The frutefull sent[en]ce & the noble werkes

The frutefull sent[en]ce & the noble werkes To our doctryne wryt[en] [in] olde [an]tyquyte By many gret & ryght notable clerkes Gro[un]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 endytynge 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 prouffytable As is scyence with the sentencyous scrypture For worldly rychesse is often transmutable As dayly dothe appere well in vre [Th]et scyens a bydeth and is moost sure After pouerte to attayne grete rychesse Scyens is cause of promocion doubtles

I lytell or nought expert in poetrye Remembrynge my youth so lyght and frayle Purpose to compyle here full breuyatly A lytell treatyse wofull to bewayle The cruell swerers which do god assayle On euery syde his swete body to tere With terryble othes as often as they swere

But all for drede plonged in neclygence My penne dothe quake to presume to endyte But hope at laste to recure this scyence Exorteth me ryght hardely to wryte To deuoyde ydlenesse by good appetyte For ydlenesse the grete moder of synne Euery vyce is redy to lette ynne

I with the same ryght gretely infecte Lykely to deye tyll grace by medecyne Recured my sekenes my payne to abiecte Commaundynge me by her hye power deuyne To drawe this treatyse for to enlumyne The reders therof by penytencyall pyte And to pardon me of theyr benygnyte

Ryght myghty pr[yn]ces of euery crysten regy[on] I sende you gretynge moche hertly & grace Right wel to gouern vpright your domini[on] And all your lordes I greete in lyke cace By this my lettre your hertes to enbrace Besechynge you to prynte it in your mynde How for your sake I toke on me mankynde

And as a lambe moost mekely dyde enclyne To suffre the dethe for your redempcyon And ye my kynges whiche do nowe domyne Ouer my comons in terrestryall mancyon By pryncely preemynence and Iuredyccyon In your regall courtes do suffre me be rente And my tender body with blode all besprente

Without my grace ye maye nothynge preuayle Though ye be kynges for to mayntene your see To be a kynge it may nothynge auayle Buy yf my grace preserue his dygnyte Beholde your seruauntes how they do tere me By cruell othes now vpon euery syde Aboute the worlde launcynge my woundes wyde

All the graces whiche I haue you shewed Reuoule in mynde ryght ofte ententyfly Beholde my body with blody droppes endewed Within your realmes nowe torne so pyteously Towsed and tugged with othes cruelly Some my heed some myn armes and face Some my herte do all to rente and race

They newe agayne do hange me on the rode They tere my sydes and are nothynge dysmayde My woundes they open and deuoure my blode I god and man moost wofully arayde To you complayne it maye not be denayde Ye nowe do tug me / ye tere me at the roote Yet I to you am chefe refuyte and boote

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 suffre theyr grete wronge I maye take vengeaunce thoughe I tary longe

I do forbere I wolde haue you amende And graunte you mercy and ye wyll it take O my swete brederne why do ye offende Agayne to tere me whiche deyed for your sake Lo se my kyndenes and frome synne awake I dyde redeme you from the deuylles chayne And spyte of me ye wyll to hym agayne

Made I not heuen the moost gloryous mansyon In whiche I wolde be gladde to haue you in Now come swete bretherne to myn habytacyon Alas good brederne with your mortall synne Why flee ye from me / to torne agayne begynne I wrought you I bought you ye can it not denye Yet to the deuyll ye go nowe wyllyngly