The Ship of Fools Part 27

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.

The more that they haue (the more they thynke they lacke) What deuyll can stop theyr throte so large and wyde Yet many all waste aboute Ryot and pryde

But yet is this moche more abhomynable That a.s.ses vntaught without wysdome or scyence Haue theyr proude myndes moste vnsaciable Nat commynge to worshyp by vertue nor prudence Yet counte they them worthy of this excellence Courters become prestis nought knowynge but the dyce They preste not for G.o.d, but for a benefyce

The clerke of the kechyn is a prest become In full trust to come to promosyon hye No thynge by vertue cunnynge nor wysdome But by couetyse, practyse and flatery The Stepyll and the chirche by this meane stand awry For some become rather prestis for couetyse.

Than for the loue of G.o.d or his seruyce.

Alas oft G.o.ddes goodes and cristis herytage Of suche folys is wastyd and spent in vayne In great folyes mundaynes and outrage Where it decreed, and ordeyned is certayne.

That prestis sholde helpe pore people that lyue in payne And with suche goodes kepe hospytalyte Whiche pryde ryot and Uenus suffreth nat to be

Thus is the grettest parte of the spiritualte Pore preste, persone, vicayr, relygyon and prelate With couetyse acloyde outher prodigalyte And folys promotyd causyth good clerkis haue hate Say lordes and bysshops with other of estate What mouyth you so gladly, suche to promote Whiche haue no cunnynge their wyt skant worth a grote

Wyll ye alway the folysshe a.s.se ouercharge With suche burthyns wherwith it can nat fare And suffer other to walke and ren at large And where they best myght bere theyr backes ar left bare And that is worst of all, suche folys can nat be ware But whan they ar promotyd after theyr owne entent.

Yet theyr insaciable mynde can neuer be content.

Some make exchanges and permutacions Some take to ferme, and some let out agayne Other folys for hope make resignacions And some for one G.o.d scosyth gladly twayne Some lyueth longe in hunger and in payne And in the somer day skarsly drynketh twyse Sparynge monay therwith to by a benefyce

Some for no wages in court doth attende With lorde or knyght, and all for this polecy To get of his lorde a benefyce at the ende And in the meane tyme ensueth rybawdry And somtyme laboureth by chraft of symony.

He playeth a fals cast, nat cessynge to coniure Tyll of some benefyce he at the last be sure

Than if this lorde haue in hym fauoure, he hath hope To haue another benefyce of gretter dignyte And so maketh a fals suggestyon to the pope For a Tot quot outher els a pluralyte Than shall he nat be pleased with .II. nouther thre But dyuers wyll he haue ay choppynge and changynge So oft a fole all and a G.o.de clerke no thynge

These of nought force so that they may haue gayne And golde ynough to spende on rybawdry and pryde They haue the profyte, another hath the payne The cure of the soulys of them is set asyde And no meruayle, for howe sholde they abyde.

To teche their parysshynges vertue wysdome or grace Syns no man can be atonys in euery place

Alas these folys our mayster criste betray Of mannes soule wherof they haue the cure And settynge in their stede syr Johnn of garnesey They thynketh them selfe dischargyd quyte and sure These folys note nat that euery creature.

Whiche here of soulys doth cure or charge take At domys day a compt for them shall make

But if I sholde touche all the enormytees The immoderat couetyse and desyre of dignyte That nowe is vsed amonge all the degrees Of benefycyd men ouer all the spiritualte I fere displeasour, and also I often se That trouth is blamed, and nat ay best to tell But he that in this lyfe wyll alway besy be To get dyuers prebendes shall haue the last in h.e.l.l

THENUOY OF BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

What meane ye gyders of Christis herytage Shall ye neuer leue this your deuowrynge mynde Shall ye no tyme your couytyse a.s.swage Whiche in G.o.ddes seruyce your hartis sore doth blynde Let this fals traytour no place amonge you fynde Graunt hym no rowne in churche nor in quere.

For this is sure ye shall all leue behynde We haue no Cyte, nor place abydynge here

Of them that prolonge from day to day to amende themselfe.

[Ill.u.s.tration: He that cras cras syngeth with the crowe Deferrynge the tyme of his amendement Amonge our folys, in this our shyp shall rowe For his presumpcion, dull mynde and blynde intent What knowe these folys whether G.o.d omnypotent Wyll graunt them to lyue vntyll another day.

Wherfore we ought to mende vs whyle we may.]

If vnto any almyghty G.o.d doth sende From heuen aboue by inspyracion dyuyne Wyll and G.o.de mynde his synnes to amende And with his grace his thoughtes enlumyne If that synner wyll nat therto enclyne But doth dyffer and dryue frome day to day A fole he is, no wyse man wyll denay

Yet many folowe this inconuenience And knowynge theyr owne vyce, and lyfe full of ordure The payne therof, and howe euery offence And synne is punysshed of eche creature Also they knowe that theyr deth is vnsure And dye they must knowynge no houre nor s.p.a.ce Yet synne they styll, nat receyuynge this grace

They folowe the crowes cry to theyr great sorowe Cras cras cras to morowe we shall amende And if we mende nat than, than shall we the next morowe Outher shortly after, we shall no more offende Amende mad fole whan G.o.d this grace doth sende He is vnwyse whiche trustes the crowes songe And that affermyth that he shall lyue so longe