Churchyards challenge

TO THE RIGHT WORSHIP∣full, my Ladie Brocket, wife to Sir Iohn Brocket knight, one of the Lieutenants of Hart∣ford Shire.

A Promise made to the good Ladie you Sister, who died in the Towre (good Madā) cōmands me to shape somwhat of good will & labour of pen, to present your La, withall, & for that I can not long liue in this world & must needs take leaue ther¦of sooner than I looke for. I haue found out an old farewell that maie breed some new consideration, and

such a running and rouing rime it is (I hope without of∣fence) as rather shall procure laughter than lowring, it is enterlarded with conceits, and mixed with familiar termes, shortlie knit vp, and without all curious circum∣stances▪ as briefe to the Reader, as vntedious to the wri∣ter, hauing passed the censure of the world thirtie yeares agoe, and is now put in print againe for a passing of the time, and a farewell to the world. So hoping your La▪ receiues it in good part, the matter beginneth I trust to your content and good likeing.

FINIS.

A FAREVVELL VVHEN I VVENT to studie, written to the VVorld.

FArewell thou world, that me betrayde so long, Too dearly bought, I find thy follies all: Who shall thée serue, is sure to suffer wronge: Who scornes thy haps, may shun thy sodaine fall Who fauwnes on thee, shall drinke thy bitter gall: Who flies thy toyes, thy painted face shall finde, Who sooner slides, than those which at thy call, Liues like thy slaues, in bodie, soule, and minde. First from a child, with fancies was I fedd, All at thy handes▪ till I to manhoode grue: Than in the darke, loe blindfeld was I led So that my God, my selfe, nor man I knew,

Wild wit, young blood, olde vice, new bred in bones, Made mee forget, my dutie all at once. Faire thinges, foule thoughts, fond workes & flattring ease, Had muffled mee, and hoodwinckt so my wits That in the stormes, I drade no Sillas seas, Nor in the calmes I fearde no frowarde fits UUhich were to come: thinges present pleasde me best Those gone I made no mirror to the rest. Bed soft, full mouth, gay backe and foolish fame, Was all I sought, like Lord to liue at lust At my nown shape, and shadowe had I game, A looking glasse, a plaifféer trim at trust To prie vppon, my life thus did I frame Cleane out of tune, I sée it now full well So that my life, was carelesse eury dell, Yet founde I haue, a heape of other harmes Therereby: what then, I cannot them amende, When deade they seeme, than spring they vp by swarmes▪ Such mischiefe ript, will haue a rotten ende Though at the full, the tide of them is now, The Ebbe may come, when God a time shall send, Leaue that to him, and I shall tell you how, I learnde to know, the kind and course of man, His nature new, his fashion halfe disguisde, And how for shame, at length loe I beganne To follow that, which I afore despisde. Full welcome ought, that learning bee to mée Which taught me wit, when wildnes weaude the loeme Of wanton wayes, and blindnesse ganne to see The path hee mist, the waie that led me home Unto the Port, where I would harboured bee. And rather dwell, with quiet setled minde, Then roue abroade, to seeke vncertaine lucke, Or subiect bee, to filthy worldly mucke. I would not sure, be bound to suhc a clogge,

That would mee rob, of reason and good skill And in the ende, but fish and catch a frogge, As some haue done, and some doe vse it still, Which snatch the bone, before the hungrie dogg•• UUho will not parte, from that hee hath in hold•• Althoug in deede, his mayster would it haue: Unto this ende, this tale now I haue tolde, To shew him wise, that knoweth what to craue. And askes of those, that freely giues for nought, But hee most wise, that hath no greedie thought. And can content, him with those little scraps, That fals by lot, vnto him for his share, And findes no fault, at others wordly haps, But hath a head, as free from inward care. As babe new borne, yea such a one may smile, And laugh his fill, where some cries woe the pye: Hee shall see much, that hath a simple eye: That man shall sée, the stronge the weake beguile, The poore by ritch, and mightie swallowed vp, The harmelesse drinke, out of the poisoned cup. The needy lacke, that greedy raueners gripe, The theeues let goe, that robbes in veluet weedes: And sits on bench, when truth feeles many a stripe. How feare is dubd, a knight for simple dedes, How manhood begges, and none are helpt that néed•• How créepe in holes, that did no hurt at all, Are valiaunt cald, such are the peoples brute: The quiet man, these thinges beholde he shall, And see them passe, and learne thereby some fruite. As I haue done, though farre from quiet minde, In any case, my selfe God wot I finde. Saue that to toyle, and burthens for to beare, I framed am, and lettes the world alone: Amid my foes, that fawnes and speaks full feare. I liue aloufe, and will not bee aknowne.

There hate I haue, I must dissemble there, As doth those mates, which play at fortunes ball: Do not some halt, that well may goe vpright: Who can denie, but wee dissemble all In some one point, and wisdome wee it call Thinges are not found, as they doe seeme to sight. Some laugh in heart, yet shewe a weeping eye, You haue hard say, the blinde eates manie a flie. How should the sad, with wantons mirth agree, The whole with sicke, the wise with foolish dwell: The proud with meeke, the meane with mightie bee If all these sortes, could not dissemble well. And euen so, it fareth nowe by mee I wincke at thinges, that I would not be holde. And see those fall, that profits mee no whit, I heare likewise, that I can wish vntold: I shoote with them, that neuer marke may hit: But mee beléeue, yet winne the game I would. Among that sort, that giuet ayme to sit. I like not sure: I rather wish to bet Then looke vppon, and lay on nere a sled. Set doubts a part, it is good sport to get. But he that winnes, must hazard néedes abide, (I leaue you there) I would so make my game, It were halfe won, before the match were tride, And make him thinke, that hits the marke is wide. And say himselfe, he roueth out of frame, I pray you now, who would not doe the same, To gaine thereby, or else at least to saue, Then graunt me this, dissemble sure ye must, As I may doe, or in time past I haue. And made some blinde, that better saw then I. And saw full oft, that I would not perceiue, When that thereon, did life or daunger lie: And yet I lookt, and l••er••d by your leaue,

What might befall, and sought to shun the shock••. And as I fled, ill fortune followed fast, When shée should strike, I scaped many a knocke, By donking downe, I knew so well her cast, With cap and knée, her fauour soone I wan. So in a while, shee tooke me as her man. But when I thought, most hold of her to take, Away shée went, the whirle winde in her taile. Yet with her friends, faire weather did I make. Whose helpe was good, when world began to faile. And if you aske, how I acquainted was, With such sure props, that holdes vp house and all, And how that I, could bring such things to passe. To keepe me vp, when diuerse sought my fall. (His fall not great, it cannot be I trow, Whose climing vp, was neuer much you know) This by the way, I speake yet aunswere loe, To you I make, that this demaunds of me, To court I came, where I could heare and sée, As others did, and with the strong I stood, As world did wag, I wound my barke about. And leand me there, where I could finde most good, In deede this was, the way to beare it out, And there I found, of euery sort inow: Would I be braue, I knew where mates were had, Would I be stoute, I saw who will not bow, Hie lookes was he, that still I saw goe throw, That ship made way, that all the sailes could beare. Small sprite sate low, with finger in his eare, Great curchy crept, full hie among the best. He made them laugh, that lookt as he would sweare, He carried coales, that could abide no gest. Plaine life the lout, was little set by there, Fine t••unting tongues, brought many a foole in fear Make loue the méeke, was ready at a call.

Faine would be séene, was fisking euery were, Set foorth to sale, was markt beyond them all. Uaine glorie smilde, and lookt for much adoe, New-fanglenesse, shakt off old friendship past, Fine fall at foote, could whine and bite you toe, Proud blind conceit, would not bée placed last. Small wit would laugh, at wiser than him selfe, Disdaine that dwarft, lookt like a péeuish elfe. Straunge nature fround, when homely folkes sate downe, Full purse found friendes, that came to late to towne. Set by himselfe, would not salute but sewe: Small worth made boast, still mouth was all the shrewe. Tell all that blab, was calde a royster than, False semblaunce thriude, that could two faces beare. Happie was hee, that was a turnecoates man, They sped not worst, that counterfayted weare, Do as world did, draue off the longest time: He had the landes, that was Dicke shifters eare, He caught the birdes, that best could set the lime, Yet broken shinnes, some gate that vsde to clyme. Spite spurnde at those, that better sped than hée, All busie heades, could not on shoulders bide: They met full oft, that seldome could agrée, Who fell so soone, as wit orematch with pride? Who rose but such, as ruffled foorth their yeares, Yet change of sutes, brought many in the bryers. White plummes cost pence, apparell pickt the purse All worne in Court, was not in Citie payde, Sharpe set, said oft, backe cloutes made belly worse. Bare cloake he ware, whose credite was decayed, Catch nought poore knaue, could Court and Courtiers curse, Spend all s••te still, and looked like a maide, Hope well made spoyle, and waighted for a day, Unthrift would sweare, and dice it all away. Tosse blade would snuffe, and shake a swinish heade,

Dare do lookt bigge, as butcher in his shop: Saue-grote smeld out; where hunger may be sped, Proude would not speake, that sate not at the top. When lurch was out, some knew not where to dine, Who kéepes the barre, was asked euery houre, Some speake full faire, to get a cup of wine, God saue yée sir, will please you take a flower. A swéete red Rose, hée had that kept good chéere: And many a cap, and courchy to the grounde, An officer still, was made of all the yeare, Old stagers knew, where such a friend was founde. Young frie might fast, for any thing they gate, New commers walkt, abroad for taking colde: Full paunch did martch, as hee had béene a state, Who lookes like me, thought he that chippings solde UUhen Christmas roobes, were brusht & that day worne, Well was that man, might bid that sainct good morne. Beare rule stood stiffe, and kept his betters out, Boldface thrust in, throw thickest prease and throng, Hoffe haue at all, full hie could hold the snout, Speake as hée thought, was not in fauour long, Find fault the soole, would flyer in each mans face, Rich rulde the rost, lacke friends felt all the wrong, Bare life knew not, to whom to shew his case, Wast all the wield, might sing a heauy song. Hoyst vp in ha••••, forget from whence hee came Hie office scornde, to looke backe how hee clymde, Hogge Norton br••d, disdaine to know their dame, Pride scarde no fall, till foote full fast was lymde, Snatch scratched all, and giue his fellows none, Neede lickt the plates, and gnawed bare the bone, Mounch present crept, in corners all alone▪ Hau••cke was made, where meat was little séene: Unworthy of bread, fardewell God saue the Queene. Spoyle would not spare, his charges was but small,

Make feast fild in, the King did paie for all. Seeke helpe, spake faire, yet sloly sped his sute, Giue bribes was heard, his money tould his tale, Lacke nought had more, but want could find no fruite Neede blew his nailes, and looked verie stale. Skill for a shifte, was glad to teach for pence, Old hangers on, would not be beaten thence. Wit did inuent, but wealth bare all the brute: Boldnesse did speake, when bashnes was full mute. Cunning wrought much, but craft beyond him crept, Poets made rimes, but roysters praises rept, Wisedome would waite, on many a woodcock oft, Old broomes were good, but new all cleane they swept, Loue ease sate long, and lookt to lie full softe. Eate much would boast, he serud our suffrant long, Fat browes Knightes, I tell you tooke great payne, Some went full gaie, that was not worth a thong. Some threw at all, and nicked euery mayne. Hée talkt of warres, that had small wit in peace, Scarse knew himselfe, would common wealthes debate: He spake great thinges, that swelted in his greace. Witlesse wel di••de, would be a Lordes checke mate, Loe croucht vnto, a sore Discourse would make, Make roume my friends (quoth he) that kept the gate Craft had a care, to all hee did or spake, Unwelcome guestes, stept in and a••t no leaue, Some pleasde the prince, yet had the peoples hate. Some serude them both, and did them both deceiue. He neare sate still, that courried fauor well: Some playde the foxe, that like a goose could looke, Some askd what newes, and yet could wonders tell, Small mind of God, would often beare a booke, He went to masse, that would the Challice sell, Some loude the Church, for the swéete relickes there Some made of saincts, brought vp another where:

Some neyther sainct, nor Deuill fearde at all, Some like this world, more than the world to come: Some in their ruffe, would iet about the hall, Some spent such nights, they dread no day of dome, Some watch their time, and yet their time they lost, Some banquets made, and weare banckrout at last: Some learnde to bee, fine Courtiers to their cost. Some had small helpe, and yet spent all full fast. Some sought to spend, vppon anothers charge, Some carelesse liude, and walkt abroad at large, Some craude apace, and caught some crummes by craft, Some could not aske, they thought desarts should craue, Some made faire sale, of blades louse in the haft. Some neuer wanne, nor could deuise to saue. Some wayted hard, but gate small fruite therefore, Some had ill happe, and yet no vertue lackt: Some saude odde endes, and made of little more, Some had their bagges, as full as could bée thwakt. Some made colde mirth, yet fauoured for such vice, Who Fortune liket, was euer most in price. All this in Court, I saw of them good store F••ll twentie yeares, as trial good I haue, Not of Court now, as Court hath béene of yore, I write, I speake, and treat so God mee saue. To show wherefore, from thence I mee withdrew, What harme it did, vnto my betters farre. What good likewise, hee gate that Court well knew, How some did make, and some therein did marre. But to bee playne, where I such chaunges founde, I list not dwell, let them that will bee bounde To that short rayne, I choose the quiet soyle The Countrey large, to haue free scope to walke, To bee in Court, I count it but a toyle. Where harte much thinkes, and tongue dare little talke. Where some must site, and looke vppon the walles:

And beat their héeles, against formsides all day, And subiects are, to others becks and cals, That life is weake, wherein their is no stay, A péece of bread, is better had with eas. Then bankets swéete, vppon such bitter bordes Some say there is, no fishing to the Seas, Yet many Troutes, are caught on little fordes, That shallow séeme, with other pretty fishe. That at the length, will make an honest dishe, On little brookes, men angle safe and dry. In leather bootes, and dread no drowning there, On these rough Seas, the least winde in the sky. Tipes vp the Barke, or brings a man in feare, Some haue no hearts, with roaring waues to striue. Full gréene to sight, and vggly to the eie. Which on the rockes, the silly vessels driue. And knocks their Kéeles, and makes poore Pilots cry Hale in the saile, let goe the bowling mate. Now in good faith, such soddaine shocks I hate, Yet some will thinke, I am not setled so, But I will séeke, to try the Sea againe, Why is the Earth, so narrow would I know, I cannot finde, where I may well remaine. The world is wide, and men must burthens beare, That ordaind are, vnto no better chance. That growes not here, takes roote an other where, Some shooteth ill, yet hapneth by a glaunce, To hit their game, men ought to doe their best. And séeke their lucke, and let God worke the rest. So for my part, I shall likewise procéede, And though I bid, the Court and world farewell, I meane to vse, them both as I haue néede. But for to say, in Court I wish to dwell, I minde it not, as God me helpe and spéede, And for the world, his yoke still draw I must.

But sure I serue, him all against my lust, For in the same, is neither hope nor trust, Wherefore my leaue, I take as powre I haue, From him and his, though course of life saith no. A worldling here, I must be to my graue. For this is but, a May game mixt with woe, A borrowde roulme, where we our Pageants playe. A skaffold plaine, whereon we reuels make. A crooked path, a parlous false high way, A toilesome soile, where we much trauell take, Good Reader now, doe neither sting nor hisse, At any thing, that in this verse is pl••est, Where fault is found, for fauour mend the misse. This rouing rime, was slubberd vp in hast, And nought thereby, the simple writer ment, But neither Court, nor world could him content.

FINIS.