O cruell Athenes by thy ingratytude Hast thou nat banysshyd Solon also fro the Though he enfourmyd hath thy maners rude And gyuyn the lawes of right and equyte For his great meryte, loue and benygnyte Thou hast hym gyuen exyle and paynes harde His labour was nat worthy that rewarde

Thou vnkynde Sparta: of thy audacyte What shall I wryte or thy lewde vnkyndnes Hast thou nat banysshed by thy cruelte Thy kynge Lycurgus, bycause he dyd redres Thy wanton errours by lawe and rightwysnes And Scipio whiche his country dyd defende Fonde it to hym, vnkynde at the last ende

A thousande mo whome I can nat expresse To suche as haue for them abyde great payne Haue done displeasour, and shewed vnkyndnes And them disceyued by some cautele or trayne Yet none of them great goodnes cowde obtayne By theyr vnkyndnes for who that so doth cast Vnkyndly shall be seruyd at the last.

THENUOY OF BARKLAY.

O fals vnkyndnes out on the I cry From all goodnes dost thou nat man withdrawe Byndynge his herte to gyle and vylany Agaynst nature, agaynst both right and lawe Thou makest man his maker nat to knawe Therfore thou man expell out from thy mynde This vyce, for we fynde in an olde sayde sawe Wo is hym that to his maker is vnkynde.

Remember man the great preemynence Gyuen unto the by good omnypotent Bytwene the and Angels is lytell difference And all thynge erthly to the obedyent Fysshe byrde and beste vnder the fyrmament Say what excuse mayst thou nowe lay or fynde Syns thou art made by G.o.d so excellent But that thou oughtest agayne to hym be kynde.

G.o.d hath the made vnto his owne lykenes No erthly creature vnto the comparable Thy iyen vpwarde to consyder his hyghnes Where other creatures that ar vnresonable Goeth on all foure and ar nat other able.

Theyr loke alway vnto the grounde inclynyd Therfore thou ought in vertue to be stable And to thy maker neuer to be vnkynde

Whan man offendyd by disobedyence Subduynge hym self to labour care and payne And lost the consort of goodes hye presence Hath nat christ Jhesu redemyd hym agayne Besyde all this thou hast no thynge certayne In erth but by hym. wherfore I call the blynde And of thy maners vncurtayse and vylayne If to thy sauyour thou be nat true and kynde

Thoughe G.o.d hath made the (man) thus excellent To lyue (if thou lyst) in ioy eternally A lytell thynge shall hym agayne content He nought requyreth but thy herte onely And that thou defy thy gostly ennemy And in G.o.ddes seruyce thy herte and body bynde.

Than shall he rewarde the in heuen right gloriously So mayst thou be callyd vnto thy maker kynde

Of folys that stande so well in their owne conceyt that they thinke none so wyse, stronge, fayre, nor eloquent, as they ar themself.

[Ill.u.s.tration: We haue ouercome the malyce and enuy Of suche as agaynst our Nauy did conspyre Wherfore I shall my folys call quyckly That they my Shyp may aparayle and atyre Drawe nere ye Folys whiche syttynge by the fyre Loke ay in a gla.s.se to se your countenaunce And in your owne dedis haue all your hole pleasaunce]

Vnto my shyp I call hym to be c.o.ke The mete to dresse to other Folys echone Whiche in his myrrour doth alway gase and loke Whan he may get hym vnto a place alone And though of colour and beaute he haue none Yet thynketh he hym self fayre and right plesant And wyse: thoughe that he be mad and ignorant

In his owne dedys is onely his delyte In his owne conceyte thynkynge hymself right wyse And fayre, thoughe he be yelowe as kyte Is of hir fete: yet doth he styll deuyse His vayne myrrour: that onely is his gyse And thoughe he beholde hym self of lothly shape He wyll it nat byleue, but in his gla.s.se doth gape.

Though for his foly all men myght hym repreue And that he se it before hym openly Within his gla.s.se: he wyll it nat byleue But strongly it defende and eke deny He seyth nat his erys longe and hye Whiche stande vpon his folysshe hode behynde His lewde conceyt thus makyth hym starke blynde

Whan people comon of men of hye prudence Or of hye beauty, and strength if men doth tell If one suche fole were there in the presence He swere durst boldly and that on the gospell That he onely all other dyd excell And that to gyue councell good and profytable Were none in the worldly vnto hym comparable

These folys bost them selfe of theyr wysdome And thynke them selfe to haue preemynence Aboue all other that ar in christendome.

In gyftis of grace as beautye and scyence Of strength, G.o.de maners, vertue, and eloquence But thoughe they stande in theyr owne conceytis Nought is saue foly within theyr folysshe patis

And thoughe theyr face and vysage stande awry And all to reuylde, theyr mouth standynge asyde Within theyr myrrour the same can they nat spye But in theyr foly contynually abyde And whether that they ar styll outher go or ryde Labour or be ydyll, they gase styll in theyr gla.s.se Yet wyll they nat byleue to haue erys lyke an a.s.se.

Oft whan these folys lye in theyr bed vpright With tawny loke or els theyr botyll nose They haue theyr myrrour alway in theyr syght The vayne gla.s.se (of theyr beautye) to apose And whan suche a fole into the kechyn gose To stere the pot, there whether he syt or stande The gla.s.se alway is in the other hande

Whan he a whyle his glas hath loken than If one examynyd hym of his beautye He boldly durst swere both by G.o.d and man That nought were in hym whiche myght repreuyd be But all goodnes, fayre shape, and loke of grauyte And that his gere gayly vpon his backe doth syt He hardly is wyse: if he had any wyt.

I wryten fynde that great inconuenyence As losse, contempt and occasyon of pryde Hath fallyn vnto many by this lewde complacence Whiche haue nat knowen the way themself to gyde The emperour Otho had ay borne by his syde In warre and peas (a gla.s.se) for his pleasaunce To se his colour therin; and countenaunce

And to the entent to make his colour gay With a.s.sys mylke he noyntyd oft his skyn And shauyd his berde onys euery day But for that he offendyd G.o.d herein After was he sharply punysshyd for this syn And put vnto extreme rebuke and shame To gyue other example to auoyde the same

It is forsoth a maner femynyne And nat for man to be so elegant To suche toyes wanton wymen may inclyne A yonge mayde may at her forhede haue pendant The vayne myrrour to se hir shape pleasant Man sholde nought set by to norysshe his beautye But onely manhode strength and audacyte

The wanton mayde may for hir self ordayne Hir call hir coyfe, and suche conceytis newe As broches fyletes and oyntmentis souerayne And clothynge of dyuers colour and of hewe But nowe yonge men the same fourme do ensue And to content theyr mad and folysshe mynde To wymen they compare themselfe agaynst kynde

Disorder rayneth as I before haue sayde The yonge men takyth womans countenaunce And hir aparayll, and wymen ar arayde As men: agaynst all lawe and ordynaunce Thus man and woman ensue mysgouernaunce In theyr behauour is small dyuersyte Theyr owne conceyt causeth great enormyte

The poet Ouyde shewyth in a fable Howe that one callyd Pygmalyon by name A fygure made vnto hymselfe semblable Whiche he in marbyll right craftely dyd frame And in so moche he worshypped the same Tyll at the last his mynde was past and gone And he transformed so was in to that stone

And if the Poetis fables be all sure As by theyr subtyle wordes oft we here The childe Narcissus was chaungyd of fygure Whyle he behelde into the water clere For whyle his shadowe vnto hym dyd apere Vpon the same so sore he set his mynde That he transformyd was to another kynde.

But to retorne agayne to our purpose And of this sort of Folys to conclude If G.o.d sholde them to other shape transpose That thynke them fayre though they be foule and rude Into foule fa.s.syon he many sholde include For whyle Folys theyr owne beauty magnyfy So growyth the nomber and so they multyply

THENUOY OF BARKLAY THE TRANSLATOUR.

Blynde man inclere thy wylfull ignoraunce Stande nat so great in thy owne conceyte Ne in thy lewde fa.s.syon set nat thy pleasaunce Whether thou be pore or man of great estate Another man moche more shall in the wayte Of G.o.de and yll than thou thy self canst do Therfore be nat cause to thy self of disceyte If one the teche: aply thy mynde therto

Of lepynges and dauncis and Folys that pas theyr tyme in suche vanyte.

[Ill.u.s.tration: That fole that settyth his felycyte In wanton daunces and lepes immoderate Hath in my Shyp a rowme for his degre Bysyde the stere for troublynge of his pate He G.o.d dyspleasyth, whiche doth suche foly hate Suche lese theyr tyme in vayne and oft therin Ar many hurtis: and cause of dedely syn.]

Those folys a place may chalenge in my shyp Whiche voyde of wysdome as men out of theyr mynde Them selfe delyte to daunce to lepe and skyp In compase rennynge lyke to the worlde wyde In vnkynde labour, suche folys pleasour fynde Rennynge about in this theyr furyous vyce Lyke as it were in Bacchus sacryfyce

Or as the Druydans rennyth in vayne about In theyr mad festes vpon the hylle of yde Makynge theyr sacrafyce with furour noyse and shout Whan theyr madnes settyth theyr wyt asyde Or whan the prestis of mars all nyght abyde Within theyr temple by vse abhomynable To theyr ydollys doynge theyr seruyce detestable

Lyke as these paynyms hath to theyr ydols done Theyr sacryfyce wandrynge in theyr madnes Theyr bodyes weryenge, in vayne wastynge their shone So do these fowlys them selfe to daunsynge dres Sekynge occason of great vnhappynes They take suche labour without all hope of gayne Without rewarde sure, of werynes and payne

Say Folys that vse this fury and outrage What causyth you to haue delyte therin For your great labour say what is your wage Forsoth ye can therby no profyte wyn But seke occasyon (as I haue sayde) of syn And for thy werynge thy fete thus in the dust Thou gettest no gayne but cause of carnall l.u.s.t

But whan I consyder of this folysshe game The firste begynnynge and cause orygynall I say the cause therof is worthy blame For whan the deuyll to disceyue man mortall And do contempt to the hye G.o.d eternall Vpon a stage had set a Calfe of golde.

That euery man the same myght clere beholde

So than the Fende grounde of mysgouernaunce Causyd the people this fygure to honour As for theyr G.o.d and before the same to daunce.

Whan they were dronkon, thus fell they in errour Of Idolatry, and forgate theyr creatour.

Before this ydoll daunsynge both wyfe and man Dispysynge G.o.d: Thus daunsynge fyrst began

Suche blynde folyes and inconuenyence Engendryth great hurte and incommodyte And sawyth sede wherof groweth great offence The grounde of vyce and of all enormyte In it is pryde, fowle l.u.s.t and lecherye And whyle lewde lepys ar vysd in the daunce Oft frowarde bargayns ar made by countenaunce

What els is daunsynge but euen a nurcery Or els a bayte to purchase and meyntayne In yonge hertis the vyle synne of rybawdry Them fe*trynge therin, as in a dedely chayne And to say trouth in wordes clere and playne Venereous people haue all theyr hole pleasaunce Theyr vyce to norysshe by this vnthryfty daunce

And wanton people disposyd vnto syn To satysfye theyr mad concupyscence With hasty cours vnto this daunsynge ryn To seke occasyon of vyle synne and offence And to expresse my mynde in short sentence This vyciouse game oft tymes doth attyse By his lewde synes, chast hartis vnto vyce

Than it in erth no game is more d.a.m.nable It semyth no peas, but Batayle openly They that it vse of myndes seme vnstable As mad folke rennynge with clamour showt and cry What place is voyde of this furyous foly None: so that I dout within a whyle These folys the holy churche shall defyle

Of people what sort or order may we fynde Ryche or pore hye or lowe of name But by theyr folysshnes, and wanton mynde Of eche sort some ar gyuen vnto the same The prestis and clerkes to daunce haue no shame The frere or monke in his frocke and cowle Must daunce in his dortor lepynge to play the fole

To it comys children, maydes and wyues.

And flaterynge yonge men to se to haue theyr pray The hande in hande great falshode oft contryues The olde quean also this madnes wyll a.s.say And the olde dotarde thoughe he skantly may For age and lamenes stere outher fote or hande Yet playeth he the fole with other in the bande