University of Virginia Library

Of holy husbandmen, and of the art we minde to sing,
That mortal minds doth til, & blinded brests to good doth bring,
What noisome plants out of ye harts corrupted thou shalt weed
Before that of the Gospell there thou sowste the ioyfull seed:
And howe the fieldes are to be drest, and eke the certaine way,
To keepe the seede in saftie, so as it doe not decay,
Nor that the prince of hell abrode the cockle fowle doe fling,
Or of the lewdnesse of the ground, or faultie soyle it spring.

Herein vnknowne to Poets olde, that long agone did write,
O Christ the perfite sonne of God, and fathers Image right,
Graunt me thine ayde: for wisedome all from thee alonely springs,
And worthie Poets through thy helpe, haue written worthie things.
Thine owne affayres are had in hand, of this so sacred paine,
Thou art the cause, for it belongs vnto thy heauenly raigne:
Thou sendes the husbandmen and art the plowmans chiefest ayde,
The blessed corne that springeth vp, shall in thy barnes be layde.

And you most worthie souereigne Lords, and chosen fathers graue,
That in this age aboue the rest, the chiefest honor haue,
For learning and religion pure, of Muses taking charge,
As Bern your Countrie doth declare, and all your Empire large.
For there true godlinesse is taught, and Christ and fayth withall,
And place assignde to vertuous wits, and studyes liberall.
You are not (as a great sort are) of Christ ashamde awhit,
That here amongst a thousand foes, in blinded world doth sit,
And calleth all men in the ende vnto his heauenly raigne,
Accept these simple verses here, and fauour this my paine.

At first the almightie father framde the worlde, and mortall kinde,
In perfite state, and yeelding fruite such as himselfe assignde,
Who wholy gaue themselues to him with all their force and might,
For first of all within their heartes, he sowde a knowledge right:
And gaue them reason to discerne in euery kinde of thing,
That in the foming seas, or ayre, or on the earth doth spring.
Thus when the passing force of his almightie name did shine,
He plaste in man a dreadfull feare, of his estate deuine.
Which least it caused fearefull flight, or stirde vp deadly hate,
He ioynde a pleasant loue withall of his excelling state:
Whereby the feare and reurence of his mightie Maiestee,
With felowship of feruent loue might safely guided bee.
For with himselfe he framed man, both Lorde of earth and seas,
And after death to liue with him in euerlasting ease:
Prouiding him to feede vpon the fruite of euery tree,
And pleasant hearbes, that so be might his carefull mercy see.
Who would not with his heart esteeme and loue with all his minde,
A Lorde so good and gracious, and of so gentle kinde?
Yet least that cause of feare should want, and fauour breede disdaine,
And to much welth inflame his heart, and prick his ydle braine:
He gaue him one commaundement, to barre him of his will,
That is, he should not taste the tree of knowing good or ill:
Except they would their life forgo, and lose these giftes of grace.
Besides all this he planted in the deepest of their minde,
That vnto other creatures to, of nature was assignde,
That they ne should with hate pursue their kinde, nor ouerthrow,
But with a friendly faythfull heart eche other friendship show,
And giue aduice what best to doe, and mischiefe how to let,
Such happie seedes in heart of man at first were deepely set,
By him that all thing here did frame, and thus he left this fielde
Of owne accorde, his pleasant fruites and good encrease to yeelde.

But streight the Stygyan Prince that late from skies was hedlong throwne
For prowd presuptuous mutenie & trespas earst vnknowne,
Both hating God himselfe aboue, and all his vertuous deedes,
Began to frowne and lowre on man, and on these pleasant seedes:
Determining these plantes pluckt vp, to sowe contrarie graine.
And taking on himselfe the shape and cloke of Serpent plaine,
Our father first he doth perswade, to breake the sacred hest,
That so he might both rare and pluck due feare from out his brest,
And cease the loue and certaine hope of Gods assistance knowne,
Whereby the ground disordred might with weedes be ouergrowne.
Ne faylde he of his purpose here, for why the womans hart
Consented streight to taste the fruite, and gaue hir husband part.
As ground that long hath lien vntilde, is filled euery where
With humblockes, thornes, and thistles sharpe, and other hurtfull gere:
So was the minde of man opprest with mischiefes fowle and great,
And harmefull things deseruing death, had there abiding seat.
The knowledge of th'almightie Lorde with darkenesse was disgraste,
Our iudgement eke in worldly things, with blindnesse great defaste.
Both feare and reuerence due to God, were banished cleane away,
Loue colde, and hope of helpe deuine did vtterly decay.
In place whereof sprang hate, and flight, contempt of God beside,
And nothing that was good or right, the will corrupt applide.
If any good desire by chaunce, of vertue mooues the minde,
The force doth streight begin to faile, in slouthfull bodie blinde:
And sinne prouokes to greater crime, not suffering them aright
To runne their race, but mooues agaynst the Lord both day and night.
Nor needefull is it much to mooue, for of his proper sway,
Like Lead he alwayes hedlong falles, and runnes the hurtfull way.
Doest thou not see how leauing God, his honour here we giue
To trifles vaine, and wretched men that on the earth doe liue?
If that a king that may to day, or else to morrow die,
Receyue vs into fauour great, and giue vs honour hie,
Or if of glistring golde we haue abundaunce in our handes,
Or haue our bagges with siluer full, to purchase Lordly landes,
Or Iewels great, or precious stones, or costly rich aray,
And friendes in number great about vs dwell and beare the sway,
Or store of lustie souldiors haue, to encounter with the fo:
O Lord how then we looke aloft, how stately then we go?
And thinke our selues in happie case, and blest on euery side,
How fowly doth our filth appeere, to him that all doth guide?
With most men for their God alone, the belly here is thought,
And euery thing as it commaundes, is eyther shund or sought.
Some place a loft on aulters hie the sharpnesse of their wit,
And some the bodyes force, and as a God they worship it.
But no man laboureth so the will of God for to obay,
As all men doe for trifles vaine, that fade and passe away.
Of Gods innumerable sort are found, by feare and loue,
And in the meane time he dispisde that reignes and rules aboue.
What mischiefe can be found, but doth from blinded ignorance spring?
Or what contempt of God? to sweare is thought a decent thing.
With Gods most dreadfull name aboue, both men and children play,
And diffrence none is made betwixt the lawes deuine, and lay.
What God commaundeth to be shund, or willeth to be wrought,
Is to the eares a torment great, and dreadfull poyson thought.
Nor vnto him they seeke for ayde, nor confidence they haue,
But rather seeke to stockes and stones, than him that all doth saue.
No honor to their parents due, at any time they pay,
A hell it is to feele the yoke, or maister to obay.
The minde desires to runne at large, and raunge at libertee,
The bloud doth boyle about the hearts of such as harmed bee:
And slaughters great attempted are, and deadly battayles fought,
And at the wagging of a straw, good lawes are set at nought.
Beside both vile and beastly loue in euerie place doth raigne,
That none can keepe the holy rytes of sacred bed from staine.
The Harlots eke among themselues, their bodyes doe defile:
Who can declare the shamefull theft, and wayes for to beguile,
That commonly with youth doth spring? deceyt doth most delight,
And sweete it seemes an others goodes to get against all right.
And looke what wants in doing wrong, with force and wretched will,
Is recompenst with rayling mouth, and spitefull language ill.
The teeth togither gnash, and poyson fowle abroade do spit,
As well agaynst the vnworthie, as such as deserued it.
Discention sowne, and lyes abrode in eurye place do raigne,
And filthie talke, and wordes vncleane, are vsde of wretches vaine.
The simple man deceyued still, with wordes that fayned bee,
And from the heart the flattring tongue doth alwayes disagree.
As raging seas with boystrous windes do swell aloft and rore,
And driue the mountaynes of their waues against the rocken shore:
Euen so the wretched fiend of man, both euery day and night,
Spewes out his filth, and ioyes to offende the soueraigne Lord of light.
Ne thinkes he meete for him it is to sleepe, to drinke, to eate,
Except he do before commit, some haynous trespasse greate.

Thus in the heart of man the prince of hell had sowne his seedes,
And ouergrowne his precious plantes, with his vngracious weedes,
And had oppressed godlinesse, while it was yet but greene,
That scarcely any where the steppes of vertue might be seene.
And brought vnto the Chaynes of death, and misery all their dayes.
Men first created vnto life, and to th'almighties prayse.
Poore Adam spoyled of his grace, in naked plight and bare,
Perceyued streight this hellish seede and neuer ceassing care.
Wherefore in Figtree vesture clad, himselfe by flight he hydes,
Both doubting of the mercy of God, and of his life besides.
Whose sight he shoonnes, and eke his voyce he quaketh for to heare,
As doth the Chicken of the Kyte, or Oxe of Lion neare.
And surely vnderneath the yoke of death and dreadfull sinne,
Both he and his posteritie, for euermore hath beene:
But that th'almightie Lorde aboue tooke pittie of his case,
And gaue agaynst the deuils thornes, and seede of cursed grace,
A remedie, an other seede, his blessed worde deuine,
And promise of his fauour made, how that in after time,
A holy vertuous man and strong, should rise and succour bring,
And tread vpon the serpents head, and ceasse his deadly sting.
And purge away the sinnes of man, though losse he doe sustaine,
Not voyde of ouerpoyse, but with his profite great and gaine,
Commaunded Adam for to sow this in his sense vnsounde,
To oppresse thereby (if that he could not plucke out of the ground)
The deepe set rootes that Sathans hand had planted there afore,
And so become a husbandman for him and others more,
That after sprang, and so resist by all the meanes he may,
The serpent still with earnest prayer, and with a perfite way:
And for to teach from hand to hand, to his posteritie,
The art and all the whole effect of holy husbandrie,
The comming of the blessed seede, and promises deuine,
That godlinesse and hope of life might still remaine in time,
And be preserued in the worlde: and that he neuer yeeld,
And boldly meete the prince of hell, and face him in the feeld.
He ioying in the worde of God, and in his happie state,
Of skilfull perfite husbandman that he receyude of late,
Withstood the deuill well, and drest his heart with tillage due,
And pluckt out nettles, thistles, and eche other weedes that grue.
And found againe the loue of God, whereof he felt the smell
And in the vertuous order of his life declarde it well.
The fruit of righteousnesse he looude, and all that in him lay,
Represt the raging of the flesh, and caused it to'bay,
He hated euery wicked act, and euery sinfull lore,
That was displeasing vnto God, and all his sinnes before
With prayer and streames of perfite teares, he wypte and washt away,
And all his hope and confidence, in Christ doth surely lay.

This same vnto his wife he taught, and to his children deare,
And all his ofspring euery one vnto his latest yeare:
And then to Seth he left the plowe, who eke committed it
To Enock, that applyde it well, with all his force and wit,
And sowde the worde and fayth abrode, with luckie fruitfull hande,
And so did all the yonger sort that after ought the lande.

Olde Sathan hating all this while, the seede so promised,
The chiefe esteemers of the same, and faithfull brotherhed,
And seeking all men for to drawe vnto th'infernall raigne,
Applyde himselfe with all his force, and all his hellish traine,
To ouerthrow these fathers deedes, and all their worke to spoyle,
And vnder cloke of truth with lyes, he poysons all the soyle:
And in the steede of Godly feare, he sinfull life reuiues,
With heapes of vice, and Godly seedes to spoyle againe he striues.
And now amid the pleasant corne the pricking thistle flowes,
And gracelesse cockle lothsome to the eye it ouergrowes.
Sometime the raging stormes of haile doth beate it to the ground,
And oft consuming wormes, and drake, and darnell there is found,
Or mildewes fowle, or stormes of raine, or heate, or frostie coldes,
Sometime a sunder crackes the plowe, while Camock strongly holdes.
Not much the plowmen then preuaylde, and Cayne did first beginns
To hate his fathers husbandrie, and sowe the seedes of sinne:
Whom all his issue folowed fast, as one of greatest skill,
And better fruite might not be seene, than this so lewde and ill,
Nor godlinesse was to be found in all the world so wide,
So that th'almightie father drownde both man and earth beside,
And euery creature hauing life, as iustly they deserude,
Saue one poore Barke, that in the flouds of mercie he preserude.
What should I all things call to minde? the world renude againe,
Not long regarded vertuous wordes, but folowed pleasures vaine.
Eche godly thing was lothde and left, as men did fast increase,
So all things waxed worse and worse, and vertue gan to cease.
Although the guide of heauen and earth, did euermore prouide,
For husbandmen and prophets good, and sent his sonne beside,
In vesture clad of fading fleshe, of workemen all the chiefe,
And author of our life: who though he sent for our reliefe,
His messengers and seruaunts forth abrode in euery place,
To teach the perfite art and way, and sow the seedes of grace:
Yet of the dreadfull dragon blacke preuayled much the heed,
To tread and stampe in euery place vpon this sacred seed.
The seedes of Gods triumphant worde, were neuer so largely sowne,
Nor couered in the heart of man, nor vertue better growne,
Nor in so many places seene such store of goodly graine,
As when these holy Messengers, and their disciples plaine,
Did teach in euery place abrode the arte of husbandrie,
And trode the steps of vertuous life for their posteritie.
But streight the enimie poysoned all, and brought it vnto this,
That godlynesse in few remaynde, and most men ranne amisse,
And put not for eternall life in Christ their onely trust,
So many weedes of herisies among the corne he thrust,
And monstruous droues of rauening wolues, such fierce debate & strife,
So many superstitions vaine, and such deformed life.
Now these with raging furious heate, he causeth for to start:
Now those with frostie coldes congeald, he nyppeth to the hart.
And looke how much this wretched worlde to ende doth nearer grow,
So much the more he striues the raigne of Christ to ouerthrow:
And with his filthie seede, the heart of man to cast away,
Nor much he forceth them herein, that fall by proper sway.
The olde remaynes of sinfull rocke, is vnto him an ayde,
So is the lusting force of flesh, with raigne and hed vnstayde.

Agaynst these ylles the ruler of the loftie heauens bright,
Sendes out his learned labourers, that ouerturning quight
All wickednesse, and driuing hence the darkenesse farre away,
True godlinesse may plaine appeare, and vertue beare the sway.
And euery one with heart and might, his holy will obay,
And follow perfite righteousnesse, and hate the wicked way.
By whome they may restore the hearts, where Sathan had his seat,
Euen as to let of woonted course the running riuer great,
And make it passe the mountaynes hie, or else to quench the flame
That entred hath the dryest woods, and rageth in the same.
The paine is great to labor thus agaynst the sturdie streames,
Or for to bend the aged bough growne hard with Phœbus beames.
And as the paynes are great, so great rewardes thou shalt enioy,
When Christ shall shed the stinking Goates that did his flocke annoy.
When as the dreadfull day of doome, and clearest light shall shine,
That shall reueale how euery man hath wrought and spent his time.
And therefore shrinke not for no paynes, if that thou mindst the skies,
If that thou seekste to see the face of God with happie eies.

But who deserues so great a gaine, and such a stately charge?
Or who is meete to tyll and dresse a soyle so fayre and large?
As no man takes the Ores in hand, nor thrustes the plow in ground,
Or guides the sayling ship on sea, or Captaine may be found,
Except he wise and actiue be, and taught his skill in time:
So none can out of hande be meete to till the soyle deuine.
His paterne and his fashion eke, my Muses let vs see,
And howe from youth in euery poynt, he framed ought to bee:
What kinde of man in all respects, and after let vs tell,
The maner how he ought to teach, and order all things well.

First let the fauour of his face be good, and countnance clere,
Not staynd with lothsome colourde mowle, nor speckled here and there,
Nor mangled any where with cuttes, nor let his hed be hie,
Or pyked like a Sugerlofe, not set with hanging eie,
As lowring Bulles are alwayes markte, ne let them hollow bee,
Deepe setled in their darkned dennes, no Cocles let vs see,
Nor any blearde or squinteyde mate, no hooked hawkish beake,
Nor short and apish turnde vp nose, nor Pypers puft vp cheake,
Nor toothde like dogges: who knowes not eke that tillers may not bee
Dumbe, deafe, or lame, or stammerers, or such as cannot see?
Away with broken limping legges, and halting hips beside,
No mowlehill caryed on the backe, nor wennes the throte to hide.
No lymme nor member let there want, but all in order due,
And in proportion comely framde, and pleasant to the vew.
Least Vulcane with his crooked pace delight the scornefull sort,
Or with some other fault or maime, do make the people sport,
Resembling Thersit in his looke, or else Corites face,
Or Esope in his lothsome shape, or Damon in his grace.
Ne let him of a harlot be borne of vnhonest fame,
By common rut as beastes do vse, or villaines voyde of shame.
This also must be lookte vnto, what trade his parents vsed,
If no reprochfull kinde of arte that ought to be refused,
They liude vpon, for trade of life doth often hinder much,
And let the worde, that as it should the heart it cannot tuch.
Of these things also other causes mayst thou many bring,
For though it lyes not in our power, and though it be a thing
We can not doe withall nor helpe, what shape soeuer fall,
By fowle mishap or parents fault, yet he that gouernes all,
Createth nothing here in vaine. For if the fashion right
Of things be altred here from good, and nature chaunged quight,
It doth declare some great mishap, and is a perfite signe
Of Gods appoynted punishment, and of his wrath diuine.
If that the same be stainde with blacke, against his nature cleare,
Or that the moone before the full eclypsed doe appeare:
If in the glistring starrie night, a blasing starre doe rise,
And armed men in clowdes appeare, and skirmish in the skies:
If sodenly the sunne do stay, or Planets runnes awrie:
If dreadfull streames of bloud doe gush and fall from heauens hie:
Or if amid the market place a sauage Woolfe doe stande,
Or beast doe speake, who can suppose that goodnesse is at hande?
Who feares not streight the wrath of God, or who that hath his wit,
Will not conceyue some great mischaunce to happen after it?
Both nature and examples eke perswades vs to the same,
The Grecians eft the signes of God haue felt of auncient fame.
The like in many ouerthrowes the Romanes prowde haue knowne,
Nor rashly seemed the oxe to warne, that Rome should kepe hir owne.
Sagunthus sacked, and all hir men in cruell order slaine,
Did shew the infant entred not his mothers wombe in vaine:
Did not the armyes, sworde, and cart, that God in clowds did sende,
Foreshow Hierusalems decay, and miserable ende?
And Xerxes might in field before his legges for flight prepare,
When as a Mare amongst his campe did fole a flying Hare.
The monstruous foling of a Moyle beside, did plainly show
The loftie walles of Babilon should haue an ouerthrow.
We all abhorre these monstrous birthes, as nature vs doth mooue,
And seldome after them is seene, doth any goodnesse prooue.
But most of all if women chaunce, such monstrous shapes to beare,
If nature faile in those that are the worldly rulers heare.
For sure the outward countnaunce doth declare the inwarde minde,
And what lyes hid in secret sense, of good or yll we finde.
Of any foule yll fauoured face, what lookste thou for but yll?
And who doth not his talke abhorre, and shunne his presence styll?
For these misshapen folkes vnto themselues or other men,
Betoken harme, or else a signe of froward witte in them.
Therefore let not our husbandman be shapte yll fauouredly,
Nor any such whose parents haue bene staynde with infamie.

And if it might be done, I would (a thing we seldome see)
That in his tender youth he should in vertue trayned bee,
And from his childhoode learne to loue the Lord, and him to dread,
And euermore commit himselfe to Christ his soueraigne head:
And worship him with harmelesse hart, in deede and worde alwayes,
And seeke the thing that most may sounde to his most worthie prayse.
Likewise to pray that from the skies the blessed holy spright
On him may fall: by whome he may teach Christ to all men right.
Let him to parents dutie shew, and honor learne to giue
To eche man as his place requires, and as he here doth liue.
I would beside he should be kept with vertuous companie,
And shunne the gracelesse sort of youth, that vse to prate and lie:
Least that his fellowes him infect with maners lewde and yll,
That hardly after will be left for any care or skill.
The die that wooll doth first receyue, will hardly out be got,
No more than on the Tables newe the first deformed spot.
And this beside importeth much, if that the parents heare,
The nourse, and eke the schoolemaister be good, and Christ do feare.
Thus would I haue him liue with men that good and vertuous bee,
In yongest yeares, when as you list you bow the tender tree.
And filthie wordes he may not heare, nor vse at any time,
Nor with his eyes beholde the thing that may to yll encline.
Besides in Countrie language must he haue a perfite skill,
And remedie be had, if that his wordes he vtter ill.
Nor onely in the vulgar tongue he must be throughly seene,
But also in the fountaynes sweete of Latine phrases cleene,
And taught the best Gramarians that olde or newe haue ben,
And read the purest wryters first, as Cato teacheth him,
And heare the best, least barbarousnesse do him in youth infect,
Which once a man, he must forsake and vtterly reiect.
The Romane speach doth profite much, as openly is seene,
Which of all other languages, in Europe is the Queene.
The auncient Romanes as they did their Empire large extende,
Unto the frostie Northren pole, where earth doth seeme to ende,
And to the flouds of Euphrates, and mightie Parthians raigne,
To foote of loftie Atlas mount, that doth the skies sustaine:
So was their tongue through all the worlde dispersed here and there,
And for their scepter and their sworde, was reurenst eurye where.
For in this tongue the subiects all their aunswere euer had,
And all their prowde Edicts and lawes, in this were likewise made.
And hitherto wheresoeuer the Empire large of Rome doth raigne,
In estimation is it had, and honour great doth gaine.
Besides it famous is for holy bookes and woorkes prophane,
Wherein to haue no skill, were to our husbandman a shame.
By this we tread the path that leades to eurye science hie,
Whereto by vulgar speach, we neuer can approch so nie.
For this same cause, and for the learnde and godly wryters sake,
That long tyme since in teaching Christ, did paines and trauaile take.
Let him the Grecians tongue pervse: and for the volumes graue
Of Moyses and the Prophets olde, the Hebrue let him haue.
And ioyne thereto the Chaldean speach: the water that is shed
Thorow many vessels, cooles not so as doth the fountaynes hed.
Eche thing himselfe let him pervse, and knowe the speach deuine,
And not depend on other men, to preach as they assigne.
Therefore let him apply the tongues, wherein were first enrolde
The holy lawes that God did giue vnto our fathers olde.
And weigh the rules and titles well, and what eche worde doth means
Know perfitely, that in the phrase he may be throughly seene.
For of the name a knowledge great in matters oft is sound,
And fond it is for men to talke, and not to know their ground.
Wherein a number great of men haue mooude the skilfull sort,
To laugh to scorne their ignorance, whereof they made a sport.
For as in all things, names and wordes doe greatly signifie,
So most of all in scriptures where both oft and commonly,
The letters small and little prickes, doe misteries containe,
Which no good man will sleightly way or count as matters vaine.
The figures and the diuers tropes that in these speaches are,
Let him beside well vnderstand, for oft the sense they marre
That are vnskilfull in the same, whereby they vtter lyes
Unto the simple common sort in steede of verities.
Whence springs such heapes of errors nowe as at this day doe raigne,
Or hurly burlyes that do rage among the people vaine:
But onely that a great sort are, so to the letters bounde,
As can no Metaphor allowe, nor any figure sounde?
Of this must mischiefe needes ensue, no tropes yet I allow,
Except the text require the same, or charitie auow.
For in the scripture certaintie the people must be taught,
And one thing still that they may know, what good and what is naught.
Nor meete it is to force the phrase, to senses many mo,
When nothing doth compell thee from the verie wordes to go,
Least things assurde he doubtfull made, and charitie be broke,
Nor any phrase may iudged be by figure to be spoke,
Except the same in other place be open told and plaine,
For else to thinke a mysterie in figure hid is vaine.
That speach doth most delight the eares, and winnes the peoples prayse
That sundrie sortes is varied oft, and turnde a thousand wayes.
But thou take heede thou dost not wrest, the text out of his kinde,
Nor play with holy scriptures, for to please thy foolish minde:
Which now is vsde of many men, a dreadfull thing to see.
Consider thou and ponder well, what thing may meetest bee,
And profite most the common sort, and rude vnruly traine,
Before that thou delight their eares, or play with them in vaine.

Not onely olde Palæmons arte, our husbandmen must haue,
But great Chrysippus cunning to, and skill of Zeno graue,
Not therewithall to scolde or brawle, as schoole men vse to play,
Or to beguile the simple sort, and wipe the truth away:
But better to defend the dartes of deadly enimie,
Or for to breake the snares and ginnes of such as teach awrie.
For theirs it is aboue the rest to aunswere all men here,
That question mooue of faith and hope, or doubtes that doe appere,
To keepe their doctrine and their flocke, agaynst the greedie woolfe.
Now if they know the snares and trappes, and depth of euery goolfe,
And easly can discerne the truth, and falshood put away,
Then still the truth they shall preserue, and neuer it betray,
Nor cause it to be iested at, nor for to suffer wrong.
For if to mortall mysers here, destruction doth belong,
That know not Christ the sauiour hie, nor his religion pure:
What shall we of the teachers thinke, whose want of skill procure,
Not to themselues alone, but to a hundred thousand mo,
By error harme, who led to hell by their perswasion go.

Who doubtes that reading of the workes of famous Cicero,
Is needefull for our husbandman, and well agreeing tho,
The art of speaking faire and plaine, this meetest is to know,
The pleasant filed speach that from the learned breast doth flow,
The quick and well perswading tongue, that knowes wel how to deale
What matters secrete for to keepe, and what for to reueale:
And to obserue the chaunge of time the persons and the place,
This is the plowe of husbandmen, that riddeth worke apace.
Let children out of order prate, and people gape and gale,
It doth beseeme a preacher well, by art to frame his tale.
Nor any thing against vs heare the minde of Paule doth make,
Nor yet vnlearned kinde of wordes, that Christes Apostles spake.
Where diuers causes euer be (as hath bene alwayes sayde)
Effects are diuers to be seene, and to be thorowly wayde.
We may not therefore follow them, in euery thing aright,
Since that our causes differ much, and case is altred quight.
Who knoweth not that otherwise we alwayes ought to speake,
Unto the learnde and skilfull sort, than to the yong and weake?
The first beginnings of our fayth, they did the Gentiles teach,
Which needed not a filed phraise, and curious tongue to preach,
But rather of the power of God to mooue them therevnto.
Wherefore the Lorde did giue them power, great wonders for to do.
That might vnto the worde giue force, though learning were away,
That thus perswaded to the fayth, they could not truely say
That eloquence had trayned them for to beleeue on Christ,
But that it was the holy spirite and vertue of the hiest.
Beside the principles may not be taught, by curious art or wit,
Nor needes a Rhethoricians tongue in the perswading it.
But stedfastly we must beleeue the first beginnings well,
Therefore it is but vaine, a fine and pleasant tale to tell,
Unto the rude vnskilfull sort, that doe the groundes denie,
As of no myracles they neede, nor wonders from the skie,
That knowe the true and certaine path, and after Christ haue sought,
But from the Craddle, Christ and his decrees to vs are tought.
In these our tender yeares we neede plaine wordes, not loftie speach,
But rather ayde of holy spirite, and faythfull man to teach.
But after Christ and fayth is got, then vse the finest kinde,
Of Rhetoricke, and colours all, to mooue the slouthfull minde.
Inflame their hartes with loue of Christ, and God continually,
Perswade them wickednesse to hate and all Idolatry:
And vertue alwayes to embrace, in goodnesse to delight,
And wickednesse to shunne and hate, and euery sinfull sight,
To leaue their hard and flintie hartes, prouoking God to yre,
To feare the threatnings of his worde, and euerlasting fyre:
To shed their saltish teares for sinne, and all their confidence
On Gods great mercie for to set (who pardons eche offence)
Assured of his fauour great, extolting him alway:
On this bestow thy Rhetoricke, and all that thou canst say.
And likewise if thou chosen be, to fight against the traine
Of Sathan, errors to suppresse, and truth for to maintaine.
For though as sharpe and fierie sworde, the worde of God we see,
Doth pearce into the deepest part of hardest hearts that bee:
And as a heauie hammer great, breakes all that doth withstand,
Yet is the force increased much, by helpe of perfite hand:
Euen as the wounde is deeper cut, that stronger hand doth make,
And sooner breake ye stone, which maule with stronger arme doth shake.
Use Rethoricke therefore husbandman, and set thy whole delight,
In furthring of the worde of God with all thy force and might.
For Paule among the perfite sort, did deepely still entreate,
And fed the weaker sort with milke, refusing stronger meate.
What should I shewe how eloquent they were, and eke how fine,
That wrote their worthie volumes neare vnto the Apostles time.
Choose where thou likest among the Greekes, or all the Latine rowtes,
None hateth Rethoricke certainely, but slouthfull drowsie lowtes,
And gorbellyes that euermore doe set their whole delight,
In liuing lasily at home, and sleeping day and night.

Our husbandman must yet attempt, the other studyes all,
That tearmed are of auncient men, the learnings liberall,
None of the things that here to God or man belonging bee,
Are voyde of number dealt withall. Th'almightie Maiestee
Framde eche thing with his perfite poyse, and numbred euery thing,
The art of numbring pleasant is, and profite great doth bring.
In this alone from brutishe beastes, we men doe differ here,
So would th'almightie king, when first he made vs rule to bere,
And Lordes of all things that he framde, appoynted vs to bee,
That perfitely we might pervse eche thing in his degree,
That in the skies or earth he made, eche thing he did deuide,
Both generally, particular, and minutes small beside:
That waying so his wondrous workes, and vsing well the same,
We should extoll his worthinesse, and prayse his holy name.

The skill of heauenly motions eke, doth to the same encline,
Than which amongst vs men there is, no knowledge more diuine,
Nor more that brings vs to the loue, of God himselfe aboue,
Nor farther liftes vs from the earth, and to the skies doth moue.
Who woonders not to see the Sunne and Moone continuallie,
To keepe their course, and planets faire, and glistring starres in skie,
And prayseth not the hande of God, that them did thus create,
And doth not count himselfe to be in passing happie state?
Who shall inioy that blessed house, whose walles so outward shine,
With Princely beautie garnished, and figures framed fine?
For needes he must suppose, that greater things remaine within,
Nor is he here deceyude, for neyther eye hath euer seene,
Nor eare hath heard, nor any heart of mortall man might deeme,
The ioyes that God prepared hath, for such as him esteeme.
Wherefore a pleasant studie sure, and aptest for our minde,
Is this that doth the skies beholde, and starres of euery kinde.
Our countnance seemes to prooue the same, that lifted vp a hie,
Is framde as it appoynted were for to beholde the skie.
Beside it standeth man in steede for many vses here,
For whose behoofe the Lorde hath made, eche thing that doth appere.
By face of heauen, and moouing of the Moone and Phœbus crowne,
And by the three folde rising of the starres and going downe.
The Lorde deuided tymes, and did appoynt the day and night,
The chaunge of yeares and monthes and houres, both equall & vnright.
And set them signes of winter blacke, and of the chearfull spring,
Of burning Sommer, and the time that rypest fruites doth bring,
Of weather faire and fowle or stormes and tempestes that arise,
And tokens for the Mariner that on the water lyes,
And for the husbandman that in the ground his seede doth sow:
Hereto the Northren Pole doth serue, the beare and beareward slow,
The monstrous Waine of Charles, the Goate and little Riddes withal,
And Hyades that tempest showes, when as they rise or fall:
Orion eke that winter brings, with sworde and dreadfull face,
And vnderneath his feete the Hare, whom Syrian Curre doth chase,
And many other goodly starres, and pictures in the skie,
Besides the twelue familiar signes that in the Zodiake lie.
These ought our husband man to knowe, and throughly to pervse,
Bicause of holy scripture, and that oft they come in vse.
And least he should not vnderstand, the things that euen those
That rude and common people be, are able to disclose.

I suffer not the Chaldeyes here, ne yet the Arabians vayne,
Who thinke that euery thing is wrought, by force of starrie raigne,
And fearefull in their matters, wey what signe doth vpward spring,
Deuiding all the heauens great (a straunge and monstrous thing)
To houses twelue, and boldly than their figure vp they rere,
Assigning to the Lorde of birth, eche mans conditions here.
Than Planets plase, and marking how their fond asspects do runne,
The bussardes blinde doe streight wayes iudge what good or yll to come?
How short or long his life shall be, that than the mother beares,
What welth he shall obtaine, and how, and in what space of yeares,
What brethren, and what sisters, or what parents he shall haue,
What maisters, or what sicknesses, and when he goes to graue.
They likewise of his mariage iudge, what wife he shall obtaine,
And in what sort she shall be got, with pleasure, or with paine.
Then of his honestie they deeme, and his dishonest life,
What friendship he shall alwayes finde, what hatred, or what strife.
Besides, of signes they monstrous things and wonders doe declare,
Appoynting of the lineaments of man to eche his share,
Without the which they may not toucht, or euer mooued bee,
Whereon both death dependes they say, and life in their degree.
Then to the seauen wandring starres, they houses doe assigne
Perhaps for feare of banishment, when here or there they clime.
And which of them are hote or colde, or doe with moystnesse flow,
Which drie, or which are swift in course, or which in moouing slow,
Which blacke, or white, or yellow are, which greene or red doe shine,
Which of them of the womens sexe, or which are masculine.
These things they boldly do affirme, and with as sober grace,
As if they late from heauen came, and saw it face to face.
What should I tell how they prescribe an houre for euery thing?
And with their superstitions, feare on feeble heartes do bring?
They teach how that it is not good, this day or that to sow,
Nor for to trim the barraine fieldes, nor cut the woods that grow,
Nor for to plant or cut the vines, nor houses for to make,
Nor wane the little sucking childe, nor men to friendship take,
Nor for to cut or shaue the beard, nor for to dresse the handes,
Nor for to passe from place to place, nor visite other lande.
Nor for to beate the bushe for birde, nor baite the fishers hooke,
Nor for to chase the fearefull Hart, nor teach the childe his booke,
Nor for to take a wife, nor once at Cardes or Dice to play,
Nor for to keepe thy worde, nor thought, nor borowed things to pay,
Nor to dispute of any thing, nor take the lawe in hande,
Nor for to cut the bleeding vaine, nor seeke the healing hande,
To breake no yong vntamed horse, nor Geldings for to make,
To biue no iewels, nor no lande, nor any bargaine take:
To sende no postes nor messengers, to beare thy friend thy minde,
To cut no heare, nor poll the heade, nor send thy corne to grinde,
Not for to digge or deale with mines, nor houses faire to make,
Nor lately built to dwell therein, nor seruaunts for to take,
Nor battaile to begin, nor meete in fielde the furious fo,
Nor on the surging seas in Barke for any thing to go.
Who can remember all their toyes, a hell they here doe frame,
While nothing can be done, except the skies permit the same?
Such Prophetes blinde I doe not like, that in their foolishe traunce,
Perswade the common people fonde, that this or that shall chaunce:
In giuing all things to the starres, that none aliue can knowe,
Nor any reason nor experience perfitely can showe.
I giue them leaue that worldly are, such folly for to vse,
Wherewith themselues and other men, they fondly may abuse.
But for the other perfite is, and causes certaine bee,
That from the olde experience of the worlde deriude we see.

Next to this knowledge is the same, that first from prick doth spring,
And teacheth all the trade to meate and measure euery thing,
As Medowes, Pastures, Mountaynes great, and valleys large & wide,
And loftie stately towers, and starres that in the skies doe glide.
A worthie pleasant arte is this, for many matters meete,
Which needes our husbandman must ioine with other learnings sweete.

The dearest daughter of the Muses now who dare despise,
Or melodie that in the voyce, or in the finger lies?
The cares that doe consume the heart, doth Musicke driue away,
And comforteth the sad, and rayseth mindes that troubled lay,
Prouoketh teares, and mooueth vnto pittie now and than,
Which waies thou wilt doth Musicke draw the thought & mind of man.
It ceaseth anger great and fierce, and furie doth withstande,
And mooues againe the martiall heart, to take the sworde in hande,
By Musicke fowle and hurtfull spirites, are often ouerthrowne,
And good are brought, a thing full well to auncient Prophets knowne.
The force doth Musicke eft augment, and easie make the paine,
That workemen, shipmen, and the plowman doe full oft sustaine.
The childe by meanes of Musicke doth, in Cradell quiet lie,
And doth forget the mothers breast, and hunger by and bie,
The fierce Laconians when they were in battell bent to meete,
Terpander set them all agreed, by song and Musicke sweete.
Not men alone are mooude with sounde of sweete and pleasant note,
But also birdes and brutish beastes, and fishe in floodes that flote.
The loftie prauncing horse we see, in Musicke doth reioyce,
The vnweeldie Beare doth also leape to heare his maysters voyce.
Arion borne vpon the backe of Dolphyn swimming sure,
Doth shewe what force in Musicke is, and what it can procure.
Both mountaynes, woods, & hawtie rocks, as auncient men do wright,
Did follow Orphæus for his song, and wonderfull delight.
Amphion eke the sonne of Ioue, as stories doe declare,
With Harpe did cut the ragged stones, and brought them into square,
Wherewith he built the Thebane walles, and stately tower strong,
That wayde not all the Grecians force, nor enmyes sieges long.
Th'almightie father hath assignde, to euery minde a loue
Of Musicke sweete, and would the earth should show the workes aboue.
And counterfet them in hir kinde, as neare as here might bee,
That hyest and the chiefest things, with basest might agree.
For doubtlesse all the heauenly Spheares, that make so sweet a noyse,
With whirling vp and downe of starres, or else of angels voyce,
That doe in thousands serue the Lorde, doth to the earth let fall,
This sweete consent that mooues the minde, delightes and pleaseth all.
And as this same in sweetenesse farre eche other arte exceedes:
So ought it to be well applyde with good and godly deedes:
Not vnto wanton pleasure here, nor foolish vaine delight,
As men in madnesse oft doe vse, opprest with wicked spright.
With good example hath the sonne of Iesse taught vs so,
And Moyses with his shining face, and many Prophets mo.
As Paule inspirde with holy spirite, doth teach and will the same.
The Gentils all their prayers eke, in verse did chiefly frame,
And chaunted vp their Hymnes vnto their Gods in solemne plight,
Perswaded that their fayned Saintes in Musicke tooke delight.
Our husbandman therefore must not this worthie arte disdaine,
But with the chiefest seeke the top of Musicke to attaine.
Whereby he may extoll the Lord, and mooue the sluggish minde,
And what if that in making of a verse he pleasure finde?
And prooue a christian Poet good? the Prophets olde sometime
Were woont to write there workes in verse, and pleasantly to rime.
In verse Apollo aunswere gaue, Religion and good lawes,
Unto the common sort were taught, in verse and Poets sawes.
By Manto, Linus, Amphiaraus, Sibills, and Orphey eke,
The maiestie was alwayes great, in stately verse to speake.
With this the vertuous Poets learnd, did please and well entreate,
Both simple common people rude, and worthie princes greate.

Nowe tyme it is the nature straunge, and cause of things to know,
And whatsoeuer learned men, in Phisicks earst did show.
Although they are but laughing stockes, and dotars commonly,
And that you sooner may the North and South togither tye,
And ioyne vnto the brittish shore, the Persian dignitie,
Then for to cause their diuers mindes, in one for to agree.
Nor maruaile when without the light, that from the scriptures springs,
They rashly iudge of hed and ende, and order right of things.
As if a blinde man in the way would make himselfe a guide,
Or iudge of colours which were fairst, or which were better dide.
It shall not hurt thee much these things (though fond) in hand to take,
And lightly to pervse and see, for lyes doe often make
The truth to be esteemed more, and of more force to showe.
Both sweete it is, and I allow the cause of things to knowe.
But such as certaine are, and such as no man can denie,
Of knowledge certaine endes there are, and boundes appoynted lie.
The worde of God must beare the bell, and sway in euery thing,
And next to that such reasons good, as wise men here doe bring,
Must be esteemed as a troth.
Be circumspect in euery thing, if ought thou seekst to finde
Concerning heauen, world, and forme, of substance, or of kinde,
Or touching fortune, place, or hap, the elaments and time,
Of motion, thunder, winde and snow, raine, haile, or frostie rime.
Whereof it comes that pleasant dewes in Sommer wettes the spring,
Or what procures the lightning fierce, that pearceth euery thing.
What makes the fire oftentymes, in hellish clowdes to glow,
Or why the sunne in showre appearing, the rainbow streight doth show.
Why Moone with fogge is compast oft, or how the blasing starre
Appeares, that oft is signe to men, of famine, death, or warre:
Wherefore the earth doth tremble so, and Cities ouerturne,
And why that Phœbus oftentimes with threefolde face doth burne
Besides let him consider well, if that a good man may
Beleue the distance of the skies to be as they doe say.
If that the Moone so farre exceede the earth in quantitee,
Or if the starres so farre aboue the earth in bignesse bee,
Or if the Lord created more than two of greatest light,
Or any saue the Sunne that past the Moone in force and might.
Moreouer, land and seas pervse, and marke their natures plaine,
And all that in the earth or ayre, or in the seas remaine.

But for these straunge and forraine things, men ought not so to care,
As for our nearer neighbors much, that in vs dwelling are.
Unto our proper houses therefore, let vs come and see,
What wondrous things by natures handes in vs created bee,
How much we doe excell and passe, eche other worldly kinde,
Whose rulers and correctors here, the Lorde hath vs assignde.
What giftes of minde we doe enioy, and what of bodie here,
What vertuously of vs is wrought, and what doth lewde appere.
These things are first to be perusde, that we may perfitely,
Both knowe our selues, and eke the things that are to vs so nie.
Fond is it to be wise abrode, and onely for to see
The outwarde things, while as at home like bussards blind we bee.

But here me thinkes some lasie lowte should say to me. O how
Suppose you sir that meete it is your plowman first to know
These things, before he till his ground, and holy plow doe holde:
What say you to the Apostles than, and to the Prophets olde,
Where euer finde you that these men were learned in this sort:
Or who would credite him that any such thing would report.
Besides but few such plowmen could be got as you desire,
Whereas the haruest of the Lorde, doth numbers great require.
The time hath ben when men of god, without their bookes were taught,
And diuers sodainely by him, to state of Prophets brought.
So fishers and vnskilfull men, by force of holy spright,
He made the teachers of the world, and showes of perfite light.
Besides a number more of such, his mightie hand did frame,
Not for to breake dame Natures lawes, and alter quite the same,
But for to shewe his mightie force, and great prerogatiue,
And that he was not tyed to sleaue of any thing aliue.
We may not therefore giue our selues, to gape for wonders still,
But as the guise of men requires, we must conforme our will,
Till God do worke in other sorte, and other meanes doth giue.
In sterne and barren wildernesse the Iewes sometime did liue,
And neyther plowde, nor sowde, nor reapte, in fortie winters space:
And were not he starke madde that now would looke for such a grace,
And like an ydle lubber sit, and take no kinde of paine
With hande nor foote, for him or his a liuing for to gaine?
Or gape to haue the Rauens come, or widdow at his neede.
Who at the bidding of the Lorde, Helias once did feede.
The Riuer great of Iordan once, and eke the fearefull seas,
Through might of God, and all on foote, the Hebrues past with ease.
Now neede we when we passe these floods, both barke, and mast & saile,
And Tiphys eke to holde the helme, least on the seas we quaile,
Thus are we bound to learne whatsoeuer, on earth we knowe or see,
That may vnto the honour great of God and glorie bee.
Ne must they looke for ydlenesse, that will be husbandmen,
Least that the Lorde be tempted so, and iustly plague vs then,
For our contempt and slouthfulnesse, example here let bee,
The franticke Anabaptistes that in any place we see:
Who hating bookes and learned artes, doe count it vertue graue,
No skill in any language, saue their Countrie tongue to haue:
And leaping lately from the shop of Shoomakers, or such,
Are not ashamde the Preachers place with greasie handes to tuch,
Still boasting of the holy ghost, and so with passing pride,
They hedlong throwe themselues to hell, and numbers great beside,
By teaching false and foolish things, the Prophets eke deuine,
Good Moyses first in Pharaos house, applyde the Muses nine,
Before he taught the worde of God, or traynde the Iewish hartes,
And Daniel did refuse the Chaldeans meate, but not their artes.
Paule of a learned Doctor in Ierusalem was tought,
And not alonely in the scriptures to excell was thought,
But in the Grecian eloquence, and sciences prophane,
Wherein to be exactly learnde, he alwayes had the name.
With which he better armed, put the Gentiles soone to flight,
And with these weapons of their owne, he ouerthrew them quight.
At Athens with Aratus wordes, he gaue them all the foyle,
And brought agaynst the Creteans witnesse of their natiue soyle.
A man that hedlong threw himselfe in Etnaes raging flame,
Amongst the people for to gaine an euerlasting fame.
What good and honest is among these artes, they well may chuse,
And make them for to serue their turne, that vertuously them vse.
The Egyptians once were robbed of goodes, and spoyled vtterly,
To increase the treasure of the Lorde, and his to bewtifie.
The Gentiles fayth and life we onely are forbidden here,
And not their worthie sciences and springes of learning clere,
So that we put them to good vse, and profite any wayes,
Applying them with all our force vnto th'almighties prayse.
Our sauiour Christ commended eke, the Scribe that well was tought,
Resembling him vnto the rich, who from his treasure brought,
Things olde and newe aboundantly. Yea glory doth remaine
At home for learned men that do in godlinesse take paine.
As that most learned Prophet song, and plainely did declare,
He whom the cruell Lions in their dreadfull denne did spare,
Rude rusticall vnskilfulnesse deserues no prayse at all,
But lothsome is in him to whom the sacred plow shall fall.
Who doth allow the laysie lobbe? where is not slouth vnmeete?
The hony gathering Bees are praysde, bicause in springtime sweete,
With dayly labour great they make the wholsome honie good.
The little Ant doth frame his house with trauaile in the wood,
And on his backe a greater burthen than himselfe doth lay,
And thrusteth vp his corne in caue agaynst the winter day.
Why should not likewise in our husbandmen such care appere,
In those whom God appoynted hath the worldes correctors here?
No loytring leysure here was left, but businesse to be done,
Which faythfull seruaunts should applie vntill their maister come.
That fewe such seruaunts at this time in any countrie bee,
Who doth not know? and eke the cause I thinke eche man doth see.
Some seeke their owne commoditie, and belly well to fill,
And some in fieldes of ydlenesse, doe loue to lynger still.
But seldome any man t'aduaunce the prayse of Christ desires,
Nor weyes what labours great and toyle, the heart of man requires.
Therefore the fieldes doe barraine lie, and brambles thicke doth bring,
And Cockle fowle abundantly, in euery place doth spring.
The tender sheepe dispersed are, and faint and sicke they bee,
And feede vpon the poysoned plantes that in the Marsh they see.
Yet none vouchsafes for to redresse this miserable case,
Thou wouldest suppose that all had sworne togither now in place.
The deuill and the raging worlde, and princes of estate,
And all the shauen plowmen here, that euermore doe prate,
And talke of Christ and boast themselues to be his seruaunts true,
That blinded mindes of men might not with wholsome tillage due,
Be brought vnto a blessed state, nor perfite seedes be sowne,
And gratefull haruest vnto God, with great aduauntage mowne.
What wages to these seruaunts lewde and deulish kingdome here
Shall God assigne, when on his iudgement seate he shall appere?
With pacience let them looke for that, and beare their owne contempt,
We mindefull of our matter here, will better things attempt.

Now must our husband frame himselfe a vertuous man to bee.
That both his teaching and his life, may iustly here agree,
Least teaching others, he himselfe doth misse the perfite way,
And bring the worde to bide reproche, and building to decay.
Aboue all things he must beware of pride and loftie minde,
The perfite following here of Christ, who liued in lowest kinde,
(Who must be their assured marke) doth not allow the same
In christen men, and eke aboue the rest, it is a shame
For any seruant to presume aboue his maisters gree,
And for to chalenge princely state, and worldly soueraintee.
Where Christ the Lord with bloudie sweate, & face with spittle stainde,
And blowes, and mockes and boare his crosse, and cruell death sustainde.
Who hateth not Nestorius voyce, and wordes deseruing blame?
Or pride of Paule, the Bishop once of Antioche; the same
That cleare Orontes passeth by? who doth not here repine,
To see the christian husbandman, the steps of Maximine
The prowde to treade, and both his handes, and stinking wretched feete
To let be kist, and borne on backs of men with pompe vnmeete,
Beset about with precious stones, all clad in rich aray,
Like Persean prince or Emprour great that beares in Inde the sway.
Let kings pursue such pompe and pride, and our poore husbandman,
Content himselfe with meane estate, not looking hier than
Confessing not alone himselfe a seruaunt here in name,
But both in countnance, weede, and voyce, and life, declare the same.
Directing all the order of his life by Christ alone,
And making him the marke of sauing health, and others none,
There is no cause why man should swell with pride, or such disdaine,
For noble bloud, or welthie state, or shape of bodie vaine,
Or troupe of men, or learned show, or titles gotten graue,
Or any other kinde of thing. (For what is all we haue?)
Since that we were created here, with all that in vs lyes,
Eche one to be an others helpe, which if we doe dispise,
And looke aloft with hautie minde, and thinke to beare a sway,
The greatest giftes that here we haue will turne to our decay.
Beside the seruant of the Lorde must not inflamed bee,
With wrath, or yre, nor frowning looke, as beastes that oft we see,
With hurtfull hornes do runne vpon such as do come in sight,
And threaten with their countnance fierce, continually to fight.
Let gentle mindes be shrowded still, with milde and comely cheere,
And in the seruant of the Lorde, Christes Image plaine appeere:
Least that before he gin to speake or clime the Pulpet hie,
The people streight suspecting harme, for feare away doe flie.
And let him learne both wordes and deedes to suffer paciently,
Contemning diuers things, and most esteeming not a flie.
A noble heart in bodie beare, not mooude with easie winde
And take good heede he neuer speake no wordes of wrathfull kinde.
Forbearing grinding with his teeth, and frowning with his face,
And most of all from skirmishing with hande or fist in place.
Such anger doth not well agree, that he shall eft dispise,
And thinke vnmeete for common people rude to exercise.
Who can abide Amphitrions sonne, on O[illeg.]ta for to see,
Or viewe the face of Aiax fierce, while in his furie hee
Destroyes the poore vnguiltie beastes Vlysses for to kill?
Who will not shunne the companie and friendship all to yll
Of mad Eurilochus, while as he doth pursue in chase
His man, with spit and meate in hande vnto the Market place?
Who can delight in Commodus, that in his raging yre,
For trifles cast the maister of his bathes into the fyre?
Or who doth not Comedes his wicked act detest,
That Samson like in furious rage, a schoole of boyes opprest?
Let rage and wrath be driuen hence, nor let him euer speake
With bitter wordes to any man, his malice for to wreake,
Nor coole his minde with Stygian streame, nor any man defame,
In euery matter let him learne to keepe his tongue in frame.
And talke of pleasant things and good, not prating much the while,
The chattring tongue is lothsome still, and foolish speach is vile,
And full of lyes is alwayes scornde. To rule the tongue aright
Is acceptable vnto God, and vnto euery Wight.