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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G. W. opinion of trades (as touching gaine) written
to his especiall friend, maister R. C.
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 | The Rocke of Regard |  |
G. W. opinion of trades (as touching gaine) written to his especiall friend, maister R. C.
Mine
owne good friend, since thou so faine wouldst know,
What kynde of trade, doth yeald the surest gaine,
My iudgement now, of some I meane to showe,
And after toyle, which quiteth best thy paine,
The merchant he, which cuts the mounting seas,
With course direct, as lyes his best auaile,
The Spanish marte, whose mynde sometime doth please,
With further reach, some hoyst their houering saile.
Some passe Marroccos straights, by painful toyle,
Some seeke to reape, the fruites of Ciprus soyle,
What kynde of trade, doth yeald the surest gaine,
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And after toyle, which quiteth best thy paine,
The merchant he, which cuts the mounting seas,
With course direct, as lyes his best auaile,
The Spanish marte, whose mynde sometime doth please,
With further reach, some hoyst their houering saile.
Some passe Marroccos straights, by painful toyle,
Some seeke to reape, the fruites of Ciprus soyle,
But how or where, they rome with oken blockes,
Their liues, their goods, doth rest in Neptunes handes,
In rage some times, who rolles them on the rockes,
Or driuen vnknowne, they sinke on Sillaes sandes,
The gotten gaine they lookt, thus haplesse lost,
In lue of toyle, themselues be quite vndone,
Now vnto him, which furrowes on the coast,
And hassard gaines, on waltering waues doth shun,
Who gropes the oxe, who sheares the sheepe for gaine,
Is often doust, with dewes of rotting raine.
Their liues, their goods, doth rest in Neptunes handes,
In rage some times, who rolles them on the rockes,
Or driuen vnknowne, they sinke on Sillaes sandes,
The gotten gaine they lookt, thus haplesse lost,
In lue of toyle, themselues be quite vndone,
Now vnto him, which furrowes on the coast,
And hassard gaines, on waltering waues doth shun,
Who gropes the oxe, who sheares the sheepe for gaine,
Is often doust, with dewes of rotting raine.
The handie craft, who wins his breade by toyle,
With sweate of browe, he gropes for others gaine,
He tylles the ground, he sowes with feede the soyle,
When others reape, the haruest of his paine,
To lodge the Lord, who buildes the stately hall,
Yet glad to couch, in cabben clad with reede,
For others ioy, who liues him selfe in thrall,
Who killes the sheepe, yet of the head doth heede,
His summers toyle, doth serue for winters store,
From hand to mouth, good soule he hath no more.
With sweate of browe, he gropes for others gaine,
He tylles the ground, he sowes with feede the soyle,
When others reape, the haruest of his paine,
To lodge the Lord, who buildes the stately hall,
Yet glad to couch, in cabben clad with reede,
For others ioy, who liues him selfe in thrall,
Who killes the sheepe, yet of the head doth heede,
His summers toyle, doth serue for winters store,
From hand to mouth, good soule he hath no more.
The captaine he, which climbes for high aduaunce,
By piercing blade, imbrude in enimies blood,
In martiall shewes, who formost leades the daunce,
His souldiers trainde, in warlike order good,
The pyke men plaste, to stay the horsemens rage,
The Musket wilde, aloofe, to souse them downe,
The byll men fresh, when handie stroakes must gage,
When gallants hauing charge, doth cry Aloun,
Then tantara, he bids in battell ray,
Be mearching mates, in hope of happie day,
By piercing blade, imbrude in enimies blood,
In martiall shewes, who formost leades the daunce,
His souldiers trainde, in warlike order good,
The pyke men plaste, to stay the horsemens rage,
The Musket wilde, aloofe, to souse them downe,
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When gallants hauing charge, doth cry Aloun,
Then tantara, he bids in battell ray,
Be mearching mates, in hope of happie day,
But when to ioyne, the bloudie trumpe doth sounde,
The horsemen fling, to breake the pikemens ray,
The roaring gunnes, doth terrifie the grounde,
The feathred flightes, the enimies face doth fray,
The currier swift, doth rid the skonce of ake,
With streames of bloud, the ioyning vallies flowes,
And wounded wightes, for life their heeles doth shake,
Who scapeth then, next brunt may go to pot,
Thus daungerous standes, the souldier state God wot.
The horsemen fling, to breake the pikemens ray,
The roaring gunnes, doth terrifie the grounde,
The feathred flightes, the enimies face doth fray,
The currier swift, doth rid the skonce of ake,
With streames of bloud, the ioyning vallies flowes,
And wounded wightes, for life their heeles doth shake,
Who scapeth then, next brunt may go to pot,
Thus daungerous standes, the souldier state God wot.
The courtier nowe, which hops vp by degree,
And haply heau'd, to heigth of high renowne,
If he do swerue, from top of tickle tree,
His courtly friends, will helpe to throwe him downe,
Who fawned earst, then wrayes the forme of hate,
(He honourd late) nowe glad to crouch and creepe,
Yet Enuie vile, with spite and foule debate,
So wreastes his guilt, that grace doth alwayes sleepe,
Expence and toyle, is guerdond with disdaine,
A bare reward, in recompence of paine.
And haply heau'd, to heigth of high renowne,
If he do swerue, from top of tickle tree,
His courtly friends, will helpe to throwe him downe,
Who fawned earst, then wrayes the forme of hate,
(He honourd late) nowe glad to crouch and creepe,
Yet Enuie vile, with spite and foule debate,
So wreastes his guilt, that grace doth alwayes sleepe,
Expence and toyle, is guerdond with disdaine,
A bare reward, in recompence of paine.
The clowne doth clawe, more coyne out of the ground,
Then he whose skill, doth reach the state of starres,
Of yore though men, though learning were renound,
Wealth with those wits, is nowe at mortall warres,
By Physickes arte to credite many mount,
Where lacke of [illeg.], doth murther many one,
A sorrie trust, tyde to so hard acount,
To lende him pence, that payes the death for lone,
And yet no doubt, his gaine is gauld with griefe,
When conscience his, doth call him murdring theefe.
Then he whose skill, doth reach the state of starres,
Of yore though men, though learning were renound,
Wealth with those wits, is nowe at mortall warres,
By Physickes arte to credite many mount,
Where lacke of [illeg.], doth murther many one,
A sorrie trust, tyde to so hard acount,
To lende him pence, that payes the death for lone,
And yet no doubt, his gaine is gauld with griefe,
When conscience his, doth call him murdring theefe.
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Great be the rents, the Clergie doth receiue,
More great their charge, the count if conscience take,
If errours their, the simple doth deceiue,
For both their misse, amendes their soules shall make,
This desperate cure, agrees not with my minde,
Although the gaine, doth tempt my greedie thought,
If so it be, that mystes of feaude doth blynde,
Or falshood faith, from former grace hath wrought,
If trades of gaine, be spyste, with deepe deceit,
The Lawyers hooke, tyes hid in sweetest bayte.
More great their charge, the count if conscience take,
If errours their, the simple doth deceiue,
For both their misse, amendes their soules shall make,
This desperate cure, agrees not with my minde,
Although the gaine, doth tempt my greedie thought,
If so it be, that mystes of feaude doth blynde,
Or falshood faith, from former grace hath wrought,
If trades of gaine, be spyste, with deepe deceit,
The Lawyers hooke, tyes hid in sweetest bayte.
It choketh fooles, which hunger after strife,
Suppose that craft, doth sore abuse his skill,
He sleas the purse, the others soule and life,
By learnings lacke, and error oft doth kill,
He roystes in sylkes, which merchants fetch a far,
Him glad to please, the simple soule doth moyle,
His sugred charme, witch Angels to the bar,
His piercing pen, the souldier oft both foyle,
For solace sake, if he will to the court,
If any be, he soone shall see the sport.
Suppose that craft, doth sore abuse his skill,
He sleas the purse, the others soule and life,
By learnings lacke, and error oft doth kill,
He roystes in sylkes, which merchants fetch a far,
Him glad to please, the simple soule doth moyle,
His sugred charme, witch Angels to the bar,
His piercing pen, the souldier oft both foyle,
For solace sake, if he will to the court,
If any be, he soone shall see the sport.
He little weyes, so lawe be on his side,
The thundring threates, which Lordly might doth moue,
If that his cause, with countrie men be tride,
More harts he hath, for feare then they for loue,
He often pulles, a personage from the priest,
And ouerrules, by lawe, both might and right,
A kildowe sure, whom no man dare resist,
Godshield, that I with such a king should fight:
And thus thou hearst, of trades what I can say,
The lawe for gaine, doth beare the bell away.
The thundring threates, which Lordly might doth moue,
If that his cause, with countrie men be tride,
More harts he hath, for feare then they for loue,
He often pulles, a personage from the priest,
And ouerrules, by lawe, both might and right,
A kildowe sure, whom no man dare resist,
Godshield, that I with such a king should fight:
And thus thou hearst, of trades what I can say,
The lawe for gaine, doth beare the bell away.
Formæ nulla fides.
| The Rocke of Regard | |