Of the mutabylyte of fortune.

That man whiche hopyth hye vp to ascende
On fortunes whele, and come to state royall
If the whele turne, may doute sore to descende
If he be hye the sorer is his fall
So he whiche trustyth nat therto at all
Shall in moste eas and suerty hymselfe gyde
For vnsure fortune can in no place abyde

We dayly proue by example and euydence

That many be made folys mad and ignorant

By the brode worlde, puttynge trust and confydence

In fortunes whele vnsure and inconstant

Some assay the whele thynkynge it pleasant

But whyle they to clym vp haue pleasour and desyre

Theyr fete them faylyth so fall they in the myre

Promote a yeman, make hym a gentyl man

And make a Baylyf of a Butchers son

Make of a Squyer knyght, yet wyll they if they can

Coueyt in theyr myndes hyer promosyon

And many in the worlde haue this condicion

In hope of honour by treason to conspyre

But ofte they slyde, and so fall in the myre

Suche lokys so hye that they forget theyr fete

On fortunes whele whiche turneth as a ball

They seke degrees for theyr small myght vnmete

Theyr folysshe hertis and blynde se nat theyr fall

Some folys purpose to haue a rowme Royall

Or clym by fortunes whele to an empyre

The whele than turneth lyuynge them in the myre

O blynde man say what is thyne intent

To worldly honoures so greatly to entende

Or here to make the hye ryche and excellent

Syns that so shortly thy lyfe must haue an ende

None is so worthy, nor can so hye ascende

Nor nought is so sure if thou the trouth enquyre

But that it may doute to fall downe to the myre

There is no lorde Duke kynge nor other estate

But dye they must, and from this wolde go

All worldly thynges whiche god hath here create

Shall nat ay byde, but haue an ende also

What mortall man hath ben promotyd so:

In worldly welthe or vncertayne dignyte

That euer of lyfe had houre of certaynte

In stormy wyndes lowest trees ar most sure

And howsys surest whiche ar nat byldyd hye

Where as hye byldynges may no tempest endure

Without they be foundyd sure and stedfastly

So gretest men haue moste fere and ieopardy

Better is pouertye though it be harde to bere

Than is a hye degre in ieopardy and fere,

The hyllys ar hye, the valeys ar but lowe

In valeys is come the hyllys ar barayne

On hyest places most gras doth nat ay growe

A mery thynge is mesure and easy to sustayne

The hyest in great fere, the lowest lyue in payne

Yet better ly on grounde, hauynge no name at all

Than hye on a Clyf ferynge alway to fall

Thus as me thynke it is no thynge lawdable

On fortunes whele, for one to clym to hye

Syns the swyft cours therof is so vnstable

And all must we leue whan we depart and dye

Of our short lyfe haue we no certayntye

For lachesys (whan that thou hast lefte drede)

Of thy lyue dayes shall shortly breke the threde.

Atropos is egall to pore man and estate

Defar wyll nat deth by prayer ne request

No mortall man may his furour mytygate.

Nor of hym haue one day longer here to rest:

Content the with measure (therfore) for it is best

Coueyt nat to moche in honour to excell

It is a fowle fall to fall from erth to hell

Unstable fortune exalteth some a loft

To this intent, them to brynge to an yll ende

For who that hye clymmeth his fall can nat be soft

If that mysfortune constrayne hym to dyscende

Though Julius Cesar his lordshyp dyd extende

Ouer all the worlde: yet fortune at the last.

From lyfe and lordshyp hym wretchydly dyd cast

This hath ben sene, is sene, and euer shall

That most peryll is in hyest dignyte

Howe many estatis, howe many men Royall.

Hath fortune dryuyn downe into aduersyte

Rede dyuers cronycles, and thou shall playnly se

That many thousandes hath endyd in doloure

By theyr immoderate mynde to honoure

Ouer rede Bochas and than shalt thou se playne

The fall of prynces wryten ryght compendeously

There shalt thou se what punysshement and payne

Haue to them fallen, somtyme by theyr foly

And oft is moche preuy hatered and enuy

Had agaynst lordes of the rude comonte

Where euer they go: they lyue in ieopardye

Ay dowtynge deth by cursed gyle and treason

Eche thynge mysdemynge, ferynge to be opprest

By some mysfortune, with venym or with poyson.

Thus in great honour is neyther ioy nor rest

But thought and fere, ye whyle the lyfe doth lest

Thus who that procuryth great honour to attayne

Procuryth with all, enuy, peryll, fere and payne

A lorde or state whom many men doth drede

With loueles fere, and fayned countenaunce

Unto hym selfe ought wysely to take hede

And them to fere, if he wyll voyde myschaunce

For why a comonty is of suche ignoraunce

And so enuyous, that both erly and late

They muse to destroy hym whom, they fere and hate

A man promotyd vnto hye dygnyte

Shall haue loue shewyd hym by adulacion

But no true loue nouther faythfull amyte.

Good fame nor name, ne commendacion

Ye though he be worthy great exaltacion

Pytefull louynge and full of equyte

Yet harde is to please a folysshe comonte

Therfore me thynke of all thynge it is best

Man to be pleased and content with his degre

For why in mesure, is suerty eas and rest

And ay moste peryll in hyest dignyte

Fortune is full of changes and mutabylyte

Trust nat therto, therby comyth do gode

But nowe hye nowe lowe, vnstable as a flode

Alexander barklay to the Folys.

Labour nat man with to moche besy cure

To clymme to hye lyst thou by fortune fall

For certaynly, that man slepyth nat sure

That lyeth lows vpon a narowe wall

Better somtyme to serue, than for to gouerne all

For whan the Net is throwen into the se

The great fysshe ar taken and the pryncipall

Where as the small escapyth quyte and fre