wounded, and felled to the ground, was taken up senseless, and carried away prisoner, with fifty of his companions. There was a deep natural cave into which the Spartans used to cast headlong such as were condemned to die for the greatest offences. To this punishment were Aristomenes and his companions adjudged. All the rest of these poor men died with their falls; Aristomenes (howsoever it came to pass) took no harm. Yet it was harm enough to be imprisoned in a deep dungeon, among dead carcases, where he was like to perish through hunger and stench. But after a while he perceived by some small glimmering of light (which perhaps came in at the top) a fox that was gnawing upon a dead body. Hereupon he bethought himself, that this beast must needs know some way to enter the place and get out. For which cause he made shift to lay hold upon it, and catching it by the tail with one hand, saved himself from biting with the other hand, by thrusting his coat into the mouth of it. So letting it creep whither it would, he followed, holding it as his guide, until the way was too strait for him, and then dismissed it. The fox being loose ran through a hole, at which came in a little light; and there did Aristomenes delve so long with his nails, that at last he clawed out his passage. When some fugitives of Messene brought word to Sparta that Aristomenes had returned home, their tale sounded alike, as if they had said, that a dead man was revived. But when the Corinthian forces, that came to help the Lacedæmonians in the siege of Era, were cut to pieces, their captains slain, and their camp taken; then was it easily believed that Aristomenes was alive indeed.

History of the World, ii.

V.

The first and second year's expedition was very grievous to the city of Athens. For the fields were wasted, the trees cut down, the country people driven to fly with their wives, children, and cattle into the town, whereby a most furious

pestilence grew in the city, such as before they had neither felt nor heard of. Hereunto was added the revolt of the Mitylenians in the isle of Lesbos, and the siege of Platea their confederated city, which they durst not adventure to raise, besides some small overthrows received. The Lace

dæmonians, assembling as great forces as they could raise out of Peloponnesus, did in the beginning of summer enter the country of Attica, and therein abide, until victuals began to fail, wasting and destroying all things round about. The governors of the Athenians would not suffer the people to issue into the field against them, for they knew the valour of their enemies, but used to send a fleet into Peloponnesus, which wasted as fast all the sea-coast of their enemies, whilst they were making war in Attica. So the Peloponnesians, being the stronger by land, won the town of Platea, which wanted rescue; the Athenians likewise, being more mighty by sea, did subdue Mitylene, which had rebelled, but could not be succoured from Sparta. By these proceedings in that war, the Lacedæmonians began to perceive how unfit they were to deal with such enemies; for after that Attica was thoroughly wasted, it lay not greatly in their power to do any offence equal to such harm as they themselves might and did receive. Their confederates began to set forward very slowly in their expeditions into Attica, perceiving well, that Athens was plentifully relieved with all necessaries which came by sea from the islands that were subject unto that estate, and therefore these invaders took small pleasure in beholding the walls of that mighty city, or in wasting a forsaken field, which was to them a pattern of the calamities with which their own territory was the whilst afflicted. Wherefore they began to set their care to build a strong navy, wherein they had little good success, being easily vanquished by the Athenians, who both had more and better ships, and were so skilful in sea-fights, that a few vessels of theirs durst undertake a great number of the Peloponnesians. History of the World, iii.

VI.

Now let us return back to the two armies, where they lay encamped on the river Aufidus. Varro was persuaded, that it concerned him in honour to make good his word unto the people of Rome; and since he had thus long waited in vain to get the consent of Paulus, now at length to use his own authority; and without any more disputing of the matter, to fight when his own day came. When therefore it was his turn to command, at the first break of day he began to pass the river, without staying to bid his colleague good-morrow. But Paulus came to him, and sought, as in former times, to have dissuaded him from putting the estate of his country to a needless hazard. Against whose words and substantial arguments, Terentius could allege none other than point of honour. Hannibal had presented them battle at their trenches; should they endure this bravado ? He had sent his Numidians over the river but even the day before, who fell upon the Romans that were fetching water to the lesser camp; and drave them shamefully from within their defences, which also they made offer to assail; must this also be suffered? He could not endure it, for it could not but weaken the spirit of the Roman soldier, which as yet was lively, and full of such courage as promised assured victory. When Æmilius perceived that he could not hinder the obstinate resolution of his companion, he took all care, that what he saw must be done, might be done well.

History of the World, v.

VII.

It is therefore death alone that can suddenly make man to know himself. He tells the proud and insolent that they are but abjects, and humbles them at the instant, makes them cry, complain, and repent, yea, even to hate their forepast happiness. He takes the account of the rich and proves him

a beggar, a naked beggar, which hath interest in nothing but in the gravel that fills his mouth. He holds a glass before the eyes of the most beautiful, and makes them see therein their deformity and rottenness, and they acknowledge it.

O eloquent, just, and mighty Death! whom none could advise thou hast persuaded; what none hath dared, thou hast done; and whom all the world hath flattered, thou only hast cast out of the world and despised; thou hast drawn together all the far-stretched greatness, all the pride, cruelty, and ambition of man, and covered it all over with these two narrow words, Hic jacet.

History of the World, v.

LORD BACON.

I.

1561-1626.

ABOUT this time in autumn, towards the end of September, there began and reigned in the city, and other parts of the kingdom, a disease then new, which, by the accidents and manner thereof, they called the sweating sickness. This disease had a swift course, both in the sick body, and in the time and period of the lasting thereof; for they that were taken with it, upon four and twenty hours escaping, were thought almost assured. And as to the time of the malice and reign of the disease ere it ceased, it began about the one and twentieth of September, and cleared up before the end of October, insomuch that it was no hindrance to the king's coronation, which was the last of October; nor, which was more, to the holding of the parliament, which began but seven days after. It was a pestilent fever, but as it seemeth, not seated in the veins or humours, for that there followed no carbuncle, no purple or livid spots, or the like, the mass of the body being not tainted; only a malign vapour flew to the

heart, and seized the vital spirits, which stirred nature to strive to send it forth by an extreme sweat. And it appeared by experience, that this disease was rather a surprise of nature than obstinate to remedies, if it were in time looked unto. For if the patient were kept in an equal temper, both for clothes, fire, and drink, moderately warm, with temperate cordials, whereby Nature's work were neither irritated by heat, nor turned back by cold, he commonly recovered. But infinite persons died suddenly of it, before the manner of the cure and attendance was known. conceived not to be an epidemic disease, but to proceed from a malignity in the constitution of the air, gathered by the predispositions of seasons; and the speedy cessation declared as much.

It was

Life of King Henry VII.

II.

The use of this feigned history hath been to give some shadow of satisfaction to the mind of man in those points wherein the nature of things doth deny it, the world being in proportion inferior to the soul; by reason thereof there is, agreeable to the spirit of man, a more ample greatness, a more exact goodness, and a more absolute variety than can be found in the nature of things. Therefore, because the acts or events of true history have not that magnitude which satisfieth the mind of man, poesy feigneth acts and events, greater and more heroical: because true history propoundeth the successes and issues of actions not so agreeable to the merits of virtue and vice, therefore poesy feigns them more just in retribution, and more according to revealed providence : because true history representeth actions and events more ordinary, and less interchanged; therefore poesy endueth them with more rareness, and more unexpected and alternative variations: so as it appeareth that poesy serveth