The Ship of Fools, Volume 1

by Sebastian Brant

Of them that correct other and yet them selfe do nought and synne worse than they whom they so correct.

He lacketh reason and vnderstandynge to
Whiche to a towne or Cyte knoweth the way
And shewyth other howe they may thether go
Hym selfe wandrynge aboute from day to day
In myre and fen, though his iourney thether lay
So he is mad whiche to other doth preche and tell
The wave to heuyn, and hym selfe goth to hell.

Nowe to our Nauy, a sorte maketh asaute

Of folys blynde, mad Jugys and Iniust

Whiche lyghtly noteth another mannes faute.

Chastynge that synne, whiche theyr owne mynde doth rust

By longe abydynge, and increas of carnall lust

They cloke their owne vyce synne and enormyte

Other blamynge and chastynge with moche cruelte

They mocke and mowe at anothers small offence

And redy ar a faute in them to fynde

But of theyr owne foly and inconuenyence

They se no thynge, for fully ar they blynde

Nat notynge the vyce rotyd in theyr owne mynde

Theyr greuous woundes and secrete malady

For theyr owne yll they seke no remedy

The hande whiche men vnto a Crosse do nayle

Shewyth the waye ofte to a man wandrynge

Whiche by the same his right way can nat fayle

But yet the hande is there styll abydynge

So do these folys lewde of theyr owne lyuynge

To other men shewe mean and way to wynne

Eternall ioy themselfe bydynge in synne

He sertaynly may well be callyd a sote

Moche vnauysed and his owne ennemy

Whiche in a nothers iye can spye a lytell mote

And in his owne can nat fele nor espye

A moche stycke, so is he certaynly.

Whiche noteth anothers small faute or offence

To his owne great synnes gyuynge none aduertence

Many them selfe fayne as chaste as was saynt Johnn

And many other fayne them meke and innocent

Some other as iust, and wyse as Salomon

As holy as Poule, as Job als pacyent

As sad as senecke, and as obedyent

As Abraham, and as martyn vertuous

But yet is theyr lyfe full lewde and vycious

Some lokyth with an aungels countenaunce

Wyse sad and sober lyke an heremyte

Thus hydynge theyr synne and theyr mysgouernaunce.

Under suche clokys lyke a fals ypocryte

Let suche folys rede what Cicero doth wryte

Whiche sayth that none sholde blame any creature

For his faut, without his owne lyuynge be sure

Without all spot of synne faut or offence

For in lyke fourme as a phesycyan.

By his practyse and cunnynge or scyence

The sekenes curyth of a nother man

But his owne yll nor dyseas he nat can

Relefe nor hele so doth he that doth blame

Anothers synne: he styll lyuynge in the same

Many ar whiche other can counseyll craftely

And shewe the peryll that may come by theyr synne

But them selfe they counseyll nat: ne remedy.

Nor take no waye whereby they heuyn may wynne

But lye in that vyce that they rotyd ar in

Leuynge the way that gydyth to ioy and rest

Their owne sensualyte ensuynge as a beest

Wherfore ye prestis that haue the charge and cure.

To teche and enfourme the rude comonte.

In goddys lawes groundyd in scripture

And blame all synnes sparynge no degre

Whyle ye rebuke thus theyr enormyte

Lyue so that none may cause haue you to blame

And if ye do nat: it is to your great shame

For without doute it is great vylany

A man to speke agaynst any offence

Wherin he well knowyth hym owne selfe gylty

Within his mynde and secrete conscience

Agaynst hymselfe suche one gyueth sentence

Howe god ryght iuge, by rightwyse iugement

Shulde hym rewarde with worthy punysshement

The enuoy of Barklay to the Folys.

Ye clerkes that on your shulders here the shelde

Unto you graunted by the vnyuersyte.

Howe dare ye auenture to fyght in cristes felde

Agaynst synne, without ye clere and gyltles be

Consyder the Cocke and in hym shall ye se:

A great example, for with his wynges thryse

He betyth hym selfe to wake his owne bodye

Before he crowe, to cause other wake or ryse.

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