University of Virginia Library

Iohn Bon and Mast person

A lasse poore fooles, so sore ye be lade
No maruel it is, thoughe your shoulders ake
For ye beare a great God, which ye yourselfes made
Make of it what ye wyl, it is a wafar cake
And betwen two Irons printed it is and bake
And loke where Idolatrye is, Christe wyl not be there
Wherfore ley downe your burden, an Idole ye do beare
The parson
What Iohn Bon good morowe to the

Iohn Bon.
Nowe good morowe mast parson so mut I thee

Parson
What meanest yu Iohn to be at worke so sone

Iohn
The zoner I begyne the zoner shall I haue done
For I tende to warke no longer then none

Parson.
Mary Iohn for that gods blessinge on thy herte
For surely some therbe wyl go to ploughe an carte
And set not by thys holy, corpus christi euen

Iohn
They aer the more to blame I swere by saynt Steuen
But tell me mast parson one thinge and you can
What saynt is copsi cursty a man or a woman?

Parson
Why Iohn knoweste not that? I tel the it was a man,
It is Christe his owne self and to morowe is hys daye
We beare hym in prosession and thereby knowe it ye maye

Iohn
I knowe mast parson? and na by my faye
But me thinke it is a mad thinge that ye saye
That it shoulde be a man howe can it come to passe
Because ye maye hym beare with in so smal a glasse

Parson
Why neybor Iohn and art thou nowe there?
Nowe I maye perceyue ye loue thys newe geare

Iohn
Gods forbod master, I should be of that facion
I question wy your mashippe in waye of cumlication
A playne man ye may se wil speake as cometh to mind
Ye muste holde vs ascused for plowe men be but blynd
I am an elde felowe of fifty wynter and more
And yet in all my lyfe I knewe not this before

Parson
No dyd, why sayest thou so, vpon thy selfe thou lyest
Thou haste euer knowen the sacramente to be the body of Christ

Iohn
Ye syr ye say true, all that I know in dede
And yet as I remember it is not in my crede
But as for cropsy cursty to be a man or no
I knewe not tyll thys day by the waye my soule shal to

Parson
Why folishe felowe, I tel the it is so
For it was so determined by the churche longe ago
It is both the sacramente and very Christ him selfe

Iohn
No spleaser mast parson then make ye Christe an elfe
And the maddest made man that euer body sawe

Parson
What? peace mad man thou speakeste lyke a dawe
It is not possible hys manhode for to se

Iohn
Why sir ye tell me it is euen verye he
And if it be not his manhode, his godhed it must be

Parson
I tell the none of both, what meaneste thou, art yu mad

Iohn
No nother mad nor druncke, but to learne I am glade
But to displease your mashippe I woulde be very loth
Ye graunt me here playnly that it is none of boeth
Then is it but a cake, but I pray ye be not wroth.

Parson
Wroth quod ha, by the masse yu makest me swere an othe
I hade leuer wyth a docter of diuinitie to reason
Then wyth a stubble cur that eateth beanes and peason

Iohn
I crie ye mercye mast person pacience for a season
In all thys cumlicacion is nother felony nor treason

Parson
No by the masse but herest thou, it is playne heresye

Iohn
I am glade it chaunced so, theyr was no witnes by
And it ther had I cared not, for ye spake as yl as I
I speake but as I harde you saye I wot not what ye thought
Ye sayd it was not God nor man & made it worsse then nought

Parson
I ment not so, thou tokeste me wronge

Iohn
A sir ye singe another songe
I dare not reason wyth you longe
I se well nowe ye haue a knacke
To saye a thynge and then go backe

Parson
No Iohn I was but a littyll ouersene
But thou mentest not gode fayeth I wene
In all thys talke that was vs betwene

Iohn
I? no trowe it shannot so beene
That Iohn Bon shall an heretike be calde
Then myght he saye him so fowle befalde.

Parson.
But nowe if thou wylt marke me well
From begynninge to endynge I wyl the tell
Of the godly seruice that shalbe to morowe
That or I haue done no doubte thou wylt sorowe
To here that suche thynges shoulde be fordone
And yet in many places they haue begun
To take a waye the olde and set vp newe
Beleue me Iohn thys tale is true

Iohn
Go to mast parson saye on and well to thryue
Ye be the Iolest gēman that euer sawe in my lyue

Parson
We shal firste haue matins, is it not a godly hereynge?

Iohn
Fie? Yes, me thinke tis a shamefull gay chearynge
For often times on my prayers, when I take no greate kepe
Ye sing so arantly well, ye make me fal a slepe

Parson
Then haue we prosession and Christe aboute we beare

Iohn
That is apoysone holy thinge for God himselfe is ther

Parson
Than comme we in and redy vs dresse
Full solempnely to goo to Messe

Iohn
Is not here a mischeuous thynge?
The Messe is vengaunce holye for all ther sayeinge

Parson
Then saye we Confiteor and miseriatur

Iohn
Ieze Lorde tis abbominable matter

Parson
And then we stande vp to the auter

Iohn
Thys geere is as good as oure ladies sawter

Parson
And so gose fourth wyth the other dele
Tyll we haue rede the Pistell and Gospell

Iohn
That is good mast person I knowe ryght well

Parson
Is that good? why what sayste thou to the other

Iohn
Mary horrible good I saye none other

Parson
So is all the messe I dare auow this
As good in euery poynte as Pistell or Gospel is

Iohn
The fowle euyll it is, whoe woulde thynke so muche
In fayeth I euer thought that it had bene no suche

Parson
Then haue we the canon that is holyest

Iohn
A spightfull gay thynge of all that euer I wyst

Person
Then haue we the memento euen before the sacringe

Iohn
Ye are morenly well learned I se by your recknynge
That ye wyll not forget suche an eluyshe thynge

Parson
And after that we consecrate very God and man
And turne the breade to fleshe wyth fyue wordes we cā

Iohn
The deuell ye do I trowe. Ther is pestilence busines
Ye are much boūde to god, for suche a spittell holines
A galows gay gifte wyth fyue wordes alone
To make boeth God and man and yet wese none
Ye talke so vnreasonably well, it maketh my herte yerne
As elde a felow as yche am I se well I maye learne

Parson
Yea Iohn and then wyth wordes holy and good
Euen by and by we tourne the wyne to bloude

Iohn
Lo wyll ye se lo? who woulde haue thought it
That ye could so sone, from wine to bloud ha brought it
And yet except your mouth, be better tasted than myne
I can not fele it other but that it shoulde be wyne
And yet I wote nere a cause ther maye be whye
Perchaunce ye ha dronke bloude ofter then euer dyd I

Parson
Truely Iohn it is bloud though it be wine in taste
As soone as the worde is spoke the wyne is gone & past

Iohn
A sessions on it for me my wyttes are me benumme
For I can not study where the wyne shoulde become

Parson.
Study quod ha, beware and let suche matter go
To meddle muche wyth thys may brynge ye sone to wo

Iohn
Yea but mast parson thynk ye it were ryght
That if I desired you to make my blake oxe whight
And you saye it is done, and styl is blacke in syght
Ye myght me deme a foole for to beleue so lyght

Parson
I maruell muche ye wyll reason so farre
I feare if ye vse it, it wyll ye mar

Iohn
No no sir I truste of that I wylbe ware
I praye you wyth your matter agayne fourth to fare

Parson
And thē we go forth and Christes body receyue
Euyn the very same that mary dyd conceyue

Iohn
The deuill it is, ye haue a greate grace
To eate God and man in so short a space

Parson
And so we make an ende as it lieth in an order,
But now the blessed messe is hated in euery border
And railed on & reuiled, wt wordes most blasphemous
But I trust it wylbe better wt the help of Catechismus
For thoughe it came forth but euen that other day
Yet hath it tourned many to ther olde waye
And where they hated messe and had it in disdayne
There haue they messe and matins in latyne tonge againe
Ye euen in Londō selfe (Iohn) I tel the troeth
They be ful glade & mery to here of thys God knoweth

Iohn
By my trueth mast parson I lyke full wel your talke
But masse me no more messinges. The right way wil I walke
For thoughe I haue no learning yet I know chese frō chalke
And yche can perceiue your iuggling as crafty as ye walke
But leue your deuilish masse & ye cōmuniō to you take
And thē will Christ be wt you euē for his promisse sake

Parson
Why art thou suche a one and kept it so closse
Wel al is not golde that hath a fayre glosse
But farewel Iohn Bon god bringe the in better mind

Iohn
I thanke you sir for that you seme verie kynde
But praye not so for me for I am well Inoughe
Whistill boy, driue furth God spede vs and the plough
Na browne done, forth that horson crabbe
Ree comomyne, garlde, wyth haight blake
Haue a gayne bald before, hayght ree who,
Cherly boy cum of that whomwarde we maye goo