A pretie and mery new enterlude: called the Disobedient child. Compiled by Thomas Ingelend late student in Cambridge

¶ The Sonne . LAther I beseche you father , shewe me the waye What thynge I were best to take in hand , Wherby this shorte lyfe so spende I maye That all gryefe and trouble , I myght withstande . ¶ The Father . ¶ What is the meanynge ( my chylde ) I the praye This question to be maunde of me ? For that thynge to so , I am glad alwaye Which shoulde not be greuous to the. ¶ The Sonne . ¶ Marye but therfore , of you counsell I take , Seynge nowe my Chyldehood , I am cleane past , That vnto me ye playnely do make , What to a yongman is best for to tast . ¶ The Father . ¶ I see nothinge truely my Sonne so mete And to proue so profytable for the As vnto the Schole to moue thy feete , With studious Laddes , there for to be . ¶ The Sonne . ¶ What the Scholeen aye father , naye , Go to the Schole is not the best waye , ¶ The father . ¶ Saye what thou lyste , for I can not inuent A waye more commodyous in my Iudgement . ¶ The Sonne . ¶ It is well knowne howe that ye haue loued Me heretofore at all tymes most tenderlye But now ( me thynke ) ye haue playnely shewed Certayne tokens of hatred For if I shoulde go to my Booke after your aduyse Whiche haue spent my Chyldehood so pleasauntlye , I maye then seeme dryuen out of Paradyse To take payne and woe , gryefe and myserye . All thynges I had rather sustayne and abyde The busynes of the Schole ones cast asyde , Therfore thoughe ye crye tyll ye reue asunder I wyll not meddle with such a matter . ¶ The Father . ¶ Why can not I thee thus much perswade For that in my mynde is the best trade . ¶ The Sonne . ¶ Whan all is saide and all is done , Concernynge all thynges both more and lesse Yet lyke to the Schole none vnder the Sonne Bryngeth to children so much heauynesse . ¶ The Father . ¶ What though it be paynfull , what thought it be greues , For so be all thynges at the fyrste learnynge , Yet meruaylous pleasure it bryngeth vnto vs As a rewarde for suche paynes takynge . Wherfore come of and be of good cheare And go to thy Booke without any feare For a man without knowledge ( as I haue read ) Maye well be compared to one that is dead . ¶ The Sonne . ¶ No more of the Schole , no more of the Booke That wofull worke is not for my purpose For vpon those Bookes I maye not looke , If so I dyd , my laboure I should lose . ¶ The Father . ¶ Why than to me thy fansye expresse That the Schole matters to the are counted werynesse ¶ The Sonne . ¶ Euen as to a great man , wealthy and ryche Seruice and bondage is a harde thynge So to a Boye both dayntie and nyce Learnynge and studye is greatly displeasynge . ¶ The father . ¶ What my Chylde , displeasynge I praye the ? That maketh a man lyue so happyly . ¶ The Sonne . ¶ Yea by my trouthe , suche kynde of wysdome Is to my hearte I tell you , verye lothesome . ¶ The Father . ¶ What tryall therof hast thou taken That the Scole of thee is so ill bespoken ? ¶ The Sonne . ¶ What tryall therof woulde ye fayne knowe ? Nothynge more easye then this to showe : At other boyes handes , I haue it learned , And that of those truelye most of all other Which for a certen tyme haue remayned In the house and pryson of a Scholemayster ¶ The Father . ¶ I dare well saye that there is no myserye But rather Ioye , pastyme , and pleasure Alwayes with Scholers hapynge company , No lyfe to this , I the wall assure . ¶ The Sonne . ¶ It is not true Father which you do saye , The contrarye therof is proued alwaye , For as the Brute goeth by many a one , Their tender bodyes both nyght and daye Are whypped and scourged , and beate lyke a stone That from toppe to toe , the sayn is awaye . ¶ The Father . ¶ Is there not ( saye they ) for them in this case , Gyuen other whyle for pardone some place ? ¶ The Sonne . ¶ None truely none , but that alas , alas Diseases amonge them do growe apase . For out of their backe and syde doth floe , Of verye goore bloode merueylous abundance , And yet for all that is not suffered to goe , Tyll death be almost seene in their countinaunce . Shoulde I be content then thyther to runne , Where the bloude from my breeche thus shoulde spuane , So longe as my wyttes shall be myne owne , The Scholehouse for me shall stande alone . ¶ The Father . ¶ But I am sure that this kynde of facion Is not shewed to children of honest condicion . ¶ The Sonne . ¶ Of trouth with these Maisters is no dyfference For alyke towardes all , is their wrathe and violence . ¶ The Father . ¶ Sonne in this poynt , thou art quyte deceyued And without doubte falsely perswaded For it is not to be iudged that any Scholemayster , Is of so great fiersenes and crueltye And of yonge Infantes so sore a tormenter That the breath shoulde be about to leaue the bodye . ¶ The Sonne . ¶ Father this thynge I coulde not haue beleued But of late dayes I dyd beholde In honest mannes sonne hereby buryed Which throughe many strypes was dead and colde . ¶ The Father . ¶ Perauenture the Childe of some disease did laboure Which was the cause of his Sepulture . ¶ The Sonne . ¶ With no disease surely , was he disquieted , As vnto me it was then reported . ¶ The Father . ¶ If that with no such thynge he were infected What was the cause that he departed . ¶ The Sonne . ¶ Men saye , that of this man , his bloudy mayster Who lyke a Lyon most commonly frowned , Beynge hanged vp by the heeles togyther ▪ Was bealy and buttocke greuouslye whipped . And last of all ( whiche to speake I trembled ) That his head to the wall he had often crusshed . ¶ The Father . ¶ Thus to thynke Sonne , thou art beguyled verilye , And I woulde wysshe the to suppose the contrary . And not for suche tales my counsell to forsake Which only do couet thee learned to make . ¶ The Sonne . ¶ If Demesthenes and Tully were present truely They coulde not prynt it within my head hapely . ¶ The Father . ¶ Yet by thy fathers wyll and intercession , Thou shalt be content that thinge to pardon . ¶ The Sonne . ¶ Commaunde what ye lyst , that onely excepted , And I will by redy your mynde to fulfyll , But where as I shulde to the Schole haue resorted My hande to the Palmer submyttynge styll . I wyll not obey ye theri● to be playne , Thoughe with a thousande strokes I be slayne . ¶ The Father . ¶ Wo is me my Sonne , wo is me , This heauy and dolefull daye to see . ¶ The Sonne . ¶ I graunt in dede , I am your Sonne , But you my Father shall not be , If that ye myll cast me into that pryson , Where torne in peices ye myght me see . ¶ The Father . ¶ Where I myght see the torne and rent ? O Lord I coulde not suche a dede inuent . ¶ The Sonne . ¶ Naye by the Masse , I holde ye , a grote Those cruell tyrauntes cut not my throte : Better it were my selfe dyd fleye , Then they with the Rodde my flesshe shoulde fleye . Well I woulde we dyd this talke omyt , For it is lothesome to me euery whyt . ¶ The Father . ¶ What trade then ( I praye the ) shall I deuyse Wherof thy lyuinge at length maye aryse ? Wilte thou folowe Warfare , and a Souldiour be pointed , And so amonge Troyans and Romaynes be nombred , ¶ The Sonne . ¶ See ye not maysters my Fathers aduyse Haur ye the lyke at any time harde ? To wyll me therto he is not wyse If my yeares and strength he dyd regarde , Ye speake worse and worse , what soeuer ye saye This maner of life is not a good waye . For no kynde of offyce can me please , Which is subiecte to woundes and strokes alwaies . ¶ The Father . ¶ Somwhat to do , it is mete and conueniet , Wylte thou then gyue thy dylygent endenoure To let thy youth vnhonestly be spent And do as poore knaues , which Iares do scoure ? For I do not see that any good Arte Or els any honest Science , or occupacion Thou wylte be content to haue a parte After thy fathers mynde and exhortacion . ¶ The Sonne . ¶ Ha , ha , ha , a laboure in verye deede , God send hym that lyfe which standes in neede . There be many fathers that chyldren haue And yet not make the worst of them a ●aue , Might not you of your selfe be well a shamed Which wolde haue your sonne thyther constrayned ? ¶ The Father . ¶ I woulde not haue the dryuen to that succoure , Yet for bycause the Scriptures declare , That he shoulde not eare , which wyll not laboure Some worke to do it must be thy eare . ¶ The Sonne . ¶ Father , it is but a folye with you to stryue But yet notwithstandynge I hope to thryue ¶ The Father . ¶ That this thyne intente maye take good successe I praye God hartely of hys goodnes . ¶ The Sonne . ¶ Well , well , shall I in fewe wordes reherse , What thinge doth most my Conscience perse ? ¶ The Father . ¶ Therwith I am Sonne very well contented . ¶ The Sonne . ¶ Yea but I thynke that ye wyll not be pleased . ¶ The Father . ¶ In dede peraduenture it maye so chaunce . ¶ The Sonne . ¶ Naye but I praye ye without any perchaunce , Shall not my request turne to your greuannce . ¶ The Father . ¶ If it be iust and lawfull , which thou doest requyre , ¶ The Sonne . ¶ Both iust and lawfull haue ye no feare . ¶ The Father .

Nowe therfore aske , what is thy peticion ?

¶ The Sonne . ¶ Loe this it is without further Dilacion , For so much as all yongmen for this my Beautie , As the Moone , the starres , I do farre excell , Therfore out of m●de , with all spede posy●ly , To haue a wife ( me thynke ) wolde do well , For now I am ●onge , lyuely , and iustie , And welcome besydes to all mennes companye . ¶ The Father .

¶ Good Lord , good Lord , what do I here ?

¶ The Sonne .

¶ Is this your begynnynge to performe my desyre .

¶ The Father . ¶ It is my chylde , what meaneth thy dotynge ? Why doest thou couet thy owne vn doynge ? ¶ The Sonne . ¶ I knowe not in the worlde howe to do the thynge That to his stomacke , maye be delyghtynge . ¶ The Father . ¶ Why fooly she I deot , thou goest about a wyfe Which is a burthen and yoke all thy lyfe . ¶ The Sonne . ¶ Admyt she shall as a burthen with me remayne , Yet ●oyll I take one , if your good wyll I attayne . ¶ The Father .

¶ Sonne it shall not be thus by my counsell .

¶ The Sonne .

¶ I truste ye wyll not me otherwyse compell .

¶ The Father . ¶ If thou were as wyse , as I haue iudged the Thou woldest in this case be ruled by me . ¶ The Sonne . ¶ To folowe the contrarye I can not be turned My hatte theron is styflly fixed . ¶ The Father .

¶ What I saye , about thine owne distruction ?

¶ The Sonne . ¶ No , no , but about myne owne saluation : For if I be helped , If were by the Masse , It is onely Maryage that brynges it to passe . It is not the Schole , it is not the Booke , It is not Science or Occupacion , It is not to be a harbour or Cooke Wherein is now set my consolacion . And synce it is thus , be father content For to marye a wyfe , I am full bent . ¶ The Father . ¶ Well if thou wylt not my Sonne , be ruled But nedes wyll folowe thyne owne foolysshenes , Take hede hereafter if thou be troubled At me thou neuer seeke redresse . For I am certeyn thou canst not abyde Any payne at all , gryefe , or vexacion . Thy Chyldhood with me so easely dyd slyde Full of all pastyme and delectacyon . And if thou woldest folowe the Booke and learnynge , And with thy selfe also , take a wyse waye : Then thou mayst get a gentlemans lynynge And with many other beare a great swaye . Besydes this I wolde in time to come After my power , and small havylytie , Helpe the and further the , as my wysdome , Shulde me most counsell for thy Commodytie . And such a wyfe I woulde prepare for the As shoulde be vertuous , wise and honest , And gyue the wyth her after my degree , Wherby thou mightest alwayes lyue in test . ¶ The Sonne . ¶ I cannot , I tell ye agayne , so much of my lyfe Consume at my Booke without a wyfe . ¶ The Father . ¶ I perceyue therfore . I haue done to well And shewed ouer much fauoure to the , That now agaynst me thou doest rebell And for thyne owne furtheraunce wylt not agree . Wherfore of my goodes thou gettest not a peny Nor anye succoure els at my handes For such a childe is most vnworthy To haue any parte of his fathers landes . ¶ The Sonne . ¶ I do not estéme father your goodes or landes Or any parte of all your treasure , For I iudge it ynoughe to be out of bandes And from this daye forward to take my pleasure . ¶ The Father . ¶ Well , if it shall chaunce the thy folye to repent As thou art lyke within short space , Thynke none but thy selfe worthy to be shent , Lettynge my councell to take no place . ¶ The Sonne . ¶ As touchynge that matter , I wyll no man blame Now farewell father , most hartely for the same . ¶ The Father .

¶ Farewell my Sonne , departe in Goddes name .

¶ The Sonne . ¶ Rome I saye rome , let me be gone My father if he lyst , shall tarye alone . ¶ Here the Sonne goeth out and the Ryche man taryeth behinde alone . ¶ The Father . NOwe at the last I do my selfe consyder Howe great griefe it is and heuynes , To euery man , that is a Father . To suffre his chylde to folowe wantonnes , If I myght lyue a hundred yeares longer And shoulde haue sonnes and daughters many Yet for this Boyes sake , I wyll not suffer , One of them all at home with me to tarye , They shoulde not be kept thus vnder my wynge And haue all that which they desyre , For why it is but theyr onely vndoynge And after the Prouerbe , we put oyle to the fyre . Wherfore we Parentes must haue a regarde , Our Chyldren in time for to subdue Or els we shall haue them euer vntowarde , Yea , spytefull , disdaynfull , nought , and vntrue . And let vs them chruste alwaye to the Schole Wherby at their Bookes they maye be kept vnder : And so we shall shortely their courage coole , And brynge them to honestie , vertue and Nurture . But alas now a dayes ( the more is the pytye ) Science and learnynge is so lytell regarded , That none of vs all doth muse or studye To see our chyldren well taught and instructed . We decke them , we trym them with gorgious araye We pampre and fede them , and kepe them so gaye That in the ende of all this , they be out foes . We basse them , kysse them , we looke rounde about We merualle and wonder to see them so leaue We euer anone doe inuent and seke out , To make them goe tricksie , gallaunt , and cleane . Which is nothyng els , but the very prouokynge To all vnthriftynes , vice , and Iniquitie , It pucteth them vp , it is an allutynge Their fathers and mothers at lengthe to defye . Which thing myne owne Sonne doth playnely declare Whom I alwayes intierly haue loued , He was so my Ioye , he was so my care That now of the same I am despised . And now he is hence from me departed , He hath no delyght with me to dwell , He is not merye vntyll he be maryed , He hath of knauetye tooke such a smell . But yet seynge that he is my Sonne , He doth me constrayne bytterly to weepe , I am not ( me thynke ) well , tyll I be gone For this place I can no lenger keepe . ¶ Here the Ryche man goeth out and the two Cookes commeth in Fyrst the one and then the other . ¶ The Mancooke . NAke hast Blaunche Blabbe it out , & come a waye For we haue ynought to do all this whole daye , Why Blaunche blabbe it out , wilt thou not come And knowest what busynes there is to be done ? If thou maye be set with the pot at thy nose Thou carest not how other matters goes , Come a waye I dyd the , and tarye no longer To trust to thy helpe , I am much the better . ¶ The Maydecooke . ¶ What a Murryn I say , what a noyse doest thou make I thynke that thou be not well in the wyrtes I neuer harde man on this sorte to take With suche angry wordes , and hastie fyttes . ¶ Mancooke . ¶ Why dost thou remembre , what is to be bought For the great Brydale agaynst to morowe ? The market must be in euery place sought For all kynde of meates , God guye the sorow . ¶ Maydecooke . ¶ What bannyng ? what cursynge ? Longtong is with the I made as muche spede , as I coulde possyblye , I wys thou mightest haue taryed for me Vntill in all pointes I had ben redye , I haue for thee looked full oft heretofore , And yet for all that sayde neuer the more . ¶ Mancooke . ¶ Well for this ones , I am with thee content So that hereafter thou make more hast , Or els I tell thee , thou wylte it repent , To loyter so longe , tyll the Market be past . For there must be bought Byefe , Veale , and Mution , And that euen such as is good and fat With Pigge , Geese , Conyes and Capon , Howe sayest thou Blaunch blabbe it out vnto that ? ¶ Maydecooke . ¶ I can not tell Lontonge , what I shoulde saye Of such good cheare I am so glad : That if I woulde not eate all that daye My bealy to fyll , I were verye made . ¶ Mancooke . There must be also Fesaunte and Swa●●e There must be Heronse●er , Particle and Quayle , And therfore I must do , what I can , That of none of all these the Gentelman fayle . I dare saye he lookes for many thinges moe , To be prepared against to worne , Wherfore I saye , hence let vs goe , My feete do stande vpon a thorne . ¶ Maydecooke . ¶ Naye good Long tonge , I praye the ones agayne To here yet of my mynde , a worde or twayne . ¶ Mancooke . ¶ Come of them dispatche , and speake it quicklye For what thynge it is , thou causest me they . ¶ Maydecooke . ¶ Of whence is this Gentelman , that to morowe is matried Where doth his father and his mother dwell ? A boue fourty myles be hath trauayled As yester nyght his Seruaunte dyd tell . Mancooke . ¶ In verye dede , he commes a great waye , With my Mayster he maye not longe abyde , It hath cost hym so muche on costly araye , That Money out of his purse apase doth slyde . They saye that his frendes be ryche and wealthy And in the Cytie of London haue their dwellynge , But yet of them all he hath no peny , To spends and bestowe here at his weddynge . And if it be true that his Seruaunte dyd saye He hath vtterly lost his fryndes good wyll Bycause he wolde not their counsayle ●haye , And in his ●vone Countrey tarye styll . As for this woman , which hee shall marye At Sainet Albones alwayes , hath spent her lyfe I thynke she be a shrew , I tell thee playnely , And full of debate , malyce and stryfe . ¶ Maydecooke . ¶ Thoughe I neuer sawe this woman before Whiche hither with him this Gentelman bo●ught , Yet neuertheles I haue tokens in store , To iudge of a woman that is frowarde and nought . The typ of her nose , is as sharpe as myne Her tonge and her tune is very shryll I warraunt her , she commes of an vng●acius kyn , And loneth to much her pleasure and wyll , What thoughe she be now so neate and so nyce , And speaketh as gentle as euer I hearde : Yet yongmen which be both wyttie and wyse , Such lookes , and such wordes , shulde not regarde . ¶ Mancooke . ¶ Blaunch blabbe it out , thou sayest verye true I thinke thou beginnest at length to preache This thynge to me is straunge and new , To heare such a foole yongmen to teache . ¶ Maydecooke . ¶ A foole mine owne Longtong , why calst thou me foole Thoughe nowe in the kytchyn I waste the daye , Yet in tymes paste I went to Schoole , And of my laten Prymer I tooke assaye , ¶ Mancooke . ¶ Maysters thys woman dyd take such assaye , And then in those dayes so applyed her booke , That one worde therof , she carryed not awaye , But then of a Scholer was made a Cooke . I dare saye she knoweth not , howe her Primer began , Which of her mayster she learned than . ¶ Maydecooke . ¶ I trowe it began with Domine labia aperies . ¶ Mancooke . ¶ What dyd it begyn with butterde peeas ? ¶ Maydecooke . ¶ I tell the agayne , with Domine labia aperies , If nowe to heare , it be thyne ease . ¶ Mancooke . ¶ How , how , with my Madaine laye in the peeas ? ¶ I thynke thou art mad with Domine labia aperies . ¶ Mancooke . ¶ Yea mary , I iudged it went such wayes , It began with Dorothe laye vp the keyes . ¶ Maydecooke . ¶ Naye then God night , I perceyue by thys geare , That none is so deafe , as who wyll not heare , I spake as playnely , as I coulde deuise , Yet me vnderstande , thou canst in no wyse . ¶ Mancooke . ¶ Why yet ones agayne , and I wyll better lysten And looke vpon the , howe thy lyppes do open . ¶ Maydecooke . ¶ Well marke then , and harken ones for all : Or els he are it agayne thou neuer shall , My Booke I saye , began with Domine labia aperies . ¶ Mancooke . ¶ Fye , fye , howe slowe am I of vnderstandynge ▪ Was it all this whyle , Domine labia aperies ? Belyke I haue lost my sense of hearynge , With broylynge and burnynge in the kytchyn adyes . ¶ Maydecooke . ¶ I promysse the thou semest to haue done lytell better For that I wote in my lyfe I neuer sawe , One lyke to thy selfe , in so easye a matter . Unlesse he were deafe , thus playe the Dawe . ¶ Mancooke . ¶ Come on , come on , we haue almost forgotten Such plentie of victualles as we shulde bye It were almes by my trothe , thou were well beaten Bycause so longe thou hast made me tarye . ¶ Maydecooke . ¶ Tusshe tusshe , we shall come in very good season , If so be thou goest as fast as I , Take vp thy basket and quickely haue done We wyll be both there by and by . ¶ Mancooke . ¶ I for my parte wyll neuer leaue runnynge Untyll that I come to the Signe of the Whitynge . ¶ Here the two Cookes runne out and in commeth the Yongman and the Yongwoman his Louer . ¶ The Yongwoman . WHere is my sweetynge , whom I do seeke He promysed me to haue mette me here Tyll I speake with him , I thinke it a weeke For he is my Ioye , he is my chere . There is no night , there is no daye But that my thoughtes be all of hym I haue no delyght if he be awaye , Such toyes in my heade do euerswym . But beholde at the last , where he doth come For whom my harte desyred longe , Now shall I know all a● some , Orels I woulde saye , I had great wronge ¶ The yongman . ¶ My darlynge , my Conye , my Byrde so bryght of blee , Sweete hart I saye , all haylee to thee How do our Loues , be they fast a sleepe Or the olde lynelynes , do to they styll keepe ? ¶ The yongewoman . ¶ Do ye aske and my Loue be fast a sleepe ? O if a womon maye vtter her mynde , My loue had almost made me to weepe Bycause that euen now I dyd not you fynde I thought it surely a whole hundred yere , Tyll in this place I sawe you here . ¶ The yongman . ¶ Alacke , alacke , I am sorye for this , I had such busines I myght not come But ye maye perceyue what my wyt is , How small regarde I haue and wisdome . ¶ The yongwoman . ¶ Wheras ye aske me concernynge my loue I well assure you , it doth dayly augment : Nothynge can make me starte or moue You onely to loue is myne intent . ¶ The yongman . ¶ And as for my loue doth neuer relente , For of you I do dreame , of you I do thynke : To dynner and supper , I neuer went , But of Beere and Wyne to you I dyd drinke . Now of such thynhes therfore to make an ende Which pytyfull louees do cruelly torment , To Maryage in Goddes name , let vs discende As vnto this houre we haue bene bente . ¶ The yongwoman . ¶ Your wyll to accomplysshe I am as redye , As any woman , beleue me truelye . ¶ The yongman . ¶ This Rynge then I gyne you as a token sure , Wherby our loue shall alwayes endure . ¶ The yongwoman . ¶ With a pure pretence your pledge I take gladly For a Signe of our loue , fayth and fydelytie . ¶ The yongman . ¶ Nowe I am safe , nowe I am glad , Nowe I do lyue , nowe I do ra●g●●● Me thought tyll now I was to sad , Wherfore sadnes flye hence agayne . I waye with those words which my father brought out A waye with his saigenes and exhortacion He coulde not make me his foole or his lowte , And put me vesydes this delectacion . Dyd he iudge that I woulde go to the Schoole , And might my tyme spende after this sorte ▪ I am not his Calse , nor yet his foole , This Uirgin I kysse , is my comforte . ¶ The yongwoman . ¶ Well than I praye you let vs be maryed For me thynke from it we haue longe taryed . ¶ The yongman . ¶ Agreed my Sweetynge , it shalve then done , Synce that thy good wyll I haue goten and wone . ¶ The yongwoman . ¶ There wolde this daye be very good theare That euery one his vealy maye fyll . And thre or foure Minstrelles wolde be here That none in the house syt idle or styll . ¶ The yongman . ¶ Take ye no thought for abundaunce of meate That shoulde be spent at our Brydale , For there shal be ynought for all men to eate And Minstrelles besydes therto shall not sayle . The Cookes I dare saye , a good whyle a gone With such kynde of flesshe as I dyd them tell Are from the market both come home Or els my owne Conye they do not well . I knewe before that I come to this place We shoulde be maryed togyther thys daye Which caused me then forth with in this case To sende for victualles or I came awaye . ¶ The yongwoman . Wher fore then ( I praye ye ) shall we go to our Inne , And looke that euery thinge be made redye , Or els all is not worth a Brasse pynne , Such hast is requyred in matry monye . ¶ The yongman . ¶ I thinke sixe a clocke it is , not much passed But yet to the priest we wyll make hast That accordynge to custome we maye be both coupled And with a stronge knot for euer bounde fast . Yet ere I departe , some songe I wyll synge , To the intent to derlare my Ioye without feare And in the meane fyme you maye my swetynge , Rest your selfe in this lytell chayre . ¶ The Songe . SPyte of his spyte , which that in vayne . Doth seeke to force my fantasye , I am profest for losse or gayne , To be thyne owne assucedlye : Wherfore let my father spyte and spurne , My fantasye wyil neuer turne . ¶ Although my father of busye wytte , Doth babble styll . I care not tho , I haue no feare , nor yet wyll flytte , As doth the water to and fro , Wherfore let my father spyte and spurur , My fantasye wyll neuer turne . ¶ For I am set and wyll not swerue , Whom spytefull speache remoueth nought And synce that I thy grace deserue , I count it is not derely bought , Wherfore let my father spyte and spurne , My fantasie wyll neuer turne . ¶ Who is afrayde●●let you hym flye , For I shall well abyde the brunte : Mangre to hys lyppes that lysteth to lye Of busye braynes as is the wonte . Wherfore let my father spyte and spurne , My fantasye wyll neuer turne . ¶ Who lysteth therat to laugh● or loure I am not be that ought doth retche There is no payue that hath the power , Out of my orest your loue to fetche , Wherfore let my father spyte and spurne , My fantasye wyll neuer turue . ¶ for wheras he moued me to the Schoole , And onely to folowe my Booke and learnenynge : He coulde neuer make me such a foole , With all his softe woordes , and fayre speakynge . Wherfore let my father spyte and spurne , My fantasye wyll neuer turne . ¶ This Mynion here , this myneing Trull , Both please me wore a thousande folde : Then all the earthe that is so full . of precious stones , Soluer and Golde . Wherfore let my father spyre and spurne , My fantasye wyll neuer turne . ¶ What soeuer I dyd , it was for her sak It was for her loue , and onely pleasure , I counte it no laboure , such laboure to take , In gettynge to me so hyghe a treasure . Wherfore let my father spyte and spurne , My fantasie wyll neuer turne . ¶ This daye I intended for to be mery , Althoughe my harde Father be farre hence . I knowe no cause for to be beuye , For all this coste and great expence . Wherfore let my father spyte and spurne , My fantasye wyll neuer turne . ¶ How lyke ye this songe , my owne swete Rose , Is it well made for our purpose ? ¶ The yong woman . ¶ I neuer harde in all my lyfe a better , More pleasmante , more meete for the matter , Now let vs go then , the mornynge is nye gone We can not any longer here remaine : Farewell good Masters eueryechone , Tyll from the Churche we come agayne . ¶ Here they go out , and in commeth the Priest along . Syrs , by my trouthe it is a worlde to see , The excedynge negligence of euery one . Euen from the hyest to the lowest degree , Both goodnes and conscience is cleane gone . There is a youge gentelman in this towne , Who this same daye now must be maryed : Yet thoughe I woulde bestowe a Crowne , That knaue the Clarke can not be spyed . For he is safe if that in the Alehouse , He maye syt typlyng of Nut browne Ale : That oft be commes foorth as dronke as Mouse , With a nose of his owne not greatly pale , And this is not once , but euery daye , Almost of my faith , throughe out the whole yeare , That he these trickes doth vse to playe , Without all shame , dreable and feare . He knoweh him selfe that yester nyghte , The sayde yonge gentelman came to me , And then desyred , that he myght This mornynge beiymes maryed be . But now I doubte it wyll be hye noone , Ere that this bufynes be quite ended : Vnlesse the knauys she foole come very soone , That this same thinge maye be dispatched , And therfore synce that this noughty pache , Hath at this present me thus serued . He is like hence forwarde my good wyll to lacke Orels b●wyss I myght be iudged . I am taught hereafter , howe such a one to trust , In day matter concernynge the Churche , For if I shulde , I perceyue that I must , Of myne owne honestie loose verye much . And yet for all this , from weeke to weeke , For his stypende and wages he neuer cryeth , And for the same contynually doth seeke , As from tyme to tyme playnely appeareth , But whyther his wages he hath deserued , Vnto you all I do me reporte , Since that his duetie he hath not fulfylled , Nor to the Churche wyll scant resorte . That many a tyme and oft , I am fayne To playe the Priest , Clarke , and all Thoughe thus to do , it is great payne , And myre warde but very small , Wherfore ( God wyllynge ) I wyll such order take , Before thou I be many dayes elder , That he shal be glad this towne to forsake And learne euermore to please his better . And in such wyse all they shall be vsed , Which in this pacysshe entende to be Clarkes , Great pytie it were , the Churche shoulde be disordered Bycause that such Swylbowles do not their warkes . And to saye trueth , in many a place , And other great townes besyde this same , The Priestes and Parishioners be in the lyke case , Which to the Church wardens maye be a shame . Haw shulde the Priest his offyce fulfyll , Accordyngly as in dede he ought ? When that the Clarke wyll haue a selfe wyll And alwayes in Seruice tyme must be sought ? Notwithstandynge at this present there is no remedy But to take tyme , as it doth fall , Wherfore I wyll go hence and make me ready For it helpeth not to chafe or brall . ¶ Here the Priest goeth out , and in commethe the rych man . ¶ The Ryche man . LOmmynae this daye foorth of my Chambre , Euen as for water to wasshe I dyd call , By chaunce I espyed a certayne straunger , Standynge beneath within my Hall. Who in very deede came from the Inholder Wheras for a tyme my Sonne dyd lye , And sayde that his mayster had sent me a letter And bade hym to brynge it with all spede possyblye . Wherin he did write that as this daye That vnthr●fre my Sonne to a certein Mayde , Shoulde then be wedded , without further delaye , And bath borowed more than wyll be payde . And synce that he harde , he was my Sonne , By a Gentelman or two , this other daye : He thought that it shoulde be very well done , To let me haue knowledge therof by the waye . And wylled me if that I woulde any thynge Of hym to be done of me in this matter : That then he his Seruaunt such worde shulde brynge As at his commynge he might do hereafter . I bade hym thanke his Mayster most hattelye And sent hym , by hym a peece of Venison : For that he vouchesaued to wryte so gentely , Touchynge the marying and state of my Sonne , But notwithstandynge I sent hym no Money , To paye such Dettes as my Sonne dyd owe , Because he had me forsaken vtterly , And mee for his good Father wolde not knowe , And sayde that with hym I woulde not make , From that daye forwarde , burynge my life But as he had brewed , that so be shulde bake , Synce of l●ys owne choosynge , he gat him a wife . Thus what his Seruaunte from the departed Into my Chambre I went agayne , And there a great whyle I pitterly weeped , This newes to me was so great payne : And thus with these wordes I began to mone , Lamentynge and mournynge my selfe all alone . O wadnes , O dotynge of those yonge folke O my ●●es without wytte , aduyse , and discretion , With whom their parentes can beare no stroke In th●se first Matrimoniall coniunction They knowe not what myserye griefe and vnquietnes Wyll hereafter ensue , of their extreme foolysshenes , Of all such laboures , they be cleane ignorant , Which in the nourysshynge and kepynge of Chyldren 〈◊〉 their great charges , it is conuenient Either of them hencefoorth to sustayne : Concernynge expences bestowed in a howse They perceyue as lyttell as doth the Mowse . On the one syde , the wyfe wyll brall and scolde , On the other side the Infant wyll crye in the Cradell : Anone when the Chylde wareth somwhat olde , For meate and drynke , he begynnes to babbell . Herevpon commeth it , that at markettes and fayres A Husbande is forced to bye many wares . Yet for all this hath my foolysshe Sonne As wyse a Wodcocke , without any wytte , Despysynge his Fathers mynde and opynion , Maryed a wyfe for hym most vnfyete , Supposynge that myrth to be eueciastynge , Which then at the fyrste was greatly pleasynge . How they two wyll lyue , I can not tell , Wherto they maye trust , they haue nothynge My mynde ●yueth me , that they wyll come dwell , At length by their father for wante of lyuings , But my Sonne doubtles , for any thynge that I know ▪ Shall reape in such wyse as he dyd sowe , True he shall fynde , that Hippon●rtes dyd wryte Who sayde with a wyfe are two dayes of pleasure The first is the ioye of the Maryage daye and nyght The seconde to be at the wyfes Sepulture : And this by experience he shall proue true , That of his Brydale great euyiles do ensue . And ( as I suppose , ) it wyll proue in his life , When he shall wysshe that to him it maye chaunce , Which vnto Eupolis and also his wife , The nyght they were wedded , fell for a vengeaunce Who with the heuy thyne of the Gedde were slayne , As the Poet Ouid in these two Uerses makes playne , ¶ Si tibi coniugii nox prima , nouissima vite , Eupolis , hoc periit , & noua nupta modo . Ouidius wrytinge agaynst one Ibis his enemye That the fyrst night of his Maryage dyd wysshe The last of his lyfe myght be certenly . For so ( quod he ) dyd Eupolis and hys wife perysshe . Yet to my Soone I praye God to sende Because thervnto me Nature doth bynde : Thoughe he hath offended , a better ende , Then Eupolis and his wyfe dyd fynde . And nowe I shall longe euer anone , Tyll some of those quarters come rydynge hyther , Vnto the which my Sonne is gone , To knowe how they do lyue togyther . But I am fastynge , and it is almost noone And more than tyme that I had dyned : Wherfore from hence I wyll go soone , I thinke by this tyme , my meate is burned . ¶ Here the Ryche man goeth out , and in commeth the yongman his sonne with the yong woman , beynge both maryed . ¶ The Husbande .

O My sweete wyfe , my pretye Conye .

¶ The Wyfe .

¶ O my Husbande , as pleasaunte as Honnye .

¶ The Husbande . ¶ O Lorde wath pleasures and great commodytie , Are heaped togyther in Matrimonye ? ¶ The Wyfe . ¶ Howe vehement , howe stronge a thynge loue is ? Howe many smyrkes , and dulsome kysses ? ¶ The Husbande . ¶ What smylynge : what laughyng ? What sporte , pastyme , and playenge ? ¶ The Wyfe . ¶ What ticklynge : what toyinge , What dalyenge , what ioyenge ? ¶ The Husbande . ¶ The man with the wyfe is wholly delyghted And with many causes to laughter enforced . ¶ The Wyfe . ¶ Whan they two drynke , they drynke togyther They neuer eate , but one wyth another . ¶ The Husbande . ¶ Somtymes to their Garden foorth they walke And into the fyeldes somtymes they go , With mery trickes , and gestures they talke As they do moue their feete to and fro . ¶ The Wyfe . ¶ Somtymes they ryde into the Countrey Passynge the tyme wyth mirth and sporte , And when with their fryndes , they haue ben merye ▪ Home to their owne house they do resorte . ¶ The Husbande . ¶ Somtymes abrode they go , to see playes , And other trym syghtes , for to be holde : When often they meete in the hye wayes Muche of their aquaintaunce they knewe of olde . ¶ The Wyfe . ¶ Sometymes to the Churche , they do repayre To here the Sermon that shal be made : Thoughe it to remembre , they haue small care , For why ? they be now , but fewe of that trade . ¶ The Husbande . ¶ Somtymes at home , at cardes they playe Somtymes at this game somtymes at that They nede not with sadnes to passe the daye Nor yet to syt styll , or stande in one plat . ¶ The Wyfe . ¶ And as for vs wyfes , occasions do mone , Somtymes with our Gossyppes to make good cheare Or els we dyd not , as dyd vs behoue , For certayne daies and weekes in the years . ¶ The Husbande . ¶ I thynke that a man might spende a whole daye Declarynge the Ioyes , and endles blys : Which maryed persones receyue alwaye , If they loue faythfullye , as meete it is . ¶ The Wyfe . ¶ Wyues can not choose , but loue earnestlye If that their Husbandes do all thynges well Or eies my sweete harte , we shall espye , That in quietnes they can not dwell . ¶ The Husbande . ¶ If they do not , it maye be a shame For I loue you hartele I you assure : Or els I were truely greatly to blame Ye are so louynge , so kynde , and demure . ¶ The Wyfe . ¶ I trust that with neither hande or foote , Ye shall see any occasion by mee : But that I loue you euen from the harte roote And durynge my lyfe so intende to be , ¶ The Husbande . ¶ Who then merye Maryage can discommende And wyll not with Aristotle in his Ethickes agree ▪ But wyll saye , that myserye is the ende When otherwyse I fynde it to be : A polytique man wyll marye a wyfe As the Phylosopher makes declaration , Not onely to haue chyldren by his lyfe , But also for lyuynge , helpe , & sustentacion . ¶ The Wyfe . ¶ Who wyll not with Herocles playntly confesse , That Mankynde to Societie is wholly adioynyng● And in this Societie neuerthelesse : Of worthy Wedlocke tooke the begynnynge . Without the which , no Cytie can stande Nor Housholde be perfecte in any lande . ¶ The Husbande . ¶ Pythagoras , Socrates , and Crates also Whiche truely were men of very small Substaunce As I harde my father tell longe ago , Dyd take them wyfes with a safe conscience : And dwelled togyther , supposynge that they Were vnto Philosophy , nother stoppe nor staye . ¶ The Wyfe . ¶ yea what can be more accordynge to kynde Then a man to a woman hym selfe to bynde ? ¶ The Husbande . ¶ Awaye with those therfore that Mariage despyst And of daungers therof inuent many lyes . ¶ The Wyfe . ¶ But what is he that commeth yonder , Do ye not thinke it is our man ? Somewhat there is that he hasteth hyther , For he makes asmuche speed as he can . ¶ Here the Seruaunte of the Kyche mannes Sonne commeth in , with an errande to his Mayster . ¶ Seruaunte . ¶ Mayster there is a Straunger at home He wolde very fayne with you talke : For vntyll that to hym you do come Forth of the doores he wyll not walke . ¶ The Husbande . ¶ Come on then my wyfe , if it be so , Let vs departe hence for a season : For I am not well tyll I do knowe Of that mannes commynge the very reason . ¶ Here they both go out , and their Seruaunt doth tary behind alone . ¶ Seruaunte . ¶ Let them go bothe , and do what they wyll And with communicacion fyll their bealy : For I by Sainct George wyll tary here styll , In all my lyfe I was neuer so werye . I haue this daye fylled so many Pottes With all maner wyne , Ale , and Beere : That I wysshed their bealyes full of Bottes Longe of whom was made suche cheare . What kyndes of meate , both flesshe and fyshe Haue I poore knaue to the table caryed ? From tyme to tyme dysshe after dysshe , My legges from goynge neuer ceased . What runnynge had I for Apples and Nuttes ? What callyng for Biskettes , Cumfettes and Caroweies ? A vengeaunce sayde I , lyght on their guttes That makes me to turne so many wayes . What cryinge was there for Cardes and Dice ? What coystynge , what rufflynge made they within ? I counted them all not greatly wyfe . For my head dyd almost ake with dyn . What bablyng , what ianglynge was in the house ? What quaffyng , what bybbyng with many a Cuppe ? That some laye alonge as dronke as a Mouse Not able so much as their heades to holde vp . What daunsynge , what leapyng , what iumpyng about From benche to benche , and stoole to stoole ? That I wondered their braynes dyd not fall out When they so outragiously playde the foole . What iuglyng was there vpon the boordes ? What thrustyng of knyues throughe many a nose What bearinge of Formes ? what holdinge of Swordes ? And puttynge of Botkyns throughe legge and hose ? Yet for all that they called for dryncke , And sayde that they coulde not playe for drye That many at me dyd nodde and wynke Bycause I shoulde brynge it by and by , How so euer they sported the pot dyd styll walke If that were awaye , then all was lost : For euer anone the Iugge was their talke , They paste not who bare such charge and coste . Therfore let hym looke his Purse be ryght good , That it may discharge all that is spente , Or els it wyll make hys haere growe through his hood There was suche hauocke made at this present , But I am afearde my maister be angrye That I dyd abyde thus longe behynde : Yet for his angre I passe not greatly , His wordes they be but onely wynde , Now that I haue rested so longe in this place Home warde agayne . I wyll bye me apase . ¶ Here the Seruaunte goeth out , and in commeth fyrst the Wyfe , and shortely after the Husbande . ¶ The Wyfe . WHere is my Husbande , was he not here ? I meruayle much whyther he is gone Than I perceyue I am much the nere , But lo● , where he commeth hyther alone . Wot ye what Husband , from daye to daye , With dayntye dysshes , our bodyes haue bene fylled : What meate to morowe nexte shall we assaye ? Wherby we may then be both refresihed . ¶ The Husbande . ¶ Do ye nowe prouyde and gyue a regarve For Victualles hereafter to be preparde ? ¶ The Wyfe . ¶ But that I knowe Husbande , it lyeth vs in hande Of thynges to come to haue a consyderation I would not ones wyll you to vnderstande Aboute such busynes my carefull prouision : It is nedefull therfore to worke we make hast That to get both our lyuynges we may knowe the cast . ¶ The Husbande . ¶ To trouble me nowe , and make me vexed , This mischieuous meane hast thou inuented . ¶ The Wyfe . ¶ What trouble for thee ? what kynde of vexation ? Have I to disquiet thee , caused at this present ? My onely mynde is , thou make expedycion To seke for our profyte as is conuenient . Wherfore to thee I saye ones agayne , Bycause to take paynes thou art so lothe , By Christ it were best , with might and mayne To fall to some worke , I sweare a great othe . ¶ The Husbande . ¶ Yet for a tyme , if it maye thee please Let me be quit , and take myne ease . ¶ The Wyfe .

¶ Wilt thou haue vs then throughe hungre he starued :

¶ The Husbande .

¶ I woulde not we shulde for hungre be kylled .

¶ The Wyfe . ¶ Then I saye then , this geare go about , And looke that thou laboure diligently : Or els thou shalt shortly proue without doubt , Thy sluggysshnes wyll not please me greatly . ¶ The Husbande . ¶ Begynnest thou euen now to be paynefull & greuous And to thy Husbande , a woman so troublous ? ¶ The Wyfe . ¶ What wordes haue we here thou misbegotten , Is there not alredy ynoughe to the spoken ? ¶ The Husbande . ¶ O myrth , O Ioye , O pastyme and pleasure , How lyttell a space , do you endure ? ¶ The Wyfe . ¶ I see my commaundement can take no place , Thou shalt abye therfore , I sweare by the Masse . ¶ Here the Wyfe must stryke her Husbande handesomlye aboute the Shoulders with some thyng . ¶ The Husbande . ¶ Alas good wyfe , good wyfe , alas , alas , Stryke not so harde , I praye thee hartelye , Whatsoeuer thou wylte haue brought to passe It shal be done with all spede possyblye . ¶ The Wyfe . ¶ Laye these Faggottes man vpon thy shoulder And carye thys wood from streete to strete : To sell the same , that we both togyther , Our lyuynge may get , as is most mete . Hence Nidiot hence , without more delaye What meanest thou thus , to stagger and staye ? ¶ The Husbande . ¶ O Lorde what howe myserable men be those Whiche to their wyfes as wretches be wedded And haue them contynually their mort all foes Seruynge them thus , as Slaues that he hyred . Nowe by experience true I do fynde , Whiche oftentymes vnto me heretofore My father dyd saye , declarynge his mynde That in Matrymonie was payne euermore , What shall I do most pityfull Creature ? Iuste cause I haue alas to lament : That franticke woman my death wyll procure If so he this daye without gayne be spent For vnlesse for my wood som Money be taken Lyke a dogge , with a Cudgell I shal be beaten . Ho thou good felowe which standest so nye Of these heauy bundelles ease my sore backe : And somewhat therfore gyue me by and by Or els I dye , for Syluer I do lacke . Nowe that I haue some Monye receyued For this my burden home I wyll go : And lest that my wyfe be discontented , What I haue take , I wyll her showe . Wyfe I am come , I went a longe waye And here is the profyte , and gaynes of this daye . ¶ The Wyfe . ¶ Why thou Lowte , thou foole , thou horson folte , Is this thy wood money , thou peuisshe Dolte ? Thou shalt smart for this geare , I make God a vowe Thou knowest no more to sell wood , then doth the sowe ¶ The Husbande . ¶ By Goddes precious I wyll not vnwysely suffes To do as I haue done , any longer . ¶ The Wyfe . ¶ Why doest thou ryse against me Villayne ? Take hede I scrache not out thy eyes twayne . ¶ The Husbande . ¶ Scratche and thou dare , for I haue a knyfe , Perchaunce I wyll ryd the of thy lyfe . ¶ The Wyfe . ¶ Slaye me with thy knyfe , thou shytten Dastarde ? Doest thou thinke to fynde me suche a Dissarde ? By Coxe bones I wyll make thy skyn to rattell , And the braynes in thy S●ull more depely to sattell . ¶ Here the wyfe must laye on lode vppon her Husbande . ¶ The Husbande . ¶ Good wyfe be content , forgeue my this faulte I wyll neuer agayne do that which is naught . ¶ The Wyfe . ¶ Go to foolysshe Calfe , go to , and vpryse , And put vp thy knyfe , I the aduise . ¶ The Husbande .

¶ I wyll do your commaundementes whatsoeuer .

¶ The Wyfe .

¶ Hence awaye then , and fyll this with water .

¶ The Husbande . O mercyfull God , in what lamentable state Is he , of whom the wyfe is the mayster ? Wolde God I had bene predestinate , On my Maryage daye , to haue dyed wyth a Feuer . O wretched creature , what maye I do ? My grieuous wyfe shall I returne vnto ? Lo wyfe beholde without further delaye The water ye sent for , here I do brynge . ¶ The Wyfe . ¶ What I sayd what meaneth this weepynge ? What ayleth the to make all this cryinge ? ¶ The Husbande .

¶ I weepe not forsothe , not crye not as yet .

¶ The Wyfe . ¶ No , nor thou wilte not , if thou haste any wye , It is not thy weepynge , that can ought auayle , And therfore this matter no longer be wayle . Come of I saye , and runne to the Ryuer And wasshe these clothes in the water . ¶ The Husbande .

¶ Wyfe I wyll thyther hye me faste .

¶ The Wyfe .

¶ Yet I aduyse the , thou Cullyon make hast .

¶ The Husbande . ¶ O howe vnhappye and eke vnfortunate Is the moste parte of maryed mennes condytion ? I woulde to death I had bene agate When my Mother in be arynge me made lamentation . What shall I do whyther shall I turne , Most carefull man nowe vnder the Skye ? In the flamynge fyre , I had rather burne , Then with extreme payne , lyue so heauylye , There is no wyfte , to my wyfe I must go Whom that I dyd wed , I am full●●o . Where are ye wyfe , your clothes are washte cleane Is whyte as a lylly without spot or ueyne . ¶ The Wyfe . ¶ Thou thefe , thou caytyfe , why is not this place , Wasshed as fayre as all the rest , Thou shalt for this geare now smoke apase By gys I sweare , thou brutysshe Beaste . ¶ Here shee must knocke her Husbande . ¶ The Husbande . ¶ Alas , alas , I am almost quyte dead , My wyfe so pytyfully hath broken my head . ¶ Here her Husbande must lye alongs on the grounde as thoughe hee were fore beaten and wounded . ¶ The Wyfe . ¶ Well I perceyue , the ryme wyll awaye And into the Countrey to go I haue promysed Looke therfore thou go not from hence to days Tyll home agayne I am returned . Take hede I saye , this Howse thee retayne , And styrre not for any thynge out of my doore : Vntill that I come hyther agayne , As thou wylte be rewarded therfore . ¶ Here his Wyfe goeth out , and the Husbande taryeth behinde alone . ¶ The Husbande . ¶ The slyinge and fiende go with my wyfe And in her Iourney ill maye she speede : I praye God almighty to shorten her lyfe The earth at no tyme doth beare suche a weede . Althoughe that I be a Gentelman borne And come by my Auncetours of a good blood , Yet am I lyke to weare a Cote torne And hither and thither go catye wood . But rather then I this lyfe wyll abyde To morowe mornynge I do intende , Home to my Father agayne to ryde , If some man to me his Horse wyll lende . She is to her Gossypes gone to make mery , And there she wyll be for three or foure dayes : She cares not thoughe I do nowe miscarye And suffre such payne and sorowe alwayes . She leaueth to me neyther Breade nor drynke But such as I iugde no bodye wolde eate : I myght by the wailes lye dead and stynke For any great holsomnes in my meate . She walketh a brode , and taketh her pleasure Her selfe to cherysshe is all her care : She passeth not what griefs I endure , Or howe I can lyue with noughty fare : And synce it is so , without further delaye To my father to morowe I wyll awaye . ¶ Here he goeth out , and in commeth the Deuyll . ¶ Satan the Deuyll . HO , ho , ho , what a felowe am I ? Geue row me I saye both more and lesse : ⸬ ⸬ My strength and power hence to the Skye No eacthly tonge can well expresse . Oh what inuencious , craftes and wiles , Is there conteyned within this head ? I knowe that he is within fewe myles Which of the same is throughly sped . Oh , it was all my studye daye and nyght Connyngly to brynge this matter to passe : In all the earth , there is no wighte But I can make to crye alas . This man and wyfe , that not longe agoe Fell in this place togyther by the eares : It was onely I that this stryfe dyd sowe And haue bene aboute it certayne yeares . For after that I had taken a small : Of their good wyll and feruent loue , My thought I shulde not tary in hell But vnto debate them shortely moue , Oh it was I that made hym to despyse All wisdome , goodnes , vertue and learnynge That be afterwarde coulde in no wise Ones in his harte fancie teachynge . Oh it was I , that made hym refuse The holsome menytion of his Father dere And caused hym styll of a wyfe to muse As thoughe she shoulde be his ioye and there . Oh it was I , that made hym goe hence , And suppose that his father was verye vnkynde , It was I , that dyd oryue hym to such expence , And made hym as bare , as an ape is behynde . And nowe that I haue this busynes ended And ioyned hym and his wise togyther : I thynke that I haue my part well played , None of you all wolde do it better . Ho , ho , ho , this well fauoured heads of myne What thynge soeuer it hath in hande : Is neuer troubled with Ale or Wyne , Neyther by Sea , nor yet by lande . I tell you I am a meruaylous bodye , As any is at this daye lyuynge : My head doth deuyse eche thynge so trymly , That all men maye wonder of the endynge , Oh I haue such fetches , such toyes in this head Such crafty deuyses and subtyll trayne : That whom so euer of you I do wed , ye are lyke at my handes to take small gayne . There is no gentelman , knyght , or Lorde : There is no Duke , Earle , or kynge : But if I lyst , I can with one worde , Shortly sende vnto their lodgynge . Some I disquiet with Coueitousnes , Some with wrath , pryde and lecherye , And some I do thruste into suche distresse That he feeleth onely payne and myserye . Some I allure to haue theire delyght Alwayes in Glotonye , Enuye and murdre : And those thynges to pracise with all theyr might Either by lande , or els by water . Ho , ho , ho , there is none to be compared , To me I tell you , in any poynte : With a great sorte my selfe I haue tryed , That boldly ventured many a ioynt . And when for a longe tyme we had wrestled And shewed our strength on eyther syde , Yet often tymes a fall they receyued , When throughe my Polycye their feefe dyd slyde . Wherfore ( my dere children ) I warne ye all , Take hede , take hede of my temptation : For commenly at the last ye haue the fall And also brought to Desperacion . Oh it is a forye for many to stryue And thynke of me to get the vpper hande : For vnlesse that God make them to thryue They can not agaynst me sticke or stande . And thoughe that God on hy● haue his domynion And ruleth the worlde euery where : Yet by your leaue , I haue a porcion , Of this same earth that standeth here . The kyngdome of God is aboue in Heauen And myne is I tell you beneth in Hell : But yet a greater place if he had delt euen He shulde haue gyuen me and myne to dwell , For to my Palace of euery Nation Of what degree or birth so euer they be . Come runnynge in with such festination , That other whyles they amased me , Oh all the Iewes , and all the Turkes , Yea and a great parte of Christen dome When they haue done my wyll , and my workes In the ende they flye hither all and some . There is no miunte of the daye There is no minute of the nyghte : But that in my Palace there is alwaye Crowdynge togither a meruaylous sighte , They come on thicker , then swarmes of Bees , And make such a noyse and cryinge out : That many a one lyeth on his knees , With thousandes kept vnder , and closed about Not so much as my parlours , halles , and euery chamber By Porches , my galeryes , and my courte : My entryes , my kytchyn , and my Larder , But with all maner people be fylled throughout . What shall I saye more , I can not tell , But of this ( my chyldren ) I am certayne , There comes more in one houre vnto Hell , Then vnto Heauen , in a moneth or twayne . And yet for all this , my Nature is such That I am not pleased with this company , But out of my kyngdome I must walke muche That one or other I maye take tardye , Ho , ho , ho , I am neuer ones afrayde With these my Clawes you for to touche , For I wyll not leaue tyll you be payde , Suche treasure , as is within my Pouche . The worlde is my Sonne , and I ame his Father And also the flesshe , is a doughter of myne It is I alone , that taught them to gather , Both Golde and Syluer that is so fyne . Wherfore I suppose that they loue me well And my Commaundementes gladly obaye , That at the last then vnto Hell , They maye come all the redy waye . But now ( I knowe ) synce I came hither There is such a multitude at my gate , ¶ That I must agaynt repayre downe thyther After myne olde maner and rate . ¶ Here the Deuyll goeth out , and in commeth the Rychmans Sonne alone . ¶ The Sonne . HOwe glad am I , that my iourney is ended , Which I was about this whole dare ? ⸬ ⸬ My Horse to stande styll I neuer sufferd , Because I woulde come to the ende of my waye , But yet I am sorye that I can not fynde , My louynge Father at home at hys place : That vnto hym I maye breake my mynde , And let hym knowe my myserable case . ¶ Here he confesseth his noughtynes vitring the same with a pitifull voi●● . ¶ I haue ben wylde , I haue ben wanton , I haue euer folowed my fancye and wyll : I haue ben to my Father a frowarde Sonne And from daye to daye contynued styll . I haue alwayes proudlye dysdayned those That in my madnes gaue me good counsell I counted them most my mortall foes , And stowtely agaynst them dyd rebell . The thynge that was good , I greatly hated As one which lacked both wytte and reason , The thyng that was euyll I euer loued Which now I see is my confusyon . I coulde not abyde of the Schole to heare Maysters and teachers my harte abborred , We thought the Booke was not fyt geare , For my tendeer fyngers to haue handled , I counted it a pleasure to be daintely fed And to be clothed to costly artaye : I woulde most commonly slugge in my bed , Vntyll it were verye farre forth daye . And to be shorte , anone after this , Ther came such fansies in my brayne : That to haue a wyfe whom I might kysse I rekened to be the greatest gaine . But yet alas I was quyte deceyued The thynge it selfe doth easely appeare : I woulde alas I had ben buryeb , When to my Father , I gaue not eare . That which I had , I haue cleane spent , And kept so much ryot with the same : That now I am fayne , a Cote that is rent At as to weare for verye shame . I haue not a crosse lefte in my purse , To helpe my selfe nowe in my nede : That well I am worthye of Goddes curse , And of my Father to haue small mede . THere the Ryche man must be as it were commynge in . But excepte m●●e eyes do we beguyle , That man is my Father , whom I do see : And now that he comes , without crafte or wyle , To hym I will hende on eyther knee . Ah Father , Father , my Father most dere , ¶ The father .

¶ Ah myne owne chylde , with the what there ?

¶ The Sone . ¶ All such sayinges as in my mynde , At the fyrst tyme ye studied to sattell , Most true alas , I do them fynde , As thoughe they were written in the Gospell . ¶ The Father . ¶ Those wordes my Sonne , I haue almost forgotten , Stande vp therfore , and kneele no longer : And what it was I spake so often , At two or there wordes , recyte to thy Father . ¶ The Sonne . ¶ If that ye be Father well remembred As the same I beleue ye can not forget : You sayde that so soone as I were maryed , Much payne and trouble therby I shoulde get . ¶ The Father .

¶ Haste thou by proofe soone , this thynge tryed ?

¶ The Sonne . ¶ Yea , alas to much I haue experyenced : My wife , I dyd wed , all full of frensye , My selye poore shoulders , hath now so broused , That lyke to a Creple , I mone me weakly , Beynge full often with the staffe thwacked : She spareth no more my flesshe and bone , Than if my bodye were made of Stone , Her wyll , her mynde , and her Commaundement , From that daye hyther , I haue fulfylled : Which if I dyd not , I was bytterly shent , And with many strokes greuous punysshed : That woulde God the houre when I was maryed , In the midste of the Church I might haue fynked . I thynke ther is no man vnder the Sonne That here on the earth beareth lyfe : Which wolde do such drudgerye , as I haue done , At the vnkynde wordes of suche a wyfe , For howe I was vsed , and in what wyse A daye to declare wyll not suffyse . Yf this be not true , as I haue spoken To my good neyghbours I me reporte , Who ether whyles when I was smytten My wyfe to be gentle , dyd then exhorte : For glad I was to abyde all laboure Wherby the lesse might be my doloure . Wherfore good Father I you humblye desyre To haue pitye of me and some compassion ? Or els I am lyke to lye fast in the myre , Without any succoure or consolation : For at this houre I haue not a peny , My selfe to helpe in this great myserye . ¶ The Father . ¶ For so muche as by my aduyse and counsell In no maner wyse thou woldest be ruled : Therfore to the I can not do well , But let the styll suffre , as thou haste deserued For that thou hast suffred , is yet nothynge To that trybulation which is behinde commynge . ¶ The Sonne . ¶ Alas Father , what shall I do ? My wyttes of them selues can not deuyse , What thynge I were best to goe vnto , Wherof an honest lyuynge maye aryse : Wherfore gentle Father in this distresse , Somewhat aswage myne heuynes . ¶ The Father . ¶ What shoulde I do I can not tell , For now that thou hast taken a wyfe With me thy father thou mayst not dwell , But alwayes with her spende thy lyfe . Thou mayst not agayne thy wyfe forsake , Which durynge lyfe to the thou dydst take . ¶ The Sonne . ¶ Alas I am not able thus to endure Thoughe therunto I were neuer so wyllynge : For my wyfe is of such a crooked nature As no woman els , is this daye lyuynge , And if the verye trueth I shall confesse She is to me an euyll that is endlesse . ¶ The Father . ¶ If that thou thinkest thy selfe alone Onely to leade this yrkesome lyfe . Thou maiest learne what griefe , sorowe and mone , Socrates had with Xantippa his wyfe . Her Husbande full ofte she tawnted and checked And as the Booke saythe vnhonestly mocked . ¶ The Sonne . ¶ I can not tell , what was Socrates wyfe But myne I do knowe alas to well , She is one that is euermore full of stryfe And of all Scolders beareth the Bell. When she speaketh best , then brawleth her tonge When she is styll she fyghteth apace : She is an olde Witch thoughe she be yonge , No mirth with her , no ioye or solace . ¶ The Father . ¶ I can not my Sonne thy state redresse , Me thy Father thou dydst refuse : Wherfore now helpe thy owne , And of thy wyfe no longer muse . ¶ The Sonne . ¶ My wyfe went foorth no to the Countrey With certayne Gossyppes to make good chere , And bad me at home styll to be , That at her returne , she might fynde me there : And if that she do take me from home , My bones alas shee wyll make to crackell : And me her Husbande as a starke mome , With knockyng and mockynge she wyll handell . And therfore if I maye not here remayne , Yet louynge Father , geue me your rewarde , That I may with speede ride haue againe , That to my wyfes wordes , haue some regarde . ¶ The Father . ¶ If that at the fyrst thou woldest haue bene ordered . And done as thy Father counsayled the : So wretched a lyfe had neuer chaunced Wherof at this present thou complaynest to me . But yet come on , to my house wee wyll be goynge And ther thou shalt see , what I wyll gyue : A lytell to helpe thy nedye lyuynge : Synce that in such penurye thou doest lyue , And that once done , thou must hence agayne For I am not he , that wyll the retayne . ¶ Here the Ryche man and his Sonne go out , and in commeth the Peroratour . ¶ The Peroratour . THis Interlude here good gentle audience , Which presently before you we haue played : ⸬ ⸬ Was set foorth with such care and diligence , As by vs truely myght well be shewed . Shorte it is I denye not , and full of breuitie But if ye marke therof the matter , Then choose ye can not , but see playnely How payne and pleasure be knyt togyther . By this lytell playe , the Father is taught , After what maner his Chylde to vse : Least that throughe cockerynge at length he be brought His Fathers Commaundement to refuse , Here ye maye learne a wyttie lesson , Betymes to correcte his Sonne beynge tender : And not let hym be lost and vndone , With wantonnes of mischiefe the Mother , For as longe as the twygge is gentell and plyent ( Euery man knoweth this by experience : ) With small force and strength it maye be bent Puttynge therto but lytell dylygence . But after that it waxeth somewhat digger And to east his braunches largely begynneth , It is scant the myght of all thy power , That one kowghe therof ▪ easely bendeth , This twygge to a chylde maye well be applyed Which in his childehoode , and age of Infancie : With small correction maye be amended , Emoracynge the Schole with harte and bodie . Who afterwarde with ouer much lybertye , And rangynge abrobe with the Brydell of wyll . Despyseth all vertue , searnyuge and honestys , And also his Fathers mynde to fullfyll . Wherby at the length it so falleth out That this the yonge Stryplynge after that daye : Runnes into confusyon without any doubte And lyke for euermore quyte to decaye . Wherfore take hede all ye that be parentes And solowe a parte after my counsell , Instructe your Chyldren and make them studentes That vnto all goodnes they do not rebell Remember what writeth Salomon the wyse , Oui parcit Virgae , odith filium . ¶ Therfore for asmuche as ye can deuyse Spare not the Rodde , but folowe wisdome . Further ye yonge men and Chyldren also Lysten to me and harken a whyle , What in fewe wordes for you I wyll showe , Without any slatterye , fraude , or guyle . This Richemans Sonne whome we dyd set foorth , Here euidently before your eyes : Was ( as it chaunced ) nothinge worth , Gyuen to all noughtynes , vyce , and lyes . The cause wherof was this for a trueth His tyme full idlely he dyd spende , And woulde not studye in his youth , Which might haue brought him to a good ende . His fathers commaundement he wolde not obaye , But wantouly folowed his fantasye : For nothynge that he coulde do or saye , Woulde brynge this Chylde to honestie . And at the last ( as here ye myght see : ) Upon a wyfe he fired his mynde , Thynkynge the same to be felicitie , When in dede myserye came bebynde . For by this wyfe be carefully lyued , Who vnder his Father did want nothinge : And in suche sorte was hereby tormented That euer a none , he went lamentynge . His Father dyd wyll him lyghtnes to leaue And onely to gyue him selfe vnto studye : But yet vnto vertue he would dot cleaue , Which is commodious for soule and bodye . You hearde that by Sentences auncient and olde He styrred his Sonne as he best thought : But he as an vnthryfe stowte and bolde , His bolsome counsell dyd set at nought . And synce that he despysed his Father God vnto hym dyd sodeynly then sende : Such pouertie with a wyfe , and griefe togyther That shame and sorowe was his ende . Wherfore to conclude , I warne you all By your louynge parentes , alwayes be ruled : Or els be well assured of suche a fall ? As vnto this yongman worthely channced . Worshyp God dayly whiche is the chiefe thynge And his holy lawes do not offende : Looke that ye truely serue the kynge , And all your faultes be glad to amende . Moreouer , be true of hande and tonge , And learne to do all thynges that be honest , For no tyme so fytte , as when ye be yonge , Because that age onely is the aptest . I haue no more , to speake at this season , F●●●●●ye good wyll these thynges I dyd saye . Bycause I do see that vertue is geason , With most men and chyldren , at this daye . ¶ Here the rest of the Players come in and kneels downe all togyther , eche of them sayinge one of these Verses . And last of all , to make an ende , O God to the we most humblye praye : That to Queene Elizabeth thou do sende Thy lyuely pathe , and perfecte waye , Graunte her in health to raygne . With vs many yeares most prosperoustye : And after this lyfe for to attayne , The eternall blysse , Ioye , and felycytie . Our Bysshoppes , pastoures , and Mynisters also The true vnderstandynge of thy worde , Both nyght and daye , nowe mercyfully showe , That their lyfe and preachynge maye godly accorde , The Lordes of the Counsell , and the Nobylytie , Most heauenly Father , we thee desyre : With grace , wisdome , and godly polycie , Their hartes and myndes , alwayes inspyre . And that we thy people duelye consyderynge The power of our Queene and great auctorytie , Maye please thee and serue her without faynynge , Lyuynge in peace , rest , and tranquilytie . ¶ God saue the Queene .