horoscopum, quicunque maledixerit vati Pierio, S[keltonidi] L[aureato],
&c._
But if that I knewe what his name hight,
For clatering of me I would him sone quight;
For his false lying, of that I spake neuer,
I could make him shortly repent him for euer:
Although he made it neuer so tough,
He might be sure to haue shame ynough.
_Cerberus horrendo barathri latrando sub antro_
_Te rodatque voret, lingua dolosa, precor._
A fals double tunge is more fiers and fell
Then Cerberus the cur couching in the kenel of hel;
Wherof hereafter I thinke for to write,
Of fals double tunges in the dispite.
_Recipit se scripturum opus sanctum,[578] laudabile, acceptabile,
memorabileque, et nimis honorificandum._
_Disperdat Dominus universa labia dolosa et linguam magniloquam!_
[571] _Tertius_] A misprint: qy. “Versus?”
[572] _Against venemous tongues, &c._] From Marshe’s ed. of Skelton’s
_Workes_, 1568.
[573] _comice_] Ed. “comite.”
[574] _post ambulonum_] The Rev. J. Mitford would read “_ambulonum post_.”
[575] _manibus_] Ed. “mantibus.”
[576] _novacula_] Ed. “nouocla.”
[577] _Totnam_] Ed. “Totmā.”
[578] _sanctum_] Ed. “sancte.”
Ye may here now,[579] in this ryme,
How euery thing must haue a tyme.
Tyme is a thing that no man may resyst;
Tyme is trancytory and irreuocable;[580]
Who sayeth the contrary, tyme passeth as hym lyst;
Tyme must be taken in season couenable;
Take tyme when tyme is, for tyme is ay mutable;
All thynge hath tyme, who can for it prouyde;
Byde for tyme who wyll, for tyme wyll no man byde.[581]
Tyme to be sad, and tyme to play and sporte; 10
Tyme to take rest by way of recreacion;[582]
Tyme to study, and tyme to use comfort;
Tyme of pleasure, and tyme of consolation:
Thus tyme hath his tyme of diuers maner facion:
Tyme for to eate and drynke for thy repast;
Tyme to be lyberall, and tyme to make no wast;
Tyme to trauell, and tyme for to rest;
Tyme for to speake, and tyme to[583] holde thy pease;
Tyme would be vsed when tyme is best;
Tyme to begyn, and tyme for to cease; 20
And when tyme is, [to] put thyselfe in prease,
And when tyme is, to holde thyselfe abacke;
For tyme well spent can neuer haue lacke.
The rotys take theyr sap in tyme of vere;
In tyme of somer flowres fresh and grene;
In tyme of haruest men their corne shere;
In tyme of wynter the north wynde waxeth kene,
So bytterly bytynge the flowres be not sene;
The kalendis of Janus, with his frostes hore,
That tyme is when people must lyue vpon the store. 30
Quod Skelton, Laureat.
[579] _Ye may here, &c._] This and the next three poems are from the ed.
by Kynge and Marche of _Certaine bokes compyled by mayster Skelton_, n.
d., collated with the same work, ed. Day, n. d., and ed. Lant, and with
Marshe’s ed. of Skelton’s _Workes_, 1568. I may here notice that in those
eds. the present piece is preceded by a copy of verses, “All nobyll men
of this take hede,” &c., which will be given afterwards, before _Why come
ye not to Courte?_ where it is repeated in all the eds.
[580] _irreuocable_] So Marshe’s ed. Other eds. “irrouocable.”
[581] _byde_] Eds. of Day, and Marshe, “abide.”
[582] _recreacion_] So other eds. Ed. of Kynge and Marche, “creation.”
[583] _to_] Eds. of Day, and Marshe, “for _to_.”
PRAYER TO THE FATHER OF HEAUEN.
O radiant Luminary of lyght intermynable,
Celestial Father, potenciall God of myght,
Of heauen and earth, O Lord incomperable,
Of all perfections the essencial most perfyght!
O Maker of mankynde, that formyd day and nyghte,
Whose power imperyal comprehendeth euery place!
Myne hert, my mynde, my thought, my hole delyght
Is, after this lyfe, to see thy glorious face:
Whose magnifycence is incomprehensybyll,
All argumentes of reason which far doth excede, 10
Whose Deite dowtles is indiuysybyll,
From whom all goodnes and vertue doth procede;
Of thy support all creatures haue nede:
Assyst me, good Lord, and graunte me of thy grace,
To lyue to thy pleasure in word, thoughte, and dede,
And, after this lyfe, to see thy glorious face.
TO THE SECONDE PARSON.
O benygne Jesu, my souerayne Lord and Kynge,
The only Sonne of God by filiacion,
The Seconde Parson withouten[584] beginnynge,
Both God and man our fayth maketh playne relacion,
Mary the[585] mother, by way of incarnacion,
Whose glorious passion our soules doth reuyue!
Agayne all bodely and goostely trybulacion
Defende me with thy piteous woundis fyue.
O pereles Prynce, payned[586] to the deth,
Rufully rent, thy body wan and blo, 10
For my redempcion gaue vp thy vytall breth,
Was neuer sorow lyke to thy dedly wo!
Graunte me, out of this world when I shall go,
Thyne endles mercy for my preseruatyue;
Agaynst the world, the flesh, the deuyl also,
Defende me wyth thy pyteous woundis fyue.
[584] _withouten_] Eds. of Day, and Marshe, “without.”
[585] _the_] Qy. “thy?”
TO THE HOLY GOOSTE.
O firy feruence,[587] inflamed wyth all grace,
Enkyndelyng hertes with brandis charitable,
The endles reward of pleasure and solace,
To the Father and the Son thou art communicable
_In unitate_ which is inseperable!
O water of lyfe, O well of consolacion!
Agaynst all suggestions dedly and dampnable
Rescu me, good Lorde, by your preseruacion:
To whome is appropryed the Holy Ghost by name,
The Thyrde Parson, one God in Trinite, 10
Of perfyt loue thou art the ghostly flame:
O myrrour of mekenes, pease, and tranquylyte,
My confort, my counsell, my parfyt charyte!
O water of lyfe, O well of consolacion!
Agaynst all stormys of harde aduersyte
Rescu me, good Lord, by thy preseruacion. Amen.
Quod Skelton, Laureat.
[586] _payned_] So Lant’s ed. Other eds. “paynted.”
[587] _feruence_] So Lant’s ed. Other eds. “seruence” and “sentence.”
Woffully araid,[588]
My blode, man,
For thé ran,
It may not be naid;
My body bloo and wan,
Woffully araid.
Beholde me, I pray thé, with all thi hole reson,
And be not so hard hartid, and ffor this encheson,
Sith I for thi sowle sake was slayne in good seson,
Begylde and betraide by Judas fals treson; 10
Vnkyndly entretid,
With sharpe corde sore fretid,
The Jewis me thretid,
They mowid, they grynned, they scornyd me,
Condempnyd[589] to deth, as thou maist se,
Woffully araid.
Thus nakyd am I nailid, O man, for thy sake!
I loue thé, then loue me; why slepist thou? awake!
Remembir my tendir hart rote for thé brake,
With panys my vaynys constreyn[e]d to crake; 20
Thus toggid to and fro,
Thus wrappid all in woo,
Whereas neuer man was so,[590]
Entretid thus in most cruell wyse,
Was like a lombe offerd in sacrifice,
Woffully araid.
Off sharpe thorne I haue worne a crowne on my hede,
So paynyd, so straynyd, so rufull,[591] so red;
Thus bobbid, thus robbid,[592] thus for thy loue ded,
Onfaynyd[593] not deynyd[594] my blod for to shed; 30
My fete and handes sore
The[595] sturdy nailis bore;
What myȝt I suffir more
Than I haue don, O man, for thé?
Cum when thou list, wellcum to me,
Woffully araide.[596]
Off record thy good Lord y haue beyn and schal bee;
Y am thyn, thou artt myne, my brother y call thee;
Thé love I enterly; see whatt ys befall me!
Sore bettyng, sore thretyng, too mak thee, man, all fre: 40
Why art thou wnkynde?
Why hast nott mee yn mynde?
Cum ȝytt, and thou schalt fynde
Myne endlys mercy and grace;
See how a spere my hert dyd race,
Woyfully arayd.
Deyr brother, noo other thyng y off thee desyre
Butt gyve me thyne hert fre to rewarde myn hyre:
Y wrouȝt thé, I bowgȝt thé frome eternal fyre;
Y pray thé aray thé tooward my hyȝt empyre, 50
Above[597] the oryent,
Wheroff y am regent,
Lord God omnypotent,
Wyth me too reyn yn endlys welthe;
Remember, man, thy sawlys helthe.
Woofully arayd,
My blode, man,
For thé rane,
Hytt may nott be nayd;
My body blow and wane, 60
Woyfully arayde.
Explicit qd. Skelton.
[588] _Woffully araid_] From the Fairfax MS. (which once belonged
to Ralph Thoresby, and now forms part of the Additional MSS., 5465,
in the British Museum), where it occurs twice,—(fol. 76 and, less
perfectly, fol. 86); collated with a copy written in a very old hand
on the fly-leaves of _Boetius de Discip. Schol. cum notabili commento,
Daventrie_, 1496, 4to. (in the collection of the late Mr. Heber), which
has supplied several stanzas not in the Fairfax MS. It was printed from
the latter, not very correctly, by Sir John Hawkins, _Hist. of Music_,
ii. 89. I have followed the metrical arrangement of the MS. in the
_Boetius_.
[589] _condempnyd_] So sec. copy in Fairfax MS., and MS. in the
_Boetius_. First copy in F. MS. “condemp.”
[590] _Whereas neuer man was so_] MS. in the _Boetius_, “Ah _was never
man soo_.”
[591] _rufull_] MS. in the _Boetius_, “rowfully.”
[592] _bobbid ... robbid_] MS. in the _Boetius_, “bowde ... rowyd.”
[593] _Onfaynyd_] MS. in the _Boetius_, “Unfraynyd.”
[594] _deynyd_] MS. in the _Boetius_, “drynyde.”
[595] _The_] MS. in the _Boetius_, “Thes.”
[596] _Woffully araide_] Here the Fairfax MS. concludes: what follows is
given from the MS. in the _Boetius_.
[597] _Above_] MS. “I love.”
Now synge we,[598] as we were wont,
_Vexilla regis prodeunt_.
The kinges baner on felde is [s]playd,
The crosses mistry can not be nayd,
To whom our Sauyour was betrayd,
And for our sake;
Thus sayth he,
I suffre for thé,
My deth I take.
Now synge we, &c.
Beholde my shankes, behold my knees, 10
Beholde my hed, armes, and thees,
Beholde of me nothyng thou sees
But sorowe and pyne;
Thus was I spylt,
Man, for thy gylte,
And not for myne.
Now synge we, &c.
Behold my body, how Jewes it donge
With knots of whipcord and scourges strong;
As stremes of a well the blode out sprong
On euery syde; 20
The knottes were knyt,
Ryght well made with wyt,
They made woundes wyde.
Now synge we, &c.
Man, thou shalt now vnderstand,
Of my head, bothe fote and hand,
Are four c. and fyue thousand
Woundes and sixty;
Fifty and vii.
Were tolde full euen
Vpon my body. 30
Now synge we, &c.
Syth I for loue bought thé so dere,
As thou may se thy self here,
I pray thé with a ryght good chere
Loue me agayne,
That it lykes me
To suffre for thé
Now all this payne.
Now synge we, &c.
Man, vnderstand now thou shall,
In sted of drynke they gaue me gall,
And eysell mengled therwithall, 40
The Jewes fell;
These paynes on me
I suffred for thé
To bryng thé fro hell.
Now synge we, &c.
Now for thy lyfe thou hast mysled,
Mercy to aske be thou not adred;
The lest drop of blode that I for thé bled
Myght clense thé soone
Of all the syn
The worlde within, 50
If thou haddest doone.
Now synge we, &c.
I was more wrother with Judas,
For he wold no mercy aske,
Than I was for his trespas
Whan he me solde;
I was euer redy
To graunt hym mercy,
But he none wolde.
Now synge we, &c.
Lo, how I hold my armes abrode,
Thé to receyue redy isprode![599] 60
For the great loue that I to thé had
Well may thou knowe,
Some loue agayne
I wolde full fayne
Thou woldest to me shewe.
Now synge we, &c.
For loue I aske nothyng of thé
But stand fast in faythe, and syn thou fle,
And payne to lyue in honeste
Bothe nyght and day;
And thou shalt have blys 70
That neuer shall mys
Withouten nay.
Now synge we, &c.
Now, Jesu, for thy great goodnes,
That for man suffred great hardnes,
Saue vs fro the deuyls cruelnes,
And to blys vs send,
And graunt vs grace
To se thy face
Withouten ende.
Now synge we, &c.
[598] _Now synge we, &c._] From _Bibliographical Miscellanies_ (edited
by the Rev. Dr. Bliss), 1813, 4to, p. 48, where it is given from an
imperfect volume (or fragments of volumes) of black-letter _Christmas
Carolles_, partly (but probably not wholly) printed by Kele.
[599] _isprode_] _Bib. Mis._ “I sprede.”
[“CCCCXXXII.
“_Codex membranaceus in 4to, seculo xiv scriptus, figuris illuminatis,
sed injuria temporis pene deletis ornatus, in quo continetur_,
I. Polichronitudo basileos _sive_ historia belli quod Ricardus I. gessit
contra Sarracenos, _Gallice_.
_Hoc opus Skeltono ascribitur a Cl. Stanleio; primo autem intuitu satis
liquet codicem ipsum longe ante tempus quo claruit Skeltonus fuisse
scriptum, ab eoque regi dono missum, ut testantur sequentes versus
diverso et recenti caractere primæ paginæ inscripti_:”[600]]
_I, liber, et propera, regem tu pronus adora;_
_Me sibi commendes humilem Skeltonida vatem:_
_Ante suam majestatem, (per cætera passim,)_
_Inclyta bella refer, gessit quæ maximus heros_
_Anglorum, primus nostra de gente Ricardus,_
_Hector ut intrepidus, contra validissima castra_
_Gentis Agarenæ; memora quos ille labores,_
_Quos tulit angores, qualesque recepit honores._
_Sed_
_Chronica Francorum, validis inimica Britannis,_
_Sæpe solent celebres Britonum compescere laudes._ 10
[600] Nasmith’s _Catal. Libr. Manuscript, quos Coll. Corporis Christi et
B. Mariæ Virginis in Acad. Cantabrig. legavit Reverendiss. in Christo
Pater Matthæus Parker, Archiepisc. Cantuar._ p. 400. 1777, 4to.
THE MANER OF THE WORLD NOW A DAYES.[601]
So many poynted caps
Lased with double flaps,
And so gay felted hats,
Sawe I never:
So many good lessons,
So many good sermons,
And so few devocions,
Sawe I never.
So many gardes worne,
Jagged and al to-torne, 10
And so many falsely forsworne,
Sawe I never:
So few good polycies
In townes and cytyes
For kepinge of blinde hostryes
Sawe I never.
So many good warkes,
So few wel lerned clarkes,
And so few that goodnes markes,
Sawe I never: 20
Such pranked cotes and sleves,
So few yonge men that preves,
And such encrease of theves,
Sawe I never.
So many garded hose,
Such cornede shoes,
And so many envious foes,
Sawe I never:
So many questes sytte
With men of smale wit, 30
And so many falsely quitte,
Sawe I never.
So many gay swordes,
So many altered wordes,
And so few covered bordes,
Sawe I never:
So many empti purses,
So few good horses,
And so many curses,
Sawe I never. 40
Such bosters and braggers,
So newe fashyoned daggers,
And so many beggers,
Sawe I never:
So many propre knyves,
So well apparrelled wyves
And so yll of theyr lyves,
Saw I never.
So many cockolde makers,
So many crakers, 50
And so many peace breakers,
Saw I never:
So much vayne clothing
With cultyng and jagging,
And so much bragginge,
Saw I never.
So many newes and knackes,
So many naughty packes,
And so many that mony lackes,
Saw I never: 60
So many maidens with child
And wylfully begylde,
And so many places untilde,
Sawe I never.
So many women blamed
And rightuously defaimed,
And so lytle ashamed,
Sawe I never:
Widowes so sone wed
After their husbandes be deade, 70
Having such hast to bed,
Sawe I never.
So much strivinge
For goodes and for wivinge,
And so lytle thryvynge,
Sawe I never:
So many capacities,
Offices and pluralites,
And chaunging of dignities,
Sawe I never. 80
So many lawes to use
The truth to refuse,
Suche falshead to excuse,
Sawe I never:
Executers havinge the ware,
Taking so littel care
Howe the soule doth fare,
Sawe I never.
Amonge them that are riche
No frendshyp is to kepe tuche, 90
And such fayre glosing speche
Sawe I never:
So many pore
In every bordoure,
And so small soccoure,
Saw I never.
So proude and so gaye,
So riche in araye,
And so skant of money,
Saw I never: 100
So many bowyers,
So many fletchers,
And so few good archers,
Saw I never.
So many chepers,
So fewe biers,
And so many borowers,
Sawe I never:
So many alle sellers
In baudy holes and sellers, 110
Of yonge folkes yll counsellers,
Sawe I never.
So many pinkers,
So many thinkers,
And so many good ale drinkers,
Sawe I never:
So many wronges,
So few mery songes,
And so many yll tonges,
Sawe I never. 120
So many a vacabounde
Through al this londe,
And so many in pryson bonde,
I sawe never:
So many citacions,
So fewe oblacions,
And so many newe facions,
Sawe I never.
So many fleyng tales,
Pickers of purses and males, 130
And so many sales,
Saw I never:
So much preachinge,
Speaking fayre and teaching,
And so ill belevinge,
Saw I never.
So much wrath and envy,
Covetous and glottony,
And so litle charitie,
Sawe I never: 140
So many carders,
Revelers and dicers,
And so many yl ticers,
Sawe I never.
So many lollers,
So few true tollers,
So many baudes and pollers,
Sawe I never:
Such treachery,
Simony and usury, 150
Poverty and lechery,
Saw I never.
So many avayles,
So many geales,
And so many fals baylies,[602]
Sawe I never:
By fals and subtyll wayes
All England decayes,
For more envy and lyers[603]
Sawe I never. 160
So new facioned jackes
With brode flappes in the neckes,
And so gay new partlettes,
Sawe I never:
So many slutteshe cookes,
So new facioned tucking hookes,
And so few biers of bookes,
Saw I never.
Sometime we song of myrth and play,
But now our joy is gone away, 170
For so many fal in decay
Sawe I never:
Whither is the welth of England gon?
The spiritual saith they have none,
And so many wrongfully undone
Saw I never.
It is great pitie that every day
So many brybors go by the way,
And so many extorcioners in eche cuntrey
Sawe I never. 180
To thé, Lord, I make my mone,
For thou maist healpe us everichone:
Alas, the people is so wo begone,
Worse was it never!
Amendment
Were convenient,
But it may not be;
We have exiled veritie.
God is neither dead nor sicke;
He may amend al yet, 190
And trowe ye so in dede,
As ye beleve ye shal have mede.
After better I hope ever,
For worse was it never.
Finis. J. S.
[601] _The Maner of the World now a dayes_] Was _Imprinted at London
in Flete Strete at the signe of the Rose Garland by W. Copland_, n. d.
This piece (of the original impression of which I have not been able to
procure a sight) is now given from _Old Ballads_, 1840, edited by J. P.
Collier, Esq., for the Percy Society.
[602] _baylies_] Qy. “bayles?”
[603] _lyers_] Qy. “lyes?”
HERE AFTER FOLOWETH THE BOKE ENTYTULED WARE THE HAUKE,[604] PER SKELTON,
LAUREAT.
PROLOGUS SKELTONIDIS LAUREATI SUPER WARE THE HAWKE.
This worke deuysed is
For such as do amys;
And specyally to controule
Such as haue cure of soule,
That be so farre abused,
They cannot be excused
By reason nor by law;
But that they play the daw,
To hawke, or els to hunt
From the aulter[605] to the funte, 10
With cry vnreuerent,
Before the sacrament,
Within the holy church bowndis,
That of our faith the grounde is.
That pryest that hawkys so,
All grace is farre him fro;
He semeth a sysmatyke,
Or els an heretyke,
For fayth in him is faynte.
Therefore to make complaynte[606] 20
Of such mysaduysed
Parsons and dysgysed,
This boke we haue deuysed,
Compendiously comprysed,
No good priest to offende,
But suche dawes to amende,
In hope that no man shall
Be[607] myscontent withall.
I shall you make relacion,
By waye of apostrofacion, 30
Vnder supportacion
Of youre pacyent tolleracion,
How I, Skelton Laureat,
Deuysed and also wrate
Vpon a lewde curate,
A parson benyfyced,
But nothing well aduysed:
He shall be as now nameles,
But he shall not be blameles,
Nor he shal not be shameles; 40
For sure he wrought amys,
To hawke in my church of Dis.
This fonde frantyke fauconer,[608]
With his polutid pawtenar,[609]
As priest vnreuerent,
Streyght to the sacrament
He made his hawke to fly,
With hogeous showte and cry.
The hye auter[610] he strypt naked;
There on he stode, and craked; 50
He shoke downe all the clothis,
And sware horrible othes
Before the face of God,
By Moyses and Arons rod,
Or that he thens yede,
His hawke shoulde pray and fede
Vpon a pigeons maw.
The bloude ran downe raw
Vpon the auter stone;
The hawke tyrid on a bonne; 60
And in the holy place
She mutid there a chase
Vpon my corporas face.
Such _sacrificium laudis_
He made with suche gambawdis.
OBSERVATE.
His seconde hawke wexid gery,
And was with flying wery;
She had flowin so oft,
That on the rode loft
She perkyd her to rest. 70
The fauconer then was prest[611],
Came runnyng with a dow,
And cryed, Stow, stow, stow!
But she would not bow.
He then, to be sure,
Callid her with a lure.
Her mete[612] was very crude,
She had not wel endude;
She was not clene ensaymed,
She was not well reclaymed: 80
But the fawconer vnfayned
Was much more febler brayned.
The hawke had no lyst
To come to hys fyst;
She loked as she had the frounce;[613]
With that he gaue her a bounce
Full vpon the gorge:
I wyll not fayne nor forge;
The hawke with that clap
Fell downe with euyll hap. 90
The church dores were sparred,
Fast boltyd and barryd,
Yet wyth a prety gyn
I fortuned to come in,
This rebell to beholde,
Wherof I hym[614] controlde;
But he sayde that he woulde,
Agaynst my mynde and wyll,
In my churche hawke styll.
CONSIDERATE.
On Sainct John decollacion 100
He hawked on this facion,
_Tempore vesperarum,_
_Sed non secundum Sarum_,
But lyke a Marche harum,
His braynes were so _parum_.
He sayde he would not let
His houndis for to fet,
To hunte there by lyberte
In the dyspyte of me,
And to halow there the fox: 110
Downe went my offerynge box,
Boke, bell, and candyll,
All that he myght handyll;
Cros, staffe, lectryne, and banner,
Fell downe on this manner.
DELIBERATE.
With, troll, cytrace, and trouy,
They ranged, hankin bouy,
My churche all aboute.
This fawconer then[615] gan showte,
These be my gospellers, 120
These be my pystillers,
These be my querysters
To helpe me to synge,
My hawkes to mattens rynge.
In this priestly gydynge
His hawke then flew vppon
The rode with Mary and John.
Delt he not lyke a fon?
Delt he not lyke a daw?
Or els is this Goddes law, 130
Decrees or decretals,
Or holy sinodals,
Or els prouincials,
Thus within the wals
Of holy church to deale,
Thus to rynge a peale
With his hawkis bels?
Dowtles such losels
Make the churche to be
In smale auctoryte: 140
A curate in speciall
To snappar and to fall
Into this open cryme;
To loke on this were tyme.
VIGILATE.
But who so that lokys
In the officiallis bokis,
Ther he[616] may se and reed
That this is matter indeed.
How be it, mayden Meed
Made theym to be agreed, 150
And so the Scrybe was feed,
And the Pharasay
Than durst nothing say,
But let the matter slyp,
And made truth to trip;
And of the spiritual law
They made but a gewgaw,
And toke it out in drynke,
And this the cause doth shrynke:
The church is thus abused, 160
Reproched and pollutyd;
Correccion hath no[617] place,
And all for lacke of grace.
DEPLORATE.
Loke now in _Exodi_,
And _de arca Domini_,
With _Regum_ by and by;
The Bybyll wyll not ly;
How the Temple was kept,
How the Temple was swept,
Where _sanguis taurorum,_ 170
_Aut sanguis vitulorum_,
Was offryd within the wallis,
After ceremoniallis;
When it was poluted,
Sentence was executed,
By wey of expiacion,
For reconciliacion.[618]
DIVINITATE.[619]
Then muche more, by the rode,
Where Christis precious blode
Dayly offred is, 180
To be poluted this;
And that he wyshed withall
That the dowues donge downe might fal
Into my chalis at mas,
When consecrated was
The blessed sacrament:
O prieest vnreuerent!
He sayde that he woulde hunt
From the aulter to the funt.
REFORMATE.
Of no tyrande I rede, 190
That so farre dyd excede;
Neyther yet Dioclesyan,
Nor yet Domisian,
Nor yet[620] croked Cacus,
Nor yet dronken Bacus;[621]
Nother Olibrius,
Nor Dionisyus;
Nother Phalary,
Rehersed in Valery;
Nor Sardanapall, 200
Vnhappiest of all;
Nor Nero the worst,
Nor Clawdius the curst;
Nor yet Egeas,
Nor yet Syr Pherumbras;
Nother Zorobabell,
Nor cruel Jesabell;
Nor yet Tarquinius,
Whom Tytus Liuius
In wrytynge doth enroll; 210
I haue red them poll by poll;
The story of Arystobell,
And of Constantinopell,[622]
Whiche citye miscreantys wan,
And slew many a Christen man;
Yet the Sowden, nor the Turke,
Wrought neuer suche a worke,
For to let theyr hawkes fly
In the Church of Saint Sophy;
With much matter more, 220
That I kepe in store.
PENSITATE.
Then in a tabull playne
I wroute a verse or twayne,
Whereat he made dysdayne:
The pekysh parsons brayne
Cowde not rech nor attayne
What the sentence ment;
He sayde, for a crokid intent
The wordes were paruerted:
And this he ouerthwarted. 230
Of the which proces
Ye may know more expres,
If it please you to loke
In the resydew of this boke.
_Here after followeth the tabull._
Loke on this tabull,
Whether thou art abull
To rede or to spell
What these verses tell.
_Sicculo lutueris est colo būraarā[623]_
_Nixphedras uisarum caniuter tuntantes[624]_
_Raterplas Natābrian[625] umsudus itnugenus._
_18. 10. 2. 11. 19. 4. 13. 3. 3. 1. tēualet.[626]_
_Chartula stet, precor, hæc nullo[627] temeranda petulco:_
_Hos rapiet numeros non homo, sed mala bos._
_Ex parte rem chartæ adverte aperte, pone Musam Arethusam hanc._