University of Virginia Library

Pri.
Thy blinded Zeale my very heart doth grieve,
Thou understandst not what thou should believe,
Thinkst thou so many Grave and learned men,
Have liv'd and dy'd in bleare-ey'd errours den,
Dost thinke all Popes, all Cardinalls, all lyers,
Abbots, most zealous Monkes, most holy Fryers.
Dost thinke all these for many a hundred yeare,
Did not professe and know the Truth sincere?
These men maintain'd the Church in glorious state,
Till Luther and curst Calvin 'gan to prate.

Ped.
Like as a Squirrill skips from tree to tree,
Euen so (sir Iohn) you from the matter flee:
Our talke was Latin, and our Lady first,
And you to other arguments out burst.
I tell you I that Virgin love and honour,
Although my prayers doe not wait upon her,
Nor doe I hold her Reliques of such price,
To raise soules to the heavenly Paradise.
You her suppos'd apparell doe adore,
Haire-lace and Slippers (which she never wore)
Her Combe, her Girdle and her Gowne of filke,
Her apron and the pot that held her milke,
Her cloake, her Hankerchiefe, her Hood, her Haire,
To these you mumble many a Latin prayer,
And therefore I defie you, and in sadnes,
I hold such holines a kind of madnes;
And so, sir Iohn, we two will make an end,
And each of us about his Busines wend.
Yet e're we part I would fall to againe,
And of the Latin speake a word or twaine,
There was but one tongue at the Birth of Abel,
And many at the building up of Babel,
A wicked work, which God would have confounded,
But when Christ came, all tongues again resounded,
To build his Church, by his Apostles teaching;
Which was in praying sure as well as preaching;
For prayer is the full and true perfection
Of holy service (saving your correction)
Then if our Lord to mine owne tongue be readie,
What need I then with Latin move our Ladie,
Or if to both my prayers must be in,
I pray sir tell wth which should I begin,
And to pray jointly to them both as one,
Your Latin prayers then are quickly gone?
For Pater noster never will accord
With her, nor Ave Mary with our Lord.
If I have him, what need I seek another,
Or will he nothing doe without his Mother,
And this (sir Priest) was much in Question,
Disputed long, with deep disgestion,
Whether the Ave Mary should be said
To God, or to our Lady when they pray'd,
With which Saint Andrewes University,
Was puzled with a strange diversity,
And sate so long they cooled all their Kale,
At last the Master Cooke heard of the tale,
And like a mad man ran among the Clergy,
Crying with many a Domine me asperge,
To give the Pater noster to the Father,
And Avies to our Lady altogether,
And every man may thinke (that wise or grave is)
She's more then satisfied with Creeds and Aves.
At which the Clergie (fearing more confusion)
Were all contented with the Cookes conclusion.

Priest.
Pedlar, this tale, is of thee coyned new;

Ped.
Sir Iohn Ile leese my packe if't be not true:
Againe, all learned Monkes and Fryers have read,
How Christ himselfe taught us of his owne head,
That every soule that is with sinne opprest,
Should come to him, and he would give them rest:
Come all to me (said he) not to another,
Come all to me (said he) not to my Mother.
And If I doe as our good Lord commanded,
I know our Lady will no wayes withstand it.
And so if I should say my prayers in Lattin,
Unto the Lord at Even-song or at Matin,
And never understand what I were saying,
Thinke you the Lord would take it for true praying,
No sure, he will not, for I truly know,
My tongue and heart must both together goe,
And hereupon I'le tell you what befell,
To learned Clearkes, that Latin well could spell,
With whom by chance I lodged at an Inne,
Whereas an old wife on her wheele did spin,
And towards evening she fell to and pray'd,
But neither they or I knew what she said,
One said she canted, others said she mumbled,
And still strange language from her lips she fumbled,
Round run her wheele, and round her tongue did run,
She mumbled and she slaver'd, and she spun;
What think you now sir Iohn of this old Hussie,
Where was her heart when as she was so busie.
At last (said one) Dame wot you what you say,
No, not (quoth she) but well I wot I pray;
You pray (quoth he) and know not what I grant,
Alas how can you be so ignorant.
The woman, musing little at the motion,
Said, ignorance is Mother of Devotion.
If Ignorance be mother then (said he)
Sure darknesse must her onely daughter be;
Pray'd you, (quoth I) when al the time you span,
What matters that, quoth she God's a good man,
And knowes what I speak in the Latin tongue,
Either at Matins or at Even-song.
Alas, good sir, was not this wife abus'd,
Whose soule and sences all were so confus'd,
You know these unknown tongues can profit no man,
And one tongue is enough for any woman;
But when we pray in true sinceritie,
As God commands in spirit and veritie,
The heart sends up the tongue as Messenger
Unto the Lord, a pleasant passenger.

Priest.
But Pedlar, here's a prettie little Booke,
Wherein if thou wilt spare the time to looke,
Set forth by a good Catholicke Divine,
Which out of doubt will settle thy ingine
With it, thy conscience will be better fram'd,
The Gag of the new Gospel it is nam'd:
He clearely proves by Zacharies example,
When he did sacrifice vvithin the Temple,
And all the people prayd and stood vvithout,
They knevv not then what tongue he spake no doubt;
Ergo the Masse may be both said and sung,
In other language then our mother Tongue.

Ped.
Sir Iohn I see your holy Catholicke,
Upon the Text hath put a pretty tricke,
Did Zachary speake in a Latin stile,
When all the people staid without the while,
He was a Jew sure, and knew Hebrew well,
And spake no Latin for ought you can tell;
For if the people heard not what he said,
Could they or you know in what tongue he pray'd
Since understanding commeth by the eare,
He cannot understand that doth not heare.
Prove it that Zachary spake Latin, then
I'le say all Monkes and Fryers are honest men.
Because a learned Priest may pray in Latin,
And mumble o're his Even-song, Masse, and Matin,
Ergo a Pedlar to the Lord may pray,
And know no sillable that he doth say,
So when you put me to your Pater noster,
I aske an Egge when I would have an Oister.
And seeing thus our Faiths doe disagree,
That neither I with you, nor you with mee
Can be united, with one minde and heart,
I thinke it best we take our leaves and part.
I'le pray that God, in Grace and mercy, would
Bring all his straying Flock into his Fold.