The Rocke of Regard diuided into foure parts. The first, the Castle of delight: Wherein is reported, the wretched end of wanton and dissolute liuing. The second, the Garden of Vnthriftinesse: Wherein are many sweete flowers, (or rather fancies) of honest loue. The thirde, the Arbour of Vertue: Wherein slaunder is highly punished, and vertuous Ladies and Gentlewomen, worthily commended. The fourth, the Ortchard of Repentance: Wherein are discoursed, the miseries that followe dicing, the mischiefes of quareling, the fall of prodigalitie: and the souden ouerthrowe of foure notable cousners, with diuers other morall, natural, & tragical discourses: documents and admonitions being all the inuention, collection and translation of George Whetstons |
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Pimos complaint at the houre of his death.
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 | The Rocke of Regard |  |
Pimos complaint at the houre of his death.
Aye
mee (quoth hee) the case is altered quite,
My wylie skill, that chaungde the sense of lawe,
My cunning Pleas, that made a wronge seeme right,
Are nowe the bones, whereon my conscience gnawe,
They force mee graunt, the good from euill I knewe,
The good I left, the euill too late I rue,
My wylie skill, that chaungde the sense of lawe,
My cunning Pleas, that made a wronge seeme right,
Are nowe the bones, whereon my conscience gnawe,
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The good I left, the euill too late I rue,
The common lawe, the which I studied longe,
I finde condemnes mee wretch of many a crime,
The lawe it selfe (how so we wreast it wronge)
Of God his lawe, was founded in the prime,
Then since in one, they both agree in troth,
Abuse of one, must be abuse of both.
I finde condemnes mee wretch of many a crime,
The lawe it selfe (how so we wreast it wronge)
Of God his lawe, was founded in the prime,
Then since in one, they both agree in troth,
Abuse of one, must be abuse of both.
And sure the one I turned as I list,
If I were wrong'd, the lawe amends could make,
If I did wronge, the lawe such power mist,
The case was chang'de the wronged might go packe
Such helpes I had, such quillets of delay,
That all seemde true, that (subtile) I did say,
If I were wrong'd, the lawe amends could make,
If I did wronge, the lawe such power mist,
The case was chang'de the wronged might go packe
Such helpes I had, such quillets of delay,
That all seemde true, that (subtile) I did say,
But now I am, attached to appeare,
Afore a Iudge, at no mannes faultes that winkes,
The diuell declares, how I haue liued here,
My conscience guilt, giues euidence me thinkes,
To learne the lawe, sith studie I did vowe,
For breach of lawe, I am indited nowe.
Afore a Iudge, at no mannes faultes that winkes,
The diuell declares, how I haue liued here,
My conscience guilt, giues euidence me thinkes,
To learne the lawe, sith studie I did vowe,
For breach of lawe, I am indited nowe.
Before my God mee seemes I charged am,
For ayding those, with credite, coyne, and skill,
Whose lewde deceites, deserued whippes of shame,
And that to make me guiltie of their ill,
Consentientes (your lawe sayth Ioue doth say,)
Et agentes, plectentur pari pȩna.
For ayding those, with credite, coyne, and skill,
Whose lewde deceites, deserued whippes of shame,
And that to make me guiltie of their ill,
Consentientes (your lawe sayth Ioue doth say,)
Et agentes, plectentur pari pȩna.
My guiltie minde, confesseth streight the act,
False Frenos fraud, was boulstered vp by mee,
Condemnde of this, streight comes an other fact,
I wronged men, against all equitie,
When lawe doth say, Hoc facias alteri,
In right and wronge, quod vis tibi fieri.
False Frenos fraud, was boulstered vp by mee,
Condemnde of this, streight comes an other fact,
I wronged men, against all equitie,
When lawe doth say, Hoc facias alteri,
In right and wronge, quod vis tibi fieri.
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This bitter doome, giuen by the doome of lawe,
Mee sinnefull wretch, as guiltie striketh mute,
The men I wrong'd within my conscience gnawe,
I spared none through pittie, nor through sute,
What lawe did giue, since I for vauntage tooke,
In breach of lawe, should I for fauour looke?
Mee sinnefull wretch, as guiltie striketh mute,
The men I wrong'd within my conscience gnawe,
I spared none through pittie, nor through sute,
What lawe did giue, since I for vauntage tooke,
In breach of lawe, should I for fauour looke?
O noe, I must, in proper person pleade,
Plaine not guiltie, or guiltie of the crime,
No forreine Plea, may now delayaunce breede,
Untrauerst goes, the Venu and the time,
No aduocate, or letters here may serue,
The Iudge is bent to iudge as I deserue.
Plaine not guiltie, or guiltie of the crime,
No forreine Plea, may now delayaunce breede,
Untrauerst goes, the Venu and the time,
No aduocate, or letters here may serue,
The Iudge is bent to iudge as I deserue.
I guiltie am, I must of force confesse,
By ignoraunce, these faultes, yet would I scuse,
But I, vile I, that had men in distresse,
And did their Pleas of ignoraunce refuse,
Mee thinkes that God, doth rule mee ore with this,
Non excusat, ignorantia iuris.
By ignoraunce, these faultes, yet would I scuse,
But I, vile I, that had men in distresse,
And did their Pleas of ignoraunce refuse,
Mee thinkes that God, doth rule mee ore with this,
Non excusat, ignorantia iuris.
And thus I lye, with deadly sicknes pinde,
Yea more, my soule beseng'd, with sinnefull greefe,
The more I seeke, to pacifie my minde,
The further off, I (wretched) finde releefe,
My dealinges great, or rather great deceite,
Fall out folowde, as I no count can streight.
Yea more, my soule beseng'd, with sinnefull greefe,
The more I seeke, to pacifie my minde,
The further off, I (wretched) finde releefe,
My dealinges great, or rather great deceite,
Fall out folowde, as I no count can streight.
Do what I can, the cause that causde my ioy,
When fleshe, and bloud, was sedde with worldly gaine,
Is nowe the cause, that causeth my annoye,
Now feare of hell, in place of fleshe doth raigne,
The soule, and fleshe, impugnes the other so,
As what likes one, doth worke the others woe.
When fleshe, and bloud, was sedde with worldly gaine,
Is nowe the cause, that causeth my annoye,
Now feare of hell, in place of fleshe doth raigne,
The soule, and fleshe, impugnes the other so,
As what likes one, doth worke the others woe.
What meane wee then (sith th'one wee must displease,
To serue the flesh, that beares no lasting sway?
And leaue the soule, that couets still our ease,
Who (foyling flesh) in heauen doth liue for aye,
What worser match, can any creature make,
Incerta then, pro certis thus to take.
To serue the flesh, that beares no lasting sway?
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Who (foyling flesh) in heauen doth liue for aye,
What worser match, can any creature make,
Incerta then, pro certis thus to take.
O sinfull wreth, had I this ende foreseene,
I had not nowe, come short vpon account,
I would haue lik't, and lou'd the merrie meane,
Which euer doth, to reckoning best amount.
For violents, do sildome long indure,
They alwayes come, from fortune most vnsure.
I had not nowe, come short vpon account,
I would haue lik't, and lou'd the merrie meane,
Which euer doth, to reckoning best amount.
For violents, do sildome long indure,
They alwayes come, from fortune most vnsure.
O wicked man, had I seene heauen in thought,
Had I seru'd God, like as in shewe of zeale,
I had not thus, for poore mens liuings sought,
Nor purchast hell, for lande for others weale,
Had I well wayde, how tickle was my life,
I had ere this, appeasd my conscience strife.
Had I seru'd God, like as in shewe of zeale,
I had not thus, for poore mens liuings sought,
Nor purchast hell, for lande for others weale,
Had I well wayde, how tickle was my life,
I had ere this, appeasd my conscience strife.
Or had I thought, (O most vnhappie wight)
Looke what I gaue, that measure should I reape,
I sure had giuen, to euery man his right,
This wicked world, had not luld me asleape,
I had not then, bene carelesse of my end,
My soule had watcht, deathes furie to defend.
Looke what I gaue, that measure should I reape,
I sure had giuen, to euery man his right,
This wicked world, had not luld me asleape,
I had not then, bene carelesse of my end,
My soule had watcht, deathes furie to defend.
But (oh) in me, the contrarie was plaste,
I was intyste, on baytes of sinne to feede,
Which charm'd receits, seemde suger sweete in taste,
But (oh) they say, sweete meate sowre sauce doth neede,
Neede or not neede, I proue the prouerbe true,
My brittle ioyes, my endlesse woes do brue.
I was intyste, on baytes of sinne to feede,
Which charm'd receits, seemde suger sweete in taste,
But (oh) they say, sweete meate sowre sauce doth neede,
Neede or not neede, I proue the prouerbe true,
My brittle ioyes, my endlesse woes do brue.
My conscience loathes, what liked well my life,
My conscience rues, the gaine I got by guile,
My conscience feeles, the woes of wrangling strife
My conscience weepes, at that my life did smile,
My conscience bleedes, through that life thought a blisse,
My conscience wailes, what life thought not amisse.
My conscience rues, the gaine I got by guile,
My conscience feeles, the woes of wrangling strife
My conscience weepes, at that my life did smile,
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My conscience wailes, what life thought not amisse.
Well, sith my life, this wretched woe hath wrought,
Would God my life, (nay death through foule abuse)
Were noted so, as all men might be taught,
By scriptures rule, their talents here to vse,
And specially, about their studies wall,
For lawyers heed, would God were writ my fall.
Would God my life, (nay death through foule abuse)
Were noted so, as all men might be taught,
By scriptures rule, their talents here to vse,
And specially, about their studies wall,
For lawyers heed, would God were writ my fall.
Through sight whereof, no doubt they would refuse,
To fish for gaine, with nets of foule deceit,
To worke delayes, they would no pleadings vse,
They sure would thinke, they had account to straight,
My vexed mynde, at death still in their eye,
Would will them liue, as they did dayly dye.
To fish for gaine, with nets of foule deceit,
To worke delayes, they would no pleadings vse,
They sure would thinke, they had account to straight,
My vexed mynde, at death still in their eye,
Would will them liue, as they did dayly dye.
If to such good, my souden fall would proue,
Would life would last, to tell a larger tale,
But how it proue, in vaine for life I moue,
Death nowe assaults, and (wretched) I must vale,
My breath doth fade, the bell doth sound away.
From whence I came, I needes must turne to clay.
Would life would last, to tell a larger tale,
But how it proue, in vaine for life I moue,
Death nowe assaults, and (wretched) I must vale,
My breath doth fade, the bell doth sound away.
From whence I came, I needes must turne to clay.
| The Rocke of Regard | |