The Popish Kingdome, or reigne of Antichrist written in Latine verse by Thomas Naogeorgus, and englished by Barnabe Googe |
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 | The Popish Kingdome, or reigne of Antichrist |  |
Lyke as Ianues and Iambres withstoode Moises, euen so doe these
also resist the truth. Men they are of corrupt mindes, and lewde
as concerning the faith: but they shall preuaile no longer. For
their foolishnesse shall be manifest to all men, as theirs was.
2. TIMOTH. 3.
To the right high, and mightie princesse, Elizabeth
by the grace of God, Queene of Englande, Fraunce,
and Ireland, defender of the fayth, and of the Church of England
and Ireland, on earth next vnder God the
supreme gouernour.
To the right high and mightie Prince, Philip by the grace of God Lantgraue of Hesse. &c. Thomas Naogeorgus his humble subiect wisheth. &c.
1
The Popish Kingdome.
The first Booke.
The
straunge disguised shape, and faith, of popish prowde estate,
The sundry orders, and the dayes they yerely consecrate
Good Muse declare, my force to weake, can not therto attaine:
Ne can disclose the mysteries, of such a matelesse raigne.
Oft haue we hearde the thundring fame, of Scythian scepter great,
The Turkes estate, and of the Indians farther distant seat:
The warlyke Parthyans powre beside, and stately Persian charge,
And of the Romanes all men knowes, the auncient empire large.
But these are nothing in respect, if any man doe way,
The farre surmounting maiestie, and powre of popish sway:
Whose Lordship lifteth vp it selfe, vnto the heauens hye,
And all the earth, whereon we dwell, to him doth subiect lye.
And all the Deuils deepe in hell, at his decrees doe quake,
So that the threefolde engyn of the worlde he makes to shake.
Nor vnaduisedly we speake, nor rashly thereof fayne,
The Pope himselfe doth chalenge this, in wordes and writings playne.
And lustily he doth defende, the same with tooth and naile.
Drawe neare therefore Calliopey, and let thy force preuaile.
And thou Apollo graunt thyne ayde, great matters here I sing,
Whereof the fame, blowne forth abrode, all Europe makes to ring.
Guide you my lately verse begunne, by perfite path and plaine,
Disclose the secret mysteries, of this so sacred raigne.
For though it thorowly be knowne, and easily appeeres,
To euery Wight, that here hath seene, the ende of thirtie yeeres.
The yonger age yet knowes it not, ne children haue it seene,
That haue bene taught, to treade the steppes, of Christs religion cleene.
And what of our posteritie, that many yeeres to come,
Shall not attayne to knowe the fayth, nor toyes of stately Rome.
Being many a hundred myles from thence, and dwelling farre away,
This booke shall well instruct them than, and shew them halfe the play.
If wormes doe not consume it first, nor Marchauntes occupye
It, for enclosing of their wares, that they farre hence doe bye:
Our question first, is, if from heauen this lustie bloud doe spring,
And whether thence he slipped downe, from that almightie King:
Or rather from the Stygian flouds he raysde himselfe so hye,
Created first by Sathan, and the spirites that damned lye,
To be a plague to Christian fayth, and vertuous famylie,
To fill the worlde with troubles, broyles, and wretched miserie?
Such as are bent to search the same, bring many causes strong:
And weightie arguments, and proues, the chiefest here among.
They from the fruites doe first deriue, and long they feede their eies,
To viewe the monstrous shape, that doth from doubtfull parent rise.
It is not much amisse, if that we say, he came from hie:
For Lucifer the Prince of pride, and all his companie,
That now doe trouble all the worlde, from heauen downe did fall,
At his commaundment, and his worde, that guides and gouernes all,
From heauen eke fell out the floudde, that all the worlde did drowne:
Besides on Sodom, came from thence, both fire and brimstone downe.
What if ye monstrous sinnes of men, wherwith the world did swarme,
Prouoked God to sende this plague, for their deserued harme.
Men made but small account of Christ, Gods worde esteemed vayne,
Eche heart was then peruersely bent, and truth had in disdayne.
Fayth was not to be founde at all, ne loue coulde once be seene,
And hellish sectes, had put to flight, the true religion cleene.
Eche eare was then set open wide, to learne deuises mad,
And ioyde to heare of teachers new, though they were neare so bad.
No difference made, of right or wrong, none sought the perfite way.
But euery man with willing minde, did yeelde himselfe a pray.
What maruell was it now, if that the almightie gaue them vp,
And suffred them to drinke their fill, of lying errors cup?
Besides, when all was husht and still, the chiefe, and learned sort,
Gaue ouer booke, and Pulpet quite, and gaue themselues to sport.
Still woondering at the worldly pompe, and hunting after gaine.
Eche one did seeke the others fall, with hatred and disdaine,
The stronger put the weake to worse, with ayde of Princely might,
Thus mallice touchte the high estates, who wondered at the spight,
And muzde what madnesse moude them thus, yt priestes & prelats great,
Shoulde thus with ciuill warres, enuie eche one the others seat.
Of these disorders, lewde, and great, what iudge you shoulde appeere,
But stoppes to sounde religion and this present kingdome heere?
While God th'offences punished, of this distempered minde,
And ouerwhelmde the idle heartes, with mistes and darcknesse blinde.
For both about one time began, the fonde religion vaine,
Of Mahomet his foolish law, and eke the popish raigne.
Two stubborne hornes to ouerthrowe, both fayth and vertuous minde,
And for to drowne the doubtfull worlde, with vice, and errours blinde.
For one thing, both of them we see, doe striue for to attaine,
Which is, that no remembrance might, of Iesus Christ remaine.
And that the searching out of truth, from men be pluckte away,
That so in errors thicke and grosse, they all may sooner stray.
Ne shalt thou much amisse affirme, if that thou doest declare,
That God hath plaste them in the worlde, as hornes that egall are.
For this the Pope himselfe presumes, and plainely doth decree,
And as a Key of fayth doth will, that it beleeued bee.
But for the same we will not striue, but easely giue him place,
Yet neyther can the Pope nor such, as him doe here imbrace,
Denie but many things he hath, at Sathans handes beene tought,
Which both in life and doctrine here, he oft hath lewdely wrought.
The sundry orders, and the dayes they yerely consecrate
Good Muse declare, my force to weake, can not therto attaine:
Ne can disclose the mysteries, of such a matelesse raigne.
Oft haue we hearde the thundring fame, of Scythian scepter great,
The Turkes estate, and of the Indians farther distant seat:
The warlyke Parthyans powre beside, and stately Persian charge,
And of the Romanes all men knowes, the auncient empire large.
But these are nothing in respect, if any man doe way,
The farre surmounting maiestie, and powre of popish sway:
Whose Lordship lifteth vp it selfe, vnto the heauens hye,
And all the earth, whereon we dwell, to him doth subiect lye.
And all the Deuils deepe in hell, at his decrees doe quake,
So that the threefolde engyn of the worlde he makes to shake.
Nor vnaduisedly we speake, nor rashly thereof fayne,
The Pope himselfe doth chalenge this, in wordes and writings playne.
And lustily he doth defende, the same with tooth and naile.
Drawe neare therefore Calliopey, and let thy force preuaile.
And thou Apollo graunt thyne ayde, great matters here I sing,
Whereof the fame, blowne forth abrode, all Europe makes to ring.
Guide you my lately verse begunne, by perfite path and plaine,
Disclose the secret mysteries, of this so sacred raigne.
For though it thorowly be knowne, and easily appeeres,
To euery Wight, that here hath seene, the ende of thirtie yeeres.
The yonger age yet knowes it not, ne children haue it seene,
That haue bene taught, to treade the steppes, of Christs religion cleene.
And what of our posteritie, that many yeeres to come,
Shall not attayne to knowe the fayth, nor toyes of stately Rome.
Being many a hundred myles from thence, and dwelling farre away,
This booke shall well instruct them than, and shew them halfe the play.
If wormes doe not consume it first, nor Marchauntes occupye
It, for enclosing of their wares, that they farre hence doe bye:
Our question first, is, if from heauen this lustie bloud doe spring,
And whether thence he slipped downe, from that almightie King:
[1]
Created first by Sathan, and the spirites that damned lye,
To be a plague to Christian fayth, and vertuous famylie,
To fill the worlde with troubles, broyles, and wretched miserie?
Such as are bent to search the same, bring many causes strong:
And weightie arguments, and proues, the chiefest here among.
They from the fruites doe first deriue, and long they feede their eies,
To viewe the monstrous shape, that doth from doubtfull parent rise.
It is not much amisse, if that we say, he came from hie:
For Lucifer the Prince of pride, and all his companie,
That now doe trouble all the worlde, from heauen downe did fall,
At his commaundment, and his worde, that guides and gouernes all,
From heauen eke fell out the floudde, that all the worlde did drowne:
Besides on Sodom, came from thence, both fire and brimstone downe.
What if ye monstrous sinnes of men, wherwith the world did swarme,
Prouoked God to sende this plague, for their deserued harme.
Men made but small account of Christ, Gods worde esteemed vayne,
Eche heart was then peruersely bent, and truth had in disdayne.
Fayth was not to be founde at all, ne loue coulde once be seene,
And hellish sectes, had put to flight, the true religion cleene.
Eche eare was then set open wide, to learne deuises mad,
And ioyde to heare of teachers new, though they were neare so bad.
No difference made, of right or wrong, none sought the perfite way.
But euery man with willing minde, did yeelde himselfe a pray.
What maruell was it now, if that the almightie gaue them vp,
And suffred them to drinke their fill, of lying errors cup?
Besides, when all was husht and still, the chiefe, and learned sort,
Gaue ouer booke, and Pulpet quite, and gaue themselues to sport.
Still woondering at the worldly pompe, and hunting after gaine.
Eche one did seeke the others fall, with hatred and disdaine,
The stronger put the weake to worse, with ayde of Princely might,
Thus mallice touchte the high estates, who wondered at the spight,
And muzde what madnesse moude them thus, yt priestes & prelats great,
Shoulde thus with ciuill warres, enuie eche one the others seat.
Of these disorders, lewde, and great, what iudge you shoulde appeere,
But stoppes to sounde religion and this present kingdome heere?
2
And ouerwhelmde the idle heartes, with mistes and darcknesse blinde.
For both about one time began, the fonde religion vaine,
Of Mahomet his foolish law, and eke the popish raigne.
Two stubborne hornes to ouerthrowe, both fayth and vertuous minde,
And for to drowne the doubtfull worlde, with vice, and errours blinde.
For one thing, both of them we see, doe striue for to attaine,
Which is, that no remembrance might, of Iesus Christ remaine.
And that the searching out of truth, from men be pluckte away,
That so in errors thicke and grosse, they all may sooner stray.
Ne shalt thou much amisse affirme, if that thou doest declare,
That God hath plaste them in the worlde, as hornes that egall are.
For this the Pope himselfe presumes, and plainely doth decree,
And as a Key of fayth doth will, that it beleeued bee.
But for the same we will not striue, but easely giue him place,
Yet neyther can the Pope nor such, as him doe here imbrace,
Denie but many things he hath, at Sathans handes beene tought,
Which both in life and doctrine here, he oft hath lewdely wrought.
But of this wondrous Empire great, the heade I now declare,
Surnamed Pope, a name that once to those that meanest weare
Amongst the Bishops common was, till such time as alone,
The Romish Bishop chalengde it, resisted then of none.
What coulde they doe? now was he great, and to be fearde of all,
Not onely through his earthly force, but powre celestiall.
This Pope doth boast himselfe to haue, the keyes of heauen gates,
And braue in scutchin blaseth them, that Kings and high estates,
And common people bent to lyes, may know that none can clime
To heauen, to be placed there, without his power deuine.
Without his warraunt, or his graunt, for in his gift doth ly,
The skies, and happie life, and whom he list he putteth by.
And with a worde, he hoyseth vp, vnto the starry raigne,
Euen whom he listes, and where him likes, he casteth downe againe,
Vnto the bottome deepe of hell, he byndes, and loseth all,
Euen as a perfect Marshall of, the chiefe and highest hall.
To great an Empire sure is this, and dreadfull power to heare,
Whereat great Dukes haue trembled, and Princes quakte for feare.
Both noble men, and people poore, their countnaunce now let fall,
When as they heard the name of Pope, and such a power withall.
For euery man accompted sure, that after losse of life,
They should receyue eternall blisse, and heauen, voyde of strife.
But how poore wretches, may they now the heauens hope to win,
When as the Pope doth keepe the keyes, and wardes the comming in?
Therefore of all men must he needes, as God be worshipped,
Yea, no man sought to haue the ayde of God himselfe in dede.
Nor minded his commaundements, his threates, nor promises,
For why, the terrour of this Pope, eche minde did now distres,
That God coulde haue no part thereof, who yet regardes not part,
But chalengeth, as due to him, the whole of euery hart.
We know full well, that Peter, and all such of Peters minde,
Receyue these heauenly keyes of Christ, and powre to lose and binde.
But in the gospell lyes this power, and farther doth not reache,
He shuttes, and closeth fast the doores, that doth this gospell preache,
To such as will not him beleeue, men beastly, voyde of shame,
And eke to vertuous men and good, he openeth wide the same.
Thus doth he binde the stubborne sorte, and men of froward kinde,
With gospels force, and not by power, of his presumptious minde.
Farre otherwise the Pope doth worke, as well we may beholde,
He preacheth not as Peter did, nor feedes the Christian folde,
Ne doth he trauell in the worde, with any learning pure,
But countes himselfe the guide of fayth, and life that shall endure.
Which powre no God, nor man him gaue, yet so it hath bene wayde,
That Emprours, Kings, and Dukes and all, haue him as God obayde.
So much hath lewde perswasion done, from wrested scriptures brought
That for the entring heauen gates, and ioyes of all men sought:
As subiect here the fayth he kept, and heart of all men helde,
Except the Greekes, that neuer woulde, such honor to him yelde.
For all the Italians, Spaniardes, and the French, their neighbours nie,
The Scottes, the Englishe people, and the men of Germanie,
Th'ungarians, Danes, and Norweyes both, Bohemians eke beside
And Irelande, Russia, and Poland, with woodes and pastures wide,
In fine, whersoeuer the Latine name, hath earst bene blowne & spreade.
Doe honour, feare, and worship eke, the Pope as chiefe and heade:
And gyuer of eternall life, thus farre he rules the skies,
And more he seekes: but on the earth he still doth exercise
All things that long to God, or man, appoynted by the highest,
To be a factor here for God, and Uicar vnto Christ,
Who euermore is present here, in power, and sacred breath,
The heade of that same spouse, that he redeemed with his death,
And washed with his precious bloud, from spots and wrinckles cleene.
And is not this aduoultry now, and madnesse plainely seene,
To boast himselfe to be the head, and guide an others wife?
Who can abide this? Christ, that bought hir here, with losse of life?
Yet sayth he, Christ did leaue him here hir head, who payde this price,
Thus shames he not to blinde the worlde, with falshood and with vice.
Moreouer least that some should spring, that might his powre deface,
And both by scripture, worde and witte, depriue him of his grace,
He warely layes the Byble vp, and willes that none doe take
It, otherwise than he himself, doth in his comment make.
And with decrees he doth forbid, that none so hardie bee,
As moude by loue of troth, or hate of falshoode, for to see
The sacred leaues, or to expounde them, but as he doth teache,
Nor priuately, nor openly, vnto the people preache,
(Then he himselfe alowes, nor none) may on the same depende,
But such as thereby builde his reigne, and doe his power commende.
And thus against the scriptures force, he easily buildes his forte,
Which scriptures should be most of weight, amongst the christian sorte.
What helpe is now in arguments? what good can reason do?
Or whereto serues the sharpe deuise, that sheddes and partes in two
The troth from falshoode? all are blinde, the Pope doth only see,
And learnings lawes, and reasons good alonely iudgeth hee.
With Princes, people, Doctors, and the solemne counsels hye,
And whatsoeuer he decrees, must vnremoued lye,
And be receyued as a lawe, whereof may no man doubt,
But blyndefielde euery man must take, whatsoeuer he settes out.
And with an ill vnsauery taste, must downe the throte be sent,
What he propoundes, decrees, or dreames, or what he doth inuent.
And well he lookes to this, that none of him may iudgement giue,
Nor of his life nor wicked deedes, how ill so euer he liue.
Yea, though through his example lewde, he bringeth downe to hell,
Great troopes of men that viciously, vpon the earth doe dwell.
He may doe what him list and likes, and liueth here belowe,
As one that neyther feareth man, nor any God doth knowe.
His will for reason onely standes, and for a lawe must go,
Nor no man dare demaunde of him, why dost thou so, or so:
For why he can dispence withall, and chaunge with euery man,
Of right make wrong, and eke of wrong, make right againe he can.
What lawfull is, vniust he makes, vniustice eke is right,
And when it likes his holynesse, the Crow is also white.
The order here of nature good, he turnes another way,
And alters quite, what needes more words, on earth he beares the sway.
He breaketh with his worde the bonde, of faithfull maried mates,
And couples eke in mariage bed, the plaine forbidden states.
Gods holy lawes he alters quite, or taketh cleane from hence,
Or wretchedly he wresteth them, vnto some other sence.
No maruell then if that he deale with mans decrees so ill,
Discharging subiectes from their othe, and placing whom he will.
Permitting theft and robberie, so he may haue his share,
Bestowing others goodes, and bearing such as faithlesse are.
About his holy Aulters eke, he placeth in degree,
Such as haue falsely bene forsworne, and beastlyest men that bee.
But these are trifles in effect, of estimation none,
With him that holdes the heauenly keyes, and rules the worlde alone.
For to the auncient scriptures old, and word of God deuine,
Full lyke a prince he equall makes, his owne commaundments fine,
And words that from his mouth proceedes, from mouth that can not lye
Nor can deceyue, but doth support, the truth most painefully.
Wherfore it is both right and iust, that thus be doth perswade,
All such as seeke for lyfe, to obey the lawes that he hath made.
For what can be more true than those? what can be thought or done?
That shewes more beautifull, or doth in better order runne.
What helpeth sooner to attaine, the ioyes of happy life?
By this we know who is our heade, and ender of all strife.
And who doth keepe the glystering keyes, that opens heauen wide,
What neede we seeke for other ayde, or other Christ beside.
Who suffred death and cruell payne, for our offences madde,
And satisfied his fathers wrath, which we deserued hadde.
Besides into his hande he takes, the state of Cæsar hie,
That nothing in the worlde be founde, of any maiestie.
But he possesse and conquere it, and therefore doth he wright,
Himselfe as heyre apparent to the Empire here of right.
Whereto he hath perswaded Kinges, and men of eche degree,
Which wonderfull aboue the rest, appeereth vnto mee.
But all men with the name of God, he rules and threatens heare,
And with the same so stops their mouthes, that none dare hisse for feare,
Against that shamelesse wicked face, ne bragges he thus alone,
But vseth his vsurped powre, deliuerde him of none.
He maketh Kinges and giues the crowne, to such as serue him best,
Whereby he gets him trustie men, still ready at his hest.
Who if they waxe vnruly ones, or happen to rebell,
He plucks them from their kingdome straite, & casts them downe to hell.
With dreadfull lightning ouerwhelmde, and doth discharge anone,
Their subiectes from alegeance due, absoluing euery one.
If that they attempt with weapon to defende their realme and right,
Then mooues he other Kings in haste, and Princes for to fight,
And forth he sendes his proper bande, and all his force withall,
So that although the Prince be strong, he cannot match them all.
If leauing warres they list to striue, with writing openlye,
And to commit their cause and right vnto some councell hye,
In vaine it is no councell sittes, without his owne consent,
Nor may giue sentence otherwise, than after his intent.
And thus poore Prince no remedie, but yeelde he must at last,
And aske forgiuenesse for his faultes, and his offences past.
Most humbly bowing downe his knees, or falling on his face,
And kissing though against his will, his feete for hope of grace.
The stories tell that once there was, an Emprour great of might,
Whose necke was stampt and trode vpon, by this deformed spright,
And vsde with most dispitefull wordes, whereby may plaine appere,
What powre the Pope doth chalenge ouer Kings and nations here.
That of the Church of Christ he is, not head nor Lorde alone,
But of the vniuersall worlde, and subiect vnto none.
Wherefore such Kings as wisedome haue, doe heare, and nothing say:
And dare not moue their lippes against the man that beares such sway.
But are content to holde their peace, and iudge their hap most sweete,
If once they may attayne to come to kisse his holy feete.
Ne woulde they doe this same to him that sittes in Turkish seate,
Nor to the mightiest Prince on earth, though he were neuer so greate.
And better were it sure by much, a thousande times to dye,
Then that such shame shoulde thus redownde vnto such Princes hye.
But as the Lorde of heauen and earth, this same to him they do,
And whatsoeuer he commaundes, they straight are readie to.
If that he will them warres to make, than Armour out of hande
They weare, and Cities strong they sacke, or spoyle some welthy lande.
They pill, and powle, and quite deface, the faire and plesaunt realmes,
They waste, they ransack, & distaine, eche place with blouddy streames.
If that he bid them take the life, or cast in dreadfull flame,
The learnde, vnlearnd, the Lord, the meane, they straight fulfill ye same.
Ne thinke it lawfull for to spare their parentes in this case,
Nor kinsemen nere, they burne and kill whereas it likes his grace.
Although they know no cause thereof, nor haue not wayde it right,
Yea though they know that it be naught, and onely came of spight.
Yet his commaundments must be done, for thus the father will,
And doth commaunde that euery lay man be contented still
With whatsoeuer he appoyntes, not asking how nor whye,
In things that touch the Church of Rome, but let the sentence lye.
Besides the Courts of euery Prince, to him must subiect bee.
If any happen to mislike, that they may francke and free
Appeale vnto the Court of Rome. A wonderous powre and might
In things that long to God and man to giue a iudgement right.
But be not thou herein deceyude, for this as all the rest
Doth smell of gaine, which how he gettes he taketh for the best.
So many things of Kings and Dukes and commons doth he gaine,
They freely graunting, since for that he giues the heauenly raigne.
Faire Countries, Castles, Dukedomes, States & famous cities large,
For blessed lyfe he doth receyue as things of little charge.
For Bishops often vse the ayde, of Kings in trifles small,
But Kings & Dukes haue neede of Popes, to saue their soules withall.
What cannot lewde perswasion doe, with cloake of godlinesse?
And more he hath decreede that such, as doe his lawes transgresse,
That all the rest his enimies be, who cannot with this porte,
Both Kings and Emprours ouerthrow, much more the poorer sorte?
Who would not feare the anger of, so great and blacke a traine?
Therefore doe Kings full warely flye, and wisely eke refraine,
From speaking euill of his grace, whatsoeuer hath bene donne,
And farre from such a God, and from his lightnings fast they runne.
Thus in the meane time lyues he safe, and free from euery man,
Since none he knowes may be his mate, nor none aboue him than,
Nor any that dare with him striue, or stoute against him stande,
He enters league with Princes and with kinges of euery lande.
With Cities and with people great, that liue at libertie,
And able are to decke the fieldes, with lustie cheualrie.
In fine both wise and ware he is, in euery kinde of case,
If all be still, and blessed peace, doe reigne in euery place:
Then straite he stirres and moueth warres, and helps the stronger side,
And will be sure to gaine a fleece, whosoeuer lose beside.
Thus seeking his commoditie, with losse of others bloode,
Sometime himselfe to battell goeth, with fonde and frantike moode.
His Gotish bearde long hanging downe, in shirte of mayle arayde.
Safe shrowded in his Corselet close, all gilt and ouerlayde.
Thus glistering all in armour braue, with spoyle and pillage rife,
He closeth stately townes with trenche, and threatneth losse of life
Unto his foes, with cannon shot he battereth downe a pace,
The loftie walles, or lying long doth cause them sue for grace.
And yelde for feare of famine vp, their townes and goods withall,
Then puttes he whome he list to sworde, for wordes and trespasse small.
And so to Rome returneth straite, his triumph with him ledde,
Lo, thus vpon the earth doth liue, our chiefe and soueraigne hedde.
Canst thou declare a worthier wight, or more excelling grace?
Then bring him forth, peruse the time, and searche in euery place.
Surnamed Pope, a name that once to those that meanest weare
Amongst the Bishops common was, till such time as alone,
The Romish Bishop chalengde it, resisted then of none.
What coulde they doe? now was he great, and to be fearde of all,
Not onely through his earthly force, but powre celestiall.
This Pope doth boast himselfe to haue, the keyes of heauen gates,
And braue in scutchin blaseth them, that Kings and high estates,
And common people bent to lyes, may know that none can clime
To heauen, to be placed there, without his power deuine.
Without his warraunt, or his graunt, for in his gift doth ly,
The skies, and happie life, and whom he list he putteth by.
And with a worde, he hoyseth vp, vnto the starry raigne,
Euen whom he listes, and where him likes, he casteth downe againe,
Vnto the bottome deepe of hell, he byndes, and loseth all,
Euen as a perfect Marshall of, the chiefe and highest hall.
To great an Empire sure is this, and dreadfull power to heare,
Whereat great Dukes haue trembled, and Princes quakte for feare.
[2]
When as they heard the name of Pope, and such a power withall.
For euery man accompted sure, that after losse of life,
They should receyue eternall blisse, and heauen, voyde of strife.
But how poore wretches, may they now the heauens hope to win,
When as the Pope doth keepe the keyes, and wardes the comming in?
Therefore of all men must he needes, as God be worshipped,
Yea, no man sought to haue the ayde of God himselfe in dede.
Nor minded his commaundements, his threates, nor promises,
For why, the terrour of this Pope, eche minde did now distres,
That God coulde haue no part thereof, who yet regardes not part,
But chalengeth, as due to him, the whole of euery hart.
We know full well, that Peter, and all such of Peters minde,
Receyue these heauenly keyes of Christ, and powre to lose and binde.
But in the gospell lyes this power, and farther doth not reache,
He shuttes, and closeth fast the doores, that doth this gospell preache,
To such as will not him beleeue, men beastly, voyde of shame,
And eke to vertuous men and good, he openeth wide the same.
Thus doth he binde the stubborne sorte, and men of froward kinde,
With gospels force, and not by power, of his presumptious minde.
Farre otherwise the Pope doth worke, as well we may beholde,
He preacheth not as Peter did, nor feedes the Christian folde,
Ne doth he trauell in the worde, with any learning pure,
But countes himselfe the guide of fayth, and life that shall endure.
Which powre no God, nor man him gaue, yet so it hath bene wayde,
That Emprours, Kings, and Dukes and all, haue him as God obayde.
So much hath lewde perswasion done, from wrested scriptures brought
That for the entring heauen gates, and ioyes of all men sought:
As subiect here the fayth he kept, and heart of all men helde,
Except the Greekes, that neuer woulde, such honor to him yelde.
For all the Italians, Spaniardes, and the French, their neighbours nie,
The Scottes, the Englishe people, and the men of Germanie,
Th'ungarians, Danes, and Norweyes both, Bohemians eke beside
And Irelande, Russia, and Poland, with woodes and pastures wide,
In fine, whersoeuer the Latine name, hath earst bene blowne & spreade.
Doe honour, feare, and worship eke, the Pope as chiefe and heade:
3
And more he seekes: but on the earth he still doth exercise
All things that long to God, or man, appoynted by the highest,
To be a factor here for God, and Uicar vnto Christ,
Who euermore is present here, in power, and sacred breath,
The heade of that same spouse, that he redeemed with his death,
And washed with his precious bloud, from spots and wrinckles cleene.
And is not this aduoultry now, and madnesse plainely seene,
To boast himselfe to be the head, and guide an others wife?
Who can abide this? Christ, that bought hir here, with losse of life?
Yet sayth he, Christ did leaue him here hir head, who payde this price,
Thus shames he not to blinde the worlde, with falshood and with vice.
Moreouer least that some should spring, that might his powre deface,
And both by scripture, worde and witte, depriue him of his grace,
He warely layes the Byble vp, and willes that none doe take
It, otherwise than he himself, doth in his comment make.
And with decrees he doth forbid, that none so hardie bee,
As moude by loue of troth, or hate of falshoode, for to see
The sacred leaues, or to expounde them, but as he doth teache,
Nor priuately, nor openly, vnto the people preache,
(Then he himselfe alowes, nor none) may on the same depende,
But such as thereby builde his reigne, and doe his power commende.
And thus against the scriptures force, he easily buildes his forte,
Which scriptures should be most of weight, amongst the christian sorte.
What helpe is now in arguments? what good can reason do?
Or whereto serues the sharpe deuise, that sheddes and partes in two
The troth from falshoode? all are blinde, the Pope doth only see,
And learnings lawes, and reasons good alonely iudgeth hee.
With Princes, people, Doctors, and the solemne counsels hye,
And whatsoeuer he decrees, must vnremoued lye,
And be receyued as a lawe, whereof may no man doubt,
But blyndefielde euery man must take, whatsoeuer he settes out.
And with an ill vnsauery taste, must downe the throte be sent,
What he propoundes, decrees, or dreames, or what he doth inuent.
And well he lookes to this, that none of him may iudgement giue,
Nor of his life nor wicked deedes, how ill so euer he liue.
[3]
Great troopes of men that viciously, vpon the earth doe dwell.
He may doe what him list and likes, and liueth here belowe,
As one that neyther feareth man, nor any God doth knowe.
His will for reason onely standes, and for a lawe must go,
Nor no man dare demaunde of him, why dost thou so, or so:
For why he can dispence withall, and chaunge with euery man,
Of right make wrong, and eke of wrong, make right againe he can.
What lawfull is, vniust he makes, vniustice eke is right,
And when it likes his holynesse, the Crow is also white.
The order here of nature good, he turnes another way,
And alters quite, what needes more words, on earth he beares the sway.
He breaketh with his worde the bonde, of faithfull maried mates,
And couples eke in mariage bed, the plaine forbidden states.
Gods holy lawes he alters quite, or taketh cleane from hence,
Or wretchedly he wresteth them, vnto some other sence.
No maruell then if that he deale with mans decrees so ill,
Discharging subiectes from their othe, and placing whom he will.
Permitting theft and robberie, so he may haue his share,
Bestowing others goodes, and bearing such as faithlesse are.
About his holy Aulters eke, he placeth in degree,
Such as haue falsely bene forsworne, and beastlyest men that bee.
But these are trifles in effect, of estimation none,
With him that holdes the heauenly keyes, and rules the worlde alone.
For to the auncient scriptures old, and word of God deuine,
Full lyke a prince he equall makes, his owne commaundments fine,
And words that from his mouth proceedes, from mouth that can not lye
Nor can deceyue, but doth support, the truth most painefully.
Wherfore it is both right and iust, that thus be doth perswade,
All such as seeke for lyfe, to obey the lawes that he hath made.
For what can be more true than those? what can be thought or done?
That shewes more beautifull, or doth in better order runne.
What helpeth sooner to attaine, the ioyes of happy life?
By this we know who is our heade, and ender of all strife.
And who doth keepe the glystering keyes, that opens heauen wide,
What neede we seeke for other ayde, or other Christ beside.
4
And satisfied his fathers wrath, which we deserued hadde.
Besides into his hande he takes, the state of Cæsar hie,
That nothing in the worlde be founde, of any maiestie.
But he possesse and conquere it, and therefore doth he wright,
Himselfe as heyre apparent to the Empire here of right.
Whereto he hath perswaded Kinges, and men of eche degree,
Which wonderfull aboue the rest, appeereth vnto mee.
But all men with the name of God, he rules and threatens heare,
And with the same so stops their mouthes, that none dare hisse for feare,
Against that shamelesse wicked face, ne bragges he thus alone,
But vseth his vsurped powre, deliuerde him of none.
He maketh Kinges and giues the crowne, to such as serue him best,
Whereby he gets him trustie men, still ready at his hest.
Who if they waxe vnruly ones, or happen to rebell,
He plucks them from their kingdome straite, & casts them downe to hell.
With dreadfull lightning ouerwhelmde, and doth discharge anone,
Their subiectes from alegeance due, absoluing euery one.
If that they attempt with weapon to defende their realme and right,
Then mooues he other Kings in haste, and Princes for to fight,
And forth he sendes his proper bande, and all his force withall,
So that although the Prince be strong, he cannot match them all.
If leauing warres they list to striue, with writing openlye,
And to commit their cause and right vnto some councell hye,
In vaine it is no councell sittes, without his owne consent,
Nor may giue sentence otherwise, than after his intent.
And thus poore Prince no remedie, but yeelde he must at last,
And aske forgiuenesse for his faultes, and his offences past.
Most humbly bowing downe his knees, or falling on his face,
And kissing though against his will, his feete for hope of grace.
The stories tell that once there was, an Emprour great of might,
Whose necke was stampt and trode vpon, by this deformed spright,
And vsde with most dispitefull wordes, whereby may plaine appere,
What powre the Pope doth chalenge ouer Kings and nations here.
That of the Church of Christ he is, not head nor Lorde alone,
But of the vniuersall worlde, and subiect vnto none.
[4]
And dare not moue their lippes against the man that beares such sway.
But are content to holde their peace, and iudge their hap most sweete,
If once they may attayne to come to kisse his holy feete.
Ne woulde they doe this same to him that sittes in Turkish seate,
Nor to the mightiest Prince on earth, though he were neuer so greate.
And better were it sure by much, a thousande times to dye,
Then that such shame shoulde thus redownde vnto such Princes hye.
But as the Lorde of heauen and earth, this same to him they do,
And whatsoeuer he commaundes, they straight are readie to.
If that he will them warres to make, than Armour out of hande
They weare, and Cities strong they sacke, or spoyle some welthy lande.
They pill, and powle, and quite deface, the faire and plesaunt realmes,
They waste, they ransack, & distaine, eche place with blouddy streames.
If that he bid them take the life, or cast in dreadfull flame,
The learnde, vnlearnd, the Lord, the meane, they straight fulfill ye same.
Ne thinke it lawfull for to spare their parentes in this case,
Nor kinsemen nere, they burne and kill whereas it likes his grace.
Although they know no cause thereof, nor haue not wayde it right,
Yea though they know that it be naught, and onely came of spight.
Yet his commaundments must be done, for thus the father will,
And doth commaunde that euery lay man be contented still
With whatsoeuer he appoyntes, not asking how nor whye,
In things that touch the Church of Rome, but let the sentence lye.
Besides the Courts of euery Prince, to him must subiect bee.
If any happen to mislike, that they may francke and free
Appeale vnto the Court of Rome. A wonderous powre and might
In things that long to God and man to giue a iudgement right.
But be not thou herein deceyude, for this as all the rest
Doth smell of gaine, which how he gettes he taketh for the best.
So many things of Kings and Dukes and commons doth he gaine,
They freely graunting, since for that he giues the heauenly raigne.
Faire Countries, Castles, Dukedomes, States & famous cities large,
For blessed lyfe he doth receyue as things of little charge.
For Bishops often vse the ayde, of Kings in trifles small,
But Kings & Dukes haue neede of Popes, to saue their soules withall.
5
And more he hath decreede that such, as doe his lawes transgresse,
That all the rest his enimies be, who cannot with this porte,
Both Kings and Emprours ouerthrow, much more the poorer sorte?
Who would not feare the anger of, so great and blacke a traine?
Therefore doe Kings full warely flye, and wisely eke refraine,
From speaking euill of his grace, whatsoeuer hath bene donne,
And farre from such a God, and from his lightnings fast they runne.
Thus in the meane time lyues he safe, and free from euery man,
Since none he knowes may be his mate, nor none aboue him than,
Nor any that dare with him striue, or stoute against him stande,
He enters league with Princes and with kinges of euery lande.
With Cities and with people great, that liue at libertie,
And able are to decke the fieldes, with lustie cheualrie.
In fine both wise and ware he is, in euery kinde of case,
If all be still, and blessed peace, doe reigne in euery place:
Then straite he stirres and moueth warres, and helps the stronger side,
And will be sure to gaine a fleece, whosoeuer lose beside.
Thus seeking his commoditie, with losse of others bloode,
Sometime himselfe to battell goeth, with fonde and frantike moode.
His Gotish bearde long hanging downe, in shirte of mayle arayde.
Safe shrowded in his Corselet close, all gilt and ouerlayde.
Thus glistering all in armour braue, with spoyle and pillage rife,
He closeth stately townes with trenche, and threatneth losse of life
Unto his foes, with cannon shot he battereth downe a pace,
The loftie walles, or lying long doth cause them sue for grace.
And yelde for feare of famine vp, their townes and goods withall,
Then puttes he whome he list to sworde, for wordes and trespasse small.
And so to Rome returneth straite, his triumph with him ledde,
Lo, thus vpon the earth doth liue, our chiefe and soueraigne hedde.
Canst thou declare a worthier wight, or more excelling grace?
Then bring him forth, peruse the time, and searche in euery place.
Hence sendes he downe his power into, the smokie pitte of hell,
With charmes and solemne ceremonies, and dayes agreeing well.
Where though he cannot cleerely lose, the damned soules from chaynes
Ne quench the furious firye flames, nor ceasse the raging paynes.
Nor breake the swift still turning wheeles, nor kill the dreadfull snakes,
Yet with his voyce their torments all and greeues more light he makes.
So that the wretched soules haue ease, whilst certayne howres last,
Ne burnes the fire, nor gnawes the worme, nor turnes ye wheele so fast.
For if that Orpheus with his songes, Megæras whip coulde stay,
And cease the byting of the wormes, and hellish paines alay.
Why shoulde the Pope not doe so much, the King of earth and skyes?
Besides, an other kinde of fire to purge he doth deuyse,
Whereas he raines himselfe alone, and showes his force and might.
From hence he looseth soules, and sendes them to the heauens bright,
With pardons, prayers, himnes and giftes, ne forceth much the same
Although the soules three hundred yeares haue burnt in firie flame,
If at the length some golden showre doe happen for to fall,
In little space it driues him out, and makes an ende of all.
Whole kinredes loseth he with this, and keepeth from the fyer,
Whereas his fauour doth extend, and wheare he hath his hier.
Himselfe not Pluto can resist, nor all his army blacke,
Although they striue with clawes to stay, or pluck with fleshokes backe
His voyce makes all the fiendes afrayde, and from the bottom deepe,
He hoyseth vp the weeping soules, in blessed ioyes to sleepe.
What King, Apostle, Prophet else? coulde euer doe this feat,
There neuer was, nor is, nor shall, be any power so great.
With charmes and solemne ceremonies, and dayes agreeing well.
Where though he cannot cleerely lose, the damned soules from chaynes
Ne quench the furious firye flames, nor ceasse the raging paynes.
[5]
Yet with his voyce their torments all and greeues more light he makes.
So that the wretched soules haue ease, whilst certayne howres last,
Ne burnes the fire, nor gnawes the worme, nor turnes ye wheele so fast.
For if that Orpheus with his songes, Megæras whip coulde stay,
And cease the byting of the wormes, and hellish paines alay.
Why shoulde the Pope not doe so much, the King of earth and skyes?
Besides, an other kinde of fire to purge he doth deuyse,
Whereas he raines himselfe alone, and showes his force and might.
From hence he looseth soules, and sendes them to the heauens bright,
With pardons, prayers, himnes and giftes, ne forceth much the same
Although the soules three hundred yeares haue burnt in firie flame,
If at the length some golden showre doe happen for to fall,
In little space it driues him out, and makes an ende of all.
Whole kinredes loseth he with this, and keepeth from the fyer,
Whereas his fauour doth extend, and wheare he hath his hier.
Himselfe not Pluto can resist, nor all his army blacke,
Although they striue with clawes to stay, or pluck with fleshokes backe
His voyce makes all the fiendes afrayde, and from the bottom deepe,
He hoyseth vp the weeping soules, in blessed ioyes to sleepe.
What King, Apostle, Prophet else? coulde euer doe this feat,
There neuer was, nor is, nor shall, be any power so great.
Moreouer any Wight on earth, in robes he passeth cleene,
If any time in maiestie, he listeth to be seene.
With clothes of purple couerde quite, which long about him fall,
With silke and crimson shining bright, and cloth of golde withall,
Beset with precious stones and pearle, that costly India beares,
Such as no Queene of Egipt would, haue dronk or drawne from eares.
Aboue all this his triple crowne, doth shine and glister bright,
With beautie lyke of stones arayde, of straunge and wondrous sight.
His Crosier then with double crosse, all framde of finest golde,
May here be seene, no siluer shew, may any man beholde.
Except some solemne day require, I leaue out here among,
His chiefest pompe, his stately traine, and garde in armour strong.
Their order eke, and how they stande, their cerimonies sweete,
With bookes & bels their iesture straunge, with head wt hands & feete,
Besides a number of the lyke, which heare were long to tell.
If that his welth, his pride, and pompe: thou hast regarded well,
And all his fonde condicions lewde, thou shalt not finde his mate
On all the earth, that more doth seeke the ioyes of worldly state.
The earth is also holy thought, wheresoeuer his feete doe stande,
And euery thing is holy made, that commeth neere his hande.
Wherefore to Church he neuer goeth, but borne on shoulders hye,
Euen as the sacred Arke whereas, the Manna hidde doth lye.
O Lorde, that shame cannot compell these men to come away,
And that they haue no feare of God, nor of the latter day.
This is the shamelesse forheade of that purple Hore vncleane,
Wherby she sottes and mockes the worlde, without all ende or meane.
If any time in maiestie, he listeth to be seene.
With clothes of purple couerde quite, which long about him fall,
With silke and crimson shining bright, and cloth of golde withall,
Beset with precious stones and pearle, that costly India beares,
Such as no Queene of Egipt would, haue dronk or drawne from eares.
Aboue all this his triple crowne, doth shine and glister bright,
With beautie lyke of stones arayde, of straunge and wondrous sight.
His Crosier then with double crosse, all framde of finest golde,
May here be seene, no siluer shew, may any man beholde.
Except some solemne day require, I leaue out here among,
His chiefest pompe, his stately traine, and garde in armour strong.
Their order eke, and how they stande, their cerimonies sweete,
With bookes & bels their iesture straunge, with head wt hands & feete,
6
If that his welth, his pride, and pompe: thou hast regarded well,
And all his fonde condicions lewde, thou shalt not finde his mate
On all the earth, that more doth seeke the ioyes of worldly state.
The earth is also holy thought, wheresoeuer his feete doe stande,
And euery thing is holy made, that commeth neere his hande.
Wherefore to Church he neuer goeth, but borne on shoulders hye,
Euen as the sacred Arke whereas, the Manna hidde doth lye.
O Lorde, that shame cannot compell these men to come away,
And that they haue no feare of God, nor of the latter day.
This is the shamelesse forheade of that purple Hore vncleane,
Wherby she sottes and mockes the worlde, without all ende or meane.
Thou askst parhaps what shift he makes, these chargis to maintaine,
Demaunde no more, no Prince nor King, nor Emprour heare againe
Hath so much siluer in his Chest, nor store of golden sommes,
And of a welthie Peter eke, I know not whence he commes.
He hath the whole inheritance, that large and brode doth ly,
With Cities great, and fruitfull soyles, and portes and hauens by.
Eke hath he Rome the Queene and heade, of all the worlde before,
So that a thousande talentes yearely commeth in, or more.
Besides a greater somme he doth throughout the worlde receaue,
By selling heauen, and pardning faultes, and graunting powre & leaue,
And by his Annates much he gettes, these termes themselues do faine,
Which wordes I heare am forcde to vse, to shew their vsage plaine.
The pelting Pals besides doe get, and gayne him treasures great,
The Bishops confirmation lyke, and welthy Abbots seat.
What profite comes by Prebenders, when as with bribes they play
Eche one to winne, where who giues most, goeth conquerour away.
Yea certayne monthes he chuseth out, and times in euerie yeare,
Wherin an others due and right, to him belongeth cleare.
What shoulde I euery thing declare, he falsely deales in all,
And vpon euery morsell fatte, his crooked Talentes fall,
And parte he takes in euery place, he huntes for money rounde
Both heare amongst the lyuing and such as are brought to grounde.
That so his chestes may still be full, and Golde may alwayes flowe,
Which vpon furious warres he doth, and houses fayre bestowe,
In building Bridges, Temples, Towres, and costly Chappels fayre,
In placeing of his kinsemen hie, in loftie Lordely chayre.
In ryot, pleasure, and disporte, and sumptuous banketings,
That long to worldly Princes here, and other heathen Kings.
Which represents some Perses stoute, or Cræsus full of pride,
And not like Christes Apostles true, or any christian guide.
Demaunde no more, no Prince nor King, nor Emprour heare againe
Hath so much siluer in his Chest, nor store of golden sommes,
And of a welthie Peter eke, I know not whence he commes.
He hath the whole inheritance, that large and brode doth ly,
With Cities great, and fruitfull soyles, and portes and hauens by.
Eke hath he Rome the Queene and heade, of all the worlde before,
So that a thousande talentes yearely commeth in, or more.
Besides a greater somme he doth throughout the worlde receaue,
By selling heauen, and pardning faultes, and graunting powre & leaue,
And by his Annates much he gettes, these termes themselues do faine,
Which wordes I heare am forcde to vse, to shew their vsage plaine.
The pelting Pals besides doe get, and gayne him treasures great,
The Bishops confirmation lyke, and welthy Abbots seat.
What profite comes by Prebenders, when as with bribes they play
Eche one to winne, where who giues most, goeth conquerour away.
Yea certayne monthes he chuseth out, and times in euerie yeare,
Wherin an others due and right, to him belongeth cleare.
What shoulde I euery thing declare, he falsely deales in all,
And vpon euery morsell fatte, his crooked Talentes fall,
And parte he takes in euery place, he huntes for money rounde
Both heare amongst the lyuing and such as are brought to grounde.
That so his chestes may still be full, and Golde may alwayes flowe,
Which vpon furious warres he doth, and houses fayre bestowe,
[6]
In placeing of his kinsemen hie, in loftie Lordely chayre.
In ryot, pleasure, and disporte, and sumptuous banketings,
That long to worldly Princes here, and other heathen Kings.
Which represents some Perses stoute, or Cræsus full of pride,
And not like Christes Apostles true, or any christian guide.
Desirst thou for to knowe his trade, and steps in liuing right,
All full of pompe and glorie it is, and foolishe vaine delight.
Such filthie actes I will not tell, as Fame doth true reporte,
Least that I staine my verse and booke, in lewde and filthy sorte.
But now regarde aduisedly in all that hath beene tolde,
If any thing Apostlelyke, or christianlike doth holde.
Or neere vnto that doctrine pure, that Christ himselfe hath tought,
Or that may holy counted be, or Catholike be thought.
Nothing against the glorie more, of God thou canst declare,
Nor nothing that more filthie seemes, than this if we compare.
Wherefore at this time many bee, that thinke and plainely saye,
That Antichrist possesseth Rome, and doth the Bishop playe.
Wherefore they from his name doe flye, and from his fonde decrees,
His orders, doctrine, temples, and his solemne mysteries:
None otherwise than from a Beare, or Lion in their way,
And in the morning blesse themselues, least that they happe that day,
To meete some shauen oyled beast, or else some other Grome,
Belonging to the filthye Court, and popishe sea of Rome.
I maruell therefore why that men, shoulde call him by the name,
Of holyest, since no man yet, coulde holy prooue the same.
But rather naught. The place can not, nor yet his chiefe degree,
Nor all his ryches pompe or pride, can prooue him good to bee.
Wherefore good Phæbus here declare, by Oracle deuine,
And eke you learned Muses all, this matter here define.
Wherein this man shoulde here be thought, Apostolike to bee,
Or holiest calde, we know no cause, nor no desart we see.
And doe you smile? would you that we, should know the collour dim,
Of phrase contrarie, and after that, in all things iudge of him?
All full of pompe and glorie it is, and foolishe vaine delight.
Such filthie actes I will not tell, as Fame doth true reporte,
Least that I staine my verse and booke, in lewde and filthy sorte.
But now regarde aduisedly in all that hath beene tolde,
If any thing Apostlelyke, or christianlike doth holde.
Or neere vnto that doctrine pure, that Christ himselfe hath tought,
Or that may holy counted be, or Catholike be thought.
Nothing against the glorie more, of God thou canst declare,
Nor nothing that more filthie seemes, than this if we compare.
Wherefore at this time many bee, that thinke and plainely saye,
That Antichrist possesseth Rome, and doth the Bishop playe.
Wherefore they from his name doe flye, and from his fonde decrees,
His orders, doctrine, temples, and his solemne mysteries:
None otherwise than from a Beare, or Lion in their way,
And in the morning blesse themselues, least that they happe that day,
To meete some shauen oyled beast, or else some other Grome,
Belonging to the filthye Court, and popishe sea of Rome.
I maruell therefore why that men, shoulde call him by the name,
Of holyest, since no man yet, coulde holy prooue the same.
But rather naught. The place can not, nor yet his chiefe degree,
Nor all his ryches pompe or pride, can prooue him good to bee.
Wherefore good Phæbus here declare, by Oracle deuine,
And eke you learned Muses all, this matter here define.
Wherein this man shoulde here be thought, Apostolike to bee,
Or holiest calde, we know no cause, nor no desart we see.
And doe you smile? would you that we, should know the collour dim,
Of phrase contrarie, and after that, in all things iudge of him?
Thus of this present kingdome here, the goodly head I deeme,
Thou well perceyust, but better shouldst, if thou at Rome hadst beene
And any time continued there, and seene him face to face,
Then shouldst thou wel haue vewde thy selfe, his whole & comely grace
Thou well perceyust, but better shouldst, if thou at Rome hadst beene
7
Then shouldst thou wel haue vewde thy selfe, his whole & comely grace
The other pillors of this kingdome, now I will declare,
That beare a sway aboue the rest, and chiefe and greatest are.
Such as this head createth and doth ioyne with him to guide,
But full and whole authoritie, is vnto them denyde.
The greatest, and the chiefest are, those men that take their name,
Of Charnels that are fixed fast, and beare the doore in frame.
Bycause that on these holy hookes, these kingdomes gates doe stande,
And that the care and cure thereof, they wholy take in hande.
Out of this holy company the Pope himselfe doth spring,
And to no other doth belong, the choyse of such a King.
The most of them are learned men, and borne of houses good,
But fauour oftentimes of friendes, and highnesse of their blood,
Doth bring th'unlearned herevnto, and such as are not wise.
These men if from their woonted state, of life they did not rise,
Unto such honour great, perhaps they woulde be godly bent,
And labour in the workes of Christ, with good and true intent.
But as they be neuer can, for honour spilles them quite,
And makes them labour for to keepe, this welthie raigne vpright.
And by their oth they promise all, and fayth assured giue,
This kingdome here withall their might, to maintaine whilst they liue:
And first that no pretence against the Pope permitted bee,
Nor that he haue dishonour here, nor losse of libertie.
And secondly, that nothing of his kingdome here decay,
Nor of his Lawes and ceremonies (though lewde) be pulde away.
Thus safe through their defence and ayde, the Pope now feareth not,
But safely keepes that he hath long, with frawde and lying got:
These therefore as his councellors, and faythfull doth he take,
Who rather will be peecemeale torne, than once their prince forsake.
And these in message doth he sende, to Kinges and Princes greate,
Whereby he may their councelles learne, and better worke his feate.
Then dredfull warres he doth perswade, or else some peace to take,
Which he perceyues that best shall for his owne aduauntage make.
Or else some foolish matter doth, he wrongfully defende,
Or moueth them that heritikes, be brought to cruell ende,
Or vnder colour false of Turkes, for ayde he labours long,
Deuiseth some attonements new, or breakes the friendship strong.
The people runne to meete them straite, the councell doe resorte,
Sometime the Prince himselfe doth go, but all the oyled sorte
With shauen pates doe forwarde marche, with loftie crosse in site,
The guydes and rulers of the schooles, all clad in surples white
And downe they ducke with solemne cheere, and many a crooked knee,
Beseeching God to sende them life, and long in health to bee.
Thus with this iolly welcome here, these fathers forth are led.
Who crosse and blesse with fingers oft, as men astonished
To see the peoples fondenesse such, they well themselues doe know,
They bring no good nor vertuous thing, yet prowd their port they show
And vse the peoples foolishnesse, thus forth in pompe they ride,
In costly Crimsons all arayde, and Purple hattes beside.
A number great of men they bring, with Moyles and horses fayre,
In princely order furnished, and diuers of them spare.
And euen at Rome this pompe is seene, and gorgeousnesse of life,
Where fleshly lust and belly cheere, remayneth alwayes rife:
The better to maintaine this state, and charges of the same,
And that they may be Cardnallike, and to their hed no shame,
They chosen are of prelates such, as welthiest were before,
Yet will not all this welth now serue, that earst suffisde and more.
Their charges now are growne so great, their sumptuousnesse is such,
Since first they attainde with greedie minde, ye Cardnals hatte to touch.
Of sundrie fetches haue they neede,and lyke their Captaine fine,
They must some kinde of wayes deuise, to frame a siluer mine.
And this they doe some months when as, the Pope doth beare the sway
They sease vpon some Prebens fatte, as on a pleasaunt pray.
And Monkish Abbeys rich they ketch, and take into their handes,
They polle the Monkes and oftentimes, reserue the cheefest landes.
The hooke hangs out on euery side, to bring in greater gaine,
Least they should lacke at any time, to furnishe out their traine.
Thou thinkst perhaps they do some good, or stand some Realme in stedde
Wherefore it is not much amisse, that thus they oft be spedde.
Thou art deceyude no good there comes, from them to any wight,
Except perhaps some one their friende, be brought in better plight.
A hatefull burthen are they to the worlde, and people plaine,
And Droanes that greedily consume, the fruites of others paine.
They serue their chiefe, and for his state, they ieoparde oft a ioynt,
But as for any other man, they weye him not a poynt.
If kingdomes great to ruine come, and people perish quite,
Or blood be spilt in euery place, they force it not a mite.
They laugh and with a rowting noyse, their greefe they plaine discrye,
But if themselues a Fle but bite, with gaping iawes they crye.
And God and man to witnesse call, what torment and what paine,
They suffer for the Church of God, and for the heauenly raine.
Whereas in deede they nothing feele, for hir they neuer knewe,
But for the Popes decrees and right, and honour to him due.
They ready are to suffer harme, wherefore they wander wide,
That thinke they weare their hattes of red, and purple garments side,
Bicause that with the losse of bloud, the folde of Christ they keepe.
It is a lye, they meddle not, with Christ nor with his sheepe.
They striue for ease, and for their fathers false vsurped hedde,
And sometime for to come by welth, their tender bloud is shedde.
Of such he makes in euery realme if any there excell,
And fauour things that longs to Rome, and are contented well,
To striue for them with learned bookes, with voyce with tongue & hand
They thinke themselues in paradice, and happiest for to stand.
While he regardes them not a whit, nor all their honour vaine,
But looketh onely to himselfe, and to his lustie raigne.
And riches here by helpe whereof, and wretched life beside,
He framed Rome the glasse of fayth, the sampler and the guide.
A guide in deede if that thou mindste, to trauell vnto hell,
And to be shutte out from the place where God himselfe doth dwell.
Their office thus, thou hast their lyfe, and all their fonde arayes,
But seest thou ought Apostolike, or that deserueth prayse?
Or tasteth any thing of Christ? is it bicause they striue,
In princely pleasure to excell, the greatest Prince aliue?
Or that they kepe their stables stoarde, with Moyles and coursers fine,
Or that they stately houses builde, with waste of golden mine?
The Turkes that know not Christ a whitte, in this can doe aswell,
And well woulde laugh if they shoulde see, that such as beare the bell
Aboue the rest, by whome the Church of Christ is guided heare,
Shoulde thus bestow their trauayle whole, about such foolish geare.
That beare a sway aboue the rest, and chiefe and greatest are.
Such as this head createth and doth ioyne with him to guide,
But full and whole authoritie, is vnto them denyde.
The greatest, and the chiefest are, those men that take their name,
Of Charnels that are fixed fast, and beare the doore in frame.
Bycause that on these holy hookes, these kingdomes gates doe stande,
And that the care and cure thereof, they wholy take in hande.
Out of this holy company the Pope himselfe doth spring,
And to no other doth belong, the choyse of such a King.
The most of them are learned men, and borne of houses good,
But fauour oftentimes of friendes, and highnesse of their blood,
Doth bring th'unlearned herevnto, and such as are not wise.
These men if from their woonted state, of life they did not rise,
Unto such honour great, perhaps they woulde be godly bent,
And labour in the workes of Christ, with good and true intent.
But as they be neuer can, for honour spilles them quite,
And makes them labour for to keepe, this welthie raigne vpright.
And by their oth they promise all, and fayth assured giue,
This kingdome here withall their might, to maintaine whilst they liue:
And first that no pretence against the Pope permitted bee,
Nor that he haue dishonour here, nor losse of libertie.
And secondly, that nothing of his kingdome here decay,
Nor of his Lawes and ceremonies (though lewde) be pulde away.
Thus safe through their defence and ayde, the Pope now feareth not,
But safely keepes that he hath long, with frawde and lying got:
These therefore as his councellors, and faythfull doth he take,
Who rather will be peecemeale torne, than once their prince forsake.
And these in message doth he sende, to Kinges and Princes greate,
Whereby he may their councelles learne, and better worke his feate.
Then dredfull warres he doth perswade, or else some peace to take,
Which he perceyues that best shall for his owne aduauntage make.
Or else some foolish matter doth, he wrongfully defende,
Or moueth them that heritikes, be brought to cruell ende,
[7]
Deuiseth some attonements new, or breakes the friendship strong.
The people runne to meete them straite, the councell doe resorte,
Sometime the Prince himselfe doth go, but all the oyled sorte
With shauen pates doe forwarde marche, with loftie crosse in site,
The guydes and rulers of the schooles, all clad in surples white
And downe they ducke with solemne cheere, and many a crooked knee,
Beseeching God to sende them life, and long in health to bee.
Thus with this iolly welcome here, these fathers forth are led.
Who crosse and blesse with fingers oft, as men astonished
To see the peoples fondenesse such, they well themselues doe know,
They bring no good nor vertuous thing, yet prowd their port they show
And vse the peoples foolishnesse, thus forth in pompe they ride,
In costly Crimsons all arayde, and Purple hattes beside.
A number great of men they bring, with Moyles and horses fayre,
In princely order furnished, and diuers of them spare.
And euen at Rome this pompe is seene, and gorgeousnesse of life,
Where fleshly lust and belly cheere, remayneth alwayes rife:
The better to maintaine this state, and charges of the same,
And that they may be Cardnallike, and to their hed no shame,
They chosen are of prelates such, as welthiest were before,
Yet will not all this welth now serue, that earst suffisde and more.
Their charges now are growne so great, their sumptuousnesse is such,
Since first they attainde with greedie minde, ye Cardnals hatte to touch.
Of sundrie fetches haue they neede,and lyke their Captaine fine,
They must some kinde of wayes deuise, to frame a siluer mine.
And this they doe some months when as, the Pope doth beare the sway
They sease vpon some Prebens fatte, as on a pleasaunt pray.
And Monkish Abbeys rich they ketch, and take into their handes,
They polle the Monkes and oftentimes, reserue the cheefest landes.
The hooke hangs out on euery side, to bring in greater gaine,
Least they should lacke at any time, to furnishe out their traine.
Thou thinkst perhaps they do some good, or stand some Realme in stedde
Wherefore it is not much amisse, that thus they oft be spedde.
Thou art deceyude no good there comes, from them to any wight,
Except perhaps some one their friende, be brought in better plight.
8
And Droanes that greedily consume, the fruites of others paine.
They serue their chiefe, and for his state, they ieoparde oft a ioynt,
But as for any other man, they weye him not a poynt.
If kingdomes great to ruine come, and people perish quite,
Or blood be spilt in euery place, they force it not a mite.
They laugh and with a rowting noyse, their greefe they plaine discrye,
But if themselues a Fle but bite, with gaping iawes they crye.
And God and man to witnesse call, what torment and what paine,
They suffer for the Church of God, and for the heauenly raine.
Whereas in deede they nothing feele, for hir they neuer knewe,
But for the Popes decrees and right, and honour to him due.
They ready are to suffer harme, wherefore they wander wide,
That thinke they weare their hattes of red, and purple garments side,
Bicause that with the losse of bloud, the folde of Christ they keepe.
It is a lye, they meddle not, with Christ nor with his sheepe.
They striue for ease, and for their fathers false vsurped hedde,
And sometime for to come by welth, their tender bloud is shedde.
Of such he makes in euery realme if any there excell,
And fauour things that longs to Rome, and are contented well,
To striue for them with learned bookes, with voyce with tongue & hand
They thinke themselues in paradice, and happiest for to stand.
While he regardes them not a whit, nor all their honour vaine,
But looketh onely to himselfe, and to his lustie raigne.
And riches here by helpe whereof, and wretched life beside,
He framed Rome the glasse of fayth, the sampler and the guide.
A guide in deede if that thou mindste, to trauell vnto hell,
And to be shutte out from the place where God himselfe doth dwell.
Their office thus, thou hast their lyfe, and all their fonde arayes,
But seest thou ought Apostolike, or that deserueth prayse?
Or tasteth any thing of Christ? is it bicause they striue,
In princely pleasure to excell, the greatest Prince aliue?
Or that they kepe their stables stoarde, with Moyles and coursers fine,
Or that they stately houses builde, with waste of golden mine?
The Turkes that know not Christ a whitte, in this can doe aswell,
And well woulde laugh if they shoulde see, that such as beare the bell
[8]
Shoulde thus bestow their trauayle whole, about such foolish geare.
Now must we tell the Byshoppes state, and their disguysings see
Such Bishops namely as hath beene, with vs in Germanie.
These ought of dutie to defende, the flocke of Christ, and feede,
To giue example with their liues, and to be learnde in deede,
In vertue and in godlinesse, all other to excell,
To see the poore and fatherlesse, and Widowes ordred well,
Lyke as the steppes of olde declare, and late decrees haue tought,
But all things otherwise thou seest, and topsie turuie brought.
Of Princes here the name they take, and dreadfull titles hye:
They looke aloft, and vnto worldly things themselues applye.
Regarding not the worde of Paule, who byddes them this beware.
Great townes they haue, and castles placed on Rockes that stately are,
And Lordships riche in hande they holde, reuenewes great beside,
Which with the sworde they safely keepe, & with the sworde they guide.
Himselfe vpon some loftie hill, in Castle strong doth lye:
Farre of from preaching of the worde of God, or peoples eye.
Whereas he lists he leades his lyfe, and lyke a Prince doth raigne,
Appoynting for his deputies, vnlearned men and vaine,
And graunting powre to bussardes blinde, who spredde in euery place
The counsels and decrees of Popes, and with ill fauoured grace,
They bawle against all such as put their trust in Christ alone,
And thinke themselues redeemed by his death, and others none.
While as this Prince and Bishop here, all drownde in vaine delight,
And ouerwhelmde in wordly cares, cannot regarde aright
Th'affaires of Christ, nor if he woulde, he dares not busie bee,
Lest that he shoulde be periurde calde, and staynde with heresie:
And from his stately seate be cast, with great reproch and shame,
By force of dreadfull oth constrainde, in all things here to frame
Himselfe according to the Pope, and to defende his hedde,
His stately seate, his lawes, his fayth, and orders publishedde.
And not a hearebred for to passe, the steppes of custome olde,
By which the holyest father hie, doth maintaine here and holde,
His supersticious vanities, his mockries and deceat,
His foolysh fayth and beastly lyfe, of shauen slouens great.
And all his other gewgawes here, and trumpries on a heape,
Of which within my other bookes, hereafter will I speake,
He knowes that lyes doth him sustaine, and all his family,
And nothing gainefuller vnto the oyled company:
Then people kept in blindenesse still, not knowing good nor right,
But ready alwayes to beleeue, whatsoeuer they resight.
No Bishop therefore sworne, vnto the Pope dare once apply,
Himselfe to preache the worde of Christ, and doctrine perfitely:
Nor for to shew the people plaine, the true vndoubted waye,
Nor alter supersticions, nor take some parte awaye.
Although he know that many things, are horrible and naught:
Ne will he suffer such as woulde the people well haue taught.
As late a reuerende Bishop olde, began with vertuous minde,
To breake the darckned mistes of men, and path of Christ to finde:
And saw what mischiefe vnder face of holynesse was wrought,
Wherefore disordred things to bring, to better state he thought,
And diuers matters to amende, that cleane contrarie were
To God, as worships, orders, and the guise of teaching here.
This matter was no sooner knowne, but strayte the Monkish route,
Their lying dartes began to throwe and all the clargie stoute,
Put pen to booke, the schoolemen eke, a pace did sharpe their stings,
The Lawyers also sought to knowe, the state of diuers things.
At length the matter came to Rome, before the Popish seat,
Who seeing the harme might come thereby, and what destruction great
Unto his kingdome, calleth strayte a councell to him neere,
And cites the feeble aged man, from countrie farre to appeere.
Whose cruell drift perceyuing hee, and knowing well beside,
Their lewde demeanours and deceytes, that earst he oft had tride.
And how they neuer coulde be brought, to good or sober minde,
His Bishopricke he giueth vp, and honours all resinde.
This thing woulde no man here haue done, that had regarded more,
This worldly pompe and pleasures vaine, then Christ and christian lore.
For eche man feares the Popish force, and iudgement aye seuere,
And most of all applies himselfe, with care and trauaile here,
In worde and deede to shew themselues, good seruaunts for to be,
Unto the Pope, and furtherers of his supremacie.
And he that giues his minde to this, how should he any wayes,
Assone deserue the truth or seeke, of Christ the onely prayse.
When as he thinkes himselfe not bounde, to God nor to his sonne,
For vnto them he hath not sworne, as he before hath donne
Unto the Pope, nor thinkes to haue by them commoditie,
What good vnto the people then, or where in profits he?
That for to please doth teache vntruth, and still defendeth it,
And townes and Cities onely guides, and preacheth not a whit.
Nor suffers others truth to teache, nor any thing at all,
That to a Bishop doth belong, but in his princely hall
Doth leade a slouthfull easie lyfe? we know not perfectly,
But wonderfull it seemeth sure, that holynesse should lye
Within such ydle drowsie showes, for thus for to excell,
In pleasures, Cities fayre to builde, defende and furnish well,
Great horse to keepe, and many men, in liuerie riche arayde,
To hunt and hawke, and looke aloft, and make poore men afrayde.
The Turke and euery worldly Prince, as well as they doe this.
Dost thou suppose that this will serue, or else sufficient is,
That on some Holy dayes they serue the Lord in solemne guise,
Therein doth passing pompe appeare, and hurlyburly rise,
And for the people goodly game, th'unskilfull youth resortes,
And fast with mazed mindes they runne, to see such goodly sportes.
The Bishop in the meane time is, apparelde gorgiously,
And foureteene sundrie garments doth, he herein occupy,
Without the which he cannot doe, his sacrifice at all,
Yea some must fifteene on them haue, beside their costly Pall.
His Sandals first he putteth on, of silke or veluet new,
And then his Amias and his Albe, that hangeth to his shew,
Which doth in whitenesse passe the Swan, that in the riuer fleetes,
A slender Gyrdle rounde about his loynes, embracing meetes.
And eke about his necke a stoale, doth rounde in compasse sit,
The greatest pact is wrought of silke, of length and largenesse fit,
Which when vpon his blessed brest, a crosse is ouerlayde,
It passeth downe and vnderneath his girdle fast is stayde.
Then puttes he on his Tunicle, of purple colour bright,
And ouer that his Dalmatik, a short sleeude garment light.
And then vpon his tender handes his Gloues he draweth on,
And many a costly stone in Ringes he weareth therevpon.
Then ouer all he puttes his Cope, a garment straunge in sight,
Which lyke vnto the lothsome Tode behinde is shaped right.
With crosse depainted braue vpon, his backe and eke his brest,
And after this his napkins white, he ioyneth with the rest.
And rounde about his porkish necke, his Pall of passing price,
He casteth on, with hanging hoode, and knot of fine deuice.
His forked Myter then he takes, with golde and stones arayde,
From whence two labels hanging out, behinde are ouerlayde.
Now last of all his Crosiar staffe, in hande he holdes vpright,
Whose crooked vpper part is deckt, with golde and Iewels bright.
The rest with siluer garnisht is, and plaited fine and neat,
Least it should grieue his holy hands, with waight of mettall great.
What God I say, or Sybyll then, what Moyses euer tought,
For to be clad with such a pompe, and garments straungly wrought?
When long agone they left their bookes, and freely had assinde,
Ech blocke to preache, and Bussards such, as had none other minde:
But onely for to feede themselues, and that they weary were,
Of such things as belonge vnto, the Bishops dutie here.
And thinking shame for them to deale or meddle with the same,
Addict themselues to matters graue, and worldely workes prophane,
Amidst their pleasaunt quietnesse, these toyes they did deuise:
To mocke th'amazed foolish worlde, and bleare the peoples eyes.
That when they shoulde beholde them thus, with stones & golde beset,
And see them in their masking cotes, with gorgeous grace to iet:
They should account them wonderous men, sent down frō heauens hie,
Of whome they might eternall ioy and perdons dearely buie.
And least themselues should heare be thought to dote and wander wide,
They doe declare by euery signe, what thing is signifide,
As if they Moyses vestures were, and God had them assignde,
And not the trifles fonde of men, and fancies of the minde.
The Bishops part is learning sounde, into the Church to bring,
And not the foolish signifyings, and shadowes of the thing,
That doting heades haue earst deuisde, and foolish mindes of men:
No golde, nor pompe, nor straunge attire becomes this house or them.
They ought not of the Church to make a Stage or Theatere,
Nor for to pricke or prancke themselues, in such disguised geare.
But all the popish state almost consists in this degree,
Of trifles such as thou thy selfe anone shalt plainely see.
Thus armde at last with euerie peece the Bishop commeth in,
Aproching to the Altar hie, with countnaunce ferce and grim:
Whome scarse his weightie clothes permits, to drawe his breath at all,
Or for to passe with any pace, or any moouing small.
Such Bishops namely as hath beene, with vs in Germanie.
These ought of dutie to defende, the flocke of Christ, and feede,
To giue example with their liues, and to be learnde in deede,
In vertue and in godlinesse, all other to excell,
To see the poore and fatherlesse, and Widowes ordred well,
Lyke as the steppes of olde declare, and late decrees haue tought,
But all things otherwise thou seest, and topsie turuie brought.
Of Princes here the name they take, and dreadfull titles hye:
They looke aloft, and vnto worldly things themselues applye.
Regarding not the worde of Paule, who byddes them this beware.
Great townes they haue, and castles placed on Rockes that stately are,
And Lordships riche in hande they holde, reuenewes great beside,
Which with the sworde they safely keepe, & with the sworde they guide.
Himselfe vpon some loftie hill, in Castle strong doth lye:
Farre of from preaching of the worde of God, or peoples eye.
Whereas he lists he leades his lyfe, and lyke a Prince doth raigne,
Appoynting for his deputies, vnlearned men and vaine,
And graunting powre to bussardes blinde, who spredde in euery place
The counsels and decrees of Popes, and with ill fauoured grace,
They bawle against all such as put their trust in Christ alone,
And thinke themselues redeemed by his death, and others none.
While as this Prince and Bishop here, all drownde in vaine delight,
And ouerwhelmde in wordly cares, cannot regarde aright
Th'affaires of Christ, nor if he woulde, he dares not busie bee,
Lest that he shoulde be periurde calde, and staynde with heresie:
And from his stately seate be cast, with great reproch and shame,
By force of dreadfull oth constrainde, in all things here to frame
Himselfe according to the Pope, and to defende his hedde,
His stately seate, his lawes, his fayth, and orders publishedde.
And not a hearebred for to passe, the steppes of custome olde,
By which the holyest father hie, doth maintaine here and holde,
His supersticious vanities, his mockries and deceat,
His foolysh fayth and beastly lyfe, of shauen slouens great.
9
Of which within my other bookes, hereafter will I speake,
He knowes that lyes doth him sustaine, and all his family,
And nothing gainefuller vnto the oyled company:
Then people kept in blindenesse still, not knowing good nor right,
But ready alwayes to beleeue, whatsoeuer they resight.
No Bishop therefore sworne, vnto the Pope dare once apply,
Himselfe to preache the worde of Christ, and doctrine perfitely:
Nor for to shew the people plaine, the true vndoubted waye,
Nor alter supersticions, nor take some parte awaye.
Although he know that many things, are horrible and naught:
Ne will he suffer such as woulde the people well haue taught.
As late a reuerende Bishop olde, began with vertuous minde,
To breake the darckned mistes of men, and path of Christ to finde:
And saw what mischiefe vnder face of holynesse was wrought,
Wherefore disordred things to bring, to better state he thought,
And diuers matters to amende, that cleane contrarie were
To God, as worships, orders, and the guise of teaching here.
This matter was no sooner knowne, but strayte the Monkish route,
Their lying dartes began to throwe and all the clargie stoute,
Put pen to booke, the schoolemen eke, a pace did sharpe their stings,
The Lawyers also sought to knowe, the state of diuers things.
At length the matter came to Rome, before the Popish seat,
Who seeing the harme might come thereby, and what destruction great
Unto his kingdome, calleth strayte a councell to him neere,
And cites the feeble aged man, from countrie farre to appeere.
Whose cruell drift perceyuing hee, and knowing well beside,
Their lewde demeanours and deceytes, that earst he oft had tride.
And how they neuer coulde be brought, to good or sober minde,
His Bishopricke he giueth vp, and honours all resinde.
This thing woulde no man here haue done, that had regarded more,
This worldly pompe and pleasures vaine, then Christ and christian lore.
For eche man feares the Popish force, and iudgement aye seuere,
And most of all applies himselfe, with care and trauaile here,
In worde and deede to shew themselues, good seruaunts for to be,
Unto the Pope, and furtherers of his supremacie.
[9]
Assone deserue the truth or seeke, of Christ the onely prayse.
When as he thinkes himselfe not bounde, to God nor to his sonne,
For vnto them he hath not sworne, as he before hath donne
Unto the Pope, nor thinkes to haue by them commoditie,
What good vnto the people then, or where in profits he?
That for to please doth teache vntruth, and still defendeth it,
And townes and Cities onely guides, and preacheth not a whit.
Nor suffers others truth to teache, nor any thing at all,
That to a Bishop doth belong, but in his princely hall
Doth leade a slouthfull easie lyfe? we know not perfectly,
But wonderfull it seemeth sure, that holynesse should lye
Within such ydle drowsie showes, for thus for to excell,
In pleasures, Cities fayre to builde, defende and furnish well,
Great horse to keepe, and many men, in liuerie riche arayde,
To hunt and hawke, and looke aloft, and make poore men afrayde.
The Turke and euery worldly Prince, as well as they doe this.
Dost thou suppose that this will serue, or else sufficient is,
That on some Holy dayes they serue the Lord in solemne guise,
Therein doth passing pompe appeare, and hurlyburly rise,
And for the people goodly game, th'unskilfull youth resortes,
And fast with mazed mindes they runne, to see such goodly sportes.
The Bishop in the meane time is, apparelde gorgiously,
And foureteene sundrie garments doth, he herein occupy,
Without the which he cannot doe, his sacrifice at all,
Yea some must fifteene on them haue, beside their costly Pall.
His Sandals first he putteth on, of silke or veluet new,
And then his Amias and his Albe, that hangeth to his shew,
Which doth in whitenesse passe the Swan, that in the riuer fleetes,
A slender Gyrdle rounde about his loynes, embracing meetes.
And eke about his necke a stoale, doth rounde in compasse sit,
The greatest pact is wrought of silke, of length and largenesse fit,
Which when vpon his blessed brest, a crosse is ouerlayde,
It passeth downe and vnderneath his girdle fast is stayde.
Then puttes he on his Tunicle, of purple colour bright,
And ouer that his Dalmatik, a short sleeude garment light.
10
And many a costly stone in Ringes he weareth therevpon.
Then ouer all he puttes his Cope, a garment straunge in sight,
Which lyke vnto the lothsome Tode behinde is shaped right.
With crosse depainted braue vpon, his backe and eke his brest,
And after this his napkins white, he ioyneth with the rest.
And rounde about his porkish necke, his Pall of passing price,
He casteth on, with hanging hoode, and knot of fine deuice.
His forked Myter then he takes, with golde and stones arayde,
From whence two labels hanging out, behinde are ouerlayde.
Now last of all his Crosiar staffe, in hande he holdes vpright,
Whose crooked vpper part is deckt, with golde and Iewels bright.
The rest with siluer garnisht is, and plaited fine and neat,
Least it should grieue his holy hands, with waight of mettall great.
What God I say, or Sybyll then, what Moyses euer tought,
For to be clad with such a pompe, and garments straungly wrought?
When long agone they left their bookes, and freely had assinde,
Ech blocke to preache, and Bussards such, as had none other minde:
But onely for to feede themselues, and that they weary were,
Of such things as belonge vnto, the Bishops dutie here.
And thinking shame for them to deale or meddle with the same,
Addict themselues to matters graue, and worldely workes prophane,
Amidst their pleasaunt quietnesse, these toyes they did deuise:
To mocke th'amazed foolish worlde, and bleare the peoples eyes.
That when they shoulde beholde them thus, with stones & golde beset,
And see them in their masking cotes, with gorgeous grace to iet:
They should account them wonderous men, sent down frō heauens hie,
Of whome they might eternall ioy and perdons dearely buie.
And least themselues should heare be thought to dote and wander wide,
They doe declare by euery signe, what thing is signifide,
As if they Moyses vestures were, and God had them assignde,
And not the trifles fonde of men, and fancies of the minde.
The Bishops part is learning sounde, into the Church to bring,
And not the foolish signifyings, and shadowes of the thing,
That doting heades haue earst deuisde, and foolish mindes of men:
No golde, nor pompe, nor straunge attire becomes this house or them.
[10]
Nor for to pricke or prancke themselues, in such disguised geare.
But all the popish state almost consists in this degree,
Of trifles such as thou thy selfe anone shalt plainely see.
Thus armde at last with euerie peece the Bishop commeth in,
Aproching to the Altar hie, with countnaunce ferce and grim:
Whome scarse his weightie clothes permits, to drawe his breath at all,
Or for to passe with any pace, or any moouing small.
But who is able then to shew the iesture straunge, and grace,
And shuffling vp and downe of Clarkes, herein from place to place?
With what a great solempnitie,he liftes his looke on hie?
His Myter now he putteth of, and on immediatly,
And at his hande there standeth one with still attentiue eyes,
To put it on and of againe, according to the guise.
Sometime he standes, sometime he sittes, and sweetely oft doth kisse,
His Altar, Chalice, Booke, and Glasse, enclosed here for this.
Some whiles vpon the left side of the Altar doth he stande,
And straight from thence he fiskes againe vnto the other hande.
From thence vnto the midst he goes, and once againe away
To the left side, then to the midst, where endes at last the play.
Sometime he musing standeth still, as fastned to the grounde,
And mumbling with a secret voyce, himselfe he turneth rounde.
Now both his handes, a sunder farre vpon the Alter lye,
And strayte wayes both togither ioynde, he liftes them vp on hye,
And shortly spredeth them againe, and both he thrusteth forth,
The one directly to the South, the other to the North.
Now downe vpon the grounde he stares, and then he patters oft,
And sodenly he starteth vp, and castes his eyes aloft.
A thousande Crosses then he makes, and blesseth euery place,
For feare least that some sawcie spirite his doings might disgrace.
None otherwise his Ministers that rounde about him stande,
Doe handle all their holy rightes, and alwayes are at hande,
Who Cushions soft of Silke, whereon to lay his bookes, doe bring,
And Frankenscence in euery place, with Censers sweete they fling,
And Candeles, Crosses, Banners, all they beare, and wayte vpon,
And shoulders, bookes, and handes they kysse, and eke the Altar stone.
One vp a lofte the patten holdes, enclosde in silken vayle,
Who euer standes, behinde his backe, to see what thing doth fayle.
An other to the people turnde, in tune full straunge doth crye,
Such wordes as scarcely any there, knowes what he meanes thereby.
Which chiefest is aboue the reast, the Bishop all alone,
Doth eate and drinke, and giues no parte, thereof to any one,
Nor any seekes thereof to haue, so much these fellowes waye,
Their high and holye mysteryes, that beare so great aswaye.
Of all these things what profite can there to the people rise?
They are but trumprye and deceytes, to daze the foolish eies.
Yet is the same the greatest thing, and holyest aye by much,
Nor any better seruice hath the papacie then such.
What seekst thou than? may these things faith, or godlinesse be thought
Hath euer them our mayster chiefe commaunded, wilde, or tought?
The scriptures reade, and looke what Christ, hath vs appoynted there,
Go search thappostles orders well, from first and farthest yere,
Which in their actes and writings they vnto the worlde did leaue,
Thou shalt no such thing euer see, nor any like perceaue.
Both Baptisme and the Supper of the Lorde they euermore,
Did purely in one sorte obserue, according to their lore:
Ne playde the fooles with gesture straunge, and foolish trifles vaine,
Nor counterfeited Princes thus, with garde and stately traine.
Yea some of them there are that when they to the aultar go,
A sworde before them caried is, and set before them so:
That men may knowe that powre they haue, as well as Princes great
To vse the sworde, and vpon lyfe to sitte in iudgement seate,
What maketh fury here? what doth the bloudy sworde vpon,
The aulter mylde, a place of peace? the holye roome whereon,
The blessed sacraments of peace, ought alwayes to be donne,
There standes a lofte the fearefull signes, of deadly warres begonne.
And where the sweete forgiuenesse of, our sinnes we ought to haue,
There standes the Bishop to reuenge, and threaten slaughters braue,
A worthy thing to ioyne that doth, pertaine to God and man,
How can they so? he shoulde be sure, a worthy Bishop than.
If that he woulde behaue himselfe, as olde decrees him teach,
And leauing sworde, and feates of warre, would giue himselfe to preach
I maruell they suppose that things, that thus contrarie bee,
Shoulde ioyne in one, and that the Myter should with sworde agree.
As if of Moyses and of Christ, one person they should frame,
Whereof the one drawes out the sworde, and fiercely shakes the same.
The other puttes it vp, and doth forbid all his to kill.
The one appoynteth lawes seuere, and penalties at will,
The other settes his free from all, content but one to make,
Releaseth all offences here, and sinnes away doth take.
The one a Minister of death, a Prince reuenging rife,
The other authour still of peace, and gyuer here of life.
But Anius long agone was both, a Priest and eke a King,
In deede we are come to such a passe, as now in euery thing,
The orders of the Heathen vaine, and rytes we doe receaue,
And folow all the foolishnesse, that they to vs did leaue.
Nay fonder thinges by much we fayne, then euer they coulde finde,
At Christ they onely seeme to laugh, and count his wordes but winde.
But whether passe I now my boundes? it was not mine intent,
For to refell ech foolish thing, that shamelesse Priestes inuent,
But to resite them here for such, as knew them not before,
Whereby they might delighted be, and laugh at them the more.
And shuffling vp and downe of Clarkes, herein from place to place?
With what a great solempnitie,he liftes his looke on hie?
His Myter now he putteth of, and on immediatly,
And at his hande there standeth one with still attentiue eyes,
To put it on and of againe, according to the guise.
Sometime he standes, sometime he sittes, and sweetely oft doth kisse,
His Altar, Chalice, Booke, and Glasse, enclosed here for this.
Some whiles vpon the left side of the Altar doth he stande,
And straight from thence he fiskes againe vnto the other hande.
From thence vnto the midst he goes, and once againe away
To the left side, then to the midst, where endes at last the play.
Sometime he musing standeth still, as fastned to the grounde,
And mumbling with a secret voyce, himselfe he turneth rounde.
Now both his handes, a sunder farre vpon the Alter lye,
And strayte wayes both togither ioynde, he liftes them vp on hye,
And shortly spredeth them againe, and both he thrusteth forth,
The one directly to the South, the other to the North.
Now downe vpon the grounde he stares, and then he patters oft,
And sodenly he starteth vp, and castes his eyes aloft.
A thousande Crosses then he makes, and blesseth euery place,
For feare least that some sawcie spirite his doings might disgrace.
None otherwise his Ministers that rounde about him stande,
Doe handle all their holy rightes, and alwayes are at hande,
Who Cushions soft of Silke, whereon to lay his bookes, doe bring,
And Frankenscence in euery place, with Censers sweete they fling,
And Candeles, Crosses, Banners, all they beare, and wayte vpon,
And shoulders, bookes, and handes they kysse, and eke the Altar stone.
11
Who euer standes, behinde his backe, to see what thing doth fayle.
An other to the people turnde, in tune full straunge doth crye,
Such wordes as scarcely any there, knowes what he meanes thereby.
Which chiefest is aboue the reast, the Bishop all alone,
Doth eate and drinke, and giues no parte, thereof to any one,
Nor any seekes thereof to haue, so much these fellowes waye,
Their high and holye mysteryes, that beare so great aswaye.
Of all these things what profite can there to the people rise?
They are but trumprye and deceytes, to daze the foolish eies.
Yet is the same the greatest thing, and holyest aye by much,
Nor any better seruice hath the papacie then such.
What seekst thou than? may these things faith, or godlinesse be thought
Hath euer them our mayster chiefe commaunded, wilde, or tought?
The scriptures reade, and looke what Christ, hath vs appoynted there,
Go search thappostles orders well, from first and farthest yere,
Which in their actes and writings they vnto the worlde did leaue,
Thou shalt no such thing euer see, nor any like perceaue.
Both Baptisme and the Supper of the Lorde they euermore,
Did purely in one sorte obserue, according to their lore:
Ne playde the fooles with gesture straunge, and foolish trifles vaine,
Nor counterfeited Princes thus, with garde and stately traine.
Yea some of them there are that when they to the aultar go,
A sworde before them caried is, and set before them so:
That men may knowe that powre they haue, as well as Princes great
To vse the sworde, and vpon lyfe to sitte in iudgement seate,
What maketh fury here? what doth the bloudy sworde vpon,
The aulter mylde, a place of peace? the holye roome whereon,
The blessed sacraments of peace, ought alwayes to be donne,
There standes a lofte the fearefull signes, of deadly warres begonne.
And where the sweete forgiuenesse of, our sinnes we ought to haue,
There standes the Bishop to reuenge, and threaten slaughters braue,
A worthy thing to ioyne that doth, pertaine to God and man,
How can they so? he shoulde be sure, a worthy Bishop than.
If that he woulde behaue himselfe, as olde decrees him teach,
And leauing sworde, and feates of warre, would giue himselfe to preach
[11]
Shoulde ioyne in one, and that the Myter should with sworde agree.
As if of Moyses and of Christ, one person they should frame,
Whereof the one drawes out the sworde, and fiercely shakes the same.
The other puttes it vp, and doth forbid all his to kill.
The one appoynteth lawes seuere, and penalties at will,
The other settes his free from all, content but one to make,
Releaseth all offences here, and sinnes away doth take.
The one a Minister of death, a Prince reuenging rife,
The other authour still of peace, and gyuer here of life.
But Anius long agone was both, a Priest and eke a King,
In deede we are come to such a passe, as now in euery thing,
The orders of the Heathen vaine, and rytes we doe receaue,
And folow all the foolishnesse, that they to vs did leaue.
Nay fonder thinges by much we fayne, then euer they coulde finde,
At Christ they onely seeme to laugh, and count his wordes but winde.
But whether passe I now my boundes? it was not mine intent,
For to refell ech foolish thing, that shamelesse Priestes inuent,
But to resite them here for such, as knew them not before,
Whereby they might delighted be, and laugh at them the more.
Some sorte there are that better lyke, in Princes courtes to looke,
Then poorely for to preache of Christ, and pore vpon a booke.
They commonly of counsaile are, the weightiest things that bee,
Are done by them: they Councellours are, and sit in hie degree.
By whome the kingdomes most are rulde, in euery Parlament,
They giue their voyce, and nothing passeth voyde of their consent.
They looke to vittayling of Campes, when bloudie warres doe raigne,
Or take some matter such in hande, as doth to Dukes pertaine.
A wondrous thing it is that Kinges, these men so much doth neede,
As if there were not of the laytie, skilfull men in deede:
Whome good experience well hath taught, and who by learning can,
Sufficiently deserue the things, that long to God or man.
Doe they desire their doings should, at Rome reported be,
And nothing of their councell kept, at home in priuitie.
But that vnto the holy father, strayte it should be borne,
To whom they sweare, who doth discharge such as before haue sworne?
What hath the common welth beside, to be asurde of them,
That they shall trustie be, and with their counsayle helpe the realme?
They neyther wyfe nor children haue, for whome they should prepare,
And for their owne posteritie, they haue no cause to care.
Nor howses of their owne they haue, nor any kinde of landes,
But haue the fruites of other men, and toyle of straungers handes.
Being free from care of any losse, yea though the skies shoulde fall,
Or realmes, or people perish quite, they take no hurt at all.
They strayte can out of goneshot be, and farre from daunger lye,
And safe from secret dennes they can, such hurlyburlyes flye.
O blessed happie courte whereas, no Bishop euer is,
It is no place for any such, they are not calde to this.
And therefore nothing prospers well, that they doe vndertake,
Their haplesse handes in euery thing, vnhappie worke doe make.
Then poorely for to preache of Christ, and pore vpon a booke.
They commonly of counsaile are, the weightiest things that bee,
Are done by them: they Councellours are, and sit in hie degree.
By whome the kingdomes most are rulde, in euery Parlament,
They giue their voyce, and nothing passeth voyde of their consent.
They looke to vittayling of Campes, when bloudie warres doe raigne,
Or take some matter such in hande, as doth to Dukes pertaine.
A wondrous thing it is that Kinges, these men so much doth neede,
As if there were not of the laytie, skilfull men in deede:
Whome good experience well hath taught, and who by learning can,
Sufficiently deserue the things, that long to God or man.
Doe they desire their doings should, at Rome reported be,
And nothing of their councell kept, at home in priuitie.
But that vnto the holy father, strayte it should be borne,
To whom they sweare, who doth discharge such as before haue sworne?
12
That they shall trustie be, and with their counsayle helpe the realme?
They neyther wyfe nor children haue, for whome they should prepare,
And for their owne posteritie, they haue no cause to care.
Nor howses of their owne they haue, nor any kinde of landes,
But haue the fruites of other men, and toyle of straungers handes.
Being free from care of any losse, yea though the skies shoulde fall,
Or realmes, or people perish quite, they take no hurt at all.
They strayte can out of goneshot be, and farre from daunger lye,
And safe from secret dennes they can, such hurlyburlyes flye.
O blessed happie courte whereas, no Bishop euer is,
It is no place for any such, they are not calde to this.
And therefore nothing prospers well, that they doe vndertake,
Their haplesse handes in euery thing, vnhappie worke doe make.
To euery Bishop chiefe there doth, belong a Suffragan,
Which name I thinke Apollo scarse, can tell from whence it came,
But sure I am his maysters turne, he serues continually,
He bishops children, halowes aultars, and Church and Chappels by.
He blesseth all the Popish sorte, and alwayes doth prouide,
In euery parish oyled Priestes, the people for to guide.
The threefoulde oyle and water in, the Font he haloweth,
And stones and fire and many such, and belles he christeneth.
These Pageants euermore he makes, rewarded for his paine,
Though not so much he get thereby, as Roscius woont to gaine.
This man doth buy some title for, a hundred Crownes or two,
Of some olde ruinous Churche defaste in Turkye long ago,
Whereto he dare not once come neere, much lesse to preache or teache,
And shew himselfe a Bishop there, within his enimies reache.
Yet falsely doth he sweare that he, woulde shortly visit it,
And doe his duetie, if it be peace, and Turkes will him permit.
But herein doth no daunger lye, he ment not such a thing,
To preache abrode, and wandring sheepe of Christ in folde to bring.
But idlenesse and slouthfull life, this onely seeketh hee,
And therefore from his oth he is dischargde at libertie.
And whyther he list he may go walke, with title fonde and vaine,
And labour for an other man, rewarded for his paine
Are not these same right goodly things, and follyes great the while,
And foolish fancyes and deceytes, that all the worlde beguile?
Yet this good man is also sworne at first full solemlie,
For to defende the Popes decrees, and all his orders hie.
If now at any time he preache, which if he should not oft,
He scarcely coulde maintaine himselfe, nor come to looke aloft,
He shewes how that he neyther seekes the glorie of Christ alone,
Or peoples helth but onely how, ta'duaunce the Popish throne.
Therfore its alwayes good such sworne companions to eschue,
For surely vnto both their maysters, can they not be true,
Especially if they discent, and sundrie things doe preache,
As knowne it is the Pope and Christ, contrarie cleane doe teache.
What if I here shoulde call to minde, the foolish partes he playes,
When as he haloweth Churches or some solemne seruice sayes?
A matter long it is to tell, some parte therefore I will
Declare: Democritus draw neere, here mayest thou laugh thy fill.
All others voyded from the Church, that thus shall halowed be,
The Sexten onely there remaynes, enclosed secretlie.
The doores are shut and Tapers twelue, before the Crosses light,
Doe stande, and twelue within the Church, are euer burning bright,
Himselfe without the Bishop standes, with pompe, and prowde aray,
And haloweth water first with salte, which pretie kinde of play,
If from the Iewes or Gentiles first, it came I cannot tell,
But Moyses alwayes vsde the water as it came from Well.
Then thrise about the Church he walkes, and thrise doth water cast,
Upon the walles, and thrise vpon the doore he knockes at last,
With crooked staffe, and of the Psalme with dredfull voyce doth crye,
Lift vp your gates, supposing that, six hundred Deuils doe lye
Within the Church. The Sexten strayte, for them doth answere make,
With roaring voyce: what king is this, that thus doth on him take?
And then as though the Deuils all, shoulde therewith giue him place,
The Clarke vnbarring strayte the gate, he enters in a pace,
Accompanied with fewe that haply worthy are to see,
Such mysteries: the rest shut out, that so vnworthy bee.
Then on the saintes he calles, and on the grounde doth staring stande,
And makes a crosse with Ashes strawde, or if it lacke with sande.
Then Latine letters paintes he fayre, and Greeke ilfauourdlye,
And Hebrue woorst of all by much, a tongue for them to hye.
Forthwith he coniures water new, the first no more of might,
With salte and wine and ashes small, and euery solemne right.
To halowe there the Aultar hie, at last he setteth out,
Twelue crosses therevpon, annoynting it with oyle about.
In this sort euery aultar great, is halowed euermore,
But holy water is alwayes one, among the things before.
Then on ech corner of the altar, crosses doth he sette,
With water drawne, and seauen times about it doth he iette.
And seauen times vpon the table, sprinckleth water clere,
Then euery corner of the sepulchre, is signde with crosses here,
(A foure square hole this sepulchre, amid the table is,
Made out by Arte) and all with Chrisme annoynted, after this
His reliques there he doth enclose, and certaine franckenscence,
And of the table places fiue, with solemne reuerence:
Hee doth annoynt not onely with oyle, but with his creame deuine,
And last as children are confirmde, so doth he likewise sine,
With crosse & create the aultars braue: are not these wondrous sightes
Are they not wondrous mysteries? these fonde and foolish rightes,
The idlenesse of learned men, that liued long ago,
Brought forth, and eke their monstrous pride, wherewith prouoked tho,
They much despisde the common sorte, and making them to gaze,
They founde out first these foolish toyes, the simple eyes to daze.
Which name I thinke Apollo scarse, can tell from whence it came,
But sure I am his maysters turne, he serues continually,
He bishops children, halowes aultars, and Church and Chappels by.
He blesseth all the Popish sorte, and alwayes doth prouide,
In euery parish oyled Priestes, the people for to guide.
The threefoulde oyle and water in, the Font he haloweth,
And stones and fire and many such, and belles he christeneth.
These Pageants euermore he makes, rewarded for his paine,
Though not so much he get thereby, as Roscius woont to gaine.
This man doth buy some title for, a hundred Crownes or two,
Of some olde ruinous Churche defaste in Turkye long ago,
Whereto he dare not once come neere, much lesse to preache or teache,
And shew himselfe a Bishop there, within his enimies reache.
Yet falsely doth he sweare that he, woulde shortly visit it,
And doe his duetie, if it be peace, and Turkes will him permit.
But herein doth no daunger lye, he ment not such a thing,
To preache abrode, and wandring sheepe of Christ in folde to bring.
But idlenesse and slouthfull life, this onely seeketh hee,
And therefore from his oth he is dischargde at libertie.
And whyther he list he may go walke, with title fonde and vaine,
And labour for an other man, rewarded for his paine
[12]
And foolish fancyes and deceytes, that all the worlde beguile?
Yet this good man is also sworne at first full solemlie,
For to defende the Popes decrees, and all his orders hie.
If now at any time he preache, which if he should not oft,
He scarcely coulde maintaine himselfe, nor come to looke aloft,
He shewes how that he neyther seekes the glorie of Christ alone,
Or peoples helth but onely how, ta'duaunce the Popish throne.
Therfore its alwayes good such sworne companions to eschue,
For surely vnto both their maysters, can they not be true,
Especially if they discent, and sundrie things doe preache,
As knowne it is the Pope and Christ, contrarie cleane doe teache.
What if I here shoulde call to minde, the foolish partes he playes,
When as he haloweth Churches or some solemne seruice sayes?
A matter long it is to tell, some parte therefore I will
Declare: Democritus draw neere, here mayest thou laugh thy fill.
All others voyded from the Church, that thus shall halowed be,
The Sexten onely there remaynes, enclosed secretlie.
The doores are shut and Tapers twelue, before the Crosses light,
Doe stande, and twelue within the Church, are euer burning bright,
Himselfe without the Bishop standes, with pompe, and prowde aray,
And haloweth water first with salte, which pretie kinde of play,
If from the Iewes or Gentiles first, it came I cannot tell,
But Moyses alwayes vsde the water as it came from Well.
Then thrise about the Church he walkes, and thrise doth water cast,
Upon the walles, and thrise vpon the doore he knockes at last,
With crooked staffe, and of the Psalme with dredfull voyce doth crye,
Lift vp your gates, supposing that, six hundred Deuils doe lye
Within the Church. The Sexten strayte, for them doth answere make,
With roaring voyce: what king is this, that thus doth on him take?
And then as though the Deuils all, shoulde therewith giue him place,
The Clarke vnbarring strayte the gate, he enters in a pace,
Accompanied with fewe that haply worthy are to see,
Such mysteries: the rest shut out, that so vnworthy bee.
Then on the saintes he calles, and on the grounde doth staring stande,
And makes a crosse with Ashes strawde, or if it lacke with sande.
13
And Hebrue woorst of all by much, a tongue for them to hye.
Forthwith he coniures water new, the first no more of might,
With salte and wine and ashes small, and euery solemne right.
To halowe there the Aultar hie, at last he setteth out,
Twelue crosses therevpon, annoynting it with oyle about.
In this sort euery aultar great, is halowed euermore,
But holy water is alwayes one, among the things before.
Then on ech corner of the altar, crosses doth he sette,
With water drawne, and seauen times about it doth he iette.
And seauen times vpon the table, sprinckleth water clere,
Then euery corner of the sepulchre, is signde with crosses here,
(A foure square hole this sepulchre, amid the table is,
Made out by Arte) and all with Chrisme annoynted, after this
His reliques there he doth enclose, and certaine franckenscence,
And of the table places fiue, with solemne reuerence:
Hee doth annoynt not onely with oyle, but with his creame deuine,
And last as children are confirmde, so doth he likewise sine,
With crosse & create the aultars braue: are not these wondrous sightes
Are they not wondrous mysteries? these fonde and foolish rightes,
The idlenesse of learned men, that liued long ago,
Brought forth, and eke their monstrous pride, wherewith prouoked tho,
They much despisde the common sorte, and making them to gaze,
They founde out first these foolish toyes, the simple eyes to daze.
Lyke cerimonies doth he vse, while as he doth repayre,
The shauen sort and fine yong impes, to plant in kingdome fayre,
As euery one by name is calde, togither stande they theare,
Clad all in Albes, for so they terme the vesture that they weare.
The Bishop doth demaunde if that they good and vertuous bee,
And whether they are learnde and meete, to take this great degree.
The Officer doth aunswere strayte, with playne and open voyce,
That learnde and worthy both they are, and men of perfite choyse.
Whom earst before he neuer saw, nor of their names hath thought.
Then strayte vnto the Acoluth, from th'aultar downe is brought,
A Candle and a Candlesticke, and here they doe resight,
How in the Church his office is, the Candles still to light.
And beare about, an emptie Crust put they at his handes,
Wherewith to giue the Priest his wine, whilst at his Masse he standes
Yet doth he it not, nor place there is where this is lookte vnto,
Besides eche lay man when he list, this holy thing may do.
Yet for the same his crowne is shorne, and heare is cut away,
Nor weare it in that place of length, he euer after may.
The Coniurer receyues the booke, and is commaunded there,
To learne the thinge conteynde therein, and well away to beare,
And for to cast out Deuils by, his powre and force deuine:
He mindes it not, nor of the same doth euer see a line.
For claspt it is deliuerd him, and claspt from thence againe,
Unto the aultar is it borne, whereas it doth remaine.
He driues no Deuils out of men, nor dare the matter proue,
So that this great authoritie, doth serue to no behoue.
The reader then perhaps doth take the Testament in hande,
To teach the people plaine the word of God to vnderstande.
He readeth not, nor hable is sometime, nor seekes to be,
No certaine place appoynted is, nor howre him to se.
The Dorekeeper instructed than, what things he ought to do,
When as this office great of waight, he there doth come vnto.
The Church doore keyes in hande he takes, and to the doore doth bere,
A hempen rope with laughter great, of all that see him there.
Hereby he learnes his duetie is, to shut with diligence
The doores, to keepe the halowed things, and driue the wicked thence.
Yet none of all the same he doth, nor suffered thus to stande,
Yet is there sturre as if there were some wondrous thing in hande,
When as the new made Priestes cannot, their laughter here restraine
But most of all the common sorte, and foolish people vaine.
What should I speake of all things now? I am ashamed here,
To weare my pen and spende the time, about such foolish gere.
For all their holynesse consistes in vestures and in bookes,
And putting stoales about their neckes, with lewde and apish lookes.
On all their left handes euery one, a labell hangeth downe,
The Priestes their fingers grease, ye Bishops hāds, & thumbs & crowne.
But here there is a great a doe, a waightie matter plaine,
To see the oyntmentes drop not downe, nor on theyr heades remaine.
Ech Priest with rubbing dryes his handes, and after that with sande,
Or ashes skouring throughly cleane, ech finger of his hande.
Then breade vnto the aultar from the Ouen whote is brought,
And cut in sundry [illeg.]ppets small, in order there is wrought.
Which on the Bishops greasie pate, in solemne sorte they lay,
And thus dry vp the oyntment there, and take it cleane away.
So carefull are they for these things, that are not worth a strawe,
That neuer an hower doe they leaue, for fayth and christian lawe,
When as they christen belles: that man hath sure a brasen minde,
That can forbeare to laugh and doth, not thinke them Asses blinde,
Who grudgeth not with all his heart, that wickednesse of time,
For gaine hath brought it vnto this, that that most blessed signe,
Which shewes how we receyued are, as seruaunts here of Christ,
And prest to fight against the worlde, as souldiour of the highest,
Shoulde with a senselesse creature be, defilde before our face,
With such adoe, and by a man of such a solemne grace?
The people rounde about resorte, on euery side that bee
Togither, moude with one desire, this wondrous fight to see,
And warned by the wardens of the Church before the day,
The Godfathers are present in their best and chiefe aray.
And some there are that so desire, this honour for to haue,
That of themselues they chalenge it, and earnestly doe craue.
Of these the number is not small, a hundred shalt thou see,
Two hundred yea, three hundred if the bell so worthy bee.
Then foorth at last the Bishop comes in all his wonted geare,
And praying fast he halloweth first, with salt the water cleare.
For without this he hath no powre, though in the day time bright,
A number great of Tapers stande, aboute him alwayes light.
When as he long hath prayed here, he willes them downe to fall,
Vpon their knees and vnto God, to praye in generall,
That he vouchsafe to graunt this bell, a happie christendome,
A lustye sounde to driue away the daungers all that come.
Annoynted then it is in places such as needefull bee,
And where the Priest is pleasde, for in all partes they not agree.
Then biddes he them declare the name, (for as they children name,
So name they belles in euery poynt) and when he knowes the same,
He poures on water lustily, and thrise he doth it wet,
And then with holy Chrisme he doth, his crosses thereon set,
Then straytwayes therevpon he puttes, a lynnen Crysome white,
A vesture such as children weare, when first they come to light.
And now the Godfathers begin, to stirre about and toyle,
To touch and plucke it vp a loft, from out the sacred soyle.
But with their handes they cannot all come neere it now by much,
Therefore with ropes they hale and hoyse, and so farre of doe touch:
And thinke they haue done sufficiently, then giftes they offer all,
Unto their christen daughter, golde, and siluer therewithall.
Ech one woulde then seeme riche, and striues the other to excell,
Hangde vp in steeple hie, they feast, and ioye that this same bell
Hath thus receyude hir christendome, and all that day throughout,
They celebrate with drinke and playe, and daunsing rounde about,
With vomiting, and oftentimes, with brawling and with fight,
And wanton iestures herewithall, and ech vnseemely sight.
What thing more foolish canst thou tell, or hast thou seene before,
Of great and small committed thus, and with religious lore?
In fine regarde this Suffragan, in all his matters hie,
What thing soeuer he doth, it may be laught at worthilie.
For take from him hys sprinckle, and his oyle, and iesturs all,
And that which in the Grecian tongue, they Crisma vse to call:
Thou hast vnarmde him vtterly, and spoylde him of his grace,
That now he is not worth a poynt, in any kinde of place.
And as both Popes and Cardnalles with, their pompe and passing pride
And welthy Bishops fat, euen so, these kinde of men beside,
The Church of Christ full well may spare, with losse and damage small
For shame, and hurtes, and burdens are, they to the people all.
Regarding onely this, that prayse and glorie here assinde
To Christ, in darcknesse deepe to hide, and keepe the people blinde.
The shauen sort and fine yong impes, to plant in kingdome fayre,
As euery one by name is calde, togither stande they theare,
Clad all in Albes, for so they terme the vesture that they weare.
The Bishop doth demaunde if that they good and vertuous bee,
And whether they are learnde and meete, to take this great degree.
The Officer doth aunswere strayte, with playne and open voyce,
That learnde and worthy both they are, and men of perfite choyse.
Whom earst before he neuer saw, nor of their names hath thought.
Then strayte vnto the Acoluth, from th'aultar downe is brought,
A Candle and a Candlesticke, and here they doe resight,
How in the Church his office is, the Candles still to light.
[13]
Wherewith to giue the Priest his wine, whilst at his Masse he standes
Yet doth he it not, nor place there is where this is lookte vnto,
Besides eche lay man when he list, this holy thing may do.
Yet for the same his crowne is shorne, and heare is cut away,
Nor weare it in that place of length, he euer after may.
The Coniurer receyues the booke, and is commaunded there,
To learne the thinge conteynde therein, and well away to beare,
And for to cast out Deuils by, his powre and force deuine:
He mindes it not, nor of the same doth euer see a line.
For claspt it is deliuerd him, and claspt from thence againe,
Unto the aultar is it borne, whereas it doth remaine.
He driues no Deuils out of men, nor dare the matter proue,
So that this great authoritie, doth serue to no behoue.
The reader then perhaps doth take the Testament in hande,
To teach the people plaine the word of God to vnderstande.
He readeth not, nor hable is sometime, nor seekes to be,
No certaine place appoynted is, nor howre him to se.
The Dorekeeper instructed than, what things he ought to do,
When as this office great of waight, he there doth come vnto.
The Church doore keyes in hande he takes, and to the doore doth bere,
A hempen rope with laughter great, of all that see him there.
Hereby he learnes his duetie is, to shut with diligence
The doores, to keepe the halowed things, and driue the wicked thence.
Yet none of all the same he doth, nor suffered thus to stande,
Yet is there sturre as if there were some wondrous thing in hande,
When as the new made Priestes cannot, their laughter here restraine
But most of all the common sorte, and foolish people vaine.
What should I speake of all things now? I am ashamed here,
To weare my pen and spende the time, about such foolish gere.
For all their holynesse consistes in vestures and in bookes,
And putting stoales about their neckes, with lewde and apish lookes.
On all their left handes euery one, a labell hangeth downe,
The Priestes their fingers grease, ye Bishops hāds, & thumbs & crowne.
But here there is a great a doe, a waightie matter plaine,
To see the oyntmentes drop not downe, nor on theyr heades remaine.
14
Or ashes skouring throughly cleane, ech finger of his hande.
Then breade vnto the aultar from the Ouen whote is brought,
And cut in sundry [illeg.]ppets small, in order there is wrought.
Which on the Bishops greasie pate, in solemne sorte they lay,
And thus dry vp the oyntment there, and take it cleane away.
So carefull are they for these things, that are not worth a strawe,
That neuer an hower doe they leaue, for fayth and christian lawe,
When as they christen belles: that man hath sure a brasen minde,
That can forbeare to laugh and doth, not thinke them Asses blinde,
Who grudgeth not with all his heart, that wickednesse of time,
For gaine hath brought it vnto this, that that most blessed signe,
Which shewes how we receyued are, as seruaunts here of Christ,
And prest to fight against the worlde, as souldiour of the highest,
Shoulde with a senselesse creature be, defilde before our face,
With such adoe, and by a man of such a solemne grace?
The people rounde about resorte, on euery side that bee
Togither, moude with one desire, this wondrous fight to see,
And warned by the wardens of the Church before the day,
The Godfathers are present in their best and chiefe aray.
And some there are that so desire, this honour for to haue,
That of themselues they chalenge it, and earnestly doe craue.
Of these the number is not small, a hundred shalt thou see,
Two hundred yea, three hundred if the bell so worthy bee.
Then foorth at last the Bishop comes in all his wonted geare,
And praying fast he halloweth first, with salt the water cleare.
For without this he hath no powre, though in the day time bright,
A number great of Tapers stande, aboute him alwayes light.
When as he long hath prayed here, he willes them downe to fall,
Vpon their knees and vnto God, to praye in generall,
That he vouchsafe to graunt this bell, a happie christendome,
A lustye sounde to driue away the daungers all that come.
Annoynted then it is in places such as needefull bee,
And where the Priest is pleasde, for in all partes they not agree.
Then biddes he them declare the name, (for as they children name,
So name they belles in euery poynt) and when he knowes the same,
[14]
And then with holy Chrisme he doth, his crosses thereon set,
Then straytwayes therevpon he puttes, a lynnen Crysome white,
A vesture such as children weare, when first they come to light.
And now the Godfathers begin, to stirre about and toyle,
To touch and plucke it vp a loft, from out the sacred soyle.
But with their handes they cannot all come neere it now by much,
Therefore with ropes they hale and hoyse, and so farre of doe touch:
And thinke they haue done sufficiently, then giftes they offer all,
Unto their christen daughter, golde, and siluer therewithall.
Ech one woulde then seeme riche, and striues the other to excell,
Hangde vp in steeple hie, they feast, and ioye that this same bell
Hath thus receyude hir christendome, and all that day throughout,
They celebrate with drinke and playe, and daunsing rounde about,
With vomiting, and oftentimes, with brawling and with fight,
And wanton iestures herewithall, and ech vnseemely sight.
What thing more foolish canst thou tell, or hast thou seene before,
Of great and small committed thus, and with religious lore?
In fine regarde this Suffragan, in all his matters hie,
What thing soeuer he doth, it may be laught at worthilie.
For take from him hys sprinckle, and his oyle, and iesturs all,
And that which in the Grecian tongue, they Crisma vse to call:
Thou hast vnarmde him vtterly, and spoylde him of his grace,
That now he is not worth a poynt, in any kinde of place.
And as both Popes and Cardnalles with, their pompe and passing pride
And welthy Bishops fat, euen so, these kinde of men beside,
The Church of Christ full well may spare, with losse and damage small
For shame, and hurtes, and burdens are, they to the people all.
Regarding onely this, that prayse and glorie here assinde
To Christ, in darcknesse deepe to hide, and keepe the people blinde.
FINIS.
15
The .ij. Booke.
Perchaunce
you looke I should declare, their Consistories here,
The warehouse chiefe of all their fraude, & foule deceitfull gere.
Whereas for money crooked things, are made direct and plaine
And blacke is chaunged into white, and white to blacke againe.
As pleaseth him that fightes with Fees, and giues them golde at will.
Such pregnaunt witte haue Doctors there, and such the Proctors skill.
Where gaynes grow not, with long delay, vntride there hanges ye case,
And where the Sutor is but poore, and comes not of a pace.
With giftes they doe begin to feele, and plye the case againe,
And prosecute it then as long, as they see giftes remaine.
Here iustice seldome time is seene, but such as Plutos might
Procures, for gold with weight and shew, weies down both law & right.
By this they breake such mariages, as Gods decrees doe knit,
And ioyne againe in wicked sorte, such as are most vnfit:
Without aduice of Parents had, contracted secretly,
Or fautie for some other cause, or lewde infirmity.
Oft times the cause requires such filthy deedes and tales to tell,
As chaste and honest eares cannot, abide to harken well.
Hereat they laugh a pace and wondrously themselues delight
That thou wouldst swere they only sought, wt this to cheere their spright,
If that the wife be founde to be, an harlot openly,
And from hir husbande, with some beastly knaue away doth fly,
An other wife although the poore vnguiltie man desire,
He cannot haue though needefull lust, and housholde it require.
But is constraynde to seeke a hoore, in countryes farre to rome,
With charges great and hindraunce of his businesse at home.
And after her in euery place, to aske where she hath strayde,
In Churches, markets, and in townes, to craue the Rulers ayde.
Whom if he cannot finde, they graunt, with great ado and strife,
That he another woman take, but yet not as his wife.
But if that after many yeares, the harlot come againe,
And wearied with hir lewde companions, seeketh to remaine,
At home, she hath hir place although, the husbande it denie,
As loth to leaue the other for hir fruite and honestie.
These lawes no bookes of God doe teache, but toyes of mortall braine,
And dreames of Popes wherewith the worlde, defiled doth remaine.
The warehouse chiefe of all their fraude, & foule deceitfull gere.
Whereas for money crooked things, are made direct and plaine
And blacke is chaunged into white, and white to blacke againe.
As pleaseth him that fightes with Fees, and giues them golde at will.
Such pregnaunt witte haue Doctors there, and such the Proctors skill.
Where gaynes grow not, with long delay, vntride there hanges ye case,
And where the Sutor is but poore, and comes not of a pace.
With giftes they doe begin to feele, and plye the case againe,
And prosecute it then as long, as they see giftes remaine.
Here iustice seldome time is seene, but such as Plutos might
Procures, for gold with weight and shew, weies down both law & right.
By this they breake such mariages, as Gods decrees doe knit,
And ioyne againe in wicked sorte, such as are most vnfit:
Without aduice of Parents had, contracted secretly,
Or fautie for some other cause, or lewde infirmity.
Oft times the cause requires such filthy deedes and tales to tell,
As chaste and honest eares cannot, abide to harken well.
Hereat they laugh a pace and wondrously themselues delight
That thou wouldst swere they only sought, wt this to cheere their spright,
If that the wife be founde to be, an harlot openly,
And from hir husbande, with some beastly knaue away doth fly,
An other wife although the poore vnguiltie man desire,
He cannot haue though needefull lust, and housholde it require.
But is constraynde to seeke a hoore, in countryes farre to rome,
With charges great and hindraunce of his businesse at home.
And after her in euery place, to aske where she hath strayde,
In Churches, markets, and in townes, to craue the Rulers ayde.
Whom if he cannot finde, they graunt, with great ado and strife,
That he another woman take, but yet not as his wife.
But if that after many yeares, the harlot come againe,
And wearied with hir lewde companions, seeketh to remaine,
[15]
As loth to leaue the other for hir fruite and honestie.
These lawes no bookes of God doe teache, but toyes of mortall braine,
And dreames of Popes wherewith the worlde, defiled doth remaine.
A member is there of this same, the polling Officiall,
And no small man he, is but one, that guides and ruleth all.
Him must you please and alwayes bribe, and bring him money still,
If that you will your businesse frame, according to your will.
This fellow for the Bishop holdes, and hurles the flashing flame,
And troubles men when often times, no cause requires the same.
Wherefore if any time thou hapst, for to be cited here,
Be sure that when thou comst thou dost, some worthie present bere,
And so thou shalt with ioye depart, and better satisfide,
By much then if thy cause were good, or lawes were on thy side.
Who doth deny but money oft, corrupts the common place?
But polshorne Priestes exceedes them all, in any bribing case.
This kingdome hath an endelesse pitte, whose dampes that dreadfull be
Haue burst abrode and drawne the wealth of all the world we see.
The eger Kite so foloweth not the Chickens here with care,
Ne lustie Egle doth pursue, the faint and fearefull Hare,
As doe these men hange out their nettes, abroade for greedie gaine,
And laye their baites in euery place, the simple sort to traine.
And no small man he, is but one, that guides and ruleth all.
Him must you please and alwayes bribe, and bring him money still,
If that you will your businesse frame, according to your will.
This fellow for the Bishop holdes, and hurles the flashing flame,
And troubles men when often times, no cause requires the same.
Wherefore if any time thou hapst, for to be cited here,
Be sure that when thou comst thou dost, some worthie present bere,
And so thou shalt with ioye depart, and better satisfide,
By much then if thy cause were good, or lawes were on thy side.
Who doth deny but money oft, corrupts the common place?
But polshorne Priestes exceedes them all, in any bribing case.
This kingdome hath an endelesse pitte, whose dampes that dreadfull be
Haue burst abrode and drawne the wealth of all the world we see.
The eger Kite so foloweth not the Chickens here with care,
Ne lustie Egle doth pursue, the faint and fearefull Hare,
As doe these men hange out their nettes, abroade for greedie gaine,
And laye their baites in euery place, the simple sort to traine.
But to the Cannons let vs come, who for the most parte all,
Are Gentlemen descended from some olde and auncient hall.
In olde time onely for such men, as learned were and good,
Though of the common sorte they were, this place appoynted stood.
Which men the people well coulde teache, and helpe in euery thing,
And truly preache the worde of God, and serue th'almightie king.
But when that riches once had hatcht, Dame ydlenesse with care,
Nobilitie respecting ease, and daintie Lordely fare,
Put out the common sorte, although they learnde and Godly were.
And sent them to lesse holynesse, and to more painefull gere.
These men about their shoulders weare, the skinnes that hearie bee,
Of beastes hangde rounde about with tayles, a proper thing to see.
Sometime in mantels blacke they go, according to the time,
As though they mournd, when as no griefe, their pleasant hart doth pine.
They muse why they should laught at be: who would not laugh to skorne
Such foolish weedes, which if a man should weare that were not shorne:
The very boyes with rotten Egges, and durt woulde him beraye,
Or to Phisicions woulde his friendes, go sende him where he maye
Be purged of this humor madde, with pocions two or three,
These men suppose themselues great folkes, and worshipped to bee.
They nothing haue to doe, but that to Church sometime they come,
Arayde in linnen weedes & Cowles, with frowning countnance glome.
Or in their Catskin whoodes with tayles, and woonted iesture prowde,
Whereas their howres Canonicall, they chaunt and sing alowde,
And that alonely with their lippes not praying with their minde,
This same is all their godly lyfe, by which such welth they finde.
What profite they the people here, what gaines the Church hereby?
Or may it not forbeare these men, aswell as may the eye
Forbeare the webbe and painefull pearle? and be aswell without,
As may the perfite foote remaine, without the feeble gout?
What woulde they doe? how coulde they come, to be such iolly men,
If Damasus the Pope of olde, had not deuised them?
Their howres canonicall and eke, decreede with statutes sore,
No Priest should eate his breade at home, and take no paines therefore?
They shoulde be mainetainde for their whoodes, and foolish fonde araye,
And kept as yole lubbers still, for pastime and for playe.
And in some places so they are, for (tender Sowles) they haue gotte,
Least yt with dayly singing they, should straine their stratcht out throtte
Are Gentlemen descended from some olde and auncient hall.
In olde time onely for such men, as learned were and good,
Though of the common sorte they were, this place appoynted stood.
Which men the people well coulde teache, and helpe in euery thing,
And truly preache the worde of God, and serue th'almightie king.
But when that riches once had hatcht, Dame ydlenesse with care,
Nobilitie respecting ease, and daintie Lordely fare,
Put out the common sorte, although they learnde and Godly were.
And sent them to lesse holynesse, and to more painefull gere.
These men about their shoulders weare, the skinnes that hearie bee,
Of beastes hangde rounde about with tayles, a proper thing to see.
Sometime in mantels blacke they go, according to the time,
As though they mournd, when as no griefe, their pleasant hart doth pine.
16
Such foolish weedes, which if a man should weare that were not shorne:
The very boyes with rotten Egges, and durt woulde him beraye,
Or to Phisicions woulde his friendes, go sende him where he maye
Be purged of this humor madde, with pocions two or three,
These men suppose themselues great folkes, and worshipped to bee.
They nothing haue to doe, but that to Church sometime they come,
Arayde in linnen weedes & Cowles, with frowning countnance glome.
Or in their Catskin whoodes with tayles, and woonted iesture prowde,
Whereas their howres Canonicall, they chaunt and sing alowde,
And that alonely with their lippes not praying with their minde,
This same is all their godly lyfe, by which such welth they finde.
What profite they the people here, what gaines the Church hereby?
Or may it not forbeare these men, aswell as may the eye
Forbeare the webbe and painefull pearle? and be aswell without,
As may the perfite foote remaine, without the feeble gout?
What woulde they doe? how coulde they come, to be such iolly men,
If Damasus the Pope of olde, had not deuised them?
Their howres canonicall and eke, decreede with statutes sore,
No Priest should eate his breade at home, and take no paines therefore?
They shoulde be mainetainde for their whoodes, and foolish fonde araye,
And kept as yole lubbers still, for pastime and for playe.
And in some places so they are, for (tender Sowles) they haue gotte,
Least yt with dayly singing they, should straine their stratcht out throtte
Some other in their romes doe sing, whom Quier men they call,
These men for money doe dispatch, the seauen howres and all,
Though neuer a worde they vnderstand, for gaine is all their cheare,
Although it be but small for which it is a wondrous worke to heare
How ioyfully they ringe it out, and fill the Church with noyse,
How ech one striues for to excell, the other with his voyce.
Thou wouldst suppose they all were dronke, or some rewarde thereby,
For which they striue with all their might, to get the victorie.
By meanes of these the Cannons are, dischargde of burden great,
And scarce at howres, or masse they sitte, thus silent in their seat.
And onely hearers now they are: yea this doth seeme a paine,
And labour great vnto these men, which scarcely they sustaine.
They rather choose to sit by fyre, and talke and chat at will,
Than for to dull their eares with Psalmes, whereof they haue no skill.
And sauing on the holy dayes, the Church they come not at,
For present there they money haue, and none but lyketh that.
Yet scarcely can they tarie till, their money giuen bee,
Which done, they go and leaue the Church, to such as hired bee.
These are the toyles and trauayles great, for which of charitie,
Great giftes they haue, fayre houses buylde, and maysters called be.
Besides at home they Parots keepe, and Apes and Munckeys store,
And Haukes and Houndes with horse, that well are furnisht euermore.
And neuer seekes for to restraine, the pleasures of their minde,
A thing that common is almost, to all the Popish kinde.
These men for money doe dispatch, the seauen howres and all,
Though neuer a worde they vnderstand, for gaine is all their cheare,
Although it be but small for which it is a wondrous worke to heare
How ioyfully they ringe it out, and fill the Church with noyse,
How ech one striues for to excell, the other with his voyce.
Thou wouldst suppose they all were dronke, or some rewarde thereby,
For which they striue with all their might, to get the victorie.
By meanes of these the Cannons are, dischargde of burden great,
And scarce at howres, or masse they sitte, thus silent in their seat.
And onely hearers now they are: yea this doth seeme a paine,
And labour great vnto these men, which scarcely they sustaine.
[16]
Than for to dull their eares with Psalmes, whereof they haue no skill.
And sauing on the holy dayes, the Church they come not at,
For present there they money haue, and none but lyketh that.
Yet scarcely can they tarie till, their money giuen bee,
Which done, they go and leaue the Church, to such as hired bee.
These are the toyles and trauayles great, for which of charitie,
Great giftes they haue, fayre houses buylde, and maysters called be.
Besides at home they Parots keepe, and Apes and Munckeys store,
And Haukes and Houndes with horse, that well are furnisht euermore.
And neuer seekes for to restraine, the pleasures of their minde,
A thing that common is almost, to all the Popish kinde.
Besides a people lewde there is, a hatefull sorte withall,
Whome as I heare and vnderstande, they Curtisans doe call,
Who running from their maysters or, their parents in dispite,
Doe come to Rome all ragd[illeg.] and torne, in miserable plite,
And to some Cardnalles stable creepe, or to some Bishop great,
And keepe their horse, themselues ye while being almost starued for meat:
Till after many yeares, and many labours past and knowne,
Their maisters minde to help them there, though nothing wt their owne
(For all the Popish court doth loue, such seruaunts as doe liue,
Without wages, and alwayes readier are to take than giue.
They nothing count a thousand Crownes to spende in pompe and pride
And grudge their man a coate or cloake, now halfe with colde destride.
Such charitie is at Rome) therefore according to their guise,
They make them Priestes, & after yt they haue taught them to be wise,
They sende them to their countrey strayte, with Bulles and licence all,
Whereas such Prebendes now they take, as in some monthes doe fall.
(But here they haue heddes alone, the Gripe doth not so swiftly snatche,
The carcase vile, nor doth the fire so soone the tinder catche,
Nor Owle that in the day time here, doth happen for to sing,
With lothsome shape the wondring birdes, about hir flocking bring.)
They are straight at hand, and pleade the month vnto the Pope assinde,
And of their licences doe boast, with loftie looking minde.
Who so denies, is threatned sore, with law and cruell strife,
And court of Rome, where Popish ayde and fauour still is rife.
Who so will here to trouble bring himselfe, and losse withall,
Who so will wast for Charters vaine, and smacke such popish gall,
And go to Rome about the cause, to seeke vncertayne shiftes,
And thinke for to repeale the graunt, for money and for giftes,
(When right hath no prerogatiue) this surely were the part
Of one that had his purse at will, or else a lustie hart.
The Patrone here amazed standes, repyning secretly,
To be depriued of his right, and take such iniury.
Such as are good and learnd giue place, and dare not here contend,
With Monsters such, nor go to Rome to trie the finall end.
Yet are they not content with one, the value being great,
But seaze vpon some other such, with fraude and like deceat.
Aswell vnto their maisters vse, as to their owne behoue,
That they may shew what thankfull minds they haue, & how they loue.
Such preetie Begles haue these Bishops still in euery place,
That hunt out Prebendes fatte for them, and follow fresh the chace.
And some of them hereby augment their liuing verie much,
And fill their Coffers many tymes by bringing in of such.
But resident these Courtiers are, and many times there dwell,
Sometime againe forsaking all, their benifice they sell,
And home to Rome they runne as fast, and graunts they purchase new,
Of Prebendes such as other Monthes doe happen to be due.
Sometime reseruing nothing to themselues, they secretly
Do sell and put them all away not fearing Symony.
For lawes they wey not here a rushe, they care for nothing than,
And no man feare, but rather fearde they are of euery man.
In Rome they onely put their trust, and for the place alone
They think men must be fearde, & here they count themselues at home.
Some others get these Prebendes by a straunge and wonderous way,
Their grauntes obtaynde, and month well markde they chaunge their own aray.
And coūterfeyt the countriman, or else some beggers state,
Till that the Church doore open stande, or else the Prebend gate,
And on the aultare streight they leape, eche man amazde to see,
What monstruous act shall there be shewed, or pageaunt played be.
And tell the people there, that by the Popes aucthoritie,
They holde the Prebend longing to that Church and aultar hie.
Desiring both the Patrone, and the people all and some,
They trouble him not, nor rashely deale, least that they come to Rome.
That of the Popes bequestes they there will thus possession take,
What would you more? the verie name doth make them all to quake.
The Patrone straight giues place, and he, to whome he ment the same,
The Sea of Rome doth make them all to tremble at the name.
They list not striue so farre from home, nor would they cited bee,
And both consume their goodes and tyme with men of no degree.
Thus enter they into the house, as men that make no doubt,
Commaunding such as there doe dwell, to get them straightwayes out.
And to deliuer vp the keyes, according to their will,
For shamelesse fortune alwayes helpes such lustie fellowes still.
Perhaps thou thinkst they learning haue, and can sufficiently
Both guide and teach, whereby the people haue no harme thereby.
Thou art deceyude, but few are learnde. The greatest part that bee,
Scarce vnderstand a learned worde, nor can their A.B.C.
As men that late from rubbing of a horses heeles are brought,
And neuer came in companie where Grammer rules are taught.
Some scarce doe know the vulgare speach, nor can the peoples tongue,
That all men hate them worthily, and both the olde and yong
Doe cursse the orders fonde of Rome, that thus deuised arre,
As things that trouble all the worlde, and all estates doe marre.
Whome as I heare and vnderstande, they Curtisans doe call,
Who running from their maysters or, their parents in dispite,
Doe come to Rome all ragd[illeg.] and torne, in miserable plite,
And to some Cardnalles stable creepe, or to some Bishop great,
And keepe their horse, themselues ye while being almost starued for meat:
Till after many yeares, and many labours past and knowne,
Their maisters minde to help them there, though nothing wt their owne
(For all the Popish court doth loue, such seruaunts as doe liue,
Without wages, and alwayes readier are to take than giue.
They nothing count a thousand Crownes to spende in pompe and pride
And grudge their man a coate or cloake, now halfe with colde destride.
Such charitie is at Rome) therefore according to their guise,
They make them Priestes, & after yt they haue taught them to be wise,
They sende them to their countrey strayte, with Bulles and licence all,
Whereas such Prebendes now they take, as in some monthes doe fall.
(But here they haue heddes alone, the Gripe doth not so swiftly snatche,
The carcase vile, nor doth the fire so soone the tinder catche,
Nor Owle that in the day time here, doth happen for to sing,
With lothsome shape the wondring birdes, about hir flocking bring.)
They are straight at hand, and pleade the month vnto the Pope assinde,
And of their licences doe boast, with loftie looking minde.
Who so denies, is threatned sore, with law and cruell strife,
And court of Rome, where Popish ayde and fauour still is rife.
17
Who so will wast for Charters vaine, and smacke such popish gall,
And go to Rome about the cause, to seeke vncertayne shiftes,
And thinke for to repeale the graunt, for money and for giftes,
(When right hath no prerogatiue) this surely were the part
Of one that had his purse at will, or else a lustie hart.
The Patrone here amazed standes, repyning secretly,
To be depriued of his right, and take such iniury.
Such as are good and learnd giue place, and dare not here contend,
With Monsters such, nor go to Rome to trie the finall end.
Yet are they not content with one, the value being great,
But seaze vpon some other such, with fraude and like deceat.
Aswell vnto their maisters vse, as to their owne behoue,
That they may shew what thankfull minds they haue, & how they loue.
Such preetie Begles haue these Bishops still in euery place,
That hunt out Prebendes fatte for them, and follow fresh the chace.
And some of them hereby augment their liuing verie much,
And fill their Coffers many tymes by bringing in of such.
But resident these Courtiers are, and many times there dwell,
Sometime againe forsaking all, their benifice they sell,
And home to Rome they runne as fast, and graunts they purchase new,
Of Prebendes such as other Monthes doe happen to be due.
Sometime reseruing nothing to themselues, they secretly
Do sell and put them all away not fearing Symony.
For lawes they wey not here a rushe, they care for nothing than,
And no man feare, but rather fearde they are of euery man.
In Rome they onely put their trust, and for the place alone
They think men must be fearde, & here they count themselues at home.
Some others get these Prebendes by a straunge and wonderous way,
Their grauntes obtaynde, and month well markde they chaunge their own aray.
And coūterfeyt the countriman, or else some beggers state,
Till that the Church doore open stande, or else the Prebend gate,
And on the aultare streight they leape, eche man amazde to see,
What monstruous act shall there be shewed, or pageaunt played be.
And tell the people there, that by the Popes aucthoritie,
They holde the Prebend longing to that Church and aultar hie.
[17]
They trouble him not, nor rashely deale, least that they come to Rome.
That of the Popes bequestes they there will thus possession take,
What would you more? the verie name doth make them all to quake.
The Patrone straight giues place, and he, to whome he ment the same,
The Sea of Rome doth make them all to tremble at the name.
They list not striue so farre from home, nor would they cited bee,
And both consume their goodes and tyme with men of no degree.
Thus enter they into the house, as men that make no doubt,
Commaunding such as there doe dwell, to get them straightwayes out.
And to deliuer vp the keyes, according to their will,
For shamelesse fortune alwayes helpes such lustie fellowes still.
Perhaps thou thinkst they learning haue, and can sufficiently
Both guide and teach, whereby the people haue no harme thereby.
Thou art deceyude, but few are learnde. The greatest part that bee,
Scarce vnderstand a learned worde, nor can their A.B.C.
As men that late from rubbing of a horses heeles are brought,
And neuer came in companie where Grammer rules are taught.
Some scarce doe know the vulgare speach, nor can the peoples tongue,
That all men hate them worthily, and both the olde and yong
Doe cursse the orders fonde of Rome, that thus deuised arre,
As things that trouble all the worlde, and all estates doe marre.
There Parsons also are, that in the villages remaine,
And in the townes, that iustly doe their offices obtaine.
Some part of them are learnde and good, and some vnlearned bee,
And farre vnmeete for to attaine vnto so hie degree.
Their dutie is to preach vnto the people earnestlye,
And minister the sacraments, and other matters hye.
If any profite of the popishe sort might come vnto
The people, surely these were they that should the matter do.
Nor should they ydlely liue at home, but must their bookes apply,
Except they would be counted blinde, and laught at commonly.
But since the Pope subuerted hath all right in generall,
And hath with lothsome poyson stuft and staynde his members all:
These also teach no doctrine pure, but all with poyson drest
And mingled still, which earst they drew and suckte from mothers brest.
As dreames and superstitions great, and childishe seruice vaine,
And many lewde vngodly things inuented all for gaine.
They can not onely Christ regarde, while thus the matter standes,
Nor vnto heaven bring the soules committed to their handes.
Them lettes the great respect to Rome, and eke the Pope their head,
One of no small account, a man of kings and princes dread.
Besides the great agreement of such as in Pulpets speake.
A matter hard it is such barres and stoppes of truth to breake:
And for a man to striue agaynst his profite and his gaine,
No mischiefe without lucre is, nor superstition vaine.
Wherefore it doth endure, and yet is kept vnto this day,
With tooth and nayle in euery place, and maintainde euery way.
So that the simple people get no kinde of good thereby,
But nusseled from their youth by these, in vile Idolatry.
What should I tell you how they vse their seruices deuine,
With mans inuentions all defilde, corrupted with the tyme?
And how they, haue set out a booke full of such filthinesse,
From which to treade an inch awry they count a wickednesse.
Their doctrine and their dealings all, with filth defiled lye,
And greater hurt the people take, than fruit or gaine thereby.
For not alonely doth the Preacher here the worde declare
Untruly to the people, but oft leauing it, doth square
And spend the tyme about complaints and rayling openly
If any haue defamed him, or haue not worthily
Him honoured. If any haue their tythes not duly brought.
In fine what wrong or iniury agaynst the man is wrought:
The Pulpet streightwayes rings therof, and all the Church doth sound
Of raylings, and of spitefull wordes, his chiefe and greatest ground.
Amongst them some there are that to the people doe foretell,
If Springtime, Sommer, Haruest, or the Winter happen well:
What store of Wheate shall be, and of the other courser graine,
How Mast shall prooue, and how the Uine shall yeelde hir fruite againe.
Besides of warres and sicknesses, of plagues and other geare
They tell, to which the people giue a more attentiue eare
By which, then if he there should speake of Christ or godlinesse,
Of fayth, good workes, or of the lawe, and perfite holinesse.
Some tell againe the Turkes affayres, or of the Emprours warres,
Of Spaine, of Fraunce, of Uenice, or of lustie Myllanarres.
And fill the peoples eares with this, till time be finished,
But most when of the Gospell they yll fauouredly haue red.
Some part where of their duetie were to see the people taught,
And to expound it openly: then in the dead are brought,
And beadroll long recited is, of euery bodyes name
For which they are payde, supposing thus to scape the fayned flame.
Lo this their doctrine is, and this is all the care they haue,
In seruing of th'almightie Lorde, whose seruice they depraue.
Then out of hand to Masse they go, and dine in heathnish wise,
That is not hauing fayth, content with olde accustomde guise.
When dinners done, to th'alehouse streight they go as merry as Pyes,
And tipple with their neighbours there, or else some sport deuyes.
To passe the tyme with Cardes and dice, or with some wanton talke,
Whereas a note aboue them all, their tongue doth alwayes walke.
These also should dispatch their houres and seruice orderly,
Which they let passe, except they see some worthie company,
Abrode into the fieldes they walke themselues for to disport,
And viewe the corne or heare some tales, to make the tyme more short.
And least the nightes should seeme to long, eche one at home doth keepe,
A pleasaunt Dame that in his armes all night doth sweetely sleepe.
Lo thus they spend their time, and on this sort doe alwayes liue.
The holy Ghost vnto th'elect true godlinesse must giue.
And euen in their dying houre must Christ to them disclose,
The meane that saude our fathers long ago as I suppose:
Whereby they wonderously escapde the darknesse that was then:
For surely none shall saued be, by meanes of these same men.
And in the townes, that iustly doe their offices obtaine.
Some part of them are learnde and good, and some vnlearned bee,
And farre vnmeete for to attaine vnto so hie degree.
Their dutie is to preach vnto the people earnestlye,
And minister the sacraments, and other matters hye.
If any profite of the popishe sort might come vnto
The people, surely these were they that should the matter do.
Nor should they ydlely liue at home, but must their bookes apply,
Except they would be counted blinde, and laught at commonly.
But since the Pope subuerted hath all right in generall,
And hath with lothsome poyson stuft and staynde his members all:
These also teach no doctrine pure, but all with poyson drest
And mingled still, which earst they drew and suckte from mothers brest.
18
And many lewde vngodly things inuented all for gaine.
They can not onely Christ regarde, while thus the matter standes,
Nor vnto heaven bring the soules committed to their handes.
Them lettes the great respect to Rome, and eke the Pope their head,
One of no small account, a man of kings and princes dread.
Besides the great agreement of such as in Pulpets speake.
A matter hard it is such barres and stoppes of truth to breake:
And for a man to striue agaynst his profite and his gaine,
No mischiefe without lucre is, nor superstition vaine.
Wherefore it doth endure, and yet is kept vnto this day,
With tooth and nayle in euery place, and maintainde euery way.
So that the simple people get no kinde of good thereby,
But nusseled from their youth by these, in vile Idolatry.
What should I tell you how they vse their seruices deuine,
With mans inuentions all defilde, corrupted with the tyme?
And how they, haue set out a booke full of such filthinesse,
From which to treade an inch awry they count a wickednesse.
Their doctrine and their dealings all, with filth defiled lye,
And greater hurt the people take, than fruit or gaine thereby.
For not alonely doth the Preacher here the worde declare
Untruly to the people, but oft leauing it, doth square
And spend the tyme about complaints and rayling openly
If any haue defamed him, or haue not worthily
Him honoured. If any haue their tythes not duly brought.
In fine what wrong or iniury agaynst the man is wrought:
The Pulpet streightwayes rings therof, and all the Church doth sound
Of raylings, and of spitefull wordes, his chiefe and greatest ground.
Amongst them some there are that to the people doe foretell,
If Springtime, Sommer, Haruest, or the Winter happen well:
What store of Wheate shall be, and of the other courser graine,
How Mast shall prooue, and how the Uine shall yeelde hir fruite againe.
Besides of warres and sicknesses, of plagues and other geare
They tell, to which the people giue a more attentiue eare
By which, then if he there should speake of Christ or godlinesse,
Of fayth, good workes, or of the lawe, and perfite holinesse.
[18]
Of Spaine, of Fraunce, of Uenice, or of lustie Myllanarres.
And fill the peoples eares with this, till time be finished,
But most when of the Gospell they yll fauouredly haue red.
Some part where of their duetie were to see the people taught,
And to expound it openly: then in the dead are brought,
And beadroll long recited is, of euery bodyes name
For which they are payde, supposing thus to scape the fayned flame.
Lo this their doctrine is, and this is all the care they haue,
In seruing of th'almightie Lorde, whose seruice they depraue.
Then out of hand to Masse they go, and dine in heathnish wise,
That is not hauing fayth, content with olde accustomde guise.
When dinners done, to th'alehouse streight they go as merry as Pyes,
And tipple with their neighbours there, or else some sport deuyes.
To passe the tyme with Cardes and dice, or with some wanton talke,
Whereas a note aboue them all, their tongue doth alwayes walke.
These also should dispatch their houres and seruice orderly,
Which they let passe, except they see some worthie company,
Abrode into the fieldes they walke themselues for to disport,
And viewe the corne or heare some tales, to make the tyme more short.
And least the nightes should seeme to long, eche one at home doth keepe,
A pleasaunt Dame that in his armes all night doth sweetely sleepe.
Lo thus they spend their time, and on this sort doe alwayes liue.
The holy Ghost vnto th'elect true godlinesse must giue.
And euen in their dying houre must Christ to them disclose,
The meane that saude our fathers long ago as I suppose:
Whereby they wonderously escapde the darknesse that was then:
For surely none shall saued be, by meanes of these same men.
Tell on good Muses for the swarmes of Monkes doe yet remaine,
And not the meanest members of this same most holy raigne.
These men forsaking cleane the worlde, and lothing all things heare
Attyre themselues in straunge aray, and certaine colours weare.
And frame themselues a rule to live and follow euerychone,
As if so be the rule of Christ sufficed not alone.
And with their threefolde solemne vowes into the townes they go,
Or to some desart place remooude farre of from people tho.
And by their proper force they thinke vnto the Skies to clime,
And scape the euerlasting chaynes of death for deadly crime.
Whereby they shewe the wickednesse that in their heart doth lie,
And how they wey not Christ nor yet his famous victorie.
Moreouer to their owne good workes they arrogantly cleaue,
And of their merites great they vaunt the people to deceaue.
And notably they haue deceyude, not onely simple men,
With their hypocrisie, but also kings, perswading them
To buy their merites and, desartes of price and value great,
And how they should be sure to saue their soules, and haue a seat
Aboue the Starres, if they would builde them gorgious houses hie,
And giue them landes to feede their paunch, and fat themselues, wherby
They might consume their dayes and spend their life at ease, and well,
And striue the Dormowses themselues in sleeping to excell.
For what thing else doe they regarde, or euer doe applie?
The little children in the streetes these things can testifie.
They vaunt how that they worship God, and seruice dayly sing,
And how they pray and often fast (an acceptable thing.)
Who doth not wonder at these things, and at these trauayles tolde,
And thinke them worthie of such welth and Dukedoms here to holde.
As many kings haue giuen them, and Dukes in elder dayes?
A goodly kinde of worship sure, and much deseruing prayse.
While as they chaunt vp Psalmes aloude, whereof they haue no skill,
And pray with lips and not with heart, and Church with noyses fill.
Nor other mens afflictions nowe they way that thus haue sped,
Who will suppose that they can care that thus in dreames are ded?
Therefore they are no prayers at all, but voyces lewde and vaine,
As when the hungrie hogs doe grunt that in the stie remaine.
But often doe they fast, and fleshe and whitmeates bothforbeare,
So alwayes vsed to daintie faire, they count it fasting heare.
If that two meales they doe not eate the shortest dayes that bee,
And be not serued at supper with the daintiest meates they see.
Such monstrous dinners doe they make, that fulnesse doth compell,
Their girdles for to let at large whiles as their bellies swell,
Like Horseleaches or lothsome Tickes, that swell with filthie blood,
Great fishes doe they heare deuour, who can prepare so good
A meale of fleshe, or will desire with egges for to be fed,
While as the Table with such store of fishe is furnished?
Besides with pleasant Wines they fill themselues, and quaffe amaine,
Till red about the gilles they looke, and belch it vp againe.
That this may fasting called be, both Milo will denie,
And eke Apitius, he that was the Prince of gluttonie,
And all the Catian schoole, and eke the troupe of Iewes beside,
And of the verie Turkes themselues, it will be sure denide.
These men yet with hypocrisie, and cloke of holinesse,
Haue brought the people, Kings, and Dukes, vnto such foolishnesse,
That they supposde them chast and good, and farre from worldly men
In all their deedes, and bought good workes, and heaven eke of them.
O strong illusions, and deceytes, O miserable tyde,
That brought these men, as if there were not ylles ynough besyde.
But wherefore should they leaue the worlde, and flie from companie,
And hide themselues in Forrestes thus, and in the desartes lie?
Bicause it is corrupted quite, and bent to wicked lore?
Who doth denie? But therefore hath it neede a great deale more
To haue Phisitions still at hande, that good and faythfull bee,
And able are for euery sore to giue a remedie.
And not such fellowes as will runne away for lothsomnesse:
And shaken with the feuer, leaue his pacient in distresse.
In darkenesse doth it liue? more nedes the light of holy men.
As Christ sometyme did lighten it, and his Disciples then.
Or doe they thinke that they shall staine their lyfe with companie,
Where they may leade a Godly life, and well themselues applie?
No flight can this procure, but fayth and vertuous pacient minde,
That can resist the raging stormes of any blustring winde.
Daniel that dwelt at Babylon, and many Iewes beside,
Whose mindes were alwayes godly bent, and faythfull oft were tride,
Amidst the Gentiles godly liude, and serued God arightes:
So Loth did likewise leade his life among the Sodomites.
And Ioseph ruled Egypt well, obseruing euery iotte
Of Moyses lawe, and chastly kept his minde from any spotte.
For if they alter not their mindes, that ouer Seas do runne,
No woodes nor wildernesse shall cause this same for to be donne.
But rather shall they more infect, and worser much shall staine
The mindes of men addiced thus, to fonde traditions vaine.
The spirit there oppressed is, ne can they lift their eyes
Aloft to viewe the way that leades directly to the skyes.
Besides more worldly mindes they haue, and of more wanton chere,
Than worldly men. Nought in the world is done, but Monks are there.
If that the Counsell for the common welth assembled bee,
They are present there, and giue out lawes by their aucthoritee.
In warres they be, on Princes campes they euermore attende,
And townes of force and Castles strong, with weapons they defende:
If any wedding great be had, they are present still at hande,
If any Church be dedicate, they present there do stande.
Then hath the Comedy all hir partes. What should I here resight
Their ryot, pompe, and passing pride, and all their fonde delight,
Which doth declare their wicked mind? what helpes their straūge aray,
And crowne shorne downe vnto their eares, and houses from the way?
Since that of Monkes the worlde may learne, a worldly life to frame,
And so is forced, and hath no meanes for to eschewe the same.
It gladly would, and seeketh oft, of them for to be rid,
But fast as Burres to wooll they sticke, or Sowtars waxe in thrid.
If they themselues would shun the world, & far from thence would flie,
And in the frosen Northren partes, would altogither lie,
A better thing to please the worlde, they neuer could inuent,
Nor any thing deuise that would the people more content.
But now regarde their threefolde vowes, how yll they doe agree,
And in their life how lewdly they vnmeete obserued bee.
They vowe t'obbay their Abbot, or their Prior placed hie,
Which Abbot if he vertuous be, and godlynesse applie,
(As seldome haps) and doe commaunde such things as God doth will,
Why should he not obeyed be, and had in honour still?
We all are bound that at the Font receyue our Christendome,
To heare such men as truly teach the trade of life to come.
No vowes we neede, or shauen crownes such men for to obay,
Nor for to chaunge our clothing here, to straunge and fonde aray.
But if he neyther godly be, nor godlinesse doe teach,
But foolish fansies of his owne, and mans decrees doe preach:
Then is it sure a wickednesse, to vowe or to obay.
Such as in bondage bring the heart, and teach to runne astray.
Their whole religion doth consist in singing day and night,
In rules of life and sundrie lawes and gestures fonde and light.
As if that God such worship likde, deuisde by mortall braine,
Or rather had not plainely taught that all such stuffe is vaine.
But wherefore stand I herevpon, and wordes in vaine bestowe?
Since all the popish kingdome here no better things do knowe?
All men are bound to chastitie, but for to shunne the state
Of blessed mariage, and the bed that is immaculate,
We then shall be of force when as no lust in vs doth raigne,
And when no raging heate of flesh, doth force our feeble braine.
But nowe howe chast they liue, the boyes in euery streete can tell,
And Citizens are sore afrayde, when nere to them they dwell.
What should I other things declare, that honest eares and chast,
Could not abide to heare, nor of such lothsome things to tast?
Why boast they so of pouertie, doth vertue herein lie?
Can none but poore men godly liue, and vp to heauen flie?
When as the poore man hath as many lettes in liuing well,
As hath the richest man aliue, that others doe excell.
But pouertie they fowly scorne, and shamefully deride,
Aswell in Lordly fare, as in their pompe and passing pride.
And in their vowes and wicked life, they plainly doe expresse,
That neyther God nor man they wey, nor any vertuousnesse.
And not the meanest members of this same most holy raigne.
These men forsaking cleane the worlde, and lothing all things heare
Attyre themselues in straunge aray, and certaine colours weare.
And frame themselues a rule to live and follow euerychone,
As if so be the rule of Christ sufficed not alone.
And with their threefolde solemne vowes into the townes they go,
Or to some desart place remooude farre of from people tho.
19
And scape the euerlasting chaynes of death for deadly crime.
Whereby they shewe the wickednesse that in their heart doth lie,
And how they wey not Christ nor yet his famous victorie.
Moreouer to their owne good workes they arrogantly cleaue,
And of their merites great they vaunt the people to deceaue.
And notably they haue deceyude, not onely simple men,
With their hypocrisie, but also kings, perswading them
To buy their merites and, desartes of price and value great,
And how they should be sure to saue their soules, and haue a seat
Aboue the Starres, if they would builde them gorgious houses hie,
And giue them landes to feede their paunch, and fat themselues, wherby
They might consume their dayes and spend their life at ease, and well,
And striue the Dormowses themselues in sleeping to excell.
For what thing else doe they regarde, or euer doe applie?
The little children in the streetes these things can testifie.
They vaunt how that they worship God, and seruice dayly sing,
And how they pray and often fast (an acceptable thing.)
Who doth not wonder at these things, and at these trauayles tolde,
And thinke them worthie of such welth and Dukedoms here to holde.
As many kings haue giuen them, and Dukes in elder dayes?
A goodly kinde of worship sure, and much deseruing prayse.
While as they chaunt vp Psalmes aloude, whereof they haue no skill,
And pray with lips and not with heart, and Church with noyses fill.
Nor other mens afflictions nowe they way that thus haue sped,
Who will suppose that they can care that thus in dreames are ded?
Therefore they are no prayers at all, but voyces lewde and vaine,
As when the hungrie hogs doe grunt that in the stie remaine.
But often doe they fast, and fleshe and whitmeates bothforbeare,
So alwayes vsed to daintie faire, they count it fasting heare.
If that two meales they doe not eate the shortest dayes that bee,
And be not serued at supper with the daintiest meates they see.
Such monstrous dinners doe they make, that fulnesse doth compell,
Their girdles for to let at large whiles as their bellies swell,
Like Horseleaches or lothsome Tickes, that swell with filthie blood,
Great fishes doe they heare deuour, who can prepare so good
[19]
While as the Table with such store of fishe is furnished?
Besides with pleasant Wines they fill themselues, and quaffe amaine,
Till red about the gilles they looke, and belch it vp againe.
That this may fasting called be, both Milo will denie,
And eke Apitius, he that was the Prince of gluttonie,
And all the Catian schoole, and eke the troupe of Iewes beside,
And of the verie Turkes themselues, it will be sure denide.
These men yet with hypocrisie, and cloke of holinesse,
Haue brought the people, Kings, and Dukes, vnto such foolishnesse,
That they supposde them chast and good, and farre from worldly men
In all their deedes, and bought good workes, and heaven eke of them.
O strong illusions, and deceytes, O miserable tyde,
That brought these men, as if there were not ylles ynough besyde.
But wherefore should they leaue the worlde, and flie from companie,
And hide themselues in Forrestes thus, and in the desartes lie?
Bicause it is corrupted quite, and bent to wicked lore?
Who doth denie? But therefore hath it neede a great deale more
To haue Phisitions still at hande, that good and faythfull bee,
And able are for euery sore to giue a remedie.
And not such fellowes as will runne away for lothsomnesse:
And shaken with the feuer, leaue his pacient in distresse.
In darkenesse doth it liue? more nedes the light of holy men.
As Christ sometyme did lighten it, and his Disciples then.
Or doe they thinke that they shall staine their lyfe with companie,
Where they may leade a Godly life, and well themselues applie?
No flight can this procure, but fayth and vertuous pacient minde,
That can resist the raging stormes of any blustring winde.
Daniel that dwelt at Babylon, and many Iewes beside,
Whose mindes were alwayes godly bent, and faythfull oft were tride,
Amidst the Gentiles godly liude, and serued God arightes:
So Loth did likewise leade his life among the Sodomites.
And Ioseph ruled Egypt well, obseruing euery iotte
Of Moyses lawe, and chastly kept his minde from any spotte.
For if they alter not their mindes, that ouer Seas do runne,
No woodes nor wildernesse shall cause this same for to be donne.
20
The mindes of men addiced thus, to fonde traditions vaine.
The spirit there oppressed is, ne can they lift their eyes
Aloft to viewe the way that leades directly to the skyes.
Besides more worldly mindes they haue, and of more wanton chere,
Than worldly men. Nought in the world is done, but Monks are there.
If that the Counsell for the common welth assembled bee,
They are present there, and giue out lawes by their aucthoritee.
In warres they be, on Princes campes they euermore attende,
And townes of force and Castles strong, with weapons they defende:
If any wedding great be had, they are present still at hande,
If any Church be dedicate, they present there do stande.
Then hath the Comedy all hir partes. What should I here resight
Their ryot, pompe, and passing pride, and all their fonde delight,
Which doth declare their wicked mind? what helpes their straūge aray,
And crowne shorne downe vnto their eares, and houses from the way?
Since that of Monkes the worlde may learne, a worldly life to frame,
And so is forced, and hath no meanes for to eschewe the same.
It gladly would, and seeketh oft, of them for to be rid,
But fast as Burres to wooll they sticke, or Sowtars waxe in thrid.
If they themselues would shun the world, & far from thence would flie,
And in the frosen Northren partes, would altogither lie,
A better thing to please the worlde, they neuer could inuent,
Nor any thing deuise that would the people more content.
But now regarde their threefolde vowes, how yll they doe agree,
And in their life how lewdly they vnmeete obserued bee.
They vowe t'obbay their Abbot, or their Prior placed hie,
Which Abbot if he vertuous be, and godlynesse applie,
(As seldome haps) and doe commaunde such things as God doth will,
Why should he not obeyed be, and had in honour still?
We all are bound that at the Font receyue our Christendome,
To heare such men as truly teach the trade of life to come.
No vowes we neede, or shauen crownes such men for to obay,
Nor for to chaunge our clothing here, to straunge and fonde aray.
But if he neyther godly be, nor godlinesse doe teach,
But foolish fansies of his owne, and mans decrees doe preach:
[20]
Such as in bondage bring the heart, and teach to runne astray.
Their whole religion doth consist in singing day and night,
In rules of life and sundrie lawes and gestures fonde and light.
As if that God such worship likde, deuisde by mortall braine,
Or rather had not plainely taught that all such stuffe is vaine.
But wherefore stand I herevpon, and wordes in vaine bestowe?
Since all the popish kingdome here no better things do knowe?
All men are bound to chastitie, but for to shunne the state
Of blessed mariage, and the bed that is immaculate,
We then shall be of force when as no lust in vs doth raigne,
And when no raging heate of flesh, doth force our feeble braine.
But nowe howe chast they liue, the boyes in euery streete can tell,
And Citizens are sore afrayde, when nere to them they dwell.
What should I other things declare, that honest eares and chast,
Could not abide to heare, nor of such lothsome things to tast?
Why boast they so of pouertie, doth vertue herein lie?
Can none but poore men godly liue, and vp to heauen flie?
When as the poore man hath as many lettes in liuing well,
As hath the richest man aliue, that others doe excell.
But pouertie they fowly scorne, and shamefully deride,
Aswell in Lordly fare, as in their pompe and passing pride.
And in their vowes and wicked life, they plainly doe expresse,
That neyther God nor man they wey, nor any vertuousnesse.
What if I coulde their sundrie sortes the better this to see,
Unknowne to men t'is infinit, and eke a vanitie.
So many sundrie sects there are, that differ onely heare
In rules, and ceremonies fonde, and wearing of their geare.
In this they all do iumpe agree, their Popishe trifles vaine,
And rules of him that first deuisde in order them to traine.
To set before the will of Christ and through their owne desartes,
They thinke to scape the pitte of hell, and all those painefull smartes.
But presently I will deuide them altogither heere,
Into two onely sortes, that so they plainely may appeere.
To such as riche and welthie are, and such as beggers bee,
Appoynted by their rules to begge, and by the Popes decree.
Those welthie are, whom long ago some mightie Princes handes,
Or Noble man hath graunted here, reuenues great, and landes,
Large fieldes, with medowes fayre, & townes, & parks, & purlues large,
With vineyardes great, and villages, and Castels strong of charge,
And Earledomes oftentimes for them did carefully prouide,
And gaue them Lordely liberties, and Dukedomes whole beside,
That throw their praiers & lewd desarts, they might their soules releue
And purge themselues of euery crime, that did their conscience greue.
That for these same these giftes were giuen, and this was all their care,
The grauntes of Dukes, and Princes great, at this day doe declare.
Perswaded were they that the blisse, and ioyes of heauen hie,
In merites of this Monkish sorte, and Popish powre did lye.
This madnesse long ago possest the worlde when as did sit,
Amidst the Church prowde Antichrist, and rulde and gouernde it.
What neede these Monkes such riches great? themselues to punish here
With fasting oft and penurie, and simple slender chere?
And to attaine humilitie, in minde and outwarde showe,
Still mourning (as they boast) the sinnes, that in the world doe flowe?
Far otherwise falles out the case, their Founders should haue knowne,
They punish here their flesh vntill with fatte they are ouergrowne,
Wherto their fained fastings tende, none hath more merrie minde,
Than haue these same, nor prowder shalt thou any people finde.
The pleasures of the worlde, they all did hunt and seeke alwaye,
For looke where any valleyes was, where goodly medowes laye,
Through which some pleasant Riuer ranne, or goodly streame did passe
That stoarde with diuers daintie fishe, and full of Creuis was,
Encompast rounde about with woodes, and fruitfull hilles beside,
Whereas they vineyardes great might haue, or store of corne prouide,
Here commonly they plaste themselues. What man so much doth raue,
As woulde in smokie Cities dwell, and may such pleasures haue?
Yet these they desart places calde, whereas in paines and strife,
These poore afflicted fathers purgde th'offences of their life.
Besides in houses fayre they might, with any Prince compare,
Whose loftye walles with largest motes, encompast alwayes ware
With parkes, and pleasaunt chases fayre, adioyning to the same,
Empalde and trenched rounde about, and stored well with game.
There standes the stately Towres aloft, and dredfull shot within,
Or deckt with curious furniture to feast and banquet in.
In euery place the Counduites runne, within continually,
And gardens here with pleasaunt herbes, and flowers furnisht ly.
With Cloysters square, and arbours that procure a pleasaunt shade.
In fine it seemes a paradice, such as th'almightie made,
Great heardes of cattell they possesse, and seruauntes many one,
And officers of high degree, attending them vpon.
Great store of pondes abrode they haue, that commonly they may,
Suffice to furnish out with fishe, their tables euery day,
Not farre remooued from their walles, their pleasaunt Orchardes bee,
Such as doe passe and farre surmount, all others in degree
Thus hunt they after worldly ioyes, and after pleasures fish
And haue obtainde ech sweete delight, that earthly men can wish.
Of sleepe they also haue their fill, aswell by day as night,
Yea in the day time are they wilde to sleepe and reast theyr spright.
Lest to much watching dry them vp, and palenesse staine their face,
And least their bodies doe decay, and lose their lustie grace.
But here a matter great they make, at midnight that they rise,
To mumble vp their Psalmes and prayers, with sencelesse eares & eyes
Not weying what a sort of men, that poore and needie be,
Doe laboure all the day long in the heate with miserie,
And in the night can take no rest, for children there that lye,
And fill their eares with wrawling all the night, and tedious crye.
Their bookes they nought regarde at all, yet learning still and schooles,
Are worthyly committed to these grosse and doltish fooles.
Unknowne to men t'is infinit, and eke a vanitie.
So many sundrie sects there are, that differ onely heare
In rules, and ceremonies fonde, and wearing of their geare.
In this they all do iumpe agree, their Popishe trifles vaine,
And rules of him that first deuisde in order them to traine.
To set before the will of Christ and through their owne desartes,
They thinke to scape the pitte of hell, and all those painefull smartes.
But presently I will deuide them altogither heere,
Into two onely sortes, that so they plainely may appeere.
To such as riche and welthie are, and such as beggers bee,
Appoynted by their rules to begge, and by the Popes decree.
21
Or Noble man hath graunted here, reuenues great, and landes,
Large fieldes, with medowes fayre, & townes, & parks, & purlues large,
With vineyardes great, and villages, and Castels strong of charge,
And Earledomes oftentimes for them did carefully prouide,
And gaue them Lordely liberties, and Dukedomes whole beside,
That throw their praiers & lewd desarts, they might their soules releue
And purge themselues of euery crime, that did their conscience greue.
That for these same these giftes were giuen, and this was all their care,
The grauntes of Dukes, and Princes great, at this day doe declare.
Perswaded were they that the blisse, and ioyes of heauen hie,
In merites of this Monkish sorte, and Popish powre did lye.
This madnesse long ago possest the worlde when as did sit,
Amidst the Church prowde Antichrist, and rulde and gouernde it.
What neede these Monkes such riches great? themselues to punish here
With fasting oft and penurie, and simple slender chere?
And to attaine humilitie, in minde and outwarde showe,
Still mourning (as they boast) the sinnes, that in the world doe flowe?
Far otherwise falles out the case, their Founders should haue knowne,
They punish here their flesh vntill with fatte they are ouergrowne,
Wherto their fained fastings tende, none hath more merrie minde,
Than haue these same, nor prowder shalt thou any people finde.
The pleasures of the worlde, they all did hunt and seeke alwaye,
For looke where any valleyes was, where goodly medowes laye,
Through which some pleasant Riuer ranne, or goodly streame did passe
That stoarde with diuers daintie fishe, and full of Creuis was,
Encompast rounde about with woodes, and fruitfull hilles beside,
Whereas they vineyardes great might haue, or store of corne prouide,
Here commonly they plaste themselues. What man so much doth raue,
As woulde in smokie Cities dwell, and may such pleasures haue?
Yet these they desart places calde, whereas in paines and strife,
These poore afflicted fathers purgde th'offences of their life.
Besides in houses fayre they might, with any Prince compare,
Whose loftye walles with largest motes, encompast alwayes ware
With parkes, and pleasaunt chases fayre, adioyning to the same,
Empalde and trenched rounde about, and stored well with game.
[21]
Or deckt with curious furniture to feast and banquet in.
In euery place the Counduites runne, within continually,
And gardens here with pleasaunt herbes, and flowers furnisht ly.
With Cloysters square, and arbours that procure a pleasaunt shade.
In fine it seemes a paradice, such as th'almightie made,
Great heardes of cattell they possesse, and seruauntes many one,
And officers of high degree, attending them vpon.
Great store of pondes abrode they haue, that commonly they may,
Suffice to furnish out with fishe, their tables euery day,
Not farre remooued from their walles, their pleasaunt Orchardes bee,
Such as doe passe and farre surmount, all others in degree
Thus hunt they after worldly ioyes, and after pleasures fish
And haue obtainde ech sweete delight, that earthly men can wish.
Of sleepe they also haue their fill, aswell by day as night,
Yea in the day time are they wilde to sleepe and reast theyr spright.
Lest to much watching dry them vp, and palenesse staine their face,
And least their bodies doe decay, and lose their lustie grace.
But here a matter great they make, at midnight that they rise,
To mumble vp their Psalmes and prayers, with sencelesse eares & eyes
Not weying what a sort of men, that poore and needie be,
Doe laboure all the day long in the heate with miserie,
And in the night can take no rest, for children there that lye,
And fill their eares with wrawling all the night, and tedious crye.
Their bookes they nought regarde at all, yet learning still and schooles,
Are worthyly committed to these grosse and doltish fooles.
The order of saint Benet and Cistercian company,
Haue euermore an Abbot great, who setting nothing by
The life and title of a Monke, their order doth detest,
And better likes the head to be, and Prince of all the rest.
And sure in pompe and loftie looke, he is not farre behinde
The worldly Prince, reseruing this, yet secret still in minde:
That farre beyonde them doth he go, in lecherous delight,
For maydens yong he doth deflowre, and spendeth all the night,
In wanton daunces playes and sportes, with quaffing and excesse,
And haunteth alwayes company, addict to ydlenesse.
A mad and lothsome sight it is, the shapes that disagree.
To ioyne in one, and knit togither things that diffring bee.
As if the heade of dogge or Bull vpon a sheepe did stande,
So ill agrees togither knit a Monke and Prince in hande.
And sure I muse and woonder much, the worlde coulde euer beare,
To see so foule a monster as this same mishaped heare.
But wonders alwayes likes the worlde, and nothing can be wrought,
So foolishly nor any thing, so wicked can be brought,
But that the worlde will it esteeme, and woonder for to see,
Wherefore let it enioye them still, and worship them for mee.
I to my matter will returne: this Abbot euermore,
With weapons feares his neighbours next, and battailes fierce & sore
He often giues, and doth reioyce, great tumultes still to see,
No lowly thing he doth desire, speake, doe, or yet decree.
But looke what that he takes in hande, he rageth at the same,
As Cacus breathing out the sparkes of fires and fiery flame.
What rule of Benet teacheth this? I surely thinke, bicause
That Benet did forbid his flocke by strayte and curious lawes,
That on the Bible none of them should reade, or scripture know,
Whence seede of heresie doth spring, and errors all doe grow.
Least they shoulde slouthfull be, or spende their life in ydlenesse,
Amid their loftie swelling state, and wonderfull excesse.
Their greedie handes and mindes they whole applide to worldly things,
Whereof they shortly had such skill, that they like Dukes and Kings,
Prouided lawes for common weales, and ciuill statutes made,
Lo, in this sort they shonde the world, and fled from worldly trade,
And gotte themselues to wildernesse, where onely they tooke paine,
To serue the Lorde continually, and heauen for to gaine.
But shauen crownes here needed not, nor greasie Cowles beside,
Since that the worlde did neuer want sufficient men to guide.
Their practises and all their pranckes, of their vnruly raine,
Their manors, vertues, and their life, in euery place are plaine.
All things are lawfull vnto them, and are dispenst withall,
So thou beleeuest not on Christ, nor on his name dost call.
Haue euermore an Abbot great, who setting nothing by
The life and title of a Monke, their order doth detest,
And better likes the head to be, and Prince of all the rest.
And sure in pompe and loftie looke, he is not farre behinde
The worldly Prince, reseruing this, yet secret still in minde:
That farre beyonde them doth he go, in lecherous delight,
For maydens yong he doth deflowre, and spendeth all the night,
In wanton daunces playes and sportes, with quaffing and excesse,
And haunteth alwayes company, addict to ydlenesse.
22
To ioyne in one, and knit togither things that diffring bee.
As if the heade of dogge or Bull vpon a sheepe did stande,
So ill agrees togither knit a Monke and Prince in hande.
And sure I muse and woonder much, the worlde coulde euer beare,
To see so foule a monster as this same mishaped heare.
But wonders alwayes likes the worlde, and nothing can be wrought,
So foolishly nor any thing, so wicked can be brought,
But that the worlde will it esteeme, and woonder for to see,
Wherefore let it enioye them still, and worship them for mee.
I to my matter will returne: this Abbot euermore,
With weapons feares his neighbours next, and battailes fierce & sore
He often giues, and doth reioyce, great tumultes still to see,
No lowly thing he doth desire, speake, doe, or yet decree.
But looke what that he takes in hande, he rageth at the same,
As Cacus breathing out the sparkes of fires and fiery flame.
What rule of Benet teacheth this? I surely thinke, bicause
That Benet did forbid his flocke by strayte and curious lawes,
That on the Bible none of them should reade, or scripture know,
Whence seede of heresie doth spring, and errors all doe grow.
Least they shoulde slouthfull be, or spende their life in ydlenesse,
Amid their loftie swelling state, and wonderfull excesse.
Their greedie handes and mindes they whole applide to worldly things,
Whereof they shortly had such skill, that they like Dukes and Kings,
Prouided lawes for common weales, and ciuill statutes made,
Lo, in this sort they shonde the world, and fled from worldly trade,
And gotte themselues to wildernesse, where onely they tooke paine,
To serue the Lorde continually, and heauen for to gaine.
But shauen crownes here needed not, nor greasie Cowles beside,
Since that the worlde did neuer want sufficient men to guide.
Their practises and all their pranckes, of their vnruly raine,
Their manors, vertues, and their life, in euery place are plaine.
All things are lawfull vnto them, and are dispenst withall,
So thou beleeuest not on Christ, nor on his name dost call.
But now the begging sort of sundrie names and orders vaine,
In townes and Cities alwayes dwell, as lyeth for their gaine.
Where first by begging they haue built, them sumptuous houses strōg,
Well furnished of euery thing, that thereto doth belong,
That thou wouldst meruaile how these beggers purses, emptie still,
Could in so few yeares builde such neastes, and get such things at will.
But with their often fasting still, they wrought this subtill sleight,
With dayly prayers, seruice long, and merites great of weight.
The newnesse of their sect confirmde, did stand them aye in stead,
Their iesture straunge, hypocrisie, and ducking with the head:
Their earnestnesse in teaching still, and deepe dissembling chere,
Their eloquence, and filed tongue, and grauitie seuere:
That men did thinke ech thing was well bestowed, and happily,
That giuen was vnto so good and holy company.
Besides their common merchandise, their frawde, and falshoode great,
Did helpe them well, they promised in heauen happie seat,
And parte of all their merites here, to such as willing were,
To helpe them here with any thing, their order to preferre.
This brought the fishe a pace to nette, this poyson bayted hooke,
Made giftes come in, begyilde a number, and most of them they tooke.
By this such buildings braue they made, in euery towne almost,
By this such goodly furniture they had in euery cost,
From this proceedes their princely fare, for fasters farre vnmeete:
They trusting to this marchandise, doe swarme in euery streete,
And house by house abroade they runne, with bolde and shamelesse face,
And begge, but chiefely in the towne doth stande their greatest grace.
No mariage is solemnized, nor great assembly had,
No feast is made in any place, but strayte these beggers mad
With Boxes stande about the borde, and impudently than,
They craue and aske, like lothsome flyes molesting euery man.
At supper none in quiet sittes, nor can their dinner take,
But in they come, and both their handes and eares they weery make.
When holy times of fasting fall, and people feared bee,
With bitter lawes and threatned sore, with sharpe and sowre decree,
Than they continually doe vaunt, of fasting and desartes,
And of their prayers that proceedes from hote and holy hartes.
Then rowling in comes all the gaines, of such as doe not fast,
Nor chaunge one whit their former life, nor sinfull vsage past.
These buy the measure great of all their merites euerychone,
Supposing that the Lorde aboue will neuer looke vpon
Their wickednesse, but fauour them, and all their faultes forgiue,
If that they send the Fryers wine, and store of saltfish giue:
Or feede them oft with daintie meates, or costly dinners make,
Such as the Priests of Mars were woont continually to take.
Besides in welthy villages, they finde a wondrous gaine,
Where cheese and flaxe, and rootes they get, and euery kinde of graine.
With porke, and puddings, souse and brawne, and bacon flitches great,
Which who denies is threatned with, Saint Antonies raging heat.
And more to powle the simple sorte, and to beguile withall,
They needles, pointes, and glasses giue, and other trifles small.
These things although vnhonest they, and lewde and filthie be,
Yet count they them for vertues great, and signes of sanctitie.
Such wickednesse the Papacie, doth euermore esteeme,
And makes of euery Deuill God, contrarily to seeme.
And Deuils eke of God they make, as euery foole may see,
In all their doctrine fayth and rytes, what euer they decree.
But yet aboue the reast I doe the wisest count those same,
That begging rounde about the worlde with tytle fayre and name,
Haue growne in little time to wealth, and treasures infinite,
Haue purchast vineyardes, landes, and rents, and houses fayre in sight.
With Graunges great, and pleasant Farmes, & droues of cattell store,
That now no neede they haue to begge, nor aske for any more.
Yea loth they are to haue the names of beggers in degree.
So abby lubber lyke they liue, and Lordes they called bee,
The earnest zeale of making warres vpon the Turkish sect,
And care of looking vnto those, whom sicknesse did infect,
Was fauorde first of Germans much, who made Collections great,
Whereby they well in euery place, might exercise this feate.
What woulde you more? all men to this with willing hartes did paye.
Now when the treasure gatherd was, the sicke neglected laye.
And no prouision did they make, nor any meanes inuent:
For to releeue th'afflicted sort, whome sickenesse did torment.
If warres were to be made vpon the Turkes at any time,
Their pillowes soft they list not leaue, nor slouthfull life resigne.
So did the rest whose names in verse, cannot be all expreast,
So hath this wretched kinde of men in little time encreast.
But worser now by much are those, who though they welthie bee,
And landes and riches great possesse, like Princes in degree.
Yet leaue they not their custome olde, to begge in euery place:
So sweete a thing doth begging seeme, and of so goodly grace.
There be such as their orders doth continually constraine,
To begge abrode: and such as still in pouertie remaine.
Who neyther landes nor liuing haue, of all the rest the wurst,
And such as are more troublesome, of euery man accurst.
With these the Pope hath much dispenst, when once he vnderstood,
They were for his commoditie, and for his purpose good,
By whome he might in euery Realme, be highly had in price,
And vtter all his wicked wares, and filthie marchandice:
And surely herein haue they seemde, full thankefull for to be,
As chiefe maintainers of his state, and princely dignitie.
For all his doctrine haue they learnde, and fayth at fingers endes,
And whatsoeuer likes the Pope, ech one of them defendes.
Nor for this kingdome sweete they any lyes refuse to faine,
And so they may the same aduaunce, no labour great nor paine.
By lande and seas abrode they roame, and here and there doe flye,
To howses great of noble men, and mightie Princes hye.
In euery place they suffred are to preache and teache about,
And Bishops none doth them forbid, nor person keepes them out,
Whereby they may their kingdome much, enlarge and amplifie,
According to their earnest zeale, and dayly industrie.
For why they see that vnderneath their shaddow they are fed.
And that their state by meanes of them, is well established.
They see while as the Papacie, doth spring and florish here,
Their order euer shall encrease, and happie life appere.
And contrarie all things decaye, and staruing strayte at hande,
If that his holynesse shoulde slippe, or not vprightly stande.
Therefore both for themselues and for the Pope with toth and nayle,
They toyle & moyle least that his state, by talke of tongue should quaile.
Therefore the inquisition is, to them alone assinde,
For to inquire of herisies, in euery case and kinde.
Among the which the greatest and of daunger most of all,
Are those which presently doe seeme, for to procure their fall
If any man deny the Pope, for to be supreme hed,
And chiefest guider of the church, by Christ established:
If any say that man cannot by worke deserue the skies,
And euerlasting life, but that in Christ it onely lyes,
Or if that any man affirme, the polshorne sorte to be,
A hurtefull kinde of weede and plant of no commoditie,
That onely doth deceyue the worlde, with toyes, and trifles vaine,
And manifest hypocrisie, of troth the enmies plaine:
Lyke dogges in raging moode on such, with bloudie mouth they fall,
And vexe and persecute them still, in bandes and prison thrall.
And if at length they will not turne, they cast them into flame,
The rabble all of Popishe rout reioysing at the same.
And whom they cannot handle thus, nor deale so ill withall,
At them with hatefull tongue they hisse, and currishly doe bawle,
And with vnlearned foolish bookes, and slaundrous doe they bite,
And thinke to make them hatefull in the common peoples site.
These men if that they stroue for Christ, they would not begge at all,
Ne shoulde such ignoraunce of truth, vpon the people fall.
But with the Popish kingdome truth can neuer well agree,
Of falshoode it is framde, and without falshoode cannot bee.
Wherefore it deadly hates all those, that mutter here of Christ,
And seeke by truth to please the Lorde, and to content the highest.
And vseth these as instrumentes, the knowledge to oppresse
Of Christ: and for to driue away all perfite godlynesse.
And not alonely in this case, this kingdome they mainetaine:
No Primate, Prince, nor king there is, but one of this same traine.
He to his ghostly father takes, to whome he doth confesse,
The secrets of his heart, and all his sinnes and wickednesse.
The which for sundrie endes is to this kingdome profitable,
For by this practise, and these meanes, he euermore is able
To traine the Primates as him list, but chiefely to defende,
The Popish sea, and to resist, all such as doe contende.
Who if they stackering chaunce to stande, and wauering doubtfully:
Then with their sinnes they feare them sore, and pardon doe denie.
Then which no thing more dreadfull is, nor hurtfull to the blinde,
By this besides hys holynesse doth vnderstande the minde
And purposes of euery Prince, that hereby speedily
He may preuent eche great mishap, if ought should runne awry.
Besides if that the Pope would faine, haue money in some place,
Or any lusty Cardinall, or Bishops Lordly grace:
That may not well redeeme his Pall, the pardons out be sent,
And these be they that chiefely serue, to further his intent.
Nor in the worlde there lyueth not, a kinde of men more meete,
To worke deceytes and to bring in, both Golde and siluer sweete.
Lyke Bulles they roare and voyde of shame, they vtter falshoods vaine,
And boldly striue, and Sathan vp, they lift to Starres againe.
Of Flyes they able are to make, great Eliphants in sight,
And popishe state for to aduaunce, aboue the heauens bright.
I thinke there are no kinde of men, that profitabler bee,
Or more in vse, for to aduaunce the Popes authoritee.
By them the common people haue, beleeude such shamefull lies,
And haue bestowde their goodes, and all their wealth on vanities:
Supposing heauen for to buie, and holy mens desartes,
And euerlasting life to haue, allotted to their partes.
The others well enricht with spoyle, doe laugh and get them hence,
And to their Lordes with praise doe bring, their Caskets stuft wt pence.
I here declare not all their deedes, nor their deuises lewde:
What shamelesse shiftes they here haue made, what filthye lyfe they shewde:
What fowle example here they gaue, of life abhominable,
So that it euen did offend themselues the Roomish rable.
That nothing (may be sayde) there is, but Cowles dare take in hande:
If in their fansie once it come, or with their minde doe stande.
I rowe with light and slender Ores, and not with raging winde,
Nor for to clense the durty sincke, of Augæ is my minde.
Yet here thou hast a little shewe, of all this Empire great,
And seest the members chiefe that doe, belong to Popishe seat.
Whereby thou wiselye mayest discerne, the others all that bee,
For both in lyfe and fayth they all, doe wonderously agree.
So that I am sure thou shalt not finde amongst them any thing,
That doth beseeme the flocke of Christ, or may to vertue bring.
But strong illusions and deceytes, and euery cursed kinde
Of couetousnesse, with carelesse life, and blouddy beastly minde.
And pompe, and pleasures great with pride, and superstitions vaine,
And fonde attire, with ydlenesse, the Princesse of their reigne.
That where the worde of God doth reigne, and Christ is cleerely taught,
These people dayly doe decrease, and shortly come to naught.
And both the beggers, and the riche, are forced hence to flie,
As pestilences to the fayth, and springes of Heresie.
As slouthfull paunches great, vnto the earth a thriftlesse lode,
Whom long agone did Italie sende out in coastes abrode.
And spewde them into Germanie, as mother of all yll,
And such hir madnesse is, that she newe sectes inuenteth still.
For lately sent she certaine out, of Iesus bearing name,
Calde for belike of lustie Lordes, that lykde the popish game.
That with the name of such renowme, they easily might deceaue,
The rude and simple people, that are soone procurde to cleaue.
As though they sought the honor here of Christ, and worship best
The impes of Sathan, are they sure, no better than the rest.
For all agaynst our Sauiour Christ, are sworne assuredly,
Both Monkes and shauen Sophisters, the supersticious Frie.
For fauour and good will, that they doe beare vnto the Pope,
So that of any goodnesse here, in them there is no hope.
These here and there runne vp and downe, with double diligence,
To benifite the Deuill, and the Pope: and with pretence
For to suppresse the Gospell here of Christ, and eke his name,
That lately drawne from darknesse great, abrode doth freshly flame.
But Christ shall shortly them suppresse, with all the rifraffe here,
His enimies with Maiestie, when as he shall appeere.
In townes and Cities alwayes dwell, as lyeth for their gaine.
[22]
Well furnished of euery thing, that thereto doth belong,
That thou wouldst meruaile how these beggers purses, emptie still,
Could in so few yeares builde such neastes, and get such things at will.
But with their often fasting still, they wrought this subtill sleight,
With dayly prayers, seruice long, and merites great of weight.
The newnesse of their sect confirmde, did stand them aye in stead,
Their iesture straunge, hypocrisie, and ducking with the head:
Their earnestnesse in teaching still, and deepe dissembling chere,
Their eloquence, and filed tongue, and grauitie seuere:
That men did thinke ech thing was well bestowed, and happily,
That giuen was vnto so good and holy company.
Besides their common merchandise, their frawde, and falshoode great,
Did helpe them well, they promised in heauen happie seat,
And parte of all their merites here, to such as willing were,
To helpe them here with any thing, their order to preferre.
This brought the fishe a pace to nette, this poyson bayted hooke,
Made giftes come in, begyilde a number, and most of them they tooke.
By this such buildings braue they made, in euery towne almost,
By this such goodly furniture they had in euery cost,
From this proceedes their princely fare, for fasters farre vnmeete:
They trusting to this marchandise, doe swarme in euery streete,
And house by house abroade they runne, with bolde and shamelesse face,
And begge, but chiefely in the towne doth stande their greatest grace.
No mariage is solemnized, nor great assembly had,
No feast is made in any place, but strayte these beggers mad
With Boxes stande about the borde, and impudently than,
They craue and aske, like lothsome flyes molesting euery man.
At supper none in quiet sittes, nor can their dinner take,
But in they come, and both their handes and eares they weery make.
When holy times of fasting fall, and people feared bee,
With bitter lawes and threatned sore, with sharpe and sowre decree,
Than they continually doe vaunt, of fasting and desartes,
And of their prayers that proceedes from hote and holy hartes.
Then rowling in comes all the gaines, of such as doe not fast,
Nor chaunge one whit their former life, nor sinfull vsage past.
23
Supposing that the Lorde aboue will neuer looke vpon
Their wickednesse, but fauour them, and all their faultes forgiue,
If that they send the Fryers wine, and store of saltfish giue:
Or feede them oft with daintie meates, or costly dinners make,
Such as the Priests of Mars were woont continually to take.
Besides in welthy villages, they finde a wondrous gaine,
Where cheese and flaxe, and rootes they get, and euery kinde of graine.
With porke, and puddings, souse and brawne, and bacon flitches great,
Which who denies is threatned with, Saint Antonies raging heat.
And more to powle the simple sorte, and to beguile withall,
They needles, pointes, and glasses giue, and other trifles small.
These things although vnhonest they, and lewde and filthie be,
Yet count they them for vertues great, and signes of sanctitie.
Such wickednesse the Papacie, doth euermore esteeme,
And makes of euery Deuill God, contrarily to seeme.
And Deuils eke of God they make, as euery foole may see,
In all their doctrine fayth and rytes, what euer they decree.
But yet aboue the reast I doe the wisest count those same,
That begging rounde about the worlde with tytle fayre and name,
Haue growne in little time to wealth, and treasures infinite,
Haue purchast vineyardes, landes, and rents, and houses fayre in sight.
With Graunges great, and pleasant Farmes, & droues of cattell store,
That now no neede they haue to begge, nor aske for any more.
Yea loth they are to haue the names of beggers in degree.
So abby lubber lyke they liue, and Lordes they called bee,
The earnest zeale of making warres vpon the Turkish sect,
And care of looking vnto those, whom sicknesse did infect,
Was fauorde first of Germans much, who made Collections great,
Whereby they well in euery place, might exercise this feate.
What woulde you more? all men to this with willing hartes did paye.
Now when the treasure gatherd was, the sicke neglected laye.
And no prouision did they make, nor any meanes inuent:
For to releeue th'afflicted sort, whome sickenesse did torment.
If warres were to be made vpon the Turkes at any time,
Their pillowes soft they list not leaue, nor slouthfull life resigne.
[23]
So hath this wretched kinde of men in little time encreast.
But worser now by much are those, who though they welthie bee,
And landes and riches great possesse, like Princes in degree.
Yet leaue they not their custome olde, to begge in euery place:
So sweete a thing doth begging seeme, and of so goodly grace.
There be such as their orders doth continually constraine,
To begge abrode: and such as still in pouertie remaine.
Who neyther landes nor liuing haue, of all the rest the wurst,
And such as are more troublesome, of euery man accurst.
With these the Pope hath much dispenst, when once he vnderstood,
They were for his commoditie, and for his purpose good,
By whome he might in euery Realme, be highly had in price,
And vtter all his wicked wares, and filthie marchandice:
And surely herein haue they seemde, full thankefull for to be,
As chiefe maintainers of his state, and princely dignitie.
For all his doctrine haue they learnde, and fayth at fingers endes,
And whatsoeuer likes the Pope, ech one of them defendes.
Nor for this kingdome sweete they any lyes refuse to faine,
And so they may the same aduaunce, no labour great nor paine.
By lande and seas abrode they roame, and here and there doe flye,
To howses great of noble men, and mightie Princes hye.
In euery place they suffred are to preache and teache about,
And Bishops none doth them forbid, nor person keepes them out,
Whereby they may their kingdome much, enlarge and amplifie,
According to their earnest zeale, and dayly industrie.
For why they see that vnderneath their shaddow they are fed.
And that their state by meanes of them, is well established.
They see while as the Papacie, doth spring and florish here,
Their order euer shall encrease, and happie life appere.
And contrarie all things decaye, and staruing strayte at hande,
If that his holynesse shoulde slippe, or not vprightly stande.
Therefore both for themselues and for the Pope with toth and nayle,
They toyle & moyle least that his state, by talke of tongue should quaile.
Therefore the inquisition is, to them alone assinde,
For to inquire of herisies, in euery case and kinde.
24
Are those which presently doe seeme, for to procure their fall
If any man deny the Pope, for to be supreme hed,
And chiefest guider of the church, by Christ established:
If any say that man cannot by worke deserue the skies,
And euerlasting life, but that in Christ it onely lyes,
Or if that any man affirme, the polshorne sorte to be,
A hurtefull kinde of weede and plant of no commoditie,
That onely doth deceyue the worlde, with toyes, and trifles vaine,
And manifest hypocrisie, of troth the enmies plaine:
Lyke dogges in raging moode on such, with bloudie mouth they fall,
And vexe and persecute them still, in bandes and prison thrall.
And if at length they will not turne, they cast them into flame,
The rabble all of Popishe rout reioysing at the same.
And whom they cannot handle thus, nor deale so ill withall,
At them with hatefull tongue they hisse, and currishly doe bawle,
And with vnlearned foolish bookes, and slaundrous doe they bite,
And thinke to make them hatefull in the common peoples site.
These men if that they stroue for Christ, they would not begge at all,
Ne shoulde such ignoraunce of truth, vpon the people fall.
But with the Popish kingdome truth can neuer well agree,
Of falshoode it is framde, and without falshoode cannot bee.
Wherefore it deadly hates all those, that mutter here of Christ,
And seeke by truth to please the Lorde, and to content the highest.
And vseth these as instrumentes, the knowledge to oppresse
Of Christ: and for to driue away all perfite godlynesse.
And not alonely in this case, this kingdome they mainetaine:
No Primate, Prince, nor king there is, but one of this same traine.
He to his ghostly father takes, to whome he doth confesse,
The secrets of his heart, and all his sinnes and wickednesse.
The which for sundrie endes is to this kingdome profitable,
For by this practise, and these meanes, he euermore is able
To traine the Primates as him list, but chiefely to defende,
The Popish sea, and to resist, all such as doe contende.
Who if they stackering chaunce to stande, and wauering doubtfully:
Then with their sinnes they feare them sore, and pardon doe denie.
[24]
By this besides hys holynesse doth vnderstande the minde
And purposes of euery Prince, that hereby speedily
He may preuent eche great mishap, if ought should runne awry.
Besides if that the Pope would faine, haue money in some place,
Or any lusty Cardinall, or Bishops Lordly grace:
That may not well redeeme his Pall, the pardons out be sent,
And these be they that chiefely serue, to further his intent.
Nor in the worlde there lyueth not, a kinde of men more meete,
To worke deceytes and to bring in, both Golde and siluer sweete.
Lyke Bulles they roare and voyde of shame, they vtter falshoods vaine,
And boldly striue, and Sathan vp, they lift to Starres againe.
Of Flyes they able are to make, great Eliphants in sight,
And popishe state for to aduaunce, aboue the heauens bright.
I thinke there are no kinde of men, that profitabler bee,
Or more in vse, for to aduaunce the Popes authoritee.
By them the common people haue, beleeude such shamefull lies,
And haue bestowde their goodes, and all their wealth on vanities:
Supposing heauen for to buie, and holy mens desartes,
And euerlasting life to haue, allotted to their partes.
The others well enricht with spoyle, doe laugh and get them hence,
And to their Lordes with praise doe bring, their Caskets stuft wt pence.
I here declare not all their deedes, nor their deuises lewde:
What shamelesse shiftes they here haue made, what filthye lyfe they shewde:
What fowle example here they gaue, of life abhominable,
So that it euen did offend themselues the Roomish rable.
That nothing (may be sayde) there is, but Cowles dare take in hande:
If in their fansie once it come, or with their minde doe stande.
I rowe with light and slender Ores, and not with raging winde,
Nor for to clense the durty sincke, of Augæ is my minde.
Yet here thou hast a little shewe, of all this Empire great,
And seest the members chiefe that doe, belong to Popishe seat.
Whereby thou wiselye mayest discerne, the others all that bee,
For both in lyfe and fayth they all, doe wonderously agree.
So that I am sure thou shalt not finde amongst them any thing,
That doth beseeme the flocke of Christ, or may to vertue bring.
25
Of couetousnesse, with carelesse life, and blouddy beastly minde.
And pompe, and pleasures great with pride, and superstitions vaine,
And fonde attire, with ydlenesse, the Princesse of their reigne.
That where the worde of God doth reigne, and Christ is cleerely taught,
These people dayly doe decrease, and shortly come to naught.
And both the beggers, and the riche, are forced hence to flie,
As pestilences to the fayth, and springes of Heresie.
As slouthfull paunches great, vnto the earth a thriftlesse lode,
Whom long agone did Italie sende out in coastes abrode.
And spewde them into Germanie, as mother of all yll,
And such hir madnesse is, that she newe sectes inuenteth still.
For lately sent she certaine out, of Iesus bearing name,
Calde for belike of lustie Lordes, that lykde the popish game.
That with the name of such renowme, they easily might deceaue,
The rude and simple people, that are soone procurde to cleaue.
As though they sought the honor here of Christ, and worship best
The impes of Sathan, are they sure, no better than the rest.
For all agaynst our Sauiour Christ, are sworne assuredly,
Both Monkes and shauen Sophisters, the supersticious Frie.
For fauour and good will, that they doe beare vnto the Pope,
So that of any goodnesse here, in them there is no hope.
These here and there runne vp and downe, with double diligence,
To benifite the Deuill, and the Pope: and with pretence
For to suppresse the Gospell here of Christ, and eke his name,
That lately drawne from darknesse great, abrode doth freshly flame.
But Christ shall shortly them suppresse, with all the rifraffe here,
His enimies with Maiestie, when as he shall appeere.
Nowe as they something speciall haue, so haue they eke againe,
A number that are common all among this greasie traine.
By which they couet to be knowne, and others to excell,
With Heathnish ambition, wherewith as yet they swell.
From which they neyther can be drawne, by scorne of people made,
Nor any seemelynesse of state, nor comelinesse of trade.
And first their crownes are shauen all as longeth to their gree,
And looke as more religious and holier they bee,
So broder doe they shaue their crownes, almost vnto their eares,
That scarce an ynchebrode hoope of heare, about their pate appeares.
This fansie fonde no Iewes them taught, nor yet is published:
What foolish people in the worlde woulde thus deforme their hed,
And vnconstrainde, the beautie spoyle, that comes of nature so:
Nor thinke it faire with shauen sconce, amongst th'unshaude to go.
Sure no man euer sawe the founders of our fayth so shorne,
No such thing they commaunded here, so full of shame and scorne.
The slouthfull sort long after them, found out this foolish guise,
And ydlenesse, as all the rest, this mischiefe did deuise.
But yet I maruell much, that they are not ashamde hereat,
And how they dare in companie, put of their cap or hat.
But hie and holy mysteries they say are signifide,
And thus they seeke a filthie thing with honest cloke to hide.
Themselues they count as kings to be, of passing great renowne,
And thus to shewe their dignitie, they weare a shauen crowne.
What dreames will not these doltes deuise, that dare in open sight,
Such things affirme? but still to mocke the world they had delight.
A number that are common all among this greasie traine.
By which they couet to be knowne, and others to excell,
With Heathnish ambition, wherewith as yet they swell.
From which they neyther can be drawne, by scorne of people made,
Nor any seemelynesse of state, nor comelinesse of trade.
And first their crownes are shauen all as longeth to their gree,
And looke as more religious and holier they bee,
[25]
That scarce an ynchebrode hoope of heare, about their pate appeares.
This fansie fonde no Iewes them taught, nor yet is published:
What foolish people in the worlde woulde thus deforme their hed,
And vnconstrainde, the beautie spoyle, that comes of nature so:
Nor thinke it faire with shauen sconce, amongst th'unshaude to go.
Sure no man euer sawe the founders of our fayth so shorne,
No such thing they commaunded here, so full of shame and scorne.
The slouthfull sort long after them, found out this foolish guise,
And ydlenesse, as all the rest, this mischiefe did deuise.
But yet I maruell much, that they are not ashamde hereat,
And how they dare in companie, put of their cap or hat.
But hie and holy mysteries they say are signifide,
And thus they seeke a filthie thing with honest cloke to hide.
Themselues they count as kings to be, of passing great renowne,
And thus to shewe their dignitie, they weare a shauen crowne.
What dreames will not these doltes deuise, that dare in open sight,
Such things affirme? but still to mocke the world they had delight.
They also all annoynted are, euen from the Parson small,
And poorest Priest, vnto the best that rules and gouernes all.
Obseruing still the Iewish lawe and rytes determined,
That by the Testament of Christ are quite abolished.
But all things that they did, were then commaunded to be done:
As figures for to testifie that Christ should shortly come.
These vse their owne aucthoritie, as pleaseth best their minde.
As if that Christ were not yet come, or chiefest priest assignde.
Thus doe they all annoynt themselues, and all their companie,
Both when they take their Christendome, and at the tyme they die
Annoynted are the Churches walles, and aultars oyled lye,
And eke the brasen Belles that bray aloft in steeple hye.
They also Princes doe annoynt, when that they crowned are,
And Moyses people plaine they be, and yet from Moyses farre.
Without commaundement of God, or Christes commission plaine,
In euery thing they follow still the fansies of their braine.
Which afterwardes reputed are for holy things and great,
Whereby in estimation more may grow the popish seat.
And poorest Priest, vnto the best that rules and gouernes all.
Obseruing still the Iewish lawe and rytes determined,
That by the Testament of Christ are quite abolished.
But all things that they did, were then commaunded to be done:
As figures for to testifie that Christ should shortly come.
These vse their owne aucthoritie, as pleaseth best their minde.
As if that Christ were not yet come, or chiefest priest assignde.
Thus doe they all annoynt themselues, and all their companie,
Both when they take their Christendome, and at the tyme they die
Annoynted are the Churches walles, and aultars oyled lye,
And eke the brasen Belles that bray aloft in steeple hye.
They also Princes doe annoynt, when that they crowned are,
And Moyses people plaine they be, and yet from Moyses farre.
Without commaundement of God, or Christes commission plaine,
In euery thing they follow still the fansies of their braine.
Which afterwardes reputed are for holy things and great,
Whereby in estimation more may grow the popish seat.
26
Besides Egiptian like they all in Surplesse white do go,
Or like the Iewish Priestes, that were by law commaunded so
To weare a linnen Ephod on, so doe they alwayes weare,
A linnen vesture wondrous white, and pleated here and there.
Without the which, they neuer doe into the Pulpet come,
Nor seruice say, nor any thing that in the Church is done.
The same also they doe commaunde the Parish Clarkes to weare,
And euery scholemaister must be apparelde with this geare.
And euery scholler yong, that first doth enter into scholes:
Thus are the people dolted still, and fooles are made of fooles.
For whereto serues the Surplesse here? it neyther keepes out colde,
Nor hath th'apostles warrant sure, nor Christes with it to holde.
Nor worne hath any comelinesse, but rather doth disguise:
As if a lay man clad therewith, before the peoples eyes
Should trauaile by the way, he should be scornde or beaten yll,
Or for a mad man bound in Chaynes, and broken of his wyll.
But here I muse that Monkes doe not, this linnen garment trie,
But this I take to be the cause, that Monkes sufficientlie
Are laught at for their fonde array, and fowle ynough they bee,
Whereby they from the common sort doe aptly disagree.
Or that their clothes more holy are, than any others worne,
And blacke is meeter farre than white, for such as seeme to morne.
In garments long they also vse apparelled to go,
And beardlesse all to women chaungde, the Pope commaundeth so.
Or like the Iewish Priestes, that were by law commaunded so
To weare a linnen Ephod on, so doe they alwayes weare,
A linnen vesture wondrous white, and pleated here and there.
Without the which, they neuer doe into the Pulpet come,
Nor seruice say, nor any thing that in the Church is done.
The same also they doe commaunde the Parish Clarkes to weare,
And euery scholemaister must be apparelde with this geare.
And euery scholler yong, that first doth enter into scholes:
Thus are the people dolted still, and fooles are made of fooles.
For whereto serues the Surplesse here? it neyther keepes out colde,
Nor hath th'apostles warrant sure, nor Christes with it to holde.
Nor worne hath any comelinesse, but rather doth disguise:
As if a lay man clad therewith, before the peoples eyes
Should trauaile by the way, he should be scornde or beaten yll,
Or for a mad man bound in Chaynes, and broken of his wyll.
But here I muse that Monkes doe not, this linnen garment trie,
But this I take to be the cause, that Monkes sufficientlie
Are laught at for their fonde array, and fowle ynough they bee,
Whereby they from the common sort doe aptly disagree.
Or that their clothes more holy are, than any others worne,
And blacke is meeter farre than white, for such as seeme to morne.
In garments long they also vse apparelled to go,
And beardlesse all to women chaungde, the Pope commaundeth so.
With burdens of the common wealth, they are not toucht beside,
For Princes long ago for them, did in this case prouide.
They pay no tribute nor no taske, nor any penalties,
Nor troubled are with any toyles, or common miseries.
They subiect onely are vnto the Pope, and to his lawe,
And as for ciuill or common lawes, they wey them not a strawe,
Except they on their side do make, and stand them well in stede,
Whereby they may attaine the thing that they determined.
They freely liue and counted are the holyest men that bee,
Nor good it is to harme them here, in worde or any gree,
If any of them by deadly wound do happen to be slaine,
O Lorde howe great a crime it is, and what a losse againe?
Both Masse and Mattens then do ceasse, and Church doores fast are shut
And song and Organs layde aside, and Belles to silence put.
Great mourning made till suffred haue the gracelesse murderer,
So much they way themselues, and of reuengement carefull are.
But if he happen for to scape, and by that meanes doe liue,
They smite him downe with dreadfull cursse, and to the deuill him giue.
And binde his soule in fearefull bandes, secluded quite from blisse,
And none (except the Pope alone) can him absolue from this.
Thus haue they brought men in such feare, yt they themselues alwayes,
May boldly quarell first begin, and brawling bloudy frayes.
If they themselues do kill a man, the matter is but small,
And may be easily ouerpast, and safely dealt withall.
The Iudge dare touch no shauen crowne, nor giue them punishment,
What crime soeuer they commit, or mischiefe doe inuent.
First are they to their Bishop sent, and after certaine dayes,
To Rome vntill forgetfulnesse the enmies rage allayes.
Then of their murder chearly quit, they homewarde boldly go,
Not fearing lawes of any Realme, nor forcing any fo.
The yong sir Iohn but newly shorne, that lately orders tooke,
Doth vaunt to scape the Iudges handes, and from the hangmans hooke.
And not in vaine: for vnto them that thus annoynted bee,
Aboue the rest is graunted sure, a wondrous libertee
They may doe whatsoeuer they list, and what they will inuent,
Such things as neyther countriman, nor straunger dare attempt,
For ciuill lawes they doe not feare, nor any penaltie,
Their Bishop is their gentle Iudge, and keepes them tenderly.
Great volumes have they writ, that of these liberties entreat,
And tearme them Cannon lawes, vnder whose shadowes wide & great
They safely route, and pleasauntly doe take their quiet rest,
And voyde of daunger euery where, do what them lyketh best.
This euery Emprour is constraynde, for to confirme before
He take his Crowne: and sworne for the defende them euermore.
And is not this a happie kind of people? such a one,
As like to them in all the worlde, there liueth others none.
For Princes long ago for them, did in this case prouide.
They pay no tribute nor no taske, nor any penalties,
Nor troubled are with any toyles, or common miseries.
They subiect onely are vnto the Pope, and to his lawe,
And as for ciuill or common lawes, they wey them not a strawe,
Except they on their side do make, and stand them well in stede,
Whereby they may attaine the thing that they determined.
They freely liue and counted are the holyest men that bee,
Nor good it is to harme them here, in worde or any gree,
If any of them by deadly wound do happen to be slaine,
O Lorde howe great a crime it is, and what a losse againe?
[26]
And song and Organs layde aside, and Belles to silence put.
Great mourning made till suffred haue the gracelesse murderer,
So much they way themselues, and of reuengement carefull are.
But if he happen for to scape, and by that meanes doe liue,
They smite him downe with dreadfull cursse, and to the deuill him giue.
And binde his soule in fearefull bandes, secluded quite from blisse,
And none (except the Pope alone) can him absolue from this.
Thus haue they brought men in such feare, yt they themselues alwayes,
May boldly quarell first begin, and brawling bloudy frayes.
If they themselues do kill a man, the matter is but small,
And may be easily ouerpast, and safely dealt withall.
The Iudge dare touch no shauen crowne, nor giue them punishment,
What crime soeuer they commit, or mischiefe doe inuent.
First are they to their Bishop sent, and after certaine dayes,
To Rome vntill forgetfulnesse the enmies rage allayes.
Then of their murder chearly quit, they homewarde boldly go,
Not fearing lawes of any Realme, nor forcing any fo.
The yong sir Iohn but newly shorne, that lately orders tooke,
Doth vaunt to scape the Iudges handes, and from the hangmans hooke.
And not in vaine: for vnto them that thus annoynted bee,
Aboue the rest is graunted sure, a wondrous libertee
They may doe whatsoeuer they list, and what they will inuent,
Such things as neyther countriman, nor straunger dare attempt,
For ciuill lawes they doe not feare, nor any penaltie,
Their Bishop is their gentle Iudge, and keepes them tenderly.
Great volumes have they writ, that of these liberties entreat,
And tearme them Cannon lawes, vnder whose shadowes wide & great
They safely route, and pleasauntly doe take their quiet rest,
And voyde of daunger euery where, do what them lyketh best.
This euery Emprour is constraynde, for to confirme before
He take his Crowne: and sworne for the defende them euermore.
And is not this a happie kind of people? such a one,
As like to them in all the worlde, there liueth others none.
Moreouer all of mariage shunne the sacred state as yll,
The Pope commaunding them: against Gods heauenly word & wyll.
For Paule being taught the secretes of the skies: determined,
Whereby such heate might be aswagde, and whoordome banished,
That euery man should haue his wife, and women husbandes all,
Permitting onely single life, to those whom God did call,
And by his speciall gift exempt, from common lawe and state.
But whether popish Priestes are here exempt, let him that late
Came from the newe found Ilandes doubt, for here with vs t'is rife,
And knowne as well to yong as olde, the chastnesse of their life.
Howe yll they can themselues refrayne, and eke howe euery where,
Nothing can be in safetie kept, from their vnruly gere.
For eyther with mens wiues they lye, or else at home they keepe.
Their harlots all at libertie, with whom they safely sleepe.
Or haue some in their neighbors house, or while abrode they rome,
Take tag and rag as comes to hande, as easily as at home.
That lust may haue hir full delight, thus fill they euery place,
Whersoeuer they come with Bastards, and with children void of grace.
No lay man hath this priuilege, nor lustie libertie.
And surely well, they are compeld to liue in honestie:
And vse the vndefiled bed, as God doth plainely will.
Thus onely liue in filthinesse the popishe members still,
And onely graunted are to them, their whoores at libertie,
And euery other kinde of vice, and vile iniquitie.
Which all their sect doth well allow, and countes them commendable,
And better lyke them with this life, and deedes abhominable:
Then if they chaunged from this trade, and came to better life,
And follow Gods commaundements, in taking of a wife.
Yea such they cruelly doe hate, and slaunder wickedly,
With hatefull wordes of great reproch, and spitefull infamie.
And if they can depriue them of their liuing and their grace,
And driue them poore and naked out, into some forraine place.
That not ynough thou canst not muse, to see their crooked minde,
And iudgement all inragde, whereby agaynst both rule and kinde
Of nature, and agaynst the iust precepts of reasons lore,
And all the common ordnaunces, that haue beene made therefore.
And eke agaynst the customes of all Nations that we know,
They doe commend adulterous life, aud mariage ouerthrow.
If some there be that alwayes prayse, and like their lothsome trade,
Why should they not attempt whatsoeuer their lust doth thē perswade?
Thus in their filthie liues they doe continue to the ende,
And alter not, nor any seekes their doings to amende.
They had rather all be torne and rent, than leaue their woonted guise,
The Bishop also winckes for gaine, nor hope of helpe he spies.
The Pope commaunding them: against Gods heauenly word & wyll.
27
Whereby such heate might be aswagde, and whoordome banished,
That euery man should haue his wife, and women husbandes all,
Permitting onely single life, to those whom God did call,
And by his speciall gift exempt, from common lawe and state.
But whether popish Priestes are here exempt, let him that late
Came from the newe found Ilandes doubt, for here with vs t'is rife,
And knowne as well to yong as olde, the chastnesse of their life.
Howe yll they can themselues refrayne, and eke howe euery where,
Nothing can be in safetie kept, from their vnruly gere.
For eyther with mens wiues they lye, or else at home they keepe.
Their harlots all at libertie, with whom they safely sleepe.
Or haue some in their neighbors house, or while abrode they rome,
Take tag and rag as comes to hande, as easily as at home.
That lust may haue hir full delight, thus fill they euery place,
Whersoeuer they come with Bastards, and with children void of grace.
No lay man hath this priuilege, nor lustie libertie.
And surely well, they are compeld to liue in honestie:
And vse the vndefiled bed, as God doth plainely will.
Thus onely liue in filthinesse the popishe members still,
And onely graunted are to them, their whoores at libertie,
And euery other kinde of vice, and vile iniquitie.
Which all their sect doth well allow, and countes them commendable,
And better lyke them with this life, and deedes abhominable:
Then if they chaunged from this trade, and came to better life,
And follow Gods commaundements, in taking of a wife.
Yea such they cruelly doe hate, and slaunder wickedly,
With hatefull wordes of great reproch, and spitefull infamie.
And if they can depriue them of their liuing and their grace,
And driue them poore and naked out, into some forraine place.
That not ynough thou canst not muse, to see their crooked minde,
And iudgement all inragde, whereby agaynst both rule and kinde
Of nature, and agaynst the iust precepts of reasons lore,
And all the common ordnaunces, that haue beene made therefore.
And eke agaynst the customes of all Nations that we know,
They doe commend adulterous life, aud mariage ouerthrow.
[27]
Why should they not attempt whatsoeuer their lust doth thē perswade?
Thus in their filthie liues they doe continue to the ende,
And alter not, nor any seekes their doings to amende.
They had rather all be torne and rent, than leaue their woonted guise,
The Bishop also winckes for gaine, nor hope of helpe he spies.
And more besides is Auarice, a sicknesse generall,
Beginning first at head: and so dispersed through them all.
They are themselues for to be solde, whosoeuer is bent to buy,
And all things that they haue besides, to sale doth open lye.
Giue money thou, and straight the Gates of heauen open bee.
And eke as many soules drawne out of hell as pleaseth thee.
Giue money, and from all thy faultes and sinnes thou shalt be free,
And all made well, and with their Bull it shall confirmed bee.
Giue money, and for thine estate they pray continuallye,
And fast, till as all ouergrowne in fatte they wallowing lye.
Giue money, and their merites great, to thee they streight will sell,
So that thou needest take no care at all for liuing well.
Giue money, and they giue thee leaue to marry at thy will
In times unlawfull, and to hop about with Iacke and Gill.
Giue money, and they licence giue, both egges and fleshe to eate,
As well on frydayes as in Lent, and euery kinde of meate.
Giue money, and thy childe shall soone receyue his christian vowe,
And after that be bishopped and noynted on the browe.
Giue money, and thou shalt receyue of Christ the bodie true,
Euen as it hoong vpon the Crosse, when as he suffred nue.
Giue money, nose, and eyes, and eares, shall then be noynted well,
And mouth, and hand, and foote, and all annoynted sent to hell.
Giue money, and thy Tombe amid the Church shall placed bee,
Or in the Queere so that no raine or wet shall trouble thee.
Giue money then, and store of Psalmes and Dirges shalt thou haue,
And eke with great lamenting shall thy corps be borne to graue.
Giue money, and thou shalt be blest, with store of Trentals soong,
And yearely in remembraunce had, with Soule peales duely roong.
Giue money, and vpon thy Tombe a princely hearse they set,
Still smokt with Franckensence, and all with holy water wet.
Giue money, and of all thy vowes discharged shalt thou bee,
And eke with Gods commaundements they shall dispence for thee
All things for money will they do, yet neuer satisfide,
For diuers Masses are they feede, yet one shall serue the tide.
Sometime a thousand vnderneath the Chalice do they lay,
Receyuing money for them all, yet neuer a one they say.
Nor carefull of their guile they are, the people they dispise,
And all the meanes they can to scrape vp golde they do deuise.
They diuers benifices get, and serue the turne of none:
But onely set their minde on gaine, and ydlenesse alone.
Both ginnes, and traps, and baytes and hookes, they lay on euery side,
And present are at sicke mens willes, some porcion to prouide.
Besides for tythes and offring pence, they earnestly do call.
Beginning first at head: and so dispersed through them all.
They are themselues for to be solde, whosoeuer is bent to buy,
And all things that they haue besides, to sale doth open lye.
Giue money thou, and straight the Gates of heauen open bee.
And eke as many soules drawne out of hell as pleaseth thee.
Giue money, and from all thy faultes and sinnes thou shalt be free,
And all made well, and with their Bull it shall confirmed bee.
Giue money, and for thine estate they pray continuallye,
And fast, till as all ouergrowne in fatte they wallowing lye.
Giue money, and their merites great, to thee they streight will sell,
So that thou needest take no care at all for liuing well.
Giue money, and they giue thee leaue to marry at thy will
In times unlawfull, and to hop about with Iacke and Gill.
Giue money, and they licence giue, both egges and fleshe to eate,
As well on frydayes as in Lent, and euery kinde of meate.
Giue money, and thy childe shall soone receyue his christian vowe,
And after that be bishopped and noynted on the browe.
Giue money, and thou shalt receyue of Christ the bodie true,
Euen as it hoong vpon the Crosse, when as he suffred nue.
Giue money, nose, and eyes, and eares, shall then be noynted well,
And mouth, and hand, and foote, and all annoynted sent to hell.
Giue money, and thy Tombe amid the Church shall placed bee,
Or in the Queere so that no raine or wet shall trouble thee.
Giue money then, and store of Psalmes and Dirges shalt thou haue,
And eke with great lamenting shall thy corps be borne to graue.
Giue money, and thou shalt be blest, with store of Trentals soong,
And yearely in remembraunce had, with Soule peales duely roong.
Giue money, and vpon thy Tombe a princely hearse they set,
Still smokt with Franckensence, and all with holy water wet.
28
And eke with Gods commaundements they shall dispence for thee
All things for money will they do, yet neuer satisfide,
For diuers Masses are they feede, yet one shall serue the tide.
Sometime a thousand vnderneath the Chalice do they lay,
Receyuing money for them all, yet neuer a one they say.
Nor carefull of their guile they are, the people they dispise,
And all the meanes they can to scrape vp golde they do deuise.
They diuers benifices get, and serue the turne of none:
But onely set their minde on gaine, and ydlenesse alone.
Both ginnes, and traps, and baytes and hookes, they lay on euery side,
And present are at sicke mens willes, some porcion to prouide.
Besides for tythes and offring pence, they earnestly do call.
These are the things that common are vnto these members all.
Iudge now thy selfe, if that they bee the Church of Christ, that so
They seeke to seeme, and faine would haue themselues accounted tho.
Attempt they any kinde of thing, that Christian rule doth teach?
Treade they the auncient fathers steps whereof so much they preach?
All things contrary shalt thou see, their pompe and fonde aray,
Their Apish Cowles and straunge attire, and beards cut quite away.
Their shauen crownes, their mourning gownes, their bedlem iesture mad,
Their Mitars, & their Crostars gilt, square caps & musick glad.
Their holy Chrisme, contempt of lawes, and life corrupted so,
And all the rest that ydlenesse inuented long ago:
As plagues to perfite godlinesse, and toyes the worlde to daze,
That so the people still might haue something whereat to gaze.
Wherby the ground of superstition from these gay things might grow,
For seldome doth the common sort, the truth from falsehoode know.
Nor trie the doctrine and the life by scriptures perfite light,
And rules of Prophets olde, that were inspirde with holy spright,
The things that gorgeous are and gay, as holy they esteeme,
And euer more do loth the things that plaine and simple seeme.
Hereby the Popes had easie way, while as they onely sought,
To haue their doings of the people great and wondrous thought.
If they had sought the honor here, and glory of Christ alone,
As best becomes his ministers, and seruaunts euery one,
They simply would haue taught the flocke, and vsde no colours vaine,
And liude according to the lawes of God, and statutes plaine.
Now haue the people better skill, of Popes decrees and lyes,
Than of his holy ordnaunces, that framde the loftie skyes,
And will not way their owne estate, and miserable case,
But stop their eares if any speake, and turne away their face.
And rather altogither be deceyude and runne awrie,
And euerlastingly be damnd in hell for companie.
Iudge now thy selfe, if that they bee the Church of Christ, that so
They seeke to seeme, and faine would haue themselues accounted tho.
Attempt they any kinde of thing, that Christian rule doth teach?
Treade they the auncient fathers steps whereof so much they preach?
All things contrary shalt thou see, their pompe and fonde aray,
Their Apish Cowles and straunge attire, and beards cut quite away.
Their shauen crownes, their mourning gownes, their bedlem iesture mad,
Their Mitars, & their Crostars gilt, square caps & musick glad.
Their holy Chrisme, contempt of lawes, and life corrupted so,
And all the rest that ydlenesse inuented long ago:
As plagues to perfite godlinesse, and toyes the worlde to daze,
That so the people still might haue something whereat to gaze.
Wherby the ground of superstition from these gay things might grow,
For seldome doth the common sort, the truth from falsehoode know.
Nor trie the doctrine and the life by scriptures perfite light,
And rules of Prophets olde, that were inspirde with holy spright,
The things that gorgeous are and gay, as holy they esteeme,
And euer more do loth the things that plaine and simple seeme.
Hereby the Popes had easie way, while as they onely sought,
To haue their doings of the people great and wondrous thought.
If they had sought the honor here, and glory of Christ alone,
As best becomes his ministers, and seruaunts euery one,
[28]
And liude according to the lawes of God, and statutes plaine.
Now haue the people better skill, of Popes decrees and lyes,
Than of his holy ordnaunces, that framde the loftie skyes,
And will not way their owne estate, and miserable case,
But stop their eares if any speake, and turne away their face.
And rather altogither be deceyude and runne awrie,
And euerlastingly be damnd in hell for companie.
29
The thirde booke.
Now
must we here beholde their fayth, and how the papacie
beleeues, bicause of fayth it woulde a Captaine counted be.
And of the Catholike Church alone, of Christ to haue the fame,
And wondrously they boast and brag, in bearing of this name.
Which Church if that it were in deede, and doctrine as they say,
Great wickednesse it surely were, from them to fall away.
But if it may be plainely prooude, they trust no whit in Christ,
Nor worship God alone, nor looke for succour of the hiest.
But as the Gentiles Idoles serue, and worship them with care,
What kinde of Church it may be calde, a childe may sone declare.
How much it alwayes shoulde be shoonde, of such as Christ doe loue,
And onely seeke through him to please, th'almightie Lorde aboue.
beleeues, bicause of fayth it woulde a Captaine counted be.
And of the Catholike Church alone, of Christ to haue the fame,
And wondrously they boast and brag, in bearing of this name.
Which Church if that it were in deede, and doctrine as they say,
Great wickednesse it surely were, from them to fall away.
But if it may be plainely prooude, they trust no whit in Christ,
Nor worship God alone, nor looke for succour of the hiest.
But as the Gentiles Idoles serue, and worship them with care,
What kinde of Church it may be calde, a childe may sone declare.
How much it alwayes shoulde be shoonde, of such as Christ doe loue,
And onely seeke through him to please, th'almightie Lorde aboue.
But first t'is meete for to declare, the perfite fayth and right,
As hath before beene taught by men, inspirde with holy spright:
One onely God we are wilde to haue, and worship euermore,
To whose right hande we must commit, our selues and all our store.
Abandoning all worldly care, and confidence in man,
As he that cares for vs, and guides, and best of others can.
This whosoeuer doth, both feares, and him doth truly loue,
And puttes his onely confidence, and trust in him aboue:
And vnto him alone doth flye, in his aduersitie,
And calles to him being sure of helpe, as best for him shall be.
We also must in Iesus Christ, beleeue assuredlye:
His onely sonne who at his time, came downe from heauens hye,
For our offences and reliefe, made perfite man whereby
He might redeeme vs all from death, and hell eternally:
And with his bloud our sinnes deface, that for his sake alone,
The father onely fauours vs, and blesseth euery one:
Hath giuen vs life, and all our sinnes and faultes forgiuen quight,
And of his mercie made vs heyres, with him of heauen bright.
This who so constantly beleeues, and doth with tongue confesse,
Is made the childe of God, and heyre of euerlasting blesse.
He neither feareth Deuills force, nor death with cruell strife,
Nor all the raging of the worlde, nor daungers of this life.
But fastning still his eyes on Christ, in safetie doth he row,
Such one is perfite Israel, the Church of Christ doth know.
Such Citizens, and such thou mayst call alwayes worthily
True Catholikes, and members of the blessed company.
For those that dare not trust in Christ, nor in his father hie,
Doe quake for feare, and seeke for holes, not knowing where to lie.
And of their owne they alwayes seeke, a righteousnesse to haue,
Whereby they may content the Lorde, their sinfull soules to saue:
Not satisfied with heauenly giftes, nor righteousnesse from hie,
And fathers fauour here for Christ, who gaue himselfe to die
For our offences great, and made the satisfaction full,
And from the handes of death and hell, did vs for euer pull.
O Lorde how few doe thus beleeue? how euery where in vaine,
They doe abuse the name of Christ, and counterfeytes remaine.
Being Christians calde, and both in life, and fayth doe disagree,
As in this popishe kingdome here thou perfitly mayst see.
For marke what things they doe beleeue, what monsters they do frame
I not denie, but euery where of Christ the blessed name
Is calde vpon in Churches great, and Creede is dayly songue,
And Christ the true redeemer calde, alonely with the tongue,
And tearmed Lorde, but farre from him, the heart doth seeme to bee,
And with the wide resounding mouth, it doth no whit agree.
Which in so many things appeares, so plaine vnto the eye,
That gracelesse must he counted be that will the same denye.
And first beholde how earnestly, they seeke in euery thing,
The righteousnesse that of themselues, and proper force doth spring.
Not to thentent to liue a right, and please the father great,
That of his mercie calleth vs, vnto his blessed seate:
Or Christ that all our sinnes and faultes, doth cleerely wash away,
Nor with their life and ayde to helpe, their brethren all they may.
But onely heauen for to winne, and to be free from blame,
And with deserts to please the Lorde, that all the worlde did frame.
Where now appeeres the hope of life, by Christ obtained right?
And cleere forgiuenesse of our sinnes, and Sathan put to flight?
For who so seekes and searcheth still, thinkes yet he hath it not,
For no man seeketh for the thing now in possession got.
Nor any man that hath his wittes, by merits seekes to winne,
The thing that is alreadie giuen, but rather thanketh him:
And merily enioyes the gift, of his obtained wealth,
With gratefull minde set free from cares, in quietnesse and health.
Therefore since that in euery thing, they righteousnesse desire,
And heapes of merites and desertes, they earnestly require.
And most vngodly vseth them, vnto so ill an ende,
They neyther doe beleeue in Christ, that he doth onely sende,
And freely giue eternall life, nor that he satisfise
For all our greeuous sinnes and faultes, they rather doe despise
His merites and his fathers giftes, while prowdely in their hartes
They trust vnto their righteousnesse, and to their owne desartes,
Hereto it tendes whatsoeuer they doe, in Church or otherwhere,
For this such straunge religion haue they framde, and paultrie gere.
And this alone of all their life, the marke and ende they made,
Supposing not to come to God, by any other trade.
A Iewish people sure and such, as at this present day,
No better then the Gentiles are, take name of Christ away.
For in like sorte through all the worlde, they doe beleeue as well,
And lawe of nature doth instruct, and reason doth them tell:
That for good deedes there doth behinde, a recompence remaine,
And that th'almightie father that doth guide the starrie raine
Is to be pleasde with worshipping, good deedes and righteousnesse,
And other things whereby we may, our louing mindes expresse.
Herewith they couet euery one, to rayse vp mountaines hie,
As long time since the Giantes did, for to assault the skie.
But sure they shall be ouerthrowne, and driuen downe to hell,
For why the Lorde hath long agone, decreede as scriptures tell,
Not to forgiue th'offences of the worlde, but by his sonne,
By whom the subtile serpents head, is broke and ouercome.
The blinded worlde regardes not this, nor seekes to vnderstande
Nor trustes the worde of God, but in hir owne conceytes doth stande.
And countes hir fancie still the best, and crediteth alway,
The fonde deuises of hir braine, vntill hir dying day.
Euen so the Turkish multitude, doe put their onely trust,
In liuing as their law commaundes, and in their doings iust.
So likewyse doth the Iewe beleeue, saluation for to haue,
By keeping of their auncient lawe that Moyses to them gaue.
And euery kinde of people else, the very same confesse,
Beleeuing to be saued by their lawe and righteousnesse.
None otherwise the papacie, continually beleeues,
Nor vnderstandes the righteousnesse, that fayth alonely geeues.
Although they reade the scriptures and saint Paule, and doe them sift,
Who of the righteousnesse of fayth, and of the Fathers gift,
Through Christ doth speake so oft, who is our righteousnesse alone,
And raunsome eke. But let vs see the parcelles euery one.
As hath before beene taught by men, inspirde with holy spright:
One onely God we are wilde to haue, and worship euermore,
To whose right hande we must commit, our selues and all our store.
Abandoning all worldly care, and confidence in man,
As he that cares for vs, and guides, and best of others can.
This whosoeuer doth, both feares, and him doth truly loue,
And puttes his onely confidence, and trust in him aboue:
And vnto him alone doth flye, in his aduersitie,
And calles to him being sure of helpe, as best for him shall be.
We also must in Iesus Christ, beleeue assuredlye:
His onely sonne who at his time, came downe from heauens hye,
For our offences and reliefe, made perfite man whereby
He might redeeme vs all from death, and hell eternally:
And with his bloud our sinnes deface, that for his sake alone,
The father onely fauours vs, and blesseth euery one:
Hath giuen vs life, and all our sinnes and faultes forgiuen quight,
And of his mercie made vs heyres, with him of heauen bright.
This who so constantly beleeues, and doth with tongue confesse,
Is made the childe of God, and heyre of euerlasting blesse.
[29]
Nor all the raging of the worlde, nor daungers of this life.
But fastning still his eyes on Christ, in safetie doth he row,
Such one is perfite Israel, the Church of Christ doth know.
Such Citizens, and such thou mayst call alwayes worthily
True Catholikes, and members of the blessed company.
For those that dare not trust in Christ, nor in his father hie,
Doe quake for feare, and seeke for holes, not knowing where to lie.
And of their owne they alwayes seeke, a righteousnesse to haue,
Whereby they may content the Lorde, their sinfull soules to saue:
Not satisfied with heauenly giftes, nor righteousnesse from hie,
And fathers fauour here for Christ, who gaue himselfe to die
For our offences great, and made the satisfaction full,
And from the handes of death and hell, did vs for euer pull.
O Lorde how few doe thus beleeue? how euery where in vaine,
They doe abuse the name of Christ, and counterfeytes remaine.
Being Christians calde, and both in life, and fayth doe disagree,
As in this popishe kingdome here thou perfitly mayst see.
For marke what things they doe beleeue, what monsters they do frame
I not denie, but euery where of Christ the blessed name
Is calde vpon in Churches great, and Creede is dayly songue,
And Christ the true redeemer calde, alonely with the tongue,
And tearmed Lorde, but farre from him, the heart doth seeme to bee,
And with the wide resounding mouth, it doth no whit agree.
Which in so many things appeares, so plaine vnto the eye,
That gracelesse must he counted be that will the same denye.
And first beholde how earnestly, they seeke in euery thing,
The righteousnesse that of themselues, and proper force doth spring.
Not to thentent to liue a right, and please the father great,
That of his mercie calleth vs, vnto his blessed seate:
Or Christ that all our sinnes and faultes, doth cleerely wash away,
Nor with their life and ayde to helpe, their brethren all they may.
But onely heauen for to winne, and to be free from blame,
And with deserts to please the Lorde, that all the worlde did frame.
Where now appeeres the hope of life, by Christ obtained right?
And cleere forgiuenesse of our sinnes, and Sathan put to flight?
30
For no man seeketh for the thing now in possession got.
Nor any man that hath his wittes, by merits seekes to winne,
The thing that is alreadie giuen, but rather thanketh him:
And merily enioyes the gift, of his obtained wealth,
With gratefull minde set free from cares, in quietnesse and health.
Therefore since that in euery thing, they righteousnesse desire,
And heapes of merites and desertes, they earnestly require.
And most vngodly vseth them, vnto so ill an ende,
They neyther doe beleeue in Christ, that he doth onely sende,
And freely giue eternall life, nor that he satisfise
For all our greeuous sinnes and faultes, they rather doe despise
His merites and his fathers giftes, while prowdely in their hartes
They trust vnto their righteousnesse, and to their owne desartes,
Hereto it tendes whatsoeuer they doe, in Church or otherwhere,
For this such straunge religion haue they framde, and paultrie gere.
And this alone of all their life, the marke and ende they made,
Supposing not to come to God, by any other trade.
A Iewish people sure and such, as at this present day,
No better then the Gentiles are, take name of Christ away.
For in like sorte through all the worlde, they doe beleeue as well,
And lawe of nature doth instruct, and reason doth them tell:
That for good deedes there doth behinde, a recompence remaine,
And that th'almightie father that doth guide the starrie raine
Is to be pleasde with worshipping, good deedes and righteousnesse,
And other things whereby we may, our louing mindes expresse.
Herewith they couet euery one, to rayse vp mountaines hie,
As long time since the Giantes did, for to assault the skie.
But sure they shall be ouerthrowne, and driuen downe to hell,
For why the Lorde hath long agone, decreede as scriptures tell,
Not to forgiue th'offences of the worlde, but by his sonne,
By whom the subtile serpents head, is broke and ouercome.
The blinded worlde regardes not this, nor seekes to vnderstande
Nor trustes the worde of God, but in hir owne conceytes doth stande.
And countes hir fancie still the best, and crediteth alway,
The fonde deuises of hir braine, vntill hir dying day.
[30]
In liuing as their law commaundes, and in their doings iust.
So likewyse doth the Iewe beleeue, saluation for to haue,
By keeping of their auncient lawe that Moyses to them gaue.
And euery kinde of people else, the very same confesse,
Beleeuing to be saued by their lawe and righteousnesse.
None otherwise the papacie, continually beleeues,
Nor vnderstandes the righteousnesse, that fayth alonely geeues.
Although they reade the scriptures and saint Paule, and doe them sift,
Who of the righteousnesse of fayth, and of the Fathers gift,
Through Christ doth speake so oft, who is our righteousnesse alone,
And raunsome eke. But let vs see the parcelles euery one.
Christ when he went from hence did leaue two sacraments behind,
Whereby we might continually his goodnesse keepe in minde,
And staye our fayth: beleeuing all our sinnes forgiuen quight,
By him alone, and we made heyres, of euerlasting light.
The first is Baptisme wherewithall, we washt in water cleane,
Being buried in the blessed waues, and plungde in sacred streame:
Are made the seruaunts here of Christ, with him continuallye,
To suffer what so euer faules, and eke to liue and dye.
Which as it plaine and simple is, so is it most of price,
And not to be defilde with any toye or mans deuice.
But this it here defiled hath, with wicked doctrine plaine,
And with a foolish number great of Cerimonies vaine,
For thus it plainely teacheth that our sinnes forgiuen arre,
Alonely by the deede hereof, not adding any barre.
Accounting not the giftes of God, dealt here without desart,
Nor sinnes by Christ forgiuen free, but by the deede and part:
Of him that well prepares himselfe vnto this sacrament,
That merits may haue place, and workes may gaine the firmament.
And that which vnto God is due, to vs imputeth aye,
Ascribing that to deedes, that fayth doth onely take awaye.
And that assuredly before, the font thou commest neare,
And ere thou washt and plunged art, amid the waters cleare.
Whereby we might continually his goodnesse keepe in minde,
And staye our fayth: beleeuing all our sinnes forgiuen quight,
By him alone, and we made heyres, of euerlasting light.
The first is Baptisme wherewithall, we washt in water cleane,
Being buried in the blessed waues, and plungde in sacred streame:
Are made the seruaunts here of Christ, with him continuallye,
To suffer what so euer faules, and eke to liue and dye.
Which as it plaine and simple is, so is it most of price,
And not to be defilde with any toye or mans deuice.
But this it here defiled hath, with wicked doctrine plaine,
And with a foolish number great of Cerimonies vaine,
For thus it plainely teacheth that our sinnes forgiuen arre,
Alonely by the deede hereof, not adding any barre.
Accounting not the giftes of God, dealt here without desart,
Nor sinnes by Christ forgiuen free, but by the deede and part:
Of him that well prepares himselfe vnto this sacrament,
That merits may haue place, and workes may gaine the firmament.
And that which vnto God is due, to vs imputeth aye,
Ascribing that to deedes, that fayth doth onely take awaye.
And that assuredly before, the font thou commest neare,
And ere thou washt and plunged art, amid the waters cleare.
Nor here through baptising the sinnes of man forgiuen are,
Nor by the deede thereof as plaine, the scriptures doe declare.
But all forgiuen when they doe beleeue we doe confesse,
As counted eke among the flocke, and heyres of blessednesse.
But such as haue no fayth at all, but vnbeleeuers be,
No pardon haue though ten times in the fludde they sowsed be.
That of it selfe it profites not, although it here be done,
With purpose to amende the life, that after is to come.
Wherefore in auncient time it was not giuen any man,
Before he had confessed Christ, with mouth expressing than
The fayth that in his heart lay hid declaring all and some,
And how forgiuenesse here of sinne, from Christ doth freely come.
Ascribing nothing to the deedes, of man and merites vaine,
Nor trusting to the fonde deuice, of supersticious braine.
But now bicause this Popish state, in Christ doth not beleeue,
It doth not teache that onely he, doth freely sinnes forgeeue.
But wanders through the stonie wayes, and ditches blinde to hell,
And through the thornes to follow him, the people doth compell,
Besides with foolish toyes he hath defilde this baptisme quight,
To make the estimation more, of mans deseruing right.
A number great of crosses first, he makes and lustilye,
He blowes out sprights, commaunding them with cruell words to flye.
The foole beleeues the infantes yong, with sprightes to be possest,
Whom faythfull christian people here begat, and parents blest,
Then thrustes he salt into their mouth, annoynting all the while,
The infantes tender eyes, and eares, with stincking spittle vile.
This done his oyle and creame he takes, and with discretion small,
Annoyntes the shoulders of the Childe, and eke his brest withall.
The Crysome then he calleth for, wherein he fast doth foulde
The little soule: and makes him in his hande a Taper houlde.
And that he may the better grow, he liftes him vp on hie,
Herein least that he should be thought to dote and runne awrie.
And onely with these trifles to delude the people blinde,
Then wondrous signes of holy things, he fayneth in his minde.
Who will not now make more account, of these same trifles vaine,
The solemne order of the Priest, and toyes of mortall braine:
Then of the gracious gift of God, and merites of his sonne,
Who with his precious bloud redeemde vs all from death to come.
Especially when all the rowte, that standes about him rounde,
Knowes neuer a worde of all that he, in latine phrase doth sounde.
But onely heares a babling noyse, and earnestly doe marke,
The outwarde shew of all his deedes, and ceremonies darke.
Nor by the deede thereof as plaine, the scriptures doe declare.
31
As counted eke among the flocke, and heyres of blessednesse.
But such as haue no fayth at all, but vnbeleeuers be,
No pardon haue though ten times in the fludde they sowsed be.
That of it selfe it profites not, although it here be done,
With purpose to amende the life, that after is to come.
Wherefore in auncient time it was not giuen any man,
Before he had confessed Christ, with mouth expressing than
The fayth that in his heart lay hid declaring all and some,
And how forgiuenesse here of sinne, from Christ doth freely come.
Ascribing nothing to the deedes, of man and merites vaine,
Nor trusting to the fonde deuice, of supersticious braine.
But now bicause this Popish state, in Christ doth not beleeue,
It doth not teache that onely he, doth freely sinnes forgeeue.
But wanders through the stonie wayes, and ditches blinde to hell,
And through the thornes to follow him, the people doth compell,
Besides with foolish toyes he hath defilde this baptisme quight,
To make the estimation more, of mans deseruing right.
A number great of crosses first, he makes and lustilye,
He blowes out sprights, commaunding them with cruell words to flye.
The foole beleeues the infantes yong, with sprightes to be possest,
Whom faythfull christian people here begat, and parents blest,
Then thrustes he salt into their mouth, annoynting all the while,
The infantes tender eyes, and eares, with stincking spittle vile.
This done his oyle and creame he takes, and with discretion small,
Annoyntes the shoulders of the Childe, and eke his brest withall.
The Crysome then he calleth for, wherein he fast doth foulde
The little soule: and makes him in his hande a Taper houlde.
And that he may the better grow, he liftes him vp on hie,
Herein least that he should be thought to dote and runne awrie.
And onely with these trifles to delude the people blinde,
Then wondrous signes of holy things, he fayneth in his minde.
Who will not now make more account, of these same trifles vaine,
The solemne order of the Priest, and toyes of mortall braine:
Then of the gracious gift of God, and merites of his sonne,
Who with his precious bloud redeemde vs all from death to come.
[31]
Knowes neuer a worde of all that he, in latine phrase doth sounde.
But onely heares a babling noyse, and earnestly doe marke,
The outwarde shew of all his deedes, and ceremonies darke.
So playe they with the supper that our Lorde did sanctifie,
Whereby we might be mindefull of his death continuallie:
Unto the strengthning of our fayth, and our ascertaind wealth,
As pledges of our happie state, and euerlasting health.
To shew that with his death he hath our sinnes defaced quight,
And with his precious bloud hath made vs in his fathers sight
Both cleane and free from euery spot, and euery crime withall,
And made vs righteous here and iust, and free from deadly fall.
Which hope is by this supper still, made new and fresh againe,
And by the worde and blessed signe, doth written still remaine,
Both in our feeble eyes and heartes, whereby we euermore,
May prayse the Lorde and Iesus Christ his onely sonne therefore.
And thankefull be with ioyfull heartes, for all these mercies kinde,
United all togither with, one heart and friendly minde.
To nourish this affection still, and eke in memorie
Alwayes to keepe this great good will, and fauour worthilie.
He hath commaunded breade and wine, to be receyude of all,
As of his blessed body and bloud, the tokens mysticall.
But O good God, what monstrous things, hath here this papacie
About this supper fainde? what follyes, and iniquitie?
First hath he altred quight the name, and Masse he calles the same,
Which what it signifies, if it be Greeke or Latine name,
Or rather from the Hebrue fetcht, himselfe he cannot tell,
Nor all his court about the same, are yet resolued well.
Then sixe or seauen shamefull things, deuised by his braine,
He hath commaunded to beleeue, mistaking scriptures plaine.
As that the substaunce here of bread, by force of wordes and might,
Is chaungde into the bodie of Christ, and in the selfesame plight
The wine is turnd into his bloud that nothing doth remaine,
Of bread and wine, when once the Priest his words hath spoken plaine:
But onely collour, smell, and taste, and least that any man
Unlearned here perhaps might doubt, himselfe declareth than,
Into what kinde of bodie this breade, is chaunged and transformde,
And eke into what kinde of bloud, the blessed wine is turnde.
The body as it here was of the Uirgine Marie borne,
As it with whips was scourged here, and on the crosse was torne.
His bloud as from his precious side, vpon the grounde was shed,
And though this sacrament be euery day, and houre solemnized,
And Christ thus eaten euermore, yet doth he not decaye,
But vnconsumde of shape and forme, remayneth one alway.
Besides although the little Cake, a sunder broken be,
Into a thousande peeces, or as small as small may be:
Yet euery little peece is Christ, and that most perfitelie,
With skin, and flesh, and bloud, and bones, and all his quantitie.
That no vngodly man defiles, this holye blessed thing,
And that the wicked man aswell, doth Christ from heauen bring
Into the breade, as doth the man that liueth most vpright,
Beside that Christ doth not withdraw himselfe from any wight.
And that aswell the ill as good and faythlesse people vaine,
Euen as the faythfull him doe eate, though not with equall gaine.
That this same body goeth not downe, as other meate doth go,
But chaunged into him it is, that doth receaue it tho.
Besides as soone as in the mouth it comes, so sodainelye
Away it goes (not torne with teeth) into the heauens hye.
That in this breade which here we see, and little compasse small,
Lies Christ that suffred for our sinnes, and God that filleth all.
And that in many places here, at once at that same tide
He is, and present therewithall, through all the worlde beside.
That this same body vttred many wordes and phrases fit,
While as among his well disposde disciples he did sit.
And euen there transformde to bread, while as he talking stoode,
And eaten of his people strayte, as other kinde of foode.
Besides he plainely doth affirme, that euery Priest that is,
Doth in his massing offer Christ, and that this sacrifise
Is euen as much in weight with him, that all the worlde doth guide,
As was his bitter death when on, the painefull crosse he dyde.
Moreouer twelue commodities, he also doth resight,
That euery skilfull Priest receyues, and euery housled wight.
And euery one that present is, while as the Masse is sayde,
And marketh with attentiue eares, how well Sir Iohn hath prayde.
Besides he teacheth that the Masse, doth profit equallye,
Aswell the men aliue, as those that long ago did dye.
And last of all he from the people, pluckes the cuppe away,
And vnder one kinde lies as much as vnder both, doth say.
Bicause no body here doth liue, but bloud must needes be there,
Nor bloud can any life possesse, without the bodie here.
As if that Christ the maister of the worlde knew not of this,
But in his owne appoyntment shoulde for lacke of knowledge mis.
And are not these same wondrous things, and learnings passing great,
When Christ did neuer will the same, nor hereof did intreate?
To this he patcheth merites to, the Priestes deseruing hy,
And euery one that heares the Masse, and euery stander by.
For nothing in the Papacie, without desertes is donne,
Nor must be wrought: sith for a rule, it generally doth ronne.
That all our health dependeth of our workes and our good deedes,
No place hath fayth nor glorie giuen, to Christ From whome proceedes
Our happie state and blessed life, nor onely to the grace
Of God they haue respect, that doth of mercy vs imbrace.
Who causeth Masse or doth it say, doth merite wondrously,
The like doe they that doe it heare, and marke attentiuely.
Who neyther heares nor vnderstandes a word thereof at all,
But standeth onely in the Church, as painted on a wall,
With merites great rewarded is, and all his sinnes thereby,
Forgiuen quite the hope whereof, doth make him looke full hye.
Yea if the bell to sacring toule, and farre from thence thou bee,
And cannot come but earnestly doe wish the same to see.
A merite great you gotten haue, thus playne it doth appere,
The supper serueth for desertes, with papistes euery where.
Their trust is alwayes in the Masse, to this they onely flye,
In euery thing that toucheth them, and euery ieoperdye.
And is not this a goodly crewe? they are perswaded still,
What daye they heare or see a Masse, to haue no kinde of ill.
Thus comes it here to passe that I, did lately say and wright,
They put not all their trust in Christ, but in their proper might.
And in their owne good workes, as in their doings they expresse,
Being full of incredulitie, and all vngodlinesse.
Masse opens heauen gates, and doth deliuer men from hell,
Masse healeth all diseases, and doth sicknesses expell.
Masse doth relieue the burdned minde, and sinnes defaceth quight.
Masse pleaseth him that guides the skies, and giues the heauens bright.
Masse pluckes the sinfull soules from out the Purgatorie fire,
Masse comforteth th'afflicted sort, and makes them to aspire.
Masse washeth cleane the mind, and makes the guiltie conscience cleere,
Masse doth obtaine the grace of God, and keepes his fauour heere.
Masse driueth wicked Deuils hence, and ouerthrowes the feendes,
Masse bringeth Angels good from hie, & makes them faythfull freendes.
Masse doth defende the trauayler, from daunger and disease,
Masse doth preserue the sayling ship amid the raging seas.
Masse giueth store of corne and graine, and helpeth husbandree.
Masse blesseth euery such as seekes in welthie state to bee.
Masse gettes a man a pleasant wife, and gettes the mayd hir mate,
Masse helpes the Captaine in the fielde, and furthereth debate.
Masse also doth asswage the heate that in the heart doth raigne,
Masse doth defende the pleasant grapes, and vineyards doth maintaine.
Masse helpes the hunter with his horne, and makes the dog to runne,
Masse sendeth store of sport and game into their nettes to come.
Masse molifieth the angrie mindes, and driueth rage away,
Masse brings the wofull Louers to their long desired day.
Masse doth destroy the witches works, & makes their charmings vaine,
Masse causeth good deliueraunce, and helpes the womans paine.
Masse makes thy prayers to be heard, and giueth thy request,
Masse driues away the greedie Woolfe, that doth the sheepe molest.
Masse makes the murraine for to ceasse, and stocke to thriue apace,
Masse makes thy iourney prosper well, whersoeuer thou turnst thy face.
Masse ouerthrowes thine enmies force, and doth resist his might,
Masse driues out Robyn good fellow, and bugs that walke by night.
Masse plague and hunger doth expell, and ciuill mutenie,
Masse makes a man with quiet minde, and conscience cleere to die.
Masse vseth many slouthfull knaues, and lubbers for to feede,
Masse brings in dayly gaine, as doth the Sowters arte at neede.
In Masse is all their trust & strength, all things through Masse are don,
In all their griefes and miseries, to Masse they streightwayes ron.
Such force hath lewde perswasion here, in teaching men awrie,
That our good workes are onely they that gaine the heauens hie.
By this so many aultars in the Churches vp did rise,
By this the number growes so great of Priestes to sacrifice.
From hence arose such shamefull swarmes of Monkes wt great excesse,
Whom profite of this Masse doth keepe in slouthfull ydlenesse.
For this same cause such mightie kings, and famous Princes hie,
Ordayned Masses for their soules, and Priestes continuallie,
With great reuenues yearely left and euerlasting fee,
An easie way to ioy, if it with scriptures might agree.
Streight after these, the welthie men tooke vp this fansie vaine,
And built them Chappels euery one, and Chaplaynes did retaine
At home, or in their parishe Church, where Masse they dayly soong,
For sauegarde of their family, and of their children yoong.
Both for their friendes aliue, and such as long before did die,
And in the Purgatorie flames tormented sore doe lie.
Christ in his Supper giues himselfe to vs assuredly,
And all his vertuous deedes on vs bestowes, and doth apply,
His merites and his hie desartes with vs he common makes,
His grace and mercies euery one, extended for our sakes.
We this receyue, and nothing giue, nor can we giue againe,
But onely faythfull louing hearts, and thankefull for his paine.
These men by meritorious workes, and solemne chaunting cheere,
With Masses make him recompence, and satisfie him heere.
Thus much the Pope peruerted hath the giftes of God deuine,
With dreames and fond deuice of man, and cursed countermine:
That no where nowe appeares the hope of sinnes forgiuen quight,
By Christ and life obtayned here, and Sathan put to flight.
Whereby we might be mindefull of his death continuallie:
Unto the strengthning of our fayth, and our ascertaind wealth,
As pledges of our happie state, and euerlasting health.
To shew that with his death he hath our sinnes defaced quight,
And with his precious bloud hath made vs in his fathers sight
Both cleane and free from euery spot, and euery crime withall,
And made vs righteous here and iust, and free from deadly fall.
Which hope is by this supper still, made new and fresh againe,
And by the worde and blessed signe, doth written still remaine,
Both in our feeble eyes and heartes, whereby we euermore,
May prayse the Lorde and Iesus Christ his onely sonne therefore.
And thankefull be with ioyfull heartes, for all these mercies kinde,
United all togither with, one heart and friendly minde.
To nourish this affection still, and eke in memorie
Alwayes to keepe this great good will, and fauour worthilie.
He hath commaunded breade and wine, to be receyude of all,
As of his blessed body and bloud, the tokens mysticall.
But O good God, what monstrous things, hath here this papacie
About this supper fainde? what follyes, and iniquitie?
First hath he altred quight the name, and Masse he calles the same,
Which what it signifies, if it be Greeke or Latine name,
Or rather from the Hebrue fetcht, himselfe he cannot tell,
Nor all his court about the same, are yet resolued well.
Then sixe or seauen shamefull things, deuised by his braine,
He hath commaunded to beleeue, mistaking scriptures plaine.
As that the substaunce here of bread, by force of wordes and might,
Is chaungde into the bodie of Christ, and in the selfesame plight
The wine is turnd into his bloud that nothing doth remaine,
Of bread and wine, when once the Priest his words hath spoken plaine:
But onely collour, smell, and taste, and least that any man
Unlearned here perhaps might doubt, himselfe declareth than,
32
And eke into what kinde of bloud, the blessed wine is turnde.
The body as it here was of the Uirgine Marie borne,
As it with whips was scourged here, and on the crosse was torne.
His bloud as from his precious side, vpon the grounde was shed,
And though this sacrament be euery day, and houre solemnized,
And Christ thus eaten euermore, yet doth he not decaye,
But vnconsumde of shape and forme, remayneth one alway.
Besides although the little Cake, a sunder broken be,
Into a thousande peeces, or as small as small may be:
Yet euery little peece is Christ, and that most perfitelie,
With skin, and flesh, and bloud, and bones, and all his quantitie.
That no vngodly man defiles, this holye blessed thing,
And that the wicked man aswell, doth Christ from heauen bring
Into the breade, as doth the man that liueth most vpright,
Beside that Christ doth not withdraw himselfe from any wight.
And that aswell the ill as good and faythlesse people vaine,
Euen as the faythfull him doe eate, though not with equall gaine.
That this same body goeth not downe, as other meate doth go,
But chaunged into him it is, that doth receaue it tho.
Besides as soone as in the mouth it comes, so sodainelye
Away it goes (not torne with teeth) into the heauens hye.
That in this breade which here we see, and little compasse small,
Lies Christ that suffred for our sinnes, and God that filleth all.
And that in many places here, at once at that same tide
He is, and present therewithall, through all the worlde beside.
That this same body vttred many wordes and phrases fit,
While as among his well disposde disciples he did sit.
And euen there transformde to bread, while as he talking stoode,
And eaten of his people strayte, as other kinde of foode.
Besides he plainely doth affirme, that euery Priest that is,
Doth in his massing offer Christ, and that this sacrifise
Is euen as much in weight with him, that all the worlde doth guide,
As was his bitter death when on, the painefull crosse he dyde.
Moreouer twelue commodities, he also doth resight,
That euery skilfull Priest receyues, and euery housled wight.
[32]
And marketh with attentiue eares, how well Sir Iohn hath prayde.
Besides he teacheth that the Masse, doth profit equallye,
Aswell the men aliue, as those that long ago did dye.
And last of all he from the people, pluckes the cuppe away,
And vnder one kinde lies as much as vnder both, doth say.
Bicause no body here doth liue, but bloud must needes be there,
Nor bloud can any life possesse, without the bodie here.
As if that Christ the maister of the worlde knew not of this,
But in his owne appoyntment shoulde for lacke of knowledge mis.
And are not these same wondrous things, and learnings passing great,
When Christ did neuer will the same, nor hereof did intreate?
To this he patcheth merites to, the Priestes deseruing hy,
And euery one that heares the Masse, and euery stander by.
For nothing in the Papacie, without desertes is donne,
Nor must be wrought: sith for a rule, it generally doth ronne.
That all our health dependeth of our workes and our good deedes,
No place hath fayth nor glorie giuen, to Christ From whome proceedes
Our happie state and blessed life, nor onely to the grace
Of God they haue respect, that doth of mercy vs imbrace.
Who causeth Masse or doth it say, doth merite wondrously,
The like doe they that doe it heare, and marke attentiuely.
Who neyther heares nor vnderstandes a word thereof at all,
But standeth onely in the Church, as painted on a wall,
With merites great rewarded is, and all his sinnes thereby,
Forgiuen quite the hope whereof, doth make him looke full hye.
Yea if the bell to sacring toule, and farre from thence thou bee,
And cannot come but earnestly doe wish the same to see.
A merite great you gotten haue, thus playne it doth appere,
The supper serueth for desertes, with papistes euery where.
Their trust is alwayes in the Masse, to this they onely flye,
In euery thing that toucheth them, and euery ieoperdye.
And is not this a goodly crewe? they are perswaded still,
What daye they heare or see a Masse, to haue no kinde of ill.
Thus comes it here to passe that I, did lately say and wright,
They put not all their trust in Christ, but in their proper might.
33
Being full of incredulitie, and all vngodlinesse.
Masse opens heauen gates, and doth deliuer men from hell,
Masse healeth all diseases, and doth sicknesses expell.
Masse doth relieue the burdned minde, and sinnes defaceth quight.
Masse pleaseth him that guides the skies, and giues the heauens bright.
Masse pluckes the sinfull soules from out the Purgatorie fire,
Masse comforteth th'afflicted sort, and makes them to aspire.
Masse washeth cleane the mind, and makes the guiltie conscience cleere,
Masse doth obtaine the grace of God, and keepes his fauour heere.
Masse driueth wicked Deuils hence, and ouerthrowes the feendes,
Masse bringeth Angels good from hie, & makes them faythfull freendes.
Masse doth defende the trauayler, from daunger and disease,
Masse doth preserue the sayling ship amid the raging seas.
Masse giueth store of corne and graine, and helpeth husbandree.
Masse blesseth euery such as seekes in welthie state to bee.
Masse gettes a man a pleasant wife, and gettes the mayd hir mate,
Masse helpes the Captaine in the fielde, and furthereth debate.
Masse also doth asswage the heate that in the heart doth raigne,
Masse doth defende the pleasant grapes, and vineyards doth maintaine.
Masse helpes the hunter with his horne, and makes the dog to runne,
Masse sendeth store of sport and game into their nettes to come.
Masse molifieth the angrie mindes, and driueth rage away,
Masse brings the wofull Louers to their long desired day.
Masse doth destroy the witches works, & makes their charmings vaine,
Masse causeth good deliueraunce, and helpes the womans paine.
Masse makes thy prayers to be heard, and giueth thy request,
Masse driues away the greedie Woolfe, that doth the sheepe molest.
Masse makes the murraine for to ceasse, and stocke to thriue apace,
Masse makes thy iourney prosper well, whersoeuer thou turnst thy face.
Masse ouerthrowes thine enmies force, and doth resist his might,
Masse driues out Robyn good fellow, and bugs that walke by night.
Masse plague and hunger doth expell, and ciuill mutenie,
Masse makes a man with quiet minde, and conscience cleere to die.
Masse vseth many slouthfull knaues, and lubbers for to feede,
Masse brings in dayly gaine, as doth the Sowters arte at neede.
[33]
In all their griefes and miseries, to Masse they streightwayes ron.
Such force hath lewde perswasion here, in teaching men awrie,
That our good workes are onely they that gaine the heauens hie.
By this so many aultars in the Churches vp did rise,
By this the number growes so great of Priestes to sacrifice.
From hence arose such shamefull swarmes of Monkes wt great excesse,
Whom profite of this Masse doth keepe in slouthfull ydlenesse.
For this same cause such mightie kings, and famous Princes hie,
Ordayned Masses for their soules, and Priestes continuallie,
With great reuenues yearely left and euerlasting fee,
An easie way to ioy, if it with scriptures might agree.
Streight after these, the welthie men tooke vp this fansie vaine,
And built them Chappels euery one, and Chaplaynes did retaine
At home, or in their parishe Church, where Masse they dayly soong,
For sauegarde of their family, and of their children yoong.
Both for their friendes aliue, and such as long before did die,
And in the Purgatorie flames tormented sore doe lie.
Christ in his Supper giues himselfe to vs assuredly,
And all his vertuous deedes on vs bestowes, and doth apply,
His merites and his hie desartes with vs he common makes,
His grace and mercies euery one, extended for our sakes.
We this receyue, and nothing giue, nor can we giue againe,
But onely faythfull louing hearts, and thankefull for his paine.
These men by meritorious workes, and solemne chaunting cheere,
With Masses make him recompence, and satisfie him heere.
Thus much the Pope peruerted hath the giftes of God deuine,
With dreames and fond deuice of man, and cursed countermine:
That no where nowe appeares the hope of sinnes forgiuen quight,
By Christ and life obtayned here, and Sathan put to flight.
To these two Sacraments, that Christ himselfe appoynted heere,
They adde fiue others, that more cause of merits may appeere.
Which though they neyther tokens bee of Gods assured loue,
Which they ne can being not confirmde with promise from aboue:
Yet dare he boldly promise here, to such as take them right,
The grace and fauour of the Lorde, and eke the holy spright.
He doth confirme the children yong, without examining,
Or tryall of their fayth, or of their woonted handling.
He teacheth that the holy ghost may be receyude, and had
At handes of euery Priest, that is, as well of good as bad.
Not putting difference betwixt Christes Legates truly sent,
And wicked Simon, damned for his mischieuous intent.
With Creame their foreheads doth he mark, the people laughing there,
And those whome thus he marked hath he striketh on the eare.
Then Godfather or Godmother is readie streight at hande,
To binde the noynted forehead, like a wound, with linnen bande.
Which he enforced is to weare eight dayes continuallie,
With pleasure great to euery one that keepes him companie.
And after taken of againe, his forehead washed cleene,
So that no holy Chrisme thereon, for to remaine be seene.
They adde fiue others, that more cause of merits may appeere.
Which though they neyther tokens bee of Gods assured loue,
Which they ne can being not confirmde with promise from aboue:
Yet dare he boldly promise here, to such as take them right,
The grace and fauour of the Lorde, and eke the holy spright.
34
Or tryall of their fayth, or of their woonted handling.
He teacheth that the holy ghost may be receyude, and had
At handes of euery Priest, that is, as well of good as bad.
Not putting difference betwixt Christes Legates truly sent,
And wicked Simon, damned for his mischieuous intent.
With Creame their foreheads doth he mark, the people laughing there,
And those whome thus he marked hath he striketh on the eare.
Then Godfather or Godmother is readie streight at hande,
To binde the noynted forehead, like a wound, with linnen bande.
Which he enforced is to weare eight dayes continuallie,
With pleasure great to euery one that keepes him companie.
And after taken of againe, his forehead washed cleene,
So that no holy Chrisme thereon, for to remaine be seene.
What should I here remember now, what crimes & haynous things
Confession takes away? and eke what helpe contrition brings
And satisfaction for our faultes? to shield our soules from paine,
It must buy out our misdeedes all, to their purloyning gaine.
For all things still he doth impute, to deedes of mortall men,
Not knowing perfite fayth in Christ, nor teaching it to them.
But rather doth destroy it quite, accounting wickedlee,
Our Sauiour Christ but as a man, and Cypher here to bee.
Undoubtedly the flocke of Christ doth euermore confesse
Their sinnes, and for the same repents with griefe and heauinesse:
Nor maketh any righteousnesse hereof, nor iustifide
Doth seeke to be, no more than in the lawe or death beside.
Nor any other raunsome for their sinnes do thinke to pay,
But onely Christ, whose precious death doth take them all away.
The Pope contrary cleane to this, doth teach in plaine decree,
And doth commaund with dreadfull lawe, all faults confest to bee
Vnto the Priest at Easter time, or of necessitie,
When as the fatall houre is come, and day wherein to die.
And that sincerely here and plaine, what hath bene thought or done,
Else can no sinnes forgiuen bee, nor absolution come.
Where now appeeres th'unfayned hope of sinnes forgiuen quight
By Christ, and euerlasting life, and Sathan put to flight?
Who can declare what harmes the people haue receyude by this,
How many it hath drawne from Christ and euerlasting blis?
What scruple vnto consciences, and trouble it doth bring:
For as they can not call to minde, eche fault and wicked thing
That they haue done, whereby they may confessed thereof bee:
So can they not beleue, that they forgiuen are and free.
Besides with mumbling in a tongue vnknowne, he pardons all,
And hath no worde to beare him out, and stay his faith withall.
But blindly will this teacher blind haue all things credited,
A guide of all vngodlinesse, with doltishe fansies led.
He absolution also giues, by merites for to come,
And such as long agone are past, and presently are done.
Not onely of their owne, but bought with money other wheare.
Vnto the merites eke of Christ, his death and passion deare,
He ioynes the merites here of Saints, and makes them all as one,
Perswading our redemption, not wrought by Christ alone.
In fine a satisfaction for all sinnes it doth suffice,
If to the Romish Chest you throw your money any wise.
Or vnto Abbeys giue your goods, or else your welth applie,
In building solemne synagogs, and loftie towres hie.
Or gad about in Pilgrimage, to visite holy shrines,
Or say your Aue Mary euery houre fortie times,
And bid the blessed Uirgin still good morow manerly,
Or what soeuer else your Priest doth bid you orderly.
I well remember once at Spires I saw a wondrous sight
Of people, in the euening late, with Crosse and torches bright.
The Crosse afore them borne, and all their faces couered,
With backs all bare they passed throw, the streetes and market sted,
Commaunded for to beat them selues with whips and scourges there,
And truely here they trifled not, nor did themselues forbere.
The bloud sprang out a pace, and eke their backe did swell and wheale
With multitude of stripes, that scarce the Surgeon them could heale.
Thus would they wipe away their sinnes, and fully satisfie.
Is not this same a madnesse grosse, and shamefull iniurie,
Brought in into this world with speede, and beastly wickednesse,
Of this vnshamefast popishe state, that truth doth still opresse?
Thinkst thou that with this doctrine here, they trust in Christ aboue?
Or takste thou them for Catholikes, which name they chiefely loue?
The godly Ministers at first, did put to penance still,
Such as were excommunicate, and openly did yll.
That discipline might in the Church be had continuallie,
Least that the heathen should suppose that eche iniquitie
Might there be done vnpunished, and that the others all,
By their example might beware, how they hereafter fall.
And also that such punishment might please againe the mindes,
Of those that were offended with these former wicked crymes:
Not that the sinnes forgiuen were of God with penance such,
For lawes of God and mans decrees doe differ very much.
And with one sort of penance here, they are not both content,
Nor God and man are pleased both alyke with one intent.
Mens mindes with punishment are pleasde, and fully satisfide,
But God is onely pleasde in Christ, and nothing else beside.
Through pure and perfite faith, the Lorde that made both earth & skies,
Releaseth euerlasting paynes, and neuer ceassing cries.
But of this present life he doth release the punishment,
To such as onely trust in him, and vertuously are bent.
They bid that men should in their owne good works haue all their hope,
And trust to merites of the Saints, and pardons of the Pope.
Christ hath not fully satisfide, they thinke assuredly,
And doubt not for to preach the same in audience openly.
Which serueth surely to their gaine, for hereof doth arise,
Their maiestie, their passing welth, and Lordly liberties.
So likewise doth annealing last, take veniall sinnes away,
While as for helpe vnto the Saints, deuoutly they doe pray.
They alwayes are agaynst the Lord, and Christ that here was slaine
For our offences, and our faults, with agonie and paine.
And with their pompe and prowde desertes they cary downe to hell,
The foolish flocke that doth beleeue whatsoeuer they doe tell.
Confession takes away? and eke what helpe contrition brings
And satisfaction for our faultes? to shield our soules from paine,
It must buy out our misdeedes all, to their purloyning gaine.
For all things still he doth impute, to deedes of mortall men,
Not knowing perfite fayth in Christ, nor teaching it to them.
But rather doth destroy it quite, accounting wickedlee,
Our Sauiour Christ but as a man, and Cypher here to bee.
Undoubtedly the flocke of Christ doth euermore confesse
Their sinnes, and for the same repents with griefe and heauinesse:
Nor maketh any righteousnesse hereof, nor iustifide
Doth seeke to be, no more than in the lawe or death beside.
Nor any other raunsome for their sinnes do thinke to pay,
But onely Christ, whose precious death doth take them all away.
The Pope contrary cleane to this, doth teach in plaine decree,
And doth commaund with dreadfull lawe, all faults confest to bee
Vnto the Priest at Easter time, or of necessitie,
When as the fatall houre is come, and day wherein to die.
And that sincerely here and plaine, what hath bene thought or done,
Else can no sinnes forgiuen bee, nor absolution come.
Where now appeeres th'unfayned hope of sinnes forgiuen quight
By Christ, and euerlasting life, and Sathan put to flight?
[34]
How many it hath drawne from Christ and euerlasting blis?
What scruple vnto consciences, and trouble it doth bring:
For as they can not call to minde, eche fault and wicked thing
That they haue done, whereby they may confessed thereof bee:
So can they not beleue, that they forgiuen are and free.
Besides with mumbling in a tongue vnknowne, he pardons all,
And hath no worde to beare him out, and stay his faith withall.
But blindly will this teacher blind haue all things credited,
A guide of all vngodlinesse, with doltishe fansies led.
He absolution also giues, by merites for to come,
And such as long agone are past, and presently are done.
Not onely of their owne, but bought with money other wheare.
Vnto the merites eke of Christ, his death and passion deare,
He ioynes the merites here of Saints, and makes them all as one,
Perswading our redemption, not wrought by Christ alone.
In fine a satisfaction for all sinnes it doth suffice,
If to the Romish Chest you throw your money any wise.
Or vnto Abbeys giue your goods, or else your welth applie,
In building solemne synagogs, and loftie towres hie.
Or gad about in Pilgrimage, to visite holy shrines,
Or say your Aue Mary euery houre fortie times,
And bid the blessed Uirgin still good morow manerly,
Or what soeuer else your Priest doth bid you orderly.
I well remember once at Spires I saw a wondrous sight
Of people, in the euening late, with Crosse and torches bright.
The Crosse afore them borne, and all their faces couered,
With backs all bare they passed throw, the streetes and market sted,
Commaunded for to beat them selues with whips and scourges there,
And truely here they trifled not, nor did themselues forbere.
The bloud sprang out a pace, and eke their backe did swell and wheale
With multitude of stripes, that scarce the Surgeon them could heale.
Thus would they wipe away their sinnes, and fully satisfie.
Is not this same a madnesse grosse, and shamefull iniurie,
Brought in into this world with speede, and beastly wickednesse,
Of this vnshamefast popishe state, that truth doth still opresse?
35
Or takste thou them for Catholikes, which name they chiefely loue?
The godly Ministers at first, did put to penance still,
Such as were excommunicate, and openly did yll.
That discipline might in the Church be had continuallie,
Least that the heathen should suppose that eche iniquitie
Might there be done vnpunished, and that the others all,
By their example might beware, how they hereafter fall.
And also that such punishment might please againe the mindes,
Of those that were offended with these former wicked crymes:
Not that the sinnes forgiuen were of God with penance such,
For lawes of God and mans decrees doe differ very much.
And with one sort of penance here, they are not both content,
Nor God and man are pleased both alyke with one intent.
Mens mindes with punishment are pleasde, and fully satisfide,
But God is onely pleasde in Christ, and nothing else beside.
Through pure and perfite faith, the Lorde that made both earth & skies,
Releaseth euerlasting paynes, and neuer ceassing cries.
But of this present life he doth release the punishment,
To such as onely trust in him, and vertuously are bent.
They bid that men should in their owne good works haue all their hope,
And trust to merites of the Saints, and pardons of the Pope.
Christ hath not fully satisfide, they thinke assuredly,
And doubt not for to preach the same in audience openly.
Which serueth surely to their gaine, for hereof doth arise,
Their maiestie, their passing welth, and Lordly liberties.
So likewise doth annealing last, take veniall sinnes away,
While as for helpe vnto the Saints, deuoutly they doe pray.
They alwayes are agaynst the Lord, and Christ that here was slaine
For our offences, and our faults, with agonie and paine.
And with their pompe and prowde desertes they cary downe to hell,
The foolish flocke that doth beleeue whatsoeuer they doe tell.
What ancor doe they flie vnto in all aduersitie,
In famine, pestilence, and warres, and euery ieopardie?
Looke well about thee now, and giue attentiue eies and eares,
For here the perfite fayth and trust of euery man appeares.
What hope there is in any man, herein is plainely spyde,
The heart of euery creature here, by this is truely tryde.
Who trustes in God alone, and thinkes him mercifull to bee,
And eke almightie, call on him in all aduersitee.
And vnto him he onely flies in feare and dreadfull wo,
As by his worde he oftentymes commaundeth vs to do.
But whither flies this Papacie? in whom put they their trust?
In all things rather than in Christ, or in his father iust.
Denying him to be their God, and helper at their neede,
Nor that all things in heauen and earth, doth from his handes proceede.
For if they did not in their heartes this openlye denie,
They would in all their troubles here, to him for succour flie.
And all their things into his handes they would commit alway,
Not seeking Mediators here, nor speachmen for to pray.
Contended onely here with one, whose grace and fauour great
For vs we may be well assurde, doth euermore intreat.
But with one perfite God alone, they can not well away,
Their chiefest trust and hope, they in the Uirgin Marie lay.
In famine, pestilence, and warres, and euery ieopardie?
Looke well about thee now, and giue attentiue eies and eares,
For here the perfite fayth and trust of euery man appeares.
[35]
The heart of euery creature here, by this is truely tryde.
Who trustes in God alone, and thinkes him mercifull to bee,
And eke almightie, call on him in all aduersitee.
And vnto him he onely flies in feare and dreadfull wo,
As by his worde he oftentymes commaundeth vs to do.
But whither flies this Papacie? in whom put they their trust?
In all things rather than in Christ, or in his father iust.
Denying him to be their God, and helper at their neede,
Nor that all things in heauen and earth, doth from his handes proceede.
For if they did not in their heartes this openlye denie,
They would in all their troubles here, to him for succour flie.
And all their things into his handes they would commit alway,
Not seeking Mediators here, nor speachmen for to pray.
Contended onely here with one, whose grace and fauour great
For vs we may be well assurde, doth euermore intreat.
But with one perfite God alone, they can not well away,
Their chiefest trust and hope, they in the Uirgin Marie lay.
Shee pleaseth God, and with hir childe, in armes continually
Delighteth him, and what she askes, he neuer doth deny.
Shee is the Queene of heauen bright, and with a beck can do
Whatsoeuer shee determinde is, and giues hirselfe vnto.
Shee is the happie starre on seas, and port of perfite rest,
And surest ancour for to stay the ship in seas opprest.
Shee is the light of all the world, and mother here of grace,
That doth of God forgiuenesse get, and doth our sinnes deface.
Shee keepeth those that worship hir in heart continually,
From handes of euery wicked sprite, and deuils tyranny,
And with hir gowne shee couers Kings, and Popes, and people all,
From wrath of God, and vengeance due, that on their heads would fall.
The gate of heauen eke is shee, and euerlasting life,
The onely life of all the worlde, and ende of all our strife.
Shee is the hope of euery man, and chiefe defendresse heere,
Shee shewes vs Iesus Christ, when as before hir we appeere.
Shee also in the dreadfull howre of death doth vs defende,
Shee blesseth all the life of man, and fortune good doth sende.
Wherefore to hir in euery place, with all their heartes they call,
Shee helpeth children at their bookes, and giues them wits withall.
Shee helpes yong maides to husbandes both of liuing faire and face,
Shee helpes the wofull sutor, to obtaine his Ladies grace.
And vnto maryed folkes, shee giues faire children here with ioy,
And in their trauaile keepes the wiues, from daunger and annoy.
Shee healeth aged men of coughes, and shortnesse of their breath,
And brings them in their latter dayes vnto a happie death.
Shee helpes the husbandman with seede, and sendes him raine ynough,
Shee filles his barne with corne and hay, and guideth well his plough.
The shipman seekes hir ayde in seas, in daunger great and paine,
The wandring Marchant trustes by hir to haue his wished gaine.
The greedie craftes man trusteth still a good successe to haue,
By hir that is the Ladie of the worlde, and all doth saue.
To hir they doe commend themselues, and all their familie,
That get themselues beyond the seas for feare of ieopardie.
What should I euery thing resight, in euery matter shee
Is callde vpon, and alwayes thought the onely ayde to bee.
Shee is all in all, and heares and sees what can be done or thought,
And gouernes all in euery place where as this fayth is taught.
Delighteth him, and what she askes, he neuer doth deny.
Shee is the Queene of heauen bright, and with a beck can do
Whatsoeuer shee determinde is, and giues hirselfe vnto.
Shee is the happie starre on seas, and port of perfite rest,
And surest ancour for to stay the ship in seas opprest.
Shee is the light of all the world, and mother here of grace,
That doth of God forgiuenesse get, and doth our sinnes deface.
Shee keepeth those that worship hir in heart continually,
From handes of euery wicked sprite, and deuils tyranny,
And with hir gowne shee couers Kings, and Popes, and people all,
From wrath of God, and vengeance due, that on their heads would fall.
The gate of heauen eke is shee, and euerlasting life,
The onely life of all the worlde, and ende of all our strife.
Shee is the hope of euery man, and chiefe defendresse heere,
Shee shewes vs Iesus Christ, when as before hir we appeere.
Shee also in the dreadfull howre of death doth vs defende,
Shee blesseth all the life of man, and fortune good doth sende.
36
Shee helpeth children at their bookes, and giues them wits withall.
Shee helpes yong maides to husbandes both of liuing faire and face,
Shee helpes the wofull sutor, to obtaine his Ladies grace.
And vnto maryed folkes, shee giues faire children here with ioy,
And in their trauaile keepes the wiues, from daunger and annoy.
Shee healeth aged men of coughes, and shortnesse of their breath,
And brings them in their latter dayes vnto a happie death.
Shee helpes the husbandman with seede, and sendes him raine ynough,
Shee filles his barne with corne and hay, and guideth well his plough.
The shipman seekes hir ayde in seas, in daunger great and paine,
The wandring Marchant trustes by hir to haue his wished gaine.
The greedie craftes man trusteth still a good successe to haue,
By hir that is the Ladie of the worlde, and all doth saue.
To hir they doe commend themselues, and all their familie,
That get themselues beyond the seas for feare of ieopardie.
What should I euery thing resight, in euery matter shee
Is callde vpon, and alwayes thought the onely ayde to bee.
Shee is all in all, and heares and sees what can be done or thought,
And gouernes all in euery place where as this fayth is taught.
Right acceptable vnto God, and holiest sure of all
The Uirgin is, whom euermore the worlde shall blessed call:
Yet neuer ought shee for to haue such estimation heere,
Nor powre deuine, without the worde of God and scriptures cleere.
For if shee haue such force, and can do all that hath beene tolde,
What doth remaine to Christ the king, that Scepter chiefe doth holde?
Adde more to this that Popish priestes these fansies fonde do faine,
Without the Prophets warrant, or the Apostles teaching plaine.
Who seeth not here that they ne doe in God put all their trust,
That framde the earth and heauen hie, with perfite measure iust?
And that they make no account of Christ, who here ascended hie,
Whereby he might relieue the worlde and all things here supplie?
They rather in our Ladie trust, and still to hir do call,
If any daunger them oppresse, or mischiefe great do fall.
Hir doe they paint and liuely carue, and giue hir prayses tho,
In Churches hie and euery house wheresoeuer you come or go.
To hir they weping, sob, and sigh, and howle, and mourne, and all,
To hir they certaine prayers giue, that here the Course they call,
And sundrie other seruices, but vsed commonly
As most of weight, the Rosaries do flourish wondrously,
Deuised first and made by Monkes, a kind of men that bee
The authors still of wickednesse, and all iniquitee.
They vnder cloke of worshipping the Uirgin, haue assignde
A certaine foolish felowship, whom weekely they do binde,
To offer vp these Rosaries, vnto the Uirgin pure,
And neuer faile this seruice great, as long as they indure.
An other kinde of Monkes there is, by office sanctified,
That nothing haue to doe with Christ, nor any Saint beside,
But serue the Uirgin Marie here, as onely of hir traine,
And wisely sure they are aduisde, for so they more doe gaine:
Than if they should account themselues Christes seruaunts here to be,
And onely labour to aduaunce his name and dignitie.
True fayth continually is poore, and liues in simple case,
Vngodlinesse procureth gaine, and wealth in euery place.
The Uirgin more on solemne dayes appoynted festiuall,
Is highly worshipt of hir folke, and shauen Papistes all.
Hir Image doe they brauely decke with sumptuous show to sight,
Hir aultar set about with bowes, and Lampes, and Candels bright.
Eche man his Candle present hath, that burneth thorow the yeare,
And Franckensence in euery place doth smoke, and singing cleare
With Organs in the Church resoundes, the people brings in pence,
And on the aultar offer all with wondrous reuerence.
Such honors are not here bestowde on Christ in any place,
He is not thought to do so much, nor of so great a grace:
Or counted of his nature else for to be more seuere,
Than to vouchsafe to looke vpon our deedes and prayers here.
Besides they keepe our Ladyes fast at sundrie solemne tymes,
Instructed by a turning wheele, or as the lot assignes.
For euery Sexten hath a wheele, that hangeth for the viewe,
Markte round about with certaine dayes, vnto the virgin dewe.
Which holy through ye yere are kept, from whence hangs down a thred,
Of length sufficient to be toucht, and to be handled.
Now when that any seruaunt of our Ladyes commeth heere,
And sekes to haue some certaine day by lotte for to appeere,
This Sexten turnes the wheele about, and bids the stander by,
To holde the thred whereby he doth, the time and season try:
Wherein he ought to keepe his fast, and euery other thing,
That decent is, or longing to our Ladies worshipping.
Who doth so much for Christ, or who for him doth take such paine,
To whome if that they light a syse, his mother hath six againe.
The second place in euery thing, he hath or else the last,
For no man doth his hole affiaunce here vpon him cast.
The popish sorte and people all, by name doe know him here,
But all their trust and confidence, they set another where.
The Uirgin is, whom euermore the worlde shall blessed call:
Yet neuer ought shee for to haue such estimation heere,
Nor powre deuine, without the worde of God and scriptures cleere.
For if shee haue such force, and can do all that hath beene tolde,
What doth remaine to Christ the king, that Scepter chiefe doth holde?
Adde more to this that Popish priestes these fansies fonde do faine,
Without the Prophets warrant, or the Apostles teaching plaine.
Who seeth not here that they ne doe in God put all their trust,
That framde the earth and heauen hie, with perfite measure iust?
And that they make no account of Christ, who here ascended hie,
Whereby he might relieue the worlde and all things here supplie?
They rather in our Ladie trust, and still to hir do call,
If any daunger them oppresse, or mischiefe great do fall.
Hir doe they paint and liuely carue, and giue hir prayses tho,
In Churches hie and euery house wheresoeuer you come or go.
[36]
To hir they certaine prayers giue, that here the Course they call,
And sundrie other seruices, but vsed commonly
As most of weight, the Rosaries do flourish wondrously,
Deuised first and made by Monkes, a kind of men that bee
The authors still of wickednesse, and all iniquitee.
They vnder cloke of worshipping the Uirgin, haue assignde
A certaine foolish felowship, whom weekely they do binde,
To offer vp these Rosaries, vnto the Uirgin pure,
And neuer faile this seruice great, as long as they indure.
An other kinde of Monkes there is, by office sanctified,
That nothing haue to doe with Christ, nor any Saint beside,
But serue the Uirgin Marie here, as onely of hir traine,
And wisely sure they are aduisde, for so they more doe gaine:
Than if they should account themselues Christes seruaunts here to be,
And onely labour to aduaunce his name and dignitie.
True fayth continually is poore, and liues in simple case,
Vngodlinesse procureth gaine, and wealth in euery place.
The Uirgin more on solemne dayes appoynted festiuall,
Is highly worshipt of hir folke, and shauen Papistes all.
Hir Image doe they brauely decke with sumptuous show to sight,
Hir aultar set about with bowes, and Lampes, and Candels bright.
Eche man his Candle present hath, that burneth thorow the yeare,
And Franckensence in euery place doth smoke, and singing cleare
With Organs in the Church resoundes, the people brings in pence,
And on the aultar offer all with wondrous reuerence.
Such honors are not here bestowde on Christ in any place,
He is not thought to do so much, nor of so great a grace:
Or counted of his nature else for to be more seuere,
Than to vouchsafe to looke vpon our deedes and prayers here.
Besides they keepe our Ladyes fast at sundrie solemne tymes,
Instructed by a turning wheele, or as the lot assignes.
For euery Sexten hath a wheele, that hangeth for the viewe,
Markte round about with certaine dayes, vnto the virgin dewe.
Which holy through ye yere are kept, from whence hangs down a thred,
Of length sufficient to be toucht, and to be handled.
37
And sekes to haue some certaine day by lotte for to appeere,
This Sexten turnes the wheele about, and bids the stander by,
To holde the thred whereby he doth, the time and season try:
Wherein he ought to keepe his fast, and euery other thing,
That decent is, or longing to our Ladies worshipping.
Who doth so much for Christ, or who for him doth take such paine,
To whome if that they light a syse, his mother hath six againe.
The second place in euery thing, he hath or else the last,
For no man doth his hole affiaunce here vpon him cast.
The popish sorte and people all, by name doe know him here,
But all their trust and confidence, they set another where.
Nor onely to the Uirgin here, they dare themselues commit,
Nor vnderneath hir sole defence, they quietly can sit:
But vnto other saintes they flye, whom God hath long agone
Receyued from this present worlde, vnto his stately throne:
That after all their cares and toyles, with misery opprest,
Deliuered from the worlde, they might haue euerlasting rest.
But these men from the skies doe bring them downe to earth againe,
Depriuing them of rest, and putting them to worldely paine.
For yet (they say) they carefull are for mortall men beside,
None otherwise than God, or Christ, that all the worlde doth guide:
And that they mediatours are, and aduocates for man,
Before the Lorde and helpe vs here, by all the meanes they can,
Deliuering vs from punishment, and our deserued fall,
And that they heare the prayers of all such as to them call.
As if that Christ vnable were, to doe all this alone,
Who made himselfe our aduocate, before his fathers throne.
These things they fayne and doe inuent, without both fayth and minde,
That stedfast can they neuer stande, nor safetie here can finde.
As he cannot that puttes not all his trust in God alone,
And in the faythfull sauiour, of all our hope the stone.
Therfore they worship saints with hymnes, & songs and musike sweete
With Aultars fayre and Churches built, in euery towne and streete,
In fieldes abrode and parishes, in villages about,
So that no corner can be founde, nor place appeare without:
But picture painted of some saint, there gorgeously doth shine,
Or caruen Image worshipped, with reuerence deuine.
And ech one hath his day alowde, whereon they doe beleue,
That from the earth departing here, the skies did them receue.
An other holy day they haue, when church or aultar here,
Is dedicated vnto them, with pompe and lustie chere.
The Churches for their sakes are strawde, with pleasant flowers sweete
And euery piller garnished with bowes and braunches meete.
The aultar also couered is, with clothes of value great,
The Tabernacles opned are, and saintes are shewde in seat,
Fayre guilt and finely ouerlayde, with siluer sumptuously,
The grounde with Turkey carpettes spred, and hangde with tapestry,
Perfumed all with franckenscence, and euery pleasaunt thing,
That may prouoke deuocion, and money in to bring.
Nor vnderneath hir sole defence, they quietly can sit:
But vnto other saintes they flye, whom God hath long agone
Receyued from this present worlde, vnto his stately throne:
That after all their cares and toyles, with misery opprest,
Deliuered from the worlde, they might haue euerlasting rest.
But these men from the skies doe bring them downe to earth againe,
Depriuing them of rest, and putting them to worldely paine.
For yet (they say) they carefull are for mortall men beside,
None otherwise than God, or Christ, that all the worlde doth guide:
And that they mediatours are, and aduocates for man,
Before the Lorde and helpe vs here, by all the meanes they can,
Deliuering vs from punishment, and our deserued fall,
And that they heare the prayers of all such as to them call.
As if that Christ vnable were, to doe all this alone,
Who made himselfe our aduocate, before his fathers throne.
These things they fayne and doe inuent, without both fayth and minde,
That stedfast can they neuer stande, nor safetie here can finde.
As he cannot that puttes not all his trust in God alone,
And in the faythfull sauiour, of all our hope the stone.
Therfore they worship saints with hymnes, & songs and musike sweete
With Aultars fayre and Churches built, in euery towne and streete,
In fieldes abrode and parishes, in villages about,
So that no corner can be founde, nor place appeare without:
[37]
Or caruen Image worshipped, with reuerence deuine.
And ech one hath his day alowde, whereon they doe beleue,
That from the earth departing here, the skies did them receue.
An other holy day they haue, when church or aultar here,
Is dedicated vnto them, with pompe and lustie chere.
The Churches for their sakes are strawde, with pleasant flowers sweete
And euery piller garnished with bowes and braunches meete.
The aultar also couered is, with clothes of value great,
The Tabernacles opned are, and saintes are shewde in seat,
Fayre guilt and finely ouerlayde, with siluer sumptuously,
The grounde with Turkey carpettes spred, and hangde with tapestry,
Perfumed all with franckenscence, and euery pleasaunt thing,
That may prouoke deuocion, and money in to bring.
Their bones they also vp doe digge, and sepulchres destrye,
Contrarie quight to mans decrees, and will of God on hye:
Whereby a greater gaine may come, and wickednesse aryse,
And that they may beguile the worlde, and bleare the peoples eyes,
And all in Golde these bones they set, and rounde with siluer binde,
And closde in Christall to delude, th'unlearned simple minde.
Here faine they many miracles, and of their liues they preache,
And all their good and gracious workes, continually they teache.
Not to the honoring of Christ, nor that the people might,
By folowing of their vertuous life be brought to liue vpright:
But for to bring them from the truth, vnto idolatrie,
And for to picke their purses here, and them to follies tie.
For this they bring them forth abrode, and on the aultar show,
For this they carie them about, with many a cursey low:
And offer them to any man, for money here to kisse,
Nor onely in this wretched case, they are content with this:
To haue their bones in siluer closde, and fondely to perswade,
Men vnto supersticion, with this same foolish trade:
But also forth they shew their clothes, their clokes, their socks, their hose
Their napkins, shooes, and sillie shirtes, their heare, their skin, their tose.
And eke the Uirgin Maries milke, (so farre they be from shame,)
And coales whereon saint Laurence lay, while as he broylde in flame.
Yea more than this, they shew the Haye, whereon our sauiour lay,
Amid the maunger when he first, was borne with ioyfull day.
And eake his coate that cruell souldiours, woulde not here deuide,
The nayles and dredfull poynted speare, that perst his tender side.
From whence sprange out the watrish bloud, and cartlodes great beside
Of that same crosse that long time since was in the riuer spide:
Whereof in euery famous Church some peeces doe appeare
Besides the sliuers that about their neckes doe many weare:
And sundrie other thinges they shew, which here for to resight,
Time suffers not, nor leysure doth permit me here to wright.
Thou woonder wouldst how these same things, so many yeres should lie
And in what place they founde them first, and how they came therebie.
But lawfull is it not to aske, to doubt thereof is sinne:
For all things are most truly done, and no deceyt therein.
Besides they promise pardon here, of faulte and trespasse quight,
And merites great of waight to such, as came to see this sight.
So vile deceyuers of the worlde, borne here to faine and lie,
To leade the people into hell, and keepe them from the skie.
Contrarie quight to mans decrees, and will of God on hye:
Whereby a greater gaine may come, and wickednesse aryse,
And that they may beguile the worlde, and bleare the peoples eyes,
And all in Golde these bones they set, and rounde with siluer binde,
And closde in Christall to delude, th'unlearned simple minde.
Here faine they many miracles, and of their liues they preache,
And all their good and gracious workes, continually they teache.
Not to the honoring of Christ, nor that the people might,
By folowing of their vertuous life be brought to liue vpright:
But for to bring them from the truth, vnto idolatrie,
And for to picke their purses here, and them to follies tie.
For this they bring them forth abrode, and on the aultar show,
For this they carie them about, with many a cursey low:
And offer them to any man, for money here to kisse,
Nor onely in this wretched case, they are content with this:
To haue their bones in siluer closde, and fondely to perswade,
Men vnto supersticion, with this same foolish trade:
But also forth they shew their clothes, their clokes, their socks, their hose
Their napkins, shooes, and sillie shirtes, their heare, their skin, their tose.
And eke the Uirgin Maries milke, (so farre they be from shame,)
And coales whereon saint Laurence lay, while as he broylde in flame.
38
Amid the maunger when he first, was borne with ioyfull day.
And eake his coate that cruell souldiours, woulde not here deuide,
The nayles and dredfull poynted speare, that perst his tender side.
From whence sprange out the watrish bloud, and cartlodes great beside
Of that same crosse that long time since was in the riuer spide:
Whereof in euery famous Church some peeces doe appeare
Besides the sliuers that about their neckes doe many weare:
And sundrie other thinges they shew, which here for to resight,
Time suffers not, nor leysure doth permit me here to wright.
Thou woonder wouldst how these same things, so many yeres should lie
And in what place they founde them first, and how they came therebie.
But lawfull is it not to aske, to doubt thereof is sinne:
For all things are most truly done, and no deceyt therein.
Besides they promise pardon here, of faulte and trespasse quight,
And merites great of waight to such, as came to see this sight.
So vile deceyuers of the worlde, borne here to faine and lie,
To leade the people into hell, and keepe them from the skie.
To euery saint they also doe, his office here assine,
And fourtene doe they count of whom, thou mayst haue ayde deuine.
Among the which our Ladie still, doth holde the chiefest place,
And of hir gentle nature helpes, in euery kinde of case.
Saint Barbara lookes that none without the body of Christ doe dye,
Saint Cathern fauours learned men, and giues them wisedome hye:
And teacheth to resolue the doubtes, and alwayes giueth ayde,
Unto the scolding Sophister, to make his reason stayde.
Saint Appolin the rotten teeth doth helpe when sore they ake,
Otilia from the bleared eyes, the cause and griefe doth take.
Rooke healeth skabbes and maungines, with pockes and skurfe & skall,
And cooleth raging Carbuncles, and byles and botches all.
There is a saint whose name in verse cannot declared be,
He serues against the plague and ech infectiue maladie.
Saint Valentine beside to such, as doe his power dispise
The falling sicknesse sendes, and helpes the man that to him cries.
The raging minde of furious folkes doth Vitus pacifie
And doth restore them to their witte, being calde on speedilie.
Erasmus heales the Collicke and the griping of the guttes,
And Laurence from the backe and from the shoulders sicknesse puttes.
Blase driues away the quinsey quight, with water sanctifide,
From euery Christian creature here, and euery beast beside.
But Leonerd of the prisoners doth, the bandes a sunder pull,
And breakes the prison doores and chaines, wherwith his Church is full.
The quartane ague and the reast, doth Pernel take away,
And Iohn preserues his worshippers, from pryson euery day.
Which force to Benet eke they giue, that helpe enough may bee,
By saintes in euery place: what dost thou here omitted see?
From dreadfull vnprouided death, doth Marke deliuer his,
Who of more force than death himselfe, and more of value is.
Saint Anne giues wealth and liuing great, to such as loue hir most,
And is a perfite finder out, of things that haue beene lost.
Which vertue likewise they ascribe, vnto an other man,
Saint Vincent, what he is I cannot tell, nor whence he came.
Against reproche and infamy, on Susan doe they call,
Romanus driueth sprites away, and wicked deuills all.
The Byshop Wolfgang heales the goute, S. Wendlin kepes the sheepe
With shepheardes, and the Oxen fatte, as he was woont to keepe.
The bristled hogges doth Antonie preserue and cherish well,
Who in his life tyme alwayes did in woodes and forrestes dwell.
Saint Gartrude riddes the house of Mise, and killeth all the Rattes,
The like doth Bishop Huldrich with his earth, two passing Cattes.
Saint Gregorie lookes to little boyes, to teache their a. b. c,
And makes them for to loue their bookes, and schollers good to be.
Saint Nicolas keepes the Mariners, from daunger and diseas
That beaten are with boystrous waues, and tost in dredfull seas.
Great Chrystopher that painted is with body big and tall,
Doth euen the same, who doth preserue, and keepe his seruants all,
From fearefull terrours of the night, and makes them well to rest,
By whom they also all their life, with diuers ioyes are blest.
Saint Agathæ defendes thy house, from fire and fearefull flame,
But when it burnes, in armour all doth Florian quench the same.
Saint Vrban makes the pleasant wine, and doth preserue it still,
And spourging vessels all with Must continually doth fill.
Iudocus doth defende the corne, from myldeawes and from blast,
And Magnus from the same doth driue the Grashopper as fast
Thy office George is onely here, the horseman to defende,
Great Kinges and Noble men with pompe, on thee doe still attende.
And Loye the smith doth looke to horse, and smithes of all degree,
If they with Iron meddle here, or if they Goldesmithes bee.
Saint Luke doth euermore defende, the paynters facultie,
Phisitions eke by Cosme and his fellow guided be.
Who can remember all the saintes, to whome the popish sort,
In all theyr troubles here with prayer, as vnto God resort?
For Christ they doe suppose is madde, and slouthfully doth liue,
Regarding naught but all his minde to idlenesse doth giue.
And fourtene doe they count of whom, thou mayst haue ayde deuine.
Among the which our Ladie still, doth holde the chiefest place,
And of hir gentle nature helpes, in euery kinde of case.
Saint Barbara lookes that none without the body of Christ doe dye,
Saint Cathern fauours learned men, and giues them wisedome hye:
And teacheth to resolue the doubtes, and alwayes giueth ayde,
Unto the scolding Sophister, to make his reason stayde.
Saint Appolin the rotten teeth doth helpe when sore they ake,
Otilia from the bleared eyes, the cause and griefe doth take.
Rooke healeth skabbes and maungines, with pockes and skurfe & skall,
And cooleth raging Carbuncles, and byles and botches all.
There is a saint whose name in verse cannot declared be,
He serues against the plague and ech infectiue maladie.
Saint Valentine beside to such, as doe his power dispise
The falling sicknesse sendes, and helpes the man that to him cries.
The raging minde of furious folkes doth Vitus pacifie
And doth restore them to their witte, being calde on speedilie.
[38]
And Laurence from the backe and from the shoulders sicknesse puttes.
Blase driues away the quinsey quight, with water sanctifide,
From euery Christian creature here, and euery beast beside.
But Leonerd of the prisoners doth, the bandes a sunder pull,
And breakes the prison doores and chaines, wherwith his Church is full.
The quartane ague and the reast, doth Pernel take away,
And Iohn preserues his worshippers, from pryson euery day.
Which force to Benet eke they giue, that helpe enough may bee,
By saintes in euery place: what dost thou here omitted see?
From dreadfull vnprouided death, doth Marke deliuer his,
Who of more force than death himselfe, and more of value is.
Saint Anne giues wealth and liuing great, to such as loue hir most,
And is a perfite finder out, of things that haue beene lost.
Which vertue likewise they ascribe, vnto an other man,
Saint Vincent, what he is I cannot tell, nor whence he came.
Against reproche and infamy, on Susan doe they call,
Romanus driueth sprites away, and wicked deuills all.
The Byshop Wolfgang heales the goute, S. Wendlin kepes the sheepe
With shepheardes, and the Oxen fatte, as he was woont to keepe.
The bristled hogges doth Antonie preserue and cherish well,
Who in his life tyme alwayes did in woodes and forrestes dwell.
Saint Gartrude riddes the house of Mise, and killeth all the Rattes,
The like doth Bishop Huldrich with his earth, two passing Cattes.
Saint Gregorie lookes to little boyes, to teache their a. b. c,
And makes them for to loue their bookes, and schollers good to be.
Saint Nicolas keepes the Mariners, from daunger and diseas
That beaten are with boystrous waues, and tost in dredfull seas.
Great Chrystopher that painted is with body big and tall,
Doth euen the same, who doth preserue, and keepe his seruants all,
From fearefull terrours of the night, and makes them well to rest,
By whom they also all their life, with diuers ioyes are blest.
Saint Agathæ defendes thy house, from fire and fearefull flame,
But when it burnes, in armour all doth Florian quench the same.
Saint Vrban makes the pleasant wine, and doth preserue it still,
And spourging vessels all with Must continually doth fill.
39
And Magnus from the same doth driue the Grashopper as fast
Thy office George is onely here, the horseman to defende,
Great Kinges and Noble men with pompe, on thee doe still attende.
And Loye the smith doth looke to horse, and smithes of all degree,
If they with Iron meddle here, or if they Goldesmithes bee.
Saint Luke doth euermore defende, the paynters facultie,
Phisitions eke by Cosme and his fellow guided be.
Who can remember all the saintes, to whome the popish sort,
In all theyr troubles here with prayer, as vnto God resort?
For Christ they doe suppose is madde, and slouthfully doth liue,
Regarding naught but all his minde to idlenesse doth giue.
Yet here it doth not vnto them, a thing sufficient seeme,
To worship all these saintes at home, that they so much esteeme,
Nor that they can in euery place, nor will shew all their might,
Though equally they in the heauens shine with glorie bright:
But into countries farre they go, as they haue vowde before,
Or of their voluntarie willes, to seeke their fauour more:
And beare to them their offrings great, with free and earnest minde,
Supposing at their handes therefore, more fauour for to finde.
Some thither are constrainde to runne, by wicked sprites and ill,
And in their hande a staffe they take, or else some crooked bill:
Or whatsoeuer in their handes, they at that howre had,
Wherein they were compelled thus, with woondrous rage to gad.
Of weapons such at Ratspon are, there thousandes to be seene,
As monuments of people madde, whereto all naked cleene
With thirst and hunger some haue gone, our Ladie for to see,
Enough cannot this wickednesse, and madnesse called bee.
There are that leaue their owne affayres, and businesse that doth fall,
To them in common wealth, theyr men, their wife, and children all,
And runne abrode on pilgrimage, with daunger great and paine,
To purge their sinnes and by desarts, the heauens for to gaine.
For why the Prince of errours all, the better to deface
True godlynesse hath promised, not here in euery place
Forgiuenesse of our sinnes, but in some Churches great alone,
Which poore and riche, and yong and olde, doe credit euery one.
Therefore vnto the holy lande, Ierusalem to see,
Or vnto Compostel they runne, and passe the Pyrannee,
Or else to Rome the Ladie chiefe, of pardons euermore,
Who alwayes hath hir coffers stuft with merites great in store:
And doth dispence with euery man, that willing is to paye,
And for the same hath trauailed, from countrie farre away.
The blessed Uirgin Marie, is in sundrie places sought,
But most at Aquisgran except he better hath it thought:
That sinfull is and wearie of Christ, to Englande for to go,
Where as shee can doe many things, and rules and raigneth so:
That they account it vanitie, to call vpon the highst,
And take him for a blockehead here, that trusteth vnto Christ.
Likewise hath euery other saint, a countrie of his owne,
Where most he showes his miracles, and listeth to be knowne:
And where he heares the prayers best, of such as money giue,
Unto the ydle Monkes and Priestes, that in the Churches liue.
Ech one for his degree doth giue, none thinkes he well hath wrought,
Except some offring meete for his estate he there hath brought:
Whereby such store of precious stones, and costly clothes you spie,
And giftes of Golde and siluer great, but Basons specially:
And Chalises, and Crosses bigge, beset with pearle and stone,
That from the Indians blacke are brought, or got in seas alone.
There glisters greene the Esmerald, that blasing burneth bright,
The Carbuncle there sweetely showes, the pleasant Camnes whight:
There shines the purple Iacinct fayre, great store of Saphires there,
With Diamonds, Iaspers, Chrysolytes, and Agats doe appere:
And all the precious stones that in the worlde are to be seene,
That long ago the giftes of kinges, and Princes great haue beene.
There Candles stande as great as men may well in armes embrace,
And number great of Tapers small, that burne in euery place,
And rounde about hange Images, of waxe that likenesse haue,
Of Children, women, men, and sheepe, and swine, and horses braue,
With sundrie other likenesses, that here were long to tell,
As signes of diuers daungers by this saint escaped well.
Who can declare the massing weedes? the ships of franckensence?
Their reliques, and their costly shrines, with hie magnificence?
Their Banners and their other things, that in the Uestrie lye?
The giftes that to these saintes are due, ech man giues willinglye.
Nor any man restrained is, by neede or pouertie,
So that they be their aduocates, and keepes them from anoye,
And leades, them when their life shall ende, to euerlasting ioye.
Who doth not see that they doe more, in them then Christ beleeue,
To whome they scarce in all their liues one halfepeny doe geeue.
Few, Churches also in the worlde, there are that beare his name,
But saints haue Churches swarming thicke, in euerie streete and lane.
Christ still doth keepe his poore estate, but Paule and Peter there,
In wealth doe Cræsus farre surmount, and eke in costly gere.
The ymage of our Ladie doth King Salomon excell,
And painted Iames with Midas may in show be matched well.
To worship all these saintes at home, that they so much esteeme,
Nor that they can in euery place, nor will shew all their might,
Though equally they in the heauens shine with glorie bright:
But into countries farre they go, as they haue vowde before,
Or of their voluntarie willes, to seeke their fauour more:
And beare to them their offrings great, with free and earnest minde,
Supposing at their handes therefore, more fauour for to finde.
Some thither are constrainde to runne, by wicked sprites and ill,
And in their hande a staffe they take, or else some crooked bill:
Or whatsoeuer in their handes, they at that howre had,
Wherein they were compelled thus, with woondrous rage to gad.
Of weapons such at Ratspon are, there thousandes to be seene,
As monuments of people madde, whereto all naked cleene
With thirst and hunger some haue gone, our Ladie for to see,
Enough cannot this wickednesse, and madnesse called bee.
There are that leaue their owne affayres, and businesse that doth fall,
To them in common wealth, theyr men, their wife, and children all,
And runne abrode on pilgrimage, with daunger great and paine,
To purge their sinnes and by desarts, the heauens for to gaine.
For why the Prince of errours all, the better to deface
True godlynesse hath promised, not here in euery place
Forgiuenesse of our sinnes, but in some Churches great alone,
Which poore and riche, and yong and olde, doe credit euery one.
[39]
Or vnto Compostel they runne, and passe the Pyrannee,
Or else to Rome the Ladie chiefe, of pardons euermore,
Who alwayes hath hir coffers stuft with merites great in store:
And doth dispence with euery man, that willing is to paye,
And for the same hath trauailed, from countrie farre away.
The blessed Uirgin Marie, is in sundrie places sought,
But most at Aquisgran except he better hath it thought:
That sinfull is and wearie of Christ, to Englande for to go,
Where as shee can doe many things, and rules and raigneth so:
That they account it vanitie, to call vpon the highst,
And take him for a blockehead here, that trusteth vnto Christ.
Likewise hath euery other saint, a countrie of his owne,
Where most he showes his miracles, and listeth to be knowne:
And where he heares the prayers best, of such as money giue,
Unto the ydle Monkes and Priestes, that in the Churches liue.
Ech one for his degree doth giue, none thinkes he well hath wrought,
Except some offring meete for his estate he there hath brought:
Whereby such store of precious stones, and costly clothes you spie,
And giftes of Golde and siluer great, but Basons specially:
And Chalises, and Crosses bigge, beset with pearle and stone,
That from the Indians blacke are brought, or got in seas alone.
There glisters greene the Esmerald, that blasing burneth bright,
The Carbuncle there sweetely showes, the pleasant Camnes whight:
There shines the purple Iacinct fayre, great store of Saphires there,
With Diamonds, Iaspers, Chrysolytes, and Agats doe appere:
And all the precious stones that in the worlde are to be seene,
That long ago the giftes of kinges, and Princes great haue beene.
There Candles stande as great as men may well in armes embrace,
And number great of Tapers small, that burne in euery place,
And rounde about hange Images, of waxe that likenesse haue,
Of Children, women, men, and sheepe, and swine, and horses braue,
With sundrie other likenesses, that here were long to tell,
As signes of diuers daungers by this saint escaped well.
Who can declare the massing weedes? the ships of franckensence?
Their reliques, and their costly shrines, with hie magnificence?
40
The giftes that to these saintes are due, ech man giues willinglye.
Nor any man restrained is, by neede or pouertie,
So that they be their aduocates, and keepes them from anoye,
And leades, them when their life shall ende, to euerlasting ioye.
Who doth not see that they doe more, in them then Christ beleeue,
To whome they scarce in all their liues one halfepeny doe geeue.
Few, Churches also in the worlde, there are that beare his name,
But saints haue Churches swarming thicke, in euerie streete and lane.
Christ still doth keepe his poore estate, but Paule and Peter there,
In wealth doe Cræsus farre surmount, and eke in costly gere.
The ymage of our Ladie doth King Salomon excell,
And painted Iames with Midas may in show be matched well.
Yet all their trust is not in saintes, whom though they worship all,
Yet dare they not commit their liues, into their handes to fall:
So that no ankar holde they haue, but hange amid the skie,
And downeward list they not to fall, nor can they vpwarde flie:
But tost and tumbled here and there, with blastes of boystrous windes,
They haue no place to rest or stay, their wauering doubtfull mindes.
By their good deedes they onely thinke, the heauens for to take,
And in themselues good hope they haue, if prayers long they make:
And tire their tongues with mumbling vaine, and endlesse pattering,
Or Coocoolike continually, one kinde of musike sing.
A merit great they count it here, to keepe their fasting dayes,
And eate no flesh, nor egges, nor milke, nor whitemeate any wayes.
But fill their bellies full of fishe, of euery daintie kinde,
For these good deedes they thinke that God will leaue his angrie minde:
And places in the heauen giue, whereas he will them blesse,
With meete rewardes for authors such, of so great righteousnesse.
And if they almose giue and breade, to such as are in neede,
Or ragged clothes, they strayte suppose to haue heauen for their meede.
If any thing to Monkes they giue, or on the Church bestow,
Or of their proper charges builde a Chappell fayre of show:
And finde a Prest to sing a Masse, therein continually,
Than looke they wondrously aloft, and surely thinke thereby,
Aboue the heauens bright in ioye, for euermore to liue,
The Lorde himselfe can scarce deuise a iust rewarde to giue,
If they to holy places go, and for religion sake,
Unto the ymage of some saint, they painfull iourneys make,
Into the coastes of Syria, or desart places great
Of Egipt, they doe sure suppose, that for this worthie feate,
They are absolude from all their sinnes, as cleere and free beside,
As is the dogge from duskish Fleas, amid the sommer tide.
For to their merites so they trust, and swell so much withall,
That no man able is to make, their loftie minde to fall.
Thence ioyfully they doe returne, beset with Skallop shelles,
Their cloakes and hattes hangde rounde about, as if it were with belles
With Images of leade and tinne, which they in euery coast,
Doe blase abroade, and of their great desartes and merites boast.
All things they here for merites doe, and all that in them lies,
They seeke in euery thing to haue, some merite to arise:
For by the same they thinke their sinnes, are here forgiuen quight,
And that they finde the certaine way, that leades to heauen right.
Wherefore if of their owne they want, as they haue little store,
They go and buy of other men, that commonly haue more.
But specially of Monkes that haue the merites chiefe to sell,
Sufficient both to keepe themselues, and other men from hell.
I saw a Gallye painted once, that was both large and tall,
That driuen forth with pleasant windes, and happie course withall,
The raging seas and waues of this same tombling worlde did cut,
And sayled out to heauen gates, that presently were shut.
Hir fraught was onely Friers and Monkes, and on the spardecks hie,
Were all the chiefest members of the wicked papacie.
The people with their Saren Priestes, euen at the poynt to drowne,
Amid the wilde and wofull seas, were swimming vp and downe,
And holding vp their wearie handes, with plaint and pitious crie,
They calde vpon the holy Monkes, that in the Galley lye.
The Monkes cast ouer borde their ores, and out their Cables threw,
And catching diuers in this sort, a few to ship they drew,
Whereby that none without the ayde, of Monkes are saude you see,
But drowned in the Stygian streames, and hellish waters bee.
All such as are not Monkes or saued by their merites heare,
Or in their ship, and this makes fooles to buy their merites deare
Yet dare they not commit their liues, into their handes to fall:
So that no ankar holde they haue, but hange amid the skie,
And downeward list they not to fall, nor can they vpwarde flie:
But tost and tumbled here and there, with blastes of boystrous windes,
They haue no place to rest or stay, their wauering doubtfull mindes.
By their good deedes they onely thinke, the heauens for to take,
And in themselues good hope they haue, if prayers long they make:
And tire their tongues with mumbling vaine, and endlesse pattering,
Or Coocoolike continually, one kinde of musike sing.
A merit great they count it here, to keepe their fasting dayes,
And eate no flesh, nor egges, nor milke, nor whitemeate any wayes.
But fill their bellies full of fishe, of euery daintie kinde,
For these good deedes they thinke that God will leaue his angrie minde:
And places in the heauen giue, whereas he will them blesse,
With meete rewardes for authors such, of so great righteousnesse.
And if they almose giue and breade, to such as are in neede,
Or ragged clothes, they strayte suppose to haue heauen for their meede.
If any thing to Monkes they giue, or on the Church bestow,
Or of their proper charges builde a Chappell fayre of show:
And finde a Prest to sing a Masse, therein continually,
Than looke they wondrously aloft, and surely thinke thereby,
[40]
The Lorde himselfe can scarce deuise a iust rewarde to giue,
If they to holy places go, and for religion sake,
Unto the ymage of some saint, they painfull iourneys make,
Into the coastes of Syria, or desart places great
Of Egipt, they doe sure suppose, that for this worthie feate,
They are absolude from all their sinnes, as cleere and free beside,
As is the dogge from duskish Fleas, amid the sommer tide.
For to their merites so they trust, and swell so much withall,
That no man able is to make, their loftie minde to fall.
Thence ioyfully they doe returne, beset with Skallop shelles,
Their cloakes and hattes hangde rounde about, as if it were with belles
With Images of leade and tinne, which they in euery coast,
Doe blase abroade, and of their great desartes and merites boast.
All things they here for merites doe, and all that in them lies,
They seeke in euery thing to haue, some merite to arise:
For by the same they thinke their sinnes, are here forgiuen quight,
And that they finde the certaine way, that leades to heauen right.
Wherefore if of their owne they want, as they haue little store,
They go and buy of other men, that commonly haue more.
But specially of Monkes that haue the merites chiefe to sell,
Sufficient both to keepe themselues, and other men from hell.
I saw a Gallye painted once, that was both large and tall,
That driuen forth with pleasant windes, and happie course withall,
The raging seas and waues of this same tombling worlde did cut,
And sayled out to heauen gates, that presently were shut.
Hir fraught was onely Friers and Monkes, and on the spardecks hie,
Were all the chiefest members of the wicked papacie.
The people with their Saren Priestes, euen at the poynt to drowne,
Amid the wilde and wofull seas, were swimming vp and downe,
And holding vp their wearie handes, with plaint and pitious crie,
They calde vpon the holy Monkes, that in the Galley lye.
The Monkes cast ouer borde their ores, and out their Cables threw,
And catching diuers in this sort, a few to ship they drew,
Whereby that none without the ayde, of Monkes are saude you see,
But drowned in the Stygian streames, and hellish waters bee.
41
Or in their ship, and this makes fooles to buy their merites deare
Nor yet the minde is satisfide, nor heart in quiet lyes,
Of such as seeke to liue by workes, and Christ do thus dispise.
Wherfore, the Pope them Pardons sels, & graunts them grace at will,
And giues for golde the deedes of Saints, to purge away their ill.
No foole the Pope that by this fraude such treasure great inioyes,
But fooles are they that him beleue, and giue their goodes for toyes.
According to the Prouerbe thus, the cloth must still be shorne,
Least it should hap to be consumde with mothes, and all to torne.
In Christ alone they will not trust, therefore they worthilie
Doe buy such lyes, and for the same do giue such prises hie:
And know not where to set their foote, but here and there do ronne,
And alwayes doubt in euery thing, if they enough haue donne.
This birding hath the people spoylde, and euery realme beside,
And of the Pope the hungrie mawe hath fully satisfide,
Who vseth euermore to sell the reigne of heauen hie,
To euery man that offers golde, and willing is to buie.
Amid the Church there placed standes a Chest with yron bound,
Made fast behinde with Chaynes of force, vnto some Piller round:
A narrow mouth it hath, wherein a Testorne scarce will go,
Then furnish they the Pulpet with some bawling Frier tho,
Or others that are voyde of shame, and care not what they say,
Who may extoll their Pardon there, and shewe what men shall pay,
Perswading euery man, that hath regard the skyes to gaine,
And for to haue their sinnes releast with little price and paine,
And for to haue the soules drawne out of flame departed heare,
Of father, mother, grandsire, wife, or any kinsman deare:
That they remember well the Box, and money fast do bring,
For them and theirs, not letting slip so hie and great a thing.
Who would not here preserue himselfe, and set at libertie,
Both him and his with summes, from wrath of him that rules the skie,
If these deceyuers tolde the truth, with earnest minde and will,
And did not with these falsehoodes, both the soule and bodie kill?
The people thus perswaded all, bring in their pence apace,
And giues their money vnto them, that neere the Boxe haue place.
Who, lest suspition might arise of iugling or deceat,
Do with their seales and writing both, confirme this pardon great:
And take the name of such as buy, and those for whom they buie.
Both of the men that liue, and such as long before did die.
The man reioyceing goeth his way, vnskilfull of the guile,
Though both himselfe and eke his soule he therewith doth beguile.
They on the other side do laugh, enioying thus their pray,
And neyther here the liuing, nor the dead a whit do way.
Herein where doth the hope appeare, of sinnes forgiuen quight
By Christ, and life obtayned here, and Sathan put to flight?
Of such as seeke to liue by workes, and Christ do thus dispise.
Wherfore, the Pope them Pardons sels, & graunts them grace at will,
And giues for golde the deedes of Saints, to purge away their ill.
No foole the Pope that by this fraude such treasure great inioyes,
But fooles are they that him beleue, and giue their goodes for toyes.
According to the Prouerbe thus, the cloth must still be shorne,
Least it should hap to be consumde with mothes, and all to torne.
In Christ alone they will not trust, therefore they worthilie
Doe buy such lyes, and for the same do giue such prises hie:
And know not where to set their foote, but here and there do ronne,
And alwayes doubt in euery thing, if they enough haue donne.
This birding hath the people spoylde, and euery realme beside,
And of the Pope the hungrie mawe hath fully satisfide,
Who vseth euermore to sell the reigne of heauen hie,
To euery man that offers golde, and willing is to buie.
Amid the Church there placed standes a Chest with yron bound,
Made fast behinde with Chaynes of force, vnto some Piller round:
A narrow mouth it hath, wherein a Testorne scarce will go,
Then furnish they the Pulpet with some bawling Frier tho,
Or others that are voyde of shame, and care not what they say,
Who may extoll their Pardon there, and shewe what men shall pay,
Perswading euery man, that hath regard the skyes to gaine,
And for to haue their sinnes releast with little price and paine,
And for to haue the soules drawne out of flame departed heare,
Of father, mother, grandsire, wife, or any kinsman deare:
That they remember well the Box, and money fast do bring,
For them and theirs, not letting slip so hie and great a thing.
Who would not here preserue himselfe, and set at libertie,
Both him and his with summes, from wrath of him that rules the skie,
If these deceyuers tolde the truth, with earnest minde and will,
And did not with these falsehoodes, both the soule and bodie kill?
The people thus perswaded all, bring in their pence apace,
And giues their money vnto them, that neere the Boxe haue place.
[41]
Do with their seales and writing both, confirme this pardon great:
And take the name of such as buy, and those for whom they buie.
Both of the men that liue, and such as long before did die.
The man reioyceing goeth his way, vnskilfull of the guile,
Though both himselfe and eke his soule he therewith doth beguile.
They on the other side do laugh, enioying thus their pray,
And neyther here the liuing, nor the dead a whit do way.
Herein where doth the hope appeare, of sinnes forgiuen quight
By Christ, and life obtayned here, and Sathan put to flight?
Perhaps thou thinkest now their heartes are fully satisfide,
And that so many merits bought, no further they prouide.
Thou art deceyude: in euery Church are painted Tables founde,
That fastned are vnto the walles, or to the pillars rounde.
Wherein the Uirgin Marie fayre is counterfeyted right,
Or else the Sauiour liuely drawne, appeares before the sight.
Their Images are also made, and caruen cunninglie,
Where written haue the holy members of the Papacie,
Whosoeuer doth before this Image here deuoutly pray,
And on his Beades the Pater and the Aue Mary say,
He hath forgiuenesse of his sinnes, and pardon of his paine,
Which pardon doth for many yeares in vertue full remaine.
To this on euery side they runne, and worship reuerentlie,
While as with bodie prostrate on the ground, in dust they lie.
Is not this same the worshipping of Idols very plaine
Forbidden, by the worde of him that guides the starrie raigne?
And that so many merits bought, no further they prouide.
Thou art deceyude: in euery Church are painted Tables founde,
That fastned are vnto the walles, or to the pillars rounde.
Wherein the Uirgin Marie fayre is counterfeyted right,
Or else the Sauiour liuely drawne, appeares before the sight.
Their Images are also made, and caruen cunninglie,
Where written haue the holy members of the Papacie,
Whosoeuer doth before this Image here deuoutly pray,
And on his Beades the Pater and the Aue Mary say,
He hath forgiuenesse of his sinnes, and pardon of his paine,
Which pardon doth for many yeares in vertue full remaine.
To this on euery side they runne, and worship reuerentlie,
While as with bodie prostrate on the ground, in dust they lie.
Is not this same the worshipping of Idols very plaine
Forbidden, by the worde of him that guides the starrie raigne?
If that the thunder chaunce to rore, and stormie tempest shake,
A woonder is it for to see the wretches howe they quake,
Howe that no fayth at all they haue, nor trust in any thing,
The Clarke doth all the Belles forthwith at once in Steeple ring:
With wondrous sound and deeper farre, than he was woont before,
Till in the loftie heauens darke, the thunder bray no more.
For in these Christned belles they thinke, doth lie such powre & might,
As able is the tempest great, and storme to vanquish quight.
I sawe my selfe at Numburg once, a towne in Toring coast,
A Bell that with this title bolde, hir selfe did prowdly boast,
By name I Mary called am, with sound I put to flight
The thunder crackes, and hurtfull stormes, and euery wicked spright.
Such things when as these Belles can do, no wonder certainlie
It is, if that the Papistes to their tolling alwayes flie.
When haile, or any raging storme, or tempest comes in sight,
Or thunder boltes, or lightning fierce that euery place doth smight:
Besides they Candles vp do light, of vertue like in all,
And Willow braunches hallow, that they Palmes do vse to call.
This done they verily beleeue, the tempest nor the storme,
Can neyther hurt themselues, nor yet their cattell, nor their corne.
But some there be, and not a few, that dare not well commit
Their liues to this, but vnderneath the starres they seeke to sit,
For there (they say) the lightning can no kinde of creature smight,
Nor fall vpon the feeble corse of any fearefull wight.
There are that hide themselues in Caues, and vnder ground do lie,
When as they heare the roring sound, and rumbling in the skie.
Where here appeares the confidence, and trust vnto the hiest?
And hope in all aduersitie cast wholy vpon Christ?
Where doe they here commit themselues, and all that they possesse,
Unto the will of God, as in theyr wordes they do expresse?
Are not these Papistes Catholikes, and men appoynted well,
That are defended in the stormes, by sounde of brasen Bell?
And steps of stayres, and braunches burnt, wt flames encompast round,
And Candels light, and Caues, & dennes made vnderneath the ground?
Such Gods, and such defenders here, the heathen woont to haue,
To whom in all their daunger they did flie themselues to saue.
A woonder is it for to see the wretches howe they quake,
Howe that no fayth at all they haue, nor trust in any thing,
The Clarke doth all the Belles forthwith at once in Steeple ring:
With wondrous sound and deeper farre, than he was woont before,
Till in the loftie heauens darke, the thunder bray no more.
For in these Christned belles they thinke, doth lie such powre & might,
As able is the tempest great, and storme to vanquish quight.
I sawe my selfe at Numburg once, a towne in Toring coast,
A Bell that with this title bolde, hir selfe did prowdly boast,
42
The thunder crackes, and hurtfull stormes, and euery wicked spright.
Such things when as these Belles can do, no wonder certainlie
It is, if that the Papistes to their tolling alwayes flie.
When haile, or any raging storme, or tempest comes in sight,
Or thunder boltes, or lightning fierce that euery place doth smight:
Besides they Candles vp do light, of vertue like in all,
And Willow braunches hallow, that they Palmes do vse to call.
This done they verily beleeue, the tempest nor the storme,
Can neyther hurt themselues, nor yet their cattell, nor their corne.
But some there be, and not a few, that dare not well commit
Their liues to this, but vnderneath the starres they seeke to sit,
For there (they say) the lightning can no kinde of creature smight,
Nor fall vpon the feeble corse of any fearefull wight.
There are that hide themselues in Caues, and vnder ground do lie,
When as they heare the roring sound, and rumbling in the skie.
Where here appeares the confidence, and trust vnto the hiest?
And hope in all aduersitie cast wholy vpon Christ?
Where doe they here commit themselues, and all that they possesse,
Unto the will of God, as in theyr wordes they do expresse?
Are not these Papistes Catholikes, and men appoynted well,
That are defended in the stormes, by sounde of brasen Bell?
And steps of stayres, and braunches burnt, wt flames encompast round,
And Candels light, and Caues, & dennes made vnderneath the ground?
Such Gods, and such defenders here, the heathen woont to haue,
To whom in all their daunger they did flie themselues to saue.
Besides they doe beleeue their sinnes to be forgiuen quight,
By taking holy water here, whereof if there do light
But one small drop, it driueth out the hellishe deuils all,
Then which there can no greater griefe vnto the feend befall.
Therefore they oftentymes do hurle and cast abrode the same,
Both on the people, and themselues, and Papistes chiefe of name:
Whose learning is aboue the rest, with willing mindes prepare,
To take the drops vpon their handes, and heads, vncouered bare:
And euermore amidst the Church, and in the Porch beside,
There standes a Sprinckle, and a stocke, wherewith they may prouide,
To driue away the fearefull feende, and to resist their strife,
And for to wash away the sinnes, and faultes of wicked life.
This water also caryed is into their houses all,
Wherewith they sprinckle chambers, beds, and euery rotten wall.
No man doth passe his thresholde, but before he goes abroade,
Him selfe, and all his garments are, with holy water stroade.
The vse thereof is very great, almost in euery thing,
And wonder none when as it doth such force and vertue bring.
The common people also licke vp salt, vnto this ende,
And giue it to their children, and their cattell, to defende
And keepe them, that the Deuill haue no power to do them harme,
Nor any mischiefe on them light, nor any cursed charme.
What neede haue these same men of Christ, that with so little paine,
Can do such wondrous workes, and to such matters great attaine?
They driue oüt sprites, and wipe away eche sinfull crime and fault,
With little drops of water cleare, or eating vp of sault.
By taking holy water here, whereof if there do light
But one small drop, it driueth out the hellishe deuils all,
Then which there can no greater griefe vnto the feend befall.
Therefore they oftentymes do hurle and cast abrode the same,
Both on the people, and themselues, and Papistes chiefe of name:
Whose learning is aboue the rest, with willing mindes prepare,
To take the drops vpon their handes, and heads, vncouered bare:
And euermore amidst the Church, and in the Porch beside,
There standes a Sprinckle, and a stocke, wherewith they may prouide,
[42]
And for to wash away the sinnes, and faultes of wicked life.
This water also caryed is into their houses all,
Wherewith they sprinckle chambers, beds, and euery rotten wall.
No man doth passe his thresholde, but before he goes abroade,
Him selfe, and all his garments are, with holy water stroade.
The vse thereof is very great, almost in euery thing,
And wonder none when as it doth such force and vertue bring.
The common people also licke vp salt, vnto this ende,
And giue it to their children, and their cattell, to defende
And keepe them, that the Deuill haue no power to do them harme,
Nor any mischiefe on them light, nor any cursed charme.
What neede haue these same men of Christ, that with so little paine,
Can do such wondrous workes, and to such matters great attaine?
They driue oüt sprites, and wipe away eche sinfull crime and fault,
With little drops of water cleare, or eating vp of sault.
Yet fully trust they not to this, nor therewith are content,
But desperation many of them doth wretchedly torment,
Bicause they finde not here sufficient comfort perfitelie
Agaynst theyr sinnes, the paynes of hell, and wrath of God on hie:
Therefore to Monkry after all, do flie this people blinde,
Supposing that herein consistes the perfite peace of minde,
And that our sinnes with foolish Cowles, and deedes are done away,
That vnto euerlasting life it is the surest stay.
If bound vnto their treble vowe, they keepe their fasting dayes,
And prayers long appoynted them, and other foolish playes,
And all their life long from the vse of tender bathes they flie,
And in their seuerall Sels, as do the Monkes Carthusian lie.
But others in their aged yeares, and readie now to die,
Especially the learnde and rich, and kings and princes hie:
Do flie vnto S. Fraunces Cowle, as men beside their minde,
Whereby of all their sinnes they thinke forgiuenesse for to finde:
None otherwise than if at Font they tooke their Christ endome,
And borne a new to righteousnesse, and perfite life should come.
So with this sacred weede, they thinke most surely to appeare
Before the face of God, with hope most vaine deceyued heare.
Though all their tyme before were spent in beastly wickednesse,
Without the Lorde and Christ, by whom we onely life possesse.
Nowe tell me, doth this fayth and hope seeme Catholike to bee,
And with the perfit worde of God and scriptures to agree?
Yet do not all these Saints auaile, nor merits dearly solde,
Nor mans good workes, nor Pardons, Masse, nor all that I have tolde.
They doubt as yet if that their sinnes be clearely put away,
Or whether God his angrie moode, and furie, doth allay:
Euen as the Turkes and Infidels before haue alwayes donne,
And euery wicked nation, and people vnder Sonne.
For looke howe they doe ende their life, their sinnes they do confesse
Unto the Priest, and are absolude from all their wickednesse:
According to their Pardons bought, which if they chaunce to lacke,
Their merits and their owne good workes, are cast vpon their backe,
And all the paynes and punishments that hath vpon them light,
In recompence whereof, their sinnes are them forgiuen quight.
Besides the very bodie of Christ, they take into their mawes,
Agaynst the Deuill, and of hell the tooth and greedie iawes:
Whereby they also may be safe from that infernall paine
Of Purgatorie flame, that they themselues doe falsly faine.
Yet more, the Saints being calde to helpe, they are anneald at length,
A medcine not to be dispisde, of vertue great and strength
Agaynst both sinne and raging death, the rest I ouerslide,
That euery man doth for his soule here carefully prouide.
Yet quiet are they not with this, nor can they boldely say,
That all their sinnes forgiuen are, and clearely done away,
Nor that the Lorde is pacifide, and pleased with them well,
And they deliuered perfitely, from powre of death and hell.
They doubt, they tremble, and they feare, that somthing yet remaines
Of their offences, and the wrath of God with dreadfull paynes.
Therefore they will that after death, a solemne obsequie
Be made, with Dyrge song both day and night continuallie.
Sixe hundreth Masses to be sayd, and Lapers burning bright,
And Monkes, and Priestes with them to go to graue in doolefull plight,
By whose good prayers their hellishe paynes may there released bee,
And soules there hence mount to the skie, where naught is else but glee.
They also hier folkes to say the Psalter speedily,
And money vnto Churches giue, and to the pouerty,
And vnto Monkes and other Priestes, who dayly haue this gaine,
With prayers and merits to set free the guiltie soule from paine:
And bring them to eternall ioy, to this belongs alwayes,
That they at euery seuennights ende, and euery thirtie dayes,
And at the ende of euery yeare, doe here commaund and will,
Their offrings, and their ceremonies, to be obserued still.
So little hope and trust they haue eternall life to gaine,
Or to obtaine his fauour, that doth guide the starrie raigne.
For ignoraunt of Christ they are, and of his office hie,
His merits here, and wherefore on the Crosse so painfullie
He suffred death, and rose againe, O miserable men,
That wauer still, and haue no certaine hope nor fayth in them,
What ende is dewe? what recompence doth here remaine behinde
But onely iust damnation, for this their doubtfull minde?
But all the popishe sort doth doubt, and teach men eke to doubt,
If we be righteous, if our sinnes be cleerely blotted out:
If that the father fauour vs, and through his onely sonne,
Hath made vs heare his heyres of euerlasting life to come.
And thinkst thou these are Catholikes? or Church of Christ aright,
That hearken not to Christ, but ouerthrow his triumph quight,
And eke his death, and rather had to euery creature flie,
Than vnto him that hath the rule of euery thing from hie?
I had as lieue the Turkish lawe and doctrine to professe,
As with the papist to beleue, that teach such wickednesse.
What matter is it whether sect thou folowest in thy workes,
For papistes do no more beleue in Christ, than do the Turkes.
The Fayth of both is fonde and vaine, and both alike in showe,
The name alone of Christ and all his doings here do knowe.
In worship, life, and fayth, they doe his powre and force deny,
And do dispise his benifites, and cast them cleerely by.
But desperation many of them doth wretchedly torment,
Bicause they finde not here sufficient comfort perfitelie
Agaynst theyr sinnes, the paynes of hell, and wrath of God on hie:
Therefore to Monkry after all, do flie this people blinde,
Supposing that herein consistes the perfite peace of minde,
And that our sinnes with foolish Cowles, and deedes are done away,
That vnto euerlasting life it is the surest stay.
If bound vnto their treble vowe, they keepe their fasting dayes,
And prayers long appoynted them, and other foolish playes,
And all their life long from the vse of tender bathes they flie,
And in their seuerall Sels, as do the Monkes Carthusian lie.
But others in their aged yeares, and readie now to die,
Especially the learnde and rich, and kings and princes hie:
Do flie vnto S. Fraunces Cowle, as men beside their minde,
Whereby of all their sinnes they thinke forgiuenesse for to finde:
None otherwise than if at Font they tooke their Christ endome,
And borne a new to righteousnesse, and perfite life should come.
So with this sacred weede, they thinke most surely to appeare
Before the face of God, with hope most vaine deceyued heare.
43
Without the Lorde and Christ, by whom we onely life possesse.
Nowe tell me, doth this fayth and hope seeme Catholike to bee,
And with the perfit worde of God and scriptures to agree?
Yet do not all these Saints auaile, nor merits dearly solde,
Nor mans good workes, nor Pardons, Masse, nor all that I have tolde.
They doubt as yet if that their sinnes be clearely put away,
Or whether God his angrie moode, and furie, doth allay:
Euen as the Turkes and Infidels before haue alwayes donne,
And euery wicked nation, and people vnder Sonne.
For looke howe they doe ende their life, their sinnes they do confesse
Unto the Priest, and are absolude from all their wickednesse:
According to their Pardons bought, which if they chaunce to lacke,
Their merits and their owne good workes, are cast vpon their backe,
And all the paynes and punishments that hath vpon them light,
In recompence whereof, their sinnes are them forgiuen quight.
Besides the very bodie of Christ, they take into their mawes,
Agaynst the Deuill, and of hell the tooth and greedie iawes:
Whereby they also may be safe from that infernall paine
Of Purgatorie flame, that they themselues doe falsly faine.
Yet more, the Saints being calde to helpe, they are anneald at length,
A medcine not to be dispisde, of vertue great and strength
Agaynst both sinne and raging death, the rest I ouerslide,
That euery man doth for his soule here carefully prouide.
Yet quiet are they not with this, nor can they boldely say,
That all their sinnes forgiuen are, and clearely done away,
Nor that the Lorde is pacifide, and pleased with them well,
And they deliuered perfitely, from powre of death and hell.
They doubt, they tremble, and they feare, that somthing yet remaines
Of their offences, and the wrath of God with dreadfull paynes.
Therefore they will that after death, a solemne obsequie
Be made, with Dyrge song both day and night continuallie.
Sixe hundreth Masses to be sayd, and Lapers burning bright,
And Monkes, and Priestes with them to go to graue in doolefull plight,
By whose good prayers their hellishe paynes may there released bee,
And soules there hence mount to the skie, where naught is else but glee.
[43]
And money vnto Churches giue, and to the pouerty,
And vnto Monkes and other Priestes, who dayly haue this gaine,
With prayers and merits to set free the guiltie soule from paine:
And bring them to eternall ioy, to this belongs alwayes,
That they at euery seuennights ende, and euery thirtie dayes,
And at the ende of euery yeare, doe here commaund and will,
Their offrings, and their ceremonies, to be obserued still.
So little hope and trust they haue eternall life to gaine,
Or to obtaine his fauour, that doth guide the starrie raigne.
For ignoraunt of Christ they are, and of his office hie,
His merits here, and wherefore on the Crosse so painfullie
He suffred death, and rose againe, O miserable men,
That wauer still, and haue no certaine hope nor fayth in them,
What ende is dewe? what recompence doth here remaine behinde
But onely iust damnation, for this their doubtfull minde?
But all the popishe sort doth doubt, and teach men eke to doubt,
If we be righteous, if our sinnes be cleerely blotted out:
If that the father fauour vs, and through his onely sonne,
Hath made vs heare his heyres of euerlasting life to come.
And thinkst thou these are Catholikes? or Church of Christ aright,
That hearken not to Christ, but ouerthrow his triumph quight,
And eke his death, and rather had to euery creature flie,
Than vnto him that hath the rule of euery thing from hie?
I had as lieue the Turkish lawe and doctrine to professe,
As with the papist to beleue, that teach such wickednesse.
What matter is it whether sect thou folowest in thy workes,
For papistes do no more beleue in Christ, than do the Turkes.
The Fayth of both is fonde and vaine, and both alike in showe,
The name alone of Christ and all his doings here do knowe.
In worship, life, and fayth, they doe his powre and force deny,
And do dispise his benifites, and cast them cleerely by.
44
The fourth booke.
As
Papistes doe beleue and teach the vaynest things that bee,
So with their doctrine and their fayth, their life doth iump agree.
Their feasts & all their holidayes they kepe throughout the yeare
Are full of vile Idolatrie, and heathenlike appeare:
Whereby though they do nothing teach, but should their doctrine hide.
(Which yet in volumes more than one, may openly be spide)
Thou easily mayst knowe whether true Catholikes they bee,
And onely trust in Christ, and keepe th'assured veritee.
Be therefore here a perfite Iudge, and all things warely way,
With equall ballance, for before thine eyes I here will lay
Most plainly, though not all (for who is able that to tell,)
But such as best are knowne to vs in Germanie that dwell.
And ficst betwixt the dayes they make no little difference,
For all be not of vertue like, nor like preheminence,
But some of them Egyptian are, and full of ieopardee,
And some againe beside the rest, both good and luckie bee.
Like diffrence of the nights they make, as if th'almightie king,
That made them all, not gracious were to them in euery thing.
Beside they giue attentiue eare to blinde Astronomars,
About th'aspects in euery howre of sundrie shining stars:
And vnderneath what Planet euery man is borne and bred,
What good or euill fortune doth hang ouer euery hed.
Hereby they thinke assuredly to know what shall befall,
As men that haue no perfite fayth nor trust in God at all:
But thinke that euery thing is wrought and wholy guided here,
By moouing of the Planets, and the whirling of the Speare.
No vaine they pearse nor enter in the bathes at any day,
Nor pare their nayles, nor from their hed do cut the heare away:
They also put no childe to nurse, nor mend with doung their ground,
Nor medicine do receyue to make their crased bodies sound,
Nor any other thing they do, but earnestly before
They marke the Moone how she is placde, and standeth euermore:
And euery planet howe they rise, and set in eche degree,
Which things vnto the perfite fayth of Christ repugnant bee.
Which first I showe, least in my course I should be driuen plaine,
To call to minde these foolishe toyes, now to my theame againe.
So with their doctrine and their fayth, their life doth iump agree.
Their feasts & all their holidayes they kepe throughout the yeare
Are full of vile Idolatrie, and heathenlike appeare:
Whereby though they do nothing teach, but should their doctrine hide.
(Which yet in volumes more than one, may openly be spide)
Thou easily mayst knowe whether true Catholikes they bee,
And onely trust in Christ, and keepe th'assured veritee.
Be therefore here a perfite Iudge, and all things warely way,
With equall ballance, for before thine eyes I here will lay
Most plainly, though not all (for who is able that to tell,)
But such as best are knowne to vs in Germanie that dwell.
And ficst betwixt the dayes they make no little difference,
For all be not of vertue like, nor like preheminence,
But some of them Egyptian are, and full of ieopardee,
And some againe beside the rest, both good and luckie bee.
Like diffrence of the nights they make, as if th'almightie king,
That made them all, not gracious were to them in euery thing.
Beside they giue attentiue eare to blinde Astronomars,
About th'aspects in euery howre of sundrie shining stars:
And vnderneath what Planet euery man is borne and bred,
What good or euill fortune doth hang ouer euery hed.
Hereby they thinke assuredly to know what shall befall,
As men that haue no perfite fayth nor trust in God at all:
But thinke that euery thing is wrought and wholy guided here,
By moouing of the Planets, and the whirling of the Speare.
No vaine they pearse nor enter in the bathes at any day,
Nor pare their nayles, nor from their hed do cut the heare away:
They also put no childe to nurse, nor mend with doung their ground,
Nor medicine do receyue to make their crased bodies sound,
Nor any other thing they do, but earnestly before
They marke the Moone how she is placde, and standeth euermore:
[44]
Which things vnto the perfite fayth of Christ repugnant bee.
Which first I showe, least in my course I should be driuen plaine,
To call to minde these foolishe toyes, now to my theame againe.
Three weekes before the day whereon was borne the Lorde of grace,
And on the Thursday Boyes and Girles do runne in euery place,
And bounce and beate at euery doore, with blowes and lustie snaps,
And crie, the aduent of the Lorde not borne as yet perhaps.
And wishing to the neighbours all, that in the houses dwell,
A happie yeare, and euery thing to spring and prosper well:
Here haue they peares, and plumbs, & pence, ech man giues willinglee,
For these three nightes are alwayes thought, vnfortunate to bee:
Wherein they are afrayde of sprites, and cankred witches spight,
And dreadfull deuils blacke and grim, that then haue chiefest might.
In these same dayes yong wanton Gyrles that meete for mariage [illeg.]ee,
Doe search to know the names of them that shall their husbandes bee.
Foure Onyons, fiue, or eight, they take and make in euery one,
Such names as they do fansie most, and best do thinke vpon.
Thus neere the Chimney them they set, and that same Onyon than,
That first doth sproute, doth surely beare the name of their good man.
Their husbandes nature eke they seeke to know, and all his guise,
When as the Sunne hath hid himselfe, and left the starrie skies,
Unto some woodstacke do they go, and while they there do stande,
Eche one drawes out a faggot sticke, the next that commes to hande,
Which if it streight and euen be, and haue no knots at all,
A gentle husband then they thinke shall surely to them fall.
But if it fowle and crooked be, and knottie here and theare,
A crabbed churlish husband then, they earnestly do feare.
These things the wicked Papistes beare, and suffer willingly,
Bicause they neyther do the ende, nor fruites of faith espie:
And rather had the people should obey their foolish lust,
Than truely God to know, and in him here alone to trust.
And on the Thursday Boyes and Girles do runne in euery place,
And bounce and beate at euery doore, with blowes and lustie snaps,
And crie, the aduent of the Lorde not borne as yet perhaps.
And wishing to the neighbours all, that in the houses dwell,
A happie yeare, and euery thing to spring and prosper well:
Here haue they peares, and plumbs, & pence, ech man giues willinglee,
For these three nightes are alwayes thought, vnfortunate to bee:
Wherein they are afrayde of sprites, and cankred witches spight,
And dreadfull deuils blacke and grim, that then haue chiefest might.
In these same dayes yong wanton Gyrles that meete for mariage [illeg.]ee,
Doe search to know the names of them that shall their husbandes bee.
Foure Onyons, fiue, or eight, they take and make in euery one,
Such names as they do fansie most, and best do thinke vpon.
Thus neere the Chimney them they set, and that same Onyon than,
That first doth sproute, doth surely beare the name of their good man.
Their husbandes nature eke they seeke to know, and all his guise,
When as the Sunne hath hid himselfe, and left the starrie skies,
Unto some woodstacke do they go, and while they there do stande,
Eche one drawes out a faggot sticke, the next that commes to hande,
Which if it streight and euen be, and haue no knots at all,
A gentle husband then they thinke shall surely to them fall.
But if it fowle and crooked be, and knottie here and theare,
A crabbed churlish husband then, they earnestly do feare.
These things the wicked Papistes beare, and suffer willingly,
Bicause they neyther do the ende, nor fruites of faith espie:
And rather had the people should obey their foolish lust,
Than truely God to know, and in him here alone to trust.
Then comes the day wherein the Lorde did bring his birth to passe,
Whereas at midnight vp they rise, and euery man to Masse.
This time so holy counted is, that diuers earnestly
Do thinke the waters all to wine are chaunged sodainly:
In that same houre that Christ himselfe was borne, and came to light,
And vnto water streight againe, transformde and altred quight.
There are beside that mindfully the money still do watch,
That first to aultar commes, which then they priuily do snatch.
The Priestes least other should it haue, takes oft the same away,
Whereby they thinke throughout the yeare to haue good lucke in play,
And not to lose: then straight at game till daylight do they striue,
To make some present proofe how well their hallowde pence wil thriue.
Three Masses euery Priest doth sing vpon that solemne day,
With offrings vnto euery one, that so the more may play.
This done, a woodden childe in clowtes is on the aultar set
About the which both boyes and gyrles do daunce and trymly iet,
And Carrols sing in prayse of Christ, and for to helpe them heare,
The Organs aunswere euery verse, with sweete and solemne cheare.
The Priestes doe rore aloude, and round about the parentes stande,
To see the sport, and with their voyce do helpe them and their hande.
Thus woont the Coribants perhaps vpon the mountaine Ide,
The crying noyse of Iupiter new borne with song to hide,
To daunce about him round, and on their brasen pannes to beate,
Least that his father finding him, should him destroy and eate.
Whereas at midnight vp they rise, and euery man to Masse.
This time so holy counted is, that diuers earnestly
Do thinke the waters all to wine are chaunged sodainly:
45
And vnto water streight againe, transformde and altred quight.
There are beside that mindfully the money still do watch,
That first to aultar commes, which then they priuily do snatch.
The Priestes least other should it haue, takes oft the same away,
Whereby they thinke throughout the yeare to haue good lucke in play,
And not to lose: then straight at game till daylight do they striue,
To make some present proofe how well their hallowde pence wil thriue.
Three Masses euery Priest doth sing vpon that solemne day,
With offrings vnto euery one, that so the more may play.
This done, a woodden childe in clowtes is on the aultar set
About the which both boyes and gyrles do daunce and trymly iet,
And Carrols sing in prayse of Christ, and for to helpe them heare,
The Organs aunswere euery verse, with sweete and solemne cheare.
The Priestes doe rore aloude, and round about the parentes stande,
To see the sport, and with their voyce do helpe them and their hande.
Thus woont the Coribants perhaps vpon the mountaine Ide,
The crying noyse of Iupiter new borne with song to hide,
To daunce about him round, and on their brasen pannes to beate,
Least that his father finding him, should him destroy and eate.
Then followeth Saint Stephens day, whereon doth euery man,
His horses iaunt and course abrode, as swiftly as he can.
Untill they doe extreemely sweate, and than they let them blood,
For this being done vpon this day, they say doth do them good,
And keepes them from all maladies and sicknesse through the yeare,
As if that Steuen any time tooke charge of horses heare.
His horses iaunt and course abrode, as swiftly as he can.
Untill they doe extreemely sweate, and than they let them blood,
For this being done vpon this day, they say doth do them good,
And keepes them from all maladies and sicknesse through the yeare,
As if that Steuen any time tooke charge of horses heare.
Next Iohn the sonne of Zebedee hath his appoynted day,
Who once by cruell tyraunts will, constrayned was they say
Strong poyson vp to drinke, therefore the Papistes doe beleeue,
That whoso puts their trust in him, no poyson them can greeue.
The wine beside that halowed is, in worship of his name,
The Priestes doe giue the people that bring money for the same.
And after with the selfe same wine are little manchets made,
Agaynst the boystrous winter stormes, and sundrie such like trade.
The men vpon this solemne day, do take this holy wine,
To make them strong, so do the maydes to make them faire and fine.
Who once by cruell tyraunts will, constrayned was they say
Strong poyson vp to drinke, therefore the Papistes doe beleeue,
That whoso puts their trust in him, no poyson them can greeue.
The wine beside that halowed is, in worship of his name,
The Priestes doe giue the people that bring money for the same.
And after with the selfe same wine are little manchets made,
Agaynst the boystrous winter stormes, and sundrie such like trade.
The men vpon this solemne day, do take this holy wine,
To make them strong, so do the maydes to make them faire and fine.
[45]
Then comes the day that calles to minde the cruell Herodes strife,
Who seeking Christ to kill, the king of euerlasting life,
Destroyde the little infants yong, a beast vnmercilesse,
And put to death all such as were of two yeares age or lesse.
To them the sinfull wretchesse crie, and earnestly do pray,
To get them pardon for their faultes, and wipe their sinnes away.
The Parentes when this day appeares, doe beate their children all,
(Though nothing they deserue) and seruaunts all to beating fall,
And Monkes do whip eche other well, or else their Prior great,
Or Abbot mad, doth take in hande their breeches all to beat:
In worship of these Innocents, or rather as we see,
In honour of the cursed king, that did this crueltee.
Who seeking Christ to kill, the king of euerlasting life,
Destroyde the little infants yong, a beast vnmercilesse,
And put to death all such as were of two yeares age or lesse.
To them the sinfull wretchesse crie, and earnestly do pray,
To get them pardon for their faultes, and wipe their sinnes away.
The Parentes when this day appeares, doe beate their children all,
(Though nothing they deserue) and seruaunts all to beating fall,
And Monkes do whip eche other well, or else their Prior great,
Or Abbot mad, doth take in hande their breeches all to beat:
In worship of these Innocents, or rather as we see,
In honour of the cursed king, that did this crueltee.
The next to this is Newyeares day, whereon to euery frende,
They costly presents in do bring, and Neweyeares giftes do sende.
These giftes the husband giues his wife, and father eke the childe,
And maister on his men bestowes the like, with fauour milde.
And good beginning of the yeare they wishe and wishe againe,
According to the auncient guise of heathen people vaine.
These eight dayes no man doth require his dettes of any man,
Their tables do they furnish out with all the meate they can:
With Marchpaynes, Tartes, & Custards great, they drink with staring eyes,
They rowte and reuell, feede and feast, as merry all as Pyes:
As if they should at th'entrance of this newe yeare hap to die,
Yet would they haue theyr bellyes full, and auncient friendes allie.
They costly presents in do bring, and Neweyeares giftes do sende.
These giftes the husband giues his wife, and father eke the childe,
And maister on his men bestowes the like, with fauour milde.
And good beginning of the yeare they wishe and wishe againe,
According to the auncient guise of heathen people vaine.
These eight dayes no man doth require his dettes of any man,
Their tables do they furnish out with all the meate they can:
With Marchpaynes, Tartes, & Custards great, they drink with staring eyes,
They rowte and reuell, feede and feast, as merry all as Pyes:
As if they should at th'entrance of this newe yeare hap to die,
Yet would they haue theyr bellyes full, and auncient friendes allie.
The wise mens day here foloweth, who out from Persia farre,
Brought gifts and presents vnto Christ, conducted by a starre.
The Papistes do beleeue that these were kings, and so them call,
And do affirme that of the same there were but three in all.
Here sundrie friendes togither come, and meete in companie,
And make a king amongst themselues by voyce or destinie:
Who after princely guise appoyntes, his officers alway,
Then vnto feasting doe they go, and long time after play:
Upon their bordes in order thicke the daintie dishes stande,
Till that their purses emptie be, and creditors at hande.
Their children herein follow them, and choosing princes here,
With pompe and great solemnitie, they meete and make good chere:
With money eyther got by stealth, or of their parents eft,
That so they may be traynde to knowe both ryot here and theft.
Then also euery housholder, to his abilitie,
Doth make a mightie Cake, that may suffice his companie:
Herein a pennie doth he put, before it come to fire,
This he deuides according as his housholde doth require,
And euery peece distributeth, as round about they stand,
Which in their names vnto the poore is giuen out of hand:
But who so chaunceth on the peece wherein the money lies,
Is counted king amongst them all, and is with showtes and cries
Exalted to the heauens vp, who taking chalke in hande,
Doth make a crosse on euery beame, and rafters as they stande:
Great force and powre haue these agaynst all iniuryes and harmes
Of cursed deuils, sprites, and bugges, of coniurings and charmes.
So much this king can do, so much the Crosses brings to passe,
Made by some seruant, maide, or childe, or by some foolish asse.
Twise sixe nightes then from Christmasse, they do count with diligence,
Wherein eche maister in his house doth burne vp Franckensence:
And on the Table settes a loafe, when night approcheth nere,
Before the Coles, and Franckensence to be perfumed there:
First bowing downe his heade he standes, and nose and eares, and eyes
He smokes, and with his mouth receyue the fume that doth arise:
Whom followeth streight his wife, and doth the same full solemly,
And of their children euery one, and all their family:
Which doth preserue they say their teeth, and nose, and eyes, and eare,
From euery kind of maladie, and sicknesse all the yeare.
When euery one receyued hath this odour great and small,
Then one takes vp the pan with Coales, and Franckensence and all,
An other takes the loafe, whom all the reast do follow here,
And round about the house they go, with torch or taper clere,
That neither bread nor meat do want, nor witch with dreadful charme,
Haue powre to hurt their children, or to do their cattell harme.
There are that three nightes onely do perfourme this foolish geare,
To this intent, and thinke themselues in safetie all the yeare.
To Christ dare none commit himselfe. And in these dayes beside,
They iudge what weather all the yeare shall happen and betide:
Ascribing to ech day a month, and at this present time,
The youth in euery place doe flocke, and all appareld fine,
With Pypars through the streetes they tunne, and sing at euery dore,
In commendation of the man, rewarded well therefore:
Which on themselues they do bestowe, or on the Church, as though
The people were not plagude with Roges and begging Friers enough.
There Cities are, where boyes and gyrles togither still do runne,
About the streete with like, as soone as night beginnes to come,
And bring abrode their wassell bowles, who well rewarded bee,
With Cakes and Cheese, and great good cheare, and money plentiouslee.
Brought gifts and presents vnto Christ, conducted by a starre.
The Papistes do beleeue that these were kings, and so them call,
And do affirme that of the same there were but three in all.
Here sundrie friendes togither come, and meete in companie,
And make a king amongst themselues by voyce or destinie:
Who after princely guise appoyntes, his officers alway,
Then vnto feasting doe they go, and long time after play:
Upon their bordes in order thicke the daintie dishes stande,
Till that their purses emptie be, and creditors at hande.
Their children herein follow them, and choosing princes here,
With pompe and great solemnitie, they meete and make good chere:
46
That so they may be traynde to knowe both ryot here and theft.
Then also euery housholder, to his abilitie,
Doth make a mightie Cake, that may suffice his companie:
Herein a pennie doth he put, before it come to fire,
This he deuides according as his housholde doth require,
And euery peece distributeth, as round about they stand,
Which in their names vnto the poore is giuen out of hand:
But who so chaunceth on the peece wherein the money lies,
Is counted king amongst them all, and is with showtes and cries
Exalted to the heauens vp, who taking chalke in hande,
Doth make a crosse on euery beame, and rafters as they stande:
Great force and powre haue these agaynst all iniuryes and harmes
Of cursed deuils, sprites, and bugges, of coniurings and charmes.
So much this king can do, so much the Crosses brings to passe,
Made by some seruant, maide, or childe, or by some foolish asse.
Twise sixe nightes then from Christmasse, they do count with diligence,
Wherein eche maister in his house doth burne vp Franckensence:
And on the Table settes a loafe, when night approcheth nere,
Before the Coles, and Franckensence to be perfumed there:
First bowing downe his heade he standes, and nose and eares, and eyes
He smokes, and with his mouth receyue the fume that doth arise:
Whom followeth streight his wife, and doth the same full solemly,
And of their children euery one, and all their family:
Which doth preserue they say their teeth, and nose, and eyes, and eare,
From euery kind of maladie, and sicknesse all the yeare.
When euery one receyued hath this odour great and small,
Then one takes vp the pan with Coales, and Franckensence and all,
An other takes the loafe, whom all the reast do follow here,
And round about the house they go, with torch or taper clere,
That neither bread nor meat do want, nor witch with dreadful charme,
Haue powre to hurt their children, or to do their cattell harme.
There are that three nightes onely do perfourme this foolish geare,
To this intent, and thinke themselues in safetie all the yeare.
To Christ dare none commit himselfe. And in these dayes beside,
They iudge what weather all the yeare shall happen and betide:
[46]
The youth in euery place doe flocke, and all appareld fine,
With Pypars through the streetes they tunne, and sing at euery dore,
In commendation of the man, rewarded well therefore:
Which on themselues they do bestowe, or on the Church, as though
The people were not plagude with Roges and begging Friers enough.
There Cities are, where boyes and gyrles togither still do runne,
About the streete with like, as soone as night beginnes to come,
And bring abrode their wassell bowles, who well rewarded bee,
With Cakes and Cheese, and great good cheare, and money plentiouslee.
Then commes in place saint Agnes day, which here in Germanie,
Is not so much esteemde, nor kept with such solemnitie:
But in the Popish Court it standes in passing hie degree,
As spring and head of wondrous gaine, and great commoditee.
For in saint Agnes Church vpon this day while Masse they sing,
Two Lambes as white as snowe, the Nonnes do yearely vse to bring:
And when the Agnus chaunted is, vpon the aultar hie,
(For in this thing there hidden is a solemne mysterie)
They offer them. The seruaunts of the Pope when this is done,
Do put them into Pasture good till shearing time be come.
Then other wooll they mingle with these holy fleeses twaine,
Whereof being sponne and drest, are made the Pals of passing gaine:
Three fingars commonly in bredth, and wrought in compasse so,
As on the Bishops shoulders well they round about may go.
These Pals thus on the shoulders set, both on the backe and brest,
Haue labels hanging something lowe, the endes whereof are drest,
And typte with plates of weightie lead, and vesture blacke arayde,
And last of all to make an ende, with knots are surely stayde.
O ioyfull day of Agnes, and to Papistes full of gaine,
O precious worthie Lambes, O wooll most fortunate againe.
O happie they that spin and weaue the same, whose handes may touch
This holy wooll, and make these Pals of price and vertue such.
For by the same the Bishops haue their full aucthoritie,
And Metropolitanes are forced, these dearely for to buie.
Bestowing sometime eight, or ten, yea thirtie thousand crownes,
Ere halfe the yeare be full expirde, for these same pelting gownes.
Ne can they vse the Pall that was their predicessors late,
Nor play the Bishop, nor receyue the Primates his estate,
Till that he get one of his owne, with such like subtiltie,
The Pope doth all men powle, without respect of Simonie.
Is not so much esteemde, nor kept with such solemnitie:
But in the Popish Court it standes in passing hie degree,
As spring and head of wondrous gaine, and great commoditee.
For in saint Agnes Church vpon this day while Masse they sing,
Two Lambes as white as snowe, the Nonnes do yearely vse to bring:
And when the Agnus chaunted is, vpon the aultar hie,
(For in this thing there hidden is a solemne mysterie)
They offer them. The seruaunts of the Pope when this is done,
Do put them into Pasture good till shearing time be come.
Then other wooll they mingle with these holy fleeses twaine,
Whereof being sponne and drest, are made the Pals of passing gaine:
Three fingars commonly in bredth, and wrought in compasse so,
As on the Bishops shoulders well they round about may go.
These Pals thus on the shoulders set, both on the backe and brest,
Haue labels hanging something lowe, the endes whereof are drest,
And typte with plates of weightie lead, and vesture blacke arayde,
And last of all to make an ende, with knots are surely stayde.
O ioyfull day of Agnes, and to Papistes full of gaine,
O precious worthie Lambes, O wooll most fortunate againe.
O happie they that spin and weaue the same, whose handes may touch
This holy wooll, and make these Pals of price and vertue such.
For by the same the Bishops haue their full aucthoritie,
And Metropolitanes are forced, these dearely for to buie.
Bestowing sometime eight, or ten, yea thirtie thousand crownes,
Ere halfe the yeare be full expirde, for these same pelting gownes.
47
Nor play the Bishop, nor receyue the Primates his estate,
Till that he get one of his owne, with such like subtiltie,
The Pope doth all men powle, without respect of Simonie.
Perchaunce such force doth not in these same holy Lambes remaine,
Nor of it selfe the wooll so much, nor all the weauers paine,
As these same powlers seeme to say: for thus these palles being wrought,
Are streight waies to S. Peters Church by hands of Deacons brought,
And vnderneath the aultar all the night they buryed lie,
Among saint Peters reliques and saint Paules his fellow bie.
From hence the sacred iuyce they draw, and powre celestiall,
As if the holy ghost should giue these Clarkes his vertue all.
Nor of it selfe the wooll so much, nor all the weauers paine,
As these same powlers seeme to say: for thus these palles being wrought,
Are streight waies to S. Peters Church by hands of Deacons brought,
And vnderneath the aultar all the night they buryed lie,
Among saint Peters reliques and saint Paules his fellow bie.
From hence the sacred iuyce they draw, and powre celestiall,
As if the holy ghost should giue these Clarkes his vertue all.
Straunge Reliques sure, and bodies eke of passing sanctitie,
That to such lowsie clokes can giue so great aucthoritie.
Who would not more esteeme you nowe then when you here did liue,
When as no clokes at all you did vnto your Bishops giue,
Nor fed so many paunches great, nor shauen companies,
With foule illusions and deceytes and shamelesse suttelties?
Now siluer do you giue and heapes of golde togither rake
From euery realme, and for a denne of theeues prouision make.
Farre be it from me that I should thus of you beleeue or say:
But what so holy in this worlde hath bene, or is this day,
That this same wicked Papacie doth not conuert to gaine?
Th'almightie Lord himselfe aboue in safetie cannot raigne.
Now here the Papistes do declare from whom at first did spring,
The vse of this same pelting Pall, and this vnseemely thing.
And here a thousand lyes they make, from auncient fathers olde,
They say the first inuention came, ne dare they yet be bolde
To burthen Peter with the same, for feare they faint in proofe,
But do reiect, not probably, yet farther of aloofe.
Such folly and ambicion great, whereat you wonder may.
For Linus he that Peter first succeeded as they say,
And guyded next the sea of Rome, first tooke this same in hande,
That woollen garment might in steede of lynnen Ephod stande.
But where was Agnes at this tyme? who offred vp and how,
The two white Lambes? where then was Masse as it is vsed now?
Yea where was then the popish state, and dreadfull Monarchee?
Sure in saint Austens time, there were no Palles at Rome to see:
When Bishops all had equall powre, although as stories tell,
The romishe Bishop did the reast in worthinesse excell.
Thus Papistes neuer count it shame, nor any fault to lie,
So they may get great summes of golde, and rayse their kingdome hie.
That to such lowsie clokes can giue so great aucthoritie.
Who would not more esteeme you nowe then when you here did liue,
When as no clokes at all you did vnto your Bishops giue,
Nor fed so many paunches great, nor shauen companies,
With foule illusions and deceytes and shamelesse suttelties?
Now siluer do you giue and heapes of golde togither rake
From euery realme, and for a denne of theeues prouision make.
Farre be it from me that I should thus of you beleeue or say:
But what so holy in this worlde hath bene, or is this day,
That this same wicked Papacie doth not conuert to gaine?
Th'almightie Lord himselfe aboue in safetie cannot raigne.
Now here the Papistes do declare from whom at first did spring,
The vse of this same pelting Pall, and this vnseemely thing.
And here a thousand lyes they make, from auncient fathers olde,
They say the first inuention came, ne dare they yet be bolde
To burthen Peter with the same, for feare they faint in proofe,
But do reiect, not probably, yet farther of aloofe.
Such folly and ambicion great, whereat you wonder may.
For Linus he that Peter first succeeded as they say,
And guyded next the sea of Rome, first tooke this same in hande,
That woollen garment might in steede of lynnen Ephod stande.
But where was Agnes at this tyme? who offred vp and how,
The two white Lambes? where then was Masse as it is vsed now?
[47]
Sure in saint Austens time, there were no Palles at Rome to see:
When Bishops all had equall powre, although as stories tell,
The romishe Bishop did the reast in worthinesse excell.
Thus Papistes neuer count it shame, nor any fault to lie,
So they may get great summes of golde, and rayse their kingdome hie.
Then comes the day wherein the virgin offred Christ vnto
The father chiefe, as Moyses law commaunded hir to do.
Then numbers great of Tapers large, both men and women beare
To Church, being halowed there with pomp, & dreadful words to heare.
This done, eche man his Candell lightes, where chiefest seemeth hee,
Whose taper greatest may be seene, and fortunate to bee:
Whose Candell burneth cleare and bright, a wondrous force and might
Doth in these Candels lie, which if at any time they light,
They sure beleue that neyther storme nor tempest dare abide,
Nor thunder in the skies be heard, nor any deuils spide,
Nor fearefull sprites that walke by night, nor hurts of frost or haile,
How easily can these fellowes all these hurly burlyes quaile?
That needlesse is it nowe to put their trust in Christ alone,
Or to commit all things to him that sittes in chiefest throne.
The father chiefe, as Moyses law commaunded hir to do.
Then numbers great of Tapers large, both men and women beare
To Church, being halowed there with pomp, & dreadful words to heare.
This done, eche man his Candell lightes, where chiefest seemeth hee,
Whose taper greatest may be seene, and fortunate to bee:
Whose Candell burneth cleare and bright, a wondrous force and might
Doth in these Candels lie, which if at any time they light,
They sure beleue that neyther storme nor tempest dare abide,
Nor thunder in the skies be heard, nor any deuils spide,
Nor fearefull sprites that walke by night, nor hurts of frost or haile,
How easily can these fellowes all these hurly burlyes quaile?
That needlesse is it nowe to put their trust in Christ alone,
Or to commit all things to him that sittes in chiefest throne.
Then followeth good sir Blase, who doth a waxen Candell giue,
And holy water to his men, whereby they safely liue.
I diuers Barrels oft haue seene, drawne out of water cleare,
Through one small blessed bone of this same holy martyr heare:
And caryed thence to other townes and Cities farre away,
Ech superstition doth require such earnest kinde of play:
But in the meane time no man seekes for Christ and God aboue,
Nor dare content themselues to haue his fauour and his loue.
And holy water to his men, whereby they safely liue.
I diuers Barrels oft haue seene, drawne out of water cleare,
Through one small blessed bone of this same holy martyr heare:
And caryed thence to other townes and Cities farre away,
Ech superstition doth require such earnest kinde of play:
But in the meane time no man seekes for Christ and God aboue,
Nor dare content themselues to haue his fauour and his loue.
Now when at length the pleasant time of Shrouetide comes in place,
And cruell fasting dayes at hande approch with solemne grace:
Then olde and yong are both as mad, as ghestes of Bacchus feast,
And foure dayes long they tipple square, and feede and neuer reast.
Downe goes the Hogges in euery place, and puddings euery wheare
Do swarme: the Dice are shakte and tost, and Cardes apace they teare:
In euery house are showtes and cryes, and mirth, and reuell route,
And daintie tables spred, and all be set with ghestes aboute:
With sundrie playes and Christmasse games, & feare and shame away,
The tongue is set at libertie, and hath no kinde of stay.
All thinges are lawfull then and done, no pleasure passed by,
That in their mindes they can deuise, as if they then should die:
The chiefest man is he, and one that most deserueth prayse,
Among the rest that can finde out the fondest kinde of playes.
On him they looke and gaze vpon, and laugh with lustie cheare,
Whom boyes do follow, crying foole, and such like other geare.
He in the meane time thinkes himselfe a wondrous worthie man,
Not mooued with their wordes nor cryes, do whatsoeuer they can.
Some sort there are that runne with staues, or fight in armour fine,
Or shew the people foolishe toyes, for some small peece of wine.
Eche partie hath his fauourers, and faythfull friendes enowe,
That readie are to turne themselues, as fortune list to bowe.
But some againe the dreadfull shape of deuils on them take,
And chase such as they meete, and make poore boyes for feare to quake.
Some naked runne about the streetes, their faces hid alone,
With visars close, that so disguisde, they might be knowne of none.
Both men and women chaunge their weede, the men in maydes aray,
And wanton wenches drest like men, doe trauell by the way,
And to their neighbours houses go, or where it likes them best,
Perhaps vnto some auncient friend or olde acquainted ghest,
Unknowne, and speaking but fewe wordes, the meate deuour they vp,
That is before them set, and cleane they swinge of euery cup.
Some runne about the streets attyrde like Monks, and some like kings,
Accompanied with pompe and garde, and other stately things.
Some hatch yong fooles as hennes do egges with good and speedie lucke,
Or as the Goose doth vse to do, or as the quacking ducke.
Some like wilde beastes doe runne abrode in skinnes that diuers bee
Arayde, and eke with lothsome shapes, that dreadfull are to see:
They counterfet both Beares and Woolues, and Lions fierce in sight,
And raging Bulles. Some play the Cranes with wings & stilts vpright.
Some like the filthie forme of Apes, and some like fooles are drest,
Which best beseeme these Papistes all, that thus keepe Bacchus feast.
But others beare a torde, that on a Cushion soft they lay,
And one there is that with a flap doth keepe the flies away.
I would there might an other be an officer of those,
Whose roome might serue to take away the scent from euery nose.
Some others make a man all stuft with straw or ragges within,
Apparayled in dublet faire, and hosen passing trim:
Whom as a man that lately dyed of honest life and fame,
In blanket hid they beare about, and streightwayes with the same
They hurle him vp into the ayre, not suffring him to fall,
And this they doe at diuers tymes the Citie ouer all.
I shew not here their daunces yet, with filthie iestures mad,
Nor other wanton sportes that on these holydayes are had.
There places are where such as hap to come within this dore,
Though olde acquainted friendes they be, or neuer seene before
And say not first here by your leaue, both in and out I go,
They binde their handes behinde their backes, nor any difference tho
Of man or woman is there made, but Basons ringing great,
Before them do they daunce with ioy, and sport in euery streat.
There are that certaine prayers haue that on the Tuesday fall,
Against the quartaine Ague, and the other Feuers all.
But others than sowe Onyon feede, the greater to be seene,
And Persley eke, and Lettys both, to haue them alwayes greene.
Of truth I loth for to declare the foolishe toyes and trickes,
That in these dayes are done by these same popish Catholickes:
If snowe lie deepe vpon the ground, and almost thawing bee,
Then fooles in number great thou shalt in euery corner see:
For balles of snow they make, and them one at another cast,
Till that the conquerde part doth yeelde and run away at last.
No Matrone olde nor sober man can freely by them come,
At home he must abide that will these wanton fellowes shonne.
Besides the noble men, the riche, and men of hie degree,
Least they with common people should not seeme so mad to bee,
There wagons finely framde before, and for this matter meete,
And lustie horse and swift of pace, well trapt from head to feete
They put therein, about whose necke and euery place before,
A hundred gingling belles do hang, to make his courage more.
Their wiues and children therein set, behinde themselues do stande,
Well armde with whips, and holding fast the bridle in their hande,
With all their force throughout the streetes and market place they ron,
As if some whirlewinde mad, or tempest great from skies should come.
As fast as may be from the steates, th'amazed people flye,
And giues them place while they about doe runne continually.
Yea sometime legges or armes they breake, and horse and carte and all
They ouerthrow, with such a force, they in their course doe fall.
Much lesse they man or childe doe spare, that meetes them in the waye,
Nor they content themselues to vse this madnesse all the daye:
But euen till midnight holde they on, their pastimes for to make,
Whereby they hinder men of sleepe, and cause their heades to ake.
But all this same they care not for, nor doe esteeme a heare,
So they may haue their pleasure still, and foolish wanton geare.
And cruell fasting dayes at hande approch with solemne grace:
Then olde and yong are both as mad, as ghestes of Bacchus feast,
And foure dayes long they tipple square, and feede and neuer reast.
Downe goes the Hogges in euery place, and puddings euery wheare
Do swarme: the Dice are shakte and tost, and Cardes apace they teare:
In euery house are showtes and cryes, and mirth, and reuell route,
And daintie tables spred, and all be set with ghestes aboute:
48
The tongue is set at libertie, and hath no kinde of stay.
All thinges are lawfull then and done, no pleasure passed by,
That in their mindes they can deuise, as if they then should die:
The chiefest man is he, and one that most deserueth prayse,
Among the rest that can finde out the fondest kinde of playes.
On him they looke and gaze vpon, and laugh with lustie cheare,
Whom boyes do follow, crying foole, and such like other geare.
He in the meane time thinkes himselfe a wondrous worthie man,
Not mooued with their wordes nor cryes, do whatsoeuer they can.
Some sort there are that runne with staues, or fight in armour fine,
Or shew the people foolishe toyes, for some small peece of wine.
Eche partie hath his fauourers, and faythfull friendes enowe,
That readie are to turne themselues, as fortune list to bowe.
But some againe the dreadfull shape of deuils on them take,
And chase such as they meete, and make poore boyes for feare to quake.
Some naked runne about the streetes, their faces hid alone,
With visars close, that so disguisde, they might be knowne of none.
Both men and women chaunge their weede, the men in maydes aray,
And wanton wenches drest like men, doe trauell by the way,
And to their neighbours houses go, or where it likes them best,
Perhaps vnto some auncient friend or olde acquainted ghest,
Unknowne, and speaking but fewe wordes, the meate deuour they vp,
That is before them set, and cleane they swinge of euery cup.
Some runne about the streets attyrde like Monks, and some like kings,
Accompanied with pompe and garde, and other stately things.
Some hatch yong fooles as hennes do egges with good and speedie lucke,
Or as the Goose doth vse to do, or as the quacking ducke.
Some like wilde beastes doe runne abrode in skinnes that diuers bee
Arayde, and eke with lothsome shapes, that dreadfull are to see:
They counterfet both Beares and Woolues, and Lions fierce in sight,
And raging Bulles. Some play the Cranes with wings & stilts vpright.
Some like the filthie forme of Apes, and some like fooles are drest,
Which best beseeme these Papistes all, that thus keepe Bacchus feast.
But others beare a torde, that on a Cushion soft they lay,
And one there is that with a flap doth keepe the flies away.
[48]
Whose roome might serue to take away the scent from euery nose.
Some others make a man all stuft with straw or ragges within,
Apparayled in dublet faire, and hosen passing trim:
Whom as a man that lately dyed of honest life and fame,
In blanket hid they beare about, and streightwayes with the same
They hurle him vp into the ayre, not suffring him to fall,
And this they doe at diuers tymes the Citie ouer all.
I shew not here their daunces yet, with filthie iestures mad,
Nor other wanton sportes that on these holydayes are had.
There places are where such as hap to come within this dore,
Though olde acquainted friendes they be, or neuer seene before
And say not first here by your leaue, both in and out I go,
They binde their handes behinde their backes, nor any difference tho
Of man or woman is there made, but Basons ringing great,
Before them do they daunce with ioy, and sport in euery streat.
There are that certaine prayers haue that on the Tuesday fall,
Against the quartaine Ague, and the other Feuers all.
But others than sowe Onyon feede, the greater to be seene,
And Persley eke, and Lettys both, to haue them alwayes greene.
Of truth I loth for to declare the foolishe toyes and trickes,
That in these dayes are done by these same popish Catholickes:
If snowe lie deepe vpon the ground, and almost thawing bee,
Then fooles in number great thou shalt in euery corner see:
For balles of snow they make, and them one at another cast,
Till that the conquerde part doth yeelde and run away at last.
No Matrone olde nor sober man can freely by them come,
At home he must abide that will these wanton fellowes shonne.
Besides the noble men, the riche, and men of hie degree,
Least they with common people should not seeme so mad to bee,
There wagons finely framde before, and for this matter meete,
And lustie horse and swift of pace, well trapt from head to feete
They put therein, about whose necke and euery place before,
A hundred gingling belles do hang, to make his courage more.
Their wiues and children therein set, behinde themselues do stande,
Well armde with whips, and holding fast the bridle in their hande,
49
As if some whirlewinde mad, or tempest great from skies should come.
As fast as may be from the steates, th'amazed people flye,
And giues them place while they about doe runne continually.
Yea sometime legges or armes they breake, and horse and carte and all
They ouerthrow, with such a force, they in their course doe fall.
Much lesse they man or childe doe spare, that meetes them in the waye,
Nor they content themselues to vse this madnesse all the daye:
But euen till midnight holde they on, their pastimes for to make,
Whereby they hinder men of sleepe, and cause their heades to ake.
But all this same they care not for, nor doe esteeme a heare,
So they may haue their pleasure still, and foolish wanton geare.
The Wednesday next a solemne day, to Church they early go,
To sponge out all the foolish deedes by them committed so,
They money giue, and on their heddes, the Priestes doth ashes lay,
And with his holy water washeth all their sinnes away:
In woondrous sort against the veniall sinnes doth profite this,
Yet here no stay of madnesse now, nor ende of follie is,
With mirth to dinner straight they go, and to their woonted playe,
And on their deuills shapes they put, and sprightish fonde araye.
Some sort there are that mourning go, with lantarnes in their hande,
While in the day time Titan bright, amid the skies doth stande:
And seeke their shroftide Bachanals, still crying euery where,
Where are our feastes become? alas the cruell fastes appere.
Some beare about a herring on a staffe, and lowde doe rore,
Herrings, herrings, stincking herrings, puddings now no more.
And hereto ioyne they foolish playes, and doltish dogrell rimes,
And what beside they can inuent, belonging to the times.
Some other beare vpon a staffe their fellowes horsed hie,
And carie them vnto some ponde, or running riuer nie,
That what so of their foolish feast, doth in them yet remayne,
May vnderneth the floud be plungde, and washt away againe.
Some children doe intise with Nuttes, and peares abrode to play,
And singing through the towne they go, before them all the way.
In some place all the youthfull flocke, with minstrels doe repaire,
And out of euery house they plucke the girles, and maydens fayre.
And them to plough they straitwayes put, with whip one doth them hit,
Another holdes the plough in hande, the Minstrell here doth sit
Amidde the same, and drounken songes, with gaping mouth he sings,
Whome foloweth one that sowes out sande, or ashes fondely flings.
When thus they through the streetes haue plaide, the man yt guideth all
Doth driue both plough & maydens through some ponde or riuer small:
And dabbled all with durt, and wringing wette as they may bee,
To supper calles, and after that to daunsing lustilee.
The follie that these dayes is vsde, can no man well declare,
Their wanton pastimes, wicked actes, and all their franticke fare.
On Sunday at the length they leaue, their mad and foolish game,
And yet not so, but that they drinke, and dice away the same.
Thus at the last to Bacchus is this day appoynted cleare,
To sponge out all the foolish deedes by them committed so,
They money giue, and on their heddes, the Priestes doth ashes lay,
And with his holy water washeth all their sinnes away:
In woondrous sort against the veniall sinnes doth profite this,
Yet here no stay of madnesse now, nor ende of follie is,
With mirth to dinner straight they go, and to their woonted playe,
And on their deuills shapes they put, and sprightish fonde araye.
Some sort there are that mourning go, with lantarnes in their hande,
While in the day time Titan bright, amid the skies doth stande:
And seeke their shroftide Bachanals, still crying euery where,
Where are our feastes become? alas the cruell fastes appere.
Some beare about a herring on a staffe, and lowde doe rore,
Herrings, herrings, stincking herrings, puddings now no more.
And hereto ioyne they foolish playes, and doltish dogrell rimes,
And what beside they can inuent, belonging to the times.
Some other beare vpon a staffe their fellowes horsed hie,
And carie them vnto some ponde, or running riuer nie,
That what so of their foolish feast, doth in them yet remayne,
May vnderneth the floud be plungde, and washt away againe.
Some children doe intise with Nuttes, and peares abrode to play,
And singing through the towne they go, before them all the way.
In some place all the youthfull flocke, with minstrels doe repaire,
And out of euery house they plucke the girles, and maydens fayre.
[49]
Another holdes the plough in hande, the Minstrell here doth sit
Amidde the same, and drounken songes, with gaping mouth he sings,
Whome foloweth one that sowes out sande, or ashes fondely flings.
When thus they through the streetes haue plaide, the man yt guideth all
Doth driue both plough & maydens through some ponde or riuer small:
And dabbled all with durt, and wringing wette as they may bee,
To supper calles, and after that to daunsing lustilee.
The follie that these dayes is vsde, can no man well declare,
Their wanton pastimes, wicked actes, and all their franticke fare.
On Sunday at the length they leaue, their mad and foolish game,
And yet not so, but that they drinke, and dice away the same.
Thus at the last to Bacchus is this day appoynted cleare,
Then (O poore wretches) fastings long approching doe appeare:
In fourtie dayes they neyther milke, nor fleshe, nor egges doe eate,
And butter with their lippes to touch, is thought a trespasse great:
Both Ling and saltfishe they deuoure, and fishe of euery sorte,
Whose purse is full, and such as liue in great and welthie porte:
But onyans, browne bread, leekes and salt, must poore men dayly gnaw
And fry their oten cakes in oyle. The Pope deuisde this law
For sinnes, th'offending people here from hell and death to pull,
Beleeuing not that all their sinnes, were earst forgiuen full.
Yet here these wofull soules he helpes, and taking money fast,
Doth all things set at libertie, both egges and flesh at last.
The Images and pictures now are couerde secretlie,
In euery Church, and from the beames, the roofe and rafters hie
Hanges painted linnen clothes that to the people doth declare,
The wrath and furie great of God, and times that fasted are.
Then all men are constrainde their sinnes, by cruell law to tell,
And threatned if they hide but one, with dredfull death and hell.
From hence no little gaines vnto the Priestes doth still arise,
And of the Pope the shambles doth appeare in beastly wise.
In fourtie dayes they neyther milke, nor fleshe, nor egges doe eate,
And butter with their lippes to touch, is thought a trespasse great:
Both Ling and saltfishe they deuoure, and fishe of euery sorte,
Whose purse is full, and such as liue in great and welthie porte:
But onyans, browne bread, leekes and salt, must poore men dayly gnaw
And fry their oten cakes in oyle. The Pope deuisde this law
For sinnes, th'offending people here from hell and death to pull,
Beleeuing not that all their sinnes, were earst forgiuen full.
Yet here these wofull soules he helpes, and taking money fast,
Doth all things set at libertie, both egges and flesh at last.
The Images and pictures now are couerde secretlie,
In euery Church, and from the beames, the roofe and rafters hie
Hanges painted linnen clothes that to the people doth declare,
The wrath and furie great of God, and times that fasted are.
Then all men are constrainde their sinnes, by cruell law to tell,
And threatned if they hide but one, with dredfull death and hell.
From hence no little gaines vnto the Priestes doth still arise,
And of the Pope the shambles doth appeare in beastly wise.
Now comes the sunday forth, of this same great and holy fast,
Here doth the Pope the shriuen blesse, absoluing them at last,
From all their sinnes, and of the Jewes the law he doth alow,
As if the power of God had not sufficient bene till now.
Or that the law of Moyses here, were still of force and might,
In these same happie dayes when Christ, doth raigne wt heauenly light.
The boyes with ropes of straw doth frame an vgly monster here,
And call him death, whom from the towne, with prowd & solemne chere
To hilles and valleyes they conuey, and villages thereby,
From whence they stragling doe returne, well beaten commonly.
Thus children also beare with speares, their Cracknelles round about,
And two they haue, whereof the one is called Sommer stout:
Apparalde all in greene, and drest in youthfull fine araye,
The other Winter, clad in mosse with heare all hoare and graye:
These two togither fight, of which the Palme doth Sommer get,
From hence to meate they go, and all with wine their whistles wet.
The other toyes that in this time, of holly fastes appeare,
I loth to tell, nor order like, is vsed euery wheare.
Here doth the Pope the shriuen blesse, absoluing them at last,
From all their sinnes, and of the Jewes the law he doth alow,
As if the power of God had not sufficient bene till now.
50
In these same happie dayes when Christ, doth raigne wt heauenly light.
The boyes with ropes of straw doth frame an vgly monster here,
And call him death, whom from the towne, with prowd & solemne chere
To hilles and valleyes they conuey, and villages thereby,
From whence they stragling doe returne, well beaten commonly.
Thus children also beare with speares, their Cracknelles round about,
And two they haue, whereof the one is called Sommer stout:
Apparalde all in greene, and drest in youthfull fine araye,
The other Winter, clad in mosse with heare all hoare and graye:
These two togither fight, of which the Palme doth Sommer get,
From hence to meate they go, and all with wine their whistles wet.
The other toyes that in this time, of holly fastes appeare,
I loth to tell, nor order like, is vsed euery wheare.
Here comes that worthie day wherein, our sauior Christ is thought,
To come vnto Jerusalem, on asses shoulders brought:
When as againe these Papistes fonde, their foolish pageantes haue,
With pompe and great solemnitie, and countnaunce wondrous graue.
A woodden Asse they haue, and Image great that on him rides,
But vnderneath the Asses feete, a table broade there slides,
Being borne on wheeles, which ready drest, and al things meete therfore
The Asse is brought abroade and set before the Churches doore:
The people all do come and bowes of trees and palmes they bere,
Which things against the tempest great, the Parson coniures there,
And straytwayes downe before the Asse, vpon his face he lies,
Whome there an other Priest doth strike with rodde of largest sise:
He rising vp, two lubbours great vpon their faces fall,
In straunge attire and lothsomely, with filthie tune they ball:
Who when againe they risen are, with stretching out their hande,
They poynt vnto the woodden knight, and singing as they stande
Declare that that is he that came, into the worlde to saue,
And to redeeme such as in him their hope assured haue:
And euen the same that long agone while in the streate he roade,
The people mette, and Oliue bowes so thicke before hym stroade.
This being soung, the people cast the braunches as they passe,
Some part vpon the Image, and some part vpon the Asse.
Before whose feete a wondrous heape, of bowes and braunches ly,
This done into the Church he strayght, is drawne full solemly:
The shauen Priestes before them marche, the people follow fast,
Still striuing who shall gather first the bowes that downe are cast:
For falsely they beleeue that these, haue force and vertue great,
Against the rage of winter stormes, and thunders slashing heate.
Are Idoles worshipt otherwise, are these not wicked things?
Euen I my selfe haue earst behelde, both wise and mightie Kings
Defilde with this religion vile, that on their knees haue kneelde,
Unto these stockes, and honour due to God, to them did yeelde.
In some place wealthie Citizens, and men of sober chere
For no small summe doe hire this Asse, with them about to bere,
And manerly they vse the same, not suffering any by,
To touch this Asse, nor to presume vnto his presence ny:
For they suppose that in this thing, they Christ doe highly serue,
And well of him accepted are, and great rewardes deserue.
If any man shall happe to thinke, them Asses here in this,
I sure beleeue he is not much deceyude, nor thinkes amis.
When as the Priestes and people all haue ended this the sport,
The boyes doe after dinner come, and to the Church resort:
The Sexten pleasde with price, and looking well no harme be done,
They take the Asse, and through the streetes, & crooked lanes they rone,
Whereas they common verses sing, according to the guise,
The people giuing money, breade, and egges of largest cise.
Of this their gaines they are compelde, the maister halfe to giue,
Least he alone without his portion of the Asse shoulde liue.
To come vnto Jerusalem, on asses shoulders brought:
When as againe these Papistes fonde, their foolish pageantes haue,
With pompe and great solemnitie, and countnaunce wondrous graue.
A woodden Asse they haue, and Image great that on him rides,
But vnderneath the Asses feete, a table broade there slides,
Being borne on wheeles, which ready drest, and al things meete therfore
The Asse is brought abroade and set before the Churches doore:
The people all do come and bowes of trees and palmes they bere,
Which things against the tempest great, the Parson coniures there,
And straytwayes downe before the Asse, vpon his face he lies,
Whome there an other Priest doth strike with rodde of largest sise:
He rising vp, two lubbours great vpon their faces fall,
In straunge attire and lothsomely, with filthie tune they ball:
Who when againe they risen are, with stretching out their hande,
They poynt vnto the woodden knight, and singing as they stande
Declare that that is he that came, into the worlde to saue,
And to redeeme such as in him their hope assured haue:
And euen the same that long agone while in the streate he roade,
The people mette, and Oliue bowes so thicke before hym stroade.
This being soung, the people cast the braunches as they passe,
Some part vpon the Image, and some part vpon the Asse.
[50]
This done into the Church he strayght, is drawne full solemly:
The shauen Priestes before them marche, the people follow fast,
Still striuing who shall gather first the bowes that downe are cast:
For falsely they beleeue that these, haue force and vertue great,
Against the rage of winter stormes, and thunders slashing heate.
Are Idoles worshipt otherwise, are these not wicked things?
Euen I my selfe haue earst behelde, both wise and mightie Kings
Defilde with this religion vile, that on their knees haue kneelde,
Unto these stockes, and honour due to God, to them did yeelde.
In some place wealthie Citizens, and men of sober chere
For no small summe doe hire this Asse, with them about to bere,
And manerly they vse the same, not suffering any by,
To touch this Asse, nor to presume vnto his presence ny:
For they suppose that in this thing, they Christ doe highly serue,
And well of him accepted are, and great rewardes deserue.
If any man shall happe to thinke, them Asses here in this,
I sure beleeue he is not much deceyude, nor thinkes amis.
When as the Priestes and people all haue ended this the sport,
The boyes doe after dinner come, and to the Church resort:
The Sexten pleasde with price, and looking well no harme be done,
They take the Asse, and through the streetes, & crooked lanes they rone,
Whereas they common verses sing, according to the guise,
The people giuing money, breade, and egges of largest cise.
Of this their gaines they are compelde, the maister halfe to giue,
Least he alone without his portion of the Asse shoulde liue.
From Thurseday then till Easter come, the fondest toyes haue place
Wherin these cathlikes think themselues, great men of wōdrous grace
First three dayes space the belles are wilde, in silence for to lie,
When from the toppes of hawtie towres, with clappers lowd they crie.
The boyes in euery streat doe runne, and noyses great they make,
While as in calling men to Church their wooden clappers shake.
Thre nightes at midnight vp they rise, their Mattens for to heare,
Appoynted well with clubbes and staues, and stones in order theare:
The Sexten straightwayes putteth out the candles speedely,
And straight the Priest with rustie throte, alowde begins to cry.
Then furious rage begins to spring, and hurlyburly rise,
On pewes and deskes and seates they bounce, & beate in dredfullwise:
Thou wouldst suppose they were possest, with sprightes and deuills all,
Or fury such as forceth them, that vpon Baccus call.
Some beaten downe with clubbes and staues, amongst the pewes do ly
And others almost brainde with stones, or wounded mortally.
Well serues the darckenesse for these deedes, and thereto doth agree,
The fashions like of euery one, that thus enraged bee.
Here wicked Iudas all to torne, with vile reproches lies,
And Marie in the darcke is calde vpon with childish cries.
That she be mercifull and helpe, and heale the faultes that bee,
And through hir powre deliuer them, from hurt and miseree.
These things vnto these feastes belonges, the candles being light,
An Image fastned to a crosse is caried all vpright:
A lanterne rounde about his necke, is hangde to show the way,
Are not these popish foolish toyes, a pretie kinde of play?
This day the oyle and glasses of the Bishop hallowed bee,
And twise three times saluting them, he lowly bendes his knee.
The Cannons after doe the same, with laughter wouldst thou faint,
And woonder farre to see them make, their speechelesse glasse a saint.
Their dinner done, from th'aultar all their costly clothes they take,
And wash it, rubbing it with bowes, and bromes that they doe make:
Then water on they powre and wine crosswise there on they lay,
And to the patron of ech aultar, humbly doe they pray,
That they vouchsafe to looke vpon theyr seruaunts worshipping,
And to aswage the furie great, of Ioue the thundring King.
And here the Monkes their maundie make, with sundrie solemne rights
And signes of great humilitie, and wondrous pleasaunt fights.
Ech one the others feete doth wash, and wipe them cleane and drie,
With hatefull minde, and secret frawde, that in their heartes doth lye
As if that Christ with his examples, did these thinges require,
And not to helpe our brethren here, with zeale and free desire,
Ech one supplying others want, in all things that they may,
As he himselfe a seruaunt made, to serue vs euery way.
Then strait the loaues doe walke, and pottes in euery place they skinke
Wherewith the holy fathers oft, to pleasaunt damsels drinke,
And sure with no dissembling heart, for true as steele they bee,
And often times they put in proofe their great fidelitee.
Wherin these cathlikes think themselues, great men of wōdrous grace
First three dayes space the belles are wilde, in silence for to lie,
When from the toppes of hawtie towres, with clappers lowd they crie.
The boyes in euery streat doe runne, and noyses great they make,
While as in calling men to Church their wooden clappers shake.
Thre nightes at midnight vp they rise, their Mattens for to heare,
Appoynted well with clubbes and staues, and stones in order theare:
The Sexten straightwayes putteth out the candles speedely,
And straight the Priest with rustie throte, alowde begins to cry.
51
On pewes and deskes and seates they bounce, & beate in dredfullwise:
Thou wouldst suppose they were possest, with sprightes and deuills all,
Or fury such as forceth them, that vpon Baccus call.
Some beaten downe with clubbes and staues, amongst the pewes do ly
And others almost brainde with stones, or wounded mortally.
Well serues the darckenesse for these deedes, and thereto doth agree,
The fashions like of euery one, that thus enraged bee.
Here wicked Iudas all to torne, with vile reproches lies,
And Marie in the darcke is calde vpon with childish cries.
That she be mercifull and helpe, and heale the faultes that bee,
And through hir powre deliuer them, from hurt and miseree.
These things vnto these feastes belonges, the candles being light,
An Image fastned to a crosse is caried all vpright:
A lanterne rounde about his necke, is hangde to show the way,
Are not these popish foolish toyes, a pretie kinde of play?
This day the oyle and glasses of the Bishop hallowed bee,
And twise three times saluting them, he lowly bendes his knee.
The Cannons after doe the same, with laughter wouldst thou faint,
And woonder farre to see them make, their speechelesse glasse a saint.
Their dinner done, from th'aultar all their costly clothes they take,
And wash it, rubbing it with bowes, and bromes that they doe make:
Then water on they powre and wine crosswise there on they lay,
And to the patron of ech aultar, humbly doe they pray,
That they vouchsafe to looke vpon theyr seruaunts worshipping,
And to aswage the furie great, of Ioue the thundring King.
And here the Monkes their maundie make, with sundrie solemne rights
And signes of great humilitie, and wondrous pleasaunt fights.
Ech one the others feete doth wash, and wipe them cleane and drie,
With hatefull minde, and secret frawde, that in their heartes doth lye
As if that Christ with his examples, did these thinges require,
And not to helpe our brethren here, with zeale and free desire,
Ech one supplying others want, in all things that they may,
As he himselfe a seruaunt made, to serue vs euery way.
Then strait the loaues doe walke, and pottes in euery place they skinke
Wherewith the holy fathers oft, to pleasaunt damsels drinke,
[51]
And often times they put in proofe their great fidelitee.
Two Priestes the next day following, vpon their shoulders beare,
The Image of the Crucifix, about the altar neare:
Being clad in coape of crimozen die, and dolefully they sing:
At length before the steps his coate pluckt of they straight him bring,
And vpon Turkey Carpettes lay him downe full tenderly,
With cushions vnderneath his heade, and pillowes heaped hie:
Then flat vpon the grounde they fall, and kisse both hande and feete,
And worship so this woodden God, with honour farre vnmeete.
Then all the shauen sort falles downe, and foloweth them herein,
As workemen chiefe of wickednesse, they first of all begin:
And after them the simple soules, the common people come,
And worship him with diuers giftes, as Golde, and siluer some:
And others corne or egges againe, to poulshorne persons sweete,
And eke a long desired price, for wicked worship meete.
How are the Idoles worshipped, if this religion here
Be Catholike, and like the spowes of Christ accounted dere?
Besides with Images the more, their pleasure here to take.
And Christ that euery where doth raigne, a laughing stocke to make,
An other Image doe they get, like one but newly deade,
With legges stretcht out at length and handes, vpon his body spreade:
And him with pompe and sacred song, they beare vnto his graue,
His bodie all being wrapt in lawne, and silkes and sarcenet braue,
The boyes before with clappers go, and filthie noyses make,
The Sexten beares the light, the people hereof knowledge take:
And downe they kneele, or kisse the grounde, their handes helde vp abrod
And knocking on their breastes they make, this woodden blocke a God.
And least in graue he shoulde remaine, without some companie,
The singing bread is layde with him, for more idolatrie:
The Priest the Image worships first, as falleth to his turne,
And franckensence and sweete perfumes, before the breade doth burne:
With tapers all the people come, and at the barriars stay,
Where downe vpon their knees they fall, and night and day they pray:
And violets and euery kinde of flowres about the graue
They straw, and bring in all their giftes, and presents that they haue.
The singing men their Dirges chaunt, as if some guiltie soule,
Were buried there, that thus they may, the people better poule.
The Image of the Crucifix, about the altar neare:
Being clad in coape of crimozen die, and dolefully they sing:
At length before the steps his coate pluckt of they straight him bring,
And vpon Turkey Carpettes lay him downe full tenderly,
With cushions vnderneath his heade, and pillowes heaped hie:
Then flat vpon the grounde they fall, and kisse both hande and feete,
And worship so this woodden God, with honour farre vnmeete.
Then all the shauen sort falles downe, and foloweth them herein,
As workemen chiefe of wickednesse, they first of all begin:
And after them the simple soules, the common people come,
And worship him with diuers giftes, as Golde, and siluer some:
And others corne or egges againe, to poulshorne persons sweete,
And eke a long desired price, for wicked worship meete.
How are the Idoles worshipped, if this religion here
Be Catholike, and like the spowes of Christ accounted dere?
Besides with Images the more, their pleasure here to take.
And Christ that euery where doth raigne, a laughing stocke to make,
An other Image doe they get, like one but newly deade,
With legges stretcht out at length and handes, vpon his body spreade:
And him with pompe and sacred song, they beare vnto his graue,
His bodie all being wrapt in lawne, and silkes and sarcenet braue,
The boyes before with clappers go, and filthie noyses make,
The Sexten beares the light, the people hereof knowledge take:
And downe they kneele, or kisse the grounde, their handes helde vp abrod
And knocking on their breastes they make, this woodden blocke a God.
And least in graue he shoulde remaine, without some companie,
The singing bread is layde with him, for more idolatrie:
The Priest the Image worships first, as falleth to his turne,
And franckensence and sweete perfumes, before the breade doth burne:
With tapers all the people come, and at the barriars stay,
Where downe vpon their knees they fall, and night and day they pray:
And violets and euery kinde of flowres about the graue
They straw, and bring in all their giftes, and presents that they haue.
52
Were buried there, that thus they may, the people better poule.
On Easter eue the fire all, is quencht in euery place,
And fresh againe from out the flint, is fetcht with solemne grace:
The Priest doth halow this against great daungers many one,
A brande whereof doth euery man with greedie minde take home,
That when the fearefull storme appeares, or tempest blacke arise,
By lighting this he safe may be, from stroke of hurtfull skies:
A Taper great the paschall namde, with musicke then they blesse,
And franckensence herein they pricke, for greater holynesse:
This burneth night and day as signe, of Christ that conquerde hell,
As if so be this foolish toye, suffiseth this to tell.
Then doth the Bishop or the Priest, the water halow straight,
That for their baptisme is reserude: for now no more of waight
Is that they vsde the yeare before, nor can they any more,
Yong children christen with the same, as they haue done before.
With woondrous pompe and furniture, amid the Church they go,
With candles, crosses, banners, Chrisme, and oyle appoynted tho:
Nine times about the font they marche, and on the saintes doe call,
Then still at length they stande, and straight the Priest begins withall,
And thrise the water doth he touche, and crosses thereon make,
Here bigge and barbrous wordes he speakes, to make the deuill quake:
And holsome waters coniureth, and foolishly doth dresse,
Supposing holyar that to make, which God before did blesse:
And after this his candle than, he thrusteth in the floode,
And thrise he breathes thereon with breath, that stinkes of former foode:
And making here an ende, his Chrisme he poureth therevpon,
The people staring hereat stande, amazed euery one:
Beleeuing that great powre is giuen to this water here,
By gaping of these learned men, and such like trifling gere.
Therefore in vessels brought they draw, and home they carie some,
Against the grieues that to themselues, or to their beastes may come.
Then Clappers ceasse, and belles are set againe at libertee,
And herewithall the hungrie times of fasting ended bee.
And fresh againe from out the flint, is fetcht with solemne grace:
The Priest doth halow this against great daungers many one,
A brande whereof doth euery man with greedie minde take home,
That when the fearefull storme appeares, or tempest blacke arise,
By lighting this he safe may be, from stroke of hurtfull skies:
A Taper great the paschall namde, with musicke then they blesse,
And franckensence herein they pricke, for greater holynesse:
This burneth night and day as signe, of Christ that conquerde hell,
As if so be this foolish toye, suffiseth this to tell.
Then doth the Bishop or the Priest, the water halow straight,
That for their baptisme is reserude: for now no more of waight
Is that they vsde the yeare before, nor can they any more,
Yong children christen with the same, as they haue done before.
With woondrous pompe and furniture, amid the Church they go,
With candles, crosses, banners, Chrisme, and oyle appoynted tho:
Nine times about the font they marche, and on the saintes doe call,
Then still at length they stande, and straight the Priest begins withall,
And thrise the water doth he touche, and crosses thereon make,
Here bigge and barbrous wordes he speakes, to make the deuill quake:
And holsome waters coniureth, and foolishly doth dresse,
Supposing holyar that to make, which God before did blesse:
And after this his candle than, he thrusteth in the floode,
And thrise he breathes thereon with breath, that stinkes of former foode:
And making here an ende, his Chrisme he poureth therevpon,
The people staring hereat stande, amazed euery one:
Beleeuing that great powre is giuen to this water here,
By gaping of these learned men, and such like trifling gere.
Therefore in vessels brought they draw, and home they carie some,
Against the grieues that to themselues, or to their beastes may come.
Then Clappers ceasse, and belles are set againe at libertee,
And herewithall the hungrie times of fasting ended bee.
At midnight then with carefull minde, they vp to mattens ries,
The Clarke doth come and after him, the Priest with staring eies:
The Image and the breade from out the graue (a worthie sight)
They take, and Angels two they place in vesture white,
And rounde about ech place appeeres, all voyde of standers by,
Saue onely that the watchmen there, amazed seeme to ly.
But yet I thinke the trembling of the earth they neuer see,
Nor of the heauenly messenger, the flaming maiestie.
An other Image of a Conquerour they forth doe bring,
And on the aultar place, and then, they lustily doe sing,
That Gates of hell a sunder burst, and Sathan ouerthrowne,
Christ from his graue is risen vp, and now aliue is knowne.
Which yet they thinke not so to be, as plainely doth appeere,
By their Religion, doubtes, and feare, and by their doings here.
In some place solemne sightes and showes, & Pageants fayre are playd,
With sundrie sortes of maskers braue, in straunge attire arayd,
As where the Maries three doe meete, the sepulchre to see,
And Iohn with Peter swiftly runnes, before him there to bee.
These things are done with iesture such, and with so pleasaunt game,
That euen the grauest men that liue, woulde laugh to see the same.
At midnight strait, not tarying till the daylight doe appeere,
Some gettes in flesh and glutton lyke, they feede vpon their cheere.
They rost their flesh, and custardes great, and egges and radish store,
And trifles, clouted creame, and cheese, and whatsoeuer more
At first they list to eate, they bring into the temple straight,
That so the Priest may halow them with wordes of wondrous waight.
The Friers besides, & pelting Priestes, from house to house doe roame,
Receyuing gaine of euery man that this will haue at home.
Some raddish rootes this day doe take before all other meate,
Against the quartan ague and such other sicknesse great.
What should I shew their forced fayth and great hypocrisie,
When as of Christ they doe receyue the dredfull misterie?
Which they ne woulde if that they fearde not lightnings of the Pope,
For none of them beleeueth here, nor none of them doth hope
That they receyue eternall life, and euerlasting seate,
By death of Iesus Christ and by his crosse and triumph great.
For who should teache to them the same, since euery Popes decree,
Their doctrine, fayth, and all their rightes, to this contrarie bee?
Straight after this, into the fieldes they walke to take the viewe,
And to their woonted life they fall, and bid the reast adewe:
Go nowe and laugh the Iewes to scorne, and all the Turkes that bee,
For fayth, religion, lawes, and life, and their Idolatree.
Sure wondrous wise and good they be, if that thou wilt compare
Them with these doltish Papistes here, that blinde and beastly are.
The Clarke doth come and after him, the Priest with staring eies:
[52]
They take, and Angels two they place in vesture white,
And rounde about ech place appeeres, all voyde of standers by,
Saue onely that the watchmen there, amazed seeme to ly.
But yet I thinke the trembling of the earth they neuer see,
Nor of the heauenly messenger, the flaming maiestie.
An other Image of a Conquerour they forth doe bring,
And on the aultar place, and then, they lustily doe sing,
That Gates of hell a sunder burst, and Sathan ouerthrowne,
Christ from his graue is risen vp, and now aliue is knowne.
Which yet they thinke not so to be, as plainely doth appeere,
By their Religion, doubtes, and feare, and by their doings here.
In some place solemne sightes and showes, & Pageants fayre are playd,
With sundrie sortes of maskers braue, in straunge attire arayd,
As where the Maries three doe meete, the sepulchre to see,
And Iohn with Peter swiftly runnes, before him there to bee.
These things are done with iesture such, and with so pleasaunt game,
That euen the grauest men that liue, woulde laugh to see the same.
At midnight strait, not tarying till the daylight doe appeere,
Some gettes in flesh and glutton lyke, they feede vpon their cheere.
They rost their flesh, and custardes great, and egges and radish store,
And trifles, clouted creame, and cheese, and whatsoeuer more
At first they list to eate, they bring into the temple straight,
That so the Priest may halow them with wordes of wondrous waight.
The Friers besides, & pelting Priestes, from house to house doe roame,
Receyuing gaine of euery man that this will haue at home.
Some raddish rootes this day doe take before all other meate,
Against the quartan ague and such other sicknesse great.
What should I shew their forced fayth and great hypocrisie,
When as of Christ they doe receyue the dredfull misterie?
Which they ne woulde if that they fearde not lightnings of the Pope,
For none of them beleeueth here, nor none of them doth hope
That they receyue eternall life, and euerlasting seate,
By death of Iesus Christ and by his crosse and triumph great.
For who should teache to them the same, since euery Popes decree,
Their doctrine, fayth, and all their rightes, to this contrarie bee?
53
And to their woonted life they fall, and bid the reast adewe:
Go nowe and laugh the Iewes to scorne, and all the Turkes that bee,
For fayth, religion, lawes, and life, and their Idolatree.
Sure wondrous wise and good they be, if that thou wilt compare
Them with these doltish Papistes here, that blinde and beastly are.
Nowe comes the day wherein they gad abrode, with crosse in hande,
To boundes of euery field, and round about their neighbours lande:
And as they go, they sing and pray to euery saint aboue,
But to our Ladie specially, whom most of all they loue.
When as they to the towne are come, the Church they enter in,
And looke what saint that Church doth guide, they humbly pray to him,
That he preserue both corne and fruite, from storme and tempest great,
And them defend from harme, and send them store of drinke and meat.
This done, they to the Tauerne go, or in the fieldes they dine,
Where downe they sit and feede a pace, and fill themselues with wine,
So much that oftentymes without the Crosse they come away,
And miserably they reele, till as their stomacke vp they lay.
These things three dayes continually are done, with solemne sport,
With many Crosses often they vnto some Church resort,
Whereas they all do chaunt alowde, wherby there streight doth spring,
A bawling noyse, while euery man seekes hyghest for to sing:
The Priestes giue eare, this madnesse them doth most of all content,
And wine to them that passe the reast, is from the Parson sent.
To boundes of euery field, and round about their neighbours lande:
And as they go, they sing and pray to euery saint aboue,
But to our Ladie specially, whom most of all they loue.
When as they to the towne are come, the Church they enter in,
And looke what saint that Church doth guide, they humbly pray to him,
That he preserue both corne and fruite, from storme and tempest great,
And them defend from harme, and send them store of drinke and meat.
This done, they to the Tauerne go, or in the fieldes they dine,
Where downe they sit and feede a pace, and fill themselues with wine,
So much that oftentymes without the Crosse they come away,
And miserably they reele, till as their stomacke vp they lay.
These things three dayes continually are done, with solemne sport,
With many Crosses often they vnto some Church resort,
Whereas they all do chaunt alowde, wherby there streight doth spring,
A bawling noyse, while euery man seekes hyghest for to sing:
The Priestes giue eare, this madnesse them doth most of all content,
And wine to them that passe the reast, is from the Parson sent.
Then comes the day when Christ ascended to his fathers seate,
Which day they also celebrate, with store of drinke and meate.
Then euery man some birde must eate, I know not to what ende,
And after dinner all to church they come, and there attende.
The blocke that on the aultar still, till then was seene to stande,
Is drawne vp hie aboue the roofe, by ropes, and force of hande:
The Priestes about it rounde do stand, and chaunt it to the skie,
For all these mens religion great, in singing most doth lie.
Then out of hande the dreadfull shape of Sathan downe they throw,
Oft times with fire burning bright, and dasht a sunder tho,
The boyes with greedie eyes do watch, and on him straight they fall,
And beate him sore with rods, and breake him into peeces small.
This done, they wafers downe doe cast, and singing Cakes the while,
With Papers rounde amongst them put, the children to beguile.
With laughter great are all things done: and from the beames they let
Great streames of water downe to fall, on whom they meane to wet.
And thus this solemne holiday, and hye renowmed feast,
And all their whole deuotion here, is ended with a ieast.
Which day they also celebrate, with store of drinke and meate.
Then euery man some birde must eate, I know not to what ende,
And after dinner all to church they come, and there attende.
The blocke that on the aultar still, till then was seene to stande,
Is drawne vp hie aboue the roofe, by ropes, and force of hande:
The Priestes about it rounde do stand, and chaunt it to the skie,
For all these mens religion great, in singing most doth lie.
Then out of hande the dreadfull shape of Sathan downe they throw,
Oft times with fire burning bright, and dasht a sunder tho,
The boyes with greedie eyes do watch, and on him straight they fall,
And beate him sore with rods, and breake him into peeces small.
[53]
With Papers rounde amongst them put, the children to beguile.
With laughter great are all things done: and from the beames they let
Great streames of water downe to fall, on whom they meane to wet.
And thus this solemne holiday, and hye renowmed feast,
And all their whole deuotion here, is ended with a ieast.
On Whitsunday whyte Pigeons tame in strings from heauen flie.
And one that framed is of wood, still hangeth in the skie.
Thou seest how they with Idols play, and teach the people to,
None otherwise then little gyrles with Puppets vse to do.
And one that framed is of wood, still hangeth in the skie.
Thou seest how they with Idols play, and teach the people to,
None otherwise then little gyrles with Puppets vse to do.
Then doth ensue the solemne feast of Corpus Christi day,
Who then can shewe their wicked vse, and fonde and foolish play?
The hallowed bread with worship great, in siluer Pix they beare
About the Church, or in the Citie passing here and theare.
His armes that beares the same, two of the welthiest men do holde,
And ouer him a Canopey of silke and cloth of golde
Foure others vse to beare aloufe, least that some filthie thing
Should fall from hie, or some mad birde hir doung thereon should fling.
Christes passion here derided is, with sundrie maskes and playes,
Faire Ursley with hir maydens all, doth passe amid the wayes:
And valiant George with speare thou killest the dreadfull dragon here,
The deuils house is drawne about, wherein there doth appere
A wondrous sort of damned sprites, with foule and fearefull looke,
Great Christopher doth wade and passe with Christ amid the brooke:
Sebastian full of feathred shaftes, the dint of dart doth feele,
There walketh Kathren with hir sworde in hande, and cruell wheele:
The Challis and the singing Cake, with Barbara is led,
And sundrie other Pageants playde in worship of this bred,
That please the foolish people well, what should I stande vpon,
Their Banners, Crosses, Candlestickes, and reliques many on,
Their Cuppes and carued Images, that Priestes with countnance hie,
Or rude and common people beare about full solemlie?
Saint Iohn before the bread doth go, and poynting towardes him,
Doth shew the same to be the Lambe that takes away our sinne:
On whome two clad in Angels shape do sundrie flowres fling,
A number great of sarring Belles, with pleasant sounde doe ring.
The common wayes with bowes are strawde, and euery streete beside,
And to the walles and windowes all, are boughes and braunches tide.
The Monkes in euery place do roame, the Nonnes abrode are sent,
The Priestes and schoolemen lowde do rore, some vse the instrument.
The straunger passing through the streete, vpon his knees doe fall:
And earnestly vpon this bread, as on his God doth call.
For why, they count it for their Lorde, and that he doth not take
The forme of flesh, but nature now of breade that we do bake.
A number great of armed men here all this while doe stande,
To looke that no disorder be, nor any filching hande:
For all the Church goodes out are brought, which certainly would bee
A bootie good, if euery man might haue his libertee.
This bread eight dayes togither they in presence out do bring,
The Organs all do then resound, and priestes alowde do sing:
The people flat on faces fall, their handes helde vp on hie,
Beleeuing that they see their God, and soueraigne maiestie.
The like at Masse they doe, while as the bread is lifted well,
And Challys shewed aloft, when as the Sexten rings the bell.
O blessed God, why suffrest thou such wickednesse to raigne,
And bringst them not into the steppes of fathers olde againe,
Whereof they do so often boast? yet so vnlike them be,
That doctrine, faith, nor life with theirs, doth any whit agree.
In Uillages the husbandmen about their corne doe ride,
With many Crosses, Banners, and sir Iohn their Priest beside:
Who in a bag about his necke doth beare the blessed breade,
And oftentyme he downe alightes, and Gospell lowde doth reade.
This surely keepes the corne from winde, and raine, and from the blast,
Such fayth the Pope hath taught, and yet the Papistes holde it fast:
Not taken from the Gospell, nor the worthie doctors olde,
But from the minde of man, and from blinde reason mistresse bolde.
Who then can shewe their wicked vse, and fonde and foolish play?
The hallowed bread with worship great, in siluer Pix they beare
About the Church, or in the Citie passing here and theare.
His armes that beares the same, two of the welthiest men do holde,
And ouer him a Canopey of silke and cloth of golde
Foure others vse to beare aloufe, least that some filthie thing
Should fall from hie, or some mad birde hir doung thereon should fling.
Christes passion here derided is, with sundrie maskes and playes,
Faire Ursley with hir maydens all, doth passe amid the wayes:
And valiant George with speare thou killest the dreadfull dragon here,
The deuils house is drawne about, wherein there doth appere
A wondrous sort of damned sprites, with foule and fearefull looke,
Great Christopher doth wade and passe with Christ amid the brooke:
Sebastian full of feathred shaftes, the dint of dart doth feele,
There walketh Kathren with hir sworde in hande, and cruell wheele:
The Challis and the singing Cake, with Barbara is led,
And sundrie other Pageants playde in worship of this bred,
That please the foolish people well, what should I stande vpon,
Their Banners, Crosses, Candlestickes, and reliques many on,
Their Cuppes and carued Images, that Priestes with countnance hie,
Or rude and common people beare about full solemlie?
Saint Iohn before the bread doth go, and poynting towardes him,
Doth shew the same to be the Lambe that takes away our sinne:
On whome two clad in Angels shape do sundrie flowres fling,
A number great of sarring Belles, with pleasant sounde doe ring.
54
And to the walles and windowes all, are boughes and braunches tide.
The Monkes in euery place do roame, the Nonnes abrode are sent,
The Priestes and schoolemen lowde do rore, some vse the instrument.
The straunger passing through the streete, vpon his knees doe fall:
And earnestly vpon this bread, as on his God doth call.
For why, they count it for their Lorde, and that he doth not take
The forme of flesh, but nature now of breade that we do bake.
A number great of armed men here all this while doe stande,
To looke that no disorder be, nor any filching hande:
For all the Church goodes out are brought, which certainly would bee
A bootie good, if euery man might haue his libertee.
This bread eight dayes togither they in presence out do bring,
The Organs all do then resound, and priestes alowde do sing:
The people flat on faces fall, their handes helde vp on hie,
Beleeuing that they see their God, and soueraigne maiestie.
The like at Masse they doe, while as the bread is lifted well,
And Challys shewed aloft, when as the Sexten rings the bell.
O blessed God, why suffrest thou such wickednesse to raigne,
And bringst them not into the steppes of fathers olde againe,
Whereof they do so often boast? yet so vnlike them be,
That doctrine, faith, nor life with theirs, doth any whit agree.
In Uillages the husbandmen about their corne doe ride,
With many Crosses, Banners, and sir Iohn their Priest beside:
Who in a bag about his necke doth beare the blessed breade,
And oftentyme he downe alightes, and Gospell lowde doth reade.
This surely keepes the corne from winde, and raine, and from the blast,
Such fayth the Pope hath taught, and yet the Papistes holde it fast:
Not taken from the Gospell, nor the worthie doctors olde,
But from the minde of man, and from blinde reason mistresse bolde.
Straight after this comes Vrban in, the Uintners God deuine,
Whose day if that it pleasant be, and Sunne abrode do shine,
Good lucke to them they count it then, and Bacchus holinesse,
His Image and his Church they decke, and curiously do dresse,
About his necke both cups and bowles they hang in order rounde,
And fast vpon his head a crowne of vinie leaues is wounde.
Then him to Tauerne doe they bring, or to some tipling house,
With lustie traine, and vnto him they quaffe and drinke carrouse:
Who for bicause he pledges none, as one that is not drie,
In his behalfe they pledge themselues, and that so handsomly,
Till mystes before their eyes appears, and legges do waxe full weake,
Their face doth flame, their head doth nod, & scarce a word they speake.
But if the day be clowdie nowe, or giuen vnto raine,
On him they list not to bestow such honour, nor such paine,
Poore knaue into some ryuer than, they cast him cruellie,
And all to souse him in the streame, or durtie let him lie.
And if this madnesse be not such, as may be laught at well,
What thing should mooue vs for to laugh, I surely can not tell.
Whose day if that it pleasant be, and Sunne abrode do shine,
Good lucke to them they count it then, and Bacchus holinesse,
His Image and his Church they decke, and curiously do dresse,
About his necke both cups and bowles they hang in order rounde,
And fast vpon his head a crowne of vinie leaues is wounde.
[54]
With lustie traine, and vnto him they quaffe and drinke carrouse:
Who for bicause he pledges none, as one that is not drie,
In his behalfe they pledge themselues, and that so handsomly,
Till mystes before their eyes appears, and legges do waxe full weake,
Their face doth flame, their head doth nod, & scarce a word they speake.
But if the day be clowdie nowe, or giuen vnto raine,
On him they list not to bestow such honour, nor such paine,
Poore knaue into some ryuer than, they cast him cruellie,
And all to souse him in the streame, or durtie let him lie.
And if this madnesse be not such, as may be laught at well,
What thing should mooue vs for to laugh, I surely can not tell.
The next is Vitus sodde in Oyle, before whose ymage faire,
Both men and women bringing hennes for offring do repaire:
The cause whereof I doe not know, I thinke for some disease,
Which he is thought to driue away from such as him do please.
Both men and women bringing hennes for offring do repaire:
The cause whereof I doe not know, I thinke for some disease,
Which he is thought to driue away from such as him do please.
Then doth the ioyfull feast of Iohn the Baptist take his turne,
When bonfiers great with loftie flame, in euery towne doe burne:
And yong men round about with maides, doe daunce in euery streete,
With garlands wrought of Motherwort, or else with Ueruain sweete,
And many other flowres faire, with Uiolets in their handes,
Whereas they all do fondly thinke, that whosoeuer standes,
And thorow the flowres beholds the flame, his eyes shall feele no paine.
When thus till night they daunced haue, they through the fire amaine
With striuing mindes doe runne, and all their hearbes they cast therin,
And then with wordes deuout and prayers, they solemnely begin,
Desiring God that all their illes may there consumed bee,
Whereby they thinke through all that yeare, from Agues to be free.
Some others get a rotten wheele, all worne and cast aside,
Which couered round about with strawe, and tow, they closely hide:
And caryed to some mountaines top, being all with fire light,
They hurle it downe with violence, when darke appeares the night:
Resembling much the Sunne, that from the heauens downe should fal,
A straunge and monstrous sight it seemes, and fearefull to them all:
But they suppose their mischiefes all are likewise throwne to hell,
And that from harmes and daungers now, in safetie here they dwell.
When bonfiers great with loftie flame, in euery towne doe burne:
And yong men round about with maides, doe daunce in euery streete,
With garlands wrought of Motherwort, or else with Ueruain sweete,
And many other flowres faire, with Uiolets in their handes,
Whereas they all do fondly thinke, that whosoeuer standes,
And thorow the flowres beholds the flame, his eyes shall feele no paine.
When thus till night they daunced haue, they through the fire amaine
With striuing mindes doe runne, and all their hearbes they cast therin,
And then with wordes deuout and prayers, they solemnely begin,
Desiring God that all their illes may there consumed bee,
Whereby they thinke through all that yeare, from Agues to be free.
Some others get a rotten wheele, all worne and cast aside,
Which couered round about with strawe, and tow, they closely hide:
And caryed to some mountaines top, being all with fire light,
They hurle it downe with violence, when darke appeares the night:
Resembling much the Sunne, that from the heauens downe should fal,
A straunge and monstrous sight it seemes, and fearefull to them all:
But they suppose their mischiefes all are likewise throwne to hell,
And that from harmes and daungers now, in safetie here they dwell.
55
Wheresoeuer Huldryche hath his place, the people there brings in,
Both Carpes, and Pykes, and Mullets fat, his fauour here to win.
Amid the Church there sitteth one, and to the aultar nie,
That selleth fish, and so good cheepe, that euery man may buie:
Nor any thing he loseth here, bestowing thus his paine,
For when it hath beene offred once, t'is brought him all againe,
That twise or thrise he selles the same, vngodlinesse such gaine
Doth still bring in, and plentiously the kitchin doth maintaine.
Whence comes this same religion newe? what kind of God is this
Same Huldryche here, that so desires, and so delightes in fishe?
Which neuer any heathen God, in offring did receaue,
Nor any thing vnto the Iewes the Lorde hereof did leaue.
Much folly and iniquitie, in euery place they shewe,
But we the chiefest will declare, and write but of a fewe.
Both Carpes, and Pykes, and Mullets fat, his fauour here to win.
Amid the Church there sitteth one, and to the aultar nie,
That selleth fish, and so good cheepe, that euery man may buie:
Nor any thing he loseth here, bestowing thus his paine,
For when it hath beene offred once, t'is brought him all againe,
That twise or thrise he selles the same, vngodlinesse such gaine
Doth still bring in, and plentiously the kitchin doth maintaine.
Whence comes this same religion newe? what kind of God is this
Same Huldryche here, that so desires, and so delightes in fishe?
Which neuer any heathen God, in offring did receaue,
Nor any thing vnto the Iewes the Lorde hereof did leaue.
Much folly and iniquitie, in euery place they shewe,
But we the chiefest will declare, and write but of a fewe.
The blessed virgin Maries feast, hath here his place and time,
Wherein departing from the earth, she did the heauens clime:
Great bundels then of hearbes to Church, the people fast doe beare,
The which against all hurtfull things, the Priest doth hallow theare.
Thus kindle they and nourish still, the peoples wickednesse,
And vainely make them to beleeue, whatsoeuer they expresse:
For sundrie witchcrafts by these hearbs ar wrought, & diuers charmes,
And cast into the fire, are thought to driue away all harmes,
And euery painefull griefe from man, or beast, for to expell,
Farre otherwise than nature, or the worde of God doth tell.
Wherein departing from the earth, she did the heauens clime:
Great bundels then of hearbes to Church, the people fast doe beare,
The which against all hurtfull things, the Priest doth hallow theare.
Thus kindle they and nourish still, the peoples wickednesse,
And vainely make them to beleeue, whatsoeuer they expresse:
For sundrie witchcrafts by these hearbs ar wrought, & diuers charmes,
And cast into the fire, are thought to driue away all harmes,
And euery painefull griefe from man, or beast, for to expell,
Farre otherwise than nature, or the worde of God doth tell.
To belly cheare yet once againe doth Martin more encline,
Whom all the people worshippeth, with rosted Geese and wine:
Both all the day long and the night, now ech man open makes
His vessels all, and of the Must oft times the last he takes,
Which holy Martyn afterwarde, alloweth to be wine,
Therefore they him vnto the skies extoll, with prayse deuine:
And drinking deepe in tankardes large, and bowles of compasse wide.
Yea by these fees the Schoolemaisters haue profite great beside:
For with his scholers euery one, about do singing go,
Not praysing Martyn much, but at the Goose reioyceing tho,
Whereof they oftentymes haue part, and money therewithall,
For which they celebrate this feast, with song and musicke all.
Whom all the people worshippeth, with rosted Geese and wine:
Both all the day long and the night, now ech man open makes
His vessels all, and of the Must oft times the last he takes,
Which holy Martyn afterwarde, alloweth to be wine,
Therefore they him vnto the skies extoll, with prayse deuine:
And drinking deepe in tankardes large, and bowles of compasse wide.
Yea by these fees the Schoolemaisters haue profite great beside:
For with his scholers euery one, about do singing go,
Not praysing Martyn much, but at the Goose reioyceing tho,
Whereof they oftentymes haue part, and money therewithall,
For which they celebrate this feast, with song and musicke all.
[55]
Saint Nicholas money vsde to giue to Maydens secretlie,
Who, that he still may vse his woonted liberalitie
The mothers all their children on the eeue doe cause to fast,
And when they euery one at night in senselesse sleepe are cast:
Both Apples, Nuttes, and peares they bring, and other things beside,
As caps, and shooes, and petticotes, which secretly they hide,
And in the morning found, they say, that this saint Nicholas brought:
Thus tender mindes to worship Saints and wicked things are taught.
Who, that he still may vse his woonted liberalitie
The mothers all their children on the eeue doe cause to fast,
And when they euery one at night in senselesse sleepe are cast:
Both Apples, Nuttes, and peares they bring, and other things beside,
As caps, and shooes, and petticotes, which secretly they hide,
And in the morning found, they say, that this saint Nicholas brought:
Thus tender mindes to worship Saints and wicked things are taught.
What should I tell what Sophisters, on Cathrins day deuise?
Or else the superstitious toyes that Maisters exercise.
Or else the superstitious toyes that Maisters exercise.
To Andrew all the louers, and the lustie wooers come,
Beleeuing through his ayde and certaine ceremonies done,
(While as to him they presentes bring, and coniure all the night)
To haue good lucke, and to obtaine their chiefe and sweete delight.
Beleeuing through his ayde and certaine ceremonies done,
(While as to him they presentes bring, and coniure all the night)
To haue good lucke, and to obtaine their chiefe and sweete delight.
The dedication of the Church is yerely had in minde,
With worship passing Catholicke, and in a wondrous kinde:
From out the steeple hie is hangde, a Crosse and banner fayre,
The pauement of the temple strowde, with hearbes of pleasant ayre,
The Pulpets and the aultars all that in the Church are seene,
And euery pewe and piller great, are deckt with boughes of greene:
The tabernacles opned are, and Images are drest,
But chiefly he that patron is, doth shine aboue the rest:
A borde there standes wheron their Bulles and pardons thick they lay,
That giuen are to euery one that keepes this holy day:
The Idoll of the Patron eke, without the doore doth stande,
And beggeth fast of euery man, with pardons in his hande:
Who for bicause he lackes his tongue, and hath not yet the skill
In common peoples languages, when they speake well or ill:
He hath his owne interpretor, that alwayes standeth by,
And vnto euery man that commeth in or out doth cry:
Desiring them the Patrone there, with giftes to haue in minde,
And Popishe pardons for to buie, release of sinnes to finde.
The Priest doth other Priestes procure, and willeth euery knaue,
His harlot for to bring, and all the swarme of Bastards that they haue:
On euery side the neighbours come, and such as dwell not nere,
Come of their owne good willes, and some required to be there.
And euery man his weapon hath, their swordes, and launces long,
Their axes, curriars, pystolets, with pykes and darts among.
The yong men in their best array, and trimmest maydes appeare,
Both Ieasters, Roges, and minstrels with their instruments are heare.
The Pedler doth his packe vntrusse, the Host his pots doth fill,
And on the table bread and drinke doth set for all that will:
Nor eyther of them their heape deceyues, for of the others all,
To them th'aduauntage of this feast, and gaine, doth chiefly fall.
The seruice done, they eyther to the tauerne fast doe flie,
Or to their neighbours house, whereas they feede vnreasonablie:
For sixe or seuen courses, they vnto the table bring,
And for their suppers may compare with any heathen king.
The table taken vp they rise, and all the youth apace,
The Minstrell with them called go to some conuenient place:
Where when with Bagpipe hoarce, he hath begon his Musicke fine,
And vnto such as are preparde to daunce hath giuen signe,
Comes thither streight both boyes and gyrles, and men that aged bee,
And maryed folkes of middle age, there also comes to see,
Old wrinckled hagges, and youthfull dames, that minde to daūce aloft,
Then sundrie pastimes do begin, and filthie daunces oft:
When Drunkardes they do lead the daunce with fray and bloody fight,
That handes, and eares, and head, and face, are torne in wofull plight:
The streames of bloud runne downe the armes, and oftentimes is seene
The carkasse of some ruffian slaine, is left vpon the greene.
Here many for their louers sweete, some daintie thing doe buie,
And many to the tauerne go, and drinke for companie,
Whereas they foolish songs do sing, and noyses great do make:
Some in the meane while play at Cardes, and some the Dice do shake.
Their custome also is, the Priest into the house to pull:
Whom when they haue, they thinke their game accomplished at full:
He farre in noyse exceedes them all, and eke in drinking drie
The cuppes, a prince he is, and holdes their heades that speewing lie.
And that with such attendaunce good, that often therewithall
His stomacke turnes, for which his neighbours like and loue him all.
Whom if the lyquor that he tastes doe hap to handle so,
As on his feeble legges vnto his house he can not go:
But reele and stagger here and there, as oftentymes is seene,
They friendly set him on a horse, and home they cary him cleene:
To shewe their thankfull hearts againe, this Catholike aray,
Is alwayes vsde vpon this feast, and venerable day.
With worship passing Catholicke, and in a wondrous kinde:
From out the steeple hie is hangde, a Crosse and banner fayre,
The pauement of the temple strowde, with hearbes of pleasant ayre,
The Pulpets and the aultars all that in the Church are seene,
And euery pewe and piller great, are deckt with boughes of greene:
The tabernacles opned are, and Images are drest,
But chiefly he that patron is, doth shine aboue the rest:
A borde there standes wheron their Bulles and pardons thick they lay,
That giuen are to euery one that keepes this holy day:
The Idoll of the Patron eke, without the doore doth stande,
And beggeth fast of euery man, with pardons in his hande:
Who for bicause he lackes his tongue, and hath not yet the skill
In common peoples languages, when they speake well or ill:
He hath his owne interpretor, that alwayes standeth by,
And vnto euery man that commeth in or out doth cry:
Desiring them the Patrone there, with giftes to haue in minde,
And Popishe pardons for to buie, release of sinnes to finde.
The Priest doth other Priestes procure, and willeth euery knaue,
His harlot for to bring, and all the swarme of Bastards that they haue:
On euery side the neighbours come, and such as dwell not nere,
Come of their owne good willes, and some required to be there.
56
Their axes, curriars, pystolets, with pykes and darts among.
The yong men in their best array, and trimmest maydes appeare,
Both Ieasters, Roges, and minstrels with their instruments are heare.
The Pedler doth his packe vntrusse, the Host his pots doth fill,
And on the table bread and drinke doth set for all that will:
Nor eyther of them their heape deceyues, for of the others all,
To them th'aduauntage of this feast, and gaine, doth chiefly fall.
The seruice done, they eyther to the tauerne fast doe flie,
Or to their neighbours house, whereas they feede vnreasonablie:
For sixe or seuen courses, they vnto the table bring,
And for their suppers may compare with any heathen king.
The table taken vp they rise, and all the youth apace,
The Minstrell with them called go to some conuenient place:
Where when with Bagpipe hoarce, he hath begon his Musicke fine,
And vnto such as are preparde to daunce hath giuen signe,
Comes thither streight both boyes and gyrles, and men that aged bee,
And maryed folkes of middle age, there also comes to see,
Old wrinckled hagges, and youthfull dames, that minde to daūce aloft,
Then sundrie pastimes do begin, and filthie daunces oft:
When Drunkardes they do lead the daunce with fray and bloody fight,
That handes, and eares, and head, and face, are torne in wofull plight:
The streames of bloud runne downe the armes, and oftentimes is seene
The carkasse of some ruffian slaine, is left vpon the greene.
Here many for their louers sweete, some daintie thing doe buie,
And many to the tauerne go, and drinke for companie,
Whereas they foolish songs do sing, and noyses great do make:
Some in the meane while play at Cardes, and some the Dice do shake.
Their custome also is, the Priest into the house to pull:
Whom when they haue, they thinke their game accomplished at full:
He farre in noyse exceedes them all, and eke in drinking drie
The cuppes, a prince he is, and holdes their heades that speewing lie.
And that with such attendaunce good, that often therewithall
His stomacke turnes, for which his neighbours like and loue him all.
Whom if the lyquor that he tastes doe hap to handle so,
As on his feeble legges vnto his house he can not go:
[56]
They friendly set him on a horse, and home they cary him cleene:
To shewe their thankfull hearts againe, this Catholike aray,
Is alwayes vsde vpon this feast, and venerable day.
For soules departed from this life, they also carefull bee,
The shauen sort in numbers great, thou shalt assembled see,
Where as their seruice with such speede, they mumble out of hande,
That none, though well they marke, a worde thereof can vnderstande,
But soberly they sing, while as the people offring bee,
For to releaue their Parents soules that lie in miseree.
For they beleeue the shauen sort, with dolefull harmonie,
Do draw the damned soules from hell, and bring them to the skie:
Where they but onely here regarde, their belly and their gaine,
And neuer troubled are with care of any soule in paine.
Their seruice thus in order sing, and payde for Masse and all,
They to the Tauerne streightwayes go, or to the Parsons hall,
Where all the day they drinke and play, and pots about do walke,
Whereas these Cathlicke fathers haue such lewde and beastly talke,
As doutlesse would abhorred be, in any stinking stewes,
And such as any ruffian would, ashamed be to vse.
These are their chiefe solemnities, and orders all the yeare,
Which with the popish fayth in all agreeing doth appeare:
And doth declare thou seest the mindes of these same holy men,
What vertues great they haue, and what religion lyes in them.
The shauen sort in numbers great, thou shalt assembled see,
Where as their seruice with such speede, they mumble out of hande,
That none, though well they marke, a worde thereof can vnderstande,
But soberly they sing, while as the people offring bee,
For to releaue their Parents soules that lie in miseree.
For they beleeue the shauen sort, with dolefull harmonie,
Do draw the damned soules from hell, and bring them to the skie:
Where they but onely here regarde, their belly and their gaine,
And neuer troubled are with care of any soule in paine.
Their seruice thus in order sing, and payde for Masse and all,
They to the Tauerne streightwayes go, or to the Parsons hall,
Where all the day they drinke and play, and pots about do walke,
Whereas these Cathlicke fathers haue such lewde and beastly talke,
As doutlesse would abhorred be, in any stinking stewes,
And such as any ruffian would, ashamed be to vse.
These are their chiefe solemnities, and orders all the yeare,
Which with the popish fayth in all agreeing doth appeare:
And doth declare thou seest the mindes of these same holy men,
What vertues great they haue, and what religion lyes in them.
The like their temples teach, drest vp in more than Pagan guise,
That shines with wicked furniture, before the peoples eies,
As Idols, aultars, pictures lewde, with armes of men prophane,
And Banners, Crosses, burning Lampes, & lightes that alwaies flame
Before the Uirgins Image fayre, and bread in secret put,
That round about with yron grates, and Chauncell close is shut:
That surely not vnworthily the Turkes beleeue and say,
The Papistes are Idolaters, and haue no perfite way
In seruing God, who yet account themselues assuredly,
The very Spouse and Church of Christ, that cannot runne awry.
That shines with wicked furniture, before the peoples eies,
As Idols, aultars, pictures lewde, with armes of men prophane,
And Banners, Crosses, burning Lampes, & lightes that alwaies flame
Before the Uirgins Image fayre, and bread in secret put,
That round about with yron grates, and Chauncell close is shut:
That surely not vnworthily the Turkes beleeue and say,
The Papistes are Idolaters, and haue no perfite way
In seruing God, who yet account themselues assuredly,
The very Spouse and Church of Christ, that cannot runne awry.
Seest thou how in their life they doe beleeue, and when they die,
How doubtfull they? that shauelings seeke their owne commoditie,
Regarding not what happe vnto the simple people falles:
For if that any woulde neglect, the woonted funeralles,
Their singing and their roaring vaine, and onely here commit
Himselfe to God, his heyre should be constrainde to furnish it,
And punisht sore if any thing herein shall wanting bee,
Of all the toyes that doth belong, to such solemnitee.
Thinkst thou they carefull are that soules, the heauens doe attaine,
And Purgatorie scape, or rather for their filthie gaine?
Some where for children is the like, whom yet they doe confesse,
For to be iust, and innocent, and dye in blessednesse:
Their parentes for their funeralles, constrayned are to pay,
Least of the Popish tyranny, should any part decay.
No fayth nor perfit godlinesse doth any where appeare,
But fraude, and craftie coulourings, and such deceitfull geare.
How doubtfull they? that shauelings seeke their owne commoditie,
57
For if that any woulde neglect, the woonted funeralles,
Their singing and their roaring vaine, and onely here commit
Himselfe to God, his heyre should be constrainde to furnish it,
And punisht sore if any thing herein shall wanting bee,
Of all the toyes that doth belong, to such solemnitee.
Thinkst thou they carefull are that soules, the heauens doe attaine,
And Purgatorie scape, or rather for their filthie gaine?
Some where for children is the like, whom yet they doe confesse,
For to be iust, and innocent, and dye in blessednesse:
Their parentes for their funeralles, constrayned are to pay,
Least of the Popish tyranny, should any part decay.
No fayth nor perfit godlinesse doth any where appeare,
But fraude, and craftie coulourings, and such deceitfull geare.
Beholde againe their prayers and the bookes they occupie,
Wherewith to God, and to the saintes, they pray continually:
And to the Angells vse the like, which supersticious kinde,
They doe not reade with any sprite, or zealousnesse of minde:
No cause prouoketh them to praye, this onely them assinde,
To babble much, for otherwise woulde want no wordes nor minde,
Ne shoulde they neede so many prayers, appoynted them to say,
Nor thus to tire their weeried tongue, with mumbling all the day.
Likewise before the heapes of bones, prepared for the same
They stande, and to the spirits and soules in graue, they prayers frame:
And for their good estate they pray, that measure none they know,
Of foolishnesse, nor wicked deedes doe euer ceasse to flow:
To Church they come with beades of bone, or of some other thing,
Whose middles pierced through are tide, and ioyned with a string:
Thus fastned, fiftie Rosaries, they still account the same,
And thrise so many Psalters they accustomde are to name.
With these vnto our Ladie, and to God, and to his saintes,
They number all their babling wordes, and all their tedious plaintes.
So that they number onely seeke, not caring for the minde,
That woman holyest is by much, and of deuoutest kinde:
Whose beades vnto hir foote doe reach, and eake whose maydens so
Drest vp with hir in like attire, vnto the Church doe go.
Wherewith to God, and to the saintes, they pray continually:
And to the Angells vse the like, which supersticious kinde,
They doe not reade with any sprite, or zealousnesse of minde:
No cause prouoketh them to praye, this onely them assinde,
To babble much, for otherwise woulde want no wordes nor minde,
Ne shoulde they neede so many prayers, appoynted them to say,
Nor thus to tire their weeried tongue, with mumbling all the day.
Likewise before the heapes of bones, prepared for the same
They stande, and to the spirits and soules in graue, they prayers frame:
And for their good estate they pray, that measure none they know,
Of foolishnesse, nor wicked deedes doe euer ceasse to flow:
To Church they come with beades of bone, or of some other thing,
Whose middles pierced through are tide, and ioyned with a string:
Thus fastned, fiftie Rosaries, they still account the same,
And thrise so many Psalters they accustomde are to name.
With these vnto our Ladie, and to God, and to his saintes,
They number all their babling wordes, and all their tedious plaintes.
So that they number onely seeke, not caring for the minde,
That woman holyest is by much, and of deuoutest kinde:
Whose beades vnto hir foote doe reach, and eake whose maydens so
Drest vp with hir in like attire, vnto the Church doe go.
[57]
Besides for Charmes and Sorseries, in all things they excell,
Both Dardan and the Witches foule, that by Mæotis dwell.
The reason is, that yet to trust in God they haue no skill,
Nor will commit themselues vnto th'almightie fathers will.
If any woman brought abed, amongst them haps to lie,
Then every place enchaunter lyke, they clense and purifie:
For feare of sprightes least harme she take, or caried cleane away,
Be stolne from thence, as though she than in greatest daunger lay,
When as hir trauailes ouerpast, and ended well hir paine,
With rest and sleepe she seekes to get, hir strength decayde againe.
The like in trauailes harde they vse, and mariages aswell,
And eke in all things that they buy, and every thing they sell.
About these Catholikes necks and hands, are alway hanging charmes,
That serue against all miseries, and all vnhappie harmes:
Amongst the which, the threatning writ of Michael maketh one,
And also the beginning of the Gospell of Saint Iohn:
But these aloue they doe not trust, but with this same they haue,
Theyr barbrous wordes, & crosses drawne, with bloud or painted braue.
They swordes enchaunt, and horses strong, and flesh of men they make
So harde and tough, that they ne care, what blowes or cuttes they take,
And vsing Necromancie thus, them selues they safely keepe,
From bowes, or guns, & from the woolues their cattell, lambes & sheepe:
No iourney also they doe take, but charmes they with them beare,
Besides in glistering glasses fayre, or else in christall cleare
They sprightes enclose, and as to Prophets true, so to the same
They go, if any thing be stolne, or any taken lame.
And when theyr Kine doe giue no milke, or hurt, or bitten sore,
Or any other harme that to these wretches happens more.
Both Dardan and the Witches foule, that by Mæotis dwell.
The reason is, that yet to trust in God they haue no skill,
Nor will commit themselues vnto th'almightie fathers will.
If any woman brought abed, amongst them haps to lie,
Then every place enchaunter lyke, they clense and purifie:
For feare of sprightes least harme she take, or caried cleane away,
Be stolne from thence, as though she than in greatest daunger lay,
When as hir trauailes ouerpast, and ended well hir paine,
With rest and sleepe she seekes to get, hir strength decayde againe.
The like in trauailes harde they vse, and mariages aswell,
And eke in all things that they buy, and every thing they sell.
About these Catholikes necks and hands, are alway hanging charmes,
That serue against all miseries, and all vnhappie harmes:
Amongst the which, the threatning writ of Michael maketh one,
And also the beginning of the Gospell of Saint Iohn:
But these aloue they doe not trust, but with this same they haue,
Theyr barbrous wordes, & crosses drawne, with bloud or painted braue.
They swordes enchaunt, and horses strong, and flesh of men they make
So harde and tough, that they ne care, what blowes or cuttes they take,
And vsing Necromancie thus, them selues they safely keepe,
From bowes, or guns, & from the woolues their cattell, lambes & sheepe:
No iourney also they doe take, but charmes they with them beare,
Besides in glistering glasses fayre, or else in christall cleare
They sprightes enclose, and as to Prophets true, so to the same
They go, if any thing be stolne, or any taken lame.
And when theyr Kine doe giue no milke, or hurt, or bitten sore,
Or any other harme that to these wretches happens more.
Now last behold how they do keepe, their sabboth daies throghout,
First in the morning finely drest, they iet the streetes about:
With garments fondly iagde and cut, and prowde and lofty pace,
And rapyres long about them girt, their great and chiefest grace
Some others walke into the fieldes, or else at euery gate,
They talke and laugh, and thus begin the day to celebrate.
Another sort togither come, and drinking hande to hande,
They quaffe so long, till none of them be able for to stande:
Yea oftentimes they in their seates, with drinke are strangled quight,
And yeelding vp their dronken ghostes, doe bid their mates godnight.
But few of them doe care for Masse, though euery one doe saye,
And thinke it holiest is, nor to the Church they go to praye:
But eyther breakefastes long they make, at home when they arise,
Or drinke vntill the euening starre, begin to shine in skies.
Or else before the Church doore prate, or in the marketsted.
Now when their dinner once is done, and that they well haue fed,
To play they go, to casting of the stone, to runne, or shoote,
To tosse the light and windie ball, aloft with hande or foote:
Some others trie their skill in gonnes, some wrestle all the day,
And some to schooles of fence do go, to gaze vpon the play:
An other sort there is that doe not loue abroade to roame,
But for to passe their time at cardes, or tables still at hoame:
Some vse to sit before their doores, and backbite euery man,
Or newes deuise, or some debate, and strife whereas they can.
The God of wine doth neuer want, in all their sportes and play,
Who when he once hath toucht the braine, & drawne the minde away,
Of euery worde ariseth blowes, their manhoode to assay,
So that no sunday shalt thou see, without some dronken fray.
And thus of custome endeth still, this solemne festiuall,
With dronkennesse, a plague vnto the braine and members all
To Ensong are they called straight, by towling of the bell,
But from their place they list not stirre, being occupied so well:
They forwarde with their game doe go, and Church and seruice all,
Commit vnto the schoolemaisters, or Uicar generall.
Some others to their Ladies sues, being amorous all the while,
Or frame deceytes or subtilties, yong maydens to beguile,
The wanton youth to daunsing goos, and wickedly doe draw,
The maydes in ring, and wantonnesse hath neyther bondes nor law.
First in the morning finely drest, they iet the streetes about:
With garments fondly iagde and cut, and prowde and lofty pace,
And rapyres long about them girt, their great and chiefest grace
Some others walke into the fieldes, or else at euery gate,
They talke and laugh, and thus begin the day to celebrate.
Another sort togither come, and drinking hande to hande,
They quaffe so long, till none of them be able for to stande:
58
And yeelding vp their dronken ghostes, doe bid their mates godnight.
But few of them doe care for Masse, though euery one doe saye,
And thinke it holiest is, nor to the Church they go to praye:
But eyther breakefastes long they make, at home when they arise,
Or drinke vntill the euening starre, begin to shine in skies.
Or else before the Church doore prate, or in the marketsted.
Now when their dinner once is done, and that they well haue fed,
To play they go, to casting of the stone, to runne, or shoote,
To tosse the light and windie ball, aloft with hande or foote:
Some others trie their skill in gonnes, some wrestle all the day,
And some to schooles of fence do go, to gaze vpon the play:
An other sort there is that doe not loue abroade to roame,
But for to passe their time at cardes, or tables still at hoame:
Some vse to sit before their doores, and backbite euery man,
Or newes deuise, or some debate, and strife whereas they can.
The God of wine doth neuer want, in all their sportes and play,
Who when he once hath toucht the braine, & drawne the minde away,
Of euery worde ariseth blowes, their manhoode to assay,
So that no sunday shalt thou see, without some dronken fray.
And thus of custome endeth still, this solemne festiuall,
With dronkennesse, a plague vnto the braine and members all
To Ensong are they called straight, by towling of the bell,
But from their place they list not stirre, being occupied so well:
They forwarde with their game doe go, and Church and seruice all,
Commit vnto the schoolemaisters, or Uicar generall.
Some others to their Ladies sues, being amorous all the while,
Or frame deceytes or subtilties, yong maydens to beguile,
The wanton youth to daunsing goos, and wickedly doe draw,
The maydes in ring, and wantonnesse hath neyther bondes nor law.
And least the youth their pleasure full of whoredome should not take,
In euery Citie common stewes, they maintaine and they make:
And Bawdes they suffer openly, and cherish them withall,
Of whome no slender price doe here receyue nor profit small:
These Catholickes and holy men, and Church of Christ on hie,
The same that all the worlde reforme, and heritiks destroy.
To these doe come all those whom here their filthie lust prouokes,
Both countrie men, and forriners, and poore and welthie folkes.
Whatsoeuer they be that haue not yet, the yoake of mariage tride,
No kinde of shame doth driue them hence, nor any care beside.
For lawfull here they doe it see, and not to be dispisde,
But with the Popish sort to be, an exercise deuisde.
Sometime it also haps, that maried men doe here resort,
But not without their punishment, if once the youthfull sort
Perceyue that they doe thither come, for this they dearely pay,
And oftentimes are vsed ill, and beare the blowes away:
But at this same the rulers laugh, and nothing doe it waye,
For Papistes whordome doe alow, and count it but a playe.
For of the polshorne Priestes they learne, and them they follow still,
That lawes are not of any force to remedie this ill:
The lawe Scatinian is extinct, and Iulian laught at now,
The Papistes euery kinde of vice, and wickednesse alow:
And not alonely in themselues, they doe the same permit,
But also vnto all that list, with Golde to purchase it.
But here I faine woulde vnderstande, what straunge Apostle hee,
That gaue vnto the Christian sort, this wanton libertee?
That where they freely might enioye, and haue them openlye,
And they themselues to take the hier of beastly letcherye?
And notwithstanding this to be true Catholickes in fine,
The perfit seruants here of God, and Church of Christ deuine?
Of their religion, life, and deedes, learne thou their fayth at full,
That they with emptie shadow thee not into errour pull.
This was the guise of Corynth great, and Cyprus eke of olde,
While darcknesse raind, and Sathan foule, his scepture there did holde:
But with a worthie cloake they couer now this whoredome vile,
Least that the youth should happe both maydes and matrons to defile.
Who would not muse to see the witte of these same catholickes,
Their sharpe inuentions, and deuise, in all their proper trickes?
This thing coulde Moyses not perceyue, that all things else did see,
Who wilde that whoremongers shoulde none among the people bee:
And banishte all the harlottes quight, as God did him aduise,
Nor Paule it saw being lifted vp, aboue the starrie skies:
Who did forbid that any man, his members framde of right,
To be the dwelling place of Christ, and of the holy spright:
Should vnto Harlots giue, and make the same thereby to be,
The body of a hore, this staine and blot commaunded he
To be excluded farre from saintes, and such as christned be.
But they haue nothing for to doe, with Moyses nor with Paule,
Nor any honest things they will obey, nor lawes at all.
Themselues they pardon and forgiue, dispensing wondrouslye,
As men that onely here possest the keyes of heauen hye.
In euery Citie common stewes, they maintaine and they make:
And Bawdes they suffer openly, and cherish them withall,
Of whome no slender price doe here receyue nor profit small:
These Catholickes and holy men, and Church of Christ on hie,
The same that all the worlde reforme, and heritiks destroy.
[58]
Both countrie men, and forriners, and poore and welthie folkes.
Whatsoeuer they be that haue not yet, the yoake of mariage tride,
No kinde of shame doth driue them hence, nor any care beside.
For lawfull here they doe it see, and not to be dispisde,
But with the Popish sort to be, an exercise deuisde.
Sometime it also haps, that maried men doe here resort,
But not without their punishment, if once the youthfull sort
Perceyue that they doe thither come, for this they dearely pay,
And oftentimes are vsed ill, and beare the blowes away:
But at this same the rulers laugh, and nothing doe it waye,
For Papistes whordome doe alow, and count it but a playe.
For of the polshorne Priestes they learne, and them they follow still,
That lawes are not of any force to remedie this ill:
The lawe Scatinian is extinct, and Iulian laught at now,
The Papistes euery kinde of vice, and wickednesse alow:
And not alonely in themselues, they doe the same permit,
But also vnto all that list, with Golde to purchase it.
But here I faine woulde vnderstande, what straunge Apostle hee,
That gaue vnto the Christian sort, this wanton libertee?
That where they freely might enioye, and haue them openlye,
And they themselues to take the hier of beastly letcherye?
And notwithstanding this to be true Catholickes in fine,
The perfit seruants here of God, and Church of Christ deuine?
Of their religion, life, and deedes, learne thou their fayth at full,
That they with emptie shadow thee not into errour pull.
This was the guise of Corynth great, and Cyprus eke of olde,
While darcknesse raind, and Sathan foule, his scepture there did holde:
But with a worthie cloake they couer now this whoredome vile,
Least that the youth should happe both maydes and matrons to defile.
Who would not muse to see the witte of these same catholickes,
Their sharpe inuentions, and deuise, in all their proper trickes?
This thing coulde Moyses not perceyue, that all things else did see,
Who wilde that whoremongers shoulde none among the people bee:
And banishte all the harlottes quight, as God did him aduise,
Nor Paule it saw being lifted vp, aboue the starrie skies:
59
To be the dwelling place of Christ, and of the holy spright:
Should vnto Harlots giue, and make the same thereby to be,
The body of a hore, this staine and blot commaunded he
To be excluded farre from saintes, and such as christned be.
But they haue nothing for to doe, with Moyses nor with Paule,
Nor any honest things they will obey, nor lawes at all.
Themselues they pardon and forgiue, dispensing wondrouslye,
As men that onely here possest the keyes of heauen hye.
I many things doe ouer passe, nor haue they euery where,
Their customes like, for euery realme hath his deuised gere:
Yea both in Cities great, and in the villages thereby,
There are that doe such doltish dreames, defende maliciously,
That quight contrary are to Christ, and to religion right,
Which neyther canst thou easily knowe, nor well in verse resight.
Their customes like, for euery realme hath his deuised gere:
Yea both in Cities great, and in the villages thereby,
There are that doe such doltish dreames, defende maliciously,
That quight contrary are to Christ, and to religion right,
Which neyther canst thou easily knowe, nor well in verse resight.
Now when these Popish lothsome limmes, by no meanes we can see
In life nor in their trauaile here, the limmes of Christ to bee,
Nor can in anye wise imbrace, the fonde religion vaine,
And shamefull orders to the worlde, of God contrarie plaine,
Nor doctrine of so wicked fayth, to Christian people giue,
But rather as the Apostles teach, doe simply seeke to liue,
Reiecting toyes and mans deuice, as which we surely know,
To be detested of that Prince, that lightnings downe doth throw:
We here are called Heritykes, and worthie thought to bee,
Of halter, sworde, consuming fire, and ech extremitee.
We punisht are, our houses sealde, or from our countrie farre
We banisht be, or else opprest at home with ciuill warre:
Whereas the dreadfull Souldiour doth consume, and cleane deuours,
The goodes that here hath gotten bene, by toyle and paine of ours.
These things these Catholikes attempt, when in so many yeares,
By scriptures sure they cannot plant, this foolish fayth of theirs:
Nor ours with scriptures ouerthrow, that now they seeke to make
The Prince of hell and Christ to ioyne in one, and partes to take.
For (all ashamde) they plaine perceyue, that long they cannot stande
With this religion and this life, if once doe come in hande,
The worde of God the heauenly light, and that abrode doe shine,
The twelue Apostles doctrine, and that blessed court deuine.
Nor good it seemeth yet to them (such is their wisdome hie,)
To graunt that they haue erd in any thing or gone awrie.
For shame it is that learned men, and such as famous bee,
For Mitars and for Crosiar staues, amongst the Christiantee
Christ nor the Apostles fayth to know, that perfit is and iust,
But to be ledde with dreames of men, whome none may safely trust.
From hence proceedeth all their griefe, and all their cruell hate,
That with effusion of our bloud, they stablish their estate:
And will not here be pacified by any other meanes,
Except we do alow and like, their lewde and monstrous dreames:
And altogither runne in one, like flockes for company,
To false and wicked worshippings, and vile idolatry:
And knowledge them for Lordes of fayth, and rulers of vs all,
Although they teache no doctrine of the King celestiall.
In life nor in their trauaile here, the limmes of Christ to bee,
Nor can in anye wise imbrace, the fonde religion vaine,
And shamefull orders to the worlde, of God contrarie plaine,
Nor doctrine of so wicked fayth, to Christian people giue,
But rather as the Apostles teach, doe simply seeke to liue,
Reiecting toyes and mans deuice, as which we surely know,
To be detested of that Prince, that lightnings downe doth throw:
We here are called Heritykes, and worthie thought to bee,
Of halter, sworde, consuming fire, and ech extremitee.
We punisht are, our houses sealde, or from our countrie farre
We banisht be, or else opprest at home with ciuill warre:
Whereas the dreadfull Souldiour doth consume, and cleane deuours,
The goodes that here hath gotten bene, by toyle and paine of ours.
These things these Catholikes attempt, when in so many yeares,
By scriptures sure they cannot plant, this foolish fayth of theirs:
Nor ours with scriptures ouerthrow, that now they seeke to make
The Prince of hell and Christ to ioyne in one, and partes to take.
For (all ashamde) they plaine perceyue, that long they cannot stande
With this religion and this life, if once doe come in hande,
The worde of God the heauenly light, and that abrode doe shine,
The twelue Apostles doctrine, and that blessed court deuine.
[59]
To graunt that they haue erd in any thing or gone awrie.
For shame it is that learned men, and such as famous bee,
For Mitars and for Crosiar staues, amongst the Christiantee
Christ nor the Apostles fayth to know, that perfit is and iust,
But to be ledde with dreames of men, whome none may safely trust.
From hence proceedeth all their griefe, and all their cruell hate,
That with effusion of our bloud, they stablish their estate:
And will not here be pacified by any other meanes,
Except we do alow and like, their lewde and monstrous dreames:
And altogither runne in one, like flockes for company,
To false and wicked worshippings, and vile idolatry:
And knowledge them for Lordes of fayth, and rulers of vs all,
Although they teache no doctrine of the King celestiall.
Oft hath it bene agreed that eyther part shoulde freely vse
Their owne religion, seruing God as best they list to chuse:
And neyther part the other for to trouble or molest,
With warres or bookes, that Germany might liue in peace or rest.
But Papistes can no peace abide, continually they write,
And both with wordes, and wretched deedes, most cruelly doe bite:
Not onely vs, which might (perhaps) be well enough endurde,
But also Gods must holy worde, and gospell here assurde.
If tumults on our partes arise, or any great ado,
Or if our men doe armour take, being forced therevnto,
And by the law of armes doe burne, and spoyle their enimie,
And take the pillage of their foes, immediately they crie:
The wicked Gospell worketh this, beholde in what a plight
These fellowes liue, the Deuill brought this Gospell first to light:
It Turkish is, and not the same, that Luke wrought long ago:
And spightfully they slaunder it, with many raylings mo:
As if that any Preacher here, did euer this alow,
Or any did by worde of Christ, such crueltie auow.
They know full well themselues that none of ours did euer teache,
To vse such violence nor this vnto the people preache:
Yet with their vile infectiue tongues, and mouthes enuenemde tho,
With poyson that in hellish lakes, and Stygian streames doth flo,
The Gospell of the Lorde they doe, most spightfully defame,
And herewithall the Ministers and Preachers of the same.
But who can Princes gouerne here, or any meanes deuise,
To keepe them in, from vsing force against their enimies?
Why doe they not as well diswade their Catholikes, and blame
Them for their force and crueltie, that doe the very same?
And boldely euery where destroy, and euery man molest,
Yea euen their very friendes at home, that faine woulde liue at rest.
What kinde of Gospell teache those men, that euen openly
With bitter wordes and bookes perswade men to such cruelty?
Are these to any man vnknowne? doth Fraunce and Italy
Not openly declare the same, and plainely testify?
Do not the pulpettes of the Pope, perswade this martiall might,
And pardons euery man hys sinnes that in their quarrell fight?
But sure the wallet them beguiles, that hanges behinde their backe,
And better others faultes they see, than what themselues doe lacke:
Accounting here for catholickes, themselues and all their traine,
And others all as heritickes, and wicked people plaine:
Wherefore the chiefest members of this holy popish state,
Their cerimonies and their dayes, they yearely consecrate.
Their foolish fayth and beastly life, I openly doe showe,
That all the worlde may vnderstande, and euery man may know,
That neyther Christ nor perfit fayth, they any whit doe way,
But onely seeke to looke aloft, and boldely for to say,
That they the booke of Peter are, and holy Catholickes,
And we vnhappie castawayes, and cursed heritickes.
But wherein are they Catholickes? bicause they folow here
The truth? but what they folow and beleeue doth plaine appere.
So it is that in number they and countries vs excell,
So mayst thou both the Turkes and Mores, call Catholickes as well.
Their owne religion, seruing God as best they list to chuse:
And neyther part the other for to trouble or molest,
With warres or bookes, that Germany might liue in peace or rest.
But Papistes can no peace abide, continually they write,
And both with wordes, and wretched deedes, most cruelly doe bite:
Not onely vs, which might (perhaps) be well enough endurde,
But also Gods must holy worde, and gospell here assurde.
If tumults on our partes arise, or any great ado,
Or if our men doe armour take, being forced therevnto,
And by the law of armes doe burne, and spoyle their enimie,
And take the pillage of their foes, immediately they crie:
The wicked Gospell worketh this, beholde in what a plight
These fellowes liue, the Deuill brought this Gospell first to light:
It Turkish is, and not the same, that Luke wrought long ago:
And spightfully they slaunder it, with many raylings mo:
As if that any Preacher here, did euer this alow,
Or any did by worde of Christ, such crueltie auow.
They know full well themselues that none of ours did euer teache,
To vse such violence nor this vnto the people preache:
Yet with their vile infectiue tongues, and mouthes enuenemde tho,
With poyson that in hellish lakes, and Stygian streames doth flo,
60
And herewithall the Ministers and Preachers of the same.
But who can Princes gouerne here, or any meanes deuise,
To keepe them in, from vsing force against their enimies?
Why doe they not as well diswade their Catholikes, and blame
Them for their force and crueltie, that doe the very same?
And boldely euery where destroy, and euery man molest,
Yea euen their very friendes at home, that faine woulde liue at rest.
What kinde of Gospell teache those men, that euen openly
With bitter wordes and bookes perswade men to such cruelty?
Are these to any man vnknowne? doth Fraunce and Italy
Not openly declare the same, and plainely testify?
Do not the pulpettes of the Pope, perswade this martiall might,
And pardons euery man hys sinnes that in their quarrell fight?
But sure the wallet them beguiles, that hanges behinde their backe,
And better others faultes they see, than what themselues doe lacke:
Accounting here for catholickes, themselues and all their traine,
And others all as heritickes, and wicked people plaine:
Wherefore the chiefest members of this holy popish state,
Their cerimonies and their dayes, they yearely consecrate.
Their foolish fayth and beastly life, I openly doe showe,
That all the worlde may vnderstande, and euery man may know,
That neyther Christ nor perfit fayth, they any whit doe way,
But onely seeke to looke aloft, and boldely for to say,
That they the booke of Peter are, and holy Catholickes,
And we vnhappie castawayes, and cursed heritickes.
But wherein are they Catholickes? bicause they folow here
The truth? but what they folow and beleeue doth plaine appere.
So it is that in number they and countries vs excell,
So mayst thou both the Turkes and Mores, call Catholickes as well.
Herewith I iudge that euery man, that hath an vpright heart,
Doth vnderstande how iust our cause hath beene for to depart
From this their monstrous fayth, and from their lewde ydolatree,
And for to shonne these popish members all of ech degree:
As men that neyther Christ doe know, nor euer seeke to finde,
Nor suffer such as woulde, but keepe them still in darcknesse blinde.
Doth vnderstande how iust our cause hath beene for to depart
From this their monstrous fayth, and from their lewde ydolatree,
And for to shonne these popish members all of ech degree:
As men that neyther Christ doe know, nor euer seeke to finde,
Nor suffer such as woulde, but keepe them still in darcknesse blinde.
FINIS.
61
The Spirituall Husbandrie
To the right honorable and worthie Lords, the gouernors and Senate of Bern, Thomas Naogeorgus vvisheth. &c.
62
The first Booke.
Of
holy husbandmen, and of the art we minde to sing,
That mortal minds doth til, & blinded brests to good doth bring,
What noisome plants out of ye harts corrupted thou shalt weed
Before that of the Gospell there thou sowste the ioyfull seed:
And howe the fieldes are to be drest, and eke the certaine way,
To keepe the seede in saftie, so as it doe not decay,
Nor that the prince of hell abrode the cockle fowle doe fling,
Or of the lewdnesse of the ground, or faultie soyle it spring.
That mortal minds doth til, & blinded brests to good doth bring,
What noisome plants out of ye harts corrupted thou shalt weed
Before that of the Gospell there thou sowste the ioyfull seed:
And howe the fieldes are to be drest, and eke the certaine way,
To keepe the seede in saftie, so as it doe not decay,
Nor that the prince of hell abrode the cockle fowle doe fling,
Or of the lewdnesse of the ground, or faultie soyle it spring.
Herein vnknowne to Poets olde, that long agone did write,
O Christ the perfite sonne of God, and fathers Image right,
Graunt me thine ayde: for wisedome all from thee alonely springs,
And worthie Poets through thy helpe, haue written worthie things.
Thine owne affayres are had in hand, of this so sacred paine,
Thou art the cause, for it belongs vnto thy heauenly raigne:
Thou sendes the husbandmen and art the plowmans chiefest ayde,
The blessed corne that springeth vp, shall in thy barnes be layde.
O Christ the perfite sonne of God, and fathers Image right,
Graunt me thine ayde: for wisedome all from thee alonely springs,
And worthie Poets through thy helpe, haue written worthie things.
Thine owne affayres are had in hand, of this so sacred paine,
Thou art the cause, for it belongs vnto thy heauenly raigne:
Thou sendes the husbandmen and art the plowmans chiefest ayde,
The blessed corne that springeth vp, shall in thy barnes be layde.
And you most worthie souereigne Lords, and chosen fathers graue,
That in this age aboue the rest, the chiefest honor haue,
For learning and religion pure, of Muses taking charge,
As Bern your Countrie doth declare, and all your Empire large.
For there true godlinesse is taught, and Christ and fayth withall,
And place assignde to vertuous wits, and studyes liberall.
You are not (as a great sort are) of Christ ashamde awhit,
That here amongst a thousand foes, in blinded world doth sit,
And calleth all men in the ende vnto his heauenly raigne,
Accept these simple verses here, and fauour this my paine.
That in this age aboue the rest, the chiefest honor haue,
For learning and religion pure, of Muses taking charge,
As Bern your Countrie doth declare, and all your Empire large.
For there true godlinesse is taught, and Christ and fayth withall,
And place assignde to vertuous wits, and studyes liberall.
You are not (as a great sort are) of Christ ashamde awhit,
That here amongst a thousand foes, in blinded world doth sit,
And calleth all men in the ende vnto his heauenly raigne,
Accept these simple verses here, and fauour this my paine.
At first the almightie father framde the worlde, and mortall kinde,
In perfite state, and yeelding fruite such as himselfe assignde,
Who wholy gaue themselues to him with all their force and might,
For first of all within their heartes, he sowde a knowledge right:
And gaue them reason to discerne in euery kinde of thing,
That in the foming seas, or ayre, or on the earth doth spring.
Thus when the passing force of his almightie name did shine,
He plaste in man a dreadfull feare, of his estate deuine.
Which least it caused fearefull flight, or stirde vp deadly hate,
He ioynde a pleasant loue withall of his excelling state:
Whereby the feare and reurence of his mightie Maiestee,
With felowship of feruent loue might safely guided bee.
For with himselfe he framed man, both Lorde of earth and seas,
And after death to liue with him in euerlasting ease:
Prouiding him to feede vpon the fruite of euery tree,
And pleasant hearbes, that so be might his carefull mercy see.
Who would not with his heart esteeme and loue with all his minde,
A Lorde so good and gracious, and of so gentle kinde?
Yet least that cause of feare should want, and fauour breede disdaine,
And to much welth inflame his heart, and prick his ydle braine:
He gaue him one commaundement, to barre him of his will,
That is, he should not taste the tree of knowing good or ill:
Except they would their life forgo, and lose these giftes of grace.
Besides all this he planted in the deepest of their minde,
That vnto other creatures to, of nature was assignde,
That they ne should with hate pursue their kinde, nor ouerthrow,
But with a friendly faythfull heart eche other friendship show,
And giue aduice what best to doe, and mischiefe how to let,
Such happie seedes in heart of man at first were deepely set,
By him that all thing here did frame, and thus he left this fielde
Of owne accorde, his pleasant fruites and good encrease to yeelde.
In perfite state, and yeelding fruite such as himselfe assignde,
Who wholy gaue themselues to him with all their force and might,
For first of all within their heartes, he sowde a knowledge right:
And gaue them reason to discerne in euery kinde of thing,
That in the foming seas, or ayre, or on the earth doth spring.
Thus when the passing force of his almightie name did shine,
He plaste in man a dreadfull feare, of his estate deuine.
[62]
He ioynde a pleasant loue withall of his excelling state:
Whereby the feare and reurence of his mightie Maiestee,
With felowship of feruent loue might safely guided bee.
For with himselfe he framed man, both Lorde of earth and seas,
And after death to liue with him in euerlasting ease:
Prouiding him to feede vpon the fruite of euery tree,
And pleasant hearbes, that so be might his carefull mercy see.
Who would not with his heart esteeme and loue with all his minde,
A Lorde so good and gracious, and of so gentle kinde?
Yet least that cause of feare should want, and fauour breede disdaine,
And to much welth inflame his heart, and prick his ydle braine:
He gaue him one commaundement, to barre him of his will,
That is, he should not taste the tree of knowing good or ill:
Except they would their life forgo, and lose these giftes of grace.
Besides all this he planted in the deepest of their minde,
That vnto other creatures to, of nature was assignde,
That they ne should with hate pursue their kinde, nor ouerthrow,
But with a friendly faythfull heart eche other friendship show,
And giue aduice what best to doe, and mischiefe how to let,
Such happie seedes in heart of man at first were deepely set,
By him that all thing here did frame, and thus he left this fielde
Of owne accorde, his pleasant fruites and good encrease to yeelde.
But streight the Stygyan Prince that late from skies was hedlong throwne
For prowd presuptuous mutenie & trespas earst vnknowne,
Both hating God himselfe aboue, and all his vertuous deedes,
Began to frowne and lowre on man, and on these pleasant seedes:
Determining these plantes pluckt vp, to sowe contrarie graine.
And taking on himselfe the shape and cloke of Serpent plaine,
Our father first he doth perswade, to breake the sacred hest,
That so he might both rare and pluck due feare from out his brest,
And cease the loue and certaine hope of Gods assistance knowne,
Whereby the ground disordred might with weedes be ouergrowne.
Ne faylde he of his purpose here, for why the womans hart
Consented streight to taste the fruite, and gaue hir husband part.
As ground that long hath lien vntilde, is filled euery where
With humblockes, thornes, and thistles sharpe, and other hurtfull gere:
So was the minde of man opprest with mischiefes fowle and great,
And harmefull things deseruing death, had there abiding seat.
The knowledge of th'almightie Lorde with darkenesse was disgraste,
Our iudgement eke in worldly things, with blindnesse great defaste.
Both feare and reuerence due to God, were banished cleane away,
Loue colde, and hope of helpe deuine did vtterly decay.
In place whereof sprang hate, and flight, contempt of God beside,
And nothing that was good or right, the will corrupt applide.
If any good desire by chaunce, of vertue mooues the minde,
The force doth streight begin to faile, in slouthfull bodie blinde:
And sinne prouokes to greater crime, not suffering them aright
To runne their race, but mooues agaynst the Lord both day and night.
Nor needefull is it much to mooue, for of his proper sway,
Like Lead he alwayes hedlong falles, and runnes the hurtfull way.
Doest thou not see how leauing God, his honour here we giue
To trifles vaine, and wretched men that on the earth doe liue?
If that a king that may to day, or else to morrow die,
Receyue vs into fauour great, and giue vs honour hie,
Or if of glistring golde we haue abundaunce in our handes,
Or haue our bagges with siluer full, to purchase Lordly landes,
Or Iewels great, or precious stones, or costly rich aray,
And friendes in number great about vs dwell and beare the sway,
Or store of lustie souldiors haue, to encounter with the fo:
O Lord how then we looke aloft, how stately then we go?
And thinke our selues in happie case, and blest on euery side,
How fowly doth our filth appeere, to him that all doth guide?
With most men for their God alone, the belly here is thought,
And euery thing as it commaundes, is eyther shund or sought.
Some place a loft on aulters hie the sharpnesse of their wit,
And some the bodyes force, and as a God they worship it.
But no man laboureth so the will of God for to obay,
As all men doe for trifles vaine, that fade and passe away.
Of Gods innumerable sort are found, by feare and loue,
And in the meane time he dispisde that reignes and rules aboue.
What mischiefe can be found, but doth from blinded ignorance spring?
Or what contempt of God? to sweare is thought a decent thing.
With Gods most dreadfull name aboue, both men and children play,
And diffrence none is made betwixt the lawes deuine, and lay.
What God commaundeth to be shund, or willeth to be wrought,
Is to the eares a torment great, and dreadfull poyson thought.
Nor vnto him they seeke for ayde, nor confidence they haue,
But rather seeke to stockes and stones, than him that all doth saue.
No honor to their parents due, at any time they pay,
A hell it is to feele the yoke, or maister to obay.
The minde desires to runne at large, and raunge at libertee,
The bloud doth boyle about the hearts of such as harmed bee:
And slaughters great attempted are, and deadly battayles fought,
And at the wagging of a straw, good lawes are set at nought.
Beside both vile and beastly loue in euerie place doth raigne,
That none can keepe the holy rytes of sacred bed from staine.
The Harlots eke among themselues, their bodyes doe defile:
Who can declare the shamefull theft, and wayes for to beguile,
That commonly with youth doth spring? deceyt doth most delight,
And sweete it seemes an others goodes to get against all right.
And looke what wants in doing wrong, with force and wretched will,
Is recompenst with rayling mouth, and spitefull language ill.
The teeth togither gnash, and poyson fowle abroade do spit,
As well agaynst the vnworthie, as such as deserued it.
Discention sowne, and lyes abrode in eurye place do raigne,
And filthie talke, and wordes vncleane, are vsde of wretches vaine.
The simple man deceyued still, with wordes that fayned bee,
And from the heart the flattring tongue doth alwayes disagree.
As raging seas with boystrous windes do swell aloft and rore,
And driue the mountaynes of their waues against the rocken shore:
Euen so the wretched fiend of man, both euery day and night,
Spewes out his filth, and ioyes to offende the soueraigne Lord of light.
Ne thinkes he meete for him it is to sleepe, to drinke, to eate,
Except he do before commit, some haynous trespasse greate.
For prowd presuptuous mutenie & trespas earst vnknowne,
Both hating God himselfe aboue, and all his vertuous deedes,
Began to frowne and lowre on man, and on these pleasant seedes:
Determining these plantes pluckt vp, to sowe contrarie graine.
And taking on himselfe the shape and cloke of Serpent plaine,
Our father first he doth perswade, to breake the sacred hest,
That so he might both rare and pluck due feare from out his brest,
And cease the loue and certaine hope of Gods assistance knowne,
Whereby the ground disordred might with weedes be ouergrowne.
Ne faylde he of his purpose here, for why the womans hart
Consented streight to taste the fruite, and gaue hir husband part.
63
With humblockes, thornes, and thistles sharpe, and other hurtfull gere:
So was the minde of man opprest with mischiefes fowle and great,
And harmefull things deseruing death, had there abiding seat.
The knowledge of th'almightie Lorde with darkenesse was disgraste,
Our iudgement eke in worldly things, with blindnesse great defaste.
Both feare and reuerence due to God, were banished cleane away,
Loue colde, and hope of helpe deuine did vtterly decay.
In place whereof sprang hate, and flight, contempt of God beside,
And nothing that was good or right, the will corrupt applide.
If any good desire by chaunce, of vertue mooues the minde,
The force doth streight begin to faile, in slouthfull bodie blinde:
And sinne prouokes to greater crime, not suffering them aright
To runne their race, but mooues agaynst the Lord both day and night.
Nor needefull is it much to mooue, for of his proper sway,
Like Lead he alwayes hedlong falles, and runnes the hurtfull way.
Doest thou not see how leauing God, his honour here we giue
To trifles vaine, and wretched men that on the earth doe liue?
If that a king that may to day, or else to morrow die,
Receyue vs into fauour great, and giue vs honour hie,
Or if of glistring golde we haue abundaunce in our handes,
Or haue our bagges with siluer full, to purchase Lordly landes,
Or Iewels great, or precious stones, or costly rich aray,
And friendes in number great about vs dwell and beare the sway,
Or store of lustie souldiors haue, to encounter with the fo:
O Lord how then we looke aloft, how stately then we go?
And thinke our selues in happie case, and blest on euery side,
How fowly doth our filth appeere, to him that all doth guide?
With most men for their God alone, the belly here is thought,
And euery thing as it commaundes, is eyther shund or sought.
Some place a loft on aulters hie the sharpnesse of their wit,
And some the bodyes force, and as a God they worship it.
But no man laboureth so the will of God for to obay,
As all men doe for trifles vaine, that fade and passe away.
Of Gods innumerable sort are found, by feare and loue,
And in the meane time he dispisde that reignes and rules aboue.
[63]
Or what contempt of God? to sweare is thought a decent thing.
With Gods most dreadfull name aboue, both men and children play,
And diffrence none is made betwixt the lawes deuine, and lay.
What God commaundeth to be shund, or willeth to be wrought,
Is to the eares a torment great, and dreadfull poyson thought.
Nor vnto him they seeke for ayde, nor confidence they haue,
But rather seeke to stockes and stones, than him that all doth saue.
No honor to their parents due, at any time they pay,
A hell it is to feele the yoke, or maister to obay.
The minde desires to runne at large, and raunge at libertee,
The bloud doth boyle about the hearts of such as harmed bee:
And slaughters great attempted are, and deadly battayles fought,
And at the wagging of a straw, good lawes are set at nought.
Beside both vile and beastly loue in euerie place doth raigne,
That none can keepe the holy rytes of sacred bed from staine.
The Harlots eke among themselues, their bodyes doe defile:
Who can declare the shamefull theft, and wayes for to beguile,
That commonly with youth doth spring? deceyt doth most delight,
And sweete it seemes an others goodes to get against all right.
And looke what wants in doing wrong, with force and wretched will,
Is recompenst with rayling mouth, and spitefull language ill.
The teeth togither gnash, and poyson fowle abroade do spit,
As well agaynst the vnworthie, as such as deserued it.
Discention sowne, and lyes abrode in eurye place do raigne,
And filthie talke, and wordes vncleane, are vsde of wretches vaine.
The simple man deceyued still, with wordes that fayned bee,
And from the heart the flattring tongue doth alwayes disagree.
As raging seas with boystrous windes do swell aloft and rore,
And driue the mountaynes of their waues against the rocken shore:
Euen so the wretched fiend of man, both euery day and night,
Spewes out his filth, and ioyes to offende the soueraigne Lord of light.
Ne thinkes he meete for him it is to sleepe, to drinke, to eate,
Except he do before commit, some haynous trespasse greate.
Thus in the heart of man the prince of hell had sowne his seedes,
And ouergrowne his precious plantes, with his vngracious weedes,
And had oppressed godlinesse, while it was yet but greene,
That scarcely any where the steppes of vertue might be seene.
And brought vnto the Chaynes of death, and misery all their dayes.
Men first created vnto life, and to th'almighties prayse.
Poore Adam spoyled of his grace, in naked plight and bare,
Perceyued streight this hellish seede and neuer ceassing care.
Wherefore in Figtree vesture clad, himselfe by flight he hydes,
Both doubting of the mercy of God, and of his life besides.
Whose sight he shoonnes, and eke his voyce he quaketh for to heare,
As doth the Chicken of the Kyte, or Oxe of Lion neare.
And surely vnderneath the yoke of death and dreadfull sinne,
Both he and his posteritie, for euermore hath beene:
But that th'almightie Lorde aboue tooke pittie of his case,
And gaue agaynst the deuils thornes, and seede of cursed grace,
A remedie, an other seede, his blessed worde deuine,
And promise of his fauour made, how that in after time,
A holy vertuous man and strong, should rise and succour bring,
And tread vpon the serpents head, and ceasse his deadly sting.
And purge away the sinnes of man, though losse he doe sustaine,
Not voyde of ouerpoyse, but with his profite great and gaine,
Commaunded Adam for to sow this in his sense vnsounde,
To oppresse thereby (if that he could not plucke out of the ground)
The deepe set rootes that Sathans hand had planted there afore,
And so become a husbandman for him and others more,
That after sprang, and so resist by all the meanes he may,
The serpent still with earnest prayer, and with a perfite way:
And for to teach from hand to hand, to his posteritie,
The art and all the whole effect of holy husbandrie,
The comming of the blessed seede, and promises deuine,
That godlinesse and hope of life might still remaine in time,
And be preserued in the worlde: and that he neuer yeeld,
And boldly meete the prince of hell, and face him in the feeld.
He ioying in the worde of God, and in his happie state,
Of skilfull perfite husbandman that he receyude of late,
Withstood the deuill well, and drest his heart with tillage due,
And pluckt out nettles, thistles, and eche other weedes that grue.
And found againe the loue of God, whereof he felt the smell
And in the vertuous order of his life declarde it well.
The fruit of righteousnesse he looude, and all that in him lay,
Represt the raging of the flesh, and caused it to'bay,
He hated euery wicked act, and euery sinfull lore,
That was displeasing vnto God, and all his sinnes before
With prayer and streames of perfite teares, he wypte and washt away,
And all his hope and confidence, in Christ doth surely lay.
And ouergrowne his precious plantes, with his vngracious weedes,
64
That scarcely any where the steppes of vertue might be seene.
And brought vnto the Chaynes of death, and misery all their dayes.
Men first created vnto life, and to th'almighties prayse.
Poore Adam spoyled of his grace, in naked plight and bare,
Perceyued streight this hellish seede and neuer ceassing care.
Wherefore in Figtree vesture clad, himselfe by flight he hydes,
Both doubting of the mercy of God, and of his life besides.
Whose sight he shoonnes, and eke his voyce he quaketh for to heare,
As doth the Chicken of the Kyte, or Oxe of Lion neare.
And surely vnderneath the yoke of death and dreadfull sinne,
Both he and his posteritie, for euermore hath beene:
But that th'almightie Lorde aboue tooke pittie of his case,
And gaue agaynst the deuils thornes, and seede of cursed grace,
A remedie, an other seede, his blessed worde deuine,
And promise of his fauour made, how that in after time,
A holy vertuous man and strong, should rise and succour bring,
And tread vpon the serpents head, and ceasse his deadly sting.
And purge away the sinnes of man, though losse he doe sustaine,
Not voyde of ouerpoyse, but with his profite great and gaine,
Commaunded Adam for to sow this in his sense vnsounde,
To oppresse thereby (if that he could not plucke out of the ground)
The deepe set rootes that Sathans hand had planted there afore,
And so become a husbandman for him and others more,
That after sprang, and so resist by all the meanes he may,
The serpent still with earnest prayer, and with a perfite way:
And for to teach from hand to hand, to his posteritie,
The art and all the whole effect of holy husbandrie,
The comming of the blessed seede, and promises deuine,
That godlinesse and hope of life might still remaine in time,
And be preserued in the worlde: and that he neuer yeeld,
And boldly meete the prince of hell, and face him in the feeld.
He ioying in the worde of God, and in his happie state,
Of skilfull perfite husbandman that he receyude of late,
Withstood the deuill well, and drest his heart with tillage due,
And pluckt out nettles, thistles, and eche other weedes that grue.
[64]
And in the vertuous order of his life declarde it well.
The fruit of righteousnesse he looude, and all that in him lay,
Represt the raging of the flesh, and caused it to'bay,
He hated euery wicked act, and euery sinfull lore,
That was displeasing vnto God, and all his sinnes before
With prayer and streames of perfite teares, he wypte and washt away,
And all his hope and confidence, in Christ doth surely lay.
This same vnto his wife he taught, and to his children deare,
And all his ofspring euery one vnto his latest yeare:
And then to Seth he left the plowe, who eke committed it
To Enock, that applyde it well, with all his force and wit,
And sowde the worde and fayth abrode, with luckie fruitfull hande,
And so did all the yonger sort that after ought the lande.
And all his ofspring euery one vnto his latest yeare:
And then to Seth he left the plowe, who eke committed it
To Enock, that applyde it well, with all his force and wit,
And sowde the worde and fayth abrode, with luckie fruitfull hande,
And so did all the yonger sort that after ought the lande.
Olde Sathan hating all this while, the seede so promised,
The chiefe esteemers of the same, and faithfull brotherhed,
And seeking all men for to drawe vnto th'infernall raigne,
Applyde himselfe with all his force, and all his hellish traine,
To ouerthrow these fathers deedes, and all their worke to spoyle,
And vnder cloke of truth with lyes, he poysons all the soyle:
And in the steede of Godly feare, he sinfull life reuiues,
With heapes of vice, and Godly seedes to spoyle againe he striues.
And now amid the pleasant corne the pricking thistle flowes,
And gracelesse cockle lothsome to the eye it ouergrowes.
Sometime the raging stormes of haile doth beate it to the ground,
And oft consuming wormes, and drake, and darnell there is found,
Or mildewes fowle, or stormes of raine, or heate, or frostie coldes,
Sometime a sunder crackes the plowe, while Camock strongly holdes.
Not much the plowmen then preuaylde, and Cayne did first beginns
To hate his fathers husbandrie, and sowe the seedes of sinne:
Whom all his issue folowed fast, as one of greatest skill,
And better fruite might not be seene, than this so lewde and ill,
Nor godlinesse was to be found in all the world so wide,
So that th'almightie father drownde both man and earth beside,
And euery creature hauing life, as iustly they deserude,
Saue one poore Barke, that in the flouds of mercie he preserude.
What should I all things call to minde? the world renude againe,
Not long regarded vertuous wordes, but folowed pleasures vaine.
Eche godly thing was lothde and left, as men did fast increase,
So all things waxed worse and worse, and vertue gan to cease.
Although the guide of heauen and earth, did euermore prouide,
For husbandmen and prophets good, and sent his sonne beside,
In vesture clad of fading fleshe, of workemen all the chiefe,
And author of our life: who though he sent for our reliefe,
His messengers and seruaunts forth abrode in euery place,
To teach the perfite art and way, and sow the seedes of grace:
Yet of the dreadfull dragon blacke preuayled much the heed,
To tread and stampe in euery place vpon this sacred seed.
The seedes of Gods triumphant worde, were neuer so largely sowne,
Nor couered in the heart of man, nor vertue better growne,
Nor in so many places seene such store of goodly graine,
As when these holy Messengers, and their disciples plaine,
Did teach in euery place abrode the arte of husbandrie,
And trode the steps of vertuous life for their posteritie.
But streight the enimie poysoned all, and brought it vnto this,
That godlynesse in few remaynde, and most men ranne amisse,
And put not for eternall life in Christ their onely trust,
So many weedes of herisies among the corne he thrust,
And monstruous droues of rauening wolues, such fierce debate & strife,
So many superstitions vaine, and such deformed life.
Now these with raging furious heate, he causeth for to start:
Now those with frostie coldes congeald, he nyppeth to the hart.
And looke how much this wretched worlde to ende doth nearer grow,
So much the more he striues the raigne of Christ to ouerthrow:
And with his filthie seede, the heart of man to cast away,
Nor much he forceth them herein, that fall by proper sway.
The olde remaynes of sinfull rocke, is vnto him an ayde,
So is the lusting force of flesh, with raigne and hed vnstayde.
The chiefe esteemers of the same, and faithfull brotherhed,
And seeking all men for to drawe vnto th'infernall raigne,
Applyde himselfe with all his force, and all his hellish traine,
To ouerthrow these fathers deedes, and all their worke to spoyle,
And vnder cloke of truth with lyes, he poysons all the soyle:
And in the steede of Godly feare, he sinfull life reuiues,
With heapes of vice, and Godly seedes to spoyle againe he striues.
And now amid the pleasant corne the pricking thistle flowes,
And gracelesse cockle lothsome to the eye it ouergrowes.
Sometime the raging stormes of haile doth beate it to the ground,
And oft consuming wormes, and drake, and darnell there is found,
Or mildewes fowle, or stormes of raine, or heate, or frostie coldes,
Sometime a sunder crackes the plowe, while Camock strongly holdes.
Not much the plowmen then preuaylde, and Cayne did first beginns
To hate his fathers husbandrie, and sowe the seedes of sinne:
Whom all his issue folowed fast, as one of greatest skill,
And better fruite might not be seene, than this so lewde and ill,
Nor godlinesse was to be found in all the world so wide,
So that th'almightie father drownde both man and earth beside,
And euery creature hauing life, as iustly they deserude,
Saue one poore Barke, that in the flouds of mercie he preserude.
65
Not long regarded vertuous wordes, but folowed pleasures vaine.
Eche godly thing was lothde and left, as men did fast increase,
So all things waxed worse and worse, and vertue gan to cease.
Although the guide of heauen and earth, did euermore prouide,
For husbandmen and prophets good, and sent his sonne beside,
In vesture clad of fading fleshe, of workemen all the chiefe,
And author of our life: who though he sent for our reliefe,
His messengers and seruaunts forth abrode in euery place,
To teach the perfite art and way, and sow the seedes of grace:
Yet of the dreadfull dragon blacke preuayled much the heed,
To tread and stampe in euery place vpon this sacred seed.
The seedes of Gods triumphant worde, were neuer so largely sowne,
Nor couered in the heart of man, nor vertue better growne,
Nor in so many places seene such store of goodly graine,
As when these holy Messengers, and their disciples plaine,
Did teach in euery place abrode the arte of husbandrie,
And trode the steps of vertuous life for their posteritie.
But streight the enimie poysoned all, and brought it vnto this,
That godlynesse in few remaynde, and most men ranne amisse,
And put not for eternall life in Christ their onely trust,
So many weedes of herisies among the corne he thrust,
And monstruous droues of rauening wolues, such fierce debate & strife,
So many superstitions vaine, and such deformed life.
Now these with raging furious heate, he causeth for to start:
Now those with frostie coldes congeald, he nyppeth to the hart.
And looke how much this wretched worlde to ende doth nearer grow,
So much the more he striues the raigne of Christ to ouerthrow:
And with his filthie seede, the heart of man to cast away,
Nor much he forceth them herein, that fall by proper sway.
The olde remaynes of sinfull rocke, is vnto him an ayde,
So is the lusting force of flesh, with raigne and hed vnstayde.
Agaynst these ylles the ruler of the loftie heauens bright,
Sendes out his learned labourers, that ouerturning quight
All wickednesse, and driuing hence the darkenesse farre away,
True godlinesse may plaine appeare, and vertue beare the sway.
And euery one with heart and might, his holy will obay,
And follow perfite righteousnesse, and hate the wicked way.
By whome they may restore the hearts, where Sathan had his seat,
Euen as to let of woonted course the running riuer great,
And make it passe the mountaynes hie, or else to quench the flame
That entred hath the dryest woods, and rageth in the same.
The paine is great to labor thus agaynst the sturdie streames,
Or for to bend the aged bough growne hard with Phœbus beames.
And as the paynes are great, so great rewardes thou shalt enioy,
When Christ shall shed the stinking Goates that did his flocke annoy.
When as the dreadfull day of doome, and clearest light shall shine,
That shall reueale how euery man hath wrought and spent his time.
And therefore shrinke not for no paynes, if that thou mindst the skies,
If that thou seekste to see the face of God with happie eies.
Sendes out his learned labourers, that ouerturning quight
All wickednesse, and driuing hence the darkenesse farre away,
True godlinesse may plaine appeare, and vertue beare the sway.
[65]
And follow perfite righteousnesse, and hate the wicked way.
By whome they may restore the hearts, where Sathan had his seat,
Euen as to let of woonted course the running riuer great,
And make it passe the mountaynes hie, or else to quench the flame
That entred hath the dryest woods, and rageth in the same.
The paine is great to labor thus agaynst the sturdie streames,
Or for to bend the aged bough growne hard with Phœbus beames.
And as the paynes are great, so great rewardes thou shalt enioy,
When Christ shall shed the stinking Goates that did his flocke annoy.
When as the dreadfull day of doome, and clearest light shall shine,
That shall reueale how euery man hath wrought and spent his time.
And therefore shrinke not for no paynes, if that thou mindst the skies,
If that thou seekste to see the face of God with happie eies.
But who deserues so great a gaine, and such a stately charge?
Or who is meete to tyll and dresse a soyle so fayre and large?
As no man takes the Ores in hand, nor thrustes the plow in ground,
Or guides the sayling ship on sea, or Captaine may be found,
Except he wise and actiue be, and taught his skill in time:
So none can out of hande be meete to till the soyle deuine.
His paterne and his fashion eke, my Muses let vs see,
And howe from youth in euery poynt, he framed ought to bee:
What kinde of man in all respects, and after let vs tell,
The maner how he ought to teach, and order all things well.
Or who is meete to tyll and dresse a soyle so fayre and large?
As no man takes the Ores in hand, nor thrustes the plow in ground,
Or guides the sayling ship on sea, or Captaine may be found,
Except he wise and actiue be, and taught his skill in time:
So none can out of hande be meete to till the soyle deuine.
His paterne and his fashion eke, my Muses let vs see,
And howe from youth in euery poynt, he framed ought to bee:
What kinde of man in all respects, and after let vs tell,
The maner how he ought to teach, and order all things well.
First let the fauour of his face be good, and countnance clere,
Not staynd with lothsome colourde mowle, nor speckled here and there,
Nor mangled any where with cuttes, nor let his hed be hie,
Or pyked like a Sugerlofe, not set with hanging eie,
As lowring Bulles are alwayes markte, ne let them hollow bee,
Deepe setled in their darkned dennes, no Cocles let vs see,
Nor any blearde or squinteyde mate, no hooked hawkish beake,
Nor short and apish turnde vp nose, nor Pypers puft vp cheake,
Nor toothde like dogges: who knowes not eke that tillers may not bee
Dumbe, deafe, or lame, or stammerers, or such as cannot see?
Away with broken limping legges, and halting hips beside,
No mowlehill caryed on the backe, nor wennes the throte to hide.
No lymme nor member let there want, but all in order due,
And in proportion comely framde, and pleasant to the vew.
Least Vulcane with his crooked pace delight the scornefull sort,
Or with some other fault or maime, do make the people sport,
Resembling Thersit in his looke, or else Corites face,
Or Esope in his lothsome shape, or Damon in his grace.
Ne let him of a harlot be borne of vnhonest fame,
By common rut as beastes do vse, or villaines voyde of shame.
This also must be lookte vnto, what trade his parents vsed,
If no reprochfull kinde of arte that ought to be refused,
They liude vpon, for trade of life doth often hinder much,
And let the worde, that as it should the heart it cannot tuch.
Of these things also other causes mayst thou many bring,
For though it lyes not in our power, and though it be a thing
We can not doe withall nor helpe, what shape soeuer fall,
By fowle mishap or parents fault, yet he that gouernes all,
Createth nothing here in vaine. For if the fashion right
Of things be altred here from good, and nature chaunged quight,
It doth declare some great mishap, and is a perfite signe
Of Gods appoynted punishment, and of his wrath diuine.
If that the same be stainde with blacke, against his nature cleare,
Or that the moone before the full eclypsed doe appeare:
If in the glistring starrie night, a blasing starre doe rise,
And armed men in clowdes appeare, and skirmish in the skies:
If sodenly the sunne do stay, or Planets runnes awrie:
If dreadfull streames of bloud doe gush and fall from heauens hie:
Or if amid the market place a sauage Woolfe doe stande,
Or beast doe speake, who can suppose that goodnesse is at hande?
Who feares not streight the wrath of God, or who that hath his wit,
Will not conceyue some great mischaunce to happen after it?
Both nature and examples eke perswades vs to the same,
The Grecians eft the signes of God haue felt of auncient fame.
The like in many ouerthrowes the Romanes prowde haue knowne,
Nor rashly seemed the oxe to warne, that Rome should kepe hir owne.
Sagunthus sacked, and all hir men in cruell order slaine,
Did shew the infant entred not his mothers wombe in vaine:
Did not the armyes, sworde, and cart, that God in clowds did sende,
Foreshow Hierusalems decay, and miserable ende?
And Xerxes might in field before his legges for flight prepare,
When as a Mare amongst his campe did fole a flying Hare.
The monstruous foling of a Moyle beside, did plainly show
The loftie walles of Babilon should haue an ouerthrow.
We all abhorre these monstrous birthes, as nature vs doth mooue,
And seldome after them is seene, doth any goodnesse prooue.
But most of all if women chaunce, such monstrous shapes to beare,
If nature faile in those that are the worldly rulers heare.
For sure the outward countnaunce doth declare the inwarde minde,
And what lyes hid in secret sense, of good or yll we finde.
Of any foule yll fauoured face, what lookste thou for but yll?
And who doth not his talke abhorre, and shunne his presence styll?
For these misshapen folkes vnto themselues or other men,
Betoken harme, or else a signe of froward witte in them.
Therefore let not our husbandman be shapte yll fauouredly,
Nor any such whose parents haue bene staynde with infamie.
Not staynd with lothsome colourde mowle, nor speckled here and there,
Nor mangled any where with cuttes, nor let his hed be hie,
Or pyked like a Sugerlofe, not set with hanging eie,
As lowring Bulles are alwayes markte, ne let them hollow bee,
Deepe setled in their darkned dennes, no Cocles let vs see,
Nor any blearde or squinteyde mate, no hooked hawkish beake,
Nor short and apish turnde vp nose, nor Pypers puft vp cheake,
Nor toothde like dogges: who knowes not eke that tillers may not bee
Dumbe, deafe, or lame, or stammerers, or such as cannot see?
Away with broken limping legges, and halting hips beside,
No mowlehill caryed on the backe, nor wennes the throte to hide.
66
And in proportion comely framde, and pleasant to the vew.
Least Vulcane with his crooked pace delight the scornefull sort,
Or with some other fault or maime, do make the people sport,
Resembling Thersit in his looke, or else Corites face,
Or Esope in his lothsome shape, or Damon in his grace.
Ne let him of a harlot be borne of vnhonest fame,
By common rut as beastes do vse, or villaines voyde of shame.
This also must be lookte vnto, what trade his parents vsed,
If no reprochfull kinde of arte that ought to be refused,
They liude vpon, for trade of life doth often hinder much,
And let the worde, that as it should the heart it cannot tuch.
Of these things also other causes mayst thou many bring,
For though it lyes not in our power, and though it be a thing
We can not doe withall nor helpe, what shape soeuer fall,
By fowle mishap or parents fault, yet he that gouernes all,
Createth nothing here in vaine. For if the fashion right
Of things be altred here from good, and nature chaunged quight,
It doth declare some great mishap, and is a perfite signe
Of Gods appoynted punishment, and of his wrath diuine.
If that the same be stainde with blacke, against his nature cleare,
Or that the moone before the full eclypsed doe appeare:
If in the glistring starrie night, a blasing starre doe rise,
And armed men in clowdes appeare, and skirmish in the skies:
If sodenly the sunne do stay, or Planets runnes awrie:
If dreadfull streames of bloud doe gush and fall from heauens hie:
Or if amid the market place a sauage Woolfe doe stande,
Or beast doe speake, who can suppose that goodnesse is at hande?
Who feares not streight the wrath of God, or who that hath his wit,
Will not conceyue some great mischaunce to happen after it?
Both nature and examples eke perswades vs to the same,
The Grecians eft the signes of God haue felt of auncient fame.
The like in many ouerthrowes the Romanes prowde haue knowne,
Nor rashly seemed the oxe to warne, that Rome should kepe hir owne.
Sagunthus sacked, and all hir men in cruell order slaine,
Did shew the infant entred not his mothers wombe in vaine:
[66]
Foreshow Hierusalems decay, and miserable ende?
And Xerxes might in field before his legges for flight prepare,
When as a Mare amongst his campe did fole a flying Hare.
The monstruous foling of a Moyle beside, did plainly show
The loftie walles of Babilon should haue an ouerthrow.
We all abhorre these monstrous birthes, as nature vs doth mooue,
And seldome after them is seene, doth any goodnesse prooue.
But most of all if women chaunce, such monstrous shapes to beare,
If nature faile in those that are the worldly rulers heare.
For sure the outward countnaunce doth declare the inwarde minde,
And what lyes hid in secret sense, of good or yll we finde.
Of any foule yll fauoured face, what lookste thou for but yll?
And who doth not his talke abhorre, and shunne his presence styll?
For these misshapen folkes vnto themselues or other men,
Betoken harme, or else a signe of froward witte in them.
Therefore let not our husbandman be shapte yll fauouredly,
Nor any such whose parents haue bene staynde with infamie.
And if it might be done, I would (a thing we seldome see)
That in his tender youth he should in vertue trayned bee,
And from his childhoode learne to loue the Lord, and him to dread,
And euermore commit himselfe to Christ his soueraigne head:
And worship him with harmelesse hart, in deede and worde alwayes,
And seeke the thing that most may sounde to his most worthie prayse.
Likewise to pray that from the skies the blessed holy spright
On him may fall: by whome he may teach Christ to all men right.
Let him to parents dutie shew, and honor learne to giue
To eche man as his place requires, and as he here doth liue.
I would beside he should be kept with vertuous companie,
And shunne the gracelesse sort of youth, that vse to prate and lie:
Least that his fellowes him infect with maners lewde and yll,
That hardly after will be left for any care or skill.
The die that wooll doth first receyue, will hardly out be got,
No more than on the Tables newe the first deformed spot.
And this beside importeth much, if that the parents heare,
The nourse, and eke the schoolemaister be good, and Christ do feare.
Thus would I haue him liue with men that good and vertuous bee,
In yongest yeares, when as you list you bow the tender tree.
And filthie wordes he may not heare, nor vse at any time,
Nor with his eyes beholde the thing that may to yll encline.
Besides in Countrie language must he haue a perfite skill,
And remedie be had, if that his wordes he vtter ill.
Nor onely in the vulgar tongue he must be throughly seene,
But also in the fountaynes sweete of Latine phrases cleene,
And taught the best Gramarians that olde or newe haue ben,
And read the purest wryters first, as Cato teacheth him,
And heare the best, least barbarousnesse do him in youth infect,
Which once a man, he must forsake and vtterly reiect.
The Romane speach doth profite much, as openly is seene,
Which of all other languages, in Europe is the Queene.
The auncient Romanes as they did their Empire large extende,
Unto the frostie Northren pole, where earth doth seeme to ende,
And to the flouds of Euphrates, and mightie Parthians raigne,
To foote of loftie Atlas mount, that doth the skies sustaine:
So was their tongue through all the worlde dispersed here and there,
And for their scepter and their sworde, was reurenst eurye where.
For in this tongue the subiects all their aunswere euer had,
And all their prowde Edicts and lawes, in this were likewise made.
And hitherto wheresoeuer the Empire large of Rome doth raigne,
In estimation is it had, and honour great doth gaine.
Besides it famous is for holy bookes and woorkes prophane,
Wherein to haue no skill, were to our husbandman a shame.
By this we tread the path that leades to eurye science hie,
Whereto by vulgar speach, we neuer can approch so nie.
For this same cause, and for the learnde and godly wryters sake,
That long tyme since in teaching Christ, did paines and trauaile take.
Let him the Grecians tongue pervse: and for the volumes graue
Of Moyses and the Prophets olde, the Hebrue let him haue.
And ioyne thereto the Chaldean speach: the water that is shed
Thorow many vessels, cooles not so as doth the fountaynes hed.
Eche thing himselfe let him pervse, and knowe the speach deuine,
And not depend on other men, to preach as they assigne.
Therefore let him apply the tongues, wherein were first enrolde
The holy lawes that God did giue vnto our fathers olde.
And weigh the rules and titles well, and what eche worde doth means
Know perfitely, that in the phrase he may be throughly seene.
For of the name a knowledge great in matters oft is sound,
And fond it is for men to talke, and not to know their ground.
Wherein a number great of men haue mooude the skilfull sort,
To laugh to scorne their ignorance, whereof they made a sport.
For as in all things, names and wordes doe greatly signifie,
So most of all in scriptures where both oft and commonly,
The letters small and little prickes, doe misteries containe,
Which no good man will sleightly way or count as matters vaine.
The figures and the diuers tropes that in these speaches are,
Let him beside well vnderstand, for oft the sense they marre
That are vnskilfull in the same, whereby they vtter lyes
Unto the simple common sort in steede of verities.
Whence springs such heapes of errors nowe as at this day doe raigne,
Or hurly burlyes that do rage among the people vaine:
But onely that a great sort are, so to the letters bounde,
As can no Metaphor allowe, nor any figure sounde?
Of this must mischiefe needes ensue, no tropes yet I allow,
Except the text require the same, or charitie auow.
For in the scripture certaintie the people must be taught,
And one thing still that they may know, what good and what is naught.
Nor meete it is to force the phrase, to senses many mo,
When nothing doth compell thee from the verie wordes to go,
Least things assurde he doubtfull made, and charitie be broke,
Nor any phrase may iudged be by figure to be spoke,
Except the same in other place be open told and plaine,
For else to thinke a mysterie in figure hid is vaine.
That speach doth most delight the eares, and winnes the peoples prayse
That sundrie sortes is varied oft, and turnde a thousand wayes.
But thou take heede thou dost not wrest, the text out of his kinde,
Nor play with holy scriptures, for to please thy foolish minde:
Which now is vsde of many men, a dreadfull thing to see.
Consider thou and ponder well, what thing may meetest bee,
And profite most the common sort, and rude vnruly traine,
Before that thou delight their eares, or play with them in vaine.
That in his tender youth he should in vertue trayned bee,
And from his childhoode learne to loue the Lord, and him to dread,
And euermore commit himselfe to Christ his soueraigne head:
And worship him with harmelesse hart, in deede and worde alwayes,
And seeke the thing that most may sounde to his most worthie prayse.
Likewise to pray that from the skies the blessed holy spright
On him may fall: by whome he may teach Christ to all men right.
Let him to parents dutie shew, and honor learne to giue
To eche man as his place requires, and as he here doth liue.
I would beside he should be kept with vertuous companie,
And shunne the gracelesse sort of youth, that vse to prate and lie:
Least that his fellowes him infect with maners lewde and yll,
That hardly after will be left for any care or skill.
The die that wooll doth first receyue, will hardly out be got,
No more than on the Tables newe the first deformed spot.
And this beside importeth much, if that the parents heare,
The nourse, and eke the schoolemaister be good, and Christ do feare.
67
In yongest yeares, when as you list you bow the tender tree.
And filthie wordes he may not heare, nor vse at any time,
Nor with his eyes beholde the thing that may to yll encline.
Besides in Countrie language must he haue a perfite skill,
And remedie be had, if that his wordes he vtter ill.
Nor onely in the vulgar tongue he must be throughly seene,
But also in the fountaynes sweete of Latine phrases cleene,
And taught the best Gramarians that olde or newe haue ben,
And read the purest wryters first, as Cato teacheth him,
And heare the best, least barbarousnesse do him in youth infect,
Which once a man, he must forsake and vtterly reiect.
The Romane speach doth profite much, as openly is seene,
Which of all other languages, in Europe is the Queene.
The auncient Romanes as they did their Empire large extende,
Unto the frostie Northren pole, where earth doth seeme to ende,
And to the flouds of Euphrates, and mightie Parthians raigne,
To foote of loftie Atlas mount, that doth the skies sustaine:
So was their tongue through all the worlde dispersed here and there,
And for their scepter and their sworde, was reurenst eurye where.
For in this tongue the subiects all their aunswere euer had,
And all their prowde Edicts and lawes, in this were likewise made.
And hitherto wheresoeuer the Empire large of Rome doth raigne,
In estimation is it had, and honour great doth gaine.
Besides it famous is for holy bookes and woorkes prophane,
Wherein to haue no skill, were to our husbandman a shame.
By this we tread the path that leades to eurye science hie,
Whereto by vulgar speach, we neuer can approch so nie.
For this same cause, and for the learnde and godly wryters sake,
That long tyme since in teaching Christ, did paines and trauaile take.
Let him the Grecians tongue pervse: and for the volumes graue
Of Moyses and the Prophets olde, the Hebrue let him haue.
And ioyne thereto the Chaldean speach: the water that is shed
Thorow many vessels, cooles not so as doth the fountaynes hed.
Eche thing himselfe let him pervse, and knowe the speach deuine,
And not depend on other men, to preach as they assigne.
[67]
The holy lawes that God did giue vnto our fathers olde.
And weigh the rules and titles well, and what eche worde doth means
Know perfitely, that in the phrase he may be throughly seene.
For of the name a knowledge great in matters oft is sound,
And fond it is for men to talke, and not to know their ground.
Wherein a number great of men haue mooude the skilfull sort,
To laugh to scorne their ignorance, whereof they made a sport.
For as in all things, names and wordes doe greatly signifie,
So most of all in scriptures where both oft and commonly,
The letters small and little prickes, doe misteries containe,
Which no good man will sleightly way or count as matters vaine.
The figures and the diuers tropes that in these speaches are,
Let him beside well vnderstand, for oft the sense they marre
That are vnskilfull in the same, whereby they vtter lyes
Unto the simple common sort in steede of verities.
Whence springs such heapes of errors nowe as at this day doe raigne,
Or hurly burlyes that do rage among the people vaine:
But onely that a great sort are, so to the letters bounde,
As can no Metaphor allowe, nor any figure sounde?
Of this must mischiefe needes ensue, no tropes yet I allow,
Except the text require the same, or charitie auow.
For in the scripture certaintie the people must be taught,
And one thing still that they may know, what good and what is naught.
Nor meete it is to force the phrase, to senses many mo,
When nothing doth compell thee from the verie wordes to go,
Least things assurde he doubtfull made, and charitie be broke,
Nor any phrase may iudged be by figure to be spoke,
Except the same in other place be open told and plaine,
For else to thinke a mysterie in figure hid is vaine.
That speach doth most delight the eares, and winnes the peoples prayse
That sundrie sortes is varied oft, and turnde a thousand wayes.
But thou take heede thou dost not wrest, the text out of his kinde,
Nor play with holy scriptures, for to please thy foolish minde:
Which now is vsde of many men, a dreadfull thing to see.
Consider thou and ponder well, what thing may meetest bee,
68
Before that thou delight their eares, or play with them in vaine.
Not onely olde Palæmons arte, our husbandmen must haue,
But great Chrysippus cunning to, and skill of Zeno graue,
Not therewithall to scolde or brawle, as schoole men vse to play,
Or to beguile the simple sort, and wipe the truth away:
But better to defend the dartes of deadly enimie,
Or for to breake the snares and ginnes of such as teach awrie.
For theirs it is aboue the rest to aunswere all men here,
That question mooue of faith and hope, or doubtes that doe appere,
To keepe their doctrine and their flocke, agaynst the greedie woolfe.
Now if they know the snares and trappes, and depth of euery goolfe,
And easly can discerne the truth, and falshood put away,
Then still the truth they shall preserue, and neuer it betray,
Nor cause it to be iested at, nor for to suffer wrong.
For if to mortall mysers here, destruction doth belong,
That know not Christ the sauiour hie, nor his religion pure:
What shall we of the teachers thinke, whose want of skill procure,
Not to themselues alone, but to a hundred thousand mo,
By error harme, who led to hell by their perswasion go.
But great Chrysippus cunning to, and skill of Zeno graue,
Not therewithall to scolde or brawle, as schoole men vse to play,
Or to beguile the simple sort, and wipe the truth away:
But better to defend the dartes of deadly enimie,
Or for to breake the snares and ginnes of such as teach awrie.
For theirs it is aboue the rest to aunswere all men here,
That question mooue of faith and hope, or doubtes that doe appere,
To keepe their doctrine and their flocke, agaynst the greedie woolfe.
Now if they know the snares and trappes, and depth of euery goolfe,
And easly can discerne the truth, and falshood put away,
Then still the truth they shall preserue, and neuer it betray,
Nor cause it to be iested at, nor for to suffer wrong.
For if to mortall mysers here, destruction doth belong,
That know not Christ the sauiour hie, nor his religion pure:
What shall we of the teachers thinke, whose want of skill procure,
Not to themselues alone, but to a hundred thousand mo,
By error harme, who led to hell by their perswasion go.
Who doubtes that reading of the workes of famous Cicero,
Is needefull for our husbandman, and well agreeing tho,
The art of speaking faire and plaine, this meetest is to know,
The pleasant filed speach that from the learned breast doth flow,
The quick and well perswading tongue, that knowes wel how to deale
What matters secrete for to keepe, and what for to reueale:
And to obserue the chaunge of time the persons and the place,
This is the plowe of husbandmen, that riddeth worke apace.
Let children out of order prate, and people gape and gale,
It doth beseeme a preacher well, by art to frame his tale.
Nor any thing against vs heare the minde of Paule doth make,
Nor yet vnlearned kinde of wordes, that Christes Apostles spake.
Where diuers causes euer be (as hath bene alwayes sayde)
Effects are diuers to be seene, and to be thorowly wayde.
We may not therefore follow them, in euery thing aright,
Since that our causes differ much, and case is altred quight.
Who knoweth not that otherwise we alwayes ought to speake,
Unto the learnde and skilfull sort, than to the yong and weake?
The first beginnings of our fayth, they did the Gentiles teach,
Which needed not a filed phraise, and curious tongue to preach,
But rather of the power of God to mooue them therevnto.
Wherefore the Lorde did giue them power, great wonders for to do.
That might vnto the worde giue force, though learning were away,
That thus perswaded to the fayth, they could not truely say
That eloquence had trayned them for to beleeue on Christ,
But that it was the holy spirite and vertue of the hiest.
Beside the principles may not be taught, by curious art or wit,
Nor needes a Rhethoricians tongue in the perswading it.
But stedfastly we must beleeue the first beginnings well,
Therefore it is but vaine, a fine and pleasant tale to tell,
Unto the rude vnskilfull sort, that doe the groundes denie,
As of no myracles they neede, nor wonders from the skie,
That knowe the true and certaine path, and after Christ haue sought,
But from the Craddle, Christ and his decrees to vs are tought.
In these our tender yeares we neede plaine wordes, not loftie speach,
But rather ayde of holy spirite, and faythfull man to teach.
But after Christ and fayth is got, then vse the finest kinde,
Of Rhetoricke, and colours all, to mooue the slouthfull minde.
Inflame their hartes with loue of Christ, and God continually,
Perswade them wickednesse to hate and all Idolatry:
And vertue alwayes to embrace, in goodnesse to delight,
And wickednesse to shunne and hate, and euery sinfull sight,
To leaue their hard and flintie hartes, prouoking God to yre,
To feare the threatnings of his worde, and euerlasting fyre:
To shed their saltish teares for sinne, and all their confidence
On Gods great mercie for to set (who pardons eche offence)
Assured of his fauour great, extolting him alway:
On this bestow thy Rhetoricke, and all that thou canst say.
And likewise if thou chosen be, to fight against the traine
Of Sathan, errors to suppresse, and truth for to maintaine.
For though as sharpe and fierie sworde, the worde of God we see,
Doth pearce into the deepest part of hardest hearts that bee:
And as a heauie hammer great, breakes all that doth withstand,
Yet is the force increased much, by helpe of perfite hand:
Euen as the wounde is deeper cut, that stronger hand doth make,
And sooner breake ye stone, which maule with stronger arme doth shake.
Use Rethoricke therefore husbandman, and set thy whole delight,
In furthring of the worde of God with all thy force and might.
For Paule among the perfite sort, did deepely still entreate,
And fed the weaker sort with milke, refusing stronger meate.
What should I shewe how eloquent they were, and eke how fine,
That wrote their worthie volumes neare vnto the Apostles time.
Choose where thou likest among the Greekes, or all the Latine rowtes,
None hateth Rethoricke certainely, but slouthfull drowsie lowtes,
And gorbellyes that euermore doe set their whole delight,
In liuing lasily at home, and sleeping day and night.
Is needefull for our husbandman, and well agreeing tho,
The art of speaking faire and plaine, this meetest is to know,
The pleasant filed speach that from the learned breast doth flow,
The quick and well perswading tongue, that knowes wel how to deale
What matters secrete for to keepe, and what for to reueale:
And to obserue the chaunge of time the persons and the place,
This is the plowe of husbandmen, that riddeth worke apace.
Let children out of order prate, and people gape and gale,
It doth beseeme a preacher well, by art to frame his tale.
Nor any thing against vs heare the minde of Paule doth make,
Nor yet vnlearned kinde of wordes, that Christes Apostles spake.
Where diuers causes euer be (as hath bene alwayes sayde)
Effects are diuers to be seene, and to be thorowly wayde.
We may not therefore follow them, in euery thing aright,
Since that our causes differ much, and case is altred quight.
[68]
Unto the learnde and skilfull sort, than to the yong and weake?
The first beginnings of our fayth, they did the Gentiles teach,
Which needed not a filed phraise, and curious tongue to preach,
But rather of the power of God to mooue them therevnto.
Wherefore the Lorde did giue them power, great wonders for to do.
That might vnto the worde giue force, though learning were away,
That thus perswaded to the fayth, they could not truely say
That eloquence had trayned them for to beleeue on Christ,
But that it was the holy spirite and vertue of the hiest.
Beside the principles may not be taught, by curious art or wit,
Nor needes a Rhethoricians tongue in the perswading it.
But stedfastly we must beleeue the first beginnings well,
Therefore it is but vaine, a fine and pleasant tale to tell,
Unto the rude vnskilfull sort, that doe the groundes denie,
As of no myracles they neede, nor wonders from the skie,
That knowe the true and certaine path, and after Christ haue sought,
But from the Craddle, Christ and his decrees to vs are tought.
In these our tender yeares we neede plaine wordes, not loftie speach,
But rather ayde of holy spirite, and faythfull man to teach.
But after Christ and fayth is got, then vse the finest kinde,
Of Rhetoricke, and colours all, to mooue the slouthfull minde.
Inflame their hartes with loue of Christ, and God continually,
Perswade them wickednesse to hate and all Idolatry:
And vertue alwayes to embrace, in goodnesse to delight,
And wickednesse to shunne and hate, and euery sinfull sight,
To leaue their hard and flintie hartes, prouoking God to yre,
To feare the threatnings of his worde, and euerlasting fyre:
To shed their saltish teares for sinne, and all their confidence
On Gods great mercie for to set (who pardons eche offence)
Assured of his fauour great, extolting him alway:
On this bestow thy Rhetoricke, and all that thou canst say.
And likewise if thou chosen be, to fight against the traine
Of Sathan, errors to suppresse, and truth for to maintaine.
For though as sharpe and fierie sworde, the worde of God we see,
Doth pearce into the deepest part of hardest hearts that bee:
69
Yet is the force increased much, by helpe of perfite hand:
Euen as the wounde is deeper cut, that stronger hand doth make,
And sooner breake ye stone, which maule with stronger arme doth shake.
Use Rethoricke therefore husbandman, and set thy whole delight,
In furthring of the worde of God with all thy force and might.
For Paule among the perfite sort, did deepely still entreate,
And fed the weaker sort with milke, refusing stronger meate.
What should I shewe how eloquent they were, and eke how fine,
That wrote their worthie volumes neare vnto the Apostles time.
Choose where thou likest among the Greekes, or all the Latine rowtes,
None hateth Rethoricke certainely, but slouthfull drowsie lowtes,
And gorbellyes that euermore doe set their whole delight,
In liuing lasily at home, and sleeping day and night.
Our husbandman must yet attempt, the other studyes all,
That tearmed are of auncient men, the learnings liberall,
None of the things that here to God or man belonging bee,
Are voyde of number dealt withall. Th'almightie Maiestee
Framde eche thing with his perfite poyse, and numbred euery thing,
The art of numbring pleasant is, and profite great doth bring.
In this alone from brutishe beastes, we men doe differ here,
So would th'almightie king, when first he made vs rule to bere,
And Lordes of all things that he framde, appoynted vs to bee,
That perfitely we might pervse eche thing in his degree,
That in the skies or earth he made, eche thing he did deuide,
Both generally, particular, and minutes small beside:
That waying so his wondrous workes, and vsing well the same,
We should extoll his worthinesse, and prayse his holy name.
That tearmed are of auncient men, the learnings liberall,
None of the things that here to God or man belonging bee,
Are voyde of number dealt withall. Th'almightie Maiestee
Framde eche thing with his perfite poyse, and numbred euery thing,
The art of numbring pleasant is, and profite great doth bring.
In this alone from brutishe beastes, we men doe differ here,
So would th'almightie king, when first he made vs rule to bere,
And Lordes of all things that he framde, appoynted vs to bee,
That perfitely we might pervse eche thing in his degree,
That in the skies or earth he made, eche thing he did deuide,
Both generally, particular, and minutes small beside:
That waying so his wondrous workes, and vsing well the same,
We should extoll his worthinesse, and prayse his holy name.
The skill of heauenly motions eke, doth to the same encline,
Than which amongst vs men there is, no knowledge more diuine,
Nor more that brings vs to the loue, of God himselfe aboue,
Nor farther liftes vs from the earth, and to the skies doth moue.
Who woonders not to see the Sunne and Moone continuallie,
To keepe their course, and planets faire, and glistring starres in skie,
And prayseth not the hande of God, that them did thus create,
And doth not count himselfe to be in passing happie state?
Who shall inioy that blessed house, whose walles so outward shine,
With Princely beautie garnished, and figures framed fine?
For needes he must suppose, that greater things remaine within,
Nor is he here deceyude, for neyther eye hath euer seene,
Nor eare hath heard, nor any heart of mortall man might deeme,
The ioyes that God prepared hath, for such as him esteeme.
Wherefore a pleasant studie sure, and aptest for our minde,
Is this that doth the skies beholde, and starres of euery kinde.
Our countnance seemes to prooue the same, that lifted vp a hie,
Is framde as it appoynted were for to beholde the skie.
Beside it standeth man in steede for many vses here,
For whose behoofe the Lorde hath made, eche thing that doth appere.
By face of heauen, and moouing of the Moone and Phœbus crowne,
And by the three folde rising of the starres and going downe.
The Lorde deuided tymes, and did appoynt the day and night,
The chaunge of yeares and monthes and houres, both equall & vnright.
And set them signes of winter blacke, and of the chearfull spring,
Of burning Sommer, and the time that rypest fruites doth bring,
Of weather faire and fowle or stormes and tempestes that arise,
And tokens for the Mariner that on the water lyes,
And for the husbandman that in the ground his seede doth sow:
Hereto the Northren Pole doth serue, the beare and beareward slow,
The monstrous Waine of Charles, the Goate and little Riddes withal,
And Hyades that tempest showes, when as they rise or fall:
Orion eke that winter brings, with sworde and dreadfull face,
And vnderneath his feete the Hare, whom Syrian Curre doth chase,
And many other goodly starres, and pictures in the skie,
Besides the twelue familiar signes that in the Zodiake lie.
These ought our husband man to knowe, and throughly to pervse,
Bicause of holy scripture, and that oft they come in vse.
And least he should not vnderstand, the things that euen those
That rude and common people be, are able to disclose.
Than which amongst vs men there is, no knowledge more diuine,
Nor more that brings vs to the loue, of God himselfe aboue,
Nor farther liftes vs from the earth, and to the skies doth moue.
Who woonders not to see the Sunne and Moone continuallie,
To keepe their course, and planets faire, and glistring starres in skie,
And prayseth not the hande of God, that them did thus create,
And doth not count himselfe to be in passing happie state?
[69]
With Princely beautie garnished, and figures framed fine?
For needes he must suppose, that greater things remaine within,
Nor is he here deceyude, for neyther eye hath euer seene,
Nor eare hath heard, nor any heart of mortall man might deeme,
The ioyes that God prepared hath, for such as him esteeme.
Wherefore a pleasant studie sure, and aptest for our minde,
Is this that doth the skies beholde, and starres of euery kinde.
Our countnance seemes to prooue the same, that lifted vp a hie,
Is framde as it appoynted were for to beholde the skie.
Beside it standeth man in steede for many vses here,
For whose behoofe the Lorde hath made, eche thing that doth appere.
By face of heauen, and moouing of the Moone and Phœbus crowne,
And by the three folde rising of the starres and going downe.
The Lorde deuided tymes, and did appoynt the day and night,
The chaunge of yeares and monthes and houres, both equall & vnright.
And set them signes of winter blacke, and of the chearfull spring,
Of burning Sommer, and the time that rypest fruites doth bring,
Of weather faire and fowle or stormes and tempestes that arise,
And tokens for the Mariner that on the water lyes,
And for the husbandman that in the ground his seede doth sow:
Hereto the Northren Pole doth serue, the beare and beareward slow,
The monstrous Waine of Charles, the Goate and little Riddes withal,
And Hyades that tempest showes, when as they rise or fall:
Orion eke that winter brings, with sworde and dreadfull face,
And vnderneath his feete the Hare, whom Syrian Curre doth chase,
And many other goodly starres, and pictures in the skie,
Besides the twelue familiar signes that in the Zodiake lie.
These ought our husband man to knowe, and throughly to pervse,
Bicause of holy scripture, and that oft they come in vse.
And least he should not vnderstand, the things that euen those
That rude and common people be, are able to disclose.
I suffer not the Chaldeyes here, ne yet the Arabians vayne,
Who thinke that euery thing is wrought, by force of starrie raigne,
And fearefull in their matters, wey what signe doth vpward spring,
Deuiding all the heauens great (a straunge and monstrous thing)
To houses twelue, and boldly than their figure vp they rere,
Assigning to the Lorde of birth, eche mans conditions here.
Than Planets plase, and marking how their fond asspects do runne,
The bussardes blinde doe streight wayes iudge what good or yll to come?
How short or long his life shall be, that than the mother beares,
What welth he shall obtaine, and how, and in what space of yeares,
What brethren, and what sisters, or what parents he shall haue,
What maisters, or what sicknesses, and when he goes to graue.
They likewise of his mariage iudge, what wife he shall obtaine,
And in what sort she shall be got, with pleasure, or with paine.
Then of his honestie they deeme, and his dishonest life,
What friendship he shall alwayes finde, what hatred, or what strife.
Besides, of signes they monstrous things and wonders doe declare,
Appoynting of the lineaments of man to eche his share,
Without the which they may not toucht, or euer mooued bee,
Whereon both death dependes they say, and life in their degree.
Then to the seauen wandring starres, they houses doe assigne
Perhaps for feare of banishment, when here or there they clime.
And which of them are hote or colde, or doe with moystnesse flow,
Which drie, or which are swift in course, or which in moouing slow,
Which blacke, or white, or yellow are, which greene or red doe shine,
Which of them of the womens sexe, or which are masculine.
These things they boldly do affirme, and with as sober grace,
As if they late from heauen came, and saw it face to face.
What should I tell how they prescribe an houre for euery thing?
And with their superstitions, feare on feeble heartes do bring?
They teach how that it is not good, this day or that to sow,
Nor for to trim the barraine fieldes, nor cut the woods that grow,
Nor for to plant or cut the vines, nor houses for to make,
Nor wane the little sucking childe, nor men to friendship take,
Nor for to cut or shaue the beard, nor for to dresse the handes,
Nor for to passe from place to place, nor visite other lande.
Nor for to beate the bushe for birde, nor baite the fishers hooke,
Nor for to chase the fearefull Hart, nor teach the childe his booke,
Nor for to take a wife, nor once at Cardes or Dice to play,
Nor for to keepe thy worde, nor thought, nor borowed things to pay,
Nor to dispute of any thing, nor take the lawe in hande,
Nor for to cut the bleeding vaine, nor seeke the healing hande,
To breake no yong vntamed horse, nor Geldings for to make,
To biue no iewels, nor no lande, nor any bargaine take:
To sende no postes nor messengers, to beare thy friend thy minde,
To cut no heare, nor poll the heade, nor send thy corne to grinde,
Not for to digge or deale with mines, nor houses faire to make,
Nor lately built to dwell therein, nor seruaunts for to take,
Nor battaile to begin, nor meete in fielde the furious fo,
Nor on the surging seas in Barke for any thing to go.
Who can remember all their toyes, a hell they here doe frame,
While nothing can be done, except the skies permit the same?
Such Prophetes blinde I doe not like, that in their foolishe traunce,
Perswade the common people fonde, that this or that shall chaunce:
In giuing all things to the starres, that none aliue can knowe,
Nor any reason nor experience perfitely can showe.
I giue them leaue that worldly are, such folly for to vse,
Wherewith themselues and other men, they fondly may abuse.
But for the other perfite is, and causes certaine bee,
That from the olde experience of the worlde deriude we see.
Who thinke that euery thing is wrought, by force of starrie raigne,
And fearefull in their matters, wey what signe doth vpward spring,
Deuiding all the heauens great (a straunge and monstrous thing)
70
Assigning to the Lorde of birth, eche mans conditions here.
Than Planets plase, and marking how their fond asspects do runne,
The bussardes blinde doe streight wayes iudge what good or yll to come?
How short or long his life shall be, that than the mother beares,
What welth he shall obtaine, and how, and in what space of yeares,
What brethren, and what sisters, or what parents he shall haue,
What maisters, or what sicknesses, and when he goes to graue.
They likewise of his mariage iudge, what wife he shall obtaine,
And in what sort she shall be got, with pleasure, or with paine.
Then of his honestie they deeme, and his dishonest life,
What friendship he shall alwayes finde, what hatred, or what strife.
Besides, of signes they monstrous things and wonders doe declare,
Appoynting of the lineaments of man to eche his share,
Without the which they may not toucht, or euer mooued bee,
Whereon both death dependes they say, and life in their degree.
Then to the seauen wandring starres, they houses doe assigne
Perhaps for feare of banishment, when here or there they clime.
And which of them are hote or colde, or doe with moystnesse flow,
Which drie, or which are swift in course, or which in moouing slow,
Which blacke, or white, or yellow are, which greene or red doe shine,
Which of them of the womens sexe, or which are masculine.
These things they boldly do affirme, and with as sober grace,
As if they late from heauen came, and saw it face to face.
What should I tell how they prescribe an houre for euery thing?
And with their superstitions, feare on feeble heartes do bring?
They teach how that it is not good, this day or that to sow,
Nor for to trim the barraine fieldes, nor cut the woods that grow,
Nor for to plant or cut the vines, nor houses for to make,
Nor wane the little sucking childe, nor men to friendship take,
Nor for to cut or shaue the beard, nor for to dresse the handes,
Nor for to passe from place to place, nor visite other lande.
Nor for to beate the bushe for birde, nor baite the fishers hooke,
Nor for to chase the fearefull Hart, nor teach the childe his booke,
Nor for to take a wife, nor once at Cardes or Dice to play,
Nor for to keepe thy worde, nor thought, nor borowed things to pay,
[70]
Nor for to cut the bleeding vaine, nor seeke the healing hande,
To breake no yong vntamed horse, nor Geldings for to make,
To biue no iewels, nor no lande, nor any bargaine take:
To sende no postes nor messengers, to beare thy friend thy minde,
To cut no heare, nor poll the heade, nor send thy corne to grinde,
Not for to digge or deale with mines, nor houses faire to make,
Nor lately built to dwell therein, nor seruaunts for to take,
Nor battaile to begin, nor meete in fielde the furious fo,
Nor on the surging seas in Barke for any thing to go.
Who can remember all their toyes, a hell they here doe frame,
While nothing can be done, except the skies permit the same?
Such Prophetes blinde I doe not like, that in their foolishe traunce,
Perswade the common people fonde, that this or that shall chaunce:
In giuing all things to the starres, that none aliue can knowe,
Nor any reason nor experience perfitely can showe.
I giue them leaue that worldly are, such folly for to vse,
Wherewith themselues and other men, they fondly may abuse.
But for the other perfite is, and causes certaine bee,
That from the olde experience of the worlde deriude we see.
Next to this knowledge is the same, that first from prick doth spring,
And teacheth all the trade to meate and measure euery thing,
As Medowes, Pastures, Mountaynes great, and valleys large & wide,
And loftie stately towers, and starres that in the skies doe glide.
A worthie pleasant arte is this, for many matters meete,
Which needes our husbandman must ioine with other learnings sweete.
And teacheth all the trade to meate and measure euery thing,
As Medowes, Pastures, Mountaynes great, and valleys large & wide,
And loftie stately towers, and starres that in the skies doe glide.
A worthie pleasant arte is this, for many matters meete,
Which needes our husbandman must ioine with other learnings sweete.
The dearest daughter of the Muses now who dare despise,
Or melodie that in the voyce, or in the finger lies?
The cares that doe consume the heart, doth Musicke driue away,
And comforteth the sad, and rayseth mindes that troubled lay,
Prouoketh teares, and mooueth vnto pittie now and than,
Which waies thou wilt doth Musicke draw the thought & mind of man.
It ceaseth anger great and fierce, and furie doth withstande,
And mooues againe the martiall heart, to take the sworde in hande,
By Musicke fowle and hurtfull spirites, are often ouerthrowne,
And good are brought, a thing full well to auncient Prophets knowne.
The force doth Musicke eft augment, and easie make the paine,
That workemen, shipmen, and the plowman doe full oft sustaine.
The childe by meanes of Musicke doth, in Cradell quiet lie,
And doth forget the mothers breast, and hunger by and bie,
The fierce Laconians when they were in battell bent to meete,
Terpander set them all agreed, by song and Musicke sweete.
Not men alone are mooude with sounde of sweete and pleasant note,
But also birdes and brutish beastes, and fishe in floodes that flote.
The loftie prauncing horse we see, in Musicke doth reioyce,
The vnweeldie Beare doth also leape to heare his maysters voyce.
Arion borne vpon the backe of Dolphyn swimming sure,
Doth shewe what force in Musicke is, and what it can procure.
Both mountaynes, woods, & hawtie rocks, as auncient men do wright,
Did follow Orphæus for his song, and wonderfull delight.
Amphion eke the sonne of Ioue, as stories doe declare,
With Harpe did cut the ragged stones, and brought them into square,
Wherewith he built the Thebane walles, and stately tower strong,
That wayde not all the Grecians force, nor enmyes sieges long.
Th'almightie father hath assignde, to euery minde a loue
Of Musicke sweete, and would the earth should show the workes aboue.
And counterfet them in hir kinde, as neare as here might bee,
That hyest and the chiefest things, with basest might agree.
For doubtlesse all the heauenly Spheares, that make so sweet a noyse,
With whirling vp and downe of starres, or else of angels voyce,
That doe in thousands serue the Lorde, doth to the earth let fall,
This sweete consent that mooues the minde, delightes and pleaseth all.
And as this same in sweetenesse farre eche other arte exceedes:
So ought it to be well applyde with good and godly deedes:
Not vnto wanton pleasure here, nor foolish vaine delight,
As men in madnesse oft doe vse, opprest with wicked spright.
With good example hath the sonne of Iesse taught vs so,
And Moyses with his shining face, and many Prophets mo.
As Paule inspirde with holy spirite, doth teach and will the same.
The Gentils all their prayers eke, in verse did chiefly frame,
And chaunted vp their Hymnes vnto their Gods in solemne plight,
Perswaded that their fayned Saintes in Musicke tooke delight.
Our husbandman therefore must not this worthie arte disdaine,
But with the chiefest seeke the top of Musicke to attaine.
Whereby he may extoll the Lord, and mooue the sluggish minde,
And what if that in making of a verse he pleasure finde?
And prooue a christian Poet good? the Prophets olde sometime
Were woont to write there workes in verse, and pleasantly to rime.
In verse Apollo aunswere gaue, Religion and good lawes,
Unto the common sort were taught, in verse and Poets sawes.
By Manto, Linus, Amphiaraus, Sibills, and Orphey eke,
The maiestie was alwayes great, in stately verse to speake.
With this the vertuous Poets learnd, did please and well entreate,
Both simple common people rude, and worthie princes greate.
Or melodie that in the voyce, or in the finger lies?
The cares that doe consume the heart, doth Musicke driue away,
And comforteth the sad, and rayseth mindes that troubled lay,
Prouoketh teares, and mooueth vnto pittie now and than,
Which waies thou wilt doth Musicke draw the thought & mind of man.
It ceaseth anger great and fierce, and furie doth withstande,
And mooues againe the martiall heart, to take the sworde in hande,
By Musicke fowle and hurtfull spirites, are often ouerthrowne,
And good are brought, a thing full well to auncient Prophets knowne.
71
That workemen, shipmen, and the plowman doe full oft sustaine.
The childe by meanes of Musicke doth, in Cradell quiet lie,
And doth forget the mothers breast, and hunger by and bie,
The fierce Laconians when they were in battell bent to meete,
Terpander set them all agreed, by song and Musicke sweete.
Not men alone are mooude with sounde of sweete and pleasant note,
But also birdes and brutish beastes, and fishe in floodes that flote.
The loftie prauncing horse we see, in Musicke doth reioyce,
The vnweeldie Beare doth also leape to heare his maysters voyce.
Arion borne vpon the backe of Dolphyn swimming sure,
Doth shewe what force in Musicke is, and what it can procure.
Both mountaynes, woods, & hawtie rocks, as auncient men do wright,
Did follow Orphæus for his song, and wonderfull delight.
Amphion eke the sonne of Ioue, as stories doe declare,
With Harpe did cut the ragged stones, and brought them into square,
Wherewith he built the Thebane walles, and stately tower strong,
That wayde not all the Grecians force, nor enmyes sieges long.
Th'almightie father hath assignde, to euery minde a loue
Of Musicke sweete, and would the earth should show the workes aboue.
And counterfet them in hir kinde, as neare as here might bee,
That hyest and the chiefest things, with basest might agree.
For doubtlesse all the heauenly Spheares, that make so sweet a noyse,
With whirling vp and downe of starres, or else of angels voyce,
That doe in thousands serue the Lorde, doth to the earth let fall,
This sweete consent that mooues the minde, delightes and pleaseth all.
And as this same in sweetenesse farre eche other arte exceedes:
So ought it to be well applyde with good and godly deedes:
Not vnto wanton pleasure here, nor foolish vaine delight,
As men in madnesse oft doe vse, opprest with wicked spright.
With good example hath the sonne of Iesse taught vs so,
And Moyses with his shining face, and many Prophets mo.
As Paule inspirde with holy spirite, doth teach and will the same.
The Gentils all their prayers eke, in verse did chiefly frame,
And chaunted vp their Hymnes vnto their Gods in solemne plight,
Perswaded that their fayned Saintes in Musicke tooke delight.
[71]
But with the chiefest seeke the top of Musicke to attaine.
Whereby he may extoll the Lord, and mooue the sluggish minde,
And what if that in making of a verse he pleasure finde?
And prooue a christian Poet good? the Prophets olde sometime
Were woont to write there workes in verse, and pleasantly to rime.
In verse Apollo aunswere gaue, Religion and good lawes,
Unto the common sort were taught, in verse and Poets sawes.
By Manto, Linus, Amphiaraus, Sibills, and Orphey eke,
The maiestie was alwayes great, in stately verse to speake.
With this the vertuous Poets learnd, did please and well entreate,
Both simple common people rude, and worthie princes greate.
Nowe tyme it is the nature straunge, and cause of things to know,
And whatsoeuer learned men, in Phisicks earst did show.
Although they are but laughing stockes, and dotars commonly,
And that you sooner may the North and South togither tye,
And ioyne vnto the brittish shore, the Persian dignitie,
Then for to cause their diuers mindes, in one for to agree.
Nor maruaile when without the light, that from the scriptures springs,
They rashly iudge of hed and ende, and order right of things.
As if a blinde man in the way would make himselfe a guide,
Or iudge of colours which were fairst, or which were better dide.
It shall not hurt thee much these things (though fond) in hand to take,
And lightly to pervse and see, for lyes doe often make
The truth to be esteemed more, and of more force to showe.
Both sweete it is, and I allow the cause of things to knowe.
But such as certaine are, and such as no man can denie,
Of knowledge certaine endes there are, and boundes appoynted lie.
The worde of God must beare the bell, and sway in euery thing,
And next to that such reasons good, as wise men here doe bring,
Must be esteemed as a troth.
Be circumspect in euery thing, if ought thou seekst to finde
Concerning heauen, world, and forme, of substance, or of kinde,
Or touching fortune, place, or hap, the elaments and time,
Of motion, thunder, winde and snow, raine, haile, or frostie rime.
Whereof it comes that pleasant dewes in Sommer wettes the spring,
Or what procures the lightning fierce, that pearceth euery thing.
What makes the fire oftentymes, in hellish clowdes to glow,
Or why the sunne in showre appearing, the rainbow streight doth show.
Why Moone with fogge is compast oft, or how the blasing starre
Appeares, that oft is signe to men, of famine, death, or warre:
Wherefore the earth doth tremble so, and Cities ouerturne,
And why that Phœbus oftentimes with threefolde face doth burne
Besides let him consider well, if that a good man may
Beleue the distance of the skies to be as they doe say.
If that the Moone so farre exceede the earth in quantitee,
Or if the starres so farre aboue the earth in bignesse bee,
Or if the Lord created more than two of greatest light,
Or any saue the Sunne that past the Moone in force and might.
Moreouer, land and seas pervse, and marke their natures plaine,
And all that in the earth or ayre, or in the seas remaine.
And whatsoeuer learned men, in Phisicks earst did show.
Although they are but laughing stockes, and dotars commonly,
And that you sooner may the North and South togither tye,
And ioyne vnto the brittish shore, the Persian dignitie,
Then for to cause their diuers mindes, in one for to agree.
Nor maruaile when without the light, that from the scriptures springs,
They rashly iudge of hed and ende, and order right of things.
As if a blinde man in the way would make himselfe a guide,
Or iudge of colours which were fairst, or which were better dide.
It shall not hurt thee much these things (though fond) in hand to take,
And lightly to pervse and see, for lyes doe often make
The truth to be esteemed more, and of more force to showe.
Both sweete it is, and I allow the cause of things to knowe.
But such as certaine are, and such as no man can denie,
Of knowledge certaine endes there are, and boundes appoynted lie.
The worde of God must beare the bell, and sway in euery thing,
And next to that such reasons good, as wise men here doe bring,
Must be esteemed as a troth.
Be circumspect in euery thing, if ought thou seekst to finde
Concerning heauen, world, and forme, of substance, or of kinde,
Or touching fortune, place, or hap, the elaments and time,
Of motion, thunder, winde and snow, raine, haile, or frostie rime.
72
Or what procures the lightning fierce, that pearceth euery thing.
What makes the fire oftentymes, in hellish clowdes to glow,
Or why the sunne in showre appearing, the rainbow streight doth show.
Why Moone with fogge is compast oft, or how the blasing starre
Appeares, that oft is signe to men, of famine, death, or warre:
Wherefore the earth doth tremble so, and Cities ouerturne,
And why that Phœbus oftentimes with threefolde face doth burne
Besides let him consider well, if that a good man may
Beleue the distance of the skies to be as they doe say.
If that the Moone so farre exceede the earth in quantitee,
Or if the starres so farre aboue the earth in bignesse bee,
Or if the Lord created more than two of greatest light,
Or any saue the Sunne that past the Moone in force and might.
Moreouer, land and seas pervse, and marke their natures plaine,
And all that in the earth or ayre, or in the seas remaine.
But for these straunge and forraine things, men ought not so to care,
As for our nearer neighbors much, that in vs dwelling are.
Unto our proper houses therefore, let vs come and see,
What wondrous things by natures handes in vs created bee,
How much we doe excell and passe, eche other worldly kinde,
Whose rulers and correctors here, the Lorde hath vs assignde.
What giftes of minde we doe enioy, and what of bodie here,
What vertuously of vs is wrought, and what doth lewde appere.
These things are first to be perusde, that we may perfitely,
Both knowe our selues, and eke the things that are to vs so nie.
Fond is it to be wise abrode, and onely for to see
The outwarde things, while as at home like bussards blind we bee.
As for our nearer neighbors much, that in vs dwelling are.
Unto our proper houses therefore, let vs come and see,
What wondrous things by natures handes in vs created bee,
How much we doe excell and passe, eche other worldly kinde,
Whose rulers and correctors here, the Lorde hath vs assignde.
What giftes of minde we doe enioy, and what of bodie here,
What vertuously of vs is wrought, and what doth lewde appere.
These things are first to be perusde, that we may perfitely,
Both knowe our selues, and eke the things that are to vs so nie.
Fond is it to be wise abrode, and onely for to see
The outwarde things, while as at home like bussards blind we bee.
But here me thinkes some lasie lowte should say to me. O how
Suppose you sir that meete it is your plowman first to know
These things, before he till his ground, and holy plow doe holde:
What say you to the Apostles than, and to the Prophets olde,
Where euer finde you that these men were learned in this sort:
Or who would credite him that any such thing would report.
Besides but few such plowmen could be got as you desire,
Whereas the haruest of the Lorde, doth numbers great require.
The time hath ben when men of god, without their bookes were taught,
And diuers sodainely by him, to state of Prophets brought.
So fishers and vnskilfull men, by force of holy spright,
He made the teachers of the world, and showes of perfite light.
Besides a number more of such, his mightie hand did frame,
Not for to breake dame Natures lawes, and alter quite the same,
But for to shewe his mightie force, and great prerogatiue,
And that he was not tyed to sleaue of any thing aliue.
We may not therefore giue our selues, to gape for wonders still,
But as the guise of men requires, we must conforme our will,
Till God do worke in other sorte, and other meanes doth giue.
In sterne and barren wildernesse the Iewes sometime did liue,
And neyther plowde, nor sowde, nor reapte, in fortie winters space:
And were not he starke madde that now would looke for such a grace,
And like an ydle lubber sit, and take no kinde of paine
With hande nor foote, for him or his a liuing for to gaine?
Or gape to haue the Rauens come, or widdow at his neede.
Who at the bidding of the Lorde, Helias once did feede.
The Riuer great of Iordan once, and eke the fearefull seas,
Through might of God, and all on foote, the Hebrues past with ease.
Now neede we when we passe these floods, both barke, and mast & saile,
And Tiphys eke to holde the helme, least on the seas we quaile,
Thus are we bound to learne whatsoeuer, on earth we knowe or see,
That may vnto the honour great of God and glorie bee.
Ne must they looke for ydlenesse, that will be husbandmen,
Least that the Lorde be tempted so, and iustly plague vs then,
For our contempt and slouthfulnesse, example here let bee,
The franticke Anabaptistes that in any place we see:
Who hating bookes and learned artes, doe count it vertue graue,
No skill in any language, saue their Countrie tongue to haue:
And leaping lately from the shop of Shoomakers, or such,
Are not ashamde the Preachers place with greasie handes to tuch,
Still boasting of the holy ghost, and so with passing pride,
They hedlong throwe themselues to hell, and numbers great beside,
By teaching false and foolish things, the Prophets eke deuine,
Good Moyses first in Pharaos house, applyde the Muses nine,
Before he taught the worde of God, or traynde the Iewish hartes,
And Daniel did refuse the Chaldeans meate, but not their artes.
Paule of a learned Doctor in Ierusalem was tought,
And not alonely in the scriptures to excell was thought,
But in the Grecian eloquence, and sciences prophane,
Wherein to be exactly learnde, he alwayes had the name.
With which he better armed, put the Gentiles soone to flight,
And with these weapons of their owne, he ouerthrew them quight.
At Athens with Aratus wordes, he gaue them all the foyle,
And brought agaynst the Creteans witnesse of their natiue soyle.
A man that hedlong threw himselfe in Etnaes raging flame,
Amongst the people for to gaine an euerlasting fame.
What good and honest is among these artes, they well may chuse,
And make them for to serue their turne, that vertuously them vse.
The Egyptians once were robbed of goodes, and spoyled vtterly,
To increase the treasure of the Lorde, and his to bewtifie.
The Gentiles fayth and life we onely are forbidden here,
And not their worthie sciences and springes of learning clere,
So that we put them to good vse, and profite any wayes,
Applying them with all our force vnto th'almighties prayse.
Our sauiour Christ commended eke, the Scribe that well was tought,
Resembling him vnto the rich, who from his treasure brought,
Things olde and newe aboundantly. Yea glory doth remaine
At home for learned men that do in godlinesse take paine.
As that most learned Prophet song, and plainely did declare,
He whom the cruell Lions in their dreadfull denne did spare,
Rude rusticall vnskilfulnesse deserues no prayse at all,
But lothsome is in him to whom the sacred plow shall fall.
Who doth allow the laysie lobbe? where is not slouth vnmeete?
The hony gathering Bees are praysde, bicause in springtime sweete,
With dayly labour great they make the wholsome honie good.
The little Ant doth frame his house with trauaile in the wood,
And on his backe a greater burthen than himselfe doth lay,
And thrusteth vp his corne in caue agaynst the winter day.
Why should not likewise in our husbandmen such care appere,
In those whom God appoynted hath the worldes correctors here?
No loytring leysure here was left, but businesse to be done,
Which faythfull seruaunts should applie vntill their maister come.
That fewe such seruaunts at this time in any countrie bee,
Who doth not know? and eke the cause I thinke eche man doth see.
Some seeke their owne commoditie, and belly well to fill,
And some in fieldes of ydlenesse, doe loue to lynger still.
But seldome any man t'aduaunce the prayse of Christ desires,
Nor weyes what labours great and toyle, the heart of man requires.
Therefore the fieldes doe barraine lie, and brambles thicke doth bring,
And Cockle fowle abundantly, in euery place doth spring.
The tender sheepe dispersed are, and faint and sicke they bee,
And feede vpon the poysoned plantes that in the Marsh they see.
Yet none vouchsafes for to redresse this miserable case,
Thou wouldest suppose that all had sworne togither now in place.
The deuill and the raging worlde, and princes of estate,
And all the shauen plowmen here, that euermore doe prate,
And talke of Christ and boast themselues to be his seruaunts true,
That blinded mindes of men might not with wholsome tillage due,
Be brought vnto a blessed state, nor perfite seedes be sowne,
And gratefull haruest vnto God, with great aduauntage mowne.
What wages to these seruaunts lewde and deulish kingdome here
Shall God assigne, when on his iudgement seate he shall appere?
With pacience let them looke for that, and beare their owne contempt,
We mindefull of our matter here, will better things attempt.
Suppose you sir that meete it is your plowman first to know
These things, before he till his ground, and holy plow doe holde:
What say you to the Apostles than, and to the Prophets olde,
Where euer finde you that these men were learned in this sort:
Or who would credite him that any such thing would report.
Besides but few such plowmen could be got as you desire,
Whereas the haruest of the Lorde, doth numbers great require.
[72]
And diuers sodainely by him, to state of Prophets brought.
So fishers and vnskilfull men, by force of holy spright,
He made the teachers of the world, and showes of perfite light.
Besides a number more of such, his mightie hand did frame,
Not for to breake dame Natures lawes, and alter quite the same,
But for to shewe his mightie force, and great prerogatiue,
And that he was not tyed to sleaue of any thing aliue.
We may not therefore giue our selues, to gape for wonders still,
But as the guise of men requires, we must conforme our will,
Till God do worke in other sorte, and other meanes doth giue.
In sterne and barren wildernesse the Iewes sometime did liue,
And neyther plowde, nor sowde, nor reapte, in fortie winters space:
And were not he starke madde that now would looke for such a grace,
And like an ydle lubber sit, and take no kinde of paine
With hande nor foote, for him or his a liuing for to gaine?
Or gape to haue the Rauens come, or widdow at his neede.
Who at the bidding of the Lorde, Helias once did feede.
The Riuer great of Iordan once, and eke the fearefull seas,
Through might of God, and all on foote, the Hebrues past with ease.
Now neede we when we passe these floods, both barke, and mast & saile,
And Tiphys eke to holde the helme, least on the seas we quaile,
Thus are we bound to learne whatsoeuer, on earth we knowe or see,
That may vnto the honour great of God and glorie bee.
Ne must they looke for ydlenesse, that will be husbandmen,
Least that the Lorde be tempted so, and iustly plague vs then,
For our contempt and slouthfulnesse, example here let bee,
The franticke Anabaptistes that in any place we see:
Who hating bookes and learned artes, doe count it vertue graue,
No skill in any language, saue their Countrie tongue to haue:
And leaping lately from the shop of Shoomakers, or such,
Are not ashamde the Preachers place with greasie handes to tuch,
Still boasting of the holy ghost, and so with passing pride,
They hedlong throwe themselues to hell, and numbers great beside,
By teaching false and foolish things, the Prophets eke deuine,
Good Moyses first in Pharaos house, applyde the Muses nine,
73
And Daniel did refuse the Chaldeans meate, but not their artes.
Paule of a learned Doctor in Ierusalem was tought,
And not alonely in the scriptures to excell was thought,
But in the Grecian eloquence, and sciences prophane,
Wherein to be exactly learnde, he alwayes had the name.
With which he better armed, put the Gentiles soone to flight,
And with these weapons of their owne, he ouerthrew them quight.
At Athens with Aratus wordes, he gaue them all the foyle,
And brought agaynst the Creteans witnesse of their natiue soyle.
A man that hedlong threw himselfe in Etnaes raging flame,
Amongst the people for to gaine an euerlasting fame.
What good and honest is among these artes, they well may chuse,
And make them for to serue their turne, that vertuously them vse.
The Egyptians once were robbed of goodes, and spoyled vtterly,
To increase the treasure of the Lorde, and his to bewtifie.
The Gentiles fayth and life we onely are forbidden here,
And not their worthie sciences and springes of learning clere,
So that we put them to good vse, and profite any wayes,
Applying them with all our force vnto th'almighties prayse.
Our sauiour Christ commended eke, the Scribe that well was tought,
Resembling him vnto the rich, who from his treasure brought,
Things olde and newe aboundantly. Yea glory doth remaine
At home for learned men that do in godlinesse take paine.
As that most learned Prophet song, and plainely did declare,
He whom the cruell Lions in their dreadfull denne did spare,
Rude rusticall vnskilfulnesse deserues no prayse at all,
But lothsome is in him to whom the sacred plow shall fall.
Who doth allow the laysie lobbe? where is not slouth vnmeete?
The hony gathering Bees are praysde, bicause in springtime sweete,
With dayly labour great they make the wholsome honie good.
The little Ant doth frame his house with trauaile in the wood,
And on his backe a greater burthen than himselfe doth lay,
And thrusteth vp his corne in caue agaynst the winter day.
Why should not likewise in our husbandmen such care appere,
In those whom God appoynted hath the worldes correctors here?
[73]
Which faythfull seruaunts should applie vntill their maister come.
That fewe such seruaunts at this time in any countrie bee,
Who doth not know? and eke the cause I thinke eche man doth see.
Some seeke their owne commoditie, and belly well to fill,
And some in fieldes of ydlenesse, doe loue to lynger still.
But seldome any man t'aduaunce the prayse of Christ desires,
Nor weyes what labours great and toyle, the heart of man requires.
Therefore the fieldes doe barraine lie, and brambles thicke doth bring,
And Cockle fowle abundantly, in euery place doth spring.
The tender sheepe dispersed are, and faint and sicke they bee,
And feede vpon the poysoned plantes that in the Marsh they see.
Yet none vouchsafes for to redresse this miserable case,
Thou wouldest suppose that all had sworne togither now in place.
The deuill and the raging worlde, and princes of estate,
And all the shauen plowmen here, that euermore doe prate,
And talke of Christ and boast themselues to be his seruaunts true,
That blinded mindes of men might not with wholsome tillage due,
Be brought vnto a blessed state, nor perfite seedes be sowne,
And gratefull haruest vnto God, with great aduauntage mowne.
What wages to these seruaunts lewde and deulish kingdome here
Shall God assigne, when on his iudgement seate he shall appere?
With pacience let them looke for that, and beare their owne contempt,
We mindefull of our matter here, will better things attempt.
Now must our husband frame himselfe a vertuous man to bee.
That both his teaching and his life, may iustly here agree,
Least teaching others, he himselfe doth misse the perfite way,
And bring the worde to bide reproche, and building to decay.
Aboue all things he must beware of pride and loftie minde,
The perfite following here of Christ, who liued in lowest kinde,
(Who must be their assured marke) doth not allow the same
In christen men, and eke aboue the rest, it is a shame
For any seruant to presume aboue his maisters gree,
And for to chalenge princely state, and worldly soueraintee.
Where Christ the Lord with bloudie sweate, & face with spittle stainde,
And blowes, and mockes and boare his crosse, and cruell death sustainde.
Who hateth not Nestorius voyce, and wordes deseruing blame?
Or pride of Paule, the Bishop once of Antioche; the same
That cleare Orontes passeth by? who doth not here repine,
To see the christian husbandman, the steps of Maximine
The prowde to treade, and both his handes, and stinking wretched feete
To let be kist, and borne on backs of men with pompe vnmeete,
Beset about with precious stones, all clad in rich aray,
Like Persean prince or Emprour great that beares in Inde the sway.
Let kings pursue such pompe and pride, and our poore husbandman,
Content himselfe with meane estate, not looking hier than
Confessing not alone himselfe a seruaunt here in name,
But both in countnance, weede, and voyce, and life, declare the same.
Directing all the order of his life by Christ alone,
And making him the marke of sauing health, and others none,
There is no cause why man should swell with pride, or such disdaine,
For noble bloud, or welthie state, or shape of bodie vaine,
Or troupe of men, or learned show, or titles gotten graue,
Or any other kinde of thing. (For what is all we haue?)
Since that we were created here, with all that in vs lyes,
Eche one to be an others helpe, which if we doe dispise,
And looke aloft with hautie minde, and thinke to beare a sway,
The greatest giftes that here we haue will turne to our decay.
Beside the seruant of the Lorde must not inflamed bee,
With wrath, or yre, nor frowning looke, as beastes that oft we see,
With hurtfull hornes do runne vpon such as do come in sight,
And threaten with their countnance fierce, continually to fight.
Let gentle mindes be shrowded still, with milde and comely cheere,
And in the seruant of the Lorde, Christes Image plaine appeere:
Least that before he gin to speake or clime the Pulpet hie,
The people streight suspecting harme, for feare away doe flie.
And let him learne both wordes and deedes to suffer paciently,
Contemning diuers things, and most esteeming not a flie.
A noble heart in bodie beare, not mooude with easie winde
And take good heede he neuer speake no wordes of wrathfull kinde.
Forbearing grinding with his teeth, and frowning with his face,
And most of all from skirmishing with hande or fist in place.
Such anger doth not well agree, that he shall eft dispise,
And thinke vnmeete for common people rude to exercise.
Who can abide Amphitrions sonne, on O[illeg.]ta for to see,
Or viewe the face of Aiax fierce, while in his furie hee
Destroyes the poore vnguiltie beastes Vlysses for to kill?
Who will not shunne the companie and friendship all to yll
Of mad Eurilochus, while as he doth pursue in chase
His man, with spit and meate in hande vnto the Market place?
Who can delight in Commodus, that in his raging yre,
For trifles cast the maister of his bathes into the fyre?
Or who doth not Comedes his wicked act detest,
That Samson like in furious rage, a schoole of boyes opprest?
Let rage and wrath be driuen hence, nor let him euer speake
With bitter wordes to any man, his malice for to wreake,
Nor coole his minde with Stygian streame, nor any man defame,
In euery matter let him learne to keepe his tongue in frame.
And talke of pleasant things and good, not prating much the while,
The chattring tongue is lothsome still, and foolish speach is vile,
And full of lyes is alwayes scornde. To rule the tongue aright
Is acceptable vnto God, and vnto euery Wight.
That both his teaching and his life, may iustly here agree,
Least teaching others, he himselfe doth misse the perfite way,
And bring the worde to bide reproche, and building to decay.
Aboue all things he must beware of pride and loftie minde,
The perfite following here of Christ, who liued in lowest kinde,
(Who must be their assured marke) doth not allow the same
In christen men, and eke aboue the rest, it is a shame
For any seruant to presume aboue his maisters gree,
And for to chalenge princely state, and worldly soueraintee.
Where Christ the Lord with bloudie sweate, & face with spittle stainde,
And blowes, and mockes and boare his crosse, and cruell death sustainde.
74
Or pride of Paule, the Bishop once of Antioche; the same
That cleare Orontes passeth by? who doth not here repine,
To see the christian husbandman, the steps of Maximine
The prowde to treade, and both his handes, and stinking wretched feete
To let be kist, and borne on backs of men with pompe vnmeete,
Beset about with precious stones, all clad in rich aray,
Like Persean prince or Emprour great that beares in Inde the sway.
Let kings pursue such pompe and pride, and our poore husbandman,
Content himselfe with meane estate, not looking hier than
Confessing not alone himselfe a seruaunt here in name,
But both in countnance, weede, and voyce, and life, declare the same.
Directing all the order of his life by Christ alone,
And making him the marke of sauing health, and others none,
There is no cause why man should swell with pride, or such disdaine,
For noble bloud, or welthie state, or shape of bodie vaine,
Or troupe of men, or learned show, or titles gotten graue,
Or any other kinde of thing. (For what is all we haue?)
Since that we were created here, with all that in vs lyes,
Eche one to be an others helpe, which if we doe dispise,
And looke aloft with hautie minde, and thinke to beare a sway,
The greatest giftes that here we haue will turne to our decay.
Beside the seruant of the Lorde must not inflamed bee,
With wrath, or yre, nor frowning looke, as beastes that oft we see,
With hurtfull hornes do runne vpon such as do come in sight,
And threaten with their countnance fierce, continually to fight.
Let gentle mindes be shrowded still, with milde and comely cheere,
And in the seruant of the Lorde, Christes Image plaine appeere:
Least that before he gin to speake or clime the Pulpet hie,
The people streight suspecting harme, for feare away doe flie.
And let him learne both wordes and deedes to suffer paciently,
Contemning diuers things, and most esteeming not a flie.
A noble heart in bodie beare, not mooude with easie winde
And take good heede he neuer speake no wordes of wrathfull kinde.
Forbearing grinding with his teeth, and frowning with his face,
And most of all from skirmishing with hande or fist in place.
[74]
And thinke vnmeete for common people rude to exercise.
Who can abide Amphitrions sonne, on O[illeg.]ta for to see,
Or viewe the face of Aiax fierce, while in his furie hee
Destroyes the poore vnguiltie beastes Vlysses for to kill?
Who will not shunne the companie and friendship all to yll
Of mad Eurilochus, while as he doth pursue in chase
His man, with spit and meate in hande vnto the Market place?
Who can delight in Commodus, that in his raging yre,
For trifles cast the maister of his bathes into the fyre?
Or who doth not Comedes his wicked act detest,
That Samson like in furious rage, a schoole of boyes opprest?
Let rage and wrath be driuen hence, nor let him euer speake
With bitter wordes to any man, his malice for to wreake,
Nor coole his minde with Stygian streame, nor any man defame,
In euery matter let him learne to keepe his tongue in frame.
And talke of pleasant things and good, not prating much the while,
The chattring tongue is lothsome still, and foolish speach is vile,
And full of lyes is alwayes scornde. To rule the tongue aright
Is acceptable vnto God, and vnto euery Wight.
75
The second Booke.
These
things as meetest to be kept of plowmen all we thought,
And more beside (my gracious Lordes) yt they be chiefly taught
To shunne all greedie auarice, and fowle desire of gaine,
A thing that alwayes cōmonly amongst these men doth raigne:
And therefore are they oft reprooude at common peoples handes.
This is the worst they teach men to dispise both goodes and landes
And euery other fading thing, and worldly vaine delight,
And onely for to set their mindes vpon the heauens bright.
For when aboue the rest they seeke, for riches gredilie,
What doe they else but plaine confesse, and truely testifie,
That to no other ende their paynes, in teaching this they take,
Than for to scrape vnto themselues that other men forsake?
As in Vicenza sometime did a carefull Usurer,
(The storie is not very long) it chaunst this man to heare,
That in the towne a learned man of eloquence profounde,
Did preach in euery place abrode where Usurie was founde,
Condemning much the vse thereof, and eke the filthie gaine.
To him he comes and greetes him well, and thankes him for his paine,
And prayse him much for to proceede, in blaming of this vice,
And to disswade the Citizens from filthie auarice.
Declaring eke the greatnesse of the sinne and wretched state,
And how that God aboue all other vices this doth hate:
What torments they shall haue in hell, when as the world doth ende.
And howe they shall be punished that so their money lende.
Thus while with tedious talke he doth molest the aged man,
Rehearsing oftentymes the wordes that he before began:
What mooueth thee, quoth he, for to desire this thing so much,
Since thou thy selfe art one of those that it doth chiefly tuch.
Forsooth quoth he, for nothing else, but when they all were gone
Through your disswasion good, I might receyue this gaine alone.
That now am pestred with the prease, and pinched with my shewes.
None otherwise (their deedes report) these plowmen all doe vse,
Whom well thou mayst perceyue to mocke, and with the world to play,
For earthly things they still doe teach, to leaue and cast away.
And for to set the whole delight vpon the heauens hie:
While as themselues the things aboue esteeming not a flie.
But leauing farre behinde their backes, with all their force and might
Do hunt for earthly riches here, and foolish fonde delight.
And looke what people, Princes, Dukes, and mightie Monarches bigge
Haue throwne away, they chest it vp, and giue them all the figge.
And yet no ende of gayning here deuises fine they haue,
To spoyle as well the liuing here, as those that lie in graue.
O God forbid our husbandman, should labour in this plight,
And teach the people one thing here, and doe contrarie quight.
Nor let him be addicted thus to lucre and to gaine,
Nor for to set his heart and minde on wicked treasures vaine.
Let him content himselfe to live in slender simple gree.
That must a Captaine keepe the field where bloudie battailes bee.
The simple man whose purse is light, dare boldely meete his fo,
Whereas the riche man feareth from his riches for to go,
To put his life in ieopardie that now so well is sped,
Who for to lead a pleasant life and voyde of care and dred.
Esteemes nothing that doth belong to God nor honestie,
Comparing gaine what kinde of thing doe we more common see?
Who knoweth not that Pluto hath bene alwayes counted heare,
Of Poets blinded of his sight, and full of fainting feare?
Who so hath any thing to lose, and doth it much esteeme,
Dare not controll the hie estates or such as mightie seeme,
Nor warne the great man of his fault, that runneth here awrie,
Nor teach him how to doe to God his dutie faythfullie.
Where as so many Princes dote, and sinfull crimes commit,
Regarding neyther Gods decrees nor lawes of man a whit:
And such great store of husbandmen vpon their Courts attend,
How chaunceth it that none of them doe mooue them to amend,
Or tell them that they doe amisse? but rather flatter still,
Or passe their time with silence dumme, not speaking good nor yll?
Assuredly the hope of Golde, and pleasant princely fare,
And loue of men constrayneth them hereof to haue no care.
Our husbandman must here dispise both riches, worlde, and strife,
And neyther weigh the Princes wrath, nor hazarde of his life.
Of Iesus still respecting most, the honor and the welth,
His owne estate and office greate, and peoples sauing helth.
If that the common people rude through couetous desire,
Runne hedlong in the deuils chaines to euerlasting fire.
What goulfe of torments doth remaine for learned men that preach,
And most of all for welth and graine, with greedie hande doe reache?
The learned bent to any vice in madnesse doth exceede,
And runne with greater sway and swing to euery wicked deede,
Their folly eke appeareth most when as they doe offende,
And vnto hell with swiftest pace themselues they alwayes sende.
Example of this wretched crime, and of the vengeaunce dewe
Doth Iudas giue that hung himselfe, and eke the king that slewe
Yong Polidor for money sake: a lyke example meete
Is he that once was hoyst aloft, and hanged by the feete,
Whose hed was downewarde thrust by force into Pactolus great,
Bethsaydas brood with fearefull wordes, doth Simon Magus threat,
Desirous for to buy with golde the giftes from heauen sent,
Whereby he might be sooner riche, who after Sathan went.
Let loue of Golde therefore be shunde, and greedie thirst of gaine,
Least Plowmen bring themselues and others, both to endlesse paine.
Besides let lust and daintinesse be clearely cast away,
With fowle excesse of meate and drinke, and Persian prowde aray:
Which things who seekes for to maintaine, no liuing great must lacke,
Offendeth aye the people much, and keepes the Gospell backe.
Let dronkennesse be farre from hence, and loue of pleasant wines,
Which both decay the force and witte, and vnto vice inclines.
Nor let them oft the Tables vse of great and welthie men,
Least they through daintie fare be thought to fawne and flatter them,
And to betray the precious truth, for oft it haps thereby,
Their mouthes stopt vp they dare not speake the truth vnfaynedly.
But as I would our husbandman, these foresayde faults should shunne,
So will I not aduise that he to vice contrary runne.
Ne prayse I life in ryot spent, nor like I slouens guise,
Nor sauage life with vesture fonde in most vnseemely wise.
Such as abide the voyce of such as them haue well aduisde,
Like Demea rude, or Timon, he that all the worlde despisde.
I like not daintie Aristip, nor beastly Cinicks sort,
Nor tables of the Sybarits, nor yet king Porus port.
As prowde is he that feedes on rootes, and goth but poorely clad,
And oftentymes as much desires in honor to be had,
As Persian Prince arayde with golde, and glistring in the eie,
Or yet Lucullus vsing still to fare so daintilie.
All superstition hatefull is, excesse deserueth blame,
If any way to much thou doest thy minde and fancie frame.
Democritus I doe condemne, nor Crassus doe I prayse,
Let measure be obserude and kept in euery thing alwayes.
With meane contented keepe thy selfe, and therein most delight,
For vertue placed there doth lye, as Homer well doth wright.
And more beside (my gracious Lordes) yt they be chiefly taught
To shunne all greedie auarice, and fowle desire of gaine,
A thing that alwayes cōmonly amongst these men doth raigne:
And therefore are they oft reprooude at common peoples handes.
This is the worst they teach men to dispise both goodes and landes
And euery other fading thing, and worldly vaine delight,
And onely for to set their mindes vpon the heauens bright.
For when aboue the rest they seeke, for riches gredilie,
What doe they else but plaine confesse, and truely testifie,
That to no other ende their paynes, in teaching this they take,
Than for to scrape vnto themselues that other men forsake?
As in Vicenza sometime did a carefull Usurer,
(The storie is not very long) it chaunst this man to heare,
That in the towne a learned man of eloquence profounde,
Did preach in euery place abrode where Usurie was founde,
Condemning much the vse thereof, and eke the filthie gaine.
To him he comes and greetes him well, and thankes him for his paine,
And prayse him much for to proceede, in blaming of this vice,
And to disswade the Citizens from filthie auarice.
Declaring eke the greatnesse of the sinne and wretched state,
And how that God aboue all other vices this doth hate:
What torments they shall haue in hell, when as the world doth ende.
And howe they shall be punished that so their money lende.
Thus while with tedious talke he doth molest the aged man,
Rehearsing oftentymes the wordes that he before began:
What mooueth thee, quoth he, for to desire this thing so much,
Since thou thy selfe art one of those that it doth chiefly tuch.
Forsooth quoth he, for nothing else, but when they all were gone
Through your disswasion good, I might receyue this gaine alone.
That now am pestred with the prease, and pinched with my shewes.
None otherwise (their deedes report) these plowmen all doe vse,
Whom well thou mayst perceyue to mocke, and with the world to play,
For earthly things they still doe teach, to leaue and cast away.
[75]
While as themselues the things aboue esteeming not a flie.
But leauing farre behinde their backes, with all their force and might
Do hunt for earthly riches here, and foolish fonde delight.
And looke what people, Princes, Dukes, and mightie Monarches bigge
Haue throwne away, they chest it vp, and giue them all the figge.
And yet no ende of gayning here deuises fine they haue,
To spoyle as well the liuing here, as those that lie in graue.
O God forbid our husbandman, should labour in this plight,
And teach the people one thing here, and doe contrarie quight.
Nor let him be addicted thus to lucre and to gaine,
Nor for to set his heart and minde on wicked treasures vaine.
Let him content himselfe to live in slender simple gree.
That must a Captaine keepe the field where bloudie battailes bee.
The simple man whose purse is light, dare boldely meete his fo,
Whereas the riche man feareth from his riches for to go,
To put his life in ieopardie that now so well is sped,
Who for to lead a pleasant life and voyde of care and dred.
Esteemes nothing that doth belong to God nor honestie,
Comparing gaine what kinde of thing doe we more common see?
Who knoweth not that Pluto hath bene alwayes counted heare,
Of Poets blinded of his sight, and full of fainting feare?
Who so hath any thing to lose, and doth it much esteeme,
Dare not controll the hie estates or such as mightie seeme,
Nor warne the great man of his fault, that runneth here awrie,
Nor teach him how to doe to God his dutie faythfullie.
Where as so many Princes dote, and sinfull crimes commit,
Regarding neyther Gods decrees nor lawes of man a whit:
And such great store of husbandmen vpon their Courts attend,
How chaunceth it that none of them doe mooue them to amend,
Or tell them that they doe amisse? but rather flatter still,
Or passe their time with silence dumme, not speaking good nor yll?
Assuredly the hope of Golde, and pleasant princely fare,
And loue of men constrayneth them hereof to haue no care.
Our husbandman must here dispise both riches, worlde, and strife,
And neyther weigh the Princes wrath, nor hazarde of his life.
76
His owne estate and office greate, and peoples sauing helth.
If that the common people rude through couetous desire,
Runne hedlong in the deuils chaines to euerlasting fire.
What goulfe of torments doth remaine for learned men that preach,
And most of all for welth and graine, with greedie hande doe reache?
The learned bent to any vice in madnesse doth exceede,
And runne with greater sway and swing to euery wicked deede,
Their folly eke appeareth most when as they doe offende,
And vnto hell with swiftest pace themselues they alwayes sende.
Example of this wretched crime, and of the vengeaunce dewe
Doth Iudas giue that hung himselfe, and eke the king that slewe
Yong Polidor for money sake: a lyke example meete
Is he that once was hoyst aloft, and hanged by the feete,
Whose hed was downewarde thrust by force into Pactolus great,
Bethsaydas brood with fearefull wordes, doth Simon Magus threat,
Desirous for to buy with golde the giftes from heauen sent,
Whereby he might be sooner riche, who after Sathan went.
Let loue of Golde therefore be shunde, and greedie thirst of gaine,
Least Plowmen bring themselues and others, both to endlesse paine.
Besides let lust and daintinesse be clearely cast away,
With fowle excesse of meate and drinke, and Persian prowde aray:
Which things who seekes for to maintaine, no liuing great must lacke,
Offendeth aye the people much, and keepes the Gospell backe.
Let dronkennesse be farre from hence, and loue of pleasant wines,
Which both decay the force and witte, and vnto vice inclines.
Nor let them oft the Tables vse of great and welthie men,
Least they through daintie fare be thought to fawne and flatter them,
And to betray the precious truth, for oft it haps thereby,
Their mouthes stopt vp they dare not speake the truth vnfaynedly.
But as I would our husbandman, these foresayde faults should shunne,
So will I not aduise that he to vice contrary runne.
Ne prayse I life in ryot spent, nor like I slouens guise,
Nor sauage life with vesture fonde in most vnseemely wise.
Such as abide the voyce of such as them haue well aduisde,
Like Demea rude, or Timon, he that all the worlde despisde.
[76]
Nor tables of the Sybarits, nor yet king Porus port.
As prowde is he that feedes on rootes, and goth but poorely clad,
And oftentymes as much desires in honor to be had,
As Persian Prince arayde with golde, and glistring in the eie,
Or yet Lucullus vsing still to fare so daintilie.
All superstition hatefull is, excesse deserueth blame,
If any way to much thou doest thy minde and fancie frame.
Democritus I doe condemne, nor Crassus doe I prayse,
Let measure be obserude and kept in euery thing alwayes.
With meane contented keepe thy selfe, and therein most delight,
For vertue placed there doth lye, as Homer well doth wright.
A haynous cryme by publicke fame hath toucht mine cares of late,
A piteous thing for to beholde, and miserable state.
Whersoeuer the worthie name of Christ hath bene reputed hie,
There whoremongers in euery place, and harlets swarming lie:
Aduoutryes fowle and shamefull actes, doe rage in euery place,
In tauernes, hie wayes, streetes, and eke amid the Market place:
Whereof good christian people should not once declare the name,
Much lesse abide or haunt the thing, allowing well the same.
Nor onely on the people doth this sinke of mischiefes light,
Who scarcely knowe the will of God, nor how to serue him right:
But chiefly on their guides, and on the husbandmen profest,
Who know the Lords commaundments well, and brag aboue the rest,
In things belonging vnto God, in all dominions wide,
Most skill to haue and terme themselues the maisters chiefe beside.
O shame with tongue not to be toucht, and fowle iniquitee,
Beholde thy husbandmen, O Christ (if that it lawfull bee,
To call them thine that nowe doe folde, and roll themselues within
Thy sacred name as lothsome Apes in princely Lions skin.)
Aufidius maners vse, and in Sardanapalus guise,
Doe leade their life, and alwayes passe their time in pleasure so,
As Chratis did, Semiramis, and Xerxes long a go,
As men that neuer trayned were, nor fostred in thy lawe,
Or knewe thy dreadfull worde deuine, or stoode thereof in awe.
Or brought vp in the bosome of thy chaste and sacred folde,
But in the Capræan Iles whereas Tiberius built his holde,
Where from their tender youth they vse to drinke and reade the while
The bawdie booke of Sotades, and Eelephantis vile.
What country is there in the world, where Christ his name is knowne,
And Popish lawes by tyranny hath earst bene euer sowne?
What Colledges can you report, what Cities great of name,
What villages in Christendome, or townes of any fame?
Wherein the husbandmen themselues from harlots do refraine,
Where as no great examples fowle of filthie lust remaine?
That scape with lesser punishment, and easlier delt withall,
Than those that breake a light decree in lawe or statute small.
The hyer sort abuse themselues, and liue so voyde of shame,
That iustly can they not controll the meaner for the same.
And dare such beastes the blessed worde of God to others breake?
And both in bodie and soule defilde, of holy scripture speake?
May such disguised wretches full of vice and sinfull crime,
To any man presume to giue the sacraments deuine?
Who could Autolycus or else his crasie father beare,
Or Cacus, or Voranus, if they should them plainly heare,
Disswading men from frawde and theft? who would not all to breake
Both Pulpet and the Tables quite, in hearing Caine to speake,
And to entreate of brothers loue? or else to chastest trade
Of life, to heare the mother of Orestes mad perswade?
Aristo, or Pasiphae, of shamefastnesse to tell?
Or weryed with the vse of men, yet not contented well.
The wife of Cæsar great that past in order last of all,
The shamelesse threshold of the stewes, and hatefull harlots hall?
Farre of from hence you godly men, depart and go in hast,
Among the seruaunts of the Lorde, go seeke for maners chast:
Whom pure religion best becomes, the giftes of God deuine,
Receyue not at such filthie handes, nor of such beastly swine:
More wholesome is the streame by much that from the fountaine cleare
Doth runne, than that which durtie standes in lake defiled heare.
The Lorde himselfe cannot abide yll men to handle heare,
His holy worde, who once forbad the deuill witnesse cleare.
The like did Paule, who of hir tale the Prophetesse did breake,
And would not suffer Phœbus Mayde the certaine truth to speake.
Looke you likewise you suffer not such plowmen as you know,
With any open filthinesse, or wicked vice to flow.
The swine can neuer wholsomely of holy matters speake,
No more than can the Lapwing lewde with fowle and durtie beake.
Here therefore let our plowmen learne to liue in chastitie,
And to restraine the raging force that in his flesh doth lie,
For Gospels sake, least from the same he driue men quite away
With filthie life, and from the loue of Christ him selfe doe stray.
And vnderneath the dreadfull waues of worldly pleasures runne,
From whence he neuer can escape, what neede soeuer come.
But if he cannot leade his life in perfite chastitie,
But feeles himselfe a subiect still to fleshly frailtie,
And flameth euermore with lust: then let him take the holde
Of mariage as a remedie, that scriptures haue him tolde,
And chastly therein leade his life among the vertuous crue,
This libertie doth God alow, and men haue thought it due.
No fault it is t'obay the order of the holy spright,
But rather reason good, and most according vnto right.
A piteous thing for to beholde, and miserable state.
Whersoeuer the worthie name of Christ hath bene reputed hie,
There whoremongers in euery place, and harlets swarming lie:
Aduoutryes fowle and shamefull actes, doe rage in euery place,
In tauernes, hie wayes, streetes, and eke amid the Market place:
Whereof good christian people should not once declare the name,
Much lesse abide or haunt the thing, allowing well the same.
Nor onely on the people doth this sinke of mischiefes light,
Who scarcely knowe the will of God, nor how to serue him right:
But chiefly on their guides, and on the husbandmen profest,
Who know the Lords commaundments well, and brag aboue the rest,
In things belonging vnto God, in all dominions wide,
Most skill to haue and terme themselues the maisters chiefe beside.
O shame with tongue not to be toucht, and fowle iniquitee,
Beholde thy husbandmen, O Christ (if that it lawfull bee,
To call them thine that nowe doe folde, and roll themselues within
Thy sacred name as lothsome Apes in princely Lions skin.)
Aufidius maners vse, and in Sardanapalus guise,
Doe leade their life, and alwayes passe their time in pleasure so,
As Chratis did, Semiramis, and Xerxes long a go,
As men that neuer trayned were, nor fostred in thy lawe,
Or knewe thy dreadfull worde deuine, or stoode thereof in awe.
77
But in the Capræan Iles whereas Tiberius built his holde,
Where from their tender youth they vse to drinke and reade the while
The bawdie booke of Sotades, and Eelephantis vile.
What country is there in the world, where Christ his name is knowne,
And Popish lawes by tyranny hath earst bene euer sowne?
What Colledges can you report, what Cities great of name,
What villages in Christendome, or townes of any fame?
Wherein the husbandmen themselues from harlots do refraine,
Where as no great examples fowle of filthie lust remaine?
That scape with lesser punishment, and easlier delt withall,
Than those that breake a light decree in lawe or statute small.
The hyer sort abuse themselues, and liue so voyde of shame,
That iustly can they not controll the meaner for the same.
And dare such beastes the blessed worde of God to others breake?
And both in bodie and soule defilde, of holy scripture speake?
May such disguised wretches full of vice and sinfull crime,
To any man presume to giue the sacraments deuine?
Who could Autolycus or else his crasie father beare,
Or Cacus, or Voranus, if they should them plainly heare,
Disswading men from frawde and theft? who would not all to breake
Both Pulpet and the Tables quite, in hearing Caine to speake,
And to entreate of brothers loue? or else to chastest trade
Of life, to heare the mother of Orestes mad perswade?
Aristo, or Pasiphae, of shamefastnesse to tell?
Or weryed with the vse of men, yet not contented well.
The wife of Cæsar great that past in order last of all,
The shamelesse threshold of the stewes, and hatefull harlots hall?
Farre of from hence you godly men, depart and go in hast,
Among the seruaunts of the Lorde, go seeke for maners chast:
Whom pure religion best becomes, the giftes of God deuine,
Receyue not at such filthie handes, nor of such beastly swine:
More wholesome is the streame by much that from the fountaine cleare
Doth runne, than that which durtie standes in lake defiled heare.
The Lorde himselfe cannot abide yll men to handle heare,
His holy worde, who once forbad the deuill witnesse cleare.
[77]
And would not suffer Phœbus Mayde the certaine truth to speake.
Looke you likewise you suffer not such plowmen as you know,
With any open filthinesse, or wicked vice to flow.
The swine can neuer wholsomely of holy matters speake,
No more than can the Lapwing lewde with fowle and durtie beake.
Here therefore let our plowmen learne to liue in chastitie,
And to restraine the raging force that in his flesh doth lie,
For Gospels sake, least from the same he driue men quite away
With filthie life, and from the loue of Christ him selfe doe stray.
And vnderneath the dreadfull waues of worldly pleasures runne,
From whence he neuer can escape, what neede soeuer come.
But if he cannot leade his life in perfite chastitie,
But feeles himselfe a subiect still to fleshly frailtie,
And flameth euermore with lust: then let him take the holde
Of mariage as a remedie, that scriptures haue him tolde,
And chastly therein leade his life among the vertuous crue,
This libertie doth God alow, and men haue thought it due.
No fault it is t'obay the order of the holy spright,
But rather reason good, and most according vnto right.
Thus all things well prepared thus, that hereto needefull bee,
Instructed eke in euery arte and learned qualitee,
With good conditions furnished, in minde and bodie cleene,
For filthinesse must banisht be, when scriptures must be seene:
Then vnto this let him applie his witte with all his might,
To finde the chiefest seede to sowe, by which in better plight
Himselfe also may dayly wax. Canst thou not truly tell,
What Garner for to seeke for this, or in what secrete Cell?
What fields to ouerlooke, whereas the knowledge doth remaine,
Of Christ, and vertuous life, without which all things else are vaine?
Giue care vnto the maister great, discending downe from hie,
He willes vs for to search, what doth in holy scriptures lie.
The volumes fiue of Moyses, and the Prophetes all beside,
In them to heare the tongue and voyce of him that all doth guide:
And for to learne what thing is good, and meete for vertuous men,
And eke what things are yll and nought, and to be shoonde of them.
So that we neuer neede the ayde of deuils here to craue,
Or heathens helpe, or for to call the sprite from stinking graue.
Tis sure these Prophets neuer did their owne deuises teach,
Nor mens decrees, but euermore the worde of God did preach.
Hereby appeares howe much we ought their writings for to wey,
What credite eke we ought to giue vnto their wordes alway,
That God by them doth vtter here, who dare his name dispise,
Or yet his worde, by whome is rulde eche thing in earth or skies?
Instructed eke in euery arte and learned qualitee,
With good conditions furnished, in minde and bodie cleene,
For filthinesse must banisht be, when scriptures must be seene:
Then vnto this let him applie his witte with all his might,
To finde the chiefest seede to sowe, by which in better plight
Himselfe also may dayly wax. Canst thou not truly tell,
What Garner for to seeke for this, or in what secrete Cell?
What fields to ouerlooke, whereas the knowledge doth remaine,
Of Christ, and vertuous life, without which all things else are vaine?
Giue care vnto the maister great, discending downe from hie,
He willes vs for to search, what doth in holy scriptures lie.
The volumes fiue of Moyses, and the Prophetes all beside,
In them to heare the tongue and voyce of him that all doth guide:
And for to learne what thing is good, and meete for vertuous men,
And eke what things are yll and nought, and to be shoonde of them.
78
Or heathens helpe, or for to call the sprite from stinking graue.
Tis sure these Prophets neuer did their owne deuises teach,
Nor mens decrees, but euermore the worde of God did preach.
Hereby appeares howe much we ought their writings for to wey,
What credite eke we ought to giue vnto their wordes alway,
That God by them doth vtter here, who dare his name dispise,
Or yet his worde, by whome is rulde eche thing in earth or skies?
First therefore let vs here perswade our selues assuredlie,
Who thinke with God to liue and dwell, aboue the heauens hie:
That God will haue vs to esteeme, whatsoeuer the Prophetes olde,
Inspired with the holy ghost, in auncient time foretolde:
As if himselfe with sacred voyce the wordes pronounced had,
Long time agone by Aungels mouth, he spake to good and bad,
And many things himselfe declarde in that most happie tide,
When as the worlde was not so yll, and he but fewe did guide.
Before that Amrams sonne was borne, while as the Hebrues all,
Were sore oppressed in the lande where Nilus floud doth fall.
But when they were deliuered thence, then Moyses streight did write,
His volumes fiue the Prophets eke put out their workes to light,
That of the worde of God, the sonnes might euermore remaine,
And men no lenger looke to heare the voyce from starry raigne.
Nor can the eares of man abide the speach of God to heare,
As once the Hebrues made afrayde, good witnesse well may beare.
Therefore he mortall doctors vnto mortall men did sende,
As Moyses, Aaron, and such men as euer did attende
About the seruice of the Lorde, and Moyses now in graue,
They read the people still the lawe, and laboured them to saue,
As Prophets, priestes, & Leuits eke, who preacht and alwayes taught,
For to beware of wicked things, and to eschue the naught.
And to conceyue assured hope in Christ the promised seede,
Whereby the hearts might healed be, which griefe had causde to bleede.
This was the Prophets office than, and this their order iust,
When Moyses here had yeelded vp his carkasse vnto dust.
Whose wrytings through the gift of God doe hitherto remaine,
The very doctrine of the holy ghost appearing plaine.
We must not weigh them as the worke of mortall men that die,
But take them as the bookes of God, sent downe from heauens hie.
In like sort must the Gospell here of good men honorde bee,
For both with all the Prophets olde it iustly doth agree,
And with the dreadfull voyce of God, it hath confirmed beene,
Nor any thing repugnant here, may any where be seene.
Therefore the Church did iustly giue the chiefe authoritie,
Unto the holy bookes that in the Bible written lie:
Commaunding that they neuer be abusde by any wight,
But to remaine for euermore in good and perfite plight.
As knowing well hir husbandes voyce, the ender here of strife,
And these the certaine instruments of euerlasting life.
Who thinke with God to liue and dwell, aboue the heauens hie:
That God will haue vs to esteeme, whatsoeuer the Prophetes olde,
Inspired with the holy ghost, in auncient time foretolde:
As if himselfe with sacred voyce the wordes pronounced had,
Long time agone by Aungels mouth, he spake to good and bad,
And many things himselfe declarde in that most happie tide,
When as the worlde was not so yll, and he but fewe did guide.
Before that Amrams sonne was borne, while as the Hebrues all,
Were sore oppressed in the lande where Nilus floud doth fall.
But when they were deliuered thence, then Moyses streight did write,
His volumes fiue the Prophets eke put out their workes to light,
That of the worde of God, the sonnes might euermore remaine,
And men no lenger looke to heare the voyce from starry raigne.
Nor can the eares of man abide the speach of God to heare,
As once the Hebrues made afrayde, good witnesse well may beare.
Therefore he mortall doctors vnto mortall men did sende,
As Moyses, Aaron, and such men as euer did attende
About the seruice of the Lorde, and Moyses now in graue,
They read the people still the lawe, and laboured them to saue,
As Prophets, priestes, & Leuits eke, who preacht and alwayes taught,
For to beware of wicked things, and to eschue the naught.
And to conceyue assured hope in Christ the promised seede,
Whereby the hearts might healed be, which griefe had causde to bleede.
This was the Prophets office than, and this their order iust,
When Moyses here had yeelded vp his carkasse vnto dust.
Whose wrytings through the gift of God doe hitherto remaine,
The very doctrine of the holy ghost appearing plaine.
[78]
But take them as the bookes of God, sent downe from heauens hie.
In like sort must the Gospell here of good men honorde bee,
For both with all the Prophets olde it iustly doth agree,
And with the dreadfull voyce of God, it hath confirmed beene,
Nor any thing repugnant here, may any where be seene.
Therefore the Church did iustly giue the chiefe authoritie,
Unto the holy bookes that in the Bible written lie:
Commaunding that they neuer be abusde by any wight,
But to remaine for euermore in good and perfite plight.
As knowing well hir husbandes voyce, the ender here of strife,
And these the certaine instruments of euerlasting life.
Beside we must esteeme them more than all the Sibylles heare,
Or all the Oken groues that earst to Ioue were counted deare,
And thinke that vnto men these bookes sufficient light doth giue,
Whereby they well may know the will of God, and how to liue.
So that we profite much herein, in knowing that we neede,
Not ransacke other volumes great of fayth or hope to reede.
For miserablie doth he toyle, and tosse his troubled minde,
That seekes his pleasure where it doth not lie, or else is blinde.
Whosoeuer of pure and perfite golde, hath founde the fruitfull vaine,
By which he may to Pelops welth, or Cræsus state attaine,
And passe the Arabians riches here, and Hermus sandes that shines
Will hardly hence be had away to digge in emptie mines,
And vainely pecke in euery rocke, whereas no golde doth lie,
Where trauaile great must be indurde, and nothing got therebie.
To these therefore let husbandmen their mindes and studie giue,
Here shall they finde what needefull is to teach them how to liue.
No neede is here to vexe the minde with turning many bookes,
Nor for to gaze on barraine fielde, with vaine and ydle lookes.
Here of the euerlasting worde, the knowledge full doth lie,
That sonne of God, and Iesus whome the worlde is saued bie:
The knowing of whom alonely, brings vs to euerlasting blysse
And reconciles vs to the father, where we did amysse,
And makes vs heyres of heauen bright, this is the treasure which
Lay hidden in the ground so deepe, and Iewell passing rich,
For which all worldly substance great is well bestowed here:
Looke where thou list thou shalt not finde it any other where.
Leaue searching of the Cesterns, and the Fennes and filthie soyles,
And stinking pondes, when as at home the fountaine freshly boyles.
Here draw of cleare & Cristall streames, here mayst thou drink thy fill,
If thirst of euerlasting life, and vertue mooue thy will:
Giue all thy force and minde hereto, and all thy wittes applie.
Or all the Oken groues that earst to Ioue were counted deare,
And thinke that vnto men these bookes sufficient light doth giue,
Whereby they well may know the will of God, and how to liue.
So that we profite much herein, in knowing that we neede,
Not ransacke other volumes great of fayth or hope to reede.
For miserablie doth he toyle, and tosse his troubled minde,
That seekes his pleasure where it doth not lie, or else is blinde.
Whosoeuer of pure and perfite golde, hath founde the fruitfull vaine,
By which he may to Pelops welth, or Cræsus state attaine,
And passe the Arabians riches here, and Hermus sandes that shines
Will hardly hence be had away to digge in emptie mines,
And vainely pecke in euery rocke, whereas no golde doth lie,
Where trauaile great must be indurde, and nothing got therebie.
To these therefore let husbandmen their mindes and studie giue,
Here shall they finde what needefull is to teach them how to liue.
No neede is here to vexe the minde with turning many bookes,
Nor for to gaze on barraine fielde, with vaine and ydle lookes.
Here of the euerlasting worde, the knowledge full doth lie,
That sonne of God, and Iesus whome the worlde is saued bie:
The knowing of whom alonely, brings vs to euerlasting blysse
And reconciles vs to the father, where we did amysse,
And makes vs heyres of heauen bright, this is the treasure which
Lay hidden in the ground so deepe, and Iewell passing rich,
79
Looke where thou list thou shalt not finde it any other where.
Leaue searching of the Cesterns, and the Fennes and filthie soyles,
And stinking pondes, when as at home the fountaine freshly boyles.
Here draw of cleare & Cristall streames, here mayst thou drink thy fill,
If thirst of euerlasting life, and vertue mooue thy will:
Giue all thy force and minde hereto, and all thy wittes applie.
Moreouer this perswasion doth great profite herein bring,
When in the scriptures plaine appeares, Gods will in euery thing.
What honor we must giue to him, what worship him delightes,
What maners and what wayes are meete to frame the life arightes.
Least superstition in our mindes, or wicked error spring,
And least we preach and blase abrode, some lewde and hurtfull thing.
As if the things sufficed not that God himselfe hath tought,
Or that we thinke by our deuice might better things be wrought.
Who so beleeues that God hath hid no vertue here nor right,
Contents himselfe, and doth obey the worde with all his might,
And faynes not any thing himselfe, nor followes fancie vaine,
Nor any gloses blinde of men, nor dreames of ydle braine.
As most men commonly doe vse, this madnesse vereth sore,
And is a plague that all the worlde doth trouble euermore.
Without the worde of God eche foole dare frame himselfe away,
Procuring eke companions to runne with him astray:
Whom at the first he doth perswade, and after doth constraine
T'obay his folly as a God that ouer all doth raigne.
Let not our husbandman be staynde with such vntowarde minde,
But know the waight of scriptures well, where he may easily finde
What best is to be done or left, least that he wander wide,
Obaying more the voyce of man, than his that all doth guide.
When in the scriptures plaine appeares, Gods will in euery thing.
What honor we must giue to him, what worship him delightes,
What maners and what wayes are meete to frame the life arightes.
Least superstition in our mindes, or wicked error spring,
And least we preach and blase abrode, some lewde and hurtfull thing.
As if the things sufficed not that God himselfe hath tought,
Or that we thinke by our deuice might better things be wrought.
Who so beleeues that God hath hid no vertue here nor right,
Contents himselfe, and doth obey the worde with all his might,
And faynes not any thing himselfe, nor followes fancie vaine,
Nor any gloses blinde of men, nor dreames of ydle braine.
As most men commonly doe vse, this madnesse vereth sore,
And is a plague that all the worlde doth trouble euermore.
Without the worde of God eche foole dare frame himselfe away,
Procuring eke companions to runne with him astray:
Whom at the first he doth perswade, and after doth constraine
T'obay his folly as a God that ouer all doth raigne.
Let not our husbandman be staynde with such vntowarde minde,
But know the waight of scriptures well, where he may easily finde
What best is to be done or left, least that he wander wide,
Obaying more the voyce of man, than his that all doth guide.
Thus boldned let him duely reade the scriptures euermore,
From top to toe, and oft reherse that he hath read before,
And print it deepely in his minde, layde vp in safetie there,
None otherwise than golde or pearles, or such like precious gere.
From whence he largely may disburse to men as cause requires,
The maner how to please the Lorde, and leaue their fonde desires.
And if perhaps he vnderstand not all things perfitely,
Or reade some things that doe declare a great simplicitie:
Let him beware that tediousnesse, nor lothsomnesse him take,
And force him so the sacred worde of God for to forsake.
In prophane wryters many things at first doe not appeare,
But hidden lie, and doe deceyue the readers looking neare.
No maruell then if that the holy ghost declare not all
In easie phrase, but sometime teach with senses mysticall.
Accept the plaine and easie wordes, and those that from thee flie,
With haste pursue and drawe them from the darknesse where they lie:
He blessed is that profiteth both with the hard and plaine,
And is not feared with the tone, nor countes the other vaine,
But markes the order and the guise of Gods most holy spright,
And beares with that in euery case, and takes his meaning right.
From top to toe, and oft reherse that he hath read before,
And print it deepely in his minde, layde vp in safetie there,
None otherwise than golde or pearles, or such like precious gere.
From whence he largely may disburse to men as cause requires,
The maner how to please the Lorde, and leaue their fonde desires.
[79]
Or reade some things that doe declare a great simplicitie:
Let him beware that tediousnesse, nor lothsomnesse him take,
And force him so the sacred worde of God for to forsake.
In prophane wryters many things at first doe not appeare,
But hidden lie, and doe deceyue the readers looking neare.
No maruell then if that the holy ghost declare not all
In easie phrase, but sometime teach with senses mysticall.
Accept the plaine and easie wordes, and those that from thee flie,
With haste pursue and drawe them from the darknesse where they lie:
He blessed is that profiteth both with the hard and plaine,
And is not feared with the tone, nor countes the other vaine,
But markes the order and the guise of Gods most holy spright,
And beares with that in euery case, and takes his meaning right.
First shall he knowe the causes true, and father of eche thing,
From whose commaundment, and whose worde all kind of things doe spring.
Created of no substance here, the stately framed skies,
The breathing ayre, and weightie earth that in the middle lies.
The monstrous waues of raging seas that here and there doe slowe,
And what in sixe dayes worke was wrought for garnishing or showe.
The wondrous sort of creatures straunge, in ayre, in seas, or landes,
That haue bene made, committed to the powre of Adams handes.
From whose commaundment, and whose worde all kind of things doe spring.
Created of no substance here, the stately framed skies,
The breathing ayre, and weightie earth that in the middle lies.
The monstrous waues of raging seas that here and there doe slowe,
And what in sixe dayes worke was wrought for garnishing or showe.
The wondrous sort of creatures straunge, in ayre, in seas, or landes,
That haue bene made, committed to the powre of Adams handes.
By this he also well shall learne, that in the worlde there is,
But one all onely Lorde and king, whose powre almightie is,
Who doth of persons three consist, coequall in degree,
In nature, Godhed, powre, and euerlasting dignitee,
Who doth regarde the deedes and actes, that here on earth are done,
And suffers nothing in the worlde, at random here to runne:
But holdes the helme of all himselfe, and sterne doth onely guide,
Though diuers Ministers he hath for euery thing beside.
But one all onely Lorde and king, whose powre almightie is,
Who doth of persons three consist, coequall in degree,
In nature, Godhed, powre, and euerlasting dignitee,
Who doth regarde the deedes and actes, that here on earth are done,
And suffers nothing in the worlde, at random here to runne:
But holdes the helme of all himselfe, and sterne doth onely guide,
Though diuers Ministers he hath for euery thing beside.
He well shall also vnderstande, the great affection deare,
That God doth alwayes beare to man, who made his subiectes heare,
Both birdes, and beastes, and skalie fishe that in the seas doe swim,
And gaue him from the skies a minde that most resembled him:
Nor left him when he wickedly vpon the fiende did waight,
But threatning Sathan and his traine, to mercie tooke him straight.
That God doth alwayes beare to man, who made his subiectes heare,
Both birdes, and beastes, and skalie fishe that in the seas doe swim,
And gaue him from the skies a minde that most resembled him:
Nor left him when he wickedly vpon the fiende did waight,
But threatning Sathan and his traine, to mercie tooke him straight.
80
Moreouer he shall learne from whence the spring of death and sinne,
And wretched ignorance of truth, did in the worlde beginne:
And what great force of ours remaynes to deale in vertuous deedes:
And whence the safe assured hope of righteousnesse proceedes,
And whence remission of our sinnes. Besides he plaine shall see,
Examples store of Gods great wrath, for such as wicked bee;
And eke againe the mercy great of God omnipotent,
Towards them that vertuous are, and such as earnestly repent.
And wretched ignorance of truth, did in the worlde beginne:
And what great force of ours remaynes to deale in vertuous deedes:
And whence the safe assured hope of righteousnesse proceedes,
And whence remission of our sinnes. Besides he plaine shall see,
Examples store of Gods great wrath, for such as wicked bee;
And eke againe the mercy great of God omnipotent,
Towards them that vertuous are, and such as earnestly repent.
There plainely also shall he see, what things the law doth tell,
How it condemneth euery man, and driueth downe to hell:
That sinne deserueth dreadfull death, and eke the certaine way,
To please the euerlasting Lorde, and him for to obay.
Moreouer that there are good sprites, and aungels faire aboue,
Sent out from God for mans defence, and for their great behoue,
As vnto them the wicked sprites are deadly enimies.
There shall he learne, that soule of man with bodie neuer dies,
Nor that the bodie euermore shall kepe the stinking graue,
But sound and safe at th'ende of the worlde, their olde estate shall haue,
And come to euerlasting life, where of the Iudge seuere,
The fearefull sentence shall they see, and righteous iudgement here.
There shall the wicked sort receyue theyr iust deserued hire,
Cast downe into the smokie pitte of dreadfull flaming fire.
The good exalted to the ioyes of heauen shining bright,
Shall see the face of God, and liue in passing great delight.
And more he well shall vnderstande, the will of God aboue,
What honor here he best esteemes, and what he most doth loue,
What orders he accepteth here, what dutie eke we owe
Unto the Magistrate, the whole estate of mariage shall he knowe.
But of this worthie treasure-great, why call I all to minde?
As if I would the surges tell of seas in raging winde:
Or number all the glistring starres that in the skies appeare,
And cast abrode their golden beames when as the night is cleare:
Or tell howe many thousand leaues in woodie groues doe lie,
While as in Autumne Saturne throwes his frostie flakes from hie:
Or count the number of the eares that through the worlde are seene,
While as approching Harnest neere, the corne forsakes his greene.
There shall he finde whatsoeuer doth to husbandmen belong,
Wherewith to ouerthrow the foe, and to instruct the yong:
Therefore let him at first the bookes of Moyses well applie,
And all the other Prophetes else in order heedilie,
And from the fountaynes draw the worde, and fetch it from the spring,
That perfitely he know the minde of God in euery thing,
But chiefly in the scriptures written by the holy ghost,
These two, the law, and Gospell, let him alwayes thinke on most.
Discerning well betwixt them both, what doth to eche belong,
The propertie of euery one, their force and vertue strong.
Least that he hap to deale therein as most men doe this day,
To make them both agree in one, that differ farre away.
The lawe destroyes, condemnes, & worketh wrath and vengeance due.
And showth vs what we ought to doe, and what we must eschue,
Augmenteth sinne, and driues men downe into the pit of hell,
That doe not heare in euery poynt obserue and keepe it well.
On the other side the Gospell doth bring euerlasting life,
And doth appease the wrath of God for sinne, and ceaseth strife,
And thorow Christ forgiueth all that hath bene done amisse,
And drawth vs from the depth of hell, and placeth vs in blisse.
In giuing ioyes that neuer endes: ne shewes how we should liue,
So much as it the deedes of Christ to vs doth wholy giue,
And maketh righteous euery one, and doth our sinnes deface,
Restoring vnto sauing health, all such as seekes his grace.
Lo here thou seest a diffrence great, that will no vnitee,
No more than fowle deformed death, with life will here agree.
Therefore herein our husbandman must seuer them aright,
Not mingling them togither thus, as iust in egall plight,
Not making Moyses here of Christ, or olde Licurgus sowre,
Nor yet ascribing that to Christ, that longs to Moyses powre.
Let eche of them their office keepe, their time, and eke their place,
Sometime t'is meete the stonie hearts with deadly lawe to chase:
And to declare the dreadfull plagues, that no excuse remaine,
To wretched men that all their life in wickednesse doe traine.
A time againe when meete it is of nothing else to speake,
But graciousnesse, and to relieue and comfort vp the weake,
With sweetenesse great of Iesus milde, both necke and hands vnbound,
From dolefull chaynes of miserie, that weyes them to the ground.
What can be worse than for to kill such as deserue to liue,
And vnto such as death deserue, eternall life to giue?
Which thing doth alwayes come to passe when all things are not well
Discerned as they ought to be, and as I earst did tell.
And though the face of Moyses, and our Sauiours countnance bright,
Must both be bare and open showde, and furnisht out with light,
Yet most of all we ought the name of Christ to magnifie,
And seeke t'advaunce aboue the rest, his prayse and dignitie.
For he of euery other thing is finall ende and summe,
And all things both in heauen and earth, by meanes of him are donne,
And euery thing committed here vnto his holy hande,
Wherein both health and righteousnesse, and death, and life doth stande,
With sauour, grace, and punishment, and whatsoeuer doth lie,
Created heare vpon the earth, or in the heauens hie.
He is the soueraigne king and guide of chosen people pure,
The happie priest, chiefe head and Lorde, and Sanctuarie sure:
The stedfast stone to cleaue vnto, and strongest towre of might,
The glorious Bridegrome, garnished most bewtifull in sight,
That with his owne most precious bloud, did washe and purifie
His spouse from euery spot and staine that might offend the eie.
The onely shepheard, bread, and light, and chiefest maister here:
In fine, the large and welthie horne, where all things doth appere.
Him from the first beginning, God did promise for to giue,
To Adam and his children all, that after him should liue,
A gift that well should pacifie, his iust conceyued yre,
And eke redeeme the dammed soules, from neuer ceassing fyre:
Thus taught the holy ghost abrode, and Moyses did the same,
And all the Prophets after him did blase abrode his fame.
The Apostles bande did preach and teach him all the world throughout,
With trauaile and with labour great. And eke the Lawyer stout,
That was sometime his enimie, confessed openlie,
That nothing here he sought to knowe, saue Iesus that did die
Upon the crosse for mans offence, who at that present time,
Was made our wisedome, righteousnesse, and purger of our crime.
And not by will or force of man, but by th'almighties law.
Why seekst thou here to knowe the cause? the rest not worth a straw,
(Respecting this) thou mayst account but all as darknesse blinde,
And fonde ymaginations, and fancies of the minde,
The perfite way that leades to hell, which here with labor great.
The foolish worlde doth blase abrode, while as it doth intreat,
Of lawes, religion, offices, yea though they taken bee,
From Gods most holy worde, or more from worldly fantasee.
They all are vaine and of no force, except we hereto ioyne
The knowledge pure of Iesus Christ, and maiestie deuine.
The Iewes although the Bible still they gaze and looke vpon,
And honor great do giue vnto the Prophets euery one,
Whose foming lips with boasting of the law the people feedes,
And glorie in such Cartlodes here of good and vertuous deedes,
Yet blinde they still remaine, shut out from euerlasting light,
In darkenesse groping all about, doe runne to hell aright.
What profites bookes or Moyses nowe, or yet the Prophets all,
When as thou dost not vnderstand the chiefe and generall?
Both many & worthie words likewise, from Turkish mouth proceedes,
Of God, his worship, prayers, and good workes, and almose deedes:
And in the sobernesse of life, they farre doe vs excell,
They fast, and keepe their bodyes euer pure, and cleane, and well,
And oft a pilgrimage they runne, with paynes and great expence,
From Saint to Saint to visite shrines, with wondrous reuerence.
But all not worth a strawe. For if that God be angrie still,
And neyther heare their prayers, nor to their vowes he hearken will.
For if he all extreemely hate, and can away with none,
That put not all their confidence in Iesus Christ alone,
As holy scriptures testifie, and teach in euery place:
What profites all this trauaile vaine, or labor voyde of grace?
Like vanitie a great while nowe hath vext the christian sort,
With ignorance of Christ, whose name they onely could report.
The merits of good workes and prayers, mens eares did alwayes fill,
Of vaine and foolish cerimonies, their Pulpets thundred still.
And in the meane time as the Turkes, with name of Christ they play,
Not teaching all our confidence and trust on him to lay.
And thus no good foundation of their doyngs doth remaine:
But as the daughters of Danaus, they labourde all in vaine,
And tooke their trauaile to no ende, with weake and wearie hande,
But tilde vpon the barraine earth, and sowde vpon the sande.
Not that they lacke the worde of God, which likewise had the Iewes:
But that it lay neglected still, and slept in deske and Pewes,
With dust and Cobwebs all to rayde, in fowle and filthie plight:
Whereon if any man by chaunce did happen for to light,
And otherwise than custome was, on leaues a fewe to looke,
As vsde it was in Churches oft, to chaunt vpon the booke.
He sought not here for Christ, nor how to finde the way to skies,
(For that was thought but childishnesse, and plaine to all mens eies,)
But sought for other kinde of things, though worthie sure of prayse,
As for to leade a vertuous life, and to direct his wayes.
Some others vsde to mumble vp the matter speedily,
And with the swiftnesse of their tongue did labor busily.
Regarding neyther sense nor wordes, to whome it seemde a hell,
For to bestow a little time in reading scriptures well.
Hereof sprang vp the blindnesse great, that dazde the people sore,
And well deseruing did oppresse their husbandmen the more.
The knowledge eke of Christ lay hid, that bringeth righteousnesse,
And causeth vs the blessed reigne of heauen to possesse,
Thus warnde by Christes example, and the daunger that may fall,
Our husband man must follow Iesus Christ before them all:
That for the people and himselfe, by this he may prouide,
Least that he stumble at a straw, and mountaynes ouerstride,
And wonder at the village small, and stately towne despise,
And at the entrance misse the house of God before his eies:
Which doth declare a bussard blinde, or one that wants his sight,
Or else some dronken Plowman mad, that knowes no way aright.
How it condemneth euery man, and driueth downe to hell:
That sinne deserueth dreadfull death, and eke the certaine way,
To please the euerlasting Lorde, and him for to obay.
Moreouer that there are good sprites, and aungels faire aboue,
Sent out from God for mans defence, and for their great behoue,
As vnto them the wicked sprites are deadly enimies.
There shall he learne, that soule of man with bodie neuer dies,
Nor that the bodie euermore shall kepe the stinking graue,
But sound and safe at th'ende of the worlde, their olde estate shall haue,
And come to euerlasting life, where of the Iudge seuere,
The fearefull sentence shall they see, and righteous iudgement here.
There shall the wicked sort receyue theyr iust deserued hire,
Cast downe into the smokie pitte of dreadfull flaming fire.
The good exalted to the ioyes of heauen shining bright,
Shall see the face of God, and liue in passing great delight.
And more he well shall vnderstande, the will of God aboue,
What honor here he best esteemes, and what he most doth loue,
What orders he accepteth here, what dutie eke we owe
Unto the Magistrate, the whole estate of mariage shall he knowe.
But of this worthie treasure-great, why call I all to minde?
As if I would the surges tell of seas in raging winde:
Or number all the glistring starres that in the skies appeare,
And cast abrode their golden beames when as the night is cleare:
Or tell howe many thousand leaues in woodie groues doe lie,
While as in Autumne Saturne throwes his frostie flakes from hie:
Or count the number of the eares that through the worlde are seene,
While as approching Harnest neere, the corne forsakes his greene.
[80]
Wherewith to ouerthrow the foe, and to instruct the yong:
Therefore let him at first the bookes of Moyses well applie,
And all the other Prophetes else in order heedilie,
And from the fountaynes draw the worde, and fetch it from the spring,
That perfitely he know the minde of God in euery thing,
But chiefly in the scriptures written by the holy ghost,
These two, the law, and Gospell, let him alwayes thinke on most.
Discerning well betwixt them both, what doth to eche belong,
The propertie of euery one, their force and vertue strong.
Least that he hap to deale therein as most men doe this day,
To make them both agree in one, that differ farre away.
The lawe destroyes, condemnes, & worketh wrath and vengeance due.
And showth vs what we ought to doe, and what we must eschue,
Augmenteth sinne, and driues men downe into the pit of hell,
That doe not heare in euery poynt obserue and keepe it well.
On the other side the Gospell doth bring euerlasting life,
And doth appease the wrath of God for sinne, and ceaseth strife,
And thorow Christ forgiueth all that hath bene done amisse,
And drawth vs from the depth of hell, and placeth vs in blisse.
In giuing ioyes that neuer endes: ne shewes how we should liue,
So much as it the deedes of Christ to vs doth wholy giue,
And maketh righteous euery one, and doth our sinnes deface,
Restoring vnto sauing health, all such as seekes his grace.
Lo here thou seest a diffrence great, that will no vnitee,
No more than fowle deformed death, with life will here agree.
Therefore herein our husbandman must seuer them aright,
Not mingling them togither thus, as iust in egall plight,
Not making Moyses here of Christ, or olde Licurgus sowre,
Nor yet ascribing that to Christ, that longs to Moyses powre.
Let eche of them their office keepe, their time, and eke their place,
Sometime t'is meete the stonie hearts with deadly lawe to chase:
And to declare the dreadfull plagues, that no excuse remaine,
To wretched men that all their life in wickednesse doe traine.
A time againe when meete it is of nothing else to speake,
But graciousnesse, and to relieue and comfort vp the weake,
81
From dolefull chaynes of miserie, that weyes them to the ground.
What can be worse than for to kill such as deserue to liue,
And vnto such as death deserue, eternall life to giue?
Which thing doth alwayes come to passe when all things are not well
Discerned as they ought to be, and as I earst did tell.
And though the face of Moyses, and our Sauiours countnance bright,
Must both be bare and open showde, and furnisht out with light,
Yet most of all we ought the name of Christ to magnifie,
And seeke t'advaunce aboue the rest, his prayse and dignitie.
For he of euery other thing is finall ende and summe,
And all things both in heauen and earth, by meanes of him are donne,
And euery thing committed here vnto his holy hande,
Wherein both health and righteousnesse, and death, and life doth stande,
With sauour, grace, and punishment, and whatsoeuer doth lie,
Created heare vpon the earth, or in the heauens hie.
He is the soueraigne king and guide of chosen people pure,
The happie priest, chiefe head and Lorde, and Sanctuarie sure:
The stedfast stone to cleaue vnto, and strongest towre of might,
The glorious Bridegrome, garnished most bewtifull in sight,
That with his owne most precious bloud, did washe and purifie
His spouse from euery spot and staine that might offend the eie.
The onely shepheard, bread, and light, and chiefest maister here:
In fine, the large and welthie horne, where all things doth appere.
Him from the first beginning, God did promise for to giue,
To Adam and his children all, that after him should liue,
A gift that well should pacifie, his iust conceyued yre,
And eke redeeme the dammed soules, from neuer ceassing fyre:
Thus taught the holy ghost abrode, and Moyses did the same,
And all the Prophets after him did blase abrode his fame.
The Apostles bande did preach and teach him all the world throughout,
With trauaile and with labour great. And eke the Lawyer stout,
That was sometime his enimie, confessed openlie,
That nothing here he sought to knowe, saue Iesus that did die
Upon the crosse for mans offence, who at that present time,
Was made our wisedome, righteousnesse, and purger of our crime.
[81]
Why seekst thou here to knowe the cause? the rest not worth a straw,
(Respecting this) thou mayst account but all as darknesse blinde,
And fonde ymaginations, and fancies of the minde,
The perfite way that leades to hell, which here with labor great.
The foolish worlde doth blase abrode, while as it doth intreat,
Of lawes, religion, offices, yea though they taken bee,
From Gods most holy worde, or more from worldly fantasee.
They all are vaine and of no force, except we hereto ioyne
The knowledge pure of Iesus Christ, and maiestie deuine.
The Iewes although the Bible still they gaze and looke vpon,
And honor great do giue vnto the Prophets euery one,
Whose foming lips with boasting of the law the people feedes,
And glorie in such Cartlodes here of good and vertuous deedes,
Yet blinde they still remaine, shut out from euerlasting light,
In darkenesse groping all about, doe runne to hell aright.
What profites bookes or Moyses nowe, or yet the Prophets all,
When as thou dost not vnderstand the chiefe and generall?
Both many & worthie words likewise, from Turkish mouth proceedes,
Of God, his worship, prayers, and good workes, and almose deedes:
And in the sobernesse of life, they farre doe vs excell,
They fast, and keepe their bodyes euer pure, and cleane, and well,
And oft a pilgrimage they runne, with paynes and great expence,
From Saint to Saint to visite shrines, with wondrous reuerence.
But all not worth a strawe. For if that God be angrie still,
And neyther heare their prayers, nor to their vowes he hearken will.
For if he all extreemely hate, and can away with none,
That put not all their confidence in Iesus Christ alone,
As holy scriptures testifie, and teach in euery place:
What profites all this trauaile vaine, or labor voyde of grace?
Like vanitie a great while nowe hath vext the christian sort,
With ignorance of Christ, whose name they onely could report.
The merits of good workes and prayers, mens eares did alwayes fill,
Of vaine and foolish cerimonies, their Pulpets thundred still.
And in the meane time as the Turkes, with name of Christ they play,
Not teaching all our confidence and trust on him to lay.
82
But as the daughters of Danaus, they labourde all in vaine,
And tooke their trauaile to no ende, with weake and wearie hande,
But tilde vpon the barraine earth, and sowde vpon the sande.
Not that they lacke the worde of God, which likewise had the Iewes:
But that it lay neglected still, and slept in deske and Pewes,
With dust and Cobwebs all to rayde, in fowle and filthie plight:
Whereon if any man by chaunce did happen for to light,
And otherwise than custome was, on leaues a fewe to looke,
As vsde it was in Churches oft, to chaunt vpon the booke.
He sought not here for Christ, nor how to finde the way to skies,
(For that was thought but childishnesse, and plaine to all mens eies,)
But sought for other kinde of things, though worthie sure of prayse,
As for to leade a vertuous life, and to direct his wayes.
Some others vsde to mumble vp the matter speedily,
And with the swiftnesse of their tongue did labor busily.
Regarding neyther sense nor wordes, to whome it seemde a hell,
For to bestow a little time in reading scriptures well.
Hereof sprang vp the blindnesse great, that dazde the people sore,
And well deseruing did oppresse their husbandmen the more.
The knowledge eke of Christ lay hid, that bringeth righteousnesse,
And causeth vs the blessed reigne of heauen to possesse,
Thus warnde by Christes example, and the daunger that may fall,
Our husband man must follow Iesus Christ before them all:
That for the people and himselfe, by this he may prouide,
Least that he stumble at a straw, and mountaynes ouerstride,
And wonder at the village small, and stately towne despise,
And at the entrance misse the house of God before his eies:
Which doth declare a bussard blinde, or one that wants his sight,
Or else some dronken Plowman mad, that knowes no way aright.
This rule obserude, and drinking at the purest fountaine cleare,
And taking counsaile first of God, and alwayes giuing eare
Unto the voyce of Christ our Lorde, reseruing it in minde,
No voyce nor any Paraphrase, nor glose of any kinde.
That olde or newe hath written beene, must be dispisde of thee,
That eyther is the Bridegroomes friend, or else is thought to bee
Both for the Bridegroomes sake, and for the right of all the reast,
That iustly here are called in vnto the Bridegroomes feast.
Yet not without a iudgement great, or straight examining,
Reade thou the workes of any man, or his interpreting:
For oftentymes it comes to passe, that euen the guide of hell,
Takes on himselfe the furniture of Aungels seeming well.
And in the middest of righteous men, the craftie knaue doth stande,
And as a Saint his matters there he taketh than in hande.
Whatsoeuer wryter followeth still the text of scriptures plaine,
With Paule and Peter ioyning iust, and all the Apostles traine,
And teacheth that our health proceedes from onely Christ alone,
And for to liue as he commaundes, and trust to others none,
Him reade, and earnestly withall lay vp his wordes in minde,
As one that onely teacheth, as the holy ghost assignde,
And seekes with all his force and might, to extoll and magnifie,
The honor of the Bridegroome here and soueraigne Maiestie.
But some there are that at the Thresholde of the doore are blinde,
Who leauing all the Prophets, and the testament behinde,
Set out the fonde decrees of men, and fancies lewde and vaine,
Such as the man that neuer heard of Christ, nor of his raigne,
With easie trauaile might inuent, as once did Xenophon,
Isocrates, and Cicero, and others many one.
Who surely better things doe teach, and sounder much are tride,
Than diuers whom we earst haue knowne with baptisme purifide.
These also reade: for vnderneath the dunghill oft doth lie
The precious stone, and many tymes from sandes the Golde we trie.
Scarce can there any booke be founde, so lewde vnlearnde or naught,
But bringeth some commotitie, as Plinie truely taught.
For though there be no learning great, for to be had therein,
And though the phrase and matter all, be scarcely worth a pin.
Though many wicked things they teach, yet good to know the same,
For to auoyde the yll, and of the rest to make a game.
More laugh to heare the Cuccow lewde, to rattle in the throte,
Than for to heare the Nightingale with sweete and pleasant note.
But if these foolishe bookes doe hap, a lothsomenesse to breede,
And to offende the stomacke much, as oft they doe in deede,
Than after reading once or twise, no more aboute them stande,
But giue them to the Spiders, Mothes, or to the Grocers hande,
Whatsoeuer is good esteeme it well, and keepe it for thy neede,
And what is yll dispatch it quite, and take thereof good heede.
But if a controuersie rise amongst the learned men,
And such as teach the people heare with graue and skilfull pen.
If that the matter come to fight, by battaile to be tride,
And that the skirmishe waxeth hote, with bookes on euery side.
Let him a Newter keepe himselfe, neglecting Solons lore,
And meddle not with any part, nor iudgement giue before
He well doe vnderstand the case, and wayde it perfitelie,
Regarding no mans person, stile, nor earthly dignitie,
Nor giftes of happie fortune here that haue bene delt to men,
Nor great or little companie, of such as follow them.
Let neyther priuate loue nor hate perswade him any way,
Nor force him any kinde of thing, on eyther part to say.
Nor kinne nor Countrie mooue his minde, to beare his hande awrie,
And cause the ballance for to swarue, and fall vnequallie.
But free from all affections, let him marke aboue the rest,
Which of them neerest comes to Christ, and followes truth the best,
And keepes the perfite rule of fayth, and iustly doth agree,
With euery thing that in th'apostles volumes written bee.
(For new things no man here may faine) and rightly vnderstande
The worde of God, to such let him assent to giue his hande.
And beare this alwayes in his minde, that scriptures onely must
Be they, whome godly men are bound vndoubtedly to trust.
All other wrytings of such force and value ought to bee,
But onely where with scripture they are found for to agree.
Nor must we here regarde nor wey, what man the Author bee,
Of any learning newe, nor yet howe great the companee.
If that he bring not with him still the perfite Bridegroomes sounde,
And heauenly worde of God, vnto the which are onely bounde
The heartes of mortall men, and which we safely may applie,
And vanquishe both the gates and raigne of hellishe soyle therebie.
What thing hath more disperst it selfe through all the worlde so wide?
What sect hath got so many friendes and followers beside?
What is more constantly affirmde? with sworde and fire defended?
And thought to come from God, as from the loftie skies discended?
Then that so grosse and foolish law of Mahomet the blinde,
Whose doltish dreames among themselues contrary oft we finde?
What shall he doe, if number great of people mooue his minde?
Or generall consent of all the worlde his fansie binde?
Or stately crownes of Emperours, or Diademes of Kings,
With madnesse shall he runne the way that to destruction brings,
And doubtfull hanging iust betwixt the earth and heauen tho,
To hell with crowde and number great of people shall he go.
Go search the scriptures teacheth hee that from the heauens came,
Appoynted by the fathers voyce, the gouernor of man.
He biddes not here the doting fruite of mans deuise to way,
Nor what the loftie Prince commaundes, nor multitude doth say.
For error springs with mortall men by speciall propertie,
And blindnesse from the mothers wombe, doth all accompanie.
From which doth neyther Chaynes redeeme, nor townes, nor princely seat,
Nor wooll that twise hath earst beene dide in purple poyson great.
These are the chiefe desires of Pan, and Mydas fonde delight,
And eke the heddie frantike rage of Princes great of might,
Not onely with the Gentiles lewde, who lacke the light deuine,
But with the learnde and fleshly seede that comes of Abrahams line.
That now thou needste not to condemne of Ocean seas so deepe,
The farthest partes that in Cimmerian mistes and darknesse sleepe.
For all the earth whereas the Sunne doth cast his countnance cleare,
Opprest with dreadfull darknesse great, and blindnesse doth appeare.
In matters touching fayth therefore, and ioyes of heauen than,
Let him not trust the iudgement here of any kinde of man.
But know that men will alwayes lie, with mindes disposed yll,
Except the holy ghost, and worde of God doe guide them still.
Which whether it be done or not, let scriptures here decide,
Considering well of euery part, as Argus throughly eide.
Except he doth dispise the wordes that Christ did once declare,
Who doth commaund attentiuely, false Prophets to beware.
The like hath Paule commaunded oft, and earnestly doth will,
So doth the sonne of Zebedey by good and perfite skill.
And taking counsaile first of God, and alwayes giuing eare
Unto the voyce of Christ our Lorde, reseruing it in minde,
No voyce nor any Paraphrase, nor glose of any kinde.
That olde or newe hath written beene, must be dispisde of thee,
That eyther is the Bridegroomes friend, or else is thought to bee
[82]
That iustly here are called in vnto the Bridegroomes feast.
Yet not without a iudgement great, or straight examining,
Reade thou the workes of any man, or his interpreting:
For oftentymes it comes to passe, that euen the guide of hell,
Takes on himselfe the furniture of Aungels seeming well.
And in the middest of righteous men, the craftie knaue doth stande,
And as a Saint his matters there he taketh than in hande.
Whatsoeuer wryter followeth still the text of scriptures plaine,
With Paule and Peter ioyning iust, and all the Apostles traine,
And teacheth that our health proceedes from onely Christ alone,
And for to liue as he commaundes, and trust to others none,
Him reade, and earnestly withall lay vp his wordes in minde,
As one that onely teacheth, as the holy ghost assignde,
And seekes with all his force and might, to extoll and magnifie,
The honor of the Bridegroome here and soueraigne Maiestie.
But some there are that at the Thresholde of the doore are blinde,
Who leauing all the Prophets, and the testament behinde,
Set out the fonde decrees of men, and fancies lewde and vaine,
Such as the man that neuer heard of Christ, nor of his raigne,
With easie trauaile might inuent, as once did Xenophon,
Isocrates, and Cicero, and others many one.
Who surely better things doe teach, and sounder much are tride,
Than diuers whom we earst haue knowne with baptisme purifide.
These also reade: for vnderneath the dunghill oft doth lie
The precious stone, and many tymes from sandes the Golde we trie.
Scarce can there any booke be founde, so lewde vnlearnde or naught,
But bringeth some commotitie, as Plinie truely taught.
For though there be no learning great, for to be had therein,
And though the phrase and matter all, be scarcely worth a pin.
Though many wicked things they teach, yet good to know the same,
For to auoyde the yll, and of the rest to make a game.
More laugh to heare the Cuccow lewde, to rattle in the throte,
Than for to heare the Nightingale with sweete and pleasant note.
But if these foolishe bookes doe hap, a lothsomenesse to breede,
And to offende the stomacke much, as oft they doe in deede,
83
But giue them to the Spiders, Mothes, or to the Grocers hande,
Whatsoeuer is good esteeme it well, and keepe it for thy neede,
And what is yll dispatch it quite, and take thereof good heede.
But if a controuersie rise amongst the learned men,
And such as teach the people heare with graue and skilfull pen.
If that the matter come to fight, by battaile to be tride,
And that the skirmishe waxeth hote, with bookes on euery side.
Let him a Newter keepe himselfe, neglecting Solons lore,
And meddle not with any part, nor iudgement giue before
He well doe vnderstand the case, and wayde it perfitelie,
Regarding no mans person, stile, nor earthly dignitie,
Nor giftes of happie fortune here that haue bene delt to men,
Nor great or little companie, of such as follow them.
Let neyther priuate loue nor hate perswade him any way,
Nor force him any kinde of thing, on eyther part to say.
Nor kinne nor Countrie mooue his minde, to beare his hande awrie,
And cause the ballance for to swarue, and fall vnequallie.
But free from all affections, let him marke aboue the rest,
Which of them neerest comes to Christ, and followes truth the best,
And keepes the perfite rule of fayth, and iustly doth agree,
With euery thing that in th'apostles volumes written bee.
(For new things no man here may faine) and rightly vnderstande
The worde of God, to such let him assent to giue his hande.
And beare this alwayes in his minde, that scriptures onely must
Be they, whome godly men are bound vndoubtedly to trust.
All other wrytings of such force and value ought to bee,
But onely where with scripture they are found for to agree.
Nor must we here regarde nor wey, what man the Author bee,
Of any learning newe, nor yet howe great the companee.
If that he bring not with him still the perfite Bridegroomes sounde,
And heauenly worde of God, vnto the which are onely bounde
The heartes of mortall men, and which we safely may applie,
And vanquishe both the gates and raigne of hellishe soyle therebie.
What thing hath more disperst it selfe through all the worlde so wide?
What sect hath got so many friendes and followers beside?
[83]
And thought to come from God, as from the loftie skies discended?
Then that so grosse and foolish law of Mahomet the blinde,
Whose doltish dreames among themselues contrary oft we finde?
What shall he doe, if number great of people mooue his minde?
Or generall consent of all the worlde his fansie binde?
Or stately crownes of Emperours, or Diademes of Kings,
With madnesse shall he runne the way that to destruction brings,
And doubtfull hanging iust betwixt the earth and heauen tho,
To hell with crowde and number great of people shall he go.
Go search the scriptures teacheth hee that from the heauens came,
Appoynted by the fathers voyce, the gouernor of man.
He biddes not here the doting fruite of mans deuise to way,
Nor what the loftie Prince commaundes, nor multitude doth say.
For error springs with mortall men by speciall propertie,
And blindnesse from the mothers wombe, doth all accompanie.
From which doth neyther Chaynes redeeme, nor townes, nor princely seat,
Nor wooll that twise hath earst beene dide in purple poyson great.
These are the chiefe desires of Pan, and Mydas fonde delight,
And eke the heddie frantike rage of Princes great of might,
Not onely with the Gentiles lewde, who lacke the light deuine,
But with the learnde and fleshly seede that comes of Abrahams line.
That now thou needste not to condemne of Ocean seas so deepe,
The farthest partes that in Cimmerian mistes and darknesse sleepe.
For all the earth whereas the Sunne doth cast his countnance cleare,
Opprest with dreadfull darknesse great, and blindnesse doth appeare.
In matters touching fayth therefore, and ioyes of heauen than,
Let him not trust the iudgement here of any kinde of man.
But know that men will alwayes lie, with mindes disposed yll,
Except the holy ghost, and worde of God doe guide them still.
Which whether it be done or not, let scriptures here decide,
Considering well of euery part, as Argus throughly eide.
Except he doth dispise the wordes that Christ did once declare,
Who doth commaund attentiuely, false Prophets to beware.
The like hath Paule commaunded oft, and earnestly doth will,
So doth the sonne of Zebedey by good and perfite skill.
84
But for the iudgement now in bookes, and their examining,
Our Plowman must giue heede to this, as to a speciall thing,
That to no doctor here he binde himselfe continuallie,
Although the same be learnde, and had in estimation hie,
And of the people honorde much, and worshipt for his skill,
Least by this meanes he be enforst with good to swallow ill,
And maintaine lies in steede of troth, yea for his maisters sake,
To wrest and wrie, and small account of scriptures for to make.
But let him kepe his iudgement, and reserue his libertee,
To alowe the things that with the holy sprite agreeing bee.
And to reiect the lewde and false, with malice neuer mooude,
But onely with the loue of truth, which as before I prooude,
Must onely here respected bee, no kinde of man beside,
Nor loftie hats, that earst hath beene with purple colour dide,
Nor multitudes in number great, nor prease of people rife,
Nor miracles that haue bene ioynde with holinesse of life.
For since the Apostles worthie time, hath not bene knowne to liue,
A man to whome in euery thing we credite safe may giue.
For through affections of the minde, the generall companie,
That both in Greeke or Latine write, doe often runne awrie,
And from the perfite path decline, and doth the scriptures wrong,
Inforcing them to other sense than doth to them belong,
While as they tooke not heede ynough, or else too earnest were,
In things they went about for to perswade or maintaine here.
Oft times they supersticious things doe teach and fansies vaine,
That neither with the Gospell doe agree, nor christian raigne.
Let these be spottes and marks that in thy body fayre appere,
Yet thinke we them not worthie prayse, nor to be made of here.
As on the other side, for these we may not damne the rest,
That soundly they haue vttred here, and Christianly exprest,
A foolish loue and all to blinde, is it when we allowe,
The manifest deformities, and them for good auowe,
And in a princely hall commend the dung before our face.
Let euery thing retaine his name, his praise, and eke his place:
And let not things contrarie quite, haue both one worshipping,
Nor yet that matters base and vile, be sealde with precious ring.
Wherein they shall constrayned be, to trespasse now and than,
That in this sort addict themselues to any priuate man.
Our Plowman must giue heede to this, as to a speciall thing,
That to no doctor here he binde himselfe continuallie,
Although the same be learnde, and had in estimation hie,
And of the people honorde much, and worshipt for his skill,
Least by this meanes he be enforst with good to swallow ill,
And maintaine lies in steede of troth, yea for his maisters sake,
To wrest and wrie, and small account of scriptures for to make.
But let him kepe his iudgement, and reserue his libertee,
To alowe the things that with the holy sprite agreeing bee.
And to reiect the lewde and false, with malice neuer mooude,
But onely with the loue of truth, which as before I prooude,
Must onely here respected bee, no kinde of man beside,
Nor loftie hats, that earst hath beene with purple colour dide,
Nor multitudes in number great, nor prease of people rife,
Nor miracles that haue bene ioynde with holinesse of life.
For since the Apostles worthie time, hath not bene knowne to liue,
A man to whome in euery thing we credite safe may giue.
For through affections of the minde, the generall companie,
That both in Greeke or Latine write, doe often runne awrie,
And from the perfite path decline, and doth the scriptures wrong,
Inforcing them to other sense than doth to them belong,
While as they tooke not heede ynough, or else too earnest were,
In things they went about for to perswade or maintaine here.
Oft times they supersticious things doe teach and fansies vaine,
That neither with the Gospell doe agree, nor christian raigne.
Let these be spottes and marks that in thy body fayre appere,
Yet thinke we them not worthie prayse, nor to be made of here.
As on the other side, for these we may not damne the rest,
That soundly they haue vttred here, and Christianly exprest,
A foolish loue and all to blinde, is it when we allowe,
The manifest deformities, and them for good auowe,
And in a princely hall commend the dung before our face.
Let euery thing retaine his name, his praise, and eke his place:
And let not things contrarie quite, haue both one worshipping,
Nor yet that matters base and vile, be sealde with precious ring.
[84]
That in this sort addict themselues to any priuate man.
But this is not the greatest harme that happeneth thereby,
In such as to one Author binde themselues continaully,
There is another greater thing and worser aye by much:
They care for no man here beside, nor make account of such,
As painefully doe write or teach, especially if hee
In any poynt doe swarue, and from their maister disagree,
Whom onely here they make their God, as one that cannot lie,
Nor be deceyude in any poynt, nor euer treade awrie.
He onely lookes not by the glasse, nor shadowes here that lyes,
But all things openly discernes, with more than Lynceus eyes.
Who if he any thing commend, their prayses than excell,
And looke what he doth here mislike, they damne it downe to hell,
And at an ynche they follow him, and iumpe with him they go,
And euermore as he decrees, there mindes are altred tho.
Of these men canst thou looke for good, or faythfull husbandmen?
Imaginst thou that euer truth can be esteemde of them?
Or that they can vprightly teach: he that from loftie raigne
Of heauen came, did not forbid his followers here in vaine.
No man on earth their maister, or their father for to call,
For why he knewe in euery place were swarmes of doctors all,
Puft vp with pride, by reason of the learning that they had,
Who chiefly sought for to aduaunce their owne deuices mad,
And cleerely doe deface the truth: and here in euery thing,
To conquer all mens heartes, and them vnto subiection bring.
Sith cleauing to one maister still, doth make men soonest fall,
We neyther must our parents here, nor friendes esteeme at all.
But onely Iesus as the Doctor chiefe we must obay,
As one that onely teacheth here the truth and perfite way.
This was the auncient fathers rule, for this the writers newe,
Haue striuen long, and plaine disclosde a lewde and lothsome crewe
Of errors blinde, wherein great learned men in time did stray,
Whereat I more doe muse why men should at this present day
Allow this rule, and vse it boldely towarde euery man,
When as the workes of writers newe, and of the olde they scan.
Yet as if they in heauen should continually abide,
Of no man here they will be iudge, nor haue their matters tride,
But would be thought in euery thing to touch the perfite pinne,
Whose doings here to bring in doubt, or to resist is sinne,
And taken for a deadly crime that needeth sacrifice,
Whatsoeuer they teach must be deuourde with shut and closed eies.
If that thou doubt, and that thy stomacke loth at diuers things,
Then hatred and defiance straight, and hurly burly springs,
And daungers great doth thee awayte, and prison hard at hand,
And death with cruell torments neare, vnto thy head doth stand,
Thou happie art and eke thy birth hath fortune fauourde right,
If that thou mayste thy countrie leaue in poore and simple plight.
And is not this a foolishe rage, and madnesse grosse and blinde?
Yet numbers great of fooles that doe accept this same they finde,
And binde themselues to all their toyes, and farther with them go,
Esteeming all their dooings here, as God had wilde it so.
Nor any thing herein they doubt, and worse than Todes they hate
All those that seeme to doubt thereof, or speake against their state.
Euen as a loftie Pine, they labour such to throwe to ground,
And worser than their maisters farre, in all things are they found.
Therefore addict thy selfe to none, but gather still the best,
And things that well agreeing be, with worde of God exprest:
The other to the Doctor leaue, or to his foolish bande,
Nor suffer him in sted of Golde, to giue thee durtie sande.
In such as to one Author binde themselues continaully,
There is another greater thing and worser aye by much:
They care for no man here beside, nor make account of such,
As painefully doe write or teach, especially if hee
In any poynt doe swarue, and from their maister disagree,
Whom onely here they make their God, as one that cannot lie,
Nor be deceyude in any poynt, nor euer treade awrie.
He onely lookes not by the glasse, nor shadowes here that lyes,
But all things openly discernes, with more than Lynceus eyes.
Who if he any thing commend, their prayses than excell,
And looke what he doth here mislike, they damne it downe to hell,
And at an ynche they follow him, and iumpe with him they go,
And euermore as he decrees, there mindes are altred tho.
Of these men canst thou looke for good, or faythfull husbandmen?
Imaginst thou that euer truth can be esteemde of them?
Or that they can vprightly teach: he that from loftie raigne
Of heauen came, did not forbid his followers here in vaine.
No man on earth their maister, or their father for to call,
For why he knewe in euery place were swarmes of doctors all,
Puft vp with pride, by reason of the learning that they had,
Who chiefly sought for to aduaunce their owne deuices mad,
And cleerely doe deface the truth: and here in euery thing,
To conquer all mens heartes, and them vnto subiection bring.
Sith cleauing to one maister still, doth make men soonest fall,
We neyther must our parents here, nor friendes esteeme at all.
But onely Iesus as the Doctor chiefe we must obay,
As one that onely teacheth here the truth and perfite way.
This was the auncient fathers rule, for this the writers newe,
Haue striuen long, and plaine disclosde a lewde and lothsome crewe
Of errors blinde, wherein great learned men in time did stray,
Whereat I more doe muse why men should at this present day
Allow this rule, and vse it boldely towarde euery man,
When as the workes of writers newe, and of the olde they scan.
85
Of no man here they will be iudge, nor haue their matters tride,
But would be thought in euery thing to touch the perfite pinne,
Whose doings here to bring in doubt, or to resist is sinne,
And taken for a deadly crime that needeth sacrifice,
Whatsoeuer they teach must be deuourde with shut and closed eies.
If that thou doubt, and that thy stomacke loth at diuers things,
Then hatred and defiance straight, and hurly burly springs,
And daungers great doth thee awayte, and prison hard at hand,
And death with cruell torments neare, vnto thy head doth stand,
Thou happie art and eke thy birth hath fortune fauourde right,
If that thou mayste thy countrie leaue in poore and simple plight.
And is not this a foolishe rage, and madnesse grosse and blinde?
Yet numbers great of fooles that doe accept this same they finde,
And binde themselues to all their toyes, and farther with them go,
Esteeming all their dooings here, as God had wilde it so.
Nor any thing herein they doubt, and worse than Todes they hate
All those that seeme to doubt thereof, or speake against their state.
Euen as a loftie Pine, they labour such to throwe to ground,
And worser than their maisters farre, in all things are they found.
Therefore addict thy selfe to none, but gather still the best,
And things that well agreeing be, with worde of God exprest:
The other to the Doctor leaue, or to his foolish bande,
Nor suffer him in sted of Golde, to giue thee durtie sande.
But though the almightie Lorde hath here deliuered vnto men
His holy worde, with wryters store, and worthie husbandmen,
Whereby the truth may well be knowne, and Christ that doth redeeme,
And all men ought to learne and reade, but chiefly such as meene
To take the holy plough in hande, and mindes in order bring:
Yet shalt thou not discerne the truth, nor Christ the soueraigne king,
Except the holy ghost from hie instruct thy feeble minde,
And teach thee here the perfite path, and certaine way to finde.
Beholde in euery place, what store of schooles are to be seene,
What numbers great of Doctors here, whose learning men esteeme:
What companie of bookes, and eke what care to learne and teach,
Yet emptie standes the Pulpet still, and fewe of Christ do preach,
And fewe regarde to heare of him, nothing is pure or cleene,
Nor of the holy ghost may any steps or path be seene:
The earthly things are had in price, and worldly wisedome vaine,
But no man seekes the doctrine that belonges to christian raigne.
From whence proceedes such mischiefe great of God, the furie fell
It is wherewith he plagues contempt, and worlde that doth rebell,
And doth denie his heauenly deawes to euery studie still,
And onely leaues the worlde the shell and letter that doth kill.
Himselfe the kirnell close doth kepe, and takes the pith away,
And lewde dispisers doth dispise, and suffers them to stray
In worldly trifles fonde and vaine, wherewith they feede their flocke,
Why should he open heauen gates to such as doe not knocke?
Why should he giue his holy sprite, his Christ and giftes deuine
To them that neuer aske, but with a frowning looke repine?
Thus men still trusting to their wits, while as they seeke to finde
The way to heauen with fonde decrees, and actes of diuers kinde,
In sundrie follies drowne themselues, and labour all in vaine,
And hedlong hurle themselues into the flouds of hellish raigne.
But thou applie thy force and minde, and banishe slouthfull ease,
Spread out the sayles of diligence, and trie the learned seas.
Remember yet the ayde of God, and helpe of heauenly light,
And pray to God continually, to giue the heart his spright,
And to reueale the certaine truth, thy minde for to inspire
With Christ the sauing health, who ought to be thy chiefe desire,
Thy onely glory, and thy talke, and in thy minde to lie,
In setting forth whose honour, thou thy learnings must applie.
These things if that with earnest minde, of God thou dost require,
No doubt but he will helpe thee straight, and graunt thee thy desire,
And fill thy open mouth with foode, and precious treasures great:
Thus hath he promised, and likes it well when we entreat.
Dost thou not see howe Salomon did greatly him delight,
In asking neyther goodes nor life, but wit and iudgement right,
Howe much aboue all other men he thereby did receaue?
Go pray therefore, and knocke a pace, desire and neuer leaue.
Thou neuer canst thy selfe desire more earnestly to haue,
Than he is readie for to giue to such as thus doe craue,
The blessed giftes of heauenly sprite. Thence shall he open wide,
The secret Celles of sacred bookes, and wisedome great beside,
Wherein the sweetest sight of all may Christ be plainely seene,
That of the chosen euermore, the onely hope hath beene,
And many mysteries beside of straunge and wondrous kinde,
Kept still in secret from the worlde, that euermore is blinde,
Which no dispiser lewde may knowe. His worde eke will he teach
Abundantly, and giue a sprite that earnestly shall preach.
Who if he giue thee not these things, and thou to aske disdaine,
In learning onely shalt thou not bestow thy time in vaine,
But what thou speakste shall foolish be, vnsauory, and vnsweete,
Disordred eke in euery poynt, not hauing hed nor feete.
Nor Doctor shalt thou counted be, but for a trifler vaine,
A duns, a foolish babler, and most worthie of disdaine,
Whose presence, voice, and foolish wordes, no sheepe of Christ will hear
That knowes the voyce of Iesus Christ, & Gods cōmaundments clear.
What profites it forsaking God, to be accounted great,
And with the damned stinking Goates to haue the hyest seat.
Like as the Iewishe Rabbines haue, among the castawayes,
And as the teachers of the Turkes, and many in these dayes,
That bounce and beate the Pulpet still, with lothsome noyce and crie,
Meete onely for to raile, and in the rest not worth a flie?
A great thing is it in the house of God to drudge and sweepe,
And seruaunt in the earth to be vnto the chosen sheepe.
For such a worthie rowme therefore, looke well thou worthie bee,
Requiring God continually to graunt this force to thee,
To giue thee grace and strength thereto, and while thou here dost liue,
Eschue no trauaile great, nor toyle, thy minde to labor giue.
His holy worde, with wryters store, and worthie husbandmen,
Whereby the truth may well be knowne, and Christ that doth redeeme,
And all men ought to learne and reade, but chiefly such as meene
To take the holy plough in hande, and mindes in order bring:
Yet shalt thou not discerne the truth, nor Christ the soueraigne king,
Except the holy ghost from hie instruct thy feeble minde,
And teach thee here the perfite path, and certaine way to finde.
Beholde in euery place, what store of schooles are to be seene,
What numbers great of Doctors here, whose learning men esteeme:
What companie of bookes, and eke what care to learne and teach,
Yet emptie standes the Pulpet still, and fewe of Christ do preach,
[85]
Nor of the holy ghost may any steps or path be seene:
The earthly things are had in price, and worldly wisedome vaine,
But no man seekes the doctrine that belonges to christian raigne.
From whence proceedes such mischiefe great of God, the furie fell
It is wherewith he plagues contempt, and worlde that doth rebell,
And doth denie his heauenly deawes to euery studie still,
And onely leaues the worlde the shell and letter that doth kill.
Himselfe the kirnell close doth kepe, and takes the pith away,
And lewde dispisers doth dispise, and suffers them to stray
In worldly trifles fonde and vaine, wherewith they feede their flocke,
Why should he open heauen gates to such as doe not knocke?
Why should he giue his holy sprite, his Christ and giftes deuine
To them that neuer aske, but with a frowning looke repine?
Thus men still trusting to their wits, while as they seeke to finde
The way to heauen with fonde decrees, and actes of diuers kinde,
In sundrie follies drowne themselues, and labour all in vaine,
And hedlong hurle themselues into the flouds of hellish raigne.
But thou applie thy force and minde, and banishe slouthfull ease,
Spread out the sayles of diligence, and trie the learned seas.
Remember yet the ayde of God, and helpe of heauenly light,
And pray to God continually, to giue the heart his spright,
And to reueale the certaine truth, thy minde for to inspire
With Christ the sauing health, who ought to be thy chiefe desire,
Thy onely glory, and thy talke, and in thy minde to lie,
In setting forth whose honour, thou thy learnings must applie.
These things if that with earnest minde, of God thou dost require,
No doubt but he will helpe thee straight, and graunt thee thy desire,
And fill thy open mouth with foode, and precious treasures great:
Thus hath he promised, and likes it well when we entreat.
Dost thou not see howe Salomon did greatly him delight,
In asking neyther goodes nor life, but wit and iudgement right,
Howe much aboue all other men he thereby did receaue?
Go pray therefore, and knocke a pace, desire and neuer leaue.
Thou neuer canst thy selfe desire more earnestly to haue,
Than he is readie for to giue to such as thus doe craue,
86
The secret Celles of sacred bookes, and wisedome great beside,
Wherein the sweetest sight of all may Christ be plainely seene,
That of the chosen euermore, the onely hope hath beene,
And many mysteries beside of straunge and wondrous kinde,
Kept still in secret from the worlde, that euermore is blinde,
Which no dispiser lewde may knowe. His worde eke will he teach
Abundantly, and giue a sprite that earnestly shall preach.
Who if he giue thee not these things, and thou to aske disdaine,
In learning onely shalt thou not bestow thy time in vaine,
But what thou speakste shall foolish be, vnsauory, and vnsweete,
Disordred eke in euery poynt, not hauing hed nor feete.
Nor Doctor shalt thou counted be, but for a trifler vaine,
A duns, a foolish babler, and most worthie of disdaine,
Whose presence, voice, and foolish wordes, no sheepe of Christ will hear
That knowes the voyce of Iesus Christ, & Gods cōmaundments clear.
What profites it forsaking God, to be accounted great,
And with the damned stinking Goates to haue the hyest seat.
Like as the Iewishe Rabbines haue, among the castawayes,
And as the teachers of the Turkes, and many in these dayes,
That bounce and beate the Pulpet still, with lothsome noyce and crie,
Meete onely for to raile, and in the rest not worth a flie?
A great thing is it in the house of God to drudge and sweepe,
And seruaunt in the earth to be vnto the chosen sheepe.
For such a worthie rowme therefore, looke well thou worthie bee,
Requiring God continually to graunt this force to thee,
To giue thee grace and strength thereto, and while thou here dost liue,
Eschue no trauaile great, nor toyle, thy minde to labor giue.
According to thy calling, let thy house well furnisht bee,
Not glistring all with sumptuous plate, nor costly Imageree,
Nor hangde about with Arras rich, nor pleasant Tapestrie.
Let all Th'assirian furnitures, and Phrygian bewtie lie,
Nor seale thy house with Iuory white, nor Marble grauen fine,
Ne let thy walles with painted Tables of Apelles shine,
Nor with Parrhasius costly workes, nor Euphranors beside,
These things are meete for Princes great, and men addict to pride.
Who (foolish) much regarde such toyes, with loftie swelling minde,
And little wisedome got thereby, not meete for such a kinde
Of men as search for heauenly things, and scriptures doe applie:
And of poore Christ do preach the worde, and doctrine faythfullie.
Dresse vp thy house in comely sort, but not with great expence,
Cleane kept, and swept, perfumed well, with pleasant franconsence,
With berries sweete of Iunyper, or in the Sommer time,
With Lauender, or Uiolets, and Roses sweete and fine,
Or pleasant Lillies white. Sweete smelles the wit doth chiefly feede,
As stinking ayre doth dull the minde, and great diseases breede.
Let large and faire thy studie be, and lightsome euery where,
Farre placde from any filthie smell, no sinke nor dunghill nere,
No lothsome priuie there aboutes, no marshe nor lakes at hande,
Nor filthie vapours that arise from stinking pooles that stande.
Here let thy chiefest goodes appeare, and bookes in number great,
Of sundrie sort, among the which, the best and highest seat
The Bible chalengeth of right, which many yeares agone,
Was written by the holy sprite, and in the tongues eche one,
Wherein it hath bene written here. Of which the chiefest grace
The Hebrue hath, and next to it the Chaldean tongue hath place.
Let not the Greeke translation want, but stand among the rest,
Which seuentie sundrie men did write, at Nilian kings request,
And which the auncient fathers vsde, that Christ of olde did preach,
And with their vertuous wrytings graue, the Christian fayth did teach.
Then let the worthie Doctors all, and famous christian crue,
That long time since haue written bookes, be placde in order due.
And next vnto the Bible, first let Austine haue his place,
Who hath among the writers all, in Latine chiefest grace,
Whose pregnant wit found out the truth, and syfteth all things well,
Whose iudgement in detecting fraude, did others farre excell.
And next to him his auncient friend, let Ierome haue his seat,
Well knowne vnto the world, for skill in tongues, and wisedome great,
Who perfite was in euery arte, and learned science tho,
And was not farre behinde in match to worthie Cicero.
Let Ambrose also there be set, with learned phrase and sweete,
Whose fatherly heart in instructing well, doth teach vs what is meete.
Nor let Hillarius absent bee, nor Athanasius great,
Who alwayes doth with stedfast tongue of pure religion treate:
Nor both the Gregories that in the Grecian tongue excell,
Whose glistring beames vnto the world hath erst bene knowne ful wel.
Let Cyprian eke the Martyr here, an handsome place possesse,
And vertuous Basyll, and Chrysostome full of holinesse,
Whose wordes doe like a fountaine flowe, and eke whose worthie wit
For eloquence excelles, amid whose lappas doth Pitho sit.
Let Irenæus haue his place, a famous wryter olde,
Let Origen be placed there, and eke Cyrillus bolde,
And sundrie others mo, that doe in Greeke and Latine write
The names of whome it were to long and tedious to resite.
Take also those that liued next, of lesse antiquitee,
Although for fayth nor vertue they may not compared bee
With those so famous fathers olde, and though they rudely write,
Not hauing eloquence alike, nor cunning to endite.
And to fill vp the number, let in worthie places stande,
Such men as in this age of ours haue set their helping hande,
Whereof thou not a fewe shalt finde, that to these Doctor good
Full neare haue gone, and through the holy ghost haue vnderstood
Such things as fewe before haue knowne, who not inferior bee,
In knowledge tongues and eloquence, and in diuinitee,
Unto those men that wrote of olde, for God hath at this time
Brought forth such glistering beames of light, & causde thē forth to shine,
And wondrous giftes hath delt abrode as no man can denie,
That wisedome hath, for which we are bounde to yeelde continually
Great thankes and prayses to his name, and well to vse them here,
To our behoofe, and profite great, and not for to dispise
Them as the custome is of olde, in shamefull sort and guise,
Wherewith the things that in our daies are found and brought to light,
Though neuer so good, we do contemne with lothsome appetite.
On th'other side, the fashions olde, and such as farre be fet,
With willing armes we doe receyue, and most by them we set.
This spitefull custome cast away, and let vs here embrace
Gods blessing sent from hie, and workes of men so full of grace,
Nor mooued be if any thing therein amisse doe seeme,
Or fancie such as ought of vs to be reiected cleene.
What wryter (scriptures here except) could euer yet be found,
That hath not erde in any poynt from doctrine pure and sound:
We all in many things offende, and sundrie things deceaue,
When darkely placde the perfite sense the minde doth not conceaue.
Among these writers here deserues the chiefe and highest seat,
Erasmus, he that learned was in euery science great,
The Iewell of our time, and glorie great of Germanie,
By whome we safely may contende and haue the victorie,
With all the Italians, Spaniards, French, and such as English bee.
In these most learned workes, thou shalt be sure for to attaine,
To knowe whatsoeuer Christians good haue thought, or heathen vaine.
Next unto him let sundrie other good men haue their place,
Shut no man out that taketh paynes to fill the worlde with grace,
What Countrie man soeuer he be, or in what time he liue,
Yea what soeuer name the worlde to him doth vse to giue.
So shalt thou well he furnished, of counsaile learnde and good,
That may declare what needefull is for to be vnderstood,
Of Christ, of fayth, and hope, whereby thou well mayst answere giue
In euery doubt, as one that still about the Lorde doth liue.
Not glistring all with sumptuous plate, nor costly Imageree,
Nor hangde about with Arras rich, nor pleasant Tapestrie.
Let all Th'assirian furnitures, and Phrygian bewtie lie,
Nor seale thy house with Iuory white, nor Marble grauen fine,
Ne let thy walles with painted Tables of Apelles shine,
Nor with Parrhasius costly workes, nor Euphranors beside,
These things are meete for Princes great, and men addict to pride.
[86]
And little wisedome got thereby, not meete for such a kinde
Of men as search for heauenly things, and scriptures doe applie:
And of poore Christ do preach the worde, and doctrine faythfullie.
Dresse vp thy house in comely sort, but not with great expence,
Cleane kept, and swept, perfumed well, with pleasant franconsence,
With berries sweete of Iunyper, or in the Sommer time,
With Lauender, or Uiolets, and Roses sweete and fine,
Or pleasant Lillies white. Sweete smelles the wit doth chiefly feede,
As stinking ayre doth dull the minde, and great diseases breede.
Let large and faire thy studie be, and lightsome euery where,
Farre placde from any filthie smell, no sinke nor dunghill nere,
No lothsome priuie there aboutes, no marshe nor lakes at hande,
Nor filthie vapours that arise from stinking pooles that stande.
Here let thy chiefest goodes appeare, and bookes in number great,
Of sundrie sort, among the which, the best and highest seat
The Bible chalengeth of right, which many yeares agone,
Was written by the holy sprite, and in the tongues eche one,
Wherein it hath bene written here. Of which the chiefest grace
The Hebrue hath, and next to it the Chaldean tongue hath place.
Let not the Greeke translation want, but stand among the rest,
Which seuentie sundrie men did write, at Nilian kings request,
And which the auncient fathers vsde, that Christ of olde did preach,
And with their vertuous wrytings graue, the Christian fayth did teach.
Then let the worthie Doctors all, and famous christian crue,
That long time since haue written bookes, be placde in order due.
And next vnto the Bible, first let Austine haue his place,
Who hath among the writers all, in Latine chiefest grace,
Whose pregnant wit found out the truth, and syfteth all things well,
Whose iudgement in detecting fraude, did others farre excell.
And next to him his auncient friend, let Ierome haue his seat,
Well knowne vnto the world, for skill in tongues, and wisedome great,
Who perfite was in euery arte, and learned science tho,
And was not farre behinde in match to worthie Cicero.
Let Ambrose also there be set, with learned phrase and sweete,
Whose fatherly heart in instructing well, doth teach vs what is meete.
87
Who alwayes doth with stedfast tongue of pure religion treate:
Nor both the Gregories that in the Grecian tongue excell,
Whose glistring beames vnto the world hath erst bene knowne ful wel.
Let Cyprian eke the Martyr here, an handsome place possesse,
And vertuous Basyll, and Chrysostome full of holinesse,
Whose wordes doe like a fountaine flowe, and eke whose worthie wit
For eloquence excelles, amid whose lappas doth Pitho sit.
Let Irenæus haue his place, a famous wryter olde,
Let Origen be placed there, and eke Cyrillus bolde,
And sundrie others mo, that doe in Greeke and Latine write
The names of whome it were to long and tedious to resite.
Take also those that liued next, of lesse antiquitee,
Although for fayth nor vertue they may not compared bee
With those so famous fathers olde, and though they rudely write,
Not hauing eloquence alike, nor cunning to endite.
And to fill vp the number, let in worthie places stande,
Such men as in this age of ours haue set their helping hande,
Whereof thou not a fewe shalt finde, that to these Doctor good
Full neare haue gone, and through the holy ghost haue vnderstood
Such things as fewe before haue knowne, who not inferior bee,
In knowledge tongues and eloquence, and in diuinitee,
Unto those men that wrote of olde, for God hath at this time
Brought forth such glistering beames of light, & causde thē forth to shine,
And wondrous giftes hath delt abrode as no man can denie,
That wisedome hath, for which we are bounde to yeelde continually
Great thankes and prayses to his name, and well to vse them here,
To our behoofe, and profite great, and not for to dispise
Them as the custome is of olde, in shamefull sort and guise,
Wherewith the things that in our daies are found and brought to light,
Though neuer so good, we do contemne with lothsome appetite.
On th'other side, the fashions olde, and such as farre be fet,
With willing armes we doe receyue, and most by them we set.
This spitefull custome cast away, and let vs here embrace
Gods blessing sent from hie, and workes of men so full of grace,
[87]
Or fancie such as ought of vs to be reiected cleene.
What wryter (scriptures here except) could euer yet be found,
That hath not erde in any poynt from doctrine pure and sound:
We all in many things offende, and sundrie things deceaue,
When darkely placde the perfite sense the minde doth not conceaue.
Among these writers here deserues the chiefe and highest seat,
Erasmus, he that learned was in euery science great,
The Iewell of our time, and glorie great of Germanie,
By whome we safely may contende and haue the victorie,
With all the Italians, Spaniards, French, and such as English bee.
In these most learned workes, thou shalt be sure for to attaine,
To knowe whatsoeuer Christians good haue thought, or heathen vaine.
Next unto him let sundrie other good men haue their place,
Shut no man out that taketh paynes to fill the worlde with grace,
What Countrie man soeuer he be, or in what time he liue,
Yea what soeuer name the worlde to him doth vse to giue.
So shalt thou well he furnished, of counsaile learnde and good,
That may declare what needefull is for to be vnderstood,
Of Christ, of fayth, and hope, whereby thou well mayst answere giue
In euery doubt, as one that still about the Lorde doth liue.
Let not the whip of Ierome feare, nor force thee to refraine,
(For in the worlde he vttered hath his dreames and fancies vaine,)
From reading of the heathens workes, and of Philosophie.
Sometime for recreation sake, thy minde a while applie,
In Aristotles bookes to search the sense and phrase obscure,
And whatsoeuer Plato here hath left in writing pure,
Or Plutarch, Euchide, Xenophon, or Ptolomæ the graue,
As touching Mathematicals, or manners written haue.
Let here the Lawyers present be, and also them withall
The Popes decrees, rescriptes, and such as Decretals they call.
A meete and worthie place is due to Poets here of right,
As vnto vertuous mindes, and men inspirde with holy spright.
Let Galen, and Hippocrates be placed neare to thee,
And other famous Doctors that in phisicke skilfull bee.
Let Tullie that excelles in Latine tongue haue here his seat,
The father sweete of eloquence, and guide of dutie great.
Let Plinie, and Demosthenes, and valiant Cæsar hie,
Isocrates, and Seneca, be placed worthylie.
Ioyne here withall in companie the storie writers olde,
Such as haue written liues of men, and actes of Princes tolde
Who able is eche writers name, in verse for to resight?
Who in rehearsall of so great a number would delight?
But such as holde the sacred Plowe, must not be ignorant
Of any Author, but with them be alwayes conuersant.
Learne of the honiemaking Bees, about the Medowes flie,
And sucke the pleasant iuice that doth in euery flowre lie.
Of euery thing are arguments, and reasons to be brought,
Not onely out of bookes, and out of things that nature wrought:
But euen from the handicraftes, of base and vile degree,
That husbandmen may haue no time vnoccupide to bee.
(For in the worlde he vttered hath his dreames and fancies vaine,)
From reading of the heathens workes, and of Philosophie.
Sometime for recreation sake, thy minde a while applie,
In Aristotles bookes to search the sense and phrase obscure,
And whatsoeuer Plato here hath left in writing pure,
Or Plutarch, Euchide, Xenophon, or Ptolomæ the graue,
As touching Mathematicals, or manners written haue.
Let here the Lawyers present be, and also them withall
The Popes decrees, rescriptes, and such as Decretals they call.
A meete and worthie place is due to Poets here of right,
As vnto vertuous mindes, and men inspirde with holy spright.
Let Galen, and Hippocrates be placed neare to thee,
And other famous Doctors that in phisicke skilfull bee.
88
The father sweete of eloquence, and guide of dutie great.
Let Plinie, and Demosthenes, and valiant Cæsar hie,
Isocrates, and Seneca, be placed worthylie.
Ioyne here withall in companie the storie writers olde,
Such as haue written liues of men, and actes of Princes tolde
Who able is eche writers name, in verse for to resight?
Who in rehearsall of so great a number would delight?
But such as holde the sacred Plowe, must not be ignorant
Of any Author, but with them be alwayes conuersant.
Learne of the honiemaking Bees, about the Medowes flie,
And sucke the pleasant iuice that doth in euery flowre lie.
Of euery thing are arguments, and reasons to be brought,
Not onely out of bookes, and out of things that nature wrought:
But euen from the handicraftes, of base and vile degree,
That husbandmen may haue no time vnoccupide to bee.
What should I shew how great a gaine & pleasure hence doth spring:
For first of all assuredly it is a worthie thing
To haue so many learned mates, and sweete companions here,
And such a learned Senate as aboute thee shall appere:
To whome thou mayst for counsell come, in any doubt of thine,
That eyther longs to worldly state, or vnto things deuine.
In silence they remaine, if ought thou wouldst not forth to flie,
And truth is tolde thee plaine, and nothing vttred there by flattrie:
Them shalt thou haue that can their part in weightie matters play,
And such againe as mirth can mooue, and sorrow driue away.
Thus shalt thou willing maisters haue, that present still shall bee,
Who if thou wilt shall teach, if not, they will not trouble thee.
Hereby thou shalt eschue the prease of common people vaine,
Nor pleasure shalt thou take in rude assemblies to remaine.
Thou shalt both spare thy pursse and eares, and keepe a quiet minde,
Nor shalt sustaine the vile reproch of such as be vnkinde.
Nor shalt thou be constraynde to looke vpon thy frowning fo,
Nor driuen for to heare the ribaulds tongue at large to go.
No malice, wrath, nor wretched loue, shall purchase thee disease,
No gates of noble men shut vp from thee shall thee displease,
The doubtfull cases of the lawe shall neuer mooue thy minde,
Nor strife that here in trifles vaine the brawling people finde.
Thou shalt no whit regarde the steps of hie estate to clime,
Nor shalt thou be with Dice vndone, nor cast away with wine,
Thou shalt as in a Paradice, enioy thy libertie,
And walke amongst the flowers sweete of white and purple die.
The worlde thou shalt dispise, and onely ioyes of heauen embrace,
And follow here the doctrine true of Christ in blessed case.
For first of all assuredly it is a worthie thing
To haue so many learned mates, and sweete companions here,
And such a learned Senate as aboute thee shall appere:
To whome thou mayst for counsell come, in any doubt of thine,
That eyther longs to worldly state, or vnto things deuine.
In silence they remaine, if ought thou wouldst not forth to flie,
And truth is tolde thee plaine, and nothing vttred there by flattrie:
Them shalt thou haue that can their part in weightie matters play,
And such againe as mirth can mooue, and sorrow driue away.
Thus shalt thou willing maisters haue, that present still shall bee,
Who if thou wilt shall teach, if not, they will not trouble thee.
Hereby thou shalt eschue the prease of common people vaine,
Nor pleasure shalt thou take in rude assemblies to remaine.
Thou shalt both spare thy pursse and eares, and keepe a quiet minde,
Nor shalt sustaine the vile reproch of such as be vnkinde.
Nor shalt thou be constraynde to looke vpon thy frowning fo,
Nor driuen for to heare the ribaulds tongue at large to go.
No malice, wrath, nor wretched loue, shall purchase thee disease,
No gates of noble men shut vp from thee shall thee displease,
[88]
Nor strife that here in trifles vaine the brawling people finde.
Thou shalt no whit regarde the steps of hie estate to clime,
Nor shalt thou be with Dice vndone, nor cast away with wine,
Thou shalt as in a Paradice, enioy thy libertie,
And walke amongst the flowers sweete of white and purple die.
The worlde thou shalt dispise, and onely ioyes of heauen embrace,
And follow here the doctrine true of Christ in blessed case.
FINIS.
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