The vvorkes of a young wyt trust vp with a Fardell of pretie fancies, profitable to young Poetes, preiudicial to no man, and pleasaunt to euery man to passe away idle tyme withall. Whereunto is ioyned an odde kynde of wooing, with a Banquet of Comfettes, to make an ende withall. Done by N. B. Gentleman |
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[A prouerbe olde there is, which wise men count for true] |
 | The vvorkes of a young wyt |  |
[A prouerbe olde there is, which wise men count for true]
[_]
The Author mynding to wryte somewhat, yet not resolued what: wrote in verse certayne demaundes with himselfe what to write, as foloweth.
that oft of sluggish idlenesse, great euils do ensue.
Which Prouerbe old, and true, when I do cal to mynde:
to set my self about strayght way, I somwhat seek to find.
For feare least sitting stil, when I haue nought to doo,
some thriflles thought myne idle mynde would set it selfe vnto.
Sometyme I sit and reade, such bookes as lykes me best,
sometyme a learned graue discourse, sometyme a pleasaunt iest,
Sometyme I take my penne, and then I fall to wryte,
to learne to frame a letter fayre, sometime I doo indite,
Some prety odde conceit, to please my selfe withall,
sometyme agayne I musick vse, although my skil be smal.
Lo thus I reade, I write, I doo indite, and sing.
6
And now not long ago, not hauing much to doo,
but thinking best what kynde of woorke to set my selfe vnto.
I tooke my pen and Inke, and thought in deede to write
some kind of prety pleasant toy, my minde for to delight.
But scarce I had begun, but then I thought againe,
in countryes profit for to write, to take a little payne:
And thinking so, alas, vnto my selfe, quoth I,
what can I write, that any man may profit gayne thereby?
My yeares are very young, experience but small,
my learning lesse, & (God he knowes) my wisedome least of al.
And being then so young, and inexpert also,
and wisedome want to iudge in mynd, which way the world wil go,
What almost can I write, but I must gayne thereby,
but labour lost, and many a flout, for writing so fondly?
To write of pleasant toyes to purchase deepe delyght,
why euery Rimer writes such stuffe, then what shall I endite?
Some Ditties of despite? No, yet I like that wurse:
shall I then write some ruffling rime to sweare, and banne, and curse?
Fie, that were woorst of all: shall I then write of kings?
of princely Peeres, and Princes courtes, and of such gallant things?
No, no, no wordes of them, what euer so they be:
Quod supra nos nihil ad nos, then let them be for me:
Shall I go lower then, and write of meaner sorte?
well, if I doo, I must take heede what tales I doo reporte.
What, shall I tell their faultes, and how they may amend?
why, they will bid me mend my selfe, ere I doo reprehend:
What? shall I take in hand the truth in deede to teach?
thē some wil say, beware your Geese, the Fox begins to preach.
Shall I then write of warres? oh no, I am too young:
I neuer seruice saw in field, then I must hold my tongue:
What? shall I write of ships, and sayling in the seas?
alas, my skill in saylors art is scarcely worth two peas.
What? shall I write of Quirkes and Quidities in law?
no, no, for then I by and by, should shewe my selfe a Daw.
What then? of fruites or plants, of floures, hearbes and trees,
6
Tush no, the Gardner saies, my cunning is but small:
and therfore I must hold my peace, and meddle not withal.
To such as rulers be, their duties shall I tel?
why, they wil bid me rule my selfe, and then I shall doo well.
What? shall I somwhat write of thriftie husbandry?
then shall I shame my selfe (alas) for none so ill as I.
What? shall I set out rules for to be taught in schoole?
I am so young a scholar, I should prooue my selfe a foole.
Shall I tell scholars then, what is their due to doo?
lets see good orders, say young boyes, you set your selfe vnto.
What shall I write of sinne? what shame dooth growe therby:
why, some will bid me mend for shame, for no man woorse then I
Of vertue shal I speake, how it dooth purchase Fame?
then some that see my sinful life, wil bid me peace for shame.
Why then what may I write? if neyther this nor that,
nor tother Theame wil serue my turne, good faith I know not what
I may resolue vpon, but what my Muse thinkes best
to write vppon, I ready am to write at her request.
For why I playnly see, Dame Pallas sure hath sent
some Muse to me, to helpe me now some matter to inuent.
And as me thinkes in mynd, shee greatly me dooth moue,
to write some dolorous discourse, of lots of luckelesse loue:
Which since shee so desires, I am content to show,
what passion once a louer pend, opprest with endlesse wot:
And if my Muse agayne doo chaunce to change her mynd,
then shal you see to her content, what matter I wil fynd.
Now looke what so I write, referre it to my Muse,
and blame not me, but let her fault my folly quite excuse.
And take in worth, I craue, as shee my mind doeth moue,
this doleful and most strange discourse, that first I write of loue.
| The vvorkes of a young wyt | |