[Ariostos seven planets governing Italie or his satyrs] [by Robert Tofte] |
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| 2. | THE SECOND SATYRE OF Ariosto. |
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 | [Ariostos seven planets governing Italie or his satyrs] |  |
13
THE SECOND SATYRE OF Ariosto.
The Argvment.
He sheweth in his owne person that nature is contented with little, and how much a man should esteeme of his liberty. The troublesome life of Church-men, & the great miseries wherin those of the Court of Rome liue.
To his Reuerend Brother G. A.
Sith mine affaires, not my desires, become
The causes why I goe to visite Rome,
When Card'nals change their skins like to the Snake,
And for their god do better choices make:
Now when no dangerous sicknesses abound,
To infect mens bodies that are weake or sound;
Although a greater plague afflicts their mindes,
Whilst that same wheele or Rota turnes and winds:
O not that wheele, which doth Ixion scourge,
But that which doth in Rome so shrewdly purge
Mens purses; whil'st through long and vile delaies,
Lawyers on them (As fowle on carion) praies:
The causes why I goe to visite Rome,
When Card'nals change their skins like to the Snake,
And for their god do better choices make:
Now when no dangerous sicknesses abound,
To infect mens bodies that are weake or sound;
Although a greater plague afflicts their mindes,
Whilst that same wheele or Rota turnes and winds:
O not that wheele, which doth Ixion scourge,
But that which doth in Rome so shrewdly purge
Mens purses; whil'st through long and vile delaies,
Lawyers on them (As fowle on carion) praies:
Gallasso pray thee take for me (not far
From that same place where thy cōmercements are,
I meane neare to that sumptuous Temple braue,
Which ancient Fathers that stout Priests name gaue,
Who Malchas eare from off his head did cleaue,
And more had done might he haue had but leaue)
A lodging for foure beasts: by which I meane,
Account me with my man (old Iohn) for twaine.
The other two a Moile and Gelding is,
A tyred iade, that all his teeth doth misse.
Let it be lightsome, but not mounting hie,
I cannot brooke this climbing to the skie.
A chimney let it haue that will not smoake,
For such perfumes doe both me blind and choake.
Of our poore iades, thou likewise must take care,
For should their prouender be scant or bare,
Little the stables warmth would them auaile,
And in my iourney I should hap to faile.
My bed and bedding of the best I craue,
That so my rest might sweeter quiet haue.
The matter cotton of fine wooll and thinne,
By no meanes let it be within an Inne.
My wood to burne, I would haue old and dry,
That it might dresse my meate conueniently.
A bit of Mutton, Beefe, or Lambe, or Veale,
For me and for my man doth full auaile.
No curious Kitchin cooke I doe desire,
With sauce to set mine appetite on fire:
Making me haue a stomacke gainst my will,
Or being full haue still desire to fill.
Let those proud curious Artists vse their braine,
To keepe their pots and vessels siluer cleane,
And tend on Ladies, or for recompence
Striue to content Vorranos glutton sense:
Whilest I with a poore Scullion am content,
And being cleanly, thinke him excellent.
He that by eating, seekes still how to eate,
And makes not hunger sauce vnto his meate,
Let him goe cast his vomit farre from me,
Ile neither hold his rule nor company.
Cookes now on euery vpstart fellow waite,
Who but ere while did Cheese and Onions eate,
And in a russet frocke was glad to keepe,
On barren hils his masters flocks of sheepe;
But now (this Bore) growne rich by fortunes grace,
Shames euen to heare of his first fortunes place.
His Pheasants, Larks, and Black-birds haue he must,
Who erst was glad to leape euen at a crust:
Alwaies to feede vpon one dish of meate,
Doth cloy his stomacke, and he cannot eate.
He now the wild Bores taste doth truly know,
Which vp and downe the drier mountaines goe,
From th' other which rich Elizean fields,
(Fatned) vnto the Roman market yeelds.
I seeke no water from the fountaines cleare,
But that which comes from Tyber, and is neare,
So it be setled well and very pure;
For troubled waters hardly I endure:
For wine it skils not, yet good wine I loue,
And mixt with water many times doe proue.
(Though very little) and the Tauerne still,
Will yeeld as much or little as I will.
The wines which grow vpon the marrish brinke,
Vnlesse delayed, much I neuer drinke.
The stronger wine my braine doth make the worse,
Offends my stomacke, and my voice makes hoarse.
What then will these do, which are drunke with you?
I doubt the proofe I shall but finde too true.
The Corsicke wines, and those of faithlesse Greece,
Nor the Lygurian, though all of one peece,
Are not so vile as these: these are so strong,
That to the best conceits they doe much wrong.
The Fryer that in his study priuate sits,
Is with this liquor thrust out of his wits,
The whilest with expectation and much doubt,
The wondring people gaze and looke about.
When he the Gospels blessed truth should show;
Who comes no sooner forth, but vp doth goe
Into the Pulpit with a fiery grace,
A red-rose cheeke, and a distemperd face:
Making a noise with violence of passion.
And swearing out the scriptures in strange fashion,
Threatning with iudgments and such damned Fate,
That all his audience he makes desperate.
From that same place where thy cōmercements are,
I meane neare to that sumptuous Temple braue,
Which ancient Fathers that stout Priests name gaue,
14
And more had done might he haue had but leaue)
A lodging for foure beasts: by which I meane,
Account me with my man (old Iohn) for twaine.
The other two a Moile and Gelding is,
A tyred iade, that all his teeth doth misse.
Let it be lightsome, but not mounting hie,
I cannot brooke this climbing to the skie.
A chimney let it haue that will not smoake,
For such perfumes doe both me blind and choake.
Of our poore iades, thou likewise must take care,
For should their prouender be scant or bare,
Little the stables warmth would them auaile,
And in my iourney I should hap to faile.
My bed and bedding of the best I craue,
That so my rest might sweeter quiet haue.
The matter cotton of fine wooll and thinne,
By no meanes let it be within an Inne.
My wood to burne, I would haue old and dry,
That it might dresse my meate conueniently.
A bit of Mutton, Beefe, or Lambe, or Veale,
For me and for my man doth full auaile.
No curious Kitchin cooke I doe desire,
With sauce to set mine appetite on fire:
Making me haue a stomacke gainst my will,
Or being full haue still desire to fill.
Let those proud curious Artists vse their braine,
To keepe their pots and vessels siluer cleane,
And tend on Ladies, or for recompence
Striue to content Vorranos glutton sense:
Whilest I with a poore Scullion am content,
And being cleanly, thinke him excellent.
He that by eating, seekes still how to eate,
And makes not hunger sauce vnto his meate,
Let him goe cast his vomit farre from me,
Ile neither hold his rule nor company.
Cookes now on euery vpstart fellow waite,
Who but ere while did Cheese and Onions eate,
15
On barren hils his masters flocks of sheepe;
But now (this Bore) growne rich by fortunes grace,
Shames euen to heare of his first fortunes place.
His Pheasants, Larks, and Black-birds haue he must,
Who erst was glad to leape euen at a crust:
Alwaies to feede vpon one dish of meate,
Doth cloy his stomacke, and he cannot eate.
He now the wild Bores taste doth truly know,
Which vp and downe the drier mountaines goe,
From th' other which rich Elizean fields,
(Fatned) vnto the Roman market yeelds.
I seeke no water from the fountaines cleare,
But that which comes from Tyber, and is neare,
So it be setled well and very pure;
For troubled waters hardly I endure:
For wine it skils not, yet good wine I loue,
And mixt with water many times doe proue.
(Though very little) and the Tauerne still,
Will yeeld as much or little as I will.
The wines which grow vpon the marrish brinke,
Vnlesse delayed, much I neuer drinke.
The stronger wine my braine doth make the worse,
Offends my stomacke, and my voice makes hoarse.
What then will these do, which are drunke with you?
I doubt the proofe I shall but finde too true.
The Corsicke wines, and those of faithlesse Greece,
Nor the Lygurian, though all of one peece,
Are not so vile as these: these are so strong,
That to the best conceits they doe much wrong.
The Fryer that in his study priuate sits,
Is with this liquor thrust out of his wits,
The whilest with expectation and much doubt,
The wondring people gaze and looke about.
When he the Gospels blessed truth should show;
Who comes no sooner forth, but vp doth goe
Into the Pulpit with a fiery grace,
A red-rose cheeke, and a distemperd face:
16
And swearing out the scriptures in strange fashion,
Threatning with iudgments and such damned Fate,
That all his audience he makes desperate.
This also troubleth Messier Moskins head,
Whilest he is caried drunke vnto his bed,
And Frier Gnaling with his company,
Faining to hate Vernachia mightily:
Who once but got out of their cloyster doore,
Whilest he is caried drunke vnto his bed,
And Frier Gnaling with his company,
Faining to hate Vernachia mightily:
Who once but got out of their cloyster doore,
To th' Gorgon or the Aethiopian More
They go, and there Pidgeons and Capons fat,
They eate vntill they breathe and sweat thereat:
So likewise vse they, when as all alone,
They forth from their Refectory are gone.
Prouide mee bookes to passe those houres away,
In which Romes Prelates onely feed and play.
Who once at board, they giue a strait command,
None enter at their gates in any hand:
As Friers doe vse, who bout the mid of day,
They go, and there Pidgeons and Capons fat,
They eate vntill they breathe and sweat thereat:
So likewise vse they, when as all alone,
They forth from their Refectory are gone.
Prouide mee bookes to passe those houres away,
In which Romes Prelates onely feed and play.
Who once at board, they giue a strait command,
None enter at their gates in any hand:
As Friers doe vse, who bout the mid of day,
(Although your ring the bell, cry loud, or pray)
Yet once set at the table, they'le not moue,
Were it to gaine more then a Princes loue.
My Lord Ile say (for brother is to base,
Since Spanish complement troke plainnesse place,
And Sr. is sent to euery bawdy house,
Tis now so common and ridiculous:
Signior Ile terme the basest Rascall now,
And making curtsie low vnto him bow)
For Gods sake pray your reuerend Lord to daine
To lend his eare whilst I of wrongs complaine.
Yet once set at the table, they'le not moue,
Were it to gaine more then a Princes loue.
My Lord Ile say (for brother is to base,
Since Spanish complement troke plainnesse place,
And Sr. is sent to euery bawdy house,
Tis now so common and ridiculous:
Signior Ile terme the basest Rascall now,
And making curtsie low vnto him bow)
For Gods sake pray your reuerend Lord to daine
To lend his eare whilst I of wrongs complaine.
Agora non se puede, will he say,
Et megiore, (good sir) to go your way.
E vos torneis a la magnana. Then
If you reply vpon him fresh agen,
And say; yet let me trouble you once more,
Tell him I doe attend him at the doore:
Then surly Cerberus growes Peacocke proud,
And this rough answere thunders forth aloud.
I tell thee friend, my Lord is at repose,
And will not troubled be with suters woes:
He will not speake with Peter, Paul, nor Iohn,
Nor heare the embassie of any one:
Et megiore, (good sir) to go your way.
E vos torneis a la magnana. Then
If you reply vpon him fresh agen,
And say; yet let me trouble you once more,
Tell him I doe attend him at the doore:
Then surly Cerberus growes Peacocke proud,
And this rough answere thunders forth aloud.
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And will not troubled be with suters woes:
He will not speake with Peter, Paul, nor Iohn,
Nor heare the embassie of any one:
No though his master Nazareth were here,
He would not daine to moue out of his chaire.
And therefore thou nor manners hast nor shame,
Thy suites at such vnfitting times to frame.
But had I Linx his eyes on them to pry,
As with my mindes eyes I them full espy,
Or were they but transparent like to glasse,
That through their inmost thoughts my sight might passe:
Such deedes I then (perhaps) should see them act
Within their priuy chambers: that the fact
Would giue them iuster cause themselues to hide
From heauens Sun, then any man beside.
But they in time I hope will quite forsake
This loathed life, and better vertues take.
This as an Item is to their transgression,
To shew I wish and pray for their conuersion.
But sure I am, thou longst to know why I
Desire to visite Rome thus speedily.
He would not daine to moue out of his chaire.
And therefore thou nor manners hast nor shame,
Thy suites at such vnfitting times to frame.
But had I Linx his eyes on them to pry,
As with my mindes eyes I them full espy,
Or were they but transparent like to glasse,
That through their inmost thoughts my sight might passe:
Such deedes I then (perhaps) should see them act
Within their priuy chambers: that the fact
Would giue them iuster cause themselues to hide
From heauens Sun, then any man beside.
But they in time I hope will quite forsake
This loathed life, and better vertues take.
This as an Item is to their transgression,
To shew I wish and pray for their conuersion.
But sure I am, thou longst to know why I
Desire to visite Rome thus speedily.
Well I will tell thee: Tis because I seeke
A liuing small by patent safe to keepe:
An office tis, which I in Millan hold,
(Although but small) yet more then lose I would:
A liuing small by patent safe to keepe:
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(Although but small) yet more then lose I would:
And to prouide Saint Agaps parsonage,
I might possesse, if th' old Priest worne with age,
And much expence of time, should hap to die,
During the time, my fortunes there should lie.
Thou wilt suppose I run into the net,
Which I was wont to say, the diuell did set
To catch those fooles, whose ouer burning hearts
Swallowes their makers bloud without desarts:
But tis not so, my thoughts did ne're agree,
To loue this cure or callings soueraginty:
My meaning is, the liuing to bestow
On such a one as mine owne thoughts do know
Fit for the same, for his liues grauity,
His learning, manners, vertue, honesty.
I might possesse, if th' old Priest worne with age,
And much expence of time, should hap to die,
During the time, my fortunes there should lie.
Thou wilt suppose I run into the net,
Which I was wont to say, the diuell did set
To catch those fooles, whose ouer burning hearts
Swallowes their makers bloud without desarts:
But tis not so, my thoughts did ne're agree,
To loue this cure or callings soueraginty:
My meaning is, the liuing to bestow
On such a one as mine owne thoughts do know
Fit for the same, for his liues grauity,
His learning, manners, vertue, honesty.
To be a sacred Priest I will not proue,
Cope, Rochet, Surplice, nor a Stole I loue:
Nor will I haue a shau'd annointed crowne,
Or weare the ring which bishops do renowne.
In vaine I goe about to take a wife,
If I should aime at a religious life:
Or hauing taken one but to suppose,
That for the Church t'were fit my wife to lose:
But both these callings are of such desart,
That all be I adore them in my heart:
Yet when I thinke how full they are of care,
Of neither (with resolue) I venture dare.
Priest-hood and mariage, who so doth obtaine,
Saue but by death, no freedome can attaine.
But here (perhaps) thou maiest demaund of me,
My reasons fault and insufficiency:
Wherefore so great a burthen I do take,
And instantly the same away do shake,
Seeking to giue mine honours to another.
Well; though thy selfe, my friends and euery other,
Shall blame, nay hate me, sith I doe let goe,
And will not take my fortunes when they floe;
Yea since at bounties hands Ile not accept
The gifts of greatnesse, but doe all neglect;
To shriue my soule to thee, and shew the cause,
Which me to such a course of folly drawes:
Cope, Rochet, Surplice, nor a Stole I loue:
Nor will I haue a shau'd annointed crowne,
Or weare the ring which bishops do renowne.
In vaine I goe about to take a wife,
If I should aime at a religious life:
Or hauing taken one but to suppose,
That for the Church t'were fit my wife to lose:
But both these callings are of such desart,
That all be I adore them in my heart:
Yet when I thinke how full they are of care,
Of neither (with resolue) I venture dare.
Priest-hood and mariage, who so doth obtaine,
Saue but by death, no freedome can attaine.
But here (perhaps) thou maiest demaund of me,
My reasons fault and insufficiency:
Wherefore so great a burthen I do take,
And instantly the same away do shake,
Seeking to giue mine honours to another.
Well; though thy selfe, my friends and euery other,
Shall blame, nay hate me, sith I doe let goe,
And will not take my fortunes when they floe;
19
The gifts of greatnesse, but doe all neglect;
To shriue my soule to thee, and shew the cause,
Which me to such a course of folly drawes:
Tis thus. The old Priest hauing vnderstood,
By the best friends both to his age and bloud;
That vnder hand his death was closely wrought,
By one that for his holy liuing sought;
Fearing by poyson to be made away,
He sends for me, and humbly doth me pray:
That I into the open Court would come,
And there take resignation of his roome:
Thinking this meanes to be the onely best,
By which his life might in most safety rest.
I thankt him for it, yet did all I could,
That he to thee or Alexander would,
(Whose nature in no opposition stands,
With holy Orders or with holy hands)
His right and interest passe; but't would not be,
Nor to my motions would his sense agree.
Nor you, nor his owne kindred would he trust,
But (like himselfe) thought all men were vniust:
Onely my selfe aboue a world he chose,
And on my faith did all his trust repose:
But when I saw from him I could not haue it
To doe you good; vnto a third I gaue it.
Many, I know, will me condemne therein,
Sith (carelesse) I refuse such good to winne.
The rather, sith preferment in it is,
Whose pathes who treads can neuer honour misse.
By the best friends both to his age and bloud;
That vnder hand his death was closely wrought,
By one that for his holy liuing sought;
Fearing by poyson to be made away,
He sends for me, and humbly doth me pray:
That I into the open Court would come,
And there take resignation of his roome:
Thinking this meanes to be the onely best,
By which his life might in most safety rest.
I thankt him for it, yet did all I could,
That he to thee or Alexander would,
(Whose nature in no opposition stands,
With holy Orders or with holy hands)
His right and interest passe; but't would not be,
Nor to my motions would his sense agree.
Nor you, nor his owne kindred would he trust,
But (like himselfe) thought all men were vniust:
Onely my selfe aboue a world he chose,
And on my faith did all his trust repose:
But when I saw from him I could not haue it
To doe you good; vnto a third I gaue it.
Many, I know, will me condemne therein,
Sith (carelesse) I refuse such good to winne.
The rather, sith preferment in it is,
Whose pathes who treads can neuer honour misse.
Those poore religious wormes, scarce profitable,
Simple, vnlearned, weake, vnfit, vnable,
Base and despis'd, contemd of greatest part,
Haue got on best deserts so much the start,
As greatest kings are glad they may adore them,
And blest is he that most may fall before them.
But who so holy or so wise hath beene,
As in his life no fortune hath o'reseene?
Either in little or in much I know,
There's none that can himselfe so perfit show,
Each man his humor hath; and this is mine,
Before I will my liberty resigne,
The richest hat in Rome I would refuse,
Though King or Cardinall they should me chuse.
What good to me is got by highest place,
Or at the Table to receiue most grace?
If thence I rise no better satisfi'd,
Then he which in the meanest roome doth bide:
So though my head with waight downe burdned be,
Of Miters stor'd with pretious Iewelrie,
What doth it me auaile, if for all this
True ioy and quietnesse of minde I misse?
Let others thinke it a beatitude,
That they are sought vnto, obseru'd and su'd,
That armies of attendants doe them grace,
Treading their steps through euery publike place,
Whilst all the people with astonisht eyes,
Stare to behold their flattred Maiesties:
Yet I suppose them idle vanities,
Yea worse, euen worst of earthly miseries.
I am so foolish mad, that oft I say,
In brothell Rome the Lord is euery way
More slaue then is his slaue, man to his man;
And tis most true, deny it who so can.
The bondage wherein Seruing-men doe stand,
Is bare-head to obey each slight command,
To runne or ride with him; which once expir'd,
There nothing else is at his hands required.
This being done, he may goe where he please,
Frolicke or game, reuell, or rest at ease.
Only his care is, that at euery leasure,
He cannot see his wench, or haue that pleasure.
Else as he list, he may goe sport about,
Either with company, or else without,
On foote or horse-backe (if he money haue)
Be ciuill, or else swagger like a knaue.
In Market, in the Tauerne, in Th' exchange,
Or in the brothell if he lift to range.
Clothes he may weare of colours light or darke,
Goe as he please; he is not enuies marke,
None take exception gainst him, he may goe
Naked, if naked he himselfe will show;
Whereas his Lord (because he will haue place,
To suite his ranke, and giue his glories grace)
Doth leaue the safer seate, and though he gaine
More honor, yet doth lesser wealth retaine.
With profit lesse, and yet with greater charge,
He steares the helme in vaine expences barge.
Many he feedes, sith many on him tend,
Though his reuenues are but small to spend:
For count his first fruits with his bribes and all,
Many yeares profits doe to ruine fall.
Adde vnto this, how he in debt doth stand,
For furnishing his house at second hand:
His gifts to Courtiers (but in courtesie)
Chiefly to that great Patron Simonie,
Who is his chiefest Saint and Aduocate,
Because he best doth know his purses state.
But all the sport is, when his Holynesse
Sends to imploy him in some seriousnesse:
O then, if any of his followers misse,
He cannot goe, the way forbidden is.
If that his Coach be not in sight at hand,
Or if his Moiles doe not most ready stand,
If any thing be orderlesse displac't,
He rages straight, his honor is disgrac't:
If one rude wrinckle in his gowne be found,
Tis to his place more then a deadly wound:
His seruants must in comly equipage,
March two and two according to their age:
When if the basest groome in all his traine,
His very Scullion but behinde remaine,
He sweares as though he gaue the world this touch,
That hee's diuine, he nameth God so much.
Out doth he cry, he is discredited,
If by such slaues he be not followed.
On no Euangelist he now doth looke,
(Good man) his age cannot endure his booke.
Onely he doth deuise how he may spend
Little; and how his liuing he may mend:
To drawe the bowe too far breakes it in twaine,
And thrifty sparing is the Lord of gaine.
I will not say but diuers there may be,
That haue both offices and lands in see.
Who liue at hearts ease far beyond the best,
Free from disturbance, tumult or vnrest:
Nor horse, nor beast, nor man he scarcely keepes,
Whilst with a full purse he securely sleepes:
But there are few of those; for in these dayes,
He's blest that liues content with his owne ease.
Now he that's plum'd with sterne ambitions wings,
And vp to heauen his cogitations flings,
He neuer with his owne estate is pleased,
But shapes new scales by which hee will bee raised;
From Bishop straight he hath a wishfull hope
To climbe to be the second next the Pope:
When he hath that got, will he then be quiet?
No, for his stomacke must haue choicer diet.
He now aimes at the seate Pontificall,
To tread on Kings, on Emperours and all;
But when he hath obtain'd this blessed chaire,
Will he be pleased then and free from care?
Neither: for now his children and his friends
To places of great honour he commends;
When he was poore he scarce was knowne to any,
Now being Pope he is a kinne to many:
Yet from the Epirots nor from the Greeke,
To giue them kingomes doth he euer seeke,
Neither of Affricke nor of Barbary
Plotteth to giue them any soueraignty;
Nor will he striue to pull the Pagans downe,
And to impale his kinsmen with their crowne;
To purchase which all Europe is at hand,
Furnisht with men and money at command,
Whilst he but acts what doth to him belong,
Weakning the Turkes, making the Christians strong.
He rather seekes by treachery and by art,
The Noble Colonessi to subuert,
Or to extirpe Vrsinos princely name,
Simple, vnlearned, weake, vnfit, vnable,
Base and despis'd, contemd of greatest part,
Haue got on best deserts so much the start,
As greatest kings are glad they may adore them,
And blest is he that most may fall before them.
But who so holy or so wise hath beene,
As in his life no fortune hath o'reseene?
20
There's none that can himselfe so perfit show,
Each man his humor hath; and this is mine,
Before I will my liberty resigne,
The richest hat in Rome I would refuse,
Though King or Cardinall they should me chuse.
What good to me is got by highest place,
Or at the Table to receiue most grace?
If thence I rise no better satisfi'd,
Then he which in the meanest roome doth bide:
So though my head with waight downe burdned be,
Of Miters stor'd with pretious Iewelrie,
What doth it me auaile, if for all this
True ioy and quietnesse of minde I misse?
Let others thinke it a beatitude,
That they are sought vnto, obseru'd and su'd,
That armies of attendants doe them grace,
Treading their steps through euery publike place,
Whilst all the people with astonisht eyes,
Stare to behold their flattred Maiesties:
Yet I suppose them idle vanities,
Yea worse, euen worst of earthly miseries.
I am so foolish mad, that oft I say,
In brothell Rome the Lord is euery way
More slaue then is his slaue, man to his man;
And tis most true, deny it who so can.
The bondage wherein Seruing-men doe stand,
Is bare-head to obey each slight command,
To runne or ride with him; which once expir'd,
There nothing else is at his hands required.
This being done, he may goe where he please,
Frolicke or game, reuell, or rest at ease.
Only his care is, that at euery leasure,
He cannot see his wench, or haue that pleasure.
Else as he list, he may goe sport about,
Either with company, or else without,
On foote or horse-backe (if he money haue)
Be ciuill, or else swagger like a knaue.
21
Or in the brothell if he lift to range.
Clothes he may weare of colours light or darke,
Goe as he please; he is not enuies marke,
None take exception gainst him, he may goe
Naked, if naked he himselfe will show;
Whereas his Lord (because he will haue place,
To suite his ranke, and giue his glories grace)
Doth leaue the safer seate, and though he gaine
More honor, yet doth lesser wealth retaine.
With profit lesse, and yet with greater charge,
He steares the helme in vaine expences barge.
Many he feedes, sith many on him tend,
Though his reuenues are but small to spend:
For count his first fruits with his bribes and all,
Many yeares profits doe to ruine fall.
Adde vnto this, how he in debt doth stand,
For furnishing his house at second hand:
His gifts to Courtiers (but in courtesie)
Chiefly to that great Patron Simonie,
Who is his chiefest Saint and Aduocate,
Because he best doth know his purses state.
But all the sport is, when his Holynesse
Sends to imploy him in some seriousnesse:
O then, if any of his followers misse,
He cannot goe, the way forbidden is.
If that his Coach be not in sight at hand,
Or if his Moiles doe not most ready stand,
If any thing be orderlesse displac't,
He rages straight, his honor is disgrac't:
If one rude wrinckle in his gowne be found,
Tis to his place more then a deadly wound:
His seruants must in comly equipage,
March two and two according to their age:
When if the basest groome in all his traine,
His very Scullion but behinde remaine,
He sweares as though he gaue the world this touch,
That hee's diuine, he nameth God so much.
22
If by such slaues he be not followed.
On no Euangelist he now doth looke,
(Good man) his age cannot endure his booke.
Onely he doth deuise how he may spend
Little; and how his liuing he may mend:
To drawe the bowe too far breakes it in twaine,
And thrifty sparing is the Lord of gaine.
I will not say but diuers there may be,
That haue both offices and lands in see.
Who liue at hearts ease far beyond the best,
Free from disturbance, tumult or vnrest:
Nor horse, nor beast, nor man he scarcely keepes,
Whilst with a full purse he securely sleepes:
But there are few of those; for in these dayes,
He's blest that liues content with his owne ease.
Now he that's plum'd with sterne ambitions wings,
And vp to heauen his cogitations flings,
He neuer with his owne estate is pleased,
But shapes new scales by which hee will bee raised;
From Bishop straight he hath a wishfull hope
To climbe to be the second next the Pope:
When he hath that got, will he then be quiet?
No, for his stomacke must haue choicer diet.
He now aimes at the seate Pontificall,
To tread on Kings, on Emperours and all;
But when he hath obtain'd this blessed chaire,
Will he be pleased then and free from care?
Neither: for now his children and his friends
To places of great honour he commends;
When he was poore he scarce was knowne to any,
Now being Pope he is a kinne to many:
Yet from the Epirots nor from the Greeke,
To giue them kingomes doth he euer seeke,
Neither of Affricke nor of Barbary
Plotteth to giue them any soueraignty;
Nor will he striue to pull the Pagans downe,
And to impale his kinsmen with their crowne;
23
Furnisht with men and money at command,
Whilst he but acts what doth to him belong,
Weakning the Turkes, making the Christians strong.
He rather seekes by treachery and by art,
The Noble Colonessi to subuert,
Or to extirpe Vrsinos princely name,
To gaine all Talliacorzos worthy fame;
As from the other he got Palestine,
By royall policy surnam'd diuine:
Whilst in the meane time drunk with Christiā bloud,
He sits and triumphs in his ample good;
Some he sees strangled, some their heads doe lose,
And euery thing quite topsie turuy goes.
Nor will he sticke to giue all Italy,
A prey to France, to Spaine or Germany;
And making a confusion of each thing,
As from the other he got Palestine,
By royall policy surnam'd diuine:
Whilst in the meane time drunk with Christiā bloud,
He sits and triumphs in his ample good;
Some he sees strangled, some their heads doe lose,
And euery thing quite topsie turuy goes.
Nor will he sticke to giue all Italy,
A prey to France, to Spaine or Germany;
And making a confusion of each thing,
It shall goe hard but one halfe he will wring
Vnto his bastard bloud; nor doth hee care
Tho th' other part fall to the Diuels share.
Then flies abroad excommunications,
Like vollies of great shot, in strangest fashions:
Then roares the bulles worse then the Basan host,
Whilst Belles and bookes and candles curses boast.
Hence indulgence and pardons haue beene found,
To be of warres the instruments and ground.
Vnto his bastard bloud; nor doth hee care
Tho th' other part fall to the Diuels share.
Then flies abroad excommunications,
Like vollies of great shot, in strangest fashions:
Then roares the bulles worse then the Basan host,
Whilst Belles and bookes and candles curses boast.
Hence indulgence and pardons haue beene found,
To be of warres the instruments and ground.
From hence with gold the bearded Muffe is prest,
Of all his valours power to show the best,
And hence the drunken Dutchman who for pay,
Is hir'd in right or wrong, or any way:
These must haue gold (without which thei'le not fight,
And all this charge doth on the subiect light,
Oft haue I heard (and doe beleeue the same)
By those which know the truth of euery fame:
That neither Bishop, no nor Cardinall,
Nor yet the Pope, who is the head of all,
Had euer money to supply their want,
But that the end grew niggardly and scant.
But let this goe; times now are at such passe,
That though one be a foole, a dolt, an Asse,
Base of conditions, and (if't may be) worse,
Yet if he haue a well fild heauy purse
He may doe what he list, nor neede he care
What others of his actions shall declare:
Yet those which hoard most, and haue most to giue,
Most commonly most wretchedly doe liue.
Witnesse the starued houshold, who with griefe
Complaine their ruines, yet find no reliefe.
The more the wealthy witty courtier holds,
The lesse vnto the worlds eye he vnfolds.
Of foure parts of his liuing, three he will
Be sure (all charges borne) to coffer still.
Of all his valours power to show the best,
And hence the drunken Dutchman who for pay,
Is hir'd in right or wrong, or any way:
These must haue gold (without which thei'le not fight,
And all this charge doth on the subiect light,
Oft haue I heard (and doe beleeue the same)
By those which know the truth of euery fame:
That neither Bishop, no nor Cardinall,
Nor yet the Pope, who is the head of all,
Had euer money to supply their want,
But that the end grew niggardly and scant.
24
That though one be a foole, a dolt, an Asse,
Base of conditions, and (if't may be) worse,
Yet if he haue a well fild heauy purse
He may doe what he list, nor neede he care
What others of his actions shall declare:
Yet those which hoard most, and haue most to giue,
Most commonly most wretchedly doe liue.
Witnesse the starued houshold, who with griefe
Complaine their ruines, yet find no reliefe.
The more the wealthy witty courtier holds,
The lesse vnto the worlds eye he vnfolds.
Of foure parts of his liuing, three he will
Be sure (all charges borne) to coffer still.
A mans allowance or of bread or biefe,
Is halfe a pound of either for reliefe:
And that (God's knowes) is either tough or crusty,
Or hardly mans meate, being old and musty.
Now as his bread and flesh is of worst sort,
So thinke his drinke deserues as vile report;
Either it is like vinegar most tarte,
Or Rasor-like it makes the pallat smart;
Either in tast or relish tis so small,
That it hath lost both colour, strength and all:
Or to be briefe in ilnes tis beyond
The pudle water or the stinking pond.
Is halfe a pound of either for reliefe:
And that (God's knowes) is either tough or crusty,
Or hardly mans meate, being old and musty.
Now as his bread and flesh is of worst sort,
So thinke his drinke deserues as vile report;
Either it is like vinegar most tarte,
Or Rasor-like it makes the pallat smart;
Either in tast or relish tis so small,
That it hath lost both colour, strength and all:
Or to be briefe in ilnes tis beyond
The pudle water or the stinking pond.
Yet had a man sufficiency of foode,
And at his pleasure drinke to doe him good:
Though they were homely and indifferent,
His griefe were lesse, and time much better spent:
But both being bad, and of that bad no store,
Needes must the heart breake, or else couet more.
But thou wilt say, a seruant that is wise,
Will beare with this and smoothly temporise,
Because that scale which raiseth vp his Lord,
Doth some aduancement to himselfe affoord;
And as the master mounts the man shall rise,
If with discretion he his wrongs disguise.
But such like fortunes are not generall,
For they like blazing comets seldome fall.
Honors change maners, new Lords makes new laws
And all their seruants to their purpose drawes.
Old seruants like old garments are cast by,
When new adorne them with more maiesty.
Seruice is no inheritance we know,
For he and beggery in one base rancke doe goe.
A chamberlaine, a steward, and a cater,
A secretary, a caruer, and a waiter,
Thy Lord must haue to beautifie his dayes,
When thine age can supply not one of these.
Then maiest thou thinke that thou art highly loued,
If from his seruice thou art not remoued:
Tis well for thee if thou canst find that grace,
To liue as thou hath done still in one place.
A liuery once a yeare, and nobles foure,
Is a braue price for seruing till foure score:
And then tis ten to one that beg thou must;
Therefore vnto thy selfe, not others trust.
How rightly spake that honest Mulitar,
When comming into Rome from regions far,
He in the euening heard as he did passe,
That his owne Lord for Pope elected was.
Ah (quoth the slaue) to speake vnpartiall,
Twas best with me when he was Cardinall:
My labour then was little or else none,
Hauing but to poore moiles to looke vpon.
Now shall my toyle be double or else more,
And yet my wages paid worse then before.
If any thinke because my Lord is Pope,
That I on great aduancements ground my hope,
Let him but giue me one chicken or lesse,
And all my reasures he shall full possesse.
No no, the wealthier that the maister proues,
So much the lesse his oldest slaues he loues.
And at his pleasure drinke to doe him good:
Though they were homely and indifferent,
His griefe were lesse, and time much better spent:
But both being bad, and of that bad no store,
Needes must the heart breake, or else couet more.
But thou wilt say, a seruant that is wise,
Will beare with this and smoothly temporise,
Because that scale which raiseth vp his Lord,
Doth some aduancement to himselfe affoord;
And as the master mounts the man shall rise,
If with discretion he his wrongs disguise.
25
For they like blazing comets seldome fall.
Honors change maners, new Lords makes new laws
And all their seruants to their purpose drawes.
Old seruants like old garments are cast by,
When new adorne them with more maiesty.
Seruice is no inheritance we know,
For he and beggery in one base rancke doe goe.
A chamberlaine, a steward, and a cater,
A secretary, a caruer, and a waiter,
Thy Lord must haue to beautifie his dayes,
When thine age can supply not one of these.
Then maiest thou thinke that thou art highly loued,
If from his seruice thou art not remoued:
Tis well for thee if thou canst find that grace,
To liue as thou hath done still in one place.
A liuery once a yeare, and nobles foure,
Is a braue price for seruing till foure score:
And then tis ten to one that beg thou must;
Therefore vnto thy selfe, not others trust.
How rightly spake that honest Mulitar,
When comming into Rome from regions far,
He in the euening heard as he did passe,
That his owne Lord for Pope elected was.
Ah (quoth the slaue) to speake vnpartiall,
Twas best with me when he was Cardinall:
My labour then was little or else none,
Hauing but to poore moiles to looke vpon.
Now shall my toyle be double or else more,
And yet my wages paid worse then before.
If any thinke because my Lord is Pope,
That I on great aduancements ground my hope,
Let him but giue me one chicken or lesse,
And all my reasures he shall full possesse.
No no, the wealthier that the maister proues,
So much the lesse his oldest slaues he loues.
In Naples where Nobility doth flowe,
(Though little wealth doth with their greatnes goe)
There was of good descent a pretty Lad,
That from his tender yeares still followed had
A Lordly caualier, who promis'd him
(As courtiers breathes can smoothly speake & trim)
That he no sooner should aduanced be,
To any place of worth or dignitie,
But that his page should rise as he did mount;
And for the youth had spent the first account
Of his liues glories, sith since he presumed
Vpon this hope, full thirtie yeares consumed;
His Lord now bids him be of merry cheare,
For nothing that he held should be too deare.
The honest seruant thinking all was gold
Shin'd in such words, himselfe content doth hold.
Now whilst the hungry master and the man,
Gaze to behold which way preferments ranne;
It hapt the Naples King (through some request)
Him of his priuy chamber did inuest.
No sooner was he in his wisht for roome,
But he forgot his ancient trusty groome;
And prided with his fate, now entertaines
New gallants with braue cloathes & better meanes:
His old true page was in obliuion throwne,
And nought saue nouelty was to him knowne.
Which he perceiuing, taking time and place,
Vnto his Lord he breakes his heauy case,
Humbly intreates him that he would remember
His honest seruice, and some merit render
To his expence of time, and wasted store,
As he with earnestnesse had vow'd before.
To whom the surly Neapolitan,
Taking him sharply vp, thus briefe began:
Fellow, the world is chang'd from that it was,
When I was scarce my selfe, then thou mights passe
And ranke with my dependants: but as now
Thou canst not doe it, nor may I allow
Thy basenesse so high place; sith it is fit,
My men be of more meanes, more doome, and wit,
Yet ne'rethelesse since thou hast seru'd me long,
And that I will not doe thy labours wrong,
Countnance, but no reward thou shalt possesse,
Sith thou art old, and euen seruicelesse.
The honest man being gald thus impiously,
Returnes his Lord (with griefe) this short reply:
Could I your best imploiments serue before,
When (saue my selfe) you kept no creature more?
And now that you haue many, may not I
My place with as great diligence supply?
Hath all my practise and experience
Brought me no wit, but tane away my sense?
Now when my paines expected their aduance,
Must my reward be nought but countenance?
Haue I consum'd my liues best floures with you,
My youth and man-hood, to reape this poore due?
But youle abandon me I doe perceiue:
Well, me you shall not, for tis you ile leaue.
Nor you, nor others, nor no time shall say,
You me dischargd. Loe I put you away.
“No greater plague can hang on seruitude,
“Then to be chaind to base ingratitude.
And here withall away poore soule he went,
Mourning his seruice, and his time mis-spent.
By this true storie wit may plainly see,
What seruants are, and what these Courtiers be.
“Youth spent in Court, oft brings age to poore state
“Past seruice, past reward; that's seruants fate.
I rather would be King of mine owne graue,
Then vnto greatest greatnesse be a slaue.
“To liue of others lendings is most base,
“In Court to dance attendance is disgrace.
I like not prison musicke, nor such mirth;
Free was I borne, free will I liue on earth.
“He is truly rich that hath sufficient,
“And hating enuy liueth with content.
Yet liberty exceedes the gaine of wealth,
And therefore I will only serue my selfe.
(Though little wealth doth with their greatnes goe)
26
That from his tender yeares still followed had
A Lordly caualier, who promis'd him
(As courtiers breathes can smoothly speake & trim)
That he no sooner should aduanced be,
To any place of worth or dignitie,
But that his page should rise as he did mount;
And for the youth had spent the first account
Of his liues glories, sith since he presumed
Vpon this hope, full thirtie yeares consumed;
His Lord now bids him be of merry cheare,
For nothing that he held should be too deare.
The honest seruant thinking all was gold
Shin'd in such words, himselfe content doth hold.
Now whilst the hungry master and the man,
Gaze to behold which way preferments ranne;
It hapt the Naples King (through some request)
Him of his priuy chamber did inuest.
No sooner was he in his wisht for roome,
But he forgot his ancient trusty groome;
And prided with his fate, now entertaines
New gallants with braue cloathes & better meanes:
His old true page was in obliuion throwne,
And nought saue nouelty was to him knowne.
Which he perceiuing, taking time and place,
Vnto his Lord he breakes his heauy case,
Humbly intreates him that he would remember
His honest seruice, and some merit render
To his expence of time, and wasted store,
As he with earnestnesse had vow'd before.
To whom the surly Neapolitan,
Taking him sharply vp, thus briefe began:
Fellow, the world is chang'd from that it was,
When I was scarce my selfe, then thou mights passe
And ranke with my dependants: but as now
Thou canst not doe it, nor may I allow
Thy basenesse so high place; sith it is fit,
My men be of more meanes, more doome, and wit,
27
And that I will not doe thy labours wrong,
Countnance, but no reward thou shalt possesse,
Sith thou art old, and euen seruicelesse.
The honest man being gald thus impiously,
Returnes his Lord (with griefe) this short reply:
Could I your best imploiments serue before,
When (saue my selfe) you kept no creature more?
And now that you haue many, may not I
My place with as great diligence supply?
Hath all my practise and experience
Brought me no wit, but tane away my sense?
Now when my paines expected their aduance,
Must my reward be nought but countenance?
Haue I consum'd my liues best floures with you,
My youth and man-hood, to reape this poore due?
But youle abandon me I doe perceiue:
Well, me you shall not, for tis you ile leaue.
Nor you, nor others, nor no time shall say,
You me dischargd. Loe I put you away.
“No greater plague can hang on seruitude,
“Then to be chaind to base ingratitude.
And here withall away poore soule he went,
Mourning his seruice, and his time mis-spent.
By this true storie wit may plainly see,
What seruants are, and what these Courtiers be.
“Youth spent in Court, oft brings age to poore state
“Past seruice, past reward; that's seruants fate.
I rather would be King of mine owne graue,
Then vnto greatest greatnesse be a slaue.
“To liue of others lendings is most base,
“In Court to dance attendance is disgrace.
I like not prison musicke, nor such mirth;
Free was I borne, free will I liue on earth.
“He is truly rich that hath sufficient,
“And hating enuy liueth with content.
Yet liberty exceedes the gaine of wealth,
And therefore I will only serue my selfe.
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