A floorish vpon fancie As gallant a glose vpon so triflinge a text, as euer was written. Compiled by N.B. Gent. To which are annexed, manie pretie pamphlets, for pleasant heads to passe away idle time withal. By the same authour.

THE SCHOOLE of Fancie.

ME thinkes I sée you smile, before you gin to réede, At this same title of my tale: but, for you shall not néede To maruaile at the same. First read it to the ende, And marke yee stil through all y^e tale, wherto eche point doth tende, And you shall sée I hope, that this same title serues Fit for the tale, els sure my minde from reason greatly swerues. Who is expert in any Art doth beare a Maisters name: Then hée who chéefe is in an Art, doth well deserue the same. Of Art of luckles loue, first Fancy is the ground, Although that Cupid, with his dart, doo giue the deadly wounde. First, Fancy liking bréeds, and liking bréedeth loue, And loue then bréeds, such passing panges, as many louers prooue: And when the troubled minde, with torments is opprest, Fancy doth finde some secret meane, to bréede the hart some rest: And Fancy shée sometime to breed the louers ioy, A thousand sundry waies (at least) doth still her paines imploy: She thinkes on this and that, shée teacheth how to loue, And tels the Louer, what to doo, as best for his behooue. But least I go to far and run to mutch at large Out of the way and take no care what thing I haue in charge, I will begin to show, what kinde of Schoole this is, What orders too shée kéepes therin. First lo, the Schoole is this. The roome both large and long, and very darke of sight, The most sight that her Schollers haue, is chiefly by fier light: Which fier doth burne so bright, as giues them light to see To read such books, as there are taught: but what this fier may bée Now therby lies a case. Well marke what I doo wright, And you shall know, for I my selfe, haue séene it burning bright.

First Fancie fetcheth coales, and calles for Deepe desire: By him shée setteth Vaine delight and biddes them blowe the fire: And when the fire once burnes, for to maintaine thesame, The Colier Care, hee brings in coales vnto this dainty dame. Hee makes his Coales of wood, that growes on Hare braine hill, The ••roue is cald, the Thriftles thicke of wilde and wanton will: The wood is of small groth, but stickes of Stubborne youth, Which serues as fittest for that fier, god wot, the greater ruth: Lo thus, this fire doth burne, and still doth giue the light To Fancies schollers in her schoole, they haue none other sight. Now Sir, in this hot schoole, first Fancie highest sittes, And out of all her schollers still, shée takes the wildest wittes. And those shee takes in hand, to teach the Art of loue, which being taught in that vayn Art, do soone fine schollers proue. Shée teatheth them to mourne, to flatter and to faine, To speake, to write, and to indight, to labor and take paine: To go, to run and ride, to muse, and to deuise, To iuggle with a déerest freend, to bleare the parents eyes. To spend both landes and goods, to venter Lim and life, To make foes frends, and twixt dere frends, to set debate & strife: To doo and vndoo too, so that they may obtaine Their mistresse loue: and neuer care, for taking any paine. To iet in braue attire, to please their mistris eye: Although perhaps they vtterly, vndoe themselues therby. To learne to sing and daunce, to play on Instruments, To speake choyce of straunge languages, to try experiments Straunge, seldome had in vse: in fine, to tell you plaine, To doo almost they care not what, there ladies loue to gaine. And thus in tracte of time, by sutch instructions, Shee makes them tread, the perfect path to their distructions: Some other schollers now, are taught within her schoole By Vsshers that teach vnder her, of which one is a foole By nature and by name, for Follie men him call: And hee will teach his scholler soone, to proue a naturall. The second Frenzie is, in teaching too as bad, For hee will teach, his schollers most the way to make them mad:

The Vssher follie first, hee teacheth to be bould, Without aduice to giue no eare, to counsaile that is tould To take delight in gauds, and foolish trifling toies, In things of value, litle worth, to set his chiefest ioyes. To prate without regard, of reason in his talke, To think blacke white, & wrong for right, & know not chéese from chalke To loue the things in deede, which most hee ought to hate: For triflyng toyes, with deerest freends, to fall at dire debate. To loue to play at dice, to sweare his blood and hart, To face it with a ruffins looke and set his hat a thwart. To haunt the Tauerns late, by night to trace the streetes, And swap ech slut, vpon the lippes, that in the darke hee meetes: To laughe at a horse nest, and whine too like a boy, If any thing do crosse his minde, though it be but a toy: To slauer like a slaue, to lye too like a dog, To wallow almost like a Beare, and snortle like a Hog. To féede too like a Horse, to drinke too like an Oxe, To shew himselfe in eche respecte a very very coxe. But sutch a scholler now, is chosen of grose wit, Because that Beetle heddes do serue for such instructions fit. The other Usher now, that Frenzie hath to name, His kinde of teaching, hée againe another way doth frame: Hée teacheth how to rage, to sweare and ban and curse, To fret, to fume, to chide, to chafe, to doo all this and worse. To teare his flesh for griefe, to fill the aire with cries, To harbor hatred in his hart, and mischefe to deuise: To hate all good aduice, to follow witles will, And in the ende for want of grace, to seeke himselfe to kill. And sutch his schollers are, ripe wits, but wanting grace, And sutch vngracious graffes, doo learne, sutch gracelesse geare a pace: These schollers all are young, except that now and than, To be a scholler with the rest, there step in som ould man. Who when that hée a while, hath bin in Fancies schoole, Doth learne, in his olde crooked age, to play the doting foole. And sutch there are sometime, (more pittie) for to see, That in their crooked doting age, would faine fine louers bee.

Which béeing in that schoole, doo prooue, for all their paine, By Frenzy mad, by Folly fooles, or els by Fancy vaine. My selfe can tell too well, for I haue séene the schoole, And learned so long there till I prou'd more halfe a very foole. First Fancy dandled mée, and held mée in her lap: And now and then, shée would mée féede, with worldly pleasures pap. Shée tould mee I was young, and I my youth must spend In youthful sporte, I did not know, how soone my life would end: Be merry while I mought, set carke and care aside, How mad were hée that mought in blisse, and would in bale abide? Such sugred speach of hers had soone intrapt mee so, That I did thinke, that did mée good, that wrought (in déed) my wo: Remayning thus a while, at last I had an eye, To see how Folly taught his Youthes, and some rules by and by My selfe began to learne: First this, for to be bould, And to refuse to lend my eare, where good aduise was tould. In foolish trifling toyes to take a great delight: To take in hand to prate of that, wherin I had no sight. These rules I soone had learnd, but when I came to that, Where Ruffins card & dice, and sweare, and ware aside their hat I read no farther then, but vp againe I went, Unto my mistris Fancie fine: and straight downe shee mee sent Unto the nether ende of all her schoole below, Where Frenzy sat: and sweting hard, hee gan to puffe and blow. He litle likte my minde, yet would I ye or no, I learnd some of his raging rules, er I away did go: I learnd to fret and fume, though not to ban and curse, And oft for griefe to sigh and sob and many times doo worse, But yet I thanke my god I neuer had the will: In greatest franticke fit I felt, to seeke my selfe to kill. But to make short my tale, his lessons likte me not, But vp agayn in haste I went, to Fancie fond, god wot. And lying in her lap, I fell a slepe anon, Where slepinge so I dreamed sore that I was wo begon: ¶ Me thought that Wisdome came, and warned mee in hast, To loth sutch lessons, as I learnd, er that my youth were past.

For short should be my sweete, and time would passe away: The man is in his graue tooday, that liued yesterday: Thy life ({quod} hee) poore soule is like vnto a flower, That groweth but in daunger still of cropping euery hower. And if it be not cropt, yet soone it will decay And like the flower in litle time, it wither will away. Thy pleasures wilbe paine, thy game will turne to greefe, And thou wilt seke in vaine to late, when y^• woldest finde releefe: Arise thou sluggish slaue, out of that lothsome lap And be no longer like a babe, so fed with pleasures pap. Lose no more labor so, in sutch a witles schoole where as the best that thou canst gaine, is but to proue a foole. Study some better Art, for lo thy wits will serue To learne to doo, that may in time, a good reward deserue: Better then best degree, that thou art like to take In Fancies schoole: I tell thée plaine, therfore I say awake, Awake in haste awake, and hie thee hence I say, Take warning in good time poore soule, for time will sone away: But since that with sutch Youthes, words seldome will preuaile, With this same rod thou foolish boy I meane to breech thy tayle. With which (me thought) hee gaue a ierke, that made mee smart: Which soden smart, although but small, yet made me giue a start: And in my starting so, I waked sodenly, And so awakte, I cald to minde my vision by and by. Thus thinking on my dreame I heauy grew in minde, Which by and by when Fancie fond, gan by my countenance finde How now my youth (quoth shee) what ailes thee seeme so sad? What canst thou thinke to cheare thy mind but that it shalbe had? No no (quoth I) I not beleue these words of thine. thou sausy slaue (quoth she) darest y^u mistrust these words of mine? And therwith in a rage, shee threw me from her lap, And with the fall beshrew her hart, I caught a cruell clap: Wherwith sumthing displeasd, why fine mistris (quoth I) What can you bide no iest? alas, and therwith angerly: Without or taking leaue, or any duty done, From Fanci•• in a rage I flong and out of dores I ronne.

And béeing out of dore, these words me thought I sayd, Fie on the Fancie flattering flirt, I holde me well apaide: That I am got away, out of thy skillesse schoole, For now I see, thou wentest about, to make mee a right foole. But now that I am out, by grace of god I sweare, While I doo liue, if I can choose, neuer more to come there. But Fancie hering this to make mee still to stay, To fetch mée in with pleasaunt sportes inuented many a way But when I did perceiue how nere mée still shée came, Then from her quite I flong in hast, and so I left this dame. Lo thus I tell you how, I came from Fancies schoole, Where learning but a litle while, I prou'd more halfe a foole: Wherfore since my good hap, hath bin to come from thence, Although with labor lost, in déede, and some, to mutch expence. I now haue thought it good, to warne eche one my fréend, To keep themselues from Fancies schoole, and so I make an ende.

FINIS.