and not to his ancles, to his feet and not to his shoulders; because speed and celerity is required, not so much in the first preparations for war, as in those things which second and yield aid to the first; for there is no error in war more frequent than that prosecutions and subsidiary forces do fail to answer the alacrity of the first onsets.

Now for that helmet which Pluto gave him, powerful to make men invisible, the moral is plain; but that twofold gift of providence (to wit the shield and looking-glass) is full of mortality; for that kind of providence which like a shield avoids the force of blows is not alone needful, but that also by which the strength and motions, and counsels of the enemy are descried, as in the looking-glass of Pallas.

But Perseus albeit he were sufficiently furnished with aid and courage, yet was he to do one thing of special importance before he entered the lists with this monster, and that was to have some intelligence with the Greæ. These Greæ are treasons which may be termed the Sisters of War, not descended of the same stock, but far unlike in nobility of birth; for wars are general and heroical, but treasons are base and ignoble. Their description is elegant, for they are said to be grayheaded, and like old women from their birth; by reason that traitors are continually vexed with cares and trepidations. But all their strength (before they break out into open rebellions) consists either in an eye or in a tooth; for every faction alienated from any state contemplates and bites. Besides, this eye and tooth is as it were common; for whatsoever they can learn and know is delivered and carried from one to another by the hands of faction. And as concerning the tooth, they do all bite alike, and sing the same song, so that hear one and you hear all. Perseus therefore was to deal with these Greæ for for the love of their eye and tooth. Their eye to discover, their tooth to sow rumours and stir up envy, and to molest and trouble the minds of men. These things therefore being thus disposed and prepared, he addresses himself to the action of war, and sets upon Medusa as she slept; for a wise captain will ever assault his enemy when he is unprepared and most secure, and then is there good use of Pallas her glass. For most men, before it come to the push, can acutely pry into and discern their enemy's estate; but the best use of this glass is in the very point of danger, that the manner of it may be so considered, as that the terror may not discourage, which is signified by that looking into this glass with the face turned from Medusa.

The monster's head being cut off there follow two effects. The first was the procreation and raising of Pegasus, by which may evidently be understood Fame, that (flying through the world) proclaims victory. The second is the bearing of Medusa's head in his shield; to which there is no kind of defence for excellency comparable; for the one famous and memorable act prosperously effected and brought to pass, doth restrain the motions and insolencies of enemies, and makes envy herself silent and amazed.

A third of these expositions inserted in the De Augmentis is that entitled "Dionysus [the Greek name for Bacchus], or Passions." It is said that Jupiter's paramour, Semele, having bound him by an inviolable oath to grant her one request, desired that he would come to her in the same form in which he was accustomed to visit Juno; the result of which was that the miserable wench was consumed with lightning.

But the infant which she bare in her womb, Jupiter the father took out, and kept it in a gash which he cut in his thigh, till the months were complete that it should be born. This burden made Jupiter somewhat to limp, whereupon the child (because it was heavy and troublesome to its father, while it lay in his thigh) was called Dionysus. Being born, it was committed to Proserpina for some years to be nursed, and being grown up, it had such a maiden-face, as that a man could hardly judge whether it were a boy or a girl. He was dead also, and buried for a time, but afterward revived. Being but a youth, he invented and taught the planting and dressing of vines, the making also, and use of wine, for which becoming famous and renowned, he subjugated the world even to the uttermost bounds of India. He rode in a chariot drawn with tigers. There danced about him certain deformed hobgoblins called Cobali, Acratus, and others, yea even the Muses also were some of his followers. He took to wife Ariadne, forsaken and left by Theseus. The tree sacred unto him was the ivy. He was held the inventor and institutor of sacrifices, and ceremonies, and full of corruption and cruelty. He had power to strike men with fury or madness; for it is reported, that at the celebration of his orgies, two famous worthies, Pentheus and Orpheus, were torn in pieces by certain frantic women, the one because he got upon a tree to behold their

ceremonies in these sacrifices, the other for making melody with his harp. And for his gests, they are in manner the same with Jupiter's.

There is such excellent morality couched in this fable, as that moral philosophy affords not better; for under the person of Bacchus is described the nature of affection, passion, or perturbation, the mother of which (though never so hurtful) is nothing else but the object of apparent good in the eyes of appetite. And it is always conceived in an unlawful desire rashly propounded and obtained, before well understood and considered; and when it begins to grow, the mother of it, which is the desire of apparent good by too much fervency, is destroyed and perisheth: nevertheless (whilst yet it is an imperfect embrio) it is nourished and preserved in the humane soul (which is as it were a father unto it, and represented by Jupiter), but especially in the inferior part thereof, as in a thigh, where also it causeth so much trouble and vexation, as that good determinations and actions are much hindered and lamed thereby, and when it comes to be confirmed by consent and habit, and breaks out, as it were, into act, it remains yet a while, with Proserpina as with a nurse, that is, it seeks corners and secret places, and as it were, caves under ground, until (the reins of shame and fear being laid aside in a pampered audaciousness) it either takes the pretext of some virtue, or becomes altogether impudent and shameless. And it is most true, that every vehement passion is of a doubtful sex as being masculine in the first motion, but feminine in prosecution.

It is an excellent fiction that of Bacchus's reviving: for passions do sometimes seem to be in a dead sleep, and as it were utterly extinct, but we should not think them to be so indeed, no, though they lay, as it were, in their grave; for, let there be but matter and opportunity offered, and you shall see them quickly to revive again.

The invention of wine is wittily ascribed unto him; every affection being ingenious and skilful in finding out that which brings nourishment unto it: and indeed of all things known to men, Wine is most powerful and efficacious to excite and kindle passions of what kind soever, as being in a manner common nurse to them all.

Again his conquering of nations, and undertaking infinite expeditions is an elegant device; for desire never rests content with what it hath, but with an infinite and unsatiable appetite still covets and gapes after more.

His chariot also is well said to be drawn by tigers: for as soon as any affection shall from going afoot, be advanced to ride in a chariot, and shall captivate reason, and lead her in a triumph, it grows cruel, untamed, and fierce against whatsoever withstands or opposeth it.

It is worth the noting also, that those ridiculous hobgoblins are brought in, dancing about his chariot: for every passion doth cause, in the eyes, face and gesture, certain undecent, and ill-seeming, apish, and deformed motions, so that they who in any kind of passion, as in anger, arrogancy or love, seem glorious and brave in their own eyes, do yet appear to others mis-shapen and ridiculous.

In that the Muses are said to be of his company, it shews that there is no affection almost which is not soothed by some art, wherein the indulgence of wits doth derogate from the glory of the Muses, who (when they ought to be the mistresses of life) are made the waiting-maids of affections.

Again, where Bacchus is said to have loved Ariadne, that was rejected by Theseus; it is an allegory of special observation: for it is most certain, that passions always covet and desire that which experience forsakes; and they all know (who have paid dear for serving and obeying their lusts) that whether it be honour, or riches, or delight, or glory, or knowledge, or any thing else which they seek after, yet are they but things cast off, and by divers men in all ages, after experience had, utterly rejected and loathed.

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Neither is it without a mystery, that the ivy was sacred to Bacchus for the application holds, first, in that the ivy remains green in winter. Secondly, in that it sticks to, embraceth, and overtoppeth so many diverse bodies, as trees, walls, and edifices. Touching the first, every passion doth by resistance and reluctation, and as it were, by an Antiparistasis (like the ivy of the cold of winter), grow fresh and lusty. And as for the other, every predominate affection doth again (like the ivy) embrace and limit all human actions and determinations, adhering and cleaving fast unto them.

Neither is it a wonder, that superstitious rites and ceremonies were attributed unto Bacchus, seeing every giddy-headed humor keeps in a manner revel-rout in false religions: or that the cause of madness should be ascribed unto him, seeing every affection is by nature a short fury, which (if it grow vehement, and become habitual) concludes madness.

Concerning the rending and dismembering of Pentheus and

Orpheus, the parable is plain, for every prevalent affection is outrageous and severe and against curious inquiry, and wholesome and free admonition.

Lastly, that confusion of Jupiter and Bacchus, their persons may be well transferred to a parable, seeing noble and famous acts, and remarkable and glorious merits, do "sometimes proceed from virtue, and well ordered reason, and magnanimity, and sometimes from a secret affection, and hidden passion, which are so dignified with the celebrity of fame and glory, that a man can hardly distinguish between the acts of Bacchus and the gests of Jupiter.

We could wish to add several others; bnt we have space for only one more; that of "Orpheus, or Philosophy:

The tale of Orpheus, though common, had never the fortune to be fitly applied in every point. It may seem to represent the image of Philosophy: for the person of Orpheus (a man admirable and divine, and so excellently skilled in all kinds of harmony, that with his sweet ravishing music he did as it were charm and allure all things to follow him) may carry a singular description of Philosophy, for the labours of Orpheus do so far exceed the labours of Hercules in dignity and efficacy, as the works of wisdom excel the works of fortitude.

Orpheus, for the love he bare to his wife, snatched, as it were, from him by untimely death, resolved to go down to hell with his harp, to try if he might obtain her of the infernal powers. Neither were his hopes frustrated, for having appeased them with the melodious sound of his voice and touch, prevailed at length so far, as that they granted him leave to take her away with him; but on this condition, that she should follow him, and he not to look back upon her, till he came to the light of the upper world; which he, impatient of, out of love and care, and thinking that he was in a manner past all danger, nevertheless violated, insomuch that the covenant is broken, and she forthwith tumbles back again headlong into hell. From that time Orpheus falling into a deep melancholy, became a contemner of womankind, and bequeathed himself to a solitary life in the deserts; where, by the same melody of his voice and harp, he first drew all manner of wild beasts unto him, who, (forgetful of their savage fierceness, and casting off the precipitate provocations