Whan n.o.ble Rome all the worlde dyd gouerne Theyr councellers were olde men iust and prudent Whiche egally dyd euery thynge descerne Wherby theyr Empyre became so excellent But nowe a dayes he shall haue his intent That hath most golde, and so it is befall That aungels worke wonders in westmynster hall.

There cursyd coyne makyth the wronge seme right The cause of hym that lyueth in pouertye Hath no defence, tuycion, strength nor myght Suche is the olde custome of this faculte That colours oft cloke Justyce and equyte None can the mater fele nor vnderstonde Without the aungell be weyghty in his honde

Thus for the hunger of syluer and of golde Justyce and right is in captyuyte And as we se nat gyuen fre, but solde Nouther to estates, nor sympell comonte And though that many lawyers rightwysnes be Yet many other dysdayne to se the ryght And they ar suche as blynde Justycis syght

There is one and other alleged at the barre And namely suche as chrafty were in glose Upon the lawe: the clyentis stande afarre Full lytell knowynge howe the mater goose And many other the lawes clene transpose Folowynge the example, of lawyers dede and gone Tyll the pore Clyentis be etyn to the bone

It is not ynough to conforme thy mynde Unto the others faynyd opynyon Thou sholde say trouthe, so Justyce doth the bynde And also lawe gyueth the commyssyon To knowe hir, and kepe hir without transgressyon Lyst they whome thou hast Juged wrongfully Unto the hye Juge for vengeaunce on the crye.

Perchaunce thou thynkest that G.o.d taketh no hede To mannes dedys, nor workes of offence Yes certaynly he knowes thy thought and dede No thynge is secrete, nor hyd from his presence Wherefore if thou wylt gyde the by prudence Or thou gyue Jugement of mater lesse or more Take wyse mennys reade and good counsayle before

Loke in what Balance, what weyght and what mesure Thou seruest other. for thou shalt serued be With the same after this lyfe I the ensure.

If thou ryghtwysly Juge by lawe and equyte Thou shalt haue presence of G.o.ddes hyghe maiestye But if thou Juge amys: than shall Eacus (As Poetis sayth) h.e.l.l Juge thy rewarde discusse

G.o.d is aboue and regneth sempiternally.

Whiche shall vs deme at his last Jugement, And gyue rewardes to echone egally After suche fourme as he his lyfe hath spent Than shall we them se whome we as violent Traytours: haue put to wronge in worde or dede And after our deserte euen suche shall be our mede

There shall be no Bayle nor treatynge of maynpryse Ne worldly wysdome there shall no thynge preuayle There shall be no delayes vntyll another Syse But outher quyt, or to infernall Gayle.

Ill Juges so iuged, Lo here theyr trauayle Worthely rewarded in wo withouten ende.

Than shall no grace be graunted ne s.p.a.ce to amende.

THE ENUOY OF ALEXANDER BARCLAY THE TRANSLATOUR.

Therfore ye yonge Studentes of the Chauncery: (I speke nat to the olde the Cure of them is past) Remember that Justyce longe hath in bondage be Reduce ye hir nowe vnto lybertye at the last.

Endeuer you hir bondes to louse or to brast Hir raunsome is payde and more by a thousande pounde And yet alas the lady Justyce lyeth bounde.

Thoughe your fore Faders haue take hir prysoner And done hir in a Dongeon nat mete for hir degre Lay to your handes and helpe hir from daungere And hir restore vnto hir lybertye That pore men and monyles may hir onys se But certaynly I fere lyst she hath lost hir name Or by longe prysonment shall after euer be lame.

Of Auaryce or Couetyse and prodygalyte.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Ye that ar gyuen ouer moche to Couetyse Come nere, a place is here for you to dwel Come nere ye wastfull people in lyke wyse Youre rowme shall be hye in the Topcastell Ye care for no shame, for heuen nor for h.e.l.l Golde is your G.o.d, ryches gotten wrongfully Ye dame your soule, and yet lyue in penury.]

He that is besy euery day and houre Without mesure, maner, or moderacion To gather riches and great store of treasoure Therof no ioy takinge, confort nor consolacion.

He is a Fole: and of blynde and mad opynyon For that which he getteth and kepeth wrongfully His heyre often wasteth moche more vnthryftely.

While he here lyueth in this lyfe caduke and mortal.

Ful sore he laboureth: and oft hungry gothe to bed Sparinge from hymselfe: for hym that neuer shal After do hym goode. thoughe he were harde bested.

Thus is this Couetous wretche so blyndly led By the fende that here he lyueth wretchydly And after his deth d.a.m.ned eternally.

There wandreth he in dolour and derknes Amonge infernall flodes tedyous and horryble Let se what auayleth than all his ryches Ungracyously gotyne, his paynes ar terryble Than wolde he amende but it is inpossyble In h.e.l.l is no order nor hope of remedy But sorowe vpon sorowe, and that euerlastyngly.

Yet fynde I another vyce as bad as this Whiche is the vyce of prodygalyte He spendyth all in ryot and amys Without all order, pursuynge pouertye He lyketh nat to lyue styll in prosperite But all and more he wastyth out at large (Beware the ende) is the leste poynt of his charge.

But of the couetous somwhat to say agayne Thou art a fole thy soule to sell for riches Or put thy body to labour or to payne Thy mynde to fere, thy herte to heuynesse Thou fole thou fleest no maner cruelnesse So thou may get money, to make thy heyr a knyght Thou sleest thy soule where as thou saue it myght

Thou hast no rest thy mynde is euer in fere Of mysauenture, nor neuer art content Deth is forgoten, thou carest nat a here To saue thy soule from infernall punysshement If thou be dampned, than art thou at thy stent By thy ryches which thou here hast left behynde To thy executours, thou shalt small comforte fynde

Theyr custome is to holde fast that they haue Thy pore soule shall be farthest fro theyr thought If that thy carkes be brought onys in the graue And that they haue thy bagges in handes cought What say they, than (by G.o.d the man had nought) Whyle he here lyuyd he was to lyberall Thus dampned is thy soule, thy ryches cause of all

Who wyll denay but it is necesary Of riches for to haue plenty and store To this opynyon I wyll nat say contrary So it be ordred after holy lore Whyle thy selfe leuest departe some to the pore With thy owne hande trust nat thy executours Gyue for G.o.d, and G.o.d shall sende at all houres

Rede Tullius warkes the worthy Oratour.

And writen shalt thou fynde in right fruteful sentence That neuer wyseman loued ouer great honour.

Nor to haue great riches put ouer great diligence But onely theyr mynde was set on Sapience And quyetly to lyue in Just symplycite.

For in greatest honour is greatest ieoperdye.

He that is symple, and on the grounde doth lye And that can be content with ynoughe or suffisaunce Is surer by moche than he that lyeth on hye.

Nowe vp nowe downe vnsure as a Balaunce.

But sothly he that set wyll his plesance Onely on wysdom and styl therfore labour.

Shal haue more goode than all erthly tresour.

Wysdom techeth to eschewe al offence.

Gydynge mankynde the ryght way to vertue.

But of couetyse Comys all Inconuenyence.

It cawseth man of worde to be vntrue.

Forswerynge and falshode doth it also ensue.

Brybery and Extorcion, murder and myschefe.

Shame is his ende: his lyuyinge is reprefe.

By couetyse Cra.s.sus brought was to his ende.

By it the worthy Romayns lost theyr name.

Of this one yl a thousand ylles doth descende.

Besyde enuy, Pryde, wretchydnes and Shame.

Crates the Philosopher dyd Couetyse so blame: That to haue his mynde vnto his stody fre.

He threwe his Tresour all hole into the see.

But shortly to conclude. Both bodely bondage.

And gostly also: procedeth of this couetyse.

The soule is d.a.m.ned the body hath damage As hunger, thyrst, and colde with other preiudice.

Bereft of the ioyes of heuenly Paradyse.

For golde was theyr G.o.d and that is left behynde Theyr bodyes beryed the soule clene out of mynde

THE ENUOY OF ALEXANDER BARCLAY TRANSLATOUR.

Therefore thou couetouse thou wretch I speke to the.

Amende thy selfe ryse out of this blyndenes.

Content the wyth ynoughe for thy degre.

Dam nat thy soule by gatheringe frayle riches Remembre this is a Uale of wretchednes.

Thou shalt no rest nor dwellynge place here fynde.

Depart thou shalt and leue it al behynde.

Of newe fa.s.sions and disgised Garmentes.