The Ship of Fools, Volume 1-2 - Sebastian Brant (thriller books to read TXT) 📗

them that lyue rightwysly

Wherfore it is foly theyr babblynge to set by.]

 

Who that within this worlde wolde rest and lyue

In eas of mynde, peas and tranquyllyte

Must nat his mynde set, nor his erys gyue

To the vayne talys, of the rude comonte

And though some people of suche condicion be

Oft to dyffame good people true and Just

Let them nought care, for byde it nede they must

 

Let no man care for the lewde hyssynges

And yll soundynges of this vnhappy rage

It is great foly to set by the lesynges

Of cursyde tunges syns none can them asswage

For who in this worlde wyll come to auautage

Hym selfe exaltynge to worshyp and honoure

Shall fynde the swetnes mengled with the sowre

 

And he that wyll of his dygnyte be sure

Or sympyll lyuynge what so euer it be

Right greuous chargis somtymes must endure

And with his iyen often beholde and se

Suche thynges wherwith his mynde can not agre

And he that wyll with the worlde haue to do

Must suffer suche trouble as belongeth therto

 

Yet some haue pytched theyr tentis stedfastly

Upon sure grounde, auoyde of all this payne

Despysynge the worldes wantonnes and foly

For in the same is nought sure nor certayne

Nought se we tranquyll in these wawes mundayne

We se no loue, lawe, fydelyte, nor trust

But nowe up hye, and nowe lowe in the dust

 

To auoyde the worlde with his foly and stryfe

Many hath left londes townes and ryches

And yll company lyuynge solytary lyfe

Alone in desert and in wyldernes

Ye and that: men of moste wyt and worthynes

Whiche by that meane dyd best of all eschewe

All worldly sclaunder and lyuyd in vertue

 

He that intendeth to lyue a rightwyse lyfe

And so procedeth in maners and good dede

Of worldly sclaunder, complaynt, hatered, and stryfe

And all yll wyll, he ought nat to take hede

For he that is iuste ought no thynge for to drede

A sclaundrynge tonge, ye, be it neuer so wode

For suche lewde tonges can none hurte that ar gode.

 

Lyue well and wysely, than let men chat theyr fyll

Wordes ar but wynde, and though it oft so fall

That of lewde wordes comyth great hurte and yll

Yet byde the ende, that onely prouyth all

If thou canst suffer truste well that thou shall

Ouercome thyne ennemyes better by pacience

Than by hye wordes rygour or vyolence

 

If poetis that somtyme vyce blamyd and discommendyd

And holy Prophetis whiche also dyd the same

To suche vayne and mortall wordes had intendyd

They sholde nat haue durst the peoples vyce to blame

So sholde they haue lost their honour and good name

Theyr fame and meryt, but nowe they haue nat so

But spred theyr fame, whiche neuer away shall go

 

Forsoth none lyueth within the worlde wyde

Suche meke so holy, so wyse or pacyent

Whiche can hym selfe at euery tyme so gyde

To please eche fole, for none can some content

Forsoth he myght be named excellent

Happy and blessyd and lyue in welth and eas

Whiche euery man cowde serue content and pleas

 

But suche is none, and he that wyll assay

For to content eche folysshe mannes mynde

Must brake his slepe and stody nyght and day

And yet alway some fole shall be behynde

Ye if one lyue well, yet wyll they somwhat fynde

Behynde his backe hym to sclaunder and diffame

For beggers and bawdes therin haue all theyr game

 

For whether thou dwell in Est west north or south

Of suche dryuels euer shalt thou fynde plente

One must haue moche mele, to stoppe eche mannys mouth

Sclander is the cunnynge of all the comonte

And in the same suche ay moste besy be

Whiche lyue them selfe in shame and vylany

Euen nowe they speke repentynge by and by

 

Thus all the cunnynge and stody dilygent.

Of people vnthryfty is alway to despyse

And diffame other whiche ar but innocent

Wherfore let suche as ar discrete and wyse

Nought set by them that lesyngys doth deuyse

Nor theyr vayne foly: for he that doth certayne

Is but, a fole. and euer shall lyue in payne.

 

THE ENUOY OF BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

 

Trouble nat thy selfe (thou man) where is no nede

And arme thou thy selfe with goodly pacyence

Be sure it is great foly to take hede

Unto backbytynge syns that no resystence

May be founde to withstande his violence

And take thou this one thynge for thy comfort

That none wyse, or good, wyll commyt this offence

But all ar caytyffes, that ar of this lewde sort.

 

*

 

Of mockers, and scorners, and

false accusers.

 

[Illustration: Yet ar mo Folys whiche mocke and scorneth fast

Suche as them shewyth wysdome and doctryne

And at theyr hedes (vngoodly) stonys cast

In mynde disdaynynge to wysdome to enclyne

But gladly they ensue the discyplyne

Of folysshe mockers, let wyse men them eschewe

For no correccion can brynge them to vertue]

 

O Hertles folys, haste here to our doctryne

Leue of the wayes of your enormyte

Enforce you to my preceptis to enclyne

For here shall I shewe you good and veryte

Enclyne, and ye fynde shall great prosperyte

Ensuynge the doctryne of our faders olde

And godly lawes in valour worth great golde

 

Who that wyll folowe the graces manyfolde

Whiche ar in vertue, shall fynde auauncement

Wherfore ye folys that in your syn ar bolde

Ensue ye wysedome and leue your lewde intent

Wysdome is the way of men most excellent

Therfore haue done, and shortly spede your pace

To quaynt your selfe and company with grace.

 

Lerne what is vertue, therin is great solace

Lerne what is trouth sadnes and prudence

Let grutche be gone, and grauyte purchace

Forsake your foly and inconuenyence

Cesse to be folys, and ay to sue offence

Folowe ye vertue, chefe rote of godlynes

For it and wysdome is grounde of clenlynes

 

Wysedome and vertue two thynges ar doutles

Whiche man endueth with honour specyall

But suche hertis as slepe in folysshnes

Knoweth no thynge, and wyll nought knowe at all

But in this lytell barge in pryncypall

All folysshe mockers I purpos to repreue

Clawe he his backe that felyth ytche or greue

 

Mockers and scorners that ar harde of byleue

With a rugh combe here wyll I clawe and grate

To proue if they wyll from theyr vyce remeue

And leue theyr foly whiche causeth great debate

Suche caytyfs spare neyther pore man nor estate

And where theyr selfe ar moste worthy of dyrysion

Other men to scorne is all theyr moste condicion

 

Yet ar mo folys of this abusion

Whiche of wyse men despyseth the doctryne

With mowes, mockes, scorne, and collusyon

Rewardynge rebukes, for theyr good disciplyne

Shewe to suche wysdome, yet shall they nat enclyne

Unto the same, but set no thynge therby

But mocke thy doctryne, styll or openly

 

So in the worlde it apereth comonly

That who that wyll a Fole rebuke or blame

A mocke or mowe shall he haue by and by

Thus in derysyon, haue folys theyr speciall game

Correct a wyse man, that wolde eschewe yll name

And fayne wolde lerne, and his lewde lyfe amende

And to thy wordes he gladly shall intende

 

If by mysfortune a rightwyse man offende

He gladly suffreth a iuste correccion

And hym that hym techyth taketh for his frende

Hym selfe puttynge mekely vnto subieccion

Folowynge his preceptis and good dyreccion

But if that one a Fole rebuke or blame

He shall his techer, hate, sclaunder, and dyffame

 

Howbeit his wordes, oft turne to his owne shame

And his owne dartis retourne to hym agayne

And so is he sore woundyd with the same

And in wo endyth, great mysery and payne

It also prouyd full often is certayne

That they that on mockes alway theyr myndes cast

Shall of all other be mocked at the last

 

He that goeth right, stedfast sure and fast

May hym well mocke that goth haltynge and lame

And he that is whyte may well his scornes cast

Agaynst a man of ynde, but no man ought to blame

Anothers vyce whyle he vsyth the same

But who that of synne is clene in dede and thought

May hym well scorne whose lyuynge is starke nought

 

The scornes of Naball full dere sholde haue ben bought

If Abigayll his wyfe discrete and sage

Had nat by kyndnes right crafty meanes sought

The wrath of Dauyd to temper and asswage

Hath nat two berys in theyr fury and rage

Two and fourty Children rent and torne

For they the Prophete Helyseus dyd scorne

 

So myght they curse the tyme that they were borne

For theyr mockynge of this Prophete dyuyne

So many other of this sorte often mowrne

For theyr lewde mockes, and fall in to ruyne

Thus is it foly for wyse men to enclyne

To this lewde flocke of Folys for se thou shall

Them moste scornynge that ar most bad of all

 

THENUOY OF BARCLY TO THE FOLYS.

 

Ye mockynge Folys that in scorne set your ioy

Proudly dyspysynge goddes punycion

Take ye example by Cham the son of Noy

Whiche laughyd his Father vnto derysyon

Whiche hym, after, cursyd for his transgressyon

And made hym seruaunt to all his lyne and stocke

So shall ye Caytyfs at the conclusyon

Syns ye ar nought, and other scorne and mocke

 

*

 

Of them that dyspyse euerlastynge ioye,

and settyth thynges transytory before

thynges eternall and euerlastynge.

 

[Illustration: He is a foule that weyeth in one balaunce

The heuen and erth to knowe the heuyest

And by his foly and cursed ignoraunce

He thynketh that this wretchyd erth is best

And thoughe that here be neyther ioy nor rest

Yet had some leuer here styll to remayne

Than to depart to heuen voyde of al payne]

 

My hande is wery: fayne wolde I rest a space

But folys comyth to my shyp so besely

That to haue rest: they wyll graunt me no grace

That nede I must theyr lewdnes notefy

But to recorde this folysshe company

They ar suche that this worlde so greatly loue

That they despyse the heuenly Royalme aboue

 

They often thynke in theyr mynde preuely

And by them selfe in this wyse oft they say

O glorious lorde raynynge eternally

Graunt me thy grace that I may lyue alway

To se of this worlde the extreme ende and day

This is my wyll and synguler askynge

As for thy royalme, forsoth I set no thynge

 

But yet this fole doth nat desyre this tyme

Of so longe lyfe, and yeres alway newe

To clens his mynde from all synfull cryme

Nor for the loue of goodnes or vertue

But rather that he his pleasour may ensue

And with his maters and felawes suche as he

To folowe ryot, delytys and enormyte.

 

To lyue in wantonnes and blyndnes lascyuyte

In pryde in Lechery andin couetyse

Suche sytteth theyr myndes and theyr felycyte

Not ferynge hell whiche is rewarde of vyce.

Those dredefull dennys, in a right ferefull wyse

With fyres flamynge, and manyfolde tourment

Can nat suche folys, theyr synnes cause to stent

 

O sleuthfull fole say why doste nat thou call

Unto thy mynde that this worldes wretchydnes

Is full of sorowe moche more bytter than gall

Uoyde of all ioy, all pleasour and swetnes

Why settest thou so moche by frayle delyciousnes

On vayne pleasours, whiche shall sothly decay

Lyke as the sone meltyth the snowe away

 

Man note my wordes and gyue to