University of Virginia Library



The seconde Booke of Q. H. Flaccus his Epistles.

To Augustus

Since thou sustaines such busines
and so much bringste abowte,
Defends the Itale realme wyth armes,
with mannors sets it out,
Reformes with lawes: I shold but do
the common wealth much wrong,
If I shoulde stay thy well spente time,
Cesar, with talking long.
Both Romulus, and God Bacchus,
Pollux, and Caster to
For valiante feates of chiualrie
Saintes shryned longe ago,
Whilst they made their abode on earthe
Emongste vs mortal men,
Stayde warres, built townes, and laide out fieldes,
they much compleined then,
That honor such so plawsible,
did not ensew their acts,
As they did thinke they had deserud
by merits and their factes.

Hercules

He that did crowse, and culpon once

Hydra of hellish spyte,
And monsters knowne with fatall toyle
to fetters frusshed quyte,
Perceaud this by experience,
that Monsters all do fall
Through manlines: enuie is tamde
at death, or not at all.


He burnes the most with very blase,
that all thinges brings to passe
With skil, and none loues him, till he
be lapde in leaden masse.
Auguste, to the now present here,
we present honors due,
And alters make to thy greate name,
by that name we sweare true,
That anye thinge in anye place
was neuer lyke to the:
And dare auer, and well auouche
that neuer none shalbe.
The romishe people wise in this,
in this point only iust
Before the Grekes, and Romane guydes
prefer the as they must.
In this case doumes men very good,
in that they iudge of the:
In other thinges me thinks they seme
not so vpright to be.
Hating, and lothinge all such works,
as lewde, and ful of crymes,
Which were not fetchde from forren landes,
or pende in all theire tymes.
Such fawters of antiquitye
that tables made be men,
Deuysed and auctorished
by well knowne Romanes ten,
The storyes, and the iestes of kings
reiestred longe before,
Relegiouse bookes, and Cronicles,
by prophets writ of yore:
These workes they say the musies once
in Albane mount did tell.
Nedes must they cum from mouthe of muse,
for they so much excell.


The workes of Greekes as they be ould
so if they be the best,
So let vs iudge of Romaine woorkes
and then is all at rest.
Then chawke is cheese, and night is day
plaine speaking is to stut,
Within the Olyue nowght is hard,
nowght hard without the nut:
Wee then haue taken vp our stande,
and cum to fortunes tip.
But since we paint, and singe as well
wrastle as well, and skipp
As doth the Grecians pickd for nonce,
as good in any game.
Why shoulde we then in poetrie
distrust t'attayne the same?
If tyme do make mens poems good
as it doth make good wyne,
Then would I know how many yeares
a poet do assyne.
The wryter that departed hence
an hundred yeares agoe,
Emongst the poets new, or ould,
where shal we place him (lo?)
Mongste good, or bad: In sadnes nowe
to exclude all brabling moode,
How many winters do you wene
will make a poet good.
H'is ould, and good that hath bene deade
an hundreth yeres complete.
And he that lackes a yeare, or monthe
where shall he haue his seat?
Emongst the poets auncient,
whom all men do approue:


Or mongste that trybe which we reiect,
and neuer age shall loue?
He takes his place amongst the olde
the case is very cleare,
If he cum short of his accoumpt
but one monthe, or one yeare.
I take it thus Our Rome sayth to
that one yeare breedes no square.
Then lyke as one from horses taile
should twitche out heaire by heaire,
I take out one, and then one yeare
subtracting one, by one
Whilste he deceaude shall well perceaue
the hundred to be gone:
Who going to his cronicles
doth iudge all rymes by time,
And excepte death hath hallowed it
allowes no kynde of ryme.
Ennie wyse, stronge, and as he thoughte
an other Homere he,
Of the which dome concerninge hym
(yet dyuers other be)
Coulde not performe his promis tho
lyke Homere to indyte
Though he wende he had Homers sowle
and euen as well could wryte.
Neuie he is not in our handes
his want doth vex our minde,
So sacred be the poets oulde
and Rome to them so kynde.
If it be askd who was the beste:
Pacuuius doth beare
The bell for lore, and Actius
doth sounde his thumpinge geare:
To Menander the Commicke gowne
of Afphranus was fit.


Plautus the swifte delyuer stile
of Epicarme did hit.
Cecilius in grauitie,
Terence in art doth passe.
Those Rome doth cun, those mightie Rome
doth crowde thicke in compasse
Of Theatre, doth gaze on those
to Poets those bee mounted.
And all from Liuie to our tyme
be perfect poets counted.
The people sumtymes see a truthe,
sumtymes are ouersene.
If they so praise these Poets, which
in alder time haue bene,
If they make them Aperse Aes
that none are like to them:
The people then is misconceaude,
such vmpers I condemne.
If they do thincke that ould men write
sum harde, sum out of vse,
Sum slowthfully, and lowslie to,
and do not them excuse,
Wyse is that folke, and of my minde
and iudgeth vprightly,
I do not blame, nor haue not wishte
that Liuies verse should dye,
Which crewell, sharpe, Orbilius
did teache to me a childe.
How they I maruell seme to trim,
such maiestie to beare,
That they to principale good stuffe
approchinge on so neare
Mongste whiche if one well vttred worde
haue glimpsed at a shyne:
Or if there be a verse or twaine
that semeth sumwhat fyne:


Uniustlie they presume the hole
to be summ preciouse thinge,
And dare vnto the Stationer
as sailable it bringe.
I thincke not much that thinges are carpde
comde from a blockyshe pate,
But that those things are counted worse
which were commencde of late.
The lycence of the auncients
I neuer mente to craue:
There honors and their good rewardes
I woulde be glad to haue.
If Attaies interlude were good
(in case if I shoulde doubt)
For that it spoke of tryfling toyes,
certes a shameles lowte
Our seniors woulde blame me al,
for that I would amende
Those things, which Esopus the graue
and learned Rossie pende.
Or that they thincke nothinge is good
that is not to their pay,
Or that to their inferioures
they thinke shame to obey.
And that they thincke it now a shame
to leaue their wilsom waies,
Which these haue berdles learned once,
and in theire youthfull dayes.
He that can praise the Anthymmes of
kinge Numa, though that he
Be lyke my selfe, yet nedes must he
of greater iudgement be.
He cannot he delyte himselfe
in those which dyed of late.
Us eeke, and oures he pincheth at,
both deadly he doth hate.


If nouel woorkes had bene of greekes
accompted of so could
As now of vs, where now had bene
these workes, which we call oulde?
Or what thinge publique had there bene
written, and extante then
Which might be red, and flye abrode
amongst the handes of men?
As sone as Greece abandonde warre,
and gan to fall to toyes,
(As done those folke which gin to tast
at ease of fortunes ioyes)
Now to horses, now to wrasslings
attentyue much it was,
To viewe straunge workmanship in stone
in Iuorye, and brasse.
Hangde vp their lyuelie phisnomies
in tables dighted gaie:
Sumtimes did ioy in melodie,
sumtimes in tragique playe:
Lyke as the infant vnder nurse
cryes still to haue the teate,
And afterwarde at ryper age
doth leaue her loued meate:
So chaungde the grekes. For what O loue
is so nouell, and straunge,
But minde of man still discontent
woulde see a further chaunge
Things sweat or sower stil change by chaunce
and varie frome their kyndes,
So chaungeth goulden peace to warre
so chaunge the luckie wyndes.
Longe was it pleasaunte vnto Rome,
a solempne vse to wake,
And in thine open house earely
great busie paines to take:


To geue their Clientes solempne reede
and firmelie to fore caste
How that theire money well bestowde
might multiple at last.
To heare their betters teache the worse,
by honest trade to gaine:
And to extinguishe hurtful lust
the parent of much paine.
The fickle folke haue changde theire minde,
eche man is burning hote
To be a starte vp wryter straighte
in that a lone, aflote.
The younge, the ould of grauer wittes
at supper haue with baye
Their pendaunte lockes encompasde rounde
and verses they outlay.
Yea I my selfe that vse to saye
I wryte no kinde of ryme:
Am founde more lyinge then the Parthes:
and do cal for betime
Ere sonne be vp, my trinckets al,
my paper, deske, and quill.
He is a fraide to rule the ship
that can rule her but ill:
None dare make boulde to minister.
vnto his patiente
Woormewoode, except he know the thing,
and know to what intente.
Phisitions with their owne arte
wil onlie haue to do:
The blacksmith he with shop and styth
doth mel, and looke vnto.
Learnde, and vnlearnde we poemes pen
on all handes in eche place.
Our error tho, and small frensie
what great vertues, and grace,


It hath, consider this with me:
the poets fixed minde
Is commonly not couetouse,
nor rauishd from his kynde.
Uerses he loues, them only plyes
his losses, (as the guyle
Of seruantes vile his house is brent)
at those he doth but smyle.
No fraude he meaneth to his frende
to Orphaines infants none.
He can dyet with grudginge breade,
and peasecoddes all alone.
Good in cittye, though he be but
a milksop in the warre:
If you graunt this that great affayres
by small thinges helped are:
The tender stammering mouth of boyes
the poet frames by pains:
At the same times from language lewde
their eares he doth restraine.
Straight he instructs their brests with rules,
as frindly as may be,
Of dumpishnes, enuye, and ire
a sharpe controwler he.
He shewes to spende the time to cum
by samples past before.
He doth reiesture acts wel dun,
comforts the sicke, and pore.
How should yonge virginnes, & smal boyes
haue knowne how they might praye,
Except the muse had poets rasde
to teache them what to say.
The queare thus taught craues helpe from heauen
and feeles it cum with all.
This fayre, speachde queare through learned prayer
waters frome high doth call.


Turnes backe diseases dryues away
all daungers full of feare.
Obteineth peace, of corne and graine
a much abundaunte yeare.
The goddes aboue are calmd with verse,
with verse the hagges of hell.
The fermers oulde, stronge with a small,
that led their liues so well,
Their haruist done refreshde their corpes.
On hollie dayes with cheare,
And minde with sporte, which such harde hap
for better hope did beare.
With wyfe, babes, seruaunts, to Tellus
did sacryfice a swyne,
And to Syluanus offred milke
a sacryfice deuyne.
To Genius that makes men mynde
the shortnes of their dayes,
They sacryficed flowers, and wine
and lo by such like wayes,
Came firste the fraunchyse Fessentine,
the rude vnciuill sorte,

Fessentine libertie, by the vvhich on certē testinat dayes poets might talke their pleasure on any man.


Did rayle at wil in rural ryme
through fredom of the sporte.
And this licence through many yeres
in pleasaunt plight did stay,
Whilst to a very open rage
was turnde the hastie play.
This rage right honest families
assailde, and was not blamde,
Whilst honest men toke it in snuffe
to see them selues defamde.
And those that were not blemishde yet
in generall did feare
To what ende might procede at length
this sawcie tauntinge geare.


A law was made, and penaltie
annexed to the same:
For very rygor of the lawe
they tornde their former trade:
Fayre woorded rymes to please the eare
gan then for to be made.
The conquerd Greece, her victor Rome
with poemes did delyte,
And brought artes into Italie,
a realme vnciuil quyte.
So vanished Saturnes piuishe rythmes
which he before had taught,
And better speach, the clottred clotte
of duncerie brought to nowght.
Yet manye a wynter after that,
Did base speache with vs staye,
And left mongst vs sum footesteppes yet
remainyng to this day.
For Rome to greakish writings laide
her eare but now of late,
And beinge after Punicke warres
in calme, and quyet state,
Began then first to make the searche,
and partly for to smell
What Eschill, Thespis, Sophocles,
had put in writinge well
If worthely they could translate
then gaue they first assay,
Hawtie, and sharpe by nature they
and for their proper pay,
They breathe thing tragicall enough
and luckily are boulde:
But they feare blemishe in their worke,
and no such shame they woulde.
A commodie is thought to be
a thinge of lesser payne,


Becawse out of our dayly deedes
the most therof is tayne.
A commodie is so much more
of great, and weightie charge,
Because her libertie is strayte,

Commodie.


at least not very large.
Behold Plautus how he sets out,
by what apparaunte arte
The beardles louer, heedfull syer,
and craftie Lenos part.
Dorsen in paintinge parisits
bestoweth all his vaine:
Right dessolute in all the rest,
as one that takes no paine,
If he may cofer vp the coyne
or hent it once in hande,
Gramercye let his commoditie
or settle downe, or stande.
He that for brute, and wyndlik fame
doth bringe to stage a playe,
Him manie hearers wil make proude,
small number will dismaye.
So small it is, so light it is,
that makes the gloriouse mynde,
That huffes it vp, and puffes it downe
most chaungeable by kinde.
Both commodies, and Tragidies,
Fayre well say I, if that
The peoples euill voice make mee leane,
or good voyce make me fatte.
These two doth much exanimate,
and strykes the hart full coulde,
And makes those poets much ashamde,
that ought most to be bolde,
That oft the greater companye,
in vertue few, and base,


Untaught blockheads, braineles, ere while
at buffits for their place,
Though all our nobles like it well
in midst of all the plaie,
To beare baytinges, or pricke playings,
our Rudesbies must awaye.
Yea now our nobles do at length
their eares from toyes restrayne:
Yet flote their eyes, and hede of toyes
which be but very vaine.
They can sustayne fower howers to see
our stagies brauelie dight,
Of horsemen tropes, of footemen ranckes,
how they are put to flight:
Straight, captiue kinges are haild in sight
with pinnyand armes behinde:
The wagon, coche, horselitter, Barge,
to follow are assinde:
The captiue booties must be seene,
all things to please the eye:
To heare a learned commodie
we wery by, and by.
Democritus if he were here
wher he was wunt to be,
He would I warrante laugh a pace,
and make a noble glee,
If that the whyte straunge Elephante,
or yet the Camell can
Reteyne the people attentiue,
and make so many scan,
A gawishe sort gredie to gase
not gredie to be tawght:
At whom more then at any vyce
a wiseman would haue lawght.
What so is tould amongst thee flocke
so as it cumes to passe,


As fruitfullie a man mighte tell
a tale vnto an asse.
What noyse, or noyses to this noyse,
comparable in sounde?
So sterne it is, so shrill it is
when th' eccho doth rebounde
The rore of wooddes, the rore of seas
thou wouldest thinke to heare:
Such rule, and ruffle make the rowte
that cum to see our geare.
Deuyses, pagaunts, vestures straunge
with which the players drest,
The people hauinge harde no worde
to clap their handes are prest.
Masters why lawgh you so (sayth one)
what did the players say?
Nowght yet (sayth one) we lawgh to se
the goodly garments gay,
The coollor cleare, the noble dye
vpon that purple gowne:
Most like vnto the purple hue
which cums fro Tarent towne.
Lest thou should thinke that I disprayse
the thing which I do make
Because it is kynde of charge
which other vndertake:
That poet on a stretched rope
may walke and neuer fall,
That can stere vp my passions,
or quicke my sprytes at all.
Stere me, chere me, or with false feares
of bugges fill vp my breast,
At Athens now, and now at Thebes,
by charminge make me rest.
Concerning vs which studie not
to serue the staringe stage,


But wryte, which the posteritie
may reede from age to age.
If thou dost meane to haue vs pen
sum clercklie worke in deede,
Worthie Sir Phebe, and to put oute
our bookes with better spede,
Cutte of the carke that nippes our harte,
(a woorke of passing meede)
That poets with more feruent minde
then commonly is seene
May viset oft the musies nyne,
and Helicon the greene.
We poets do annoy our selues
by many kynde of wayes:
When I (as cutting downe, my vines)
mine own woorkes do dispraise.
Or when that thou art cloyde wyth booke,
(Like noddies, as we be)
We hurte our selues without respect,
in geuinge bookes to the.
Or if sum frende do reprehende
but one word of our vearse,
The hurt is ours that we becum
so byting, and so fearse.
When we do say, and oftens say
our rymes which none would heare:
When we take thoughte, becawse our toyle
to no man doth appeare,
Which we susteynde in making of
our poems freshe and fyne,
By drawinge them so featly forth,
and with so cleane a twyne.
Or when we thinke our matter needes
to such an ende must grow:
That, when, how we deuisers be,
assone, as thou shalt know,


On thine own swinge thou wilt vs call,
and make on vs with speede,
And cause vs write, and worke it so
that we no more shal neede.
It shal concerne your honor to
to haue to write mens acts.
Retayners to the musies house,
and famouse for their facts.
To make their deedes in peace, and warre
in stately style to sette:
Such dedes as to vnworthie Clarks
we ought not to commit.
To Alexander Cherilus
was welcum at those tymes:
Who gaue him crownes (a princelie gift)
for raggie rugged rymes.
But as blacke incke doth blur, and doth
the paper fayre defyle:
So good thinges handled of a foole
do seme to be more vyle.
The self same king so prodigall,
that bowght his trashe so dere,
Made proclamacion to be made
that no man any where,
Excepte Apelles should portraye,
except Lysip in brasse,
Should cast to counterfeyte his face,
which of such corage was.
One painter passinge all the rest
his minde was to haue had:
One poet to, that poet was
Sir Cherilus the bad.
Though he were king and Conquerer,
he might be coumpted tho,


A very gowse to leaue the good,
and fee a lossell so.
But thy iudgements which thou doste geue
will neuer worke the shame,
And gifts which they had with much praise
of the whiche gaue the same.
Virgill I meane, and Varius
thine owne deare Darlings twayne.
Thou hast deserued well of lore,
in quitinge of their payne.
Faces in brasse are not set forth
so lyuely in their kindes,
As by a poets workmanship
mens manners, and their mindee
Are well discribde, and painted out.
Its twyse so leeue to me,
To write a storye loftelie,
and stowte worded to be.
As low to creepe, and poorely peepe:
fayne would I take in hand
To speake of lands, of hawtie towers,
which on the rockes did stande.
Of saluage realmes, of fowghten fields
throughout the world to wyde:
And now reduce to peace agayne
thee onelie being guyde:
The turrets that in peace kepe close
Ianus the townes watcheman:
And Rome so fearefull to the Parthes
thee being cheuetaine.
This would I wryte, if that my power
could satisfye my will.
And true it is thy maiestie
a righte great style would fill.
Its standes not with my shamefastnes
to vndertake the thinge,


To beare that which my strengthe dothe shrinke,
and shame vnto me bringe.
To much a doe doth hurte him moste,
that mels with it the most:
Cheefelie if he in toungues, and arts
be rashe to make his boste.
A man may soner beare awaye
and rather kepe in mynde
The thinge deryded, then that is
prayse worthie in his kynde.
That commendation force I not
which doth my merits passe:
As eke I would not haue my face
set out in wax or brasse.
For euil inuented poecie
I would not haue a name.
Leste praysed so be yonte al home
it chaunce me for to shame.
And lest my wrytings which I thought
eternal brute shal haue,
Upon one beare, as sone as I
be caryed to their graue.
I meane vnto the mercers shoppes,
wher francke incence is soulde,
And what soeuer spycerie
in waste paper is roulde.

To Iulius Florus

Florus , thou inteyre, faithful frinde
to vertuouse Nero,
If one sell the a straunger boy,
and say vnto the, (lo)
This fayre skinde boy, for such a Summe
If thou wilte shalbe thyne,


A seruaunte at his masters becke
tydie, prompte, preste and fyne.
Well trainde in greeke, fitte for all arts
and one that will in space,
Trim imitate, and counterfeyte
ech countynuaunce with grace.
He can singe, though not cunninglye
Yet sweetlye at a table:
Muche wordes, and cracks do make I know
ones credit seeme lesse able.
When one setts out his wares to muche
as pretiouse stoofe alone,
For that for redie downe toulde coyne
he fayne woulde haue them gone,
Though I be pore, yet nothinge shall
compell me for to lye,
Cowpes man not one in all this towne
wil vse the thus as I.
Thou arte not all, this will I say,
(I speake it vnto the)
This boy ran once for feare of whip,
and na but once from me.
Bye him, oneles thou doste mistruste
that he should run away.
A man his coyne in suche a case
with small distruste mighte paye:
Thou boughts me knowinge all my faultes,
my nature toulde before,
Yet wilte thou haue to do with me
and troubleste me righte sore.
At our laste partinge, what I was
I toulde the plainelye than,
For suche office moste impotente,
a lame, vnable man.
And that thou shouldste not take me vp
with visage sad and glum,


Although no lettter vnto the
from me at all did cum:
What vaylde it me? If thou wouldste looke
vpon the lawes agayne,
And see how they do make for me
thou wouldst not thus complaine,
Because I haue not writ to the,
False of my word sayst thou:
The law will waye with me in this
I tould theeth is, or now.
Iucullus had a souldior, who
with warre much weryed than,
His voyage wayges being payd
all craftye, as he can
Whilste snorting like a very hogge
the foretoylede did groyne,
A pridgeman from him pryuilie
his money did purloyne.
Then like a woolfe most vehemente
agaynst him, and his foo
Incensd, with fellon fasting face
he flings, and fayreth so,
The councter Captaines standerd straighte
he swayed to the ground.
Garded about with force of men,
Enuyrounde thike and rounde.
Renoumed for this valiaunce
in ample recompence
They gaue him twentie sextersies
to kepe his port, and spence.
The prætor then (I woote not why)
began t'assayle a forte.
And lookinge for much good at him
spake to him in such soorte,
As would haue moued a very sheepe:
Goe lustye lad, (quoth he)


Prease on with luckie foote to where
thy pruice calleth the.
Famouse shalbe thy ritche rewarde:
march on why doste thou stay.
To whome the souldier quiet now
demuerlye did say.
Drad Syr a verye daster lowte
will suffer payne and pyne:
But then when he is spoylde of all
as I was erste of myne.
Rome was my norse, and scholemaistres,
and in her was I taughte
What damagemente the Troiane rowte
by dyre Achilles cawghte.
Athens she me instructed so
that sciences I knew,
And that wysely I could decerne
the false thinge from the true.
In Platos schole the morall lore
I gan to learne a pace
Whylst troublouse tymes, and hasserds hard
distrurbd me from that place.
The ciuill heate then me vntraynde
did animate to warre,
Warres which to match, with our August
vnable were by farre.
Thence lighted I in Thessalie
of fethers then deplumde,
I browght full low my house, and landes,
and all I had consumde.
Bould pouertie made me sterte vp,
to versefie, and ryme:
My verses neede not to be fande,
or scumd at anie tyme.
Excepte I would dispyse the arte,
and dissolutelye thinke,


That it is worse to versefie
then is to swill, or drincke.
Howbeit my wyt, which I haue had
beginnes for to decay,
And ech yeare plucks away from me
as it doth passe away.
My games, my iestes, my lustes, my feastes,
from me they made to go,
And now would steale my poems to.
what wouldste thou I should do?
Concernynge kyndes of vearse, not all
delyte in any one.
Thou louiste the common verse, and he
Iambique verse alone.
Sum lykes Satyrs, and thwartinge speache:
I haue thre at my borde,
Not one of them bowte anye thinge
with th' other will accorde.
Eche one from other straunged so
that diuerslye theye chuse.
What should I writ? or what not wryte?
He biddes, thou doste refuse.
That which thou craues, and doste alwayes
take in the better parte,
That other do mislike, and thinke
it, toto harshe, and tarte.
Againe, thinckes thou that I at Rome
my vearses can indyte
Mongst so much toyle, and such a coyle,
suche soking carke, and spyte.
He calls me for a sewertye,
an other for to heare,
(All other busines set a part)
his newe deuysed geare.
Helyes on mounte Quirine, and he
yont Auentine doth lye,


A sunder farre, yet to them both
to see them both must I.
Thou seeste the gay commodities
we sillie students get.
No thinge dothe wante, nor streate, nor talke
our studies for to let.
The horse, the carts, the merchantes toūgues,
a clattringe noyse of bells,
Now crosbow shotte, or peale of gunnes
our glasse wyndors downe fells.
Skrykyng, howlyng at funeralls,
the bawlinge masties crye:
The hoggs yell out, heers noble stuffe,
let him go nowe applye
His shrill tunes, sonets, that dothe thincke
this place to be so good.
The bookish crew did euer yet
delyte, to haunte the woodde,
Righte Bacchus Clyents, lyke to him,
they hayte to haunte the towne,
And vnder solytarye shade
to reste, and lye them downe.
Mongste hurlie burlye, nighte, and day
wouldste thou haue me to sing?
To treade in Poets narrow trace?
If Athens could not bringe
To sum with seauen yeares harde studye
greate plentie of hyr lore,
Though theye waxte ould with booke, and care,
Yet blocke heades, as before
Departe they home with shame enough:
I that am dwellynge here
Midste wrastlinge waues, and routinge storme;
of all this busie gere,
Can I in case so cummerouse,
in such turmoylinge tymes,


Fynde in myne harte to tune with harps
my iarringe Lyricke rymes.
I knew too Orators at Rome
th' one was to the other,
In mutuall prayse for both their gaynes
a faste ytrothed brother.
These franticke knackes haue Poets to
I wis I know it well:
I wryte Lyricks, he Elegies
both woorks say we excell:
Both woorkes becum the musies nyne,
behould with what a pride,
And what a doe we Poets walke,
and looke on euery syde.
Dogge thou vs once, and listen well,
and eftsones thou shalte heare
What goodlye felowes be we twayne,
why we the lawrell weare.
He kills me with his bablarie,
and I againe him quell.
To Samnet souldiers feightinge ill.
we are compared well.
I am Alceus by his doome:
and what is he by myne?
What but Calimachus? if yet
he woulde be more deuyne,
I call him great Mimermnus streighte,
thus by our wished name
We grow vp both, (as I cast it)
to be of flyinge fame.
I heare, and see, and say the beste,
and this law do I fynde
Easeful for me, leaste I stirre vp
the waspish Poets kynde.
And when my doings cum abroade,
for good will that theye beare me,


Thaile praise it, be it good or bad,
I neede not for to feare me.
Euil versefyers mocked be,
yet haue they to theire ioy,
Whilste theye indite, and reade theire toyes,
moste chearie, and moste coy.
If thou sayste noughte, they prayse them selues
lyke good ones as they be.
But if thou wilt good poems wryte
this will I say to the:
As thou in lawfull scanned vearse
canste well descryue a thinge:
So muste thou to into thy mynde
good law, and virtue bringe.
Thou muste be bould to seuer oute
words that be not of lighte,
Wordes of no weighte, and such as be
not prayse worthie in sighte.
Though they do cleaue vnto thy ryme
vnwilling to departe,
If they be noughte, though theye be vsd
of Poets in theire arte.
Thou must abandon vnquoth words,
and bringe eeke into vre
Brighte, lightsum stuffe, sounding, and graue,
not simple, and demure.
Wordes vsed by the antique Dans,
the fassions once did beare:
But now caste of for verie elde,
he muste bringe nouell geare,
Whiche father vse hath bred, and taughte
pythie, and playne wyth all.
To ritch his cuntry let his words
lyke flowing water fall.
Cut of processe, and sleake, and fyle
thou, that whiche runnes not rounde,


Picke, and cull out with heedefull skill
what s'euer is not sounde.
Ech personage in his righte Quue
take heede that thou dost frame,
In diuerse parts the gestures, and
th' effects, are not the same.
Rather to me for to be thoughte
a doulte, and dissard vyle,
If that my follye might please me,
or seeme good for a whyle:
Then to be wyse, and vexed ay:
(as wysemen be moste greued.)
A man well knowne in Arge there was,
who stedfastlye beleeued,
That he did heare braue melodie,
and see trim fellowes play.
Thus fanseinge, on an emptie stage
he would laugh all a day.
In all points ells an honest man
vnspotted in his lyfe:
A good neyghbour, a good fellow
peaceable with his wyfe.
No brawler in his familye,
nor angry for a crewse
Breakinge, no crafte of man, or place
could him in ought abuse.
When he by welth, and frindly helpe
recouered by, and by,
Had chasde awaye with herbes, and drinks
his ould melancolye,
And cominge to him selfe againe,
by God my frinds quoth he)
By this your doing you saue not
but you haue killed me.
From whom is gone, pleasure alone
the lyke can no man fynde:


So pleasante dotage cutte a waye
by curing of my mynde.
Certes its good for to be wise,
and cast these toyes awaye,
To leaue vnto the younger sorte
this riminge kinde of playe.
Not reulie to consume our dayes
in musicke sleight, and cleane,
But truly to direct our wayes
in measure, and in meane.
This thinge I oftens talke vpon,
and oft I thinke of this.
If that no lickoure coulde asswage
thy greedie thrust (I wis)
Thou wouldste tell the phisition:
the more that thou hast got
The more thou wants, confesse thy selfe
of this so fowle a spote.
If that with certayne rootes, and herbes
thy woundes could wel bee drest,
Wouldst thou therefore to heale thy selfe
neglect to do the best?
I sayde in deede that he was wyse
that had the coyne in store.
But since thou hast no more of witte
thoughe thou of wealthe haue more,
Why dost thou vse my counsaile still?
If ritches make one wise,
Lesse feareful, gredie, or (for fiew)
better in any wise,
This wote I wel, and dare speake it
thou wouldst ashamed be,
That any man which is alyue
should leue them more then the.
If that be thyne whych thou hast hyrde,
or which thou hast of oulde,


That is thyne owne which was to the
but verie lately soulde.
Thou bowghst the ground, and so it is
that vse hath made it thine:
Thou boughst it with thy propper goodes,
what should I more defyne?
What skils it whether thou dost liue
by purse, or by thy field,
If for thy fielde thoughe longe agoe
thou moneie once did yeelde?
He that doth thinke that goods, or landes
can be his owne for longe,
A foole is he, a fonded foole
and doth himselfe but wronge.
He cals it his, because without
controulment, he dare take it,
That thing which chaungeth in one hower
no man can stable make it.
That which doth run from man to man
in flitting fickle guyse,
By conquest, lot, by chop, or chaunge,
by prayer, and by prise.
No terme of state dothe dure for ay,
heires cum on, one by one,
As gliding waues in swiftye streames
are quickly cumd, and gone.
What proffits medowes, or els barnes,
our pastures, and our parkes:
What all, wherefore so gredelie
the moneie mucker carkes?
Pearles, stones, iewels, pictures
with costelie kynde of tainte,
Siluer or silks so liuely wroughte
as hand of man can paynt?
Since death at length thinges great, and lesse
doth wipe awaye as cleane


Successyuelie in such effect
as they had neuer beene.
Sum can not cum to haue this geare,
and sum men do not craue it:
And seinge what it is and workes,
by all meanes shun to haue it.
Why two brotherne, the one should set
more by a quyet life,
Then Heroldes palmes, and all his pompe
preserued stil by stryfe.
The other ritche doth neuer thincke
that he can haue enoughe,
And therefore delueth, hagthe, and heuthe,
by mooneshyne goes to ploughe.
God knowes, that God, whiche in the starres
hath temperde eche mans fate,
That nature God, which hathe so cleane
estraunged eche mans state,
That all men differ by their deedes:
But he is very sad
To see them euill, to see them good
as merrie and as glad.
I will take from my little heape,
and sewer I wil not snudge,
And as touching my successor,
I feare not if hee grudge.
Twixte prodigall and liberall,
fayne would I know of the
Twixt sparing, and the couetouse
if difference none be.
It differs much to spende alwayes,
and spende at honest tyme:
Differs from both, to catche, and snatche
with couetyse, and cryme.
Best is, as children vse, sumtymes
to learne, sumtymes to playe:


Sumtymes to get, of our gettinges
sumtymes for to assaye.
Neede, and an vncleane house fro me
let these two ills be gone:
Let whether hoyst, or sincke me down,
the worlde shall fynde me one.
I row not full saile, as I would
euer with wished wynde,
Yet doth the wether serue me so
I cum not farre behynde.
In credit, witte, in vertue, wealthe,
in outward shape, and face
Behinde the first, before the last,
I kepe the middle place.
Thou arte not couetouse thou sayst,
Be gone I like the well.
But didst thou with the couetyce
all other crymes expell?
Art thou without ambition
deuoyde of vaine desier,
Without all feare fantastical,
and hastie, chafing ire?
Dreames, charmes, iuglings witchcraftes, night booggs
wunders of Thessallie,
Canst thou contemne? the holly day
with worship dost thou plye?
Canst thou forgeue thy neighboures falt,
art thou not more austere,
And crabbe in conuersation
as oulde age draweth nere?
Of al these thornes that pricke mānes mind,
why pulles thou out but one?
If thou canst not lyue as thou shouldste,
from those that can, begone.
Ye worldlings, you that haue enough,
of meate, drincke, and of playe,


Surrender now, full time it is
for you to cum awaye.
Leste euen younge folke seinge you drinke
more then for you is meete
Do make of you mere mockinge stockes,
and campe you with theire feete.