The castell of courtesie whereunto is adioyned the holde of humilitie: with the chariot of chastitie thereunto annexed. Also a dialogue betwéene age and youth, and other matters herein conteined. By Iames Yates seruingman. 1582.

A caueat conuenient for younkers to see: How fickle Dame Fancie, doth chaung her degree,

DRaw neere you Impes of youthfull race, respect my wordes a while: Beware in Time, turne from that place, where Fancie most doth smile. Let not the shew of smyling lookes, encourage ••••ee to lust: Least thou be tooke, with poysoned hookes where most thou put'st thy Trust. Dost thou not see, it is not race, to vse deceiptfull wayes: For if thou rightly wilt compare, and marke well the delayes, Then shalt thou finde such craftie vaine, such soothing voyd of truth: As puts each honest heart to paine, and turnes their mirth to ruth. The modest mind which markes the lore, and state of this our time: Doth inwardly in hearte deplore, to construe of each crune, Committed thorow follie fond, The mother of Debate: Which makes no acompt to keepe the bond, of Truth, or trustie state. Yet marke how foolish wanton Will, by Fancie brought a sleepe, Will seeme to playe the noddey still. in daunger more to creepe: When as by proofe sufficient, it plainely doth appeare, How Lewdenesle leanes to theire intent, and it some will not heare. Though in their eares it sounded be,

eke each day in their sight: They blynded are they can not see, and why then shall I write? For sooth because they senslesse seeme being lulled so in lust, And yet they Prudently esteeme the factes of some vniust: And in theire heart do sacrifice, profoundly and deuout, As though in deede that might suffise, to bring their fetch about. Alas, a lack, I mourne, I waile, I sigh, I sob to see: That foolish fancie should preuaile, to winne the chiefe degree: In mortall mindes which are but clay. and flesh the wormes to feede, And like a shadow doth decay most true it is in deede. Then ere thy breath be spent and past, reuoke thy childish toyes: And giue thou ouer yet at last, that most was once thy ioyes. For why? fond Will thou canst not haue, that solely to thy selfe: When others may in time it craue as gayned with their pelse. Thou art of yeares to knew, this well, The Hauke whose gorge is full, Takes more delight to shake her bell, then on the lure to pull: Euen so conceyue this in thy thought. for why? thou maiest it see: The newest things are soonest bought, and are still wo•••• to be. Then thus consider in thy minde,

Where thou thy fancie frames: Giue leaue let Nature showe hee kinde, but publish out no names. For Nature she, can not digresse, I speake not this to faine, But euen the truth for to expresse, to those who to that vaine, Doe seeme so much for to apply, their studie in their hearte: God graunte in fine such do not trie, a close vnhidden smart. And thus adue, I leaue this verse, to scanned be of some: Which often times do wordes rehearse, when as they might be name.