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Foure Paradoxes

Of Arte, Of Lawe, Of Warre, Of Seruice, By T. S. [i.e. Thomas Scott]

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Omnis est misera seruitus.
 



Omnis est misera seruitus.

Bvt staie: O rest thee Muse, and rest thee Mind,
I now haue found the iewell which I sought,
Whose onely good is in it self confind,
The sanctuary of the hopefull thought.
The port of safetie, and the happy Life,
Free from malitious broyles, and tedious strife.
Who list to draw himselfe from publicke throng,
And to conuerse with men of more regard;
Or feares the waightie power of others wrong,
Or seekes himselfe from enuious tonges to ward.
Or couets quiet, or eschues debate,
Or loues content, or feares leane-visag'd Hate.


Let him repaire to Court, and in the Court,
(Like Iuie) cleaue vnto some great mans side,
Whose able strength his weakenesse may support,
And with his spreading armes, and shadow wide,
Protect and patronize his feeble youth,
And yeelde him needeful sap t'increase his growth.
So may he liue secure, free from the feare
Of publike malice, or close-creeping Hate,
And neuer dread the Sunne or Wind should seare
His verdant moysture and exalted state.
For still hir Lord protects him with his bowes,
So he growes vp, euen as his patron growes.


O happy man, whose fortune t'is to finde,
This rare-ly-hare of Bowntie in the great:
Which sooner happens to th' illiterate hinde,
Then him whose braine the learned Sisters heate,
Because the man that's onely great in show,
Dreads other men his ignorance should know.
This makes the child of fortune to reueale
His thoughts to drudging bores, and shallow fooles:
But all his consultations to conceale,
From those that are not enemies to schooles.
For ignorance, like euery other sinne,
Loues still to liue vnknowne, and blind within.


The honest seruant seekes t'amend his Lord,
And grieus to heare his wants thēselues shuld speak,
But the base slaue, doth fearefully afford,
A jearing flattery with count'nance bleake
To euery word; and therefore is regarded,
When Truth is with suspect and hate rewarded.
Base flattery, and double dilligence,
That thrusts their fingers into euery place,
That carries tales, and giues intelligence,
Of all that may their fellowes faith disgrace.
These are imploy'd, these come and go at pleasure,
Haue what they aske, and aske without all measure.


He that can these, shal thriue, and may in time,
Purchase large Lordships with ill gotten wealth,
And may from Yeomanry to worship clime,
Ill fare that Gentry so purloynd with stealth.)
But other neuer may expect to rise,
For to their deeds he turnes his Argus eyes.
And doth perswade his Lord, that his whole care,
Is like a trusty Seruant, for the best,
His yonger sonne the better for't shall fare,
For at his death all shall to him be left.
The credulous Lord beleeues his smoth conclusion,
Vntill too late he prooues it an illusion.


But when the trustie seruant stands aloofe,
Fore-warning these euents with modestie:
Exampling this with many likely proofes,
Of others craft, and close hypocrisie.
He is suspected of deceite, his drift
Thought a detractors fauour-fauning shift.
Fond youth, who dedicates thy pretious houres,
To do him seruice that neglects thy meritt:
And priseth lesse the mindes vnualued powers,
Then his, who only doth rude strength inheritt.
Fond youth that bind'st thy selfe to be a slaue,
To him whose loue thy seruice cannot haue.


O why should I aime all my thoughts to please
One like my selfe; or to subiect my soule
Vnto the vnrespectiue rule of these
That onely know how others to controule.
So Asses suffer, Asses spur and ride them,
So camels kneeld, whilst bondmē do bestride them.
But man that is freeborne, not borne a beast,
Should freely beare himselfe, and freely loue;
Where reason doth induce him: or at least
Where Sympathy of liking equall moue.
So I could loue, and feare, obay, and serue
Him, that I see doth see what I deserue.


For what auailes it me to know so much,
If other wil no notice take thereof,
Or cannot well discerne me to be such,
As I do know my selfe, and yet will scoffe
At that they vnderstand not, and suppose,
“Not smelling, there's no sweetnes in a rose?
What boots it me to clime the starry Tower,
And fetch from thence all secrets that remaine,
Within that euerlasting blissefull Bower,
If I had none to tell them to againe.
The soule would glut hirselfe with heauen I know,
If she might not hir ioyes to others show.


It is a crowne vnto a gentle brest,
T'imparte the pleasure of his flowing minde;
(Whose spritely motion neuer taketh rest,)
To one whose bosome he doth open find.
So wise Promethius stealing heauenly fire,
In stones, the soule of knowledge did inspire.
O how I (least in knowledge, and in Art,)
Admire and loue an vnderstanding spirit,
And share with him my poore deuided hart,
Wishing his fortunes equall to his merit.
But since in seruice few of these I find,
Seruice dislikes my male-contented mind.
Cum omnis est misera seruitus, tum vero intolerabile est seruire impuro, impudico, effeminato, insulso.