THENUOY OF BARKLAY.

Ye that take charge, thought and besy cure For others mysfortune, losse or aduersyte First of your self I aduyse you to be sure For this is the order of parfyte charyte Eche to hym selfe moste louynge ay to be And next to his frende, but who that doth dispyse. His owne besynes whiche is in ieopardye Seynge to anothers forsoth he is vnwyse

* * * * *

Of the vyce of vnkyndnes.



He is a Fole that crauynge is alway Takynge the seruyce and rewardes of his frende And nat remembryth the same agayne to pay But as a churle it castyth out of his mynde For who that wolde haue one to hym be kynde And lyberall, he ought the same to be For kyndnes meyntayneth bothe loue and charyte

He that wyll charge another with cures harde And great labours greuous to sustayne Ought for his labour hym worthely rewarde That the rewarde may be confort to his payne It is disworshyp and also shame certayne To take the labour of any ryche or pore And nat iustly hym to content therfore

Wherfore the workman ought also to intende Vnto his labour to saue his honestye And workemanly to brynge it the ende If he therby wolde well rewardyd be And if the owner therof beholde and se. His worke so done, he is a chorle vnkynde If he do nat content the workmannys mynde.

He that wolde gladly that men sholde hym commende Must fully purpose and fyx within his mynde Lyberall to be and nat euer to intende To false Auaryce, whiche many one doth blynde And if he purpose hye honours for to fynde Or hym auaunce to any great degre He must haue mekenes and lyberalyte

He must of maners also be commendable And of his speche als pleasaunt as he can For an olde prouerbe true and verytable Sayth that good lyfe and maners makyth man But euery lawe doth dam and also ban The churlysshe vyce and lewde of vnkyndnes Whiche dryeth vp the well of bounte and goodnes

For vnkynde folys if one labour dylygent And so brynge theyr worke vnto good conclusyon They fynde yet fautis and so ar nat content Withdrawynge the rewarde by theyr collusyon Wherfore let suche thynke it no abusyon Nor haue disdayne ne yet in mynde complayne If the pore laborer gyue vp his worke agayne

These frowarde Folys, doth wronge and iniury To suche as to them do profyte and honour For kyndnes, they render shame and vylany Rebukes sclander extorcion and rygour But whyle they hope to come to great valoure And by such rygour to honours to aryse Theyr hope vanyssheth as doth the snowe or yce

Wherfore who that puttyth one to besynes To charge or labour of body or of mynde Ought hym rewarde agayne for his kyndnes If he do nat forsoth he is unkynde But specyally as I oft wryten fynde It is a thynge whiche doth for vengeaunce cry A pore laborer to put to Iniury

What man can wryte the inconuenyence Whiche groweth of this lewde and cursyd vyce Vnkyndnes causeth great myschefe and offence And is repugnynge to reason and iustyce Wherfore let suche that wyll be namyd wyse Leue it: and folowe lyberalyte Whiche is noryssher of loue and amyte

In dyuers bokes examples we may fynde Howe many Cytees hygh and excellent Agaynst all lawe and reason were vnkynde To suche as dyd theyr dignyte augment O vnkynde rome thou was of this intent Whiche hast Camyllus exyled in great payne Thoughe he euer laboured thy honour to mentayne

O cruell Athenes by thy ingratytude Hast thou nat banysshyd Solon also fro the Though he enfourmyd hath thy maners rude And gyuyn the lawes of right and equyte For his great meryte, loue and benygnyte Thou hast hym gyuen exyle and paynes harde His labour was nat worthy that rewarde

Thou vnkynde Sparta: of thy audacyte What shall I wryte or thy lewde vnkyndnes Hast thou nat banysshed by thy cruelte Thy kynge Lycurgus, bycause he dyd redres Thy wanton errours by lawe and rightwysnes And Scipio whiche his country dyd defende Fonde it to hym, vnkynde at the last ende

A thousande mo whome I can nat expresse To suche as haue for them abyde great payne Haue done displeasour, and shewed vnkyndnes And them disceyued by some cautele or trayne Yet none of them great goodnes cowde obtayne By theyr vnkyndnes for who that so doth cast Vnkyndly shall be seruyd at the last.

THENUOY OF BARKLAY.

O fals vnkyndnes out on the I cry From all goodnes dost thou nat man withdrawe Byndynge his herte to gyle and vylany Agaynst nature, agaynst both right and lawe Thou makest man his maker nat to knawe Therfore thou man expell out from thy mynde This vyce, for we fynde in an olde sayde sawe Wo is hym that to his maker is vnkynde.

Remember man the great preemynence Gyuen unto the by good omnypotent Bytwene the and Angels is lytell difference And all thynge erthly to the obedyent Fysshe byrde and beste vnder the fyrmament Say what excuse mayst thou nowe lay or fynde Syns thou art made by god so excellent But that thou oughtest agayne to hym be kynde.

God hath the made vnto his owne lykenes No erthly creature vnto the comparable Thy iyen vpwarde to consyder his hyghnes Where other creatures that ar vnresonable Goeth on all foure and ar nat other able. Theyr loke alway vnto the grounde inclynyd Therfore thou ought in vertue to be stable And to thy maker neuer to be vnkynde

Whan man offendyd by disobedyence Subduynge hym self to labour care and payne And lost the consort of goodes hye presence Hath nat christ Jhesu redemyd hym agayne Besyde all this thou hast no thynge certayne In erth but by hym. wherfore I call the blynde And of thy maners vncurtayse and vylayne If to thy sauyour thou be nat true and kynde

Thoughe god hath made the (man) thus excellent To lyue (if thou lyst) in ioy eternally A lytell thynge shall hym agayne content He nought requyreth but thy herte onely And that thou defy thy gostly ennemy And in goddes seruyce thy herte and body bynde. Than shall he rewarde the in heuen right gloriously So mayst thou be callyd vnto thy maker kynde

* * * * *

Of folys that stande so well in their owne conceyt that they thinke none so wyse, stronge, fayre, nor eloquent, as they ar themself.



Vnto my shyp I call hym to be Coke The mete to dresse to other Folys echone Whiche in his myrrour doth alway gase and loke Whan he may get hym vnto a place alone And though of colour and beaute he haue none Yet thynketh he hym self fayre and right plesant And wyse: thoughe that he be mad and ignorant

In his owne dedys is onely his delyte In his owne conceyte thynkynge hymself right wyse And fayre, thoughe he be yelowe as kyte Is of hir fete: yet doth he styll deuyse His vayne myrrour: that onely is his gyse And thoughe he beholde hym self of lothly shape He wyll it nat byleue, but in his glasse doth gape.

Though for his foly all men myght hym repreue And that he se it before hym openly Within his glasse: he wyll it nat byleue But strongly it defende and eke deny He seyth nat his erys longe and hye Whiche stande vpon his folysshe hode behynde His lewde conceyt thus makyth hym starke blynde

Whan people comon of men of hye prudence Or of hye beauty, and strength if men doth tell If one suche fole were there in the presence He swere durst boldly and that on the gospell That he onely all other dyd excell And that to gyue councell good and profytable Were none in the worldly vnto hym comparable

These folys bost them selfe of theyr wysdome And thynke them selfe to haue preemynence Aboue all other that ar in christendome. In gyftis of grace as beautye and scyence Of strength, gode maners, vertue, and eloquence But thoughe they stande in theyr owne conceytis Nought is saue foly within theyr folysshe patis

And thoughe theyr face and vysage stande awry And all to reuylde, theyr mouth standynge asyde Within theyr myrrour the same can they nat spye But in theyr foly contynually abyde And whether that they ar styll outher go or ryde Labour or be ydyll, they gase styll in theyr glasse Yet wyll they nat byleue to haue erys lyke an Asse.

Oft whan these folys lye in theyr bed vpright With tawny loke or els theyr botyll nose They haue theyr myrrour alway in theyr syght The vayne glasse (of theyr beautye) to apose And whan suche a fole into the kechyn gose To stere the pot, there whether he syt or stande The glasse alway is in the other hande

Whan he a whyle his glas hath loken than If one examynyd hym of his beautye He boldly durst swere both by god and man That nought were in hym whiche myght repreuyd be But all goodnes, fayre shape, and loke of grauyte And that his gere gayly vpon his backe doth syt He hardly is wyse: if he had any wyt.

I wryten fynde that great inconuenyence As losse, contempt and occasyon of pryde Hath fallyn vnto many by this lewde complacence Whiche haue nat knowen the way themself to gyde The emperour Otho had ay borne by his syde In warre and peas (a glasse) for his pleasaunce To se his colour therin; and countenaunce

And to the entent to make his colour gay With Assys mylke he noyntyd oft his skyn And shauyd his berde onys euery day But for that he offendyd god herein After was he sharply punysshyd for this syn And put vnto extreme rebuke and shame To gyue other example to auoyde the same

It is forsoth a maner femynyne And nat for man to be so elegant To suche toyes wanton wymen may inclyne A yonge mayde may at her forhede haue pendant The vayne myrrour to se hir shape pleasant Man sholde nought set by to norysshe his beautye But onely manhode strength and audacyte

The wanton mayde may for hir self ordayne Hir call hir coyfe, and suche conceytis newe As broches fyletes and oyntmentis souerayne And clothynge of dyuers colour and of hewe But nowe yonge men the same fourme do ensue And to content theyr mad and folysshe mynde To wymen they compare themselfe agaynst kynde

Disorder rayneth as I before haue sayde The yonge men takyth womans countenaunce And hir aparayll, and wymen ar arayde As men: agaynst all lawe and ordynaunce Thus man and woman ensue mysgouernaunce In theyr behauour is small dyuersyte Theyr owne conceyt causeth great enormyte

The poet Ouyde shewyth in a fable Howe that one callyd Pygmalyon by name A fygure made vnto hymselfe semblable Whiche he in marbyll right craftely dyd frame And in so moche he worshypped the same Tyll at the last his mynde was past and gone And he transformed so was in to that stone

And if the Poetis fables be all sure As by theyr subtyle wordes oft we here The childe Narcissus was chaungyd of fygure Whyle he behelde into the water clere For whyle his shadowe vnto hym dyd apere Vpon the same so sore he set his mynde That he transformyd was to another kynde.

But to retorne agayne to our purpose And of this sort of Folys to conclude If god sholde them to other shape transpose That thynke them fayre though they be foule and rude Into foule fassyon he many sholde include For whyle Folys theyr owne beauty magnyfy So growyth the nomber and so they multyply

THENUOY OF BARKLAY THE TRANSLATOUR.

Blynde man inclere thy wylfull ignoraunce Stande nat so great in thy owne conceyte Ne in thy lewde fassyon set nat thy pleasaunce Whether thou be pore or man of great estate Another man moche more shall in the wayte Of gode and yll than thou thy self canst do Therfore be nat cause to thy self of disceyte If one the teche: aply thy mynde therto

* * * * *

Of lepynges and dauncis and Folys that pas theyr tyme in suche vanyte.



Those folys a place may chalenge in my shyp Whiche voyde of wysdome as men out of theyr mynde Them selfe delyte to daunce to lepe and skyp In compase rennynge lyke to the worlde wyde In vnkynde labour, suche folys pleasour fynde Rennynge about in this theyr furyous vyce Lyke as it were in Bacchus sacryfyce

Or as the Druydans rennyth in vayne about In theyr mad festes vpon the hylle of yde Makynge theyr sacrafyce with furour noyse and shout Whan theyr madnes settyth theyr wyt asyde Or whan the prestis of mars all nyght abyde Within theyr temple by vse abhomynable To theyr ydollys doynge theyr seruyce detestable

Lyke as these paynyms hath to theyr ydols done Theyr sacryfyce wandrynge in theyr madnes Theyr bodyes weryenge, in vayne wastynge their shone So do these fowlys them selfe to daunsynge dres Sekynge occason of great vnhappynes They take suche labour without all hope of gayne Without rewarde sure, of werynes and payne

Say Folys that vse this fury and outrage What causyth you to haue delyte therin For your great labour say what is your wage Forsoth ye can therby no profyte wyn But seke occasyon (as I haue sayde) of syn And for thy werynge thy fete thus in the dust Thou gettest no gayne but cause of carnall lust

But whan I consyder of this folysshe game The firste begynnynge and cause orygynall I say the cause therof is worthy blame For whan the deuyll to disceyue man mortall And do contempt to the hye god eternall Vpon a stage had set a Calfe of golde. That euery man the same myght clere beholde

So than the Fende grounde of mysgouernaunce Causyd the people this fygure to honour As for theyr god and before the same to daunce. Whan they were dronkon, thus fell they in errour Of Idolatry, and forgate theyr creatour. Before this ydoll daunsynge both wyfe and man Dispysynge god: Thus daunsynge fyrst began

Suche blynde folyes and inconuenyence Engendryth great hurte and incommodyte And sawyth sede wherof groweth great offence The grounde of vyce and of all enormyte In it is pryde, fowle lust and lecherye And whyle lewde lepys ar vysd in the daunce Oft frowarde bargayns ar made by countenaunce

What els is daunsynge but euen a nurcery Or els a bayte to purchase and meyntayne In yonge hertis the vyle synne of rybawdry Them fe*trynge therin, as in a dedely chayne And to say trouth in wordes clere and playne Venereous people haue all theyr hole pleasaunce Theyr vyce to norysshe by this vnthryfty daunce

And wanton people disposyd vnto syn To satysfye theyr mad concupyscence With hasty cours vnto this daunsynge ryn To seke occasyon of vyle synne and offence And to expresse my mynde in short sentence This vyciouse game oft tymes doth attyse By his lewde synes, chast hartis vnto vyce

Than it in erth no game is more damnable It semyth no peas, but Batayle openly They that it vse of myndes seme vnstable As mad folke rennynge with clamour showt and cry What place is voyde of this furyous foly None: so that I dout within a whyle These folys the holy churche shall defyle

Of people what sort or order may we fynde Ryche or pore hye or lowe of name But by theyr folysshnes, and wanton mynde Of eche sort some ar gyuen vnto the same The prestis and clerkes to daunce haue no shame The frere or monke in his frocke and cowle Must daunce in his dortor lepynge to play the fole

To it comys children, maydes and wyues. And flaterynge yonge men to se to haue theyr pray The hande in hande great falshode oft contryues The olde quean also this madnes wyll assay And the olde dotarde thoughe he skantly may For age and lamenes stere outher fote or hande Yet playeth he the fole with other in the bande

Than lepe they about as folke past theyr mynde With madnes amasyd rennynge in compace He moste is commendyd that can moste lewdnes fynde Or can most quyckly ren about the place There ar all maners vsyd that lacke grace Mouynge theyr bodyes in synes full of shame Whiche doth theyr hertes to synne right sore inflame

So oft this vyce doth many one abuse That whan they ar departyd from the daunce On lust and synne contynually they muse Hauynge therin theyr wyll and theyr pleasaunce Than fall they oft to great mysgouernaunce As folys gyuyn to worke vnprofytable So in my shyp they well deserue a babyll.

THENUOY OF BARKLAY

Do way your daunces ye people moche vnwyse Desyst your folysshe pleasour of trauayle It is me thynke an vnwyse vse and gyse To take suche labour and payne without auayle And who that suspectyth his mayde or wyues tayle Let hym nat suffer them in the daunce to be For in that game thoughe sys or synke them fayle The dyse oft renneth vpon the chaunce of thre

* * * * *

Of nyght watchers and beters of the stretes playnge by nyght on instrumentes and vsynge lyke Folyes whan tyme is to rest.



Nowe wolde I of my boke haue made an ende And with my shyp drawen to some hauen or porte Stryken my sayle, and all my folys sende Vnto the londe, a whyle them selfe to sporte But this my purpose is lettyd by a sorte Of frantyke folys, wandrynge about by nyght For often all yll doers hatyth the day lyght

Whyle (man) beste and euery lyuely creature Refresshe theyr myndes and bodyes with rest And slepe: without the whiche none can endure And whyle all byrdes drawe them to theyr nest These dronken bandes of Folys than doth Jest About the stretis, with rumour noyse and cry Syngynge theyr folysshe songes of rybawdry

The furyes ferefull spronge of the flodes of hell Vexith these vagabundes in theyr myndes so That by no mean can they abyde ne dwell Within theyr howsys, but out they nede must go More wyldly wandrynge than outher bucke or doo Some with theyr harpis another with his lute Another with his bagpype or a folysshe flute

Than mesure they theyr songes of melody Before the dores of theyr lemman dere Yowlynge with theyr folysshe songe and cry So that theyr lemman may theyr great foly here And tyll the yordan make them stande arere Cast on theyr hede, or tyll the stonys fle They nat depart, but couet there styll to be

But yet more ouer these Folys ar so vnwyse That in colde wynter they vse the same madnes Whan all the howsys ar lade with snowe and yse O mad men amasyd vnstabyll and wytles What pleasour take ye in this your folysshenes What ioy haue ye to wander thus by nyght Saue that yll doers alway hate the lyght

But folysshe youth doth nat alone this vse Come of lowe byrth and sympyll of degre But also statis them selfe therein abuse With some yonge folys of the spiritualte The folysshe pype without all grauyte Doth eche degre call to this frantyke game The darkenes of nyght expellyth fere of shame

One barkyth another bletyth lyke a shepe Some rore, some countre, some theyr balades fayne Another from syngynge gyueth hym to wepe Whan his souerayne lady hath of hym dysdayne Or shyttyth hym out, and to be short and playne Who that of this sort best can play the knaue Lokyth of the other the maystery to haue

The folysshe husbonde oft of this sort is one With wanton youth wandrynge by nyght also Leuynge his wyfe at home in bed alone And gyueth hyr occasyon often to mysdo So that whyle he after the owle doth go Fedynge the Couko, his wyfe hir tyme doth watche Receyuynge another whose egges she doth hatche.

Therfore ye folys that knowe you of this sort To gyue occasyon of synne vnto your wyues And all other: I you pray and exort Of this your foly to amende your lyues For longe nyght watches seldome tymes thryues But if it be in labour: good to wyn Therfore kepe your dorys: els abyde within

Thoughe I have touchyd of this enormyte In englysshe tunge: yet is it nat so vsed In this Royalme as it is beyonde the se Yet moche we vse whiche ought to be refusyd Of great nyght watchynge we may nat be excusyd But our watchynge is in drunken glotony More than in syngynge or other meledy

Whan it is nyght and eche shulde drawe to rest Many of our folys great payne and watchynge take To proue maystryes and se who may drynke best Outher at the Tauerne of wyne, or the ale stake Other all nyght watchyth for theyr lemmans sake Standynge in corners lyke as it were a spye Whether that the weder be, hote, colde, wete, or dry

Some other Folys range about by nyght Prowdely Jettynge as men myndeles or wode To seke occasyon with pacyent men to fyght Delytynge them in shedynge mennys blode Outher els in spoylynge of other mennys gode Let these folys with suche lyke and semblable Drawe to this barge, here shall they here a bable

THENUOY OF BARCLAY.

Ye folys that put your bodyes vnto payne By nyghtly watchynge, voyde of auauntage Leue of your foly or els ye shall complayne And mourne it sore if ye lyue vnto age For though ye thynke that this your blynde outrage Is vnto you no hurte nor preiudyce It doth your body and goodes great dammage And great cause both to you and yours of vyce.

* * * * *

Of folysshe beggers and of theyr vanytees.



A great company of folys may we fynde Amonge beggers, whiche haue theyr hole delyte In theyr lewde craft: wherfore I set my mynde In this Barge theyr maners, brefely for to write For thoughe that nede them greuously do byte. Yet is theyr mynde for all theyr pouerte To kepe with them of children great plente

And though that they myght otherwyse well lyue And get theyr lyuynge by labour and besynes Yet fully they theyr myndes set and gyue To lede this lyfe alway in wretchydnes The clerke, frere, or monke, whiche hath store of ryches For all his lyfe. if he it gyde wysely. Wyll yet the beggers offyce occupy

Suche oft complayne the charge of pouerte In garmentis goynge raggyd and to rent But yet haue they of ryches great plente Whiche in gode vse can neuer of them be spent Almys is ordeyned by god omnypotent And holy churche: for to be gyuyn in dede Vnto good vse, and suche as haue moste nede

Almes is ordeyned by god our creatour For men that lyue in nede and wretchydnes Therwith their paynfull lyues to socour And nat for ryche that lyues in viciousnes But yet suche caytyfs boldly in dare pres For their lewde lyfe without all maner drede This almes takynge from them that haue most nede

The abbot, the Pryour, and also theyr couent Ar so blyndyd with vnhappy couetyse That with theyr owne can they nat be content But to haue more, they alway mean deuyse Ye: in so moche that some haue founde a gyse To fayne theyr bretherne tan in captyuyte That they may begge so by auctoryte

They fayne myracles where none were euer done And all for lucre: some other range about To gather and begge with some fayned pardon And at the alehows at nyght all drynkyth out So ren these beggers in company rowt By stretis tauernes townes and vyllagys No place can well be fre of theyr outragys

Some begge for byldynges, some for relyques newe Of holy sayntis of countreys farre and strange And with theyr wordes faynyd and vntrewe For cause of Lucre, about they ren and range But in a sympyll vyllage, ferme or grange Where as these beggers moste sympyll men may fynde With theyr fals bonys as relykes they them blynde

Other beynge stronge and full of lustynes And yonge ynoughe to labour for theyr fode Gyuyth theyr bodyes fully to slewthfulnes The beggers craft thynkynge to them moost good Some ray theyr legges and armys ouer with blood With leuys and plasters though they be hole and sounde Some halt as crypyls, theyr legge falsely vp bounde

Some other beggers falsly for the nonys Disfygure theyr children god wot vnhappely Manglynge theyr facys, and brekynge theyr bonys To stere the people to pety that passe by There stande they beggynge with tedyous shout and cry There owne bodyes tournynge to a strange fassion To moue suche as passe to pyte and compassyon

Suche yonge laddys as lusty ar of age Myghty and stronge, and wymen in lyke wyse Wanton and yonge and lusty of cowrage Gyueth them selfe vtterly to this gyse The cause is that they labour do despyse For theyr mynde is in ydylnes to be styll Or els in vyce to wander at theyr wyll

They paciently theyr prouertye abyde Nat for deuocion of herte or of mynde But to the intent that at euery tyde Other mennys godes sholde them fede and fynde. But if they a whyle haue ron in the wynde And in theyr hande the staf some hete hath caught They neuer after shall leue the beggers craft

Amonge these beggers also is comonly Braulynge debate hatered and chydynge Great othes, mockes falshode and enuy And one with other euer more fyghtynge As for theyr dronkennes and vnsure abydynge Theyr rebaudry both in dede and communycacion These ar chefe poyntis of theyr occupation

If the begger haue his staf and his hode One bagge behynde and another before Than thynkes he hym in the myddes of his goode Thoughe that his clothes be raggyd and to tore His body nere bare he hath no thought therfore And if some man cloth them well to day To morowe it shall agayne be solde away

And if these caytyfes fortune to begge or cry For mete or money, on woman or on man If one to them that, that they aske deny And so depart: anone these beggers than Whan he is gone, doth wary curse and ban And if another gyue them ought of pyte At the next alestake dronken shall it be

But if that I sholde gather in my barge All folysshe beggers, and labour or intende To note all theyr vyces, to sore sholde be the charge And as I suppose I neuer sholde make an ende. Wherfore I counsell them shortly to amende Or els theyr lewdnes, synne, and enormyte Shall cause men withdrawe theyr almes of charyte

THENUOY OF BARCLAY THE TRANSLATOUR.

O people vnthrifty gyuen to ydlenes Spendynge your youth this wyse in vanyte What ioy haue ye to lyue in wretchydnes Where ye myght come to better rowme and degre By worke, and labour: and so auaunsyd be Yet begge ye styll hauynge your ioy therin Amende your foly, and lerne ye this of me That goddes good sholde nat be spent in syn

Corrections made to printed original.

"He shalbe made parson of Honington or Clist." - 'mde' in original.

"a mistake as to identity" - 'indentity' in original.

"the executours of this my last Will" - 'th executours' in original.

"written p me" - 'writtenpnce' in original.

THE END