Genealogies of Roman Clans and Families

A decorative horizontal woodcut border features intricate scrollwork, stylized foliage, and a central circular medallion containing a human face or mask.

I remember that you understood that noble saying well: good names do not become bad by not calling them. But do you really intend to call me as a guarantor? I therefore send what I see can no longer be owed to you: the genealogies of Roman families by our Baron, truly and indeed (as you write) agnōstō unknown/obscure. If it seems good to you, and I trust I have made this clear to you, entrust it to that Apelles of ours, Robert Estienne, to be illustrated and decorated with his own ornaments. You remember the edict of Alexander, that he would be painted by no one but Apelles, and sculpted by no one but Lysippus. The reasoning of our Alexander is the same: because, during the twelve times six months meaning 72 months, or 6 years he has been with me, he has approached the study of Roman antiquities with a fervor of spirit no less than that with which he once approached the kingdom of Asia. He desires this trophy, in this flower of his youth, which has barely reached its twentieth year, to be erected as a perpetual monument of his nocturnal studies, in such a way that it is also adorned by the craftsman’s industry. I truly hope this is only a prerogative of a future triumph, which, if God’s will brings it to pass, he will eventually carry away from an accurate and subtle explanation of Roman magistrates, once he has cast off all barbarism. If the students of our civil law were to imitate the example of this young man, I would not doubt that our Germany would shortly surpass the luminaries of Italy, which considers itself the leader in this type of praise. But there is a certain perverse habit among many young men who study Cicero by reading him constantly, so that, as the Greek proverb goes, they examine the mūs pīssēs mouse in pitch, following only the superficial ornaments and the flowers of his oration, while they neglect the treasure of Roman history that is scattered in various ways throughout his writings, plucking the flower but scorning the fruit. Yet, just as those who walk in the sun are necessarily tanned, no one can labor in digging up the memory of antiquity from Cicero without, by the same effort, acquiring purity of language and at least a moderate faculty for writing. But perhaps these are too many words, especially for you, to whom the noble virtue of this young man is known and understood. I will add only this: although he is, as they say, a eikōn d’ empsychos living image, and against the decrees of our jurists, I will swear to nothing: I prefer to augur. For the augury of Socrates in Plato’s Phaedrus regarding Isocrates comes to mind: that a certain philosophy is naturally inherent in the mind of this young man. And if it is true, as is said to have been taught by the same, that there are men to whom a golden heart is given, others to whom a silver, and others to whom a bronze, I hope that this man has been so chosen by the immortal God into the number of His own through his piety and singular modesty, that in his mature age he will be no less an ornament and protection to the most noble man, his father the Baron, and to all his Austria, than to the Church of God. Farewell, most distinguished man and most upright friend of all. Strasbourg, the Ides of August, 1558.

A decorative horizontal woodcut border identical to the one at the top of the page features scrollwork and a central mask.

Although I expected nothing but excellence from the brilliant mind of our Baron, I confess he has surpassed my expectation in both his great diligence and his judgment, which is truly not mediocre for his age. Therefore, as soon as I came to this city, there was nothing more important to me than to satisfy your request. I have kept my promise. For even I, in decorating the works of such minds, never feel I have done enough. I do not fear that I might seem not to have taken enough care for our reputation or his modesty because I encouraged him to publish this little book; rather, I trust that all who have truly felt how much it helps the full understanding of Roman history to have the genealogies of illustrious families at hand will profess that they owe much to me for this reason. As for those foreigners (you know whom I mean), there will certainly not be lacking things here that they might desire, which I do not doubt could be asked for more, and which we ourselves would have searched for had we been together. But I hope they will find here many more things which they will greatly commend for their own fairness. Whatever the case, with the verses I have placed below, I wanted to turn away all envy, as it were, and to offer good omens to our Baron. Farewell.

Rome, once the conqueror of vanquished Germany,
Pressed free necks with an unaccustomed yoke.
And not content with having struck down the fierce Quirites with iron,
She destroyed everything in her path with fire.
Thus Rome departed, burned into thin ashes,
And every work that she previously possessed, rich as it was.
Thus turned to cinders (alas, a miserable fate),
The marbles perished together with their masters.
Whose relics, and fragments cast down here and there,
Barbaric ages followed for a long time, treading them underfoot.
But now a happier age marvels in return,
At what it gathers up, grateful for the immense labor.
Indeed, it condemns the crime of the ancestors of Germany,
And would wish it had not possessed such savage hands.
And what it once did, it now heals as wounds, so that the same one
Is a physician to Latium who was previously its enemy.
Now, therefore, finally, Rome, cease to complain of the anger
And the old flames of the German soldier.
Behold, a page of flames (wonderful to say),
And a pen of the sword atones for wicked deeds:
And the savage hand did not once steal away so many of your citizens,
As the learned hand now offers back to you.