University of Virginia Library

Of the Arte of Poetrye.

A Paynter if he shoulde adioyne
vnto a womans heade
A longe maires necke, and ouerspred
the corps in euerye steade
With sondry feathers of straunge huie,
the whole proportioned so
Without all good congruitye:
the nether partes do goe
Into a fishe, on hye a freshe
Welfauord womans face:
My frinds let in to see this sighte
could you but laugh a pace?
Pisoes truste me, that booke shalbe
muche lyke vnto this same,
Whose fancies lyke a sickemans dreames
so rudelye hange in frame,
That heade and feete do square from th whole.
Poets, and painters aye
Haue had lyke charter to attempte
all kynde of worke (you saye).
I know, I craue this libertie,
and geue the lyke also.
But not that matters wilde, and mylds
without reason should goo
Blended as one, seynge Poets may,
this leaue they do not fynde
Serpents with byrds, Tyger with lambes
to ioyne againste their kinde.
To bigge beginnings, and vauntynge
ofte tymes a purple clowte
Of words impertinente is brought,
to helpe the matter oute:
When wooddes, Temples or riuers course
which hastely doth glyde,
When rushing Rhemus is descriude,
or rayne bowes painted pride.
Such babble (God wote) needed not,
but sum of that sorte be,
There common place, and theame is still
upon the

This prouerbe grevv vpon a badd painter, that could paint nothinge but the Cypresse tree.

Cypresse tree.
If that sum man would haue strange things,
and geson geare depainted,
How can he earne ought in such case
that is with nowghte acquainted?
Let things be formall of one kinde
and do not chop it vp
To make tone part a gallon potte,
and tone a prittie cup.
The more deale of vs Poets, both
the olde, and younge most parte,
Are ofte begylde by shewe of good,
affectinge to muche arte.
I laboure to be verye breife,
it makes me verye harde.
I followe flowinge easynes,
my style is clearely marde
For lacke of pith and sauerye sence,
Write loftie, thou shalte swell:
He creepes by the grounde to lowe, afrayde
with stormie vayne to mell.
He that in varyinge one pointe muche
would bringe forth monstruouse store,
Would make the dolphin dwell in wooddes
and in the flud the bore.
The shunning of a faulte is such
that now and then it will
Procure a greater faulte, if it
be not eschewde by skill.
Our blacke smith Imus oftentimes
in brasse will vndertake
The nales and hayres of sundrie men
righte conninglye to make.
A much vnhappie workmanship
which neuer cums to ende.
If euer I should take in hande
eyther to make or mende,
Er I would do such parcell acts
and nowght to full ende bringe,
Erste would I weare a croked nose
or in the same a ringe.
Picke out such matter ye that wryte
thats meetest for your strengthe.
Trye well your backs, what theie wil beare,
or what not beare at lengthe.
He that hath chewsde his matter suche
as he can well assayle,
Nor ticklinge eloquence, nor him
shall lightsum order fayle.
This is of order, as I iudge
the vertewe, and the grace,
Sumtimes to speake, sumtyme to leaue,
and passe bye for a space,
That one might speake, and caste it of
vntill a further tyme.
Let him with choyse chewse, and refuse
that would set forth a ryme.
Thou must be suttle, and warye
in placing of thy geare.
By wittie composition
its excellente to heare.
A knowne worde straunged hansumlye.
If we haue neade to shewe
Newe wordes for things, which things them selues
are now inuented new,
Wordes neuer vsde of other men
is beste for to deuise.
Licence is graunted if it be
vsed in shamfaste wyse,
And nouell words inuented late.
shall better credit bringe,
If sparinglye, not violentlie
They sourde from greekishe springe.
The Romans to Cecilius,
and Plautus leaue to faigne
Why should they geue, and from Uirgil
and Uarye it detaine
T'inuente a fewe wordes if I can
why should they so me hate?
Since Ennius, and Catos toungue
our mother toungue of late
Inritchde, and brought vp nouell termes.
it is, and euer shall
Be lefull to geue name to that,
that hath no name at all.
As wooddes are made debayre of leaues
by turnyng of the yeare,
The oldest fall: So antique age
of words away do weare.
As lusty youths of cresciue age
doe florishe freshe and grow
And crepe in creditt and conceit,
whiche whilom were full lowe
And we, and ours are due to death.
hauens, and creakes, the grounde
Nowe tamde with plough, which heretofore
vnfruitfull hath bene founde,
Attempts of kings, which were deuisde
for wealth of nations then
Shall perish all, and perish shall
the facts of mortall men.
Much lesse of speaches longe can lyue
the honour and the grace.
Ful manie a worde that now is dashd
shall ryse gain in space.
As these in space muste feele theire fal,
if vse do lyke them ill,
Who hath to iudge, autorish, reule,
all maner speache at will.
The facts, the seats of kings, and dukes
and baylful battailes sad,
What kynde of verse is beste for them
In Homer maye be had.
In rymes vneauen, at first complaints
and after in that kynde
Were written fansies dumpes, and all
affections of the mynde.
But who the prittie Elegies
fyrst on their feete did set,
Grammarians stryue, and that case is
in controuersie yet.
Rage armed fyrst Archilacus
with his Iambus verse.
Our commodies, and tragedies,
in whiche we do reherse,
For interchaung of talke right meete,
which doth in sounding passe
The noyse of crowde, to set forth things.
that vearse inuented was.
The Musies taughte in lyrike verse
the Goddes, and theire of springe
The warlike vigor, and that horse,
which pryce away did bringe,
Amors of youth, and and banquets francke
on instruments to sing,
If I nor can, nor know to kepe
an order due at all
Ne coloure braue my writings, why,
sholde they me Poet call?
Lewde that I am why do I shame
to learne which I ne know?
One maye not thinke things comicall
in Tragike blasts to blowe.
Phyestes feaste is ill set out
with simple words and tame.
Let all things haue theire comlye roume
well fitted in the same,
Sumtymes the commodye lookes vp
and liftes her voyce with all.
And crabbed Chremes for his thrifte
with open mouth will brall.
The tragicall doth sumtymes talke
as meanelye as one can:
Syr Teliphus, and Pelius,
both pore, and exiles then
Put out no puffes, nor thwackyng words
words of to large assyce
If by their words they meane to moue
affects in any wyse.
Not lore enough in Poesis,
let them be sweetlye fynde,
And let them leade to where them liste
the hearers plyante mynde.
The cheares of men as theie will smerke
on those that vse to smyle:
So are theye wrinchd, when theye do weepe
and chaungd within a whyle.
If thou wouldste haue me weepe for the
firste muste thou pensyfe be.
Thy harmes shall hitte me, when I spye
that they haue harmed the.
If Teliphus or Pelius
your words be out of place,
Wyse men will sleepe, whiles theye are spoke
and laughe at them apace
Sad wordes be set a sorye face
thretynge the vysage grim
For iokand, wanton, for the sage
ryghte seriouse wordes be trim.
Nature before the outward acte
doth frame vs to eche hap
By secret workinges of hir owne:
In pleasures she doth lap,
Or shoueth on the harte with ire,
or presseth to the grounde.
The vanquishd brest with dolors dinte,
then shunninge to be bounde
To inward passions of the minde,
she powreth oute at longe
The drirye drawghte of al her thoughtes
with benefyt of tounge.
If vnfyt for the personage
the talke do ronne awrye,
The nobles, and the prease therewith
will strike vnto the skye.
The page, or peare, whether doth speake
It skilleth nothing more
A freshe hote younker cocke braine, wylde,
or old man, sage, and whore.
A matrone ritche, or paynefull nurse,
the marchaunte venturer,
Or he that fewe good fassions knowes
th' unciuill grounde tiller.
The Colcus, or assyrian,
at Thebes, or Arge vp broughte,
If circumstaunces be not markt
the matter wilbe nought.
Writer, of who so thou shalt wryte
speake, as the moste men say,
Or if thou feyne, feyne then the things
as truthlyke as you maye.
If thou wouldest set Achilles oute
As other men haue done,
Let him be swift, chafing, vnprayed,
inflamde to vengaunce sone.
Let him denie that lawes were made
for him or any suche.
Let him by weapon beare him stowte,
and thereby chalange muche.
Let Medea be ferse, on mowde,
let Ino still be sad,
Ixie trothlesse Io wandring,
Orestes neuer glade.
A straunge attemptate to the stage
if that thou darst commit,
And darste a personage vnseene,
in nou ell mannor fitte:
Marke well, wherwith thou didst begin,
and vse the matter so
That top, and tayle in lyke semblaunte,
and tennor true may go.
Much hard it is in proper talke
to write a thing vnknowne.
Better it is the Ilyads
to stage ageine were drawne,
Then that thou shouldest in practise put
things knowne, nor hard before.
A publique matter may be thought
to cume from pryuate store,
If that one do not treade out right,
the trodden, vsed waye.
Thou shalt haue no regarde at all
word for word to oute lay.
If thou wouldest turne things faythfullye
and do not imitate
So iumpingly, so precyselie
and step, for slep so strayte,
That what for shame to wade on still
or ells to ende the thinge
As it began, thou canst not moue
ne yet thy foote out bringe.
Begin not as that Poet once
that fowle mouthe Cyclike lowte
Pryams fortune, and famous fightes,
at full I will layt oute,
What will our promiser tell vs
for suche a gaping fitte,
The Mountaines trauayle, we shall haue
a mouse to laughe at it.
How much more cicumspectlie he
which nothing did a misse,
How were his wits aduysed well
when he inuented this.
Set out my Muse to me the man
Since Troye taken (quoth he)
VVhich did the manners of much men,
and sundry Cytties see.
Not smoke of flame, but flame of smoke
he woulde haue to procede,
And learne of him, if thou woldst make
a poesie in deede.
Not Antiphas, Scylla, Cycloppes,
Charibdis to displaye,
Nor Dyamede from brothers death
how that he came awaye.
For writing of the Trioane warr
and Greekes fayre buskinde leggs,
He doth not fetche his matter downe
from Ladye Ledaes eggs,
He hasteth on vnto the happes,
the hearer hee doth drawe
Into the thickst, & lets I, him tast,
as he the whole did know.
The things that hee doth quyte dispayre,
t'intreate to good effecte,
To spare his laboure, and his words
he doth it all reiect.
So feyneth he, things true and false
so alwayes mingleth he,
That first with midst, and middst with laste,
maye cotten, and agree.
What I and all require of the
this for thy learning harke.
If thou wouldest haue vs stand stocke still,
and to the ende to marke,
That when the Epilogue is done
we may with franke intent,
After the plaudite stryke vp
our plausible assente:
Of fortes, and ages thou must note
the mannor and the guyse.
A decensie for stirring youth,
for elder folke likewise.

Childhoode

The childe as he can speake and go
furthewith is glad of play,
A mongst his mates, and gathers hart
to cuffe, and learnes to fraye:
And this he hath peculiar
he changeth without reason.
No one thinge is, that can like him
but for a very season.

Youthe

Unbearded youth, at last rid from
the Tutors barring charge,
Horse, hauke, or hownde, flaunt, & carouste
into the fielde at large.
Plyaunt as war to any sinne
most spytefull, and most fell,
To those that seeke his proofit most
by warning of him well.
A slacke prouyder for him selfe
a squanderer of goold,
Hawtie, hastye sone hote in loue,
and sodanly as could.
Mans state, and mynde doth turne that trade
he ginnes to caste his eye

Manhoode

To rytches, and acquayntaunce strayghte
and hauks to be on hye.
He takes good heede, not to commit
through giddines of brayne
The facte, which he for very shame
must nedes vndo againe:
Old men haue much encombrances

Age

the myser spendes his witte,
In gettinge, and the gotten spares
nor dares he spende of it.
Couldlie, and toto tymerous
his sentence he doth geue
Prolonginge, hoping, past his woorke,
desyerouse aye to lyne,
Churlishe, wranglinge, a prayser of
the tyme he lyued in.
A solemye Censor, and chastner
of euery younge mans sinne.
As yeares do helpe vs mightely
whilst we cum at a staye:
So after they disuauntage vs,
and breake vs to decaye.
Leaste youth of age, and age of youth
do saye, and play the parte
To shape oute things accordyngly
besetes a Poets arte.
Matters be either done on stage,
or to ulde how they were done,
The things reported to the eares
moue not the myne so sone.
As lyuely set before thyne eyes,
in acte for to behold:
Such actes as may be done within
no reason is they shold
Be shewed abroade: And many thinges
thou maiste remoue from sighte,
Which good, and ready eloquence
may staight way bring to light.
Medea may not openly
her tender children slay,
Nor wicked Atreus mens gutts
in sethinge vessels play.
Nor Progne turne into a bird,
Nor Cadmus to a snake.
I trust nothing thou shewes me so
but in woorst parte it take.
The play that would be sought after
and often cum in place,
Must haue fyue acts, nor more, nor lesse
for therein is a grace
God must be none brought on the stage,
but in such case and tyme,
When mortall man, cannot reforme
nor dignely plage the cryme.
Enoughe for fower to speake in sight,
And if the nede be suche
That moe must talke, cut of the last
and let them not speake much.
Th' autor the Chorus must defende
or els some other one
Whose innocensie, or manhode
deserueh prayse alone.
Let them not singe twixt act, and acte
that squayreth from the rest.
Such let their songs be, as will tune
vnto the purpose best.
Let them leane euer to the good,
and ioyne in verdict cleare,
Rewle the vnrulie, and loue them
which to offende they feare.
Let them prayse homelie, simple cheare,
and wholsume iustice prayse,
Lawes, and safe rest with open gayts,
and peace in all the wayes.
Let them conceale things credited,
to God oft let theim praye,
That lucke may growe vnto the meeke,
and to the prowde decay.
The shawme was not as it is nowe
with copper wrythed in
In trumpet wyse but small it was,
few breathinge holes, and thin.
Fit for a Chorus and as yet
the boystus sounde, and shryll,
Of trumpetes clange, the stalles was not
accostomed to fill.
Came thether folke sone numbred,
for why, the crowde was small
A thriftie flocke, a shamefast flocke,
and therto chast withall.
But when by conquest they began
theire borders to extende,
And brode their walls abowte the towne
for pompe were made to bende,
And when that men had felte a swete
in daylye bellie cheare,
So banquetinge eche hollyday
without remorce or feare,
Theire musicke, and their melodye
increased more and more.
The hobbes as wise as grauist men,
rid from their trauaile sore,
The moste vntowarde and vntaught,
most contemptible clowne,
As perte as pye dothe presse amongst
the wysest of the Towne.
So, motions and wantonnes,
vnto his former art
The minstrell addes, as hoyting he
as any of his part.
Then with the twanginge instrumente
the singers voyce did matche,
And that did nouell Eloquence,
and loftie speaches hatche.
A solemne speake mete for great things,
which knoweth after clappes:
A speach wherin the Delphique Phœbe
might tell men of their happs.
He that stroue first in Tragicke verse,
but for a sillie gote,
Set out Satyrs incontinente,
things rustical (god wote.)
With wholsom bitter grauitye
he proued to make sport,
With allurements, and newe conceyts,
to please a doltishe sort,
A sort past grace, and dronken to,
vnrewlie, rude and rashe.
We may not so prayse Satyrists,
which sumtymes for a crashe,
Make many mery with their taunts,
and geue theim leaue to play,
So that both godds, and noblemen
in splendent vestures gay,
Sham not their garmēts, & them selues
with common ale house talke.
The Tragedie muste shun the grounde,
yet not in welking walke,
And retche to hye, thoughe to prattell
of peltinge bables small,
Is not of nature Tragical,
nor fit for it at all.
The matrone blusheth, that is bod
to daunce in open day,
So sober Satyrists must be
amiddste their frollicke play.
To those that only loue the rewde,
and signifyinge worde
In Satyrs, I a Satyriste
Pisoes do not accorde,
Nor will not so confounde my termes,
that difference none be,
Twixt Dauus, and bould Pythyas.
The shrew, the damsell, she
Who could cosen olde Simo syre
and at his hands coulde gayne,
A tallant by collusion,
and sleight ligerdemayne.
The rurall Gods must haue their speache
if they do speake in prese.
I would indyte familiarlie
and vtter with myne ease,
That eche man may assure him selfe,
to do the like agayne,
But when he shall attemptate geue.
he shall but sweat in vayne.
Order, and composition,
so in them selues excell,
And meane matter cleanly set out
deserueth prayse so well.
The rurall goddes (if I can iudge)
must looke in any case
That they speake not lyke ciuill folkes,
brought vp in peopled place.
Theire rymes maye not to gamesum be,
of rybawdrye to ryfe,
Or slaunderouse: for vnto sum
it brings offence and stryfe.
The noble, honorable, rytche,
and also most of those
Which ought can do, will snuffe, and take
it peper in their nose.
What Tom, and Tib do rectefie,
what lykes the carter clowne,
The wyse men take not in good parte,
nor couer it wyth crowne.

Iambus a foot of ii sillables vvhere of the first is short the second longe.

The foote of Syllabs shorte, and long
Iambus hath to name.
A muche swift foote, and trymeter
(the verse which of the same,
Consists) is cawld, with six wight feete
it speedelie doth strike.
The first and last as all the rest
in pure verse are a lyke.
That more slowlie, and more grauelye,
it might cume to our eares,
It now the stade Spondeus foote
within it quyet beares.
In the fourth Roume and seconde roume
Iambus still hath bene.
In Ennius or Accius,
Spondie is seldom seene.
Bugge verses which cum to the stage
with waight of wordes alone
Louslie layd out, to sone suruayd,
hauinge of science none.
A learned iudge wil passe on them
as giltye of great cryme.
What thoughe sum iudges can not marke
the iarringe of a ryme.
And what thoughe Romains Poets to
an ample charter haue?
should I goe wryte at Randonne tho,
and vage abroade, and raue?
Or should I thincke my faltes would be
subiecte to all mens sight?
Within the hope of pardon, I
employed haue my mighte
To scape from scapes, and them to shun
by all possible wayes:
Wyth all my hart I do confesse
I neuer erned prayse.
The presidentes of greake wryters
to know, and vnderstand,
Reede them, and turne them day and nighte
with neuer ceasing hand.
Our forefathers, which Plautus rymes,
and tothesume sweetned vayne,
With lodes of commendations
did prayse, and prayse againe:
It was in them greate patience,
follye I will not say,
So to admire his verse, or vayne,
nether is veray gaye.
If I or you the taunting grace
can iudge from scurrill gere,
Or can measure the lawe of sounde
by fingering, or by eare.
Thespis to fynde out Tragidies
bestowed firste the paynes,
And led about his players, and
his playing stuffe in waynes.
Sonnets to singe, and things to speake
in that vnparfit case,
The personages were disgysde
by smering of theire face.
Next him of viserdes, and attyre
was founder Eschilus.
How that the stage adornde should be
he firste instructed vs.
To excercyse lowde speakinge, and
to couche alofte our voyce,
To teache all kynde of iesturyngs
with cumlines, and choyse.
Nexte came the antique commodie
and she wun all the prayse.
Hyr licence hath made dissolute
and lawlesse now a dayes.
But stayed was, and whiste she was
whishde to her vtter shame,
Because gone was hyr priueledge
so bitterly to blame.
Our Poets lefte nought vn assayde,
and they not worship leaste
Deserued haue, who of them selues
aduenterously haue ceasde
Further to trade in greekishe steppes:
and bouldlye starte vp then
The iollie iestes of natyue land
in natyue toungue to pen.
As Italie in Chiualrie,
and manhood doth excell:
So ere this time in perfitte speach
it mighte haue borne the bell,
But that our lither Poets all
of one disease are sicke:
Theye cannot stay to scum theire stuffe,
nor lumpishe trauaile licke.
You Pisoes (blood of Pompelie)
those verses reprehende,
Whiche longe deliberation
and rasinge did not mende
And hath not ten tymes bettered,
and on the fingers scande,
Correcting, and perfyting them
with ouernotynge hande.
Because Democrites iudgd art
to be more basse then witte,
Therefore those drummidories seeke
so sleightlie after it.
And for because from Helicon
the same man did exclude
All those, whiche were not straught of sence:
those lurdons are so lude
To let theire berde, and nayles growe out
to shun the open bayne,
Of hills, and dales, and secret steades
he feanes him to be fayne
Thoughe all the pothigaries stuffe
can scarcely purge his nowle
He thinckes hym wyse, his solempne bushe
because no man doth powle.
O dottrell I, I might or this
haue written noble geare
But that from collor, I am purgd
at springe tyme euery yeare.
It matters not, I am therefore
a whetstone in my wit,
Which can cause Irne and style to cut
ne cut it selfe a whit.
I will teach others how to do,
the paynes I will not take.
I will tell them how to be ritche,
what dyet, what will make
A Poet good, what doth becom,
and what vnsetting is.
To what virtew will vs conducte,
and erroure leade amis.
Of righte writinge dame wysedome is
the fountayne, and the well,
As do the bookes Socraticall
purposedlye the tell
And wordes will cum vpon the faste
at elbowe waytyng due
If that the matter in the mynde
thou wilte before suruew.
He that hath learnde, what he doth owe
vnto his countrie deare,
Unto his parentes, brothers, frinds,
what duetie he doth beare:
What doth concerne the Senatour
what doth the iudge behoue:
What doth become the chifetan beste
to set vpon and moue:
Him dare I warraunte of my worde
that he can tell, or none,
What properlye is incidente
to persons euerychone.
The learned imitatour, I
do wishe that he should caste
An eye into the lyfe of men
and practyses now paste,
That he maye to the verye quicke
his lyuelie phraises lay
Sumtimes an honest merye tayle
(lasciuiousnes away)
Delytes, and stayes the people more,
then do a thousande rymes
Deuoide of matter, shrill trifles
and waterde well with crimes.
The muse gaue wit to Greekes, to Greekes
a trowlinge tounge she gaue:
Who onely glorie, and renowne
were couetouse to haue.
The Romans now do teach theyr sonnes
no other kynde of artes,
But all day longe do set and part,
a sum into his partes.
Learne them to multiplye an ounce
by ounce and manie ounces,
So that this thing to multiplie
still in theire mynde reiounses.
And nusled once in casting counts
and care to multiplye
When to cancard coyne castynge once,
theire wittes theye do applye,
How can we thincke that they can make
or that theire verse should be
Worthie in Ceder to be writ
or kepte in Cypres tree.
The Poets seeke to proffit the,
or please thy fansie well,
Or at one time things of proffit
and pleasaunce both to tell.
In all thy preceptes be thou briefe
that learners quicklye maie
Conceiue thy words, and that the same
in faithfull mynde to staye.
What s'euer is superfluose,
to muche, and oftens tould,
Doth fill the hearer paste the brim
that long he cannot hould.
The things thats fainde for pleasure sake
be nexte to true in place.
No commodie can hope to haue
all credit in eche case.
To bringe in as a trim deuise
an ould wyfes chat, or tale
Of wiches buggs, and hobgoblings,
such trashe is noughte to sayle.
Unprofitable Poesies,
the sage sorte will not heare
And austere woorkes, the youthfull sorte
will ouerlooke them cleare.
He beares the bell in all respects
who good with sweete doth minge:
Who can in delectable style
good counsaile with him bring.
His bookes the stationers will bye,
beyonte Sea it will goe,
And will conserue the authors name
a thowsand yeare, and mo.
Yet certayne Peccadilians
which scape yea in the beste,
Are to be borne the better with
by reason of the reste.
For not the lute string alwayes strikes,
as hande, and minde would haue.
It will sounde base, and lowe when we
an highe lowde stroke woulde haue.
Nor yet the bowe dothe euer hitte
the thinge which it doth threate.
If that the more deale of the worke
be bewtifull and neate,
A fewe scapes shall not greue me muche,
with negligence let lye,
Or which because that we are men
muste now and then passe bye:
What then? he that compyles a worke,
and warned doth offende
In one thinge ofte, is perdonles
if that he dothe not mende.
As maye that minstrell well be mockd,
and woorthelie I wisse,
Which euer of the selfe same stringe
dothe vse to stryke amisse.
So he which ofte is ouerseene
is Cherilus to me,
Whome writynge two or three good rimes
I maruaile at with glee.
Yet am righte wrothe that any good
should cum from such a sotte.
Good Homer now and then him selfe
will slumber well I wotte.
If that our woorke be longe and huge.
so harde it is to kepe
Our selues wakinge, it is dispensde
if sumtymes we do sleepe.
A Poesie is picture lyke,
the which if thou stande nere,
Delytes the muche: sum picture more
if further of thou were.
This hathe a better grace in darke,
and this in open day,
The scanning skill of viewinge iudge
can it no whit afraye.
This Poesie hath had his tyme
it was well liked once,
An other hath bene lykd ten tymes,
An, Aperse for nonce.
(O eldeste of thy bretherne all)
althoughe with fathers voyce
Thou arte well taughte, and of thy selfe
thou haste a sauerie choyse.
Yet take this sainge of my mouthe
and take it with the cleane.
Sum thing there is, which will admit
a tollerable meane,
Th' attorney and the counsaloure
thoughe theye be meane in plea
Unlyke to them which at the barre
and benche do beare the swea.
Natheles in estimation
theye both haue bene, and are.
And many a man for theire aduyce
will seeke to them from farre.
But that meane Poets were the beste
that neuer graunted yet
Or God, or man or monuments
or euidence of writte.
Ill sawses, or ill melodie
when we do suppe, or dyne
Is little worthe, for those aparte,
the feaste mighte haue bene fyne:
So Poemes first deuisde, to sporte,
and recreate the mynde
Are beste, or worste by standinge in
or qualynge from theire kynde.
He dare not turney, nor yet tilte
which neuer knew the play:
The stoole ball, top, or camping ball
if suche one should assaye
As hath no mannour skill therin,
Amongste a mightye croude,
Theye all would screeke vnto the skye
and laughe at hym aloude.
Yet he that knows no foote in verse
will bouldly versefy.
What els? he is a gentleman,
ten thowsande francklins lye
By him to spende, and besydes that
so woorshipfull a man:
Such qualityes, and of greate cryme
no man conuicte hym can.
Yea, gentle men are goodlye men,
what so theye will, they maye:
But Piso, againste nature thou
shalte nothing doe, or say.
For so thy selfe art mynded to:
But if in after time
Thou shalt haue great affection
to publishe any ryme,
Let it be first examined,
by Metius his eare,
And by thy fathers, and by myne:
kept cloase a nyne longe yere.
The scrowles which be at home with the
at leasure thow mayst mende.
The faltes thats passed once in print,
are passed without ende.
The holly one greate Orpheus
the goddes enterpreter,
The saluage folke from beastlyke life,
and murder dyd deter:
So sayd the Tygers to aswage
and Lyons rampinge power.
So was it sayd of Amphion
founder of Theban tower,
With twang of harp to stir the stones,
with orisons deuyne
To leade th' unwylde creatures
to where he would assyne.
This was the wisedome in those dayes,
this counted they their gaine,
To part thinges publique from priuate
and sacred from prophaine.
For to inhibit wandring lustes
and wedlocke knot to tye,
Lawes to ingrale in during brasse,
and reare up townes on hye.
So got the godlike poets first
their honoure, and their name,
And for their verses al the world
did celibrate their fame.
Then started noble Homer vp,
and Tyrtheus with verse
Did make the lustie youthfull bruits
to battel fresh, and fearse.
By verses were mens fortunes tolde
and rewles to lyue aright,
And princes fauoures were procurde
by verse, and ryming sleighte,
Uerse is a solace, after worke,
a chase for noble game,
And perdie man to versifie
it nede be thoughte no shame.
For madam muse could tune the harpe,
Appollo knew the same.
If verse prayse worthie written were
by nature or by arte,
Demaunde hath bene, but I am thus
resolued for my parte,
That neyther studie can do good
without a welthie witt,
Nor yet the witt not well applied
can proffit one a white,
So witte, and, studie lincked are,
so doth the one requyre
The others helpe, so louengly
in one they do conspyre.
He that doth studie to cum to
the marke, which all men would,
Hath sufferde, and done muche in youthe
oft sweating, and oft coulde,
Refrainde from wyne and Uenery.
The minstrel that doth singe.
Was taught, and fearde his master firste
er he profest the thinge.
Now its enoughe to say, that I
can passing poemes make,
Since eche man bragges, the lagge of vs
A shendefull shame him take.
I thincke it shame to cum behynde,
to graunt I do not shame,
In that which I was neuer tawghte
me skillesse in the same.
The Cryer, as he cawles in on
the companye to bye
In portesaile of his marchaundise
as they do thether hye:
So doth the poet, ritche in lande,
and ritche in banqued goulde,
Assemble al his parasyts
to heare his prayses toulde.
If that a poet vsuallie
mantayneth lusty cheare,
And wilbe suretie for pore knaues
in suites them to vp beare,
I maruaile if that his fortune
and goodlucke should be such
To know false flatterers, from true frends,
theire faces wilbe such.
If thou hast geuen any ought,
or further dost intende
Beware to any merrie greeke
thy verses to commende.
He wil crye wel, notablye well,
passing, exceding well,
He will waxe pale from frendly eyes
his teares he will expell.
Daunce, and bedunche the grounde with fote
as those which hyred be
To waile, and morne at funeralls
(as far furth as wee see)
Both do, and speake more heuily
and rufull in their kinde,
Then those which inwardly with griefe,
are gryped in their minde.
So be the iesters gesterings
and glosinge wordes, aboue
The prayses of the well meaninge,
who doubtles do the loue.
Great princes vse to make muche of,
to feast, and feast agayne,
With strong, and heady drinkes t'assay
what was the wit and brayne,
Of those to whom theire amitye
they ment for to admit.
To proue how they for grande affayres
and trusty things are fit.
If thou professe a poetrie
be not deceyued, bewayre,
And shun the flyring feasting face
which outwarde lookes so fayre.
If one vnto Quintilius,
did any thing reherse,
Frend (would he saye) you must correct
both such, and such a verse.
If he replye, that he ne knew
better to make the same
He would assaye yet twyse or thryse
and bid him mende, from shame,
To lay his rude ill turned stuffe
againe into the frame.
If thou hadst rather to defend
then to amend thy misse
Thou shoulde neuer haue conference,
nor counsaile more of his,
Thou mightst march on in thyne owne wayes
without his further suit,
And hugge, and, busse, and cull, and cusse
thy darling apishe fruite
Th' vnsauerie verse the goodman, and
the wise will reprehend,
Blame those diffuse, and obscure rymes,
which to no good can tende.
Bald lattin he will note and marke,
with scraping of their thum,
And ornaments superfluouse
from better chaffer scum.
He must make manifeste darke drifts,
and argue at thinges straunge,
He must lyke Aristarchus tel
what eche one ought to chaunge.
And thinke not much his very frende
in trifles to offende.
These tryfles wil proue earnest things,
and seriouse in the ende.
When al the worlde shal them deryde
and greuously theym grudge
And when al shal withe auckwarde doume
and sinister them iudge.
To those which haue the fawling euil
and lothely leprosye,
That be frantike and moone sicke, none
dare bouldly passe hym bye:
All men do feare the poet mad,
the wise sort wil him shun,
Younge boyes him vex, the foolish flocke
wil do as he hath done.
He that dothe belch out puffinge rymes,
and gaddingly doth straye,
Is like the fowler, who to catche
his birdes, as olde men say,
Gaue backe for nonce, into a trenche,
and thoughe a prease past by,
And thoughe with rope to haile him out
were present helpe hard by:
What if the fellowe, sayeth one,
went in with his good wil?
Through this and such the sillie segge
lay plasde in puddle still
To know how vyle, vaine glory is,
how perillous a thinge,
Empodocles of Sicilie
to what ende it did bringe
Tell you will I: of immortall
to purchase him the name,
For vaine glory he scipped quicke
to Etnaes fyerye flame.
In good time poets, if they will,
may make them selues awaye,
And who so letteth such an one:
as rightly might one slaye,
May happes he hath assayde before
how to procure his bayne,
May happes if he were nowe fore stayde
his staing were in vaine.
Still would he be besides him selfe
nor would not lay a syde
The fancie towardes famouse death
wherin he had a pride.
And no man knowes, what cause he had
to write such frantike gere
How irreligiouse he hath bene
deuoyde of godly feare,
But mad hee is, and like a beare
most ragingly he straynes,
And if he could with al his force
dispatche him of his chaynes.
Learnd, and vnlearnd he woulde confounde,
he redeth them so fearse,
And doth theire workes so snapingly,
and snatchingly rehearse.
Whom he hath seased, on, he houldes
and doth with reading kil,
The horseleach will not leaue the hyde
but hauing suckt her fil.

[The first book of Epistles]

Horace his Epistles to Mæcenas

O thou the matter of the first
the matter of these laste
Uerses of myne, (Mecenas Lorde)
this is thy very cast
Yet once againe t'acquaint me with
my wonted ryming game,
Me, that am throughlie tryde in that
and victor in the same.
Not age a lyke nor minde a like,
the valiant man of warre
May leaue his armes, and liue at lengthe
a parte from scirmage farre.
Him needes not when his race is run
the people much to praye,
He hath lycence by lawe of armes
in time to goe his waye.
A thinge I haue within my selfe
that beates vpon mine eare,
And dassheth often in such sort
that clearely I may heare,
How it doth warne me to be wyse
to rid me from this race,
And timely to, lest I becum
a tyred iade in space.
A croked caple, who when he
hath trauailde any whyle
Will halt downe right at length & pante,
and make a number smyle.
And therefore now I lay my rimes.
and other toyes a syde
Deuysing things of hone stie,
and therin holy byde.
That whych may serue to guide my selfe
I muse vppon and make.
And leaste thow aske what Chifetan I,
to what sect I do take,
To none so bound, to sweare vnto
what s'euer he shall saye.
To where the tempest carieth me
a straunger borne away.
Sumtymes I skude abowt the towne
in ciuyll matters drounde,
A champion roughe and practyser
of vertue straite and sounde.
Sumtymes on Aristippus lore
by stealthe I cease on it,
The thinges to me, not me to things,
I would they should submit.
Long is the night to them whose griefe
alrest doth quyte exyle:
The labouringe man doth thinke one daye
a longe, and dreary whyle:
Slowe seames the yeare vnto the warde
which houlden downe must be
In custodie of stepdame straite:
Slowe slydes the time to me,
Unwelcome tymes, which do forslow
my hope, and fixed mynde,
With corage to accomplishe that
which ritche and poore shall finde
Of proffit like, the which thinge to
if it be left vntolde,
The not knowing therof may be
like hurte to younge and olde
Remaynes, with these fewe principles
my selfe to rule, and stay,
And throughe my skill surcreasd in me
thus to my selfe to saye.
Though one cannot lyke Linceus
with pearsing eyesight see,
To mende his sighte he maye not grudge
inoynted for to be
Lyke lustie Glyco thou dispayres
in lymmes to be so stoute
Yet maye thou exercyse thy selfe
to shun the knottie gowte.
A man maye clim a step, or twayne
thoughe he goe not beyonde.
Thy breste doth boyle with couetyse,
with lustinge vyle, and fonde,
Sainges there be, and sawes there be
to cure thy greedie care:
To master thyne assaltynge fyttes
to purchase thy welfare.
And doste thou swell with loue of prayse?
Such sacred salues there be,
Rede the prescriptions through but thryse
and I dare warraunte the,
Th' enuyouse, angrye, drunken, slowe,
the louer lewde and wylde
None so outeragiouse, but in tyme
he maye becume full mylde.
If he to good aduertisemente
will retche his listenyng eare,
And meekely byde with pacience
the counsaile he shall heare.
It is virtue, vice t'auoyde
and wysedome cheefe of all
Follie to wante: these two ills lo
do vex the at thy gall.
A slender stocke, and sharpe repulse.
to shun, and voyde these twayne,
Howe dost not thou disease thy mynde,
and plye thyne heade wyth payne?
A pace thou scuddes to traffique with
the furdeste folke of Inde,
Through Seas and rockes, throughe fyer and all
leste thou be caste behynde.
Contemne those things, which sodainelie
thou doste wishe, and admire:
Wilte thou not learne nor heare, nor truste,
the wyse at his desyre?
Who would (sayest thou) goo practise fence
In euerie towne, and streate,
And then refuse Olympus crowne
if he with it mighte meate,
A pleasaunte thinge, so pleasauntlye
without muche stiflynge duste:
Good toylinge faste, and for the beste
since trauaile needes I muste.
Siluer is baser muche then gould,
and goulde then virtew worse.
O, neyghbours, neyghbours, first get coyne
firste hardlye pragge the purse,
And then seeke virtue after gould,
so saye our marchauntes lo:
So chaunte the younge, so chat the olde,
all occupyers so.
Theire powches, and theire counting bookes
are glewed to theire handes,
For this we see, nor can but see,
the case on this sorte standes:
Though thou haste witte and courage good,
and manners mylde by skill,
Thoughe thou beeste craftie, and canst welde
thy pleading tounge at will,
If thou haste all thinges competent:
an other more then the,
Thou arte thoughte course, and he a kinge:
thy better muste he be.
The Romane children haue a songe,
whiche carrall doth they call
A kyng and keaser if to sinne
thy selfe thou doste not thrall.
Not to be giltye or wax wan
at anye falte at all,
A bulwarke that, to beare all bruntes,
be that the brasen wall.
The lawyere Rossy made this lawe,
that all shulde be estemde,
For onely wealthe: that blood, and skill
as nowght worthe should be deemde.
Per frendship whether better nowe
Syr Rossius lawes, and toyes,
Or that whiche I did carrall call
the ballad of the boyes?
That ballad crownes all iuste lyuers,
and euerye woorthie wighte.
Seeke crownes of fame, for well lyuynge,
not goulden crownes for sight.
Who gaue the better counsaile? he
whiche biddes the learne to thryue
By ryghte, if not to catch, and scrape
whilste thou arte man alyue.
To saile in welth, (a ship forsothe
where thou maiste plaine behould
The rufull falles which they haue had
that put theire truste in gould):
Or he, that biddes the stande vprighte
gainste fortune, and hyr pryde,
And chearelye willes the to be bould
not once to skew a syde?
If sum aske me why I ioy not
from barre, or benche to talke
Sythens I vse so commenlye
mongste lawyers for to walke
Why I do not embrase or flye
which moste men loue or hate
As once vnto the Lyon crasde
the fox that suttle pate
Did make reply, so answer I:
the foteprints do me fray
Which lye and looke toward the caue,
none lye or looke this way.
Should wyse men seeke to please the moste?
what proffit, or what gaynes?
Whome should I eye? the people is
a beaste of manye braynes.
Sum men will mell with publique thinges,
and those delite to hyer:
Sum seeking welthie wydowes can
with toyes set them on fyer:
Sum can (like fishes in a truncke)
kepe ould men for their paye:
Manie by secret vserie,
do crepe vp at this day.
But be it so, that diuerse haue
a diuerse trade, and waye:
Doth any one well lyke his trade,
one hole hower of the daye?
No coaste of all the worlde I weane
lyke Baiie towne of pleasure:
Yet sayle the posting carles from thence,
in hope to heape vp treasure.
If (on goddes name) they chāge their place,
whiche way those lurdans drawes,
Th' artificers must beare theire tooles
the carpinters their sawes.
In wedlocke (Lorde) how he admyres
the blesse of single lyfe?
Unmaryed, he sweares him bleste,
alone which hath a wyfe.
What knot can hould this Proteus,
that varies thus in hewe?
The pore man What? merrie I hope
he too muste chaunge his stew.
His parler, and his bedchamber,
Yea he will haue his barge
As surlye as the ritche: a bote
vpon his proper charge.
Mecænas if I meete with the
without my frisled top,
Not notted fyne, and fashion lyke,
thy mannour is to stop,
And ieste at me: my cote is bare,
my gawberdyne amis,
Thou iestes at me: I maruaile muche
what sport thou fyndes at this.
If that my mynde were chaungeable,
and were not alwayes one,
Takinge, reiectinge, retakinge
the fashions lefte, and gone
Glowing in no state of my lyfe
in steddie plighte, and sounde,
Thou thinckes, and knowes me to be mad,
but wilte not ieste at me
In iuster case, as reason would:
as farre forth as I see,
Thou weneste that I do wante no leache,
nor phisickes helpinge cure
From pretor sente: nathles thou arte
a buttres safe, and sure
Of all my state, thou chafes at me
for payring of my nayle
Amisse, at me thy frinde, and eeke
an hangeby at thy tayle.
In fyne, suche follye fondes a man,
and fondlye makes him roue:
The wyseman a nes vnfalliblie,
second to onelye Ioue.
His owne man famouse mannerlye
lastlye of kinges, a kinge.
Healtheful in sowle excepte his corpes
sum kynde of sicknes bringe.

To Lollius.

I haue perusde at Preneste him
(frind Lollie greate of fame)
That pende Troies broyles, whilste thou at Rome
didste practyse to declame.
Who, what proffits, whats good, whats bad,
(and verye feelde doth slip)
Dothe better tell, and more at full,
then Crantor or Crysipp.
Why I so thincke, (if leasure let)
lende me thy listninge eare.
The hystorye of Parys loue,
(for which as we do heare
Greate Greece empayred verye sore,
which wreakinge Parys sinnes
Did wayne awaye with ten yeares fighte
prolongde by lingeringe twynnes)
Of foolishe kinges and foolishe folke
conteynes a fumishe flame.
Antenor would haue compremize
to cut awaye the same.
What saies our Parys? what sayes he?
compell him shall theire none
To cease to bathe in worldlye blis,
and flow in ioy alone.
Duke Nestor sillie carkinge segge
the tempeste to appease
He cummes, and goes, twixte king of

Agamenon

men
and awfull Achilles.
The kinge for loue, both twayne for ire
are in a chafinge fitte,
What so the princes dote in lyfe,
the commons smarte for it.
Throughe treason crafte, mischiefe, and luste,
through wrothe of stomacke stowte,
Theye spare no sinne within Troye walles,
nor none they spare without.
Againe, how virtue, and a witte
at all assayes can ease
The Poet made a mirror in
the wittie Vlixes.
Who taminge Troye, the manors, and
the cities wyselye viewd
Of manye men: (for him and his
whilste he through vaste sea rude,
Did shape returne) who though he bore
ful manye a bitter shower,
Yet had the aduerse waues of him,
no soueraintie, or power.
Thou knowst ye mearemades sweete recordes,
dame Circes charminge cup,
Whereon if he like to the reste
had once assayde to sup,
Fylthie and fonde, a strumpettes slaue,
subiecte to hir desyer
Then had he bene, a dogge vncleane,
and sowe, the frinde to myer.
We are a sorte of lubbers, bred
to helpe to eate vp corne,
Righte wooers of Penelopie,
knaues, Parasytes forlorne,
A youth but to well practysed
in makinge of a feste,
To sleepe to twelue a clocke at noone,
we thincke it but a ieste.
And when as we are couchde in bed,
we heare the minstrells play,
With twanging of an instrumente,
to chase our dumpes away.
Theues ryse at all tymes of the nighte
to murder, and to quell.
Wilte thou not breake thy deathlyke sleepe,
to kepe the sounde and well?
If thou neglecte forecastinge still
for to enioy thy health,
Take heade, for dropsies breede of slowthe,
all sodainlye by stealth.
If at day breake with candle lighte,
thou buskle not at booke,
If thou to sum good exercyse,
or studie do not looke,
In loue, or malice shalte thou plunge,
Yea, thoughe thou be awake.
A little mote out of thyne eye
why doste thou haste to take?
If oughte there be that noyes thy minde
moste parte thou arte contente
Or thou begin to cure the same
to seeke an whole yeare spente.
The facte begun, tonehalfe is done,
be wyse and take good harte:
Begin: who so dryues of good deedes,
he playes the farmers part,
Who will not ouerslip the brooke
whilste that the water fall.
The water runnes, and kepes his course,
and ever kepe it shall.
Men seeke for moneie, and a wyfe,
fruitfull, and freshe of hewe:
The earth vndreste, with shredding share,
the husbandmen subdew:
He that hath once sufficient,
let him wishe for no more:
Not howse nor groue, nor yet of gould,
or siluer ample store
Can rid the owners crasie corpes
fro fellon shaking feuer.
Nor can the mynd of man from carke,
(for al their vigor) seuer:
That owner needes must healthfull bee,
and other men excel,
Which hauing riches competent,
doth cast to vse theim well.
The wisshinge, and the tremblinge chuffe
his house and good doth please,
As portraytures the poreblind eyes,
as bathes, the gowtie ease.
As musicke dothe delite the eares
With matter stuffde, and sore.
The vessels sowers what so it takes
if it be fowle before
Do, way delite, for pleasure bowghte
with payne annoyes in th' ende.
The Carle wantes aye, let thou thy drift
to no excesse extende.
Th' enuiouse foole doth pine away
at others happie state,
The tyrfants of Sicilia
did finde nothing to grate
Their gawles so much, as enuie did.
who can not staie his ire
Shall wishe vndone which teene bad do,
and wilful fonde desyre.
Ire is shorte wrathe, rule thow thy moode.
if it do not obey,
It rules forthwith, it thou with bitte,
it thou with chaine must stay,
The plyante steede of tender necke,
the horsekeper doth tame,
To marche forth lightly where him list:
further, to proue the same,
The hounde which doth commence his game
with opening at the skin,
Doth practise pursuite at the beast
and length through ferne and finne.
Then children leane your hartes to lore,
the best thinges eeke imbrase
What iuse (looke) first bemoysts a shel,
the shel therof a space,
A longe space wil reteyne the tast:
But if thou slack or stay:
Or if thou beist to forwerd ells,
and run to fast away:
I tarye for no trewands, I,
which from their studies slacke,
And those that wil vauntcurrers be
Not I wil draw theim backe.

To Iulius Florus.

Florus , in what parte of the worlde
Augustus sonne in lawe
Duke Claudius doth warfayre nowe
I trauaile much to know.
Or Tracia or Hebrus floode
congealde with winter frost:
Or seaes twixt towers, abordringe next
that glyde away, and post:
Or fertill feeldes of Asia,
and mountaynes hould you stil?
What doth our busye bende of Clarkes?
to know it is my will.
Who takes vpon him to indite
Augustus, woorthy acts?
Who powers into the worlde to cume
his wise, and warlike facts?
What Tytius? to Romane cost
that shortlye cums to dwel.
Who did not feare to drinke the drawghtes
of Pindars hidden well.
Bould to disdaine, the ryuers knowne
and common puddles vyle
How might he feare? howe mindes he vs?
dothe he in lattin style
Addresse his Thebane melodie
with Madam muse his guide?
Or is his swelling lofty vaine
in tragicke practise tryde?
How doth Sir Celsus? warned once,
and to be warned much
To seke for matter of his owne,
as also not to tuche
The workes which haue bene demed good
By Phebus Pallatine:
Lest if the birdes perhappes do cume
to aske their fethers fine:
The crow bereft of borrowed hue
do make a merry game,
To se the theefe that had so much
haue nought to shrowde his shame,
Florus what dost thou enterprise,
in what studie or ryme
Dost thou bestir? as doth the bee
bestir herselfe in thyme
Thy witte is not of meanest sorte,
it doth not lye vnskowrde,
It is not harshe through negligence
or otherwise vntowarde.
If thou doste whet thy tongue to pleade,
or plaie the ciuill iudge,
If thou dost make a louely verse,
theres none aliue wil grudge
To fee the with the first rewarde
of victorie the crowne.
And couetyse, the cause of care:
If thou couldest caste it downe,
O passing florus passinge man
thou mighste goe forewarde free,
Aduaunsed by thy thy heauenly witte.
as it would conduct the,
To this woorke, and this exercise,
lets spedely drawe neare,
If we wilbe vnto our selues,
or to our Countrye deare.
I wishe you furthermore to write
and written to me sende.
What harte thou bearst to Munatie,
if he be yet thy frend.
If that thy frendeship soulderd ill,
hath stayed no longer while:
And if it now be knapte in twaine
which I did reconcile.
But, whether you hote stirring blood,
or lacke of practise vex,
Lyke beastes vnbroake, vnusde to toyle,
Bruits of vntamed neckes,
Sirrs, whersoeuer you do liue,
me thinke it doth not well,
To breake so straite a knot of loue:
further I will not mell.
I haue againste your home comminge
a long deuoued cowe.
Which graseth here within my groues
and fattes her selfe for you.

To Albius, Tybullus a deuysor

Tybullus frend and gentle iudge
of all that I do clatter
What dost thou all this while abroade,
how might I learne the matter?
Dost thou inuent such worthy workes,
as Cassus poemes passe?
Or doste thou closelie creepinge lurcke,
Amid the wholsome grasse,
Addicted to Philosophie,
contemning not a whitte
Thats seemelie for an honest man,
and for a man of witte?
Not thou a bodie withoute breast,
the Goddes made the t'excell
In shape, the goddes haue lent the goodes,
and arte to vse them well.
What better thinge vnto her childe
can wishe the mother kinde,
Then wisedome, and in fyled frame
to vtter owte his minde,
To haue fayre fauoure, fame enoughe,
and perfect staye, and health,
Things trim at will, and not to feele
the emptie ebb of wealth?
Twixte hope to haue, and care to kepe,
twixte feare and wrathe, awaye
Consumes the time: eche daye that cummes
thinke it the latter daye,
The hower that cummes vnloked for
shall cum more welcum ay.
Thou shalt fynde me fat, and wel fed,
as pubble as may be,
And when thou wilt a merrie mate,
to laughe, and chat with the.

To torquatus

If thou canst well vowtsafe to suppe
with thin, and simple cheare,
And eate thy potage holy vp,
(a mease of homely geare)
In skellet course: at sonsette then
Torquat I tarrye the.
Thou shalte cum home and helpe to drinke
a cup of wine with me.
Wine, prest in taurus consulship,
twixt Sinuce, and Petryne,
And merrie Mintorne, If thou hast
sum better that is thine,
Or pray me cum, or bid me cum,
If thou wilt be my gest
My chimney shines, myne householde stuffe,
is hansumly vp drest.
Do waye vaine hope, fowle strife for goodes
and bablinge in lawe cases.
The day licenceth sporte, and sleepe,
To morrow Cesars graces
Natiuitie assoyleth al,
scotfree we may hould tagge,
In frendly chat this sommers night,
and let the worlde go wagge.
A way with wealth, if that a man
haue not a tyme to vse it:
The niggarde to straite to him selfe,
what doth he but abuse it?
Who sekinge howe to benefite
his heire in al he can,
Doth well deserue the second roume,
next to a frantike man.
I wil go quaffe, and strew my flowres,
In freshe and fragrant wise,
And for a time wilbe contente
not to be counted wise.
What, doth not liuely drunkennesse?

Dronkennes

deepe secrets it bringes oute
It confirmes hope, the naked man
it makes in battaile stowte:
It doth discharge the pensife minde,
It teacheth artes a pace,
Whom haue not fraighted goblettes made,
to vtter with a grace?
And eke in pinching pouertie
made lowse at harte and free?
This fit for me, I glad of it,
this charge I take to me:
A factor I to take good hede
that table clothes be cleaue:
The napkens fayre: leste sluttishnes
do turne the gess to teene.
That flagons and the vessels scourde
do shew to the thy face.
That what passeth through frend and frende
go not oute of the place.
Throughe pratlinge pyes: that like with like
and mate may set with mate:
Septicius,, and Brute withe the
according to your state.
Excepte Sabin per companie
be bod to better cheare,
He shalbe one? I take on me
to compasse all this geare.
There is a roume for shadowes to,
as iesters, and for such:
Unlesse the crowded company
perfume the place to much.
Write thou the number that wil cum,
cum straight, and stay no more,
And through sum posterne slip thou from
thy clyent at thy dore.

To Numitius

Nowght to admyre Numitius
is almost suche a thinge
As can conserue a man in blesse
and blesse vnto him bringe.
Sum suche there be not once agaste
which dare beholde the sonne,
The starres, the tymes, from point, to point,
how they do rowle and run,
What thinke you of the goodly giftes,
which in the earthe we finde?
What of the sea, that ritcheth those
of Arabie, and Inde.
Plaies, triumphes (giftes of such as seeke
with folke to haue a grace)
How dost thou looke vpon this geare?
what Censur, and what face?
Who dreades the lacke, of such like thinges,
in such sorte doth admyre,
No doubt the same, as he that doth
them feruently desyre.
Both parties are distrubde with feare,
both drenched in one cryke,
The feare to lose, or not to haue,
doth fray them both a like.
Ioy he, sad he, wishe he, dread he,
what matters that at al,
If at all thinges which hee shal see
better, or worse to fal
Then hee hopd for, with powting lookes
he glares vpon the grounde,
Or els in bodie, and in minde
be sicklie, and not sounde?
The wyse man maye be counted mad,
the rightuouse man vniuste,
If he after virtue it selfe
more then enough do luste.
Goe now, and laye thy lookes vpon
thy siluer, and thy goold,
Thy marble statues, brasen woorkes,
and Monumentes beholde.
Past virtue since we maye not passe,
this earthlye drosse admyre,
Becum in loue with iewells, gemmes,
and coloures cumd from tyre.
Reioyse that thowsand eyes do gase
on the, whilste thou doste talke,
Take this with the from market place
both late, and earelye walke
Home to thy house: forcastinge that
thy neghbour should haue more
Wheate (by the dowrie of his wyfe)
dehuskd vpon the flore:
Let it greue the that sum man cumd
of basse, and cowrser kynde,
Shalbe admirde of the for wealthe,
and thou owte of his mynde.
Nothinge but virtue, nowghte but it,
what s'euer lyes belowe
Age will make seene, age will digge vp:
and those thinges whiche we sowe
Moste freshe, and sheene, age will attache
Thoughe thou beeste famouse knowne
In courte, of kinges, though throughe the streetes
thy bruite abroade be blowne
Remaynes to cum, to where all kinges
and kesars haue bene drawne.
If that thy sydes, or Renes becume
With twitchinge stitche attainted,
Seeke how to chase that griefe awaye
to make it disaquaynted.
Wouldste thou lyue well? who would not so?
If onelye virtue can
Procure such lyfe, vayne toyes resyne,
sticke stowte to virtue then.

The best marchandise is virtue.

Thincke not that woords do virtue make,
as trees do make a wood,
Take ship betyme, leste sum forestal,
and bye vp all this good:
This pretiouse delytefull good,
treasure of greater gaine
Then all the chaffer that transfretes
from Portugal, or Spayne.
Disburce a thowsand talents thus,
and then a thowsand moo,
Three thowsand, and fowre thowsand thus
for virtue let them go.

Money.

But Madam moneye can do much,
she brings a wealthie wyfe,
Bringes trustie frinds, gentrie, & stocke
all pleasures of this lyfe.
Yea, he that hath the coyne in store
in pleading of a case
Shall tell his tale more pythelie,
with more delyteful grace.
The kinge of Cappadocia.
with all his rowte of men,

The causes of the lacke of mony.

Lordes, lordings, princes and theire peares,
lacke moneye now, and then.
Well if theye lacke, manteyne not thow,
a swarme of idle pages.
Bye not suche suites of vaine attyre,
whereon the worlde so rages.
Lucull demaunded on a tyme
to lende as I hard say,
An hundred cotes t'adorne the stage
and make the players gay.
And how should I that number greate
betake to you quoth he
Natheles in south I do not know
I will go home to see.
Straighte waye when he had searchd his house:
rewrytte agayne this mome,
That he had whiche he know not of
Ten thowsand clokes at home.
Or take t'one halfe, or all of them.
that howse (saith he is scante,
Where howsould stuffe vnoccupyde
not thoughte vpon doth wante.
Yea, true, such stuffe is verye good
the master to deceaue,
(And he not knowinge) is a praye
for euerye pilferinge knaue.
If wealthe alone can blessed make,
and the conserue in blisse,
Let all thy care, both more, and sum,
be caste to conquer this.
If brauerie or honour can
make the an happie man,
Lettes by a cut throte rutterkin
whiche in beste mannor can
Recyte thy tytles, and thy names,
who also muche reioyses
To Craue and iog those on the syde
that haue th' electinge voyces.
Who will, and dare retche forthe his hande,
and man the throughe the croude,
Beare of the heuie multitude,
cracke thus, and crye aloude:
My Lorde my master nowe a dayes
doth beare alonelye swaye
Throughout the hole nobilitie:
If that him liste to frowne,
From burnishd carre of Iuorie
the maiestrate goes downe,
And thou thy selfe moste smerkinglye
(to further on thy page)
Saye father, brother, to eche one,
as beste becoms theire age.
If well suppinge be well lyuinge,
this matter is dashste, lets goe,
To fishe, to hunte, and whether that
our throte will leade vs to.
Lyke Gargill, who betyme would cause
his nettes, bore speares, and men
To goe abroade throughe flockes of folke,
that theye mighte see him, when
He marched forth, and for to make
the men to maruaile more
He would in couarte carrie forth
and bringe in sighte a Bore,
As who saye he had conquerd him.
Let vs go quaffe, and swill
On full gorge, nor once mynde whats good,
or what becummes vs ill.
Woorthie to haue our memories
Portrade, in war or ayle.
Ulixes men of Ithaca
a greedie sinfull sayle:
To whome pleasure inhibited
did seeme of value more,
Then was to see their natyue soyle,
so wisshed for before
If he saye true that saythe all blisse
consistes in loue, and sporte,
Then lyue in loue: in daliance
is beste to keepe a porte.
Its nether so, nor so say I.
wealthe, honour feastinge, loue,
Do breade no blysse, virtue it is
that stauleth vs aboue.
Lyue, and fayre well, if thou knowe oughte,
Better then these thinges be
As touchinge blysse) frindlye conferre,
if not, vse these with me.

To Mecenas.

Phi
Vultie I perdon al,
If thou wilt sup to night with me
what time I shall the call,
Yours to cōmaunde Phi: at nine a clocke

Vult
I truste you wil not fayle.
Whilst that, goe make your marchandize
God sende you good retayle.

To Celsus albinouanus

My muse at my request wish wel,
to the great puisante mate
And secretarie to Nero
that much renowmed state,
If he inquyre once after me,
or question what I do,
Say me to threaten many things
and goodly matters to.
To liue not well, nor pleasauntlye:
not for because the hayle,
Dothe bruse my vines, or parchinge heate
myne olyues doth assayle,
Nor that my neate do go in feldes
frome home remoued longe:
But that I am in minde then corpes
lesse well at ease and stronge.
Wrothe with my leaches, and my selfe
for that they do restraine
From me suche things, as they do thincke
in time would be my bayne.
Things noysum those I long to haue,
from holsom things, I flye.
At Rome Tyber at Tyber Rome
a giddie marchaunte I.
This done my muse demaunde of him
how he doth, and what cheare
Throughout the ost, and with Nero
What stroke he doth now beare,
If he shall say that all is well
that nowght can make him sad,
Then shew the eftsonnes iocant to,
and be thou very glad
At last remember to instil
this precept in his eare
Celsus as thou canst fortunevse
so all men will the beare.

To Septimius

Septimi , Only Claudius.
perceaueth as I dene
What good accompt you make of me
how you do me esteme.
For needes withe importunitie
(I wis he will compell
That I should set him forth to the,
and go aboute to tel
That he well for his worthy witt
on Nero maye depende,
Nero, that to vnhonest bookes
in no wise will attende.
He knowes your fauoure to be greate,
so depely he doth prye.
What knowes not he? certes he knowes
much more of me, then I.
I sayd most thinges that might auaile
t'excuse me in this case,
Yet was afrayde lest I should seme
to much my selfe t'abbase
By cloking myne habilitie:
fit for my selfe alone.
So I that from the greater vice
so fayne would haue bene gone,
Not to be thought an hypocrite
deserue now to be named,
In this my suite a citizen
that is of nought ashamed,
But if thou thinkeste it prayse woorthy
that at my frendes request,
I haue shakde of all shamefastnes,
and bouldly done my best:
Let him retaine vnto thy house,
thou shalt finde him no doubte
Aright good fellowe of him selfe,
and for his corage stoute.

To Fuscus Aretius

I that admire the countrie soyle
interely do wishe wel
Fuscus to the, in cittye ay
that likest so to dwel.
In this thinge onely wee are founde
vnlike in iudgmente others,
In all thinges els wee tune in one
as it were germaine brothers,
The culuerdoues of auncient league
the treweste twaine that bee,
Are not in more consente of willes
and hermony, than we.
Thou kepes thy neste, the citie still,
I loue on husshing brookes
Of cuntrie gay, on mossie stones
onmedes to caste my lookes.
What wilte thou man I lyue I reigne
since I resignde these toyes
Which you aduance vp to the skyes
with mighty rowting noyse.
Lyke as the seruaunt that is vsde
to course, and fulsome meate,
Thinks it of small effect, or none
on wafer cakes to eate:
So I woulde haue good cuntrie cheare
my nature to suffice,
Your iunkets, and your delicates,
of truth I do dispyse.
If men must lyue accordingly
as nature dothe them call:
And if a plotte for howseroume muste
be sowght for, first of all:
The cuntrie didst thou euer know
and place of better blisse?
Is there, where wynters bitter breths
more tollerable is,
Where more coole ayre doth temperate
the dogges starre stewing rage?
Or doth the lyon in his course
more beninglie aswage.
When furiouse he hath receaude
the traueld prickling sonne?
Is there, where slepe throughe rankerouse care
is lesse then here vndone?
And do the erbes I pray you worse
delite the nose, and eye:
Then Lybique stones, or what so ells
the citie setteh by?
Where doth there purer water throughe
the leaden conduyts glyde,
Then that which in the fawling streame
with murmur, swete doth slyde.
The cittie eke lyke cuntrie townes
to haue theire fruite, and flowers
Builde pillors to support their trees
their orchardes, and grene bowers
In cittie to, do we not saye
that building is the beste
Whose prospect serue to see the fieldes
more fitly then the reste?
The citizens thinkes nature base,
and arte is their desier.
Tushe, expulse nature with a forke
yet she will still retire,
But chefely, if that she be euill
she tarries then no space,
The victris hath a swifte recourse
by stealthe vnto her place,
The man that can not wel decerne
but vseth still to buye
For Sidon silke, a wullen webb
of wateringes forged dye,
Hath not like losse, nor yet like greefe
to grate him on the gall,
As he which twixt falshoode,, and truthe
cannot decerne at al.
Who so was to much rauished
and to much ioy did take
In flow of wealth, him chaunge of flow
yea to much shall yshake.
Make it awaye what s'euer it be
thou ginnes for to admire.
Flye greate doings: aboue all thinges
seeke not for to aspyer:
Well may one passe in cotage pore
the princes and their peares
In true and perfect libertie
and see more pleasante yeres.

Fable

An hart the better cheuailer
as it came then to passe
Did chase an horse that fed with him
from eating of the grasse.
The horse that alwaye went to worse
besowghte the helpe of man.
The man he takes him vp with spurres
and bitt, in al he can.
The tryumpher after that he
was parted from his foe
The man from backe, the bitt from mouthe
he could not rid them fro.
So, he that feareth pouertie
his fredom cannot houlde.
Fredome, better then mettells all
better then choysest goulde.
That foole shall beare in dede a Lorde,
and lyue a dayly thrall,
For that he will not knowe to vse
and lyue vpon a small.
The state of men, if it for them
bee not accordinge fitte,
Is like a shoe, or els a shoe
is verie like to it:
The shoe thats greater then the fote
will make the fall or trip,
The lesser shoe doth hurt thy foote
(for pardie it will nip.
Its wisedome to lyue merrilie
(Fuscus) vpon thy share.
Correct me wel and thriftely
(good Fuscus do not spare,
If I should seme to scrape vp more
then well suffice me can.
Collected coyne is Lord or lowte
to eche possessinge man,
More worthy to cum after him
constrained with a cord,
Then that it shoulde so haue the heade,
and leade the lowtishe Lorde.
Behind Dame Ceres ruinnouse churche
I dighted these to the
In all pointes verie well appaied
but that thou wast from me.

To Bullatius

How haue theie Bullate pleased the
Chios, and Lesbos knowne?
How Sames fine, whose buildings braue
throughout the world is blowne?
How surly Sardis Cresus towne
who made it beare a name?
How Smirna and how Colophon?
greater or lesse then fame?
Or in respect of Tybers fluddes
and fieldes, semes all thinges nowght?
Or doth sum dame of delicates
resort vnto thy thought?
Or doth not (for that Lebedus
hath ircksum seas, and lande?
Or roisting Rome so populouse
now in thy fauoure stande?
Lebed in deede is dissolate
and that ful well knowst thou
The smallest village in a shyer
more peopled then it now.
Peopled, or not, to liue euen there
I would be very fayne,
For gittinge myne and I of them
to be forgot againe.
Wher I may see, and safely see
Neptune of dreadfull name,
How he at wil the waltering waues
doth oft controule, and tame.
But he that postes from Capua
to Rome mucke weete with myer,
To rest him all day in his In
is not that mannes desyer:
Nor he that lately hath catchde coulde
the stewe, and baine doth prayse,
As thinges that fullie make a man
happie at all assaies.
If thou beest tost vpon the sea
with Sowth wynde pusant fell,
Thou wilt not yonte Aegæum sea.
sell all thou hast, and dwell.
We trauaile all, not all a lyke,
I trauaile to remaine:
Thou here to catche, and ther to snatche
dost go and cum againe,
What is Rhods to content a man
or Myttelene the gaye?
A warme furde freese coote on thy backe
vpon a summers day.
A linnine slop in spitting snowe,
in wynter, Tyber fludde,
In hote August a nosehighe fyer
wil do the as much good.
Whilste we are lustie, and fortune
doth kepe her frendly cheare,
At Rome praise Chios, and Samos
and Rhods that lyes not neare.
Apprende with greatfull hande eche hower
that god hath lente the here:
Thinges pleasant now for to be done
deffer not for a yeare.
To wher soeuer thou dost cum
or what hap thou dost fynde,
Thou maist lyue ther, if that thou wilt,
with a contented mynde:
If by wisedom, not well dight house
our cares are al vndone,
If those chaunge weather, not their wit,
which yont the sea do run.
Our dilligence hath littell skill
we far and neare do skip,
To purchase wealthe in euery coaste
in wagon, and by ship.
The worste place here as pleasaunte is
as that which thou wouldste fynde,
If thou hadst grace, to iudge a right,
and qualefie thy minde.

To Iccius.

On Agrippes goodes in Sicilie
which thou hast in thy hande,
If (Iccie) how to vse them well
thou wouldest vnderstand,
I cannot see how Ioue himselfe
coulde geue the better store.
Do waye therefore thy practysde plaintes,
bemone thy selfe no more.
For he that hath the vse of goodes,
cannot be iudged poore.
If that thy bellie, sydes, and feete,
and all thy partes be well,
Not wealth of kinges can adde to owght
that doth this wealth excell.
If that midst all these present goodes,
thou bibliste not at wine,
But arte contente with erbes and rootes
to set the downe and dyne:
This dare I say thou lyuest harde,
to get the coine in houlde.
That fortune liquide ryuer straighte
might turne the into goulde.
Or, that moneye should seme to chaung,
thy nature but a small,
Or that thou dost thinke abstinence
surmountinge pleasures al.
It is no maruaile if that he
let bease eate vp his corne,
Whilste that his mynde contemplatinge,
on pilgramage was borne:
For thou this drosse, vneasefull drosse
doste sette but little by,
No small wyseman, as it shoulde seeme,
thou hast thy mynde on hye.
What stayes the seas from drowning all.
what orders all the yeares:
If planettes meue them selues, or els
are wrounge aboute in spheres:
Why is the moone now bright now darke,
what to hir roundnes bringes:
What meanes, what doth the great conflict,
the striuing peace of thinges:
Empedocles, or Sartyues pate,
which of the twaine dothe dote:
Thus arte thou ofte tymes occupied,
or shouldest be I wote.
Fishe, garlicke, onions what it be,
thou vseste for to eate:
I praie the of thy coortesie
do Grosphus well intreate.
Thers not the thinge that is not good
that he will of the craue,
The good man hath the fieweste frindes,
when he moste needes to haue.
Leaste thou beeste ignoraunte what is
as now our Romanes state,
The folke of Bisca, by Agrip,
th' Armenianes, of late,
By Nero were discumfited:
Phraates tooke his mace,
Kneeling vppon his marribones,
to Cesars aufull grace.
The goulden Lady plentie hath.
let fal out of her horne
Such store of graine, as Italie
hath seldom had like corne.

To Vinnius Asella

As I haue taughte the longe and oft
when thou for me shouldest ryde,
Thou shalte presente to August hand
my bokes in clawsure tyde:
(Asell) presente them vnto him,
if thou hast markde those thre
That he is well: that he is glad:
and asked for them from me,
Be not to rashe on my behalfe,
it wil disgrace the gifte,
If thou beeste to officiouse
a profferer to swift.
If that my booke be burthenouse
shift the of it be tyme
Least thou ass lyke vnloden the
with greater note of cryme:
Then will they laughe at Asina
thy fathers right sirname,
On the his sonne, the common voice
will then bestowe the same:
More meete to beare through cliftes, & fluddes
and puddills (wil they saye)
Then here in courte in mannishe shape
the Asses part to plaie.
Thy purpose once accomplished,
arryued at the porte,
Thou must retaine thy bookishe charge
in hansum ciuil sorte:
Not as the lambe vnder the arme
the sheppard doth reteine:
Or drunken Pyrrhe beares her wool
her flycesie filched gaine.
Or as the drunken dissolute
doth prate his cap in hande.
And bragge not to the companie
that shall abowte the stande,
That thou hast swet, and taken paines.
in bringinge of such geare,
As will embaite our Cesars eye,
and tickle vp his eare.
I pray the hartly to take paines,
(good Asell) do thy beste,
Auaunte, adew, take hede to trip,
and breake not my behest.

To his Balie in the Countrie.

Balie , the baliue of my firme,
which maketh me so glad,
Which thou contemnest daintelye
and demeste very badde,
My ferme of fiue faire families,
which once was wunt to haue
Fyue Senators frome Baria,
men credible and graue.
Balie, I saye let the and me
in this one point compare,
Or thou canste plucke more thornes from field
or I from minde more care.
Whether the landes lord, or the lande
shalbe more trim, and gaie.
Although the pensife pietie
of Lamia do me staie,
Who comforteles his brothers deathe
a mourner doth lament,
Yet th'itherwarde assuredlye
my harte, and mynde is bente.
And burnes, and burnes to braste the bondes
which doe inclose it so,
That it ne can goe scope abrode
where it woulde gladly goe.
I thincke the countrie, thou the towne,
to make a man of blisse:
He that doth lyke an others lote
his owne condempned is.
Both fooles alyke, without respecte
the countrye we do blame
Our minde the cause in ficklenes
Which euer is the same.
A Citizen, in secret wyse
thy farme thou dost desyer:
A farmer, thou the townish games
doste burne for, hote as fyer.
Thou knewste me to be still one man
much pensife ay to be
When myne vnwelcum busines
to cittie draweth me.
We loue not one thinge thou and I,
and therfore disagree.
Those places which thou thinkeste rude
erksum, and desolate,
A man of myne opinion
thinckes pleasaunte: and doth hate
Things gaie to the: the vitlinge house
doth bring thy stomake downe
And eggeth on thyne appetyte
to cum into the towne.
And that my grounde, incense, and
rather then grapes doth beare:
And for because to whittle the
the tauerne is not neare:
And that thou hast no trippinge trull
to mince it with the now
That thou mighst foote it vnto her
as nimble as a cow.
The glebie fielde, and clottrie glebe
with mattocke thou must tame:
Yoke the wylde neat, and with burthens
of fother feede the same.
The ryuer turnes the to a toyle,
if that a raine do fall,
Thou must go learne to make a dam
to saue thy meade with all.
Now harke, and marke on my behalfe
what maketh vs to square.
I that did shine in silken sutes
and glitter in mine haire,
I that coulde make the wylie shiftes
scotfre to liue in pleasure:
I that in time, and out of time
karoust it without measure:
Now me to fede on simple cheare
it is a heauenly hap:
And swetely by the husshing brookes
to take a snurting nap.
Not any there with waywarde eyes
for my good lucke shal spyte me,
Or poison me through secret grudge
or bitterly backbite me,
The innocentes the countrye clownes
when they see me vnfitte
Upturning cloddes, their harme is this,
theill stande, and lawghe at it.
The carpintor dothe grudge and thinke
thy state to be to good,
And that thou hast to much of neate,
or orchard, fruite and woode,
The sluggishe oxe doth wishe to beare
the caple for to draw:
I wolde wishe all with good intente
to vse the art they knowe.

To Valla.

Yt were but well that I should cum,
that thou shouldest writ to me
What winter nowe at Velia,
what wether there mihbt be
At Salerne towne: what countrye folke,
and eke what kinde of way.
For Musa the phisicion,
tould me this other day,
That Baiæ was not now estemde
as it was once in price.
They hate me ther at Baiæ
of late in greuouse wise,
For that I vse in winter tyme
to bathe me in such baynes
As be not warmie like to theires,
nor so aslake my paynes.
The place is full of mertle tries:
and many a holsom lake,
Of brimston, good to cure the gowte,
of truth I did forsake.
All Baiæ murne, and grudge to see
the sickmen, and the sore,
How eche doth bathe him selfe els where,
and commeth there no more.
The place is chaungd, ye Innes are chaungde
the horses they go by,
And no man now to Cumæ, or
to Baiæ doth hye.
The people they do shun the towne,
the horses must obey,
Guyded by twyning of the bitt
vnto their maysters paye.
I pray you also wryte to me
the nature of that grounde,
Or this, or that, to fede the flocke
more plentifull is founde.
If that their water in the poules
and cesternes closely stande:
Or if it sweetly bubble throughe
the siluer channeld sande.
As for the wynes that you haue there
I force not on them I
How s'euer it be in country towne
I loue it by and by.
But when I cum to seadyke syde
then do I hope to drinke
Lyuely, and myldlie rellesde wynes,
wine that will wake one thinke
Of cherie thinges, and that will flushe
into my mynde, and vaines,
Assuringe me, that I shal be
a man of ample gaines.
Wine that will make me speake in tune,
to prattle with a grace,
Wyne that will make my paramoure
esprysed on my face.
Of haires, and bores wryte vnto me,
which soyle hath better store,
Of sea fishe, and of dainty fishe
which country hath the more.
That I may cum brawne fed from thence;
This write thou vnto me:
So meete it is, as also meete
that I should cum to the,
When as with spence of parentes goddes
Sir Meui once began,
Mongst lustie laddes for to be cawld
a iolly gentleman:
The wandring varlet that knewe not
oft tymes where he should goe
Undynde, and had not wit to knowe
his true frende from his foe,
Cunning to speake all kinde of speache
against all kinde of men,
Th' vndoer tempest, and the hell
of al the shambles then,
What s'euer hee coulde get, or scrape
his appetyte to staunche
He gaue it all to gratifie,
his gredie gutted paunche.
When from his wicked dasterde mates
he coulde but littel wype,
Then like an horse he woulde deuowre
a chitterling, or trype,
And as a man halfe mortified,
of god he woulde desier,
That all the glottons wastefull wombes
were brent with flaminge fyer.
When he had got sum greater praie,
and turnde it all to dust,
I maruaiie not (by God) quoth he
If many men do luste
To eate good things, what thinge is lyke
amorsell of good meate:
The Turtle, and a peece of souse,
no better thinge to eate.
Suche one am I, thinges smal and safe
mine vse is for to praise.
In ebb of wealth, agaynst the ebb
my courage sterne doth paise.
In dainty flowe of happie tyde
I thinke you onlye wise,
To bathe in blysse aboue the rest
and lyue in cyuill guyse,
Which haue the fermes, and manners fayre,
with goulde the pragged purse,
Rents and reuenewes standinge firme.
at all tymes to disburse.

To Quintius.

VViseman
Penthus thou gouernour of Thebes,
what dost thou on me laye?

Gouernor
What shal I beare vnworthelie?
Ile take thy goodes from the

VViseman
What goddes? my substance, syluer, beddes?
take al those goodes to the.

Gouerner
With gyues, and fetters Ile tame the
vnder a galow dyre

VViseman
But god (I hope) wil reskewe me,
at mine instant desyer.
Perceauinge this, death on my backe,
streight forth the tyraunt bringes:
That is his worst: death is the last
and vtter line of thinges.

To Saeua

Thoughe Seua thou arte wise enoughe,
and by thy selfe canst tel
In euery kynde of coortesie
to vse thy betters wel,
Yet further learne the iudgement of
a very frende of thine,
As if the blinde to him that sees
his footestep should assigne:
Yet marke it thoo if thow canst cull
owght frome these wordes, I saye,
That thou maist take vnto thy selfe,
and after beare away.
If gratefull ease, if profounde slepe,
be such thinges, as do please the,
If crackling cartes, if tauernes no yse,
if stiffling dust disease the:
Auoyde the towne, and goe abrode.
Not he doth liue the best,
That hath the most. In cittie sure
is not the ioyful rest:
Nor he lyues ill that oft times semes
to lyue but base, and vyle.
A much poore man doth liue oft beste,
and doth the world begyle.
If thou wouldst seeke to pleasure thyne,
and well thy selfe demeane,
Wayte on an inche vpon the churle,
attyre thee neate, and cleane.
Not Cynicus (quoth Aristip,)
with colewoorts neede haue dynde,
If he him selfe a seruitor
to princes had resynde.
Not Aristip (quoth Cynicus)
himselfe woulde had resynde
A seruitor to princes, if
with worts he coulde haue dynde.
Which of these twaine hath better spoke?
or tell, or learne of me.
I would iudge Aristippus taunte
the better for to be.
For he the sharpe Diogenes
deryded in his kinde:
Thou art (quoth he) a common cokes,
I to my selfe do fynde
Good pastime to, the better myne
and eke more noble glee:
I plaie my part to ryde alofte
that kinges may pamper me.
Thou askes vyle things, and art much worse
then he that to the gaue,
Though thou pretende to stande no neade
at any man to craue.
All huie, all state, all kynde of life
did Aristip besette.
Seekinge the best, yet well appaied
with that, which he coulde gett.
Againe, wise meeke Diogenes
much would I maruaile I,
If he to sum ciuilitie
himselfe coulde now applye.
Not Aristippu would desier
in purple to bee cladd:
In all places he gladly ware
apparell good, or bad:
And could eche kinde of personage
so gaily on him take:
The Cynecke hates a purple weede
warse then a dogge or snake
Or he would weare a suite of silke,
the winter should him kil:
Well geue him cloth, and let the foole
goe like a Cockescome still.
To conquer Realmes, and at the Carre
the Captyues for to to leade,
Doth touche Ioues throne, an heauenly thing
a loftie praise in dede.
To please those in authority,
is not the meanest prayse:
Not eche mannes chaunce, to Corinthe town
to saile the moystie wayes.
Sum will not mell, distrustinge how
their seruyce should take place:
And is it not a manlie act
to get the princes grace?
Or such, or none in these our dayes
do beare away the bell,
Sum feele their owne vnablenes,
and do abhor to mel
With burdens toto ponderouse,
to heuie for theire backe.
An other vndertakes all thinges
and of himselfe doth cracke.
But if that vertue be a thinge,
and not an idle name,
Experience deserues the braunche
the prince of all the game.
Those that speake least of pouertie,
in talking with the king,
Oft tymes speede best, and all day sene,
the more awaye do bringe,
Gettinge and catching differ muche,
to gett and gette no shame,
That is the heade of our good hap,
the fountayne of our fame.
My Sister hath no dowre at all
my mother lackes her meate,
My lande is nought for to be soulde,
Nor good to kepe my neate:
This is an open beggerie:
An other he doth cracke,
If he had where to do with all
no frende of his should lacke.
If that the Crow could feede in whishte,
not creake nor make adoe,
She might haue better cheare by muche.
lesse grudge and brabling too.
Per company thou rydest abroade
to Brunduis, or Tarente,
Of craggie waye, of stormes, or could
he that doth him repente:
He that for paine, or damagies,
or fayned lossies wailes,
Is lyke the strumpats impudent,
talkde of in poetts tales.
Who morne so oft for want of chaines,
for want of fayre attyre,
That none at length will trust there teares,
when they would most desier.
That cripple that doth ofte delude,
(when his dyceite is spyed)
Must goe on foote, whome many men
did suffer for to ryde.
Though he shoulde vaper into teares,
and sweare vpon the same:
Trust me in sadnes, take me vp,
haue pittie on the lame.
His neighboures all will crie at once:
sum costomer els craue
To spede your turne: we knowe your neede,
we know you for a knaue.

To Lollius

Francke Lollio if I knowe the well.
thou wilt be muche afraide,
Professing the a frend, to plaie
the ribbalde at a brade.
The minion, and the matrone chaste
do differ: (that is true)
Faythles ribbalde, and faythfull frend,
be things of dyuers hewe.
This vyce hath to his contrarye,
almost a greater vyce,
Rude dumpishnes, vnmannerlye,
offensyue, and precyse:
Set forthe with rugged, scraped hyde,
and teethe, as blacke as geate.
Whilst it would seme a mere franchyse,
instalde in vertues seate.
Uirtue is meane, of vyces twaine,
from both disseuerde plaine.
An other is to proue, and preste,
to play the slaue for gaine.
A iester at the meaner sorte
the ritchmans becke, or sounde
He feareth so, retreates his wordes,
and helpes them at rebounde:
As if to crewell scholemaster
a childe should lattin saye,
As if a vyce should counterfeate
sum other in the playe.
An other vseth brablarie,
for very gotish wol,
Wyth tryfles fencd indede sayth he,
or any man should pull
My name from me, or shoulde me let
to speake my conscience fre,
I would not lyue duke Nestors lyfe,
in suche case for to be.
Caster, or Docill I may doubt,
which can the better plaie.
And eke debate to Brunduis towne
which is the redie way,
Whome harmefull loue, whom hurtful dyce
haue sodainelye made bare:
Whom pryde, and pompe, aboue his state
hath trickde and trimmed fayre:
Whom greedie thrist and knawinge pyne
of siluer, and of goulde:
Shunning, and shame of pouertie
who so that they do houlde:
Him hates the ritchman, that ritcheman,
doth hate him dedely sore,
That hath himselfe of vyces vyle
ten tymes more deadlie store.
He hates him, or will kepe him downe,
and lyke the godly dame,
Would haue him wiser then him selfe,
of more deserued fame.
And telles him to his owne great shame
a very lickly tale.
Uylan matche not thy selfe with me
my welthynes will quale,
And qualifie my foolishnes,
and with the same dispence.
Ha done compare no more with me,
for why thou lackes the pence.
A narrow gowne maie him content,
that is of humble witt.
Geue fooles the welth, wisemen the neede
for they can beare out it.
Euirapelus his enemies
to troble and annoye,
Would geue them gallant gawdie geare,
who flushde with pusant ioye,
Woulde take newe hope, and newe conceits
with their new garmentes gaie.
Set more by whor edom then wedlocke
slepe all the lightsum day:
Laye monie out to vserie
when it is rowsed thence,
Becum at length for to professe
the noble art of fence.
And being flitted from his strengths
to impotence, and teene,
Is glad to driue the gardners iade,
ourwhart the country grene.
Searche not to knowe the pryuie driftes,
of any frende of thyne.
Kepe counsaile close, though thou best wrunge
with hastie wrath, and wyne.
Commende not thyne owne practises,
nor other mennes disprayse.
When one would haue the hunt abrode,
thy poemes do not blase.
This grounde of stryfe did Amphion,
and Zethus twinnes deuyde,
Till Amphion of brotherhoode
did lay his harpe asyde.
Yelde the t'obbeye the easye rule,
of him that is of mighte.
As oft as thou shalt leede a feelde,
with nettes a charged sighte:
A sight of bangle eared houndes,
rise thou, and lay adoune
Thy conference with bokishe muse
and let the shrewe goe frowne,
That thow maist feede yfeare, vpon
thy hardly purchasde praye.
For those of Rome a goodlye toyle,
good for thy name (I saye)
For life, and limmes confortityue,
for the in health the more
That dost in course surpass the hounde,
in strength excel the bore.
Who can then the more semelely
thy manlike armoure weelde.
Oft hast thou wun with ioye of prease
at gamminges in the fielde.
A childe, thou knewst both warre, and campe,
thou wanste thy spurres in Spayne
With him that browght standerdes of Parths
into their roumes againe.
With him, who if that any thinge
vnconquerd be behinde,
With pruice of the Romane route
to win it hath assynde.
And least thou hyding of thy selfe
excusses should be founde.
(How beit) I thinke thou dust attempt
nothing but iust and sounde)
Sumtymes thou tryfles out thy time
within thy fathers grounde.
The Oste deuydes their bargies, and
the water scrymage then
(Thou beinge guyde) in foishe guyse
is playde by youthely men.
Thy brother foe, the fludd at hande,
the fielde harde by the towne,
You stryue whilst that swift victorie,
one of the twayne doth crowne.
If August knew that thou his warre
resemblest in thy plaie,
He would prayse the with clapping handes
frendly I dare well saye.
Further for to admonishe the
(If therof thou standst neede)
What, of what men, to whom thou speakste,
take euer earnest heede.
A groper after nouelties,
in any wise do flye.
I warrante the learne this of me
the same's a verye pye.
Nor wyde ope eares the thinges of trust
can well conceale at all,
And word once scapde, away its gone,
and none can it recall.
The maide, or wife that doth soiorne
within thy neighboures dore,
Let her not wounde thyne harte with loue
or thrill thyne intralls sore.
Lest that the husband of the wife,
and master of the maide,
Do turne thy hoped ioy to paine,
and make the ill appaide.
Beware, take hede, take heede, bewayre
whom thou for good dost name,
Lest haplie his misdeedes at length
do shent thy face with shame.
Sumtimes we erre, and do defende
a much vnworthie man:
The giltie partie once deceaud
defende no further then.
Speake for thy frend, thy long knowne frend,
if slaunder him assaye:
And beare, and boulster oute the good
which on thyne ayde doth staye.
For if with Theons venom tothe
all gnawde aboute be hee,
The hasserdes that are comminge next
wil cum most nere to the.
The case is thyne, thy neighboures house
when it doth flame vp bright,
And burninges thowght but smal, or now
haue grown to dreedful might.
Then whilst thy ship doth kepe a flote
ydauncinge on the plaine,
Take hede lest sodaine chaunge of winde
do beare the backe againe.
Sad nature, hates the pleasaunt head,
the pleasant heade the sad:
The swift likewise do hate the slowe,
the slowe the swift to bad.
The tiplinge sottes at midnight which
to quaffe carowse do vse,
Wil hate the if at any tyme
to pledge them thou refuse.
Though thou dost sweare, that thou dost feare
the rumes that cum by night.
Be perte, and cleare in countinaunce
not malipert, and light.
Sumetimes the sober man is thought
the most dunce in the toune:
And he that locketh vp his lippes
is taken for a clowne.
Chifely confer with learned men,
peruse eche lettred booke:
That how to liue a quyet life
thou maist consult, and looke,
Lest pore, and nedie couetyse
do euer make the itche:
Or drede or hope of thinges that make
a man but manelie ritche.
If vertue springe by litterature,
or ells by natures gift,
What quencheth care, what can the bring
to constancie, and thrifte?
What makes full contentacion?
honor, or dulcet wealth,
Or secret trade, or pryuat lyfe,
which stalkes away by stealth.
O Lollie frende, what do I thinke,
what thinkes thou? do I say
When I of any ioyllie ioy
or pleasure do assaye:
God graunte that I this kinde of life,
though sumwhat wurse may finde:
(If of my life the goddes wil haue
remayninge sum behynde)
God sende me once my commons cleare,
of Bookes abundaunt store:
This is enoughe to pray to god
that geues and takes away,
God geue me lyfe, and wealth and I
will set my lyfe at staye.

To Mecænas.

Mecænas if thou darst beleue
thine auncient frend Crætyne,
No kinde of verse can longe be lykde
that was not write in wine.
Bacchus doth make the poets raue,
like woddishe goddes, and wilde:
In dawne of daye haue smelt of wyne
the maiden musies mylde.
Dan Homer for that he so much
in prayse of Bacchus could,
Is proude to be a frend of wine:
yea Ennius the oulde
Did neuer prease to puffe abrode
the feates of battaile fyne,
Except he were first whitled well
and warmed through with winne
To thrifty men that had not druncke
graue matters he did leaue:
The sober sorte of poetrie
he did forsothe bereaue.
Ennie said this, they did not misse
but practysde it full well,
All nighte to sprall and stryue with wyne,
all day on it to smell.
But what though one with face austere,
with naked feete, and bayre,
Should Cato counterfeate, and in
his gallowes rounded hayre,
Soould he be like to Catos self
in life and vertue then?
He brast him selfe, that would be thought
equal to Timagen
In gesture, voyce, and eloquence.
Sum follow so precyse
A learned man, that oftentymes
they imitate his vyce.
If I should say at certeine times
I vsde for to be wann,
Sum would wax pale with slibber sauce.
sum imitating man.
O imitators seruyle beastes
how haue your tumultes vyle
Full oftens rasde my collor vp,
and oftens made me myle.
I euer set my fotestepps fre,
princelike where none had gone,
But others groundes I haue not vsde
to presse my fote vpon,
Who hathe corage, and confidence
shall rule an hooste the best.

Licambes hanged himselfe for griefe conceyued through Iambick verses vvritten against hym.

Th' Iambiquæ verse to Italye
I shewde before the rest.
Archilocus his rymes and spryts
I followde at an inche:
Those wordes, and matter that so sore
Licambes once did pinche.
And least you shoulde my poets heade
with lesser leaues adorne,
For that I feare the measure, and
his art of verse to turne:
The mannishe Sappho, and Alcæus
temper the same mans muse
In other feete: this drifte, and soune
they both twaine did refuse.
Alceus seekes no stepfather
whom he with verse may blacke,
Nor doth not make with rayling ryme
his spouse hir necke to cracke.
I, the romishe musicion
set forth to lattin lande,
This author, namde in no mannes mouth,
nor borne in any hande.
It doth mee good to heare him bringe
things neuer brought before,
To see him redde with ientle eyes
in eche mans hande ybore.
If thou wilt know why in him selfe,
the reader much vnkinde
Allowes my workes, and yet abrode
doth blemishe in them fynde:
I seke not for the fletinge voyce
of foolke, with making cheare,
By suppers, or to get the same,
by dole of castinge yere.
Not I that reade the noble bokes,
can so becum the lowte,
To craue grace at the grammer trybes
in pewes to seeke them out.
Hence cum these teares, this mortall spyte
they haue against my verse:
I am ashamed on pompose stage
(say I) for to rehearse
My wrytings, (wrytings nothing worthe)
to seme to add a weight
To tryflinge things, and things in dede
of very slender sleight.
Tushe man, sayth one, you meane to kepe
your tricksie, dainty geare,
To exhibit for worthines
to Ioues good graces eare.
Faire to thy selfe, thow dost suspecte
al other to be sower:
And thinkes thy selfe the hunnie sucke
of poemes to out power.
Reply do I, the iudgement sharpe
of curious wittes I feare,
And that they shoulde for very spyte
my penned poems teare.
The Theator I cannot like
I crye, and aske delaie.
Faine would I not begin at al
so perillouse a plaie.
For plaie ingenders tremlinge stryfe,
and strife outraginge ire:
Owtraging ire, fell spyteful lyfe,
it, deathlyke battel dyre.

The seconde Booke of Q. H. Flaccus his Epistles.

To Augustus

Since thou sustaines such busines
and so much bringste abowte,
Defends the Itale realme wyth armes,
with mannors sets it out,
Reformes with lawes: I shold but do
the common wealth much wrong,
If I shoulde stay thy well spente time,
Cesar, with talking long.
Both Romulus, and God Bacchus,
Pollux, and Caster to
For valiante feates of chiualrie
Saintes shryned longe ago,
Whilst they made their abode on earthe
Emongste vs mortal men,
Stayde warres, built townes, and laide out fieldes,
they much compleined then,
That honor such so plawsible,
did not ensew their acts,
As they did thinke they had deserud
by merits and their factes.

Hercules

He that did crowse, and culpon once
Hydra of hellish spyte,
And monsters knowne with fatall toyle
to fetters frusshed quyte,
Perceaud this by experience,
that Monsters all do fall
Through manlines: enuie is tamde
at death, or not at all.
He burnes the most with very blase,
that all thinges brings to passe
With skil, and none loues him, till he
be lapde in leaden masse.
Auguste, to the now present here,
we present honors due,
And alters make to thy greate name,
by that name we sweare true,
That anye thinge in anye place
was neuer lyke to the:
And dare auer, and well auouche
that neuer none shalbe.
The romishe people wise in this,
in this point only iust
Before the Grekes, and Romane guydes
prefer the as they must.
In this case doumes men very good,
in that they iudge of the:
In other thinges me thinks they seme
not so vpright to be.
Hating, and lothinge all such works,
as lewde, and ful of crymes,
Which were not fetchde from forren landes,
or pende in all theire tymes.
Such fawters of antiquitye
that tables made be men,
Deuysed and auctorished
by well knowne Romanes ten,
The storyes, and the iestes of kings
reiestred longe before,
Relegiouse bookes, and Cronicles,
by prophets writ of yore:
These workes they say the musies once
in Albane mount did tell.
Nedes must they cum from mouthe of muse,
for they so much excell.
The workes of Greekes as they be ould
so if they be the best,
So let vs iudge of Romaine woorkes
and then is all at rest.
Then chawke is cheese, and night is day
plaine speaking is to stut,
Within the Olyue nowght is hard,
nowght hard without the nut:
Wee then haue taken vp our stande,
and cum to fortunes tip.
But since we paint, and singe as well
wrastle as well, and skipp
As doth the Grecians pickd for nonce,
as good in any game.
Why shoulde we then in poetrie
distrust t'attayne the same?
If tyme do make mens poems good
as it doth make good wyne,
Then would I know how many yeares
a poet do assyne.
The wryter that departed hence
an hundred yeares agoe,
Emongst the poets new, or ould,
where shal we place him (lo?)
Mongste good, or bad: In sadnes nowe
to exclude all brabling moode,
How many winters do you wene
will make a poet good.
H'is ould, and good that hath bene deade
an hundreth yeres complete.
And he that lackes a yeare, or monthe
where shall he haue his seat?
Emongst the poets auncient,
whom all men do approue:
Or mongste that trybe which we reiect,
and neuer age shall loue?
He takes his place amongst the olde
the case is very cleare,
If he cum short of his accoumpt
but one monthe, or one yeare.
I take it thus Our Rome sayth to
that one yeare breedes no square.
Then lyke as one from horses taile
should twitche out heaire by heaire,
I take out one, and then one yeare
subtracting one, by one
Whilste he deceaude shall well perceaue
the hundred to be gone:
Who going to his cronicles
doth iudge all rymes by time,
And excepte death hath hallowed it
allowes no kynde of ryme.
Ennie wyse, stronge, and as he thoughte
an other Homere he,
Of the which dome concerninge hym
(yet dyuers other be)
Coulde not performe his promis tho
lyke Homere to indyte
Though he wende he had Homers sowle
and euen as well could wryte.
Neuie he is not in our handes
his want doth vex our minde,
So sacred be the poets oulde
and Rome to them so kynde.
If it be askd who was the beste:
Pacuuius doth beare
The bell for lore, and Actius
doth sounde his thumpinge geare:
To Menander the Commicke gowne
of Afphranus was fit.
Plautus the swifte delyuer stile
of Epicarme did hit.
Cecilius in grauitie,
Terence in art doth passe.
Those Rome doth cun, those mightie Rome
doth crowde thicke in compasse
Of Theatre, doth gaze on those
to Poets those bee mounted.
And all from Liuie to our tyme
be perfect poets counted.
The people sumtymes see a truthe,
sumtymes are ouersene.
If they so praise these Poets, which
in alder time haue bene,
If they make them Aperse Aes
that none are like to them:
The people then is misconceaude,
such vmpers I condemne.
If they do thincke that ould men write
sum harde, sum out of vse,
Sum slowthfully, and lowslie to,
and do not them excuse,
Wyse is that folke, and of my minde
and iudgeth vprightly,
I do not blame, nor haue not wishte
that Liuies verse should dye,
Which crewell, sharpe, Orbilius
did teache to me a childe.
How they I maruell seme to trim,
such maiestie to beare,
That they to principale good stuffe
approchinge on so neare
Mongste whiche if one well vttred worde
haue glimpsed at a shyne:
Or if there be a verse or twaine
that semeth sumwhat fyne:
Uniustlie they presume the hole
to be summ preciouse thinge,
And dare vnto the Stationer
as sailable it bringe.
I thincke not much that thinges are carpde
comde from a blockyshe pate,
But that those things are counted worse
which were commencde of late.
The lycence of the auncients
I neuer mente to craue:
There honors and their good rewardes
I woulde be glad to haue.
If Attaies interlude were good
(in case if I shoulde doubt)
For that it spoke of tryfling toyes,
certes a shameles lowte
Our seniors woulde blame me al,
for that I would amende
Those things, which Esopus the graue
and learned Rossie pende.
Or that they thincke nothinge is good
that is not to their pay,
Or that to their inferioures
they thinke shame to obey.
And that they thincke it now a shame
to leaue their wilsom waies,
Which these haue berdles learned once,
and in theire youthfull dayes.
He that can praise the Anthymmes of
kinge Numa, though that he
Be lyke my selfe, yet nedes must he
of greater iudgement be.
He cannot he delyte himselfe
in those which dyed of late.
Us eeke, and oures he pincheth at,
both deadly he doth hate.
If nouel woorkes had bene of greekes
accompted of so could
As now of vs, where now had bene
these workes, which we call oulde?
Or what thinge publique had there bene
written, and extante then
Which might be red, and flye abrode
amongst the handes of men?
As sone as Greece abandonde warre,
and gan to fall to toyes,
(As done those folke which gin to tast
at ease of fortunes ioyes)
Now to horses, now to wrasslings
attentyue much it was,
To viewe straunge workmanship in stone
in Iuorye, and brasse.
Hangde vp their lyuelie phisnomies
in tables dighted gaie:
Sumtimes did ioy in melodie,
sumtimes in tragique playe:
Lyke as the infant vnder nurse
cryes still to haue the teate,
And afterwarde at ryper age
doth leaue her loued meate:
So chaungde the grekes. For what O loue
is so nouell, and straunge,
But minde of man still discontent
woulde see a further chaunge
Things sweat or sower stil change by chaunce
and varie frome their kyndes,
So chaungeth goulden peace to warre
so chaunge the luckie wyndes.
Longe was it pleasaunte vnto Rome,
a solempne vse to wake,
And in thine open house earely
great busie paines to take:
To geue their Clientes solempne reede
and firmelie to fore caste
How that theire money well bestowde
might multiple at last.
To heare their betters teache the worse,
by honest trade to gaine:
And to extinguishe hurtful lust
the parent of much paine.
The fickle folke haue changde theire minde,
eche man is burning hote
To be a starte vp wryter straighte
in that a lone, aflote.
The younge, the ould of grauer wittes
at supper haue with baye
Their pendaunte lockes encompasde rounde
and verses they outlay.
Yea I my selfe that vse to saye
I wryte no kinde of ryme:
Am founde more lyinge then the Parthes:
and do cal for betime
Ere sonne be vp, my trinckets al,
my paper, deske, and quill.
He is a fraide to rule the ship
that can rule her but ill:
None dare make boulde to minister.
vnto his patiente
Woormewoode, except he know the thing,
and know to what intente.
Phisitions with their owne arte
wil onlie haue to do:
The blacksmith he with shop and styth
doth mel, and looke vnto.
Learnde, and vnlearnde we poemes pen
on all handes in eche place.
Our error tho, and small frensie
what great vertues, and grace,
It hath, consider this with me:
the poets fixed minde
Is commonly not couetouse,
nor rauishd from his kynde.
Uerses he loues, them only plyes
his losses, (as the guyle
Of seruantes vile his house is brent)
at those he doth but smyle.
No fraude he meaneth to his frende
to Orphaines infants none.
He can dyet with grudginge breade,
and peasecoddes all alone.
Good in cittye, though he be but
a milksop in the warre:
If you graunt this that great affayres
by small thinges helped are:
The tender stammering mouth of boyes
the poet frames by pains:
At the same times from language lewde
their eares he doth restraine.
Straight he instructs their brests with rules,
as frindly as may be,
Of dumpishnes, enuye, and ire
a sharpe controwler he.
He shewes to spende the time to cum
by samples past before.
He doth reiesture acts wel dun,
comforts the sicke, and pore.
How should yonge virginnes, & smal boyes
haue knowne how they might praye,
Except the muse had poets rasde
to teache them what to say.
The queare thus taught craues helpe from heauen
and feeles it cum with all.
This fayre, speachde queare through learned prayer
waters frome high doth call.
Turnes backe diseases dryues away
all daungers full of feare.
Obteineth peace, of corne and graine
a much abundaunte yeare.
The goddes aboue are calmd with verse,
with verse the hagges of hell.
The fermers oulde, stronge with a small,
that led their liues so well,
Their haruist done refreshde their corpes.
On hollie dayes with cheare,
And minde with sporte, which such harde hap
for better hope did beare.
With wyfe, babes, seruaunts, to Tellus
did sacryfice a swyne,
And to Syluanus offred milke
a sacryfice deuyne.
To Genius that makes men mynde
the shortnes of their dayes,
They sacryficed flowers, and wine
and lo by such like wayes,
Came firste the fraunchyse Fessentine,
the rude vnciuill sorte,

Fessentine libertie, by the vvhich on certē testinat dayes poets might talke their pleasure on any man.

Did rayle at wil in rural ryme
through fredom of the sporte.
And this licence through many yeres
in pleasaunt plight did stay,
Whilst to a very open rage
was turnde the hastie play.
This rage right honest families
assailde, and was not blamde,
Whilst honest men toke it in snuffe
to see them selues defamde.
And those that were not blemishde yet
in generall did feare
To what ende might procede at length
this sawcie tauntinge geare.
A law was made, and penaltie
annexed to the same:
For very rygor of the lawe
they tornde their former trade:
Fayre woorded rymes to please the eare
gan then for to be made.
The conquerd Greece, her victor Rome
with poemes did delyte,
And brought artes into Italie,
a realme vnciuil quyte.
So vanished Saturnes piuishe rythmes
which he before had taught,
And better speach, the clottred clotte
of duncerie brought to nowght.
Yet manye a wynter after that,
Did base speache with vs staye,
And left mongst vs sum footesteppes yet
remainyng to this day.
For Rome to greakish writings laide
her eare but now of late,
And beinge after Punicke warres
in calme, and quyet state,
Began then first to make the searche,
and partly for to smell
What Eschill, Thespis, Sophocles,
had put in writinge well
If worthely they could translate
then gaue they first assay,
Hawtie, and sharpe by nature they
and for their proper pay,
They breathe thing tragicall enough
and luckily are boulde:
But they feare blemishe in their worke,
and no such shame they woulde.
A commodie is thought to be
a thinge of lesser payne,
Becawse out of our dayly deedes
the most therof is tayne.
A commodie is so much more
of great, and weightie charge,
Because her libertie is strayte,

Commodie.

at least not very large.
Behold Plautus how he sets out,
by what apparaunte arte
The beardles louer, heedfull syer,
and craftie Lenos part.
Dorsen in paintinge parisits
bestoweth all his vaine:
Right dessolute in all the rest,
as one that takes no paine,
If he may cofer vp the coyne
or hent it once in hande,
Gramercye let his commoditie
or settle downe, or stande.
He that for brute, and wyndlik fame
doth bringe to stage a playe,
Him manie hearers wil make proude,
small number will dismaye.
So small it is, so light it is,
that makes the gloriouse mynde,
That huffes it vp, and puffes it downe
most chaungeable by kinde.
Both commodies, and Tragidies,
Fayre well say I, if that
The peoples euill voice make mee leane,
or good voyce make me fatte.
These two doth much exanimate,
and strykes the hart full coulde,
And makes those poets much ashamde,
that ought most to be bolde,
That oft the greater companye,
in vertue few, and base,
Untaught blockheads, braineles, ere while
at buffits for their place,
Though all our nobles like it well
in midst of all the plaie,
To beare baytinges, or pricke playings,
our Rudesbies must awaye.
Yea now our nobles do at length
their eares from toyes restrayne:
Yet flote their eyes, and hede of toyes
which be but very vaine.
They can sustayne fower howers to see
our stagies brauelie dight,
Of horsemen tropes, of footemen ranckes,
how they are put to flight:
Straight, captiue kinges are haild in sight
with pinnyand armes behinde:
The wagon, coche, horselitter, Barge,
to follow are assinde:
The captiue booties must be seene,
all things to please the eye:
To heare a learned commodie
we wery by, and by.
Democritus if he were here
wher he was wunt to be,
He would I warrante laugh a pace,
and make a noble glee,
If that the whyte straunge Elephante,
or yet the Camell can
Reteyne the people attentiue,
and make so many scan,
A gawishe sort gredie to gase
not gredie to be tawght:
At whom more then at any vyce
a wiseman would haue lawght.
What so is tould amongst thee flocke
so as it cumes to passe,
As fruitfullie a man mighte tell
a tale vnto an asse.
What noyse, or noyses to this noyse,
comparable in sounde?
So sterne it is, so shrill it is
when th' eccho doth rebounde
The rore of wooddes, the rore of seas
thou wouldest thinke to heare:
Such rule, and ruffle make the rowte
that cum to see our geare.
Deuyses, pagaunts, vestures straunge
with which the players drest,
The people hauinge harde no worde
to clap their handes are prest.
Masters why lawgh you so (sayth one)
what did the players say?
Nowght yet (sayth one) we lawgh to se
the goodly garments gay,
The coollor cleare, the noble dye
vpon that purple gowne:
Most like vnto the purple hue
which cums fro Tarent towne.
Lest thou should thinke that I disprayse
the thing which I do make
Because it is kynde of charge
which other vndertake:
That poet on a stretched rope
may walke and neuer fall,
That can stere vp my passions,
or quicke my sprytes at all.
Stere me, chere me, or with false feares
of bugges fill vp my breast,
At Athens now, and now at Thebes,
by charminge make me rest.
Concerning vs which studie not
to serue the staringe stage,
But wryte, which the posteritie
may reede from age to age.
If thou dost meane to haue vs pen
sum clercklie worke in deede,
Worthie Sir Phebe, and to put oute
our bookes with better spede,
Cutte of the carke that nippes our harte,
(a woorke of passing meede)
That poets with more feruent minde
then commonly is seene
May viset oft the musies nyne,
and Helicon the greene.
We poets do annoy our selues
by many kynde of wayes:
When I (as cutting downe, my vines)
mine own woorkes do dispraise.
Or when that thou art cloyde wyth booke,
(Like noddies, as we be)
We hurte our selues without respect,
in geuinge bookes to the.
Or if sum frende do reprehende
but one word of our vearse,
The hurt is ours that we becum
so byting, and so fearse.
When we do say, and oftens say
our rymes which none would heare:
When we take thoughte, becawse our toyle
to no man doth appeare,
Which we susteynde in making of
our poems freshe and fyne,
By drawinge them so featly forth,
and with so cleane a twyne.
Or when we thinke our matter needes
to such an ende must grow:
That, when, how we deuisers be,
assone, as thou shalt know,
On thine own swinge thou wilt vs call,
and make on vs with speede,
And cause vs write, and worke it so
that we no more shal neede.
It shal concerne your honor to
to haue to write mens acts.
Retayners to the musies house,
and famouse for their facts.
To make their deedes in peace, and warre
in stately style to sette:
Such dedes as to vnworthie Clarks
we ought not to commit.
To Alexander Cherilus
was welcum at those tymes:
Who gaue him crownes (a princelie gift)
for raggie rugged rymes.
But as blacke incke doth blur, and doth
the paper fayre defyle:
So good thinges handled of a foole
do seme to be more vyle.
The self same king so prodigall,
that bowght his trashe so dere,
Made proclamacion to be made
that no man any where,
Excepte Apelles should portraye,
except Lysip in brasse,
Should cast to counterfeyte his face,
which of such corage was.
One painter passinge all the rest
his minde was to haue had:
One poet to, that poet was
Sir Cherilus the bad.
Though he were king and Conquerer,
he might be coumpted tho,
A very gowse to leaue the good,
and fee a lossell so.
But thy iudgements which thou doste geue
will neuer worke the shame,
And gifts which they had with much praise
of the whiche gaue the same.
Virgill I meane, and Varius
thine owne deare Darlings twayne.
Thou hast deserued well of lore,
in quitinge of their payne.
Faces in brasse are not set forth
so lyuely in their kindes,
As by a poets workmanship
mens manners, and their mindee
Are well discribde, and painted out.
Its twyse so leeue to me,
To write a storye loftelie,
and stowte worded to be.
As low to creepe, and poorely peepe:
fayne would I take in hand
To speake of lands, of hawtie towers,
which on the rockes did stande.
Of saluage realmes, of fowghten fields
throughout the world to wyde:
And now reduce to peace agayne
thee onelie being guyde:
The turrets that in peace kepe close
Ianus the townes watcheman:
And Rome so fearefull to the Parthes
thee being cheuetaine.
This would I wryte, if that my power
could satisfye my will.
And true it is thy maiestie
a righte great style would fill.
Its standes not with my shamefastnes
to vndertake the thinge,
To beare that which my strengthe dothe shrinke,
and shame vnto me bringe.
To much a doe doth hurte him moste,
that mels with it the most:
Cheefelie if he in toungues, and arts
be rashe to make his boste.
A man may soner beare awaye
and rather kepe in mynde
The thinge deryded, then that is
prayse worthie in his kynde.
That commendation force I not
which doth my merits passe:
As eke I would not haue my face
set out in wax or brasse.
For euil inuented poecie
I would not haue a name.
Leste praysed so be yonte al home
it chaunce me for to shame.
And lest my wrytings which I thought
eternal brute shal haue,
Upon one beare, as sone as I
be caryed to their graue.
I meane vnto the mercers shoppes,
wher francke incence is soulde,
And what soeuer spycerie
in waste paper is roulde.

To Iulius Florus

Florus , thou inteyre, faithful frinde
to vertuouse Nero,
If one sell the a straunger boy,
and say vnto the, (lo)
This fayre skinde boy, for such a Summe
If thou wilte shalbe thyne,
A seruaunte at his masters becke
tydie, prompte, preste and fyne.
Well trainde in greeke, fitte for all arts
and one that will in space,
Trim imitate, and counterfeyte
ech countynuaunce with grace.
He can singe, though not cunninglye
Yet sweetlye at a table:
Muche wordes, and cracks do make I know
ones credit seeme lesse able.
When one setts out his wares to muche
as pretiouse stoofe alone,
For that for redie downe toulde coyne
he fayne woulde haue them gone,
Though I be pore, yet nothinge shall
compell me for to lye,
Cowpes man not one in all this towne
wil vse the thus as I.
Thou arte not all, this will I say,
(I speake it vnto the)
This boy ran once for feare of whip,
and na but once from me.
Bye him, oneles thou doste mistruste
that he should run away.
A man his coyne in suche a case
with small distruste mighte paye:
Thou boughts me knowinge all my faultes,
my nature toulde before,
Yet wilte thou haue to do with me
and troubleste me righte sore.
At our laste partinge, what I was
I toulde the plainelye than,
For suche office moste impotente,
a lame, vnable man.
And that thou shouldste not take me vp
with visage sad and glum,
Although no lettter vnto the
from me at all did cum:
What vaylde it me? If thou wouldste looke
vpon the lawes agayne,
And see how they do make for me
thou wouldst not thus complaine,
Because I haue not writ to the,
False of my word sayst thou:
The law will waye with me in this
I tould theeth is, or now.
Iucullus had a souldior, who
with warre much weryed than,
His voyage wayges being payd
all craftye, as he can
Whilste snorting like a very hogge
the foretoylede did groyne,
A pridgeman from him pryuilie
his money did purloyne.
Then like a woolfe most vehemente
agaynst him, and his foo
Incensd, with fellon fasting face
he flings, and fayreth so,
The councter Captaines standerd straighte
he swayed to the ground.
Garded about with force of men,
Enuyrounde thike and rounde.
Renoumed for this valiaunce
in ample recompence
They gaue him twentie sextersies
to kepe his port, and spence.
The prætor then (I woote not why)
began t'assayle a forte.
And lookinge for much good at him
spake to him in such soorte,
As would haue moued a very sheepe:
Goe lustye lad, (quoth he)
Prease on with luckie foote to where
thy pruice calleth the.
Famouse shalbe thy ritche rewarde:
march on why doste thou stay.
To whome the souldier quiet now
demuerlye did say.
Drad Syr a verye daster lowte
will suffer payne and pyne:
But then when he is spoylde of all
as I was erste of myne.
Rome was my norse, and scholemaistres,
and in her was I taughte
What damagemente the Troiane rowte
by dyre Achilles cawghte.
Athens she me instructed so
that sciences I knew,
And that wysely I could decerne
the false thinge from the true.
In Platos schole the morall lore
I gan to learne a pace
Whylst troublouse tymes, and hasserds hard
distrurbd me from that place.
The ciuill heate then me vntraynde
did animate to warre,
Warres which to match, with our August
vnable were by farre.
Thence lighted I in Thessalie
of fethers then deplumde,
I browght full low my house, and landes,
and all I had consumde.
Bould pouertie made me sterte vp,
to versefie, and ryme:
My verses neede not to be fande,
or scumd at anie tyme.
Excepte I would dispyse the arte,
and dissolutelye thinke,
That it is worse to versefie
then is to swill, or drincke.
Howbeit my wyt, which I haue had
beginnes for to decay,
And ech yeare plucks away from me
as it doth passe away.
My games, my iestes, my lustes, my feastes,
from me they made to go,
And now would steale my poems to.
what wouldste thou I should do?
Concernynge kyndes of vearse, not all
delyte in any one.
Thou louiste the common verse, and he
Iambique verse alone.
Sum lykes Satyrs, and thwartinge speache:
I haue thre at my borde,
Not one of them bowte anye thinge
with th' other will accorde.
Eche one from other straunged so
that diuerslye theye chuse.
What should I writ? or what not wryte?
He biddes, thou doste refuse.
That which thou craues, and doste alwayes
take in the better parte,
That other do mislike, and thinke
it, toto harshe, and tarte.
Againe, thinckes thou that I at Rome
my vearses can indyte
Mongst so much toyle, and such a coyle,
suche soking carke, and spyte.
He calls me for a sewertye,
an other for to heare,
(All other busines set a part)
his newe deuysed geare.
Helyes on mounte Quirine, and he
yont Auentine doth lye,
A sunder farre, yet to them both
to see them both must I.
Thou seeste the gay commodities
we sillie students get.
No thinge dothe wante, nor streate, nor talke
our studies for to let.
The horse, the carts, the merchantes toūgues,
a clattringe noyse of bells,
Now crosbow shotte, or peale of gunnes
our glasse wyndors downe fells.
Skrykyng, howlyng at funeralls,
the bawlinge masties crye:
The hoggs yell out, heers noble stuffe,
let him go nowe applye
His shrill tunes, sonets, that dothe thincke
this place to be so good.
The bookish crew did euer yet
delyte, to haunte the woodde,
Righte Bacchus Clyents, lyke to him,
they hayte to haunte the towne,
And vnder solytarye shade
to reste, and lye them downe.
Mongste hurlie burlye, nighte, and day
wouldste thou haue me to sing?
To treade in Poets narrow trace?
If Athens could not bringe
To sum with seauen yeares harde studye
greate plentie of hyr lore,
Though theye waxte ould with booke, and care,
Yet blocke heades, as before
Departe they home with shame enough:
I that am dwellynge here
Midste wrastlinge waues, and routinge storme;
of all this busie gere,
Can I in case so cummerouse,
in such turmoylinge tymes,
Fynde in myne harte to tune with harps
my iarringe Lyricke rymes.
I knew too Orators at Rome
th' one was to the other,
In mutuall prayse for both their gaynes
a faste ytrothed brother.
These franticke knackes haue Poets to
I wis I know it well:
I wryte Lyricks, he Elegies
both woorks say we excell:
Both woorkes becum the musies nyne,
behould with what a pride,
And what a doe we Poets walke,
and looke on euery syde.
Dogge thou vs once, and listen well,
and eftsones thou shalte heare
What goodlye felowes be we twayne,
why we the lawrell weare.
He kills me with his bablarie,
and I againe him quell.
To Samnet souldiers feightinge ill.
we are compared well.
I am Alceus by his doome:
and what is he by myne?
What but Calimachus? if yet
he woulde be more deuyne,
I call him great Mimermnus streighte,
thus by our wished name
We grow vp both, (as I cast it)
to be of flyinge fame.
I heare, and see, and say the beste,
and this law do I fynde
Easeful for me, leaste I stirre vp
the waspish Poets kynde.
And when my doings cum abroade,
for good will that theye beare me,
Thaile praise it, be it good or bad,
I neede not for to feare me.
Euil versefyers mocked be,
yet haue they to theire ioy,
Whilste theye indite, and reade theire toyes,
moste chearie, and moste coy.
If thou sayste noughte, they prayse them selues
lyke good ones as they be.
But if thou wilt good poems wryte
this will I say to the:
As thou in lawfull scanned vearse
canste well descryue a thinge:
So muste thou to into thy mynde
good law, and virtue bringe.
Thou muste be bould to seuer oute
words that be not of lighte,
Wordes of no weighte, and such as be
not prayse worthie in sighte.
Though they do cleaue vnto thy ryme
vnwilling to departe,
If they be noughte, though theye be vsd
of Poets in theire arte.
Thou must abandon vnquoth words,
and bringe eeke into vre
Brighte, lightsum stuffe, sounding, and graue,
not simple, and demure.
Wordes vsed by the antique Dans,
the fassions once did beare:
But now caste of for verie elde,
he muste bringe nouell geare,
Whiche father vse hath bred, and taughte
pythie, and playne wyth all.
To ritch his cuntry let his words
lyke flowing water fall.
Cut of processe, and sleake, and fyle
thou, that whiche runnes not rounde,
Picke, and cull out with heedefull skill
what s'euer is not sounde.
Ech personage in his righte Quue
take heede that thou dost frame,
In diuerse parts the gestures, and
th' effects, are not the same.
Rather to me for to be thoughte
a doulte, and dissard vyle,
If that my follye might please me,
or seeme good for a whyle:
Then to be wyse, and vexed ay:
(as wysemen be moste greued.)
A man well knowne in Arge there was,
who stedfastlye beleeued,
That he did heare braue melodie,
and see trim fellowes play.
Thus fanseinge, on an emptie stage
he would laugh all a day.
In all points ells an honest man
vnspotted in his lyfe:
A good neyghbour, a good fellow
peaceable with his wyfe.
No brawler in his familye,
nor angry for a crewse
Breakinge, no crafte of man, or place
could him in ought abuse.
When he by welth, and frindly helpe
recouered by, and by,
Had chasde awaye with herbes, and drinks
his ould melancolye,
And cominge to him selfe againe,
by God my frinds quoth he)
By this your doing you saue not
but you haue killed me.
From whom is gone, pleasure alone
the lyke can no man fynde:
So pleasante dotage cutte a waye
by curing of my mynde.
Certes its good for to be wise,
and cast these toyes awaye,
To leaue vnto the younger sorte
this riminge kinde of playe.
Not reulie to consume our dayes
in musicke sleight, and cleane,
But truly to direct our wayes
in measure, and in meane.
This thinge I oftens talke vpon,
and oft I thinke of this.
If that no lickoure coulde asswage
thy greedie thrust (I wis)
Thou wouldste tell the phisition:
the more that thou hast got
The more thou wants, confesse thy selfe
of this so fowle a spote.
If that with certayne rootes, and herbes
thy woundes could wel bee drest,
Wouldst thou therefore to heale thy selfe
neglect to do the best?
I sayde in deede that he was wyse
that had the coyne in store.
But since thou hast no more of witte
thoughe thou of wealthe haue more,
Why dost thou vse my counsaile still?
If ritches make one wise,
Lesse feareful, gredie, or (for fiew)
better in any wise,
This wote I wel, and dare speake it
thou wouldst ashamed be,
That any man which is alyue
should leue them more then the.
If that be thyne whych thou hast hyrde,
or which thou hast of oulde,
That is thyne owne which was to the
but verie lately soulde.
Thou bowghst the ground, and so it is
that vse hath made it thine:
Thou boughst it with thy propper goodes,
what should I more defyne?
What skils it whether thou dost liue
by purse, or by thy field,
If for thy fielde thoughe longe agoe
thou moneie once did yeelde?
He that doth thinke that goods, or landes
can be his owne for longe,
A foole is he, a fonded foole
and doth himselfe but wronge.
He cals it his, because without
controulment, he dare take it,
That thing which chaungeth in one hower
no man can stable make it.
That which doth run from man to man
in flitting fickle guyse,
By conquest, lot, by chop, or chaunge,
by prayer, and by prise.
No terme of state dothe dure for ay,
heires cum on, one by one,
As gliding waues in swiftye streames
are quickly cumd, and gone.
What proffits medowes, or els barnes,
our pastures, and our parkes:
What all, wherefore so gredelie
the moneie mucker carkes?
Pearles, stones, iewels, pictures
with costelie kynde of tainte,
Siluer or silks so liuely wroughte
as hand of man can paynt?
Since death at length thinges great, and lesse
doth wipe awaye as cleane
Successyuelie in such effect
as they had neuer beene.
Sum can not cum to haue this geare,
and sum men do not craue it:
And seinge what it is and workes,
by all meanes shun to haue it.
Why two brotherne, the one should set
more by a quyet life,
Then Heroldes palmes, and all his pompe
preserued stil by stryfe.
The other ritche doth neuer thincke
that he can haue enoughe,
And therefore delueth, hagthe, and heuthe,
by mooneshyne goes to ploughe.
God knowes, that God, whiche in the starres
hath temperde eche mans fate,
That nature God, which hathe so cleane
estraunged eche mans state,
That all men differ by their deedes:
But he is very sad
To see them euill, to see them good
as merrie and as glad.
I will take from my little heape,
and sewer I wil not snudge,
And as touching my successor,
I feare not if hee grudge.
Twixte prodigall and liberall,
fayne would I know of the
Twixt sparing, and the couetouse
if difference none be.
It differs much to spende alwayes,
and spende at honest tyme:
Differs from both, to catche, and snatche
with couetyse, and cryme.
Best is, as children vse, sumtymes
to learne, sumtymes to playe:
Sumtymes to get, of our gettinges
sumtymes for to assaye.
Neede, and an vncleane house fro me
let these two ills be gone:
Let whether hoyst, or sincke me down,
the worlde shall fynde me one.
I row not full saile, as I would
euer with wished wynde,
Yet doth the wether serue me so
I cum not farre behynde.
In credit, witte, in vertue, wealthe,
in outward shape, and face
Behinde the first, before the last,
I kepe the middle place.
Thou arte not couetouse thou sayst,
Be gone I like the well.
But didst thou with the couetyce
all other crymes expell?
Art thou without ambition
deuoyde of vaine desier,
Without all feare fantastical,
and hastie, chafing ire?
Dreames, charmes, iuglings witchcraftes, night booggs
wunders of Thessallie,
Canst thou contemne? the holly day
with worship dost thou plye?
Canst thou forgeue thy neighboures falt,
art thou not more austere,
And crabbe in conuersation
as oulde age draweth nere?
Of al these thornes that pricke mānes mind,
why pulles thou out but one?
If thou canst not lyue as thou shouldste,
from those that can, begone.
Ye worldlings, you that haue enough,
of meate, drincke, and of playe,
Surrender now, full time it is
for you to cum awaye.
Leste euen younge folke seinge you drinke
more then for you is meete
Do make of you mere mockinge stockes,
and campe you with theire feete.

[The first book of Satires]

Priscus Grammaticus de Satyra

Satyra est carmen acerbum, instrumentum mordax. &c.

The first Satire [of Horace]

Right drad Mecenas, whats the cause
that none contente abyde
In trayned trade, that whylome choise
or chaunce to them affyed?
But loues, and lykes an others lote,
and nouell lyfe pursues.
Still flotes and flyts from former fate,
Ne brookes the same to vse,
Th' unwyldye warryer waste with toyle,
wyth grouelyng elde for spente,
O makelesse marchaunte mumbleth he,
O state with blisse Yblent.
The fearefull marchaunt he again,
When waltring wyndes amayne
With plunging puffes from Sothren coste,
and hydiouse hissing rayne
Torments the Sea, hoistes vp the waues,
that doth surmounte the sayle,
Saunce pere, doth deme the souldyers guyse,
for why, they tugge, they hayle,
They prease in plumpes on mortall yron,
where eftesones eyther bayne
Is prest: or gladsum trumpets clang
dooth blase tryumphante gayne.
The counsailer for Meede, or fee,
that parles, and pledes the lawes,
When at cockes crow, his gats are pushte
with hastinge Clyentes pawes,
Then happye farmer ofte, (sayth he,
for thou in golden sleepe
Arte soust: of mout or suite vndreamde,
of barre thou beares no kepe.
The chubbyshe gnof that toyles, and moyles,
and delueth in the downe,
If happlye he a suertie be,
so sente for into towne:
Who gapes, who gawes, who pores, who pries,
who proggs his mate but he?
Perfaye (saith he,) hers all things ryfe,
these people blessed be.
The resydue that rests vnroulde,
the remnaunte that remayne
Of this new fanglde fickle flocke,
woulde pose and put to paines

Fabie a common pratler.

The fabling Fabies tatling toungue:
to deskaunte and descriue
The route, and rabble all a rowe
A draughte to longe to dryue,)
But that no tracte neede trouble thee,
nor ambage breede delaye,
Harke well how I will coutche this gere.
put case som god woulde saye,
Your lykings all allowde shalbe:
and thou that erste in feilde
The maces keene, the grounded sworde,
the Tucke, the targe, the sheilde
Was wunte to wilde, wyth passage moyst
shall cutte the frothie playne,
A merye marchaunte shalte thou row.
and thou that didste disdayne
To lyue and leade the Lawyers lyfe,
shalt mucker in the grounde.
Be trudgging hence, your trades are turnde,
why stande you still in stounde?
They will not tho, although they mighte
accepte this blisfulle boune.
Then whats the cause that Ioue thus mockd
may not condinglye soone
In irefull mode and dyre reuenge
engourge his puffed cheekes
Gaynste all this sorte? and spreed no eare
to them that hensforth seekes
And suies with pratlynge prayer to chop,
and chaunge their former plighte.
But lest som man should hould me in hands
my tretys is to lyghte,
To muche with laughter interlasde,
(albeit the gest er may
Harpe on a soothe, ells God for byd)
and toyes may kepe and staye
Sumtimes the reeder very well,
as those that teache in schooles,
With buttred bread, or featusse knacks
will lewre the little fooles,
To learne a pace theyr A. B. C,)
I will be at a poynte
Wyth nyfles now. Ile turne the leafe,
and waightye thinges disiointe.
The Churle that shreds ye earth with share,
and wreakes the yeeldynge lees,
The marryner that shaues the streame,
and furrouse vncouthe seas:
The Tauerner that falsethe othes,
and litle reckes to lye,
The souldyer that doth deale the battes,
and makes his foes to flye,
They say the cause they trauayle thus,
that thus they care and carke,
Is this: That when vnnimble age
hath reste them of their warke,
When fumbling foote denyes to meeue,
when hande nil houlde, or hente,
That then they might suffisaunce haue,
leste easles neede them shente.
Not muche vnlyke the lytle Ant,
(a beaste of tydye toyle)
Who drawes, and dragges her delycates
orewharte the hillie soyle
By mighte of mouth in al she may,
and placed in her cell
She stickleth, and bestirres her selfe,
She huswyfes it right well.
She carues it fyne, and mings it thicke
and shroudes it vnder roofe.
As one that of the wynters wrathe
Were not to learne the proofe,
Ne yet to care for after clappes.
Whereby when Ianyuere
That myrethe all the costs wyth slete
and saddes the ginning yeare
With aspere shours, dooth cause the cloudes
and welken aye to wepe,
Then Ladye Pismyer stirrs no where,
shees claspde in closset deepe.
Shee keepes her Chrystenmasse in caue
and there they make bone cheare:
They feede and feele the fruit of that,
which once they gott yfeare.
And wyselye to, but the (alas)
no Phebus flaminge brande,
Nor greuouse numming could that maks
the chillyng sencelesse hande,
Nor fearefull fyer, that flusheth vp
and sumes to pitchye smoke
Nor stormye seas, whose oppen iawes
suppes vp wythout all choke
The straglinge shippes: nor weapon whet,
Nor oughte canne the deterre
From huntynge after hurtfull horde:
for whilste som such there are,
That swimme in wealthe, and the surpasse
in rytches or in robes,
Thy glutton mynde will neuer staye,
still, still thy stomake crobbs.
What vayles it the so quakinglye
to grubbe and grippe the moulde,
And there in hucker mucker hyde
thy Idolle God thy goulde?
If that thou spende, and sparple it,
no dodkin wyll abyde:
The deuille may daunce in crosslesse purse,
when coyne hathe tooke his tyde.
And if thou snudge, and saue it sounde,
and cofferte from the sonne,
What shewe then hathe thy hidden hepe,
what luste is therebye wonn?
Admit on flore thou haste in store
an hundreth thousande mets
Of corne dehuskde: what cums thereby?
thy belly houlds, nor getts
No more then myne: as if in case
to feelde thou shouldeste fayre
With scrippe on backe, full fraight with foods.
and straighte, as thou cums theire,
The hungrye hunts muste haue it all:
what makes thou by this matche?
As much as he that carryeth noughte,
(certes a woorthye catche.)
Or els per frendshyp answer this:
To him that doothe propounde
Nature his guyde, and treads her steppes,
what booteth him of grounde
Whether, an hundreth acres he
or els a thousande tills:
Thou saiste, he fedes the eye the more.
the from the huge hepe fills:
Well syr no force, if that you will
but condescende to this,
That our repaste doth ryot shun,
and reasonable is
To kepe the soule and Carcas cheynd,
to stynte the pyning styng
Of hungers gnaw, and that we haue
a meane of euery thyng:
Why thē, what dost thou boste so much,
thy plumes why dost thou spreade?
What better is thy barnes, then our
smale sackes that serue our neade?
Muche lyke for southe, as if that thou
a potte or pitcher muste
With lyquor lode, and mights it fille
at fountayne hereby iuste,
And yet for fonde affection, thou,
to please thy gredye eye.
Shouldste wende vnto the flowing streame
where greater gulfes do flye.
At whiche whilste some haue reached farre
and proferde ouer faste,
The bācke hath burst, that down they lusht,
and so be drente at last.
But he that leanes to temperaunce,
and anchoures on her lore,
And takes so muche as serues his turne,
and gapes to grype no more
Him needes not draw the drubbled dreggs
of fowle by durtye poole,
Nor yet for deuelishe thirste to haue
(as one from vertues schoole
Exempted quite) fetche from the brim
and ouerwhelming waues,
Where now and then (O iust rewarde)
in raginge surge sum taues.
The Christall springe shall woorke his will,
and syluer channelde wells
Shall yeelde ynoughe, where lurrks no dreade,
where slyme ne slabber dwells
But out (alas) the greater parte
with sweete empoysned bate
Of welthe bewitchde, do weene their wants
aboundance in eache state.
For monye maks, and mars (say they)
and coyne it keepes the coyle,
It byndes the beare, it rules the roste,
it putts all things to foyle.
A mann's his money, and no more,
wherin confused is
An heauen of happs, a worlde of weeles,
an hunnye bath of blisse.
O dottrells dome, and is it so?
what guardon for these doultes
Shall we deuyse? lets suffer still
the foolishe frantycke foultes
To wallowe in their wilfulnes,
whose vnder eating myndes
Is neuer cramde, but prooles for more
and swarues not from their kyndes.
Such one we reade of in olde tyme,
that dwelte in Athins towne,
A man in substance passinge rytche,
nathlesse a niggerde cloune,
At whose scarceheade, and couetyce
the worlde did out as make,
But all in vayne, he forste it not,
he sought not howe to slake
Blacke fame, that frisked euerye wheare,
and bounsed at ytche eare,
A figge for them (quoth brasen face)
I force not howe I heare,
They hauke, they hem, they hisse at me,
I weygh it not an hawe,
Whilste I may harbor in mine arke,
and lodge wythin my lawe
My darlynge goulde, my leaueste gueste,
my solace and my glee,
He is the bone companion,
its he that cheares vp me.

Tantalus.

Ah simple cheare consideringe all,
graue Tantale in thyn hearte,
His fee dyd feede his fatale falle,
his mucke procured his smarte.
Whose lippes as drye, as any kykkes
dothe ofte assay to taste
The licker, to allay the droughte,
that hathe nye all to waste
His intralls, sterude for lacke of moyste,
the fluds to eeke his paine
They clim vnto his veray chinne,
and then declyne againe.
He catcheth, and he snatcheth aye,
and stille he grates in teene,
And stille shal do, for panges stille spring
and freatinge sorowes grene.
I pray the now, what cause haste thou
to sporte and pleasaunce take?
To faune vppon thy foolishe goulde
whiche endlesse greefe doth make.
For thou induriste Tantalls fate,
and takynge but his name,
This tale maye well be toulde of the,
thou arte the veray same.
Thy house, the hell, thy good, the flood,
which, thoughe it doe not starte,
Nor stirre from the, yet hath it so
in houlde thy seruyle hearte,
That though in foysonne full thou swimmes,
and rattles in thy bagges,
Yet tost thou arte with dreadefulle dreames,
thy mynde it waues and wagges,
And wisheth after greater things,
and that, thats woorste of all.
Thou sparst it as an hollye thynge,
and doste thy selfe in thralle
Unto thy lowte, and cockescome lyke
thou doste but fille thine eye
With that, which shoulde thy porte preserue,
and hoyste thyne honor hye.
Thou scannes it, and thou toots vpponte,
as thoughe it were a warke
By practysde painters hande portrayde
with shaddowes suttle darke.
Is this the perfytte ende of coyne?
be these the veray vayles
That money hath, to serue thy syghte?
fye, fye thy wysedome fayles.
Tharte misse insenste, thou canst not vse't,
thou wotes not what to do
Withall, by cates, bye breade, bye drincke,
in fyne disburse it so,
That nature neede not moue her selfe,
nor with a betments scant
Distrainte, and prickd passe forth her daye
in pyne and pinchinge want.
To wake all nyghte with shiueryng corpse,
both nighte and day to quake,
To sit in dreade, and stande in awe
of theeues, leste they should breake
Perforce thy dores, and robb thy chests,
and carue thy weasaunte pype:
Leste flickeryng fyer should stroye thy denne,
and sease with wastefull grype
Uppon thyne house, leste runagats
should pilfer ought from thee,
Be these thy gaines, by rytches repte?
then this beheste to me
O Ioue betake, that I may be
deuoyde of all those gooddes
That brews such baneful broyles, or brings
of feare suche gastfull fluddes.
But if so bene the pauling colde
thy limmes dooth ouergo,
Or els sum other worse disease
hath daunte thy body so
That downe thou must, and byde in bed,
thy vauntage then is great,
At elbowe preste thou hast thy frendes,
who will prouide the meate,
And tender the euen as them selues,
confections sweete or tarte
Theylle minge for the, suche as beste lykes
thy quasye wamblynge hearte.
Theyle treate the fyne physition
with potions sounde and sure,
By force and vertue of his skill
thy corps for to recure,
And to restore thee to thy sonnes
and kyndely fryndes againe.
Alas the whyle its no pointe so,
thy wyfe she workes thy bayne,
Thy sonne he inlye lothes thy lyfe,
his regreate, and his plainte
Is euer freshe, because that death
doth linger to attaynte
Thy hatefull heade, thy neyghbours, and
thy cheefe acquaintaunce all
Thy iacke, thy gille, thy kith, thy kinne
doth prosecute thy fall.
What maruayle ist, when thou haste loude
thy siluer as thy lorde,
If none loue the, whose loutishe lyfe
deserude no louyng worde?
But if thou thinckes th' alyes to lynke
in frindshyppe and in faythe,
And wenest thou maiste with smale a do
from breache and foyshe wrathe
Kepe tyde the knot, that nature knit:
Ah sillye manne, in vayne
Thou doste surmise this fruitlesse fetche,
its farre beyonte thy brayne:
Perseueraunce in amitie,
and duraunce still in loue
Discordeth muche from fickle man,
thou maiste as well aboue
The sluggishe asse a saddle couche,
with golde and perle befret,
And strayne his iawes, with brydle braue
with goldsmithrye ybet,
And so to make him praunce, and plunge,
to friske, and gamballs fetche,
To chewe vppon the spewinge bit,
and at his foes to retche
With harneste houfe: as thou canste learne
the fraile retyryng man
To treade in trace of trouthe outryghte
in truth as he beganne.
In fyne, suppresse thy lewde desyre:
the more thou haste in store
The lesse passe thou for pouertye,
do trauaile for no more.
Sence thou accomplishde haste thy wille,
and purchesde wealthe at ease:
O be not lyke Vmidius,
whose rauenouse disease.
It is not longe for to discourse.
he, that he myght vpturne
His coumed coyne, with shouiles wyde,
him selfe durste not adorne
With any weede that wealthe besettes,
but lyke a miser ryghte,
More ragged then a tatterde coulte
did passe the poreste wyghte
In peces and in tatter wagges:
whylste that he had his wynde,
And drewe his breathe, he spent no iote,
a fraide that he shoulde fynde
Neade in oulde age: but (loo) his wyfe
of greakishe dames most stoute:
With grounded axe cutte him in twaine,
and rifted him throughoute.
What? is it beste lyke Meuius

Couetouse.

the makeaway, to lyue?
Or shalle I lyke Nementanus

prodigall personnes.

my gooddes to giglotts geue?

Poet.

A goodlye dishe, who taught e the this?
why doste thou thus compare
Extremyties? Is there no shifte,
all spende, or els all spare?
I would the not a nipfar thinge,
nor yet a niggarde haue,
Wilte thou therefore, a drunkard be,
a dingthrifte, and a knaue?
There is a difference betwixte
the gelded Eunuke Tane:
And Herniosus hote as coles,
that rancke vnclenly swaine.
A meane there is in matters all,
and certaine bondes be pyghte,
On this syde or beyonde the whiche
nothyng thats good canne lyghte.
But after longe vagaryes fetchde,
to come to my requeste,
How happeneth it, his owne estate
that no man lyketh beste?
But teenes, if that his neyghbours goate
a bygger bagge doth beare
Then his, or yeeldes her mylke sum deale
more flowyng and more cleare:
Nor euer will compare him selfe
vnto the greater sorte,
Whose state is base, and bad as his,
who lyues in meane apporte:
But roues, and shoots at further marks,
now him he doth contende
To passe in coyne: now him again,
and so there is no ende.
For he that thincks to coate all men
and all to ouergoe,
In runnyng shall sum ritcher fynde
who still will bid him hoe.
Suche posters may be likened well
vnto the carters oulde
Of forayne worlde, on mounte Olimpe
whose carts when they were rould
With gyrefull sway, by coursers swifte,
to winne the glistring branche:
They ierted vp their horse with whippes,
that forth they made them launche
With boysterouse noyse, lyke thunder clappes,
they made the quaueryng soyle
To dindle and to shake againe,
in hope of lawrell spoyle.
They neuer had respecte to those,
that once were caste behynde,
But scourde to geue the reste the slip,
wyth course as wyghte as wynde.
Ryght semblablye, this carkynge kynde
of men doe neuer eye
The route, that they haue ouerrun
in goodes, but haste and hye
To retche the resydue, and soe
do ame aboue theyr strengthe,
To pricke, and pearse those marks, & whits,
that lye withoute their lengthe.
Loe this is euen the veray grounde,
this is the perfytte cause,
That most mislyke them selues so muche,
and can no season pause
In blesfulnes: and this is it
why very selde we fynde
A man so cloyed with the worlde
as he that new hathe dynde
Is with his meate and that thers none
which in their extreame dayes
Will parte from lyfe as full from feast
to goe theyr homewarde wayes,
To bannish all excesse of talke,
let this suffyce as now,
And leste thou shouldste suppose by space

Crispine a vvriter agaīst couetouse to excessiue in talke.

my talke myghte ouergrow
In bulke the bleareeyde Crispins roole
whose tounge on pattans free
Did retchlesse run, euen here I cease
not one worde more of me.

The seconde Satire [of Horace].

The stewes, and stained house of drabbes,
th' appotycaryes neate,
The beggers, and the tumblynge trulles
the horehunters, the greate
And flockynge rakehell rabblement
of ragges, and raskals al,
Be pensife, and throughe plungde with panges
to see the funeralle
Of Tigelle, trustye frinde of theires,
who whilste he lyued here,
Dyd carolle shrille, and trimly tune
his sonets sweete, and cleare.
Their cause of greafe is sone expressde:
he was both free and francke.
They hanged on him, his purse kepte them
so croustye, and so crancke.

Couetous

But this man, cleane contrarye wyse,
t'eschue, and shun the name
Of spendall, and of scatter good,
and fearyng such lyke blame
That doth ensue outragiouse spence,
he will not geue nor lende
One crosse of coyne, to clothe or feede
his nedie naked frende.
An other, if thou question him

Prodigall

why that he doth deuoure
His syre, and his gransyres goodes,
and turneth towne, and tower
All into noughte, throughe greedynes
and foule delyting throte:
And why that he by gluttonye,
and stomake raging hote
Miscounsailed, doth make a sale
of landes, and lordshippe wyde
To bye such curiouse cates, as beste
will downe his gullet glyde:
His answer is not farre to fetch,
posthaste he will the saye,
That he doth thus set cocke on hoope
and lauishly outlay
This mucke, & drosse the worlde hath sent,
because he woulde not seeme
Lyke one of carlish abiecte minde,
so vyle a thing t'esteme
That answer say the neuer thriftes,
was geuen in the Cue,
Well fare his hearte: the chuffes the same
with deepe disprayse pursue.
Fusidius, a landed man,
a man whose fertyle feyldes,
Whose medowes fayre, & glebye groundes
reuenues ample yeeldes:
A man by art of vsarye,
by guyle, and treachers trade,
By fraude, and couin full of goods,
is veray sore afrayd
To spende amongste good companie,
leaste on such prankes might springe
A iauall, or a ruffins name,
or sum such heynouse thynge.
This Fusidie, to fille his purse,
and to enritch his store,
What soeuer cums by vsers skylle,
to get, and gender more,
He lays it to the captaine heape,
whereof it rose, and grewe,
He takes by yeare the fiftes of all,
and so he bredeth newe.
And if a man through negligence,
perhapps be caste behynde,
At parting he shall pay for that
such fetches will he fynde.
Heil go me lyke a craftye coulte,
and listen euerye where,
To vnderstande the names of those
that late delyuered were
From gouernment of masters sharpe,
and ginnes to weare the weede,
That onlye manhood doth beseme:
there, there he sowes his seede.
He mings deceite, he plyes the boxe,
he strues me suche a trayne,
That straighte he is with them to bringe,
(God wotes) vnto their payne.
Th' unbridled brutes, the younckers that
are paste the cure, and charge
Of Tutors graue, lyke lustye laddes,
do loue, to roue at large,
To roiste, and reuel wyth the beste,
in suits of silkes to flante:
Th' harde headed fathers they denye
such spences vaine to graunte:
Then cums this foxe, this Fusidie,
wyth money preste in hande,
He byes before their fathers death
their lyueloode, and theyr lande,
Who hearynge such malengin wroughte
doth not abrade, and crye,
Uppon the greateste God of all,
that flings the fates from hye?
But they, the sillye fonded fooles,
(such be the youthfull braines)
Do feaste him for his louesom loue,
and highly prayse his paines.
Certes, a man would scarse beleue,
how muche this louely wighte,
Whome others loue, doth loue him selfe,
how he doth decke, and dighte
His surly corps in ritche aray,
what table he doth kepe,

Menedemus

Almoste as greate as did the snudge,
whome Terence toulde to stepe,
And syncke in sorowes, and in sobbes,
for that he chaste his sonne
To Asie, there to pyke his crums,
which deed vnkynde ons donne:
He brake vp house, put myse to grasse,
him selfe fed nothing fyne,
With colewortes, and such carters cates,
ofte woulde the caytife dyne.
But here, if sum precysly aske,
what doth this processe meane?
It is to shew, that whilste sum men
take care to kepe them cleane
From blame, and blotte of one grosse sinne,
incontinente they are caughte,
Intangled with the contrary:
lyke dullerdes neuer taughte.

A nevv fangled minion of that age.

Malchine, to make him singuler,
a fashion freshe hath found,
He swings and swoupes frō streete, to streete,
with gowne that sweepes the grounde,
And thincke you Malchine wants his mates?
no fye, that were amisse,
An other pleasaunte headed chylde,
in no sauce lyketh this.
To proue himselfe a pretye man,
and quaynte in his deuise,
He maks his garment to be shapde,
not of so large a syse:
For wote you what? he coortalls it,
it hardly hydes his rumpe,
Rufillus, heis perfumde with muske
Gorgoni, smelles oth pumpe.
Meane hathe no mantion in the flocke.
they kepe no steedy stay,
In matter, and in nouell shape,
they varie euery day,
Sum one, or other lodes man stille,
and what that he doth vse,
The resydue may not ne, wil,
for fashion sake refuse.
Fashions in all our gesterings,
fashions in our attyre,
Which (as the wise haue thoughte) do cum,
and goe in circled gyre.
Fashions, in notting of the heare,
in paringe of the nayles,
In Otho, and mustacho beardes,
thus fashions neuer fayles.
In thother sexe, who would rehearse
their fashion as they be,
Might euen as well by augrisme tell,
the grauell of the Sea.
Those curiouse, crousting courtly dames,
whose spangled vestures sheene
With stones and pearles, of pride, and pryse,
and Emrauds heeuenly grene,
Doth geue the glimmering, gloriouse shewe,
that feedes the gasers eyes,
And dasles quite the simple lokes,
with leames, that from them flyes:
The world perchaunce doth thinke them gay,
and in a chiefe degree:
They be no better creatures,
then other people be:
Noe outwarde thinge doth better vs,
no not our noble kinde:
Not perles, or golde: but pearlesses gifts
be praysd in Godly mynd.
All els is toyes, and all is vaine,
and all when they haue tryde,
Will once confesse these things to be,
but nutriments of pryde.

The thirde satyre [of Horace]

It is a faulte, a common fault,
that all our minstrels vse:
The more you seme to craue a songe,
the more they will refuse.
Request them not, they neuer cease:
right so would Tigell fayre,
A singer of Sardinia
thoughe Cesar should not spare,
For his, and for his fathers sake
sum musike to require.
Yet woulde his humble suite ofte tymes
cum shorte of his desyre.
He myghte haue forsde him therunto:
but Tigelle, if it had
Cumde in his braine, woulde of him selfe,
take on as he were mad,
He, Bacchus ballets woulde recorde,
sumtymes the trible parte,
Sum tymes, the quauerynge deskantdure
sumtimes, to vaunte his arte,
A boysterouse basse he bounsed out,
and iumbled on his stringes,
No dram he had of constancy:
so fickle in his thinges.
Ofte tymes, he ran, as fled from foe,
oftetymes in solemne pace
He woulde proceade, as thoughe he were
in seruynge Iunos grace.
Sumtymes, an hundreth watyng men.
sumtymes he kepte but ten:
Sumtymes he spoke of potentats,
and on his honour then
Was all his talke: sumtymes, let me
one dishe well dighted haue,
(Thus would he say), and one course gowne
my corps from coulde to saue.
To this good husbande, that coulde be
with pittance smale content,
If sum good frendly man, of hope
ten hundred crownes had lent:
Within fyue days, no groate he had,
in purse, ne yet in cheste:
Al nighte he walkde, whilste morning came,
all day he tooke his reste.
Was neuer man so litle stayde.
but sum, will say to me,
And what are you? sum selye sainte?
nay, halfe as ill as he:
One Mauius, did frumpe, and floute
at Neuie (then awaye:)
A frende of his, a stander by,
what serray, what I say?
(Quod he): doste thou not know thy selfe,
nor thincke that we the know?

Meuius.

My selfe, yes, I wincke at my selfe:
therfore, a wincking dawe.

Po.

This is a wicked, witlesse loue,
not to be wincked at:
Synce thou doste know, and see thy sinne,
and vse to wyncke at that:
What meaneste thou, in others faults,
so pearsantly to prye

Epidaure taken for all kynde of serpents.

With Egles syghte, or Epidaurs
that sutle serpentes eye?
But if in case, an other carpe
sum cryme he sees in thee,
He is too rashe, and vndiscreete,
and no good fellowe he.
A sheepe, a verey gestyng stocke,
he treades his shoe awrye,
His gowne sitts slacke, his heade vnkempte,
vnciuyle, by and by.
But he his good, and godly to,
and one that wils the well,
And thoughe his bodye be not braue,
greate witte may in him dwell.
Well, ryfle thow thy conscience,
and looke thou be not led
With any vyce, which nature hath,
or custome in the bred.
In feildes vnforowde frute is none,
for brakes all ouer growes:
To blow retreate, and to returne
from whence my matter flowes:
If we doe strongly loue a thinge,
and lyke it very muche,
Thoughe faultes in it be euident,
yet we will see none suche,
I would in race of amytie
such dotage we might vse,
And that vertue by honest name,
such curtsye would excuse.
For as the father for ill shape,
his sonne doth not disdayne:
So frends, at times must beare with frends,
though faultes to them remayne.
The sonne he squynts, the father sayth,
he hath a pincking eye,
His legges misshapde, the father sayth,
his legge but standes a wrye.
The parents pleasure much to prayse,
and prattle to the ladde,
Thy foote is very great (sayth he)
thy foote is swelde to bad.
Hast thou a frend that dyets hard?
Well, cal him thrifty than:
Hast thou a frende, a bragging lout?
call him a iollye man,
The kinge of fellowes amongst frends,
for him no better name.
Hast thou a frend with face of brasse,
that bragges without all shame?
Compt him of stearne, and haughtye hearte,
that wel dare speake his minde,
That wil not flatter, nor yet feare,
how soeuer blowes the wynde.
If he be suttle, cal him sage,
if wylye, cal him wise:
This, thisis it, that winnes thy frendes,
and wun in frendship tyes.
But wee, full ill construction,
of vertue selfe do make,
And eftsones do eclipps the prayse,
thats due for vertues sake.
For, if with vs be conuersaunte
sum humble lowly soule,
We call him goose, and disarde doult,
and fowlye fatted nowle.
Add if a man deale waryly,
and beare him selfe vpryght
Amongst such folke as foster fraude,
and practise slylye sleighte,
For name of skilful, wyttye man,
and one that takes good heede.
He is a deepe dissembling man,
and crafty for his meede,
If that a man can not conceale,
but tell his verdicte free,
(As I Mæcenas patrone myne,
haue done full oft to the:)
If that he speake to one thats whishte,
or loketh on his booke,
Or talke not all in printe, or tune,
(say we) this coddes heade, (looke)
This asse, doth want his common sence.
woes me and out, (alas)
How doe we aggrauate suche lawes,
as gainst our selues doth pass?
For faultles (doubtles) borne is none,
and he is euen the beste,
Whose lyfe syncere admitteth fiew,
and with the least is preste.
A frindely man, (as mete it is)
the good with bad wil wey,
If muche be bad, and more be good,
let soulderde frendship stay.
Let vs in equall ballance paise,
and do as we would haue:
Wouldst thou thine own offences cloke?
in others faultes not raue.
It is but right, that mum should mum.
and perdon, perdon craue.
For short, in that the vyce of wrathe
will be our tenant still,
And brutish part of modie minde,
wil lodge affections ill:
Why do we not by reasons rule,
and by proportion iust,
Deme of the cryme as it is done,
and mulcte it as we must?
If that the maister byd his man,
from bord to take a dishe,
The man dothe sipple vp the brothe,
or feede on broken fishe:
His maister hangs him straight vpponte:
who wil not hould him mad

Labio a lauishe toungued losell. vvho still vvas barking at August ther vpon compted madde.

As Labeo? and why not thou
as frantike, and as bad?
Thy frende offendes, and graunts his guilt,
thou wilt him not forgeue,
What art thou then? a testye churle,
great pittye thou shouldst lyue.
If thou him hate and shun his syght,
(as Drusos detters doe)
Thou shalt be dreste, lyke Drusos selfe,
he for to lende to moe,

A creditous,

Doth sheare, and shaue, and powle, and press,
well, when his audit cums,
When he most hopes of bestrecept,
and to suruewe his sums,
Then, gawlye wordes (for feare of strypes
(when he his coumpts hath red)
He doth put vp, with cap, and knee,

A good felovv

at those which from him fled.
Euander cums vnto my house,
perhappes, he drinks to much,
Or breaks a iugge, or staines my gowne,
or eats my dyat, such
As was preparde, and plaste for me,
is he the lesse for this,
A merry grigge, a iocande frend,
for euery sillye misse?
Should I go baull a maine at him,
as he had piekde my purse,
Or me discryde, his pledge denyed
or done sum thing, thats worse?
Who almost hath at any time
thought faltes of equall weight?
Philosophers, (that bookish broode)
maye teache the thinge by sleight
But skille, and practyse counterplea,
and profit it denyes,
Profit, the nurse of iust, and right,

Iustice rather by profit then nature,

as tyme, and sequell tryes.
When man abandond first the earth,
and scraulde out of the moulde,
(A dum vnwyldye creature)
through hunger and through could,
For foode, and harboure gan they fray:
at firste, with toothe and nayle,
And then, wt clubbes, and then with swords.
which vse had taught t'assayle:
Whilst wordes, ambasdors of the heart
for to bewraye the minde
Were putin vre: and names applyed,
then to conserue their kinde,
They ceaste from warres: made reare vp walles:
and poundinge lawes did make,
That none should filche, nor any robbe,
that none shoulde wedlocke breake.
For, or that cytyes had theyr walls,
or Helen came to Troye,
Haue women bathde the worlde in blood,
(the cause of dyre annoye)
But of the slayne was no recorde.
they raunged, in eatche where,
No spousailes knowne more, brute then beastes,
the make knew not his feare.
The mightieste man, like Bull in herde,
did wreake the meaner sorte:
Thus, graunte you must, that feare of wronge,
set ladye lawe in forte.
If thou wilte kalender in minde,
the consequents of tydes,
By noting longe dissente of tyme,
in what effecte it glydes:
Well maiste thou see, that nature telth,
What lyke, what leaue we muste,
Yet nature hath no pollycye,
to seuer wronge from iust.
But reason beareth stroke in that:
and profit patrons ryghte,
If reason reele, then profytte pants,
reason saues both, by mighte,
And as she doth, so will not shee
vse argument, that he
Which stealthe from hedge, and stealth from churche,
in lyke offence should be.
Let discipline alleyied be
in measure to the vyce,
When lyghte correction may take place,
fare not in tyraunts wyse;
Ne yet, when greate outrage is wroughte,
with ferule doe not stryke.
Where iustice slakes, there feare decayes,
when thou makste all faults lyke,
As purloyninge, with burglarye,
or robbinge by the way,
Trespasse wyth cryme, doth not thy doume
foredome to vs, and say?
That thou indede, in lyke effecte,
wouldste execute the thinge,
If choyse, by voyce, had hoste the vp,
inuested once a Kynge:
A kyng, eche stoicke is a kynge,
for stoicks all be wyse:
And, wysdome is it selfe a wealthe:
Throughe wealthe do princes ryse:
Wysedom is all: but thou arte wyse:
then safelye, be of chere,
Thou art fayre, stronge, and eke a kinge,
a cobler though thou were.
What wilte thou more? Sto: yes, Chrysip saies,
the wyse man mends no moyle,
Nor soles no shoes: Poe: lo, thus thou weanes
to turne me to a toyle.
The wyse man, thoughe he leaue the acte,
reteynes the arte, as how?
Hermogines sings not at al:
Yet musyke he doth know.
Alfenus made away his tooles,
broke shop vp longe a goe,
Is he not an artifycer,
or not a crafte man, thoe?
The wyse knowes moste, who knoweth moste
muste beare awayethe name
Of facultye: debarre him not,
but let him haue the same:
To rule a realme in facultie,
which, none but wise can tel:
If they can rule, though they rule not,
Kynges are they by this spell.
The stoicke wise: the wise can rule:
to can, is full as muche
As though he did: a Realme he can:
then, let his name be suche.
Can rule, is rule: none can but wise:
the stoicke only wyse:
The stoike therfore only kynge
by this so strayte a sise.
Yea stoike, art thou creat kynge,
then must thou mainteyne port:

VVitte alone insufficiente in regalitie, if it be bereft of other solemne and laudable appertinents.

Els, wagges in stretes wil twitch thy beard
and make at the a sport.
Except thou take the to thy handes,
and fence the with a sticke:
Theile make the braste for agonye,
in crowding the so thicke.
And thou a wise, witpuisaunt kinge.
that houlds thy crown by witte:
Shalt be enforst, to howle and crye,
(for suche a state vnfitte.)
In breife, when thou a kinge at meales,
dost ryse, or syt the downe,
So sore precyse thou art that none
will byde the, but sum clowne.
But if that I miscarye ought,

Cryspine.

my frends will make the best,
So I to them, so they to me,
and this ingendreth rest.
Thus, doe I passe my pleasaunte dayes
and feare no stormye thinge,
This priuate life I would not chaunge
with thee, pretensed kyng.

The fourth satyre [of Horace].

The Poet Aristophanes
Eupolis, and Cratine,
And auncients moe, whose interludes
are saust with sayings fine,
If any person were mislyude
in theft, or leachers lore,
Or wher a roisting quareller,
they woulde display him sore,
Hence, Lusill boroud al his vaine,
those presidents he tooke,
The matter sharpe, the feete but chaungde,
the forme ful sleke did looke.
In deede, the sence was too to tarte,
within an howers space,
Two hundreth verses he would make,
thought he, a gift of grace.
And would not moue his foote with al.
But huddle he would roule,
To halfe might wel bene scummed of,
an ydle chatting soule.
A milke sop long to pen a woorke,
much more to pen it wel,
The length is not material,
the scapes he must expell.
Crispinus, that greate length louer
with finger doth me call,
And darreins combats, if I dare:
should Crispine me appall?
Nay, thers my gloue geue velom here,
geue iudges, tyme, and place,
Lets see which one can more indite,
and wyth a better grace.
Well haue the godds appointed me,
of no corragious witte,
And speakinge seelde that I ne shoulde,
confounde the foole with it.
But thou (syr Crispine) in thy mynde,
assembles fansies ofte,
As bellowes sup and beltch out wyndes,
to make the yron softe.
O lerne not so to puffe and blowe,
saincte Fannie followe well,
That thou bestowde in surlye tombe

Fannie an arche Asse or blockheade in vvhose memoriall vvas erected a block.

thy statues here may dwell.
As for my woorkes obliuion
will raze them out of minde:
A fewe or none that will, or dare
behoulde them can I fynde.
Wote you not why? corrosyue style,
is corsey to the eye.
They dreame a thing that blamed here,
their counterfette should lye.
They dreame a truth for fynde me one,
amongste the sonnes of men:
But loue of goods, or loue of rule,
doth fonde him now and then.
Sum lyue catesnd in Cupids chaines,
and sum loue blasinge golde,
And sum a sum of syluer whyte,
or curraunte mettall wolde.
Sume kepe exchaunge from Easte, to Weste,
and sore vpon the Seas:
Toste and retoste, (lyke wherlwynd duste
ekynge the yr owne disease
For mainteyn a unce of gotten stocke,
or els to make it more.
All these do stande in awe of rymes,
and hate the Poets sore.
The Poets proyne, beware (say they)
that they may ieste their fill,
They spare no speache, they spare no frende,
fooles lauishe, and to ill.
And if their toyes in letters lymde
be printed once in booke:
Then all the worlde muste take the vewe,
and all sortes on them looke.
If this be true: then harke agayne,
I am no Poet, I.
No Poet such as is discryude,
am not I so? and why?
Not hea Poet, that can make
an haltinge hudlynge verse:
Nor he in paltrye daylie talke
that can his tale reherse.
Him Poet dub, whose wit is sharpe,
whose mynde doth mounte on hye,
Whose throat is shyrle in trumpet wyse,
to coutche mennes acts in skye.
Therfore demaunde hath once bene made,
if comedies myghte be
A poecye, sythence in them
the spirit puffes not free.
No gourgiouse sounde in worde or sence,
saue that in verse it runs:
From prose yt differs but by foote,
but (lo) the father burns
In peltinge chafe, for that his sonne
on wantons madded is,
And leaues a spouse of noble dowre,
this breedes a tempest, this.
And that with torch n twylightinge
he treades the romye stretes,
How say you haue not commodies
theyr vigors, and their spreetes.
Old Pomponie, if he had lyude,
what stirre now would he kepe,

Pomponius an impacient nygarde.

(thinge comicall) because his sonne,
is drent in debt so depe?
And what thoughe father Pomponie
should grate his gaule in twaine,
Affection makes no poecie,
but lustie, loftye vayne.
Its not inough to pen a verse,
in vernishde wordes and pure,
Eche worde alone must haue his sounde,
and seme not to demure.
Those simple wordes playmakers vse,
those vse Lusill and I.
So nyse, so neate, so numberouse.
that alls not worth a flye.
Disorder but the glydinge gate,
the wordes appeareth tame,
No glose there is of maiestie,
not such as in this same.
Foule moodi Mars broke brasen bars
bare boulstred boulwarkes back.
These wordes transposde, yet eche one hath
of Poesye a smacke:
And thus much now, an other tyme
if rymes allowde may be.
But now, why should this kynde of style,
be so suspect in me.
Promoters seeke, and pere eche wher,
and vse to woorke much woe,
Accusing and molesting men,
whersoeuer they do goe,
Feared, and much adrad of theues
and losels loose of life,
Not fearde of those that pilfer not,
nor broch no brabling strife.
Admit thou wart a naughtie packe,

Birrus and Cestas, for al naughtie packes.

as diuers other be,
I am not one that doth promote,
why art thou fraide of me?
My verses geue no gase from walls,
ne yet in tauernes fly,
Not Tigell nor such alegunners
my workes do ouerprye.
I shew them but to very frendes,
and at their great request:
Not to eche hobb, nor euery wher.
sum be that thincke it best,
Their quaynt deuises to proclame,
in market, fayre, and marte:
To reade them graue, & sounde them braue,
and to vnfoulde their arte.
Such pleasure haue pride practisers,
who do it not to mende,
Nor learne a decencie in thinges,
for no such honest ende.
A mallipert a merchaunte I
of malice (thou wilt say)
I vse this talke: whence issude this,
gainst me that thou dost lay?
Or which of my companions
hath this instilde to the?
Who pincheth at his frend, not prest,
or if he burned be,
Doth not alleuyate his blame,
who scoffes to make men smyle,
Who plyes for to be plausible,
and doth his flowtinge file,
Who can inuente things neuer mente,
who nothinge can conceale:
Such one is naughtes, beware of him,
and naughte to him reueale.
Sumtymes, at table thou shalte see
a dosen more or lesse,
Eche seekynge eche ortwharte the thums
with tauntes, and tearmes to dresse.
Their hoste they spare, for manner sake,
till Bacchus tyde be vp:
Then out muste al, mine hoste, myne hoste
is scande at euery cup.
Rayling thou hates, yet doste thou coumpte
raylers but mery men,
Good felows, francke, and free of speache:
If I haue iested then,
At Rufills tast Gorgonies smel,
(two paragons of pryde)
I am no freatinge ghoste therefore,
nor slaundrouse, all things tryde.
If chaunce we talke of Petills pranckes
how he from tower stole,
A massye peece of bullion golde,
(to twyne thy tale in hole)
Thou shaps it thus: (as is thy trade)
Petille, I know him well,
I haue sum cause to speake for him,
for he and I did dwell
Of childerne little in one house,
my fellow, and my frende,
Much hath he done for me at times,
I founde him euer kynde.
And yet I maruayle how he coulde
rub out this trespasse so.

Logille a fish vvhyt vvithout and black vvithin.

(Lo) here a craftye postles parte,
loe here a Logille lo
Ha, false malignaunte wreaking minde,
this vyce I do expell.
As cancre freate, from hearte and booke,
moste true it is I tell,
For certaintie I lyke it not,
then licence me the more,
To gesse aloufe, not hard to scratche
but clawe about the sore.
My father, he did vsuallie,
dehorte me from this sin,
By manifolde examples, which,
through talke he woulde bringe in.
Still warning me not to ingrate,
nor speke not much to lyue,

Olde Horace his talke.

But thryftylye, contentedly
enioye that he would geue.

Albie and Barns Scatter gooddes.

Maiste thou not see younge Albie now
how he is cumde to naughte,
Backbyting Bar most beggerlike?
Ingrayle them in thy thoughte.
Two presidents, that thou ne shouldste
thy fathers good mispende.
But when he woulde dehorte from loue,
his talke was to this ende.

Sectan wanton and amourouse.

Dissemblable to Sectans sorte,
no brothelmonger be,

So Trebon.

Kepe wedlocke chaste, let Trebons name
be warninge vnto thee.
The wyse men with their moralls sage,
by reason coulde the guide,
Suffyseth me that I can geue,
such counsayle as I tryde.
And if my sawes in time take place,
for teacher haste thou none,
When groweth, and yeres shal make the man,
youthes shipwracke will be gone.
Thus woulde he turne my plyant youth,
and what he wild in worde,
For patterne he woulde bid me marke,
The lyfe of sum good Lorde.
So, if he would inhibite me,
that is no godly deede
My sonne (sayth he): and here vpon,
sum foule reporte will breede.
For euen like as when neigbours dye,
the sickmans chaunging luste,
For feare doth stay, and is contente,
to cum to dyet iuste:
So skillesse youth to see defame
of others, may take heede,
And slip not into vyces snare,
nor listen to her reede.
Hereby I stayed my tempting age,
and did no haynouse sin
In easye crymes, and veniall
I haue bene trapped in.
And these, (no doubte) wil wayne a waye
and ebb, as they did ryse,
By helpe of yeares, by frendes reproofe
and by myne owne aduyce.
As I lye in my bed sumtymes,
on matters thus I muse,
Thrifte would do thus, righte dothe diswade
that I shoulde thus me vse.
Thus coulde I make my chearfull frendes:
this was a foolishe parte:
Was I so fondlye ouerseene?
a foole sone flings his carte,
Thus do I mutter in my mynde,
Ere whyle at cardes I play,
(A faulte, amongste the meaner faultes)
forgeue me, Thou saieste nay.
Then Poets all preaz on preas on
helpe at a pinche: no dreede,
We be so ryotouse a route;

The multitude cannot be led from their fancies, no not for truthes sake,

who sayes but we shall speede?
As Iewes do measure all by nyghte
that none dare them forsake:
So we by number will men force,
in league with vs to take.

The fifthe Satyre [of Horace]

Pertinax.
God saue you gentyll Commodus,
howe haue you fared longe

Commodus.
Nay veryly euen as you see.
well lykyng fatte, and strong,
Of credite neuer better I:
what vrgent cause doothe make
You at this tyme from sacred soyle,
your iourney for to take?

Pertinax.
When we went to the holy towne,
from Englishe flocke infecte,
Our want was wealth, and coyne at wyll,
we were an happye secte.
But our long staye was oure decaye,
men grudgd to geue vs more:
And Sarum with hys subtile booke

B. Salis.

hath cropte our credite sore.
Before, we gaue a countenaunce,
to all the worlde so wyde:
That our intent was wholly bent,
to haue our quarell tryde.
Suche cautels had we to beare of,
that who gainst vs did wryte,
We swore he was falne from the Churche,
of gyddynesse or spyte.
We bare them down that they were nought
rashe, raylyng, and yll spoken,
Lewde, and vnlearnde: but nowe our stythe
of forgery is broken.
Sarum hath walkde so waryly,
(it greuethe me to name hym)
That moste of men doo see his truthe,
we wote not why to blame hym.
Nowe they dispaire oure prostrate cause,
and of our safe retourne:
And suffer vs in beggery,
(Ah silly case) to mourne.

Commodus.
Ah silly case, nay silly fooles,
you myght haue lyued here,
In wealth and blisse, and euen as there,
haue kepte your conscience clere.

Pertinax.
In deede your letter writ to me,
dyd signifye no lesse:
But howe that you can vse it so,
I woulde you should expresse.
Synce I came laste into the realme,
it was toulde me of trouthe,
That you aboue the rest of men,
vse to be freattynge wrothe
With ceremonies, is it so?
Iesu, what shoulde one hope,
They say that you doo caste them of,
as brought in by the Pope.
Can you speake so precisely here:
and beare vs so in hande?
You are no doubte no Catholike
as now the case doth stande.
No Catholyke: Ah Pertinax
thou arte a mery man.

Commodus
I speake, I graunte against the pope,
and speake the worste I can,
And profitte him, yet more then you,
(perhappes ye gin to muse)
But harke to me, and listen well
what practise I doe vse.
When you did cut the salt sea fome,
with framed timbre borde,
And yeade to Louaine there to heare,
the Latine Romishe worde,
Then storminge in my thoughtfull breste,
and sharpe beset with cares,
In mortall waues I wandred still,
in maze of my affayres.
Feare caste in all extremities.
what shoulde I do, thoughte I?
To sanctuarie of papistes
to Louaine shoulde I flye?
That were away to begger me
to bringe me vnto neede:
And in so doinge, I shoulde woorke,
the mother churche smalle meede.
Æneas came into my mynde,
that feynde him selfe a greeke,
And by that meanes made manye soules,
Lord Dytis hall to seeke.
He can not hurte his foe the moste
that kepes the furst away:
I was resolude to kepe me close,
and see a furder stay,
I sayde my wounded conscience
did prickle more and more,
And wyshed after some of skyll
to remedye my sore.
I sayde my doubte was dangerous,
and therfore fayne woulde haue
Some clarkly man, of insight deepe,
within the same to raue.
Thys was the tenour of my tale,
that I woulde common fayne,
If some learnde man on thother syde,
woulde take on hym the payne.
The Protestants be mercyfull,
and glad to wyn vs all:
In brefe the chiefe woulde me at length
to common with them call.
Theyr reasonyng was to and fro,
to wyn me yf they coulde:
And I began as debonayre,
to render vp the houlde.
Now hearken (oulde frende Pertinax)
what was the spedy key:
To ope the locke of credits forte,
for me to beare a swey.
He that was counted too to fearse
and angry wyth the Pope,
I went to him, and prayde him ofte
my conscience for to grope.
Parted from hym, I woulde proteste,
and openly woulde say:
That suche one was the greatest clarke
that was on lyue thys daye.
He that was holden moste of zeale,
and to the worlde the best:
Hym woulde I prayse aboue the sonne,
and so I purchast reste.
No more demaunde made of my faythe.
I faynde me very ielous
Of other men, and sayde they were
drawebackes, and nothing zealous.
And still I praysde my confessours,
and made them so to swell,
Such pulpit hornetts by my meanes,
That none durst with them mel.
And what that they to feede theyr minde,
Or cholor ells would speake:
I maintaynde it with toothe and nayle,
in all that I coulde creake.
Then was I dubde as true precise,
and faythfull by and by,
And none was compted hoate enough,
saue he, and he, and I.
I whysperde to and fro a pace,
and playde my parte so free:
That quarells stept vp fast and fast,
A noble game to see.
And that the rest might learne to stoupe,
and I might grow vp still:
An other fetche by peecemeale, I
into them dyd instil.
My mayster lysten well (quod I)
take kepe, what I shal say.
Me thinks this church, this englishe churche
is clogged at this daye
With ceremonies, more then needes,
to tell you at a word,
I would haue all things iust, as they
were left vs by the Lord
This knew I was the deyntye dishe,
that so their passions fed:
I am not now to learne I trow,
to bring a babe to bed.
Now whether for true conscience,
or els that they might seeme
Sole gospellers, and that the worlde,
might so of them esteme:
Or els through our suggestions,
they gnawed so this bone,
That O good God, I would to God
they had bene let alone.
Nay trust me truly Pertinax
men would haue bene ful fayne,
To thrust out all those gospellers,
and sende for you agayne.
How say you, was not this a drift.
and that a drift of hope?
Am I not now, as lege as you,
to our good Lord the pope?
If there were talke of gospels grace,
of francknesse of our lybertie,
Then would I whet my tongue to speake,
agaynst the gift of pollicye.
And that our seruice was consumde
onlye in adoracion:
Wheras the pryme church vsde one prayer,
the rest in exhortacion.
That ministers, (why should they not?)
might goe euen like the rest.
In suits of silke, in theynes of goldd,
apparelde with the best.
That ministers might take and leaue
their orders when they would:
I went aboute to make al naught
by al the meanes I coulde.
This was my greatest anchoure hold,
I euer caste it thus:
The worse it fared with their churche,
the better much for vs.
Untoward case vnluckye case,
Ah Pertinax I say
(As erst I sayde) a trumpe a trumpe
was caste downe in our waye.
And he that caste it, hath surueyde.
and markde our cardes so well,
That al oure driftes is nowe fordone,
and you abrode must dwel.
As for my selfe, who but my selfe
I neuer felte lyke ease:
Not stoutest of the protestants
dare me in ought displease.
I made my matche I trowe with suche,
as dare not but vpbeare me:
What if I knowe their giltie prankes,
and therevppon they feare me?
Those wryng, and wrest the meaner sorte,
whose myndes and tongues are free,
And so imbecill all theyr strengthe,
that they are naught to me.
I nowe can dubbe a protestant,
and eke disdubbe agayne:
And make a Papiste graduate,
if he wyll quite my payne.
Liuings are myne, geuynges are myne,
the countenance is myne:
Promotions come to me alone,
or where I will assygne.
Yea Pertinax if thou wilte come,
of Laberinth ne drede,
I can conducte thee safe and sounde,
by vertue of a threde
I knowe who plaies the catte, and howe
her ioly kittles mouses,
I and my patrons leaue small lore,
in some right famous houses.
And if there be not speedie healpe.
against me and my fooles.
Ile driue their Gospell from the churche,
and learnyng from the Schooles.
In deede I studye harde my selfe,
but to what ende or why?
That I myght gette the greatest fee,
and put all others by.
As nowe I am, I coulde not wyshe
almoste a better staye:
If the precyse crepe vp agayns,
I knowe my wonted playe
In the meane tyme I tell them playne
they are the greatest clarkes,
And that for theyr greate constancie,
the totall worlde them markes.
Yea, I can tell them clawyngly
(but that is in their eare.)
That those whyche haue deposde them thus,
are persecuters cleare.
And if that some by pollicie,
in time doo not preuent them,
Ile egge them on to speake some thyng.
whiche spoken may repent them.
Well yf that those get vp agayne,
I kepe my iolly stay:
And if sir Pertinax you come,
I wyll not go away.
So that come papist, or precyse,
or formall conformable,
The precisde Papist kepe his roume,
lyke promontorie stable.
And yet, yf thou as palpable,
my conscience couldst grope,
Of honestie, I am full true,
vnto my lorde the Pope.

Shaklockes profession.

May happs when I haue filde my purse,
with takyng all this payne.
I will go turne from Commodus
to Pertinax agayne.

Pertinax
What Commodus, thou turnes thy selfe
as one shoulde turne the groate,
Turne rounde, or else thou will be spyde
in turninge ofte thy coate.
Becawse you talked of gropinge erste,
howe chauncde it heretofore,
That you agaynst the blessed Pope,
so solemnlye haue swore.
Speake oute man, are you in a dumpe?
howe durste you so farre go?
Iuraui lingua, sed mentem
non iuratam gero.

Commodus
I tould them then, I spoke with tongue.
but neuer mente it so.

Pertinax
Why do you heare their seruice still,
a thing of such abusion?

Commodus,
I could not els abyde with them,
to helpe them to confusion.

Pertinax.
What say you to the precyse flocke,
are they resolude that waye?

Commodus
Sum parte of them is like my selfe,
the conformable say
That halfe of those whiche busylye
against those orders clatter,
Are Papistes ranke: as those may see
whiche will suruey the matter.

Pertinax
Why doo they make so straite accompt
of thynges that bee but meane?

Commodus
Pythagoras, why dyd he put
mans soule within a beane?

Pertinax
What if your selfe for not wearyng
hereafter may be wrounge?

Commodus
Tushe man I made them longe ago,
a verey Aesops tongue

Pertinax.
Synce you against these churchly rites
so longe and sore dyd wynche,
Howe coulde you nowe resume agayne
so bucksome at a pynche?

Commodus
I sayde (as ofte I vse to say)
that I was very poore,
Nathlesse woulde geue tone halfe I had
that I myght weare no more.

Pertinax.
I go to healpe a papist nowe,
that ginnes for to recant,
And I go nowe, for to moleste
a silly protestant.

Commodus
O noble force of flattery,
Farewell olde fellowe myne,
But so farewell that you kepe close
and come to me do dyne.

Translatour.
Farewell a payre of hellyshe impes
of cankred Sathans race:
For you are enmies vnto God,
And his in euery place.
The true precise, none doo despise,
but all men knowe it well,
That they in learnynge and good lyfe,
moste commonly excell.
Not one of vs, but wylls them well
to keepe their godly name.
Nor euer thought to preiudice,
or to eclips the same.
Some be so wyse by Papistes guile,
they can not be abusde:
Yet Commodus hath fonded some,
it can not be excusde.
If I shoulde wryte of Commodus,
the craftes of suche lyke men,
The tricklynge teares for hearty griefe
woulde ouerlode my pen.
But none wyll looke to Commodus,
he beares the bell awaye,
Some guerdon due for his deserte,
The Lorde wyl sende one day.
The worlde is blearde with duskyng shoes,
and daselde with a glose:
But I appeale vnto the wyse,
and craue redresse of those.
Come what can come, howe muche can come,
I am at staye in mynde:
Theyr net of zeale, wherwith they steale,
for euer to vnwynde
Since God and our liege Soueraigne
bulwarkes to Truthe doo stande:
We feare not Commodus his crafte,
nor Pertinax his hande.

The sixte Satire [of Horace].

Not due discent from haughtie house,
nor thyne Hetrurie lande,
(Myne owne good Lord) doth cause thy name
and honour styll to stande.
Not fathers syre not mothers syre
two cheuetant sin the fielde:
(About whose banners suche a route
of lustye bloods bare shielde.)
Induce thee to be insolent.
(as moste of gentrie be)
To make a mocke of meaner men,
for thou acceptest me.
Whose father was infranchised,
and sayste, if dothe not skyll
Of petigree, so that oure owne
demeanour be not yll.
Of this full well thou arte resolude

Tullus a soppressor of vertue.

before kyng Tullie gan
So tyrannous a monarchie
imbecelyng freedome, than
By vertues spray, the basest borne
myght be the noblest man.

Leuynus a great gentleman hated of the people for his naughtynes notvvithstandinge the great admyratiō they haue to gentry.

Leuinus, he whose ancestours
kyng Tarquine droue away:
Through lyfe corrupt, and rainlesse youth
dyd worke his fames decay.
Neglected of the commoners,
who onely doo admyre
Nobilitie, and none but them
to honors would aspyre.
If it be so that lawlesse prankes
Yea nobles, discommendeth:
Who will prayse vs of baser blood
except our lyfe amendeth?
For what if Leuyn were estemde

Decius base borne.

and Decie were not so?
Leuyn a lowte and Decie stoute,
Yet Leuins kyndred tho,
Myght be induction to the rude,
to deeme of hym so well.
If that the counsayles President,

Appius.

perchaunce should me expell,
From Senate house, for vulgar stocke,
This colour woulde he make,
That base must byde in baser, roume
for ciuile profites sake.
But glitterynge glorie rauisheth
the poore and princely state:
And pleasurs not a iote at lengthe:
lette Tullie spell his fate
He myght haue past hys tyme in peace
declinyng lordly lyfe,
His royall robes rasde rancour vp,
and rancoure termelesse stryfe.
Suche is the worlde, who beares the swey
assuredly is scande,
Howe he came vp what parentage,
what was his fathers lande.
For as the yonger that would seme
moste hansome and moste braue,
Dothe make the mo to marke the more
if he suche features haue:
So who so thinks to rule in realmes,
and aufull swey to beare,
To place, displace, to dubbe, disdubbe,
to kepe the costes in feare:
The riflyng of his petigree,
muste thynke erewhyle to heare.
Durste thou (say they) a beggers brat,
in suche outtakyng rage
Take on thee thus to heade the peare,
to hang, and drawe the page?
Nouie woulde be a counsayler,

Nouie a petisobber Paulus & Massala.

in lawe I passe hym farre.
Though not lyke some of fyled tongue
to parle a case at barre,
But, he can sett a face of it,
with his forpenned tayle,
In solemne syghtes he thunders so,
that fauters neuer fayle.
Lette me speake well, speake what I can,
They laugh me styll to scorne:
He is to base to rule (saye they,)
in deede to basely borne.
Nowe grudge they me, because I am
becomde your houshold guest:
Before, because in warre and fielde
my rule was nexte the beste.
Thyngs muche vnlyke for be it so,
that honours enuyde be,
As fortunes gyftes, yet maye I well
be suppliant to the:
Whiche art by choyce of ponderyng witte,
of frendes prouided (lo)
Not roumerakers, nor rente rackers,
nor staynde with vices mo.
I dare not saye that fortune coulde
haue wrought me suche a blisse,
Not loreles chaunce, but Virgils lore,
dyd helpe me vp to this.
First Virgils voyce, then Varies prayse
your presence dyd procure:
At myne income, I lowted lowe,
And muttred full demure,
For bashefull shame dyd styll my voice,
and muche abridge my talke:
Therfore in blasing of my bloode,
my tongue it dothe not walke.
Nor how that I doo mount on mule,
in countrey gawyshe games:
I platly power out my mynde,
thou answere also frames
In briefe and fewe, suche is thy wont.
and after certayne dayes,
Thou calls me home, and calls mee frende,
and thus my griefe alayes.
A ioy to haue Mæcene my frende,
who good from bad doth parte,
Not by dissente, but lyfe wel led,
and ballaste breast with arte.
For if with slender single sinnes
and those but very few,
My vpright nature be infecte:
(as if in cumlye hue
A warte or twayne be euidente)
it is not muche to rue.
If gayngroper or muckmunger,
I can not proued be,
Nor spente my youth in daliaunce,
the case is well with me.
And be in charitable lyfe,
with all and euery frende:
I thancke my father for this gere,
he sente me to this ende.

Flauius.

He sente me not to lawyers shop:
to learne accoumpts to caste,
To be recorder, auditor,
to know to fetche in faste:
Nor as the gentles sende their sonnes,
to chatter in a plea,
Professing law, learne lawlesse lyfe,
and sayle in riotes Sea.
But lyke the babes of noble birthe,
to Rome I was conducted,
With lordly artes that might be seeme
the beste, I was instructed.
My garments suche, retinue suche
that most men did beleue,
My gransyres goodds did stay the route,
that hangde vppon my sleue.
My maister graue, well studied,
and much vnlyke a sorte
Who dissolute at eche smale suite,
do let their youth go sporte.
For few, as tip of all good name
he taughte me shamfastnes,
That shendful shame through worde or fate
did neuer me oppresse,
Not fearing, though I wente to lawe,
on him I shoulde complaine,
Nor doe: I can him hartye thancke,
and praise him, for his paine.
Except I madde, I may be glad,
eke of my parente base,
And do mislyke such kynd of skuse
which sum vse in this case.
Pardie (say they) not our faulte is,
our parage is so meane:
Pardye, say I, my voyce and heart
doth go against that cleane.
For if that nature woulde and coulde
reclayme my dulcet dayes,
And bid me picke my parents out,
mongst those, that beares the swayes,
Sum would no doubte did me take one,
that liftes the loftye mace,
And praunceth in the purple throne:
contented with my place
I woulde not chaunge: the moste of men,
wil thincke me straughte of witte,
But you, can wey the waightie state,
and iudge a ryghte of it.
For as auctoritie is greate,
so substaunce must be greate,
My viaundes greate, my charges greate,
my frendes I muste intreate,
Som, one, or other, must I haue
where so that I be gone,
To towne or countrye farre or neare,
a shame to be alone.
My meny muche, my traine of men,
my geldings fatte and fayre,
My waggons, coches, horselitters,
for coste I muste not spare.
In cytie, I must set vppon
me golde bespangled mule,
In deeper way, a trounsinge steede,
whome vneth ought can rule.
Els sum will checke me for my thryfte,
Lorde Tullus so woulde thriue,
Who Pretor would ride through the streetes,
his trayne no more but fyue.
Fyue peltinge laddes, (good senator)
at least must wayte on the,
And I may rome my mastershipp,
wheresoeuer lyketh me.
My selfe alone can chepen things,
and make my market well,
At euen, and morne, in fayre, or marte
from thence to where I dwell:
To suche pore cates, as I well lyke,
my supper reddie set,
A pott of drinke, a glasse of oyle,
my housholde stuffe not greate.
From that to bed, not crampte with care,
of that whiche may betyde,
Nor bente to go a pilgremage,
for my greate stryfe or pryde.
I ryse at ease, walke forth at ease,
and then a caste at booke,
All secretly, (a ioy of ioyes
at it to syt and loke)
For weryed with my bookishe gase,
I noynte with supple oyle,
My loytrous limmes and when sir Phebe
with brande beginnes to broyle:
I washe my corps in cooly shade,
my dyat smale and thin,
Of pretie pittaunce, not so muche
as stomacke woulde let in.
I calculate the coursinge starres,
how eche doth run, and rayne,
When noysom dogge doth flame in rage,
I cum not at the bayne,
But sytt at home: this is the lyfe,
so iollye, and so free,
That cherisheth and cheareth vp,
and so recumforts me.
As though my father, grandfather,
and vncle erste had bene,
Lordes treasurers, and lefte me knighte,
and ryche in chyldhood grene.

The seuenth satire [of Horace].

The fellone tongue of Rupilie,
that traytor mungrill kyng,
How Persius hath dreste in kynde,
it is no nouell thyng.
As common as the carts way that.
This Persie for the moste,
Did make his bode at Ginnia:
with Rupilie at hoste
With gybes, and glickes, and taunting strife
a brawler sharpe and sore
Rashe, arrogante, and by vse had
of ribaldrye suche store:
That from a dosen cacklinge drabbes,
the bell he mighte haue bore.
Well, to the kynge lyke dogge, and catte,
these two did then agree,
Lyke champions fell, their toylesum tongues
they vsde as weapons free.
For eche man seekes to noy his foe,
(the olde fayde saw doth tell,)
With prowes, and those martiall feats,
wherein he doth excell.
Twixte Priams hautie Hector, and
corragiouse Achill,
So keene and mortall was their wrathe,
that he did Hector kyll.
And for no other cause I trow,
but that, in those same twayne,
Lyke force in principallitie,
and parfytnesse did raine.
Dasterds will quickly parte them selues,
vnequall if they be,
(As Glaucus was to Diomede)
the weaker shrinketh, he
Departs in peace as recreante,
his ransom maks him free.
Lorde Brutus was lyeutenaunte, then
of Asia the lesse,
When Rupilie, and Persius,
to combat do addresse,
Lyke as two masters of the fence,
vnshethe their blades of mighte,
So these same two, tongue puisaunte knyghts,
with scoulding ginn the fyghte.
The auditorye numberouse,
the Persie onset gaue,
The people laugh, he praiseth Brute,
and his retenue braue.
Duke Brute, the sonne of Asia,
his men he cals the starres,
Balde Rupilie he rattles vp,
to combat if he darres.
He calde him hurtefull hatefull dogge,
to earthe, a greeuouse signe,

Flovvte

Lyke pleasaunte streame beset with woode,
so flowes his talke diuine.
Then Rupile let issue out,
his well ycouched wordes,
Throughseasonde, as the drubled lakes,
that keepeth aye in fordes.
So perfyt and exacte a scoulde,
that women mighte geue place,
Whose tatling tongues, had won a wispe,
to stande before theyr face.

A railers tōg insupportable, therefore not to be aunsvvered by vvordes, but repressed by rigor of the maiestrate.

The Persie see his foe so fell,
and how he did him snape,
Thoughte impossible to resiste,
ne wiste he how to scape.
Lorde Brute (quod he) my liege lord Brute,
for all the gods aboue,
Thou that arte wonte to hasserd all,
to win thy countryes loue,
To wringe the maces forth their handes,
to daunte the dukes a downe,
Be wrekde, be wrekde (thy onely prayse)
vpon this doggishe clowne.

The eight Satyre [of Horace]

I was sumtimes a very blocke,
the bodye of a tree,
The wryght vncertaine what to make
a stoole, or God of me,
His pleasure was to make me God,
mine office is to fray
Both birdes & theues, that wold cum filtche
our fruite from hence awaye.
As images (most commonly)
the woorkemen vse to make,
To purchase ease, or wealthe to men,
and for their lucre sake.
This orcharde was a sepulchre
indeede, a publique graue,
For Nomentane and Pantolabe
and euerye rascall slaue.
The plat of ground, was brode and square,
and of a mightie lengthe,
Sum tombes there were righte beautifull,
and of a during strengthe.
This place that was a dampishe soyle,
and whyte, with dead mens bones,
Is now a pleasaunte paradise,
to walke in for the nones.
The veluet grasse, the holsom herbes,
the trees in motley lyuerie,
Both arte and nature haue bestowde,
abundantlye their tapestrye.
I am molested very muche
with fowles, and cleekynge theues.
Yet moste these charmynge sorcerers,
vndoubtedly me greues:
Who doe with poyson, and with spells,
bereue men of their witts:
I can not stay these mother mabbes,
but they will charme by fyttes.
When as the moone beginnes to shew
her younge and cumlye face,
They cum to gather deade mens bones,
and hurtefull herbes a pace.

Canadie a vvitche.

I saw my selfe olde Canadie,
about twelue of the clocke,
Bare foote, hyr lockes about her heade,
Ytuckde in pukishe frocke.
She howled with on other hagge,
a coolor sallow man
Made them to looke, lyke gastefull goosts,
(good for to curse and ban)
These two with teeth did rente in twaine
a lambe of blackishe hue,
The blood resorted to an hole,
purple, and smoking new.
Thence did they cyte the damned soules,
from Plutos pallace large:
The soules, that al things should expounde,
as it was geuen in charge.
Stode statues two, the greate of wull,
of wax was made the lesse,
The greater gurnde with visage grim,
as thoughe he woulde oppresse
The lesse, which lowred lowtishlye,
dispairinge all redresse.
The one she calde of Hecatie,
Kinge Plutos chamber feare,
The other calde Tisephonie,
that hath in spite no peare,
Feindes, serpentes, furyes, hellish impes.
the moone inflamde to reade,
Thou mightes haue seene, the witches couch
behynde the tombes of deade
For beinge spyde, If that I lye,
the dawes defyle my noule,
And all the theues of Rome cum in,
and of my fruite take toule.
What shoulde I shew particulers?
by course how they did speake,
The witche and goosts how they dyd houle,
againe how they did squeake,
How they enterred in the grounde
a speakled serpentes hyde:
And hare of woolfes, and by and by
a flame there out did glyde.
And as the flame did grow in bulke,
and gan for to increase:
So did the waxen image (lo.)
by smale and smale decrease.
I markte the drabbishe sorcerers,
and harde their dismall spel.
The matter went so harde with me,
(there was no other boote)
I let a scape? Dame Cannadie
she moude her aged foote,
And trotteth on her way so harde,
that all her teethe out fall:
The other Trot lost her read hyue,
she hid her bushe with all.
There mightes thou fynde theyr coniurde hearbes,
their threades, and knackes of arte,
And for to see the beldams scarde,
haue laughed out thy parte.

The nynthe Satyre [of Horace]

Horace.
Well at this tyme, and wish to the,
all that thou canste require.
When as I see him haunte me still,
I askde him his desyre.

Str.
Why pardye syr, know you not me?
I am a greate lernde man.

Horace.
If it be so, I deme of you,
so muche the better than.
Lyues fayne, I would haue lefte him there,
and heruppon, I wente
Now swifte, now slow, and told my boy
trifles to none intente.
In faith I was through bathde in sweate,
and thoughte them in good case,
That were well in theyr chamber set,
or in sum secret place.
When he would praise the towne, or strets,
I answerd nought againe.
I see, (quod he) you would that we
were parted very faine.
But all for naught, it may not be,
Ile wayte vpon you now.
(Quod I) syr spare your coortesie,
I haue no nede of you.
I must goe se, a frende of mine,
whom you did neuer know,
Nye Cesars Orchardes, yonde Tyber
he dwelleth farre below,

Strange.
No busnes I, nedes muste I walke,
haue with you for this day,

Horace
Then (like the heuye lodened asse)
mine eares downe did I lay,

Str:
Syr if you knew my qualities,
there is no reason why,
Or Viske, or Varus should be more,
entire to you then I.

Viske, and Varus tvvo iolye Poets:

For who, for number or for grace,
dare mell with me in ryme?
Or who can daunce so footingly,
obseruing tune and time?
I can singe so melodiouslye,
that very Hermogene
Would enuy me, or if he harde
would yeld to me I wene.

Ho:
I thought to interchaunge a worde,
thy mother liueth she,
Or any of thy kynsfolke els,
that standeth nede of the?

Str:
In good time they are brought to stay,
and I remaine alone,

Horace
Dispatche thou me, so it must be:
for many yeres a gone,

Sabella a Prophetes.

Sabella (I a very childe)
did reede my drerye fate,
In folowinge forme, with tendre hande,
pressed vpon my pate.
Not poyson keene, nor enmies sworde,
this babe awaye shall draw,
Not stitche, or coughe, or knobbing gowt,
that makes the patiente slaw,
A prater shal becom his death,
therefore, let him alwayes
If he be wise, shun iangling iackes,
after his youthful dayes.
We came to Lady Vestas churche,
the fourth part of the day
Whilst language passed to and fro,
was passed cleane away.
He stode in bondes, (as he tould me)
in courte for to appere,
Or sentence els definitiue
should passe against him cleare.
If thou dost loue me frend (quod he)
to th' arches with me drawe.

Horace:
Nor can I stande vpon my feete,
nor know the cyuile Lawe.

Str:
I doubt if I shoulde leaue my cause,
or els thy frendlye companie.

Horace,
I pray the me, not yet (quod he.)
before me, by and by
He preseth on: my victor guide
I do succede a pace,
How doth your Lord Mæcenas now,
how stand you in his grace?

Str:
It is a rare and wittye parte,
in frendship long to dwell,
Horace, I tel the as a frend,
thou hast vsd fortune well,
If that thou woldste plante me in once,
(in forfitte of my heade)
Thou shouldste no doubte, haue me a frende,
woulde stande the in good steade.
Within a monethes space or twaine,
Mæcenas I woulde claw
That all the reaste mighte blow theyr nayles,
or go to shough the dawe.

Horace.
We lyue not so, as thou doste thincke,
no house, more pure then this,
Nor none, that from those mischeues vyle,
more cleane and spotles is.
His riches, or his learnyng is
no preiudice to me:
There is a place accordingly,
for eche in his degree.

Str.
A thinge thou tells vncredible.

Hor.
I tell a sothefast tale,

Str.
Thou makes me glow faine woulde I cum
to be of his counsaile.

Hor.
If that you will, you haue a grace,
his fauour for to win:
The first assaulte is very harde,
by suite thou maiste get in.

Str.
I will not fayle brybes shall corrupte
his cheefist seruing men:
Though once or twice the gates be shut
I will not cease yet then:
Ile wayte my opportunitie,
to meete him in the ways,
To leade him home, to curtsey him,
and cap him when he stayes.
There is no good for to be done,
whilste we are lyuyng here:
Excepte we lye, faune, flatter, face,
cap, kneele, ducke, crouche, smile, flere.
He pratlyng thus, a frende of mine
one Fuscus Aristie,
Met me, who knew this chatting syr
almoste as well as I.
Stocke stille we stande, he askde my whence,
or whether that I woulde:
I haylde him backe, and by the hand,
of frendship did him houlde.
Squinting his eys, he gan to nod,
to call me thence away,
And yet dissemblingly he thoughte,
to dallye and to play
My harte in choller perboylde was:
I wis my frende (quod I)
You sayd, that you a matter had
to tell me secretly.

Fuscus.
An other tyme. I muste go see
the circumcised Iues
In keeping of their Saboth day,
what holye rytes they vse.

Horace
I loue not that religion.

Fuscus
I, of infirmitie
Am scrupulouse: and therfore syr,
I pray the beare with me.
Herrafter I wilbe your man,
both when and where you will,
This day dismis me to go roume,
throughout the streets my fill.

Hor.
The churle departes and left me stille
to feele my sharpe distresse.
By chaunce there cums this fellowes foe,
who nowe had got redresse
At him by law: varlet, (quod he)
I charge the for to stay,
And pray you (Horace) geue me leaue,
my mynde to him to say.
Content (quod I) you may be bould,
to worke your will for me,
My troblesum companion
arested then I see.
Both parties cry, the croude growes greate
through great Appollos grace,
It was my lucke for to escape.
so comberouse a case.

The tenthe satire [of Horace]

Forsoth , I said, (Lucill) I said,
your verses run not rounde.
Doth any loue Lucill so wel,
to praise his iarring sound?
But he through tickling vp the towne,
with mirth hath wun a name:
And yet this doth not proue him lernde
though I should graunt the same.
So might our minstrell Laberie

Laberie delectable in minstrelsey, and yet not learned.

be coumpted learned than,
If merye mirthe, and onlye mirthe,
could make a learned man.
To make the reader laugh a pace,
is not a Poets part:
I meane not all: though therin be
a pretie pece of art.
He must be quick to make his pause,
and sentence fall in time
Els tracting long, to weryed eares,
wil make a lothsum rime.
His treatice interchaungeable:
now merye and now sad,
In Poets puffe, and now againe
in Retorique florish clad.
Sumtimes a fable trimly tould
doth worke in better force.
Then if the plaintife Poet should
besing his musies horce.
Sumtime to spare his eloquence,
and speake not what he can:
Such were the auncient interludes,
so wher they liked than.
And so farre to be imitate:
but neyther Hermogen

Demetrius:

Nor other, who would seeme to be,
so gay deuising men,
Did euer reade (I dare make good)
those lettred Poets workes,
Saue Catul, and Caluus, wheras
such paltrye baggage lurkes,
Tush, now I glaunce, and blame amis
for Lucill hath deuised
A tricksye woorke in Lattin coate,
and greakishe gardes comprised.
An auntrus act, I promise you,
O thou that knowes not much,
Cease to admire a man for that,
the matter is not suche
As it is thought, to sprincle here
and there a worde of greeke,
Sum assehead doultes in baggish style,
of greeke are not to seeke.
Excepte thou thincke that diuerse tongues
are better when they meete,
As mixed wynes, (what els?) become
more wholsome and pure swete.
Well, in thy verse vse Greeke at wil,
beware, that when at barre
Thou pleadest for thy clyent, there

Petillus:

thou goest not ouerfarre.
I meane as if some passing man
shouldst and in plea thy foe,
And sweate againe to grauaile the,

Publicula or Coruinus:

and worke thy clyent woo,
Use not thy two tongude phrases then,
like one of Canues towne,

Canues a tovvne vvhere vvas spoken both greeke and Latin:

Thou maist perchaunce become non suite,
thou and thy cause borne downe.
Once on a time, a Greek poeme
I dreamed to indite,
(A Romaine I disioynde by sea,
vnured so to write)
Lord Romulus did byd me stinte,
in pitchye silent night,
At midnight, when suche vysions
are coumted most of might.
In grekish tongue (sayeth he) to write
write vpon writinge still,
Is as to powre on fatted sowe,
more draffe drinke and more swill.
Therfore whylst Alpine shriketh out

Alhin a tragicall Poet.

the murdred Memnons baine
And Rhene descriues, I leauing Greeke
am of my Satyres fayne.
Which neyther shall in Guyldhall once,
be iudged of the Mayre:
Nor fede the eye on stately stage,
to make a meyny stare.
Fundanus may at his good lust,

Fundanus a comical Poet:

of ninctie fyncties write,
(I say) of harlots heedful guile,
of Dauus what a spite
He wrought to Chremes by his crafte,
That facultie therfore
I leaue to him as capitaine
in scoffing comike lore.
And Pollio, the princely iestes,
in loftie Iambiques maye
By vertue of that gracious verse
in tragike wise display:
So Varie makes his Elegies,
of quick, and liuely might,
And Virgill, well in rurall rime,
His gamesome Muse can dight:
A Satyre I, more sauerly,
and with more lucke attempted,
Then Varro, and a number such,
(al arrogance exempted.)
I doo not say, before my time,
But Lucille did deuise,
Nor euer ment to preiudice

Lavvtell Crovvne.

his crowne in any wise:
But now and then outtakingly,
he wil be ouerseene,
And bring such stuffe, wherof the most
omitted might haue bene.
I praye you (Lucille) saie me soothe,
nor bee you not offended,
Hath not your wisedom said or nowe,
that Homer migtt be mended?

Actins.

And hath not ioly Lucill to
the dolefull Actle chaunged?

Enius

And for to carpe him for his phrase
al ouer Ennie raunged.
Yet when he speaketh of himselfe,
He speakes not as he were
A better clarke, then those he blamde.
Why may not we inquyre
In waye of talke? if his harde style,
a matter good hath marde:
Or if the matter too vntoward,
hath made his style to harde.
If that a man thynke it enough,
and for a Poet mete,
Twixt meale and meale, two hundreth rymes,
to reare vpon their fete:
Lyke Casse, whose lauishe eloquence,

Cassus burned for his folishe bokes

was rushyng as the streames:
Therfore were burnt, his corps, his bookes,
(his hastye trauaylde dreames.)
If this be good, Lucill is good,
in suche respecte may he
Of pleasant head, and depe deuice,
and clarkly iudgement be.
He may be thought to haue enritchde
Greace, with his Satyre verse,
Muche better then an elder sorte,
whiche I coulde nowe rehearse.
Ryghte happy Lucill, that dyd see
so plausible a tyme:
If he had ben in these our dayes,
he must haue razde his ryme.
And paerd of all that was not trym,
and so haue bent his brayne,
That bothe he should haue scratchde his heade,
and bitte his thombes for payne.
For nowe, who lookes to beare the bel,
his doyngs he muste cull,

Horace,

At home with hym, and better adde,
then he dyd erste out pull.
Contented to haue pleasde the wyse,
lette go the skyllesse hobbes,
Who woulde esteme the clappynge of
a flocke of luskyshe lobbes.
(Not I in sooth): the iudgement of
one worthy personage,
In learnyng rype, in vertue iuste,
in verdite sharpe, and sage:
Geue me before a thousand lowtes,
and all theyr lowde suffrage.
Tigell he kepes a prattlynge stille,
his pages doo me pynche:
Prate what they can, the worste they can,
I mynde not once to wynche.
Suche carelesse, brainlesse, senslesse shrubbs,
suche sucklyng maultwormes who,
Doth take their words, but as of course,
and so can lette them go?

The vvise clerkes of that age.

The lorde Mæcenas and Virgill,
Plotie, and Varius,
Valgie, and our drad soueraigne
the greate Octauius,
And Pollio (I fawne not nowe,
nor flatter, thankes to pyke)
Fuscus, and eke the Viscie bothe,
I woulde they should me lyke,
Thou Messala, thy brother to,
You Bubilie also
You Seruie, and thou Furnius,
both you and suche lyke mo,
Frendly, and learnde, which now for hast
vnnamed I lett go,
Your praise I saye, fayne would I haue,
full sorie and full sad:
If I ne can fulfyll the hope,
whiche of my selfe I had.
Sir Tigell, and syr Demetrie,
Your dumpishe domes in schooles.
You may be stow ther as you liste,
emongst your flocke of fooles.
As for the wise, they winke at them,
nor wil not on them looke:
Go boy go note these sayings wel
and put them in a booke.

Q. HORA. FLACCVS HIS seconde Booke of Satyres.

The firste satyre [of Horace]

Trebare
My sonne, if that thou write to sharpe,
no doubt thou shalt not liue,
Some one or other, wil to the
Thy fatall wounde ygeue.

Horace.
Why? Lucill lyude, who euer vsde,
all fayners to detecte
With Satyres sharpe, and quippies rounde,
of death he neuer reckt.
But blamed those, which outwardly
do geue a shyning shoe,
And inwardly are chargde with sinne,
that vnnethes they can goe.
Good Lelie did not hate his witte,
not he that got renowne
For pollecie, and pruice too.
For beating Carthage downe.
I say they were not miscontent,
That lewde Metellus once,

Metellus and Lupus noble men, yet reprehended for vice: Scipio and Lelius not repyning:

And lowtishe Lupus were reformde,
with Satyres for the nonce.
He would not spare the officers,
nor priuate men to blame.
A frende to none saue honestie,
and those that vse the same.
With doughtie stoute duke Scipio,
and Lelie learnde and wise,

One point of vvisedom, not to be mery amongst a multitude:

He woulde ieste very iocondlye,
and franckly in his guise,
At meales when he sequestred was
from the vnlettred sort.
What so I am, though farre I wote
from Lucils witte and port.
Yet enuie selfe cannot denie,
but I haue ledde my life
Amongst the beste, though some men thinke
me dedicate to strife:
Me thinks my grounde is good and sure,
except you frende Trebate,
By law doo disalowe of it,
I wil pursue my state.

Trebate
Beware, beware, the warnde may lyue,
be circumspect, and slawe,
Leste you by wordes vndoo your selfe,
through ignorance of lawe.
For who that writeth slaundrously,
we lawyers must amend him:

Hor.
And who that writeth true and well,
our Cesar must defend him:
If that a man speake of a zeale,
And blame the bad alone,
Dispatche your rowles, ther is no gaine,
the Lawyer may be gone.

The second satire [of Horace]

Howe good it is, and laudable,
to liue but with a small:
It passeth me for to discriue.
Ofellus told it all.
A rudesvie, and vnruly, wyse,
and yet vnlucky man,
Who neuer could bring to an ende,
The thinge which he began.
Learne abstinence, O learne of me
not when your paunche is full,
Or when with grosse vpflynging fumes,
Your syght is masde and dull:
Or when your luste leanes to the worst,
and wyll not brooke the beste,
Come soberly, not ouerchargde,
with intrayls all at reste.
Some thing to say: the wastefull wombe,
dothe plague and kill the brayne:
As that iudge dothe his countrey hurt,
who gapeth after gayne.
When thou doste trace the hastyng hare,
or tame the Iennet wylde,
Or fight in fielde, lyke Romayn stoute,
(vnlyke a Grekyshe chyld,)
Or when thou doest at footebal playe,
or tennice for pastyme:
Whylste loue of game doth ease thy toyle,
and helpe awaye the tyme:
Or when thou slyngest in the ayre:
with might auoyde the stone:
What so thou doste, do earnestly,
and when thy toyle is gone,
Thou shalt haue stomake quick and sharpe,
that when thou comes to dyne,
It will not loke for sweete conceites,
or fragrant friskyng wyne,
If that the rude and vgly sea,
do lette the fyshers arte,
If foode doo fayle, of breade and salte,
to take and eate thy parte
Thou wilt be glad. Why is it thus?
Howe soundeth this wyth reason?
The smell of hoate and smokyng roast,
though it be deare and geason,
Doth not delyte of it owne selfe:
thou makes the culleis good.
Thy sweate and pyne makes sweete and fyne,
and sauours all thy food.
What taste is there, yf thou beiste gordgde?
ne can it well endue,
In Lampre, or in Leueret,
or choppyn oysters newe.
Nathelesse, I can not thee perswade,
but yf they both be dreste,
The Pecocke, and the pubble hen,
the Pecocke tasteth best.
Begyled wyth apparances:
because her costly sayle
Is rare: and that a circled pryde
she beareth in her tayle.
As though that were materiall:
her feathers dost thou eate
So gaye to thee? or is she ells,
in brothe the better meate?
The fleshe of bothe is muche alike:
thou loues the pecocke tho,
Because of gallant gawyshe plumes:
well, lette it then be so.

Tuscus, a strete in Rome, nere to a creke of the sea,

The dogge fyshe, that from Tyber cums,
or streame in Tuscus streete,
Why is it worse, then that, from sea,
where wrastlynge waues doo meete?
O doting worlde, aboue the rest,
they loue the Mullet greate,
And yet doo mynce her smale and smale
before they doo her eate.
Thus may we see, the sight is all:
If sight may things excell,
Great Porposes should be in price:
na, sothly I can tell
Why they be not: this Porpose fyshe,
with vs is euery where:
A Mullet for the mincing dames,
for that is rare and dere.

Farre sought, and deare bought good for Ladyes:

The temperate will litle eate
and fede of simple chere.
Some gluttons would eate greater fishe,
to satisfye their mawes,
(Like hellishe Harpies) from a panne,
with gredie gnawing iawes.
But you, you wastfull southerne windes
corrupt their viandes all:
It endes not much: for Bore or Brytte
dost tast to them as galle.
When to much hauocke hath them cloyde,
then gyn they sore to longe
For Rapes and Helicampane roote,
and do the beggers wrong.
So kinges (to haue their courses iust)
Reiect not pore mens cates,
As egges and oyle, with such the lyke
receaude and vsde of states.
The Heraulde Gallo for a dishe
He vsde vpon a day,

The dishe was a fishe cavvled Accipēser a vvhile vsuall yea and noble, aftervvard contemptible:

Was ill rebukde. But they to blame:
for Brtttes fewe durst assay
The Brit did scope abrode in seas,
The Storke did kepe her nest,
Before paunche pampring Pretorie
told how they should be drest.
If some the rosted Cormoraunt,

Pretorie a frend to the kychin,

delytefull would report,
Oure youthe (soone taughe to naughtynesse)
would trye it for a sporte.
The couetous and sparinge man
we must not note for one,
(As Ofell sayth) if thou percase
from one sinne wouldste be gone,
And therby happe into a worse,
that were a bootlesse case.
Canis, in whome for his desert,

Canis a couetouse miser, Oulde olyues

that name may well take place,
Olde Oliues, add the dogtree fruicte,
and lees of chaunged wine,
And vyle vnpleasaunt greasye oyle,
to lothesome for a swine.
(If he did feaste his frende at home,
or kepe his natiue day,
Or solemnise the time by chaunce,

One good note of a churl to be liberal of that vvhich is naught: Demaunde:

in surely rych arraye)
Abundance of such corrup stuffe,
Mongst his, he would outlaye.
What dyet shall the wise man then,
twixt two contraries vse?
Shal he the trade of couetouse,
or prodigall refuse?
Unspotted he, that kepes him fre,
and leanes to neither syde.

Replye:

He shall not be like Albutye,
who, when he doth deuide,

Albutye

His houshold charge emongst his men
himselfe will nothing doo:

Neuye:

Nor yet like Neuie wayte at boorde,
for that is foolishe too.
Now lysten well, how great the fruictes,
of sparing diete be,
First good for healthe, for this thou muste
perswade thy selfe with me:
That many things annoyeth man,
And meates do muche offende,
Though they be pleasant, yea and good
yet, when thou doste them blende,
As fyshe with fowle, roste meates, with boylde,
to choler goes the sweete:
The moyst to fleume, for stomacke fleume
a guest is moste vnmete.
Agayne the corps chargde with excesse,
dothe ouercharge the mynde,
Abandonnyng to earthly things,
the soule of heauenly kynde.
The temperate may soone dispose
his members to their reste,
And ryse agayne delyuerly,
to labour quicke and preste.
He shall be in the better plyte,
In tyme that happen may,
As when the yeare by compaste course,
shall bryng the pagiaunt day.
Or if he take confortatiues
to helpe hym at his neede:

VVorthy frutes of temperance.

For yeares wyll come, and crasye age,
who daintily must feede.
In age or sycknesse, what shall be,
delityng vnto thee?
Who haste preuented in thy youth
suche pleasure as myght bee?
The rammyshe Bore, they wont to prayse,
not that they had no nose
To feele hym smell, but to this ende,
that he whiche dyd repose
Hym selfe with them, might egerly
fall to, and eate his meate:
Because they woulde not gluttonlyke,
theyr whole prouision eate
In those dayes, I woulde haue ben borne,
in suche an honeste tyme:
I loue well hospitalitie,
If riot cause not crime.
If thou dost stande in awe of verse,
or force a rymers reede:
Take heede, such sortes, and subtilties
of cates wyll make thee neede.
Bothe shame and harme they wyll procure,
agayne, adde to this same,
Thy kynsmen wroth, thy frends made foes
thy selfe foe to thy name.
Wyshyng for death, and shalt not dye,
but lyue to wayle and mone
Thy wanton wealth, thy beggers plight
thy treasures that be gone.

Trasie

(Saythe tauntyng Trasy) maye not I
lay out my coyne at wyll?
My rentes come to me thicke and thicke,
my want is foyson still,
Not three kynges can dispende with me,
who sayth, I may not spende?

Poet.

Therfore, the surplus of thy goodes
applye to better ende.
Why wante the silly needie soules
refreshyng at thy hande?
Why doo the temples of the gods,
without repayryng stande?
Thou corsye carle, thy countrey dere,
from hougie substance suche
Shall she haue naught: wylt onely thou
deuoure alone so muche?
O ieste, vnto thy very foes,
For, whether may haue more,
(If fortune frowne, and grefes growe on)
esperance to his store?
Thou: which was maried to thy mucke,
and freshe in gay attyre,
Or he: that dreading chaunce to cum,
a litle doth desyre,
And keepes it well, and warylye
to helpe in hopelesse tyde:
Lyke as the wyse in golden peace
for stormye warre prouide.
For more beleefe in this behalfe,
I then a little boy
Can now reporte, that Ofellus,
put not so greate a ioy,
Nor pleasured so in his cheefe wealthe,

Ofels talke in prosperitie

as in his worste decay.
This was a common talke of his
when he bare greateste sway.
Alls one to me: on woorkyday
I neuer coulde be taken
With better meate, in feelde or towne,
then roots or chimnye bacon.
I and my sonnes keepe thus in feilde,
our cattell seelde forsaken.
But if some old acquaintaunce cum,

Horace, A more honest kynde of liberalitie.

who hath bene longe away,
Or sum good honest neyghboure els
through sletie drisling day
Do cease from woorke, we mery make
not with suche costlye fyshe,
But with a chicken, or a kyd,
and grapes our seconde dishe,
A nutte, or els sum kynde of figge:
the table tayne awaye
We drincke about, and afterwarde
for Ceres giftes we pray,
So flye awaye the freating cares,
that bringe the wimpled age.
Let furiouse fortune frowne and fume,
and roste hyr selfe in rage,

Vmbrenus a souldier vvho had the groūd geuen him by Augustus.

She can not much empayre our cates:
my seruauntes haue not founde
Their cheare muche woorse sence Vmbrenus
hath gotte away our grounde.
It matters not, for nature gaue
not me this proper lande
At firste, nor him, nor any els,
he chaste vs forth with hande,
His beastelynes will chase him out,
or sum expulsiue lawe,
Or els his heire that shall suruiue,
when he muste couche full lawe
Now Vmbrens grounde, of late Ofells
(a thing not very stable)
Now myne, now thine, so muste we take,
the worlde as variable.
Let nothing cause your courage quayle,
in care be constante stille,
And bende your brestes to beare the blowes
of fortune that be ille.

The thirde Satyre [of Horace]

Damasip.
You write so seldom vnto me,
that fowre times in a yeare
Scarse cums a pen within your hands,
perusinge written geare.
Halfe angrie with your selfe I weane,
that drente in wine and slepe,
You spending time in sylent pause,
of Satyres beres no keepe.
Performe thy promis once at lengthe,
goe to, what shall we haue?
Thou coms from Saturnes feast I trowe
from drinke thy selfe to saue.
Wil nothing be? You blame your muse,
so do your Poets all
Accuse your pen, when to your minde,
your sentence will not fall.
When thou camst to the countrye towne,
to liue a part from strife,
Thy visage gaue, as thoughe thou wouldste
haue written bookes or life.
Menander and dan Platos woorkes,
why do they on you wayte?
Why brought you Eupolis to towne,
and Archilog his mate?
You meane for feare of spitefull folke,
all vertue to disclame,
Thou caytife shalt com to contempt,
shun idle ioyes for shame:
Or els surrender all such praise,
as thou hast got before:
By worke of witte, in full intent

The Poet content to be reproued but not at suche a peuishe Marchaunt as This stoike damasip.

to mell with it no more,
For this sage counsaile, (Damasip)
the heauenly goddes I pray,
To send a barber speedely,
to wype your berde awaye.

Horace
In dede, and know you me so well
how coms it so to passe?

Damasip,
I sufferd shipwracke of my goodes,
whilst I a merchaunt was.
And therfore now can spare an eye.
the worlde to ouervewe.
Then was I plunged in affaires,
as they me droue and drew,
To know what vantage by exchang,
to clippe, and washe my goulde.
By subtilties in mineralles,
my state for to vphoulde.
By such lyke sorte came I to haue
an ample wealthie share,
To purchasse orchards for mine ease
and bowers bright and fayre.
My witte so deepe soe sore to deale,
such lucke to win, or saue,
That me a Mercurialiste,
to surname then they gaue,

Horace
I know it well and maruaile muche,
If that be ridde and gone:
Except thou hast sum worse diseas
whiche needes wyl raine alone.
As Phisikes cure from head to brest,
diseases can conuey,
As by excesse of much madnes,
dryue lythargie away.
Perchance you setting fraude a part,
the mad mans part wil play.

Dama,
Frend Horace, you are mad likewise,
And so is euery foole,
If stoicke Stertein taught vs once,
true doctrine in his schoole.
Of whome, I learnde this trade of lyfe,
no trewande in my lore,
He dubde me then a stoick Stage,
and bad me morne no more.
Though al the worlde shoulde go to wracke,
(for from a brydge I ment
All headlonge to haue horlde my selfe
so things againste me wente.)

Staberie
What though I did (inisiudge menes
I had a wittye meaning.

Stoicke:
No doubte you had, to this intent
was all his gilefull gleaning.
To haue his heyres engraiue in stones
his honnorable will:
Neade was to him a wickednes,
yea an vngodly ill.
Therfore in dede full dredefully.
he wayed it as goddes curse:
If at his death, then in his life,
one dodkin he were worse.
For all and euery thinge (quod he)
vertue, renoumne, and fame,
The corpes, the goste, dothe crouch to coyne
and serue vnto the same.
Which who so hath all at his lust,
him nedes no further thinge
He maye bee famouse, stoute, and iuste,
a wiseman and a king.
And this is euen as good as if
by vertue he vp grue:
But Staberie or Aristippe,
of lykely, iudge not true.

Aristippe a Philosopher that flattered Alexander.

Who trauayling in Lybie coste
his golde did caste away,
Bycause it did from iorneyinge,
his men a litle stay.
Which is the madder of the twaine?
but we ne can, ne will
Sample, againste example bringe,
to samples that be ill.
If that a man bye instruments,
and horde them in a place,
Him selfe not weyinge of the sounde,
nor forcinge musikes grace:
If that a man shoulde bye him stuffe
and tooles to sett vp shop:
Or bye hym sayles to hange in ship
to hale her by the top:
And neuer meane to practise oughte,
is he not starynge mad?
Why is not this our couetouse
as much in frensye clad?
Who hoordes his money, and his gould,
and vnneth dare auouche it,
Because it is so preciose,
to peepe at it, or touche it.
If that a man an hudge heape greate
of corne shoulde euer keepe,
With stretched arme, and club in hande,
for feare berefte of sleepe,
And bringe owner durste not take,
one graine, (misdreadyng waste),
Eatinge most bitter rootes, and leaues,
vnmilde vnto the taste:
If one haue manie vessels full,
a thousande tun of wyne,
And drincke nothing but vinaiger,
vntastie, and vnfyne:
Goe to, if one of fyue score yeares
do lye on couche of grounde,
And haue his downe, and fetherbeddes,
(where he mighte sleepe full sounde)
Stufte vp in chestes, for wormes and mothes:
sum will not houlde them mad,
Because the moste of wealthie men,
be now as vyle, and bad.
O hatefull head, forlorne to God,
spares thou for tyme to cum?
Na, na, thou spares that thy lewde childe
may spende the totall sum.
Eche day will spende sum portion,
(thou thinckes) if thou do spende
Oyle to annointe, oyle for thy borde,
amongste thy meates to blende.
Further, thou sayste, it is the beste,
to lyue vppon a smal.
Why doste thou then forsweare thy selfe,

Testie anger a kynde of madnes.

and filtche in places all?
Haste thou the wittes, that beates thy men,
because nothinge can please the?
Which thou with purse, haste purcheste deare,
to ayde the and to ease the.
When thou doste poyson thy parentes,
and strangle vp thy wyfe,
Arte thou not mad, though in Arge towne,
thou droue not out her lyfe,
Nor yet with sworde as Oreste did,

A man is mad at the first cōceyt of mischiefe.

or do not it inacte?
Yes yf for hope of gaine thou hast,
but thoughte vppon thy facte,
Was he not mad before his blade
had brusde his mothers baine?
Or forthwith, as this cruell fitte,
Was crepte into his braine?
Sence that Orestes hath bene clepte
giddie, and madde by name
After the cryme, he hath not done
a facte of haynouse blame,
His syster deare, nor Pylides,
he neuer stroke with sworde,
To him, and her sumtimes he gaue
a foule vntowarde worde.
Her feinde him woorse, as him to speake,
his pearsinge choler woulde:
But thou in harte kilste all thy frendes,
that thou mightes haue their goulde.
The penyfather Opimie,

Opimie.

who had so muche in store
Who holyday and workyngday,
did toyle whilste he were sore,
Was troubled so with lythergie,
for sleepe he coulde not stere,
His heyre wente rounde aboute the chestes,
with blythe and iocaunte cheare:
A frendlye quicke Phisition,
to make, Opymie starte,
Contriude it thus: he bad them bringe,
a borde into the place,
A sorte eeke to vnseale the bagges,
and tell the coyne a pace.
He rearde the sickman from his bed,
Syr (quod he) houlde it faste
Or els no doubte, those will haue all,
and sparple all at laste.

Opimie.
In my life tyme?

Phi.
awake betime,
be lyuely then in deede

Opimie.
What shall I doe?

Ph.
fall to thy meate,
there is no way but feede.
Els, will thy spirits be forfaynte,
thy vigour fall away,
Thy stomake weake and languishinge,
will bringe the to decay.

Op.
You geue me naughte.

Ph
drincke vp forth withe
this Ptysande made of ryce.

Op.
What shall I paye?

Ph
a small

Op.
how much.

Ph.
Two pence.

Op.
alacke, the pryce.
Such costes is woorse, then sworde or theefe,
cum death I will not ryse.

Damasip.
Now who is made?

Sto.
Eche foolish man,
what is the couetouse?

Dum.
A foole and mad.

Dam.
what if a man
be nothinge rauenouse,
Eftsones shall he be coumpted sounde?

St.
no:

Dam
Stoicke tell me why?

Sto.
Put case the restlesse paciente
full ill at ease shoulde lye,
His pulse doth shew, he hath no stitche,
nor straininge at his harte:
Is that ynough to warraunte hym,
forth of his coutche to starte?
Sharpe pāges may twitch him in the raynes,
and twitche him in the syde:
So, though one be not couetouse,
yet may he swell with pryde.
They neade no salue, to say a sooth.
that vse not for to lye,
Nathelesse the testie may take pilles,
to purge melancolye.
Almost as ill to hoorde thy goodes,
that they geue no releefe,
As if thou shouldste bestow them on,
an arraunte pilferinge theefe.
Olde Oppidie two manors kepte

Oppidie.

of longe in Canuse towne
Entailde to him by due discente
who sicke, and lyinge downe,
On deade bed, then calde for his sonnes,
(which were no more but twaine)
And thus to speake vnto them both,
the parente woulde him paine.
Aulus, my sonne, when thou in youth,

A pretie note for parents.

counters in purse didste beare,
And francklie on thy playfeers wouldste,
bestow them here and theare,
Tyber my sonne when thou thy nuttes
wouldste tell and tell againe,
By this I gatherd, that in you,
two diuers sinnes woulde raine:
That Aulus would be ryotouse,
that Tyber naught would spende,
Wherfore, for gods owne loue deare sonne
vnto my lore attende.
Aulus, looke thou diminishe not,
nor Tyber thou increase,
That, which your father thoughte ynoughe
to mantayne you in peace.
And, that whiche nature lymiteth:
Leste, ticklinge glorie may
Incense your heartes, take here an othe,
before I passe away:
That which of you shall sewe in Rome,
for roume, or for degree
Shall take hym selfe as most deteste,
and quyte accurste of me.
Alas, Aulus (mine elder childe)
to geue the giftes of pryce,
To deale amongste the Citizens,
that they gainste the may ryse
That thou maiste walke in pompe, & porte,

Lyke Agrippe.

thy statutes stande in brasse,
What vayleth that? when all is gone
what vayleth that (alas.)
Excepte to win a princes fame,

Esope his foxe.

and plausible estate,
Lyke foxe: thou weare a lyons skin
to seeme a lyons mate.
What though thou warte a prince in deede?

Insolence noted in prīces in Agamemnons personage. Tucer.

in pride thou mighte offende,
As Agamemnon, in whose wordes
most princes wordes are pende.
Syr kynge, why maye not Aiax be
enterred in his graue?

Agamemnō,
I am a kinge, my lusts a lawe,
your answer (lo) you haue.

Tucer.
Moste puissaunt prince, my suite is iuste,
if anie can say nay,
Without all stop, or ieoperdie,
his sentence let him say.
God graunte your noble maiestie,
to see your natyue soyle.
Leege prynce, take pause a space, and then,
my pore demaunde assoyle.

Agam.
Demaunde at once?

Tew:
shall duke Aiax
the nexte to fearse Achill:
Who famouse was, by sauing greakes,
vntombed tarrye still?
That Priame, and his folke may ioy,
to see him lacke his graue:
By whom their Troiane younkers slayne,
no countrie toumbe coulde haue?

Agamem.
A thousande sheepe he slewe in rage,
the famouse Vlixes,
Menelaus and me with sworde
he thoughte he did disease.

Tucer.
When thou in Auled for a cowe,
didste slay thy louing childe,
And salte her heade on alter stone,
waste thou then mad or mylde?
In what degree did Aiax rage?
what did he? slay the sheepe.
From lemans bayne, and daughters baine
his blade he coulde ykeepe.
Perchaunce he curste and bande at large
the, and thy brother to:
With me, nor Vlixes his foe,
he neuer had to doe.

Agamemnō.
The lingering shippes, that they myght sayle
from hauen where they stoode,
Of purpose good, I pacifyed
the wrothefull goddes with blood.

Tucer.
With blood of thyne, thou mad kyng, thou,

Agam.
with mine, but I not mad.

Stoicke.
Who doth confounde things good and ill
(as you) is euen as bad,
To folow shewes, and vttershapes,
to gesse but at the good
Is follie leude as is the deede,
that coms of angrie moode.
Aiax he slew the sillie lambes,
therfore, distraughte of witte:
And thou for tytles, and renoume,
fell murther doste commit.
(Hast thou thy wittes?) or arte thou good,
all swelled vp with pryde?
If in a coche, a fyne fleesde lambe,
a kynge shoulde cause to ryde,
And geue it rayments neate, and gay,
and geue it maydes and goulde,
And call it pugges and pretye peate,
and make as though he woulde,
In woorthy wedlocke it bestowe:
the Pretor woulde fordoe it,
And make his frendes looke to his witte,
for feare he shoulde forgoe it:
What if a kynge for a doumbe sheepe,
his daughter sacrifice,
I wene the kyng will graunte himselfe.
not to be verye wyse.
Fondnesse is madnesse, so is sinne,
and who that huntes for name

Bellons goddess of vvarre

Is lyke Bellona chafinge dame,
that loues to see a mayme,
Who scales fames forte ofte times doth see,

Against the riotouse, as he promised.

dyre feates, and vse the same.
But now a crashe at Nomentane
to reuellers a whyle,
No reason is this foultishe flocke
from madnes to exile.
The prodigall, by witte worde hath
ten talentes: in his heate,
He biddes the costerdmongers, and
thappothycaries neate,
Foulers, fishers, sculls, podingwrightes,
the trulls of Tuscus streate,
All cookes and all the shambles eeke,
to morow him to meate
At home. How are they occupyde
when they are mette in one?
The baude (a spokes man for the reste)
its thine (saith he) alone,
What so all those or I, possesse.
at home or any wheare,
Demaunde it (master) when you will.
now syr vnto this geare,
Harke, how our younker frames his tale,
Ah trustie frendes (saith he)
The fouler wades through frost, and snowe
that he may banquet me,
The fysher drawes the wyntrye seas,
whylste I doo sytte at ease,
In faythe good felowes, fayne woulde I,
your great turmoylyng please:
Take thou some thynge, take tenne tymes more,
take thou as muche agayne,
And thou threfolde, because with me,
your wyfe hath taken payne.
Younge Aesope, snatchde a ryng awaye,
from madame Metells eare:

Metells, a lady of Rome

The pearle well worthe fyue hundreth crownes,
He dronke in vinigeare:
He is as much besydes hym selfe
as braynlesse in this case,
As if he hadde it drent in flood
or in some vyler place.
The broode of Quinctus Arius,

Arius, a noble man of Rome,

the famous brethren twayne.
Through lewd conceites, and babysh pranks
do make theyr stomacke fayne,
And lyuely with the Lynnets fleshe,
that be of costly price.
Be these men wene you, well in wytte?
be these men madde, or wyse?
To buylde an house of chippes and cardes,
to watche the trappe for myse:
To playe at euen and odde, to ryde
rockhorse in chyldyshe guyse:
If these shoulde please a bearded syre,
the foole myght haue a hood,
Muche more, to haunte and harlots house,
dothe proue an olde man wood.
An olde man, for to spyll his teares,
to please a womans mynde,
Is as an olde man shoulde in duste,
go taue, and toyes out fynde:
I woulde haue all these naughty packes

Palamon.

to doo lyke Palamon:
As he for shame vppon a tyme,

A fondlinge knovven by his ensignes.

With drynke all ouergon.
The badges of a fondlynge, as,
braue napkyns, braceletts, rynges,
He layde away, and went to schoole,
to learne more sober thynges,
Commaunde a childe, to eate a peare.
he wyll not eate a byt:
Commaunde hym, not to eate the peare,
the chylde will long for yt.
So fares it, with oure fondlyng (lo)
though he desyres to go,
And woulde this coyishe paramour,
vnbodden wende vnto.
Ye when she daygnes to sende for hym,
then mammeryng he dothe doute,

Phedria.
What should I go, as suppliant?
or beare my sorowes stoute?
She shutte me out, she sendes for me,
shoulde I come there agayne?
No, though she should vpon her knees,
Praye me, to take the payne.

Stoike:
Me thynkes the seruaunt Parmeno.
hath muche the better brayne.

Parmeno.
The thynge mayster, that hathe in it
no measure, nor aduice,
By reason, can not well be rulde:
Loue hath in it muche vyce.
Theres stormy warre, and caulmie peace,
whiche (passyng as a blaste,
And flotynge on, in blynde successe)
Who seeketh to make feaste,
Shall take in hande, an harde attempte,
miraculous, and geason:
As yf be woulde at once be madde,
and haue his perfite reason.

Stoike,
A man that faultreth in hys speache,
for age, and yet is gladde,
To playe at quoytes, or spancounter,
may well be counted madde:
A man, that faultreth in his speache,
and wyll by sworde and myght,
Obteyne his loue, or murther her
in cruell bloody plyght:
As Marius slewe Hilade,
and slewe hymselfe also,

Marius a knovven Romane: esptised vvithe the loue of Hilade. Oulde dotage mere madnesse. Supersticion proued madnes.

Because she sought by godly meanes,
his dotage to vndo.
This perturbation maye be calde,
a wodnesse of the mynde:
Suche wyckedne, and madnes haue
no dyuers names by kynde.
An olde man late enfraunchised,
in dawnynge of the day,
With hāds fair washe, wold walke the stretes
and most deuoutlye praye.
The more deale was to this effecte:
O Godds aboue, (for you
Can doo the thyng) lette me a ye lyue
in earthe where I am nowe:
This man was sounde enoughe in corps,
in mynde I thynke hym madde,
Except his maister lyke not that,
who soulde hym of a ladde.

In ould time, if any sould a seruaunte, vvho aftervvard proued mad, it turned to the sellers endamage.

Suche folke, so supersticious,
Chrysip doothe greatly charge,
And pleades by ryght, that they should sayle
in madame Madnesse barge.
O Ioue, whiche bothe canst eke and ease,
all dolour and all teene,
Rue on my chylde (the mother crieth)
who nowe fiue weekes hathe bene,
With feuer quartayne, felly toste,
of thou wilte heale my sonne,

Voues frō the panyms.

Byd me to faste, what day thou wylt,
thy great will shall be doune:
My sonne lykewyse recouerde donne,
in Tyber flood shall stande,
If thou wylt send hym helpe by chaunce,
or by phisitions hande,
And so she will (to kepe her vowe)
her chyld in Tyber sette:
The boye through chille benummednesse,
his ague worse shall gette.
This woman maddeth of her selfe,
or by the will of God.

Damasip.
Thus Stertin theyght wyse man of Grece,
taught me, and gaue a nod
As to his frende, at knittynge vp:
this armour he me gaue:
If any man be busye nowe,
his guardon he shall haue.
Who so that calls me wood or madde,
maye learne his propre lacke,
And knowe the ferdle of his faultes,
that hange behynde his backe.

Stoike:
Frende Damasip, though you haue loste
your trafficke and your ware:
Yet may you gayne, for some will geue
that you theyr faultes maye spare.

Damasip.
Because thers many kyndes of madde,
in what sorte doo I dote?
Yet to my selfe I seme not madde,
nor from my witte a iote.

Stoike,
No more semed Agaue to her selfe,
when she of dolefull chylde,
The head detruncte, dyd beare about,
she thought her selfe full mylde.

Samacip.
If soothe it be, that I am madde,
yet Stoicke tell me this,
What vice is it, through whiche I seeme
so muche to doo amys?

Stoicke.
Thou arte a very little man,
scarce three small cubites hye,
And yet thou buyldes a hautie house,
and makes it threate the skye.
Thou laughste at Turbo sworde player,
a little dandie prat,
To see hym stoute: thou lesse, and stoute:
I deeme thee madde for that.
Thynks thou, to buyld lyke lorde Mæcene,
to doo, what he shall doo?
A matche vnmete betwixte you twayne,
and yll appoynted too.
The mother frogge vppon a tyme
abrode to feede, or playe,
A Calfe kylde all her young with foote,
but one, that scapde awaye:
Which brought the tydynges to her damme,
howe suche a myghtie beaste,
Had slayne her noble progenie,
(to tell a blouddie feast.)
Canste thou with swellyng make thy selfe,
(quod tholde) as bygge as he?
The yong assayde, it woulde not proue

The text applieth the svvelling rather to the olde frogge, but it skillech not so presumption be eschued in old and yoūg

(quod tholde) so lette it be.
Nowe moralise this fable, and
iwys it toucheth thee,
That styll wyll swell, and make thy matche
aboue thyne owne degree.
Besydes, thy pratlynge Poemes to,
be matter playne and clere,
To proue thee madde, in poemes madde,
yf euer any were.
It is a madnesse, thee thy coyne,
so frankly to disburse.
(Frende Damasip,) abate thy spence,
be counsailde by thy purse.

Damasip:
Well Stoicke, thou haste taught vs playne,
that moste of men be wood:
As not to proue me so, agayne,
I praye thee be so godd.

The fourth satire. [of Horace]

Horace.
From whence, and whether Catius?

Catius.
I haue no tyme, farewell,
To teache a schoole of newe preceptes,
not suche as doo excelle
Pythagoras, or Socrates,
or lettred Dan Plato.

Hor.
I graunt my gylt, at yll aspecte,
to speake vnto you so:
Nathelesse, I hope your maystershyppe,
Will beare with me thys ones,
Some dayntie doctrine of your secte.
and nouell for the nones
Propounde, of nature, or of arte,
for you in bothe doo passe.

Cati.
Yea syr, to speake of matters all,
that aye my cummynge was
And for to speake accordyngly,
of rude and homely matter,
A Romayne, or an Alyen,
that taughte you so to clatter?

Horace.
I wyll disclose his mysteries,
but not bewray his name:

Catius.
Least some, myslykyng his preceptes,
the author elfe myght blame.

The Epecure his schoole.

Egges longe and whyte, be nutritiue,
muche better then the rounde:
Egges rosted hard be costiue yea
vnholsome and vnsounde.
The gardeyne herbes be not so swete,
As those on mountaynes bee
The watrye soyle the vertue slakes,
that it is not so free.
The Moushrom that doth spring in meades,
or in a supple grounde
Is beste, for suche as growe els where,
moste noysome haue ben founde.
If guestes come to thee at vnwares,
in water myxte with wyne
Souse thou thy henne, she will become,
shorte, tender, neshe and fyne.
Who after meate, eates Mulberies,
soone ryped of the sonne:
Shall lyue in health and iolytie,

Ausidius, an ylscholer for the Epicure his dyete.

whylste many sommers ronne,
Aufidius myxt heddy wyne,
and honey all in one,
No craftes man he: for symple wynes
doo breede a force alone,
A lonely force in symple wynes:
Meathe vrine dooth prouoke,
The Muge fyshe and the Muscles cheape,
In purgynge beare a stroke.
So Coos wyne with sorell meynt
hath vertue to expell.
Shelfyshe in growynge of the moone,
is beste to eate or sell:
Not euery sea, hath fyshe a lyke:
Pelore in Lucrin growes,
The Murer fishe from Baiæ cums,
whence purple coloure flowes,
From Circes choppynge oysters newe,
From Micen vrchen fishe,
Of scaled Scalop Tarento
bragges, as her proper dyshe.
To furnyshe well a feast, is harde,
a thynge not learnde in haste:
He that woulde doo it gorgious,
must haue a practisde taste.
Its not enough to fraight the boorde
with sea fyshe out of measure:
There muste be brothe for squaymous folke,
and spices all of pleasure.
In Vmbria the maste fedde Bores,
doo charge the vessels greate:
Uessells, whiche haue not in them borne,
the common sortes of meate.
The Bore is yll in Laurente soyle,
that feedes on reakes and reedes,
Somtymes, frome goodly pleasant vine,

The Epicure a Benefactor to the Calat.

a sower tendrell speedes.
Who lykes to eate the fruitfull Hare,
her forepartes are the best,
The choyce and vse of fyshe and fleshe
by me fyrste were expreste.
I made them so delicious,
so welcome to the taste:
Some can vouchesafe theyr wittes and paynes
in pastrye for to waste,
It is not muche commendable,
to knowe a knacke or twayne:
as if in brewinge spyced wynes
thou shouldst bestow muche paine:
And sauce thy meate with foystie oyles,
thy gesse woulde the disdayne.
If thou wilte purge Mounteflascon wynes,
and make them pure and cleare,
Set them abrode in open ayre,
when many starres appeare.
The greuouse smell by force of ayre,
will passe and fade away:
Through streynyng of them through a clothe,
the good smell woulde decay.
To mingle in thyne egge at meales
a litle sacke and saulte,
Doth mende the yelke or whyte therof,
if it haue anye faulte.
With Afrike cocles or with shrimpes,
he that is cloyed may
Be freshe againe: in stomacke sharpe,
the Lettise it doth play.
The stronge may eate good looshiouse meate,
in kytchins whiche be dreste,
The kitchin phisicke, is for them,
simplye, the very beste.
It is behouable to knowe,
of sauce a double kynde,
The one, of simple olyue oyle,
as we in arte do fynde.
The compounde hath that goes therto,
Constantinople bryne,
Herbes shred, and minced very thicke,
some kynde of compounde wyne:
An oyle from Venefratum broughte,
(Lo) that is passinge fyne.
Moste commonly, that fruite is beste,
that lyketh best the eye.
Some grapes may be conserude by meanes,
some pressed by and by
I taught the waye, to kepe them greene,
without all ylde or faulte,
To eate Hearryng with iuyce of grappes,
white pepper, and blacke saulte.
All those I badde, for to be borne,
In vessels of greate pryde.
A fayre brode fishe muste aye be borne,
in vessells large and wyde
To lashe out all, is not the beste,
it can not be denyde.
Muche thynge dothe hurte the stomake muche,

Tve Epicure cannot fynd in his hart to eate vvithe a pore man nor to haue him eate or drink in his companye.

as if thy boye, or mayde
Hathe eate in syghte, or haue thy cuppe,
with slauysh hande assayde.
Or in some creuyshe motes do stycke,
vnmoued to or fro:
Therfore broomes, napkyns, must be bought,
With many trinkets mo,
It is a fylthy ouersighte,
yf all thinges be not cleane:
To rubbe thinges with thy purple clothes,
I wis it woulde them steane.
To haue suche necessary thynges
is hansome, and lesse deare,
Seclude neatenesse, and then no waste,
Can make delitefull cheare.

Poet.

Syr Catius, for Goddes dere loue
and myne, my prayer is,
An other tyme, to leade me where
I maye heare more of this.
Though well I wote, you coulde for skille,
haue played the maisters parte,
Yet nothing lyke the Epicure,
the father of the arte
Besides, his graue and modeste lookes,
and reuerent attyre,
Would make one heare him much the more,
with zeale, and great desyre.
Whome you perchance esteme the lesse,
because you hapie still
Enioye his sight: but I do wish
to go vnto my fil,
The christall fountaines hard to finde,
and there from vertues rife,
To take an practise perfect rules,
of pure and blessed life.

The fifthe Satire [of Horace]

Vlisses.
Tyretia at my request,
tell me a little more,
How may I be, so ritche a man
as I was once before?
By what meanes, or what pollicie?
(Prophete) why dost thou smyle?

Tiretias
O suttel pate, art thou not well,
from shipwracke, and exile
To haue escapd, thy houshold goddes
and Ithacke iles to see?

Vlisses.
O Prophet soothfaste in thy speche,
(alas) but seest thou me,
How bare and beggerly I cum,
into my natiue lande?
(Thou hauing so foretould my fate)
nothing in plight doth stand:
The woers spend vp all my goodes,
and howses do defyle.

Tyresias
My stocke, and vertue without gooddes,
are thought as thinges most vyle.
To cut of talke, since pouertie
thou dost abhorre in hart,
Now harken how from deepe distresse,
a wittye man may starte.
Be sending pretie presents still,
be sewer thy giftes to geue
Unto the wealthie ritche mans house
that is not like to liue.
The Turtle doue, the orcharde fruite,
the honors of the feelde,
The ritch must haue before goddes selfe,
what so thy grounde doth yelde.
Who though he be a periurde man,
of currishe kyndred borne,
All gored in his brothers blood,
a runagate forlorne:
Yet coortsye him and worshipp him,
and if he would it so,
Thou maist not staye to wayte on him
in place wher he shal go.

Vlixes
Can I becum a page to slaues,
to get a sillie catche,
Who erste in Troye, euen with the best
was wont to make my matche?

Tyre
Therfore, stil poore. Applie the world,
and beare it as it is,

Vlixes
Yea I haue borne, and can abyde,
thinges waightier then this.
(Good wysarde) tell a speedie way,
and driue me of no more:
How may I fyll my pouches full,
as they were heretofore?

Tyre
4 I sayde, and eftsoones saye to thee,
be pregnaunt aye in guyle,
Thou muste be forging olde mens wylles,
And if that in thy wyle
5 Thou arte perceyude, yf none wyll byte,
but all from hooke doo flye:
Thou ones deceyude, dispaire not tho,
persiste thine arte to trye.
6 If there be in arbiterment
a matter great or small,
Inquyre vpon the parties bothe,
and circumstances all.
If th' one be ryche, and chyldrenles,
though all the grounde of stryfe
Procede of him, sette thou in foote,
and pleade his cause for lyfe.
The other, if he haue a wyfe,
or hope of progenye,
Though all the worlde proclaym him good
lette thou his quarell lye.
Do clepe the other, by his names,
(fayre wordes with fooles take place:)
Right worshipfull, your vertues (saye)
hath made me pleade your case.
I haue some practise in the lawe,
to parle and mainteyne plea,
In fayth, I rather woulde myne eyes
were drenched in the sea,
Then any of these fyled tonges,
Your worshippe should abuse:
Or spende your goodes. Well go you home,
and cease you thus to muse.
Plucke vp your he arte, leaue all to me,
trye what a frend can do
In heate or colde, I am your owne
to ryde or els to go.
Assay the consequence herof,
some one or other will,
Name thee, an heartie frendly man
a man of witte and skyll.
Thy hunger shall be great excesse,
thy wante muche welthe at ease.
The Tunnye and the whale wyll be,
scarce presentes thee to please,
But here a caution for the, least
some shoulde replye againe,
7 That thou doest good to sole olde men,
as gapyng after gayne.
If thou canst spye a wealthie man,
that hath a wearyshe chylde,
8 There, shewe thy selfe officious,
muche debonaire and mylde:
And caste out talke as though thou couldst,
proue thee, his seconde sonne,
Then plye the olde man, so to say
perchaunce, when he hath done,
The chylde may dye, then who but thou?
make entre on thy right,
9 Suche loose begynninges oftentymes,
growe vp to force and myght.
10 If that the olde man offer thee
his testament to reade,
Make, as thou coulde not, for great grefe,
put it awaye wyth speede
But take a superficiall syght,
if thou muste all possesse:
Or diuers mo cooparteners:
them thou with crafte muste dresse.
By threatninges or by flatterie,
by smothe talke gette thou all,
As Esops foxe allurde the dawe.
to lette her breake fast fal.
As Corauus with such like sort,
deceyued Scipio.

Vlixes
Why art thou mad or mockst for nonce,
for dooming hard thinges so?

Tyre
Laertes sonne what so I say,
must be or els not be,
For great Apollo hath bestowde.
a prophetes gift of me.

Vlixes
Unfold this fable vnto me,
this mysterie bewraye.

Tyre
What time the yong man, feare of parths,
beginnes to beare a swaye,
Augustus Prince by line extract
from duke Aeneas race,
When he shall beare the countenance,
and welde the wrathefull mace,
A noble dame to Corauus,
shall Scipio the bolde
Dispouse, and yet for couetyse
her dowrie large withhold,
Corauus shal a feoffement force,
and eke the writting seale,
A cutting write for Scipio,
which he ne shal repeale.
I geue the furthermore in charge,
if any doting syer,
Be ruled by his maide or man,
thralled to their desyre,
Acquaint thy selfe, forthwith with them,
Praise them, that thee awaye,
With gratefull praise, and like for like,
they may againe repay.
But what of them? seeke euer to

A vvorldlye rule to seeke acquaintance at our better A safe rule Cum æpuali æquale tibi ius erit.

the chiefest, and the best,
Prayse him, laude him, so shalt thou be,
in time a welcome gueste.
In case the carle be leacherous,
his bydding do not byde:
Bring him thy chast Penelope,
to whom thou wast affyde.

Vlix,
Penelope, so temperate,
so continent a dame,
Whom such a route of reuellers,
could neuer staine with shame?

Tyr.
Those younkers came not for to geue.
but hunger for to staunche,
They came for lucre, not for loue,

Prostitution practised for couetise.

to paumper vp the paunche.
But this (lo) were a present way,
for her and the to liue.
Losse made your dame, so temperate,
Her trouthe to none to geue.
I being then well elderly)
at Thebes, ther was a wife,
Who charged strayghtly her assignes,
whylst she was yet in life,
That they should noint, & hold her fast,
if she cold wrast awaye
That thē their hope shold want his hire
and mis his wished pray,
These shew to the that he that woulde
ryse vp by deadd mens bones,
Must play the bawde, the slaue, and lout
and painfull for the nones.
Beare wel thy selfe, serue in such sorte,
that naught may be amended:
The testie, tethye, waspishe churle,
with pratlinge is offended.
Yet sumtimes chat thou merelie,
like Dauus in the play,
Abate thy lookes, as though the man
with presence did the fray.
Be euer ducking downe to him:
if all things be not warme,
Besech him thou, to kepe him close,
lest haplie cum sum harme.
Be stil, and whisht, whilst he speakes oughte
stretche out thy listninge eare,
And neuer cease to magnifye,
whatsoeuer thou dost heare.
In case he wil be blasoned,
sounde and resounde his praise,
Forge and deuise, puffe vp his hart
by any kind of wayes.
What time the wretche drawes to his end
releasing the of paine,
Then wil he say, geue Vlixes,
a quarter of my gaine:
Of al my substaunce of this world.
which voice when thou dost heare,
Alas (say thou) Dama my frende,
shal he no more apeare?
O Dama frend wilt thou be gone?
how may I haue so good,
So trusty, true, and stedfast frende?
howle, cry as thou wert wood,
Weepe if thou canst a litle crashe,
dissemble al thy ioy,
Uppon his toumbe an hansome cost,
and laboure eeke employ,
That neighboures may commende thy acte
and yet a further note:
If one of thy coparteners g
to rutle in the throte,
Take him aside, and salue him fayre,
and tell him if he please,
He shall by house, and lande of you,
for vse, or for his ease.
Muche more (as thou dost like of this)
to the I could haue saide
But I must to my hellishe taske
perforce my tongue is staide.
Proserpina our tyrant Quene.
so vengeful, and so fel,
Doth hayle me hēce, to bide the smart.
with smouldred soules in hell.
Ye worldings make such shifts as those,
adew, and fare you wel.

The sixte satire [of Horace]

People
Good maister, (you do know those goddes
because of neare accesse)
Must we to warre on Dacia,
our selues in armoure dresse?

Ho.
I hard it not.

Peo.
By gisse, (Horace)
you will not leaue your mockinge:

Hor.
Then on my heade (in stiddie wise
let all the goddes be knocking.

Poe,
Cesar made promise he would geue
his souldiers grounde to till:
In Sycilie or Italie?
Sir what is Cesors wil?

Horace,
Me swearing that I know nothing,
they maruaile, as at one,
Of famouse taciturnitie,
and secret gift alone.
In Cytie, thus I spende my dayes,
in muche recourse of care,
O manor place, when shall I see
thy groues so freshe, and fayre?
When shall I soundly plye my booke,
and at my vacant howers
Cut from the world profoundly sleepe,
amid the fragraunt flowers?
Pythagoras, when shall thy beanes,
or colewortes sybbe of kinde
Refresh my hungry appetyte,
whilst I haue supte or dynde?
O nightes, and suppers of the goodes,
in which both I and mine
Make chere at home: my iolli men
do feede so cleane, and fyne
Of all the townishe delicates,
of what, so lykes them best,
My straungers francklye take repast,
with liuely harte, at rest.
When that our sobre companie
begins to warme with drinke,
Of purchasing, or supplantinge
we do not eftsones thinke:
In trothe, our talke it multiplyes,
but not of baude, or queane,
Or who doth friske it best in daunce,
no it is chast, and cleane.
Of knowledge, most behoueable,
as if in riches be,
Or in vertue, the chefest good,
(I clepde felicitye.)
If frendshipp spring of vse, or gaine,
or do to vertue tende
What is the good calde soueraigne,
what is her verye ende.
If any praysinge hurtefull goodes,
of ignoraunce do fayle,
Our neyghbour Seruie, hearing that,
steppes in to tell his tale:
Full gosseplike, the father sage,
beginnes his fable then.
The countrye mouse, did enterteyne,
within her homelye den
The citie mouse, the olde hostesse,

Fable toulde.

her olde acquainted frende
Doth welcum, loth to sparple muche:
and yet for to vnbynde
The corsey anguishe of her geste
with syghtes of daintie fare:
Not hurded pulse, nor longe stalkd otes,
(the prodigal) doth spare.
She serues in mouth the curnell drye,
the gobbets chewde of larde,
To please her geste, with cheefeste meates,
was cheeflie her regarde:
(Her geste that tasted on eche thinge
with toth of muche disdaine)
The rurall mouse eate new thrushde chaffe,
and put her selfe to paine:
Reseruing wheate, and cockle flower,
(two dishes of muche ioy)
Unto the fyne fed citizen,
a straunger all to coy.
At lenghthe bespeakes the cytie mouse:
my frende why lyke you still,
To lyue in countrye fastynglye,
vpon a craggie hill?
How say you? can you fynde in hearte
to haunte, and set more by
The citie, then the saluage woodes?
marche on, be boulde to trye.
Our earthelie soule is ruinouse,
not possible to flye
From dinte of death, by any meanes,
the longeste liude muste dye.
Wherfore good sister, whilste thou maiste,
do bayth they selfe in blisse,
Remember aye, how shadowye,
and shorte this lyfe time is.
These sayinges moued the rusticall,
full lightlie leapeth she:
They both begin this gay exployte,
the citie for to see.
Benighted cum they to the towne:
(for midnighte then did hyde
The midle parte of roumie skie)
when both at equall tyde,
Did presse their foote in pallace proude:
where scarlet vesturs reade,
On Iuery beddes did glose with gleames,
as it were glowing gleade.
Muche was the noble remainder,
of gorgiouse supper paste,
Whiche was bestowed in baskets shutte,
not clasped very faste.
Therfore, this straunger (countrie mouse)
on purple quishion set,
The townishe dame (as nurturde well,)
her noble cates doth fette.
A feast, of much varietie.
she like a seruinge page
Dyd dayne to go to bring, to taste,
in proper personage.
The trauailer, doth lyke her chaunge,
and quyte deuoyde of feare,
As dedicate to feaste, and wealthe,
doth glade her selfe wit cheare.
All sodeynly, the clappynge dore,
doth fraye them into flore,
Affrighted sore, a runde they trip,
Dismayed more, and more.
Also the vaste, and ample house,
of mastie dogges did sounde,
The mowse, beset in sorye wyse,
doth shape her auswere rounde:
Farewell: I nede not suche a lyfe:
the harmelesse wood, and caue,
Can comforte me, with fatche, and tare,
and so my bodye saue.

The seuenth Satyre. [of Horace]

Dauus.
Ere whyles, I listned to your wordes,
and sumthinge woulde haue sayde,
But, I a seruaunte, and Dauus,
was halfe, and more a frayde.
Dauus, a true, and trustie page,
so muche as sence will geue.
A frende sir, so farre vnto you,
as I my selfe may lyue.

Simo.
Because our auncitours so woulde,
the freedom of Decembre
Enioy, speake out all things amisse,
that thou doste nowe remembre.
Some men do stifflye sticke to voyde,
and still pursue theyr praye,

Dauus,
Sum to and fro, now well nowe woorse,
and kepe no common stay.
Lyke Priscus, chaunging of his ringes,
who such attyre hath bought,
And chaungde his suites, so ofte a day
him selfe hath chaungde to noughte.
His house, and lande, to morgage layde,
yea, neede doth him compell,
In simple cotage to abyde,
where scarce a slaue woulde dwell.
At Athins, very studente lyke,
at Rome, a lustie lad,
I maruaile, what vnstable starres
what byrthsygnes once he had.
Volauerye stickes to one trade,
for gowte he can not ryse,
And therefore nowe he fees a man,
to caste for him the dyse.
Suche constaunte folke be better then
those chaunglings in and oute,
Who plunge in euerye follye, whiche
theire heades can bringe aboute.

Simo.
Wilte thou not say, thou stretche hempe, thou
whome thou meanes in thy pratlynge?

Dauus.
I meane euen the

S.
How so sir knaue?

Da.
For, thou wilte still be tatling
In praysing state of foraine tymes,
but if that thou mightest chuse,
And God would place the in those worldes,
no doubte, thou shouldste refuse.
Or thou in hearte didste neuer thincke,
whiche thou in worde hast sayde,
Or thou not stoutlye cleauiste to
the truth as halfe vnstayde.
Scarce fullie yet resolude to plucke
thy foote out of the myer.
At Rome thou loues to be abrode,
abrode, thou doste desyre
To cum to Rome, and dost extoll
that lyfe aboue the skye
If thou beest no mans geste abrode
then doste thou magnifye
The priuate cheare as though thou wouldste,
be bounde to lyue so stille:
And thinckes it well, that thou ne goyste
to tipple, and to swill.
But if sum bid the cum indede,
thou lins, not then to crie,
Oyle, water, haste my seruants haste,
awaye thou doste the hye.
Full manye sillie seruiters,
that wayte wyth emptie paunche
Say to them selues, when will this churle
his glutton stomacke staunche?
I am a smelfeaste bellyegod,
idle, and full of slouthe
A gredie gut, and at a worde
a seruaunte to my tothe.
Since thou art euen as yll, as I,
and worse to, in thine harte,
How durst thou first beginne with me,
as thoughe thou better warte?
Thou canst disguise thy sinne with words,
thy wickednes vnfould,

The satyre altered

Thou art more fole then I, which earst,
for fyftie grotes was sould
Explaine thy browes, restraine thy handes
alay thine anger fell,
What Cryspins porter toulde of the
I wil make bould to tel.
(Quod he) Dauus, that sillye foole,
hath not his masters cast,
His harte is euer in his tongue,
for if the fact be past
He takes no sounder rest, whilst he.
hath chatterd out the thing,
Then doth the swine, that hath her groine
new wounded with a ringe.
In open day, in open stretes,
he praunces, and he prates,
He makes the younkers al a flote,
to breake the brothells gates.
His acts are euer euydent,
and therfore rife in talke,
Because he doth not make pretence,
nor vnder coler walke.
His master goes in sage attyre:
that geues a sober shue,
His master solempne in his wordes:
that makes him seme so true:
Dauus in sight of all the world
doth as I sayd before.
Simo doth al that pryuilye,
much willing to do more
Simo is riche and rubbes it out:
for goulde hath this by kynde,
To louse or tye the tongues of men,
and to contente their mynde.
Simo maye be a goose, a sheepe,
a noddie, and a daw,
And haue not giftes, or qualities,
to counterpeyse a strawe:
Yet Parasytes will tearme him good,
and wyse, at all assayes.
I wisse, redde goulde can make a daulte,
a paragon of praise.
Yf Dauus do but talke amisse,
a cockescombe, or a bell:
Suche badges might beseeme oft tyme
the masters very well.
The royster weares not alwayplumes,
nor yet the deuill a tayle,
If euery foole did were a bell,
there would be iollye sayle.
Simo can laye to vsurie,
and yet by plea of sleighte,
He will persuade the thinge to be
a sinne of little weighte.
So drunckennesse, is belowship,
furye, is manhood foulde,
Fondnesse is francknesse, and scarcehead,
for thriftynesse, is houlde.
In fyne, no cryme, no vyce, no sinne
in Simo, muste vs knowne:
No faulte in Dauus but forthwith
with trumpet it is blowne.
Yea, Simo can cloke leacherie,
or clepe it, by suche name
That now it seemes, a neyghborhood,
a thinge of little blame.

Simo,
He slaundered me, (Dauus my man,
I am no leacher, I.)

Dauus
Nor I a theefe, though, I woulde steale,
and yet for feare passe by
A peece of plate, but this I say,
take punishement awaye:

Masters the more disolute for default of correction.

Nature woulde breake her bridle straighte
vnrulye without staye.
Canste thou be calde my gouernoure
which arte to vyces thrall,
To fansyes, pleasures, wrathe, and teene,
sythens, I shun them all?
If all the customes of oure courte,
woulde franchyse thee in libertie,
Thy feare of goodes would make the slaue,
and keepe the still in villanie.
Also an other argument:
if that your customes all,
A seruantes man, a substitute,
or fellewe seruaunte call,
What am I, in respect of you?
for thou haste rule on me,
A wretche, subiecte to thy luste,
as any wretche can be,
My master, to a sencelesse blocke
thats moued by others mighte,
Pufte vp with pleasures plungie puffe,
may be resembled ryghte.

Simo
Who then is free?

Da.
The wise that can
his owne affections stay,
Whom neyther neede, nor death, nor grefe
of massye gyues can fraye.

Dauus
Thy conscience wil worke the teene
whersoeuer thou dost goe

Simo
Ah sirre, wher mighte I get a stafe?

Dauus
wherfore? Simo: or els a stone?
My maister maddes, or maketh rymes,
he museth so alone.

Simo:
Except thou wilt be trudginge hence,
and make no more delaies,
Thou shalt goe to my manoure place,
to worke thes nine long dayes.

The eighte satire [of Horace]

Horace:
Howe doo you like the Epicures
repaste, so riche, and gay?
This other day I sent for you,
and then I did heare say,
You dynd abrode.

Fund.
In faith my frend
it liked me so much,
That ere this time, I do beleue,
there neuer was one suche.

Horace:
If that it be not tedious,
nor do not you displease,
What meate was first, your angrye maw
that gan for to appease?

Fundanus
Fyrst had we brawne from Lucanie,
the father of the feast,
Saide, he was slaine when southerne wind
his blustering blastes releast.
Rapes, Radishe, Lettice, Sherwicke rotes,
brothe start in tast, and quicke
Came next to make our stomake slow
more vrgently to pricke.
Fayre trēchers then was cald for straight,
the purple carpet drest,
Eche man desyres to syte next him,
that tauntingly can iest:
Rybauldes, and cockescombes are in deed
a sauce vnto our feast.
Fooles haue with vs a priuiledge
to tel who, what, and when,
Fooles speake oft times, the very thoughts
of wise and wittie men.
Ther was the costly Cullices
the Turbut and the Pyke,
The Porpose and the Porpentine
with many such the like.
Pyge, partrige, peacocke, sparrowe, qwale,
so many of a rowe,
That scarce the eater leaueth rome,
to fetche his wind, or blow.
All thinges, so formally brought in,
so solemnely assaide,
As though on alters to the Gods
the banket had bene made.
What drinke you maisters (quod our hoste)
Gascoyne or Rennishe wine.
We haue of al sortes in this house,
both lately brochde and fyne.
Then when that wine had wonne the fielde,
and maisterd al our guesse,
Lord what it was a ioy to see,
how some it downe doth presse:
Like as the thing that heauye is,
of Nature so is made,
(Except the same by violence
forholden be and staid,
To fal to grounde: like as the oke,
of substance styfe and stoute
Cums downe, when he with dynting axe
is hewed round aboute:
So doo our hoglings sinke foorthwith,
(their heade a Baccus barge)
Wine is I tel you, burtheynous,
and passing ful of charge.
Some singes of loue and louers fittes,
and, how Cupidos dart
Did smite him (gentil soule) amysse,
so deautyful an harte.
Some mourne and blame their sorie fate,

The diuers sortes of drunkerdes

why Fortune shoulde be suche,
That they suche blouddes shoulde nothinge haue,
and others ouermuche.
Sume chyde, some chatte, some raue, some reele,
and some can take the payne,
Of curtesye to geue myne hoste,
his supper vp againe.
Some will vnfould bygge mysteries,
and fram his matter so,
As though he had aboue the reste,
gotte Phebus by the toe.
Some wyll lament the state of tymes,
and howe that all is nought.
Howe thinges be rysen in theyr price,
and howe they haue ben bought.
Some sweare that they haue lyued yll,
and howe to morowe daye,
They wyll accorde with all the worlde,
and gynne on other playe.
How Vertue is a perelesse dame,
howe fewe do her imbrace:
This will they preache in gestryng wyse
as though in publike place
The thing were done. (lo Horace, lo)
our suppers and our cheare:
We spare no coste, we may not aske
if it be ceape, or deare
We keepe a troupe of seruynge men:
a crewe of lusty brutes,
And these for our great honours sake,
muste cutte it in their sutes.
These be our handye instrumentes,
to worchen all our will,
Not scrupulous for to inquire,
if it be good or ill.
So many, so officious,
that not one heare may lye
Amisse on vs, but he or he,
will spye it by and by.
We laugh at those when they are drunke,
those make a sporte alone:
To scoffe at straungers, when as they
with drinke are ouergone.
So so, no more Cupide cannot
from hyue of honey licke,
But one or other bee forthewith
will sting hym with her prycke.
The world the hyue the combes, the welth,
which who so dothe assaye,
Pleasure in face, poyson in tayle,
Lyke Scorpion they wyll paye,
The stynges that pricke be choking cares,
These hony tasters haue:
Whilst they are toste within thē selues,
to seeke, or howe to saue.
Wealthe is a thynge moste venomous,
and fewe or none we fynde,
But pleasure hath lyke Circes cuppes
yturnde them from their kynde.
Why shoulde the wyse esteme so muche,
a rowte of waytyng men?
Who, in theyr age most commonly,
what are they? beggers then.
Brought vp so lewde, contynue lewde,
retchelesse, and ydell swaynes:
Not knowyng arte, or handycrafte,
nor able to take paynes.
To kepe them braue, doothe euen as muche
thyne honour true vpholde
As yf thou shouldste make thee a tayle,
and gylde the same with golde
Is hospitalitie in those,
in feding any such?
In keping strong and heddy drinkes,
in beluing ouermuch?
Like spunges neuer satisfyed,
and like Vlixes foes,
From meate to bed, from bed to meate,
and so their circle goes.
Deuisers of all wantonnesse,
what shoulde I tell you more?
Good to increase, and multiplye
their lorde or maisters skore.
I do suppose, that if mens wealthes,
should answere to theyr wylles,
That night and day wold scarse suffice
to reuel out their fylles.
Eche man is counted of most price
and meet to be a Lord,
As he with dishes can depaint,
and ouercharge a borde.
No talke how wise, how vertuous,
or to take paines how able,
But if he kepe great store of drinke,
or honorable table.
Ther fore some people parasites,
that they may seme to passe,
Wyll spend out Malueseye, Muscadel,
and fumyshe Hypocrasse.
And make their cookes so looshiouslye,
their delicates to dresse
Their very meates so insensiue,
brought in, in such excesse:
That I do lothe them more in minde
as thinges more full of harme,
Then it that witche, that Canadie,
had cursde them with her charme

Horace to his booke

Me thinkes my booke thou ginnes to looke,
to sayle for to be gone:
And now forsouthe to lye out sleakd
with printers poomise stone.
Thou hates for to be locked vp,
with claspe for to be shitte,
Though shamfast bokes haue wel estemed
and euer likd of it
Thou sorye to be shewed to fue
communitie dost praise:
Not so instructed Booke of me,
go flye thy fancyed waies,
Thou neuer must returne againe.
Ah wretche why did I long?
What haue I done? (thus wilt thou say)
when sum haue done the wrong.
This wel knowes thou, the reader cloyed.
wil eftsones at the snatche,
And thou by running thus abrode,
thine ill report dost hatche.
Except that I an Augur false
to rid the hence mistake me,
Thou shalt be dere to Rome a while,
whilst thy good dayes forsake the.
Then must thou be an obscure booke
for moughtes on the to eate,
A goodlie dishe, thou must becum
the sluggie mough her meate
A passinger through eche hobbes hand,
when thou ginst to be vile,
Thou must becum to wrap vp spice
to trudge abowt a while
On pedlers backe, from towne, to towne
and I that warnd the stil
To lurke with me, shall haue good cause
to lawght at the my fill.
As he that drew his asse vp th' hill
the auckward best drew backe,
Angerd at last, he cast him downe
to feele his fatal th wacke.
The practise knowne, the prouerb knowne
and talked on al the day,
Who can, or would hould backe the thing,
that nedes would be away?
And stamering age to petyte laddes
in corners al wil reede the,
This occupacion bides the to,
thou maist haue ioy to speede the,
On sum hote day when al thy frinds
are reeding the yfeare
Deliuer vp this speache to them
which I will tell the here.
My father but a bondman borne
and I at first but poore,
I stretchd my wings, and from my nest
did mount aloft, and sore,
That looke what praise from me for birth:
and base kind thou dost take:
So much praise pardie more is due
to me, for vertues sake.

Horace of himselfe.

Do tel them that I euer pleasde
at home, abrode those men
Which bare the cheefest swey in towne
and were the lode starres then.
Of stature smal, gray headed soone,
of sonning very faine,
Hastie to wrathe, but so that I
was straight way pleasde againe,
And let them knowe that I had lyud
fowre times eleauen yeres cleare
When Lollius and Lepidus
were Consuls in theire yere.