Part 20 (1/2)

Of other folys yet is a moche nomber Whom I wolde gladly brynge to intellygence To auoyde their blyndnes which sore doth incomber Theyr mynde and herte for lackynge of science Suche ar vnware and gyuen to neglygence Mad and mysmyndyd pryuate of wysdome Makynge no prouysyon for the tyme to come.

If any mysfortune aduersyte or wo As often hapnyth, to suche a fole doth fall Than sayth he I thought it wolde nat haue be so But than ouer late is it agayne to call It is nat ynough thou fole to say I shall For this one daye prouyde me by wysdome A wyse man seyth peryll longe before it come

He is vnwyse and of prouysyon pore That nought can se before he haue damage Whan the stede is stolyn to shyt the stable dore Comys small pleasoure profyte or vauntage But he that can suche folysshenes a.s.swage Begynnynge by counsayll, and fore prouydence Is sure to escape all inconuenyence

Whan Adam tastyd the appyll in Paradyse.

To hym prohybyte by dyuyne commaundement If he had noted the ende of his interpryse To Eue he wolde nat haue ben obedyent Thus he endured right bytter punysshement For his blynde erroure and improuydence That all his lynage rue sore for his offence.

Hymselfe dryuyn out from Paradyce all bare With Eue, into this vale of wretchydnes To get theyr lyuynge with laboure payne and care And also if Jonathas by errour and blyndnes Had nat receyued the gyftis of falsnes Unto hym gyuen of Tryphon by abusyon He sholde haue escapyd great confusyon

If that he before had notyd craftely His ennemyes gyftis of frawde full and of treason He myght haue sauyd hymselfe from ieoperdy And all his people by prouydence and reason Where as he blynde was as at that season And to a cyte broughte in by a trayne Where he was murdred and all his people slayne

Julius Cesar the chefe of conquerours Was euer warre and prudent of counsayle But whan he had obteyned great honours And drewe to rest as wery of Batayle Than his vnwarnes causyd hym to wayle For if he had red with good aduys.e.m.e.nt The letter whiche to the counselhous was sent

He had nat gyuen his owne iugement As he dyd by his foly and neglygence For whiche he murdred was incontynent Without respect had vnto his excellence Alas se here what inconuenyence Came to this Emperour hye and excellent For nat beyng wyse dyscrete and prouydent

If Nichanor before had noted well The ende of his dedes he had nat be slayne By Judas and the children of Israell His hande and tunge cut of to his great payne And than his hede, as the bybyll sheweth playne Thus may all knowe that wyll therto entende Wherto they come that caryth nat the ende

But he that begynneth by counsayll and wysdome Alway procedynge with good prouysyon Notynge what is past and what is for to come Suche folowys G.o.dly scripture and monycion In happy wayes without transgressyon Of G.o.ddes lawes, and his commaundement And often tymes comys to his intent.

Thus it appereth playne and euydent That wyse prouysyon, prose and good counsayle Are moche laudable, and also excellent And to mankynde great profyte and auayle.

Where as those folys haue often cause to wayle For theyr mysfortune, in sorowe vexed sore Whiche ought begyn nat prouydyd before

THE ENUOY OF ALEXANDER BARCLAY.

O man remember thou canste nat abyde Styll in this lyfe therfore moste specially For thy last ende thou oughtest to prouyde.

For that prouysion forsoth is most G.o.dly And than next after thy mynde thou ought aply To fle offence, and bewayle thyne olde synne And in all workes and besynes worldly What may be the ende marke well or thou begynne

Of disordred loue and veneryous.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Here drawe we folys mad togyther bounde Whom Uenus caught hath in hyr net a snare Whose blynde hertes this forour doth confounde Theyr lyfe consumynge in sorowe shame and care Many one she blyndeth alas fewe can beware Of hyr dartes hedyd with shame and vylany But he that is wondyd can skant ynde remedy]

O cruel Uenus forsoth who doth insue Thy flaterynge gylys and proude commaundement And hastyth nat the dartis to eschewe Of blynde Cupido but folowys his intent Suche folys endure moche sorowe and turment Wastynge theyr goodes dishonestynge their name As past fere of G.o.d and sekynge after shame

Howe many yllys, what inconuenyence Howe great vengeaunce, and howe bytter punysshement Hath G.o.d oft takyn for this synne and offence Howe many Cytees hye and excellent Hath Uenus lost, destroyed, and alto brent What lordes and howe many a great estate Hath loue lost, murdred, or els brought in debate

The n.o.ble Troyans murdred ar and slayne Theyr cyte brent, decayde is theyr kyngdome Theyr kynge pryant by pyrrus dede and slayne And all this by Parys vnhappy loue is come Whiche voyde of grace and blynde without wysdome To fyll his l.u.s.t, from Grece rubbyd Helayne, But this one pleasour was grounde of moche payne

Also Marcus a Prynce of the Romayns Called Antonius by another name After that he had ouercome the persyans To Rome retournyd with tryumphe lawde and fame And there (whiche after was to his great shame) With cleopatra in loue was take so in blyndnes That he promysyd to make hir empresse

So this blynde louer to fyll his interpryse Caused his men two hondred shyppes ordayne And toke the see wenynge in suche fourme and wyse His lewde desyre: to perfourme and obteyne But shortly after was he ouercome and slayne Of Cesar: and whan he this purpose vnderstode He bathed his Corse within his lemmans blode

For two serpentis that venemus were and fell Were set to the brestis of fayre Cleopatray So this cruell purpose had punysshement cruell For theyr intendynge theyr countrey to betray And worthy they were, what man can it denay Thus it apereth playne by euydence That of false loue cometh great inconuenyence

For he that loueth is voyde of all reason Wandrynge in the worlde without lawe or mesure In thought and fere sore vexed eche season And greuous dolours in loue he must endure No creature hym selfe may well a.s.sure From loues soft dartis: I say none on the grounde But mad and folysshe bydes he whiche hath the wounde

Aye rennynge as franatyke no reason in his mynde He hath no constaunce nor ease within his herte His iyen ar blynde, his wyll alwaye inclyned To louys preceptes yet can nat he departe The Net is stronge, the fole caught can nat starte The darte is sharpe, who euer is in the chayne Can nat his sorowe in vysage hyde nor fayne

Rede howe Phedra hir loue fixed so feruent On ypolitus in prohybyte auowtry.

That whan he wolde nat vnto hir consent To hir husbonde she accused hym falsly As if he wolde hir tane by force to vylany Ipolitus was murdred for this accus.e.m.e.nt But Phedra for wo hanged hyrself incontynent