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A16801
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A true description of vnthankfulnesse: or an enemie to ingratitude. Compiled by Nicholas Breton Gent
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Breton, Nicholas, 1545?-1626?
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1602
(1602)
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STC 3703; ESTC S116188
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4,001
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15
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A TRVE DESCRIPTION of vnthankfulnesse Or an enemie to Ingratitude Compiled by Nicholas Breton Gent. AT LONDON Printed by Thomas Este. 1602. M. M MORE worth then Vertue can no creature know A A Phaenix in the world there is but one R Rare is the Bird and though there be no mo Y Yet may you finde hir when you are alone G. G GREAT is the Grace that in the spirit liueth A And such a life is worthy honors loue T The perfect good that heau'nly mercie giueth E Elected Virgins in the heau'ns aboue To the Right VVorshipfull Vertuous and Noble minded Gentlewoman Mistris Mary Gate Daughter to that true worthie Knight of Honorable remembraunce Sir Henry Gate of Semer. N. B. wisheth all happinesse on Earth and Heauen heereafter A Vertuous minde can not bee without hir honor nor an vngratefull spirit without a burthen of Conscience the first in your selfe is made manifest to many the second in my selfe I wish not to liue to bee touched with but yet not able to requite those your Honourable fauours that I haue receiued yet vndeserued giue mee leaue in this little fruit of my labour to present you with this token of my thanckfulnesse wherein treating onely of the vile Nature of Ingratitude I hope not to bee found guiltie in that offence And so wishing you your desert of Honour of the best mindes and the vngratefull the plague of an vnquiet Conscience or amendement of their euill conditions in continuall prayer for your harts euer Contentment I rest Yours bounden to command Nicholas Breton To the Reader HEE that is vnthankfull for a good turne sheweth the venime of a vile Nature and hee that is kindly gratefull is worthie to bee beeloued if you bee of the last condition I commend you if of the first God amend you What you are I know not but I hope the best the worst I desire not to heare off And therefore in briefe the Treatise beeing short I will not trouble you to long but as I finde your kindnesse will rest in thankfulnesse Your friend Nicholas Breton Ingratis seruire Nefas OF all the sinnes that euer raign'd Since wickednesse hir world began That Natures beautie most hath stain'd Within the wretched hart of Man And neerest doth to hell allude Is that of fowle Ingratitude It kills the Eie of Reasons sight With fowle obliuions foggy mists And makes the spirit to delight But in the harmes of had I wists And mires the soule in sinnes fowle flud While lack of grace can see no good It studies onely to destroie A gentle spirit with despight And knowes no part of Heauenly ioy That pleads so in the Diuels right It is a hagge that heauens doe hate And dwels but with the Reprobate It bringeth foorth such shamefull Euill Out of the shamelesse wicked minde As by suggestion of the Diuell Makes Nature goe against hir kinde When Men that should bee Vertues friends Become but Machauilian fiends There is no thought can bee so vile Nor word can sound so ill a worth Nor cursed state so ill a stile As can Ingratitude set foorth Which was the curse of Adams seede And neuer since did better deede VVhere it doth once infect the hart The Sonne doth wish the Fathers death The Wife doth seeke the Husbands mart The Brother stops the Sisters breath The Neighbour and the neerest friend Will plot each others speedy end It makes the Seruant to forget His duty to his Maisters loue The Subiect all his wits to set Rebellion to his Prince to proue The Villaine for a Comfortlent For to beetraie the Innocent It maketh Man forget his God In whom alone hee hath his beeing His Comfort and his Mercies Rod Whereof his Soule can haue no seeing Vntill to late in hell he findes How God doth hate vngratefull mindes Oh what it doth or doth it not That may agrieue an honest minde To see the power that Sinne hath got Vpon the curse of humane kinde While Comfort Kindnesse Care and Cost Vpon vnthankfulnesse are lost Oh Hellish Worme that eates the wombe Wherein it lay to looke abroade And plots the Meane to make his Tombe Whose house had beene his chiefe aboade While faithlesse friends make hellish fiends God send all Iudasses such ends A King that on a time ordain'd A punishment for euery vice Was asked why hee did refraine On this to set downe his deuice It is quod hee beeyond my wit I leaue to God to punish it As who should say the sinne were such As did all other so exceede That were the torment nere so much It were no more then it did neede That all the world might warning winne To flie the thought of such a sinne Oh how much worse then any Beast It makes the shape of Man to proue For shape is most and Man is least That so doth swarue from Natures loue And in the hate of honours Nature Becomes the worst of any creature Fie fie vpon Ingratitude The Sinne of Sinnes that euer was That doth the soule to much delude And brings the world to such a passe That lack of loues Gratuitie Hath almost worne out Charitie Of Wormes the Viper is the worst That eates the Bowells that did breed him Of Birds the Cuckoe most accurst That kils the Sparrow that did feed him And is not Man more halfe a Diuell That so requiteth good with Euill A poore Man going to a wood Within the Snow an Adder found When wishing how to doe it good Did take it vp from off the ground And fearing of no future harme Did in his bosome keepe it warme But comming home vnto the fire No sooner hee had loosde his Coate But to requite his kinde desire The Adder bit him by the throate Now whereto doth this tale alude But onely to Ingratitude There was a Lyon as I reade Who had a Thorne got in his foote Which in his trauaile fore did bleede While to his hart the payne did shoote With which vnto his Denne hee came And fell to licking of the same When as hee stoode hee spied a Man VVho had beene thether fled for feare And in his hart with griefe beegan To mourne his haplesse beeing there Yet seeing how the Lyon stoode Aduentured to doe him good And feeling softly where it stucke So cunningly did beate about As with his mouth first fell to sucke Then with his Teeth did get it out And after did such help apply That hee was eased by and by And when the Lyon felt such ease Hee reacht him out a Princely Pawe As who should say to such as please I carry comfort in my Clawe And to requite his kindnesse then Hee led him foorth out of his Den. And brought him through a wildernesse Into a high way neere a towne When in a Princely gentlenesse Before his face hee sat him downe And with his Pawe as Poets tell Did giue a Kingly kinde farewell Now shortly after it befell This Lyon was by hunters caught And as the story