovers; the other a princely virtue, which like as it is of
much higher majesty than the other poor justice, so also it is of much more
liberty, as to the which nothing is unlawful that it lusteth after. These
manners of princes (as I said) which be there so evil keepers of leagues,
cause the Utopians, as I suppose, to make no leagues at all, which perchance
would change their mind of they lived here. Howbeit they think that though
leagues be never so faithfully observed and kept, yet the custom of making
leagues was very evil begun. For this causeth men (as though nations which be
separate asunder, by the space of a little hill or a river, were coupled
together by no society or bond of nature) to think themselves born adversaries
and enemies one to another, and that it is lawful for the one to seek the
death and destruction of the other, if leagues were not: yea, and that after
the leagues be accorded, friendship doth not grow and increase; but the
licence of robbing and stealing doth still remain, as farforth as for lack
of foresight and advisement in writing the words of the league, any sentence
or clause to the contrary is not therein sufficiently comprehended. But they
be of a contrary opinion. That is, that no man ought to be counted an enemy,
which hath done no injury. And that the fellowship of nature is a strong
league; and that men be better and more surely knit together by love and
benevolence, than by covenants of leagues; by hearty affection of mind, than
by words.
Of Warfare
War or battle as a thing very beastly, and yet to no kind of beasts in
so much use as it is to man, they do detest and abhor. And contrary to the
custom almost of all other nations, they count nothing so much against glory,
as glory gotten in war. And therefore though they do daily practise and
exercise themselves in the discipline of war, and that not only the men, but
also the women upon certain appointed days, lest they should be to seek in the
feat of arms, if need should require, yet they never [to] go to battle, but
either in the defence of their own country, or to drive out of their friends`
land the enemies that have invaded it, or by their power to deliver from the
yoke and bondage of tyranny some people, that be oppressed with tyranny. Which
thing they do of mere pity and compassion. Howbeit they send help to their
friends; not ever in their defence, but sometimes also to requite and revenge
injuries before to them done. But this they do not unless their counsel and
advice in the matter be asked, whilest it is yet new and fresh. For if they
find the cause probable, and if the contrary part will not restore again such
things as be of them justly demanded, then they be the chief authors and
makers of the war. Which they do not only as oft as by inroads and invasions
of soldiers, preys and booties be driven away, but then also much more
mortally, when their friends` merchants in any land, either under the pretence
of unjust laws, or else by the wrestling and wrong understanding of good laws,
do sustain an unjust accusation under the colour of justice. Neither the
battle which the Utopians fought for the Nephelogetes against the
Alaopolitanes a little before our time was made for any other cause, but that
the Nephelogete merchantmen, as the Utopians thought, suffered wrong of the
Alaopolitanes, under the pretence of right. But whether it were right or
wrong, it was with so cruel and mortal war revenged, the countries round about
joining their help and power to the puissance and malice of both parties, that
most flourishing and wealthy peoples, being some of them shrewdly shaken, and
some of them sharply beaten, the mischiefs were not finished nor ended, until
the Alaopolitanes at the last were yielded up as bondmen into the jurisdiction
of the Nephelogetes. For the Utopians fought not this war for themselves. And
yet the Nephelogetes before the war, when the Alaopolitanes flourished in
wealth, were nothing to be compared with them. So eagerly the Utopians
prosecute the injuries done to their friends, yea, in money matters; and not
their own likewise. For if they by cunning or guile be defrauded of their
goods, so that no violence be done to their bodies, they wreak their anger by
abstaining from occupying with that nation, until they have made satisfaction.
Not for because they set less store by their own citizens, than by their
friends; but that they take the loss of their friends` money more heavily than
the loss of their own. Because that their friends` merchantmen, forasmuch as
that they lose is their own private goods, sustain great damage by the loss.
But their own citizens lose nothing but of the common goods, and of that
which was at home plentiful and almost superfluous, else had it not been sent
forth. Therefore no man feeleth the loss. And for this cause they think it
too cruel an act, to revenge that loss with the death of many, the
incommodity of the which loss no man feeleth neither in his life, neither in
his living. But if it chance that any of their men in any other country be
maimed or killed, whether it be done by a common or a private counsel,
knowing and trying out the truth of the matter by their ambassadors, unless
the offenders be rendered unto them in recompense of the injury, they will
not be appeased; but incontinent they proclaim war against them. The
offenders yielded, they punish either with death or with bondage. They be not
only sorry, but also ashamed to achieve the victory with much bloodshed,
counting it great folly to buy precious wares too dear. They rejoice and
avaunt themselves, if they vanguish and oppress their enemies by craft and
deceit. And for that act they make a general triumph, and as if the matter
were manfully handled, they set up a pillar of stone in the place where they
so vanquished their enemies, in token of the victory. For then they glory,
then they boast and crack that they have played the men indeed, when they
have so overcome, as no other living creature but only man could; that is to
say, by the might and puissance of wit. For with bodily strength (say they)
bears, lions, boars, wolves, dogs and other wild beasts do fight. And as the
most part of them do pass us in strength and fierce courage, so in wit and
reason we be much stronger than they all. Their chief and principal purpose
in war, is to obtain that thing, which if they had before obtained, they
would not have moved battle. But if that be not possible, they take so cruel
vengeance of them, which be in the fault, that ever after they be afraid to
do the like. This is their chief and principal intent, which they immediately
and first of all prosecute, and set forward. But yet so, that they be more
circumspect in avoiding and eschewing jeopardies, than they be desirous of
praise and renown. Therefore immediately after that war is once solemnly
denounced, they procure many proclamations signed with their own common seal
to be set up privily at one time in their enemies` land, in places most
frequented. In these proclamations they promise great rewards to him that
will kill their enemies` prince, and somewhat less gifts, but them very great
also, for every head of them, whose names be in the said proclamations
contained. They be those whom they count their chief adversaries, next unto
the prince. Whatsoever is prescribed unto him that killeth any of the
proclaimed persons, that is doubled to him that bringeth any of the same to
them alive; yea, and to the proclaimed persons themselves, if they will
change their minds and come into them, taking their parts, they proffer the
same great rewards with pardon and surety of their lives. Therefore it
quickly cometh to pass that they have all other men in suspicion, and be
unfaithful and mistrusting among themselves one to another, living in great
fear, and in no less jeopardy. For it is well known, that divers times the
most part of them (and specially the prince himself) hath been betrayed of
them, in whom they put their most hope and trust. So that there is no manner
of act nor deed that gifts and rewards do not enforce men unto. And in rewards
they keep no measure. But remembering and considering into how great hazard
and jeopardy they call them, endeavour themselves to recompense the greatness
of the danger with like great benefits. And therefore they promise not only
wonderful great abundance of gold, but also lands of great revenues lying in
most safe places among their friends. And their promises they perform
faithfully without any fraud or deceit. This custom of buying and selling
adversaries among other people is disallowed, as a cruel act of a base and a
cowardish mind. But they in this behalf think themselves much praiseworthy, as
who like wise men by this means despatch great wars without any battle or
skirmish. Yea they count it also a deed of pity and mercy, because that by the
death of a few offenders the lives of a great number of innocents, as well of
their own men as also of their enemies, be ransomed and saved, which in
fighting should have been slain. For they do no less pity the base and common
sort of their enemies` people, than they do their own; knowing that they be
driven to war against their wills by the furious madness of their princes and
heads. If by none of these means the matter go forward as they would have it,
then they procure occasions of debate and dissension to be spread among their
enemies. As by bringing the prince`s brother, or some of the noblemen, in hope
to obtain the kingdom. If this way prevail not, then they raise up the people
that be next neighbours and borderers to their enemies, and them they set in
their necks under the colour of some old title of right, such as kings do
never lack. To them they promise their help and aid in their war. And as for
money they give them abundance. But of their own citizens they send to them
few or none. Whom they make so much of and love so entirely, that they would
not be willing to change any of them for their adversary`s prince. But their
gold and silver, because they keep it all for this only purpose, they lay it
out frankly and freely; as who should live even as wealthily, if they had
bestowed it every penny. Yea, and besides their riches, which they keep at
home, they have also an infinite treasure abroad, by reason that (as I said
before) many nations be in their debt. Therefore they hire soldiers out of all
countries and send them to battle, but chiefly of the Zapoletes. This people
is five hundred miles from Utopia eastward. They be hideous, savage and
fierce, dwelling in wild woods and high mountains, where they were bred and
brought up. They be of an hard nature, able to abide and sustain heat, cold
and labour, abhorring from all delicate dainties, occupying no husbandry nor
tillage of the ground, homely and rude both in the building of their houses
and in their apparel, given unto no goodness, but only to the breeding and
bringing up of cattle. The most part of their living is by hunting and
stealing. They be born only to war, which they diligently and earnestly seek
for. And when they have gotten it, they be wonders glad thereof. They go forth
of their country in great companies together, and whosoever lacketh soldiers,
there they proffer their service for small wages. This is only the craft that
they have to get their living by. They maintain their life by seeking their
death. For them with whom they be in wages they fight hardily, fiercely, and
faithfully. But they bind themselves for no certain time. But upon this
condition they enter into bonds, that the next day they will take part with
the other side for greater wages, and the next day after that, they will be
ready to come back again for a little more money. There be few wars thereaway,
wherein is not a great number of them in both parties. Therefore it daily
chanceth that nigh kinsfolk, which were hired together on one part, and there
very friendly and familiarly used themselves one with another, shortly after
being separate into contrary parts, run one against another enviously and
fiercely, and forgetting both kindred and friendship, thrust their swords one
in another. And that for none other cause, but that they be hired of contrary
princes for a little money. Which they do so highly regard and esteem, that
they will easily be provoked to change parts for a halfpenny more wages by the
day. So quickly they have taken a smack in covetousness. Which for all that is
to them no profit. For that they get by fighting, immediately they spend
unthriftily and wretchedly in riot. This people fight for the Utopians against
all nations, because they give them greater wages than any other nation will.
For the Utopians like as they seek good men to use well, so they seek these
evil and vicious men to abuse. Whom, when need requireth, with promises of
great rewards they put forth into great jeopardies. From whence the most part
of them never cometh again to ask their rewards. But to them that remain alive
they pay that which they promised faithfully, that they may be the more
willing to put themselves in like dangers another time. Nor the Utopians pass
not how many of them they bring to destruction. For they believe that they
should do a very good deed for all mankind, if they could rid out of the world
all that foul stinking den of that most wicked and cursed people. Next unto
these they use the soldiers of them whom they fight for. And then the help of
their other friends. And last of all, they join to their own citizens. Among
whom they give to one of tried virtue and prowess the rule, governance, and
conduction of the whole army. Under him they appoint two other, which, whilest
he is safe, be both private and out of office. But if he be taken or slain,
the one of the other two succeedeth him, as it were by inheritance. And if the
second miscarry, then the third taketh his room, lest that (as the chance of
battle is uncertain and doubtful) the jeopardy or death of the captain should
bring the whole army in hazard. They choose soldiers, out of every city, those
which put forth themselves willingly. For they thrust no man forth into war
against his will. Because they believe, if any man be fearful and
faint-hearted of nature, he will not only do no manful and hardy act himself,
but also be occasion of cowardice to his fellows. But if any battle be made
against their own country, then they put these cowards (so that they be
strong-bodied) in ships among other bold-hearted men. Or else they dispose
them upon the walls, from whence they may not fly. Thus what for shame
that their enemies be at hand, and what for because they be without hope of
running away, they forget all fear. And many times extreme necessity turneth
cowardice into prowess and manliness. But as none of them is thrust forth of
his country into war against his will, so women that be willing to accompany
their husbands in times of war be not prohibited or stopped. Yet they provoke
and exhort them to it with praises. And in set field the wives do stand every
one by her own husband`s side. Also every man is compassed next about with his
own children, kinsfolks, and alliance; that they, whom nature chiefly moveth
to mutual succour, thus standing together, may help one another. It is a great
reproach and dishonesty for the husband to come home without his wife, or the
wife without her husband, or the son without his father. And therefore if the
other part stick so hard by it that the battle come to their hands, it is
fought with great slaughter and bloodshed, even to the utter destruction of
both parts. For as they make all the means and shifts that may be to keep
themselves from the necessity of fighting, so that they may despatch the
battle by their hired soldiers; so when there is no remedy, but that they must
needs fight themselves, then they do as courageously fall to it, as before,
whiles they might, they did wisely avoid it. Nor they be not most fierce at
the first brunt. But in continuance by little and little their fierce courage
increaseth, with so stubborn and obstinate minds, that they will rather die
than give back an inch. For that surety of living, which every man hath at
home being joined with no careful anxiety or remembrance how their posterity
shall live after them (for this pensiveness oftentimes breaketh and abateth
courageous stomachs) maketh them stout and hardy, and disdainful to be
conquered. Moreover their knowledge in chivalry and feats of arms putteth them
in a good hope. Finally the wholesome and virtuous opinions, wherein they were
brought up even from their childhood, partly through learning, and partly
through the good ordinances and laws of their weal public, augment and
increase their manful courage. By reason whereof they neither set so little
store by their lives, that they will rashly and unadvisedly cast them away:
nor they be not so far in lewd and fond love therewith, that they will
shamefully covet to keep them, when honesty biddeth leave them. When the
battle is hottest and in all places most fierce and fervent, a band of chosen
and picked young men, which be sworn to live and die together, take upon them
to destroy their adversary`s captain. Him they invade, now with privy wiles,
now by open strength. At him they strike both near and far off. He is assailed
with a long and a continual assault, fresh men still coming in the wearied
men`s places. And seldom it chanceth (unless he save himself by flying) that
he is not either slain, or else taken prisoner and yielded to his enemies
alive. If they win the field, they persecute not their enemies with the
violent rage of slaughter. For they had rather take them alive than kill
them. Neither they do so follow the chase and pursuit of their enemies, but
they leave behind them one part of their host in battle array under their
standards. Insomuch that if all their whole army be discomfited and overcome
saving the rearward, and that they therewith achieve the victory, then they
had rather let all their enemies` scape, than to follow them out of array. For
they remember, it hath chanced unto themselves more than once; the whole power
and strength of their host being vanquished and put to flight, whilest their
enemies rejoicing in the victory have persecuted them flying some one way and
some another; a few of thief men lying in an ambush, there ready at all
occasions, have suddenly risen upon them thus dispersed and scattered out of
array, and through presumption of safety unadvisedly pursuing the chase, and
have incontinent changed the fortune of the whole battle, and spite of their
teeth wresting out of their hands the sure and undoubted victory, being a
little before conquered, have for their part conquered the conquerors. It is
hard to say whether they be craftier in laying an ambush, or wittier in
avoiding the same. You would think they intend to fly, when they mean nothing
less. And contrariwise when they go about that purpose, you would believe it
were the least part of their thought. For if they perceive themselves either
overmatched in number, or closed in too narrow a place, then they remove their
camp either in the night season with silence, or by some policy they deceive
their enemies, or in the daytime they retire back so softly, that it is no
less jeopardy to meddle with them when they give back, than when they press
on. They fence and fortify their camp surely with a deep and a broad trench.
The earth thereof is cast inward. Nor they do not set drudges and slaves awork
about it. It is done by the hands of the soldiers themselves. All the whole
army worketh upon it, except them that watch in harness before the trench for
sudden adventures. Therefore by the labour of so many a large trench closing
in a great compass of ground is made in less time than any man would believe.
Their armour or harness, which they wear, is sure and strong to receive
strokes, and handsome for all movings and gestures of the body, insomuch that
it is not unwieldy to swim in. For in the discipline of their warfare among
other feats they learn to swim in harness. Their weapons be arrows afar off,
which they shoot both strongly and surely, not only footmen, but also
horsemen. At hand strokes they use not swords but pollaxes, which be mortal,
as well in sharpness, as in weight, both for foins and down strokes. Engines
for war they devise and invent wonders wittily. Which when they be made they
keep very secret, lest if they should be known before need require, they
should be but laughed at and serve to no purpose. But in making them, hereunto
they have chief respect, that they be both easy to be carried, and handsome to
be moved and turned about. Truce taken with their enemies for a short time
they do so firmly and faithfully keep, that they will not break it; no, not
though they be thereunto provoked. They do not waste nor destroy their
enemies` land with foragings, nor they burn not up their corn. Yea, they save
it as much as may be from being overrun and trodden down either with men or
horses, thinking that it groweth for their own use and profit. They hurt no
man that is unarmed, unless he be an espial. All cities that be yielded unto
them they defend. And such as they win by force of assault, they neither
despoil nor sack, but them that withstood and dissuaded the yielding up of the
same, they put to death; the other soldiers they punish with bondage. All the
weak multitude they leave untouched. If they know that any citizens counselled
to yield and render up the city, to them they give part of the condemned men`s
goods. The residue they distribute and give freely among them, whose help they
had in the same war. For none of themselves taketh any portion of the prey.
But when the battle is finished and ended, they put their friends to never a
penny cost of all the charges that they were at, but lay it upon their necks
that be conquered. Them they burden with the whole charge of their expenses,
which they demand of them partly in money to be kept for like use of battle,
and partly in lands of great revenues to be paid unto them yearly for ever.
Such revenues they have now in many countries. Which by little and little
rising of divers and sundry causes be increased above seven hundred thousand
ducats by the year. Thither they send forth some of their citizens as
lieutenants, to live there sumptuously like men of honour and renown. And yet,
this notwithstanding, much money is saved, which cometh to the common
treasury; unless it so chance that they had rather trust the country with the
money. Which many times they do so long, until they have need to occupy it.
And it seldom happeneth that they demand all. Of these lands they assign part
unto them which, at their request and exhortation, put themselves in such
jeopardies as I spake of before. If any prince stir up war against them,
intending to invade their land, they meet him incontinent out of their own
borders with great power and strength. For they never lightly make war in
their own countries. Nor they be never brought into so extreme necessity as to
take help out of foreign lands into their own island.
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