[Illustration: That gloton or dronkarde, vyle in goddes sight Shall hardly escape the weyght of pouertye. Whiche drynketh and deuoureth both day and nyght Therin onely settynge all his felycyte His lothsome lust and his bestyalyte Shall brynge vnto destruccion fynally His soule, his godes and his wretchyd body.] Within our nauy he nedes shall haue a place. Whiche without mesure on lothsome glotony Setteth his pleasure and singuler solace His stomacke ouerchargynge, vyle and vngodely And to none other thynge his mynde doth he aply Saue depest to drynke, suche force nat of theyr soules But labore in rynsynge pecis cuppis and bowles The madnes of dronkennes is so immoderate That greuous sores it ingendreth and sykenes It causeth often great foly and debate With soden deth and carefull heuynes In thynges no difference putteth dronkennes. It febleth the ioyntis and the body within Wastynge the brayne makynge the wyt full thyn It engendreth in the hede infirmyte Blyndynge the herte wyt and discression The mynde it demynyssheth, coloure and beaute. Causynge all myschef, shame and abusyon It maketh men mad, and in conclusyon Causeth them lyue without lawe or measure Suynge after syn defylynge theyr nature The people that are acloyed with this synne. On no thynge els theyr myndes wyll aply: Saue to the wyne and ale stakes to renne And there as bestes to stryue and drynke auy Than ar they outher gyuyn to rybawdry Or els to brawle and fight at euery worde Thus dronkennes is the chefe cause of discorde But namely dronkennes and wretchyd glotony By their excesse and superfluyte Engendreth the rote of cursed Lechery With murder, thefte and great enormyte So bryngeth it many to great aduersyte And with his furour the worlde so doth it blynde That many it bryngeth to a shamfull ende This vyce (alas) good maners doth confounde And maketh man ouer besy of langage And hym that in all ryches doth abounde It ofte in pryson bryngeth and in bondage It causeth man to his great sorowe and domage Disclose his secrete and his preuey counsayle Whiche causeth hym after sore to mourne and wayle Nought is more lothsome, more vycyous nor vyle Than he that is subdued to this vyce His lyfe shortynge his body he doth defyle Bereuynge his soule the ioy of Paradyse Howe many Cytees and lordes of great pryce Hath ben destroyed by dronken glotony And by his felawe, false loue, or lechery. The sone of Thomyr had nat ben ouercome Nor slayne by Cyrus for all his worthynes. If he hym selfe had gydyd by wysdome And the vyce auoydyd of blynde dronkennes The great Alexander taken with this madnes With his swerde, whan he was dronken slewe Suche of his frendes as were to hym most trewe