PASQVILL. PASQVILL VS. GNATO. HARPOCRATES. PASQVILL.

IT is a wōder to se the world: Now adayes, the more straunge, the better lyked, therfore vnnethe a man may knowe an honeste man from a false harlotte. But peace, who is this gentilman, that standeth here harkenynge? what I say myn olde felowe [...]a [...]h [...], I pray the come forthe, ye steale not so away. Perdye I knowe youre olde fascion, though ye be nowe thus straūgely disguised.

who speaketh to me [...] Pasquill? Sawest thou not Harpocra­tes late? I seeke for hym, he muste come to my mayster.

I wote not whether thyne eye soughte for Har­pocrates, but sure I am, that thyne eare soughte for Pasquillus. But I praye the tourne about: thou haste the str [...]ngest ap­paraile that euer I loked on: what haue we here? A cappe ful of aglettes and bot­tons, this longe estrige fether doeth won­derly wel, the tirfe of the cappe tourned downe afore like a pentise hathe a maruai­lous good grace: but this longe gowne with strayte sleues, is a non sequitur, and [Page] it shall lette you to flee, and than youre fe­thers shal stande you in no stede, and soo moughte ye happen to be combred, yf ye shulde come in to astoure, where ye wolde shyft for youre selfe. God a vowe wharte doste thou with this longe typpete? If it were whyte as it is blacke, I wolde haue sayde, thou camest to challenge menne at wrastlyng, but I wene ye haue walked late in the strete, and pulled it from some wor­shypfull doctour. What a gods name, haue ye a booke in youre hand? A good felowe­shyp wherof is it? Let me se. No [...]um stes­tamentum? What, thou deceiuest me, I had w [...]nde thou couldest haue skylled of no­thinge, but onely of flaterye. But what is this in youre bosom? An other boke, or els a payre of cardes of valery [...]alsehed? Dyd I not saye at the fyrste, that it is a wonder to se this worlde? Lo some will be in the bowelles of diuinitie or they knowe what belongethe to good humanytie. Let se, what is here? Troylus? Chreseid? Lorde what discord is bytwene these two bokes? yet a great dele more is there in thine aparayl. And yet most of al betwene the boke in thy hand, and thy condiciones. As god helpe me, as moch as betwene trouth and leasinge,

well Pasquillus, thou wylt neuer leue thyn olde custome in ray­lynge. [Page] Yet haste thou wyt ynough to per­ceyue what domage and hyndraunce thou haste thereby susteyned: and more art thou likely and with greater perill, if thou haue not good awayte, what, and to whome, and where thou spekest. I herde the wor­des that thou spakeste whyle ere, wherof if I wolde be a reporter, it mought tourne the to no littell displeasure: but I knowe that thou arte a good felowe, and woldeste that al thing were wel, though thy wordes be all crabbed. Wherefore not withstan­ding that thou speakest rebukefully to me, I take it in iape, [...]e wyll cary hense with me the presumtuous wordes that thou spakeste. But by myne aduise seue now at the last thin vndiscret liberty in speche, wher­in thou vsest vnprofitable taūtes and rebu­kes, I may well calle them vnprofytable, wherby nothynge that thou blamist, is of one iote amended, and thou loseste therby preferment, which thyne excellente wit [...]e doth require: and that wors is, trauaylest in study of minde to augmente then owne detriment, and therin losist moche tyme, that mought be better employed.

¶I remembre, that ones I asked a man, that was wyse and very well lerned, howe I mought soneste come to promotion: he sayde: vsynge Aeschylus counsaylle, whi­che [Page] was a writar of tragedies: and I de­manded, what it was? And he answered, holding thy tonge where it behoueth the. And spekynge in tyme that whiche is con­uenient. And the same lesson Pasquillus, if thou woldeste obserue, I doute not, but that thou shuldest finde therin no litel cō ­modity.

Mary Gnato, I wyll no more wonder at thy syde gowne: for thou arte moche wyser than I supposed: I had wende all this while, that by nature onely thou haddest ben instructed to flatter, but by saynt Ione I se now, that thou ioynest also therto a shrewde wyt, and preparest to the helpinge therof, as it were a crafte gathered of lernynge and scripture. Not withstandinge a good feloweshyp, if thy taryeng shall not be greuouse or hurtefull vnto the (for I knowe howe expedient it is that thou be not longe out of the syght of thy mayster, if thou wylt be Gnatho a­lone) tell me how thou vnderstandest the sayde sentence of Aeschylus tragedy: for I feare we two do vnderstond hym dyuer­sely, & than thy counsaile in respecte to thy purpose shal lytel profyte me.

Supposeste thou so? In good faythe, and to me it semeth so playne, that it nedethe none expositor, but to the intent that my counsayll to the may take some effecte, in [Page] the lyttell tyme that I may nowe tary, I wyl as compendiously as I can, shewe my conceyte, in declaryng what I thinke, that Aeschilus mente by the sayde sentence.

¶It behoueth a man to holde his tonge, whan he aforeseethe by any experyence, that the thynge, which he wolde purpose or speke of to his superioure, shall neyther be pleasantly herd, nor thankefully taken. And in wordes oportunitie and tyme al­way do depend on the affection and appe­tite of hym that herethe them. How saiest thou Pasquill, is it not so?

So? No so mote I go. But one thinge here me, I wyll nat flatter the Gnatho. If thou vn­derstandest no better the newe testament (which thou cariest as solemnely with the, as thou shuldeste rede a priuy lesson, hem, I had almoste tolde where openly) than thou doest Aeschilus sentence, whiche as if thou haddest bene lerned, thou toldest to me for a counsaylle, thy brethe wyll be so hote shortly, that thou wylt make men aferde to come within twenty fote of the. And harke in thyne eare. By my trouth, I wene it be neyther better nor warse.

Wyl ye not leue youre ouerthwart facion. I can no more. I se it is wayne to counsaile a mad man to loke to his profite. Fare well, I haue somwhat els to do, than [Page] to attende to thy pratynge.

What be you angry for this? Loke on the boke in youre hande: perdy it agreeth not with your profession to be out of charitie. But gentyll Gnatho tary soo long as I maye shewe the howe I vnderstande the sayde sentence of Aeschilus.

Say on.

¶Where two hostes be assembled, and in poynte to fyght: if thou be amonge them, thoughe thou be a great astronomer, it be­houethe the to holde thy tunge, and not to talke of coniunctions, and of the tryne or quartil aspectes, but to prepare the to ba­taylle. Where a good felowshyp is sette at dyce or at cardes, thoughe thou be lerned in geometry: holde thy tunge, and speake not of proporcions or figures. Where men be set at a good soupper, and be busily oc­cupied in eatynge and drinkynge, though thou be depely sene in philosophie, holde thy tong, and dispute not of temperaunce, or moderate diete. Where thou art amonge a great companye, at bankettynges or o­ther recreations: though thou be well ler­ned in holy scripture, holde thy tonge, in­terprete not Paules epistels, for therin is no daliaunce.

¶Whan thou arte syttynge in counsayle aboute maters of weyghty importaunce: [Page] talke not than of passetyme or dalyaunce, but omyttinge affection or dreede, speke than to the pourpose.

¶Where thou seeste thy frende in a great presence honoured of al men, though thou knoweste in him notable vices, yet there holde thy tonge, and reproche hym not of them. Where thou [...]eest thy lorde or may­ster in the presence of many, resolued in to fury or wantonnesse, thoughe thou hast all rody aduertisementes, how he shal refraine it: yet holde thy tonge than, for troublyng that presen [...]e.

¶On the other parte. If before batayle ioyned, thou beholdest thy side the weiker and thyne aduersaryes more puissaunt and stronger: speke than of policie, wherby thou hopeste to optayne the vyctory.

¶Before that thy frende syttethe downe to dyce, if thou dost perceyue, that he shal be ouermatched: discorage hym be tyme, or he repente hym in pouerty.

¶Whan thy frendes be set downe to sou­per, before the cuppes be twyse fylled: re­herce the peryll and also dishonesty that hapeneth by glotony.

¶Whā yong men & women haue apointed a banket, than er the ouens be hete, and ta­bles al couered, reherce hardely the sentē ­ces of saint Paul or of saint Hierom, if thou [Page] be lerned.

¶If thou be called to counsayle, after [...]hou hast eyther herde one rayson before the, or at the least weye, in the balaunce of thine owne rayson ponderid the question: spare not to shewe thyne aduyse, and to speke truly, remembringe that god is not so farre of, but that he can here the.

¶If thou knowest a vice in thy frende, which is of a fewe men suspected, er it be talked of at the tauerne, or of his enemy reproched, warne hym of the damage that may happen, if it be not amended.

¶Whan thou perceyuest thy Mayster to be resolued in to wrath or affections dis­honest: Before wrathe be increased in to furye, and affection in to voluptuous ap­petyte. As oportunitie serueth the, reue­rently & with tokens of loue towarde him speke such wordes as shalbe conuenient.

¶Oportunitie consisteth in place or time; where and whan the sayde affections or passion of wrathe be some dele mytygate and out of extremitie. And wordes be cal­led conueniente, which haue respecte to the nature and state of the personne, vnto whom they be spoken, and also to the de­trymente, which mought ensue by the vice or lacke that thou haste espied, & it ought not to be as thou haste supposed. For o [...] portunity [Page] and tyme for a counsayllour to speke, do not depende of the affection and appetyte of hym that is counsayled: mar [...] than counsaylle were but a vayne worde [...] and euery man wolde do as hym lyste. For if he listed not to here any counsayle, he shuld neuer be warned of his owne errour but by saciety and tediousnesse of his own vice, or by grace (if he were worthye to haue it.

Nowe by the faythe I owe to god, I wolde not haue thoughte, that thou haddest bene soo well raysoned. For men haue alway reputed the, but for a babbler and rayler.

Ye what men? By god those, which ought moste to haue thanked me. I saye harke in thyne eare: Popes, emperoures, kynges, and cardi­nalles. Thou hereste what I saye. Whan they, by such as thou and Harpocrates be, were with flatterye and dyssymulation brought in to the hate of god and the peo­ple, ones in a yere, I gaue them warning, neither for menaces, nor yet for beatinges I neuer cessed. Thou arte remembred whā pope Leo sware, that he wold throwe me in to the ryuer of Tyber. And that yere I went to saynct Iames on pilgremage, which I auowed, if I escaped drowning. But in a vnlucky houre was I a pilgreme: for sens there haue comen bothe to saynt [Page] Iames at Compostella, and to saynt Peter at Rome euery yere ten thousande pilgre­mes fewer, thā there did a thousand yeres before that tyme. And menne saye, that in other contreys dyuers monasteryes be lyke to breake hospitalyty, bycause theyr offringes be not the thyrde parte so moch as they were accustomed. For in deede nowe adayes mens deuotion waxeth euen as coulde, as the mounkes be in the quier at midnyght, that commoditye had Rome by myne absence. And yet after my pilgre­mage done, I had for my trouth and plain­nesse as moche pardone of god, as if I had bylded one cloyster in Rome, and an other in Parise, and put in to eueryche of them an hundred friers conuentuals. And yet were that a blessed dede, if the lawe were not agaynst incresinge of valiant beggers. But to my purpose. If these men that we speake of, had wysely and coldely expen­ded and tryed my wordes, that they called rayllynge, many thinges mought haue ben preuented, that were after lamented. Ger­many shulde not haue kicked agaynst her mother: Emperours and princis shulde not haue ben in perpetual discord, and of­ten tymes in peril: prelattes haue bene laughed at, as dissardes: saynctes blasphe­med, and miracles reproued for iugglin­ges, [Page] lawes and statutes contemned, and officers littell regarded. What muste ne­des folowe, sens my breth faile the me? I leue that to the Gnatho to coniect, for thou arte wyse inoughe to consider.

I knowe what thou meaneste, but a felyshyp leaue thy bourdinge and currishe philoso­phie, sens it is neyther profitable, plesant, nor thankfull. Who wolde be so madde to driue about a myll, and is sure, that all the meale, that he gryndeth, shall fall on the floore: sauinge a lyttle mylduste, that shall flie in to his eien, and putte hym to payne, and perchaunce make hym blynde? And thou studiest to speke many good wordes, whiche be lost in the rushes: and if any yll meanynge may be pycked out, it is caste in thy nose to put the in daunger. L [...]se no more laboure Pasquil, but folow my coun­sayle: and if within two yeres thou be not newe paynted and gylt, and haue mo men wonderynge at the, than at any other y­mage in Rome, by my trouthe I wyl stand in the rayne and sonne as longe as thou haste done, and yet it were an vnresonable wager.

Go to lette se, what is thy counsaill?

Mary I wyll telle the. Thou haste a verye sharpe wytte and a­redy: wherfore thou arte mete for the world. And pitie it were, that such a iewel [Page] shulde be neglected.

And pitie i [...] were, that suche a flatterar as thou art, shulde longe be vnhanged. But passe on a goddis name.

I wiste well, that in suche a frowarde piece of tymbre, I shuld lose moche laboure: yet will I proue, if good counsayle may warke any thinge in the. Nowe here Pasquill what I say. By thy longe rayling, thy wit is well knowen. Now tourne the lefe. And whan thou he­reste any thynge purposed by them, whom thou haste offended, what so euer it be, af­firme it to be well, and therwith auaunce the wytte and intent of the persone, that spake it, whiche thou mayste do excel­lently wel. For he that can dispise spitfully, can if he liste, prayse and commend also in­comparably. And if thou canst not refrain from rebukinge and tauntynge: practyse thy naturall fury and woodnesse agayne them that repugne agayne the sayde pur­pose. And where thou dyddest wonder to see me haue in my hande the Newe testa­ment, if thou woldist do the same, and now in thine age, laye aparte the lesson of gen­tyles, called humanitie, sens thou mayste haue good leysour, beinge not yet called to counsaile, picke out here and there sen­tences out of holy scripture, to fournyshe thy reason with authoritie. I make god [Page] auow, thou shalt be within thre monethes able to confounde the greattest diuine in all Italy. And whan thy conuersation and good opinion is knowen, than shalte thou be called for. But than alwaye remembre how so euer the tenoure bel ringeth he ringethe alway in tune, and thoughe he iarre somwhat, yet thou canste not here it, his so [...]ne is so great, and thine eares be so ly­tell. And if other men fynde it, saye that it is no faulte, but a quauer in musicke, and became the bell, if they had the wytte to perceiue it. I teach the in parables, for this crafte wolde not be opened to euery man: for it sholde not be for my profyte: but thy subtill wyt comprehendeth al that I mene, thou art so acquainted with all oure expe­rience.

Nowe on my feyth wel sayd, I coude not haue founden a craftier knaue to lerne of betwene this and Hierusalem. But who comethe here? He semethe a re­uerende personage, he is none of thy sorte I trowe?

By god we be right co­sens, I by the mother syde, and he by the father. And that caused me to speake soo moche as I doo, and him so lyttle, and yet is there smal diuersite betwene oure con­dicions.

What meaneste thou ther­by?

For we bothe haue one mais­ter. And whan he spekethe, or doethe [Page] any thinge for his pleasure: I study with wordes to commende it. If my couseyn stande by, he speketh littell or nothing, but forminge his visage in to a grauitie with sylence, lokethe as if he affirmed all thing, that is spoken.

what is his name?

Harpocrates.

That is a harde name by Iesus. But why holdethe he his finger at his mouthe.

For he hathe espied me talkynge, and bycause he [...]enethe that I speke to moche, he ma­kethe a sygne, that I shulde cesse: but I am gladde, that I haue met with hym. Cosin Harpocrates, I haue sought for you this two houres.

why speketh he not?

O that is his grauitie to pause a while or he speke, he lerned it whan he was student at Bonony.

What is the matter Gnato?

My maister whan he hath dined, wyll syt in counsail aboute waightie causes.

And whan I haue din [...]d, I wil giue attendaunce.

Lo is it not as I sayd, a wonder to se this world? In olde time men vsed to occupy the mor­nynge in deepe and subtile studies, and in counsailes concerninge the cōmune weal, and other matters of great importaunce. In lyke wyse than to here controuersies, and gyue iudgementes. And if they had any causes of theyr owne, than to treate of [Page] them, and that didde they not without a greate consyderation, procedynge bothe of naturall rayson, and also counsayle of ph [...]yke. And after diner they refreshed theyr wittes, eyther with instrumentes of musyke, or withe redinge or heringe some pleasant story, or beholdinge some thinge delectable and hones [...]e. And after theyr diner was digested, than eyther they exer­cysed them selfes in rydinge, runnynge on fote, shotynge, or other lyke pastyme, or went with their haukes to se a f [...]ight at the ryuer, or wold se their grehoundes course the hare for the dere: whiche they didde as well to recreate theyr wittes, as also to gette them good appetite. But lo, nowe all this is tourned in to a newe fascion, god helpe vs, the worlde is almoste at an ende: For after noone is tourned to fore noone [...] vertue into vyce, vice into vertu, deuocion into hypocresie, and in some places menne say, fayth is tourned to herisye. Dyd I not now say well at the beginninge. That it is a wonder to see this worlde?

H [...]m Pasquillus.

wel, ye thinke as moche as I speke, for al your poynting and wyn­kyng.

But in silence is surety.

Per [...]haunce naye. If I perceyued one at thy backe with a sworde drawen, redy to strike the, woldest thou that I shuld hold [Page] my peace, or els tel the?

Naye, silence were than oute of season.

Now wel fare you for your bald reson, a manne may see, what wisedome there is in youre com­pendiouse speaking, ye wyll season silence. Mary I wene my lorde shuld haue a bet­ter cooke of you than a counsayllour. Not withstanding for youre silence ye mought be a confessour. But yet I doute me: for I remembre Gnato what thou say deste whyle ere, that whan ye were present both with your mayster, if thou commendest his sayenges or doinges, this man wolde, ap­proue it with sylence and coūtenance, whi­che mought do more harme, than all thy flatery, than what mischiefe mought folow of his damnable sylence, if in secrete tyme of confession, wherein confessours haue a­boue al men moste largest lyberte to blame and reproue, he shulde eyther dissemble the vyces that he knoweth in him, whom he hathe in confession, or els forbeare to declare to hym the enormity of suche ca­pytall synnes as he hath confessed.

By my trouthe thou arte a busy felowe, doest thou remembre, what thou saydeste, whan thou dydest espie, that I had a boke of the Newe Testament.

what said I?

Mary this thou saydeste, that some wolde be in the bowels of diuinite or [Page] they knowe what belongethe to good hu­manite. Nowe thou takest thy selfe by the nose: for without hauing regarde to whom thou spekest, thou presumest to teche this worshipful man, what he shal do in confes­sion.

It is well raysoned of you by swete saynt Ronion: ye define teachynge, as well as he dyd season his sylence. Dy­dest thou here me teache hym, what he shulde do? Nay & if thou haste so moch wit to remembre, vpō the wordes that thou thy selfe speakest, I declare what inconueni­ence inought happen by the flaterynge si­lence of [...] confessour: wenest thou that I was neuer confessed? Yes I haue tolde a tale to a frier or this tyme with a grote in my hande, and haue ben assoyled forthwith without any further rehersall: where if a pore man had tolde halfe somoch, he shuld haue ben made equall to the diuell, & haue ben so chid, that whan he had gone frome confession, he shulde haue hanged doune the eres, as if he had ben lerning of pricke songe. All be it, it is the custome of some of you, that be courtiars, whan ye can not defende your mater with raison, to embraied hym that speaketh, with presumption, treson, misprision, or suche other lyke pratye morselles, to stoppe hym of talkynge. But betwene two men full of wordes, trouthe [Page] shall neuer or late be espied: wherfore I wil no more Gnatho meddell with the, but from hens forthe I wyll speake to Har­pocrates for if he can perswade me, that his silence is better than my bablynge, I wyl folow his doctrine rather than thine, for I haue professed from my chyldehode neuer to speke in erneste to my mayster or frende, contrarye to that, that I thynke.

Ergo thou haste professed to stand styl in the rayne, and ones perchance to be throwen in to Cyber, or broken in pieces.

And perchaunce if god neuer lied, I may be in the palaice mery, whan thou shalte syt withoute on a ladder, and make all thy frendes sorye. Herdest thou neuer, that the worlde is rounde, and therfore it is euer tourninge, nowe the wrongeside vpwarde, an other tyme the right, but lette this passe. I praye the Harpocrates teache me howe thou doest season thy sy­lence, doest thou it with salte or with spy­ces?

Naye with sugar, for I vse lyt­tell salte.

And that maketh your counsayl more swete than sau [...]ry.

Ye speake lyke a potticary.

And I haue knowen a wyse poticary done moch more good, if he were trusted, than a fo­lyshe phisition. But nowe to thy sylence, that thou so moche praysest Harpocrates. [Page] Thou saydest that in sylence was suertie. And I asked, If I perceyued one at thy back with a sworde drawen redy to strike the, whether shuld I speke or kepe silēce? And thou answerest, that sylence was thā oute of season.

So sayde I.

I can the thanke, thou abidest by thy wor­de: although at this day, that be acomted no polyce. But why saydest thou, that sy­lence were than out of seson?

For I mought be sore hurt, or perchance kyl­led, if I were not than warned, myne en­my beinge so nygh me.

Ye: I wiste well, that ye wolde not be slayne, nor yet wounded, if ye mought haue rome ynough to ronne, or youre long clothes did not let you. But I put case I knewe, that youre enmye were at youre chamber dore, or let it be further, at Poytiers in France, who had auowed to slee you, and were in his iourney towarde you, but whan or where he wolde strike you, I knowe not: shuld I forthe withe warne you, or els kepe silence vntyl I sawe his sworde ouer youre head [...] redy to kyl you, that I mought keepe sy­lence all waye in [...]eason?

[...]o that were no frendshype but rather traison, to knowe me to be in such peryl, and to [...] it from me, that there were no mean [...] [...] ­cape, but onely by fortune.

What [...] [Page] lasse than trayson? Peace ye are yet no pope, & bycause ye be a priest ye be exemp­ted frome being emperour or kynge.

Haste thou any other terme more propre, where a man consenteth to the destruction of his frend, which specially trusteth him?

By my trouth nay, if I shal not ly [...] but now I am glad, that I haue found you, yet will I a litel better assaie you. If I saw your cousen Gnatho put poyson in to a cuppe of wyne secretly, & brynge it vnto you, shulde I holde my peace, or els tell you?

Mary I defye the, thou knowest no [...] me to be of suche disposition.

what? ye be of a very coler [...]ke complexion: what art thou the warse, that I name the herein for an example? If by the waye of argu­ment, & to make the offence the more hor­rible, I wolde put for the case, that Pope Adriane were poisoned by one of his car­dinalles, bycause he wold haue minisshed theyr maiestie, and haue broughte them to humblenes: Perdy this were no blasphe­my.

There is in thy raylynge none harmony.

No, for therin is no flatery. But Harpocrates that with thy sober sy­lence mockest vs both, what sayeste thou to my question?

Nowe on my faythe thou arte a mery companyon.

Ye good ynough, whan ye haue nothinge left [Page] to saue with your honeste, than ye brynge forthe that mery conclusyon: but saye on, woldest thou than, that I shulde kepe sy­lence or no? Admitte the ca [...]e to be true, though Gnatho be angrie.

Kepe sylence than quoda, nay by the faythe of my bodye.

So I thought, excepte ye be wery of worldly worship, & be now contented to die, and let other men steppe in to youre rowmes, and take peynes for you: but ye say, that sylence were than out of seson?

By saint Iohn ye.

And for what cause tell me youre rayson.

Mary for if thou diddist not warne me, I mought be deceyued by hym, that I trusted, and drynke poyson in the stede of wyne: where of I shulde eyther be dead, or fall in to suche sickenes and brekynge out, that al men shulde abhorre me.

I wolde to god, that thou woldest affirme alway truthe to thy maister, as thou doeste nowe to me. But Harpocrates thou wol­dest not die, nor yet lyue to be abhorred of all men: therein I can prayse the. Nowe sens thou arte a good man (as I suppose and also lerned, woldeste thou that any werse thing shulde happen to thy maister, that trusteth the, than thou woldest to thy selfe?

No truely.

And if thou kneweste any daunger towarde hym, as I [Page] haue rehersed, thou oughtest as well to warne him of it, as I ought the.

I can not deny that.

And also thou woldest.

Why, wherfore shulde I not?

For perauenture if youre mai­ster mistrustethe hym not, that hathe a­uowed to kyll hym, and accomted youre tale for a fantasy, or if he fauourethe hym moche that ye knowe wolde poyson hym: he wyll suppose, that ye tell it hym of some suspicion or malyce, and wyll leane a defe [...]are towarde you. And than he, on whom ye complayned, beinge aduertised, shall omitte that, which he purposed, to proue you a lyar. And than shulde ye bothe lese your thanke of your mayster, and be called a detractour: and also haue hym, whom ye accused and al his bende, vigilant espialles to bringe you in daunger, is it not thus?

Ye syr by Iesus.

What if another man, whiche louethe your mayster no lasse than ye doo, gaue hym suche war­nynge, and ye knewe it to be true: but ye perceyue, that youre mayster listeth not to here of suche matter, or perchaunce com­mendethe hym, which is complayned on: wolde ye also preyse hym, to support the truste that your mayster hathe in hym, or commende your maister therin, for his constance and li [...]tell mistrus [...]inge?

[Page] Nay than were I worthy a hote mischiuing if I wolde helpe to bring so my maister vn­to his confusyon.

What, wolde you holde your tunge, & say nothinge?

No but I wolde forbere for a tyme, and a­wayte dylygentely, to see yf the perylle wold cesse, or mought be by some occasion preuented, or by my mayster other wyse spied: but whan it were imminente, thanne wolde I giue warninge.

Imminent, what calle ye that?

Whan his en­nemie is at his backe with his sword dra­wen, redy to strike him.

And what for poysonynge?

Whan I sawe my frende haue the cuppe in his hande, and were redy to drynke.

Howe gate ye all this witte with so litell lernynge? It is not for nought, that ye be a counsaillour, sens ye haue suche a praty feate in seaso­nyng. Of likelihood ye be wel sene in con­stellations, and doo knowe perfectly the subtile distinctions of tymes & momentes, ye wolde forbere to warne youre maister at the begynnynge of daungier, and whan he is at the poynt to fall in to it, perchance or ye shall not be presente, or els not able [...] or of powar to resiste it: but teache me I pray you, what ye calle imminent, for it is a worde taken out of latyne, and not com­menly vsed.

Marie the thynge that [Page] [...] imminente, is whan it apperethe to be in the instante to be done or to happen: and after some mens exposition, as it thretened to come.

It is well expounded and clerkly. Than if ye wyll diuide the tyme into instantes, bycause perchance ye be a good Dunse man: ye must remembre that the instante whan it appereth, that youre frende shall be slayne, and the instant whan he is in sleing, be not one, but those instan­tes be diuerse. Nor the acte is not in one pointe, whan it is thretned, and whan it is in doing. Wherfore whan there is a sword drawen at youre masters backe, redy to kyll hym, or your maister hath a cup with poison in his hande, and is redy to d [...]ynke: the perell is not nowe imminent, that is to say, to be done, or to happen: but it is in the instant of doyng or happenynge. Neyther it threteth, but is at the verye pointe of executing. Wherfore ther is repugnancie in youre owne reasoninge, if this worde, Imminent, be truely expounded.

Yes that may not be denyed, it hathe bene so long by noble authors approued.

Than resorte to your fyrste assertion Whā the perill were imminent, than wolde ye gyue warnynge: and it foloweth, that than sylence where out of season.

Ye truely.

Ergo speche were than in [Page] good season: is not this your conclusyon [...]

Thou hittest it iustly in myne opy­nyon.

What before and after this in­stant?

Speche is vnprofytable: be­fore, to him that speketh as I haue reher­sed: after, to him, whiche is spoken vnto. For where may be no longer defence, or resistence, spech nothinge auaileth.

Ye thought al this while, that in mayntey­ning your sylence ye had reproued my ly­bertie of speache, whiche ye calle bab­blyng. And that ye had apointed a time for silēce & speking, which ye thought that I lacked. Nowe beholde Harpocrates, howe in the tyme to speke ye and I haue al this while agreed. And in the two inslantes, wherwith ye season your silence, if we two disagree: se that it is bycause ye erre so moch frome naturall reson.

How proue ye that.

Euen by your owne conclusion.

Naye, ye can not bringe that to passe for all youre subtylle inuention.

Wel, I wil do what I can. And I trowe, ye will not deny me, if ye be not of the condicion of some men, whiche by no reason wyll be remoued f [...]om theyr owne opinion. But nowe to the matter. Thou saydest at the fyrst, that if thyne en­nemy stode at thy backe with his sworde drawen to slee the, thou woldeste than be [Page] warned, lest thou moughtest be sore hurt, or perchance kylled, whiche all though it were folishely spoken of so great a lerned man (as who sayth thyne ennemye coulde not slee the, excepte he stode at thy backe, and had his sword drawen) yet in speking we two haue accorded. But to your owne saienge ye haue repugned: where ye sayd that in sylence was suertie. But to excuse that, ye dyd season your sylence: that is to saye, puttynge to tyme: which vndouted­ly is an holsome herbe and a [...]au [...]ry: & than ye were contente to warne youre frende, whan the perell were imminent. And that terme ye expounded thus: whan the thing appered to be in the instante to be done or to happē: & as it is were thretned to come. And herevpon ye grounded your conclu­syon, that spech were than in good seasō. Which argument I wil not deny, for I haue ben alway of the same opiniō. But now re­membre your grammer, & consider that the said definition is in the future tyme, that is to saye, the thing, whiche is imminente, is to be done hereafter, & not in doing, whiche is the presente tyme. Than whyther youre maisters ennemye be at his backe, or at Poyters in France, as I sayde at the fyrst, if ye know, that he purposeth to slee hym: than it appereth to you, that the kil­linge [Page] of your maister is in the instant to be done, and is thretned to happen, ergo the perille is imminent, and ye are bounde to gyue your frende warnynge.

Per­chaunce I may knowe a thinge, and yet it appereth not to me, and than your argu­mente auaileth not an herringe. As I may knowe by other mennes tellynge, or by coniecture of a lyght suspicion.

Nay than shall we haue moche a do with you, if ye wyll compel me of euery worde that I speke, to make definition. Though I haue not so moche lerninge as you, I vse alway my wordes in theyr propre sygnification, & to serue to the matter that I reason vnto. I knowe a thing, which by a cause I consi­der euidentely. And that whiche is onely reported, I doo heare, but I know not: but coniecture is by sygnes, resemblaunce, or likely hoode, whiche may be false: and yet is it not to be neglected, as it shal appere afterward. But now retourn we to know­lege, whiche beinge certein, as I haue defyned it, as sone as thou knowest that one wyll kylle or poyson thy mayster, the perill is imminent: than by thyne owne re­son, thou oughtest to warne hyme: if not, thou art by thine own sentence condemned of treason.

Thou sayest soore to me Pasquill. Not with standing yet me seme­the: [Page] I shulde not warne hym so soone, for the daungers, whiche thou rehersyddest, moughte happen vnto me, if I lacked a thankfull and secrete herer, or els the pur­pose were chaunged: but it were better to tary [...] vntil it came to suche preparatyon, that it mought not be denied.

So mought it be, if ye were partner of the conspiracie, for than mought ye happen to be made priuie to the tyme, whan, and the place, where that your maister shulde stand in such ieopardy: but els ye mought knowe of suche a thinge purposed, and ye be not suer of the tyme, whan it shulde be executed. Than if ye forbere to warn your mayster vntyll the peryll mought be more euident, and as ye say, moughte not be de­nyed: before that tyme it mought be more than imminent, and in the seconde instant, that is to say in the selfe doing, or to speke it more clenly, in execucion.

But than were I out of daunger.

Ye that is all that ye care for: yet moughte ye happen to be deceiued, and your sylence in stede of suertie tourne you to trouble. For seldome is the maister in ieopardie, and the seruantes at libertie, specially they whiche be next about hym: Or if ye happen to es­cape ennemies, if it may be perceyued that ye knewe of the perile, and wold not [Page] discouer it, ye shuld perchaūce escape hardly the halter, though ye had shakē of al youre longe robes, and were but in a ierkynne. Ye [...] if ye warned youre mayster at the be­ [...]ynninge, thoughe he toke it not thank­fully, yet did you your duetie, and can not lacke rewarde of god, who louethe truth, for youre fydellite. And though he, whom ye disapoynted, or his affynitie, shall seke howe to be auenged on you: eyther god wyll defende you, or if there fall to you, therby any aduersytie, fynally falsehode longe kepte in, wyll braste out at the laste, and than shal repentan [...]e cause youre sim­plicite to be had in renome and perpetual memory: whiche parte of honour to euery honest man, passeth all other reward, that may be gyuen in this life that is transitory. But bycause we speake while ere of con­iecture. If by signes and liklihodes, d [...]pe­ly consydered without malice or other vi­cious affection, ye do coniect, that youre mayster is in peryll. Althoughe ye be not so moche bounden to tel him, as if ye knew it: yet if ye tel it hym with your coniecture ye fulfil more the partes of a good seruant than he that hath the same coniecture and spekethe nothynge. For if that thynge happen not, that ye mistrusted, the cause is to be referred to god: but the sygnes & [Page] lykelyhoodes oughte not for al that to be an other tyme dispised: and your care and loue toward your maister are to be highly commended. If it do happen, than your di­lygence and study are to be extolled.

By the faithe of my body thou hast raiso­ned cunnyngly.

That cunning I ne­uer lerned in scoles, but by longe obserua­cion and markynge of other mennes foly.

But Pasquil, thoughe in perylles concerninge mans lyfe, speche may be pre­ferred somtime before silēce. It cōcludeth not, that it shall be so in all other thynges.

To bringe the to this point haue I made all this long babbling. Estemest thou lyfe more than good renome, or the wel­the of thy countraye? For the whiche soo many puissant and noble princis, so manye wise and excellent philosophers haue left theyr lyues willingely? Who gladly wyll leue a better thyng [...]or a warse? Except for wantōnesse, or for the newe facion. Is any dethe so moche to be drad as perpetual infamye, the subuercyon of the common weale, vniuersall distruction of all the hole countrey? Whiche to escape or resist, many valyante knyghtes, honorable matrones [...] and chaste damoyselles haue offred them selfes to the d [...]th. And who refusethe the lasse peyn to cast hym selfe in to the gra [...]t­ter [Page] tourment? Or doste thou esteme the deth of the soule to be of lasse importance than the deathe of the body? What sayeste thou? that iudgement belongethe to thy facultie.

In dede there ye touche me.

Lyke wise, a knocke on the heed, thoughe it be to the scul, is not so daungerous to be healed, as an yuell affection thrast in to thy maysters braynes by false opinion. Nor a wipe ouer his face with a sworde shall not blemmishe so moch his visage, as vice shall deforme his soule and deface his renome, wherby he is further knowen than by his phisonomy. Is there any poyson can make hym to be so abhorred of man, as auarice, tyranny, or bestly lyuynge shall cause hym be hated of god and of man vnyuersally?

No in good faythe, I thinke thou sayest truly.

Than conferre all this togither, with that which we before ray­soned, and se where in any thinge that thy maister speakethe or dothe, if there be any of the perilles imminent, which I late re­hersed: whether it were better to speke or kepe sylence, and in whiche of them were moste surety. And consider also, that by­twene these two perylles, that I haue re­hersed, is no lyttel diuersyte, besydes that the one is moche more than the other. For [Page] in the bodily peril, in the time of the stroke perchaunce your mayster wold here you, and therby escape, or ye mought defende him, but the other peryll of soule or mynd, the lenger that he contynueth therin, the more gladly he receyueth the stroke, and the more he wyll disdayne to be warned by you: and than ye put your selfe in more danger of that, which we spake of before: but for all that neyther in tyme of daunger thou oughtest to leaue thy maister vnwar­ned, whiche thou hast all redy graunted: nor yet whan thy maister is striken or poi­soned, speche is vnprofytable as thou hast supposed.

Howe proue you that? For if ye be a surgeon, ye knowe it muste be your dedes and not your wor­dis, that must helpe him.

Nowe it is wel remembred, ye shall haue goddes blessinge. I neuer herd a more fole by my holydome, doeth a surgeon all his cure with plaisters and instrumentes? som­tyme he spekethe also, or if he be domme, one speakethe for hym, and telleth his pa­cient, what metes & drynkes be vnholsome, whiche be leuitiues and helpeth his medi­cine. Also whan he perceyueth hym to be faynte or discomforted, than with swete wordes and faire promisys he reuiueth his courage. If he be disobedient or riottouse, [Page] he rebuketh hym, & do aggrauate the dan­ger to make the syckenes more greuous. The same is the office of a good confessor, where he perceiueth mannes soule to be wounded with viciouse affections, sins that a conffessour serueth for none other pour­pose, but to cure mannes soule of deadly synnes, whiche be her mortal diseases: but can he do that without speaking? Also ye sayd where mought be no longer resistēce, speche nothinge auaylled: I wene ye saide truer than ye were ware. For whan Gna­tho with his flatery, & ye with your silence haue ones rootid in youre maysters harte false opinions and vicious affecti [...], whiche is the poyson, that we so moche speake of, thoughe ye perceue the daunger, and than sore repent you, yet shall it perchance be impossible with speche to remoue those o­pinions, and cure those affectis, except ye lou [...]d so well your mayster, that for his helthe ye wolde confesse youre owne er­rours.

Nay goddes body, so mought we get for oure selfe a payre of tariars.

Well it were better tary, than runne to the dyuel with youre mayster, or that good re [...]o [...]me shulde runne away from hym. But tell me Harpocrates as thou thinkest, were not speche nowe expedient? or howe mought thy maister be otherwise [Page] curid? with sylence trowist thou?

It semethe that sylence shuld nothynge pro­fyte, nor speche shuld any thing auaylle, if the opinions and affectes be so impressed, that they can not be remoued.

Yet agayne, if ye speke no wyseliar to youre mayster, than ye do to me, he hathe of you a worshypfull counsayloure, I demaunde of you remedy to cure wronge opinions and vycious affectes: and ye answere me, that neyther speche nor sylence is profy­table. Lyke as if I had asked counsayl of a phisytion what thing wold heale me, of my syckenes, and he wolde say, that gy­uinge to me medicine or gyuinge me none, shulde not auayle me.

Spake I not welle, where I fynde no remedy?

No, and ye loke wysely. For and if ye re­membre, I dyd not affyrme expressely, that it shuld be impossible to remoue false op­pinions or vicious affectes, where they were impressed: but I ioyned therto per­aduenture, and also an exception, if ye that induced them, confessed not your owne er­rour. Than if youre confessyon mought cure them, speche were than not vnprofi­table. And if youre owne confessyon auai­lid not, sens I affyrmed not expressely, that the sayde diseases were incurable: if nei­ther sylence, nor speche shulde be profita­ble, [Page] what shulde than be the remedye?

I make god a vowe. I can not tell, excepte it were grace.

I herde the neuer speke so wysely. But yet supposest thou, that grace wylle so lyghtely entre, where false opinion and viciouse affectes be so depely imprinted, excepte they be first some what remoued by good perswa­syon? onles thou thinkest, that euery man shalbe called of god, as saint Paule was, who was elected. And yet now I remem­bre me, at his conuersyon Chryste spake vnto hym, & tolde him that it was hard to spurne againe the prycke: where if Chryst had hold his peace, Saule which was thā beaten downe to the grounde, moughte haue happened neuer to haue bene called saynt Paule: but if he had escaped, he wold by lykelihod haue contynued styll in his errour.

It is not for vs Pasquill to inserche the impenetrable iugementes of god: but the grace of god hathe happened farre aboue mennes expectation: & where al other remedy lacked. For thā the puis­saunce of all myghty god is specially pro­ued.

But trustynge only therein, to leue oure owne indeuour, I thinke it pre­sumption. And what indeuour may be in silence? Wherfore speche is not onely pro­fytable but also of necessitie muste be vsed [Page] in healinge the dyseases, bothe of the soule and also the body.

I can not denye that, if I say truly.

Than whan is youre sylence in season?

I can not shortly tel, I am so abashed at thy froward reson.

Than wyll I helpe you to knowe your owne vertue, wherin ye haue suche delectation. I trowe ye herde not howe I dyd expound the sentence of A [...]s­chylus, whiche Gnatho rehersed to me for a counsayle?

Yes, that I dyd, for I stode all that whyle at the [...]wyndowe herkenynge of the.

Se howe full the world is of suche false ymages, that do here all, whan they seme to here nothinge: as I trust to be saued, with suche felowes it is perillous dealyng. But yet that shal not cause Pasquill to leaue hys bablyng. Nowe Harpocrates, beare away the sayd sentence with myne exposition, and vse it.

So I wyl, as moche as perteineth to sylens.

Ye god a vow and also to spekyng, or els all the counsayle is not worth thre halspens. Thynke ye to be a counsailour, and speake not? What where the Emperoure the better, if in stede of counsailours he had set in his chambre the ymages of Cato, Mettellus, Lelius, Ci­cero, and suche other persones, who ly­uinge, ferre excelled in wytte, experyence, [Page] and lernynge, them, which be nowe about hym? be men that sytte and speke nothing, any better than they? No, but rather moch warse: for they serue for nothyng, yet the ymages do that, wherfore they be ordey­ned, that is to say b [...]ynge to mens remem­brance the wysedom and vertu of them, whome they represented. But doumme counsaylours do not theyr offyce, wher­fore they be called to counsail, but by their sylence they cause many thynges to be broughte to an vnlucky conclusion.

And thou that art nat called to counsayle, arte full of bablynge.

But ones in a yere: and wo [...]ist thou why that is?

Nay, tell me I pray the.

Mary if they that be called, wolde alway play the partis of good Counsailoures: And bothe spirytuall and temporall gouernours wold banysh the and Gnatho out of theyr Courtes, excepte ye amende your condicions. I wolde speake neuer a worde, but syt as styll as a stone, lyke as ye se me: But for as moche as it hapneth all contrary, and that thynges be so far out of frame, that stones doo grouche at it (remembrest thou nat what a clatteryng they made at the laste warres in Italy?) and yet counsaylours be spechelesse: I that am set in the cytie of Rome, which is the head of the world, [Page] ones in the yere shall here of the state of all princis and regions. And bicause in the moneth of Maye men be all sette in plea­sure, and than they take merily such wor­des as be spoken agayn them: than boldly I put forth my verdict [...], and that openly.

There thou doest folysshely: for thou shuldest do more good, yf thou spa­kest priuily.

Tushe man, my playn­nesse is so well knowen, that I shall neuer come vnto priuy chamber or galery.

Sens thou profytest so lytel, why art thou so busy?

To thintent that men shal perceyue, that theyr vyces, whyche they thynke to be wonderfull secrete, be kno­wen to al mē. And that I hope alway, that by moche clamour, and open repentaunce, whan they see the thynge not succede to theyr purpose, they wyll be ashamed.

Yet mayste thou happen to be deceyued.

But they moche more, whan they knowe not who loueth them truly.

Harpocrates, it is time that we repaire to the court, lest we be blamed. And lette vs leaue Pasquyll with his praterye.

And I wyl leaue you both with your flat­tery. Yet I trust in god to see the day, that I wyll not sette by the best of you bothe a butterflye. As great a wonder haue I seneer this tyme,

Farwell Pasquyl, and [Page] thynke on silence.

Farewell Har­pocrates, and thynke on thy conscience, I wene I mought bie as moch of the costard monger for two pence. Nowe whan these two felowes comme to theyr maister, they wyl tell al that they haue hard of me, it maketh no matter. For I haue sayd nothyng, but by the way of aduertisement, without reprochyng of any one person, wherwith no good mā hath cause to take any disple­sure. And he that doth, by that whyche is spoken, he is soone spied, to what parte he leaneth, Iudge what men lyst, my thought shall be free. And god, who shall iudge all men, knoweth, that I desyre all thyn­ges to be in good point, on the cō ­dicion, that I mought euer be specheles, as it is my very nature to be. Adieu gentyll herers, and saye well by Pasquyll, whan he is from you.