What meane ye gyders of Christis herytage

Shall ye neuer leue this your deuowrynge mynde

Shall ye no tyme your couytyse asswage

Whiche in goddes 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

If vnto any almyghty god doth sende

From heuen aboue by inspyracion dyuyne

Wyll and gode 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 space

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 god this grace doth sende

He is vnwyse whiche trustes the crowes songe

And that affermyth that he shall lyue so longe

Syns deth (as I haue sayde) is so vnstable

Wherfore we ought alway vs to prouyde

And mende our lyfe and synne abhomynable

For though that thou be hole at the euyn tyde

Thou knowest nat sure that thou shall here abyde

Untyll the morne but if thou dye in that space

It shall be to late for the to cry cras cras

Syns it is in thy power that thou may

Amende thy selfe whan god inspyreth the

Why shalt thou tary vnto another day

The longer tary the lesse apt shalt thou be.

In olde sores is grettest ieopardye

Whan costome and vse is tourned to nature

It is right harde to leue: I the ensure

Therfore if that thou lewdly fall in syn

By thy frayle flesshe, and the fals fendes trayne

Take nat the vse, contynue nat therin

But by confessyon shortly ryse agayne

Synne alway thretenyth vnto the doer, payne

And grutche of conscience with moche thought and wo

Yet alwaye ar we redy and prone therto

Mannys lyfe on erth is euyn a chyualry

Agaynst our flesshe fyghtyng whiche often doth vs shame

Also the deuyll our goostly ennemy

On his parte labours to get vs in his frame

Thus oft we fall, and than our foly blame

Repentynge sore, and wyllynge to refrayne

But within an houre we fall therto agayne

Thus euer to vyce ar we redy and prone

The gyftis of grace we clene from vs exclude

We haue great cause sore to complayne and mone

We leue that thynge (our myndes ar so rude)

That myght vs gyde to helth and beatytude

Thus our owne foly, and our owne blynde madnes

Us often ledyth vnto great wretchydnes

And if it fortune, that at any tyme

Within our myndes we purpose stedfastly

For to confesse our synne, excesse, or cryme

Agayne our thought is changyd by and by

Away than ren we with the crowys crye

With one cras, to morowe, perauenture twayne

Without regarde had, vnto infernall payne

But in the meane space if that deth vntretable

Arrest the with his mace, fyers and cruell

And for thy synne and lyfe abhomynable

By iustyce damme thy soule for euer to hell

Than woldest thou gladly (If thou myght) do well

But there is no grace but doloure payne and sorowe

Than is to late to crye cras cras to morowe

Say what delyte, thou fole or what pleasoure

Takest thou in synne and voluptuosyte

It is small sothly, and passeth euery houre

Lyke to the water, and that in myserye

Therfore set nat in synne thy felycyte

This day begyn thy lewde lyfe to refuse

Perchaunce to morowe sholde be to late to the

So sholde cras the crwys songe the sore abuse

Orestes was neuer so blynde and mad as is he

Whiche for his wyfe taketh thought and charge

Watchynge hir wayes, thoughe that she gyltles be

This fole styll fereth, if she be out at large

Lyst that some other his harnes sholde ouercharge

But for all his fere and carefull Jelowsy

If she be nought there is no remedy.

Thou fole I proue, thy watchynge helpeth nought

Thy labour lost is, thou takest this care in vayne

In vayne thou takest this Jelowsy and thought

In vayne thou sleest thy selfe with care and payne

And of one doute thou fole thou makest twayne

And neuer shalt fynde eas nor mery lyuynge

(Whyle thou thus lyuest) but hatered and chydynge

For locke hir fast and all hir lokes marke.

Note all hir steppys, and twynklynge of hir iye.

Ordeyne thy watchers and dogges for to barke

Bar fast thy dores and yet it wyll nat be

Close hir in a Toure with wallys stronge and hye

But yet thou fole thou lesist thy trauayle

For without she wyll no man can kepe hir tayle

And yet more ouer breche hir with plate and mayle

And for all that if she be nought of kynde

She shall disceyue the (If she lyst) without fayle

But if that she be chast of dede and mynde

Hir selfe shall she kepe, though thou hir neuer bynde

Thus they that ar chast of nature, wyll byde so

And nought wyll be nought what so euer thou do

Thus is it foly and causeth great debate

Bytwene man and wyfe, whan he by Jelowsy.

His wyfe suspectyth, and doth watche or counterwayt

Or hir mysdemyth and kepyth in stratly.

Wherfore me thynke it is best remedy

For hym that gladly wolde escape the hode

Nat to be Jelous: but honest lyuynge and gode

The toure of bras that callyd was darayne.

Coude nat the damsell (by name Danes) defende

But that Jupiter fonde a cautell and trayne

In a golden shoure into hir to discende

And to be short, at conclusyon and ende

This mayde for all this Toure was there defylyd.

And by this lorde was she there brought with childe

By this example it apereth euydent

That it is foly a woman to kepe or close

For if she be of lewde mynde or intent

Outher preuy or apert there about she goys

Deuysynge wayes with hir good man to glose

But specially if that he hir suspect

With a hode shall he vnwars be ouerdect

But in the worlde right many other be

Whiche neuer folowe this fals and lothly way

We haue example of one Penolope

Whiche though that she alone was many a day

Hir husbonde gone, and she vexed alway.

By other louers: yet was she euer trewe

Unto hir olde: and neuer changyd for newe

I fynde that often this folysshe Jelowsy

Of men; causyth some women to mysdo

Where as (were nat theyr husbondes blynde foly)

The pore wymen knowe nat what longyd therto

Wherfore suche men ar folys and mad also

And with theyr hodes whiche they them selfe purchace

Within my shyp shall haue a rowme and place

For where as perchaunce theyr wyfes ar chaste and goode

By mannys vnkyndnes they chaunge and turne theyr herte

So that the wyfe must nedes gyue them a hode

But to be playne some wymen ar esy to conuert

For if one take them where they can nat start.

What for theyr husbondes folysshe Jelowsy

And theyr owne pleasour: they scars can ought deny

Therfore ye wymen lyue wysly and eschewe

These wanton wowers and suche wylde company

Get you gode name by sadnes and vertue

Haunt no olde quenys that nourysshe rybawdry

Than fere ye nat your husbondes Jelowsy

If ye be fawtles, chaste and innocent

But wanton wowers ar ful of flatery

Euer whan they labour for their intent.

Be meke, demure, bocsome, and obedyent,

Gyue none occasyon to men by your foly

If one ought asshe, deny it incontynent

And euer after auoyde his company

Beware of cornes, do nat your erys aply

To pleasaunt wordes nor letters eloquent

If that Helena had so done certaynly

She had nat ven rauysshed by handes violent

O what disorder, what shame and what domage

Is nowe brought in, and right lykely to abyde

In the sacrament of holy mariage

The fere of payne and lawe is set a syde

Faythe is clene lost, and fewe them selfe do gyde

After theyr othe, but for lacke of punysshement.

They brake and despyse this dyuyne sacrament

Alas the lawe that Julius dyd ordeyne

Agaynst auoutry: is nowe a slepe or dede

None feryth iustyce punysshement nor payne

Both man and woman ar past all fere and drede

Theyr promes brekynge, without respect or hede

Had to theyr othe, by mariage solemnysed

The bed defylyd. the sacrament despysed

Many ar whiche thynke it is a thynge laudable

Anothers sponse to pullute and dyffame

And howe beit the synne is moche abhomynable

They fere nat god, nor dout nat worldly shame

But rather boldly they bost them of the same

They note no thynge the mortall punysshement

Taken on auoutrers in the olde testament

Yet is another thynge more lothsome and vyle

That many husbondes knowynge theyr wyues syn

Absent themselfe and stop theyr iyen the whyle

Kepynge the dore whyle the auoutrer is within

They forse no thynge so they may money wyn

Lyuynge as bawdes, and that to theyr owne wyues

O cursyd money, this madnes thou contryuys

O cursyd husbonde thou ought to be asshamyd

To set so great fors for syluer or for golde

That thou for them thy wyfe wyll se diffamyd

And helpe therto: ye: and the dede beholde

Blame it blynde dryuyll: by the lawe so thou sholde

And nat therat to gyggyll laghe and Jest

It is a lewde byrde that fyleth his owne nest

The Hystory of Atreus expressyth playne

Howe he (by his owne brother) for auoutry

Was dryuen from his royalme and his childre slayne

For his mysdede: without: let or remedy

These children thus bought theyr faders mad foly

What shall I wryte the wo and heuynes

Whiche Tarquyn had for rauysshynge lucres

I rede in the hystory of one Virginius

Whiche to thyntent this foule synne to eschewe

Whan his doughter was desyred by Clodius

And that by force; the fader his dowghter slewe

Bytwene the handes of Clodius vntrue

The fader answered (whan men his dede dyd blame)

Better is to dye chast: than longe to lyue in shame

But of auoutry somwhat more to speke

In it is yre Enuy and paynfull pouertye.

And also he or she that mariage doth breke

May fere of deth eternall whan they dye

And here without welth ioy and rest shall they be

And well ar they worthy (forsoth) of sore tourment

In hell: for brekynge this holy sacrament

But in the meane tyme here shalt thou haue discorde

And neuer prosper in vertue nor ryches

And lothsome be before the almyghty lorde

Thy dedes shall purchace mysfortune and distres

Thou lyue shalt in shame and dye in wretchydnes

And if thou procede therin and nat amende

Some great shame shalt thou haue before thyne ende.

O creatures vnkynde leue ye this outrage

Breke nat your othe whiche ye made solemly

Eche one to other for to lyue in mariage

Defyle ye it nat by synne and vylany

On both partis if ye lyue faythfully

After your promes: in loue, fayth and concorde

Than shall ye in erth encreas and multyply

And after haue syght of the almyghty lorde

Let all spousys in theyr myndes comprehende

The lawys and decrees of the olde testament

Howe they that in auoutry dyd offende

Were outher stonyd or els openly brent

Wherfore syns goddes son omnypotent.

Confermed hath the olde testament with the newe

Auoutrers nowe deserue that same punysshement

But well is to them, that stedfast ar and trewe

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 godlyest

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 Asses 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 passe 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: god 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 godly 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

Come nere, ye wrathfull men, take your rowme and place

Within our shyp, and to slake our hastynes

Mount on an Asse slowe of hir gate and pace

Syns troublous wrath, in you, styreth this madnes

Often lacke of myght asswagyth cruelnes

To a wylde cowe god doth short hornys 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 asswage

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 gode 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 Asse 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 passyon 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 aduysement

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 Asse hastely assende

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

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 asswage 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.

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 assay 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 god 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,

The hyllys ar hye, the valeys ar but lowe

In valeys is come the hyllys ar barayne

On hyest places most gras doth nat ay growe

A mery thynge is mesure and easy to sustayne

The hyest in great fere, the lowest lyue in payne

Yet better ly on grounde, hauynge no name at all

Than hye on a Clyf ferynge alway to fall

Thus as me thynke it is no thynge lawdable

On fortunes whele, for one to clym to hye

Syns the swyft cours therof is so vnstable

And all must we leue whan we depart and dye

Of our short lyfe haue we no certayntye

For lachesys (whan that thou hast lefte drede)

Of thy lyue dayes shall shortly breke the threde.

Atropos is egall to pore man and estate

Defar wyll nat deth by prayer ne request

No mortall man may his furour mytygate.

Nor of hym haue one day longer here to rest:

Content the with measure (therfore) for it is best

Coueyt nat to moche in honour to excell

It is a fowle fall to fall from erth to hell

Unstable fortune exalteth some a loft

To this intent, them to brynge to an yll ende

For who that hye clymmeth his fall can nat be soft

If that mysfortune constrayne hym to dyscende

Though Julius Cesar his lordshyp dyd extende

Ouer all the worlde: yet fortune at the last.

From lyfe and lordshyp hym wretchydly dyd cast

This hath ben sene, is sene, and euer shall

That most peryll is in hyest dignyte

Howe many estatis, howe many men Royall.

Hath fortune dryuyn downe into aduersyte

Rede dyuers cronycles, and thou shall playnly se

That many thousandes hath endyd in doloure

By theyr immoderate mynde to honoure

Ouer rede Bochas and than shalt thou se playne

The fall of prynces wryten ryght compendeously

There shalt thou se what punysshement and payne

Haue to them fallen, somtyme by theyr foly

And oft is moche preuy hatered and enuy

Had agaynst lordes of the rude comonte

Where euer they go: they lyue in ieopardye

Ay dowtynge deth by cursed gyle and treason

Eche thynge mysdemynge, ferynge to be opprest

By some mysfortune, with venym or with poyson.

Thus in great honour is neyther ioy nor rest

But thought and fere, ye whyle the lyfe doth lest

Thus who that procuryth great honour to attayne

Procuryth with all, enuy, peryll, fere and payne

A lorde or state whom many men doth drede

With loueles fere, and fayned countenaunce

Unto hym selfe ought wysely to take hede

And them to fere, if he wyll voyde myschaunce

For why a comonty is of suche ignoraunce

And so enuyous, that both erly and late

They muse to destroy hym whom, they fere and hate

A man promotyd vnto hye dygnyte

Shall haue loue shewyd hym by adulacion

But no true loue nouther faythfull amyte.

Good fame nor name, ne commendacion

Ye though he be worthy great exaltacion

Pytefull louynge and full of equyte

Yet harde is to please a folysshe comonte

Therfore me thynke of all thynge it is best

Man to be pleased and content with his degre

For why in mesure, is suerty eas and rest

And ay moste peryll in hyest dignyte

Fortune is full of changes and mutabylyte

Trust nat therto, therby comyth do gode

But nowe hye nowe lowe, vnstable as a flode

Labour nat man with to moche besy cure

To clymme to hye lyst thou by fortune fall

For certaynly, that man slepyth nat sure

That lyeth lows vpon a narowe wall

Better somtyme to serue, than for to gouerne all

For whan the Net is throwen into the se

The great fysshe ar taken and the pryncipall

Where as the small escapyth quyte and fre

He that is feble with sekenes outher wounde

Wherwith he feleth hym selfe so kept in payne

That dye he muste but if remedy be founde

He is a fole, if that he haue dysdayne

Of wyse Phesycyans: and medecines souerayne

And wyll nat sue theyr counsell and aduysement

Wherby he myght haue helth and short amendement

Thoughe the Phesycyan (of his lyfe) hym assure

So he be ruled, and vnto his mynde agre

The pacyent yet kepyth no dyete nor mesure

In mete nor drynke, and wyll nat gouerned be

But foloweth Ryot and all superfluyte

Receyuynge colde water in stede of ale or wyne

Agaynst read and counsell of crafty medycyne

What mete or drynke that is most contagious

And most infectyf to his sekenes or dyseas

And to hym forbyden, as moste contrarious

Unto his sekenes. That namely doth hym pleas

But that thynge that myght hym helpe and greatly eas

He hatyth moste, and wyll none receyue at all.

Tyll this small sore, at the last become mortall

Suche wyll no counsell ensue, nor mesure haue

Nor temper theym selfe in lesse nor yet in more.

Tyll theyr yll gouernaunce brynge them to theyr graue

Retournynge into grounde lyke as they were before

But who that soone wolde, be helyd of his sore

Whan it is newe ought to fynde remedy.

For in olde sorys is greatest ieopardy

A small sparcle often tyme doth augment

It selfe: and groweth to flames peryllous

Right so small wellys whiche semeth to be spent

With lytell sprynges and Ryuers, ofte so growys

Unto great waters, depe and ieopadous.

So a small sore augmentyth, styll preuely

By lytell and lytell for lacke of remedy

A small diseas whiche is ynoughe durable

At the begynnynge, for lacke of medycyne

At longe contynuaunce becomyth incurable

The paynfull pacyent bryngynge vnto ruyne

Wherfore who wyll to his owne helth enclyne

And soone be helyd of yll without all tary

To the Phesician ought nat to be contrary

Obstynat frowarde or inobedyent

Ought he nat be, but with a pacyent mynde

Shewe all his soris truly playne and euydent

To the Phesician if he wyll socour fynde.

And thoughe his saluys in paynes hym sore bynde.

Let nat for that, but after his wyll the gyde

Better a shorte payne, than that doth longe abyde

No sore can be releuyd without payne.

Forsake nat the short, the longe payne to eschewe

To the Phesycian we ought in worde be playne

And shewe hym our sore, whether it be olde or newe

For in thy wordes if that thou be nat trewe

Or kepe ought close, thou dysceyuest be thou sure

Thy selfe. and nat hym that of the hath the cure.

In lyke fourme who comyth vnto confessyon

There to declare howe he his lyfe hath spent

And shewyth nat his synne lyke wyse as he hath done

Hymself he disceyuyth, as blynde of his entent.

Thus many one endureth infernall tourment

With wo contynuall and payne for euermore

For kepynge secrete there, of his goostly sore.

Thus who that is payned in any malady

Bodely or gostly, ought nat to be callyd wyse

To the Phesycian without that he aply.

And his preceptis hant kepe and exercyse

But now olde wytches dare boldly interpryse

To intromyt to hele all infyrmyte

And many them byleue, whiche sothly is pyte

Suche wytches of theyr byleue abhomynable

On brest or hede of the paynfull pacyent

With theyr wytchecraftis shall compasse chat and bable

Assurynge hym of helth, and short amendement

Than he that is seke fyxith his intent

Upon hir errour: to haue helpe of his sore

But she hym leuyth wors than he was before

Poule the apostyll doth boldly say and preue

That they whiche to suche wytches wyll assent

Ar heretykes, Lolardes and false of theyr byleue

Brekynge goddes lawes and commaundement

And oft also by profe it apereth euydent

That suche as to wytches craftis wyll intende

By theyr fals Phesyke come soner to theyr ende

Theyr body dede, theyr soule in ieopardy

By mysbyleue for euer in paynes infernall.

Whiche ar rewarde for wretchyd synne and heresy

But if thou to thy mynde and reason call

And of this wrytynge perceyue the sence morall

Whan thou art fallen seke and in dedely syn

Seke helpe betyme, and byde nat longe therein

Thou man or woman, that lyest seke in vyce

To goddes vycayrs confesse thy syn holly

So shalt thou from thy goostly yll aryse.

For thy soule fyndynge helpe and remedy

Without leasynge shewe hym thy synne playnly

Let nat for shame nor fall nat thereto agayne

Better shewe thy sore there to one secretely

Than after openly: and byde eternall payne

Ensewe the counsell of a wyse confessour

Take nat colde water in stede of vermayll wyne:

For moche swetnes, endure thou a lytell soure

Kepe well the dyet and threfolde medicyne

Ordayned for synne by spirituall doctryne

That is confessyon, the next contrycyon.

With satisfaccion these thre, with grace deuyne

Ar salues parfyte for all transgressyon