A metre of four verses in the Utopian Tongue, briefly touching, as well the strange beginning, as also the happy and wealthy continuance of the same Commonwealth.

Vtopos ha Boccas peu la chama polta chamaan. Bargol he maglomi Baccan soma gymnosophaon. Agrama gymnosophon labarem bacha bodamilomin. Volvala barchin heman la lavolvala dramme pagloni. ¶Which verses the translator, according to his simple knowledge and mean understanding in the Utopian tongue, has thus rudely Englished:

My king and conqueror Utopus by name,

A prince of much renown and immortal fame,
Hath made me an isle that erst no island was,
Full fraught with worldly wealth, with pleasure and
solace.

I one of all other without philosophy

Have shaped for man a philosophical city.
As mine I am nothing dangerous to impart,

So better to receive I am ready with all my heart.

A short metre of Utopia, written by Anemolius Poet Laureate and nephew to Hythloday by his sister:

Me Utopia clepèd Antiquity,
Void of haunt and herbourough,

Now am I like to Plato's city,
Whose fame flieth the world through.
Yea like, or rather more likely
Plato's plat to excel and pass.

For what Plato's pen hath platted briefly
In naked words, as in a glass,
The same have I performed fully,

With laws, with men, and treasure fitly.
Wherefore not Utopia, but rather rightly
My name is Eutopia: a place of felicity.

Gerard of Nimeguen. Of Utopia:

Doth pleasure please? then place thee here, and well thee rest,

Most pleasant pleasures thou shalt find here.

Doth profit ease? then here arrive, this isle is best. For passing profits do here appear.

ROBINSON'S VERSE

33

Doth both thee tempt, and wouldst thou grip both

gain and pleasure?

This isle is fraught with both bounteously.

To still thy greedy intent, reap here incomparable treasure,

Both mind and tongue to garnish richly.

The hid wells and fountains both of vice and virtue,
Thou hast them here subject unto thine eye.
Be thankful now, and thanks where thanks be due
Give to Thomas More, London's immortal glory.

Cornelius Schreiber to the Reader:

Wilt thou know what wonders strange be in the land that late was found?

Wilt thou learn thy life to lead, by divers ways that godly be?

Wilt thou of virtue and of vice, understand the very ground?

Wilt thou see this wretched world, how full it is of vanity?

Then read, and mark, and bear in mind, for thy behoof, as thou may best,

D

All things that in this present work, that worthy clerk Sir Thomas More,

With wit divine full learnedly, unto the world hath plain expressed,

In whom London well glory may, for wisdom and for godly lore.

The Printer to the Reader:

The Utopian alphabet, good reader, which in the above written Epistle is promised hereunto, I have not now adjoined, because I have not as yet the true characters or forms of the Utopian letters. And no marvel, seeing it is a tongue to us much stranger than the Indian, the Persian, the Syrian, the Arabic, the Egyptian, the Macedonian, the Sclavonian, the Cyprian, the Scythian etc., which tongues though they be nothing so strange among us as the Utopian is, yet their characters we have not. But I trust, God willing, at the next impression hereof to perform that which now I cannot: that is to say, to exhibit perfectly unto thee the Utopian Alphabet. In the meantime accept my good will. And so farewell.