The Ship of Fools, Volume 1

by Sebastian Brant

Of to moche spekynge or bablynge.

He that his tunge can temper and refrayne
And asswage the foly of hasty langage
Shall kepe his mynde from trowble, sadnes and payne
And fynde therby great ease and auauntage
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.

Ye blaberynge folys superflue of langage

Come to our shyp our ankers ar in wayde

By right and lawe ye may chalange a stage

To you of Barklay it shall nat be denayde

Howe be it the charge Pynson hathe on me layde

With many folys our Nauy not to charge.

Yet ye of dewty shall haue a sympyll barge

Of this sorte thousandes ar withouten fayle

That haue delyte in wordes voyde and vayne

On men nat fawty somtyme vsynge to rayle

On folysshe wordes settynge theyr herte and brayne

They often touche to theyr owne shame and payne

Suche thynges to whiche none wyll theyr mynde aply

(Saue suche folys) to theyr shame and enuy

Say besy fole art thou nat well worthy

To haue enuy, and that echone sholde the hate

Whan by thy wordes soundynge to great foly

Thou sore labrest to engender debate

Some renneth fast thynkynge to come to late

To gyue his counsell whan he seeth men in doute

And lyghtly his folysshe bolt shall be shot out

Is it nat 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 aduersyte

A worde ones spokyn reuoked can nat be

Therfore thy fynger lay before thy lypes

For a wyse mannys tunge, without aduysement trypes

He that wyll answere of his owne folysshe brayne

Before that any requyreth his counsayle

Shewith hym selfe and his hasty foly playne

Wherby men knowe his wordes of none auayle

Some haue delyted in mad blaborynge and frayle

Whiche after haue suffred bytter punysshement

For their wordes, spoken without aduysement

Say what precedeth of this mad outrage

But great mysfortune, wo and vnhappynesse

But for all theyr chattynge and plenty of langage

Whan to the preste they come them to confesse

To shewe theyr lewde lyfe theyr synne and wretchydnes

Whan they sholde speke, and to this poynt ar come

Theyr tunges ar loste and there they syt as domme

Many haue ben whiche sholde haue be counted wyse

Sad and discrete, and right well sene in scyence

But all they haue defyled with this one vyse

Of moche spekynge: o cursyd synne and offence

Pyte it is that so great inconuenience

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 nat speke, but ar as coy and styll

As the horle wynde or clapper or a mylle

But that man or woman or any creature

That lytell speketh or els kepeth sylence

Ar euer of them selfe moste stedfast and sure

Without enuy, hatred or malyuolence.

Where as to suche comys moche inconuenyence

Sorowe vpon sorowe, malyce and dysdayne

Whiche wyll no tyme, his speche nor tunge refrayne

Fayre speche is pleasaunt if it be moderate

And spoken in season, conuenyente and dewe

To kepe scylence, to pore man or estate

Is a great grace, and synguler vertue

Langage is lawdable whan it is god and true

A wyse man or he speke wyll be wyse and ware

What (to whome) why (howe) whan and whare

Barklaye to the Folys.

Ye bablynge brybours, endeuer you to amende

Mytygat by mesure, your prowde hasty langage

Kepe well your tunges so, shall ye kepe your frende

For hasty speche ingendreth great damage

Whan a worde is nat sayd, the byrde is in the cage

Also the hous is surest whan the dorys be barryde

So whan thy worde is spokyn and out at large

Thou arte nat mayster, but he that hath it harde

If thou take hede and set therto thy brayne

In this world thou shalt fynde thynges thre

Whiche ones past, can nat be callyd agayne.

The firste is (tyme lost) by mannes symplycyte

The seconde (youth) reuoked can nat be

The thyrde (a worde spoken) it gooth out in the wynde

And yet is the fourth, that is (virginyte)

My forgetfull mynde, had lefte it nere behynde

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