Skelton Laureate against a comely Coystrowne that curyowsly chanted And curryshly cowntted madly in his Musyakies mokkyshly made/ Against the ix muses of politic Poems & poets matryculat.  

Arboris omne genus viridi concedis de lauro.   

of all nations under the heaven.  
These frantic fools I hate most of all.  
For though they stumble in the sins seven.  
In pevyshnes yet the snapper and fall.  
which men the. viii. deadly sin call.  
This peevish proud this prender guessed.  
when he is well yet can he not rest.   

¶ A sweet sugar loaf & sour bayardys' bun  
Are sumdele like in form & shap.  
The one for a duke the other for dun.  
A manchet for morel thereon to snap.  
Dys heart is to hy to have any hap.  
But for in his gam ut carp that he can.  
Lo Jack would be a jentylman   

¶ with hay troly loly lo whip here Jack.  
Alumbek sodyldym syllorym been.  
Curyowsly he can both counter & knak  
Of Martin swart & all his merry men.  
Lord how perkyn is proud of his Pohen.  
But ask where he fyndyth among his monacordies.  
An holy water clerk a ruler of lords.   

¶ He can not find it in rule nor in space.  
He solfyth to haute his Trybyll is to high.  
He braggyth of his birth that borne was full base  
His music without measure to sharp is his mies.  
he trymmyth in his tenor to counter pyrdewy.  
his dyscant is busy it is without a mean.  
To fat is his fantsy his wit is to lean.   

¶ He lumbryth on a lewd lewte roty bully Joy.  
Rumbyll down tumbyll down hay go now now.  
He fumblyth in his fingering an ugly good noise.  
It seemeth the sobbing of an old sow.  
He would be made much of & he wist how.  
weal sped In spyndels and turnyug of tavellies,  
A bungler a brawler a pyker of quarrels.   

¶ Comely he clappyth a pair of clavycordies.  
he whystelyth so sweetly he maketh me to sweet.  
his descant is dashed full of discords  
A red angry man but easy to entreat.  
An usher of the hall fain would I get.  
To point this proud page a place and a room  
For Jack would be a jentylman that late was a groom   

¶ Jack would jet and yet jyll said nay.  
he counteth in his countenance to check with the best.  
A malapert meddler that prieth for his prey  
In a dish dare he rush at the ripest.  
Dreaming in dumpies to wrangyll & to wrest.  
he findeth a proportion in his prick song.  
To drink at a draft a large & a long   

¶ Nay jape not with him he is no small fool  
It is a solemn sire and a solayne.  
For lords and ladies learn at his school  
he teacheth them so wisely to solf and to fain  
That neither they sing well prick song nor plain  
This doctor devyas commanded in a cart.  
A master a minstrel a fydler a a fart   

¶ what though ye can cownter Custodinos.  
As well it become you a parish town Clarke.  
To sing Suspitati dedit Egros.  
yet bear ye not to bold to brawl ne to bark.  
At me/ that medeled nothing with your wark.  
Correct first thyself/ walk & be nought.  
deem what thou list thou knowest not my thought.   

¶ A proverb of old say well or be still.  
ye are to unhappy occasions to find.  
Upon me to clater or else to say ill.  
Now have I showed you part of your proud mind  
Take this in worth the best is behind.  
written at Croyden by Crowland in the Clay.  
On Candelmas even the Kalendas of May.   
finis.   

¶ Contra alium Cantitatem & Organisantem Asinum/ qui impugnabat Skeltonida pietium. Sarcasmos.  
¶ Preponenda meis non sunt tua plectra camenis.  
Nec quantum nostra fistula clara tua est.  
Se ne licet liricos modularis arundina psalmos.  
Et tremulos calamis concinis ipse modos.  
Quamuis mill tuus digitus dat carmine plausus.  
Nam tua quam tua vox est mage docta manus.  
Quamuis cuncta facis tumida sub mente superb.  
Gratior est Phoebo fistula nostra tamen.  
Ergo tuum studeas Animo deponere fastum.  
Et violare sacrum-Desine/ Stulte/ virum.  
Qd Skelton laureate.   

¶ Skelton Laureate upon a deed man's head that was sent to him from an honourable gentle woman for a token devised this ghostly meditation in English Covenable in sentence Commendable/ Lamentable/ Lacrymable/ Profitable for the soul.  
¶ your ugly token.  
My mind hath broken.  
From worldly lust.  
For I have dyscust.  
we are but dust.  
And die we must.  
¶ It is general.  
To be mortal.  
I have well espied.  
No man may him hide.  
From death hollow eyed.  
with sin was wyderyd.  
with bones shyderyd.  
with his worm eaten maw.  
And his ghastly jaw.  
Gasping aside.  
naked of hide.  
Neither flesh nor fell.  
¶ Then by my council.  
Loke'that ye spell.  
well this gospel.  
for where so we dwell.  
Death will us quell.  
And with us mell.  
¶ For all our pamꝑde paunchies.  
There may no fraunchies.  
Nor worldly bliss.  
Redeem us from this.  
Our days be dated.  
To be check mated.  
With drawtties of death.  
Stopping our breath.  
Our eyen sinking.  
Our bodies stinking.  
Our gummies grinning.  
Our souls brynning.  
To whom then shall we sew.  
For to have rescue.  
But to sweet jesu.  
On us then for to rue.  
¶ O goodly child.  
Of Mary mild.  
Then be our shield.  
That we be not exiled.  
To the dine dale.  
of boteles bale.  
Nor to the lake.  
of fiends black.  
¶ But grant us grac●  
To see thy face.  
And to purchase  
Thine heavenly place.  
And thy palace.  
Full of solace.  
Above the sky.  
That is so hy.  
Eternally.  
To behold and se.  
The trinity.  
Amen.  
Myrres vous y   


WOmanhod wanton ye want.  
your meddling masters is manerles.  
Plente of ill of goodness scant  
ye rayll at riot reckless  
To praise your port it is needles.  
For all your draff yet and your dregs.  
As well borne as ye full oft time beggys'.   

¶ why so koy and full of scorn.  
Mine horse is sold I ween you say.  
My new furred gown when it is worn.  
Put up your purse ye shall none pay.  
By Crede I trust to see the day.  
As proud a pohen as ye spread.  
Of me and other ye may have need.   

¶ Though angelic be your smiling.  
yet is your tongue an adders tail.  
Full like a scorpion stinging.  
All those by whom ye have avail.  
Good masters Anne there ye do shayle.  
what prate ye pretty pigs nigh.  
I trust to quite you or I die.   

¶ your key is meet for every lok.  
your key is comen & hangyth out.  
your key is ready we need not knock.  
Nor stand long wresting there about.  
Of your doregate ye have no doubt.  
But one thing is that ye be lewd.  
Hold your tongue now all be shrewd.   


¶ To master's Arm that farly sweet.  
¶ That wonnes at the key in temmies street.     

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