Part 30 (1/2)
The hyllys ar hye, the valeys ar but lowe In valeys is come the hyllys ar barayne On hyest places most gras doth nat ay growe A mery thynge is mesure and easy to sustayne The hyest in great fere, the lowest lyue in payne Yet better ly on grounde, hauynge no name at all Than hye on a Clyf ferynge alway to fall
Thus as me thynke it is no thynge lawdable On fortunes whele, for one to clym to hye Syns the swyft cours therof is so vnstable And all must we leue whan we depart and dye Of our short lyfe haue we no certayntye For lachesys (whan that thou hast lefte drede) Of thy lyue dayes shall shortly breke the threde.
Atropos is egall to pore man and estate Defar wyll nat deth by prayer ne request No mortall man may his furour mytygate.
Nor of hym haue one day longer here to rest: Content the with measure (therfore) for it is best Coueyt nat to moche in honour to excell It is a fowle fall to fall from erth to h.e.l.l
Unstable fortune exalteth some a loft To this intent, them to brynge to an yll ende For who that hye clymmeth his fall can nat be soft If that mysfortune constrayne hym to dyscende Though Julius Cesar his lordshyp dyd extende Ouer all the worlde: yet fortune at the last.
From lyfe and lordshyp hym wretchydly dyd cast
This hath ben sene, is sene, and euer shall That most peryll is in hyest dignyte Howe many estatis, howe many men Royall.
Hath fortune dryuyn downe into aduersyte Rede dyuers cronycles, and thou shall playnly se That many thousandes hath endyd in doloure By theyr immoderate mynde to honoure
Ouer rede Bochas and than shalt thou se playne The fall of prynces wryten ryght compendeously There shalt thou se what punysshement and payne Haue to them fallen, somtyme by theyr foly And oft is moche preuy hatered and enuy Had agaynst lordes of the rude comonte Where euer they go: they lyue in ieopardye
Ay dowtynge deth by cursed gyle and treason Eche thynge mysdemynge, ferynge to be opprest By some mysfortune, with venym or with poyson.
Thus in great honour is neyther ioy nor rest But thought and fere, ye whyle the lyfe doth lest Thus who that procuryth great honour to attayne Procuryth with all, enuy, peryll, fere and payne
A lorde or state whom many men doth drede With loueles fere, and fayned countenaunce Unto hym selfe ought wysely to take hede And them to fere, if he wyll voyde myschaunce For why a comonty is of suche ignoraunce And so enuyous, that both erly and late They muse to destroy hym whom, they fere and hate
A man promotyd vnto hye dygnyte Shall haue loue shewyd hym by adulacion But no true loue nouther faythfull amyte.
Good fame nor name, ne commendacion Ye though he be worthy great exaltacion Pytefull louynge and full of equyte Yet harde is to please a folysshe comonte
Therfore me thynke of all thynge it is best Man to be pleased and content with his degre For why in mesure, is suerty eas and rest And ay moste peryll in hyest dignyte Fortune is full of changes and mutabylyte Trust nat therto, therby comyth do G.o.de But nowe hye nowe lowe, vnstable as a flode
ALEXANDER BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.
Labour nat man with to moche besy cure To clymme to hye lyst thou by fortune fall For certaynly, that man slepyth nat sure That lyeth lows vpon a narowe wall Better somtyme to serue, than for to gouerne all For whan the Net is throwen into the se The great fysshe ar taken and the prync.i.p.all Where as the small escapyth quyte and fre
Of them that be diseasyd and seke and ar impacient and in.o.bedyent to the Phesycyan.
[Ill.u.s.tration: If one be vexed with sore infirmyte Within his body felynge dyseas and payne And wyll nat gladly with perfyte mynde agre To a wyse Phesycian that wolde hym hele agayne He is a fole, and shall his foly sore complayne And if that he by his selfe wyll do sterue It is but well: syns he it doth deserue.]
He that is feble with sekenes outher wounde Wherwith he feleth hym selfe so kept in payne That dye he muste but if remedy be founde He is a fole, if that he haue dysdayne Of wyse Phesycyans: and medecines souerayne And wyll nat sue theyr counsell and aduys.e.m.e.nt Wherby he myght haue helth and short amendement
Thoughe the Phesycyan (of his lyfe) hym a.s.sure So he be ruled, and vnto his mynde agre The pacyent yet kepyth no dyete nor mesure In mete nor drynke, and wyll nat gouerned be But foloweth Ryot and all superfluyte Receyuynge colde water in stede of ale or wyne Agaynst read and counsell of crafty medycyne
What mete or drynke that is most contagious And most infectyf to his sekenes or dyseas And to hym forbyden, as moste contrarious Unto his sekenes. That namely doth hym pleas But that thynge that myght hym helpe and greatly eas He hatyth moste, and wyll none receyue at all.
Tyll this small sore, at the last become mortall
Suche wyll no counsell ensue, nor mesure haue Nor temper theym selfe in lesse nor yet in more.
Tyll theyr yll gouernaunce brynge them to theyr graue Retournynge into grounde lyke as they were before But who that soone wolde, be helyd of his sore Whan it is newe ought to fynde remedy.
For in olde sorys is greatest ieopardy
A small sparcle often tyme doth augment It selfe: and groweth to flames peryllous Right so small wellys whiche semeth to be spent With lytell sprynges and Ryuers, ofte so growys Unto great waters, depe and ieopadous.
So a small sore augmentyth, styll preuely By lytell and lytell for lacke of remedy
A small diseas whiche is ynoughe durable At the begynnynge, for lacke of medycyne At longe contynuaunce becomyth incurable The paynfull pacyent bryngynge vnto ruyne Wherfore who wyll to his owne helth enclyne And soone be helyd of yll without all tary To the Phesician ought nat to be contrary