For he that with one hownde wol take also Two harys togyther in one instant For the moste parte doth the both two forgo And if he one haue: harde it is and skant And that blynde fole mad and ignorant That draweth thre boltis atons in one bowe At one marke shall shote to hye or to lowe Or els to wyde, and shortly for to say With one or none of them he strykis the marke: And he that taketh vpon hym nyght or day Laboures dyuers to chargeable of warke. Or dyuerse offycis: suche wander in the darke For it is harde to do well as he ought To hym that on dyuerse thynges hath his thought With great thoughtes he troubleth sore his brayne His mynde vnstable, his wyt alway wandrynge: Nowe here nowe there his body labours in payne And in no place of stedfast abydynge. Nowe workynge now musynge now renynge now rydynge Now on see nowe on londe, than to se agayne Somtyme to Fraunce, and nowe to Flaunders or Spayne Thus is it paynfull and no thynge profytable On many labours a man to set his mynde For nouther his wyt nor body can be stable Whiche wyll his body to dyuers chargis bynde Whyle one goth forwarde the other bydes behynde Therfore I the counseyll for thyne owne behoue Let go this worlde and serue thy lorde aboue He that his mynde settyth god truly to serue And his sayntes: this worlde settynge at nought Shall for rewarde euerlastynge ioy deserue But in this worlde, he that settyth his thought All men to please, and in fauour to be brought Must lout and lurke, flater, lawde, and lye: And cloke a knauys counseyll, though it fals be If any do hym wronge or iniury He must it suffer and pacyently endure A dowble tunge with wordes lyke hony And of his offycis if he wyll be sure He must be sober and colde of his langage More to a knaue, than to one of hye lynage Oft must he stoupe his bonet in his honde His maysters backe he must oft shrape and clawe His breste anoyntynge, his mynde to vnderstonde But be it gode or bad therafter must he drawe Without he can Jest he is nat worth a strawe. But in the meane tyme beware that he none checke For than layth malyce a mylstone in his necke He that in court wyll loue and fauour haue A fole must hym fayne, if he were none afore And be as felowe to euery boy and knaue And to please his lorde he must styll laboure sore His manyfolde charge maketh hym coueyt more That he had leuer serue a man in myserye Than serue his maker in tranquylyte But yet whan he hath done his dylygence His lorde to serue as I before haue sayde For one small faute or neglygent offence Suche a displeasoure agaynst hym may be layde That out is he cast bare and vnpuruayde. Whether he be gentyll, yeman grome or page Thus worldly seruyce is no sure herytage