❧ western Will, upon the debate betwixt churchyard and Camel.    


¶ row thy boat thou jolly jolly mariner, & wind well up thy sail,  
For thou mightst never wind it up better thine own self for to avail.   

THere ware three merry mariners, that dwelled in Maldon mead  
That could sail of wind and tide, of channel and of stream  
And eke their compass well direct, from every shore & stead  
And ware acquainted with the rocks: and sands that might them queam  
From Maldon haven to Billingesgate, aswell I undertake  
As any three of many years, such course that used to make.   

A Crayer had they priest to sail, and all their takle yare  
And all their fraught ybrought a board, to wend to Maldon town  
But for the wind was not the best, before they forth would far  
They thought the city for to room, and view it up and down  
If thing uncouth they there might find, wherewith to move some glee  
When they came home to Maldon mead, among their company.   

To Paul's they hied as place most fit, for news in their device  
Among the printers 'gan they search, and busily inquire  
For things that might for Novelty, at home be had in price  
The printer said he thought he had, to pleasen their desire  
And drew them near into his shop, and 'gan unfold them light  
A roll of Rhythms, whereof the first, the dickers dream it height.   

Then followed answer to this dream, to Davie dickers when  
A solemn process at a blush, be quoted here and there  
With matter in the margin set, whereon to gaze they 'gan  
But they ne wist for aught I knew, but Hebrew that it were  
A Replication was the next, which well I understood  
For that I found no word therein, but it was english good.   

But lo ye here the fourth quoth he, that maketh up the most  
I warrant you a clerkly piece, see how it is be decked  
(As sellers are not now to learn, their wares to praise I guess)  
The name thereof Rejoinder was, a term to them suspect  
Because it sounded of the law, as though some case it war.  
Of jointure right for wayward wives, to pleaden at the bar.   

But ay the printer pressed on, and take them all quoth he  
I not your names, but brethren mine. I you assure can  
They be as good as in this town in any shop there be  
Our names quoth be, and one stepped forth, a wight young water man  
Wylkyn is my name, and this is watte, and Herman hight the third  
As trusty and sure at tackle knot, as ever with cord was gird.   

Well Wilkin, Watte, and Herman gent, by all your names I swear  
Ye shall not need upon my word, to stand in any doubt  
A merrier jest ye can not find, a board with you to bear  
So will ye say yourselves I know, when ye have red it out  
But if ye be unlearned to read, as mariners lightly be  
Then if ye list to hark a while, ye shall it hear of me.   

For God's sweet bones quoth Watkyn tho, for bokyshe be we not  
We know to half, and strike, & vyere, & up the anchor way  
And cables fold, and climb to top, and then go toss the pot  
But if thou wilt of courtesy, of this us somewhat say  
By god my penny shallbe twain, and theirs shall make a groat  
Though we therefore should go to bed, at night with thirsty throat.   

Nay then quoth he Saint George to borrow, the day is ours all  
Ye shall it hear each line at length, but first and wot ye what  
The parties twain between the which, this strife is now befall  
It me behoveth first to tell, good order asketh that  
Wherefore a while give ear I pray, till I those twain set out  
And then ye may your fancy say, by turn each one about.   

This Diker seems a thriving lad, brought up in Pierces school  
The ploughman stout, of whom I think ye have full often hard  
A swyncking swain, that handleth well his spade and other tool  
Full loath he ware for lack of heed, they should be reckly marred  
For why in them and in his hand, his living chiefly stands  
He brags not of his rents ne fees, ne of entailed lands.   

And yet he seemeth a curtouse hind, and comen of good stock  
For Dikers few in my country, so well y thewed been  
I warrant you who list him prove, he is no spriteless block  
But to my tale, In cockowe time when each thing 'gan to gren  
All wearied from his work, returns this Davi Diker hende  
And for to ease himself the bet, full softly 'gan he wend   

Unto his house within a grove, a little there beside  
His bottle & his bag, he hent, he left them not behind  
Wherein remained but small surplus, of viand at that tide  
And down he sat him on the bench, of meat had little mnide  
But 'gan complain his weariness, and on his hand his head  
He did arrest, & cleped wife, as though he would to bed   

Lo dame he said thou wottest I trow, that candle is to dear  
To sit up late and praten out our thrift till farther night  
And eke I nill no supper have, let be put out the fiere  
And haste we all to bed I say, that rise betimes we might  
And in he stepped, and soon he was uncased in his couch  
And at his head as was his wont, he laid up his pouch.   

To weary labouring men, full sweet doth seem such rest  
He had not lain long, but loud he 'gan to rout  
And softly by his side his wife, herself to bed addressed  
The dog, the cat, and syb the maid, each couchen them about  
Into their hernes where they ware wont, and all was huyst and still  
And Davy 'gan to dream his dream, as we devysen will   

Then Wylkyn 'gan at once upbraid, and swore by gods dine heart  
A rush for books, me liefer ware that I could tell this tale  
Then of your scrabblynges for to have, a load by wain or cart  
Straw for such peltry, it is good to stuff an empty male  
I durst it take upon my soul, in all this lither thing  
Is not a tale that may be found so much to my liking.   

Yea yea quod Wat, myself by gisse, in youth might this have learned  
If I so wise or happy had been to follow my father's will  
Who would have spent upon my school so much as he had earned  
But I was bend another way, me thought it very ill  
All day to rucken on my tail, and porens on a book  
It was nothing unto my pay, full soon I it forsook.   

But Herman here our other mate, it was a witty elf  
Ado, ado, quod herman then and printer yet go forth  
What was the dream that Davy met as he it told himself  
For yet me thinketh by thy fare, that dream is somewhat worth.  
Content quoth he give hear again, and here me what I say  
I shall you read this dream a right, as here I find it plain.   

davy Dikers dream.  

WHen faith in friends bears fruit, and foolyssh fancies fade  
& crafty catchers come to nought & hate great love hath made  
When fraud flieth far from town: & loiterers leave the field  
And rude shall run a rightful race, and all men be well wild  
When gropers after gain, shall carp for common wealth  
And wily workers shall disdain to fig and live by stealth  
When wisdom walks a loft, and folly sits full low  
And virtue vainquisheth pampered vice & grace begins to grow:  
When justice joins to truth, and law looks not to miede  
And bribes help not to build fair bowers, nor gifts great glotons feed  
When hunger hides his head & pleinty pleaseth the poor  
And nyggardes to the needy men shall never shut the door  
When double dark deceit, is out of credit worn  
And fawning speech is falsehood found & craft is laughed to scorn  
When pride that pikes the purse, gapes not for garments gay  
Nor javelles wear no velvet weeds nor wandering wits bear sway  
When riches wrongs not right, ne power puts poor aback  
Nor covetous criepes not into court nor learned livings lack  
When slipper sleights are seen and far fatches be found  
And private profit and self love shall both be put in pound  
When debt no sergaunt dreads and courtiers credit keep  
And might melles not with merchandise, nor lords shall sell no sheep  
When lucre lasts not long, and hurde great heaps doth hate  
And every wight is well content, to walk in his estate  
When truth doth tread the streets, and liars lurk in den  
And Rex doth reign and rule the roast, and weeds out wicked men  
Then baleful barns be blithe, that here in England won  
Your strife shall stint I undertake, and dreadful days be done.   

This Dyker was no fool I guess, quod Watte and Herman though  
It seemeth well he him bethought, upon the worlds change  
And of his drudge and mickle pain, when he to bed did go  
And then to dream of such like things, pardie it is not strange  
Such as my talk and thoughts have been, the day before certain  
Such things again at night in sleep, my dream hath showed me plain.   

And eke I harden ones, a right good doctor tell.  
That such as farced go to bed, with meat and drink good store  
Their dreams alway to them in more dysordre fell  
Then if they empty went to bed, as ye have hard before  
That Davie did whose supper was, so slender and so short  
That nothing else but weariness, and nature caused him snort.   

A dream, a straw quod Wylkin then, by god it nas no swevyn  
Men dream of devils, of apes, and ●wles, of naked girls and boys  
But I ne think this dream is such, it hitteth things so even  
It talketh with good reason round, of fancies ne of joys  
But of such things as I can not, amenden with my wit  
Nor never shall I think be found, reformed every whit.   

No quoth the printed no, that meant not the dream I undertake  
But where as many things been found, that man's wit can not fetch  
To mend as many as we can, and the rest a pattern make  
To bring our state as nigh to them, as man's device can match  
As out of Plat●es comen wealth, a tale I could you tell  
Of many things that he would have, and not but very well:   

That never yet in earth ware found, as he would have them done  
Quod Watte no more of Plato's lore, I ken him not by gysse  
Ne care not much except he could some rules for change of mean  
But well I wots algates and am full sure of this  
That I have hard the preachers speak, of asmuch as is here  
And of more things than any man, is able to come near.   

But ay me thinks it is to fine, for such a rude upland  
It ware enough for a right good clerk, at instyvynsty taught  
He had to help his parish priest, I venture durst my hand  
What though he could it dream thus right, yet I believe it nought  
That he could with such quaint proverbs, his dream at large indite  
And eke I think the silly swain, did never learn to write   

No Watte quod the printer tho, thou harpest on the truth  
This Diker had a friend in court that well could handle pen  
With whom he was acquainted erst, as play fellows in youth  
Who for they then companions ware did him vouchsafe to ken  
And loved Davy evermore, in him such truth there was  
And Davy when he came to town, unseen would not him pass.   

Befell upon a market day, when he this dream had had  
That he to London list resort, for things that stood him need  
He found his friend, and all this dream, at length ●●to him read  
And he for that it seemed a thing, the penning worth in died  
'Gan draw it into frame, and shapen as ye hard  
And one that lust it fantasien, to printing it preferred.   

Lo now I have the half performed, that I you erst behight  
What manner man this Diker was, and how this dream came out  
And now I will to Camel pass, if ye therein delight  
By whom this jolly stir, is chief brought about  
And tell fro point to point, as erst I did of this  
His worthiness as I it know, and as the saying is.   

The Camel seems to me to be, a great outlandish beast  
Quod Herman to the printer then, that long his peace had hold  
With bunches twain upon his back, as high as any horse at least.  
Of which I do remenbre is, in the new Testament told  
That every rich gnof, may up to heaven as easily sty  
As may this wild unruly beast, pass through a nydles eye.   

And eke we none in England have except they been us brought  
Of late that I ne know, out of some far country  
And by my troth if I shall say you plainly to my thought  
Though none we had, it skills not much, if they so unruly be  
But printer trust thou me, I nylle it not believe  
A beast to speak and written this, my reason doth not give.   

The printer loud he loughe, and so did all the shop  
And said that Herman spoken had, as much as might he said  
But aware the Camel here quoth he, he would be in thy top  
No force quoth he▪ of beasts I am nothing afraid  
Though I do seld on horseback come, there can no Camel kind  
Till I know more, let me to say, though fancies of my mind.   

Marry know thou then quoth he, that Camel is a man  
Nay printer soft quod Wylkin thee, and suffer me to speak  
What cause had he that moved him, to answer to this when  
Or why should he of other all, so sumysshlye out break  
To dart at davy Dikers dream that meant him none unrest  
Except he ware one of those sorts, that it would have redressed.   

Pardien a dream is but a dream, a fancy of the head  
And he ne meant I hope that men, should it for gospel take  
But as a swevyn or fantasy, that each one should it read  
For thy me thinks accordingly, the name did davy make  
And now a man (ye say he is) against a dream to spurn  
Me think it either smells of craft, or else of some heart burn.   

What soft mate quoth the printer tho, and he began to lower  
You gynue wax hot I ween, against the summer son  
Ye may be cooled ere ye come home, with some fresh Apryl shower  
This is to much before that I my tale have all ydonne  
Here first an end of all, and then prononcen doom  
Or else depart ye calmly hence, even such way as ye come.   

Herman was full woe, when he, the printer saw thus wroth  
And had but little lust to tarry out the tale  
And to his fellows 'gan upbraid, ye see the day hence goeth  
And eke ye know aswell as I, the water gins to vale  
And by the vanes I spy the wind, to be by south at west.  
That we us haste to Maldon mead, I think it be the best   

And therefore now give us quoth he, and take thou here thy groat  
And though that Wylkin and this Wat, have showed their hasty wit  
(We Mariners be salt yfrette, we can no bet god wot)  
I pray the printer be content and take no grief at it  
We have at home a mariner that can some skill of book  
He shall them see and read them us, and so their leave they ioke.   

And I that present was at all, for that I liked the sport  
'Gan print it in my fickle head, in order as I told  
And for to pen it out the bet did to my cell resort  
And drew it there into a some, as I had hard it told  
Not with such words as they it spoke, but in such words as I  
Had partly learned of my dame, and list to fantasy.   

Such hap may hap, to give a second fit  
If cause shall hap, and leisure serve for it.     

❧ Imprinted at London in Fleetstreet at the sign of the George next to saint Dunston's Church by William powel.