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

pleasour or corporall

voluptuosyte

 

[Illustration: Wanton wastfull and vayne voluptuosyte

Oft blyndeth attysynge vnto inconuenyence

Many that ar rude, for theyr symplycyte

And them as shepe sleeth for all theyr innocence

But other some it kepyth with myght and violence

As bulles bounde sure to endure great care

And other as byrdes it tangleth in hir snare]

 

Drawe nere ye folys to you I crye and call

Whiche ar of grace clene destytute and bare

Folowynge your lust and pleasour corporall

But for your soule ye take no thought ne care

To whome may I this shamefull lust compare

Saue to a harlat faynynge, fals and couetous.

Of whome comyth shame and bytes venemous

 

She syttyth in the strete as past both shame and fere

Hir brestes bare to tempt them that passe by

Hir face anoyntyd blasynge abrode hir here

Or els on hir folysshe front enlaced hye

Hir smocke to garnysshyd so hir dysceytfull iye

To shamfull lust a thousande doth attyce

Of youth whiche erst perchuance knewe nought of vyce

 

Hir chamber full of flatery and disceyte

Anone is opened the blynde fole entreth in

The hoke of deth is hyd vnder the bayte

Of folysshe lust pleasour and mortall syn

Hir soule she sellyth ryches therby to wyne

And what riches: a rewarde sothly full vyle

The soules damneth and bodyes doth defyle

 

The one departyth, another comys in agayne

Without all shame dare she them boldly pray

To hir fals pleasours, Thus by hir gyle and trayne

This folysshe youth to hir wyll nat denay

But vnto hir some lepe both nyght and day

Without mesure, rennynge to lese theyr lyfe

As ox or shepe vnto the bochers knyfe

 

The symple lambe his necke doth out extende

Vnto the Bocher his mortall ennemy

So doth these folys, sekynge a shamefull ende

And theyr owne deth, though they myght fynde remedy

O blynde fole I requyre the to aply

Vnto my wordes and thou shalt here and se.

Howe moche thou oughtest this folysshe lust to fle

 

The soule it damneth, and drowneth depe in hell

The wyt it wastyth, and confoundeth the mynde

It causeth man his londe and good to sell

And if that he none other mene can fynde

To rob and stele he oft tyme is inclyned

Besyde all these this fowle lust is so vyle

That with fowle sauour it shall thy body fele

 

Thoughe of lewde lust the ioy be short and small

And thoughe the pleasour therof be soon ouer past

The payne that foloweth it, is eternall

With wofull dolour menglyd, that euer shall last

Therfore leue of: do nat thy pleasour cast

On worldly welth, delyte ioy and pleasour

For soon they pas and chaunge at euery hour

 

Who that in this wretchyd worlde wyll auoyde

Of voluptuousnes the ioyes frayle and vayne

And suffre nat hym with them to be acloyde

Infect or drownyd, shall for the same certayne

Euerlastynge lyfe, and endles ioy obtayne

And for his hye tryumphe and dyuyne prudence

Haue the fruycyon of goddes hye presence

 

But who that wyll his carnall lust ensue

Shall here haue shame, and after payne cruell

I coude hereof dyuers examples shewe

But of right many this one I shall you tell

One Sardanapalus all other dyd excell.

In carnall lust and so his mynde dyd cast

On loue prohybyte, that grace was fro hym past

 

The loue of vertue was full out of his mynde

So he concludyd to sue dilyciousnes

Thynkynge after deth no welth nor ioy to fynde

For this is the sentence of the prynce of derknes

But good almyghty seynge his vycyousnes

His body and soule deuydyd soon in twayne

From worldly pleasour vnto infernall payne

 

By this hystory to vs it apereth playne

That from worldly pleasour and voluptuosyte

With all our myght we ought vs to refrayne

For thoughe the first of them delycious be

Theyr ende is poyson, and of sournes plente

Sue wyse men vertue, and set suche lust asyde

For they ar folys that in it lyue and byde

 

THE ENUOY OF BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

 

Amende mad men your blynde mysgouernaunce

Subdue nat your necke to the captyuyte

Of flysshely lust and corporall pleasaunce

Nor to blynde Venus with hir lasciuyte

(If ye it note) ye dayly here and se

The mysfortune of them that it ensue

And certaynly no man can saued be

By carnall lust, but by godly vertue

 

*

 

Of folys that can nat kepe secrete theyr

owne counsell.

 

[Illustration: Of other Foles a nomber yet I fynde

Which by theyr bablynge wordes and langage

Can nat kepe close the secrete of theyr mynde.

But all theyr counsel out they shewe at large.

So that oft therof procedeth great damage.

As Murder, myschefe, hatered and debate.

That after they repent. But than it is to late]

 

He is a naturall fole and vndiscrete

And to hym selfe ingendryth oft great stryfe

Whiche can nat hyde his counsell and secrete

But by his foly it sheweth to his wyfe

And all that he hath done in his hole lyfe

Or that to do here after he doth purpose

To euery man suche a fole wyll disclose

 

The noble Sampson moste excellent of myght

And strongest man that euer was get or borne

Were nat this foly: sholde nat haue lost his syght

Nor had his here, by gyle from his hede ofshorne

And of his ennemyes ben laughyd vnto scorne

And at the last with herte wrethfull and wo

His ennemyes murdred and hym selfe also

 

Where as he myght haue lyued in honour

If he had kept his secretes in his mynde

With his owne wyll he dyed in great dolour.

By the fals treason of his lemman vnkynde

We may in dyuers mo examples fynde

Howe many thousandes haue suffred paynes smart

And all for shewynge the secretes of theyr hart

 

Amphiaraus a Prynce moste excellent

Shortened the dayes of his pore doutfull lyfe

For shewynge the preuetees of his intent

By his owne foly to his disceytfull wyfe

And thoughe he longe escaped had the stryfe

And war of Thebes whiche he dyd longe defende

Yet at the leest his tunge was his owne ende

 

Thus olde storyes doth oft recorde and tell

By theyr examples whiche they vnto vs gyue

That wymen ar no kepars of councell

It goeth through them as water trough a syue

Wherfore let them that quyetly wolde lyue

No more of theyr counsell to any woman showe

Than that they wolde that euery man dyd knowe

 

Let euery man that is discrete and sage

Of suche folys with all wysdome be ware

Whiche shewe theyr counsell by theyr hasty langage.

To euery man without all thought and care

For they of wysdome and reason ar but bare

And who that his owne secrete wyll forth tell

Howe sholde he hyde another mannes counsell

 

Yet other be whiche by theyr flaterynge trayne

Labour to knowe euery mannys pryuete

And by and by to shewe it forth agayne

Of them be ware for they disceyfull be.

Some other bost them of theyr felycyte

Bablynge that they haue theyr wyll in euery thynge

As prosperous welth loue, ryches and cunnynge

 

And of great dedes done both on see and londe

Some by theyr falshode, some by strength and vertue

But if one laboured the trouth to vnderstonde

Suche folysshe wordes sholde all be founde vntrewe

Let neuer man to suche his counsell shewe

For of one worde these folys makyth twayne

Whiche tourneth many to losse rebuke and payne

 

Wherfore if thou wylt that thy pryuete

Be kept secrete and nat come out at large

Be nat so folysshe to showe it unto me

Or any other if it be thynge of charge

And if thou do thou shalt be in this barge

For howe wylt thou thynke that another man

Can kepe thy counsell syns thou thy selfe ne can

 

If the kynge Achab had nat vttred and tolde

Vnto his wyfe his wyll and mynde so playne

By hir fals treason, and dysceyt manyfolde

Vnrightwysly Nabot had nat ben slayne

But for the same, Achab suffred great payne

By deth in batayle, and for a punysshment

His wyfe with houndes was all to torne and rent

 

Thus it apereth that he is wyse and ware

Whiche can his counsell kepe within his hart

For by that mean may he escape great care

And suerly lyue without yll wyllys dart

The Prophete seynge what dyuers paynes smart

Comyth oft to them whiche doth theyr secret tell

Eche man exortyth to kepe close his counsell.

 

THE ENUOY OF BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

 

Thou man that hast thy secret in thy brest

Holde it styll there suffer it nat out to go

Who that so doth, therby shall fynde great rest

Ne to thy frende shewe nat thy mynde also

For if that he after become thy fo

As often hapneth, than myght he the bewry

So sholde thy foly tourne vnto thy great wo

Howe be it suche thynges are prouyd comonly.

 

*

 

Of yonge folys that take olde wymen to

theyr wyues, for theyr ryches.

 

[Illustration: Within our shyp that fole shall haue a hode

Whiche an olde wyfe taketh in maryage

Rather for hir ryches and hir worldly gode

Than for pure loue, or hope to haue lynage

But suche youth as mary them selfe with age

The profyte and pleasour of wedlocke lese certayne

And worthely lyue in brawlynge stryfe and payne.]

 

Under the Asse tayle thoughe it be no thynge pure

Yet many seke and grope for the vyle fatnes

Gatherynge togyther the fowle dunge and ordure

Suche ar they that for treasour and ryches

Whyle they ar yonge in theyr chefe lustynes

An agyd woman taketh to theyr wyfe

Lesynge theyr youth, and shortynge so theyr lyfe

 

They that so do hath neyther rest nor peas

But besy brawlynge and stryfe contynuall

They have no pleasour, but thought and great dyseas

Rebuke out braydynge, and strypes whan they fall

But theyr owne foly is grounde and cause of all

For they be maryd unto the vyle treasour

And precious bagges, but nat for godly pleasour

 

They haue no hope of children nor lynage

Loue is there none, and durynge theyr wretchyd lyfe

Is nat one day in suche mad maryage

Auoyde of brawlynge, of hatered and of stryfe

But that pore man that weddeth a ryche wyfe

Cast in his nose shall styll hir bagges fynde

For whose cause he made was made and blynde

 

They that ar weddyd nat for loue but rychesse

Of moryage despysynge the pleasour and profyte

Suche seldome sauour fortunes happynes

But oft mysfortune them greuously doth byte

Thus gone is theyr pleasour theyr ioy and delyte

And for vayne treasoure suche ar so glad and fayne

That for the same they them subdue to payne

 

They wyllyngly to payne them selfe subdue

The whiche ar weddyd for wretchyd couetyse

They take no hede to maners and vertue

To honeste nor wysdome but lyue ay in malyce

For if a woman be fowle and full of vice

And lewde of maners, nought both to man and lad

Yet good shall hir mary be she neuer so bad

 

If that a man of hye or lowe degre

Wolde spouse his doughter vnto a strange man

He nought inquyreth of his honestye

Of his behauour, nor if he norture can

But if he be ryche in londes and good: than

He shall be prayed his doughter for to haue

Thoughe be but a bonde man or a knaue