Thus thryues the lawer by anothers good Iniustly gotten, disceyuynge his clyent Also some other ar callyd Phesicians good Whiche vtterly disceyue the pacyent If he haue money than hath he his intent And if the seke haue store ynough to pay Than shall the cure be dryuen from day to day So if the lawer may any auauntage wyn He shall the cause from terme to terme defarre The playntyf for a player is holde in. With the defendaunt kepynge open warre So laweyers and Phesicians thousandes do marre And whan they no more can of theyr suers haue The playntyf beggyth, the seke is borne to graue But of these lawyers bycause I spoke before Of folysshe Phesicians here onely I intende. Somwhat to say: And of lawers no more On you Phesicians shall I conclude and ende I say no man may hym so well defende That he for murder may auoyde punysshement Yet may Phesicians, sleynge the pacient Thus thou that of Phesycian hast the name If thou nought knowe of perfyte medycyne It is forsoth to thy rebuke and shame To boste the scyence: nat hauynge the doctryne Therfore I counsell that thou thy mynde inclyne To haue the cunnynge, els certaynly thou shall Haue thy blynde craft and lyue a fole with all. THE ENUOY OF THE TRASLATOUR. Thou blynde Phesician that of thy craft nought can Leue of thy lewdnes and bolde audacyte To take on the: the cure of chylde or man For by thy foly the wors myght they be And ye that suerly perceyue your faculte Be true therin, and auaryce from you cast Shame is to brynge a man to pouertye And than in paynes to leue hym at the last * * * * * Of the ende of worldly honour and power and of Folys that trust therein. [Illustration: On erth was neuer degre so excellent Nor man so myghty: in ryches nor scyence But at the ende all hath ben gone and spent Agaynst the same no man can make defence Deth all thynge drawyth, ferefull is his presence, It is last ende of euery thynge mundayne Thus mannys fortune of cours is vncertayne] O creatures of myndes mad and blynde I wonder of your hertis proude and eleuate Whiche on vayne power set so sore your mynde And trust so moche to your vnsure estate As of your lyfe were neyther yere nor date To worldly worshyp ye stedfastly intende As if your lyfe sholde neuer more come to ende Alway ye labour to come to dignyte And oft by falshode your power to augment Alas fewe ar content with theyr degre But by extorcion spoyle the pore innocent On worldly treasour so set is theyr intent And styll to honour as besely to ascende As if theyr lyfe sholde neuer more come to ende Take thou example by Julius cesar That of the worlde durynge a whyle was sure And many kynges subduyd by myght of warre And of the Empyre had lordshyp charge cure But this his myght great space dyd nat endure And whyle he trustyd yet hyer to ascende By cruell deth he soon came to his ende