A doleful Discourse and ruthfull Reporte of the greate Spoyle and lamentable losse, by fire, in the Towne of East Dearham, in the Countie of NORFOLKE: Vpon Tuesday the .18. of Iulie, this present yere .1581.

HOSEA. 5. Verse. 14.15. ¶I wil be vnto IPHRAYM as a LION, and as a Lyons whelp vnto the house of IVDA: I, euen I, wil spoile and go away, I wyl take away and none shal rescue it: I will go and returne to my place til they acknowledge their fault and seeke mee.
2. CRO. 36. Verse. 16. ¶They mocked the Messengers of God, and dispised his worde: and misvsed his Prophets, vntyll the wrath of the Lord aroase against his people, and till there was no remedie.

AT LONDON.

Printed by Richard Bra­docke, for Richarde Hollens: And are to be solde at his Shop oueragainst the Signe of the Bell within Algate. 1581.

¶TO MY DEARE FRIENDE AND CHRI­stian Brother, Richard Atlee, Inhabitant of the desolat Towne of Eastdearham, and to his vertuous wife, Alice Atlee: ARTHVR GVRNEY wissheth prosperitie, and all good thinges, in CHRIST IESV.

ABoute a fortnight since, it was my hap to vnderstande of a Ballet (as I take it) then newly come from the Presse, contey­ning a brief and doleful Discourse of the late burning of East DER­HAM. And (as for mine owne part) I both was and am a witnes of the wonderful euents therof: and therwithall (what for my conti­nuall trauell of body and mind, the ruines of my friendes & allies and mine owne smal losses) a fellow feeler of the heauy burthen imposed vpon the townes estate: euen so, with so much the more good will I enterteyned the newes, expecting some better sequell, and rested not, til mine eyes were testi­monies of the trueth. But when I perused the same, and approued the penning as suffi­cient in that or such like cases, I was (neuerthelesse) well aduised of sundrie vntruethes, whiche the Author (no doubt) not so much vppon pretenced deprauation, as for want of necessarie instruction had inserted. And allbeit, no important thing hath therin escaped, which (for mine owne part) I would not tollerate, of verie good wil in that re­spect: yet sithe her Maiestie, her honorable counsaile, many noble, worshipful, & com­mon personages, bee otherwise infourmed of the matter: as also, the duetie of a chri­stian, requiring by all meanes to intercept the course of an vntrueth: and last of all, in diuersities of wandring reportes to establish some certaintie, I haue vndertaken in the discourse of the matter, to set downe such an assurance of his particuler errours, and instead therof, interposed such trueth, as the diligent obseruation of mine owne experi­ence and the triall of many sound iudgements can confirme and testifie.

¶One poinct (therfore) wherin he failed, is touching the nomber of Tenementes, Messuages, or mansion houses subuerted and spoyled.

The .2. cōcerning the dissolution of our houses necessarie for diuers domestical vses.

¶The .3. his insinuation of a totall losse and detriment susteined.

In these three (speciallie) hath he left the matter destitute of true report: for, as I haue expressed in the sequell of my treatise: the nomber of tenementes is. LII. whiche he calleth. LX. The houses of office, 350. or there aboutes: which hee reducethe into the nomber of .80. The value of all together .8000. li. or very litle lesse, which he re­porteth to be .14000. The two first (without al controuersie) are mistaken, and pub­lisshed falselie: But as for the last, I must confesse, that (at a blush) it seemeth to carrie great appearance of truth: and I my selfe was therin greatly ouerseene & deceiued, vn­till with certaine other (of good experience) I had made an estimate of euerye parti­culer losse, and brought them to a generall and grosse summe.

Neuerthelesse, if we may recken the charge, which the towne (if euer she be repay­red) wil exact, to make returne of her former estate, I meane in nomber and quantitie of houses, and (therwith) not pretermit her manifold losses, namely, of coyne, corne, implements of Houshold stuffe, victuales, wood, Timber, chattell, fruict, wels, pumps, hay, straw, time and trades, wherby euer since they haue declined and gone backward, which with the rest are and ought to be brought into the rekning: It is certaine true, that of, 14000 .li. a small remnant wyll remaine, if any deale be left at all.

[Page]But this is an other case: for an accompt is rather to be raised accordinge to the rate of so much money as euery mans house and stuffe would yeald in sale, if now it weare in STATV QVO PRIVS. For albeit the buildinges were such as might haue ser­ued many yeares and ages, if it had pleased the Lorde to permitte them to posteryties: yet of a newe house, in quantitie of proportionable resemblance with an old, and of an old, is not one and the selfe same reason: because by how mvch it excedeth in good­nes, by so much ought it to be preferred in price and estimation.

So then the whole losse which towne hath susteyned is 8000 .li. or there abouts, & the reedifiyng or restauratiō of the same in necessary maner with such other reconings adhearent as I haue allready cast ouer, will amount to litle lesse then 14000. and so it seemeth not vainely saide.

He that buyeth a house ready wrought,
Getteth many a nayle fot nought.

Thus much Sir, touching the cause that moued me to intermedle & busie my selfe about the affayres of this processe.

Now whereas the Lord of his owne especiall grace from amongest the rest of that part of the towne destroyed, hath gleaned out your house, as one eare out of a shocke of corne, and preserued it alone amids the multitude of so monsterous flames, though I am in no case to exhort you whome I prefer before my selfe, or at the least do make no inferiour, eyther in the due acceptation of suche a benefit at his Highnes hande, or in recounting the causes why he hath ben more mercyfull to you then the rest of all that towne, and what purposes he seemeth to haue pointed and aymed at therein: yet sith I dayely heare men more reddye to attribute occasion vnto the meanes whiche the Lord vsed in that action of mercy, and to detract from him that honour and priuiledge that in all good thinges is due to him onely: then to waye and consyder what it is to neglect the meryte of his grace herein: I am to craue your pardon if this my Epistle shall seeme any thing tedious and not facioned with that DECORVM that best might become so short a discourse as is the treatis it selfe.

You knowe I am sure that albeit the case of the towne in that dismall daye wherein it was afflicted, was no lesse myraculous in the eyes of good men, then feareful to the [...]ad whose tonges at the same instant could implore the ayde of God and attende vpon his ordinance, yet hath it pleased some since that time to make so diuers constructions thereof as dothe agree and ioyne with all vntrueth: and to take so slender tast of true knowledge as if their sences had eyther of late forsaken them, or as if they were newe drunke and lulled a sleepe in their obliuion, as in truthe they seeme in all goodnesse.

These be the mē that turn al things be they neuer so graue & waightie vnto wan­tonnes, that are alwaies musling with beasts in the myre of worldly matters, & neuer vouchsafe to lend so muche as half an eye to looke vpō the sunshine of Saluation, ne will be procured to put forth one poore nuger to take acquaintance of the power and prouidence of God: but readily proffer their hand & the seruice of al the instrumē tal parts of their bodye to welcome & enterteine Māmon that monster their Maister.

But it is no matter, thei shew euē the same modestie towards God whē he sheweth himself vnto thē, that in the cōmō course of their life thei haue don towards those that are presēt with thē, namely the professers of the Gospel, & in the ende, shal find their fault I doubt not, & throughly vnderstād it either vnto perpetual pain, or repētance: In the meane seasō, sith in their darkenes we perceiue faire daylight & the glory of God [Page] in their iust cōdēnation, if that be the reward of their ingratitude let thē accumelate their sinnes, seing they wil needes be filthy, till they haue ascend, the throne of iudge­ment, and we shal see and they feele the greatnes of their owne greeuous fall.

Let vs I say, be sure, that God reuealeth himself to no infidel, preordeined to perdi­tiō, & therefore cōfirme our selues so much the more in our hope, by how much the lesse they make reconing of the trueth & their own headines & wretched cōditiō. For in truth, nothing can cōmend the good estate of a Christiā to his own soule & cōsci­ence with more vndoubted argumēts, thē whē he seeth himself cōtinēt in the wicked actions & demeanour of worldlings, & hath fayth in all the changes & chaūces of this vnconstant lyfe to pul true obedience vppon him for his protectiō: The rest rowle euery waye & tumble vp & downe like restlesse waues of water, allwayes relatinge the mercies and myracles of the Lord as accidents to prophane beginninges.

And as they are seldome possessed with the spirit of humilitie, euen so they tosle and turmoyle them selues in affliction til they are windlesse, and then breathe and to it a­gaine, with infinit curssinges and quarreles till tract of time hath worne awaye the so­rowe of their case, or made them feele the pricke that posteth their danger, of sicknesse death, or desperation.

These poore soules neuer learned of Dauid, Iob and the rest, howe to behaue them­selues vnder the Crosse and hand of God, they accompt him a God no longer then he pynneth prosperitie vppon their sleeues, or wayghteth vpon them with aboundance of wealth and pleasures if they accompt him a God at all.

But if their eyes were not seeled that they might flye right vpp till they are wearie & then fal straight downe & breake their neckes, they might gather a heape of myracles together passed in the ruines of this our towne, and by the same learne to knowe the prouidence of God.

As the wall couered with drye & parched strawe, which although it be platted where the fire had free accesse and stood like a stake in the midest of ouerwhelming floudes, yet doth it stand whole and sound, yea &, which is more, with one of the corner postes burnt a good depth iust in the midst of the top, with strawes stroughtinge ouer it vn­perished. What? hath fortune care of strawes? or could these (little wretches) laye hold on her heary side, & a whole streat of houses so many furlongs long not misse the bald. Oh fine strawes, if your dexteritie haue saued you, thanke your selues. If Fortune, fie on her harlot, that would be so freendly vnto you, who neuer did her good, and so fro­ward to the rest, that neuer wisht her harme.

Lykewise the winde which allwayes changed in defence of those houses that nowe stand, and then were in danger, may shew how farr the Lord did purpose to reache his rod, It cannot be denied with anye colloure of trueth, that when the fire had gotten the market stead, the wind from the sowthwest chaunced full west, whereby that side was preserued, and when it had gotte, by your house and beyond it, so that had the fire taken the next rowe, the remnant, except God being able to do what he wil, had shewed a wonderful myracle: must of necessitie haue gon with the fore end of the pece, then I say he brought the winde from the west to the northwest, which kept off both the blaze & sparcks & turned them almost backe again, or at the least, that way wherin lay no dāger. If any deny this, not only my self who duly obserued these alterations as I labored, but other credible witnesses also can testifie with me, & in the end when the fire was suppressed & beaten downe, then lo, it returned into the same stead wherein it stode at the first.

[Page]Moreouer, why cannot our fortune men gather nothing out of the preseruation of your house, knowing that another was burnt to the earth whichin the on end, namli on the stree [...] syde was ioyned to it and came somwhat within it, [...] on the backe syde be­twene the foūdations of the crosse buildings was at the most but foure foot distance, so that by al likelihod of imagination the eues of ech other must concur within lesse then thre quarters of a yard? if thei say your mansion hous (wherof the question is) is a tiled house & that you had the assistance of the pit & great help of mans hand, I graunt. But I pray you who put that boldnes and courage in one only man, whom we neuer before knew desperat in rash attempts whē your hous was al redy fired, for want of ladders to break out betwen two spars, there to indure that great peril & danger that not only his parents & frends cried out on, but al the standers by also for dread of his presēt death? who I say in this notable distres made him the instrumēt of your good & an incorage mēt to the rest? was it God or fortune? now, al this say our Epicures was fortune forsoth: it was but good & euil luck, it was but habardepas, it was but this or that, & which for a penny. Alas if I should go about to persuade thē that before the pit was made, or er the hous was raised, or er you were born, God held the purpose of your defence, I think thei would iudge me mad, and yet is it greater madnes by oddes to denye it.

Finallie in a world of such witnesses & argumēts of the prouidēce of god to make short with thē & cōclude in a word: so sone as the fire was ceased, who sēt that notable shoure of rain? was it fortune to show her self in her pōtificalibus, or the lord to declare to vs & proue what he cold haue don in time for our safty, if it pleased him? they which ascribe these things to fortune, let them set her on the top of the pinacle, rest in her cōtempla­tion & seruice & seek non other gods, for she is euen good ynough to show them ex­perience of eternall shame.

It repented godly Augustine that euer he dishonored the name of God by talking of fortune with his tong, but these men are not afraid to rob God of his glory, & honour her with their harts▪ But if thei happen to be hunted (like hogs that are led by the eares) from this fortres of theirs, so as they must eyther confes God or els be pointed out for blaspheming Atheysts, then straight way theie say that indeed he suffered it, but neither willed it, nor did it: wherin also thei shape them out a God according to their own sha­dow, who by this resō must suffer that which he wold not or be a carelesse & idle ouer­seer of worldlie maters. wel I leaue thē to their grosnes til the lord shal please to vouch safe their better knowledge or bring vpon them the iust effects of wilfull ignorance.

Now for asmuch as amidds so great desolatiō he hath left you this notable trial of his loue, & tumbled the rest together before the owners faces as thogh he wold haue you to know & cōfesse, & the rest to beare witnes of his fauour towards you: For the loue of god (for your parts) āswere him again with your due obedience in that caling wherin he hath placed you, euen of a redy & willing mind to bring glory to his name, profit to his church & cōfort to your own consciences. And as you haue hitherto ben counte­naūcers of the poore professors of Iesus christ in this your town, & louing frends to al other: so herafter, be not wāting (as I trust you wil not) in reforming & bridling those, whose religion & maners, you daily see too too far out of square & order, haling the iugdemēts of god vpō them & others, who but for them wold be more teachable, & in short space better taught. And the Lord (who in althings can see the secrets of your in­tents) shal blesse your labours & reward you with the open liberalitie of his glorious kingdome: which I beseeche him graunt vnto you both. Amen,

¶Yours, in the Lord, A R. GVRNEY.

¶A LAMENTABLE DISCOVRSE of the Spoyle of East DEARHAM.

WHo markes the steps of this vnstayed state,
Least they be reserued for as great or greater Iud­gement.
And sées the seas which sink vs in our sin,
And wiseli weies our wicked wādring gate,
And floudes of filth that we lye frozen in,
Maye mourne with me, our cases are akinne.
I tyed my trust to trifling trash and pelfe,
He by my harme maye séeke to saue himselfe.
¶ A Towne I was though blest, not braue, God wott,
A Towne of meane report
Ne of renoune, my name was allwayes small,
My treasures thinne, yet trades which I had gott,
Did hould me high vppon an happy stall:
An ayde was I, but in no case a thrall
To neighbour Townes dispersed heare and there,
My state was sound and stoode for stately chere.
¶My fields full faire, my pastures pight for good,
My waters cleare, my fruict sufficient:
My bounds both broade and well bestad with wood,
My Comons large and comly to content:
Cōmodyties.
But oh, my sinne deserued to be shent,
And lowde did call the vengeance of my God,
Who heard at last, and lasht mée with his Rod.
¶For lo, where late I was a Towne at néedes,
VVhere Iudgementes & where lawes were oft discust,
Am now become a Nettle bush of wéedes,
Defaste with fire and halfe returnd to dust:
Eastdearham.
My name to ken, who so hath any lust,
Dearham I am, scituate next the East,
In Norffolk soile, full well for man and beast.
Meaning all other townes and warnyng them.
¶Come foorth, therfore, both friend and foe I meane,
I counsell all, and none would ouerpasse:
Come learne of mée, that whylome sounde did dreame
Of happy state, but saw not what it was,
A world of sinnes hath caused my disgrace:
Yea, comon faultes, and in no calme degrée,
Therfore, I say, now sée your selues by mée.
¶When as I stoode in peace and pleasant rest,
Guarded with these and pleasures many moe:
My pleasant pathes so promist mée the best,
That (voide of dread) I doubted no suche bloe:
For why? the tempest that hath wrought my woe,
Was out of sight and couerd with a clowde,
which causd mée pranck, oh wretch & patern prowde.
¶Why should I count, the courses of my cryme?
Syth true it is, I plunged was most déepe
In eche offence that doth reproch the tyme,
And in these daies, so rocke the worlde asléepe?
My sinnes, my sinnes, haue caused mée to wéepe,
Whome God hath made a Myrrour to them all,
That sée my sore, or euer serch it shall.
¶A Drunkard (friends) was I with déepe delight,
Drunckennes goeth not a­lone.
And pamperd vp my paunche with belly chéere:
I left not so, but styll came on foorthright,
To thousandes moe, then I haue cited héere:
I cared not to cogge, to lye and sweare,
To boast and brawle, I thought no simple sport,
Ne yet the good, with spite to misreport.
¶Thus, by degrées, I practised my parte,
For (whirlyng now) came Whordome on withall,
Selfe wyll, Hatred, and swellyng Pride of hart,
The lacke of Loue, did throughly make mée thrall:
I serud my selfe, and poasted next the wall
My neighbour, friend or foe, what ere he was,
As though I raued, to ride on Mydas Asse.
¶Loe friends you sée the cause of all my wrecks,
Cause.
Euen sinne it was that stroocke this fearefull stroake,
Nowe shall you heare the forme of such effects,
As do pursue them which the Lord prouoke,
Effects.
Theyr glory fades and falles away like smoke,
Expert am I and witnesse in the case,
Whose fumeing faults haue thus besmeard my face.
¶Attend therefore the sequell of my tale,
And I shall showe the shape of my myshapp.
Beléeue me well I will not passe my pale,
But truely touch the trueth in euery gapp,
For why? to lull or luske in lyers lapp,
Ought duely of all men to be abhorde,
Nowe lyst I saye, and do the trueth recorde.
¶When Ioue my iudge the mighty Lord on highe,
Had looked long and could not sée me come,
And when I card not for his call and crye,
Without recouery.
Ne would be s [...]i [...]de to stoupe vnto his doome,
And when I showde my selfe both deaf and dum,
Then vp he starts and straight had pight the plott
Which staind my state, and layd me to my lott.
¶For at the least, more then a monthe right out,
Drought.
Before he blew the brand that burnt me thus,
He sent a season of sunneshyne and drowghte,
No day came downe to dewe my vtter crust,
But parcht me like the perfect tunder dust,
So that the stéele no sooner gaue the stroake,
But flames flew out and I began to smoake.
¶The time of yeare, was trustie to the touche,
This spo­ken. tantum se­cundum quid.
For Iulie did her drie daies beginne:
Who to the Matche. the Candle well could couche,
And light the mist of my misfortune in:
Now woes gan weaue the web which I did spinne,
And sith the Lorde hath iust set downe my time,
Mans helpe vaine.
I iumpt in vaine to saue mée by a shrine.
IVLY.
¶The eightéenth day of that same mournfull moone,
Within the yeare of thincarnation
A comparisō borrowed of the Moone [...]tring into the line of [...]
Of Christ our Lord Gods welbeloued sonne,
One thousand fiue hundreth eightie and one.
Before eleuen a clocke in the forenoone,
I tooke my course into Ecliptica,
And leaft my lampe in lewde Saturnica.
¶For why, the Lord did hide him nowe behinde,
The Center of his whole consuming yre,
He alludeth stil vnto an e­clipps.
And nowe my sinne the torture so vnkinde,
Opposde me iust wherof aroase the fire,
For looke howe much my flames encreased hier,
So much they dimd and daunted my estate,
And causd me crouch vnto a crabbed fate.
¶My stréets were longest twixt the South and North,
The cituation of the towne.
And therin peard such beauty as I bare,
My breadth from East to West did passe right forth,
And as in townes crosse stréets full comon are,
Right so in me they went and planted were.
Whereby fower wayes the fier soone was spred,
All which at one must néedes annoye my head.
¶The winde (God wot) did waite at the southwest,
The wynde.
To blowe the blaze into the market plot,
All thinges were armde and redy to arrest,
My carelesse corps, that all mishaps forgot,
Wherefore I serued am, full lyke a sot,
For lo, euen in the midst of the high streate,
The cuilles were met which did me thus intreate.
¶As for the man with whome it did begyn,
Where the fire beganne.
The heauens behold I would not hyde his cryme,
Yet I suppose he hath committed sinne
Which lately gald him in a retchlesse rime,
For if I weare, his faultes for to define,
I could not charge him with infamous actes,
Ne treade the trace of his so filthy factes.
¶He is (no doubt) a sinner with the rest,
And beares the Badge of Adames beastly parte,
And broodes the bale, that bréedes within his brest,
And hoordes the harmes that hanges on eche mans hart,
I know what I could say of his desart:
But let that passe, I am not here to tell
Of praise, but how with mée it late befell.
¶Betwixt the wife and maide of that same man,
Right true it is, my bane at first brake out,
To whome (lykewise) no harme adiudge I can,
In this their fact, for why? what man can doubt,
But that they rued the ruine of this route?
Besides (my frendes) in all these flames and smoake
We may be sure, the Lorde did strike his stroake.
¶This being thus, why should I chalke his chaunce?
With markes of mallice and of fowle despight,
Full well I sée, he did but leade the Daunce:
For many moe were pesterd in that plight,
Yet all (I déeme, with verie dull delight:
And sith I knowe, God eft with his beginnes,
1. Pet. 4.17.
Why do I poinct at this man and his sinnes?
¶Admit the Lorde would wrest from him my woe,
And first of all, put him in for his parte,
Shall I anone, my wayes and wantes let goe,
As though my selfe had neare deseru'd to smarte,
None can so compt, but being fond in hart,
Let me (therfore) still as I ought beléeue,
That he hath tane, which first to me did géeue.
¶But nowe againe, I turne me to my tale,
My Belles were ronge, and I straight waies aroase,
My neighbours heard them both from Hill and dale,
No helpe can intercept the work of God.
Which way so ere the rumour spreads and goes,
But all was one, were they my friendes or foes,
They could not stint ne stay the strong decrée,
Which God had pitcht and plotted out for mée.
¶Yet sith I say, I could not vnderstand,
Meanes [...]d.
Ne search the secretes of his holy head
Nor sée how farre he would stretch foorth his hand,
Nor what for mée he had afore decréed:
I left no let that might mée stand in stead,
But vsed those my Masteries in chiefe,
That promist most, yet least did ease my griefe.
¶Some water drewe, some did the same transporte,
Some Ladders reard and ran to houses toppes,
Some spread wet cloathes, and some in wofull sorte,
Came headlongs downe from Eues where water drops
Some counsaile gaue, and called other fops,
Some cride allowde, do reare before the fire,
And some bad rend, but where I would repaier
¶Some sought to saue some lynnen cloth and ware,
And some againe my coyne gan fast convay,
Some came with Carts, and with whole loades of care
Some Gooddes did leade into the fields and way,
Some for their déedes and Euidences pray,
Some that were stoarde of vittailes and of graine,
Did sée it burne vnto their losse and paine.
¶Some from the field returned soone and fast,
But were shut out, and could no where get in.
Some to scape out, with baggage ran in haste,
And could perceiue no sawte where to begin,
Thus some and some great wéerinesse did winne,
Vntyll the some was verie scant and small,
That idle stoode, and in no stead at all.
¶And what for this? where is the gaine I got?
My meanes did fade, and fall flat to the grounde,
And all my helpes and handes were staid (God wot)
Which sought to saue me in that state and stownde:
Because the Lorde would néedes me now confownde,
And make mée tast some triall of mishap,
Thus was I caught in trifling with the trap.
¶For loe, the Ladders that were soone set vp,
The fier did force to fall right downe as fast:
Ladders burnt
My strength was staid, that I mought sup the Cup,
And ken my selfe a captiue at the last,
The winde did waxe, as though it made great haste,
To fling the flames of fowle fate aboute,
And could reioyce my weale to scorne and flowt
¶And where my aide in water chiefly lay,
As in a meane for suche distresse preparde,
The [...]nifite of w [...] lost.
And where I made my most recourse that way,
My footing fayld till all my Mart was mard,
Full sodenly therof was I debard:
For why? the brandes, they whirld so fast aboute.
They burnt my Pumps, & won my welles right out
¶And where my wares was poasted too and fro,
And leaft at large, for euery man to sée,
pylf [...]s.
Fewe bought (God knowes (but many borowed so,
That I haue cause to curse their knauerie:
And shall no lesse (I doubt mée) while I die:
For though euyll windes do blowe some men to good
Yet aro they lewde, that liues by others foode.
¶Nay, lowdly lewde, and most accursed wighres,
Be they who sée the Thunderboultes of God,
Th [...] [...]cked­nes [...].
Aboute their cares, and still dare vse the sleightes,
And in their thest and villanie thus plod,
Where shall they haue their lasting place and boade,
In heauen? no, here I pawne and pledge my soule,
Except they turne, and tame suche fancies fowle.
¶Can any beast that féedes on carren vile?
Or can the Dogge spew out suche filth as this?
Or can the Deuyll more damnably beguile?
Those whom he traines to turne from lasting blisse,
If all the Furies were agréed [...]
They could scarse coyne [...]
Then these haue found, by [...]
¶If Pallas had set ouer all her skill,
Or were my tongues more then were Argus eyes,
Or had I got the trade of Tullies Quill:
These often tould, could me not halfe suffice,
To paint and portray out in worthy wise,
The sore, the sinne, the shamefull partes of man:
Whose mind and moode no meane but madnes can
¶For though the Lorde imprints in clowde and skie,
Right strange Edictes, to call vs home from sinne,
Natu [...] [...]uses
And so by signes of Iudgementes dayly trie,
The canckred case that we lie tumbling in,
Yet nothing wyll our wandring sences winne,
We straight, in nature, can discerne the cause,
And so ascribe eche thing vnto her lawes.
¶We diuersie can descant of the Earth,
And dull vs in ou [...] déepe deuices so,
And showe the cause of plentie and of dearth,
And what doth shake the grounde, and manie moe,
We are so farre betwitcht and gone in woe,
That whē the Lord doth plead our plagues by word
We shift it off, as though he did but bourd.
¶Doubtlesse I déeme, or (rather sée right well,
That if from Heauen, we heard his voice and crie:
Or if he sent the séelie soules from Hell:
Diue [...] La­zaru [...]
To warne vs by t [...]eir wofull miserie,
We would accompt all this but fablerie,
So that (alas) I can not iudge ne thinke,
VVhat may vs saue, that haue such mindes to sincke
¶If fearefull Comete glide ouer our head,
Or blasing Starres shine in our shameles eyes,
If Sickenesse haue our sore both brought and bred,
Or els the losse of landes caused our cries,
Of these (I say) we dasell and deuise,
[...] Nature, as our God,
[...] and dayly nod.
¶Fewe prooffes herein may séeme sufficient,
For (out alas) how many way the trueth,
Myne eyes, myne eyes, want no experiment,
That maye me driue to dole and double ruthe,
Note this wel
For of my heauy harmefull hap ensuthe,
Nought els with most, but discord and disdaine:
And of my losse, haue many made their gaine.
¶But if they feare the iudgements of the Lord,
Or knewe from whence this passing plague did springe,
Or would not wrongly still my case recorde,
Ne shrowd my shame vnder their fortunes winge,
They would be carefull of this cruell thinge,
And rather learne to leaue for feare of paine,
Then loue so long to liue by trayters traine.
¶But all in vaine I séeme thus to inuey,
Their frozen heartes I feare not soone can thowe,
The prechers after the fyer in fearfull ma­ner, charged to restore all the stoln stuf.
They haue ben taught and truely told the waye,
How they might gaine, and in Gods fauour growe,
But they are deafe, they loue to heare of snowe,
Therefore I leaue them that will filthy bée,
And so againe vnto my tale do flée.
¶When as I sawe I was so sore beset,
On cry side that now no hope I had,
And that my meanes did fall into the net,
And all was fishe that came, bothe good and bad,
Right hastily and all, in care yclad,
I muckehild vp, my mooueables and stuffe,
And shortely saued myckle mangled shruffe.
¶Alas the while, what sight was this to sée,
I got a bed, the fier gainde a house,
I chopt a chip, it tooke away the tree?
It caught the head and I reacht backe a louse
For euery plume, I parted with a geese,
And yet alas, it rag'de and ran so fast,
That lo, this lucke it suffered not to last
¶For after it had once begonne to fume,
No mercy in fyer
Against the winde, and with the winde it went,
It leaft no side, bue eftsoones did assume,
All that it toutcht, and no way would be pent,
Till my long stréetes, on both sides it had brent,
And made them lowe and leauell with the grounde,
And of my coyne, had molten many a pownde.
¶The Houses Mansion, which it brought downe,
Were fiftie two, euen there aboutes I gesse,
The summe of houses.
And all the rest, that burnt were in the Towne,
Thrée hundred and fiftie, not many moe ne lesse.
So that the totall nomber I confesse,
Is foure hundred and twaine, which I clearely lost.
And now do lacke, to my great griefe and cost.
¶The Fish and flesh, that I forehande preparde,
Hauocke.
The Drinke, the drugges, the bread, butter and chéese,
The Hay, the strawe, the wood for whiche I carde,
All at a clappe, I must forgoe dnd léese:
The Catchpole caught them as his lawfull fées,
Which laide me supperlesse vpon my Bed,
When I scarce fownde a Cowch to calme my head.
¶The Fruict that late I looued to pare and prune,
Hunger is good [...]use
I nowe could reache well roasted from the trées,
Hunger with care, had harpt so swéete a tune,
That Bisket Boxes, Carawayes and these,
I leaft at large, for daintie waspes and Bées,
And now could leape alofte to catche a crust,
And snap it vp with Appetite and lust.
The moane of infants & women with children.
¶And doubtlesse, who had heard the Infantes moane,
For lacke of lodging and accustomed fare,
Or of the brusde and burnt, the grieuous groane,
Or séene the shift, that poore estate and bare,
Of women, that full bigge with children weare,
Would neare forget the Pageants nor the plight,
So long as he could knowe a wofull wight.
[...]

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