The Ship of Fools, Volume 1-2, Sebastian Brant [good books to read TXT] 📗

thy prayers alway sholde enclyne

Oft sholde come great sorowe to the and to all thyne

 

THE ENUOY OF BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

 

Man clere thy mynde or thou begyn to pray

Els though thy prayer be iust it is but vayne

And kepe togyther thy hurte and tonge alway

Or els doutles thou lesest all thy payne

From lewde peticions thy mynde thou ought refrayne

If thou desyre yll to thy fo by malyce

At thy peticion god shall haue dysdayne

For though thou be wrothe god is nat in lyke wyse

 

*

 

Of vnprofytable stody.

 

[Illustration: He that vayne stody doth haunt or exercyse

And lesyth his tyme, of fruyte voyde and barayne

Resortynge to ryot whiche cunnynge doth dispyse

And that of doctryne (in maner) hath disdayne

Suche shall in age of his madnes complayne

And seynge that he lesyth his tyme thus in foly

Let hym come to our folysshe company.]

 

Nowe in this Nauy many them selfe present

Of this our roylame and from beyond the see

Whiche in theyr stody or lewde and neglygent

Lesynge theyr tyme at the vnyuersyte

Yet count they them selfe of great auctoryte

With theyr proude hodes on theyr neckes hangynge

They haue the lawde: but other haue the cunnynge

 

They thynke that they haue all scyence perfytely

Within theyr hertes bostynge them of the same

Though they therto theyr mynde dyd neuer aply

Without the thynge, they ioy them of the name

But suche mad folys to theyr great losse and shame

Whyle they sholde norysshe theyr myndes with science

They seke theyr pleasour, gyuen to neglygence

 

They wander in euery inconuenyence

From strete to strete, from tauerne to tauerne

But namely youth, foloweth all offence

No thynge intendynge the profyte to dyscerne

Nor fruyte of cunnynge wherby they myght gouerne

Them selfe by reason, but suche thynges they ensue

Wherby they neyther get good maners nor vertne

 

But he that intendeth to come to the science

And godly wysdome of our elders: certayne.

He must sore stody, for without dilygence

And besy laboure no man can it obtayne

None ought to cesse: though it firste be a payne.

In good perseueraunce getteth great ryches

Where no good cometh by sleuthfull ydelnes.

 

But moste I marueyll of other folys blynde

Whiche in dyuers scyencis ar fast laborynge

Both daye and nyght with all theyr herte and mynde

But of gramer knowe they lytyll or no thynge

Whiche is the grounde of all lyberall cunnynge

Yet many ar besy in Logyke and in lawe

Whan all theyr gramer is skarsly worth a strawe

 

If he haue onys red the olde dotrinall

With his diffuse and vnparfyte breuyte

He thynketh to haue sene the poyntis of grammer all.

And yet of one errour he maketh two or thre

Precyan or sulpice disdayneth he to se

Thus many whiche say that they theyr grammer can

Ar als great folys as whan they firste began

 

One with his speche rounde tournynge lyke a whyle

Of logyke the knottis doth lows and vndo

In hande with his sylogysimes, and yet doth he fele

No thynge what it menyth, nor what longeth therto

Nowe sortes currit: Nowe is in hande plato

Another comyth in with bocardo and pheryson

And out goeth agayne a fole in conclusyon

 

There is nought else but Est and non est

Blaberynge and chydynge, as it were beawlys wyse

They argue nought els but to proue man a beest

Homo est Asinus is cause of moche stryfe

Thus passe forth these folys the dayes of theyr lyfe

In two syllabis, not gyuynge aduertence

To other cunnynge doctryne, nor scyence.

 

I wyll nat say but that it is expedyent

The to knowe of Logyke the chrafte and connynge

For by argument it maketh euydent

Moche obscurenes, somtyme enlumynynge

The mynde: and sharpynge the wyt in many a thynge

But oft yet by it a thynge playne bryght and pure

Is made diffuse, vnknowen harde and obscure

 

It is ynoughe therof to knowe the grounde

And nat therin to wast all thy lyfe holly

Styll grutchynge lyke vnto the frogges sounde

Or lyke the chaterynge of the folysshe pye

If one afferme the other wyll deny

Sophestry nor Logyke with their art talcatyfe

Shewe nat the way vnto the boke of lyfe

 

With suche folyes tender youth is defylyd

And all theyr dayes on them they set delyte

But godly doctryne is from theyr myndes exylyd

Whiche sholde the body and soule also profyte

They take no layser, pleasur nor respyte

To other scyences, pleasaunt and profytable

But without ende in one thynge chat and bable

 

One rennyth to almayne another vnto fraunce

To parys padway Lumbardy or spayne

Another to Bonony, Rome or orleance

To cayne, to Tolows, Athenys or Colayne

And at the last retournyth home agayne

More ignorant, blynder and gretter folys

Than they were whan they firste went to the scolys

 

One bostynge the name of a lawer or deuyne

His proude hode hye vpon his stately necke:

Thus muste a gode clerke vnto a foule enclyne

Lowt with the body and with obedyence becke

And thoughe it tourne to theyr rebuke and checke

Yet nowe a dayes ouer many suche there be.

Whiche in stede of cunnynge vseth audacyte

 

The hode must answere for the follysshe student

Theyr tyme hath ben lost frutles and barayne.

Theyr frendes godes on suche folyes ar spent

To their damage thought hunger and payne:

Thus to conclude: me thynke it is but vayne

The frendes to labour the dayes of theyr lyue

To spare for suche scolers whiche shall neuer thryue

 

The great foly, the pryde, and the enormyte

Of our studentis, and theyr obstynate errour

Causeth me to wryte two sentences or thre

More than I fynde wrytyn in myne actoure

The tyme hath ben whan I was conductoure

Of moche foly, whiche nowe my mynde doth greue

Wherfor of this shyp syns I am gouernoure.

I dare be bolde myne owne vyce to repreue

 

Howe be it I knowe my wordes shall suche greue

As them selfe knoweth fawty and culpable

But if they be wroth: take they me by the sleue

For they shall bere the hode and I wyll the bable:

But firste ye studentis that ar of mynde vnstable

Ye wasters and getters by nyght in felde or towne

Within my Nauy wolde I set you to a cable

If I not fered lyst ye your selfe wolde drowne

 

Also I fere lyst my shyp sholde synke for syn

If that Cupido and Uenus seruytours

On the vnsure se my shyp entred within

Or all the folys promotyd to honours

I none receyue can of hye progenytours

My shyp is nat dressyd for them conuenyent

And to I fere lyst theyr cruell rygours:

Sholde rayse to my shyp some tempest or tourment

 

THENUOY OF BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

 

Fy studentis clens your myndes of this cryme

Gyue ones your hertis to parfyte dylygence

Howe longe in Idelnes, wyll ye lese your tyme

In pryde and ryot, with all other offence

Alas what profyte get ye by neglygence

But spende your goodes in all iniquyte

And where your frendes thynke, ye labour for scyence:

Ye lese your tyme bryngynge them to pouertee

 

Leue of suche stody as is vnprofytable

Without fruyte outher godly discyplyne

And gyue your myndes to scyences lawdable

Where ye may your herte set and inclyne:

To Arystotyls or Platoys doctryne

And nat alway on logyke or Sophestry

I wyll nat say but it is a thynge dyuyne

And moche worth to knowe Phylosophy

 

*

 

Of them that folysshly speke agaynst

the workes of god.

 

[Illustration: Here note we fowlys whiche can nat be content

With goddes worke, and ordynaunce dyuyne

Thynkynge theyr owne wyll moche more expedyent

Nat wyllynge theyr myndes to his wyll to enclyne

But suche folys often sholde come to ruyne

And wo with sorowe and losse sholde they fynde

If god sholde conforme his workes to theyr mynde]

 

He is a fole and laboreth in vayne:

Whiche with small brondes of fyre flamynge bryght

Entendyth with laboure besynes and payne

Of the shynynge sonne for to encrease the lyght

Suche one assayeth a thynge passynge his myght

And is a fole to set thought or delyte

To mende that thynge whiche god hath made perfyte

 

But yet is he a moche gretter fole truely

Whiche wyll correct that thynge whiche god hath done

And doth nat his herte his wyll and mynde aply

To goddes workes and deuyne prouysyon

Of all other maddest is his condycion

And more frantyfe forsoth I may hym call

Than they that ar vext with furyes infernall:

 

(Thou fole) the myght of god omnipotent

In vertue and wysdome so largely doth extende

His maiesty, and power is so excellent

His glorious godhede his workes doth defende

So that no mortall man can them amende

Wenest thou mad fole that thou amende cannest ought

That he hath done: whiche made all thynge of nought

 

He that hath made the heuen and firmament

The londe, the se, and euery other thynge

Is so discrete, so wyse, and prouydent

Before his presence parfytely seynge

All thynge to come that neuer hath had beynge

His workes and dedys ar so perfyte and ryght

That none can increas nor yet decreas his myght

 

He doth all thynge dispose moderate and dispence

Knowynge our mynde, and what is to vs most mete

All thynge is open and playne in his presence

Our inwarde thought must he nedes knowe and wete

And euery fortune is playne before his fete

He hath all thynge by lawe and order drest

And doth no thynge but it is for the best

 

Therfore whether he gyue thunder snowe or rayne

Wynde or wether, tempest or tourment

Frost lyghtnynge, fayre wether, outher storme sodayne

Mystes or clowdes, yet man sholde be content

And nat with worde nouther inwarde intent

Agaynst god grutche, but euery day and houre

Magnyfye the dedys of god his creatoure

 

It were moche better thou fole that thou were dome

Than to cast lewde wordes agaynst thy lorde in vayne

Thou fole he worketh no thynge but by wysedome

And yet art thou nat content but dost complayne

Thou sekest vengeaunce (for thy synne) and payne

In hell for euer, thynkynge thy selfe so wyse

To teche thy god, and his warke to dispyse

 

It is nat lawfull for any, hye nor lowe

To be so bolde so blynde or so cruell

Grutchynge wordes agaynst his god to throwe

Thughe to theyr plaseour a thynge nat fortune well

Take example by the children of Israell

Whiche oft for this synne suffred great payne and wo

Slayne and distroyed, so haue ben many mo

 

Many a lewde body without wysdome or rede

Grutche in theyr myndes, and openly do blame

Almyghy god, whan theyr children ar dede

Where rather they ought to enioye of the same

For it myght fortune that great rebuke and shame

Myght to theyr frendes haue come by theyr synne and cryme

Soone after: if they had nat dyed at that tyme

 

Wherfore this one clause is my conclusyon

That god our maker is wyse and prouydent

Blame nat his workes by thyne abusyon

For all that he doth is for the best intent

But if that god sholde alwaye assent

To our desyres and euer perfourme our wyll

Our owne requestis sholde tourne vs to great yll

 

ALEXANDER BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

 

O ye mad myndes that no thynge vnderstonde

O man presumptuous and vnobedyent

Howe darest thou be so bolde to take on honde

To