The Ship of Fools, Volume 1-2 by Sebastian Brant (love story books to read .txt) 📖
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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.
[Illustration: We haue ouercome the malyce and enuy
Of suche as agaynst our Nauy did conspyre
Wherfore I shall my folys call quyckly
That they my Shyp may aparayle and atyre
Drawe nere ye Folys whiche syttynge by the fyre
Loke ay in a glasse to se your countenaunce
And in your owne dedis haue all your hole pleasaunce]
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.
[Illustration: That fole that settyth his felycyte
In wanton daunces and lepes immoderate
Hath in my Shyp a rowme for his degre
Bysyde the stere for troublynge of his pate
He god dyspleasyth, whiche doth suche foly hate
Suche lese theyr tyme in vayne and oft therin
Ar many hurtis:
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