abasshid for that he supposid not that he was not displesid in that he had lost his sight/ And saynt Anthonye answerd to hym I meruayle moche that hit displesith the that thou hast lost that thynge whiche is comyn betwene the and bestes.  And thou knowest well that thou hast not loste that thynge that is comyn bitwene the and the angellis And for thise causes forsayd the philosopher entended to put away alle pensisnes and thoughtes/ and to thinke only on this playe as shall be said & appere in this book after.

BOOK II.

[Illustration]

The seconde tractate/ the first chapiter treteth of the forme of a kynge of his maners and of his estate.

The kynge must be thus maad.  For he must sitte in a chayer clothed in purpure/ crowned on his heed in his ryght hand a ceptre and in the lyfte hande an apple of gold/.  For he is the most grettest and hyest in dignyte aboue alle other and most worthy.  And that is signefyed by the corone/.  For the glorye of the peple is the dignite of the kynge/ And aboue all other the kynge ought to be replenysshid with vertues and of grace/ and thys signefieth the purpure.  For in lyke wyse as the robes of purpure maketh fayr & enbelysshith the body/ the same wise vertues maketh the sowle/ he ought alleway thenke on the gouernement of the Royame and who hath thadmynystracion of Justice/ And thys shuld be by hym self pryncipally.  This signefieth the appell of gold that he holdeth in his lyfte honde/ And for as moche as hit apperteyneth unto hym to punysshe the rebelles hath he y’e sceptre in his right hand And for as moche as mysericorde and trouthe conserue and kepe the kynge in his trone/ Therfore ought a kynge to be mercyfull and debonayr For whan a kynge or prynce desired or will be belouyd of his peple late hym be gouerned by debonarite And valerius saith that debonairte percyth the hertes of straungers and amolisshith and maketh softe the hertes of his enemyes/ wherof he reherceth that philostratus that was due of athenes had a doughter/ whom a man louyd so ardantly/ that on a tyme as he sawe her wyth her moder/ sodaynly he cam and kyssed her/ wherof the moder was so angry and soroufull that she wente and requyred of her lord the duc/ that his heed myght be smyten of/ The prynce answerd to her and sayde/ yf we shold slee them that loue us/ what shall we doo to our enemyes that hate us/ Certaynly this was thanswer of a noble & debonair prynce That suffred that villonye don to his doughter and to hymself yet more This prince had also a frende that was named Arispe that sayd on a tyme as moche villonye unto the prynce as ony man miht saye And that might not suffise hym/ but he scracchid hym in the visage/ The prynce suffryd hym paciently in suche wyse as thowh he had doon to hym no vilonye but curtoysye And whan his sones wold haue auengid this vilonye/ he comanded them that they shold not be so hardy so to do The next day folowyng arispe