Classic Poem

M ETHINKES I see you smile
before you gin to reede,
At this same title of my Tale:
but, for you shall not neede.
To maruaile at the same.
First, read it to the ende,
And marke ye still, through all the tale
wherto eche point dooth tend:
And you shall see I hope,
that this same title serues
Fit for this tale: cls, sure my minde
from reason greatly swarues:
Who is expert in any Arte,
dooth beare a Maisters name:
Then he who cheefe is in an Art
dooth well deserue the same
Of Arte of lucklesse Loue,
first Fancie is the ground,
Although that Cupid, with his Dart.
doo giue the deadly wounde.
First, Fancie liking breedes,
and liking breedeth Loue,
And Loue the breeds such passing pangs,
as many Louers prooue:
And when the troubled minde
with torments is opprest,
Fancie dooth finde some secret meane
to breede the hart some rest:
And Fancie shee sometime
to breede the Louers ioy
A thousand sundrie wayes (at least)
dooth still her paines imploy:
She thinkes on this and that,
shee teacheth how to looue,
And tels the Louer what to doo,
as best for his behooue.
But least I go to farre,
and run too much at large
Out of the waye, and take no care
what thing I haue in charge:
I will begin to show,
what kinde of Schoole this is,
What orders too shee keepes therein
First lo the Schoole is this.
The roome bothe large and long
and very darke of sight,
The most sight that her Schollers haue
is chieflie by fier light:
Which fier dooth burne so bright
as giues them light to see
To read such books, as there are taught:
but what this fier may bee
Nowe thereby lyes a case.
Well marke what I doo wright,
And you shall know: for I my selfe
haue seene it burning bright.
First, Fancie fetcheth coales,
and calles for Deepe desire:
By him shee setteth Vaine delight
and biddes them blow the fire:
And when the fire once burnes,
for to maintaine the same
The Colier Care, hee brings in coales
vnto this daintie Dame.
Hee makes his Coales of wood,
that growes on Haire braine hill:
The Groue 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 ruthe:
Lo thus, this fier dooth burne,
and still dooth 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
she takes the wildest wittes.
And those she takes in hands,
to teach the Art of loue:
Which being taught in that vain Art
do soone fine schollers proue
She teacheth 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 deerest freend
to bleare the parents eyes:
To spend both landes and goods
to venter Lim and life,
To make foes frends, and twixt deere frends,
to set debate & strife:
To doo, and vndoo too,
so that they may obtaine
Their mistresse looue: and neuer care
for taking any paine
To iet in braue attire,
to please their Mistris eye:
Although perhaps they vtterly
vndoe themselues thereby.
To learne to singe and daunce
to play on Instruments,
To speake choice of straunge languages
to trie experiments
Straunge seldome had in vse:
in fine, to tell you plaine,
To doo almoste they care not what
their Ladies loue to gaine:
And thus in tract of time
by such instructions,
Shee makes them tread the perfect pathe
to their destructions:
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 he will teach his Scholler soone
to prooue a Naturall.
The second, Frenzie is,
in teaching too as bad:
For he will teach his Schollers most
the way to make them mad:
The Vssher Follie first,
he teacheth to be bould,
Without aduice to giue no eare
to counsaile that is tould:
To take delight in gauds,
and foolish trifling toyes,
In things of value, little worth
to set his chiefest ioyes
To prate without regarde
of reason in his talke,
To think black white and wrong for right
& know not cheese fro chalke:
To loue the things in deede,
which moste he ought to hate:
For trifling toyes, with deerest freends,
to fall at dire debate:
To looue to play at Dice
to sware his blood and hart,
To face it with a Ruffins looke
and set his Hat a thwart
To haunt the Tauernes late,
by night to trace the streetes,
And swap ech slut vpon the lippes
that in the darke he 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 lie too like a Dog
To wallow almost like a Beare
and snortle like a Hog.
To feede too like a Horse,
to drinke too like an Oxe,
To shew himselfe in each respect
a very very Coxe.
But such a Scholler now
is chosen of grose wit,
Because that Beetle heads doo serue
for such instructions fit.
The other Usher now,
that Frenzie bath to name,
His kinde of teaching hee againe
another waye dooth frame:
Hee 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 cryes,
To harbor batred in his hart
and mischiefe to deuise:
To hate all good aduice
to follow witlesse will,
And in the end, for want of grace,
to seeke himselfe to kill.
And sutch his Schollers are,
ripe wits, but wanting grace,
And sutch vngratious graffes, doo learne
sutch gracelesse geare apace:
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 he a while,
hath biu in Fancie's Schoole,
Dooth learne in his olde crooked age
to play the doting foole.
And such there are sometime
(more pittie) for to see,
That in their crooked doting age
would faine fine louers bee.
Which beeing in that Schoole,
doo prooue, for all their paine
By Frenzie mad, by Folly fooles
or els by Fancie vaine.
My selfe can tell too well,
for I haue seen the Schoole,
And learned so long there till I proud
more halfe a very foole
First, Fancie dandled me
and held me on her lap:
And now and then, shee would me feede
with worldly pleasures pap
Shee tould mee, I was young,
and I my youth must spend
In youthfull sporte. I did not know
how soone my life would end:
Be merry while I mought,
Set carke and care aside:
How mad were he, 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 me good
that wrought (in deed) 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
wherein 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 up againe I went,
Unto my Mistrisse Fancie fine:
and straight downe shee me sent
Unto the nether ende
of all her Schoole below,
Where Frenzie sat: and sweating hard
he gan to puffe and blow.
He little likte my minde,
yet would I ye or no,
I learnd some of his raging rules,
ere 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 up againe in haste I went
to Fancie fond, God wot
And lying in her lap,
I fell a sleepe anon:
Where sleeping so, I dreamed sore
that I was wo begon:
Me thought that wisdome came
and warned mee in hast,
To lothe sutch lessons as I learnd
ere that my youth were past.
For short should be my sweet,
and time would passe away:
The man is in his graue too day
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 little time
it wither will away.
Thy pleasures wilbe paine,
thy game will turne to greefe
And thou wilt seeke in vaine to late,
when y u wouldst finde releef:
Arise thou sluggish slaue,
out of that lothsome lap.
And he 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 prooue 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 thee plaine
therefore 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 such Youthes,
words seldome will preuaile,
With this same rod, thou foolish boy
I meane to breech thy taile.
With which (me thought) he gaue
a ierke, that made me smart:
Which soden smart although but small
yet made me give a start:
And in my starting so
I waked sodenly;
And so awake 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 countenace finde:
How now my youth (quoth she)
what ailes thee seeme so sad?
What cast thou think to cheare thy minde
but that it shalbe had?
No, no, (quoth I) I not
beleeue these woords of thine.
Thou sausy slaue (quoth she) darest y u
mistrust these words of mine?
And, therewith in a rage,
Shee threwe me from her lap
And with the fall, be shrew 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 Fancie in a rage I flong
and out of dores I ronne:
And beyng out of doore,
these wordes me thought I said,
Fie on thee FANCIE, flatteryng flyrt
I hold me wel apaide:
That I am got away,
out of thy skyllesse Scoole:
For now I see, thou wentst 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, hearing this,
to make mee styll to stay,
To fetche mee in with pleasant sportes
inuented many a way:
But when I dyd perceiue
how neere mee still she came,
Then from her quite I floong in haste
and so I left this Dame.
Loe, thus I tell you how,
I came from Fancies Scoole:
Where, learnyng but a little while
I proou'd more halfe a foole:
Wherfore, since my good hap,
hath ben to come from thence,
Although with labour lost, in deede
and some, too mutch expence:
I now haue thought it good,
to warne eche one my frende,
To keepe themselues from Fancies Schoole
& so I make an ende.