¶ A Decree between Churchyard and Camel.  

¶ A decree upon the dream made by Davy Dicar,  
With answer to Camel, whose taunts be more quicker.   

Where Dicar hath dreamt of things out of frame,  
And Churchyard by writing affirmeth the same,  
And Camel contendeth, the same to deface,  
And therefore hath put his doings in place.  
Sith both of those twain hath set forth in mitre  
The words of the Author, the skill of the writer  
And run in this race, still chaffing the bit  
I think in this case much more than is fit.  
I minding as much as lieth in me  
To make them both▪ as in one to agree  
Have taken in hand the dream to defend  
And so to recite their race to the end.  
Not so to approve my learning or skill  
But only because it becometh them ill  
From rhyming to railing so oft to dygresse,  
Whereas reason and wit doth will nothing less.  
As Dicar hath dreamt so time out of mind, 
dicar's Dream.   
Some things were amiss, that some men did find,  
If all things were well, as I would God they were,  
We should not be plagued from year unto year,  
If all men do right, what needeth the law,  
What need any justice to hang and to draw,  
If no man be wronged nor widow oppressed,  
Then needeth no care to have it redressed,  
If no man will venture to rob or to steal,  
O England thou hast a good common weal.  
If no man do hurde nor hideth in store,  
Then England shall have no dearth any more  
If no man offend by way of excess.  
Then grace doth abound, the fault is the less,  
If the lusts of the flesh be put out of ure  
The world is amended the people be pure.  
If the poor and the needy be daily relieved,  
What man is so mad, thereat to be grieved?  
If no man do slander nor stir up debate,  
Then Dicar I think hath dreamt to late.  
If no man do flatter, nor fawn for a gain,  
Then may it appear this dream is but vain.  
If all thing be well, and in the right way,  
Why do they not use good laws to obey.  
If no man defraud in buying nor selling  
Then happy is England, for there is best dwelling.  
If faith he unfeigned, and words do once bind,  
The dream is all false, and so ye may find.  
If truth do take place and in all things increase,  
Dream no more Dicar, but let thy dream cease.  
If this be not so then Camel to you,  
I fear me this dream will prove to be true.  
For it is not so geeson with us for to hear,  
But the effect of the dream doth daily appear.  
And every man is now in such taking,  
It passeth, a dream, they find it out waking.  
If you be such a one as never had peer,  
Then are you faulty in none of this gear.  
But seeing your writing doth seem somewhat quick,  
You seem that ye smarted because ye did kick.  
Yet when the dream was to printing directed,  
I think of the dreamer ye were not suspected.  
And where as you contend it doth not belong,  
For Dicar to dream of right or of wrong.  
In deed you do well if you have done amiss,  
To show him his fault and say thus it is.  
And if you so well know what doth Dycar behove,  
Then ought you to show the same to approve.  
But me thinketh you want a friendly good will,  
To deface a good matter though the author were ill.  
And certes of you both indifferently to tell  
I cannot in your railings commend your doings well.  
And both of you twain are yet to me unknown,  
yet can I aid your doings, as if they were mine own.  
ye pass from your purpose in such unworthy sort,  
ye make of your doings a very laughing sport.  
ye close and ye gloze, in seeking to be fine,  
ye taunt and retaunt almost in every line.  
ye affirm ye have red both Terence and Cato,  
ye count ye do but flatter, ye well resemble Gnato.  
And look how much dyffers a Fox from a fool,  
So much do you differ from Cato and his school,  
For Cato doth affirm there is no greater shame,  
Then to reprove a vice, and yourselves to do the same.  
And because I will not seem your fancy to embrace,  
As touching your debate▪ I answer in this case:  
Methinketh in writing ye both have such skill▪  
ye mar a good matter and make it very ill.  
Whereby to say the truth it appeareth well unto me,  
your names and your wits unnumerable be.  
Therefore do not think that ye can be forborn,  
But such as be readers shall laugh you to scorn.  
And when that your doings be thoroughly perused,  
Then by the same deeds ye shallbe accused.  
Cease now in season cast all contempt away,  
Be subject unto reason, and make no more delay.  
And either of you twain do not refuse to know,  
As Cato doth instruct you but straight embrace it so  
which though my skill be small, here thought I to rehearse  
The text and sense with all of every kind of verce   

Contra verbosoes noli contendere verbis,  
Sermo datur cunctis animii sapiencia paucis,  
Cum recte vivas ne curas verba malorum  
Arbitrii nostri non est quid quisque loquatur.   

To strive with men of many words, refrain I the advise  
It is not given to every man that he shallbe godly wise  
If thou live well do not regard what wicked men do say  
For why? it lieth not in us such wicked tongues to stay,  
This is it that ye have read which if you list to know  
He will assuage your sturdi storms which you have raised so  
Take this in worth good Reder now expound it to the best  
For I have said to their device, now hearken to the rest   

¶ The judgement of the Author.  

Some thing is a miss and ever shallbe so,  
Scripture writeth this as learned men do know.  
And some men have the gift thereof to speak and write,  
Which fall yet at a lift to frail and fond delight.  
It doth behove us all so justly as we can,  
To do right well in deed, and eke to write it than  
How be it in him I judge much greater fault there is,  
Which nought can say nor do, but that which is a miss.  
The best may be amended, and that is very true  
The more that have offended, the more we ought to rue.  
If any fall from grace gently him assail,  
Burden him with charity, no rigour can prevail,  
For why, if that the shepherd do wander from the way,  
No marvel if the sheep thereafter go astray  
Some men perhaps there be will take me to the wourst  
I pray you judge of me, as I spoke it at the furst  
For it becometh ill in writing to contend,  
Without wit or skill to make a railing end  
Take me to the best, as one to you unknown  
Whose worthy wits I do commend & would with you be one.  
Not minding so assuredly to spend and waste the day,  
To make the people laugh at me, & here I make a stay,    
Finis  
quod W. Ilderton.   

¶ Imprinted at London by Richard Haruy, dwelling in Fosterlane.