Part 27 (1/2)

The tyme pa.s.seth as water in a ryuere No mortall man can it reuoke agayne Dethe with his dartis vnwarely doth apere It is the ende of euery man certayne The last of all ferys and ende of worldly payne But thoughe we knowe that we all must haue an ende We slepe in synne disdaynynge vs to amende

Some thynke them G.o.de, iust and excellent Myghty stronge and worthy of preemynence: Charitable, chast, constant and innocent Nat doutynge deth nor other inconuenyence But yet ar they wrappyd sore in synne and offence And in a vayne hope, contynue in suche wyse That all the worlde (saue them selfe) they dispyse

They take on them the workes of G.o.d omnipotent To iuge the secrete of mannys mynde and thought And where no sygne is sene playne and euydent They iuge a man saynge, his lyfe is nought And if deth one hath vnto his last ende brought (As mad) they mende nat theyr mysgouernaunce Nat thynkynge that they ensue must the same daunce

Suche folys fayne causes and often tymes say: That he that is dede vsed ryot and moche foly Whiche causyd hym to dye before his day And that he was feble, or full of malancoly Ouer sad, or prowde, disceytfull and pope holy Uiciously lyuynge in couetyse and gyle Wherfore G.o.d suffred hym lyue the shorter whyle

Lo these blynde folys saciat with vyce Jugeth hym that perchaunce dyd nat amys Whyle he here lyuyd, and is in paradyce Rewardyd for his workes in endles ioy and blys Where as this lewde Juger, here in this worlde is Styll lyuynge in synne, suffrynge great payne and wo And though he thynke hym G.o.de shall neuer come therto

He that in synne here lyeth fettered fast And iugeth the deth of his frende or neyboure Whiche from this lyfe is departed and past.

Let hym beware, for onys come shall the houre That he must fele dethis dolorouse rygoure.

And after that endure infernall punysshement For iugynge and mysdemynge of people innocent

The terme and day, of deth is moche vnsure The deth is sure, the houre is vncertayne Deth is generall to euery creature Theder we must all, be it pleasour or payne Wherfore wysdome wyll that we shulde refrayne From folysshe demynge and nons deth discus After deth G.o.d wot howe it shall be with vs

Alas full often a iust man G.o.de and true Of mynde innocent sad sober and sympyll Pa.s.synge his tyme in goodnes and vertue Is of these folys thought and demyd for yll And he that is nought, frowarde of dede and wyll Of these folys blynde frantyke and wode.

Without all reason is iugyd to be goode

Wherfore I proue that a blynde fole thou art To iuge or deme a mannys thought or intent For onely G.o.d knoweth our mynde and hart Wherto we gree and to what thynge we a.s.sent But who that is rightwyse iust, and innocent And louyth G.o.d with honour and with reuerence Than, may he boldely iuge anothers offence

ALEXANDER BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

Amende you folys: do way these folysshe wayes Take ye no charge: nat mete for your degre.

And note these wordes: whiche criste our sauyour sayes Juge nat another, and thou shalt nat iugyd be It longeth onely to the hye dyuynyte To iuge our mynde: for he is true iustyce All thynge discernynge by right and equyte No man sholde deme, whyle hym selfe is in vyce

Of pluralitees that is to say of them whiche charge them selfe with many benefycis.

[Ill.u.s.tration: That myller is a fole and here shall haue a barge And as a mad man shall fast therin be bounde Whiche his a.s.se wyll with so many sackes charge That the pore beste for payne fallys to the grounde Many in the chirche lyke hym may be founde.

Whiche so many benefycis labour to procure That their small myght can nat the charge endure.]

Amonge our folys delytynge them in vyces Is yet another sorte of the speritualte Whiche them ouerchargeth with dyuers benefyces And namely suche that lowest ar in degre Of byrth and cunnynge, of this condycion be Defylynge G.o.ddes rentis and the chirches goode Them selfe ouer ladynge, as men frantyke and wode

The weght is so great they can it nat endure Theyr myght is small, theyr cunnynge is moche lesse Thus this great charge wherof they haue the cure To infernall Fenn doth this pore a.s.se oppresse And to an a.s.se moste lyke he is doutles Whiche takynge on his backe sackes nyne or tenne.

Destroyeth hymselfe them leuynge in the fenne

But though one prebende were to hym suffycient Or one benefyce his lyuynge myght suffyse Yet this blynde fole is nat therwith content But labowreth for mo, and alway doth deuyse Fals meanes to come therto by couetyse He gapeth with his wyde throte insaciable And neuer can content his wyll abhomynable

So for the loue of the peny and ryches.

He taketh this charge to lyue in welth and eas.

Howe be it that sole that hath suche besynes And dyueres charges fyndeth great disseas Neyther shall he G.o.d, nor yet the worlde pleas And shall with his burthyns his mynde so vex and comber That halfe his cures, can he nat count nor nomber

These carefull caytyfs, that ar of this same sort With cures ar ouerchargyd so that of theyr mynde.

Rest haue they none, solace, pleasour nor conforte Howe be it they thynke therby great welth to fynde They gape yet euer, theyr maners lyke the wynde Theyr lyfe without all terme or sertaynte If they haue two lyuynges, yet loke they to haue thre

The folys whose hertis vnto this vyce ar bounde Upon theyr sholders bereth aboute a sacke.

Insaciable without botome, outher grounde: They thynke them nat lade though all be on theyr backe.