He that his tunge can temper and refrayne And asswage the foly of hasty langage Shall kepe his mynde from trouble, sadnes and payne, And fynde therby great ease and avauntage; Where as a hasty speker falleth in great domage Peryll and losse, in lyke wyse as the pye Betrays hir byrdes by hir chatrynge and crye....
Is it not better for one his tunge to kepe Where as he myght (perchaunce) with honestee, Than wordes to speke whiche make hym after wepe For great losse folowynge wo and adversyte? A worde ones spokyn revoked can not be, Therfore thy fynger lay before thy types, For a wyse mannys tunge without advysement trypes.
He that wyll answere of his owne folysshe brayne Before that any requyreth his counsayle Shewith him selfe and his hasty foly playne, Wherby men knowe his wordes of none avayle. Some have delyted in mad blaborynge and frayle Whiche after have supped bytter punysshement For their wordes spoken without advysement....
Many have ben whiche sholde have be counted wyse Sad and discrete, and right well sene in scyence; But all they have defyled with this one vyse Of moche spekynge: o cursyd synne and offence Ryte it is that so great inconvenience So great shame, contempt rebuke and vylany Sholde by one small member came to the hole body.
Let suche take example by the chatrynge pye, Whiche doth hyr nest and byrdes also betraye By hyr grete chatterynge, clamoure dyn and crye, Ryght so these folys theyr owne foly bewraye. But touchynge wymen of them I wyll nought say, They can not speke, but ar as coy and styll As the horle wynde or clapper of a mylle.
Of Hym That Togyder Wyll Serve Two Masters
- by Sebastian Brant18
A fole he is and voyde of reason Whiche with one hounde tendyth to take Two harys in one instant and season; Rightso is he that wolde undertake Hym to two lordes a servaunt to make; For whether that he be lefe or lothe, The one he shall displease, or els bothe.
A fole also he is withouten doute, And in his porpose sothly blyndyd sore, Which doth entende labour or go aboute To serve god, and also his wretchyd store Of worldly ryches: for as I sayde before, He that togyder will two maysters serve Shall one displease and nat his love deserve.
For he that with one hounde wol take also Two harys togyther in one instant For the moste parte doth the both two forgo, And if he one have: harde it is and skant And that blynd fole mad and ignorant That draweth thre boltis atons in one bowe At one marke shall shote too high or too lowe....
He that his mynde settyth god truly to serve And his sayntes: this worlde settynge at nought Shall for rewarde everlastynge joy deserve, But in this worlde he that settyth his thought All men to please, and in favour to be brought Must lout and lurke, flater, laude, and lye: And cloke in knavys counseyll, though it fals be.
If any do hym wronge or injury He must it suffer and pacyently endure A double tunge with wordes like hony; And of his offycis if he wyll be sure He must be sober and colde of his langage, More to a knave, than to one of hye lynage.
Oft must he stoupe his bonet in his honde, His maysters back he must oft shrape and clawe, His brest anoyntynge, his mynde to understonde, But be it gode or bad therafter must he drawe. Without he can Jest he is nat worth a strawe, But in the mean tyme beware that he none checke; For than layth malyce a mylstone in his necke.
He that in court wyll love and favour have A fole must hym fayne, if he were none afore, And be as felow to every boy and knave, And to please his lorde he must styll laboure sore. His many folde charge maketh hym coveyt more That he had lever serve a man in myserye Than serve his maker in tranquylyte.
But yet when he hath done his dylygence His lorde to serve, as I before have sayde, For one small faute or neglygent offence Suche a displeasoure agaynst hym may be layde That out is he cast bare and unpurvayde, Whether he be gentyll, yeman grome or page; Thus worldly servyse is no sure herytage.
Wherfore I may prove by these examples playne That it is better more godly and plesant To leve this mondayne casualte and payne And to thy maker one god to be servaunt, Which whyle thou lyvest shall nat let the want That thou desyrest justly, for thy syrvyce, And than after gyve the, the joyes of Paradyse.
Poems by Sebastian Brant, Sebastian Brant's poems collection. Sebastian Brant is a classical and famous poet (1457 - 10 May 1521 / Strasbourg). Share all poems of Sebastian Brant.