XXVII.-CORYDON'S DOLEFUL KNELL. THIS little simple elegy is given, with some corrections, from two copies, one of which is in The golden garland of princely delights. SERIES THE SECOND.-BOOK III. I. THE COMPLAINT OF CONSCIENCE. I SHALL begin this Third Book with an old allegoric satire, entitled The Complaint of Conscience-a manner of moralizing which, if it was not first introduced by the author of Pierce Plowman's Visions, was at least chiefly brought into repute by that ancient satirist. The kind of verse used in this ballad has a strong affinity with the peculiar metre of that writer. The following song, entitled The Complaint of Conscience, is printed from the Editor's folio manuscript. Some corruptions in the old copy are here corrected; the corrections are placed between inverted "commas. As I walked of late by "an" wood side, A silly poor creature ragged and rent, And his garments they were all mire, This made me muse, and much "to" desire To know what kind of man hee shold bee; I stept to him straight, and did him require His name and his secretts to shew unto His head he cast up, and wooful was hee, care, And makes me scorned, and left here so bare. Then straightway he turnd him, and prayd "me" sit downe, And I will, saithe he, declare my whole greefe ; My name is called Conscience :-wheratt he did frowne, He pined to repeate it, and grinded his teethe, "Thoughe now, silly wretche, I'm denyed all releef," "Yet" while I was young, and tender of yeeres, I was entertained with kinges, and with peeres. There was none in the court that lived in such fame, For with the kings councell "I" sate in commission; Dukes, earles, and barrons esteem'd of my name; And how that I liv'd there needs no re petition: I was ever holden in honest condition, For howsoever the lawes went in Westminster-hall, When sentence was given, for me they wold call. No incomes at all the landlords wold take, The poore wold doe nothing without I ruled the world with the right line: And there thou and wee most friendly Why then, I said to him, methinks it And at letting their farmes "how always Then laid he him down, and turned him I came." They sayd, Fye upon thee! we may thee curse: "Theire" leases continue, and we fare the worse. And then I was forced a begging to goe To husbandmens houses who greeved right sore, And sware that their landlords had plagued them so, That they were not able to keepe open doore, Nor nothing had left to give to the poore: away, And prayd me to goe, and leave him to rest. I told him, I haplie might yet see the day For him and his fellowes to live with the best. First, said he, banish Pride, then all England were blest; For then those wold love us, that now sell their land, And then good "house-keeping wold revive" out of hand. *We ought in justice and truth to read can. |