The paine of pleasure describing in a perfect mirror, the miseries of man [by Anthony Munday] |
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Honour, The third pleasure.
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 | The paine of pleasure |  |
Honour, The third pleasure.
Which
ioy to tell, by name is Honour hie,
Which noblest mindes account the greatest ioy:
Which first obtainde, by deadly ieopardie,
They doe God knowes, with care enough enioy.
Oh man most madde to loue so vaine a thing,
As with small ioy, doth thousand sorrowes bring.
Which noblest mindes account the greatest ioy:
Which first obtainde, by deadly ieopardie,
They doe God knowes, with care enough enioy.
Oh man most madde to loue so vaine a thing,
As with small ioy, doth thousand sorrowes bring.
Loe, first the care in seeking how to clime,
With studie strange, how it doth beate our braine:
In climing then our obseruaunce of time,
Then heede to holde, least we goe downe againe.
The feare to fall, and if we fall, what then?
But feare of death, which happes to many men.
With studie strange, how it doth beate our braine:
Then heede to holde, least we goe downe againe.
The feare to fall, and if we fall, what then?
But feare of death, which happes to many men.
Let vs scape death, yet may we breake a bone,
Or lame a limme, or bruse vs inwardly:
Or catch a clap may make our harts to grone,
And breede our death, although not presently.
Let vs misse these, and haue no harme at all:
Yet will it be a griefe to take a fall.
Or lame a limme, or bruse vs inwardly:
Or catch a clap may make our harts to grone,
And breede our death, although not presently.
Let vs misse these, and haue no harme at all:
Yet will it be a griefe to take a fall.
And if againe, they venter for to clime,
Then must they be more warie then before:
For if they chaunce to fall the second time,
Tis ten to one but they are brused sore.
Yet if they liue, and seeke to clime againe,
And third time fall, that brings a deadly paine.
Then must they be more warie then before:
For if they chaunce to fall the second time,
Tis ten to one but they are brused sore.
Yet if they liue, and seeke to clime againe,
And third time fall, that brings a deadly paine.
Now sundry men, deuise a sundry meane,
To make their way to Honour to attaine:
What two will chuse, the third misliketh cleane,
And glory seekes another way to gaine.
But he that seekes the best way that he can:
Shall finde vnsought some sorrow now and then.
To make their way to Honour to attaine:
What two will chuse, the third misliketh cleane,
And glory seekes another way to gaine.
But he that seekes the best way that he can:
Shall finde vnsought some sorrow now and then.
And now and then, such sorrowes as in deede,
If euery man would wisely way in minde,
We soone should see, how farre they doe exceede,
The little ioyes that we by honour finde.
Oh minde most vaine, to seeke so vaine a ioy:
Which many wayes doth worke so great annoy.
If euery man would wisely way in minde,
We soone should see, how farre they doe exceede,
The little ioyes that we by honour finde.
Oh minde most vaine, to seeke so vaine a ioy:
Which many wayes doth worke so great annoy.
And now, as men doe sundry meanes deuise,
To scale the toppe of Honours stately throne:
So doe their sorrowes diuers wayes arise,
Which makes their mindes, to make a sundry mone.
Some sigh and sob in secrete sorte alone:
To make their griefe, vnto the world vnknowne.
To scale the toppe of Honours stately throne:
So doe their sorrowes diuers wayes arise,
Which makes their mindes, to make a sundry mone.
Some sigh and sob in secrete sorte alone:
To make their griefe, vnto the world vnknowne.
For loe, some men doe seeke, by force of armes,
To gaine the honour of a valiant Knight:
Which by ill hap vnto their dayly harmes,
Doe finde a foe to vanquish them in fight.
In seeking then to clime to Honour so,
Or death or maime doth breede their deadly woe.
To gaine the honour of a valiant Knight:
Doe finde a foe to vanquish them in fight.
In seeking then to clime to Honour so,
Or death or maime doth breede their deadly woe.
Some other seeke by Riches to attaine,
Euen in the top of Honour high to sit:
But climing vp, Fates sling them downe againe,
As men in deede for such a place vnfit.
Which if they fall, and riches fall withall:
Way then what griefe doth fret them at the gall.
Euen in the top of Honour high to sit:
But climing vp, Fates sling them downe againe,
As men in deede for such a place vnfit.
Which if they fall, and riches fall withall:
Way then what griefe doth fret them at the gall.
Some fondly thinke, by wasting wealth to gaine,
The honour due to liberality:
Which contrary vnto their pinching paine,
Get the dispraise of prodigality.
Which when (alas) their wealth is gone and spent,
Oh thinke how then their follies they lament.
The honour due to liberality:
Which contrary vnto their pinching paine,
Get the dispraise of prodigality.
Which when (alas) their wealth is gone and spent,
Oh thinke how then their follies they lament.
But let these men that seeke for honour so,
As first the Knight that seekes by force of armes
T'obtaine the same, yet see his after woe,
In midst of ioy, vnto his deadly harmes
Another comes that is of greater might:
And dispossesse him of his honour quite.
As first the Knight that seekes by force of armes
T'obtaine the same, yet see his after woe,
In midst of ioy, vnto his deadly harmes
Another comes that is of greater might:
And dispossesse him of his honour quite.
Oh then by losse the griefe doth farre exceede
His little ioy in keeping of the same:
Euen so the Churle that by his pence indeede,
May win a while, the Forte of noble fame.
Yet vnawares such fortune may befall,
That he may loose, both Honour, coyne and all.
His little ioy in keeping of the same:
Euen so the Churle that by his pence indeede,
May win a while, the Forte of noble fame.
Yet vnawares such fortune may befall,
That he may loose, both Honour, coyne and all.
And then what griefe the couetous conceiue,
By losse of coyne their great and chiefest ioy:
A man that hath but one eie may perceiue,
That nothing more can breede their harts annoy.
And though their griefe of honour lost be least,
Yet who would part with honour once possest?
By losse of coyne their great and chiefest ioy:
A man that hath but one eie may perceiue,
That nothing more can breede their harts annoy.
And though their griefe of honour lost be least,
Yet who would part with honour once possest?
Now they that do by spending free obtaine,
Of many men, perhaps a noble name:
Yet noble mindes can finde no greater paine,
Then want of wealth for to maintaine the same.
Whose falling so, doth worke them much despight,
As doth their harts bereaue of all delight.
Of many men, perhaps a noble name:
Then want of wealth for to maintaine the same.
Whose falling so, doth worke them much despight,
As doth their harts bereaue of all delight.
But who would seeke the perfect way to clime,
To Honours throne, and surely there to sit:
Must wisely seeke with obseruance of time,
By Uertues line the ready way to hit.
For Uertue gaines, in life a noble name:
And after death immortall noble Fame.
To Honours throne, and surely there to sit:
Must wisely seeke with obseruance of time,
By Uertues line the ready way to hit.
For Uertue gaines, in life a noble name:
And after death immortall noble Fame.
Uertue is it, that onely yeeldeth ioy,
A ioy besides that euer will endure:
And such a ioy as worketh no annoy,
But doth indeede a heauenly ioy procure.
Oh ioy of ioyes, by thee God graunt vs all:
To clime to heauen, and neuer thence to fall.
A ioy besides that euer will endure:
And such a ioy as worketh no annoy,
But doth indeede a heauenly ioy procure.
Oh ioy of ioyes, by thee God graunt vs all:
To clime to heauen, and neuer thence to fall.
But let me leaue of Honour now to write,
And speake my minde of meaner kinde of ioyes:
Which to some mindes do giue a great delight,
Yet wisely waide, are nothing else but toyes.
And with their ioyes, which are but small indeede,
What woes they worke, which farre their ioyes exceede.
And speake my minde of meaner kinde of ioyes:
Which to some mindes do giue a great delight,
Yet wisely waide, are nothing else but toyes.
And with their ioyes, which are but small indeede,
What woes they worke, which farre their ioyes exceede.
| The paine of pleasure | |