POESYES OF HORACE Meeter, by Levvis Euans Schoolemayster.
¶ The second Poesie of Horace rebuking Uice.

¶ The Argument.
¶ Here Horace dooth by ryght rebuke, suche as keepe not the meane:
Not leauing eke vntouched those, which to theyr lustes do leane.
THe rowte & crewe of dronken drabs, & oynctment they yt sell,
the beggers, bawdes, & al the kind of flatterers fowle & fell
Are wofull sad when yt they heare, of Tigill: singers deathe:
For that he spent his wealth on them. But this will not vnneath
(For feare to bee so prodigall,) gyue to his fryende in neede,
Therby his hunger & his cold, to dryue away with speede.
If thou the one demaund why hee his fathers wealth doth wast,
And substaunce great on daintye fare, with persons vyle vnchast,
Preparing so such gluttons feast, with money had by hyre?
Because (saith hee) to shunne the name of Niggard I requyre.
Which one his mates do much comend, but him the wyse do blame.
Fusidius fearth on thother syde, of gluttons great the shame.
When that he hath great groūdes & eke, much money lent for gaine,
Who doth requyre for euery pounde, fyue pounde to hym agayne.
And looke thunthryfter any is, the more hee wryngthe of him,
And so hee haunteth yonkers out, that wolde go fyne and trym.
But yet whom fathers harde do fynde, what God could now lo, lo,
Chuse but exclayme, and crye on such, when those yt they do kno?
But this mans charge is as his gayne, thou scarsly mayst belyeue,
How small a freynd vnto him selfe, is hee that thus doth lyue.
Lyke as the father, (Terence sayth) was sad, his sonne awaye,
No greater greife susteyned hee, then doth this churle alwaye.
If any now do aske of mee, what meane these tales begun?
To shew that fooles auoyding faultes, to faultes ouerwartly run.
Malchinus walkthe with gowne so long, as flappeth oft the ground
A mecier man doth weare agayne, a cutted cloke and rounde:
Rufillus smelthe of Muskbals styll, and Gorgon stinkes as Gote,
there is no mene, there are which wil not touch but those I wote
whose gownes do traile the ground, & so ar wyues & matrons such.
Another on the other parte, but stynking hoores will tuche.
When that from stewes was cōming foorth, a certaine famous man
To him sage Cato sayd, procede in vertue if thou can,
For lo, as soone as fylthy lust, the puffed vppe with desyre,
Such youth then here for to discend right lawe doth it requyre:
And not to tempte the matron wyfes: but I defye that prayse,
Said he Cupennius which did loue, none els but wifes alwayes.
For you to heare is labour worth, which that aduowtrous men
Wolde not to speede, or haue theyr wil, how they are payned then
And how the pleasure rare they haue, corrupted is with grief,
Still chaunsing vnto daungers greate, that dayly bene & rief.
The one from window hygh in house, hath fallen headlong rownd,
the other whipt almost to death▪ yt third they theues haue fownd.
Another caught compelled is, to saue him selfe with brybe,
With pyspots, Skoollions, dresse the fyfte, & sixte I will describe.
Whose chaunce is for to suffer payne, and gelded for to bee,
Which they deserue as all men saye, yet nay sayth Galba hee.
But how more safe the next degree of women men may vse,
I meane all such as are made flee, whom Salust could not chuse
But like aduowtrer fancie much, yet if that hee had so
Bene free, as wealth & wisdome wolde, & them wolde gyue no mo
Then myght become one lyberall, and bounteous fayne wolde bee,
Hee shuld them gyue as that hee might, not hurting his degree
As that shuld to his shame redound, but this was his desyre,
And this hee lykte, that hee might say, no Matron I requyre.
As Marsaeus seruent Louer once, Origines of the queane.
Did giue that daunsing drab his ground, his house nor substance meane,
& than did say wt men theyr wifes, I neuer had lo to do,
But yet vile drabs & naughty queanes, thou Marsaeu oft didst kno
By whom thy name susteineth losse, more then thy goods I graunt,
thinkst thou ynough to fly some sort, & that which hurts to haūt?
For thee to lose good name, and spend thy fathers wealth awaye
Is ill and hurte, wherso thou spendes vnthryftly that I saye,
What diffrence if thou synne, wt matron graue or harlot gaye
Annius Milo sonne in lawe of Silla foole in thys,
In hauing pleasure in such name, hee suffred payne Iwys
More then ynoughe, for buffets had, with sworde hee was beset
And dryuen foorth when Longaren: within his loue did get.
To him with wordes of pryuye part, perceauing all his woe.
If reason sayd what meanest thou? do I of thee looke so,
To haue a mate begotten thus, of Consuls stately race,
And clad in robes when that my lust, doth thee so feruent chace?
What shuld hee say? the mayde is borne, of father noble great.
But by how much thynges far more meete, & contraring this yet
Doth Nature riche her selfe vs warne. But if thou well wylt nowe
worke thine intent, & not things fond, to things being good if thou
Wylt ioyne, to differ thynkst thou not, through folly if thou synne,
Or through the neede or want of things, then linger not, begynne
And leaue to haunt the matron wyfes, by whō of trueth more paine
And hurt doth come, then yt therof, thou mayst receyue of gayne.
Nor of this matron braue wt stones, being precious white & greene,
(Although Cherinte thine be so) the lymmes are ryghtlyer seene.
But yea, somtimes of cōmon Queanes, the lymmes are far more fine
Who what they haue to sell do shewe, not forsynge face to shyne.
And if some honesty they haue, they bragge not of the same,
Neither seeke they how for to hyde, theyr bodies, faultes & blame.
Ryche men so vse when they do buy, great Horses clad to knee,
To vewe the same least stature tall, and comely for to see.
Being oft set foorth with feete so lyghte, a bayte to buy shuld bee,
Or that for buttockes fayre, short head, or necke couragious free.
They do this well, but thou wilt not, of matron marke with heede
The cheifest partes, whē yet more blind, thē Hipsea blind indeede:
Thou woldst beholde the meaner partes, o legge, o armes, but well,
Shee boulged buttockes, & great nose, short syde & feete hath fell.
Of matrons thou mayst not behold nowght els but hew of face,
which wt long gownes be hid onlesse, their legs haue Catias grace.
But if the place forbyd thou seeke, that trenched is (for thee
That maketh madde) much things a let, to thine intent shalbee.
Her keepers, lycter, and such lyke, of Parasytes a thrall,
Her robe yt trailth to ground, & cloke most large yt couereth all,
which do disdaine that thou shuldst se, yt which we Cunnus cal
The other strompet workth no fatche, whom in thin weede yt shalt
As naked see, to vewe if legge, or fylthy feete doo halt,
Thou mayst beholde with syght her syde, wilt thou therfore I saye
Be so begylde and suffer dames, to haue theyr gayne awaye,
Before they purpose had? but yet as hunter deepe in snowe
Doth hunt the Hare, not touching her, yt foorth her self doth show
Such as hee takes with paine hee eates, to whom my loue is lyke,
which thinges so easie had doth hate, & things hard out doth pike
With verses such, and hopest thou awaye to put and pare
Quite from thy breast thy greif & heates, & crooked cursed care?
Hath not to lust dame Nature made, a bound and measure suche
As her what lykth or doth myslyke, or what contentes her muche
To searche doth more auayle? and so thynges fond from syt to sette:
As when your tawes do dry for thryst, seeke you of golde to gette
A cuppe? whether hungryng lothe you, all meates and fare besyde
A Pecocke and a Turbot bothe? when lust thee swelles so wyde:
If maiden or bond boye be by, to whom shuld thy desyre
Take place? or woldst thou rather burst through stifnes of thy [...]ire?
I lyke not her (for one loue I, all redye at desyre,)
That wil appoynt anon (their mate being forth) but at more hyre,
Such one let pranking Frenche men take, (saith Philodem) for mee,
Let one bee had of meaner pryce, that glad to come wyll bee,
So whyte, vpryght & fayre let her appete that not more longe
Nor fayrer more that wold be seene, then nature wrought amōge:
When this in bed her selfe doth lye, and I therin also,
Then Ilia her and Egeria I call by names and mo.
Nor feare I ought as I thys do, least man from countrey come
And gates shuld burst, or dog shuld barke, & then againe by some
Least that great noyse be made in house, or that then pale frō bead,
The dame shuld sleape, and call her selfe, both wofull & wretchead
For taken, shee must feare her bones, yea least shee dowry lose
And I my selfe with gowne on gyrte, must barefoote flee my foes,
Least I shuld money pay and leese my ware, or els my name
To bee taken is woo. I winne, though Fabius Iudge the same.
¶ Thus endeth the second Poesye of Hor [...]ce.

¶ Imprynted at London in Fletestreate beneath the Conduite: at the Sygne of S. Iohn Euangelyst, by Thomas Colwell.

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