¶ 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 Ma [...]lard.
ANNO 1 [...].
To the right Honorable and hys singular good Lady, Lady Anne, Coūtesse Warvvicke, George Turberuyle wysheth Nestors yeares, with all good fortune.
SIthens GOD (madame) hath made Man of so diuine and heauenly Nature, assignyng hym the heade and Soueraigne of all other earthly things: pitie were it, yea rather shame, for him to debase his kinde, or taint himselfe with any thing vnworthie so noble a Creature. Yet so many are the cuils and mischiefes in this life, assaultyag the minde and better part of man, making him franke offer of suche painted pleasures and counterfaite Fel [...]ie, as without great hede and prouident care, vnpossible is it for him to scape the deceitfull snares of alluring Vice whose ioy cōsistet [...] in h [...] s [...]sion and ful. [Page] So diuers are the hookes that Sinne layeth to take the Soule withall: as few of many can swim through the rockie Sea of this perilous life without tasting that pleasaunt hurtefull bayte. Whiche if they once feede on, taking therin delight and pleasure, vnawares they deuoure and swallow downe the hooke that brings them spe [...]die and vnauoided death. Wherfore waying the danger hereof, and cō sidering the great store of vices, behouefull is it for vs to deuise some one remedie or other against this mischief. And sithens nothing can better haue redresse than by his contrarie (as all diseases by contraries are to be recured) there can not (I thinke) bee a more spedie or absolute meane to auoid this monster Ʋice, delighting in Mans decaye, than to skirmishe vnder the banner of Vertue, alwayes awaiting on hir, neuer doing ought contrary to hir lawes and ordinaunces. For Vertue is it that hateth Ʋice, seeking the best it may to suppresse that cankred nature of his, and withstand his malicious attemptes. But so narow and straight is the passage to Vertue, so sundry are the Ʋices eke lying in awaite and ambushe to intercept vs, as it [Page] is a labour of no slender toile to attaine the same. Here might I for witnesse appeale Aristotle that noble Greke and learned Philosopher, saue that the Experience it selfe sufficiently maketh shewe therof. Yet it shall not be from the purpose to recite his opinion. He in his boke of Morall Vertues hath this Sentence: Quia Virtus medium sibi quasi signum proponit, difficile est virtute esse praeditum, Whiche I thus englishe: For that Vertue setts before it the Meane, as a marke and scope, a harde matter is it to bee Vertuous. See here (Madame) both the position of the lerned Philosopher, and his reason withall. For not alone hathe he in these fewe wordes affirmd it hard to attain Vertue, but giueth also a cause of the difficultie therin. Bicause (sayth he) it consistes vpon the meane. And in dede so doth it. Extremities are the mortal enimies of Vertue. Vertue delighteth euer to obserue the Meane, and flee excesse in al things. Whatsoeuer it is that partakes with Extremes, and shoonnes the golden Meane, can not smatch of Vertue at all. Wherfore waying the difficultie of this matter, As better hap can not befall a wandring [Page] Pilgrim doubtfull and altogether vncertaine of his voyage (hauing many ways at his foote to pace in) than to chaunce vpon the right Pathe to his long desired lodge and harbor: So greater cōfort can not come to a mā iorneying in the vncertain progresse of this pilgrimage of life, where Vice offers him sundry wayes and bypathes to wickednesse, than to finde a ready and beaten path to Vertue, there to rest and stay his running and vnstayd foote. Whiche sithens it is so harde a matter to find out without a guide, I (madame) haue here offred my paines, as your Ladyship may se, in this litle Boke, vpon great desire to discouer a plaine Path to perfect Vertue, that all men might discerne the hie way that leades to happy life. For assuredly our nature of it selfe is chiefly bent and inclined to the yll and wicked trade. And albeit (Madame) your Ladyship for your owne parte are in euery poynt so furnished with Vertue, as small is youre neede of any instructour therein, beeing very well able to aduise your selfe in liuing well: yet for that the place of honoure wherein you sitte, and your Noble State, is a Spectacle [Page] and Myrrour to inferiour persons, whereby to frame their corrupted liues: thought it not amisse to dedicate you this slender treatise of mine. Hauyng desire to publishe it vnder the protection of your name, for that I hope there will the moe peruse the Booke: and in perusing (I trust) shall light vpon some one Wholesome lesson or other, preuailing to the increse of Vertue and honest life. Whiche if doe happen, then shall I reioyce that it was my happe trauailyng in so litle a Booke to doe the Reader so greate a benefite, and youre Ladyshippe haue the lesse cause to accuse my bolde attempte in dedicating you the same. Neither yet doe I chalenge vnto mee the first inuention thereof, for then wrong shoul [...] I doe to Mancinus, myne Authour: but for Vertues sake was desirous to write of Vertue, though following the foote and steppes (as it were) of an other man. If my Author be in his language to be liked for his deuise in pēning the Treatise, then shall I not (I trust) deserue misliking for translating the same. Wherefore presumyng vpon the good acceptaunc [...] of this my Boke at youre Ladyships hande [Page] whome I boldely craue as Buckeler to my weake and vnarmed Muse, and affying well in the Readers curtesie, I ende this tedious Epistle: Crauyng your long continuance of present honour, with good successe in all your Life.
To whom I rest a dayly Orator George Turberuyle.
‘Virtutis comes inuidia, Sed ex virtute gloria.’
To the Reader.
I Neither vvrite the nevves of Poules of late set out to sale,
Nor Meting of the London Maides: for novv that Fish is stale.
The date therof is fully out, no vvonder lasteth long.
I speake not this vpon desire to doe that vvriter vvrong,
But for bicause not long ago vvithin this Citie Syn
Had done a spoyle (as one did vvrite) and Conquerour [...]d byn,
Displaying banners [...] about in proofe of Con [...]uest vvoon,
And sounding Trun [...] as though he had the Citie ouerroon:
Bicause (I say) vve mig [...] renevve the battaile once againe,
And reencounter Sinne afresh that spites at Vertues traine:
To fine vve might that filthy Fiende and hideous Hydra slay,
Mancinus first, and I by him to Vertue shevv the vvay.
For Vertue is the foe in deede vvhom Vice doth deadly hate:
And euer yet betvvixt them hath there ben a foule debate.
And though that Syn hath greater gard and souldiers moe in fielde
Than Vertue hath, yet Vertue shall enforce the beast to yelde.
Off shal his head from shoulders go,
Synne shall be sinne no more,
The monster Vice shall sure decay that long the svvay hath bore,
If you Mancinus Path ensue and follovv on [...]e vvay
VVhich he to Lady Ʋertues lodge and Palace d [...] display.
VVhiche though perhaps vvere harde to finde or eare he vv [...]t about
By curious search and tedious toyle to shevv to set it out:
Yet now it is so easie vvoxe by meane of his deuise,
As vvho so follovves hym shal come to Vertue vvith a trice.
As Ariadnas friendly tvvist and slender tvvine did shovv.
Duke Theseus in the doubtfull den vvhich vvay vvas best to go
From Minotaure misshapen beast, halfe man and halfe a Bull,
VVith gorie guts of murthred men that had his belly full:
Euen so Mancinus by this path vvill teache thee how to slie
The Labyrinth of lothsome sinne vvhere Vice and he do lie,
Delighting in the fall of man and feeding on his soule
As did that Fiende vpon the men of Athens in the hole.
And loke hovv much the soule excedes this earthly bodies masse,
So much the monster Synne the beast of Creta doth surpasse.
VVherfore let be our earnest care vvith ioyned hartes and hande
Against this Sinne on Vertues side vvith sworde and shielde to stande.
March on your vvay by Prudence Path, for there are men of wit
To make you shevv vvher Vertue dwells, a house for harbour fit.
From thence there lies a crooked vvay not easie to be founde
Without a guide and fellovv mate, a harde and rockie grounde:
VVhere ioyfull Iustice sitts in seate and avvefull rule doth beare,
A happie man is he that can dispatch and soiourne theare.
The iourney is not farre from that vvhere Fortitudo dvvells,
A famous Dame that all the rest in courage stoute excells.
Where vvhen thou happen to ariue, be Bolde and neuer blushe:
For there, there can no cruell care thy minde or carkas crushe.
When thou vvith these acquainted art, to Temperance take thy vvay,
And do vvith hir as farthest place of trauaile make thy stay.
For she vvill so thy doings guide and in such modest vvise
Applie hir care to thy behoofe as best she can deuise.
She vvill those luring Pleasures pinche, and sause their sugred tast.
VVith sovver sops for thine auaile, as thou shalte say at last:
Thrice happie I that founde a guide to enter in this path,
That to so good and blessed porte my feete conducted hath.
Then loke thou backe from whence thou camst and measure vvith thine eyes
Hovv hard a vvay from Prudence to the lodge of Temperance lies.
This, this assured is the meane to maister Monstrous Syn,
And conquere Vice, that by report this Tovvne of late did vvyn.
March on, let Mancine be your guide, if he the banner beare
And stately standerde in the fielde, you nede not stande in feare:
For he so vvisely vvill prouide and deale in ery case,
As if that Ladie Vertue vvere there prest hir selfe in place.
For eu'ry vice a Vertue he vvell furnisht hath in fielde,
For euery sinne a countermate to force the Foe to yelde.
So that though Syn vvere Hydralike and head of head did spring,
Yet Vertue should the Conquest gaine, and Vice to bondage bring.
The cōquest of Sinne.
Syn shall be subiect had in holde, the Conquest shal be none
VVhose great report of late yspread and rashly so vvas blowne.
Then (Reader) thou beholding art and must of force confesse
Thy selfe in debt to him that did this perfite Path addresse:
A meane to come vvhere Vertue sitts in pompe and princely Cell,
And teacheth men the vvay to liue and waste their ages vvell.
And thus with sute for pardon for this long discourse of mine,
My tale doth ende, my boke begins which (Reader) shal be thine.
Reade right, and deeme by due deserte, mislike not ere thou see
VVhat is the ende of this discourse that here I giue to thee.
If nought but Vertue be containde within this Treatise, then▪
I hope thou vvilt not iudge amisse, but thanke my friendly pen,
That did as vvell for profit as for pleasure this deuise:
No more, adieu, to reading fall of Vertue as it lies.
George Turberuyle.
Iames Sandforde in praise of the Translater.
IF warlike wightes for noble deedes earst don
Haue in rewarde and guerdon duely won
Immortall fame, renowne and glorie aye
not to decaye:
What then shall such deserue that set in sight
Things long time hid, in bringing darke to light?
Shall they not reape of their good sowen seede,
and haue their meede?
In warre and Peace Minerua beares the stroke,
To Science all the dore she doth vnloke:
Great is hir force in all the worlde wide
on euery side.
Great force hath mightie Mars in fight and fielde,
Much more Minerua hath, whose learned shielde
Doth sence in warre and peace the publik wealth
sauing hir health.
Who so learned Mineruas schoole frequent,
And haue their youthfull yeares in studie spent
Deserues immortall praise and fame to gaine
for taken paine.
Then worthie of rewarde is Turberuyle
Whose painfull penne hath thus to Englishe style
Conuerted learned Mancinus Latine Muse
for men to vse.
Herein is briefly tolde what Vertue is,
What life we ought to leade, what leades amisse
A worke of price hath Turberuile transposde
and here disclosde.
Therfore of God and man he well descrues:
For God hath Vertue made, and man it serues
To frame his life: commende the writers pen
thou Reader then.
Tutto per il meglio.
A plaine Path to perfect Vertue, deuised & found out by Dominik Mancinus, a Latine Poet.
The Induction to the Treatise folowing.
FIrst mightie God did make the heauen and sandie soyle below,
And did the Elements in place, and setled seates bestow:
Thē next he deckt with gleming stars the heauens face on hie,
With grasse ye groūd was trimly tirde and hues of euery die.
Vnto the fethred Fowles the Ayre he graunted for their home,
With fish he filde the flapping floods and byd them there to rome.
Then last of all he shapte a man full like himselfe to sée,
And made all liuing earthly things his humble thrall to bée.
With Reasons vse endued him ek [...], wherby he might be séene
To differ from the brutish beasts and sauage creatures cléene.
Then Man possessing Reason, and infeft with wisedomes lore,
Began to beate his braines about vnknowne things before.
Who, for he did forepassed things to present matters cast,
For certaine saw the afterclaps and what would chaunce at last.
And so p [...]uiding for the worst that might by happe arise,
(Well worthie as he was) he gat to be accompted wise.
And that selfe Reason eake it was that many leagues did make
And forced flocks of folke to ioyne for aide and friendships sake.
It caus'd the people to obey those wights that rulers were,
And (after Cities once were rais'd) of Lawes to stande in feare.
It bred vnto the childe the zeale and fathers friendly loue,
And to the rest that were allide as Nature did behoue.
And thence it cōmes that parents haue of them such carking care,
And thence that children reuerēce such as them begot and bare.
This Reason wills that one good turn should aske an other aye:
[...]nd bids that we at néede should helpe our friends the best we may:
[...]wixt people she and princely kings both league and truce doth knit,
[...]nd makes a loue twixt such as neuer were acquainted yit.
[...]nd they on whome aboue the rest God hath bestowde this gift,
[...]ore readie are to shew good will and for their friends to shift.
[...]o Curtesie twixt man and man confirmed was and gat
[...] greater force, by iustice so their Empires grew to state,
[...]d Kingly more became to them in Caesars roome that sate.
[...]esides from out this Reason in the minds of men there grewe,
[...] gréedie zeale the secrete parts of euery thing to view.
[...] bulte and sift so long about [...]pith earnest care of minde
Vntill they mought in e'ry thing the trouth and falshode finde.
Which when they had by Reson foūd, this Reason gaue them eke
A feruent loue vnto the thing which they before did seke.
For in good faith no pleasure is so great vnto a man
As, what in ery case is best, to iudge and throughly scan.
Which makes ye mind ful many time once hauing founde the trouth,
To flée for any daungers dread it is excéeding loth.
No churlishe chaunce, no painful toil the valiant minde subdues:
Ne to mainteine the right it will a present death refuse.
And thence the branch of Vertue that high Courage cleaped is
Procéeded, that protector is and guide to simplenis.
Of Reason eake the slenderst part we must not thinke to bée
That which doth gyue vs such deligh [...] on fairest things to sée.
For only man perceiues and viewes by wit and wilie brayne
What order is in ery thing, what beautie eke doth raygne,
And handsomnesse in Natures frame▪ which makes the wittie wight
When he beholds this worldes forme and hath his shape in sight,
Thus softly to himselfe to say: how much more beautie might
Be séene in things, if we our maners would conforme a right?
Wherfore the wise mans only carck his maners is to frame
Vnto the paterne of the things, and make his minde the same
And like in beauties comely shewe vnto the things he viewes.
And this is it that makes him shunne, the euill, and quite refuse
To spot his minde with filthy freakes but to beware and wise,
And flée excesse in all his déedes, and let no oddes arise
In ought he vndertakes to do, but deale in euery case
In sorte there may no want be foun [...] at all of time and place,
And this doth Tēperance take his roo [...] within the mindes of men,
Which fourthly here I minde to tou [...] and last of all with pen.
These braunches foure, & vertues ra [...] doth Honestie comprise:
Which all vnto the vse of Man from Reasons roote do rise.
And Reason from the mightie God and Prince of Princes came,
But common sort of simple men for Nature terme the same.
But (gentle Reader) take the choyse and say as likes thée best,
Or that it is dame Natures gift, or Gods if so thou list.
This I will vndertake of these distinctly to entreate:
But first of all I thinke it méete the Wise man haue his seate.
Of Prudence.
THe fyrst and chiefest point of that which Honestie is hight
Is falshode to discerne from trouth, the yll from good and right.
And this so passing well agrées vnto the kinde of man,
As nothing more beséemes than that, nor nothing lightly can.
For euery man hath such desire to learne and come to skill,
As nothing frō their knowledge should be hidden by their will.
With gréedie care man pondreth all, and paiseth in his minde:
To erre or be deceiued he thinkes it fowle against his kinde.
But he is wise that warely waites and siftes the matter so
As all his trauaile tends to this what Honesti's to know.
To th'ende to put the same in v [...]e. which best agrées with that.
But no man can discerne it we [...], nor recken what is what:
But he that measures out the same accordyng to his kinde
In euery poynt, and Reason takes for Iudge the right to finde.
A wise man will not euer déeme those things to be the best
Which other men allow and iudge farre better than the rest:
But such as séeme vnto hymselfe well worthie of the price.
But certes naythelesse he must beware in any wise
That Reason rule his wittie doome, let Sence obey and yilde
To Reason, as vnto his better doth a thrall or childe.
But that you may haue knowledge of the right with lesser paine,
Here orderly eche thing ensues to make the matter plaine.
Wherfore at first who so doth séeke to haue that Honestie,
Must make accompt in all his life two speciall things to flie.
The one thing is to thinke he k [...]es not that which he in dede,
Is skillesse of: he must not put the thing within his créede
Wherof he stands not well assurde, affying ouermuch
Vpon his owne deuise and wit as though there were no such.
For many things do hidden lie in darke and hollow [...]en,
Which is not to attaine with ease allowde the wysest men.
To such allow no light beliefe, beware of rashe consent:
For feare within a litle space thou happen to repent.
There néedefull will it be to vse a diligence and care,
And processe eke of time to know what kinde of things they are.
And peraduenture we shall be compelde for safeties sake,
To séeke a mayster to instruct what way is best to take.
In sundry things Experience eke will very much auayle
And counsell of a friende, that will his friende for nothing fayle.
In doubtfull causes sée thou séeke the trouth of either part,
That howsoere the matter fall, thou mayst auoide the smart.
'Tis not sufficient on the one side parcially to speake,
And for to leaue the other part both lame and ouer weake.
Nor is he to be compted wise that warely watcheth aye
The stingyng Adders téeth alone: for of the taile (they say)
And iawes he should beware alike, for either poisons sore.
So do, as that thou mayst not say I thought not this before.
For why it is a shamefull worde for any man to vse:
Nor let it thée beguile that doth full many men abuse,
That whatsoeuer thing they do presume or take in hande,
They thinke it altogether with right and honestie to stande.
And whilste they thus to flattring of themselues addicted are,
And seruantes to their errours blinde: they deme their wits so farre
To passe, that nothing may without their craftie compasse lie,
No Reason can preuaile to cause them lay their fansies by.
No arte can force them to forgo the thing they once maintaine,
They think their iudgemēt better far than Reason neuer so plaine:
As fathers ouer tender of their children, vse to praise
Their yll demeanor thinking that in them all reason stayes.
As when a Caruer cutts a piece or Poet makes a boke,
They take disdaine on Phydeas worke or feates of warre to loke:
So these their owne commende & like, and with a scornefull browe
Condemne an other mans deuise that wisedome would allow.
And all bicause the loue of that themselues do take in hands
Doth bleare their eies, & makes ye none with them in credite stands.
But that they loue themselues to wel: looke what they do possesse
Is orient perle, and glittering golde, all other mens are lesse
To be accompted than the filth that in the chanell lies:
With these is Reason quite exilde, these right and trouth despise,
They litle differ from the dumbe and sauage beastly sect.
Who so the things that common are by Nature, doth reiect,
And grudgeth sore to giue the same, what? can we déeme that hée
Will share of any worldly trashe his proper goodes that bée?
But yf so thou by Fortune chaunce to erre in thys respect,
As of thy selfe to make to much, and others to neglect:
Then mark thou wel with hedeful eye what holy men and graue
Do holde for good, and thinke it fit for thée the same to haue.
For many looking eyes by daye a great deale more can marke
Than can one blynded eye alone discerne or iudge by darke.
And when thou hast with good aduise thy purpose throughly scande,
Abandon all delayes, and take with spéede thy things in hande.
A number are so lumpish and of such a leaden kinde,
As, though they neuer way so much the vertues in their minde,
Yet are not to be compted wise: for why they leaue vndone
That part which is the chief of all where wisedome is begon.
Euen so the gréene and gallant boughs vpon the trée do bud,
But if they bring not forth their fruite in time, it doth no good.
Euen so the Souldiers march in field, and muster in aray,
But neuer come to handie cuffes to bring the spoyle away.
Euen so into the fallowde fields in vaine the seede is throwne,
Vnlesse with sithe thou sheare it down when it to head is growne.
For chiefest praise that vertue brings in Act consisteth aye:
And to consult, and nought to do is litle worth they say.
But yet he wants not vertues praise but is commended too,
That beates his braines about the best although he can not doo
Nor put in vre his purpos'd plat: For sicknesse hinders some,
And makes that they can neuer to their hoped purpose come.
Philosophers do well deserue both fame and praise to gayne,
Who by their writing well to vertues trauaile vs to traine.
There is an other vice beside, which is, long time to spende
With ouer earnest studie in such things as in the ende
Are rough, and not to be attainde: for sundry things are such
And so profounde, as nought at all they profite séeme to touche.
For to the ende they nought auaile or profit any whit
To bettring of our liues, although they vexe vs day and night.
Or if they mought do any good▪ or ayde vs to attaine
The scope it selfe: yet all the same I compte to be more vaine
And lesse auailing than the ende if it be sought alone.
What profit comes there by the search of mouing starres? thou foole
To learne the things, and cause therof why doste thou go to schoole?
Why couetst thou with earnest carke so many artes to know?
Or haue the skill how Countreys are disposed in arow?
Why dost thou ioy and long so sore by craft and wilie witte
The subtile Sophister to passe conclusions false to knit?
Or with a swéete persuading voice and pleasant processe tolde
Why doste thou couete so the poore and simple eares to holde?
If wyse thou be, no whit at all of these thou standst in néede,
More plaine and simple is it farre that thou shouldst learne in déede:
Do learne the way both well to liue and well to die the death,
These two alone are ours: we liue and loose at length our breath.
A meane and slender studie will instruct vs well ynowe,
It is an easie knacke the meane to either of both to knowe.
Wherfore at first behouefull is to wit the thing that may
Make happie thée, and in thy breast let it full firmely stay.
And therwith learn the middle meane and path that thither lies,
Which when thou hast once pased in, persist in any wise.
For many all their liues and dayes in learning it do wast,
But haue no gréedie minde or will to trauaile on at last.
What vailes to practise how to know the way, and there to rest? which when thou knowst thy shame is far more shameful than the rest
That neuer wist the way to good wilte thou the path display
To other men, and wilt meanewhile thy selfe go runne astray?
Wilt thou aduise by counsell good another man to that
Which yu dost leue vntoucht, as though thou knewst not what were what?
How vaine a practise is't the dayes and nights at worke t'haue watcht,
And by thy toile to profite nought when matters are dispatcht?
In vaine good faith our labour is and time mispent full sore,
Vnlesse the déede do folow that which was conceiude before.
Then since the Act is perfite ende of studie, more desir [...]
To work with wisedom, than to learn to knowledge to aspire.
And therfore not without a cause the Souldier stoute did scorne
Philosophers that all their liues in babling schooles haue worne.
For sayes the Souldier (master Sage) I pray you tell me, what
Auayles it you to crie so loude and chiding wise to chat?
You braule from dawning vnto darke from rising Sunne to night,
Yet neuer agrée: one flatte affirmes an other denies it quight.
The wise man answered, (O my son) we séeke that Vertue (man)
Which none with ernest study inough coulde euer séeke or can.
The Souldier smylde, what hast (quod he) thy head with heares so gray
And hast not yet to Vertue founde the readie path and way?
Why? whē then wilt thou vse ye same? what? hast thou any hope
To practise it in Plutos court? or there to haue such scope?
Wherfore do learne as much as thou mayst put in present vre,
And hauing learnde to fall vnto the Acte it selfe be sure.
It lies not hid, but vnto such as reache with earnest fist
It offers to be had, eche man may catche it if he list.
Besides a parte of Prudence is an Order to obserue
In doing things, from which a wise man neuer ought to swerue.
First way thou wel the gretest things and matters most of weight,
And then do place in seconde roome more lesser things and light.
It is no reason thou refuse thy wife and babes, to haue
A greater carke of plowing boy and of thy housholde slaue.
Ne lawfull is't thy life to way but litle, or thy health,
Whilst like a gréedie man thou goest about to hoorde vp wealth.
Loose not thy soule (I pray thée) whilst thou séeke for bodies cure:
For why? more precious is the soule, the body more impure.
Wherof should man accompt so much, as that he shoulde meane while
Neglect his soule, in whose regarde all treasure is but vile?
What mad man would desire in earth to liue a litle space,
And by the same in endlesse death to haue a lasting place?
And sure if due respect be had to wordles and endlesse yeares,
Thy life and age a moment then vnto thine eye appeares.
Haue aye regarde that him to whom thou most indebted art
Thou recompence in amplest wise: but chiefly yet in heart
And all before haue God in thought. for mindfull though thou be
In all respects beside, yet all is nothing worth if he
Be neuer minded but forgot. Haue not regard alone
Of present time, but what thy state shall be when life is gone.
What more pertaines vnto a man than in his minde to way
The afterclaps that if befall may hurte an other day?
But doubtlesse death and life againe shall happen after this:
Which either vs shall pay with paines or bring to better blis.
And that which comes in after time no certaine limites hath,
And so either endlesse is the ioy or lasting is the wrath.
But as this life is shadow like, and blast of winde to sée,
Euen so the good or euils she giues too short and slipper bée.
This place alone for pardon serues whilste we in earth do liue,
That other life with rigour right to euery man will giue.
More better 'tis some pleasant paines to bide and suffer here,
Than torment neuer stinting in the hellishe fire to beare.
That yoke is easie to the necke that with good will is worne,
But grieuous is the burden that vnwillingly is borne.
Here CHRIST with physike goes about our pained limmes to heale,
But there with dreadfull iudges face that gastly God will deale.
Accompt not that of any price or woorth pursute to bée,
Which passeth by in litle space: let that be sought of thée,
Which long will last in steady stay not fléeing by and by.
Nor let that filthie fading trashe within thy coffer lye
That with a turne of hande is reft not able aide to giue
In time of néede, vnable wares the owner to relieue.
By Iustice measure all thy déedes, nor though thou happen to
Be matcht with wicked wights, do not thy woonted trade forgo,
But kéepe thée as thou wert before let Iustice aye be one,
Although thou change as time require, the way that thou hast gone.
For often double is the path that to one ende doth lye,
And one perhaps is now shut vp, when the other way is hie.
Euen as the hand now stretcheth fort [...] it selfe by ioyntes awide
And then becomes a fist againe, yet one selfe hande doth bide:
So will a wise man aye be iust and euer at a stay:
Although he chaunge his countenance according to the day.
I would not haue thée light as winde, but euen as time shall serue.
And as the case requires, be constant still and neuer swerue
But not to hard, or to seuere, nor ouer hastily
Beleue thou euery tale that goes or credite euery lye.
He both deceiues him selfe, and eake beguiles an other that
Doth lende beleuing eare to euery man that loues to chat.
A wittie man should both abhorre: for often times hath bene
The thyng that fained was to sight and that which men would wéene
And take for truth hath fallen out a matter nothing so:
How often times doth truth in cloke of fained falshode go?
And falshode eke how often hath it lurkt to open sight
In shade and countnance of a truth, not euer lies are dight
Or beare their proper shapes and hues: and sundry times we see
That mere simplicitie is thought a déepe deceyt to bée.
And as the flattering fawning guest a friendly face doth weare:
So he that counsels well somtime a hatefull heart doth beare.
Of matters doubtfull giue no doome or certaine iudgement, but
So place your words as you the case still in suspence may put.
When ought thou mind to take in hād first ponder well in thought
How great it is, and what may hap when things ar throughly wrought.
If that thou minde to set vpon require no earnest hast,
Attempt it not with retchlesse hande, nor do it ouer fast.
Defer the thing wherof you doubt vntil such time you may
Haue certaine knowledge what it is: No damage comes by stay.
Beside, what so thou surely knowst vnrightfully begoon,
Thou oughtst of duetie to forgo and leaue it quite vndoon.
And if suspition chaunce to grow within thy doubtfull breast,
Do shift it of: but still beware thou be not then opprest.
Thou must in al thy talke what right and reason is, aduise,
Or séeke it out at least: for that in couert oft it lies.
Thou must vnto the simple sort what Honest is declare:
And shew the way: but those cōstraine that at commaundement are.
And eke no slender part of praise and vertue lightes on thée
If thou with comfort solace those in griping griefs that bée.
The wight that well deserueth praise not ouermuch commende:
Nor ouer sharply do controll the man that doth offende:
For he of flatterie bides the taint that to much praise bestowes:
And he that too much doth reproue a naughtie tongue of those
That hear his talk, is thought to haue. A greater care thou must
Haue of a truth than of a friende, be true and euer iust.
Before thou promise waigh thy welth, and what thou hast in store:
And hauing promis'd, kepe thy touch, and fully rid thy score.
Looke backe vpon the passed time, the future date forsee,
That like a wittie man thou maist do things that néedefull bée.
Forescan the profite and the paine that may ensue or ere
Thou do attempt, to thende thou maist missehaps the better beare.
Thou shalt not euer worke and toyle, sometime from trauaile blin,
And purchase quiet to the minde that it may rest within.
But in that vacant leysure time apply thou not thy paunch,
But with good learnings dayntie cates thy gaping hunger staunch.
Flée Idlenesse when so vnto thy néedefull rest thou go,
And practise then some godly thought within thy breast below:
Or else thy matters left vndone do ponder in thy braine:
For sure the quiete minde can then iudge matters passing plaine.
It forwarde setts the matter slackt, it doubtfull things conuayes:
The hard it softneth, maketh plaine the rough and ragged wayes.
Vnoccupied it not beséemes the wise mans witts to bée:
Although his hande hath layde aside his working tooles, yet hée
In minde must practise somwhat still. Haue not so great a carke
To note how other men offende, thine owne offenses marke.
Loue aye to learne, but not to force of whome thou takste the skill,
Let it suffise thée to haue learnde, let that content thy will.
Wexe ware and wise by others déedes, for oftentimes (they say)
Attaine the skill of matters great by little things we may.
What euery man will after be the tender age doth showe:
And of the life that is to come by one dayes sight we know.
Let not the Author of a worde or déede thée stirre or moue,
But as the thing it selfe requires and is for thy behoue.
Nor like not with thy selfe too well for that a number haue
A good conceite of thée: but learne where they be wise and graue
That do commende thy doings so. Enserch with busie care
To know such things, which lawfully to be ensearched are:
Learn that which law permits to lern, and wish to haue the thing
Which being wisht for openly▪ no shame at all may bring.
Beware of ouerloftie stall where feare it is to stande,
Or whence to come great daunger is. Take euer that in hande,
And theron beate thy busie braine that bréedes thée quiete rest.
Some things there are which if yu séeke to get, thou shalt be gest
Bothe wise to be and well allowde: but then thou must beware
When that thou hast attainde inough to holde thy hande with care.
When once thou gotten hast the welth that may supplie thy want,
Thē seke for that for which thou liu'st, for which thy God did graunt
Thée here to wast thy many dayes. Thou must not be a slaue
Vnto thy trashe and rotten pelfe, but them thy vassals haue.
Looke what thou wouldst not do if any man did thée beholde,
That do not when thou art alone: nor be nowhyt more bolde
Bycause no witnesse lookes vpon and viewes thy déedes the while.
When Fortune wt hir laughing brows on thée begyns to smile,
Then follow counsell most of all, let wisedome be thy guide.
For as the féete of him that standes vpon the yse will slide:
So wyll the wights that happie are the golden meane forget,
And can not stay where Reason wills that they their footing set.
Nor yet among the stormie showres the Barke doth more lament
When it amid the seas doth stand in perill to be rent,
Than Reason in prosperitie the happie man bewailes.
Wherfore when that a pleasant gale doth blow thy blessed sailes
Runne not at randon after lust, but séeke the safest seate.
Oft times in calme and quiete seas when no fell windes do beate,
Beneath the water lies the rock and cruell crushing stone,
And oft by them with rented ribbs the shaken ship doth grone.
Whilst sundry times ye bark doth bear his full and strouting sailes,
A sodaine showre with furious blast his pride and courage quailes.
None mindes to trap thée in the snare that vseth threatning stile,
But by his churlish checks doth make thée héedefull more the while.
The chéerefull looke and freindly face, the eye with wanton winke
Beguiles vs most: with syrops swéete we poison oft do drinke.
So smiling fortune many men by custome doth intrap,
Whom frowning to subdue before she neuer had the hap.
And thus is Prudence here displayde, of Iustice next we must
Intreate, that knits the wordle in loue and knot of friendly trust.
Of Iustice.
THis Iustice is a certaine knot of Nature, and a band
That wylls vs vnto many that we lende our helping hand.
So perfite and so sure a league twixt man and man it knitts,
As by this onely Iustice meanes mankinde in safetie sitts.
Demaunde not whether that shée bids bring profite yea or no:
For profitable sure it is how so the game doth go.
The chiefest part of Iustice is to render honour due
To God, that gaue vs all, and eke himselfe on trée to rue.
Therfore who so a Christian longs to be, and haue the name,
That chiefly he do loue his God is néedefull for the same.
And let him loue him so as he may well deserue agayne
To be belou'd and fauour fynde. And this he may attayne
That willingly will hinder none nor damage any man,
But pleasure all and profite eke as much as ere he can.
For so is God himselfe to men, that to no one denies,
Which liues on earth, the vse of sunne though he in wicked wise
Do leade a vile and beastly life and giue himselfe to lust.
Ne yet doth he deserue at full to be accompted iust
That profits none, nor any wrongs: for Vertue doth require
A déede wel woorthy praise to haue, that's Vertues chiefe desire,
She compts it not ynough from yll to haue the hande forborne.
Ne are we here on earth vnto our priuate profite borne,
But eche man bound to séeke the helpe for others as we may:
For men were men begot and borne was Plato woont to say,
To ayde eche other at néedefull times. but eu'ry man aléeke
Can neither helpe, nor holpen be: wherfore we must go séeke
And compasse how to do it best. for if by ayde of hande
Nor Moneys meane thou mayst assist or by thy neighbour stande:
Yet do by counsell what thou canst, relieue him with thy paine.
Beside, thou being strong of force the wicked mayst constraine
To hold their hands from hurting such as siellie Creatures are,
And be a meane that simple men may scape the subtills snare.
Againe, by good aduise and réede, by comfort and by checke
Thou mayst do pleasure many times to them that would to wrecke.
But yet in doing dueties wée must cast a hedefull eye
To Order, State, and eke Degrée: for Order certainly
To ery thing doth lende a shape and beautie passing fine.
As, first to God thy duetie do, then next of all incline
To profite of thy Countrey soyle respect thy natiue lande,
Then children and thy parents deare require thy helping hande.
And after these by blood allide and friends by office woonne:
Ne yet thou must the poore, the sicke or aged cripple shoonne.
But rather be to pitie mou'd: and eke among the same
If any passe in Honestie then sure thou art to blame
If those thou do not most regarde and pitie in thy heart,
And to their great and heauie néede thy friendly face conuart.
And they that earst haue holpen thée are to be holpe againe:
But then thou must remember that thou do it with a gayne.
Do follow, as Hesiodus did will, the fertile fielde
That to the Ploughman with increase the scattred séede doth yelde.
But yet thou must beware, that whilst for any one thou shift,
No other man therby thou do from seate and saddle lift.
Prouide and wisely watche beside lest whilst that thou art bent
To shew good nature, wealth do fayle, and then thou rap and rent
From other men their proper goods. For commonly (they say)
The wastfull Bankrupt forceth not from whom he take away,
When all his substance is consumde, then gets he yll report.
Commit no pillage to augment thy former state and porte:
No not to gayne a Princes crowne from Iustice swerue awrye.
And not alone the iust man must from force and pillage flye,
But eake abandon fraude and gile: to Foxes fraude doth long,
Vnto the noble Lion force, for he is passing strong.
But neither fraude nor force becomes a man in any case.
And sure is none more deadly than the man that beares a face
And siellie shew of simple shéepe, and is a woulfe within:
And hath his maners quite against the colour of his skin.
And not alone in déede, for oft in woords is wrong: as when
Thou dost obiect a fained crime to good and giltlesse men.
Pronounce the trouth with tong, & eke defende it euermore,
In sort as not by any thing thou set a greater store.
Nor do thou thinke that by a lie thou canst once false thy trouth,
But that therwith Religion quite is broken, and an othe.
For though that God for witnesse be not cited to the bande,
Yet not the lesse he aye in place of good recorde doth stande.
And if at any time at all it lawfull be to lie:
Perhaps it is that trouth may be apparant more therby.
And he perhaps that speaketh false his promise to preserue,
Perchaunce the same for all his lie a pardon doth deserue.
So plighted hest must ere be kept as Constancie be founde
In all our words, our promises with credite must abounde.
But so it happen may sometime as slender is the faulte,
To breake a promise firmely made or with a man to haulte.
As if I promise that to thée that will no profite bréede,
Or that which more will me annoy than pleasure thée in déede.
Duke Theseus coulde haue wished erst with all his minde and hart
That Neptune wold his promise broke when Hippolite in cart
(Vnhappie youth) was drawne about the cruell craggie clife,
Where he for no desert of his was reft his honest life.
Let not the Iust man blabbe abrode the secretes he doth heare,
Nor in vnlawfull matters let his tongue not dare to steare.
By doubtfull words bréede no debate nor quarell while you liue,
But rather certaine iudgement in eche thyng demaunded giue,
Or rather holde thy peace out right, when is no cause to chat:
For often doth the prating tong offende it knowes not what,
And wrongs it selfe, and others too. If thou in common weale
Do beare an office, and hast cause in such affaires to deale:
Or hauing store of houshold folks at home at meale and meate,
The partie that doth yll deserue let him be duely beate.
To be accompted ouermylde, it is no prayse at all:
For he that fauours one that doth amisse, will marre them all.
If any do offense, and thou be parciall to correct,
That thou art guiltie of the same we may right well suspect.
The Magistrate doth fauour faults that letts a matter slippe:
And too much fauour of the Iudge is called a gentle whippe.
He marres the multitude, and doth whole Cities bring to sacke,
That iustly doth not vse the scourge vpon the sinners backe.
He quite vndoes them: as the man that flings a fiery brande
Into a towne, or gate vnlocks when foes are harde at hande.
We can not call that Ruler good nor terme him as a King,
But rather such a one as plague and mischiefe loues to bring.
But yet in punishment of vice we must not Reason passe:
To keepe the meane in ery thing is good and euer was.
When so thou takst the rod in hande then be not to seuere,
As though at other mens distresse thou glad or ioyfull were:
But punishe sore against thy will as though thou were constrainde
Thertoo, and that thou didst lament his case that so is painde.
Beside if sundry sinne alike and in one poynt offende,
Release not one, and let the other be in prison pende.
Rewarde not these with rigor whilste thou deale with other well:
I meane of those that all at once of lawe in daunger fell.
Let like offense haue like rewarde: deale not in Fathers wise
With one, and like a cruel foe with tother. Spiders guise
Is to entrap in craftie webbe the litle siellie gnat:
But if there come a hornette huge or waspe that's weightie fat,
He crusheth downe the slender twist and makes a thorough wayes,
Whilst siellie flies in hanging netts the spitefull Spider slayes:
Euen so the poore and miser man the cruell law doth crushe
If he offende, but welthie wights through tiled trap do rushe.
If any doe thée wrong: let wreake but counteruaile the déede:
Séeke not to punish his offense no more than thou hast néede:
But if thou quite forgiue the fact and no reuenge doe séeke,
Thou art the iuster man for that, God thée the more will léeke.
Vnto thy seruants eake thou shalt obserue both law and right,
Gyue them their due, & looke that they thy Iustice doe requight.
For Nature them our brothers made. so that thou must suppose
That fowly he offends that past the bounds of mercy goes.
If so their crimes committed bée too heynous, ryd thy hande
Of them, or else be mercifull: but if the case do stande
Vpon some small and lyght offense, who can foresée to much?
Or who can deale with too great ruth if so the case be such?
And sithens we haue thus vnbard the gate of Iustice hall,
We will of Valiance next intreate that yelds to nought at all.
Of Magnanimitie.
OF high and noble Courage I that Man confesse to bée,
That in defense of honest name no daungers dread will flée.
But willing vndertake to do the hardest things of all:
He feares no man, he dreades no death nor ought that may befall.
No torment can the Noble minde, no yrefull threates subdue,
But onely sacred reason make him chaunge his will anewe.
But yet he will not rashely and in wilfull wise desire
The perill or the daunger, but as matter shall require.
For sure more fonde may nothing be, than for a man to put
His lyfe in daunger, where he mought auoyde without a cut.
That man is ouer braynsicke madde that safe and well at ease
Vpon the riuer, longs to launch amyd the mounting Seas.
He that his Countrey doth molest, or breakes the Common lawes,
That hym we Valiant shold accompt, there is at all no cause
But rather bolde and bedlim beast, rashe and vngodly wight
And any other terme that tongue can well deuise with spite.
Nor he Couragious that doth séeke his owne and priuate gaine:
But he that in his countreys cause doth offer to be slaine.
For sure there is no praise of minde no worthie feate in dede,
Lesse it from Iustice, and the loue of countrey soyle procede.
Nor lesse he liue vprightly, and plaine dealing vse, he can
Not gaine the name of Fortitude, or of a noble man.
Let not the tickling brute of thy good déedes thine eyes delight:
Let it suffise thée that thou didst atchieue the same aright.
For Magnanimitie hath aye respect of Honestie,
As for reports of giddie heads it forceth not a flie.
Nor he that doth depende vpon the brute of peoples braine
Deserues the name of valiant minde and Courage to attaine:
But he that coulde for go the thing for which himselfe doth long,
That man in dede is valiant, that man is truely strong.
Who so doth ouermuch delight in Titles of his name,
And with an earnest studie doth séeke out and search the same,
Is too too fonde and childish wight: for chiefly doth pertaine
To valiant Courage to contemne the things that are but vaine
Which common rascall much cōmend. the basest things despise,
The noble minde doth couete that where dread and daunger lies:
It thinkes that all these earthly things are subiect vnto him.
Not all that he doth sée with eye, or touch with other lim
But what wc inwarde mind he viewes for woorthy iewel takes.
Who so doth scorne the earth, and of his minde a heauen makes,
That man I noble déeme to be, that is a worthie wight.
But how can he be compted great and be of noble might,
That here belowe in earth doth dwell nor doth aduaunce his head
Vp to the haughtie things aloft but lies like one were dead?
Will any man denie that it pertaines to Noble minde
By vertue to deserue the seate that is to Kings assignde?
Then doubtlesse he is greater farre that doth deserue by déede
A seate with mightie God in skies on heauenly ioyes to féede.
Who will denie the man to be of force and famous, that
By cruell siege doth conquer townes and beates the Cities flat?
Then surely he is stronger much that by desert doth gayne
The stately fort of haughtie Heauen with Ioue to parte his raigne.
No toile or tedious trauaile can the valiant man dismay,
To cause that from his worke begoon he leaue or séeme to stay:
So let it loathe thée nought at all at heauen doore to knocke,
To th'ende the porter may at length the gladsome gate vnlocke.
The heauenly porter scornes of none that beates with willing fist:
Nor any yet that iustly crau'd his iust demaunde hath myst.
Wherfore go too, do neuer leaue thy wearie armes to lifte
Vnto the skies, since he at last will giue thy hoped gift.
Thou shalt attaine thy sute at length, ceasse not till all be done:
A worthie crowne is due to him that all the race doth ronne.
Nor do not thinke the ende to farre, for when thou thinkest least
That thou art there, thou hast dispatcht then shalt thou be at reast.
The Noble minde is neuer bonde or thrall, but euer frée
From all offense: and fellow loues to God and Right to be.
Nor doth it suffer riot, or vnlawfull lust to raigne,
But for to yelde vnto his force the Sences doth constraine.
No greater slauerie than to haue thy minde at Vices becke:
And sée that Beast to set his foote vpon thy yoked necke.
That is a perfite fréedom of the minde, whome to the yoke
May no alluring pleasure, or vnlaufull lust prouoke.
It meruailes not at any thing vnlesse it beare a face
Of Honestie, and stedfast be in one selfe roome and place.
It neuer yeldes to frowarde chaunce but constant euer bides:
And yll aduenture vnder cloke of merie countnance hides.
For sure the man of valiant minde doth force of no missehap,
But all good things doth déeme that he within his minde doth wrap.
And he alone within his minde compriseth eu'ry thing,
That day and night doth euer thinke vpon the heauens King.
He frames his coūtnance graue & wise, he lookes with boldned browe:
No hautie language makes him feare or causeth him to bowe.
It doth not well become a man of stoute and sturdie stampe,
To stare with sterne & glowing eyes and Lyonlike to rampe.
But rather haue a visage mylde and browe of friendly grace.
For why a Valiant man in déede not iudged is by face,
Or by his outward gesture demde: the déede it selfe is it
And mind that makes the Noble man. Thy selfe thou must not quit
And rid from publike office, for bycause thou standst in feare
A fowle repulse at peoples hand and sharpe reproch to beare.
For go thou not thy Countreys ayde because thou must withstande
With sword & shield, with tooth & naile thy cruel enmies hand.
For that is it wherby thy stoute and noble minde is tride:
That is the onely meane to know where thou wilt flée or bide.
But he whome gréedie goldes desire or beautie moues awhit,
Is not to be accompted stoute but rather wretched wight.
For though that filthie coyne to care enforceth miser men:
It can not so Couragious hearts and noble Natures blen.
There is no lesse or baser thing than is the wretched mynde,
That is a slaue to pelfe, and makes the eye of Reason blynde.
But he Couragious is and stoute that richesse can despise,
Content with poore and meane estate, where dread nor trouble lies.
Or if he haue the worldly wealth, that so it packing sendes,
As all his ioy consisteth in the aiding of his frendes.
Howe common is the saying of King Pyrrhus vnto those
That came from Rome to ransomhome againe his Romane foes?
Quod Princely Pyrrhus to the men that would the money tolde,
Giue me no great alluring gifts, giue me no glittring gold.
Let vs with sword, and not with coyn maintaine the cruell warre:
For men bright shining wepons méet, for Marchants iewels are.
A worthie worde for such a Prince of stoute Achilles line,
It well declard his Noble heart from lucre did decline.
No lesse of Courage Curius thou werte well knowne to bée
What time the Samnites offred vp their golden gifts to thée:
For rosting roots thou satst as then by slender fiers syde,
When foraine Legates did display their treasures full of pride.
More liefer is to me (quod thou) and rather do I wishe
To suppe of earthen vessell, than of such a golden dishe.
Wherfore conuey me hence in hast this golden trashe againe,
We will no golde, we rather choose in Princelike sorte to raigne
Vpon the men that owe the same. O words excéeding wise,
Declaring that such vaine delights this Captaine did despise.
Besides with force of bodies might behoueth him to stande
To perill, and the hardest things that are, to take in hande
That will be compted Noble, and of Courage great to bée.
But yet he must in any case beware, and wisely sée
He do not rashly ought attempt but followe Reasons skill,
And shoonne the thing with spéedie foote that witte and wisedome will.
Let him not venture on the thing that is beyond his might,
In sort that he him self therof can neuer well acquite.
For many times the Bayard bold beyonde his reache wil ronne,
And beares ye shame for want of power to ende his worke begonne.
But yet he must beware the while in vsing such delay,
That men coniecture not that he would gladly run his way.
For better is it farre to dye than lyue with taynt of shame,
Men rather should indure the death than bide the losse of fame.
Encounter not with any man but when of force thou must:
For sure to blade it, is a thing too beastly and vniust.
Warre not vnlesse it be to haue a quiete peace therby:
But in thy truce let no deceite or wilie Treason lie.
Nought more agrées to Noble minde than conquerde wights to spare:
In dooyng so with Godly kinde he séemes to haue a share.
It earneth not so great a prayse the rebell to subdue,
As doth to be of gentle kinde and Pities traine to sue.
The chiefest vertue Caesar had that bread his greatst renowne,
Was that he vsde no rigour to the captiues of the Towne.
The Lion stoute of curteous kinde hath Nature made to boyes:
It neuer hurts the yelding pray or humble Beast anoyes.
Fight not with any Foe vnwares, strike not behynde (I say)
For why that kinde of craft is it that cowards doth bewraye.
Pursue not any man with hate or rancour of thy harte:
For that of base and miser wights and wretches is the parte.
If any one vniustly speake of thée to thy defame,
Thinke with thy selfe his slander doth nowhit deface thy name:
Saue that his will was fully bent to hurte thée if he might,
But that his vile and cankred purpose fell not out aright.
For sure there is not one aliue that taketh hurt at all
Of any, lesse himselfe be cause the mischiefe do befall.
For no man once can touch the minde or secrete partes within:
Of any force that can befall thou néedst not force a pin.
And when so eare thou hast the power an others harme to frame,
Let it suffise thee that thou hast the powre to do the same.
For no reuenge a greater prayse dothe purchase to a man
Than for to hold his hands frō wreake when he most mischiefe can.
Thou shalt not with a secrete taunt or gyrde another nyp,
But if thou blame for any thing do it with open lyp.
A minde not giltie of offence, pure, simple, faith vnbroke,
Are they that make the Noble minde as wittie men haue spoke.
Vnhonest dealing, wicked life, and belly full of sin,
Ar things that make a fearful wretch, For when the minde within
Is neuer frée from foule offence, how can a man but quake?
The harmelesse heart no heauie care can sadde or sorie make.
What néedes he dread ye liues vpright? death should he feare awhit,
The gift that Nature hath allowde? by which he commes to sit
In blessed seate with mightie Ioue? of torment should he feare,
Whose cruel pangs in his behalfe our God himselfe doth beare?
Then wherof should he stande in awe, whome CHRIST defendeth aye?
And all the route of heauenly powers assist as well's they may?
Who could enforce the Martyrs earst for tremblyng feare to rue?
Who coulde by manace or by threates theyr Noble hearts subdue?
Not them could puisant Princes cause or tyrants hands to dred,
Not armies huge of myghtie force, nor ramping beasts vnfed.
Before the Rulers of estate youthes, babes, and siluer hearde,
And women, weake by course of kind, were neuer once afearde.
Not bended bow, nor bloodie blades, not brands of fierie flashe,
Nor readie handes with stéelie darts, nor fistes with fearefull lashe,
Not lothsome gayle, nor famine long, not thirst or other paine,
Not burning oyle, nor scalding pitche, not boyling brine in baine,
Not golden gifts, not kingly crownes, nor Princes daughters vowde
In holy bande of mariage theyr constant purpose bowde.
And not alone the parents glad their children coulde abide
To sée amid the scorching fyre, or on the gybet tide:
But also (which is more than that) the louing dame hir selfe
To yelde to torments would persuade hir weake and wretched Elfe.
The brother would to brother giue his counsell in the same,
And wife exhorte hir spouse to bide both fier, sword, and flame.
Who can report those martyrs were by death yconquerd? No,
They rather Conquerors (good faith) became by dying so.
There is not any thing aliue more strong or sturdie than
The world, the earth, and loftie Skies to yeld to force of man.
Like blessednesse vnto a man, or pleasure can not bée,
As (mightie God) to quite resigne the worlde and die to thée:
And that not by the sworde alone, or tasting of the death,
But die to thee by scorning of this fleshe and filthy breath:
And yet remaine aliue and quick among the wordly wights,
Not forcing on the fickle ioyes, or foolish fonde delights.
The man that with the sword is slaine is sure but once to die,
But who so tames his froward fleshe a thousand deaths doth trie.
Nor ery man that doth desire or couete in his harte
To die by sworde, can of the sworde be slaine or haue his part.
The sworde is euen a grace of God: and whomsoeuer he
Vouchesafeth to accept with sword dispatched so to be,
That man vndoubtedly in kynde is next to mightie God.
But now inough my wandring Muse hath rangled farre abrode
In large discourse of Noble Mindes, nowe time to blowe retreate:
And with a luckie marching foote the other path to beate.
Of Temperance.
I Haue of Noble Courage sayd, both purpose place and time
Of Temperance do will me nowe to write in perfit Rime.
He temperate may well be termde and calde a modest man
That bridle motions of the mynde with Reasons snaffle can:
And kéepe Decorum in his words, and eke in erye déede.
Wherefore that such a one thou be (I tell thee) thou hast néede
Thy wishes well to thinke vpon, and what thou wilt request:
Pursue the good, and long for that, and let alone the rest.
Those things are good that simple kind and Nature doe require,
Not that wherto Ambicious mind and Pride would faine aspire.
The man that owes and hath himself, not many things doth misse:
He déemes he hath suffising store that hath hymselfe ywisse.
He euer flowes & swimmes in welsh, and greatly doth abounde:
We can not say he lacketh ought in whome this store is founde.
For eche himselfe may by himselfe and of him selfe suffise,
If so he doe possesse the good within him selfe that lies.
But he that déemes his owne too scant, and séekes for foraine stuffe,
A misers life doth euer leade and neuer hath ynuffe.
For though his store be neare so great yet he in minde doth craue
A thousande other things beside, and greater heape to haue.
But he (vnlesse I be deceiu'd himselfe possesseth, and
In good assurance of himselfe sans other helpe doth stande
That wittie is, and can discerne the things that néedefull bée.
Euen as the man whose corps without default of limmes we sée
Is compted perfect bodie whole: and eke contrarywise
He taken for a maimed man that lackes one of his eyes,
Or wants a nose, a hande, or foote, a legge, or other limme:
Euen so the wight whose inward mind and wits are woxen dimme,
And can not sée what Reason wills for Errours foggie cloude,
Is compted not to haue himselfe, nor for a man allowde.
Wherfore at first possesse thy selfe, hunte not for forayn things,
What can be thine, when that is not that next the bodie clyngs?
A wittie man hath great desire disease away to driue,
And other hurtfull things to be the longer time aliue.
Who will of purpose poyson sucke or tast of venim vile?
Who falleth headlong in the dike that may bestride the stile?
No sure, if any by mishap or fraude of other sup
Of poysoned dishe, to Phisick streight He bends to belche it vp.
If by misfortune any breake his leg, or ioynt it out,
The Setter of the bone is calde and poasted for about.
And those that bleare we running eyes haue phisicke for the same:
And more than that, if so by hap thy lumpishe Asse be lame,
Thy self on foote for Smith dost runne a Vulcan must be had
To shoe the Iade, and heale his héeles his legs are wrapt with wad.
Then why if any griping griefe thy sense and soule possesse
Séekst not with care to cure the same and quickly to redresse?
For how much more the Mynd ye corps in Noblesse doth excede,
So much the more regarde the minde than doth the Bodie néede.
O, to what purpose with such toyle and trauaile dost thou drowne
Thy corps, & make in doubtful whéele thy Soule to runne so rowne?
Why day and night in feruent heates dost thou thy body broose,
And dost meane while thy better parte and chiefest member loose?
Fie, too vngodly, cruell, and vnto thy selfe thou art
Extreme, that with the propre hands dost bréede the propre smart:
Why dost thou mash thy mind within so many nets, from out
The which thou canst not rid it, though thou willyng go about?
Sée how it wakes the day in care and night in noysome woes,
And like a thing prickt on with spurre vnquiet forth it goes.
And thou full like a Tormenter with curst Bellonas scourge
The sielly flying soule and hurtlesse minde dost dayly vrge.
What? better were it not for thée the losse of hande to haue,
And that wherby thou waxest wise, in dayntie sort to saue?
Or than to loose the part, from heauen that was allotted thée,
Without the which with other beasts thou mightst compared bée?
How false and frayle is all thy hope both liuing here and dead,
If so that member be alacke that ought to be the head?
Wherfore especially thou must the sicknesse of the soule
Remoue, that nothing want, and that thou mayst be perfect whole.
Direct the same by rightest wayes and plainest pathes, that he
Full well may do his duetie, and the wittie guide may be.
But (Gentle Reader) to auoide the being ouerlong,
Accompt that these vnto the Soule and perfit Minde belong,
To hope for that alone which still is sure to bée a stay,
And such a great surpassing good as neuer will decay.
To feare that beyng once befalne for euer and a day
Will hurt, and such a thing as none relieue with succour may.
To follow with an earnest care, and studie all such ioyes
As no discase doth daunt awhile or furious face anoyes.
To sorow that displeasure whom no pleasure doth ensue,
Or by the meanes of whome decayes both life and health to you.
Force not of other things at all, but of an hostage as
Thou woldst accōpte frō whēce in hast the guest would gla [...]ly passe:
But rather as a burden deeme and grieuous paine in minde
The things to be that stoppe thy race, or make thée stay behinde
The Trauailer both car [...]ge should and carefull sicknesse shunne,
That luckily hee may his course and pointed iourney runne.
And sure this Life is euen the Path wherin we dayly pace:
But tother is our Countrey, or of fowle Exile the place.
If so it bee our Countrey, then assuredly we shall
To Grandsyers, and our blessed frends in peace to soiorne all.
But if Exile and banishment to vs it chaunce to bée:
Then downe we goe to dungeon déepe where is no game nor glée,
But yelling cries and clamours great, and neuer wasting flame
Appointed things for due desert the sinfull soules to tame.
Those passe into their countrey, that by meane of wittie braine
And Reason, ridde themselues of yll, and did the Good attaine.
But they contrarywise Exile doe suffer, that aliue
In errour dwelt, and in the trade of Vertue coulde not thriue.
The Minde doth rouing runne astray, as often times as it
Not gouernes, and doth sée the good, but followes not a whit.
But nowe we haue digrest too farre, the cause doth will retreate,
And eke our Methode byds vs of our matter to intreate.
At first of all our meaning was of Motion of the Minde
That Tēperance hight, to tel our tale and of the Modest Kinde.
In this shall all my talke consist, this vndertaken charge
As plainely as we may my Muse and I will sette at large.
Decorum chiefly doe obserue and note with earnest eye:
For sure no slender force within his séemely boundes doth lie.
And this Decorum double is, that modest mindes possesse,
One generall and common kinds the other somewhat lesse.
The common kinde is it that links with Honestie in all
And ech respect, and can not from his side or footing fall.
This more apparant is to sight and to the eares, without
This generall Decorum can be nothing good, no doubt.
It is naught else at all but euen agreement of the things
Which men do, wel and wisely worke thence this Decorum springs,
And as the forme dispersed is the bodie quite throughout,
And is not yet the body but a shape set on without:
Euen so with Honestie and right, Decorum doth agrée
It beautifies the good with shape and makes it fayre to see.
And as the Bodies seemely shewe delightes the lookers eyes,
And makes them maruell how it could he wrought in goodly wise:
So doth Decorum moue the minde, and makes it maruell much
How that the beautie of the things should happen to bée such.
Thy selfe (good Reader) better mayst within thy minde deuise
The Nature of the same than I in Metre it comprise.
The other kinde of decentnesse is that assuredly,
Which hath his chiefe respect vnto that part of Honestie
Which guides the proper motions of the Minde euen as it list
And it in habite, gesture, and in measure doth consist
In voice, and bashfull blushing hue, robes, time, and séemely place.
This makes yt thou dost stand so great within the peoples grace,
A welcome wight to ery man thys causer is of thee,
That such report and noised brute In ery place doth flee.
Nor do thou scorne or set at naught what men of thée do déeme:
'Tis yll the iudgement of the worlde so litle to estéeme.
Allow and listen to theyr doomes, for he is compted prowde
That doth disdaine that aught besides his owne shoulde be allowde.
There are yll fauourde things that do the Mindes of men offende:
As Arrowes wounde the body when the Archer list to bende
His crooked bow, and shoote his shafts with nimble hande away.
And such as do offend, the parts of shamelesse men doe play:
But those that offer force of hande are too vniust we say.
And not alone Decorum in the Bodies outwarde show
Is to be kept and well obserude, but in the Minde also.
It is an easie thing the Minde to frame and fashion fit,
As long as Reason rules the rost, and in hir seate doth sit.
Or (though by happe she be displaste a litle) if she get
Hir olde and sacred roome againe, and raigne deuoide of let.
Here first of all from filthie Ire thou must in any wise
Refraine: for it both inwarde minde, and countnance doth disguise.
What sight more lothsom cāst thou sée or looke vpon with eye,
Than one that is in pelting chafe and angrie moode? for why?
Full like a Boare he fomes at mouthe whome Curres haue cruell made
With baulyng barkes on ery syde: or like a bedlam Iade
That wyll not easily bide the bitte. Assuredly wée can
The partie that in Anger is not thinke to be a man.
For then he waxeth out of kinde a sauage beast outright,
And like a frantike man inragde he lacks his Reason quight.
And after Anger once is calmde, he then repents him sore
That he so like a senselesse man behau'd himselfe before.
A meane this mischief to auoide is at the first to cast
And wisely scanne within thy breast what cause of wrath thou hast.
Euen as the watchman sitts a loft to spie his cruell foe
In turrets top, for feare he doe oppresse him ere he know:
So good attendance must thou giue lest anger come vpon,
And do inuade thée ere thou thinke such fretting malice on:
And going out of doore as though thou wouldst to fielde to fight,
At threshold claspe thine armes close in eu'ry point aright.
And furnishe so thy selfe about as though thou stoodst in feare
Of rouing thieues, that layde to spoile the goods in ambushe were.
But if so be vnwares thou fall into the well of wrath,
Sée that thou be not plungde too long within that beastly bath:
And do meanewhile with fretting fist no foule offense correct:
For why outragious Anger of the meane hath no respect.
Detest excessiue crueltie, haue euer that regarde,
Reuenge for charitie, but do a gentle paine awarde,
Especially yf father thou thy children punish: he
That is a father ought vnto his children good to be:
He should not haue a heauie hand, but light, with litle smart.
And where as Kynde within thy breast hath grafte a gentle heart,
Detest thy rawe and hungrie rage of fleshly sauage sort,
That with their teeth to teare the pray doe thinke it passing sport.
Agayne, you must in any case auoide and flee away
From Motion that contrary is to Anger, that in play
And to much daliance doth delight. For Nature neuer made
A man to iest, but she requires of vs a grauer trade.
Let all thy wordes to profite more than to a pleasure tende,
Deale most in earnest, but in iest thy winde but seldome spende.
Yet Nature doth not quite denie a man to sport and iest:
But yet to holde the golden meane she thinkes it euer best.
It is not séemely too too grim or ouer harde to bée,
And reape but hate for solemne lookes: nor yet for to much glée
To be despisde and had in scorne. By Iesting do not craue
Vaingloriously throughout the Town a Iesters name to haue.
As we allowe the wearie man a tyme of quiet rest,
To ease his pensiue pained limmes with labours long opprest:
Euen so with seldome prettie iestes thou mayst refreshe thy wit,
But then thou must so place thy words and sayings, as may fit
And best agrée with grauitie. Sée that thy iest be suche
As may both honest be estéemde, and ery way may touche
Both honest shame, and good deuise, and Witte in ery case.
Besides when time requires thou shalt not rashely runne thy race
As bedlam Roges do vse to do, or like a posting slaue.
Let all thy Iestes be weightie, and thy iesture very graue.
Let not thy voice be ouerlowde, goe not to fast aboute,
For feare thy hastie pace offend and trouble all the route.
Beware in any wise thy wordes no Anger doe prouoke
Or heauie chéere to any man: let nought that thou hast spoke
With bitter girding breede offence. With rankling tooth to neare
Let not thy babling bite or touch the man that doth it heare.
Ne doth my writing Laughter barre, so that in modest meane
You vse the same: for otherwise it spills the countnance cleane.
For too muche laughing marres ye looke for boyes is laughter fitte,
And gigling dames that Reason want and haue but slender witte.
Who so at theft doth girne and laugh and thereof makes a game,
Or smiles to sée an others harme, is very much to blame.
In Playes auoyde the filthie gaine: for certainly by play
Is nothing got but wasting yll the golden time away.
If yong thou be in lustie age and hast thy limmes in prime:
Some painfull practise doe deuise to passe away the time,
An exercise to trie thy force: but with discretion vse
The same, and do beware thou do no limme or member bruse.
I sundry times haue séene an olde man play and vse disport,
But yet (good faith) it hath bene all in good and sober sort.
But neuer saw I in my life a youth delight in game,
Of whom I could conceyue that hée to good would euer frame.
When thou with studie wearie art, and that thou hast a will
To solace, cope with learned heads, and men of tried skyll.
For conference both holesome is, and eke increaseth wit.
Do bridle bothe thy mouth, and Venus parte with pinching bit,
At randon neuer let them runne: for he that loues to féede
Too muche, and Venus mynion is, he is a beast in déede,
And onely but a Man in name, for shape accompted so,
Bicause he doth from place to place in manly person go.
What? ery man may soone suppresse Cupidoes flames, if he
Withdraw such things as to the fire in stéede of faggots be:
Or if he neuer beate his braines, and fire his fonde desire
On things that are by Nature apt to stirre that scorching fire,
Not taking in too many cuppes: if thou be wise take héede
Howe to the doubtfull skirmish thou with Venus dost procéede,
Or fight to much with bellie fare. List not at all to trie
How honest and howe sober thou couldst by a Thais lie.
When Wine and Women are at hād trust not thy force to much:
For fire will quickly take the towe if it the towe doe touche.
When so thou list to conquere sinne and beastly liuing, fight
Not neare at hande, but haue thy foe a greate wayes off in sight.
Let wanton mates not enter in thy house in any wise,
Doe barre thy doore with biggest bolt: for sure no safetie lyes
In coping with such hatefull guests, they neuer will away
Without the conquest till they doe thy fotted carcas slaye.
No triumph in this doubtfull case is to be had or woon,
Vnlesse we shewe the foe our héeles and from the battaile roon.
And sure (a maruells thing to tell) the Palme alone is due
To him, and he is Victor that in poast from fighting flue.
But if so thou by Fortune chaunce Cupidos thrall to bée,
Redéeme thy selfe in all the hast: thou néedst a slender fée
Or summe to raunsome home againe thy selfe if thou be wyse,
Shake frō thy neck that seruage yoke that on thy shoulders lies.
Vse force, and flée: for stay is full of daunger out of dout,
The longer stay, the worser state. And who so goes about
To flatter Madame Venus, he shall suffer greater smart,
And feele the flame the hotter farre that fretts the Louers hart.
And since thou art a man by kynde of sect and séede diuine,
As God is farre from fleshe, so thou from fleshe must farre decline.
Though thou in secrete do offence and no man sée thy face,
Yet thou as witnesse euer gainst thy selfe dost stande in place.
Why dost thou more than of thy selfe an others presence feare?
Since thou a witnesse in thy breast against thy selfe dost beare.
It litle skills where any see thy doings yea or no:
For day and night thy Conscience of erye thing doth knowe
In all estates the lust of fleshe a foule offence is thought,
But more vnséemely in an olde and Aged man is nought.
For why? the white and siluer heares the witlesse youth should guide
By Counsell and by good aduise for feare they wander wide.
And therfore ought they al theyr talke to frame so wise and graue,
In presence of the youth, as they of them may honour haue.
For this in former passed times was Age in honour had,
For this alone the Fathers were accompted graue and sad.
But on the other side againe let youth do reuerence
To aged Syres, and [...]y to them be succour and defence.
When ancient Syres to Court do go, or on the holy day
To church, a rout of youth should then awaite them on the way.
And make their choyce among them al whome ech doth fansie best,
And whom he could content himselfe withall aboue the rest.
For sure it is a perfite signe of Vertue in a man,
To reuerence an aged wight in humblest wise he can.
Let youth with pacience fall to paines to make their bodies harde:
From Wine & Women but they must in any case be barde.
Let grosse and homely be theyr fare no dainties in their dishe,
The belly must be fillde, but not as much as throate coulde wishe.
Let neuer yong men haunt the Cooks where curious Cates be mest,
Let that suffise them that at home in Fathers house is drest.
No, neither when they come to age and youth is gone and past,
Let them be ydle and vnwrought, or filthie pleasure taste.
For who denies but aged men may many things dispatch?
Let them or write with pen, or at their studies haue a snatche
As soone as they returne from Church, when seruice time is past:
That exercise is good as long as morning Sunne doth last.
But let the Boy be then at Booke and lesson learne by hart,
'Tis easie to inforce a childe from studie not to start:
He easily will beare the yoke. but do not force awhit
Although he can not worde by worde his lesson well recite.
For séede that in the soile is sowne lies hidden long below,
And many monthes is vnder grounde, but yet at last doth grow:
And all the while in bellie of his mother Earth it lies,
The want of humour in the séede. the moistie soile supplies.
Likewise what so the childe doth lerne and takes in tender yeares,
In after time when age comes on the frute it selfe appeares.
Let graue and decent be thy wéede, be modest in aray:
For feare thy outwarde garment doe thine inwarde kinde bewray.
For sundry nice vnmanly men by nice attire are spid,
And by that meanes breakes out ye bile that was in couert hid.
The filthie whelke and bladder redde appearing on the skin,
Declares vnto the lookers on the blood corrupt within.
Thinke that such nicenesse appertains vnto the womans kind:
And yet I can not praise the wench in whome that vice I finde.
Extreme or ouer great to be. wherefore if so thou haue
That fault, imbrace it not to much, nor doe thou euer craue
To haue it if thou once be frée and quit from such a vice:
For sure it is a filthie thing a man to be too nice.
Both womans wede and wanton gate refuse in any case,
And thinke that they are euer apt mans Nature to deface.
Fye, shame vpon it, what is more against our manly kinde,
Than vnderneath a womans wéede the shape of man to finde?
Yet let thy garments handsom bée not sluttish, lest the Fame
And common rumour yelde to thée a fowle and filthie name.
Kéepe thou amid the two extremes: ne, though thou haue no store
Or great excesse of welth, thou must a slouen be the more.
For neither must the poore man goe too sluttish in his wéede.
Nor doth the man that barrs thée from this nicenesse here in déede,
Persuade thée to be ouer rude, or to vncleane aray:
But highly doth with all his heart commende the middle way.
What so comes nere ye two extremes vnséemely is and yll:
The Middle is the Vertues place, there she is planted still.
Let simple cheere content thy minde not bankets costly dight:
Such chéere as well from famine may thy emptie belly quight.
Sufficing let thy table bée, let pleasure not redounde
Therin to much, but euer there let meate inough be founde.
Let hunger be in steade of sause and stirre the stomacke vp,
Delight thou not of syrops swéete deuisde by arte to suppe.
Force not thy chaunge of dishes, but for holesome victuals séeke,
And rest content with cates that erst thy Fathers olde did léeke.
Nor do accompt so greatly of the Kitchen glorie, but
Thy whole delight and studie in a sober dyet put.
Ne shalt thou be so sparefull as a Niggards name to get,
And cause that ery man on thée his hatefull téeth shall whet.
Be not seuere in slender things, nor séeke to set no lawes
In sort to bannishe mirth, and bée of drousie dumpes the cause.
For trifling toyes full many times a great rebuke do bring:
And yet from thence doth slender gain and litle profite spring.
And where Decorum many parts and causes hath, the best
And chiefe consistes in that we know Decoru [...] how to wrest.
For not in ery time is one selfe thing allowde for good:
As Proteus Monster sundry shapes did shift in one selfe hood.
Looke what became and fitted youth in gréene and tender yeares,
For aged Syres vnséemely shewes, [Page] full soone the oddes appeares.
State, Office, time, and present age a difference great doe make,
And causeth thee what earst became vnseemely now to take.
And what a priuate man before thou likedst well, as nowe
To Office calld in common weale thou must not once allowe.
The furious phrase thou vsde in field encountring with thy Foe,
Behoues thée nowe a quiet man in Citie to forgoe.
If bending thou to aged yeares in practise doe delight
That fitted youth, assure thy selfe thou swarust from Duetie quight.
And whē thou art wel stept in age if then thy maners bee
Not altred, but wc youthful pranks and pageants doe agrée,
Then dost thou wax a Mōster sowle whome men of right should flée.
In youth thou wishte to come to age and siluer heares to haue:
So now thou shouldst another life and other hostage craue.
Well may we laugh the Sot to scorne that in his latter dayes,
Much like a babe in cradle clowtes doth fall to childish playes.
Loke how thy priestly garments do from others disagrée,
So much differring ought thy life from other mens to bée.
And how much higher is thy roome and office, so much more
Thou oughtst thy maners to regarde than thou wert wont before.
Doe not as common sort of men, since fewe or none at all
May match with thée: to higher things and déeper matters fall.
If thou in place appointed be of Lyon stoute to sitte,
Then be a Mouse no more, but doe as is for Lions fittte.
And sithens CHRIST hath thée endude with Eagles gleaming eyes,
Dyg not the groōd as Ants are wont, but viewe the loftie skies.
When earst a souldiers life thou ladst thou threwst thy darts apace,
Now being Souldier vnto Christ in stede of darte and mace
Take vp his Crosse, & fight therwith. When Phisicke was thy Art
Thou dydst by Phisicke banish griefe from ery lymme and parte:
But nowe a Shephierd waxen thou thy siellie flocke shouldst féede.
The Shephierd watching all the night of folde doth take his héede
For feare the fowle & fretting Woult with harshe and hungry iawe
Do crushe his Cattell, and conuey the fleshe into his mawe.
No, neither is it thought inough a man himselfe to saue,
But that he must as great regarde vnto his cattell haue.
And he that with his proper life can take it well in grée
To loase his flocke, deserues frō folde and roome remoude to bée.
A number chalēge Shephierds names and woulde be coumpted so,
But falsly they vsurpe the same as do their dealings show.
For neither haue they any carke of weake and hungrie flocks:
Nor though thei had, thei could do more than stones or woodden stocks
As touching pointes for Pastors fit. 'tis seldome where to sée
A Shephierd well content with that he hath: although he bée
As full and throughly stuft as may his swollen belly holde:
Yet long his gaping guts to féele a farther tast of golde.
Besides to keepe Decorum full and eary way to hit,
Thou must respect vnto thy kinde what Person best will fit.
For where as him it well becomes to set his Countnaunce sad,
It best beséemes an other man to looke with visage glad.
And if that one will counterfaict a sadde and solemne grace
And looke demure, a man shall shape a Woodcock by his face.
And if that other fall to mirth and vse a gamesome glée,
It fits but yll vnto his kinde, it will vndecent bée.
One gentle is and curteous wight, his talke is ioynde with iest:
An other can not frame with dumpes a passing pleasant guest.
This man is simple, full of truth, and loues to stande with right:
An other hath in curious talke and filed phrase delight.
Wherfore let eche man follow that wherto his kinde agrées,
Especially in that wherin no Vice at all he sées.
To marke the wittie Husbandman I thinke it not amis,
That grafts his grifts in ery soyle as fitte and gréeing is.
For first he notes the perfect Kind and Nature of the grounde,
And wher he thinks y• plāts wil proue with plants he setts it rounde.
In hilles aloft the Vine is plast, in vale the Alder trée:
The Oliue in a drier vaine, for that dothe best agrée.
Where colde and chillie is the ground the Chestnut he is pight:
The fat and blacker earth is it where Apple trées delight.
The grauell and the Sandy soile the Franckincense doth loue,
And in the harde and stonie plot the Citron Pome doth proue.
With mount the Peare can best away in Moore the Willow growes:
The Plane trée waxeth soonest big where Water freshly flowes.
Wherfore respect thy proper Kinde and to thy Nature cleaue,
For ery mans becomes him best, all others natures leaue.
Indeuour by thine owne deuise and wise forecasting braine
To purchase Glorie, others gifts contende not to attaine.
For looke what starres allotted haue can no man well auoyde:
Nor, what the Planets doe denie, can euer be enioyde.
Eche thing followes his propre kind.
When will the fearfull waking Hart do way his quiuering dread?
When will the Bull the Lion match for all his horned head?
When wil the Lamb not fear ye Wolf? or take him for his foe?
When will the sharp & prickeard Foxe his kindly fraude forgoe?
When wil the Hare not dread ye Dog? or stande of Houndes in awe?
When wil the Moorecock leaue to diue with Fishe to fill his mawe?
The coleblacke Crow shall neuer sing so swéetely as the Swan,
Although he crie with clearest pipes and pleasantst note he can.
The Goate will not forgo the woods but treade the yuie trée,
The slender legged Frog will still in plashe and puddles be.
The wofull Turtle neuer will from dolefull dities blyn,
But aye bewaile his louing Make when he doth once begyn.
A man that sayes against the haire to practise any thing
Is like to him that would his ship gainst Tide and water bring.
And certes who soeuer thinkes agaynst the streame to sayle
May stande assurde his fonde attempt can neuer long preuaile.
For when his fainting elbowes yelde and armes giue vp, the Tide
Doth beate him backe as fast againe vpon the other side.
So often he that cares not for his owne, but couets most
For other mens, gains neither theirs and yet his owne hath lost.
And sundry times the Gnuffe ye gripes a thing full fast in fist
For gréedinesse of nouell praie, both this and that hath mist.
If Praetor thée or Tribune will to take vpon thy backe an Office, in the which thou dost both skill and practise lacke,
As thus perhaps, to tell a tale and preach in open presse
Where thou but litle Grammer hast and Rhetoricke much lesse:
Then well consider thou before, séeke learned mens aduise,
Learne that wherof thou hast no skil, let labour helpe the dise.
So that although thou canst not win renoume or Noble fame:
Yet that thou mayst auoide reproche and scape from slanders shame.
What kinde of life thou vndertakste pursue and follow still:
Vnlesse thou haue good Reason why thou shouldst exchaunge thy will.
And do it so as other men may sée the Reason why
Thou from thy olde and former trade on sodayn so dost fly.
Be not vncertaine like the winde, but as occasion lies
Chaunge thou thy purpose and intent: be sayd in any wise
And constant, but beware thou be not marride to thy minde
And ouerthwart, as many are of vile and rebell kinde.
For doubtlesse (this I know for sooth) is most assurde and true,
'Tis compted lightnesse for a man to chaunge his trade anew.
But if so it be rashly done, then shame ensues the déede:
And when thou mindst to chop, beware of ouerhastie spéede.
For sodaine chaunge doth euer make men wonder very sore,
Suspecting what the cause should be of chaunging euermore.
When thou art callde to Office, shift away thy priuate minde:
And thinke that thou to be the head of many art assignde.
For then by thée the people speakes, thy tongue and theirs is one:
By thée the people heares and sées, thou art their stay alone.
Wherfore good reason is it that their profite thou prouide,
To whom the publike Office hath appointed thée a guide.
The Common profite euer ought to be preferde of right
Before a priuate members gaine. The Officer should quight:
Forget and be vnmindefull of him selfe in any case,
Thē haue regard what best besemes a man in such a place
Possessing seate of awfull rule, change wéede and woonted face:
I meane behauiour vsed earst before thou borste a sway.
The Praetor many things forbids, and so the Consul may
Which priuate men can not controll. besides the Place and Time
Allowe not sundry things for good which are withouten crime
And good at any other stemme. Pericles chafed sore
With Sophocles that was his mate and selfe same office bore,
And worthily rebuked him bicause he did beholde
A pretie boy, when he of lawes his tale and sentence tolde.
But if so be his fellowe had in fielde or wrestling place
Done so, Pericles to haue chyd would neuer had the face.
Wherfore as in a Lute the strings and fretts do all agrée:
To please the longing eares of them that listen to the glée:
So Person, Tyme, the Place, the Age and ery thing beside
Must all accorde, and as it were bée all in one allide
In him that publike person beares. The Priuate man likewise
Must practise Iustice with his féeres, not studie how to rise
Or séeke to presse his equalls downe, and vnder foote to treade.
Yet would I not a Citizen persuade to put his head
Beneth his girdle that is not his better in estate,
And whom the Common lawes allow his fellow and his mate.
Be not so simple sotted as to beare away the scoffe
Or be despisde of any man, or naught accompted off.
And whilst yu woldst be gentle thought and of a curteous kinde,
Take héede thou be not ouermylde. let none haue powre to fynde
Ambition lodging in thy brest or boldnesse ouermuch:
Submit thy selfe, but not to low, be egall vnto such
As are thy péeres: ne yet despise inferiours vnto thée,
And with good will do honour those thy betters farre that bée.
Yet stande not too too much (I say) of higher Powres in awe:
For he that leades his life vpright hath néede to feare no lawe.
O God, howe great desire should dwel within thy heart of right
To haue a conscience clere from sinne that feare abandons quight.
Be not seditious, but with all thy powre do practise peace,
For that is it which causer is that Publike weales increase.
Do honour due and reuerence to such Estates as bare
The office earst, and such as now do wield the Common care:
Yea eu'ry such as bruted is to be of Vertues bande.
It is a goodly matter for the childe in awe to stande
And reuerence of his auncient Syres, and such as parentes are.
If thou by fortune trauaile from thy natiue countrey far,
And make abode in foraine Towne, deale not in any case
Or medle once with any rules or customes of the place,
But to thy priuate businesse haue thou respect for aye,
Least any (stranger pack thou hence) by happe to thée doe saye.
Nor if thou be a Townsman and within the Citie borne,
Thou shalt no Pilgrim séeme to hate or of a straunger scorne,
But yelde good entertainment vnto all that come and goe:
Be friende to all that trauaile, and not once to one a foe.
For he that cuts the Strangers throte or currish is to those
That trauaile Countreys, leaues to be a man, and headlong goes
Into the boundes of beastly kinde. For why Lycaon was
A Woulfe estéemde, bicause that be for crueltie did passe,
To forainers that chaunst to come where he his hostage helde.
Thinke ery burden to be borne that thou mayst fitly weld:
But all vnhonest filthy things may not be borne withall.
For sure a fowle vnciuile thing the bearers necke doth gall
As yoke doth pinch the heyfers throte. Eschue the thing that gaines
An yll report, and the with fréekes of filthie rumor staines.
Thy shamefull partes of Nature thou shalt couertly conceale:
For Kinde hir selfe doth will thée so in honest wise to deale.
When so a Player comes on stage he ties his trinkets harde,
For feare if ought should fal, the plays Decorum should be marde.
Then suffer not for very shame a scaffold vice that may
Vnciuile be by reason of his licence in the play,
In Ciuile nurture thée to passe. beleue not such as déenie
That eary word that they do speake doth passing well beséeme,
But do eschue in any wise and filthie language flée:
Especially in open place when men giue eare to thée.
For shamefull talke doth wel declare the speaker of the same
To be a man from Reason farre, and quight abhorring shame.
But if by hap of force thou must and matter so require,
To tell thy tale in clenliest wise by circumstance desire.
For lothsome language pierceth déepe into the inwarde part,
And doth torment the quiet minde and well disposed hart.
Detest it as thou wouldst a thing that Carrionlike did smell:
Or as an Isie place where none can fasten footing well.
For filthy sauours noy the nose, the slipper Path the féete:
But beastly speach the maners marrs that else would séeme discréete.
Let none presume in things wherof he hath no perfect grounde
To chat, for present may be some that will his words confounde.
Let him that little Latine can in Gréeke not wade to farre,
Nor him that smatters Greke trāslate olde Maro, lest he marre
The grace and beautie of his verse: Let him that studies lawe
Not meddle wyth the Physicke Arte for feare he séeme to rawe.
Besides a handsome iesture must obserued bée in gate.
For ery man beholdes him well that goes abrode: the state
Of all our maners many times is déemed by the same,
And men that want Decorum there do beare away the blame.
The going shewes the mindes conceit. Let not thy gate be slowe,
Nor do not with too quicke a foote or pace too hastie goe:
But vse the meane amid them both. It likes me not at all
Thou stalk like him that bears a messe of gruell to the hall:
Or like the maide in solemne sort that to the temple wendes
At dauncing day, when she to choose a fellow mate intendes.
But yet I woulde not haue thée vse such posting hast as might
Both make thée pant & want thy wind, or fall downe hedlong right.
And eke thou shalt as great a part of good Decorum sée
In talke and language, and as much for that commended be.
When so among thy fellowes thou thy tale dost happe to tell,
Let not thy voyce be ouerlowde, for that agrées not well.
But in assemble to pronounce when so thou hast a cause,
To th'end thy tale may perce their eares do stretch awide thy iawes.
Yet vtter plainely all thy words with voice both lowde and shrill,
For Nature and thy helping hand that purpose further will.
If so thy matters be of weight, seuerely set thy grace:
If light and of importance small, vse swéete and smiling face.
In iudgement sharper than in talke looke that thou euer bée:
Let life be more seuere than lookes, doe learne this rule of me.
Do sause thy talke with pretie iest, and yelde with willing minde
Vnto thy fellow, looke a prayse for doing so to finde.
Sée that thou euer blase a trouth, but not to scolding fall
With any man, of force thou must obserue a meane withall.
For sure sufficeth thée to say thy minde is nothing so:
Vse no contentious talke with hym in any case, altho
He doe defende the other part. Vnto thy fellowes harke
Whē thou hast sayd, 'tis shame for thée alone to bawle and barke.
If any stande in stubborne sort maintaining nought at all
But falshode, yeld, for feare your talke to greater mischief fall.
Although the tale which any man in presence mindes to tell
No whit delight thy curious eares or fansie passing well:
Yet trouble not the rest that would giue eare vnto the talke,
But rather paciently endure all others tongs to walke,
And doe but seldome speake thy selfe. If thou be sad by kinde
Reproue nor fynde no fault with those that are of mery minde.
Despise thou none for that thy selfe in wisedome dost excéede.
But rather ayde them if thou mayst by good aduise at néede.
In speaking euer doe beware and wisely looke about,
For feare the sicknesse of the minde by babbling burst not out.
Nip no man in his absence, for (no doubt) 'tis traitorlike,
A man that is not ware of thée behinde his backe to strike.
But rather looke wher whilst thou dost an other sharply touch,
Thou doe not by the selfe same meane controll thy selfe as much.
What so they are thou speakst vnto do curteously entreate:
The lesser sort thou shalt not scorne no more than of the great.
But rather trauaile and thou canst to beare a shewe and face
As though thou madst accompt of all: this prouerbe taketh place,
Who so doth lone, is loude againe. by curteous language we
Must chiefly couet in good will of ery man to bée.
But most of all our frendship olde must be respected still:
And greatest care must aye be had to maintaine first good will.
Demaunde no question sharply, nor with curst and cruell worde,
And eke thy selfe demaunded shalt an answere milde auorde.
Dispraise nor praise not any one for vice or vertue more
Than Reason wills: a meane is best, kéepe still the meane in store.
So like or else condemne, as he that heares thée may not say
Good faith thy iudgement is but yll, thou wandrest farre astray.
Thou shalt not like the better with thy tongue in that thou dost
That spitefull sting into the limmes of men in absence thrust.
For ery one both markes the man and hateth him that railes
Vpon a man behind his backe and with his tongue assailes.
Do euer flée the flattring guest, nor flatter thou at all:
For both offences grieuous are, nor this nor that is small,
When other speake thée faire & smooth haue euer this in thought
That those good fellowes gladly would for litle price be bought.
But when thou spekest an other faire, he will for such a friende
But litle giue that proues him but a gloser in the ende.
Accompt no more of great report that wicked wights bestowe,
Than if the cause were yll wheron this great renoume did growe:
But thinke it praise that naughtie men deuise in thy defame,
The chiefest praise is to offende the beast that liues with shame.
'Tis harde to stoppe the open eares against the pleasant call,
And that was euer compted yet the greatest praise of all.
No other Syrenes sure they were that wise Vlysses guylde,
Than smooth & plesant speaking tongs with falshodes cunning fylde.
They, they are Mōsters great inough to trap the wisest man.
Thou euer more must stande in dread of pleasant language than
Of rougher spéeche. For spitefull tong doth aye discouer vice,
Whē gleining marchāts cloke ye crime and cog with craftie dise.
The pinching griefes that men diseasd do féele, they séeke to heale:
But such as neuer ake they scorne and tender neuer a deale
But die therof or eare they thought such mischiefe would befall.
The woūd ye shewes to outward mark the Surgion will with small
And litle cost procure to health: but that which hidden lies
And rankles déepe, beguiles the man that is accompted wise.
Do not desire, but as thou art, at any time to séeme
Among the people, couet not that they of thée do déeme
More than in déede is reason why. Thy déedes and noble race
Thy valiant prowes, thy grandsyres great bring not so much in place,
Nor séeke thy linage to aduaunce thy selfe extolling so:
For sure it yll becomes a man his proper praise to showe.
Nor is it séemely for a man an others friends allide
And Gentrie to deface to much therby to quaile his pride.
Let raging rancour neuer cause or malice moue thy braine
To go about anothers fame or good report to staine.
Nor if thou couet great accompt of wisdome, go about
Nor be the sounder of thyne owne good déedes, to sette them out.
For as no man of Reason will his follies blabbe abrode:
So neither should his vertues by himselfe at all be showde.
The tale (they say) is nothing worth but yelds a beastly smell
(Much more vntrue) that any in his proper praise doth tell.
But couet rather so to deale as men may blase thy déedes,
That thou a myrror mayst become to Age that thée succéedes.
But he that blabs his beastly déedes and makes them knowne to all
And tells his filthie trade of life, a frantike foole wée call.
And whether it be true or false that he reporteth so,
He well deserues on Gallow trée to hang to féede the Crowe.
But if thy fortune frame in sort that thou vnknowne dost liue,
And dost deserue a greater fame than any man doth giue:
Then somewhat in thy proper praise (with Modestie) thou mayst
Declare, but euer kéepe a meane in ery thyng thou sayst.
Make men to vnderstand if ought that famous is doth lye
Within thy skill: but do procure them no offence therby.
For no man vnder bushell putts a candell bearing light,
Or nearer than he ought vnto the thing applies his sight.
Vainglorie by no learning séeke that harbours in thy braine:
He is vnwise that longs for that, All glorie is but vaine.
For whatsoeuer thing we doe accomplishe worthie fame,
It is not wée, but CHRIST, our King that doth atchieue the same.
Wherfore to him is glorie due this boldly may we say:
For holy Fathers of the Church so vse in Church to pray.
Then certainly the glorie that we men on men bestow
May vaine and light accompted bée, and fitly termed so.
When so thou happen to controll or rate a man for yll,
Séeme not to do it toucht with wrath, but for a méere good will.
For oftentimes the bitter guest that chides in angry moode
Doth profit nought, the pleasant man is he that doth thée good.
For he doth more a thousande folde instruct and teach the way
To vertue, than the chiding Carle that cruell words doth say.
Who so vpon an Error doth vnwittingly amisse
Deserues a pardon at thy hands: but say vnto him thus,
That if he doe in after time commit the like againe
He shall be so releasd no more but bide the sharper paine.
Then if thy wordes preuaile no whit but that within a space
He do the like offense againe, then put him in a place
Assignde to tame such retchlosse Roges clappe fetters to his shanks,
To stande assurde he shall no more go play such beastly pranks
Procéede not ouer far in chaufe, behoues thée too beware:
Be not too sharpe or curst to those to thée that strangers are.
If thou be wise doe deale therein as cunning Surgeons play,
Who for to heale do swap the dead and rotten flesh away:
So thou pretending good to doe thy frendes with wisdome rate,
In séeking to reforme their faultes procure thy selfe no hate.
Wherfore controll but now and then be seldome in a heate:
Vnlesse there be committed wrong, and when none other feate
Or way will serue the turne so well as chaufing will in déede.
If any do the like againe to thée do take good héede,
Accept his warning well in worth: to him that for good will
Doth monishe thée, vse no outrage no worde or language yll.
For if vpon good reason he hath chidde thée, then no doubt
He did thée good: if not vpon good cause, yet went about
And minded he but well therin although thou déeme not so.
At any time when so thou art defamed by thy foe,
Or that he whet his rankling tuskes against thy good report:
Deale wisely with such bedlam beasts in grane and sober sort.
Oh, how much doth thy subtil foe vnweapned daunt thy pride,
When so he causer is that thou from good demeanor slide?
Let from thy wise and sober lips no word vnséemely fall,
Though he vnciuile beastly man in currish wise do braule.
Besides to voide the mischiefe, and to stinte the strife begon,
Digresse thou from such brauling flat and to the purpose roon.
Deale in such sort as vnto thée may no man iustly say,
What? (stop my frend) you rāgle now returne againe I pray.
And when thou séest that irkesom is thy processe ouerlong
Vnto thy felowes, shut thy pipes and ende thy lothsome song.
Séeke not the loftie Marble house beset with pictures braue,
But couet aye the lodge where thou thy perfect health mayst haue.
And whether thou thy selfe dost builde it vp, or buie the same,
Prouide it such a one as best vnto thy vse may frame.
For sithens Houses builded are to onely vse of man
Let eche one get him such a roome for profite as he can.
Thou must not séeke for pleasure of thy house so trimly dight,
But rather in the beautie of thy secrete Soule delight.
Whom if thou clense (no doubt) it wil straunge odours yelde to thée,
Wherin thou mayst such solace take as shall best liking bée.
And where as in thy house thou stayst but for a litle space,
Both day and night that other is to thée a dwellyng place.
Then, let it bée thy onely care to decke it passing fine
With precious perfumes swete to sēse do make it freshly shine:
In sort the owner may not by his house so famous bée,
As may thy house and dwelling place accompted of by thée.
It is vnséemely that a man should horow all his praise
From lodge wherin but for a time and straungerlike he stayes.
But let the lodging somewhat ayde the maisters good report,
And helpe as much as lies in it to set to shewe his porte.
But take good héede the saying olde be not applyde to thée,
O Lorde, how far this Owner, and this house doe disagrée?
For oftentimes my selfe haue heard men say, and that of late:
O worthie auncient house, how muche diminisht is thy state?
Again in Countrey build thy Graunge no greater than it should,
But kéepe the custome aye therin, a Coate to banishe colde.
Thy hand, thy iesture, lips and lookes doe gouerne in such wise
As men may well discerne the thing within thy breast that lies.
And all such iestures as thou déemste in others fonde to bée,
Accompt it will not very well vnto thy kinde agrée.
But if thou doubt at all therof, go séeke thy friends aduice
That will instruct in ery poynt what most agrées with vice.
For so doe cunning Painters deale and Poets of the best:
They aske how other men do like their Pictures lately drest.
Besides to gayne a heape of wealth and to increase thy store,
Thou shalt not follow filthy artes at any time the more
But euer shoon the b [...]stly gayne whence hate and enuie springs.
Wherfore thou shalt not kéepe a Port to looke and search for things
That passe frō thēce to forain Realms: nor Fulkers trade ensue
By taking money for the loane as though it were thy due.
Thou shalt not follow Butchers craft in shambles leading life,
For gain to knocke the bullocks head, and cut his throate with knife.
Thou shalt not play the Hukster, for these Artes that I haue sayd
Are vile, vncleanly, base of kinde, and nothing to be wayd.
And all those other trades of life are to be compted vaine
That all in worke consiste, and nought in beating of the braine:
And that for money are to bye, which witte can neuer bee:
Wherfore doe force no one of them if thou be rulde by mée.
There restes no wit in ought that is set out to open sale,
No good increase of knowledge comes by Bellyfare and Ale.
The Dicing Dick, and Daun [...]ng boy pursue no honest trade:
The Pedlar eke that beares his packe himselfe for lacke of Iade
Is nothing to be compted, or the Mercer that doth buye
And sells his trashe within a while doth vse full oft to lie,
And like a periurde patch doth prate and all to get a gaine:
And sure than him that is forsworne can nothing be more vaine.
For why he crafts with man, and doth yea God himselfe despise.
But if so be that one become a Merchant man, and plies
His matters so as wealthie he is woxen by the same,
And hath his storehouse full of wares, he doth deserue no shame,
Nor worthie is in my conceite a foule rebuke to beare,
But rather praise for doing so if he at last forbeare
His merchants trade and fall to plough and waxe a Countreyman:
For better than the tillage of the soyle there lightly can
Be nothing or of greater same, that takes so litle séede
And yeldes againe such great increase to pleasure vs at néede.
This trade of yore the Noble men that Conquerours became
Of taking of the plough in hande and culter did not shame,
They neuer blusht to breake the soyle: the Romaine Court did call
The Fathers that appointed were to rule and gouerne all,
And fet them from the Coūtrey Coat: and he that is as now
The Consull, bearyng all the sway of late did driue the Plowe.
Of all the other trades I know Physitions beare the bell,
And he is worthie praise that builds a house for men to dwell.
To buie an office be not thou too quicke or sharply set:
But when thou hast it frankly giuen or offred thée, do get
And take it yelding worthie thanks. Beléeue not ery lie
That rumor spreds, or brute doth cause in open ayre to flie:
For often vile and wicked heads no trouth at all deuise.
And many times the naughtiest men in smooth and simple guise
Do blaze vntrouthes to wrong y• good: as much as lies in thée
Confounde and do resist their trade, and what they say do flée.
And what they doe, in any ease do barre it by and maine.
Indeuor in thy happie state to be in pleasant vaine:
For then thy powre doth serue thée best then mayst thou pleasant bée,
Yea, though thy welth be sōwhat short goe hunt abroade for glée,
Least euery man accompt of thée as of a miser wight.
Beware when thou lamentst thy haps thou neuer do recite
Commodities of other men: lest they doe déeme that thou
Dost spit and swel at their good lucke whome Fortune doth allow.
Be earnest euermore to learne, but sée thou force nowhit
What one he is that doth instruct so he do teach thée right
And hauing skill impart the same to such as do desire
With gréedy minds to light their torch or candle at thy fire.
Remembre that thy selfe didst learne of other men before.
My Muse Thaleya holde thy hande, procéede (I say) no more,
But ende thy vndertaken worke: if ought be left vnfolde
When better time hereafter serues thou shalt at full vnfolde.
Do pardon (Reader) if that I my race too farre haue roon,
For sure my Muse did meane thée well when I this Booke begoon.
A Path to Pleasure thée alone, a Meane to finde the way
To perfect Vertue, where she sitts and kéepes this earth in stay.
Finis.
G. T.
The Translater to the Booke.
FArewell thou litle booke an other mans and mine,
The Gods allowe thée blessed hap, report without repine.
Well mayst thou liked be. and so thou shalt I trust,
Of such as Vertue do imbrace: as for the rest thou must
Appoint vpon as foes. I meane the sinfull sect,
That neither thée for Vertues sake, nor Vertue will respect.
Was neuer man that wrote of Vertue yet a whit
But Enuie would with malice séeke his trauaile to requite.
But force thou not at all, be bolde and neuer blushe:
For Glorie euer gaines the byrde where Enuie beates the bushe.
Sith thou of Vertue dost and nothing else intreate,
I know thy foes are friends to Vice, with wrath and yre repleate.
With them thou hast to deale: thou knowest the wonted sawe.
The Iade will kicke at him that rubbs his backe if it be rawe.
Then sith thou prickst with pen the galled backe, be sure
Thou shalt despite, in steade of loue of wicked wights procure.
For trouth doth purchase hate, and reapes that fruite for gaine
A bad reward for good desert. But wotst thou what againe?
The better sort of men will like thy purpose well,
And ring thy praise by good report as loude as Larum bell.
If be that pende thée first, and brought thée forth to light
Could finde in heart to hazarde thée to hands of fowle despite:
Why should I more accompt to kéepe thée vnder wing
That onely phrase for phrase translate and verse to Metre bring?
Thou art no new deuise, the wéede wherin thou were
Is somewhat altred, but I trust Mancinus néede not feare
Or stande in doubt of thée, he shall not loose his right:
I would not go about to wrong a Romane if I might.
But for desire to make Mancinus better knowne,
I toylde anewe the soyle that he with painefull plough had sowne.
I trust he shall not loath our mother tong at all:
Mancinus is Mancinus still I trust and euer shall.
And thus to ende my tale I wishe (thée litle Booke)
To doe no worse than him that doth vpon thy Vertues looke.
IMPRINTED AT LONDON in Knight Rider streate, by Henry Bynneman, for L. Maylerd.