The Ship of Fools, Volume 1

by Sebastian Brant

Of them that dyspyse euerlastynge ioye, and settyth thynges transytory before thynges eternall and euerlastynge.

He is a foule that weyeth in one balaunce
The heuen and erth to knowe the heuyest
And by his foly and cursed ignoraunce
He thynketh that this wretchyd erth is best
And thoughe that here be neyther ioy nor rest
Yet had some leuer here styll to remayne
Than to depart to heuen voyde of al payne

My hande is wery: fayne wolde I rest a space

But folys comyth to my shyp so besely

That to haue rest: they wyll graunt me no grace

That nede I must theyr lewdnes notefy

But to recorde this folysshe company

They ar suche that this worlde so greatly loue

That they despyse the heuenly Royalme aboue

They often thynke in theyr mynde preuely

And by them selfe in this wyse oft they say

O glorious lorde raynynge eternally

Graunt me thy grace that I may lyue alway

To se of this worlde the extreme ende and day

This is my wyll and synguler askynge

As for thy royalme, forsoth I set no thynge

But yet this fole doth nat desyre this tyme

Of so longe lyfe, and yeres alway newe

To clens his mynde from all synfull cryme

Nor for the loue of goodnes or vertue

But rather that he his pleasour may ensue

And with his maters and felawes suche as he

To folowe ryot, delytys and enormyte.

To lyue in wantonnes and blyndnes lascyuyte

In pryde in Lechery andin couetyse

Suche sytteth theyr myndes and theyr felycyte

Not ferynge hell whiche is rewarde of vyce.

Those dredefull dennys, in a right ferefull wyse

With fyres flamynge, and manyfolde tourment

Can nat suche folys, theyr synnes cause to stent

O sleuthfull fole say why doste nat thou call

Unto thy mynde that this worldes wretchydnes

Is full of sorowe moche more bytter than gall

Uoyde of all ioy, all pleasour and swetnes

Why settest thou so moche by frayle delyciousnes

On vayne pleasours, whiche shall sothly decay

Lyke as the sone meltyth the snowe away

Man note my wordes and gyue to them credence

I say that pleasours and also ioyes mundayne

As it apereth playne by good euydence

Ar fylled with sorowe bytternes and payne

Without all rest quyete or certayne

And yet alas the worlde so doth men blynde

That it they loue and caste heuen out of mynde

Wherfore it hapneth full often as I fynde

That suche as foloweth shamefull wantonnes

Ungoodly luste, and statelynes of mynde

Shall ofte perceyue great shame and wretchydnes

And them most suffer, with great mundayne distres.

And better charges, and after must nede endure

Cruell deth whiche ende is of euery creature

The worlde shall passe: ye and all ioy mundayne

Without all doute at last shall haue an ende

And euery thynge outher fruytfull or barayne

Shall to the grounde outher firste or last discende

We se also that none can hym defende

From dethes dartis. and for conclusyon.

We dayly se many mennys confusyon.

We dayly se the fallys innumerable

And greuous deth aswell of youth as age

Thus is this wretchyd worlde moche vnstable

Wherfore me thynke it is a great outrage

To trust therto, or for an vnsure stage

Or hye place of welth or worldly honour

The presence to despyse of our sauyoure

But without doute the tyme shall come and houre

Whan all mankynde shall se hym euydent

Some to theyr ioy, some to wo and doloure

None shall eskhape that rightwyse iugement.

But eche be rewardyd as he his tyme hath spent

So they that vertuously haue lyuyd here

Despysynge this worlde shall gladly there apere

But they that here haue led theyr lyfe in vyce

For to depart ar wo in herte and mynde

And ferefull to byde that sentence of iustyce

Syns of theyr synne excuse they can none fynde

But to conclude forsoth that fole is blynde

That for worldly welth, from god wolde hym deuyde

And for vayne clay, the hye heuyn set a syde

The enuoy of Barklay to the Folys.

O blynde man whiche hast thy moste felycyte

On worldly thinges, alas make clere thy mynde

What fyndest thou here, but great aduersyte

Wylt thou for it leue y^t heuenly ioy behynde

And where thou myght euerlastynge ryches fynde

Where as is helth, endles lyfe and all goodnes

Wylt thou forsake it for worldly wretchydnes

Wylt thou heuyn compare with his paynfull lyfe

There on to thynke thou art vnwyse certayne

There is concorde, here is no thynge but stryfe

There is all rest, and here is care and payne

There is true loue: here is scorne and disdayne

There is all goodnes, here all yll and offence

Nowe chuse the best: here is great difference

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Of them that make noyses rehersynges of talys and do other thynges vnlaufull and dishonest in y^e chirche of god.

A fole is he, and hath no mynde deuoute
And gyueth occasyon to men on hym to rayle.
Whiche goth in the chirche, his houndes hym aboute
Some rennynge, some fast tyed to his tayle
A hawke on his fyst suche one withouten fayle
Better were to be thens, for by his dyn and cry
He troublyth them that wolde pray deuoutly:

Yet of mo folys fynde I a great nomber

Whiche thynke that it is no shame nor vylany

Within the chirche, the seruyce to encomber

With theyr lewde barkynge roundynge dyn and cry

And whyle good people ar praynge stedfastly

Theyr herte to good, with meke mynde and deuout

Suche folys them let, with theyr mad noyse and shout

And whyle the prestis also them exercyse.

In matyns masse sermon or prechynge dyuyne

Or other due thynges that longe to theyr seruyce.

Techynge the people to vertue to enclyne

Than these folys as it were rorynge swyne

With theyr gettynge and talys of vycyousnes

Trouble all suche seruyce, that is sayd, more and les

In to the churche than comys another sote

Without deuocyon gettynge vp and downe

Or to be sene, and to showe his gardyd cote

Another on his fyst a Sparhauke or fawcon

Or els a Cokow, and so wastynge his shone

Before the auters he to and fro doth wander

With euyn as great deuocyon as a gander

In comys another his houndes at his tayle

With lynes and leshes and other lyke baggage.

His dogges barkyth, so that withouten fayle

The hole churche is troubled by theyr outrage

So innocent youth lernyth the same of age

And theyr lewde sounde doth the churche fyll.

But in this noyse the good people kepe them styll.

One tyme the hawkys bellys Jenglyth hye

Another tyme they flutter with theyr wynges

And nowe the houndes barkynge strykes the skye

Nowe sounde theyr fete, and nowe the chaynes rynges

They clap with theyr handes, by suche maner thynges

They make of the churche, for theyr hawkes a mewe

And Canell to theyr dogges, whiche they shall after rewe

So with suche folys is neyther peas nor rest

Unto the holy churche they haue no reuerence

But wander about to see who get may best

In rybawde wordes pryde and insolence

As mad men they fere nat our sauyours presence

Hauynge no honour vnto that holy place

Wherin is gyuen to man euerlastynge grace

There ar handlyd pledynges and causes of the lawe

There ar made bargayns of dyuers maner thynges

Byenges and sellynges scant worth a hawe

And there ar for lucre contryued false lesynges

And whyle the prest his Masse or matyns synges

These folys whiche to the Churche do repayre

Ar chattynge and bablynge as it were in a fayre

Some gygyll and lawghe and some on maydens stare

And some on wyues with wanton countenaunce

As for the seruyce they haue small force or care

But full delyte them in theyr mysgouernaunce

Some with theyr slyppers to and fro doth prance

Clappynge with their helys in churche and in quere

So that good people can nat the seruyce here

What shall I wryte of maydens and of wyues

Of theyr roundynges and vngoodly comonynge

Howe one a sclaundre craftely contryues

And in the churche therof hath hyr talkynge

The other hath therto theyr erys lenynge

And than whan they all hath harde forth hir tale

With great deuocyon they get them to the ale.

Thus is the churche defylyd with vylany

And in stede of prayer and godly oryson

Ar vsyd shamefull bargayns and talys of rybawdry

Jettynges and mockynges and great derysyon

There fewe ar or none of perfyte deuocion

And whan our lorde is consecrate in fourme of brede

Therby walkes a knaue, his bonet on his hede

And whyle those wordes of consecracion

Ar sayde of the preste in goddes owne presence

Suche caytyfs kepe talys and communycacion

Fast by the auter, thynkynge it none offence

And where as the angels ar ther with reuerence

Laudynge and worshyppynge our holy sauyour

These vnkynde caytyfs wyll scantly hym honour

Alas wherto shall any man complayne

For this foly and accostomed furour

Syns none of them theyr fautes wyll refrayne

But ay procede in this theyr lewde errour

And nat withstandynge that Christ our sauyour

Hath left vs example, that none sholde mysdo

Within the chirche, yet inclyne we nat therto.

Jhonn the euangelyst doth openly expres.

Howe criste our sauyour dyd dryue out and expell

From the Temple, suche as vsed there falsnes

And all other that therin dyd bye and sell

Saynge as it after lyeth in the Gospell

Unto the Jues rebuke and great repreues

That of goddes house they made a den of theues.

Remember this man, for why thou dost the same

Defylynge goddes Chirche with synne and vanyte

Whiche sothly was ordeyned to halowe goddes name

And to lawde and worshyp the holy trynyte

With deuout harte, loue, and all benygnyte

And with all our myght our lorde to magnyfy

And than after all the heuenly company

For this cause hath god the holy chirche ordeyned

And nat for rybawde wordes and thynges vayne

But by vs chrysten men it is distayned.

Moche wors than euer, the Jewes dyd certayne

And if our lorde sholde nowe come downe agayne.

To dryue out of the churche suche as there do syn

Forsoth I thynke, right fewe sholde byde within

The Enuoy To the Reders.

O man that bostest thy selfe in cristes name

Callynge the christen, se thou thy synne refuse

Remember well it is both synne and shame

The house of god, thus to defyle and abuse

But this one thynge causeth me oft to muse

That the false paynyms within theyr Temples be

To theyr ydols moche more deuout than we

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