Of Golds Kingdome, and This Vnhelping Age :: :: University of Virginia Library

Of Golds Kingdome, and This Vnhelping Age

Described in sundry Poems intermixedly placed after certaine other Poems of more speciall respect: And before the same is an Oration or speech intended to haue bene deliuered by the Author hereof unto the Kings Maiesty [by Edward Hake]

Hake, Edward (fl. 1560-1604)

[epigraph]

[dedication]

[section]

The Authors Prologue to such of his Poems in this booke as concerne Golds Kingdome.

HVMBLE PETITIONS OF GOOD SVBIECTS TO THEIR GOOD KING against the Parliament.

The Subiects loue is the riches and safety of the King.

Another notable example of integritie in a Prince.

A Case of Difficultie in the Royall Administration.

The infortunate Courtier.

Three things very grieuous to good mindes.

Of true Nobilitie.

To the most reuerend and right Honourable, the Primate of all England.

The Iudge must be truthes Patron.

A Caueat to peremptory speaking Lawyers.

To Astilius Regius the learned & highly imployed Lawyer.

Of the most commendable and honourable gouernement of the City of London, in the late times of the sicknesse and decease of the most gracious and renowmed Queene Elizabeth.

No gold no goodnesse.

The same of this vnhelpping Age.

The same complaining of his want of friends.

[Be drouping N. and die my dearest friend]

Trust to thy selfe and not to thy friends nor kinsfolkes.

The dolorous man being still crossed in his estate bewaileth his mishaps.

Of dissembling friends.

A carefull Debtor.

Of one neere dead through thought.

The liberall mans Expostulation with Golde.

The Golden Swaggerer.

To all Worthy and well deseruing Souldiers.

Though wit be the woer, Yet gold is the speeder.

A Sale of Sinne.

A Memoriall of the worthy and Right Worshipfull Gentleman, Richard Louelace, late of Hurley, in the County of Berke, Esquire, Liefetenant of the Castle and Forrest of Windsor.

To a foule and common swearer.

To a Common Lyer.

To an olde man loosely liuing.

A liuely description of Ingratitude by a Fable of a Serpent and a way-faring man.

Mediocria firma, with aduice to Constancie.

A returne to Golde.

To the Right VVorshipfull and of high deseruing Sir Iulius Cæsar Knight, one of the Maisters of the Requests to the Kings Maiestie.

The Author.

Collapse All | Expand All expand section

The Authors Prologue to such of his Poems in this booke as concerne Golds Kingdome.

Although that Gold can closely creepe
where th'aire could neuer come,
And cause that vice and vertue be
of equall poise with some,
Yet noble and true gentle minds
with Gold will not be won,
To do the thing that is vniust
or leaue good things vndone.
A proofe hereof me selfe haue seene
in one that noble is,
And holdeth place of high respect
as he well worthy is:
A poore man with Petition
annexed to his case
To him repaires, not hauing helpe
of any friend in place:
Which when he had exhibited,
although that noble man
Had great imployments of the State
yet marke what followd than:
Not full two dayes expyrd, before
the poore man did receaue
An Answer to his full content,
And thence did take his leaue,
Not rendring gifts to any one
nor Secretaries fees,
But hasting home vnto his Hiue,
reioyced with his Bees.
A yeare thence after, troubles came
about that passed gift,
As that some sought to frustrate it
by friends or fained shift.
The poore man for his helpe againe
preferreth his complaint,
And by his onely writing doth
that Lord therewith acquaint,
Himselfe vnable through disease
in person to be seene.

This noble man, as if the case
had then like present bene,
What he had passed carst before,
Confirmes with greater force:
Right noble surely was this deed
and full of true remorse.
Yea, as before, no peny went
out of the poore mans purse,
So now againe, no peny he
to any did disburse.
Patron to pupils is that Lord,
(so doth his office lie)
Amongst whose vertuous deedes this one,
the poore mans case did try.
And sith that I an Actor was
to pen that poore mans case,
I therefore write it as a note
of vertue in that place.
The rather, for because this Age
vnhelping is, and why?
Few men will helpe in cases where
they see no profit lie.
So that to speake what I conceiue,
I feare, no Gold, no Good,
No, not perhaps for such as haue
aduentured their bloud.
And for the man at home, who hath
of good deseruing bene,
Nor workes nor worth can him aduance
if Gold come not betweene:
For now, as good to beate the ayre
as fill the eares of some
Who Sutes preferre: Nay, fill their hands,
else looke to find them Mum.
Yet write I not with mind to touch
men of superiour place:
Nor do I know particulers
that any should deface.
Many complaine and many cry:
God knoweth where the fault doth lie.

HVMBLE PETITIONS OF GOOD SVBIECTS TO THEIR GOOD KING against the Parliament.

Confirme Religion as the Arke of God:
Preserue the places where the same shall rest:
Then lawes for life, and maners as the Rod,
Wherewith offence of Sinne must be supprest,
So shall the land assuredly be blest.
But firie Spirits are not for that charge,
Nor such as seeke their profits to enlarge.

Next, for the Common-wealth (as is begun)
Take off oppressions from the Subiects backe,
And to the Commons do not alwayes runne
For euery thing that Common-wealth doth lacke,
For so poore Subiects still shall go to wracke,
And yet must Subiects Cæsars duties pay:
No faithfull Subiect will thereof say nay.

As for the Lawyers faults and griefes thereby,
The peoples plaints suffice to make them knowne,
And how huge monstrous fees on Suters lye,
Which Officers and Clarkes claime as their owne:

But if you aske quo iure they are growne,
The man (say they) must sell who first did buy:
A case to be redrest as cause shall lie.

In briefe, the sores and sicknesses that are
In Englands state, which grieued men will shew
In Parliament, will moue the Princes care
To finde the fountaines whence the same doe flow,
And fountaines found, to purge them all arow.
The God of heauen preserue our blessed King,
That he to Church and Realme true peace may bring.

Astra Deo nil maius habent, Nil Cæsare Terra:
Sic Cæsar Terras, vt Deus Astra regat.

The Subiects loue is the riches and safety of the King.

It is recorded in this wise:
At Wormes a Germaine Towne,
When all the Princes there were met
And all were sitten downe

To talke of matters of the State
At length they tooke in hand,
Each one to praise and to extoll
The goodnesse of his land.

Bauaria Dukes their Cities praysde,
The Saxons praysd their Mines,
Duke Palatine his fertile Soyles
And fatnesse of his vines.

Duke Eberard of Wittenberg,
Who likewise was in place,
And silent sate by Fredericke,
Who had the Soueraigne grace.

As Saxon Duke required was
To tell his Countries praise:
And he obeying modestly,
(As loath himselfe to raise)

My Lords (sayd he) tis nothing that
By me can be declarde,
Who am the lowest in this place
And might full well be sparde:

Nathlesse this one thing do I know,
And knowing, do protest
That I in any Subiects lap
Of mine can take my rest,
Although in open fields from prease:
Whereby our mutuall loues increase.

Another notable example of integritie in a Prince.

And hath not Iames our Englands King
Shewd forth like Princely mind,

Who farmes of fines and forfeitures,
Which Subiects backes did grinde,

With Monopolyes, lycences
And priuiledges large,
Whereby he might haue bene enricht
(Though to his Subiects charge)

Hath royally released from
His English Subiects backes,
Not minding to enrich himselfe
By his poore Subiects wrackes?
What good so great hath earst bene done,
As by King Iames is now begun.

A Case of Difficultie in the Royall Administration.

Great Difficultie may be found in this
Vnto the Prince, where Subiects doe complaine
Of any that in office doth amisse,
As that percase he should some wrong maintaine:
For as the Prince is bound to aide the right,
Without respect of any Subiects might,

So, meete it is that where he giueth power,
He should support the same, and still vphold
Th' authorized for why? Else euery houre
Th'vprightest men, and men of purest molde
Might be traduced, and besides, his Grace
Would be surchargd with plaints in euery place.

Then what to write, or speake in such a case,
Few men can tell, but fewer will (I feare)
Th'inferiour once offended, will deface
Superiours, and such as office beare:
Againe, the mighty they are full of friends,
And as friends be, so oft the matter endes.

Put case the King vpon complaint preferd
Against the mighty, by the lower sort,
Of his great grace should cause to be referd

Referments of causes dangerous.

The in-sight of such plaints to men of Port:
Say that the mighty with the mighty hold,
So that to aide the poore none durst be bold.

What should then here be done, can any tell?
Th'inferiour he goes downe. But is that all?
No, no, hee's blamde because he durst to mell
With such as on the earth men Gods do call.
O case of cases to be seene into,
Which doth concerne the Prince what he should do.

And sith a wiser Prince this land nere had,
Nor better bent to heare the poore mans cry,
What needes my pen thus moue a case so sad?
His Highnesse knowes where all the helpe doth lye:
For least the matter should so go awry,
His grace himselfe must helpe, or else perhaps
The poore Complainant shall feele after claps.

Iames the fift of that name King of Scotland, Graund-father to our most gracious King, was called the Poore mans King.

The infortunate Courtier.

Two Courtiers liuing long at Court,
The one of good desert,
The other meanely meriting,
Yet (vt fortuna fert)

The meaner had the better lucke,
By th'emprour well aduanst,
Which to the other brought great griefe:
But marke ye how it chanst,

The noble Sigismundus he
(So was the Emperour nam'd)
Enformed of this matter, and
How he was onely blam'd,

As not to beare an equall hand
In giuing of reward,
Aduis'd himselfe thereof, and with
A Princely due regard

For answering of the matter, did
Resolue vpon this course:
Two chists he fild, the one with gold,
The other, stones or worse.

And calling for the Courtier which
Had found himselfe so grieu'd,
Declared vnto him that now
His case might be relieu'd.

If Fortune were not in the fault:
Choose here (sayd he) of two,
A chist of gold, or one of stones,
And thinke well what to do,

For I'le be henceforth quite of blame,
(The fault thou sayst is mine)
And if thou choose the stones, then say
The fault is rather thine,

Or if not thine, yet Fortunes fault:
And who can that redresse?
The Courtier chose, and chose the stones:
(Alas, vnluckinesse.)

But shall I say my mind herein?
Good Kings will haue respect,
Whom they aduance, whom they reward,
And whom they do reiect.

For why? All's one to raise the ill,
And not to helpe the honest still.

Three things very grieuous to good mindes.

Three things there are that breed much griefe,
And discontent of mind:
The worlds mishaps, vntrust of friends,
The third, that Gold doth bind,

Nay binde and loose, though not with all,
yet greatly with the most:
And for the first of these three things,
what man on earth can boast

That he hath past his dayes in peace,
not crost with worlds missehap?
Not one I thinke, though best men most
doe taste of sorrowes sap.

The King hath cares to crosse his ioyes,
home strises to crosse his peace,
And traytrous harts conspire his hurts,
while Subiects loues increase.

If pleasures for his health he take,
what interruptions are
Vnto his pleasures and disportes
by suites, that breede his care

In causes of his Subiects states,
perhaps their liues and lands:
The strong doth still oppresse the weake,
the help's in Princes hands.

Yea day by day occasions rise
of common wealthes redresse,
And day by day abuses grow,
which Princes should suppresse.

And yet if Princes should not haue
their pleasures and delight.

Alas, alas, what were their case?
of all men worst in sight:

Onely the King that feareth God,
and seekes to spread his prayse
Shall haue his seat and State securde,
his soule shall see good daies.

Then if the King in this worlds course,
where all men him obay,
Findes worlds vnrest, of lower States
how firme can be the stay?

Next for the faith and trust of friends,
where is the friend whose faith
As well in hard as happy state
in friendship firmly stayth?

Swallowes men are, whose Sommers glee
retaines in friendships band,
And Winters woes driue cleane away:
So doth mens friendship stand.

Examples hereof infinite
the world doth dayly show,
And how mens loues are wrongly plac'd
and from wrong causes grow:

For were true vertue their loues cause,
then what could it remoue?
No, no, tis gaine, or vaine respect,
that most where causeth loue:

The rich holds friendship with the rich,
the lecher with his like,
And pot-companions with their mates
great league of friendship strike.

Blind Zeale also to maintaine Sects,
and to impugne the truth,
Doth lincke it selfe in friendships bands:
but what thereof ensu'th?

Disturbance of the Churches peace,
contempt of King and law,
And all that with such friends is found,
is onely to withdrawe

From vniforme consent of faith,
and from true seruing God:
O, out, alas, what loue is this?
Such league from loue is od.

The third and last is sway of Gold,
which so still hinders all
That to the well deseruing man
should for his Guerdon fall,

As that no gifts of learning, nor
of skill which in him are,
Can do him good, because perhaps
his state is something bare.

Fayre speach and sugred words are rife,
but if thy state be poore,

While others prease and come in place,
looke thou to stand at doore.

Ist office that thou seekest friend?
why offices are bought:
An Office is a Nemo scit,
and should it come for nought?

But be it small or great that thou
doest labour to obtaine:
Assure thy selfe that if there be
therein a sent of gaine,

Though nere so small, and yet perhaps
the matter full of toyle,
Vnlesse with gifts thou get thee friends,
be sure to catch the foyle:

For if thou stand vpon desert,
thou maist put vp thy pipes:
There is a fellow calde Giffe Gaffe,
that in such cases gripes.

And so we see that Gold and gifts
In suites must doe the deede,
And how that no man for desert
of anything can speede.

Audacious proud, and flattering mates
I graunt you may doe much;
And many things of good respect
are oft bestowd on such.

Againe, we see that some there are,
who willingly are led
By men of slender gifts: And why?
because by them are fed

The humors whereunto they be
enclined, and most what
For that they please them with delights,
and seruile are to that.

And sooner will they giue to those,
Then vnto men of price.
If such one aske, he straight way speedes,
and hath it with a trice.

But if I should runne ouer all
that might be said in this,
How Gold hath Soueraigne power in sutes,
and chiefe effecter is

Of mens desires, and that desert
(as of it selfe) shall fayle,
I might imploy much speech therein,
And little should preuaile:

For howsoeuer men of place
and honour are enclinde
To further and promote a man
that is of honest mind,

Yet are the meanes so difficult
that must be made to such,

And fauorites so many that
therein doth looke for much,

As that a man farre better were
to liue with bread and grew,
Then with a thrid-bare purse to seeke
or for preferment sew.

And so I end my dolefull song
of threefold griefe and paine,
As worlds vnrest, next, friends vntrust,
the third, that all's for gaine.

Of true Nobilitie.

Of true Nobilitie doe we enquire?
Tis that that doth excell the common sort
In vertuous Actes whereto it doth aspire,
And shewes it selfe abroad with noble port:
For noble port must shew the noble State,
It fits not Noble minds to be at common rate.

But what for that? doth Noble therefore wrong?
Doth he oppresse or seeke a common hurt,
Whereby to raise himselfe or make him strong?
No fye, the Noble reckons that as durt:
For as the world is cheered by the Sunne,
So from true Noble comforts daily runne.

Doth Countries seruice call the Noble forth?
Most what he is prepared for the same,
For that's a meane to shew his noble worth:

And that accomplisht wins him noble fame.
To God, to King, and Countrey is he chargde
To see the Honour of them all enlargde.

Is noble neere the King? who else should be?
Then nobly doth he seruice to his Grace,
As both his honour and his safety to foresee,
For which his eyes are open in each place,
Detracting none that are of good desart,
But helping all out of a noble hart:

And chiefly vnto suters doth he show
A noble affabilitie, and why?
Because from Prince, as from a spring doth flow
The Subiects helpe, which helples else might lye:
Then if this Noble keepe poore suters backe,
Vnnobly doth he cause poore suters wracke,

And to proceede, doth he in Countrey dwell?
No partie factions doth he there support,
Much lesse, prepareth plots how to rebell,
Nor graceth any of suspected sort.
But honours law, and Iudges doth assist,
And makes not law to serue him as he list.

To the most reuerend and right Honourable, the Primate of all England.

True Paterne of pietie, with true hearts good will
My pen doth presume to speake of thy grace

Whose vertues and goodnesse right well do fulfill
The honour and greatnesse that is in thy place,
Gladnesse of conscience may thee imbrace,
Whose zeale hath beene peacefull with censures discreet,
Whose life hath beene blamelesse with doctrine to meete.

Pride sitting below thee in enuious chayre,
Doth swell at thy greatnesse, yet faine would be great:
And Momus the wretch that all would impaire,
His head about mischiefe and malice doth beate,
But care of the truth shall stablish thy seate.
Thus vertues regard hath imployed my pen,
Not Monies reward, nor pleasing of men.

The Iudge must be truthes Patron.

The Iudge that sitteth on the bench
to iudge of wrong and right,
Should haue the high Tribunall seate
prefigur'd in his sight,

Least that the Lawyer with his skill
and argument preparde
Well sounding to the sense of man,
and subtilly declarde

Should haue the hap to harbour in
his well entending brest,
Where nought but truth, and truthes defence
for euermore should rest.

For this is sure, that some there are
in this our learned age,
Whose force is great with wit to win
the iudgement of the sage:

Then ought this rule be alwayes held
in all iudiciall things,
That neither Arte, nor lawes dispute
which learned Lawyer brings,

Doe draw a present iudgement on
in question of the law:
For sudden iudgements oftentimes
may from the truth withdraw.

And (Lord) how grieuous were the case,
if goods were lost, or lands
Vpon a point of lawes dispute
which argumentiue stands,

Without well ripping vp the same
with due and deepe regard,
Foreseeing that the Princes case
in iudgement be not sparde?

As (for the purpose) were it thus:
A Statute law there is
Of Chauntries (so entituled)
whereon the case be this:

A man giues lands to one by Will,
he finding euermore

A yeerely Obite for the soules
of some deceast before,

And paying for that Obites charge
a certaine yerely summe,
And for default thereof a paine
out of those lands to come.

Admitting also that the lands
of greater valewar,
Besides Reprises of the same
then th' Obites charges far,

Then say those lands are claymed for
the King in this degree,
As that the vse thereof by lawe
should superstitious be:

Although I take not on me to
affyrme how it should go,
Yet this I say, that if such case
should into question gro,

I haue heard of such a case in question at this day, and that it is of no lesse importance to the subiect the defendant then is here mentioned.

For that the wait thereof perhaps
vnto the subiect may
Be such as that those lands in sute
are his all only stay:

And eke for that the Lawyers skill
in case of Lawes dispute,
Is leuelled to win the cause
and to obtaine the sute

Vpon the side he is retaind,
and not to bend the same
For Rights defence (for so perdy
his Client might him blame)

VVhat neede then hath this case of ours
of Iudges holy aide,
As by the which full oft and oft
the Right had neede be swaid?

For howsoeuer counsaile vrge
the matter for the king,
The Iudge hath his respect to Right
as to the chiefest thing.

And as for Coplatiues and Disiunctiues
in Willes, why should they sway?
For as the Sunne shines not by night
as it doth by the day:

So men in sicknes haue not sense
as in their health they haue:
Sunne setting bringeth darknes, and
sense faileth at the graue.

Againe, should points or periods
destroy a Subiects state?
The King himselfe seekes no mans land
at such an easie rate.

Especially, if there haue bin
like cases formerly

Adiudgde for Subiects: but for that
Let Law such matters try:

My speech is not to preiudice
The Iudgements of the Graue:
I, as a meane Professor speake
The knowledge that I haue,

Submitting all that I haue sayd
Concerning point of Law
To such, as from whose learned Breasts
My learning I must draw.

For were the foresayd case mine owne,
My minds resolue should be
To take in worth what ere fell out,
Wer't good or ill for me,

And to returne where I began:
The Iudge that hath Gods Seate,
Protects the Right while Lawyers heads
Vpon preuailings beate.
I honour Iudges from my heart,
And loue all Lawyers of desert,

A Caueat to peremptory speaking Lawyers.

And dost thou speake (friend Faber) for thy fee?
Speake not with mind to beare the matter downe:
Thinke not that Law should come from none but thee,

For many a one that weares a thridbare gowne,
Although his gift be not in speaking well,
Yet may his iudgement many times excell.

To Astilius Regius the learned & highly imployed Lawyer.

Svch gifts of skill as few men apprehend,
Must needes be great to dignifie the man,
To whom it pleaseth God such gifts to lend,
Though but one gift: If so, what say we then
Where sundry gifts of equall great degree
In one selfe person well conioyned be?

Lawes knowledge of it selfe withouten more
Hath made some great, yet not without desart.
And hath it so? what say we then to store
Of Lawes great skill, and depth of learned Art?
I say that he in whom such gifts are found,
Is great by Right vpon true Reasons ground:
Such one are you: O still, then still abound in righteousnesse.

Of the most commendable and honourable gouernement of the City of London, in the late times of the sicknesse and decease of the most gracious and renowmed Queene Elizabeth.

Feare , horror, trembling, and dismay of heart
Were each where seene vpon reports that went
That our late Queene lay sicke. O dreadfull smart
Redoubled still as new reports were sent.
Most men to flit and chaunge their soiles were bent,
But where to seate or where to be secure,
Alas, alas, no casting could procure.

The vpland man, thought safest in the Towne,
The townes man thought him best that was at large,
And he that earst sate warme in long surd gowne,
Could well haue brookt the steering of a barge.
Not one of other then would take the charge,
But each suspecting other, all dismayd,
Not for defence, but for destruction stayd.

O London then (to thy still lasting same)
So prudently thy Gouernement was set,
As that how euer newes then went and came,
Nought could thy graue foresight or compasse let
Wisedome and courage so in thee were met,
As that the Peacefull had his quiet rest,
And few men feard that they should be opprest.

No troupes by day nor lurkings in the night
Could gather head, but streight they were descryde:
Each officer so held his course aright,
As that no doubtfull person durst abide..
And for the care that was at water-side,
It was to all great ioy to vnderstand
What rules were there for setting men on land.

In fine, when certainty of death was knowne
Of her our Queene, did hurly burly rise?
No none at all: A bud then straight way blowne
On selfe same Stalke did London well suffice
To measure all things with an vpright Size.
The keyes were kept for him who did succeed,
And nought was heard that discrepance might breed.

Then I as one partaker of that Good,
Who with my wife and family did stay
Within the City where I vnderstood
Th' occurrents of those times and Cities sway,
Found cause of sweete content whereas I lay,
Obseruing there the orders of that place,
Which with my heart I highly did imbrace.

No gold no goodnesse.

O Gold that goest in and out,
That rul'st and raignest at thy will,
O thou that bringest things about,
Why art thou absent from vs still?
But O our God, O where art thou
That suffrest Gold to conquer now?

You earthly men who vnto men
Nought giue where you can nothing take,
I speake to you, regard me then,
Your Gold and Goods your God you make:
For where as Gold is, you are won,
But where Gold is not, you haue done.

Be honest, learned, skilfull, wise,
Be what thou canst, if Gold thou want,
Thou maist he still, thou shalt not rise,
For nothing proues where Gold is skant:
For Gold it is that doth the deed,
But nothing prospers where is need.

What, shall I then lie downe and die?
Alas I cannot when I would:
Or shall I sit me downe and crie
And with my teares my griefe vnfold?
Lament and crie, do what thou wilt,
Thy cause is lost for lacke of Gilt.

Yet say I not that all men looke
To be rewarded for their deed:
But this I say, that few men brooke
To helpe a man that is in need:
For though he write with Homers inke,
Yet go he shall before he drinke.

The same of this vnhelpping Age.

Where is the man on whom thou mayst depend
To worke thy good or to assist thee so,
As by his helpe thou mayst thy state amend,
(Though by thy owne desert?) Not one I tro.
In words theile giue thee (yea) In deedes still (No)
My selfe haue had the proofe with men of choise,
Who wisht me euer well, but all in voyce:

For when it came to proofe, to write or speake
In matters which themselues thought good and right,
Good Lord, how were those friends of mine growne weake
And how small ioy tooke they of me the sight?
If twere a matter for me to endite,
I could report hereof a tedious Tale
And yet the morall might be worth the sale:

But this (in somme) I say and make it knowne,
That if my case require more helpe then view,
Except I giue, or can, I looke for none:
For if thou stand vpon desert, Adieu:
Marke well my speech, for thou shalt find it true,
This age affoordeth naught but words and wind,
The rich shall be preferd, The poore shall stay behind.

[Be drouping N. and die my dearest friend]

Droupe and die, Looke vp and liue.

Be drouping N. and die my dearest friend:
For who regardeth him whose ioyes do end?
Looke vp and liue, make shew of greatest store:
If litle thou possesse, make shew of more:
Be modest, simple, bashfull in thy deed,
Assure thy selfe of nothing thou shalt speed:
But stout vaunt parler stirring in the State
Will haue his passage through a Princely Gate.

Answer.

Ah God my God, and must it needes be thus?
Will nothing come by plaine and simple course?
Must Nature change her selfe and loose her Ius?
Must humble mind be proud? Nay (which is worse)
Must vertue seruile be to stalcke vpon the Stage?
Ah Lord my God, how grieuous is this Age?
Ile neuer liue to make such fained showes:
Ile rather liue where peace of Conscience growes.

Natura pauca, opinio multa requirit.

Trust to thy selfe and not to thy friends nor kinsfolkes.

The mother Larke that neasted on the ground
With all her Brats her litle birds about her,
Abroad she flew where victuals might be found,
But ere she went, because she aid wisdoubt her
That in her absence some thing might be sayd
For cutting downe the Corne wherein she stayd,

She therefore thus gan speake vnto them all,
My birds (quoth she) this crop doth ripe apace
And in mine eye doth for the reapers call,
Who when they come will you and me displace,
And more then that, our liues will they inuade
Vnlesse in time we seeke some other glade:

And yet to leaue our soyle before we need,
Full loath I am: my mind therefore is this,
That when you heare the owner come, take heed
What words be speakes and what appointed is
For felling of this field, the time and maner how,
Looke well vntoat, and so I leaue you now.

No sooner gone, but comes the Farmer thither,
And thus he spake aloud vnto his man:
Sirha (sayd he) you see this goodly weather
Get reapers go, with all the speed you can.
I trow my neighbours will not say me nay:
Request them all and tell me what they say:

The selfe same night when mother Larke came in,
The silly birds with low and fearefull voyce
Related all: Tust, tush (quoth she) a pin,
If maister Farmer make no better choise
Then neighbours helpe, this field will not go downe,
Neighbours will helpe themselues throughout the Towne.

Next morning when she was to go againe,
The like precept and charge she left behind:
At noone the owner came, but all in vaine,
His neigbours Sycles no where could he find.
All chafing then, he cald vnto his man
Who sayd that they would come, but knew not whan.

Well well (quoth she) Ile trust no Neighbours aide,
Go now to such my Cosins and my Kin:
I know with them this matter will be waide:
And here to morrow let them all begin.
This fearefull Summons when the Dam returnd,
The litle Larkes declard, and then they mournd.

Not this (quoth she) as yet shall make vs flie:
Will kinsfolkes helpe? No no the'yle helpe themselues,
And therefore yet a while here will we lie.
Cease therefore cease your moane you whimpring elues
And marke to morrow when he comes againe
What he giues forth and how he doth complaine.

The morow came, and (as he did before)
The owner of the field returnd, and finding none
About the Corne, Lord how he swet and swore
For being told of kins excuse, and how each one

Was faint and cold and stoode vpon delay,
He fumde and fretted, and in fine did say.

That he no longer neighbours, kinred, nor
Ought saue himselfe thenceforth would trust vnto:
And therefore now (quoth he) to cure this dor,
Do thou therein as I shall bid thee do:
To morow morning call my men togither
And with their Haruest weapons bring them hither.

Those newes at night when Beldam came to neast,
The birds did tell as they had done before:
Yea now (quoth she) this matter is increast,
For after this, delayes must be no more:
This night with speed we must go change our seate
And so she did with paines and trauell great.

And now to shew the morall of this tale,
As Larke that neasted in anothers ground,
Not fenst about with hedge, nor ditch nor pale
Did yet abide a twise most dolefull sound
Of kin and neighbours comming to the place,
But when she saw that altred was the case,

As that the Owner of the field would come,
Or send his seruants on the morow day,
Then thought she time to leaue that borrowd roome
And with her young ones thence to packe away:
Such is the case of all men that do lay
Their hope of helpe in kinred or in frend,
For such a one lies helples in the end.

The dolorous man being still crossed in his estate bewaileth his mishaps.

Drooping and dying in depth of dispaire,
Wasted and wearied with sorrow and smart,
Pinched and pained in pencifull chaire,
Yet dare not discouer the thoughts of my heart.
To keepe them or shew them brings griefe alike to me,
To keepe or to shew them alike doth vndo me.

O dayes full of dolor, O nights of vnrest,
O times full of trouble, O seasons vnkind,
If ought could he added, or ought be decreast,
Then might there be hope some comfort to find:
But resolute Ruine still standing at doore,
Death cannot haue entrance nor life be secure.

O God if thou dost it to punish my Sinne,
I am thy poore seruant, the worke of thy hand:
All fraile and vnstable without and within,
Vnable without thee one houre to stand,
But sith thou hast promist to helpe where is need,
Lord, keepe thou thy promise, and helpe me with speed.

Thou knowst what I lacke, thou knowst what I aile,
O Father of mercy, O Fountaine of Grace,
Sith none that hath sought thee, did euer yet faile,
Lord, let not me onely be thrust out of place:
But looke thou on me as thou lookest on all,
And helpe thy poore Seruant that lieth in thrall.

I graunt, of my merites I may be ashamed:
Not mercy but iudgement doth fit my desert
My life hath bene loose, my thoughts all vntamed,
And what so was holy, that did I peruert,
Not therefore for me, but for thy name sake
Vouchsafe me thy mercy my sorrow to slake.

Of dissembling friends.

Well spake that chosen of the Lord
Who viewing friends by proofe,
Compared those that in our woes
and sorowes stand aloofe,

To water brookes, whose moysture Heate
in Sommer dryes to nought
And winters Frost likewise suckes vp
When helpe thereof is sought.

Contrariwise, in time of Raine
When each small pit is full,
Then flow they fast and send forth store
each hollow gappe to gull.

A carefull Debtor.

I Liue in debt; yet loue not to do so,
I pay no debt, but not because I would not:
Tis debts disease that breeacth all my woe,
It kils my heart (alas) because I could not.
But hence I go to seeke some change of soyle
Whereby to pay my debt with bodies toyle.

Of one neere dead through thought.

Thought is a secret that doth kill
And with the dead it selfe doth die
As with his ruine Sampson fill
Himselfe and all with him perdie,
And is not my poore case much nye,
Neere dead through Thought both Thought and I?

I Thought no Thought could haue preuaild
Against my cheerefull minde,
But cross with crosse hath so assaild,
That now not so I finde:
For Thought is come and ioy is gone,
The body pines and death drawes on.

The liberall mans Expostulation with Golde.

Were my desier to hoerd thee in my chist,
Or wisht I thee to feede my lustfull paunch,
Or that by thee I might do what I list,
And into seas of banefull pleasures launch,
Or were my minde to lash thee out in lawe,
By brabling suites which all good things withdrawe:

Then hadst thou (Gold) good cause to shunne my sight,
And keepe thy presence from my longing eye:

But sith in seeking thee my Thoughts goe right,
Why should'st thou then disdaine my Thoughts to trye?
Beleeue me as thou list, this is my mind:
If thou make choyce of me, the poore shall finde

Not peny helpe, or slender almes at doore,
But pounds of aide, if need shall so require:
A full reliefe Ile giue vnto the poore.
My needy friend shall haue his harts desire,
And eu'ry case that helplesse lyes for Golde
Shall haue my sure support as powre can hold.

To Booke-men wanting meanes, both hands shall giue:
The vnprouided Preacher sound of life
Shall finde how far my zeale my purse can driue,
But not to nourish Sects, or maintaine strife.
In summe, what good so'ere thou Gold canst do,
My hand shall not withhold my helpe thereto:
But here I cease, least thou should'st thinke I woo
thee with my wordes.

The Golden Swaggerer.

Crownes , Crownes, cries Swaggerer: Then healthes are had
Of soundest liquor that those Crownes can finde,
It bootes not then to tell him he is mad.
His heads chiefe care is how himselfe to blinde,
Great suppers then so soone as he hath dinde:
And late at night new banquets are preparde,
So rundell-wise his Crownes he doth discarde,

Not to aduance his state perdy: But how

To glut himselfe with pleasures long desirde.
He sowes no seede, though deepe he sets his Plow,
But downe he sinkes vntill his feete be mirde,
And fast he stickes when he should be retirde:
Then Gold, what goodnesse hast thou done hereby
To make him now crie Crux, who Crownes did crye?

To all Worthy and well deseruing Souldiers.

True Martial men dispaire not in the times:
Nobilitie of you must haue a care.
Liue still vntoucht of infamie and crimes,
And high Iehoue will helpe you where you are.
Are you the men who neuer yet would spare
Nor life, nor lim, for Prince and Countries good?
You are the men, the men whose losse of blood
With wounds and skars doth still on you appeare
Though cloth'd and couer'd with your best aray:
But is that all? no, this besides I heare
That what remaines of life or lim, you say,
You are content to spend it any way
At Princes pleasure, speake he but the word.
Ah good sweet harts, what more can breath afford?

Write downe your names, your seruices write downe,
And say that you deuoutely doe remaine
Prest for the field, and to forsake the Towne,
If new imployments call you forth againe.

That being done, then with the same retaine
Some one that is true Noble for your aide,
Vpon whose mediation all be laid:
But let him be like her who sometimes said
Non ignara Mali, miseris succurrere disco
So help will come from seruice or from fisco

Though wit be the woer, Yet gold is the speeder.

Fye Fibbus, fye, now fye vpon thee foole,
What meaning hast thou by thy wooing so?
Thinkst thou to speed with that thou broughtst frō schoole,
Or that by Arte thou canst her ouer go?
If thou say yea, assure thee ile say no.
She heares thee speake, but when thy tale is tolde,
Sheele giue thee loue as thou canst giue her golde,
Except that flesh for flesh may hap be solde,
Then looke to that.

A Sale of Sinne.

Bvm-braka Lady of the slimie Snailes,
Out skowting still, doth seeke where she can win,
Then in she drawes her bootie by the tailes,
And puts foule flesh to flesh in filthie sinne:
Yet gilt sheele haue before they do begin:
O damned creature clapt in Sathans hold,
VVho damnes her selfe and many mo for gold
if Grace come not betweene.

A Memoriall of the worthy and Right Worshipfull Gentleman, Richard Louelace, late of Hurley, in the County of Berke, Esquire, Liefetenant of the Castle and Forrest of Windsor.

Some liue, who neuer louing were
to kisse nor yet to kin,
But Louelace he by louing all
vnlouing hearts did win.

I speake of that that I well know,
who knew him to his end:
His Countrey did not beare a man
more louing to his friend.

What, to his friend? yea poore as rich
according to his powre
His Towne of Hurley, where he dwelt
affirmes it to this houre.

His Towne of Hurley where he colde
endure the poore to dwell.
What dwell? yea oftentimes rent-free
the Countrey knowes it well.

And more then that, for hauing woods
and wastes that spacious were,
He could abide the poorer sort
to plant them dwelling there:

Not for enlarging of his rentes
(a thing farre from his mind)
And yet vnto those Cotagers
he land ofttimes assignde.

And as vnto his friends and poore
he thus exprest his loue,
So for his seruants, wife, nor childe
could him from them remoue:

For when his Copy-holds came voyd
he strake not vp the drum,
Nor gaue them to his children, as
I know is vs'd by sum.

But as they fell into his hands,
he gaue them to his men:
My selfe haue made them Copies oft,
was he not louing then?

What should I say? A firmer man
in kindnesse then was he
I haue not knowne, nor at this day
a firmer man can see.

And what I write thus in his prayse,
I write not for reward,
But to the end that other of
his sort might haue regard

To sample out their deedes by his
in gentlemanly loue,

Which though it bring no profite here
shall breede them gaine aboue:
For they must dye, as he is dead,
Though neare so high they beare their head.

Quid sumus (O miseri) nisi puluis motus ab aura,
Et fragili vitro similes, vmbræque fugaci?

What are we (O wretches) by nature and kind,
But ashes and dust blowne about with the winde?
And sampled by semblance, much like brittle glasse,
And like to the shadowe that swiftly doth passe?

Mors tua, mors Christi, fraus mundi gloria cœli,
Et dolor inferni, sunt meditanda tibi.

Thy death, Christs death, the worlds deceipt,
with hels infernall paine,
And glory of the heauens aboue
let thy deepe thoughts retaine.

Viue diu, sed viue Deo, nam viuere Mundo,
Mortis opus, viua est viuere vita Deo.

Liue long, but liue vnto the Lord,
for to the world to liue
Is dying life, but life to God
a liuing life doth giue.

Quod sibi quisque serit præsentis tempore vitæ,
Hoc sibi messis erit, cum dicitur, ite, venite.

What each one soweth to himselfe
While he on earth is liuing here,
That shall he reape, when it is said,
You bad be gone, you good come neere.

Heu viuunt homines tanquam mors nulla sequatur,
Et velut infernus fabula vana foret.

Men liue (alas) as though they should not dye,
And euen as though hell fier were a lye.

To a foule and common swearer.

Thow swear'st (vile man) as though thou were to pay.
A summe of oathes to Sathan for thy soule,
Thy tongue and lips that so blaspheme alway,
In hèlles blicke booke thy iudgement do enrowle
To suffer torments there and endlesse dowle:
For cursed swearing in this mortall life
Will there haue tearing and eternall strife.

To a Common Lyer.

Thy lyes come from thee by the load,
The carriage of them easie is
Where so thou makest thine abode,
Of lyes a man shall hardly misse,
But might thou know what comes of this?
Though thou speake truth, yet men will cry,
Beleeue him not, he tels a lye.

To an olde man loosely liuing.

Prauus eras paruus, malus et nunc magnus haberis:
Esto bonus tandem, non decet esse malum:

[_]

Englished thus.

Thou lewdly liu'dst a little boy,
now olde, th'art cald a knaue:
Be good at length, tis too too bad
so vile a name to haue.

Ad hypocritam.

Dic mihi, cum Chrislus tibi sit tam multum in ore
Cur vita Christum (flagitiose) negas?

Come tell me now, sith in thy mouth,
of Christ thy words are rise,
Why dost thou still deny him then
so lewdly in thy life.

Ad Christum.

Tabesco desiderio tua Regna videndi:
Hac tu (Christe) tamen da mihi tabe mori,

I waste with longing Lord
To see thy kingdomes hie,
Yet grant me (Christ my God)
Such wafting death to dye.

A liuely description of Ingratitude by a Fable of a Serpent and a way-faring man.

A Serpent fast enclosed in a Caue,
Vpon the mouth whereof a stone did lye,
Did piteously complaine and succour craue
Of such as then by chaunce were passing by.
A man there was that did regard his crie,
And to the Serpents suite this answere gaue:
Thou wilt inuade my life if thine I saue.

The Serpent then vnto the man replide,
O no, not so, but rather if by thee
My life be sau'd, which else is here destroyde,
Ile giue thee then the chiefest thing that yee
Of humane race and kinde accustom'd be
To giue to those who haue done for you most:
O saue me man, else here my life is lost.

The man much pitying his distressed case,
Remou'd the stone and let the Serpent out:
Who being out, did straight his limmes embrace
And with his hissing wound his legges about:
Herewith the man grew into fearefull doubt,
And asking what his meaning was thereby,
To kill thee (quoth the Serpent here to dye:

For such is the reward (quoth he) that men
On earth do giue and euery where bestow

On those who vnto them most firme haue ben:
Ingratitude from each ones brest doth flow,
And there is none from whome requitals grow.
The man denying this, they both agreed
That Iudges should decide the case: so on they yeede,

And as they passe, they meete an aged horse,
Deathes picture sure was he, whome late before
The owner had thrust forth without remorse:
They in this case of theirs his helpe implore
The feeble horse all galde, which grieu'd him sore,
Accepted of the charge, and thus began:
There was a time (quoth he) my selfe know whan,

For many yeeres a maister I did serue,
Who in my youth was glad to vse me well,
But being olde, he gaue me leaue to sterue,
Because that olde, I lame and feeble fell:
And though in youth I bare away the bell,
And was esteemde, yet now, my labour past,
He thrusts me forth an Abiect at the last.

Loe, thus you heare (quoth Serpent) what he sates:
The like requitall must thou haue of me:
Not so (sir) said the man: This horses prayse
Is of himselfe: And yet you plainly see
His ill deserts, not Age the causes be,
And being now enlargde from former toyle,
Here may he shift to liue vpon this Soyle.

And therefore from his Sentence I appeale,
And will be tride by one that is vpright:

This idle Iade decideth not of zeale,
But what he speakes, he speaketh in despight,
And would much more if malice were of might:
The next we meete therefore shall heare the strife,
For why (quoth he) it doth concerne my life.

Then forward still they passe till at the length
They meete a dogge, whom also age had worne,
A sily Curre was he cleane void of strength,
And one who many miseries had borne,
An halter lately this poore dogge had torne,
For why, the end then compassed his necke,
Whereby it seem'd he had escapte a checke.

The matter then vnto this dogge declarde,
Like doome he gaue, as did the horse before,
Whereat the Serpent as a victor farde,
But yet for this the man would not giue ore,
But tooke exceptions nothing lesse, but more:
This halters end (quoth he) doth well reueale
What this dogge is: wherefore I do appeale

From him as from the horse: that halters end
Doth shew, that he condemned was to die
For some offence, though fortune as his friend
That fate of his hath turned cleane awry,
And lent him strēgth frō halters strength to flie.
The Serpent seeing this to be so plaine,
Could not reply, but gaue consent againe

That this their cause should once more be referd
To him whom: next they met. And so content

They onward walke, and as they then conferd,
They met a curteous Foxe who grauely went

Referment of a cause to a Foxe, is a dangerous referment.

In long Furd gowne, he to them hearing lent.
Which done, withdrew himselfe that he thereby
Might better vse aduise to iudge truly,

And secretly vnto the man meane while thus spake:
My friend (sayd he) thy life lies in my hand:
Wilt thou therefore agree if for thy sake

A corrupt Iudge.

I iudge the cause (which doubtfully doth stand)
Vpon thy side, that I by promise band
Shall haue the Poultry which thou dost possesse,
I say thy Poultry be they more or lesse?

My Poultry? (quoth the man) how can the same
Serue as a Guerdon for my liues release?
There shall not one, not Pertellot by name,
Be kept from thee, nor euer will I cease
To yeeld thee yeare by yeare of my increase.
Sufficeth (sayd the Foxe) thus will I do,
I will require my selfe to go into

The Caue to see how there the Serpent lay,
And when the Serpent is come in t'expresse
The maner how, Ile quickly whip away,
And being gone, then worke thine owne redresse,
Roll on the stone before he forward presse.
The matter thus agreed, the Foxe retires
Vnto the Serpent, and of him requires

As is in sort declarde: They go yfeere
Into the Caue, the Foxe soone skippeth out,

The man who then was standing very neere,
Rolles on the Stone: So things are brought abowt.
The Stone once on, not all the learned Rowt
Of Foxes, nor of Serpents in that feeld
Could stirre the same, or any comfort yeeld

Vnto that traitrous worme enclosde againe.
Then there he lyes. And now I will proceed
To shewe the rest that hereof doth remaine,
New dishes oft, new Appetites do breed,
And many a one of later course doth feed,
Tis tragicall that resteth to be tolde:
What then? beet good or bad, our course weele holde.

The Foxe and man togither thence do go
In friendly sort vnto the good-mans house
About the bargaine of the Powltry tho.
But wilt thou goe poore Foxe? auis avous.
Thy bargaine will be scarcely worth a louse,
Th'vnthankfulnesse that raigneth in this Age,
I feare me Foxe, must be thy deathes presage.

But well, what is foreset, must come to passe:
Not onely death appointed is to all,
But eke the maner how, as here it was:
For nought to man or beast by chaunce doth fall,
There is none such as men do Fortune call.
Against blacke death no crast nor cunning swayes:
The Foxe for all his craft must ende his daies.

The honest man repeates vnto his wife
The fearefull hazards he had late bene in,

And how the Foxe preserued had his life,
And while he spake the teares ranne downe his chin,
Which teares with sobbes and sighes he oft did blin.
His wife attending all the while his tale,
At length chaungd colour and waxt wondrous pale:

O man (quoth she) now blessed be that beast
By whom thou art restorde to me aliue:
Halfe that we haue is with the very least
That we vnto that blessed Foxe should giue:
We must make reckning neuer here to thriue,
If vnrewarded this kinde beast should be:
O how my soule doth long his face to see.

Sweete wife (quoth he) thou speakest nought but truth,
For what can be too much for Lifes great gift?
And sith I see that thou thereon hast ruth,
I will disclose to thee an honest stift,
Not doubting but thou wilt allow my drift.
Thou knowst the Foxe no riches doth regard,
Ile shewe thee then what shall be his reward.

Two Cockes and thirteene Hennes I thinke we haue,
And these thou knowst I count not in our State,
And if with these a greater gift we saue,
Then shall we passe it at an easie rate:
For who that would haue said to me of late,
What wilt thou giue me if I saue thy life?
I would haue said, take all except my wife.

The wise that earst before such Zeale had showde,
As you haue heard, now when it came to proofe,

That words must goe with deeds, Lord how she crowd,
Each word she spake flew vp aboue the roofe.
The husband halfe afeard, began to stand aloofe:
Why man (quoth she) our goods and gold are thine,
But for the Cockes and Hennes, they all are mine.

Giue what thou wilt, but giue it of thine owne:
A custome tis that men do neuer mell
With Cockes and Hennes which in the house haue growne,
For such small wares the wise doth buy and sell:
I tell thee man, if thou do wish me well,
Let no such thought once creepe into thy hart:
For I will dye before Ile see them smart.

Alas, good man, what should he now replie?
This peremptory speach hath crossed all:
The Foxe for answere stayes abroad hard by,
Expecting still what share to him should fall,
He little thinkes what speech is in the hall.
Well, yet the man a manly courage tooke,
And thus he answer'd with a manly looke:

And wilt thou (wife) withstand my willes decree?
I tell thee woman I haue past my word
Say what thou wilt, the matter needes must be,
And if thou canst in kindnesse it affoord,
I will regard thee both at bed and boord,
But if thou seeke to thwart my true intent,
It shall be done, and yet shalt thou repent.

Which words of his so spoken, had such powre
To quench the fire of her hote burning spreete,

As that her speech, which had beene sterne and sowre,
Grew instantly to be both calme and sweete.
Well husband then (quoth she) if you thinke meete,
Let it be done: yet thus much let me craue,
That he may come by night his pray to haue:

For if I should behold, or beare the crie
That I am sure the sily fowles will make
When they shall see themselues drawne forth to dye,
Full sure I am that hart and ioynts would quake:
Grant this therefore (sweete husband) for my sake,
That he may come at midnight, not before,
And I of purpose will leaue ope the dore.

This suite of thine sweete hart (quoth he) is small,
The Foxe I know will readily assent.
So cheerefully he trudg'd out of the hall,
And to the Foxe that lay hard by he went,
Full soone he found the vermine by the sent,
And making knowne to him his wiues request,
The Foxe agreed and held it for the best.

But in this while the wife casts by deceipt
And plots how she her pullens liues may saue:
In th'end she doth resolue that at receipt
His life who sau'd her husbands life sheele haue.
O cursed wretch whose deede doth so depraue
The vertue that should be in humane race,
As that for vertue vice doth come in place.

But what ensues? the Stratagem is set,
The Foxe at midnight comes to haue his fee,

And thinking (wretch, that he should haue no let,
Within the house the mortall Engins be,
And were so plac'd because he could not see,
That he was caught, and caught, was put to death,
So he poore Foxe resigned vp his breath.

And thus we see the Serpents saying here
Is verifide that men to men doe giue
Ill turnes for good: for so it doth appere,
The Foxe is kild, the man he sau'd doth liue:
Marke well the Morall where unto we driue,
Ingratitude the Monster of our dayes,
In men more then in beasts it selfe displayes.

And also note (as to our purpose fit)
That as the man was moued much by gift
To saue the Serpents life, and saued it,
So was the Foxe likewise procurde to shift
To saue the man: which to our former drift
Is this, that liues reliefe is little waide,
If for the same be nothing paide.

Mediocria firma, with aduice to Constancie.

In height beware of peoples hate,
In welth beware of bitter want,
To rich may be a doubtfull State,
To ill is Sate that is to skant.

The two extreames are alwayes hard,
The meane t'weene both is alwayes best:
And so each State with truth confard,
The meane degree still bringeth rest.

But whither bale or blithfull blisse
Betide vnto thy changing lot,
The surest way for thee is this
And by no meanes to be forgot:

Not to be proud of slippry hap,
Nor to repine at pinching woe,
But as Dame Fortune changeth Sap,
So let Dame Fortune come and goe.

And so though States do chop and change,
As oft they change and chop indeede,
Thy mind shall neuer wandring range,
But constantly in things proceede.

Fortunam reuerenter habe, quicunque repente
Diues ab exili progrediere loco.

The same in English.

Who so thou be that suddenly frō poore degree art raisde,
Imbrace thy fortune reu'rently, and see thy God be praysde.

In Scurram pauperem.

Scurra vbi iam fures totam sibi nocte videret
Scrutantes magna sedulitate Domum,

Risit, et O, media quid vos hic nocte videtis,
Miror ait, media nil ego cerno die.

The same in English.

A scoffing Swayne perceiuing the cues
to search his house by night,
Laught lowd, and to the theeues he said,
O sirs, your braines be light:
What meane you at this seeld to search,
as though you could espy
At midnight that, that I at noone
could neuer yet come by?

A returne to Golde.

And now to Gold I bend my speech againe:
Goe packe thee hence, Corrupter of our age,
Enclose thy selfe in Mines, let earth retaine
Thy tyrant corpes, that so on earth dest rage.
That makest great ones serue thee as a Page,
That what thou wilt, by thee is quickly woon,
And what thou wilt, in like degree is doon.

Thou setst th'vnlearned in the learned Seate:
Th'vnfaithfull Shepheard in true Shepheards place,
Who feedes no flocke, but of the flocke doth eate:
Thou mak'st the foole the wiseman to disgrace,
And him that's lewd the honest to deface.
Woe worth thee wretch, the troubler of our time,
By whome the vertuous are held backe, and vassals clime.

And though there be of high and worthy States
That wey thee not, but wey true vertue more,

I have heard of some honorable, who vpon their advancement, haue bin most careful in the choise of their seruants for feare of bribery. God grant there haue bin an effect answerable to such their godly and honourable care.

Yet through Gehesi and his bribing mates,
There's little had for such as be but poore:
Where thou set'st foote, the worthy waite at doore,
While claw-backe Iackes, as brag as body-lowse,
Are entertaind in euery roome ath'house.

T'is to be read what was in Athens wrought,
By Phillippe king of Macedon, who thee
Imployde to bring that gallant state to nought,
By bribing those that were of best degree
Within the same. The like who might not see
In Englands State, of yeares not many past,
As also what became of them at last?

It were too long to reckon vp the whole,
How Golde corrupts by manifolde degrees,
And how for it full many pill and pose,
And Lawyers some, do take excessiue fees:
Thou Golde canst make men flie about like Bees.
But more then that, (would God that were the wurst)
Thou mak'st men swell with pride as they would burst.

And yet hereby I touch not Lawyers State,
Nor haue intent to quippe the learned sorte:
That were an Office for a scurrile mate,
For there are Lawyers of most worthy Porte,
Who still holde out as doth a fensed Forte,
Well getting Golde, and not enclinde to Pride,
For which good sort due Honors do abide.

And for the Iudges of our Common lawe,
I speake it from my heart, and so I holde
That there are none can say, they euer sawe
One Iudge that's now aliue corrupt with golde.
God graunt that they in like sort may be bolde

Grandibus exiguisant pisces piscibus esea.

To keepe the Ballance tyte twixt small and great,
Least else the small should be the great ones meate.

I will conclude. Not eu'ry State of men,
But some almost in eu'ry State there are,
Who may be wrought the good with bad to blen,
If golde, thou golde canst growe vnto their share:
And though that some of them perhaps haue care
To do no wrong, yet wrong they will permit,
As when they should giue helpe, they silent sit.

But for as much as many men are led
By many waies to start aside for Golde,
And that the mischiefes which are daily bred
By Moneys sway, are great and manifold,
So great I feare, as hardly can be tolde,
Therefore I ende my endlesse plaint with this,
That God must mend what gold hath made amis.

Quid non mortalia pectora cogis Auri sacra fames.
To what thing is't that Golde ne can
Constraine the thirsting heart of man?
The heart of man as hard as stone,
VVhich yeeldeth not to any mone,
But as the same with golde is bound,
So is affection in it found,

To bring about what may be had,
Let be the matter good or bad.
Omnia venalia Nummo.
Seeke gold, seeke gold, (good friend) seeke gold,
For golde can all things bye,
Both vertue, vice, (and else what not?)
To sale for golde do lie.
Omnia nummatis loculis sopita quiescunt,
Cum volet ipse Deus, fiet amæna Dies.
To him that hath the golden bagges
all things in quiet rest,
But God can giue a golden day
when he shall thinke it best.

Omnia Diues habet, nam præstat omnia Nummus.

The rich hath all that heart can craue,
For he with golde all things can haue.

VVhen vices all waxe olde in man,
His loue of golde growes youthly than.

To the Right VVorshipfull and of high deseruing Sir Iulius Cæsar Knight, one of the Maisters of the Requests to the Kings Maiestie.

Though griefes arise in men of troubled harts,
Yet when the same by skill of penue are plaste,
Petition-like in writing with the parts,
Good God, how then such Suters griefes do waste,
As though that then their helpe would come in haste
But if their Sutes do happen on delay,
Faint growes the hope whereon their hearts did stay.

If toylesome paine procure dispatch of Sutes,
What plowman taketh greater paines then yea;
An open Truth a slaunderous lye confutes,
So what I write, apparently is true:
And yet (good sir) this sequele may ensue,
Vnlesse the Suter do his Sute obtaine,
Ill words may come for recompence of paine.

For why it happens oft, that he who sues,
Because his minde runnes wholly on successe,
If that he happe to heare contrary newes,
Then meying no mans trauell more or lesse,
Away he goes with great vnthankfulnesse.
So thanklesse thoughts and peeches that depraue
Oft Mediators vnto Princes haue.

Sie plerunq; Mediatores vtrinq, leduntur, sicut vespertilie
Laceratur a muribus & anibus.

Alphonsus king of Naples was wont to say of Mediators of Requests vnto kings and princes, that they are like vnto those who hauing their dwellings in the middle roomes of a house, are besprinckled with vrine by those that are aboue them, and annoyed with filth by those that are belowe them.

The Author.

And here my Booke shall haue his end
with my complaint of Gold;
God graunt that high and holy thing.
in sound estate may hold.

And as the seate of Iustice is
at this day firme and pure,
So passages vnto the same
may be both plaine and sure,

Not clogd with shifts and falsitie:
by such as haue to deale
Infersourly with Iustice in
our English common-weale

That Suitors may be soone dispatch'd
before they be opprest
With bribes and charges in their sutes
and so for all the rest,
That Gold may neuer beare the sway,
But that true vertue flourish may.

FINIS.