The Ship of Fools, Volume 1-2 - Sebastian Brant (thriller books to read TXT) 📗
- Author: Sebastian Brant
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Wherfore correct thy selfe whyle thou art here.
*
Of folysshe Fesycyans and vnlerned that
onely folowe paractyke knowynge nought
of the speculacyon of theyr faculte.
[Illustration: Who that assayeth the craft of medycyne
Agaynst the seke and paynfull pacyent
And hath no insyght cunnynge nor doctryne
To gyue the seke, helth and amendement
Suche is a fole, and of a mad intent
To take on hym by Phesyke any cure
Nat knowynge of man, nor herbe the right nature]
Yet be mo folys vpon the grounde and londe
Whiche in our Shyp may clayme a rowme and place
Suche be Phesycians that no thynge vnderstonde
Wandrynge about in euery towne and place
Uysytynge the seke whiche lyue in heuy case
But nought they relefe of those paynes harde
But gape alway after some great rewarde
Suche that haue practyse and nought of speculatyfe
Whan they go vysyte some paynfull pacyent
Whan they hym note sure to forgo his lyfe
Without all hope of any amendement
Yet say they other than is in theyr intent
That his diseas is no thynge incurable
So that the pacyent to hym be agreable
Sayth the Phesycyan whan he hath his rewarde
Abyde a whyle tyll I my bokes ouer se
Wherby I may relyue thy paynes harde
Than from the pacyent homewarde departyth he
To se his bokes but if the pacyent dye
In that meane space the medycyne is to late
So may he lay it to his owne folysshe pate
The speculacion sholde he before haue sene
For that in Phesyke is chefe and pryncypall,
Yet many ar that vse the craft I wene
Whiche of the cunnynge knowe lytell or nought at all
A herbe or wede that groweth vpon a wall
Beryth in it these folys medycyne.
None other bokes haue they nor doctryne
Nor none they rede to haue the true scyence
Or perfyte knowlege and grounde of medycyne
They rede no volumes of the experyence
Of Podalirius nor Mesues doctryne
Suche folys disdayne theyr myndes to enclyne
Unto the doctryne of bokes of Auycen
Of ypocras and parfyte galyen
But all the substance of theyr blynde faculte
They take in bokes that speke of herbes only
Without respect had to theyr properte
Or operacion so often they them aply
To fals doctrynes, but first and specyally
These olde wyues therwith wyll haue to do
Thoughe they nought knowe that doth belonge therto
They dare be bolde to take on them the cure
Of them diseasyd howe be it that they nat can
Suche thynge descerne as longyth to nature
What is for woman good, and what for man
So oft they ende moche wors than they began
That the pore pacyent is so brought to his graue
Yet dyuers suters suche folysshe wytches haue
Suche wytches boldly dare afferme and say
That with one herbe they hele can euery sore
Under euery syne plenete, houre and day
Yet besyde this they boldly dare say more
That it that helyth a man aged and hore
Shall helpe also a woman or a childe
Thus many thousandes oft ar by them begyled
They say also in this our charge or cure
What nedes it note the synes or fyrmament
The cause of thynges, or the strength of nature
Whether that the seke be stronge or impotent
They gyue one medesyn to euery pacyent
And if it fortune it be to colde or warme
The faythles wytche in hande goth with hir scharme
Say folysshe Surgyan by what experyence
Or whose Doctryne discyplyne or lore
Takest thou on the, nought knowynge of scyence
With one Salue or plaster, to heale euery sore
Yet so thou thynkest, I the compare therfore
Unto a lawyer that of his craft nought can
And yet presumeth to counsell euery man
A lawer and a Phesician ar both lyke
Of theyr condicion and both insue one trayne
The one begylyth the pacyent and seke
Takynge his god for to encreas his payne
The other labours and cauteles oft doth fayne
To clawe the coyne by craft from his clyent
Castynge hym of whan all his good is spent
Thus thryues the lawer by anothers good
Iniustly gotten, disceyuynge his clyent
Also some other ar callyd Phesicians good
Whiche vtterly disceyue the pacyent
If he haue money than hath he his intent
And if the seke haue store ynough to pay
Than shall the cure be dryuen from day to day
So if the lawer may any auauntage wyn
He shall the cause from terme to terme defarre
The playntyf for a player is holde in.
With the defendaunt kepynge open warre
So laweyers and Phesicians thousandes do marre
And whan they no more can of theyr suers haue
The playntyf beggyth, the seke is borne to graue
But of these lawyers bycause I spoke before
Of folysshe Phesicians here onely I intende.
Somwhat to say: And of lawers no more
On you Phesicians shall I conclude and ende
I say no man may hym so well defende
That he for murder may auoyde punysshement
Yet may Phesicians, sleynge the pacient
Thus thou that of Phesycian hast the name
If thou nought knowe of perfyte medycyne
It is forsoth to thy rebuke and shame
To boste the scyence: nat hauynge the doctryne
Therfore I counsell that thou thy mynde inclyne
To haue the cunnynge, els certaynly thou shall
Haue thy blynde craft and lyue a fole with all.
THE ENUOY OF THE TRASLATOUR.
Thou blynde Phesician that of thy craft nought can
Leue of thy lewdnes and bolde audacyte
To take on the: the cure of chylde or man
For by thy foly the wors myght they be
And ye that suerly perceyue your faculte
Be true therin, and auaryce from you cast
Shame is to brynge a man to pouertye
And than in paynes to leue hym at the last
*
Of the ende of worldly honour and power
and of Folys that trust therein.
[Illustration: On erth was neuer degre so excellent
Nor man so myghty: in ryches nor scyence
But at the ende all hath ben gone and spent
Agaynst the same no man can make defence
Deth all thynge drawyth, ferefull is his presence,
It is last ende of euery thynge mundayne
Thus mannys fortune of cours is vncertayne]
O creatures of myndes mad and blynde
I wonder of your hertis proude and eleuate
Whiche on vayne power set so sore your mynde
And trust so moche to your vnsure estate
As of your lyfe were neyther yere nor date
To worldly worshyp ye stedfastly intende
As if your lyfe sholde neuer more come to ende
Alway ye labour to come to dignyte
And oft by falshode your power to augment
Alas fewe ar content with theyr degre
But by extorcion spoyle the pore innocent
On worldly treasour so set is theyr intent
And styll to honour as besely to ascende
As if theyr lyfe sholde neuer more come to ende
Take thou example by Julius cesar
That of the worlde durynge a whyle was sure
And many kynges subduyd by myght of warre
And of the Empyre had lordshyp charge cure
But this his myght great space dyd nat endure
And whyle he trustyd yet hyer to ascende
By cruell deth he soon came to his ende
Right in lyke wyse the myghty Darius
Was kynge of Persy a realme moche excellent
Yet was his mynde so greatly couetus
That with the same helde he hym nat content
But warred on other Royalmes adiacent
So whan his myght coude nat therto extende
His owne Royalme he loste and so came to his ende
And also Xerxes in ryches abundant
Was longe in peas and great tranquyllyte
And in his Royalme was hye and tryumphant
As longe as he was content with his degre
Than had he pleasour and great felycyte.
To assay by warre his kyngdome to amende
But all he lost and so came to his ende
Whyle Nabugodonosor kynge of Babylone
In vnsure fortune set to great confydence
Commaundynge honour vnto hym to be done
As vnto god: with all humble reuerence,
God by his power and hye magnyfycence
Made hym a beste, for that he dyd offende
And so in proces of tyme came to his ende
Alexander the great and myghty conquerour
To whome all the worlde scantly myght suffyse
Of Grece was the origynall lorde and Emperour
And all the worlde subdued as I surmyse
Yet hath he done as is the comon gyse
Left all behynde, for nought coude hym defende
But as a symple man at the last came to his ende
The myghty Cresus with his kyngdomes and store
Of golde and ryches hym selfe coude nat content
But whyle he trustyd and laboured for more
Fortune hym fayled: So lost he his intent.
What shall I wryte of Cyrus excellent
Drynkynge his blode by deth whiche fortune sende
To here of states the comon deth and ende
All kyngdomes dekay and all estate mundayne
Example of Rome Cartago and Mycene
Of Solyme Tyre grace and Troy moste souerayne
None of these places ar nowe as they haue ben
Nor none other ouer the worlde as I wene
Thus shortly to speke and all to comprehende
All worldly thynges at last shall haue an ende.
THE ENOUY OF BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.
O man that hast thy trust and confydence
Fyxed on these frayle fantasyes mundayne
Remember at the ende there is no difference
Bytwene that man that lyued hath in payne
And hym that hath in welth and ioy souerayne
They both must dye their payne is of one sort
Both ryche and pore, no man can deth refrayne
For dethes dart expellyth all confort
Say where is Adam the fyrst progenytour
Of all mankynde is he nat dede and gone
And where is Abell of innocence the flour
With adamys other sonnes euerychone
A: dredfull deth of them hath left nat one
Where is Mathusalem, and Tuball that was playne
The first that played on Harpe or on Orgone
Ilz sont tous mortz ce monde est choce vayne
Where is iust Noy and his ofsprynge become
Where is Abraham and all his progeny
As Isaac and Jacob, no strength nor wysdome
Coude them ensure to lyue contynually
Where is kynge Dauyd whome god dyd magnyfy
And Salomon his son of wysdome souerayne
Where ar his sonnes of wysdome and beauty
Ilz sont toutz mortz ce monde est choce vayne.
Where ar the prynces and kynges of Babylon
And also of Jude and kynges of Israell
Where is the myghty and valiant Sampson
He had no place in this lyfe ay to dwell
Where ar the Prynces myghty and cruell
That rayned before Christ delyuered vs from payne
And from the Dongeons of darke and ferefull hell
Ilz sont toutz mortz ce monde est choce vayne.
Of worldly worsyp no man can hym assure
In this our age whiche is the last of all
No creature can here alway endure
Yonge nor olde, pore man nor kynge royall
Unstable fortune tourneth as doth a ball
And they that ones pas can nat retourne agayne
Wherfore I boldly dare speke in generall
We all shall dye: ce monde est choce vayne.
Ryches nor wysdome can none therfro defende
Ne in his strength no man can hym assure
Say where is Tully is he nat come to ende
Seneke the sage with Cato and Arture
The hye Arystotyll of godly wyt and pure
The glorious Godfray, and myghty Charlemayne
Thoughe of theyr
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