The Ship of Fools, Volume 1-2 by Sebastian Brant (love story books to read .txt) 📖

styll payne, this is a short penaunce

Wherfore correct thy selfe whyle thou art here.

 

*

 

Of folysshe Fesycyans and vnlerned that

onely folowe paractyke knowynge nought

of the speculacyon of theyr faculte.

 

[Illustration: Who that assayeth the craft of medycyne

Agaynst the seke and paynfull pacyent

And hath no insyght cunnynge nor doctryne

To gyue the seke, helth and amendement

Suche is a fole, and of a mad intent

To take on hym by Phesyke any cure

Nat knowynge of man, nor herbe the right nature]

 

Yet be mo folys vpon the grounde and londe

Whiche in our Shyp may clayme a rowme and place

Suche be Phesycians that no thynge vnderstonde

Wandrynge about in euery towne and place

Uysytynge the seke whiche lyue in heuy case

But nought they relefe of those paynes harde

But gape alway after some great rewarde

 

Suche that haue practyse and nought of speculatyfe

Whan they go vysyte some paynfull pacyent

Whan they hym note sure to forgo his lyfe

Without all hope of any amendement

Yet say they other than is in theyr intent

That his diseas is no thynge incurable

So that the pacyent to hym be agreable

 

Sayth the Phesycyan whan he hath his rewarde

Abyde a whyle tyll I my bokes ouer se

Wherby I may relyue thy paynes harde

Than from the pacyent homewarde departyth he

To se his bokes but if the pacyent dye

In that meane space the medycyne is to late

So may he lay it to his owne folysshe pate

 

The speculacion sholde he before haue sene

For that in Phesyke is chefe and pryncypall,

Yet many ar that vse the craft I wene

Whiche of the cunnynge knowe lytell or nought at all

A herbe or wede that groweth vpon a wall

Beryth in it these folys medycyne.

None other bokes haue they nor doctryne

 

Nor none they rede to haue the true scyence

Or perfyte knowlege and grounde of medycyne

They rede no volumes of the experyence

Of Podalirius nor Mesues doctryne

Suche folys disdayne theyr myndes to enclyne

Unto the doctryne of bokes of Auycen

Of ypocras and parfyte galyen

 

But all the substance of theyr blynde faculte

They take in bokes that speke of herbes only

Without respect had to theyr properte

Or operacion so often they them aply

To fals doctrynes, but first and specyally

These olde wyues therwith wyll haue to do

Thoughe they nought knowe that doth belonge therto

 

They dare be bolde to take on them the cure

Of them diseasyd howe be it that they nat can

Suche thynge descerne as longyth to nature

What is for woman good, and what for man

So oft they ende moche wors than they began

That the pore pacyent is so brought to his graue

Yet dyuers suters suche folysshe wytches haue

 

Suche wytches boldly dare afferme and say

That with one herbe they hele can euery sore

Under euery syne plenete, houre and day

Yet besyde this they boldly dare say more

That it that helyth a man aged and hore

Shall helpe also a woman or a childe

Thus many thousandes oft ar by them begyled

 

They say also in this our charge or cure

What nedes it note the synes or fyrmament

The cause of thynges, or the strength of nature

Whether that the seke be stronge or impotent

They gyue one medesyn to euery pacyent

And if it fortune it be to colde or warme

The faythles wytche in hande goth with hir scharme

 

Say folysshe Surgyan by what experyence

Or whose Doctryne discyplyne or lore

Takest thou on the, nought knowynge of scyence

With one Salue or plaster, to heale euery sore

Yet so thou thynkest, I the compare therfore

Unto a lawyer that of his craft nought can

And yet presumeth to counsell euery man

 

A lawer and a Phesician ar both lyke

Of theyr condicion and both insue one trayne

The one begylyth the pacyent and seke

Takynge his god for to encreas his payne

The other labours and cauteles oft doth fayne

To clawe the coyne by craft from his clyent

Castynge hym of whan all his good is spent

 

Thus thryues the lawer by anothers good

Iniustly gotten, disceyuynge his clyent

Also some other ar callyd Phesicians good

Whiche vtterly disceyue the pacyent

If he haue money than hath he his intent

And if the seke haue store ynough to pay

Than shall the cure be dryuen from day to day

 

So if the lawer may any auauntage wyn

He shall the cause from terme to terme defarre

The playntyf for a player is holde in.

With the defendaunt kepynge open warre

So laweyers and Phesicians thousandes do marre

And whan they no more can of theyr suers haue

The playntyf beggyth, the seke is borne to graue

 

But of these lawyers bycause I spoke before

Of folysshe Phesicians here onely I intende.

Somwhat to say: And of lawers no more

On you Phesicians shall I conclude and ende

I say no man may hym so well defende

That he for murder may auoyde punysshement

Yet may Phesicians, sleynge the pacient

 

Thus thou that of Phesycian hast the name

If thou nought knowe of perfyte medycyne

It is forsoth to thy rebuke and shame

To boste the scyence: nat hauynge the doctryne

Therfore I counsell that thou thy mynde inclyne

To haue the cunnynge, els certaynly thou shall

Haue thy blynde craft and lyue a fole with all.

 

THE ENUOY OF THE TRASLATOUR.

 

Thou blynde Phesician that of thy craft nought can

Leue of thy lewdnes and bolde audacyte

To take on the: the cure of chylde or man

For by thy foly the wors myght they be

And ye that suerly perceyue your faculte

Be true therin, and auaryce from you cast

Shame is to brynge a man to pouertye

And than in paynes to leue hym at the last

 

*

 

Of the ende of worldly honour and power

and of Folys that trust therein.

 

[Illustration: On erth was neuer degre so excellent

Nor man so myghty: in ryches nor scyence

But at the ende all hath ben gone and spent

Agaynst the same no man can make defence

Deth all thynge drawyth, ferefull is his presence,

It is last ende of euery thynge mundayne

Thus mannys fortune of cours is vncertayne]

 

O creatures of myndes mad and blynde

I wonder of your hertis proude and eleuate

Whiche on vayne power set so sore your mynde

And trust so moche to your vnsure estate

As of your lyfe were neyther yere nor date

To worldly worshyp ye stedfastly intende

As if your lyfe sholde neuer more come to ende

 

Alway ye labour to come to dignyte

And oft by falshode your power to augment

Alas fewe ar content with theyr degre

But by extorcion spoyle the pore innocent

On worldly treasour so set is theyr intent

And styll to honour as besely to ascende

As if theyr lyfe sholde neuer more come to ende

 

Take thou example by Julius cesar

That of the worlde durynge a whyle was sure

And many kynges subduyd by myght of warre

And of the Empyre had lordshyp charge cure

But this his myght great space dyd nat endure

And whyle he trustyd yet hyer to ascende

By cruell deth he soon came to his ende

 

Right in lyke wyse the myghty Darius

Was kynge of Persy a realme moche excellent

Yet was his mynde so greatly couetus

That with the same helde he hym nat content

But warred on other Royalmes adiacent

So whan his myght coude nat therto extende

His owne Royalme he loste and so came to his ende

 

And also Xerxes in ryches abundant

Was longe in peas and great tranquyllyte

And in his Royalme was hye and tryumphant

As longe as he was content with his degre

Than had he pleasour and great felycyte.

To assay by warre his kyngdome to amende

But all he lost and so came to his ende

 

Whyle Nabugodonosor kynge of Babylone

In vnsure fortune set to great confydence

Commaundynge honour vnto hym to be done

As vnto god: with all humble reuerence,

God by his power and hye magnyfycence

Made hym a beste, for that he dyd offende

And so in proces of tyme came to his ende

 

Alexander the great and myghty conquerour

To whome all the worlde scantly myght suffyse

Of Grece was the origynall lorde and Emperour

And all the worlde subdued as I surmyse

Yet hath he done as is the comon gyse

Left all behynde, for nought coude hym defende

But as a symple man at the last came to his ende

 

The myghty Cresus with his kyngdomes and store

Of golde and ryches hym selfe coude nat content

But whyle he trustyd and laboured for more

Fortune hym fayled: So lost he his intent.

What shall I wryte of Cyrus excellent

Drynkynge his blode by deth whiche fortune sende

To here of states the comon deth and ende

 

All kyngdomes dekay and all estate mundayne

Example of Rome Cartago and Mycene

Of Solyme Tyre grace and Troy moste souerayne

None of these places ar nowe as they haue ben

Nor none other ouer the worlde as I wene

Thus shortly to speke and all to comprehende

All worldly thynges at last shall haue an ende.

 

THE ENOUY OF BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS.

 

O man that hast thy trust and confydence

Fyxed on these frayle fantasyes mundayne

Remember at the ende there is no difference

Bytwene that man that lyued hath in payne

And hym that hath in welth and ioy souerayne

They both must dye their payne is of one sort

Both ryche and pore, no man can deth refrayne

For dethes dart expellyth all confort

 

Say where is Adam the fyrst progenytour

Of all mankynde is he nat dede and gone

And where is Abell of innocence the flour

With adamys other sonnes euerychone

A: dredfull deth of them hath left nat one

Where is Mathusalem, and Tuball that was playne

The first that played on Harpe or on Orgone

Ilz sont tous mortz ce monde est choce vayne

 

Where is iust Noy and his ofsprynge become

Where is Abraham and all his progeny

As Isaac and Jacob, no strength nor wysdome

Coude them ensure to lyue contynually

Where is kynge Dauyd whome god dyd magnyfy

And Salomon his son of wysdome souerayne

Where ar his sonnes of wysdome and beauty

Ilz sont toutz mortz ce monde est choce vayne.

 

Where ar the prynces and kynges of Babylon

And also of Jude and kynges of Israell

Where is the myghty and valiant Sampson

He had no place in this lyfe ay to dwell

Where ar the Prynces myghty and cruell

That rayned before Christ delyuered vs from payne

And from the Dongeons of darke and ferefull hell

Ilz sont toutz mortz ce monde est choce vayne.

 

Of worldly worsyp no man can hym assure

In this our age whiche is the last of all

No creature can here alway endure

Yonge nor olde, pore man nor kynge royall

Unstable fortune tourneth as doth a ball

And they that ones pas can nat retourne agayne

Wherfore I boldly dare speke in generall

We all shall dye: ce monde est choce vayne.

 

Ryches nor wysdome can none therfro defende

Ne in his strength no man can hym assure

Say where is Tully is he nat come to ende

Seneke the sage with Cato and Arture

The hye Arystotyll of godly wyt and pure

The glorious Godfray, and myghty Charlemayne

Thoughe of theyr