ow
yourselves scions worthy of so flourishing a tree, lest, as the birds
Halcyones, which exceed in whiteness, I hatch young ones that surpass
in blackness. Climb not, my sons: aspiring pride is a vapor that
ascendeth high, but soon turneth to smoke; they which stare at the
stars stumble upon stones, and such as gaze at the sun (unless they be
eagle-eyed) fall blind. Soar not with the hobby,[1] lest you fall with
the lark, nor attempt not with Phaeton, lest you drown with Icarus.
Fortune, when she wills you to fly, tempers your plumes with wax; and
therefore either sit still and make no wing, or else beware the sun,
and hold Daedalus' axiom authentical, _medium tenere tutissimum_. Low
shrubs have deep roots, and poor cottages great patience. Fortune
looks ever upward, and envy aspireth to nestle with dignity. Take
heed, my sons, the mean is sweetest melody; where strings high
stretched, either soon crack, or quickly grow out of tune. Let your
country's care be your heart's content, and think that you are not
born for yourselves, but to level your thoughts to be loyal to your
prince, careful for the common weal, and faithful to your friends; so
shall France say, 'These men are as excellent in virtues as they be
exquisite in features.' O my sons, a friend is a precious jewel,
within whose bosom you may unload your sorrows and unfold your
secrets, and he either will relieve with counsel, or persuade with
reason: but take heed in the choice: the outward show makes not the
inward man, nor are the dimples in the face the calendars of truth.
When the liquorice leaf looketh most dry, then it is most wet: when
the shores of Lepanthus are most quiet, then they forepoint a storm.
The Baaran leaf the more fair it looks, the more infectious it is, and
in the sweetest words is oft hid the most treachery. Therefore, my
sons, choose a friend as the Hyperborei do the metals, sever them from
the ore with fire, and let them not bide the stamp before they be
current: so try and then trust, let time be touchstone of friendship,
and then friends faithful lay them up for jewels. Be valiant, my sons,
for cowardice is the enemy to honor; but not too rash, for that is an
extreme. Fortitude is the mean, and that is limited within bonds, and
prescribed with circumstance. But above all," and with that he fetched
a deep sigh, "beware of love, for it is far more perilous than
pleasant, and yet, I tell you, it allureth as ill as the Sirens. O my
sons,