Blynde man inclere thy wylfull ignoraunce
Stande nat so great in thy owne conceyte
Ne in thy lewde fassyon set nat thy pleasaunce
Whether thou be pore or man of great estate
Another man moche more shall in the wayte
Of gode and yll than thou thy self canst do
Therfore be nat cause to thy self of disceyte
If one the teche: aply thy mynde therto
* * * * *
Of lepynges and dauncis and Folys that pas
theyr tyme in suche vanyte.
[Illustration: That fole that settyth his felycyte
In wanton daunces and lepes immoderate
Hath in my Shyp a rowme for his degre
Bysyde the stere for troublynge of his pate
He god dyspleasyth, whiche doth suche foly hate
Suche lese theyr tyme in vayne and oft therin
Ar many hurtis: and cause of dedely syn.]
Those folys a place may chalenge in my shyp
Whiche voyde of wysdome as men out of theyr mynde
Them selfe delyte to daunce to lepe and skyp
In compase rennynge lyke to the worlde wyde
In vnkynde labour, suche folys pleasour fynde
Rennynge about in this theyr furyous vyce
Lyke as it were in Bacchus sacryfyce
Or as the Druydans rennyth in vayne about
In theyr mad festes vpon the hylle of yde
Makynge theyr sacrafyce with furour noyse and shout
Whan theyr madnes settyth theyr wyt asyde
Or whan the prestis of mars all nyght abyde
Within theyr temple by vse abhomynable
To theyr ydollys doynge theyr seruyce detestable
Lyke as these paynyms hath to theyr ydols done
Theyr sacryfyce wandrynge in theyr madnes
Theyr bodyes weryenge, in vayne wastynge their shone
So do these fowlys them selfe to daunsynge dres
Sekynge occason of great vnhappynes
They take suche labour without all hope of gayne
Without rewarde sure, of werynes and payne
Say Folys that vse this fury and outrage
What causyth you to haue delyte therin
For your great labour say what is your wage
Forsoth ye can therby no profyte wyn
But seke occasyon (as I haue sayde) of syn
And for thy werynge thy fete thus in the dust
Thou gettest no gayne but cause of carnall lust
But whan I consyder of this folysshe game
The firste begynnynge and cause orygynall
I say the cause therof is worthy blame
For whan the deuyll to disceyue man mortall
And do contempt to the hye god eternall
Vpon a stage had set a Calfe of golde.
That euery man the same myght clere beholde
So than the Fende grounde of mysgouernaunce
Causyd the people this fygure to honour
As for theyr god and before the same to daunce.
Whan they were dronkon, thus fell they in errour
Of Idolatry, and forgate theyr creatour.
Before this ydoll daunsynge both wyfe and man
Dispysynge god: Thus daunsynge fyrst began
Suche blynde folyes and inconuenyence
Engendryth great hurte and incommodyte
And sawyth sede wherof groweth great offence
The grounde of vyce and of all enormyte
In it is pryde, fowle lust and lecherye
And whyle lewde lepys ar vysd in the daunce
Oft frowarde bargayns ar made by countenaunce
What els is daunsynge but euen a nurcery
Or els a bayte to purchase and meyntayne
In yonge hertis the vyle synne of rybawdry
Them fe*trynge therin, as in a dedely chayne
And to say trouth in wordes clere and playne
Venereous people haue all theyr hole pleasaunce
Theyr vyce to norysshe by this vnthryfty daunce
And wanton people disposyd vnto syn
To satysfye theyr mad concupyscence
With hasty cours vnto this daunsynge ryn
To seke occasyon of vyle synne and offence
And to expresse my mynde in short sentence
This vyciouse game oft tymes doth attyse
By his lewde synes, chast hartis vnto vyce
Than it in erth no game is more damnable
It semyth no peas, but Batayle openly
They that it vse of myndes seme vnstable
As mad folke rennynge with clamour showt and cry
What place is voyde of this furyous foly
None: so that I dout within a whyle
These folys the holy churche shall defyle
Of people what sort or order may we fynde
Ryche or pore hye or lowe of name
But by theyr folysshnes, and wanton mynde
Of eche sort some ar gyuen vnto the same
The prestis and clerkes to daunce haue no shame
The frere or monke in his frocke and cowle
Must daunce in his dortor lepynge to play the fole
To it comys children, maydes and wyues.
And flaterynge yonge men to se to haue theyr pray
The hande in hande great falshode oft contryues
The olde quean also this madnes wyll assay
And the olde dotarde thoughe he skantly may
For age and lamenes stere outher fote or hande
Yet playeth he the fole with other in the bande
Than lepe they about as folke past theyr mynde
With madnes amasyd rennynge in compace
He moste is commendyd that can moste lewdnes fynde
Or can most quyckly ren about the place
There ar all maners vsyd that lacke grace
Mouynge theyr bodyes in synes full of shame
Whiche doth theyr hertes to synne right sore inflame
So oft this vyce doth many one abuse
That whan they ar departyd from the daunce
On lust and synne contynually they muse
Hauynge therin theyr wyll and theyr pleasaunce
Than fall they oft to great mysgouernaunce
As folys gyuyn to worke vnprofytable
So in my shyp they well deserue a babyll.