The Pastime of Pleasure by Stephen Hawes A literal reprint of the earliest complete copy (1517) with variant readings from the editions of 1509, 1554, and 1555 together with introduction notes, glossary, and indexes: By William Edward Mead |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IIII. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIIII. |
A cōmēdacyō of Gower / chaucer / & lydgate Ca. xiiii.
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| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIIII. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
| XLII. |
| XLIIII. |
| XLV. |
| XLVI. |
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A cōmēdacyō of Gower / chaucer / & lydgate Ca. xiiii.
The Pastime of Pleasure by Stephen Hawes |  |
XIIII. A cōmēdacyō of Gower / chaucer / & lydgate Ca. xiiii.
O thoughtfull herte / tombled all aboute
Vpon the se / of stormy ygnoraunce
For to sayle forthe / thou arte in grete doute
Ouer the wawes / of grete encombraunce
Without ony comforte / saufe of esperaunce
Whiche the exorteth / hardely to sayle
Vnto thy purpose / with dylygent trauayle
Vpon the se / of stormy ygnoraunce
For to sayle forthe / thou arte in grete doute
Ouer the wawes / of grete encombraunce
Without ony comforte / saufe of esperaunce
Whiche the exorteth / hardely to sayle
Vnto thy purpose / with dylygent trauayle
Aufrycus auster / bloweth frowardly
Towarde the lande / and habytacyon
Of thy well fauerde / and most fayre lady
For whose sake / and delectacyon
Thou hast take / this occupacyon
Pryncypally / ryght well to attayne
Her swete rewarde / for thy besy payne
Towarde the lande / and habytacyon
Of thy well fauerde / and most fayre lady
For whose sake / and delectacyon
Thou hast take / this occupacyon
Pryncypally / ryght well to attayne
Her swete rewarde / for thy besy payne
O pensyfe herte / in the stormy pery
Mercury northwest / thou mayst se appere
After tempest / to glad thyne emyspery
Hoyse vp thy sayle / for thou muste drawe nere
Towarde the ende / of thy purpos so clere
Remembre the / of the trace and daunce
Of poetes olde / with all thy purueyaunce
Mercury northwest / thou mayst se appere
After tempest / to glad thyne emyspery
Hoyse vp thy sayle / for thou muste drawe nere
Towarde the ende / of thy purpos so clere
Remembre the / of the trace and daunce
Of poetes olde / with all thy purueyaunce
As morall gower / whose sentencyous dewe
Adowne reflayreth / with fayre golden beames
And after Chaucers / all abrode doth shewe
Our vyces to clense / his depared stremes
Kyndlynge our hertes / with the fyry leames
Of morall vertue / as is probable
In all his bokes / so swete and prouffytable
Adowne reflayreth / with fayre golden beames
And after Chaucers / all abrode doth shewe
Our vyces to clense / his depared stremes
Kyndlynge our hertes / with the fyry leames
Of morall vertue / as is probable
55
The boke of fame / whiche is sentencyous
He drewe hymselfe / on his owne inuēcyon
And than the tragydyes / so pytous
Of the nyntene ladyes / was his traslacyon
And vpon his ymagynacyon
He made also / the tales of Caunterbury
Some vertuous / and some glade and mery
He drewe hymselfe / on his owne inuēcyon
And than the tragydyes / so pytous
Of the nyntene ladyes / was his traslacyon
And vpon his ymagynacyon
He made also / the tales of Caunterbury
Some vertuous / and some glade and mery
And of Troylus / the pytous dolour
For his lady Cresyde / full of doublenesse
He dyde bewayle / full well the langoure
Of all his loue / and grete vnhappynesse
And many other bokes doubtles
He dyde compyle / whose goodly name
In prynted bokes / doth remayne in fame
For his lady Cresyde / full of doublenesse
He dyde bewayle / full well the langoure
Of all his loue / and grete vnhappynesse
And many other bokes doubtles
He dyde compyle / whose goodly name
In prynted bokes / doth remayne in fame
And after hym / my mayster Lydgate
The monke of Bury / dyde hym well apply
Bothe to contryue / and eke to translate
And of vertue / euer in especyally
For he dyde compyle than full nyally
Of our blyssed lady / the conuersacyon
Saynt Edmundes lyfe / martred with treason
The monke of Bury / dyde hym well apply
Bothe to contryue / and eke to translate
And of vertue / euer in especyally
For he dyde compyle than full nyally
Of our blyssed lady / the conuersacyon
Saynt Edmundes lyfe / martred with treason
Of the fall of prynces / so ryght wofully
He dyde endyte / in all pytous wyse
Folowynge his auctour / Bocas rufully
A ryght grete boke / he dyde truely compryse
A good ensample / for vs to dyspyse
This worlde so full / of mutabylyte
In whiche no man / can haue a certaynte
He dyde endyte / in all pytous wyse
Folowynge his auctour / Bocas rufully
A ryght grete boke / he dyde truely compryse
A good ensample / for vs to dyspyse
This worlde so full / of mutabylyte
In whiche no man / can haue a certaynte
56
And thre reasons / ryght gretely prouffytable
Vnder coloure / he cloked craftely
And of the chorle / he made the fable
That shytte the byrde / in a cage so closely
The pamflete sheweth it expressely
He fayned also / the court of sapyence
And translated / with all his dylygence
Vnder coloure / he cloked craftely
And of the chorle / he made the fable
That shytte the byrde / in a cage so closely
The pamflete sheweth it expressely
He fayned also / the court of sapyence
And translated / with all his dylygence
The grete boke / of the last destruccyon
Of the cyte of Troye / whylome so famous
How for woman / was the confusyon
And bytwene vertue / and the lyfe vycyous
Of goddes and goddes / a boke solacyous
He dyde compyle / and the tyme to passe
Of loue he made / the bryght temple of glasse
Of the cyte of Troye / whylome so famous
How for woman / was the confusyon
And bytwene vertue / and the lyfe vycyous
Of goddes and goddes / a boke solacyous
He dyde compyle / and the tyme to passe
Of loue he made / the bryght temple of glasse
Were not these thre / gretely to commende
Whiche them applyed suche bokes to contryue
Whose famous draughtes no man can amende
The syme of slothe they dyde frome them dryue
After theyr dethe for to abyde on lyue
In worthy fame by many a nacyon
Theyr bokes / theyr actes do make relacyon
Whiche them applyed suche bokes to contryue
Whose famous draughtes no man can amende
The syme of slothe they dyde frome them dryue
After theyr dethe for to abyde on lyue
In worthy fame by many a nacyon
Theyr bokes / theyr actes do make relacyon
O mayster Lydgate / the moste dulcet sprynge
Of famous rethoryke / with balade ryall
The chefe orygynall of my lernynge
What vayleth it / on you for to call
Me for to ayde / now in especyally
Sythen your body / is now wrapte in cheste
I praye god / to gyue your soule good reste
Of famous rethoryke / with balade ryall
The chefe orygynall of my lernynge
What vayleth it / on you for to call
Me for to ayde / now in especyally
Sythen your body / is now wrapte in cheste
I praye god / to gyue your soule good reste
O what losse is it / of suche a one
It is to grete truely / me for to tell
Sythen the tyme / that his lyfe was gone
In all this realme / his pere dyde not dwell
Aboue all other / he dyde so excell
None syth his tyme / art wolde succede
After theyr deth / to haue fame for theyr mede
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Sythen the tyme / that his lyfe was gone
In all this realme / his pere dyde not dwell
Aboue all other / he dyde so excell
None syth his tyme / art wolde succede
After theyr deth / to haue fame for theyr mede
But many a one / is ryght well experte
In this connynge / but vpon auctoryte
They fayne no fables / pleasaunt and couerte
But spend theyr tyme / in vaynfull vanyte
Makynge balades / of feruent amyte
As gestes and tryfles / without fruytfulnes
Thus all in vayne / they spende theyr besynes
In this connynge / but vpon auctoryte
They fayne no fables / pleasaunt and couerte
But spend theyr tyme / in vaynfull vanyte
Makynge balades / of feruent amyte
As gestes and tryfles / without fruytfulnes
Thus all in vayne / they spende theyr besynes
I lytell or nought / expert in poetry
Of my mayster Lydgate / wyll folowe the trace
As euermore / so his name to magnyfy
With suche lytell bokes / by goddes grace
Yf in this worlde / I maye haue the space
The lytell connynge / that his grace me sent
In tyme amonge / in such wyse shall be spent
Of my mayster Lydgate / wyll folowe the trace
As euermore / so his name to magnyfy
With suche lytell bokes / by goddes grace
Yf in this worlde / I maye haue the space
The lytell connynge / that his grace me sent
In tyme amonge / in such wyse shall be spent
And yet nothynge / vpon presumpcyon
My mayster Lydgate / I will not enuy
But all onely / is myne intencyon
With suche labour / my selfe to occupy
As whyte by blacke / doth shyne more clerely
So shall theyr maters / appere more pleasaunt
Bysyde my draughtes / rude and ygnoraunt
My mayster Lydgate / I will not enuy
But all onely / is myne intencyon
With suche labour / my selfe to occupy
As whyte by blacke / doth shyne more clerely
So shall theyr maters / appere more pleasaunt
Bysyde my draughtes / rude and ygnoraunt
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A cōmēdacyō of Gower / chaucer / & lydgate Ca. xiiii.
The Pastime of Pleasure by Stephen Hawes | |