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EBBA 37042

British Library - Huth
Ballad XSLT Template
A new balade entituled as foloweth,
To such as write in Metres, I write
Of small matters an exhortation,
By readyng of which, men may delite
In such as be worthy commendation.
My verse also it hath relation
To such as print, that they doe it well,
The better they shall their Metres sell.
And when we have doen al that ever we can,
Let us never seke prayse at the mouth of man.

HORACE, that noble Poet did write
In his learned booke, the arte of Poetrie
Notable thinges, of which to resite
One is now to be noted speciallie
In these our dayes, and wot ye whie?
For some there be, take matters in hand
Chiefly in Metre, to shew their fancie
As did in his dayes, a certaine band.

Read in his bookes, and then understand,
They vexed his eares, they troubled his eyes
With Metres in number, compared to the sand:
And lacked not such, as wolde to the skyes
So prayse their workes (such was their guyse)
And also extoll their Metres so
With wordes frevolous, and manifest lyes,
That lyke unto them, there was no mo.

But what saith HORACE, afore we go
Any further herein? because they did use
To procure freendes, lest that their fo
Shoulde paint them out, and so accuse
Their doinges in verse, and their abuse
Which men to praise them, were not so prest
As Horace agayne wolde styll refuse
To admit that number into his brest.

Such coulde not dwell in his studie or chest
LUCILIUS, with other in Horace dayes
Was one which he coulde not disgest
His verse in wordes, or sence alwayes
For the most parte deserved small prayse.
And why? because he had more respect
To covet the garland, of Lawrel or Bayes
For number rather, then verse select.

For when by writing men doe detect
Their wysedome, or els their follie indeede
Yf it be foolish, they doe correct
Or ought that can, and that with speede
As HORACE did: the unskylfull breede
Of Poets that wrote in his time (I say)
The workes of such, as ye may read,
Continue not long, but fall away.

Such spices & wares as come from the sea
They be good to use from towne to towne,
To the Pedler they be a right good stay
To put in his stuff, blacke white or browne.
Good for the Master, and good for the Clowne
To make (as ye know) the matter cleane,
Good to toke up, and good to cast downe
When ye have doen, ye know what I meane.

Your balades of love not worth a beane
A number there be, although not all,
Some be pithie, some weake, some leane
Some doe runne as round as a ball:
Some verses have such a pleasant fall
That pleasure it is for any man
Whether his knowledge be great or small
So that of a verse some skyll he can.

But some yf ye take in hand to skan
They lacke their grace, they lacke good sence,
The Printer shoulde therfore with his fan
Pourge chaff from corne, to avoyde offence.
And not for lucre, under pretence
Of newes, to print what commeth to hand,
But that which is meete to bring in pence
Let him print, the matter well scand:

Our englyshmen, some out of the land
A sorte of Rebelles sturdye and stoute,
with our pope holy men, that overthwart band
At Lovaine, with open sclander breath oute.
What envie can doe, to bryng in doubte
The godly workes well written of late
Of learned men, and now go aboute
To stirre up against us warre and debate.

Wherfore let us not open a gate,
Eyther the Printer, or they which write
To such as they be, knowyng their state,
Their sclanderous pen doth cruelly byte.
Let them not say that those which endyte
Lacke knowledge in that, the pen doth expresse,
Let them not say that a ravenyng Kyte
Is as good as a Larke, at a Printers messe.

But now lest ye thinke me to use excesse
I wyll to an end myself prepare,
Wyshyng all them that wyll adresse
Their pen to Metres, let them not spare
To folow Chawcer, a man very rare,
Lidgate, Wager, Barclay and Bale:
With many other that excellent are,
In these our dayes, extant to sale.

Let writers not covet the bottom or dale
Yf they may come to the hyll or brinke,
And when they have written their learned tale
The Printer must use good paper and inke.
Or els the reader may sometime shrinke
When faulte by inke or paper is seene,
And thus every day before we drinke
Let us pray God to save our Queene. Amen.


FINIS.
by R.B.
Imprinted at S. Katherins besyde the Towre of London, by Alexander Lacie.

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