Into wildernesse I thinke best to go,
Sith I can no more tydings of him here,
There may I my life lede to and fro,
There may I dwel, and to no man apere,
To towne ne village woll I come nere,
Alone in woods, in rockes, and in caues deep,
I may at mine own wil both waile and weep.
Mine eyen twaine withouten variaunce
Shall neuer cease, I promise faithfully
Where to weepe with great aboundaunce,
Bitter teares renning incessauntly,
The which teares medled full petously,
With the very blood euer shall renne also,
Expressing in mine herte the greenous wo.
Worldly fode and sustenaunce I desire none,
Such liuing as I find soch woll I take,
Rootes that growen on the craggy stone,
Shall me suffice with water of the lake,
Than thus may I say for my lords sake,
Fuerunt mihi lachrymæ meæ
In deserto panes, die ac nocte.
My body to clothe it maketh no force,
A mourning mantel shal be sufficient,
The greuous woundes of his pitous corse,
Shal be to me a full royal garnement,
He departed thus I am best content,
His crosse with nailes and scourges withall,
Shal be my thought and paine speciall.
Thus wo! I liue as I haue here told,
If I may any long tyme endure,
But I fere death is ouer me so bold,
That of my purpose I can not be sure,
My paynes encrease without measure,
For of long lyfe who can lay any reason,
All thing is mortal and hath but a season.
I sigh full sore and it is ferre yfet,
Mine herte I feele now bledeth inwardly,
The blody teares I may in no wise let,
Sith of my paine I find no remedie,
I thanke God of all if I now die,
His will perfourmed I hold me content,
My soule let him haue that hath it me lent.
For lenger to endure it is intollerable,
My woful herte is inflamed so huge,
That no sorow to myne is comparable,
Sith of my mind I finde no refuge,
Yet I him require as rightful iudge,
To deuoide fro me the inwarde sorow,
Lest I liue not to the next morow.
Within mine herte is impressed full sore,
His royal forme, his shape, his semelines,
His porte, his chere, his goodnes euermore,
His noble persone with all gentilnes,
He is the well of all partfitnes,
The very redemer of all mankind,
Him loue I best with herte, soule, and mind.
In his absence my paynes full bitter be,
Right well I may it fele now inwardly,
No wonder is though they hurte or slee me,
They cause me to crie so rufully,
Mine herte oppressed is so wonderfully,
Onely for him which so is bright of blee,
Alas I trowe I shall him neuer see.
My joy is translate full farre in exile,
My mirth is chaunged into paynes cold,
My lyfe I thinke endureth but a while,
Anguish and payne is that I behold,
Wherfore my hands thus I wring and fold,
Into his graue I loke, I call, I pray,
Death remaineth, and life is borne away.
Now must I walke and wander here and there,
God wot to what partes I shall me dresse,
With quaking herte, weepyng many a tere,
To seek out my loue and all my sweetnes,
I wolde he wist what mortall heuines
About mine herte reneweth more and more,
Than wold he nat keepe pite long in store.
Without him I may not long endure,
His loue so sore worketh within my brest,
And euer I wepe before this sepulture,
Sighing full sore as mine herte should brest,
During my lyfe I shall obtayne no rest,
But mourne and wepe where that euer I go,
Making complaint of al my mortall wo.
Fast I crie but there is no audience,
My comming hider was him for to please,
My soule opprest is here with his absence,
Alas he list not to set mine herte in ease,
Wherefore to payne my self with al disease,
I shal not spare till he take me to grace,
Or els I shall sterue here in this place.
Ones if I might with him speake,
It were al my ioy, with parfite pleasaunce,
So that I might to him my herte breake,
I shuld anone deuoid al my greuaunce,
For he is the blisse of very recreaunce,
But now alas I can nothing do so,
For in steed of ioy naught haue I but wo.
His noble corse within mine hertes rote,
Deep is graued which shall neuer slake,
Now is he gone to what place I ne wote,
I mourne, wepe, and al is for his sake,
Sith he is past, here a vowe I make,
With hertely promise, and thereto I me bind,
Neuer to cease till I may him find.
Unto his mother I thinke for to go,
Of her haply some comfort may I take,
But one thing yet me feareth and no mo,
If I any mencion of him make,
Of my wordes she wold trimble and quake,
And who coud her blame she hauing but one,
The son borne away, the mother wol monie.
Sorowes many hath she suffred trewly,
Sith that she first conceived him and bare,
And seuen things there be most specially,
That drowneth her herte in sorrow and care,
Yet lo, in no wise may they compare,
With this one now, the which if she knew,
She wold her paines euerichone renew.
Great was her sorrow by mennes saying,
Whan in the temple Simeon Justus,
Shewing to her, these words prophesiyng,
Tuam animam pertransibit gladius,
Also whan Herode that tyrant furious,
Her childe pursued in euery place,
For his life went neither mercy ne grace.
My soule for anguish is now full thursty,
I faint right sore for heauinesse,
My lord, my spouse, Cur me dereliquisti ?
Sith I for thee suffer all this distresse,
What causeth thee to seeme thus mercilesse,
Sith it thee pleaseth of me to make an end,
(In Manus tuas) my spirit I commend.
SEEING the manifo'de inconuenience
Falling by vnbrideled prosperitie,
Which is not tempred with mortal prudence,
Nothing more wealthy than youths freeltie,
Moued I am, both of right and equitie,
To youths wele somewhat to write
Whereby he may himselfe safecondite.
First I note, as thing most noyous
Unto youth a greeuons maladie,
Among us called loue encombrous,
Uexing yong people strauugelie,
Oft by force causeth hem to die,
Age is eke turmented by loue,
Bineath the girdle, and not aboue.
Wherfore this werk, which is right laborous
For age me need nat in hond to take,
To youth me oweth to be obsequious,
Now I begin thus to worke for his sake,
Which may the feruence of loue aslake
To the louer, as a mitigatiue,
To him that is none a preseruatiue.
That mighty lord which me gouerneth,
Youth I meane, measure if I pace
In euery matter which him concerneth,
First, as is behouefull, I woll aske grace,
And forthwithall in this same place,
Ere I begin, I woll kneel and sa
These few words, and him of helpe pray.
"Flouring youth, which hast auauntage
In strength of body, in lust and beaute,
Also a precelling hast aboue age
In many a singular commodite,
Howbeit, one thing he hath beyond thee,
To thy most profite and greatest auaile,
Which shuld the conduit, I mean sad counsaile.
"And yet good lord, of a presumption,
I nill depraue thy might and deitie,
I liue but vnder thy protection,
I am thy subiect, I weare thy liuerie,
For thou art ground of my prosperite,
And freshest floure of all my garland,
My singular aid, as I well vnderstand.
"But as he that oweth his lord best seruise,
And entire faith, his honour to support,
Right so I speake, and in none other wise,
I knowledge my selfe one of the least sort
Of thy seruaunts, to our elders comfort,
Draw sad counsaile to thee if thou list,
Thee and thy power, who may than resist."
"Fe on age, vnder words few,
And his erronions opinion,
What spekest of him, which saith most vntrue,
All youth to be of ill dispositioun,
Dampneth vs all without exceptioun,
And for a colerable auauntage,
He saith in him resteth counsaile sage.
"Well may sad counsaile in him rest,
But yet his deeds ben ferre therefro,
He may say with our parish priest,
'Do as I say, but not as I do,'
For I my selfe know one or two,
Well striken in age, for neighbourhed
Woll to their neighbours wiues bed.
"He will in presence of the young man
Her clippe and kisse, ye and doune lay,
To bleare his eye, thus be saieth than,
'O suffer ye old Morel to play,
Now haue I doen that I can or may,'
Thus he saieth her husband to queme,
That he nor no man should not misdeme.
"In word nor deed nedeth him not be coy,
It is impossible that he doe amisse,
If the yong man speake, anone he saith, Boy,
To rebuke age, beseemeth thee not iwis,'
Thus his old face aye his warrant is,
All is in him sleight and subtiltee,
And ferre from reason I tell thee.
"And shortly age is not aboue me,
Age is impotent, and of no resistence,
Age vnweldie may not fight nor flee,
What were age, without my defence
(Sad counsaile saist thou giueth him assistance)
Reason is freshest where that I am,
Wherefore in thy saying thou art to blame.
"Sith reason to me is rather accompanied
Than vnto age, whith is the opinion
Of euery wise man not to be denied,
And sith sad counsaile proceedeth of reason,
Sad counsaile in me hath his cheef mansion,
This is no nay, but what is the end
Of this thy suasion, what doest entend."
"Age to compare vnto thine excellence,
I nill presume him so to dignifie,
Ye be not egall, howbeit experience
Him auauntageth, for she most certainly,
Him teacheth what thing to him is contrary,
And oft to foresee it, and warely eschew
Which thou neuer assaidest yet nor knew.
"Experience maketh a man most certaine
Of any thing yearthly, and of necessite,
Sad counsaile requireth certaintie plaine,
So férre to moue thus whereto need we
But to my purpose, as thou commandest me,
Shortly mine entent is thus, and none other,
Under thy license to counsaile my brother."
"How shuldest thou giue any counsail so yong.
Lacking experience vnto thine owne speach,
I report me, I wote well as for thy tong
Wil serue thee right wel, but than for to teach,
I doubt me lest that thy wit woll not reach,
Youth and experience thou saist be not conuert,
How shouldest thou than teach well vnexpert."
"Scripture witnesseth, that God will oft shitte
Fro the hie witted man, and shew it to the child,
To him I meane that of his own witte
Presumeth not, but is debonaire and mild,
By counsaile I entend vertue for to bild,
Which of mine elders part haue I borowed,
And part of experience, which I haue sorowed."
"Wel than, if it be as thou lettest fare,
Shew forth thy doctrine, be not agast,
I woll thee support, looke thou not spare,
Maugre age, though he frete or gnast,
To aske age counsaile herein, were but wast,
Boldely begin, go forth to the processe,
Feare not sith thou art of such surenesse."
"Graunt mercie lord, sith it thee doeth like
To license me, now I woll dare boldly
Assail my purpose, with scriptures autentike,
My werke woll I ground, vnderset, and fortefie,
Aspire my beginning, O thou wood furie,
Alecto, with thy susters, and in especiall
To the mother of ielousie Juno I call."
This book, drawn for the most part out of the Proverbs of Solomon, is a warning to take heed of the deceitful company of women.
THIS werke who so shall see or rede,
Of any incongruitie do me not impeche,
Ordinately behoueth me first to procede
In deduction thereof, in manner as the leche
His patients siknesse oweth first for to seche,
The which known, medicin he should applie,
And shortly as he can, than shape a remedie.
Right so by counsaile, willing thee to exhort,
O yong man prosperous, which doth abound
In thy floures of lust belongeth on thee sort,
Me first to consider what is root and ground
Of thy mischeefe, which is plainly found,
Woman farced with fraud and deceit,
To thy confusion most allectiue bait.
Fly the miswoman, least she thee deceiue,
Thus saith Salomon, which taught was fully
The falshed of women in his days to conceiue,
The lips of a strumpet ben sweeter than hony,
Her throte he saith soupled with oil of flatery,
Howbeit, the end and effect of all
Bitterer is than any wormwood or gall.
Fly the miswoman, louing thy life,
Ware the straungers bland eloquence,
Straunge I call her that is not thy wife,
Of her beauty haue no concupiscence,
Her countenance pretending beneuolence,
Beware her signes, and eye so amiable,
Hold it for ferme, they ben deceiuable.
Lo an ensample what women be
In their signes and countenaunce shortly,
I woll shew thee how louers three
Loued one woman right entirely,
Ech of them knew others maladie,
Wherefore was all their daily labour,
Who coud approch next in her fauour.
At sundry seasons, as fortune requireth,
Seuerally they came to see her welfare,
But ones it happened, loue them so fireth,
To see their lady they all would not spare,
Of others coming none of them were ware,
Till all they mette, whereas they in place
Of hir lady saw the desired face.
To supper set, full smally they eat,
Full sober and demure in countenaunce,
For there taried none of hem for any meat,
But on his lady to giue attendaunce,
And in secret wise some signifiaunce
Of loue to haue, which perceiuing she,
Fetely executed thus her properte.
In due season, as she alway espied
Euery thing to execute conueniently,
Her one louer first friendly she eied,
The second she offred the cup courtesly,
The third she gaue token secretly,
Underneath the bord she trade on his foot,
Through his entrailes tikled the herte root.
By your leaue, might I here ask a question
Of you my maisters, that sewe loues trace,
To you likely belongeth the solution,
Which of these three stood now in grace?
Clerely to answere ye would ask long space,
The inatter is doubtfull and opinable,
To acertaine you I woll my selfe enable.
Of the foresaid three my selfe was one,
No man can answere it better than I,
Hertely of vs beloued was there none,
But Wattes packe we bare all by and by,
Which at last I my selfe gan aspie,
In time as me thought than I left the daunce,
O thoughtfull herte, great is thy greuaunce.
Hence fro me hence, that me for to endite
Halpe aye here afore, O ye Muses nine,
Whilom ye were wont to be mine aid and light,
My penne to direct, my braine to illumine,
No lenger alas may I sewe your doctrine,
The fresh lustie metres, that I wont to make
Haue been here afore, I vtterly forsake.
Come hither thou Hermes, and ye furies all,
Which fer ben vnder vs, nigh the nether pole,
Where Pluto reigneth, O king infernall,
Send out thine arpies, send Anguish and Dole,
Miserie and Wo, leaue ye me not sole,
Of right be present must Pain and eke Turment,
The pale Death beseemeth not to be absent.
To me now I call all this lothsome sort,
My pains t'encrease, my sorows to augment,
For worthie I am to be bare of all comfort,
Thus sith I haue consumed and mispent
Not only my days, but my 5 fold talent,
That my Lord committed me, I can't recompence
I may not too derely abie my negligence.
By the path of penaunce yet woll I reuert
To the well of grace, mercy there to fetch,
Despisest not God the meeke contrite herte
Of the cock crow, alas that I would not retch,
And yet it is not late in the second wetch,
Mercy shall I purchase by incessaunt crying,
The mercies of our Lord euer shall I sing.
But well maist thou wail wicked woman,
That thou shuldest deceiue thus any innocent
And in recompence of my sinne, so as I can,
To al men wol I make and leue this monument,
In shewing part of thy falshed is mine entent,
For all were too much, I cannot well I wote,
The cause she weth plainly he that thus wrote.
If all the yearth were parchment scribable,
Speedie for the hand, and all manner wood
Were hewed and proportioned to pens able,
All water inke, in damme or in flood,
Euery man being a parfit scribe and good,
The cursednesse yet and deceit of women
Coud not be shewed by the meane of pen.
I flie all odious resemblaunces,
The deuils brond call women I might,
Whereby man is encensed to mischaunces,
Or a stinking rose that faire is in sight,
Or deadly empoyson, like that sugar white,
Which by his sweetnesse causeth man to tast,
And sodainly sleeth and bringeth him to his last.
It is not my manner to vse such language,
But this my doctrine, as I may lawfully,
I woll holly ground with authoritie sage,
Willing both wisedome, and vertue edifie,
Wine and women into apostasie,
Cause wisemen to fall, what is that to say,
Of wisedome cause them to forget the way.
Wherefore the wiseman doth thee aduise,
In whose words can be found no leasing,
With the straunger to sit in no wise,
Which is not thy wife, fall not in clipping
With her, but beware eke of her kissing,
Keep with her in wine no altercation,
Least that thine herte fall by inclination.
May a man thinkest hide and safe lay
Fire in his bosome, without empairement,
And brenning of his clothes? or whider he may
Walke on hote coles, his feet not brent?
As who saith nay, and whereby is ment
This foresaid prouerbe and similitude,
But that thou ridde thee plainly to denude.
From the flatterers forgetting her gide,
The gide of her youth, I mean Shamefastnes,
Which shuld cause her maidenhead to abide,
Her Gods behest eke she full recheles,
Not retching, committeth it to forgetfulnes,
Neither God ne shame in her hauing place,
Needs must such a woman lacke grace.
And all that neigh her in way of sinne
To tourne, of grace shall lacke the influence,
The pathes of life no more to come in,
Wherefore first friend thee with Sapience,
Remembring God, and after with Prudence,
To thine owne weale that they thee keepe,
Unto thine herte least her words creepe.
In his book where I take my most ground,
And in his prouerbes, sage Salomon
Telleth a tale, which is plainly found
In the fifth chapiter, whider in deed don,
Or meekely feined to our instruction,
Let clerkes determine, but this am I sure,
Much like thing I haue had in vre.
"At my window" saith he "I looked out,
Fair yong people, where I saw many,
Among hem all, as I looked about,
To a yong man fortuned I lent mine eye,
Estraunged from his mind it was likely,
By the street at a corner nigh his own hous,
He went about with eye right curious.
"Whan that the day his light gan withdraw,
And the night approched in the twilight,
How a woman came and met him I saw,
Talking with him vnder shade of the night,
'Now blessed be God' (quod she) of his might,
Which hath fulfilled mine hertes desire,
Aslaked my paines, which were hote as fire.'"
And yet mine authour, as it is skill,
To follow, I must tell her arrayment,
She was full nice, soules like to spill,
As nice in countenaunce yet as in garment,
For jangling she was of rest impatient,
Wandring still, in no place she stode,
But restlesse now, and now out she yode.
Now in the house, now in the strete,
Now at a corner she standeth in await,
Incessauntly busie her pray for to gete,
To bring to the lure whom she doth lait.
Now where I left, vnto my matter strait
I woll tourne againe, how she him mette,
Sweetly kissed, and friendly hem grette.
With words of curtesie many and diuerse,
Right as in part I haue before told,
Now as I can, I purpose to reherse,
How she flattering said with visage bold,
"I haue made vowes and offerings manifold
For thy sake, O mine herte, O my loue dere,
This day I thanke God all performed were.
"Therefore I came out, and made thus astart, Uery desirous your welfare to see,
Now I haue seene you, pleased is mine herte,
In faith shall none haue my loue but ye,
As true as I am to you, be to me,
I pray you hertely dere herte come home,
No man should be to me so welcome.
"And in good faith, the sooth for to say,
Your comming to me ran in my thought,
Herke in your eare, my bed fresh and gay,
I haue behanged with tapettes new bought,
From Egipt, and from far countries brought,
Steined with many a lustie fresh hue,
Exceeding gold or jasper in value.
"My chamber is strowed with mirre and insence,
With sote sauoring aloes, and with sinamome,
Breathing an aromatike redolence,
Surmounting olibane, in any mans dome,
Ye shall betweene my breasts rest if ye come,
Let vs haue our desired halsing,
For we may safe be till in the morning.
"Mine husband is not at home, he is went
Forth in his journey, a farre way hence,
A bagge with money he hath with him hent,
As him thought needfull for his expence,
Unto my word giue faith and credence,
Now is the Moone yong, and of light dull,
Ere he come home, it woll be at the full."
Thus craftely hath she him besette
With her lime roddes, panter, and snare,
The selie soule caught in her nette,
Of her sugred mouth alas nothing ware,
Thus is he left gracelesse and bare
Of helpe, comfort, and ghostly succour,
And furthermore, as saith mine authour.
As a beast led to his death, doth pant,
This yong man followeth her in that stound,
And as a wanton lambe full ignorant,
How he is pulled and drawen to be bound,
Unto the time he hath his deaths wound,
And like a bird that hasteth to the grin,
Not knowing the perill of his life therein.
"Now gentle sonne," saith Salomon, "take hede
My words in thy breast keepe and make fast,
Let her not thy mind in her waies mislede,
Be not deceiued, lese not thy tast,
Many bath she wounded, many doune cast,
Many strong by her hath lost their breath,
Her waies, waies of hell leading to death."
And in this little narration precedent,
The womans manifold gilt I attend,
The yong man alas how she hath shent,
Deceived her husband, her own next friend,
In these both, her God she doth offend,
To break her spousail, to her is of no weight.
Furdermore to shew womans craft and sleight;
A woman at her dore sate on a stall,
To see folke passe by streets of the cite,
With eye and countenance eke she gan call,
"If there be any prety one come nere to me,
Come hither ye piggesnye, ye little babe,"
At last she said to a yong man hertelesse,
Of her deceit vnware and defencelesse:
"Much sweeter" she saith, "more acceptable
Is drinke, whan it is stollen priuely,
Than whan it is taken in forme auowable:
Bread hid and gotten jeoperdously,
Must needs be sweet, and semblably,
Uenison stolne is aye the sweeter,
The ferther the narrower fet the better."
And whom this woman (saith Salomon) festes,
The yong man woteth not whom she doth fede,
Of the dark deepnesse of hell ben her ghests,
Beware yong man therefore I thee rede,
And how be it cheefly for thy good spede,
This werk to compile I haue take in charge,
I must of pity my charity enlarge.
With the selie man which is thus begiled,
Her husband I mean, I woll wepe and waite
His painfull infortune, whereby reuiled
Causelesse he is, neuer to conuaile,
Euery man yong and old woll him assaile
With words of occasion, with the loth name,
And alas good soule, he nothing to blame.
But she that coud so ill do and wold,
Hers be the blame for her demerite,
And leaue that opprobrous name cokold,
To a proper to him as in dispite,
Ransake yet we would if we might,
Of this worde the true ortographie,
The very discent and ethimologie.
The well and ground of the first inuencion,
To know the ortographie we must deriue,
Which is coke and cold, in composicion,
By reason, as nigh as I can contriue,
Than how it is written we know beliure,
But yet lo, by what reason and ground,
Was it of these two wordes compound.
As of one cause to giue very judgement,
Themilogie let vs first behold:
Eche letter an hole word doth represent,
As C, put for colde, and O, for old,
K, is for knaue, thus diuers men hold,
The first parte of this name we haue found,
Let vs ethimologise the second.
As the first finder ment I am sure,
C, for calot, for of, we haue O,
L, for leude, D, for demeanure,
The craft of the enuentour ye may see lo,
How one name signifieth persones two,
A colde old knaue, cokold himselfe wening,
And eke a calot of leude demeaning.
The second cause of thimposicion,
Of this foresaid name of jelousie,
To be jelouse is greatest occasion
To be cokold, that men can aspie,
And though the passion be very firie,
And of continuell feruence and heete,
The pacient aye suffreth cold on his feete.
And who that is jelous, and aye in a drede,
Is full of melancolie and gallie ire,
His wiues nose (if she misse trede,)
He woll cut off, ye and conspire
His death who that woll her desire:
Which she perceiuing brasteth his gall,
And anone his great woodnesse doth fall.
As soone as she hath knit him that knot,
Now is he tame that was so ramagious,
Mekely sitteth he doune and taketh his lot,
Layed been now his lookes so furious,
And he but late as a cocke bataylous,
Hote in his quarell, to auenge him bold,
Now is he called both coke and cold.
This saying, to all curtesie dissonant,
Which seemeth that it of malice grewe,
In this rude treatise I woll not plant,
As parcell thereof, but onely to shewe,
The opinion of the talcatife shrewe,
Which in ill saying is euer merie,
No man as I thereof so werie.
But I as parcell of this my booke,
Woll graffe in some sad counsaile whereby,
The wedded man, if he daigne looke
In it, the better shall mowe him gie,
And prouide for his said infortunie,
Which as I haue said, with him complaine
I woll, as partener of his great paine.
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