The Life of Sir Thomas More/Appendix 21
No. XXI.
Mayster Thomas More, in his youth, devysed in his father's house, in London, a goodly hanging of fyne paynted cloth, with nyne pageauntes, and verses over of every of those pageauntes: which verses expressed and declared, what the ymages in those pageauntes represented: and also in those pageauntes were paynted, the thynges that the verses over them dyd (in effecte) declare, which verses here folowe.
In the first pageant was painted a boy playing at the top and squyrge. And over this pageaunt was written
CHYLDHOOD.
To caste a coyte, a cockstele, and a ball,
A toppe can I set, and dryve it in his kynde,
But would to God these hateful bookes all
Were in a fyre brent to pouder small.
Than myght I lede my lyfe alwayes in play:
Whiche lyfe God sende me to myne endyng day.
In the seconde pageaunt was paynted a goodly fresh yongeman, rydyng upon a goodly horse, havynge an hawke on hys fyste, and a brase of grayhowndes folowyng hym. And under the horse fete, was paynted the same boy, that in the fyrste pageaunte was playinge at the top and squyrge. And over this second pageaunt the wrytyng was thus:
MANHOD.
To hunt and hawke, to nourish up and fede
The Grayhounde to the course, the hawke to the flyght,
And to bestryde a good and lusty stede.
These thinges become a very man in dede,
Yet thynketh this boye his pevishe game swetter
But what no force, his reason is no better.
In the thyrd pageaunt, was paynted the goodly younge man in the seconde pageaunt lying on the grounde. And upon him stode Ladye Venus, goddes of Love, and by her stode the lyttle god Cupyde. And over this third pageaunt this was the wrytyng that foloweth:
VENUS AND CUPYDE.
Of Venus, and me her lytle sonne Cupyde,
Thou Manhod shalt a myrrour bene a right
By us subdued for all thy great pryde,
My fyry dart perceth thy tender syde;
Now thou whiche erst despysedst children small
Shall waxe a chylde agayne and be my thrall.
In the fourth pageaunt was paynted an olde sage father sittyng in a chayre. And lying under his feete was painted the ymage of Venus and Cupyde, that were in the thirde pageaunt. And over the fourth pageaunt the scripture was this:
AGE.
Of our short lyfe, the last and best parte;
Wyse and discrete: the publike wele therefore
I help to rule to my labour and smart,
Therefore Cupyde withdrawe thy fyry dart,
Chargeable matters shall of love oppresse
The chyldish game and ydle bysinesse.
In the fifth pageaunt was paynted an ymage of Death, and under hys fete lay the olde man in the fourth pageaunt, this was the saying:
DETH.
Yet there is none in all this worlde wyde
That may my power withstande or escape,
Therefore sage father, greatly magnifyed,
Descend from your chayre, set apart your pryde,
Witsafe to lende (though it be to your payne)
To me a fole, some of your wise brayne.
In the sixt pageaunt was painted Lady Fame. And under her fete was the picture of Death that was in the fifth pageant. And over this sixt pageant the writyng was as followeth:
FAME.
Though [I] with tonges am compassed all rounde,
For in voyce of people is my chiefe livyng.
O cruel death, thy power I confounde.
When thou a nobleman hast brought to grounde,
Maugry thy teeth to lyve cause hym shall I,
Of people in perpetuall memory.
In the seventh pageant was painted the ymage of Tyme, and under hys fete was lyeng the picture of Fame that was in the first pageant. And this was the scripture ouer this seuenth pageaunt:
FAME.
Am named tyme, the lord of euery howre.
I shall in space destroy both see and lande.
O simple Fame, how darest thou man honowre,
Promising of his name, an endlesse flowre
Who may in the world have a name eternall,
When I shall in proces distroy the world and all.
In the eyght pageant was pictured the ymage of Lady Eternitee, sitting in a chayre under a sumptuous clothe of estate, crowned with an imperial crown. And under her fete lay the picture of Time, that was in the seventh pageant. And above this eight pageaunt, was it writen as foloweth:
ETERNITEE.
The very name signifyeth well,
That myne Empyre infinite shal be;
Thou mortall Tyme every man can tell,
Art nothing els but the mobilitie,
Of sonne and mone chaungyng in euery degre,
When they shall leue theyr course thou shalt be brought,
For all thy pride and bostyng, into nought.
In the nynth pageant was painted a Poet sitting in a chayre, and over this pageant were there writen these verses in Latin following:
THE POET.
Sed mira veros quas putat arte homines.
Ille potest veris, animum sic pascere rebus,
Ut pictis oculos poscit imaginibus.
Namque videbit uti fragilis bona lubrica mundi,
Tam cito non veniunt, quam cito pretereunt,
Gaudia laus et honor, celeri pede omnia cedunt,
Qui manet excepto semper amore dei.
Ergo homines, levibus jamjam diffidite rebus,
Nulla recessaro spes adhibenda bono,
Qui dabit eternam nobis pro munera vitam,
In permansuro ponite vota deo.
END OF APPENDIX.