THe frutefull sentẽce & the noble werkes
To our doctryne wrytẽ ĩ olde ãtyquyte
By many gret & ryght notable clerkes
Groũded on reason and hygh auctoryte
Dyde gyue vs example by good moralyte
To folowe the trace of trouth and ryght wysnes
Leuynge our synne and mortall wrechednes
By theyr wrytynge doth to vs appere
The famous actes of many a champyon
In the courte of fame renowned fayre and clere
And some endyted theyr entencyon
Cloked in coloure harde in construccyon
Specyally poetes vnder cloudy fygures
Couered the trouthe of all theyr scryptures
So hystoryagraphes all the worthy dedes
Of kynges and knyghtes dyde put in wrytynge
To be in mende for theyr memoryall medes
How sholde we now haue knowledgynge
Of thynges past / but by theyr endytynge
Wherfore we ought to prayse them doubteles
That spent theyr tyme in suche good busynes.
Amonge all other my good mayster Lydgate
The eloquent poete and monke of bury
Dyde bothe contryue and also translate
Many vertues bokes to be in memory
Touchynge the trouthe well and sentencyously
But syth that his deth was intollerable
I praye god rewarde hym in lyfe perdurable
[A.ii.]Amonge all thynges nothynge so prouffytable
As is scyence with the sentencyous scrypture
For worldly rychesse is often transmutable
As dayly dothe appere well in vre
Þet scyens a bydeth and is moost sure
After pouerte to attayne grete rychesse
Scyens is cause of promocion doubtles
I lytell or nought expert in poetrye
Remembrynge my youth so lyght and frayle
Purpose to compyle here full breuyatly
A lytell treatyse wofull to bewayle
The cruell swerers which do god assayle
On euery syde his swete body to tere
With terryble othes as often as they swere
But all for drede plonged in neclygence
My penne dothe quake to presume to endyte
But hope at laste to recure this scyence
Exorteth me ryght hardely to wryte
To deuoyde ydlenesse by good appetyte
For ydlenesse the grete moder of synne
Euery vyce is redy to lette ynne
I with the same ryght gretely infecte
Lykely to deye tyll grace by medecyne
Recured my sekenes my payne to abiecte
Commaundynge me by her hye power deuyne
To drawe this treatyse for to enlumyne
The reders therof by penytencyall pyte
And to pardon me of theyr benygnyte
RYght myghty prỹces of euery crysten regyõ
I sende you gretynge moche hertly & grace
Right wel to gouern vpright your dominiõ
And all your lordes I greete in lyke cace
By this my lettre your hertes to enbrace
Besechynge you to prynte it in your mynde
How for your sake I toke on me mankynde
And as a lambe moost mekely dyde enclyne
To suffre the dethe for your redempcyon
And ye my kynges whiche do nowe domyne
Ouer my comons in terrestryall mancyon
By pryncely preemynence and Iuredyccyon
In your regall courtes do suffre me be rente
And my tender body with blode all besprente
Without my grace ye maye nothynge preuayle
Though ye be kynges for to mayntene your see
To be a kynge it may nothynge auayle
Buy yf my grace preserue his dygnyte
Beholde your seruauntes how they do tere me
By cruell othes now vpon euery syde
Aboute the worlde launcynge my woundes wyde
All the graces whiche I haue you shewed
Reuoule in mynde ryght ofte ententyfly
Beholde my body with blody droppes endewed
Within your realmes nowe torne so pyteously
Towsed and tugged with othes cruelly
Some my heed some myn armes and face
Some my herte do all to rente and race
A.iii.They newe agayne do hange me on the rode
They tere my sydes and are nothynge dysmayde
My woundes they open and deuoure my blode
I god and man moost wofully arayde
To you complayne it maye not be denayde
Ye nowe do tug me / ye tere me at the roote
Yet I to you am chefe refuyte and boote
Wherfore ye kynges reygnynge in renowne
Refourme your seruauntes in your courte abused
To good example of euery maner towne
So that theyr othes whiche they longe haue vsed
On payne and punysshement be holly refused
Meke as a Lambe I suffre theyr grete wronge
I maye take vengeaunce thoughe I tary longe
I do forbere I wolde haue you amende
And graunte you mercy and ye wyll it take
O my swete brederne why do ye offende
Agayne to tere me whiche deyed for your sake
Lo se my kyndenes and frome synne awake
I dyde redeme you from the deuylles chayne
And spyte of me ye wyll to hym agayne
Made I not heuen the moost gloryous mansyon
In whiche I wolde be gladde to haue you in
Now come swete bretherne to myn habytacyon
Alas good brederne with your mortall synne
Why flee ye from me / to torne agayne begynne
I wrought you I bought you ye can it not denye
Yet to the deuyll ye go nowe wyllyngly
||
See Me Be |
(kynde |
Agayne My payne Reteyne |
(in mynde |
My swete bloode On the roode Dyde the good |
(my broder |
My face ryght red Myn armes spred My woundes bled |
(thynke none oder |
Beholde thou my syde Wounded so ryght wyde Bledynge sore that tyde |
(all for thyn owne sake |
Thus for the I smerted Why arte þou harde herted Be by me conuerted |
(& thy swerynge aslake |
Tere me nowe no more My woundes are sore Leue swerynge therfore |
(and come to my grace |
I am redy To graunte mercy To the truely |
(for thy trespace |
Come nowe nere My frende dere And appere |
(before me |
I so In wo Dyde go |
(se se |
I [A.iiii.] Crye Hy |
(the |
Vnto me dere broder my loue and my herte
Turmente me no more with thyn othes grete
Come vnto my Ioye and agayne reuerte
From the deuylles snare and his sutyl net
Beware of the worlde all aboute the set
Thy flesshe is redy by concupyscence
To burne thy herte with cursed vyolence
Thoughe these thre enmyes do sore the assayle
Vpon euery syde with daungerous iniquite
But yf thou lyst / they may nothynge preuayle
Nor yet subdue the with all theyr extremyte
To do good or yll / all is at thy lyberte
I do graunte the grace thyn enemyes to subdue
Swete broder accepte it theyr power to extue
And ye kynges and prynces of hye noblenes
With dukes and lordes of euery dygnyte
Indued with manhode wysdome and ryches
Ouer the comons hauynge the soueraynte
Correcte them whiche so do tere me
By cruell othes without repentaunce
Amende be tyme lest I take vengeaunce
Exodi vicesimo / non accipies nomen dei tui in vãnum
Vnto the man I gaue commaundement
Not to take the name of thy god vaynfully
As not to swere but at tyme conuenyent
Before a Iuge to bere recorde truely
Namynge my name with reuerence mekely
Vnto the Iuge than there in presence
By my name to gyue to the good credence
A my brederne yf that I be wrothe
It is for cause ye falsly by me swere
Ye knowe yourselfe that I am very trothe
Þet wrongfully ye do me rente and tere
ye neyther loue me nor my Iustyce fere
And yf ye dyde ye wolde full gentylly
Obeye my byddynge well and perfytely
The worldly kynges hauynge the soueraynte
ye do well obey without resystence
ye dare not take theyr names in vanyte
But with grete honoure and eke reuerence
Than my name more hye of magnyfycence
ye ought more to drede whiche am kynge of all
Bothe god and man and reygne celestyall
No erthely man loueth you so well
As I do / which mekely dyde enclyne
For to redeme you from the fendes of hell
Takynge your kynde by my godhede dyuyne
you were the fendes I dyde make you myne
For you swete bretherne I was on the rode
Gyuynge my body my herte and my blode
[A.v.]Than why do ye in euery maner of place
With cruell othes tere my body and herte
My sydes and woundes it is a pyteous cace
Alas swete brederne I wolde you conuerte
For to take vengeaunce ye do me coherte
From the hous of swerers shall not be absent
The plage of Iustyce to take punysshement
¶Vnde. Ecclesiastici .xxxiii. Vir multum iurans implebitur iniquitate et non discedet a domo eius plaga.
A man moche swerynge with grete iniquite
Shall be replete and from his mancyon
The plage of vengeaunce shall not cessed be
Wherefore ye brederne full of abusyon
Take ye good hede to this dyscrypcyon
Come nowe to me and axe forgyuenes
And be penytente and haue it douteles
Augustinus. Non potest male mori qui bene vixit et vix bene moritur quimale vixit.
Who in this worlde lyueth well and ryghtwysly
Sall deye well by ryght good knowlegynge
Who in this worlde lyueth yll and wrongfully
Shall hardly scape to haue good endynge
I do graunte mercy but no tyme enlongynge
Wherfore good brederne whyles that ye haue space
Amend your lyfe and come vnto my grace
||My wordes my prelates vnto you do preche
For to conuerte you from your wretchednes
But lytell auaylleth you nowe for to teche
The worlde hathe cast you in such blyndnes
Lyke vnto stones your hertes hathe hardnes
That my swete wordes may not reconsyle
Your hertes harde with mortall synne so vyle
Wo worthe your hertes so planted in pryde
Wo worthe your wrath and mortall enuye
Wo worthe slouth that dothe with you abyde
Wo worthe also inmesurable glotony
Wo worthe your tedyus synne of lechery
Wo worthe you whome I gaue free wyll
Wo worthe couetyse that dothe your soulse spyll
Wo worthe shorte Ioye cause of payne eternall
Wo worthe you that be so peruerted
Wo worthe your pleasures in the synnes mortall
Wo worthe you for whome I sore smerted
Wo worthe you euer but ye be conuerted
Wo worthe you whose makynge I repente
Wo worthe your horryble synne so vyolent
Wo worthe you whiche do me forsake
Wo worthe you whiche wyllyngely offende
Wo worthe your swerynge whiche dothe not aslake
Wo worthe you whiche wyll nothynge amende
Wo worthe vyce that dothe on you attende
Wo worthe your grete vnkyndenes to me
[A.vi.]Wo worthe your hertes withouten pyte
Wo worthe your falshode and your doublenesse
Wo worthe also your corrupte Iugement
Wo worthe delyte in worldely rychesse
Wo worthe bebate without extynguyshment
Wo worthe your wordes so moche impacyent
Wo worthe you vnto whome I dyde bote
And wo worthe you that tere me at the rote
Blessyd be ye that loue humylyte
Blessyd be ye that loue trouthe and pacyence
Blessyd be ye folowynge werkes of equyte
Blessyd be ye that loue well abstynence
Blessyd be ye vyrgyns of excellence
Blessyd be ye which loue well vertue
Blessyd be ye whiche do the worlde eschue
Blessyd be ye that heuenly Ioye do loue
Blessyd be ye in vertuous gouernaunce
Blessyd be ye whiche do pleasures reproue
Blessyd be ye that consyder my greuaunce
Blessyd be ye whiche do take repentaunce
Blessyd be ye remembrynge my passyon
Blessyd be ye makynge petycyon
Blessyd be ye folowynge my trace
Blessyd be ye louynge trybulacyon
Blessyd be ye not wyllynge to trespace
Blessyd be ye of my castycacyon
Blessyd be ye of good operacyon
||Blessyd be ye vnto me ryght kynde
Blessyd be you whiche haue me in your mynde
Blessyd be ye leuynge yll company
Blessyd be ye hauntynge the vertuous
Blessyd be ye that my name magnefy
Blessyd be ye techynge the vycyous
Blessyd be ye good and relygyous
Blessyd be ye in the lyfe temperall
Whiche applye yourselfe to Ioye celestyall
The brytyll worlde ryght often transmutable
Who wyll in it his lyfe in tyme well spende
Shall Ioye attayne after inestymable
For in the worlde he must fyrst condyscende.
To take grete payne as his power wyll extende
Agaynst the worlde the flesshe and the deuyll
By my grete grace for to withstande theyr euyll
For who can be a gretter fole than he
That spendeth his tyme to hym vncertayne
For a breuyat pleasure of worldly vanyte
Than after that to haue eternall payne
Who of the worlde delyteth and is fayne
Shall after sorowe and cry ve ve
In an other worlde quante sunt tenebre
Who is wyser than he that wyll applye
In the worlde to take payne by due dylygence
After shorte payne to come to grete glorye
Whiche is eterne moost hye of excellence
Where he shall se my grete magnyfycence
[A.vii.]With many aungelles whiche for theyr solace
Insacyately do beholde my face
Regarde no Ioye of the erthly consystory
For lyke as Phebus dothe the snowe relente
So passeth the Ioyes of the worlde transytory
Tyme renneth fast tyll worldly lyfe be spente
Consyder this in your entendemente
Blessed be they that my worde do here
And kepe it well, for they are to me dere
Therfore good brederne your hertes enclyne
To loue and drede me that am omnipotent
Bothe god and man in Ioye celestyne
Beholde my body all to torne and rente
With your spytefull othes cruell and vyolent
I loue you ye hate me ye are to harde herted
I helpe you ye tere me lo how for you I smerted
Mercy and peace dyde make an vnyte
Bytwene you and me but trouthe & ryghtwysnesse
Do nowe complayne byddynge my godheed se
How that ye breke the lege of sothfastnesse
They tell me that by Iustyce doubtelesse
I must take vengeaunce vpon you sykerly
That by your swerynge, agayne me crucefye
For at the request of good mercy and peace
I haue forborne you longe and many a daye
Þet more and more your synnes do encrease
Wherfore my Iustyce wyll no more delaye
||But take vengeaunce for all your proude araye
I warne you ofte ye are nothynge the better
But ye amende my vengenaunce shall be gretter
¶ Contra iuratores christi in celo crucifigentes. per bernardũ dicit dominus. Nonne satis pro te vulneratus sum? nonne satis pro te afflictus sum? desine amplius peccare. quia magis aggrauat vulnus peccati quam vulnus lateris mei.
Am not I wounded for the suffycyent
Haue I not for the ynoughe afflyccyon
Leue more to synne by good amendement
The wounde of synne to me is more passyon
Than the wounde of my syde for thy redempcyon
Thoughe I do spare I shall you desteny
But ye amende to brenne eternally
With my blody woundes I dyde your chartre seale
Why do you tere it / why do ye breke it so
Syth it to you is the eternall heale
And the releace of euerlastynge wo
Beholde this lettre with the prynte also
Of myn owne seale by perfyte portrature
Prynte it in mynde and ye shall helthe recure
And ye kynges and lordes of renowne
Exorte your seruauntes theyr swerynge to cease
Come vnto me and cast your synne adowne
And I my vengeaunce shall truely releace
With grace and plente / I shall you encrace
[A.viii.]And brynge you whiche reuolue inwardly
This is my complaynte to eternall glory.
AMEN.
¶The Auctour as foloweth.
¶Go lytell treatyse deuoyde of eloquence
Tremblynge for dreade to approche the maieste
Of our souereynge lord surmountynge in excellence
Put under the wynge of his benygnyte
Submyttynge the to his mercyfull pytie.
And beseche hys grace to pardon thy rudnesse
Whych of late was made to eschewe ydlenesse.
¶Thus endeth the conuersyon of swerers, made and compyled by Stephen Hawys, groome of the chambre of our souerigne lorde Kyng Henry the seuenth. Enprynted at London, in Fletestrete, at the sygne of the Sonne, by Wynken de Worde, Prynter vnto the moost excellent prynses, my lady the kynges graundame, the yere of our Lord a MCCCCCIX. the first yere of the reigne of our souerayne lord kyng Henry the VIII.