The workes of Sir Thomas More ... wrytten by him in the Englysh tonge |
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Certain meters in english written by master Thomas More in hys youth for the
boke of Fortune, and caused them to be printed in the begynnyng of that boke.
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 | The workes of Sir Thomas More |  |
Certain meters in english written by master Thomas More in hys youth for the boke of Fortune, and caused them to be printed in the begynnyng of that boke.
The wordes of Fortune to the people.
Mine high estate power and auctoritie,
If ye ne know, enserche and ye shall spye,
That richesse, worship, welth, and dignitie,
Joy, rest, and peace, and all thyng fynally,
That any pleasure or profit may come by,
To mannes comfort, ayde, and sustinaunce,
Is all at my deuyse and ordinaunce.
If ye ne know, enserche and ye shall spye,
That richesse, worship, welth, and dignitie,
Joy, rest, and peace, and all thyng fynally,
That any pleasure or profit may come by,
To mannes comfort, ayde, and sustinaunce,
Is all at my deuyse and ordinaunce.
Without my fauour there is nothyng wonne.
Many a matter haue I brought at last,
To good conclusion, that fondly was begonne.
And many a purpose, bounden sure and fast
with wise prouision, I have ouercast.
without good happe there may no wit suffise,
Better is to be fortunate than wyse.
Many a matter haue I brought at last,
To good conclusion, that fondly was begonne.
And many a purpose, bounden sure and fast
with wise prouision, I have ouercast.
without good happe there may no wit suffise,
Better is to be fortunate than wyse.
And therefore hath there some men bene or this,
My deadly foes and written many a boke,
To my disprayse. And other cause there nys,
But for me list not frendly on them loke,
Thus lyke the fox they fare that once forsoke,
The pleasaunt grapes, and gan for to defy them,
Because he lept and yet could not come by them.
My deadly foes and written many a boke,
To my disprayse. And other cause there nys,
But for me list not frendly on them loke,
Thus lyke the fox they fare that once forsoke,
The pleasaunt grapes, and gan for to defy them,
Because he lept and yet could not come by them.
But let them write theyr labour is in vayne,
For well ye wote, myrth, honour, and richesse,
Much better is than penury and payne.
The nedy wretch that lingereth in distresse,
without myne helpe is euer comfortlesse,
A wery burden odious and loth,
To all the world, and eke to him selfe both.
For well ye wote, myrth, honour, and richesse,
Much better is than penury and payne.
The nedy wretch that lingereth in distresse,
without myne helpe is euer comfortlesse,
A wery burden odious and loth,
To all the world, and eke to him selfe both.
But he that by my fauour may ascende,
To mighty power and excellent degree,
A common wele to gouerne and defende,
O in how blist condicion standeth he:
Him self in honour and felicite,
And ouer that, may forther and encrease,
A region hole in joyfull rest and peace.
To mighty power and excellent degree,
A common wele to gouerne and defende,
O in how blist condicion standeth he:
Him self in honour and felicite,
And ouer that, may forther and encrease,
A region hole in joyfull rest and peace.
Now in this poynt there is no more to say,
Eche man hath of him self the gouernaunce.
Let every wight than folowe his owne way.
And he that our of pouertee and mischaunce,
List for to live, and wyll hym selfe enhaunce,
In wealth & richesse, come forth and wayte on me.
And he that wyll be a beggar, let hym be.
Eche man hath of him self the gouernaunce.
And he that our of pouertee and mischaunce,
List for to live, and wyll hym selfe enhaunce,
In wealth & richesse, come forth and wayte on me.
And he that wyll be a beggar, let hym be.
Thomas More to them that trust in fortune.
Thou that art prowde of honour shape or kynne.
That hepest vp this wretched worldes treasure,
Thy fingers shrined with gold, thy tawny skynne,
With fresh apparayle garnished out of measure,
And wenest to haue fortune at thy pleasure,
Cast up thyne eye, and loke how slipper chaunce,
Illudeth her men with chaunge and varyaunce.
That hepest vp this wretched worldes treasure,
Thy fingers shrined with gold, thy tawny skynne,
With fresh apparayle garnished out of measure,
And wenest to haue fortune at thy pleasure,
Cast up thyne eye, and loke how slipper chaunce,
Illudeth her men with chaunge and varyaunce.
Sometyme she loketh as louely fayre and bright,
As goodly Uenus mother of Cupyde.
She becketh and she smileth on euery wight.
But this chere fayned, may not long abide.
There commeth a cloude, and farewell all our pryde.
Like any serpent she beginneth to swell,
And looketh as fierce as any fury of hell.
As goodly Uenus mother of Cupyde.
She becketh and she smileth on euery wight.
But this chere fayned, may not long abide.
There commeth a cloude, and farewell all our pryde.
Like any serpent she beginneth to swell,
And looketh as fierce as any fury of hell.
yet for all that we brotle men are fayne,
(So wretched is our nature and so blynde)
As soone as Fortune list to laugh agayne,
With fayre countenaunce and disceitfull mynde,
To crouche and knele and gape after the wynde,
Not one or twayne but thousandes in a rout,
Lyke swarmyng bees come flickeryng her aboute.
(So wretched is our nature and so blynde)
As soone as Fortune list to laugh agayne,
With fayre countenaunce and disceitfull mynde,
To crouche and knele and gape after the wynde,
Not one or twayne but thousandes in a rout,
Lyke swarmyng bees come flickeryng her aboute.
Then as a bayte she bryngeth forth her ware,
Silver, gold, riche perle, and precious stone:
On whiche the mased people gase and stare,
And gape therefore, as dogges doe for the bone.
Fortune at them laugheth, and in her trone
Amyd her treasure and waveryng rychesse,
Prowdly she houeth as lady and empresse.
Silver, gold, riche perle, and precious stone:
On whiche the mased people gase and stare,
And gape therefore, as dogges doe for the bone.
Fortune at them laugheth, and in her trone
Amyd her treasure and waveryng rychesse,
Prowdly she houeth as lady and empresse.
Fast by her syde doth wery Labour stand,
Pale Fere also, and Sorow all bewept,
Disdayn and Hatred on that other hand,
Eke restles watche fro slepe with trauayle kept,
His eyes drowsy and lokyng as he slept.
Before her standeth Daunger and Enuy,
Flattery, Dysceyt, Mischiefe and Tiranny.
Pale Fere also, and Sorow all bewept,
Disdayn and Hatred on that other hand,
His eyes drowsy and lokyng as he slept.
Before her standeth Daunger and Enuy,
Flattery, Dysceyt, Mischiefe and Tiranny.
About her commeth all the world to begge.
He asketh lande, and he to pas would bryng,
This toye and that, and all not worth an egge:
He would in loue prosper aboue all thyng:
He kneleth downe and would be made a kyng:
He forceth not so he may money haue,
Though all the worlde accompt hym for a knaue.
He asketh lande, and he to pas would bryng,
This toye and that, and all not worth an egge:
He would in loue prosper aboue all thyng:
He kneleth downe and would be made a kyng:
He forceth not so he may money haue,
Though all the worlde accompt hym for a knaue.
Lo thus ye see diuers heddes, diuers wittes.
Fortune alone as diuers as they all,
Unstable here and there among them flittes:
And at auenture downe her giftes fall,
Catch who so may she throweth great and small
Not to all men, as commeth sonne or dewe,
But for the most part, all among a fewe.
Fortune alone as diuers as they all,
Unstable here and there among them flittes:
And at auenture downe her giftes fall,
Catch who so may she throweth great and small
Not to all men, as commeth sonne or dewe,
But for the most part, all among a fewe.
And yet her brotell giftes long may not last.
He that she gaue them, loketh prowde and hye.
She whirlth about and pluckth away as fast,
And geueth them to an other by and by.
And thus from man to man continually,
She vseth to geve and take, and slily tosse,
One man to wynnyng of an others losse.
He that she gaue them, loketh prowde and hye.
She whirlth about and pluckth away as fast,
And geueth them to an other by and by.
And thus from man to man continually,
She vseth to geve and take, and slily tosse,
One man to wynnyng of an others losse.
And when she robbeth one, down goth his pryde.
He wepeth and wayleth and curseth her full sore.
But he that receueth it, on that other syde,
Is glad, and blesth her often tymes therefore.
But in a whyle when she loueth hym no more,
She glydeth from hym, and her giftes to.
And he her curseth as other fooles do.
He wepeth and wayleth and curseth her full sore.
But he that receueth it, on that other syde,
Is glad, and blesth her often tymes therefore.
But in a whyle when she loueth hym no more,
She glydeth from hym, and her giftes to.
And he her curseth as other fooles do.
Alas the folysh people can not cease,
Ne voyd her trayne, tyll they the harme do fele.
About her alway, besely they preace.
But lord how he doth thynk hym self full wele.
That may set once his hande vppon her whele.
He holdeth fast: but vpwarde as he flieth,
She whippeth her whele about, and there he lyeth.
Ne voyd her trayne, tyll they the harme do fele.
About her alway, besely they preace.
But lord how he doth thynk hym self full wele.
That may set once his hande vppon her whele.
He holdeth fast: but vpwarde as he flieth,
She whippeth her whele about, and there he lyeth.
Thus fell Julius from his mighty power.
Thus fell Darius the worthy kyng of Perse.
Thus fell Alexander the great conquerour.
Thus many mo then I may well reherse.
Thus double fortune, when she lyst reuerse
Her slipper fauour fro them that in her trust,
She fleeth her wey and leyeth them in the dust.
Thus fell Darius the worthy kyng of Perse.
Thus fell Alexander the great conquerour.
Thus many mo then I may well reherse.
Thus double fortune, when she lyst reuerse
Her slipper fauour fro them that in her trust,
She fleeth her wey and leyeth them in the dust.
She sodeinly enhaunceth them a loft.
And sodeynly mischeueth all the flocke.
The head that late lay easily and full soft,
In stede of pylows lyeth after on the blocke.
And yet alas the most cruell proude mocke:
The deynty mowth that ladyes kissed haue,
She bryngeth in the case to kysse a knaue.
And sodeynly mischeueth all the flocke.
The head that late lay easily and full soft,
In stede of pylows lyeth after on the blocke.
And yet alas the most cruell proude mocke:
The deynty mowth that ladyes kissed haue,
She bryngeth in the case to kysse a knaue.
In chaungying of her course, the chaunge shewth this,
Up startth a knaue, and downe there falth a knyght,
The beggar ryche, and the ryche man pore is.
Hatred is turned to loue, loue to despyght.
This is her sport, thus proueth she her myght.
Great boste she maketh yf one be by her power,
Welthy and wretched both within an howre.
Up startth a knaue, and downe there falth a knyght,
The beggar ryche, and the ryche man pore is.
Hatred is turned to loue, loue to despyght.
This is her sport, thus proueth she her myght.
Great boste she maketh yf one be by her power,
Welthy and wretched both within an howre.
Povertee that of her giftes wyl nothing take,
Wyth mery chere, looketh vppon the prece,
And seeth how fortunes houshold goeth to wrake.
Fast by her standeth the wyse Socrates.
Arristippus, Pythagoras, and many a lese.
Of olde Philosophers. And eke agaynst the sonne
Bekyth hym poore Diogenes in his tonne.
Wyth mery chere, looketh vppon the prece,
And seeth how fortunes houshold goeth to wrake.
Fast by her standeth the wyse Socrates.
Arristippus, Pythagoras, and many a lese.
Of olde Philosophers. And eke agaynst the sonne
Bekyth hym poore Diogenes in his tonne.
With her is Byas, whose countrey lackt defence,
And whylom of their foes stode so in dout,
That eche man hastely gan to cary thence,
And asked hym why he nought caryed out.
I bere quod he all myne with me about:
Wisedom he ment, not fortunes brotle fees.
For nought he counted his that he might leese.
And whylom of their foes stode so in dout,
That eche man hastely gan to cary thence,
And asked hym why he nought caryed out.
I bere quod he all myne with me about:
Wisedom he ment, not fortunes brotle fees.
For nought he counted his that he might leese.
Heraclitus eke, lyst felowship to kepe
With glad pouertee, Democritus also:
Of which the fyrst can neuer cease but wepe,
To see how thick the blynded people go,
With labour great to purchase care and wo.
That other laugheth to see the foolysh apes,
Howe earnestly they walke about theyr tapes.
With glad pouertee, Democritus also:
Of which the fyrst can neuer cease but wepe,
To see how thick the blynded people go,
That other laugheth to see the foolysh apes,
Howe earnestly they walke about theyr tapes.
Of this poore sect, it is comen vsage,
Onely to take that nature may sustayne,
Banishing cleane all other surplusage,
They be content, and of nothyng complayne.
No nygarde eke is of his good so fayne,
But they more pleasure have a thousande folde,
The secrete draughtes of nature to beholde.
Onely to take that nature may sustayne,
Banishing cleane all other surplusage,
They be content, and of nothyng complayne.
No nygarde eke is of his good so fayne,
But they more pleasure have a thousande folde,
The secrete draughtes of nature to beholde.
Set fortunes seruauntes by them and ye wull,
That one is free, that other euer thrall,
That one content, that other neuer full.
That one in suretye, that other lyke to fall.
Who lyst to aduise them bothe, parceyue he shall,
As great difference betwene them as we see,
Betwixte wretchednes and felicite.
That one is free, that other euer thrall,
That one content, that other neuer full.
That one in suretye, that other lyke to fall.
Who lyst to aduise them bothe, parceyue he shall,
As great difference betwene them as we see,
Betwixte wretchednes and felicite.
Now haue I shewed you bothe: chese whiche ye lyst,
Stately fortune, or humble pouertee:
That is to say, nowe lyeth it in your fyst,
To take here bondage, or free libertee.
But in thys poynte and ye do after me,
Draw you to fortune, and labour her to please,
If that ye thynke your selfe to well at ease.
Stately fortune, or humble pouertee:
That is to say, nowe lyeth it in your fyst,
To take here bondage, or free libertee.
But in thys poynte and ye do after me,
Draw you to fortune, and labour her to please,
If that ye thynke your selfe to well at ease.
And fyrst, vppon the louely shall she smile,
And frendly on the cast her wandering eyes,
Embrace the in her armes, and for a whyle,
Put the and kepe the in a fooles paradise:
And foorth with all what so thou lyst deuise,
She wyll the graunt it liberally parhappes:
But for all that beware of after clappes.
And frendly on the cast her wandering eyes,
Embrace the in her armes, and for a whyle,
Put the and kepe the in a fooles paradise:
And foorth with all what so thou lyst deuise,
She wyll the graunt it liberally parhappes:
But for all that beware of after clappes.
Recken you neuer of her fauoure sure:
ye may in clowds as easily trace an hare,
Or in drye lande cause fishes to endure,
And make the burnyng fyre his heate to spare,
And all thys worlde in compace to forfare,
As her to make by craft or engine stable,
That of her nature is euer variable.
ye may in clowds as easily trace an hare,
Or in drye lande cause fishes to endure,
And make the burnyng fyre his heate to spare,
And all thys worlde in compace to forfare,
As her to make by craft or engine stable,
That of her nature is euer variable.
Serue her day and nyght as reuerently,
Uppon thy knees as any seruaunt may,
And in conclusion, that thou shalt winne thereby
Shall not be worth thy seruyce I dare say.
And looke yet what she geueth the to day,
With labour wonne she shall happly to morow
Pluck it agayne out of thyne hande with sorow.
Uppon thy knees as any seruaunt may,
And in conclusion, that thou shalt winne thereby
Shall not be worth thy seruyce I dare say.
And looke yet what she geueth the to day,
With labour wonne she shall happly to morow
Pluck it agayne out of thyne hande with sorow.
Wherefore yf thou in suretye lyst to stande,
Take pouerties parte and let prowde fortune go,
Receyue nothyng that commeth from her hande:
Loue maner and vertue: they be onely tho.
Whiche double fortune may not take the fro.
Then mayst thou boldly defye her turnyng chaunce:
She can the neyther hynder nor auaunce.
Take pouerties parte and let prowde fortune go,
Receyue nothyng that commeth from her hande:
Loue maner and vertue: they be onely tho.
Whiche double fortune may not take the fro.
Then mayst thou boldly defye her turnyng chaunce:
She can the neyther hynder nor auaunce.
But and thou wylt nedes medle with her treasure,
Trust not therein, and spende it liberally.
Beare the not proude, nor take not out of measure.
Bylde not thyne house on heyth vp in the skye
None falleth farre, but he that climbeth hye,
Remember nature sent the hyther bare,
The gyftes of fortune count them borowed ware.
Trust not therein, and spende it liberally.
Beare the not proude, nor take not out of measure.
Bylde not thyne house on heyth vp in the skye
None falleth farre, but he that climbeth hye,
Remember nature sent the hyther bare,
The gyftes of fortune count them borowed ware.
Thomas More to them that seke fortune.
Whoso delyteth to prouen and assay,
Of waueryng fortune the uncertayne lot,
If that the aunswere please you not alway,
Blame ye not me: for I commaunde you not,
Fortune to trust, and eke full well ye wot,
I have of her no brydle in my fist,
She renneth loose, and turneth where she lyst.
Of waueryng fortune the uncertayne lot,
If that the aunswere please you not alway,
Blame ye not me: for I commaunde you not,
Fortune to trust, and eke full well ye wot,
I have of her no brydle in my fist,
She renneth loose, and turneth where she lyst.
The rollyng dyse in whome your lucke doth stande,
With whose vnhappy chaunce ye be so wroth,
Ye knowe your selfe came neuer in myne hande.
Lo in this ponde be fyshe and frogges both.
Cast in your nette: but be you liefe or lothe,
Holde you content as fortune lyst assyne:
For it is your owne fishyng and not myne.
With whose vnhappy chaunce ye be so wroth,
Ye knowe your selfe came neuer in myne hande.
Lo in this ponde be fyshe and frogges both.
Cast in your nette: but be you liefe or lothe,
Holde you content as fortune lyst assyne:
For it is your owne fishyng and not myne.
And though in one chaunce fortune you offend,
Grudge not there at, but beare a mery face.
In many an other she shall it amende.
There is no manne so farre out of her grace,
But he sometyme hath comfort and solace:
Ne none agayne so farre foorth in her fauour,
That is full satisfyed with her behauiour.
In many an other she shall it amende.
There is no manne so farre out of her grace,
But he sometyme hath comfort and solace:
Ne none agayne so farre foorth in her fauour,
That is full satisfyed with her behauiour.
Fortune is stately, solemne, prowde, and hye:
And rychesse geueth, to have seruyce therefore.
The nedy begger catcheth an halfpeny:
Some manne a thousande pounde, some lesse some more.
But for all that she kepeth euer in store,
From euery manne some parcell of his wyll,
That he may pray therfore and serue her styll.
And rychesse geueth, to have seruyce therefore.
The nedy begger catcheth an halfpeny:
Some manne a thousande pounde, some lesse some more.
But for all that she kepeth euer in store,
From euery manne some parcell of his wyll,
That he may pray therfore and serue her styll.
Some manne hath good, but chyldren hath he none,
Some man hath both, but he can get none health.
Some hath al thre, but vp to honours trone,
Can he not crepe, by no maner of stelth.
To some she sendeth, children, ryches, welthe,
Honour, woorshyp, and reuerence all hys lyfe:
But yet she pyncheth hym with a shrewde wyfe.
Some man hath both, but he can get none health.
Some hath al thre, but vp to honours trone,
Can he not crepe, by no maner of stelth.
To some she sendeth, children, ryches, welthe,
Honour, woorshyp, and reuerence all hys lyfe:
But yet she pyncheth hym with a shrewde wyfe.
Then for asmuch as it is fortunes guyse,
To graunt no manne all thyng that he wyll axe,
But as her selfe lyst order and devyse,
Dothe euery manne his parte diuide and tax,
I counsayle you eche one trusse vp your packes,
And take no thyng at all, or be content,
With suche rewarde as fortune hath you sent.
To graunt no manne all thyng that he wyll axe,
But as her selfe lyst order and devyse,
Dothe euery manne his parte diuide and tax,
I counsayle you eche one trusse vp your packes,
And take no thyng at all, or be content,
With suche rewarde as fortune hath you sent.
All thynges in this boke that ye shall rede,
Doe as ye lyst, there shall no manne you bynde,
Them to beleve, as surely as your crede.
But notwithstandyng certes in my mynde,
I durst well swere, as true ye shall them fynde,
In euery poynt eche answere by and by,
As are the iudgementes of Astronomye.
Doe as ye lyst, there shall no manne you bynde,
Them to beleve, as surely as your crede.
But notwithstandyng certes in my mynde,
I durst well swere, as true ye shall them fynde,
In euery poynt eche answere by and by,
As are the iudgementes of Astronomye.
Thus endeth the preface to the booke of fortune.
| The workes of Sir Thomas More | |