Thomas Wyatt

Of the Courtier's Life

Mine own John Poins, since ye delight to know
The causes why that homeward I me draw,
And fly the press of Courts, where so they go;

Thrall under awe

Wyatt uses 'thrall'—slavery language—to describe courtier life. This isn't metaphorical complaint; he's equating court service with actual bondage.

Rather than to live thrall under the awe
Of lordly looks; wrapped within my cloak;
To will and lust learning to set a law:
It is not that because I scorn or mock
The power of them, whom fortune here hath lent

Fortune's delegation

He grants that rulers have legitimate power ('of right'), but immediately undercuts this by saying he judges them by outward appearance rather than actual merit. The concession is rhetorical armor.

Charge over us, of right to strike the stroke:
But true it is that I have always meant
Less to esteem them than the common sort,
Of outward things that judge in their intent
Without regard what inward doth resort.
I grant, sometime of glory that the fire
Doth touch my heart. Me list not to report
Blame by honour, and honour to desire.
But how may I this honour now attain,

Dye black a liar

This unusual construction—'cannot dye the colour black a liar'—means he can't disguise or recolor truth as falsehood. It's a specific refusal of courtly rhetoric.

That cannot dye the colour black a liar?
My Poins, I cannot frame my tune to feign,
To cloak the truth, for praise without desert
Of them that list all vice for to retain.
I cannot honour them that set their part
With Venus, and Bacchus, all their life long;
Nor hold my peace of them, although I smart
I cannot crouch nor kneel to such a wrong;
To worship them like God on earth alone,
That are as wolves these sely lambs among.
I cannot with my words complain and moan,
And suffer nought; nor smart without complaint:
Nor turn the word that from my mouth is gone.
I cannot speak and look like as a saint;
Use wiles for wit, and make deceit a pleasure
Call craft counsel, for lucre still to paint.
I cannot wrest the law to fill the coffer,
With innocent blood to feed myself fat,
And do most hurt, where that most help I offer.
I am not he, that can allow the state
Of high Cæsar, and damn Cato to die,
That with his death did scape out of the gate

Cato's choice

[CONTEXT] Cato chose death over living under Caesar's tyranny. Wyatt invokes him as the opposite of courtiers who compromise liberty for safety. This is dangerous political allegory—Wyatt wrote this after Henry VIII's court purges.

From Cæsar’s hands, if Livy doth not lie;
And would not live where liberty was lost;
So did his heart the common wealth apply.
I am not he, such eloquence to boast,
To make the crow in singing as the swan;
Nor call the lion of coward beasts the most;
That cannot take a mouse as the cat can:
And he that dieth for hunger of the gold,
Call him Alexander; and say that Pan
Passeth Apollo in music manifold:
Praise Sir Topas for a noble tale,
And scorn the story that the Knight told:
Praise him for counsel that is drunk of ale;
Grin when he laughs, that beareth all the sway,
Frown when he frowns, and groan when he is pale
On others’ lust to hang both night and day.
None of these points could ever frame in me:
My wit is nought, I cannot learn the way.
And much the less of things that greater be,
That asken help of colours to devise:
To join the mean with each extremity,
With nearest virtue aye to clothe the vice:
And, as to purpose likewise it shall fall,
To press the virtue that it may not rise:

Rhetorical inversion catalog

Lines 64-77 list courtly lies systematically: calling drunkenness 'fellowship,' cruelty 'justice,' tyranny 'a prince's reign.' Each example shows how language gets weaponized to legitimize vice.

As drunkenness good fellowship to call;
The friendly foe, with his fair double face,
Say he is gentle, and courteous therewithal;
Affirm that Favel hath a goodly grace

Favel's eloquence

Favel (Flattery personified) appears as a concrete court figure. Wyatt treats abstraction as a real courtier—showing how vice becomes institutionalized as a person wielding power.

In eloquence: and cruelty to name
Zeal of justice, and change in time and place:
And he that suffereth offence without blame,
Call him pitiful; and him true and plain,
That raileth rechless unto each man’s shame.
Say he is rude, that cannot lie and feign;
The lecher a lover; and tyranny
To be the right of a prince’s reign:
I cannot I, no, no, it will not be.
This is the cause that I could never yet
Hang on their sleeves that weigh, as thou mayst see,

Chip vs. pound

He measures court value in 'a chip of chance' against 'a pound of wit'—chance (fortune/patronage) outweighs actual intelligence. This is his diagnosis of why he can't advance.

A chip of chance more than a pound of wit:
This maketh me at home to hunt and hawk:
And in foul weather at my book to sit;
In frost and snow, then with my bow to stalk;
No man doth mark whereso I ride or go:
In lusty leas at liberty I walk;
And of these news I feel nor weal nor woe;
Save that a clog doth hang yet at my heel.

Clog at heel

Despite freedom in Kent, 'a clog doth hang yet at my heel.' This is likely his exile from court—he's physically free but legally/politically tethered. The next line reveals he can still 'leap'—he has mobility despite constraint.

No force for that, for it is order’d so,
That I may leap both hedge and dyke full well.

France and Spain contrast

He refuses the cosmopolitan courtier's life—wine-tasting in France, performing obedience in Spain. These aren't cultural jabs; they're examples of courtiers abandoning authenticity for foreign sophistication.

I am not now in France, to judge the wine;
With savoury sauce those delicates to feel:
Nor yet in Spain, where one must him incline,
Rather than to be, outwardly to seem.
I meddle not with wits that be so fine;
Nor Flander’s cheer lets not my sight to deem
Of black, and white; nor takes my wits away
With beastliness; such do those beasts esteem,
Nor I am not, where truth is given in prey

Truth in prey

'Truth is given in prey / For money, poison, and treason'—truth becomes hunted game, destroyed for profit. This is the poem's darkest image of court corruption.

For money, poison, and treason; of some
A common practice, used night and day.

Kent and Christendom

He locates himself in Kent (rural, real) and Christendom (moral/spiritual truth), not in court geography. The placement is deliberate—he's choosing Christian virtue over courtly advancement.

But I am here in Kent and Christendom;
Among the Muses, where I read and rhyme;

Among the Muses

The final move: court exile becomes intellectual refuge. 'Among the Muses, where I read and rhyme' reframes withdrawal as a positive choice—he's gained access to something courts can't offer.

Where if thou list, mine own John Poins, to come,
Thou shalt be judge how I do spend my time.
Source Wikipedia Poetry Foundation

Reading Notes

Why Wyatt Quit Court: The Logic of Refusal

This poem is structured as a long negation—'I cannot' repeated so insistently it becomes a manifesto. Wyatt addresses his friend Poins to explain why he's left Henry VIII's court for rural Kent. But this isn't a simple complaint. He systematically catalogs what courtiers must do (lie, flatter, worship tyrants, call vice virtue) and declares each one impossible for him. The poem's power lies in the specificity: he doesn't say courtiers are bad people, he itemizes the exact rhetorical and moral corruptions they perform daily.

CONTEXT Wyatt wrote this after surviving Henry VIII's purges in the 1530s—he'd been imprisoned on charges of adultery with Anne Boleyn (likely false). This poem is his explanation for staying away from court politics: not cowardice, but refusal to participate in the systematic lying required to survive there. When he invokes Cato—who died rather than live under Caesar—he's making a pointed comparison. The courtier must become a performer, a shape-shifter who 'speaks and looks like a saint' while being none of it. Wyatt can't do it, and he won't pretend otherwise.

Notice how the poem's catalog of lies accelerates. Early sections name general corruptions (flattery, servility). By the middle, he's listing specific courtly rhetorical moves: calling drunkenness 'good fellowship,' the 'friendly foe with his fair double face,' cruelty rebranded as 'zeal of justice.' These aren't exaggerations—they're the actual language games courtiers played. The poem teaches you to hear court speech as translation, where every word means its opposite.

The Escape Plot: From Thrall to Liberty (With Conditions)

The poem's second half shifts from refusal to description—Wyatt shows what he's chosen instead. He hunts, hawks, reads, and 'at liberty I walk.' But notice the qualifications: 'a clog doth hang yet at my heel.' He's not free; he's strategically withdrawn. The final location matters: 'I am here in Kent and Christendom; / Among the Muses, where I read and rhyme.' He's trading court favor for intellectual and spiritual autonomy. This is the poem's quiet radicalism—he's proposing that a man can opt out of power structures entirely and lose nothing essential.

But the ending is an invitation, not a declaration of victory. 'Where if thou list, mine own John Poins, to come, / Thou shalt be judge how I do spend my time.' He's not claiming his choice is universal; he's offering Poins a test. Come see how I live. Judge whether this freedom—constrained as it is—beats courtly advancement. The poem never resolves whether Wyatt is genuinely content or performing a different kind of mask. That ambiguity is the point: even in exile, he can't fully escape the performance. But at least in Kent, he controls which lies he tells.