NATURE, WIT, and WILL.

Grand lady, mother of every mortal thing:
Nurse of the world, conservative of kind:
Cause of increase, of life and soul the spring;
At whose instinct the noble heaven doth wind,
To whose award all creatures are assigned,
I come in place to treat with this my son,
For his avail how he the path may find,
Whereby his race in honour he may run:
Come, tender child, unripe and green for age,
In whom the parent sets her chief delight,
Wit is thy name, but far from wisdom sage,
Till tract of time shall work and frame aright,
This peerless brain, not yet in perfect plight:
But when it shall be wrought, methinks I see,
As in a glass beforehand with my sight,
A certain perfect piece of work in thee,
And now so far as I [can] guess by signs,
Some great attempt is fixed in thy breast:
Speak on, my son, whereto thy heart inclines,
And let me deal to set thy heart at rest.
He salves the sore, that knows the patient best:
As I do thee, my son, my chiefest care,
In whom my special praise and joy doth rest;
To me therefore these thoughts of thine declare.

WIT.
Nature, my sovereign queen and parent passing dear,
Whose force I am enforced to know and 'knowledge everywhere,
This care of mine, though it be bred within my breast,
Yet it is not so ripe as yet to breed me great unrest,
So run I to and fro with hap luck as I find,
Now fast, now loose: now hot, now cold: inconstant as the wind,
I feel myself in love, yet not inflamed so,
But causes move me now and then to let such fancies go,
Which causes prevailing sets each thing else in doubt
Much like the nail, that last came in, and drives the former out.
Wherefore my suit is this: that it would please your grace
To settle this unsettled head in some assured place:
To lead me through the thick, to guide me all the way,
To point me where I may achieve my most desired pray,
For now again of late I kindle in desire,
And pleasure pricketh forth my youth to feel a greater fire.
What though I be too young to show her sport in bed,
Yet are there many in this land that at my years do wed,
And though I wed not yet, yet am I old enou'
To serve my lady to my power, and to begin to woo.

NATURE.
What is that lady, son, which thus thy heart doth move?

WIT.
A lady, whom it might beseem high Jove himself to love.

NATURE.
Who taught thee her to love, or hast thou seen her face?

WIT.
Nor this nor that, but I heard men talk of her apace.

NATURE.
What is her name?

WIT.
Reason is her sire, Experience her dame,
The lady now is in her flower, and Science is her name.
Lo, where she dwells; lo, where my heart is all possest;
Lo, where my body would abide; lo, where my soul doth rest.
Her have I borne good-will these many years tofore,
But now she lodgeth in my thought a hundred parts the more,
And since I do persuade myself that this is she,
Which ought above all earthly wights to be most dear to me;
And since I wot not how to compass my desire,
And since for shame I cannot now nor mind not to retire,
Help on, I you beseech, and bring this thing about
Without your hurt to my great ease, and set all out of doubt.

NATURE.
Thou askest more than is in me to give,
More than thy cause, more than thy state, will bear,
They are two things to able thee to live,
And to live so, that none should be thy peer,
The first from me proceedeth everywhere;
But this by toil and practice of the mind,
Is set full far, God wot, and bought full dear,
By those that seek the fruit thereof to find,
To match thee then with Science in degree,
To knit that knot that few may reach unto,
I tell thee plain, it lieth not in me.
Why should I challenge that I cannot do?
But thou must take another way to woo,
And beat thy brain, and bend thy curious head,
Both ride and run, and travel to and fro,
If thou intend that famous dame to wed.

WIT.
You name yourself the lady of this world.

NATURE.
It is true.

WIT.
And can there be within this world a thing too hard for you?

NATURE.
My power it is not absolute in jurisdiction,
For I cognise another lord above,
That hath received unto his disposition
The soul of man, which he of special love
To gifts of grace and learning eke doth move.
A work so far beyond my reach and call,
That into part of praise with him myself to show
Might soon procure my well-deserved fall:
He makes the frame, and [I] receive it so,
No jot therein altered for my head;
And as I it receive, I let it go,
Causing therein such sparkles to be bred,
As he commits to me, by whom I must be led:
Who guides me first, and in me guides the rest,
All which in their due course and kind are spread
Of gifts from me such as may serve them best,
To thee, son Wit, he will'd me to inspire,
The love of knowledge and certain seeds divine,
Which ground might be a mean to bring thee here,
If thereunto thyself thou wilt incline:
The massy gold the cunning hand makes fine:
Good grounds are till'd, as well as are the worst,
The rankest flower will ask a springing time;
So is man's wit unperfit at the first.

WIT.
If cunning be the key and well of wordly[382] bliss
Me-thinketh God might at the first as well endue all with this.

NATURE.
As cunning is the key of bliss, so it is worthy praise:
The worthiest things are won with pain in tract of time always.

WIT.
And yet right worthy things there are, you will confess, I trow,
Which notwithstanding at our birth God doth on us bestow.

NATURE.
There are; but such as unto you, that have the great to name,
I rather that bestow, than win thereby immortal fame.

WIT.
Fain would I learn what harm or detriment ensued,
If any man were at his birth with these good gifts endued.

NATURE.
There should be nothing left, wherein men might excel,
No blame for sin, no praise to them that had designed well:
Virtue should lose her price, and learning would abound;
And as man would admire the thing, that each-where might be found.
The great [e]state, that have of me and fortune what they will,
Should have no need to look to those, whose heads are fraught with skill.
The meaner sort, that now excels in virtues of the mind,
Should not be once accepted there, where now they succour find.
For great men should be sped of all, and would have need of none,
And he that were not born to land should lack to live upon.
These and five thousand causes mo, which I forbear to tell,
The noble virtue of the mind have caused there to dwell,
Where none may have access, but such as can get in
Through many double doors: through heat, through cold, through
thick and thin.

WIT.
Suppose I would address myself to seek her out,
And to refuse no pain that lieth thereabout;
Should I be sure to speed?

NATURE.
Trust me, and have no doubt,
Thou canst not choose but speed with travail and with time:
These two are they that must direct thee how to climb.

WIT.
With travail and with time? must they needs join in one?

NATURE.
Nor that nor this can do thee good, if they be took alone.

WIT.
Time worketh all with ease, and gives the greatest dint:
In him soft water drops can hollow hardest flint.
Again with labour by itself great matters compass'd be,
Even at a gird, in very little time or none we see.
Wherefore in my conceit good reason it is,
Either this without that to look, or that without this.

NATURE.
Set case thou didst attempt to climb Parnassus hill:
Take time five hundred thousand years and longer, if thou will,
Trowest thou to touch the top thereof by standing still?
Again work out thy heart, and spend thyself with toil:
Take time withal, or else I dare assure thee of the foil.

WIT.
Madam, I trust I have your licence and your leave,
With your good-will and so much help as you to me can give;
With further aid also, when you shall spy your time,
To make a proof to give attempt this famous hill to climb;
And now I here request your blessing and your prayer;
For sure, before I sleep, I will to yonder fort repair.

NATURE.
I bless thee here with all such gifts as nature can bestow,
And for thy sake I would they were as many hundred mo.
Take there withal this child, to wait upon thee still:
A bird of mine, some kin to thee: his name is Will.

WIT.
Welcome to me, my Will, what service canst thou do?

WILL.
All things forsooth, sir, when me list, and more too.

WIT.
But whether[383] wilt thou list, when I shall list, I trow?

WILL.
Trust not to that; peradventure yea, peradventure no.

WIT.
When I have need of thee, thou wilt not serve me so.

WILL.
If ye bid me run, perhaps I will go.

WIT.
Cock's soul, this is a boy for the nonce amongst twenty mo!

WILL.
I am plain, I tell you, at a word and a blow.

WIT.
Then must I prick you, child, if you be drown'd in sloth.

NATURE.
Agree, you twain, for I must leave you both;
Farewell, my son: farewell, mine own good Will,
Be ruled by Wit, and be obedient still;
Force thee I cannot, but as far as lies in me,
I will help thy master to make a good servant of thee.
Farewell—
[Exit.

WIT.
Adieu, lady mother, with thanks for all your pain;
And now let me bethink myself again and eke again,
To match with Science is the thing that I have took in hand:
A matter of more weight, I see, than I did understand.
Will must be won to this, or else it will be hard;
Will must go break the matter first, or else my game[384] is marr'd,
Sir boy, are you content to take such part for me,
As God shall send, and help it forth as much as lies in thee?

WILL.
Yea, master, by his wounds, or else cut off his head.

WIT.
Come then, and let us two devise what trace were best to tread;
Nature is on my side, and Will my boy is fast.
There is no doubt I shall obtain my joys at last.

[Exeunt.