Abbildungen der Seite


I cannot eat but little meat

My stomach is not good;
But sure, I think that I can drink

With him that wears a hood.
Tho' I go bare, take ye no care,

I nothing am a cold, I stuff my

skin so full within Of jolly good ale and old. Back and side go bare, go bare,

Both foot and hand go cold; But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,

Whether it be new or old.

I love no roast but a nut-brown toast,

And a crab laid in the fire;
A little bread shall do me stead,

Much bread I nought desire.
No frost, no snow, no wind I trow,

Can hurt me if I wold,
I am so wrapp'd, and thoroughly lapp'd,

Of jolly good ale and old. Back and side, &c.

And Tib, my wife, that as her life

Loveth well good ale to seek, Full oft drinks she, till ye may see

The tears run down her cheek:
Then doth she troul to me the bowl,

Even as a malkworm should,
And saith,“ Sweetheart, I took my part

“ Of this jolly good ale and old.” Back and side, &c.

Now let them drink till they nod and wink,

Even as good fellows should do; They shall not miss to have the bliss

Good ale doth bring men to. And all

poor souls that have scoured bowls, Or have them lustily trould, God save the lives of them and their wives,

Whether they be young or old. Back and side, &c.


In the new edition of “ Phillips's Theatrum Poetarum,” this

author is said to have been a surgeon at Maidstone in Kent, and to have written many tracts on the subject of his profession. Besides his Court of Virtue, he published, in 1550, “ Certain chapters taken out of the Proverbs of Solomon, "&c. &c.” His birth may perhaps be placed about 1520.


The just and true man complaineth that flattery and

falsehood are more regarded than truth, and rejoiceth that he is hated for the truth.

IF Truth may take no trusty hold,

Nor cleave so fast as flattering sense,
Well may thy heart, poor man, be cold !

For then is gone all sure defence.

If meaning well may take no place,

Nor dealing just have no regard,
Thou must devise another space

To feign such things as may be heard,

Shall virtue dwell in such disdain?

And honesty be had in hate?
Then must we learn to glose, and feign,

Or else remain in vile estate.

But, if there be none other way,

To purchase favour and good-will, Better it were, I dare well say,

In vile estate to tarry still.

Yet if wisdom were nobleness,

As noble birth and riches is,
Then should not truth be in distress,

And flattery should of favour miss.

“ Blamed but not shamed,” the proverb is,

And truth can have none other wrong: So may they hap their mark to miss,

That think themselves in falsehood strong.

Then hated, lo, I must rejoice,

And fond-regard despise as vain : Closing my mouth, stopping my voice

From speech in presence of disdain.


Named Blame not my Lute;" which under that

title toucheth, replieth, and rebuketh, the wicked state and enormities of most people in these present miserable days.

BLAME not my lute, though it do sound

The rebuke of your wicked sin;
But rather seek, as ye are bound,

To know what case that ye are in.
And though this song do sin confute,
And sharply wickedness rebuke,

Blame not my lute.

If my lute blame the covetise,

The gluttons, and the drunkards vile, The proud disdain of worldly wise,

And how falsehood doth truth exile : Though vice and sin be now in place, In stead of virtue and of grace :

Blame not my lute.

Though wrong in justice place be set,

Committing great iniquity,
Though hypocrites be counted great,

That maintain still idolatry,

« ZurückWeiter »