This terryble gyant yet had a brother,

Whiche Graunde Amoure destroyed also,

Having foure heades more then the other,

That unto hym wrought mikel wo;

But he slewe sone his mortall foe,

Whiche was a great gyaunt with heades seven.

To marveylous nowe for me to neven.

Yet moreover he put to utteraunce

A venemous beast of sundry likenes,

Of divers beastes of ryght great mischaunce

Wherof the picture bare good wytnes;

For by his power and his hye worthynes

He did discomfyte the wonderous serpente

Of the seven metals, made by enchauntment.

And eke the clothe made demonstration

Howe he wedded the great lady beauteous,

La Bell Pucell, in her owne dominacion,

After his labour and passage daungerous,

With solemne joye and myrthe melodious.

This famous storye well pictured was

In the fayre hall upon the arras.

The marshall ycclipped was dame Reason,

And the yewres also Observaunce,

The panter Plesaunce at every season;

The good butler Curteis Continuaunce

And the chefe coke was called Temperaunce,

The lydy chamberlayne named Fidelitie,

And the hye stewarde Liberalitie.

There sate dame Doctrine, that lady gent,

Whiche called me unto her presence,

For to knowe al the whole entent

Of my comyng unto her excellence.

Madame, I sayde, to learn your science

I am comen nowe me to applye,

With all my cure and perfect study.

And yet, also, I unto her then shewed

My name and purpose wythout doublenes.

For very greate joye than were endued

Her crystall eyes full of lowlenes,

Whan that she knewe of very sykernesse,

That I was he that should so attayne

La Bell Pucell wyth my busy payne.

And after thys I had ryght good chere;

Of meate and drynke there was great plenty.

Nothynge I wanted, were it chepe or dere.

Thus was I served wyth dylycate dysshes deyntie;

And after thys wyth all humylite

I went to Doctryne, prayenge her good grace,

For to assygne me my fyrst lernynge place.

Seven doughters, moost expert in connynge,

Wythouten foly she had well engendred;

As the seven Scyences in vertue so shynynge,

At whose encreace there is great thankes rendred

Unto the mother, as nothynge surrendred

Her good name and her dulcet sounde,

Whych did engendre theyr orygynall grounde.

And fyrst to Grammer she forthe me sent,

To whose request I dyd well obay;

Wyth delygence forth on my way I went,

Up to a chamber depaynted fayre and gay;

And at the chambre in ryght ryche araye

We were let in, by hygh auctoryte

Of the ryght noble dame Congruyte.

The lady Gramer, in all humbly wyse,

Dyd me receyve into her goodly scoole;

To whose doctrine I dyd me advertise

For to attayne, in her artyke poole,

Her gylted dewe, for to oppresse my doole;

To whom I sayde that I wold gladly lerne

Her noble connynge, so that I myght descerne

What that it is, and why that it was made?

To whych she answered than, in speciall,

By cause that connynge shoulde not pale ne fade,

Of every scyence it is originall,

Whych doth us tech ever in generall

In all good ordre to speke directly,

And for to wryte by true ortografy.

Somtyme in Egypt reygned a noble kyng,

Iclyped Evander, whych dyd well abounde

In many vertues, especially in lernyng;

Whych had a doughter, that by her study found

To wryte true Latyn the fyrst parfyt ground.

Whose goodly name, as her story sayes,

Was called Carmentis in her livyng dayes.

Thus in the tyme of olde antiquytie,

The noble phylosophers, wyth theyr whole delyghte,

For the comon prouffyte of all humanite,

Of the seven sciences for to knowe the ryght,

They studied many a long wynters nyght,

Eche after other theyr partes to expresse,

Thys was theyr guyse to eschewe ydelnesse.

The pomped carkes wyth foode dilicious

They dyd not feed, but to theyr sustinaunce;

They folowed not theyr fleshe so vycious,

But ruled it by prudent governaunce;

They were content alway wyth suffisaunce,

They coveyted not no worldly treasure,

For they knewe that it myght not endure.

But nowe a dayes the contrary is used:

To wynne the mony theyr studyes be all set.

The commen profyt is often refused,

For well is he that may the money get

From his neyghbour wythout any let.

They thynke nothynge they shall from it pas,

Whan all that is shall be tourned to was.

The bryttel fleshe, nourisher of vyces,

Under the shadowe of evyll slogardy,

Must need haunte the carnall delices;

Whan that the brayne, by corrupt glotony,

Up so downe is tourned than contrary.

Frayle is the bodye to grete unhappynes,

Whan that the head is full of dronkennes.

So doo they now; for they nothyng prepence

Howe cruell deth doth them sore ensue.

They are so blynded in worldly necligence,

That to theyr merite they wyll nothyng renewe

The seven scyences, theyr slouth to eschewe;

To an others profyt they take now no keepe,

But to theyr owne, for to eate, drynke, and sleepe.

And all thys dame Gramer told me every dele,

To whom I herkened wyth all my diligence;

And after thys she taught me ryght well

Fyrst my Donet and then my accidence.

I set my mynde wyth percyng influence

To lerne her scyence, the fyrst famous arte,

Eschewyng ydlenes and layeng all aparte.

Madame, quod I, for as much as there be

Eight partes of speche, I would knowe ryght fayne,

What a noune substantive is in hys degre,

And wherefore it is so called certayne?

To whom she answered ryght gentely agayne,

Sayeng alway that a nowne substantyve

Might stand wythout helpe of an adjectyve.

The Latyn worde whyche that is referred

Unto a thynge whych is subtancyall,

For a nowne substantyve is wel averred,

And wyth a gender is declynall;

So all the eyght partes in generall

Are Laten wordes, annexed properly

To every speche, for to speke formally.

And gramer is the fyrst foundement

Of every science to have construccyon:

Who knewe gramer wythout impediment

Shoulde perfytely have intelleccion

Of a lytterall cense and moralyzacion.

To construe every thynge ententifly,

The worde is gramer wel and ordinatly.

By worde the world was made orygynally,

The hye Kynge sayde, it was made incontinent;

He dyd commaunde, al was made shortly.

To the world the worde is sentencious judgemente.

I marked well dame Gramers sentement,

And of her than I dyd take my lycence,

Goynge to Logyke wyth all my dylygence.

So up I went unto a chambre bryghte,

Where was wonte to be a ryght fayre lady,

Before whome than, it was my hole delyght,

I kneeled adowne ful well and mekely,

Besechynge her to enstructe me shortely

In her noble science, which is expedient

For man to knowe in many an argument.

You shall, quod she, my scyence wel lerne,

In tyme and space, to your gret utilite;

So that in lokynge you shal than decerne

A frende from fo, and good from iniquyte:

Ryght from wronge ye shall know in certainte.

My scyence is all the yll to eschewe,

And for to knowe the false from the trewe.

Who wyll take payne to folowe the trace,

In this wrecched world, of trouth and ryghtwysenes,

In heven above he shal have dwellynge place.

And who that walketh the waye of derkenes,

Spendyng his tyme in worldly wretchednes,

Amyddes the erth, in hel most horrible,

He shall have payne nothyng extinguyssible.

So by logyke is good perceyveraunce

To devyde the good and the evyll asondre:

It is alwaye at mannes pleasaunce

To take the good and caste the evyll under.

If God made hell, it is thereof no wonder,

For to punyshe man that hadde intelligence,

To knowe goode from yll by trewe experience.

Logyke alwaye doth make probacion,

Provyng the pro well from the contrary,

In sondry wyse by argumentacion,

Grounded on reason well and wonderly.

Who understod all Logyke truely,

Nothynge by reason myght be in pledynge,

But he the trouth should have in knowlegyng.

Her wyse doctryne I marked in memory,

And toke my leve of her hye person,

Because that I myght no lenger tary.

The yere was spent, and so ferre than gon,

And of my lady yet syght had I none,

Whych was abydyng in the toure of Musyke:

Wherfore anone I went to Rethoryke.

Than above Logyke up we went a stayre,

Into a chambre gayly glorified,

Strowed wyth floures of all goodly ayre;

Where sate a lady gretly magnified,

And her true vesture clerely purified,

And over her head, that was bryght and shene,

She had a garlande of the laurell grene.

Her goodly chambre was set all about

With depured myrrours of speculacion;

The fragraunt fumes dyd well encense out

All misty vapours of perturbacion.

More lyker was her habitacyon

Unto a place which is celestiall,

Than to a certayne mancion fatall.

Before whom, than, I dyd knele adowne,

Sayeng: O sterre of famous eloquence,

O gylted goddesse of hyghe renowne,

Enspyred wyth the hevenly influence

Of the doulcet well of complacence,

Upon my mynd, wyth dewe aromatyke,

Distyll adowne thy lusty rethoryke.

And depaynt my tong wyth thy ryall floures

Of delicate odoures, that I may ensue

In my purpose to glad myne audytours,

And wyth thy power that thou me endue

To moralise thy lytterall censes trewe,

And clense away the myst of ygnoraunce

With depured beames of goodly ordinaunce.

With humble eres of perfyt audience,

To my request she dyd than enclyne;

Sayeng she wolde in her goodly scyence

In short space me so well indoctryne,

That my dull mynde it shoulde enlumyne

With golden beames, for ever to oppresse

My rude language and all my semplenesse.

I thanked her of her great gentylnes,

And axed her, after, this question:

Madame, I sayde, I wolde knowe doubtles

What rethoryke is, without abusion.

Rethoryke, she sayde, was founde by reason,

Man for to governe wel and prudently;

His wordes to ordre, his speche to purify.

Fyve partes hath Rethoryke, for to werke trewe,

Without whiche fyve there can be no sentence.

For these fyve do well evermore renue

The matter parfyte with good intellygence.

Who that will se them with all his dyligence,

Here foloweng I shall them specify,

Accordyng well all unto myne ordynary.

The fyrste of them is called Invencion,

Whiche surdeth of the most noble werke

Of v. inward wittes with hole affeccion,

As writeth right many a noble-clerke,

Wyth mysty colour of cloudes derke,

How comyn wytte doothe full well electe

What it shoulde take, and what it shall abjecte.

And secondly, by ymaginacyon

To drawe a matter full facundious,

Full mervaylus is the operacion,

To make of nought, reason sentencious,

Clokynge a trouthe wyth colour tenebrous;

For often under a fayre fayned fable

A trouthe appereth gretely profitable.

It was the guyse in old antiquyte,

Of famous poets ryght ymaginatife,

Fables to fayne by good auctorite;

They were so wyse and so inventife,

Theyr obscure reason, fayre and sugratife,

Pronounced trouthe under cloudy figures,

By the inventyon of theyr fatall scriptures.

And thyrdly, they hadde suche a fantasy,

In this hyghe arte to be intelligible,

Theyr fame encresynge evermore truely,

To slouth ever they were invincible:

To theyr wofull hertes was nought impossible;

Wyth brennynge love of insaciate fyre

Newe thynges to fynde they set theyr desyre.

For though a man of his proper mynde

Be inventife, and he do not apply

His fantasye unto the besy kynde,

Of hys connynge it maye not ratifye;

For fantasye must nedes exemplify

Hys new invencion, and cause hym to entende

Wyth hole desyre to brynge it to an ende.

And fourtely, by good estimacion

He must nombre al the hole cyrcumstaunce

Of thys mater wyth brevyacion,

That he walke not by longe continaunce

The perambulat waye, full of all variaunce.

By estimacion is made annunciate

Whether the mater be long or brevyate.

For to invention it is equipolent,

The mater founde ryght well to comprehende

In suche a space as is convenient;

For properly it doth ever pretende

Of all the purpose the length to extende:

So estimacion maye ryght well conclude

The parfyte nombre of every similitude.

And yet, than, the retentyfe memory,

Whyche is the fifte, must ever agregate

All maters thought to retayne inwardly,

Tyll reason therof hath made a brobate,

And by scripture wyll make demonstrate

Outwardly accordynge to the thought,

To prove a reason upon a thyng of nought.

Thus, whan the fourth hath wrought full wonderly,

Then must the mynde werke upon them all,

By cours ingenious to rynne dyrectly

After theyr thoughtes, than in generall

The mynde must cause them to be memoriall;

As after this shall appere more openly,

All hole exprest by dame Phylosophy.

O thrust of vertue and of ryall pleasure

Of famous poetes many yeres ago!

O insaciate covetyse of the speciall treasure

Of new invencion, of ydelnes the foo!

We may you laude, and often prayse also,

And specially for worthy causes thre,

Whiche to thys daye we may both here and se.

As to the fyrst, your hole desyre was set

Fables to fayne to eschewe ydlenes,

Wyth amplyacion more connyng to get,

By the laboure of inventyfe busynes,

Touchynge the trouthe by covert lykenes

To dysnull vyce and the vycious to blame;

Your dedes therto exemplifyde the same.

And secondly, ryght well you dyd endyte

Of the worthy actes of many a conquerour;

Through whych labour that you dyd so wryte

Unto this day reygneth the honour

Of every noble and myghty warriour,

And for your labour and your busy payne

Your fame yet lyveth, and shall endure certayne.

And eke to prayse you we are gretely bounde,

Because our connyng from you so procedeth,

For you therof were fyrst originall ground,

And upon your scripture our science ensueth.

Your splendent verses our lyghtnes renueth;

And so we ought to laude and magnify

Your excellent springes of famous poetry.

But rude people, opprest with blyndnes,

Agaynst your fables wyll often solisgyse,

Suche is theyr mynde, such is theyr folyshnes;

For they beleve in no maner of wyse

That under a colour a trouth may aryse.

For folysh people, blynded in a matter,

Will often erre whan they of it do clatter.

O all ye cursed and such evyll fooes,

Whose syghtes be blynded over all wyth foly,

Open your eyes in the pleasaunt schooles

Of perfit connyng, or that you reply

Agaynst fables for to be contrary;

For lacke of connyng no mervayle though you erre,

In suche science, whych is from you so fer.

For now the people, whych is dull and rude,

If that you rede a fatall scripture,

And can not moralyse the semilitude

Whych to theyr wyttes is so hard and obscure,

Than wyll they say that it is sene in ure

That nought do poetes but depaynt and lye,

Deceyvyng them by tongues of flatery.

But what for that? they can not defame

The poetes actes, whych are in effecte;

Unto them selfe remayneth the shame

To dysprayse that whych they can not correcte;

And yf that they had in it inspecte,

Than they would it prayse, and often elevate

For it should be to them so delicate.

The second parte of crafty Rethoryke

Maye well be called Disposicion,

That doth so hyghe mater aromatyke

Adowne dystyll by consolacion;

As olde poetes make demonstracion

That Mercury, through his preeminence,

Hys natives endeth wyth famous eloquence.

By veray reason it maye ryght well appere,

That divers persons in sundry wyse delyght;

Theyr consolacions doth contrary so steere

That many myndes maye not agree aryght.

Such is the planettes of theyr course and myght.

But what for that? be it good or yll,

Them for to folowe it is at mannes fre wyl.

And dysposicion, the true seconde parte

Of rethorike, doth evermore dyrecte

The maters founde of this noble arte,

Gyvyng them place after the aspect,

And of tyme it hath the inspect,

As from a fayre parfit narracion,

Or els by stedfast argumentacion.

The whych was constitute by begynnyng,

As on the reason, and if apparaunce

Of the cause than by outwarde semyng

Be hard and difficulte in the utteraunce,

So as the mynde have no perceyveraunce,

Nor of the beginnyng can have audience,

Than must narracion begynne the sentence.

And if it be a lytle probable,

From any maner stedfast argument,

We ordre it for to be ryght stable,

And than we never begyn our sentement,

Recityng letters not convenient,

But thys commutacion shoulde be refused,

Wythout cause or thynge make it be used.

Thys that I wryte is harde and covert

To them that have nothynge intelligence;

Up so downe they make oft transvert,

Or that they can knowe, they experience

Of thys craft and facundious science,

By dysposicion the rethorician

To make lawes ordinatly began.

Wythout disposicion none ordre gan be,

For the disposicion ordreth every matter,

And gyveth the place after the degre:

Wythout ordre, wythout reason we clatter,

Where is no reason it vayleth not to chatter.

Disposicion ordreth a tale directly,

In a perfit reason, to conclude truely.

The fatall problemes of olde antiquyte,

Cloked wyth myst and wyth cloudes derke,

Ordred wyth reason and hye auctorite,

The trouth dyd shewe of all theyr covert werke.

Thus have they made many a noble clerke.

To dysnull myschefe and inconvenyence,

They made our lawes wyth grete diligence.

Before the lawe, in a tumblyng barge

The people sayled, wythout parfitnes,

Throughe the worlde all about at large;

They hadde none ordre nor no stedfastnes,

Tyll rethoricians founde justyce doubtles,

Ordeynyng kynges, of ryght hye dygnite,

Of all comyns to have the soverainte;

The barge to stere, wyth lawe and justice,

Over the waves of thys lyfe transitory,

To direct wronges, and also prejudice.

And tho that wyl resyst a contrarye

Agaynst theyr kynge, by justice openly,

For theyr rebellion and evyll treason,

Shall suffer death by ryght and reason.

O what laude, glory, and greate honoure,

Unto these poetes shall be notefyed,

The whiche dystylled aromatyke lycoure

Clensynge our syght wyth ordre puryfyed;

Whose famous draughtes so exemplyfyed

Set us in ordre, grace, and governaunce,

To lyve dyrectly, without encombraunce.

But many one, the whiche is rude and dull,

Wyll dyspice theyr warke for lacke of connynge:

All in vaine they do so hayle and pull,

Whan they therof lacke understandinge,

They grope over where is no felynge;

So dull they are, that they can not fynde

This ryall arte for to perceyve in mynde.

And than the iii. parte is Elocusyon,

Whan Invencion hath the purpose wrought,

And set it in ordre by Disposicion.

Without this thyrde parte it vayleth ryght nought,

Though it be founde and in ordre brought,

Yet Elocusion with the powre of Mercury,

The mater exorneth right well facundyously

In fewe wordes, swete and sentencious,

Depaynted with golde harde in construction,

To the artyke eres swete and dylycious

The golden rethoryke is good refeccion,

And to the reder ryght consolacion;

As we do golde frome copper purifye

So that Elocucyon doth ryght well claryfy.

The dulcet speche from the langage rude,

Tellynge the tale in termes eloquent,

The barbary tongue it doth ferre exclude,

Electynge wordes whiche are expedyent,

In Latyn or in Englyshe, after the entent

Encensyng out the aromatyke fume,

Our langage rude to exyle and consume.

But what avayleth evermore to sowe

The precyous stones amonge gruntynge hogges?

Draffe unto them is more meter I trowe.

Let an hare and swyne be amonge curre dogges;

Though to the hares were tyed grete clogges,

The gentyll beast they wyll regarde nothyng,

But to the swyne take course of rennyng.

To cloke the sentence under mysty figures,

By many colours as I make relacyon,

As the olde poetes covered theyr scryptures,

Of which the fyrste is dystrybucyon;

That to the evyll, for theyr abusyon,

Doth gyve payne, and, to the worthy,

Laude and prayse, them for to magnyfy.

Of beste or byrd they take a symylytude

Of the condycyon lyke to the party,

Feble, fayre, or yet of fortytude;

And under colour of this beste, pryvely

The morall sense they cloke full subtyly,

In prayse or dysprayse, as it is reasonable:

Of whose faynyng fyrst rose the fable.

Concludyng reason gretely profitable;

Who that theyr fables can well moralyse,

The fruytfull sentences are delectable,

Though that the ficcion they doo so devyse

Under the colour the trouth doth aryse,

Concludyng reason, rychesse, and connyng,

Pleasure, example, and also lernyng.

They fayned no fable without reason,

For reasonable is al theyr moralitie,

And upon reason was theyr conclusion,

That the comon wyt, by possibilitie,

Maye well a judge the perfyt veritie

Of theyr sentence for reason openly

To the comon wyt it doth so notify.

Theyr fruitfull sentence was grete rychesse,

The whych ryght surely they myght well domyne,

For lordshyp, welth, and also noblesse,

The chaunce of fortune can some determyne.

But what for this? she can not declyne

The noble science, whiche, after poverte,

Maye bryng a man agayne to dignitie.

Theyr sentence is connyng, as appereth well,

For by conning theyr arte doth engendre,

And wythout connyng we knowe never a dele,

Of theyr sentence, but may sone surrendre

A true tale, that myght to us rendre

Grete pleasure, if we were intelligible

Of theyr connyng nothyng impossible.

O what pleasure to the intelligent

It is to knowe and have perceyveraunce

Of theyr connyng, so much expedient,

And therof to have good utteraunce!

Redyng newe thynges of so grete pleasaunce,

Fedyng the mynd wyth foode insaciate,

The tales newe they are so delicate.

In an example, with a mysty cloud

Of covert lykenesse, the poetes do wryte;

And underneth the trouth doth so shroude,

Both good and yll, as they lyst acquyte,

With similitude they dyd so well endyte,

As I here after shall the trouth sone shew,

Of all theyr mysty and theyr fatall dewe.

The poetes fayne how that kyng Athlas

Heaven should bere upon his shoulders hye;

Because in connyng he dyd all other pas,

Especially in the hygh astronomye:

Of the vi. planettes he knewe so perfytly

The operacions, how they were domified;

For whych poetes hym so exemplyfied.

And in lyke wyse, unto the Sagittary

They feyne the Centures to be of lykenesse,

As halfe man and halfe horse truely;

Because Mylyzyus wyth hys worthynesse

Dyd fyrst attame and breke the wyldenes

Of the riall stedes, and ryght swyftly

Hys men and he rode on them surely.

And also Pluto, somtyme kynge of hell;

A cyte of Grece, standyng in Thessayle,

Betwene grete rockes, as the boke doth tell,

Wherin were people wythout any fayle,

Huge, fyerse, and strong in battayle,

Tyrauntes, theves, replete with treason;

Wherfore poetes, by true comparison,

Unto the devylles, blacke and tedious,

Dyd them resemble, in terrible fygure,

For theyr mysselyvyng so foule and vycyous,

As to thys daye it doth appere in ure

Of Cerebus the defloured pycture,

The porter of hell, wyth thre heades ugly,

Lyke an horrible gyaunt fyrce and wonderly:

Because alway hys customed tyranny

Was elevate in herte by hygh presumpcion,

Thynkyng hym selfe most strong and myghty;

And secondly, he was destruction

Of many ladies by yll compulcion;

And thyrdly, his desyre insaciable

Was to get ryches full innumerable.

Thus, for these thre vyces abhominable

They made hym wyth thre hedes serpentyne,

And like a feend his body semblable,

For his pryde, avaryce, and also rapyne.

The morall cense can soone enlumyne

The fatall pycture to be exuberaunt,

And to our syght clere, and not variaunte.

Also rehersed the cronicles of Spayne,

How redoubted Hercules by puyssaunce

Fought with an ydre, ryght grete certayne,

Having seven heades of full grete myschaunce;

For whan that he wyth all hys valiaunce

Had stryken of an head, ryght shortly,

Another anon arose ryght sodaynly.

Seven sophyms full hard and fallacyous

Thys ydre used in preposicion

Unto the people, and was full rigorious

To devoure them, where lacked responsion;

And whan one reason had conclusion,

Another reason than incontinent

Began agayne wyth subtyll argument.

For whych cause the poetes covertly

With vii. heades doth thys ydre depaynt,

For these vii. sophyms full ryght closely;

But of rude people the wyttes are so faynt,

That wyth theyr connyng they can not acquaynt,

But who that lyst theyr scyence to lerne,

Their obscure fygures he shall well decerne.

O redolent well of famous poetry,

O clere fountayne replete wyth swetenes,

Reflerynge out the dulcet delicacy

Of iiii. ryvers in mervaylous wydenesse,

Fayrer than Tygrys or yet Eufrates;

For the fyrst ryver is Understandyng;

The seconde ryver Close-concluding;

The thyrd ryver is called Novelry;

The fourth ryver is called Carbuncles,

Amyddes of whom the toure is so goodly

Of Vyrgyll standeth, most solacious,

Where he is entered in stones precious;

By thys fayre toure, in a goodly grene,

Thys well doth spryng both bryght and sheen.

To understandyng these iiii. accident:

Doctryne, perceyveraunce, and exercyse,

And also therto is equypolent

Evermore the perfyt practyse,

For fyrst doctryne in all goodly wyse

The perceyveraunt trowthe in hys bote of wyll

In understandyng for to knowe good from yll.

So famous poetes did us endoctrine

Of the ryght way for to be intellectyfe;

Theyr fables they dyd ryght so ymagyne,

That by example we may voyde the stryfe,

And wythout myschefe for to lede our lyfe,

By the advertence of theyr storyes olde,

The fruit wherof we may full well beholde

Depaynted on aras, how in antiquitie,

Dystroyed was the grete citie of Troye,

For a lytell cause, grounded on vanitie,

To mortall ruyn they tourned theyr joye.

Theyr understandyng they dyd than occupy,

Nothyng prepensyng how they dyd prepare

To scourge them selfe and bryng them in a snare.

Who is opprest with a lytell wrong,

Revengyng it he may it soone encrease;

For better it is for to suffer among

An injury, as for to keepe the peace,

Than to begyne whych he shall never cease.

Warre ones begon, it is hard to know

Who shall abyde and who shall overthrowe.

The hygh power, honour, and noblenes,

Of the myghty Romaynes, to whose excellence

All the wyde worlde so muche of gretenes

Unto theyr empyre was in obedience,

Suche was theyr famous porte and preemynence,

Tyll within themselfe there was a contraversy

Makyng them lese theyr worthy sygneoury.

It is ever the grounde of sapience,

Before that thou accomplysh outwardly,

For to revolve understandyng and prepence

All in thy selfe full often inwardly,

The begynnyng and the myddle certaynly

Wyth the ende, or thou put it in ure,

And werke wyth councell that thou mayst be sure.

And who that so doth shall never repent,

For his dede is founded on a perfyt grounde,

And for to fall it hath none impediment,

Wyth surenes it is so hygh-walled rounde.

In welth and ryches it must needes habound,

On every syde it hath suche ordinaunce

That nothynge can do it anoyaunce.

Thus the poetes conclude full closely

Their fruitfull problemes for reformacion,

To make us lerne to lyve directly,

Theyr good entent and true construccion,

Shewyng to us the whole affeccion

Of the way of vertue, welth, and stablenes,

And to shut the gate of myschevous entres.

And evermore they are ymaginatyfe,

Tales newe from daye to daye to fayne,

The erryng people, that are retractif,

As to the ryght way to bryng them agayne:

And who that lyst their sentence retayne,

It shall hym prouffyt yf he wyll apply

To doo therafter ful conveniently.

Carbuncles in the most derke nyght

Dothe shyne fayre wyth clere radiant beames,

Exylyng derkenes wyth his rayes lyght;

And so these poetes, with theyr golden streames,

Devoyde our rudenes wyth grete fyry lemes;

Theyr centencious verses are refulgent

Encensyng out the odour redolent.

And is theyr worke also extynguyshible?

Nay, truely, for it doth shyne ryght cleere

Thrugh cloudes derke unto the odyble,

To whom truely it may nothyng appeere

Where connyng fayleth, the scyence so deere

Ignoraunce hateth wyth fervent envy,

And unto connyng is mortall ennemy.

O ygnoraunce, wyth slouth so opprest,

Open thy curtayne, so ryght dymme and derke,

And evermore remembre the behest

Of thy labour to understande thy werke,

Of many a noble and ryght famous clerke.

Fy upon slouth, the nourysher of vyce,

Whych unto youth doth often prejudice.

Who in youth lyst nothyng to lerne,

He wyl repent hym often in hys age,

That he the connynge can nothynge decerne;

Therfore now youth, with lusty courage,

Rule thy fleshe and thy slouth aswage,

And in thy youth the scyence engender

That in thyne age it may the worship render.

Connyng is lyght and also pleasaunt,

A gentyll burden wythout grevousnes,

Unto hym that is ryght well applyaunt

For to bere it wyth al his besenes;

He shal attaste the well of frutefulnes,

Which Vyrgyl claryfied, and also Tullyus,

Wyth Latyn pure, swete, and delicyous.