The Times' Whistle Or A Newe Daunce of Seuen Satires, and other Poems: Compiled by R. C., Gent. [i.e. Richard Corbett]. Now First Edited from Ms. Y. 8. 3. in the Library of Canterbury Cathedral: With introduction, notes, and glossary, By J. M. Cowper |
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Scilicet vt fulvum spectatur in ignibus aurum, Tempore sic duro est inspicienda fides. |
 | The Times' Whistle |  |
Scilicet vt fulvum spectatur in ignibus aurum,
Tempore sic duro est inspicienda fides.
A certaine man which great possessions had,
Had likewise store of friendes; as who's so mad
To think that friendship doth not wealth pursue,
Though for the moste part fainèd & vntrue?
This man of wealth (though seld it soe be found
In a young man) in iudgement did abound,
And him bethought a way his friendes to trie,
How they would serve him in extremity.
He kills a calfe & ties him in a sacke,
Whom vp he takes & carries one his backe;
And then straightwaies vnto his friendes he goes,
And in this manner doth his minde disclose.
“My friendes,” quoth he, “your loves I now must trie,
For friendes are truly prov'de in misery;
Vnlesse your succours doe my life defend,
I am in danger of a shamefull end.
Knowe, in my rage I have slaine a man this day,
And knowe not where his body to conveigh
And hide it from the searchers inquisition,
My house being subject to no mean suspition.
Healp me, good Sirs, in my distressèd state,
Since thus to you my griefs I doe dilate.”
“Depart,” quoth they, “from vs, you are a stranger!
We mean not for your love to bring in danger
Our goodes & lives; should we a murder hide
'Twould even by sencelesse creatures be descride.
Your friendship thus distainde with innocent blood
We doe disclaime. While your estate was good,
And your selfe free from danger of the lawe,
The fatnesse of your purse had power to drawe
Our wealth-pursuing loves; but you must knowe,
Our friendships with your fortunes ebbe or flowe.”
Had likewise store of friendes; as who's so mad
To think that friendship doth not wealth pursue,
Though for the moste part fainèd & vntrue?
This man of wealth (though seld it soe be found
In a young man) in iudgement did abound,
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How they would serve him in extremity.
He kills a calfe & ties him in a sacke,
Whom vp he takes & carries one his backe;
And then straightwaies vnto his friendes he goes,
And in this manner doth his minde disclose.
“My friendes,” quoth he, “your loves I now must trie,
For friendes are truly prov'de in misery;
Vnlesse your succours doe my life defend,
I am in danger of a shamefull end.
Knowe, in my rage I have slaine a man this day,
And knowe not where his body to conveigh
And hide it from the searchers inquisition,
My house being subject to no mean suspition.
Healp me, good Sirs, in my distressèd state,
Since thus to you my griefs I doe dilate.”
“Depart,” quoth they, “from vs, you are a stranger!
We mean not for your love to bring in danger
Our goodes & lives; should we a murder hide
'Twould even by sencelesse creatures be descride.
Your friendship thus distainde with innocent blood
We doe disclaime. While your estate was good,
And your selfe free from danger of the lawe,
The fatnesse of your purse had power to drawe
Our wealth-pursuing loves; but you must knowe,
Our friendships with your fortunes ebbe or flowe.”
Thus severally he all his friendes did trie,
And had from them this or the like replie;
At last he cals to minde a man of fashion,
With whom his father held much conversation
Whilome he livde, & oft had heard him praise
His friendship, prov'de in divers hard assaies.
To this as to the rest the young man hies,
And in like manner his fainde griefe discries;
He for his fathers sake, which was his friend,
Sweares he will doe his best his life to shend.
The body then he takes, & meanes to hide;
Vowes secrecie, what euer doe betide.
“And if,” quoth he, “you 'le on my faith relie,
I 'le keep you safe from the world searching eye,
Vntill this gust of danger be o're blowne,
Which threatens death, if that the fact be knowne.”
The man reioycing in his friends firme love,
Sayes how he did it but his faith to prove,
“And now,” quoth he, “by giving of false fire,
I have found out the thing I doe desire,
A faithfull friend, vpon whose trust I may
My life, my landes, & all my substance lay.”
Then vp & tels him all the project plaine,
How the dead body was a calfe yslaine.
The other, wondring at his pollicie,
Resolvèd straight a knot with him to tie
Of never-dying friendship to their end,
Thus each to other was a perfect friend.
Mean while the other from him he removde,
Whose fainèd love sufficientlie was prov'de.
And had from them this or the like replie;
At last he cals to minde a man of fashion,
With whom his father held much conversation
Whilome he livde, & oft had heard him praise
His friendship, prov'de in divers hard assaies.
To this as to the rest the young man hies,
And in like manner his fainde griefe discries;
He for his fathers sake, which was his friend,
Sweares he will doe his best his life to shend.
122
Vowes secrecie, what euer doe betide.
“And if,” quoth he, “you 'le on my faith relie,
I 'le keep you safe from the world searching eye,
Vntill this gust of danger be o're blowne,
Which threatens death, if that the fact be knowne.”
The man reioycing in his friends firme love,
Sayes how he did it but his faith to prove,
“And now,” quoth he, “by giving of false fire,
I have found out the thing I doe desire,
A faithfull friend, vpon whose trust I may
My life, my landes, & all my substance lay.”
Then vp & tels him all the project plaine,
How the dead body was a calfe yslaine.
The other, wondring at his pollicie,
Resolvèd straight a knot with him to tie
Of never-dying friendship to their end,
Thus each to other was a perfect friend.
Mean while the other from him he removde,
Whose fainèd love sufficientlie was prov'de.
| The Times' Whistle | |