University of Virginia Library

The nineth lesson.

Quare de vulua. S. rede it.

Alas from my mothers wombe.
why hast thou brought me out?
I haue liued like a Butchers dogge
and died like al oute.
I stopped myne eares against the truthe,
Gods worde I would not heare:
And hardened my harte against the Prince,
in persone many a yere.
There ledde my life in hartes delite,
my soule did feele no care:
In softe bedde, and choise of wine,
wantyng no daintie fare.
False hope I had to come forthe,
as ones I did before:
But still dispaire, said I should die
and persecute no more.
One morne betime I loked forth,


as ofte as I did before:
And did se a pulpit, in churches wise,
made by my prison dore.
A Preacher there was, that Crowly hight,
whiche preached in that place,
A meane if God had loued me,
to call me then to grace.
Hodie si vocem, was his theme,
and harden not thyne harte:
As did the fathers the rebelles old
that perished in desarte,
Thus protestantes, haue me slain
with the power of the worde:
But if the worlde had serued me,
with fire, and with sworde.
I would haue killed and burned al
more then I did before:
But now farewel you papistes al
from hensforthe euermore.
Would no wight had me knowen
nor eyes me neuer seen:
Then should I haue been in suche sorte,
as I had neuer been.
The Responde.
In die illa tremenda,
Who shall my lorde defenda:
Neither Pe. Wes. Nor. Mar.
Traitors Tempest that blowe vp warre,


Slinge. Hil. nor Swineburne,
Or any traitor, that gape for a tourne.
Thei shall haue horror inhabitans,
God sende them mischaunce.
Omne regnum diuisum. &c.
Against the Quene thei risum,
Per aliam viam reuersi sunt.
Papistes are traitours, as thei are wont.
Rumor super rumorem erit.
Betwene Doncaster and Perith,
Be many Popishe hartes,
Would their heddes wer in carts.
And their bodies in graues:
Rebelles are theues and knaues.
Ardiet pugnas vicio parentum,
The rebelles beyonde Trentham
Shall quickly repentham.
Sepulchrum paten: est venter eorum.
Thei abhorre doctrina Apostolorum
Sepe expugnauerūt you know it wel
Northren stormes are sharp & fell
Snowe, Haile, Ise, and Froste,
All their hope is but loste.
Dies magnæ & amara.
Thei are now in sorow and cara
Thei will neuer haue suche honor
As had this bastarde E. Boner.
Although he were a Po. k.


Yet buried he was in a graue,
Pluet super proditores laquios.

The'nde of Boners Dirige.