[The Courte of Vertu contaynynge many holy songes, Sonettes, psalmes and ballettes] [by John Hall] |
A Poesis in forme of a Uisyon,
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[The Courte of Vertu | ||
A Poesis in forme of a Uisyon,
briefly inueying against the most hate full and prodigious Artes of Necromancie, Wytchcraft, sorcery, Incantations, and diuers other detestable & dyuelyshe practises, dayly vsed vnder colour of Iudiciall Astrologie.
As Titan last gan crall:
By order in hys endles pathe
Ecliptike that men call.
Iust in the myddest deuyde:
That syxe degrees therof are founde,
From it on euery syde.
As was natures request:
I went to bed full hopyng there,
To take some quiet rest.
Through trouble of myne hart,
That thus I made my playnt to God
Who only knewe my smart.
Wyth sleape thys nyght begyle:
As dyd Ulysses, when from care,
He eased was a whyle.
Good kyng of Phæacea,
Hym sent in shyp tyll he sayld home
To hys owne Ithaca.
Layd foorthe vpon the lande:
Which whē he woke, what place it was
Dyd nothyng vnderstande.
And gaue hym perfect viewe:
Howe soone he myght in presence be
Of Penelope true,
To hys great griefe of mynde:
By dyuers lucke, long tyme with held,
In Homer as we fynde.
Recorded so her song:
That all my shyftes could wyn no slept,
That would contynue long.
Dyd seme to touche hyr brest,
For hyr shryll notes so perst myne eares,
That long I could not rest.
I gan to thynke and met:
That when I wakt besyde my wyt
It had me almost set.
For my sport and solas:
Where syluer drops of dewe most swete
Dyd cleaue to euery grasse.
Wyth streames so Chrystall clere:
That at the bothom myght be sene
The peble stones appere.
And on that rocke a wood:
From whiche ran many pleasant springs
Into that ryuer good.
As lyfe bloud in the veynes
Dothe from the heart tyll eche member
Comfort therby atteynes.
A Fielde most plesant grene:
Where the beautie of natures workes
Ryght aptly myght be sene.
In suche a Fyeld to know:
But myght be sene most fruitfully
Within thys fielde to grow.
Or soote Uerbasculy:
The Clouer swete of dyuers kyndes,
That caulde are trifoly.
Wyth fayre Hieracium:
The Synkfoyle and the Betony,
And swete Origanum.
Asciron, and Paunsye:
The Uyolet and Simphiton.
And the double Daysye.
And crimsen Pimpernell,
The Cammocke, and the Camomille,
And Canterbury bell.
And London touft so red:
Agrimony and Lyons tooth,
That Chyldren call Pysbed.
And lady Traces fyne:
With Yarow, Torne twyse, Strawberyes,
And Burnet good with wyne.
And Procerpinaca:
The Adder grasse, the Saxifrage,
And eke Veronica.
Or periclimenum:
Well myxed wyth small Cotnus trees,
Swete bryer, and Ligustrum.
Wyth boxe, and maple fyne:
In whyche braunched the Briony,
The Iuy, and wylde vyne.
And from my purpose stray:
If I should recken all the thyngs
Within the Fielde so gay.
That knowe Astronomy:
I thynke no platforme in the worlde,
Where one myght more aptly.
That Cosmike haue to name:
Acronyke to, and Helyak,
Of starres of noble fame.
The lyttle Beare fyrst see:
That called are, the guardes of those
That cunnyng saylers be.
Charles wayne appeareth stoute:
Whych wyth the small Beare euermore,
Dothe walke the pole about.
Then Bootes, and the North Crowne:
And after knelynge Hercules,
Is sene with great renowne.
That vse to dryue the cart:
The man that dothe the serpent beare,
The Egle and the dart.
That flyes caulde pegasus:
The tryangle, and Androwede,
As some men doo discusse.
Where Planets haue theyr waye:
Wyth all aspects that may bechance
To any, nyght or day.
That caulde are Hyades.
Myght there be sene wyth the brood henne.
That some name Pleiades.
The Lyons hart, and tayle:
The virgins spyke, the scorpyons harte
And Water potte all nayle.
That ladyes Elle some call:
The ryuer, hare, and bothe the dogges,
As well the great as small.
The Rauen, and Centaure:
The Centaures speare, & then the wolfe
And also the altare.
Wyth many other there,
As Tricars Constellation,
Or Berenices heare.
There myght a man beholde:
And many mo then I can name,
An hundred thousande folde.
Bothe oblique and ryght:
No secretes of Astronomye,
That were not there in syght.
Of Lady Uranie
Wherin to walke she dyd frequent
Wyth all her famylie.
As I had oft before:
Of that swete fielde to take the ayre
Whyche doth mans sprites restore.
Most decent to beholde:
His long beard gray, so was hys head
Which dyd declare hym old.
All others dyd excell:
His gate and gesture semd ynough
All vyces to expell.
In hym was nothyng sene:
His outward workes dyd explicate,
An inwarde conscience cleane.
Dere frende howe farre away?
To yonder field father (I sayd)
A whyle my selfe to play.
Howe ye henceforth come there:
It wyll you els in hell confound,
Therfore I say forbeare.
(Sayd I) doo it disclose:
Theologus I am (quod he)
Wyth thee I wyll not glose.
From yonder plesant place?
Because (quod he) it late receaude
A chance of great disgrace.
I doo not vse to lye:
I wyll the showe howe it befell,
And that ryght orderly.
Of all fowles at hys foode:
Most rauenous, insaciate,
And of most gredy moode.
That fowle infernall flood,
To fyll hys gut, or take hys pray,
Styll watchyng late he stoode.
Of Plutos hatefull kynde,
Came craulyng out, whych gredy gut
Coulde very quickly fynde.
He cobde hym vp at ones:
And wyth that pray away he flewe
And made therof no bones.
To hym suche extreme payne,
Tyll in thys Field at last he lyght,
Thynkyng there to remayne.
Put foorth hys for sayd meate,
Thynkyng as he was wont wyth eeles
The same agayne to eate.
Dyd crepe among the grasse,
Whyche long necke could no more espy,
Ne yet fynde where she was.
And lykewyse swalowed mo,
And to this Fielde styll toke hys flyght,
And there dyd let them go.
Through thys hys frequent vse,
That now thys Field is marred quight,
Through most hatefull abuse.
In it doo dayly breede,
Whych on these herbes & pleasant gras,
Continually doo feede.
Of euery plesant flowre,
But hatefull stynche may there be felt
At euery tyme and howre.
With holsome pleasant showres:
And naturall Astronomie,
With all her fauoroures.
For why, clowdes infernall,
Are dayly blowne from Leches floud
To water it wythall.
But Superstition:
Of learnyng pure, and science good
The vyle obliuion.
Therfore dothe it possesse:
Whiche is a strumpet counterfet.
And yet neuerthelesse,
Do cast their myndes and loue:
That she is true Astronomie,
Ryght many she doth moue.
They vse Necromancye:
Wyth hatefull incantations,
And vyle Geomancye.
And Augures arte perdye:
Foredemyng as Aruspices,
And some as Pyrethi.
Of false phytonicus,
Although they geue themselues the name
Of graue Philonicus.
Or Sathans wycked broode,
That in thys Fyeld the Heron shyt
To ease hym when he stoode.
And hatefull byrde done so:
And natures dearlyng thus defast?
To hym Væ, Væ, wo wo.
And my plesant delyght:
And holsome recreation
Robde, and depryued quyght.
I turned backe agayne,
For grayberds counseil durst I not
Refuse or once dysdayne.
Wyth thanks and condigne prayse,
I serued hym, when as we went
Eche one hys sundry wayes.
Went wyth my sory newes,
Enformyng my famyliar frendes
Wyth whome I dyd peruse
My wytte styll occupy,
And doo with them communicate
My mynde continually.
Wyth me thys chance lament,
And other some would not beleue,
But to the place they went.
That frendly dyd them warne:
But nedes would go presumptuously,
The matter to decearne.
And that most diuelyshly:
They are content to graunt it styll
To be Astronomye.
Though by the diuels worke,
Under cloke of Astronomye,
These foule false faytors lorke.
Or fynde that whiche I loste:
Or know my desteny to come,
Why should I count it coste?
Suche thynges for to be wrought:
If he dyd not allowe the same,
Or knewe it to be naught.
Men to health to restore:
Although it be by dyuels worke,
What nede I passe therfore?
Wherof he was depryude,
By fals theues and vyle barators,
That wrongly it atchieude.
Thus beastly men and fond,
Do answer them that would instruct
Or make them vnderstand.
Nor hys commanndement:
That no yll thyng ought to be done,
Upon a good intent.
Were a laufull defence,
So were it for all kynd of synne,
And most wycked offence.
Wyth vyle Idolatry:
For treason, couetyse, and pryde,
And moste vyle simony.
Sythe God dothe them permyt:
As well as those whom ye defende,
Oh men of beastly wyt?
Unto full rypenes growe:
That in the lake of sulphure he
Most iustly may you throwe.
Unto hys flocke electe:
That do by grace these wycked artes
Cleane from theyr heartes reiect.
And doo at hym require,
Theyr sauyng health, and he doth geue
To them theyr whole desyre.
From of theyr heads no tyme
Wythout hys wyll, whych doth impute,
To them no synne nor cryme.
All wherof they haue nede:
Whiche causeth them assuredly.
Of theyr purpose to spede.
Of Infidelitie:
That ye at dyuels seke suche helpe
Through moste vyle sorcery.
When Gods sprite hym forsoke:
When God would hym no answer make
For wytchecraft gan he loke.
Hym in his nede auayle
Dyd well appere: he slewe hym selfe
When foes dyd hym assayle.
Of that same very sect:
Whyle ye at Sathan seke your helpe,
And do Gods powre suspect.
As reprobates forelorne:
So shall ye be hys porcion,
Syth God ye haue forsworne.
Whiche yf it be gods will,
He graunt ye all that ye may hate,
And shonnyshe thys great yll.
They father this theyr art:
They are the workes of wickednes,
And of eternall smart
As God dyd hym reueale,
Hath found their place to be in hell,
Where tormentes are eche deale.
Wyth conscience vncleane:
And all that vnto sorcery,
Or wycked wytchecraft leane.
The lyuyng God forsake:
Cleauyng to condemnation,
And therof hold doo take.
Syth all men well do knowe:
That god so deadly doth it hate,
That neyther hygh nor lowe.
To Sathan his soule gyue:
Or if Gods lawe obserued were,
Not one of them should lyue
Wyth wytches sorcery:
Or suche as chosers are of dayes,
Markyng the byrdes that flye.
God ryghtly and beleue,
Assuredly do know that no
Suche thyng can once them greue,
Iudicial that ye name:
Let learned Caluine satisfie,
All wyse men of the same,
Alas is nowe the cloke,
For euery kynde of trechery,
That goodnes dothe reuoke.
Or vagabundes most lewde:
Do now a dayes from shyre to shyre,
Wyth shyftes both false and shrewde.
And noble Surgery,
Delude the common multitude
Wyth shamefull sorcery.
And thynges long done and paste:
Whych doth with admiration
The people make agast.
That nothyng vnder sonne.
Dothe stande to hard or difficill,
Of suche men to be donne.
Or Chyromancies gaude:
And foolysh Physiognomye,
And wytchery that fraude.
The people they allure:
More then can any godly art,
That perfect is and pure.
This is a common shyft:
Of ruffyen theues and murderers
It also is the dryft.
Together oft they drawe:
Free from danger of officers,
And punyshement of lawe.
With Iustice, powre, and myght,
That Uranie and Medicine,
Agayn myght haue theyr ryght.
So fraudulently kept:
That for most true possessioners
The most part them accept.
Before I haue you sayd:
Desyryng now all learned men
In this to adde theyr ayde.
It may once be purged:
That there the ryght inheritours
Agayne myght be lodged.
Some holsome place to dwell:
Where of the wyse they are accept
And entertayned well.
At laste I dyd awake:
Fyndyng my body sweatyng sore,
And all my synewes shake.
Thynkyng of thys strange dreame:
Wyshyng for some interpretour
If any in thys Realme
Ferdinand Ponzetus:
Or Artemidor, whose syrname
Is sayd Daldianus.
So other thoughtes at last,
Abated this perplexitie,
And it began to wast.
That I dyd shortly heare:
The warblyng notes & song so swete,
Of Philomela cleare.
I should from me expell:
Wherfore I rose, and wyth all spede,
I lyghted a candell.
Whych stoode in my chamber:
Then toke I foorth my standyshe to,
Wyth pen, ynke, and paper.
Thys rough and ragged verse:
Wherin theffect of thys my dreame,
I rudely doo reherse.
To beare it paciently:
Syth it is but the buddyng flowre,
Of my poore infancy.
I shallbe glad tamend:
If any man shall me informe,
And thus I make an ende.
When they aske councell at theyr Gods, at their Prophets, at theyr Sothsayers and Witches, thē wyll I bryng theyr counsels to nought.
Ye shall not lerne after the maner of the heathen, and ye shall not feare the tokens of heauen: for the heathen are afrayd of such. yea all the customes and lawes of the Gentiles are nothyng but vanitie.
Go now to thy coniurers and to the multitude of thy wytches, whom thou hast ben acquaynted with all frō thy youthe, yf they may heare thee or strengthen thee: Thou hast hytherto had many counsels of them. So let the heauen gasers & beholders of starres, come on nowe and deliuer thee: yea and let them shew, when these new things shall come vppon thee. Behold they shalbe lyke straw, which if it be kyndled with fyre, no man may rid
[The Courte of Vertu | ||