The Ship of Fools Part 29

So is he a fole that doth to market brynge His Gese fast bounde, and game or sporte to se Lowsyth theyr fete, and suffreth them to fle]

Saynt George to borowe our Nauy is aflote Forth shall we sayle, thoughe that it be a payne And moche laboure to forge a pryuate bote For euery faute: yet shall I nat refrayne My hande nor penne: thoughe vnsure be my gayne My laboure sure: my wyt and reason thynne Than leue a thynge vnendyd better nat begynne

But in this place shall I a Shyp ordayne For that fole: that heryth great doctryne Wherby good maners and vertue aperyth playne He seth all goodnes, stody, and disciplyne And yet wyll nat his mynde therto enclyne But though he knowe what thynge is G.o.dlyest Ouer all the worlde, yet is he styll a beest.

Many of this sort wander and compase All studies, the wonders of the worlde to se With vnstabyll wynges fleynge from place to place Some seyth lawe and some dyuynyte But for all this byde they in one degre And if they were a.s.ses and folys blynde before After all these syghtes yet ar they moche more

They se moche nought lernynge, and hauynge no delyte In wysdome nor maners vertue nor goodnes Theyr tyme is loste, without wysdome or profyte Without grace, or other holynes But whyle they labour thus with besynes If they se ought newe, or any folysshe toy That lyghtly they lerne, and set theron theyr ioy.

By this desyre folys may knowen be For wytles men of fleynge mynde and brayne Ar best pleasyd with thynges of neweltye And them to haue, they spare no cost nor payne To dyuers londes to ren but all in vayne And so they labour alway from londe to londe To se all wonders, but nought they vnderstonde

Some fle to se the wonders of englonde Some to the court to se the maners there Some to Wallys, Holonde, to Fraunce or Irlonde To Lybye, afryke, and besyly enquere.

Of all marueyles, and skantly worth a here Some vnto Fraunce and some to Flaunders ren To so the wayes, and workes of cunnynge men

And to be shorte ouer all they range Spendynge theyr goodes about vnthryftynes In countrees knowen, vnknowen and strange But whan theyr iourney they homwarde must addres As folys vnware, and vagabundes thryftles They haue nought lerned, kept, nor with them brought Of maners, wysdome or other thynge that is ought

They that by the se sayle to londes strange Oft chaunge the place and planete of the fyrmament But theyr mynde nor maners they ne turne nor chaunge And namely suche that ar lewde and neglygent What euer they se styll one is theyr intent Whan he departyd, If that he were a sote Agayne anone he comyth in the same mynde and cote

Say mad folys blynde ouersene, and worthy scorne Fayne wolde I knowe what necessyte ye haue To go from the place where ye were bred and borne Into another londe to lerne to play the knaue Your mynde vnstable sheweth playne that ye raue Laboure nat so sore, to lerne to be a fole That cometh by it selfe without any other scole

He that is borne in walys or small brytayne To lerne to pyke and stele nedys nat go to Rome.

What nede we sayle to Flaunders or Almayne To lerne glotony, syns we may it lerne at home Suche lewdnes soon may we lerne of our wombe He that wyll lerne falshode gyle or sotelte May lerne it here as well as beyonde the se.

To pa.s.se the se to lerne Uenus rybawdry It is great foly, for thou mayst lerne thy fyll In shoppis Innes and sellers, ye somtyme openly At saynt Martyns Westmynster or at the tour hyll So that I fere all London, in tyme it shall fyll For it is there kept in lyght and in darke That the pore Stuys decays for lacke of warke

But brefely to speke, and this to set a syde He that on vyce, and synne wyll set his entent May lerne it in Englonde, if he at home abyde And that of all sortis: G.o.d sende amendement But if thou alway wyll nede be dylygent To labour in the worlde about from place to place Do as dyd Plato, than shalt thou fynde great grace

This G.o.dly plato laboured with dilygence To Egypt, and other londes sparynge for no payne Where euer he came: augmentynge his scyence And at the last retourned to Grece agayne His countrey natyf: with laude and name souerayne Thus he for all his wysdome laboured besyly But that fowle that nought can nought settyth by

Wherfore that gose that styll about wyll wander Moche seynge and herynge, and nought berynge away Shall home come agayne as wyse as a gander But more fole is he that may lerne euery day Without cost or laboure out of his owne countrey And whan the well of wysdome renneth by theyr dore Yet looth they the water as if that it were soure

ALEXANDER BARKLAY AD FATUOS VT DENT LOc.u.m OCTO SECUNDARIIS BEATE MARIE DE OTEREY QUI QUIDEM PRIMA HUIUS RATIS TRANSTRA MERENTUR.

Soft folys soft, a lytell slacke your pace Tyll I haue s.p.a.ce you to order by degre I haue eyght neyghbours, that firste shall haue a place Within this my shyp, for they most worthy be They may theyr lernynge receyue costeles and fre.

Theyr wallys ab.u.t.tynge and ioynynge to the scoles.

No thynge they can, yet nought wyll they lerne nor se Therfore shall they gyde this one shyp of foles.

THE ENUOY OF BARKLAY.

O vnauysyd, vnwyse and frowarde man Great cause thou hast to morne sore and complayne Whan no goodnes vertue nor wyt thou can And yet to lerne thou hast scorne and dysdayne Alas man mende, and spare no maner payne To get wysdome, and it thou shalt nat want Hym that nought wyll knowe, G.o.d wyll nat knowe certayne Wo is hym that wylfully is ignorant.

Of great wrathe, procedynge of small occasyon.

[Ill.u.s.tration: a.s.sys erys for our folys a lyuray is And he that wyll be wroth for a thynge of nought Of the same leuray is nat worthy to mys For who that by wrathe to suche a wyll is brought To sle his a.s.se for hir pas slowe and soft Shall after his fury, repent his mad foly For to a clere mynde, mad wrathe is ennemy]

Come nere, ye wrathfull men, take your rowme and place Within our shyp, and to slake our hastynes Mount on an a.s.se slowe of hir gate and pace Syns troublous wrath, in you, styreth this madnes Often lacke of myght a.s.swagyth cruelnes To a wylde cowe G.o.d doth short h.o.r.n.ys sende Wrath is great foly, where myght may nat extende

O man yll myndyd what helpeth the this yre None the commendyth whiche doth thy maners marke What doste thou: but the waste with thyne owne fyre Narrynge with thyselfe lyke as a dogge doth barke Without meke worde and pleasyd with no warke Art thou: but thoughe all men be dylygent Mad wrathe to please, yet who can it content

This man malycious whiche troubled is with wrath Nought els soundeth but the hoorse letter R Thoughe all be well, yet he none answere hath Saue the dogges letter, glowmynge with nar nar Suche labour nat this mad rancour to defar Nor yet his malyce to mytygate or a.s.swage But ioyeth to be drede of men for this outrage

His mouth fomyth his throte out gorgyth fyre His ferefull furoure is, his hole felycyte By his great yre, doth he coueyte and desyre Dowtyd to be: of the pore comontye His owne madnes and cruell furyosyte Wyll he nat knowe as he were nat culpable Of this mad fury and vyce abhomynable

Hym selfe is blynde, but other well note his dede He shall be poynted whether he go or ryde Saynge one to other take G.o.de regarde and hede Of yonder furyous fole whome reason doth nat gyde Beware his wayes fle hym on euery syde Who that hym sueth both hurte and shame shall fynde Thus other hym notyth but he hymself is blynde

So his a.s.se crys to hym ar inuysyble He thynkyth to haue pacyence though that he haue none And vnto hym it is thynge incredyble That suche ar folys whose pacyence is gone Thus coueytyth he to kepe his erys alone And to wrathfull men he wyll no thynge obiect For that hym selfe is with the same infect

But somwhat to touche the inconuenyences Whiche by this wrath procedyth to mankynde It is chefe grounde of many great offences Destroynge reason blyndynge the wyt and mynde By malyce man is to all yll inclynde Both symple man, and lordes excellent Do that by wrath oft whiche they after repent

Reuoke thy mynde, somwhat thy herte enclyne Unto Archytas a man of hye wysdome Borne the the ryche Cyte namyd Tarentyne Rede howe that he his malyce dyd ouercome For thoughe his seruaunt was fals to hym become And he sore mouyd to auenge the same offence Yet he refraynyd his wrathe by pacyence

So socrates so Senyk and Plato Suffred great wronge great iniury and payne And of your fayth sayntis right many mo For christ our mayster dyd great turment sustayne What wo or payne cowde saynt Laurance refrayne From pacience wherfore it is great shame For christen men if they do not the same

They suffred deth, ye, and yet were pacyent And many haue prayed, for suche that haue them slayne Where thou mad fole takest greuous punysshement For small occasyon, ye come by chaunce sodayne Fole thou art blynde, and mad to set thy brayne All thynge to venge (by wrath) that doth mysfall For he that part hath lost: by wrath oft lesyth all

And forsoth no meruayle, if suche wyse actours Hath wrathes madnes, expelled and set asyde For where that wrath doth rayne with his furours There can no reason nor wysedome longe abyde The wyt it wastyth: so is it a lewde gyde Therfore let mesure, this malyce holde agayne But pacyence is brydyll his madnes to refrayne

It longeth nat to any man of hye prudence For to be wrothe, yrous, or gyuys to malancoly No suche pa.s.syon nor inconuenyence Can fall to man, ay stedfast wyse and holy But folys ar moste troublyd with this foly Where as a wyse man for any aduersyte Lyueth in quyete mynde and tranquylyte

A man well manerd, sad sober and dyscrete If he be ware, wyse, chrafty and prouydent Beholdeth all thynge before his syght and fete.

Gydynge hym by mesure a vertue excellent Where as a fole doth all without aduys.e.m.e.nt And in euery thynge shewyth his folysshnes Wroth at eche worde, as mayster of madnes

Wherfore ye folys se ye no lenger tary But on the dull a.s.se hastely a.s.sende That a slowe beest may hasty folys cary For your mad wrath dowtyth no thynge the ende Your madnes can nat your blynde mysdede defende For who that one sleyth, angry and feruent Ought to be hangyd whan he is pacyent

THE ENUOY OF THE ACTOUR.

Blynde myndyd man whiche wylt all thynge ouercome Reputynge thy selfe, moste souerayne and royall If thou be wyse or partener of wysdome Labour to ouercome thyne owne selfe firste of all Thy wrath a.s.swage thou in especyall Let neyther malyce, nor yre with the abyde Thou art a fole the chefe or lorde to call Of other: whan thou can nat thy selfe well gyde.

Of the mutabylyte of fortune.

[Ill.u.s.tration: That man whiche hopyth hye vp to ascende On fortunes whele, and come to state royall If the whele turne, may doute sore to descende If he be hye the sorer is his fall So he whiche trustyth nat therto at all Shall in moste eas and suerty hymselfe gyde For vnsure fortune can in no place abyde]

We dayly proue by example and euydence That many be made folys mad and ignorant By the brode worlde, puttynge trust and confydence In fortunes whele vnsure and inconstant Some a.s.say the whele thynkynge it pleasant But whyle they to clym vp haue pleasour and desyre Theyr fete them faylyth so fall they in the myre

Promote a yeman, make hym a gentyl man And make a Baylyf of a Butchers son Make of a Squyer knyght, yet wyll they if they can Coueyt in theyr myndes hyer promosyon And many in the worlde haue this condicion In hope of honour by treason to conspyre But ofte they slyde, and so fall in the myre

Suche lokys so hye that they forget theyr fete On fortunes whele whiche turneth as a ball They seke degrees for theyr small myght vnmete Theyr folysshe hertis and blynde se nat theyr fall Some folys purpose to haue a rowme Royall Or clym by fortunes whele to an empyre The whele than turneth lyuynge them in the myre

O blynde man say what is thyne intent To worldly honoures so greatly to entende Or here to make the hye ryche and excellent Syns that so shortly thy lyfe must haue an ende None is so worthy, nor can so hye ascende Nor nought is so sure if thou the trouth enquyre But that it may doute to fall downe to the myre

There is no lorde Duke kynge nor other estate But dye they must, and from this wolde go All worldly thynges whiche G.o.d hath here create Shall nat ay byde, but haue an ende also What mortall man hath ben promotyd so: In worldly welthe or vncertayne dignyte That euer of lyfe had houre of certaynte

In stormy wyndes lowest trees ar most sure And howsys surest whiche ar nat byldyd hye Where as hye byldynges may no tempest endure Without they be foundyd sure and stedfastly So gretest men haue moste fere and ieopardy Better is pouertye though it be harde to bere Than is a hye degre in ieopardy and fere,