The mery moneth of September,
With the ix[707] daye of the same,
For then began our myrth and game;
So that now I haue deuysed,
And in my minde I haue comprysed, 70
Of the prowde Scot, kynge Jemmy,
To wryte some lyttle tragedy,
For no maner consyderacion
Of any sorowful lamentacion,
But for the special consolacion
Of all our royall Englysh nacion.
Melpomone,[708] O Muse tragediall,
Vnto your grace for grace now I call,
To guyde my pen and my pen to enbybe!
Illumyn me, your poete and your scrybe, 80
That with myxture of aloes and bytter gall
I may compounde confectures for a cordiall,
To angre the Scottes and Irysh keteringes withall,
That late were discomfect with battayle marcyall.
Thalia, my Muse, for you also call I,
To touche them with tauntes of your armony,
A medley to make of myrth with sadnes,
The hartes of England to comfort with gladnes:
And now to begyn I wyll me adres,
To you rehersynge the somme of my proces. 90
Kynge Jamy, Jemmy, Jocky my jo,[709]
Ye[710] summond our kynge,—why dyd ye so?
To you nothing it dyd accorde
To summon our kynge, your soueraygne lord.
A kyng, a sumner![711] it was great wonder:
Know ye not suger and salt asonder?
Your sumner to saucy, to malapert,
Your harrold in armes not yet halfe experte.
Ye thought ye dyd yet valyauntly,
Not worth thre skyppes of a pye: 100
Syr skyrgalyard, ye were so skyt,
Your wyll than ran before your wyt.
Your lege ye layd and your aly
Your frantick fable not worth a fly,
Frenche kynge, or one or other;
Regarded ye[712] should your lord, your brother.
Trowid ye, Syr Jemy, his nobul grace
From you, Syr Scot, would turne his face?
With, Gup, Syr Scot of Galawey!
Now is your pryde fall to decay. 110
Male vryd was your fals entent
For to offende your presydent,
Your souerayne lord most reuerent,
Your lord, your brother, and your regent.
In him is fygured Melchisedec,
And ye were disloyall Amalec.
He is our noble Scipione,[713]
Annoynted kynge; and ye were none,
Thoughe ye vntruly your father haue slayne.
His tytle is true in Fraunce to raygne; 120
And ye, proud Scot, Dunde, Dunbar,
Pardy, ye were his homager,
And suter to his parliament:
For your vntruth now ar ye shent.
Ye bare yourselfe somwhat to bold,
Therfore ye lost your copyehold;
Ye were bonde tenent to his estate;
Lost is your game, ye are checkmate.
Vnto the castell of Norram,
I vnderstande, to sone ye came. 130
At Branxston more and Flodden hylles,
Our Englysh bowes, our Englysh bylles,
Agaynst you gaue so sharpe a shower,
That of Scotland ye lost the flower.
The Whyte Lyon, there rampaunt of moode,
He ragyd and rent out your hart bloode;
He the Whyte, and ye[714] the Red,
The Whyte there slew the Red starke ded.
Thus for your guerdon quyt ar ye,
Thanked be God in Trinite, 140
And swete Sainct George, our ladies knyght!
Your eye is out; adew, good nyght!
Ye were starke mad to make a fray,
His grace beyng out of the way:
But, by the power and might of God,
For your owne[715] tayle ye made a rod.
Ye wanted wit, syr, at a worde;
Ye lost your spurres, ye lost your sworde.
Ye myght haue buskyd you to Huntley bankys;
Your pryde was peuysh to play such prankys: 150
Your pouerte coude not attayne
With our kynge royal war to mayntayne.
Of the kyng of Nauerne ye might take heed,
Vngraciously how he doth speed:
In[716] double delynge so he did dreme,
That he is kynge without a reme;
And, for example ye[717] would none take,
Experiens hath brought you in suche a brake.
Your welth, your ioy, your sport, your play,
Your bragynge bost, your royal aray, 160
Your beard so brym as bore at bay,
Your Seuen Systers, that gun so gay,
All haue ye lost and cast away.
Thus fortune hath tourned you, I dare well saye,
Now from a kynge to a clot of clay:
Out of your[718] robes ye were shaked,
And wretchedly ye lay starke naked.[719]
For lacke of grace hard was your hap:
The Popes curse[720] gaue you that clap.
Of the out yles the roughe foted Scottes, 170
We haue well eased them of the bottes:
The rude ranke Scottes, lyke dronken dranes,
At Englysh bowes haue fetched theyr banes.
It is not fytting[721] in tower and towne
A sumner[722] to were a kynges crowne:
Fortune on you therfore did frowne;
Ye were to hye, ye are cast downe.
Syr sumner, now where is your crowne?
Cast of your crowne, cast vp your crowne!
Syr sumner, now ye haue lost your crowne. 180
Quod Skelton laureate, oratoure to the Kynges most royall estate.
_Scotia,[723] redacta in formam provinciæ,_
_Regis parebit nutibus Angliæ:_
_Alioquin, per desertum Sin, super cherubim,_
_Cherubin, seraphim, seraphinque, ergo, &c._
[699] _Skelton Laureate against the Scottes_] The following pieces,
called forth by the battle of Flodden, and the lines on the Battle of the
Spurs annexed to them, are from the ed. of Kynge and Marche of _Certaine
bokes compyled by mayster Skelton_, n. d., collated with the same work,
ed. Day, n. d., ed. Lant, n. d., and with Marshe’s ed. of Skelton’s
_Workes_, 1568.
[700] _Branxton_] Day’s ed. “Branxion.”
[701] _Floddon_] So Marshe’s ed. Other eds. “Folddon.”
[702] _not_] Lant’s ed. “nat.”
[703] _to_] Not in Lant’s ed.
[704] _synge_] Marshe’s ed. “sin.”
[705] _syght_] Eds. of Day, and Marshe, “fight.”
[706] _sence_] So Marshe’s ed. Other eds. “fence.”
[707] _ix_] Eds. “xi.”
[708] _Melpomone_] Other eds. “Melnomone.”
[709] _jo_] So Lant’s ed. Other eds. “ioye.”
[710] _Ye_] So Lant’s ed. Not in other eds.
[711] _sumner_] Here and in next line but one, Marshe’s ed. “summer.”
[712] _ye_] Eds. of Day, and Marshe, “you.”
[713] _Scipione_] So other eds. Ed. of Kynge and Marche, “Scripione.”
[714] _ye_] Eds. of Day, and Marshe, “you.”
[715] _owne_] Not in eds. of Day, and Marshe.
[716] _In_] Eds. of Day, and Marshe, “An.”
[717] _ye_] Eds. “he.”
[718] _your_] So Lant’s ed. Not in other eds.
[719] _starke naked_] So Lant’s ed. Ed. of Kynge and Marche, and of Day,
“_starke_ your _naked_.” Marshe’s ed. “_starke_ all _naked_.”
[720] _curse_] Eds. “cures.”
[721] _fytting_] Other eds. “sytting” and “sitting,” which, perhaps,
Skelton wrote, as he elsewhere uses the word.
[722] _sumner_] Marshe’s ed. “summer,” here, and in the concluding line.
[723] _Scotia_] Eds. “Scotica.”
VNTO DIUERS PEOPLE THAT REMORD THIS[724] RYMYNGE AGAYNST THE SCOT JEMMY.
I am now constrayned,
With wordes nothynge fayned,
This inuectiue to make,
For some peoples[725] sake
That lyst for to iangyll
And waywardly to wrangyll
Agaynst this my makynge,
Their males therat shakynge,
At it reprehending,
And venemously stingynge, 10
Rebukynge and remordyng,
And nothing according.
Cause haue they[726] none other,
But for that he was brother,[727]
Brother vnnatural
Vnto our kynge royall,
Against whom he dyd fighte[728]
Falsly agaynst all ryght,
Lyke that vntrue rebell
Fals Kayn agaynst Abell. 20
Who so[729] therat pyketh mood,
The tokens are not good
To be true Englysh blood;
For, yf they vnderstood
His traytourly dispyght,
He was a recrayed knyght,
A subtyll sysmatyke,
Ryght nere an heretyke,
Of grace out of the state,
And died excomunycate. 30
And for he was a kynge,
The more shamefull rekenynge
Of hym should men report,
In ernest and in sport.
He skantly loueth our kynge,
That grudgeth at this thing:
That cast such ouerthwartes
Percase haue hollow hartes.
_Si veritatem dico, quare non creditis mihi?_
[724] _this_] So other eds. Ed. of Kynge and Marche, and of Lant, “his.”
[725] _peoples_] So Lant’s ed. Other eds. “people.”
[726] _haue they_] Eds. of Day, and Marshe, “_they haue_.”
[727] _brother_] Eds. of Day, and Marshe, “hys _brother_.”
[728] _fighte_] So other eds. Ed. of Kynge and Marche, “syght.”
[729] _Who so_] Eds. of Day, and Marshe, “But _who so_.”
CHORUS DE DIS[730] CONTRA SCOTTOS[731] CUM OMNI PROCESSIONALI FESTIVITATE
SOLEMNISAVIT HOC EPITOMA XXII DIE SEPTEMBRIS, &c.
_Salve, festa dies, toto resonabilis ævo,_
_Qua Scottus Jacobus, obrutus ense, cadit._
_Barbara Scottorum, gens, perfida, plena malorum,_
_Vincitur ad Norram, vertitur inque fugam._
_Vasta palus, sed campestris, (borie memoratur_
Branxton more), _Scottis terra perosa fuit._
_Scottica castra fremunt Floddun sub montibus altis,_
_Quæ valide invadens dissipat Angla manus._
_Millia Scottorum trusit gens Anglica passim;_
_Luxuriat tepido sanguine pinguis humus:_ 10
_Pars animas miseri miseras misere sub umbras,_
_Pars ruit in foveas, pars subiit latebras._
_Jam quid agit Jacobus, damnorum germine[732] cretus?_
_Perfidus ut Nemroth, lapsus ad ima[733] ruit._
_Dic modo, Scottorum dudum male sane malorum_
_Rector, nunc regeris, mortuus, ecce, jaces!_
_Sic Leo te rapidus, Leo Candidus, inclytus ursit,_
_Quo Leo tu[734] Rubeus ultima fata luis._
_Anglia, due choreas; resonent tua tympana, psallas;[735]_
_Da laudes Domino, da pin vota Deo._ 20
_Hæc laureatus Skeltonis, regius[736] orator._
[730] _Dis_] So eds. of Day, and Marshe. Other eds. “Dyd.”
[731] _Scottos_] So Lant’s ed. Other eds. “Scottes.”
[732] _germine_] Eds. “gremine.”
[733] _ima_] Eds. “iam.”
[734] _tu_] Eds. of Day, and Marshe, “in.”
[735] _tympana, psallas_] Qy. “tympana psalmis?”
[736] _regius_] Eds. of Day, and Marshe, “Regine.”
CHORUS DE DIS, &C. SUPER TRIUMPHALI VICTORIA CONTRA GALLOS, &C. CANTAVIT
SOLEMNITER HOC ELOGIUM IN PROFESTO DIVI JOHANNIS AD DECOLLATIONEM.
_Salve, festa dies, toto memorabilis ævo,_
_Qua rex Henricus Gallica bella premit._
_Henricus rutilans Octavus noster in armis_
_Tirwinnæ gentis mœnia[737] stravit humi._
_Sceptriger Anglorum bello validissimus Hector,_
_Francorum gentis colla superba terit._
_Dux armis nuper celebris, modo dux inermis,_
_De Longville modo dic quo tua pompa ruit?_
_De Clermount clarus dudum dic, Galle superbe,_
_Unde superbus eris? carcere nonne gemis?_ 10
_Discite Francorum gens cætera capta, Britannum_
_Noscite magnanimum, subdite vosque sibi._
_Gloria Cappadocis, divæ milesque Mariæ,_
_Illius hic sub ope Gallica regna reget._
_Hoc insigne bonum, divino numine gestum,_
_Anglica gens referat semper, ovansque canat._
_Per Skeltonida laureatum, oratorem regium._
[737] _mœnia_] Eds. of Day, and Marshe, “menit.”
VILITISSIMUS[738] SCOTUS DUNDAS ALLEGAT CAUDAS CONTRA ANGLIGENAS.
_Caudatos Anglos, spurcissime Scote, quid effers?_
_Effrons es, quoque sons, mendax, tua spurcaque[739] bucca est._
_Anglicus a tergo_
_caudam gerit;_
_est canis ergo._
_Anglice caudate,_
_cape caudam_
_ne cadat a te._
_Ex causa caudæ_
_manet Anglica_
_gens sine laude._
_Diffamas patriam, qua non_
_est melior usquam._
_Cum cauda plaudis dum_
_possis, ad ostia pultas[740]_
_Mendicans; mendicus eris,_
_mendaxque bilinguis,_
_Scabidus, horribilis, quem_
_vermes sexque pedales_
_Corrodunt misere; miseris[741]_
_genus est maledictum._
Skelton, _nobilis poeta_.
Gup, Scot,
Ye blot:
_Laudate_
_Caudate_,
Set in better
Thy pentameter.
This Dundas,
This Scottishe as,
He rymes and railes
That Englishmen haue tailes. 10
_Skeltonus laureatus,_
_Anglicus natus,_
_Provocat Musas_
_Contra Dundas_
_Spurcissimum[742] Scotum,_
_Undique notum,_
_Rustice fotum,_
_Vapide potum._
Skelton laureat
After this rate 20
Defendeth with his pen
All Englysh men
Agayn Dundas,
That Scottishe asse.
Shake thy tayle, Scot, lyke a cur,
For thou beggest at euery mannes dur:
Tut, Scot, I sey,
Go shake thy[743] dog, hey!
Dundas of Galaway
With thy versyfyeng rayles 30
How they haue tayles.
By Jesu Christ,
Fals Scot, thou lyest:
But behynd in our hose
We bere there a rose
For thy Scottyshe nose,
A spectacle case
To couer thy face,
With tray deux ase.
A tolman[744] to blot, 40
A rough foted Scot!
Dundas, sir knaue,
Why doste thow depraue
This royall reame,
Whose radiant beame
And relucent light
Thou hast in despite,
Thou donghyll knyght?
But thou lakest might,
Dundas, dronken and drowsy, 50
Skabed, scuruy, and lowsy,
Of vnhappy generacion
And most vngracious nacion.
Dundas,
That dronke asse,
That ratis and rankis,
That prates and prankes
On Huntley bankes,
Take this our thankes;
Dunde, Dunbar,[745] 60
Walke, Scot,
Walke, sot,
Rayle not to far.
[738] _Vilitissimus_] So, perhaps, Skelton wrote; but qy.
“Vilissimus?”—This poem from Marshe’s ed. of Skelton’s _Workes_, 1568.
[739] _spurcaque_] Ed. “spureaquæ.”
[740] _pultas_] Ed. “pultes.”
[741] _miseris_] Ed. “miseres.”
[742] _Spurcissimum_] Ed. “Norpacissimum.”
[743] _thy_] Qy. “thé?” but see notes.
[744] _tolman_] See notes.
[745] _Dunde, Dunbar_] Ed. “Dunde bar.”
ELEGIA[746] IN SERENISSIMÆ PRINCIPIS ET DOMINÆ, DOMINÆ MARGARETÆ NUPER
COMITISSÆ DE DERBY, STRENUISSIMI REGIS HENRICI SEPTIMI MATRIS, FUNEBRE
MINISTERIUM, PER SKELTONIDA LAUREATUM, OBATOREM REGIUM, XVI. DIE[747]
MENSIS AUGUSTI, ANNO SALUTIS MDXVI.
_Aspirate meis elegis, pia turma sororum,_
_Et Margaretam collacrymate piam._
_Hac sub mole latet regis celeberrima mater_
_Henrici magni, quem locus iste fovet;_
_Quem locus iste sacer celebri celebrat polyandro,_
_Illius en genitrix hac tumulatur humo!_
_Cui cedat Tanaquil (Titus hanc super astra reportet[748]),_
_Cedat Penelope, carus Ulixis[749] amor:_
_Huic[750] Abigail, velut Hester, erat pietate secunda:_
_En tres jam proceres nobilitate pares!_ 10
_Pro domina, precor, implora, pro principe tanta_
_Flecte Deum precibus, qui legis hos apices._
_Plura referre piget, calamus torpore rigescit,_
_Dormit Mecænas, negligitur probitas;_
_Nec juvat, aut modicum prodest, nunc ultima versu_
_Fata[751] recensere (mortua mors reor est)._
_Quæris quid decus est? decus est modo dicier hircus;[752]_
_Cedit honos hirco, cedit honorque capro._
_Falleris ipse Charon; iterum surrexit Abyron,_
_Et Stygios remos despicit ille tuos._ 20
_Vivitur ex voto: mentis præcordia tangunt_
_Nulla sepulcra ducum, nec monumenta patrum;_
_Non regum, non ulla hominum labentia fato_
_Tempora, nec totiens[753] mortua turba ruens._
_Hinc[754] statuo certe perituræ parcere chartæ,_
_Ceu Juvenalis avet[755] eximius satirus._
_Distichon execrationis in phagolœdoros._
_Qui lacerat, violatve rapit præsens epitoma,_
_Hunc laceretque voret Cerberus absque mora!_
_Calon,[756] agaton, cum areta. Re. in pa._
_Hanc tecum statuas dominam, precor, O sator orbis,_
_Quo regnas rutilans rex sine fine manens!_
[746] _Elegia, &c._] From Marshe’s ed. of Skelton’s _Workes_, 1568,
collated with the piece as given in _Reges, Reginæ, Nobiles, et alii in
Ecclesia Collegiata B. Petri Westmonasterii sepulti_, &c., 1603, 4to.
[747] _die_] Not in Marshe’s ed.
[748] _reportet_] So _Reges_, &c. Marshe’s ed. “reportat.”
[749] _Ulixis_] _Reges_, “Ulyssis.”
[750] _Huic_] Eds. “Hec” and “Hæc.”
[751] _Fata_] So _Reges_. Marshe’s ed. “Facta.”
[752] _hircus_] So _Reges_, &c. Marshe’s ed. “hircum.”
[753] _totiens_] _Reges_, &c. “toties.”
[754] _Hinc_] So _Reges_, &c. Marshe’s ed. “Hunc.”
[755] _avet_] Eds. “ouat.”
[756] _Calon, &c.... pa._] Placed after the next two lines in _Reges_,
&c.
Why were ye[757] _Calliope_ embrawdred with letters of golde?
SKELTON LAUREATE, ORATO. REG. MAKETH THIS AUNSWERE, &C.
Calliope,
As ye may se,
Regent is she
Of poetes al,
Whiche gaue to me
The high degre
Laureat to be
Of fame royall;
Whose name enrolde
With silke and golde 10
I dare be bolde
Thus for to were.
Of her I holde
And her housholde;
Though I waxe olde
And somdele sere,
Yet is she fayne,
Voyde of disdayn,
Me to retayne
Her seruiture: 20
With her certayne
I wyll remayne,
As my souerayne
Moost of pleasure,
_Maulgre touz malheureux_.
[757] _Why were ye, &c._] These pieces on Calliope from Marshe’s ed. of
Skelton’s _Workes_, 1568.
LATINUM CARMEN SEQUITUR.
_Cur tibi contexta est aurea_ Calliope?
RESPONSIO EJUSDEM VATIS.
_Candida Calliope, vatum regina, coronans_
_Pierios lauro, radiante intexta sub auro!_
_Hanc ego Pierius tanto dignabor honore,_
_Dum mihi vita manet, dum spiritus hos regit artus:_
_Quamquam conficior senio marcescoque sensim,_
_Ipse tamen gestare sua hæc pia pignora certo,_
_Assensuque suo placidis parebo camenis._
_Inclyta Calliope, et semper mea maxima cura est._
_Hæc Pierius omni Spartano[758] liberior._
CALLIOPE,
_Musarum excellentissima, speciosissima, formosissima, heroicis præest
versibus._
[758] _Spartano_] Ed. “Spartane.”
THE BOKE OF THREE FOOLES,[759] M. SKELTON, POETE LAUREATE, GAUE TO MY
LORD CARDYNALL.
THE FYRST FOOLE.
The man that doth wed a wyfe
For her goodes and her rychesse,
And not for lygnage femynatyfe,
Procureth doloure and dystresse,
With infynyte payne and heuynesse;
For she wyll do hym moche sorowe,
Bothe at euyn and at morowe.
THE SECONDE FOOLE.
The dartes ryght cursed of Enuye
Hath rayned sythe the worlde began,
Whiche bryngeth man euydently
Into the bondes of Sathan;
Wherfore he is a dyscrete man
That can eschewe that euyll synne
Where body and soule is lost in.
THE THYRD FOOLE.
Dyuers by voluptuousnes
Of women, the which be present,
Be brought into full great dystres,
Forgettyng vertues excellent
Of God, the whych is permanent,
And suffreth themselfe to be bounde
In cordes, as it were a hounde.
Come hyther, and take this boke, and rede therein for your lernyng with
clere iyen, and loke in this boke, that sheweth you folysh fooles without
wyt or vnderstanding. Pecunyous fooles, that bee auaryce, and for to haue
good tyme and to lyue meryly, weddeth these olde wyddred women, whych
hath sackes full of nobles, claryfye here your syghte, and ye shal know
what goodnes commeth therby, and what joye and gladnes. Some there be
that habandoneth themselfe for to gather togyther the donge that yssueth
oute of theyr asses arse, for to fynde euermore grese: it is grete foly
trulye; but yet the yonge man is more folyssher the whiche weddeth an
olde wyfe, for to haue her golde and syluer. I say that he is a great
foole that taketh anne olde wyfe for her goodes, and is much to blame.
They the whiche do so procureth all trybulations; for with her he shall
neither haue ioy, recreacion, nor rest. He noryssheth stryfes and greate
debates, thoughte, payne, anguyshe, and melancoly: and yf he wolde
accomplysshe the workes of maryage, hee may not, for shee is so debylyte,
colde, vnpropyce, vnnaturall, and vndyscurrente, for the coldenes that
is in her. The husbande of this olde wyfe hath none esperaunce to haue
lygnage by her, for he neuer loued her. The man is a verye foole to make
his demoraunce vpon such an olde wife. Whan he thinketh somtime vpon such
thynges, he leseth his naturall wit, in cursynge hymselfe more then a m.
tymes with the golde and the syluer, and the cursed hasarde of Fortune.
And when he seeth his poore lyfe in suche dystresse, his hert is all
oppressed with melancoly and dolour: but whan the vnhappye man seeth
that it is force, and that hee is constrayned[760] to haue pacience, he
putteth his cure to draw to hym the money of the olde wyddred woman in
makyng to her glade chere. And whan hee hath the money and the bagge with
nobles, God knoweth what chere he maketh, wythoute thynkinge on them
that gathered[761] it. And when he hath spente al, he is more vnhappyer
then hee was before. Yf that the foole be vnhappye, it is well ryghte,
for hee hath wedded auaryce, mother of all euylles: yf hee had taken a
wyfe that had ben fayre and yonge, after his complection, he had not
fallen into so great an inconuenience. It is wryten in auncient bokes,
that hee whiche weddeth a wyfe by auaryce, and not for to haue lygnage,
hath no cure of the honestie of matrymonye, and thynketh full euyll on
his conscience. The vnyon of maryage is[762] decayed; for, vnder the
coloure of good and loyall maryage, is wedded auaryce, as we se euery day
by experience through the world. And one wil haue a wife, and that hee
marke his to be demaunded in maryage, they will enquyre of his ryches and
conninge. And on the other syde he wyl demaunde great goodes with her,
to norysshe her with: for and her father and mother and frendes haue no
greate ryches, he wyll not of her; but and she be ryche, hee demaundeth
none other thynge. It is written, that one were better haue his house in
deserte, whereas no mencion shoulde be of hym, thenne to bide with suche
wyues, for they be replete with all cursednes. And the pore foole breketh
his hearte; he loseth his soule, and corrompeth his body. He selleth
his youth vnto the olde wife that weddeth her for auaryce, and hath but
noyse and discention, in vsyng his lyfe thus in synne. Consydre, you
fooles, what seruytude ye put your self in, when ye wedde such wyues. I
pray you be chast, if that ye wyl lyue without vnhap. My frends, whiche
be not in that bande, put you not therin, and yee shalbe well happy.
Notwithstanding, I defende you not to mary, but I exhorte you to take
a wyfe that ye may haue progeny by, and solace bodely and gostly, and
thereby to wyn the ioyes of Paradyse.
OF ENUYE, THE SECONDE FOOLE.
Approche, you folyshe enuyous, the which can say no good by them that
ye hate, come and se in this booke youre peruerse and euyll condycions.
O Enuy, that deuoureth the condycions of men, and dyssypers of honour!
Thou makest to haue rauisshynge heartes famyshed; thou brennest the
desyres, and sleeth the soule in the ende; thou engendrest the darte
enuyronned with mischefe, that whiche traueyleth diuers folkes. Cursed
foole, howe haste thou thy heart so replete with cruelte? for, if I haue
temporall goodes, thou wilte haue enuye therat; or, if that I can worke
well, and that I apply mee vnto dyuers thynges the whiche be honest,
or if that I haue castels, landes, and tenementes, or if that I am
exalted vnto honoure by my science, or won it by my hardynes truely and
iustlye, or if that I am beloued of dyuers persons whiche reclaymeth mee
good and vertuous and of a noble courage, thou wylt vilepende me with
thy wordes: thou wottest neuer in what maner thou mayst adnychell mine
honour. Thy malicious hert is hurt with a mortall wounde, in such wise
that thou haste no ioye nor solace in this world, for the darte of Enuye
perceth thy herte lyke a spere. Thou hast wylde lycoure, the whiche
maketh all thy stomacke to be on a flambe. There is no medicyne that
maye hele thy mortall wounde. I, beynge in a place where as myne honoure
was magnyfyed, thoughte for to haue taken alyaunce with an odyfferaunt
floure, but all sodaynely I was smyten with a darte of Enuye behinde my
backe, wherthroughe all tho that were on my partye turned theyr backes
vpon me, for to agree to one of Venus dissolate seruauntes, procedynge
frome a hearte enuenymed with enuye. Wherfore I shall specyfye vnto you
the condycyons of the enuyous. Who that holdeth hym of the subgectes of
Enuye, she constytueth to deuoure and byte euery bodye; gyuynge vnhappes
and myseryes vnto her seruauntes. Suche folkes doth the innocente a
thousande wronges. They be replenysshed with so many treasons, that they
can not slepe in theyr beddes; they haue no swete cantycles nor songes.
They haue theyr tonges honyed with swete words vnder the coloure of loue;
they be lene, and infecte of rygoure these enuyous, more bytterer thenne
the gall of the fyshe glauca, wyth theyr eyen beholdinge a trauers, of
stomackes chaufed syntillously, and without their[763] mouthes, as the
vyne that is newe cut, they be enuyroned with rage and greate anguysshe,
beholdynge euermore to destroy some body. Conceyue the history of Joseph
in your myndes, the which had vii. brethren, that were enuyous against
him which was the yongeste, and solde hym vnto the marchauntes of Egypte
by enuy, and betrayed him; the which were delybered of a longe time to
haue destroyed him. These enuious neuer laughe but whan some good man
hath domage vpon the see or lande; or at the disfortune of some body,
he drynketh his bloud as milke. Notwithstandinge his heart is euer
enbraced with enuy, and as longe as he lyueth it shall gnawe his hert.
Hee resembleth vnto Ethna whiche brenneth alwayes. As of Romulus, and
Remus his brother, the whiche Romulus edefyed first Rome, and gaue it to
name Rome, after his owne name. Neuertheles they were pastours, for they
establyshed lawes in the citie. And Romulus punished euerye body egally.
He dyd instytute lymittes or markes aboute the citie, and ordeyned that
he that passed the lymyttes shuld be put to death. His brother passed
them, wherfore he was put vnto death incontinente in the same place. Wee
rede also how Cayme slewe his owne brother by enuye. Haue we not ensample
semblablye of Atreus, of whom his brother occupyed the parke, howe well
that they were in the realme stronge and puyssaunte, for to defende them?
It was Thesius[764] that expulsed his brother oute of the realme by enuy,
and was called agayne bycause that he had taken the parke, and fynally
was banyshed, and by enuye and vnder the colour of peace he was sent for.
And when hee was commen vnto a feast, he made his two children for to
be rested, and made theim[765] to drynke their bloude. O what horroure
was it to see his twoo children dye that were so dyscrete! In lykewise
Ethiocles by his brethren receyued great enormyties by that cursed Enuye.
O thou prudent man, if thou wilt be discrete, good, and wise, flye from
Enuy, and thou shalt finde thy selfe sounde of body and soule!
OF THE VOLUPTUOUSNES CORPORALL, THE THIRD FOOLE.
Ryghte heartely I beseche you, folysshe and lecherous people, that it
will please you for to come and make a litell collacion in this booke;
and if there be any thinge that I can do for you, I am all yours both
body and goodes; for truelye I haue an ardaunte desyre to doo you some
meditorious[766] dede, bicause that I haue euer frequented your seruyce.