Gluttons and drunkards.That gloton or dronkarde, vyle in goddes sightShall hardly escape the weyght of pouertye.Whiche drynketh and deuoureth both day and nyghtTherin onely settynge all his felycyteHis lothsome lust and his bestyalyteShall brynge vnto destruccion fynallyHis soule, his godes and his wretchyd body.
That gloton or dronkarde, vyle in goddes sightShall hardly escape the weyght of pouertye.Whiche drynketh and deuoureth both day and nyghtTherin onely settynge all his felycyteHis lothsome lust and his bestyalyteShall brynge vnto destruccion fynallyHis soule, his godes and his wretchyd body.
Within our nauy he nedes shall haue a place.Whiche without mesure on lothsome glotonySetteth his pleasure and singuler solaceHis stomacke ouerchargynge, vyle and vngodelyAnd to none other thynge his mynde doth he aplySaue depest to drynke, suche force nat of theyr soulesBut labore in rynsynge pecis cuppis and bowlesThe madnes of dronkennes is so immoderateThat greuous sores it ingendreth and sykenesIt causeth often great foly and debateWith soden deth and carefull heuynesIn thynges no difference putteth dronkennes.It febleth the ioyntis and the body withinWastynge the brayne makynge the wyt full thynIt engendreth in the hede infirmyteBlyndynge the herte wyt and discressionThe mynde it demynyssheth, coloure and beaute.Causynge all myschef, shame and abusyonIt maketh men mad, and in conclusyonCauseth them lyue without lawe or measureSuynge after syn defylynge theyr natureThe people that are acloyed with this synne.On no thynge els theyr myndes wyll aply:Saue to the wyne and ale stakes to renneAnd there as bestes to stryue and drynke auyThan ar they outher gyuyn to rybawdryOr els to brawle and fight at euery wordeThus dronkennes is the chefe cause of discordeBut namely dronkennes and wretchyd glotonyBy their excesse and superfluyteEngendreth the rote of cursed LecheryWith murder, thefte and great enormyteSo bryngeth it many to great aduersyteAnd with his furour the worlde so doth it blyndeThat many it bryngeth to a shamfull endeThis vyce (alas) good maners doth confoundeAnd maketh man ouer besy of langageAnd hym that in all ryches doth aboundeIt ofte in pryson bryngeth and in bondageIt causeth man to his great sorowe and domageDisclose his secrete and his preuey counsayleWhiche causeth hym after sore to mourne and wayleNought is more lothsome, more vycyous nor vyleThan he that is subdued to this vyceHis lyfe shortynge his body he doth defyleBereuynge his soule the ioy of ParadyseHowe many Cytees and lordes of great pryceHath ben destroyed by dronken glotonyAnd by his felawe, false loue, or lechery.The sone of Thomyr had nat ben ouercomeNor slayne by Cyrus for all his worthynes.If he hym selfe had gydyd by wysdomeAnd the vyce auoydyd of blynde dronkennesThe great Alexander taken with this madnesWith his swerde, whan he was dronken sleweSuche of his frendes as were to hym most treweI rede also howe this conquerour myghtyUpon a season played at the ChesseWith one of his knyghtes which wan ynallyOf hym great golde treasoure and rychesseAnd hym ouercame, but in a furyousnesAnd lade with wyne, this conquerour vp braydeAnd to his knyght in wrath these wordes saydeI haue subdued by strength and by wysdomeAll the hole worlde, whiche obeyeth to meAnd howe hast thou alone me thus ouercomeAnd anone commaundyd his knyght hanged to beThan sayde the knyght by right and equyteI may apele. syns ye ar thus cruellQuod Alexander to whome wylt thou apellKnowest thou any that is gretter than IThou shalt be hanged thou spekest treason playneThe knyght sayd sauynge your honour certaynlyI am no traytoure, apele I woll certayneFrom dronken Alexander tyll he be sober agayneHis lorde than herynge his desyre sounde to reasonDifferryd the iustyce as for that tyme and seasonAnd than after whan this furour was goneHis knyght he pardoned repentynge his blyndenes.And well consydered that he shulde haue mysdoneIf he to deth had hym done in that madnesseThus it apereth what great unhappynesAnd blyndnes cometh to many a creatureBy wyne or ale taken without measure.Se here the inconuenyence manyfoldeComynge of dronkennes as I wrytyn fynde.Some ar so starynge mad that none can them holdeRorynge and cryeng as men out of their myndeSome fyghtynge some chydynge, some to other kyndeNought lyuynge to them selfe: and some dotynge JohnnBeynge dronke thynketh hym as wyse as SalomonSome sowe dronke, swaloynge mete without mesureSome mawdelayne dronke, mournynge lowdly and hyeSome beynge dronke no lenger can endureWithout they gyue them to bawdy rybawdrySome swereth armys nayles herte and body.Terynge our lord worse, than the Jowes hym arayedSome nought can speke, but harkenyth what is sayd.Some spende all that they haue and more at wastWith reuell and reuell dasshe fyll the cup JoohnnSome their thryft lesyth with dyce at one castSome slepe as slogardes tyll their thryft be goneSome shewe theyr owne counsell for kepe can they noneSome are Ape dronke full of lawghter and of toyesSome mery dronke syngynge with wynches and boyesSome spue, some stacker some vtterly ar lameLyeng on the grounde without power to ryseSome bost them of bawdry ferynge of no shameSome dumme, and some speketh. ix. wordes at thryseSome charge theyr bely with wyne in suche wyseThat theyr legges skant can bere vp the bodyHere is a sort to drowne a hole nauy.
Within our nauy he nedes shall haue a place.Whiche without mesure on lothsome glotonySetteth his pleasure and singuler solaceHis stomacke ouerchargynge, vyle and vngodelyAnd to none other thynge his mynde doth he aplySaue depest to drynke, suche force nat of theyr soulesBut labore in rynsynge pecis cuppis and bowles
Within our nauy he nedes shall haue a place.
Whiche without mesure on lothsome glotony
Setteth his pleasure and singuler solace
His stomacke ouerchargynge, vyle and vngodely
And to none other thynge his mynde doth he aply
Saue depest to drynke, suche force nat of theyr soules
But labore in rynsynge pecis cuppis and bowles
The madnes of dronkennes is so immoderateThat greuous sores it ingendreth and sykenesIt causeth often great foly and debateWith soden deth and carefull heuynesIn thynges no difference putteth dronkennes.It febleth the ioyntis and the body withinWastynge the brayne makynge the wyt full thyn
The madnes of dronkennes is so immoderate
That greuous sores it ingendreth and sykenes
It causeth often great foly and debate
With soden deth and carefull heuynes
In thynges no difference putteth dronkennes.
It febleth the ioyntis and the body within
Wastynge the brayne makynge the wyt full thyn
It engendreth in the hede infirmyteBlyndynge the herte wyt and discressionThe mynde it demynyssheth, coloure and beaute.Causynge all myschef, shame and abusyonIt maketh men mad, and in conclusyonCauseth them lyue without lawe or measureSuynge after syn defylynge theyr nature
It engendreth in the hede infirmyte
Blyndynge the herte wyt and discression
The mynde it demynyssheth, coloure and beaute.
Causynge all myschef, shame and abusyon
It maketh men mad, and in conclusyon
Causeth them lyue without lawe or measure
Suynge after syn defylynge theyr nature
The people that are acloyed with this synne.On no thynge els theyr myndes wyll aply:Saue to the wyne and ale stakes to renneAnd there as bestes to stryue and drynke auyThan ar they outher gyuyn to rybawdryOr els to brawle and fight at euery wordeThus dronkennes is the chefe cause of discorde
The people that are acloyed with this synne.
On no thynge els theyr myndes wyll aply:
Saue to the wyne and ale stakes to renne
And there as bestes to stryue and drynke auy
Than ar they outher gyuyn to rybawdry
Or els to brawle and fight at euery worde
Thus dronkennes is the chefe cause of discorde
But namely dronkennes and wretchyd glotonyBy their excesse and superfluyteEngendreth the rote of cursed LecheryWith murder, thefte and great enormyteSo bryngeth it many to great aduersyteAnd with his furour the worlde so doth it blyndeThat many it bryngeth to a shamfull ende
But namely dronkennes and wretchyd glotony
By their excesse and superfluyte
Engendreth the rote of cursed Lechery
With murder, thefte and great enormyte
So bryngeth it many to great aduersyte
And with his furour the worlde so doth it blynde
That many it bryngeth to a shamfull ende
This vyce (alas) good maners doth confoundeAnd maketh man ouer besy of langageAnd hym that in all ryches doth aboundeIt ofte in pryson bryngeth and in bondageIt causeth man to his great sorowe and domageDisclose his secrete and his preuey counsayleWhiche causeth hym after sore to mourne and wayle
This vyce (alas) good maners doth confounde
And maketh man ouer besy of langage
And hym that in all ryches doth abounde
It ofte in pryson bryngeth and in bondage
It causeth man to his great sorowe and domage
Disclose his secrete and his preuey counsayle
Whiche causeth hym after sore to mourne and wayle
Nought is more lothsome, more vycyous nor vyleThan he that is subdued to this vyceHis lyfe shortynge his body he doth defyleBereuynge his soule the ioy of ParadyseHowe many Cytees and lordes of great pryceHath ben destroyed by dronken glotonyAnd by his felawe, false loue, or lechery.
Nought is more lothsome, more vycyous nor vyle
Than he that is subdued to this vyce
His lyfe shortynge his body he doth defyle
Bereuynge his soule the ioy of Paradyse
Howe many Cytees and lordes of great pryce
Hath ben destroyed by dronken glotony
And by his felawe, false loue, or lechery.
The sone of Thomyr had nat ben ouercomeNor slayne by Cyrus for all his worthynes.If he hym selfe had gydyd by wysdomeAnd the vyce auoydyd of blynde dronkennesThe great Alexander taken with this madnesWith his swerde, whan he was dronken sleweSuche of his frendes as were to hym most trewe
The sone of Thomyr had nat ben ouercome
Nor slayne by Cyrus for all his worthynes.
If he hym selfe had gydyd by wysdome
And the vyce auoydyd of blynde dronkennes
The great Alexander taken with this madnes
With his swerde, whan he was dronken slewe
Suche of his frendes as were to hym most trewe
I rede also howe this conquerour myghtyUpon a season played at the ChesseWith one of his knyghtes which wan ynallyOf hym great golde treasoure and rychesseAnd hym ouercame, but in a furyousnesAnd lade with wyne, this conquerour vp braydeAnd to his knyght in wrath these wordes sayde
I rede also howe this conquerour myghty
Upon a season played at the Chesse
With one of his knyghtes which wan ynally
Of hym great golde treasoure and rychesse
And hym ouercame, but in a furyousnes
And lade with wyne, this conquerour vp brayde
And to his knyght in wrath these wordes sayde
I haue subdued by strength and by wysdomeAll the hole worlde, whiche obeyeth to meAnd howe hast thou alone me thus ouercomeAnd anone commaundyd his knyght hanged to beThan sayde the knyght by right and equyteI may apele. syns ye ar thus cruellQuod Alexander to whome wylt thou apell
I haue subdued by strength and by wysdome
All the hole worlde, whiche obeyeth to me
And howe hast thou alone me thus ouercome
And anone commaundyd his knyght hanged to be
Than sayde the knyght by right and equyte
I may apele. syns ye ar thus cruell
Quod Alexander to whome wylt thou apell
Knowest thou any that is gretter than IThou shalt be hanged thou spekest treason playneThe knyght sayd sauynge your honour certaynlyI am no traytoure, apele I woll certayneFrom dronken Alexander tyll he be sober agayneHis lorde than herynge his desyre sounde to reasonDifferryd the iustyce as for that tyme and season
Knowest thou any that is gretter than I
Thou shalt be hanged thou spekest treason playne
The knyght sayd sauynge your honour certaynly
I am no traytoure, apele I woll certayne
From dronken Alexander tyll he be sober agayne
His lorde than herynge his desyre sounde to reason
Differryd the iustyce as for that tyme and season
And than after whan this furour was goneHis knyght he pardoned repentynge his blyndenes.And well consydered that he shulde haue mysdoneIf he to deth had hym done in that madnesseThus it apereth what great unhappynesAnd blyndnes cometh to many a creatureBy wyne or ale taken without measure.
And than after whan this furour was gone
His knyght he pardoned repentynge his blyndenes.
And well consydered that he shulde haue mysdone
If he to deth had hym done in that madnesse
Thus it apereth what great unhappynes
And blyndnes cometh to many a creature
By wyne or ale taken without measure.
Se here the inconuenyence manyfoldeComynge of dronkennes as I wrytyn fynde.Some ar so starynge mad that none can them holdeRorynge and cryeng as men out of their myndeSome fyghtynge some chydynge, some to other kyndeNought lyuynge to them selfe: and some dotynge JohnnBeynge dronke thynketh hym as wyse as Salomon
Se here the inconuenyence manyfolde
Comynge of dronkennes as I wrytyn fynde.
Some ar so starynge mad that none can them holde
Rorynge and cryeng as men out of their mynde
Some fyghtynge some chydynge, some to other kynde
Nought lyuynge to them selfe: and some dotynge Johnn
Beynge dronke thynketh hym as wyse as Salomon
Some sowe dronke, swaloynge mete without mesureSome mawdelayne dronke, mournynge lowdly and hyeSome beynge dronke no lenger can endureWithout they gyue them to bawdy rybawdrySome swereth armys nayles herte and body.Terynge our lord worse, than the Jowes hym arayedSome nought can speke, but harkenyth what is sayd.
Some sowe dronke, swaloynge mete without mesure
Some mawdelayne dronke, mournynge lowdly and hye
Some beynge dronke no lenger can endure
Without they gyue them to bawdy rybawdry
Some swereth armys nayles herte and body.
Terynge our lord worse, than the Jowes hym arayed
Some nought can speke, but harkenyth what is sayd.
Some spende all that they haue and more at wastWith reuell and reuell dasshe fyll the cup JoohnnSome their thryft lesyth with dyce at one castSome slepe as slogardes tyll their thryft be goneSome shewe theyr owne counsell for kepe can they noneSome are Ape dronke full of lawghter and of toyesSome mery dronke syngynge with wynches and boyes
Some spende all that they haue and more at wast
With reuell and reuell dasshe fyll the cup Joohnn
Some their thryft lesyth with dyce at one cast
Some slepe as slogardes tyll their thryft be gone
Some shewe theyr owne counsell for kepe can they none
Some are Ape dronke full of lawghter and of toyes
Some mery dronke syngynge with wynches and boyes
Some spue, some stacker some vtterly ar lameLyeng on the grounde without power to ryseSome bost them of bawdry ferynge of no shameSome dumme, and some speketh. ix. wordes at thryseSome charge theyr bely with wyne in suche wyseThat theyr legges skant can bere vp the bodyHere is a sort to drowne a hole nauy.
Some spue, some stacker some vtterly ar lame
Lyeng on the grounde without power to ryse
Some bost them of bawdry ferynge of no shame
Some dumme, and some speketh. ix. wordes at thryse
Some charge theyr bely with wyne in suche wyse
That theyr legges skant can bere vp the body
Here is a sort to drowne a hole nauy.
Barklaye to the Folys.
Alas mad folys howe longe wyll ye procedeIn this beestly lyuynge agayst humayne natureCease of your Foly: gyue aduertence and hedeThat in eche thynge ought to be had measureWyne ne ale hurteth no maner creatureBut sharpeth the wyt if it be take in kyndeBut if it be nat, than I the ensureIt dulleth the brayne, blyndynge the wyt and myndeRede all bokes and thou shalt neuer fyndeThat dronkennes and wysdome may togyther beFor where is dronkennes, there madnes is by kyndeGydynge the hauer to all enormyteAnd where as is madnes thou shalt neuer seReason ne wysdome take theyr abydyngeIn one instant, wherfore lerne this of meThat dronkennes is mortell enmy to cunnynge.
Alas mad folys howe longe wyll ye procedeIn this beestly lyuynge agayst humayne natureCease of your Foly: gyue aduertence and hedeThat in eche thynge ought to be had measureWyne ne ale hurteth no maner creatureBut sharpeth the wyt if it be take in kyndeBut if it be nat, than I the ensureIt dulleth the brayne, blyndynge the wyt and mynde
Alas mad folys howe longe wyll ye procede
In this beestly lyuynge agayst humayne nature
Cease of your Foly: gyue aduertence and hede
That in eche thynge ought to be had measure
Wyne ne ale hurteth no maner creature
But sharpeth the wyt if it be take in kynde
But if it be nat, than I the ensure
It dulleth the brayne, blyndynge the wyt and mynde
Rede all bokes and thou shalt neuer fyndeThat dronkennes and wysdome may togyther beFor where is dronkennes, there madnes is by kyndeGydynge the hauer to all enormyteAnd where as is madnes thou shalt neuer seReason ne wysdome take theyr abydyngeIn one instant, wherfore lerne this of meThat dronkennes is mortell enmy to cunnynge.
Rede all bokes and thou shalt neuer fynde
That dronkennes and wysdome may togyther be
For where is dronkennes, there madnes is by kynde
Gydynge the hauer to all enormyte
And where as is madnes thou shalt neuer se
Reason ne wysdome take theyr abydynge
In one instant, wherfore lerne this of me
That dronkennes is mortell enmy to cunnynge.
The rich fool and the poor man.Yet fynde I folys of another sorteWhiche gather and kepe excessyfe rychesWith it denyeng their neyghboures to conforteWhiche for nede lyueth in payne and wretchydnesSuche one by fortune may fall into distresAnd in lyke wyse after come to myseryAnd begge of other, whiche shall to hym deny.
Yet fynde I folys of another sorteWhiche gather and kepe excessyfe rychesWith it denyeng their neyghboures to conforteWhiche for nede lyueth in payne and wretchydnesSuche one by fortune may fall into distresAnd in lyke wyse after come to myseryAnd begge of other, whiche shall to hym deny.
It is great foly, and a desyre in vayneTo loue and worshyp ryches to feruentlyAnd so great laboure to take in care and payneFals treasoure to encrease and multyplyBut yet no wonder is it sertaynlySyth he that is ryche hath gretter reuerenceThan he that hath sadnes wysdom and scyenceThe ryche mannes rewardes stande in best degreBut godly maners we haue set clene asydeFewe loueth vertue, but fewer pouertye.Fals couetyse his braunches spreddeth wydeOuer all the worlde, that pety can nat bydeAmong vs wretches banysshed is kyndnesThus lyeth the pore in wo and wretchydnesWithout conforte and without auctoryteBut he only is nowe reputed wyseWhiche hath ryches in great store and plente.Suche shall be made a sergeant or JustyceAnd in the Court reputed of moste pryseHe shall be callyd to counseyll in the laweThough that his brayne be skarsly worth a straweHe shall be Mayre baylyfe or constableAnd he onely promotyd to honoureHis maners onely reputed ar laudableHis dedys praysyd as grettest of valoureMen laboure and seke to fall in his fauoureHe shall haue loue, echone to hym shall sueFor his ryches, but nought for his vertueSe what rewardes ar gyuen to rychesWithout regarde had to mannys condycyonA strawe for cunnynge wysdome and holynesOf ryches is the first and chefe questyonWhat rentes what londes howe great possessyonWhat stuffe of housholde what store of grotz and pensAnd after his gode his wordes hath credence.His wordes ar trouth men gyue to them credenceThoughe they be falsly fayned and sotellBut to the pore none wyll gyue aduertenceThough that his wordes be true as the gospellYe let hym swere by heuyn and by hellBy god and his sayntes and all that god madeYet nought they beleue that of hym is saydeThey say that the pore men doth god dispyseThouhe they nought swere but trouth and veryteAnd that god punyssheth them in suche wyseFor so dispysynge of his hye maiestyeKepynge them for their synnes in pouerteAnd theyr ryche exaltyth by his power and graceTo suche ryches, worldly pleasour and solaceThe ryche ar rewarded with gyftis of dyuerse sorteWith Capons and Conyes delycious of sentBut the pore caytyf abydeth without confortThough he moste nede haue: none doth hym presentThe fat pygge is baast, the lene cony is brentHe that nought hathe, shall so alway byde poreBut he that ouer moche hath, yet shall haue moreThe wolfe etis the shepe, the great fysshe the smallThe hare with the houndes vexed ar and fraydeHe that hath halfe nedes wyll haue allThe ryche mannes pleasour can nat be denaydeBe the pore wroth, or be he well apaydeFere causeth hym sende vnto the ryches housHis mete from his owne mouth, if it be delyciousAnd yet is this ryche caytyf nat contentThough he haue all yet wolde he haue more.And though this gode can neuer of hym be spentWith nought he departyth to hym that is poreThough he with nede harde vexed were and sore.O cursyd hunger o mad mynde and delyte.To laboure for that whiche neuer shall do profyteSay couetous caytyfe what doth it the auayleFor to haue all and yet, nat to be contentThou takest nat this sore laboure and trauayleTo thy pleasoure but to thy great turmentBut loke therof what foloweth consequentWhan thou art dede and past this wretchyd lyfeThou leuyst behynde brawlynge debate and stryfeTo many one ryches is moche necessaryWhiche can it order right as it ought to beBut vnto other is it vtterly contraryWhiche therwith disdayneth to socoure pouerte.Nor them relefe in theyr aduersyteSuche shall our lorde sore punysshe fynallyAnd his petycion rightwysly deny
It is great foly, and a desyre in vayneTo loue and worshyp ryches to feruentlyAnd so great laboure to take in care and payneFals treasoure to encrease and multyplyBut yet no wonder is it sertaynlySyth he that is ryche hath gretter reuerenceThan he that hath sadnes wysdom and scyence
It is great foly, and a desyre in vayne
To loue and worshyp ryches to feruently
And so great laboure to take in care and payne
Fals treasoure to encrease and multyply
But yet no wonder is it sertaynly
Syth he that is ryche hath gretter reuerence
Than he that hath sadnes wysdom and scyence
The ryche mannes rewardes stande in best degreBut godly maners we haue set clene asydeFewe loueth vertue, but fewer pouertye.Fals couetyse his braunches spreddeth wydeOuer all the worlde, that pety can nat bydeAmong vs wretches banysshed is kyndnesThus lyeth the pore in wo and wretchydnes
The ryche mannes rewardes stande in best degre
But godly maners we haue set clene asyde
Fewe loueth vertue, but fewer pouertye.
Fals couetyse his braunches spreddeth wyde
Ouer all the worlde, that pety can nat byde
Among vs wretches banysshed is kyndnes
Thus lyeth the pore in wo and wretchydnes
Without conforte and without auctoryteBut he only is nowe reputed wyseWhiche hath ryches in great store and plente.Suche shall be made a sergeant or JustyceAnd in the Court reputed of moste pryseHe shall be callyd to counseyll in the laweThough that his brayne be skarsly worth a strawe
Without conforte and without auctoryte
But he only is nowe reputed wyse
Whiche hath ryches in great store and plente.
Suche shall be made a sergeant or Justyce
And in the Court reputed of moste pryse
He shall be callyd to counseyll in the lawe
Though that his brayne be skarsly worth a strawe
He shall be Mayre baylyfe or constableAnd he onely promotyd to honoureHis maners onely reputed ar laudableHis dedys praysyd as grettest of valoureMen laboure and seke to fall in his fauoureHe shall haue loue, echone to hym shall sueFor his ryches, but nought for his vertue
He shall be Mayre baylyfe or constable
And he onely promotyd to honoure
His maners onely reputed ar laudable
His dedys praysyd as grettest of valoure
Men laboure and seke to fall in his fauoure
He shall haue loue, echone to hym shall sue
For his ryches, but nought for his vertue
Se what rewardes ar gyuen to rychesWithout regarde had to mannys condycyonA strawe for cunnynge wysdome and holynesOf ryches is the first and chefe questyonWhat rentes what londes howe great possessyonWhat stuffe of housholde what store of grotz and pensAnd after his gode his wordes hath credence.
Se what rewardes ar gyuen to ryches
Without regarde had to mannys condycyon
A strawe for cunnynge wysdome and holynes
Of ryches is the first and chefe questyon
What rentes what londes howe great possessyon
What stuffe of housholde what store of grotz and pens
And after his gode his wordes hath credence.
His wordes ar trouth men gyue to them credenceThoughe they be falsly fayned and sotellBut to the pore none wyll gyue aduertenceThough that his wordes be true as the gospellYe let hym swere by heuyn and by hellBy god and his sayntes and all that god madeYet nought they beleue that of hym is sayde
His wordes ar trouth men gyue to them credence
Thoughe they be falsly fayned and sotell
But to the pore none wyll gyue aduertence
Though that his wordes be true as the gospell
Ye let hym swere by heuyn and by hell
By god and his sayntes and all that god made
Yet nought they beleue that of hym is sayde
They say that the pore men doth god dispyseThouhe they nought swere but trouth and veryteAnd that god punyssheth them in suche wyseFor so dispysynge of his hye maiestyeKepynge them for their synnes in pouerteAnd theyr ryche exaltyth by his power and graceTo suche ryches, worldly pleasour and solace
They say that the pore men doth god dispyse
Thouhe they nought swere but trouth and veryte
And that god punyssheth them in suche wyse
For so dispysynge of his hye maiestye
Kepynge them for their synnes in pouerte
And theyr ryche exaltyth by his power and grace
To suche ryches, worldly pleasour and solace
The ryche ar rewarded with gyftis of dyuerse sorteWith Capons and Conyes delycious of sentBut the pore caytyf abydeth without confortThough he moste nede haue: none doth hym presentThe fat pygge is baast, the lene cony is brentHe that nought hathe, shall so alway byde poreBut he that ouer moche hath, yet shall haue more
The ryche ar rewarded with gyftis of dyuerse sorte
With Capons and Conyes delycious of sent
But the pore caytyf abydeth without confort
Though he moste nede haue: none doth hym present
The fat pygge is baast, the lene cony is brent
He that nought hathe, shall so alway byde pore
But he that ouer moche hath, yet shall haue more
The wolfe etis the shepe, the great fysshe the smallThe hare with the houndes vexed ar and fraydeHe that hath halfe nedes wyll haue allThe ryche mannes pleasour can nat be denaydeBe the pore wroth, or be he well apaydeFere causeth hym sende vnto the ryches housHis mete from his owne mouth, if it be delycious
The wolfe etis the shepe, the great fysshe the small
The hare with the houndes vexed ar and frayde
He that hath halfe nedes wyll haue all
The ryche mannes pleasour can nat be denayde
Be the pore wroth, or be he well apayde
Fere causeth hym sende vnto the ryches hous
His mete from his owne mouth, if it be delycious
And yet is this ryche caytyf nat contentThough he haue all yet wolde he haue more.And though this gode can neuer of hym be spentWith nought he departyth to hym that is poreThough he with nede harde vexed were and sore.O cursyd hunger o mad mynde and delyte.To laboure for that whiche neuer shall do profyte
And yet is this ryche caytyf nat content
Though he haue all yet wolde he haue more.
And though this gode can neuer of hym be spent
With nought he departyth to hym that is pore
Though he with nede harde vexed were and sore.
O cursyd hunger o mad mynde and delyte.
To laboure for that whiche neuer shall do profyte
Say couetous caytyfe what doth it the auayleFor to haue all and yet, nat to be contentThou takest nat this sore laboure and trauayleTo thy pleasoure but to thy great turmentBut loke therof what foloweth consequentWhan thou art dede and past this wretchyd lyfeThou leuyst behynde brawlynge debate and stryfe
Say couetous caytyfe what doth it the auayle
For to haue all and yet, nat to be content
Thou takest nat this sore laboure and trauayle
To thy pleasoure but to thy great turment
But loke therof what foloweth consequent
Whan thou art dede and past this wretchyd lyfe
Thou leuyst behynde brawlynge debate and stryfe
To many one ryches is moche necessaryWhiche can it order right as it ought to beBut vnto other is it vtterly contraryWhiche therwith disdayneth to socoure pouerte.Nor them relefe in theyr aduersyteSuche shall our lorde sore punysshe fynallyAnd his petycion rightwysly deny
To many one ryches is moche necessary
Whiche can it order right as it ought to be
But vnto other is it vtterly contrary
Whiche therwith disdayneth to socoure pouerte.
Nor them relefe in theyr aduersyte
Suche shall our lorde sore punysshe fynally
And his petycion rightwysly deny
Barklay to the Folys.
Ye great estatis and men of dignyteTo whome god in this lyfe hath sent rychesHaue ye compassion, on paynfull pouertyeAnd them conforte in theyr carefull wretchydnesGod hym loueth and shall rewarde doutlesWhiche to the nedy for hym is charitableWith heuenly ioy, whiche treasour is endelesSo shall thy riches to the be profytable.
Ye great estatis and men of dignyteTo whome god in this lyfe hath sent rychesHaue ye compassion, on paynfull pouertyeAnd them conforte in theyr carefull wretchydnesGod hym loueth and shall rewarde doutlesWhiche to the nedy for hym is charitableWith heuenly ioy, whiche treasour is endelesSo shall thy riches to the be profytable.
Ye great estatis and men of dignyte
To whome god in this lyfe hath sent ryches
Haue ye compassion, on paynfull pouertye
And them conforte in theyr carefull wretchydnes
God hym loueth and shall rewarde doutles
Whiche to the nedy for hym is charitable
With heuenly ioy, whiche treasour is endeles
So shall thy riches to the be profytable.
One hound to take two hares.A fole he is and voyde of reasonWhiche with one hounde tendyth to takeTwo harys in one instant and seasonRightso is he that wolde vndertakeHym to two lordes a seruaunt to makeFor whether, that he be lefe or lotheThe one he shall displease, or els bothe.
A fole he is and voyde of reasonWhiche with one hounde tendyth to takeTwo harys in one instant and seasonRightso is he that wolde vndertakeHym to two lordes a seruaunt to makeFor whether, that he be lefe or lotheThe one he shall displease, or els bothe.
A fole also he is withouten douteAnd in his porpose sothly blyndyd soreWhiche doth entende labour or go abouteTo serue god, and also his wretchyd storeOf worldly ryches: for as I sayde beforeHe that togyder wyll two maysters serueShall one displease and nat his loue deserueFor he that with one hownde wol take alsoTwo harys togyther in one instantFor the moste parte doth the both two forgoAnd if he one haue: harde it is and skantAnd that blynde fole mad and ignorantThat draweth thre boltis atons in one boweAt one marke shall shote to hye or to loweOr els to wyde, and shortly for to sayWith one or none of them he strykis the marke:And he that taketh vpon hym nyght or dayLaboures dyuers to chargeable of warke.Or dyuerse offycis: suche wander in the darkeFor it is harde to do well as he oughtTo hym that on dyuerse thynges hath his thoughtWith great thoughtes he troubleth sore his brayneHis mynde vnstable, his wyt alway wandrynge:Nowe here nowe there his body labours in payneAnd in no place of stedfast abydynge.Nowe workynge now musynge now renynge now rydyngeNow on see nowe on londe, than to se agayneSomtyme to Fraunce, and nowe to Flaunders or SpayneThus is it paynfull and no thynge profytableOn many labours a man to set his myndeFor nouther his wyt nor body can be stableWhiche wyll his body to dyuers chargis byndeWhyle one goth forwarde the other bydes behyndeTherfore I the counseyll for thyne owne behoueLet go this worlde and serue thy lorde aboueHe that his mynde settyth god truly to serueAnd his sayntes: this worlde settynge at noughtShall for rewarde euerlastynge ioy deserueBut in this worlde, he that settyth his thoughtAll men to please, and in fauour to be broughtMust lout and lurke, flater, lawde, and lye:And cloke a knauys counseyll, though it fals beIf any do hym wronge or iniuryHe must it suffer and pacyently endureA dowble tunge with wordes lyke honyAnd of his offycis if he wyll be sureHe must be sober and colde of his langageMore to a knaue, than to one of hye lynageOft must he stoupe his bonet in his hondeHis maysters backe he must oft shrape and claweHis breste anoyntynge, his mynde to vnderstondeBut be it gode or bad therafter must he draweWithout he can Jest he is nat worth a strawe.But in the meane tyme beware that he none checkeFor than layth malyce a mylstone in his neckeHe that in court wyll loue and fauour haueA fole must hym fayne, if he were none aforeAnd be as felowe to euery boy and knaueAnd to please his lorde he must styll laboure soreHis manyfolde charge maketh hym coueyt moreThat he had leuer serue a man in myseryeThan serue his maker in tranquylyteBut yet whan he hath done his dylygenceHis lorde to serue as I before haue saydeFor one small faute or neglygent offenceSuche a displeasoure agaynst hym may be laydeThat out is he cast bare and vnpuruayde.Whether he be gentyll, yeman grome or pageThus worldly seruyce is no sure herytageWherfore I may proue by these examples playneThat it is better more godly and plesantTo leue this mondayne casualte and payneAnd to thy maker one god to be seruauntWhiche whyle thou lyuest shall nat let the wantThat thou desyrest iustly, for thy syruyceAnd than after gyue the, the ioyes of Paradyse.
A fole also he is withouten douteAnd in his porpose sothly blyndyd soreWhiche doth entende labour or go abouteTo serue god, and also his wretchyd storeOf worldly ryches: for as I sayde beforeHe that togyder wyll two maysters serueShall one displease and nat his loue deserue
A fole also he is withouten doute
And in his porpose sothly blyndyd sore
Whiche doth entende labour or go aboute
To serue god, and also his wretchyd store
Of worldly ryches: for as I sayde before
He that togyder wyll two maysters serue
Shall one displease and nat his loue deserue
For he that with one hownde wol take alsoTwo harys togyther in one instantFor the moste parte doth the both two forgoAnd if he one haue: harde it is and skantAnd that blynde fole mad and ignorantThat draweth thre boltis atons in one boweAt one marke shall shote to hye or to lowe
For he that with one hownde wol take also
Two harys togyther in one instant
For the moste parte doth the both two forgo
And if he one haue: harde it is and skant
And that blynde fole mad and ignorant
That draweth thre boltis atons in one bowe
At one marke shall shote to hye or to lowe
Or els to wyde, and shortly for to sayWith one or none of them he strykis the marke:And he that taketh vpon hym nyght or dayLaboures dyuers to chargeable of warke.Or dyuerse offycis: suche wander in the darkeFor it is harde to do well as he oughtTo hym that on dyuerse thynges hath his thought
Or els to wyde, and shortly for to say
With one or none of them he strykis the marke:
And he that taketh vpon hym nyght or day
Laboures dyuers to chargeable of warke.
Or dyuerse offycis: suche wander in the darke
For it is harde to do well as he ought
To hym that on dyuerse thynges hath his thought
With great thoughtes he troubleth sore his brayneHis mynde vnstable, his wyt alway wandrynge:Nowe here nowe there his body labours in payneAnd in no place of stedfast abydynge.Nowe workynge now musynge now renynge now rydyngeNow on see nowe on londe, than to se agayneSomtyme to Fraunce, and nowe to Flaunders or Spayne
With great thoughtes he troubleth sore his brayne
His mynde vnstable, his wyt alway wandrynge:
Nowe here nowe there his body labours in payne
And in no place of stedfast abydynge.
Nowe workynge now musynge now renynge now rydynge
Now on see nowe on londe, than to se agayne
Somtyme to Fraunce, and nowe to Flaunders or Spayne
Thus is it paynfull and no thynge profytableOn many labours a man to set his myndeFor nouther his wyt nor body can be stableWhiche wyll his body to dyuers chargis byndeWhyle one goth forwarde the other bydes behyndeTherfore I the counseyll for thyne owne behoueLet go this worlde and serue thy lorde aboue
Thus is it paynfull and no thynge profytable
On many labours a man to set his mynde
For nouther his wyt nor body can be stable
Whiche wyll his body to dyuers chargis bynde
Whyle one goth forwarde the other bydes behynde
Therfore I the counseyll for thyne owne behoue
Let go this worlde and serue thy lorde aboue
He that his mynde settyth god truly to serueAnd his sayntes: this worlde settynge at noughtShall for rewarde euerlastynge ioy deserueBut in this worlde, he that settyth his thoughtAll men to please, and in fauour to be broughtMust lout and lurke, flater, lawde, and lye:And cloke a knauys counseyll, though it fals be
He that his mynde settyth god truly to serue
And his sayntes: this worlde settynge at nought
Shall for rewarde euerlastynge ioy deserue
But in this worlde, he that settyth his thought
All men to please, and in fauour to be brought
Must lout and lurke, flater, lawde, and lye:
And cloke a knauys counseyll, though it fals be
If any do hym wronge or iniuryHe must it suffer and pacyently endureA dowble tunge with wordes lyke honyAnd of his offycis if he wyll be sureHe must be sober and colde of his langageMore to a knaue, than to one of hye lynage
If any do hym wronge or iniury
He must it suffer and pacyently endure
A dowble tunge with wordes lyke hony
And of his offycis if he wyll be sure
He must be sober and colde of his langage
More to a knaue, than to one of hye lynage
Oft must he stoupe his bonet in his hondeHis maysters backe he must oft shrape and claweHis breste anoyntynge, his mynde to vnderstondeBut be it gode or bad therafter must he draweWithout he can Jest he is nat worth a strawe.But in the meane tyme beware that he none checkeFor than layth malyce a mylstone in his necke
Oft must he stoupe his bonet in his honde
His maysters backe he must oft shrape and clawe
His breste anoyntynge, his mynde to vnderstonde
But be it gode or bad therafter must he drawe
Without he can Jest he is nat worth a strawe.
But in the meane tyme beware that he none checke
For than layth malyce a mylstone in his necke
He that in court wyll loue and fauour haueA fole must hym fayne, if he were none aforeAnd be as felowe to euery boy and knaueAnd to please his lorde he must styll laboure soreHis manyfolde charge maketh hym coueyt moreThat he had leuer serue a man in myseryeThan serue his maker in tranquylyte
He that in court wyll loue and fauour haue
A fole must hym fayne, if he were none afore
And be as felowe to euery boy and knaue
And to please his lorde he must styll laboure sore
His manyfolde charge maketh hym coueyt more
That he had leuer serue a man in myserye
Than serue his maker in tranquylyte
But yet whan he hath done his dylygenceHis lorde to serue as I before haue saydeFor one small faute or neglygent offenceSuche a displeasoure agaynst hym may be laydeThat out is he cast bare and vnpuruayde.Whether he be gentyll, yeman grome or pageThus worldly seruyce is no sure herytage
But yet whan he hath done his dylygence
His lorde to serue as I before haue sayde
For one small faute or neglygent offence
Suche a displeasoure agaynst hym may be layde
That out is he cast bare and vnpuruayde.
Whether he be gentyll, yeman grome or page
Thus worldly seruyce is no sure herytage
Wherfore I may proue by these examples playneThat it is better more godly and plesantTo leue this mondayne casualte and payneAnd to thy maker one god to be seruauntWhiche whyle thou lyuest shall nat let the wantThat thou desyrest iustly, for thy syruyceAnd than after gyue the, the ioyes of Paradyse.
Wherfore I may proue by these examples playne
That it is better more godly and plesant
To leue this mondayne casualte and payne
And to thy maker one god to be seruaunt
Whiche whyle thou lyuest shall nat let the want
That thou desyrest iustly, for thy syruyce
And than after gyue the, the ioyes of Paradyse.
Barklay to the Folys.
Alas man aryse out of Idolatry.Worshyp nat thy ryches nor thy vayne treasoureNe this wretchyd worlde full of mysery.But lawde thy maker and thy sauyourWith fere, mekenes, fayth, glory, and honoureLet thy treasoure onely in his seruyce beAnd here be content with symple behauoureHauynge in this lorde trust and felycyte
Alas man aryse out of Idolatry.Worshyp nat thy ryches nor thy vayne treasoureNe this wretchyd worlde full of mysery.But lawde thy maker and thy sauyourWith fere, mekenes, fayth, glory, and honoureLet thy treasoure onely in his seruyce beAnd here be content with symple behauoureHauynge in this lorde trust and felycyte
Alas man aryse out of Idolatry.
Worshyp nat thy ryches nor thy vayne treasoure
Ne this wretchyd worlde full of mysery.
But lawde thy maker and thy sauyour
With fere, mekenes, fayth, glory, and honoure
Let thy treasoure onely in his seruyce be
And here be content with symple behauoure
Hauynge in this lorde trust and felycyte
The blabbering fool and the magpie.He that his tunge can temper and refrayneAnd asswage the foly of hasty langageShall kepe his mynde from trowble, sadnes and payneAnd fynde therby great ease and auauntageWhere as a hasty speker falleth in great domagePeryll and losse, in lyke wyse as the pyeBetrays hir byrdes by hir chatrynge and crye.
He that his tunge can temper and refrayneAnd asswage the foly of hasty langageShall kepe his mynde from trowble, sadnes and payneAnd fynde therby great ease and auauntageWhere as a hasty speker falleth in great domagePeryll and losse, in lyke wyse as the pyeBetrays hir byrdes by hir chatrynge and crye.
Ye blaberynge folys superflue of langageCome to our shyp our ankers ar in waydeBy right and lawe ye may chalange a stageTo you of Barklay it shall nat be denaydeHowe be it the charge Pynson hathe on me laydeWith many folys our Nauy not to charge.Yet ye of dewty shall haue a sympyll bargeOf this sorte thousandes ar withouten fayleThat haue delyte in wordes voyde and vayneOn men nat fawty somtyme vsynge to rayleOn folysshe wordes settynge theyr herte and brayneThey often touche to theyr owne shame and payneSuche thynges to whiche none wyll theyr mynde aply(Saue suche folys) to theyr shame and enuySay besy fole art thou nat well worthyTo haue enuy, and that echone sholde the hateWhan by thy wordes soundynge to great folyThou sore labrest to engender debateSome renneth fast thynkynge to come to lateTo gyue his counsell whan he seeth men in douteAnd lyghtly his folysshe bolt shall be shot outIs it nat better for one his tunge to kepeWhere as he myght (perchaunce) with honesteeThan wordes to speke whiche make hym after wepeFor great losse folowynge wo and aduersyteA worde ones spokyn reuoked can nat beTherfore thy fynger lay before thy lypesFor a wyse mannys tunge, without aduysement trypesHe that wyll answere of his owne folysshe brayneBefore that any requyreth his counsayleShewith hym selfe and his hasty foly playneWherby men knowe his wordes of none auayleSome haue delyted in mad blaborynge and frayleWhiche after haue suffred bytter punysshementFor their wordes, spoken without aduysementSay what precedeth of this mad outrageBut great mysfortune, wo and vnhappynesseBut for all theyr chattynge and plenty of langageWhan to the preste they come them to confesseTo shewe theyr lewde lyfe theyr synne and wretchydnesWhan they sholde speke, and to this poynt ar comeTheyr tunges ar loste and there they syt as dommeMany haue ben whiche sholde haue be counted wyseSad and discrete, and right well sene in scyenceBut all they haue defyled with this one vyseOf moche spekynge: o cursyd synne and offencePyte it is that so great inconuenienceSo great shame, contempt rebuke and vylanySholde by one small member came to the hole bodyLet suche take example by the chatrynge pye.Whiche doth hyr nest and byrdes also betrayeBy hyr grete chatterynge, clamoure dyn and cryeRyght so these folys theyr owne foly bewraye.But touchynge wymen of them I wyll nought sayThey can nat speke, but ar as coy and styllAs the horle wynde or clapper or a mylleBut that man or woman or any creatureThat lytell speketh or els kepeth sylenceAr euer of them selfe moste stedfast and sureWithout enuy, hatred or malyuolence.Where as to suche comys moche inconuenyenceSorowe vpon sorowe, malyce and dysdayneWhiche wyll no tyme, his speche nor tunge refrayneFayre speche is pleasaunt if it be moderateAnd spoken in season, conuenyente and deweTo kepe scylence, to pore man or estateIs a great grace, and synguler vertueLangage is lawdable whan it is god and trueA wyse man or he speke wyll be wyse and wareWhat (to whome) why (howe) whan and whare
Ye blaberynge folys superflue of langageCome to our shyp our ankers ar in waydeBy right and lawe ye may chalange a stageTo you of Barklay it shall nat be denaydeHowe be it the charge Pynson hathe on me laydeWith many folys our Nauy not to charge.Yet ye of dewty shall haue a sympyll barge
Ye blaberynge folys superflue of langage
Come to our shyp our ankers ar in wayde
By right and lawe ye may chalange a stage
To you of Barklay it shall nat be denayde
Howe be it the charge Pynson hathe on me layde
With many folys our Nauy not to charge.
Yet ye of dewty shall haue a sympyll barge
Of this sorte thousandes ar withouten fayleThat haue delyte in wordes voyde and vayneOn men nat fawty somtyme vsynge to rayleOn folysshe wordes settynge theyr herte and brayneThey often touche to theyr owne shame and payneSuche thynges to whiche none wyll theyr mynde aply(Saue suche folys) to theyr shame and enuy
Of this sorte thousandes ar withouten fayle
That haue delyte in wordes voyde and vayne
On men nat fawty somtyme vsynge to rayle
On folysshe wordes settynge theyr herte and brayne
They often touche to theyr owne shame and payne
Suche thynges to whiche none wyll theyr mynde aply
(Saue suche folys) to theyr shame and enuy
Say besy fole art thou nat well worthyTo haue enuy, and that echone sholde the hateWhan by thy wordes soundynge to great folyThou sore labrest to engender debateSome renneth fast thynkynge to come to lateTo gyue his counsell whan he seeth men in douteAnd lyghtly his folysshe bolt shall be shot out
Say besy fole art thou nat well worthy
To haue enuy, and that echone sholde the hate
Whan by thy wordes soundynge to great foly
Thou sore labrest to engender debate
Some renneth fast thynkynge to come to late
To gyue his counsell whan he seeth men in doute
And lyghtly his folysshe bolt shall be shot out
Is it nat better for one his tunge to kepeWhere as he myght (perchaunce) with honesteeThan wordes to speke whiche make hym after wepeFor great losse folowynge wo and aduersyteA worde ones spokyn reuoked can nat beTherfore thy fynger lay before thy lypesFor a wyse mannys tunge, without aduysement trypes
Is it nat better for one his tunge to kepe
Where as he myght (perchaunce) with honestee
Than wordes to speke whiche make hym after wepe
For great losse folowynge wo and aduersyte
A worde ones spokyn reuoked can nat be
Therfore thy fynger lay before thy lypes
For a wyse mannys tunge, without aduysement trypes
He that wyll answere of his owne folysshe brayneBefore that any requyreth his counsayleShewith hym selfe and his hasty foly playneWherby men knowe his wordes of none auayleSome haue delyted in mad blaborynge and frayleWhiche after haue suffred bytter punysshementFor their wordes, spoken without aduysement
He that wyll answere of his owne folysshe brayne
Before that any requyreth his counsayle
Shewith hym selfe and his hasty foly playne
Wherby men knowe his wordes of none auayle
Some haue delyted in mad blaborynge and frayle
Whiche after haue suffred bytter punysshement
For their wordes, spoken without aduysement
Say what precedeth of this mad outrageBut great mysfortune, wo and vnhappynesseBut for all theyr chattynge and plenty of langageWhan to the preste they come them to confesseTo shewe theyr lewde lyfe theyr synne and wretchydnesWhan they sholde speke, and to this poynt ar comeTheyr tunges ar loste and there they syt as domme
Say what precedeth of this mad outrage
But great mysfortune, wo and vnhappynesse
But for all theyr chattynge and plenty of langage
Whan to the preste they come them to confesse
To shewe theyr lewde lyfe theyr synne and wretchydnes
Whan they sholde speke, and to this poynt ar come
Theyr tunges ar loste and there they syt as domme
Many haue ben whiche sholde haue be counted wyseSad and discrete, and right well sene in scyenceBut all they haue defyled with this one vyseOf moche spekynge: o cursyd synne and offencePyte it is that so great inconuenienceSo great shame, contempt rebuke and vylanySholde by one small member came to the hole body
Many haue ben whiche sholde haue be counted wyse
Sad and discrete, and right well sene in scyence
But all they haue defyled with this one vyse
Of moche spekynge: o cursyd synne and offence
Pyte it is that so great inconuenience
So great shame, contempt rebuke and vylany
Sholde by one small member came to the hole body
Let suche take example by the chatrynge pye.Whiche doth hyr nest and byrdes also betrayeBy hyr grete chatterynge, clamoure dyn and cryeRyght so these folys theyr owne foly bewraye.But touchynge wymen of them I wyll nought sayThey can nat speke, but ar as coy and styllAs the horle wynde or clapper or a mylle
Let suche take example by the chatrynge pye.
Whiche doth hyr nest and byrdes also betraye
By hyr grete chatterynge, clamoure dyn and crye
Ryght so these folys theyr owne foly bewraye.
But touchynge wymen of them I wyll nought say
They can nat speke, but ar as coy and styll
As the horle wynde or clapper or a mylle
But that man or woman or any creatureThat lytell speketh or els kepeth sylenceAr euer of them selfe moste stedfast and sureWithout enuy, hatred or malyuolence.Where as to suche comys moche inconuenyenceSorowe vpon sorowe, malyce and dysdayneWhiche wyll no tyme, his speche nor tunge refrayne
But that man or woman or any creature
That lytell speketh or els kepeth sylence
Ar euer of them selfe moste stedfast and sure
Without enuy, hatred or malyuolence.
Where as to suche comys moche inconuenyence
Sorowe vpon sorowe, malyce and dysdayne
Whiche wyll no tyme, his speche nor tunge refrayne
Fayre speche is pleasaunt if it be moderateAnd spoken in season, conuenyente and deweTo kepe scylence, to pore man or estateIs a great grace, and synguler vertueLangage is lawdable whan it is god and trueA wyse man or he speke wyll be wyse and wareWhat (to whome) why (howe) whan and whare
Fayre speche is pleasaunt if it be moderate
And spoken in season, conuenyente and dewe
To kepe scylence, to pore man or estate
Is a great grace, and synguler vertue
Langage is lawdable whan it is god and true
A wyse man or he speke wyll be wyse and ware
What (to whome) why (howe) whan and whare
Barklaye to the Folys.
Ye bablynge brybours, endeuer you to amendeMytygat by mesure, your prowde hasty langageKepe well your tunges so, shall ye kepe your frendeFor hasty speche ingendreth great damageWhan a worde is nat sayd, the byrde is in the cageAlso the hous is surest whan the dorys be barrydeSo whan thy worde is spokyn and out at largeThou arte nat mayster, but he that hath it hardeIf thou take hede and set therto thy brayneIn this world thou shalt fynde thynges threWhiche ones past, can nat be callyd agayne.The firste is (tyme lost) by mannes symplycyteThe seconde (youth) reuoked can nat beThe thyrde (a worde spoken) it gooth out in the wyndeAnd yet is the fourth, that is (virginyte)My forgetfull mynde, had lefte it nere behynde
Ye bablynge brybours, endeuer you to amendeMytygat by mesure, your prowde hasty langageKepe well your tunges so, shall ye kepe your frendeFor hasty speche ingendreth great damageWhan a worde is nat sayd, the byrde is in the cageAlso the hous is surest whan the dorys be barrydeSo whan thy worde is spokyn and out at largeThou arte nat mayster, but he that hath it harde
Ye bablynge brybours, endeuer you to amende
Mytygat by mesure, your prowde hasty langage
Kepe well your tunges so, shall ye kepe your frende
For hasty speche ingendreth great damage
Whan a worde is nat sayd, the byrde is in the cage
Also the hous is surest whan the dorys be barryde
So whan thy worde is spokyn and out at large
Thou arte nat mayster, but he that hath it harde
If thou take hede and set therto thy brayneIn this world thou shalt fynde thynges threWhiche ones past, can nat be callyd agayne.The firste is (tyme lost) by mannes symplycyteThe seconde (youth) reuoked can nat beThe thyrde (a worde spoken) it gooth out in the wyndeAnd yet is the fourth, that is (virginyte)My forgetfull mynde, had lefte it nere behynde
If thou take hede and set therto thy brayne
In this world thou shalt fynde thynges thre
Whiche ones past, can nat be callyd agayne.
The firste is (tyme lost) by mannes symplycyte
The seconde (youth) reuoked can nat be
The thyrde (a worde spoken) it gooth out in the wynde
And yet is the fourth, that is (virginyte)
My forgetfull mynde, had lefte it nere behynde
The hand which men unto a cross do nail, sheweth the way.He lacketh reason and vnderstandynge toWhiche to a towne or Cyte knoweth the wayAnd shewyth other howe they may thether goHym selfe wandrynge aboute from day to dayIn myre and fen, though his iourney thether laySo he is mad whiche to other doth preche and tellThe wave to heuyn, and hym selfe goth to hell.
He lacketh reason and vnderstandynge toWhiche to a towne or Cyte knoweth the wayAnd shewyth other howe they may thether goHym selfe wandrynge aboute from day to dayIn myre and fen, though his iourney thether laySo he is mad whiche to other doth preche and tellThe wave to heuyn, and hym selfe goth to hell.
Nowe to our Nauy, a sorte maketh asauteOf folys blynde, mad Jugys and IniustWhiche lyghtly noteth another mannes faute.Chastynge that synne, whiche theyr owne mynde doth rustBy longe abydynge, and increas of carnall lustThey cloke their owne vyce synne and enormyteOther blamynge and chastynge with moche cruelteThey mocke and mowe at anothers small offenceAnd redy ar a faute in them to fyndeBut of theyr owne foly and inconuenyenceThey se no thynge, for fully ar they blyndeNat notynge the vyce rotyd in theyr owne myndeTheyr greuous woundes and secrete maladyFor theyr owne yll they seke no remedyThe hande whiche men vnto a Crosse do nayleShewyth the waye ofte to a man wandryngeWhiche by the same his right way can nat fayleBut yet the hande is there styll abydyngeSo do these folys lewde of theyr owne lyuyngeTo other men shewe mean and way to wynneEternall ioy themselfe bydynge in synneHe sertaynly may well be callyd a soteMoche vnauysed and his owne ennemyWhiche in a nothers iye can spye a lytell moteAnd in his owne can nat fele nor espyeA moche stycke, so is he certaynly.Whiche noteth anothers small faute or offenceTo his owne great synnes gyuynge none aduertenceMany them selfe fayne as chaste as was saynt JohnnAnd many other fayne them meke and innocentSome other as iust, and wyse as SalomonAs holy as Poule, as Job als pacyentAs sad as senecke, and as obedyentAs Abraham, and as martyn vertuousBut yet is theyr lyfe full lewde and vyciousSome lokyth with an aungels countenaunceWyse sad and sober lyke an heremyteThus hydynge theyr synne and theyr mysgouernaunce.Under suche clokys lyke a fals ypocryteLet suche folys rede what Cicero doth wryteWhiche sayth that none sholde blame any creatureFor his faut, without his owne lyuynge be sureWithout all spot of synne faut or offenceFor in lyke fourme as a phesycyan.By his practyse and cunnynge or scyenceThe sekenes curyth of a nother manBut his owne yll nor dyseas he nat canRelefe nor hele so doth he that doth blameAnothers synne: he styll lyuynge in the sameMany ar whiche other can counseyll craftelyAnd shewe the peryll that may come by theyr synneBut them selfe they counseyll nat: ne remedy.Nor take no waye whereby they heuyn may wynneBut lye in that vyce that they rotyd ar inLeuynge the way that gydyth to ioy and restTheir owne sensualyte ensuynge as a beestWherfore ye prestis that haue the charge and cure.To teche and enfourme the rude comonte.In goddys lawes groundyd in scriptureAnd blame all synnes sparynge no degreWhyle ye rebuke thus theyr enormyteLyue so that none may cause haue you to blameAnd if ye do nat: it is to your great shameFor without doute it is great vylanyA man to speke agaynst any offenceWherin he well knowyth hym owne selfe gyltyWithin his mynde and secrete conscienceAgaynst hymselfe suche one gyueth sentenceHowe god ryght iuge, by rightwyse iugementShulde hym rewarde with worthy punysshement
Nowe to our Nauy, a sorte maketh asauteOf folys blynde, mad Jugys and IniustWhiche lyghtly noteth another mannes faute.Chastynge that synne, whiche theyr owne mynde doth rustBy longe abydynge, and increas of carnall lustThey cloke their owne vyce synne and enormyteOther blamynge and chastynge with moche cruelte
Nowe to our Nauy, a sorte maketh asaute
Of folys blynde, mad Jugys and Iniust
Whiche lyghtly noteth another mannes faute.
Chastynge that synne, whiche theyr owne mynde doth rust
By longe abydynge, and increas of carnall lust
They cloke their owne vyce synne and enormyte
Other blamynge and chastynge with moche cruelte
They mocke and mowe at anothers small offenceAnd redy ar a faute in them to fyndeBut of theyr owne foly and inconuenyenceThey se no thynge, for fully ar they blyndeNat notynge the vyce rotyd in theyr owne myndeTheyr greuous woundes and secrete maladyFor theyr owne yll they seke no remedy
They mocke and mowe at anothers small offence
And redy ar a faute in them to fynde
But of theyr owne foly and inconuenyence
They se no thynge, for fully ar they blynde
Nat notynge the vyce rotyd in theyr owne mynde
Theyr greuous woundes and secrete malady
For theyr owne yll they seke no remedy
The hande whiche men vnto a Crosse do nayleShewyth the waye ofte to a man wandryngeWhiche by the same his right way can nat fayleBut yet the hande is there styll abydyngeSo do these folys lewde of theyr owne lyuyngeTo other men shewe mean and way to wynneEternall ioy themselfe bydynge in synne
The hande whiche men vnto a Crosse do nayle
Shewyth the waye ofte to a man wandrynge
Whiche by the same his right way can nat fayle
But yet the hande is there styll abydynge
So do these folys lewde of theyr owne lyuynge
To other men shewe mean and way to wynne
Eternall ioy themselfe bydynge in synne
He sertaynly may well be callyd a soteMoche vnauysed and his owne ennemyWhiche in a nothers iye can spye a lytell moteAnd in his owne can nat fele nor espyeA moche stycke, so is he certaynly.Whiche noteth anothers small faute or offenceTo his owne great synnes gyuynge none aduertence
He sertaynly may well be callyd a sote
Moche vnauysed and his owne ennemy
Whiche in a nothers iye can spye a lytell mote
And in his owne can nat fele nor espye
A moche stycke, so is he certaynly.
Whiche noteth anothers small faute or offence
To his owne great synnes gyuynge none aduertence
Many them selfe fayne as chaste as was saynt JohnnAnd many other fayne them meke and innocentSome other as iust, and wyse as SalomonAs holy as Poule, as Job als pacyentAs sad as senecke, and as obedyentAs Abraham, and as martyn vertuousBut yet is theyr lyfe full lewde and vycious
Many them selfe fayne as chaste as was saynt Johnn
And many other fayne them meke and innocent
Some other as iust, and wyse as Salomon
As holy as Poule, as Job als pacyent
As sad as senecke, and as obedyent
As Abraham, and as martyn vertuous
But yet is theyr lyfe full lewde and vycious
Some lokyth with an aungels countenaunceWyse sad and sober lyke an heremyteThus hydynge theyr synne and theyr mysgouernaunce.Under suche clokys lyke a fals ypocryteLet suche folys rede what Cicero doth wryteWhiche sayth that none sholde blame any creatureFor his faut, without his owne lyuynge be sure
Some lokyth with an aungels countenaunce
Wyse sad and sober lyke an heremyte
Thus hydynge theyr synne and theyr mysgouernaunce.
Under suche clokys lyke a fals ypocryte
Let suche folys rede what Cicero doth wryte
Whiche sayth that none sholde blame any creature
For his faut, without his owne lyuynge be sure
Without all spot of synne faut or offenceFor in lyke fourme as a phesycyan.By his practyse and cunnynge or scyenceThe sekenes curyth of a nother manBut his owne yll nor dyseas he nat canRelefe nor hele so doth he that doth blameAnothers synne: he styll lyuynge in the same
Without all spot of synne faut or offence
For in lyke fourme as a phesycyan.
By his practyse and cunnynge or scyence
The sekenes curyth of a nother man
But his owne yll nor dyseas he nat can
Relefe nor hele so doth he that doth blame
Anothers synne: he styll lyuynge in the same
Many ar whiche other can counseyll craftelyAnd shewe the peryll that may come by theyr synneBut them selfe they counseyll nat: ne remedy.Nor take no waye whereby they heuyn may wynneBut lye in that vyce that they rotyd ar inLeuynge the way that gydyth to ioy and restTheir owne sensualyte ensuynge as a beest
Many ar whiche other can counseyll craftely
And shewe the peryll that may come by theyr synne
But them selfe they counseyll nat: ne remedy.
Nor take no waye whereby they heuyn may wynne
But lye in that vyce that they rotyd ar in
Leuynge the way that gydyth to ioy and rest
Their owne sensualyte ensuynge as a beest
Wherfore ye prestis that haue the charge and cure.To teche and enfourme the rude comonte.In goddys lawes groundyd in scriptureAnd blame all synnes sparynge no degreWhyle ye rebuke thus theyr enormyteLyue so that none may cause haue you to blameAnd if ye do nat: it is to your great shame
Wherfore ye prestis that haue the charge and cure.
To teche and enfourme the rude comonte.
In goddys lawes groundyd in scripture
And blame all synnes sparynge no degre
Whyle ye rebuke thus theyr enormyte
Lyue so that none may cause haue you to blame
And if ye do nat: it is to your great shame
For without doute it is great vylanyA man to speke agaynst any offenceWherin he well knowyth hym owne selfe gyltyWithin his mynde and secrete conscienceAgaynst hymselfe suche one gyueth sentenceHowe god ryght iuge, by rightwyse iugementShulde hym rewarde with worthy punysshement
For without doute it is great vylany
A man to speke agaynst any offence
Wherin he well knowyth hym owne selfe gylty
Within his mynde and secrete conscience
Agaynst hymselfe suche one gyueth sentence
Howe god ryght iuge, by rightwyse iugement
Shulde hym rewarde with worthy punysshement
The enuoy of Barklay to the Folys.
Ye clerkes that on your shulders here the sheldeUnto you graunted by the vnyuersyte.Howe dare ye auenture to fyght in cristes feldeAgaynst synne, without ye clere and gyltles beConsyder the Cocke and in hym shall ye se:A great example, for with his wynges thryseHe betyth hym selfe to wake his owne bodyeBefore he crowe, to cause other wake or ryse.
Ye clerkes that on your shulders here the sheldeUnto you graunted by the vnyuersyte.Howe dare ye auenture to fyght in cristes feldeAgaynst synne, without ye clere and gyltles beConsyder the Cocke and in hym shall ye se:A great example, for with his wynges thryseHe betyth hym selfe to wake his owne bodyeBefore he crowe, to cause other wake or ryse.
Ye clerkes that on your shulders here the shelde
Unto you graunted by the vnyuersyte.
Howe dare ye auenture to fyght in cristes felde
Agaynst synne, without ye clere and gyltles be
Consyder the Cocke and in hym shall ye se:
A great example, for with his wynges thryse
He betyth hym selfe to wake his owne bodye
Before he crowe, to cause other wake or ryse.
The devil and the finder.He that ought fyndyth outher by day or nyghtUsynge it as his owne, as thynge gottyn iustlyAnd thynketh that he so may do by lawe and rightSuche is disceyuyd, and thynketh wrongfullyFor why the deuyll our goostly ennemyDoth hym so counseyll and in his erys bloweDisceyuynge in his bondes, as he doth many mo
He that ought fyndyth outher by day or nyghtUsynge it as his owne, as thynge gottyn iustlyAnd thynketh that he so may do by lawe and rightSuche is disceyuyd, and thynketh wrongfullyFor why the deuyll our goostly ennemyDoth hym so counseyll and in his erys bloweDisceyuynge in his bondes, as he doth many mo
The feruour of ryches and disordred loueWhiche many haue, doth me bynde and constrayne.Within my shyp them sharply to reproueThat pen nor hande, themselfe wyll not refrayneOf couetyse nowe I wyll nat speke agayneBut of them that kepeth by force and by myghtThat thynge wherto they haue nat come, by ryghtSome fyndeth treasours other mennys goodAnd in theyr owne vse suche good they occupy.Whiche of theyr myndes ar so blynde and wode.And so reted in theyr errour and folyThat oft they say (say) ye and dare byde byThat some saynt whome they worshypped haueHaue sende, them the same theyr honestee to saueThey haue no force nor care, nor they none haue wyllTo whome the ryches so loste dyde apertayneThat fortune hath gyuen they holde fast and kepe styllNeuer hauynge mynde it to restore agayneSuche folys fere no thynge euerlastynge payneNor note nat, that without true restytucionIt small auayleth to haue made confessyon.Here me fole with thy immoderate myndeHere me and do thy herte therto aplyIf thou by fortune any ryches fyndeCallynge it thyne: thou lyest therin falslyIf thou haue wyt thou canst nat well denyBut that gode nat gyuen, nor gottyn by laboureCan nat be rightwyse: thus mende thy blynde erroureIf thou ought fynde that longeth nat to theThan is it anothers, the case is clere and playneWherfor thou ought of lawe and of dewteUnto the owner it soone to yelde agayneBut if he be dede, to whome it dyd attayneThou ought nat yet to kepe it nere the more.But to his sectours or heyres it restorePut case that they also be past and dedeYet ought thou nat to keep it styll with the.The lawe commaundyth, and also it is mede.To gyue it to suche as haue necessyte.With it releuynge theyr paynfull pouerteeAnd so shalt thou discharge thy conseyence.Helpynge the pore, and auoyde great offenceBut he that others godes tourneth to his owne vseSpendynge and wastynge that thynge that neuer was hisSuche certaynly his reason doth abuseAnd by this meane greuously doth amysseWherby he lesyth eternall ioy and blysseHis soule drownynge depe within hell flodesFor his myspendynge of other mennys goodesBut to be shorte, and brefe in my sentenceAnd sothe to saye playne as the mater isForsoth I se nat right great differenceBytwene a thefe, and these folys couetysBoth wrongly kepeth that thynge that is nat hisThynkynge that god doth nat therto aduerteWhiche notyth thy dedys, thy mynde thought and herteWherfore if thou haue a rightwyse conscyenceThou wylt nought kepe whiche longeth nat to theThe lawe so commaundeth in payne of great offenceFor of gode that thou kepest agaynst equyteThou shalt make accompt after that thou shalt dyeTo thy great payne in hell for euer moreIf thou no restytucion make before.Here myght I touche executours in this cryme.Blamynge theyr dedys dysceyte and couetyseIf it were nat for wastynge of my tymeFor mende they wyll nat them in any wyseNor leue no poyntes of theyr disceytfull gyseLet them take parte of that whiche I here noteAnd be partynge foles in this present bote.
The feruour of ryches and disordred loueWhiche many haue, doth me bynde and constrayne.Within my shyp them sharply to reproueThat pen nor hande, themselfe wyll not refrayneOf couetyse nowe I wyll nat speke agayneBut of them that kepeth by force and by myghtThat thynge wherto they haue nat come, by ryght
The feruour of ryches and disordred loue
Whiche many haue, doth me bynde and constrayne.
Within my shyp them sharply to reproue
That pen nor hande, themselfe wyll not refrayne
Of couetyse nowe I wyll nat speke agayne
But of them that kepeth by force and by myght
That thynge wherto they haue nat come, by ryght
Some fyndeth treasours other mennys goodAnd in theyr owne vse suche good they occupy.Whiche of theyr myndes ar so blynde and wode.And so reted in theyr errour and folyThat oft they say (say) ye and dare byde byThat some saynt whome they worshypped haueHaue sende, them the same theyr honestee to saue
Some fyndeth treasours other mennys good
And in theyr owne vse suche good they occupy.
Whiche of theyr myndes ar so blynde and wode.
And so reted in theyr errour and foly
That oft they say (say) ye and dare byde by
That some saynt whome they worshypped haue
Haue sende, them the same theyr honestee to saue
They haue no force nor care, nor they none haue wyllTo whome the ryches so loste dyde apertayneThat fortune hath gyuen they holde fast and kepe styllNeuer hauynge mynde it to restore agayneSuche folys fere no thynge euerlastynge payneNor note nat, that without true restytucionIt small auayleth to haue made confessyon.
They haue no force nor care, nor they none haue wyll
To whome the ryches so loste dyde apertayne
That fortune hath gyuen they holde fast and kepe styll
Neuer hauynge mynde it to restore agayne
Suche folys fere no thynge euerlastynge payne
Nor note nat, that without true restytucion
It small auayleth to haue made confessyon.
Here me fole with thy immoderate myndeHere me and do thy herte therto aplyIf thou by fortune any ryches fyndeCallynge it thyne: thou lyest therin falslyIf thou haue wyt thou canst nat well denyBut that gode nat gyuen, nor gottyn by laboureCan nat be rightwyse: thus mende thy blynde erroure
Here me fole with thy immoderate mynde
Here me and do thy herte therto aply
If thou by fortune any ryches fynde
Callynge it thyne: thou lyest therin falsly
If thou haue wyt thou canst nat well deny
But that gode nat gyuen, nor gottyn by laboure
Can nat be rightwyse: thus mende thy blynde erroure
If thou ought fynde that longeth nat to theThan is it anothers, the case is clere and playneWherfor thou ought of lawe and of dewteUnto the owner it soone to yelde agayneBut if he be dede, to whome it dyd attayneThou ought nat yet to kepe it nere the more.But to his sectours or heyres it restore
If thou ought fynde that longeth nat to the
Than is it anothers, the case is clere and playne
Wherfor thou ought of lawe and of dewte
Unto the owner it soone to yelde agayne
But if he be dede, to whome it dyd attayne
Thou ought nat yet to kepe it nere the more.
But to his sectours or heyres it restore
Put case that they also be past and dedeYet ought thou nat to keep it styll with the.The lawe commaundyth, and also it is mede.To gyue it to suche as haue necessyte.With it releuynge theyr paynfull pouerteeAnd so shalt thou discharge thy conseyence.Helpynge the pore, and auoyde great offence
Put case that they also be past and dede
Yet ought thou nat to keep it styll with the.
The lawe commaundyth, and also it is mede.
To gyue it to suche as haue necessyte.
With it releuynge theyr paynfull pouertee
And so shalt thou discharge thy conseyence.
Helpynge the pore, and auoyde great offence
But he that others godes tourneth to his owne vseSpendynge and wastynge that thynge that neuer was hisSuche certaynly his reason doth abuseAnd by this meane greuously doth amysseWherby he lesyth eternall ioy and blysseHis soule drownynge depe within hell flodesFor his myspendynge of other mennys goodes
But he that others godes tourneth to his owne vse
Spendynge and wastynge that thynge that neuer was his
Suche certaynly his reason doth abuse
And by this meane greuously doth amysse
Wherby he lesyth eternall ioy and blysse
His soule drownynge depe within hell flodes
For his myspendynge of other mennys goodes
But to be shorte, and brefe in my sentenceAnd sothe to saye playne as the mater isForsoth I se nat right great differenceBytwene a thefe, and these folys couetysBoth wrongly kepeth that thynge that is nat hisThynkynge that god doth nat therto aduerteWhiche notyth thy dedys, thy mynde thought and herte
But to be shorte, and brefe in my sentence
And sothe to saye playne as the mater is
Forsoth I se nat right great difference
Bytwene a thefe, and these folys couetys
Both wrongly kepeth that thynge that is nat his
Thynkynge that god doth nat therto aduerte
Whiche notyth thy dedys, thy mynde thought and herte
Wherfore if thou haue a rightwyse conscyenceThou wylt nought kepe whiche longeth nat to theThe lawe so commaundeth in payne of great offenceFor of gode that thou kepest agaynst equyteThou shalt make accompt after that thou shalt dyeTo thy great payne in hell for euer moreIf thou no restytucion make before.
Wherfore if thou haue a rightwyse conscyence
Thou wylt nought kepe whiche longeth nat to the
The lawe so commaundeth in payne of great offence
For of gode that thou kepest agaynst equyte
Thou shalt make accompt after that thou shalt dye
To thy great payne in hell for euer more
If thou no restytucion make before.
Here myght I touche executours in this cryme.Blamynge theyr dedys dysceyte and couetyseIf it were nat for wastynge of my tymeFor mende they wyll nat them in any wyseNor leue no poyntes of theyr disceytfull gyseLet them take parte of that whiche I here noteAnd be partynge foles in this present bote.
Here myght I touche executours in this cryme.
Blamynge theyr dedys dysceyte and couetyse
If it were nat for wastynge of my tyme
For mende they wyll nat them in any wyse
Nor leue no poyntes of theyr disceytfull gyse
Let them take parte of that whiche I here note
And be partynge foles in this present bote.
The Enuoy of Barklay the translator to the Folys.
Ye false executours whome all the worlde repreuysAnd ye that fynde mennes goodes or treasouresI call you as bad as robbers or theuysFor ye by your falshode and manyfolde erroursKepe falsly that thynge whiche is none of yoursAnd wast here the goodes of hym that is pastThe soule lyeth in payne, ye take your pleasours.With his ryches, damnynge your owne soule at the last
Ye false executours whome all the worlde repreuysAnd ye that fynde mennes goodes or treasouresI call you as bad as robbers or theuysFor ye by your falshode and manyfolde erroursKepe falsly that thynge whiche is none of yoursAnd wast here the goodes of hym that is pastThe soule lyeth in payne, ye take your pleasours.With his ryches, damnynge your owne soule at the last
Ye false executours whome all the worlde repreuys
And ye that fynde mennes goodes or treasoures
I call you as bad as robbers or theuys
For ye by your falshode and manyfolde errours
Kepe falsly that thynge whiche is none of yours
And wast here the goodes of hym that is past
The soule lyeth in payne, ye take your pleasours.
With his ryches, damnynge your owne soule at the last
Wisdom calling to the people.He that delyteth in godly sapienceAnd it to obtayne puttyth his besynesAboue all folys shall haue preemynenceAnd in this worlde haue honour and rychesseOr a worthy crowne in heuyns blessydnesseOr els bothe welthe here, and after ioy and blysseWhere as a fole of bothe the two shall mysse
He that delyteth in godly sapienceAnd it to obtayne puttyth his besynesAboue all folys shall haue preemynenceAnd in this worlde haue honour and rychesseOr a worthy crowne in heuyns blessydnesseOr els bothe welthe here, and after ioy and blysseWhere as a fole of bothe the two shall mysse
Wysdome with voyce replete with grauyteCallyth to all people, and sayth o thou mankyndeHowe longe wylt thou lyue in this enormyteAlas howe longe shalt thou thy wyt haue blyndeHere my preceptis and rote them in thy myndeNowe is full tyme and season to clere thy syght:Harkyn to my wordes, grounde of goodnes and ryghtLerne mortall men, stodyenge day and nyghtTo knowe me wysdome, chefe rote of chastyteMy holy doctryne thy herte shall clere and lyghtMy tunge shall shewe the ryght and equyteChase out thy foly, cause of aduersyte.And seke me wysdome whiche shall endewe thy myndeWith helth and welth wherby thou lyfe shalt fyndeAryse I say agayne to the mankyndeAnd seke me wysdome that am well of goodnesLet nat this worlde thy conscyence farther blyndeNor to synne subdue for loue of false rychesseBlynde nat thy herte with mondayne wretchednesI am worth golde and worth all good mundayne:And to mankynde counselloure souerayneNo maner Jowell is to me lyke certayneNe so profytable to mortall creatureI passe all ryches and cause a man refrayneHis mynde from synne, and of his ende be sureThere is no treasoure nor precious stone so pureCarbuncle Ruby ne adamond in londe nor seeNor other lapydary comparable to me:And shortly to speke wysdome is more laudableThan all the worlde or other thynge mundayneThere is no treasoure: to wysdome comparableBut it alone is a vertue moste souerayneHauynge nought lyke in valoure nor worth certayneNo fole is so ryche, nor hye of dignyteBut that a wyse man pore is more worthy than heWysdome preserueth men in auctorytePrynces promotynge by counseyll prouydentBy it pore men somtyme, and of lowe degreHath had the hole worlde to them obedyentIt gydeth Cytees and countrees excellentAnd gouerneth the counseyll of prynce lorde and kyngeStrengthynge the body the herte enlumynyngeIt gydyth lordes and from bondage doth bryngeThem whome foly hath brought in to captyuyteHir gyftys to mankynde frely offryngeGydynge hir discyples from all aduersyteWysdome stondynge vpon a stage on hyeCryeth to mankynde with lowde voyce in this wyseI trouth exalte: and vycious men dispyseLerne of me wysdome cast out your couetyseFor by my myght craft and wyse prouysicionKynges vnto their dygnyte dothe ryseTheyr septers gydynge by my monycionI gaue them lawes to gyde eche regyonIn welthe defendynge and in prosperyteThem and theyr royalmes whyle they gyde them by meAll maner nacyons that doth to me inclyneI gyde and gouerne by lawe and equyteIn me is right, godly wyt and doctryneWhat blynde foly, and howe great aduersyteDo they auoyde that gyde them selfe by meAnd he that me louyth with worshyp and honourShall knowe my loue my grace and my fauourHe that me folowyth shall auoyde all dolourI shall hym folowe promotynge in suche caseThat none shall be before hym in valourI godly ryches in my power inbraceWhiche man by me may esely purchaseAnd he that wyll his way by me addresseI shall rewarde with heuenly ioy endlesThe father of heuen of infynyte goodnesse.Me comprehendyth within his deyteeOf hym my firste begynnynge is doutles.And heuen and erth he create hath by meAnd euery creature bothe on londe and seThe heuen imperyall all planetis and firmameutGod neuer thynge made without my true assentTherfore mankynde set thy mynde and intentTo me wysdome to be subiect and seruauntTo my preceptis be thou obedyentAnd heuenly ioy thou shalt nat lacke nor wantFor doutles they ar mad and ignorauntAnd folys blyndyd who so euer they beThat wyll nat gladly be seruauntes vnto me
Wysdome with voyce replete with grauyteCallyth to all people, and sayth o thou mankyndeHowe longe wylt thou lyue in this enormyteAlas howe longe shalt thou thy wyt haue blyndeHere my preceptis and rote them in thy myndeNowe is full tyme and season to clere thy syght:Harkyn to my wordes, grounde of goodnes and ryght
Wysdome with voyce replete with grauyte
Callyth to all people, and sayth o thou mankynde
Howe longe wylt thou lyue in this enormyte
Alas howe longe shalt thou thy wyt haue blynde
Here my preceptis and rote them in thy mynde
Nowe is full tyme and season to clere thy syght:
Harkyn to my wordes, grounde of goodnes and ryght
Lerne mortall men, stodyenge day and nyghtTo knowe me wysdome, chefe rote of chastyteMy holy doctryne thy herte shall clere and lyghtMy tunge shall shewe the ryght and equyteChase out thy foly, cause of aduersyte.And seke me wysdome whiche shall endewe thy myndeWith helth and welth wherby thou lyfe shalt fynde
Lerne mortall men, stodyenge day and nyght
To knowe me wysdome, chefe rote of chastyte
My holy doctryne thy herte shall clere and lyght
My tunge shall shewe the ryght and equyte
Chase out thy foly, cause of aduersyte.
And seke me wysdome whiche shall endewe thy mynde
With helth and welth wherby thou lyfe shalt fynde
Aryse I say agayne to the mankyndeAnd seke me wysdome that am well of goodnesLet nat this worlde thy conscyence farther blyndeNor to synne subdue for loue of false rychesseBlynde nat thy herte with mondayne wretchednesI am worth golde and worth all good mundayne:And to mankynde counselloure souerayne
Aryse I say agayne to the mankynde
And seke me wysdome that am well of goodnes
Let nat this worlde thy conscyence farther blynde
Nor to synne subdue for loue of false rychesse
Blynde nat thy herte with mondayne wretchednes
I am worth golde and worth all good mundayne:
And to mankynde counselloure souerayne
No maner Jowell is to me lyke certayneNe so profytable to mortall creatureI passe all ryches and cause a man refrayneHis mynde from synne, and of his ende be sureThere is no treasoure nor precious stone so pureCarbuncle Ruby ne adamond in londe nor seeNor other lapydary comparable to me:
No maner Jowell is to me lyke certayne
Ne so profytable to mortall creature
I passe all ryches and cause a man refrayne
His mynde from synne, and of his ende be sure
There is no treasoure nor precious stone so pure
Carbuncle Ruby ne adamond in londe nor see
Nor other lapydary comparable to me:
And shortly to speke wysdome is more laudableThan all the worlde or other thynge mundayneThere is no treasoure: to wysdome comparableBut it alone is a vertue moste souerayneHauynge nought lyke in valoure nor worth certayneNo fole is so ryche, nor hye of dignyteBut that a wyse man pore is more worthy than he
And shortly to speke wysdome is more laudable
Than all the worlde or other thynge mundayne
There is no treasoure: to wysdome comparable
But it alone is a vertue moste souerayne
Hauynge nought lyke in valoure nor worth certayne
No fole is so ryche, nor hye of dignyte
But that a wyse man pore is more worthy than he
Wysdome preserueth men in auctorytePrynces promotynge by counseyll prouydentBy it pore men somtyme, and of lowe degreHath had the hole worlde to them obedyentIt gydeth Cytees and countrees excellentAnd gouerneth the counseyll of prynce lorde and kyngeStrengthynge the body the herte enlumynynge
Wysdome preserueth men in auctoryte
Prynces promotynge by counseyll prouydent
By it pore men somtyme, and of lowe degre
Hath had the hole worlde to them obedyent
It gydeth Cytees and countrees excellent
And gouerneth the counseyll of prynce lorde and kynge
Strengthynge the body the herte enlumynynge
It gydyth lordes and from bondage doth bryngeThem whome foly hath brought in to captyuyteHir gyftys to mankynde frely offryngeGydynge hir discyples from all aduersyteWysdome stondynge vpon a stage on hyeCryeth to mankynde with lowde voyce in this wyseI trouth exalte: and vycious men dispyse
It gydyth lordes and from bondage doth brynge
Them whome foly hath brought in to captyuyte
Hir gyftys to mankynde frely offrynge
Gydynge hir discyples from all aduersyte
Wysdome stondynge vpon a stage on hye
Cryeth to mankynde with lowde voyce in this wyse
I trouth exalte: and vycious men dispyse
Lerne of me wysdome cast out your couetyseFor by my myght craft and wyse prouysicionKynges vnto their dygnyte dothe ryseTheyr septers gydynge by my monycionI gaue them lawes to gyde eche regyonIn welthe defendynge and in prosperyteThem and theyr royalmes whyle they gyde them by me
Lerne of me wysdome cast out your couetyse
For by my myght craft and wyse prouysicion
Kynges vnto their dygnyte dothe ryse
Theyr septers gydynge by my monycion
I gaue them lawes to gyde eche regyon
In welthe defendynge and in prosperyte
Them and theyr royalmes whyle they gyde them by me
All maner nacyons that doth to me inclyneI gyde and gouerne by lawe and equyteIn me is right, godly wyt and doctryneWhat blynde foly, and howe great aduersyteDo they auoyde that gyde them selfe by meAnd he that me louyth with worshyp and honourShall knowe my loue my grace and my fauour
All maner nacyons that doth to me inclyne
I gyde and gouerne by lawe and equyte
In me is right, godly wyt and doctryne
What blynde foly, and howe great aduersyte
Do they auoyde that gyde them selfe by me
And he that me louyth with worshyp and honour
Shall knowe my loue my grace and my fauour
He that me folowyth shall auoyde all dolourI shall hym folowe promotynge in suche caseThat none shall be before hym in valourI godly ryches in my power inbraceWhiche man by me may esely purchaseAnd he that wyll his way by me addresseI shall rewarde with heuenly ioy endles
He that me folowyth shall auoyde all dolour
I shall hym folowe promotynge in suche case
That none shall be before hym in valour
I godly ryches in my power inbrace
Whiche man by me may esely purchase
And he that wyll his way by me addresse
I shall rewarde with heuenly ioy endles
The father of heuen of infynyte goodnesse.Me comprehendyth within his deyteeOf hym my firste begynnynge is doutles.And heuen and erth he create hath by meAnd euery creature bothe on londe and seThe heuen imperyall all planetis and firmameutGod neuer thynge made without my true assent
The father of heuen of infynyte goodnesse.
Me comprehendyth within his deytee
Of hym my firste begynnynge is doutles.
And heuen and erth he create hath by me
And euery creature bothe on londe and se
The heuen imperyall all planetis and firmameut
God neuer thynge made without my true assent
Therfore mankynde set thy mynde and intentTo me wysdome to be subiect and seruauntTo my preceptis be thou obedyentAnd heuenly ioy thou shalt nat lacke nor wantFor doutles they ar mad and ignorauntAnd folys blyndyd who so euer they beThat wyll nat gladly be seruauntes vnto me
Therfore mankynde set thy mynde and intent
To me wysdome to be subiect and seruaunt
To my preceptis be thou obedyent
And heuenly ioy thou shalt nat lacke nor want
For doutles they ar mad and ignoraunt
And folys blyndyd who so euer they be
That wyll nat gladly be seruauntes vnto me
The envoy of Barklay to the Folys.
Aryse folys of myndes darke and blynde.Receyue the gyftes of godly sapyenceHere hir perceptis and plant them in your myndeAnd rote out the gaffys of your olde offence.Call to your myndes what inconuenyenceHowe sodayne fallys, what sorowe and turmentHath come to many a myghty lorde and prynceFor nat folowynge of hir commaundement.
Aryse folys of myndes darke and blynde.Receyue the gyftes of godly sapyenceHere hir perceptis and plant them in your myndeAnd rote out the gaffys of your olde offence.Call to your myndes what inconuenyenceHowe sodayne fallys, what sorowe and turmentHath come to many a myghty lorde and prynceFor nat folowynge of hir commaundement.
Aryse folys of myndes darke and blynde.
Receyue the gyftes of godly sapyence
Here hir perceptis and plant them in your mynde
And rote out the gaffys of your olde offence.
Call to your myndes what inconuenyence
Howe sodayne fallys, what sorowe and turment
Hath come to many a myghty lorde and prynce
For nat folowynge of hir commaundement.
Sudden great misfortune.He is a fole whiche settyth confydenceOn frayle fortune vncertayne and mutableHis mynde exaltynge in pryde and insolenceBecause that she somtyme is fauorableAs if she wolde so be perdurableSuche folys oft whan they thynke them most sureAll sodaynly great mysfortune endure
He is a fole whiche settyth confydenceOn frayle fortune vncertayne and mutableHis mynde exaltynge in pryde and insolenceBecause that she somtyme is fauorableAs if she wolde so be perdurableSuche folys oft whan they thynke them most sureAll sodaynly great mysfortune endure
Amonge our folys he ought to haue a placeAnd so he shall for it is resonableWhiche thynketh hymselfe greatly in fortunes graceBostynge that she to hym is fauorableAs if hyr maner were nat to be mutableIn this vayne hope suche theyr lyfe doth ledeTyll at the laste theyr hous borne oure theyr hedeHe shakyth boost and oft doth hym auaunteOf fortunes fauoure and his prosperyteWhiche suffreth hym nought of his wyll to wanteSo that he knoweth nought of aduersyteNor mysfortune nor what thynge is pouertee.O lawles fole, o man blyndyd of myndeSay what suretye in fortune canst thou fyndeTo what ende or vnto what conclusyonShall fortune frayle vnrightwyse and vnsureLede the blynde fole by hyr abusyon.Howe darest thou the in hir blyndnes assure.Syns she vnstable is and can nat longe endureHir gyftis changith, she is blynde and sodayneThoughe she firste lawghe hir ende is vncertayne.Thou shakest boste ofte of hir foly in vayneFor he is most happy whiche can auoyde hir snareIf she exalte some one vnto welth mundayneShe bryngeth another to payne sorowe and careWhyle one is ladyd to the others backe is bareWhyle she a begger maketh in good aboundeA lorde or state she throweth to the groundeBut nat withstandynge hir mutabylyte.Thou bostest thy gode and to moche abundaunceThou bostest thy welth and thy prosperyteThy good auenturs, and plentyfull pleasaunceAlas blynde fole amende thy ygnoraunceAnd in thy welthe to this saynge intendeThat fortune euer hath an incertayne endeFals fortune infect of countenaunce and of faceBy hir iyen clowdy and varyable vysageHath many for a whyle taken to hir graceWhiche after by hir whele vnstable and volageHath brought them to wo mysfortune and damageShe ruleth pore and riche without differenceLewdnes exaltynge and damnynge innocenceThus is that man voyde, of all intellygenceWhom fortune fedyth, with chaunche fortunableIf he therin haue ouer large confydenceAnd thynke that sure that euer is mutableThat fole is sonne, to the fende abhomynableThat foloweth ryches, and fortune that is blyndeHis sauyour lefte, and clene out of myndeWhan the foule fende, father of vnhappynesPore man purposyth by falshode to begyleHe sendeth hym welth worldly, and fals rychesAnd causeth fortune, awhyle on hym to smyleWhiche with hir blyndenes doth mankynde so defyleThat whyle they trust in hir fauour to sore.They damme theyr soules in hell for euermoreBy large examples thou eche day mayste seThe chaunge of fortune and the ende vncertayneWherfore to boste the of hyr commodyteIt is great foly and also thynge in vayneFrom this lewdnes thy mynde therfore refrayneAnd be content with fortune moderateNor boste the nat of thy welth or estateThis day thou art ryche and despysest the poreYet so may it fall, that for thy lewde lyuyngeTo morowe thou beggest thy brede from dore to doreTherfore remembre that blynde fortune wandryngeHath nat in hyr handes power, nor gydyngeThe rewardes of welth, nor of felycyteBut god them gydeth by his great maiesteAnd all thynge chaungeth as is to hym plesauntHis dedes to wysdome alwaye agreableWherfore blynde fole be nat so ignorauntTo prayse fortune whiche is so varyableAnd of rewardes vnsure and chaungeableBut thoughe she smyle trust nat to hir intentFor amonge swete herbes ofte lurkyth the serpent
Amonge our folys he ought to haue a placeAnd so he shall for it is resonableWhiche thynketh hymselfe greatly in fortunes graceBostynge that she to hym is fauorableAs if hyr maner were nat to be mutableIn this vayne hope suche theyr lyfe doth ledeTyll at the laste theyr hous borne oure theyr hede
Amonge our folys he ought to haue a place
And so he shall for it is resonable
Whiche thynketh hymselfe greatly in fortunes grace
Bostynge that she to hym is fauorable
As if hyr maner were nat to be mutable
In this vayne hope suche theyr lyfe doth lede
Tyll at the laste theyr hous borne oure theyr hede
He shakyth boost and oft doth hym auaunteOf fortunes fauoure and his prosperyteWhiche suffreth hym nought of his wyll to wanteSo that he knoweth nought of aduersyteNor mysfortune nor what thynge is pouertee.O lawles fole, o man blyndyd of myndeSay what suretye in fortune canst thou fynde
He shakyth boost and oft doth hym auaunte
Of fortunes fauoure and his prosperyte
Whiche suffreth hym nought of his wyll to wante
So that he knoweth nought of aduersyte
Nor mysfortune nor what thynge is pouertee.
O lawles fole, o man blyndyd of mynde
Say what suretye in fortune canst thou fynde
To what ende or vnto what conclusyonShall fortune frayle vnrightwyse and vnsureLede the blynde fole by hyr abusyon.Howe darest thou the in hir blyndnes assure.Syns she vnstable is and can nat longe endureHir gyftis changith, she is blynde and sodayneThoughe she firste lawghe hir ende is vncertayne.
To what ende or vnto what conclusyon
Shall fortune frayle vnrightwyse and vnsure
Lede the blynde fole by hyr abusyon.
Howe darest thou the in hir blyndnes assure.
Syns she vnstable is and can nat longe endure
Hir gyftis changith, she is blynde and sodayne
Thoughe she firste lawghe hir ende is vncertayne.
Thou shakest boste ofte of hir foly in vayneFor he is most happy whiche can auoyde hir snareIf she exalte some one vnto welth mundayneShe bryngeth another to payne sorowe and careWhyle one is ladyd to the others backe is bareWhyle she a begger maketh in good aboundeA lorde or state she throweth to the grounde
Thou shakest boste ofte of hir foly in vayne
For he is most happy whiche can auoyde hir snare
If she exalte some one vnto welth mundayne
She bryngeth another to payne sorowe and care
Whyle one is ladyd to the others backe is bare
Whyle she a begger maketh in good abounde
A lorde or state she throweth to the grounde
But nat withstandynge hir mutabylyte.Thou bostest thy gode and to moche abundaunceThou bostest thy welth and thy prosperyteThy good auenturs, and plentyfull pleasaunceAlas blynde fole amende thy ygnoraunceAnd in thy welthe to this saynge intendeThat fortune euer hath an incertayne ende
But nat withstandynge hir mutabylyte.
Thou bostest thy gode and to moche abundaunce
Thou bostest thy welth and thy prosperyte
Thy good auenturs, and plentyfull pleasaunce
Alas blynde fole amende thy ygnoraunce
And in thy welthe to this saynge intende
That fortune euer hath an incertayne ende
Fals fortune infect of countenaunce and of faceBy hir iyen clowdy and varyable vysageHath many for a whyle taken to hir graceWhiche after by hir whele vnstable and volageHath brought them to wo mysfortune and damageShe ruleth pore and riche without differenceLewdnes exaltynge and damnynge innocence
Fals fortune infect of countenaunce and of face
By hir iyen clowdy and varyable vysage
Hath many for a whyle taken to hir grace
Whiche after by hir whele vnstable and volage
Hath brought them to wo mysfortune and damage
She ruleth pore and riche without difference
Lewdnes exaltynge and damnynge innocence
Thus is that man voyde, of all intellygenceWhom fortune fedyth, with chaunche fortunableIf he therin haue ouer large confydenceAnd thynke that sure that euer is mutableThat fole is sonne, to the fende abhomynableThat foloweth ryches, and fortune that is blyndeHis sauyour lefte, and clene out of mynde
Thus is that man voyde, of all intellygence
Whom fortune fedyth, with chaunche fortunable
If he therin haue ouer large confydence
And thynke that sure that euer is mutable
That fole is sonne, to the fende abhomynable
That foloweth ryches, and fortune that is blynde
His sauyour lefte, and clene out of mynde
Whan the foule fende, father of vnhappynesPore man purposyth by falshode to begyleHe sendeth hym welth worldly, and fals rychesAnd causeth fortune, awhyle on hym to smyleWhiche with hir blyndenes doth mankynde so defyleThat whyle they trust in hir fauour to sore.They damme theyr soules in hell for euermore
Whan the foule fende, father of vnhappynes
Pore man purposyth by falshode to begyle
He sendeth hym welth worldly, and fals ryches
And causeth fortune, awhyle on hym to smyle
Whiche with hir blyndenes doth mankynde so defyle
That whyle they trust in hir fauour to sore.
They damme theyr soules in hell for euermore
By large examples thou eche day mayste seThe chaunge of fortune and the ende vncertayneWherfore to boste the of hyr commodyteIt is great foly and also thynge in vayneFrom this lewdnes thy mynde therfore refrayneAnd be content with fortune moderateNor boste the nat of thy welth or estate
By large examples thou eche day mayste se
The chaunge of fortune and the ende vncertayne
Wherfore to boste the of hyr commodyte
It is great foly and also thynge in vayne
From this lewdnes thy mynde therfore refrayne
And be content with fortune moderate
Nor boste the nat of thy welth or estate
This day thou art ryche and despysest the poreYet so may it fall, that for thy lewde lyuyngeTo morowe thou beggest thy brede from dore to doreTherfore remembre that blynde fortune wandryngeHath nat in hyr handes power, nor gydyngeThe rewardes of welth, nor of felycyteBut god them gydeth by his great maieste
This day thou art ryche and despysest the pore
Yet so may it fall, that for thy lewde lyuynge
To morowe thou beggest thy brede from dore to dore
Therfore remembre that blynde fortune wandrynge
Hath nat in hyr handes power, nor gydynge
The rewardes of welth, nor of felycyte
But god them gydeth by his great maieste
And all thynge chaungeth as is to hym plesauntHis dedes to wysdome alwaye agreableWherfore blynde fole be nat so ignorauntTo prayse fortune whiche is so varyableAnd of rewardes vnsure and chaungeableBut thoughe she smyle trust nat to hir intentFor amonge swete herbes ofte lurkyth the serpent
And all thynge chaungeth as is to hym plesaunt
His dedes to wysdome alwaye agreable
Wherfore blynde fole be nat so ignoraunt
To prayse fortune whiche is so varyable
And of rewardes vnsure and chaungeable
But thoughe she smyle trust nat to hir intent
For amonge swete herbes ofte lurkyth the serpent
Barklay to the Folys.