A pleasant Discourse of Court and Wars with a replication to them both, and a commendation of all those that truly serue Prince and countrie. Written by Thomas Churchyard, and called his Cherrishing |
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A reply to the reasons rehersed. |
 | A pleasant Discourse of Court and Wars |  |
A reply to the reasons rehersed.
Court cannot pleas, ech one that still doth craue
No more than seas, can make all sailers ritch,
Though few thereby, do gaine yet some may saue,
And keepe a meane, if folly be not mitch,
There foode is free, and all belongs to health,
Fire, rest, and ease, and pleasures of the eie,
Then for those ioies, who bids them spend their welth?
Or follow gaine, or waste their goods thereby?
If in one cloke, or sute a Lordship stands,
Blame not the court, but blame vnthrifty hands.
No more than seas, can make all sailers ritch,
Though few thereby, do gaine yet some may saue,
And keepe a meane, if folly be not mitch,
There foode is free, and all belongs to health,
Fire, rest, and ease, and pleasures of the eie,
Then for those ioies, who bids them spend their welth?
Or follow gaine, or waste their goods thereby?
If in one cloke, or sute a Lordship stands,
Blame not the court, but blame vnthrifty hands.
Though shining robes, becoms a Courtier well,
Meane men may weare, good garments of small price.
If waste will needes, his patrimony sell,
Or play away, his lands at cards and dice,
Court is not cause, of that expence and charge,
No more than plow, and carts makes Farmars poore.
If gallants gay, cuts their owne clokes too large,
That they like brooms, sweepe rushes from the doore,
Short capes in Court, were fitter for a shoe,
In such light weeds, of yore did Courtiers goe.
Meane men may weare, good garments of small price.
If waste will needes, his patrimony sell,
Or play away, his lands at cards and dice,
Court is not cause, of that expence and charge,
No more than plow, and carts makes Farmars poore.
If gallants gay, cuts their owne clokes too large,
That they like brooms, sweepe rushes from the doore,
Short capes in Court, were fitter for a shoe,
In such light weeds, of yore did Courtiers goe.
If men could sort, themselues in Court aright,
The good may meete, as good as he therein,
And stately Court, hates all lewd maners light,
No coosning knack, can there no fauour win.
Finenes and fraud, are often frownd at thear:
Dissemblance shames, to show a double face,
And though good wits, in Court can speake full fear,
Rip iudgement soone, finds out a courtly grace,
And will not be, ore reacht with shoe or signe
Of wily heads, though they be ner so fine.
The good may meete, as good as he therein,
And stately Court, hates all lewd maners light,
No coosning knack, can there no fauour win.
Finenes and fraud, are often frownd at thear:
Dissemblance shames, to show a double face,
And though good wits, in Court can speake full fear,
Rip iudgement soone, finds out a courtly grace,
And will not be, ore reacht with shoe or signe
Of wily heads, though they be ner so fine.
Court is a well, and fountaine full of springs
That runs to those, that watch their seasons due,
Who to the cock, their empty bucket brings,
When bounties streames, spouts water fresh and new.
All cannot thriue, that daily sell and by,
Some merchant prooues, bankrout ere he be ware:
All shafts will not, against ill weather flie:
They hit the marke, that cunning archers are:
Court is not bound, to pleasure eury one:
Court is a king, and subiect vnto none.
That runs to those, that watch their seasons due,
Who to the cock, their empty bucket brings,
When bounties streames, spouts water fresh and new.
All cannot thriue, that daily sell and by,
Some merchant prooues, bankrout ere he be ware:
All shafts will not, against ill weather flie:
They hit the marke, that cunning archers are:
Court is not bound, to pleasure eury one:
Court is a king, and subiect vnto none.
If fauorits rise, dame Fortunes babes they bee
Begot and bred, by sudden destnies lot,
Lads that good hap, hath dandled on hir knee,
Tooke all their pap, out of the sweete creame pot:
The rest are faire, yoong children borne to soone,
Or out of time, as many yoonglings bee
No Planets birds, nor darlings of the Moone,
Nor fixed stars, that stands in highst degree,
But retrograde, in some aspects but base
Falne fro the clouds, from Iupiters good grace.
Begot and bred, by sudden destnies lot,
Lads that good hap, hath dandled on hir knee,
Tooke all their pap, out of the sweete creame pot:
The rest are faire, yoong children borne to soone,
Or out of time, as many yoonglings bee
No Planets birds, nor darlings of the Moone,
Nor fixed stars, that stands in highst degree,
But retrograde, in some aspects but base
Falne fro the clouds, from Iupiters good grace.
Though many names, to court these Poets giues,
Whose fained Art, are full of fables vaine,
When they themselues, by gifts of Princes liues
And by the Court, their betters far do gaine,
Court cares not for, their stretched termes nor muse,
That in a moode, finds fault with this or that,
Whose hie conceits, doth out their pen abuse,
Which on the spleen, may write they know not what:
Court thinks great scorne, to stoup or seem so weake,
As answer make, to any word they speake.
Whose fained Art, are full of fables vaine,
When they themselues, by gifts of Princes liues
And by the Court, their betters far do gaine,
Court cares not for, their stretched termes nor muse,
That in a moode, finds fault with this or that,
Whose hie conceits, doth out their pen abuse,
Which on the spleen, may write they know not what:
Court thinks great scorne, to stoup or seem so weake,
As answer make, to any word they speake.
FINIS.
| A pleasant Discourse of Court and Wars | |