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PROLOGUE SKELTONIDIS LAUREATI SUPER WARE THE HAWKE.
This worke devysed is
For suche as do amys,
And specyally to controule
Such as have cure of soule,
That be so farre abused
They cannot be excused
By reason nor by law;
But that they play the daw
To hawke, or els to hunt
From the auter to the funt,
With cry unreverent,
Before the sacrament,
Within the holy church bowndis,
That of our faith the grownd is.
That pryest that hawkys so,
All grace is far him fro.
He semeth a sysmatyke
Or els an heretyke,
For fayth in him is faynte.
Therefore to make complaynte
Of such mysadvysed
Parsons and dysgysed,
This boke we have devysed,
Compendiously comprysed,
No good priest to offende,
But suche dawes to amende,
In hope that no man shall
Be myscontent withall.
I shall you make relacion
By waye of apostrofacion
Under supportacion
Of youre pacyent tolleracion,
How I, Skelton laureat,
Devysed and also wrate
Upon a lewde curate,
A parson benyfyced,
But nothing well advysed.
He shall be as now nameles,
But he shall not be blameles,
Nor he shall not be shameles;
For sure he wrought amys,
To hawke in my church of Dys.
This fonde frantyke fauconer,
With his polutid pawtenar,
As priest unreverent,
Streyght to the sacrament
He made his hawke to fly,
With hogeous showte and cry.
The hy auter he strypte naked;
There on he stode, and craked;
He shoke downe all the clothis,
And sware horrible othes
Before the face of God,
By Moyses and Arons rod,
Or that he thens yede,
His hawke shulde pray and fede
Upon a pigeons maw.
The bloude ran downe raw
Upon the auter stone.
The hawke tyrid on a bone,
And in the holy place
She mutid there a chase
Upon my corporas face.
Such sacrificium laudis
He made with suche gambawdis.
OBSERVATE
His seconde hawke wexid gery,
And was with flying wery;
She had flowin so oft,
That on the rode loft
She perkyd her to rest.
The fauconer then was prest,
Came runnynge with a dow,
And cryed, ‘Stow, stow, stow!’
But she wold not bow.
He then, to be sure,
Callid her with a lure.
Her mete was very crude,
She had not wel endude;
She was not clene ensaymed,
She was not well reclaymed;
But the fawconer unfayned
Was much more febler brayned.
The hawke had no lyst
To come to hys fyst;
She loked as she had the frounce;
With that he gave her a bounce
Full upon the gorge.
I wyll not fayne nor forge;
The hawke with that clap
Fell downe with evyll hap.
The church dores were sparred,
Fast boltyd and barryd,
Yet wyth a prety gyn
I fortuned to come in,
This rebell to beholde,
Wherof I hym controlde;
But he sayde that he woulde
Agaynst my mynde and wyll
In my churche hawke styll.
CONSIDERATE
On Saynt John decollacion
He hawked on this facion,
Tempore vesperarum,
Sed non secundum Sarum
But lyke a Marche harum
His braynes were so parum.
He sayde he would not let
His houndis for to fet,
To hunte there by lyberte
In the dyspyte of me,
And to halow there the fox.
Downe went my offerynge box,
Boke, bell, and candyll,
All that he myght handyll;
Cros, staffe, lectryne, and banner,
Fell downe on this manner.
DELIBERATE
With, ‘Troll, cytrace, and trovy,’
They rangyd Hankyn Bovy,
My churche all abowte.
This fawconer then gan showte,
‘These be my gospellers,
These be my pystyllers,
These be my querysters
To helpe me to synge,
My hawkes to mattens rynge.’
In this priestly gydynge
His hawke then flew uppon
The rode, with Mary and John.
Delt he not lyke a fon?
Delt he not lyke a daw?
Or els is this Goddis law,
Decrees or decretals,
Or holy sinodals,
Or els provincials,
Thus within the wals
Of holy church to deale,
Thus to rynge a peale
With his hawkis bels?
Dowtles such losels
Make the churche to be
In smale auctoryte:
A curate in speciall
To snappar and to fall
Into this open cryme;
To loke on this were tyme.
VIGILATE
But who so that lokys
In the officiallis bokys,
Ther he may se and reed
That this is matter indeed.
How be it, mayden Meed,
Made theym to be agreed;
And so the Scrybe was feed,
And the Pharasay
Then durst nothing say,
But let the matter slyp,
And made truth to trip;
And of the spiritual law
They made but a gewgaw,
And toke it out in drynke
And this the cause doth shrynke:
The church is thus abusyd,
Reproched and pollutyd;
Correccion hath no place,
And all for lacke of grace.
DEPLORATE
Loke now in Exodi,
And de archa Domini,
With Regum by and by;
The Bybyll wyll not ly
How the Temple was kept,
How the Temple was swept,
Where sanguis taurorum,
Aut sanguis vitulorum,
Was offryd within the wallis,
After ceremoniallis;
When it was poluted,
Sentence was executed,
By wey of expiacion,
For reconciliacion.
DIVINITATE
Then moch more, by the rode,
Where Christis precious blode
Dayly offryd is,
To be polutyd this;
And that he wysshed withall
That the dowves donge downe might fall
Into my chalis at mas,
When consecrated was
The blessed sacrament:
O prieest unreverent!
He sayd that he wold hunt
From the aulter to the funt.
REFORMATE
Of no tyrand I rede,
That so far dyd excede;
Neyther yet Dioclesyan,
Nor yet Domisian,
Nor yet croked Cacus,
Nor yet dronken Bacus;
Nother Olibrius,
Nor Dionisyus;
Nother Phalary,
Rehersed in Valery
Nor Sardanapall,
Unhappiest of all;
Nor Nero the worst,
Nor Clawdius the curst;
Nor yet Egeas,
Nor yet Syr Pherumbras;
Nother Zorobabell,
Nor cruel Jesabell;
Nor yet Tarquinius,
Whom Tytus Livius
In wrytynge doth enroll;
I have red them poll by poll;
The story of Arystobell,
And of Constantinopell,
Whiche citye miscreantys wan,
And slew many a Christen man;
Yet the Sowden, nor the Turke,
Wrought never suche a worke,
For to let theyr hawkes fly
In the Church of Saint Sophy;
With moch matter more,
That I kepe in store.
PENSITATE
Then in a tabull playne
I wroute a verse or twayne,
Whereat he made dysdayne.
The pekysh parsons brayne
Cowde not rech nor attayne
What the sentence ment.
He sayde, for a crokid intent,
The wordes were parverted:
And this he overthwarted.
Of the which proces
Ye may know more expres,
If it please you to loke
In the resydew of this boke.
Here after followeth the tabull.
Loke on this tabull,
Whether thou art abull
To rede or to spell
What these verses tell.
Sicculo lutveris est colo bunraaran
Nixphedras visarum caniuter tuntantes
Raterplas Natanbrian umsudus itnugenus.
18.10.2.11.19.4.13.3.4.1.tenvalet.
Chartula stet, precor, hec nullo temeranda petulco:
Hos rapiet numeros non homo, sed mala bos.
Ex parte rem cartae adverte aperte, pone musam
Arethusam hanc.
Wherto should I rehers
The sentence of my vers?
In them be no scholys
For braynsycke frantycke folys:
Construas hoc,
Domine Dawcocke!
Ware the hawke!
Maister sophista,
Ye simplex silogista,
Ye develysh dogmatista,
Your hawke on your fista,
To hawke when you lista
In ecclesia ista,
Domine concupisti,
With thy hawke on thy fisty?
Nunquid sic dixisti?
Nunquid sic fecisti?
Sed ubi hoc legisti
Aut unde hoc,
Doctor Dawcocke?
Ware the hawke!
Doctor Dialetica,
Where fynde you in Ypothetica,
Or in Cathagoria,
Latina sive Dorica,
To use your hawkys forica
In propitiatorio,
Tanquam diversorio?
Unde hoc,
Domine Dawcocke?
Ware the hawke!
Saye to me, Jacke Harys,
Quare accuparis
Ad sacramentum altaris?
For no reverens thou sparys
To shake my pygeons federis
Super arcam federis:
Unde hoc,
Doctor Dawcocke?
Ware the hawke!
Sir dominus vobiscum,
Per aucupium
Ye made your hawke to cum
Desuper candelabrum
Christi crucifixi
To fede uppon your fisty:
Dic, inimice crucis Christi,
Ubi didicisti
Facere hoc,
Domine Dawcocke?
Ware the hawke!
Apostata Julianus,
Nor yet Nestorianus,
Thou shalt nowhere rede
That they dyd suche a dede,
To let theyr hawkys fly
Ad ostium tabernaculi,
In quo est corpus Domini;
Cave hoc,
Doctor Dawcocke!
Ware the hawke!
This dowtles ye ravyd,
Dys church ye thus depravyd;
Wherfore, as I be savyd,
Ye are therefore beknavyd.
Quare? Quia evangelia,
Concha et conchelia,
Accipiter et sonalia,
Et bruta animalia,
Cetera quoque talia
Tibi sunt equalia:
Unde hoc,
Domine Dawcocke?
Ware the hawke!
Et relis et ralis,
Et reliqualis,
From Granado to Galis,
From Wynchelsee to Walys,
Non est braynsycke talys,
Nec minus racionalis,
Nec magis bestialis,
That synggys with a chalys;
Construas hoc,
Doctor Dawcocke!
Ware the hawke!
Masyd, wytles smery smyth,
Hampar with your hammer upon thy styth,
And make hereof a syckyll or a saw,
For thoughe ye lyve a c. yere, ye shall dy a daw.
Vos valete,
Doctor indiscrete!
SKELTONIS APOSTROPHAT AD DIVUM JOHANNEM DECOLLATUM IN CUIUS PROFESTO FIEBAT HOC AUCUPIUM.
A memoranda dies, qua, decollate Johannes,
Aucupium facit, haud quondam quod fecerit, intra
Ecclesiam de Dis, violans tua sacra sacrorum!
Rector de Whipstok, doctor cognomine Daucock,
Et dominus Wodcock; probat is, probat hic, probat hec hoc.
IDEM DE LIBERA DICACITATE POETICA IN EXTOLENDA PROHITATE, ET IN PERFRICANDA IGNOBILITATE.
Libertas veneranda piis concessa poetis
Dicendi est quecunque placent, quecunque juvabunt
Vel quecunque valent justas defendere causas,
Vel quecunque valent stolidos mordere petulcos.
Ergo dabis veniam.
Quod Skelton laureat.
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