Babels balm: or The honey-combe of Romes religion With a neate draining and straining-out of the rammish honey thereof. Sung in tenne most elegant elegies in Latine, by that most worthy Christian satyrist, Master George Good-vvinne. And translated into tenne English satyres, by the Muses most vnworthy Eccho, Iohn Vicars. — Melissa religionis pontificiae. English

Babels balm: or The honey-combe of Romes religion With a neate draining and straining-out of the rammish honey thereof. Sung in tenne most elegant elegies in Latine, by that most worthy Christian satyrist, Master George Good-vvinne. And translated into tenne English satyres, by the Muses most vnworthy Eccho, Iohn Vicars. — Melissa religionis pontificiae. English

Table of contents

Title page

TO THE RIGHT HONOVRABLE, WILLIAM LORD HERBERT, of Cardiffe, Marmion St. Quintin, and Parr of Kendall; EARLE of Pembrooke, Chamberlaine of his MAIESTIES Household, Chauncelour of OXEFORD, Knight of the Noble Order of the GARTER; and one of his MAIESTIES most Honorable PRIVIE-COVNCELL.

TO THE IVDICIOVS AND COVRTEOVS READER.

The Authours Epistle Dedicatorie to the right Honorable Sir ROBERT NANTON, Knight, Principall Secretarie to the State, and one of his Maiesties most Honourable priuie Councell.

THE TRANSLATOVR TO HIS TRVELY INGENVOVS and most ingenious Authour.

To the most Dis-courteous Momish Catholike, whose greatest Grace is a graceles gracious Kisse at his Vn-holy Fathers Great-Toe, Greeting.

IVDGEMENT VPON HIS WIT.

The Argument of the Poeme.

The Satyres of this Booke.

OF THE POPES SVPREMACY. THE FIRST SATYRE.

OF THE AVTHORITY OF THE POPE OF ROME. THE SECOND SATYRE.

OF THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SCRIPTVRES. THE THIRD SATYRE.

OF THE DAMNABLE DOCTRINE IN THE DECEIVEABLE SYNAGOGVE OF SATAN, AT ROME. THE FOVRTH SATYRE.

OF THAT BLASPHEMOVS FALSE-FICTION OF MERIT, AND OF WORKS OF SVPEREROGATION, to the Derogation of Christs honour. THE FIFTH SATYRE.

OF THAT LOVDE LYE, AND FOND FICTION OF TRANSVBSTANTIATION. THE SIXTH SATYRE.

OF THE CORRVPT LIFE AND CONVERSATION, CVSTOMARY IN THE CITIE OF ROME. THE SEVENTH SATYRE.

OF THE COVETOVS BVYING AND SELLING OF ALL THINGS VNDER THE POPES Power and Iurisdiction. THE EIGHTH SATYRE.

OF THE MOST FORMIDABLE AND ABOMINABLE POWDER-PLOT BY PAPISTS, WITH THEIR horrible authorized libertie to perpetrate any Villany. THE NINTH SATYRE.

AN EPILOGVE OF THE ANTECEDENTS.

OF THE HOLY RELIQVES, TRADITIONS, AND OTHER ADMIRABLE INVENTIONS OF THE CHVRCH OF ROME. THE TENTH SATYRE.

A CORROLLARIE TO THE PREMISES.

VPON THIS BEE-HIVE OR HONEY-COMBE.

§

§

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BABELS BALM: OR THE HONEY-COMBE OF ROMES RELIGION. WITH A neate draining and straining-out of the rammish HONEY thereof.

Sung in tenne most elegant ELEGIES in Latine, by that most worthy Christian SATYRIST, Master GEORGE GOOD-VVINNE. AND Translated into tenne English SATYRES, by the Muses most vnworthy Eccho, IOHN VICARS.

AVGVSTINE, Pride hath an appetite of Vnitie and Omnipotency.

Imprinted at London by George Purslowe for Nathanaell Browne, and are to be sold at his Shop, at the vpper end of the long Walke neere Little S. Bartholomews. 1624.

TO THE RIGHT HONOVRABLE, WILLIAM LORD HERBERT, of Cardiffe, Marmion St. Quintin, and Parr of Kendall; EARLE of Pembrooke, Chamberlaine of his MAIESTIES Household, Chauncelour of OXEFORD, Knight of the Noble Order of the GARTER; and one of his MAIESTIES most Honorable PRIVIE-COVNCELL.

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WIse Counsellours (great Lord) as Sages say,

Haue three faire Markes to make their best blest aime;

First, Gods due glory; next, their Princes Fame;

Lastly, to be their Countries Staffe and Stay.

God His exacts; by whom, they're first elected:

Kings, Theirs expect; vnder whom they haue Grace:

States, Hence their Fates extract; for whom that Place

They exercise, to see them safe protected.

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How well your Lordship hits this triple-White,

How well your Worth's approu'd to God and Man,

Your God, your King, your Countrey witnesse can,

Whose Goodnesse, Grauenesse, Greatnesse, All delight.

Your Goodnesse to your God, your Faith makes knowne,

Your Grauenesse to your King, your Wisedome showes;

Your Greatnesse to the State, in Vertue flowes;

Faith, Wisedome, Worth, combin'd, conioynd in One.

A faire Paire-Royall in a Loyall Peere,

Whom Heauen hath happifi'd for's Piety,

Whom his great King loues for his Loyalty ▪

Whom all his Countrey, iustly, holds most deere.

O, may this three-fold Twist be ne're vntwin'd;

May Piety your Pilot euer bee:

O, may your Prince your Prudence euer see;

Long may your Countrey your good Counsaile finde.

That as you GOD, GOD may you euer houour;

That as you grace your King, your King may grace you;

That as you fight vnder Faiths blessed Banner;

Your God, your King, your Countrey may embrace you:

His humble Heart and Voice, this sayes, thus prayes;

Who in his Prayers, his Best, doth rest alwayes.

Your Honours most humble Votarie to be commanded, IOHN VICARS.

TO THE IVDICIOVS AND COVRTEOVS READER.

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THou hast here (courteous Reader) my Authours Epistle Dedicatorie: which both for the Elegancy thereof, and proprietie to this present Discourse, I haue translated into English, the rather for that the Authour hath learnedly laid-downe his Motiues both to the Matter and Metricall Method thereof. Which as they most iustly may and doe protect him from the Prauitie of detracting Malignitie: So I hope they will with no lesse indifferencie (my Cause and Case being the same in the Matter, though farre inferiour in the Manner) Patronize me, and Apologize for me against the Malice of muttering Momus. Thus hoping the best in the generous and iudicious, disdayning the worst in the degenerous and inscitious. I rest

Thine Io. VICARS.

The Authours Epistle Dedicatorie to the right Honorable Sir ROBERT NANTON, Knight, Principall Secretarie to the State, and one of his Maiesties most Honourable priuie Councell.

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MAny things there be (right Honourable) which vilifie and diminish the faith of Romes Religion, which fortifie and garnish ours. And yet indeed it is a very miserable and deplorable thing, that in matter of Religion, mens mindes and iudgements should still hang wauering and anxiously tottering as a Wedge of Steele betweene two attractiue Loadestones; and not to be maturely and firmely confirmed in the indubitable orthodox Faith and Religion. When therefore I had adapted and addicted my mind to the studie of Diuinitie, and afterward setled my serious inquisition vpon Controuersies of Faith: Poperie most perspicuously seemed to me, to be nothing else, but a certaine pompous & Maiesticke Monarchie, begotten by Ambition, bred and fed vp by Superstition, blocked-vp and fortified by Tyranny, enlarged and propagated both by the Mammon of the World, and fraudulent Fabrication of the Pseudo-Clergie.

Many most learned Authours haue by their worthy Writings notably shaken this (I say not Religion, but) Relegation or Banishment of true Religion: and may It now (with your Honours good liking) put on a versified Vesture, and by this my Edition and Dedication to your [Page] Honour, come forth, yet more grossely guiltie from me.

Theodorite writes of one Ephres of Syrus an Iland in Asia, who long since composed in diuers kinds of Verses, whatsoeuer appertained to Pietie and Religion: That so they might the more feruently be affected and earnestly desired. The same doth Socrates and Sozomen affirme of Apollinarius; And Gregory Nyssen of Basil and of Nazianzen. Of more proximious and moderne times also Eobanus of Hesse, Beza, Bucanan, and very many more did accomodate themselues (as it were, with a certaine kinde of delightfull Sawce and Seasoning of the Truth) to the illustration and setting forth of the Booke of Psalmes in Verse.

[...] (as Pindarus) Let not then the stormie Stones of dire Detraction be throwne at me, if I in imitation of those worthy imitable Authours haue in verse composed Hoc [...] Religionis argumentum, This often controuerted Subiect of Religion.

The most exquisitely learned Interpreters doe call the Booke of Psalmes, the most sacred sugred Poeme of Gods blessed Spirit; And they giue the reason why Almightie God would haue so excellent a Treasure of his Church to be contriued and contained in verse, viz. [...], that it might be as a Bait to allure and entice men to facile obedience thereunto. The same also is most manifest that Satan (as he is Operum Dei [...] the Ape of Gods Actions) was wont to enfold, wreathe and winde-vp in Verse, all his Oracles which in former ages he vsed to deliuer by his Pythons or Sybils, that by this meanes they might be the more pleasant and acceptable to those which enquired after them. I omit, that Saint Paul out of certaine Poets, as Aratus, Menander and Epimenedes, [Page] quoted diuers Testimonies or amplifications, and not out of any other Heathenish Authors, as neere as I can obserue in his Epistles.

Once also heretofore I my selfe composed a Module in Latine-Verse, vnder the Title of A Combate betweene the Flesh and the Spirit; or, The Warfare of a Christian Souldier. Of our holy Martyrs; And of The miseries of this miserable Life; Since which time, I with Nazianzen [...]: haue cast and prostrated this my Muse at my Sauiours feet, submitting and addicting it wholly to his seruice, and to the setting forth of his pure Doctrine. And whilest I read the elaborate Labours and Diatribae of Diuines, and at intermissiue houres ruminated what I had read; with most feruent desire and full delight, I forthwith put my selfe vpon a versifying Veine, thereby (as well as I might) to strengthen and assist my weake and vntrusty memorie.

The Fruit of this my Labour I humbly Deuote, Dedicate and Consecrate to you (Right Honourable) whom I euer knew (since I euer knew any thing) most exquisitely endued, and adorned, furnisht and accomplisht with all generous and ingenious Vertues and Discipline. Whence, th [...] reason why his Maiesty made you his worthy Principall Secretarie, cannot be Secretly hidden, but most conspicuously euident, to me, to all others: But by this Poeme, the Proeme of my principall intention is, sincerely to lay downe a perpetuall Pledge, and merited Memory of my obsequious obseruance of that great Fauour and Courtesie, wherewith your Honour hath euer graced and embraced mee: And of that firme Faith, which I heere endeuour to defend, and wherein I am most certainely assured, you are most confidently and immoueably settled.

[Page]But I trust your Honourable Courtesie will conniue at and excuse me, if (as I am Acrior paulò [...], a somewhat sharp and tart Opposite to the Antichristian-Crew) the syllables and sentences in diuers places being transposed and alternated, I seeme to say & reiterate one and the same thing: Since that euen from my first vndertaking of this Worke thus once vndertaken, I vndertooke to display and disperse the fragrant and odoriferous Flowers of various Authors, and not onely to write diuers things, but to write them diuers waies, and truely to depaint the power of Popery to be no lesse sumptuously spacious, than auariciously Capacious.

But aboue all, my heart hath eagerly exasperated my Hand and ready Pen (to the vtmost of my power) to pull downe the intolerable and abominable Pride of Rome: whereby her Babylonicall Bishops haue with the Hornes of their Insolency, butted at the Princes of the Earth, shewing themselues to be nothing else, indeed, than the sirely Sons of Saturne, and an aspiring Off-spring of robustious combustious Phaetontine haughty Spirits.

Neither shall the Reader finde heere any flourishing veines or straines of painted Poetry and fabulous Fictions: My prime purpose, in the fashioning and framing of this Honey-Combe, being, to furnish it with a more beautifull Cluster of Theologie, than a bountifull Crop of Poesie.

Nor haue I been ambitiously busie, to cite my Authors Names on the Margines: For, what I write, I write to those, who (as Saint Augustine saies, are willing to reade, and wise to vnderstand; and who together with mee, doe either already know, or easily may know, whatsoeuer I haue writ.

[Page]Finally, Heere, you ha [...]e neither a few, nor all matters touching the Romish Religion; Let whoso will, giue my Booke a Bill of Diuorce: But from your right Honourable Humanity, and Customary Courtesie, I vndoubtedly expect, and hope to find, Fauour for what I haue done, and Pardon for what I haue pretermitted and left vndone.

Your Honours most duely deuoted, GEORGE GOODVVINNE.

THE TRANSLATOVR TO HIS TRVELY INGENVOVS and most ingenious Authour.

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Mr.

Gall'd-backed Babel, dost thou kicke and winch,

Enrag'd with smart of Goodwinnes tart Balme-Plaster?

O may it sting thee still, and pricke and pinch

Romes corrupt crue, and her most leprous Master!

God (yet) giue grace, that Some may some Good-win,

Enlightned by Gods guide, to see Romes sin.

Goodwinne did This, One speciall end propound

Of his sweet Satyres: And euen so doe I,

Of my meere Oaten-Pipes plaine rusticke sound,

Deriu'd (rare Goodwinne) from thy Melodie:

Wherein poore Pan hath curious Orpheus found,

Inimitable in his Harmonie.

Needs then (I say) must Mine be all the blame,

Not Thine, if Romes Wilde-beasts be not made tame:

Excuse, therefore (kinde Sir) what's mis-committed;

Pardon, I pray (if ought be ill-omitted)

Your most truely louing friend, I. V.

To the most Dis-courteous Momish Catholike, whose greatest Grace is a graceles gracious Kisse at his Vn-holy Fathers Great-Toe, Greeting.

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ROmish Catholike, to Thee

This I send, if Bee thou be,

Or if Waspe or sting-lesse Drone,

Or if humming Hornet knowne;

Herein, Thou shalt Flowers find,

Various for thy curious mind:

Whereon thou maist suck thy fill,

And with Romish Momish skill,

(By thy Honey-thighs, to thriue)

Garnish, furnish Romes Bee-Hiue.

Heere, the Pope, thy Master-Bee,

Christs Vice-gerent, thou maist see,

Peters Heyre-apparent true,

Claiming as his proper due,

Heau'n, Earth, Hell and Purgatory,

Farre transcending Them in glory:

To whose Keyes and Crosier-Staues

Kings and Keisars must be Slaues:

And, all this, for right and good

Is, seene heere, as cleare as mud.

[Page] Heere is shown, how Thy great Father

Planted hath for Thee to gather,

Plants which doe Christs Plants excell,

Flowers which haue more fragrant smell

Than the Scriptures Killing-Letter,

Therefore making Honey better▪

Whereby Romes most sacred Hiue,

And sweete Swarmes full fatly thriue:

Heere, Thou Henbane-Merit hast,

Broad-way Flowers, here, are plac't:

Asse-Cucombers, Cats-tayle tall,

Wolues-claw, Goose-grasse, great & small.

Goat-Beard, Bucke-Beanes, Dragons-Blood,

Mad-hearbe, Cog-wort, and Popes-wood.

Penny-male, and Female faire,

Virgin-marke, and Maidens-haire.

As for Scriptures Hearbe of Grace.

Patience, Hearts-ease, These, as base,

Hee hath for thy sake displac't,

Lest they should offend thy taste:

Or, if tasted, Him displease,

And his totall Swarme disease.

Therefore, those that most delight Thee,

Stand heere ready to inuite Thee.

Then, seeke, sucke, what Thou thinkst best,

And, to Honey-Combes digest,

What thou hast so well collected,

And Fellifluously confected:

That, so, Thou, and all the Swarme

In your Hiue may chaunt and charme.

As for Mee, the onely gaines

I could wish for all my paines,

[Page]Is, that my best Helpe, prest Power,

Able were to teare the Tower

Of proud Babels Master-Bee,

Master of much Villanie;

Whose decay and downefall di [...]e,

Truely, duely, Hee'l desire,

Who is a hearty Ill-willer to the im-pure hollownesse of his im-pious Holinesse, IOHN VICARS.

IVDGEMENT VPON HIS WIT.

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IF e're Translatour did deserue a Bayes,

It is thy full desert, nor full thy Prayse.

They changed sad-Inuention; you, briske Wit

Formes and Transformes, vnto all formes of it;

Rendring in most, the straine, in all, the sense:

The Wits will feare thy sting, and get them hence.

If any stay and pish; the cause is seene,

The matter ▪ not thy manner, moves their spleene.

Bloud-rudilie Rome, thou hast drawne much Saints blood:

This hath drawne Thine; pray God it does thee good.

If this faile with the rest, th'art d [...]sp'rate, sure,

No Balme, for Babel, nought that Wh [...]re can cure.

You haue my Censure, had you Romes Cens [...]res too,

They could be but as I am,

All for you. THOMAS SALISBVRY Bach. in Diuinitie.

The Argument of the Poeme.

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ONce, Satan hatch't an Egge, full of foule Hope,

Whose Birth, by Fraud and Pride became a Pope:

How fondly men breake Serpents Egges? Romes pride

Dos't to their hand, and giues a Pope beside.

Another.

The Popes great Pride and Pompe Emperiall,

Did make him Head, will make him head-long fal [...].

Against Papall Supremacie.

Romes High-Priest, late, like Sol, aloft did shine,

Like falling-S [...]arre ▪ now, droops, drops, feares his fall;

His patent Rule, by potent Wrath diuine,

Now, turnes to Ashes; late a Cedar fall.

Another.

As encreast, decreast is the Popes great power:

And Rome, which flourisht, fades, now, like a flower.

A Briefe of the Romish Religion.

Of all Summes, here's the Summary, chiefe Summe;

That vnderneath the Popes Rule, Faiths Rule come.

The Satyres of this Booke.

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1 OF the Popes Supremacie.

2 Of the Authoritie of the Pope of Rome.

3 Of the Interpretation of the Scriptures.

4 Of the false Doctrine of the Church of Rome.

5 Of the blasphemous fiction of Merits, and Workes of Supererogation, &c.

6 Of the fond fiction of Transubstantiation.

7 Of the corrupt conditions and wicked liuing in the Citie of Rome.

8 Of the couetous buying and selling of all things vnder the Popes power and iurisdiction.

9 Of the most formidable and abominable Powder-plot by Papists; with their horrible-authorized libertie to perpetrate any villany.

10 Of the holy Reliqu [...]s, Traditions, and other admirable Inuentions of the Church of Rome.

OF THE POPES SVPREMACY.
THE FIRST SATYRE.

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THE ARGVMENT.

Rome striues, contriues, how Popes may vncontrold,

Solely and wholly, Keyes, Crownes, Scepters hold.

ROME, the Worlds wonder, Stage of Mitred Bands,

Hath Papall Power of Empire in hir Hands:

For, heere, the Pope succeeds in Peters Right ▪

Which is as cleere at Noone, as 'tis at Night.

The High-Priests Chaire, heere, Peter placed hath;

But, this, (me thinkes) smels more of Fame than Faith.

Heere, on a seuen-fold Beast, the treble Beast,

With triple-Crowne doth ride, each solemne Feast.

Yea, heere, the Babylonish Bawd most fine,

A Scarlet Godhead, with rich Iemmes doth shine.

[Page]Fie, fie, poore Peter, and penurious Paul,

Doe ye not blush presumptuously to call

Your selues the Popes great Grand-sires? y'are to blame,

That you thus thinke his Holinesse to shame.

Alas, y'are Both deceiu'd, his Papall Throne

Buds, blowes, and blossomes, bigge and broad is growne;

Your Slaue of Slaues, is now a Lord of Lords,

The best of Men no equall Him affords.

Logicke lacks Phrases to define your Pope,

He must haue more then Categories scope;

Hee's yet not found, can find ▪ or firmely say,

What, How, How great's the Pope and Papall sway.

Romes power's distinct, from other powers all,

Of all Powers else, Romes hath no Generall.

The Pope is peerelesse, Rome knowes none more Royall;

This, Realmes, He Men, surmounts past all deniall.

See heere Gods Steward, Heau'ns Controuler great,

Blowne bigge with Badges, swel'd with supreme Seate.

Stately he stalkes and walkes; his Blasphemies

Fill Heau'n and Earth, and his mad Pride implies.

This monstrous Monarch, Tetrach terrible,

Is his Flocks Wonder, Thund [...]r horrible.

Religion brought forth Riches, this rich Daughter,

Repaies her Dam, with Death, not long time after.

All Sacred things their Sacred Pope's aboue;

To Him nought's Sacred, but Golds Sacred loue.

Peter, t' exceede, more than succeed, he ioyes:

Tenths of his Honour, none (almost) enioyes.

His Sea's a Sea of Wealth: But let me chuse

A Man to grace his place; This, Popes refuse.

And why alone to Peter's this Charge giuen?

Why are the Rest from State and Office driuen?

[Page]In Paul, not any, many spots in Peter

We find; why then, for Paul was't not much meeter?

At least, Saint Iohn, whom Christ esteemed Best,

Ought to be priz'd, preferr'd before the Rest.

Yet Peter ne're was deckt with Iems and Gold;

Was no Key-keeper, no Sword-bearer bold,

Rode not with Strappes and Trappes, in Scarlet Gownes;

Not dawb'd with Pearles, or Princely golden Crownes.

Peter, Colleague-ship with the Priests desires;

The Pope, [...]o be the Prince of Priests aspires.

Peter was ne're attir'd Centurion-like;

Peters Successor, oft times, Caesar-like.

Meekenesse gaue to Saint Peter Primacy;

An humble mind was his Priority.

Peter a Fisher, Peters Impe a Fighter;

A Stone was Peters Throne, the Heau'ns his Mitre.

And what was Paul, euen equall to the best;

Greater than he, not any of the rest.

Yet he for Christs sake, ioyes in bonds and blowes:

Ergô, the Pope is greater than Both Those.

Christ of a Heauenly, not an earthly Throne,

Had the Fee-simple; Peter, other, None.

If Christ had heere no Kingdome, how should Hee

Place Peter, where Himselfe would neuer be?

And is't not strange, Heau'ns Kingdomes Key should ope

The doores of Earthly Kingdomes to the Pope?

He which so grossely guls, beguiles each Nation,

Besots himselfe with Reasons depriuation.

Alas, fond Flash, ô earthly glory shallow!

What wry-waies, by-waies tak'st thou, Christ to follow?

Alas, they void not Christs, but Worlds offence;

Which vse to chuse such carnall sottish Sence.

[Page]What Christ prescribes, That Anti-Christ proscribes;

Is't like, that Christ this Function him ascribes?

What Right of Title, Titles-Right is there,

Where nought, but Shew of Title doth appeare?

As Spend-thrifts boast of Title, All being gone;

So, insubstantiate Shades Popes build vpon.

He faineth Christ, but followes Satan still;

Serues God in Words, denies him in his Will.

Th' Apostate Priest sits oft in Peters Chaire;

Whom to call Pope, not Pius, we may dare.

As Polypus sticks to each Rocke of's shape;

And by that craft, few fish his Iawes doe scape:

So, forging, faining, Peter, Christ, Faiths Rocke,

His Pseudo-founded Faith th'vnwise doth mocke.

The Ground-worke's hid, the top is seene to all;

To what end tend these wiles Pontificall?

The reason's plaine, and Pluto's paths lye ope;

What of this false Profession is the Scope?

Now then behold the Popes Monarchike might;

Which, Hee, by Christs allowance claimes as Right.

This Heau'nly Vice-roy, Peters proper Heire:

Christs office holds, sits, shines in Peters Chaire.

The supreme Bishop awelesse, lawlesse quite,

An Earthly god, a two-leg'd monstrous Wight;

Beyond all Beings, great beyond Relation;

The Court, the Church, he rules by vsurpation.

Wheth'r Anti-Christ, Lesse-Christ, or Other-Christ;

With Christ, his Rule, by right, must needs be high'st.

In, vnder, For Christ, all Power heere, in Heau'n;

To this Key-keeper, Rockey Father's giuen.

Thus writ that Faith-lesse frantike

S [...]apleto [...]

Fauourite,

Vnfit (great Iewell) for thy opposite.

[Page]And why may not the Pope, as worthy, claime

The honour due to great Iehouah's Name?

Why maist not call him Iupiter, Earth's Thunder,

Yea Elohim? the Worlds great God of Wonder?

Vnto the

The [...]ope.

Mount (that Mounte-banke saies plaine)

I lift mine Eyes which doth my state sustaine.

That all the World must bow to th' Pope of Rome,

Who e're beleeues not, he to hell doth doome.

As at a becke, the Lord of heauen rules All:

So, here, his Sheepe, the Pope hath at a call.

This Priestly Pilot, (for, the Church, 'tis knowne,

Is like a Ship) Christs Ship can rule alone.

He which the Popes pipe knowes not perfectly,

Is none of this great Shepheards Sheepe surely.

Others Rule's finite; his is infinite:

Theirs, but a Beame of his All-supreme Light.

His patent Prouince both for Grace and Place,

Specious and spacious, bowes before his face.

As with huge Waues, the Sea, small dewes doth sup:

So his great Power, lesse Powers deuoures, drinks vp.

Therefore He in submission, to him holds,

Captaines, Commanders, Shepheards, Sheepe, Sheepe-folds.

He's poore, can count his flockes: this Shepheard great,

Pauperis es [...] numerar [...] pecuspunc;

Hath farre moe Sheepe, than foode for them to eate.

Councels and sacred Synods he excels;

An hyperbolicke-Priest in Gods house dwels.

This Romish Briareus; Hydra fell,

For Hands and Head, to rule, doth all excell.

To th' Councell, this Cosmopolite once came,

A Iudge, a Partie, Guiltie, One, the Same.

But what need Councels, when their Pope Diuine

Can all Diuine Decrees, finely define [...]

[Page]O yes; by Councels, is the right way knowne,

To Him which hath sound iudgements praise alone.

Euen He alone, which without Councels aid,

Remoues Faiths Rubs, and Wrackes, by doubts displaid.

To Peters chaire Errour can ne're come neere;

Which, that [...]he Pope enioyes, doth plaine appeare.

He may doe-ill, not Erre, in any case:

If once He sit in that All-prying Place.

If Baalam, Caiaphas, Right did Prophetize:

Why may not wicked Popes doe so likewise?

Yea though they Pilate, Iudas base, transcend:

Yet may a traiterous Pope, be Faiths good Friend.

He sweares to Lies, by Lying oft deceiues:

Yet, his loose tongue to Faith stickes-fast and cleaues.

Let Alexander, Iulius, witnesse beare:

Whose fained Faith, firm'd and infringed were;

Who got the Popedome Foxe-like, craftily;

Reign'd like a Lion, like a Dogge did die.

He that Christs Court and Sheepe-cote thus doth gaine,

Is not a Friend, but Fiend; no Balme, but Bane.

That Swines-snout, Sergius, Sergeant of the deuill;

Was to his Chaire a Scoffe, a Scurffe most euill.

Pius the fifth, Im-pius, within, without,

How 'gainst Eliza, shot he darts, about?

Vrbane the third, a Bane, A-bad-one, right;

Strange Popish chaos caus'd by furious fight.

That Brand of Hell, foule Heldebrand also:

With what mad mischiefes did he ouerflow?

Christ chain'd vp Satan, but thy Potentate,

O Rome, doth let him loose to deuorate.

That Christ Church then, may flourish, firmely stand,

'Tis time the Pope were puld downe out of hand.

[Page]O how this Prelate differs from that Prince,

Which was both poore and pure in Innocence?

Surely this Worlds Arch-Metropolitan,

Seekes somewhat more then Christ, not knowne to man.

For, Christ to be Faiths head, when was it read?

Yet this Arch-father must be faiths Arch-head.

And Tortu [...] with his Torture hath so fram'd;

That Christ is great, the Pope is greatest, nam'd.

His Masticke and Stigmaticke-Slaues doe dare,

To giue the Pope, what ere be ne're so rare.

Most-holy, Great'st, Supreme, Superlatiues,

Are the Popes due, and not plaine Positiues.

Great Alexander, Pompey, Charles the Great:

But he's most-Mightie, h'as the Greatest seate.

Christ prayes to God, and sayes, O holy-Father:

To th' Pope, his Shauelings say, Most-Holy, rather.

We must not mint these termes, or vse lesse phrases:

Diminitiues deduct from his high praises.

Of Peters Titles is not lost a tittle,

Nor from the Popes praise wanteth the least little.

Romes Monkish-mad-men crouch vpon their knee,

To kisse his Seate, his Feet, for so 't must be.

Thus not the Prime, but Supreme Power is sought,

And vnto God he's almost equall thought.

For he tha [...] Popes rare Titles rightly prizeth.

Holds him Almightie, when to th' chaire he riseth.

This loftie Leuite holds, iniuriously,

The piller, prop, of Prin [...]ely Soueraigntie.

Iudge of all Iudges, is this Drudge of Drudges:

Which, who denies, to fire, away he trudges.

So vile, so seruile is the yoke, alas,

Which this Iol [...]-hea [...] makes ore Kings heads to passe.

[Page]And why? the Pope is Pastor, Kings are Sheepe;

Is't not He then, must them in order keepe?

But when Christ left his Sheepe to Peter, pray,

Tell me, Feed thine, or my sheepe, did he say?

But, Kings are said to feed; which, being so,

How then the Pope is not a

No, for he is a Wolfe in [...] Sheepes c [...]at.

Sheepe, I'd know?

And did Christs comming Kings right [...]erminate?

Vsde he his power Kings power to lacerate?

Alas, if Romes High-Priest so potent were:

On a small thred Kings Hopes would hang, I feare.

If Crownes to Crosier-Staues should subiect be,

By fatall date their falls we soone might see.

What haue Kings done, what angry God displeas'd,

To be of Power, by Papall power eas'd?

But what's the Pope to th' Prince? Crosse-Caps to Crownes?

Are Swords for Peter? Scepters fit for Clownes?

Haue Popes a Ladder, than Kings Thrones more high?

Or rather, reaching Hells profundity?

Not poore-mens gaine, but Princely Raigne hee scrapes:

And,

Aquila non capit Muscas.

Eagle-like, at Flyes he neuer gapes.

Kings from their Crownes, for Heresie he driues:

Pesants may scape in body, goods, and liues.

This Mitred Molech, Priestly Dagon stout,

Satan for's Basshaw, Champion, hath pickt out.

Wearing by's side a gallant Bilbo-blade;

And not with Words, but Swords, doth soone perswade.

Is this to preach, and people poore to teach▪

O, no, in's head Hee hath a further reach;

Namely, to cut downe Leban C [...]dars tall:

To fell high Oakes, and cause bright Starres to fall.

Not Iupiter-Capitoline, alone,

But Mars Capitolin [...] Hee must be knowne.

[Page]When this great Paedagogue of Princes, shakes

His scourging Rod, Kingdomes to quake he makes.

Who, if he forge, Paul, Peter, Tyrants vilde:

His Brow is Brasse, he hath his Faith defilde.

Thy Substitute (O Christ) which Thine exceeds,

Them often with much dread, no doctrine feeds.

His Power's a Pasture to mens soules most bitter:

His flockes to kill, then well to fill, much fitter.

Christ had his Vnction: he combustion fire:

Christ mild [...]ly heales: he heales mens wounds most dire.

O Spouse of God, thy Corne, is Cockle growne:

When thy House-keeper will be Keisar knowne.

He sits not idle which i'th' chaire doth sit:

Yet hath for's flocke no food, affection fit.

The scope of's hope is still to keepe downe Kings:

Saue this, impertinent he holds all things.

Thus all his vassals from aloft he spies:

His Myrmidons, his Waspes, his Butter-flies.

He ore-lookes all wheres'ere, from top to toe:

Puls downe the tallest Mounts, and laies them low.

And that al this is good, the reason's plaine:

Drawne from example, with all might and maine.

Bees, Masters haue: Cranes Guides: Bell-weathers, Sheepe:

These proue that Popes may all men vnder-keepe.

And by this Art, this Worlds Arch-Primate may

Typhaeus-like, o're Kings and Clergie sway.

But faine I would the Popes great Myrer doffe:

And with's owne Sword Goliahs head smite-off.

Why should not one King ouer all Kings raigne▪

A Head of heads, a Guide of guides most plaine.

Why is thy head (Christ) spectable to all?

When as thy Kingdome is Spirituall.

[Page]Alas, the Clergies swelling Tympany

Of Pride, gaue God this monstrous Emperie,

That two crosse-heads of one set kingdome be,

This set in Heauen, that (Earth) set ouer thee.

A Gulfe's betweene these Heads, agree ne're shall:

God's sp'rituall head, the Popes materiall.

Christs Kingdome is ith' world inuisible:

Admits no head, officiall, sensible:

Ne'r [...] did Christs Spouse, two heads, two husbands know:

Christ onely her deere pheere, the Church doth owe.

If Anti-Christ (pray tell me) should be mad,

Could Christ be ioyn'd to such a head, so bad?

Againe, Christ left his Church much Goods, most good:

(Th' are so indeed, since purchast with his blood)

If Christ, his Church so rich a dowrie gaue;

From thee (proud Pope) what new-found wealth may't haue?

Art thou the Churches Head? Heart, Corps, and all,

(Which were blasphemous) then we might thee call.

And if the Pope were Head, the Church would be

Headlesse, like Dagon, in Popes Vacancie.

Now, as the Body, with the Head doth die:

The Pope once dead, the Flocke must liuelesse lie.

Which is not so in Christ, who though once dead;

Yet then did liue, as our spirituall head.

See then ambitious vilely vicious Pope:

The ruine of thy iarres, thy warres, thy hope.

And yet this great Anteus of proud Rome,

Doth stoutly from his fals newforce resume.

With Wit argute, will quicke dispute, and spit,

At Right, and Reason, and all Rules of it.

Thus Rome; Are Priests held Heads? the Pope Priests Head?

May not then Popes the Heads of Heads be sed?

[Page]This shallow Reason reasonlesse and wrong,

Proues not chiefe Power to Popes, for to belong.

Can any Pastor be all Pastors chiefe?

(But Christ alone) to giue his Church reliefe?

On whom so great doth Romes great Head subsist?

What one head can so many heads assist?

O fond befooling of mens fantasie:

To shape, to set vp such a prodigie.

For, 'tis aboue, beyond, 'gainst, deepe conceit,

Of all mens heads to make one head so great.

And it may be (nor is this may be vaine)

This grosse-head doth much swelling sores containe.

That part's enorme doth not conforme to th'rest:

And can the sound the sicke part well digest?

So when weake frames by rotten props are staid,

These being crackt, the worke is wrackt, decaid.

O worke vnworthy, worthy hatred still!

Than which there's nought more crosse to Gods blest will.

O Peters lawlesse heire, Christs counterfeit!

Full of Satanicke iugling, slie deceit.

O hideous, heinous Monster, blinde, mishapen;

In Gods Church, as God, for God, oft mistaken.

What helpe can this base helplesse Man of Sinne,

Thy deadly foe (O Christ) to thee bring in?

What is a Waue to th' Sea; to th' Wood, one Tree?

A Torch, to th' Sunne, Mans helpe, O God to thee?

He which would thus Christs loue and labour minish:

Doth but a Worke of scoffe and laughter finish.

This botching Bishop, Romish prodigall;

Makes either Toyes, or naught, or nought at all.

And I much maruell, all the World throughout,

Bring not their aide, to bring this worke about.

[Page]A vselesse Key, on's Head a treble Twist;

A formall Crooke, fatall, officious Fist:

These are Romes high Priests most peculiar Signes;

To these rare Workes himselfe he most enclines.

Alas, his Brow is Brasse, Marble his Minde;

Which, to Christs Body, thinkes this head's not ioyn'd.

For to this high-topt Towre of Babels throne,

The Churches Guide, Gods Guard, are linkt in one.

Apocal. 5.6.

Great Lambe of God, enlightning seuen Lamps bright:

What need hast thou of any new-found light?

O Christ, thy Kingdome of this world is not;

Satan, this Worlds great Soueraigntie hath got:

Which, being so, this Romish Ghostly Father,

May be the diu'ls, than Christs head, much the rather.

Is Pluto prince, doth he a Vicar need?

Thou then, proud Pope, maist fitly him succeed.

How oft (O Rome) hast thou thy Head expeld?

How many Heads, at once, hath thy chaire held?

How oft with broiles hath thy false Church beene rent?

By double, treble Heads most turbulent.

Oft had thy Church, in Wombe, seditious Seed:

Which Anti-Popes and Pseudo-Popes did breed.

Oft hath Ambitions Horse his Rider cast:

And broke his necke, riding to th' chaire too fast.

And their Succession, whereof they so glory,

Quite worne, quite torne, witnesse authentique Story.

So many mightie Battailes haue beene bred,

'Bout Supreme Seate and Titles of chiefe-Head.

Mad-brain'd Ambition, Titius enuious heart:

Being cause of much deceit and deadly smart.

The Prelates pompe, by too great growth decaid:

And Pride and Plentie their owne graues haue made.

[Page]Christ then, our great chiefe Pastor, holds both these:

Contention theirs, [...]eares not Christs Coate of Peace.

Heere Concord hath h [...]r Temples fixed station;

One Heart, one Faith, one Path, and one Saluation.

O! What a Head did then Christs Temple guide?

When a faire Popesse did i'th' Chaire reside?

When falsely termed Iohn, indeed, Pope Ioane,

By her foule Birth, true Whore of Rome was knowne?

Shee was indeed Romes Bishoppesse, not Head:

And, of her Plocke, the Taile, the shame, and dread.

Thus Romes [...]are Prelates were not Fathers, all:

This one, w [...] may their Ghostly M [...]ther call.

O ominous portent, ô horrid Signe!

Surely, that day vncloudy did not shine.

What? could a Woman, Where, the Chaire inherit?

Androgini, populi, vtrisque Naturae.

Androginus might it more iustly merit.

But (first it may be) She a Man was knowne

But chang'd her Sex, and was a Woman growne:

For, thus writ

Dialogo 10. pag. 47.

Cope, scarce copious in capacity,

Whose wit herein, sauour'd of much Fooleacity.

This, this was that Ecliptick Line, once gliding,

Betweene Romes Skie, and Popish Zodiacke biding.

But yet a Whore (the Salick Law well held)

Should from the Chaire, at least, haue bin expell'd.

I know, Rome holds this fact, a faigned Lye:

Though faithfull Authors doe it iustifie.

But, now, that neuer Foemale Popes may raigne,

Their Manhood, first, by fruitfull Signes is plaine.

But tell me this, Ghostly Gargantua;

Is Christ thy Head? He is (no doubt) thou'lt say:

Sufficeth th [...]e, this Head? Yes: Well, why then,

As well as thee, not Mee, and other Men?

[Page]If any rouing Reason fauours Thee,

Or fits thy Foe; why may't not stand for mee?

Silenus and his drunken Droues heere stagger:

This cunning Crafts-man must with Reason swagger.

Wherefore, hence-forth this triple-crowned Deity,

Shall ere, be held a Pseudo-Popish Monarchy.

The Capitall great Logger-head of all;

Trascendent Head, huge, right Pontificall;

Or els a Heape of Heads, a Chaos rude:

Such Head, such heape, nor wit, nor writ, ere shew'd.

The Rule that May-tide Lords of Mis-rule finde,

Such Lord, such Lawes let be to Rome assign'd.

If of Christs Body Popes bee Head; by right,

They may, as well, be Health, Heart, Life, Light, Sight.

But if no other Basis can be laid:

No other Head may heere on Earth be made.

Well, pur-blind Bayard, one day thou shalt raigne:

And headlesse, Dagon-like, thy Blinde maintaine.

When all Sun-shunning Owles, one huge Head haue;

Thou shalt be then, the Worlds Block-head most braue.

But, in all ancient Fathers, ne're was read,

That of Christs Body any Priest was Head:

Christ left his Church, true Treasure to enioy:

What wealth did Christ to the Popes vse employ?

Three Creedes the pristine Fathers left behind:

In none of them, Popes supreme power we find.

Nor ere did they which did our Creedes indite,

Of Apostolique Proto-Popes ought write.

Surely, the Popes Prerogatiues most high,

They neuer saw, or seene, sham'd to descry.

Hee, then; which hath bin Head, of's Iay-like pride,

Shall be made bare, the world shall him deride.

[Page]Prize not, fond Foole, thy Torch aboue Sols light:

Ther's no such need of Popes Vicegerent might.

What ere is Chiefe, is Head, Heads Riuals hate:

One Head, cannot Another tolerate.

This Fable then of Peters Power, thus failes;

Which, with Saint Peters Chaire, are old-Wines, tales.

OF THE AVTHORITY OF THE POPE OF ROME.
THE SECOND SATYRE.

[Page]

The ARGVMENT.

Heauen is hemm'd in; Seaes Waues haue Walls, a Bound;

But, the Popes Power hath no Enclosure found.

OF all the World Romes Pope is President:

Hee rules the Reines of rouing Regiment.

All Power to Popes (witnesse a Pope) is giuen;

Of right, of wrong, on Earth, in Hell, in Heauen.

Hee giues, hee takes, makes rich, makes poore, high, low:

Makes vowes, breaks vowes, makes bloody battailes grow.

Hee's Frantick, frets, Mars-like molesteth all:

With two two-edged Swords, doth fight and brawle.

Yet, this prodigious Priest does all by Law:

All well, for why? he Errour neuer saw.

Hee'le turne, turne backe, turne topsie-turuie quite;

And yet can ne're doe ought but iust and right.

And this high-Priest may, with due Worthinesse,

Call the whole world his proper Diocesse.

[Page]

Faso [...]rum lib. 2.

Ouid hath this Dogmatically showne;

The World, and Romes large Reach are both but one.

Hee's out of Natures Fold, Hee's Hee-Alone:

Colleague or Legall-Rites, the Pope knowes none.

Hee, Hee's the Worlds Prince, Prelate, high 'boue all:

Rapt vp ith' Clouds, of Starres the principall.

This Priestly Turret, Apostolique Head,

Can (vnder Christ) by none be equalled.

Thus Romes proud Chaire or takes, or makes Elated:

With such strange pride Romes Titan is sufflated.

Pleasing things, pious; impious must bee,

What ere displease; this is the Popes Decree.

His Thunder, Earth; His Furies fright euen Hell:

Except what-ere he doth, you deeme done well.

His Lawlesse Kings vnder his Lawes to thrall,

Is his Great, greater, greatest worke of all.

This large Law-Giuer, Guider, Rights Vmpire;

But what is iust, can nought affect, desire.

If Land to Sea he ioyne, and Sea to Land:

What Ca [...]aphas cals Right, for right must stand.

He builds, vnbuilds, plaies fast and loose with Law:

And who complaines, he soone restraines with Awe.

Lo, to the World the Pope (VVorlds Sol, most bright)

Is come; yet nien loue Darknesse more than Light.

Surely, not hee, to Peters pompe which hies,

Creates a Pope; but which Popes Deifies.

Hee's th'only Man, which nobly, notably,

Himselfe before All Men can magnifie.

Hee may be said, and with the finger showne,

Conspicuous Christ, Visible God alone.

Hee hath, and must haue, wealth, far more than Kings:

For why? Romes Chaire must want no needfull things.

[Page]Hee must haue Kings their Scepters to lay downe;

And from his Feete to fetch their regall Crowne.

And reason good, to Miters, Crownes should creepe:

The Miter, not the Crowne, makes Priests for Sheepe.

He hath those firme Foundations of Romes See:

Which Peter held, and by God settled bee.

Hee of all Kingdomes hath the supreme Grace:

And hee (O Christ) holds, heere, thy stead and Place.

Hee must not onely bee, of Councels, Head;

But he alone would bee in Councels stead.

Hee can of Scriptures raine downe showers thicke:

That at his words Heretikes perish quicke.

'Tis no great fault if he false Latine speake.

And with

For Fiat. Iulius the 2.

Fiatur, Priscians head doe breake.

Hee which dares say, this Lawier's not best able

To cleere all doubts; must be held execrable.

Though hee (most blockish) faile ith' Premises,

Yet iustly he concludes all businesses.

If he the right-hand call the left; Night, Day;

Thou must not dare his Holinesse gaine-say:

This is that great Ring-leader to the Rest;

Whose Steps to tread, his Bishops must be prest.

Thy guilt, is grieuous, grosse, abominable,

If what he doth, thou deeme not warrantable.

Hee can, as eas'ly, from his thundring Throne,

Spoile Hereticks, as Nut-shells with a Stone:

Harke, Heretike, which scorn'st Romes Sacrifices:

Burne, Heretike, which stop'st Popes Enterprises.

Hee scornes a Iudge to plead in his Defence:

Hee's Holier, Higher, than the highst offence.

All must to him be bare, and bend the knee;

But he to none, of ne're so high degreee.

[Page]Since hee hath power All to proscribe, indite:

Spare the Popes Crimes; you which of Times doe write.

To th' Buyer nought's more deare, more deere Reliefe:

Than His in Wax, in Lead, ith' Bull and Briefe.

Fit Fellows for him, are th' Arch-Angels bright:

Namely, good Michael, soueraigne Gabriels might.

His onely Lust is Law most iust and pure;

All right made gainst him, hee'l by right abiure.

Without, aboue, cleane contrary to Right:

His Canons hold, all things are in his might.

Others may plead, Hee Lawes prescribes, alone;

Euen hee which hath the prime Pontifick Throne.

Within a Shell thou maist the Sea containe:

As soone as Popes rights within Bounds restraine.

If (as a wild-Beast) Hee the Hunter feare:

Hee can most nimbly skip and scape his Speare.

Power, makes his passage, Lawes brasse barres he breakes.

And who is he that 'gainst Popes pleasure speakes?

Hear'st thou,

Superbor [...] Principum Typus.

Salmonean Tarpey's thunder crack?

Bee still, quicke doe Romes Will, or feare thy wracke.

Doth weake wrath slow from Encelade alone?

Are Leaden Bulls as flying Gulls now knowne?

Diuels Dish, Wraths Child, Hells fuell, thou art straight,

If thou once dare the Pope to irritate.

This halfe-God-Priest, Corporeall Deity:

Steward, Sub-Iustice of Iehouah high:

Earth's Mitred Atlas, passing mans condition;

Indocible in Limits of his Dition.

Symbolick-Christ, Bar-Iona's Sonne notorious;

Christs God head hath; with Peters pompe is glorious.

Nay more; this Lesse-Christ, more than Christ will haue;

Than Peter, Petty-Peter's farre more braue.

[Page]Christ hid himselfe, when Men, Him King would make:

The Pope by fraud and force doth Kingdomes take.

Christ, on a Colt, rode; but Vice-Christ must bee

On great-Mens shoulders borne, that All may see.

The

Satan.

Prince oth' World, Worlds pompe, shew'd thee (O Christ)

Which thou didst shun; So doth not Anti-Christ.

O Christ, thy Kingdome of this World is not:

But thy House-holder holds this World, his Lot.

Christ giues Gifts, gratis; gratis, so, giues Hee:

But 'tis to Gratefull, greater gifts to see.

Christ, Harlots gifts ith' Temple would not haue:

The Pope with such, fils vp his Bags most braue.

Christ purg'd his Temple of all things, there sold:

The Pope, ith' Temple, buyes and sells for Gold.

And who now doubts, (but the whole world per [...]hance)

That Christ did this great Chapman thus aduance?

This Slaue of Slaues, glistring in Gold most bright;

With's thick, quick Lightnings, doth Gods Flocke affright;

This Priests Goliah; Nubuchadnezzers

Fulmineous Flame, his shiu'ring Sheepe much feares.

Christ, sure, hi [...] Sheepe with such Hornes did not arme;

But made them [...]ilde, [...]o beare; not Strong, to harme.

Say; Is the Pope a Prince of Peace? nay rather,

Hee is Warres-Worker, mouer, onely Father.

Worlds Floods Hee Muds, in Muddy Waters, best,

Romes wilie Weeles catch Fish; too manifest.

Thus, this Great Bishop Kingdomes doth annoy:

Thus supreme Rule he holds fast, doth enioy.

Holds, and [...]nioyes (I say) but All thus got;

This Priestly Meteor holds by theeuish Lot.

Kings he depose [...]h, Kingdomes doth dispose;

And on all Monarchs doth his Yoke impose.

[Page]Satan being Guide in Martiall pride, These same,

With Victors voice, his Vassals, he doth name.

For, the Popes parlour keepes a Key in store;

Which, vnto Kings Thrones lockes, vnlockes the doore.

To th' Laitie, Lawes 'gainst their King he giues;

And from their King, his Clergie lawlesse liues:

For, they are Subiects, not by Law, but Lust;

And onely as their Reason holds it iust.

If he o're Kings Dictator cannot be;

The Plebeans Tribune, soone you shall him see.

For he doth Monarchs, Commons-creatures, call;

That so at's Will their Thrones may stand and fall.

If Peters Key, to Peter cannot frame

Kings Scepters; then, Pauls Sword shall doe the same.

Feuers to Plagues. Scabs turne to Leprosie,

If Romes Physicion bring not Remedie.

This ramping Lion fils all parts with horrour;

His Flockes in Field he frights with feare and terrour.

Peeres wait at's Board, Monarchs his Bridle hold

His very Feet are kist by Champions bold.

'Twas the Popes voice; an Emp'rours necke, alone,

Was th' Aspe and Basilishe he'd trample on.

To hold his Stirr [...]p Kings must crouch and bend;

Whiles this great Priest on horsebacke doth ascend.

An Emp'rour kneeles, whilst he with high renowne,

With hand and f [...]t, puts on, puts off his Crowne.

This Popish Latro-Monarch th' Eagles plumes

Plucks off; yea Emp'rours Crownes and Iems assumes.

See; doe not Popes succeed in Peters place?

Does not Christ, Them, his Substitutes embrace?

A Scarlet Stole, gold Stoole, with Garl [...]nd crown'd,

With worldly wealth, pompe, glory, thus renown'd;

[Page]With Starre-like Iems, and sparkling Stones most precious,

Voluptuous Life, much Ease, Riot, pernicious;

Persian apparell, stiffe Necke, glistering Head;

A shining Crest, gay Shape, Front garnished:

Wagging his Diamond-sparkling fingers fine,

Proffering to kisse his Hand and Feet diuine;

Gazing on's Troope and Traine, while each one sings,

Haile the Worlds Father, our great King of Kings,

Borne on Mens-backes, while mighty Monarchs must

Prop-vp his Pride; and from their Thrones be thrust.

Bearing in's hand the sacred Keyes of Rome,

Earths high Tribunall, vnder Christ t'assume;

Forcing hells Fiends (his Friends) to doe his will;

And heauens Angelike Hoast his Hest fulfill:

Taken for God, and taking cleane away

Sins Guilt: yea op'ning all Heau'n-Gates, for pay;

Drown'd in delights of all sorts; with mad pride,

He celebrates each Gourmandizing-Tyde.

These, truely, these are holy Popes best Signes:

These, Peter had, these God to them assignes.

Who'le then deny (but he that's well in's wits)

But Popes to be Gods Stewards, well befits?

He can giue Heau'n to th' Heinous, and bestow

Faiths Crowne on those, in treason that oreflow.

Falshood is Faith; true Worship, Coniuration:

(So please the Pope) and Truth, Equiuocation.

If by one-Plot the Publike-weale had perisht:

So please the Pope; that-Plot must needs be cherisht.

If Parricides in Parents sides, their sword

Should sheath; the Pope quicke pardon could afford.

Yea, all, Law-breakers shall be faultlesse held:

So please the Pope; who Lawes doth rule and weild.

[Page]Rule's, out of Rule; Law, Lawlesse, guidelesse, all:

When pleaseth this High-Priest Pontificall.

And though 'gainst Christ, blaspemous words be spoke;

(If from his holy-Mouth) they turne to smoke:

That poorely-pure Leo the tenth durst say:

What talke we of that Tale of Christ, I pray?

O holy Speech; and for Faiths Fostrer fit:

For him which in the High-Priests Chaire doth sit.

It shewes indeed (Monarchicke-Pope) most plaine;

Of Christ, thou, nought but Title dost retaine.

Thus hast thou (Thou all-daring impious wight)

Thy gastly Gorgons, sottish Sects, to fright;

Thou Kingdomes, Kings, dost thus, tame, terrifie:

Thus mak'st thou foes yeeld most submissiuely.

Thus vnto thee (witnesse thy selfe) was giuen

Pow'r of the double-slicing Sword, from heau'n.

If, in one-hand, that two-fold brandisht Blade

Thou shake, day, night, light, darkenes; straight is made.

All's become comely, which vncomely seem'd,

If Crownes be thine, if th' Ephod such be deem'd.

But here, the Moralists, facetious Fable

Seemes, thee, to paint, a Iugler admirable:

While the fond Camell wisht for Hornes, deni'd;

His fore-giuen Eares he lost, for's foolish pride:

So whilst the Pope both Swords to gripe doth gape;

Shortly he shall lose both, desert of Rape.

Thus, thus 'tis plaine (or I my selfe deceiue)

All's his that Christ did to prime Peter leaue.

The Pope is Peters Heire of All; likewise,

As Prince of Priests he thus doth Peterize.

Nor God nor Man, nor both; but twixt both dubious:

A two-legg'd Thing, monstrous, amphibious.

[Page]A Semi-god, two natures, Ianus-Elfe:

To Pet'r as like as Peter's to himselfe.

Him God ordain'd to sit in Iudgement seate:

And vnder God, Priests Ashuer [...]sh great.

When of Christs Church to Heires their parts were made

All fell to th' Pope (as pilfering Popes haue said.)

He's heau'ns Key-Keeper and House-Keeper great:

To Saints in heau'n, he giues, gai [...]e-sayes a Seat.

To hells deepe dungeon he throwes desperately,

Infinite Soules; yet none dare aske him why.

White into blacke, old, new; squares into rounds

He turnes; but mutter, and he thee confounds.

Thou but whetst wrath, digg'st flames, the Lion sharest:

With taunting termes, if chide the Pope thou darest.

If, once, this Lion, big Behemoth roare,

His breath will blast and beat thee o're and o're.

Then, O dire Fate, too late, thou shalt be taught;

What 'tis this Halfe-man-God, to set at nought,

Maturely, then (lest his fierce fury boyle)

Slacke, and draw-backe the fuell of thy spoyle.

And if thou loue thy selfe vnboyled, yet,

Quickly, submissely, run to Rome, 'tis fit.

For (I thinke sure) thou scarce secure canst be:

When night and day such dangers threaten thee.

O supreme Prelate, Earths God, sacred Sire:

Didst thou for this Christs Sheepefold thus acquire?

To Peters chaire, was such fierce fury giuen?

Are these mens duties seruices, of Heauen?

Art Thou Christs Tipe? dost Thou in's roome reside?

Th'art rather Type of Tarquin's, Plutoes pride.

OF THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SCRIPTVRES.
THE THIRD SATYRE.

[Page]

The ARGVMENT.

Since, 'tis most plaine, Popes can explaine Gods Writ;

To seeke to Them, in All. Doubts, is most sit.

THe Trident Councell hath confirm'd the scope

Of Scriptures to the pleasure of the Pope:

Whose sacred Sense on Romes Hi [...] Priest depends:

And therefore to Romes loue submissely bends.

If not, her Readers shall be sure to finde

Nothing but Wry-wayes, By-wayes, darke and blinde.

For 'tis Gods Word; which none, well, vnderstand:

Vnlesse the Pope pu [...] to his helping hand.

Consult with Popish Rubricks lest thou wander;

This Ariadne guides in Texts Meander.

For of Gods Word he's th' onely Hermes best:

The holy-Ghost being seated in his brest.

And the Popes Word, is Gods Word certainly:

In whom is not least spot of Heresie.

This Wizards quicke Wit picks-out, passing well;

Marrow from bones, Nut-kernels from the shell.

The holy words true sense he sure finds out,

Who else interprets, leaues the text in doubt.

[Page]He onely being Scriptures South-Sayer, sure,

Resolues the doubts of rigid Texts obscure.

Sols day-starre, which, to Christs Church giues pure light:

And doth darke clouds of Errour banish quite.

He's vertues Watch-Towre, rule of Pietie:

Lawes light, and Courts bright-beame of Equitie.

The Sages Starre, Christs birth, shew'd not so right:

As Popes to Christians doe Gods Word enlight.

Like as the Sunne fills All with shine most pure:

So his cleare Light makes bright the Bible sure.

And since his Paraphrase from Errour's free:

Ergo, the Texts pure Sense from him must be.

If at his Candle thou'lt not kindle thine:

Th'art blinde, and Gods Word cannot in thee shine.

The Axetree of Romes Faith rowles hereupon:

That Peters Heire must be thy Master knowne.

And though a Glosse most Grosse the Text doth wrest:

Since, Ipse dixit, that must be the best.

This Library of God, Atlas of Faith,

Commends, condemnes, at pleasure, saith, vnsaith.

But (sure as Sol doth shine) he's the bold Boaster

Of Pietie; false-Prophet, Worlds Imposter.

He, boldly, his opinions doth apply

To Scriptures; but ner're better'd is thereby.

For if thou knewst how he Christs writ doth wrest:

Thou'dst thinke he brow, nor braine, nor heart, possest.

He is (Romes Delius saith) the Delphicke Sword:

Lifes perfect leaden Rule, Gods holy Word.

Pliant t'each Sense, Deuotions doubtfull line;

To false opinions facile to encline.

'Tis Gods owne Word, that Pens of Exposition

Should run with Romes Rites, Practices, Condition.

[Page]The Church, Truths witnesse (a dumbe witnesse, sure)

Must learne from Romes high-Priest to speake most pure.

Thus this worlds Dunghill, Patriarch subtill, slie;

Expounds Gods Word most artificially.

But, whatsoere's vnpleasant to his taste,

His Paraphrase must mend it in all haste.

O Pope, Arts Prop, great Master of the Muses:

Whose holy mouth, faith into all infuses:

Must I (O Clarke of Clarkes most learned, rare,)

Be a Disciple of thy Sacred Chaire?

I'm sure of Pauls and Peters anger, when

Thine Oracle (great Scholiast) I contemne.

Long haue I listned, let me quickly know

The sacred Oracles which from thee flow.

Though Rude, I'm Ready; thou shalt finde me free:

If taught, new-wrought from Rudenesse I may be.

Thus, then: Christ, thrice bad Peter his flocke feed:

Ergo, the Pope must supreme Head succeed.

Christ left his sheepe to Peter to be fed:

Ergo, the Pope is of all Councels Head.

Againe, to feed his Lambs Christ Peter bad:

Ergo, from his mouth Scriptures Sense is had.

Feed, that's to say; the worlds Vice-gerent be:

And let all Regall Scepters bow to thee.

Feed, that's as much, as Curbe, proscribe, and kill:

In this sence Peter did his charge fulfill.

Sing, holy Sir, Saint Peter makes thee sit

His firme Successour, witnesse holy Writ.

On, with this new-found Logicke; Beautifie

Thy thus got charge; thy prize (faire Palmes) is nigh.

Harke now: Christ said to Peter, follow me:

Ergo, he followd Christ, in Emperie.

[Page]Peters firme faith was ne're with blasts oreblowne.

Ergo, Popes faith eclipse hath neuer knowne.

To thee (O Peter) heauens blest Keyes were giuen:

Ergo, the Pope them keepes as Port'r of heauen.

Christ praid for Peter: Ergo, 'tis most plaine;

The Petrean-Parents faith must firme remaine.

Kill and eate: Ergo, Peter must be Head:

For that which eares, that same is sure the head.

Vpon a Rocke Christs Church was built: Therefore,

Peter's a Rocke, the Pope his Paramour.

O Prince of Priests, Bishop of fragrant fame;

Who (tamelesse) tam'st All; heau'n hath will'd the same.

Prop and protect Romes Axetree with more might.

Lest thy Pontifike heau'n be cast downe quite.

Open (O rare Interpreter) for me,

Mo Scripture Nuts that I their Kernes may see.

Others (alas) giue but a glimpse of light:

But thy blest Lawpe giues a great Sun-beame bright.

To thee the Scripture freely opes her heart:

And to thy Cisterne doth full streames impart.

Apollo prompting thee, thou canst conclude,

Ought out of ought ▪ Logicke thou hast subdude.

Expounding's fit for Boyes: sense swims to thee:

Spare oyle and match, thou without Light canst see.

If I an hundred wise Apollos had,

To finde thy force and fraude, they'd all run mad.

On, farther, Father, sit downe in thy Chaire:

Thy word to weigh my prone eares I prepare.

To cast to Dogges things holy 'tis not fit:

Ergo ▪ Rude people must not know Gods writ.

Other things when I come I will dispose:

Ergo, th'Apostle did the Masse compose.

[Page]For thirty Pence our Sauiour was betraide:

Ergo, the Hoste like Pence must needs be made.

Christ was a Rocke: Ergo, to say Masse on,

All Altars must be made of Rockey Stone.

Promise of Life, to Bread, not Wine, was made:

Ergo, the Wine to Laicks is gaine-said.

Who eates this Bread, shall liue eternally:

Ergo, for Hea'un, Bread serues sufficiently.

Priests are ith' Church, like Soldiers Sp'rituall:

Ergo, 'gainst Hell with Songs they rore and yaull.

The fruitlesse Fig-tree, Christ with curse did smite:

Ergo, the Pope may curse and ban by right.

All men shall at his Foot-stoole Him adore:

Ergo, the Pope must on mens backs be bore.

People, of Priests, touching the Law must aske:

Ergo, t'expound is the Popes onely Taske.

An Ethnick let him bee, which heares not Thee:

Ergo, All must receiue the Popes Decree.

It seemed good to th' Holy Ghost and mee:

[...]rgo, the Pope Truths Horologe must bee.

Moses, the Iewes Iarres, to an end did draw:

Ergo, the Popes Law's liuely; dead's Gods Law.

Christ, Tribute paide for Peter: Ergo, than,

The Pope paies none, but catcheth all he can.

O Rabbi rare, Angelicall Expounder!

Whose sense of Sacred-Writ, than all is sounder:

When I a Beefe kill, thou the hornes shalt haue,

For these thy Scripture-Expositions braue.

The pith of Texts is knowne so well to thee;

That for thy vse, they Parrets seeme to [...].

What's next? O shew it, shoote more lightning out:

To scatter trembling Heretikes about.

[Page]Those that liue in the Flesh, please not the Lord:

Ergo, the Pope will Priests no wiues afford.

Melchisedech the Priest no Parents had:

Ergo, Priests to be Parents is most bad.

God hath put all things vnderneath his Feete:

Ergo, the World should be Popes slaue, tis meete.

The Lord two great Lights made: Ergo, Popes Might,

Must be the greatest, lesser Emp'rours Light.

First Heau'n, then Earth was made: Ergo, I hope,

Caesar in pompe, must come behinde the Pope.

The Spirit th' vnbridled Flesh must tame, abase:

Ergo, the Pope of Emperours must take place.

The Father is the Sucklings due Superiour:

Ergo, a King is to the Pope Inferiour.

Sin-Sory Mary kist our Sauiours Feete:

Ergo, that All, the Popes feete kisse, 'tis meete.

Earths Springs, sprung vp, moisten the Earth againe:

Ergo, the Pope (Worlds chiefe) ore all must raigne.

O precious Priest, Worlds Master most admired!

Arts piller, pride, glory, so much desired.

Praise-worthy Prouost, of Witts crafty Schoole:

O the rare Fame of thy Cathedrall Stoole!

Saint Peters Power, amazed, I adore:

Than thy great Name, I make of nothing more.

My thoughts are sharpe, my wits are ready prest,

My Muse is rowz'd, thy Fame to manifest.

Whole Academies, Bay-trees bend to Thee:

Pallas, Apollo, thine Inferiours bee.

To thee tis giuen to know Heau'ns Mysteries:

Thou, for pure sense, art th' only Wizard-wise.

Another Priest, ith' Priest-hood, plac't with Thee:

Hee's but a Calfe; Thou a huge Oxe shalt bee.

[Page]Since, I, at Delphos, Oracles mayn't here:

Thou, thou alone, shalt be my Delius deare.

A fig for all the Fathers; of their light

I scorne to borrow; theirs by thine shines bright.

Thou none dost cheate, nor, none cheats, onely Thee:

Thy sacred word, Gods Canon Writ must be.

Heau'n is thy Studies Stoole, thy sense, the Starres:

And no Eclipse thy shining Iubar barres.

All the trim treasures of Celestiall skill,

The sacred Cabinet of thy brest fill.

The gates of hell against thee haue no might:

Faith doth for Thee, at sword and buckler fight.

Yea thou Christs very thoughts dost throughly know;

And in thy mouth Gods Sp [...]rit springs to and fro.

Why should not then the Worlds loud exclamation,

Sound out to thee Hosanna their Saluation?

Th' art righteousnesse, and Peace's Prince of fame:

Melchisedech, King Salem, chang'd in name.

Since gracelesse Rome, with her vngrounded faith,

Other blest names of Christ to thee giuen hath:

Christ is the first, thou the Worlds second light:

So, golden-Glosses, t'vs grosse-Asses write.

In Christ, her Pheere, the Church, his Deere, is blest:

And thou (Vice-Christ) her Brooker keepst her best.

Christ is that Royall-Head which quickens all:

And thou must be that Head, Subalternall.

The world which Christ protects, is thine owne charge:

Let others take his part, thine's the world large.

Christ and Thou but one Consistorie haue:

Thus vnder him thy rule may realmes be-slaue.

Thou, Cherubins and Seraphins mak'st tremble:

Yea Deuils to doe thy will thou'lt soone assemble.

[Page] Mountaines, to Mole-hils melt; vailes cleaue in sunder:

Seas, are drawne dry, if with thy Voice Thou thunder.

The firey Charret of Elias, straight;

Shall whurrey thee through Clouds, to Heau'n Gate.

In spight of Swords and Shields (great King of Kings)

Earth's Thrones to thy Throne, couple with strong strings.

Thy Royalties with Christs so close agree:

That (as thou iugglest) we no difference see:

Yet (to be plaine) great difference is in th' one:

But being alike, your Powers the like are knowne.

Thou, mai'st infringe; Christ must the Law fulfill:

Laws Debt [...]r Hee, Thou Dispensator still.

What need we Words, when Deeds more plainely speake?

That at thy pleasure, thou Gods Laws canst breake.

By Power of Pope-ship, and the Holy Chaire,

Thou All canst marre; All things, as iust, dost dare.

If ought remaine, to heate it I am prest:

That so thy Clients tired eares may rest.

Hence-forth Ile thee a Fisher of Men make:

Ergo, the Pope in's net may Kingdomes take.

All things are iudg'd by the Spirituall man:

Ergo, the Pope doth all well iudge and scan.

All things are iudg'd by the Spirituall man:

Ergo, iudge Popes, pneumaticke-Lords, none can.

Heere are two Swords: Ergo, they both are Thine:

And euery Kingdome shall to thee incline.

Perish shall euery Land not seruing Thee:

Ergo, all must Popes Tributares bee.

Perish shall euery Land not seruing thee:

Ergo, to th' Pope, all Lands must vassals bee.

Vnder his feet are all things put: Ergo,

All power, this Hyperbolike Pope's below.

[Page]No man can serue two Masters: Ergo, All

Must serue the Pope, and from their Princes [...]ll.

No Seruant is aboue his Master knowne:

Ergo, to blame the Pope, tis fit for none.

Slaues than their Lords, Cynthia than Sol is lesse:

Ergo, ought Kings to Popes their necks depresse.

Many such Lies (Arch-Sophister) thy Wit

Relates; and wrests Gods holy Word to it.

And were not Thine concordant to the same,

'Twere none of Thine, none of it from thee came.

Thy Witnesse call'd, Thoul't tortures adde thereto:

Their right to wrong, their contrary to doe.

Thus Thou a Doctors Charge, Christs Office, thus,

Thou vnder-go'st, and smack'st Gods deepe sense, thus.

Distastefull is thy Taste, th' art Woodden Wise:

Whil'st thou dost broach thy braines fond fantasies.

Thou (Chimicall Expounder) Protean Senses

Giu'st to Gods Word; with an old Foxe pretences.

Yet, no Sence Wrested, Thou the Text dost follow:

For thou art Scriptures Phoebu [...], wise Apollo.

Art thou the Bibles Hermes Touch-stone pure?

Hee that denies it, does most wisely, sure.

OF THE DAMNABLE DOCTRINE IN THE DECEIVEABLE SYNAGOGVE OF SATAN, AT ROME.
THE FOVRTH SATYRE.

[Page]

The ARGVMENT.

Coyned, re-coyned Faith, at Rome, oft hatches

A great Encrease, botcht vp with many patches.

WIth what thicke mists (oh Antichrist prophane)

What, Stygian Chaos, seekst thou Truth to staine?

Of Liuing Streames, poys'ning the sound, sweet drafts,

Digging vp Muddy-Pooles of Lyes and Crafts.

On paine of Heau'ns fierce furie charging All,

Wrong-wrested Texts to hold Authenticall:

Thou scorn'st the Hebrew Conduit-Heads, As though,

From thy Sluce, Slowe, farre fairer Floods did flow.

With Orthodox, Apocryphall false Writs;

VVith Doubtlesse Truth, Fryers Forgeries Rome fits.

Grammaticke, Mystick, Morall, Sphynx-like senses,

Gods Booke must haue, to saue the Popes pretences.

But, since such various Sense, Gods Booke containes:

I wonder how least Sence in It remaines.

[Page]Thus Antichrist, Christs Word, most heau'nly Treasure

Doth explicate, and applicate at's pleasure.

O proud prompt Tyrant of Non-sense or Sense:

Bold Bibliocide, Autographs oft offence:

Great Talmudists, Rare Popish Alchymist:

Whose becke, whose bleat, thy Sheepe lead as thou list.

O how Romes learned Land-markes on her Glosses,

The Popes great pleasure or confirmes or crosses.

Christs Scriptures, you, with Drosse for Doctrine varnish:

That they, thus wrong'd, your Latian-God may garnish.

For, this Metropolite of Sophisters,

Hath of Religion Asse-like Enginers.

And Readers Iester iustly (sure) is Hee,

Whiles thus for profit hee'le Gods Prophet bee.

Faiths Farmer, Framer, formes opinions new:

And would, with His Faiths-Bond, bind Christians true.

Foule fac't: the Worlds Apostate-Generall,

T'himselfe assumes Faiths holy Tenents all.

VVhen once his Annuall pompous Fasts begin,

VVho-'ere eats Flesh, commits a deadly sinne.

Fish they may eate, but to eate Flesh 'tis hated:

Because the Earth, not Sea, was execrated.

Why then eate they bread.

Great ghostly Grand-Sire, Coryphe of Doctors,

Peoples Omega, Alpha of Hels Proctors:

Since thou dost thus such Diuelish doctrines broach,

Is't like, Christs Flock (Thou Guide) can Heau'n approch?

Since thou'lt officiate Satans part so well:

Th'art Commissarie, not of Heau'n, but Hell.

Scriptures, Thou cal'st the Booke of Heretickes:

And these (Mans ioy) thou burn'st like Brands or Stickes.

And though in other Bookes be thousand Lyes:

Onely the Bible as Delinquent Fries.

[Page]In vttrance strange Thy holy things are showne:

Which Ignorants conceiue like stupid Stone.

Hee which to men reades Scriptures fruitfully,

Casts Bread to Dogs, to Hogs doth pearles apply.

Raw stomacks may their holyest things digest;

Their Picture-Pastures famisht Soules fill best.

A Players posture shewes Faiths Mysterie:

And Folkes in Flocks, caru'd Saints doe rectifie.

Thus Bethel's made Bethauen: th' Arke exilde,

Thus Molechs raigne Gods Temple hath defilde.

What talke I of their Glosses of dull Wit?

While their dull Bishop iests with sacred Writ.

Of Gods blest Word, th' abused Maiesty,

Shewes in Romes rout that ther's no piety.

Th' order of pristine Priests was once of Gold:

Now't's Wooden, Why? Wooden Popes Popedomes hold,

Keepers had need be kept; Teachers be taught:

Curates of Cures, be cur'd, lest all be naught.

Illit'rate Lubbe [...]s base are dignifi'de:

To th' sacred Chaire comes nought but climbing pride.

Priests cloddy, cloudy ignorance, poore skill,

With most Cymmerian darknesse Temples fill.

With Babish toyes of Christ they Pulpits staine:

With impious Errours they chaste Faith prophaine.

Most drossy Darnell, poysonous Pills they giue,

And Salues apply, which Health from Sicknes driue.

If Strumpet Rome had not a brazen Brow▪

She could not but my Words for truth auow.

If shee deny (as that shee hath and will)

It shall her brand with prostituted Ill.

But now lets see what rotten Rags remaine,

What vpstart Tricks, Romish Faith to sustaine.

[Page]Do'st know great Purgatories wondrous fire?

This flame, cleares soules, Bags emptieth for hire.

This purgeth Purses pregnant with pure gold:

Romes strong gold-glister torrid zoane behold.

This purgeth metals (though most pure before)

And leaues to fooles, of wit and wealth small store.

A Bug-Beare is this great Catharticke flame,

Popes painted hell, Worlds Scarre-Crow fools to tame.

How this fond Popes fond fire, fond fooles doth fright?

How foolish lightnings from's false heau'ns shine bright?

Nothing but Sinons voice Fraud, Chimicke trickes,

Is in this strange Purse-purifying Styx.

He which can quickly kindle this quicke flame,

Can if he list (rare Craftesmen) quench the same,

Thou hast (O Sacred Sir) firme facultie,

To damne, redeeme all soules that there doe frie:

If thou canst saue, but wilt not th' art too iust;

But if thou wouldst, and canst not, who'le thee trust?

Choose wheth'r of these, since either of these o'rethrow thee:

A Lying-Priest, or Tyrant-fierce, they shew thee.

Romes Pontificke, Pompificke Prelate, rather,

Such fond Daedalean fantasies doth father.

And Berengarius quaintly quips them well,

For pot and pottage they the World excell.

But I (if lawfull 'tis) may terme them, true,

Mercuries, Ioiners, Coiners, of faith new.

Great reason ist that Purgatories fire

Should burne most bright, and warme the Popes desire.

For if this Money-fertile fire goe out,

Popes chimneys would (alas) lie cold, I doubt.

O Supreme Priest, Apostle generall:

Great master of the Chaire dogmaticall:

[Page]O let illiterate Me, be farther taught,

The Babylonish Rites thy braines haue brought.

Thy great Decr [...]e from heau'n all those keeps out,

Which from Thy sheep-cote straggle, stray about.

Thy slightest censure makes damn'd Atheists flie:

Thee to displease brings death vndoubtedly.

No scourge of Heretickes ere rag'd like Thee:

Yet thou, worst Hereticke, they guiltie be.

Since Personall Succession helpes thee not:

Thy Faiths Succession, who regards a iot?

Yet, this I grant, as Darkenesse followes Light:

Thou and thy sheepe-hooke, follow Peter right.

Thou Caiaphas, [...] Cephas, dost succeed:

Simon (not Peter) Magus did thee breed.

Annas and Caiphas held succession faire.

But Christ and' [...] followers did not for it care.

Issue of Men Faiths issue can't imply:

Nor empty scabbards win a victorie.

By hearing, not succeeding, Faith's begot:

A Holy life mak [...]s good-men, Orders, not.

Ancletus, Cletus, Clemens, Linus, Pope,

Which, who succeeds, to shew is past all hope.

And to this day the tyranne Turke doth hold

Foure Patriarke Seates, by foure Popes lost or sold.

Ierusalem, Antioch, Alexandria, Constantinople.

Thus he Vice-Christ doth Christ suc [...]eed, 'tis right:

For, Vice-Christs Presence breeds Christs Absence quite.

That rauening Wolues should follow Pastors pure:

Saint Paul foretold, and Gods Amen, proues sure.

O disguisde Sire, Christs Vicar vizard fac't:

Which here on earth, hells forces, courses, haste:

Shew me more Wardroabes of thy Alcaron;

And nouell Tricks thy Treuet stands vpon.

[Page]'Tis thy diuine decree, that Man, sins slaue,

Can worke Gods Will, yea more then God doth craue:

The Iust, thou sayst, doe it, but perfect men

Doe more than Gods Law doth demand of them.

But ist in me the Law of God to doe?

Why then by Bond; did God me binde thereto?

The Law me kills, the Law me tramples-on:

Can then Lifes acts by Dead be vndergon?

By power of mans Free-will and inbred-good:

Thou dost despise, disgrace Christs blessed Blood.

And lasting life t'election to make sure,

Thou'lt vse thy Mud, and not Christs Mould most pure.

Christs blood shut-vp; vaine Veniall-Sinnes thou'lt finde;

Which to Deaths Doome, the soule of no man binde.

But eu'n these sins which frō Christs bloud thou'dst free,

Will cause thy soule Christs Kingdome ne're to see.

Whilst by the Law thou lookest for Saluation;

Thou dost the Law by meere imagination.

For how thou [...]anst Gods firme Law vndergoe,

Thine owne fast-law-bound Conscience best can show.

Christs Bloud (thou sayst) for Sinne, not Paine, did pay:

Yet (thy Indulgence can take Both away.)

Sometime thou'lt Penanco haue, yet Sinne protected:

Can Sinne be salu'd, yet Penance be expected?

O the Indulgent loue os Romes kinde Father!

To binde, loose, shew to Guilt, and Guiltie fauour.

At once, he blowes, and sups, makes hot, and cold:

Bindes, and vnbindes, vnbound things fast doth hold.

What e're he pardons, he can punish to;

Make Guiltie, Guiltlesse, this and more he'le doe.

His Ramish-Romish Faith much Mirth may make:

But whose weake Faith, true growth from it can take?

[Page]He which is dawbd with extreme V [...]ction, hath

Full strength to struggle with spirituall scath.

This blessed Balme Christs blessed seruants makes:

He's none of Christs, that Babels Balme forsakes.

But Caluinists (though Papists rage and raue)

To greaze their Boots, this oyle doe often saue.

Calixtus, wisely, did foure Fasts ordaine:

For, bodies, yeares; foure quarters do [...] containe.

Like the foure Humours and foure Elements:

And as foure farthings for foure Egges, contents.

As, Peter was a Fisher, fish to vse,

Peters religious Popes doe chiefly choose.

Repentance was no Sacrament of old:

Penance is now a new-one vncontrould.

Baptisme's a pledge of Faith to Christ conioyn'd:

And by this Badge Romes Vice-Christ, his will finde.

Heau'ns life Eternall, by externall lauing

We get: and thence comes all mens hope of sauing.

This Salt, this Oyle, these magicke Arts, ranke Spittle,

Abuse thy people (O Christ) not a little.

O damn'd deeds of Romes botching-Bishop base,

Gods Law and pure Hand-writing to disgrace.

Heretickes this Arch-Hereticke makes those,

Which will not seuen sound Sacraments suppose.

For, the seuen Card'nall Vices, Vertues, show:

From the new cou'nant, iust seuen Signes to grow.

Ith' Eucharist, their Wine is poysnous, sure:

For laymen may not that dire draught endure.

These thirstie Guests sup, sip no moisture; they

(Against their wils) That cup, to passe them, pray.

If Sacrilegiously they'l halfe with-hold:

With neither part to part, they may be bold.

[Page]Masse-Priests tooke Bread and Wine; Laicks, but Bread:

If Bread serue these, with both, why are Priests fed?

The answer's easie, Who eats Bread, has Wine:

For needs must Flesh, within it Bloud conioyne.

Well, if meere-Bread both Bread and Wine doth coope:

Why (besides Bread) take Priests so sound a S [...]ope?

And if one-Element sufficient be:

Change turnes: Giue Laicks Wine, take Bread to thee.

Since Christ (Cup, Bearer-like) gaue vs his Blood:

How is it by audacious Popes withstood?

Confession is (thou sayst) Sinnes Remedie:

But thy flocke findes it Curing-Crueltie.

Their soule being fed with Vineger and Gall:

When pard'ned, to sinnes Penance 'tis in thrall.

Soule-Tyrannizing Pope, dire dregs, hard heart:

O how vnkindely-kinde (alas) thou art?

No Laude, much Fraud in thy Confessions be.

Which thy Newes-quaff [...]ing-Eares (slie Clarke) drink free.

Surely the fond Confessors selfe, oft times,

Both heares and cleares (thee telling) thy foule crimes.

And canst thou then other folkes faults forgiue?

Thou canst thine owne, then, howsoere they liue.

Thou canst indeed absolue Absoluers: Why?

Heau'ns kingdomes Key betweene thy lips doth lie:

For something, all things, thou'lt forgiue to All:

Which for Romes ioyfull Iubiles doe call.

Thou'lt loose Omissiue and Commissiue sinne;

And could Christs Passion greater glory win?

Canoniz'd Saints are surely sau'd, thou't say.

Thy selfe vnsure, would'st certainly display.

Dost thou know others, yet thy selfe much doubt?

Are thy eyes bright abroad? At home put out?

[Page]Wouldst be beleeu'd, but not Thy-selfe beleeue?

Though wise to others, thou'lt thy selfe deceiue.

See here, the triple Crownes decree deuine:

See Popes Petrean-faith, Saint Peters Shrine.

Art thou not right Bezalels typed Temple?

Babel, Gods Arke may heare, with like example.

Of this Browne-Bran (for here's not least fine Flower)

Dogmaticke dunghils, Popes to make haue power.

What need I name, each worship-new, vaine Rite?

Whereby true worship is euen buried quite.

Romes Mother-Church is big with foolerie:

With faithlesse Faith and impious Pietie;

For the most part, Papisme is Paganisme:

Fertile, yea ranke, in rotten new-found Schisme.

O impious Idolizing Papists graue!

Is God your God? who many Gods may haue?

Whiles you lie snorting, th' Enuious Man keeps watch:

And Satan (so) you oft with scoffes doth catch.

Vaine, silly Superstition songs doth mutter:

And dayly Prayers by numbred Beads, doth vtter.

But I shall shew in more conuenient place:

The noyse and toyes of Romish Quires most base.

Meane while, What does our Clergie-Master, see,

How playes he Peters part? How flockes Feeds he:

Surely, this Care, who will, may take in hand:

Himselfe ith' Church, treble-Head-Stone doth stand.

And in this Sense, I say, and euer shall:

The Pope's a Rocke, liuely Grammaticall.

And I will wager now, with any one,

That, than the Pope, Nothing's more like a Stone.

He's hush in Words, but Swords he'le brandish braue;

In Loue, Stone-heart: in Hate, Wraths part he'le haue:

[Page]He sends forth Threats, suspends milke-Teats; and thus,

Fauours Gods flock: thus is Religious.

Paul (sure) that Patterne of a Pastor good,

Nor Peter (thus) their dueties vnderstood.

Doubtlesse, whilst he Kingdomes loose shackles shakes:

His Kings, most blinde, to Warres and Iarres, he makes.

While these his restlesse Cares, all rest deny,

Non v [...]cat ex [...]gu [...].

Iustly this loue sleight sacred Cares may fly.

If thou reuise each annuall act and deed:

None of them shew one Pope his flocks to feed.

And this Vice-Christ, herein Christ imitates:

With a few Loaues, thousands he satiates.

Good Shepheards, more than Life, their Flocks doe prize:

The Pope his Flockes, vnder all, vilifies.

Ah ignorant, base, dull, blinde, vulgar Rout!

To whom the Lampe of Light and Truth's put out.

O how your day is darknesse, Guides, misguide:

Hearts, rough; Minde, tough; Hope, vaine; Faith foolified.

Thousand Goth-like, Vandall-like villanies:

Mongst thousands of Popes people Tyrannize.

At Rome, huge bands of Vagrants vaine there be:

Which breake Christs Sabbaths in loose company.

Shepheards may keepe the Erymanthean Beare:

As well as Popes Christs Flocks, deuoyd of care.

He which ith' Church will haue nor, Blinde, nor Lame:

In holy'st duties, he's in Both the same.

Implicite faith to hold, they hold most holy:

And Ignorance, chiefe Pietie, not Folly.

This is no holy Fatling, but leane, lanke:

This is not Peoples power, but Poyson ranke.

Thus in Soule-captiu'd flocks is Popes delight:

Like the Cyclopean Troops bereft of sight.

[Page]Whilst he by Images would people teach:

Himselfe's an Image, he'le not to them preach:

While his externall Temple's glorious gay:

He suffers Gods true Temple to decay.

And while he may wallow in worldly pelfe:

Proximus ipse sibi.

Farewell poore Christ, He's neerest to himselfe.

Yea fare thou well, that thy Priest well may be:

For if thou first doe well, then (sure) will he.

Bread to be made of Stones (with Stygian skill)

And men t'eate Stones in Statues, is his will.

Cease Questionist t'enquire of faith sincere:

Rome holds it fittest, faith confounded were.

This high Priest of Romes sacred Rites, indeed,

His feeble flockes with frothy milke doth feed.

Impostour, Pastor, Doctor, Deceiuer great:

Is there in thy Sheep-fold such holy meat?

Whiles thou dost thus soules feed, or rather starue:

Giue Satan Them, the Rest to thee reserue.

Since in Gods Church th'art rough Marpesias rocke:

Why then should stupid I, trust such a stocke?

Should men thee trust, as thou thy selfe dost trust:

Trust me, who trusts thee, is a mad man iust.

People trust Priests, Priests Bishops trust, I hope;

Prelates trust Councels, Councels trust the Pope.

Let all opinions t' ones opinion trust:

Then, but one flocke, one faith needs be there must.

Is This faiths golden Syntaxe firmely true?

Commend it first t'a Turke or faithlesse Iew.

Now (great Priests-Prelate) by thy mitred pleasure:

Declare mo

Things following from things already demonstrated.

Confectaries of thy Treasure.

If thou, faiths Cacodocuments wilt shew me:

A triple-fitted Crest Ile wish vnto thee.

[Page]Rome being drunke with sacred Saints deare blooe:

Worshippeth Saints, with Rites, ne're vnderstood.

Truely thou sayst, and we the Truth must trust:

Thou then, when I speake true, beleeue me must.

The Popes (by rules of Romes Religion old)

Farre lesse, loue Saints, than Strumpets, base and bold.

Vnder Christs name, many foule contraries

To Christ, this cunning craftsman doth deuise.

On Satans Boxes, he subscribes Christs name:

With paliated Fraud; Gods Flocke to shame.

The people eate poyson, with paint surrounded.

And venome drinke, with Antidotes compounded.

Vice-Christ adores Christs name, not Deitie:

Keeps lesse of Christs, than Peters, memorie.

To Peter, Temples, Feasts, Fasts, makes, erects;

Peter to be Faiths Rocke, he most affects.

Peter, aliue, would not be worshipt: Now,

To's Image (as to God) being dead, they bow,

The Saints aliue, were clad in meane aray:

Their pictures, Puppet-like, are wondrous gay.

A Maide, is made, Mans Sauiouresse diuine:

And She by right her Sonne can ought enioyne.

Nor is Romes sect (the Mother's so ador'd)

With Christs, as Maries worshippers, so stor'd.

Heau'ns kingdome, Christ did with his Mother share:

Kept halfe himselfe, and halfe to her did spare.

Gods Daughter by pure fruite of most pure birth,

Excels the louely Lillies of the Earth.

Fairer then Phiebus, than full Phoebe whiter:

Cleerer than Starres, than braue Aurora brighter.

Seas Starre, Suns Patronesse, Heau'ns golden-gate:

Transparent Spring, Rose most intemerate;

[Page]Poore wretches Ioy, Anchor, Hauen, blest Blast, Hope;

And What Not? Is Shee to th' plumbeous Pope.

She, which to th' World brought forth the promis'd Seed;

Tooke from the World, almost what Eue did breed.

The Pope, falne backe, to Heretikes old Toyes:

Heresies fragments to re-boile, much ioyes.

In golden Cups Hee deadly poyson quaffes:

And in braue Bowles, to slay poore Soules, He laughes,

Is Christ Med'atour? Why then seek'st thou More?

Yes, Popelings thousands haue, thousands adore.

O fond, besotted Papists, deafe, dull, blinde:

Can one such madnes, 'mongst the Heathen find?

This Hellish Hangman Mart'ricide most fierce:

Worshippeth many a Martyrs painted Herse.

This Faiths Confounder, killing thy Lambes good:

To Thee (O Christ) doth sacrifice thy Blood.

A painted Lamb's ador'd, deuour'd aliue:

Thus, thus, doth Romes Religion rarely thriue.

Him I will not Religious, Holy, stile,

But Common Whore, or Couchant Wolfe most vile.

Gods Church, with floods of blood, orewhelmed all:

We may the Pope, Saints bloody Butcher call.

This Field of blood, Acheldamae thus showne:

Makes thee (proud Priest) a Dog-Wolfe, Bitch-Wolfe knowne▪

How many Tesles doe detest with Scath;

Romes sacrilegious ebbing, flowing Faith?

Which Hee'le, now firme, anon infringe, and bee

A Synon sly, not Simon-Peter free.

For to a Counsell, One, once call'd, secur'd;

The Guest was slaine, the Hoste, his Faith abiur'd,

And whereas Priests Gods Flocks bright Star should be,

The raging Dog-starre this Vice-Christ, we see.

[Page]Christs feeble Flocke, the Popes Salue hurts, not heales:

Hee with tart Tortures, not milde Med'cines deales.

I surely thinke, that Turkes of All Popes times,

Ne're wrought 'gainst Christ, so many bloody Crimes.

O what a Man of Blood art Thou to th' Bride?

By whom Hir offspring Dye, in Fire are fryde.

Popes furious frownes, make many vndergoe

Deaths Dart, Warres Smart, Waues finall, fatall Woe.

The Pope and Pluto (witnes euery Lowne)

Thus differ, hee hath Hornes, Popes triple Crowne;

All els concurre. So well perform'd thou seest;

All Satans Workes, by this Plutonick Priest.

A time will come, when Hee, Christs sacred Traine,

And liuing Members dearely would re-gaine.

And yet Saints slaughter will not Him suffice;

But ore Dead Corps dig'd vp, Hee'l tyrannize.

Nor rests his Fury with Dead bodies fed:

But this fierce Fiend their Ghosts hath tortured.

Rachel, Thy Church (sweete Sauiour, craues thy aide:

Lamenting sore, that Shee's so childlesse made.

Hir Saints wide Wounds from Rome receiu'd, she showes;

And how with Flames she shines, with Blo [...]d ore-flowes.

Shee now doth Roses with much ruth bring out:

Who, in sweete peace, once, made white Lillies sprout.

In midst of Flames, than Flames themselues more bright;

Thy Martyrs were, all clad with fiery Light.

Nor did her soile want raine, to spring and bud;

Too fertile 'twas, ore flowne with showres of Blood.

Popes Founders and Repayrers Diuels were;

With props of Blood, His Throne to build and reare.

O Christ, whilest Thy Saints, after Death feard Death:

They feared not in Life to lose their breath.

[Page]In England, heere, a Queene being Papists pride:

By fire how many holy Martyrs dyd'e?

Nor did Queene Marie, of meere Vulgars builde

Those Godlesse Flames; but burn'd fiue Bishops milde.

Nay more; a Child, from Mothers Wombe which brast;

VVas into th' Fire by Romish Fiends re-cast.

Lo; thus, with slaughtered Saints, Romes shambles shines;

No better brau'rie Romes renowne refines.

Seruant of Seruant [...], Fellow seruants slayes:

And so himselfe a Seruant base betrayes.

This Latian Dragon with Gods Saints makes warre:

In Blood, his foule Face laues, than Warres worse farre.

In one of these fierce Monsters shortest raigne;

Records report, an hundred thousand slaine.

Nocent the third, (I take in from the Nocent)

So many thousands in one Slaughter spent.

O thou (in truth) Saints ruth, All red (oft read)

VVith Blood of many Martyrs Martyred.

Slaine corps doe con-corrupt my life (alas)

That Hee Saints Homicide so long doth passe.

And when (O Christ) thy Seruants slaine I see,

Ore-flowing Flouds mine eyes I wish to bee.

In that Parisian Shambles, knowne too well;

How many guiltlesse Lambes in one weeke fell?

VVhilst Paris, then more blood did drinke, than Wine:

That Towne, that time, a Tempest was Sanguine.

Forewarn'd, learne wisedome, doe not Christ despise:

VVhom, soone, Romes Shambles brings to Butcheries.

Alas, Hee's not Sheeps Peeder, but Confounder:

Black-cankered Conscience, Ouicide, Sheepe-wounder.

Hee which growes great by sacred Saints perdition:

Hastens to Hell with guilty Expedition.

[Page]Thine, plagues (O Christ) by Sufferance, subiugate:

For, what they cannot shun, they tolerate.

To these, Lifes want is Life; their Death, no Death:

Conquest, their Crosse; to liue, to lose their breath.

Goodnes, their Gold; the World, their Pot, Griefe, Flame:

Their Flesh, the Reed; their Hammer, God; to frame.

Blood founded first Christs Church; by blood, it grew:

Blood showres, It cheeres; by Blood tis of red hiew.

With Blood, Vice-Christ, Christs Foldes doth filthifie:

See, Men of God; See, Popish Piety.

Of Romes false doctrines, many Scraps remaine:

Which my close Hedge is too close to containe.

Index Expurgatorius, Bookes great Bane:

A Worke, well knowne, dishonest, crafty, vaine:

Robs, or rubs out much antique learned Treasure;

Pils or pals out much, at the Popes dis-Pleasure.

His Censure suffocates Mens Births, (their Bookes)

Takes out plaine Truths, puts in vile spurious Crookes.

O horrid, hatefull, Slaught'r-House, foule, nefarious:

To Godly Bookes, a plague, a torture various.

The Fathers Strayes, not Sonnes (then) Papists Name;

Though Fathers theirs, All theirs, still theirs they claime.

Their Postils, Packets are of Trumperies;

Hee which in them can find no Wit, is wise.

'Tis plaine, All Papists are Traditionists:

Who terme and trouble vs for Scripturists.

Which be, or what, or how many Traditions;

Or where they are, scapes (yet) Romes Inquisitions:

Yet These must be obseru'd religiously,

And be embrac'd with Scriptures dignity.

What-e're hath part of neither Word nor Writ:

With Word, and Writ, in equall State must sit.

[Page]Thus Clementines, and Asinines poore packs;

(Wherewith the Pope his Library well thwacks)

And God knowes what trim toyes, and Decretals,

Must be Gods sacred Scriptures Corriuals.

Thus that blest Booke must haue no blessed vse:

More Wealth, more worke from others, Popes produce.

Reliques, more than Religion, they respect:

And more than Churches, Chimnies they affect.

His Agnus Dei's made of Waxe mo [...] pure,

Hee makes the Worlds great Wens and Sores to cure.

And hee which will not blest Saluation misse:

Must straitway striue the Popes blest Foote to kisse.

Water with Wine (after Romes custome) mixt;

Assures poore Soules to be with Christ fast fixt.

The Thorney Crowne (O Christ) which wrought thy woe:

A Golden Crowne, on a bald-pate, doth show.

A Cocke, on Pinnacles of Temples plac't,

Warnes All with Peter to Repentance haste.

Waxe-Tapers, burnt, to grace the Noone-daies light:

The Gentiles promis'd-Light, declare, most right.

But (sure) those Lights, doe plainely intimate;

The Popes Soules-darknesse, and his friends retraite.

It also shewes, that Papists hate Day-light,

And, most like Owles, see best in darkest Night.

Much Faith boiles in his braine; his Heart holds none:

And whilst he brags of Good, his Work's not showne.

A Pater Noster said, puts sinnes away:

If thou it say, resay thrice, oft a day.

These taste to me, as Gall to Christ did taste:

What-ere I read, taste, trust, proue; All proues waste.

What vertue by Christ crucified growes,

The Mimick-Masse, Popes Cleopatra showes:

[Page]Faire Phillis, Philomel, Calliope:

Venus, Melissa, and Melpomene:

This Romes Religion her Palladium hath,

This the Idea of the Romish Faith.

Heere Babels Bawde ruffles in silke and gold:

In shining Syndon sheltring thefts most bold.

And with cleane clothes hir damned Dens doth hide,

That Shee of none a rauening Wolfe be spide.

Her Face to grace, the Popes Spouse spares no charge:

For Satans Maske, Shee needs not pay so large.

Vnto All sicke, All sound, at all times (sure)

The Masse a Medcine comes, them all to cure.

If thou thy Swine sicke of the Measels see,

A soueraigne Salue the Masse will make to thee.

A Veniall or a Mortall Sinne to cleere,

The Masse, Gods Might, a present Helpe drawes neere.

Who heares a Masse, shall not by day waxe old:

If the Masse-monger be well paide with Gold.

For, the Heau'ns Poles (the Masse neere tyr'd) stand still:

And lazie Lachesis, leaues Wheele and Quill.

For quicke and dead, there, prayr's and off'rings bee:

The Masse, (Messias) is an Ape of Thee.

Nay more, the Priest (strange wonder) dawb'd with Oyle:

By's Hoste, can Christ to's Father reconcile.

Ith' Eucharist (O Christ) God giues vs Thee:

Canst thou againe by Priests to God giu'n be?

Thou art (O Christ) our Priest and Sacrifice:

What power, so like, in vnlike Masse-Priests lyes?

O Pandects of impure Impiety!

Which th' impious Masse doth seldome let passe by

If once a man to Masse admitted bee:

Goodnesse and Faith omitted he shall see.

[Page] A Puppet-playing Priest, makes (O foule crime!)

Christs Passe-ouer, Sport, to passe-ouer time.

They, sure, which did Masse-matters institute;

Than Christ, Paul, Peter, were farre more acute.

The Priest saies Masse, the idiot people mutter:

While old-wiues, petty, pretty pray'rs doe vtter.

A strange Tongue talkes, but sense none thence can picke:

Thus Fickle Fooles, Brittle-glasse▪ Bottles licke.

Let him on th' idle Stage see playes and Sights;

Which would goe see, heare, loue, and know Masse Rites.

Hee which conceiues not, heares not: Euen so Hee,

Heares, sees in vaine, which voide of sense, doth see.

Not Sentences, but Sense enlights the minde:

Consent is gone, if Sense we doe not finde.

O how the Munc-key in his Surplis white;

The merry-Masse, and Massing-Priest, playes right.

With hearty laughes, my heart in me would chatter;

When I but read the Masses merry-matter.

Musick so much, sweet Songs, shrill singing out;

Romes sacred Syrens doe so chaunt about.

These cunning tricks, Kings facinate; and All

Quaffe her adulterous Nectar sp'rituall.

Christs Ransome, thus, and our Redemptions pay,

Shee sells, and sits, for gaine in Harlots way.

If then by Christs blood thou thy soule wouldst saue;

The Pope, (Soules Hope) Masse, as Messias, craue.

If thou the Worlds Sin-purger faine wouldst buy;

I'th' Masse for Money hees sold easily.

For a small price, the Masse makes Thine (cock-sure)

Christs Merits, which Hee dearely did procure.

Caiaphas doted, when hee paid so deere,

T'haue Christ betray'd, Hee's bought far cheaper heere.

[Page]O formidable God, Heau'ns high Commander:

Seest thou, yet suffrest this nefarious slander:

The sacred Cou'nant, Iustice, Rites, blest Hope:

So oft abusde, misusde, by Romes proud Pope.

O can thy boundlesse Longanimitie,

To iudge this monstrous Masse, yet still passe-by?

O can thy endlesse Mercy tolerate,

The Masse, Messias Rights, to arrogate?

Though God be slow, he's sure, to punish Pride:

And who his sharpe seuere wrath can abide?

To strike more sure; his Sword he lifts vp long:

His Leaden-Heeles, bring Hands of steele most strong.

O Deuils deuice, accursed feasting place:

Damned masse of the Masse, sinnes bundle base!

O Pope prophane: which with such monsters vilde:

So idle Idols, hast Gods House defilde.

Art thou Gods Parson proud, Faiths Lampe most light?

Curate of all Gods Cures, his Arch-Leuit [...]e?

Thee, Faiths desiler, Christs, his Churches Foe,

My obligated Verse, to th' world shall show.

Whilst life doth last, the Whet-stone of my Rhimes:

My Verses Venome, shall be Romes foule Crimes.

And while my Pen may play the Satyres part,

Rome shall be stript and whipt, and soundly smart,

OF THAT BLASPHEMOVS FALSE-FICTION OF MERIT, AND OF WORKS OF SVPEREROGATION, to the Derogation of Christs honour.
THE FIFTH SATYRE.

[Page]

The ARGVMENT.

On Romes Bawds brow is branded Blasphemie;

Whose Marke, marke here, in this grosse Heresie.

WHo (Pseudo. Prophet, of false Prophets) can

Thy thundring Blasphemies discusse or scan?

Christ merited (Thou'lt say) that thou mightst merit:

And Merits dipt in his Bloud dost inherit.

With Merits mingling Christ, dost Monsters make:

Which from Workes-wages, and Faith, fashion take.

Strange iugling Trickes of Merits, thou dost plot:

And mak'st Christs-selfe to merit God knowes what▪

By Merits, thou (for so the Bargaine's made,

Twixt God and Thee) hast for Gods Kingdome paid.

Saluations Sterne, and Foredecke, Merits are:

Thy Faith's in Christ, for Faiths Deseruing-share.

[Page]Sole Faith is no Faith; is a Carkasse dead,

Nothing almost, rude lumpe, a fant'sie fled.

With Merits, Grace-Mediatrixe saues (thou sayst)

But vaine is Hope on God alone that's plac't.

Faith fixt on God, confusde, retires, retorts;

But fixt on Thee, Thy goodnesse, It supports.

Faith Physicke is; trust in Physicion's fraile:

And, without thine owne worke, Both these will faile.

Thy pray'r, is, Lord, for Merits, Mercie show:

And thy desires desired as debts that grow.

Boldly thou'dst breake-ope heau'n Gates by Merit:

And make thy selfe and thine, Gods Throne inherit.

As Ixion did his Cloud, thou'lt this imbrace:

As thy chiefe Light, Delight, and heauenly Grace.

Merits superfluous scums and scraps thou'lt sell:

(Apothecarie kinde) to All not well.

Who ere wants Merits, thou canst fill him full:

And out of Trunks and Treasuries, them pull.

The Iust doe supererogate, thou'lt say:

And for himselfe and his, On, merit may.

Such Iust are superarrogating Elues:

And merit not for Others nor themselues.

Stealing Saints Merits, thereby to get gold:

Th'art Merits-Thiefe, Merits vnfruitfull mold.

I wonder where this Chest of Merits stood:

Ith' dayes of our Isachian Patriarchs good.

Did Rome keepe this trim Treasure of such worth▪

That afterwards Romes Lord might bring it forth?

For, if Romes Ioue a golden gobbet haue:

He'le straight raine-downe a showre of Merits braue.

Gods gifts are free, the Elect get grace vnbought:

The Popes gifts are at most deare prices sought.

[Page]Ith' Scriptures, none, can Tubs of Merits finde:

But, there (we reade) Grace gratis giues (most kinde)

Vpon Christs bloud, God, our soules health did place:

Canst thou then sell this Ransome (Pedler base)

Tis a deepe Whirlepoole of most impious bane:

Which muds the stinking Laerna of thy braine.

Christ ne're (thou sayst) t'vs Righteousnesse imputes:

Yet Rome, Saints-Righteousnesse, t'vs attributes.

Did free Saint Francis gran [...] what Christ did not?

Thy pate and partie Physicke might haue got.

For (sure) all Saints (that none might Merits lacke)

Their Merits hid, ith' corners of thy Sacke.

At Rome also Merits Exchange doth stand:

Whose golden Keyes, are at thy chiefe command.

Porter whereof thou art, but in good time:

Thou mayst be Butler, and so higher climbe.

And as Seas waues all on a heape doe flow;

Nereus being ne're the lesse, when backe they goe:

So thou alone dost all Saints Merits take:

And, sell thou ne're so many, they ne're slake.

Tis in thy power to poure-out Merits treasure:

For, all Store's trusted to the Stewards pleasure.

Romes gracious streames from her full veines doe thrill▪

That gratefull ones may gratis drinke their fill.

Alas Christs troubled, Truth disgraced grace:

What Goods, what gifts, giues Man, God to abase?

Hebrews and Greeks, no word for Merit haue:

Both Couenants God in Greeke and Hebrew gaue.

The Faithfull liue not by their Righteousnesse:

Life and soules health the Iust by Faith possesse.

Saints haue receiu'd, but Crownes did ne're bestow:

And none to lend their Righteousnesse, I know.

[Page]Who in himselfe perfection seekes; Ith' Gra [...]e,

Seekes Life; which, he may seeke, but ne're shall haue.

He makes vp Merit, that he so may see,

Christs Passion spoild, and God no God to be.

Say Peter, when as Christ beheld thee weeping:

What Merits helpt thee? who had them in keeping?

Gods grace, is no grace, if not gratis giuen:

Dost thou deserue it? Grace is from thee driuen.

By sinne, first Adam, Hell to vs did Merit:

By second Adam, we may Heau'n inherit.

But whose foule Seed can giue a faire conception?

If no mans can, can I wretch, all infection?

My faith's most firme, that me poore wretch to saue:

Himselfe God valent, and Christ volent gaue.

Each, operist-Papist, scraps of workes doth add:

And of's owne purenesse is halfe-Botcher badd.

In's life time oft times he workes aid doth trust:

But, dying, he all's Workes away will thrust.

Note this mysterie of iniqui [...]i [...].

O helpelesse Hope, on Merits to relie!

Who, trust such faithlesse faith, soone fall thereby.

Such haplesse Hope, by hoping spoiles poore wretches:

Whose care to keepe, by too much care bewitches.

Sole Faith is Sole Cause, of Soules health assur'd:

Christ sayes to th' sicke, beleeue, and thou art cur'd.

When Christ our Lord with soules betrothings hath;

His Nuptials busie Bride-Maide is sole faith.

The debtour, than the Creditour's more base:

If workes make God our debtour, where's his grace?

Can Workes worke-out my punishments remission?

To worke my Blisse, adde Merits least addition?

Can I by Merits my soules sore-eyes cure?

Are These the Sop [...], sweet Wash-Bals, blots to pure?

[Page]Must heau'ns blest Haruest, workes base huskes require?

Must one-howers worke; enioy Ioy infinite?

Must I with Merit-Oyle, enlight my feet?

Lest I with lightlesse lampe, the Bridegroome meet?

Whom, Christs Words, Wounds, laue, saue, and sanctifie:

Can worthlesse Workes, those better beautifie?

Can Merits driue-backe Deaths darts deadly rage?

Is merit my soules wholesome soueraigne Sage?

Can Trash pay Treasure, Drugs and Drosse, pay gold?

Can mites, with mounts, minutes with myriads hold?

Can my deserts, Christs death, deserts, deserue?

Such proud opinions from true wisdome swerue.

Since by Christs Bloud, 'tis plaine, I gaine saluation:

Heau'ns wrath, base merit, brings to consternation.

I liue no [...] of my selfe; if so, I die:

God is my life, the life of God wish I.

Whats'ere is try de ith' Furnace of Gods frowne:

Is quickly, quite with furious flames, burnt downe.

What if mans Workes to th' world seeme ne're so faire:

If God be Iudge, all men most guiltie are.

Who, Guiltie, does Gods will? vnlesse he doe it,

By God, first Facient; He, poore patient, to it.

All's else a Shaddow, Christ the Substance pure:

Christ is (alone) my Life, Saluation sure.

Christs Price and Ransome, my Redemption payd:

What then can man (all payd) to pay, be made?

Moyses, all liuers liues ith Bloud, did place:

So in Christs Bloud shed, is my life, my grace.

Vertue, is Vice; if Grace, by Christ be none:

And if we ought doe well, 'tis Gods alone.

Nor (sure) did God confect, but Gall infect,

Those Eyes; which on Christs Price haue ill aspect.

[Page]O let Christs precious Bloud my blest Bath be:

And not one drop of least desert in me.

O, be't my care, my selfe, a Wretch to view:

And no desert (but death) to be my due.

O me, me most vnworthy, heau'n to see:

So conscious am I of desert in me.

My eyes confirme, my inward-parts confesse:

Of Merit, my sad soules great emptinesse.

I feele defects, my life ore-laide with woe:

And I poore wretch (these gone) doe nought else know.

Gold, Iasper Stones, are foule, with Christs bloud plac't:

Must not deserts dregs, (then) be more abac't.

When I am wrencht and drencht in Christs deere blood:

O let my Merits, be hells burning Wood.

Say, I had liu'd well, yet my hope might faile me:

But hauing liu'd ill, death will (sure) assaile me.

Oh, from deaths danger who shall me wretch raise▪

Herein (sweet Sauiour) Thine be all the praise.

The hand-writing of Sinne Christ quite defac't,

Which tane from Satan, on his Crosse he plac't.

If Christ Gods onely Sonne, Lifes orient Sun;

For Me, a Seruant, dire death would not shun:

Can I, a Slaue, Christs death, as my due claime?

And challenge Life, because Christ death did tame?

Bloud should flow from my deepe torne worne heart:

And all my Marrow, should sad teares impart.

I merit nought; my selfe, by no meanes saue;

Christ, my Redeemers death, this, to me gaue:

O may I die e're Christs Grace through me die:

For, in me, of me, for me, nought haue I.

O wash me, well ith' Well of thy good will:

Lest, guiltie me, my guiltie deeds doe kill.

[Page]O may my fil [...]hs of flesh, my life lewd, base.

Deare Christ, be folded in thy kinde embrace.

Satans dire Darts assault me (Victor great)

Giue me sharpe shafts, that I may Satan beat.

I am, ith' world, soyld, spoyld, (O Iesu good)

Laue, saue my soule, ith' Brooke of thy blest blood.

I burne with selfe-loue, (O great Lord of Loue)

To burne with thy Loue, grant grace from aboue.

As Lord, the Spirit; as Tyrant, flesh I serue;

Oh tame the Tyrant flesh, my soule preserue.

Lest Earth me take, lest Hell me terrifie:

O hold me, heat me, with heau'ns Feruencie.

Let Earths fraile Ioyes to Heau' [...]s firme Ioyes giue place:

And sacred loue of good, Earths Mud quite chase.

I hate all mine, and that I be not mine:

I seeke thee, Christ; and sue to be all thi [...]e.

O let thy large, thy Seamlesse coate (most faire)

Paliate my natiue filth, and leaue none bare.

O Lambe of God, slaine from the worlds creation:

Thy proper-Worke, be my Propitiation.

With thy deare Saints (O Sauiour Christ I craue)

Me, thy most Suppliant, submisse seruant, saue.

The euill of guilt, and p [...]nishment I know:

This, this indeed's the Merit I can show.

But th' euill of guilt and paine and hells fierce flame,

Yea hells great Lord; I know heau'ns Lord did tame.

This is my constant faiths confession; hence,

Ile not be forc'd by fraud or violence.

He which (O Christ) trusts not thy sole sweet Merit.

Shewes he's not thine, and shall not thine inherit.

Since all thy gracious gifts, me farre surpasse:

Can my naught, nothing, merit ought (alas.

[Page]Whos' ere (O Christ) an hundreth Pence Thee owes:

Vnto ten thousand Talents, My debt growes.

Within Mee, Sinne: a Massie Mountaine hath:

Sins Mountaine to remoue, Lord, strength my Faith.

Least I (O God by Deaths sting wounded be:

Behold my Sauiours Wounds wide-ope, for mee.

O Thou which Bottlest vp Thy Saints Teares, All:

Let not, these of thy Seruant, fruitlesse fall.

The Bane of Sinne, my Blood of Teares descries:

And me, my sweet Redeemers thirst, euen fries,

Free me, from Death, and from lifes guilt me cleare:

And for my Spots, O let Christs Stripes appeare.

If Christ for's Seruant, vndue debts did pay:

Let not the Seruant pay, what's payd, I pray.

O Iesus, which of heart, reines, Searcher art:

To thee, I (here) sacrifice reines, and heart.

I thee beseech, euen by thy bloody Sweat:

Thy Teare [...], Feares, Flouts; whom Iewes vniustly beat?

Let all my hope, to thy sure Seale be fixt;

With none of my selfe-Meri [...] to be mixt.

This is my serious, pious protestation:

Confirm'd, from false dogmaticke alteration.

Christ hath ingul [...]t me in his Sea of Loue.

Bare, poore, impure, I'm (here) a milke-white Doue.

Here is my Hope, firme Faith, Pledge of saluation:

This, this faire foun [...], flowes to my restauration.

If th' Ocean of Christs Bloud; me, all keepe in:

'Twill purely purge my Blots and Spots of sinne.

Let this, th [...], this, blest Lambe with's holy hide:

Cloath me, and let me, thine (O Christ) abide.

Sweet Sauiour of the world, Iesus most kinde:

Let me thy Mercies, in thy Merits finde.

[Page] Gold, Incense, Myrrh, of Praise, I humbly bring;

As Lord, take Incense; Man, Myrrh; Gold, as King.

What-ere is Thine, and thou to th' World mad'st free:

All those, Thy Loue, makes proper vnto mee.

With godlesse Goates, adiudge mee not to stand:

But, with thy Sheepe, set me at Thy Right Hand.

Whom Thou held'st deare, and deare for me didst pay?

Now, count not Vile, as willing my decay.

For, without Thee (O Christ) I say, and shall:

I, either Death deserue, or Nought at all.

But, since, for vanquisht Me, thou'rt Victor-wise:

My paine is Thine; Thy Palme, is made my prize.

My due-Deaths-draft (O Christ) Thou first drank'st vp:

When, Thou for mee, didst say, Let passe this Cup.

O let my Death, by thee, be Deaths decay:

And in thy Loue, to leaue Life, no delay.

Let Grace, be my lifes louely Morning-light:

Then Glory, will beeth' Euening-Starre most bright.

By thy deare Death, and Life, let mee, Deaths due:

Obtaine sure hold on Lifes Hire, most vndue.

And let thy glorious Beames of Goodnesse shine

Vpon this sparkling Faith, faint heart of mine.

Yea, where all plenteous pleasures, from thy Torrent,

And Loue-Flo [...]ds flow, from thy still-streaming Current:

Let mee drink deepe, from that deepe Spring most cleere,

And with Thy Blood My thirsty Heart re-cheere.

Let Thy Death be my Hoste; Thy Paines, my Pay;

Thy Crosse, my Crowne, Thy Sores, my Salues alway.

Whilest Life doth last (O Christ) I'le deadly hate,

Thy Romish Riuall, I'le repudiate.

Thus, then, Mans Lies, Blasphemies arrogate,

Merit by's Workes; from Christs Deeds derogate.

[Page]Thus, to Mans Merits, Christ must now giue place:

And to Romes Ruler render Throne and Grace.

And, thus, Christs godly goodly Vicar, hath

Gods Power disdain'd, prophan'd the Name of Faith.

His Merits Meritoriously doe Merit,

That he should Hell, but neuer Heau'n inherit.

For Merits, Heau'n Hee'l sell, the Church defile:

And Christ to Belial Hee dates reconcile.

O Rome, is this thy Zeale? thy Church so faire?

Did Christ charge Peter thus for's Flocke to care?

With such Tartarean termes (Church-Scourger braue)

Dar'st Thou Gods Iustice, free-grace, whip, depraue?

If any sense in thy blunt Brest doth stay:

Antichrists noted Notes, these be, thou'lt say.

But, I am hopelesse, by my Verse, to frame

On th' Anuill of thy Heart, Sense of thy Shame.

See, then, Romes Faith, Romes holy Church, now see:

How like to Peters, Hee and his Faith bee.

OF THAT LOVDE LYE, AND FOND FICTION OF TRANSVBSTANTIATION.
THE SIXTH SATYRE.

[Page]

The ARGVMENT.

When I receiue (O Christ) Thy Body blest;

The Signes, in Substance, still the same doe rest.

ROmes Ten b [...]rn'd Beast strāge Errors belcheth vp,

And Heretikes, Schismatikes feeds, breeds vp.

More Heresies from Peters proud Chaire spring,

Than all Church, Chappell Pewes could euer bring.

Much I passe-o're, since (els) my Muse would be

Too too prolixe (kinde Reader) vnto Thee.

But yet, ther's One, sprung from the seuen-fold Whore,

Prodigious, horrid, fond, ne're found before,

Amphibious Gorgon; whereby Substance slips:

This, this, my Tisiphonike Satyre whips.

Heere, hath my Pen large Lists, aboundant stuffe:

Heere, to tryumph my Rhyme hath roome enough.

Heere, Waues waues ouerflow; Depths inuocate

Depths; Heer's a Meane to bee immoderate.

[Page]This nointed, big-Brood, Accher [...]ntine Crue;

In's Masse createth a creator new.

Surely, tis more Christ, than a World, to make:

Nor, ere, did God, to make God, vndertake.

But Popish Chymicks make a thousand Gods:

Priests (then) are greater gods than God, by odds.

Ith' Masse-Priests mouth, what so great vertues are,

That Hee, with's Mouth, his God can make, and marre?

Surely, hee hath some rare resistlesse power:

Whereby hee makes and vnmakes God, each houre.

Christs Flesh (ith' Masse) This Flesh-feeder eats vp:

And this blood-bibbing Bishop, Blood doth sup.

With Murther, stain'd is this Christ-killing Hoste:

Whilst hee Gods Flesh with's Fangs to teare doth boaste.

Indeed, besides this Popish Caniball,

Of Men, not God-deuourers, read wee shall.

Grant, This grosse Errour, and grant thousands mo [...]:

Which from this horrid Hydra, thick, would grow.

Mee thinkes, I see Serpents on Gorgons pate,

When this Gorgonish Act I meditate.

This Christ-eater, with's Cyclaps throat wide ope:

With griping Clawes, with grinding Iames (the Pope)

[...] Lycaons filthie Feasts doth celebrate:

And

A King of Arcadia, who to [...] Iupiters god-head, serued in the flesh of certaine young gentlemen of the Molossian [...] at a Feast which be made to Iupiter, who in detestatiō of that foule fact, s [...]ved [...]is Palar [...], and turned Lycaon into a Wolfe.

Laestrigons curs'd Cates doth deuourate.

For, Hee to's holy Cheere inuites (most kind)

Sharpe Teeth, good Stomack [...], but no godly Minde ▪

Proud Iayes are they, not Eagles, which, thus, dare

Forecast to come, to eate Christs dainty fare.

Not Abra'am, Patriarchs, not blest Prophets all;

Who, yet enioy'd this Man [...] Mysticall:

Another kind of Canibals in Campania▪

Could thus eate Christ, could thus haue sauing grace,

For, God Mans-Flesh was, then found in no place.

[Page]And, since by Christ, Grace, Life's alike to me:

Christ to receiue, to me like rule, let be.

With mouth and teeth, I take not (sure) Soules meate:

This, with my mind, heart, Faith, I take and eate.

My Hearing eates, my Knowledge, Christ doth chew:

And liuely Faith digests Him in me to.

I taste Christ with Hearts Pallate, there, confinde,

That Feast's a Fact, not of the Mouth, but Minde.

Christs Presence, is Faiths Charge, Christs reall being

Is sure ith' Supper, to each firme Faiths Seeing.

Yea, Christ to those that thus belieue, is slaine:

Whose bles [...] Oblation, still doth Faith sustaine.

Againe, each vnbaptized infant small,

Once borne, and washt in the Fount Mysticall:

Hee should with Christ haue no Community:

If Corps must Corps, Flesh, Flesh, touch needfully.

Herod did (once) but some young Infants smite:

The Popes opinion damnes All Infants quite.

Besides, Hee which belieues not, Christ may eate:

And thus, to Dogs, Hogs, Mice, Christ may bee Meate.

Yea, Iudas, thus, with Peter hath full share:

Christs Body is to Both, like daintie fare.

Can hee which is not Christs, vpon Christ feede?

Are God and Satan Partners well agreed▪

Or can Christs Members in Christs Body rot,

Which, bold-fac't Rome, to broach abroad, shames not?

O Mad Religion, strange Diuinity:

Clergies faire Helon, Popes fond Fantasie!

Bread makes a God, as Mice may Ca [...]ls make.

Not so: The Popes opinion wee mistake.

But Sure, (although the Trid [...]-Councell wise,

The same, to Christs Guests more than once denies)

[Page]The same meanes which in Baptisme Christ containes:

The same ith' Supper also Christ retaines.

This feeds, That breeds, by Christs Concorporation:

I'm Bred, and Fed, by the same Obligation.

Symbolik [...] Signes we all in Baptisme see:

Therefore the Signes ith' Supper vnchang'd bee.

In Christ I liue, as I of Christ am made:

What Grace conuerts, concernes mee, as is said.

Vnion giues Life, Communion It sustaines:

That was the Spirits, This still the Spirits remaines.

But, truely, truely, (for this truth's most true,

And Faith, to be Truths Daughter, ought most due)

What's made of Bread oth' Virgin is not made:

Nor was Christs Being, from a Bread-corne blade.

Nor was the Promis'd Seed of Graines weake power,

Nor Mary blest, a Mother of fiue Flower.

Nor did the Roote of les [...], beare [...]ares of Corne:

Nor was I [...]d's Li [...] of Land-Acres borne.

Nor Floods, on C [...]r [...]s Bi [...]th, the Dragon shed:

Nor could a Wheat-Eare breake the Serpe [...]t [...] Headpunc;

Besides, I feele this bruis'd, assum'd, consum'd:

Where was Christ [...] Body then may't be presum'd:

Absurdly, [...]bsurd Fooles▪ absurd things reach:

And to th' Absurd, absurd opinions preach.

Out Field is fil'd with troopes of Reasons good:

Which Popish Parad [...]xe [...] make to skud.

When Christ, Himselfe, the Bread of Life did name:

Before, and after that, Christ was tho S [...]me.

Christ is a Vine, the Ways the Life, who euer

In Him gr [...]bes, g [...]es, li [...]s, f [...]des, wanders, die [...] neuer:

Thus Christ saies of himselfe; yet I suppose,

Of Way, [...]me, Life, no Transi [...]tio [...] ro [...]e.

[Page]Why then ith' Supper should a change be made?

'Cause Christ of Bread, This is my Body, said.

What if huge Heapes of Loaues were consecrated?

Must all to Flesh be forth-with Transmutated?

What if a Groomes Horse-Bread b [...] conse [...]red?

Will it straight into Flesh be altered?

What if the holy-Hoste be eate in Lent?

Will it be turn'd to Flesh incontinent?

At that time (I thinke, rather) tis Fish made:

For, Flesh to eate, in Lens, Popes haue gaine said.

How well Romes Pythagorean Foole doth act:

Does things forbidden, forbids his owne Fact.

Tis Witty Folly, Fathers foolish Wit:

To Stab his [...]tatutes, his Births heart to split.

This Popish Metamorphosis most vi [...]d;

Hath Natures Lawes puld downe, Gods Lawes defil'd.

Faiths Nerues and ioynts it reaues and cleaues in sunder:

And brings in Doctrines [...]ew, with hideous wonder.

These working-Words, This i [...] my Body; They,

No Type, or mysticke meaning haue, doe say.

Yet heer's a Trope: for, heer's a Transmutation:

Thus they deny, euen their owne affirmation.

Truth's Force and Strength is great, most certainely:

And makes Hi [...] Foes hir praise to testifie.

Thus, oft-times Thieues, fatally faults confesse:

Traitors owne mouthes their trecheries expresse.

For Sacraments, the Papist placeth Toyes;

And, for a Trope, Tropicall Trickes employes.

Deiects what Hee erects; grants, what's gain-said:

Puls downe the House which his owne Hands haue made.

Peruerse Conuersion doth peruert Sense sound:

An impious Glosse doth Truths pure Gl [...]sse confound.

[Page]For, forced by the words true force and scope:

The Test'ment, cald a Cup, they say's a Trope:

And why ist not a Trope, when Bread is nam'd

Christs body? is here other speech, forme from'd▪

He's non-plusd, now; his fond opinion frights him:

And Heresies owne hand, herear, euen smites him.

Incredulous, quite faithlesse may I be,

Y'ere I (dull Papist) fixe my Faith to thee.

Many such false, fain'd Iliads, yet haue I:

All which to whip, one day cannot supply.

Not all of Christ, but whole Christ, each where stayes;

This, ancient Fathers faith affirmes, and sayes;

If, then, Christs flesh be not in eu'ry place;

Sure, 'tis not flesh, ith' Masse, in any case.

If, Bread it be, and must his Body be:

Then, of his Body, 'tis no Signe to me.

The Body's not the Type: the Type, It, shades:

If things themselues be Types, the Type (then) fades.

All other holy things, their Signes ne're change:

That Signes change onely here; Is it not strange?

Surely these pendent Seales assure, alone,

That Promise which Gods Word had me fore-showne.

And sacred Seales their Patents ne're oppose:

Therefore, both Signe and Substance, Christ enclose.

But by the Word our Mouthes must not Christ chew:

This Supper (then) Words Seale, makes not this true.

This Reason's Eagle-ey'd, in truth quicke-sighted:

And what It sees, is quickly erudited,

This Reason seemes with radient Sun-beames written:

With so pure Light, the sight is. thereby, smitten.

But now, here's one, and one in stead of All:

Which, thunder-throttles Romes faith mysticall.

[Page]If, vnder, shew of Bread, Christs flesh be made:

Are snares of death in this flesh closely laide?

Henrie the seuenth, Emp'rour of Germanie,

By Poyson in a Masse (foule fact) did die.

But, sure, Christs flesh, with Poyson, ne're, was mixt:

True Life, not Death, is to Christs flesh affixt.

Tis strange, Christs flesh ith' Poyson did not die:

When venome in that Murthering-Masse did lie.

I wonder, when the Frier, ith' Fier, did throw

The Host: whether Christs Flesh he did it know.

Fond foole, thy learned lectures thee confound:

And thine owne cords, haue thee in snares fast bound.

What need I striue t'oppose, Thee with my Shield?

When thine owne Sword wounds Thee, wins Me the field.

If consecrated-Bread so altera [...]e,

That Masse-Priests may God to Christs flesh create:

As many Lo [...]es, so many Bodies be,

As many Bit [...], so many God [...] we see.

And, when Christ (first) his Body made our meate:

He did, himselfe, in forme and substance eate.

For, what he to his twelue-Disciples gaue;

Himselfe (I thinke) did eate; This, all Feasts craue.

And (sure) that Vine whose Wine Christ then did drinke,

Gaue plentie of our Sauiours Bloud (I thinke)

And, euen so oft, as Bi [...]s, Christs Body, bee:

So oft, his Soule from's Body torne hath he.

For (I beleeue) his Soule they cannot bake:

Their foule-mouth'd-Masse, thereof no power can take.

If Thou'lt on points (as Vowels Vassall) stand;

And not permit true iudgement thee command:

As Bread Christs Body is (witnesse Gods Writ)

So is the Cup, his Bloud; (Truth prouing it.)

[Page]Any Cup, forg'd, by any, any Art;

To th'Testament in Christs bloud, doth conuert.

Nor was (O Christ) blest Marie, more thy Mother,

Than Goddesse-Masse would be to thee another.

Nor were thy Bones (O Christ) broke on the Crosse:

But Popelings Teeth bruise, breake them, short as Mosse.

Nor could one Body, all Christs Guests suffice,

To take least part thereof, their Soules chiefe price.

And whilst heau'n, earth, (at once) this flesh containe:

His flesh continuous, Christ cannot retaine.

And, mouldie Bread (we all know) Wormes will breed;

Which, from Christs Flesh ('tis plaine) cannot proceed.

And Wine kept long in Cups will (sure) waxe tart:

But, thy sweet Bloud (O Christ) still cheeres my heart.

And in thy hand, crucifi'd flesh, didst keepe:

(O Christ) before thou crucifi'd, didst sleepe.

Who e're doth striue these strifes to reconcile:

Doth lose, abuse, his cost, and care, the while.

Though the Popes triple Crowne thrice wreathed be:

It cannot, from these Cobwebs, sweepe thee free.

Why striue I then, Mad-Masses fantasies

To rouze to Me, or set before Thine eyes?

Behold, I quickly come, (saith Christ, and yet,

He comes not downe, to be with mens teeth bit.

Remaines, oth' Passe-ore (once) were burnt in fire:

Did they burne ought of God (then) I require?

Once, without sprinkled Bloud, Offrings were vaine,

And can a bloudlesse-Masse, Gods loue (now) gaine?

Ouer much Wine workes Wits intoxication;

And hath Thy Bloud (O Christ) like operation?

When 'mongst these Masse-Priests, Wine with Wat [...]r greets

A Whay-like flood of Bloud and Water meets?

[Page]In shewes of Bread, lies Christs true Body here?

And does the Same in many a Place appeare?

Tis All, in All, and All in euery Bit:

Yet, in this All, no Part, a par [...] doth sit.

Head, Foot, Mouth, Shoulders, Stomacke▪ hand and Brest,

Conioynd by Place, ne're disioynd from the Rest.

Pendulous Signes of Substance voyd, stand still:

Thus, doth this emptie Aire Their Hunger fill.

Bakers bake flesh, which is with Bloud well knod,

So please the powerfull Will of Romes great God.

Corne, the commands of this Masse-God, obeyes;

Bids he a Bit? the Bit turnes flesh straightwayes.

And when his Skill the Masse-Priest list to show,

A coate of crums he giues and takes God fro.

When Magicke sounds the Misser once giues out:

The flesh is fled, the Meale gone out of doubt.

This Maker of his Maker, moues his Lips;

And straight, the Bread into Christs Body skins.

A Change most strange, foure wondrous words do emake:

This comes, That goes; something, doth nothing take.

When I, by Masses ▪ Popes made Lasses, see,

Then Ile beleeue, Flower turn'd to flesh may be.

Here's no dimension of the Quantitie:

Sensible Bodies Sense cannot descrie.

No Rul [...] of sigh [...], no set Position being,

No Iudgement, Signe, of Things, no Reall seeing.

Whether we eate Christs Flesh, clothed or bare,

This, to disclose is Romes Apollos [...]are.

For, when That Suppers Rites Christ did ordaine,

Or fine Linnen.

Syndon or Priest-like clothes, he wore, 'tis plaine.

But Christ ith' Supper, naked to eate, now,

Neither Religion, Custome, Shame, [...]llow.

[Page]If we eat Christ in's cloathes, in that array,

What doe we eate? is flesh a Garment gay?

Had I an hundreth-fold Apollo's skill,

Did Verses flow, like Oceans from my Quill:

I ne're could clense th' Augaean filthy Stable,

Lernaean Fen, found in this monstrous Fable.

The Bread being coniur'd, by the Masse-Priests mumbling,

(As cursed Ghost) a head-long pace runs tumbling.

The blessed Crust, being crost, a fleshy-lumpe,

Into Breads harbour ioyfully doth iumpe.

Strange things I tell: Priests blustring breath can frame

Christs Body, as it was, in All, the same.

Imbak't in flesh, incarnate in the Bread:

Christ, in the banisht Meale, is couered.

And, Who (sayd Tully, once) so voyd of Wit,

Thinks, that, his God, which he eates at a Bit?

Substance of Bread is trans-elementated:

Yet nought's ith' Bread, which was not there first stated.

This flesh, lacks flesh; This ruddie Red's not Red;

Much diff'rence, here, twixt Flower and Flower is bred.

Can flesh lacke flesh? And must not Red, Red be?

Who then ith' Popes Braines, Braines can hope to see?

The same's, here, not the same, not knowne the same;

Eu'ry Sense, here, deceiues, erres, limps, is lame.

The same thing's not the same, at the same hower;

What e're is, yet, It selfe, straight, leaues selfes power.

This is my Body, Is not (if chang'd straite)

The Body first t' a Bit doth alterate.

The Subiect fickle, Adi [...]nct firme doth stay,

Th' Effigial's fast, Materiall, flies away.

Something makes Nought, a Body, Body makes not.

What's done, is not done; what's form'd, fashion takes not.

[Page]If any maine Madnesse, all others passe,

Tis this, Romes nimble slight, strange sight ith' Masse.

This monstrous Metamorphosies strange charmes,

Hath brotch'd abroad, vnciuill, ciuill harmes.

All the Winds blustring Battailes, here, haue met,

Numberlesse Numbers, with crosse Coiles doe fret.

Strife followes Strife; and, Errours ancient Crew,

Though payr'd, impayr'd; yet hatcht are Hydra's new.

For th' Body of Christ, scarce is Christs Church (O woe)

A Body: thus from Peace great Warre doth grow.

But here, we onely sing the furious fight

Twixt Romes

Erichthonius was the sonne of Vulcan, hauing feet like a Dragon. There was also one Erichtho, a woman of Thessalie, famous for her multitude of poysons.

Ericthons and

Andabata w [...]re certain Fencers that fought blind-fold.

Andabats hight.

Who are these Chāpions whom their drink makes good:

Bloud-suckers, and God-eaters, their dire food.

Friers doe sret, and Sophisters contend,

Schoolmen conscold, and threats on all sides send.

Discrepant Bands, their Banners pitch'd, flocke, flow:

Hoarse Academies vaunt; full Theaters, lowd-low.

Grammaticke warres doe rage, yea warres indeed,

Whence, last Opinions (oft) make, first to bleed.

Grammaticasters rise, Munkes mightie swarm [...],

Clatter together, man to man, arme in arme.

Petrus de Quercu, pugnes, oppugn'd is he,

By Iohn d [...] Monte▪ both fight valiantly.

Alphonsu [...] fumes, hot Hugo frets much more:

Poore Polus pants, and Lyra lowd doth rore.

They which want Proofes, with wrangling clamours raue▪

And seeme euen Mad, when they no Matter haue.

Iodocus proues Fab' [...] improues, Occam approues;

Scotus euen foames at mouth; Thomas, warre moues.

Andradius, Driedo, Cathrin, Carthusian,

With sharpe confronts, each one doth play the man.

[Page] Guido, Capistran, Sote, Cope, Canus stout,

With vpstart Errours, driue the Old-ones out.

This, beates the Aire, That's light makes all more darke:

This, opes no Knots; nor That, can hit the Marke.

The Victour's vanquisht; Cut-throate killd by's foe;

Assayld th' Assaylant; Wounder's brought to woe.

Biell brings bloudy Mars; Bellarmine great,

Romes Rabbi, warres, woes, blowes and threats doth threat.

Bonner, he bleats, Lindan loues Lullabies;

Lumbard belubbard, to's dull Doctours hies.

Echhius and Hosius, Dorbell, Duns, at duell,

Pighius grunts Pigge-like, Alan is most cruell.

Whos'ere may belch whats'ere, 'gainst Whomsoere,

Cadmaean troopes by their owne swords fall there.

O Pope, worlds winking-light, lifes Rule, faiths Guide,

Doe euen Thine-Owne; thy damn'd Decrees deride?

With what brasse Brow wilt Thou deny, so bold,

This Duell-Champion-flocke, of thy Sheepfold?

OF THE CORRVPT LIFE AND CONVERSATION, CVSTOMARY IN THE CITIE OF ROME.
THE SEVENTH SATYRE.

[Page]

The ARGVMENT.

Know'st thou not, in what Citie, sinne (most) growes?

He which but knowes the crimes of Rome, This knowes.

PErchance thou'dst know the holy conuersation

Of Rome, renown'd, for her seuen-fold foundation.

Old-Rome (if we may true Historians trust)

Now in new-Rome lies buried in the dust.

Papistry is a Sprig sprung-vp from Hell:

An All-vice-bearing Branch, whose Boughs excell.

Rome is a Den of Theeues, Worlds common-Stewes:

A beastly Cell from whence all Sinne issues.

He, that knowes not, Rome on seuen Hills to sit:

Is ignorant in Stories, hath no Wit.

Why art thou wroth (O Babylon) with me?

If, by my Verse, thy knowne Crimes scourged be?

O Wedlocke-hater, whose anointed Host

Of fat-cram'd Clergie; warre serues for thee most.

[Page]So much dost Thou and thine sweete Marriage hate?

Whores, before Wiues, to Loue and estimate.

Thou, and thy Flockes are (sure) Spirituall:

So much that Euill Spirit defiles you all.

While Pope, Siricius, Priests their wiues gaine-saies:

The Temples Sodome shield, to God they raise.

Your Single liues, how chastely, closly led:

Oft, Infants Golgothaes haue witnessed.

Oh how much better were their foule Vowes broke?

Than of Lewd Liues to beare so shamefull Yoke.

Masculine Vertues ne're to Rome befall:

Things carnall fit not men Spirituall.

Oh, Romes Faith all her Males Emasculates:

The World, with Pregnant Virgins exornates.

And that her most pure Church, may purer be,

Pure Friers, from their pure Nunnes pure Broods may see.

Many a nimble Night-mare Sp'rit is knowne,

To make such pure Sp'rit-hanted Virgins groane.

Wiues of their owne thei'l none, Neighbours haue these:

In such Flesh (may be) they can God well please.

Religion, thus, hath foam'd vp Luxurie:

A Lazie Life bred many a Prodigie.

But yet (I hope) Romes Church and Chaire to pleasure,

Thais (ith' Church) may iustly purchase treasure.

Besides, much Gaine, much Godlinesse makes grow:

No stinking Sauour can from Lucre flow.

Oh, must Romes Corban, Temples pure prophane?

Must God take Gifts from Strumpets filthy gaine?

To horrid Whoredomes dost thou Pardons grant?

From all good men all pardon thou must want.

Captines haue Freedome, not for Ill, but Good:

This Freedome was procur'd by Christs blest Blood.

[Page]But now, behold, huge Swarmes from Romes full stocke,

Rare Pompe Pontificall, Spirituall Flocke;

Myriades of Munckes, Armies of Eunuches kinde,

All which twigs, sprigs sprung from thy Roote, I finde:

Flockes of fat Sheepe, large Droues of Weathers faire:

Cling close to Thee, thy Warfare stout they are.

So many holy Fathers graue, thou hast,

So many Nuns, angelike Virgins chaste:

So many fat Papasinines vnmarried;

Grylls off-Spring, in religious Armies carried:

So many Sister-hoods, Fraternities,

As ther be twinckling Stars in Frost-faire Skies.

Deuouring Sons in Numbers Numberlesse;

Sardanapalus Bands, in foule excesse:

Legions of Locusts, Heards of holy Hogs;

Foedifragous full Flocks, Worlds muddy Bogs.

Their old-Religion holds of nothing more,

Than Bacchus and their Bellies to adore.

Monsters, whom Vertue cannot free from Vice:

Such as from fertile Rome, spring in a trice,

To feast at Fun'rals, and to drinke pots dry:

Is Worke enough, is enough Piety.

Much quiet, dainty Diet, Lazie Feast-dayes:

Their fatted Bellies like blowne Bladders, raise.

Feasters to be, not Fasters, they are knowne:

Whose glutted Paunch so far is ouergrowne.

What is a Munck? A Flesh-lump, A Wine-Pot:

Whose Salt is Life, lest hee corrupt and rot.

Circes (sure) turn'd, by Magicke Medicine,

Swine into Munckes, or els, Munckes into Swine.

'Twixt Country-men and Moules ther's no such ods:

As 'twixt old-Muncks, and our new-Munckey-clods.

[Page]What's Fryers frothy Troope? A Stygian Brood:

Pamphagean Swarme of Locusts, lacking food.

Wise Grasiers will not for one fa [...] Oxe, buy

A thousand two-foote, bare-foote Friers most fly.

Many seeme proud, Christs naked Name t'embrace:

Whose wicked Liues deny Christ to his Face.

Many are fir'd with Zeale, whose Piety

Is but gilt ore, Religion, Cruelty.

Many of this Christ-preaching holy Hoste,

Build Heau'n in Word, in Life build vp Hell most.

Whoredome with these is a small-Sinne, and they,

Guilty themselues, milde Mulcts vpon it lay.

Thus, Rome one Stewes, these Staines permits in any:

All Rome is (now) one Stewes, where first were many.

Bishops, sweet Swarmes, in euer'y Cell, Muncks, Friers,

Are Fathers, All; who this deny, are Lyers.

For, they that Children get, must Fathers be:

I know th'are Such; This Reason's firme for me.

Haue I not stir'd this muddy Ditch of thine?

Shall I thee shew the Popes Guarde soft and fine?

Romes Purple Peeres, and Latian Cedars tall,

Cardinall Chorus, glorious vnto all;

For Worldly Ioyes, Earths Toyes no iot contending,

Doe euen contemne, what each New-Moone can send-in.

With Visage Sage, Gownes Flame-like, red Hats fine:

Oh how their Liues doe shew, their Zeale doth shine?

But truely (truth to say) their purple Clothes,

Waxe red, being di'd [...] in Blood and bloody Oathes.

Christs Lambes they Butcher with inhumane spight:

Thus, their Roabes red, thus waxe their Bonnets bright.

Red-caps, disdaine pure Wine, drinke yee pure Blood:

The Spirit springing thence, is much more good.

[Page]Thus, by such Ghostly guides Christs Flocks are fed:

And Card'nals Functions are thus finished.

Thus, Christ they serue, thus Christians liues they liue:

Thus, vnto Christ they holy Worship giue.

These Fathers fitly may be props of Hell:

But, of Gods House, they cannot, halfe so well.

Why seeke I Samplars? since full Stories writ,

Romes Fathers filthy Liues set out most fit.

Euen Sol doth shame, their cursed Crimes to see:

My modest Muse may now (then) silent bee.

Heere, oft-times fell a Starre, from a cleere Skie,

A Cloudie Day brought vnchaste Chastitie.

Romane Records doe filthy Foggs exhale;

Her Scene obscene is as a lothsome tale.

Rome, Vicious Rome, the Worlds Metropolis,

The Metrapolitan Popes foule Chaire is.

Gomorrha, scarce excell'd it in strange Crimes:

So many Sin-Monsters raigne in their Climes.

And, sure, but by that-fire which All must fry,

Their frozen-Sins, nought els can liquifie.

Rich Rome, for triumphs, Rome, most honoured:

Is now the Empires Tayle, which (once) was Head.

A Shambles of much Murther, Sincke of Sin:

Shames Cell, Lusts Seate, a place to quaffe Wine in.

Where you may many Harpeies, Mastiues see:

Where proud Ambition, fly Sedition be.

Rome, th'art blest Salems Character as right,

As Christ is typ'd in thy Metropolite.

OF THE COVETOVS BVYING AND SELLING OF ALL THINGS VNDER THE POPES Power and Iurisdiction.
THE EIGHTH SATYRE.

[Page]

THE ARGVMENT.

That Simon Peter was at Rome, Who knowes?

That Simon Magus was there, All Truth showes.

OF Rules, reform'd to strange got-gaine I write:

Effected by the Popes Command and Might.

Who laps-vp, wraps-vp, all the world like Floods:

Like Water scoures, deuoures all Neighb'ring-Goods.

A priuate Plague Romes monstrous Maw doth fret:

The more she gets, the more she gapes to get.

Furred with Gold is euery Popelings Bull:

(As Load-stones Steele) This, yellow-gold can pull.

Let Shauelings serue the Pope, their Patrone graue:

For, at his Pleasure, they their Treasure haue.

Heere, Ezraes siluer-Sense, Moses doth ope:

To All, all wrong is right, if Gold they grope.

Great Golden Glisters purge all Crimes committed:

The Guilty, are by argent Agents quitted.

[Page]Thus to the World affy'd, not crucifide:

Worlds thirsty Loue, Romes Father hath euen fry'de.

His Workes Hee workes by sacred Policy:

But, these to God are Atheisme most high.

Christs Throne is Heau'nly, Heau'nly things doe muse:

But Papall Pride, an earthly Throne doth chuse.

Yet, vaine's this Choice, which chooseth Earthly things:

For, by such choice, toward God hee folly brings.

Satan stalkes, walkes, seeking whom to deuoure:

The same doth Romes Cosmopolite each houre.

That this Possessour poore may gape for moe,

'Twixt Riches, Rapine, his great Thirst doth grow.

Bohemoth hopes to drinke vp Iordan dry:

And none Romes gaping Gulph can satisfie.

With vnseene Shackles, Law-snares intricate,

This sharking Sepheard, Sheepe can captiuate:

Thy Church (O Christ) a Money-Mart Hee makes▪

Seekes not thy Lambes, but Lands t' himselfe he takes.

Good Manners, not great Mannours God best prizeth:

His Steward Mannours Loues, manners despiseth.

For, This Priests Polipheme and Atlas stout,

By these Tricks, trimes & props Gods House throughout.

Most craftily strange Grins and Gins hee laies.

His hollow-heart hath thousand wilie-waies.

Of which, Gold-Bringer, brauest of them all,

His Loue, his Life, his Wife, Hee (well) doth call.

His zeale is

Amphisbaena is a Serpent in Lybia, with 2. heads, one in the rig [...]t place, and the other at his taile, both ve [...]y poysonous.

Amphisbaena; serues two Lords:

The World good seruice; God, hee none affords.

The Gifts of Good-gift-Giuers make them Popes:

Who want at home, at home may sit, like Mopes.

Vice-Christ, Lawes firmes, and them repeales by Bribes.

But, hee Gods Lawe, prostitutes and proscribes.

[Page] Iohn Baptist, Herod did forbid to wed

His Brothers wife; This Popes haue suffered.

Paul became All, to All, a Soule to get:

All Vice-Christs care is on his owne gaine set.

Oh Christ, Thy Guests Thou'lt first inuite, then vrge:

Thy Vicar, will them threaten, force, and scourge.

Thy Head (O Christ) a Crowne of thornes did teare:

Vice-Christ, a Triple Crowne of Gold doth weare.

Thus, strangely better, is this Head Papall,

Than Peter, Paul, Iohn Baptist, CHRIST, and all.

This Fee-Fowler, Wealth-watching Argus fly,

Spreadeth Gold-catching Snares, most cunningly,

Sinners by Summes being tax'd; Is Coine so vicious?

Gold (sure) is Heresie: T'haue Wealth, pernicious.

Thus, guilty-Gold, in Bird-lime Lawes is caught:

And Nothing deadly, but a man t'haue Nought.

If Gold-death Antidots, yer dead, thou haue:

From deadly-Sin thy Soule He'le (surely) saue.

For, Romes Bullipotent, indulgent Pope,

All euill of paine and guilt remooues, I hope.

Touching least Trifles, hee doth Lawes ordaine:

All which are quickly voide by precious Gaine.

The truncke is little, whence a Fly sups blood:

And to the Pope least Lawes bring greatest good.

At Toyes Hee'l rage, winkes at most wicked things:

If happy Gaine fly forth with golden wings.

Sins shackles shaken off, thou'lt quickly see,

And pure Soules fly to Heau'n, if Gold them free.

Giue to the Pope, and dare each damned deed:

Actours foule Acts no punishment can breed.

All's pardonable to Gift-giuers All:

Their Sin's as Vendible, as Veniall.

[Page]Thus theirs at Rome the Purses dire decay:

But no soules health, no forcing sinne away.

Giue, Giue, Giue oft, this Romish Horse-Leach cries▪

And, by her food, fierce hunger still doth rise.

All vnction, all compunction is from gold:

And he wants Nought, that hath most yellow mold.

Romes Mother-Church, her Teats ties-vp from none:

By whose good Gifts, she fat and faire is growne.

But, here obserue (for this distinction stout

With oft ing [...]mination they giue-out.)

Peters chaire's great, aboue all Lawes his Might:

And to the Pope Gods power is due by right.

A Sym [...]nist he's not, Gratis giues he:

Giue, and he'le Giue; take thou, he'le sharer be.

He giues to thee, thou to him, what's more cleare?

Thus, Loue reciprocall must loue endeere.

Why mention I, the traps, toyles, money-Meanders,

Of Romes world-thirsting couetous commanders?

Romes vnfill'd intricate Charybdis broyles;

And, though too wealthie, swallowes wealthy spoyles▪

The Church of Rome, hath power Omni-potent;

And liuely liuer-veines Omni-p [...]tent.

Deformed R [...]les, enormed Rites, Romes Court,

Doth at her wicked will inuent, support.

Her Courts with wranglings ring, Goodnesse is whipt:

Her tatling Troopes, with Gold, their tongues haue tipt:

Gold-griping Eloquence pleades free from scath:

Such power Romes Rhetorician (Riches) hath.

Besides, at Rome (whens'ere no causes be)

Cause-pleaders, straight, cause-coyners turn'd, you'l see.

Here Lawyers may fell Lawes, most lawfully;

Because by Bribes a Lawyers Bench they buy.

[Page]In plodding Plebeans many matters, they

Despise dispatch; deuise and watch delay.

If Wealth come, Rome will welcome thy dispute:

If thou bring nought, then stay at home, be mute.

Wealth-wanting Louers, Lais loue in vaine:

And Rome loues none, that bring not gold and gaine.

Rome streines at Gnats, and swallowes Camels downe:

The Guiltie sh [...]'le forgiue, on Guiltlesse frowne.

She'le vexe poore Lambes, and let proud Lions goe:

For Wolues and Foxes faults, her Sheepe feele woe.

Thus, is Romes Papall Iustice to be sold:

And Goddesse

Ionis filia & Iustiti [...] Dea.

Themis to be hirde for gold.

The Popes foule faults are facts Apostolicke:

His flockes fraile facts are faults Apostaticke.

Wonders I write: but what, has not Romes throne,

And all ore-ruling power of Bishops done?

Great Grand-Sire, Guide of Guides, Romes demi-God:

Thus are thy flockes rulde with a Golden-Rod.

O how (besides Romes Abaddon) th' art right,

Nummipolizing Pope, Law-breaking wight?

OF THE MOST FORMIDABLE AND ABOMINABLE POWDER-PLOT BY PAPISTS, WITH THEIR horrible authorized libertie to perpetrate any Villany.
THE NINTH SATYRE.

[Page]

The ARGVMENT.

At Rome, by Rapine there's a Golden-Age,

By Crueltie, there's still an Iron Age.

WIth Gods Law to dispense, makes deadly wounds;

Yet, Rome does This, and All things else confounds.

Right, Faith, and Troth, Oathes, Promises, Vowes giuen;

(These wrong'd, thou'lt say, are keyes of hel, not heauen)

She wrongs, vnbinds, breaks, kicks at: thus past doubt,

No Obstacle her free Decree bolts-out.

Why should not she free all with others pelfe?

Who, all else (soone) dispenseth, of her selfe.

Popes will's a Gen'rall-Rule: dost doe his minde?

None then, thee Guiltie of the Fact can finde.

Any, 'gainst Any, Any thing commits,

Whilst God as Priest, the godlesse as Iudge sits.

[Page] Parricides (once) against this Realme arose;

And did a desp'rate damned Plot compose.

A machinated Treason, strange and true:

Whose like, no past, no future Times, can shew.

I quake to speake, my trembling Tongue sticks-fast:

My hands doe shake, my Muse is mute agast.

Twelue Ring-leaders did meet, deepe Hels blacke-Band;

A new strange bloudy Birth to take in hand.

At Rome 'twas shap't, Romes Whore 'its Damme became:

Monstrous Maegaera Midwife to the same.

The King, his Queene, the Prince, Peeres, Bishops graue,

Superiour and Inferiour, Nobles braue;

The Scarlet Iudges and wise Iustices;

The chiefest Knights and choysest Burgesses:

All pious Patriots, met in Parliament,

On State affaires (as custome was) All bent:

All these, by those base Traitors markt to die,

(Had not Heau'ns fore-sight made discouerie)

Smother'd in Smoake into the Aire blowne vp,

Had drunke full draughts of deaths most direfull Cup.

O woefull, fearefull, Stygean damned Act:

Likest it selfe, paralelld by no fact.

O mischiefe, murther, massacre most strange:

New Snare, base Ware, brought forth from hells Exchange

Nought vnder heauen was (once) new: but our time

Brought forth a new, nefarious, monstrous crime.

First was a Golden-Age (as Gods deare daughter:)

As the Popes Neece, a powder-Age came after.

What sacred, sugred loue at Rome there dwells?

This fathers loue all Fathers loue excells.

For, that we might not dead to heauen goe:

Aliue, by Powder, he'd vs thither blow.

[Page]"These are the Briefes of Romes Religion braue:

"To make one-day all-Brittaine bring to graue.

Romes Monsters mouth and throate is large and hollow:

And, at one draught, can many thousands swallow.

O Popish cruell crue, inhumane, quite,

Monsters in Gods, Monsters in all Mens sight.

As Peace perturbers, as Bloud-suckers, all,

That see you, flie you, finde you, from you fall.

O woefull wracke, such and so many slaine:

This, worke they would; but wrought their worke in vaine,

Is this life-giuing true Christianitie?

Is this firme faith, pure Popish Pietie?

Ill deeds to good-ends, None may enterprise:

And yet may Rome doe such that Rome may rise?

Had all our heads vpon one Necke (then) stood;

As Nero (once) desir'd (Romes man of blood:)

That Necke, with one cracke of sulphurious smoke:

Had beene smit-off, had not God stayd the stroke,

O wretched Worke, to which all woes are due:

Great wracke, more great, than may be held for true:

Who present saw All, noted, All, he saw:

To trust all seene, his owne eyes scarce could draw.

With such fierce flames of quicke sulphurious scath,

Doth Rome promoue, approue her Cath'licke Faith.

Alas, Christs truth into Kings Courts, ne're came,

With Swords, with Poysons, Pistols, Powder-flame;

Couer'd with Satans knauish-cloakes, to slay,

Till Romes Philistims grew so great, so gay.

Did Peter fish for Kings in streames of blood?

No, Belzebub can fish best in that flood.

To be catcht-vp in Bloud, as Peters fish,

And pay so deare for Rome, Ile neuer wish.

[Page]O thus, euen thus, each Romish-Traitour, hath

A Vault to hide his Treason, as his Faith.

Oft bloody blasts from Romes Tarpeian Towre,

Brake forth, and did thousands of Soules deuoure.

Fire-spitting Brats, igneous Ignatius bred:

If Iesuites be his Brood (as so 'tis sed.)

Religion hath beene euer fring'd with fraud,

And Piety beene made foule Treasons Bawd.

While Iesuites doe what them the Pope hath bidden:

Vnder their Mealy-mouthes foule Fiends lye hidden.

The Churches Weapons (once) were Prayers and Teares:

Romes Weapons (now) Swords, Fire-brands, Poysons, Speares.

Viperous-Imps are in Romes bowels bred:

And truely barbarous, boystrous is her Head.

Boasters in Blood, in Fire, in Swords, in Rapes:

Thou'dst Papists iudge; foule Deuils in Mens faire shapes.

Though many props doe Romes Religion stay;

Their Chiefest hold on Sword and Fire they lay.

But, whil'st thus oft their Flocks they fleece, o're-throw:

They Signes of Romish Faith and False-hood show.

Within, foule Crimes; without, Reuenge they beare:

Acts against Christ none vnaueng'd appeare.

Alas, why by two deaths, thought Tisiphone,

On ours to prey, and then to slay her owne.

For, Rockey Peters Chayre, Faiths Rock to bee:

Thou, by Salt-Peter, Powder, Fire, wouldst see.

But now, the World their Papall pranckes espies:

And Romish Rhea shames at hir owne Lyes.

Romes Ram-like Actors came vpon the Stage:

But God oppos'd their hatefull Actiue-Rage.

O Rome, thou buildest Nests; Birds, canst not hatch:

Acknowledge then, Gods Hands, Gods Eyes thee watch.

[Page]Thus Babels brood her Birth could not bring out:

Whereof prime pregnant Hope, made them past doubt.

Damn'd Dirae sighed and hells furies fum'd:

Yea, Plutos pallace shooke, as nigh consum'd:

Because their hellish hopes tooke none effect,

And heauen did timely their deceit derect.

Reioyce blest Brittaine in this New-saluation:

And keepe That day with endlesse recordation.

Christ freed thy Soule from hell fire, and this fire

Than euer any flame, to hels, came nigher.

That day which they Britaines blacke-Day would see,

Nouembers fifth, Britaines bright-day shall be.

The day was Tews-day, but by Popish spight,

Papists Ash-Wednesday, it had beene more right.

Daniell, deliuered from the Lions den,

Had not such cause to praise God, as We, then:

For, rage of roaring Lyons, oft, is tam'd:

But, Romes fierce Wrath is quenchlessely enflam'd.

For euer, then, fell Papists, howle, lament,

Your Popish Powder-Pieties Intent.

For, all the Oceans floods will ne're make cleane

(Perfidious Rome (thy knauish Sinke obscene.

Englands Transalpinated Papistrie.

Hath wrought such oft Blood-smeared crueltie.

Breeds our Transmarine Trauaile so light minde?

Let's then by Law be to our homes confinde.

For doubtlesse, this detestable foule fact

Was counsell'd, courag'd, by the Popes compact.

For, he which bids doe, whats almost done: he

In's will doth worke must stay't or authour be.

Had he not cast Paternall care from's heart:

He'd ne're haue playd such a Step-fathers part.

[Page]Who from his Bubble-bellowing Bulls boiles out,

All Caco-curses, hellish Broiles about.

And thus he saies: Let one-day England make,

One Graue, whose note on future day shall shake.

Vices Vice-roy, or Vice It selfe, is Hee,

Who, Peters Chaire dares foule with Villanie.

We read, that when the High-Priest vs'd to enter

Gods Holyest-Place: without Blood Hee'd not venture.

So, Romes High-Priest vnlesse some blood hee taste,

To's Shiloh Synagogue doth seldome haste.

Thus one of many facts we haue found out:

Heare Others (now) not better Ones, I doubt.

To All Sins, fuell this Dispenser findes:

And much fine-Flowre out of Crimes-corne he grinds.

Popes Pardons purge foule Homicides most white:

Makes blots and spots of bloody Daggers bright.

And if, this Priest of Romes rare Rocke, dispense,

Thou quit maist sit free from all foule offence.

Or, if the Lawes strict Act thee guilty make:

Deaths deadly Act on Thee no hold shall take.

Antichrists Bull and Christs Blood are nere kin:

For, that, as this, pardons and pures All Sin.

If Romes blest Bishop warres, wiles, periurie,

Commands as iust; iust they are, instantly.

For, the Popes pleasure is all deeds direction:

'Tis Law of Lawes to yeeld him sole subiection.

Thou, then, Who bids, not what Hee bids, take heed:

And doe his Will, with Courage and with Speed.

And doe his Will; for Christ did All Command,

To the Lord God of Romes high Hests to stand.

His Fist, Arme, Shoulders, Warlike Engines are:

Least Hee grow Mad (then) haue a speciall care.

[Page]For, first, these regall Rites Christ Peter gaue:

And to Romes Peter, Prot [...]-Pope most braue.

But, Romes rich Patriarke to be Peters Heire,

Saint Peters Chaire and Miter, There, declare.

All Crownes, Thrones, Kingdomes, through Earths ample scope;

Christ gaue to Peter, Peter to the Pope.

And Hee which Fathers moues, Himselfe approues,

Patrician; But, Hee, Father Peter moues.

Therefore, all th' honour Christ to Peter gaue,

Our Lord the Pope (I surely hope) must haue.

And, in prime Peter All rare Acts you see,

Must this Petreian-Patrons Actions bee.

The word is vaine, vertue comes not by kinde:

Saint Peters off-Spring wee excepted finde.

But, Peters pious Life, and last Confession:

In the Popes Chaire, find no Chaire, nor Impression.

Peters faint-Faith (O Christ) Thee thrice denide:

Full oft the Pope (Vice-Christ) doth Thee deride.

Yet, Peters teares shew'd Peter penitent:

But, no man euer saw the Pope repent.

Lastly, for Thee, Peter did gladly dye:

The Pope thy Members murthers cruelly.

See, who'l deny the Pope to haue (as due)

Sure Shape, Staffe, Stoole, of Peter Martyr true,

Rules not wise Palinurus in Romes Ocean,

Peters tall Ship, without least Slip in's motion?

Peters Ship (sure) on many a Rocke and Shelfe

Hee driues; and is the Ships worst Rocke Himselfe.

AN EPILOGVE OF THE ANTECEDENTS.

[Page]

THus Romes Dictator All the World directs:

Thus Hee Gods holy Bible, foules, infects.

Thus Sacrilegiously Gods Gifts Hee'l sell,

Simon (not Peter) Magus matching well.

Thus faines hee Fancies fond, Hereticall;

Of Heretikes being Head Spirituall.

Thus Monarchs hee to iarres and Warres incites:

And like a Martiall Priest, with two Swords fights.

Thus Popes permission out-laws Lawes most iust:

And Canons (when hee lists) Canons forth thrust.

Thus Cai'phas calls blacke white, wrong right, and still,

All gaine is good: and Lawfull what Hee will.

Thus Rome runs-ore with Wanes of Wickednesse:

Though Gods wise Steward dwell there, ne'rethelesse.

Thus Pro-Christ, Procrust that rate Theefe, is like,

To Christs true Tipe and Pattern most vnlike.

Thus Hee Christs Worke promoues by slaughters fly:

With sitting still a Stocke, Blocke, Dullard dry.

Thus Hee sels Smoake, and turnes his Lead to Gold:

Thus finally Hee robbeth Christs Sheep-fold.

Is not this Prophet (thinke you) from God sent?

Yes, sure as Night doth Day-light represent.

OF THE HOLY RELIQVES, TRADITIONS, AND OTHER ADMIRABLE INVENTIONS OF THE CHVRCH OF ROME.
THE TENTH SATYRE.

[Page]

The ARGVMENT.

O how the Pope loues pretty pranckes and toyes!

How Peter-Priests and Mitred-Men, Him ioyes!

NOw, full fraught Legions, and prodigious Bands

Of Romes Patrician, hasten to our Hands; find,

Whose pregnant Whore doth Rags and Reliques

The Vniuerse with trifling toyes to blinde.

Looke at, and laugh at the fond Fantasies,

This Fabling-Father meanes to Moralize.

Hee'l shew you many Nailes (if truth ha'nt faild)

Wherewith Christs Hands and Feete, to th' Crosse were naild.

And of Christs Crosse a pretty peece, not rotten:

Which pregnant Peece, hath thousands more begotten.

Why doe they not the Thornes, Nailes, many more?

And (as the Crosse) Longinus Launce adore?

Gau'st thou (O Christ) the Church, thy Spouse, sure prizes?

Her Dow'ry (sure) was no such Marchandizes.

[Page] Traditions Caucasus so huge is growne;

That Hi [...] great growth thy Church hath nigh o'rethrown.

Romes deepe-learn'd Doctours in Diuinitie,

Make th [...]se, Religions firme Profundity.

Traditions Pillars, prop Romes Papall-Power:

These fortifie her gorgeous high-top'd Tower.

Much honour, hence, hath Romes great Grand-Sire got:

And of this Mould, hath made a glistering Pot.

But by the dismall-doctrines which he preacheth:

Hee is Gods Traito [...]r, and Himselfe ore-reacheth.

Traditions gastly Gorgons hee proiects:

And by these Rockey-Rules, Mens Faith infects.

Vnwrit Decrees Hee with Gods-Word compares:

Yea, them preferre 'fore Gods Hand-writing dares.

A meere Inck-Doctour hee is held most fit:

Which knowes and showes nothing but Pen-mens writ.

With these poore shreds, this Latine Bishop frames

A Fig-leafe Coat, to hide his Whorish shames.

But I, Traditions loathsome Lees most vaine,

Spu'd from Romes Nauseus-Maw; spue-vp againe.

The Scriptures (saith Hee) are not Faiths Foundation:

Traditions are Faiths Basis, Propagation.

Scripture is not Faiths Prop, Mai [...]-Mast, Chiefe-Poste:

Truths Horologe, Rule, Canon, Guiding-Coaste.

Nor was Gods Word giuen, as Faiths guiding-Queene:

But that it might Faiths Chamber-maid be seene.

The Popes opinion is Faiths Conduit-Head:

But by Gods Word Mans Faith must not be fed.

O proud presumpt'ous, vaine, profane Decree;

And which proues plaine Asses-eares Popes Eares bee.

Yet anxiously almost All Popery rests,

In vntaught Teachers, blockish, brutish Brests.

[Page]Now comes the Scribling Age, Arts honour braue,

Romes pretty Page, the Popes fine fawning Slaue.

And many Wonders wondrously doth write,

Whereto (in doubt) I Faith deny and plight.

These Packes of Pick-thanks, flattering Gnathoes base,

With luscious Larde fatten the Popes fat face.

These are dull Doctours, as dull Carkasses;

Hee these fond Fooles conformes, formes as hee please.

All these skinne-o're foule Antichrists deepe woundes:

But what's the Salue, when God the Sore confounds?

The golden-Legends of their Saints they'l show?

Whereof, Hee is most wise, which least doth know.

For senselesse Writs and sottish Writers rare:

Rome long hath borne the Bell, past all compare.

To which (deuoid of Light and Learning quite)

What Popes (each houre) put out, put in, is right.

In wondrous witlesse wise, many seeme wise:

Who little teach, and lesse doe exercise.

T' Apollo's Kitchin I'd not bring their Bookes,

But for Pie-papers, and for Spice for's Cookes.

And their mad making many Bookes, I feare;

Is it which makes mee buy my paper deare.

Hee which as forged Writings doth suppose

Canons-Apostolike, with Truth he goes.

But when Decrees, they Decre [...]als would call,

Gods true Religion, then, began to fall.

Neither my Mars, nor my Minera [...], may

Their New-Religions oft diuorce, diplay.

Thalia, bite thy Nailes, thy writings rend;

For, one-thing yet will not thy Verse attend.

Yet be couragious; courage much assists,

With strong-arm'd hopes to re-attempt the Lists.

[Page] Blacke and White-Friers, Priests, in gay Coates drest:

A two-foot Cordeleire a bare-foot Beast:

Fryers Mendicants and Manducants encrease,

Fat Epicurean-Calues, besmear'd with grease:

All these faire Sprigs, fat Pigs, Romes Sow doth breed:

From Romes most pregnant Dam, such Broods proceed.

Heere thou maist see Christs Name make many white:

Whose diuelish deeds make their liues black as night.

Their houres deuotion is their deuoration:

And to their throat to giue a fat oblation.

But some doe fast, that they by Fasts may merit:

And thereby thinke (fond fooles) Heau'n to inherit.

Each one his Sect obserues obsequiously,

Does Deeds forbidden, bidden Deeds doth fly.

This Sect, weares Linnen; That will woollen weare:

This Sect, holds Fish; That, Hearbs more holy fare.

This bald-pate narrow is; That's bald more wide:

This, weares his Gowne more loose, That's closer tide.

This, Augustine serues best; That Benedict:

This (O Carthusian) is thy Copesmate strict.

This, beares the Crosse, That beares the Coole about:

This, is for th' Altar; That, for th' Kitchin stout.

This (sweet Saint Francis) is thy follower bold:

That, as his Slaue, Saint Anthony doth hold.

This, like an Auchorite, liues in a Wall:

That, strange to th' World, loues the World most of all.

This, to Hee-Saints; That, to Shee-Saints, doth pray:

This, Woodden-gods; That, Stonie-gods makes gay.

This, to things fram'd, fain'd, pictur'd, prostrate vowes:

This, one knee; That, to's Image both knees bowes.

This, Christs; That, Peters; This, Pauls Ape will seeme:

This, you'l an Oxes, Asses, Sowes Mate deeme.

[Page]Finally; fitly, coth'

Bos, Fur, Su [...], alq, Sa [...]erdo [...].

Oxe, Theefe, Sow, Priest, meete:

And many, hold this Sect to bee most sweete.

Yet euery Sect thinkes his Rites holyest:

And, of all Orders, his to be the best.

Diuorcement of Religious Romanists;

Their Faith may se [...]er, neuer firmely twists.

There are, whom I'

Suita, de Suc.

Suites; from Sowes may name:

For, they their Names from Iesus falsely frame.

These are Peace-spoylers; Bellowes for to blow,

And Brands to kindle, flames of quenchlesse woe.

This fraud-blood-borne base-brood, dissembles, faines:

And with sweet words to hide sharpe Swords takes paines.

'T's enough, that they ye [...] Luther, Papists were;

This is their Faiths and their Religious Sphere.

See the Deuotion of these braue Whip-bearers:

How they with whips are dayly selfes-flesh Tearers.

Giuing themselues forty Stripes lacking one:

For, this in thee (O blest Saint Paul) w [...]s showne.

Francis (they say) Christs wounds in's Body bare:

To Romes Stygmatickes, Hee's the Patterne rare.

Hee onely had with Christ Conformity:

In's body therefore [...]hey fiue-wounds can spie.

I wish them, this deuotion still to hold;

This whipping-Cheere, Christs Coate, thus bought & sold.

But let their Whips three stinging Cords containe:

And Tiburn-like, triangled Markes remaine.

But why doe such huge Troopes of Wenches throng?

In Popish Camps, Their Couents, struggling long?

Obedience (sure) and vowed Chastity,

They there performe; true Popish piety.

Nymphs strangely pregnant, this Religion makes:

And from Maid-mothers their sad burthen takes.

[Page]In many Cells, this Hell-Spawne Papall Crue;

Vow-breaking Brood, their belly-gripes can shew.

If, in Romes holy Coope, hat [...]ht-chickens peepe:

'Tis chaste enough, if closly they it keepe.

In euery Cloister and religious Cell,

Their order, Rites, and Rules, doe all excell.

Each, for Religions Rule, his Order hath:

Their Orders order Fooles; disorder Faith.

Mongst all their honoured Sects by Order graced:

Romes Order rules, Gods Order is thence chased.

Alas, doth Romes Schismatike traine by fractions

Sound praises Harpe, or discords Dramme to factions.

At Festiuals approch, Good-Workes they praise:

But to performe them vse most long delayes.

Feasts ornate, onerate, each moneth, each day:

That, all the yeere (almost) brings dayes of play.

Then, with their Feete (not Hearts) to Church they goe:

Where prayers, performance, all their fingers show.

And who'd not sweare that they to Christ pray not?

When, as amaz'd, they pray, but know not what.

Thus they their frequent Mattens Vespers vtter:

And Orizons to Hee-Saints Shee-Saints mutter.

Thus, for Hearts Vowes, Harps various harmony,

They giue to God, Songs for Sincerity.

I oft admire, Romes Bacchus-like oblation:

Tis strange, yet see, things of more admiration.

Popes Bulls, Popes Pardons, Oh how deere they be?

Yet, this deere ware's not worth a Rush to mee.

Braue Balsome, th' Agnus-Dei, Fooles to gull:

I hold as deare as is a Locke of Wooll.

In Romes rare Riches and facetious-Treasure,

None but meere Mad-men, or fond-fooles, take pleasure.

[Page]Hee that is wise, Romes Buls, blowne bubbles makes:

Hee's wise, Romes Fathers Lead, as Feathers takes.

What speake I of the Frauds and lying Tricks?

From which, this holy Sire much money picks.

Romes Popes, the Worlds prime Pedlers, Chapmen braue,

Much gaine, from many Wares created haue.

Are Merry-Stewards of all sorts of toyes:

Chiefe Schoole-Masters, of Schooles of ioylesse Ioyes.

Yea, Romes quick-Sight, such money-Snares doth frame,

As, to relate, doe want, Meanes, Number, Name.

That gaine may grow, and Rome may Riches see:

Base Hucksters, Pedlers, Panders, Popes will bee.

What-ere Romes fingers feele, his eye doth spy:

His Heele kicks-at, is holyer, instantly.

For, from this holy Prelates spicey-lips,

Into All-things, rare sweetnesse strangely skips.

If Satans filthy throat beltch-vp Infection:

The Pope from's mouth breathes forth a fine Protection.

Besides, His holy Breath (strange to be told)

Makes all his Sons, the Holy-Ghost to hold.

Creating Masse-Priests, hands on them hee layes:

Breathes; then, Receiue the Holy-Ghost, hee saies.

Since Christ said, so; Hee must needs wicked bee:

Sayes, the Pope may not say't as well as Hee.

What-so is Christs, the holy Father claimes:

And, this▪ the Head of all sound Faith hee names:

For, whatsoe're Gods-Word our Sauiour gaue,

The Pope, Christs Little-Ape, the same must haue:

As to Ierusalem, an Asse, Christ bare:

So, should the Pope ride Asses, Horses spare.

Alas, one-day, would nothing neere suffice,

To reckon-vp all Romes fond Popperies.

[Page]By great good hap, to hunt for store of Coine,

The Pope hath got neat Gins and Engines fine.

Since, neuer Bishop thriu'd by Subtiltie:

The Popes Throne onely thriues by knauerie.

Faire Marts of Arts, and Crafts to get much gold,

He hath ordain'd; where mud for money's sold.

Anti-Christ, first Babe-like, then a Roarer stout,

To his great Grand-Sires dealt rich doales about.

But, now, his Tributes haue a Feuer got:

Which Griefe, to cure, he must contriue a plot.

What once was held Iupiters Image braue:

Fishing Saint Peters picture, now they'le haue.

But this I'd ne're beleeue, vnlesse my Creed

With a strong Mountaine-mouing Faith he feed.

So strong, long, loose a Faith all Popelings finde:

To trust whats'ere Popes wills their conscience binde.

Peters Conclaue, long after him wan't knowne:

Nor Rome to be Popes Sacro-sancted Throne.

The Carriage of the Host, so vp and downe,

Knew no such vse, as now is come to Towne.

The Master of Romes Market, sells vaine things:

And to Gods House, he, thus, base Riches brings.

He makes his Buyers, re-buy things fore-bought;

And yet the Sale his wares abateth nought.

He giues what's sold, what's giuen, he'le keepe, he'le hold:

And the same-thing to many, at once, is sold.

He frees, for fees, and (if the Pope thou pay)

His pitteous-Pardon is thine owne strait-way.

Romes Broker (trust it) hath all sorts of ware;

And Pearles of Blisse, for Gold, can soone prepare.

Reprobate, run to Rome, for (there) behold:

Heauens holyest Household-stuff thou'l [...] buy for gold.

[Page]Was this rare selling-Trade giuen Peter tho?

The Popes Bull (sure) shall ne're make me thinke so.

But now of Wonders wondrous rare, I write:

Vnworthy Credit, worthy Fooles to fright.

In many Temples made of Marble Stone.

Whereof proud Romes bigge brags abroad are blowne.

Their Stones sweat Blood, their wood yeelds trickling-teares

But he whose Faith here failes, is freest from feares.

Their mumbling strange, makes deuills, them obay:

And can enforce fiends fast to flie away.

Fairies, Hobgoblin [...], Witches, Fantasies,

Can doe no hurt, if the Pope play his prize.

In holy Fonts, their Bells baptized are:

Pay for a peale, and Sprites they quickly scare.

Incense they burne, their Altars to perfume:

Whereat the Deuill soone flies foorth of the roome.

Yea Romes blest Bishop by his soueraigne skill,

Can make the fiercest Fiend flie when he will.

Satan would rage-about, his Chaine being broke,

If Romes rare Art did not that yongster yoke.

Much talke they haue of holy-Waters good:

Whether it's not more powr'full than Christ, blood?

For, from sinnes spots and blots it frees the soule:

And Satans malice quickly can controule.

If sprinkled with this holy-dew, th'art blest:

For, of all Liquours, this is purely best.

Hemerobaptists, Papists rightly shew:

Who, madly must, each day, haue holy-dew.

O Puppet-playing Papists, Triflers vaine:

Crafts-Enginers, Deluders, most profaine:

He (I beleeue) which taught you this blacke-Art:

Than Satans selfe, playes better, Satans part.

[Page] Holy Lambes-wooll, is very dearely sold:

This, the Popes Cassocke makes more rich with gold.

If the Pope sell pure Wax, it purgeth Sinne:

This truth, than Truth it selfe more truth must winne.

With the Popes finger, to be blest is rare:

Deny this, and deny Seuens Starres there are.

O what great power, hath holy Vnction, Spittle,

Honey and Milke, to Grace? sure, 'tis not little.

But, if thy fiercest foes the crosse doe spie:

This conq'ring Signe, will (surely) make them flie.

Her circumspectiue care doth cure, keepe All;

Is the soules Target, Tower, to saue from thrall.

I wonders write: By it, the world is guided:

And with the crosse, Christ hath his Crowne diuided.

Not Christs coats hemme, not Dauids harpe, to God;

Elias Mantle, Moses Sea-cutting Rod:

Vnto the Crosse, in power, halfe equall were,

For, it, euen Gods owne might and grace doth beare.

When to the Crosse Christs Body was made fast:

Gods power vpon it (doubtlesse) then, was cast.

Flie Birds ith' Aire? A signe o'th' Crosse is made,

By their spred wings; by which signe, They are staid.

By Sailes and Masts, cuts a ship Neptunes waues?

Euen these doe, make a Crosse, and this, it saues.

The Plow-man with a Plow-share, plowes the ground:

A blessing-Crosse, there, also (sure) is found.

A Crosse-line cuts the heauenly Axle-tree:

In Heauen the holy Crosse (then) figured see.

On the Sea-shore men doe a Crosse erect:

The waues thereby That bound to passe are checkt.

Poyson, though drunke can doe thee no great ha [...]me▪

If, with the signe o'th' Crosse thy lips thou charme.

[Page]Great Father, worthy Fauter of the Crosse:

One question of It twixt vs, let vs tosse.

If, in the Crosse, the euill-sprite feares ought:

It must the matter or the forme be thought.

Feares he the matter? why then d'ont the sight

Of Pyles of Wood, Stones, Metals, him affright?

Feares he the forme and meerely figured frame?

Why then doe not all house-crosse-beames him tame?

A mad Crosse-worship then mad-Zeale displayes,

When in the Crosse, a Crosse to be she sayes.

But yet, the Crosse-waxe, which Popes Bulls doe weare,

Is most vnlike the Crosse, which Christ did beare.

O Romes deare Dedalus, expert in toyes;

Who, Wealth to win from fa [...] Farm [...]s, them, emploies:

Thinkst thou thus fondly me to Foolifie?

To trust thy Trickes as Truths sound certaintie.

My Head (I then) should hold blunt, void of wit:

And wish thy Triple-Crowne thereon to sit.

Now with thy Nifles, Trifles, reliques vaine,

'Tis time to end, since they no end containe.

For, thou with all, all sorts of reliques rare,

Gods holy Temple to prophane dost dare.

Thou searchest Tombes, thy Reliques to encrease:

Not suffering buried Bodies rest in peace.

Thus thou to th' vnknowne-land of Reliques goest:

And all thy Reliques all the World-ore showest.

Thus what with Reliques and such superstition,

To thee (O Christ) they scarce can giue admission.

Yet, all is sound Religion: for, hereby,

From the Popes Coat, all Errour's forc'd to flie.

Thus, he t' himselfe alone Christs Church fast chaines:

Here, dwels pure Truth; here, Faith, no Fraud remaines.

[Page]And now the Old-worls mustie Household-stuffe,

Brings to my ready Muse, Matter enough.

Much, now, swims-vp, which, sunke to th' bottome lay:

And store of Rubbish shines, now, cleare as clay.

The Image braue of graue Antiquitie,

Hath Signes of new, Signes of true dignitie.

Old Lawes, old Sawes, Primitiue-Church, most sure,

All old-Traditions, old-Religion pure:

All are at Rome, seene plaine, yet dost thou doubt?

Pure and sure Faith to dwell, all Rome throughout?

Why, hence, 'tis plaine, they Faith retaine, that they

Haue Gods pure worship banisht quite away.

And Rome for all her new-come Nouelties,

Straight brings out Signes of old Antiquities.

And hereby Papists, Gibeonites, are growne:

For, All that's theirs, is old, and ancie [...]t knowne.

That gentle Asses-taile, which Christ bestrid,

They haue with Gold and gorgeous gems quite hid.

Iosephs cast..coates, times Teeth, haue torne and worne:

Yet, Signes of their first-beautie, 'bout are borne.

A Pot the Virgin Maries Milke doth hold:

O 'tis deare Ware, indeed, and dearely sold.

Much mouldy Masse-Hosts in hid Pixes lie:

Which smell of Mice-prodigious Batterie.

He which doth sacred Sions wealth, call these;

Let him Milke Waspes, and ioyne together Bees.

Yet, lest Romes Mill grinde thee to powder small;

Though Faith may faile, thou must beleeue them All.

So many Bones, they'l of one Martyr show;

That (past perhaps) the like in no Oxe grow.

And oft for Martyrs bones, such bones are showne,

As formerly, were Hogs and Dogs bones knowne.

[Page]Scarcely one tombe, one coarses leauings keepes;

So quicke, each relique from Sepulchers creepes.

Rome, teeming Rome of fraud and cousenage full:

These Guiles holds godly, grossely men to gull.

But He that's well in's wits, spits at them all:

And smites them with Gods Sword Spirituall.

Alas, how much of Christs most holy Blood,

Is daily drunke by Romes dry Saints so good?

Yet, a poore drop of Christs his blood most pure,

This zealant Bottles-vp (beleeue it sure.)

This ranke Religious Prelate puissant,

These things to please God wond'rously, doth vant.

But I beleeue no Pythagorean-Asse,

Nor his brute thundring Threats a pin doe passe.

Delphicke Typhaeus, ratling rage, I scorne;

His deadlyest drams (if not drunke) may be borne.

His combe is cut, his power impair'd, of late,

Nor buts he halfe so hard with's three-crown'd pate.

This great Cumanus, yerst, did Monarchs fright:

But, since his hornes were hew'd, they scorne his might.

For, Vulcans Caecus, vomits but in vaine;

Fumes with fond fury, flames, which, Most disdaine.

Yet, Romes Law-giuing Moses hornes hath left:

Onely, He's of Noes noble Arke bereft.

A CORROLLARIE TO THE PREMISES.

[Page]

MAny moe Maruels maruellous

In Rome are kept most Curious,

Which in a Bundle and briefe Scope,

Ile binde-vp closely with a Rope.

Christs Girdle, Shoes, Coate, Haire, they haue,

His Night-Cap, Napkin, Shirt, they saue:

Last Suppers household Implements,

His Cradle, wounding-Instruments:

His Crowne of Thornes, the Sponge and Reed,

His Sheet, Whip, Lance that made him bleed.

Our Ladies Haire-Lace, Slippers good,

Combe, Girdle, Gowne, Ring, Cloake, Haire, Hood;

Much, giuen by Will, to th' Triple-Crowne,

Pure, precious Things, her gay Silke-Gowne.

Iohn Baptists Head, kept with great care,

Saint Peters Key, Crooke, Sword, and Chaire:

Full many Stones, that Steuen slew,

Old-shewred, sure, pure Manna-dew:

The Holy-Ghosts Clawes, Wings, and Bill,

Michaels Sword and Buckler still.

Of Euch'rist Iarres, large Histories,

Entities many, Quidities:

Inexplicate, Inextricate

Contentions how to consecrate.

[Page]Popes Palaces and Princely Courts,

Crimes Sanctuaries, Sinne supports;

Vice-teaching Schooles, ills Enginers,

A Shop of shamelesse Slanderers.

A gaping Gulfe, great Giants-court,

A Colledge where Prey-Birds resort.

A House of boystrous blustring Winds;

A Seed-plot for Seditious-Minds.

A filthie Mart of Holy-things,

Which to Gods house abuses brings.

A fierce Confounder of firme Faith,

Which Romes most rammish Father hath

Abolisht quite, by deuillish Dreams;

And thereby quencht-out Truths bright Beames:

That Catacath'licke Popes might place

Romes Cacolike Religion base.

Religion, veterate, false, ill-bred,

Past all Hels Spel [...] that er'e I read.

A dead, deformed, f [...]ultring Faith,

Blunt, blockish, which no Ground-worke hath.

Hid Myst'ry of Iniquitie,

Master-Piece of Impuritie.

Many a Soules vnsauorie Me [...]te;

Worme-wood to All that thereof eate.

Sweet Nectar most pestiferous,

A deadly Drug pernicious.

Couents in Combats duellizing,

Papisticke Armies martiallizing;

With Censures censuring diuersly

As with Foes Blowes euen forc't to die.

And many Scotists and Thomists,

And Occamists and Gabr'ellists.

[Page]And Nominals, Reals not Any,

And Syllogists, and Criticks many.

And many Muncks and Seculars:

And Regular Irregulars.

And many sottish Censurers:

And many sly Ly-Enginers.

And many Rowles of rare Decrees,

And many Romish Vanities.

And many Lightning sore Complaints,

And many thundring strict Constraints.

And many Sects and Sophisters,

And many bawdy Batchelers.

And many Saints most inquinated,

And many Nointed and Bald-pated,

And many burn't with sacred Zeale,

And Foes & Fooles to th' Cōmon-Weale.

And Parricides and Regicides,

And Demi-Gorgon Popes besides.

And many Card'nals Coapt in Red,

And many a proud vain-glorious Head,

And many dect with Miters, Rings,

And many Whores, and fat Kitchins.

And many Hee-Saints, Tombes most rare,

And many Shee-Saints, Chappels faire.

And many Idols, and Colosses,

And many Masses, Asses-Glosses.

And many Head-Bana's, and Head-Tyres,

And many Droues of fatted Fryers,

And many Miters, many Hoods,

And many, more, most impious Goods,

And Bishopricks, meere Mockeries,

And Bishops, Papall Trumperies.

[Page]And monstrous Lyes of Miracles,

And of Lowd-Lyes strange Oracles,

And Toyes to loade three-hundred Barkes.

O then, Who-e're These sees and markes,

Must needes cry-out in admiration,

O Rome, the Wonder of each Nation ▪

Deo soli omnis gloria.

VPON THIS BEE-HIVE OR HONEY-COMBE.

[Page]

THis Booke's a Bee, not Elephant: Much Gaine

The Readers Care, not Writers Crop, may bring;

Small Bee [...], small Iems, small Pearles, much good containe;

Is Thy small Good (small Booke) a baser Thing?

Fooles in their Brests (as Chests) Enuy doe treasure;

But in such Riches (Reader) take no pleasure.

FINIS.

Information about this book

Title statement

Babels balm: or The honey-combe of Romes religion With a neate draining and straining-out of the rammish honey thereof. Sung in tenne most elegant elegies in Latine, by that most worthy Christian satyrist, Master George Good-vvinne. And translated into tenne English satyres, by the Muses most vnworthy Eccho, Iohn Vicars.Melissa religionis pontificiae. English

Goodwin, George, fl. 1607-1620.

Edition statement

1624

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2004-03 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A01890

ID [STC]

STC 12030

ID [STC]

ESTC S103245

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

99839002

ID [PROQUEST]

99839002

ID [VID]

3395

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Series

Early English books online.

Notes

(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A01890)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 3395)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 1380:04)

Source

— Babels balm: or The honey-combe of Romes religion With a neate draining and straining-out of the rammish honey thereof. Sung in tenne most elegant elegies in Latine, by that most worthy Christian satyrist, Master George Good-vvinne. And translated into tenne English satyres, by the Muses most vnworthy Eccho, Iohn Vicars., Melissa religionis pontificiae. English, Goodwin, George, fl. 1607-1620., Vicars, John, 1579 or 80-1652..

Extent

[20], 111, [1] p.

By George Purslowe for Nathanaell Browne, and are to be sold at his shop, at the vpper end of the long walke neere Little S. Bartholomews,. Imprinted at London :: 1624.. (A translation of: Melissa religionis pontificiae.) (In verse.) (The first leaf is blank.) (With a dedication to William Herbert, Earl of Pembroke. Variant: cancel dedication to John Egerton, Earl of Bridgewater.) (Reproduction of the original in the Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery.)

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