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The First Parte, of The Eyghth liberall Science

Entituled, Ars adulandi, The Arte of Flatterie, with the confutation therof, both very pleasaunt and profitable, deuised and compiled, by Vlpian Fulwell
 
 
 

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A Dialogue betweene the Author and his Muse, as touching the dedication of this booke.
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A Dialogue betweene the Author and his Muse, as touching the dedication of this booke.

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The first characters of lines 1–3 and first four of line 4 of the first stanza and the first characters of lines 1–4 and first three of line 5 of the second stanza form an acrostic

Authour
My freendly Muse leaue Parnas hill a while,
I craue thy ayde and counsayle now at neede:
Lend mee thy laurel crown to guiue my stile,
DRED drives my minde to doubt of lucky speed
May I be bold this rude booke to addres,
To her who is a Mirror of worthinesse.

Muse.
Blush not at all (thou dastard) in this case,
Vnto the best, best welcome is goodwill,
Refrayne thy doubtes, and hope for fauours grace,
Giue mee the charge to rule thy rusty quill:
LEY all thy care vpon her curtesie:
Whose noble hart knowes all humanity.

Authour
Thy wordes (my Muse) some hope of hap doth yeeld,
But yet I feele a conflict in my brest:
And whether part may win in mee the feelde,
My staggering doubt vncertayne yet doth rest:
Before mine eyes a platforme doth appeare,
Of all her worthynesse as thou shalt heare.
If learning may lifte vp her fame to skies,
Her laude is sent vnto the highest throne:
If vertue vaunt, a lofte hir honor flies,
In godlines hir like is rarely knowne,
For noble nature, and for curtesie,
What should I say, my pen cannot descry.
May I not then bee ouer saucy deemd,
To make a match as this so far vnfit.
May I haue hope my booke to bee esteemd,
That shewes not forth one dramme of skill ne wit:
Nay, nay, my Muse, I am resolude in minde:
My vndeserts, shall slender fauour finde.

Muse
Ah simple sot, I cannot choose but smile,
To see how thou doost maske in follies net:


Thou seemst abashed of thy homely stile,
Lear ne this of mee, and doo it not forget,
Where learned skill her golden gyftes doo place:
Good will vnlearned shall finde fauours grace.
Where vertue keepes possession of the brest,
And godlinesse doth harbour in the hart,
Scorne is exylde, shee doth disdaine detest,
From noble nature, fauour doth not start.
Shun not to shew the fruites of thy good will,
No shame ensues where meaning is not yll.
The simple beast that feares the Lious lookes,
Is flesht at length by fauour once obtaynde:
Though (as thou sayst) vnskilfull bee thy bookes,
Yet thou ere this hast fauours freendship gainde.
Her noble spouse, thy booke did not disdayne,
While in thy brest like skirmish did remaine.
Where Milde is first, Rede then what doth ensue,
Milde mindes are alwayes matcht with curtesie:
Dread not at all, shee will vouchsafe to vew
Thy booke if thou approche with modesty,
No tricke of loue or Venus wanton toyes,
Are herein pend, to feede fonde louers ioyes.
If coy conceit of curious eloquence,
Had fixed foote within her learned minde:
Then were it time for thee to fly from hence,
To hunt for termes that hardly thou maist finde.
But why doo I, to thee this lesson tell,
Shee is none such, and that thou knowest full well.
Then on I goe, God sende mee lucky speede,
In humble wise, to craue her fauours grace:
Adew dispaire, on hope my hart shall feede,
With full assurance of her freendly face.
And this I vow, and shall perfourme the same,
In prayer to recorde her noble name.
While life doth last.