A SHORT Inventory of certain Idle Inventions  
❧ THE Fruits of a close and secret Garden of great ease, and little pleasure.  
By C. T.  
IMPRINTED AT London in Fleetstreet by Thomas Marsh.  
1581.   

❧ TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPFUL I. R. C. T. WISHETH LONG AND prosperous life, to the glory and pleasure of Almighty God.  
AFter I had bestowed some part of my enforced idle time in drawing these few and frivolous lines of most vain and idle inventions, only of purpose to occupy my mind, which otherwise, by occasions was subject to receive a more troublesome & greater encumbrance: and then bending myself to a further intent, to bestow the sour fruits of these my idle gatherings (though from a place of small pleasure) of some such of my friends, whose courtesy I supposed would vouchsafe very well to accept of them and in every particular point to pardon my folly: knowing that a little mite was as well accepted at the poor woman's hands, coming with a willing mind, as the great and costly present was at the hands of the rich. I then settled myself unto a further consideration, and this I weighed and considered with myself, if I should rashly take upon me to send unto one or two, or many of my friends, this little bundle of trifling toys: not unlike but in a short time it might be drawn from one friend to an other, and so at the length clean out of the hands of my friends, into the mouths of some others, where perhaps it may be so champt & mumbled, as it shall clean be altered from the deacent form and shape of man's meat, and made loathsome to the sight of every man, and only fit for the mouth of the Hogg. Whereby (being desirous to proceed in my purpose) I took occasion to enter into the imagination of the nature & disposition of man with this intent, that if happily I could find the civil & honest inclinations of some, able to weigh in equal balance, & countervail with the uncivil, & dishonest disposition of others, then would I the more willingly be bold to adventure the publishing hereof to some of my friends, according to my former meanig: & now after a little deliberation taken therein, even as the falconer, who presently after every flight, doth high and hasten himself to take the fruits of his game from the foot of his hawk: I in the like manner calling my wits together, have demanded a just account of them what they have gathered according to my purpose, to serve my turn, or at the least to resolve my mind, and as the Hawk doth open his foot to yield the prey unto his master, sometime very e gently, and sometime not so easily, without some striving, and wresting: even so also have they in the same manner, according to their skill now opened themselves in this sort untome, as hereafter followeth.  
According to your appointment we have bestowed some time in travailing and wandering to and fro, and have not only traversed the large and wild field of this world, but as near as we could, have also beaten every little scrub and bush, wherein to our judgements any likely hood of any thing was to be seen, which possibly might serve your turn. And now as touching those things which at this time do only concern our charge, and serve for your purpose, which only be pens and tongues, thus much we have gathered together of the behaviour & disposition of men therein. In the open field we have seen to the plain sight of the world, that there be a very great and infinite number of men some with pens in they r ears, bending themselves only unto wrighting, some with books in their hands, and with great delight bestowing all their time wholly in study. Some others we find neither with Pen, nor Book, but only with a lump of flesh in their mouths, so restless, as it seemeth seldom or never will●gly content to take any rest: of these some be restless only of zeal & earnest good will, continually to do good, or else of pleasure to recreate themselves or delight their Fryends, without uttering at any time any cause of offence: some others again with their natural and mother wits do always busy & beat their brains, and most vainly occupy their tougues only in carping and snatching, (doing nothing themselves) continually at other men's doings. On the other side, of those which give their minds only unto wrighting, we find the dispositions of them be also diverse, some to set forth and make plain unto the ignorant and common people continually the heavenly and divine mysteries, only for the pleasure and comfort to the Soul of man, some to wrighting of such necessary matters, which only touch and concern a common wealth, being as needful for government, as the other is necessary for comfort other some only touch●g the safe keeping and healthful preservation of man's body, which be the Physicians. But leaving to report any further unto you, of necessary writers, we find an other kind of people in the plain and open field, which give themselves very often to write of pleasure, only to refresh sometimes the weary wits as well of themselves, as of divers other men, being perhaps long encumbered before, with matters of greater weight, which for recreation sake was never thought a thing greatly amiss. Of these we find very many, which do greatly please and delight the humour of the common people, without any just cause of offence at all, more unto one man then to another.  
And now to report unto you no other wise in every point then according to truth, we cannot justly say, that in the open field we have seen any honest or wise man, that will take upon him by his pen willingly to justify any undecent, dishonest, or uncomely thing, as well for modesties sake, as for the preservation & safe keeping of their credits: for they know Litterae scriptae manent, that writings remain a long time, & be always very strong testimonies against every man. Therefore we find all men strive to wright them in as good, and comely order, as possibly they can. We speak generally every man, because we have learned this in the world, that among those kind of men, with whom the commendable exercise of wrighting is mostly, & to best purpose used; whosoever is found to write otherwise than according to honesty and good order, they would not have him taken or reputed among honest or wise men, as a man, but rather as a rare deformed and misshapen monster, they think no greater discredits can any way fall upon them, then to have such a one to bear the name of a companion aiming them. But yet full well it is known among many of the wise and learned penmen (and to well if it might be helped) that many nimble witted merchants (though besides very clownish & dull mannered dolts) under the counterfeit habits of grave and civil callings, do oftentimes intrude themselves into that commendable exercise, with such dishonest and unseemly behaviour, as the wise are no less ashamed, then grieved to think of that wicked abuse, though they have not always power to work redress according to their good wills. But they say, it is taken for a rule infallible among them, that wit, subtlety and wickedness: be three such loving Brothers, as seldom or never to be found a sunder: and that wisdom, policy, and honest behaviour on the other side, be three of the like. And of ourselves we find by common experience, that there is no greater wickedness in the world, then doth daily proceed from the witty man: and yet (being as blind in wisdom, as the man is in sight that hath lost both his eyes) when any thing comes from him craftily and wittily devised, either by pen or speech, or any other way: he verily persuades himself, that at all hands, he is greatly extolled for his wit, but contrary to that blind imagination of theirs, we find that among the wise and learned, they be had in continual disdain: for they say, that neither wit nor learning deserves any reverence at any time, where honesty wanteth, and as for wisdom, which in the latin tongue is termed Sapienti●, it beareth continually with him the substance and savour of all goodness, or otherwise it must lose the name, and therefore ever to be had in great reverence. But to be short, beside all this, we find by great hunting and seeking in every corner, & by beating in many bushes, that there is yet an other kind of people which commonly like hedgecrepers, lie lurking in huggermugger, never once ventringe out into any plain or open field, if by chance they come abroad they come so secret lie, as never seen either with pen in their ears, with books in their hands, or scarcely with any tongue in their mouths: if by chance they wright or speak, it is always in clouds, in libel manner, and to the defamation, & discredit of some one or other particular and special man. But these and all other sorts of evil disposed men, we find in this world (the good government is such) that continually they be driven to silence, and that the wise and learned men do always govern the rest, and be the other never so subtle or nimble witted, yet continually they do keep them in subjection & awe: and therefore thus much now we may boldly say, that what soever is set forth by any man either for necessities sake to a common wealth, for pleasure's sake to the writer, to gratify his friends, & delight himself, or for any other reasonable or lawful cause (if comely & honest, & any thing tolerable beside, so it be not to ridiculous,) the mo●t wise & best learned man will least of all condemn him, but rather allow his forward and willing mind, for they know it is no common thing, for every man to be singular.  
conceiving thus much, upon this cō●sideatiō thus had with myself, I find that though in number the wicked & evil disposed men do far surmount the good, yet by authority, and by good government, the good doth always weigh down the apparent evils: and God forbid that any apparante wickedness should ever bear any sway It hath always been seen, that one wise and learned man, have ever been able to keep a thousand other witty naughty packs continually in subjection, and though they start out sometimes by stealth like the dodmond, or Snail, yet being once but touched, they are always fain to pu● home and shrink in their Horns again: and God forbidden, that in any Christian common wealth it should ever be found otherwise. Therefore now I have found for my purpose that whatsoever I, or any other man shall take upon him either to speak, or wright, or any other way howsoeverto put in act: it is only necessarily required at every hand, that it deserve not the just rebuke or blame of the wise, and honest disposed man: and as for those which be contrary, who feareth them, I find must fear every blast of wind: for do a man well, or do he ill, they will be as ready to find faults, and to blame him, as the wind will be to blow upon him. Wherefore now I have taken such courage hereby, as I have emboldened myself to fulfil the earnest desire of my mind, to direct at this time, this little trifle unto you, and if the small matter herein contained, with my duty and goodwill, may but deserve to be taken in good part at your hands, whereof I nothing doubt: & also of the wise, and indifferent reader, which heartily I do desire, and lightly to pass over some vain, and unusual words, which perhaps in divers places here in may be found: then have I obtained the substance of my desire: thus leaving to imagine of, & to answer any other objections which perhaps may be invented against me,) lest being to tedious in troubling you to much, I here end: and as by duty bound during life to be at your commandment, do most heartily commend you unto almighty God.  
From London the third of October. 1●8●.   

TO HIS VERY Loving and especial friend, old Oliver Fyndfault, of England, in the county of Europe Gent. William Woulwell, in most friendly manner sendeth most hearty greetings.  
IF I should so lightly let this pass, as hereby to give free scope to you my friend and to every other ●●cleheaded penman, (flowing by daily practice and experience, in all cunning, and curious conceits, perusing this small pamphlet, which claimeth no other title than a toy,) to condemn the inventor hereof I should greatly injury him, and not unworthily of great folly might condemn myself, in that I have so rashly thrust him so nakedly into the mouths of so many, whereas perhaps if I had given him warning thereof he might more strongly and better have furnished himself, but as naked as I found him, so nakedly straight ways did I prefer him. And therefore the truth is, a very friend of mine being driven from all the benefits and pleasures of this world, and enforced contrary to the ordinances and rules of nature to hide and harbour himself (though as a guiltless guest) in a most solitary and dampish desert, being therewith drawn from all joy and felicity, in in any worldly necessary practice, and rather endeavouring himself to recreate, refresh, and delight his mind with some toyish conceits, than otherwise (being so encumbered) to charge it with any matters of importance or weight for his own solace and pleasure, bestowed some part of that his idle time in certain plain and light toys of invention, not much unlike therein unto a certain idle king in Persia, who in his progresses, did nothing else but continually cut, and whittle sticks, to drive away the tyme. And by reason of my daily recourse unto him, being privy thereunto, I craved and obtained the copy of this now extant, the which I divers times and oft perusing over, took occasion as a toy, to like so well, as I procured it to the press, with this title as you see, and thought it as a token worthy to send unto you, to read whether being led there unto, by the great & good affection I bore to the maker, or by desert of the matter, I know not: but well we both know, it is the natural incliation of friends, one always to think the best of an other. Therefore as I know the first inventor hereof meant nothing less, then to put this forth to the public construction of the world, to hazard or adventure the allowing or disallowing thereof: I will not take uponme to give out any show of commendation therein at all. first because I know it was not made to that intent, and besides, lest if it should happen to be condemned of others as a vain and trifling toy, I should therewith also be condemned to have made a partial and unworthy praise. But sir (if you can rightly consider it) as by the least bird that flies in the air, by the least fish that swims in the Sea, and by the smallest worm that creeps upon the earth. The omnipotent & mighty power of God doth as fully & plain appear, as by the hougest and greatest monsters that bears life in this world: even so by the smallest book that can be written, by the most babbling ballet that can be made, and by the least word that can be spoken, his strange and wonderful works in man, with his most liberal and incomparable gifts unto them do as perfectly set forth and show themselves as by the greatest volume that ever was written, by the wayghtyest or wisest concept that ever was made, or by the most eloquent or learned oration that ever was uttered. The honest wise and civil man doth as little despise the worst and meanest beggar that goeth by the way, as he geeatly honoureth the chiefest & greatest prince that ruleth in the world, even so here the indifferent and well disposed minds, will as little trip, or spu●ne at this stumped, lame, and haui●nge toy, as they would greatly fawn upon, or run after a more fine or pleasant invention. But there is an old proverb Figulus Figulo invidit, one Potter hateth an other, the which to avoid, these may be sufficiently to assure you, in that I know you are a crafts man in that art, that as for this unskilful potter, this small trifle and toy is the first that ever he made, who will not justify it to be lawful nor good, in that he was never apprentice thereunto, and for any he intends, I dare boldly say shall be the last, unless it be a little cup or crueses for his own mouth▪ yet sir if your friendly actions had at any time been▪ agreeable unto your continual colourable shows, you would have enabled him long before this by your friendly instructions, worthy of your fellowship and company.  
But understanding he had, though to very small and little purpose, some smack in this your art, as only to take your vessels in hand and to read them over, you always shook him of, demanding a double fee for the teaching of your skill, much like to amusition, who used to take of hysschollare, which had learned before they came unto him, double soulare, deuble that he took of others, which never learned before, saying that he took double pains with them, as first to make them forget that they had learned before, and then to teach them perfectly again: who if now he were alive should surely find as small resort of scholars, as I think you do in that you are so curious in your art. Therefore to imagine this short, and unpleasant sound, here at this time presented unto your audable and pleasant ears, to be but as a praeludium, unto other conceits, & that he will strive to mar your markets, with any such like rough hewn, or misshapen vessels, it shall be in vain, for be intends nothing less. And as for this small conceit, here at this time, being cast in a very little mould, & wherein great want of an artifitial workman must needs appear: I hope you will not strive to condemn, but rather excuse, though it hath neither head to begin, handle to hold by, nor foot to stand upon & though perhaps near about the end you shall find it very imperfect, and so full of secret chinks and little crantses, as it will hardly hold liquor without leaking: but if your grave head shall esteem it as an idle toy, imagine it (as it is) the fruits of an idle place. For physic sake I know you have swallowed many unpleasant and bitter pills, for friendship sake you may as well at this time digest this trifling and idle toy. But if you shall answer me, that your such physical rescerpts have always enforced you to use the pap of an apple, or else to roll them in sugar, otherwise they might have stuck in your throat: then for answer again, I can but advise you, for the more easy digesting of this my friendly conceit, sent only as a token unto you & to the rest of my friends, to roll it in styd of an apple, in the sot asd slippery pap of your gentle pattence, or otherwise (in stead of a sugar loaf) in some sweet and sugared spice of your most frienly interpretation: and in this (for the old acquaintance of long time continued between us) I hope I shall not fail but miss of your willing & friendly conformity: and therefore now, since I have sufficiently declared unto you, the cause of the publishing hereof, with the disposition and intent of the devisor, and lest I should make this my foretrotting show or preamble (which rightly should be but a brief declaration of what is to come) longer than this his whole race which is very short, and considering my old lesson (worthy in every act to be remembered and observed) quod satis est sufficit, I commend me unto you, you unto God, and these few lines following unto your friendly construction.  
Your assured friend William Wouldwell.   


A SHORT PRELUDIUM to the friendly Reader.  Interpone tuis interdum ga●dia curis 

TO mingle mirth sometimes with care  
and using neither of them to much  
Preserves thy body well in health,  
it keeps thy mind in perfect state.   

To glut in sorrow day and night  
from day to day, from year to year,  
Thou drownst thyself in drowsy moods,  
it singles thee from all thy wites   

The hodge-podge for varieties sake  
is oft accepted of the best  
And taken as a dainty dish  
if kindly mixed with divers tastes   

Resceites of all preservatives  
where shall you find more fit for health  
Then where the skilful mixtures be  
in daily practice to be made.   

A sugared sweet and silver sound  
the music mixed doth always yield  
With harmony so heavenly,  
wherein no man but greatly joys.   

And here to make a window fight,  
out of my mind, now to your eyes  
Since mixtures make all things so good,  
let this my hodge-podge bear no blame.   

A flickering fly with fettered feketes,  
fast tied in scrawling Spiders web,  
A stinking seat of flattering Fleet,  
where ●●arse he can put out his nebb.   

A bird, a beast, more meeter may  
the witless woodcock paint himself  
Whom beaten seamen did assay,  
so oft to warn from shollow shelf,   

A guiltless guest and harboured long  
in hollow cave of hardest stone,  
With patience now doth salve his wrong.  
and wis● it were his harm alone,   

From thence this idle toy doth spring  
where were green nimble witseed swoon  
Great crops of toys that field might b●ing,  
and rank, if oft it were not mown.   

We see when ground is newly laid,  
with weeds and thistles first it springs,  
When suits in love be first assayed,  
it first with trifling toys begynnes,   

Before we come to man's estate,  
in childish toys long time we spend  
And after than our youthful rate,  
we walk as wild till near our end.   

Who will strong holds attempt to win,  
do first with weaklinges try their strength,  
And so the strikers all begin  
and grow to courage great at length.   

Before the soldier press to wars  
he musters first in sport to try  
And there if fit, the boulder dares  
adventure then in field to die.   

We likewise see when plants do spring,  
before their leaves can spread abroad,  
First forth their little buds must bring,  
and then at length their bows they load,   

Thus every thing if rightly weighed,  
with trifles small doth first begin  
Rightly therefore it is not said,  
this trifling toy great blame doth win.   

A needful thing in common wealth  
no man, nor woman thinks to long.  
Which soul or body brings to health  
but still more more is all their song   

A trifling toy in private sport  
if tedious works without delight,  
Blame not therefore this joy though short  
which needles here is brought to light.   

Patet que pardit virtutis arctaque via est.  
The Castle  
This narrow lane of virtue with her 4 capt.  
Prudence▪ justice. Fortitude Temperance.  
resceyves to rest.  
of rest  
this wide field with these 3 captains  
〈◊〉 world. The flesh. The Devil  
Leads all to distru●ction.  
The worldly soldiers.   diagram of castle   

THe godly, politic, & wise government of the one, with the wicked, subtle, & devilish illutions of the other, ever since their beginning & first entering into field of worldly fight, which was when Adam at the first subtle enticement, & tempting tongue of Eve, first pulled the Apple of the tree, is by many learned and godly authors far mor● aptly described, better set forth, more largely & plainly published then possibly by any here at this time, can be spoken or imagined.  
And the like I may say of every other particular theme, in this short, & small pamphlet hereafter following.  
For every little straight and norrowe path which here is taken would most easily conduct and plainly lead a most cunning and perfit penman into a most ample, and large field most pleasant and necessary.  
And therefore leaving that wide and fertile field wherein most sweet, wholesome, and necessary flowers of great good, and requisite matters might be gathered (as to entreat now at this present of these three vyses and four virtues, with the substance of every other matter hereafter following,) I rather bend my journey forthwith according to the title of this toy, into a more secret and seldom used garden, where I intend not to gather of all sorts of flowers such plenty as to make thereof a great and goodly garland, but rather more likely no flower of pl●●●ure at al. For well do I know, that hardly should I find (were I in place never so plentiful) such a flower of pleasure or delight, which hath not already heretofore, by some or other been presented unto many tender noses, who perhaps if again they should be tried with the like, would rather stop their noses, & disallow thereof, being so oft cloyed with such accustomed savours, them they would praise the sweetness thereof were it never so pleasant, which we daily see by great experience, as for example this for one among many others may well be noted, that when wanton youth most wyldlye flying here and there exercising the youthful wings of his unconstant and flickering mind, from place to place, light happily upon some fertile, and pleasant ground, where he finds great plenty of sweet and comfortable flowers: then setteling his mind according to the humour of his eye, he sits him down as it were upon some one chois●●● spetial moulehil near unto to the flower he best delights: and there resting his body from time to time, (though with a restless mind) rather willing to feed the desire of his wanton eye. in still perusing & beholding his chosen & long eye bitten flower, then to satisfy his hungry and needy stomach, with any other nourishing or necessary food: at length after many bashful, & private attempts, sometime handling the stalk & oftentimes kissing the leaves: gathering up some crumbs of courage, suddenly takes it up by the roots, & caries it clean away: which lightly he keeps for a time most lovingly, somewhile in his hand, somewhile in his bosom and straight in his lap, sometime to his nose, some time to his lips, & not unlike but sometime to his bed: for that he wakes no sooner in the morning than he desires to have it near his nose, to be short, his delights be such therein, as who knows not that he esteems it before all other growing herbs, or flowers under the sun: he loves it according to the old saying of the poet Anacreon, as a sweet mischief, and with the saying of Propertius, as a sweet tyranny because he endureth his torments willingly, & is seldom content to settle or quiet his mind where he lives, but always there where he loves. He sticks not for the love thereof to adventure the overthrow of his own body with Roderick of Spain, who lost his kingdom for the love of Camma: or to enterprise the death and destruction of a stranger, with Retormodicus, who overthrew the whole state of the Lacedæmonians for the love of Scedasus daughters, & with Catiline, who slew his own son for the love of Orestilla. And all this not withstanding, after a while, his eager sight being once satisfied, a●● the rest of his senses which before took their delights: grow as great to mislikingr as before in their first beginning they kindled and grew to love, a thing no less strange unto all such as still remain free their flower to choose, them it were miraculous for the hot mount Aetna, to become the cold hill Caucasus, & whose lo● soever, it is to tread the world do not unlikely stumble oftentimes upon many such (though lost and cast away) pleasant and sweet flowers. This example the world over is daily seen. And therefore now, since that such famous inventions be so cunningly devised, and severally knit up together, you may for a penny have in your pocket choice of many pretty toys at all times to delight you. I know it were now in vain for me to strive to gather the like, though my enforced idle leisure might well serve thereunto, for in that it should be superfluous, it would rather greatly yr● than any thing at all delight: but my intent is (though I be long in coming thereto) in this my chosen and solitary Garden, to pick out the most trifling and vainest weeds that possibly may be found, and therewith to make (to pass my weary time) a small and little poesy, the rather for that I know, many be so cloyed with pleasant and sweet savours, as they oftentimes seek for most filthy and s●inking weeds to sinel upon. But as I would not strive beyond my skill to prick this full of pleasant and delectable flowers, even so would I be loath to poison it with such unwholesome and s●inking weeds as it should yield too filthy or irksome a savour. Therefore if I be not deceived, it shall yield very barely any savour either sweet or lower at all: and in ●o doing as the sweetness shall little delight you, the sour taste shall as little offend you. And therefore to be short, leaving these circumstances and endless round running about the bush. The first beginning hereof (though more briefly then cunningly) shows the weak and f●ble entering of man first into this wicked world nourished up, and safely kept by three chosen nurses (though in more soft and gentle bands) not much unlike to the poor captives and prisoners under the custody and chains of their appointed gaylors, until the Session day of their gail delivery: where strait they recceive their judgements (as by the law rightly condemned) to be led into the wide wilderness of this wretched world, where (as pilgrims) passing long youthful and weary time, some light happily into the hands of good & Godly disposed men, some into the hands of most cruel tyrants, whose simple, senseless & brutish minds serve them continually to torment and destroy the next unarmed naweake men, that by chance fall into their devilish dints, in revenge of some injury done unto them before their equals, or superiors: from the which I pray god deliver me, & preserve all others. Some again are chosen and placed in princely seat of rule: some in place of divine counsel, some in place to flourish and seed a common wealth, some to cure the sick, and diseased bodies, and some continually in place to deceive the whole world with whom no sticklers at any time, as yet could ever prevail, till death himself in proper person, comes to play his most plain and unskilful quarters, as hereafter in this small Pamp●er, doth more plainly & briefly appear, a thing though unfitly intermingled with such idle and vain inventions, and though unaptly bearing the title above named in that the name of god ought never to be so taken in vain as once to be named under the title of such a toy: yet my intent, and matter therein considered, it shall not be greatly amiss, if by the reader it may be construed to the best: (which I desire) for I strive not to justify the perfectness thereof, inform, in style, in matter, or in any thing. And therefore I may not otherwise but commend it (as a tryling ●oy) unno the best and most friendly construction.   


THe silly babe in cradle rocked  
cries always out as pinched with pains  
That impish thing, it would be knocked  
saith hairbraind hag, knock out the brains.   

But she full little knows or thinks  
Of cradle crying mystery  
Where man to death his draft first drinks,  
And there lithe cheaud to misery.   

It speaks a language strange to man,  
which few or none well understands  
But fain it would from whence it came,  
to earth again from all those bands,   

It struggles weakly God doth know  
Full oft within the Nurses' arms,  
Then give it leave the mind to show,  
to earth it flies and fears no harms.   

But what should cause such harmless souls  
to strive so strangely strait to die.  
It is a ball which nature trolls  
Before their eyes, though secretle.   

Of glass, wherein they see their woes  
which in this world they must abide  
And that they be among their foes,  
And therefore they would gladly hide.   

But strive or strougle as they will,  
writh or wrist which way they can.  
And cry or blear they out their fill  
they lie still tied till state of man.   

And then as soon as they begin  
to grow in strength to tread the ground,  
The Father captain strives to win.  
and train them by alluring sound.   

Strait from their babish swaddling bands,  
into the ample fight field,  
And first give them into their hands  
their Absey books, as spear and shield.   

Wherewith we daily see them walk,  
and tossing them (though childishly)  
As silly tattling babes in talk,  
not thinking of their misery.   

And how they all be priest to fight  
in field of worldly wretched woe,  
But wantonness is their delight  
Till they to wretched field do go,   

Wherein all fathers do agree.  
As captains tried in wars before  
And longs in arms the child to see  
which doth great joys to them restore,   

And thus man's life is militant  
in daily stirring here and there:  
Of courage stout and puissant.  
before all things that earth doth bear.   

From cruel wars it never stint,  
though bloodshed small or none be seen,  
A thousand times more hard than flint,  
a fort it doth besiege to win,   

Which worldly art did never make  
nor can be won, but by the best  
And named, (which force can never shake)  
the seat of everlasting rest.   

Who thinks his life most strong to fight  
against the world▪ his race to end.  
Is soonest brought to woeful plight  
if virtue doth no succour send.    

ANd therefore the necessary & weighty force hereof considered, who could most cunningly or closely convey himself into the sight of this most cruel & continual battle) bearing always before his body, true faith, as his buckler, & placing constancy as a sure bulwark of defence, should doobtles daily behold far more wonderful wrack, & destruction, with more secret subtle policies & deceipts, than through the whole world in any our accustomed bloody conflicts, betwixt man & man, he could possibly see all days of his life. No blows be there to be seen, no noise to be hard, no vaunt of victory at any time to be made, the slaughter be it never so great, is ever st●● and silent. All deadly wounds being there daily and hourly infinite and innumerable one only Physician doth always cure, who far beyond all art, doth so continually strengthen and refresh all those encamped and fighting soldiers, as from the time they first pitched their field unto this day the battle never quailed, nor yet till the last hour ever shall. But now being outward (as an unskilful passenger of this my short and easy journey, if I should contrary to my farmer promise, forsake my plain and easy trot, and suddenly fall into a more swift, and curious pace, intending to leap and run beyond my limits into this wide field, & world of continual war. Upon my return again, you would certainly expect a perfect & true report of some great and wonderful news, the order and manner of their field, with description of some notable late battle, and conquest, with many other questions, which (for want of experience) I cannot imagine: and then if my judgement, disposition, eloquence, and memory (●he chiefest tools, and instruments of every cunning and perfect wise messenger) being tried with the touchstone of some artificial workman: shall appear so utterly void of any good, or perfit metal, as in no part able to perform what is looked for, ● shall justly be condemned, in so foolishly disclosing mine own imbecility & weakness: which otherwise by silence I might still have concealed. Therefore I will not take upon me as a messenger of any skill, to make any report thereof. But whosoever can wisely and well dispose himself shall more fitly be his own messenger. And there may behold the innumerable number of worldlings, having continually their desired fort in view, daily marching forward thereunto, how by many subtle and secret policies they they be always forestald, & stopped their way, and shall plainly see, against every lone and single man, three most strong and mighty adversaries, the world, the flesh, and the devil, who continually keep themselves most strongly in arms, having won the rule and dominion of the greatest part of the world, only leaving a most narrow & strait lane unto this our fort and castle of rest, wherein stands Virtue, being at continual war and defiance against those deadly and mortal enemies of man, as strongly and as surely furnished against them, as possibly may be. With continual becks and signs: not failing daily and hourly to send her secret privy scouts, and messengers from man to man, to instruct and give us knowledge of that narrow and secret way, and therewith never refuseth, to such as be willing to follow her to accompany and assist them, with what strength she can possibly make▪ to safecanduite and lead them through the thickest of their enemies. But this virtue (being a continual and open fiend unto us) with all her most & strongest furniture of munition and defence, is daily met withal, and encountered and yet strongly abides those continual conflicts, sometime escaping with victory, and sometime with loss: but most seldom doth she return conquered unless the dissembling Captive (whom her purpose is to safecunduit & defend) most cowardly quails, and shrinks from her by the way.  
The poor soldier, is no sooner espied by his diligent daily attendants, the world, the flesh, and the devil, to be creeping a way under the banner of virtue, but straight they fly unto him with as sure hold as possible may be, & then being faint hearted, easy to be assured, by their glorious and subtle outward shows of deceit, he easily lets go his hold by virtue, and yields to their tyxa●●ous (though secret) fleshly, & carnal tugs. But contrariwise if he be so strong of courage not easy to be carried by any secret or subtle whyrl●wynde, or so wary in wisdom and foresight, as to eschew all their forewarned snares, and willing to withstand those his enemies unto death, than she most lovingly, and readily embraceth him, as her adopted child: and then to behold how gently and easily she like a natural mother, draws him by little and little, out of the tearing Teeth of those most cruel tyrants, and how cunningly and carefully she strives to carry him safely through their dangerous and cruel force, it would doubtless drive all her strongest enemies most earnestly and faithfully to love, honour, and obey her, even to the end.  
And thus in viewing the secret and cunning wars bentwixt the world and this our mortal life, (wherein much more may be understood, then by this idle pen, can possibly be uttered) our subtle and secret enemies we shall the better eschew, and our safest way to the castle and seat of everlasting rest, shall more easily learn, which (as seems is not the broad and common beaten way, but rather a very narrow and seldom trodden mossey lane. And as our foresaid adversaries with all their army, and might be daily remaining in the one, giving us continual repulce in all attempts unto this our everlasting fort: and training us like drunken mice into their flattering pytfalles of everlasting destruction: Even so our most loving and natural friend virtue. with all her power continually possesseth the other (which is the narrow lane) always ready on the other side, there to resceave us in. And thereupon is it written, though otherwise. as well it may be understood)  Patet quae perdit. etc.  

❧ The friendly greeting and coming together between Idleness, & a student.  
THe godly & well disposed man, satlinge 
Student.  himself both in body and mind, (bowing as faithfully the knees of his heart, as many do feignedly in most dissembling manner the knees of their outward bodies) unto his devout meditations, & prayers, is very sensably to his feeling as he certainly thinks, pulled oftentimes by the head oft times by the leg▪ and some time by other parts of the body. It is not a thing strange or rare to be heard of, that most strange & terrible visions have also appeared unto such kind of men, to move them unto terror and fear of purpose to remove them from their such devotion and prayer: who it is, or what it is, that doth work and bring such continual lets, and i●cumbraunces unto them, I leave to the grave and learned divines, whose profession (for want of knowledge) ● neither dare, nor can take upon me to show: yet for my plain and short opinion therein, I think it is the secret snatching, and privy biting degge of hell.  
But the godly and holy men are so daily & hourly bitt●n therewith, as come the devil himself, his dog, or his dam, or what saint soever of his he lists to send, the ofter they feel themselves bitten, and snatched at, the ofter and more greatly do they take occasion thereby, not only to pray the more devoutly, but also more heartily to rejoice unto themselves, knowing that the devil, with all his company of Angels, is never so diligent and eager in busying himself to win, but where he lighteth in such running company of gamesters, as he is always in fear to lose, which is never among dysers, and carders, nor yet in any alchouse, or rypling pastimes, never in any feasting, or banqueting, nor in brave and gorgeous shows, nor yet in any one delight, or worldly pleasure at all, for in some of these, as in continual dysing and carding, which is never without swearing and staring, in continual feasting and banqueting which is never without drunkenness, and gluttony with such like, he is never in fear among them, as once to lose. But which of them soever can best and most cleanly bear his ale, or with his cunning slaightes and ingling tricks, deceive most, and win of all the rest. ●he denill for his part is sure at the end as cleanly to bear him, and as cunningly to win them all, and as in worldly delights he likewise resteth himself quiet, never offering any trouble or disquiet unto any of them, only in hope that the pleasures of the world will be sufficient instruments to draw them also to the bent of his bow, as well as if he himself were in presence among them: & this appeiseth his bottomless and insatiable gulf, desirous if possibly he might to drown and draw unto himself, the poor innocentes and souls of all the world. But there be many godly and well disposed men, who by the continual help, and inspiration of the holy Ghost, have at all attempts as great cunning to prevent him, as he hath always subtly in seeking to tempt and deceive them: they never muse or start at any of his sudden or secret shadows, but continually labour and bend themselves to withstand his such wicked devices.  
And now to show my present and secret trouble, even so in the very same manner, though not settling myself in the like Godliness of devotion, as before mentioned, yet bending myself unto a worldly and necessary study, I feel even now of late very censably & plainly many secret and privy twitches, but by whom I cannot imagine (hearing nor seeing any thing at all,) as for the devil I hope it is not, for man or woman it cannot possibly be: and therefore (desirous to follow as near as I can, the steps of these godly, and well disposed men,) what soever it is, until I hear further thereof, I will not so easily be overcome.  

Idleness.  
Sir to drive you from your dumps and great admirations, it is even I.   

Student.  
Friend Idleness, I may not say welcome. But since you are come, give me your hand: what was the cause, that you so oft & so secretly pulled m●e by the sleeve, that I could never neither see, nor hear you?   

Idleness.  
Oh sir, it was for very mere good will which I did bear, as always I have borne most willingly unto you.  
For looking privily and peeping over your shoulders, and saying you so earnestly beside your book. I thought with myself, if suddenly I should have blown out my trumpet, or have breathed any loud sound, or singing into your ears, or if suddenly I should have appeared unto you, I might perhaps have so frighted, and driven you unto such a sudden start and terrible fear, as during your life ever after, you might thereby have fallen into some wonderful and great dropsy: and therefore in the most gentle and friendly manner I could, I easily and privily (fearing your such disturbance) pulled you by the sleeve: Whereupon hearing you so gravely beginning your ground, and running such descant upon the Devil, his dog, and his dam, I stood a long time (as though greatle amazed) expecting your last stroke, and how you would make your close: whereby at length, I might plainly perceive you in a manner likened me (though not named) unto the Devil and his dog, which (considering my continual friendly mind towards you) I could not choose, but take very unkindly.   

Student.  
Friend injury, I know you have not been so basely brought up in beggars bosom with ignorance, but that you do as well know the order and course of this world, as the greatest learned, & most famous Clerk of all: your white head, and many years in great experience have brought you sufficient knowledge, to countervail the best: continual company and oft handling do bring the wild and brutish beasts, at the length to be tame: and many Birds, as Parattes, and Pies, with such like oftentimes to speak. Experience teacheth us, that company many times doth work great wonders: and what is it that company will not cause, The old Proverb is, that company oftentimes doth make many old men very good cooks: and my friend take you from company take your head from your shoulders. Sometime like a rogue, and shakeragge, half naked, a man may find you dancing among beggars, some while brawling, and fight, and some time cracking of louse, sometime in mean apparel, in taverns, and tippling houses, tossing, and swilling, and cracking of crowns, sometime again, in most brave and gorgeous attire, a companion with the best: to be short, of what estate or calling is he of, into whose company sometime or other, you have not intruded yourself.  
Therefore being so well acqnaynted, as I know you are with the natures, and dispositions of all men, it seemeth very strange unto me, that now you should seem so ignorant of me, as to take any thing unkindly whatsoever I have spoken of you: for you know right well, that notwithstanding most men are content secretly oftentimes to entertain you, yet few or none at any time, but rogues and knaves, dare for their credit's sake, openly allow or commend you: it can not be also unknown unto you, that you have always been cronacled to be that author and mother of all mischief & vice, calling your wits together, and remembering yourself, you know more herein than I can tell you. Therefore never take the words of your friend, when they seem to offend you, but rather his mind. For notwithstanding my former speech I will not be to curious, nor shy of your company, a wise man (I know) sometime will admit of the simple fool and prating knave to sit at his board, the one to make sport in laughing, the other in talking, and both to pass away the time: for a young man to be always grave, until his very root begins, & grows to be grey: were surely in my concept as great a folly in him, as if always he should be idle. Therefore my friend, since now you have so gently, so advisedly, and so friendly presented yourself unto me, and being I know the messenger and servant, and attorney of an attorney, discourage not yourself at any thing I have spoken, but even as bold as you would be with the greatest acquaintance you have, be even now as bold with me, & acquaint me with the cause of your coming.   

Idleness.  
Sir as you have said I confess in every part it is true, I find now great reason doth wish me to take in very good part what soever ye have already spoken, or shall hereafter ever speak.    

A QUESTION, BY Idleness put forth to the Studente.  
SIr, if my vain and idle motions, should not trouble your grave and well occupied mind, I would with your patience crave your advise and judgement in a matter (though very common and easy) wherein at this time my idle brains be some thing basyed.  

Student.  
My business is not so great, but I may very well afford to grant you audience, and also answer you if need shall so require, & therefore let me hear your mind, and show me the troublesome and clammy way wherein you, stick, and if my skill may possibly work you out a more plain and easy passage, you shall not long miss of your such earnest desire.   

Idleness.  
Sir, since your courtesy is so great to bend yourself so gently, & so friendly towards me, I hope I shall not need in haste to scrangle my wits together in uttering my mind at this time unto you, for I have so oftentimes heretofore, & even now of late to my cost, found the old proverb to be true, that hast maketh waste as now wherein I may choose I will rather creep with the snail, then run with the Heart: for we see by experience, that the slowest going: Ass is always the surest bearing beast, the slowest winged hawk (if any thing good beside) doth commonly show the best sport, and keeps herself longest from any mischance: for hast we see that many of the feminine sex, have suddenly fallen backward to many incurable and great mishaps, and of men, as many have tumbled headlong forward, putting themselves in danger of as great peril. do we not daily see, that many for haste offer to put meat into their mouths, gaping full wide, and yet puts it besides? and many with spoon meats, before their mouths can be open, chop the spoon against their teeth, and all to besquatter their lips and beards if they have any? do not many drink so hastily, as sometime very suddenly they almost quackle, and choke themselves, and then (if ashamed) will say I have drunk a crumb? have you not known divers men, and sometime many women, to far the worse for their snatching. Such as can tarry time and leisure do commonly far best, & yet I agree the tarier thinks always long, unto what time this tarrying must have relation, I leave it unto them of that kind.  
But to descant a little further upon this plain and hasty ground: if I shall not trouble you to long: have you not heard that sometime a man hath fallen in company by chance with a woman, as it were upon the friday, and hath beddid her upon saturday, wedded her upon Sunday, and all torepented himself upon monday? if repentance in such be differed for 2. days, it is a marvel, but if for a week, it is a great wonder: such is the nature of haste, soon ripe, soon rotten, soon hot, soon cold, soon done, soon repent, the words of ancient and wise men are oftentimes heard among us, but little regarded of any: they have set down this for a rule Quod semel faciendum, diu deliberandum: whatsoever is but once to be done, and once done, never again to be undone, doth always require great deliberation, and long to be considered of before▪ but the Elephant being a huge and brutish Beast without reason, doth better obey and follow this rule by nature, than we having reason can by oft and continual persuasions: for he knowing by nature, that if once he chance to fall down he must never look to rise again, doth look so narrowly to his footing, as he never setteth step without great deliberation: when the natural rest of sleep comes upon him, he gets him presently unto some tree, and thereto leaning himself so taketh his rest. And is the fall of the Elephant greater to the earth, than the fall of a man into a cursed Xantippa, or into the hands of an egregious shrew? verily I think it cannot possibly be, is it not then needful for the man to look with the Elephant, twice about him before he leap: the wise man saith insipientis est dicere: etc. it is a great show and token of an unwise man, when you hear him say, if I had known this or if I had known that, for if rashiye he bec sped, it is the best wisdom quietly to whist himself. I remember a familiar example of a very wise and plain man in the country, who for his patience in bearing that Kind of affliction, hath been kept a long time in remembrance: he and his wife keeping continually so close together, as sometime fast tied together by the ears: understanding the place and time appointed, where such a famous and learned ma●ne should preach, they agreed in due time lovingly to go together arm in arm, and cheek by check, pressing so in that loving manner as near to the Preacher as possibly they could. And after a while the Preacher entering into great discourse of many matters, serving fit for his text, among divers other things fell into speech how Christ bear his cross, and after many learned and godly exortations opened therein, he remembered the saying in the scripture: Who soever will be my servant, must take up his cross and follow me: at which words this honest man having his wife arm in arm, as though sharply pricked with a sudden motion, said immediately upon a sudden unto the Preacher: Sir, that will I with all my heart, and thereupon presently hosting up his wife upon his shoulders as well as he could, with all speed began to departed, but the preacher and the rest of the congregation, blaming him as little for that his zealous and godly mind, as they greatly marveled at that his strange & rare example, caused him to be staid and eased of his heavy burden, and after this the preacher proceeding to his purpose, and finishing his Sermon, he caused this honest man and his wife to brought before him in the presence of the whole congregation, and knowing him by report to be a very wise man, demanded openly of him the cause of this sudden motion: he boldly and openly answered him. Why sir was it not your saying, that he that will be the servant of God, must do as christ did, in taking up his cross & following him, and that our cross that we most bear, is the troubles and afflictions of this world: the preacher answered him it was true, & so was the saying of the scripture, than said the honest man, if this be true I hope I have not offended, if I will be a servant unto God, I must needs carry some cross, and troubles of this world for I have hard, that Nullus sanctorum coronatus sine flagello vel certamine, and for my part I have no other cross, nor trouble in this world but only this my dear wife, who is as devilish a dame, as cursed a shrew, as mad a makin as ever pulled man by beard, and if you have any other cross to tell me of then her, which I must bear, I hope God will pardon me, and so must you, for I know I shall not be able to live to endure the burden▪ I live (God knows) full hardly and wearely with this. The preacher said unto him: honestman I know you are counted wise, I find it is for your honest and good behaviour the you be so well esteemed of, and not for any great knowledge or understanding which I thnyke you will claim unto yourself: it seemeth you have better understanding in your husbandry, in your occupation, or in some other handcrafte, whatsoever it is, than you have in the knowledge of any Divine reasons, but living honestly and well (as appears by your good report) and being so willing and diligent to give ear unto your teacher, in that I know every man cannot be a cunning clerk (for then many a thief should escape the bicallous) I do find the less cause to blame you, but rather I am to instruct you according to the truth, which is my office & to bestow my time in teaching the ignorant people. Therefore you must understand that to bear the cross and troubles of this world, it is not to bear them upon your shoulders, but you must bear them that is, you must endure them, and take them with a quiet and patiented mind, & as a punishment sent from God, for your sums. then said the honest man unto him again. Sir, I confess my ignorance, and do wish that I had more knowledge, as for your counsel I will willingly fellow as near I can, my coming was to the same purpose: but whereas you say, I must not take nor bear, the worldly afflictions upon my shoulders, but endure them with a patiented mind, I say that if you had my wife, or such an other but for one year, you should find, you must not only endure with a patiented mind, but you should also have enough to do, to bear of both with head, shoulders, back, & legs, and every other part of your body: therefore, sir, you speak well, and like one of great learning but of little experience, and God forbidden that you should have the like experience herein as I have found, and perhaps many other. The preacher making haste to be gone, and leaving any further at that time to exhort him, said, at his departure: honest man (as it seemeth) you are wonderfully encumbered with a marvelous cursed and devilish shrew, far worse as appeareth most true, than the common sort of shrews, for they be all tolerable enough, and by this your report which beareth indeed some credit, being so honest a man, I must needs say, this wife of yours is intolerable, therefore you may do well for your more quiet, & better ease, to seek some lawful sepetation betwixt you, and that is the best counsel that I, or any man else in this case can give you: for though I have no experience, yet by reason I find there is no striving with a devilish dame. I hope there be not many such in the world, and so I leave you.  
Then said the other again, for all your good counsayie hitherto I heartily thank you. But now whereas at the winding up, you seem to give me counsel to leave my dear wife. Which is only the cross I have in this world, whereby I must go in the world to come to life everlasting. I think your doctrine therein not to my best commodity, and then taking his wife by the hand, said unto her, come wife, let us go home together again, as lovingly as we came forth: and since I have now learned that thou art the only mean to bring me to heaven. I will now cherish thee more than ever I did before. but I hope I shall not need: for if I do by chance sometime forget you, I hope you will not forget yourself, and now because you find that I have some greater care of you, than heretofore I would be loath you should now seek, by pensiveness to shorten your own life, for than I may be thought to kill you with kindness. In this order during his life did this wise man content himself, with his unadvised and hasty choice.  
More haste then good speed is never to be liked, soft fire maketh sweet malt, but to take haste after another sense, they say a hasty man maketh a hasty woman, a gentle and soft man doth always make a soft and gentle woman: the hasty man in rebuking his wife openly. resembles him that spits into the wind and receives it again upon his face: but perhaps you will say that none be of that m●nd but women: yes truly it is the mind of many wise men: for example sake, look where you can find a wise man, that to the sight of the world, and in very deed will not allow his wise to be master when she list, and then on the other side, look where you can find a fool whose wife will not tremble to speak, and be afraid to look aside of any man in the presence of him. The wise scholmayster saith, it is never meet to keep that child in to much awe & fear which by nature is so gentle & tractable as the mildness of his face, doth always confess his fault, and even so saith the wise man of the woman, that she yielding always the man to be her head, and by nature commonly subjecting herself willingly unto him, it were a great fault to keep her also in continual subjection, and therefore among wise men it is always taken for a rule, the humble must ever be exalted: among the other sort they must be contented to be always oppred, and trodden down, yet sometime we see the most harebrained of all is surely yoked, and stepped with the Goose from creeping through every hedge, or scarce to go out of any narrow door.  
But look which way we will, either one way or other, to what sense soever this word Hast is best & most fittest to be wrested (unless that it be a hasty pudding.) I cannot possibly imagine or think which way, or by what means it can well be allowed of.  
We daily see by common experience hasty men never want woe, and what thing soever is done with over much haste, is commonly repent by leisure.  
Therefore Sir, I will not at this time fall suddenly into the depth of my desire here at this time with you, for pleasure's sake only: since it is the first time of our meeting together, by your patience we will walk a little together by the way: and sith that time doth serve us both so well, I would be glad to crave your short opinion herein. I have hard it a question. (being divers times▪ myself in company) whether it is better to be idle, or to be ill occupied.   

Student.  
Friend idleness, not unlike but you have been in company where this and many other like frivolous questions have commonly been canvased to and fro, and nothing at all unfit for your education. But if I should take upon me to answer this your question, and yield a reason of some betternes in the one of your propositions, I had need to pull some logition by the sleeve, as you have done me, and crave his advice, as yond intend to do mine: for as I take it in this your question is included an equivocal and doubtful sense, which requireth the artificial tools of Logic, to make it smooth and plain as well to the ear as to the eye, and I mean not at this time to wade to far, and so wanton with you, I will take your words as the lie: and as by common attendment they are to be taken, and so shall you briefly hear mine opinion according to your desire: you are not to learn, that one question may be answered by putting forth an other: therefore my friend, admit a man should bring you two crows, and demand of you whether is the whiter, being both (as commonly they be) as black as a coal: were it possible your skill could reach so far to yield a reason the one to be whiter than the other? if I knew you were a logician, I would not doubt but you might do some thing with your cunning fallations: but being as you are, you must be content to take only your mother wit, and leave that skilful art, and by your natural reason you shall hardly prove black to be white, or nought to be good. Therefore your question being this, whether it is better to be idle, or ill occupied, I may answer you briefly, neither barrel better herring: where you would have one thing better than another, you must first allow the one of them to be good: for better is a degree of comparison from good, and neither of these do good. How then can I judge which of them is better:   

Idleness.  
If I may be bold to interrupt your talk, how would you behave yourself if this question were demanded, of you in the presence of such who have no artificial skill in reasoning at all, as if you were among a number of women would you not serve a whit from art, and fall to some vain and idle reasons you know full well that they are never brought up either in Logic or Rhetoric.  
Therefore among them, either you must talk according to their understanding, or else continually be scilente, which would argue much ignorance, or rather great dullness in you.   

Student.  
If I were in company of never so many, I confess I could have very little to say, I do but I should be as the Owl among a number of birds, rather amazed to hear their continual chirping, than any way able to answer such kind of questions.   

Idleness.  
Why sir, and would you also lie as the Owl doth, upon your back, and cry too wit, too woe? I would wish you rather to lie grovelling upon your belly to hide your bashful face.   

Student  
Nay friend injury, I am no crooked build bird, I mind not so to cry, neither to fall forward nor backward, the place should be very flippery if I kept not my footing, and beside, I would not grratly stick to endeavour myself to yield the best reasons I could to feed their fantasies, but I am not yet among them, we may talk thereof at leisure: I am now only in the company of an idle pack, & have granted to debate some matters with you, according to our 2 fantasies at this time alone. And therefore now to proceed towards the end of my answer unto your headless question, I must put you in mind of a sentence out of Tully, for being as I have said, that your question is of two evils, we must prove which is the least, and not the best, for saith he, duorum malorum minimun ma lum est elegendum. of two evils the least is always to be chosen.   

Idleness  
Once again you must pardon me, I must be bold to interrupt you. You say it is the saying of a wise man, that of two or many evils the least is always to be chosen: surely that your speech doth fall out very well at this time to serve my turn: for even now am I toward a wife, and I have stood in great doubt a long time with myself, whether were better to choose a big bounser, or a little lowbithground: but by this your speech I find now the end of my doubt. Now surely I will seek out the least woman that possibly may be found in a country: and if I may find such a one as may serve my turn, and yet scant able to reach up to my middle, I will think I have found the most precious jewel in the world: for of two evils you say the least is always to be chosen.   

Student.  
Why friend Nimblechaps me thinks you seem rather ready to play with the shadow of every thing then wi●ling to understand the substantial matter in any thing: can you rightly gather upon my speech that a woman is evil? if you do well understand me, you shall find nothing less, but rather that she is for the most part one of the greatest good things in this world, and most necessary of any thing else besides.   

Idleness.  
Sir in what I spoke of a woman I bilt no part of my speech upon yours I bilt only upon my own ground, your speech was but an introduction unto me: but if it be as you say in your country (as for all countries I am sure, you have not travailed) then do your country and mine greatly differ: for where you say, she is one of the greatest goods in the world, there is this old saying with us. Femina rara bona, sed si bona digna corona, a woman is sosildome and so rarely good, that when she is good indeed, she is worthy to wear a crown of gold: and beside, where you say, she is most necessary of any earthly thing▪ that sounds something like one way to be true: for we have an other old saying with us, that draws very near unto that purpose, which is this that fire, water, and a woman be three of the most necessary evils in world. with many other like old sayings, which were to long to bring in question.   

Student  
If all your many, other like old, and dunstical sayings be like unto these two, none of them all would be worthy the repeating, for of these the one is meerlye false, the other not rightly understood: for whereas you say, that fire, water, & a woman, be three necessary evils: that is clean contrary, for they be three of the necessary goods in this world, for the preserving and keeping of man's life, and beside by common reason it is a thing very unceasable, that any evil thing can be necessary, it is rather a thing to be thought necessary, that there were no evil at all: but in way of reasoning some will say, that good bears not his name but in respect of evil, and how should good be known if evil were not, and that one contrary doth always set forth and show an other, & therefore necessary with manyother stronger reasons than here can be made, yet they shall be but arguments of deceit, for as black is a colour of itself without white & white without bearing several names for knowledge of the one from the other, even so is good a virtue of itself without evil, and evil a vice of itself without good. Therefore I have said no evil can any way be necessary and now since a woman by your confession is necessary how will your rusty sentences make her to be an evil? my friend, you may see how your old sayings (a number of them, by continuance of time be so greatly corrupted, as most of them, (bearing a show of truth, in that they be old) are very false. And now as to your other sentence, Fem. rar. bon. sed si bon. dig. coron. your interpretation herein is clean contrary to the true meaning. For rightly it is thus to be understood A woman is a rare good (that is to say) so rare a good thing, as the like is hardly, or not at all to be found again in this world, but if good, worthy of a crown of Gold: that is thus to be understood on the other side, that (since in every kind there be always some which be evil) if the woman be good (she is so necessary) she is then most worthy to be had in great estimation before all other earthly things, and therefore it is said she is worthy to be crowned, and now my thinks time grows away very fast I hope we need not continue any longer in these your slips, and wanton by-ways leading clean from our purpose, you may find how rashly you have been ready to conceive amiss: & therefore now once again to enter into your question if you will suffer me to proceed: as I have said of two evils the least is to be chosen, and now which is the least evil, to be idle or to be ill occupied, that must be our question: & for this time I think mine opinion will draw very near unto your good liking: For in my conceit of the twain, to be idle is the least evil, and yet I must agree, that idleness is the mother of all mischief, the root of all sin the handmaid of the devil, and the devils stael, as the owl is for the byrder under his lime bush or hidden net. But to way according unto common reason so long as a man is idle his mind is occupied about nothing of effect, either good or bad, and during that time in quality he very much resembleth the Jack daw, whose nature is being the most unhappy and idle headed bird that flies, continually to pluck straws from some thatched house or other, snapping at every fly which comes in his way, or ramming of every little cranny he finds with some baggagely stuff. For when shall you see the idle man: but either he is doing his neighbour, or next slander by some petty mischief, catching at flies, playing with straws under his feet, champing them with his teeth, or else busied about some other like idle occupations: being idle the mind always runneth wildly about after every rolling glint of the eye, and being well marked, it makes the man appear as if he were mad, and being long continued oft times it brings him to madness indeed, for than he is a ready host and sit receptacle to entertain all wicked imaginations, & hath stable roomth plenty for the devil, & as many horses' as he will bring, and whether you think the devil dancing upon horseback within a man will make him mad or no, I leave it to your judgement: we may learn by a familiar example of a simile: daily in experience among us, that great inconvenience doth come by idleness For look unto those places where great infections of plagues and other like diseases do reign: have you not continually there the advice of wise & learned physicians, in any case never to go abroad with an empty & idle stomach (lest infection finding it empty comes in & take his place filling it full of filthy corruption, & thereby bringeth your body sooner to decay: they wish unto every man a thing most easy always ready to be had) a cup of ale & a tossed in a morning, which hath ever been thought very wholesome, & good to keep the stomach occupied, though continual tippling ale knights in places of misrule do greatly sometimes abuse it: yet of itself being moderately taken it is nevertheless to be allowed, & it is worthy of commendation, as appeareth by this old verse following: sanat, confortat, exhilarat nobilis ala, & dat jucundum, nappalis ala viruum. Thus you may s● to keep your body in perfect health, it is the most necessary thing the is required at your hands, to keep it still from emptiness: & even so is it with your mind, if you will keep it in good order, admit as seldom as yond can the company of idleness: for being idle you are like a man that knoweth a number of mad men to stand in a place with naked sword in their hands and yet ventures s●arke naked among them and so is killed: and would you not judge this wilful man guilty of his own death? surely he is, and although he cannot live again to this world to receive worldly punishment, for that his so heinous offence, yet in hell he is sure to hang, which is a place of punishment everlasting for all such like obstinate, desperate, and wicked offenders and even so is it with you when you are idle, for than you hazard yourself thus far, you know full well that being idle if the devil be not with you presently, he will not long ●ary from you: and then if obstinately you will still continue in idleness, and make him away to creep further and further, into your head, and so at length to possess your whole body, are not you then as guilty of your own death as he which kylles himself? if you continue so long in idleness, till the devil (creeping so closely as you can never perceive him) gins to dip in his foot, then surely you are almost past remedy: but you may sometime perchance be idle, and ●et presently fall to some exercise again, and then it will be the less hurtful unto you, so long as no vice hath taken possession: and now by this means, since idleness is but a possibility to draw a man to wicked sin: and the other, which is to be ill occupied, is a sin in act already committed, though (as I have said) they be both so nought as never to be● allowed: yet of the two in mine opini● idleness is the less evil.   

Idleness  
Now truly sir, my goodwill stande● upon thorns, till it hath yielded d●● thanks according to your deserved ourtesye, and were it not for the common proue● be which daily is had in remembrance, that too much of any thing is stark nought, I would doubtless spend some time wherein it should appear, I should not be mindful of this your friendly counsel: but knowing your haste unto other affairs, lest I should keep you to long, I will briefly proceed according to the first cause of my coming unto you: and therefore now sir, this is the other matter, wherein I am to crave your advise.  
The lively and cunning workmanship in the form and favour of a man, so far passeth, and excelleth all earthly and artificial skill, as it is not meet to be named in any speech of comparison, with any earthly or worldly thing: and therefore here I dare but faintly speak thereof: yet for experience and learning sake, let me be bold here at this time to crave this one thing of you, to single out and chose secretly unto yourself the most amiable and well favoured face that possibly may be seen, with the rarest and most comely parsonage that by any means can be found, admitting the workmanship of nature so perfectly set forth in him, as not to be reprehendable, so much as in one title touching his form & beauty, and then (committing your external censes, with the cumlines & beauty of his outward parsonage to silence) convey that secret insight of your profound judgement into the inward parts of the said comely man, & if there after a while having made sufficient search and view in every corner, you find that nature hath not so much as vouchsafed one dram of wit in his head, nor so much as on good quality in his mind, I pray you then dissemble not your conceit in him, but tell me plainly how you would esteem of the man.   

Student  
Your request is very reasonable, though something hard, yet not so hard as necessary to be understood: I account it hard because (though nature beareth the name) God is the chiefest workman, of this most cunning and skilful piece of work, which here you have described. Therefore if suddenly I should give any rash judgement therein, my such unadvised answer would procure the less credit unto my speech. But to satisfy your request, my opinion is this: admitting him to be according to your description well favoured and comely of parsonage, if therewith he hath neither wit, nor any one commendable or skilful quality besides, yet you ought not any thing at all to despise him: for though he differs perhaps greatly from you in beauty & favour, and something in comeliness of shape (wherein he far excelleth you) and you perhaps differ likewise from him as greatly in wit with many skilful & cunning qualities of the mind, wherein on the other side you do as far pass and go beyond him. ●et in truth you be both made of one mould, and he that gave unto him that comely parsonage & shape of man could as well have given him the unseemliest shape, and form of the most ugliest beast in the world, from whom also your great gifts of wisdom and understanding, doth likewise proceed, whom as well he could have made a very natural fool. and therefore to be short, though shaving entered according to your request into the boweiles, and inward parts of this man) I do plainly see that wisdom & those qualities to be wantige in him, which do flow in you, and that goodly and comely parsonage which is in him, to be likewise wanting in you: yet I can no way see any great difference of estimation which rightly and lawfully can be had or made between you: he is as p●rfite a man in every part either outwardly or inwardly▪ to serve that intent and purpose, for the which he was made as you, and you as he.   

Idleness.  
Sir (not in manner as reprehending you, but with most hearty thanks) you have troubled yourself further than my intent was in this motion at the first to have troubled you, & done more than I durst desire you: my meaning was not to have craved your judgement and opinion in the dutiful & equal estimation, which every man ought to bear one toward an other, in that we be all brothers, and as children of one father: but according to the common course of the world (which is, as foreigners & strangers, every man to pull out his next neighbour's throat, for the gaining to himself a halfpenny) how here would you judge he should be esteemed.   

Student.  
As for my trouble it hath not been great, for your thanks I do as little look, and your mind I do very well now understand, and as for mine opinion in him according to the common course of the world, it may so fall out, that you & I therein shall mecte both in one mind, for the way is so plain as a blind man almost may easily keep the path I think he shall be taken and reputed in this world as a gay and goodly painted sheath made at the first for some choice & special good mettalled knives which now (by misfortune being lost, or rashly cast away) is ●amde full of dirty dross, and rotten sticks: or otherwise as a brave and lofty house, erected perhaps at the first, and maintained long by some famous, wise, and noble Prelates, and now inhabited, by a most infamous, ignorant, and base pack of spendalles. Who certainly be persuaded (bearing so goodly a house upon there heads, though they have little wit therein besides: and commonly as little money in their purses) that they be all in such general and great estimation: as they judge the very birds of the air, which by chance light upon their houses, comes of purpose to yield them honour.  
Whereas of truth, if some liberal sparing wise men were in their roomths, and by chance commttinge some such wanton and prodigal oversight, they would rather think to themselves, that those birds came for to accuse them of their vain and prodigal folly. But contrary to their such most ignorant and blind persuasions, the World, doth altogether disallow and condemn them t●ough perhaps near unto their such stately and gallant seats, many knavish dissembling & flattering merchants, will subtelye give them many a cap and leg, more for there meat and drinks sake, then either for love or fear, which the prodigal man doth sy●dome see or understand, nor yet doth remember the old proverb, no craft to the clouted , which (but by ● grave wise, politic, and liberal sparing men) never was nor ever shall be kept in any good or peaceable order, where one blind man leadeth an other, they both 〈◊〉 commonly into some dyke, where two or many fools be, and one of them appointed to oversee an other. They never leave scratching or biting. Where among many ignorants that have small understanding, as little wit, & less knowledge in any thing at all, one of them notwithstanding doth always guide, & teach an other, how can they find, or if as blind men by chance they stumble upon and find, how can they keep the right & plain way, unto what place soever they seek: what joy would therebe (think you) among the poor britching boys, and grammar school children, if it might be lawful for one of them to govern and teach an other, how joyful would they be if they might have more masters than one or two, or half a dozen: for then many a waghalter would be in good hope, that when one of his masters for some offence should go about to britch him, some of the others perhaps for affections sake will labour as fast to save him, whereof being divided, they may fall into some jar among themselves, and thereby the unhappy wag may happily escape a scouring. Truly to be short, I think in every thing, one ignorant must needs lead an other ignorantly, one blind man doth lead an other blindly, one fool an other foolishly: pa●ke and put to gather many crafty and subtle men, there shall be nothing but devising continually to wrangle, and one to deceive an other: knit likewise to together a knot of knaves, you shall see nothing but cozenage, quarellig, brawling and fight. Perhaps you will say to me, then join wise men together, and they no doubt must needs very well agree: but the corruption of this world is such, as I find by experience (though it be against reason, in that wisdom is so sure and perfect a guide unto them) that they will oftentimes, and greatly jar. But where you will have the wisdom and policy of man to bear any sway, place him not to govern and command his equals, and much less his superiors. But whom is he to command and rule? let him be in place of authority above them, and then either for fear or love they will obey him.  
Admit the chief captain in a field of equal countenance, authority, and rule with many of his Soldiers, think you that they would leng agree. I think rather that the whole camp by their continual disagrementes, that I am in as great authority as thou: and I as thou▪ would very easily and soon be overthrown and therefore according to wisdom and policy, one chief & head school master in every school, doth always and only bear the greatest sway, though sometime he hath divers ushers under him: one chief governor and ruler in every field (though with many under captains and petty leaders) and not without great counsel of wise and expert men, doth always bear the sword of rule, and even so in every like.  
But where you would have the blind man well led, let his leader be of perfit and sound sight, where you will have the crafty dissembling, and subtle man the simple fools, the veriest knaves, the common clouted shoes, and all other sorts what so ever, kept in their dutiful due, and comely good order, I would not have you couple together like to like, though the old saying may be had in remembrance. Simile amat simile, for it is most commonly proved to be true, that man oftentimes loveth that, which commonly doth him most harm.  
But commit them under the government and rod of the most gravest, wise, and politic ushers that possibly may be ●ound. Whereby the more likely you shall keep them in awe: and thus my friend to finish my answer unto your question, as hear you may perceive, the great wisdom and grave government is not only needful and requisite, but very necessary for the maintenance of every godly & gorgeous house, and as well for the government of a common wealth, and that no man (have he never so gallant or brave a seat) is esteemed in this world and common wealth worthy of rule, honour, and dignity, unless his wisdom and policy in good government be agreeable thereunto, even so is it with your well-favoured and parsonable man, which according to your description wanteth both wit and all good quantyes.   

Idleness.  
Sir you have not now only resolved me of my question but you have entered (according to your saying that we should both meet in a mind) into the very same path wherein ● myself had determined to walk before a turn or two: for though my question was of a most well-favoured and straight ●●●de man, yet the cause thereof was this outward gorgeous, & inward naked house, which you have here described, whereof intending to use some speech upon a sentente of the most famous and learned orator M. T Cicero I thought good to be bold first to creep (by the said simile of the man) into some part of your judgement therein: wherein now with most hearty thanks you have very well served my turn   

Student.  
If I have any way pleasured you, I am very glad but whereas it seemeth by your words, your intent was to use some speech, let not any thing that I have said, hinder or stay your proceeding for if it be well or any thing tolerable I will allow thereof: if otherwise I will wish it amended.   

Idleness,  
Sir nothing doubting of your friendly acceptance and good counsel: this is the sentence whereupon I first grounded my purpose and intent.  M. T. Cicero. 
Non domo dominus, sed domino domus honoranda est.   

Idleness  

Who list to build a lofty house,  
intending there a portly state  
Had need lay well his wits in sauce,  
to keep them fresh within his pate.   

A pouldring tub if rightly used,  
and seasoned duly to his kind:  
Which always yields his liquor sweet:  
and pleased the taste of every mind.   

For buildings brave be easily made  
but hardly then they be mayntaind,  
If not by tricks of wisdoms trade,  
which teach vain toys to be refrainde,   

But he that should such toys set down  
as wisdom wish we should not use,  
Might see himself in folly drown  
in that most men would him refuse   

For who sees not the world is bend  
to pomp and praise in every thing,  
And nothing well if wisely syent  
hath eyes, but they be flattering.   

Conceits of cost, without measure,  
are now so grown into delight.  
As where no toy there no pleasure,  
which pleaseth not the wanton sight.   

Therefore since we have wealth at will  
and time in pleasure mind to spend,  
To have of our delights our fill,  
let us ourself ro feasting bend.   

And now how shall th●s pleasant day  
or drousey if it so befall,  
Be brought to end and past away?  
Good cheer saith some is best of all,   

And then now whether shall we sail,  
to him saith one, where dainty fare  
And delicates do never fail.  
nor yet of cost is any spare.   

For there a world of wanton wights  
weshall not miss, but find most brave  
We can not wish for more delights  
than there at all times, we may have.   

We shall not there be bid welcome  
to such poor fare as we shall find,  
Nor yet see things only handsome,  
but passing fine of every kind.   

For beef, veal mutton, pork or sauce,  
geese capons▪ hens with all such like▪  
They feed the servants in the house▪  
and all of dainties v●e must pick,   

With ●ausy salads of all sorte●  
of taste pleasant, with cos● plenty▪  
Whereof an hundred by reports,  
will hardly one mau●atisfy.   

No common bread we shall need eat  
b●● cast●●●, towers, and towns of gold  
In subject paste, with cost so great  
as seldom hath the like been could   

Nor yet need we drink ale or bear,  
choice of Wines be there so plenty,  
And dainty lips fit for such cheer  
that house is never long empty.   

Therefore now let us (as I say)  
since time of pleasure serves so well  
Go pass away this pleasant day  
with him that bears away the bell.    

Student.  

Oh friend I sigh to hear your vain,  
and how this wanton world is bend  
To bring a virtue in disdain,  
which is when wealth is wisely spent.   

For than it ought to be of right,  
accounted liberality  
When otherwise in wisdoms sigh●  
it is but prodigality,   

If this which you have said be true  
as seems experience hath you taught  
Wisdom might make your heart to ru●  
that you so oft such vice have sought.    

Idleness,  

Why sir, say you thus of to this,  
as though it were a pain to hear  
Young men delight in fantasies  
with honest mirth and dainty cheer.    

Student.  

I truly it is thought a pain  
to all wile ●en that ever written  
That heads so young should beat their brain  
to stroy such as they spy to do●e:   

For wisdom warneth us to reach  
the ignorantes how to avoid  
Destruction, yea wrack, or breach  
espying them therewith annoyed   

And not to trip the blind man down,  
with joy to see him ●umbling there  
For so you may deserve the crown  
of knavery which many wear,   

The which I would be loath to see  
my friend should wear a●token plain  
Of fol●y fixed in him to be.  
which with the wise bread great disdain   

But since we be all well agreed  
to pass sometime in pleasant cheer  
We will not seem to hunt for need  
nor yet to buy our sport so dear   

That with return our friends shall see  
our credits are so cracked with shame  
As some sweet syrup suckers be.  
for then of right deserve we blame.   

Such wanton steps wewil not tread▪  
as to allure our friends to charge.  
Since captain Vanity such doth lead,  
as love to cloy their friends at large   

For by such ●oyes as you have named,  
it is well known that many men  
Of much great wealth have been so lamed,  
as now to begging they must lean.   

Who therefore will be partner.  
with such vain wanoring heads at all,  
Must think himself the woithier  
to bear such blame as doth befall.   

But if you will take my advise,  
with such delights as I think good  
We will not choose our fa●e so nice,  
nor yet such Host of wanton mood.   

The ancient house we all know well,  
which shoring stands upon the hill,  
Where such were ever want to dwell,  
as always had their wit at will:   

They ever took delight to lean  
unto the saying of the wise,  
That measure is a merry mean  
and please all men of honest guise,   

Which hath them taught to guide so right,  
that house in hospitality,  
As come or go by day or night.  
they will not feed your jollity   

But for all plenty of good fare,  
no place to bounty more is bend,  
You shall not there find dishes bare  
nor yet see want of what is spent   

As for pastimes, with pleasures fit,  
for gentlemen both young and ●●ld,  
You can nor wish by any wit,  
more meat, if you be wisely bold.   

And can your woes so wind at will,  
as to be fit at each rebound.  
To main with some pretty skill  
the ball of wit which tossed is round.   

For there you shall not only have  
your hunger fed with wholesome cheer▪  
But you shall find delight to crave  
such pleasures oft to see and hear.   

It is not like your gluttons far  
which happily lasteth for a year  
For here a wise man rules with care,  
and scrapes away all folly clear.   

Therefore since now we be so light  
as ●apors, which the sun draws up  
To be alluerd by weather bright,  
let us first drink of follies cup.   

And then if all agree thereto  
this idle time to pass away,  
As marchpaind mouthed wantoness do  
we will soon spend this pleasant day   

And thus we see in every place  
most men to this have great desire.  
With who shall show the lustiest face  
in costly, fine, and brave attire,   

Which yields them honour as they think,  
in places where they be not known▪  
And so from place to place they slink.  
and wears perhaps more than their own   

Whereby such thankless gluttons feed  
themselves full oft in many a place  
Where many such as have more need  
dare not for shame once show their face.   

For he that wears not cloth of gold  
with ●atten, velvet, or such like  
Must not among such gay●● be bold,  
as though he should his mates there seek   

When he perhaps that wears his cote  
most plain i● oft the better man,  
Which wise men always well do note:  
and yet mend none do what they can.   

But such as peddlers packs do bear●  
if they by wealth advanced be  
He that should spy them fitting there,  
and tell them of this fond decree.   

Might luckily leap to save his head  
from knocks, if they might him well rea●  
For that in steed of sugar bread.  
he sliceth them such sower leech.   

And yet to end I do admit  
the meanest man deserve may well  
Among the best sometime to sit  
if wealth be won by great travel.   

Or else by virtue of learning  
which doth the meanest man of all  
(As our experience daily bring)  
to honour high most easily call.   

Whereto when they advanced be,  
by force of virtues painful trade.  
They well deserve in their degree  
such honour as by laws are made   

And yet from whence the vines do spring  
of all virtues that ever were,  
As in the schools of deep learning,  
●●ea● reasons swarm, who best should bea●   

But there they rest and all agree,  
as bees which buzz abroad while,  
That learning well deserves the fee  
of honour great, with noble style.   

And he whose wits most wisely wrist  
nobility longest to preserve,  
Must best be thought among the rest  
of right his honour to deserve.    

Idleness  
SIr, you have now bound me by duty to give you most hearty thanks that thus friendly you have been content (for this short time) to banish yourself from your so earnest, grave, and profound study, to accompany me with your friendly conceit in th●se my deign and idle inventions. And therefore now lest I should so long here at this time keep you walking with me in this my path of vanity, as hereafter when we shall have like occasion to trouble you in craving your company again, you shall be unwilling to grant the spending of any time (which is the most precious ●ewell in the whole world) with such an endless busy, and idle running brain: I leave hear at this time to trouble you any further, commending you unto God, & to your seat and chair of study from whence you came.   

Student  
Friend Idleness, though perhaps I am not so curious or coy in spending of my time for good fellowship and company sake, as you suppose and think me to be: yet I may not any way blame you, but rather do very well allow of this your such ready conceit, & reasonable speech, wherein you seem not only unwilling greatly to assure or entice me unto any folly: But also as loath, long to hold or keep me in any path of idleness or vanity. For true it is, that notwithstanding most willingly hitherto, I have concented to bestow both time and speech according to your request: yet as true it is, I would be very loath to consume or spend any long time in such frivolous and vain devices. Though for the company of my friend I can sometime be content to wade with him in some smooth, clear & shallow flash of folly: yet I confess I would be very loath to adventure so far with him as to swim in any rongh, dark, or bottomless pit or puddle of wicked & filth vice. I would be loath with a king to drown in folly, though with my meanest friend (as I have said) I can be content to wade therein: willingly I would not (if I could otherwise choose) go to far in any thing. But bearing always in mind the warning of a wise man to leave the Rack, and Manger, and to take a snatch and away, with small hindrance unto any of my weighty affairs. I can at any time in any honest and comely toy of delight or pleasure, recreate myself and accompany my friend.  
But now as seems unto me, perhaps you have an idle and wanton turn or two secretly to walk by yourself, wherein you would not have me willingly behold your gesture: & therefore cunningly craving the riddance of my company (as though for fear of offence) you commend me to my chair, whereunto being very well content to grant you your such secret, and cunning request, I am as willing to go, and in likemanner as you commended me unto God, I also in the same friendly manner, commend you not unto him but to your own invention. wishing you to remember your own counsel now in yourself, & not to walk to long in any your paths of vanity. Yet I doubt very much (friend Idleness) to dissuade you from vanity, for it will most certainly persuade a great number to accuse me of vain folly, and perhaps I may so deeply incur ● displeasure of so many as during life ever after, (turn which way I will) the blame of my such folly▪ shall still continually be blown in my face: for setting curiosity aside, to be plain, when your thick, and bushy beeghly head (in shape much like to a hedge hog half unclosing himself, and shewing his bare and naked face) lieth rolled under an apron, and tumbling in your sweet hearts and wantoness la●, busying the wabling belclarppe of your so vain and idle body, so greatly to her good liking and pleasure every wa●, as she seemeth not only loath to leave your company, but rather longing still to continued her such pastime, in playing with the soft and gentle pricks of that your rowlinge and idle pate, and sometime perhaps at your oft request and flattering enticement: yielding with her smooth and tender lips to honour your hard and bruselled mouth. If then (this merry gale of wind, this stirring betwixt you, cuppling your ships together, and sailing outward in your voyage of delight) you bluntly by chance should bolt cute this my friendly persuasion (though secretly vouchsafed upon you) moaning my speech the cause of your departure, unto that your loving & wanton mouse, and in the midst of all your pleasure offer so to depart, then shall my secret, (though undeserved) & pinching pains begin, then shall I be so toast from tongue to tongue, from mouth to mouth, from place to place, and so sharply and shrewishly shaken up among so many, as doubtless it were a thousand times better for any man, in the like pitiful case a 'mong them (though not as a dog) to be tossed in a blanket: they will say, let old grayberde keep his counsel to himself. We will crave at his hands, his grave advise, when we think good: because now by continuance of time, he is become from a clerk to a parish priest, could he now be content to have no clerks at all? could he now find in his heart to be reader, singer and bell-ringer, and all in his parish alone, surely it were not amiss if he were well applied, and kept to his tackle but one month, and then no doubt we shall see him come creeping lasisy home with weary limnies: and then if any man will offer to take a rope out of his hand, you shall see he will be as ready & as willing to let it go as ever he was in his life to take it up: then shortly after, you shall hear he will as openly publish it, to be a deed of charity to help the weak and surcharged man, as he hath already secretly whispered in disallowing the wanton service of the strong and youthful bodies, and then will confess that a helping hand is ●euer to be blamed, & especially in those things which must needs be done.  
Therefore weighing well the vanity of his speech, let us not so easily part, as to break of all good company for a white hair. Friend Idleness I know this will be their saying: & besides this, I know you have many hangers on, very diligent & daily students, desirous to imitate you in this your idle art, and to learn your cunning slayghtes in rocking in Venus' lap, pricking in, and pickling out sometimes pinhes out of her pi●case, thrumming of apern strings & with many other idle devices: and there fore friend injury, since in disswadinge you according to my former speech, I shall seem topersuade many a thousand from that which they will be very loath to leave, and in so vainly wasting my wind shall appear as much an idle pack as the best, I recant my former persuasion, and thus do commend you only hear unto your natural, vain, & idle inventions.   

Idleness.  
Sir you seem so gamesome & pleasant in this your reply upon my late and friendly farewell, as I think you could be content to remainestil with me, bathing yourself in this my lazy tub (as you term it) and vessel of idle vanity: therefore know this I am not so inclined unto that vice of ingratitude, I have been so uncivisly or so unmannerly brought up▪ that when any man friendly upon good will, as though desirous of my company, shall come unto me, that then after ● while either by secret speeches or cunning gestures, I will seem so weary of him, as rather desirous of his rouseth then of himself, for truly it is nothing agreeable either unto my nature or to my bringing up and much less, when I myself shall be first desirous of his company. But I must confess you are blameless, though you did mistake me, for you cannot be so well acquainted with my nature and meaning in any thing: as I am with the natural disposition of you, and of all the world beside. I agree well with you, if I were according to the common nature and disposition of men, being in company with my friends and familiars, I would sometimes wish, and perhaps willingly c●aue rather their roomth then their company. For admitting I were as other men be, and as you yourself in your youthful days heretofore have been: then perhaps and not unlike but it might be with me as it hath been with you & many others, that some famous learned, & skilful Astronomer, hath lately been with me, and by his or her mystical and wonderful strange knowledge, hath given me certainly to understand, that such a time, day and hour, and in such a place there shall without fail appear unto me very secretly a glorious, brave and goodly blazing star: and that the place where it shall appear, must needs be free, and clear of all company, otherwise it will show itself but as a plain and common star, without any blazing or stemming at all. Perhaps I have appointed secretly to see some tumbling cast, with some pleasant and merry slayghtes of juggling tricks, and to draw more nearer unto natural & plain understanding, not unlike but I have appointed to kiss some pretty wench in a corner: and now admitting all this to be true (as in many men it is daily seen, would any of my friends, or acquaintance blame me, to show them cunningly some colour of desire to crave for a time rather their roomth then their company, I think none. There is also an other kind of people, which do likewise and very often cunningly crave the riddance of company, which be in the English phrase, the cormugions and covetous carls of this world, their natural disposition is, first to scramble and scratch together if he can a living equal with the best yeoman, gentleman, or squire in his country, then striving to shroud himself under some ragged & little cottage, to serve no further then only for necessity, or if a large or fair house, then keeping his doors continually shut as though never at home, contenting hymselse willingly, and all his household perforce with a sparing and pinching diet, doth chief feed and altogether delight himself with the oft telling and continual sight of his money, as young men commonly do themselves, in the sight of their lovers. And now admit some young heads and merry companions knowing his ability & understanding his miserable & beggarly mind husying their brains cunningly to work him some slayghty, pretty, & slipry trick, do agree among themselves upon some high & festival day, knowing that then perhaps he hath a piece of beef, a calves ●●ad or an ox foot in the pot, & do appoint ● meeting of many neighbour's the very same time to dine with him, bidden by a messenger in very good & due order, as though very sollomly bidden by him: then dinner time drawing near, service being done, & every man departing to his house, this poor, miserable & wretched miser doth sit still in his seat fearing greatly that if suddenly he should throng or press out among the thickest, some or other would so cunningly minister such occasion of talk with him, as either to shame him or else to enforce him home to dinner, but after a while looking oftentimes backward over his shoulder, and spying some still remaynig behind, not musing a little at the meanig thereof, at length rise th' up, & pulling his cap in his eyes, passeth away by them sneaking, as though he had nothing to say or meddle with any of them all: but then every man rising up▪ with him, greatly to his admiration, and honouring him with cap and leg, accepting that his gesture as a stately and grave behaviour in him. Some of them accompany him check by cheek with friendly commendation, and great thanks for his unwonted and friendly courtesy: and the rest following after hard upon his heels, plainly to his sight intending to accompany him home to dinner, as they think like bidden and welcome guests, but as he thinks like malapert impudent, and saucy merchants: if now it were possible to behold even at this instant, with our outward eyes, the strange thoughts and imaginations of this poor, distressed, and miserable miser. I think the merriest company of stage players, that might be found in a country, would hardly make more sport than he himself would do alone: for to see how glummishly he glyeth aside, like a bear at a stake, and how many stops and turns he makes before he comes home, and how privily he bamneth them, wishing the Devil and his dam to choke them all, the sight thereof no doubt, if it were possible one horse face might laugh at an other, would make any horse in the world to break his halter, I can but wish that I had either Apelles or Zeuxes skill, in the science of painting and that I could as perfectly paint him, with his countenance according to my imagination, as Zeuxes painted his grapes, or as Apelles his sheet, which were so cunningly done on both parts, as ever since to be had in great estimation, but never to be paternd: the one of them Zeuxes, (as our books do report) among many other of his notable works, painted (as before named) a naked boy with a bunch of grapes as though growing upon his shoulders, which were so perfit to the outward sight, as the very birds of the air, came and lited upon the boy's shoulder & continually picked upon the grapes, and though they found no sa●: yet as appeared by their oft resort, they could not be persuaded, but the grapes they must needs be, and in that they could never pick out any juice, they seemed rather to impute it to the bluntness of the bills, then to the dryness of the grapes: for they went continually to a stone which was fast by, and always whet their bills and so still continued their resort until it was taken away. The other painter Apelles hearing of this excellent piece of work, destred Zeuxes that a day might be appointed of meeting betwixt them two before some gentlemen of their friends & acquaintance, and to pass away sometime, and to delight the sight of their friends desired him to bring of his works, what he thought good, & that he would do the like, whereunto Zeuxes agreeing at the day appointed among many other wonderful, strange, and notable works he brought this naked boy with the grapes upon his shoulders, Apelles among divers other like wise very cunning and skilful works, brought a table covered with a white sheet, & then in viewing every man the others works, Apelle greatly commended the perfect colour and form of the grapes, & nothing disallowing of all the rest: & then Zeuxes commending likewise (no otherwise then just cause doth require) the per●it workmanship in each point of Apelles, desired after all that he would take away the white sheet which covered his table, for he would be glad if he might to see all, them Apelles smiling to himself said, friend Zeuxes, since you are so desirous, I will not be so ingrateful as to deny you: yet my meaning was when I first brought it not ever to uncover it, because I found some fault with myself therein, & therefore was the more loath to show my fault unto strangers: but since you have done all this at my request, I will not herein deny you yours: therefore even at your pleasure go and take it of yourself, for I will be loath to condemn myself, I had rather an other man should condemn me. Then said Zeuxes, na friend Apelles, if so be that you doubt any discredit thereby. I will not desire it for any money. But Apelles answering: I force not for the discredit among my friends: take it of and spare not. Then Zeuxes drawing near unto it as one with child, till he had seen what was under, laid both his hands upon it at both sides, catching to take hold of the sheet, and suddenly finding it to be but a painted colour and no sheet in truth turned him about again, with great admiration, & said among them all, that whereas Zeuxes had cunningly (as the world thought) deceived the birds. Apelles hath here more cunningly deceived Zeuxes, for where as in truth I thought to have taken of a sheet, I have but scratchte at a painted colour of white: & thus with many other pleasant and pretty conceits Apelles at that time bore away the bell. And now if I had like skill unto either of these, whether think you that my t●me spent in painting of this man would be lost or no. But it is well known (the more is the pity for this man) I am neither Apelles nor Zeuxes, but plain idleness. And therefore nothing meet to paint him out so orderly as the natural shape and countenance of the man doth require.  
But leaving the pleasant show unto the cunning painter, & admitting this to be true (as I think it hath been put in use) could you or any man else blame this silly miserable, & wretched muckemunger or the world to be rather desirous of the roomth than of the company of these secret invited & bidden guests: surely for my part I think you cannot but rather you must hold him excused.  
Therefore sir, to conclude this my long and tedious speech perhaps unto you. If I were (as I have said before) agreeable with the common course and nature of men, you might well have gathered by my speech, that I was desirous of your roomth and cleanly ryddaunce. But mine estate & calling is such, as no company, be it ever so great can impoverish me, or diminish or take away any delight from me at all. For the more company, the greater is my riches and delight if they will content themselves with me and any diet: I am none of Shamfastes children, I blush not whosoever looks upon me. And therefore think not that I did commend you unto your study, because I was desirous (as you took it) to dance a turn or two privily or wanton alone.  
For since you seem so willing and content with my company, with all my heart, I will make you partaker in all the rest of my causes, which at this time I intend to bring in question, & besides, rather than you shall think me (as you have thought) weary of your company. If you will accept of this my art and simple skill. I came and will afford you, for every hour in the day, for every day in the year, and for every year during your life, several questions, with many pretty conceits at all times to busy and occupy yourself withal: as presently shall appear, if you will vouchsafe unto me your friendly audience.   

Student  
Friend Idleness, you say, and true it is, that you are acquainted with the nature and disposition of all estates, far better than I am, or ever shall be able to conceive, and that by reason of your long experience and continual company with all men: then must I needs now think and certainly persuade myself, that you are not now unacquainted, nor to learn the qualities of a knave. There is an old saying and oftentimes found to be true. ni, fa, pa, con: admit you were a teacher of the common people, or a schoolmaster over many children as no doubt sometime you are, being a great meddler, and busy body in any thing, & daily intruding yourself into every vocation, & calling from the highest to the lowest whatsoever, as a most idle & merry companion: staring as boldly upon a King as you do upon the meanest & plainest beggar: if a man may ask you a question: how would you open unto the common people, or how would you teach your young scholars to understand the meaning of these 4. words, ni, fa, pa, con.   

Idleness  
Sir I am no more nice in answering then I am in putting forth. But to tell you the truth (which I think you do already know) it pertains nothing at all unto me to be a teacher, though sometimes I confess I am in company with many wise and learned men. for where I accompany most, there they learn and teach least: & little or nothing tending to goodness, is everbrought in question, unless it be at a very great chance: and then also am I fain to departed as one whose company is so little esteemed, as though nothing necessary at all, & yet the meaning of this short sentence, me thinks I should easily understand, and the rather because I have hard it oft. I think (to be short) it is as much to say: as, Nimia familiaritas parit contemptum. And by this may a scholar easily understand the meaning and for the instruction of the common people, it is as much to say, as too much familiarity breedeth contempt.   

Student.  
Friend Idleness I see you are not altogether an ignorant, though you confess yourself never to be in company where any goodness is taught: as it seemeth knowledge comes to you by inspiration, but whereof I know not: you have hit the right way of play●● instruction to a Scholar: but as to the common people, you have left it as raw as you found it, though you have spoken it in English, for the ignorant & common people do as well understand English, for the most part, as they understand greek: though sometime understanding nothing they verily think they understand all: and understanding as much as a block, they think the greatest doctor in the world can hardly amend them, yet they will say, is it not english? and am not I an English man? why than I pray you may not I understand it? but it may be answered, are there not many English men ignorants? yes, why may not you then be an English ignorant, but there is an old proverb, ignorance is an enemy to knowledge, it is commonly seem, an ignorant man will always find faults and disallow of those things wherein he hath no skills, and finds a fault where no fault is to be found, and especially when impudence is joined unto his ignorance: for than he will profess himself before either his prince or any wise or learned counsel, thinking his own wit (when he is a very fool) to be best of all? but as the old saying is: who is so bold as blind bayard? who thinks he knows more than he that knows nothing at all: for the wise & learned will say, hoc solum scio quod nihil scio. I only know this that I know nothing at al. And the fool saith, what know not I? whereupon the wise man saith with the Physician it is time for wise men to hold there peace, when every fool will be a Physician. And therefore my friend to make this plain English more plain as well unto you as to the common people: whereas you say, to much familiarity breedeth contempt: this is yet as I have said hard latin unto the common people, for it is impossible ever to be to familiar with a wise & honest man, how therefore now can this sentence seemetrue in all, since it can not be sometime to much it can not always breed contempt: and therefore though the sentence of itself be true, yet to the common understanding you have opened it to darkly. the plain english is this: to much familiarity breedeth contempt, that is, to be checkmate at any time, & hail fellow to much with a knave or a fool, and no doubt he will take thereby such impudent courage, as after a while you shall find to be most true, that he will not greatly stick in any company what soever, to spit in your mouth when you pass the Streets talking with your friend, he will not be ashamed to come and colle you about the neck, if you chance in friendly manner to give him but one friendly word, or merry look, you shall not fail of a thousand again, with many a counterfeit wrong shapen & crooked countenance if so courteously sometime by chance you entertain him as to set him at your board, you shall find him sometime in your lap when you would wish him further of: if at any time for your pleasure's sake, you will vouchsafe to talk with him in the presence of his betters. Afterwards perhaps when you shall be reasoning with your friend, he will be ready with his saucy tongue to have a chop at every word that shall proceed from your mouth, and thinks it a glory unto him if he be a mean man, your inferior a knave or a fool, that he may so boldly chop logic with one that is so far above him, and his better,  
And what is the common speech sometime of the veriest knave in a country? will not he say, (being always in quarrel and continual ●ar with his neighbours, giving them oft times his own name) the proudest ●●aue of you all shall offer me no wrong, I can go to my Lord and to my ●adye, and to the best gentleman in the shire early or late, to dinner or to supper, or at any time when soever I Just, I can speak as boldly unto them as I can unto my fa●●●ltar friend & brother, when a thousand such drummedaries and plain knaves, as you be, must stand at the door, or if you chance to come in, then with cap in hand, and many a low courtesy. And therefore you plain knaves of the country: how da●e you abuse me (he might say) the capital and captain knave of the world: & how can the poor country man answer him since oftentimes they find and see these his sayings to be true. They have nothing u● the world to say, but when the knave is out of sight, then to whisper among themselves, and say, the more knave the better luck: it we could as cunningly play the knaves, as he, we should eat sometime venison, and have other good there among the best, as well as he: but since our bringing up hath not been to bear cunningly two faces in one hood: or like the subtle wolf, to go wrapped in a lambs skin, or like a crafty and flattering knave to keep continual company among gentlemen in authority and rule, as though he were the honest est man in the world: we must content ourself as many honest poor men do, to put up, daily injury and wrong at many an arrant knaves hand. The crafty knave doth continually pick out more friendship with his Tongue then the simple man ever could with his enforced and lamentable tears. Yet we must needs agree that tears at all times are not to be pitied, for often times in a man they be token great dissembling, unless his cause be the greater, and to a woman some will say they be natural, and take away her tears, take away her life: & therefore the less to be blamed, though sometime she weeps for every trifle: for we see by experience that she will weep & laugh, and both with one mind oftentimes very heartily, and that most commonly without any disgrace to her credit or favour at all: it shows plainly that she will soon be angry & soon pleased, and therein she keeps still the nature of the soft and gentle child, & he that offers a child wrong, hath but small wit and discretion: it hath seldom been seen, that malice could never rust in a woman's heart: where it continually ebbs & flows there remaineth little corruption the continual running rivers we see always most clear at the bottom, & the standing puddles continually full of ●ilth: cast as much gravel & stones into the one as you can, and shortly after with one flow you shall see it as clean at the bottom as it was before: cast as much and as little as you will into the other, if you come 7. year after you shall find it still at the bottom. this standing puddle we see is never clean, but once in 7 year it hardly escapes unfyde, either with a muckrom or with a sword's point. The other we see it so continually clear, as it needs not to be side. in the one we see ducks and geese continually swilling and bibling for toads▪ in the other we see fisher men with their silver hooks continually angling for fish, with great pastime and pleasure, the one is for the hog to wallow in & sometime for the Ox and the Cow to drink in, that other for gentlemen to hake at, & sometimes perhaps to water their nags in: & thus if your eye sight be any thing clear, you may plainly see that tears at a woman's eye, be tokens in her a mild and gentle heart, clear at the bottom from all envy and malice, though sometimes perhaps at the first it begins of a cursed and a shrewish stomach, as for disgrace which sometimes it brings unto the favour of her face, it is with women as it is with men: it is a comely sight in some man to look a fit like a lion, in some other it is a thing very unseemly.  
Speech and continual talking, becometh some men very well: few words or rather continual silence, becometh an other man as well, it is a good sight to see some men in costly and gorgeous apparel, according to the vanity of the time, to see other some it is as good a sight as to see a cur dog in a satin doublet: for a pretty spaniel it is a great deal better. Is it not a good & commendable sight to behold some man in his side gown and white sirples, and every way beside in the best and most comely attire which pertaineth to a grave and divine minister? Doth not a short coat a pair of high buckled shoes, and a cap with a button on the crown, become an other man as well in his vocation (as the country husband man) is it not as good a sight to see an egregious offender, and a common breaker of the Prince's laws punished according to his offence, as it is to see the obedient and true subject, continually cherished and made of? to be short, what soever is thought comely for an honest man, is never thought meet for a knave, and though sometime he puts it on it makes him appear but a counterfeit. Put a beluet coat upon a known natural, and common fool, is he not more to be laughed at then if he were in his pied cot●: bring an egregious and known knave in place to play the part of an honest man, were it not a thing rather to be laughed at then commended? unless he meant never to revert again, which is ●ildeme seen? in the behaviour of man, there be many jests, and experience teacheth us that every one of them becomes not every man alike. But always according to the natural dispotition and bringing up of the man, they ye the their comely and uncomely grace in him, even so is it (to come unto my purpose) as I have said among the women: for that which doth very well set forth & become one woman, doth as greatly disgrace & disuiger an other. but there a straw: in that I know (as I have said, women be soon angered, and then without a sudden ebb, theirharts' will soon sink in sorrow, therefore I will not meddle to far with them. yet thus much I hope I may boldly say with the philosopler, who spoke more in commendation of the tears of a woman (being rightly weighed) than I will at this time utter, that a tear at some woman's eye doth yield far more beautiful and comely grace unto the favour of her, than the fairest and best diamond that may be found doth unto the prettiest ring, or most precious jewel in the world: and thereupon that philosopher said, that a tear in many a woman's eye is a pearl in a man's. But leaving the Philosopher with all his skill, they never proceed heartily from them (I think surely) with out some great cause of unkindness or grief. But as is said, with men no doubt, for the most part it is taken for dissembling, & yet often we see, they are enforced thereto by naturethough it can not excuse them. But friend Idleness, this leads us with the Lapwing clean from our matter, touching the behaviour of a knave, & the construction of my late demand, and whereunto I have replied according to your answer, as I have thought good: for I have showed you a more plainer Construction of the sentence which I put forth unto you, than you in my judgement did make at the first & therefore now what think you of my construction made thereof.   

Idleness.  
Sir to give up shortly mine opinion (being very loath ●o hinder or interrupt your purpose in any speech at this time) to my knowledge, you have opened no more than is true: but whether you have declared all the truth thereof or no I know not.   

Student  
No friend Idleness I mean not to beat my brains to open all that is true, for if I could do so I might fill a house or rather a whole country full of books, which were unfit for any idle body to take in hand. But admitting (as you have granted) that all I have said is true, I have sufficiently obtained my desire, for than I hope as you in your first question propounded unto me, crept into my judgement, by a simile, & thereby (as you said) gathered mine opinion in a further matter which served your turn: even so now have I as well served mine, in that you have confessed my construction of the sentence put forth unto you, to be true in every point: for now I think you will easily see & soon confess your own fault.  
Therefore friend injury call your wits together, and remember well yourself when you first took occasion to press yourself into my company, desirous as you seemed very friendly to crave sometime of conference with me, finding your speech and behaviour so agreeable unto my good liking, I was content to entertain & admit you into my society and company, as heretofore hath appeared, and to allow of your familiar & bold speech, as if you had been my chief companion and mate: & now you vaunt of your victory, that you have won me to lie bathing myself with you in your lazy and idle tub with your alluring sweet water of vanity. And now as though I would not wish the spending of one hour willingly without your company: you offer yourself to hang about my neck, as though you were with me hail fellow well met. But friend idleness, when I first entertained you (I find now as a bold jest) I meant nothing less, nor yet do I mind, to wrap you (as gentlemen & gentlewomē●o their ribonds & chains) about my neck. I would be loath to be seen carrying you (as beggars do their children) upon my back: therefore since upon this small familiarity vouchsafed upon you (as one of shameless children) you begin to creep upon my back, no doubt you will shortly fulfil my former speech, to spit into my mouth. But friend idleness, neither my neck nor my mouth be any fit places for you, I have otherways to employ them: & now setting partiality aside, be your own judge whether the old saying, to much familiarity breedeth contempt, be here found true in you or no: and when you know yourself to be the vainest member in the word, then strive not to dally any further with me in defending or answering of any thing, for I mind no longer to trouble myself, nor to spend any more time in hearing your idle devices: therefore where as you say, you can feed me with idle questions every hour in the day, every day in the year, and every year during my life, if I will but grant you audience: I wish you rather to bestow them and yourself also where you list: and thus in stid of audience I grant you here my rounth. It hath been an old saying, many geese many birds, many women many words: but you have idle talk plenty for a whole country, both of men & women, therefore soon as to late, I yield unto you the game betimes.   

Idleness.  
If I should thus be left at every hand, I might well then go and seek a companion in the Skies. But this is nothing strange unto me, for I am oftentimes thus banished and sent away & yet after a while presently sometime and privily entertained again.  
But since now for a time I am very like to be left here all alone, I will employ myself according to the idleness of the place.   

Idleness  
Primus iucundus tolle-RANDVS, ATQVE secundus tertius est vanus: sed fetat quatridianus.  

Primus.  

Who geastwise gape at every feast  
his host the first time heartily  
Saith welcome sir, among the rest,  
and joys to feed his fantasy,    

Secundus.  

But if the sweetness of the fare,  
glue still the glutton there to stay,  
And that he pine, if he should spare  
to press again the like assay.   

The goodman then for manners sake  
will bid him welcome as his friend,  
Content his folly so to take,  
as though there were no more behind.    

Tertius.  

But then if there such root remain  
of shameless shifts so ripe in him  
As that he can not yet refrain,  
But still in folly's puddle swim.   

He shall the third time come in vain,  
with words of welcome none at all,  
And must have scarcely for his pain,  
one drop of drink unless he call.    

Quatridianus.  

The fourth, the fault doth smell amain  
go place sir smell roast then in hall,  
Or with lack drum me him entertain  
without the doors with dogs to brawl.   

His stomach stamps, as hunger slain,  
to gorge such guests it is a pain.  
Who wisely can himself so strain  
to match such mates shall greatly gain   

For now such suckpaps old do ●aygne,  
which after dugs that drop good chea●  
Do so much daily fond and fain,  
as no place can from them be clear,     

For wearing of rings.  

FOr that it is a proverb old,  
the winners may best wear the gold  
We knubby knuckels rusty rough  
do see more fit to lead the plough,  
Which fond to see their fingers shine,  
in steed of fat, with golden mine   

But wisely weighed it is most vain  
and brings such things in get disdain,  
When rings be knacks for every knave  
for then no wisemen will them crave   

But were it trim to ring the nose  
I think I might soon find out those  
That would to please their dainty girls  
rend that with ring and precious pearls.   

Disorder marreth every thing  
so doth miswearing of your ring,   

Cost is comely where order is  
good order therefore should not miss  
And such as wear them as they ought  
the worthier than shall they be thought   

But some men think and so do I  
that nature's flesh when it is bare,  
Without such pearls or paultery  
if fair, is fittest for the glare.   

For when dame Venus plainly shows  
herself in natures naked weed  
Your eyes then fly not after crows,  
but slays to feed your wanton need.   

To this the wisest men of all  
As we see daily they be thrall   

But as for pearls of precious stones  
they pass not for they be but toys,  
And gaudy geaugawes for the nonce,  
which they account as childish joys.   

But since they have been greatly used  
though much perhaps by some abused  
It is not good to take away  
such comely costly gold array.   

But who so useth it aright  
reserves the thumb as for the knight  
And here in order as they lie,  
your finger rings you may apply.   
Miles, Marcator, Stultus, nuptie, & amator.  
☞ ☜  
To wear the ring upon the thum is for the Knight.  
The forefinger for the Merchant.  
The middle finger for the Fool  
The third finger for the married man.  
The little finger for the Lover.  
☞ ☜  

The Knight saith in his ring,  
no vaunt to victory.   

The Merchant in his.  
no foe to Fortune.   

The Fool in his  
no cost to colours.   

The Married man in his  
no jar to jealousy.   

The lover in his  
no friend to faith.   

1  
The Knight in field in armour clad,  
in eye of foes which fain his fall  
He saith he sighs when truce is had:  
no vaunt to victory great or small.   

2 The merchant sailing in his Ship,  
With traffic far and near for gain,  
Still doubring lest he once should slip,  
no foe to fortune saith he plain.   

3 The Fool in folly fettered fast,  
led forth fond fancies most to crave  
He cares not what doth waste or last.  
no cost to colours (saith he) brave.   

4. The married man great griefs endure,  
and oft his heart new pangs supply,  
And yet nothing can him allure  
but saith no jar to jealousy,   

5 The lover lives and reaps the joys  
of all the world, and thus he saith  
Where true love lacks the rest be joys  
the earth doth bear no friend to faith.   

The rich man restless loath to hear  
of all sorts some to speak their mind.  
And he to seem of couldst cheer.  
Who can them all in wealth outwinde.   

Saith (tumbling up his rusty bags  
loath to see his glistering gold  
Abroad to fly like tattered rags)  
no woe to want when I am old.    

The King. Omnes vos defendo. I defend you all.  

The king and ruler of the Realm  
by strength of sword and counsel grau●  
Shrinks not to strive against a stream  
from furious force his seat to save.   

He never quails nor fights in fear  
his hand and heart always agree,  
No force of arms that man can bear.  
can stay what he intends to be.   

The strongest streams of rivers wide  
by Princely power are made to fall,  
They stop not him to go or ride  
for breadth or depth, his foes to gall.   

What castle, tower, or strongest hold  
yields not in view of princely force,  
And stoops with cracks as weak & old  
to give him way to take his course.   

And grant him, though a country small  
of trusty strong and faithful hearts  
He never fears as once to fall,  
though all the world besides take parts   

The earth the substance is of man  
from whence all creatures first were made  
And thence our lively food began.  
now mayntaynd by this golden trade.   

Which once let slack but for a while  
it shortly after will appear.  
Who is most wise will use least wile  
and shall most soon show couldst cheer.   

And therefore thus among the rest  
to speak the truth he may be bold  
That from the worst unto the best  
he feeds all sorts both young and old.   

The Physician.  
Omnes vos edo.  
I eat you all.   

Where liberal Arts do all take root  
from thence Phifitions most do spring●  
A trade which if they win, doth boo●e  
them greatly all, much weath to bring   

He ●vholly lyeves upon his art,  
Wh●●● 〈…〉 all his age  
He hath no 〈…〉 mart  
〈…〉 assuage.   

Which doth all sorts of men so wring  
as few or none can lack him long.  
And where the empty purses cling  
they must abide the painful prong   

For if he should of pity spend  
With all poor pained souls his time,  
He might himself to begging bend,  
which were in him a heinous crime.   

But rich or poor who hath a groat,  
though he perhaps be hunger slain,  
That will not keep it from his throat  
to ease his heavy heart of pain.   

Whereto he oft with grieved mind  
sees men so driven all to spend  
And sparing not to speak his kind  
saith he eats all up at the end.   

The light woman.  
Omnes vos decipio.  
I deceive you all.   

This woman is by nature's shape,  
and form to sight so beautiful  
As happy he whose eyes escape  
most cleanly there to take a pull.   

He never any tenant skeare,  
before the chiefest lord of all,  
Command him as his messenger,  
such tenant to his Lord to call   

And then he comes to him in speed  
with such a doleful deadly sound,  
Which makes the strongest heart to bleed,  
and yield his body to the ground.   

He spare●no king for all his strength,  
nor any man for policy  
Nor Woman for beauty at the length  
but calls in time them all to die.   

Therefore my harvest time saith he,  
doth never cease some where to fall  
But ●ype, or rotten as you be,  
my cyth in fine clear shears down all▪   

Youthful age.  

But youthful age, thus death do blame,  
And shoots this boult with wanton aim,   

That were I Death or Death could be  
and were I then as I am now,  
Fair women sure should seldom die  
until their age did make them bow.   

If Death did manlike deal his dole,  
he could not show that cruelty  
To hail such into ugly hole  
which look on him so piteously.   

But wantoness some perhaps will say  
that women they have hearts most strong  
And oft sing merrily careaway  
soon after many a painful prong,   

Which can not well with reason be,  
since daily sight doth teach us this,  
They never naked weapon see  
but straight they faint worse skeard than hur●   

Her strength of body is most small  
the weakest man that may be found  
If any strength he hath at all,  
soon trips her down, she treads so light   

Therefore me thinks great reason might▪  
persuade this raging Death to spare  
Such weaklinges from that painful plight,  
to choke them with such sower fare.   

Then can by art be well displayed,  
to Death claims near affinity   

Therefore the lover rightly said  
and can by none be well denayed  
That sure it is a deadly pain  
to love and not be loved again.   

And near therewith I make an end  
true love is sure a faithful friend,  
When true love parts it is a death  
though still in breast remains the breath.   

More living deaths I might well name  
which keeps man's life in death like frame  
When clounish clookes of knaves prevail  
●o force the guiltless hearts to quail.   

But the●e a straw till leisure serve,  
such clownlike shape in brass to carve  
And thus to knit the final knot  
death still will be the latter lot,   

The which God grant all men may draw,  
with price of everlasting joy,  
And then their debts be double paid,  
whom now the worldly wrongs annoy.      
FINIS   


Mors tua, mors Christi.  
Fraus mundi gloria coe●i.  
Et dolour inferni,  
Sunt meditanda tibi.   

That Christ did die, that thou must die,  
the worldly fraud, the heavenly joy,  
The endless bitter pains of hell,  
●osse them (as tennis balls) in mind,   

But hereat some perhaps will stick,  
and say, who always thinks of death  
Shall never look with cheerful face,  
but swatte, and wan, and half as dead.   

Whereby appears, whom nature hath  
forbidden beauty's silver show,  
To good more prone and ready be,  
than they whom nature hath decoerd.   

The one I will not maserate  
saith he my plumround phisnomy  
My strait made lim● I will not crook  
to think of death, of devil, or God,   

The other saith my favour is hard,  
my body croukie, of all despised,  
The world I leave it loves not me  
I joy to think on heavenly things.   

The happy blessed man  
doth loath this worldly life.  
The wicked strives in what he can,  
to whet still pleasures knife.   

The wicked wight bewails the sight  
of deadly naked dart:  
To blessed plight it brings delight,  
who gently yields his heart,   

Vita principium mortis,  
Mors ultima linia rerum.   

Life is the first beginning  
of Death, and death the  
last end of all.   

Man peeps no sooner out  
his vital breath to take,  
But death him compass round about  
his subject straight to make   

By speech or pen the busy men  
Who most in words delight.  
Must needs afford the last cold word  
to death which is his right.   
FINIS.   

The Compositor to the Author.  

AS time doth teach and rule the roaming mind,  
So time hath brought thy toiling task to end:  
As time hath licensed us to seek and find,  
So time doth warn us count thee as a friend:  
And sith thou toys thy Golden time to spend  
For Country's sake some profit pure to be,  
Time warns us all due thanks to render thee.   

Who merits fame, renown, or lasting praise  
But only those that toil in countries cause▪  
Who bears the bell in these our dismal days,  
But they which can describe the curious clause?  
Therefore post on my pen and do not pause.  
Till thou hast played with speed a thankful part  
To laud and praise the Authors willing h●rt.   

You musing minds that murmur in delight,  
Come lend your Ears to hear a word or twain,  
Turn back one leaf, cast of all hateful spite,  
To learn this lesson do not now disdain:  
Do you not know what hateful words do gain?  
Be of good cheer O Thimelthorpe I pray,  
Pass not a pin what prating Parrots say.   

Thou sowed hast the seed for us to reap,  
We of thy toil the sugared sweet do taste:  
And sith it comes to all of us so cheap,  
Thereof we will not wanton make waist:  
A friendly look in faith the wise will cast,  
For that is all I know that thou dost crave,  
A thousand thanks therefore be sure to have.   

For Memus mates, or for their fury fell,  
Pass not a whit, esteem them as they are:  
Let them go bathe in Limbo lake of hell:  
Thy fame shall live for ever take no care:  
And if that I could learnedly prepare  
My pen to paint out verses pure and brave,  
Thy name should live when corpse lie cloesd in grave.   

Yet I which have but weak and simple skill,  
Can well discern the good from bad I know,  
The wiser sort when they have viewed their s●ll  
And tossed this Pamphlet over too and fro,  
I ken myself what countenance they w●● show:  
The faults therein they'll not impute to thee,  
But judge the Printers press in part to be,   

To the Reader,  

Good Reader, sith thou hast perusse the same,  
And mayst again at pleasure thine behold  
It faults thou find the Auctor do not blame,  
No furious word against him do unfold,  
But (use thy pen) in mending ought be bold,  
A writer sure as yet he is but young,  
Therefore to laud him exercise thy tongue.   

So wilt thou win the worthy praise of all  
That here among grave writers do remain.  
Of gentle blood account thee sure we shall,  
Fly far from taunts which still thy name doth stain,  
And from the face of false envious train,  
Eke call to mind what Volumes still we see,  
That safe from faults can not excused be.   

The Learned man will see, and little say,  
The witless w●ght his tongue lies never still.  
A good report if wise men show always,  
Let prating peysauntes prattle what they will.  
When they their venom have spewed out their fill,  
The wise will judge what folly merits then  
And who doth purchase praise the best of men.    
Finis, R S.