¶ The debate and strife between Summer and winter with the estate present of Man. anthropomorphic representation of the seasons of winter and summer depiction of winter Winter depiction of summer Summer Summer speaketh first EVery thing of my coming is desirous For I cause the true lovers hartis to be amorous All birds by me/ renew their songs glorious In the shadow/ under my bows green & copious winter Friend what be ye/ that maketh so great boast saying that you have all at will on your cost Be you so valiant as ye say/ & of so great bownte That so great joy demeaneth of what country be ye Summer Friend why demand you of my high estate Of god and his mother/ I am very puissant create In so much that all the world doth me great honour I am time of summer to all creatures great pleasure winter Summer thou dost great wrong/ to boast so as I trow If thou canst no answer make/ to that that I would know wherefore should the world/ to the do such honour here From death to life/ canst not thou raise the ded laid on bear Summer Friend & what art thou to whom I should answer Thou art very old as thinketh me go shave thy here I trow thou art very cold for frozen is thy cote As great a fire needful is for the as would make an iron hot winter Summer/ I am named winter that in to many countries Send forth of my goods/ rain frost & snows where so ever that I am/ is found often great cold I make rich men were furred gowns/ & spend some of their gold ¶ Summer winter loved as I am/ canst thou in no wise be Thorough me cometh good wine/ & corn & good fruits great plenty But thorough the all these goodis be wasted & destroyed Thou causest the people/ suffer moche woe/ it can not be denied ¶ Winter Summer if that I were not/ thou shouldest be made full lean By many a best venymus/ of the which I make the clean Of snakes/ adders/ & stinking worms & of mamy a fly From the I make clear deliverance by my great courtesy ¶ Summer Winter this that thou sayest/ is not worth a drop of rain Every thing rejoiceth my coming and thereof is right fain Thou causest all things to be kept in mewe Bestis birdis & flowers/ by the lose all their joy and hew ¶ Winter Summer thou art not beloved but of the poor and needy That with great pain get their living/ and thereto be not speedy They have no will to labour/ in field nor in garrison But only to spoyll of their clothes/ & louse them at thy son ¶ Summer Winter all thy saying/ is not worth a here of will I have the sweet nightingale/ that singeth with notes full praying every lover/ that he to love do his pain Who can then hold himself fro love/ neither free nor villain ¶ Winter Summer these pleasures thou speakest of/ be not profitable I love better the good wines/ & good sweet meats upon my table That is to me more pleasant/ agreeable & more joyous delight Than songs of birds/ & these lovers joy that often be light Summer winter I have young damsels that have their breasts white That go to gather the fair flowers with their lovers bright The which sweetly kyseth them laughing merely And than go they thence glad & gay singing joyfully winter I have more of my ease than thou hast of delights I have my chambers made pleasant and painted for all sights There is no people in the world great nor small beasts and birds without number but be painted on the wall Summer Wyntyr all thy desire is the belly to fill Bet were to be in a green herbre where one may have his will His true love to embrace & to kiss sweet Than to be at the fire in chafing of his feet Winter Summer in this good time I have great assembles I have burgesses & merchants with well furred robes Futred hose & good mantles & good chains of gold For me they make a great fire to cheer my bones old Summer Winter thou sayest true of god by thou accursed Thou sellyst in to exile my goods & moan ymburssed All that thou lyvyst by? cometh fro me wherefore I am sorry And of thine have I nothing it maketh my heart heavy Wyntyr Summer thou understandest not my deed & my reason Thou hast good pottage made with flesh of my season As the hogs that I slay that maketh the good bacon The good brawn of my time is eaten afore thy venison Summer Winter god send the an evil destiny For all that cometh in thy time is not worth a penny no more than a man schooled sail over the salt flood And ware should bring over with him neither wholesome nor good Winter Summer men make great joy what time I come in For companies gadareth together on the eve of saint martin Theridamas is neither great not small but than they will drink wine If they should lay their cote to gauge to drink it or it fine Summer winter in the month of may when thou lurkyst in bower I have prymeroses & dayses & the wyolet slowre The which be for the true lover and his sweet leman That go home singing & make good cheer as merely as they can Winter Summer intend what I say it is of verity The highest day in the year is the nativity Than be capons on the table bred win & clare Many a boat is slain against that time much joy is made & gle Summer Winter in this time he that hath nought himself for to clouth When it raineth & bloweth cold freezeth & sore snouth All the poor commons they live in great displeser The poor membres of god that have so great pain to suffer Winter Summer thou sayest troth a bide we the adventure praying that king/ son of the virgin pure That he will give us such heat after this great cold That the poor comonalte may live in ease ever him to behold ¶ Summer Winter by one assent/ our great strife let us cease And together agree we/ and make a final peace God that create this world/ & made both the & me Let us pray to him to send us a good end/ Amen for charity ¶ The time present of man ¶ The more health he hath/ the more he complaineth The more hardy he is/ the more he feigneth The more he loveth/ the more he paineth The more he is believed/ the more he lieth The more he hath wherewith/ the less he contenteth The more he is reproved/ the more he murmureth The more high of price/ the less time abideth The more money he hath/ the less him sufyseth The more understoning/ the less he well showeth The more he hath done amiss/ the less he feryth The more he continueth the worse he liveth What shall god say to him that this doth ¶ In a prince loyalete In a clerk humility In a prelate sapience In an advocate eloquence In 〈◊〉 cloth good colour In wine good savour In a elephant to keep his faith In a subject when he obeith In a woman good countenans This is a very good ordynans ¶ Largesse of the french men loyalty of the scotish men Clenlynes of the alman Swearing of the norman Cursing of the pickarde hardiness of the lombarde sapience of the brytton Consyens of the burgonion great boast of the beggar All is not worth a point of leather ¶ To tyse betimes/ himself to recreate To look well to his own/ & to keep a sober estate Long or he eat/ & not to soup late To lay high with his heed/ & to sleep moderate Maketh man rich/ long life & fortunate. Finis Cum privilegio. ¶ Imprinted by me laurens andrew ¶ These books be for to sell at the sign of saint Iohn evangelist/ in saint martin's parish beside Charing cross. printer's device of Lawrence Andrewe (1527-30) on a shield within a frame