Selected quad for the lemma: world_n
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A02812
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The conuercyon of swerers
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Hawes, Stephen, d. 1523?
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1531
(1531)
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STC 12944; ESTC S106022
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5,283
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18
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ye wolde full gentylly Obey my byddynge well and perfytely The wordely kynges hauynge the soueraynte Ye do well obey without resystence Ye dare not take theyr names in vanyte But with grete honoure and eke reuerence Thou my name more hye of magnyfycence Ye ought more to drede whiche am kynge of all Bothe god and man and regne celestyall None erthely man loueth you so well As I do whiche mekely enclyne For to redeme you frome the fendes of hell Takynge your kynde by my godhede dyuyne You were the fendes I dyde make you myne For you swete bretherne I was on the rode Gyuynge my body my herte and my blode Than why do ye in euery maner of place With cruell othes tere my body and herte My sydes and woundes it is a pyteous cace Alas swete bretherne I wolde you conuerte For to take vengeaunce ye do me coherte From the hous of swerers shall not be absente The plage of Iustyce to take punysshment Vnde Ecclesiastici xxxiii Vir multuÌ„ iurans imple bitur iniquitate et non descendet a domo plaga A man moche swerynge with grete iniquite Shall be replete and from his mancyon The plage of pest ylence shall not seased be Wherfore ye bretherne full of abusyon Take good hede to this dyscrecyon Come now to me and aske forgyuenes And be penitent and haue it doubtles ¶ Augustinus Non potest male mori qui bene vixit et vir bene moritur qui male vixit Who in this worlde lyueth well and ryghtwysly Shall dye well by ryght good knowlegynge Who in this worlde lyueth wrongfully Shall hardely scape to haue good endynge I do graunte mercy but no tyme enlongynge Wherfore good bretherne whyle that ye haue space A mende your lyfe and come vnto my grace My wordes my prelates vnto you do preche For to conuerte you from your wretchednes But lytell auayleth you now for to teche The worlde hath cast you in suche blyndnes Lyke vnto stones your hartes hath hardenes That my swete wordes may not reconsyle Your hertes harde with mortall synne so vyle Wo worthe your hertes so planted in pryde Wo worthe your wrathe and mortall enuy Wo worthe slouthe that dothe with you abyde Wo worthe also immesurable glotony Wo worthe your tedyous synne of lechery Wo worthe you whome I gaue tre wyll Wo worthe couetyse that dothe your soules spyll Wo worthe shorte ioye cause of payne eternall Wo worthe you that be so peruerted Wo worthe your pleasures in your synnes mortall Wo worthe you for whome I sore smerted Wo worthe you euer but ye be conuerted Wo worthe you whose makynge I repent Wo worthe your horryble synne so vyolent Wo worthe you whiche do me forsake Wo worthe you whiche wyllyngly offende Wo worthe your swerynge whiche doth not aslake Wo worthe you whiche wyll nothynge amende Wo worthe vyce that on you doth atttende Wo worthe your grete vnkyndnes to me Wo worth your hertes withouten pyte Wo worthe your falshode and doublenesse Wo worthe also your corrupte iugement Wo worthe delyte in worldly rychesse Wo worthe debate without extynguysshement Wo worthe your wordes so moche impacyent Wo worthe you vnto whome I dyde boote And wo worthe you that tere me at harte roote Blessyd be ye that loue hum ylyte Blessyd be ye that loue trouthe and pacyence Blessyd be ye folowynge the werkes of equyte Blessyd be ye that loue well abstynence Blessyd be ye byrgyngs of excellence Blessyd be ye whiche loue well vertu Blessyd be ye whiche dothe the worlde eschue Blessyd be ye that heuenly ioye do loue Blessyd be ye in vertuous gouernaunce Blessyd be ye whiche do pleasures reproue Blessyd be ye that consyder my greuaunce Blessyd be ye whiche do take repeâ—taunce Blessyd be ye remembrynge my passyon Blessyd be ye makynge petycyon Blessyd be ye folowynge my trace Blessyd be ye louynge trybulacyon Blessyd be ye not wyllynge to trespace Blessyd be ye of my castygacyon Blessyd be ye of good operacyon Blessyd be ye vnto me ryght kynde Blessyd be you whiche haue me in your mynde Blessyd be ye leuynge euyll company Blessyd be ye hauntynge the vertuous Blessyd be ye that my name magnyfy Blessyd be ye techynge the vycyous Blessyd be ye good and relygous Blessyd be ye in lyfe temperall Whiche applye your selfe to ioye celestyall The byrtyll worlde ryght often transmutable Who wyll it in this lyfe and tyme well spende Shall ioye attayne after inestymable For in this worlde he must fyrst condyscende To take grete payne as his power wyll extende Agaynst the worlde the flesshe and the deuyll By my grete grace for to withstande theyr euyll For who can be a greter fole than he That spendeth his tyme to hym vncertayne For a breuyat pleasure of worldly vanyte Than after that to haue eternall payne Who of the worlde delyteth and is fayne Shall after sorowe and crye ve be In another worlde quante sunt tenebre Who is wyser than he that wyll applye In the worlde take grete payne by due dylygence After shorte payne to come grete glorye Whiche is eterne moost hye of excellence Where he shall se my grete magnyfycence With many aungelles whiche for theyr solace Insacyately do beholde my face Regarde no Ioye of erthely consystory For lyke as phebus dothe the snowe relente So passyth the ioyes of the worlde transytory Tyme renneth fast tyll worldely lyfe be spente Consyder this in your entendemente Blessyd be they that my wordes do here And kepe it well / for they are to me dere Therfore good brederne your hertes enclyne To loue and drede me that am omnipotent Bothe god and man in ioye celestyne Beholde my body all to torne and rente With your spytefull othes cruell and vyolent I loue you ye hate me ye are to harde harted I helpe you ye tere me lo how for you I smarted Mercy and peas dyde make and vnyte Bytwene you and me but trouthe ryght wysnesse Do now complayne byddynge my goohede se How that ye breke the lege of soth fastnesse They tell me that by iustyce doubtelesse I must take vengeaunce vpon you sykerly That by your swerynge agayne me crucyfy For at the request of good mercy and pease I haue forborne you longe and many a daye Yet more and more your synnes do encrease Wherfore my iustyce wyll no more delaye But take vengeaunce for all your proude araye I warne you ofte ye are nothynge the better But ye amende my vengeaunce shall be gretter ¶ Contra iuratores xê‘m iÌ„ celo crucifigeÌ„tes per ber narduÌ„ dixit duÌ„s Nonne satis prote vulneratus suÌ„ noÌ„ne satis afflictê° suÌ„edesine aÌ„pliê° peccare qr magis aggrauat vulnus peccati ê™ vulnus lateris mee Am not I wounded for the suffycyent Haue I not for the ynoughe affeccyon Leue more to synne by good amendement The wounde of synne to me is more passyon Than the wounde of my syde for thy redempcyon Thoughe I do spare I shall not desteny But ye amende to brenne eternally With my blody wounde I dyde your charter seale Why do ye tere it why do ye breke it so Syth it to you is the eternall heale And the relefe of euer lastynge wo Beholde this lettre with the prynte also Of myne owne seale by perfyte portrayture Prynte it in mynde and ye shall helthe recure And ye kynges and lordes of renowne Exhorte your seruauntes theyr swerynge to cease Come vnto me and cast your synne adowne And I my vengeaunce shall truely release With grace and plente I shall you encrease And brynge you whiche reuolue inwardely This my complaynte to eternall glory AMEN ¶ The auctoure Go lytell treatyse deuoyde of eloquence Tremblynge for drede to approche the maieste Of our souerayne lorde surmountynge in excelleÌ„ce But vnder the wynge of his benygnyte Submyttynge the to his mercyfull pety And beseche his grace to pardon thy rudenes Whiche of late was made to eschewe ydelnes ¶ Thus endeth the conuersyon of swerers made compyled by Stephen Hawys grome of the chambre of our souerayne lorde kynge Henry the seuenth ¶ Imprynted at London in Fletestrete at the sygne of saynt Iohan euaÌ„gelyste by me Iohan Butler
¶ The Conuercyon of swerers †THe frutefull senteÌ„ce the noble werkes To our doctryne wry teÌ„i olde aÌ„tyquyte By many gret ryght notable clerkes GrouÌ„ded on reason and hygh auctoryte Dyde gyue vs example by good moralyte To folowe the trace of trouth and ryght wysnes Leuynge our synne and mortall wrechednes By theyr wrytynge doth to vs appere The famous actes of many a champyon In the courte of fame renowned fayre and clere And some endyted theyr entencyon Cloked in coloure harde in construccyon Specyally poetes vnder cloudy fygures Couered the trouthe of all theyr scryptures So hystoryagraphes all the worthy dedes Of kynges and knyghtes dyde put in wrytynge To be in mende for theyr memoryall medes How sholde we now haue knowledgynge Of thynges past / but by theyr end ytynge Wherfore we ought to prayse them doubteles That spent theyr tyme in suche good busynes Amonge all other my good mayster Lydgate The eloquent poete and monke of bury Dyde bothe contryue and also translate Many vertues bokes to be in memory Touchynge the trouthe well and sentencyously But syth that his deth was intollerable I praye god rewarde hym in lyfe perdurable Amonge all thynges nothynge so profytable As is scyence with the sentencyous scrypture For wordely rychesse is often transmutable As dayly dothe appere well in vre Yet scyence abydeth and is moost sure After pouerte to attayne grete rycheste Scyence is cause of promocyon doubtelesse I lytell or nought experte in poetry Remembrynge my yough so lyght frayle Purpose to compyle here full breuyatly A lytell treatyse wofull to be wayle The cruell swerers whiche do god assayle On euery syde his swete body to tere With terryble othes as often as they swere But also for drede plonged in neclygence My penne doth quake to presume to endyte But hope at laste to recure this scyence Exorteth me ryght herdely to wryte To deuoyde ydelnesse by good appetyte For ydelnesse the grete moder of synne Euery vyce is vedy to lette ynne I with the same ryght gretâ—ly infecte Lykely to dye tyll grace by medycyne Recured my sekenes my payne to abiecte Commanndynge me by her hye power deuyne To drawe this treatyse for to enliunyne The reders therof by penytencyall â—yte And to pardon me of theyr benyguyte RYght myghty prynces of euery crysteÌ„ regyon I sende you gretynge moche hartely grace Ryght well to gouerne vpryght your domynyon And all your lordes I grete in lyke cace By this my letter you hertes to enbrace Besechynge you to prynte it in your mynde Now for your sake I toke on me mankynde And as a lambe moost mekely dyde enclyne To suffre the deth for your redempcyon And ye my kynges whiche do now domyne Ouer my comens in terrestryall mancyon By pryncely premynence and iuredyccyon In your regall courtes do suffre me be rent And my tender body with blode all be sprent Without my grace ye maye nothynge preuayle Thoughe ye be kynges for to mayntene your see To be a kynge it maye nothynge auayle But yt my grace preserue his dygnyte Behâ—lde your seruauntes howe they do tere me By cruell othes nowe vpon euery syde Aboute the worlde launsynge my woundes wyde All the graces whiche I haue you shewed Reuolue in mynde ryght ofte ententyfly Beholde my body with blody droppes endewed Within your realmes nowe torne sâ—pyteously Towsed and tugged with othes cruelly Some my heed some myne armes and face Some my herte do all to rent and race They newe agayne do hange me on the rode They tere my sydes and are nothynge dysmayde My woundes they do open and deuoure my blode I god and man moost wofully arayde To you complayne it maye not be denayde Ye nowe to tugge me / ye tere me at the roote Yet I to you am chefe refuyte and bote Wherfore ye kynges reygnynge in renowne Refourme your seruauntes in your courte abused To good example of euery maner towne So that theyr othes whiche they longe haue vsed On payne and punysshement be holly refused Meke as a lambe I suffred theyr grete wronge I may take vengeaunce though I tary longe I do forhere I wolde haue you amende And graunte you mercy and ye wyll it take O my swete bretherne why do ye offende Agayne to tere me whiche dyed for your sake Lose my kyndnes and from synne a wake I dyde redeme you from the deuylles chayne And spyte of me ye wyll to them agayne Made I not heuen the moost gloryous mancyon In whiche I wolde be gladde to haue you in Now come swete bretherne to myne habytacyon Alas good bretherne with your mortall synne Why flee ye frome to tourne agayne begynne I wrought you / I bought you / ye can it not denye Yet to the deuyll ye go now wyllyngly See Me Be kynde ¶ Agayne My payne Retayne in mynde ¶ My swete bloode On the roode Dyde the goode my broder ¶ My face ryght redde Myne armes spredde My woundes bledde Thynke none other ¶ Beholde thou my syde Wounded so ryght wyde Bledynge sore that tyde All for thyn owne sake ¶ Thus for the I smerted Why arte thou harde herted Be by me conuerted thy sweryng aslake ¶ Tere me now no more My woundes are sore Leue swerynge therfore and come to my grace ¶ I am redy To graunte mercy To the truely For thy trespace ¶ Come now nere My frende dere And appere before me ¶ I so In wo Dyde go Se se ¶ I Crye Hye The Vnto me dere broder my loue and my herte Tourmente me no more with thy othes grete Come vnto me my ioye and agayne reuerte From the deuylles snare and his subtell nette Beware of the worlde all aboute the sette The flesshe is redy by concupycence To burne thy herte with cursed vyolence Thoughe these thre enemyes do sore the assayle Vpon euery syde with daungerous iniquite But yf thou lyst they may nothynge preuayle Nor yet subdue the with all theyr extremyte To do good or yll all is at thy lyberte I do graunte the grace thyne enymyes to subdue Swete broder accepte it theyr power to extue And ye kynges and prynces of hye noblenes With dukes and lordes of euery dygnyte Indued with manhode wysoome and ryches Ouer the comons hauynge the soueraynte Correcte them whiche so do tere me By cruell othes without repentaunce Amende by tyme lest I take vengeaunce ¶ Exodi vicesimo Non accipies nomen dei cui in vanum Vnto the man I gaue commaundement Not to take the name of thy god vaynfully As not to swere but at tyme conuenyent Before a Iuge to bere recorde truely Namynge my name with reuerence mekely Vnto the Iuge than there in presence By my name to gyue good credence A my bretherne yf that I be wrothe It is for cause ye falsly by me swere Ye knowe your selfe that I am the very trouthe Yet wrongefully ye do me rent and tere Ye neyther loue me nor my iustyce fere And yf ye dyde