The wilfvll fall of the blacke Smith, and the foolishe ende of the Lorde _Awdeley_, in Iune, Anno 1496.[1784] 1. Who is more bolde then is the blinde beard?[1785] Where is more craft than in the clouted shone? Who catch more harme than such as nothing feard?[1786] Where is more guile then where mistrust in[1787] none? No plaisters helpe before the griefe be knowen, So seemes by mee who could no wisdome lere, Untill such time I bought my wit too deare. 2. Who, being boystrous, stout, and braynlesse bolde, Puft vp with pride, with fire and furyes fret, Incenst with tales so rude and playnly tolde, Wherein deceit with double knot was knit, I trapped was as seely fishe in net, Who swift in swimming, not doubtfull of[1788] deceit, Is caught in gin wherein is layde no bayt. 3. Such force and vertue hath this dolefull playnt, Set forth with sighes and teares of crocodile, Who seemes in sight as simple as a saynt, Hath layde a bayte the wareles to begyle, And as they wepe they worke deceit the while, Whose rufull cheare the rulers so relent, To worke in haste that they at last repent. 4. Take heede therefore ye rulers of the land, Be blinde in sight, and stop your other eare: In sentence slow, till skill the truth hath scand, In all your doomes both loue and hate forbeare, So shall your iudgement iust and right appeare: It was a southfast sentence long agoe, That hasty men shall neuer lacke much woe. 5. Is it not truth? _Baldwine_, what sayest thou? Say on thy minde: I pray thee muse no more: Me thinke thou star’st and look’st[1789] I wot not howe, As though thou neuer saw’st[1790] a man before: Belike thou musest why I teach this lore, Els what I am, that here so bouldly[1791] dare, Among the prease of princes to compare. 6. Though I bee bolde I pray the blame not mee, Like as men sowe, such corne nedes must they reape, And nature hath so planted in[1792] eche degree, That crabs like crabs will kindly crall and crepe: The suttle foxe vnlike the sely shepe: It is according to my education, Forward to prease in rout and congregation. 7. Behold my coate burnt with the sparkes of fire, My lether apron fylde with the[1793] horse shoe nayles, Beholde my hammer and my pinsers here, Beholde my lookes, a marke that seldom fayles, My cheekes declare I was not fed with quayles, My face, my cloathes, my tooles, with all my fashion, Declare full well a prince of rude creation. 8.