The Ship of Fools, Volume 1

by Sebastian Brant

Of predestynacion.

That man that lokyth for to haue a rewarde
Whiche he hath nat deseruyd to obtayne
And lenyth his body vpon a rede forwarde
Whiche for waykenes may hym nat well sustayne
Forsoth this fole may longe so loke in vayne
And on the Crauys he styll shall bacwarde ryde
Cryenge with the doue, whose flyght shall hym ay gyde

It is vnlawfull, man to be dilygent

Or serchynge goddes workes to set his thought

Howe he hath made the heuen and fyrmament

The erth the see and euery thynge of nought

Yet of some Folys the cause hereof is sought,

Whiche labour also with curyosyte

To knowe the begynnynge of his dyuynyte

These folys forgettynge their owne fragilyte

Wolde loke to knowe the ende of euery thynge

Boldly disputynge in goddys pryuete

And what rewarde is ordeynyd for men lyuynge

Of many folys this is the moste musynge

Whiche labour dayly with besy cure and payne.

To knowe what god doth discerne and or ordayne

Therfore in this part I shall dispyse and blame

Unchrafty folys whiche scantly haue ouer sene

Ought of scripture, if they knowe the bokes name

Or els a whyle hath at the Scoles bene

Than bende they the browys and stedfastly they wene

In theyr conceyt that they ar passynge wyse

For all scripture newe commentis to deuyse

They frowardly the sentence do transpose

And that whiche is wryten, both playne and holely

By theyr corruptynge and vnlawfull glose

Oft tyme they brynge to damnable heresy

Falsly expoundynge after theyr fantasy

They labour to transpose and turne the right sence

Thoughe the wordes stryue and make great resystence

Here what these folys with theyr audacyte

Dare besely say by theyr fals errour blynde

Presumynge on goddes secrete and pryuete

Here what lewde wordes they cast out in the wynde

They say what man can chaunge or turne his mynde

To lyue after any other fourme and rate

But lyke as he is therto predestynate

They say: if god that rayneth ouerall

Hath any ordeyned that in this worlde is

To come to the place and rowme celestyall

For to be partyner of euerlastynge blys

Ordeyned for suche as here doth nat amys

No man can chaunge, not other thynge mundayne

That thynge whiche god by his myght doth ordayne

But if that god prefyxed hath before

Any creature vnto infernall payne

In derknes to be damnyd for euer more

No erthly thynge may that sentence call agayne

Nor hym delyuer: o fole thou mayst complayne

For this thy foly and also it repent

Thynkest thou nat god alway omnypotent

Is god nat rightwyse and grounde of all iustyce

Rewardynge man after his gouernaunce

He that hath here nat lyen in synne and vyce

Hauynge in goddys seruyce his pleasaunce

Shall of his lorde be had in remembraunce

And of rewarde worthely be sure

Where it is worthy that synners payne endure

Trust well who seruyth his maker stedfastly

With pure herte kepynge sure his commaundement

And lawes shall be rewardyd fynally

With heuenly ioy and scape all punysshement

Therfore thou fole leue of this lewde intent

Lyue vertuously and trust in goddes grace

Than yll desteny in the shall haue no place

Vnto great ioy god hath vs all create

And to vs all ordeyned his kyngdome

And none hath vnto Hell predestynate

But often whan we folowe nat wysdome

By ouer owne foly we fall, and so become

Vnto our maker vnkind: and hym deny

Whiche them rewardyth that here lyue vertuously

Therfore thou Fole desyst thy wordes vayne

And let thy tunge no more suche wordes say

For god hath vs made all of one stuf certayne

As one potter makyth of one clay

Vessels dyuers, but whan he must them lay

Vpon the kyll with fyre them there to dry

They come nat all to good, moste comonly

Doth this erthyn pot his maker dispyse

Whether it be made of fassyon good or yll

Saynge why dost thou make me in this wyse

Wherfore mad man I reade the to be styll

Blame nat thy maker, for thy vnhappy wyll

For god hath neuer man nor childe create

But all he hath to heuen predestynate

And whyle we lyue here on this wretchyd grounde

We haue our reason and wyttes vs to gyde

With our fre wyll and if no faute be founde

In our demenour, in heuen we shall abyde

But if we goddes lawes set asyde

Howe may we hope of hym rewarde to wyn

So our owne foly is moste cause of our syn.

The enuoy of Barclay.

O creature vnkynde vnto thy creatour

What carest thou to knowe or to inuestygate

The pryuetye, of god, leue this thy errour

To thynke the by hym to be predestynate

To endles wo and from his blysse pryuate

For syns thou hast thy reason and frewyll

Gyuyn the by god, thou art in suche estate

To take the eleccion outher of good or yll

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