University of Virginia Library

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An aunswere at large to a most heretical, trayterous, and papisticall Byll, written in English verse.

The Christian aunswer.

Such thoughtes, such wordes, such men, such deedes
such faith, such fruites appeare:
Such mind, such moode, such harts, such feates
as Papistes shew you heare.
The filthye image of their mindes,
their poisoned tonges bewray:
As Gospell getteth good successe,
and Popery doth decay.
Still spuing out the spirit of spite,
whose loue Gods lawes defies:
Which hate the thing that God doth loue,
and what God doth despise,
That they maintaine against his word,
by Canons of the Pope:
For whose behoofe some haue of late,
bene sensed in a rope.
Because Gods word hath cast a downe,
their Priests of Romish Ball:

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With whom the vice of whoredome is
esteemd no vice at all.
But Mariage (which God hath made
for man to liue well in:
Which also he hath sanctified)
they do condemne as sin.
They spit out spitefull rage at this,
as all men now may see:
For that that Christ doth make hys Church,
from popish bondage free,
His Ministers and Preachers true,
haue libertie no lesse:
Then other men to take them wiues,
as Paule doth well expresse.
But they of Ministers make scorne,
resemblyng Aarons brood:
Though Christ becam the final Priest
by shedding of his blood.
And brought that office to an end,
appointing others iust:
To serue him in his ministrie,
such as his Church might trust.
Not Balams brood of Iudas sect,
not Romish shauelinges sure:
Which vnto vile Sodomitrie,
do all men so alure.
Whose Gotish church is common Stewes,
of Fornication vile:

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In which who seekes Gods lawes to keepe,
can tarie but a while.
But Ministers of Misteries,
no Sacrifice to giue:
But such as seeke by Gods true hestes
most holylye to liue.
Not like to Priestes, but like to men,
so mortified by grace:
That Romish boarish lecherie,
in them can take no place.
Which haue ech one his maried wife,
with bed most vndefiled:
As Paule doth teach, to euery man,
which whoredome hath exiled.
And therefore Popish Sicophant,
that newes doost spread a pace:
That Christian men must vertu leaue
and honestie deface.
All men do see your beastly lyues,
which you were best forsake:
Least that your porcion be full sore,
amydst the firy lake.
You that like double Traitours gaspe
for time of your returne:
And gape for breath, & hope for change
that you the truth might spurne.
How like you this, your knauery is
in euery cost espide:

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You romish Priestes which haue no wyues,
all Christians you deride.
And these be newes for you, take hede,
leaue of, repent, amend:
God hath disclosed your vilanie,
and hastened hath your end.
Now must you leaue the Romish stewes,
and eke your God the Pope:
Or els prepare your selues to wyn,
a gybbet with a rope
Now take you wiues, leaue romish stewes,
and learne to lyue well.
For why adulterous whoremongers,
for aye shall hang in hell.

The Christian aunswer.

Such hart still see, such study bent,
such study, such deuise:
Such thought, such mocion of the mind
such question doth arise.
All Papistes shame at this demaund,
which haue the sparke of grace:
To heare such hainous wordes blowne out,

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from such a shameles face.
When euer was there lesse regard
of chaste lyfe, then was then:
When Dispensatiōs made the Priests
lyue more like beastes, then men?
When euery Priest had not his wyfe,
but many Priestes ten whoores:
When priestly lecherie did defile
their honest neighbours doores.
When neither mayd nor maried wyfe
in honest life could stand:
If shorne shaueling might deuise,
to haue them vnder hand.
When one Priest had two dosen of whoores,
to vse them at his wyll:
And scotfree scapt in Boners dayes,
and kept his liuyng styll.
Then where was care? oh where was grace?
surely they were exiled:
And that made many a virgin then,
by Priestes to be defiled.
Remember well this old prouerbe,
of Shauelings great abuses:
That Priestes & Doues wher euer they come
make very filthy houses.
But beastly man what words be these?
what monstrous hart or minde:
To cast out such inhumaine speeche,

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so far beyond all kinde.
Are Preachers now with you but knaues?
fye Papistes, blush at this:
The Preacher is the Trumpe of God,
this sure is spoke amis.
A lying knaue, a brauling knaue,
a romish knaue more fyt:
But sure thys Epithite thou adst
without reason or wyt.
For Epithites we adde to shew
the nature, force, and kinde:
Of men, of things, and wordes as we
in Rethoricke rules do finde.
But contraries for Epithites,
wyse men do neuer place:
Epithetons of lyke must be,
to shew of wordes the grace.
Preaching a woord of Maiestie,
and Knaue, doo disagree:
Although a Knaue hath ioynd them thus,
from wyt and learning free.
A sclaunderous knaue, a foolish knaue,
a foule malicious knaue:
These Epithites may sound more fyt,
for him that thus doth raue.
Which doth enuy Gods preached word
a blynde erronious elfe:
Which hath with that vile hoore of Rome,

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no dout bewitch him selfe.
Which flattering whoore that Serpentine,
full often hath bene trode:
Whose fruites & brood throughout the world,
are now disperst abrods.
Marke these newes then, ye popish brood,
feare God, repent I say:
Dread Christ, and leaue your trade in time,
least halter be your pay.

The Christian answer.

The lying toung doth slay the soule,
sayth Salomon the wyse:
Shall Papists then escape trow you,
which all delight in lyes?
There is not now a strumpet whoore,
(saith he) in all the land:
Which false reproch from whence it comes,
all men may vnderstand.
Of proposicion false, proceedes
conclusion most vile:
Which Papists sclaūders would maintaine,
but Papist stay a while.

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To many whoores are yet to finde,
if Gods wyll were not so:
Although when Poperie raignd, there were
ten times as many mo.
It is no shame that whores decrease,
but shame it is to see:
All Papists haue such whoorish hartes,
as now appeares in thee.
When Pope bare rule, whoores were mayntaynd
then whoores did much augment:
But now I trust that Christ beares rule,
all whoores wyll soone be spent.
Though Papistes more delight in whoores,
lyke knaues meere bestiall:
Then in the maried Matrons lyfe,
which vertue passeth all.
And though the Pope, and Romish filthes,
in Rome haue open Stewes:
If in Geneua Pope should dwell,
he should heare other newes.
His gotish hart would right soone ake,
there whooredome for to vse:
Their heads there from their shoulders leape
which so them selues abuse.
But Pope receaues the golden rent,
of whooredomes filthy sin:
To decke his crowne, for whoores do bring
him mickle treasure in.

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Geneuian men that there haue seene,
true discipline take place:
Hold Rome sinke of Sodomitrie,
and Papists past all grace.
They seeke no whoore, though Romaines do,
it is their common trade,
As may appeare by such a Knaue,
as this complaynt hath made.
For sure a merry day it was,
when whoores in euery streete:
The Papists might obtaine to haue,
an act adiudged meete.
But since Geneua gaue vs light,
whoores Priests & whoores are fled
And so wyll Papists soone I hope,
when gallowes hath them sped.

The papisticall verse.

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Maister Wyborne, alias tiburne tyke,
here dwelleth in this towne:
Which sought by all the meanes he could,
the Easter to plucke downe.

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But I of hym dare well pronounce,
and tyme the truth shall try:
That he shall trust vnto his heeles,
or els in Smithfield fry.

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Not he, but thousandes of his sect,
must to Geneua seeke:
The wrestlyng of the Gospell wrong,

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preuayles them not a leeke.

The Christian answer.

These be the fruites of Papists blynde,
loe here the hartes of those:
Whose traitrous slaundring tonges do shew
they are profest Gods foes.
Of Sathans seede, which loueth lyes
and sclaunders to blase out:
Against the truth, and Church of God,
I put you out of dout.
Whose eyes do weere, and teeth do gnash?
at sincere Preachers true:
Because they see what good successe,
doth after them ensue.
This Maister VVyborne well is knowne,
thou Papist to thy shame:
(And all the rable of thy rout,)
that seekest him to defame,
To be a man of learning graue,
of iudgement sound and right:
A maryed Minister he is,
of lyuing most vpright.
An orthy Pastor of Gods flocke,
a zealous teacher knowne:
Which hath in deede by studious payne
much popery ouerthrowne.
A modest man and curteous,
of gentle sprite, and milds:

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Who seekes the hurt I dare wel vouch
of neither man nor child.
No sclaunderer is he no dout,
but one that meaneth good:
Yea if it were to such as hee
might know to seeke his blood.
A reuerend man for knowledge sake,
thou doost thy wit abuse:
With such a name hym to reproch,
and so him to misuse.
But what is sclaunder thine, thou foole,
thou trayterous tiburne tike?
The gallowes grones for thee no dout,
the rope will breake thy necke.
For where thou saiest he sought to pull
the Easter downe to ground:
His doctrine tended your abuse
of Easter to confound.
Which feast no dout you much polute,
but he sought to erect,
The simple sincere truth of Christ,
which you do all reiect.
Like Romish Rebels, hopyng styll,
the darkning of thys day:
But first I trust all popish knaues
shall be the gallowes pray.
And where thou sayest thou darst pronounce,
that time the truth shall trye:

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That VVyborne must trust to his heeles,
or els in Smithfielde fry.
This happy time hath tryed in deede,
out truth to your decay:
And to the ruine of your rout,
which hope but for a day.
Your sacke of lies is ransackt now,
your ware appeareth drosse:
You leane vpon a broken staffe,
Gods truth bringes you to losse.
And time hath lent by Gods good grace,
such comfort for the nonce:
That all Gods Preachers shall not neede,
abrode to lay their bones.
Their safegarde sure in England is,
they neede not feare the fier:
Although the Papistes do begin
to hang a litle hyer.
God hath reueald your counsels, fooles,
God hath layd open now
Your traitrous harts, which vnto God
and Queene will neuer bow.
Darst thou pronounce thou traitor hold
that VVyborne hence must flee?
Is neither godly feare at all,
nor Subiectes loue in thee?
What should him moue to step one foote?
your hope is surely spoyld:

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God hath him selfe your poysnous pride
in open battayle foyld.
Shall Smithfield be your shambles yet
Gods Sayntes to kyll and slay?
Stay Papist, packe vp Holburne hill,
for you the fitter way.
Shal VVyborne trust vnto his heeles?
No, VVyborne trust in God:
And Carts shall trusse vp these in time
to Tyburne loade by loade.
Shal thousands packe for feare of you,
thou Traytour, darst thou say:
When thou & thine hast well obtaynd
old Saturnes second day?
There is no cause, God haue the prayse
but thousandes of his sect:
Of other landes that worship Christ
may here them selues protect.
And boldnes more encreaseth still,
through Gods almighty grace:
When traitrous Papists dare not once
to shew their double face.
For euery one that thou doost meete,
thou thynkst wyll thee betray:
Thy wits be breetch, thy braynes all duld:
thy hart hath neuer stay.
If worst should fal, that God for synne,
and for our negligence:

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Should plague vs so to geue you power,
and vs to driue from hence:
God hath that happy Citie made,
Geneua of great fame,
For his poore peoples safe defence,
to shroud them in the same.
But when your Pope shall downe be cast
and hence now you must flee:
Like vacabondes or Foxes whelpes
you know not where to bee.
Your stay is gone, a Papist, fye,
all men do you detest:
He stayes not here, saith euery man,
so you shall haue no rest.
And this is true, the time is come,
Ile tel you truer newes:
Al Papists which haue traitrous harts
and do their Prince refuse,
Must now relent, and turne forthwith,
and true become God knowes:
Or els prepare to geue their flesh,
at once to feede the Crowes.
Or els if that their hartes wyll not,
be true to Princely state:
Get hence to Alba, there lye safe
as Story dyd of late.
And if you get in hys sure court,
God cannot fynde you there:

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Dalba shall keepe Story in store,
his Queene he needes not feare.
Your wresting long of Gods true word
can nothing you preuaile:
Haue done I say, dispatch therefore,
plucke downe your Pecocks tayle.
Downe on your knees you Asses stout,
pray God and Queene for grace:
You can no longer now preuayle,
your practise takes no place.
It bootes you not to Pius now
for mercy for to seeke:
For you be traytours proude at home,
his Bul is not worth a leeke.
Therefore as thousands traitours are,
by thousands all agree:
To turne to God, or els make hast,
to scale the gallow tree.

The Christian answer.

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Goliah brought a sword to field,
which cut his throte in fine:
And wherwith all maist thou be beate,
but with this rod of thine?
The Deuil when he tempted Christ,
in Scripture seemed wyse:
And therefore thou and Papists all,
do Scripture cleane despyse.
An argument right strong no doubt,
Christ was adiudgd to dye:
No iudgement therfore must be vsde,
fye, fye, blinde Papists, fye.
Because the Deuil falsified
the Scripture at his wyll:
The Papists will no Scripture haue,
it doth their market spyll.
But now in earnest we or you,
the truth is tryed or this:
Who haue the Scriptures most abusd
and taken them amis.
You like to Sathan proue I may,
chuse out what serues your turne:
And all the rest that you confoundes,
you do condemne and burne.
We for truthes sake true scripture vse
you wrest with staring eyes:
All our tormoile for IESVS CHRIST,
but yours for popish lyes.

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Therefore to you I say packe hence,
your glosing will not stand:
Go practise now your poperie
out of our Christian land.
Your whispering, your priuie prates,
lyke Knaues where as you lye:
Preuailes no more in Christian eares,
it is not worth a Flye.
Your fained fables false are found,
your tales of little Iohn:
Your pagents playd of Robin Hood,
are knowne to euery one.
And wher thou bidst them to commit,
their Bastards to the bag:
All men do see how on your part,
the world now doth wag.
God be the iudge twixt time and time,
when Bastards hye did sit:
Your Popes own Bastards, for whom sure
the gallowes was more fit.
Bastards of Bishops, ye Cardinals brood,
Priests Bastards euery where:
The Votaries compilde by Bale,
can tell you then and there.
Commit remembrance to your harts,
you Papists yet in time:
And hye you from your Romish waies,
yet do forsake your crime.

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Bid Basans Buls, and Bastards theirs
hye hence and get the bag:
Their pompe decays, & on their partes
the world will not wag.
Bid Pope come downe that sits so hye
aboue all Princes thrones:
And set his hands to hold the plough,
these newes are for the nonce.
And if his traiterous idle bones,
will not so fadge to worke:
Let him go get into the field,
and sue to serue the Turke.
If that him not will satisfie,
now that he is downe cast:
Let him go learne to clout old shoes,
and that in all the hast.
For his reuenewes will bee spent,
to begging he must trudge:
Or els go learne to be hangde,
full like the Deuils drudge.

The Christian answer.

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The Papist.

FINIS. quoth Non est inuentus.

The answer.

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Non est inuentus made this
sclaunder so bolde,
But Est inuentus tooke in
hand it to vnfold.
Veritas non quærit angulos,
Shew thy face:
Non audeo dixit, for my
deedes deserue no grace.
Tunc desine, Thou Foole,
leaue of thy works, dispatch
Aut prode mendax That
straight the gallowes may thee catch.