University of Virginia Library

Sceane 4.

CACONOS.
HYP. TIRANNY. AVARICE.
In gude feth sir, this newis de gar me lope,
Ay is as light as ay me wend, gif that yo wol me troth,
Far new ayen within awer lond installed is the Pope,
Whose Legat wt authoritie thaxawawt awr cūtry goth,
And charge befare him far te com, vs Preests end lemen bath,
Far te spay awt gif that he mea, these new sprang Arataykes,
Whilk de disturb awr hally Kirke, laik a sart of saysmataykes.
Awr gilden Gods ar brought ayen intea awr Kirks ilk whare,
That vnte tham awr Parishioner, ma affer thar gudewill,
Far hally Masse in ilke place, new thea auters de prepare,
Hally watter, Pax, Crosse, Banner, Censour and Candill,
Cream, Crismatory, hally Bred, the rest omit ay will,
Whilt hally Fathers did inuent fre awd Antiquitie,
Be new receued inte awr Kirks, with great solemnitie.
Bay these thaugh lemen bene apprest, the Clargy sall het gean,
Far te awr Sents theis affer yifts all whilk we sall receyue,
Awr hally Masse, thaw thea bay dere, thea de it but in vayne,
Far thaw ther frends frea Purgatory, te help thea dea beleue,
Yet af ther hope, gif nede rewhayre it wawd theam all deceue,
Sea wawde awr Pilgrimage, Reliques, Trentals and Pardons,
Whilk far awr geyn inte awr Kirk ar braught in far the nones.
Far well a nere what war awr tenths & taythes that gro in fild,
What gif we han of glebed lond ene plawwark bay the yeare,
Awr affring deas de vara laytell ar nething te vs yeld,
Awr Beadroll geanes, awr chrisom clethes de laytle mend awr fare
Gif awt af this we pea far vale, we laytle mare can spare,
Sawl Masses, Diriges, Monethmayndes and Buryinges,
Alsowlnday, Kirkings, Baneasking and weddings.
The Sacraments, gif we mowt sell, war better then thea all,
Far gif the Iewes gaue thratty pence, te hang Chrayst on a tree,
Gude christiā folk thrayse thratty pence wawd coūt a price but smal


Sea that te ete him with ther teeth delayuered he mawght be,
New of this thing delayuerance, ne man can mak but we,
Se that the market in this punt, we Preests sawd han at will,
And with the money we sowd yet, awr pooches we sowd fill.

Hypocrisie.
I will goe and salowt him, good morrow sir Iohn,

Cacon.
Naw bay may Preest hade God giue ye ten far ene,

Hypocrisie.
Do you Master Parson in this Parish singe?

Cacon.
Yai sir that ay de, gif yowll giue me troothing,

Tyranny.
I haue a comission your house and Church to seeke,
To search if you any seditious Bookes do keepe.

Cacon.
Whe ay? well a neare ay swer bay the Sacrament,
Ay had rather han a cup of nale then a Testament.

Hypocrisie.
How can you without it your office discharge?

Cacon.
It is the least thing ay car far bay may charge,
Far se lang as thea han Images wharon te luke,
What nede thea be distructed awt af a Buke.

Hypocrisie.
Tush that will nodifie them all well enowe,
As well a dead Image as a dumb Idole I make God avowe,

Cacon.
Yai, ay my sen, bay experience thot con showe,
Far in may Portace the tongue ay de nat knowe,
Yet when ay see the great gilded letter,
Ay ken it sea well, as nea man ken better:
As far Example, on the day of Chraistes Natyuitie,
Ay see a Bab in a Manger, and two Beastes standing by
The Seruice whilk to Newyeares day is assaygnd,
Bay the Paicture of the Circumcision ay faynd.
The Seruice, whilk on Twalfth day mun be don,


Ay seeke bay the marke of the three kynges of Colon.
Bay the Deuill tentyng Chraist, ay faind whadragesima,
Bay Chraist on the Crosse, ay serch out gude frayday:
Pasch for his marke, hath the Resurrection,
Ayenst Hally Thursday, is pented Chraistes Assention,
Thus in mayn owne buke, ay is a gude Clarke,
But gyf the Sents war gone, the Cat had eate my mark
Se the sandry mairacles, whilk ilk Sent haue done,
Bay the Picttures on the walles sal appeere to them soone
Bay the whilk thea ar lerned in euery distresse,
What Sent thea mun prea te far succour doubtles:
Sea that all Lepers te Syluester must prea,
That he wawd free tham, ther disease take away.
Laykwais, thea that han the fallyng saicknes,
Te be eased therfre, thea mun prea to St. Cornelis:
In contagious aier, as in plague or pestilence,
Te hally Sent Ruke, thea mun call far assistance.
Fra parill of drawning, Sent Carp keepe the Maryners
Fra dayng in warfare, Sent George gard the Soldiers,
Sent Iob heale the Poxe, the Agew, Sent Germayne,
Far te ease the toothache, call te Sent Appollyne,
Gif that a woman be barren and childles,
Te helpe her herein, she must prea te Sent Nicolas.
Far wemen in trauayle, call to Sent Magdalene
Far lawlynes of minde, call te Sent Katheryne,
Sent Loy saue your Horse, Sent Anthony your Swyne.

Tyranny,
What? this Parson, seemeth connyng to be,
And as farre as I see, in a good vniformytie:
Yea, he is well red, in that golden Legend.

Cacon.
Bay may trooth, in readyng any other, ne taym do I spend
Far that ay ken, bay general caūsell, is canonized
And bay the hely Pope hymselfe is authorized:
That Buke farther, is wholly permytted,
Wharas, the Bayble in part is prohibited.
And therfore, gif it be lawfull to vtter my conscience,


Before the new Testament ays giue it credence.

Hypocrisie.
I allow his Iudgement before Ambrose & Austin,
And for Hypocrisie, a more conuenient Chapleyn,

Auarice.
It greeueth me much that no fault we can spye,
For now of some bribe disappoynted am I,
Yet happily he may tell vs of some Heretykes.

Tiranny.
Is there M. Parson in your parish no Scismatikes?

Cacon.
Yai mara is ther a vara busy bodye,
Whe will iest with me and call me fule and noddye,
And sets his Lads te spowt latin ayenst me,
But ay spose then with Deparfundis Clam aui,
And oftentimes he wil reson with me of the Sacarment,
And say he can prooue bay the new Tastament,
That Chraystss body is in Heauen placed,
But ays not beleue him, ay woll not be awt faced,
He says besayd that the Pope is Anticraist,
Fugered of Iohn bay the seuen hedded beast,
And all awre religion is but mons inuention,
And with Gods ward is at vtter dissention,
And a plaguy deel mare af sayk layk talke,
That ay dar not far may nars bay his yate walke,
But ay wawd he wer brunt that ay mawght be whaiet,

Tiranny.
He must. haue a cooler his tongue runnes at riat.

Auarice.
What is his name sir Iohn, canst thou tell vs?

Cacon.
Yai sir that ay ken he is cleped Phailelegoos.

Tyranny.
Wilt thou go show his house where he dwell?

Cacon.
Yai or els ay wawd may sawl war in Hell,
Te de him a plesure ay wawd gang a whole yeare,


Gif it war but te make him a Fadocke te beare.

Tyranny.
Go with vs Auarice and beare vs company.

Auarice.
Nay, if you go hence I will not here tary.

Hypocrisie.
Away sirs in your busines in a corner do not lurke,
That my Lord Legate when he coms may haue worke.

Tyranny.
Come on let vs go together sir Iohn.

Cacon.
Ay sall follow after, God boy you good Gentleman.

Hypocrisie.
Farewell, three false knaues, as betweene this and London.

Tyranny.
What sayst thou?

Hip.
As honest men as ye three Kings of Colon.
This geare goes round if that we had a fiddle:
Exeunt Tyr. Auar. Cacon.
Nay, I must sing too, heigh dery dery dery,
I can do but laugh my hart is so merry,
I wilbe minstrel my selfe heigh didle didle didle,
But lay there a strawe I began to be wery:
But harke I heere a tramplyng of feete,
It is my Lord Legate I will him go meete.