Chapter 3

reappearing Dialogue as a fresh find in early English literature: "Few things are pleasanter in reading old books than to come on a passage of praise of our old poets, showing that in Tudor days men cared for the 'makers' of former days as we do still. To Mr David Laing's kindness I owe the introduction to the following quotation from a rare tract, where one wouldn't have expected to find such a passage," and then follows once more the whole passage so often quoted for the first time. Dr Rimbault, in an interesting note in a succeeding number of Notes and Queries (p. 234), is the first one acquainted with the Dialogue to state that "this amusing old work is perfectly well known, and has often been quoted from." So henceforth we may presume that this interesting and long-fertile field of discovery may be regarded as finally worked out.

* * * * *

A

BIBLIOGRAPHICAL CATALOGUE

OF

BARCLAY'S WORKS.

CONTENTS.

* * * * *

I. THE CASTELL OF LABOURE. II. THE SHYP OF FOLYS. III. THE EGLOGES. IV. THE INTRODUCTORY. V. THE MYRROUR OF GOOD MANERS. VI. CRONYCLE COMPLYED BY SALUST. VII. FIGURE OF OUR MOTHER HOLY CHURCH. VIII. THE LYFE OF SAYNT GEORGE. IX. THE LYFE OF SAYNTE THOMAS. X. HAYTHON'S CRONYCLE.

I. THE CASTELL OF LABOURE.--Wynkyn de Worde. 1506. Small Quarto. Black letter.

The title, "The castell of laboure," is within a scroll above a woodcut of men over a tub: on the verso, a cut of a man sitting at a desk. At sign. a ii. (recto) "Here begynneth the prologue of this present treatyse." [The Brit. Mus. copy has this on the verso of the title instead of the cut, a peculiarity which may entitle it to be called a separate edition, though it appears to agree otherwise with the copy described.] There are many curious woodcuts. Colophon on the reverse of sign. i iii. (51^b): "Thus endeth the castell of labour, wherin is rychesse, vertue, and honour. Enprynted at London in Fletestrete in the sygne of the sonne. by Wynkyn de worde. Anno d[=n]i M.ccccc.vi." There is no indication of authorship. Signatures: a b c d e f g h, alternately 8s and 4s, i 4; 52 leaves, not numbered. The British Museum and Cambridge University Library copies of this book have been collated, but as the former ends with H 3 and the latter wants the last leaf, that leaf must remain undescribed. Mr Bradshaw, however, says, "it almost certainly contained a woodcut on the recto, and one of the devices on the verso."

A copy of this very scarce book was sold among Mr. West's books in 1773 for £2.

I.a. THE CASTELL OF LABOURE.--Pynson. No date. Small Quarto. Black letter.

The title, "Here begynneth the castell of laboure," is over a woodcut; and on the reverse is a woodcut; both the same as those in the previous edition. In the body of the work there are 30 woodcuts, which differ from those of the first edition, one of these (at G 6) is a repetition of that on the title page. Colophon: "Thus endeth the castell of labour wherin is rychesse, vertue and honoure. Enprynted be me Richarde Pynson." After the colophon comes another leaf (I 6), on the recto of which is the printer's device, and on the verso a woodcut representing a city on the banks of a river. Without indication of authorship. Signatures: A, 8 leaves; B--I, in sixes.

"Neither Ames nor Herbert appear to have seen this rare volume; which is probably a reprint of Wynkyn de Worde's impression of 1506." (Dibdin's Typ. Antiq., II. 557.) There is a copy in the Library of H. Huth, Esq.

* * * * *

II. THE SHIP OF FOLYS OF THE WORLDE.--Pynson. 1509. Folio.

On the recto of the first leaf there is a large woodcut of Pynson's arms, or device No. VII., similar to that which is on the reverse of the last leaf of each of the volumes of his edition of Lord Berners' translation of Froissart's Chronicles; on the back of the first leaf is the translator's dedication to "Thomas Cornisshe, bishop of Tine, and suffragan bishop of Bath;" on the next leaf begins "The regyster or table of this present boke in Englyshe," (all as on pp. cxiii.--cxx.), succeeded by a Latin table. Then on sign. a i. and fol. i. a large woodcut, the same as is used for the title page of Cawood's edition (and on p. 313, Vol. II.), with a Latin description in the margin. Beneath is the title in Latin. On the back, "Alexander Barclay excusynge the rudeness of his translacion," followed with "An exhortacion of Alexander Barclay." Then on fol. ii., etc., follow in Latin, "Epigramma," "Epistola" in prose, and various "Carmina." On the back of fol. v. "The exhortacion of Brant to the fools" in Latin verse, followed by Barclay's version with the heading "Barclay the Translatour tho the Foles." On fol. iiii. the "Prologus Jacobi Locher ... incipit," followed by its translation into English. On fol. ix., etc., "Hecatastichon in proludium auctoris et Libelli Narragonici" and the English translation, "Here begynneth the prologe." On xii. "The Argument" in Latin and English, and then on xiii. commences the first chapter, "De inutilibus libris," in Latin, and then in English, which is the order throughout, with the cuts at the beginning of either the one or other as the page suited. The book concludes with a ballad in honour of the virgin Mary, consisting of twelve octave stanzas: at the end of which is the colophon in a stanza of seven lines. On the verso of the last leaf is the printer's device, No. v.

The Latin is uniformly printed in the Roman type, and the English in the Gothic. Herbert supposes the diphthongs to be "the first perhaps used in this kingdom."

The cuts are rude, coarse, English imitations of those in the original editions. They are, including the preliminary one, 118 in number. The cut illustrating the chapter, "Of them that correct other," etc., fol. liii. has been exchanged with the cut of the succeeding chapter. The cut illustrating "The unyuersall shyp and generall Barke," fol. cclxii., is repeated at the succeeding chapter. The one illustrating Barclay's new chapter "Of folys that ar ouer worldly" is an imitation of the illustration of "De singularitate quorundam novorum fatuorum" in the Latin edition of March 1497. The cut illustrating the ballad of the Virgin appears in the original at the head of "Excusatio Jacobi Locher Philomusi," and illustrates, according to the margin, "Derisio boni operis."

The word "Folium" is on the left hand page, and the number, in Roman capitals, on the right throughout the book; the last is cclxxiiii. Including the dedication and table (4 folios) there are 283 folios. The numbering is a model of irregularity: iiii. is repeated for vi., xx. stands for xv., xviii. is repeated, xx. is wanting, xxii. is repeated, xxiv. is wanting, xxx. is repeated, xxxvi. is wanting, xxxix. is repeated in place of xliv., xlviii. is wanting, xlix. is repeated, lvii is repeated after lxi., lviii follows twice, lix., lx., lxi. being repeated in succession after lviii., lxvii., lxviii. are repeated after lxviii., lxxxii. is wanting, lxxxiii. is repeated, lxxxii. stands for lxxxvii., lxxxiii. succeeds for lxxxviiii, cclxv. succeeds for lxxxix., lxxxxii. is repeated for lxxxxvii., [in the Grenville copy this leaf is correctly numbered], cxxxii is wanting, cxl. stands for cxxxviii., cxlxi. stands for cxlvi., clxxiv. is wanting, clxxxxxi. stands for cci., ccxii. is repeated for ccxvii., ccxxxviii. is wanting, cclx. stands for ccl., cclviii. is repeated for cclx.

The numeration by signatures is as follows: + iiij; a, 8; b--p, 6 s; q, 7; r, s, t, v, x, y, z, &, 6 s; A--Y, 6 s.

The book is extremely rare. There is a fine copy in the Bodleian Library among Selden's books, another in the British Museum, Grenville Collection, and another in the Library of St. John's College, Oxford.

The following are the more notable prices: Farmer, 1798, £2. 4s.; Sotheby's, 1821, £28; Dent, £30. 9s.; Bib. Anglo-Poetica, £105; Perkins, 1873, £130.

The following amusing note on prices is taken from Renouard's "Catalogue d'un Amateur." "Les premières éditions latines de ce singulier livre, celles des traductions françoises, toutes également remplies de figures en bois, ne déplaisent pas aux amateurs, mais jamais ils ne les ont payées un haut prix. La traduction angloise faite en 1509, sur le francois, et avec des figures en bois, plus mauvaises encore que leurs modèles, se paye en Angleterre 25, 30 et mème 60 guinées; c'est là, si l'on veut, du zèle patriotique, de l'esprit national."

II.a. STULTIFERA NAUIS.... THE SHIP OF FOOLES..... With diuers other workes.... very profitable and fruitfull for all men.... Cawood. 1570. Folio.

A large cut of vessels filled with fools (the same as on p. 313, Vol. II.) is inserted between the Latin and English titles. This edition omits the ballad to the Virgin at the end. The English is in black letter, and the Latin in Roman, in the same order as in the preceding edition. On the recto of leaf 259: Thus endeth the Ship of Fooles, translated ... by Alexander Barclay Priest, at that time Chaplen in the Colledge of S. Mary Otery in the Countie of Deuon. Anno Domini 1508. On the back "Excusatio Iacobi Locher Philomusi," in Sapphic verse. On the next page five stanzas by Barclay "excusing the rudenes of his Translation." Lastly, an Index in Latin, and then in English. Then, follow the "diuers other workes," the Mirrour of good maners, and the Egloges. Colophon: Imprinted at London in Paules Church-yarde by Iohn Cawood Printer to the Queenes Maiestie. Cum Priuilegio ad imprimendum solum.

The woodcuts, including the one on the title-page, number 117. They are the same as those of Pynson's edition, but show occasional traces of the blocks having been chipped in the course of their preservation in a printer's office for 60 years or so. The borders only differ, being of a uniform type, while those of the previous edition are woodcuts of several patterns.

The numbering is a little irregular; the preliminary leaves (12) are unnumbered. The folios are numbered in figures on the left hand page, 'folio' being prefixed to the first six, 16 is repeated for 17, 13 stands for 31, [in one of the Adv. Lib. copies the latter irregularity is found, though not the former; in the other, 17 and 31 are numbered correctly], 96 is repeated for 99, 188 for 191, 100 for 200, and 205 for 201. The last number is 259, and there are three extra leaves, thus making 274 for the Ship. The supplementary works are not numbered. The signatures are as follows: _The Ship_, ¶ six leaves; ¶¶ six leaves; A to U u, in sixes; X x, four leaves; _Mirrour of good manners_, A--G, in sixes; _Egloges_, A to D, in sixes; in all 680 pp.

This book was licensed to Cawood in 1567-8, and is said to be the only book he had license for. It is now very rare.

Prices: Digby, 1680, 4s. 4d. Bernard, 1698, 1s. 10d. Gulston, 1783, £1, 16s. White Knights, £8, 12s. Roxburghe, £9, 19s. 6d. Fonthill, £13, 13s. Bib. Anglo-Poet, £12, 12s. Heber, £8, 12s. Sotheby's, 1873, £48, 10s.

* * * * *

A complete bibliography of the various editions and versions of the Ship of Fools will be found in Zarocke's edition of the original, or in Graesse's Trésor de livres rares et précieux. A notice is subjoined of the two editions of the English prose translation, and of the two other publications bearing the title.

The abridged prose translation, by Henry Watson, from the French prose version of Jehan Droyn, appeared from the press of De Worde in the same year in which Barclay's fuller poetical version was issued. In both text and illustrations it is a much inferior production to the latter. As the existence of the first edition has been, and still is, denied, it being frequently confounded with Barclay's book, we transcribe the following description of the only known copy from Van Praet's "Catalogue des livres imprimés sur vélin de la Bibliotheque du Roi."

The Shyppe of Fooles, translated out of frenche, by Henry Watson. London, Wynkyn de Worde, 1509, petit in--4.

Edition en lettres de forme, sans chiffres ni réclames, avec signatures, figures et initiales en bois; à longues lignes, au nombre de 32 sur les pages entierès; cont. 169 f.; les 7 premiers renferment 1. le titre suivant, gravé audessus d'une figure qui représente le navire des fous:

¶ The shyppe of fooles.

2. Le prologue du traducteur; 3. la préface; 4. la table des chapitres.

Au recto du dernier f. est cette souscription:

¶ Thus endeth the shyppe of fooles of this worde. Enprynted at London in Flete strete by Wynk[=y] de worde prynter vnto the excellent pryncesse Marguerete, Countesse of Rychemonde and Derbye, and grandame vnto our moost naturall souereyne lorde kynge Henry [=y] viii. The yere of our lorde. M.CCCCC. ix. ¶ The fyrste yere of the reygne of our fouerayne lorde kynge Henry the viii. The. vi. daye of Julii. On aperçoit au verso le monogramme et la marque de William Caxton, au bas desquels on lit ces mots: Wynken de Worde."

This beautiful copy upon vellum is the only example of this edition known.

The grete Shyppe of Fooles of this worlde. W[=y]kyn de Worde. 1517. Quarto.

This is the second edition of Watson's translation. Colophon: "Thus endeth the shyppe of fooles of this worlde. Jmprynted at Londod in flete strete by W[=y]kyn de Worde. ye yere of our lorde M.CCCCC. & xvii.

¶ The nynthe yere of y^e reygne of our souerayne lorde kynge Henry y^e VIII. The xx. daye of June." It contains G G 6, fours and eights alternately (the signatures ending on G G iij.), besides 6 leaves, with the prologue, prolude and table, before signature A.

Extremely rare. Roxburghe, £64.

The Ship of Fools Fully Fraught and Richly Laden with Asses, Fools, Jack-daws, Ninnihammers, Coxcombs, Slenderwits, Shallowbrains, Paper-Skuls, Simpletons, Nickumpoops, Wiseakers, Dunces, and Blockheads, Declaring their several Natures, Manners and Constitutions; the occasion why this Ship was built, with the places of their intended Voyage, and a list of the Officers that bear Command therein.

If for this Voyage any have a mind, They with Jack Adams may acceptance find, Who will strain hard ere they shall stay behind.

Licensed, Roger L'Estrange. [A large woodcut of the Ship.]

London, Printed by J. W. for J. Clark, at the Bible and Harp in West-Smithfield. n. d. [Circa 1650.] 4to. 4 leaves.

"This book, or rather tract, has nothing in common with Barclay's Ship of Fools, except the general idea. It is entirely in prose. My copy has nothing to show to whom it formerly belonged."--(Letter of H. Huth, Esq.) The last sentence was elicited by the inquiry whether Mr Huth's copy were the one formerly belonging to Mr Heber.--See _Bibliotheca Heberiana_, Part IV., No. 752.

Stultifera Navis ... The modern Ship of fools. Lond. 1807, 80. Pp. xxiv., 295.

A wretched production in verse, in imitation of Barclay's Ship of Fools, published anonymously by W. H. Ireland, the Shakesperian forger.

* * * * *

III. THE EGLOGES OF ALEXADER BARCLAY, PREST.--The first three, without printer's name or device. No date. Quarto. Black letter.

"Here begynneth the Egloges of Alexader Barclay, prest, wherof the fyrst thre conteyneth the myseryes of courters and courtes of all prynces in generall, the matter wherof was translated into Englyshe by the sayd Alexander in fourme of Dialogues, out of a boke named in latyn Miserie Curialiu, compyled by Eneas Siluius, Poete and oratour, whiche after was Pope of Rome, & named Pius." This title is over a cut of two shepherds, Coridon and Cornix, the interlocutors in these three eclogues. On the back is a cut of David and Bathsheba. At the end of the third egloge: "Thus endyth the thyrde and last egloge of the mysery of court and courters, composed by Alexander Barclay, preste, in his youthe." A cut of the two shepherds and a courtier fills up the page. Without date, printer's name, or device. Contains P 6, in fours, the last leaf blank.

III.a. THE FOURTHE EGLOGE OF ALEXANDER BARCLAY.--Pynson. No date. Quarto. Black letter.

It is entitled, "The Boke of Codrus and Mynaclus," over the cut of a priest, with a shaven crown, writing at a plutus. It concludes with "The discrypcion of the towre of Vertue & Honour, into whiche the noble Hawarde contended to entre, by worthy acts of chiualry," related by Menalcas, in stanzas of eight verses. At the end, "Thus endeth the fourthe Eglogge of Alexandre Barcley, coteyning the maner of the riche men anenst poets and other clerkes. Emprinted by Richarde Pynson priter to the kynges noble grace." On the last leaf is his device, No. V. Contains 22 leaves, with cuts.

III.b. THE FYFTE EGLOGE OF ALEXANDER BARCLAY. --Wynkyn de Worde. No date. Quarto. Black letter.

"The fyfte Eglog of Alexandre Barclay of the Cytezen and vplondyshman." This title is over a large woodcut of a priest, sitting in his study. Beneath, "Here after foloweth the Prologe." On the verso of A ii. are two cuts of two shepherds, whole lengths, with this head-title, "Interlocutoures be Amyntas and Faustus." There are no other cuts. Colophon: "Here endeth the v. Eglog of Alexandre Barclay of the Cytezyn and vplondysshman. Imprynted at London in flete strete, at the sygne of [the] Sonne, by Wynkyn de worde." Beneath, device No. v. Contains A 8, B 4, C 6; 18 leaves. There is a copy in the British Museum.

With the first four Eclogues as above, Woodhouse, 1803, (Herbert's copy), £25.; resold, Dent, 1827, £36.; resold, Heber, 1834, £24. 10s. At Heber's sale this unique set, containing the only known copy of the first edition of the first four Eclogues, was bought by Thorpe; further I have not been able to trace it.

III.c. THE EGLOGES.--John Herforde. No date. Quarto.

"Here begynneth the Egloges of Alex. Barclay, Priest, whereof the first three conteineth the Miseries of Courters and Courtes." "Probably a reprint of Pynson's impression," Dibdin. Contains only Eclogues I.-III. Herbert conjectures the date to be 1548; Corser, 1546; Hazlitt, 1545.

III.d. THE EGLOGES.--Humfrey Powell. No date. Quarto. Black letter.

"Here begynneth the Egloges of Alexander Barclay, priest, whereof the first thre conteineth the miseries of courters and courtes, of all Princes in general ... In the whiche the interloquutors be, Cornix, and Coridon." Concludes: "Thus endeth the thyrde and last Eglogue of the Misery of Courte and Courters, Composed by Alexander Barclay preest, in his youth. Imprinted at London by Humfrey Powell." Contains only Eclogues I.-III. Collation: Title, A 1; sig. A to P2, in fours; 58 leaves not numbered.

This is an edition of extreme rarity. It is very well printed, and the title is surrounded with a woodcut border with ornamented pillars at the sides. Herbert conjectures the date to be 1549, the Bib. Anglo-Poetica, Lowndes, and Corser, 1548. There is a copy in the Cambridge University Library, and another in the possession of David Laing, Esq.

Prices: Inglis, £6. 2s. 6d.; Bright, 1845. £10. 10s.; Bib. Anglo-Poetica, £15.

III.e. CERTAYNE EGLOGES OF ALEXANDER BARCLAY PRIEST.--Cawood. 1570. Folio. Black letter.

Appended to Cawood's edition of the Ship of Fools. No title-page, cuts, or pagination. The above heading on A i.

Colophon: Thus endeth the fifth and last Egloge of Alexander Barclay, of the Citizen and the man of the countrey. Imprinted at London in Paules Church-yarde by Iohn Cawood, Printer to the Queenes Maiestie. Cum Priuilegio ad imprimendum solum.

Contains A--D, in sixes.

III._f_. THE CYTEZEN AND UPLONDYSHMAN: an Eclogue [the fifth] by Alexander Barclay.

Printed from the original edition by Wynkyn de Worde. Edited, with an Introductory Notice of Barclay and his other Eclogues, by F.W. Fairholt, F.S.A. London; printed for the Percy Society [vol. XXII.], 1847. 8vo. Pp. + 6, lxxiv., 47.

* * * * *

IV. THE INTRODUCTORY TO WRITE AND TO PRONOUNCE FRENCHE. Coplande. 1521. Folio. Black letter.

'Here begynneth the introductory to wryte, and to pronounce Frenche compyled by Alexander Barcley compendiously at the commaudemet of the ryght hye excellent and myghty prynce Thomas duke of Northfolke.' This title is over a large woodcut of a lion rampant, supporting a shield, containing a white lion in a border, (the same as that on the title of the Sallust, VI.), then follows a French ballad of 16 lines in two columns, the first headed, "R. Coplande to the whyte lyone, and the second, "¶ Ballade." On the recto of the last leaf, 'Here foloweth the maner of dauncynge of bace dauces after the vse of fraunce & other places translated out of frenche in englysshe by Robert coplande.' Col.: Jmprynted at London in the Fletestrete at the sygne of the rose Garlande by Robert coplande, the yere of our lorde. M.CCCCC.xxi. y^e xxii. day of Marche.' Neither folioed nor paged. Contains C 4, in sixes, 16 leaves.

In the edition of Palsgrave (see above, p. lxxiii.), published among the "Documents inédits sur l'histoire de France," the editor says of this work of Barclay's: "Tous mes efforts pour découvrir un exemplaire de ce curieux ouvrage ont été inutiles." There is a copy, probably unique, in the Bodleian; it was formerly Herbert's, afterwards Douce's.

All the parts of this treatise relating to French pronunciation have been carefully reprinted by Mr A. J. Ellis, in his treatise "On Early English Pronunciation" (published by the Philological Society), Part III., p. 804.

* * * * *

V. THE MYRROUR OF GOOD MANERS.----Pynson. No date. Folio. Black letter.

'Here begynneth a ryght frutefull treatyse, intituled the myrrour of good maners, coteynyng the iiii. vertues, callyd cardynall, compyled in latyn by Domynike Mancyn: And translate into englysshe: at the desyre of syr Gyles Alyngton, knyght: by Alexander Bercley prest: and monke of Ely. This title is over a cut, the same as at the head of Barclay's preface to his translation of Sallust, a representation of the author in a monkish habit on his knees, presenting a book to a nobleman. The text begins on back of title. The original is printed in Roman letter in the margins.----Colophon in a square woodcut border: Thus endeth the ryght frutefull matter of the foure vertues cardynall: Jmprynted by Rychard Pynson: prynter vnto the kynges noble grace: with his gracyous pryuylege the whiche boke I haue prynted, at the instance & request, of the ryght noble Rychard yerle of Kent. On the back, Pynson's device, No. v. It has neither running titles, catch-words, nor the leaves numbered. Signatures; A to G, in sixes, and H, in eights; 100 pp.

In the British Museum, Grenville collection, from Heber's collection. "This edition differs materially from that used by Herbert, which has led Dr Dibdin to the conclusion that there were two impressions." So says a MS. note on the copy, (quoted in the Bib. Grenv.), but Dibdin does not commit himself to the conclusion, his words being these: "This description is given from a copy in the possession of Mr Heber; which, from its varying with the account of Herbert, Mr H. supposes, with justice, must be a different one from Herbert's." I have failed to discover the difference.

Prices: Perry, £9.; Roxburghe (last leaf wanting), £10. 10s.; Bibliotheca Anglo-Poetica, £12. 12s.; Sykes, £16. 16s.

To the above edition must belong the fragment entered in Bohn's Lowndes under "Four," thus: "Four Vertues Cardinal. Lond. R. Pynson, n.d. folio. Only a fragment of this Poem is known; it was printed at the request of Rychard Erle of Kent."

V._a._. THE MIRROUR OF GOOD MANERS.----Cawood. 1570. Folio. Black letter.

Appended to Cawood's edition of the Ship of Fools. No title page, pagination, or cuts. The above heading on A 1. The Latin original printed in Roman by the side of the English. Contains A-G, in sixes.

It may be useful to give here the bibliography of the other English translations of Mancyn.

Mancinus de quattuor Virtutibus. [The englysshe of Mancyne apon the foure cardynale vertues.] No place, printer's name, or date, but with the types of Wynkyn de Worde, circa 1518. 4to, a-d, in eights. Bodleian.

Following the title occurs: Petri Carmeliani exasticon in Dominici Mancini de quattuor cardineis virtutibus libellum. The Latin portion is in verse, printed in Roman letter, with marginal notes in black letter, of a very small size, and the English in prose.

The English part, in black letter, is entitled: The englysshe of Mancyne apon the foure cardynale vertues. n.p. or d. This portion has a separate title and signatures; the title is on A 1. On sign. F ii. occurs, "The correccion of the englysshe," and on the verso of the same leaf is printed, "The correction of the texte." A, B, C, and D, 8 leaves each; E, 6 leaves; and F, 4 leaves; 42 leaves altogether. A copy of this is in the British Museum. Only two perfect copies are known.

A Plaine Path to Perfect Vertue: Deuised and found out by Mancinus, a Latine Poet, and translated into English by G. Turberuile, Gentleman.

Ardua ad virtutem via.

Imprinted at London in Knightrider-strete, by Henry Bynneman, for Leonard Maylard. Anno. 1568. 8vo., 72 leaves. Black letter, in verse. Dedicated "To the right Honorable and hys singular good Lady, Lady Anne, Coutesse Warvvicke." There is also a metrical address to the reader, and 8 4-line stanzas by James Sanford in praise of the translator.

Freeling, 1836, No. 911, £7., bought for Mr Corser: now in the British Museum. Supposed to be unique.

* * * * *

VI. CRONYCLE compyled in Latyn, by the renowned Sallust.----Pynson. No date. Folio.

"Here begynneth the famous cronycle of the warre, which the romayns had agaynst Jugurth, vsurper of the kyngdome of Numidy. which cronycle is compyled in latyn by the renowmed romayne Salust. And translated into englysshe by syr Alexander Barclay preest, at comaundement of the right hye and mighty prince: Thomas duke of Northfolke." There are two editions by Pynson of this book.

I. In this edition the lower half of the title page has a square enclosed by double lines containing the Norfolk arms, a lion rampant, holding a shield in his paws, on which is another lion, a cut which also appears on the title of The Introductory. There is a full page cut of the royal arms with portcullis, &c., on the back, followed by five pages of Table. The preface to his patron, in English,----together with a Latin dedication to Bishop Veysy, in parallel columns,----begins on the verso of signature A iiii, under a cut of the author presenting his book to him, the same as that which appears on the title of The myrrour of good maners. [See the cut prefixed to the Notice of Barclay's life, which is confined however to a reproduction of the two principal figures only, two other figures, evidently of servants, and some additional ornamentation of the room being omitted.] At the end of this preface is another cut of the author, writing at a desk; also on the back of the leaf is a cut of the disembarking of an army. There are no other cuts, but the volume is adorned throughout with very fine woodcut initials. Catchwords are given irregularly at the beginning, but regularly towards the end, at the bottom of the left hand page only, but the preface has them to every column. Colophon:----"Thus endeth the famous cronycle of the war ... imprented at London by Rycharde Pynson printer vnto the kynges noble grace: with priuylege vnto hym grauted by our sayd souerayne lorde the kynge." On the back of the last leaf is Pynson's device, No. v. The date is erroneously conjectured in Moss's Classical Bib. to be 1511. It was probably 1519, certainly between 1519 and 1524. Contains 92 numbered leaves, and one leaf unnumbered, besides eight leaves of preliminary matter: numbering quite regular: signatures; a 8, A--O, 6 s, P, Q, 4 s. In the British Museum, Grenville Collection, the Bodleian, and the Public Library at Cambridge.

Prices: Roxburghe, £23, 12s.; Sykes, £8, 12s.; Heber, £5, 15s. 6d.; Sotheby's, 1857, £10.

II. In this edition, the title page is the same as in the other with the exception of a semicolon for a full point after Numidy, the succeeding which having an e added, and romayne being without the e, but on the back instead of a cut of the royal arms The table commences; the preface begins on the recto of sign. a 4, under the cut of the author presenting his book to the Duke of Norfolk, and ends without the leaf of woodcuts which is appended to the preface of the first edition. Pynson's device at the end of the book is also wanting in this edition. It contains only fol. lxxxvi., with six leaves of preliminary matter; the pagination is a little irregular, xxi. and xxii. are wanting but xxiii. is given three times, and lxxvii. is repeated for lxxviii.; the British Museum copy is deficient in folios lxii. and lxv.: signatures; a 6, A--N, 6 s, and O, P, 4 s. The initials are the same as those in the first edition in the great majority of cases, but appear much more worn. There are catch-words only at the end of every signature throughout the book, except to the preface, which has them to every column. In the British Museum, and the Public Library, Cambridge.

Both editions have the Latin in Roman letter in the margins, and running-titles. Ames mentions an edition with cuts, which must be the same as the first of these.

VI._a._ CRONICLE OF WARRE. Compiled in Laten by Saluste. Corrected by Thomas Paynell. Waley, 1557. Quarto.

"Here begynneth the famous Cronicle of warre, whyche the Romaynes hadde agaynst Jugurth vsurper of the kyngedome of Numidie: whiche Cronicle is compiled in Laten by the renowmed Romayne Saluste: and translated into englyshe by syr alexander Barklaye prieste. And nowe perused and corrected by Thomas Paynell. Newely Jmprinted in the yere of oure Lorde God M.D.L vij." On the verso of the title begins Paynell's dedication--"To the ryghte honorable Lorde Antonye Vycounte Mountegue, Knyghte of the ryghte honorable order of the garter, and one of the Kynge and Queenes Magesties pryuie counsayle." "The prologue" begins on a 1. Barclay's preface and dedication are omitted, as well as the Latin of Sallust. Col.: "Thus endeth the famouse Cronicle of the warre ... against Jugurth ... translated... by syr Alexander Barkeley, prieste, at commaundemente of ... Thomas, duke of Northfolke, And imprinted at London in Foster lane by Jhon Waley." Signatures; H h, 4 s, besides title and dedication, two leaves: the pagination commences on a 4, at "The fyrste chapter," the last folio being cxx.; xxi. is repeated for xxii., xxiii. for xxiv., xix., stands for xxix., lvii. is repeated, and lxxiv. is repeated for lxxv.

This edition forms the second part of a volume having the following general title page: The Conspiracie of Catiline, written by Constancius Felicius Durantinus, and translated bi Thomas Paynell: with the historye of Jugurth, writen by the famous Romaine Salust, and translated into Englyshe by Alexander Barcklaye.

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VII. ALEX. BARCLAY HIS FIGURE OF OUR MOTHER HOLY CHURCH OPPRESSED BY THE FRENCHE KING. Pynson. Quarto.

This is given by Herbert on the authority of Maunsell's Catalogue, p. 7.

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VIII. THE LYFE OF THE GLORIOUS MARTYR SAYNT GEORGE. Translated by Alexander Barclay, while he was a monk of Ely, and dedicated to N. West, Bp. of Ely. Pinson [Circa 1530.] Quarto. [Herbert, 289].

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IX. THE LYFE OF SAYNTE THOMAS. Pynson. No date. Quarto. Black letter.

"¶ Here begynneth the lyfe of the blessed martyr saynte Thomas." This title is the headline of this little treatise; at the beginning of which is indented a small woodcut of a man in armour, striking at the bishop, with his cross-bearer before him. It begins "The martir saynte Thomas was son to Gylberde Bequet a burgeys of the Cite of London. And was borne in y^e place, whereas now standeth the churche called saynte Thomas of Akers." It concludes, "¶ Thus endeth the lyfe of the blessed martyr saynt Thomas of Caunturbury. Jmprynted by me Rycharde Pynson, prynter vnto the kynges noble grace." Contains eight leaves. There is a copy in the British Museum. Assigned to Barclay on tne authority of Wood.

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X. HAYTHON'S CRONYCLE. Pynson. No date. Folio. Black letter.

"Here begynneth a lytell Cronycle, translated & imprinted at the cost & charge of Rycharde Pynson, by the comaundement of the ryght high and mighty prince, Edwarde duke of Buckingham, yerle of Gloucestre, Staffarde, and of Northamton," over a large woodcut. Colophon: "Here endeth, [_&c_.] Imprinted by the sayd _Richarde Pynson_, printer unto the Kinges noble grace." Date conjectured to be between 1520 and 1530. Pynson's device, No. 5, at the end. Collation: A--E, and H, in sixes; F and G, and I, in fours; forty-eight leaves.

On the verso of fol. 35, "Here endeth y^e boke of thistoris of thoriet partes copyled by a relygious man frere Hayton frere of Premostre order, sotyme lorde of court & cosyn german to the kyng of Armeny vpon y^e passage of the holy lande. By the comaudement of y^e holy fader y^e apostle of Rome Clemet the V. in y^e cite of Potiers which boke I Nicholas Falcon, writ first in French ... I haue traslated it in Latyn for our holy father y^e pope. In the yere of our lorde god M.CCC.VII. in y^e moneth of August. Deo gras."

"The travels of Hayton into the Holy Land and Armenia, and his history of Asia, is one of the most valuable of the early accounts of the east. The present is the only translation into English, and from the circumstances of its being printed by Pynson and having been (when in Mr Heber's collection) bound with two other works (Mirrour of good Maners and Sallust) both translated by Barclay, was probably also translated by him. It is a book of extraordinaiy rarity, no perfect copy that can be traced having previously occured for sale." (Bibliotheca Grenvilliana, vol. I.)

Heber's copy (the one above mentioned), £40. 9s. 6d.

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THE SHIP OF FOOLS.

_Venerandissimo in Christo Patri ac Domino: domino Thome Cornisshe Tenenensis pontifici ac diocesis Badonensis Suffraganio vigilantissimo, sue paternitatis Capellanus humilimus Alexander Barclay suiipsius recommendacionem cum omni summissione, et reuerentia._

_Tametsi crebris negocijs: varioque impedimentorum genere fatigatus paulo diutiùs quàm volueram a studio reuulsus eram. Attamen obseruandissime presul: Stultiferam classem (vt sum tue paternati pollicitus) iam tandem absolui et impressam ad te destinaui. Neque tamen certum laborem pro incerto premio (humano. s.) meis impossuissem humeris: nisi Seruianum illud dictum (longe anteaqam inceperam) admonuisset. Satius esse non incipere quàm inceptum minus perfectum relinquere. Completo tamen opere: nec quemquam magis dignum quàm tua sit paternitas existimaui cui id dedicarem: tum quia saluberrima tua prudentia, morum grauitas, vite sanctitas doctrineque assiduitas: errantes fatuos mumdanis ab illecebris ad virtutis tramites: difficiles licet: possint reducere: tum vero: quia sacros ad ordines per te sublimatus et promotus, multisque aliis tuis beneficiis ditatus non potui tibi meum obsequium non coartare. Opus igitur tue paternitati dedicaui: meorum primicias laborum qui in lucem eruperunt Atque vt tua consuluerit paternatis: autoris carmina cum meis vulgaribus rithmicis vná alternatim coniunixi: et quantum a vero carminum sensu errauerim, tue autoritatis iudicium erit. Fateor equidem multo plura adiecisse quam ademisse: partim ad vicia que hac nostra in regione abundantius pullulant mordacius carpenda: partimque ob Rithmi difficultatem. Adieci etiam quasdam Biblie aliorumque autorum concordancias in margine notatas quo singula magis lectoribus illucescant: Simul ad inuidorum caninos latratus pacandos: et rabida ora obstruenda: qui vbi quid facinorum: quo ipsi scatent: reprehensum audierint. continuo patulo gutture liuida euomunt dicta, scripta dilacerant. digna scombris ac thus carmina recensent: sed hi si pergant maledicere: vt stultiuagi comites classem insiliant. At tu venerande Presul Discipuli tui exiguum munusculum: hilari fronte accipito, Classemque nostram (si quid vagum, si quid erronium: si quid denique superfluum emineat: optimam in partem interpretando: ab inuidorum faucibus: tue autoritatis clipeo tucaris. Vale. Ex Impressoria officina Richardi Pynson. iij. Idus Decembris._

¶ THIS PRESENT BOKE NAMED THE SHYP OF FOLYS OF THE WORLDE WAS TRANSLATED IN THE COLLEGE OF SAYNT MARY OTERY IN THE COUNTE OF DEUONSHYRE: OUT OF LATEN, FRENCH, AND DOCHE INTO ENGLYSSHE TONGE BY ALEXANDER BARCLAY PRESTE: AND AT THAT TYME CHAPLEN IN THE SAYDE COLLEGE. TRANSLATED THE YERE OF OUR LORDE GOD. M.CCCCC.VIII. IMPRENTYD IN THE CYTE OF LONDON IN FLETESTRE AT THE SIGNE OF SAYNT GEORGE. BY RYCHARDE PYNSON TO HYS COSTE AND CHARGE: ENDED THE YERE OF OUR SAUIOUR. M. D. IX. THE. XIIII. DAY OF DECEMBER.

TABULA.

¶ THE REGYSTER OR TABLE OF THIS PRESENT BOKE IN ENGLYSSHE.

[VOLUME I.]

¶ Alexander Barclay excusynge the rudenes of his translacion, y^e first lefe Barclay y^e translatour to y^e folys.

A prologe in prose shewynge to what intent this Boke was firste made, & who were the first Auctours of it.

Another Prologe: in Balade concernyng the same.

In what place this Boke was translate and to what purpose it was translatyd.

¶ Here begynneth the Folys and firste of inprofytable bokys.

¶ Of euyll Counsellours Juges & men of lawe.

Of couetyse and prodigalyte.

Of newe disgysynges in apparayle.

¶ A lawde of the nobles and grauyte of Kynge Henry the eyght.

Of olde Folys encresynge foly with age.

Of negligent Fathers ayenst their Children.

Of taleberers: & mouers of debate.

Of nat folowers of good counsel.

Of vngoodly maners, and dysordred.

Of the hurtynge of frendshyp.

Of dispysers of holy scripture.

Of folys inprouydent.

Of disordred & venerious loue.

Of them that synne trustynge vpon the mercy of almyghty god.

Of folys y^t begyn great byldynge without sufficient prouysion.

Of glotons, and droncardes.

Of ryches vnprofytable.

Of folys that wyl serue two lordes both togyther.

Of superflue speche.

Of them that correct other, them self culpable in the same faut.

Of folys that fynde others good, nat restorynge the same to the owner.

¶ The sermon or doctryne of wysdom.

Of Folys bostyng them in fortune.

Of the superflue curyosyte of men.

Of great borowers, & slacke payers.

Of vnprofitable vowers & peticions.

Of negligent stodyers.

Of them that folvsshly speke ayenst the workes of god.

Of lewde Juges of others dedes.

Of pluralytees of benefyces.

Of synners that prolonge from daye to day to amende theyr myslyuyng.

Of men that ar Jelous.

Of auoutry, and specially of suche as ar bawdes to theyr wyues.

Of suche as nedys wyll contynue in theyr foly nat withstandynge holsom erudicion.

An addicion of the secundaries of Otery saynt Mary, in Deuynshyre.

Of wrathfull folys.

Of the mutabylyte of fortune.

Of seke men inobedient.

Of to open councellers.

Of folys that can nat be ware by y^e mysfortune nor take example of others damage.

Of folys that force or care for the bacbytynge of lewde people.

Of mockers and fals accusers.

Of them that despyse euerlastynge blys for worldly thynges & transitory.

Of talkers and makers of noyse in the Chirche of god.

Of folys that put them self in wylful ieopardy and peryll.

Of the way of felycyte, and godnes and the payne to come to synners.

Of olde folys y^t gyue example of vyce to youth negligent & vnexpert.

Of bodely lust or corporall voluptuosyte.

Of folys that can nat kepe secrete theyr owne counsell.

Of yonge folys that take olde wymen to theyr wyues nat for loue but for ryches.

Of enuyous Folys.

Of impacient folys disdaynynge to abyde and suffer correccion, for theyr profyte.

Of folysshe Fesicians vsynge theyr practyke without speculacyon.

Of the ende of worldly honour & power and of folys y^t trust in them.

An addicion of Alexander barclay.

Of predestinacyon.

Of folys that aply other mennys besynes leuynge theyr owne vndone.

Of the vyce of ingratytude or vnkyndnes and folys that vse it.

Of Folys that stande to moche in theyr owne conceyte.

Of folys that delyte them in daunsynge.

Of nyght watchers.

Of the vanyte of beggers.

Alexander Barclay excusynge the rudenes of his translacion.

Go Boke: abasshe the thy rudenes to present. To men auaunced to worshyp, and honour. By byrthe or fortune: or to men eloquent. By thy submyssion excuse thy Translatour. But whan I remember the comon behauour Of men: I thynke thou ought to quake for fere Of tunges enuyous whose venym may the dere

Tremble, fere, and quake, thou ought I say agayne. For to the Redar thou shewest by euydence Thy selfe of Rethoryke pryuate and barayne In speche superflue: and fruteles of sentence. Thou playnly blamest without al difference Bothe hye and lowe sparinge eche mannes name. Therfore no maruayle thoughe many do the blame.

But if thou fortune to lye before a State As Kynge or Prince or Lordes great or smal. Or doctour diuyne or other Graduate Be this thy Excuse to content theyr mynde withal My speche is rude my termes comon and rural And I for rude peple moche more conuenient. Than for Estates, lerned men, or eloquent.

But of this one poynt thou nedest not to fere That any goode man: vertuous and Just. Wyth his yl speche shal the hurt or dere. But the defende. As I suppose and trust. But suche Unthriftes as sue theyr carnal lust Whome thou for vyce dost sharply rebuke and blame Shal the dysprayse: emperisshinge thy name.

An exhortacion of Alexander Barclay.

But ye that shal rede this boke: I you exhorte. And you that ar herars therof also I pray Where as ye knowe that ye be of this sorte: Amende your lyfe and expelle that vyce away. Slomber nat in syn. Amende you whyle ye may. And yf ye so do and ensue Vertue and grace. Wythin my Shyp ye get no rowme ne place.

Barclay the translatour tho the Foles.

To Shyp galantes the se is at the ful. The wynde vs calleth our sayles ar displayed. Where may we best aryue? at Lyn or els at Hulle? To vs may no hauen in Englonde be denayd. Why tary we? the Ankers ar vp wayed. If any corde or Cabyl vs hurt, let outher hynder. Let slyp the ende, or els hewe it in sonder.

Retourne your syght beholde vnto the shore. There is great nomber that fayne wold be aborde. They get no rowme our Shyp can holde no more. Haws in the Cocke gyue them none other worde. God gyde vs from Rockes, quicsonde tempest and forde If any man of warre, wether, or wynde apere. My selfe shal trye the wynde and kepe the Stere.

But I pray you reders haue ye no dysdayne. Thoughe Barclay haue presumed of audacite This Shyp to rule as chefe mayster and Captayne. Though some thynke them selfe moche worthyer than he. It were great maruayle forsoth syth he hath be. A scoler longe: and that in dyuers scoles But he myght be Captayne of a Shyp of Foles

But if that any one be in suche maner case. That he wyl chalange the maystershyp fro me Yet in my Shyp can I nat want a place. For in euery place my selfe I oft may se. But this I leue besechynge eche degre: To pardon my youthe and to bolde interprise. For harde is it duely to speke of euery vyce.

For yf I had tunges an hundreth: and wyt to fele Al thinges natural and supernaturall A thousand mouthes: and voyce as harde as stele. And sene all the seuen Sciences lyberal. Yet cowde I neuer touche the vyces all. And syn of the worlde: ne theyr braunches comprehende: Nat thoughe I lyued vnto the worldes ende.

But if these vyces whiche mankynde doth incomber. Were clene expellyd and vertue in theyr place. I cowde nat haue gathered of fowles so great a nomber. Whose foly from them out chaseth goddys grace. But euery man that knowes hym in that case To this rude Boke let hym gladly intende. And lerne the way his lewdnes to amende.

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[The Prologe of James Locher.]

After that I haue longe mused by my self of the sore confounded and vncertayne cours of mannys lyfe, and thinges therto belonginge: at the last I haue by my vigilant meditacion found and noted many degrees of errours: wherby mankynd wandreth from the way of trouth I haue also noted that many wyse men and wel lettred haue writen right fruteful doctrines: wherby they haue heled these dyseses and intollerable perturbacions of the mynde: and the goostly woundes therof, moche better than Esculapius which was fyrst Inuentour of Phesyke and amonge the Gentyles worshypped as a God. In the contrey of Grece were stodyes fyrst founded and ordeyned in the which began and sprange holsom medicyne which gaue vnto infect myndes frutful doctryne and norisshinge. Amonge whome Socrates that great begynner and honourer of wysdom began to dispute of ye maners of men. But for that he coude nat fynde certayne ende of goodnes and hyest felicite in naturall thinges: nor induce men to the same, he gaue the hye contemplacions of his mynde to moral vertues. And in so moche passed he al other in Philosophy moral that it was sayde that he called Philosophy down from the Imperial heuen. whan this Socrates perceyued the mindes of men to be prone, and extremely inclyned to viciousnes he had gret affeccion to subdue suche maners. Wherfore in comon places of the Cyte of Athenes he instruct and infourmed the peple in such doctrynes as compasith the clere and immaculate welles of the moste excellent and souerayne gode. After the disces of Socrates succeded ye godly Plato whiche in moral Philosophy ouerpassed also a great part of his tyme And certaynly nat without a cause was he called godly. For by what stody myght be more holely or better socour mankynde than by suche doctrynes as he gaue. He wrote and ordeyned lawes moste egal and iust He edityed vnto the Grekes a comon welthe stable, quyet and commendable. And ordeyned the societe and company of them most iocund and amyable. He prepared a brydel to refrayne the lust and sensualyte of the body. And fynally he changed the yl ignorance feblenes and negligence of youth vnto dylygence, strength and vertue. In tyme also of these Phylosophers sprange the florisshynge age of Poetes: whiche amonge lettred men had nat smal rowme and place. And that for theyr eloquent Retoryke and also for theyr mery ficcions and inuencions. Of the whiche Poetes some wrote in moste ornate termes in ditees heroycal wherin the noble actes and lyues both of dyuyne and humayne creatures ar wont to be noted and writem. Some wrote of tylling of the grounde. Some of the Planetes, of the courses of ye sterres: and of the mouynge of the heuyn and fyrmament. Some of the Empyre and shameful subieccion of disordred loue. And many other of the myserable ruyne and fal of Kynges and princes for vice: as Tragedies. And some other wrote Comedyes with great libertye of speche: which Comedies we cal Interludes. Amonge whome Aristophanes Eupolis and Cratinus mooste laudable Poetes passed al other. For whan they sawe the youth of Athenes and of al the remanent of Grece inclyned to al ylles they toke occasion to note suche myslyuinge. And so in playne wordes they repreued without fauour the vyces of the sayd yl disposyd peple of what condicion or order they were: Of this auncient wrytinge of Comedyes our laten Poetes deuysed a maner of wrytinge nat inelegant. And fyrst Lucilius composed one Satyre in the whiche he wrote by name the vices of certayne princes and Citezyns of Rome And that with many bourdes so y^t with his mery speche myxt with rebukes he correct al them of the cyte that disordredly lyued. But this mery speche vsed he nat in his writing to the intent to excercyse wanton wordes or vnrefrayned lascyuyte, or to put his pleasour in suche dissolute langage: but to ye intent to quenche vyces and to prouoke the commons to wysdome and vertue, and to be asshamed of theyr foly and excessyfe lyuynge. of hym all the Latyn poetes haue takyn example, and begynnynge to wryte Satyrs whiche the grekes named Comedyes: As Fabius specifyeth in his X boke of institucions. After Lucilius succeded Horacius, moche more eloquent in wrytynge whiche in the same deseruyd great laude: Persius also left to vs onely one boke by the whiche he commyttyd his name and laude to perpetuall memory. The last and prynce of all was Juuenall whiche in his iocunde poemys comprehendyd al that was wryten most eloquent and pleasaunt of all the poetis of that sorte afore his tyme: O noble men, and diligent hertes and myndes, o laudable maners and tymes, these worthy men exyled ydelnes, wherby they haue obtayned nat small worshyp and great commodyte example and doctryne lefte to vs theyr posteryours why begyn we nat to vnderstonde and perceyue. Why worshyp nat the people of our tyme these poetis why do nat they reuerence to ye interpretours of them do they nat vnderstonde: that no poetes wryte, but outher theyr mynde is to do pleasure or els profyte to the reder, or ellys they togyther wyll doo bothe profyte and pleasoure why are they dyspysed of many rude carters of nowe a dayes which vnderstonde nat them, And for lacke of them haue nat latyn to vtter and expresse ye wyl of their mynde. Se whether poetes ar to be dispised. they laude vertue and hym that vseth it rebukyng vices with the vsers therof, They teche what is good and what is euyll: to what ende vyce, and what ende vertue bringeth vs, and do nat Poetis reuyle and sharply byte in their poemys all suche as ar vnmeke, Prowde, Couetous, Lecherous, Wanton, delycyous, Wrathfull glotons, wasters, Enuyours, Enchauntours, faythebrakers, rasshe, vnauysed, malapert, drunken, vntaught foles, and suche lyke. Shulde theyr writyng that suche thinges disprayse and reuyle be dyspised of many blynde Dotardes y^t nowe lyue whiche enuy that any man shulde haue or vnderstonde ye thyng whiche they knowe nat. The Poetes also wyth great lawdes commende and exalt the noble folowers of vertue ascribyng to euery man rewardes after his merytes. And shortly to say, the intencion of al Poetes hath euer ben to repreue vyce: and to commende vertue. But syns it is so that nowe in our dayes ar so many neglygent and folysshe peple that they ar almost innumerable whiche despisynge the loue of vertue: folowe the blyndenes and vanyte of this worlde: it was expedient that of newe some lettred man, wyse, and subtil of wyt shulde awake and touche ye open vices of foles that now lyue: and blame theyr abhomynable lyfe. This fourme and lybertye of writinge, and charge hathe taken vpon hym the Right excellent and worthy Mayster Sebastian Brant Doctour of both the Lawes and noble Oratour and Poete to the comon welthe of al people in playne and comon speche of Doche in the contrey of Almayne: to the ymytacion of Dant Florentyne: and Francis Petrarche Poetes heroycal which in their maternal langage haue composed maruelous Poemes and ficcions. But amonge diuers inuencions composed of the sayde Sebastian brant I haue noted one named ye Shyp of Foles moche expedient and necessary to the redar which the sayd Sebastian composed in doche langage. And after hym one called James Locher his Disciple translated the same into Laten to the vnderstondinge of al Christen nacions where Laten is spoken. Than another (whose name to me is vnknowen) translated the same into Frenche. I haue ouersene the fyrst Inuencion in Doche and after that the two translations in Laten and Frenche whiche in blaminge the disordred lyfe of men of our tyme agreeth in sentence: threfolde in langage wherfore wylling to redres the errours and vyces of this oure Royalme of Englonde: as the foresayde composer and translatours hath done in theyr Contrees I haue taken vpon me: howbeit vnworthy to drawe into our Englysshe tunge the sayd boke named ye shyp of folys as nere to ye sayd thre Langages as the parcyte of my wyt wyll suffer me. But ye reders gyue ye pardon vnto Alexander de Barklay If ignoraunce negligence or lacke of wyt cause hym to erre in this translacion his purpose and synguler desyre is to content youre myndes. And sothely he hathe taken vpon hym the translacion of this present Boke neyther for hope of rewarde nor lawde of man: but onely for the holsome instruccion commodyte and Doctryne of wysdome, and to clense the vanyte and madnes of folysshe people of whom ouer great nombre is in the Royalme of Englonde. Therfore let euery man beholde and ouerrede this boke: And than I doute nat but he shal se the errours of his lyfe of what condycyon that he be. in lyke wyse as he shal se in a Myrrour the fourme of his countenaunce and vysage: And if he amende suche fautes as he redeth here wherein he knoweth hymself gylty, and passe forth the resydue of his lyfe in the order of good maners than shall he haue the fruyte and auauntage wherto I haue translatyd this boke.

* * * * *

Here begynneth the prologe.

Amonge the people of euery regyon And ouer the worlde, south north eest and west Soundeth godly doctryne in plenty and foyson Wherin the grounde of vertue and wysdome doth rest Rede gode and bad, and kepe the to the best Was neuer more plenty of holsome doctryne Nor fewer people that doth therto enclyne

We haue the Bybyll whiche godly doth expresse Of the olde testament the lawes mysticall And also of the newe our erour to redresse Of phylosophy and other artes liberall With other bokes of vertues morall But thoughe suche bokes vs godly wayes shewe We all ar blynde no man wyll them ensue

Banysshed is doctryne, we wander in derknes Throughe all the worlde: our selfe we wyll not knowe Wysdome is exyled, alas blynde folysshenes Mysgydeth the myndes of people hye and lowe Grace is decayed, yll governaunce doth growe Both prudent Pallas and Minerua are slayne Or els to heuyn retourned are they agayne

Knowledge of trouth, Prudence, and iust Symplicite Hath vs clene left: For we set of them no store. Our Fayth is defyled loue, goodnes, and Pyte: Honest maners nowe ar reputed of: no more. Lawyers ar lordes: but Justice is rent and tore. Or closed lyke a Monster within dores thre. For without mede: or money no man can hyr se.

Al is disordred: Vertue hathe no rewarde. Alas, Compassion: and Mercy bothe ar slayne. Alas, the stony hartys of pepyl ar so harde That nought can constrayne theyr folyes to refrayne But styl they procede: and eche other meyntayne. So wander these foles: incresinge without nomber. That al the worlde they vtterly encomber.

Blasphemers of Chryst; Hostlers; and Tauerners: Crakars and bosters with Courters auenterous, Bawdes and Pollers with comon extorcioners Ar taken nowe adayes in the worlde moste glorious. But the gyftes of grace and al wayes gracious We haue excluded. Thus lyue we carnally: Utterly subdued to al lewdnes and Foly.

Thus is of Foles a sorte almost innumerable. Defilynge the worlde with syn and Vylany. Some thynkinge them self moche wyse and commendable Thoughe al theyr dayes they lyue vnthryftely. No goodnes they perceyue nor to no goode aplye. But if he haue a great wombe, and his Cofers ful Than is none holde wyser bytwene London and Hul.

But to assemble these Foles in one bonde. And theyr demerites worthely to note. Fayne shal I Shyppes of euery maner londe. None shalbe left: Barke, Galay, Shyp, nor Bote. One vessel can nat brynge them al aflote. For yf al these Foles were brought into one Barge The bote shulde synke so sore shulde be the charge.

The sayles ar hawsed, a pleasant cole dothe blowe. The Foles assembleth as fast as they may dryue. Some swymmeth after: other as thycke doth rowe In theyr small botes, as Bees about a hyue The nomber is great, and eche one doth stryue For to be chefe as Purser and Capytayne Quarter mayster, Lodesman or els Boteswayne.

They ron to our shyp, eche one doth greatly fere Lyst his slacke paas, sholde cause hym byde behynde The wynde ryseth, and is lyke the sayle to tere Eche one enforseth the anker vp to wynde The se swellyth by planettes well I fynde These obscure clowdes threteneth vs tempest All are nat in bed whiche shall haue yll rest

We are full lade and yet forsoth I thynke A thousand are behynde, whom we may not receyue For if we do, our nauy clene shall synke He oft all lesys that coueytes all to haue From London Rockes almyghty god vs saue For if we there anker, outher bote or barge There be so many that they vs wyll ouercharge

Ye London Galantes, arere, ye shall nat enter We kepe the streme, and touche nat the shore In Cyte nor in Court we dare nat well auenter Lyst perchaunce we sholde displeasure haue therfore But if ye wyll nedes some shall haue an ore And all the remenaunt shall stande afar at large And rede theyr fautes paynted aboute our barge.

Lyke as a myrrour doth represent agayne The fourme and fygure of mannes countenaunce So in our shyp shall he se wrytyn playne The fourme and fygure of his mysgouernaunce What man is fautles, but outher ignoraunce Or els wylfulnes causeth hym offende: Than let hym nat disdayne this shyp, tyll he amende.

And certaynly I thynke that no creature Lyuynge in this lyfe mortall in transytory Can hym self kepe and stedfastly endure Without all spot, as worthy eternall glory But if he call to his mynde and memory Fully the dedys both of his youthe and age He wyll graunt in this shyp to kepe some stage

But who so euer wyll knowlege his owne foly And it repent, lyuynge after in sympylnesse Shall haue no place nor rowme more in our nauy But become felawe to pallas the goddesse But he that fyxed is in suche a blyndnesse That thoughe he be nought he thynketh al is well Suche shall in this Barge bere a babyll and a bell

These with other lyke may eche man se and rede Eche by themselfe in this small boke ouerall The fautes shall he fynde if he take good hede Of all estatis as degres temporall With gyders of dignytees spirituall Bothe pore and riche, Chorles and Cytezyns For hast to lepe a borde many bruse theyr shynnys

Here is berdles youth, and here is crokyd age Children with theyr faders that yll do them insygne And doth nat intende theyr wantones to swage Nouther by worde nor yet by discyplyne Here be men of euery science and doctryne Lerned and vnlerned man mayde chylde and wyfe May here se and rede the lewdenes of theyr lyfe.

Here ar vyle wymen: whome loue Immoderate And lust Venereall bryngeth to hurt and shame. Here ar prodigal Galantes: wyth mouers of debate. And thousandes mo: whome I nat wel dare name. Here ar Bacbyters whiche goode lyuers dyffame. Brakers of wedlocke, men proude: and couetous: Pollers, and pykers with folke delicious.

It is but foly to rehers the names here Of al suche Foles: as in one Shelde or targe. Syns that theyr foly dystynctly shal apere On euery lefe: in Pyctures fayre and large. To Barclays stody: and Pynsones cost and charge Wherfore ye redars pray that they both may be saued Before God, syns they your folyes haue thus graued.

But to thentent that euery man may knowe The cause of my wrytynge: certes I intende To profyte and to please both hye and lowe And blame theyr fautes wherby they may amende But if that any his quarell wyll defende Excusynge his fautes to my derysyon Knowe he that noble poetes thus haue done.

Afore my dayes a thousande yere ago Blamynge and reuylynge the inconuenyence Of people, wyllynge them to withdrawe therfro Them I ensue: nat lyke of intellygence And though I am nat to them lyke in science Yet this is my wyll mynde and intencion To blame all vyce lykewyse as they haue done.

To tender youth my mynde is to auayle That they eschewe may all lewdenes and offence Whiche doth theyr myndes often sore assayle Closynge the iyen of theyr intellygence But if I halt in meter or erre in eloquence Or be to large in langage I pray you blame nat me For my mater is so bad it wyll none other be.

* * * * *

[The Argument.]

Here after foloweth the Boke named the Shyp of Foles of the world: translated out of Laten, French and Doche into Englysse in the Colege of saynt Mary Otery By me Alexander Barclay to the felicite and moste holsom instruccion of mankynde the whiche conteyneth al suche as wandre from the way of trouth and from the open Path of holsom vnderstondynge and wysdom: fallynge into dyuers blyndnesses of ye mynde, folysshe sensualytees, and vndlawful delectacions of the body. This present Boke myght haue ben callyd nat inconuenyently the Satyr (that is to say) the reprehencion of foulysshnes, but the neweltye of the name was more plesant vnto the fyrst actour to call it the Shyp of foles: For in lyke wyse as olde Poetes Satyriens in dyuers Poesyes conioyned repreued the synnes and ylnes of the peple at that tyme lyuynge: so and in lyke wyse this our Boke representeth vnto the iyen of the redars the states and condicions of men: so that euery man may behold within the same the cours of his lyfe and his mysgouerned maners, as he sholde beholde the shadowe of the fygure of his visage within a bright Myrrour. But concernynge the translacion of this Boke: I exhort ye reders to take no displesour for y^t it is nat translated word by worde acordinge to ye verses of my actour. For I haue but only drawen into our moder tunge, in rude langage the sentences of the verses as nere as the parcyte of my wyt wyl suffer me, some tyme addynge, somtyme detractinge and takinge away suche thinges a semeth me necessary and superflue. wherfore I desyre of you reders pardon of my presumptuous audacite trustynge that ye shall holde me excused if ye consyder ye scarsnes of my wyt and my vnexpert youthe. I haue in many places ouerpassed dyuers poetical digressions and obscurenes of Fables and haue concluded my worke in rude langage as shal apere in my translacion. But the speciyl cawse that mouethe me to this besynes is to auoyde the execrable inconuenyences of ydilnes whyche (as saint Bernard sayth) is moder of al vices: and to the vtter derision of obstynat men delitynge them in folyes and mysgouernance. But bycause the name of this boke semeth to the redar to procede of derysion: and by that mean that the substance therof shulde nat be profitable: I wyl aduertise you that this Boke is named the Shyp of foles of the worlde: For this worlde is nought els but a tempestous se in the whiche we dayly wander and are caste in dyuers tribulacions paynes and aduersitees: some by ignoraunce and some by wilfulnes: wherfore suche doers ar worthy to be called foles. syns they gyde them nat by reason as creatures resonable ought to do. Therfore the fyrst actoure willynge to deuyde suche foles from wysemen and gode lyuers: hathe ordeyned vpon the se of this worlde this present Shyp to contayne these folys of ye worlde, whiche ar in great nomber. So that who redeth it perfytely consyderynge his secrete dedys, he shall not lyghtly excuse hym selfe out of it, what so euer good name y^t he hath outwarde in the mouth of the comontye, And to the entent y^t this my laboure may be the more pleasaunt vnto lettred men, I haue adioyned vnto the same ye verses of my Actour with dyuerse concordaunces of the Bybyll to fortyfy my wrytynge by the same, and also to stop the enuyous mouthes (If any suche shal be) of them that by malyce shall barke ayenst this my besynes.

* * * * *

Here begynneth the foles and first inprofytable bokes.

That in this shyp the chefe place I gouerne By this wyde see with folys wanderynge The cause is playne, and easy to dyscerne Styll am I besy bokes assemblynge For to haue plenty it is a plesaunt thynge In my conceyt and to haue them ay in honde But what they mene do I nat vnderstonde

But yet I haue them in great reuerence And honoure sauynge them from fylth and ordure By often brusshynge, and moche dylygence Full goodly bounde in pleasaunt couerture Of domas, satyn, or els of veluet pure I kepe them sure ferynge lyst they sholde be lost For in them is the connynge wherin I me bost.

But if it fortune that any lernyd men Within my house fall to disputacion I drawe the curtyns to shewe my bokes then That they of my cunnynge sholde make probacion I kepe nat to fall in altercacion And whyle they comon my bokes I turne and wynde For all is in them, and no thynge in my mynde.

Tholomeus the riche causyd longe agone Ouer all the worlde good bokes to be sought Done was his commaundement anone These bokes he had and in his stody brought Whiche passyd all erthly treasoure as he thought But neuertheles he dyd hym nat aply Unto theyr doctryne, but lyued unhappely.

Lo in lyke wyse of bokys I haue store But fewe I rede, and fewer understande I folowe nat theyr doctryne nor theyr lore It is ynoughe to bere a boke in hande It were to moche to be it suche a bande For to be bounde to loke within the boke I am content on the fayre couerynge to loke

Why sholde I stody to hurt my wyt therby Or trouble my mynde with stody excessyue Sythe many ar whiche stody right besely And yet therby shall they neuer thryue The fruyt of wysdom can they nat contryue And many to stody so moche are inclynde That utterly they fall out of theyr mynde

Eche is nat lettred that nowe is made a lorde Nor eche a clerke that hath a benefyce They are nat all lawyers that plees doth recorde All that are promotyd are nat fully wyse On suche chaunce nowe fortune throwys hir dyce That thoughe one knowe but the yresshe game Yet wolde he haue a gentyllmannys name

So in lyke wyse I am in suche case Thoughe I nought can I wolde be callyd wyse Also I may set another in my place Whiche may for me my bokes excercyse Or else I shall ensue the comon gyse And say concedo to euery argument Lyst by moche speche my latyn sholde be spent

I am lyke other Clerkes whiche so frowardly them gyde. That after they ar onys come vnto promocion They gyue them to plesour theyr stody set asyde. Theyr Auaryce couerynge with fayned deuocion. Yet dayly they preche: and haue great derysyon Against the rude Laymen: and al for Couetyse. Though theyr owne Conscience be blynded w^t that vyce.

But if I durst trouth playnely vtter and expresse. This is the special cause of this Inconuenyence. That greatest foles, and fullest of lewdnes Hauynge least wyt: and symplest Science Ar fyrst promoted: and haue greatest reuerence For if one can flater, and bere a hawke on his Fyst He shalbe made Person of Honyngton or of Clyst.

But he that is in Stody ay ferme and diligent. And without al fauour prechyth Chrystys lore Of al the Comontye nowe adayes is sore shent. And by Estates thretened to Pryson oft therfore. Thus what auayle is it, to vs to Stody more: To knowe outher scripture, trouth, wysedom, or vertue Syns fewe, or none without fauour dare them shewe.

But O noble Doctours, that worthy ar of name: Consyder our olde faders: note wel theyr diligence: Ensue ye theyr steppes: obtayne ye such fame, As they dyd lyuynge: and that by true Prudence. Within theyr hartys they planted theyr scyence And nat in plesaunt bokes. But nowe to fewe suche be. Therefore in this Shyp let them come rowe with me.

THE ENUOY OF ALEXANDER BARCLAY TRANSLATOUR EXORTYNGE THE FOLES ACCLOYED WITH THIS VICE TO AMENDE THEYR FOLY.

Say worthy doctours and Clerkes curious: What moueth you of Bokes to haue such nomber. Syns dyuers doctrines throughe way contrarious. Doth mannys mynde distract and sore encomber. Alas blynde men awake, out of your slomber And if ye wyl nedys your bokes multyplye With diligence endeuer you some to occupye.

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Of euyl Counsellours, Juges and men of lawe.

Right many labours nowe, with hyghe diligence For to be Lawyers the Comons to counsayle. Therby to be in honour had and in reuerence But onely they labour for theyr pryuate auayle. The purs of the Clyent shal fynde hym apparayle. And yet knowes he neyther lawe good counsel nor Justice. But speketh at auenture: as men throwe the dyce.

Suche in the Senate ar taken oft to counsayle With Statis of this and many a other region. Whiche of theyr maners vnstable ar and frayle Nought of Lawe Ciuyl knowinge nor Canon. But wander in derknes clerenes they haue none. O noble Rome thou gat nat thy honours Nor general Empyre by suche Counsellours.

Whan noble Rome all the worlde dyd gouerne Theyr councellers were olde men iust and prudent Whiche egally dyd euery thynge descerne Wherby theyr Empyre became so excellent But nowe a dayes he shall haue his intent That hath most golde, and so it is befall That aungels worke wonders in westmynster hall.

There cursyd coyne makyth the wronge seme right The cause of hym that lyueth in pouertye Hath no defence, tuycion, strength nor myght Suche is the olde custome of this faculte That colours oft cloke Justyce and equyte None can the mater fele nor vnderstonde Without the aungell be weyghty in his honde

Thus for the hunger of syluer and of golde Justyce and right is in captyuyte And as we se nat gyuen fre, but solde Nouther to estates, nor sympell comonte And though that many lawyers rightwysnes be Yet many other dysdayne to se the ryght And they ar suche as blynde Justycis syght

There is one and other alleged at the barre And namely suche as chrafty were in glose Upon the lawe: the clyentis stande afarre Full lytell knowynge howe the mater goose And many other the lawes clene transpose Folowynge the example, of lawyers dede and gone Tyll the pore Clyentis be etyn to the bone

It is not ynough to conforme thy mynde Unto the others faynyd opynyon Thou sholde say trouthe, so Justyce doth the bynde And also lawe gyueth the commyssyon To knowe hir, and kepe hir without transgressyon Lyst they whome thou hast Juged wrongfully Unto the hye Juge for vengeaunce on the crye.

Perchaunce thou thynkest that god taketh no hede To mannes dedys, nor workes of offence Yes certaynly he knowes thy thought and dede No thynge is secrete, nor hyd from his presence Wherefore if thou wylt gyde the by prudence Or thou gyue Jugement of mater lesse or more Take wyse mennys reade and good counsayle before

Loke in what Balance, what weyght and what mesure Thou seruest other. for thou shalt serued be With the same after this lyfe I the ensure. If thou ryghtwysly Juge by lawe and equyte Thou shalt haue presence of goddes hyghe maiestye But if thou Juge amys: than shall Eacus (As Poetis sayth) hell Juge thy rewarde discusse

God is aboue and regneth sempiternally. Whiche shall vs deme at his last Jugement, And gyue rewardes to echone egally After suche fourme as he his lyfe hath spent Than shall we them se whome we as violent Traytours: haue put to wronge in worde or dede And after our deserte euen suche shall be our mede

There shall be no Bayle nor treatynge of maynpryse Ne worldly wysdome there shall no thynge preuayle There shall be no delayes vntyll another Syse But outher quyt, or to infernall Gayle. Ill Juges so iuged, Lo here theyr trauayle Worthely rewarded in wo withouten ende. Than shall no grace be graunted ne space to amende.

THE ENUOY OF ALEXANDER BARCLAY THE TRANSLATOUR.

Therfore ye yonge Studentes of the Chauncery: (I speke nat to the olde the Cure of them is past) Remember that Justyce longe hath in bondage be Reduce ye hir nowe vnto lybertye at the last. Endeuer you hir bondes to louse or to brast Hir raunsome is payde and more by a thousande pounde And yet alas the lady Justyce lyeth bounde.

Thoughe your fore Faders haue take hir prysoner And done hir in a Dongeon nat mete for hir degre Lay to your handes and helpe hir from daungere And hir restore vnto hir lybertye That pore men and monyles may hir onys se But certaynly I fere lyst she hath lost hir name Or by longe prysonment shall after euer be lame.

* * * * *

Of Auaryce or Couetyse and prodygalyte.

He that is besy euery day and houre Without mesure, maner, or moderacion To gather riches and great store of treasoure Therof no ioy takinge, confort nor consolacion. He is a Fole: and of blynde and mad opynyon For that which he getteth and kepeth wrongfully His heyre often wasteth moche more vnthryftely.

While he here lyueth in this lyfe caduke and mortal. Ful sore he laboureth: and oft hungry gothe to bed Sparinge from hymselfe: for hym that neuer shal After do hym goode. thoughe he were harde bested. Thus is this Couetous wretche so blyndly led By the fende that here he lyueth wretchydly And after his deth damned eternally.

There wandreth he in dolour and derknes Amonge infernall flodes tedyous and horryble Let se what auayleth than all his ryches Ungracyously gotyne, his paynes ar terryble Than wolde he amende but it is inpossyble In hell is no order nor hope of remedy But sorowe vpon sorowe, and that euerlastyngly.

Yet fynde I another vyce as bad as this Whiche is the vyce of prodygalyte He spendyth all in ryot and amys Without all order, pursuynge pouertye He lyketh nat to lyue styll in prosperite But all and more he wastyth out at large (Beware the ende) is the leste poynt of his charge.

But of the couetous somwhat to say agayne Thou art a fole thy soule to sell for riches Or put thy body to labour or to payne Thy mynde to fere, thy herte to heuynesse Thou fole thou fleest no maner cruelnesse So thou may get money, to make thy heyr a knyght Thou sleest thy soule where as thou saue it myght

Thou hast no rest thy mynde is euer in fere Of mysauenture, nor neuer art content Deth is forgoten, thou carest nat a here To saue thy soule from infernall punysshement If thou be dampned, than art thou at thy stent By thy ryches which thou here hast left behynde To thy executours, thou shalt small comforte fynde

Theyr custome is to holde fast that they haue Thy pore soule shall be farthest fro theyr thought If that thy carkes be brought onys in the graue And that they haue thy bagges in handes cought What say they, than (by god the man had nought) Whyle he here lyuyd he was to lyberall Thus dampned is thy soule, thy ryches cause of all

Who wyll denay but it is necesary Of riches for to haue plenty and store To this opynyon I wyll nat say contrary So it be ordred after holy lore Whyle thy selfe leuest departe some to the pore With thy owne hande trust nat thy executours Gyue for god, and god shall sende at all houres

Rede Tullius warkes the worthy Oratour. And writen shalt thou fynde in right fruteful sentence That neuer wyseman loued ouer great honour. Nor to haue great riches put ouer great diligence But onely theyr mynde was set on Sapience And quyetly to lyue in Just symplycite. For in greatest honour is greatest ieoperdye.

He that is symple, and on the grounde doth lye And that can be content with ynoughe or suffisaunce Is surer by moche than he that lyeth on hye. Nowe vp nowe downe vnsure as a Balaunce. But sothly he that set wyll his plesance Onely on wysdom and styl therfore labour. Shal haue more goode than all erthly tresour.

Wysdom techeth to eschewe al offence. Gydynge mankynde the ryght way to vertue. But of couetyse Comys all Inconuenyence. It cawseth man of worde to be vntrue. Forswerynge and falshode doth it also ensue. Brybery and Extorcion, murder and myschefe. Shame is his ende: his lyuyinge is reprefe.

By couetyse Crassus brought was to his ende. By it the worthy Romayns lost theyr name. Of this one yl a thousand ylles doth descende. Besyde enuy, Pryde, wretchydnes and Shame. Crates the Philosopher dyd Couetyse so blame: That to haue his mynde vnto his stody fre. He threwe his Tresour all hole into the see.

But shortly to conclude. Both bodely bondage. And gostly also: procedeth of this couetyse. The soule is damned the body hath damage As hunger, thyrst, and colde with other preiudice. Bereft of the ioyes of heuenly Paradyse. For golde was theyr god and that is left behynde Theyr bodyes beryed the soule clene out of mynde

THE ENUOY OF ALEXANDER BARCLAY TRANSLATOUR.

Therefore thou couetouse thou wretch I speke to the. Amende thy selfe ryse out of this blyndenes. Content the wyth ynoughe for thy degre. Dam nat thy soule by gatheringe frayle riches Remembre this is a Uale of wretchednes. Thou shalt no rest nor dwellynge place here fynde. Depart thou shalt and leue it al behynde.

* * * * *

Of newe fassions and disgised Garmentes.

Drawe nere ye Courters and Galants disgised Ye counterfayt Caytifs, that ar nat content As god hath you made: his warke is despysed Ye thynke you more crafty than God onipotent. Unstable is your mynde: that shewes by your garment. A fole is knowen by his toyes and his Cote. But by theyr clothinge nowe may we many note.

Aparayle is apayred. Al sadness is decayde The garmentes ar gone that longed to honestye. And in newe sortes newe Foles ar arayede Despisynge the costom of good antiquyte. Mannys fourme is disfigured with euery degre As Knyght Squyer yeman Jentilman and knaue, For al in theyr goynge vngoodely them behaue

The tyme hath ben, nat longe before our dayes Whan men with honest ray coude holde them self content. Without these disgised: and counterfayted wayes. Wherby theyr goodes ar wasted, loste, and spent. Socrates with many mo in wysdom excellent. Bycause they wolde nought change that cam of nature Let growe theyre here without cuttinge or scissure.

At that tyme was it reputed to lawde and great honour. To haue longe here: the Beerde downe to the brest For so they vsed that were of moste valour. Stryuynge together who myht be godlyest Saddest, moste clenely, discretest, and moste honest. But nowe adayes together we contende and stryue. Who may be gayest: and newest wayes contryue.

Fewe kepeth mesure, but excesse and great outrage In theyr aparayle. And so therin they procede That theyr goode is spent: theyr Londe layde to morgage. Or solde out right: of Thryft they take no hede. Hauinge no Peny them to socour at theyr nede. So whan theyr goode by suche wastefulnes is loste. They sel agayne theyr Clothes for half that they coste.

A fox furred Jentelman: of the fyrst yere or hede. If he be made a Bailyf a Clerke or a Constable. And can kepe a Parke or Court and rede a Dede Than is Ueluet to his state mete and agreable. Howbeit he were more mete to here a Babyl. For his Foles Hode his iyen so sore doth blynde That Pryde expelleth his lynage from his mynde.

Yet fynde I another sort almoste as bad as thay. As yonge Jentylmen descended of worthy Auncetry. Whiche go ful wantonly in dissolute aray. Counterfayt, disgised, and moche vnmanerly Blasinge and garded: to lowe or else to hye. And wyde without mesure: theyr stuffe to wast thus gothe But other some they suffer to dye for lacke of clothe.

Some theyr neckes charged with colers, and chaynes As golden withtthes: theyr fyngers ful of rynges: Theyr neckes naked: almoste vnto the raynes Theyr sleues blasinge lyke to a Cranys wynges Thus by this deuysinge suche counterfayted thinges They dysfourme that figure that god hymselfe hath made On pryde and abusion thus ar theyr myndes layde.

Than the Courters careles that on theyr mayster wayte Seinge hym his Uesture in suche fourme abuse Assayeth suche Fassion for them to counterfayte. And so to sue Pryde contynually they muse. Than stele they; or Rubbe they. Forsoth they can nat chuse. For without Londe or Labour harde is it to mentayne. But to thynke on the Galows that is a careful payne.

But be it payne or nat: there many suche ende. At Newgate theyr garmentis ar offred to be solde. Theyr bodyes to the Jebet solemly ascende. Wauynge with the wether whyle theyr necke wyl holde. But if I shulde wryte al the ylles manyfolde. That procedeth of this counterfayt abusion And mysshapen Fassions: I neuer shulde haue done.

For both States, comons, man, woman, and chylde Ar vtterly inclyed to this inconuenyence. But namely therwith these Courters are defyled. Bytwen mayster and man I fynde no dyfference. Therfore ye Courters knowledge your offence. Do nat your errour mentayne, support nor excuse. For Fowles ye ar your Rayment thus to abuse.

To Shyp Galauntes come nere I say agayne. Wyth your set Busshes Curlynge as men of Inde. Ye counterfayted Courters come with your fleinge brayne Expressed by these variable Garmentes that ye fynde. To tempt chast Damsels and turne them to your mynde Your breste ye discouer and necke. Thus your abusion Is the Fendes bate. And your soules confusion.

Come nere disgysed foles: receyue your Foles Hode. And ye that in sondry colours ar arayde. Ye garded galantes wastinge thus your goode Come nere with your Shertes brodered and displayed. In fourme of Surplys. Forsoth it may be sayde. That of your Sort right fewe shal thryue this yere. Or that your faders werith suche Habyte in the Quere.

And ye Jentyl wymen whome this lewde vice doth blynde Lased on the backe: your peakes set a loft. Come to my Shyp. forget ye nat behynde. Your Sadel on the tayle: yf ye lyst to sit soft. Do on your Decke Slut: if ye purpos to come oft. I mean your Copyntanke: And if it wyl do no goode. To kepe you from the rayne. ye shall haue a foles hode.

By the ale stake knowe we the ale hous And euery Jnne is knowen by the sygne So a lewde woman and a lechcrous Is knowen by hir clothes, be they cours or fyne Folowynge newe fassyons, not graunted by doctryne The bocher sheweth his flesshe it to sell So doth these women dampnyng theyr soule to hell

What shall I more wryte of our enormyte Both man and woman as I before haue sayde Ar rayde and clothyd nat after theyr degre As nat content with the shape that god hath made The clenlynes of Clergye is nere also decayed. Our olde apparale (alas) is nowe layde downe And many prestes asshamed of theyr Crowne.

Unto laymen we vs refourme agayne As of chryste our mayster in maner halfe asshamed My hert doth wepe: my tunge doth sore complayne Seing howe our State is worthy to be blamed. But if all the Foly of our Hole Royalme were named Of mys apparayle of Olde, young, lowe, and hye, The tyme shulde fayle: and space to me denye.

Alas thus al states of Chrysten men declynes. And of wymen also disfourmynge theyr fygure. Wors than the Turkes, Jewes, or Sarazyns. A Englonde Englonde amende or be thou sure Thy noble name and fame can nat endure Amende lyst god do greuously chastyce. Bothe the begynners and folowes of this vyce.

THE ENUOY OF ALEXANDER BARCLAY YE TRANSLATOUR.

Reduce courters clerly vnto your rembrance From whens this disgysyng was brought wherein ye go As I remember it was brought out of France. This is to your plesour. But payne ye had also. As French Pockes hote ylles with other paynes mo. Take ye in good worth the swetnes with the Sour. For often plesour endeth with sorowe and dolour.

But ye proude Galaundes that thus yourselfe disgise Be ye asshamed. beholde vnto your Prynce. Consyder his sadnes: His honestye deuyse His clothynge expresseth his inwarde prudence Ye se no Example of suche Inconuenyence In his hyghnes: but godly wyt and grauyte. Ensue hym: and sorowe for your enormyte.

Away with this pryde, this statelynes let be Rede of the Prophetis clothynge or vesture And of Adam firste of your ancestrye Of Johnn the Prophete, theyr clothynge was obscure Uyle and homly, but nowe what creature Wyll then eusue, sothly fewe by theyr wyll Therfore suche folys my nauy shall fulfyll

* * * * *

Of old folys that is to say the longer they lyue the more they ar gyuen to foly.

The madnes of my youthe rotyd in my age And the blynde foly of my iniquite Wyll me nat suffer to leue myne old vsage Nor my fore lyuynge full of enormyte Lame ar his lymmys, and also I can nat se I am a childe and yet lyuyd haue I An hundreth wynter, encresynge my foly.

But though I myght lerne my wyll is nat therto But besy I am and fully set my thought To gyue example to children to mysdo By my lewde doctryne bryngynge them to nought And whan they ar onys into my daunce brought I teche them my foly wysdome set asyde My selfe example, begynner, and theyr gyde.

My lewde lyfe, my foly and my selfwyllyd mynde Whiche I haue styll kept hytherto in this lyfe In my testament I leue wryten behynde Bequethyng parte both to man childe and wyfe I am the actour of myschefe and of stryfe The foly of my youth and the inconuenyence In age I practyse, techynge by experyence

I am a fole and glad am of that name Desyrynge lawde for eche vngracious dede And of my foly to spred abrode the same To showe my vyce and synne, as voyde of drede Of heuen or hell. therfore I take no hede But as some stryue disputynge of theyr cunnynge Right so do I in lewdnes and myslyuynge.

Somtyme I bost me of falshode and dysceyt Somtyme of the sede that sawyn is by me Of all myschefe, as murder flatery debate Couetyse bacbytynge theft and lechery My mynde is nat to mende my iniquyte But rather I sorowe that my lyfe is wore That I can nat do as I haue done before

But syns my lyfe so sodaynly dothe apeyre That byde I can nat styll in this degre I shall infourme and teche my sone and heyre To folowe his fader, and lerne this way of me The way is large, god wot glad shall he be Lernynge my lore with affeccion and desyre And folowe the steppys of his vnthryfty syre

I trust so crafty and wyse to make the lad That me his father he shall pas and excell O that my herte shall than be wonder glad If I here of may knowe, se, or here tell If he be false faynynge sotyll or cruell And so styll endure I haue a speciall hope To make hym scrybe to a Cardynall or Pope.

Or els if he can be a fals extorcyoner Fasynge and bostynge to scratche and to kepe He shall be made a comon costomer As yche hope of Lyn Calays or of Depe Than may he after to some great offyce crepe So that if he can onys plede a case He may be made Juge of the comon place.

Thus shall he lyue as I haue all his dayes And in his age increas his folysshenes His fader came to worshyp by suche ways So shall the sone, if he hym selfe addres To sue my steppes in falshode and lewdnes And at leste if he can come to no degre This shyp of folys shall he gouerne with me

BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

Awake age alas what thynkest thou be Awake I say out of thy blynde derkenes Remembrest thou nat that shortly thou shalt dye Aryse from synne amende thy folysshenes Though thy youth reted were in vyciousnes Aryse in age is full tyme to leue it Thy graue is open thy one fote in the pyt

Leue thy bostynge of that thou hast done amys Bewayle thy synnes, sayeng with rufull mone Delicta iuuentutis mee deus ne memineris Amende the or thy youth be fully gone That sore is harde to hele that bredes in the bone He that is nought yonge, procedynge so in age Shall skant euer his vyciousnes asswage

What thinge is more abhomynable in goddes syght. Than vicious age: certaynly no thynge. It is eke worldly shame, whan thy corage and mycht Is nere dekayed, to kepe thy lewde lyuynge. And by example of the, thy yonge children to brynge. Into a vicious lyfe: and all goodnes to hate. Alas age thus thou art the Fendes bate.

* * * * *

Of the erudicion of neglygent faders anenst theyr chyldren.

A myserable Fole euermore shal he be. A wretche vnauysed, and a Catyf blynde. Whiche his chyldren fawtes forseth nat to see Hauynge no care for to induce theyr mynde To godly vertue: and vyce to leue behynde. For whyle they ar yonge fereful and tender of age Theyre vyce and foly is easy to asswage.

Two dyuers sortes of these foles may we fynde. By whome theyr chyldren ar brought to confusion. The one is neglygent. the other is starke blynde. Nat wyllynge to beholde his childes yl condicion. Whyle he is in youthe: But for a conclusion He is a Fole that wyl nat se theyr vyce. And he that seyth: and wyl it nat chastyce.

Alas thou art a cursed counselloure To wanton youth that tender is of age To let them wander without gouernoure Or wyse mayster, in youthes furious rage Get them a mayster theyr foly to asswage For as a herdles flocke strayth in Jepardy So children without gyde wandreth in foly.

To moche lyberty pleasoure and lycence Gyuen vnto youth, whether it be or age Right often causyth great inconuenyence As ryot mysrule with other sore damage Theyr londe and goodes solde or layde to gage But thou folysshe father art redy to excuse Thy yonge children of theyr synne and abuse

Thou sayst they ar ouer tender to eschewe Theyr folysshe maners and they haue no skyll To knowe the wayes of goodnes or vertue Nor to discerne what is gode, what is yll Thou blynde dodart these wordes holde thou styll Theyr youth can nat excuse thy folysshenes He that can yll as well myght lerne goodnes

A yonge hert is as apt to take wysdome As is an olde, and if it rotyd be It sawyth sede of holy lyfe to come Also in children we often tymes se Great aptness outwarde and syne of grauyte But fyll an erthen pot first with yll lycoure And euer after it shall smell somwhat soure

So youth brought vp in lewdnes and in sin Shall skant it shrape so clene out of his mynde But that styll after some spot wyll byde within A lytell twygge plyant is by kynde A bygger braunche is harde to bowe or wynde But suffer the braunche to a byg tre to growe And rather it shall brake than outher wynde or bowe

Correct thy childe whyle he is lyke a twygge Soupyll and plyant, apt to correccion It wyll be harde forsoth whan he is bygge To brynge his stubron herte to subieccion What hurtyth punysshement with moderacion Unto yonge children, certaynely no thynge It voydeth vyce, gettynge vertue and cunnynge

Say folysshe fader haddest thou leuer se Thy sonnes necke vnwrested wyth a rope. Than with a rod his skyn shulde brokyn be. And oft thou trustest: and hast a stedfast hope To se thy son promoted nere as hye as is the Pope But yet perchaunce mourne thou shalt ful sore. For his shameful ende: fortuned for lacke of lore.

Some folowe theyr chyldrens wyl and lewde plesour So grauntinge them theyr mynde: that after it doth fal To theyr great shame: they sorowe and dolour As dyd to Priamus a Kynge Imperial Whiche suffred his men: his son chefe of them al By force from Grece to robbe the fayre Helayne. Wherby both Fader and son were after slayne.

With noble Hector and many thousandes mo. The Cyte of Troy vnto the ground clene brent. I rede in the Cronycles of the Romayns also Howe Tarquyne the proude had shame and punysshment For rauysshynge chaste Lucres agaynst hyr assent. Wherfore hyrselfe she slewe hyr seynge thus defiled. For the which dede this Tarquyn was exiled,

From Rome: wandrynge in the Costes of Italy. Dyd nat the traytour Catelyne also conspyre And many mo sworne to his cruel tyranny Agaynst the Romans to oppresse theyr Impyre, But he and all his were murdred for theyr hyre, And nat vnworthely. Beholde wherto they come Which ar nat enfourmed in youth to ensue wysdom.

The son oft foloweth the faders behauour And if the fader be discrete and vertuous. The son shal suche wayes practyse both day and hour. But if that the fader be lewde and vicious By falshode lyuynge: and by wayes cautelous. The son also the same wayes wyl ensue And that moche rather than goodnes or vertue

Therfore it nedeth that better prouysion. Were founde for youthe by sad and wyse counsayle Far from theyr faders of this condicion. And other lewde gydes which myght theyr myndes assayle Greuously wyth syn. So were it theyr auayle From theyr faders frawde and falshode to declyne And them submyt to some lawdable mannys doctryne.

Peleus, somtyme a noble and worthy kynge Subdued Achylles vnto the doctryne Of phenix whiche was both worthy and cunnynge Wherfore Achyllys right gladly dyd enclyne With his hert and mynde vnto his disciplyne Wherby his name so noble was at the last That all Asy in worthynes he past

Ryght so Philippus a kynge worthy of name Ouer all Grece made great iniquicion To fynde one wyse, sad and laudable of fame To Alexander his sonne for to gyue Instruccion Founde was great Aristotyl at the conclusion Disciple of Plato. whiche in euery Science. Infourmed this chylde with parfyte diligence.

Whiche Alexander afterward had so great dignyte. What by his strength, his cunnynge, and boldenes. That he was lorde both of Londe and See. And none durst rebel aganst his worthynes. Lo here the lawde, the honour, and nobles. Which dothe procede of vertue and doctryne But few ar the faders that nowe hereto inclyne

Fewe ar that forceth nowe adayes to se Theyr chyldren taught: or to do any cost On som sad man, wyse, and of auctorite: Al that is theron bestowed thynke they loste. The folyssh Fader oft tymes maketh great boste. That he his son to habundant riches shal auance But no thynge he speketh of vertuous gouernance.

The feder made but smal shyft or prouysion. To induce his Son by vertuous doctryne. But whan he is dede and past: moche les shal the son To stody of grace his mynde or hert inclyne. But abuse his reason: and from al good declyne. Alas folysshe faders gyue your aduertence To Crates complaynt comprysed in this sentence.

If it were graunted to me to shewe my thought Ye follysshe faders Caytifes I myght you cal Whiche gather riches to brynge your chylde to nought. Gyuynge him occasion forto be prodigal. But goode nor cunnynge shewe ye hym none at all. But whan ye drawe to age, ye than moste comonly. Sorowe for your suffrance. But without remedy.

An olde sore to hele is oft halfe incurable Ryght so ar these Chyldren roted in myschefe Some after euer lyueth a lyfe abhomynable To all theyr Kyn great sorowe and reprefe. The one is a murderer the other a fereles thefe, The one of god nor goode man hath no fors ne care. Another so out wasteth that his frendes ar ful bare.

Some theyr londe and lyuelode in riot out wasteth, At cardes, and, tenys, and other vnlawful gamys. And some wyth the Dyce theyr thryft away casteth. Some theyr soule damnes, and theyr body shames. With flesshly lust: which many one dyffamys. Spendynge the floures of youth moche vnthryftely. On dyuers Braunches that longe to Lechery.

Another delyteth hymselfe in Glotony. Etynge and drynkynge without maner, or mesure: The more that some drynke: the more they wax drye. He is moste Galant whyche lengest can endure. Thus without mesure ouercharge they theyr nature. So that theyr Soule is loste theyr body and goode is spent. For lacke of doctryne, Norture and punysshment.

Se here playne prose, example and euydence Howe youthe which is nat norysshed in doctryne. In age is gyuen vnto al Inconuenyence. But nought shall make youthe soner forto inclyne. To noble maners: nor Godly dysciplyne: Than shal the doctryne of a mayster wyse and sad: For the rote of vertue and wysdome therby is had.

Without dout Noblenes is moche excellent Whiche oft causeth youth to be had in great honour. To haue the name, and lawde they ar content. Thoughe it be nat gotten by theyr owne labour. But what auayleth them this lewde obscure errour Of suche hye byrthe them self to magnyfy. Sythe they defyle it with vice and Uilany.

Why art thou proude thou foul of that nobles Whyche is nat gotten by thyne owne vertue. By thy goode maners, wyt nor worthynes: But this forsothe oft tymes fynde I true That of a goode beste, yl whelpes may weshewe. In lyke wyse of a Moder that is bothe chast and goode. Often is brought forth a ful vngracious Brode.

But though the childe be of lewde condicion And of his nature frowarde and varyable If the fader be slacke in the correccion Of his childe, he onely is culpable Whiche wyll nat teche hym maners commendable Thus is the fader a fole for his suffraunce And the sone also for his mysgouernaunce

THE ENUOY.

Auoyd faders your fauour and suffraunce Anenst your children in theyr faute and offence Reduce ye clerely vnto your remembraunce That many a thousande inconuenyence Haue children done by theyr faders negligence But to say trouth brefely in one clause The fader's fauour onely is the cause

* * * * *

Of tale berers, fals reporters, and prometers of stryfes.

Some ar that thynke the pleasoure and ioy of theyr lyfe To brynge men in brawlynge to discorde and debate Enioynge to moue them to chydynge and to stryfe And where loue before was to cause mortall hate With the comonty, and many great estate Suche is moche wors than outher murderer or thefe For ofte of his talys procedeth grete myschefe

Within his mouth is venym Jeperdous and vyle His tonge styll laboryth lesynges to contryue His mynde styll museth of falshode and on gyle Therwith to trobyll suche as gladly wolde nat stryue Somtyme his wordes as dartis he doth dryue Agaynst good men: for onely his delyte. Is set to sclaunder to diffame and bacbyte.

And namely them that fautles ar and innocent. Of conscience clene, and maners commendable These dryuyls sclaunder, beynge full dilygent. To deuyde, louers that ar moste agreable His tonge Infect his mynde abhomynable Infectyth loue and ouertourneth charyte Of them that longe tyme haue lyuyd in amyte

But he that accused is thus without all faute And so sclaundred of this caytyf vnthryfty Knowyth nought of this ieoperdous assaute For he nought dowteth that is no thynge fauty Thus whyle he nought feryth comyth sodaynly This venemous doloure distaynynge his gode name And so gyltles put to rebuke, and to shame.

Thus if one serche and seke the worlde ouerall Than a backbyter nought is more peryllous His mynde myscheuous, his wordys ar mortall His damnable byt is foule and venemous A thousande lyes of gyles odyous He castyth out where he wolde haue debate Engendrynge murder whan he his tyme can wayt

Where as any frendes lyueth in accorde Faythfull and true: this cowarde and caytyf With his fals talys them bryngeth to dyscorde And with his venym kepeth them in stryfe But howe beit that he thus pas forth his lyfe Sawynge his sede of debate and myschefe His darte oft retourneth to his own reprefe

But nat withstandynge, suche boldely wyl excuse His fals dyffamynge: as fautles and innocent. If any hym for his dedes worthely accuse He couereth his venym: as symple of intent. Other ar whiche flater: and to euery thynge assent. Before face folowynge the way of adulacion, Whiche afterwarde sore hurteth by detraccion.

The worlde is nowe alle set on dyffamacion. Suche ar moste cherisshed that best can forge a tale. Whych shulde be moste had in abhomynacion. And so they ar of wyse men without fayle. But suche as ar voyde of wysdom and counsayle Inclyneth theyr erys to sclander and detraccion, Moche rather than they wolde to a noble sermon.

But euery Sclanderer, and begynner of stryfe. Lousers of loue, and infecters of Charite. Unworthy ar to lyue here at large in this lyfe. But in derke Dongeon they worthy ar to be. And there to remayne in pryson tyl they dye. For with there yl tunges they labour to destroy Concorde: whiche cause is of loue and of ioy.

An olde quean that hath ben nought al hyr dayes. Whiche oft hath for money hyr body let to hyre Thynketh that al other doth folowe hyr olde wayes. So she and hyr boul felawes syttinge by the fyre. The Boule about walkynge with theyr tunges they conspyre Agaynst goode peple, to sclander them wyth shame. Than shal the noughty doughter lerne of the bawdy dame.

By his warkes knowen is euery creature For if one good, louynge, meke and charitable be. He labours no debates amonge men to procure. But coueyteth to norysshe true loue and charite. Where as the other ful of falshode and iniquyte Theyr synguler plesour put to ingender variaunce. But oft theyr folysshe stody retournes to theyr myschaunce

Therfore ye bacbyters that folke thus dyffame Leue of your lewdnes and note wel this sentence. Which Cryist hymself sayd: to great rebuke and shame Unto them that sclandreth a man of Innocence. Wo be to them whych by malyuolence Slandreth or dyffameth any creature. But wel is hym that wyth pacience can indure.

* * * * *

Of hym that wyll nat folowe nor ensue good counsell, and necessary.

He is a fole that dothe coueyt and desyre To haue the name of wysdome and prudence And yet of one sought thorugh a cyte or a shyre None coude be founde of lesse wysdome nor science But whyle he thynketh hym full of sapience Crafty and wyse, doutles he is more blynde Than is that fole whiche is out of his mynde

But though he be wyse, and of myght meruaylous Endued with retoryke and with eloquence And of hym selfe both ware and cautelous If he be tachyd with this inconuenyence To dysdayne others counseyll and sentence He is vnwyse, for oft a folys counsayle Tourneth a wyse man to consort and auayle

But specially the read and auysement Of wyse men, discrete, and full of grauyte Helpeth thyne owne, be thou never so prudent To thy purpose gyuynge strength and audacyte. One man alone knowys nat all polycye Thoughe thou haue wysdome cunnynge and scyence Yet hath another moche more experience

Some cast out wordes in paynted eloquence Thynkynge therby to be reputed wyse Thoughe they haue neyther wysdome nor science Suche maner folys them self do exercyse A plughe and teame craftely to deuyse To ere the path that folys erst hath made The trouth vnder glose of suche is hyd and layde

For why, they trust alway to theyr owne mynde And furour begon whether it be good or yll As if any other, no wyser read coude fynde Thus they ensue theyr pryuate folysshe wyll Oft in suche maters wherin they haue no skyll As did Pyrrus whiche began cruell Batayle Agaynst Orestes refusynge wyse counsayle

But folowyd his owne rasshe mynde without auayle As blynde and obstynat of his intencion Wherfore he was disconfyted in Batayle Hymselfe slayne, his men put to confusyon If that the Troyans in theyr abusyon With false Parys, had confourmed theyr intent To Helenns counsayle Troy had nat ben brent.

For that Priamus his mynde wolde nat aply To the counseyll of Cassandra Prophetes The grekys distroyed a great parte of Asy Hector also by his selfwyllydnes Was slayne with Peyn for all his doughtynes Of Achylles in open and playne Batayle For nat folowynge of his faders counsayle

If Hector that day had byddyn within Troy And vnto his fader bene obedient Perchaunce he sholde haue lyuyd in welth and ioy Longe tyme after and come to his intent Whereas his body was with a spere through rent Of the sayd Achyllys cruell and vnkynde Alas for suynge his owne selfwyllyd mynde

I rede of Nero moche cursed and cruell Whiche to wyse counsayle hymself wolde nat agre But in all myschef all other dyd excell Delytynge hym in synne and crueltye But howe dyde he ende forsoth in myserye And at the last as wery of his lyfe Hymselfe he murdred with his owne hand and knyfe

The Bybyll wytnessyth howe the prophete Thoby Gaue his dere sone in chefe commaundement That if he wolde lyue sure without ieoperdy He sholde sue the counsayle of men wyse and prudent The story of Roboam is also euydent Whiche for nat suynge of counseyll and wysdome Lost his Empyre, his scepter and kyngdome

If that it were nat for cawse of breuyte I coude shewe many of our predecessours Whiche nat folowynge counceyll of men of grauyte Soone haue decayed from theyr olde honours I rede of Dukes, Kynges, and Emperours Whiche dispysynge the counsayle of men of age Haue after had great sorowe and damage.

For he suerly whiche is so obstynate That onely he trusteth to his owne blyndnes Thynkynge all wysdome within his dotynge pate He often endyth in sorowe and dystres Wherfore let suche theyr cours swyftly addres To drawe our Plough, and depe to ere the ground That by theyr laboure all folys may be founde.

THE ENUOY OF ALEXANDER BARCLAY THE TRANSLATOUR.

O man vnauysed, thy blyndnes set asyde Knowledge thy owne foly thy statelynes expel Let nat for thy eleuate mynde nor folysshe pryde, To order thy dedes by goode and wyse counsel Howbeit thou thynke thy reason doth excel Al other mennys wyt. yet oft it doth befall. Anothers is moche surer: and thyn the worst of all.

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Of disordred and vngoodly maners.

In this our tyme small is the company That haue good maners worthy of reuerence But many thousandes folowe vylany Prone to all synne and inconuenyence Stryuynge who sonest may come to all offence Of lewde condicions and vnlefulnesse Blyndnes of yll, and defylyd folysshenesse

All myserable men alas haue set theyr mynde On lothsome maners clene destytute of grace Theyr iyen dymmyd, theyr hertes are so blynde That heuenly ioy none forceth to purchace Both yonge and olde procedeth in one trace With ryche and pore without all dyfference As bonde men subdued to foly and offence

Some ar busshed theyr bonetes, set on syde. Some waue theyr armys and hede to and fro Some in no place can stedfastly abyde More wylde and wanton than outher buk or do Some ar so proude that on fote they can nat go But get they must with countenaunce vnstable Shewynge them folys, frayle and varyable

Some chyde that all men do them hate Some gygyll and lawgh without grauyte Some thynkes, hymselfe a gentylman or state Though he a knaue caytyf and bonde churle be These folys ar so blynde them self they can nat so A yonge boy that is nat worth an onyon With gentry or presthode is felowe and companyon.

Brybours and Baylyes that lyue upon towlynge Are in the world moche set by nowe a dayes Sergeauntis and Catchpollys that lyue upon powlynge Courters and caytyfs begynners of frayes Lyue styll encreasynge theyr vnhappy wayes And a thousande mo of dyuers facultyes Lyue auauntynge them of theyr enormytees.

Within the chirche and euery other place These folys use theyr lewde condicions Some starynge some cryeng some haue great solace In rybawde wordes, some in deuysyons Some them delyte in scornes and derysons Some pryde ensueth and some glotony. Without all norture gyuen to vylany

Theyr lyfe is folysshe lothsome and vnstable Lyght brayned, theyr herte and mynde is inconstant Theyr gate and loke proude and abhomynable They haue nor order as folys ignorant Chaungyng theyr myndes thryse in one instant Alas this lewdnes and great enormyte Wyll them nat suffer theyr wretchydnes to se

Thus ar these wretchyd caytyfes fully blynde All men and wymen that good ar doth them hate But he that with good maners endueth his mynde Auoydeth this wrath hatered and debate His dedes pleaseth both comonty and estate And namely suche as ar good and laudable Thynketh his dedes right and commendable

As wyse men sayth: both vertue and cunnynge Honoure and worshyp grace and godlynes Of worthy maners take theyr begynnynge And fere also asswagyth wantones. Subduynge the furour of youthes wylfulnes But shamefastnes trouth constance and probyte Both yonge and olde bryngeth to great dignyte.

These foresayde vertues with charite and peas. Together assembled stedfast in mannys mynde. Cawseth his honour and worthynes to encreas. And his godly lyfe a godly ende shal fynde But these lewde caytyfs which doth theyr myndes blynde With corrupt maners lyuynge vnhappely. In shame they lyue and wretchedly they dye.

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Of brekynge and hurtynge of amyte and frendshyp.

A Fole frowarde cruell and vntrewe Is he whiche by his power wrongfully His frendes and subiectes laboures to subdewe Without all lawe, but clene by tyranny Therfore thou Juge thy erys se thou aply To right Justyce and set nat thyne intent By wrath or malyce to be to vyolent.

It is nat lawfull to any excellent Or myghty man, outher lawyer or estate By cruelnes to oppresse an innocent Ne by pryde and malyce Justyce to violate The law transposynge after a frowarde rate With proude wordes defendynge his offence God wot oft suche haue symple conscience

O that he cursed is and reprouable Whiche day and nyght stodyeth besely To fynde some meanes false and detestable To put his frende to losse or hurte therby Our hertes ar fully set on vylany There ar right fewe of hye or lowe degre That luste to norysshe trewe loue and amyte

Alas exyled is godly charyte Out of our Royalme we all ar so vnkynde Our folys settyth gretter felycyte On golde and goodes than on a faythfull frynde Awake blynde folys and call vnto your mynde That though honest ryches be moche commendable Yet to a true frende it is nat comparable

Of all thynges loue is moste profytable For the right order of lowe and amyte Is of theyr maners to be agreable And one of other haue mercy and pyte Eche doynge for other after theyr degre And without falshode this frendeshyp to mayntayne And nat departe for pleasour nor for payne

But alas nowe all people haue dysdayne On suche frendshyp for to set theyr delyte Amyte we haue exyled out certayne We lowe oppressyon to sclaunder and bacbyte Extorcyon hath strength, pyte gone is quyte Nowe in the worlde suche frendes ar there none As were in Grece many yeres agone.

Who lyst thystory of Patroclus to rede There shall he se playne wryten without fayle Howe whan Achyllys gaue no force nor hede Agaynst the Troyans to execute batayle The sayd Patroclus dyd on the aparayle Of Achylles, and went forth in his steade Agaynst Hector: but lyghtly he was dede.

But than Achylles seynge this myschaunce. Befallen his frende whiche was to hym so true. He hym addressyd shortly to take vengeaunce. And so in Batayle the noble Hector slewe And his dede cors after his charot drewe. Upon the grounde traylynge ruthfully behynde Se howe he auengyd Patroclus his frende.

The hystory also of Orestes dothe expresse Whiche whan agamenon his fader was slayne By egystus whiche agaynst rightwysnes The sayde Orestis moder dyd meyntayne The childe was yonge wherfore it was but vayne In youth to stryue, but whan he came to age His naturall moder slewe he in a rage

And also Egystus whiche had his fader slayne Thus toke he vengeaunce of both theyr cruelnes But yet it grewe to his great care and payne For sodaynly he fell in a madnesse And euer thought that in his furiousnes His moder hym sued flamynge full of fyre And euer his deth was redy to conspyre

Orestes troubled with this fereful vysyon As franatyke and mad wandred many a day Ouer many a countrey londe and regyon His frende Pylades folowynge hym alway In payne nor wo he wolde hym nat denay Tyll he restoryd agayne was to his mynde Alas what frynde may we fynde nowe so kynde.

Of dymades what shall I lawde or wryte. And Pythias his felawe amyable Whiche in eche other suche loue had and delyte That whan Denys a tyrant detestable And of his men some to hym agreable Wolde one of them haue mordred cruelly Echone for other offred for to dye

Ualerius wrytyth a story longe and ample Of Lelius and of worthy Cipio. Whiche of trewe loue hath left vs great example For they neuer left in doloure wele nor wo I rede in thystory of Theseus also: Howe he (as the Poetes fables doth tell) Folowyd his felawe perothus in to hell.

And serchynge hym dyd wander and compas Those lothsome flodys and wayes tenebrous Ferynge no paynes of that dysordred place Nor obscure mystes or ayres odyous Tyll at the laste by his wayes cautelous And Hercules valyaunt dedes of boldnesse He gat Perothus out of that wretchydnesse.

Alas where ar suche frendes nowe a dayes Suerly in the worlde none suche can be founde All folowe theyr owne profyte and lewde wayes None vnto other coueytys to be bounde Brekers of frendshyp ynough ar on the grounde Whiche set nought by frendshyp so they may haue good All suche in my shyp shall haue a folys hode

THE ENUOY OF BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

Ye cruell folys full of ingratitude. Aryse be asshamyd of your iniquyte Mollyfy your hertes vnkynde stuberne and rude Graffynge in them true loue and amyte Consyder this prouerbe of antyquyte And your vnkyndnes weray ban and curse For whether thou be of hy or lowe degre Better is a frende in courte than a peny in purse

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Of contempt, or dispisynge of holy scripture.

Suche as dispyseth auncyent scripture Whiche prouyd is of great auctoryte And hath no pleasoure felycyte or cure Of godly Prophetis whiche wrote of veryte A fole he is for his moste felycyte Is to byleue the tales of an olde wyfe Rather than the doctryne of eternall lyfe

The holy Bybyll grounde of trouth and of lawe Is nowe of many abiect and nought set by Nor godly scripture is nat worth an hawe But talys ar louyd grounde of rybawdry And many blynddyd ar so with theyr foly That no scripture thynke they so true nor gode As is a folysshe yest of Robyn hode.

He that to scripture wyll not gyue credence Wherin ar the armys of our tuycion And of our fayth foundacion and defence Suche one ensueth nat the condycion Of man resonable, but by abusyon Lyuyth as a best of conscyence cruell As saue this worlde were neyther heuen nor hell.

He thynketh that there is no god aboue Nor nobler place than is this wretchyd grounde Nor goddes power suche neyther fere nor loue With whom all grace and mercy doth abounde Whiche whan hym lyst vs wretches may confounde Alas what auayleth to gyue instruction To suche lewde folys of this condycion.

It nought auayleth vnto them to complayne Of theyr blyndnes, nor enfourme them with vertue Theyr cursed lyfe wyll by no mean refrayne Their viciousnes, nor their erroure eschewe But rather stody theyr foly to renewe Alas what profytis to suche to expresse. The heuenly ioy, rewarde of holynesse.

Alas what auayleth to suche to declare The paynes of hell, wo dissolate and derke No wo nor care can cause suche to beware From their lewde lyfe corrupt and synfull warke What profyteth sermons of any noble clarke Or godly lawes taught at any Scolys For to reherse to these myscheuous folys.

What helpeth the Prophetis scripture or doctryne Unto these folys obstynate and blynde Their hertis ar harde, nat wyllynge to enclyne To theyr preceptis nor rote them in theyr mynde Nor them byleue as Cristen men vnkynde For if that they consydred heuen or hell They wolde nat be so cursed and cruell

And certaynly the trouth apereth playne That these folys thynke in theyr intent That within hell is neyther car nor payne Hete nor colde, woo, nor other punysshement Nor that for synners is ordeyned no turment Thus these mad folys wandreth euery houre Without amendement styll in theyr blynde erroure

Before thy fete thou mayst beholde and se Of our holy fayth the bokys euydent The olde lawes and newe layde ar before the Expressynge christes tryumphe right excellent But for all this set is nat thyne intent Theyr holy doctryne to plant within thy brest Wherof shold procede ioy and eternall rest

Trowest thou that thy selfe wyllyd ignoraunce Of godly lawes and mystycall doctryne May clense or excuse thy blynde mysgouernaunce Or lewde erroure, whiche scorne hast to inclyne To theyr preceptis: and from thy synne declyne Nay nay thy cursed ignoraunce sothly shall Drowne thy soule in the depe flodes infernall

Therfore let none his cursydnes defende Nor holy doctryne, nor godly bokes dispyse But rather stody his fawtes to amende For god is aboue all our dedes to deuyse Whiche shall rewarde them in a ferefull wyse With mortall wo that euer shall endure Whiche haue dyspysyd his doctryne and scripture

BARCLAY TO THE FOLYS.

Out of your slomber folys I rede you ryse. Scripture dyuyne, to folowe and inbrace Be nat so bolde it to leue nor dispyse But you enforce it to get and purchase Remember mannys consort and solace. Is holy closyd within the boke of lyfe Who that it foloweth hath a speciall grace But he that doth nat a wretche is and caytyfe

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Of folys without prouysyon.

Of other folys yet is a moche nomber Whom I wolde gladly brynge to intellygence To auoyde their blyndnes which sore doth incomber Theyr mynde and herte for lackynge of science Suche ar vnware and gyuen to neglygence Mad and mysmyndyd pryuate of wysdome Makynge no prouysyon for the tyme to come.

If any mysfortune aduersyte or wo As often hapnyth, to suche a fole doth fall Than sayth he I thought it wolde nat haue be so But than ouer late is it agayne to call It is nat ynough thou fole to say I shall For this one daye prouyde me by wysdome A wyse man seyth peryll longe before it come

He is vnwyse and of prouysyon pore That nought can se before he haue damage Whan the stede is stolyn to shyt the stable dore Comys small pleasoure profyte or vauntage But he that can suche folysshenes asswage Begynnynge by counsayll, and fore prouydence Is sure to escape all inconuenyence

Whan Adam tastyd the appyll in Paradyse. To hym prohybyte by dyuyne commaundement If he had noted the ende of his interpryse To Eue he wolde nat haue ben obedyent Thus he endured right bytter punysshement For his blynde erroure and improuydence That all his lynage rue sore for his offence.

Hymselfe dryuyn out from Paradyce all bare With Eue, into this vale of wretchydnes To get theyr lyuynge with laboure payne and care And also if Jonathas by errour and blyndnes Had nat receyued the gyftis of falsnes Unto hym gyuen of Tryphon by abusyon He sholde haue escapyd great confusyon

If that he before had notyd craftely His ennemyes gyftis of frawde full and of treason He myght haue sauyd hymselfe from ieoperdy And all his people by prouydence and reason Where as he blynde was as at that season And to a cyte broughte in by a trayne Where he was murdred and all his people slayne

Julius Cesar the chefe of conquerours Was euer warre and prudent of counsayle But whan he had obteyned great honours And drewe to rest as wery of Batayle Than his vnwarnes causyd hym to wayle For if he had red with good aduysement The letter whiche to the counselhous was sent

He had nat gyuen his owne iugement As he dyd by his foly and neglygence For whiche he murdred was incontynent Without respect had vnto his excellence Alas se here what inconuenyence Came to this Emperour hye and excellent For nat beyng wyse dyscrete and prouydent

If Nichanor before had noted well The ende of his dedes he had nat be slayne By Judas and the children of Israell His hande and tunge cut of to his great payne And than his hede, as the bybyll sheweth playne Thus may all knowe that wyll therto entende Wherto they come that caryth nat the ende

But he that begynneth by counsayll and wysdome Alway procedynge with good prouysyon Notynge what is past and what is for to come Suche folowys godly scripture and monycion In happy wayes without transgressyon Of goddes lawes, and his commaundement And often tymes comys to his intent.

Thus it appereth playne and euydent That wyse prouysyon, prose and good counsayle Are moche laudable, and also excellent And to mankynde great profyte and auayle. Where as those folys haue often cause to wayle For theyr mysfortune, in sorowe vexed sore Whiche ought begyn nat prouydyd before

THE ENUOY OF ALEXANDER BARCLAY.

O man remember thou canste nat abyde Styll in this lyfe therfore moste specially For thy last ende thou oughtest to prouyde. For that prouysion forsoth is most godly And than next after thy mynde thou ought aply To fle offence, and bewayle thyne olde synne And in all workes and besynes worldly What may be the ende marke well or thou begynne

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Of disordred loue and veneryous.

O cruel Uenus forsoth who doth insue Thy flaterynge gylys and proude commaundement And hastyth nat the dartis to eschewe Of blynde Cupido but folowys his intent Suche folys endure moche sorowe and turment Wastynge theyr goodes dishonestynge their name As past fere of god and sekynge after shame

Howe many yllys, what inconuenyence Howe great vengeaunce, and howe bytter punysshement Hath god oft takyn for this synne and offence Howe many Cytees hye and excellent Hath Uenus lost, destroyed, and alto brent What lordes and howe many a great estate Hath loue lost, murdred, or els brought in debate

The noble Troyans murdred ar and slayne Theyr cyte brent, decayde is theyr kyngdome Theyr kynge pryant by pyrrus dede and slayne And all this by Parys vnhappy loue is come Whiche voyde of grace and blynde without wysdome To fyll his lust, from Grece rubbyd Helayne, But this one pleasour was grounde of moche payne

Also Marcus a Prynce of the Romayns Called Antonius by another name After that he had ouercome the persyans To Rome retournyd with tryumphe lawde and fame And there (whiche after was to his great shame) With cleopatra in loue was take so in blyndnes That he promysyd to make hir empresse

So this blynde louer to fyll his interpryse Caused his men two hondred shyppes ordayne And toke the see wenynge in suche fourme and wyse His lewde desyre: to perfourme and obteyne But shortly after was he ouercome and slayne Of Cesar: and whan he this purpose vnderstode He bathed his Corse within his lemmans blode

For two serpentis that venemus were and fell Were set to the brestis of fayre Cleopatray So this cruell purpose had punysshement cruell For theyr intendynge theyr countrey to betray And worthy they were, what man can it denay Thus it apereth playne by euydence That of false loue cometh great inconuenyence

For he that loueth is voyde of all reason Wandrynge in the worlde without lawe or mesure In thought and fere sore vexed eche season And greuous dolours in loue he must endure No creature hym selfe may well assure From loues soft dartis: I say none on the grounde But mad and folysshe bydes he whiche hath the wounde

Aye rennynge as franatyke no reason in his mynde He hath no constaunce nor ease within his herte His iyen ar blynde, his wyll alwaye inclyned To louys preceptes yet can nat he departe The Net is stronge, the fole caught can nat starte The darte is sharpe, who euer is in the chayne Can nat his sorowe in vysage hyde nor fayne

Rede howe Phedra hir loue fixed so feruent On ypolitus in prohybyte auowtry. That whan he wolde nat vnto hir consent To hir husbonde she accused hym falsly As if he wolde hir tane by force to vylany Ipolitus was murdred for this accusement But Phedra for wo hanged hyrself incontynent

The lewde loue of Phasyphe abhomynable As poetis sayth) brought hir to hir confusyon Nero the cruell Tyrant detestable. His naturall mother knewe by abusyon Uenus and Cupido with their collusyon. Enflamyd Messalina in suche wyse That euery nyght hir selfe she wolde disgyse

And secretly go to the brothelhous For to fulfyll hir hote concupyssence What shall I wryte the dedes vicious Of Julia or, hir cruell offence. What shall I wryte the inconuenyence Whiche came by Danythys cursed auowtry Syth that the bybyll it shewyth openly

What shall I wryte the greuous forfayture Of Sodom and Gomor syns the Bybyll doth tell Of their synnes agaynst god and nature For whiche they sanke alyue downe into hell. Thus it aperith what punysshement cruell. Our lorde hath taken both in the olde lawe and newe For this synne: whiche sholde vs moue it to eschewe

ALEXANDER BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

Ye folys inflamyd with loue inordynate. Note these examples, drawe from this vyce your mynde Remember that there is none so great estate But that false loue hym causeth to be blynde Our folysshe wymen may nat be left behynde For many of them so folowys in this way That they sell theyr soules and bodyes to go gay

The graceles galantes, and the aprentyce pore Though they nought haue, themselfe they set nought by Without they be acquaynted with some hore Of westmynster or some other place of rybawdry Than fall they to murder theft and robery. For were nat proude clothynge, and also flesshely lust All the feters and gyues of Englonde shulde rust.

Therfore folys awake, and be no longer blynde Consyder that shame, seknes, and pouertye Of loue procedeth: and drawe from it your mynde Suffre not your soules damned and lost to be By vayne lust and carnall sensualyte For thoughe the small pleasure do make the fayne The ende oft is worldly wo and myserye Or amonge the fendes eternall payne

* * * * *

Of them y^t synne trustynge vpon the mercy of god.

The wynde is up our Nauy is aflote A bande of Folys a borde is come yet more Theyr cursed maners and mad I shall nowe note Whose herte for synne is neyther contryte ne sore Nat mornynge (as they ought to do) therfore Without fere styll lyuynge in theyr vyciousnes No thynge inclyned to godly holynes

They thynke no thynge on goddes rightwysnes But grounde them all, on his mercy and pyte For that he redyer is vnto forgeuenesse Unto all people, than them punysshed to se Trouth it is that the great enormyte Of the worlde hathe nat aye worthy punysshement Nor he nat damnyd that doth his synne repent

Put case he gyuyth nat aye lyke iugement On mannys mysdede, nor yet mundayne offence And though he be gode meke and pacyent Nor shortly punyssheth our inconuenyence Put case also he gyue nat aduertence To all mundayne fawtes synne and fragylyte Yet none sholde synne in hope of his mercy

But these folys assembled in a companye Sayth eche to other that oft it is laufull To perseuerant synners lyuynge in iniquyte Yo trust in god syns he is mercyfull What nedeth vs our wyttis for to dull Labourynge our synne and foly to refrayne Syns synne is a thynge naturall and humayne

Than sayth another forsoth thou sayst playne And also our fore Faders and progenitours Before our dayes offendyd haue certayne. As well as we, in many blynde errours But syns they haue escapyd all paynes and dolours Of hell; and nowe in heuyn ar certayne What nede haue we to fere infernall payne.

Than comys in an other with his dotysshe brayne By god sayth he I knowe it without fable That heuyn was made neyther for gose nor crane Nor yet for other bestes vnresonable Than of the Scripture doth he Chat and bable Alleggynge our forefaders whiche haue mysdone Saynge that no synne is newe in our season

A myserable men destytute of reason. That thus on hope do synne vnhappely Remember the synne of our forefaders done Haue neuer ben left vnpunysshed fynally And that somtyme, full sharpe and bytterly For euer more all synne hath had a fall With sorowe here, or els wo infernall

The synne of Sodom foule and nat natural The Pryde of rome, whiche was so excellent The offence of Dauyd Prophete and kynge royal The furour of Pharao fyers and violent Haue nat escaped the rightwyse punysshment Of God aboue, the celestial and highe Justice Which fyrst, or last punyssheth euery vyce.

Remember Richarde lately kynge of price In Englonde raynynge vnrightwisely a whyle. Howe he ambycion, and gyleful Couetyse With innocent blode his handes dyd defyle But howbeit that fortune on hym dyd smyle Two yere or thre: yet god sende hym punysshment By his true seruant the rede Rose redolent.

Therfore remember that god omnypotent Oft suffreth synners in theyr iniquyte Grauntynge them space and tyme of amendement And nat to procede in their enormyte But those synners that byde in one degre And in this lyfe their synne wyll nat refrayne God after punyssheth with infernall payne

As I haue sayde (therfore) I say agayne Though god be of infynyte pety and mercy His fauour and grace passynge all synne mundayne Yet iustice is with hym eternally. Wherfore I aduyse the to note intentifly Though pyte wolde spare, iustyce wyll nat so But the here rewarde, els with infernal we.

ALEXANDER BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

Syghe synners, syghe, for your mysgouernance. Lament, mourne, and sorowe for your enormyte. Away with these Clowdes of mysty ignorance Syn nat in hope of goddys hyghe petye And remember howe ye daily punysshed be With dyuers dyseases both vncouthe and cruel And all for your synne, but suche as escapeth fre And styl lyue in syn, may fere the peynes of helle

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Of the folisshe begynnynge of great bildynges without sufficient prouision.

Who euer begynneth any worke or dede Of byldynge or of other thynge chargeable And to his costes before taketh no hede Nor tyme nat countyth to his worke agreable Suche is a fole and well worthy a babyll For he that is wyse wyll no thynge assay Without he knowe howe he well ende it may.

The wyse man counteth his cost before alway Or he begyn, and nought wyll take in honde Wherto his myght or power myght denay His costes confourmynge to the stynt of his londe Where as the fole that nought doth vnderstonde Begynneth a byldynge without aduysement But or halfe be done his money clene is spent.

Many haue begon with purpose dilygent To bylde great houses and pleasaunt mansyons Them thynkynge to finysshe after theyr intent But nede disceyuyd hath theyr opynyons Their purpose nat worth a cowpyll of onyons But whan they se that they it ende nat can They curse the tyme that euer they it began

Of Nabugodosor that worthy man. What shall I wryte or the story to the tell Syth that the Bybyll to the expresse it can In the fourth chapter of the prophete Danyell Was he nat punysshed in paynes cruell For his great pryde and his presumpcion Whiche he toke it in the byldynge of Babylon

His golde and treasoure he spendyd hole theron Enioynge hym in his Cyte excellent Right so Nemroth by his inuencion The towre of Babylon began for this intent To saue hym, if the worlde agayne were drent But the hye god consyderynge his blynde rage His purpose let by confusyon of langage

His towre vnperfyte to his losse and domage His people punysshed, hymselfe specyally Thus it apereth what great disauauntage On theyr hede falleth that byldeth in foly Thus he is folysshe that wolde edefy Any great worke without ryches in excesse For great byldynges requyreth great rychesse

But many folys ar in suche a blyndnesse That hereon nought they set their mynde ne thought Wherfore to them oft commyth great distresse And to great pouerty often ar they brought Laughed to scorne, their purpose cometh to nought And truely I fynde in bokes wryten playne That our olde faders haue neuer set theyr brayne

On great byldynge, ne yet of them ben fayne: It longeth to a lorde a Prynce or a Kynge That lacke no treasoure theyr werkes to mayntayne To set theyr myndes on excellent buyldynge Therfore who so euer wyll meddle with this thynge Or any other, before let hym be wyse That his myght and ryches therto may suffyse.

Lyst all men do mocke and scorne his interpryse For if he ought begyn without prouysyon And haue nat wherby his byldynge may up ryse All that is lost that is made and begon And better it is sothly in myn intencion Nought to begyn, and spare laboure and payne Than to begyn and than, leue of agayne

Who euer he be that so doth certayne He shall haue mockis mengled with his damage Therfore let suche folys sharpe theyr brayne And better intende to theyr owne auauntage Consyderynge that processe of tyme and age Theyr curyous byldynges shall at the lest confounde And Roufe and wallys make egall with the grounde.

BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

Ye folys blyndyd with curyosyte Whiche on great byldynge set so sore your mynde Remember ye nat that doutles ye shall dye And your gay byldynges and howses leue behynde Thynke ye your conforte alway in them to fynde Or whan ye dye, them hens with you to haue Nay nay the laste hous gyuen to mankynde Is the course grounde and walles of his graue.

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Of glotons and dronkardes.

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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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.

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Of ryches vnprofytable.

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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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.

* * * * *

Of hym that togyder wyll serue two maysters.

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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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

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Of to moche spekynge or bablynge.

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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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

* * * * *

Of them that correct other and yet them selfe do nought and synne worse than they whom they so correct.

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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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.

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Of hym that fyndeth ought of another mannys it nat restorynge to the owner.

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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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

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Of the sermon or erudicion of wysdome bothe to wyse men and folys.

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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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.

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Of bostynge or hauynge confydence in fortune.

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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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.

Ye folys that haue in fortune confydence: And boste you of welth and of prosperyte Leue of your foly, and note by euydence: Hir cours vnsure: and hir mutabylyte None in this lyfe can byde in one degre But somtyme hye, than after pore and lowe. Nowe nought set by, nowe in auctoryte Nowe full nowe voyde as waters ebbe and flowe

I am remembred that I haue often sene Great worldly ryches ende in pouertye And many one that hath in fauour ben: And hye promotyd in welth and dignyte. Hath sodaynly fallyn into calamyte Thus is it foly to trust in fortunes grace For whyle the Se floweth and is at Burdews hye It as fast ebbeth at some other place

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Of the ouer great and chargeable curyosyte of men.

He that wyll coueyt to bere more than he may And take on his sholders more than he can sustayne Suche is a fole, his dedys wyll not deny And with his owne wyll gooth to peryll and payne. He is vnwyse whiche is ioyous and fayne To offer his necke to bere that without fere Whiche were ynoughe for dyuers men to bere

That man that taketh vpon his backe alone The heuy weght of the large fyrmament Or any burdeyne whiche maketh hym to grone Whiche to sustayne his strength is ympotent No meruayle is if he fall incontynent And than whan he lowe on the grounde doth lye He oft repentyth his purpose and foly

We haue in storyes many examples great Shewynge the lewde ende of this curyosyte. I rede of Alexander that dyd often sweate In great peryls to augment his dignyte He was nat content with europe and asye Nor all the grounde under the fyrmament At the last ende, cowde nat his mynde content

As if all the erth were nat suffycyent For his small body by curyouse couetyse But at the last he must holde hym content With a small cheste, and graue nat of great pryce. Thus deth vs shewyth what thynge sholde vs suffyce And what is the ende of our curyosyte. For dethe is lyke to hye and lowde degre

What shall a kynge at his last endynge haue Of all his realme and infynyte treasoure Saue onely his towmbe, and the grounde of his graue But thoughe it be of great pryce and voloure As is conuenyent to his hye honoure. Yet lytell conforte to his soule shall it gyue But cause of bostynge to them that after lyue

Thus whan man vnto his last ende is come He nought with hym bereth of his dignytees Wherfore cynicus a man of great wysdome Lorde grettest of Grece in londes and Cytees Hathe lefte great example vnto all degrees For his great ryches his herte dyd neuer blynde But worldly pompe set clene out of his mynde

He forced of no castels nor excellent byldynge Dispysynge charges and besynes worldly But gaue his mynde to vertue and cunnynge And namely to the scyence of astronomy Consyderynge that great rest of mynde and of body With hym abydeth whiche with bolde herte is fayne To folowe vertue, and leue charges mundayne

He that so doth no weght doth vndertake Vpon his backe of so great a grauyte That his small strength must it agayne forsake. Where he that attempteth grettest thynges, and hye: Great weyght of charges and moche dignite Must lerne to suffer payne thought and vexacion By his great charges of perturbacion.

What auayle is it the worlde to obtayne In one mannys power, and all other to excell To suffer trouble, and vayne charges sustayne And at the last his pore soule gooth to hell There toren and tourmented in paynes cruell It were moche better to kepe a quyet mynde And after our deth eternall rest to fynde

He that taketh thought for euery besynes: And caryth for that whiche doth nat apertayne Nor longe to his charge, he is full of blyndnes And no houre shall rest, but styll in thought and payne Care for thy owne charges, theron set thy brayne For he a fole is that caryth or doth intende For another mannys charge whiche he can nat amende

Therfore lyue in rest after thy degre. Nor on suche thynges do nat thy mynde aply Whiche ar no thynge apertaynynge vnto the If thou so do thou shalt fynde rest therby Auoyde thou the charge of worldly mysery For godes take no thought great care ne trauayle. Whiche after deth shall do the none auayle

BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

Fole clere thy iyen and of thy selfe beware Care moste for thy owne besynes and charge For other mennes take no great thought nor care If thou thy conscience mayst therof discharge A curyous man that of his tunge is large Talkynge or carynge of other, his place is best Hye in the fore top of our folysshe barge For in that place is small quyet or rest

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Of them that ar alway borowynge.

That fole that hym selfe a dettour doth make To dyuerse men, and is borowynge alway Right ponderous charges on hym doth take Borowynge of one another therwith to pay Thoughe he be glad to haue longe terme and day To hym assygned to make his payment It nought auayleth, for soone the tyme is spent

But in the meane tyme deuourynge vsurye Spoylyth makynge pore many a borewer Where they two borewed they promys to pay thre Their day of payment lenger to defarre. Thus doth oft borowynge many thousandes marre Yet some get malyce for that gode that they len And where they lent twenty gladly taketh ten.

I wyll nat say but that it is mede certayne To lene frely to one that is in nede And wyll be glade it to content agayne. But he that lenyth to haue rewarde or mede Or more than he lent, may of hell payne haue drede And he that so boroweth gayne can haue none Therby in this lyfe, but hell whan he is gone

Therfore in this satyre suche wyll I repreue And none that borowe nor lene on amyte The vsurers: fals cristen men in theyr byleue Folowe the waren way of theyr iniquyte Prohybyte by lawe iustyce and equyte Theyr vnclene hertes, and mynde, vnhappely On lucre settynge, comynge by vsury

They hepe theyr synne in quantyte horryble Labowrynge that lewde burthen gretter to make And that sore weght tedyose and terryble With a great rope vpon theyr shulders take The weyght vp taken all theyr hole ioyntes quake Thus these caytyfs with this rope and burthyn heuy Them selfe hange damnynge theyr soule eternally

A wretchyd man, alas make clere thy reason Remember thoughe god the suffer thus longe tyme He graunteth that space to amende the in season. And nat dayly to encreas thy synne and cryme Somtyme he punyssheth with infernall abhyme Shortly for synne, somtyme thoughe one mysdo He suffreth longe: but yet truste nat therto

The longer vnpunysshed, the sorer is the payne And if thou wylt nat gyue to me credence Of sodome and Gomor the Bybyll sheweth playne Howe God rightwysely ponysshed theyr offence And also Solym, towne of great excellence For vyciousnes god ponysshed bytterly Whiche sholde vs cause for to lyue rightwysely.

The rightwyse god also dyd sore chastyce Tthe Nilicolyans and them vtterly destroy For theyr contynuynge in theyr syn and vyce And theyr lynage longe kepte from welth and ioy In great trouble whiche dyd theyr hertis noy: Howe be it that they were good and innocent For theyr fathers faute they suffred punysshement

But to our purpose to retourne agayne. He that ought boroweth whiche he can nat pay Of a wolfe rauysshynge foloweth the trayne But though he all swolowe yet can he by no way Deuoure the tyme nor the prefyxed day Wherfore if he than disceyue his credytour He oft hym chastyth with iustyce and rygour

Ryght in lyke wyse our lorde omnipotent In this worlde to lyue grauntyth vs tyme and space Nat styll to synne, but vnto this intent To leue our vyce, and folowe the way of grace But if we styll contynue in one case And haue done no good to pay hym at our day In hell pryson he iustly shall vs lay

BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

Thou fole mysmyndyd to large of sconscyence To the I speke that art a lewde dettour Borowe thou no thynge, noble grote ne pens. More than thou mayst agayne pay thy credytour Right so endeuer the to pay thy sauyour His right and dewty, with a glad wyll and fayne That is true seruyce, with glory and honour Than shalt thou surely escape infernall payne.

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Of inprofytable and vayne prayers vowes and peticyons.

Here we repreue (reperue) ye and reuyle. A sorte of folys lewde of condicions Whose herte and tunge theyr soules doth defyle By theyr blynde prayers and yll peticions Suche folowe no techynge nor gode monysyons For often many of them with tunge doth pray Theyr mynde, abstract nat knowynge what they say

Man oft desyreth with great affeccion That thynge of god, whiche thynge if god wolde graunt. Sholde be at last vnto thyer destruccyon Examples hereof thou canst nat lacke nor want The great Medas somtyme kynge tryumphant. Of Phrygye By his owne folysshe desyre With paynfull hunger, his lyfe breth dyd expyre

This kynge Mydas of whom I haue you tolde Of god desyred with prayer dylygent. That all that he touchyd tourne myght vnto golde His prayer was harde, he obteynyd his intent But nat to his welth, but mortall punysshement For whan he brede or drynke tast or touche sholde Incontynent was it tourned in to golde

Thus was his prayer to his owne damage For at the laste he dyed in wo and payne For no golde coude his sore hunger asswage Nor his desyre coude he nat call agayne. Thus his peticion desyred was in vayne: And where he wenyd great welth to get therby He dyed in shame hunger and mysery.

Some dayly pray with marueylous besynes Cryeng and syghynge to god omnypotent For to haue plenty of welth ioy and ryches And to be made ryche myghty and excellent. O cursyd lyuers, o blynde men of intent On suche desyres they set theyr mynde and thought Whiche thousandes vnto shamefull ende hath brought

What profyted the myghty edefyces: Of Lycynus, or lyuelode of excesse: What profyteth the money gotten in vyces Of riche Crassus, or cresus, great ryches They all ar dede by theyr vnhappynes And that lewdely, nat by deth naturall Theyr blynde desyres chefe rote and cause of all

Another whiche is in youthes prosperyte For strength and myght often to god doth pray Some of theyr lyfe to haue prolyxyte Desyreth god, and here to byde alway In riches welth, ioy and solempne aray But yet they in glotony take suche custome That they slea them selfe longe or theyr day be come

Alas mad fole why prayest thou for age Syns it so greuous is and ymportable Unstable and full of dolour and damage Odyous to youth and intollerable Say folysshe man whiche art of mynde vnstable Is it nat great foly to any creature To pray for that thynge, whiche he can nat endure

Peleus, and Nestor and many other mo As Itackes and laertes, sore haue complayned For to longe age, euer full of payne and wo Wherwith theyr bodyes sore haue ben constrayned And with great sorowes and dyuers often payned: And to conclude brefly in one sentence Oft to age falleth moche inconuenyence

Yet ar mo folys whiche ought repreued be And they ar suche whiche styll on god doth call For great rowmes, offyces and great dignyte No thynge intendynge to theyr greuous fall For this is dayly sene, and euer shall That he that coueytys hye to clym aloft If he hap to fall, his fall can nat be soft

Some other pray for bewty and fayrnes And that to a cursyd purpose and intent Wherby they lese the heuenly blyssydnes: Theyr soule subduynge to infernall turment O ye mad folys of myndes ympotent Pray your Pater noster with deuoute herte and mynde For therin is all that is nedefull to mankynde

Our sauyour criste whyle he was on this grounde Amonge vs synners in this vale of mysery Taught his disciples this prayer whiche doth sounde Nere to this sentence, nor greatly doth nat vary (Our father wiche art in heuen) eternally Thy name be halowyd (graunt that to thy kyngdome) All we thy seruauntis worthely may come

In heuen and erth thy wyll be done alway And of thy great grace and thy benygnyte Our dayly brede graunt vnto vs this day Forgyuynge our synnes and our iniquyte: As we forgyue them that to vs detters be And to auoyde temptacion thy grace vnto vs len And vs delyuer from euery yll amen.

Whan thou hast clensyd thy mynde from syn before And sayd this prayer to thy maker deuoutly Thou nedyst nat of hym to desyre more Yet mayst thou pray and desyre rightwysly For helthe of soule within thy hole body For stedfast fayth and yll name to eschewe. And chastely to lyue (by his help) in vertue

Thus sholde thou pray thou wretche both day and nyght With herte and mynde vnto thy creatoure: And nought by foly to asshe agaynst right To hurte or losse to thy frende or neyghboure Nor to thy fo by yll wyll or rygoure But if god to thy prayers alway sholde enclyne Oft sholde come great sorowe to the and to all thyne

THE ENUOY OF BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

Man clere thy mynde or thou begyn to pray Els though thy prayer be iust it is but vayne And kepe togyther thy hurte and tonge alway Or els doutles thou lesest all thy payne From lewde peticions thy mynde thou ought refrayne If thou desyre yll to thy fo by malyce At thy peticion god shall haue dysdayne For though thou be wrothe god is nat in lyke wyse

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Of vnprofytable stody.

Nowe in this Nauy many them selfe present Of this our roylame and from beyond the see Whiche in theyr stody or lewde and neglygent Lesynge theyr tyme at the vnyuersyte Yet count they them selfe of great auctoryte With theyr proude hodes on theyr neckes hangynge They haue the lawde: but other haue the cunnynge

They thynke that they haue all scyence perfytely Within theyr hertes bostynge them of the same Though they therto theyr mynde dyd neuer aply Without the thynge, they ioy them of the name But suche mad folys to theyr great losse and shame Whyle they sholde norysshe theyr myndes with science They seke theyr pleasour, gyuen to neglygence

They wander in euery inconuenyence From strete to strete, from tauerne to tauerne But namely youth, foloweth all offence No thynge intendynge the profyte to dyscerne Nor fruyte of cunnynge wherby they myght gouerne Them selfe by reason, but suche thynges they ensue Wherby they neyther get good maners nor vertne

But he that intendeth to come to the science And godly wysdome of our elders: certayne. He must sore stody, for without dilygence And besy laboure no man can it obtayne None ought to cesse: though it firste be a payne. In good perseueraunce getteth great ryches Where no good cometh by sleuthfull ydelnes.

But moste I marueyll of other folys blynde Whiche in dyuers scyencis ar fast laborynge Both daye and nyght with all theyr herte and mynde But of gramer knowe they lytyll or no thynge Whiche is the grounde of all lyberall cunnynge Yet many ar besy in Logyke and in lawe Whan all theyr gramer is skarsly worth a strawe

If he haue onys red the olde dotrinall With his diffuse and vnparfyte breuyte He thynketh to haue sene the poyntis of grammer all. And yet of one errour he maketh two or thre Precyan or sulpice disdayneth he to se Thus many whiche say that they theyr grammer can Ar als great folys as whan they firste began

One with his speche rounde tournynge lyke a whyle Of logyke the knottis doth lows and vndo In hande with his sylogysimes, and yet doth he fele No thynge what it menyth, nor what longeth therto Nowe sortes currit: Nowe is in hande plato Another comyth in with bocardo and pheryson And out goeth agayne a fole in conclusyon

There is nought else but Est and non est Blaberynge and chydynge, as it were beawlys wyse They argue nought els but to proue man a beest Homo est Asinus is cause of moche stryfe Thus passe forth these folys the dayes of theyr lyfe In two syllabis, not gyuynge aduertence To other cunnynge doctryne, nor scyence.

I wyll nat say but that it is expedyent The to knowe of Logyke the chrafte and connynge For by argument it maketh euydent Moche obscurenes, somtyme enlumynynge The mynde: and sharpynge the wyt in many a thynge But oft yet by it a thynge playne bryght and pure Is made diffuse, vnknowen harde and obscure

It is ynoughe therof to knowe the grounde And nat therin to wast all thy lyfe holly Styll grutchynge lyke vnto the frogges sounde Or lyke the chaterynge of the folysshe pye If one afferme the other wyll deny Sophestry nor Logyke with their art talcatyfe Shewe nat the way vnto the boke of lyfe

With suche folyes tender youth is defylyd And all theyr dayes on them they set delyte But godly doctryne is from theyr myndes exylyd Whiche sholde the body and soule also profyte They take no layser, pleasur nor respyte To other scyences, pleasaunt and profytable But without ende in one thynge chat and bable

One rennyth to almayne another vnto fraunce To parys padway Lumbardy or spayne Another to Bonony, Rome or orleance To cayne, to Tolows, Athenys or Colayne And at the last retournyth home agayne More ignorant, blynder and gretter folys Than they were whan they firste went to the scolys

One bostynge the name of a lawer or deuyne His proude hode hye vpon his stately necke: Thus muste a gode clerke vnto a foule enclyne Lowt with the body and with obedyence becke And thoughe it tourne to theyr rebuke and checke Yet nowe a dayes ouer many suche there be. Whiche in stede of cunnynge vseth audacyte

The hode must answere for the follysshe student Theyr tyme hath ben lost frutles and barayne. Theyr frendes godes on suche folyes ar spent To their damage thought hunger and payne: Thus to conclude: me thynke it is but vayne The frendes to labour the dayes of theyr lyue To spare for suche scolers whiche shall neuer thryue

The great foly, the pryde, and the enormyte Of our studentis, and theyr obstynate errour Causeth me to wryte two sentences or thre More than I fynde wrytyn in myne actoure The tyme hath ben whan I was conductoure Of moche foly, whiche nowe my mynde doth greue Wherfor of this shyp syns I am gouernoure. I dare be bolde myne owne vyce to repreue

Howe be it I knowe my wordes shall suche greue As them selfe knoweth fawty and culpable But if they be wroth: take they me by the sleue For they shall bere the hode and I wyll the bable: But firste ye studentis that ar of mynde vnstable Ye wasters and getters by nyght in felde or towne Within my Nauy wolde I set you to a cable If I not fered lyst ye your selfe wolde drowne

Also I fere lyst my shyp sholde synke for syn If that Cupido and Uenus seruytours On the vnsure se my shyp entred within Or all the folys promotyd to honours I none receyue can of hye progenytours My shyp is nat dressyd for them conuenyent And to I fere lyst theyr cruell rygours: Sholde rayse to my shyp some tempest or tourment

THENUOY OF BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

Fy studentis clens your myndes of this cryme Gyue ones your hertis to parfyte dylygence Howe longe in Idelnes, wyll ye lese your tyme In pryde and ryot, with all other offence Alas what profyte get ye by neglygence But spende your goodes in all iniquyte And where your frendes thynke, ye labour for scyence: Ye lese your tyme bryngynge them to pouertee

Leue of suche stody as is vnprofytable Without fruyte outher godly discyplyne And gyue your myndes to scyences lawdable Where ye may your herte set and inclyne: To Arystotyls or Platoys doctryne And nat alway on logyke or Sophestry I wyll nat say but it is a thynge dyuyne And moche worth to knowe Phylosophy

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Of them that folysshly speke agaynst the workes of god.

He is a fole and laboreth in vayne: Whiche with small brondes of fyre flamynge bryght Entendyth with laboure besynes and payne Of the shynynge sonne for to encrease the lyght Suche one assayeth a thynge passynge his myght And is a fole to set thought or delyte To mende that thynge whiche god hath made perfyte

But yet is he a moche gretter fole truely Whiche wyll correct that thynge whiche god hath done And doth nat his herte his wyll and mynde aply To goddes workes and deuyne prouysyon Of all other maddest is his condycion And more frantyfe forsoth I may hym call Than they that ar vext with furyes infernall:

(Thou fole) the myght of god omnipotent In vertue and wysdome so largely doth extende His maiesty, and power is so excellent His glorious godhede his workes doth defende So that no mortall man can them amende Wenest thou mad fole that thou amende cannest ought That he hath done: whiche made all thynge of nought

He that hath made the heuen and firmament The londe, the se, and euery other thynge Is so discrete, so wyse, and prouydent Before his presence parfytely seynge All thynge to come that neuer hath had beynge His workes and dedys ar so perfyte and ryght That none can increas nor yet decreas his myght

He doth all thynge dispose moderate and dispence Knowynge our mynde, and what is to vs most mete All thynge is open and playne in his presence Our inwarde thought must he nedes knowe and wete And euery fortune is playne before his fete He hath all thynge by lawe and order drest And doth no thynge but it is for the best

Therfore whether he gyue thunder snowe or rayne Wynde or wether, tempest or tourment Frost lyghtnynge, fayre wether, outher storme sodayne Mystes or clowdes, yet man sholde be content And nat with worde nouther inwarde intent Agaynst god grutche, but euery day and houre Magnyfye the dedys of god his creatoure

It were moche better thou fole that thou were dome Than to cast lewde wordes agaynst thy lorde in vayne Thou fole he worketh no thynge but by wysedome And yet art thou nat content but dost complayne Thou sekest vengeaunce (for thy synne) and payne In hell for euer, thynkynge thy selfe so wyse To teche thy god, and his warke to dispyse

It is nat lawfull for any, hye nor lowe To be so bolde so blynde or so cruell Grutchynge wordes agaynst his god to throwe Thughe to theyr plaseour a thynge nat fortune well Take example by the children of Israell Whiche oft for this synne suffred great payne and wo Slayne and distroyed, so haue ben many mo

Many a lewde body without wysdome or rede Grutche in theyr myndes, and openly do blame Almyghy god, whan theyr children ar dede Where rather they ought to enioye of the same For it myght fortune that great rebuke and shame Myght to theyr frendes haue come by theyr synne and cryme Soone after: if they had nat dyed at that tyme

Wherfore this one clause is my conclusyon That god our maker is wyse and prouydent Blame nat his workes by thyne abusyon For all that he doth is for the best intent But if that god sholde alwaye assent To our desyres and euer perfourme our wyll Our owne requestis sholde tourne vs to great yll

ALEXANDER BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

O ye mad myndes that no thynge vnderstonde O man presumptuous and vnobedyent Howe darest thou be so bolde to take on honde To repreue the workes of god omnipotent Wylt thou hym teche, as more wyse and prouydent Than he is (whiche made all thynge of nought) Leue of this thy foly, and holde thy selfe content For thou art a fole to set theron thy thought

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Of them that gyue jugement on other.

Many fallyth in great peryll and damage And greuous deth by the vyce of folysshnes Perseuerantly bydynge in theyr outrage Theyr soule infect with synne and viciousnes And though that deth hym alway to them addres Yet hope they in longe lyfe and prosperyte And neuer asswageth theyr blynde iniquyte

The tyme passeth as water in a ryuere No mortall man can it reuoke agayne Dethe with his dartis vnwarely doth apere It is the ende of euery man certayne The last of all ferys and ende of worldly payne But thoughe we knowe that we all must haue an ende We slepe in synne disdaynynge vs to amende

Some thynke them gode, iust and excellent Myghty stronge and worthy of preemynence: Charitable, chast, constant and innocent Nat doutynge deth nor other inconuenyence But yet ar they wrappyd sore in synne and offence And in a vayne hope, contynue in suche wyse That all the worlde (saue them selfe) they dispyse

They take on them the workes of god omnipotent To iuge the secrete of mannys mynde and thought And where no sygne is sene playne and euydent They iuge a man saynge, his lyfe is nought And if deth one hath vnto his last ende brought (As mad) they mende nat theyr mysgouernaunce Nat thynkynge that they ensue must the same daunce

Suche folys fayne causes and often tymes say: That he that is dede vsed ryot and moche foly Whiche causyd hym to dye before his day And that he was feble, or full of malancoly Ouer sad, or prowde, disceytfull and pope holy Uiciously lyuynge in couetyse and gyle Wherfore god suffred hym lyue the shorter whyle

Lo these blynde folys saciat with vyce Jugeth hym that perchaunce dyd nat amys Whyle he here lyuyd, and is in paradyce Rewardyd for his workes in endles ioy and blys Where as this lewde Juger, here in this worlde is Styll lyuynge in synne, suffrynge great payne and wo And though he thynke hym gode shall neuer come therto

He that in synne here lyeth fettered fast And iugeth the deth of his frende or neyboure Whiche from this lyfe is departed and past. Let hym beware, for onys come shall the houre That he must fele dethis dolorouse rygoure. And after that endure infernall punysshement For iugynge and mysdemynge of people innocent

The terme and day, of deth is moche vnsure The deth is sure, the houre is vncertayne Deth is generall to euery creature Theder we must all, be it pleasour or payne Wherfore wysdome wyll that we shulde refrayne From folysshe demynge and nons deth discus After deth god wot howe it shall be with vs

Alas full often a iust man gode and true Of mynde innocent sad sober and sympyll Passynge his tyme in goodnes and vertue Is of these folys thought and demyd for yll And he that is nought, frowarde of dede and wyll Of these folys blynde frantyke and wode. Without all reason is iugyd to be goode

Wherfore I proue that a blynde fole thou art To iuge or deme a mannys thought or intent For onely god knoweth our mynde and hart Wherto we gree and to what thynge we assent But who that is rightwyse iust, and innocent And louyth god with honour and with reuerence Than, may he boldely iuge anothers offence

ALEXANDER BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

Amende you folys: do way these folysshe wayes Take ye no charge: nat mete for your degre. And note these wordes: whiche criste our sauyour sayes Juge nat another, and thou shalt nat iugyd be It longeth onely to the hye dyuynyte To iuge our mynde: for he is true iustyce All thynge discernynge by right and equyte No man sholde deme, whyle hym selfe is in vyce

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Of pluralitees that is to say of them whiche charge them selfe with many benefycis.

Amonge our folys delytynge them in vyces Is yet another sorte of the speritualte Whiche them ouerchargeth with dyuers benefyces And namely suche that lowest ar in degre Of byrth and cunnynge, of this condycion be Defylynge goddes rentis and the chirches goode Them selfe ouer ladynge, as men frantyke and wode

The weght is so great they can it nat endure Theyr myght is small, theyr cunnynge is moche lesse Thus this great charge wherof they haue the cure To infernall Fenn doth this pore Asse oppresse And to an Asse moste lyke he is doutles Whiche takynge on his backe sackes nyne or tenne. Destroyeth hymselfe them leuynge in the fenne

But though one prebende were to hym suffycient Or one benefyce his lyuynge myght suffyse Yet this blynde fole is nat therwith content But labowreth for mo, and alway doth deuyse Fals meanes to come therto by couetyse He gapeth with his wyde throte insaciable And neuer can content his wyll abhomynable

So for the loue of the peny and ryches. He taketh this charge to lyue in welth and eas. Howe be it that sole that hath suche besynes And dyueres charges fyndeth great disseas Neyther shall he god, nor yet the worlde pleas And shall with his burthyns his mynde so vex and comber That halfe his cures, can he nat count nor nomber

These carefull caytyfs, that ar of this same sort With cures ar ouerchargyd so that of theyr mynde. Rest haue they none, solace, pleasour nor conforte Howe be it they thynke therby great welth to fynde They gape yet euer, theyr maners lyke the wynde Theyr lyfe without all terme or sertaynte If they haue two lyuynges, yet loke they to haue thre

The folys whose hertis vnto this vyce ar bounde Upon theyr sholders bereth aboute a sacke. Insaciable without botome, outher grounde: They thynke them nat lade though all be on theyr backe. The more that they haue (the more they thynke they lacke) What deuyll can stop theyr throte so large and wyde Yet many all waste aboute Ryot and pryde

But yet is this moche more abhomynable That asses vntaught without wysdome or scyence Haue theyr proude myndes moste vnsaciable Nat commynge to worshyp by vertue nor prudence Yet counte they them worthy of this excellence Courters become prestis nought knowynge but the dyce They preste not for god, but for a benefyce

The clerke of the kechyn is a prest become In full trust to come to promosyon hye No thynge by vertue cunnynge nor wysdome But by couetyse, practyse and flatery The Stepyll and the chirche by this meane stand awry For some become rather prestis for couetyse. Than for the loue of god or his seruyce.

Alas oft goddes goodes and cristis herytage Of suche folys is wastyd and spent in vayne In great folyes mundaynes and outrage Where it decreed, and ordeyned is certayne. That prestis sholde helpe pore people that lyue in payne And with suche goodes kepe hospytalyte Whiche pryde ryot and Uenus suffreth nat to be

Thus is the grettest parte of the spiritualte Pore preste, persone, vicayr, relygyon and prelate With couetyse acloyde outher prodigalyte And folys promotyd causyth good clerkis haue hate Say lordes and bysshops with other of estate What mouyth you so gladly, suche to promote Whiche haue no cunnynge their wyt skant worth a grote

Wyll ye alway the folysshe asse ouercharge With suche burthyns wherwith it can nat fare And suffer other to walke and ren at large And where they best myght bere theyr backes ar left bare And that is worst of all, suche folys can nat be ware But whan they ar promotyd after theyr owne entent. Yet theyr insaciable mynde can neuer be content.

Some make exchanges and permutacions Some take to ferme, and some let out agayne Other folys for hope make resignacions And some for one god scosyth gladly twayne Some lyueth longe in hunger and in payne And in the somer day skarsly drynketh twyse Sparynge monay therwith to by a benefyce

Some for no wages in court doth attende With lorde or knyght, and all for this polecy To get of his lorde a benefyce at the ende And in the meane tyme ensueth rybawdry And somtyme laboureth by chraft of symony. He playeth a fals cast, nat cessynge to coniure Tyll of some benefyce he at the last be sure

Than if this lorde haue in hym fauoure, he hath hope To haue another benefyce of gretter dignyte And so maketh a fals suggestyon to the pope For a Tot quot outher els a pluralyte Than shall he nat be pleased with .II. nouther thre But dyuers wyll he haue ay choppynge and changynge So oft a fole all and a gode clerke no thynge

These of nought force so that they may haue gayne And golde ynough to spende on rybawdry and pryde They haue the profyte, another hath the payne The cure of the soulys of them is set asyde And no meruayle, for howe sholde they abyde. To teche their parysshynges vertue wysdome or grace Syns no man can be atonys in euery place

Alas these folys our mayster criste betray Of mannes soule wherof they haue the cure And settynge in their stede syr Johnn of garnesey They thynketh them selfe dischargyd quyte and sure These folys note nat that euery creature. Whiche here of soulys doth cure or charge take At domys day a compt for them shall make

But if I sholde touche all the enormytees The immoderat couetyse and desyre of dignyte That nowe is vsed amonge all the degrees Of benefycyd men ouer all the spiritualte I fere displeasour, and also I often se That trouth is blamed, and nat ay best to tell But he that in this lyfe wyll alway besy be To get dyuers prebendes shall haue the last in hell

THENUOY OF BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

What meane ye gyders of Christis herytage Shall ye neuer leue this your deuowrynge mynde Shall ye no tyme your couytyse asswage Whiche in goddes seruyce your hartis sore doth blynde Let this fals traytour no place amonge you fynde Graunt hym no rowne in churche nor in quere. For this is sure ye shall all leue behynde We haue no Cyte, nor place abydynge here

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Of them that prolonge from day to day to amende themselfe.

If vnto any almyghty god doth sende From heuen aboue by inspyracion dyuyne Wyll and gode mynde his synnes to amende And with his grace his thoughtes enlumyne If that synner wyll nat therto enclyne But doth dyffer and dryue frome day to day A fole he is, no wyse man wyll denay

Yet many folowe this inconuenience And knowynge theyr owne vyce, and lyfe full of ordure The payne therof, and howe euery offence And synne is punysshed of eche creature Also they knowe that theyr deth is vnsure And dye they must knowynge no houre nor space Yet synne they styll, nat receyuynge this grace

They folowe the crowes cry to theyr great sorowe Cras cras cras to morowe we shall amende And if we mende nat than, than shall we the next morowe Outher shortly after, we shall no more offende Amende mad fole whan god this grace doth sende He is vnwyse whiche trustes the crowes songe And that affermyth that he shall lyue so longe

Syns deth (as I haue sayde) is so vnstable Wherfore we ought alway vs to prouyde And mende our lyfe and synne abhomynable For though that thou be hole at the euyn tyde Thou knowest nat sure that thou shall here abyde Untyll the morne but if thou dye in that space It shall be to late for the to cry cras cras

Syns it is in thy power that thou may Amende thy selfe whan god inspyreth the Why shalt thou tary vnto another day The longer tary the lesse apt shalt thou be. In olde sores is grettest ieopardye Whan costome and vse is tourned to nature It is right harde to leue: I the ensure

Therfore if that thou lewdly fall in syn By thy frayle flesshe, and the fals fendes trayne Take nat the vse, contynue nat therin But by confessyon shortly ryse agayne Synne alway thretenyth vnto the doer, payne And grutche of conscience with moche thought and wo Yet alwaye ar we redy and prone therto

Mannys lyfe on erth is euyn a chyualry Agaynst our flesshe fyghtyng whiche often doth vs shame Also the deuyll our goostly ennemy On his parte labours to get vs in his frame Thus oft we fall, and than our foly blame Repentynge sore, and wyllynge to refrayne But within an houre we fall therto agayne

Thus euer to vyce ar we redy and prone The gyftis of grace we clene from vs exclude We haue great cause sore to complayne and mone We leue that thynge (our myndes ar so rude) That myght vs gyde to helth and beatytude Thus our owne foly, and our owne blynde madnes Us often ledyth vnto great wretchydnes

And if it fortune, that at any tyme Within our myndes we purpose stedfastly For to confesse our synne, excesse, or cryme Agayne our thought is changyd by and by Away than ren we with the crowys crye With one cras, to morowe, perauenture twayne Without regarde had, vnto infernall payne

But in the meane space if that deth vntretable Arrest the with his mace, fyers and cruell And for thy synne and lyfe abhomynable By iustyce damme thy soule for euer to hell Than woldest thou gladly (If thou myght) do well But there is no grace but doloure payne and sorowe Than is to late to crye cras cras to morowe

THE ENUOY OF THE ACTOUR.

Say what delyte, thou fole or what pleasoure Takest thou in synne and voluptuosyte It is small sothly, and passeth euery houre Lyke to the water, and that in myserye Therfore set nat in synne thy felycyte This day begyn thy lewde lyfe to refuse Perchaunce to morowe sholde be to late to the So sholde cras the crwys songe the sore abuse

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Of hym that is Jelous ouer his wyfe and watcheth hir wayes without cause, or euydent tokyn of hir myslyuynge.

Orestes was neuer so blynde and mad as is he Whiche for his wyfe taketh thought and charge Watchynge hir wayes, thoughe that she gyltles be This fole styll fereth, if she be out at large Lyst that some other his harnes sholde ouercharge But for all his fere and carefull Jelowsy If she be nought there is no remedy.

Thou fole I proue, thy watchynge helpeth nought Thy labour lost is, thou takest this care in vayne In vayne thou takest this Jelowsy and thought In vayne thou sleest thy selfe with care and payne And of one doute thou fole thou makest twayne And neuer shalt fynde eas nor mery lyuynge (Whyle thou thus lyuest) but hatered and chydynge

For locke hir fast and all hir lokes marke. Note all hir steppys, and twynklynge of hir iye. Ordeyne thy watchers and dogges for to barke Bar fast thy dores and yet it wyll nat be Close hir in a Toure with wallys stronge and hye But yet thou fole thou lesist thy trauayle For without she wyll no man can kepe hir tayle

And yet more ouer breche hir with plate and mayle And for all that if she be nought of kynde She shall disceyue the (If she lyst) without fayle But if that she be chast of dede and mynde Hir selfe shall she kepe, though thou hir neuer bynde Thus they that ar chast of nature, wyll byde so And nought wyll be nought what so euer thou do

Thus is it foly and causeth great debate Bytwene man and wyfe, whan he by Jelowsy. His wyfe suspectyth, and doth watche or counterwayt Or hir mysdemyth and kepyth in stratly. Wherfore me thynke it is best remedy For hym that gladly wolde escape the hode Nat to be Jelous: but honest lyuynge and gode

The toure of bras that callyd was darayne. Coude nat the damsell (by name Danes) defende But that Jupiter fonde a cautell and trayne In a golden shoure into hir to discende And to be short, at conclusyon and ende This mayde for all this Toure was there defylyd. And by this lorde was she there brought with childe

By this example it apereth euydent That it is foly a woman to kepe or close For if she be of lewde mynde or intent Outher preuy or apert there about she goys Deuysynge wayes with hir good man to glose But specially if that he hir suspect With a hode shall he vnwars be ouerdect

But in the worlde right many other be Whiche neuer folowe this fals and lothly way We haue example of one Penolope Whiche though that she alone was many a day Hir husbonde gone, and she vexed alway. By other louers: yet was she euer trewe Unto hir olde: and neuer changyd for newe

I fynde that often this folysshe Jelowsy Of men; causyth some women to mysdo Where as (were nat theyr husbondes blynde foly) The pore wymen knowe nat what longyd therto Wherfore suche men ar folys and mad also And with theyr hodes whiche they them selfe purchace Within my shyp shall haue a rowme and place

For where as perchaunce theyr wyfes ar chaste and goode By mannys vnkyndnes they chaunge and turne theyr herte So that the wyfe must nedes gyue them a hode But to be playne some wymen ar esy to conuert For if one take them where they can nat start. What for theyr husbondes folysshe Jelowsy And theyr owne pleasour: they scars can ought deny

THE ENUOY OF THE ACTOUR.

Therfore ye wymen lyue wysly and eschewe These wanton wowers and suche wylde company Get you gode name by sadnes and vertue Haunt no olde quenys that nourysshe rybawdry Than fere ye nat your husbondes Jelowsy If ye be fawtles, chaste and innocent But wanton wowers ar ful of flatery Euer whan they labour for their intent.

Be meke, demure, bocsome, and obedyent, Gyue none occasyon to men by your foly If one ought asshe, deny it incontynent And euer after auoyde his company Beware of cornes, do nat your erys aply To pleasaunt wordes nor letters eloquent If that Helena had so done certaynly She had nat ven rauysshed by handes violent

* * * * *

Of auoutry, and specially of them y^t ar bawdes to their wyues, knowynge and wyll nat knowe, but kepe counseyll, for couetyse, and gaynes or auauntage.

O what disorder, what shame and what domage Is nowe brought in, and right lykely to abyde In the sacrament of holy mariage The fere of payne and lawe is set a syde Faythe is clene lost, and fewe them selfe do gyde After theyr othe, but for lacke of punysshement. They brake and despyse this dyuyne sacrament

Alas the lawe that Julius dyd ordeyne Agaynst auoutry: is nowe a slepe or dede None feryth iustyce punysshement nor payne Both man and woman ar past all fere and drede Theyr promes brekynge, without respect or hede Had to theyr othe, by mariage solemnysed The bed defylyd. the sacrament despysed

Many ar whiche thynke it is a thynge laudable Anothers sponse to pullute and dyffame And howe beit the synne is moche abhomynable They fere nat god, nor dout nat worldly shame But rather boldly they bost them of the same They note no thynge the mortall punysshement Taken on auoutrers in the olde testament

Yet is another thynge more lothsome and vyle That many husbondes knowynge theyr wyues syn Absent themselfe and stop theyr iyen the whyle Kepynge the dore whyle the auoutrer is within They forse no thynge so they may money wyn Lyuynge as bawdes, and that to theyr owne wyues O cursyd money, this madnes thou contryuys

O cursyd husbonde thou ought to be asshamyd To set so great fors for syluer or for golde That thou for them thy wyfe wyll se diffamyd And helpe therto: ye: and the dede beholde Blame it blynde dryuyll: by the lawe so thou sholde And nat therat to gyggyll laghe and Jest It is a lewde byrde that fyleth his owne nest

The Hystory of Atreus expressyth playne Howe he (by his owne brother) for auoutry Was dryuen from his royalme and his childre slayne For his mysdede: without: let or remedy These children thus bought theyr faders mad foly What shall I wryte the wo and heuynes Whiche Tarquyn had for rauysshynge lucres

I rede in the hystory of one Virginius Whiche to thyntent this foule synne to eschewe Whan his doughter was desyred by Clodius And that by force; the fader his dowghter slewe Bytwene the handes of Clodius vntrue The fader answered (whan men his dede dyd blame) Better is to dye chast: than longe to lyue in shame

But of auoutry somwhat more to speke In it is yre Enuy and paynfull pouertye. And also he or she that mariage doth breke May fere of deth eternall whan they dye And here without welth ioy and rest shall they be And well ar they worthy (forsoth) of sore tourment In hell: for brekynge this holy sacrament

But in the meane tyme here shalt thou haue discorde And neuer prosper in vertue nor ryches And lothsome be before the almyghty lorde Thy dedes shall purchace mysfortune and distres Thou lyue shalt in shame and dye in wretchydnes And if thou procede therin and nat amende Some great shame shalt thou haue before thyne ende.

THE ENUOY OF THE ACTOUR.

O creatures vnkynde leue ye this outrage Breke nat your othe whiche ye made solemly Eche one to other for to lyue in mariage Defyle ye it nat by synne and vylany On both partis if ye lyue faythfully After your promes: in loue, fayth and concorde Than shall ye in erth encreas and multyply And after haue syght of the almyghty lorde

Let all spousys in theyr myndes comprehende The lawys and decrees of the olde testament Howe they that in auoutry dyd offende Were outher stonyd or els openly brent Wherfore syns goddes son omnypotent. Confermed hath the olde testament with the newe Auoutrers nowe deserue that same punysshement But well is to them, that stedfast ar and trewe

* * * * *

Of hym that nought can and nought wyll lerne, and seyth moche, lytell berynge away, I mene nat theuys.

Saynt George to borowe our Nauy is aflote Forth shall we sayle, thoughe that it be a payne And moche laboure to forge a pryuate bote For euery faute: yet shall I nat refrayne My hande nor penne: thoughe vnsure be my gayne My laboure sure: my wyt and reason thynne Than leue a thynge vnendyd better nat begynne

But in this place shall I a Shyp ordayne For that fole: that heryth great doctryne Wherby good maners and vertue aperyth playne He seth all goodnes, stody, and disciplyne And yet wyll nat his mynde therto enclyne But though he knowe what thynge is godlyest Ouer all the worlde, yet is he styll a beest.

Many of this sort wander and compase All studies, the wonders of the worlde to se With vnstabyll wynges fleynge from place to place Some seyth lawe and some dyuynyte But for all this byde they in one degre And if they were Asses and folys blynde before After all these syghtes yet ar they moche more

They se moche nought lernynge, and hauynge no delyte In wysdome nor maners vertue nor goodnes Theyr tyme is loste, without wysdome or profyte Without grace, or other holynes But whyle they labour thus with besynes If they se ought newe, or any folysshe toy That lyghtly they lerne, and set theron theyr ioy.

By this desyre folys may knowen be For wytles men of fleynge mynde and brayne Ar best pleasyd with thynges of neweltye And them to haue, they spare no cost nor payne To dyuers londes to ren but all in vayne And so they labour alway from londe to londe To se all wonders, but nought they vnderstonde

Some fle to se the wonders of englonde Some to the court to se the maners there Some to Wallys, Holonde, to Fraunce or Irlonde To Lybye, afryke, and besyly enquere. Of all marueyles, and skantly worth a here Some vnto Fraunce and some to Flaunders ren To so the wayes, and workes of cunnynge men

And to be shorte ouer all they range Spendynge theyr goodes about vnthryftynes In countrees knowen, vnknowen and strange But whan theyr iourney they homwarde must addres As folys vnware, and vagabundes thryftles They haue nought lerned, kept, nor with them brought Of maners, wysdome or other thynge that is ought

They that by the se sayle to londes strange Oft chaunge the place and planete of the fyrmament But theyr mynde nor maners they ne turne nor chaunge And namely suche that ar lewde and neglygent What euer they se styll one is theyr intent Whan he departyd, If that he were a sote Agayne anone he comyth in the same mynde and cote

Say mad folys blynde ouersene, and worthy scorne Fayne wolde I knowe what necessyte ye haue To go from the place where ye were bred and borne Into another londe to lerne to play the knaue Your mynde vnstable sheweth playne that ye raue Laboure nat so sore, to lerne to be a fole That cometh by it selfe without any other scole

He that is borne in walys or small brytayne To lerne to pyke and stele nedys nat go to Rome. What nede we sayle to Flaunders or Almayne To lerne glotony, syns we may it lerne at home Suche lewdnes soon may we lerne of our wombe He that wyll lerne falshode gyle or sotelte May lerne it here as well as beyonde the se.

To passe the se to lerne Uenus rybawdry It is great foly, for thou mayst lerne thy fyll In shoppis Innes and sellers, ye somtyme openly At saynt Martyns Westmynster or at the tour hyll So that I fere all London, in tyme it shall fyll For it is there kept in lyght and in darke That the pore Stuys decays for lacke of warke

But brefely to speke, and this to set a syde He that on vyce, and synne wyll set his entent May lerne it in Englonde, if he at home abyde And that of all sortis: god sende amendement But if thou alway wyll nede be dylygent To labour in the worlde about from place to place Do as dyd Plato, than shalt thou fynde great grace

This godly plato laboured with dilygence To Egypt, and other londes sparynge for no payne Where euer he came: augmentynge his scyence And at the last retourned to Grece agayne His countrey natyf: with laude and name souerayne Thus he for all his wysdome laboured besyly But that fowle that nought can nought settyth by

Wherfore that gose that styll about wyll wander Moche seynge and herynge, and nought berynge away Shall home come agayne as wyse as a gander But more fole is he that may lerne euery day Without cost or laboure out of his owne countrey And whan the well of wysdome renneth by theyr dore Yet looth they the water as if that it were soure

ALEXANDER BARKLAY AD FATUOS VT DENT LOCUM OCTO SECUNDARIIS BEATE MARIE DE OTEREY QUI QUIDEM PRIMA HUIUS RATIS TRANSTRA MERENTUR.

Soft folys soft, a lytell slacke your pace Tyll I haue space you to order by degre I haue eyght neyghbours, that firste shall haue a place Within this my shyp, for they most worthy be They may theyr lernynge receyue costeles and fre. Theyr wallys abuttynge and ioynynge to the scoles. No thynge they can, yet nought wyll they lerne nor se Therfore shall they gyde this one shyp of foles.

THE ENUOY OF BARKLAY.

O vnauysyd, vnwyse and frowarde man Great cause thou hast to morne sore and complayne Whan no goodnes vertue nor wyt thou can And yet to lerne thou hast scorne and dysdayne Alas man mende, and spare no maner payne To get wysdome, and it thou shalt nat want Hym that nought wyll knowe, god wyll nat knowe certayne Wo is hym that wylfully is ignorant.

* * * * *

Of great wrathe, procedynge of small occasyon.

Come nere, ye wrathfull men, take your rowme and place Within our shyp, and to slake our hastynes Mount on an Asse slowe of hir gate and pace Syns troublous wrath, in you, styreth this madnes Often lacke of myght asswagyth cruelnes To a wylde cowe god doth short hornys sende Wrath is great foly, where myght may nat extende

O man yll myndyd what helpeth the this yre None the commendyth whiche doth thy maners marke What doste thou: but the waste with thyne owne fyre Narrynge with thyselfe lyke as a dogge doth barke Without meke worde and pleasyd with no warke Art thou: but thoughe all men be dylygent Mad wrathe to please, yet who can it content

This man malycious whiche troubled is with wrath Nought els soundeth but the hoorse letter R Thoughe all be well, yet he none answere hath Saue the dogges letter, glowmynge with nar nar Suche labour nat this mad rancour to defar Nor yet his malyce to mytygate or asswage But ioyeth to be drede of men for this outrage

His mouth fomyth his throte out gorgyth fyre His ferefull furoure is, his hole felycyte By his great yre, doth he coueyte and desyre Dowtyd to be: of the pore comontye His owne madnes and cruell furyosyte Wyll he nat knowe as he were nat culpable Of this mad fury and vyce abhomynable

Hym selfe is blynde, but other well note his dede He shall be poynted whether he go or ryde Saynge one to other take gode regarde and hede Of yonder furyous fole whome reason doth nat gyde Beware his wayes fle hym on euery syde Who that hym sueth both hurte and shame shall fynde Thus other hym notyth but he hymself is blynde

So his Asse crys to hym ar inuysyble He thynkyth to haue pacyence though that he haue none And vnto hym it is thynge incredyble That suche ar folys whose pacyence is gone Thus coueytyth he to kepe his erys alone And to wrathfull men he wyll no thynge obiect For that hym selfe is with the same infect

But somwhat to touche the inconuenyences Whiche by this wrath procedyth to mankynde It is chefe grounde of many great offences Destroynge reason blyndynge the wyt and mynde By malyce man is to all yll inclynde Both symple man, and lordes excellent Do that by wrath oft whiche they after repent

Reuoke thy mynde, somwhat thy herte enclyne Unto Archytas a man of hye wysdome Borne the the ryche Cyte namyd Tarentyne Rede howe that he his malyce dyd ouercome For thoughe his seruaunt was fals to hym become And he sore mouyd to auenge the same offence Yet he refraynyd his wrathe by pacyence

So socrates so Senyk and Plato Suffred great wronge great iniury and payne And of your fayth sayntis right many mo For christ our mayster dyd great turment sustayne What wo or payne cowde saynt Laurance refrayne From pacience wherfore it is great shame For christen men if they do not the same

They suffred deth, ye, and yet were pacyent And many haue prayed, for suche that haue them slayne Where thou mad fole takest greuous punysshement For small occasyon, ye come by chaunce sodayne Fole thou art blynde, and mad to set thy brayne All thynge to venge (by wrath) that doth mysfall For he that part hath lost: by wrath oft lesyth all

And forsoth no meruayle, if suche wyse actours Hath wrathes madnes, expelled and set asyde For where that wrath doth rayne with his furours There can no reason nor wysedome longe abyde The wyt it wastyth: so is it a lewde gyde Therfore let mesure, this malyce holde agayne But pacyence is brydyll his madnes to refrayne

It longeth nat to any man of hye prudence For to be wrothe, yrous, or gyuys to malancoly No suche passyon nor inconuenyence Can fall to man, ay stedfast wyse and holy But folys ar moste troublyd with this foly Where as a wyse man for any aduersyte Lyueth in quyete mynde and tranquylyte

A man well manerd, sad sober and dyscrete If he be ware, wyse, chrafty and prouydent Beholdeth all thynge before his syght and fete. Gydynge hym by mesure a vertue excellent Where as a fole doth all without aduysement And in euery thynge shewyth his folysshnes Wroth at eche worde, as mayster of madnes

Wherfore ye folys se ye no lenger tary But on the dull Asse hastely assende That a slowe beest may hasty folys cary For your mad wrath dowtyth no thynge the ende Your madnes can nat your blynde mysdede defende For who that one sleyth, angry and feruent Ought to be hangyd whan he is pacyent

THE ENUOY OF THE ACTOUR.

Blynde myndyd man whiche wylt all thynge ouercome Reputynge thy selfe, moste souerayne and royall If thou be wyse or partener of wysdome Labour to ouercome thyne owne selfe firste of all Thy wrath asswage thou in especyall Let neyther malyce, nor yre with the abyde Thou art a fole the chefe or lorde to call Of other: whan thou can nat thy selfe well gyde.

* * * * *

Of the mutabylyte of fortune.

We dayly proue by example and euydence That many be made folys mad and ignorant By the brode worlde, puttynge trust and confydence In fortunes whele vnsure and inconstant Some assay the whele thynkynge it pleasant But whyle they to clym vp haue pleasour and desyre Theyr fete them faylyth so fall they in the myre

Promote a yeman, make hym a gentyl man And make a Baylyf of a Butchers son Make of a Squyer knyght, yet wyll they if they can Coueyt in theyr myndes hyer promosyon And many in the worlde haue this condicion In hope of honour by treason to conspyre But ofte they slyde, and so fall in the myre

Suche lokys so hye that they forget theyr fete On fortunes whele whiche turneth as a ball They seke degrees for theyr small myght vnmete Theyr folysshe hertis and blynde se nat theyr fall Some folys purpose to haue a rowme Royall Or clym by fortunes whele to an empyre The whele than turneth lyuynge them in the myre

O blynde man say what is thyne intent To worldly honoures so greatly to entende Or here to make the hye ryche and excellent Syns that so shortly thy lyfe must haue an ende None is so worthy, nor can so hye ascende Nor nought is so sure if thou the trouth enquyre But that it may doute to fall downe to the myre

There is no lorde Duke kynge nor other estate But dye they must, and from this wolde go All worldly thynges whiche god hath here create Shall nat ay byde, but haue an ende also What mortall man hath ben promotyd so: In worldly welthe or vncertayne dignyte That euer of lyfe had houre of certaynte

In stormy wyndes lowest trees ar most sure And howsys surest whiche ar nat byldyd hye Where as hye byldynges may no tempest endure Without they be foundyd sure and stedfastly So gretest men haue moste fere and ieopardy Better is pouertye though it be harde to bere Than is a hye degre in ieopardy and fere,

The hyllys ar hye, the valeys ar but lowe In valeys is come the hyllys ar barayne On hyest places most gras doth nat ay growe A mery thynge is mesure and easy to sustayne The hyest in great fere, the lowest lyue in payne Yet better ly on grounde, hauynge no name at all Than hye on a Clyf ferynge alway to fall

Thus as me thynke it is no thynge lawdable On fortunes whele, for one to clym to hye Syns the swyft cours therof is so vnstable And all must we leue whan we depart and dye Of our short lyfe haue we no certayntye For lachesys (whan that thou hast lefte drede) Of thy lyue dayes shall shortly breke the threde.

Atropos is egall to pore man and estate Defar wyll nat deth by prayer ne request No mortall man may his furour mytygate. Nor of hym haue one day longer here to rest: Content the with measure (therfore) for it is best Coueyt nat to moche in honour to excell It is a fowle fall to fall from erth to hell

Unstable fortune exalteth some a loft To this intent, them to brynge to an yll ende For who that hye clymmeth his fall can nat be soft If that mysfortune constrayne hym to dyscende Though Julius Cesar his lordshyp dyd extende Ouer all the worlde: yet fortune at the last. From lyfe and lordshyp hym wretchydly dyd cast

This hath ben sene, is sene, and euer shall That most peryll is in hyest dignyte Howe many estatis, howe many men Royall. Hath fortune dryuyn downe into aduersyte Rede dyuers cronycles, and thou shall playnly se That many thousandes hath endyd in doloure By theyr immoderate mynde to honoure

Ouer rede Bochas and than shalt thou se playne The fall of prynces wryten ryght compendeously There shalt thou se what punysshement and payne Haue to them fallen, somtyme by theyr foly And oft is moche preuy hatered and enuy Had agaynst lordes of the rude comonte Where euer they go: they lyue in ieopardye

Ay dowtynge deth by cursed gyle and treason Eche thynge mysdemynge, ferynge to be opprest By some mysfortune, with venym or with poyson. Thus in great honour is neyther ioy nor rest But thought and fere, ye whyle the lyfe doth lest Thus who that procuryth great honour to attayne Procuryth with all, enuy, peryll, fere and payne

A lorde or state whom many men doth drede With loueles fere, and fayned countenaunce Unto hym selfe ought wysely to take hede And them to fere, if he wyll voyde myschaunce For why a comonty is of suche ignoraunce And so enuyous, that both erly and late They muse to destroy hym whom, they fere and hate

A man promotyd vnto hye dygnyte Shall haue loue shewyd hym by adulacion But no true loue nouther faythfull amyte. Good fame nor name, ne commendacion Ye though he be worthy great exaltacion Pytefull louynge and full of equyte Yet harde is to please a folysshe comonte

Therfore me thynke of all thynge it is best Man to be pleased and content with his degre For why in mesure, is suerty eas and rest And ay moste peryll in hyest dignyte Fortune is full of changes and mutabylyte Trust nat therto, therby comyth do gode But nowe hye nowe lowe, vnstable as a flode

ALEXANDER BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

Labour nat man with to moche besy cure To clymme to hye lyst thou by fortune fall For certaynly, that man slepyth nat sure That lyeth lows vpon a narowe wall Better somtyme to serue, than for to gouerne all For whan the Net is throwen into the se The great fysshe ar taken and the pryncipall Where as the small escapyth quyte and fre

* * * * *

Of them that be diseasyd and seke and ar impacient and inobedyent to the Phesycyan.

He that is feble with sekenes outher wounde Wherwith he feleth hym selfe so kept in payne That dye he muste but if remedy be founde He is a fole, if that he haue dysdayne Of wyse Phesycyans: and medecines souerayne And wyll nat sue theyr counsell and aduysement Wherby he myght haue helth and short amendement

Thoughe the Phesycyan (of his lyfe) hym assure So he be ruled, and vnto his mynde agre The pacyent yet kepyth no dyete nor mesure In mete nor drynke, and wyll nat gouerned be But foloweth Ryot and all superfluyte Receyuynge colde water in stede of ale or wyne Agaynst read and counsell of crafty medycyne

What mete or drynke that is most contagious And most infectyf to his sekenes or dyseas And to hym forbyden, as moste contrarious Unto his sekenes. That namely doth hym pleas But that thynge that myght hym helpe and greatly eas He hatyth moste, and wyll none receyue at all. Tyll this small sore, at the last become mortall

Suche wyll no counsell ensue, nor mesure haue Nor temper theym selfe in lesse nor yet in more. Tyll theyr yll gouernaunce brynge them to theyr graue Retournynge into grounde lyke as they were before But who that soone wolde, be helyd of his sore Whan it is newe ought to fynde remedy. For in olde sorys is greatest ieopardy

A small sparcle often tyme doth augment It selfe: and groweth to flames peryllous Right so small wellys whiche semeth to be spent With lytell sprynges and Ryuers, ofte so growys Unto great waters, depe and ieopadous. So a small sore augmentyth, styll preuely By lytell and lytell for lacke of remedy

A small diseas whiche is ynoughe durable At the begynnynge, for lacke of medycyne At longe contynuaunce becomyth incurable The paynfull pacyent bryngynge vnto ruyne Wherfore who wyll to his owne helth enclyne And soone be helyd of yll without all tary To the Phesician ought nat to be contrary

Obstynat frowarde or inobedyent Ought he nat be, but with a pacyent mynde Shewe all his soris truly playne and euydent To the Phesician if he wyll socour fynde. And thoughe his saluys in paynes hym sore bynde. Let nat for that, but after his wyll the gyde Better a shorte payne, than that doth longe abyde

No sore can be releuyd without payne. Forsake nat the short, the longe payne to eschewe To the Phesycian we ought in worde be playne And shewe hym our sore, whether it be olde or newe For in thy wordes if that thou be nat trewe Or kepe ought close, thou dysceyuest be thou sure Thy selfe. and nat hym that of the hath the cure.

In lyke fourme who comyth vnto confessyon There to declare howe he his lyfe hath spent And shewyth nat his synne lyke wyse as he hath done Hymself he disceyuyth, as blynde of his entent. Thus many one endureth infernall tourment With wo contynuall and payne for euermore For kepynge secrete there, of his goostly sore.

Thus who that is payned in any malady Bodely or gostly, ought nat to be callyd wyse To the Phesycian without that he aply. And his preceptis hant kepe and exercyse But now olde wytches dare boldly interpryse To intromyt to hele all infyrmyte And many them byleue, whiche sothly is pyte

Suche wytches of theyr byleue abhomynable On brest or hede of the paynfull pacyent With theyr wytchecraftis shall compasse chat and bable Assurynge hym of helth, and short amendement Than he that is seke fyxith his intent Upon hir errour: to haue helpe of his sore But she hym leuyth wors than he was before

Poule the apostyll doth boldly say and preue That they whiche to suche wytches wyll assent Ar heretykes, Lolardes and false of theyr byleue Brekynge goddes lawes and commaundement And oft also by profe it apereth euydent That suche as to wytches craftis wyll intende By theyr fals Phesyke come soner to theyr ende

Theyr body dede, theyr soule in ieopardy By mysbyleue for euer in paynes infernall. Whiche ar rewarde for wretchyd synne and heresy But if thou to thy mynde and reason call And of this wrytynge perceyue the sence morall Whan thou art fallen seke and in dedely syn Seke helpe betyme, and byde nat longe therein

THE ENUOY OF BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

Thou man or woman, that lyest seke in vyce To goddes vycayrs confesse thy syn holly So shalt thou from thy goostly yll aryse. For thy soule fyndynge helpe and remedy Without leasynge shewe hym thy synne playnly Let nat for shame nor fall nat thereto agayne Better shewe thy sore there to one secretely Than after openly: and byde eternall payne

Ensewe the counsell of a wyse confessour Take nat colde water in stede of vermayll wyne: For moche swetnes, endure thou a lytell soure Kepe well the dyet and threfolde medicyne Ordayned for synne by spirituall doctryne That is confessyon, the next contrycyon. With satisfaccion these thre, with grace deuyne Ar salues parfyte for all transgressyon

* * * * *

Of ouer open takynges of counsel.

Who that intendyth by chraft and polycy To take many byrdes, outher small or great And layeth before them to playne and openly His lynes snarys, his lyme twyggis or his net He shall no profyte gayne nor auauntage get For if that he his engynes can nat hyde The byrdes shall be ware, and lyghtly fle asyde

So he that wyll openly manace and threte With worde and hande, as he wolde sle adowne ryght Is oft scant abyll a symple hounde to bete. For in his worde is all his force and myght And he that alway thretenyth for to fyght. Oft at the profe is skantly worth a hen For greattest crakers ar nat ay boldest men

Who that agaynst his ennemy wolde fyght And gyueth hym before wepyn and armour. Agaynst hym selfe to encreas his foes myght Suche one hath reason and wyt of smal valour. Ryght so that sole is led in lyke errour Which nought can do, of mater les or more Without he crake and boste therof before.

And also suche bosters and crakers comonly Whiche doth theyr mynde in hasty wordes declare Of other men ar lytell or nought set by And by theyr wordes, full often yll they fare A man also may ryght easely be ware Of folys whiche thus theyr counsell out expres Whose thretenyngs to theyr foes is armour and harnes

But hym call I wyse and crafty of counsell Whiche kepeth close the secretis of his mynde And to no man wyll them disclose nor tell To man nor woman, ennemy nor yet frynde But do his purpose whan he best tyme can fynde Without worde spekynge, and so may his intent Best come to ende, his foo, beynge inprouydent

And specially no man ought to be large Of wordes nor shewe his counsell openly In thynges weyghty, of peryll and great charge Consernynge a royallue, or helth of his body For many ar falsly disceyued fynally By lewde tale berers whiche seke the way to fynde To knowe the preuy counsell of theyr lordes mynde

They fawne and flater to knowe his pryuetee But they forsoth, that wolde knowe thynges newe For the moste part of this condicion be No thynge to kepe, but lyghtly it to shewe. Thus may the saynge of Salomon be fonde true. Whiche sayth that he is wyse, and lyueth happely Whiche to hym selfe kepyth his counsell secretely

I fynde foure thynges whiche by meanes can Be kept close, in secrete, one longe in preuetee The firste is the counsell of a wytles man The seconde a Cyte, whiche byldyd is a bye Upon a mountayne, the thyrde we often se That to hyde his dedes a louer hath no skyll The fourth is strawe or fethers on a wyndy hyll

A pore mannys dedys may soone be kept close His name is hyd, and right so is his dede. A ryche mannys dede may no man hyde nor glose It fleeth farthest, all men of it take hede So that yll fame whome all men ought to drede In fleynge about hir myght doth multyply Augmentynge to his lynage shame and vylany

Therfore who that intendyth to be wyse Ware and crafty, auoydynge all inconuenyence To shewe his counsell ought nat to interpryse But do his mynde, kepynge alway sylence In seruauntis is small trust or confydence He that is nowe thy frende may after be thy fo Warne nat thy ennemy of that that thou wylt do

THE ENUOY OF BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

O ye that ar put to wronge and Iniury If ye intende for to yelde the same agayne It is great foly to warne your ennemye Or hym to threten with bostynge wordes vayne. For oft is sayde, and true it is certayne That they that wyll lyue in quyetnes and rest Must here and se and hasty wordes refrayne All styll with fewe wordes do that they thynke best

* * * * *

Of folys that can nat beware by the mysfortune and example of others damage.

We dayly se the mysfortune and damage And often fallys, to pouerte and payne Whiche folys suffer for theyr synne and outrage Some drowned, some maymed, some other wyse slayne Yet this example can nat cause vs refrayne Our wretchyd lyfe, and seke for remedy We marke no thynge anothers ieopardy.

We se the mockynge scorne and derysyon That folys hath ofte tyme whan they offende We se theyr losse, theyr shame and theyr confusion Howe be it all this can cause vs to amende We can no thynge and to nought we intende So many folys I fynde that playne I thynke Theyr weyghty charge shall cause my shyp to synke

Suche ar despysyd of men discrete and wyse Ye and more ouer these folys ar so blynde That echone of them the other doth despyse With sharp rebukes, wordes lewde and vnkynde Yet in theyr lyfe no difference may we fynde And though they haue sene a thousande brough to shame For one sore vyce: yet lyue they in the same

The example of other can nat theyr myndes moue Theyr wyttis ar blynde theyr foly is the cause Alas mad folys why do ye vyce thus loue Rennynge ay to deth without all rest or pause Alas, at the last retourne to christis lawes Be ware, whan ye other se taken in the snare Let anothers peryll cause you to be ware

Ye do nat so, alas it is great shame Your synne hath quenchyd your grace and gostly lyght One blynde man another doth chyde and blame And yet both stomble, nat goynge euyn or right A blynde man hym ledyth that also hath no syght So both in the dyche fallyth in suche a wyse That one can nat helpe, the other agayne to ryse

One crab blamys another for hir bacwarde pace And yet the blamer sothly can none other do But both two ar in theyr goynge in lyke case The one goeth bocwarde, the other doth also Many of these folys after that maner go But who that of his moders doctryne hath disdayne: Shall by his stepdame endure wo care and payne

And perchaunce after abyde the correccyon Of the sayde stepdame, in place of punysshement. For his synne, sufferynge hir vniust subieccien And who that nat foloweth the commaundement Of his fader beynge to hym obedyent May fortune after in hunger thyrst ond colde Obey that stranger, whom he nat gladly wolde

We fynde Hystories wryten longe and ample In dyuers bokes of great auctoryte The hole Bybyll sheweth to vs example Howe they were punysshed that lyuyd in cruelte I fynde also wryten in bokes of Poetrye Howe that Pheton was brent with the lyghtnynge For his presumpcion, agaynst a myghty kynge

We haue example also by Icarus Whiche contrary vnto the commaundement Of his crafty father named Dedalus By fleynge to hye his wynges and fethers brent And so descendyd and in the se was drent Thus these two endynge by theyr lewdnes in care By theyr example sholde cause vs to beware

We dayly se before our syght and our presence What mysauenture to many one doth fall And that worthely for theyr synne and offence Yet ar we blynde, and ar nat ware at all But in our synnes lyue vnto them egall And where by synne we se one come to shame We wyllyngly (alas) ensue the same

Therfore who sethe a mad fole come to wo Or fall in peryll for lacke of a good gyde By another way ought craftely to go And (by anothers yll) for his helthe to prouyde The fox was ware, and peryll set asyde And wolde nat enter into the caue, for playne Of bestis that entred sawe he none come agayne

THE ENUOY OF BARKLAY

Lerne man, lerne of bestes to be ware Of others peryll, by theyr enormyte For if one byrde be onys tane in a snare The other auoyde as fast as they may flee A fysshe byrde or beste that hath in peryll be Of net hoke or snare, if that they may escape. Wyll after euer beware, but blynde man wyll nat se His owne destruccion, but after it doth gape

* * * * *

Of them that forceth or careth for the bacbytynge of lewde people.

Who that within this worlde wolde rest and lyue In eas of mynde, peas and tranquyllyte Must nat his mynde set, nor his erys gyue To the vayne talys, of the rude comonte And though some people of suche condicion be Oft to dyffame good people true and Just Let them nought care, for byde it nede they must

Let no man care for the lewde hyssynges And yll soundynges of this vnhappy rage It is great foly to set by the lesynges Of cursyde tunges syns none can them asswage For who in this worlde wyll come to auautage Hym selfe exaltynge to worshyp and honoure Shall fynde the swetnes mengled with the sowre

And he that wyll of his dygnyte be sure Or sympyll lyuynge what so euer it be Right greuous chargis somtymes must endure And with his iyen often beholde and se Suche thynges wherwith his mynde can not agre And he that wyll with the worlde haue to do Must suffer suche trouble as belongeth therto

Yet some haue pytched theyr tentis stedfastly Upon sure grounde, auoyde of all this payne Despysynge the worldes wantonnes and foly For in the same is nought sure nor certayne Nought se we tranquyll in these wawes mundayne We se no loue, lawe, fydelyte, nor trust But nowe up hye, and nowe lowe in the dust

To auoyde the worlde with his foly and stryfe Many hath left londes townes and ryches And yll company lyuynge solytary lyfe Alone in desert and in wyldernes Ye and that: men of moste wyt and worthynes Whiche by that meane dyd best of all eschewe All worldly sclaunder and lyuyd in vertue

He that intendeth to lyue a rightwyse lyfe And so procedeth in maners and good dede Of worldly sclaunder, complaynt, hatered, and stryfe And all yll wyll, he ought nat to take hede For he that is iuste ought no thynge for to drede A sclaundrynge tonge, ye, be it neuer so wode For suche lewde tonges can none hurte that ar gode.

Lyue well and wysely, than let men chat theyr fyll Wordes ar but wynde, and though it oft so fall That of lewde wordes comyth great hurte and yll Yet byde the ende, that onely prouyth all If thou canst suffer truste well that thou shall Ouercome thyne ennemyes better by pacience Than by hye wordes rygour or vyolence

If poetis that somtyme vyce blamyd and discommendyd And holy Prophetis whiche also dyd the same To suche vayne and mortall wordes had intendyd They sholde nat haue durst the peoples vyce to blame So sholde they haue lost their honour and good name Theyr fame and meryt, but nowe they haue nat so But spred theyr fame, whiche neuer away shall go

Forsoth none lyueth within the worlde wyde Suche meke so holy, so wyse or pacyent Whiche can hym selfe at euery tyme so gyde To please eche fole, for none can some content Forsoth he myght be named excellent Happy and blessyd and lyue in welth and eas Whiche euery man cowde serue content and pleas

But suche is none, and he that wyll assay For to content eche folysshe mannes mynde Must brake his slepe and stody nyght and day And yet alway some fole shall be behynde Ye if one lyue well, yet wyll they somwhat fynde Behynde his backe hym to sclaunder and diffame For beggers and bawdes therin haue all theyr game

For whether thou dwell in Est west north or south Of suche dryuels euer shalt thou fynde plente One must haue moche mele, to stoppe eche mannys mouth Sclander is the cunnynge of all the comonte And in the same suche ay moste besy be Whiche lyue them selfe in shame and vylany Euen nowe they speke repentynge by and by

Thus all the cunnynge and stody dilygent. Of people vnthryfty is alway to despyse And diffame other whiche ar but innocent Wherfore let suche as ar discrete and wyse Nought set by them that lesyngys doth deuyse Nor theyr vayne foly: for he that doth certayne Is but, a fole. and euer shall lyue in payne.

THE ENUOY OF BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

Trouble nat thy selfe (thou man) where is no nede And arme thou thy selfe with goodly pacyence Be sure it is great foly to take hede Unto backbytynge syns that no resystence May be founde to withstande his violence And take thou this one thynge for thy comfort That none wyse, or good, wyll commyt this offence But all ar caytyffes, that ar of this lewde sort.

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Of mockers, and scorners, and false accusers.

O Hertles folys, haste here to our doctryne Leue of the wayes of your enormyte Enforce you to my preceptis to enclyne For here shall I shewe you good and veryte Enclyne, and ye fynde shall great prosperyte Ensuynge the doctryne of our faders olde And godly lawes in valour worth great golde

Who that wyll folowe the graces manyfolde Whiche ar in vertue, shall fynde auauncement Wherfore ye folys that in your syn ar bolde Ensue ye wysedome and leue your lewde intent Wysdome is the way of men most excellent Therfore haue done, and shortly spede your pace To quaynt your selfe and company with grace.

Lerne what is vertue, therin is great solace Lerne what is trouth sadnes and prudence Let grutche be gone, and grauyte purchace Forsake your foly and inconuenyence Cesse to be folys, and ay to sue offence Folowe ye vertue, chefe rote of godlynes For it and wysdome is grounde of clenlynes

Wysedome and vertue two thynges ar doutles Whiche man endueth with honour specyall But suche hertis as slepe in folysshnes Knoweth no thynge, and wyll nought knowe at all But in this lytell barge in pryncypall All folysshe mockers I purpos to repreue Clawe he his backe that felyth ytche or greue

Mockers and scorners that ar harde of byleue With a rugh combe here wyll I clawe and grate To proue if they wyll from theyr vyce remeue And leue theyr foly whiche causeth great debate Suche caytyfs spare neyther pore man nor estate And where theyr selfe ar moste worthy of dyrysion Other men to scorne is all theyr moste condicion

Yet ar mo folys of this abusion Whiche of wyse men despyseth the doctryne With mowes, mockes, scorne, and collusyon Rewardynge rebukes, for theyr good disciplyne Shewe to suche wysdome, yet shall they nat enclyne Unto the same, but set no thynge therby But mocke thy doctryne, styll or openly

So in the worlde it apereth comonly That who that wyll a Fole rebuke or blame A mocke or mowe shall he haue by and by Thus in derysyon, haue folys theyr speciall game Correct a wyse man, that wolde eschewe yll name And fayne wolde lerne, and his lewde lyfe amende And to thy wordes he gladly shall intende

If by mysfortune a rightwyse man offende He gladly suffreth a iuste correccion And hym that hym techyth taketh for his frende Hym selfe puttynge mekely vnto subieccion Folowynge his preceptis and good dyreccion But if that one a Fole rebuke or blame He shall his techer, hate, sclaunder, and dyffame

Howbeit his wordes, oft turne to his owne shame And his owne dartis retourne to hym agayne And so is he sore woundyd with the same And in wo endyth, great mysery and payne It also prouyd full often is certayne That they that on mockes alway theyr myndes cast Shall of all other be mocked at the last

He that goeth right, stedfast sure and fast May hym well mocke that goth haltynge and lame And he that is whyte may well his scornes cast Agaynst a man of ynde, but no man ought to blame Anothers vyce whyle he vsyth the same But who that of synne is clene in dede and thought May hym well scorne whose lyuynge is starke nought

The scornes of Naball full dere sholde haue ben bought If Abigayll his wyfe discrete and sage Had nat by kyndnes right crafty meanes sought The wrath of Dauyd to temper and asswage Hath nat two berys in theyr fury and rage Two and fourty Children rent and torne For they the Prophete Helyseus dyd scorne

So myght they curse the tyme that they were borne For theyr mockynge of this Prophete dyuyne So many other of this sorte often mowrne For theyr lewde mockes, and fall in to ruyne Thus is it foly for wyse men to enclyne To this lewde flocke of Folys for se thou shall Them moste scornynge that ar most bad of all

THENUOY OF BARCLY TO THE FOLYS.

Ye mockynge Folys that in scorne set your ioy Proudly dyspysynge goddes punycion Take ye example by Cham the son of Noy Whiche laughyd his Father vnto derysyon Whiche hym, after, cursyd for his transgressyon And made hym seruaunt to all his lyne and stocke So shall ye Caytyfs at the conclusyon Syns ye ar nought, and other scorne and mocke

* * * * *

Of them that dyspyse euerlastynge ioye, and settyth thynges transytory before thynges eternall and euerlastynge.

My hande is wery: fayne wolde I rest a space But folys comyth to my shyp so besely That to haue rest: they wyll graunt me no grace That nede I must theyr lewdnes notefy But to recorde this folysshe company They ar suche that this worlde so greatly loue That they despyse the heuenly Royalme aboue

They often thynke in theyr mynde preuely And by them selfe in this wyse oft they say O glorious lorde raynynge eternally Graunt me thy grace that I may lyue alway To se of this worlde the extreme ende and day This is my wyll and synguler askynge As for thy royalme, forsoth I set no thynge

But yet this fole doth nat desyre this tyme Of so longe lyfe, and yeres alway newe To clens his mynde from all synfull cryme Nor for the loue of goodnes or vertue But rather that he his pleasour may ensue And with his maters and felawes suche as he To folowe ryot, delytys and enormyte.

To lyue in wantonnes and blyndnes lascyuyte In pryde in Lechery andin couetyse Suche sytteth theyr myndes and theyr felycyte Not ferynge hell whiche is rewarde of vyce. Those dredefull dennys, in a right ferefull wyse With fyres flamynge, and manyfolde tourment Can nat suche folys, theyr synnes cause to stent

O sleuthfull fole say why doste nat thou call Unto thy mynde that this worldes wretchydnes Is full of sorowe moche more bytter than gall Uoyde of all ioy, all pleasour and swetnes Why settest thou so moche by frayle delyciousnes On vayne pleasours, whiche shall sothly decay Lyke as the sone meltyth the snowe away

Man note my wordes and gyue to them credence I say that pleasours and also ioyes mundayne As it apereth playne by good euydence Ar fylled with sorowe bytternes and payne Without all rest quyete or certayne And yet alas the worlde so doth men blynde That it they loue and caste heuen out of mynde

Wherfore it hapneth full often as I fynde That suche as foloweth shamefull wantonnes Ungoodly luste, and statelynes of mynde Shall ofte perceyue great shame and wretchydnes And them most suffer, with great mundayne distres. And better charges, and after must nede endure Cruell deth whiche ende is of euery creature

The worlde shall passe: ye and all ioy mundayne Without all doute at last shall haue an ende And euery thynge outher fruytfull or barayne Shall to the grounde outher firste or last discende We se also that none can hym defende From dethes dartis. and for conclusyon. We dayly se many mennys confusyon.

We dayly se the fallys innumerable And greuous deth aswell of youth as age Thus is this wretchyd worlde moche vnstable Wherfore me thynke it is a great outrage To trust therto, or for an vnsure stage Or hye place of welth or worldly honour The presence to despyse of our sauyoure

But without doute the tyme shall come and houre Whan all mankynde shall se hym euydent Some to theyr ioy, some to wo and doloure None shall eskhape that rightwyse iugement. But eche be rewardyd as he his tyme hath spent So they that vertuously haue lyuyd here Despysynge this worlde shall gladly there apere

But they that here haue led theyr lyfe in vyce For to depart ar wo in herte and mynde And ferefull to byde that sentence of iustyce Syns of theyr synne excuse they can none fynde But to conclude forsoth that fole is blynde That for worldly welth, from god wolde hym deuyde And for vayne clay, the hye heuyn set a syde

THE ENUOY OF BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

O blynde man whiche hast thy moste felycyte On worldly thinges, alas make clere thy mynde What fyndest thou here, but great aduersyte Wylt thou for it leue y^t heuenly ioy behynde And where thou myght euerlastynge ryches fynde Where as is helth, endles lyfe and all goodnes Wylt thou forsake it for worldly wretchydnes

Wylt thou heuyn compare with his paynfull lyfe There on to thynke thou art vnwyse certayne There is concorde, here is no thynge but stryfe There is all rest, and here is care and payne There is true loue: here is scorne and disdayne There is all goodnes, here all yll and offence Nowe chuse the best: here is great difference

* * * * *

Of them that make noyses rehersynges of talys and do other thynges vnlaufull and dishonest in y^e chirche of god.

Yet of mo folys fynde I a great nomber Whiche thynke that it is no shame nor vylany Within the chirche, the seruyce to encomber With theyr lewde barkynge roundynge dyn and cry And whyle good people ar praynge stedfastly Theyr herte to good, with meke mynde and deuout Suche folys them let, with theyr mad noyse and shout

And whyle the prestis also them exercyse. In matyns masse sermon or prechynge dyuyne Or other due thynges that longe to theyr seruyce. Techynge the people to vertue to enclyne Than these folys as it were rorynge swyne With theyr gettynge and talys of vycyousnes Trouble all suche seruyce, that is sayd, more and les

In to the churche than comys another sote Without deuocyon gettynge vp and downe Or to be sene, and to showe his gardyd cote Another on his fyst a Sparhauke or fawcon Or els a Cokow, and so wastynge his shone Before the auters he to and fro doth wander With euyn as great deuocyon as a gander

In comys another his houndes at his tayle With lynes and leshes and other lyke baggage. His dogges barkyth, so that withouten fayle The hole churche is troubled by theyr outrage So innocent youth lernyth the same of age And theyr lewde sounde doth the churche fyll. But in this noyse the good people kepe them styll.

One tyme the hawkys bellys Jenglyth hye Another tyme they flutter with theyr wynges And nowe the houndes barkynge strykes the skye Nowe sounde theyr fete, and nowe the chaynes rynges They clap with theyr handes, by suche maner thynges They make of the churche, for theyr hawkes a mewe And Canell to theyr dogges, whiche they shall after rewe

So with suche folys is neyther peas nor rest Unto the holy churche they haue no reuerence But wander about to see who get may best In rybawde wordes pryde and insolence As mad men they fere nat our sauyours presence Hauynge no honour vnto that holy place Wherin is gyuen to man euerlastynge grace

There ar handlyd pledynges and causes of the lawe There ar made bargayns of dyuers maner thynges Byenges and sellynges scant worth a hawe And there ar for lucre contryued false lesynges And whyle the prest his Masse or matyns synges These folys whiche to the Churche do repayre Ar chattynge and bablynge as it were in a fayre

Some gygyll and lawghe and some on maydens stare And some on wyues with wanton countenaunce As for the seruyce they haue small force or care But full delyte them in theyr mysgouernaunce Some with theyr slyppers to and fro doth prance Clappynge with their helys in churche and in quere So that good people can nat the seruyce here

What shall I wryte of maydens and of wyues Of theyr roundynges and vngoodly comonynge Howe one a sclaundre craftely contryues And in the churche therof hath hyr talkynge The other hath therto theyr erys lenynge And than whan they all hath harde forth hir tale With great deuocyon they get them to the ale.

Thus is the churche defylyd with vylany And in stede of prayer and godly oryson Ar vsyd shamefull bargayns and talys of rybawdry Jettynges and mockynges and great derysyon There fewe ar or none of perfyte deuocion And whan our lorde is consecrate in fourme of brede Therby walkes a knaue, his bonet on his hede

And whyle those wordes of consecracion Ar sayde of the preste in goddes owne presence Suche caytyfs kepe talys and communycacion Fast by the auter, thynkynge it none offence And where as the angels ar ther with reuerence Laudynge and worshyppynge our holy sauyour These vnkynde caytyfs wyll scantly hym honour

Alas wherto shall any man complayne For this foly and accostomed furour Syns none of them theyr fautes wyll refrayne But ay procede in this theyr lewde errour And nat withstandynge that Christ our sauyour Hath left vs example, that none sholde mysdo Within the chirche, yet inclyne we nat therto.

Jhonn the euangelyst doth openly expres. Howe criste our sauyour dyd dryue out and expell From the Temple, suche as vsed there falsnes And all other that therin dyd bye and sell Saynge as it after lyeth in the Gospell Unto the Jues rebuke and great repreues That of goddes house they made a den of theues.

Remember this man, for why thou dost the same Defylynge goddes Chirche with synne and vanyte Whiche sothly was ordeyned to halowe goddes name And to lawde and worshyp the holy trynyte With deuout harte, loue, and all benygnyte And with all our myght our lorde to magnyfy And than after all the heuenly company

For this cause hath god the holy chirche ordeyned And nat for rybawde wordes and thynges vayne But by vs chrysten men it is distayned. Moche wors than euer, the Jewes dyd certayne And if our lorde sholde nowe come downe agayne. To dryue out of the churche suche as there do syn Forsoth I thynke, right fewe sholde byde within

THE ENUOY TO THE REDERS.

O man that bostest thy selfe in cristes name Callynge the christen, se thou thy synne refuse Remember well it is both synne and shame The house of god, thus to defyle and abuse But this one thynge causeth me oft to muse That the false paynyms within theyr Temples be To theyr ydols moche more deuout than we

* * * * *

Of them that wyllynge and knowyngly put them self in ieopardy and peryll.

I fynde mo folys yet. whome I shall note Suche ar they whiche pray both day and nyght To god and his sayntes cryeng with open throte O glorious god helpe me by thy great myght That I may clens my herte and clere my syght Wherby all foly and synne may fro me fall But yet this fole it leuyth nat at all

Suche folys oft pray for theyr amendement Unto our lorde with syghynges sore and depe But yet to synne contynually they assent And after the same often complayne and wepe Than say they playne that god hath had no kepe Unto theyr prayer and taken of it no hede But theyr owne foly is cause of theyr lewde dede

They se the peryll before theyr faces playne That god hath ordeyned, for foly and for synne They pray for helpe, and yet ar they full fayne After the folys hode alway to ren And besely laboure the same alone to wyn So vnto god for helpe they cry and call But they them selfe wyll helpe no thynge at all

Than thynke they theyr prayers to god nat acceptable Bycause (anone) they haue nat all theyr wyll And for that god is nat sone agreable To here theyr cry and it graunt and fulfyll These folys in theyr vyce contynue styll And put theyr selfe in wylfull ieopardy And where they myght they fynde no remedy

But these folys vnstabyll as the wynde Prayeth vnto god and to his sayntis aboue Nat knowynge what may content theyr folysshe mynde Nor whether theyr askynge be for theyr behoue But sothly this dare I both say and proue And it auowe after my sympyll skyll That neuer man shall syn without his wyll

If that one with his owne wyll doth fall Into a well to assay the ieopardy Whan he is there. if he lowde crye and call Bothe on god and man for helpe and remedy He sekyth that peryll, and dyeth worthely So were it foly to gyue hym corde or trayne Or other engyne to helpe hym vp agayne

Whan suche folys ar sure vpon the grounde Without all daunger, peryll hurt or fere They lepe in the wel and yet fere to be drowned Empedocles though he right myghty were With suche lyke foly hym selfe so sore dyd dere That knowyngly and with his owne consent Hymself he lost and by fyers fyre was brent

He lept hedelynge into the flamynge fyre Of a brennynge hyll whiche callyd is Ethnay To knowe the trouth, and nature to enquyre Whether that same flame were very fyre or nay So with his deth the trouth he dyd assay But who that wolde hym drawen out of that hyll Had ben a fole, syns it was his owne wyll

For why his mynde was blyndyd so certayne That thoughe a man had hym delyuered than The same peryll wolde he haue proued agayne As mad as he forsoth is euery man That is at eas, and hym nat so holde can And also he that putteth hymselfe in drede Or fere and peryll, where as he hath no nede

So he that prayeth to god that he may get The blysse of heuen, and scape infernall payne He is a fole his herte or mynde to set On frayle ryches, welth and ioy mundayne On stedfast fortune, on lucre or on gayne For certaynly these thynges of worldly welth Oft man deuydeth away from heuenly helth

Thus he that prayeth for welth or for ryches Or in this worlde hym selfe to magnyfy Prayeth for his hurt and cause of viciousnes For worldly welth doth vyce oft multyply So seke men theyr owne peryll wyllyngly But who that prayeth, and can nat as he ought He bloweth in the wynde, and shall nat haue his thought

And who that to honour couetyse to ascende Or to lyue in damnable voluptuosyte He seketh his peryll for if that he descende From welth and worshyp to payne and pouerte It is but worthy, and let hym pacyent be It to endure with mynde demure and meke He is worthy sorowe that wyll it alway seke

THE ENUOY OF BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

Ye that fayne wolde escape all ieopardy Auoyde suche thynges the whiche myght cause the same To proue a peryll, is foly certaynly Whether it be done in ernest or in game They that so doth may theyr owne madnes blame For he that is sure, and to a fray wyll ren May fortune come home agayne, nosles or lame And so were it better for to haue byd within

* * * * *

Of the way of felycyte and godnes, and of the payne to come vnto synners.

God suffreth nat eche vicious fole to knowe The wonders that he made hath on this grounde And dayly worketh. wherfore theyr syn doth growe So that theyr foly them selfe doth confounde And here theyr bodyes to great labours ar bounde Sparynge no peryll for pleasour and for gayne Than after deth haue they euerlastynge payne

So he that here lyueth in vyce and synne Shall extreme dolour after deth endure Than what auantage is it for man to wyne All orthly tresour, and of hell payne be sure But without dowt that wretchyd creature Whiche goddes lawes wyll nat here holde and kepe Shall after deth haue cause to wayle and wepe

And suche as here wyll nat knowe theyr sauyour Obseruynge his preceptis and commaundement Whiche god hathe ordeyned to saue vs from erroure And vs commaundyd to kepe with clene intent Ouer all the worlde. as rule moste excellent To lyue godly. and who so euer he be That foloweth in this worlde voluptuosyte

Or carnall lust ryot or other offence Wastynge his tyme in syn and viciousnes All suche in this worlde, by theyr blynde negligence Drawe styll the cart of greuous besynes. With payne and charge and, whan this wretchydnes Is past and gone, yet after this they shall In hell endure great tourmentis eternall

There shalt (thou fole) the charet drawe alway With dowble paynes both tedyous and cruell Wherfore thou fole retourne the I the pray. Seke nat the way whiche ledeth vnto hell With his foule dennes, more darke than tunge can tell And thoughe the way be esy streyght and playne The ende is nought, I aduyse the tourne agayne

The way to hell is greatly occupyed The path is playne, and easy to ouergo The dore ay open no entre is denyed To suche as purpose in mynde to come therto But at the ende therof is care and wo With syghtis odyous and abhomynable Yet in the way ar folkes innumerable

Thus is no meruayle though this way be playne And greatly worne syns it is hantyd so By dyuers folys whiche haste them to that payne. By way contynuall therto: but none therfro The dredefull dore to them that wyll in go Both day and nyght is open, it doth forsake No folys that wyll theyr iourney thyther take

But that way that to hye heuen doth lye Is way of grace plesour, and all felycyte In it suche walke as here lyue vertuously And blessyd men, but nat suche as vyciouse be Yet is it narowe, and full of difficulte There is many a harde flynt brere and thorne And no meruayle for it is nat greatly worne

For why lewde people, whiche is the gretest sort Forsake this way for the payne and hardnes But godly men therin haue chefe consort With all that lyue by grace in ryghtwysnes Suche well consyder that heuyns blessydnes Can nat be gotten by pleasour rest nor eas Wherfore this way can nat suche synners pleas

God so hath ordeyned that who wyll haue vertue Must it obtayne with payne and dilygence And great labour, whiche many nowe eschewe Without it be to seke synne and offence Fewe seke the way to christis hye presence Therby it hapneth that many a thousande Fast rennyth leftwarde, but fewe on the right hande

THE ENUOY OF BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

Alas man remembre heuens blyssednes And though the way be harde that lyeth therto Forsoke it nat for all that great sharpnes For at the ende is lyfe and rest also Euerlastynge glory with other ioyes mo But who that taketh the other way certayne Shall fynde at the ende eternall payne and wo Thoughe the way thether be easy streyght and playne

* * * * *

Of the yll example of elders gyuyn vnto youth.

Ye aged men rotyd in folysshnes And folysshe parentis lewde of your langage Vnto our shyp swyftly your selfe addres Syns ye be worthy therin to haue a stage Nowe cast I repreues agaynst your outrage Whiche boldly bost you of your vnthryfty lyues Before your maydes, your doughters and your wyues

Alas the folys of this mad company By theyr example cause great inconuenyence Before theyr children recountynge rybaudry Of suche as they haue had experyence. So gyue they to them example of offence And in that synne wheron they bost and vant They make them perfyte whiche erst were ignorant

Theyr wordes ar voyde of shame and honestye Theyr lyfe is without mesure and reuerence But yet they thynke that they moste worthy be That moste can tell of this greuous offence Thus all the youth that is in theyr presence Or that doth here theyr vyce and rybawdry Vnto the same with theyr full mynde aply

Thus theyr yonge children maners lernyth none The wyfe hath occasyon to breke hir chastyte So is the lyfe defyled of them echone And to be playne, we often tymes se That of what maners the folysshe husbondes be Such ar theyr wyues, children and housholde The yonge Cok lerneth to crowe hye of the olde

A folysshe Father, full hardly shall ensyne His sone to good lyfe or to good gouernaunce For if the father to foly doth enclyne The sone wyll folowe his father in that daunce And if the father vse hasarde or the chaunce Or any prohybyt and vnlawfull game Most comonly the sone wyll do the same

If that the husbonde be vycious of his lyfe Wastfull or dronken, or vyle in his langage His sonnes doughters, his seruauntes and his wyfe Wyll lerne of hym to passe the same passage And if the husbonde breke his maryage If the wyfe knowe, in mynde she wyll be wroth Without he haue a hode of the same cloth

An olde prouerbe hath longe agone be sayde That oft the sone in maners lyke wyll be Vnto the Father, and in lyke wyse the mayde Or doughter, vnto the mother wyll agre So if the elders vse enormyte And before theyr children bost them of the same The sone and doughter shall folowe syre and dame

The monkes thynke it lawfull for to play Whan that the Abbot bryngeth them the dyce Right so the Father, can nought or lytell say Agaynst the sone, nor hym blame or chastyce If he hym selfe be taken in that same vyce Thus lyues the Father in synne withouten shame And after his deth the sone shall do the same

O wretchyd maners o tyme full of furour And full of foly without all hope to stent Howe longe shall god our lorde and sauyour This synne suffer without greuous punysshement Alas it nowe apereth euydent That the fathers foly synne and great outrage Is left to the sonne as it were herytage

And no meruayle, for it hath neuer ben seen That of a wolfe a shepe hath be forth brought Or that a calfe or lambe gendred hath been Of a fell tygre: right so if it were sought Ouer all the worlde. a Father that is nought Sholde scant be founde, whiche coude brynge vp his childe With his synne in no maner poynt defylyd

The yonge crab bacwarde doth crepe or go As doth the olde, none can hir cours redres These yonge children for the moste part also Foloweth theyr fathers synne and his lewdnes But they that lyue in maners of mekenes In honest lyfe, goodnes grace and chastyte May brynge forth children of maners as they be

I rede howe the Phylosopher Diogenes Sayde by a childe whiche dronken was with wyne That his Father was in that case doutles Whan he it gate, so his hye wyt dyuyne Knewe that the childes maners dyd inclyne Vnto his Fathers, and so was it founde trewe By them whiche well that childes fader knewe

But though the Father and mother also be nought Without dout this one thynge apereth playne That the childe is suche as it is vp brought And nat lyghtly chaungyd without great charge or payne Therfore let euery man hym selfe refrayne Within his hous from all thynge worthy blame Than shall his children and seruautes do the same

THE ENUOY OF BARKLAY.

Ye that haue children or other great housholde Subdued to your seruyce, and your obedyence Kepe vertuous lyfe, for that is worth great golde And great example to youth to auoyde offence But if ye boost you of synne and neglygence In rybawde wordes, gyue credence to this clause If the herers fall into incouenyence Your lewde example is the chefe grounde and cause

* * * * *

Of bodely pleasour or corporall voluptuosyte

Drawe nere ye folys to you I crye and call Whiche ar of grace clene destytute and bare Folowynge your lust and pleasour corporall But for your soule ye take no thought ne care To whome may I this shamefull lust compare Saue to a harlat faynynge, fals and couetous. Of whome comyth shame and bytes venemous

She syttyth in the strete as past both shame and fere Hir brestes bare to tempt them that passe by Hir face anoyntyd blasynge abrode hir here Or els on hir folysshe front enlaced hye Hir smocke to garnysshyd so hir dysceytfull iye To shamfull lust a thousande doth attyce Of youth whiche erst perchuance knewe nought of vyce

Hir chamber full of flatery and disceyte Anone is opened the blynde fole entreth in The hoke of deth is hyd vnder the bayte Of folysshe lust pleasour and mortall syn Hir soule she sellyth ryches therby to wyne And what riches: a rewarde sothly full vyle The soules damneth and bodyes doth defyle

The one departyth, another comys in agayne Without all shame dare she them boldly pray To hir fals pleasours, Thus by hir gyle and trayne This folysshe youth to hir wyll nat denay But vnto hir some lepe both nyght and day Without mesure, rennynge to lese theyr lyfe As ox or shepe vnto the bochers knyfe

The symple lambe his necke doth out extende Vnto the Bocher his mortall ennemy So doth these folys, sekynge a shamefull ende And theyr owne deth, though they myght fynde remedy O blynde fole I requyre the to aply Vnto my wordes and thou shalt here and se. Howe moche thou oughtest this folysshe lust to fle

The soule it damneth, and drowneth depe in hell The wyt it wastyth, and confoundeth the mynde It causeth man his londe and good to sell And if that he none other mene can fynde To rob and stele he oft tyme is inclyned Besyde all these this fowle lust is so vyle That with fowle sauour it shall thy body fele

Thoughe of lewde lust the ioy be short and small And thoughe the pleasour therof be soon ouer past The payne that foloweth it, is eternall With wofull dolour menglyd, that euer shall last Therfore leue of: do nat thy pleasour cast On worldly welth, delyte ioy and pleasour For soon they pas and chaunge at euery hour

Who that in this wretchyd worlde wyll auoyde Of voluptuousnes the ioyes frayle and vayne And suffre nat hym with them to be acloyde Infect or drownyd, shall for the same certayne Euerlastynge lyfe, and endles ioy obtayne And for his hye tryumphe and dyuyne prudence Haue the fruycyon of goddes hye presence

But who that wyll his carnall lust ensue Shall here haue shame, and after payne cruell I coude hereof dyuers examples shewe But of right many this one I shall you tell One Sardanapalus all other dyd excell. In carnall lust and so his mynde dyd cast On loue prohybyte, that grace was fro hym past

The loue of vertue was full out of his mynde So he concludyd to sue dilyciousnes Thynkynge after deth no welth nor ioy to fynde For this is the sentence of the prynce of derknes But good almyghty seynge his vycyousnes His body and soule deuydyd soon in twayne From worldly pleasour vnto infernall payne

By this hystory to vs it apereth playne That from worldly pleasour and voluptuosyte With all our myght we ought vs to refrayne For thoughe the first of them delycious be Theyr ende is poyson, and of sournes plente Sue wyse men vertue, and set suche lust asyde For they ar folys that in it lyue and byde

THE ENUOY OF BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

Amende mad men your blynde mysgouernaunce Subdue nat your necke to the captyuyte Of flysshely lust and corporall pleasaunce Nor to blynde Venus with hir lasciuyte (If ye it note) ye dayly here and se The mysfortune of them that it ensue And certaynly no man can saued be By carnall lust, but by godly vertue

* * * * *

Of folys that can nat kepe secrete theyr owne counsell.

He is a naturall fole and vndiscrete And to hym selfe ingendryth oft great stryfe Whiche can nat hyde his counsell and secrete But by his foly it sheweth to his wyfe And all that he hath done in his hole lyfe Or that to do here after he doth purpose To euery man suche a fole wyll disclose

The noble Sampson moste excellent of myght And strongest man that euer was get or borne Were nat this foly: sholde nat haue lost his syght Nor had his here, by gyle from his hede ofshorne And of his ennemyes ben laughyd vnto scorne And at the last with herte wrethfull and wo His ennemyes murdred and hym selfe also

Where as he myght haue lyued in honour If he had kept his secretes in his mynde With his owne wyll he dyed in great dolour. By the fals treason of his lemman vnkynde We may in dyuers mo examples fynde Howe many thousandes haue suffred paynes smart And all for shewynge the secretes of theyr hart

Amphiaraus a Prynce moste excellent Shortened the dayes of his pore doutfull lyfe For shewynge the preuetees of his intent By his owne foly to his disceytfull wyfe And thoughe he longe escaped had the stryfe And war of Thebes whiche he dyd longe defende Yet at the leest his tunge was his owne ende

Thus olde storyes doth oft recorde and tell By theyr examples whiche they vnto vs gyue That wymen ar no kepars of councell It goeth through them as water trough a syue Wherfore let them that quyetly wolde lyue No more of theyr counsell to any woman showe Than that they wolde that euery man dyd knowe

Let euery man that is discrete and sage Of suche folys with all wysdome be ware Whiche shewe theyr counsell by theyr hasty langage. To euery man without all thought and care For they of wysdome and reason ar but bare And who that his owne secrete wyll forth tell Howe sholde he hyde another mannes counsell

Yet other be whiche by theyr flaterynge trayne Labour to knowe euery mannys pryuete And by and by to shewe it forth agayne Of them be ware for they disceyfull be. Some other bost them of theyr felycyte Bablynge that they haue theyr wyll in euery thynge As prosperous welth loue, ryches and cunnynge

And of great dedes done both on see and londe Some by theyr falshode, some by strength and vertue But if one laboured the trouth to vnderstonde Suche folysshe wordes sholde all be founde vntrewe Let neuer man to suche his counsell shewe For of one worde these folys makyth twayne Whiche tourneth many to losse rebuke and payne

Wherfore if thou wylt that thy pryuete Be kept secrete and nat come out at large Be nat so folysshe to showe it unto me Or any other if it be thynge of charge And if thou do thou shalt be in this barge For howe wylt thou thynke that another man Can kepe thy counsell syns thou thy selfe ne can

If the kynge Achab had nat vttred and tolde Vnto his wyfe his wyll and mynde so playne By hir fals treason, and dysceyt manyfolde Vnrightwysly Nabot had nat ben slayne But for the same, Achab suffred great payne By deth in batayle, and for a punysshment His wyfe with houndes was all to torne and rent

Thus it apereth that he is wyse and ware Whiche can his counsell kepe within his hart For by that mean may he escape great care And suerly lyue without yll wyllys dart The Prophete seynge what dyuers paynes smart Comyth oft to them whiche doth theyr secret tell Eche man exortyth to kepe close his counsell.

THE ENUOY OF BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

Thou man that hast thy secret in thy brest Holde it styll there suffer it nat out to go Who that so doth, therby shall fynde great rest Ne to thy frende shewe nat thy mynde also For if that he after become thy fo As often hapneth, than myght he the bewry So sholde thy foly tourne vnto thy great wo Howe be it suche thynges are prouyd comonly.

* * * * *

Of yonge folys that take olde wymen to theyr wyues, for theyr ryches.

Under the Asse tayle thoughe it be no thynge pure Yet many seke and grope for the vyle fatnes Gatherynge togyther the fowle dunge and ordure Suche ar they that for treasour and ryches Whyle they ar yonge in theyr chefe lustynes An agyd woman taketh to theyr wyfe Lesynge theyr youth, and shortynge so theyr lyfe

They that so do hath neyther rest nor peas But besy brawlynge and stryfe contynuall They have no pleasour, but thought and great dyseas Rebuke out braydynge, and strypes whan they fall But theyr owne foly is grounde and cause of all For they be maryd unto the vyle treasour And precious bagges, but nat for godly pleasour

They haue no hope of children nor lynage Loue is there none, and durynge theyr wretchyd lyfe Is nat one day in suche mad maryage Auoyde of brawlynge, of hatered and of stryfe But that pore man that weddeth a ryche wyfe Cast in his nose shall styll hir bagges fynde For whose cause he made was made and blynde

They that ar weddyd nat for loue but rychesse Of moryage despysynge the pleasour and profyte Suche seldome sauour fortunes happynes But oft mysfortune them greuously doth byte Thus gone is theyr pleasour theyr ioy and delyte And for vayne treasoure suche ar so glad and fayne That for the same they them subdue to payne

They wyllyngly to payne them selfe subdue The whiche ar weddyd for wretchyd couetyse They take no hede to maners and vertue To honeste nor wysdome but lyue ay in malyce For if a woman be fowle and full of vice And lewde of maners, nought both to man and lad Yet good shall hir mary be she neuer so bad

If that a man of hye or lowe degre Wolde spouse his doughter vnto a strange man He nought inquyreth of his honestye Of his behauour, nor if he norture can But if he be ryche in londes and good: than He shall be prayed his doughter for to haue Thoughe be but a bonde man or a knaue

The firste enquyrynge and speciall questyon Is of the money, that thynge namely they moue And last of all aske they the condicion So whan they mete they neuer haue perfyte loue Wherfore it were better to suche for theyr behoue To byde alone in deserte and wyldernes Than in wedloke in payne for frayle ryches

Forsoth it is an vnmete maryage And disagreynge and moche agaynst the lawe Bytwene fresshe youth, and lame vnlusty age The loue bytwene them is scantly worth a strawe So doth the one styll on the other gnawe And oft the man in mynde doth sore complayne. His sede to sowe vpon a grounde barayne

Than muste he haue another prymme or twayne With them to slake his wanton yonge cowrage But in that space must he endure great payne With hir that he hath tane in maryage Hir bablynge tunge whiche no man can asswage With wrathfull wordes shall sle hym at the laste His other prymes his good shall spende and waste

Thus who that selleth his youthes lustynes For frayle ryches and this mundayne vanyte He byeth stryfe, gyle and falshode endlesse Suche force nat for fayth true loue nor honestye And thoughe that he discende of hye degre For hope of money he shall an olde fole wed By whose foly he to euery yll is led.

And so these folys subdue them to bondage And worthely endure suche payne and punysshement They hope therby to come to auantage But that they lese and lyue in sore tourment They wast theyr good, and so whan that is spent And nought remayneth theyr bodyes to relefe Theyr disputacion is nought but hore and thefe

But if I sholde wryte all the vnhappynes The wrath discorde and the great deuysyon Wherin they lyue, that mary for ryches And nat for loue. I neuer sholde haue done Wherfore this say I for a conclusyon That he shall neuer thryue ne come to his behoue That weddyth a wyfe for gode and nat for loue

THE ENUOY OF BARKLAY.

Alas man myndles what is thyne intent To wed for ryches, that weddynge I defy Maryage was ordeyned by god omnypotent In goddes lawes the worlde to multyply Wherfore that man that wyll therto aply And wolde haue the profyte of faythfull maryage This worldly ryches ought no thynge to set by But wed for loue and hope to haue lynage

Remember ryches is no thynge comparable To mekenes vertue and discrete gouernaunce And other maners whiche ar more commendable Than worldly treasour or suche vnsure substaunce Wherfore consyder and call to thy remembraunce That better is to haue some woman pore and bare And lyue in eas: Than one with habundaunce Of great ryches: and euer to lyue in care

* * * * *

Of enuyous Folys.

Wastynge enuy oft styreth to malyce Folys nat a fewe whiche ar therto enclynyd Pryckynge theyr frowarde hertes vnto vyce Of others damage reioysynge in theyr mynde Enuyes darte doth his begynnynge fynde In wrathfull hertes, it wastyth his owne nest Nat suffrynge other to lyue in eas and rest

If one haue plenty of treasour and ryches Or by his merytis obteyne great dignyte These folys enuyous that of the same haue les Enuy by malyce, the others hye degre And if another of honour haue plente They it enuy and wysshe that they myght sterue Howe be it suche folys can nat the same deserue

These folys desyre agaynst both lawe and right Anoters good if they may get the same If they may nat by flaterynge nor by myght Than by fals malyce they hym enuy and blame Outher if one by his vertue hath good name By fals enuy these foles hym reproue Their wrath them blyndeth so that they none can loue

The wounde of this malycious, fals enuy So dedely is, and of so great cruelte That it is incurable and voyde of remedy A man enuyous hath suche a properte That if he purpose of one vengyd to be Or do some mysche, whiche he reputyth best Tyll it be done, he neuer hath eas nor rest

No slepe, no rest nor pleasour can they fynde To them so swete, pleasaunt and delectable That may expell this malyce from theyr mynde So is enuy a vyce abhomynable And vnto helth so frowarde and damnable That if it onys be rotyd in a man It maketh hym lene. his colour pale and wan.

Enuy is pale of loke and countenaunce His body lene of colour pale and blewe His loke frowarde, his face without pleasaunce Pyllynge lyke scalys, his wordes ay vntrue His iyen sparklynge with fyre ay fresshe and newe It neuer lokyth on man with iyen full But euer his herte by furious wrath is dull

Thou mayst example fynde of this enuy By Joseph whome his bretherne dyd neuer beholde With louynge loke, but sharpe and cruelly So that they hym haue murdred gladly wolde I myght recount examples manyfolde Howe many by enuy lost hath theyr degre But that I leue bycause of breuyte

Enuyous folys ar stuffed with yll wyll In them no myrth nor solace can be founde They neuer laughe but if it be for yll As for gode lost or whan some shyp is drounde Or whan some hous is brent vnto the grounde But whyle these folys on other byte and gnawe Theyr enuy wastyth theyr owne herte and theyr mawe

The mount of Ethnay though it brent euer styll Yet (saue itselfe) it brenneth none other thynge So these enuyous Folys by theyr yll wyll Wast theyr owne herte, thoughe they be ay musynge Another man to shame and losse or hurt to brynge Upon them sellfe Thus tournyth this yll agayne To theyr destruccion both shame great losse and payne

This fals enuy by his malycious yre Doth often, bretherne so cursedly inflame That by the same the one of them conspyre Agaynst the other without all fere and shame As Romulus and Remus excellent of fame Whiche byldyd Rome, but after: enuy so grewe Bytwene them that the one the other slewe

What shall I wryte of Cayme and of Abell Howe Cayme for murder suffred great payne and wo Atreus story and Theseus cruell. Ar vnto vs example hereof also Ethyocles with his brother: and many mo Lyke as the storyes declareth openly The one the other murdred by enuy

THE ENUOY OF BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

Wherfore let hym that is discrete and wyse This wrathfull vyce exyle out of his mynde And yll on none by malyce to surmyse Let charyte in perfyte loue the bynde Sue hir preceptis than shalt thou consort fynde Loue in this lyfe, and ioy whan thou art past Where as enuy thy conscyence shall blynde And both they blode and body mar and wast

* * * * *

Of impacient Folys that wyll nat abyde correccion.

The grettest synners that man may se or fynde In myserable Folys theyr foly to expres Is whan they wyll by no mean gyue theyr mynde To frendly wordes, to grace or to goodnes Suche folys so set theyr mynde on frowardnes That though one gyue them counsell sad and wyse They it disdayne and vtterly despyse

But he that is discrete sad and prudent Aplyeth his mynde right gladly to doctryne He hereth wyse men, his wysdome to augment He them doth folowe and to theyr wordes enclyne But that fole whiche ay goeth to ruyne. And mortall myschefe had leuer be dede or slayne Than byde correccyon or for his profyte payne

Suche haue suche pleasour in theyr mad folysshe pype That they dispyse all other melody. They leuer wolde dye folys than: byde a strype For theyr correccyon and specyall remedy And without dout none other Armony To suche folys is halfe so delectable As is their folysshe bagpype and theyr babyll

These frantyke folys wyll byde no punysshement Nor smale correccion, for theyr synne and offence No frendly warnynge can chaunge theyr yll intent For to abyde it, they haue no pacyence. They here no wysdome but fle from hir presence And so it hapnyth that in the worlde be Mo folys than men of wyt and grauyte

O mortall fole remember well what thou art Thou art a man of erth made and of clay Thy dayes ar short and nede thou must depart Out of this lyfe, that canst thou nat denay Yet hast thou reason and wyt wherby thou may Thy selfe here gyde by wysdome ferme and stable Wherby thou passest all bestis vnreasonable

Thou art made lorde of euery creature All thynge erthly vnto thyne obedyence God hath the creat vnto his owne fygure Lo is nat here a great preemynence God hath also gyuyn vnto the intellygence And reason and wyt all foly to refuse. Than art thou a fole that reason to abuse

He that is fre outher in subieccion. If by his foly he fall into offence And than submyt hym vnto correccyon. All men shall laude his great obedyence But if that one by pryde and insolence Supporte his faute and so bere out his vyce The hell tourmentis hym after shall chastyce

Correccyon shall the vnto wysdome brynge Whiche is more precious than all erthly ryches Than londes rentis or any other thynge Why dost thou bost the of byrth or noblenes Of ryches, strength beauty or fayrnes These often ar cause of inconuenyence. Where as all good comyth by wysdome and prudence

A wyse man onely as we often fynde Is to be named moste ryche and of most myght Here thou his wordes and plant them in thy mynde And folowe the same for they ar sure and right. Better is to endure, thoughe it be nat lyght To suffer a wyse man the sharply to repreue Than a flaterynge fole to clawe the by the sleue

Thoughe sharpe correccyon at the first the greue Thou shalt the ende therof fynde profytable It oft apereth, therfore I it byleue That man also forsoth is fortunable Whiche here in fere lyueth sure and stable And in this lyfe is clene of his intent Ferynge the sharpe payne of hellys punysshement

He may hym selfe right happy call also Whiche is correct in his first tender age And so lernyth in goodes law to go And in his yocke, whiche doth all yll asswage But these folys bydynge in theyr outrage Whiche of correccyon in this lyfe hath dysdayne May fere to be correct in hell with endles payne

THE ENUOY OF BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

Ye obstynate folys that often fall in vyce Howe longe shall ye kepe this frowarde ignoraunce Submyt your myndes, and so from synne aryse Let mekenes slake your mad mysgouernaunce Remember that worldly payne it greuaunce To be compared to hell whiche hath no pere There is styll payne, this is a short penaunce Wherfore correct thy selfe whyle thou art here.

* * * * *

Of folysshe Fesycyans and vnlerned that onely folowe paractyke knowynge nought of the speculacyon of theyr faculte.

Yet be mo folys vpon the grounde and londe Whiche in our Shyp may clayme a rowme and place Suche be Phesycians that no thynge vnderstonde Wandrynge about in euery towne and place Uysytynge the seke whiche lyue in heuy case But nought they relefe of those paynes harde But gape alway after some great rewarde

Suche that haue practyse and nought of speculatyfe Whan they go vysyte some paynfull pacyent Whan they hym note sure to forgo his lyfe Without all hope of any amendement Yet say they other than is in theyr intent That his diseas is no thynge incurable So that the pacyent to hym be agreable

Sayth the Phesycyan whan he hath his rewarde Abyde a whyle tyll I my bokes ouer se Wherby I may relyue thy paynes harde Than from the pacyent homewarde departyth he To se his bokes but if the pacyent dye In that meane space the medycyne is to late So may he lay it to his owne folysshe pate

The speculacion sholde he before haue sene For that in Phesyke is chefe and pryncypall, Yet many ar that vse the craft I wene Whiche of the cunnynge knowe lytell or nought at all A herbe or wede that groweth vpon a wall Beryth in it these folys medycyne. None other bokes haue they nor doctryne

Nor none they rede to haue the true scyence Or perfyte knowlege and grounde of medycyne They rede no volumes of the experyence Of Podalirius nor Mesues doctryne Suche folys disdayne theyr myndes to enclyne Unto the doctryne of bokes of Auycen Of ypocras and parfyte galyen

But all the substance of theyr blynde faculte They take in bokes that speke of herbes only Without respect had to theyr properte Or operacion so often they them aply To fals doctrynes, but first and specyally These olde wyues therwith wyll haue to do Thoughe they nought knowe that doth belonge therto

They dare be bolde to take on them the cure Of them diseasyd howe be it that they nat can Suche thynge descerne as longyth to nature What is for woman good, and what for man So oft they ende moche wors than they began That the pore pacyent is so brought to his graue Yet dyuers suters suche folysshe wytches haue

Suche wytches boldly dare afferme and say That with one herbe they hele can euery sore Under euery syne plenete, houre and day Yet besyde this they boldly dare say more That it that helyth a man aged and hore Shall helpe also a woman or a childe Thus many thousandes oft ar by them begyled

They say also in this our charge or cure What nedes it note the synes or fyrmament The cause of thynges, or the strength of nature Whether that the seke be stronge or impotent They gyue one medesyn to euery pacyent And if it fortune it be to colde or warme The faythles wytche in hande goth with hir scharme

Say folysshe Surgyan by what experyence Or whose Doctryne discyplyne or lore Takest thou on the, nought knowynge of scyence With one Salue or plaster, to heale euery sore Yet so thou thynkest, I the compare therfore Unto a lawyer that of his craft nought can And yet presumeth to counsell euery man

A lawer and a Phesician ar both lyke Of theyr condicion and both insue one trayne The one begylyth the pacyent and seke Takynge his god for to encreas his payne The other labours and cauteles oft doth fayne To clawe the coyne by craft from his clyent Castynge hym of whan all his good is spent

Thus thryues the lawer by anothers good Iniustly gotten, disceyuynge his clyent Also some other ar callyd Phesicians good Whiche vtterly disceyue the pacyent If he haue money than hath he his intent And if the seke haue store ynough to pay Than shall the cure be dryuen from day to day

So if the lawer may any auauntage wyn He shall the cause from terme to terme defarre The playntyf for a player is holde in. With the defendaunt kepynge open warre So laweyers and Phesicians thousandes do marre And whan they no more can of theyr suers haue The playntyf beggyth, the seke is borne to graue

But of these lawyers bycause I spoke before Of folysshe Phesicians here onely I intende. Somwhat to say: And of lawers no more On you Phesicians shall I conclude and ende I say no man may hym so well defende That he for murder may auoyde punysshement Yet may Phesicians, sleynge the pacient

Thus thou that of Phesycian hast the name If thou nought knowe of perfyte medycyne It is forsoth to thy rebuke and shame To boste the scyence: nat hauynge the doctryne Therfore I counsell that thou thy mynde inclyne To haue the cunnynge, els certaynly thou shall Haue thy blynde craft and lyue a fole with all.

THE ENUOY OF THE TRASLATOUR.

Thou blynde Phesician that of thy craft nought can Leue of thy lewdnes and bolde audacyte To take on the: the cure of chylde or man For by thy foly the wors myght they be And ye that suerly perceyue your faculte Be true therin, and auaryce from you cast Shame is to brynge a man to pouertye And than in paynes to leue hym at the last

* * * * *

Of the ende of worldly honour and power and of Folys that trust therein.

O creatures of myndes mad and blynde I wonder of your hertis proude and eleuate Whiche on vayne power set so sore your mynde And trust so moche to your vnsure estate As of your lyfe were neyther yere nor date To worldly worshyp ye stedfastly intende As if your lyfe sholde neuer more come to ende

Alway ye labour to come to dignyte And oft by falshode your power to augment Alas fewe ar content with theyr degre But by extorcion spoyle the pore innocent On worldly treasour so set is theyr intent And styll to honour as besely to ascende As if theyr lyfe sholde neuer more come to ende

Take thou example by Julius cesar That of the worlde durynge a whyle was sure And many kynges subduyd by myght of warre And of the Empyre had lordshyp charge cure But this his myght great space dyd nat endure And whyle he trustyd yet hyer to ascende By cruell deth he soon came to his ende

Right in lyke wyse the myghty Darius Was kynge of Persy a realme moche excellent Yet was his mynde so greatly couetus That with the same helde he hym nat content But warred on other Royalmes adiacent So whan his myght coude nat therto extende His owne Royalme he loste and so came to his ende

And also Xerxes in ryches abundant Was longe in peas and great tranquyllyte And in his Royalme was hye and tryumphant As longe as he was content with his degre Than had he pleasour and great felycyte. To assay by warre his kyngdome to amende But all he lost and so came to his ende

Whyle Nabugodonosor kynge of Babylone In vnsure fortune set to great confydence Commaundynge honour vnto hym to be done As vnto god: with all humble reuerence, God by his power and hye magnyfycence Made hym a beste, for that he dyd offende And so in proces of tyme came to his ende

Alexander the great and myghty conquerour To whome all the worlde scantly myght suffyse Of Grece was the origynall lorde and Emperour And all the worlde subdued as I surmyse Yet hath he done as is the comon gyse Left all behynde, for nought coude hym defende But as a symple man at the last came to his ende

The myghty Cresus with his kyngdomes and store Of golde and ryches hym selfe coude nat content But whyle he trustyd and laboured for more Fortune hym fayled: So lost he his intent. What shall I wryte of Cyrus excellent Drynkynge his blode by deth whiche fortune sende To here of states the comon deth and ende

All kyngdomes dekay and all estate mundayne Example of Rome Cartago and Mycene Of Solyme Tyre grace and Troy moste souerayne None of these places ar nowe as they haue ben Nor none other ouer the worlde as I wene Thus shortly to speke and all to comprehende All worldly thynges at last shall haue an ende.

THE ENOUY OF BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

O man that hast thy trust and confydence Fyxed on these frayle fantasyes mundayne Remember at the ende there is no difference Bytwene that man that lyued hath in payne And hym that hath in welth and ioy souerayne They both must dye their payne is of one sort Both ryche and pore, no man can deth refrayne For dethes dart expellyth all confort

Say where is Adam the fyrst progenytour Of all mankynde is he nat dede and gone And where is Abell of innocence the flour With adamys other sonnes euerychone A: dredfull deth of them hath left nat one Where is Mathusalem, and Tuball that was playne The first that played on Harpe or on Orgone _Ilz sont tous mortz ce monde est choce vayne_

Where is iust Noy and his ofsprynge become Where is Abraham and all his progeny As Isaac and Jacob, no strength nor wysdome Coude them ensure to lyue contynually Where is kynge Dauyd whome god dyd magnyfy And Salomon his son of wysdome souerayne Where ar his sonnes of wysdome and beauty _Ilz sont toutz mortz ce monde est choce vayne._

Where ar the prynces and kynges of Babylon And also of Jude and kynges of Israell Where is the myghty and valiant Sampson He had no place in this lyfe ay to dwell Where ar the Prynces myghty and cruell That rayned before Christ delyuered vs from payne And from the Dongeons of darke and ferefull hell _Ilz sont toutz mortz ce monde est choce vayne._

Of worldly worsyp no man can hym assure In this our age whiche is the last of all No creature can here alway endure Yonge nor olde, pore man nor kynge royall Unstable fortune tourneth as doth a ball And they that ones pas can nat retourne agayne Wherfore I boldly dare speke in generall We all shall dye: _ce monde est choce vayne_.

Ryches nor wysdome can none therfro defende Ne in his strength no man can hym assure Say where is Tully is he nat come to ende Seneke the sage with Cato and Arture The hye Arystotyll of godly wyt and pure The glorious Godfray, and myghty Charlemayne Thoughe of theyr lyfe they thought that they were sure Yet ar they all dede: _ce monde est choce vayne_.

Where ar the Phylosophers and Poetis lawreat The great Grammaryens and pleasant oratours. Ar they nat dede after the same fourme and rate As ar all these other myghty conquerours Where ar theyr Royalmes theyr ryches and treasours Left to theyr heyres: and they be gone certayne And here haue left theyr riches and honours So haue they proued that this worlde is but vayne.

So I conclude bycause of breuyte That if one sought the worlde large and wyde Therin sholde be founde no maner of dere That can alway in one case suerly byde Strength, honour, riches cunnynge and beautye All these decay, dayly: thoughe we complayne _Omnia fert etas_, both helth and iolyte We all shall dye: _ce monde est choce vayne_.

* * * * *

Of predestynacion.

It is vnlawfull, man to be dilygent Or serchynge goddes workes to set his thought Howe he hath made the heuen and fyrmament The erth the see and euery thynge of nought Yet of some Folys the cause hereof is sought, Whiche labour also with curyosyte To knowe the begynnynge of his dyuynyte

These folys forgettynge their owne fragilyte Wolde loke to knowe the ende of euery thynge Boldly disputynge in goddys pryuete And what rewarde is ordeynyd for men lyuynge Of many folys this is the moste musynge Whiche labour dayly with besy cure and payne. To knowe what god doth discerne and or ordayne

Therfore in this part I shall dispyse and blame Unchrafty folys whiche scantly haue ouer sene Ought of scripture, if they knowe the bokes name Or els a whyle hath at the Scoles bene Than bende they the browys and stedfastly they wene In theyr conceyt that they ar passynge wyse For all scripture newe commentis to deuyse

They frowardly the sentence do transpose And that whiche is wryten, both playne and holely By theyr corruptynge and vnlawfull glose Oft tyme they brynge to damnable heresy Falsly expoundynge after theyr fantasy They labour to transpose and turne the right sence Thoughe the wordes stryue and make great resystence

Here what these folys with theyr audacyte Dare besely say by theyr fals errour blynde Presumynge on goddes secrete and pryuete Here what lewde wordes they cast out in the wynde They say what man can chaunge or turne his mynde To lyue after any other fourme and rate But lyke as he is therto predestynate

They say: if god that rayneth ouerall Hath any ordeyned that in this worlde is To come to the place and rowme celestyall For to be partyner of euerlastynge blys Ordeyned for suche as here doth nat amys No man can chaunge, not other thynge mundayne That thynge whiche god by his myght doth ordayne

But if that god prefyxed hath before Any creature vnto infernall payne In derknes to be damnyd for euer more No erthly thynge may that sentence call agayne Nor hym delyuer: o fole thou mayst complayne For this thy foly and also it repent Thynkest thou nat god alway omnypotent

Is god nat rightwyse and grounde of all iustyce Rewardynge man after his gouernaunce He that hath here nat lyen in synne and vyce Hauynge in goddys seruyce his pleasaunce Shall of his lorde be had in remembraunce And of rewarde worthely be sure Where it is worthy that synners payne endure

Trust well who seruyth his maker stedfastly With pure herte kepynge sure his commaundement And lawes shall be rewardyd fynally With heuenly ioy and scape all punysshement Therfore thou fole leue of this lewde intent Lyue vertuously and trust in goddes grace Than yll desteny in the shall haue no place

Vnto great ioy god hath vs all create And to vs all ordeyned his kyngdome And none hath vnto Hell predestynate But often whan we folowe nat wysdome By ouer owne foly we fall, and so become Vnto our maker vnkind: and hym deny Whiche them rewardyth that here lyue vertuously

Therfore thou Fole desyst thy wordes vayne And let thy tunge no more suche wordes say For god hath vs made all of one stuf certayne As one potter makyth of one clay Vessels dyuers, but whan he must them lay Vpon the kyll with fyre them there to dry They come nat all to good, moste comonly

Doth this erthyn pot his maker dispyse Whether it be made of fassyon good or yll Saynge why dost thou make me in this wyse Wherfore mad man I reade the to be styll Blame nat thy maker, for thy vnhappy wyll For god hath neuer man nor childe create But all he hath to heuen predestynate

And whyle we lyue here on this wretchyd grounde We haue our reason and wyttes vs to gyde With our fre wyll and if no faute be founde In our demenour, in heuen we shall abyde But if we goddes lawes set asyde Howe may we hope of hym rewarde to wyn So our owne foly is moste cause of our syn.

THE ENUOY OF BARCLAY.

O creature vnkynde vnto thy creatour What carest thou to knowe or to inuestygate The pryuetye, of god, leue this thy errour To thynke the by hym to be predestynate To endles wo and from his blysse pryuate For syns thou hast thy reason and frewyll Gyuyn the by god, thou art in suche estate To take the eleccion outher of good or yll

* * * * *

Of folys that forget them selfe and do another mannys besynes leuynge theyr owne vndone.

Within my Shyp of rowme he shall be sure Whiche for anothers auantage and profyte Takyth great thought and doth moche payne endure Vnto his owne charge takynge no respyte But settyth it asyde and hath all his delyte With all his stody hym to enforce and dres: To care for euery mannys besynes.

Suche hertles folys to them self neglygent In theyr owne charge slepe contynually But with open iyen they ar full dylygent The worke of other with all theyr myght to aply And for others profyte prouyde they besely. But whyle these Folys ar glad to take in hande Anothers charge, theyr owne styll let they stande

Wherfore I am so bolde within my boke Somwhat to touch these folys mad vsage That if it fortune them on the same to loke They may therby perceyue in theyr corage That labour they ought for their owne auauntage Most specyally. for that is the degre And the true order of perfyte charite

For perfyte loue and also charite Begynneth with hym selfe for to be charitable And than to other after his degre Thy owne auauntage is ay moost profytable The great Phylosophers of maners ferme and stable And also of wysdome godly and dyuyne Hath left to vs suche techynge and doctryne

We haue by Therence the same commaundement The same is wryten also as I fynde In the holy lawe of the olde testament And therfore he that oft wyll set his mynde For others maters with care his thought to blynde Let hym first se vnto his owne profyte Lyst some mysfortune hym after sharply byte

Let hym turne his labour to his owne auauntage And than do for other where as he seeth moste nede For who that playeth for mony outher gage And on his felawes cast takyth onely hede And nat to his owne, suche one shall seldom spede And is a Fole. So is he that doth ren To quenche another hous, suffrynge his owne to bren

Suche one of his owne damage hath no fere And worthy is his losse and hurte to byde So is he that wyll anothers burthen bere Or takyth anothers charge at any tyde Despysynge his owne werke and settynge it asyde If suche haue losse and after it forthynke No man shall moche force whether he flete or synke

He is well worthy to haue a folys pype That goth vnbyddyn to rype anothers corne And suffreth his owne to stande though it be rype. And generally all Folys ar worthy scorne Of what maner byrth so euer they be borne If they them self put, to losse or damage Therby to do some other auauntage

Say curyous Fole: say what pleasour thou hast In others maters thy self to intermyt Or theyr great charges thus in thy mynde to cast Thy selfe to socour set thou thy mynde and wyt Let others maters therfore in quyete syt On thy owne profyte of all firste set thy mynde And than (if thou mayst) do somwhat for thy frende

For vtterly that man is moche vnwyse That thus takyth thought for anothers charge And doth his owne by neglygence despyse For suche Folys I forgyd haue this barge But of the same suche men I clene discharge That first of his pryuate profyte can take hede And than helpe a frende and felowe at a nede

THENUOY OF BARKLAY.

Ye that take charge, thought and besy cure For others mysfortune, losse or aduersyte First of your self I aduyse you to be sure For this is the order of parfyte charyte Eche to hym selfe moste louynge ay to be And next to his frende, but who that doth dispyse. His owne besynes whiche is in ieopardye Seynge to anothers forsoth he is vnwyse

* * * * *

Of the vyce of vnkyndnes.

He is a Fole that crauynge is alway Takynge the seruyce and rewardes of his frende And nat remembryth the same agayne to pay But as a churle it castyth out of his mynde For who that wolde haue one to hym be kynde And lyberall, he ought the same to be For kyndnes meyntayneth bothe loue and charyte

He that wyll charge another with cures harde And great labours greuous to sustayne Ought for his labour hym worthely rewarde That the rewarde may be confort to his payne It is disworshyp and also shame certayne To take the labour of any ryche or pore And nat iustly hym to content therfore

Wherfore the workman ought also to intende Vnto his labour to saue his honestye And workemanly to brynge it the ende If he therby wolde well rewardyd be And if the owner therof beholde and se. His worke so done, he is a chorle vnkynde If he do nat content the workmannys mynde.

He that wolde gladly that men sholde hym commende Must fully purpose and fyx within his mynde Lyberall to be and nat euer to intende To false Auaryce, whiche many one doth blynde And if he purpose hye honours for to fynde Or hym auaunce to any great degre He must haue mekenes and lyberalyte

He must of maners also be commendable And of his speche als pleasaunt as he can For an olde prouerbe true and verytable Sayth that good lyfe and maners makyth man But euery lawe doth dam and also ban The churlysshe vyce and lewde of vnkyndnes Whiche dryeth vp the well of bounte and goodnes

For vnkynde folys if one labour dylygent And so brynge theyr worke vnto good conclusyon They fynde yet fautis and so ar nat content Withdrawynge the rewarde by theyr collusyon Wherfore let suche thynke it no abusyon Nor haue disdayne ne yet in mynde complayne If the pore laborer gyue vp his worke agayne

These frowarde Folys, doth wronge and iniury To suche as to them do profyte and honour For kyndnes, they render shame and vylany Rebukes sclander extorcion and rygour But whyle they hope to come to great valoure And by such rygour to honours to aryse Theyr hope vanyssheth as doth the snowe or yce

Wherfore who that puttyth one to besynes To charge or labour of body or of mynde Ought hym rewarde agayne for his kyndnes If he do nat forsoth he is unkynde But specyally as I oft wryten fynde It is a thynge whiche doth for vengeaunce cry A pore laborer to put to Iniury

What man can wryte the inconuenyence Whiche groweth of this lewde and cursyd vyce Vnkyndnes causeth great myschefe and offence And is repugnynge to reason and iustyce Wherfore let suche that wyll be namyd wyse Leue it: and folowe lyberalyte Whiche is noryssher of loue and amyte

In dyuers bokes examples we may fynde Howe many Cytees hygh and excellent Agaynst all lawe and reason were vnkynde To suche as dyd theyr dignyte augment O vnkynde rome thou was of this intent Whiche hast Camyllus exyled in great payne Thoughe he euer laboured thy honour to mentayne

O cruell Athenes by thy ingratytude Hast thou nat banysshyd Solon also fro the Though he enfourmyd hath thy maners rude And gyuyn the lawes of right and equyte For his great meryte, loue and benygnyte Thou hast hym gyuen exyle and paynes harde His labour was nat worthy that rewarde

Thou vnkynde Sparta: of thy audacyte What shall I wryte or thy lewde vnkyndnes Hast thou nat banysshed by thy cruelte Thy kynge Lycurgus, bycause he dyd redres Thy wanton errours by lawe and rightwysnes And Scipio whiche his country dyd defende Fonde it to hym, vnkynde at the last ende

A thousande mo whome I can nat expresse To suche as haue for them abyde great payne Haue done displeasour, and shewed vnkyndnes And them disceyued by some cautele or trayne Yet none of them great goodnes cowde obtayne By theyr vnkyndnes for who that so doth cast Vnkyndly shall be seruyd at the last.

THENUOY OF BARKLAY.

O fals vnkyndnes out on the I cry From all goodnes dost thou nat man withdrawe Byndynge his herte to gyle and vylany Agaynst nature, agaynst both right and lawe Thou makest man his maker nat to knawe Therfore thou man expell out from thy mynde This vyce, for we fynde in an olde sayde sawe Wo is hym that to his maker is vnkynde.

Remember man the great preemynence Gyuen unto the by good omnypotent Bytwene the and Angels is lytell difference And all thynge erthly to the obedyent Fysshe byrde and beste vnder the fyrmament Say what excuse mayst thou nowe lay or fynde Syns thou art made by god so excellent But that thou oughtest agayne to hym be kynde.

God hath the made vnto his owne lykenes No erthly creature vnto the comparable Thy iyen vpwarde to consyder his hyghnes Where other creatures that ar vnresonable Goeth on all foure and ar nat other able. Theyr loke alway vnto the grounde inclynyd Therfore thou ought in vertue to be stable And to thy maker neuer to be vnkynde

Whan man offendyd by disobedyence Subduynge hym self to labour care and payne And lost the consort of goodes hye presence Hath nat christ Jhesu redemyd hym agayne Besyde all this thou hast no thynge certayne In erth but by hym. wherfore I call the blynde And of thy maners vncurtayse and vylayne If to thy sauyour thou be nat true and kynde

Thoughe god hath made the (man) thus excellent To lyue (if thou lyst) in ioy eternally A lytell thynge shall hym agayne content He nought requyreth but thy herte onely And that thou defy thy gostly ennemy And in goddes seruyce thy herte and body bynde. Than shall he rewarde the in heuen right gloriously So mayst thou be callyd vnto thy maker kynde

* * * * *

Of folys that stande so well in their owne conceyt that they thinke none so wyse, stronge, fayre, nor eloquent, as they ar themself.

Vnto my shyp I call hym to be Coke The mete to dresse to other Folys echone Whiche in his myrrour doth alway gase and loke Whan he may get hym vnto a place alone And though of colour and beaute he haue none Yet thynketh he hym self fayre and right plesant And wyse: thoughe that he be mad and ignorant

In his owne dedys is onely his delyte In his owne conceyte thynkynge hymself right wyse And fayre, thoughe he be yelowe as kyte Is of hir fete: yet doth he styll deuyse His vayne myrrour: that onely is his gyse And thoughe he beholde hym self of lothly shape He wyll it nat byleue, but in his glasse doth gape.

Though for his foly all men myght hym repreue And that he se it before hym openly Within his glasse: he wyll it nat byleue But strongly it defende and eke deny He seyth nat his erys longe and hye Whiche stande vpon his folysshe hode behynde His lewde conceyt thus makyth hym starke blynde

Whan people comon of men of hye prudence Or of hye beauty, and strength if men doth tell If one suche fole were there in the presence He swere durst boldly and that on the gospell That he onely all other dyd excell And that to gyue councell good and profytable Were none in the worldly vnto hym comparable

These folys bost them selfe of theyr wysdome And thynke them selfe to haue preemynence Aboue all other that ar in christendome. In gyftis of grace as beautye and scyence Of strength, gode maners, vertue, and eloquence But thoughe they stande in theyr owne conceytis Nought is saue foly within theyr folysshe patis

And thoughe theyr face and vysage stande awry And all to reuylde, theyr mouth standynge asyde Within theyr myrrour the same can they nat spye But in theyr foly contynually abyde And whether that they ar styll outher go or ryde Labour or be ydyll, they gase styll in theyr glasse Yet wyll they nat byleue to haue erys lyke an Asse.

Oft whan these folys lye in theyr bed vpright With tawny loke or els theyr botyll nose They haue theyr myrrour alway in theyr syght The vayne glasse (of theyr beautye) to apose And whan suche a fole into the kechyn gose To stere the pot, there whether he syt or stande The glasse alway is in the other hande

Whan he a whyle his glas hath loken than If one examynyd hym of his beautye He boldly durst swere both by god and man That nought were in hym whiche myght repreuyd be But all goodnes, fayre shape, and loke of grauyte And that his gere gayly vpon his backe doth syt He hardly is wyse: if he had any wyt.

I wryten fynde that great inconuenyence As losse, contempt and occasyon of pryde Hath fallyn vnto many by this lewde complacence Whiche haue nat knowen the way themself to gyde The emperour Otho had ay borne by his syde In warre and peas (a glasse) for his pleasaunce To se his colour therin; and countenaunce

And to the entent to make his colour gay With Assys mylke he noyntyd oft his skyn And shauyd his berde onys euery day But for that he offendyd god herein After was he sharply punysshyd for this syn And put vnto extreme rebuke and shame To gyue other example to auoyde the same

It is forsoth a maner femynyne And nat for man to be so elegant To suche toyes wanton wymen may inclyne A yonge mayde may at her forhede haue pendant The vayne myrrour to se hir shape pleasant Man sholde nought set by to norysshe his beautye But onely manhode strength and audacyte

The wanton mayde may for hir self ordayne Hir call hir coyfe, and suche conceytis newe As broches fyletes and oyntmentis souerayne And clothynge of dyuers colour and of hewe But nowe yonge men the same fourme do ensue And to content theyr mad and folysshe mynde To wymen they compare themselfe agaynst kynde

Disorder rayneth as I before haue sayde The yonge men takyth womans countenaunce And hir aparayll, and wymen ar arayde As men: agaynst all lawe and ordynaunce Thus man and woman ensue mysgouernaunce In theyr behauour is small dyuersyte Theyr owne conceyt causeth great enormyte

The poet Ouyde shewyth in a fable Howe that one callyd Pygmalyon by name A fygure made vnto hymselfe semblable Whiche he in marbyll right craftely dyd frame And in so moche he worshypped the same Tyll at the last his mynde was past and gone And he transformed so was in to that stone

And if the Poetis fables be all sure As by theyr subtyle wordes oft we here The childe Narcissus was chaungyd of fygure Whyle he behelde into the water clere For whyle his shadowe vnto hym dyd apere Vpon the same so sore he set his mynde That he transformyd was to another kynde.

But to retorne agayne to our purpose And of this sort of Folys to conclude If god sholde them to other shape transpose That thynke them fayre though they be foule and rude Into foule fassyon he many sholde include For whyle Folys theyr owne beauty magnyfy So growyth the nomber and so they multyply

THENUOY OF BARKLAY THE TRANSLATOUR.

Blynde man inclere thy wylfull ignoraunce Stande nat so great in thy owne conceyte Ne in thy lewde fassyon set nat thy pleasaunce Whether thou be pore or man of great estate Another man moche more shall in the wayte Of gode and yll than thou thy self canst do Therfore be nat cause to thy self of disceyte If one the teche: aply thy mynde therto

* * * * *

Of lepynges and dauncis and Folys that pas theyr tyme in suche vanyte.

Those folys a place may chalenge in my shyp Whiche voyde of wysdome as men out of theyr mynde Them selfe delyte to daunce to lepe and skyp In compase rennynge lyke to the worlde wyde In vnkynde labour, suche folys pleasour fynde Rennynge about in this theyr furyous vyce Lyke as it were in Bacchus sacryfyce

Or as the Druydans rennyth in vayne about In theyr mad festes vpon the hylle of yde Makynge theyr sacrafyce with furour noyse and shout Whan theyr madnes settyth theyr wyt asyde Or whan the prestis of mars all nyght abyde Within theyr temple by vse abhomynable To theyr ydollys doynge theyr seruyce detestable

Lyke as these paynyms hath to theyr ydols done Theyr sacryfyce wandrynge in theyr madnes Theyr bodyes weryenge, in vayne wastynge their shone So do these fowlys them selfe to daunsynge dres Sekynge occason of great vnhappynes They take suche labour without all hope of gayne Without rewarde sure, of werynes and payne

Say Folys that vse this fury and outrage What causyth you to haue delyte therin For your great labour say what is your wage Forsoth ye can therby no profyte wyn But seke occasyon (as I haue sayde) of syn And for thy werynge thy fete thus in the dust Thou gettest no gayne but cause of carnall lust

But whan I consyder of this folysshe game The firste begynnynge and cause orygynall I say the cause therof is worthy blame For whan the deuyll to disceyue man mortall And do contempt to the hye god eternall Vpon a stage had set a Calfe of golde. That euery man the same myght clere beholde

So than the Fende grounde of mysgouernaunce Causyd the people this fygure to honour As for theyr god and before the same to daunce. Whan they were dronkon, thus fell they in errour Of Idolatry, and forgate theyr creatour. Before this ydoll daunsynge both wyfe and man Dispysynge god: Thus daunsynge fyrst began

Suche blynde folyes and inconuenyence Engendryth great hurte and incommodyte And sawyth sede wherof groweth great offence The grounde of vyce and of all enormyte In it is pryde, fowle lust and lecherye And whyle lewde lepys ar vysd in the daunce Oft frowarde bargayns ar made by countenaunce

What els is daunsynge but euen a nurcery Or els a bayte to purchase and meyntayne In yonge hertis the vyle synne of rybawdry Them fe*trynge therin, as in a dedely chayne And to say trouth in wordes clere and playne Venereous people haue all theyr hole pleasaunce Theyr vyce to norysshe by this vnthryfty daunce

And wanton people disposyd vnto syn To satysfye theyr mad concupyscence With hasty cours vnto this daunsynge ryn To seke occasyon of vyle synne and offence And to expresse my mynde in short sentence This vyciouse game oft tymes doth attyse By his lewde synes, chast hartis vnto vyce

Than it in erth no game is more damnable It semyth no peas, but Batayle openly They that it vse of myndes seme vnstable As mad folke rennynge with clamour showt and cry What place is voyde of this furyous foly None: so that I dout within a whyle These folys the holy churche shall defyle

Of people what sort or order may we fynde Ryche or pore hye or lowe of name But by theyr folysshnes, and wanton mynde Of eche sort some ar gyuen vnto the same The prestis and clerkes to daunce haue no shame The frere or monke in his frocke and cowle Must daunce in his dortor lepynge to play the fole

To it comys children, maydes and wyues. And flaterynge yonge men to se to haue theyr pray The hande in hande great falshode oft contryues The olde quean also this madnes wyll assay And the olde dotarde thoughe he skantly may For age and lamenes stere outher fote or hande Yet playeth he the fole with other in the bande

Than lepe they about as folke past theyr mynde With madnes amasyd rennynge in compace He moste is commendyd that can moste lewdnes fynde Or can most quyckly ren about the place There ar all maners vsyd that lacke grace Mouynge theyr bodyes in synes full of shame Whiche doth theyr hertes to synne right sore inflame

So oft this vyce doth many one abuse That whan they ar departyd from the daunce On lust and synne contynually they muse Hauynge therin theyr wyll and theyr pleasaunce Than fall they oft to great mysgouernaunce As folys gyuyn to worke vnprofytable So in my shyp they well deserue a babyll.

THENUOY OF BARKLAY

Do way your daunces ye people moche vnwyse Desyst your folysshe pleasour of trauayle It is me thynke an vnwyse vse and gyse To take suche labour and payne without auayle And who that suspectyth his mayde or wyues tayle Let hym nat suffer them in the daunce to be For in that game thoughe sys or synke them fayle The dyse oft renneth vpon the chaunce of thre

* * * * *

Of nyght watchers and beters of the stretes playnge by nyght on instrumentes and vsynge lyke Folyes whan tyme is to rest.

Nowe wolde I of my boke haue made an ende And with my shyp drawen to some hauen or porte Stryken my sayle, and all my folys sende Vnto the londe, a whyle them selfe to sporte But this my purpose is lettyd by a sorte Of frantyke folys, wandrynge about by nyght For often all yll doers hatyth the day lyght

Whyle (man) beste and euery lyuely creature Refresshe theyr myndes and bodyes with rest And slepe: without the whiche none can endure And whyle all byrdes drawe them to theyr nest These dronken bandes of Folys than doth Jest About the stretis, with rumour noyse and cry Syngynge theyr folysshe songes of rybawdry

The furyes ferefull spronge of the flodes of hell Vexith these vagabundes in theyr myndes so That by no mean can they abyde ne dwell Within theyr howsys, but out they nede must go More wyldly wandrynge than outher bucke or doo Some with theyr harpis another with his lute Another with his bagpype or a folysshe flute

Than mesure they theyr songes of melody Before the dores of theyr lemman dere Yowlynge with theyr folysshe songe and cry So that theyr lemman may theyr great foly here And tyll the yordan make them stande arere Cast on theyr hede, or tyll the stonys fle They nat depart, but couet there styll to be

But yet more ouer these Folys ar so vnwyse That in colde wynter they vse the same madnes Whan all the howsys ar lade with snowe and yse O mad men amasyd vnstabyll and wytles What pleasour take ye in this your folysshenes What ioy haue ye to wander thus by nyght Saue that yll doers alway hate the lyght

But folysshe youth doth nat alone this vse Come of lowe byrth and sympyll of degre But also statis them selfe therein abuse With some yonge folys of the spiritualte The folysshe pype without all grauyte Doth eche degre call to this frantyke game The darkenes of nyght expellyth fere of shame

One barkyth another bletyth lyke a shepe Some rore, some countre, some theyr balades fayne Another from syngynge gyueth hym to wepe Whan his souerayne lady hath of hym dysdayne Or shyttyth hym out, and to be short and playne Who that of this sort best can play the knaue Lokyth of the other the maystery to haue

The folysshe husbonde oft of this sort is one With wanton youth wandrynge by nyght also Leuynge his wyfe at home in bed alone And gyueth hyr occasyon often to mysdo So that whyle he after the owle doth go Fedynge the Couko, his wyfe hir tyme doth watche Receyuynge another whose egges she doth hatche.

Therfore ye folys that knowe you of this sort To gyue occasyon of synne vnto your wyues And all other: I you pray and exort Of this your foly to amende your lyues For longe nyght watches seldome tymes thryues But if it be in labour: good to wyn Therfore kepe your dorys: els abyde within

Thoughe I have touchyd of this enormyte In englysshe tunge: yet is it nat so vsed In this Royalme as it is beyonde the se Yet moche we vse whiche ought to be refusyd Of great nyght watchynge we may nat be excusyd But our watchynge is in drunken glotony More than in syngynge or other meledy

Whan it is nyght and eche shulde drawe to rest Many of our folys great payne and watchynge take To proue maystryes and se who may drynke best Outher at the Tauerne of wyne, or the ale stake Other all nyght watchyth for theyr lemmans sake Standynge in corners lyke as it were a spye Whether that the weder be, hote, colde, wete, or dry

Some other Folys range about by nyght Prowdely Jettynge as men myndeles or wode To seke occasyon with pacyent men to fyght Delytynge them in shedynge mennys blode Outher els in spoylynge of other mennys gode Let these folys with suche lyke and semblable Drawe to this barge, here shall they here a bable

THENUOY OF BARCLAY.

Ye folys that put your bodyes vnto payne By nyghtly watchynge, voyde of auauntage Leue of your foly or els ye shall complayne And mourne it sore if ye lyue vnto age For though ye thynke that this your blynde outrage Is vnto you no hurte nor preiudyce It doth your body and goodes great dammage And great cause both to you and yours of vyce.

* * * * *

Of folysshe beggers and of theyr vanytees.

A great company of folys may we fynde Amonge beggers, whiche haue theyr hole delyte In theyr lewde craft: wherfore I set my mynde In this Barge theyr maners, brefely for to write For thoughe that nede them greuously do byte. Yet is theyr mynde for all theyr pouerte To kepe with them of children great plente

And though that they myght otherwyse well lyue And get theyr lyuynge by labour and besynes Yet fully they theyr myndes set and gyue To lede this lyfe alway in wretchydnes The clerke, frere, or monke, whiche hath store of ryches For all his lyfe. if he it gyde wysely. Wyll yet the beggers offyce occupy

Suche oft complayne the charge of pouerte In garmentis goynge raggyd and to rent But yet haue they of ryches great plente Whiche in gode vse can neuer of them be spent Almys is ordeyned by god omnypotent And holy churche: for to be gyuyn in dede Vnto good vse, and suche as haue moste nede

Almes is ordeyned by god our creatour For men that lyue in nede and wretchydnes Therwith their paynfull lyues to socour And nat for ryche that lyues in viciousnes But yet suche caytyfs boldly in dare pres For their lewde lyfe without all maner drede This almes takynge from them that haue most nede

The abbot, the Pryour, and also theyr couent Ar so blyndyd with vnhappy couetyse That with theyr owne can they nat be content But to haue more, they alway mean deuyse Ye: in so moche that some haue founde a gyse To fayne theyr bretherne tan in captyuyte That they may begge so by auctoryte

They fayne myracles where none were euer done And all for lucre: some other range about To gather and begge with some fayned pardon And at the alehows at nyght all drynkyth out So ren these beggers in company rowt By stretis tauernes townes and vyllagys No place can well be fre of theyr outragys

Some begge for byldynges, some for relyques newe Of holy sayntis of countreys farre and strange And with theyr wordes faynyd and vntrewe For cause of Lucre, about they ren and range But in a sympyll vyllage, ferme or grange Where as these beggers moste sympyll men may fynde With theyr fals bonys as relykes they them blynde

Other beynge stronge and full of lustynes And yonge ynoughe to labour for theyr fode Gyuyth theyr bodyes fully to slewthfulnes The beggers craft thynkynge to them moost good Some ray theyr legges and armys ouer with blood With leuys and plasters though they be hole and sounde Some halt as crypyls, theyr legge falsely vp bounde

Some other beggers falsly for the nonys Disfygure theyr children god wot vnhappely Manglynge theyr facys, and brekynge theyr bonys To stere the people to pety that passe by There stande they beggynge with tedyous shout and cry There owne bodyes tournynge to a strange fassion To moue suche as passe to pyte and compassyon

Suche yonge laddys as lusty ar of age Myghty and stronge, and wymen in lyke wyse Wanton and yonge and lusty of cowrage Gyueth them selfe vtterly to this gyse The cause is that they labour do despyse For theyr mynde is in ydylnes to be styll Or els in vyce to wander at theyr wyll

They paciently theyr prouertye abyde Nat for deuocion of herte or of mynde But to the intent that at euery tyde Other mennys godes sholde them fede and fynde. But if they a whyle haue ron in the wynde And in theyr hande the staf some hete hath caught They neuer after shall leue the beggers craft

Amonge these beggers also is comonly Braulynge debate hatered and chydynge Great othes, mockes falshode and enuy And one with other euer more fyghtynge As for theyr dronkennes and vnsure abydynge Theyr rebaudry both in dede and communycacion These ar chefe poyntis of theyr occupation

If the begger haue his staf and his hode One bagge behynde and another before Than thynkes he hym in the myddes of his goode Thoughe that his clothes be raggyd and to tore His body nere bare he hath no thought therfore And if some man cloth them well to day To morowe it shall agayne be solde away

And if these caytyfes fortune to begge or cry For mete or money, on woman or on man If one to them that, that they aske deny And so depart: anone these beggers than Whan he is gone, doth wary curse and ban And if another gyue them ought of pyte At the next alestake dronken shall it be

But if that I sholde gather in my barge All folysshe beggers, and labour or intende To note all theyr vyces, to sore sholde be the charge And as I suppose I neuer sholde make an ende. Wherfore I counsell them shortly to amende Or els theyr lewdnes, synne, and enormyte Shall cause men withdrawe theyr almes of charyte

THENUOY OF BARCLAY THE TRANSLATOUR.

O people vnthrifty gyuen to ydlenes Spendynge your youth this wyse in vanyte What ioy haue ye to lyue in wretchydnes Where ye myght come to better rowme and degre By worke, and labour: and so auaunsyd be Yet begge ye styll hauynge your ioy therin Amende your foly, and lerne ye this of me That goddes good sholde nat be spent in syn

Corrections made to printed original.

"He shalbe made parson of Honington or Clist." - 'mde' in original.

"a mistake as to identity" - 'indentity' in original.

"the executours of this my last Will" - 'th executours' in original.

"written [p=] me" - 'written[p=]nce' in original.

End of Project Gutenberg's The Ship of Fools, Volume 1, by Sebastian Brandt