Chapter XI: Part 11

_Fan._ Adue, tyll sone.[809]
Stowe, byrde, stowe, stowe! 980
It is best I fede my hawke now.
There is many euyll faueryd, and thou be foule;
Eche thynge is fayre when it is yonge: all hayle, owle!
Lo, this is
My fansy, I wys:
Nowe Cryst it blysse!
It is, by Jesse,
A byrde full swete,
For me full mete:
She is furred for the hete 990
All to the fete;
Her browys bent,
Her eyen glent:
Frome Tyne to Trent,
From Stroude to Kent,
A man shall fynde
Many of her kynde,
Howe standeth the wynde
Before or behynde:
Barbyd lyke a nonne, 1000
For burnynge of the sonne;
Her fethers donne;
Well faueryd bonne.
Nowe, let me se about,
In all this rowte
Yf I can fynde out
So semely a snowte
Amonge this prese:
Euen a hole mese—
Pease, man, pease! 1010
I rede, we sease.
So farly fayre as it lokys,
And her becke so comely crokys,
Her naylys sharpe as tenter hokys!
I haue not kept her yet thre wokys,
And howe styll she dothe syt!
Teuyt, teuyt, where is my wyt?
The deuyll spede whyt!
That was before, I set behynde;
Nowe to curteys, forthwith vnkynde; 1020
Somtyme to sober, somtyme to sadde,
Somtyme to mery, somtyme to madde;
Somtyme I syt as I were solempe prowde;
Somtyme I laughe ouer lowde;
Somtyme I wepe for a gew gaw;
Somtyme I laughe at waggynge of a straw;
With a pere my loue you may wynne,
And ye may lese it for a pynne.
I haue a thynge for to say,
And I may tende therto for play; 1030
But in faythe I am so occupyed
On this halfe and on euery syde,
That I wote not where I may rest.
Fyrst to tell you what were best,
Frantyke Fansy seruyce I hyght;
My wyttys be weke, my braynys are lyght:
For it is I that other whyle
Plucke downe lede, and theke with tyle;
Nowe I wyll this, and nowe I wyll that;
Make a wyndmyll of a mat; 1040
Nowe I wolde, and I wyst what;
Where is my cappe? I haue lost my hat;
And within an houre after,
Plucke downe an house, and set vp a rafter;
Hyder and thyder, I wote not whyder;
Do and vndo, bothe togyder;
Of a spyndell I wyll make a sparre;
All that I make, forthwith I marre;
I blunder, I bluster, I blowe, and I blother;
I make on the one day, and I marre on the other; 1050
Bysy, bysy, and euer bysy,
I daunce vp and downe tyll I am dyssy;
I can fynde fantasyes where none is;
I wyll not haue it so, I wyll haue it this.

_Hic ingrediatur FOLY, quatiendo crema[810] et faciendo multum, feriendo tabulas et similia._

_Fol._ Maysters, Cryst saue euerychone!
What, Fansy, arte thou here alone?

_Fan._ What, fonnysshe Foly! I befole thy face.

_Fol._ What, frantyke Fansy in a foles case!
What is this, an owle or a glede?
By my trouthe, she hathe a grete hede. 1060

_Fan._ Tusshe, thy lyppes hange in thyne eye:[811]
It is a Frenche butterflye.

_Fol._ By my trouthe, I trowe well;
But she is lesse a grete dele
Than a butterflye of our lande.

_Fan._ What pylde curre ledest thou in thy hande?

_Fol._ A pylde curre!

_Fan._ Ye so, I tell thé, a pylde curre.

_Fol._ Yet I solde his skynne to Mackemurre,
In the stede of a budge furre. 1070

_Fan._ What, fleyest thou his skynne euery yere?

_Fol._ Yes, in faythe, I thanke God I may here.

_Fan._ What, thou wylte coughe me a dawe for forty pens?

_Fol._ Mary, syr, Cokermowthe is a good way hens.

_Fan._ What? of Cokermowth spake I no worde.

_Fol._ By my faythe, syr, the frubyssher hath my sworde.

_Fan._ A, I trowe, ye shall coughe me a fole.

_Fol._ In faythe, trouthe ye say, we wente togyder to scole.

_Fan._ Ye, but I can somwhat more of the letter.

_Fol._ I wyll not gyue an halfepeny for to chose the better. 1080

_Fan._ But, broder Foly, I wonder moche of one thynge,
That thou so hye fro me doth sprynge,
And I so lytell alway styll.

_Fol._ By God, I can tell thé, and I wyll.
Thou art so feble fantastycall,
And so braynsyke therwithall,
And thy wyt wanderynge here and there,
That thou cannyst not growe out of thy boyes gere;
And as for me, I take but one folysshe way,
And therfore I growe more on one day 1090
Than thou can in yerys seuen.

_Fan._ In faythe, trouth thou sayst nowe, by God of heuen!
For so with fantasyes my wyt dothe flete,
That wysdome and I shall seldome mete.
Nowe, of good felowshyp, let me by thy dogge.[812]

_Fol._ Cockys harte, thou lyest, I am no hogge.[813]

_Fan._ Here is no man that callyd thé hogge nor swyne.

_Fol._ In faythe, man, my brayne is as good as thyne.

_Fan._ The deuyls torde for thy brayne!

_Fol._ By my syers soule, I fele no rayne. 1100

_Fan._ By the masse, I holde thé madde.

_Fol._ Mary, I knewe thé when thou waste a ladde.

_Fan._ Cockys bonys, herde ye euer syke another?

_Fol._ Ye, a fole the tone, and a fole the tother.

_Fan._ Nay, but wotest thou what I do say?

_Fol._ Why, sayst thou that I was here yesterday?

_Fan._ Cockys armys, this is a warke, I trowe.

_Fol._ What, callyst thou me a donnyshe crowe?

_Fan._ Nowe, in good faythe, thou art a fonde gest.

_Fol._ Ye, bere me this strawe to a dawys nest. 1110

_Fan._ What, wenyst thou that I were so folysshe and so fonde?

_Fol._ In faythe, ellys is there none in all Englonde.

_Fan._ Yet for my fansy sake, I say,
Let me haue thy dogge, what soeuer I pay.

_Fol._ Thou shalte haue my purse, and I wyll haue thyne.

_Fan._ By my trouth, there is myne.

_Fol._ Nowe, by my trouth, man, take, there is myne;[814]
And I beshrowe hym that hath the worse.

_Fan._ Torde, I say, what haue I do?
Here is nothynge but the bockyll of a sho, 1120
And in my purse was twenty marke.

_Fol._ Ha, ha, ha! herke, syrs, harke!
For all that my name hyght Foly,
By the masse, yet art thou more fole than I.

_Fan._ Yet gyue me thy dogge, and I am content;
And thou shalte haue my hauke to a botchment.

_Fol._ That euer thou thryue, God it forfende!
For Goddes cope thou wyll spende.
Nowe take thou my dogge, and gyue me thy fowle.[815]

_Fan._ Hay, chysshe, come hyder! 1130

_Fol._ Nay, torde, take hym be tyme.

_Fan._ What callest thou thy dogge?

_Fol._ Tusshe, his name is Gryme.

_Fan._ Come, Gryme, come, Gryme! it is my praty dogges.

_Fol._ In faythe, there is not a better dogge for hogges,
Not from Anwyke vnto Aungey.

_Fan._ Ye, but trowest thou that he be not maungey?

_Fol._ No, by my trouthe, it is but the scurfe and the scabbe.

_Fan._ What, he hathe ben hurte with a stabbe?

_Fol._ Nay, in faythe, it was but a strype 1140
That the horson had for etynge of a trype.

_Fan._ Where the deuyll gate he all these hurtes?

_Fol._ By God, for snatchynge of puddynges and wortes.

_Fan._ What, then he is some good poore mannes curre?

_Fol._ Ye, but he wyll in at euery mannes dore.

_Fan._ Nowe thou hast done me a pleasure grete.

_Fol._ In faythe, I wolde thou had a marmosete.

_Fan._ Cockes harte, I loue suche iapes.

_Fol._ Ye, for all thy mynde is on owles and apes.
But I haue thy pultre, and thou hast my catell. 1150

_Fan._ Ye, but thryfte and we haue made a batell.

_Fol._ Remembrest thou not the iapes and the toyes—

_Fan._ What, that we vsed whan we were boyes?

_Fol._ Ye, by the rode, euen the same.

_Fan._ Yes, yes, I am yet as full of game
As euer I was, and as full of tryfyls,
_Nil, nihilum, nihil, anglice_ nyfyls.

_Fol._ What canest thou all this Latyn[816] yet,
And hath so mased a wandrynge wyt?

_Fan._ Tushe, man, I kepe some Latyn in store. 1160

_Fol._ By Cockes harte, I wene thou hast no more.

_Fan._ No? yes, in faythe, I can versyfy.

_Fol._ Then, I pray thé hartely,
Make a verse of my butterfly;
It forseth not of the reason, so it kepe ryme.

_Fan._ But wylte thou make another on Gryme?

_Fol._ Nay, in fayth, fyrst let me here thyne.

_Fan._ Mary, as for that, thou shalte sone here myne:
_Est snavi[817] snago_ with a shrewde face _vilis imago_.

_Fol._ Grimbaldus gredy, snatche a puddyng tyl the rost be redy. 1170

_Fan._ By the harte of God, well done!

_Fol._ Ye, so redely and so sone!

_Here cometh in CRAFTY CONUEYAUNCE._

_Cr. Con._ What, Fansy! Let me se who is the tother.

_Fan._ By God, syr, Foly, myne owne sworne brother.

_Cr. Con._ Cockys bonys, it is a farle freke:
Can he play well at the hoddypeke?

_Fan._ Tell by thy trouth what sport can thou make.

_Fol._ A, holde thy peas; I haue the tothe ake.

_Cr. Con._ The tothe ake! lo, a torde ye haue.

_Fol._ Ye, thou haste the four quarters of a knaue. 1180

_Cr. Con._ Wotyst thou, I say, to whom thou spekys?

_Fan._ Nay, by Cockys harte, he ne reckys,
For he wyll speke to Magnyfycence thus.

_Cr. Con._ Cockys armys, a mete man for vs.

_Fol._ What, wolde ye haue mo folys, and are so many?

_Fan._ Nay, offer hym a counter in stede of a peny.

_Cr. Con._ Why, thynkys thou he can no better skyll?

_Fol._ In fayth, I can make you bothe folys, and I wyll.

_Cr. Con._ What haste thou on thy fyst? a kesteryll?[818]

_Fol._ Nay, I wys, fole, it is a doteryll. 1190

_Cr. Con._ In a cote thou can play well the dyser.

_Fol._ Ye, but thou can play the fole without a vyser.

_Fan._ Howe rode he by you? howe put he to you?[819]

_Cr. Con._ Mary, as thou sayst, he gaue me a blurre.
But where gatte thou that mangey curre?

_Fan._ Mary, it was his, and nowe it is myne.

_Cr. Con._ And was it his, and nowe it is thyne?
Thou must haue thy fansy and thy wyll,
But yet thou shalt holde me a fole styll.

_Fol._ Why, wenyst thou that I cannot make thé play the fon? 1200

_Fan._ Yes, by my faythe, good Syr Johnn.

_Cr. Con._ For you bothe it were inough.

_Fol._ Why, wenyst thou that I were as moche a fole as thou?

_Fan._ Nay, nay, thou shalte fynde hym another maner of man.

_Fol._ In faythe, I can do mastryes, so I can.

_Cr. Con._ What canest thou do but play cocke wat?

_Fan._ Yes,[820] yes, he wyll make thé ete a gnat.

_Fol._ Yes, yes, by my trouth, I holde thé a grote,
That I shall laughe thé out of thy cote.

_Cr. Con._ Than wyll I say that thou haste no pere. 1210

_Fan._ Nowe, by the rode, and he wyll go nere.

_Fol._ Hem, Fansy! _regardes, voyes_.

_Here FOLY maketh semblaunt to take a lowse from CRAFTY CONUEYAUNCE showlder._

_Fan._ What hast thou founde there?

_Fol._ By God, a lowse.

_Cr. Con._ By Cockes harte, I trowe thou lyste.

_Fol._ By the masse, a Spaynysshe moght with a gray lyste.

_Fan._ Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!

_Cr. Con._ Cockes armes, it is not so, I trowe.

_Here CRAFTY CONU[EY]AUNCE putteth of his gowne._

_Fol._ Put on thy gowne agayne, for nowe thou hast lost.[821]

_Fan._ Lo, Johnn a Bonam, where is thy brayne? 1220
Nowe put on, fole, thy cote agayne.

_Fol._ Gyue me my grote, for thou hast lost.

_Here FOLY maketh semblaunt to take money of CRAFTY CONUEYAUNCE, saynge to hym_,

Shyt thy purse, dawe, and do no cost.

_Fan._ Nowe hast thou not a prowde mocke and a starke?

_Cr. Con._ With, yes, by the rode of Wodstocke Parke.

_Fan._ Nay, I tell thé, he maketh no dowtes
To tourne a fole out of his clowtes.

_Cr. Con._ And for a fole a man wolde hym take.

_Fol._ Nay, it is I that foles can make;
For, be he cayser or be he kynge, 1230
To felowshyp with Foly I can hym brynge.

_Fan._ Nay, wylte thou here nowe of his scoles,
And what maner of people he maketh foles?

_Cr. Con._ Ye, let vs here a worde or twayne.

_Fol._ Syr, of my maner I shall tell you the playne.
Fyrst I lay before them my bybyll,
And teche them howe they sholde syt ydyll,
To pyke theyr fyngers all the day longe;
So in theyr eyre I synge them a songe,
And make them so longe to muse, 1240
That some of them renneth strayght to the stuse;
To thefte and bryboury I make some fall,
And pyke a locke and clyme a wall;
And where I spy a nysot gay,
That wyll syt ydyll all the day,
And can not set herselfe to warke,
I kyndell in her suche a lyther sparke,
That rubbed she must be on the gall
Bytwene the tappet[822] and the wall.

_Cr. Con._ What, horson, arte thou suche a one? 1250

_Fan._ Nay, beyonde all other set hym alone.

_Cr. Con._ Hast thou ony more? let se, procede.

_Fol._ Ye, by God, syr, for a nede,
I haue another maner of sorte,
That I laugh at for my dysporte;
And those be they that come vp of nought,
As some be not ferre, and yf it were well sought:
Suche dawys, what soeuer they be,
That be set in auctorite,
Anone he waxyth so hy and prowde, 1260
He frownyth fyersly, brymly browde,
The knaue wolde make it koy, and he cowde;
All that he dothe, muste be alowde;
And, This is not well done, syr, take hede;
And maketh hym besy where is no nede:
He dawnsys so longe, hey, troly loly,
That euery man lawghyth at his foly.

_Cr. Con._ By the good Lorde, truthe he sayth.

_Fan._ Thynkyst thou not so, by thy fayth?

_Cr. Con._ Thynke I not so, quod he! ellys haue I shame, 1270
For I knowe dyuerse that vseth the same.

_Fol._ But nowe, forsothe, man, it maketh no mater;
For they that wyll so bysely smater,
So helpe me God, man, euer at the length
I make hym[823] lese moche of theyr strength;
For with foly so do I them lede,
That wyt he wantyth when he hath moste nede.

_Fan._ Forsothe, tell on: hast thou any mo?[824]

_Fol._ Yes, I shall tell you, or I go,
Of dyuerse mo that hauntyth my scolys. 1280

_Cr. Con._ All men beware of suche folys!

_Fol._ There be two lyther, rude and ranke,
Symkyn Tytyuell and Pers Pykthanke;
Theys lythers I lerne them for to lere
What he sayth and she sayth to lay good ere,
And tell to his sufferayne euery whyt,
And then he is moche made of for his wyt;[825]
And, be the mater yll more or lesse,
He wyll make it mykyll worse than it is:
But all that he dothe, and yf he reken well, 1290
It is but foly euery dell.

_Fan._ Are not his wordys cursydly cowchyd?

_Cr. Con._ By God, there be some that be shroudly towchyd:
But, I say, let se and yf thou haue any more.

_Fol._ I haue an hole armory of suche haburdashe in store;
For there be other that foly dothe vse,
That folowe fonde fantasyes and vertu refuse.

_Fan._ Nay, that is my parte that thou spekest of nowe.

_Fol._ So is all the remenaunt, I make God auowe;
For thou fourmest suche fantasyes in theyr mynde, 1300
That euery man almost groweth out of kynde.

_Cr. Con._ By the masse, I am glad that I came hyder,
To here you two rutters dyspute togyder.

_Fan._ Nay, but Fansy must be eyther fyrst or last.

_Fol._ But whan Foly cometh, all is past.

_Fan._ I wote not whether it cometh of thé or of me,
But all is foly that I can se.

_Cr. Con._ Mary, syr, ye may swere it on a boke.

_Fol._ Ye, tourne ouer the lefe, rede there and loke,
Howe frantyke Fansy fyrst of all 1310
Maketh man and woman in foly to fall.

_Cr. Con._ A, syr, a, a! howe by that!

_Fan._ A peryllous thynge, to cast a cat
Vpon a naked man, and yf she scrat.

_Fol._ So how, I say, the hare is squat!
For, frantyke Fansy, thou makest men madde;
And I, Foly, bryngeth them to _qui fuit_ gadde,
With _qui fuit_ brayne seke I haue them brought
From _qui fuit aliquid_ to shyre shakynge nought.

_Cr. Con._ Well argued and surely on bothe sydes: 1320
But for thé, Fansy, Magnyfycence abydes.

_Fan._ Why, shall I not haue Foly with me also?

_Cr. Con._ Yes, perde, man, whether that ye ryde or go:
Yet for his name we must fynde a slyght.[826]

_Fan._ By the masse, he shall hyght Consayte.

_Cr. Con._ Not a better name vnder the sonne:
With Magnyfycence thou shalte wonne.

_Fol._ God haue mercy, good godfather.

_Cr. Con._ Yet I wolde that ye had gone rather;
For, as sone as you come in Magnyfycence syght, 1330
All mesure and good rule is gone quyte.

_Fan._ And shall we haue lyberte to do what we wyll?

_Cr. Con._ Ryot at lyberte russheth it out styll.

_Fol._ Ye, but tell me one thynge.

_Cr. Con._ What is that?

_Fol._ Who is mayster of the masshe fat?

_Fan._ Ye, for he hathe a full dry soule.

_Cr. Con._ Cockes armes, thou shalte kepe the brewhouse boule.

_Fol._ But may I drynke therof whylest that I stare?

_Cr. Con._ When mesure is gone, what nedest thou spare? 1340
Whan mesure is gone, we may slee care.

_Fol._ Nowe then goo we hens, away the mare![827]

_CRAFTY CONUEYAUNCE alone in the place._

_Cr. Con._ It is wonder to se the worlde aboute,
To se what foly is vsed in euery place;
Foly hath a rome, I say, in euery route,
To put, where he lyst, Foly hath fre chace;
Foly and Fansy all where, euery man dothe face and brace;
Foly fotyth it properly, Fansy ledyth the dawnce;
And next come I after, Crafty Conueyaunce.
Who so to me gyueth good aduertence, 1350
Shall se many thyngys donne craftely:
By me conueyed is wanton insolence,
Pryuy poyntmentys conueyed so properly,
For many tymes moche kyndnesse is denyed
For drede that we dare not ofte lest we be spyed;
By me is conueyed mykyll praty ware,
Somtyme, I say, behynde the dore for nede;
I haue an hoby can make larkys to dare;
I knyt togyther many a broken threde.
It is great almesse the hungre[828] to fede, 1360
To clothe the nakyd where is lackynge a smocke,
Trymme at her tayle, or a man can turne a socke:
What howe, be ye mery! was it not well conueyed?
As oft as ye lyst, so honeste be sauyd;
Alas, dere harte, loke that we be not perseyuyd!
Without crafte nothynge is well behauyd;
Though I shewe you curtesy, say not that I craue,[829]
Yet conuey it craftely, and hardely spare not for me,
So that there knowe no man but I and she.
Thefte also and pety brybery 1370
Without me be full oft aspyed;
My inwyt delynge there can no man dyscry,
Conuey it be crafte, lyft and lay asyde:
Full moche flatery and falsehode I hyde,
And by crafty conueyaunce I wyll, and I can,
Saue a stronge thefe and hange a trew man.
But some man wolde conuey, and can not skyll,
As malypert tauernars that checke with theyr betters,
Theyr conueyaunce weltyth the worke all by wyll;
And some wyll take vpon them to conterfet letters, 1380
And therwithall conuey hymselfe into a payre of fetters;
And some wyll conuey by the pretence of sadnesse,
Tyll all theyr conueyaunce is turnyd into madnesse.
Crafty conueyaunce is no chyldys game:
By crafty conueyaunce many one is brought vp of nought;
Crafty Conueyaunce can cloke hymselfe frome shame,
For by crafty conueyaunce wonderful thynges are wrought:
By conuayaunce crafty I haue brought
Vnto Magnyfyce[nce] a full vngracyous sorte,
For all hokes vnhappy to me haue resorte. 1390

_Here cometh in MAGNYFYCENCE with LYBERTE and FELYCYTE._

_Magn._ Trust me, Lyberte, it greueth me ryght sore
To se you thus ruled and stande in suche awe.

_Lyb._ Syr, as by my wyll, it shall be so no more.

_Fel._ Yet lyberte without rule is not worth a strawe.

_Magn._ Tushe, holde your peas, ye speke lyke a dawe;
Ye shall be occupyed, Welthe, at my wyll.

_Cr. Con._ All that ye say, syr, is reason and skyll.

_Magn._ Mayster Suruayour, where haue ye ben so longe?
Remembre ye not how my lyberte by mesure ruled was?

_Cr. Con._ In good faythe, syr, me semeth he had the more wronge. 1400

_Lyb._ Mary, syr, so dyd he excede and passe,
They droue me to lernynge lyke a dull asse.

_Fel._ It is good yet that lyberte be ruled by reason.

_Magn._ Tushe, holde your peas, ye speke out of season:
Yourselfe shall be ruled by lyberte and largesse.

_Fel._ I am content, so it in measure be.

_Lyb._ Must mesure, in the mares name, you furnysshe and dresse?

_Magn._ Nay, nay, not so, my frende Felycyte.

_Cr. Con._ Not, and your grace wolde be ruled by me.

_Lyb._ Nay, he shall be ruled euen as I lyst. 1410

_Fel._ Yet it is good to beware of Had I wyst.

_Magn._ Syr, by lyberte and largesse I wyll that ye shall
Be gouerned and gyded: wote ye what I say?
Mayster Suruayour, Largesse to me call.

_Cr. Con._ It shall be done.

_Magn._ Ye, but byd hym come away
At ones, and let hym not tary all day.

_Here goth out CRAFTY CONUAYAUNCE._

_Fel._ Yet it is good wysdome to worke wysely by welth.

_Lyb._ Holde thy tonge, and thou loue thy helth.

_Magn._ What, wyll ye waste wynde, and prate thus in vayne? 1420
Ye haue eten sauce, I trowe, at the Taylers Hall.

_Lyb._ Be not to bolde, my frende; I counsell you, bere a brayne.

_Magn._ And what so we say, holde you content withall.

_Fel._ Syr, yet without sapyence your substaunce may be smal;
For, where is no mesure, howe may worshyp endure?

_Here cometh in FANSY._

_Fan._ Syr, I am here at your pleasure;
Your grace sent for me, I wene; what is your wyll?

_Magn._ Come hyther, Largesse, take here Felycyte.

_Fan._ Why, wene you that I can kepe hym longe styll?

_Magn._ To rule as ye lyst, lo, here is Lyberte! 1430

_Lyb._ I am here redy.

_Fan._ What, shall we haue welth at our gydynge to rule as we lyst?
Then fare well thryfte, by hym that crosse kyst!

_Fel._ I truste your grace wyll be agreabyll
That I shall suffer none impechment
By theyr demenaunce nor losse repryuable.

_Magn._ Syr, ye shall folowe myne appetyte and intent.

_Fel._ So it be by mesure I am ryght well content.

_Fan._ What, all by mesure, good syr, and none excesse?

_Lyb._ Why, welth hath made many a man braynlesse. 1440

_Fel._ That was by the menys of to moche lyberte.

_Magn._ What can ye agree thus and appose?

_Fel._ Syr, as I say, there was no faute in me.

_Lyb._ Ye, of Jackeathrommys bybyll can ye make a glose?

_Fan._ Sore sayde, I tell you, and well to the purpose:
What sholde a man do with you, loke you vnder kay.[830]

_Fel._ I say, it is foly to gyue all welth away.

_Lyb._ Whether sholde welth be rulyd by lyberte,
Or lyberte by welth? let se, tell me that.

_Fel._ Syr, as me semeth, ye sholde be rulyd by me. 1450

_Magn._ What nede you with hym thus prate and chat?

_Fan._ Shewe vs your mynde then, howe to do and what.

_Magn._ I say, that I wyll ye haue hym in gydynge.

_Lyb._ Mayster Felycyte, let be your chydynge,
And so as ye se it wyll be no better,
Take it in worthe suche as ye fynde.

_Fan._ What the deuyll, man, your name shalbe the greter,
For welth without largesse is all out of kynde.

_Lyb._ And welth is nought worthe, yf lyberte be behynde.

_Magn._ Nowe holde ye content, for there is none other shyfte. 1460

_Fel._ Than waste must be welcome, and fare well thryfte!

_Magn._ Take of his substaunce a sure inuentory,
And get thou[831] home togyther; for Lyberte shall byde,
And wayte vpon me.

_Lyb._ And yet for a memory,
Make indentures howe ye and I shal gyde.

_Fan._ I can do nothynge but he stonde besyde.

_Lyb._ Syr, we can do nothynge the one without the other.

_Magn._ Well, get you hens than, and sende me some other.

_Fan._ Whom? lusty Pleasure, or mery Consayte? 1470

_Magn._ Nay, fyrst lusty Pleasure is my desyre to haue,
And let the other another[832] awayte,
Howe be it that fonde felowe is a mery knaue;
But loke that ye occupye the auctoryte that I you gaue.

[_Here goeth out FELYCYTE, LYBERTE, and FANSY._

_MAGNYFYCENCE alone in the place._

For nowe,[833] syrs, I am lyke as a prynce sholde be;
I haue welth at wyll, largesse and lyberte:
Fortune to her lawys can not abandune me,
But I shall of Fortune rule the reyne;
I fere nothynge Fortunes perplexyte;
All honour to me must nedys stowpe and lene; 1480
I synge of two partys without a mene;
I haue wynde and wether ouer all to sayle,
No stormy rage agaynst me can peruayle.
Alexander, of Macedony kynge,
That all the oryent had in subieccyon,
Though al his conquestys were brought to rekenynge,
Myght seme ryght wel vnder my proteccyon
To rayne, for all his marcyall affeccyon;
For I am prynce perlesse prouyd of porte,
Bathyd with blysse, embracyd with comforte. 1490
Syrus, that soleme syar of Babylon,
That Israell releysyd of theyr captyuyte,
For al his pompe, for all his ryall trone,
He may not be comparyd vnto me.
I am the dyamounde dowtlesse of dygnyte:
Surely it is I that all may saue and spyll;
No man so hardy to worke agaynst my wyll.
Porcenya, the prowde prouoste of Turky lande,
That ratyd the Romaynes and made them yll rest,
Nor Cesar July, that no man myght withstande, 1500
Were neuer halfe so rychely as I am drest:
No, that I assure you; loke who was the best.
I reyne in my robys, I rule as me lyst,
I dryue downe th[e]se dastardys with a dynt of my fyste.
Of Cato the counte acountyd the cane,
Daryus, the doughty cheftayn of Perse,
I set not by the prowdest of them a prane,
Ne by non other that any man can rehersse.
I folowe in felycyte without reue[r]sse,
I drede no daunger, I dawnce all in delyte; 1510
My name is Magnyfycence, man most of myght.
Hercules the herdy, with his stobburne clobbyd mase,
That made Cerberus to cache, the cur dogge of hell,
And Thesius, that[834] prowde was Pluto to face,
It wolde not become them with me for to mell:
For of all barones bolde I bere the bell,
Of all doughty I am doughtyest duke, as I deme;
To me all prynces to lowte man be sene.[835]
Cherlemayne, that mantenyd the nobles of Fraunce,
Arthur of Albyan, for all his brymme berde, 1520
Nor Basyan the bolde, for all his brybaunce,
Nor Alerycus, that rulyd the Gothyaunce by swerd,
Nor no man on molde can make me aferd.
What man is so maysyd with me that dare mete,
I shall flappe hym as a fole to fall at my fete.
Galba, whom his galantys garde for agaspe,
Nor Nero, that nother set by God nor man,
Nor Vaspasyan, that bare in his nose a waspe,
Nor Hanyball agayne Rome gates that ranne,
Nor yet Cypyo,[836] that noble Cartage wanne, 1530
Nor none so hardy of them with me that durste crake,
But I shall frounce them on the foretop, and gar them to quake.

_Here cometh in COURTLY ABUSYON, doynge reuerence and courtesy._

_Court. Ab._ At your commaundement, syr, wyth all dew reuerence.

_Magn._ Welcom, Pleasure, to our magnyfycence.

_Court. Ab._ Plesyth it your grace to shewe what I do shall?

_Magn._ Let vs here of your pleasure to passe the tyme withall.

_Court. Ab._ Syr, then with the fauour of your benynge sufferaunce
To shewe you my mynde myselfe I wyll auaunce,
If it lyke your grace to take it in degre.

_Magn._ Yes, syr, so good man in you I se, 1540
And in your delynge so good assuraunce,
That we delyte gretly in your dalyaunce.

_Court. Ab._ A, syr, your grace me dothe extole and rayse,
And ferre beyond my merytys ye me commende and prayse;
Howe be it, I wolde be ryght gladde, I you assure,
Any thynge to do that myght be to your pleasure.

_Magn._ As I be saued, with pleasure I am supprysyd
Of your langage, it is so well deuysed;
Pullyshyd and fresshe is your ornacy.

_Court. Ab._ A, I wolde to God that I were halfe so crafty, 1550
Or in electe vtteraunce halfe so eloquent,
As that I myght your noble grace content!

_Magn._ Truste me, with you I am hyghly pleasyd,
For in my fauour I haue you feffyd and seasyd.
He is not lyuynge your maners can amend;
Mary, your speche is as pleasant as though it were pend;
To here your comon, it is my hygh comforte;
Poynt deuyse all pleasure is your porte.

_Court. Ab._ Syr, I am the better of your noble reporte;
But, of your pacyence vnder the supporte, 1560
If it wolde lyke you to here my pore mynde—

_Magn._ Speke, I beseche thé, leue nothynge behynde.

_Court. Ab._ So as ye be a prynce of great myght,
It is semynge your pleasure ye delyte,
And to aqueynte you with carnall delectacyon,
And to fall in aquayntaunce with euery newe facyon;
And quyckely your appetytes to sharpe and adresse,
To fasten your fansy vpon a fayre maystresse,
That quyckly is enuyued with rudyes of the rose,
Inpurtured with fetures after your purpose, 1570
The streynes of her vaynes as asure inde blewe,
Enbudded with beautye and colour fresshe of hewe,
As lyly whyte to loke vpon her leyre,[837]
Her eyen relucent as carbuncle so clere,
Her mouthe enbawmed, dylectable and mery,
Her lusty lyppes ruddy as the chery:
Howe lyke you? ye lacke, syr, suche a lusty lasse.

_Magn._ A, that were a baby to brace and to basse!
I wolde I had, by hym that hell dyd harowe,
With me in kepynge suche a Phylyp sparowe! 1580
I wolde hauke whylest my hede dyd warke,
So I myght hobby for suche a lusty larke.
These wordes in myne eyre they be so lustely spoken,
That on suche a female my flesshe wolde be wroken;
They towche me so thorowly, and tykyll my consayte,
That weryed I wolde be on suche a bayte:
A, Cockes armes, where myght suche one be founde?

_Court. Ab._ Wyll ye spende ony money?

_Magn._ Ye, a thousande pounde.

_Court. Ab._ Nay, nay, for lesse I waraunt you to be sped, 1590
And brought home, and layde in your bed.

_Magn._ Wolde money, trowest thou, make suche one to the call?

_Court. Ab._ Money maketh marchauntes, I tell you, over all.

_Magn._ Why, wyl a maystres be wonne for money and for golde?

_Court. Ab._ Why, was not for money Troy bothe bought and solde?
Full many a stronge cyte and towne hath ben wonne
By the meanes of money without ony gonne.
A maystres, I tell you, is but a small thynge;
A goodly rybon, or a golde rynge,
May wynne with a sawte the fortresse of the holde; 1600
But one thynge I warne you, prece forth and be bolde.

_Magn._ Ye, but some be full koy and passynge harde harted.

_Court. Ab._ But, blessyd be our Lorde, they wyll be sone conuerted.

_Magn._ Why, wyll they then be intreted, the most and the lest?

_Court. Ab._ Ye, for _omnis mulier meretrix, si celari potest_.

_Magn._ A, I haue spyed ye can moche broken sorowe.

_Court. Ab._ I coude holde you with suche talke hens tyll to morowe;
But yf it lyke your grace, more at large
Me to permyt my mynde to dyscharge,
I wolde yet shewe you further of my consayte. 1610

_Magn._ Let se what ye say, shewe it strayte.

_Court. Ab._ Wysely let these wordes in your mynde be wayed:
By waywarde wylfulnes let eche thynge be conuayed;
What so euer ye do, folowe your owne wyll;
Be it reason or none, it shall not gretely skyll;
Be it ryght or wronge, by the aduyse of me,
Take your pleasure and vse free lyberte;
And yf you se ony thynge agaynst your mynde,
Then some occacyon of[838] quarell ye must fynde,
And frowne it and face it, as thoughe ye wolde fyght, 1620
Frete yourselfe for anger and for dyspyte;
Here no man, what so euer they say,
But do as ye lyst, and take your owne way.

_Magn._ Thy wordes and my mynde odly well accorde.

_Court. Ab._ What sholde ye do elles? are not you a lorde?
Let your lust and lykynge stande for a lawe;
Be wrastynge and wrythynge, and away drawe.
And ye se a man that with hym ye be not pleased,
And that your mynde can not well be eased,
As yf a man fortune to touche you on the quyke, 1630
Then feyne yourselfe dyseased and make yourselfe seke:
To styre vp your stomake you must you forge,
Call for a candell[839] and cast vp your gorge;
With, Cockes armes, rest shall I none haue
Tyll I be reuenged on that horson knaue!
A, howe my stomake wambleth! I am all in a swete!
Is there no horson that knaue that wyll bete?

_Magn._ By Cockes woundes, a wonder felowe thou arte;
For ofte tymes suche a wamblynge goth ouer my harte;
Yet I am not harte seke, but that me lyst 1640
For myrth I haue hym coryed, beten, and blyst,
Hym that I loued not and made hym to loute,
I am forthwith as hole as a troute;
For suche abusyon I vse nowe and than.

_Court. Ab._ It is none abusyon, syr, in a noble man,
It is a pryncely pleasure and a lordly mynde;
Suche lustes at large may not be lefte behynde.

_Here cometh in CLOKED COLUSYON with MESURE._

_Cl. Col._ Stande styll here, and ye shall se
That for your sake I wyll fall on my kne.

_Court. Ab._ Syr, Sober Sadnesse cometh, wherfore it be? 1650

_Magn._ Stande vp, syr, ye are welcom to me.

_Cl. Col._ Please it your grace, at the contemplacyon
Of my pore instance and supplycacyon,
Tenderly to consyder in your aduertence,
Of our blessyd Lorde, syr, at the reuerence,
Remembre the good seruyce that Mesure hath you done,
And that ye wyll not cast hym away so sone.

_Magn._ My frende, as touchynge to this your mocyon,
I may say to you I haue but small deuocyon;
Howe be it, at your instaunce I wyll the rather 1660
Do as moche as for myne owne father.

_Cl. Col._ Nay, syr, that affeccyon ought to be reserued,
For of your grace I haue it nought deserued;
But yf it lyke you that I myght rowne in your eyre,
To shewe you my mynde I wolde haue the lesse fere.

_Magn._ Stande a lytell abacke, syr, and let hym come hyder.

_Court. Ab._ With a good wyll, syr, God spede you bothe togyder.

_Cl. Col._ Syr, so it is, this man is here by,
That for hym to laboure he hath prayde me hartely;
Notwithstandynge to you be it sayde, 1670
To trust in me he is but dyssayued;
For, so helpe me God, for you he is not mete:
I speke the softlyer, because he sholde not wete.

_Magn._ Come hyder, Pleasure, you shall here myne entent:
Mesure, ye knowe wel, with hym I can not be content,
And surely, as I am nowe aduysed,
I wyll haue hym rehayted and dyspysed.
Howe say ye, syrs? herein what is best?

_Court. Ab._ By myne aduyse with you in fayth he shall not rest.

_Cl. Col._ Yet, syr, reserued your better aduysement, 1680
It were better he spake with you or he wente,
That he knowe not but that I haue supplyed
All that I can his matter for to spede.

_Magn._ Nowe, by your trouthe, gaue he you not a brybe?

_Cl. Col._ Yes, with his hande I made hym to subscrybe
A byll of recorde for an annuall rent.

_Court. Ab._ But for all that he is lyke to haue a glent.

_Cl. Col._ Ye, by my trouthe, I shall waraunt you for me,
And he go to the deu[y]ll, so that I may haue my fee,
What care I? 1690

_Magn._ By the masse, well sayd.

_Court. Ab._ What force ye, so that ye[840] be payde?

_Cl. Col._ But yet, lo, I wolde, or that he wente,
Lest that he thought that his money were euyll spente,
That ye[841] wolde loke on hym, thoughe it were not longe.

_Magn._ Well cannest thou helpe a preest to synge a songe.

_Cl. Col._ So it is all the maner nowe a dayes,
For to vse suche haftynge and crafty wayes.

_Court. Ab._ He telleth you trouth, syr, as I you ensure.

_Magn._ Well, for thy sake the better I may endure 1700
That he come hyder, and to gyue hym a loke
That he shall lyke the worse all this woke.

_Cl. Col._ I care not howe sone he be refused,
So that I may craftely be excused.

_Court. Ab._ Where is he?

_Cl. Col._ Mary, I made hym abyde,
Whylest I came to you, a lytell here besyde.

_Magn._ Well, call hym, and let vs here hym reason,
And we wyll be comonynge in the mene season.

_Court. Ab._ This is a wyse man, syr, where so euer ye hym had. 1710

_Magn._ An honest person, I tell you, and a sad.

_Court. Ab._ He can full craftely this matter brynge aboute.

_Magn._ Whylest I haue hym, I nede nothynge doute.

_Hic introducat COLUSION, MESURE, MAGNYFYCENCE aspectant[e] vultu elatissimo._

_Cl. Col._ By the masse, I haue done that I can,
And more than euer I dyd for ony man:
I trowe, ye herde yourselfe what I sayd.

_Mes._ Nay, indede; but I sawe howe ye prayed,
And made instance for me be lykelyhod.

_Cl. Col._ Nay, I tell you, I am not wonte to fode
Them that dare put theyr truste in me; 1720
And therof ye shall a larger profe se.

_Mes._ Syr, God rewarde you as ye haue deserued:
But thynke you with Magnyfycence I shal be reserued?

_Cl. Col._ By my trouth, I can not tell you that;
But, and I were as ye, I wolde not set a gnat
By Magnyfycence, nor yet none of his,
For, go when ye shall, of you shall he mysse.

_Mes._ Syr, as ye say.

_Cl. Col._ Nay, come on with me:
Yet ones agayne I shall fall on my kne 1730
For your sake, what so euer befall;
I set not a flye, and all go to all.

_Mes._ The Holy Goost be with your grace.

_Cl. Col._ Syr, I beseche you, let pety haue some place
In your brest towardes this gentylman.

_Magn._ I was your good lorde tyll that ye beganne
So masterfully vpon you for to take
With my seruauntys, and suche maystryes gan make,
That holly my mynde with you is myscontente;
Wherfore I wyll that ye be resydent 1740
With me no longer.

_Cl. Col._ Say somwhat nowe, let se, for your selfe.[842]

_Mes._ Syr, yf I myght permytted be,
I wolde to you say a worde or twayne.

_Magn._ What, woldest thou, lurden, with me brawle agayne?
Haue hym hens, I say, out of my syght;
That day I se hym, I shall be worse all nyght.

[_Here MESURE goth out of the place._[843]

_Court. Ab._ Hens, thou haynyarde, out of the dores fast!

_Magn._ Alas, my stomake fareth as it wolde cast!

_Cl. Col._ Abyde, syr, abyde, let me holde your hede. 1750

_Magn._ A bolle or a basyn, I say, for Goddes brede!
A, my hede! But is the horson gone?
God gyue hym a myscheffe! Nay, nowe let me alone.

_Cl. Col._ A good dryfte, syr, a praty fete:
By the good Lorde, yet your temples bete.

_Magn._ Nay, so God me helpe, it was no grete vexacyon,
For I am panged ofte tymes of this same facyon.

_Cl. Col._ Cockes armes, howe Pleasure plucked hym forth!

_Magn._ Ye, walke he must, it was no better worth.

_Cl. Col._ Syr, nowe me thynke your harte is well eased. 1760

_Magn._ Nowe Measure is gone, I am the better pleased.

_Cl. Col._ So to be ruled by measure, it is a payne.

_Magn._ Mary, I wene he wolde not be glad to come agayne.

_Cl. Col._ So I wote not what he sholde do here:
Where mennes belyes is mesured, there is no chere;
For I here but fewe men that gyue ony prayse
Vnto measure, I say, nowe a days.

_Magn._ Measure, tut! what, the deuyll of hell!
Scantly one with measure that wyll dwell.

_Cl. Col._ Not amonge noble men, as the worlde gothe: 1770
It is no wonder therfore thoughe ye be wrothe
With Mesure. Where as all noblenes is, there I haue past:
They catche that catche may, kepe and holde fast,
Out of all measure themselfe to enryche;
No force what thoughe his neyghbour dye in a dyche.
With pollynge and pluckynge out of all measure,
Thus must ye stuffe and store your treasure.

_Magn._ Yet somtyme, parde, I must vse largesse.

_Cl. Col._ Ye, mary, somtyme in a messe of vergesse,
As in a tryfyll or in a thynge of nought, 1780
As gyuynge a thynge that ye neuer bought:
It is the gyse nowe, I say, ouer all;
Largesse in wordes, for rewardes are but small:
To make fayre promyse, what are ye the worse?
Let me haue the rule of your purse.

_Magn._ I haue taken it to Largesse and Lyberte.

_Cl. Col._ Than is it done as it sholde be:
But vse your largesse by the aduyse of me,
And I shall waraunt you welth and lyberte.

_Magn._ Say on; me thynke your reasons be profounde. 1790

_Cl. Col._ Syr, of my counsayle this shall be the grounde,
To chose out ii. iii. of suche as you loue best,
And let all your fansyes vpon them rest;
Spare for no cost to gyue them pounde and peny,
Better to make iii. ryche than for to make many;
Gyue them more than ynoughe and let them not lacke,
And as for all other let them trusse and packe;
Plucke from an hundred, and gyue it to thre,
Let neyther patent scape them nor fee;
And where soeuer you wyll fall to a rekenynge, 1800
Those thre wyll be redy euen at your bekenynge,
For then[844] shall you haue at lyberte to lowte;
Let them haue all, and the other go without:
Thus ioy without mesure you shall haue.

_Magn._ Thou sayst truthe, by the harte that God me gaue!
For, as thou sayst, ryght so shall it be:
And here I make thé vpon Lyberte
To be superuysour, and on Largesse also,
For as thou wylte, so shall the game go;
For in Pleasure, and Surueyaunce, and also in thé, 1810
I haue set my hole felycyte,
And suche as you wyll shall lacke no promocyon.

_Cl. Col._ Syr, syth that in me ye haue suche deuocyon,
Commyttynge to me and to my felowes twayne
Your welthe and felycyte, I trust we shall optayne
To do you seruyce after your appetyte.

_Magn._ In faythe, and your seruyce ryght well shall I acquyte;
And therfore hye you hens, and take this ouersyght.

_Cl. Col._ Nowe, Jesu preserue you, syr, prynce most of myght!

_Here goth CLOKED COLUSYON awaye, and leueth MAGNYFYCENCE alone in the place._

_Magn._ Thus, I say, I am enuyronned with solace; 1820
I drede no dyntes of fatall desteny.
Well were that lady myght stande in my grace,
Me to enbrace and loue moost specyally:
A Lorde, so I wolde halse her hartely,
So I wolde clepe her, so I wolde kys her swete!

_Here cometh in FOLY._

_Fol._ Mary, Cryst graunt ye catche no colde on your fete!

_Magn._ Who is this?

_Fol._ Consayte, syr, your owne man.

_Magn._ What tydynges with you, syr? I befole thy brayne pan.

_Fol._ By our lakyn, syr, I haue ben a hawkyng[845] for the wylde
swan. 1830
My hawke is rammysshe, and it happed that she ran,
Flewe I sholde say, in to an olde barne,
To reche at a rat, I coude not her warne;
She pynched her pynyon, by God, and catched harme:
It was a ronner; nay, fole, I warant her blode warme.

_Magn._ A, syr, thy iarfawcon and thou be hanged togyder!

_Fol._ And, syr, as I was comynge to you hyder,
I sawe a fox sucke on a kowes ydder,
And with a lyme rodde I toke them bothe togyder.
I trowe it be a frost, for the way is slydder: 1840
Se, for God auowe, for colde as I chydder.

_Magn._ Thy wordes hange togyder as fethers in the wynde.

_Fol._ A, syr, tolde I not you howe I dyd fynde
A knaue and a carle, and all of one kynde?
I sawe a wethercocke wagge with the wynde;
Grete meruayle I had, and mused in my mynde;
The houndes ranne before, and the hare behynde;
I sawe a losell lede a lurden, and they were bothe blynde;
I sawe a sowter go to supper or euer he had dynde.

_Magn._ By Cockes harte, thou arte a fyne mery knaue. 1850

_Fol._ I make God auowe, ye wyll none other men[846] haue.

_Magn._ What sayst thou?

_Fol._ Mary, I pray God your maystershyp to saue:
I shall gyue you a gaude of a goslynge that I gaue,
The gander and the gose bothe grasynge on one graue;
Than Rowlande the reue ran, and I began to raue,
And with a brystell of a bore his berde dyd I shaue.

_Magn._ If euer I herde syke another, God gyue me shame.

_Fol._ Sym Sadylgose was my syer, and Dawcocke my dame:
I coude, and I lyst, garre you laughe at a game, 1860
Howe a wodcocke wrastled with a larke that was lame:
The bytter sayd boldly that they were to blame;
The feldfare wolde haue fydled, and it wolde not frame;
The crane and the curlewe therat gan to grame;
The snyte snyueled in the snowte and smyled at the game.

_Magn._ Cockes bones, herde you euer suche another?

_Fol._ Se, syr, I beseche you, Largesse my brother.

_Here FANSY cometh in._

_Magn._ What tydynges with you, syr, that you loke so sad?

_Fan._ When ye knowe that I knowe, ye wyll not be glad.

_Fol._ What, brother braynsyke, how farest thou? 1870

_Magn._ Ye, let be thy iapes, and tell me howe
The case requyreth.

_Fan._ Alasse, alasse, an heuy metynge!
I wolde tell you, and yf I myght for wepynge.

_Fol._ What, is all your myrthe nowe tourned to sorowe?
Fare well tyll sone, adue tyll to morowe.

_Here goth FOLY away._

_Magn._ I pray thé, Largesse, let be thy sobbynge.

_Fan._ Alasse, syr, ye are vndone with stelyng and robbynge!
Ye sent vs a superuysour for to take hede:
Take hede of your selfe, for nowe ye haue nede. 1880

_Magn._ What, hath Sadnesse begyled me so?

_Fan._ Nay, madnesse hath begyled you and many mo;
For Lyberte is gone and also Felycyte.

_Magn._ Gone? alasse, ye haue vndone me!

_Fan._ Nay, he that ye sent vs, Clokyd Colusyon,
And your payntyd Pleasure, Courtly Abusyon,
And your demenour with Counterfet Countenaunce,
And your suruayour,[847] Crafty Conueyaunce,
Or euer we were ware brought vs in aduersyte,
And had robbyd you quyte from all felycyte. 1890

_Magn._ Why, is this the largesse that I haue vsyd?

_Fan._ Nay, it was your fondnesse that ye haue vsyd.

_Magn._ And is this the credence that I gaue to the letter?

_Fan._ Why, coulde not your wyt serue you no better?

_Magn._ Why, who wolde haue thought in you suche gyle?

_Fan._ What? yes, by the rode, syr, it was I all this whyle
That you trustyd, and Fansy is my name;
And Foly, my broder, that made you moche game.

_Here cometh in ADUERSYTE._

_Magn._ Alas, who[848] is yonder, that grymly lokys?

_Fan._ Adewe, for I wyll not come in his clokys.[849] 1900

_Magn._ Lorde, so my flesshe trymblyth nowe for drede!

_Here MAGNYFYCENCE is beten downe, and spoylyd from all his goodys and rayment._

_Aduer._ I am Aduersyte, that for thy mysdede
From God am sent to quyte thé thy mede.
Vyle velyarde, thou must not nowe my dynt withstande,
Thou must not abyde the dynt of my hande:
Ly there, losell, for all thy pompe and pryde;
Thy pleasure now with payne and trouble shalbe tryde.
The stroke of God, Aduersyte I hyght;
I pluke downe kynge, prynce, lorde, and knyght,
I rushe at them rughly, and make them ly full lowe, 1910
And in theyr moste truste I make them ouerthrowe.
Thys losyll was a lorde, and lyuyd at his lust,
And nowe, lyke a lurden, he lyeth in the dust:
He knewe not hymselfe, his harte was so hye;
Nowe is there no man that wyll set by hym a flye:
He was wonte to boste, brage, and to brace;
Nowe dare he not for shame loke one in the face:
All worldly welth for hym to lytell was;
Nowe hath he ryght nought, naked as an asse:
Somtyme without measure he trusted in golde, 1920
And now without mesure he shal haue hunger and colde.
Lo, syrs, thus I handell them all
That folowe theyr fansyes in foly to fall:
Man or woman, of what estate they be,
I counsayle them beware of Aduersyte.
Of sorowfull seruauntes I haue many scores:
I vysyte them somtyme with blaynes and with sores;
With botches and carbuckyls in care I them knyt;
With the gowte I make them to grone where they syt;
Some I make lyppers and lazars full horse; 1930
And from that they loue best some I deuorse;
Some with the marmoll to halte I them make;
And some to cry out of the bone ake;
And some I vysyte with brennynge of fyre;
Of some I wrynge of the necke lyke a wyre;
And some I make in a rope to totter and walter;
And some for to hange themselfe in an halter;
And some I vysyte to[850] batayle, warre, and murther,
And make eche man to sle other;
To drowne or to sle themselfe with a knyfe; 1940
And all is for theyr vngracyous lyfe.
Yet somtyme I stryke where is none offence,
Bycause I wolde proue men of theyr pacyence.
But, nowe a dayes, to stryke I haue grete cause,
Lydderyns so lytell set by Goddes lawes.
Faders and moders, that be neclygent,
And suffre theyr chyldren to haue theyr entent,
To gyde them vertuously that wyll not remembre,
Them or theyr chyldren ofte tymes I dysmembre;
Theyr chyldren, bycause that they haue no mekenesse; 1950
I vysyte theyr faders and moders with sekenesse;
And yf I se therby they wyll not amende,
Then myschefe sodaynly I them sende;
For there is nothynge that more dyspleaseth God
Than from theyr chyldren to spare the rod
Of correccyon, but let them haue theyr wyll;
Some I make lame, and some I do kyll;
And some[851] I stryke with a franesy;
Of some of theyr chyldren I stryke out the eye;
And where the fader by wysdom worshyp hath wonne, 1960
I sende ofte tymes a fole to his sonne.
Wherfore of Aduersyte loke ye be ware,
For when I come, comyth sorowe and care:
For I stryke lordys of realmes and landys,
That rule not by mesure that they haue in theyr handys,
That sadly rule not theyr howsholde men;
I am Goddys preposytour, I prynt them with a pen;
Because of theyr neglygence and of theyr wanton vagys,
I vysyte them and stryke them with many sore plagys.
To take, syrs, example of that I you tell, 1970
And beware of aduersyte by my counsell,
Take hede of this caytyfe that lyeth here on grounde;
Beholde, howe Fortune of[852] hym hath frounde!
For though we shewe you this in game and play,
Yet it proueth eyrnest, ye may se, euery day.
For nowe wyll I from this caytyfe go,
And take myscheffe and vengeaunce of other mo,
That hath deseruyd it as well as he.
Howe, where art thou? come hether, Pouerte;
Take this caytyfe to thy lore. 1980

_Here cometh in POUERTE._[853]