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

English literature, but they are in themselves most

interesting and valuable as faithful and graphic pictures of the court,

citizen, and country life of the period. Nowhere else in so accessible a

form do there exist descriptions at once so full and so accurate of the

whole condition of the people. Their daily life and habits, customs,

manners, sports, and pastimes, are all placed on the canvas before us with

a ready, vigorous, unflinching hand. Witness for instance the following

sketch, which might be entitled, “Life, temp. 1514”:—

 

“Some men deliteth beholding men to fight,

Or goodly knightes in pleasaunt apparayle,

Or sturdie souldiers in bright harnes and male.

… … . .

Some glad is to see these Ladies beauteous,

Goodly appoynted in clothing sumpteous:

A number of people appoynted in like wise:

In costly clothing after the newest gise,

Sportes, disgising, fayre coursers mount and praunce,

Or goodly ladies and knightes sing and daunce:

To see fayre houses and curious picture(s),

Or pleasaunt hanging, or sumpteous vesture

Of silke, of purpure, or golde moste orient,

And other clothing diuers and excellent:

Hye curious buildinges or palaces royall,

Or chapels, temples fayre and substanciall,

Images grauen or vaultes curious;

Gardeyns and medowes, or place delicious,

Forestes and parkes well furnished with dere,

Colde pleasaunt streames or welles fayre and clere,

Curious cundites or shadowie mountaynes,

Swete pleasaunt valleys, laundes or playnes

Houndes, and suche other thinges manyfolde

Some men take pleasour and solace to beholde.”

 

The following selections illustrative of the customs and manners of the

times will serve as a sample of the overflowing cask from which they are

taken. The condition of the country people is clearly enough indicated in a

description of the village Sunday, the manner of its celebration being

depicted in language calculated to make a modern sabbatarian’s hair stand

on end:—

 

“What man is faultlesse, remember the village,

Howe men vplondish on holy dayes rage.

Nought can them tame, they be a beastly sort,

In sweate and labour hauing most chiefe comfort,

On the holy day assoone as morne is past,

When all men resteth while all the day doth last,

They drinke, they banket, they reuell and they iest

They leape, they daunce, despising ease and rest.

If they once heare a bagpipe or a drone,

Anone to the elme or oke they be gone.

There vse they to daunce, to gambolde and to rage

Such is the custome and vse of the village.

When the ground resteth from rake, plough and wheles,

Then moste they it trouble with burthen of their heles:

 

FAUSTUS.

 

To Bacchus they banket, no feast is festiuall,

They chide and they chat, they vary and they brall,

They rayle and they route, they reuell and they crye,

Laughing and leaping, and making cuppes drye.

What, stint thou thy chat, these wordes I defye,

It is to a vilayne rebuke and vilany.

Such rurall solace so plainly for to blame,

Thy wordes sound to thy rebuke and shame.”

 

Football is described in a lively picture:—

 

“They get the bladder and blowe it great and thin,

With many beanes or peason put within,

It ratleth, soundeth, and shineth clere and fayre,

While it is throwen and caste vp in the ayre,

Eche one contendeth and hath a great delite,

With foote and with hande the bladder for to smite,

If it fall to grounde they lifte it vp agayne,

This wise to labour they count it for no payne,

Renning and leaping they driue away the colde,

The sturdie plowmen lustie, stronge and bolde,

Ouercommeth the winter with driuing the foote ball,

Forgetting labour and many a greuous fall.”

 

A shepherd, after mentioning his skill in shooting birds with a bow,

says:—

 

“No shepheard throweth the axeltrie so farre.”

 

A gallant is thus described:—

 

“For women vse to loue them moste of all,

Which boldly bosteth, or that can sing and iet,

Which are well decked with large bushes set,

Which hath the mastery ofte time in tournament,

Or that can gambauld, or daunce feat and gent.”

 

The following sorts of wine are mentioned:—

 

“As Muscadell, Caprike, Romney, and Maluesy,

From Gene brought, from Grece or Hungary.”

 

As are the dainties of the table. A shepherd at court must not think to

eat,

 

“Swanne, nor heron,

Curlewe, nor crane, but course beefe and mutton.”

 

Again:

 

“What fishe is of sauor swete and delicious,—

Rosted or sodden in swete hearbes or wine;

Or fried in oyle, most saporous and fine.—

The pasties of a hart.—

The crane, the fesant, the pecocke and curlewe,

The partriche, plouer, bittor, and heronsewe—

Seasoned so well in licour redolent,

That the hall is full of pleasaunt smell and sent.”

 

At a feast at court:—

 

“Slowe be the seruers in seruing in alway,

But swift be they after, taking thy meate away;

A speciall custome is vsed them among,

No good dish to suffer on borde to be longe:

If the dishe be pleasaunt, eyther fleshe or fishe,

Ten handes at once swarme in the dishe:

And if it be flesh ten kniues shalt thou see

Mangling the flesh, and in the platter flee:

To put there thy handes is perill without fayle,

Without a gauntlet or els a gloue of mayle.”

 

“The two last lines remind us of a saying of Quin, who declared it was not

safe to sit down to a turtle-feast in one of the city-halls, without a

basket-hilted knife and fork. Not that I suppose Quin borrowed his bon-mots

from black letter books.” (Warton.)

 

The following lines point out some of the festive tales of our ancestors:—

 

“Yet would I gladly heare some mery fit

Of mayde Marion, or els of Robin hood;

Or Bentleyes ale which chafeth well the bloud,

Of perre of Norwich, or sauce of Wilberton,

Or buckishe Joly well-stuffed as a ton.”

 

He again mentions “Bentley’s Ale” which “maketh me to winke;” and some of

our ancient domestic pastimes and amusements are recorded:—

 

“Then is it pleasure the yonge maydens amonge

To watche by the fire the winters nightes long:

At their fonde tales to laugh, or when they brall

Great fire and candell spending for laboure small,

And in the ashes some playes for to marke,

To couer wardens [pears] for fault of other warke:

To toste white sheuers, and to make prophitroles;

And after talking oft time to fill the bowles.”

 

He mentions some musical instruments:

 

” … . Methinkes no mirth is scant,

Where no reioysing of minstrelcie doth want:

The bagpipe or fidle to vs is delectable.”

 

And the mercantile commodities of different countries and cities:—

 

“Englande hath cloth, Burdeus hath store of wine,

Cornewall hath tinne, and Lymster wools fine.

London hath scarlet, and Bristowe pleasaunt red,

Fen lands hath fishes, in other place is lead.”

 

Of songs at feasts:—

 

“When your fat dishes smoke hote vpon your table,

Then layde ye songes and balades magnifie,

If they be mery, or written craftely,

Ye clappe your handes and to the making harke,

And one say to other, lo here a proper warke.”

 

He says that minstrels and singers are highly favoured at court, especially

those of the French gise. Also jugglers and pipers.

 

The personal references throughout the Eclogues, in addition to those

already mentioned, though not numerous, are of considerable interest. The

learned Alcock, Bishop of Ely (1486-1500), and the munificent founder of

Jesus College, Cambridge, stands deservedly high in the esteem of a poet

and priest, so zealous of good works as Barclay. The poet’s humour thus

disguises him.—(Eclogue I., A iii., recto.):—

 

“Yes since his dayes a cocke was in the fen,

I knowe his voyce among a thousande men:

He taught, he preached, he mended euery wrong;

But, Coridon alas no good thing bideth long.

He all was a cocke, he wakened vs from slepe,

And while we slumbred, he did our foldes hepe.

No cur, no foxes, nor butchers dogges wood,

Coulde hurte our fouldes, his watching was so good.

The hungry wolues, which that time did abounde,

What time he crowed, abashed at the sounde.

This cocke was no more abashed of the foxe,

Than is a lion abashed of an oxe.

When he went, faded the floure of all the fen;

I boldly dare sweare this cocke neuer trode hen!

This was a father of thinges pastorall,

And that well sheweth his Church cathedrall,

There was I lately about the middest of May,

Coridon his Church is twenty sith more gay

Then all the Churches betwene the same and Kent,

There sawe I his tome and Chapell excellent.

I thought fiue houres but euen a little while,

Saint John the virgin me thought did on me smile,

Our parishe Church is but a dongeon,

To that gay Churche in comparison.

If the people were as pleasaunt as the place

Then were it paradice of pleasour and solace,

Then might I truely right well finde in my heart.

There still to abide and neuer to departe,

But since that this cocke by death hath left his song,

Trust me Coridon there many a thing is wrong,

When I sawe his figure lye in the Chapell-side,

Like death for weping I might no longer bide.

Lo all good thinges so sone away doth glide,

That no man liketh to long doth rest and abide.

When the good is gone (my mate this is the case)

Seldome the better reentreth in the place.”

 

The excellence of his subject carries the poet quite beyond himself in

describing the general lamentation at the death of this worthy prelate;

with an unusual power of imagination he thus pictures the sympathy of the

towers, arches, vaults and images of Ely monastery:

 

“My harte sore mourneth when I must specify

Of the gentle cocke whiche sange so mirily,

He and his flocke wer like an union

Conioyned in one without discention,

All the fayre cockes which in his dayes crewe

When death him touched did his departing rewe.

The pretie palace by him made in the fen,

The maides, widowes, the wiues, and the men,

With deadly dolour were pearsed to the heart,

When death constrayned this shepheard to departe.

Corne, grasse, and fieldes, mourned for wo and payne,

For oft his prayer for them obtayned rayne.

The pleasaunt floures for wo faded eche one,

When they perceyued this shepheard dead and gone,

The okes, elmes, and euery sorte of dere

Shronke vnder shadowes, abating all their chere.

The mightie walles of Ely Monastery,

The stones, rockes, and towres semblably,

The marble pillers and images echeone,

Swet all for sorowe, when this good cocke was gone,

Though he of stature were humble, weake and leane,

His minde was hye, his liuing pure and cleane,

Where other feedeth by beastly appetite,

On heauenly foode was all his whole delite.”

 

Morton, Alcock’s predecessor and afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury

(1486-1500), is also singled out for compliment, in which allusion is made

to his troubles, his servants’ faithfulness, and his restoration to favour

under Richard III. and Henry VII. (Eclogue III.):—

 

“And shepheard Morton, when he durst not appeare,

Howe his olde seruauntes were carefull of his chere;

In payne and pleasour they kept fidelitie

Till grace agayne gaue him aucthoritie

Then his olde fauour did them agayne restore

To greater pleasour then they had payne before.

Though for a season this shepheard bode a blast,

The greatest winde yet slaketh at the last,

And at conclusion he and his flocke certayne

Eche true to other did quietly remayne.”

 

And again in Eclogue IV.:—

 

“Micene and Morton be dead and gone certayne.”

 

The “Dean of Powles” (Colet), with whom Barclay seems to have been

personally acquainted, and to whom the reference alludes as to one still