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.

A Gentleman on a tyme, hauing three sons: and being very desyrous to haue them broughte vp at an Vni∣uersitie: being very well acquaynted with a yong Gentleman, who he knew had spent some yeares at Oxforde, desyred him to choose a Tutor there, for those his three Children, which as hee thought were fyttest to bring thē vp, as well in learning, as good behauyour: which hee was contented to doe, and hauing cho∣sen a Tutor for them, not long after hauing a great desyre to see them doe well, wrote their Tutor a letter, and with the Letter, a prety Tale in verse, to mooue him to haue a great care of them: the Letter I let alone, but the tale I haue thought good to shew forth among these prety Toyes, as one not the worst, whiche Tale was as followeth.

¶A little Preface before the Tale.

A Prety Tale, of late I heard, a learned wyse man tell, Whereto I gaue attentiue ••are, and markte it very well. Touching the bringing vp of youth, and who were fyttest men, In learning and good quallityes, to bring vp children. Which Tale when I had heard told out, of troth it likte me so, That to the lyke I were content, agayne ten myles to go.

Well as it was I did full ofte, reuolue the same in mind, And many prety poynctes therein, I many tymes did finde. And as one day vnto my selfe, by chaunce I did rehearse Eche poynct therin, I tooke my penne, and put it into verse. Which Tale so pend, according to my symple skill, I send to you: for diuers causes Syr, fyrst for that it doth tend Vnto a little matter that, there is twixt you and mee: It hath (I trow) somwhat respect, vnto the Children three, The three yong Gentlemen which to you, as my friend, I gaue in charge to rule and teach: and so I make an end.

❧The Tale followeth in this manner.

A Gentleman that had two sonnes, desyrous was to sée Them both in learning traded vp, for which great counsaile hée Of diuers often did requyre, what Tutors he might choose, To put these prety Puples too, that rightly might them vse. And vnder whom they mought in tyme, in learning profit most, And vnder whom they lykely were, their labours to haue lost. Well, to be bréefe, so many men, so many mindes there were, Som wold say this, some other that, & som were here, som there. Some sayd they thought that liberty, was yll for Children, Some other sayd that lawfull twas, and néedefull now & then. Some sayd the rod should be the sword, to kéepe children in awe, And other some such cruelty, counted not worth a strawe. Some sayd that children should, surpressed be by feare: Some thought to rule by gentlenesse, a better way it were. Some sayd that children were by nature bent to play, Which from their learning in short space, wil draw them soone away. Fro which by feare to kéepe thē still, the rod should be the meane Least little smacke of liberty, would quickly marre them cleane And vse would make great masteries, for so by kéeping in, And harde applying of their bookes, they profite would therein. Some other then that thorowly this matter did discusse, To that opynyon contrary, alleadged reason thus.

Children by nature are not bent, to any kynde of play, Their minds are euē half made by thē, that gouern them alway And y^• to kéepe their minds frō play, the rod should be no meane, And that by feare for to subdue, that were not worth a beane. As for examples sake (quoth one) at first take me a chyld, Who hath a prety redy wit, although of nature wyld: And let him learne to daunce, to shoote, and play at ball, And any other sporte, but put him to his booke withall: And when he is abroade, if fayre he doe not shoote, Or when he gins to daunce, if false he chaunce to foote. Then pay him, bréech him thorowly, fauour him not at all, And now and then correct him well, though for a fault but smal If that he trip or misse his tyme, vp with him by and by, Let him not ••lip with such a fault, but pay him presently. And you shall sée that oft for feare, his legges will quiuer so, That he shall neuer learne to daunce, nor scarcely well to go. And when in feeld he drawes not cleane, his arrow in his bow, Knocke him vpon the fyngers harde, and you shall sée I trow, That in a whyle his fyngers ends, for feare will quiuer so, That he will neuer learne aright, to let his arrow go. Now if he be harde at his booke, although he learne not well, Eyther forget, or con••ter false: at fyrst doe gently tell Him of his faulte, and if that he doe plye it harde, Giue him an Apple, or a Peare, or some such chyldes rewarde. And trust me you shall see, the schoole shall be his chéefe delight, And from his booke, he séeld will bée, or neuer if he might. Wherefore by reason thus I prooue, that children be not bent, But that their natures much are made, by Tutors gouernmēt. But this I graunt as requisite, with reason to correct, Lest children oft for lacke thereof▪ their faultes to much neglect. But as a sworde, to set it vp, in schoole to open sight, I lyke not that, for tis to some, at fyrst to great a fright. Their eyes are so vpon the rodde, they little minde their booke, For childish feare will cause them still, vpon the rodde to looke. And so their eyes quyte from their bokes, not only draws away But eke their minds, as much and more, then any kinde of play

Wherefore a rod I would in scholes, should be kept out of sight, To make the Children to their bookes, to haue a more delight. ¶Another graue gray headded syre, that harde them reason so, Thus sayd, so many shrewd curst toyes, & wāton wags I know And eke so many Schoolemaysters, that lack good gouernment, That many prety Boyes wil mar, that are of minds well bent. That sure I know not what to say, but trust me in my minde, A good Tutor, whereto a chyld is bent, can quickly fynde. And as he fyndes the nature of the chyld, euen so he may, By gentle meanes, euen as he list, soone leade him euery way. So that to kéepe him in good awe, correction now and than, He iustly vse with gentlenesse, as a good Tutor can. Well, at the last this Gentleman, when he had heard at large, Their true opynyons euery one, at last he gaue in charge. His two sonnes, to two sundry men, wherof the one was milde And euer sought by gentle meanes, for to bring vp a childe. The other was of nature fierce, and therefore rather sought, With store of stripes for to bring vp, such children as he tought. The Children both of nature like, in tyme did differ much, The difference of gouernment, of Tutors theirs were such. The one did prooue a proper Youth, and learned for his tyme, And by his learning afterward, to honour high did clyme. This was by him brought vp, that was of nature mylde, And euer sought by gentle meanes, for to bring vp a Chylde. The other proued but a blocke, a Dunsicus, an asse, Because with too much cruelty, he often dulled was. This was brought vp by him, that was so fierce of minde, That thought y^• rod should be the sword, to rule a child by kinde. The Father sory afterward, to sée his Child so lost, And seing that his other sonne, did euer profite most. Tooke him away from that fierce foole, and put him presently, To him that was the mylder man, praying him earnestly. To sée if that he could in tyme, quicken his dulled wit, Desyring him thereto to vse, such meanes as he thought fyt. Well, at the last with much adoe, he tooke a litte payne, And tooke in hand to sharpen then, his dulled brayne agayne.

And many ma••••••ries he did prooue, but rigour none hee ••sde, For that before, he had so much, by thother ben abusde. But euer sought, by gentle meanes, to make him void of feare, And so in time, did alter much, his nature as it were. Hee made him boulder to his booke, therfore more willinge to His study still, but yet alas, what euer hee coulde doe Hee coulde not make him like vnto, his brother any way, Although he striude, and tooke great pains, asmuch as in him lay. Yet euery way he mended had, his nature verie much, The gentle meanes, he euer ••••••e, in teaching him were such. Well to be short, when that this Gentilman did see, The difference, twixt his two sons, there shall n•• more quoth he, Of children mine, ••e put to Schoole, to such as still do•• vse, To rule the children by the rod: I rather ai•• will chuse, To put ••y children vnto those, that are of nature mil••e, And know by l•••••• and gent••nesse, 〈…〉〈…〉 a ••••il••••. And thus, the tale was at an ende. 〈…〉〈…〉, the Gentilman that had two so••nes, desirous was to see Them both in learning traded vp ••e••en so no l••••se 〈◊〉〈◊〉 I, Des••rous for to s•• these Youthes, both learn••••ly, And vertuously brought vp, as••••ch ••s if they were The néerest hinsmen that I haue, or br••thren d••ere, I sweare. Wherefore good Syr, as I in you, my faithfull trust repose, Uouchsafe, to take such pains with them, that they no time 〈◊〉〈◊〉 lose. And for correction, now and than, to him that doth not well, I meane not to instruct you ••ir, your selfe can better tell Th••n I what long•• thereto: ther••fore, as you shall finde, Use your discretion Sir therein, accordinge to your minde. Thus you haue heard, the milder man, the better Schollar made, And yet, a bridell must be had, for a wilde brainesicke Iade. But for your prety Coltes, I ho••e no ••ridle you shall neede: I hope you easely shall them bende, with a small twined thréed. My meaning is, I hope they will, themselues eche order so: That you shall neede, to take small care, almost which way they go. Yet now and then, though without néede, somwhat looke out I pray Least that they hap, by Company, for to bee led astray.

For though, their ••atures well be bent: yet you kno•• now & then, Ill company oft tymes, god wot, doth marre an honest m••n: And they you know, are al•• ••ut young, and Youth de••ights in toyes And toyes, frō lear••••••g quit & cleane, wit〈8 letters〉〈8 letters〉 wanton boyes: Yet in ••ood faith. I hope good ••••r, yo••r prety P••ples three, Will both in lear••ing, a•••• all things, by you so r••led bee. And eke vnto their b••••kes, 〈…〉〈…〉 haue so great desire: That earnest more, or dilige••t, you cannot well require. Well, I haue put them all to you, you ••••ly mu•••• be hee, Th••t as ••ell to their le••rning, as be••••uiour ••ust se••. I sought not out▪ three ••ondry men, to put these children too To see, which ••f them ••••lde 〈◊〉〈◊〉 best, and which againe would doo Worst of the three, but all vnto your charge I ••oe commit, To teache and go••erne, by such meanes, as you alone thinck fit. And as I ••••••e, the•• ••i••e•• i•• charge, to you, euen so I cra••e Th•••• 〈…〉〈…〉 e••ch way behaue And 〈…〉〈…〉 so, that when from you they part, I to haue found a Tutor such, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••ill be gl••d in hart. And you your 〈…〉〈…〉 glad to see: Their vertuous 〈…〉〈…〉 b••o••ght vp by me. Their Father 〈…〉〈…〉, is for to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 them all In l••••r••ing d••ily to 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and further therewith••ll In good behauiour eke, may well in hart reioyce: That I in thi•• behalf, haue made so good and happy choy••e As to finde out, so ••it a man, to put his children too. As vnder whom, they all in time, so well are like to ••••••. And I my selfe, the more for that, may ••••ande your ••oun••en fri••nd: And he reward you for your paines, and so I make an ende.

FINIS.