envied the conquered.  The sacerdotal office which thou madest suit to me for, I conferred upon thee, after having denied it to others, whose fathers have ever borne arms in my service.  After so many obligations, thou hast undertaken to kill me.”  At which Cinna crying out that he was very far from entertaining any so wicked a thought:  “Thou dost not keep thy promise, Cinna,” continued Augustus, “that thou wouldst not interrupt me.  Yes, thou hast undertaken to murder me in such a place, on such a day, in such and such company, and in such a manner.”  At which words, seeing Cinna astounded and silent, not upon the account of his promise so to be, but interdict with the weight of his conscience:  “Why,” proceeded Augustus, “to what end wouldst thou do it?  Is it to be emperor?  Believe me, the Republic is in very ill condition, if I am the only man betwixt thee and the empire.  Thou art not able so much as to defend thy own house, and but t’other day was baffled in a suit, by the opposed interest of a mere manumitted slave.  What, hast thou neither means nor power in any other thing, but only to undertake Caesar?  I quit the throne, if there be no other than I to obstruct thy hopes.  Canst thou believe that Paulus, that Fabius, that the Cossii and the Servilii, and so many noble Romans, not only so in title, but who by their virtue honour their nobility, would suffer or endure thee?” After this, and a great deal more that he said to him (for he was two long hours in speaking), “Now go, Cinna, go thy way:  I give thee that life as traitor and parricide, which I before gave thee in the quality of an enemy.  Let friendship from this time forward begin betwixt us, and let us show whether I have given, or thou hast received thy life with the better faith”; and so departed from him.  Some time after, he preferred him to the consular dignity, complaining that he had not the confidence to demand it; had him ever after for his very great friend, and was, at last, made by him sole heir to all his estate.  Now, from the time of this accident which befell Augustus in the fortieth year of his age, he never had any conspiracy or attempt against him, and so reaped the due reward of this his so generous clemency.  But it did not so happen with our prince, his moderation and mercy not so securing him, but that he afterwards fell into the toils of the like treason,—­[The Duc de Guise was assassinated in 1563 by Poltrot.]—­so vain and futile a thing is human prudence; throughout all our projects, counsels and precautions, Fortune will still be mistress of events.

We repute physicians fortunate when they hit upon a lucky cure, as if there was no other art but theirs that could not stand upon its own legs, and whose foundations are too weak to support itself upon its own basis; as if no other art stood in need of Fortune’s hand to help it.  For my part, I think of physic as much good or ill as any one would have me:  for, thanks be to God, we have no traffic together.