Such is the amazing
diversity
of their nature,
that in the same men is found so much delight in sloth, with so much
enmity to tranquillity and repose.
that in the same men is found so much delight in sloth, with so much
enmity to tranquillity and repose.
Tacitus
For such are courted by Embassies, and
distinguished with presents, and by the terror of their fame alone often
dissipate wars.
In the day of battle, it is scandalous to the Prince to be surpassed in
feats of bravery, scandalous to his followers to fail in matching the
bravery of the Prince. But it is infamy during life, and indelible
reproach, to return alive from a battle where their Prince was slain.
To preserve their Prince, to defend him, and to ascribe to his glory all
their own valorous deeds, is the sum and most sacred part of their oath.
The Princes fight for victory; for the Prince his followers fight. Many
of the young nobility, when their own community comes to languish in
its vigour by long peace and inactivity, betake themselves through
impatience in other States which then prove to be in war. For,
besides that this people cannot brook repose, besides that by perilous
adventures they more quickly blazon their fame, they cannot otherwise
than by violence and war support their huge train of retainers. For from
the liberality of their Prince, they demand and enjoy that _war-horse_
of theirs, with that _victorious javelin_ dyed in the blood of their
enemies. In the place of pay, they are supplied with a daily table and
repasts; though grossly prepared, yet very profuse. For maintaining such
liberality and munificence, a fund is furnished by continual wars and
plunder. Nor could you so easily persuade them to cultivate the ground,
or to await the return of the seasons and produce of the year, as
to provoke the foe and to risk wounds and death: since stupid and
spiritless they account it, to acquire by their sweat what they can gain
by their blood.
Upon any recess from war, they do not much attend the chase. Much more
of their time they pass in indolence, resigned to sleep and repasts. All
the most brave, all the most warlike, apply to nothing at all; but to
their wives, to the ancient men, and to even the most impotent domestic,
trust all the care of their house, and of their lands and possessions.
They themselves loiter.
Such is the amazing diversity of their nature,
that in the same men is found so much delight in sloth, with so much
enmity to tranquillity and repose. The communities are wont, of their
own accord and man by man, to bestow upon their Princes a certain number
of beasts, or a certain portion of grain; a contribution which passes
indeed for a mark of reverence and honour, but serves also to supply
their necessities. They chiefly rejoice in the gifts which come from the
bordering countries, such as are sent not only by particulars but in the
name of the State; curious horses, splendid armour, rich harness, with
collars of silver and gold. Now too they have learnt, what we have
taught them, to receive money.
That none of the several people in Germany live together in cities, is
abundantly known; nay, that amongst them none of their dwellings are
suffered to be contiguous. They inhabit apart and distinct, just as a
fountain, or a field, or a wood happened to invite them to settle. They
raise their villages in opposite rows, but not in our manner with the
houses joined one to another. Every man has a vacant space quite round
his own, whether for security against accidents from fire, or that they
want the art of building. With them in truth, is unknown even the use of
mortar and of tiles. In all their structures they employ materials
quite gross and unhewn, void of fashion and comeliness. Some parts
they besmear with an earth so pure and resplendent, that it resembles
painting and colours. They are likewise wont to scoop caves deep in the
ground, and over them to lay great heaps of dung. Thither they retire
for shelter in the winter, and thither convey their grain: for by such
close places they mollify the rigorous and excessive cold. Besides
when at any time their enemy invades them, he can only ravage the
open country, but either knows not such recesses as are invisible and
subterraneous; or must suffer them to escape him, on this very account
that he is uncertain where to find them.
For their covering a mantle is what they all wear, fastened with a clasp
or, for want of it, with a thorn. As far as this reaches not they
are naked, and lie whole days before the fire.
distinguished with presents, and by the terror of their fame alone often
dissipate wars.
In the day of battle, it is scandalous to the Prince to be surpassed in
feats of bravery, scandalous to his followers to fail in matching the
bravery of the Prince. But it is infamy during life, and indelible
reproach, to return alive from a battle where their Prince was slain.
To preserve their Prince, to defend him, and to ascribe to his glory all
their own valorous deeds, is the sum and most sacred part of their oath.
The Princes fight for victory; for the Prince his followers fight. Many
of the young nobility, when their own community comes to languish in
its vigour by long peace and inactivity, betake themselves through
impatience in other States which then prove to be in war. For,
besides that this people cannot brook repose, besides that by perilous
adventures they more quickly blazon their fame, they cannot otherwise
than by violence and war support their huge train of retainers. For from
the liberality of their Prince, they demand and enjoy that _war-horse_
of theirs, with that _victorious javelin_ dyed in the blood of their
enemies. In the place of pay, they are supplied with a daily table and
repasts; though grossly prepared, yet very profuse. For maintaining such
liberality and munificence, a fund is furnished by continual wars and
plunder. Nor could you so easily persuade them to cultivate the ground,
or to await the return of the seasons and produce of the year, as
to provoke the foe and to risk wounds and death: since stupid and
spiritless they account it, to acquire by their sweat what they can gain
by their blood.
Upon any recess from war, they do not much attend the chase. Much more
of their time they pass in indolence, resigned to sleep and repasts. All
the most brave, all the most warlike, apply to nothing at all; but to
their wives, to the ancient men, and to even the most impotent domestic,
trust all the care of their house, and of their lands and possessions.
They themselves loiter.
Such is the amazing diversity of their nature,
that in the same men is found so much delight in sloth, with so much
enmity to tranquillity and repose. The communities are wont, of their
own accord and man by man, to bestow upon their Princes a certain number
of beasts, or a certain portion of grain; a contribution which passes
indeed for a mark of reverence and honour, but serves also to supply
their necessities. They chiefly rejoice in the gifts which come from the
bordering countries, such as are sent not only by particulars but in the
name of the State; curious horses, splendid armour, rich harness, with
collars of silver and gold. Now too they have learnt, what we have
taught them, to receive money.
That none of the several people in Germany live together in cities, is
abundantly known; nay, that amongst them none of their dwellings are
suffered to be contiguous. They inhabit apart and distinct, just as a
fountain, or a field, or a wood happened to invite them to settle. They
raise their villages in opposite rows, but not in our manner with the
houses joined one to another. Every man has a vacant space quite round
his own, whether for security against accidents from fire, or that they
want the art of building. With them in truth, is unknown even the use of
mortar and of tiles. In all their structures they employ materials
quite gross and unhewn, void of fashion and comeliness. Some parts
they besmear with an earth so pure and resplendent, that it resembles
painting and colours. They are likewise wont to scoop caves deep in the
ground, and over them to lay great heaps of dung. Thither they retire
for shelter in the winter, and thither convey their grain: for by such
close places they mollify the rigorous and excessive cold. Besides
when at any time their enemy invades them, he can only ravage the
open country, but either knows not such recesses as are invisible and
subterraneous; or must suffer them to escape him, on this very account
that he is uncertain where to find them.
For their covering a mantle is what they all wear, fastened with a clasp
or, for want of it, with a thorn. As far as this reaches not they
are naked, and lie whole days before the fire.
