The fyfte eglog of Alexandre Barclay of the cytezen and vplondyshman. Here after foloweth the prologe. Eclogue. 5 Barclay, Alexander, 1475?-1552. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A03728 of text S104478 in the English Short Title Catalog (STC 1385). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 57 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 19 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2018 A03728 STC 1385 ESTC S104478 99840216 99840216 4692 2240887212

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Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A03728) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 4692) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 24:05) The fyfte eglog of Alexandre Barclay of the cytezen and vplondyshman. Here after foloweth the prologe. Eclogue. 5 Barclay, Alexander, 1475?-1552. Baptista, Mantuanus, 1448-1516. Bucolica. 6. [36] p. : ill. (woodcuts), port. In flete strete, at the sygne of sonne, by Wynkyn de Worde, [Inprynted at London : [1518?]] Based on: Baptista Mantuanus. Bucolica. 6. Printer's name and address from colophon; publication date conjectured by STC. Signatures: a b⁴ c⁶. Reproduction of the original in the British Library. eng eebo The fyfte eglog of Alexandre Barclay of the cytezen and vplondyshman. Here after foloweth the prologe. Barclay, Alexander, 1518 37 9551 29 0 0 0 0 0 30.36 C The rate of 30.36 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the C category of texts with between 10 and 35 defects per 10,000 words. 2005-03 Assigned for keying and markup 2005-04 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2005-05 Sampled and proofread 2005-05 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2005-10 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion

The fyfte Eglog of Alexandre Barclay of the Cytezen and vplondyshman .

Here after foloweth the Prologe .

IN colde Ianuary / whan fyre is comfortable And that the feldes / be nere intollerable Whan shepe & pastoures / leueth felde & folde And drawe to cotes / for to eschewe the colde What tyme the verdure / of grounde & euery tre By fyrst and stormes / is pryuate of beaute And euery small byrde / thynketh the wynter longe Which well apereth / by ceasynge of theyr songe At this same season / two herdes / fresshe of age At tyme apoynted / met bothe in one cotage The fyrste hyght Faustus / the seconde Amyntas Harde was to knowe / whiche better husbande was For eche of them bothe / set more by pleasour Than by habundaunce / of ryches or tresour Imyntas was tormalle / and propre in his gere A man on his cloke / shoulde not aspyed a here Nor of his clothynge / one wryncle stode a wrye In london he lerned / to go so manerly Hygh on his bonet / stacke a fayre broche of tynne His pursys lynynge / was symple poore and thynne But a lordes stomake / and a beggers pouche Full yll accordeth / suche was this comely slouche In the towne and cyte / so longe getted had he That frome thens he fledde / for det and pouerte No wafrer / tauerne / halehous / or tauerner ●o hym was there hydde / whyle he was hosteler ●te was he hosteler / and than a wafrer Than a coster monger / and last a tauerner Aboute all London / there was no propre prym But longe tyme had ben / famylyer with hym But whan coyne●ayled no fanour more hadde he ●●●erfore he roas gladde / out of the towne to fle But shepeherde Faustus / was yet more fortunate For alwaye was he / content with his estate Yet nothynge he hadde / to conforte hym in age Saue Turrian melche cowe / and a poore cotage The towne he vsed / and grete pleasure hadde To se the cyte / oftyme whyle he was ladde For mylke and botter / he thyther brought to sell But neuer thought he / in cyte for to dwell For well he noted / the madde enormyte Enuy / fraude / malyce / and suche inyquyte Whiche reygne in cytes / therfore he ledde his lyfe Vp londe in vyllage / without debate and stryfe Whan these two herdes / were thus together met Hauynge no charges / nor labour them to let Thryr shepe were all sure / and closyd in a cote Themselfe laye in lyttre / pleasauntly and hote For costly was fyre / in hardest of the yere Iohan men haue most nede / than euery thynge is dere For passynge of tyme / and recreacyon The bothe delyted / in communycacyon Famely they pledyd / of the dyuersyte Ofrurall husbondes / and men of the cyte Fa●tus accused / and blamed Cytezyns To them imputynge / grete fautes cryme & synnes Amyntas blamed / the rurall men agayne And eche of them bothe / his quareyl dyde maynteyne All worthe dyspysed / all malyce and yll wyll Clene layde a parte / eche dyde reherse his skyll But fsyrste Amyntas / thus for to speke began As he whiche counted / hymselfe the better man Finis Prologe .

Interlocutoures be Amyntas and Faustus .

Amyntas fyrste speketh . THe wynter snowes / all couered is the grounde The northe wynde blowys / all with a fereful sounde The longe yse sycles / at the hewsys honge The streames frosen / the myght is colde and longe Where botes rowed / now cartes haue passage Frome yoke the oxen / be lowsed and bondage The ploweman resteth / auoyde of all busynesse Saue whan he tendeth / his harmes for to dresse Mably his wyfe / sytteth byfore the fyre All blacke and smoke / clothed in rude atyre Sethynge some grewell / and sterynge the pulment Of peese or frument / a noble meete for lent The somer season / men counteth now laudable Whose feruour before / they thought intollerable The frosty wynter / and weder temperate Which men than praysed / they now dyspryse & hate Colde they desyred / but now it is present The braule and grutche / theyr myndes not content Thus mutable men / them pleased can not holde At grete hete grutchyng / & grutchyng whan it is colde Faustus . All pleasure present / of men is counted small Desyre obteyned / some counteth nought at all What men hope after / that semeth grete and dere At lyght by dystaunce / apereth great and clere . Amyntas . Eche tyme and season / hath his delyte and Ioyes Loke in the stretes / beholde the lytell boyes How in fruyte season / for Ioye they synge and hope In lent echeone / full busy is with his tope And now in wynter / for all the greuous colde All rent and ragyd / a man maye them beholde They haue great pleasure / supposynge well to dyne Whan men ben busyed / in kyllynge of fat swyne They get the bladder / and blowe it grete tand thyn With many beanes / or peasen bounde within It ratleth / soundeth / and shyneth clere and fayre Whyle it is throwen / and cast vp in the ayre Echeone contendeth / and hath a grete delyte With fote or with hande / the bladder for to smyte Yf it fall to gronnde / they lyfte it vp agayne This wyse to labour / they count it for no payne Rennynge and lepynge / they dryue a waye the colde The sturdy plowmen / lusty stronge and bolde Ouercometh the wynter / with dryuynge the fote ball Forgetynge labour / and many a greuous fall Faustus . Men labour sorer / in fruyteles vanyte Than in fayre warkes / of grete vtylyte In suche thryftles / we labour for dammage Warke we dyspyse / whiche bryngeth auauntage Amyntas . Towchynge theyr labour / it can not me dysplease Whyle we be in reste / and better here at ease In the warme lyttre / smale payne hathe lytell hyre Here maye we walowe / whyle mylke is on the fyre Yf it be crudded / of brede we nede no crome Yf thou byde Faustus / therof thou shalte haue some Faustus . Wynter declareth / harde nede and pouerte Than men it feleth / whiche haue necessyte Treuly Amyntas / I tell the myne entent We fonde yonge people / be moche improuydent We straye in somer / without thought / care / or hede Of suche thynge as we / in wynter shall haue nede As soone as we here / a bagpype or a drowne Than leue we labour / there is our monaye gone But whan the northe wynde / with stormes vyolent Hath brought cold wynter / pore wretches to turment And voyde of leues / is euery bowe and tree That one maye clerely / the emty nestes se Than is all our woll / and lambes gone and solde We tremble naked / and dye almost for colde Our sholders all bare / our hose and showes rent By retcheles youthe / thus all is gone and spent This cometh for wantynge / of good prouysyon Youthe dayneth counsayle / scornynge dyscrecyon Whan pouerte thus / hathe caught vs in his snare Than dothe the wynter / our madde foly declare Now treuly Amyntas / I tell the my mate That towne dwellers lyue / gretely more fortunate And somwhat wyser / be they also than we They gather treasoure / and ryches in plente They spoyle the lambes / and foxys of the skynne To lappe theyr wombes / and fat sydes therin In lust in pleasure / and in good habundaunce Passe they theyr lyues / we haue not suffysaunce Amyntas . The men of the erthe / be fooles euerychone We poore shepeherdes / be not to blame alone More foly vexeth / the man of the Cyte I graunte vs ouersene / they madder be than we Thoughe I longe season / dyde in the cyte dwell I fauour it not / trouthe bare I boldely tell Thoughe Cytezyns he / of lyuynge reprouable Yet fortune to them / is moche more fauorable Fortune to them / is lyke a moder dere As a stepmoder / she dothe to vs apere Them she exalteth / to honour and rychesse Vs she oppresseth / in care and wretchydnesse What is bayne fortune / but thynge bytuperable An vnhappy madnesse / vnworthy and vnstable Faustus . No doubte Amyntas / let me be fortunate And than shall I soone / become a grete estate My coyne shall encrease / than shortly shall I be Called to offyce / to gouerne a cyte All men shall here me / and gyue me credence The comonte bareheed / shall do me reuerente All other rules / lowe men and comonte Shall gladly desyre / to haue aduyse of me Yf I be happy / and fortune on me smyle Thus shall I assende / and mount within a whyle Aske thou of Cornyx / declare to the he can How coyne more than connynge / exalteth many man Amyntas . O Faustus Faustus / thou erres frome the waye This is not fortune / full lytell do she maye Thoughe I myselfe / rehersed but lately That fortune hathe myght / a man to magnyfy I kepe the opynyon / of wytles comonte And grounded myselfe / on none auctoryte It is not fortune / that graunteth excellence Trewe honour is wonne / by vertu and scyence Yf men gette honour / by other polecy It is no honour / but wretched mysery God maketh myghty / god gyueth trewe honour To godly persones / of godly behauyour God fyrste dysposed / and made dyuersyte Betwene rude plowmen / and men of the Cyte And in what maner / Cornyx thyne owne mate As we went talkynge / recounted to me late Faustus . What tolde the Cornyx / / tell me I the praye He hadde good reason / suche thynges to conuaye His wyt was pregnant / no reason dyde he want But trouche to declare / his monaye was but scant But what than / some man hath pleynte of cunnynge Whiche hath of rychesse / smal pleynte or nothynge Amyntas . In herynge my tale / yf thou haue thy delyte Than take some labour / for now is good respyte Faustus aryse thou / out of thy lyttre hote Go se and vysyte / our wethers in the cote Aryse go and come / thou arte bothe yonge and able After grate colde / hete is more comfortable Go man for shame / he is a slouthfull dawe Whiche leueth profyte / for pleasure of hote strawe Faustus . Thynke not Amyntas / that Fastus hathe dysdayne To do thy pleasure / I shall refuse no payne Loke here Amyntas / lorde benedycyte The cold snowe recheth / moche hygher than my kne Scant maye the houses / suche burthen well susteyne Lesse hurte is tempest / and sodayne storme of 〈◊〉 On toppe of the chymnaye / there is an hepe of 〈◊〉 So hye extendynge / our steple is more lowe The snowe is so whyre / and the sonne so bryght That playnly Amyntas / amasyd is my syght Amyntas . Gyue to the bestes / good rowen in pleynte And stoppe all the holes / where thou can fautes se Stop them with stubbyll / este daube them with some claye And when thou hast done than come agayne thy waye Nought is more noysom / to flocke / cotage / ne folde Than sodayne tempest / and vnprouyded colde What now all redy / frende Faustus here agayne By shorte conclusyon / bad warke apereth playne Thy comynge agayne / me thynke is all to soone Ought to haue mended / or profyte to haue done . Faustus . This combrous wether / made me more dylygent I ran all the waye / bothe as I came and went And there I spedde me / and toke the greter payne Because I lyghtly / wolde be with the agayne After grete colde / it is full swete god wote To tomble in the strawe / or in the lyttre hote Now be we Fastus / in hey vp to the chynne Fully thy promes / I praye the now begynne Tell the begynnynge / of the dyuersyte Betwene rurall men / and men of the cyte I knowe the reason / and talkynge of Cornyx But syth I hym sawe / be passed yeres syxe His socunde Iestes / made me oftetyme full gladde Our fyrst acquayntaunce / was whan I was a ladde Now speke my Faustus / and I shall holde me styll Tyll thou haue ended / and spoken all thy wyll Amyntas . This grete dyfference / and fyrste dyuersyte Betweue rurall men / and them of the cyte Began in this wyse / as cornyx me tolde Whiche well coulde comon / of many maters olde Fyrste whan the worlde / was fourmed and create And Adam with Eue / were set in theyr estate Our lorde conioyned them bothe / as man and wyfe To lyue in concorde / the season of theyr lyfe And them commaunded / mankynde to multyply By generacyon / to get them progeny They bothe obeyed / this swete commaundement With faythfull hertes / and labour dylygent But wolde to Ihesu / they hadde ben wyse and ware From that fatal fruyte / whiche kyndled all theyr care But to my purpose / fyrste Eue hadde chyldren two A sone and a doughter / our lorde dysposed so And so yere by yere / two twynnes forthe she brought Whan god assysteth / man worketh not for nought By suche maner / these two dyde them apply The worlde to fulfyll / encreace and multyply At last our lorde / at ende of fyftene yere To Eue our moder / dyde on a tyme appere And in what maner / now here me Amyntas Adam on the felde / forth with his wethers was His flocke than he fedde / without all drede and fere Than were no wowers / hym nor his wyfe to deare He was not troubled / that tyme with Ielowsy Than was no body / to do that vylany No horned kyddes / were lyuynge at that tyme Longe after this / began this cursed cryme Than was no cocko / betwene the eest and west To laye wronge egges / within a straunge nest Than none suspected / the lyuynge of his wyfe Weclocke was quyet / and pleasaunt without stryfe But after whan people / began to multyply Than fyrste was kyndled / the flame of Ielowsy For that man commynteth / sore dredeth he agayne Fraude fereth falshode / suspectynge oft in vayn● A thefe suspecteth all men of felony Brekers of wedlocke / be full of Iolousy And therfore all suche / as with swerde do stryke Fere to be serued / with the scaberde lyke Thus whyle that Adam / was pytchynge of the folde Eue was at home / and sate on the chressholde With all her babys / and chyldren her about Other on her lappe / within or elles without Now hadde she plesure / them collynge and bassynge And e●te was she busy / them lowsynge and kēmȳge And busy with butter / for to anoynt theyr necke Somtyme she musyd / them pleasauntly to decke In the meane tyme / whyle she was occypyed Our lorde drawynge nere / she sodeynly espyed Anone she blusshed / reuoluynge in her mynde That yf our lorde ther / should al those babys fynde So sone engendred / supposynge he nedes must That it was token / of to great carnall lust And all asshamed / as fast as euer she myght She hasted and hydde / some of them out of syght Some vnder hey / some vnder strawe and chaffe Some in the chymnaye / some in a tubbe of draffe But suche as were fayre / and of theyr stature ryght As wyse and subtyle / reserued she in syght Anone came our lorde / vnto the woman nere And her saluted / with swete and smylynge chere And sayde woman / let me thy chyldren se I come to promote / eche after his degre Fyrste was the woman / amasyd nere for drede At the last she commaunded / the eldest to procede And gaue them comforte / to haue audacyte Though they were bolder / & doubted lesse than she God on them smyled / and them comforted so As we with whelpes / and byrdes vse to do And than at the laste / to the most olde of all He sayde haue thou Ceptre / of rome imperyall Thou arte the eldest / thou shalte haue moost honoure Iustyce requyreth / that thou be emperoure Than to the seconde / he sayde it is semynge That thou be haunsed / to honour of a kynge And vnto the thyrde / he gaue suche dygnyte To guyde an army / and noble duke to be And sayde haue thou here / harde yron and armoure Be thou in batayle / a heed and a gouernoure And so forthe to other / as they were in degre Eche he promoteth / to worthy dygnyte Some made he erles / some lordes some barons Some squyers / knyghtes / some hardy chāpȳos And than brought he forthe / the Ceptre and the crowne The swerde / the pollax / the helme and the haberiowne The stremer / standarde / the getton / and the mace The spere / & the shelde / now Eue hadde grete solace He gaue them armoure / and taught them polecy All thynge to gouerne / concernynge chyualry Than made the Iuges / mayres and gouernoures Marchauntes / shreues / and other protectoures Aldermen / burgeyses / and other in degre After the custome / of courte / and of Cyte Thus all the chyldren / than beynge in presence He set in houour / and rowme of excellence Oftyme reuoluynge / and tournynge in his mynde The caduke honoures / belongynge to mankynde In the meane season / Eue very ioyfull was That all these maters / were brought so well to pas Than fleshe in hast / for to haue pleasour more And them presented / whom she hadde hydde before And vnrequyred / presentynge them sayde she O lorde these also / my veray chyldren be These be the fruyte / also of my wombe Hyd for shamefastnesse / within my house at home O lorde most myghty / hye fader cretour With saue to graunt them / some offyce of honour Theyr heer was ruggyd / poudred all with chaffe Some full of strawes / some other full of draffe Some with cobwebbes / and dust were so arayed That one beholdynge on them / myght be afrayde Blacke was theyr colour / and bad was theyr fygure Uncomely to syght / mysshapen of stature Our lorde not smyled on them / to shewe pleasaunce But sayde to them thus / with trowbled countenaunce Ye smell all smoky / of stubbyll and of chaffe Ye smell of the grounde / of wedes and of draffe And after your sent / and tedyous sauoure Shall be your rowmes / and all your behauour None can a pytcher / tourne to a syluer pece Nor make goodly sylke / of a gotes flece And harde is also / to make withouten fayle A bryght two hande swerde / of a cowes tayle Nomore wyll I make / how be it that I can Of a vyle vylayne / a noble gentylman Ye shall be plowemen / and tyllers of the grounde To payne and labour / shall ye alwaye be bounde Some shall kepe oxen / and some shall hogges kepe Som shall be thresshers / som other shall kepe shepe To dyg and to delue / to hedge and to dyke Take this for your lot / and other labour lyke To drudge and to dreuyll / in warkes vyle and rude This wyse shall ye lyue / in endeles seruytude Wyppynge / and mowynge / of fother gras & corne Yet shall towne dwellers / ofte laughe you vnto scorn Yet some shall we graunt / to dwell in the cyte For to make podynges / or butchers for to be Coblers / or tynkers / or elles costard Iaggers Hostelers / or daubers / or drowpy water laggers And suche other sorte / whose dayly busynesse Passeth in warkes / and labour of vylenes To stowpe / and to swete / and subiecte to become And neuer to be rydde / from bondage & thraldome Than brought our lorde / to them the carte & harowe The gad / & the whyp / the matoke & the whelebarow The spade / the shouell / the forke and the ploughe And all suche towles / than bad he them be toughe And neuer to grutche / at labonr nor at payne For yf they so dyde / it shoulde be thynge in vayne Thus sayde the father / and lorde omnypotent And than he ascended / vp to the tyrmament Thus began honour / and thus began bondage And dyuersyte / ofcyte and vyllage And seruyle labour / fyrste in this wyse began Demaunde of Cornyx / declare the trouthe he can This tolde me Cornyx / whiche dwelled in the fen I truste his sayenge / before a thousande men Faustus . Is this the mater / praysed of the so sore A strawe for fables / I set by them no store It were a meruayle / yf Cornyx mater tolde To laude of shepeherdes / or plowmen to vpholde He dwelt in the towne / and helde with the cyte Tyll nede hym mouyd / as it hathe dryuen the Whan none of you bothe / dare to the towne resorte Amonge vs shepeherdes / yet fynde ye here conforte So bothe thou and he / be gretely for to blame To ete our vytayle / and than to hurte our name The yonge men of townes / to mocke vs haue a guyse Nought elles can they do / saue lyes to deuyse This vayne inuencyon / and folysshe fayned fable Agayne rurall men / they haue delyte to bable And nought they asshame / as blynde wretches vnwyse Of god almyghty / suche leasynges to deuyse This scorfy scoftynge / declareth openly Agaynste rurall men / rebuke and iniury But thou arte so rude / thy paunche is so fatte Agayne thyne owneselfe / thou busy arte to chatte A lyfe this same Iest / is thy rebuke and blame Thy dullyd reason / can not perceyue the same But I wall proue the / that rurall people be More wyse and noble / than they of the cyte And that the cyte / is full of fraude and stryfe Whan we in vyllage / haue good and quyet lyfe Amyntas . I praye the Fastus / herefore be thou not worthe To haue dyspleasoure of the / I were ryght lothe I thought no mawgre / I tolde it for a bourde Yf I hadde knowen / I shoulde haue sayd no worde But saye thy pleasure / now tell forthe thy sentence And I shall here the / with sobre pacyence Faustus . I shall not denye / our payne and seruytude I knowe that plowmen / for the moost parte be rude Now shall I tell the / hygh maters trewe & olde Whiche curteys Candydus / vnto me ones tolde Nought shall I forge / nor of no leasynge bable This is trewe hystory / and no surmysed fable At the benynnynge / of thynges fyrste of all God made shepeherdes / and other men rurall But the fyrste plowman / and tyller of the grounde Was rude and stordy / dysdaynynge to be bounde Rughe and stoborne / and Cayn dyde men hym call He hadde no mercy / and pyte none at all But lyke as the grounde / is dull / stony / and toughe Stubberne and heuy / rebellynge to the ploughe So the fyrste ploughman / was stronge and obstynate Frowarde selfe wyllynge / and mouer of debate But the fyrste shepeherde / was meke & nothynge fell Humble as is a lambe / and called was Abell A shepe gyueth mylke / and lytell hathe of gall So this good Abell / hadde none yll wyll at all No shepeherde founde hym / iniuryous nor wronge In durynge his lyfe / whyle he was them amonge And oft of his flocke / made he good sacryfyce Of calfe or lambes / suche as were most of pryce And of fat wethers / the best not spared he To honour our lorde / and pease his deyte Thus hadde he fauour / with god omnypotent So pleasynge our lorde / that to this tyme present From fyrst begynnynge / of erth● and man mortall God hathe hadde fauoure / to people pastorall And poore shepeherdes / theyr cotes / felde and shepe Aungelles haue come / for to defende and kepe Some shepeherdes were / in londe of asserye Thiche after haue ben / promoted very hye So that from cotes / and houses pastorall They haue ascended / to dygnyte royall Chargys and labour / so dothe my reason blynde That call theyr names / can I not vnto mynde Yet let me stody / auoydynge perturbaunce So mane I call them / vnto my remembraunce ●o now I haue them / Abraham / and I●cob Lot / Isaac / yonger / Ioseph / and Iob These now rehersed / and all the patryarches Haue not dysdayned / pore shepe nor herdes warkes Them hathe our lorde / called from humble thynges And made them prynces / dukes / other kynges So haue they chaunged / theyr clothynge pastorall With golden garment / purpure / and gaye pall And than haue after by magnanymyte Brought noble reyalmes / in theyr captyuyte And haue in batayle / ben myghty conquerours Won fame immortall / and excellent honours Parys was pastour / the sone of Pryamus Pan / Sylene / Orphens / and Ioly Tyterus Sawll was shepherde / so was he in lykewyse Whiche wolde haue offred / his sone in sacryfyse Moyses was shepherde / and was his flocke kepynge Whan he came barefote / vnto the busshe flamynge Commannded by god / to leue his flocke and go On goddes message / to sturdy Pharao Also Apollo was harde / somtyme in Grece Nothynge dysdaynynge / to handle ewe and flece As wryteth poetes / he lefte dyuyne honour Gladde amonge wethers / to be a gouernour The blessyd aungelles / brought to suche men as we Message of concorde / of peas / and vnyte And songe that gloria / styenge in the skye Whiche our syr Sapson / doth synge so merely Fyrst hadde shepeherdes / sure tydynge by message That god was made man / to bye hamayne lynage And herdes instructe / by voyce angelycall Sawe god incarnate / and brone fyrste of all And this was pleasour / of goddes maieste That symple herdes / hym fyrste of all soulde se And in theyr maner / make vnto hym offrynges Before estates / as ryche and myghty kynges The ioly harper / whiche after was a kynge And slewe the gyaunt / so stoutly with his slynge Was fyrste a shepeherde / or he hadde dygnyte Ryght so were many / as stoute and bolde as he And our lorde Ihesu / our god and sauyour Named hymselfe / a shepeherde or a pastour Ryght so he named / men meke and pacyent His flocke and his shepe / for maners innocent Thynke not these wordes / glosyd nor in vayne They are the gospell / so sayth syr Peter playne I sawe them myselfe / well paynted on the wall Late gasynge vpon / our chyrche cathedrall I sawe grete wethers / in pycture and small lambes Dauncynge / some slepynge / some sowkynge of theyr dammes And some on the grounde / me semed lyenge styll Than sawe I horsemen / at pendant of an hyll And the thre kynges / with all theyr company Theyr crownes glywerynge / bryght and oryently With theyr presentes / and gyftes mystycall All this behelde I / in pycture on the wall But the poore pastoures / as people innocent Fyrst sawe the Cryb / of our lorde omnypotent Thus it apereth / god loueth poore pastours Seth he them graunted / to haue to grete honours Our lorde hathe fauour / bothe in the shepe and folde As it apereth / by the hostoryes olde Our lorde is redy / to socour the vyllage Despysenge townes / for malyce and outrage For god is content / with symple pouerte Pryde he despyseth / and wrongfull dygnyte Amyntas . In good fayth Fastus thy tale is verytable Grounded on lernynge / and gretly commendable Lately myselfe / to se that pycture was I sawe the manger / I sawe the oxe and asse I well remembred / the people in my mynde Me thynke yet I se / the blacke facys of ynde Me thynke yet I se / the herdes and the kynges And in what maner / were ordred theyr offrynges As longe as I lyue / the better shall I loue The name of herbes / and cytezyns reproue Wherfore mate Fastus / I praye god gyue the care Yf thou the fautes / of ony cyte spare Speke on / and spare not / and touche theyr errour Yet maye me comon / more than a large houre . Faustus . Than tourne we to talke / a whyle of Cysezyns To touche theyr foly / and parcell of theyr synnes Thynke not Amyntas / that they of the cyte Lyue better lyfe / or wyselyer than we All yf theyr clothynge / be doubled for the colde And thoughe they glyster / so gayly in bryght golde Shynynge in sylkes / in purpure / or veluet In furryd robys / or clokes of scarlet And we poore herdes / in russet cloke and hode It is not clothynge / can make a man be good Better in in ragges / pure lyuynge innocent Than a soule defyled / in sumptuous garment Trust me Amyntas / my selfe with these same eyen Haue in the cyte / suche oftentymes seen Iet in theyr sylkes / and bragge in the market As they were lordes / I oft haue seen them Iet Whiche are starke beggers / and lyue in nede at home And oft go to bedde / for nede with empty wombe Nought is more folysshe / than suche wretches be Thus with proude porte / to cloke theyr pouerte What is nede clohed / or fayned habundaunce Pouerte / slouthe / and wretched gouernaunce What is fayre semblaunce / with thought and heuynes Forsoth nought elles / but cloked folysshnes And some haue I seen / whiche is a thynge damnable That whyle they wolde haue / a lyuynge delectable Best at theyr pleasure / and fare delycyously Haue suffered theyr wyues / defyled wyttyngly Haue solde theyr doughters / floure of vyrgynyte O deed vnworthy / O blynde inyquyte Fame honour the soule / and chastyte be solde For wretchyd lyuynge / o cursed thurst of golde O damnable dede / so many for to spyll One wretchyd carkes / and bely for to fyll What thynge is vyler / what more abhomynable What thynge more folysshe / more fals & detestable . Amyntas . What yf they can not / to other crafte them gyue Nor fynde ather waye / or meanes for to lyue Nede hath no lawe / of two ylles parde To chose the leest yll / is none iniquyte Faustus . Seth they haue as many / soules as haue we As moche of reasone / and handes lyke plente Why maye they not / to honest warke them gyue And fynde other waye / and maner for to lyue No lawe permytteth / nor wylleth man parde To commyt mordre / for harde neressyte Nomore shoulde ony / his soule defyle nor kyll For lust transytory / or pleasure to fulfyll Yet be in cytees / mo suenge folysshnes Wenynge by crafte / for to haue grete ryches By whiche craftes / no man hathe ryches founde Syth tyme that our lorde / fyrst fourmed man & grounde As Alkemystys / wenynge by polecy Nature to alter / and coyne to multyply Some wasshe rude metall / with lycours many folde Of herbes wenynge / to tourne in to golde All pale and smoky / by suche contynuall And after labour / they lose theyr lyfe and all An other sort is / to this not moche vnlyke Whiche spende theyr tymes / in wretehyd art magyke Therby supposynge / some treasour to haue founde Whiche many yeres / is hydde within the grounde What is more folysshe / more full of vanyte Or more repugnynge / to faythe and probyte Because they woldeste / good busynesse and payne They vse suche tryfles / & wretched thynges vayne They proue all thynges / because the wolde do nought Styll sekynge newes / styll troubled in theyr thought Because they woldeste / the labour of the lande All ydle tryfles / such taketh on theyr hande Styll be they busy / and neuer come to ende To thynge profytable / do fewe of them intende Some lyue by rapyne / gyle / fraude and polecy Pariury / oppressyon / and some in vsury Some gladly borowe / and neuer paye agayne Some kepe from seruauntes / the stipend of theyr payne Some rest men gyltles / and caste them in pryson Some by stronge theues / out of the dongyon Some fawn some flater / man trust not whan they smyle Than frame the fraudes / men slyly to begyle Some in one houre / more promes to the wyll Than all his dayes / he thynketh to fulfyll By thousande meanes / of fraude and craftynesse Ly they in wayte / for honour and rychesse They fede the ryche / and often let the pore Dye for pure colde / and hungre at theyr dore We fede fat oxen / they Marmosettes kepe We fede fat Kyddes / Lambes / and good shepe And they fede hawes / apes / also houndes And small is theyr Ioye / saue here within our boundes We brynge them butter / egges / chese / and woll Tancardes of mylde / and creame fletynge full All maner flesshe / and all theyr hole lyuynge Without our labour / treuly they haue nothynge We are the feders / of wethers and fat hogges And they of the cyte / fede byrdes / and grete dogges Now Iuge Amyntas / whiche of these semeth the Of most auauntage / and most nobylyte Amyntas . Yf by your labour / procedeth more rychesse And most auauntage / as semeth trouthe doubteles Than this I meruayle / that they of the cyte Haue so grete pleynte / and we necessyte The cause can not I / call to my remembraunce Wherof procedeth / theyr store 〈◊〉 abundaunce Faustus . The cause I tolde the / what woldest thou haue more By fraude / and falshode / haue they so mykyll store Seest thou not playnly / how they of the cyte Dayly dysceyueth / our poore symplycyte With that cruelte / agaynste vs they rage By fals oppressyon / or fayre fayned langage They thynke it pleasoure / that sorowe on them hap By glosed wordes / to take vs in trappe The most of them all / count it an almes dede Vs herdes to fraude / this is a gentyll mede For them we labour / in hete / wynde / colde and rayne And fraude & dysceyte / the paye vs for our payne With myndes and tongue / they stody and they muse Bothe daye and nyght / vs herdes to abuse Theyr wyt and body / all hole do they ply For vs poore wretches / to stody polecy And after theyr fraude / gyle and decepcyon Than do they laughe vs / vnto derysyon Amyntas . Now came thou to knowlege / of this enormyte And of these maners / of them of the cyte My selfe there ●onned / and there was couuersaunt Of some of these thynges / yet am I ygnoraunt Faustus . Thou coude not perceyue well / theyr enormyte Parchaunce thy maners / dyde with theyr lyfe agre There seldome is sene / grete contradyccyon Where men accordeth in dysposycyon No faute with moryans / is blacke dysformyte Because all the sorte / lyke of theyr fauour be So couthe thou not se / theyr vyces nor them blame Because thy owne lyfe / was fyled with the same But how I knowe them / now shall I tell to the Whyle I brought butter / to sell to the Cyte And other vytayle / I vsed mylke to cry Than hadde I knowlege / with an apotecary Of hym I lerned / moche fashode and practyse Not to the purpose / the same to excercyse He couthe make playsters / & newe cōmyxcyons In valour scant worthe / a couple of onyens Yet solde he the same / as it were golde so dere Namely / yf happened / ony infectyfe yere I was aquaynted / with many an hucster With a costardemonger / and with an hostler This thefe was crafty / poore people to begyle None lyke I suppose / within a dosen myle Amonge all other / his fraudes and his crymes He solde one botell / of hey a dosen tymes And in the otes / couthe he well droppe a candell Well knewe he how / his gestes for to handle And in the same In / there dwelt a prety pryme She couthe well flater / and glose with hym & hym And necke a mesure / her smyrkynge gan her sale She made ten shylynge / of one barell of ale Whome she begyled / in pottes she was fayne To wyn them with flesshe / and paynted loke agayne And as I remembre / her name was wanton besse Who leest with her delt / he thryued not the lesse What nede more processe / no crafte of the cyte Is but is myngled / with fraunde and subtylte Saue onely the crafte / of an apotycary That is all fraude / and gylefull polecy But all these wolde swere / that they were innocent Or they to the cyte / dyde fyrste of all frequent There lerned they / thefte and fraude to exercyse And man of nature / is moued soone to vyce Some 〈◊〉 also / whiche spende theyr patrymony Whiche was to them lette / by theyr olde auncestry On queanes / bawdes / in ryot and dronkenesse Theyr name defylynge / despysynge all goodnesse With cost and paynes / suche busuly labour Sekynge for shame / and dethe before theyr houre Sa●● where is custome / of fornycacyon Incest auoutry / and defloracyon Forsynge of women / murdre and rapyne Dyscorde & braulynge / and lyuynge lyke to swyne Malyce / enuy / and all iniquyte Do these not rayne / in myddes of the cyte All newe abusyon / prouokynge men to synnes Hadde fyrst begynnynge / amonge the cytezyns Where dwell grete prynces / and myghty gouernours Theyr lyfe dyspysynge / for to haue vayne honours Capytaynes / souldyours / and all lyke company Whiche put for money / theyr lyfe in ieopardy These dwell not vpon londe / but haunteth the cyte Pore herdes fyght not / but for necessyte For lyberte / lyfe / and iustyce to vpholde Towne dwellers fyght / for vayne honour / & golde We fyght / our frendes / and housholde to defende They fyght for malyce / to ryches to ascende Our cause and quarell / is to meynteyne the ryght But all on selfe wyll / without reason they fyght They seke by woundes / for honour and rychesse And dryue the wekest / to hardest busynes O blynde sowdyour / why settest thou thy hert For a vayne stypende / agayne a mortall darte By thousande peryllys / thou takest thy passage For a small Lucre / rennynge to grete dammage Theyr swete lyfe they gyue / for a poore stypende And ofte lese they bothe / and heuen at the ende Whyle some contendeth / and fyghteth for his wage His lyfe he spendeth / than fare well auauntage What is more folysshe / or lyker to madnesse Than to spende the lyfe / for glory and rychesse What thynge is glory / laude praysynge or fa●● What honour report / or what is noble name Forsothe nought but voyce of wytles comonte And vayne opynyon / subiecte to to vanyte Proceste of yeres / reuoluynge of season Bryngeth all these / soone in oblyuyon Whan lyfe is faded / all these ben out of syght Lyke as with the sonne departeth the daye lyght They all be fooles / whiche medleth with the see And otherwyse myght lyue / in theyr owne countr● He is but a foole / whiche runneth to tempest And myght lyue on londe / in suerte and in rest He is but a foole / whiche hathe of good plenty And it dysdayneth / to vse and occupy And he whiche lyueth / in care and wretchydnes His heyre to promote / to londes and rychesse Is most foole of all / to spare in mysery With good and londes / his heyre to magnyfy And he which leueth / that thynge for to be done Unto his doughter / executour or sone Whiche he hymselfe / myght in his lyfe fulfyll He is but a foole / ond hath but lytell skyll But all these sortes / within the cyte be They want of wysdome / and sue enormyte And also the youthe / in dayes festyuall Do nought but folowe / theyr lustes bestyall The weke they vse them / in worldly busynesse The sondaye serueth / to folowe vycyousnes What tyme the shoppes / be closed all and shyt Than is the market / with Thays / Beale / & Kyt On hyest dayes / suche ware in namely solde For nought it waxeth / yf it be ones olde Npo●●he sondaye / whan men shoulde god honour L●● is good laboure / ensued is errour Oftyme the olde frere / that wonned in grenewyche Agayne suche folyes / was boldly wont to preche He sayde where baudes / and theyr abusyone Were wonte to abyde / in one vyle place alone Now are they sprencled / and sparcled abrode Lyke wyse as shyppes / be docked in a rode That harde is to knowe / good women frome the yll By yll example / good are in doubte to spyll Bawdes be suffred / so where they lyste to byde That the strete fadeth / vpon the water syde Cate / Iyll mably / Phylys / and feat Ieny Because of the cyte / now can not get one peny Vyle Thays was wont / in angles for to be Now hathe she power / in all the hole cyte Amyntas . Thou pasest mesure / Faustus by god a vowe Thou sayst of malyce / ryght well perceyue I nowe Mytygate thy mynde / and tongue for it is shame Men of the cyte / thus largely to blame What man is fautles / remembre the vylage How men vplondysshe / on holy dayes rage Nought can them tame / they be a beastly sort In swete and labour / hauynge most chefe comforte On the holy daye / as soone as morne is past Whan all men resteth / whyle all the daye dothe last They drynke / they banket / they reuell and they Iet They lepe / they daunce / despysynge ease and rest Yf they ones here / a bagpype or a drone Anone to the elme / or oke be they gone There vse they to daunce / to gambaud / and cor●ge Suche is the custome / and vse of the vyllag● Whan the grounde resteth / from rake plough & wheles Than must they it trouble / with burthen of theyr heles To Baccus they banket / no feest is festyuall They chyde and the chat / they vary and they brall They rayle and they route / they reuell and they cry Laughynge / and lepynge / & makynge cuppes drye Faustus . What stynt thou thy chat / these wordes I defy It is to a vylayne / rebuke and vylanye Suche rurall solace / so playnly for to blame Thy wordes soundeth / to thy rebuke and shame Amyntas . Not so frende Faustus / I spoke it but in game Agayne to the cyte / retourne in gooddes name Faustus . Yet of the cyte / mo foles tell can I Whiche wene to nombre / the sterres of the skye By them supposynge / eche desteny to tell But all be fooles / that with this mater mell Yet be they madder / whiche fyxeth theyr entent To serche the nature / of god omnypotent And dare be so bolde / to set theyr mortall syght On incomprehensyble / and pure immortall lyght Our fayth is better / for they of the cyte Beleue by reason / with grete dyffyculte Or they wyll byleue / they brawle with argument Playne speche suffyseth / vs people innocent Agayne syr Sampson / theyr quarell they defende We aske no questyon / and vse not to contende We lyght the alters / and many candels offre Whan they of the towne / skantly make a proffer Th●●ayth is feble / our fayth is sure and stable They dare be bolde / with doctours for to bable A worldly marchaunt / nought knowynge of doctryne Because of his coyne / counteth his reason fyne Trust me Antyntas / no force who hereth me The coyne and connynge / doth not alwaye agre For some be that haue / grete pleynte of that one Whiche of that other / haue lytell parte or none What shoulde the foles / that dwell in the cyte Or we seke to knowe / of goddes pryuyte Yf it were nedefull / the godhed for to knowe To symple wretches / here on the grounde alowe It is in power / of god omnypotent His very presence / to vs to represent But seth his knowlege / is comprehensyble Why seketh fooles / for thynges impossyble And seth god wyll be / vnknowen vnto vs Why sholde thyne mortall / of endeles thyng dyscus And ruyall people / in almys doth excell Aboue all the sorte / whiche in the cyte dwell We gyue woll and chese / our wyues coyne and egges Whan freres flater / and pryse theyr propre legges For a score of pynnes / and nedles two or thre A gentell cluner / two cheses hadde of me Phylys gaue coyne / because he dyd her charme Euer syth that tyme / lesse hathe she felte of harme Yet is in the cyte / a nombre incurable Pleders / and brokers / a foule and shamefast rable Marchauntes of Iustyce / hunters of ryches Cratchers of coyne / delayers of processe Prolongynge causes / and makynge wronge of ryght And ryght of plame wronge / opp̄uyng law with myght Iaylers of Iustyce / theyr cursed couetyse Watreth the plantes / of cruelte and vyce Amyntas . This haue I proued / by playne experyence But tell me Fastus / what causeth this offence Faustus . The rote and the grounde / of this mysgouernaunce Is fauour rewarde / and wylfull ygnoraunce Whan coyn or fauour / ones dymmeth hath the syght Adieu all Iustyce / in pryson layd is ryght Yet be in townes / a rable fraudelent Murdrers of people / and fre of ponysshement Vauntynge and bostynge / themselfe of medycyne And nought perceynynge / of scyence and doctryne Yf they be fetred / with rynges and with cheynes Than may they handle / and touche pryuy vaynes Name all dyseases / and sores at theyr wyll Auoyde of connynge / of reason other skyll Suche ryde on mules / and pages by theyr syde But yf they hadde ryght / on asses shoulde they ryde As touchynge rulers / of all the comonte The more that they haue of hye auctoryte Of lyberte wyll / and synguler pleasure So moche the more / poore people they deuoure The houndes somtyme / wont foldes for to kepe Be now wylde wolues / deuourynge all the shepe Rulers be robbers / and pyllers be pastours Gone is the guydynge / of godly gouernours O where be rulers / meynteyners of Iustyce Where be subduers / and slakers of all vyce Where he the frendes / of mercy and pyte Somtyme well rulynge / not spoylynge of the cyte Whe●●e chast rulers / iust meke and lyberall Chaunged is fortune / dethe hathe deuoured all The worste remayneth / gone ben the meke and Iust In stede of vertue / ruleth frewyll / and lust where be the fathers / ryght worthy an empyre Of whome men counted / gaye talys by the fyre Somtyme with talys / and otherwhyle with songe So dryuynge a waye / the wynter nyghtes longe Alas Amyntas / nought bydeth that is good No not my cokers / my tabert / nor my hood All is consumed / all spent and worne be So is all goodnesse / and welthe of the cyte The temples pylled / dothe bytterly complayne Poore people wayleth / and cal for helpe in vayne Poore wydous sorowe / and chyldren fatherles In vayne bewayleth / whan wolues them oppresse Syn hath no scourge / and vertu no rewarde Who loueth wysdome / his fortune is but harde Counceyll and cunnynge / now tombles in the dust But what is the cause / lawe tourned is to lust Lust standeth in stede of lawe / and of Iustyce Wherby good lyuynge / subdued is by vyce Amyntas . I tell the Faustus / this hastynes of the Passeth the bondes / of ryght and honeste All men thou blamest / by wrothe and hastynesse As all cytezyns / were full of vycyousnesse What man remembre / some lyue in innocence Some in the Cyte / be partles of offence Faustus . I am not angry / I saye but veryte Here me Amyntas / one clause with breuyte As many todes / as bredeth in Irelonde As many Grypes / as bredeth in Englonde As many Cockowes / as synge in Ianuary And nyghtyngales / as synge in February And as many whalys / as swymmeth in the fen So many ben there / in cytes of good men Amyntas . A good man is geason / not easy to be founde On londe or in cyte / or ouer all the grounde Many thynges longe / vnto a parfyte man Aske that of Codrus / declare the trouthe he gan Badnes encreaseth / and ouer fast dothe growe Goodnes and vertu / in comynge vp ben slowe Faustus . Thou art madde I trowe / so many foes haue we As dwell cytezyns / in all the hole cyte They clyp vs / they poll vs / they py● vs to the skyn And what they may get / that thynke they well to wyn To theft they constrayne vs / I tell the by all Halows And after by and by / they sende vs to the Galows Therfore it is reason / yf ought of theyrs hap Or come to our clawes / it pryuely to trap They vs oft dysceyue / dysceyue we them agayne Deuyse we slyly / gyle subtyll and trayne But this Amyntas / to me is gretest grefe And doubt for it is yll / stelynge from a thefe Yf it be secret / we maye it well deny Yf it be knowen / excuse it craftely Preue felony / thoughe it be vsed longe Is not called theft / but iniury and wronge All that they haue / within these townes playne 〈◊〉 harde labour / sore trauayle & grete payne Amyntas . Now thou exeedest / the marke of equyte Thou passest reason / Faustus I tell to the Faustus . What than Amyntas / haue pacyence a whyle Towne dwellers vyces / dothe all the worle defyle The ayre is corrupt / by theyr enormyte These somer stormes / whence come they tell thou me Lyghtnynge / grete wyndes / flodes / hayle / & thundre I well remembre / ofttyme the grounde here vnder Ryght sore hathe quaked / and caused houses fall Vyce of the cyte / is rote and cause of all The sonne in myddaye / oftyme hathe lost his lyght In lykewyse the mone / in season of the nyght Bothe hathe ben blacke / or elles reed as blode This sygne Amyntas pretendeth vs no good Why growe the wedes / and cokyll in the corne Why is haye and grasse / oftymes all forlorne Why lose we our sede / our labour und expence Where cometh moryen / and greuous pestylence All these procedeth / by madde enormyte And corrupte maners / of them of the cyte And wors is lykely / yet after warde to fall Yf they not refourme / theyr lyuynge bestyall Whence came the furour / of harnes and batayle Which causeth wydowes / theyr spouses to bewayle Whiche bryngeth with it / all kynde of mysery As theft / and murdre / grete deth / and penury Forsoth in cytees / this furour fyrste began To the confusyon / of many a doughty man The cyte is well / and grounde orygynall Bothe fyrst and last / of dedelyylles all Bredde in the cyte / was cruell Lycaon Bredde amonge herbes / was good Dewra●y● Amonge shepeherdes / norysshed was Rennus And also his brother / the myghty Romulus The cause of the flode / in Cyte fyrste began Wherby was wasted / nere euery best and man Our lorde dsteroyed .v. Cytes for outrage Rede where for synnes / he wasted one vyllage I trowe whan the worlde / with fyre shall wasted be The cause shall procede / and come of some cyte What shall I touche the sauour and the stynke Whiche is in cytes / of gutter and of synke There men be choked / with vyle and deedly ●●nt Here haue we odour / of floures redolent I count me happy / whiche won in the vyllage As vndefyled / with Cytezyns outrage . Amyntas . Haue done now Faustus / laye there a strawe and Fyll we our bely / with cruddes that is best Leue we the cyte / and all Cyuyle outrage Now it is season / to torne to the potage After our dyner / is best as in my mynde The rest to declare / yf ought remayne behynde . Finis .

Here endeth the .v. Eglog of Alexandre Barclay of the Cytezyn / and vplondysshman / Inprynted at London in flete strete / at the sygne of sonne / by Wynkyn de worde .