Part 22 (2/2)

Or els to wyde, and shortly for to say With one or none of them he strykis the marke: And he that taketh vpon hym nyght or day Laboures dyuers to chargeable of warke.

Or dyuerse offycis: suche wander in the darke For it is harde to do well as he ought To hym that on dyuerse thynges hath his thought

With great thoughtes he troubleth sore his brayne His mynde vnstable, his wyt alway wandrynge: Nowe here nowe there his body labours in payne And in no place of stedfast abydynge.

Nowe workynge now musynge now renynge now rydynge Now on see nowe on londe, than to se agayne Somtyme to Fraunce, and nowe to Flaunders or Spayne

Thus is it paynfull and no thynge profytable On many labours a man to set his mynde For nouther his wyt nor body can be stable Whiche wyll his body to dyuers chargis bynde Whyle one goth forwarde the other bydes behynde Therfore I the counseyll for thyne owne behoue Let go this worlde and serue thy lorde aboue

He that his mynde settyth G.o.d truly to serue And his sayntes: this worlde settynge at nought Shall for rewarde euerlastynge ioy deserue But in this worlde, he that settyth his thought All men to please, and in fauour to be brought Must lout and lurke, flater, lawde, and lye: And cloke a knauys counseyll, though it fals be

If any do hym wronge or iniury He must it suffer and pacyently endure A dowble tunge with wordes lyke hony And of his offycis if he wyll be sure He must be sober and colde of his langage More to a knaue, than to one of hye lynage

Oft must he stoupe his bonet in his honde His maysters backe he must oft shrape and clawe His breste anoyntynge, his mynde to vnderstonde But be it G.o.de or bad therafter must he drawe Without he can Jest he is nat worth a strawe.

But in the meane tyme beware that he none checke For than layth malyce a mylstone in his necke

He that in court wyll loue and fauour haue A fole must hym fayne, if he were none afore And be as felowe to euery boy and knaue And to please his lorde he must styll laboure sore His manyfolde charge maketh hym coueyt more That he had leuer serue a man in myserye Than serue his maker in tranquylyte

But yet whan he hath done his dylygence His lorde to serue as I before haue sayde For one small faute or neglygent offence Suche a displeasoure agaynst hym may be layde That out is he cast bare and vnpuruayde.

Whether he be gentyll, yeman grome or page Thus worldly seruyce is no sure herytage

Wherfore I may proue by these examples playne That it is better more G.o.dly and plesant To leue this mondayne casualte and payne And to thy maker one G.o.d to be seruaunt Whiche whyle thou lyuest shall nat let the want That thou desyrest iustly, for thy syruyce And than after gyue the, the ioyes of Paradyse.

BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

Alas man aryse out of Idolatry.

Worshyp nat thy ryches nor thy vayne treasoure Ne this wretchyd worlde full of mysery.

But lawde thy maker and thy sauyour With fere, mekenes, fayth, glory, and honoure Let thy treasoure onely in his seruyce be And here be content with symple behauoure Hauynge in this lorde trust and felycyte

Of to moche spekynge or bablynge.

[Ill.u.s.tration: He that his tunge can temper and refrayne And a.s.swage the foly of hasty langage Shall kepe his mynde from trowble, sadnes and payne And fynde therby great ease and auauntage Where as a hasty speker falleth in great domage Peryll and losse, in lyke wyse as the pye Betrays hir byrdes by hir chatrynge and crye.]

Ye blaberynge folys superflue of langage Come to our shyp our ankers ar in wayde By right and lawe ye may chalange a stage To you of Barklay it shall nat be denayde Howe be it the charge Pynson hathe on me layde With many folys our Nauy not to charge.

Yet ye of dewty shall haue a sympyll barge

Of this sorte thousandes ar withouten fayle That haue delyte in wordes voyde and vayne On men nat fawty somtyme vsynge to rayle On folysshe wordes settynge theyr herte and brayne They often touche to theyr owne shame and payne Suche thynges to whiche none wyll theyr mynde aply (Saue suche folys) to theyr shame and enuy

Say besy fole art thou nat well worthy To haue enuy, and that echone sholde the hate Whan by thy wordes soundynge to great foly Thou sore labrest to engender debate Some renneth fast thynkynge to come to late To gyue his counsell whan he seeth men in doute And lyghtly his folysshe bolt shall be shot out

Is it nat better for one his tunge to kepe Where as he myght (perchaunce) with honestee Than wordes to speke whiche make hym after wepe For great losse folowynge wo and aduersyte A worde ones spokyn reuoked can nat be Therfore thy fynger lay before thy lypes For a wyse mannys tunge, without aduys.e.m.e.nt trypes

He that wyll answere of his owne folysshe brayne Before that any requyreth his counsayle Shewith hym selfe and his hasty foly playne Wherby men knowe his wordes of none auayle Some haue delyted in mad blaborynge and frayle Whiche after haue suffred bytter punysshement For their wordes, spoken without aduys.e.m.e.nt

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