The Ship of Fools, Volume 1-2, Sebastian Brant [good books to read TXT] 📗
- Author: Sebastian Brant
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And it to obtayne puttyth his besynes
Aboue all folys shall haue preemynence
And in this worlde haue honour and rychesse
Or a worthy crowne in heuyns blessydnesse
Or els bothe welthe here, and after ioy and blysse
Where as a fole of bothe the two shall mysse]
Wysdome with voyce replete with grauyte
Callyth to all people, and sayth o thou mankynde
Howe longe wylt thou lyue in this enormyte
Alas howe longe shalt thou thy wyt haue blynde
Here my preceptis and rote them in thy mynde
Nowe is full tyme and season to clere thy syght:
Harkyn to my wordes, grounde of goodnes and ryght
Lerne mortall men, stodyenge day and nyght
To knowe me wysdome, chefe rote of chastyte
My holy doctryne thy herte shall clere and lyght
My tunge shall shewe the ryght and equyte
Chase out thy foly, cause of aduersyte.
And seke me wysdome whiche shall endewe thy mynde
With helth and welth wherby thou lyfe shalt fynde
Aryse I say agayne to the mankynde
And seke me wysdome that am well of goodnes
Let nat this worlde thy conscyence farther blynde
Nor to synne subdue for loue of false rychesse
Blynde nat thy herte with mondayne wretchednes
I am worth golde and worth all good mundayne:
And to mankynde counselloure souerayne
No maner Jowell is to me lyke certayne
Ne so profytable to mortall creature
I passe all ryches and cause a man refrayne
His mynde from synne, and of his ende be sure
There is no treasoure nor precious stone so pure
Carbuncle Ruby ne adamond in londe nor see
Nor other lapydary comparable to me:
And shortly to speke wysdome is more laudable
Than all the worlde or other thynge mundayne
There is no treasoure: to wysdome comparable
But it alone is a vertue moste souerayne
Hauynge nought lyke in valoure nor worth certayne
No fole is so ryche, nor hye of dignyte
But that a wyse man pore is more worthy than he
Wysdome preserueth men in auctoryte
Prynces promotynge by counseyll prouydent
By it pore men somtyme, and of lowe degre
Hath had the hole worlde to them obedyent
It gydeth Cytees and countrees excellent
And gouerneth the counseyll of prynce lorde and kynge
Strengthynge the body the herte enlumynynge
It gydyth lordes and from bondage doth brynge
Them whome foly hath brought in to captyuyte
Hir gyftys to mankynde frely offrynge
Gydynge hir discyples from all aduersyte
Wysdome stondynge vpon a stage on hye
Cryeth to mankynde with lowde voyce in this wyse
I trouth exalte: and vycious men dispyse
Lerne of me wysdome cast out your couetyse
For by my myght craft and wyse prouysicion
Kynges vnto their dygnyte dothe ryse
Theyr septers gydynge by my monycion
I gaue them lawes to gyde eche regyon
In welthe defendynge and in prosperyte
Them and theyr royalmes whyle they gyde them by me
All maner nacyons that doth to me inclyne
I gyde and gouerne by lawe and equyte
In me is right, godly wyt and doctryne
What blynde foly, and howe great aduersyte
Do they auoyde that gyde them selfe by me
And he that me louyth with worshyp and honour
Shall knowe my loue my grace and my fauour
He that me folowyth shall auoyde all dolour
I shall hym folowe promotynge in suche case
That none shall be before hym in valour
I godly ryches in my power inbrace
Whiche man by me may esely purchase
And he that wyll his way by me addresse
I shall rewarde with heuenly ioy endles
The father of heuen of infynyte goodnesse.
Me comprehendyth within his deytee
Of hym my firste begynnynge is doutles.
And heuen and erth he create hath by me
And euery creature bothe on londe and se
The heuen imperyall all planetis and firmameut
God neuer thynge made without my true assent
Therfore mankynde set thy mynde and intent
To me wysdome to be subiect and seruaunt
To my preceptis be thou obedyent
And heuenly ioy thou shalt nat lacke nor want
For doutles they ar mad and ignoraunt
And folys blyndyd who so euer they be
That wyll nat gladly be seruauntes vnto me
THE ENVOY OF BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.
Aryse folys of myndes darke and blynde.
Receyue the gyftes of godly sapyence
Here hir perceptis and plant them in your mynde
And rote out the gaffys of your olde offence.
Call to your myndes what inconuenyence
Howe sodayne fallys, what sorowe and turment
Hath come to many a myghty lorde and prynce
For nat folowynge of hir commaundement.
*
Of bostynge or hauynge confydence
in fortune.
[Illustration: He is a fole whiche settyth confydence
On frayle fortune vncertayne and mutable
His mynde exaltynge in pryde and insolence
Because that she somtyme is fauorable
As if she wolde so be perdurable
Suche folys oft whan they thynke them most sure
All sodaynly great mysfortune endure]
Amonge our folys he ought to haue a place
And so he shall for it is resonable
Whiche thynketh hymselfe greatly in fortunes grace
Bostynge that she to hym is fauorable
As if hyr maner were nat to be mutable
In this vayne hope suche theyr lyfe doth lede
Tyll at the laste theyr hous borne oure theyr hede
He shakyth boost and oft doth hym auaunte
Of fortunes fauoure and his prosperyte
Whiche suffreth hym nought of his wyll to wante
So that he knoweth nought of aduersyte
Nor mysfortune nor what thynge is pouertee.
O lawles fole, o man blyndyd of mynde
Say what suretye in fortune canst thou fynde
To what ende or vnto what conclusyon
Shall fortune frayle vnrightwyse and vnsure
Lede the blynde fole by hyr abusyon.
Howe darest thou the in hir blyndnes assure.
Syns she vnstable is and can nat longe endure
Hir gyftis changith, she is blynde and sodayne
Thoughe she firste lawghe hir ende is vncertayne.
Thou shakest boste ofte of hir foly in vayne
For he is most happy whiche can auoyde hir snare
If she exalte some one vnto welth mundayne
She bryngeth another to payne sorowe and care
Whyle one is ladyd to the others backe is bare
Whyle she a begger maketh in good abounde
A lorde or state she throweth to the grounde
But nat withstandynge hir mutabylyte.
Thou bostest thy gode and to moche abundaunce
Thou bostest thy welth and thy prosperyte
Thy good auenturs, and plentyfull pleasaunce
Alas blynde fole amende thy ygnoraunce
And in thy welthe to this saynge intende
That fortune euer hath an incertayne ende
Fals fortune infect of countenaunce and of face
By hir iyen clowdy and varyable vysage
Hath many for a whyle taken to hir grace
Whiche after by hir whele vnstable and volage
Hath brought them to wo mysfortune and damage
She ruleth pore and riche without difference
Lewdnes exaltynge and damnynge innocence
Thus is that man voyde, of all intellygence
Whom fortune fedyth, with chaunche fortunable
If he therin haue ouer large confydence
And thynke that sure that euer is mutable
That fole is sonne, to the fende abhomynable
That foloweth ryches, and fortune that is blynde
His sauyour lefte, and clene out of mynde
Whan the foule fende, father of vnhappynes
Pore man purposyth by falshode to begyle
He sendeth hym welth worldly, and fals ryches
And causeth fortune, awhyle on hym to smyle
Whiche with hir blyndenes doth mankynde so defyle
That whyle they trust in hir fauour to sore.
They damme theyr soules in hell for euermore
By large examples thou eche day mayste se
The chaunge of fortune and the ende vncertayne
Wherfore to boste the of hyr commodyte
It is great foly and also thynge in vayne
From this lewdnes thy mynde therfore refrayne
And be content with fortune moderate
Nor boste the nat of thy welth or estate
This day thou art ryche and despysest the pore
Yet so may it fall, that for thy lewde lyuynge
To morowe thou beggest thy brede from dore to dore
Therfore remembre that blynde fortune wandrynge
Hath nat in hyr handes power, nor gydynge
The rewardes of welth, nor of felycyte
But god them gydeth by his great maieste
And all thynge chaungeth as is to hym plesaunt
His dedes to wysdome alwaye agreable
Wherfore blynde fole be nat so ignoraunt
To prayse fortune whiche is so varyable
And of rewardes vnsure and chaungeable
But thoughe she smyle trust nat to hir intent
For amonge swete herbes ofte lurkyth the serpent
BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.
Ye folys that haue in fortune confydence:
And boste you of welth and of prosperyte
Leue of your foly, and note by euydence:
Hir cours vnsure: and hir mutabylyte
None in this lyfe can byde in one degre
But somtyme hye, than after pore and lowe.
Nowe nought set by, nowe in auctoryte
Nowe full nowe voyde as waters ebbe and flowe
I am remembred that I haue often sene
Great worldly ryches ende in pouertye
And many one that hath in fauour ben:
And hye promotyd in welth and dignyte.
Hath sodaynly fallyn into calamyte
Thus is it foly to trust in fortunes grace
For whyle the Se floweth and is at Burdews hye
It as fast ebbeth at some other place
*
Of the ouer great and chargeable
curyosyte of men.
[Illustration: Unto mo folys here ordayne I a barge
Whiche medlyth with euery mannys besynes
And nat intendeth to their owne losse and charge
Great payne and wo suche folys oft oppresse
And let them lerne with pacyent mekenes
To suffer sorowe for why they shall none lacke
Syns they alone, the hole worlde take on theyr backe]
He that wyll coueyt to bere more than he may
And take on his sholders more than he can sustayne
Suche is a fole, his dedys wyll not deny
And with his owne wyll gooth to peryll and payne.
He is vnwyse whiche is ioyous and fayne
To offer his necke to bere that without fere
Whiche were ynoughe for dyuers men to bere
That man that taketh vpon his backe alone
The heuy weght of the large fyrmament
Or any burdeyne whiche maketh hym to grone
Whiche to sustayne his strength is ympotent
No meruayle is if he fall incontynent
And than whan he lowe on the grounde doth lye
He oft repentyth his purpose and foly
We haue in storyes many examples great
Shewynge the lewde ende of this curyosyte.
I rede of Alexander that dyd often sweate
In great peryls to augment his dignyte
He was nat content with europe and asye
Nor all the grounde under the fyrmament
At the last ende, cowde nat his mynde content
As if all the erth were nat suffycyent
For his small body by curyouse couetyse
But at the last he must holde hym content
With a small cheste, and graue nat of great pryce.
Thus deth vs shewyth what thynge sholde vs suffyce
And what is the ende of our curyosyte.
For dethe is lyke to hye and lowde degre
What shall a kynge at his last endynge haue
Of all his realme and infynyte treasoure
Saue onely his towmbe, and the grounde of his graue
But thoughe it be of great pryce and voloure
As is conuenyent to his hye honoure.
Yet lytell conforte to his soule shall it gyue
But cause of bostynge to them that after lyue
Thus whan man vnto his last ende is come
He nought with hym bereth of his dignytees
Wherfore cynicus a man of great wysdome
Lorde grettest of Grece in londes and Cytees
Hathe lefte
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