The rewarde of Wickednesse :: :: University of Virginia Library

The rewarde of Wickednesse

Discoursing the sundrye monstrous abuses of wicked and vngodlye worldelinges: in such sort set downe and written as the same haue beene dyuersely practised in the persones of Popes, Harlots, Proude Princes, Tyrauntes, Romish Byshoppes, and others. With a liuely description of their seuerall falles and finall destruction. Uerye profitable for all sorte of estates to reade and looke vpon. Nevvly compiled by Richard Robinson

Robinson, Richard

[section]

[dedication]

The Aucthour to the Booke.

The Booke to the Aucthour.

Richard Smith in praise of the Aucthor.

The Prologue.

The rewarde of wickednesse.

Collapse All | Expand All expand section

A dreame most pitiful, and to be dreaded

Of thinges that be straunge,
VVho loueth to reede:
In this Booke let him raunge,
His fancie to feede.

To the Worshipfull, Gilbert Talbote, Esquier, Seconde Sonne to the Right Honourable Earle of Shrowsburie. &c. Richard Robinson VVisheth the feruent feare of God, Increase of Vertue, VVorship and Honour, vvith Good successe, and many Ioyful yeares.

The Aucthour to the Booke.

Thy woefull plaints, thy rueful face, and carefull countenaunce shoe,
To all the worlde: bee not tonguetide, reueale abroade the woe
That is among the sillie soules, in Plutos ouglie lake,
For vvickednesse done on the Earth, howe Ioue doth vengeance take.
Blushe not my booke, to thunder foorth, the tormentes thou hast seene,
Tell vvilfull vvits, and hatefull hearts, vvhat iust deserued teene:
In Plutos pitte they shall abide, that headlong plunge in sinne,
Bee not abashte to tell the best, vvhat plagues be there within.
And whome thou sawe in sincke of sorrow, bewaile and toile in griefe,
VVhy and vvherefore, for whome, and what, they bide in this mischiefe.
And vvhy thou mournest, tell the cause, and vvherefore thou art sad,
No doubt thy teares, and trauaile both, may thousands make full glad,
Except the Cobler gin tó carpe, that alwaies loues to cauell,
Or secte of Sicophants stur vp, (Zoilus) that drunken Iauel.
To stampe and scorne against thy talke, that thou art chargde vvithall,
For to rewarde thy sugered gift, vvith bitter stinking gall.
(But if they doe) no force, no harme, their vvonted vse is knowen,
The difference both of them, (and thee) Report hath iustly blowen.
And doubte not but the learned loue, thy company to haue,
And hissing Hidras venimde stinge, shall daylie from thee saue.
And vvhen the skilfull heades shall scan, the tale that thou must tell,
I charge thee, pardon craue of them, it doth become thee vvell.
And if they doe demaunde, from vvhence thou came, or whats thy name,
The Iust reward of wickednesse, my Lords J am the same,
(Saye thou) vvhich came from Plutos Pit, whom Morpheus led with him,
In drowsie Dreame, to see the soules, Rewarded there for sinne.
VVhich sightes, so rare and seldome seene, as in my dreame I see,
Good Lords, and Ladies, vvith the rest, shall straight reuealed bee.
And doing dutie, thus no doubte, but thou shalt bee imbraste,
Of suche as doe of honour, or of vertuous learning taste.

FINIS.

Quoth Richard Robinson.

The Booke to the Aucthour.

And must I needes be packing hence, about such newes to beare,
VVhich shalbe to the most, these daies, an inward griefe to heare?
VVhy knowst thou not, that worldlings wish, to dwel on earth for aie,
And may not bide, but them abhorre, which saye they must awaye?
Howe shall I scape the cruell Iudge, that is corrupt with golde,
Or craftie Carles and Muckscrapes now, that al from poore men hold?
The Tyrant he will whet his blade, the prowde will present puffe,
The wanton Dames will skould at mee, the Roister strange wil snuffe.
Piers Pickthanke and Tom teltale, will deuise a thousand waies
Tibbe Tittiuilly, that lowring Lasse, some yll on mee wil raise.
VVhoremongers, they and al their mates, I doubt wil stone me straight,
Flatterers, Filchers, and Sclanderers both, I looke but when they sight.
Rent Rackers, that doe fleece the poore, and Baillifes false vntrue,
VVith bragging Officers forgetting God, that Conscience bid adue.
Murder, Treason, Theft and Guile, maye not abide my face,
The greatest number at these daies, will hurt mee in eache place,
And lustie Youth, starke stamping mad, wilbe to heare these newes.
VVherfore I greeue these Dreames to tel, ifte were in me to choose,
Thinkst thou theyle credite Dreames these daies, that Christ wil scarce beleeue?
No, no, I doubt it ouermuch: then blame not mee to greeue.
But had thou pende some pleasaunt songes, of Uenus smiling boye,
I not mistrust but almost all, would clappe their handes for Ioye.
Or any thing, but that which doth, reprooue mens filthy vice,
No doubt among the most, it would haue beene of greatest Price.
But speede, as speede maye, abroade I will attempte in haste,
Eyther of thankes, or else rebukes, the tone or tother taste.
The vertuous sorte I not mistrust, the wicked here I warne,
The wise in christ, wil thanke me much, the foole wil laugh me scorne.
And now the paines & plagues below, where Charon rowes the barge,
As Thaucthour hath commaunded mee, I shall declare at large.
And if I chaunse to speake amisse, thy pardon here I craue,
Repentaunce at the sinners hande, Is all Christ seekes to haue.

FINIS

Richard Smith in praise of the Aucthor.

Ye Muses all of Thespyas, with sacred Songes that sing,
Novv staie your steppes geue eare a while, and harke what newes I bring.
Your Sonne that lately did indite with sacred siluer quill,
Jn Forest here is fled awaye, vnto Pernassus hill.
VVhere hee among the Muses there, and Ladies of great Fame,
Contrites the time both daye and night, in seruice of the same.
Beholding of these Goddesse face, with bewtie shining bright:
Like to Diana with her traine, Resplendishing by night.
Ambrosia is his foode, sweete Nectar is his drinke,
VVhat pleasures are not reaped there, that mortall heart can thinke?
I doe him deeme in deede, to bee sir Orpheus Fere,
VVho made the stones to vnderstande, and senceles Trees to heare.
The sauage Beastes of sundrye kinde, came thrusting in a throng,
And went out of the vvilsome woodes, to heare his sacred song.
Suche grace the Muses geue to some, for to delight the eare,
And to allure the mortall mindes, enchaunted as it were.
A Diamonde for daintie Dames: For Peeres a precious Pearle,
This Robinson the Rubi red, a Iewell for an Earle.
Suche Pearle can not bee bought J knowe, for all the Golde in Cheape,
The graces heare haue powrd their giftes togeather on an heape.
Suche giftes can not bee graft no doubt, vvithout some power deuine:
Suche cunning hyd in one mans head, as Robinson in thine.
If I might vewe thy pleasaunt Poemes, and Sonettes that excell,
Then shoulde I not thirst for the floodes of Aganippes vvell.
Thou profered prise at Olimpias, and gotte the chiefest game,
And through the schoole of cunning skill, hast scalde the house of Fame.
VVhere thou on stage alone, dost stande Triumphantlye,
About thy head a Garlande gaye, of liuelye Laurel Tree.
VVhich that these Noble Nimphes thought good for blasing theyr renowme,
In token of this learned Lore, adorned vvith that Crowne.
If J should penne this praise, as thou doest vvell deserue.
It vvere a volume for to make, and time it vvould not serue.
For vvhat needes vvater to bee brought, to powre into the Seas,
Or vvhy doe J vvith Penne contend about this Robins praise?
VVhome trumpe of truth hath blowen abroade, that hilles and Dales resoundes,
VVith Eccoes from the earth below, vp to the skie reboundes.

FINIS.

Quoth Richard Smith, Clarke.

The Prologue.

In December when daies be short and colde,
And irkesome nights amid the storms gan rore,
That flockes from feeldes forsake their folde,
And Birdes from swelling floodes do shrinke to shore,
The plowgh doth rest that cut the soyle of yore.
And toyling Oxe in cabin close doth stande,
That wonted was to trauayle painefull lande:

And when the hawtie hilles and ragged rockes,
In mantels white be clothed rounde aboute:
VVhen foules and beastes, as well by heardes as flockes,
Seekes smoking springes, hote thirst to dowte,
VVhose flames doth force the frosen banckes throughout,
To yeelde their flintish ribbes, to gushing floods of raine,
And locked streames at large to set againe:

VVhen euerie Tree the ardent coulors lost,
And braue depainted lookes of fragrant smelles,
VVhen bragging Boreas thus the soyle had tost,
That Hart and Hinde did quake in fieldes and felles,
VVith Bull and Beare for colde both cries and yelles.
And shrowling makes eche thing that life doth beare,
To stande with shaking limmes, the stormes to heare.

On eyther side the hilles when blastes doe rise,
As sharpe as thornes the naked skinne doth hit,
And Saturne to the earth doth shewe his frosen eyes,
VVhose wrath doth pinch eache creature to the quicke,
VVhich oft doth cause both young and olde fall sicke,
VVith cough, and colde, and stopping rheumes also,
Quotidians, feuers, diseases many mo:

And when Eolus his prison had vnlocken,
And all the retchlesse route let runne at large

VVhose russhing rage eache pleasant braūch hath broken
VVhereof before Dame Flora had the charge,
On Tiber stirreth neyther boate nor Barge.
Trytan soundes his trump, and Neptune gins to frowne,
The sayler strikes from mast the sayles a downe.

VVhen young and olde their bones with cloth doe loade,
And hoodes vnto their heades doe buckle fast:
And when the Boye doth rest that bare the goade,
And keepes the chimneyes ende til Hyemps storms be past,
VVhen men doe doubt their winter stuffe to last,
And carefull cattell with open Iawe doth craue,
Their keepers meate their carkas for to saue.

VVhen men delight to keepe the fire side.
And winter tales incline their cares to heare,
VVhen mery mates be met, that will abide,
Eache filles his pot of Nutbrowne Ale or Bere,
As is the trade of Ale knightes euery where,
To tosse the pottes and plye the flitting boules,
Then pay their pence, and packe with dronken noules.

In this season it was my lotte to fall,
Among a masque chosen for the nonce,
Some reelde, some fell, some helde them by the wall,
Some sang, some chid, and sware gogs precious bones,
(Quoth one to me) friende camst thou from saint Jones?
what penaunce hast thou done, thou art so leane & pale?
No force (quoth another) he shall fyll his pot of Ale.

Content (quoth I) and thereto I agree,
Fyll pot Hostice of Pery, Ale, or Bere:
My heade it recreated after studie,
To shut foorth the time, though rusticall they were,
Thus walkt tho Kanikin both here and there,
Till the wife cryed to bed for sauing of hir fire,
Contented (quoth I) for that was my desire.

The shot was gathered, and the fyre rakte vp,
Eache man to his lodging began for to draw:
Some stackering stumbled as mad as a Tup,
Some crept vnder the mattresse into the strawe.
Another sort began to pleade the common lawe.
I lookt about and sawe them so dight,
Put out the candle and bad them goodnight.

My drowzie heart thus being at his rest,
Tooke no care for the colde, all sorrowes were past:
So late it had beene at the good Ale feast,
That the worlde for euer I thought woulde last.
In mine eare thunders no sounde of winters blast.
I thought none yll, my heade was layde full saft,
All carke and care my wandring sprite had laft.

Not lying thus one houre by the clocke,
Me thought the chamber shone with Torches bright,
And in the haste at doore I hearde one knocke,
(And sayde what) Slugge, why sleepest all the night?
I starting vp behelde one in my sight,
Dasht all in golden raies, before me did appeare,
(And sayde) I am a God, beholde that standeth here.

Mine eares were filde, with noyse of Trumpets sounde,
And dazled were mine eies, my sence was almost gon,
But yet amazde my knee vaylde to the grounde,
And sayde heare Lorde, thy will and mine be one,
VVhat is thy minde, more redie there is none,
To ride to runne, to trauell here and there,
By lande and seas halfe worthie if I were.

But first to know thy name I humbly thee beseeche,
Forgiue my rudenesse this of thee to craue,
He aunswering sayd, with meeke and lowlie speeche,
Morpheus is my name, that alwaies power haue,
Dreames to shewe in Countrie, Courte, or Caue.

In the heauens aboue, or Plutoes kingdome loe,
Its I that haue the power each thing t'unfolde and shoe.

And knowe (quoth he) that euerie night and daye,
VVho shutteth vp his eyes, his heade to feede with sleepe,
His wandering spirite attendes on me alwaye,
To trudge and trauell, where I shall thinke it meete,
As well to mounte the skies, as in the secrets deepe,
As swifte as thought, what God hath greater poure,
Then all that is or was, to shewe thee in an houre?

And whether wilt I goe, Lorde Morpheus (quoth I)
I here am prest thy will for to obey.
VVith an earnest lookes (quoth hee) I will that by and by,
To Plutoes kingdome with mee thou take thy waye.
Though frayde I were, I durst not well say naye.
VVith him I went that irkesome place to see,
VVhere wofull sprites full sore tormented bee.

And going by the way these wordes he sayde,
Be of good cheare, me thinkes thou lookest pale,
Plucke vp thy hearte and be no deale afrayde,
Although thou goe into this ouglie vale.
And thus or he had fynisht halfe his tale,
Cerberus barckt that griselie hounde of hell,
The earth did quake to heare him houle and yell.

VVhen Morpheus hearde this cruell barcking Curre.
For Mercuries rodde he sende with all the hast,
This wondering porter charmde he might not sturre,
Till hee and I throughout his offyce past,
So to the seconde warde wee came at last.
VVhere VVrath kept the walles, and Enuie the gates,
Associate with Pride and vvhoredome their mates.

VVith cruell countinaunce terrible to see,
These horrible officers fixed their eyes,

Filthie to beholde monstrous and ouglie,
They gathered to the gates like swarmes of Bees,
Gnashing their teeth, asking who were these,
That durst be so bolde Plutos kingdome to enter.
Or within their office so rudelie to venter.

I am Morpheus (quoth hee) mine auctoritie you knowe,
As well in the heauens as also here,
My nature and qualitie is dreames for to showe,
Therefore giue place, and let me come neere.
These wordes scarce saide, but the gates opened were.
So to the thirde warde we came by and by,
Not far from that place where great Pluto did lye.

The warde as I saide where Pluto then lay,
VVas fortefied with Tirauntes for the nonce,
Some crying, sware yea, and other some nay,
Renting eche others flesh from the bones,
Some flang fierbrandes, and other some flang stoanes.
VVith howling and crying terrible to heare,
VVhat plague could be thought that was not presēt there?

The chiefe Captaines of all this rablous route,

The greatest vices on earth be chiefe Captaines in Hell.

VVere Oppression of the poore and eake Priuate gaine,
VVith a sorte of their kinne that looked full stoute,
That in that vale for euer must remaine.
There was Peter Pickethanke and Priuie disdaine,
Tom Teltale was appointed in a Turret to watche,
Laurence Lurcher a Baylife to snatche and to catche.

There was Darckenesse and Ignoraunce linckt in a chaine,

Let us abhorre these vices and cruell crimes.

VVith Errour and Freevvill, Arrogance, and Selfelooue,
Forgetfulnesse of God, and Transgression did remaine,
VVith Mistrust and Supersticion, which might not remoue
Hipocrisie the King in a turret aboue.
VVith Lucre, Cruelnesse, and Bludshed his brother,
Domination, and Fulnesse, Abundaunce, and other.

Pompe he sat puffing as though he were madde,
Symony vnder hande began to conuaye,

Confusion doth deuour wickednesse.

Iniquitie and Sophistrie, with countenaunce full sadde,
Sat with Murther, and Tyranny cursing the daye,
Certainelie to see it was a tragicall playe,
To beholde abhomination, what torments she had,
(with the rest) whereat Confusion was glad.

Many thousandes there were that I omit,
For want of time fullie to describe,
To tell truth the number passeth skill and wit,
To be namde of mee, that howled there and cryde.
VVhen these lothsome leyds, had Morpheus espyde,
They flew on heapes to know from whence he came,
VVho aunswered thus I am a God no man.

And whats thy name (quoth they) Morpheus aunswered he
VVhome Pluto doth admire, and honor both I trowe,
And Proserpine your Queene, mightie though they bee,
And Mynos your Judge will doe the same I knowe.
I am the God that alwayes dreames doth show.
I am free this waye to guide and leade eache man,
without demaunde to knowe from whence I came.

Then vp start Peter Picketbanke by and by,
These newes to Pluto in haste he ran to tell,
And almost madde, with open Iawes gan crye,
My Lorde (quoth hee) thers straungers come to hell,
VVhat else (quoth Pluto) is not all thinges well?
Yea Sir (quoth hee) its Morpheus that is here,
Then Pluto aunsvvered, why bidst him not come neere?

The thirde warde opened then at large,
The Pallace then approching in our sight,
VVhere raging furies of wofull soules had charge,
To torment thousande wayes, both daye and night,
Miserable darckenesse there was without light,

Grasping and groping, greate discorde and strife,
VVeeping and wayling, and blasphemous life.

The stinking smoke that from that dongeon rose,
Corrupts the skies, and clowdeth all with shade,
The thundering blast that from that furnesse blose,
A dubble paine, the sillie sprites hath made.
VVith rufull plaintes to heare in euerie glade.
That if the sorrowes halfe were pende I see,
In teares there woulde be drowned manie an eye.

But when we came this ouglie God before,
Hayle (quoth Morpheus) thou God of darckenesse great,
Hayle Proserpina here Queene for euermore,
Long may thou holde thy place and seate,
I am come (quoth hee) my custome for to pleate,
Thou knowest of olde that woont I am to see,
As well thy kingdome, as mightie Ioues on hie.

By Styx (quoth hee) thy auncient custome olde,
I will not breake, but as thou hast before,
In all my regiment, I will thou shalt be bolde.
To doe all thinges as thou wast woont of yore,
But looke of mee thou seeme to craue no more.
Except you two, who is my gates within,
To pray for pardon it profytes not a pin.

Then aunswered Morpheus I neuer thought to craue,
The pardon of the prowdst that in thy soyle dōth rest,
Nor yet the greedie Tyraunt toombde in grieslie graue.
Nor any such that pooremen hath opprest.
For gylefull gluttons to speake I thought it least.
All these with other mo, I know must staye with thee,
Howe wickednesse rewarded is thats all I wish to see.

Content (quoth Pluto) and commaundment he gaue,
To all his offycers his kingdome through,

That Morpheus and I shoulde licence then haue,
Eache place for to searche in Hill, Dale, and Clowgh,
In thicke or in thin, in smooth or in rough,
In hote or in colde where euer it bee,
The wickeds rewarde we shoulde both heare and see.

This saide, we departed from that filthie puddle,
And foorth wee past, the left side that caue,
VVhere wee founde a greater and crueller trouble,
Then all this while I knewe any to haue,
For one among manie we hearde raile and raue.
VVith a wofull voice: me thought it saide this,
Come see alas the rewarde of wickednesse.

At length to the place we chaunst for to hit,
VVhere Alecto had charge to rule and dispose,
There we behelde one lying in a pit,
Sodden in sorrowes from the toppe to the toes.
Their paines for to painte in meeter or prose,
Doth passe my skill, the least to describe,
Though Tessiphon hir selfe my pen now shoulde guide.

But what I sawe in this my drowsie dreame;
And who they were as now to minde I call,
VVhy and wherefore to you I shall proclaime,
That thus they lost the ioyes supernall,
And haue possest the wofull place infernall.
Lende me your eares for now my tale beginnes,
How wicked wightes rewarded be for sinnes.

FINIS.

The rewarde of wickednesse.

HELLEN tormented for her treason to her Husbande, and liuing in fornication ten yeares, whose wordes followe.

O foulest fuery, that raging hell doth guide,
O worse then wrath, or endlesse wicked life
O swarming plages, yt passeth flesh to bide,
O doubtful dome of Plutos broiling strife.
O Stigion spew thy flames to ende this life.
O iust rewarde I saye, of wicked deedes:
O greatest mischiefe, among these paddels rife,
O come make haste, you flames of glowing gleedes.

You Gods that sit in seates of passing blisse,
whose Ioyes my endles paines surmounteth farre:
Doe you consent for to rewarde mee this,
that whylome was in Greece, the Lampe, and Starre?
What meant you first to make and then to marre?
I am the worke of all your whole consentes:
No brute nor fame, of Earthly woman barre,
woe worth my fate, full sore it mee repentes

O worthye Dames, lende mee your listening eares,
refraine your Citherons, and pleasaunt Lutes also:
With Virginalles, delighting many eares,
from out your heartes, let thought of Musicke goe.
Perhaps you daine, that I shall will you so,
but meruaile not, ne at my wordes take scorne:
It is your partes though you were ten times moe,
to helpe my plainte, with teares that I was borne.

Caste of your Golden Rayes, and ritche attyre,
put on the mourners weedes, seeme to lament:
Hide your painted faces, that sette mens heartes on fire,
learne this of mee, your bewtye soone is spent.

You maye by mee your wicked liues lament,
from spowting Conduites let gushe the floods of feares
Let scalding sighes from broyled heartes be sent,
your iust rewarde for wickednesse appeares.

Although it doth abashe eache daintye Dame
to reade of mee, or yet to heare mee read:
I am the marke for you to shun like shame,
disdaine me not though hygh you beare your head.
You that of Husbandes all this while bee sped,
bee true to them in all your conuersation:
Beware take heede, defile no time theyr bed,
among the Gods it's great abhomination.

I was in bewtye passing all the rest,
and so by nature as curious made and wrought:
That if in mee there had beene grace possest,
to match the Gods I might haue well beene thought.

Uertue is the beautie of man and woman.

But vertue is the bewtye, Ladies all,
and not your painted faces and shining glee:
No greater mischeefe can among you fall,
then for to feede your ficle prophane eye.

For once I had my selfe such prophane lookes,
twirlde out with eyes that were celestiall like,
Whose sparckling twinche were sharper then the hookes,
cast in the streame with baite for Fishe to bite.
A thing immortall seemed I to bee,
but yet corrupt with maners that were nought,
As painted Tombes, with bones bee inwarde filthy:
so outward I, but inwarde vices wrought.

And to her selfe bewayling thus alas,
in eyther hande an Ore, shee laboureth sore:
At length shee was espide where I and Morpheus was,
then calde shee vs that stoode vpon the shore.

Come neare good Morpheus, straight shee gan to rore,
thou seest my paines, thou knowst not yet my name:
In Stigion lake I bide for euermore,
the wife of Menelaus I am the verye same.

And Hellen loe I am that heare abide,
within this ryuen Boate, inuironde as you see:
As iust reward for fleshlye lust and pride,
which scapeth not, but heare rewarded bee.
Many a worthy wight lost his life for mee,
and dyed all berayde and slorried all in blood:
Therefore I praye thee yet come neare and see,
the tormentes I abide within this hellishe flood.

Alas vneth my hande can holde the pen,
my sight deuoured is with greeuous teares,
When I but thinke howe that I sawe her then.
that once did leade the crewe of Uenus peares,
No honest heart but it would rewe her state.
that hearde and sawe as much as wee that tide:
But all alas to greeue it is to late,
the Gods ordeine that shee shall there abyde

Amid a Sea that boyleth fierye floods,
with mixed blood flyes vp and downe the Skies,
Where lurking Rockes with hautie dreadfull muds
on euerye side appeared in our eyes.
About the which moste venemous serpentes flyes,
huge storming blastes this wicked streame doth moue:
What sparkes of gleides rise vp like swarmes of Bees,

A description of the place where shee roweth in a riuen Boate in Stigion

and furies fell theyr wicked partes doe prooue.

For in a Boate berent on euerye side,
(and as I sayde) shee sittes, in euery hand an Ore:
And striueth styll betweene the winde and Tyde,
nowe haling from the Rockes, and by & by from shore.

The choyse is harde, when this refuge is best,
to toyle amid these flaming fluddes as shee:
Or else t'ariue amid the Serpentes nest,
for on the lande with blades the Tyrantes bee.

Which rounde about this plaguie Stigion pit,
in battaile raye and armour blacke doe stande:
Cut throtes, as egar as any Fishe of byt,
that alwayes watche to see her come to lande.
Eache Butcher holdes a mortall Axe in hande,
for to reuenge the blood shee caused shed:
The which for truth, when as I vewde and scande,
with heapes of woe, to Morpheus thus I saide.

Alas (quoth I) this greeues mee most of all.

The Gods haue no respect of persons.

to see her fate, whose bewtye Clarkes commende:
Mee thinke the Gods that sit in seates supernall,
some mercye should at length and pitye sende.
Eache one (quoth Morpheus) who seemeth to offende,
according to theyr deedes without respect
Haue here rewarde for wickednesse in t'hende,
as pleaseth Pluto, or whome hee hath elect.

The one fornicator destroyeth the other experience telleth.

And as these wordes were sayde, wee hearde hir crye,
(O Paris, Paris,) for euermore woe bee the time
Thy faigning face, it was my chaunse to spye,
or that it was thy lucke to looke on mine.
Thou steynde my name, alas so did I thine,
my mischiefe hit by thee, by mee the like thou had:
O wicked Hellen, this all men maye define,
And Paris for thy part, thy fortune was as bad.

What mischiefe doth not a wicked woman breede?

O worthye Troye, happye had thou binne.
if sleepie Nurse had strangled mee in bed:
Then bloodye mischiefe had scaped all my kinne,
and noble Hector had neuer lost his head.

Many a worthy man had liude, that nowe is dead,
Troy had florisht still, whose walles are sact full loe:
Menelaus had neuer yet polluted bed,
and if the Gods my death had poynted so.

All Greece vnto this daye, doth curse the time,

An yll bargaine wher no man winnes &c.

with many a famous Prince of noble birth.
So Paris, thou art likewise curst of thine,
for thou and I were troubles to the earth.
Alas therefore nowe chaunged is our mirth,

It is an old prouerb take heede is a fayre thing.

the bloodshed in our cause doth vengeaunce crye:
Therefore take heede you Dames of mightye birth,
to t'hende of all beginninges, euer cast your eye.

For, had I neuer painted vp my face,
nor shot the boultes of wanton whirling eyes:
Had grace and vertue dwelled in that place,
then had I saued al the liues of these.
For when a man the lookes of women sees,
hee lyeth at watche, to see her cast the darte:
Hit whome it happes, (hee is no man that flees,)
then blame him not, that doeth defende his part.

For thou alas good Paris not to blame,
(nor none but I) that cast my secreate lookes
So sleightfullye, to tyse thee with the same,

Olde pleasures brede newe sorrowes.

before the Gods I wisht none other bookes.
I caste him sugred baites, I catche on bitter hookes,
or else the suite had Paris neuer take:
I layde him letters, in secreate holes and noukes,
for to attempte the venture for my sake.

And what was hee that would not take in hande,

Wickednes destroyeth it selfe.

to hassarde all, at that time for my sake,
Whose matche on earth, did neuer goe nor stande,
then blame him not suche enterprise to make?

O Ladies bee wittye, and quietnesse make,
and dread the Gods you worthy Grecian Dames:
For here shee lyes within this flaming lake,
bewrapt in woe, to quite her youthfull games.

My Pageant though I playde in open sight,
and that the world did manifestly knowe:
I woulde not wishe that you by secreate night,
or closer craft should vse your Husbandes so.
The Gods aboue all sleightye secreates showe,
to euerye eare and eye, bee straight reuealde:
You heare it read in Scripture long agoe,
that naughtye actes were neuer yet concealde.

A sinne & a shame before the Gods and men also.

And then when Fame hath sounded vp hir trumps,
and publisht all your deedes and filthy life:
Then shall confusion put you to your Iumpes,
your Husbandes shall disdaine to call you wife,
Your friendes shall blushe to heare you namde,
your foes reioyce in euery coast about:
To call you mothers, Children are ashamde,
loe this besure, it euer falleth out.

And finallye the Gods from ioye and blisse,
shall cast you into Stigion lake to frye:
As pleaseth Pluto so your sorrowes is,
marke well my wordes, I doe alleadge no lye.
And then it is to late for to repent or crye,
your woefull Scrikes reioyseth hell to heare:
(As for my parte) vnhappye wretche I trye,
whose iuste reward thou seeist plaine appeare.

Marke you worthye Matrones the counsel of wofull Hellen

When fowlest thought of treason to your mates,
shall pricke your fickle mindes as some it doth:
Yet let this one thing pearce your peeuishe pates,
that like the slippie yse so glideth from ye youth.

And sith there is nothing of greater truth,
through lewdenesse lose not then your noble names
Bee most assured, mischiefe streight insuth,
alas therefore, take heede you worthy Dames.

And scorne no deale, my rewfull plaintes to heare,
if hap bee on your sides, I maye such warning bee
To euerye one that is possest with feare,
that by my fate like daunger for to flee.
Therefore as ofte as follye feedes your eye,
spende time in reading bookes, that worthy Clarks haue pende:
In steede of Lutes and other harmonie,
your willing eares a while to learning lende.

So Cupid and his Lore you shall forget,

The vertuous and godlye Wiues be {shrinde} among the Gods for euer.

with all such driftes as he and his doe driue:
Of sclaunder and reproche you shall escape the net,
and Fame with golden trumpe shal sound your vertuous liue.
Thus winning noble name, your liues shall end,
so vertuouslye that after vitall breath,
The Gods theyr Aungels for your spirite shall sende,
to dwell with them in blisse, thus Scripture sayth.

And with these wordes cast almost on the shore,
the woefull wretch with toyled wearye bones,
With all the haste in flood doth laye the Ore,
that headlong Boate and all, doth flee attonce.
Where hissing Serpentes swarme as thicke as haile,
that likewise wayted in theyr subtile kinde
With whetted stinges this Lady to assaile,
for to rewarde her lothsome lustfull minde.

And as wee did perceyue shee wisht that we,
to euery worthy wight report should make,
Howe fornicatours in hell rewarded bee,
and howe the Gods vppon them vengeaunce take.

For straight alas amid that ouglye lake,
her hande shee putteth vp, and bad farewell:
Thus endles paines her former talke gan slake,
more newes of her, I am not able to tell.

For why, the hissing of the wicked wormes,
with some of surging lakes, that rores against the rocks
And furious thondering flames, that boiles and brommes,
beside the fowles of many filthye flockes,
On Helmettes, Billes, yeelde many mortall knockes,
with thumping of the Cannons cruell shottes:
The noyse of Chaines, and wrenche of bandes and locks,
with smorid smoke, of boyling Pitche in Pottes.

The Innocentes blood shed wilfullye, craueth vengeaunce.

As fearefull daunse of Chimneys builded hye,
and fall of Turrets, that sleyeth man and childe:
With widowes, whose fatherles children doe crye,
theyr plaintes alas, all Ioye of hope exilde.
To heare them grone, whome mortall weapon spoilde,
with crashe of staues, that then in peeces flowe:
A voyce cryed vengeaunce (on them that were defilde
with spilling guiltlesse blood) that might not doe thereto.

Another voyce, went hurling vp and downe,
woe, woe, to such as strife sturre vp or brewe:

A voyce.

And specially by warres, to sacke both Citie and Towne,
laye waste the soyle and ploughe, where Oxen drewe.
From mirthe to mourning, all to chaunge a newe,
wiues and children, spoilde before eache others face:
The causers euer, the first them selues that rewe,
and woe still bee to you, that haue so litle grace.

These soundes of sorrowes, that rose so many waies,
de vs Hellen, poore wretche in flaming Seas.

FINIS.

The Bookes verdite vpon Hellen.

Who hearde me tell this tale, that doth their eies witholde,
Or that their collours doth not pale, to heare it read or tolde?
Is any heart so harde, that woulde not melt to heere?
You Ladies doe you not regarde, the fall of bewties peere?
And haue you locked vp, salt flooddes within your eyes?
VVhy haue you kist Medusas cup? Your heartes why doe they frees?
Hath Lethea Lake bewicht all you that liuing be?
Nor hath not pittie neuer twicht your heartes to mourne with me?
Perhappes you doe disdaine to heare such tydings tolde:
But yet you may be glad againe, I saye both young and olde.
Vlisses wife doth loase no fame nor honour here:
No, No, nor any one of those, that liue in godlie fere.
Nor yet the good Alcest, doth catch no blotte nor staine:
Nor Griseld doth not loase the least of Hippos happie gaine.
I am assured this, that Cleopatra winnes
Through Fame a triple blisse, loe now my tale beginnes.
For Creseid she is one, whose face may blush to heare,
Of Hellens life, that now is gon, vngracious Circes peere.
In bewtie Venus matche, Arcynos worse by mutche:
Medeas sleyghtes shee had to catch, whome pleased me to towche.
I say its such as these, that Synons shiftes doe vse:
And vertuous studies seeme to lese, on wanton toyes to muse.
I meane such retchelesse dames, that play Sylenos part:
To winne such merry pleasaunt games, as teache sir Cupids art.
Loe these are they and such, that ought with shamefaste looke,
To be abasht when they shall touche, or vew this simple booke.
Sith Hellens faultes are knowne, and yours in secret hyd:
Take heede least you be ouerthrowne, as Hellen hath be teed.
And blame hir vices all, but wofull chaunce bewayle:
For while I liue euen so I shall, if sorrow might preuaile.
And sith it was your happes, so worthy a Dame to haue:
To warne you from such after claps, as turne you might to scath,
VVhose face did staine the rest, of all that earthly were
Adornde in euery ioynt and drest, most like dame Bewties pere.

Therefore from sacred breast, what scalding sighes streight sende.
Let not your christall eies haue rest, to thinke of Helens ende.
VVith Niob bathe your face in teares, for Helens sake,
Vnto the Gods call, cry, for grace, for to escape the lake,
VVhere Hellen thus with paines, in riuen boate doth rowe.
In fiery seas she still remaines, because shee was vntrewe.

Pope Alexander the sixt rewarded for his wickednesse and odible lyfe, with his colledge of Cardinals, Bishops, Abbots, Moonckes, Freers, and Nunnes, with the rabble of greasie Priestes, and other members of Idolatry and superstition. &c.

O Hell, O Hell, deserued long agoe,
and raging Furies that beare immortall spight,
What doe you meane, why spare you any woe,
that should increase our paine, & pleasure our delight?
Where is your woonted wrath, accustomed to thro
among the soules vnto your charge committed:
Come doe your worst, consume vs all aro,
dispatche vs streight, lets be no longer flitted.

Thou filthy floode of Lymbos lurcking lake,
From choaked pitte, come belche abroade thy flames:
Why come you not you Furies for to take
a greater vengaunce, I call you by your names.
Spew out Plegethon, thy furious fiery flake,
O hell why vomitst not thy greatest gorge of all:
Once giue consent a finall ende to make
of vs, that doe your wrath so gladly call.

Come ougly shapes from olde sepulchers sent,
come filthy Fowles from loathsome boyling puddle,
Come monsterous Grypes, that Tyrius guttes hath rent,
come Iudge of Sprits, come, come increase our trouble.

Come Prince of darcknesse, giue thy fearefull iudgement
O hell vnfolde thy gates, and let the flaming steame
Make hast to increase our punishment,
Dispatche vs once, out of this endelesse trouble.

O vile Idolatrie, the Prince of perdicion,
the waye thou directes to euerlasting paines:
O filthie moment, and wicked superstition,
O blynde doctrine, Interpretor of dreames.
O rotten relikes with all your addicion,
fye vpon you all, sith thus it comes to passe.
Falsehoode in the end hath no remission,
as witnesse our deuillishe detestable mase.

And with these woordes, he caste his head a wrye,
amonge the shaueling greasie chuffhead Friers:
And seeing Morpheus standing present bye,
the sawsie sorte of Priestes with Moonks and Nunnes appeares
At which this Pope beganne to roare and crye,
alas (quod hee) beholde where Morpheus standes:
Hee will proclayme abroade that heare wee lye,
that rule of hell, and heauen did take vppo'ns.

What shall wee doe (quod hee) best call him hether,
it hapneth so there is none other shifte:
Lets say wee come for Soules, they answered altogether,

The Tree is knowne by his fruite.

and that wee meane to make a general shrifte.
Let not bee knowne the cause wherefore and why,
least out of credite thereby our Lawes bee brought:
And sith of custome wee wonted were to lye,
to tell truthe nowe, at all it profites naught.

But while the rowte of Sathans bonde and flocke,
ad reste them selues to gloase and paint this lye:
(Mœgera comes) and cast her fierye blocke.
among the heape that all in flames doeth flye.

Then on theyr Captaine, the shorlinges call and knocke,
but all in vaine, hee coulde not helpe him selfe.
His sinnes had tyed him faster then the rocke,
hee myght not part out of that woeful delfe.

Then fast vpon Saint Frauncis gan they crye,
mee thought as it were a mad Mattins they song:
They were so prickt with paines they had no time to lye,
the parishe was beguilde, the seconde peale not rong.
Some song Sanctamaria Ora pro nobis,
with Sensars & Candle stickes they brake eache others face:
The Pope sweare Gods fleshe Pax nobis,
who lost but his labour there was so small grace.

Some cryed on Saint Iames, and some on Saint Iohn,
and some on Saint Austen, Saint Laurence and Leo.
On Saint Peter with his Keyes, cryed many a one,
but among the whole rowte I heard not Laus deo.
Suche raye was neuer hearde, what euer they meant,
the noyse shoke the clowdes that hang in the Skies:
With nailes and teethe, eache others fleshe they rente,
that Ecco reportes the fearefull plaintes and cryes.

But when they see that Morpheus kept his place,
this cursed Captaine fast vpon him cryed:
And sayde come Morpheus and vewe our woefull case,
beholde howe I and all my mates bee fried.
No longer leyn the trueth they might for woe,

The Traitour & the theefe both confesse the truth when they see no better.

and Maugere of theyr willes Pluto them compelde:
Wherfore and why, they vrged were to shoe,
and so at lengthe, these wordes to him hee tolde.

I was (quod hee) a Pope and of my name,
the Sixt I was and Alexander hight.
But for to heare my life, no man may bide for shame,
that hath the dread of God before his sight.

But lende a while thy lystening eares to mee,
and I shall frieght thy head in hearing of the least:
Sith my rewarde thou doest so perfite see,
to tell the truth at length I call it best.

In learned Scholes I had beene trayned long,

Theodore Borgia afterwarde made Pope and called Alexadre and surnamed the sixte.

and hoyste by fortunes wheele, I was a loftye height:
Yet still my heart in high Ambition hong,
my head for higher state, still practisde sleight.
From highe to harre, I gaped euerye howre,
first calde Theodore Borgia of birth and line:
A Cardinall I thought not of greatest power,
yet see my fortune in my later time.

(For as I sayde) from height to harre, yet hexte of all,
I thought to sit, vnworthye though I were:
There was so many watching for the balle,
whose eyes by deuillishe arte, I did deceiue and bleare.
Many being of mightier birth and blood,
of greater fame then I by farre awaye,
Woulde haue preuented mee with many a snub,
because I sought the seate, and Papal sea.

And when I sawe I could not reache the marke
and I wanted power and friendship tooe:
With coniuration I gan to playe my parte,
and craftelye theyr mindes I altered newe.
Through Negromancie and Inuocation, I
calde vp a Deuill with whome I did confarre:
Touching my sute, {who} aunswered by and by,
to graunt him his request, hee would exalt mee harre.

Thus being conuersaunt with Deuilles long,
theyr ayde and helpe I craued euery daye:
They aunswered mee with speache of pleasaunt tongue,
to doe theyr best they would not sticke nor staye.

The promise to the Deuill.

But first I must both couenaunt and vowe,
in presence of the filthye Prince of darkenesse:
That all his Lawes infernall I shoulde allowe,
and therevnto addicte my selfe by practise.

Mons Caballus is a secrete house to worke knauerye a litle without Rome.

Whiche graunted was, and not denyed at all.
to Mons Caballus, a place not distant farre,
In a cleare daye this Prince infernall
I mette, so close no liuing body warre,
In a Chambre there, him selfe hee did present
in Ritche apparell, and Golden rayes to see,
Three crownes vpō his head, Owcht with stones Orient:
lyke statelye robes hath not beene seene with eye.

A seemelye face presenting midle age,
a stature meete as might bee thought in minde:
His countenaunce shewd, a person verye sage,

A Prothonotarie is vnderstande the greatest writer or Clarke in whose likeness the deuill shewd himselfe.

whose wyll to mine, by cruell oathes I ioynde.
Thus corporate like a Prothonotarie,
or of the world the greatest Prince of all:
What was it then that I calde vnto memorye:
but it was graunted mee without deniall?

For there bee graunted mee my heartes desire,
and sayde I should bee Pope the next that was:
Which with the Phenixe set my heart on fire,
suche hast I made to see it brought to passe.

Behold the fruites of our holye Father the Pope.

Then with a gladsome heart I wishte to knoe,
the time of my pontificalitie:
And howe I shoulde in state of conquest goe,
because I bare a deadlye hate to Italye.

The deceytful & doubtful promise made by the deuil to the Cardinall.

Hee aunswered mee with great disceyte and sayde,
a Leuen and eyght. I should bee Pope of Rome:
But see at length, howe I was quitte and payde,
it prou'de not so when all was sayde and done.

I made accounte to prosper ninetene yeere,
and glad I was as any man might bee:
I thought to make them stoupe both farre and neere,
but yet I was deceyude, the Deuill failed mee.

Innocens of that name, the tenthe died straight,
then by the most elections, placed was I:
In the chayre of Pompe, I stretchte my selfe on heyght,
for Pope I was proclaimed by and by.
Then Alexander the sixt I had to name,
and all for Solemnization of degree:
Thus rechelesse Rome agreed to the same,
bothe Ritche and Poore, then wishte it so to bee,

Thus was the Myter, with the Triple crowne,
ouchte rounde about with stones of worthye pryce,
(Set on my headde) in chayre of statelye Rome,
igrauen subtelly by curious crafty vice.
Arayed in robes of glearing beaten Golde,
with Pearles depotherid here and there in sight:
And at my feete in handes did Cardinals holde,
a Rose of finest mettall costlye dighte.

I treade on Tissue, eache foote I set on grounde,
aboue my head was borne a shryne of golde:
Eache knee fell to the earth, to heare my voyce or sounde,
who went at libertye, that I bad take or holde?
Kinges and Princes, with noble peeres I brought
in feare and awe so muche, they durst not route,
Them and their countreys I sackt & brought to nought
to mee and mine that would not bowe and stowpe.

All Italie in my wrathe I rente and shooke,
all Christian Princes I vexed night and daye:
I banisht Kinges, their regall seates I tooke,
who durst to mee, so hardye doe or saye.

Honoured like a God I was in euery steede.
Who spake against my Lawes that scaped death?
All faithfull men with sworde and fire I rid,
alleadging that they liu'de out of the Christian faith.

Tyrantes prosper not long.

A Leuen yeeres the Tyrante thus I playde
and eyght monethes, then sicke I fell at laste:
I waxed feble, my courage quite decayde,
I pinde awaye and Atropos made haste.
Thus I kept my bedde longe space and time,
the cause thereof I gladlye wisht to knoe:
So at the lengthe I calde a man of mine,
that of my secreates many times did knoe.

Popes Munckes Friers &c. in steede of gods word studied Cōiuration Nigromācie & other cursed acts.

Modena was his name that best I trust,
into my Waredroabe, my keyes withall I sent:
There laye a Booke within a Cubbard thrust,
of Nigromancie in Seruius first frequent.
When as my seruaunt into my Waredroabe came,
(A Pope hee founde) all deckte in Ritche araye:
That seemed as hee thought a very earthly man,
Of whome afrayde, my seruaunt came his way.

And all a freight to me he tels this tale,
which drewe me in a maze and musing minde:
Yet after a while, I calde my man by name,
and sent him once againe the booke to finde.
This booke with golde and precious stones was bounde,
I neuer loued Christes Testament halfe so well:
Of Nygromancie there was containde the ground,
throughout the earth there was not any such.

But when my man the Wardroabe entered
againe, he founde the Pope iawsting vp and downe:
Although he were afrayde, yet manly ventred,
and fainde himselfe, as though he sought a gowne.

But terriblye this Pope with sparkling looke,
(sayde to my man) my friende what doest thou here?
Where at hee shranke forgetting of the booke,
almost hee lost his winde for very dread and feare.

With trembling fleshe anon thus aunswered hee:

The aunswere of the messenger to the vision and the answere of the vision againe.

for the Pope I come to fetche a Gowne (hee sayd)
What Pope? (quod vision) you haue no Pope but mee,
and I am hee, that ought to bee obeyde.
With this my man returned backe agayne,
and what hee sawe reuealed in myne eare:
Whiche when I heard did much augment my payne,
for death at hande, I knew would straight appeare.

Then sicknesse did encrease, eache hower more and more.
and at the length, time gan to drawe so nye:
One like a messenger rapping at the doore,
with open mouth awaye dispatche gan crye,
With this the doores abroade gan flye,
and rushing in hee comes to speake with mee:
First word hee sayde: haste haste dispatche (quod hee)
the time is come, from death thou canst not flee.

Then I obiected to his charge full sore,
the former promise that he made to mee:

The Pope is deceiued by the Deuilles craftye promise

Howe I oughte to liue eyghte yeere by couenant more:
And if a leuen and eyght obserued bee
(Quod hee) agayne my sayinges you haue mistaken,
eleuen yeares eyght monethes was all I meant:
My promise to obserue I haue not yet forsaken,
of eleuen yeeres eyght monethes not one doeth want.

Full glad I woulde haue crau'de a longer time,
but all was vaine to speake him fayre at all:
With cruell lookes, hee aunswered thou art mine,
thou shalt with mee, into the lake infernall.

And thus he turnde his backe and went his waye,
then straight my Corps, did yeld vp vitall breath:
My wofull spirite he toke with him that daye,
where nowe I am tormented with double death.

Loe, what it is to worke by Coniuration,
or to deale with deuils by wicked arte?
Beholde the ende of all abomination,

A faire warning for Coniurers & Inchanters &c.

am I not well rewarded for my part?
A Guerdon meete is Hell, for suche as I,
that sought so much to sitte in statelye seate:
(Nowe who is Pope) vnhappye wretche I trye,
that am preparde for Sathans hooke a baite.

The saying is, a good beginning maks a good ending.

Loe Morpheus: thus I did beginne and ende,
I lefte my Sonne with all my heapes of treasure:
Through al the world, there was not one his friende,
poore and ritche still sought his great displeasure.
I lefte his Sister (whome both wee twoo)
as ofte as pleased vs did vse and take,

Godlye actes of our holie father the Popes doinges.

Carnallye eache night and daye wee knowe,
a common Concubine, I did my Daughter make.

And with these wordes, Mægæra commeth flying,
a thousande newe deuised plagues shee bringes:
Take heare (quod shee) your iust reward for lying,
and therewithal great flames of fire flynges.
This done, shee then departes a pace,
to put in vse her wonted cancarde nature:
A death it was for to beholde her face,
or else to vewe her uglye monstrous stature.

Where at the rable of all this recheles rancke,
immediatelye like bedlems sweare and stare:
Into the hollowe hole of gleydes they sancke,
where furious fiendes, theyr fleshe in peeces tare.

Thus they vanisht, and fled out of our sight,
with carefull cryes, our ruthful eares they filde:
The pit with clowdes of fearefull irkesome night,
and dreadful darkenes rounde about was hilde.

Yet many wee behelde, with offeringes and oblations
that approched nighe, for hast they headlong came:
Frier Rushe bare the Crosse, Clarke of the sessions,
a member of their Churche, the Popes owne man:

Frier Rush

Thousandes came knip knap, pattering on Beades,
Friars Munkes and Nunnes, came after with hast,
As vowed Pilgrimes, came Wiues widowes & Maides,
of the holye Popes workes the fruites for to tast.

Whome when I sawe, theyr state I did bewaile,
with teares I steepte a thousand times my face:
Alas, they sought that might not them preuaile,
the Pope their God, was in a woful case.
Hee broylde in fire, and endlesse woe and paine,
and all his secte, they tasted of the same:
For worldly pleasure, Hell is all theyr gaine,
Beside on earth an euerlasting shame.

Woulde God thought I, in this my drearye dreame,
my countrey men, were present nowe with me:
To vewe the plagues, where Papistes doe remaine,
that then they might that filthye fashion flee.
And turne to Christ, which suffered for theyr sake,
the bloodye butchering Pope for to detest:
In health and wealth, theyr prayers for to make,
to God of might that graunteth our request.

But while that thus, I waylde the want of faith,
awaye (quod Morpheus) Lets packe and get vs hence:
Why hearest thou not one gasping for his breathe?
yea (quod I) but knowe not wel from whence

The wofull noyse doeth come, nor where it is,
geue mee thy hande (quod hee) and bee not frayde:
It is some Sprite rewarded for his misse,
whose carefull cryes, his wicked life bewrayde.

His name his life, his actes that did complaine,
All at fewe vvordes heareafter doe remaine.

The bookes verdite vpon this wicked Pope.

O God howe worthy is thy name? Thou art our Lord and King.
As many as confesse the same, to ioye thou doest them bring.
And such as doe thy name denye, and rob the of thy glory:
Thou dost confound them by & by, and dashe them out of memory.
All secreates thou dost knowe full wel, no man can hide from thee:
And all that in the earth doeth dwell, or in the heauens bee.
Or in the Seas or stony rockes, from farre thou doest behold
The fowles that scale the skies by flockes, and more then can be told.
Th' infernal lake quakes at thy voice, eache fiend doth howle and yel:
And thundreth out an odious noise, when they of the heare tell.
O filthie Tiraunt then to thee, (I speake) that tooke in hande
Among vs all a God to bee, to rule both Sea and lande.
And heauen where the Lord doeth sit, and hell where nowe thou art:
No doubt thou hadst but litle witte, to playe that theeuishe part.
It is to Alexander that, with open mouth I crie:
VVoe worth the time he spared not, to leade the flocke awrie.
Loe, where he is that rulde the rost, and euery kinde of feast:
VVhose vaunting tongue would boast, he was a Father blest
As well within the holie throne, as lowe in Stigian Lake:
And that he could both vp and downe, bring whome he pleasde to take.
Twenty hundreth thousand soules, at Masse he could remoue:
VVith sealing of his Bulles and scrowles, or wagging of his Gloue.
So could he pul them downe from God, when pleased him againe:
As thicke as flakie snowe abroade, or mistie dropping Raine.

And thus the woolfe deuoured our good, & made vs slaues & drudges
Sackt our countries, spoylde our bloode, and made vs liue like snudges.
Kilde our soules and bodies two, deflowred wiues and maydes:
And kept from vs Christs testamēt new, and gaue vs bels and baides
Olde rotten rellickes, stockes, and stones, and Ceremonies blinde:
VVith stinking pardons for the nonce, to feede our foolish minde.
Thus with his Gods both deafe and dumbe, he tyste vs from the Lord:
VVhich sent from heauen Christ his sonne, as scriptures doe recorde.
VVhose precious bloud hath made vs free, from hell and all hir sting
And hellish Pope from thine and thee, which God his people wring.
I yrke to name him any more, and faint within my breast:
Vengance doth vpon him rore, the Lorde hath thee detest.
Thy iust rewarde among thy mates, with lasting paines is quit:
In flashing flames bewayle their states, in dolefull dreade they sit.
Yet would they say that with a masse, they could Plegethon quenche:
And all the soules that damned were, deliuer with a blenche.
And yet themselues lye broyling there, in fire past the crownes:
And with their Idoles sweate & sweare, though here they sat in thrōs
Me thinke them fooles that had such skill, in fetching soules from hel:
And be compelde against their will, in carefull Caue to dwell.
Sith Italie had cause to ioye, at this vile Tyrantes death:
VVhat cause haue we to thanke the Lorde, that are restorde to fayth?
From bondage now are set at large, and woolues deliuered fro:
And therefore duetie giueth charge, our thankefull heartes to sho.
Lets lift our handes with ioyed heart, that liuing be this time:
That Gods true worde in euery part, may florish still and shine.
Let Alexander saue him selfe, with all his holie skill:
For with his rellickes and such pelfe, he may doe what he will.
No doubt he lyeth there for sport, to passe the time away:
Or else to vewe the greate resort, shat Ladies Psalter saye.
Perhaps that Purgatorie paines, he will to blisse conuert:
The sillie soules that there remaines, shall taste no more of smart.
Fie on him fie, and all his mates, the heauens curse him yet:
Of flaming hell he is the gates, and guide to Stigian pit.
His stincking Masses let him take, and Ceremonies blinde:
Doom Gods a thousand though hee make, according to his minde.

Yet he and they doe perish all, the scripture prooues it plaine:
So doe as many slippe and fall, as to his loare doe leane.
But let vs builde vpon the rocke, of Christes Gospell pure:
So wee with him amongst his flocke, for euer shall endure.
VVhere as one God and persons three, be praysed day and night:
And where we shall for euer bee, alwayes within his sight.

Young Tarquine rewarded for his wickednesse.

Awaye with all your playntes and bloobering teares,
Your carefull cryes shut vp in silence quite:
For here behoulde such cruelnesse appeers,
Of all the rest but I no wight hath felt the like.
Hell showes hir force on me with double spite,
No paine to mine, nor none so worthy blame,
As I deserue, I well confesse the same.

O pryde, pryde, of mischiefe roote and all,
Wo worth the time I thee delighted so:
Thou made me climbe vntill I catcht the fall,
Not onely to my shame, but also endlesse wo.
Through pryde, I lost both loue, and honor long ago,
Pryde ruled me so much, no goodnesse I regarded,
Therefore for wickednesse beholde I am rewarded.

Of noble line and race, descended I,
And a Ruler was, and Ruler mighe haue beene,
But yet my heart in wretchednesse did lye:
I fearde not God, nor forst his lawes a pinne,
I ranne my rase alwayes in deadly sinne.
I cleane forgot my selfe, and eke from whence I came,
I rather thought my selfe a God then mortall man.

For who, had that, which I did lacke or want,
Of golde or siluer or stones of precious price?
For my bodie, costlye apparell was not skant,
Nor nothing else that pryde might well entice,
Thus vertue decayde, but still increased vice.
To pamper vp the paunche, the filthy fleshe fulfill,
I wholy gaue my selfe with earnest heart and will.

Which caused me to acumilate eche houre,
Upon my heade more plagues then can be namde:
The Gods agreed their vengance for to poure
On earth for aye: my name I stainde and shamde,
Thus may you heare how I am Iustly blamde.
To my disprayse, and to the prayse of soome,
That by my losse to honour & great prayse haue coome.

Sith Morpheus thou art here, and brought thy friend with thee
Be witnesse of the woe that Tarquine bydeth here:
Sith Poets haue pende the wicked life of mee,
Of my rewarde thou mayst reporte well bere.
For the purpose none more meeter then thou here:
It is no councell that all the worlde doth knoe,
Nor yet forgot, that was done long agoe.

Fie on rapine, through guilefull treason wrought,
Fie on the swelling flesh that soule and bodie kils:
Fie on filthinesse, whose ende is euer nought,
And fie on folly, that all good maner spils.
Take heede all you that follow fleshly wils.
Of me prowde Tarquine made a mirror clere.
So may you shunne the paines I suffer here.

Beholde, when I did Lucrece finde in bed,
Through harmefull sleight premeditate before,
With naked sworde in hand to hir I sayde:
Consent to me (quoth I) else shalt thou liue no more:

Thy tender fleshe this Lainche shall carue full sore:
Then will I slea the worst thy house within,
Ile make report you were committing sinne.

Which wordes did rauishe so her noble sence and witte,
That tremblingly shee quakes, as doeth the Aspen Leafe:
Feare streight compeld her quakinglye to sit,
Like as shee woulde depart with vitall breath,
The naked Sworde in sight, stil threatning present death,
Thus I rauisht a Ladye both vertuous and chaste,
Wherfore I am cōpelde, (alas) these sorowes to taste.

Whereat eache tongue did talke to my disprayse,
And for the same, I banisht was for euer:
(Sith then) all my posteritie aye euermore decayes.
Loe thus the Gods their vengance doe deliuer:
Bewayled be the daye that then I did com thither.
Among my wicked deedes, this onely was the worst,
Therefore I was and am for euermore accurst.

I am a sacke of sorrowe in this sincke
And stincking puddle wherein you see me lye:
Whose faultes with mine respondent pende with inke,
Were euer hearde or scande with learned eye?
As vice to my reproache, so vertues Fame doth flye
Tooth' prayse of Lucrecia and example of all such.
As of hir doe delight, and of me doe reade much.

For when this wilfull act committed was,
And I had fed my lust this noble matron on:
Then for to liue, nothing she loued lesse,
With wringing handes, Alas she maketh mone,
Come Atropos (quoth shee) make hast that I were gone
And crying still, come Clotho come make speede,
Of Lucrece life, vntwine the fatall threede.

Then pardon craued shee of Colatine

Colatine was the husband of Lucrece.

And of hir father Spurius by and by:
I haue made offence, wo woorth the wicked time,
Thus weeping sayde this Lady rufully:
I hearing this from thence departed spedilye.
And left in wofull plight, this Dame drownd vp with teares,
Whose vertues, in women full rarely now appeares.

But al you Ladies, Wiues, and Maides eache one,
Of what degree or yet estate you bee:
No doubte although Lucrecia bee gone,
As myrrour maye remaine, this storye when you see.
So may you learne the gifte of chastitye,
What loue you ought your husbandes for to beare,
In spending of her daies, the profe doeth plaine apeare.

O wretched wight (quod he) howe dare I shewe my face?
The earth doeth threate this wilfull acte of myne:
It is, and wilbe Iudgde I wanted grace,
Thus losing honour, I steynde my Auncientes line.
At all that beare my name, the people doe repine.
Yea the very stones that in the streates doe lye,
Into the Heauens, vpon this crime doe crye.

Then wished shee Ipolas happye chaunce,
Or Virgineas ende, or Didos long agoe:
(Quod shee) thereof this deede, false Taquine should not vaunce,
That nowe for euer, shame abroade shal bloe.
And shall my husband weete him serued so?
That shall hee not, (quod shee) a swoorde shee tooke,
In blattering blood, the vitiall breath forsooke.

Loe Morpheus, alas, nowe haue I tolde thee all,
And of my being here, the cause wherefore and whye.
Nowe mayst thou thinke, my grace was very small,
That in my life coulde not for mercye crye.

But wickednesse craues vengeaunce, to the skye.
And not without a cause the Gods doe punishe hate,
And so they doe al them that liue in whoredome state.

But Morpheus, Morpheus, sith thou seest my lot,
A blessed deede it is, the same for to declare:
From Ritche and Poore, I praye the hide it not,
Proclaime howe wicked men rewarded are.
From Pride and whoredome, wishe thy friendes beware
The time is short on earth they haue to dwell,
But endles tormentes euer bide in hell.

If mortall men did knowe, what paine is heare,
Then woulde they lothe the worlde they loue so well:
Their pompe, their Pride, and all theyr glittering geare,
To punishe the paunche, some feare would sure compell.
All treason and fleshlye fraude, for to expell.
All Tyrantes trades no doubte, they would forgoe,
And if they felt the least of this my woe.

But hee that blinded is, with ease and wealth,
Their rauisht heartes hath dulde their wittes as lead:
Gods feare is gone, and eache man for him selfe,
To purchase pelfe the worldling toyles his head.
The Childe forgettes his Father being dead.
To taste of death him selfe, no deale mistrust,
Tyll grizlye ghost do blowe, that needes away he must.

Alas howe vaine is all thing on the earth,
What care to catche, what feare to keepe it still:
What sorrowe it settes, where should bee ioye and mirth,
Ingendering hate, there as should bee good will.
Prouoking wrath, The verye spirite to spill.
And yet beholde howe euerye man doth watche,
And with the trowte the choking hoke doth catche.

And thus fare well nowe gette you hence from mee,
You knowe my minde, deale in it as you will:
My wicked acte, and iuste rewarde you see,
And howe my paine increaseth euer still.
Awaye (quod hee) beholde downe yonder hill
Alecto comes with flaming flashing winges,
For pride & whordome, a thousand plagues shee brings.

Then streight departed wee and left him there,
And wandering vp and downe, those smokye pittes:
Mee thought a rufull voice, as it a woman were,
Fast bye, declard what plagues shee felt by fittes.
To heare her plaint I almost lost my wittes.
On whoredome still shee cryed, woe worth that wicked sinne,
That mortal fleshe so much deliteth in.

But when I calde to minde the leade wherein,
I sawe Tarquinus lye, with flames of Brimstone whote:
In middes whereof, hee stoode vp to the chinne,
All blubberid with blisters, alas not free one spotte,
And howe with sodden Pitche, his body all was blotte.
Twoo fiends shot thonderboltes, at him on either side,
Whereat hee dowkes, his careful face to hide.

Thus in this fornace, amid these boyling heates.
Hee standeth to the Chin, but when hee dowketh soe:
And thus the sezing dartes, ofte in his visage beates,
The feare thereof increaseth double woe.
Thus Tarquine was rewarded, and so were thousandes moe.
That had theyr factes declared to theyr face,
Which was to late as then, to crye for grace.

The rewarde of Medea for hir wicked actes, and false deceyuing of hir father, sleying of hir children and hir owne Brother, and working by inchauntment. This historie is merueylous tragicall, and a good example for VVomen.

O dreadfull Stix, boyle vp thy poysoned floodes,
and cruell Cacus torments newe deuise:
Giue sentence Mynos of theyr guiltlesse bloodes
that murderers handes haue shed in any wise.
You furies fell, why doe you yet despise
with greater plagues my paines for to increase,
And for to see the bloode of Innocents arise,
whose mouthes from crying vengance neuer cease?

And where shee stoode, hir heade shee cast awry,
In wofull plight as euer wretch might be,
And so by chaunce at length did Morpheus spie,
whose open iawes, gryed streight to him and me.
Saying Morpheus come and bring thy frinde with thee,
a greater newes to learne thou shalt in hast,
Of all thou hast perused with thine eye,
I worthy am the greatest griefe to taste.

I knowe thou camst from place where Hellen rowes,
in th' irkesome lake where doubtfull Dragons bee,
And yet hir wicked life and mine God knowes
are not to be comparde, although that shee,
For certaine yeares liued in adulterie,
and betrayed hir husbande, good noble Menelaus,
Set Greece and Troy at great mortalitie,
shed bloode, sackt Cities, banisht godly lawes.

(Yet this hir fact, not halfe like mine alas)
why doth not hell brayde out hir stinking breth?
And my desertes much worse then Hellens was,
(Hell spew thy spight) deuoure me once with death.
Will neyther ruthe, nor spight, stirre vp your heartes?
will none of those once mooue you to dispatche,
But will you alwayes playe such cruell partes?
more wishing death, more lingering life I catche.

(Quoth Morpheus) what is thy name declare it,
where wast thou borne, why art thou plagued tell?
(Quoth shee) againe, no more I will not spare it,
Make hast (quoth hee) I may not tarry well.
A'the which, with greeuous scriking yell,
shee did describe hir wicked crimes and name,
I am (quoth shee) so punisht here in hell,
that passeth wight with tongue to tell the same.

My name is Medea (quoth shee) most trewe,
daughter I was to Oetes that worthy king:
Which had the Ramme where fleece of golde ygrewe,
the greatest iewell of any earthly thing.
Which was my fathers, and in his keeping,
watcht with a Bull, that was of worthy might,
And a Dragon with mightie poysoned sting,
that stoutly kept this Ramme both day and night.

Many a worthy Prince and champion stoute,
had lost their liues in venture giuing,
Which neuer brought their purpose yet about,

An olde saying, al couet, all lose.

nor no man to this day but Iason liuing.
Deuoured they were by the rauening of these two,
he lost his life, that thought to win his shooes:
These beastes so violently did all men pursue,
that for to die might neyther will nor choose.

Whiche was my Fathers chiefe of exaltacion,
hee florished in wealth no Prince his like:
Drad hee was of euerye lande and Nation,
hee forste no strength of all his foes a mite.
And yet of treasure all, he sette his chiefe delite
on mee his Daughter deare, that sought his griefe.
I quite my Fathers loue with mortall spite,
I playde the whore, the murdresse and the theefe.

Harke nowe Morpheus, what a parte I playde,
by my Father deare my Brother and my Childe:
And what a noble quene I afterward betrayed,
with many moe by wicked arte I broilde.
And other some I banishte and exilde,
by Deuillishe wayes as women shoulde not doe:
For why they ought with mercye to bee milde,
and not theyr wicked willes for to pursue.

Beholde howe I did nature quite forsake,
for this I did as true as here I am:
When Iason came this conquest for to make,
(false traitour I) through mee the fleece hee wanne.
For arte of wicked Charme I straight beganne,
for Iason sake my Parent to betraye:
Dismaide my Father sillye Aged man,
abandoned his house, with Iason ranne awaye.

By incantacion: I brought it so to passe,
that Iason slewe bothe Bull and griesly Beast:
Atchieu'de all thinges as his desire was,
for of my Brother I caused him possest,
That in the Regall seate, should crowne & scepter beare.
in Colcos Lande it booted not to rest:
For why my Father so greate an hoast did reare.
with fleese to flye, we thought it was the best.

For why harde by my Father followed fast,
But to escape his handes, harke what I did:
I kilde my Brother, his armes and legges I cast
Throughout the fielde whereas my Father rid.
Which when my Father sawe, so ill betide,
and knewe his sonne thus martyrred for to bee:
With woefull cheare to get them vppe straight hide.
togeather (alas) eache chopped peece layde hee.

Then downe his Aged face, doeth tumble teares apace.
and vp in armes the Martyred head doeth gette:
Oh Sonne most deare, alas (quod hee) for grace,
and many a kisse on deadlye mouth doth sette.
And then with nayles, his face he rentes and teares,
that downe the purple streames of blood doe flee:
And readye death within his face appeares,
but styll he cryed, (alas) deare sonne for thee.

To tell but halfe the morning that hee made,
no doubte your eyes like conduicte spoutes would run,
For verye woe hee pulleth out a blade,
to slea him selfe for sorrowe of his sonne.
But yet his men and seruauntes chaunste to come,
my carefull Father there they did preuent:
Or else no doubte more mischiefe had beene done,
and all through mee, accurst and disobedient.

Then after stormes of many woefull plaintes,
perswaded by suche men as wittye were:
Like as Apelles Agamemnon, paintes,
I maye compare my Fathers dreirye cheere:
Then in meane while, that hee was stayed there,
with speede from Colcos Iason, and I did passe
For my Brothers funerall, hee builded Aulters fayre
to Sacrifice vpon, as then the maner was.

Loe by my Father thus I playde the the theefe,
gainst nature and womanhood my Brother slewe:
And vsed witchcraft against the true beleefe,
and like a Traitres, awaye with Iason flewe.
Haste thou euer harde of any so vntrue?
To playe like part I thincke did neuer none:
Naye Morpheus yet more mischiefe did I brewe,
for after this I murdered many a one.

Through Nigromancie, Eson being olde,
from crabbed crooked Age, I made him yong againe:
Liuelye and lightsome, actiue and bolde,
and purelye purged in euerye Puls and vaine.
And Trees being dead I made beare fruite againe,
which increased my credite, more then euer it was:
Through false crafte, I causde Pelleus be slaine,
by his Daughters handes I brought it so passe.

Whome I made beleeue, as Eson did.
that Pelleus theyr Father should youth acheiue:
And tolde them playne in doing as I bid,
hee should bee altered newe, not feeling paine nor grefe.
Thus I illuding them, they thought it true,
(So did Pelleus him selfe) that time good man:
That being slaine from age to youth a newe,
hee shoulde bee chaunged by killing of a Ram.

(The trueth was nothing soe) it was my fetche,
to cause his Daughters, their Fathers blood to shed:
An olde Ram I badde them slea and wittely to watche,
that no man sawe, when they to worke procede.
But (quod I) looke that your Father bleede
in one vessell, and with this Ram at once:
And doing thus, I sayde that by and by with speede,
theyr Father should arise with youthful flesh and bones.

These sillye Sisters and Daughters to this man,
beleeued well this subtile tale of mine:
And as I bad, they slewe an aged Ram,
and so they did theyr Father deare in fine.
Beleeuing faithfullye by power deuine,
that theyr olde Father should bee made yong:
(Alas) which was not so, but onelye crafte of mine,
to make an ende of him whome I had hated long.

Thus exited I, by crafte theyr worke alas,
and dead lyeth theyr father bleeding fast.
But harke, Morpheus harke, how it then came to passe,
mischiefe hath euer her due rewarde at last.
I thought this wicked deede, that thus was done and past,
woulde best haue pleased Iason, then my Lorde:
Which chaunste not so, for hee with all the hast
fled from mee quite, and all my actes abhorde.

And so to Corinthe, to Creon, Then the King
hee tooke his waye as straight as thing might bee:
Who had a Daughter called Cruso, (bewties darling)
whome Iason married, and so refused mee,
Whereat Dame Fame sound vp her Trumpet hye,
eache liuing eare was filled with the same:
Which made mee broyle as whot, as gleyde might bee,
till I had spilde this tender noble Dame.

Which through Magike, and vile Coniuration,
A cofer I inuented with diuers Iewels moe:
Subtillye contriued of a straunge fashion,
with the which to Creuso, I made my sonnes to goe,
To present the same, that liuelye Ladye toe,
who gratefullye receyued it, but yet (alas) beguilde:
For through my arte, when as it was vndoe,
there flewe foorth fire, that burnde both man and child.

Consumde to dust this Ladye fresh and gaye,
burnde all the pallas fiue yardes within the grounde:
Urged Iason him selfe to flee away,
or else with fire he had beene streight confound.
Many a wofull heart I made within that stounde,
the Clowdes themselues, bewayling teares let fall.
The rockes and hilles brake out their plainting sounde,
beside the guiltlesse bloode, that did for vengance call.

Of noble Iason thus the heart I slewe,
who thought to be reuengde of mine iniquitie:
Towards me when I perceyu'de he drew,
my two sonnes left aliue, without compassion or pitie,
Which were both tender, well made, and wittie,
of my body begot, and naturallye borne,
For malice to their father Iason, amyd the Citie,
I cut their throtes (and made their bodies torne,

With wilde horses) vp and downe the streete,
beside much mischiefe more than this be sure.
In all this stincking vale, yet did thou neuer meete
with any wretch that did like greefe procure.
But who so euer meanes, in wickednesse to byde,
or leade a Tyrauntes life, in thend shall haue rewarde,
According his deserts, this cannot be denyed.
Though mortall fleshe thereto hane no regarde.

And then (quod she) thou knowest my name and why
that I am thus tormente in Stygion pitte,
O that witches and Coniurers knew so well as I,
of Ioues mightie doome that doth in heauen sitte,
Then woulde they mende, if they had grace or witte,
To serue the Lorde woulde set theyr whole delight:
And disobedient children woulde their follye flitte,
assuredly the Lorde at length doth smite.

And with these wordes her paines increaste so sore,
(But that shee sayde) report good Morpheus thus:
Or else at all wee heard her saye no more,
but that shee shrikte as one that tormente is.
Thus seeing the reward of her wicked deedes,
Wee stayed a while her tormentes to behold:
Which at a moment, both daye and hower breedes,
much more then can by any tongue bee tolde.

To see the staring Deuilles with fiery speares,

The tormentes of Stigion.

on Dragons backes with poisoned pumples pight:
As at a Quintan, at Medea, eche Tyrant beares,
and through her runnes, that trickling blood appeares.
Then from the scalding heart, by violence out teares,
Hote flames of fire, at woundes on euery side,
Monsters with hornes, and lothsome louped eares,
Ranne on this wretch, with gnashing teeth they cryed.

The blood by murder, this wicked wretche had shed,
thundered vengeaunce, whose terrible noyse,
Heapte double paines vpon her wretched head,
and filde that dreadeful vale, (alas) with woeful noise.
Innumerable of Witches, out of theyr Cabbins rose,
with screming scrikes, they yelded loude and hye.
Hote Pitche and Brimstone, eache one on other throse,
A hell it selfe, mee thought it was to see.

Eache one in hande, begrypte a Butchers knife,
the blades in fleshe on euerye side they hide:
The throate, the Guttes, or nexte to ridde the life,
the mortall woundes they make on euery side.
Then straight with thundring throate Mægæra cryde,
come, Cacus, come, bring double paine and woe:
Let wickednesse in endles flames bee fride,
come, come, the Gods haue fixte it soe

At which came Cacus, and Cloudes of fire shakes,
more fearefull farre then blaste of storming winde
Eache pitte boylde vp, the craggye mountayne quakes,
all crawling creepes, the Snakes of Serpentes kinde.
No greater griefe, no damned spryte coulde finde,
For out of flashe, to gleydes of glowing coale,
From paine, to paine, from place to place assignde,
and al to toyle and teare the woefull soule.

And thus wee lefte this late rewarded Dame,
and so adrest our selues, to crooked Charons bote,
Where many a wandering spirite, had passage by ye same,
through boyling broath, three times as sulfer hote,
With muche a doe, at length wee passage gote,
and downe the smoaking banckes, wee crepte on knee,
Tyll at the length by chaunce it was our lotte,
too men to see tormented woefullye.

The bookes verdite vpon Medea.

Her cause who can bewaile, that plaide this butchers parte:
As from her father deare to steale, that lou'de her in his hart.
Her brother thus to slea, the Parentes hearts to kill:
And with a straunger ronne awaye, to feede her fleshly will.
The guiltlesse blood to sucke, of Creuso vvorthy Dame:
And all at once vppon a rocke, to wast in fiery flame.
Beside, her Children deare, hath wounde with mortall knife.
The smiling Babes her body beare, bereft their tender life.
VVhat eyes can stint from fluddes, whose eares doe vnderstande
To cal to minde the gyltles bloods, shed by this womans handes?
VVhat harme by witchraft done, it passeth tongue to tell:
Or any heart to thinke the somme, or hand to penne it well.
(Alas) whoe would haue thought, that in a womans breast:
Dame nature would haue let been wrought, to breede so much vnrest?

But harde it is to trust, what euer that shee bee:
That to hir father is vniust, shee meanes the same to thee.
But loe you cruell Dames, that loue your wils so much:
I speake it now to all your shames, if there be any such.
Medea now is gone, that all the bate did brewe:
Take heede among you there be none, with hir to prooue vntrewe.
You witches all take heede, you see how God rewardes:
And what appoynted is your meede, that diuelish actes regardes.
Leaue of your inuocation, your crossings and your charmes:
(Alas) it is abomination, and doth increase your harmes.
You parents it is time, to looke your younglings to:
Least with this Prince, you say in fine, heartes ease and child adue.
Keepe in your daughters strayght, best counsell I can geue:
Least that perhaps shee catch a bayte, that both your harts may greue.
And bring them vp in feare, and godlie bookes to reede:
And then be sure that thou shalt heare, that wel thy chide shall speede
And banish wilie will, from out thy daughters place:
His sleyghtie shiftes will thousands spill, you know he wanteth grace
Let bouldenesse banisht be, lay libertie aside:
And looke you neuer doe agree, to paint them vp in pride.
And so you shall reioyce, your daughters dayes to see:
VVith Helchias lift vp your voyce, with prayse as glad as hee.
Thus farwell Virgins all, God guide you in his way:
I doubt not but Medeas fill, your tender heartes shall fraye.
And sith shee broyles in hell, whereas release is none:
There I am sure that shee shall dwell, it helpeth not to mone.
I cannot weepe therefore, to thinke what partes shee playde:
Shee lost hir soule for euermore, hir name is quite decayde.
Take heede, hir gaines you see, the Gods not one doe spare:
For this or that, looke what they be, rewarded well they are.

The wordes of tormented Tantalus, being rewarded for his extortion and couetousnes: Oppressing of the poore people of his Countrey: And for other wicked actes.

If any here haue cause for to complaine,
What maye I doe that pined am for foode?
I wishe and wante, I craue but all in vaine,
I see the tempting fruite, and so I doe the flood:
Whereof to eate and drinke, I wish none other good.
If all the world were mine, sharpe hunger gnawes me so,
To haue my belly filde, al this I would forgoe.

No ioye nor pleasure, halfe doth glad the heart,
Nor greatest thing that minde hath thought most sweete:
Though all were mine, in euery place and parte,
And that eache man were kneeling at my feete,
Like pleasure to this woe, was not compared yet.
For hunger passeth all, who knewe his part with mee,
No death so bad, as liuing thus to bee.

Gregor.

But wickednes want'h not his iust reward.
All you that beare rule therefore
Howe you come thereby, it's best you haue regard:
And being mighty, how you vse the poore.
Your owne infirmityes remember euermore.

Bernar.

Beware of couetousnes, it's a slye and slieghtye baite,
The father of Ipocrisie, and forger of disceite.

And ambition is a priuie poison,
It's also a pestilens, couered closse:

Plutar.

The nourishe of enuie, the fountaine of treason,
The mouthe of make bate, to all mens losse,
The blinder of hartes, as the world nowe goes.

Herm.

Making of remedies, diseases greate store,
And of pure salues, many a great sore.

But hee that seekes aboue the rest to bee,

Tullius.

And gapes to reache the highest starre alofte,

No doubt many times forgetteth equitie,
And also Iustice, it plaine appeareth ofte.
Who desireth glorye, that fortune hath not skofte?
Though lulde a while, within her fickle lappe,
At length she leaues him cadgde within her cruel trappe.

But al to late alas I doe confesse,
My wicked crimes, wherefore I suffer nowe.
In time and space, I would not finde redresse.
To God nor man, I would not bende nor bowe:
No mans Iudgement but mine owne I would allowe.
Repent that life, I thought I had no neede,
For as on earth, I thought eache where to speede.

Though for my helpe, confession come to late,

August.

Yet in time, confession is a remedie:
It confoundeth vices, restoreth vertues to eache estate.
Deuilles it vanquisheth, in greatest extremitie:
The Gates of Paradise, it openeth most freely.
Gods vengeaunce ceasseth, if man confesse betime,

Ambros.

But so to doe, the grace was neuer mine.

Sith confession is the life of a sinner,

Barnar.

A glorye to good men, and necessary to thoffendour.
Hee that will not confesse, whereof he was beginner,
His grace with mine maye bee called sclender.
But happye is hee that goodes ill gotte doth render
To them againe, from whence they came at first,
Bee sure other waies they stande to God accurst.

(Alas) how vaine is pleasure, that most so much imbraces?

August.

With what diligence, and expectacion men
Doe seeke this worldly wealth, that bideth but a space?
Sliding slilye hence, no time appointed when,
Wherefore I wishe you all, Gods hasty wrath to ken:
Boast not to daye, what thou wilt doe to morrowe,

Hierom.

Or yt the Sun go down, thy mirth may turne to sorow.

Chrisost.

Set little by richesse, and riche shalt thou be,
Set lest by renowme, and fame shall loue thee best:
Care not for afflictions, take them quietlie,
Let reason rule thee, so shalt thou be in rest.
He that scapes the wrath of mightie Ioue is blest.
But they that wicked are, no doubt must plagued bee,

Seneca.

What needeth better proofe, or tryall but by me.

Iacobus.

For iudgement without mercie is euer due
To them that be vnmercifull to the poore:
But sure mightie men, doe thinke Gods worde not true,
They thinke to liue, and dure for euermore,
As I my selfe did, Alas I crye therefore.
My wicked deedes, my woe doe still increase,
And puttes me out of doubt, my paines shall neuer cease.

Plinius.

One day deemeth another from time to time
Of this, or that, as things doe chaunce to fall:
But the last day giueth iudgement, declaring euery crime
When eche man is compelde to make accountes for all,
Then sweete worldely welth, doth taste like bitter gall.
Who hath sustained wrongs, for vengaunce then shall cry.
Th' oppressors of the poore, shal perish by and by.

And with these wordes, he snatcheth at the tree,
The fruite whereof, declined to his lippe:
Which on the sodain, from hys mouth gan flee,
And floodes with swelling waues vpon his chinne doe hit.
Yet might he not attaine thereof one bit.
But staruing standes, betweene these two for foode:
Disguisde for want of meate, this careful Caitiue stood.

And looking backe by chaunce hee Morpheus spyed
(And me) that stoode vpon a bancke aboue:
To whome streightwaye hee showted, houlde and cryed,
Come neere good Morpheus and see the paines I prooue.

And warne all them, to whome thou bearest loue,
my wicked lyfe, that once I ledde to flee:
Byd them restore the gooddes got wrongfully.

And what's thy name quoth Morpheus woulde I know?
From whence thou came, of whome thou art descended?
And why thou doest endure this cruell woe,
What hast thou done, the Gods be thus offended?
My actes (quoth hee) might well haue bene amended.
But when I was on earth, and had the worlde at will,

Lactaneius

I neuer thought to dye, but to haue liued still.

I am the sonne of Iupiter, a God of mightie fame,
And borne of Plote, as witnesse writers olde,
And at my birth had Tantalus to name,
Lorde of many a countrie. I was a Captaine bolde,
But the cause of my plague the Poets haue mistolde.
Yet Morpheus thou shalt here the cause wherfore and why
The Gods awarde me here to wayle and crye.

Some thinke the Gods tooke vengaunce for my sonne,
Young Pelops, whome when I wanted meate,
And that the Gods vnto my house did come,
Because some saye I slewe him for to eate,
The Poets therefore thought that I thys fleeing bayte,
Was iudged by the Gods alwayes to want & wish:
(As still I doe) but yet the cause was this.

For in my countrie none but I the cheefe:
Subiect vnto me they were both far and nie.
Who was so hardie but mauger of his teeth,
I pluckt him on his knees, and if he lookt awry?
But (alas) of wicked counsell each houre may I crye,
Which put it in my heade, the poore for to subdue
In Phrigia where I rulde, which now full sore I rue.

What could bee thought, that earthly man might please,
To pompe the paunche, or feede the greedy eye?
(Nothing at all) but by the lande or seas,
With a word of my mouth, I had it by and by.
I thought to mount aboue the starry skye.
A woefull chaunce betide, the causers of my smart,
Which counseld mee to play, the Tyrantes parte.

Alas, alas, what grace had I vile wretche,

Repentaunce to late.

To poule, and spoile, my subiectes as I did?
Out of reason, theyr rentes I did both racke and retche:
And another sort from house and grounde I rid:
Compeld them to bandone familye and kinred,
I banisht whome mee list, eache man was glad to please
Both mee and mine, that thought to liue at ease.

I neuer had inough, ne could I bee content
To take the world as all my elders did:
I famishte the countrey with fines and double rent.
Esteeming not the mite, that poore men to me offred,
I gapte for gobs of Golde, which greedily I coffred.
Money was my desire, get it howe I might,
Of Ritche or Poore, all one, as wel by wrong as right.

Wicked counsell.

But Morpheus, nowe to tell the sum and all,
I will not leaue the least, for thus it is:
My seruauntes through theyr counsell were principall,
That thus I was corrupt, I crye therefore alas,
They fed mee with fables, to bring theyr purpose to passe.
And in my name the poore they spoyled quite,
To mee vnknowen, when I receiu'de no mite.

Thus many a score, that serued mee that time,
That were of base degree, and of the simplest sort:
By title of my name, alofte beganne to clime,
And sought for seates of greater fame and port:

To spoyle my subiectes they thought it but a sport.
The simplist knaue I had, that any office beare,
Was honored of my Subiectes, as I my selfe it were.

For theyr owne aduauntage as it did appeare,
To picke them thankes, within mine eares they whisper,
Keepe down ye dunghil knaues (quoth they) in dread & feare
The Churles bee ritche, let's purge them with a glister:
The poorest widowe, bee sure they neuer mist her.
The fatherles, (alas) a begging out they thrust,
Who payde not al & more, a packing needes they must.

And so my subiectes heartes (alas) I lost,
My honor eke decaide, eache tongue declarde my crime:
Thus I purchaste hate of them that lou'd me most,
And bare the name, for worst of al my line:
Thus were the poore opprest, eache day by mee and mine.
A thousand hungry soules, within one yeere made I,
For meate and drinke, the countrey through to crye.

I was corrupt with couetise, I neuer had inough,
For all my worldly treasure, yet euer was I needye.
As fast as I spoilde, al the countrey through,
Yet with the Cormorant, I gaped alwayes greedye,
Therefore the rewarde of my wickednes came spedye.
For my extorcion and famishing of the poore,
Beholde howe I am quitte, with like for euermore.

Morpheus, moue thine acquaintaunce to take good heede
Whome they appoint and put in aucthoritye,
Let them bee sure, they shall aunswere with speede,
For extorting the poore, and other enormitye:
Although they mistrust not, any transformitye.
But alwayes doe thinke, on the earth for to dwell,
Unlookte for comes death, and rewardes them ful wel.

Who hated I so ill, as them which lou'de mee best?
Who gained at my handes, but such as taught mee guile?
Those that wishte mee worship, I euer loued least:
My practise was alwaye, my countrey for to spoyle,
By meane whereof I did my name defile,
And such as would in myne affaires haue dyed:
Moste churlishlye, of thankes I haue denyed.

Too many of this condiciō at these daies.

Thus on this worlde, a God I alwayes made,
Wherein I thought to dwell for euermore:
At my pleasure and will, the Countrey did inuade:
Passing not a pinne for the curses of the poore.
If hee filde not my bagges, I thrust him out of doore,
As for mercye, at my hande, it booted not to craue,
They did but sturre my choler, more cruelly to raue.

There wantes no pickthāks.

I lou'de vaineglory most, hee was my counsel chiefe,
And priuate gaine of whome I spake before,
And other such, as teare my subiectes with theyr teeth,
As a Dogge a bone, they vsde my people poore,
Of Teltales and Pickthanks, I alwaies had great store,
Whose whispering tales, were Gospels in mine head,
And thus in steede of trueth, with falsehood was I fed.

My shoulders laden were, with worldly muck,
And yet mine eyes desired what I see:
Though all the world were layde vpon a rocke
It neuer might haue satisfied myne eye,
If more then inough, had halfe contented mee,
I might haue liu'de, in honour al my dayes,
And of the poore haue wonne immortal praise.

Paulus.

But fye of worldly mucke, fie on it twenty times,
To mutuall enuie, most men it doeth prouoke
And vaineglorye, doeth teache a thousand careful crimes,
In euery mischiefe, these twoo, doe euer strike a stroke,

A deceytfull sweetenesse, That bindes to Sathans yoke

August.

An vnfruiteful labour, a continuall dread and feare,
A daungerous aduauncement, The aucthor of dispaire.

Uaineglory alwayes, without repentaunce endeth,
Whose beginning without prouidence is:
Prouokes the Gods to wrath, the people it offendeth.
Who gloreth in this globe, that thinkes hee doeth amisse?

Such there are.

Hee gapeth like a gutton, for glorye to bee his,
Whose eyes bee fixte into the Skies on hye,
And wisheth winges aboue the Sunne to flee.

What greater follie can bee then to couet Ritches,

Dioge.

It tormentes the minde, and breakes the quiete sleepes,
It vexeth the heart, and myrth away it twitchis.
Many miserable thoughtes, in the conscience it keepes,
It shakes vp the stomacke, making sowers of sweetes,
It shorteneth the life, as the Philosopher sayeth,
It makes Children, & kinsfolke, wishers of your death.

It keepeth from doing Godlye charitable deedes,

Horæ.

It causeth the partye not cherishe him selfe,
Being neuer friendly to any man that needes,
Dispatching eache man of theyr perfite health,
Loe, these bee the fruites of this vile worldly pelfe,
Which causeth man, to liue a misers life,
Whose ende is destruction, to man, mayde, and wife.

And with these wordes, the woefull sillye wretche
His Iawes ope caste, that boilde and burnde with heate:
And withered staruen armes, with violence doe stretche,
In hope to catche the slieghty tempting bayte,
Which hanges on flattering bowes, that flatters him to eate,
And to his mozid mouth declines yt barked is ful drye,
Whē the hungry soule, would eate, away ye fruite doth flye.

And flood on euery side, swels vp with boyling waues,
Wherein hee standes an inche aboue the Chinne:
Whose cruell thyrst to drynke, no litle craues,
But when to taste, poore soule hee doth beginne,
It blencheth out of sight, as it had neuer beene.
Then touched fruite, doeth beate him on the teethe,
Appointed by the Gods, to worke him double griefe,

With face deformde, al quaking standeth hee,
Ten times worse then death, the Caitife lookes:
Nought els vppon his legges, but skinne and bones to see,
Eache finger of his hande, as bare as angling hookes,
His bellye as thinne, as out of season flowkes.
Muche like a shadowe of the Moone hee standes,
With rewfull cheare, doth wring his careful handes.

And after a while, amid his tormentes greate,

Marcus Curius.

(Quoth hee) Oh Marcus Curius, blessed bee thy dayes.
Thou wast indifferent, thou dealt not with disceate.
Thou wanst thy subiects harts, & wanst immortal praise:
Thou wast a louing Capitaine, to men at al assaies.
For to thy people thou wast a Parent deare,
As by thy noble actes, among them did appeare.

Thou didst deuide the soyle, by iust and equall line,
And to eache man, thou fortye acres gaue:
Which ground before alotted was for thine.
Yet like, for like, with least thou would but haue,
The faithful heartes of men, was al that thou didst craue.
Therefore thy iust rewarde, is with the Gods on hye,
And through the earth, thy fame, abroade doth flye.

And wride his head, and Morpheus straight behelde,
Thou knowest my name (quoth he) I pray ye get the hence
To leaue my talke, by thyrst I am compelde:
The hungry worme, doth also worke mee vengeance.

Sith of my deedes thou hast true intelligence,
Declare it to thy frindes, how euer they regard it,
How I for my wickednesse of Pluto am rewarded.

That will I doe (quoth he) the best I may or can,
To all the worlde diuolgat shall it be,
My voyce shall thunder it out vnto eche man,
The rewarde of wickednesse that now I see:
Doe so (quod Tantalus) and therewithall doth hee
Betwixt the fruite and guylefull fountaines vaine,
Watching wisheth foode to ease his hungry paine.

And thus we both departe, and went our way,
This dreirye doubtfull Myser, left we there,
Whose thirste increaseth griefe, to see the pray
That heart woulde haue, in sight doth aye appeere.
Streight came Alecto, And shee began to sweare:
(quoth shee) thou oppressor, thy hunger still increase,
To rewarde thy wickednesse, hope not to haue release.

No sooner from the valley were we gone,
But in our eares we hearde a carefull crye,
Which sayde (alas) in Plutos kingdome none
Sustaineth halfe the plagues that I doe taste and trye,
Fie one worldely workes, fye vpon them fye.
(Quoth Morpheus) to me, make haste, we will go see,
Who it is that plaines and mones so grieuouslye.

The bookes verdite vpon Tantalus.

The monstrous Camel, that stāping beast, & eake the sluggish Asse
And Bayarde bolde, I may compare to many men alas.
VVhich with the Camell beares awaye, the massie packe of pelfe,
Yet twise as slowe as sluggish Asse, but onely for themselfe.

The lothsome loade of wished wealth, the harts hath so bewitcht:
That Iustice, friendship, pitie, and loue, away is from them twitcht.
VVith brags they bouldly leape & plunge, nothing they do mistrust:
As Baiard doeth, till at the length, to yeld to harme they must.
These Beastes mee thinke doe wel present, the qualities of such,
That with the Camel, drug and drawe, of worldlye wealth so much.
As Tantalus the Phrigion did, the Camels part that plaide.
VVhose mind frō Midas muck, in time, no counsel could haue staid.
His Beastly heart beare that away, that body nor bones could doe:
As some such Camels at these daies, are lately start vp newe.
VVithin the circuite of our soile, which members beare of men,
VVhose customes in their countrey is, to beastly now and then.
For oft their greedy paūche deuoures, their neighbors house & groūd,
Yea Pastures, Parks, whole fields, & Tounes, & al that may be found.
VVhich passeth beast, or beastly bones, of worldlinges for to beare:
Although their hearts do craue as much, as both they see and heare.
They hoke and holde, with tothe and naile, by slight of wily braine,
That which we see, each time and tide, doth waste like snow in raine.
Goodes are ill gotte, which causeth losse, of endlesse ioy and blisse,
To purchase paines, where lasting griefe, and tormente euer is.
Marke this wel you mighties whome, the Lord appointes to rule,
Lende not your eares in any wise, to Peter Pickthankes schole.
His flattering fetche doth robbe you al, of famous honour due,
VVhose painting pensels euermore, reprocheful colours hewe.
And causeth curses of the poore, whose plaints the Lord doeth heare,
Redressing streight their care & grief, throughout the earth echewhere
VThat Camell then more couetous, what Asse more dull of witte,
VVhat boulder Bayard can be found, to keepe the lothsome pitte,
Thē are these muckscrapers at these daies, that swalow vp the poore,
VVhich haue to much, yet not content, but proule for more & more?
VVhose gluttons eies are neuer filde, till gaping chappes bee full
Of suddie soile, and slimie slitche, where at this while you pulll:
And then your woeful soules bewaile, the daies your carkasse spende,
In wickednes, and neuer could finde any time to mende.
But wordes are wind, what will you more? No vertue is regarded:
Be as be maie, the daie will come, your workes will bee rewarded.

FINIS.

The rewarde of an Ambicious and vaine glorious counseller, called Vetronius Turinus: For his wicked life among them that hee might ouercome, and for his Pride: whose wordes folow in the middes of his tormentes.

Peace Tantalus hold still thy plainting chaps.
Bewaile no more thy state, thy lot is light enough,
And if thou knewe of my mischaunsed haps,
And how I am torment, within this stinking clough.
Cōtented would thou be, where now thou art not so,
And if thou felte but least of this my endles woe.

Fye of the face of fortunes smiling lookes,
Whose slye deceyte is sugred baytes to cast:
The foolishe sorte to catche vpon hir hookes,
That erste from smiling mouth, the Iudas kisse had taste.
And suche as shee hath set the hext of all,
Shee most delites to geue the greatest fall.

Who sittes so sure as in the simple seate?
Who is so Ritche, as hee that reason doth content?
Who scapes the hooke, that leapes at euery baite?
Who meddles much at last that is not shent?
Or yet who deales with craft that is not spide?
Who hath not al mens wrath, that euermore hath lide?

The sure pathe I neuer founde as yet,
Which was to set all worldly thinges at nought.
With Phaeton, I thought aboue the starres to sit,
On worldly wealth was euermore my thought.

Isiodorus.

But custome teacheth al thinges shal litle bee,
That to the show semes greate, too worldly eye.

Who dwelles in Princes fauours that knowes him selfe,
Or at the least forgettes not what he was?
Who lookes not hye, that catcheth worldly wealth,

Hermes.

Which slippes away as dewe vpon the grasse.
Fye, on it fye, it leades to endles fire,
And meare destruction bringes, on them that it desire.

But in vallyes lowe, the qiuetst dwelling is,
On loftye mountaines, the storming blast doth blowe:

Phenix.

The mounting Phenix, shall witnesse bee of this,
Who doth full well, the heartes of climbers showe.
Whose ende with her, doth meare destruction call,
Which doth from loftye skyes, belowe to ashes fal.

Who with Icarus seemes to flye a lofte,
Dr with the Pine, his fellowes ouergrowes,
That many times, with fortune is not skofte,
And with the Pine, be rente and spoilde of bowes?
Who standeth in conceyte, with folishe fonde Nessus,
That in the ende of his misfortune misses?

But what auailde the Bookes that I haue read?
The wicked ende of none, might cause mee to amende:
I sawe long syth, howe euery Tyrant spead,
By worthy writers, wose actes had Clerkly pende.
And theyr succes, that in such vice abounded,
Howe short they rainde, and were by God confounded.

But let me bee, for so I maye no doubte,
Full well be made a mirrour to each one:
That be in Princes fauour, & make them selues so stout,
(As I) vnhappy wretch, haue beene not long a gone.
I had so deepe a witte to purchase worloly wealth,
In vertue a very foole, and cleane deceiu'de my selfe.

And with these wordes his paines so much encreaste,
That worse then mad, a thousand times he flinges:
Then to the brinke of loathsome lake hee preste,
And cryed, behold, what wicked doinges bringes.
Drawe neare good Morpheus, harken what I saye,
And to thy friendes report another daye.

I was (quoth hee) aduaunste to such degree,
And in the fauour stoode, of Alexanders grace:
So much at last, that in all causes hee
Tooke mine aduise, in thinges that doubtful was.
My counsell lead him, euer as my list,
who had a sute, I not his friende, his purpose mist.

All men gaue place, when I in counsell close,
Unto this noble Emperoure, both night and day:
My fame eache howre, encreased styl and rose,
I saued whome my list, agayne I put awaye
(Whome pleased mee) and ruled mee at will,
I made both good, and bad, full glad to please mee still.

Vetronius Turinus, is my proper name,

Vetronius Turinus.

Chiefe counseller, this famous Emprour too:
Which bleard my inward eyes in tasting of the same,
I could not know my selfe, as I was wont to doe.
Such incōparable sweetnesse, is found in Princes fauor,
Whom fortune calles so high, forgets their owne behauiour.

Such hap a while exceedeth Loios taste,
Whose smatch some lickoras lips, the most doe wishe:
Yet whosoeuer to gape, therefore doth haste
Sal trye in thende, Serdonia, plaine it is.
For sweetest meates, soure sauce they saye is best,
This is, and euermore, was vsed at eache feast.

Thus I elect, and chosen chiefe of all,
In secreate familiaritie, with this noble man:
I was so pufte with pride, I did mistrust no fall,
Thus eache mans heart, through dread and feare I wan.
A while I plaide the Beare, I nipt both yong and olde,
I kept them so in awe, to barke none durst bee bolde.

Thus euery man of mee did stand in feare,
Eache one with bending knees, to use did bowe:
They honoured mee, as I the Emproure were,

I gaped for such glory, as was not meete nor dew.
Thus like a chowgh, depaint in peacoks tayles,
Amid the gulfe of Cille, I hoyst my rotten sayles.

And at the length this one thing blinded me,
When euery man my lawfull fauour sought,
Then I began to looke both stowte and hie,
I spake them fayre, when inwarde ill I thought.
Great bribes I did receyue, and made all men beleeue,
That whome my list, I coulde both gladde and grieue.

Thus ritche I made my selfe, and most men poore,
That to this noble Emproure any sute procurde:
And those of whome the Emproure made a store,
Such meanes I wrought, that long he not indurde.
And yet a greater sleyght then this I vsed long,
I dayly sought to wrest all men with wrong.

Faire wordes I fedde them with, and nothing elles,
On eyther part their money I receyued,
I eate their kirnels, and fed them with the shelles.
Who trusted me that scaped vndeceyued?
I playde the Mariner, that looketh backe and rowes,
And yet with floode, his boate contrarie flowes.

For where these suters did awayte to knowe,
By me this noble Emperour his pleasure,
Then would I nodde my head, and frindely countenaunce showe.
(As who shoulde saye) abyde a nother leysure.
Thus of the Emprours graue determination,
I made a trade as twere an occupation.

Till at the length, all men with murmuration,
Perceyuing that I fabled with them so,
With open Iawes, made open exclamation,
And earnest lookes cast on me too and fro,
Whereat report, a Poste did sende for Fame,
Which causd hir crooked Trumpets found abrode the same

Thus to this noble Princes eares at length it came,
And publisht all abroade, it was on euery side.
And of the same accusde of euery man,
That rounde about me stoode, and to the Emprour cryde:
O famous noble prince, incline thine eares to heare.
Turinus wickednesse, to thee shall now appeare.

Then all my former lyfe disclosed was,
And prooude by credible persons before my face:
When the Emperour vnderstoode both more and les,
He iudgde me to be led into the market place.
Where straungers were of countries far and nye,
Which grieude me worse, then twentie times to die.

In the market place, sometime where I with pryde,
More like a Prince then otherwise had walkd the stones
There to a stake, my limbes full fast they tyde,
With cruell engins inuented for the nonce,
Where young and olde, stoode rounde about to see,
The fall of him, which earst did looke full hie.

Then hidden malice did shewe his furious face,
Whose tongues before as sweete as suger seemde:
(And crying sayde) thou Tyraunt boyde of grace,
The proofe is plaine, it was not as thou weende,
Thou thought thou had our harts, because we capt and kneelde,
Which inwardely with spitefull hate we steelde.

Then curses blacke into the skies they sende,

His execution maketh people glad.

To all the Gods where mightie Ioue doth sitte,
That after all this shame, I might be torne and rent,
Within the puddle of Plutos stincking pitte.
And therewithall, their handes a pace they clappe,
Greene stickes and stubble, about the stake they wrap.

And fire thereto, on euery side they set,
Whose powdering smoke, mountes vp the loftie skies,
The flashing flame eche man was prone to let,

To th' ende thereby my doubled paine might rise,
Thus lingered life, with tormentes worse then death,
By meanes of smoke compelde to yelde my breath.

Whereat with gladsome heartes reioyced many a one,
Tooth' great reproche of all my bloode and line,
With hast a Bedle Themperour calde on,
And straightly chargde, about the stake that time,
To sounde these wordes in th' eares of young and olde,
VVith fumes lo here he dieth, that fumes hath euer solde.

Thus confusion my guerdon quitte ful well,
And payde my hyre which I deserued best,
The Gods also condemnde me into hell,
Among the wicked sorte with whome I am possest.
of yrkesome Stigion whereas Phlegethons flames,
The pompe of cruell Tyrauntes euer dayly tames.

Loe this the lotte of wicked life in th' ende,
Looke to your states you that Counsellors bee,
You that perswade the nobles to offende,
Leaue of betime for my rewarde you see,
Bee sure whosoeuer in wickednesse proceedes,
In thende the Gods doe recompence their deedes.

How sayst thou Morpheus hast thou hearde the like?
Whome hast thou knowne to haue a fall like mine?
Coulde Fortune worke to me a greater spite,
Then first to whirle me vp, then cast me downe in fine,
When least of all hir wrath I did mistrust?
From hext of Pelops turret no helpe but downe I must.

Thus through the coste I got eche poore mans curse,
With shamefull death, and hell at latter daye:
A deere bought treasure, thus to fill my purse,
To lose the ioyes among the Goddes for aye.
These words no sooner sayd, so much increast his pains
His tongue with ruful voyce his perfit talke constrains.

This sincke of sorrow wherein he standes and cryes,
With pitche and Brimstone boyles vp like a floode,
Where serpents with their triple heads still yelling flyes,
Whose crooked clawes are bathed in his bloode.
From out whose mouthes such foming flames arise,
Which lighteth in his face, or spowteth in his eyes.

Eche finger of his hande was turnde to ougly snakes,

A man deformed.

His teeth were chaungde to wormes Cerestres like:
His legges all serpentes, that dayly vengaunce takes,
Upon eche other, that venomly gan smite.
His toes vpon his feete, were filthie Todes to see,
That swelde with poyson as bigge as they might bee.

His heart the Captaine of his sleyghtie tongue,
Transformd in likenesse of a Hedgehogge kinde:
Before whose greedie mouth such riped fruite was hong,
As monstrous beast in hearte did wishe to finde.
Which when he toucht, they turnde to Scorpions all,
Perforce his lippes from gaping chappes lets fall.

His guilefull tongue was turnde to Crocadyle,
Amidde whose sleightie heade brast out consuming coles,
From out whose eyes fell droppes like gaddes of steele,
Wherewith sometime he trapt poore sillie soules.
And molten golde into his mouth was pourde,
Whose gasping gummes most greedely deuourde.

And yet a greater griefe then this hadde hee,
A plagie paine aboue the rest no doubt:
An horrible feend, none such in hell to see,
Before him standes, whose voyce doth roare and shoute,
What ioyes among the Gods they lose that wicked are,
This ougly Geylor to him streight did declare.

The scripture alleaged then. Psal 84. Psal. 24. Psal. 3.

And with the Psalmes began this cruell Clarke,
To taunte the torment wretche with griefe to heare,
Saying Turinus incline thine eare and harke:

I am thy Curate, thou art my Parishner.
Geue eare (quoth hee) and marke my sayinges well,
Else shal these hookes, with care thy corps compel.

And then these places of scripture straight hee reades,

Roma 8. Apoca. 22. Math. 24. 1. Thes. 4. Math. 25. Apoca. 7. Apoca. 4. Apoca. 21.

And shakes his Snakie head, with grinning teeth:
And scoffes him still, with all his olde done deedes,
That then to heare, no litle was his greefe.
And then this frouning Curate, braggingly gan boast,
And tels the wretch, what endles ioyes hee lost.

Thou hast lost (quoth hee) myrth out of measure,

Esay. 43. Esay. 1. Esay. 5. Math. 11. Iohn. 3. Iohn. 5. Luke. 5.

All libertye, all Light, all reioysing and health:
All wealth, all ioye, and glorious pleasure,
All honour, all power, al long of thy selfe.
With solace, and loue, vnitie, concorde, and peace,
Wisedom, vertuous melodye, and felicities increase.

Meekenes, and beatitude, from the is fled and gone,
And that in most glorious heauenly Citye:
Hope for no redresse, be sure heare is none,
But euer more, vnspeakeable miserye.
This Den (quoth hee), is still the place of paines,
For thee and such, of whom the poore complaines.

Nowe hast thou lost the company of Archangels,
With Thapostles, Patriarkes, and Cherubins:
Powers, Thrones, Dominions, and Aungels,
Confessors, Uirgins, Martyrs, with blessed Zeraphins.
Where righteous sprites, cease not, but alwaies sing.
Holy, Holy, Holy, God of earth, and heauen King.

And with these words, with hast hee shut the booke,
To some place else hee ranne to execute his spite:
Whereat Turine cast vp a woeful looke.
(Quoth hee) good Morpheus take foorth thy pen and write,
(Alas) regester vp my rewfull wicked ende.
It may preuent much harme, & if the same were pende.

But Morpheus casting downe his heade for woe,
Uneth one worde, coulde well pronounce almost,
But sayd, come Robinson, I praye thee let vs goe,
My heart doth warche to see this grislye ghost.
And then he wisht that all offenders see,
How Pluto doth rewarde all them that wicked bee.

And thus we left Turinus in his paines,
Whose wante of grace, we both lamented much:
And there in Iayle he shakes his lincked chaines,
Whose bandes to breake, no mortall handes may tuch.
His endlesse paines it bootes not to bewayle.
No sacrifice to Ioue, can ought at all preuayle.

The Bookes verdit.

Loe thus to see him pulde, with raging hagges of hell,
That whilom thousandes rulde, esteemd with Princes well.
I meruell in my minde, such men should plagued bee,
VVhome Fortune hath assinde, vnto such dignitie.
But now I doe perceyue, none such the Gods will spare:
That poore men doe bereaue, of money goodes or ware.
Or whome by counsell seems, to blinde their Noble eyes:
VVhose iudgements best esteemes, and quites with double fees,
Or such as sentence sel, by slye and cloked craft:
And harmelesse soules compel, a fruitelesse tree to grafte.
On these the Gods doe poure, their wrath by whole consent:
And alter in an houre, the wickeds yll intent.
Regarding not at all, their statelie hie degree:
But shortlye giue the fall to such as climbe to hie.
Turinus now hath lost his prince that lou'de him best:
And such as hate him most, ioyde thus to see him drest.
VVhat profittes blubbred teares? The Gods haue iudged thee:
How long or fewe yeres, (they know) so doe not wee.
To leaue thee in thy paines, of very force I must:
No hope but this remaines, a warning fayre I trust.

FINIS.

The wofull complaint of the monstrous Emperour Heliogabalus for spending of his dayes in abhominable whoredome.

Syth Morpheus thou art come to take the vewe
of Plutos kingdome where the wicked guerdon haue:
Of all the rest thou euer see or knewe,
I am the marke to guide the rest from scath.
Loe howe I lye, that earst did florish braue,
and yet Turinus thinkes he hath much wrong,
I heare him hither, vpon the furies raue,
yet not such cause as I, Turinus holde thy tongue.

Oh how tickle is the staye of honors hie?
what doth auaile a while to guide the earth?
Th' example plaine appeareth now by me,
an Emprour once descende of noble birth.
My triple crowne that was abundaunce worth.
my Scepture sette with Saphirs rich to see;
My sworde that helde in feare such murth,
as neuer yet was vewde by any eye.

Nor yet the sounde of great renoumed fame,
though all the worlde I helde in feare and awe,
That can excuse the least of blotted blame,
nor that the Gods at all regarde a strawe.
(No Morpheus no) who doth offende their lawe,
although he were ten times as high againe:
Upon the snap they catche him in a flawe,
their hautie maste flies ouer borde amaine.

Upon the rocke the shaken Hull is cast,
that prowdely hoyst hir sayle before on hie:
And so vnwares they perish wyth a blast,
the which before mistrusted not to die.
Then from the stincking gayle the sprite doth flee:
and as the dunghill secke, hath spent his dayes,

The sillie soule, in bale or blisse shall bee,
thus vice or vertue hath rewarde alwayes.

Unhappie wretch I was of Rome elect.
and by consent of all the rulers there,
The noble Senate chose me to protect,
but when in hande the fearefull sworde I beare,
Not onely Rome, but through the whole Empire,
I quight forgot my selfe, and place they set me in:
Then did my filthie nature straight appeere,
the hidden smoke, to flashing flames begin.

For after that I had in hande to rule,
and that my worde to lose and binde had power,
I brought the Senate to another schoole,
exalting vice much hier then Pelops tower.
The Sages graue expulsing euery houre,
new Lordes, new lawes, it did appeare by me:
Thus Rome to ruyne I brought from honour,
from vertue to vice, great shame and infamie.

Thus first of all, when I from Syria came,
to Rome to rule, and royall scepture guide:
Heliogabalus the Romaine bloode may banne,

Varius Heliogabalus.

I was a meane to laye their fame aside.
Wisdome nor vertue I neuer might abide,
In brute and beastlie toyes alwayes I dwelde.
All such as sinne correcte I did deride,
to filthie liuing a thousande I compelde.

And thus of Rome that was a mirrour cleare,
from whome at first all nations knowledge hadde,
Of honour, vertue and prowes the name did beare,
in myste of filthie slaunder by me was ladde
Whereat the prudent men wept teares full sadde,
to see the vile abuse that then I set aloft:
Uertuous Uirgins then to flie were gladde,
vnrauisht fewe scapt, that might be caught.

Insatiable was my swelling luste,
my pampered fleshe to whoredome was addicte:
I lookte on none but needes consent they must:
Loe thus (alas) with vice I was afflicte.
I woulde the mortal launce in tender youth had stickte
my wicked heart that wickednesse desired:
Then should not now no Plutos furye prickt
this soule of mine, that here in flames lyeth fyred.

If Atis chaunce betime I had sustainde,
then had I squencht the sparke that bred vnrest:
My wretched sprite, that nowe in hell is painde,
among the Gods in blisse had been possest.
Whom nowe thou seest with torments styll opprest,
and also scapte on earth, reproche and shame:
Unhappy Rome, then had thou twise been blest,
that nowe for euermore bewayles the same.

Sardanapalus the last Assirian King liued too vile a life to bee rehearsed.

The last Assirian King in filthy life,
I did exceede a thousand kinde of wayes:
All Rome throughout, I rauisht Maide and Wife,
of Uirgins euer, I made them common prayes.
Thus spent I my wicked fleshly dayes,
I made a Senate, of harlottes and baudes:
In open sight I kept no better playes,
then filthilye to vse these common Iades.

Thus houses builded I, for schooles of sin,
to ayde them with I gaue them largely treasure:
The vertuous Matrons, I pluckt them quickly in,
compelling them vnto this filthy pleasure:
(Alas, alas) I past al Godlye measure,
there was no ho, with mee: who durst denye?
But if they had, I spied such a leasure,
that from their shoulders, I made their heads to flye.

Into the handes of Bawdes, I did commit,
the greatest dignitye of the Publike weale:

To common Rybawdes, voyde of grace and witie,
I gaue aucthoritye, aswell to chose as deale.
Who had a sute to mee that did preuaile,
except in Lechery hee did exceede?
The vertuous sort were euer sure to fayle,
when as the wicked at euery turne did speede.

Luxurious meates and drinckes, I euer sought,
a thousand wayes I studyed for the same:
Upon the Publike weale the least I thought,
to labour after lust, that was my game.
If I should publishe halfe by proper name,
the life of late, I lewdlye led in sinne,
The finest head it would both tire and tame,
therfore to trouble thee, I will not nowe beginne.

What should I speake of noble famous Dukes,

It is nedefull for Princes & noble men to cal sage, wise & learned men to bee of their counsell, & such as bee Gentlemē, well brought vp.

that from the Senate, by violence I put:
Or of the sage wise Maisters, that with rebukes,
I cruellye, out of the Senate shut?
I catcht the bitter huske, and lost the pleasaunt Nut,
twoo Carters I chose to bee my counsell chiefe:
I blindlye drewe to shote at blanked But:
which was the cause at leangth of all my griefe.

Protogenes the tone of these were calde
Cordius, thother had by proper name:

Protogenes & Cordius two slaues borne.

These twoo through Rome the common wealth forstald,
to the losse of my honour, and great increase of shame.
For vice florished, and vertue waxed lame:
Vitellus in gluttony, alwayes I did exceede:

Vitellus at one supper was serued with .7 thousande fishes, and .5 thousande Fowles.

Wanton meates for the nonce, then I gan frame,
to pamper the paunche, when nature list not feede.

What should I tell of the straunge kinde of Fishes,
so rare vneth no man can knowe them well:
Which at one meale, ten thousand dishes,
with as many Fowles as doe the Fishe excell.

The like ere nowe, hath any man heard tell?
an Emperoure to leade (alas) like gluttons life?
Yong tender Maides, alwayes I did compell,
throughout Italie, with many a noble wife.

An abhominable thing and damnable.

And when I had suffisde by violence,
my filthye fleshe, yet not contented so:
I ripte theyr wombes in open audience,
theyr tender bowelles, and secreates for to shoe.
In progresse, when I did delite to goe,
with mee sixe hundreth Chariots of harlots went:
In steede of Sage, and noble counsels loe,
thus I my time in wickednesse still spent.

And such as chiefe to mee I did appoint,
and ordaine greatest rule of all to beare:
The sentence of my fame, the villans ioynt,
I innocent, the suters not the neare.
They fed me with follye they whispered in mine eare,

Zoticus.

Zoticus that varlette, a slaue and dunghill borne:
Whome of nought to noblenes, I did vp reare,
in thende rewarded mee with double scorne.

Hee playde by mee, as Turinus did before,
by noble Alexander, who guerdon gaue:
(So well) that fame, for euermore,
soundes vp his praise for quiting of that knaue.
What should I saye, it is but vaine to raue,
for in time I had no grace this to preuent:
But hee that will thus much exalt a slaue,
him selfe shalbe the first, that shall repent.

Because this varlette, Zoticus did excell
in all wicked vices most abhominable:
I preferde him to the greatest liuing that fell,
both Realmes & Kingdomes, with countreys honorable:
To no man vertuous I seemed conformable,
but onely to such as abounded in sinne:

To these and such like, I was euer tractable.
when eache man lost, these knaues did winne.

The Deuill so kindled his fire in my breast.
and fostered in mee such detestable vice:
Because Alexander was not slaine, I could not rest.
that was mine Awntes sonne both learned and wise.
To poyson him I offered, Iewelles of great price,
because my wickednesse so much hee hated:
One while treason, I conspired with spice,
in diuers drinkes and meates, his death I animated.

But nowe behold the guerdon and rewarde,
of filthy vile and detestable life:
And howe the Gods theyr seruauntes doe regarde,
defending them from murders bloody knife.
My ende ful wel, maye warne both man and wife,
for Alexander, whome I thought to kill:
Hee scapte the snare, when I began to drife,
the first I was my selfe, that in the same did spill.

For hee through vertue, wanne the noble heartes,
of thancient Senate, and commons of the same:
In whose safegarde, not one from other startes,
but with consent, togeather ioyntly frame.
And thus beganne with mee, that tragicallike game:
Tyrantes can not raigne, experience long hath taught
The Gods that suffer long, at length doe blame,
the wicked imagination, they euer bring to nought.

For by procuring Alexanders death,
I hasted mine owne to my life agreeing:
My wicked seruauntes, like Traitours false of faith,
were thonely conspiratours, and causers of my dying.
They slewe my adherentes, and put mee to flying.
my familiers a thousand wayes they kilde
Before my face. I standing by and seeing,
for life durst not speake, but as a coward yeeld.

Semhemira his mother a vicious woman.

But how I yeelded, it's shame to make relation,
I fled into a priuie, and there was take,
My mother murdered on the same sorte and fashion,
Our funeralles togither, amidde that dounge we make.
Loe my rewarde for filthy whoredomes sake.
The Gods forget me not, they quitte me home:
They cast me headelong into this fiery lake,
vpon the earth for aye good fame is gone.

(Alas) Morpheus yet thou knowst not all,
I praye thee bide a while and heare the rest,
I am sure as yet, thou neuer hearde like fall,
of noble birth, hatcht in so high a nest.
But what preuailes where vice is so possest.
A while I rulde, and tumbled in my sinne:
I wanted nothing, that mostrous life request,
of feare I frustrate was, I dred not God a pin.

Therefore mine odious corps throughout the Citie,
with hookes they drewe, both vp and downe the streetes
With ordure fylde, no man of me had pitie,
haulters of hempe were both our winding sheetes,
Fie on him villaine, they skrickt & cryde like sprites,
with clapping handes eche one reioyst to see,
With wordes of great reproche the furies had delites,
my olde deserued deedes to wreake on mee.

Then to the common Iakes they dregged mee,
at the filthiest conduict downe they woulde me cast,
But that it was to narrow, at least by fingers three,
or else I had bene shrinde within that dongue at last.
But then tyed to a mightie mylstone full fast,
into the floode of Tiber was I throwne:
Where many a worthy shippe hath past,
the tumbling streams was made my tumbe and throne.

Loe Morpheus loe, thus was I seru'de of such,
that earst from naught to Princes mates I brought:

Beholde theyr actes, to whome I gaue so much,
aboue the rest, my misaduentures sought:
But alas, the ende of wickednesse is naught,
the Gods alwayes, take vengeaunce at the length:
I thought I should the fixed starres haue raught.
but yet abated was my hawtye heart and strength.

At the age of one and twentye yeeres I dyed,
and monstrous Heliogabalus they calde my name:
To my reproche, report the same hath cryed,
who heard therof, that made not sport and game?
And looke who leades my life, shal euer tast the same,
vtter confusion, hasteth for his praye:
Perdurable mischiefe, comes after fast with shame,
and makes theyr pasporte at the latter daye.

But Morpheus, to tell thee all my beastly actes,
an hundreth Clarkes were not able to pen them:
And againe whosoeuer should heare of like factes,
so detestable they are, it would but offend them.
But I praye thee warne thy friendes to amend them,
my gilte thou hast hard, my paines thou dost see:
To repent betime, I praye God to send them,
for be sure wicked deedes, are rewarded wickedly.

Bid them flye whoredome, and vile vicious deedes,
they are sure to loase Gods Kingdome for euer:
Honest men doe hate them, as nettles or weedes,
but shame and ill report leaueth them neuer.
At length theyr owne Minions doe seeke theyr decaye,
on whome pursues death, of life the bereuer:
Which makes an end of beggery, cōmitting hell the pray,
if they in wickednesse, vnto the ende perseuer.

And with these wordes this wicked wretche,
among his tormentes, was toyled so sore,
With a pitifull lookes, his hande forth did stretche,
as who saye a dewe, I can speake no more.

His mother in a flaming puddle began to roare,
eche Deuill put in vse his terrible trade:
With greater spite then accustomed before,
to terrible to heare the noyse that then they made.

This monstrous Emperour in hell thus stoode,
tyed fast by the members on a snakie wheele:
Which ran about as if it were woode,
Invironde with Bawdes as blacke as the De'yle
Hooked for the nonce with hote glowing steele,
which Butchered his bowels about his feete:
And for to rewarde his wickednesse weele,
Thinfernall fire, streight way they beyte.

Whereat anone such smoke there doth arise,
with leade that boyles, in stormes like raging seas,
And with a twinche, a thousande Dragons flyes,
ten times as fast as snowe in windie dayes.
Grypes as greedie as Woolues that seeke their prayes,
and on him gnawe, that myser tyed full fast:
The cruell wheele doth bounse, and neuer stayes,
Loe, thus his paines for euer more doth last.

And thus we left this wretch (that dwels in endlesse pain)
A number for to vewe, that crying did complaine.

The Bookes verdit.

When filthie lust doth guide, and hath the helme in fist:
Beware the winde and tyde, take heede of had I wist.
A wilfull mate is hee, for to direct the waye:
He doubtes no perill nie, in sayling on the sea.
But hoyse aloft he cries, it blowes a merie blast:
And so at randome flies, while youthfull life will last.
At Caphars lampe they runne, with hoysed sayle amaine:
VVhich seemeth like the Sunne, in sight of feeble braine.
A stale that leades the way, to Scyllas sandy cost:
VVhich drinketh euery day, their blood through folly lost
Caribdes greedie Iawes, lye gaping euerie houre:
And whom shee catcheth in hir clawes, shee spares not to deuoure.
But loe the prancke of pride, and race that rudenesse runnes:
The ende of wanton workes are spide, se how destruction comes,
Marke rushing youth, how vaine he spendes his retchelesse dayes:
Note well how pleasure breedeth paine, a thowsande kinde of wayes.
If puffing pompe with golde, might ease this Princes paine:
Or force of armed champions bolde, could helpe his griefe againe
Then all his scrikes and cryes, had quite bene husht and stilde:
So had his eares and eyes, with worldlie workes beene filde.
If I shoulde make rehearse, what his offences were:
Although in prose or verse, it woulde corrupt the eare.
The Gods abhorde his dayes, the worlde doth sounde his shame:
And vengaunce vengaunce manie wayes, agreeth to the same?
VVhat profites now his sporte, wherein he playde the beast,
VVith all his bawdes resorte, or eke his gluttons feast.
VVhat now auailes his crowne, with precious stones beset?
Or and he had as great renowne, as mortall man might get.
Sith mighties know not when, the Goddes will knocke and call,
No more then other poorest men, that simplest be of all,
Therefore looke well about, keepe filthie lust away:
Beware I say the hidden doubt, that lyes in secret sea.
Let vertue guide the helme, and wisdome hoyse the sayle:
So shal you voyde the daūgers great, that might your voyage quayle.

FINIS.

The two Iudges for slaundering of Susanna: and bearing false witnesse against hir, be rewarded for the same most terribly.

Fyrst to this place when happed vs to hytte,
A roome we founde where best we myght beholde
Of euery side that stinking Stygion pitte,
That all the rest excelde a thousande folde,
Stuft full to'th top it was of young and olde,
(But as I sayde before) a couple there we see,
Whose tongues behind were halde with hookes full hie.

Before their faces with trumpet hoarse and dimme,
To powting mouth a monster fell doth set,
Whose voyce increaseth care that be the hearing in,
With foming iawe, his teeth beginnes to whet.
His gloring eyes with sparkes of fire fret,
He casteth vnder clowdes, and stints his trumpet streite,
And with a ratling speech declares these words on heite.

(Quoth he) sith slaunder is committed to my charge,
And that it pleaseth Pluto my seruice to accept,
Within this pitte mine office wide and large,
His lawes and statutes streight shall be full truely kept.
And there withall aloft anon he lept,
From the gibbet cuts their tongues wherby they hange,
And like a madde man in a rage into a furnasse flange.

Where molten brasse doth boyle as redde as gleedes,
Iblende with sulfer, pitche and stincking tarre,
And scaldes the scoffered tongues that wounded bleedes.
whose fyring streame may well be spied a farre,
From bottome low which mounth from height to harre.

And dims the christall skies, & beames of glering light,
But that we stoode so nie else had we lost the sight.

Tartarus hath this pitte to proper name,
Which is in hell most yrksome place indeede,

Tartarus.

And is appoynted wicked tongues to tame,
That doe delight in sclaunders to proceede,
Who brueth bate that well doth after speede?
Who staines the vertuous man by false surmised way,
That in the ende least pennie doth not paye?

For mightie Ioue that doth in heauens sitte,
To forge commaundes Vulcanus fast to hye,
Newe thundring boltes to make for euery pitte,
Whereas these slaundrous wretched verlettes lie.
Who many thousands wrought, and downe sende by & by,
Which boltes the cruell Iaylor in sturdy Bow doth set,
And cruelly flinges, with heades full sharpe iwhet.

Into the mouth and through the tongues they flie,
Of eyther of these lyther slaunderous mates:
Where as consuming coales as red as serpents eye,
Doe euer lodge as porters of the gates,
Two serpentes euer sate vpon their pelled pates.
And euer through the skull they pell the braine,
Yet alwayes as it wasted it still increast againe.

In shooting thunderboltes and arrowes as I saide,
At these false accusers, and breeders of vnrest,
That ougly Geylor chaunst holde vp his heade,
And Morpheus spide, whome then he did request,
To come and see how lyers there were drest.
For this the place (quod hee) that slaunder doth reward,
Though many thousandes not the same regard.

And then with filthy forke their iawes abroade he set,
Within whose mouthes were broodes of scorpions hatcht,
Whose hunger not slackt but they might alwayes get

Some part of wicked lime, thus at his tongue they snatch:
And yet it doth encrease, their greedie guttes to hatche.
Yet they bee neuer filde, nor hee consumde no deale,
Loe, thus they taste of woe, that sclanderous lyes do tel.

I saye come neare, this Iayler sayd againe,
And what thou seest among thy friendes report:
Though sclaunder bee torment with double paine,
Yet euery daye thou seest I haue resorte:
No doubte I trowe, they thinke it but a sporte.
For els theyr tongues from lyes they would applie,
To mightie Ioue they ought for mercye crye.

For if they doe not mende in haste, bee sure
I will mine office yeeld (quoth hee) no doubte:
Elles a larger dominion, I meane for to procure,
For this is full you see, already round about:
And now such sclanderers come, that bee so stout
And with so Clarkly cunning, their matter forge & fain,
That certainely I can yeeld them equal paine.

But chiefly who be these (quod Morpheus) would I know
That thus aboue the rest, so cruelly bee vsed?
(Quoth hee) twoo Iudges in Israell long agoe,
That sclandered Susanna, whome they would abused,
By fleshly deedes they thought to haue misused,
This vertuous wife and noble worthy Dame,
Whom when she would not, accusde her with the same.

But bide a while (quoth hee) them selues shal make report,
And when thou hearest them, Iudge as thou thinkest best:
And with these wordes out of that filthy sort,
With crooked hooke, hee halde them by the breast:
Whome when I vewed, with hande my selfe I blest.
If I should tell of their deformed lookes,
The rediest tongue, would tyre to reade the Bookes.

When vp they cast their eyes, & Morpheus there behelde,

With woefulste looke, that euer eye did vewe:

Daniel. 13.

For very sorrow with whorsy noise they yelde,
And crying sayde, oh happy dayes adewe.
Woe worth the daye alas, that Father vs begot,
And cursed bee our byrth, our mother slewe vs not.

Wee twoo in Israel whilome Iudges were,
That al thing rulde among the Iewishe Nation:
In Babilon one Ioachim, dwelling there,
And then among the Iewes in mighty estimation,
By meanes whereof to our contentation,
No house so fitte as his, for vs to lye and bee,
Of whome againe no man more glad then hee.

Which Ioachim one Susanna tooke to wife,
The onely Daughter of Helchia Iust:
That liued chaste and vertuous all her life,
Who in the Lorde did euer put her trust:
Whose ardent beawty, styrred vp our lust
So flamingly that like a gleyde wee broild,
This noble Dames chaste life to haue defilde.

As in the thirteenth of Daniel, there it doth appeare,

Daniel. 13.

What sleyght wee vsed burning in her loue:
To come by our purpose, wee brought her in dispayre,
For thus wee sweare by al the Gods aboue:
Except shee did consent that shee should hastely proue,
For that wee had her there, we sayde wee would accuse her
In filthy fornication we found aman abuse her.

Wee stealing in before the Orcharde doores were bard,
The rather then wee thought our purpose to haue had:
But naked though shee stoode our talke shee not regarde,
O Lorde (quoth shee) nowe am I hard bee stad:
Alas shee sayd, these ylles are bothe twoo bad.
Yet had I rather byde these Tyrants accusation,
Then for to yeelde and worke abhomination.

Which when we saw with open mouthes we cryed,
Fye vpon this woman, an adulteresse (quod we)
At the which al the seruauntes hasted fast and hyed,
And vp they brake the doores, and in with speede they flee:
Wee accusing her, reported this wee see.
Wherat the seruants sad, made sorrow for the same,
For why before, no man could staine her name.

Upon the morrowe before the elders all,
Wee falselye did accuse her there, vpon the same:
But shee in prayer, vpon her knees did fall,
And calde vpon the Lord, in praysing of his name:
Whose eares heard wel her plaint: for shee from shame,
By God deliuered was: and wee to thraldome brought,
The same wee had, as wee this Lady thought.

For by an Infauntes mouth, sturde vp by God,
The verye truth of all our thoughtes reuealde:
And in a worthy sentence, divulgate al abroade,
So that there was no Iote nor title once concealde:
And that wee both, sith then haue sore bewailde.
Daniel was his name, the Prophete of the Lord,
That sau'de his seruaunt, according to his worde.

And thus wee were reprooued of our false intent,
Susanna, set at libertye with ioye and triple praise:
Daniel vpon vs, gaue his cruel iudgement,
Loe, thus at mischiefe ended wee our dayes:
The Gods condempne vs, heare to lye alwayes.
In paines perpetuall, whose endles woe no tongue
Is able to describe, that wee haue suffered long.

And world with worlds, withouten ende and ends,
Shall here bewaile our wilfull sclaunderous tongues:
And yet on earth are some that in the same offendes,
And thinke the Gods forget, because they suffer long:
(No no Morpheus) they doe reuenge eache wrong.
And sclaunder scapeth not, but heare is double quitte.
Bee iudge, that seest vs thus tormented in this pitte.

This odious vale throughout thou shalt not see,
The like to vs, our plagues so faste increase:
Wishe al thy friendes therefore, like sclander for to flee,
For heare theyr paines loe, neuer haue release.
Crye therfore betime, their tongues from sclander ceasse.
He that from one or other theyr honest name doth take,
Before the Gods a great offence doth make.

For wee vnhappy wretches so much desired,
To haue the vse of this sayd noble Dame:
That like a gleide our inward sprites were fyred,
Our purpose to obtaine, wee forst no sinne nor shame:
But when wee were denied, wee falsely layde the blame
Upon that vertuous wight, that neuer did offend,
For our reward therefore behold the ende.

Some thinke theyr heeles be hoist, where head shall neuer come,
Whose eyes be bleard in glory vaine & valde,
And in theyr doultes conceyts, they thinke to geue ye dome,
Where they were neuer yet to counsel calde,
Whose purpose miste, theyr wilful blood doe scalde.
Theyr Lordly heartes mand vp with beggers purse,
Doth worke the thing which afterward they curse.

But yet at mischiefe the sclandering tongue doth ende,
The proofe is plaine, if grace might guide the way:
The Gods doe still theyr seruauntes true defende,
The wicked man doth euer lose his praye:
And in his pride comes sonest to decaye.
Hee falleth through his owne imagination,
As here by vs the ende doth make probation.

O sclaunder, sclander, alas, woe worth the time,
That euer wee from hateful heart let flee:
By trifling tongue, those wicked dartes of thine,
To wounde theyr states that liued vertuouslye.
Take heede therefore al you that sclaunderers bee.
Though our faulte therfore with you bee not regarded,
Assure you yet, with vs you are rewarded.

And with these wordes the cruell Iaylor straight,
With horrible gromeling noyse his trumpet soundes:
Where at like Cadmus seede they brawle and fight,
With crooked hookes eche one an other woundes.
To whome comes Alecto and scowling frownes,
With greater plagues for to rewarde these lyers,
And with hir breath settes all on flaming fiers.

Whereas I blest me to beholde their paines,
Rauisht of my witte almost, I went awaye.
Then when I thought how many here remaines,
Which practise nothing more then slaunder night & daye:
Thought I tis best from slaunder that you staye.
Accuse not true Susanna, the Lorde protects hir still,
His seruaunt he defends and you shal want your will.

Away (quod Morpheus) I heare a meruels crye,
It seemes not farre, I wonder what it is:
With seeking vp and downe, at length did there espie,
A nother was rewarded for his wickednesse,
I long (quoth Morpheus) to know what noyse is this,
And so we stayde, whereas we heard one saye,
Lo wicked men your iust rewarde for aye.

The Aucthor to the twoo Iudges.

Whose tongue hath beene defylde with slaunders heretofore,
That humbly weepes not like a chyld, with great repēting sore.
O wicked wretches fye, your Guerdon now is quit:
In Tartarus loe where you lie, that did in iudgement sit
Take heede you boasting blabbes, that Innocentes defyle:
You shall be whipt with cruell roddes, within this little while.
VVhat sinfull deede is this, that woman to accuse,
That neuer yet was knowne amisse, hir body to abuse?
Howe dare you be so bolde, your neyghbors for to spoyle,
Of greater treasure then of golde, or fieldes of fertill soyle?

The mountes of Mydas pelfe, no crownes that Princes were:
Nor yet king Alexanders welth, to sell not halfe so deare
As is the honest name, whome euill tongues deuoure,
Er now, that neuer yerned blame, are blotted in an houre.
But you that slaunderers bee, to minde Susanna call:
And prayse the Lorde, so shall you see Gods vengaunce on them fall.
For Jacob was accusde, poore man that thought none ill:
Alas how long hath spite bene vsde, of them that want their will?
The slaundering tongue is such, if thought doe wag awry:
To winne the wager heele not grutche, thus to proclayme and cry:
That this or that I might, and will, and pleaseth mee:
And thu. I ought to haue of right, and sweres it so to bee.
Thus haue I done sayth hee, when truth is nothing so:
Or else he sayth that this I see, to worke the parties wo.
And thus accused are, it pitieth me to heare,
Susannas that be guiltlesse, a thousande in a yeare.
Therefore you filthie Iudges your ende I ioye to see:
Now lye without refuge in hell eternallie.
You sprang of Cadmus seede, your nature plaine doth sho:
But yet the Goddes at length doe weede, all such his seruauntes fro.
VVith Joachim I doe reioyce, Susanna thus to see
Elected by Goddes holie voyce, with Aungels for to bee.

Pope Ihoan rewarded for hir wickednesse.

The time that mortall men doe here abide,
Within this worlde that lasteth not an houre:
If fortune chaunce to smile vpon their side,
Then still they striue from har to higher power.
Content with present state not one there liues,
But such as shoulde liue best, the worst example giues.

Much woulde haue more, the proverbe olde doth say,
Tis true indeede, much no man doth content:
For more and more all men doe gape eche daye,

They thinke the worlde will last and not be spent.
Oh very fooles, deceyued foule ye bee:
If happe be on your sides example take by mee.

To know my life, and what I was sometime,
Who liues and sees me lie amiddes this endelesse wo,
That woulde not doubt the like rewarde in fine,
That I deserued iustly long ago?
I must confesse my paine to little is,
Though twentie times it were much worse then this.

Harke what I say the stoutst among you all,
Who sitteth hext that hath not cause to feare?
Some blast doth blow that giues the grieuous fall,
Its often seene euen once in twentie yere,
Though Fortune hoyse the seates of some aloft,
Yet shee delightes to cast them downe as ofte.

Nothing more brittle is then state of man,
Both night and day experience doth appeere:
Yet notwithstanding, who doe not what they can,
To liue like Goddes as long as they be heere?
Though time do teache, al thinges begunne must ende
No mendement yet I see of such as doe offende.

Except the Gods they thought for to displace,
From out their seates wherein they sitte on hie:
Or that from Ioue for to dispose the mace,
Wherewith hee rules the earth and all the skie:
Else wot I not what all this mischiefe meanes,
For Codrus lou'de of Gods, ritch men disdains.

On heapes to Pluto headlong here they runne,
Hell scarse is able the halfe part to holde:
The father is torment for wronging of his sonne,
And eke the sonne for like in triple folde.
The mother for the daughter sustaines wo:
The daughter for the mother, and many other mo.

But how happie be they that welth do not taste,
And that with pouertie yelde thankes to the Gods?
No doubt aboue the starres all such men are plaste,
They be not scourged nor whipped with our roddes.
Therefore by our harmes learne to be warned,
Else shall you be sure with vs to be charmed.

At the which wordes then Morpheus alofte did call,
What art thou (quod he) tell me thy name streight way?
(Shee aunswered) and sayde: euen so with speede I shall,
If it please thee here a while to bide and stay.
And if it be not long I am content (quoth he)
And so with woful plainte these wordes declared she.

O Morpheus Morpheus I am that wofull wight,

His words spoken to Morqheus

That once did sitte in Peters seate and place:
A man I seemde to be alas in all mens sight,
And yet a wicked woman the lesse my grace.
I did take vpon me the Gospell for to guide,
Yet contrarie both I and mine did liue besyde.

And Iohan was I calde, and of my birth a Citie,
Named Maience tooke hir proper name:
Brought vp in learned scooles the more great pitie,
That grace had not beene lincked to the same.
Learning I loued of all ritchesse vnder heauen,
Till I conquered the knowledge of Sciences seauen.

I refused my countrie and frindes euery one,
Many a Prouince I trauaylde to and fro,
Better learned then my selfe I met not with one,
Of what estate or degree he were, high or loe.
And in all these places where euer I came,
I was thought among the people to be a very man.

In Englande once I was the countrey to peruse,
From thence to Roome I did returne with speede,
Within the which I did no deale refuse,

Gramer, Sophistry, Logike, and Rethorike, for to reade.
My fellowe not founde, so ready was my braine,
Nothing wanted Morpheus, but grace I tel thee plaine.

In Lotaries time, that Emperour was then,
After the death of Leo by full election,
I was chosen for my wisedome aboue al men,
To haue the Papall dignitye in my protection.
And so was made Pope, and ruled as my lyst,
Tyll my abhomination accusde mee or I wist.

For hauing at my wyll what harte could best thinke,
And ruling as it were all men as pleased mee:
Then layde I away both Booke, Pen, and Inke,
The swelling fleshe with them could not agree.
I spared neyther Cardinal Bishop, Munke nor Frier,
To fulfil my desire, I past not who they were.

Tyll at the last I chaunsed great with Childe,
At Saint Iohns Laterans deliuered was I:
And thus the Seate of Peter by mee was defilde,
Alas therefore full oft to late I crye.
Afterwarde deposed I was, and so put downe,
And begged my bread both in Countrey and Towne.

At this filthye acte the Gods were offended,
And sente mee to Pluto, his Iudgement to trye:
Out of all the Heauens I was then suspended,
And heare am adlotted in paines still to lye,
Loe, nowe thou knowest both the cause and my name,
Therefore I pray thee warne thy friendes of the same.

Tell women, that haue fine pollytike wittes,
That except they dread the Gods with honour due:
Whome Fortune hexte of all, with Scepture hits,
The hurtfull fall be they sure doth ensue.
Although her nature bee sometime to smile,
It's best yet take heede shee winke them not a wile.

From valley lowe, when Titan mounts the Hilles,
Hee doth dismount as fast as rise before:
The Phenix scaling skies with singed quilles,
Turnes to the Earth againe, what needeth more?
For fluddes that rise, when at the hexte they bee,
Doe fall as fast againe, the proofe we see.

And finallye, will euerye kinde of wight,
As well as women them selues, to knowe and see:
And that in time of wealth, they set theyr sight
To vewe what such doe wante that simpler bee.
Their goodes and Landes with state of noble raine.
Bewty, Youth, and al thinges els, shall shrinke againe.

You knowe the nine worthies lasted but a time,
The monstrous mountes do waste and weare awaye:
Then what is it that is made of sliche and slime,
That can vpon the earth long stand or staye?
All is but fleshe which wasteth like the snowe,
When life shall part, the wisest doth not knowe.

Now alas, sith the world is thus vnsure,
And fleshe so fraile, what fooles bee mortall men:
That haue such hope in that for to endure,
That straight shall slip awaye they know not when?
What gaines get they that winne a litle pelfe,
For which the Gods at last condempne him selfe?

These wordes thus sayde, the rage of furious hell,
With new inuented miseries gan then to increase:
That very woe and sorrowe did compell,
This newe founde Pope from further talke to cease.
Within my secreate hart, I pitied much her case,
Bicause shee was a woman, and had so litle grace.

But then to see the great Souseheaded Friars,
With Iommarnold Muncks, on heapes how fast they fel,
Beside platterfasde Abbots, & Priests with pricke eares:

Howe busie they were it passeth tongue to tell.
I thinke they sang for they gaped so wide,
That to heare theyr seruice I might not abide.

Eache nowke was full of Nunnes, as busye as the best,
Properly apparelled like newe fashioned Players:
Prating Pardoners, were Cookes of the Feast,
Whose scullions were a number of beastly Southsaiers.
Euery one occupied, not one of them was idle,
But neyther with Testament nor with Sacred Bible.

At length they fell out what so euer was the matter,
They fought with Sensars, and holy water Cans:
Great Beades about eache others face they clatter,
I litle thought they had beene such men of theyr hands.
We saw them so disquiet, we stoode from them afarre,
For feare of blowes before that wee were warre.

I sawe no man there that seemde to make peace,
The like maistries at Olimpus, were neuer so made:
Thicke and threefold on heapes they lye like Beastes,
Theyr nayles were so long no man calde for a blade.
Thus violently they disguised one of them the other,
In such fury, that the son tormented his owne Mother.

It was a wonder to mee verye straunge,
To see what May games they made in that pitte:
Like Maisters of Fence (great stroakes they did chaunge
One with another) starke madde out of witte.
A maruailous Musicke, a prayer most painfull,
Among Christian people nothing more dainfull.

Whereat (quod Morpheus) looking on mee,
Doest thou behold (quoth hee) what miserye is here,
And what presumption in some women may bee,
And howe to come by theyr purpose, full litle they feare?
But what mischiefe is this, heare for to finde,
These Popes & these prelates ye to preach were assinde?

These are they which beare the world in hand,
That in heauen and hell, they had euermore power:
(As they sayde) so it was, and with God did stande,
Out of hell to fetche thousandes of soules in one hower.
And no worde true all was fables and lyes.
With false Doctrine and Idolatry the blearid our eyes.

These are the Bellye Gods, that outward did appeare,
To bee most holye, and iust alway in theyr liuing:
Which before God very Ipocrites were,
And liu'de like brute Beasts, without any thanks geuing,
They pleade a Priuiledge, to doe what theyr lyst,
As if hell and Heauen were both in theyr fist.

And thus wee departed and left the new found Pope,
With her Colledge of Cardinals, and other her mates:
At hext of theyr seruice without vestment or Cope,
With nailes large and long, they bispte each others pates.
So downe the dales, wee drewe to beholde,
The manifold mischiefe among yong and olde.

Whome then to see through many a knaggy crust,
And brethles blast, with stormes as Rasor kene:
And scaping dartes all redde with cankred rust,
Wee passed through, of any one not seene.
Yet by the way a thousand sightes we see,
Of which to thinke, full ofte it greeueth mee.

Tyll at the laste, wee drewe vnto the place,
And hurtfull hole in cruell Stigion lake:
Whereas wee heard a man bewaile his case.
No pained soule, might greater sorrow make.
These wordes me thought, the wofull wretch did crye,
Come see (alas alas) the tormentes where wee lye.

FINIS.

Newes betwene the Pope and Pluto, and of the Proclamation about the Ladder twixt Hell and Heauen.

Thus leauing Helen in endlesse woe and paine,
Through yrkesome vale from crag to crag we crept:
Tormented sprites we hearde of eche side plaine,
Thousandes thousandes, schryking cryed and wept,
Linckt fast in chaynes, with cruell Keepers kept.
Whose name and actes we listed not to craue,
But passed foorth to vewe the monstrous caue.

Till at the length to a steepe and hawtie hill,

Sisiphus for his desolute and vicious liuing.

We chaunst to come whereas me thought I see,
One rowling vp a stone that tumbleth on him still.
Thus night and daye from toyling rests not hee.
Also Duke Theseus for his tirannye,
Bitten with Uipers and torne with Toades in sunder,
In a pitte or puddle, that belched light and thunder.

Eneas following Sibil rounde about that denne,
Up hill from crag to crooked Torre he runnes,
His wandering limmes still treades the filthie fenne,
In hope to haue in sight that alwayes shunnes.
Also women drewe water in buckets that runnes.
With very manye mo to long to name,
As then me thought had plagues much like the same.

But as wee went mee thought I sawe a glade,

There are moe wayes to hell then one.

That made a shoe as it a passage were,
Which was in deede of very purpose made,
From thence to Rome erectes a mightie stere.
And Gorgon with a Clubbe was Porter there,

This is the waye frō Rome to Pluto.

Except from Rome, in, there he might not passe,
Or else some suche as trusted in the Masse.

This way passe soules from paines to endelesse blisse,

The waye that soules passe thorowe betwene heauē and hel.

When please the Pope to sende his letters thither,
Morpheus and I experience saw of this,
The Popes man and wee met altogither,
Who brought Pardons packt vp in a bouget of lether.
Besides letters that to Pluto then he deliuered,
On the which Pluto looked, perusde, and considered.

Where vpon Pluto his counsell calde straight,
A filthie heape of crooked noble states,
To here their mindes because it was of weight,
To gratifie the Pope and all his holye mates,
Sende for the messenger, and so these wordes debates.
My friende (quoth hee) tha'rt welcome to this place,
So are they all that loue thy maysters grace.

But by the floodes of dreadfull flaming Styx,
The newes thy maister writtes doe grieue my guttes ful sore,
For reuenge, these clawes as sharpe as thornie prickes,
Shall tosse and teare the sprites of many a score,
(Ah worthy Pope) thy decay I much deplore.
A Cater for my Kitchine, prouider of the praye,
What meruell though I curse the cause of thy decaye?

And with these wordes his scowling face lets poure,
The gushing floodes and spowtes of fier red,
He gnasht his teeth and gan to glowte full soure,
With belching breath, to'th messenger thus sayde:
Take here an aunswere vnto my supreme heade.
(Byd him be merye) I shall assistaunce sende,
To taxe all suche, as with him doe contende.

With a romishe thankes, the messenger packeth,
Charged with the letters that Pluto doth sende,
Poste horses by commission in eache place he taketh,
Untill he ariued at the stayers ende,

Whereas from Lymbo to Roome he should ascende,
Being a lustie Lurdaine a Fryer of Saint Fraunces,
Twixt Rome and hel from steppe to steppe he daunces.

Thus the Fryer fled we hearde no more of him,
But straight on a stage a Trumpet sounded was,
Wherevnto assembled such soules as for sinne,
Were sent by the Pope to be punisht alas,
Who thought to be pardoned by vertue of the masse.
Else hoping to heare of the Popes comming thither,
Then thinking to be releast from thence altogither.

When silence was made with much a doe,
This yll faste Herraulde these wordes then declared:
That many men to the Pope were vntrue,
And their large offrings and deuotions nowe spared,
For to come to God other meanes they prepared.
Hauing no trust in the Pope nor his traditions,
But cal him the Captaine of Idolatrous superstitions.

To our Prince Pluto his letters doe declare,
That toward the North Pole Gods word is so embraste:
That no man for pardons will giue mony nor ware,
(In Englande especially) he is vtterly disgraste.
Except among a fewe here and there that are plaste.
That with their friendes in nowkes and odde holes,
Sing a masse of Requiem for al christian soules.

Which is to no purpose the money being gone,
That maintayned his grace and all his whole rowte,
His Cardinals, his Abbottes, his Friers, with sir Iohn,
His Nunnes, and his Ancrees, and all be thrust out,
His Pardnors go begging and wandring about.
The shauelings be shronken that once bare the swaye,
Their credite and customes be runne to decaye.

And Boner that bolstred the beames of his glorie,
Lyeth Sunke in the sandes that onse beare the blade:

That many a Christian therewith made full sorie,
A while in Christes Uineyarde he cut a great glade,
And stoute Storie that all the sturre made.

Storie Gardines. Fecknam.

Gardiner is wanting that was the blood letter,
And Fecknam is fast that was the clocke setter.

Besyde an infinite number within that same Ile,
That now be decayed and worne out of minde:
Banisht is Babilon that florisht ere while,
And the way to Ierusalem by the Gospell they finde
The Pope they repute to be a guide blinde.
They passe not a pin, for his blessinges nor curses,
Let him saye what he will, they holde fast their purses.

And in place of his friendes are starte vp his foes,
And one cruell Captaine that workes all the griefe,
A Iewell of Christ Iesus gaue Harding the bloes,

Iuell. Harding.

Confuting his fables in spite of his teeth,
Hee feedes the poore flocke with Christian beleefe.
Squencht is the confidence I say of our Harding,
Thers none young nor olde that esteemes him a farding.

One Barthlet wee may ban throughout this whole vale:
And so may the Pope with Candle, Booke and Bell,
In the Papall pedigrewe, hee tels such a tale,
That all Romish Roges may rore to heare tell,
That Christians had knowledge of the trumprye they seu.
For he tippes vp the sacke, and all poureth out,
From the first to the last, he rappes the whole route.

(This and much more) being the iust cause,
Of the Popes great plague and miserable want:
(I meane of money) to maintaine his lawes,
Perforce must perswade you, that here make your plaint,
Considering Gods worde hath him on the tainte.
You wofull soules that in Purgatorie lye,
Must yet here remaine there is good cause why.

(Which is this) you know the Pope hath been at cost,
To found betwixt Pluto and Rome these stayres:
And nowe it is like, that his labour is lost,
Because that his customes and credite thus weares:
Yet hee hath set Priests, Munkes, Nunnes, and Friers.
And the rest of his Rable in hande for to make,
A Ladder to reache into Heauen for your sake.

The building of the Lader and the timber with the workmen.

And vp it was reared, yeares long a goe,
And well vnderset with Dyrges and Masses:
With Popishe Props, thousandes on a roe,
As Pardons, Buls, Idols, Holy water, and Ashes:
Palmes, and holy Bread, and many olde Trashes,
Lampes, Lightes, Crossing and Creeping,
And all to redresse your pitifull weeping.

Singing, and Ringing, with Belles euery where,
Sensing, and Fensing with Booke Bell and Candle:
Cursing, and Praying, of Muncke, Nun, and Frier,
Night, daye and hower, al thing for to handle:
Like workemen worthy, not bunglers to Scamble.
A building to bolte so hye in the skyes,
doth craue Cunning workemen, and such as are wise.

The cause of the fall thereof.

But loe (alas) the Popes willing minde,
For money to release you of these bitter paines:
So many thousandes stroue this Ladder to climbe,
That you mist the Heauen, and hee his great gaines:
For bending it brake, with waight of your Chaines.
By meanes whereof, therein, who put trust,
World without ende, remaine heere they must.

The tormented soules perswaded to dwell foreuer in paines.

And too short it was, by full ten degrees,
And neuer could reach Gods glorye and blisse:
Although hee, and his, were as busie as Bees,
In thende it woulde haue prouided but this:
Wherefore bee contented no remeedye is,

Tyl the Ladder bee mended, hence to dispatche yee,
Or els that the Pope, come him selfe for to fetch yee.

The Gospell of Christ, hath throughly confounded,
Not onely this Ladder, of the Popes owne deuice:
But also destroyde al them that first founded
The painted helles, and paper Paradice:
Heare among vs, they shall playe theyr Price.
Theyr stinking Idolatrye, and vile Superstition,
As holye as they bee, heare findes no remission.

Therefore it is Pultos pleasure that you knowe,
What fortune hath hapned, your Father the Pope:
Hee him selfe to Heauen, is not able to goe,
Except Saint Peter, hale him vp in a Roape:
Or that hee chaunse to bee pulde by his Coape,
By our Lady of Walsingham, & sweet Roode of Chester
Else his porcion in Heauen, is scant worth a Testar.

These wordes being saide, hee dismounteth the stage,
Saying, vengeance, and torment, protect Plutos grace:
At the which cryed out with terrible rage,
Both yong and olde that were in that place:
A sight to sorrowfull, in beholding theyr case.
(I meane) of al such, as put trust in the Masse,
These Newes made theyr torments much worse then it was.

To see the sorrowfull sort hale one another,
Crying out on the Popes, and his shauelinges there:
The Father, the Sonne, the Daughter, the Mother,
The Uncle, the Aunte, and Grandsier appeare:
To the ninthe degree, thousandes there were
Both Ritch and Poore, that trusted to the Masse,
Not one of them all, but I am sure there hee was.

Some cryde fye of Idols, and some of holye water,
Some of Supersticion, and some of Scala celi:
Other some lamented, the mumbling of Lady Psalter,

(Alas) quod another, this will not preuaile yee,
Now maye you see, their trumprye doth faile yee.
So it doth them selues, for loe where they lye,
That late hoyst theyr Gods, in Haulters full hye.

And loe (quoth hee) where they bee singing a Masse,
Pope Alexander, Pope Ioane, and both vnder a stoale:
See you not the sweete blood of hayles in a glasse,
Which Idoll brought hither many a poore soule?
A Pardoner mee thinke standes by with a scrowle.
Some officer bee like of Saint Iohns sweete Frary,
Looke who is in his bookes it is best you prepare yee.

At which wordes such a number brake out,
Of Caues and Sinkes on euery side:
As Tipling Bibs, and Suckers of growte,
Sect Sowers, and Brewbates, thyther fast bide:
Tutors, and Teltales, in euery nowke cryde.
Pickethankes and Prowlers, beare holy water,
Their maisters (being worldlings) sayd Confiteor, and Misereator.

Flattery light Lampes, to our Lady of grace,
Ipocrisie, calde them vp to the offering,
Saint Anne of Buckstones was washing a pace:
But Lucre was lifting small pence to the Coffering.
At shrieft they were close in euery place.
Twoo faces in one hoode, the Crosse then did beare,
Whereat abhomination, beganne for to sweare.

Great deuision there seemed to bee,
All that were there, did knocke on theyr breast:
But (alas) to late for to crye then Peccaui,
Althoughe the Pope both Crossed and bleste,
For when hee lookte backe, at Ite missa est:
When Dan Limlifter, the Candles should oute,
All flewe on a fire their Colledge through out.

Howe the Ladder was amended, that lately was craisht
After that time trulie of no man I aihste.

FINIS.

The torment of Tiranny, and the reward for his vvickednesse; Being a King called Mydas: VVhich Tirannouslye, swallowed not onely his Countrey for Lucre sake, but his householde Seruauntes also.

Thus as wee left these Romish Roges, of whome I spake of late,
Wee chaunste so heare a woeful wight, yt did bewaile his state.
And Tiranny his name was calde, who lou'd to leime the poore,
And suppe the gaine of sweating browes, for to increase his store.
This mighty mate ne mercy mindes, when he on soile did dwell,
But eate vp all on euery side, as they that want can tel.
The widow and the Fatherles, the Stranger that doth toyle:
His household Seruitours and al, hee seeketh for to spoyle.
Whome lended hee his eares vnto, but onelye vnto suche,
As vnto Pluto sacrifizde theyr soules to gaine him muche?
Tyl at the last his Tiranny, the ayre corrupt with smell,
Whereat the Skies, did turne theyr hewe, and Limbo gan to yell.
The Mountaines roare by Eccos voice, into the Heauens hye,
The scrikes and cryes of wronged wights, and al togeather flye.
The Preachers powred teares apace, repentance styl they cryde,
But al in vaine, his eares were stopte, such newes he might not bide.
His stoared groūd, his racked rents, his heards of goats, with sheepe & graine,
His prouling pickthāks, made him to forget his duty cleane:
Whom when yt Ioue perusde, and searchte his flintish Pharaos heart,
Upon the snappe grimme Mors he sends, to stick him with his Dart.
Who wound him so, that Atropos to line straight laid the launce,
Gods people by this Tyrants death, from bondage to aduaunce.
Whose wandring ghost, to Carons bote, with fearful grones is gone,
To dwell among the damned sprites, for other hope is none:
Where, in a pit, a place is pitchte, a woeful chayre to sit,
In molten mettall to the Crowne, a place for Tyrantes fit.
His officers bande him round about, with bagges of money thrust,
Which neuer cease, with gnashing teeth, to lend him many a dust.
Medusa is his Coke, to dresse this wretche his meate.
Which sets before him crawling Snakes, and vgly Todes to eate.
His counsellers bee retcht on length, theyr Guts on hookes bee torne,

Whole fowle deformed filthy tongus bewaile that they were borne,
Thus lost & torne, with torments great, with thūderbolts bethwakt,
On forkes & fleshhooks streind & stretcht, eche ioynt from other crakt,
And to augment this Misers griefe, with hookes they hale him out
Uppon a frosen scaffolde hoyst, this Tyraunt lookes about:
Where hellish Hegges and Furies shewe a sight t'increase his paine
Which is the ioyfull Eden fieldes, where saued soules remaine.
The blisfull bankes there might he see, the valleyes sweete & fayre,
Where wants no floures of noble taste, for to perfume the ayre.
All kinde of fruites do shew themselues, and readie ripe they hynge,
Of pleasures passing man to wishe, there wantes no kinde of thinge.
Pernassus hill to base a bancke, to be comparde to this,
Or Helicon in such respect, a weedie pyngle is.
Nor Cithera pearle of all the earth, is ought but counterfet,
Though it were deckt with all the golde, that Alexander get.
Tho I had dronke and supped vp, sweete Aganippes well,
Or Gabanelus skilfull floodes, yet want I skill to tell
The heapes of ioyes, this ioyfull fielde is garnished with all,
Doth much surmount this worldly blisse, thrise more then suger gall
For there Sir Tellus doth not taste of Hiemps frosen face,
Nor Boreas bragges the weakest twigge, sturs not within that place.
For Phebus hee his golden beames, disperseth here and there:
And Iupiter the siluer droppes from skies doth cause retire.
(In season due) to mol fie these fieldes of endelesse blisse,
Where none may come but such as by the Goddes appoynted is.
Whose garmentes be as white as snow, on instrumentes they sing.
And neuer cease, but praysing God, of earth, and heauen king.
And crownes vpon their heads they were, & aungels foode they eate,
Still Gloria in excelsis sing to'th Lambe vpon the seate.
There might this Tyraunt well beholde the poore whome he oprest.
Amid these ioyes for euermore, appoynted for to rest.
And such as least he did esteeme, and all he rent with wrong,
Their happie life eche houre did see, and daylie hearde their song.
Which when he hearde, a triple paine assaultes this caytiues ghost.
When hee did way his mundane mucke, and heauens treasure lost:
In equall ballaunce when he tryed, how Conscience him accusde,
(Quoth hee) fie on you Impes of hell, that thus haue me abusde.

Meaning by the muckhill Mates, which whispred in his eare,
And taught him how Goddes people poore, for gaines to rend & teare.
To ride, to runne, to hale, and drawe, as bondeslaues euery houre,
To whippe and scourge no mo then all, that were within his poure.
But Oh (quoth hee) let all the worlde example take by mee,
Let neuer greatest Prince on earth thinke other but to dye.
Oh, fye on goodes, thryse fye on golde, and tentimes fie on such
As shall procure great mightie men, the poore by wrong to touch.
And then he wrange his handes for wo, what happe had I (quoth hee)
To lende my eares to Dunghil Doltes, at their commaunde to bee,
And banisht from my seruice quite, the bloode of gentle race,
Which alwayes counsaylde me to minde, mine honor and my grace?
But as the Rauens seeke their praye, or Woolfe the spoyle pursues,
So did the Churles by meanes of me, eache where their furie vse.
The sonnes of Theeues & rustick Carles, might leade me as they list,
So that the gobs of gloring golde, they brought to freight my fist.
Yet as they spoylde the coast abroade (from me) so did they pinche,
So that at euerye elne, I scarce receyued halfe an inche.
I pitied not the Wydowes cause, nor fatherlesse I wayde,
Both townes and countries rounde about, to pastures great I layde.
Yet had I mines, with vineyardes large, with corne and cattell store
Yea Lordships, lands, parckes houge & wide, yet stil I lookt for more.
Mules and Camels infinite, Townes and Castles greate,
Thus Fortune with hir smiling lookes, hir worldly hookes can bayte
To catche the couetous Tyrant with, to present to Plutos grace,
Whose wickednesse he doth rewarde full well within this place.
And then hee lookt vpon these slaues, much yll (quoth he) betide,
You verlots borne, that thus bewitcht a Prince of such a pride.
Much yll and wo may hap so thee, thou foule deformed slaue.
And all thy mates that mooued mee, this mundan mucke to craue.
The childe vnborne curse you & yours, the hils shall sounde the same,
The stones in streets cry out on you, the skies proclaime your shame.
The heauens abhor both you and yours: hel rend you with his iawes,
And Furies all in Stigion streames, torment you with their clawes.
Much more he sayde but what it was, for skrikes we coulde not tell,
His men of trust and hee that time, in tormentes so did yell.
But still they bang him with these bagges, like madmen in their rage
And streite these furies with their hookes, did moūt him from ye stage.

Where tumbling hee in molten golde, doth walter here and there,
Till at the length, of him nor his, we coulde not see nor here.
But ouer the pit with letters blacke, this sentence there was pende
This is the place of iust rewarde for Tyrauntes in the ende.
Then by and by, a thundring voyce came poudering vp the pitte,
(Which sayde) remember thende you men, in chayres of state that sit.
For Pluto is the Iaylor here, to mightie Ioue aboue:
He pardons none but all alike, (take heede it doth behooue)
Which words did make my hart to shrink, as flowers doe in Iune,
So that to speake one worde for life, I durst not once presume.
But in my heart I wisht all men, King Mydas mucke to flee,
And speciallye the number that of mightie honor bee.
For they that reade the Poetes workes, shal here of Mydas much,
And how he crau'de all to be golde that he might feele or touche.
But though the Poets fabled so, and I in dreames doe faine,
Yet let not Tyrauntes better trust, but taste of Plutos paine.

The rewarde that Rosamond had in hell, for murdering of hir husbande Albonius and liuing vitiouslie in hir husbandes dayes.

When from this Pope we were depart and gone,
Meaning to returne, the night was almost spent:
But there fast by we hearde one crye a non,
Which sayde (Alas, alas) to late I doe repent,
My wanton dayes, my lustie youthfull toyes,
Haue banisht me from Aungels part of ioyes.

The sounde thereof a woman did present,
For Screminglie it rang among the caues,
Which when we hearde we coulde not be content:
But scalde the cragges among the flaming waues.
Till at the last a dungeon had we spyde,
Wherein the woman was that latelye cryde.

And as we stoode thereof to take the vewe,
In scalding furnesse whose flash doth still increase,
A seeming noble Dame with crowne and scepture newe
(Among a number) gan first of all to prease,
And sayd (Oh Morpheus) such haste why dost thou make?
I pray thee bide a while, yet for a womans sake.

Wherefore (quoth hee) my presence doth no good,
And yll I may abide, the night is almost spent:
Shee hearing this, cryed out as one were wood,
Abide and heare two wordes, then go I am content.
Dispatche (quoth hee) for long I cannot bide,
But first of all, thy name and cause describe.

(Oh quoth shee) this place prepared is,
For wickednesse the iust rewarde to bee,
And such as liue against the Goddes amisse,
Be vsed here with tormentes as you see.
Sith Morpheus thou all dreames dost sheweche where,
Publish this abroade how we are vsed here.

And let them know how Rosamonde the Queene,
To Albonyus late wife that was sometime,
Lyeth torment here as thou hast present seene,
For filthie life, and odious bloodie crime.
My life did craue none other ende but this,
Therefore beholde rewarde of wickednesse.

Therefore let mee to women warning bee,
To honor God the beste, and next their spoused mates:
And say that Rosamonde thus sayde to thee,
Who doth not so, shall enter at these gates.
It doth become eache woman night and daye,
To holde them well content, at what their husbandes saye.

You lustie bloodes possest with hawtie hartes,
Your loftie lookes correct with meaner state,
Refuse to playe these wanton wilfull partes,

From follye flee, least you repent to late.
Sometime I lookte as hye as hexte of you,
Which is the onelye cause I bid al ioyes adewe.

Seeme not to swell a hastye worde to heare,
No vauntage seeke, nor quarrels frame to breede:
An honest womans part is euer to forbeare
The sayinges of her husband, if wel shee thinke to speede.
Where loue is linkte, wordes cannot brewe the bate.
But where dissemblers are, fewe wordes then causeth hate.

And laye aside your newe disguised raye,
Leaue prancking of your selues with painted face:
From whirling heyre and there your eyes prophaned stay,
Bee faithful Matrons found in euery place.
Who doth hir spowsed Mate in any case betraye,
Shall sure repent it sore, with mee another daye.

For if that grace had light vpon my side,
Then had I dread before the doubtfull ende:
And so escaped that which nowe alas I bide,
As Guerdon meete for them that so offend.
For through one word I heard my husband saye,
My stomack was so stowte, I made him straight away.

Which was but small and easie to bee borne,
But that the wicked sprite mee tempte to seeke his blood,
For euen as Iudas his Maisters death had sworne,
Infect with like temptacion, that present time I stoode.
Uengeance I inuented and vengeance haue I caught.
To seeke my Husbandes life, mine owne destruction brought.

Loe, this was the cause. At my Husbands returne,
From doing great Battailes in Countreys full farre:
Being his pleasure a while for to Soiourne,
To rest him at ease after his Warre:
Let call a Triumphe, and made a great Feast,
To the which assembled all his Lordes of the best.

And being in his meriment, Thus Iested with mee:
Tooke a Goblet with Wine, and these words thē he sayd:
(Drinke a tawnt to thy Father, Wife quoth hee)
Who before in Battaile was wounded to dead.
Thus for to saye, much is not a mis,
Who euer doth speake it, where any grace is.

But (alas) vnhappilye I, as most women bee,
Was pufte full of Pride, and mutable minde:
I swelde as a Toade his death for to see,
Yet spake I him fayre his sences to blinde:
O God what mischiefe can women inuent,
And if a man alter but once theyr intent.

When I spake him as fayre as heart might deuise,
And made the greatst shewe of Faithfull true loue:
Inwardlye then I dyd hate and despise,
My noble Husbande all Creatures aboue.
Therefore I confesse, it is harde for to knowe,
When a woman speakes fayre, if shee meanes it or no.

I polluted filthilye my Husbandes bedde,
With one of his seruauntes, whome after I made
Most Traiterously to smite of his head,
As hee laye asleepe with his owne sworde or blade.
And so tooke his Treasure, and to the Seas wee fled,
There leauing my Husband wounded to dead.

This Squiers name, that did this wicked deede,
Melchis was called a stoute worthy Knight:
In Rauenne there became to proceede
A mighty Prince of great power and might.
Yet for all this, with him straight I tyred,
For eache daye on my filthy lust beastly desired.

Were hee Gentle or simple, I spared none,
Of one aboue another, I made no store:
For shame, Feare, and Grace, from mee were quite gone,

I paste not a pinne were they Ritche or poore:
My filthy fleshe so wickedly was sette,
That all was but fishe that came to the nette.

But among al the rest one noble man,
That then of Rauenne was a gouernour:
As ofte as pleased him nowe and than,
Had greate delite to holde mee as Paramour.
On whome a while my flitting minde did runne,
As erst it had of Melchis latelye done.

For whose sake Melchis my husbande newe,
Through treason framde, and vile Duplicitye,
Within my heart his death, I gan to brewe,
Because at large I thought to liue more viciously.
To worke the feate by sleyght, and scape the blame,
I priuily poysoned wine, & made him drinke the same.

To the middes dranke Melchis this Cup of Wine,
Which made him looke with colour dead and wan:
But when hee sawe that Traytresse heart of mine,
With much a doe these wordes declare hee gan
With rufull face. Thou wicked wretche (quoth hee)
Albonius thou through Treason slew, so hast done me.

And there withall his hande vppon mee layde,
And vrged me in Maugre of my head,
To drinke the tother halfe before I staide,
Which was no soner done but downe wee both fell dead,
And thus at mischiefe ended I my life,
That sometime was a Famous Princes Wife.

Loe Morpheus, this is the summe and all:
Nowe thou knowest my name, my wicked fact and deede:
I praye thee yet what haste soeuer fall,
Warne women of the like, it's not a litle neede.
To theyr Spowsed mates, bid them bee meeke & true,
Or tell them else confution doth ensue.

Bid them meeken theyr mindes with al due obedience,
And to humble them selues to theyr Husbandes alwaies:
For it is commonlye seene by auncient experience,
That none but the wilful doe catche their decaies.
Though wylye in working the craftie Dames bee,
Them selues they deceaue in the shoe you may see.

And now farewel Morpheus thou wotes what I meane,
Thou mayest say thou met with a miserable wight:
That first procured her Husband to bee slaine,
And also poysoned a valiaunt Knight.
This was my acte and the cause of my fall,
Quite murther, for murther, my selfe laste of all.

And with these wordes a Tyraunt with a hooke,
In tender sides, the mortall woundes hee printes,
Another on a forke this wicked woman shooke,
Nothing preuailed lesse, then for to crye with plaintes
A thousande naked blades in her they thrust,
And still (quoth they) this woman was vniust.

Mee thought it was a feareful sight to see,
Pitye wrought such griefe in mee, I wept for woe:
I thought that in a womans heart, had layen more pitye,
Then for to serue her faithfull Husband so.
Why dost thou muse (quoth Morpheus) then to mee?
This is the iust reward of them that wicked bee.

The night is almost spent (quoth hee) come let vs goe,
The least of theyr paines passeth our helpe:
I will bring thee safe to the place thou came fro,
Bee not doubtful of Cerberus that fowle currishe whelpe,
Nor of any that is heare, I will answere them all:
Bee of good cheere what euer doe be fall.

Thus wandering backe, wee looked about,
And or euer wee wist, were at Plutoes Pallasce:
At the which wee heard so cruell a showte,

As if they had all gon togither in malice,
Yet when we came neere them the truth then appeered,
It was but a triumph, and nought to be feared.

Then after a while vpon a stage full hye,
An yll faste yoman a blacke Trumpet blew:
And when silence was made, hee proclaymed a crye,
In the name of Pluto for tydinges most true.
(Quoth hee) bloodie Boner the Butcher comes here,
That hath furnisht our kitchin this many a yere.

Moreouer (quoth hee) it is Plutos high pleasure,
That all men prepare in the best sort they can,
Sith he is to Pluto and Proserpin such treasure,
To receryue him amonge vs as becomes such a man,
You know what his seruice hath bene heretofore,
Looke to your dueties what needes any more?

This sayde, he departed straite from the stage,
And to Plutos Pallace hee then tooke the waye.
But then to see both man boye and Page,
To set newe deuentions in order and raye,
The halfe to declare, it passeth my witte,
I am sure the like, was neuer seene yet.

There was fyling of fire boltes in holes and in noukes,
Headding of dartes, and poynting of spittes,
Skouring of blades, and bending of hookes,
Mending of fireforkes, and wyring newe whipes,
Barreling of Pitche, Sulfur, and Saltepeeter,
With more then can be described in meeter.

But for to be briefe so willing they were,
That nothing was wanting to set out the showe,
As by their dilligence full well did appeere,
No man coulde be more welcome there I know.
Boner (quoth one) Boner quoth another,
Welcome as hartelye as Father or Mother.

With all thinges poynt vice, and fit for the nonce,
Foorth came Pluto, and Proserpin the Queene,
To meete Boner the sucker of soules, flesh, and bones,
In such order and sorte as hath not bene seene.
I shall make a description as nie as I can,
How they went in order to meete him eche man.

First two and two came marching togither,
With a Pickeforke or Fleshooke in euery fist,
A blacke banner displayed that wauered in the weather,
Which obscured the light with darcke stinking mist.
Yll-faste Trumpiters a number there were,
From whose mouthes flewe a thunder odible to here.

The number I knew not so many there were,
But braue and fine they were out of doubt:
In hattes like hiues, and hoase bumde with heare
With rough courlde heades, they looked full stout,
They were so lustie they seemde to be cutters,
For they made it tentimes as bigge as swarfe Rutters.

Next after these there came in a raye,
By heapes whole swarmes of Plutos nobilitie,
Which did ride vpon Beares that did gape for their praye,
That alwayes were fed with the spoyle of simplicitie.
About their neckes hang double chaynes of golde.
But to aske their names I durst not be bolde.

Then came his Chapleins by two and by three,
And after them followed the great Uicare of all,
And on his heade a triple Crowne ware bee,
Arayed in robes that were full Pontificall,
On a ramping Lyon that gaped full wide,
This greasie Prelate that present did ride.

And then followed Pluto and Proserpin his Queene,
Upon as straunge horses as euer I see,
For like the hote gleydes glowed their eine,

Mightie and monstrous, long, large, and hie
With a number of Lordes, and Ladies also,
Came after in order, beside other moe.

Cerberus was caught in the Porters warde,
The gates were set open against Boner came,
Of Morpheus, and mee no man tooke regarde,
Their minde ranne so much of this noble man.
By meanes whereof without more a doe,
We gate out o'th gates or any man knewe.

Being out of the gates we scaled a rocke,
To see if wee might there spie Boner comming,
Who in deede appeared in sight with a flocke,
That came like Bedlems hedlong then running.
Himselfe led the way like a Champion stoute,
On a Dragons backe that spoylde rounde aboute.

He kept no order nor the companie that he brought,
For headelong came reeling both olde and young,
As thicke as haylestones, a man woulde haue thought,
Whereof some cryed, and other some soung.
But downe the hyll one and other came tumbling,
With Sancta Maria, I hearde them fast mumbling.

A Banner was borne with red all to spotted,
Before this butcher that pittie was to see,
Whose armes in the middes was rufully blotted,
With the bloode of Martires whome he caused to die.
And in the shielde painted as plaine did appeere,
An innocent Lambe, a cruell Woolfe, and a Beare.

In a fielde all blacke, on the other side his flagge,
Was depainted a fagot that glowed like a gleede,
And a bluddie hande with a sworde that did bragge,
Gainst all that profest Christes Gospell in deede.
With a poasie that threatned both aged and young,
To beleeue in his lore, or else holde their tongue.

But then to see what a meeting there was,
Betweene Pluto, Proserpin, and Boner that time,
For want of skill I must let it passe,
I cannot mention th' one halfe in this rime.
(No displeasure to the Pope) if himselfe had bene there,
It had not beene possible to made him better cheare.

Mary what they sayd, that, wee did not know,
But there was for ioye such colling and kissing:
Some laught that teeth a foote long they did show,
And clāwde eache other by the pate without missing.
To see the triumph made with fleshhookes & spits,
Had bene able to haue brought a man from his wits.

For thunder and lightning flew fizing about.
Dartes and firebrandes walkt here and there,
Bonfiers were made in all hell throughout,
For ioye that Boner was comming so neere.
Whose face I frayde least he shoulde haue spide me,
For when he was liuing he might not abide me.

Behinde Morpheus I crept, till they marched by,
And were past as farre as Cerberus warde,
But when they were within we hearde such a crye,
As among all the sorrowes before I not hearde.
They set hell on fire with making a feast,
And all was to welcome this lately come gest.

What was Boners Businesse that I doe not knowe.
Peraduenture he went to fetche soules away thence.
But iudge as you list therein yea or no,
I would not be with him for all the Popes pence.
But if Boners babes doe thinke that I lie,
Then let them go thither the truth for to trie.

The ende of the Rewarde of VVickednesse.

Retourning from Plutos Kingdome, To Noble Helicon: place of Infinite Ioye.

When wee from Plutos Pallaice came, and vewed had this woe.
(Quod Morpheus) yet I haue a walke, a litle waye to goe.
For sith I haue take al this paine, the doleful place to see,
My friendes shall knowe of my affayres, for that I am so nye.
This viage hight I long a goe, performde my promise is,
As thou thy selfe who eare demaunde, shal witnesse bee of this.
My Ladies lookte for mee long since, some vncouth newes to heare,
And howe in Stigion flames they sped, that liuing, wicked were.
Therefore it standes mee much vpon, my promise to performe,
For that vnto these worthy Dames, so firmely I haue sworne.
It nothing doth behoue (quoth hee) with them to bawke or blooke,
For why they doe from mighty Gods, descende of Sacred stocke.
Of Mercurie the onely sayde Mineruas dearlinges deere,
Whose mightie Muse, and learned skill, had neuer yet theyr peere.
In Helicon their dwelling is, with Cytheron full hye,
Pernassus for theyr pleasure haue, when they thereto agree.
And loe, where (Helicon) appeares of truth a princely place,
Where thou and I, these Ladies with, must commen face to face.
At which mine eyes I lifted vp: The fore sayde place I see,
Which was mee thought so passing fine, as neuer thing might bee.
The Redrose, and the Rosemarye, Inuironed this Hill,
In euerye nooke the Gilyflower, him selfe presented styll.
The comely Bancks with Daysies deckt, and Primrose out of crie,
The Uiolets and Cowleslops sweete, abought in sight I spye.
With other Hearbes that pleasaunt were, which did mee good to see.
Whose fragrant smels perfume the ayre, yt from this place doth flee,
The Thrustel and the Nightingale, with Musike sweete they Pipe,
So pleasauntlye the Gods them selues to heare would much delite.
Loe, here doe yeeld the Christal Springs, theyr trickling siluer floods,
And there Pomgarnet Tree with fruite, to earth doth veile his buds.
The Filbeard in another place, as browne as Beryes shoe,
Eftsones I spyed the Orrange hyng, with Quince and many moe.

What wast that wanted there (nothing) that might delite the minde,
But hee that lookte (in euery place) the same should present finde.
In triple wise the Arbours cast, I made of sweetest Briar,
Mixt with the Uine, that vp and downe the ripest grape doth beare.
Of Boxe are Turrets dubbed round, & stayres by arte wel wrought.
Tascende into the tops thereof, as fine as maye bee thought.
Wherein these Ladies ofte doe sit, this Ioyfull sight to vewe,
For there they maye afarre, beholde what strangers come a newe.
And when wee had perusde this place, of highe and mightye fame,
In hexte of al these Turret tops, wee spied a noble Dame,
Adornde and deckte, in comelye raye, and seemely to beholde,
Hir face was like an Angel bright, whose hayre that steinde the gold.
Not curld and fruzulde her browes about, but combde in order fayre,
And on her head of Laurell made, a garlande which shee ware.
No double Ruffes about her necke, no garded Gowne ware shee,
Nor on her handes that steinde the snow, no ringes there were to see.
Hir eyes stoode stedfast in her head, they whirlde not here and there.
Nor in her face you could espye, ought else but grace appeare.
A comely Gowne shee had vpon, of collour sad and sage,
As best became a worthy Dame, presenting midle age.
To whome wee drewe in al the haste, our reuerence for to vse,
Whom when shee saw, first word shee said, welcome (quoth she) what newes?
But further or I do proceede, her name I shal describe,
And in what order that I see, hir Sisters in that tide.
Melpomina, this Ladye hight, the eldest of the nine,
That there among hir Sisters sate, within that Turret greene.
And euerye Ladye with a Booke, in studie sate full fast,
And reading of the worthy actes, that had beene done and past.
The workes of Poets all they had, and scanning there they were,
Who was best worthy in his time, a Poets name to beare.
And Instruments in euery nowke, these noble Ladies had,
To recreate theyr Muses with, and for to make them glad.
And euerye one appareyld like, whose face like starres did shine,
Respondent to Melpomina, In gracious giftes diuine.
Among them were no wanton songs, nor Bacchus bancquets sought.
Nor newe deuice of prancking Pride, nor signe of euill thought.
There was no care to purchase lande, nor fleessing of the poore,
Nor renting Houses out of crye, nor hording for a store.

There was no striuing for such pelfe, as worldlinges nowe delite,
Tom Teltale could not there bee found, that worketh al the spite.
Nor Peter Pickthancke beare no swaye, for all his craftye fatche,
The Bailife Laurence Lurcher, there nothing for to catche.
There is no Tyrant there, that spoiles nor doth ye poore man wrong.
No taking in of Commons is, within that circuite long.
One seekes not there anothers blood, his liuinges to obtaine,
No priuie hate, nor open wrath, among them doth remaine.
Hipocrisie doth take no place, among these worthye Dames,
Of any Crime it is not heard, that one another blames.
The ruggie blast of Boreas mouth, at no time taketh place,
There Ver, and Flora, both do shewe theyr gorgious face.
Nor Zephirus doth shake no braunche, within that sacred Hill.
But euery thing in former state, alwayes continueth styll.
Nor Hiemps hath no power there, the flakye Snowe to cast,
There is nothing that taketh taste, of cruell Winters blast.
And as I sayde erewhile, howe that wee did these Ladies spie,
(So what wee sayd) and they to vs, Ile tell you by and by.
When wee in order found them thus: Haile Ladye Morpheus sayde,
With Cap in hande I vailde to earth: (They bad mee hele my heade)
(And welcom Morpheus) one and all, they sayde reioysinglie,
Why hast thou bene so long (quoth they) what newes hast brought with thee?
What newes (quoth Morphe) newes ynough, aread frō whence I came
I haue performde my promise made, as ought an honest man.
You did request and I agreede to vewe vile Stigion lakes,
And to peruse with wicked sorte, what order Pluto takes.
And how they are rewarded there, it was your willes to know,
That did delite in euill actes to worke poore people woe.
(Quoth they thats true) & were you there? I came from thence (quoth hee)
Then all at once they gaue him thankes, as glad as they might bee.
With modest words tell vs (quoth they) what sightes that you haue seene
For thankes is all you get of vs, to quite your toyled paine.
But what we can or may be boulde, that honest seemes to bee,
(To pleasure you) in any wise, we shall thereto agree.
But speake, tell on, lets lose no time (quoth one) we thinke it long,
Begin good Morpheus (quoth the rest) and we will holde our tongue.
So Morpheus streight began his tale, and toulde them how that hee.
Among a Masque of merye mates, by chaunce did light on mee.

And howe wee past from ward to ward, & what was done and sayde,
And when wee came to Plutoes place, among them howe wee sped.
And whome we saw, and what they did, & what theyr sayinges was,
Correspondent to the trueth discribed, more and les.
But when hee tolde them of the Pope, that Alexander hight,
And of the Seruice that they sang, and vsed day and night:
And what resort of Shauelings hee, had with him euery howre,
The Ladyes all on Laughing fell, yea, rounde about the Tower.
Yet wofull for the rest they were, because they wanted grace,
For very zeale these worthy Dames, in teares did washe theyr face.
Where at when Morpheus did behold, these Ladies woful cheare,
(Quod hee) if I had thought on this, I would not haue come heare.
But cease your dolour yet a while, your listning eares lende mee,
And wipe away those plainting teares, which greeueth me to see.
For certs I haue, of woefulnesse and dyrefull destnye tolde,
Of pleasaunt Pageantes Ile rehearse, & Triumphs many folde.
In wandring vp and downe the vale, to see these vglye sightes,
About the place where Pluto laye, wee sawe great Lampes & lights.
With Pageands playd, and Tragedies, & noise of Trumpets sound,
Yea, Bonfires blasde, with thumping guns, that shooke the trembling groūd.
Which when we hard, & did behold, we hasted fast to know,
What was the cause, wherfore or why, those trumpets gan to blow.
And comming to the Pallaice Gates, wee neede not craue them why,
For Boner comes with open Iawe, both yong and olde gan crye.
So Morpheus set the Tale an ende, and as I sayde of late,
Ene so as Boner welcomde was, at large discride the state.
Where at the Ladies euery one, with comely smiling cheare,
Laide by their Bookes, & lawghtful fast, those newes of him to heare
A ha (quoth they) is Boner there? Thats Plutoes Butcher bolde.
It's Plutoes parte to welcome him, for seruice done of olde.
And reason good another saide, desertes must needes bee quit,
And so they are I doe perceyue, by you in Plutos pit.
Some scofte & sayd, hee went for Soules, that long in Stigion dwelde.
And other some to preache and teache, a great opinion helde.
But in the fine a thousand thankes, they yeelded Morpheus there:
(And sayde) they would deserue his paines, if able that they were,
And yong man (quoth Melpomina) sith thou hast taken paine,
Wee doe confesse for recompence, thy debtors to remaine.

But muche I wonder howe thy witte did serue these sights to see,
Nay maruaile not (quoth Morpheus then) al while he was with mee.
But otherwyse in deede (not hee) nor any mortall man,
That could or might at any time, Phlegetons fiers scan.
Thats true, but whats his name (quoth one) hee lookes with musing moode:
He is (quoth Morpheus) towards you al, and sproong of Robins blood,
Whose painefull pen hath aye beene prest, for to aduance this place,
As at these dayes, his actes full well, shal witnesse to your grace.
And certainelye his chirping tongue, delites to bawke no truth,
But plaine song partes each where doth sing, as well to age as youth.
Therfore sith I had promise made, this vglye place to see,
Mee thought a fitter man to take, I could not finde then hee.
(Quoth Vranye) with seemely lookes, Good sir yee saye full true.
For bad you not some bodye take, no man had knowne but you.
And thē your labor had been lost, which now great thanks doth craue.
Nor the reward had beene knowen, that wicked people haue.
And sith you light vpon our friende, ten times the gladder wee.
To warning of the rest we trust, these newes in Print to see.
And with these words they tooke their bookes, frō Turret straight discend,
With one accord they chargde me al, to hast yt this were pend.
In verse (quoth Clio) pithilye according to your Dreame,
We charge you that to al the world, your pen doe straight proclaime,
And the Rewarde of wickednesse your Booke shall haue to name,
No better title can bee founde to gree vnto the same.
But when I hard these woordes in deede, so full of care I was,
That when I should haue aunswere made, no word from mee coulde pas.
My wits were wast, my sence was fled, and stil I stoode amasde,
Like Hart before the Hounde afright, or Birde in pitfall dasde.
And what to say I readles was, they gaue so straight a charge,
Yet at a venture by and by, these wordes I spake at large.
Madames (quoth I) my willing mind aye alwaies yours hath beene,
Although the grosenesse of my head, deseru'de no praise to winne.
And more then twentye times ashamde, assuredlye I am,
That any of my barren workes, your learned eyes shoulde scan,
Apollos prudent worthie skill, nor Pallas actiue feates,
(I neuer knew) to promise this, how shall I pay my debtes?
My sillie eares Mineruas voyce could neuer vnderstande,
Alas good Ladies woulde you I shoulde take this worke in hande?

If Caliope rulde my pen, and did thereto agree,
Then shoulde you well and easie spie at all no fault in mee.
And sith as yet I neuer taste, your milke of sacred brest,
I doe beseeche you euerie one, forget your last request.
And place some other in my steede, this worke in hande to take,
And so you shall your little Birde a cheerefull Robin make.
And otherwyse when all is done, for to acquite my paines,
With losse of all my labour I shall purchas Cherils gaines.
What, will you so (quoth one indeede,) by this what doe you meane?
Who might for shame denie vs all to take so mickle paine?
What neede you to aleadge such doubts, you are to blame (quoth shee)
Who want you to assist you with, when we thus friendelie bee?
And are we not both some and all, for to erect the same?
Who euer yet tooke paine for vs, but wan immortall Fame?
And then shee helde me fast bith hand, come Sisters then (quoth shee)
Come bring your keyes vndoe your lockes, & let this younge man see
How we exalte the studious sorte, whose paynefull hande and quill,
Is apt at any time to yeelde their fruites vnto this hill,
I hearing this, vneth one worde, durst saye but helde me still,
And countnaunce made as if I woulde consent vnto their will.
And so they brought vs to the place, that all the rest exceedes,
Tentimes as much as in sweete May, the Cowslops stincking weede.
And meete vpon the mountaine toppe, bolt vp into the skies,
This noble place of endelesse fame, most curiously doth ryse,
Whose Turrets here & there doe showe the cūning workmans skill,
That first by art that statelie place began on sacred hill.
Epowdered were the Walles abroade, with stones of Onix kinde,
The rest was Chrystall, finely wrought, that like the Orient shinde.
Meete square it was on euerye side, as could bee thought in minde.
Set out with Phanes, that here and there, flew vp & downe the wind.
No doores but one, where on was set, nine lockes made for ye nones,
Of finest Golde, with curioust workes, outcht rounde with precious stones.
And euery Sister had a key, respondent to the same,
Which by the vse of Custome ould, did know theyr auntient name
To which eache Sister put her keye, abroade the Gates were cast,
They had mee come and there beholde, my Guerdon due at last.
And as wee passed through the Court, the pleasaunt house to vewe,
Amid the same I did espie, a Laurell where it grewe.

Wherein a thousande Birdes I thinke, or me with sweetelie voyce,
On euery spray the littleones sit, and gladsomelie reioyce.
Upon eche Laurell twigge there hange, the pennes of euerie one,
Whose painefull handes their learned Muse, declared long agone,
And grau'd in gold was eche mans name, & what their trauels were
For monumentes tacquite their paines, shall hang for euer there.
Thus when we had behelde at will the fashion of this tree,
These Ladies bid vs yet abide a greater sight to see.
And then they brought vs to a place, where all the Poetes bee,
In Pictures drawne by cunning arte, eache man in his degree.
And as their trauels did appeere, to challenge prayse or fame,
Euen so eache one exalted was according to the same.
Among a number some I knewe, whose workes full oft I reade,
That picturde were in liuelie forme, as they had not beene deade.
The first of all, olde Homer sate with visage sage and sad,
Upon his head of Laurell made, a triple garlande had.
Then Virgill as their order is, with wan and paled lookes,
Was placed in a comelie seate, of eyther side his Bookes.
Ouid next to Virgill sate, as leane as hee might bee,
Whose musing moode in all respectes, did with the same agree.
And Chawcer for his merie tales, was well esteemed there,
And on his head as well ought best, a Laurell garland were.
All these I knewe and many moe, that were to long to name,
That for their trauels were rewarde, for euermore with Fame.
And looking rounde about that house, to see and if I might
By chaunce of any countrey men of mine to haue a sight:
At length I was espide there of Skelton and Lydgat,
VVager, Heywood, and Barnabe Googe, all these togither sate.
With diuers other English men, whose names I will omit,
That in that place enioye the like, of whome I spake not yet.
And meete behinde the doore I sawe a place where Cherill sate,
Arte there thought I vnto my selfe? I am like to be thy mate.
By then we had behelde all this, the night was almost gone,
Therefore Ile take my leaue of you (quoth Morpheus) euery one,
Thers no remedie but depart, this youngman must away,
Beholde where Eos shewes hir face, and doth disclose the daye.
With al our harts these Ladies sayd: & thanks we thousands giue,
And what wee may good Morpheus doe, its yours euē while wee liue.

With veyled knee vnto the grounde, my leaue of them I tooke,
Who gentlye bid mee all farewell, and chargde mee with the booke
And good yong man (quoth they) take paines these few newes to pen,
So shalt thou earne greate thankes of vs, and of all Englishe men.
And for our ayde bee sure of it, gainste Zoilus and his whelpes,
For to defend thy Booke and thee, wee promise heare our helpes.
Loe heare you see, howe wee acquite our seruauntes at the last,
Wee cause them liue, when cruell death hath take the vitall blast.
And here a place wee will prepare, for thee among these men,
That haue immortall glorye wonne, by painefulnesse of pen.
At which most courteously, I craude, and vailed with my knee,
And sayde good Ladies call againe, this charge if it maye bee.
Commit it to some other man, that hath much better skill,
And better knowth an hundreth times, to scale your learned Hill.
Your Honours haue in Th'innes of Court, a sort of Gentlemen,
That fine would fit your whole intentes, with stately stile to Pen.
Let Studley, Hake, or Fulwood take, that William hath to name.
This peece of worke in hande, that bee more fitter for the same.
But when they hard mee speake these words, they were offēded sore
Wee saye looke to thy charge (quoth they) and let vs heare no more.
And then they whyrled to the Gate, away they vanisht straight,
Which when wee sawe wee there withall descended downe the hight
So Morpheus brought mee home againe, frō whence I came before,
And bade mee laye mee downe and sleepe, for I had traueylde sore.
But looke (quoth he) vnto thy charge: as thou wilt aunswere make,
Forget nothing that thou hast seene, in flaming Stigion Lake.
And then hee tooke his leaue and went, no more I might him see,
But with this trauaile out of hande, full sore he charged mee.
And as a man whose sillie sprightes, had wandered all the night,
So in a slumber waked I, and vp I gat me right,
And called for the merie mates in th' euening that were there,
I meruell where they bee (quoth I) another aunswerd here.
Alas it was a death to see their lookes so deade and pale,
And how both purse, & heade of witte, were sacte and spoilde with ale
Some Gaged Daggers, some their Coats, when al was gone & spent
The Ale wife shee would needes bee paide, before that any went.
Some had surfette, some toke colde, and sowe for sleepe were lost,
(What tho) whē pēce were out of purse, be gon straight cride my host

And sende his Gestes by Crosselesse lane, and litle wittame home,
They neede not doubt the theefe byth way, for Money had they none.
Yet ouernight hee that had seene, the carping of mine Host,
Howe welcome were his newcome Gestes, & how the Churle could bost
Of this and that, and fill the Pots, laye Apples in the fire,
And nowe Ile drinke vnto you all, thus cryed the Aple squire.
Come Kate, goe Wife, fill bowle againe: Ioane looke vnto the doore,
Pipe Minstrum, make vs Murth a while, God sendeth al men store:
That like the Cyrents song, my Host playde Synons parte,
And made them lende theyr listening eares vnto his guileful arte.
To euery Feast hee biddes a Gest, fetch drinke good Dame saith hee,
And make this Gentleman some Cheere, yare welcome sir saith shee.
And thus they bid you to the Rost, and hexte of all shall sit:
But or you part, I hold a crowne, theyle beate you with the spit.
I found theyr fetch, no force thought I, sith you such Cutthrotes bee,
No more then neede, or force compels, no groate you get of mee.
And there withall my Hostesse calde: I payde and got mee thence,
No fauour there was to bee had, but for the litle pence.
And then I calde my Dreame to mind, whereat straight way I went,
To put in vse the promise made, The time in studye spent.
Tyll I had made a finall ende, of this my little Booke,
To haste the same to Printers handes, al trauailes els forsooke.
What thankes therefore I shall deserue, God knowth so doe not I.
But as my meaning is herein, let Fame proclaime and crye.
(Bee as bee maye) yle take my chaunce, as hap shal cast the Dice,
Sith once I knowe yet hytherto, my trauaile paide the Price.

Quoth. R. Robinson.

FINIS.