The popish kingdome, or reigne of Antichrist, written in Latine verse by Thomas Naogeorgus, and englyshed by Barnabe Googe Regnum papisticum. English Naogeorg, Thomas, 1511-1563. 1570 Approx. 515 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 99 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2005-12 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A04873 STC 15011 ESTC S109280 99844930 99844930 9789

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Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A04873) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 9789) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 346:16) The popish kingdome, or reigne of Antichrist, written in Latine verse by Thomas Naogeorgus, and englyshed by Barnabe Googe Regnum papisticum. English Naogeorg, Thomas, 1511-1563. Googe, Barnabe, 1540-1594. Naogeorg, Thomas, 1511-1563. Agriculturae sacrae libri quinque. Book 1-2. English. aut [6], 88 leaves By Henrie Denham, for Richarde VVatkins, Imprinted at London : Anno. 1570. A translation of: Regnum papisticum. In verse. Includes "The spirituall husbandry", a translation by Barnabe Googe of the first two books of: Agriculturae sacrae libri quinque. Includes index. Reproduction of the original in the Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery.

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eng Catholic Church -- Controversial literature -- Early works to 1800. 2005-05 Assigned for keying and markup 2005-07 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2005-08 Sampled and proofread 2005-08 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2005-10 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion

The Popiſh Kingdome, or reigne of Antichrist, written in Latine verſe by Thomas Naogeorgus, and englyſhed by Barnabe Googe.

2. TIMOTH. 3. Lyke as Iannes and Iambres withſtoode Moiſes, euen ſo doe theſe alſo reſiſt the truth. Men they are of corrupt mindes, and lewde as concerning the faith: but they ſhall preuaile no longer. For their fooliſhneſſe ſhall be manifeſt to all men, as theirs was.

¶ Imprinted at London by Henrie Denham, for Richarde VVatkins. Anno. 1570.

To the right high, and mightie princeſse, Elizabeth by the grace of God, Queene of Englande, Fraunce, and Ireland, defender of the fayth, and of the Church of England and Ireland, on earth next vnder God the ſupreme gouernour.

I WOƲLD NOT HAƲE TAken vpon me (moſt gratious and my redoubted ſoueraigne Lady) to haue brought into engliſhe this briefe diſcription of your graces greateſt aduerſarie, though often I haue thervnto beene earnestly required, but only of purpoſe to dedicate it to your maieſtie: Neither yet woulde I ſo haue preſumed to haue done, but that I haue here before ſeene your graces most gratious accepting of ſmaller matters. The Author ſo eloquentlye in Latin hath exprest his minde, and ſo plainely and truely hath deſcribed the fayned ſanctitie of the Romiſhe religion that nowe ſo much is boasted of, as J cannot but iudge him a preſent meete for a Queene. The tranſlatiō (though rude) ſo dealeth with truth, as being earneſtly hated of the enimies of truth, it requireth of neceſsitie the patronage of ſo noble a princeſse, being before in Latin ſafely defended by the no leſse vertuous, than valiaunt prince the Lantgraue of Heſſ, a Prince as well affected in religion, as of minde and courage inuincible. Most humbly I therfore beſech your maiestie to vouchſafe the defence thereof againſt the wrongefull ſlaunders of malitious tongues, and to pardon, according to your accustomed clemencie, my bolde attempt in preſenting to your highneſse ſo rude a tranſlation: wherein I haue the leſſe beene curious, bycauſe it was chiefely made for the benifite of the common, and ſimpler ſorte. J haue alſo herevnto ioyned ſome parte of another booke written by the ſame Author, and entituled, The ſpirituall husbandrie (which I long before tranſlated) bicauſe the other being printed, ſeemed ſomething to ſmall in volume. God long preſerue your moſt excellent maieſtie, and alwaies in all daungers as he hath hitherto moſt wonderfully done: ſo euermore thorow his mightie and mercifull prouidence defend the ſame to his honor and glorie, and the ſinguler comforte of all your louing ſubiectes.

Your Maieſties moſt humble and faithfull ſubiect. Barnabe Googe.

B G POST. TRISTIA. LAETA

¶ To the right high and mightie Prince, Philip by the grace of God Lantgraue of Heſſe. &c. Thomas Naogeorgus his humble ſubiect wiſheth. &c.

THE BEVVTIFVLL LIGHT of the Goſpell (moſte vvorthy Prince) hath novve ſo manye yeares shyned, that not vnvvorthily, if it ſo had ſeemed good to God, it might haue dravvne all men to the loue and eſtimation thereof, & aſſvvaged the malice of the chiefeſt enimies, in ſuche ſort, as thoughe they could not find in their hearts to embrace it, yet at the leaſtvvyſe they shoulde forbeare from their vncharitable ſlaunders and cruell raylings. But bicauſe they onely doe beleeue (as vve reade in the Actes of the Apoſtles) that are before appoynted to ſaluation: So farre of are our aduerſaries from vvaxing more gentle, or any vvhitte forſaking their crueltie and reprochfull vvordes, as novv at length they poure out more boldely and diſpitefully the vileſt vvordes they can, not onely agaynſt the poore Preachers, but alſo agaynſt theyr doctrine, and the very Goſpell it ſelfe. For of late came there one abrode, (vvhoſe name I vvill not here declare) vvho taking occaſion of theſe laſt vvarres, vvith a foolish and ſlaunderous booke, cuttes in peeces, teares, chides, and vvith as yll reportes as may be, burdeneth as vvell the Princes, as ſubiectes, that bee fauorers of the Goſpell, and herevvithall (full vviſely) calles vs againe to Poperie, tearming vs Apoſtatas, and forſakers of our fayth. But ſurely he deſerueth no aunſvvere, as one that except raylinges hath vttered nothing: and his Booke that hee vvrote, ſeemes to be vvritten by a man ouerſeene vvith vvine, hauing no Methode therein, but a certaine diſordered heape of vvordes, and (as they ſay) a tale vvithout a head. Yet vvoulde I there should be ſome that should aunſvvere this ſlaunderer, not for his ſake, but for the vvorthineſſe of the religion that vve profeſſe: vvhereby hee might perceyue vvith vvhat rashneſſe, vngodlineſſe, and malepartneſſe he controlles and perſecutes the thing he doth not vnderſtande. For although vve are bound by the vvorde of God, to beare and diſſemble the iniuries and offences that are done vnto vs: yet ſuch things as belong vnto truth, the pure doctrine of the Goſpell, and ſo to the honour and glorie of God, vve ought by no meanes to diſſemble, but earneſtly both vvith vvordes and vvritings to fight agaynſt the enimies, as vvith great commendation did the auncient Doctors of the Churche, agaynſt the Heathen, and firſt planters of Heriſies: for theſe ſlaunderers, although of ſuch as ſufficiently knovve the truth, they be but laught at and deſpiſed, yet doe they infect, and not a little abuſe the vveake, and cauſe them to miſtruſt and think the vvorse of the religiō vve teach. Therefore eyther for the Doctrine it ſelfe, or elſe for the vveakelinges that haue but nevvly begonne to taſte the truth, the vvickedneſſe and malice of this defamer, in calling the goſpell that vve preach Turkish, and by other hatefull tearmes, is to be beaten dovvne and vtterly confuted. And here I can not but vvoonder vvith vvhat face hee can thus shameleſly behaue himſelfe, ſince it is vvell knovvn he neuer reade any booke of ours, vvhereby hee might rightly iudge of our fayth and religion, neyther is it reaſon for the fault and offence of ſome one Prince or ſubiect to giue iudgement vpon all. But I thinke he learned theſe ſlaūders, at the Sermōs of ſome bavvling Friers, or other venimous Papiſtes, vvho haue more care for their bellies, than for the truth, vvherby he thought to be accounted a great Clearke, for thundering out his rayling Rethoricke agaynſt vs, and thinkes it no little glorie, if vvith his fonde and ruffianly booke , he may not ouerthrovv (for ſo great his learning is not: and if it vvere the truth is inuincible) but like a flie or a gnat, ſting and bite vs, vvhome it pleaſeth him to call Lutherans. But I truſt there shall ſome man bee founde that shall aunſvvere the foole, as Salomon ſayth, according to his follye, leaſt he should ſeeme vviſe to himſelfe. I for my part, as vvell as leyſure vvoulde preſently ſerue, haue plainely and truely ſet forth the chiefe members of the Popish ſtate, their fayth, their cerimonies, and religion, though I paſſe ouer names: that euery man may ſee, vvhether they or vve come nearer to the ſteps of the Apoſtles, and vvhether they be Catholikes, or rather vve vvhom they ſo hate and perſecute as Heritikes. VVhat goodneſſe, vvhat true dealing, or vvhat thing agreeing vvith the Apoſtolike doctrine there is among theſe Papiſtes, I truelye can not ſee. On the other ſide it plaine appeareth, that our religion is ſuch, as the Papiſtes vvith all their indeuor, by faythfull vvitneſſe of Scriptures, yet hitherto coulde neuer bee able to ouerthrovv. VVhither than do they call vs? Doe they thinke that vve vvill forſake the truth, and follovve falshoode in ſo cleare a light? VVhy doe they call vs Apoſtatas? Is it a shame to forſake vngodlineſſe and Idolatrie, and other thinges both vaine and foolish? That this religion of theirs is none other, I intende ſo brieflye to shovve, that it maye appeare as in a Table, vvhereby our men maye pacientlier beare the iniuryes and reproches of theſe fellovves, in ſeeing from vvhat monſters by the doctrine of the Goſpell they are deliuered, and our aduerſaryes not beare their heades ſo loftie, and boaſt themſelues to bee the true Church of Chriſt, beholding the abuſes aſvvell of their life, as of their religion, diſcloſed & declared vnto all men. I therefore exhort our brethren, that they eſteeme as their greateſt glorie, the departing from the Pope, and as a ſinguler bleſſing of GOD, the knovvledge of the Goſpell. I exhort alſo and admonishe our aduerſaries, that they leaue of in time frō ſlaundering, not onely vs (vvho in reſpect are nothing) but rather the truth of God, and the Goſpell of Chriſt, and that they vveigh the matter vvith more diligence, and remooue a vvhile from their eyes the conſent of numbers of people, the aucthoritie of the Pope and his members, and the accuſtomed religion of a fevv hundred yeares: for theſe and ſuch other like are of no force in the confirming of truth, but are rather lettes and hinderaunces to the knovvledge thereof, and common to the inhabitantes of the vvhole vvorlde, vvho by antiquitie, continuaunce, aucthoritie of Kinges and Princes, and the generall conſent of people, are able to defende their ſuperſticious lavves. But other groundes of fayth and religion ought Chriſtians to haue, as the conſent of the Prophetes, and the Apoſtles, the authoritie of the holy Ghoſt, bearing vvitneſſe of our Lorde Ieſus Chriſt, as vvell in ſcriptures, as in the heartes of men. Theſe if they thorovvlye conſider, and vvithout parcialitie regarde, I doubt not but it shall come to paſſe, that clothing themſelues vvith Chriſtian shamefaſtneſſe, they shall amende and returne vnto more ſounder and ſurer doctrine. A great foolishneſſe it is to knovve vvhat is beſt, and to follovve the vvorſt, as many of our aduerſaryes for gaine, and their bellies ſake do. In the meane time, moſt excellēt Prince, great cauſe vve haue to reioyce of our ſelues, beholding in hovve great darkeneſſe, errors, deceyts, and vanities, our enimies vvalke: and to beſech God, that it may pleaſe him, to open their eyes and their mindes, that they may beholde the light of the Goſpell, by vvhich the quietneſſe of heart is onely obtayned, and that they may ſeeke for and enioy al things in Chriſt our alonely ſauiour. Hovve great a griefe it is to ſuch as trauaile to bee ignoraunt of their vvay, or taught amiſſe by ſome malicious guide, they vvell can tell that haue had experience thereof. Neyther doth it anye vvhit auaile to proue many vvayes, and yet to bee farre of from the right. VVhich commonly happeneth, as is vvell knovvne, to our enimies. For many vvayes they attempt, and trie, and carefully vvrest their mind hither and thither, to obtaine the forgiueneſſe of their ſinnes, and euerlaſting life. But euery man that is Godly doth ſee, that they ſtriue and trauaile in vaine, vvhen the only vvay vnto God is Chriſt,Iohn. 14. vvho is made vnto vs of God the father, vviſdome, righteouſneſſe, ſanctification,1. Corin. 1. and redemption, and there is no other name in the vvorlde giuen vnto men vvhereby they may bee ſaued,Actes. 4. but onely the name of our Lorde Ieſus Chriſt. This vvay bicauſe it is plaine, and not gainefull, the blinde and vvicked guides doe eyther craftily shunne, and leade men into thickets, or vvilderneſſes, vvhence they neuer can get out, or carie the poore creatures to craggie rocks, and breake neck mountaines. Beſides vve ought to account it no ſmall benifite of God, that vvee are deliuered from theſe fellovves, and that vvee vnderſtand their deuiſes and deceytes, vvhereby vve may continually bevvare of them. For this onely intent, haue I taken this vvorke in hand, that the truth and the brightneſſe of the Goſpell may the better shine out, by ſetting forth the contrary deuiſes, vvorspippings, ceremonies, and life of the Papiſtes, that euery man may take heede of theſe, and more earneſtly receyue, embrace, and vvith all their endeuor keepe and defende the other. And to you (moſt vvorthie prince) haue I dedicated this vvork for many reſpects, all vvhich to rehearſe vvere nedeleſſe. Your ſinguler and gracious fauour tovvards me, and liberalitie vvell beſeeming a prince deſerueth ſome greater matter, and more meete for your highneſſe But I knovv your grace is alvvayes vvoont more to eſteeme the minde of the giuer, than the gift: neyther did I minde to giue your grace this, as a recompence for your goodneſſe tovvardes me, (for that am I neuer able to doe) but onely to declare my ſelfe, not vnmindefull of your benifites. Moreouer, I thought it good to giue this booke vnto you as meeteſt before all other Princes, for your great and ſinguler trauaile in ſetting forth of the Goſpell, for the daungers and miſeries that you haue ſuſtained in defending of it, vvherin euen to captiuitie, and the great hazarde of your lyfe (from the vvhich I thanke God, and vvith all my heart reioyce, that you are at the length deliuered, and reſtored to the ſeat of your Progenitors) moſt valiantly ye haue ſtriuen: and alſo for the vvonderfull and Princely courage of your heart, in ſo many, ſo great and grieuous temptations, and conſtancie in keeping it. You shall here beholde vvhat things they bee (although you vvere not before ignoraunt of them) vnto the vvhich, though by ſundrie deuyſes aſſaulted, you coulde by no meanes bee brought. And on the other ſide aparantly, vvhat maner of religion it is that you furthered, hitherto defended, and by the mightie helpe of God retayned. Certaine there be that are ſeuere and vnmoueable in keeping their fayth heretofore deliuered them, as the Turkes, the Ievves, and ſuch others, but ſetled vpon no certaine ground, nor aucthoriſed by the vvitneſſe of any holy ſcriptures, but only by the inuentions and dreames of men. But ſuch conſtancie (or if I may ſo ſay) obſtinacy, is to be cōmended, that hath hir foundation vpon Gods vvord: and can by no meanes bee dravvne or forced to error and vngodlineſſe, for the vvhich the vvitneſſes of Chriſt haue alvvaies bene vvorthily prayſed. Therefore bicauſe I thought this little work vvould not be altogither vnpleaſaunt vnto you, I preſumed to dedicate it vnto your highneſſe, moſt humblie beſeeching you to beare vvith the ſimpleneſſe thereof, and to accept herein my vvell meaning minde, and to receyue me into your graces protection, vvhoſe long proſperitie, vvith the happie ſucceſſe of your moſt noble and renovvmed children, I earneſtly deſire God to preſerue.

From Baſill the .20. of Februarie. 1553.
The Popiſh Kingdome. The first Booke. THe ſtraunge diſguiſed ſhape, and faith, of popiſh prowde eſtate, The ſundry orders, and the dayes they yerely conſecrate Good Muſe declare, my force to weake, can not therto attaine: Ne can diſcloſe the myſteries, of ſuch a mateleſſe raigne. Oft haue we hearde the thundring fame, of Scythian ſceptor great, The Turkes eſtate, and of the Indians farther diſtant ſeat: The warlyke Parthyans powre beſide, and ſtately Perſian charge, And of the Romanes all men knowes, the auncient empire large. But theſe are nothing in reſpect, if any man doe way, The farre ſurmounting maieſtie, and powre of popiſh ſway: Whoſe Lordſhip lifteth vp it ſelfe, vnto the heauens hye, D. 22. omnes. And all the earth, whereon we dwell, to him doth ſubiect lye. And all the Deuils déepe in hell, at his decrées doe quake, So that the thréefolde engyn of the worlde he makes to ſhake. Nor vnaduiſedly we ſpeake, nor raſhly thereof fayne, The Pope himſelfe doth chalenge this, in wordes and writings playne. And luſtily he doth defende, the ſame with tooth and naile. Drawe neare therefore Calliopey, and let thy force preuaile. And thou Apollo graunt thyne ayde, great matters here I ſing, Whereof the fame, blowne forth abrode, all Europe makes to ring. Guide you my lately verſe begunne, by perfite path and plaine, Diſcloſe the ſecret myſteries, of this ſo ſacred raigne. For though it thorowly be knowne, and eaſily appéeres, To euery Wight, that here hath ſéene, the ende of thirtie yéeres. The yonger age yet knowes it not, ne children haue it ſéene, That haue bene taught, to treade the ſteppes, of Chriſts religion cléene. And what of our poſteritie, that many yéeres to come, Shall not attayne to knowe the fayth, nor toyes of ſtately Rome. Being many a hundred myles from thence, and dwelling farre away, This booke ſhall well inſtruct them than, and ſhew them halfe the play. If wormes doe not conſume it firſt, nor Marchauntes occupye It, for encloſing of their wares, that they farre hence doe bye: Our queſtion firſt, is, if from heauen this luſtie bloud doe ſpring, And whether thence he ſlipped downe, from that almightie King: Or rather from the Stygian flouds he rayſde himſelfe ſo hye, Created firſt by Sathan, and the ſpirites that damned lye, To be a plague to Chriſtian fayth, and vertuous famylie, To fill the worlde with troubles, broyles, and wretched miſerie? Such as are bent to ſearch the ſame, bring many cauſes ſtrong: And weightie arguments, and proues, the chiefeſt here among. They from the fruites doe firſt deriue, and long they féede their eies, To viewe the monſtrous ſhape, that doth from doubtfull parent riſe. It is not much amiſſe, if that we ſay, he came from hie: For Lucifer the Prince of pride, and all his companie, That now doe trouble all the worlde, from heauen downe did fall, At his commaundment, and his worde, that guides and gouernes all. From heauen eke fell out the floudde, that all the worlde did drowne: Beſides on Sodom, came from thence, both fire and brimſtome downe. What if ye monſtrous ſinnes of men, wherwith the world did ſwarme, Prouoked God to ſende this plague, for their deſerued harme. Men made but ſmall account of Chriſt, Gods worde eſteemed vayne, Eche heart was then peruerſely bent, and truth had in diſdayne. Fayth was not to be founde at all, ne loue coulde once be ſéene, And helliſh ſectes, had put to flight, the true religion cléene. Eche eare was then ſet open wide, to learne deuiſes mad, And ioyde to heare of teachers new, though they were neare ſo bad. No difference made, of right or wrong, none ſought the perfite way. But euery man with willing minde, did yéelde himſelfe a pray. What maruell was it now, if that the almightie gaue them vp, And ſuffred them to drinke their fill, of lying errors cup? Beſides, when all was huſht and ſtill, the chiefe, and learned ſort, Gaue ouer booke, and Pulpet quite, and gaue themſelues to ſport. Still woondering at the worldly pompe, and hunting after gaine. Eche one did ſéeke the others fall, with hatred and diſdaine, The ſtronger put the weake to worſe, with ayde of Princely might, Thus mallice touchte the high eſtates, who wondered at the ſpight, And muzde what madneſſe moude them thus, ye prieſtes & prelats great, Shoulde thus with ciuill warres, enuie eche one the others ſeat. Of theſe diſorders, lewde, and great, what iudge you ſhoulde appéere, But ſtoppes to ſounde religion and this preſent kingdome héere? While God th'offences puniſhed, of this diſtempered minde, And ouerwhelmde the idle heartes, with miſtes and darckneſſe blinde For both about one time began, the fonde religion vaine, Of Mahomet his fooliſh law, and eke the popiſh raigne. Two ſtubborne hornes to ouerthrowe, both fayth and vertuous minde, And for to drowne the doubtfull worlde, with vice, and errours blinde. For one thing, both of them we ſée, doe ſtriue for to attaine, Which is, that no remembrance might, of Ieſus Chriſt remaine. And that the ſearching out of truth, from men be pluckte away, That ſo in errors thicke and groſſe, they all may ſooner ſtray. Ne ſhalt thou much amiſſe affirme, if that thou doeſt declare, That God hath plaſte them in the worlde, as hornes that egall are. For this the Pope himſelfe preſumes, and plainely doth decrée, And as a Key of fayth doth will, that it beléeued bee. D. 21. In nouo. D. 22. omnes &, Sacro ſancta. But for the ſame we will not ſtriue, but eaſely giue him place, Yet neyther can the Pope nor ſuch, as him doe here imbrace, Denie but many things he hath, at Sathans handes béene tought, Which both in life and doctrine here, he oft hath lewdely wrought. But of this wondrous Empire great, the heade I now declare, Surnamed Pope, Pope. a name that once to thoſe that meaneſt weare Amongſt the Biſhops common was, till ſuch time as alone, The Romiſh Biſhop chalengde it, reſiſted then of none. What coulde they doe? now was he great, and to be fearde of all, Not onely through his earthly force, but powre celeſtiall. This Pope doth boaſt himſelfe to haue, the keyes of heauen gates, And braue in ſcutchin blaſeth them, that Kings and high eſtates, And common people bent to lyes, may know that none can clime To heauen, to be placed there, without his power deuine. Without his warraunt, or his graunt, for in his gift doth ly, The ſkies, and happie life, and whom he liſt he putteth by. And with a worde, he hoyſeth vp, vnto the ſtarry raigne, Euen whom he liſtes, and where him likes, he caſteth downe againe, Vnto the bottome deepe of hell, he byndes, and loſeth all, Euen as a perfect Marſhall of, the chiefe and higheſt hall. To great an Empire ſure is this, and dreadfull power to heare, Whereat great Dukes haue trembled, and Princes quakte for feare. Both noble men, and people poore, their countnaunce now let fall, When as they heard the name of Pope, and ſuch a power withall. For euery man accompted ſure, that after loſſe of life, They ſhould receyue eternall bliſſe, and heauen, voyde of ſtrife. But how poore wretches, may they now the heauens hope to win, When as the Pope doth kéepe the keyes, and wardes the comming in? Therefore of all men muſt he néedes, as God be worſhipped, Yea, no man ſought to haue the ayde of God himſelfe in dede. Nor minded his commaundements, his threates, nor promiſes, For why, the terrour of this Pope, eche minde did now diſtres, That God coulde haue no part thereof, who yet regardes not part, But chalengeth, as due to him, the whole of euery hart. We know full well, that Peter, and all ſuch of Peters minde, Receyue theſe heauenly keyes of Chriſt, and powre to loſe and binde. But in the goſpell lyes this power, and farther doth not reache, He ſhuttes, and cloſeth faſt the doores, that doth this goſpell preache, To ſuch as will not him beléeue, men beaſtly, voyde of ſhame, And eke to vertuous men and good, he openeth wide the ſame. Thus doth he binde the ſtubborne ſorte, and men of froward kinde, With goſpels force, and not by power, of his preſumptious minde. Farre otherwiſe the Pope doth worke, as well we may beholde, He preacheth not as Peter did, nor féedes the Chriſtian folde, Ne doth he trauell in the worde, with any learning pure, Con. D. 95. Esto. But countes himſelfe the guide of fayth, and life that ſhall endure. Which powre no God, nor man him gaue, yet ſo it hath bene wayde, That Emprours, Kings, and Dukes and all, haue him as God obayde. So much hath lewde perſwaſion done, from wreſted ſcriptures brought That for the entring heauen gates, and ioyes of all men ſought: D. 10. Quoniam. As ſubiect here the fayth he kept, and heart of all men helde, Except the Gréekes, that neuer woulde, ſuch honor to him yelde. For all the Italians, Spaniardes, and the French, their neighbours nie, The Scottes, the Engliſhe people, and the men of Germanie, Th'ungarians, Danes, and Norweyes both, Bohemians eke beſide And Irelande, Ruſſia, and Poland, with woodes and paſtures wide, In fine, wherſoeuer the Latine name, hath earſt bene blowne & ſpreade. Doe honour, feare, and worſhip eke, the Pope as chiefe and heade: And gyuer of eternall life, thus farre he rules the ſkies, And more he ſéekes: Greg. in Re. but on the earth he ſtill doth exerciſe All things that long to God, or man, appoynted by the higheſt, To be a factor here for God, and Vicar vnto Chriſt, D. 12. Non decet, & praecipius. 9. q. 3. aliorum contra. 1. q. 1. vt euidenter. Who euermore is preſent here, in power, and ſacred breath, The heade of that ſame ſpouſe, that he redéemed with his death, And waſhed with his precious bloud, from ſpots and wrinckles cléene. And is not this aduoultry now, and madneſſe plainely ſéene, To boaſt himſelfe to be the head, and guide an others wife? Who can abide this? Chriſt, that bought hir here, with loſſe of life? Yet ſayth he, Chriſt did leaue him here hir head, who payde this price, D. 22. omne &, Sacro ſancta. Thus ſhames he not to blinde the worlde, with falſhood and with vice. Moreouer leaſt that ſome ſhould ſpring, that might his powre deface, And both by ſcripture, worde and witte, depriue him of his grace, He warely layes the Byble vp,17. q. 4. nemini. 24. q. quoties, & Rogamus. and willes that none doe take It, otherwiſe than he himſelf, doth in his comment make. And with decrées he doth forbid, that none ſo hardie bée, As moude by loue of troth, or hate of falſhoode, for to ſée The ſacred leaues, or to expounde them, but as he doth teache, Nor priuately, nor openly, vnto the people preache, (Then he himſelfe alowes, nor none) may on the ſame depende, But ſuch as thereby builde his reigne, and doe his power commende. And thus againſt the ſcriptures force, he eaſily buildes his forte, Which ſcriptures ſhould be moſt of weight, amongſt the chriſtian ſorte. What helpe is now in arguments? what good can reaſon do? Or whereto ſerues the ſharpe deuiſe, that ſheddes and partes in two The troth from falſhoode? all are blinde, the Pope doth only ſee,9. q. 3. patet & cuncta, & nemo. D. 12. Si Romanorum. And learnings lawes, and reaſons good alonely iudgeth hée. With Princes, people, Doctors, and the ſolemne counſels hye, And whatſoeuer he decrées, muſt vnremoued lye, And be receyued as a lawe, whereof may no man doubt, But blyndefielde euery man muſt ake, whatſoeuer he ſettes out.17. q. 4. nemini D. 19. Sic omnes. And with an ill vnſauery taſte, muſt downe the throte be ſent, What he propoundes, decrees, or dreames, or what he doth inuent. And well he lookes to this, that none of him may iudgement giue, D. 40. Si p pa 9 q. 3 nemo &, Sequent. Nor of his life nor wicked déedes, how ill ſo euer he liue. Yea, though through his example lewde, he bringeth downe to hell, Great troopes of men that viciouſly, vpon the earth doe dwell. He may doe what him liſt and likes, and liueth here belowe, As one that neyther feareth man, nor any God doth knowe. His will for reaſon onely ſtandes, and for a lawe muſt go, Extra de conceſſ. pro. propoſuit. Extra de apellari. Vt debitus. 3. q. 6. Hoc quippe. C. de rei uend. li. 5.2. q. 6. Decreto Nor no man dare demaunde of him, why doſt thou ſo, or ſo: For why he can diſpence withall, and chaunge with euery man, Of right make wrong, and eke of wrong, make right againe he can. What lawfull is, vniuſt he makes, vniuſtice eke is right, And when it likes his holyneſſe, the Crow is alſo white. The order here of nature good, he turnes another way, And alters quite, what néedes more words, on earth he beares the ſway. He breaketh with his worde the bonde, of faithfull maried mates, And couples eke in mariage bed, the plaine forbidden ſtates. Gods holy lawes he alters quite, or taketh cleane from hence, Or wretchedly he wreſteth them, vnto ſome other ſence. No maruell then if that he deale with mans decrées ſo ill, Diſcharging ſubiectes from their othe, and placing whom he will. Permitting theft and robberie, ſo he may haue his ſhare, Beſtowing others goodes, and bearing ſuch as faithleſſe are. About his holy Aulters eke, he placeth in degrée, Such as haue falſely bene forſworne, and beaſtlyeſt men that bée. But theſe are trifles in effect, of eſtimation none, With him that holdes the heauenly keyes, and rules the worlde alone. D. 19. Sic omnes & Si Romanorum, & ſequentibus D. 11. Hoc veſtrae. For to the auncient ſcriptures old, and word of God deuine, Full lyke a prince he equall makes, his owne commaundments fine, And words that from his mouth procéedes, from mouth that can not lye Nor can deceyue, but doth ſupport, the truth moſt painefully. Wherfore it is both right and iuſt, that thus he doth perſwade, All ſuch as ſéeke for lyfe, to obey the lawes that he hath made. D. 11. Nolite 24. q. 1. Rog mus. D 11 Hoc veſtae. D. 19. Sic omnes. For what can be more true than thoſe? what can be thought or done? That ſhewes more beautifull, or doth in better order runne. What helpeth ſooner to attaine, the ioyes of happy life? By this we know who is our heade, and ender of all ſtrife. And who doth kéepe the glyſtering keyes, that opens heauen wide, What néede we ſéeke for other ayde, or other Chriſt beſide. Who ſuffred death and cruell payne, for our offences madde, And ſatiſfied his fathers wrath, which we deſerued hadde. Beſides into his hande he takes, the ſtate of Caeſar hie, That nothing in the worlde be founde, of any maieſtie. But he poſſeſſe and conquere it, and therefore doth he wright, Himſelfe as heyre apparent to the Empire here of right. Whereto he hath perſwaded Kinges, and men of eche degrée, Which wonderfull aboue the reſt, appéereth vnto mée. But all men with the name of God, he rules and threatens heare, And with the ſame ſo ſtops their mouthes, that none dare hiſſe for feare, Againſt that ſhameleſſe wicked face, ne bragges he thus alone, But vſeth his vſurped powre, deliuerde him of none. He maketh Kinges and giues the crowne, to ſuch as ſerue him beſt, D. 63. tibi. Whereby he gets him truſtie men, ſtill ready at his heſt. Who if they waxe vnruly ones, or happen to rebell, He plucks them from their kingdome ſtraite, & caſts them downe to hell, With dreadfull lightning ouerwhelmde, and doth diſcharge anone, Their ſubiectes from alegeance due, abſoluing euery one. If that they attempt with weapon to defende their realme and right, Then mooues he other Kings in haſte, and Princes for to fight, And forth he ſendes his proper bande, and all his force withall, So that although the Prince be ſtrong, he cannot match them all. If leauing warres they liſt to ſtriue, with writing openlye, And to commit their cauſe and right vnto ſome councell hye, In vaine it is no councell ſittes, without his owne conſent, Nor may giue ſentence otherwiſe, than after his intent. D. 17. Synodum. & nec licuit. And thus poore Prince no remedie, but yéelde he muſt at laſt, And aſke forgiueneſſe for his faultes, and his offences paſt. Moſt humbly bowing downe his knées, or falling on his face, And kiſſing though againſt his will, his féete for hope of grace. The ſtories tell that once there was, an Emprour great of might, Whoſe necke was ſtampt and trode vpon, by this deformed ſpright, And vſde with moſt diſpitefull wordes, whereby may plaine appere, What powre the Pope doth chalenge ouer Kings and nations here. That of the Church of Chriſt he is, not head nor Lorde alone, But of the vniuerſall worlde, and ſubiect vnto none. Wherefore ſuch Kings as wiſedome haue, doe heare, and nothing ſay: And dare not moue their lippes againſt the man that beares ſuch ſway. But are content to holde their peace, and iudge their hap moſt ſweete, If once they may attayne to come to kiſſe his holy féete. Ne woulde they doe this ſame to him that ſittes in Turkiſh feate, Nor to the mightieſt Prince on earth, though he were neuer ſo greate. And better were it ſure by much, a thouſande times to dye, Then that ſuch ſhame ſhoulde thus redownde vnto ſuch Princes hye. But as the Lorde of heauen and earth, this ſame to him they do, And whatſoeuer he commaundes, they ſtraight are readie to. If that he will them warres to make, than Armour out of hande They weare, and Cities ſtrong they ſacke, or ſpoyle ſome welthy lande. They pill, and powle, and quite deface, the faire and pleſaunt realmes, They waſte, they ranſack, & diſtaine, eche place with blouddy ſtreames. If that he bid them take the life, or caſt in dreadfull flame, The learnde, vnlearnd, the Lord, the meane, they ſtraight fulfill ye ſame. Ne thinke it lawfull for to ſpare their parentes in this caſe, Nor kinſemen nere, they burne and kill whereas it likes his grace. Although they know no cauſe thereof, nor haue not wayde it right, Yea though they know that it be naught, and onely came of ſpight. Yet his commaundments muſt be done, for thus the father will, Extra de offi. D. 96. Bene quidem & in ſcripturis. D. 10. Suſcipitis. And doth commaunde that euery lay man be contented ſtill With whatſoeuer he appoyntes, not aſking how nor whye, In things that touch the Church of Rome, but let the ſentence lye. Beſides the Courts of euery Prince, to him muſt ſubiect bée. If any happen to miſlike, that they may francke and frée Appeale vnto the Court of Rome. A wonderous powre and might In things that long to God and man to giue a iudgement right. But be not thou herein deceyude, for this as all the reſt Doth ſmell of gaine, which how he gettes he taketh for the beſt. So many things of Kings and Dukes and commons doth he gaine, They fréely graunting, ſince for that he giues the heauenly raigne. Faire Countries, Caſtles, Dukedomes, States & famous cities large, For bleſſed lyfe he doth receyue as things of little charge. For Biſhops often vſe the ayde, of Kings in trifles ſmall, But Kings & Dukes haue néede of Popes, to ſaue their ſoules withall. What cannot lewde perſwaſion doe, with cloake of godlineſſe? And more he hath decréede that ſuch, as doe his lawes tranſgreſſe, That all the reſt his enimies be, who cannot with this porte, Both Kings and Emprours ouerthrow, much more the poorer ſorte? D. 93. Si inimicus. Who would not feare the anger of, ſo great and blacke a traine? Therefore doe Kings full warely flye, and wiſely eke refraine, From ſpeaking euill of his grace, whatſoeuer hath bene donne, And farre from ſuch a God, and from his lightnings faſt they runne. Thus in the meane time lyues he ſafe, and frée from euery man, Since none he knowes may be his mate, nor none aboue him than, Nor any that dare with him ſtriue, or ſtoute againſt him ſtande, He enters league with Princes and with kinges of euery lande. With Cities and with people great, that liue at libertie, And able are to decke the fieldes, with luſtie cheualrie. In fine both wiſe and ware he is, in euery kinde of caſe, If all be ſtill, and bleſſed peace, doe reigne in euery place: Then ſtraite he ſtirres and moueth warres, and helps the ſtronger ſide, And will be ſure to gaine a fléece, whoſoeuer loſe beſide. Thus ſéeking his commoditie, with loſſe of others bloode, Sometime himſelfe to battell goeth, with fonde and frantike moode. His Gotiſh bearde long hanging downe, in ſhirte of mayle arayde. Safe ſhrowded in his Corſelet cloſe, all gilt and ouerlayde. Thus gliſtering all in armour braue, with ſpoyle and pillage rife, He cloſeth ſtately townes with trenche, and threatneth loſſe of life Vnto his foes, with cannon ſhot he battereth downe a pace, The loftie walles, or lying long doth cauſe them ſue for grace. And yelde for feare of famine vp, their townes and goods withall, Then puttes he whome he liſt to ſworde, for wordes and treſpaſſe ſmall. And ſo to Rome returneth ſtraite, his triumph with him ledde, Lo, thus vpon the earth doth liue, our chiefe and ſoueraigne hedde. Canſt thou declare a worthier wight, or more excelling grace? Then bring him forth, peruſe the time, and ſearche in euery place. Hence ſendes he downe his power into, the ſmokie pitte of hell, With charmes and ſolemne ceremonies, and dayes agréeing well. Where though he cannot cléerely loſe, the damned ſoules from chaynes Ne quench the furious firye flames, nor ceaſſe the raging paynes. Nor breake the ſwift ſtill turning whéeles, nor kill the dreadfull ſnakes, Yet with his voyce their torments all and gréeues more light he makes. So that the wretched ſoules haue eaſe, whilſt certayne howres laſt, Ne burnes the fire, nor gnawes the worme, nor turnes ye whéele ſo faſt. For if that Orpheus with his ſonges, Megaeras whip coulde ſtay, And ceaſe the byting of the wormes, and helliſh paines alay. Why ſhoulde the Pope not doe ſo much, the King of earth and skyes? Beſides, an other kinde of fire to purge he doth deuyſe, Whereas he raines himſelfe alone, and ſhowes his force and might. From hence he looſeth ſoules, and ſendes them to the heauens bright, With pardons, prayers, himnes and giftes, ne forceth much the ſame Although the ſoules thrée hundred yeares haue burnt in firie flame. If at the length ſome golden ſhowre doe happen for to fall, In little ſpace it driues him out, and makes an ende of all. Whole kinredes loſeth he with this, and kéepeth from the fyer, Whereas his fauour doth extend, and wheare he hath his hier. Himſelfe not Pluto can reſiſt, nor all his army blacke, Although they ſtriue with clawes to ſtay, or pluck with fleſhokes back His voyce makes all the fiendes afrayde, and from the bottom déepe, He hoyſeth vp the wéeping ſoules, in bleſſed ioyes to sléepe. What King, Apoſtle, Prophet elſe? coulde euer doe this feat, There neuer was, nor is, nor ſhall, be any power ſo great. Moreouer any Wight on earth, in robes he paſſeth cléene, If any time in maieſtie, he liſteth to be ſéene. With clothes of purple couerde quite, which long about him fall, With ſilke and crimſon ſhining bright, and cloth of golde withall, Beſet with precious ſtones and pearle, that coſtly India beares, Such as no Quéene of Egipt would, haue dronk or drawne from eares. Aboue all this his triple crowne, doth ſhine and gliſter bright, With beautie lyke of ſtones arayde, of ſtraunge and wondrous ſight. His Croſier then with double croſſe, all framde of fineſt golde, May here be ſéene, no ſiluer ſhew, may any man beholde. Except ſome ſolemne day require, I leaue out here among, His chiefeſt pompe, his ſtately traine, and garde in armour ſtrong. Their order eke, and how they ſtande, their cerimonies ſwéete, With bookes & bels their ieſture ſtraunge, with head wt hands & féete, Beſides a number of the lyke, which heare were long to tell. If that his welth, his pride, and pompe: thou haſt regarded well, And all his fonde condicions lewde, thou ſhalt not finde his mate On all the earth, that more doth ſéeke the ioyes of worldly ſtate. The earth is alſo holy thought, whereſoeuer his féete doe ſtande, And euery thing is holy made, that commeth néere his hande. Wherefore to Church he neuer goeth, but borne on ſhoulders hye, Euen as the ſacred Arke whereas, the Manna hidde doth lye. Ratio. diui O Lorde, that ſhame cannot compell theſe men to come away, And that they haue no feare of God, nor of the latter day. This is the ſhameleſſe forheade of that purple Hore vncleane, Wherby ſhe ſottes and mockes the worlde, without all ende or meane. Thou aſkſt parhaps what ſhift he makes, theſe chargis to maintaine, Demaunde no more, no Prince nor King, nor Emprour heare againe Hath ſo much ſiluer in his Cheſt, nor ſtore of golden ſommes, And of a welthie Peter eke, I know not whence he commes. He hath the whole inheritance, that large and brode doth ly, With Cities great, and fruitfull ſoyles, and portes and hauens by. Eke hath he Rome the Quéene and heade, of all the worlde before, So that a thouſande talentes yearely commeth in, or more. Beſides a greater ſomme he doth throughout the worlde receaue,600000. By ſelling heauen, and pardning faultes, and graunting powre & leaue, And by his Annates much he gettes, theſe termes themſelues do faine, Con. 1. q. 1. Quicquid ſtatuimus. Gratia. q. 3. Vendentes. Chn. D. 100. Nouit. Which wordes I heare am forcde to vſe, to ſhew their vſage plaine. The pelting Pals beſides doe get, and gayne him treaſures great, The Biſhops confirmation lyke, and welthy Abbots ſeat. What profite comes by Prebenders, when as with bribes they play Eche one to winne, where who giues moſt, goeth conquerour away. Yea certayne monthes he chuſeth out, and times in euerie yeare, Wherin an others due and right, to him belongeth cleare. What ſhoulde I euery thing declare, he falſely deales in all, And vpon euery morſell fatte, his crooked Talentes fall, And parte he takes in euery place, he huntes for money rounde Both heare amongſt the lyuing and ſuch as are brought to grounde. That ſo his cheſtes may ſtill be full, and Golde may alwayes flowe, Which vpon furious warres he doth, and houſes fayre beſtowe, In building Bridges, Temples, Towres, and coſtly Chappels fayre, In placeing of his kinſemen hie, in loftie Lordely chayre. In ryo , pleaſure, and diſporte, and ſumptuous banketings, That long to worldly Princes here, and other heathen Kings. Which repreſents ſome Perſes ſtoute, or Craeſus full of pride, And not like Chriſtes Apoſtles true, or any chriſtian guide. Deſirſt thou for to knowe his trade, and ſteps in liuing right, All full of pompe and glorie it is, and fooliſhe vaine delight. Such filthie actes I will not tell, as Fame doth true reporte, Leaſt that I ſtaine my verſe and booke, in lewde and filthy ſorte. But now regarde aduiſedly in all that hath béene tolde, If any thing Apoſtlelyke, or chriſtianlike doth holde. Or néere vnto that doctrine pure, that Chriſt himſelfe hath tought, Or that may holy counted be, or Catholike be thought. Nothing againſt the glorie more, of God thou canſt declare, Nor nothing that more filthie ſéemes, than this if we compare. Wherefore at this time many bée, that thinke and plainely ſaye, That Antichriſt poſſeſſeth Rome, and doth the Biſhop playe. Wherefore they from his name doe flye, and from his fonde decrées, His orders, doctrine, temples, and his ſolemne myſteries: None otherwiſe than from a Beare, or Lion in their way, And in the morning bleſſe themſelues, leaſt that they happe that day, To méete ſome ſhauen oyled beaſt, or elſe ſome other Grome, Belonging to the filthye Court, and popiſhe ſea of Rome. I maruell therefore why that men, ſhoulde call him by the name, Of holyeſt, ſince no man yet, coulde holy prooue the ſame. But rather naught. The place can not, nor yet his chiefe degrée, Nor all his ryches pompe or pride, can prooue him good to bée. Wherefore good Phaebus here declare, by Oracle deuine, And eke you learned Muſes all, this matter here define. Wherein this man ſhoulde here be thought, Apoſtolike to bée, D. 40. Non Loca. Ante omnia. Or holieſt calde, we know no cauſe, nor no deſart we ſée. And doe you ſmile? would you that we, ſhould know the collour dim, Of phraſe contrarie, and after that, in all things iudge of him? Thus of this preſent kingdome here, the goodly head I déeme, Thou well perceyuſt, but better ſhouldſt, if thou at Rome hadſt béene And any time continued there, and ſéene him face to face, Then ſhouldſt thou wel haue vewde thy ſelfe, his whole & comely grace The other pillors of this kingdome, now I will declare, That beare a ſway aboue the reſt, and chiefe and greateſt are. Such as this head createth and doth ioyne with him to guide, But full and whole authoritie, is vnto them denyde. The greateſt, and the chiefeſt are, those men that take their name, Cardinalles. Of Charnels that are fixed faſt, and beare the doore in frame. Bycauſe that on theſe holy hookes, theſe kingdomes gates doe ſtande, And that the care and cure thereof, they wholy take in hande. Out of this holy company the Pope himſelfe doth ſpring, And to no other doth belong, the choyſe of ſuch a King. The moſt of them are learned men, and borne of houſes good, Rational. diuinor. But fauour oftentimes of friendes, and highneſſe of their blood, Doth bring th' unlearned herevnto, and ſuch as are not wiſe. Theſe men if from their woonted ſtate, of life they did not riſe, Vnto ſuch honour great, perhaps they woulde be godly bent, And labour in the workes of Chriſt, with good and true intent. But as they be they neuer can, for honour ſpilles them quite, And makes them labour for to kéepe, this welthie raigne vpright. And by their oth they promiſe all, and fayth aſſured giue, This kingdome here withall their might, to maintaine whilſt they liue: And firſt that no pretence againſt the Pope permitted bée, Nor that he haue diſhonour here, nor loſſe of libertie. And ſecondly, that nothing of his kingdome here decay, Nor of his Lawes and ceremonies (though lewde) be pulde away. Thus ſafe through their defence and ayde, the Pope now feareth not, But ſafely kéepes that he hath long, with frawde and lying got: Theſe therefore as his councellors, and faythfull doth he take, Who rather will be péecemeale torne, than once their prince forſake. And theſe in meſſage doth he ſende, to Kinges and Princes greate, Whereby he may their councelles learne, and better worke his feate. Then dredfull warres he doth perſwade, or elſe ſome peace to take, Which he perceyues that beſt ſhall for his owne aduauntage make. Or elſe ſome fooliſh matter doth, he wrongfully defende, Or moueth them that heritikes, be brought to cruell ende, Or vnder colour falſe of Turkes, for ayde he labours long, Deuiſeth ſome attonements new, or breakes the friendſhip ſtrong. The people runne to méete them ſtraite, the councell doe reſorte, Sometime the Prince himſelfe doth go, but all the oyled ſorte With ſhauen pates doe forwarde marche, with loftie croſſe in ſite, The guydes and rulers of the ſchooles, all clad in ſurples white And downe they ducke with ſolemne chéere, and many a crooked knée, Beſéeching God to ſende them life, and long in health to bée. Thus with this iolly welcome here, theſe fathers forth are led. Who croſſe and bleſſe with fingers oft, as men aſtoniſhed To ſée the peoples fondeneſſe ſuch, they well themſelues doe know, They bring no good nor vertuous thing, yet prowd their port they ſhow And vſe the peoples fooliſhneſſe, thus forth in pompe they ride, In coſtly Crimſons all arayde, and Purple hattes beſide. A number great of men they bring, with Moyles and horſes fayre, In princely order furniſhed, and diuers of them ſpare. And euen at Rome this pompe is ſéene, and gorgeouſneſſe of life, Where fleſhly luſt and belly chéere, remayneth alwayes rife: The better to maintaine this ſtate, and charges of the ſame, And that they may be Cardnallike, and to their hed no ſhame, They choſen are of prelates ſuch, as welthieſt were before, Yet will not all this welth now ſerue, that earſt ſuffiſde and more. Their charges now are growne ſo great, their ſumptuouſneſſe is ſuch, Since firſt they attainde with gréedie minde, ye Cardnals hatte to touch. Of ſundrie fetches haue they néede, and lyke their Captaine fine, They muſt ſome kinde of wayes deuiſe, to frame a ſiluer mine. And this they doe ſome months when as, the Pope doth beare the ſway They ſeaſe vpon ſome Prebens fatte, as on a pleaſaunt pray. And Monkiſh Abbeys rich they etch, and take into their handes, They polle the Monkes and oftentimes, reſerue the chéefeſt landes. The hooke hangs out on euery ſide, to bring in greater gaine, Leaſt they ſhould lacke at any time, to furniſhe out their traine. Thou thinkſt perhaps they do ſome good, or ſtand ſome Realme in ſtedde Wherefore it is not much amiſſe, that thus they oft be ſpedde. Thou art deceyude no good there comes, from them to any wight, Except perhaps ſome one their friende, be brought in better plight. A hatefull burthen are they to the worlde, and people plaine, And Dranes that gréedily conſume, the fruites of others paine. They ſerue their chiefe, and for his ſtate, they ieoparde oft a ioynt, But as for any other man, they weye him not a poynt. If kingdomes great to ruine come, and people periſh quite, Or blood be ſpilt in euery place, they force it not a mite. They laugh and with a rowting noyſe, their gréefe they plaine diſcrye, But if themſelues a Fle but bite, with gaping iawes they crye. And God and man to witneſſe call, what torment and what paine, They ſuffer for the Church of God, and for the heauenly raine. Whereas in déede they nothing féele, for hir they neuer knewe, But for the Popes decrées and right, and honour to him due. They ready are to ſuffer harme, wherefore they wander wide, That thinke they weare their hattes of red, and purple garments ſide, Bicauſe that with the loſſe of bloud, the folde of Chriſt they kéepe. It is a lye, they meddle not, with Chriſt nor with his shéepe. They ſtriue for eaſe, and for their fathers falſe vſurped hedde, And ſometime for to come by welth, their tender bloud is ſhedde. Of ſuch he makes in euery realme if any there excell, And fauour things that longs to Rome, and are contented well, To ſtriue for them with learned bookes, with voyce with tongue & hand They thinke themſelues in paradice, and happieſt for to ſtand. While he regardes them not a whit, nor all their honour vaine, But looketh onely to himſelfe, and to his luſtie raigne. And riches here by helpe whereof, and wretched life beſide, He framed Rome the glaſſe of fayth, the ſampler and the guide. A guide in déede if that thou mindſte, to trauell vnto hell, D. 19. Enim vero. And to be ſhutte out from the place where God himſelfe doth dwell. Their office thus, thou haſt their lyfe, and all their fonde arayes, But ſéeſt thou ought Apoſtolike, or that deſerueth prayſe? Or taſteth any thing of Chriſt? is it bicauſe they ſtriue, In princely pleaſure to excell, the greateſt Prince aliue? Or that they kepe their ſtables ſtoarde, with Moyles and courſers •• ne, Or that they ſtately houſes builde, with waſte of golden mine? The Turkes that know not Chriſt a whitte, in this can doe aſwell, And well woulde laugh if they ſhoulde ſée, that ſuch as beare the ell Aboue the reſt, by whome the Church of Chriſt is guided heare, Shoulde thus beſtow their trauayle whole, about ſuch fooliſh geare. Now muſt we tell the Byſhoppes ſtate, and their diſguyſings ſée Such Biſhops namely as hath béene, with vs in Germanie. Biſhoppes. D. 84. Peruenit. D. 25. Primū D. 36. Qui. & Si quis. 12. q. 2. Gloria. 16. q. 1. Quoniam Con. 11. q. 1 Te quidem. &. 12. q. 1. Clericus. & ſequentibus. Con. D. 88. epiſcop. per latum. Con. D. 42. epiſcopus. Theſe ought of dutie to defende, the flocke of Chriſt, and féede, To giue example with their liues, and to be learnde in deede, In vertue and in godlineſſe, all other to excell, To ſée the poore and fatherleſſe, and Widowes ordred well, Lyke as the ſteppes of olde declare, and late decrées haue tought, But all things otherwiſe thou ſéeſt, and topſie turuie brought. Of Princes here the name they take, and dreadfull titles hye: They looke aloft, and vnto worldly things themſelues applye. Regarding not the worde of Paule, who byddes them this beware. Great townes they haue, and caſtles placed on Rockes that ſtately are, And Lordſhips riche in hande they holde, reuenewes great beſide, Which with the ſworde they ſafely kéepe, & with the ſworde they guide. Himſelfe vpon ſome loftie hill, in Caſtle ſtrong doth lye: Farre of from preaching of the worde of God, or peoples eye. Whereas he liſts he leades his lyfe, and lyke a Prince doth raigne, Appoynting for his deputies, vnlearned men and vaine, And graunting powre to buſſardes blinde, who ſpredde in euery place The counſels and decrées of Popes, and with ill fauoured grace, They bawle againſt all ſuch as put their truſt in Chriſt alone, And thinke themſelues redéemed by his death, and others none. While as this Prince and Biſhop here, all drownde in vaine delight, And ouerwhelmde in worldly cares, cannot regarde aright Th'affaires of Chriſt, nor if he woulde, he dares not buſie bée, Leſt that he ſhoulde be periurde ralde, and ſtaynde with hereſie: And from his ſtately ſeate be caſt, with great reproch and ſhame, By force of dreadfull oth conſtrainde, in all things here to frame Himſelfe according to the Pope, and to defende his hedde, His ſtately ſeate, his lawes, his fayth, and orders publiſhedde. And not a hearebred for to paſſe, the ſteppes of cuſtome olde, By which the holyest father hie, doth maintaine here and holde, His ſuperſticious vanities, his mockries and deceat, His foolyſh fayth and beaſtly lyfe, of ſhauen ſlouens great. And all his other gewgawes here, and trumpries on a heape, Of which within my other bookes, hereafter will I ſpeake. He knowes that lyes doth him ſuſtaine, and all his family, And nothing gainefuller vnto the oyled company: Then people kept in blindeneſſe ſtill, not knowing good nor right, But ready alwayes to beléeue, whatſoeuer they reſight. No Biſhop therefore ſworne, vnto the Pope dare once apply, Himſelfe to preache the worde of Chriſt, and doctrine perfitely: Nor for to ſhew the people plaine, the true vndoubted waye, Nor alter ſuperſticions, nor take ſome parte awaye. Although he know that many things, are horrible and naught: Ne will he ſuffer ſuch as woulde the people well haue taught. As late a reuerende Biſhop olde, began with vertuous minde, To breake the darckned miſtes of men, and path of Chriſt to finde: And ſaw what miſchiefe vnder face of holyneſſe was wrought, Tharchbiſhoppe of Coleyne. Wherefore diſordred things to bring, to better ſtate he thought, And diuers matters to amende, that cleane contrarie were To God, as worſhips, orders, and the guiſe of teaching here. This matter was no ſooner knowne, but ſtrayte the Monkiſh route, Their lying dartes began to throwe and all the clargie ſtoute, Put pen to booke, the ſchoolemen eke, a pace did ſharpe their ſtings, The Lawyers alſo ſought to knowe, the ſtate of diuers things. At length the matter came to Rome, before the Popiſh ſeat, Who ſeeing the harme might come thereby, and what deſtruction great Vnto his kingdome, calleth ſtrayte a councell to him néere, And cites the féeble aged man, from countrie farre to appéere. Whoſe cruell drift perceyuing hée, and knowing well beſide, Their lewde demeanours and deceytes, that earſt he oft had tride. And how they neuer coulde be brought, to good or ſober minde, His Biſhopricke he giueth vp, and honours all reſinde. This thing woulde no man here haue done, that had regarded more, This worldly pompe and pleaſures vaine, then Chriſt and chriſtian lore. For eche man feares the Popiſh force, and iudgement aye ſeuere, And moſt of all applies himſelfe, with care and trauaile here, In worde and déede to ſhew themſelues, good ſeruaunts for to be, Vnto the Pope, and furtherers of his ſupremacie. And he that giues his minde to this, how ſhould he any wayes, Aſſone deſerue the truth or ſéeke, of Chriſt the onely prayſe. When as he thinkes himſelfe not bounde, to God nor to his ſonne, For vnto them he hath not ſworne, as he before hath donne Vnto the Pope, nor thinkes to haue by them commoditie, What good vnto the people then, or where in profits he? That for to pleaſe doth teache vntruth, and ſtill defendeth it, And townes and Cities onely guides, and preacheth not a whit. Nor ſuffers others truth to teache, nor any thing at all, That to a Biſhop doth belong, but in his princely hall Doth leade a ſlouthfull eaſie lyfe? we know not perfectly, But wonderfull it ſeemeth ſure, that holyneſſe ſhould lye Within ſuch ydle drowſie ſhowes, for thus for to excell, In pleaſures, Cities fayre to builde, defende and furniſh well, Great horſe to kéepe, and many men, in liuerie riche arayde, To hunt and hawke, and looke aloft, and make poore men afrayde. The Turke and euery worldly Prince, as well as they doe this. Doſt thou ſuppoſe that this will ſerue, or elſe ſufficient is, That on ſome Holy dayes they ſerue the Lord in ſolemne guiſe, Therein doth paſſing pompe appeare, and hurlyburly riſe, And for the people goodly game, th'unſkilfull youth reſortes, And faſt with mazed mindes they runne, to ſée ſuch goodly ſportes. The Biſhop in the meane time is, apparelde gorgiouſly, And fouretéene ſundrie garments doth, he herein occupy, Without the which he cannot doe, his ſacrifice at all, Yea ſome muſt fiftéene on them haue, beſide their coſtly Pall. His Sandals firſt he putteth on, of ſilke or veluet new, And then his Amias and his Albe, that hangeth to his ſhew, Which doth in whiteneſſe paſſe the Swan, that in the riuer fléetes, A ſlender Gyrdle rounde about his loynes, embracing méetes. And eke about his necke a •• oale, doth rounde in compaſſe ſit, The greateſt part is wrought of ſilke, of length and largeneſſe fit, Which when vpon his bleſſed breſt, a croſſe is ouerlayde, It paſſeth downe and vnderneath his girdle faſt is ſtayde. Then puttes he on his Tunicle, of purple colour bright, And ouer that his Dalmatik, a ſhort ſléeude garment light. And then vpon his tender handes his Gloues he draweth on, And many a coſtly ſtone in Kinges he weareth therevpon. Then ouer all he puttes his Cope, a garment ſtraunge in ſight, Which lyke vnto the lothſome Tode behinde is ſhaped right. With croſſe depainted braue vpon, his backe and eke his breſt, And after this his napkins white, he ioyneth with the reſt. And rounde about his porkiſh necke, his Pall of paſſing price, He caſteth on, with hanging whoode, and knot of fine deuice. His forked Myter then he takes, with golde and ſtones arayde, From whence two labels hanging out, behinde are ouerlayde. Now laſt of all his Croſtar ſtaffe, in hande he holdes vpright, Whoſe crooked vpper part is deckt, with golde and Iewels bright. The reſt with ſiluer garniſht is, and plaited fine and neat, Leaſt it ſhould grieu his holy hands, with waight of mettall great. What God I ſay, or Sybyll then, what Moyſes euer tought, For to be clad with ſuch a pompe, and garments ſtraungly wrought? When long agone they left their bookes, and fréely had aſſinde, Ech blocke to preache, and Buſſards ſuch, as had none other minde: But onely for to éede themſelues, and that they weary were, Of ſuch things as belonge vnto, the Biſhops dutie here. And thinking ſhame for them to deale or meddle with the ſame, Addict themſelues to matters graue, and worldely workes prophane, Amidſt their pleaſaunt quietneſſe, theſe toyes they did deuiſe: To mocke th'amazed fooliſh worlde, and bleare the peoples eyes. That when they ſhoulde beholde them thus, with ſtones & golde beſet, And ſée them in their maſking cotes, with gorgeous grace to et: They ſhould account them wonderous men, ſent down frō heauens hie, Of whome they might eternall ioy and perdons dearely buie. And leaſt themſelues ſhould heare be thought to dote and wander wide, They doe declare by euery ſigne, what thing is ſignifide, As if they Moyſes veſtures were, and God had them aſſignde, And not the trifles fonde of men, and fancies of the minde. The Biſhops part is learning ſounde, into the Church to bring, And not the fooliſh ſignifyings, and ſhadowes of the thing, That doting heades haue earſt deuiſde, and fooliſh mindes of men: No golde, nor pompe, nor ſtraunge attire becomes this houſe or them. They ought not of the Church to make a Stage or Theatere, Nor for to pricke or prancke themſelues, in ſuch diſguiſed geare. But all the popiſh ſtate almoſt conſiſts in this degrée, Of trifles ſuch as thou thy ſelfe anone ſhalt plainely ſée. Thus armde at laſt with euerie péece the Biſhop commeth in, Aproching to the Altar hie, with countnaunce ferce and grim: Whome ſcarſe his weightie clothes permits, to drawe his breath at all, Or for to paſſe with any pace, or any moouing ſmall. But who is able then to ſhew the ieſture ſtraunge, and grace, And ſhuffling vp and downe of Clarkes, herein from place to place? With what a great ſolempnitie, he liftes his looke on hie? His Myter now he putteth of, and on immediatly, And at his hande there ſtandeth one with ſtill attentiue eyes, To put it on and of againe, according to the guiſe. Sometime he ſtandes, ſometime he ſittes, and ſwéetely oft doth kiſſe, His Altar, Chalice, Booke, and Glasse, encloſed here for this. Some whiles vpon the left ſide of the Altar doth he ſtande, And ſtraight from thence he fiſkes againe vnto the other hande. From thence vnto the midſt he goes, and once again away To the left ſide, then to the midſt, where endes at laſt the play. Sometime he muſing ſtandeth ſtill, as faſtned to the grounde, And mumbling with a ſecret voyce, himſelfe he turneth rounde. Now both his handes, a ſunder farre vpon the Alter lye, And ſtrayte wayes both togither ioynde, he liftes them vp on hye, And ſhortly ſpredeth them againe, and both he thruſteth forth, The one directly to the South, the other to the North. Now downe vpon the grounde he ſtares, and then he patters oft, And ſodenly he ſtarteth vp, and caſtes his eyes aloft. A thouſande Croſſes then he makes, and bleſſeth euery place, For feare leaſt that ſome ſawcie ſpirite his doings might diſgrace. None otherwiſe his Miniſters that rounde about him ſtande, Doe handle all their holy rightes, and alwayes are at hande, Who Cuſhions ſoft of Silke, whereon to lay his bookes, doe bring, And Frankenſcence in euery place, with Ce ſers ſwéete they fling, And Candeles, Croſſes, Banners, all they beare, and wayte vpon, And ſhoulders, bookes, and handes they kyſſe, and eke the Altar ſtone. One vp a lofte the patten holdes, encloſde in ſilken vayle, Who euer ſtandes, behinde his backe, to ſée what thing doth fayle. An other to the people turnde, in tune full ſtraunge doth crye, Such wordes as ſcarcely any there, knowes what he meanes thereby. Which chiefeſt is aboue the reaſt, the Biſhop all alone, Doth eate and drinke, and giues no parte, thereof to any one, Nor any ſéekes thereof to haue, ſo much theſe fellowes waye, Their high and holye myſteryes, that beare ſo great aſwaye. Of all theſe things what profite can there to the people riſe? They are but trumprye and deceytes, to daze the fooliſh eies. Yet is the ſame the greateſt thing, and holyeſt aye by much, Nor any better ſeruice hath the papacie then ſuch. What ſeekſt thou than? may theſe things faith, or godlineſſe be thought Hath euer them our mayſter chiefe commaunded, wilde, or tought? The ſcriptures reade, and looke what Chriſt, hath vs appoynted there, Go ſearch thappoſtles orders well, from firſt and fartheſt yere, Which in their actes and writings they vnto the worlde did leaue, Thou ſhalt no ſuch thing euer ſée, nor any like perceaue. Both Baptiſme and the Supper of the Lorde they euermore, Did purely in one ſorte obſerue, according to their lore: Ne playde the fooles with geſture ſtraunge, and fooliſh trifles vaine, Nor counterfeited Princes thus, with garde and ſtately traine. Yea ſome of them there are that when they to the aultar go, The Biſhop of Herbipolis. A ſworde before them caried is, and ſet before them ſo: That men may knowe that powre they haue, as well as Princes great To vſe the ſworde, and vpon lyfe to ſitte in iudgement ſeate, What maketh fury here? what doth the bloudy ſworde vpon, The aulter mylde, a place of peace? the holye roome whereon, The bleſſed ſacraments of peace, ought alwayes to be donne, There ſtandes a lofte the fearefull ſignes, of deadly warres begonne, And where the ſwéete forgiueneſſe of, our ſinnes we ought to haue,8. q. 1. Qui epiſcopatum. D. 36. Si quis. D. 84. peruenit. 2. q. 7 Non. omnes. D. 45. Quid autem. There ſtandes the Biſhop to reuenge, and threaten ſlaughters braue, A worthy thing to ioyne that doth, pertaine to God and man, How can they ſo? he ſhoulde be ſure, a worthy Biſhop than. If that he woulde behaue himſelfe, as olde decrées him teach, And leauing ſworde, and feates of warre, would giue himſelfe to preach I maruell they ſuppoſe that things, that thus contrarie bée, Shoulde ioyne in one, and that the Myter ſhould with ſworde agrée. As if of Moyſes and of Chriſt, one perſon they ſhould frame, Whereof the one drawes out the ſworde, and fiercely ſhakes the ſame. The other puttes it vp, and doth forbid all his to kill. The one appoynteth lawes ſeuere, and penalties at will, The other ſettes his frée from all, content but one to make, Releaſeth all offences here, and ſinnes away doth take. The one a Miniſter of death, a Prince reuenging rife, The other authour ſtill of peace, and gyuer here of life. But Anius long agone was both, a Prieſt and eke a King, In déede we are come to ſuch a paſſe, as now in euery thing, The orders of the Heathen vaine, and rytes we doe receaue, And folow all the fooliſhneſſe, that they to vs did leaue. Nay fonder thinges by much we fayne, then euer they coulde finde, At Chriſt they onely ſéeme to laugh, and count his wordes but winde. But whether paſſe I now my boundes? it was not mine intent, For to refell ech fooliſh thing, that ſhameleſſe Prieſtes inuent, But to reſite them here for ſuch, as knew them not before, Whereby they might delighted be, and laugh at them the more. Some ſorte there are that better lyke, in Princes courtes to looke, Then poorely for to preache of Chriſt, and pore vpon a booke. They commonly of counſaile are, the weightieſt things that bée, Are done by them: they Councellours are, and ſit in hie degrée. By whome the kingdomes moſt are rulde, in euery Parlament, They giue their voyce, and nothing paſſeth voyde of their conſent. They looke to vittayling of Campes, when bloudie warres doe raigne, Or take ſome matter ſuch in hande, as doth to Dukes pertaine. A wondrous thing it is that Kinges, theſe men ſo much doth néede, As if there were not of the laytie, ſkilfull men in déede: Whome good experience well hath taught, and who by learning can, Sufficiently deſerue the things, that long to God or man. Doe they deſire their doings ſhould, at Rome reported be, And nothing of their councell kept, at home in priuitie. But that vnto the holy father, ſtrayte it ſhould be borne, To whom they ſweare, who doth diſcharge ſuch as before haue ſworne? What hath the common welth beſide, to be aſurde of them, That they ſhall truſtie be, and with their counſayle helpe the realme? They neyther wyfe nor children haue, for whome they ſhould prepare And for their owne poſteritie, they haue no cauſe to care. Nor howſes of their owne they haue, nor any kinde of landes, But haue the fruites of other men, and toyle of ſtraungers handes. Being frée from care of any loſſe, yea though the ſkies ſhoulde fall, Or realmes, or people periſh quite, they take no hurt at all. They ſtrayte can out of goneſhot be, and farre from daunger lye, And ſafe from ſecret dennes they can, ſuch hurlyburlyes flye. O bleſſed happie courte whereas, no Biſhop euer is, It is no place for any ſuch, they are not calde to this. And therefore nothing proſpers well, that they doe vndertake, Their hapleſſe handes in euery thing, vnhappie worke doe make. To euery Biſhop chiefe there doth, belong a Suffragan, Suffragans. Which name I thinke Apollo ſcarſe, can tell from whence it came, But ſure I am his mayſters turne, he ſerues continually, He biſhops children, halowes aultars, and Church and Chappels by He bleſſeth all the Popiſh ſorte, and alwayes doth prouide, In euery pariſh oyled Prieſtes, the people for to guide. The thréefoulde oyle and water in, the Font he haloweth, And ſtones and fire and many ſuch, and belles he chriſteneth. Theſe Pageants euermore he makes, rewarded for his paine, Though not ſo much he get thereby, as Roſcius woont to gaine. This man doth buy ſome title for, a hundred Crownes or two, Of ſome olde ruinous Churche defaſte in Turkye long ago, Whereto he dare not once come néere, much leſſe to preache or teache, And ſhew himſelfe a Biſhop there, within his enimies reache. Yet falſely doth he ſweare that he, woulde ſhortly viſit it, And doe his duetie, if it be peace, and Turkes will him permit. But herein doth no daunger lye, he ment not ſuch a thing, To preache abrode, and wandring shéepe of Chriſt in folde to bring. But idleneſſe and ſlouthfull life, this onely ſéeketh hée, And therefore from his oth he is diſchargde at libertie. And whyther he liſt he may go walke, with title fonde and vaine, And labour for an other man, rewarded for his paine Are not theſe ſame right goodly things, and follyes great the while, And fooliſh fancyes and deceytes, that all the worlde beguile? Yet this good man is alſo ſworne at firſt full ſolemlie, For to defende the Popes decrees, and all his orders hie. If now at any time he preache, which if he ſhould not oft, He ſcarcely coulde maintaine himſelfe, nor come to looke aloft, He ſhewes how that he neyther ſéekes the glorie of Chriſt alone, Or peoples helth but onely how, ta'duaunce the Popiſh throne. Therfore its alwayes good ſuch ſworne companions to eſchue, For ſurely vnto both their mayſters, can they not be true, Eſpecially if they diſcent, and ſundrie things doe preache, As knowne it is the Pope and Chriſt, contrarie cleane doe teache. What if I here ſhoulde call to minde, the fooliſh partes he playes, When as he haloweth Churches or ſome ſolemne ſeruice ſayes? A matter long it is to tell, ſome parte therefore I will Declare: Democratus draw néere, here mayeſt thou laugh thy fill. All others voyded from the Church, that thus ſhall halowed be, The Sexten onely there remaynes, encloſed ſecretlie. The doores are ſhut and Tapers twelue, before the Croſſes light, Doe ſtande, and twelue within the Church, are euer burning bright, Himſelfe without the Biſhop ſtandes, with pompe, and prowde aray, And haloweth water firſt with ſalte, which pretie kinde of play, If from the Iewes or Gentiles firſt, it came I cannot tell, But Moyſes alwayes vſde the water as it came from Well. Then thriſe about the Church he walkes, and thriſe doth water caſt, Vpon the walles, and thriſe vpon the doore he knockes at laſt, With crooked ſtaffe, and of the Pſalme with dredfull voyce doth crye, Lift vp your gates, ſuppoſing that, ſix hundred Deuils doe lye Within the Church. The Sexten ſtrayte, for them doth anſwere make, With roaring voyce: what king is this, that thus doth on him take? And then as though the Deuils all, ſhoulde therewith giue him place, The Clarke vnbarring ſtrayte the gate, he enters in a pace, Accompanied with fewe that haply worthy are to ſee, Such myſteries: the reſt ſhut out, that ſo vnworthy bée. Then on the ſaintes he calles, and on the grounde doth ſtaring ſtande, And makes a croſſe with Aſhes ſtrawde, or if it lacke with ſande. Then Latine letters paintes he fayre, and great ilfauourdlye, And Hebrue woorſt of all by much, a tongue for them to hye. Forthwith he coniures water new, the firſt no more of might, With ſalte and wine and aſhes ſmall, and euery ſolemne right. To halowe there the Aultar hie, at laſt he ſetteth out, Twelue croſſes therevpon, annoynting it with oyle about. In this ſort euery aultar great, is halowed euermore, But holy water is alwayes one, among the things before. Then on ech corner of the altar, croſſes doth he ſette, With water drawne, and ſeauen times about it doth he iette. And ſeauen times vpon the table, ſprinckleth water clere, Then euery corner of the ſepulchre, is ſignde with croſſes here, (A foure ſquare hole this ſepulchre, amid the table is, Made out by Arte) and all with Chriſme annoynted, after this His reliques there he doth encloſe, and certaine franckenſcence, And of the table places fiue, with ſolemne reuerence: Hée doth annoynt not onely with oyle, but with his creame deuine, And laſt as children are confirmde, ſo doth he likewiſe ine, With croſſe & creame the aultars braue: are not theſe wondrous ſightes Are they not wondrous myſteries? theſe fonde and fooliſh rightes, The idleneſſe of learned men, that liued long ago, Brought forth, and eke their monſtrous pride, wherewith prouoked the, They much deſpiſde the common ſorte, and making them to gaze, They founde out firſt theſe fooliſh toyes, the ſimple eyes to daze. Lyke cerimonies doth he vse, while as he doth repayre, Giuing of orders. The ſhauen ſort and fine yong impes, doth plant in kingdome fayre, As euery one by name is calde, togither ſtande they theare, Clad all in Albes, for ſo they terme the veſture that they weare. The Biſhop doth demaunde if that they good and vertuous bée, And whether they are learnde and méete, to take this great degrée. The Officer doth aunſwere ſtrayte, with playne and open voyce, That learnde and worthy both they are, and men of perfite choyſe. Whom earſt before he neuer ſaw, nor of their names hath thought. Then ſtrayte vnto the Acoluth, from th'aultar downe is brought, A Candle and a Candleſticke, and here they doe reſight, How in the Church his office is, the Candles ſtill to light. And beare about, an emptie Cr ••• t put they in his handes, Wherewith to giue the Prieſt his wine, whilſt at his Maſſe he ſtandes Yet doth he it not, nor place there is where this is lookte vnto, Beſides eche lay man when he liſt, this holy thing may do. Yet for the ſame his crowne is ſhorne, and heare is cut away, Nor weare it in that place of length, he euer after may. The Coniurer receyues the booke, and is commaunded there, To learne the thinge conteynde therein, and well away to beare, And for to caſt out Deuils by, his powre and force deuine: He mindes it not, nor of the ſame doth euer ſée a line. For claſpt it is deliuerd him, and claſpt from thence againe, Vnto the aultar is it borne, whereas it doth remaine. He driues no Deuils out of men, nor dare the matter proue, So that this great authoritie, doth ſerue to no behoue. The reader then perhaps doth take the Teſtament in hande, To teach the people plaine the word of God to vnderſtande. He readeth not, nor h ble is ſometime, nor ſeekes to be, No certaine place appoynted is, nor howre him to ſe. The Dorekéeper inſtructed than, what things he ought o do, When as this office great of waight, he there doth come vnto. The Church doore keyes in hande he takes, and to the doore doth bere, A hempen rope with laughter great, of all that ſée him there. Hereby he lea nes his duetie is, to ſhut with diligence The doores, to kéepe the halowed things, and driue the wicked thence. Yet none of all the ſame he doth, nor ſuffered thus to ſtande, Yet is there ſturre as if there were ſome wondrous thing in hande, When as the new made Prieſtes cannot, their laughter here reſtraine But moſt of all the common ſorte, and fooliſh people vaine. What ſhould I ſpeake of all things now? I am aſhamed here, To weare my pen and ſpende the time, about ſuch fooliſh gere. For all their holyneſſe conſiſtes in veſtures and in bookes, And putting ſtoa es about their neckes, with lewde and apiſh lookes. On all their left handes euery one, a labell hangeth downe, The Prieſtes their fingers greaſe, ye Biſhops hāds, & thumbs & crowne. But here there is a great a doe, a waightie matter plaine, To ſée the oyntmentes drop not downe, nor on theyr heades remaine. Ech Prieſt with rubbing dryes his handes, and after that with ſande, Or aſhes ſkouring throughly cleane, ech finger of his hande. Then breade vnto the aultar from the Ouen whote is brought, And cut in ſundry ſippets ſmall, in order there is wrought. Which on the Biſhops greaſie pate, in ſolemne ſorte they lay, And thus dry vp the oyntment there, and take it cleane away. So carefull are they for theſe things, that are not worth a ſtrawe, That neuer an hower doe they leaue, for fayth and chriſtian lawe, When as they chriſten belles: that man hath ſure a braſen minde, That can forbeare to laugh and doth, not thinke them Aſſes blinde, Who grudgeth not with all his heart, that wickedneſſe of time, For gaine hath brought it vnto this, that that moſt bleſſed ſigne, Which ſhewes how we receyued are, as ſeruaunts here of Chriſt, And preſt to fight againſt the worlde, as ſouldiour of the higheſt, Shoulde with a ſenſeleſſe creature be, defilde before our face, With ſuch adde, and by a man of ſuch a ſolemne grace? The people rounde about reſorte, on euery ſide that bée Togither, mo de with one deſire, this wondrous ſight to ſée, And warned by the wardens of the Church before the day, The Godfathers are preſent in their beſt and chiefe aray. And ſome there are that ſo deſire, this honour for to haue, That of themſelues they chalenge it, and earneſtly doe craue. Of theſe the number is not ſmall, a hundred ſhalt thou ſée, Two hundred yea, thrée hundred if the bell ſo worthy bée. Then foorth at laſt the Biſhop comes in all his wonted geare, And praying faſt he halloweth firſt, with ſalt the water cleare. For without this he hath no powre, though in the day time bright, A number great of Tapers ſtande, aboute him alwayes light. When as he long hath prayed here, he willes them downe to fall, Vpon their knees and vnto God, to praye in generall, That he vouchſafe to graunt this bell, a happie chriſtendome, A luſtye ſounde to driue away the daungers all that come. Annoynted then it is in places ſuch as needefull bée, And where the Prieſt is pleaſde, for in all partes they not agrée. Then biddes he them declare the name, (for as they children name, So name they belles in euery poynt) and when he knowes the ſame, He poures on water luſtily, and thriſe he doth it wet, And then with holy Chriſme he doth, his croſſes thereon ſet Then ſtraytwayes therevpon he puttes, a lynnen Cryſome white, A veſture ſuch as children weare, when firſt they come to light. And now the Godfathers begin, to ſtirre about and toyle, To touch and plucke it vp a loft, from out the ſacred ſoyle. But with their handes they cannot all come néere it now by much, Therefore with ropes they hale and hoyſe, and ſo farre of doe touch: And thinke they haue done ſufficiently, then giftes they offer all, Vnto their chriſten daughter, golde, and ſiluer therewithall. Ech one woulde then ſéeme riche, and ſtriues the other to excell, Hangde vp in ſtéeple hie, they feaſt, and ioye that this ſame bell Hath thus receyude hir chriſtendome, and all that day throughout, They celebrate with drinke and playe, and daunſing rounde about, With vomiting, and oftentimes, with brawling and with fight, And wanton ieſtures herewithall, and ech vnſéemely ſight. What thing more fooliſh canſt thou tell, or haſt thou ſéene before, Of great and ſmall committed thus, and with religious lore? In fine regarde this Suffragan, in all his matters hie, What thing ſoeuer he doth, it may be laught at worthilie. For take from him hys ſprinckle, and his oyle, and ieſturs all, And that which in the Grecian tongue, they Criſma vſe to call: Thou haſt vnarmde him vtterly, and ſpoylde him of his grace, That now he is not worth a poynt, in any kinde of place. And as both Popes and Cardnalles with, their pompe and paſſing pride And welthy Biſhops fat, euen ſo, theſe kinde of men beſide, The Church of Chriſt full well may ſpare, with loſſe and damage ſmall For ſhame, and hurtes, and burdens are, they to the people all. Regarding onely this, that prayſe and glorie here aſſinde To Chriſt, in darckneſſe déepe to hide, and kéepe the people blinde. FINIS.
The popiſh Kingdome The .ij. Booke. PErchaunce you looke I ſhould declare, their Conſiſtories here, The warehouſe chiefe of all their fraude, & foule deceitfull gere. Conſiſtories. Whereas for money crooked things, are made direct and plaine And blacke is chaunged into white, and white to blacke againe. As pleaſeth him that fightes with Fées, and giues them golde at will. Such pregnaunt witte haue Doctors there, and ſuch the Proctors ſkill. Where gaynes grow not, with long delay, vntride there hanges ye caſe, And where the Sutor is but poore, and comes not of a pace. With giftes they doe begin to féele, and plye the caſe againe, And proſecute it then as long, as they ſée giftes remaine. Here iuſtice ſeldome time is ſéene, but ſuch as Plutos might Procures, for gold with weight and ſhew, weies down both law & right. By this they breake ſuch mariages, as Gods decrées doe knit, And ioyne againe in wicked ſorte, ſuch as are moſt vnfit: Without aduice of Parents had, contracted ſecretly, Or fautie for ſome other cauſe, or lewde infirmity. Oft times the cauſe requires ſuch filthy déedes and tales to tell, As chaſte and honeſt eares cannot, abide to harken well. Hereat they laugh a pace and wondrouſly themſelues delight That thou wouldſt ſwere they only ſought, wt this to chéere their ſpright If that the wife be founde to be, an harlot openly, And from hir huſbande, with ſome beaſtly knaue away doth fly, An other wife although the poore vnguiltie man deſire, He cannot haue though néedefull luſt, and houſholde it require. But is conſtraynde to ſéeke a hoore, in countryes farre to rome, With charges great and hindraunce of his buſineſſe at home. And after her in euery place, to aſke where ſhe hath ſtrayde, In Churches, markets, and in townes, to craue the Rulers ayde. Whom if he cannot finde, they graunt, with great ado and ſtrife, That he another woman take, but yet not as his wife. But if that after many yeares, the harlot come againe, And wearied with hir lewde companions, seeketh to remaine, At home, ſhe hath hir place although, the huſbande it denie, As loth to leaue the other for hir fruite and honeſtie. Theſe lawes no bookes of God doe teache, but toyes of mortall braine, And dreames of Popes wherewith the worlde, defiled doth remaine. Officialles. A member is there of this ſame, the polling Officiall, And no ſmall man he, is but one, that guides and ruleth all. Him muſt you pleaſe and alwayes bribe, and bring him money ſtill, If that you will your buſineſſe frame, according to your will. This fellow for the Biſhop holdes, and hurles the flaſhing flame, And troubles men when often times, no cauſe requires the ſame. Wherefore if any time thou hapſt, for to be cited here, Be ſure that when thou comſt thou doſt, ſome worthie preſent bere, And so thou ſhalt with ioye depart, and better ſatiſfide, By much then if thy cauſe were good, or lawes were on thy ſide. Who doth deny but money oft, corrupts the common place? But polſhorne Prieſtes excéedes them all, in any bribing caſe. This kingdome hath an endeleſſe pitte, whoſe dampes that dreadfull be Haue burſt abrode and drawne the wealth of all the world we ſée. The eger Kite ſo foloweth not the Chickens here with care, Ne luſtie Egle doth purſue, the faint and fearefull Hare, As doe theſe men hange out their nettes, abroade for gréedie gaine, And laye their baites in euery place, the ſimple ſort to traine. Cannons. But to the Cannons let vs come, who for the moſt parte all, Are Gentlemen deſcended from ſome olde and auncient hall. In olde time onely for ſuch men, as learned were and good, Though of the common ſorte they were, this place appoynted ſtood. Which men the people well coulde teache, and helpe in euery thing, And truly prea he the worde of God, and ſerue th'almightie king. But when that riches once had hatcht, Dame ydleneſſe with care, Nobilitie reſpe ting eaſe, and daintie Lordely fare, Put out the common ſorte, although they learnde and Godly were. And ſent them to leſſe holyneſſe, and to more painefull gere. Theſe men about their ſhoulders weare, the ſkinnes that hearie bée, Of beaſtes hangde rounde about with tayles, a proper thing to ſée. Sometime in mantels blacke they go, according to the time, As though they mournd, when as no griefe, their pleaſant hart doth pine. They muſe why they ſhould laught at be: who would not laugh to ſkorne Such fooliſh weedes, which if a man ſhould weare that were not ſhorne: The very boyes with rotten Egges, and durt woulde him beray , Or to Phiſition woulde his friendes, go ſende him where he maye Be purged of this humor madde, with pocions two or three, Theſe men ſuppoſe themſelues great folkes, and worſhipped to bee. They nothing haue to doe, but that to Church ſometime they come, Arayde in linnen wéedes & Cowles, with frowning countnance glome. Or in their Catſkin whoodes with tayles, and woonted ieſture prowde, Whereas their howres Canonicall, they chaunt and ſing alowde, And that alonely with their lippes not praying with their minde, This ſame is all their godly lyfe by which ſuch welth they finde. What profite they the people here, what gaines the Church hereby? Or may it not forbeare theſe men, aſwell as may the eye Forbeare the webbe and painefull pearle? and be aſwell without, As may the perfite foote remaine, without the féeble gout? What woulde they doe? how coulde they come, to be ſuch olly men, If Damaſſus the Pope of olde, had not deuiſed them? Their howres canonicall and eke, decréede with ſtatutes ſore, No Prieſt ſhould eate his breade at home, and take no paines therefore? They ſhoulde be mainetainde for their whoodes, and fooliſh fonde araye, And kept as ydle l •• bers ſtill, for paſtime and for playe. And in ſome places ſo they are, for (tender Sowles) they haue gotte, Leaſt yt with dayly ſinging they, ſhould ſtraine their ſtratcht out throtte Some other in their romes doe ſing, whom Quier men they call, Quier men. Theſe men for money doe diſpatch, the ſeauen howres and all, Though neuer a worde they vnderſtand, for gaine is all their cheare, Although it be but ſmall for which it is a wondrous worke to heare How ioyfully they ringe it out, and fill the Church with noyſe, How ech one ſtriues for to excell, the other with his voyce. Thou wouldſt ſuppoſe they all were dronke, or ſome rewarde thereby, For which they ſtriue with all their might, to get the victorie. By meanes of theſe the Cannons are, diſchargde of burden great, And ſcarce at howres, or maſſe they ſitte, thus ſilent in their ſeat. And onely hearers now they are: yea this doth ſéeme a paine, And labour great vnto theſe men, which ſcarcely they ſuſtaine. They rather chooſe to ſit by fyre, and talke and chat at will, Than for to dull their eares with Pſalmes, whereof they haue no ſkill. And ſauing on the holy dayes, the Church they come not at, For preſent there they money haue, and none but lyketh that. Yet ſcarcely can they tarie till, their money giuen bée, Which done, they go and leaue the Church, to ſuch as hired bée. Theſe are the toyles and trauayles great, for which of charitie, Great giftes they haue, fayre houſes buylde, and mayſters called be. Beſides at home they Parots kéepe, and Apes and Munckeys ſtore, And Haukes and Houndes with horſe, that well are furniſht euermore. And neuer ſéekes for to re •• raine, the pleaſures of their minde, A thing that common is almoſt, to all the Popiſh kinde. Beſides a people lewde there is, a hatefull ſorte withall, Curtiſans. Whome as I heare and vnderſtande, they Curtiſans doe call, Who running from their mayſters or, their parents in diſpite, Doe come to Rome all ragde and torne, in miſerable plite, And to ſome Cardnalles ſtable créepe, or to ſome Biſhop great, And kéepe their horſe, themſelues y while being almoſt ſtarued for meat: Till after many yeares, and many labours paſt and knowne, Their maiſters minde to help them there, though nothing wt their owne (For all the Popiſh court doth loue, ſuch ſeruaunts as doe liue, Without wages, and alwayes readier are to take than giue. They nothing count a thouſand Crownes to ſpende in pompe and pride And grudge their man a coate or cloake, n w halfe with colde deſtride. Such charitie is at Rome) therefore according to their guiſe, They make them Prieſtes, & after yt they haue taught them to be wiſe, They ſende them to their countrey ſtrayte, with Bulles and licence all, Whereas ſuch Prebendes now they take, as in ſome outhes doe fall. (But here they haue heddes alone, the Gripe doth not ſo ſwiftly ſnatche, The carcaſe vile, nor doth the fire, ſo ſoone the tinder catche, Nor Owle that in the day time here, doth happen for to ſing, With lothſome ſhape the wondring birdes, about hir flocking bring.) They are ſtraight at hand, and 〈◊〉 the mouth vnto the Pope aſſinde, And of their licences doe boaſt, with lo t 〈…〉 . Who ſo denies, is thratned ore, with law and cruell ſtrife, And court of Rome, where Popiſh ayde and fauour ſtill is rife. Who ſo will here to trouble bring himſelfe, and loſſe withall, Who ſo will waſt for Charters vaine, and ſmacke ſuch popiſh gall, And go to Rome about the cauſe, to ſeeke vncertayne ſhiftes, And thinke for to repeale the graunt, for money and for giftes, (When right hath no prerogatiue) this ſurely were the part Of one that had his purſe at will, or elſe a luſtie hart. The Patrone here amazed ſtandes, repyning ſecretly, To be depriued of his right, and take ſuch iniury. Such as are good and learnd giue place, and dare not here contend, With Monſters ſuch, nor go to Rome to trie the finall end. Yet are they not content with one, the value being great, But ſeaze vpon ſome other ſuch, with fraude and like deceat. Aſwell vnto their maiſters vſe, as to their owne behoue, That they may ſhew what thankfull minds they haue, & how they loue. Such preetie Begles haue theſe Biſhops ſtill in euery place, That hunt out Prebendes fatte for them, and follow freſh the chace. And ſome of them hereby augment their liuing verie much, And fill their Coffers many tymes by bringing in of ſuch. But reſident theſe Courtiers are, and many times there dwell, Sometime againe forſaking all, their benifice they ſell, And home to Rome they runne as faſt, and graunts they purchaſe new, Of Prebendes ſuch as other Monthes doe happen to be due. Sometime reſeruing nothing to themſelues, they ſecretly Do ſell and put them all away not fearing Symony. For lawes they wey not here a ruſhe, they care for nothing than, And no man feare, but rather fearde they are of euery man. In Rome they onely put their truſt, and for the place alone They think men muſt be fearde, & here they count themſelues at home. Some others get theſe Prebendes by a ſtraunge and wonderous way, Their grauntes obtaynde, and month well markde they chaunge their own aray. And coūterfeyt the countriman, or elſe ſome beggers ſtate, Till that the Church doore open ſtande, or elſe the Prebend gate, And on the aultare ſtreight they leape, eche man amazde to ſée, What monſtruous act ſhall there be ſhewed, or pageaunt played be. And tell the people there, that by the Popes aucthoritie, They holde the Prebend longing to that Church and aultar hie. Deſiring both the Patrone, and the people all and ſome, They trouble him not, nor raſhely deale, leaſt that they come to Rome. That of the Popes bequeſtes they there will thus poſſeſſion take, What would you more? the derie name doth make them all to quake. The Patrone ſtraight giues place, and he, to whome he ment the ſame, The Sea of Rome doth make them all to tremble at the name. They liſt not ſtriue ſo farre from home, nor would they cited bée, And both conſume their goodes and tyme with men of no degrée. Thus enter they into the houſe, as men that make no doubt, Commaunding ſuch as there doe dwell, to get them ſtraightwayes out. And to deliuer vp the keyes, according to their will, For ſhameleſſe fortune alwayes helpes ſuch luſtie fellowes ſtill. Perhaps thou thinkſt they learning haue, and can ſufficiently Both guide and teach, whereby the people haue no harme thereby. Thou art deceyude, but few are learnde. The greateſt part that bée, Scarce vnderſtand a learned worde, nor can their A.B.C. As men that late from rubbing of a horſes héeles are brought, And neuer came in companie where Grammer rules are taught. Some ſcarce doe know the vulgare ſpeach, nor can the peoples tongue, That all men hate them worthily, and both the olde and yong Doe curſſe the orders fonde of Rome, that thus deuiſed arre, As things that trouble all the worlde, and all eſtates doe marre. Parsons. There Parſons alſo are, that in the villages remaine, And in the townes, that iuſtly doe their offices obtaine. Some part of them are learnde and good, and ſome vnlearned bée, And farre vnméete for to attaine vnto ſo hie degrée. Their dutie is to preach vnto the people earneſtlye, And miniſter the ſacraments, and other matters hye. If any profite of the popiſhe ſort might come vnto The people, urely theſe were they that ſhould the matter do. Nor ſhould they ydlely liue at home, but muſt their bookes apply, Except they would be counted blinde, and laught at commonly. But ſince the Pope ſubuerted hath all right in generall, And hath with lothſome poyſon ſtuft and ſtaynde his members all: Theſe alſo teach no doctrine pure, but all with poyſon dreſt And mingled •• ill, which e •• ſt they drew and ſuc te from mothers breſt. As dreames and ſuperſtitio s great, and childiſhe ſeruice vaine, And many lewde vngodly things inuented all for gaine. They can not onely Chriſt regarde, while thus the matter ſtandes, Nor vnto heauen bring the ſoules committed to their handes. Them lettes the great reſpect to Rome, and eke the Pope their head, One of no ſmall account, a man of kings and princes dread. Beſides the great agréement of ſuch as in Pulpets ſpeake. A matter hard it is ſuch barres and ſtoppes of truth to breake: And for a man to ſtriue agaynſt his profite and his gaine, No miſchiefe without lucre is, nor ſuperſtition vaine. Wherefore it doth endure, and yet is kept vnto this day, With tooth and nayle in euery place, and maintainde euery way. So that the ſimple people get no kinde of good thereby, But nuſſeled from their youth by theſe, in vile Idolatry. What ſhould I tell you how they vſe their ſeruices deuine, With mans inuentions all defilde, corrupted with the tyme? And how they haue ſet out a booke full of ſuch filthineſſe, From which to treade an inch awry they count a wickedneſſe. Their doctrine and their dealings all, with filth defiled lye, And greater hurt the people take, than fruit or gaine thereby. For not alonely doth the Preacher here the worde declare Vntruly to the people, but oft leauing it, doth ſquare And ſpend the tyme about complaints and rayling openly If any haue defamed him, or haue not worthily Him honoured. If any haue their tythes not duly brought. In fine what wrong or iniury agaynſt the man is wrought: The Pulpet ſtreightwayes rings therof, and all the Church doth ſound Of raylings, and of ſpitefull wordes, his chiefe and greateſt ground. Amongſt them ſome there are that to the people doe foretell, If Springtime, Sommer, Harueſ , or the Winter happen well: What ſtore of Wheate ſhall be, and of the other courſer graine, How Maſt ſhall prooue, and how the Vine ſhall yéelde hir fruite againe. Beſides of warres and ſickneſſes, of plagues and other geare They tell, to which the people giue a more attentiue eare By much, then if he there ſhould ſpeake of Chriſt or godlineſſe, Of fayth, good workes, or of the lawe, and perfite holineſſe. Some tell againe the Turkes affayres, or of the Emp ours warres, Of Spaine, of Fraunce, of Venice, or of luſtie Myllanarres. And fill the peoples eares with this, till time be finiſhed, But moſt when of the Goſpell they yll fauouredly haue red. Some part where of their duetie were to ſee the people taught, And to expound it openly: then in the dead are brought, And beadroll long recited is, of euery bodyes name For which they are payde, ſuppoſing thus to ſcape the fayned flame. Lo this their doctrine is, and this is all the care they haue, In ſeruing of th'almightie Lorde, whoſe ſeruice they depraue. Then out of hand to Maſſe they go, and dine in heathniſh wiſe, That is not hauing fayth, content with olde accuſtomde guiſe. When dinners done, to th'alehouſe ſtreight they go as merry as Pyes, And tipple with their neighbours there, or elſe ſome ſport deuyes. To paſſe the tyme with Cardes and dice, or with ſome wanton talke, Whereas a note aboue them all, their tongue doth alwayes walke. Theſe alſo ſhould diſpatch their houres and ſeruice orderly, Which they let paſſe, except they ſée ſome worthie company Abrode into the fieldes they walke themſelues for to diſport, And viewe the corne or heare ſome tales, to make the tyme more ſhort. And leaſt the nightes ſhould ſeeme to long, eche one at home doth kéepe, A pleaſaunt Dame that in his armes all night doth ſwéetely ſléepe. Lo thus they ſpend their time, and on this ſort doe alwayes liue. The holy Ghoſt vnto th'elect true godlineſſe muſt giue. And euen in their dying houre muſt Chriſt to them diſcloſe, The meane that ſa de our fathers long ago as I ſuppoſe: Whereby they wonderouſly eſcapde the darkneſſe that was then: For ſurely none ſhall ſaued be, by meanes of theſe ſame men. Monkes. Tell on good Muſes for the ſwarmes of Monkes doe yet remaine, And not the meaneſt members of this ſame moſt holy raigne. Theſe men forſaking cleane the worlde, and lothing all things heare Attyre themſelues in ſtraunge aray, and certaine colours weare. And frame themſelues a rule to liue, and follow euerychone, As if ſo be the rule of Chriſt ſufficed not alone. And with their thréefolde ſolemne owes 〈◊〉 the townes they go, Or to ſome deſart place 〈…〉 of 〈◊〉 people tho. And by their proper force they thinke vnto the Skies to clime, And ſcape the euerlaſting chaynes of death for deadly crime. Whereby they ſhewe the wickedneſſe that in their heart doth lie, And how they wey not Chriſt nor yet his famous victorie. Moreouer to their owne good workes they arrogantly cleaue, And of their merites great they vaunt the people to deceaue. And notably they haue deceyude, not onely ſimple men, With their hypocriſie, but alſo kings, perſwading them To buy their merites and deſartes of price and value great, And how they ſhould be ſure to ſaue their ſoules, and haue a ſeat Aboue the Starres, if they would builde them gorgious houſes hie, And giue them landes to féede their paunch, and fat themſelues, wherby They might conſume their dayes and ſpend their life at eaſe, and well, And ſtriue the Dormowſes themſelues in ſléeping to excell. For what thing elſe doe they regarde, or euer doe applie? The little children in the ſtréetes theſe things can teſtifie. They vaunt how that they worſhip God, and ſeruice dayly ſing, And how they pray and often faſt (an acceptable thing.) Who doth not wonder at theſe things, and at theſe trauayles tolde, And thinke them worthie of ſuch welth and Dukedoms here to holde. As many kings haue giuen them, and Dukes in elder dayes? A goodly kinde of worſhip ſure, and much deſeruing prayſe. While as they chaunt vp Pſalmes aloude, whereof they haue no ſkill, And pray with lips and not with heart, and Church with noyſes fill. Nor other mens afflictions nowe they way that thus haue ſped, Who will ſuppoſe that they can care that thus in dreames are ded? Therefore they are no prayers at all, but voyces lewde and vaine, As when the hungrie hogs doe grunt that in the ſ ie remaine. But often doe they faſt, and fleſhe and whitmeates bothforbeare, So alwayes vſed to daintie faire, they count it faſting heare. If that two meales they doe not eate the ſhorteſt dayes that bée, And be not ſerued at ſupper with the daintieſt meates they ſée. Such monſtrous dinners doe they make, that fulneſſe doth compell, Their girdles for to let at large whiles as their bellies ſwell, Like Horſeleaches or lothſome Tickes, that ſwell with filthie blood, Great fiſhes doe they heare deuour, who can prepare ſo good A meale of fleſhe, or will deſire with egges for to be fed, While as the Table with ſuch ſtore of fiſhe is furniſhed? Beſides with pleaſant Wines they fill themſelues, and qua •• e amaine, Till red about the gilles they looke, and belch it vp againe. That this may faſting called be, both Milo will denie, And eke Apitius, he that was the Prince of gluttonie, And all the Catian ſchoole, and eke the troupe of Iewes beſide, And of the verie Turkes themſelues, it will be ſure denide. Theſe men yet with hypocriſie, and cloke of holineſſe, Haue brought the people, Kings, and Dukes, vnto ſuch fooliſhneſſe, That they ſuppoſde them chaſt and good, and farre from worldly men In all their déedes, and bought good workes, and heauen eke of them. O ſtrong illuſions, and deceytes, O miſerable tyde, That brought theſe men, as if there were not ylles ynough beſyde. But wherefore ſhould they leaue the worlde, and flie from companie, And hide themſelues in Forreſtes thus, and in the deſartes lie? Bicauſe it is corrupted quite, and bent to wicked lore? Who doth denie? But therefore hath it néede a great deale more To haue Phiſitions ſtill at hande, that good and faythfull bée, And able are for euery ſore to giue a remedie. And not ſuch fellowes as will runne away for lothſomneſſe: And ſhaken with the feuer, leaue his pacient in diſtreſſe. In darkeneſſe liues? More néedeth it the light of holy men, As Chriſt ſometyme did lighten it, and his Diſciples then. Or doe they thinke that they ſhall ſtaine their lyfe with companie, Where they may leade a Godly life, and well themſelues applie? No flight can this procure, but fayth and vertuous pacient minde, That can reſiſt the raging ſtormes of any bluſtring winde. Daniel that dwelt at Babylon, and many Iewes beſide, Whoſe mindes were alwayes godly bent, and faythfull oft were tride, Amidſt the Gentiles godly liude, and ſerued God arightes: So Loth did likewiſe leade his life among the Sodomites. And Ioſeph ruled Egypt well, obſeruing euery iotte Of Moyſes lawe, and chaſtly kept his minde from any ſpotte. For if they alter not their mindes, that ouer Seas do runne, No woodes nor wilderneſſe ſhall cauſe this ſame for to be donne. But rather ſhall they more infect, and worſer much ſhall ſtaine The mindes of men addicted thus, to fonde traditions vaine. The ſpirit there oppreſſed is, ne can they lift their eyes Aloft to viewe the way that leades directly to the ſkyes. Beſides more worldly mindes they haue, and of more wanton chere, Than worldly men. Nought in the world is done, but Monks are there. If that the Counſell for the common welth aſſembled bée, They are preſent there, and giue out lawes by their aucthoritée. In warres they be, on Princes campes they euermore attende, And townes of force and Caſtles ſtrong, with weapons they defende: If any wedding great be had, they are preſent ſtill at hande, If any Church be dedicate, they preſent there do ſtande. Then hath the Comedy all hir partes. What ſhould I here reſight Their ryot, pompe, and paſſing pride, and all their fonde delight, Which doth declare their wicked mind? what helpes their ſtraūge aray, And crowne ſhorne downe vnto their eares, and houſes from the way? Since that of Monkes the worlde may learne, a worldly life to frame, And ſo is forced, and hath no meanes for to eſchewe the ſame. It gladly would, and ſeeketh oft, of them for to be rid, But faſt as Burres to wooll they ſticke, or Sowtars waxe in thrid. If they themſelues would ſhun the world, & far from thence would flie, And in the froſen Northren partes, would altogither lie, A better thing to pleaſe the worlde, they neuer could inuent, Nor any thing deuiſe that would the people more content. But now regarde their threefolde vowes, how yll they do agrée, And in their life how lewdly they vnméete obſerued bée. They vowe t'obbay their Abbot, or their Prior placed hie, Which Abbot if he vertuous be, and godlyneſſe applie, (As ſeldome haps) and doe commaunde ſuch things as God doth will, Why ſhould he not obeyed be, and had in honour ſtill? We all are bound that at the Font receyue our Chriſtendome, To heare ſuch men as truly teach the trade of life to come. No vowes we néede, or ſhauen crownes ſuch men for to obay, Nor for to chaunge our clothing here, to ſtraunge and fonde aray. But if he neyther godly be, nor godlineſſe doe teach, But fooliſh fanſies of his owne, and mans decrées doe preach: Then is it ſure a wickedneſſe, to vowe or to obay. Such as in bondage bring the heart, and teach to runne aſtray. Their whole religion doth conſiſt in ſinging day and night, In rules of life and ſundrie lawes and geſtures fonde and light. As if that God ſuch worſhip likde, deuiſde by mortall braine, Or rather had not plainely taught that all ſuch ſtuffe is vaine. But wherefore ſtand I herevpon, and wordes in vaine beſtowe? Since all the popiſh kingdome here no better things do knowe? All men are bound to chaſtitie, but for to ſhunne the ſtate Of bleſſed mariage, and the bed that is immaculate, We then ſhall be of force when as no luſt in vs doth raigne, And when no raging heate of fleſh, doth force our féeble braine. But nowe howe chaſt they liue, the boyes in euery ſtréete can tell, And Citizens are ſore afrayde, when nere to them they dwell. What ſhould I other things declare, that honeſt eares and chaſt, Could not abide to heare, nor of ſuch lothſome things to taſt? Why boaſt they ſo of pouertie, doth vertue herein lie? Can none but poore men godly liue, and vp to heauen flie? When as the poore man hath as many lettes in liuing well, As hath the richeſt man aliue, that others doe excell. But pouertie they fowly ſcorne, and ſhamefully deride, Aſwell in Lordly fare, as in their pompe and paſſing pride. And in their vowes and wicked life, they plainly doe expreſſe, That neyther God nor man they wey, nor any vertuouſneſſe. What if I ſhould their ſundrie ſortes the better this to ſée, Vnknowne to men t'is infinit, and eke a vanitie. So many ſundrie ſects there are, that differ onely heare In rules, and ceremonies fonde, and wearing of their geare. In this they all do iumpe agrée, their Popiſhe trifles vaine, And rules of him that firſt deuiſde in order them to traine. To ſet before the will of Chriſt and through their owne deſartes, They thinke to ſcape the pitte of hell, and all thoſe painefull ſmartes. But preſently I will deuide them altogither héere, Into two onely ſortes, that ſo they plainely may appéere. Rich Monks. To ſuch as riche and welthie are, and ſuch as beggers bée, Appoynted by their rules to begge, and by the Popes decrée. Thoſe welthie are, whom long ago ſome mightie Princes handes, Or Noble man hath graunted here, reuenues great, and landes, Large fieldes, with medowes fayre, & townes, & parks, & purlues large, With vineyardes great, and villages, and Caſtels ſtrong of charge, And Earledomes oftentimes for them did carefully prouide, And gaue them Lordely liberties, and Dukedomes whole beſide, That throw their praiers & lewd deſarts, they might their ſoules releue And purge themſelues of euery crime, that did their conſcience greue. That for theſe ſame theſe giftes were giuen, and this was all their care, The grauntes of Dukes, and Princes great, at this day doe declare. Perſwaded were they that the bliſſe, and ioyes of heauen hie, In merites of this Monkiſh ſorte, and Popiſh powre did lye. This madneſſe long ago poſſeſt the worlde when as did ſit, Amidſt the Church prowde Antichriſt, and rulde and gouernde it. What néede theſe Monkes ſuch riches great? themſelues to puniſh here With faſting oft and penurie, and ſimple ſlender chere? And to attaine humilitie, in minde and outwarde ſhowe, Still mourning (as they boaſt) the ſinnes, that in the world doe flowe? Far otherwiſe falles out the caſe, their Founders ſhould haue knowne, They puniſh here their fleſh vntill with fatte they are ouergrowne, Wherto their fained faſtings tende, none hath more merrie minde, Than haue theſe ſame, nor prowder ſhalt thou any people finde. The pleaſures of the worlde, they all did hunt and ſeeke alwaye, For looke where any valleyes was, where goodly medowes laye, Through which ſome pleaſant Riuer ranne, or goodly ſtreame did paſſe That ſtoarde with diuers daintie fiſhe, and full of Creuis was, Encompaſt rounde about with woodes, and fruitfull hilles beſide, Whereas they vineyardes great might haue, or ſtore of corne prouide, Here commonly they plaſte themſelues. What man ſo much doth raue, As woulde in ſmokie Cities dwell, and may ſuch pleaſures haue? Yet theſe they deſart places calde, whereas in paines and ſtrife, Theſe poore afflicted fathers purgde th'offences of their life. Beſides in houſes fayre they might, with any Prince compare, Whoſe loftye walles with largeſt motes, encompaſt alwayes ware With parkes, and pleaſaunt chaſes fayre, adioyning to the ſame, Empalde and trenched rounde about, and ſtored well with game. There ſtandes the ſtately Towres aloft, and dredfull ſhot within, Or deckt with curious furniture to feaſt and banquet in. In euery place the Counduites runne, within continually, And gardens here with pleaſaunt herbes, and flowers furniſht ly. With Cloyſters ſquare, and arbours that procure a pleaſaunt ſhade. In fine it ſéemes a paradice, ſuch as th'almightie made, Great heardes of cattell they poſſeſſe, and ſeruauntes many one, And officers of high degrée, attending them vpon. Great ſtore of pondes abrode they haue, that commonly they may, Suffice to furniſh out with fiſhe, their tables euery day, Not farre remooued from their walles, their pleaſaunt Orchardes bée, Such as doe paſſe and farre ſurmount, all others in degree. Thus hunt they after worldly ioyes, and after pleaſures fiſh And haue obtainde ech ſwéete delight, that earthly men can wiſh. Of ſléepe they also haue their fill, aſwell by day as night, Yea in the day time are they wilde to ſléepe and reaſt theyr ſpright. Leſt to much watching dry them vp, and paleneſſe ſtaine their face, And leaſt their bodies doe decay, and loſe their luſtie grace. But here a matter great they make, at midnight that they riſe, To mumble vp their Pſalmes and prayers, with ſenceleſſe eares & eyes Not weying what a ſort of men, that poore and néedie be, Doe laboure all the day long in the heate with miſerie, And in the night can take no reſt, for children there that lye, And fill their eares with wrawling all the night, and tedious crye. Their bookes they nought regarde at all, yet learning ſtill and ſchooles, Are worthyly committed to theſe groſſe and doltiſh fooles. Abbottes. The order of ſaint Benet and Ciſtercian company, Haue euermore an Abbot great, who ſetting nothing by The life and title of a Monke, their order doth deteſt, And better likes the head to be, and Prince of all the reſt. And ſure in pompe and loftie looke, he is not farre behinde The worldly Prince, reſeruing this, yet ſecret ſtill in minde: That farre beyonde them doth he go, in lecherous delight, For maydens yong he doth deflowre, and ſpendeth all the night, In wanton daunces playes and ſportes, with quaffing and exceſſe, And haunteth alwayes company, addict to ydleneſſe. A mad and lothſome ſight it is, the ſhapes that diſagrée. To ioyne in one, and knit togither things that diffring bée. As if the heade of dogge or Bull vpon a ſhéepe did ſtande, So ill agrées togither knit a Monke and Prince in hande. And ſure I muſe and woonder much, the worlde coulde euer beare, To ſée ſo foule a monſter as this ſame miſhaped heare. But wonders alwayes likes the worlde, and nothing can be wrought, So fooliſhly nor any thing, ſo wicked can be brought, But that the worlde will it eſtéeme, and woonder for to ſée, Wherefore let it enioye them ſtill, and worſhip them for mée. I to my matter will returne: this Abbot euermore, With weapons feares his neighbours next, and battailes fierce & ſore He often giues, and doth reioyce, great tumultes ſtill to ſée, No lowly thing he doth deſire, ſpeake, doe, or yet decrée. But looke what that he takes in hande, he rageth at the ſame, As Cacus breathing out the ſparkes of fires and fiery flame. What rule of Benet teacheth this? I ſurely thinke, bicauſe That Benet did forbid his flocke by ſtrayte and curious lawes, That on the Bible none of them ſhould reade, or ſcripture know, Whence ſéede of hereſie doth ſpring, and errors all doe grow. Leaſt they ſhoulde ſlouthfull be, or ſpende their life in ydleneſſe, Amid their loftie ſwelling ſtate, and wonderfull exceſſe. Their gréedie handes and mindes they whole applide to worldly things, Whereof they ſhortly had ſuch ſkill, that they like Dukes and Kings, Prouided lawes for common weales, and ciuill ſtatutes made, Lo, in this ſort they shonde the world, and fled from worldly trade, And gotte themſelues to wilderneſſe, where onely they tooke paine, To ſerue the Lorde continually, and heauen for to gaine. But ſhauen crownes here néeded not, nor greaſie Cowles beſide, Since that the worlde did neuer want ſufficient men to guide. Their practiſes and all their pranckes, of their vnruly raine, Their manors, vertues, and their life, in euery place are plaine. All things are lawfull vnto them, and are diſpenſt withall, So thou beléeueſt not on Chriſt, nor on his name doſt call. But now the begging ſort of ſundrie names and orders vaine, Mendicanter. In townes and Cities alwayes dwell, as lyeth for their gaine. Where firſt by begging they haue built, them ſumptuous houſes ſtrōg, Well furniſhed of euery thing, that thereto doth belong, That thou wouldſt meruaile how theſe beggers purſes, emptie ſtill, Could in ſo few yeares builde ſuch neaſtes, and get ſuch things at will. But with their often faſting ſtill, they wrought this ſubtill ſleight, With dayly prayers, ſeruice long, and merites great of weight. The newneſſe of their ſect confirmde, did ſtand them aye in ſtead, Their ieſture ſtraunge, hypocriſie, and ducking with the head: Their earneſtneſſe in teaching ſtill, and déepe diſſembling chere, Their eloquence, and filed tongue, and grauitie ſeuere: That men did thinke ech thing was well beſtowed, and happily, That giuen was vnto ſo good and holy company. Beſides their common merchandiſe, their frawde, and falſhoode great, Did helpe them well, they promiſed in heauen happie ſeat, And parte of all their merites here, to ſuch as willing were, To helpe them here with any thing, their order to preferre. This brought the fiſhe a pace to nette, this poyſon bayted hooke, Made giftes come in, beguilde a number, and moſt of them they tooke. By this ſuch buildings braue they made, in euery towne almoſt, By this ſuch goodly furniture they had in euery coſt, From this procéedes their princely fare, for faſters farre vnméete: They truſting to this marchandiſe, doe ſwarme in euery ſtréete, And houſe by houſe abroade they runne, with bolde and ſhameleſſe face, And begge, but chiefely in the towne doth ſtande their greateſt grace. No mariage is ſolemnized, nor great aſſembly had, No feaſt is made in any place, but ſtrayte theſe beggers mad With Boxes ſtande about the borde, and impudently than, They craue and aſke, like lothſome flyes moleſting euery man. At ſupper none in quiet ſittes, nor can their dinner take, But in they come, and both their handes and eares they wéery make. When holy times of faſting fall, and people feared bée, With bitter lawes and threatned ſore, with ſharpe and ſowre decrée, Than they continually doe vaunt, of faſting and deſartes, And of their prayers that procéedes from hote and holy hartes. Then rowling in comes all the gaines, of ſuch as doe not faſt, Nor chaunge one whit their former life, nor ſinfull vſage paſt. Theſe buy the meaſure great of all their merites euerychone, Suppoſing that the Lorde aboue will neuer looke vpon Their wickedneſſe, but fauour them, and all their faultes forgiue, If that they ſend the Fryers wine, and ſtore of ſaltfiſh giue: Or féede them oft with daintie meates, or coſtly dinners make, Such as the Prieſts of Mars were woont continually to take. Beſides in welthy villages, they finde a wondrous gaine, Where chéeſe and flaxe, and rootes they get, and euery kinde of graine. With porke, and puddings, ſouſe and brawne, and bacon flitches great, Which who denies is threatned with, Saint Antonies raging heat. And more to powle the ſimple ſorte, and to beguile withall, They néedles, pointes, and glaſſes giue, and other trifles ſmall. Theſe things although vnhoneſt they, and lewde and filthie be, Yet count they them for vertues great, and ſignes of ſanctitie. Such wickedneſſe the Papacie, doth euermore eſtéeme, And makes of euery Deuill God, contrarily to ſéeme. And Deuils eke of God they make, as euery foole may ſée, In all their doctrine fayth and rytes, what euer they decrée. But yet aboue the reaſt I doe the wiſeſt count thoſe ſame, That begging rounde about the worlde with tytle fayre and name, Haue growne in little time to wealth, and treaſures infinite, Haue purchaſt vineyardes, landes, and rents, and houſes fayre in fight. With Graunges great, and pleaſant Farmes, & droues of cattell ſtore, That now no néede they haue to begge, nor aſke for any more. Yea loth they are to haue the names of beggers in degrée. So abby lubber lyke they liue, and Lordes they called bée, The earneſt zeale of making warres vpon the Turkiſh ſect, And care of looking vnto thoſe, whom ſickneſſe did infect, Was fauorde firſt of Germans much, who made Collections great, Whereby they well in euery place, might exerciſe this feate. What woulde you more? all men to this with willing hartes did paye. Now when the treaſure gatherd was, the ſicke neglected laye. And no prouiſion did they make, nor any meanes inuent: For to reléeue th'afflicted ſort, whome ſickeneſſe did torment. If warres were to be made vpon the Turkes at any time, Their pillowes ſoft they lift not leaue, nor ſlouthfull life reſigne. So did the reſt whoſe names in verſe, cannot be all expreaſt, So hath this wretched kinde of men in little time encreaſt. But worſer now by much are thoſe, who though they welthie bée, And landes and riches great poſſeſſe, like Princes in degrée. Yet leaue they not their cuſtome olde, to begge in euery place: So ſwéete a thing doth begging ſéeme, and of ſo goodly grace. There be ſuch as their orders doth continually conſtraine, To begge abrode: and ſuch as ſtill in pouertie remaine. Who neyther landes nor liuing haue, of all the reſt the wurſt, And ſuch as are more troubleſome, of euery man accurſt. With theſe the Pope hath much diſpenſt, when once he vnderſtood, They were for his commoditie, and for his purpoſe good, By whome he might in euery Realme, be highly had in price, And vtter all his wicked wares, and filthie marchandice: And ſurely herein haue they éemde, full thankefull for to be, As chiefe maintainers of his ſtate, and princely dignitie. For all his doctrine haue they learnde, and fayth at fingers endes, And whatſoeuer likes the Pope, ech one of them defendes. Nor for this kingdome ſwéete they any lyes refuſe to faine, And ſo they may the ſame aduaunce, no labour great nor paine. By lande and ſeas abrode they roame, and here and there doe flye, To howſes great of noble men, and mightie Princes hye. In euery place they ſuffred are to preache and teache about, And Biſhops none doth them forbid, nor perſon kéepes them out, Whereby they may their kingdome much, enlarge and amplifie, According to their earneſt zeale, and dayly induſtrie. For why they ſée that vnderneath their ſhaddow they are fed, And that their ſtate by meanes of them, is well eſtabliſhed. They ſée while as the Papacie, doth ſpring and floriſh here, Their order euer ſhall encreaſe, and happie life appere. And contrarie all things decaye, and ſtaruing ſtrayte at hande, If that his holyneſſe ſhoulde ſlippe, or not vprightly ſtande. Therefore both for themſelues and for the Pope with toth and nayle, They toyle & moyle leaſt that his ſtate, by talke of tongue ſhould quaile. Therefore the inquiſition is, to them alone aſſinde, For to inquire of heriſies, in euery caſe and kinde. Among the which the greateſt and of daunger moſt of all, Are thoſe which preſently doe ſéeme, for to procure their fall If any man deny the Pope, for to be ſupreme hed, And chiefeſt guider of the church, by Chriſt eſtabliſhed: If any ſay that man cannot by worke deſerue the ſkies, And euerlaſting life, but that in Chriſt it onely lyes, Or if that any man affirme, the polſhorne ſorte to be, A hurtefull kinde of wéede and plant of no commoditie, That onely doth deceyue the worlde, with toyes, and trifles daine, And manifeſt hypocriſie, of troth the enmies plaine: Lyke dogges in raging moode on ſuch, with bloudie mouth they fall, And vexe and perſecute them ſtill, in bandes and priſon thrall. And if at length they will not turne, they caſt them into flame, The rabble all of Popiſhe rout reioyſing at the ſame. And whom they cannot handle thus, nor deale ſo ill withall, At them with hatefull tongue they hiſſe, and curriſhly doe bawle, And with vnlearned fooliſh bookes, and ſlaundrous doe they bite, And thinke to make them hatefull in the common peoples ſite. Theſe men if that they ſtroue for Chriſt, they would not begge at all, Ne ſhoulde ſuch ignoraunce of truth, vpon the people fall. But with the Popiſh kingdome truth can neuer well agrée, Of falſhoode it is framde, and without falſhoode cannot bée. Wherefore it deadly hates all thoſe, that mutter here of Chriſt, And ſéeke by truth to pleaſe the Lorde, and to content the higheſt. And vſeth theſe as inſtrumentes, the knowledge to oppreſſe Of Chriſt: and for to driue away all perfite godlyneſſe. And not alonely in this caſe, this kingdome they mainetaine: No Primate, Prince, nor king there is, but one of this ſame traine. He to his ghoſtly father takes, to whome he doth confeſſe, The ſecrets of his heart, and all his ſinnes and wickedneſſe. The which for ſundrie endes is to this kingdome profitable, For by this practiſe, and theſe meanes, he euermore is able To traine the Primates as him liſt, but chiefely to defende, The Popiſh ſea, and to reſiſt, all ſuch as doe contende. Who if they ſtackering chaunce to ſtande, and wauering doubtfully: Then with their ſinnes they feare them ſore, and pardon doe denie. Then which no thing more dreadfull is, nor hurtfull to the blinde, By this beſides hys holyneſſe doth vnderſtande the minde And purpoſes of euery Prince, that hereby ſpéedily He may preuent eche great miſhap, if ought ſhould runne awry. Beſides if that the Pope would faine, haue money in ſome place, Or any luſty Cardinall, or Biſhops Lordly grace: That may not well redéeme his Pall, the pardons out be ſent, And theſe be they that chiefely ſerue, to further his intent. Nor in the worlde there lyueth not, a kinde of men more méete, To worke deceytes and to bring in, both Golde and ſiluer ſwéete. Lyke Bulles they roare and voyde of ſhame, they vtter falſhoods vaine, And boldly ſtriue, and Sathan vp, they lift to Starres againe. Of Flyes they able are to make, great Eliphants in ſight, And popiſhe ſtate for to aduaunce, aboue the heauens bright. I thinke there are no kinde of men, that profitabler bée, Or more in vſe, for to aduaunce the Popes authoritée. By them the common people haue, beléeude ſuch ſhamefull lies, And haue beſtowde their goodes, and all their wealth on vanities: Suppoſ ng heauen for to buie, and holy mens deſartes, And euerlaſting life to haue, allotted to their partes. The others well enricht with ſpoyle, doe laugh and get them hence, And to their Lordes with praiſe doe bring, their Caſkets ſtuft wt pence. I here declare not all their déedes, nor their deuiſes lewde: What ſhameleſſe ſhiftes they here haue made, what filthye lyfe they ſhewde: What fowle example here they gaue, of life abhominable, So that it euen did offend themſelues the Roomiſh rable. That nothing (may be ſayde) there is, but Cowles dare take in hande: If in their fanſie once it come, or with their minde doe ſtande. I rowe with light and ſlender Ores, and not with raging winde, Nor for to clenſe the durty ſincke, of Augae is my minde. Yet here thou haſt a little ſhewe, of all this Empire great, And ſéeſt the members chiefe that doe, belong to Popiſhe ſeat. Whereby thou wiſelye mayeſt diſcerne, the others all that bée, For both in lyfe and fayth they all, doe wonderouſly agrée. So that I am ſure thou ſhalt not finde amongſt them any thing, That doth beſéeme the flocke of Chriſt, or may to vertue bring. But ſtrong illuſions and deceytes, and euery curſed kinde Of couetouſneſſe, with careleſſe life, and blouddy beaſtly minde. And pompe, and pleaſures great with pride, and ſuperſtitions vaine, And fonde attire, with ydleneſſe, the Princeſſe of their reigne. That where the worde of God doth reigne, and Chriſt is cléerely taught Theſe people dayly doe decreaſe, and ſhortly come to naught. And both the beggers, and the riche, are forced hence to flie, As peſtilences to the ſayth, and ſpringes of Hereſie. As ſlouthfull paunches great, vnto the earth a thriftleſſe lode, Whom long agone did Italie ſende out in coaſtes abrode. And ſpewde them into Germanie, as mother of all yll, And ſuch hir madneſſe is, that ſhe newe ſectes inuenteth ſtill. For lately ſent ſhe certaine out, of Ieſus bearing name, Calde for belike of luſtie Lordes, that lykde the popiſh game. That with the name of ſuch renowme, they eaſily might deceaue, The rude and ſimple people, that are ſoone procurde to cleaue. As though they ſought the honor here of Chriſt, and worſhip beſt The impes of Sathan, are they ſure, no better than the reſt. For all agaynſt our Sauiour Chriſt, are ſworne aſſuredly, Both Monkes and ſhauen Sophiſters, the ſuperſticious Frie. For fauour and good will, that they doe beare vnto the Pope, So that of any goodneſſe here, in them there is no hope. Theſe here and there runne vp and downe, with double diligence, To benifite the Deuill, and the Pope: and with pretence For to ſuppreſſe the Goſpell here of Chriſt, and eke his name, That lately drawne from darkneſſe great, abrode doth freſhly flame. But Chriſt ſhall ſhortly them ſuppreſſe, with all the rifra •• e here, His enimies with Maieſtie, when as he ſhall appéere. Nowe as they ſomething ſpeciall haue, ſo haue they eke againe, A number that are common all among this greaſie traine. Common things. By which they couet to be knowne, and others to excell, With Heathniſh ambition, wherewith as yet they ſwell. From which they neyther can be drawne, by ſcorne of people made, Nor any ſéemelyneſſe of ſtate, nor comelineſſe of trade. And firſt their crownes are ſhauen all as longeth to their grée, And looke as more religious and holier they bée, So broder doe they ſhaue their crownes, almoſt vnto their eares, That ſcarce an ynchebrode hoope of heare, about their pate appeares. This fanſie fonde no Iewes them taught, nor yet is publiſhed: What fooliſh people in the worlde woulde thus deforme their hed, And vnconſtrainde, the beautie ſpoyle, that comes of nature ſo: Nor thinke it faire with ſhauen ſcence, amongſt th'unſha de to go. Sure no man euer ſawe the founders of our fayth ſo ſhorne, No ſuch thing they commaunded here, ſo full of ſhame and ſcorne. The ſlouthfull ſort long after them, found out this fooliſh guiſe, And ydleneſſe, as all the reſt, this miſchiefe did deuiſe. But yet I maruell much, that they are not aſhamde hereat, And how they dare in companie, put of their cap or hat. But hie and holy myſteries they ſay are ſignifide, And thus they ſéeke a filthie thing with honeſt cloke to hide. Themſelues they count as kings to be, of paſſing great renowne, And thus to ſhewe their dignitie, they weare a ſhauen crowne. What dreames will not theſe doltes deuiſe, that dare in open ſight, Such things affirme? but ſtill to mocke the world they had delight. They alſo all annoynted are, euen from the Parſon ſmall, Annoynted. And pooreſt Prieſt, vnto the beſt that rules and gouernes all. Obſeruing ſtill the Iewiſh lawe and rytes determined, That by the Teſtament of Chriſt are quite aboliſhed. But all things that they did, were then commaunded to be done: As figures for to teſtifie that Chriſt ſhould ſhortly come. Theſe vſe their owne aucthoritie, as pleaſeth beſt their minde. As if that Chriſt were not yet come, or chiefeſt prieſt aſſignde. Thus doe they all annoynt themſelues, and all their companie, Both when they take their Chriſtendome, and at the tyme they die Annoynted are the Churches walles, and aultars oyled lye, And eke the braſen Belles that bray aloft in ſtéeple hye. They alſo Princes doe annoynt, when that they crowned are, And Moyſes people plaine they be, and yet from Moyſes farre. Without commaundement of God, or Chriſtes commiſſion plaine, In euery thing they follow ſtill the fanſies of their braine. Which afterwardes reputed are for holy things and great, Whereby in eſtimation more may grow the popiſh ſeat. Beſides Egiptian like they all in Surpleſſe white do go, Or like the Iewiſh Prieſtes, Surpleſſe wear •• s. that were by law commaunded ſo To weare a linnen Ephod on, ſo doe they alwayes weare, A linnen veſture wondrous white, and pleated here and there. Without the which, they neuer doe into the Pulpet come, Nor ſeruice ſay, nor any thing that in the Church is done. The ſame alſo they doe commaunde the Pariſh Clarkes to weare, And euery ſcholemaiſter muſt be apparelde with this geare. And euery ſcholler yong, that firſt doth enter into ſcholes: Thus are the people dolted ſtill, and fooles are made of fooles. For whereto ſerues the Surpleſſe here? it neyther kéepes out colde, Nor hath th'apoſtles warrant ſure, nor Chriſtes with it to holde. Nor worne hath any comelineſſe, but rather doth diſguiſe: As if a lay man clad therewith, before the peoples eyes Should trauaile by the way, he ſhould be ſcornde or beaten yll, Or for a mad man bound in Chaynes, and broken of his wyll. But here I muſe that Monkes doe not, this linnen garment trie, But this I take to be the cauſe, that Monkes ſufficientlie Are laught at for their fonde array, and fowle ynough they bée, Whereby they from the common ſort doe aptly diſagrée. Or that their clothes more holy are, than any others worne, And blacke is méeter farre than white, for ſuch as ſéeme to morne. In garments long they alſo vſe apparelled to go, And beardleſſe all to women chaungde, the Pope commaundeth ſo. With burdens of the common wealth, they are not toucht beſide, Immunities. For Princes long ago for them, did in this caſe prouide. They pay no tribute nor no taſke, nor any penalties, Nor troubled are with any toyles, or common miſeries. They ſubiect onely are vnto the Pope, and to his lawe, And as for ciuill or common lawes, they wey them not a ſtrawe, Except they on their ſide do make, and ſtand them well in ſtede, Whereby they may attaine the thing that they determined. They fréely liue and counted are the holyeſt men that bée, Nor good it is to harme them here, in worde or any grée, If any of them by deadly wound do happen to be ſlaine, O Lorde howe great a crime it is, and what a loſſe againe? Both Maſſe and Mattens then do ceaſſe, and Church doores faſt are ſhut And ſong and Organs layde aſide, and Belles to ſilence put. Great mourning made till ſuffred haue the graceleſſe murderer, So much they way themſelues, and of reuengement carefull are. But if he happen for to ſcape, and by that meanes doe liue, They ſmite him downe with dreadfull curſſe, and to the deuill him giue. And binde his ſoule in fearefull bandes, ſecluded quite from bliſſe, And none (except the Pope alone) can him abſolue from this. Thus haue they brought men in ſuch feare, yt they themſelues alwayes, May boldly quarell firſt begin, and brawling bloudy frayes. If they themſelues do kill a man, the matter is but ſmall, And may be eaſily ouerpaſt, and ſafely dealt withall. The Iudge dare touch no ſhauen crowne, nor giue them puniſhment, What crime ſoeuer they commit, or miſchiefe doe inuent. Firſt are they to their Biſhop ſent, and after certaine dayes, To Rome vntill forgetfulneſſe the enmies rage allayes. Then of their murder chearly quit, they homewarde boldly go, Not fearing lawes of any Realme, nor forcing any ſo. The yong ſir Iohn but newly ſhorne, that lately orders tooke, Doth vaunt to ſcape the Iudges handes, and from the hangmans hooke. And not in vaine: for vnto them that thus annoynted bée, Aboue the reſt is graunted ſure, a wondrous libertée. They may doe whatſoeuer they liſt, and what they will inuent, Such things as neyther countriman, nor ſtraunger dare attempt, For ciuill lawes they doe not feare, nor any penaltie, Their Biſhop is their gentle Iudge, and kéepes them tenderly. Great volumes haue they writ, that of theſe liberties entreat, And tearme them Cannon lawes, vnder whoſe ſhadowes wide & great They ſafely route, and pleaſauntly doe take their quiet reſt, And voyde of daunger euery where, do what them lyketh beſt. This euery Emprour is conſtraynde, for to confirme before He take his Crowne: and ſworne for to defende them euermore. And is not this a happie kinde of people? ſuch a one, As like to them in all the worlde, there liueth others none. Moreouer all of mariage ſhunne the ſacred ſtate as yll, The Pope commaunding them againſt Gods heauenly word & wyll. For Paule being taught the ſecretes of the ſkies: determined, Whereby ſuch heate might be aſwagde, and whoordome baniſhed, Single life. D. 27. Presb. D. 28. Ass. D. 31. Si Laicus. Sacerdotibus. That euery man ſhould haue his wife, and women huſbandes all, Permitting onely ſingle life, to thoſe whom God did call, And by his ſpeciall gift exempt, from common lawe and ſtate. But whether popiſh Prieſtes are here exempt, let him that late Came from the newe found Ilandes doubt, for here with vs t'is rife, And knowne as well to yong as olde, the chaſtneſſe of their life. Howe yll they can themſelues refrayne, and eke howe euery where, Nothing can be in ſafetie kept, from their vnruly gere. For eyther with mens wiues they lye, or elſe at home they keepe. Their harlots all at libertie, with whom they ſafely sléepe. Or haue ſome in their neighbors houſe, or while abrode they rome, Take tag and rag as comes to hande, as eaſily as at home. That luſt may haue hir full delight, thus fill they euery place, Wherſoeuer they come with Baſtards, and with children void of grace. No lay man hath this priuilege, nor luſtie libertie. And ſurely well, they are compeld to liue in honeſtie: And vſe the vndefiled bed, as God doth plainely will. Thus onely liue in filthineſſe the popiſhe members ſtill, And onely graunted are to them, their whoores at libertie, And euery other kinde of vice, and vile iniquitie. Which all their ſect doth well allow, and countes them commendable, And better lyke them with this life, and déedes abhominable: Then if they chaunged from this trade, and came to better life, And follow Gods commaundements, in taking of a wife. Yea ſuch they cruelly doe hate, and ſlaunder wickedly, With hatefull wordes of great reproch, and ſpitefull infamie. And if they can depriue them of their liuing and their grace. And driue them poore and naked out, into ſome forraine place. That not ynough thou canſt not muſe, to ſée their crooked minde, And iudgement all inragde, whereby agaynſt both rule and kinde Of nature, and agaynſt the iuſt precepts of reaſons lore, And all the common ordnaunces, that haue béene made therefore. And eke agaynſt the cuſtomes of all Nations that we know, They doe commend adulterous life, and mariage ouerthrow. If ſome there be that alwayes prayſe, and like their lothſome trade, Why ſhould they not attempt whatſoeuer their luſt doth thē perſwade? Thus in their filthie liues they doe continue to the ende, And alter not, nor any ſéekes their doings to amende. They had rather all be torne and rent, than leaue their woonted guiſe, The Biſhop alſo winckes for gaine, nor hope of helpe he ſpies. Couetous And more beſides is Auarice, a ſickneſſe generall, Beginning firſt at head: and ſo diſperſed through them all. They are themſelues for to be ſolde, whoſoeuer is bent to buy, And all things that they haue beſides, to ſale doth open lye. Giue money thou, and ſtraight the Gates of heauen open bée, And eke as many ſoules drawne out of hell as pleaſeth thée. Giue money, and from all thy faultes and ſinnes thou ſhalt be frée, And all made well, and with their Bull it ſhall confirmed bée. Giue money, and for thine eſtate they pray continuallye, And faſt, till as all ouergrowne in fatte they wallowing lye. Giue money, and their merites great, to thée they ſtreight will ſell, So that thou néedeſt take no care at all for liuing well. Giue money, and they giue thée leaue to marry at thy will In times vnlawfull, and to hop about with Iacke and Gill. Giue money, and they licence giue, both egges and fleſhe to eate, As well on frydayes as in Lent, and euery kinde of meate. Giue money, and thy childe ſhall ſoone receyue his chriſtian vowe, And after that be biſhopped and noynted on the browe. Giue money, and thou ſhalt receyue of Chriſt the bodie true, Euen as it hoong vpon the Croſſe, when as he ſuffred nue. Giue money, noſe, and eyes, and eares, ſhall then be noynted well, And mouth, and hand, and foote, and all annoynted ſent to hell. Giue money, and thy Tombe amid the Church ſhall placed bée, Or in the Quéere, ſo that no raine or wet ſhall trouble thée. Giue money then, and ſtore of Pſalmes and Dirges ſhalt thou haue, And eke with great lamenting ſhall thy corps be borne to graue. Giue money, and thou ſhalt be bleſt, with ſtore of Trentals ſoong, And yearely in remembraunce had, with Soule peales duely roong. Giue money, and vpon thy Tombe a princely hearſe they ſet, Still ſmo t with Franckenſence, and all with holy water wet. Giue money, and of all thy vowes diſcharged ſhalt thou bée, And eke with Gods commaundements they ſhall diſpence for thée. All things for money will they do, yet neuer ſatiſfide, For diuers Maſſes are they féede, yet one ſhall ſerue the tide. Sometime a thouſand vnderneath the Chalice do they lay, Receyuing money for them all, yet neuer a one they ſay. Nor carefull of their guile they are, the people they diſpiſe, And all the meanes they can to ſcrape vp golde they do deuiſe. They diuers benifices get, and ſerue the turne of none: But onely ſet their minde on gaine, and ydleneſſe alone. Both ginnes, and traps, and baytes and hookes, they lay on euery ſide, And preſent are at ſicke mens willes, ſome porcion to prouide. Beſides for tythes and offring pence, they earneſtly do call. Theſe are the things that common are vnto theſe members all. Iudge now thy ſelfe, if that they bée the Church of Chriſt, that ſo They ſéeke to ſéeme, and faine would haue themſelues accounted tho. Attempt they any kinde of thing, that Chriſtian rule doth teach? Treade they the auncient fathers ſteps whereof ſo much they preach? All things contrary ſhalt thou ſee, their pompe and fonde aray, Their Apiſh Cowles and ſtraunge attire, and beards cut quite away. Their ſhauen crownes, their mourning gownes, their bedlem ieſture mad, Their Mitars, & their Croſ ars gilt, ſquare caps & muſick glad. Their holy Chriſme, contempt of lawes, and life corrupted ſo, And all the reſt that ydleneſſe inuented long ago: As plagues to perfite godlineſſe, and toyes the worlde to daze, That ſo the people ſtill might haue ſomething whereat to gaze. Wherby the ground of ſuperſtition from theſe gay things might grow, For ſeldome doth the common ſort, the truth from falſehoode know. Nor trie the doctrine and the life by ſcriptures perfite light, And rules of Prophets olde, that were inſpirde with holy ſpright. The things that gorgeous are and gay, as holy they eſtéeme, And euer more do loth the things that plaine and ſimple ſéeme. Hereby the Popes had eaſie way, while as they onely ſought, To haue their doings of the people great and wondrous thought. If they had ſought the honor here, and glory of Chriſt alone, As beſt becomes his miniſters, and ſeruaunts euery one, They ſimply would haue taught the flocke, and vſde no colours vaine, And liude according to the lawes of God, and ſtatutes plaine. Now haue the people better ſkill, of Popes decrées and lyes, Than of his holy ordnaunces, that framde the loftie ſkyes, And will not way their owne eſtate, and miſerable caſe, But ſtop their eares if any ſpeake, and turne away their face. And rather altogither be deceyude and runne awrie, And euerlaſtingly be damnd in hell for companie.
The popiſh Kingdome The thirde booke. NOw muſt we here beholde their fayth, and how the papacie beléeues, bicauſe of fayth it woulde a Captaine counted be. And of the Catholike Church alone, of Chriſt to haue the fame, And wondrouſly they boaſt and brag, in bearing of this name. Which Church if that it were in déede, and doctrine as they ſay, Great wickedneſſe it ſurely were, from them to fall away. But if it may be plainely prooude, they truſt no whit in Chriſt, Nor worſhip God alone, nor looke for ſuccour of the hieſt. But as the Gentiles Idoles ſerue, and worſhip them with care, What kinde of Church it may be calde, a childe may ſone declare. How much it alwayes ſhoulde be ſhoonde, of ſuch as Chriſt doe loue, And onely ſéeke through him to pleaſe, th'almightie Lorde aboue. But firſt t'is méete for to declare, the perfite fayth and right, Catholike fayth. As hath before béene taught by men, inſpirde with holy ſpright: One onely God we are wilde to haue, and worſhip euermore, To whoſe right hande we muſt commit, our ſelues and all our ſtore. Abandoning all worldly care, and confidence in man, As he that cares for vs, and guides, and beſt of others can. This whoſoeuer doth, both feares, and him doth truly loue, And puttes his onely confidence, and truſt in him aboue: And vnto him alone doth flye, in his aduerſitie, And calles to him being ſure of helpe, as beſt for him ſhall be. We alſo muſt in Ieſus Chriſt, beléeue aſſuredlye: His onely ſonne who at his time, came downe from heauens hye, For our offences and reliefe, made perfite man whereby He might redéeme vs all from death, and hell eternally: And with his bloud our ſinnes deface, that for his ſake alone, The father onely fauours vs, and bleſſeth euery one: Hath giuen vs life, and all our ſinnes and faultes forgiuen quight, And of his mercie made vs heyres, with him of heauen bright. This who ſo conſtantly beléeues, and doth with tongue confeſſe, Is made the childe of God, and heyre of euerlaſting bleſſe. He neither feareth Deuills force, nor death with cruell ſtrife, Nor all the raging of the worlde, nor daungers of this life. But faſtning ſtill his eyes on Chriſt, in ſafetie doth he row, Such one is perfite Iſrael, the Church of Chriſt doth know. Such Citizens, and ſuch thou mayſt call alwayes worthily True Catholikes, and members of the bleſſed company. For thoſe that dare not truſt in Chriſt, nor in his father hie, Doe quake for feare, and ſéeke for holes, not knowing where to lie. And of their owne they alwayes ſéeke, a righteouſneſſe to haue, Whereby they may content the Lorde, their ſinfull ſoules to ſaue: Not ſatiſfied with heauenly giftes, nor righteouſneſſe from hie, And fathers fauour here for Chriſt, who gaue himſelfe to die For our offences great, and made the ſatiſfaction full, And from the handes of death and hell, did vs for euer pull. O Lorde how few doe thus beléeue? how euery where in vaine, They doe abuſe the name of Chriſt, and counterfeytes remaine. Being Chriſtians calde, and both in life, and fayth doe diſagree, As in this popiſhe kingdome here thou perfitly mayſt ſée. Popiſh fayth. For marke what things they doe beléeue, what monſters they do frame I not denie, but euery where of Chriſt the bleſſed name Is calde vpon in Churches great, and Créede is dayly ſongue, And Chriſt the true redéemer calde, alonely with the tongue, And tearmed Lorde, but farre from him, the heart doth ſéeme to bée, And with the wide reſounding mouth, it doth no whit agrée. Which in ſo many things appeares, ſo plaine vnto the eye, That graceleſſe muſt he counted be that will the ſame denye. And firſt beholde how earneſtly, they ſéeke in euery thing, The righteouſneſſe that of themſelues, and proper force doth ſpring. Not to thentent to liue a right, and pleaſe the father great, That of his mercie calleth vs, vnto his bleſſed ſeate: Or Chriſt that all our ſinnes and faultes, doth cleerely waſh away, Nor with their life and ayde to helpe, their brethren all they may. But onely heauen for to winne, and to be frée from blame, And with deſerts to pleaſe the Lorde, that all the worlde did frame. Where now appéeres the hope of life, by Chriſt obtained right? And cléere forgiueneſſe of our ſinnes, and Sathan put to flight? For who ſo ſéekes and ſearcheth ſtill, thinkes yet he hath it not For no man ſéeketh for the thing now in poſſeſſion got. Nor any man that hath his wittes, by merits ſéekes to winne, The thing that is alreadie giuen, but rather thanketh him: And merily enioyes the gift, of his obtained wealth, With gratefull minde ſet frée from cares, in quietneſſe and health. Therefore ſince that in euery thing, they righteouſneſſe deſire, And heapes of merites and deſertes, they earneſtly require. And moſt vngodly vſeth them, vnto ſo ill an ende, They neyther doe beleeue in Chriſt, that he doth onely ſende, And fréely giue eternall life, nor that he ſatiſfiſe For all our gréeuous ſinnes and faultes, they rather doe deſpiſe His merites and his fathers giftes, while prowdely in their hartes They truſt vnto their righteouſneſſe, and to their owne deſartes, Hereto it tendes whatſoeuer they doe, in Church or otherwhere, For this ſuch ſtraunge religion haue they framde, and paultrie gere. And this alone of all their life, the marke and ende they made, Suppoſing not to come to God, by any other trade. A Iewiſh people ſure and ſuch, as at this preſent day, No better then the Gentiles are, take name of Chriſt away. For in like ſorte through all the worlde, they doe beléeue as well, And lawe of nature doth inſtruct, and reaſon doth them tell: That for good déedes there doth behinde, a recompence remaine, And that th'almightie father that doth guide the ſtarrie raine Is to be pleaſde with worſhipping, good déedes and righteouſneſſe, And other things whereby we may, our louing mindes expreſſe. Herewith they couet euery one, to rayſe vp mountaines hie, As long time ſince the Giantes did, for to aſſault the ſkie. But ſure they ſhall be ouerthrowne, and driuen downe to hell, For why the Lorde hath long agone, decréede as ſcriptures tell, Not to forgiue th'offences of the worlde, but by his ſonne, By whom the ſubtile ſerpents head, is broke and ouercome. The blinded worlde regardes not this, nor ſéekes to vnderſtande Nor truſtes the worde of God, but in hir owne conceytes doth ſtande. And countes hir fancie ſtill the beſt, and crediteth alway, The fonde deuiſes of hir braine, vntill hir dying day. Euen ſo the Turkiſh multitude, doe put there onely truſt, In liuing as their law commaundes, and in their doings iuſt. So likewyſe doth the Iewe beléeue, ſaluation for to haue, By kéeping of their auncient lawe that Moyſes to them gaue. And euery kinde of people elſe, the very ſame confeſſe, Beléeuing to be ſaued by their lawe and righteouſneſſe. None otherwiſe the papacie, continually beléeues, Nor vnderſtandes the righteouſneſſe, that fayth alonely géeues. Although they reade the ſcriptures and ſaint Paule, and doe them ſift, Who of the righteouſneſſe of fayth, and of the Fathers gift, Through Chriſt doth ſpeake ſo oft, who is our righteouſneſſe alone, And raunſome eke. But let vs ſée the parcelles euery one. Baptiſme. Chriſt when he went from hence did leaue two ſacraments behind, Whereby we might continually his goodneſſe kéepe in minde, And ſtaye our fayth: beléeuing all our ſinnes forgiuen quight, By him alone, and we made heyres, of euerlaſting light. The firſt is Baptiſme wherewithall, we waſht in water cleane, Being buried in the bleſſed waues, and plungde in ſacred ſtreame: Are made the ſeruaunts here of Chriſt, with him continuallye, To ſuffer what ſo euer faules, and eke to liue and dye. Which as it plaine and ſimple is, ſo is it moſt of price, And not to be defilde with any toye or mans deuice. But this it here defiled hath, with wicked doctrine plaine, And with a fooliſh number great of Cerimonies vaine, For thus it plainely teacheth that our ſinnes forgiuen arre, Alonely by the déede hereof, not adding any barre. Accounting not the giftes of God, dealt here without deſart, Nor ſinnes by Chriſt forgiuen free, but by the déede and part: Of him that well prepares himſelfe vnto this ſacrament, That merits may haue place, and workes may gaine the firmament. And that which vnto God is due, to vs imputeth aye, Aſcribing that to déedes, that fayth doth onely take awaye. And that aſſuredly before, the font thou commeſt neare, And ere thou waſht and plunged art, amid the waters cleare. Nor here through baptiſing the ſinnes of man forgiuen are, Nor by the déede thereof as plaine, the ſcriptures doe declare. But all forgiuen when they doe beleeue we doe confeſſe, As counted eke among the flocke, and heyres of bleſſedneſſe. But ſuch as haue no fayth at all, but vnbeléeuers be, No pardon haue though ten times in the fludde they ſowſed be. That of it ſelfe it profites not, although it here be done, With purpoſe to amende the life, that after is to come. Wherefore in auncient time it was not giuen any man, Before he had confeſſed Chriſt, with mouth expreſſing than The fayth that in his heart lay hid declaring all and ſome, And how forgiueneſſe here of ſinne, from Chriſt doth fréely come. Aſcribing nothing to the déedes, of man and merites vaine, Nor truſting to the fonde deuice, of ſuperſticious braine. But now bicauſe this Popiſh ſtate, in Chriſt doth not beléeue, It doth not teache that onely he, doth fréely ſinnes forgéeue. But wanders through the ſtonie wayes, and ditches blinde to hell, And through the thornes to follow him, the people doth compell, Beſides with fooliſh toyes he hath defilde this baptiſme quight, To make the eſtimation more, of mans deſeruing right. A number great of croſſes firſt, he makes and luſtilye, He blowes out ſprights, commaunding them with cruell words to flye. The foole beléeues the infantes yong, with ſprightes to be poſſeſt, Whom faythfull chriſtian people here begat, and parents bleſt, Then thruſtes he ſalt into their mouth, annoynting all the while, The infantes tender eyes, and eares, with ſtincking ſpittle vile. This done his oyle and creame he takes, and with diſcretion ſmall, Annoyntes the ſhoulders of the Childe, and eke his breſt withall. The Cryſome then he calleth for, wherein he faſt doth foulde The little ſoule: and makes him in his hande a Taper houlde. And that he may the better grow, he liftes him vp on hie, Herein leaſt that he ſhould be thought to dote and runne awrie. And onely with theſe trifles to delude the people blinde, Then wondrous ſignes of holy things, he fayneth in his minde. Who will not now make more account, of theſe ſame trifles vaine, The ſolemne order of the Prieſt, and toyes of mortall braine: Then of the gracious gift of God, and merites of his ſonne, Who with his precious bloud redéemde vs all from death to come. Eſpecially when all the rowte, that ſtandes about him rounde, Knowes neuer a worde of all that he, in latine phraſe doth ſounde. But onely heares a babling noyſe, and earneſtly doe marke, The outwarde ſhew of all his déedes, and ceremonies darke. The ſupper. So playe they with the ſupper that our Lorde did ſanctifie, Whereby we might be mindefull of his death continuallie: Vnto the ſtrengthning of our fayth, and our aſcertaind wealth, As pledges of our happie ſtate, and euerlaſting health. To ſhew that with his death he hath our ſinnes defaced quight, And with his precious bloud hath made vs in his fathers ſight Both cleane and frée from euery ſpot, and euery crime withall, And made vs righteous here and iuſt, and frée from deadly fall. Which hope is by this ſupper ſtill, made new and freſh againe, And by the worde and bleſſed ſigne, doth written ſtill remaine, Both in our féeble eyes and heartes, whereby we euermore, May prayſe the Lorde and Ieſus Chriſt his onely ſonne therefore. And thankefull be with ioyfull heartes, for all theſe mercies kinde, Vnited all togither with, one heart and friendly minde. To nouriſh this affection ſtill, and eke in memorie Alwayes to kéepe this great good will, and fauour worthilie. He hath commaunded breade and wine, to be receyude of all, As of his bleſſed body and bloud, the tokens myſticall. But O good God, what monſtrous things, hath here this papacie About this ſupper fainde? what follyes, and iniquitie? Firſt hath he altred quight the name, and Maſſe he calles the ſame, Which what it ſignifies, if it be Gréeke or Latine name, Or rather from the Hebrue fetcht, himſelfe he cannot tell, Nor all his court about the ſame, are yet reſolued well. Then sixe or seauen ſhamefull things, deuiſed by his braine, He hath commaunded to beléeue, miſtaking ſcriptures plaine. As that the ſubſtaunce here of bread, by force of wordes and might, Is chaungde into the bodie of Chriſt, and in the ſelfeſame plight The wine is turnd into his bloud that nothing doth remaine, Of bread and wine, when once the Prieſt his words hath ſpoken plaine: But onely collour, ſmell, and taſte, and leaſt that any man Vnlearned here perhaps might doubt, himſelfe declareth than, Into what kinde of bodie this breade, is chaunged and tranſformde, And eke into what kinde of bloud, the bleſſed wine is turnde. The body as it here was of the Virgine Marie borne, As it with whips was ſcourged here, and on the croſſe was torne. His bloud as from his precious ſide, vpon the grounde was ſhed, And though this ſacrament be euery day, and houre ſolemnized, And Chriſt thus eaten euermore, yet doth he not decaye, But vnconſumde of ſhape and forme, remayneth one alway. Beſides although the little Cake, a ſunder broken be, Into a thouſande péeces, or as ſmall as ſmall may be: Yet euery little péece is Chriſt, and that moſt perfitelie, With ſkin, and fleſh, and bloud, and bones, and all his quantitie. That no vngodly man defiles, this holye bleſſed thing, And that the wicked man aſwell, doth Chriſt from heauen bring Into the breade, as doth the man that liueth moſt vpright, Beſide that Chriſt doth not withdraw himſelfe from any wight. And that aſwell the ill as good and faythleſſe people vaine, Euen as the faythfull him doe eate, though not with equall gaine. That this ſame body goeth not downe, as other meate doth go, But chaunged into him it is, that doth receaue it tho. Beſides as ſoone as in the mouth it comes, ſo ſodainelye Away it goes (not torne with téeth) into the heauens hye. That in this breade which here we ſée, and little compaſſe ſmall, Lies Chriſt that ſuffred for our ſinnes, and God that filleth all. And that in many places here, at once at that ſame tide He is, and preſent therewithall, through all the worlde beſide. That this ſame body vttred many wordes and phraſes fit, While as among his well diſpoſde diſciples he did ſit. And euen there tranſformde to bread, while as he talking ſtoode, And eaten of his people ſtrayte, as other kinde of foode. Beſides he plainely doth affirme, that euery Prieſt that is, Doth in his maſſing offer Chriſt, and that this ſacrifiſe Is euen as much in weight with him, that all the worlde doth guide, As was his bitter death when on, the painefull croſſe he dyde. Moreouer twelue commodities, he alſo doth reſight, That euery ſkilfull Prieſt receyues, and euery houſled wight. And euery one that preſent is, while as the Maſſe is ſayde, And marketh with attentiue eares, how well Sir Iohn hath prayde. Beſides he teacheth that the Maſſe, doth profit equallye, Aſwell the men aliue, as thoſe that long ago did dye. And laſt of all he from the people, pluckes the cuppe away, And vnder one kinde lies as much as vnder both, doth ſay. Bicauſe no body here doth liue, but bloud muſt néedes be there, Nor bloud can any life poſſeſſe, without the bodie here. As if that Chriſt the maiſter of the worlde knew not of this, But in his owne appoyntment ſhoulde for lacke of knowledge mis. And are not theſe ſame wondrous things, and learnings paſſing great, When Chriſt did neuer will the ſame, nor hereof did intreate? To this he patcheth merites to, the Prieſtes deſeruing hy, And euery one that heares the Maſſe, and euery ſtander by. For nothing in the Papacie, without deſertes is donne, Nor muſt be wrought: ſith for a rule, it generally doth ronne. That all our health dependeth of our workes and our good déedes, No place hath fayth nor glorie giuen, to Chriſt From whome procéedes Our happie ſtate and bleſſed life, nor onely to the grace Of God they haue reſpect, that doth of mercy vs imbrace. Who cauſeth Maſſe or doth it ſay, doth merite wondrouſly, The like doe they that doe it heare, and marke attentiuely. Who neyther heares nor vnderſtandes a word thereof at all, But ſtandeth onely in the Church, as painted on a wall, With merites great rewarded is, and all his ſinnes thereby, Forgiuen quite the hope whereof, doth make him looke full hye. Yea if the bell to ſacring toule, and farre from thence thou bée, And cannot come but earneſtly doe wiſh the ſame to ſée. A merite great you gotten haue, thus playne it doth appere, The ſupper ſerueth for deſertes, with papiſtes euery where. Their truſt is alwayes in the Maſſe, to this they onely flye, In euery thing that toucheth them, and euery ieoperdye. And is not this a goodly crewe? they are perſwaded ſtill, What daye they heare or ſée a Maſſe, to haue no kinde of ill. Thus comes it here to paſſe that I, did lately ſay and wright, They put not all their truſt in Chriſt, but in their proper might. And in their owne good workes, as in their doings they expreſſe, Being full of incredulitie, and all vngodlineſſe. Maſſe opens heauen gates, and doth deliuer men from hell, Maſſe healeth all diſeaſes, and doth ſickneſſes expell. Maſſe doth relieue the burdned minde, and ſinnes defaceth quight. Maſſe pleaſeth him that guides the ſkies, and giues the heauens bright. Maſſe pluckes the ſinfull ſoules from out the Purgatorie fire, Maſſe comforteth th'afflicted ſort, and makes them to aſpire. Maſſe waſheth cleane the mind, and makes the guiltie conſcience cleere, Maſſe doth obtaine the grace of God, and kéepes his fauour heere. Maſſe driueth wicked Deuils hence, and ouerthrowes the féendes, Maſſe bringeth Angels good from hie, & makes them faythfull fréendes. Maſſe doth defende the trauayler, from daunger and diſeaſe, Maſſe doth preſerue the ſayling ſhip amid the raging ſeas. Maſſe giueth ſtore of corne and graine, and helpeth huſbandrée. Maſſe bleſſeth euery ſuch as ſeekes in welthie ſtate to bée. Maſſe gettes a man a pleaſant wife, and gettes the mayd hir mate, Maſſe helpes the Captaine in the fielde, and furthereth debate. Maſſe alſo doth aſſwage the heate that in the heart doth raigne, Maſſe doth defende the pleaſant grapes, and vineyards doth maintaine. Maſſe helpes the hunter with his horne, and makes the dog to runne, Maſſe ſendeth ſtore of ſport and game into their nettes to come. Maſſe molifieth the angrie mindes, and driueth rage away, Maſſe brings the wofull Louers to their long deſired day. Maſſe doth deſtroy the witches works, & makes their charmings vaine, Maſſe cauſeth good deliueraunce, and helpes the womans paine. Maſſe makes thy prayers to be heard, and giueth thy requeſt, Maſſe driues away the gréedie Woolfe, that doth the shéepe moleſt. Maſſe makes the murraine for to ceaſſe, and ſtocke to thriue apace, Maſſe makes thy iourney proſper well, wherſoeuer thou turnſt thy face. Maſſe ouerthrowes thine enmies force, and doth reſiſt his might, Maſſe driues out Robyn good fellow, and bugs that walke by night. Maſſe plague and hunger doth expell, and ciuill mutenie, Maſſe makes a man with quiet minde, and conſcience cléere to die. Maſſe vſeth many ſlouthfull knaues, and lubbers for to féede, Maſſe brings in dayly gaine, as doth the Sowters arte at neede. In Maſſe is all their truſt & ſtrength, all things through Maſſe are don, In all their griefes and miſeries, to Maſſe they ſtreightwayes ron. Such force hath lewde perſwaſion here, in teaching men awrie, That our good workes are onely they that gaine the heauens hie. By this ſo many aultars in the Churches vp did riſe, By this the number growes ſo great of Prieſtes to ſacrifice. From hence aroſe ſuch ſhamefull ſwarmes of Monkes wt great exceſſe, Whom profite of this Maſſe doth kéepe in ſlouthfull ydleneſſe. For this ſame cauſe ſuch mightie kings, and famous Princes hie, Ordayned Maſſes for their ſoules, and Prieſtes continuallie, With great reuenues yearely left and euerlaſting fée, An eaſie way to ioy, if it with ſcriptures might agrée. Streight after theſe, the welthie men tooke vp this fanſie vaine, And built them Chappels euery one, and Chaplaynes did retaine At home, or in their pariſhe Church, where Maſſe they dayly ſoong, For ſauegarde of their family, and of their children yoong. Both for their friendes aliue, and ſuch as long before did die, And in the Purgatorie flames tormented ſore doe lie. Chriſt in his Supper giues himſelfe to vs aſſuredly, And all his vertuous déedes on vs beſtowes, and doth apply, His merites and his hie deſartes with vs he common makes, His grace and mercies euery one, extended for our ſakes. We this receyue, and nothing giue, nor can we giue againe, But onely faythfull louing hearts, and thankefull for his paine. Theſe men by meritorious workes, and ſolemne chaunting chéere, With Maſſes make him recompence, and ſatiſfie him heere. Thus much the Pope peruerted hath the giftes of God deuine, With dreames and fond deuice of man, and curſed countermine: That no where nowe appeares the hope of ſinnes forgiuen quight, By Chriſt and life obtayned here, and Sathan put to flight. Others. To theſe two Sacraments, that Chriſt himſelfe appoynted héere, They adde fiue others, that more cauſe of merits may appéere. Which though they neyther tokens bée of Gods aſſured loue, Which they ne can being not confirmde with promiſe from aboue: Yet dare he boldly promiſe here, to ſuch as take them right, The grace and fauour of the Lorde, and eke the holy ſpright. He doth confirme the children yong, without examining, Or trayll of their fayth, or of their woonted handling. He teacheth that the holy ghoſt may be receyude, and had At handes of euery Prieſt, that is, as well of good as bad. Not putting difference betwixt Chriſtes Legates truly ſent, And wicked Simon, damned for his miſchieuous intent. With Creame their foreheads doth he mark, the people laughing there, And thoſe whome thus he marked hath he ſtriketh on the eare. Then Godfather or Godmother is readie ſtreight at hande, To binde the noynted forehead, like a wound, with linnen bande. Which he enforced is to weare eight dayes continuallie, With pleaſure great to euery one that kéepes him companie. And after taken of againe, his forehead waſhed cléene, So that no holy Chriſme thereon, for to remaine be ſéene. What ſhould I here remember now, Penance, what crimes & haynous things Confeſſion takes away? and eke what helpe contrition brings And ſatiſfaction for our faultes? to ſhield our ſoules from paine, It muſt buy out our miſdéedes all, to their purloyning gaine. For all things ſtill he doth impute, to déedes of mortall men, Not knowing perfite fayth in Chriſt, nor teaching it to them. But rather doth deſtroy it quite, accounting wickedlée, Our Sauiour Chriſt but as a man, and Cypher here to bée. Vndoubtedly the flocke of Chriſt doth euermore confeſſe Their ſinnes, and for the ſame repents with griefe and heauineſſe: Nor maketh any righteouſneſſe hereof, nor iuſtifide Doth ſeeke to be, no more than in the lawe or death beſide. Nor any other raunſome for their ſinnes do thinke to pay, But onely Chriſt, whoſe precious death doth take them all away. The Pope contrary cleane to this, doth teach in plaine decrée, And doth commaund with dreadfull lawe, all faults confeſt to bée Vnto the Prieſt at Eaſter time, or of neceſſitie, When as the fatall houre is come, and day wherein to die. And that ſincerely here and plaine, what hath bene thought or done, Elſe can no ſinnes forgiuen bée, nor abſolution come. Where now appéeres th'unfayned hope of ſinnes forgiuen quight By Chriſt, and euerlaſting life, and Sathan put to flight? Who can declare what harmes the people haue receyude by this, How many it hath drawne from Chriſt and euerlaſting blis? What ſcruple vnto conſciences, and trouble it doth bring: For as they can not call to minde, eche fault and wicked thing That they haue done, whereby they may confeſſed thereof bée: So can they not beleue, that they forgiuen are and frée. Beſides with mumbling in a tongue vnknowne, he pardons all, And hath no worde to beare him out, and ſtay his faith withall. But blindly will this teacher blind haue all things credited, A guide of all vngodlineſſe, with doltiſhe fanſies led. He abſolution alſo giues, by merites for to come, And ſuch as long agone are paſt, and preſently are done. Not onely of their owne, but bought with money other wheare. Vnto the merites eke of Chriſt, his death and paſſion deare, He ioynes the merites here of Saints, and makes them all as one, Perſwading our redemption, not wrought by Chriſt alone. In fine a ſatiſfaction for all ſinnes it doth ſuffice, If to the Romiſh Cheſt you throw your money any wiſe. Or vnto Abbeys giue your goods, or elſe your welth applie. In building ſolemne ſynagogs, and loftie towres hie. Or gad about in Pilgrimage, to viſite holy ſhrines, Or ſay your Aue Mary euery houre fortie times, And bid the bleſſed Virgin ſtill good morow manerly, Or what ſoeuer elſe 〈◊〉 Prieſt doth bid you orderly. I well remember once at Spires I ſaw a wondrous ſight Of people, in the euening late, with Croſſe and torches bright. The Croſſe afore them borne, and all their faces couered, With backs all bare they paſſed throw, the ſtréetes and market ſted, Commaunded for to beat them ſelues with whips and ſcourges there, And truely here they trifled not, nor did themſelues forbere. The bloud ſprang out a pace, and eke their backe did ſwell and wheale With multitude of ſtripes, that ſcarce the Surgeon them could heale. Thus would they wipe away their ſinnes, and fully ſatiſfie. Is not this ſame a madneſſe groſſe, and ſhamefull iniurie, Brought in into this world with ſpéede, and beaſtly wickedneſſe, Of this vnſhamefaſt popiſhe ſtate, that truth doth ſtill opreſſe? Thinkſt thou that with this doctrine here, they truſt in Chriſt aboue? Or takſte thou them for Catholikes, which name they chiefely loue? The godly Miniſters at firſt, did put to penance ſtill, Such as were excommunicate, and openly did yll. That diſcipline might in the Church be had continuallie, Leaſt that the heathen ſhould ſuppoſe that eche iniquitie Might there be done vnpuniſhed, and that the others all, By their example might beware, how they hereafter fall. And alſo that ſuch puniſhment might pleaſe againe the mindes, Of thoſe that were offended with theſe former wicked crymes: Not that the ſinnes forgiuen were of God with penance ſuch, For lawes of God and mans decrées doe differ very much. And with one ſort of penance here, they are not both content, Nor God and man are pleaſed both alyke with one intent. Mens mindes with puniſhment are pleaſde, and fully ſatiſfide, But God is onely pleaſde in Chriſt, and nothing elſe beſide. Through pure and perfite faith, the Lorde that made both earth & ſkies, Releaſeth euerlaſting paynes, and neuer ceaſſing cries. But of this preſent life he doth releaſe the puniſhment, To ſuch as onely truſt in him, and vertuouſly are bent. They bid that men ſhould in their owne good works haue all their hope, And truſt to merites of the Saints, and pardons of the Pope. Chriſt hath not fully ſatiſfide, they thinke aſſuredly, And doubt not for to preach the ſame in audience openly. Which ſerueth ſurely to their gaine, for hereof doth ariſe, Their maieſtie, their paſſing welth, and Lordly liberties. So likewiſe doth annealing laſt, take veniall ſinnes away, While as for helpe vnto the Saints, deuoutly they doe pray. They alwayes are agaynſt the Lord, and Chriſt that here was ſlaine For our offences, and our faults, with agonie and paine. And with their pompe and prowde deſertes they cary downe to hell, The fooliſh flocke that doth beléeue whatſoeuer they doe tell. What ancor doe they flie vnto in all aduerſitie, In famine, peſtilence, and warres, and euery ieopardie? Refuge. Looke well about thée now, and giue attentiue eies and eares, For here the perfite fayth and truſt of euery man appeares. What hope there is in any man, herein is plainely ſpyde, The heart of euery creature here, by this is truely tryde. Who truſtes in God alone, and thinkes him mercifull to bée, And eke almightie, call on him in all aduerſitée. And vnto him he onely flies in feare and dreadfull wo, As by his worde he oftentymes commaundeth vs to do. But whither flies this Papacie? in whom put they their truſt? In all things rather than in Chriſt, or in his father iuſt. Denying him to be their God, and helper at their néede, Nor that all things in heauen and earth, doth from his handes procéede. For if they did not in their heartes this openlye denie, They would in all their troubles here, to him for ſuccour flie. And all their things into his handes they would commit alway, Not ſéeking Mediators here, nor ſpeachmen for to pray. Contented onely here with one, whoſe grace and fauour great For vs we may be well aſſurde, doth euermore intreat. But with one perfite God alone, they can not well away, Their chiefeſt truſt and hope, they in the Virgin Marie lay. The worſhip of the virgin Marie. Shée pleaſeth God, and with hir childe, in armes continually Delighteth him, and what ſhe aſkes, he neuer doth deny. Shée is the Quéene of heauen bright, and with a beck can do Whatſoeuer ſhée determinde is, and giues hirſelfe vnto. Shée is the happie ſtarre on ſeas, and port of perfite reſt, And ſureſt ancour for to ſtay the ſhip in ſeas oppreſt. Shée is the light of all the world, and mother here of grace, That doth of God forgiueneſſe get, and doth our ſinnes deface. Shée kéepeth thoſe that worſhip hir in heart continually, From handes of euery wicked ſprite, and deuils tyranny, And with hir gowne ſhée couers Kings, and Popes, and people all, From wrath of God, and vengeance due, that on their heads would fall. The gate of heauen eke is ſhée, and euerlaſting life, The onely life of all the worlde, and ende of all our ſtrife. Shée is the hope of euery man, and chiefe defendreſſe héere, Shée ſhewes vs Ieſus Chriſt, when as before hir we appéere. Shée alſo in the dreadfull howre of death doth vs defende, Shée bleſſeth all the life of man, and fortune good doth ſende. Wherefore to hir in euery place, with all their heartes they call, Shée helpeth children at their bookes, and giues them wits withall. Shée helpes yong maides to huſbandes both of liuing faire and face, Shée helpes the wofull ſutor, to obtaine his Ladies grace. And vnto maryed folkes, ſhée giues faire children here with ioy, And in their trauaile kéepes the wiues, from daunger and annoy. Shée healeth aged men of coughes, and ſhortneſſe of their breath, And brings them in their latter dayes vnto a happie death. Shee helpes the huſbandman with ſéede, and endes him raine ynough, Shée filles his barne with corne and hay, and guideth well his plough. The ſhipman ſéekes hir ayde in ſeas, in daunger great and paine, The wandring Marchant truſtes by hir to haue his wiſhed gaine. The gréedie craftes man truſteth ſtill a good ſucceſſe to haue, By hir that is the Ladie of the worlde, and all doth ſaue. To hir they doe commend themſelues, and all their familie, That get themſelues beyond the ſeas for feare of ieopardie. What ſhould I euery thing reſight, in euery matter ſhée Is callde vpon, and alwayes thought the onely ayde to bée. Shée is all in all, and heares and ſées what can be done or thought, And gouernes all in euery place where as this fayth is taught. Right acceptable vnto God, and holieſt ſure of all The Virgin is, whom euermore the worlde ſhall bleſſed call: Yet neuer ought ſhée for to haue ſuch eſtimation héere, Nor powre deuine, without the worde of God and ſcriptures cléere. For if ſhée haue ſuch force, and can do all that hath béene tolde, What doth remaine to Chriſt the king, that Scepter chiefe doth holde? Adde more to this that Popiſh prieſtes theſe fanſies fonde do faine, Without the Prophets warrant, or the Apoſtles teaching plaine. Who ſéeth not here that they ne doe in God put all their truſt, That framde the earth and heauen hie, with perfite meaſure iuſt? And that they make no account of Chriſt, who here aſcended hie, Whereby he might relieue the worlde and all things here ſupplie? They rather in our Ladie truſt, and ſtill to hir do call, If any daunger them oppreſſe, or miſchiefe great do fall. Hir doe they paint and liuely carue, and giue hir prayſes tho, In Churches hie and euery houſe whereſoeuer you come or go. To hir they weping, ſob, and ſigh, and howle, and mourne, and all, To hir they certaine prayers giue, that here the Courſe they call, And ſundrie other ſeruices, but vſed commonly As moſt of weight, the Roſaries do flouriſh wondrouſly, Deuiſed firſt and made by Monkes, a kind of men that bée The authors ſtill of wickedneſſe, and all iniquitee. They vnder cloke of worſhipping the Virgin, haue aſſignde A certaine fooliſh felowſhip, whom wéekely they do binde, To offer vp theſe Roſaries, vnto the Virgin pure, And neuer faile this ſeruice great, as long as they indure. An other kinde of Monkes there is, by office ſanctified, That nothing haue to doe with Chriſt, nor any Saint beſide, But ſerue the Virgin Marie here, as onely of hir traine, And wiſely ſure they are aduiſde, for ſo they more doe gaine: Than if they ſhould account themſelues Chriſtes ſeruaunts here to be, And onely labour to aduaunce his name and dignitie. True fayth continually is poore, and liues in ſimple caſe, Vngodlineſſe procureth gaine, and wealth in euery place. The Virgin more on ſolemne dayes appoynted feſtiuall, Is highly worſhipt of hir folke, and ſhauen Papiſtes all. Hir Image doe they brauely decke with ſumptuous ſhow to ſight, Hir aultar ſet about with bowes, and Lampes, and Candels bright. Eche man his Candle preſent hath, that burneth thorow the yeare, And Franckenſence in euery place doth ſmoke, and ſinging cleare With Organs in the Church reſoundes, the people brings in pence, And on the aultar offer all with wondrous reuerence. Such honors are not here beſtowde on Chriſt in any place, He is not thought to do ſo much, nor of ſo great a grace: Or counted of his nature elſe for to be more ſeuere, Than to vouchſafe to looke vpon our deedes and prayers here. Beſides they kéepe our Ladyes faſt at ſundrie ſolemne tymes, Inſtructed by a turning whéele, or as the lot aſſignes. For euery Serten hath a whéele, that hangeth for the viewe, Markte round about with certaine dayes, vnto the virgin dewe. Which holy through ye yere are kept, from whence hangs down a thred, Of length ſufficient to be toucht, and to be handled. Now when that any ſeruaunt of our Ladyes commeth héere, And ſekes to haue ſome certaine day by lotte for to appéere, This Sexten turnes the whéele about, and bids the ſtander by, To holde the thred whereby he doth, the time and ſeaſon try: Wherein he ought to kéepe his faſt, and euery other thing, That decent is, or longing to our Ladies worſhipping. Who doth ſo much for Chriſt, or who for him doth take ſuch paine, To whome if that they light a ſyſe, his mother hath ſix againe. The ſecond place in euery thing, he hath or elſe the laſt, For no man doth his hole affiaunce here vpon him caſt. The popiſh ſorte and people all, by name doe know him here, But all their truſt and confidence, they ſet another where. Nor onely to the Virgin here, they dare themſelues commit, Nor vnderneath hir ſole defence, they quietly can ſit: worſhip of ſaintes. But vnto other ſaintes they flye, whom God hath long agone Receyued from this preſent worlde, vnto his ſtately throne: That after all their cares and toyles, with miſery oppreſt, Deliuered from the worlde, they might haue euerlaſting reſt. But theſe men from the ſkies doe bring them downe to earth againe, Depriuing them of reſt, and putting them to worldely paine. For yet (they ſay) they carefull are for mortall men beſide, None otherwiſe than God, or Chriſt, that all the worlde doth guide: And that they mediatours are, and aduocates for man, Before the Lorde and helpe vs here, by all the meanes they can, Deliuering vs from puniſhment, and our deſerued fall, And that they heare the prayers of all ſuch as to them call. As if that Chriſt vnable were, to doe all this alone, Who made himſelfe our aduocate, before his fathers throne. Theſe things they fayne and doe inuent, without both fayth and minde, That ſtedfaſt can they neuer ſtande, nor ſafetie here can finde. As he cannot that puttes not all his truſt in God alone, And in the faythfull ſauiour, of all our hope the ſtone. Therfore they worſhip ſaints with hymnes, & ſongs and muſike ſwéete With Aultars fayre and Churches built, in euery towne and ſtréete, In fieldes abrode and pariſhes, in villages about, So that no corner can be founde, nor place appeare without: But picture painted of ſome ſaint, there gorgeouſly doth ſhine, Or caruen Image worſhipped, with reuerence deuine. And ech one hath his day alowde, whereon they doe beleue, That from the earth departing here, the ſkies did them receue. An other holy day they haue, when church or aultar here, Is dedicated vnto them, with pompe and luſtie chere. The Churches for their ſakes are ſtrawde, with pleaſant flowers ſwéete And euery piller garniſhed with bowes and braunches méete. The aultar alſo couered is, with clothes of value great, The Tabernacles opned are, and ſaintes are ſhewde in ſeat, Fayre guilt and finely ouerlayde, with ſiluer ſumptuouſly, The grounde with Turkey carpettes ſpred, and hangde with tapeſtry, Perfumed all with franckenſcence, and euery pleaſaunt thing, That may prouoke deuocion, and money in to bring. Reliques. Their bones they alſo vp doe digge, and ſepulchres deſtrye, Contrarie quight to mans decrées, and will of God on hye: Whereby a greater gaine may come, and wickedneſſe aryſe, And that they may beguile the worlde, and bleare the peoples eyes, And all in Golde theſe bones they ſet, and rounde with ſiluer binde, And cloſde in Chriſtall to delude, th'unlearned ſimple minde. Here faine they many miracles, and of their liues they preache, And all their good and gracious workes, continually they teache. Not to the honoring of Chriſt, nor that the people might, By folowing of their vertuous life be brought to liue vpright: But for to bring them from the truth, vnto idolatrie, And for to picke their purſes here, and them to follies tie. For this they bring them forth abrode, and on the aultar ſhow, For this they carie them about, with many a curſey low: And offer them to any man, for money here to kiſſe, Nor onely in this wretched caſe, they are content with this: To haue their bones in ſiluer cloſde, and fondely to perſwade, Men vnto ſuperſticion, with this ſame fooliſh trade: But alſo forth they ſhew their clothes, their clokes, their ſocks, their hoſe Their napkins, ſhooes, and ſillie ſhirtes, their heare, their ſkin, their toſe. And eke the Virgin Maries milke, (ſo farre they be from ſhame,) And coales whereon ſaint Laurence lay, while as he broylde in flame. Yea more than this, they ſhew the Haye, whereon our ſauiour lay, Amid the maunger when he firſt, was borne with ioyfull day. And eake his coate that cruell ſouldiours, woulde not here deuide, The nayles and dredfull poynted ſpeare, that perſt his tender ſide. From whence ſprange out the watriſh bloud, and cartlodes great beſide Of that ſame croſſe that long time ſince was in the riuer ſpide: Whereof in euery famous Church ſome péeces doe appeare Beſides the ſliuers that about their neckes doe many weare: And ſundrie other thinges they ſhew, which here for to reſight, Time ſuffers not, nor leyſure doth permit me here to wright. Thou woonder wouldſt how theſe ſame things, ſo many yeres ſhould lie And in what place they founde them firſt, and how they came therebie. But lawfull is it not to aſke, to doubt thereof is ſinne: For all things are moſt truly done, and no deceyt therein. Beſides they promiſe pardon here, of faulte and treſpaſſe quight, And merites great of waight to ſuch, as came to ſée this ſight. So vile deceyuers of the worlde, borne here to faine and lie, To leade the people into hell, and kéepe them from the ſkie. To euery ſaint they alſo doe, his office here aſſine, And fourtene doe they count of whom, thou mayſt haue ayde deuine. Help . Among the which our Ladie ſtill, doth holde the chiefeſt place, And of hir gentle nature helpes, in euery kinde of caſe. Saint Barbara lookes that none without the body of Chriſt doe dye, Saint Cathern fauours learned men, and giues them wiſedome hye: And teacheth to reſolue the doubtes, and alwayes giueth ayde, Vnto the ſcolding Sophiſter, to make his reaſon ſtayde. Saint Appolin the rotten téeth doth helpe when ſore they ake, Otilia from the bleared eyes, the cauſe and griefe doth take. Rooke healeth ſkabbes and maungines, with pockes and ſkurfe & ſkall, And cooleth raging Carbuncles, and byles and botches all. There is a ſaint whoſe name in verſe cannot declared be, He ſerues againſt the plague and ech infectiue maladie. Saint Valentine beſide to ſuch, as doe his power diſpiſe The falling ſickneſſe ſendes, and helpes the man that to him cries. The raging minde of furious folkes doth Vitu pacifie And doth reſtore them to their 〈◊〉 , being calde on ſpéedilie. Eraſmus heales the Collicke and the griping of the guttes, And Laurence from the backe and from the ſhoulders ſickneſſe puttes. Blaſe driues away the quinſey quight, with water ſanctifide, From euery Chriſtian creature here, and euery beaſt beſide. But Leonerd of the priſoners doth, the bandes a ſunder pull, And breakes the priſon doores and chaines, wherwith his Church is full. The quartane ague and the reaſt, doth Pernel take away, And Iohn preſerues his worſhippers, from pryſon euery day. Which force to Benet eke they giue, that helpe enough may bée, By ſaintes in euery place: what doſt thou here omitted ſée? From dreadfull vnprouided death, doth Marke deliuer his, Who of more force than death himſelfe, and more of value is. Saint Anne giues wealth and liuing great, to ſuch as loue hir moſt, And is a perfite finder out, of things that haue béene loſt. Which vertue likewiſe they aſcribe, vnto an other man, Saint Vincent, what he is I cannot tell, nor whence he came. Againſt reproche and infamy, on Suſan doe they call, Romanus driueth ſprites away, and wicked deuills all. The Byſhop Wolfgang heales the goute, S. Wendlin kepes the shéepe With ſhepheardes, and the Oxen fatte, as he was woont to kéepe. The briſtled hogges doth Antonie preſerue and cheriſh well, Who in his life tyme alwayes did in woodes and forreſtes dwell. Saint Gartrude riddes the houſe of Miſe, and killeth all the Rattes, The like doth Biſhop Huldrich with his earth, two paſſing Cattes. Saint Gregorie lookes to little boyes, to teache their a. b. c, And makes them for to loue their bookes, and ſchollers good to be. Saint Nicolas kéepes the Mariners, from daunger and diſeas That beaten are with boyſtrous waues, and toſt in dredfull ſeas. Great Chryſtopher that painted is with body big and tall, Doth euen the ſame, who doth preſerue, and kéepe his ſeruants all, From fearefull terrours of the night, and makes them well to reſt, By whom they alſo all their life, with diuers ioyes are bleſt. Saint Agathae defendes thy houſe, from fire and fearefull flame, But when it burnes, in armour all doth Florian quench the ſame. Saint Vrban makes the pleaſant wine, and doth preſerue it ſtill, And ſpourging, veſſels all with Muſt continually doth fill. Iudocus doth defende the corne, from myldeawes and from blaſt, And Magnus from the ſame doth driue the Graſhopper as faſt Thy office George is onely here, the horſeman to defende, Great Kinges and Noble men with pompe, on thee doe ſtill attende. And Loye the ſmith doth looke to horſe, and ſmithes of all degrée, If they with Iron meddle here, or if they Goldeſmithes bée. Saint Luke doth euermore defende, the paynters facultie, Phiſitions eke by Coſme and his fellow guided be. Who can remember all the ſaintes, to whome the popiſh ſort, In all theyr troubles here with prayer, as vnto God reſort? For Chriſt they doe ſuppoſe is madde, and ſ outhfully doth liue, Regarding naught but all his minde to idleneſſe doth giue. Yet here it doth not vnto them, a thing ſufficient ſeeme, Pilgrimages. To worſhip all theſe ſaintes at home, that they ſo much eſtéeme, Nor that they can in euery place, nor will ſhew all their might, Though equally they in the heauens ſhine with glorie bright: But into countries farre they go, as they haue vowde before, Or of their voluntarie willes, to ſeeke their fauour more: And beare to them their offrings great, with frée and earneſt minde, Suppoſing at their handes therefore, more fauour for to finde. Some thither are conſtrainde to runne, by wicked ſprites and ill, And in their hande a ſtaffe they take, or elſe ſome crooked bill: Or whatſoeuer in their handes, they at that howre had, Wherein they were compelled thus, with woondrous rage to gad. Of weapons ſuch at Ratſpon are, there thouſandes to be ſéene, As monuments of people madde, whereto all naked cléene With thirſt and hunger ſome haue gone, our Ladie for to ſée, Enough cannot this wickedneſſe, and madneſſe called bée. There are that leaue their owne affayres, and buſineſſe that doth fall, To them in common wealth, theyr men, their wife, and children all, And runne abrode on pilgrimage, with daunger great and paine, To purge their ſinnes and by deſarts, the heauens for to gaine. For why the Prince of errours all, the better to deface True godlyneſſe hath promiſed, not here in euery place Forgiueneſſe of our ſinnes, but in ſome Churches great alone, Which poore and riche, and yong and olde, doe credit euery one. Therefore vnto the holy lande, Ieruſalem to ſee, Or vnto Compoſtel they runne, and paſſe the Pyrannee, Or else to Rome the Ladie chiefe, of pardons euermore, Who alwayes hath hir coffers ſtuft with merites great in ſtore: And doth diſpence with euery man, that willing is to paye, And for the ſame hath trauailed, from countrie farre away. The bleſſed Virgin Marie, is in ſundrie places ſought, But moſt at Aquiſgran except he better hath it thought: That ſinfull is and wearie of Chriſt, to Englande for to go, Where as ſhée can doe many things, and rules and raigneth ſo: That they account it vanitie, to call vpon the highſt, And take him for a blockehead here, that truſteth vnto Chriſt. Likewiſe hath euery other ſaint, a countrie of his owne, Where moſt he ſhowes his miracles, and liſteth to be knowne: And where he heares the prayers beſt, of ſuch as money giue, Vnto the ydle Monkes and Prieſtes, that in the Churches liue. Ech one for his degrée doth giue, none thinkes he well hath wrought, Except ſome offring méete for his eſtate he there hath brought: Whereby ſuch ſtore of precious ſtones, and coſtly clothes you ſpie, And giftes of Golde and ſiluer great, but Baſons ſpecially: And Chaliſes, and Croſſes bigge, beſet with pearle and ſtone, That from the Indians blacke are brought, or got in ſeas alone. There gliſters gréene the Eſmerald, that blaſing burneth bright, The Carbuncle there ſwéetely ſhowes, the pleaſant Camnes whight: There ſhines the purple Iacinct fayre, great ſtore of Saphires there, With Diamonds, Iaſpers, Chryſolytes, and Agats doe appere: And all the precious ſtones that in the worlde are to be ſéene, That long ago the giftes of kinges and Princes great haue béene. There Candles ſtande as great as men may well in armes embrace, And number great of Tapers ſmall, that burne in euery place, And rounde about hange Images of waxe that likeneſſe haue, Of Children, women, men, and ſhéepe, and ſwine, and horſes braue, With ſundrie other likeneſſes, that here were long to tell, As ſignes of diuers daungers by this ſaint eſcaped well. Who can declare the maſſing wéedes? the ſhips of franckenſence? Their reliques, and their coſtly ſhrines, with hie magnificence? Their Banners and their other things, that in Veſtrie lye? The giftes that to theſe ſaintes are due, ech man giues willinglye. Nor any man reſtrained is, by néede or pouertie, So that they be their aduocates, and kéepes them from anoye, And leades, them when their life ſhall ende, to euerlaſting ioye. Who doth not ſée that they doe more, in them then Chriſt beleeue, To whome they ſcarce in all their liues one halfepeny doe geeue. Few Churches alſo in the worlde, there are that beare his name, But ſaints haue Churches ſwarming thicke, in euerie ſtréete and lane, Chriſt ſtill doth kéepe his poore eſtate, but Paule and Peter there, In wealth doe Craeſus farre ſurmount, and eke in coſtly gere. The ymage of our Ladie doth King Salomon excell, And painted Iames with Midas may in ſhow be matched well. Yet all their truſt is not in ſaintes, whom though they worſhip all, Yet dare they not commit their liues, into their handes to fall: So that no ankar holde they haue, but hange amid the ſkie, Merites. And downeward liſt they not to fall, nor can they vpwarde flie: But toſt and tumbled here and there, with blaſtes of boyſtrous windes, They haue no place to reſt or ſtay, their wauering doubtfull mindes. By their good déedes they onely thinke, the heauens for to take, And in themſelues good hope they haue, if prayers long they make: And tire their tongues with mumbling vaine, and endleſſe pattering, Or Coocoolike continually, one kinde of muſike ſing. A merit great they count it here, to kéepe their faſting dayes, And eate no fleſh, nor egges, nor milke, nor whitemeate any wayes. But fill their bellies full of fiſhe, of euery daintie kinde, For theſe good déedes they thinke that God will leaue his angrie minde: And places in the heauen giue, whereas he will them bleſſe, With méete rewardes for authors ſuch, of ſo great righteouſneſſe. And if they almoſe giue and breade, to ſuch as are in neede, Or ragged clothes, they ſtrayte ſuppoſe to haue heauen for their méede. If any thing to Monkes they giue, or on the Church beſtow, Or of their proper charges builde a Chappell fayre of ſhow: And finde a Preſt to ſing a Maſſe, therein continually, Than looke they wondrouſly aloft, and ſurely thinke thereby, Aboue the heauens bright in ioye, for euermore to liue, The Lorde himſelfe can ſcarſe deuiſe a iuſt rewarde to giue, If they to holy places go, and for religion ſake, Vnto the ymage of ſome ſaint, they painfull iourneys make, Into the coaſtes of Syria, or deſart places great Of Egipt, they doe ſure ſuppoſe, that for this worthie feate, They are abſolude from all their ſinnes, as cléere and frée beſide, As is the dogge from duſkiſh Fleas, amid the ſommer tide. For to their merites ſo they truſt, and ſwell ſo much withall, That no man able is to make, their loftie minde to fall. Thence ioyfully they doe returne, beſet with Skallop ſhelles, Their cloakes and hattes hangde rounde about, as if it were with belles With Images of leade and tinne, which they in euery coaſt, Doe blaſe abroade, and of their great deſartes and merites boaſt. All things they here for merites doe, and all that in them lies, They ſéeke in euery thing to haue, ſome merite to ariſe: For by the ſame they thinke their ſinnes, are here forgiuen quight, And that they finde the certaine way, that leades to heauen right. Wherefore if of their owne they want, as they haue little ſtore, They go and buy of other men, that commonly haue more. But ſpecially of Monkes that haue the merites chiefe to ſell, Sufficient both to kéepe themſelues, and other men from hell. I ſaw a Gallye painted once, that was both large and tall, That driuen forth with pleaſant windes, and happie courſe withall, The raging ſeas and waues of this ſame tombling worlde did cut, And ſayled out to heauen gates, that preſently were ſhut. Hir ſtraught was onely Friers and Monkes, and on the ſpardecks hie, Were all the chiefeſt members of the wicked papacie. The people with their Saren Prieſtes, euen at the poynt to drowne, Amid the wilde and wofull ſeas, were ſwimming vp and downe, And holding vp their wearie handes, with plaint and pitious crie, They calde vpon the holy Monkes, that in the Galley lye. The Monkes caſt ouer borde their ores, and out their Cables threw, And catching diners in this ſort, a few to ſhip they drew, Whereby that none without the ayde, of Monkes are ſaude you ſée, But drowned in the Stygian ſtreames, and helliſh waters bée. All ſuch as are not Monkes or ſaued by their merites heare, Or in their ſhip, and this makes fooles to buy their merites deare. Nor yet the minde is ſatiſfide, nor heart in quiet lyes, Pardons. Of ſuch as ſéeke to liue by workes, and Chriſt do thus diſpiſe. Wherfore the Pope them Pardons ſels, & graunts them grace at will, And giues for golde the déedes of Saints, to purge away their ill. No foole the Pope that by this fraude ſuch treaſure great inioyes, But fooles are they that him beleue, and giue their goodes for toyes. According to the Prouerbe thus, the cloth muſt ſtill be ſhorne, Leaſt it ſhould hap to be conſumde with mothes, and all to torne. In Chriſt alone they will not truſt, therefore they worthilie Doe buy ſuch lyes, and for the ſame do giue ſuch priſes hie: And know not where to ſet their foote, but here and there do ronne, And alwayes doubt in euery thing, if they enough haue donne. This birding hath the people ſpoylde, and euery realme beſide, And of the Pope the hungrie mawe hath fully ſatiſfide, Who vſeth euermore to ſell the reigne of heauen hie, To euery man that offers golde, and willing is to buie. Amid the Church there placed ſtandes a Cheſt with yron bound, Made faſt behinde with Chaynes of force, vnto ſome Piller round: A narrow mouth it hath, wherein a Teſtorne ſcarce will go, Then furniſh they the Pulpet with ſome bawling Frier tho, Or others that are voyde of ſhame, and care not what they ſay, Who may extoll their Pardon there, and ſhewe what men ſhall pay, Perſwading euery man, that hath regard the ſkyes to gaine, And for to haue their ſinnes releaſt with little price and paine, And for to haue the ſoules drawne out of flame departed heare, Of father, mother, grandſire, wife, or any kinſman deare: That they remember well the Box, and money faſt do bring, For them and theirs, not letting ſlip ſo hie and great a thing. Who would not here preſerue himſelfe, and ſet at libertie, Both him and his with ſummes, from wrath of him that rules the ſkie, If theſe deceyuers tolde the truth, with earneſt minde and will, And did not with theſe falſehoodes, both the ſoule and bodie kill? The people thus perſwaded all, bring in their pence apace, And giues their money vnto them, that néere the Boxe haue place. Who, leſt ſuſpition might ariſe of iugling or deceat, Do with their ſeales and writing both, confirme this pardon great: And take the name of ſuch as buy, and thoſe for whom they 〈◊〉 . Both of the men that liue, and ſuch as long before did die. The man reioyceing goeth his way, vnſkilfull of the guile, Though both himſelfe and eke his ſoule he therewith doth beguile. They on the other ſide do laugh, enioying thus their pray, And neyther here the liuing, nor the dead a whit do way. Herein where doth the hope appeare, of ſinnes forgiuen quight By Chriſt, and life obtayned here, and Sathan put to flight? Perhaps thou thinkeſt now their heartes are fully ſatiſfide, Tables and Images. And that ſo many merits bought, no further they prouide. Thou art deceyude: in euery Church are painted Tables founde, That faſtned are vnto the walles, or to the pillars rounde. Wherein the Virgin Marie fayre is counterfeyted right, Or elſe the Sauiour liuely drawne, appeares before the ſight. Their Images are alſo made, and caruen cunninglie, Where written haue the holy members of the Papacie, Whoſoeuer doth before this Image here deuoutly pray, And on his Beades the Pater and the Aue Mary ſay, He hath forgiueneſſe of his ſinnes, and pardon of his paine, Which pardon doth for many yeares in vertue full remaine. To this on euery ſide they runne, and worſhip reuerentlie, While as with bodie proſtrate on the ground, in duſt they lie. Is not this ſame the worſhipping of Idols very plaine Forbidden, by the worde of him that guides the ſtarrie raigne? Belles. If that the thunder chaunce to rore, and ſtormie tempeſt ſhake, A woonder is it for to ſée the wretches howe they quake, Howe that no fayth at all they haue, nor truſt in any thing, The Clarke doth all the Belles forthwith at once in Stéeple ring: With wondrous ſound and déeper farre, than he was woont before, Till in the loftie heauens darke, the thunder bray no more. Ratio. diuino. For in theſe Chriſtned belles they thinke, doth lie ſuch powre & might, As able is the tempeſt great, and ſtorme to vanquiſh quight. I ſawe my ſelfe at Numburg once, a towne in Toring coaſt, A Bell that with this title bolde, hir ſelfe did prowdly boaſt, By name I Mary called am, with ſound I put to flight The thunder crackes, and hurtfull ſtormes, and euery wicked ſpright. Such things when as theſe Belles can do, no wonder certainlie It is, if that the Papiſtes to their tolling alwayes flie. When haile, or any raging ſtorme, or tempeſt comes in ſight, Or thunder boltes, or lightning fierce that euery place doth ſmight: Beſides they Candles vp do light, of vertue like in all, And Willow braunches hallow, that they Palmes do vſe to call. This done they verily beléeue, the tempeſt nor the ſtorme, Can neyther hurt themſelues, nor yet their cattell, nor their corne. But ſome there be, and not a few, that dare not well commit Their liues to this, but vnderneath the ſtarres they ſéeke to ſit, For there (they ſay) the lightning can no kinde of creature ſmight, Nor fall vpon the féeble corſe of any fearefull wight. There are that hide themſelues in Caues, and vnder ground do lie, When as they heare the roring ſound, and rumbling in the ſkie. Where here appeares the confidence, and truſt vnto the hieſt? And hope in all aduerſitie caſt wholy vpon Chriſt? Where do they here commit themſelues, and all that they poſſeſſe, Vnto the will of God, as in theyr wordes they do expreſſe? Are not theſe Papiſtes Catholikes, and men appoynted well, That are defended in the ſtormes, by ſounde of braſen Bell? And ſteps of ſtayres, and braunches burnt, wt flames encompaſt round, And Candels light, and Caues, & dennes made vnderneath the ground? Such Gods, and ſuch defenders here, the heathen woont to haue, To whom in all their daunger they did flie themſelues to ſaue. Beſides they doe beléeue their ſinnes to be forgiuen quight, Holy water. By taking holy water here, whereof if there do light But one ſmall drop, it driueth out the helliſhe deuils all, Then which there can no greater griefe vnto the féend befall. Therefore they oftentymes do hurle and caſt abrode the ſame, Both on the people, and themſelues, and Papiſtes chiefe of name: Whoſe learning is aboue the reſt, with willing mindes prepare, To take the drops vpon their handes, and heads, vncouered bare: And euermore amidſt the Church, and in the Porch beſide, There ſtandes a Sprinckle, and a ſtocke, wherewith they may prouide, To driue away the fearefull féende, and to reſiſt their ſtrife, And for to waſh away the ſinnes, and faultes of wicked life. This water alſo caryed is into their houſes all, Wherewith they ſprinckle chambers, beds, and euery rotten wall. No man doth paſſe his threſholde, but before he goes abroade, Him ſelfe, and all his garments are, with holy water ſtroade. The vſe thereof is very great, almoſt in euery thing, And wonder none when as it doth ſuch force and vertue bring. The common people alſo licke vp ſalt, vnto this ende, And giue it to their children, and their cattell, to defende And kéepe them, that the Deuill haue no power to do them harme, Nor any miſchiefe on them light, nor any curſed charme. What néede haue theſe ſame men of Chriſt, that with ſo little paine, Can do ſuch wondrous workes, and to ſuch matters great attaine? They driue out ſprites, and wipe away eche ſinfull crime and fault, With little drops of water cleare, or eating vp of ſault. Munkry. Yet fully truſt they not to this, nor therewith are content, But deſperation many of them doth wretchedly torment, Bicauſe they finde not here ſufficient comfort perfitelie Agaynſt theyr ſinnes, the paynes of hell, and wrath of God on hie: Therefore to Monkry after all, do flie this people blinde, Suppoſing that herein conſiſtes the perfite peace of minde, And that our ſinnes with fooliſh Cowles, and déedes are done away, That vnto euerlaſting life it is the ſureſt ſtay. If bound vnto their treble vowe, they kéepe their faſting dayes, And prayers long appoynted them, and other fooliſh playes, And all their life long from the vſe of tender bathes they flie, And in their ſeuerall Sels, as do the Monkes Carthuſian lie. But others in their aged yeares, and readie now to die, Eſpecially the learnde and rich, and kings and princes hie: Do flie vnto S. Fraunces Cowle, as men beſide their minde, Whereby of all their ſinnes they thinke forgiueneſſe for to finde: None otherwiſe than if at Font they tooke their Chriſtendome, And borne a new to righteouſneſſe, and perfite life ſhould come. So with this ſacred wéede, they thinke moſt ſurely to appeare Before the face of God, with hope muſt vaine deceyued heare. Though all their tyme before were ſpent in beaſtly wickedneſſe, Without the Lorde and Chriſt, by whom we onely life poſſeſſe. Nowe tell me, doth this fayth and hope ſéeme Catholike to bée, And with the perfit worde of God and ſcriptures to agrée? Yet do not all theſe Saints auaile, nor merits dearly ſolde, Nor mans good workes, nor Pardons, Maſſe, nor all that I haue tolde. Funerals. They doubt as yet if that their ſinnes be clearely put away, Or whether God his angrie moode, and furie, doth allay: Euen as the Turkes and Infidels before haue alwayes donne, And euery wicked nation, and people vnder Sonne. For looke howe they doe ende their life, their ſinnes they do confeſſe Vnto the Prieſt, and are abſolude from all their wickedneſſe: According to their Pardons bought, which if they chaunce to lacke, Their merits and their owne good workes, are caſt vpon their backe, And all the paynes and puniſhments that hath vpon them light, In recompence whereof, their ſinnes are them forgiuen quight. Beſides the very bodie of Chriſt, they take into their mawes, Agaynſt the Deuill, and of hell the tooth and gréedie iawes: Whereby they alſo may be ſafe from that infernall paine Of Purgatorie flame, that they themſelues doe falſly faine. Yet more, the Saints being calde to helpe, they are anneald at length, A medcine not to be diſpiſde, of vertue great and ſtrength Agaynſt both ſinne and raging death, the reſt I ouerſlide, That euery man doth for his ſoule here carefully prouide. Yet quiet are they not with this, nor can they boldely ſay, That all their ſinnes forgiuen are, and clearely done away, Nor that the Lorde is pacifide, and pleaſed with them well, And they deliuered perfitely, from powre of death and hell. They doubt, they tremble, and they feare, that ſomthing yet remaines Of their offences, and the wrath of God with dreadfull paynes. Therefore they will that after death, a ſolemne obſequie Be made, with Dyrge ſong both day and night continuallie. Sixe hundreth Maſſes to be ſayd, and Tapers burning bright, And Monkes, and Prieſtes with them to go to graue in doolefull plight, By whoſe good prayers their helliſhe paynes may there releaſed bée, And ſoules there hence mount to the ſkie, where naught is elſe but glée. They alſo hier folkes to ſay the Pſalter ſpéedily, And money vnto Churches giue, and to the pouerty, And vnto Monkes and other Prieſtes, who dayly haue this gaine, With prayers and merits to ſet frée the guiltie ſoule from paine: And bring them to eternall ioy, to this belongs alwayes, That they at euery ſeuennights ende, and euery thirtie dayes, And at the ende of euery yeare, doe here commaund and will, Their offrings, and their ceremonies, to be obſerued ſtill. So little hope and truſt they haue eternall life to gaine, Or to obtaine his fauour, that doth guide the ſtarrie raigne. For ignoraunt of Chriſt they are, and of his office hie, His merits here, and wherefore on the Croſſe ſo painfullie He ſuffred death, and roſe againe, O miſerable men, That wauer ſtill, and haue no certaine hope nor fayth in them, What ende is dewe? what recompence doth here remaine behinde But onely iuſt damnation, for this their doubtfull minde? But all the popiſhe ſort doth doubt, and teach men eke to doubt, If we be righteous, if our ſinnes be cléerely blotted out: If that the father fauour vs, and through his onely ſonne, Hath made vs heare his heyres of euerlaſting life to come. And thinkſt thou theſe are Catholikes? or Church of Chriſt aright, That hearken not to Chriſt, but ouerthrow his triumph quight, And eke his death, and rather had to euery creature flie, Than vnto him that hath the rule of euery thing from hie? I had as lieue the Turkiſh lawe and doctrine to profeſſe, As with the papiſt to beleue, that teach ſuch wickedneſſe. What matter is it whether ſect thou foloweſt in thy workes, For papiſtes do no more beleue in Chriſt, than do the Turkes. The Fayth of both is fonde and vaine, and both alike in ſhowe, The name alone of Chriſt and all his doings here do knowe. In worſhip, life, and fayth, they doe his powre and force deny, And do diſpiſe his benifites, and caſt them cléerely by.
The popiſh Kingdome The fourth booke. AS Papiſtes doe beleue and teach the vayneſt things that bée, So with their doctrine and their fayth, their life doth iump agrée. Their feaſts & all their holidayes they kepe throughout the yeare Are full of vile Idolatrie, and heathenlike appeare: Whereby though they do nothing teach, but ſhould their doctrine hide, (Which yet in volumes more than one, may openly be ſpide) Thou eaſily mayſt knowe whether true Catholikes they bée, And onely truſt in Chriſt, and kéepe th'aſſured veritée. Be therefore here a perfite Iudge, and all things warely way, With equall ballance, for before thine eyes I here will lay Moſt plainly, though not all (for who is able that to tell,) But ſuch as beſt are knowne to vs in Germanie that dwell. And firſt betwixt the dayes they make no little difference, For all be not of vertue like, nor like preheminence. Con. 26. q. . Si quis. Non ob er. Quis. q. 2. Nos planet. Sed & illud q. 5. Non liceat. But ſome of them Egyptian are, and full of ieopardée, And ſome againe beſide the reſt, both good and luckie bée. Like diffrence of the nights they make, as if th'almightie king, That made them all, not gracious were to them in euery thing. Beſide they giue attentiue eare to blinde Aſtronomars, About th'aſpects in euery howre of ſundrie ſhining ſtars: And vnderneath what Planet euery man is borne and bred, What good or euill fortune doth hang ouer euery hed. Hereby they thinke aſſuredly to know what ſhall befall, As men that haue no perfite fayth nor truſt in God at all: But thinke that euery thing is wrought and wholy guided here, By moouing of the Planets, and the whirling of the Speare. No vaine they pearſe nor enter in the bathes at any day, Nor pare their nayles, nor from their hed do cut the heare away: They alſo put no childe to nurſe, nor mend with doung their ground, Nor medicine do receyue to make their craſed bodies ſound, Nor any other thing they do, but earneſtly before They marke the Moone how ſhe is placde, and ſtandeth euermore: And euery planet howe they riſe, and ſet in eche degrée, Which things vnto the perfite fayth of Chriſt repugnant bée. Which firſt I ſhowe, leaſt in my courſe I ſhould be driuen plaine, To call to minde theſe fooliſhe toyes, now to my theame againe. Three weekes before the day whereon was borne the Lorde of grace, Aduent. And on the Thurſday Boyes and Girles do runne in euery place, And bounce and beate at euery doore, with blowes and luſtie ſnaps, And crie, the aduent of the Lorde not borne as yet perhaps. And wiſhing to the neighbours all, that in the houſes dwell, A happie yeare, and euery thing to ſpring and proſper well: Here haue they peares, and plumbs, & pence, ech man giues willinglée, For theſe thrée nightes are alwayes thought, vnfortunate to bée: Wherein they are afrayde of ſprites, and cankred witches ſpight, And dreadfull deuils blacke and grim, that then haue chiefeſt might. In theſe ſame dayes yong wanton Eyrles that meete for mariage ée, Doe ſearch to know the names of them that ſhall their huſbandes bee. Foure Onyons, fiue, or eight, they take and make in euery one, Such names as they do fanſie moſt, and beſt do thinke vpon. Thus néere the Chimney them they ſet, and that ſame Onyon than, That firſt doth ſproute, doth ſurely beare the name of their good man. Their huſbandes nature eke they ſéeke to know, and all his guiſe, When as the Sunne hath hid himſelfe, and left the ſtarrie ſkies, Vnto ſome woodſtacke do they go, and while they there do ſtande, Eche one drawes out a faggot ſticke, the next that commes to hande, Which if it ſtreight and euen be, and haue no knots at all, A gentle huſband then they thinke ſhall ſurely to them fall. But if it fowle and crooked be, and knottie ere and theare, A crabbed churliſh huſband then, they earneſtly do feare. Theſe things the wicked Papiſtes beare, and ſuffer willingly, Bicauſe they neyther do the ende, nor fruites of faith eſpie: And rather had the people ſhould obey their fooliſh luſt, Than truely God to know, and in him here alone to truſt. Chriſtmaſſe daye. Then comes the day wherein the Lorde did bring his birth to paſſe, Whereas at midnight vp they riſe, and euery man to Maſſe. This time ſo holy counted is, that diuers earneſtly Do thinke the waters all to wine are chaunged ſodainly: In that same houre that Chriſt himſelfe was borne, and came to light, And vnto water ſtreight againe, tranſformde and altred quight. There are beſide that mindfully the money ſtill do watch, That firſt to aultar commes, which then they priuily do ſnatch. The Prieſtes leaſt other ſhould it haue, takes oft the ſame away, Whereby they thinke throughout the yeare to haue good lucke in play, And not to loſe: then ſtraight at game till daylight do they ſtriue, To make ſome preſent proofe how well their hallowde pence wil thriue. Thrée Maſſes euery Prieſt doth ſing vpon that ſolemne day, With offrings vnto euery one, that ſo the more may play. This done, a woodden childe in clowtes is on the aultar ſet About the which both boyes and gyrles do daunce and trymly iet, And Carrols ſing in prayſe of Chriſt, and for to helpe them heare, The Organs aunſwere euery verſe, with ſwéete and ſolemne cheare. The Prieſtes doe rore aloude, and round about the parentes ſtande, To ſée the ſport, and with their voyce do helpe them and their hande. Thus woont the Coribants perhaps vpon the mountaine Ide, The crying noyſe of Iupiter new borne with ſong to hide, To daunce about him round, and on their braſen pannes to beate, Leaſt that his father finding him, ſhould him deſtroy and eate. Then followeth Saint Stephens day, whereon doth euery man, Saint Steuen. His horſes iaunt and courſe abrode, and ſwiftly as he can. Vntill they doe extréemely ſweate, and than they let them blood, For this being done vpon this day, they ſay doth do them good, And kéepes them from all maladies and ſickneſſe through the yeare, As if that Steuen any time tooke charge of horſes heare. Next Iohn the ſonne of Zebedee hath his appoynted day, Who once by cruell tyraunts will, Saint Iohn. conſtrayned was they ſay Strong poyſon vp to drinke, therefore the Papiſtes doe beleeue, That whoſo puts their truſt in him, no poyſon them can gréeue. The wine beſide that halowed is, in worſhip of his name, The Prieſtes doe giue the people that bring money for the ſame. And after with the ſelfe ſame wine are little manchets made, Agaynſt the boyſtrous winter ſtormes, and ſundrie ſuch like trade. The men vpon this ſolemne day, do take this holy wine, To make them ſtrong, ſo do the maydes to make them faire and fine. ••• rmaſſe. Then comes the day that calles to minde the cruell Herodes ſtrife, Who ſéeking Chriſt to kill, the king of euerlaſting life, Deſtroyde the little infants yong, a beaſt vnmercileſſe, And put to death all ſuch as were of two yeares age or leſſe. To them the ſinfull wretcheſſe crie, and earneſtly do pray, To get them pardon for their faultes, and wipe their ſinnes away. The Parentes when this day appeares, doe beate their children all, (Though nothing they deſerue) and ſeruaunts all to beating fall, And Monkes do whip eche other well, or elſe their Prior great, Or Abbot mad, doth take in hande their bréeches all to beat: In worſhip of theſe Innocents, or rather as we ſée, In honour of the curſed king, that did this crueltée. Newyeares day. The next to this is Newyeares day, whereon to euery frende, They coſtly preſents in do bring, and Neweyeares giftes do ſende. Theſe giftes the huſband giues his wife, and father eke the childe, And maiſter on his men beſtowes the like, with fauour milde. And good beginning of the yeare they wiſhe and wiſhe againe, According to the auncient guiſe of heathen people vaine. Theſe eight dayes no man doth require his dettes of any man, Their tables do they furniſh out with all the meate they can: With Marchpaynes, Tartes, & Cuſtards great, they drink with ſtaring eyes, They rowte and reuell, féede and feaſt, as merry all as Pyes: As if they ſhould at th'entrance of this newe yeare hap to die, Yet would they haue theyr bellyes full, and auncient friendes allie. Twelfe day. The wiſe mens day here foloweth, who out from Perſia farre, Brought gifts and preſents vnto Chriſt, conducted by a ſtarre. The Papiſtes do beléeue that theſe were kings, and ſo them call, And do affirme that of the ſame there were but thrée in all. Here ſundrie friendes togither come, and méete in companie, And make a king amongſt themſelues by voyce or deſtinie: Who after princely guiſe appoyntes, his officers alway, Then vnto feaſting doe they go, and long time after play: Vpon their bordes in order thicke the daintie diſhes ſtande, Till that their purſes emptie be, and creditors at hande. Their children herein follow them, and chooſing princes here, With pompe and great ſolemnitie, they méete and make good chere: With money eyther got by ſtealth, or of their parents e t, That ſo they may be traynde to knowe both ryot here and theft. Then alſo euery houſholder, to his abilitie, Doth make a mightie Cake, that may ſuffice his companie: Herein a pennie doth he put, before it come to fire, This he deuides according as his houſholde doth require, And euery péece diſtributeth, as round about they ſtand, Which in their names vnto the poore is giuen out of hand: But who ſo chaunceth on the péece wherein the money lies, Is counted king amongſt them all, and is with ſhowtes and cries Exalted to the heauens vp, who taking chalke in hande, Doth make a croſſe on euery beame, and rafters as they ſtande: Great force and powre haue theſe agaynſt all iniuryes and harmes Of curſed deuils, ſprites, and bugges, of coniurings and charmes. So much this king can do, ſo much the Croſſes brings to paſſe, Made by ſome ſeruant, maide, or childe, or by ſome fooliſh aſſe. Twiſe ſixe nightes then from Chriſtmaſſe, they do count with diligence, Wherein eche maiſter in his houſe doth burne vp Franckenſence: And on the Table ſettes a loafe, when night approcheth nere, Before the Coles, and Franckenſence to be perfumed there: Firſt bowing downe his heade he ſtandes, and noſe and eares, and eyes He ſmokes, and with his mouth receyue the fume that doth ariſe: Whom followeth ſtreight his wife, and doth the ſame full ſolemly, And of their children euery one, and all their family: Which doth preſerue they ſay their téeth, and noſe, and eyes, and care, From euery kind of maladie, and ſickneſſe all the yeare. When euery one receyued hath this odour great and ſmall, Then one takes vp the pan with Coales, and Franckenſence and all, An other takes the loafe, whom all the reaſt do follow here, And round about the houſe they go, with torch or taper clere, That neither bread nor meat do want, nor witch with dreadful charme, Haue powre to hurt their children, or to do their cattell harme. There are that thrée nightes onely do perfourme this fooliſh geare, To this intent, and thinke themſelues in ſafetie all the yeare. To Chriſt dare none commit himſelfe. And in theſe dayes beſide, They iudge what weather all the yeare ſhall happen and betide: Aſcribing to ech day a month, and at this preſent time, The youth in euery place doe flocke, and all appareld fine, With Pypars through the ſtreetes they runne, and ſing at euery dore, In commendation of the man, rewarded well therefore: Which on themſelues they do beſtowe, or on the Church, as though The people were not plagude with Roges and begging Friers enough. There Cities are, where boyes and gyrles togither ſtill do runne, About the ſtréete with like, as ſoone as night beginnes to come, And bring abrode their waſſell bowles, who well rewarded bée, With Cakes and Chéeſe, and great good cheare, and money plentiouſlée. Saint Agnes. Then commes in place ſaint Agnes day, which here in Germanie, Is not ſo much eſtéemde, nor kept with ſuch ſolemnitie: But in the Popiſh Court it ſtandes in paſſing hie degrée, As ſpring and head of wondrous gaine, and great commoditée. For in ſaint Agnes Church vpon this day while Maſſe they ſing, Two Lambes as white as ſnowe, the Nonnes do yearely vſe to bring: And when the Agnus chaunted is, vpon the aultar hie, (For in this thing there hidden is a ſolemne myſterie) They offer them. The ſeruaunts of the Pope when this is done, Do put them into Paſture good till ſhearing time be come. Then other wooll they mingle with theſe holy fleeſes twaine, Whereof being ſponne and dreſt, are made the Pals of paſſing gaine: Thrée fingars commonly in bredth, and wrought in compaſſe ſo, As on the Biſhops ſhoulders well they round about may go. Theſe Pals thus on the ſhoulders ſet, both on the backe and breſt, Haue labels hanging ſomething lowe, the endes whereof are dreſt, And typte with plates of weightie lead, and veſture blacke arayde, And laſt of all to make an ende, with knots are ſurely ſtayde. O ioyfull day of Agnes, and to Papiſtes full of gaine, O precious worthie Lambes, O wooll moſt fortunate againe. O happie they that ſpin and weaue the ſame, whoſe handes may touch This holy wooll, and make theſe Pals of price and vertue ſuch. For by the ſame the Biſhops haue their full aucthoritie, And Metropolitanes are forced, theſe dearely for to buie. Beſtowing ſometime eight, or ten, yea thirtie thouſand crownes, Ere halfe the yeare be full expirde, for theſe ſame pelting gownes. Ne can they vſe the Pall that was their prediceſſors late, Nor play the Biſhop, nor receyue the Primates his eſtate, Till that he get one of his owne, with ſuch like ſubtiltie, The Pope doth all men pow e, without reſpect of Simonie. Perchaunce ſuch force doth not in theſe ſame holy Lambes remaine, Nor of it ſelfe the wooll ſo much, nor all the weauers paine, As theſe ſame powlers ſéeme to ſay: for thus theſe palles being wrought, Are ſtreight waies to S. Peters Church by hands of Deacons brought, And vnderneath the aultar all the night they buryed lie, Among ſaint Peters reliques and ſaint Paules his fellow bie. From hence the ſacred iuyce they draw, and powre celeſtiall, As if the holy ghoſt ſhould giue theſe Clarkes his vertue all. Straunge Reliques ſure, and bodies eke of paſſing ſanctitie, That to ſuch lowſie clokes can giue ſo great aucthoritie. Who would not more eſtéeme you nowe then when you here did liue, When as no clokes at all you did vnto your Biſhops giue, Nor fed ſo many paunches great, nor ſhauen companies, With foule illuſions and deceytes and ſhameleſſe ſuttelties? Now ſiluer do you giue and heapes of golde togither rake From euery realme, and for a denne of théeues prouiſion make. Farre be it from me that I ſhould thus of you beléeue or ſay: But what ſo holy in this worlde hath bene, or is this day, That this ſame wicked Papacie doth not conuert to gaine? Th'almightie Lord himſelfe aboue in ſafetie cannot raigne. Now here the Papiſtes do declare from whom at firſt did ſpring, The vſe of this ſame pelting Pall, and this vnſéemely thing. And here a thouſand lyes they make, from auncient fathers olde, They ſay the firſt inuention came, ne dare they yet be bolde To burthen Peter with the ſame, for feare they faint in proofe, But to reiect, nor probably, yet farther of aloofe. Such folly and ambicion great, whereat you wonder may. For Linus he that Peter firſt ſuccéeded as they ſay, And guyded next the ſea of Rome, firſt tooke this ſame in hande, That woollen garment might in ſtéede of lynnen Ephod ſtande. But where was Agnes at this tyme? who offred vp and how, The two white Lambes? where then was Maſſe as it is vſed now? Yea where was then the popiſh ſtate, and dreadfull Monarchie? Sure in ſaint Auſtens time, there were no Palles at Rome to ſée: When Biſhops all had equall powre, although as ſtories tell, The romiſhe Biſhop did the reaſt in worthineſſe excell. Thus Papiſtes neuer count it ſhame, nor any fault to lie, So they may get great ſummes of golde, and rayſe their kingdome hie. Candelmaſſe. Then comes the day wherein the virgin offred Chriſt vnto The father chiefe, as Moyſes law commaunded hir to do. Thou numbers great of Tapers large, both men and women beare To Church, being halowed there with pomp, & dreadful words to heare. This done, eche man his Candell lightes, where chiefeſt ſéemeth hée, Whoſe taper greateſt may be ſéene, and fortunate to bée: Whoſe Candell burneth cleare and bright, a wondrous force and might Doth in theſe Candels lie, which if at any time they light, They ſure beleue that neyther ſtorme nor tempeſt dare abide, Nor thunder in the ſkies be heard, nor any deuils ſpide, Nor fearefull ſprites that walke by night, nor hurts of froſt or haile, How eaſily can theſe fellowes all theſe hurly burlyes quaile? That néedleſſe is it nowe to put their truſt in Chriſt alone, Or to commit all things to him that fittes in chiefeſt throne. Blase. Then followeth good ſir Blaſe, who doth a waxen Candell giue, And holy water to his men, whereby they ſafely liue. I diuers Barrels oft haue ſéene, drawne out of water cleare, Through one ſmall bleſſed bone of this ſame holy martyr heare: And caryed thence to other townes and Cities farre away, Ech ſuperſtition doth require ſuch earneſt kinde of play: But in the meane time no man ſéekes for Chriſt and God aboue, Nor dare content themſelues to haue his fauour and his loue. Shrouetide. Now when at length the pleasant time of Shrouetide comes in place, And cruell faſting dayes at hande approch with ſolemne grace: Then olde and yong are both as mad, as gheſtes of Bacchus feaſt, And foure dayes long they tipple ſquare, and féede and neuer reaſt. Downe goes the Hogges in euery place, and puddings euery wheare Do ſwarme: the Dice are ſhakte and toſt, and Cardes apace they teare: In euery houſe are ſhowtes and cryes, and mirth, and reuell route, And daintie tables ſpred, and all be ſet with gheſtes aboute: With ſundrie playes and Chriſtmaſſe games, & feare and ſhame away, The tongue is ſet at libertie, and hath no kinde of ſtay. All thinges are lawfull then and done, no pleaſure paſſed by, That in their mindes they can deuiſe, as if they then ſhould die: The chiefeſt man is he, and one that moſt deſerueth prayſe, Among the reſt that can finde out the fondeſt kinde of playes. On him they looke and gaze vpon, and laugh with luſtie cheare, Whom boyes do follow, crying foole, and ſuch like other geare. He in the meane time thinkes himſelfe a wondrous worthie man, Not mooued with their wordes nor cryes, do whatſoeuer they can. Some ſort there are that runne with ſtaues, or fight in armour fine, Or ſhew the people fooliſhe toyes, for ſome ſmall péece of wine. Eche partie hath his fauourers, and faythfull friendes enowe, That readie are to turne themſelues, as fortune liſt to bowe. But ſome againe the dreadfull ſhape of deuils on them take, And chaſe ſuch as they méete, and make poore boyes for feare to quake. Some naked runne about the ſtréetes, their faces hid alone, With viſars cloſe, that ſo diſguiſde, they might be knowne of none. Both men and women chaunge their wéede, the men in maydes aray, And wanton wenches dreſt like men, doe trauell by the way, And to their neighbours houſes go, or where it likes them beſt, Perhaps vnto ſome auncient friend or olde acquainted gheſt, Vnknowne, and ſpeaking but fewe wordes, the meate deuour they vp, That is before them ſet, and cleane they ſwinge of euery cup. Some runne about the ſtréets attyrde like Monks, and ſome like kings, Accompanied with pompe and garde, and other ſtately things. Some hatch yong fooles as hennes do egges with good and ſpéedie lucke, Or as the Gooſe doth vſe to do, or as the quacking ducke. Some like wilde beaſtes doe runne abrode in ſkinnes that diuers bée Arayde, and eke with lothſome ſhapes, that dreadfull are to ſée: They counterfet both Beares and Woolues, and Lions fierce in ſight, And raging Bulles. Some play the Cranes with wings & ſtilts vpright. Some like the filthie forme of Apes, and ſome like fooles are dreſt, Which beſt beſéeme theſe Papiſtes all, that thus kéepe Bacchus feaſt. But others beare a torde, that on a Cuſhion soft they lay, And one there is that with a flap doth kéepe the flies away. I would there might an other be an officer of thoſe, Whoſe roome might ſerue to take away the ſcent from euery noſe. Some others make a man all ſtuft with ſtraw or ragges within, Apparayled in dublet faire, and hoſen paſſing trim: Whom as a man that lately dyed of honeſt life and fame, In blanket hid they beare about, and ſtreightwayes with the ſame They hurle him vp into the ayre, not ſuffring him to fall, And this they doe at diuers tymes the Citie ouer all. I ſhew not here their daunces yet, with filthie ieſtures mad, Nor other wanton ſportes that on theſe holydayes are had. There places are where ſuch as hap to come within this dore, Though olde acquainted friendes they be, or neuer ſeene before And ſay not firſt here by your leaue, both in and out I go, They binde their handes behinde their backes, nor any difference tho Of man or woman is there made, but Baſons ringing great, Before them do they daunce with ioy, and ſport in euery ſtreat. There are that certaine prayers haue that on the Tueſday fall, Againſt the quartaine Ague, and the other Feuers all. But others than ſowe Onyon ſeede, the greater to be ſéene, And Perſley eke, and Lettys both, to haue them alwayes gréene. Of truth I loth for to declare the fooliſhe toyes and trickes, That in theſe dayes are done by theſe ſame popiſh Catholickes: If ſnowe lie déepe vpon the ground, and almoſt thawing bée, Then fooles in number great thou ſhalt in euery corner ſee: For balles of ſnow they make, and them one at another caſt, Till that the conquerde part doth yéelde and run away at laſt. No Matrone olde nor ſober man can fréely by them come, At home he muſt abide that will theſe wanton fellowes ſhonne. Beſides the noble men, the riche, and men of hie degrée, Leaſt they with common people ſhould not ſéeme ſo mad to bée, There wagons finely framde before, and for this matter méete, And luſtie horſe and ſwift of pace, well trapt from head to féete They put therein, about whoſe necke and euery place before, A hundred gingling belles do hang, to make his courage more. Their wiues and children therein ſet, behinde themſelues do ſtande, Well armde with whips, and holding faſt the bridle in their hande, With all their force throughout the ſtréetes and market place they ron, As if ſome whirlewinde mad, or tempeſt great from ſkies ſhould come. As faſt as may be from the ſteates, th'amazed people flye, And giues them place while they about doe runne continually. Yea ſometime legges or armes they breake, and horſe and carte and all They ouerthrow, with ſuch a force, they in their courſe doe fall. Much leſſe they man or childe doe ſpare, that méetes them in the waye, Nor they content themſelues to vſe this madneſſe all the daye: But euen till midnight holde they on, their paſtimes for to make, Whereby they hinder men of ſléepe, and cauſe their heades to ake. But all this ſame they care not for, nor doe eſtéeme a heare, So they may haue their pleaſure ſtill, and fooliſh wanton geare. The Wedneſday next a ſolemne day, to Church they early go, To ſponge out all the fooliſh déedes by them committed ſo, Aſhwedneſday. They money giue, and on their heddes, the Prieſtes doth aſhes lay, And with his holy water waſheth all their ſinnes away: In woondrous ſort againſt the veniall ſinnes doth profite this, Yet here no ſtay of madneſſe now, nor ende of follie is, With mirth to dinner ſtraight they go, and to their woonted playe, And on their deuills ſhapes they put, and ſprightiſh fonde araye. Some ſort there are that mourning go, with lantarnes in their hande, While in the day time Titan bright, amid the ſkies doth ſtande: And ſéeke their ſhroftide Bachanals, ſtill crying euery where, Where are our feaſtes become? alas the cruell faſtes appere. Some beare about a herring on a ſtaffe, and lowde doe rore, Herrings, herrings, ſtincking herrings, puddings now no more. And hereto ioyne they fooliſh playes, and doltiſh dogrell rimes, And what beſide they can inuent, belonging to the times. Some other beare vpon a ſtaffe their fellowes horſed hie, And carie them vnto ſome ponde, or running riuer nie, That what ſo of their fooliſh feaſt, doth in them yet remayne, May vnderneth the floud be plungde, and waſht away againe. Some children doe intiſe with Nuttes, and peares abrode to play, And ſinging through the towne they go, before them all the way. In ſome place all the youthfull flocke, with minſtrels doe repaire, And out of euery houſe they plucke the girles, and maydens fayre. And them to plough they ſtraitwayes put, with whip one doth them hit, Another holdes the plough in hande, the Minſtrell here doth ſit Amidde the ſame, and drounken ſonges, with gaping mouth he ſings, Whome foloweth one that ſowes out ſande, or aſhes fondely flings. When thus they through the ſtréetes haue plaide, the man yt guideth all Doth driue both plough & maydens through ſome ponde or riuer ſmall: And dabbled all with durt, and wringing wette as they may bée, To ſupper calles, and after that to daunſing luſtilee. The follie that theſe dayes is vſde, can no man well declare, Their wanton paſtimes, wicked actes, and all their franticke fare. On Sunday at the length they leaue, their mad and fooliſh game, And yet not ſo, but that they drinke, and dice away the ſame. Thus at the laſt to Bacchus is this day appoynted cleare, Lent. Then (O poore wretches) faſtings long approching doe appeare: In fourtie dayes they neyther milke, nor fleſhe, nor egges doe eate, And butter with their lippes to touch, is thought a treſpaſſe great: Both Ling and ſaltfiſhe they deuoure, and fiſhe of euery ſorte, Whoſe purſe is full, and ſuch as liue in great and welthie porte: But onyans, browne bread, léekes and ſalt, muſt poore men dayly gnaw And fry their oten cakes in oyle. The Pope deuiſde this law For ſinnes, th'offending people here from hell and death to pull, Beléeuing not that all their ſinnes, were earſt forgiuen full. Yet here theſe wofull ſoules he helpes, and taking money faſt, Doth all things ſet at libertie, both egges and fleſh at laſt. The Images and pictures now are couerde ſecretlie, In euery Church, and from the beames, the roofe and rafters hie Hanges painted linnen clothes that to the people doth declare, The wrath and furie great of God, and times that faſted are. Then all men are conſtrainde their ſinnes, by cruell law to tell, And threatned if they hide but one, with dredfull death and hell. From hence no little gaines vnto the Prieſtes doth ſtill ariſe, And of the Pope the ſhambles doth appeare in beaſtly wiſe. Care ſunday. Now comes the ſunday forth, of this ſame great and holy faſt, Here doth the Pope the ſhriuen bleſſe, abſoluing them at laſt, From all their ſinnes, and of the Iewes the law he doth alow, As if the power of God had not ſufficient bene till now. Or that the law of Moyſes here, were ſtill of force and might, In theſe ſame happie dayes when Chriſt, doth raigne wt heauenly light. The boyes with ropes of ſtraw doth frame an vgly monſter here, And call him death, whom from the towne, with prowd & ſolemne chere To hilles and valleyes they conuey, and villages thereby, From whence they ſtragling doe returne, well beaten commonly. Thus children alſo beare with ſpeares, their Cracknelles round about, And two they haue, whereof the one is called Sommer ſtout: Apparalde all in gréene, and dreſt in youthfull fine araye, The other Winter, clad in moſſe with heare all hoare and graye: Theſe two togither fight, of which the Palme doth Sommer get, From hence to meate they go, and all with wine their whiſtles wet. The other toyes that in this time, of holly faſtes appeare, I loth to tell, nor order like, as vſed euery wheare. Here comes that worthie day wherein, our ſauior Chriſt is thought, To come vnto Ieruſalem, on aſſes ſhoulders brought: Palme Sunday. When as againe theſe Papiſtes fonde, their fooliſh pageantes haue, With pompe and great ſolemnitie, and countnaunce wondrous graue. A woodden Aſſe they haue, and Image great that on him rides, But vnderneath the Aſſes féete, a table broade there ſlides, Being borne on whéeles, which ready dreſt, and al things méete therfore The Aſſe is brought abroade and ſet before the Churches doore: The people all do come and bowes of trees and palmes they bere, Which things againſt the tempeſt great, the Parſon coniures there, And ſtraytwayes downe before the Aſſe, vpon his face he lies, Whome there an other Prieſt doth ſtrike with rodde of largeſt ſiſe: He riſing vp, two lubbours great vpon their faces fall, In ſtraunge attire and lothſomely, with filthie tune they ball: Who when againe they riſen are, with ſtretching out their hande, They poynt vnto the woodden knight, and ſinging as they ſtande Declare that that is he that came, into the worlde to ſaue, And to redéeme ſuch as in him their hope aſſured haue: And euen the ſame that long agone while in the ſtreate he roade, The people mette, and Oliue bowes ſo thicke before hym ſtroade. This being ſoung, the people caſt the braun hes as they paſſe, Some part vpon the Image, and ſome part vpon the Aſſe. Before whoſe féete a wondrous heape, of bowes and braunches ly, This done into the Church he ſtrayght, is drawne full ſolemly: The ſhauen Prieſtes before them marche, the people follow faſt, Still ſtriuing who ſhall gather firſt the bowes that downe are caſt: For falſely they beléeue that theſe, haue force and vertue great, Againſt the rage of winter ſtormes, and thunders ſlaſhing heate. Are Idoles worſhipt otherwiſe, are theſe not wicked things? Euen I my ſelfe haue earſt behelde, both wiſe and mightie Kings Defilde with this religion vile, that on their knées haue knéelde, Vnto theſe ſtockes, and honour due to God, to them did yéelde. In ſome place wealthie Citizens, and men of ſober chere For no ſmall ſumme doe hire this Aſſe, with them about to bere, And manerly they vſe the ſame, not ſuffering any by, To touch this Aſſe, nor to preſume vnto his preſence ny: For they ſuppoſe that in this thing, they Chriſt doe highly ſerue, And well of him accepted are, and great rewardes deſerue. If any man ſhall happe to thinke, them Aſſes here in this, I ſure beléeue he is not much deceyude, nor thinkes amis. When as the Prieſtes and people all haue ended this the ſport, The boyes doe after dinner come, and to the Church reſort: The Sexten pleaſde with price, and looking well no harme be done, They take the Aſſe, and through the ſtréetes, & crooked lanes they rone, Whereas they common verſes ſing, according to the guiſe, The people giuing money, breade, and egges of largeſt ciſe. Of this their gaines they are compelde, the maiſter halfe to giue, Leaſt he alone without his portion of the Aſſe ſhoulde liue. Maundy Thurſday. From Thurſeday then till Eaſter come, the fondeſt toyes haue place Wherin theſe cathlikes think themſelues, great men of wōdrous grace Firſt thrée dayes ſpace the belles are wilde, in ſilence for to lie, When from the toppes of hawtie towres, with clappers lowd they crie. The boyes in euery ſtreat doe runne, and noyſes great they make, While as in calling men to Church their wooden clappers ſhake. Thre nightes at midnight vp they riſe, their Mattens for to heare, Appoynted well with clubbes and ſtaues, and ſtones in order theare: The Sexten ſtraightwayes putteth out the candles ſpéedely, And ſtraight the Prieſt with ruſtie throte, alowde begins to cry. Then furious rage begins to ſpring, and hurlyburly riſe, On pewes and deſkes and ſeates they bounce, & beate in dredfullwiſe: Thou wouldſt ſuppoſe they were poſſeſt, with ſprightes and deuills all, Or fury ſuch as forceth them, that vpon Baccus call. Some beaten downe with clubbes and ſtaues, amongſt the pewes do ly And others almoſt brainde with ſtones, or wounded mortally. Well ſerues the darckeneſſe for theſe déedes, and thereto doth agrée, The faſhions like of euery one, that thus enraged bee. Here wicked Iudas all to torne, with vile reproches lies, And Marie in the darcke is calde vpon with childiſh cries. That ſhe be mercifull and helpe, and heale the faultes that bée, And through hir powre deliuer them, from hurt and miſerée. Theſe things vnto theſe feaſtes belonges, the candles being light, An Image faſtned to a croſſe is caried all vpright: A lanterne rounde about his necke, is hangde to ſh w the way, Are not theſe popiſh fooliſh toyes, a pretie kinde of play? This day the oyle and glaſſes of the Biſhop hallowed bée, And twiſe thrée times ſaluting them, he lowly bendes his knée. The Cannons after doe the ſame, with laughter wouldſt thou faint, And woonder farre to ſée them make, their ſpéecheleſſe glaſſe a ſaint. Their dinner done, from th'aultar all their coſtly clothes they take, And waſh it, rubbing it with bowes, and bromes that they doe make Then water on they powre and wine croſſwiſe there on they lay, And to the patron of ech aultar, humbly doe they pray, That they vouchſafe to looke vpon theyr ſeruaunts worſhipping, And to aſwage the furie great, of Ioue the thundring King. And here the Monkes their maundie make, with ſundrie ſolemne rights And ſignes of great humilitie, and wondrous pleaſaunt fights. Ech one the others féete doth waſh, and wipe them cleane and drie, With hatefull minde, and ſecret frawde, that in their heartes doth lye As if that Chriſt with his examples, did theſe thinges require, And not to helpe our brethren here, with zeale and frée deſire, Ech one ſupplying others want, in all things that they may, As he himſelfe a ſeruaunt made, to ſerue vs euery way. Then ſtrait the loaues doe walke, and pottes in euery place they ſkinke Wherewith the holy fathers oft, to pleaſaunt damſels drinke, And ſure with no diſſembling heart, for true as ſtéele they bée, And often times they put in proofe their great fidelitée. Good friday. Two Prieſtes the next day following, vpon their ſhoulders beare, The Image of the Crucifix, about the altar neare: Being clad in coape of crimozen die, and dolefully they ſing: At length before the ſteps his coate pluckt of they ſtraight him bring And vpon Turkey Carpettes lay him downe full tenderly, With cuſhions vnderneath his heade, and pillowes heaped hie: Then flat vpon the grounde they fall, and kiſſe both hande and féete, And worſhip ſo this woodden God, with honour farre vnméete. Then all the ſhauen ſort falles downe, and foloweth them herein, As workemen chiefe of wickedneſſe, they firſt of all begin: And after them the ſimple ſoules, the common people come, And worſhip him with diuers giftes, as Golde, and ſiluer ſome: And others corne or egges againe, to poulſhorne perſons ſwéete, And eke a long deſired price, for wicked worſhip méete. How are the Idoles worſhipped, if this religion here Be Catholike, and like the ſpowes of Chriſt accounted dere? Beſides with Images the more, their pleaſure here to take. And Chriſt that euery where doth raigne, a laughing ſtocke to make, An other Image doe they get, like one but newly deade, With legges ſtretcht out at length and handes, vpon his body ſpreade: And him with pompe and ſacred ſong, they beare vnto his graue, His bodie all being wrapt in lawne, and ſilkes and ſarcenet braue, The boyes before with clappers go, and filthie noyſes make, The Sexten beares the light, the people hereof knowledge take: And downe they knéele, or kiſſe the grounde, their handes helde vp abrod And knocking on their breaſtes they make, this woodden blocke a God. And leaſt in graue he ſhoulde remaine, without ſome companie, The ſinging bread is layde with him, for more idolatrie: The Prieſt the Image worſhips firſt, as falleth to his turne, And franckenſence and ſwéete perfumes, before the breade doth burne: With tapers all the people come, and at the barriars ſtay, Where downe vpon their knées they fall, and night and day they pray: And violets and euery kinde of flowres about the graue They ſtraw, and bring in all their giftes, and preſents that they haue. The ſinging men their Dirges chaunt, as if ſome guiltie ſoule, Were buried there, that thus they may, the people better poule. On Eaſter eue the fire all, is quencht in euery place, Eaſter eue. And freſh againe from out the flint, is fetcht with ſolemne grace: The Prieſt doth halow this againſt great daungers many one, A brande whereof doth euery man with gréedie minde take home, That when the fearefull ſtorme appeares, or tempeſt blacke ariſe, By lighting this he ſafe may be, from ſtroke of hurtfull ſkies: A Taper great the paſchall namde, with muſicke then they bleſſe, And franckenſence herein they pricke, for greater holyneſſe: This burneth night and day as ſigne, of Chriſt that conquerde hell, As if ſo be this fooliſh toye, ſuffiſeth this to tell. Then doth the Biſhop or the Prieſt, the water halow ſtraight, That for their baptiſme is reſerude: for now no more of waight Is that they vſde the yeare before, nor can they any more, Yong children chriſten with the ſame, as they haue done before. With woondrous pompe and furniture, amid the Church they go, With candles, croſſes, banners, Chriſme, and oyle appoynted tho: Nine times about the font they marche, and on the ſaintes doe call, Then ſtill at length they ſtande, and ſtraight the Prieſt begins withall, And thriſe the water doth he touche, and croſſes thereon make, Here bigge and barbrous wordes he ſpeakes, to make the deuill quake: And holſome waters coniureth, and fooliſhly doth dreſſe, Suppoſing holyar that to make, which God before did bleſſe: And after this his candle than, he thruſteth in the floode, And thriſe he breathes thereon with breath, that ſtinkes of former foode: And making here an ende, his Chriſme he poureth therevpon, The people ſtaring hereat ſtande, amazed euery one: Beléeuing that great powre is giuen to this water here, By gaping of theſe learned men, and ſuch like trifling gere. Therefore in veſſels brought they draw, and home they carie ſome, Againſt the grieues that to themſelues, or to their beaſtes may come. Then Clappers ceaſſe, and belles are ſet againe at libertée, And herewithall the hungrie times of faſting ended bée. At midnight then with carefull minde, they vp to mattens ries, Eaſter day. The Clarke doth come and after him, the Prieſt with ſtaring eies: The Image and the breade from out the graue (a worthie ſight) They take, and Angels two they place in veſture white, And rounde about ech place appéeres, all voyde of ſtanders by, Saue onely that the watchmen there, amazed ſéeme to ly. But yet I thinke the trembling of the earth they neuer ſée, Nor of the heauenly meſſenger, the flaming maieſtie. An other Image of a Conquerour they forth doe bring, And on the aultar place, and then, they luſtily doe ſing, That Gates of hell a ſunder burſt, and Sathan ouerthrowne, Chriſt from his graue is riſen vp, and now aliue is knowne. Which yet they thinke not ſo to be, as plainely doth appéere, By their Religion, doubtes, and feare, and by their oings here. In ſome place ſolemne ſightes and ſhowes, & Pageants fayre are playd, With ſundrie ſortes of maſkers braue, in ſtraunge attire arayd, As where the Maries thrée doe méete, the ſepulchre to ſée, And Iohn with Peter ſwiftly runnes, before him there to bée. Theſe things are done with ieſture ſuch, and with ſo pleaſaunt game, That euen the graueſt men that liue, woulde laugh to ſée the ſame. At midnight ſtrait, not tarying till the daylight doe appéere, Some gettes in fleſh and glutton lyke, they féede vpon their chéere. They roſt their fleſh, and cuſtardes great, and egges and radiſh ſtore, And trifles, clouted creame, and chéeſe, and whatſoeuer more At firſt they liſt to eate, they bring into the temple ſtraight, That ſo the Prieſt may halow them with wordes of wondrous waight. The Friers beſides, & pelting Prieſtes, from houſe to houſe doe roame, Receyuing gaine of euery man that this will haue at home. Some raddiſh rootes this day doe take before all other meate, Againſt the quartan ague and ſuch other ſickneſſe great. What ſhould I ſhew their forced fayth and great hypocriſie, When as of Chriſt they doe receyue the dredfull miſterie? Which they ne woulde if that they fearde not lightnings of the Pope, For none of them beléeueth here, nor none of them doth hope That they receyue eternall life, and euerlaſting ſeate, By death of Ieſus Chriſt and by his croſſe and triumph great. For who ſhould teache to them the ſame, ſince euery Popes decrée, Their doctrine, fayth, and all their rightes, to this contrarie bée? Straight after this, into the fieldes they walke to take the viewe, And to their woonted life they fall, and bid the reaſt adewe: Go nowe and laugh the Iewes to ſcorne, and all the Turkes that bée, For fayth, religion, lawes, and life, and their Idolatrée. Sure wondrous wiſe and good they be, if that thou wilt compare Them with theſe doltiſh Papiſtes here, that blinde and beaſtly are. Nowe comes the day wherein they gad abrode, with croſſe in hande, Proceſsion weeke. To boundes of euery field, and round about their neighbours lande: And as they go, they ſing and pray to euery ſaint aboue, But to our Ladie ſpecially, whom moſt of all they loue. When as they to the towne are come, the Church they enter in, And looke what ſaint that Church doth guide, they humbly pray to him, That he preſerue both corne and fruite, from ſtorme and tempeſt great, And them defend from harme, and ſend them ſtore of drinke and meat. This done, they to the Tauerne go, or in the fieldes they dine, Where downe they ſit and féede a pace, and fill themſelues with wine, So much that oftentymes without the Croſſe they come away, And miſerably they reele, till as their ſtomacke vp they lay. Theſe things thrée dayes continually are done, with ſolemne ſport, With many Croſſes often they vnto ſome Church reſort, Whereas they all do chaunt alowde, wherby there ſtreight doth ſpring, A bawling noyſe, while euery man séekes hygheſt for to ſing: The Prieſtes giue eare, this madneſſe them doth moſt of all content, And wine to them that paſſe the reaſt, is from the Parſon ſent. Then comes the day when Chriſt aſcended to his fathers ſeate, Aſcention day Which day they alſo celebrate, with ſtore of drinke and meate. Then euery man ſome birde muſt eate, I know not to what ende, And after dinner all to church they come, and there attende. The blocke that on the aultar ſtill, till then was ſeene to ſtande, Is drawne vp hie aboue the roofe, by ropes, and force of hande: The Prieſtes about it rounde do ſtand, and chaunt it to the ſkie, For all theſe mens religion great, in ſinging moſt doth lie. Then out of hande the dreadfull ſhape of Sathan downe they throw, Oft times with fire burning bright, and daſht a ſunder tho, The boyes with gréedie eyes do watch, and on him ſtraight they fall, And beate him ſore with rods, and breake him into péeces ſmall. This done, they wafers downe doe caſt, and ſinging Cakes the while, With Papers rounde amongſt them put, the children to beguile. With laughter great are all things done: and from the beames they let Great ſtreames of water downe to fall, on whom they meane to wet. And thus this ſolemne holiday, and hye renowmed feaſt, And all their whole deuotion here, is ended with a ieaſt. Whitſunday. On Whitſunday whyte Pigeons tame in ſtrings from heauen flie, And one that framed is of wood, ſtill hangeth in the ſkie. Thou ſéeſt how they with Idols play, and teach the people to, None otherwiſe then little gyrles with Puppets vſe to do. Corpus Chriſti day. Then doth enſue the ſolemne feaſt of Corpus Chriſti day, Who then can ſhewe their wicked vſe, and fonde and fooliſh play? The hallowed bread with worſhip great, in ſiluer Pix they beare About the Church, or in the Citie paſſing here and theare. His armes that beares the ſame, two of the welthieſt men do holde, And ouer him a Can pey of ſilke and cloth of golde Foure others vſe to beare aloufe, leaſt that ſome filthie thing Should fall from hie, or ſome mad birde hir doung thereon ſhould fling. Chriſtes paſſion here derided is, with ſundrie maſkes and playes, Faire Vrſley with hir maydens all, doth paſſe amid the wayes: And valiant George with ſpeare thou killeſt the dreadfull dragon here, The deuils houſe is drawne about, wherein there doth appere A wondrous ſort of damned ſprites, with foule and fearefull looke, Great Chriſtopher doth wade and paſſe with Chriſt amid the brooke: Sebaſtian full of feathred ſhaftes, the dint of dart doth féele, There walketh Kathren with hir ſworde in hande, and cruell whéele: The Challis and the ſinging Cake, with Barbara is led, And ſundrie other Pageants playde in worſhip of this bred, That pleaſe the fooliſh people well, what ſhould I ſtande vpon, Their Banners, Croſſes, Candleſtickes, and reliques many on, Their Cuppes and carued Images, that Prieſtes with countnance hie, Or rude and common people beare about full ſolemlie? Saint Iohn before the bread doth go, and poynting towardes him, Doth ſhew the ſame to be the Lambe that takes away our ſinne: On whome two clad in Angels ſhape do ſundrie flowres fling, A number great of ſacring Belles, with pleaſant ſounde doe ring. The common wayes with bowes are ſtrawde, and euery ſtréete beſide, And to the walles and windowes all, are boughes and braunches tide. The Monkes in euery place do roame, the Nonnes abrode are ſent, The Prieſtes and ſchoolemen lowde do rore, ſome vſe the inſtrument. The ſtraunger paſſing through the ſtréete, vpon his knées doe fall: And earneſtly vpon this bread, as on his God doth call. For why, they count it for their Lorde, and that he doth not take The forme of fleſh, but nature now of breade that we do bake. A number great of armed men here all this while doe ſtande, To looke that no diſorder be, nor any filching hande: For all the Church goodes out are brought, which certainly would bée A bootie good, if euery man might haue his libertée. This bread eight dayes togither they in preſence out do bring, The Organs all do then reſound, and prieſtes alowde do ſing: The people flat on faces fall, their handes helde vp on hie, Beléeuing that they ſée their God, and ſoueraigne maieſtie. The like at Maſſe they doe, while as the bread is lifted well, And Challys ſhewed aloft, when as the Sexten rings the bell. O bleſſed God, why ſuffreſt thou ſuch wickedneſſe to raigne, And bringſt them not into the ſteppes of fathers olde againe, Whereof they do ſo often boaſt? yet ſo vnlike them be, That doctrine, faith, nor life with theirs, doth any whit agrée. In Villages the huſbandmen about their corne doe ride, With many Croſſes, Banners, and ſir Iohn their Prieſt beſide: Who in a bag about his necke doth beare the bleſſed breade, And oftentyme he downe alightes, and Goſpell lowde doth reade. This ſurely kéepes the corne from winde, and raine, and from the blaſt, Such fayth the Pope hath taught, and yet the Papiſtes holde it faſt: Not taken from the Goſpell, nor the worthie doctors olde, But from the minde of man, and from blinde reaſon miſtreſſe bolde. Straight after this comes Vrban in, the Vintners God deuine, Whoſe day if that it pleaſant be, and Sunne abrode do ſhine, Saint Vrban. Good lucke to them they count it then, and Bacchus holineſſe, His Image and his Church they decke, and curiouſly do dreſſe, About his necke both cups and bowles they hang in order rounde, And faſt vpon his head a crowne of vinie leaues is wounde. Then him to Tauerne doe they bring, or to ſome tipling houſe, With luſtie traine, and vnto him they quaffe and drinke carrouſe: Who for bicauſe he pledges none, as one that is not drie, In his behalfe they pledge themſelues, and that ſo handſomly, Till myſtes before their eyes appears, and legges do waxe full weake, Their face doth flame, their head doth nod, & ſcarce a word they ſpeake. But if the day be clowdie nowe, or giuen vnto raine, On him they liſt not to beſtow ſuch honour, nor ſuch paine, Poore knaue into ſome ryuer than, they caſt him cruellie, And all to ſouſe him in the ſtreame, or durtie let him lie. And if this madneſſe be not ſuch, as may be laught at well, What thing ſhould mooue vs for to laugh, I ſurely can not tell. Vitus. The next is Vitus ſodde in Oyle, before whoſe ymage faire, Both men and women bringing hennes for offring do repaire: The cauſe whereof I doe not know, I thinke for ſome diſeaſe, Which he is thought to driue away from ſuch as him do pleaſe. Then doth the ioyfull feaſt of Iohn the Baptiſt take his turne, Iohn Baptiſt. When bonfiers great with loftie flame, in euery towne doe burne: And yong men round about with maides, doe daunce in euery ſtréete, With garlands wrought of Motherwort, or elſe with Veruain ſwéete, And many other flowres faire, with Violets in their handes, Whereas they all do fondly thinke, that whoſoeuer ſtandes, And thorow the flowres beholds the flame, his eyes ſhall féele no paine. When thus till night they daunced haue, they through the fire amaine With ſtriuing mindes doe runne, and all their hearbes they caſt therin, And then with wordes deuout and prayers, they ſolemnely begin, Deſiring God that all their illes may there conſumed bée, Whereby they thinke through all that yeare, from Agues to be frée. Some others get a rotten whéele, all worne and caſt aſide, Which couered round about with ſtrawe, and tow, they cloſely hide: And caryed to ſome mountaines top, being all with fire light, They hurle it downe with violence, when darke appeares the night: Reſembling much the Sunne, that from the heauens downe ſhould fal, A ſtraunge and monſtrous •• ght it ſéemes, and fearefull to them all: But they ſuppoſe their miſchiefes all are likewiſe throwne to hell, And that from harmes and daungers now, in ſafetie here they dwell. Whereſoeuer Huldryche hath his place, the people there brings in, Both Carpes, and Pykes, and Mullets fat, his fauour here to win. Saint Huldryche. Amid the Church there ſitteth one, and to the aultar nie, That ſelleth fiſh, and ſo good chéepe, that euery man may buie: Nor any thing he loſeth here, beſtowing thus his paine, For when it hath béene offred once, t'is brought him all againe, That twiſe or thriſe he ſelles the ſame, vngodlineſſe ſuch gaine Doth ſtill bring in, and plentiouſly the kitchin doth maintaine. Whence comes this ſame religion newe? what kind of God is this Same Huldryche here, that ſo deſires, and ſo delightes in fiſhe? Which neuer any heathen God, in offring did receaue, Nor any thing vnto the Iewes the Lorde hereof did leaue. Much folly and iniquitie, in euery place they ſhewe, But we the chiefeſt will declare, and write but of a fewe. The bleſſed virgin Maries feaſt, hath here his place and time, Aſſumption of the Virgin Marie. Wherein departing from the earth, ſhe did the heauens clime: Great bundels then of hearbes to Church, the people faſ doe beare, The which againſt all hurtfull things, the Prieſt doth hallow theare. Thus kindle they and nouriſh ſtill, the peoples wickedneſſe, And vainely make them to beléeue, whatſoeuer they expreſſe: For ſundrie witchcrafts by theſe hearbs ar wrought, & diuers charmes, And caſt into the fire, are thought to driue away all harmes, And euery painefull griefe from man, or beaſt, for to expell, Farre otherwiſe than nature, or the worde of God doth tell. To belly cheare yet once againe doth Martin more encline, Whom all the people worſhippeth, with roſted Géeſe and wine: Marty . Both all the day long and the night, now ech man open makes His veſſels all, and of the Muſt oft times the laſt he takes, Which holy Martyn afterwarde, alloweth to be wine, Therefore they him vnto the ſkies extoll, with prayſe deuine: And drinking déepe in tankardes large, and bowles of compaſſe wide, Yea by theſe fées the Schoolemaiſters haue profite great beſide: For with his ſcholers euery one, about do ſinging go, Not prayſing Martyn much, but at the Gooſe reioyceing tho, Whereof they oftentymes haue part, and money therewithall, For which they celebrate this feaſt, with ſong and muſicke all. Nicholas. Saint Nicholas money vſde to giue to Maydens ſecretlie, Who, that he ſtill may vſe his woonted liberalitie The mothers all their children on the éeue doe cauſe to faſt, And when they euery one at night in ſenſeleſſe ſléepe are caſt: Both Apples, Nuttes, and peares they bring, and other things beſide, As caps, and ſhooes, and petticotes, which ſecretly they hide, And in the morning found, they ſay, that this ſaint Nicholas brought: Thus tender mindes to worſhip Saints and wicked things are taught. Catheryn. What ſhould I tell what Sophiſters, on Cathrins day deuiſe? Or elſe the ſuperſtitious toyes that Maiſters exerciſe. Andrew. To Andrew all the louers, and the luſtie wooers come, Beléeuing through his ayde and certaine ceremonies done, (While as to him they preſentes bring, and coniure all the night) To haue good lucke, and to obtaine their chiefe and ſwéete delight. Church holyday. The dedication of the Church is yerely had in minde, With worſhip paſſing Catholicke, and in a wondrous kinde: From out the ſtéeple hie is hangde, a Croſſe and banner fayre, The pauement of the temple ſtrowde, with hearbes of pleaſant ayre, The Pulpets and the aultars all that in the Church are ſeene, And euery pewe and piller great, are deckt with boughes of gréene: The tabernacles opned are, and Images are dreſt, But chiefly he that patron is, doth ſhine aboue the reſt: A borde there ſtandes wheron their Bulles and pardons thick they lay, That giuen are to euery one that kéepes this holy day: The Idoll of the Patron eke, without the doore doth ſtande, And beggeth faſt of euery man, with pardons in his hande: Who for bicauſe he lackes his tongue, and hath not yet the ſkill In common peoples languages, when they ſpeake well or ill: He hath his owne interpretor, that alwayes ſtandeth by, And vnto euery man that commeth in or out doth cry: Deſiring them the Patrone there, with giftes to haue in minde, And Popiſhe pardons for to buie, releaſe of ſinnes to finde. The Prieſt doth other Prieſtes procure, and willeth euery knaue, His harlot for to bring, and all the ſwarme of Baſtards that they haue: On euery ſide the neighbours come, and ſuch as dwell not nere, Come of their owne good willes, and ſome required to be there. And euery man his weapon hath, their ſwordes, and launces long, Their axes, curriars, pyſtolets, with pykes and darts among. The yong men in their beſt array, and trimmeſt maydes appeare, Both Ieaſters, Roges, and minſtrels with their inſtruments are hear The Pedler doth his packe vntruſſe, the Hoſt his pots doth fill, And on the table bread and drinke doth ſet for all that will: Nor eyther of them their heape deceyues, for of the others all, To them th'aduauntage of this feaſt, and gaine, doth chiefly fall. The ſeruice done, they eyther to the tauerne faſt doe flie, Or to their neighbours houſe, whereas they féede vnreaſonablie: For ſixe or ſeuen courſes, they vnto the table bring, And for their ſuppers may compare with any heathen king. The table taken vp they riſe, and all the youth apace, The Minſtrell with them called go to ſome conuenient place: Where when with Bagpipe hoarce, he hath begon his Muſicke fine, And vnto ſuch as are preparde to daunce hath giuen signe, Comes thither ſtreight both boyes and gyrles, and men that aged bée, And maryed folkes of middle age, there alſo comes to ſée, Old wrinckled hagges, and youthfull dames, that minde to daūce aloft, Then ſundrie paſtimes do begin, and filthie daunces oft: When Drunkardes they do lead the daunce with fray and bloody fight, That handes, and eares, and head, and face, are torne in wofull plight: The ſtreames of bloud runne downe the armes, and oftentimes is ſéene The carkaſſe of ſome ruffian ſlaine, is left vpon the gréene. Here many for their louers ſwéete, ſome daintie thing doe buie, And many to the tauerne go, and drinke for companie, Whereas they fooliſh ſongs do ſing, and noyſes great do make: Some in the meane while play at Cardes, and ſome the Dice do ſhake. Their cuſtome alſo is, the Prieſt into the houſe to pull: Whom when they haue, they thinke their game accompliſhed at full: He farre in noyſe excéedes them all, and eke in drinking drie The cuppes, a prince he is, and holdes their heades that ſpéewing lie And that with ſuch attendaunce good, that often therewithall His ſtomacke turnes, for which his neighbours like and loue him all: Whom if the lyquor that he taſtes doe hap to handle ſo, As on his féeble legges vnto his houſe he can not go: But réele and ſtagger here and there, as oftentymes is ſéene, They friendly ſet him on a horſe, and home they cary him cléene: To ſhewe their thankfull hearts againe, this Catholike aray, Is alwayes vſde vpon this feaſt, and venerable day. For ſoules departed from this life, they alſo carefull bée, All ſoulne daye. The ſhauen ſort in numbers great, thou ſhalt aſſembled ſée, Where as their ſeruice with ſuch ſpéede, they mumble out of hande, That none, though well they marke, a worde thereof can vnderſtande, But ſoberly they ſing, while as the people offring bée, For to releaue their Parents ſoules that lie in miſeree. For they beleeue the ſhauen ſort, with dolefull harmonie, Do draw the damned ſoules from hell, and bring them to the ſkie: Where they but onely here regarde, their belly and their gaine, And neuer troubled are with care of any ſoule in paine. Their ſeruice thus in order ſing, and payde for Maſſe and all, They to the Tauerne ſtreightwayes go, or to the Parſons hall, Where all the day they drinke and play, and pots about do walke, Whereas theſe Cathlicke fathers haue ſuch lewde and beaſtly talke, As doutleſſe would abhorred be, in any ſtinking ſtewes, And ſuch as any ruffian would, aſhamed be to vſe. Theſe are their chiefe ſolemnities, and orders all the yeare, Which with the popiſh fayth in all agréeing doth appeare: And doth declare thou ſéeſt the mindes of theſe ſame holy men, What vertues great they haue, and what religion lyes in them. Churches. The like their temples teach, dreſt vp in more than Pagan guiſe, That ſhines with wicked furniture, before the peoples eies, As Idols, aultars, pictures lewde, with armes of men prophane, And Banners, Croſſes, burning Lampes, & lightes that alwaies flame Before the Virgins Image fayre, and bread in ſecret put, That round about with yron grates, and Chauncell cloſe is ſhut: That ſurely not vnworthily the Turkes beléeue and ſay, The Papiſtes are Idolaters, and haue no perfite way In ſeruing God, who yet account themſelues aſſuredly, The very Spouſe and Church of Chriſt, that cannot runne awry. Funerals. Séeſt thou how in their life they doe beléeue, and when they die, How doubtfull they? that ſhauelings ſéeke their owne commoditie, Regarding not what happe vnto the ſimple people falles: For if that any woulde neglect, the woonted funeralles, Their ſinging and their roaring vaine, and onely here commit Himſelfe to God, his heyre ſhould be conſtrainde to furniſh it, And puniſht ſore if any thing herein ſhall wanting bée, Of all the toyes that doth belong, to ſuch ſolemnitée. Thinkſt thou they carefull are that ſoules, the heauens doe attaine, And Purgatorie ſcape, or rather for their filthie gaine? Some where for children is the like, whom yet they doe confeſſe, For to be iuſt, and innocent, and dye in bleſſedneſſe: Their parentes for their funeralles, conſtrayned are to pay, Leaſt of the Popiſh tyranny, ſhould any part decay. No fayth nor perfit godlineſſe doth any where appeare, But fraude, and craftie coulourings, and ſuch deceitfull geare. Beholde againe their prayers and the bookes they occupie, Prayers. Wherewith to God, and to the ſaintes, they pray continually: And to the Angells vſe the like, which ſuperſticious kinde, They doe not reade with any ſprite, or zealouſneſſe of minde: No cauſe prouoketh them to praye, this onely them aſſinde, To babble much, for otherwiſe woulde want no wordes nor minde, Ne ſhoulde they néede ſo many prayers, appoynted them to ſay, Nor thus to tire their wéeried tongue, with mumbling all the day. Likewiſe before the heapes of bones, prepared for the ſame They ſtande, and to the ſpirits and ſoules in graue, they prayers frame: And for their good eſtate they pray, that meaſure none they know, Of fooliſhneſſe, nor wicked déedes doe euer ceaſſe to flow: To Church they come with beades of bone, or of ſome other thing, Whoſe middles pierced through are tide, and ioyned with a ſtring: Thus faſtned, fiftie Roſaries, they ſtill account the ſame, And thriſe ſo many Pſalters they accuſtomde are to name. With theſe vnto our Ladie, and to God, and to his ſaintes, They number all their babling wordes, and all their tedious plaintes. So that they number onely ſéeke, not caring for the minde, That woman holyeſt is by much, and of deuouteſt kinde: Whoſe beades vnto hir foote doe reach, and eake whoſe maydens ſo Dreſt vp with hir in like attire, vnto the Church doe go. Charmes. Beſides for Charmes and Sorſeries, in all things they excell, Both Dardan and the Witches foule, that by Maeotis dwell. The reaſon is, that yet to truſt in God they haue no ſkill, Nor will commit themſelues vnto th'almightie fathers will. If any woman brought abed, amongſt them haps to lie, Then euery place enchaunter lyke, they clenſe and purifie: For feare of ſprightes leaſt harme ſhe take, or caried cleane away, Be ſtolne from thence, as though ſhe than in greateſt daunger lay, When as hir trauailes ouerpaſt, and ended well hir paine, With reſt and ſléepe ſhe ſéekes to get, hir ſtrength decayde againe. The like in trauailes harde they vſe, and mariages aſwell, And eke in all things that they buy, and euery thing they ſell. About theſe Catholikes necks and hands, are alway hanging charmes, That ſerue againſt all miſeries, and all vnhappie harmes: Amongſt the which, the threatning writ of Michael maketh one, And alſo the beginning of the Goſpell of Saint Iohn: But theſe alone they doe not truſt, but with this ſame they haue, Theyr barbrous wordes, & croſſes drawne, with bloud or painted braue. They ſwordes enchaunt, and horſes ſtrong, and fleſh of men they make So harde and tough, that they ne care, what blowes or cuttes they take, And vſing Necromancie thus, them ſelues they ſafely keepe, From bowes, or guns, & from the woolues their cattell, lambes & ſhéepe: No iourney alſo they doe take, but charmes they with them beare, Beſides in gliſtering glaſſes fayre, or elſe in chriſtall cleare They ſprightes encloſe, and as to Prophets true, ſo to the ſame They go, if any thing be ſtolne, or any taken lame. And when theyr Kine doe giue no milke, or hurt, or bitten ſore, Or any other harme that to theſe wretches happens more. Holy dayes. Now laſt behold how they do kéepe, their ſabboth daies throghout, Firſt in the morning finely dreſt, they iet the ſtréetes about: With garments fondly iagde and cut, and prowde and lofty pace, And rapyres long about them girt, their great and chiefeſt grace Some others walke into the fieldes, or elſe at euery gate, They talke and laugh, and thus begin the day to celebrate. An other ſort togither come, and drinking hande to hande, They quaffe ſo long, till none of them be able for to ſtande: Yea oftentimes they in their ſeates, with drinke are ſtrangled quight, And yéelding vp their dronken ghoſtes, doe bid their mates godnight. But few of them doe care for Maſſe, though euery one doe ſaye, And thinke it holieſt is, nor to the Church they go to praye: But eyther breakefaſtes long they make, at home when they ariſe, Or drinke vntill the euening ſtarre, begin to ſhine in ſkies. Or elſe before the Church doore prate, or in the marketſted. Now when their dinner once is done, and that they well haue fed, To play they go, to caſting of the ſtone, to runne, or ſhoote, To toſſe the light and windie ball, aloft with hande or foote: Some others trie their ſkill in gonnes, ſome wreſtle all the day, And ſome to ſchooles of fence do go, to gaze vpon the play: An other ſort there is that doe not loue abroade to roame, But for to paſſe their time at cardes, or tables ſtill at hoame: Some vſe to ſit before their doores, and backbite euery man, Or newes deuiſe, or ſome debate, and ſtrife whereas they can. The God of wine doth neuer want, in all their ſportes and play, Who when he once hath toucht the braine, & drawne the minde away, Of euery worde ariſeth blowes, their manhoode to aſſay, So that no ſunday ſhalt thou ſée, without ſome dronken fray. And thus of cuſtome endeth ſtill, this ſolemne feſtiuall, With dronkenneſſe, a plague vnto the braine and members all To Enſong are they called ſtraight, by towling of the bell, But from their place they liſt not ſtirre, being occupied ſo well: They forwarde with their game doe go, and Church and ſeruice all, Commit vnto the ſchoolemaiſters, or Vicar generall. Some others to their Ladies ſues, being amorous all the while, Or frame deceytes or ſubtilties, yong maydens to beguile, The wanton youth to daunſing goes, and wickedly doe draw, The maydens in ring, and wantonneſſe hath neyther bondes nor law. And leaſt the youth their pleaſure full of whoredome ſhould not take, In euery Citie common ſtewes, they maintaine and they make: Stewes. And Bawdes they ſuffer openly, and cheriſh them withall, Of whome no ſlender price doe here receyue nor profit ſmall: Theſe Catholickes and holy men, and Church of Chriſt on hie, The ſame that all the worlde reforme, and heritiks deſtroy. To theſe doe come all thoſe whom here their filthie luſt prouokes, Both countrie men, and forriners, and poore and welthie folkes. Whatſoeuer they be that haue not yet, the yoake of mariage tride, No kinde of ſhame doth driue them hence, nor any care beſide. For lawfull here they doe it ſée, and not to be diſpiſde, But with the Popiſh ſort to be, an exerciſe deuiſde. Sometime it alſo haps, that maried men doe here reſort, But not without their puniſhment, if once the youthfull ſort Perceyue that they doe thither come, for this they dearely pay, And oftentimes are vſed ill, and beare the blowes away: But at this ſame the rulers laugh, and nothing doe it waye, For Papiſtes whordome doe alow, and count it but a playe. For of the polſhorne Prieſtes they learne, and them they follow ſtill, That lawes are not of any force to remedie this ill: The lawe Scatinian is extinct, and Iulian laught at now, The Papiſtes euery kinde of vice, and wickedneſſe alow: And not alonely in themſelues, they doe the ſame permit, But alſo vnto all that liſt, with Golde to purchaſe it. But here I faine woulde vnderſtande, what ſtraunge Apoſtle hée, That gaue vnto the Chriſtian ſort, this wanton libertée? That where they fréely might enioye, and haue them openlye, And they themſelues to take the hier of beaſtly letcherye? And notwithſtanding this to be true Catholickes in fine, The perfit ſeruants here of God, and Church of Chriſt deuine? Of their religion, life, and déedes, learne thou their fayth at full, That they with emptie ſhadow thée not into errour pull. This was the guiſe of Corynth great, and Cyprus eke of olde, While darckneſſe raind, and Sathan oule, his ſcepture there did holde: But with a worthie cloake they couer now this whoredome vile, Leaſt that the youth ſhould happe both maydes and matrons to defile. Who would not muſe to ſée the witte of theſe ſame catholickes, Their ſharpe inuentions, and deuiſe, in all their proper trickes? This thing coulde Moyſes not perceyue, that all things elſe did ſée, Deut 2 . 1. Cor 5.6.7.10.Who wilde that whoremong rs ſhoulde none among the people bée: And baniſhte all the •• rlottes qu ght, as God did him aduiſe, No: Paule it ſaw being lifted vp, aboue the ſtarrie ſkies: Who did forbid that any man, his members framde of right, Heb. 13. Gal. 5. Ephe. 5. 1. Theſ. 4. To be the dwelling place of Chriſt, and of the holy ſpright: Should vnto Harlots giue, and make the ſame thereby to be, The body of a hore, this ſtaine and blot commaunded he To be excluded farre from ſaintes, and ſuch as chriſtned be. But they haue nothing for to doe, with Moyſes nor with Paule, Nor any honeſt things they will obey, nor lawes at all. Themſelues they pardon and forgiue, diſpenſing wondrouſlye, As men that onely here poſſeſt the keyes of heauen hye. I many things doe ouer paſſe, nor haue they euery where, Their cuſtomes like, for euery realme hath his deuiſed gere: Yea both in Cities great, and in the villages thereby, There are that doe ſuch doltiſh dreames, defende maliciouſly, That quight contrary are to Chriſt, and to religion right, Which neyther canſt thou eaſily knowe, nor well in verſe reſight. Now when theſe Popiſh lothſome limmes, by no meanes we can ſée In life nor in their trauaile here, the limmes of Chriſt to bée, Nor can in anye wiſe imbrace, the fonde religion vaine, And ſhamefull orders to the worlde, of God contrarie plaine, Nor doctrine of ſo wicked fayth, to Chriſtian people giue, But rather as the Apoſtles teach, doe ſimply ſeeke to liue, Reiecting toyes and mans deuice, as which we ſurely know, To be deteſted of that Prince, that lightnings downe doth throw: We here are called Heritykes, and worthie thought to bée, Of halter, ſworde, conſuming fire, and ech extremitée. We puniſht are, our houſes ſealde, or from our countrie farre We baniſht be, or elſe oppreſt at home with ciuill warre: Whereas the dreadfull Souldiour doth conſume, and cleane deuours, The goodes that here hath gotten bene, by toyle and paine of ours. Theſe things theſe Catholikes attempt, when in ſo many yeares, By ſcriptures ſure they cannot plant, this fooliſh fayth of theirs: Nor ours with ſcriptures ouerthrow, that now they ſéeke to make The Prince of hell and Chriſt to ioyne in one, and partes to take. For (all aſhamde) they plaine perceyue, that long they cannot ſtande, With this religion and this life, if once doe come in hande, The worde of God the heauenly light, and that abrode doe ſhine, The twelue Apoſtles doctrine, and that bleſſed court deuine. Nor good it ſéemeth yet to them (ſuch is their wiſdome hie,) To graunt that they haue erd in any thing or gone awrie. For ſhame it is that learned men, and ſuch as famous bée, For Mitars and for Croſiar ſtaues, amongſt the Chriſtiantée Chriſt nor the Apoſtles fayth to know, that perfit is and iuſt, But to be ledde with dreames of men, whome none may ſafely truſt. From hence procéedeth all their griefe, and all their cruell hate, That with effuſion of our bloud, they ſtabliſh their eſtate: And will not here be pacified by any other meanes, Except we do alow and like, their lewde and monſtrous dreames: And altogither runne in one, like flockes for company, To falſe and wicked worſhippings, and vile idolatry: And knowledge them for Lordes of fayth, and rulers of vs all, Although they teache no doctrine of the King celeſtiall. Oft hath it bene agréed that eyther part ſhoulde fréely vſe Their owne religion, ſeruing God as beſt they liſt to chuſe: And neyther part the other for to trouble or moleſt, With warres or bookes, that Germany might liue in peace or reſt. But Papiſtes can no peace abide, continually they write, And both with wordes, and wretched déedes, moſt cruelly doe bite: Not onely vs, which might (perhaps) be well enough endurde, But alſo Gods moſt holy worde, and goſpell here aſſurde. If tumults on our partes ariſe, or any great ado, Or if our men doe armour take, being forced therevnto, And by the law of armes doe burne, and ſpoyle their enimie, And take the pillage of their foes, immediately they crie: The wicked Goſpell worketh this, beholde in what a plight Theſe fellowes liue, the Deuill brought this Goſpell firſt to light: It Turkiſh is, and not the ſame, that Luke wrought long ago: And ſpightfully they ſlaunder it, with many raylings mo: As if that any Preacher here, did euer this alow, Or any did by worde of Chriſt, ſuch crueltie auow. They know full well themſelues that none of ours did euer teache, To vſe ſuch violence nor this vnto the people preache: Yet with their vile infectiue tongues, and mouthes enuenemde tho, With poyſon that in helliſh lakes, and Stygian ſtreames doth flo, The Goſpell of the Lorde they doe, moſt ſpightfully defame, And herewithall the Miniſters and Preachers of the ſame. But who can Princes gouerne here, or any meanes deuiſe, To kéepe them in, from vſing force againſt their enimies? Why doe they not as well diſwade their Catholikes, and blame Them for their force and crueltie, that doe the very ſame? And boldely euery where deſtroy, and euery man moleſt, Yea euen their very friendes at home, that faine woulde liue at reſt. What kinde of Goſpell teache thoſe men, that euen openly With bitter wordes and bookes perſwade men to ſuch cruelty? Are theſe to any man vnknowne? doth Fraunce and Italy Not openly declare the ſame, and plainely teſtify? Do not the pulpettes of the Pope, perſwade this martiall might, And pardons euery man hys ſinnes that in their quarrell fight? But ſure the wallet them beguiles, that hanges behinde their backe, And better others faultes they ſée, than what themſelues doe lacke: Accounting here for catholickes, themſelues and all their traine, And others all as heritickes, and wicked people plaine: Wherefore the chiefeſt members of this holy popiſh ſtate, Their cerimonies and their dayes, they yearely conſecrate. Their fooliſh fayth and beaſtly life, I openly doe ſhowe, That all the worlde may vnderſtande, and euery man may know, That neyther Chriſt nor perfit fayth, they any whit doe way, But onely ſéeke to looke aloft, and boldely for to ſay, That they the booke of Peter are, and holy Catholickes, And we vnhappie caſtawayes, and curſed heritickes. But wherein are they Catholickes? bicauſe they folow here The truth? but what they folow and beléeue doth plaine appere. So it is that in number they and countries vs excell, So mayſt thou both the Turkes and Mores, call Catholickes as well. Herewith I iudge that euery man, that hath an vpright heart, Doth vnderſtande how iuſt our cauſe hath béene for to depart From this their monſtrous fayth, and from their lewde ydolatrée, And for to ſhonne theſe popiſh members all of ech degrée: As men that neyther Chriſt doe know, nor euer ſéeke to finde, Nor ſuffer ſuch as woulde, but kéepe them ſtill in darckneſſe blinde. FINIS.
A Table of the principall matters conteyned in this Booke. A ABbot of what Monkes. 21 His conditions. 22 Abottes their confirmation. 6 Abſolution how the Papiſtes vſe it. 34 Abſurdities that the Pope commaunds to be beleeued in the miniſtring of the Lordes ſupper. 31 Agat the ſtone. 39 Acoluth his office. 13 Aduent. 44 Aduoutrie a paſtime. 58 Agatha hir vertue againſt fire. 38 Agnes hir feaſt. 46 Agnus dei. 46 Albe. 13 Alters their dedication. 13 Altars their waſhing. 51 Altars their nūber how they ſprang. 33 Andrew his feaſt. 55 Aungels about the ſepulchre. 52 Alſoulne day. 56 Anne hir vertue. 38 Annates commodious to the Pope. 6 Anthonie his helpe. 38 Appeales to Rome. 24 Appolin the virgin hir vertue. 38 Aquiſgran. 39 Altars annoynted. 25 Archbiſhop of Colin. 9 Aſcention day. 53 An Aſſe of wood. 50 Aſſumption of the virgin Marie. 55 Auarice a common diſeaſe wt papiſts. 27 Auſten his time. 47 Aſhwedneſday. 49 Almoſe to what end giuē to papiſts. Abſolution for workes. 34 Annoynting of finger head, & hand. 34 B. BIſhop his order at the Altar. 10.11 Baptiſme done in Latine. 31 Baptiſme the order and vſe. 30 Prophane by the papiſtes. 31 Bachanalles. 47.48 Baptiſme how it was vſed at ye firſt. 31 Baptiſme defiled wt fooliſh geſtures. 31 Barbara what ſhe carieth. 53 Barbara hir vertues. 38 Bennet Monkes their Abbot. 21 Bennet why he forbad his Monkes the Bible. 22 Bennet his vertue. 38 Benifites of our Ladie to hir worſhippers. 35.36 Bible the interpretation belonging onely to the Pope. 3 Blaſe his day .47. his vertue. 38 Boemians worſhippers of ye Pope. 2 Benifites gyuen by the Papyſtes for money. 27 Breeches of Saintes ſhewed for Reliques. 38 Butter to be eaten, a ſinne. 49 Bell of numberg Heruaunt. 41.42 Belles annoynted. 25 Biſhop his furniture and apparell. 9 Biſhoppes their deſcription, their othe their order in preaching. 8 Bonefires. 54 Begging Friers their order. 22 Bawdes allowed by the Papiſtes. 58 Begging thought a beautie. 23 Bawlinge Friers ſet on to gette money. 41 Bones of ſaints digged vp for gain. 39 Bread chaunged into ye body of chriſt. 31 Blockheades deputies to biſhops. C. CHriſtning of Belles. 14 Towling againſt tempeſts. 41 Candels at pilgrymages. 39 Candleſticks offered by Pilgrimes. 39 Commons their riot. 16 Canonicall houres. 16 Common law how it came. 26 Commons arrayed in blacke. 16 Priſoners their God. 38 Carbuncle. 39 Cardinals their intertainment. 7 Cardinals a burthen to the worlde. 8 their maner of polling. 7 Carpes offred, to what Saint. 55 Charterhouſe Monkes. 42 Catherin hir weapons. 53 hir feaſt. 55 Catherin hir vertue. 38 Catholikes who be. 29 Catholike fayth. 29 Chriſme. 14 Chriſme, the vſe thereof in baptiſme. 31 Chriſme vſed about children. 34 Chriſtopher. 53 Chriſtopher his ayde. 38 Chriſt why he aſcended. 36 why he waſhed his diſciples feete. 51 Chriſt poore. 39 Chriſt our righteouſneſſe. 30 our aduocate before the father. 37 Chriſt what he hath done for vs. 4 what he giues vs in his ſupper. 33 howe he is alwayes eaten. 32 Chriſt and Moyſes their difference. 11 Chriſt his birth. 44 his bare ••• ue. 34 Churches ſeldome built to him, his offering in Maſſe. 32 Chriſt eaten of good and euill. 32 ioyned with beliall. 59 Chriſt his eſtimation with the Turke, and the Papiſtes. 43 Chriſtians their true penance. 34 Chryſolyt. 39 Candlemaſſe day. 47 Coffer in the Church. 41 Citizēs purchaſe ye carion of an Aſſe. 50 Coleyn tho Archbiſhop. 9 Counſaile none without the Pope. 4 Confirmation popiſh. 33.34 Corinthians their Cuſtome. 58 Chriſt his bodie to be ſolde. 27 Corpus Chriſ i day, 53 Coribantes. 45 Croſſe kiſſ d by popiſhe prieſtes. 51 Croſſes abo t Papiſtes neckes. 57 Courſe prayers to our Ladie. 36 Curtizans, or Courtiers of Rome. 16 Church of Chriſt, hir true Citizens. 29 hir power, from whom ſhe hath it. 2 Coniurer his office. 13 Court of Rome what ſeruauntes they like. 16 Cowle of Friers fled vnto. 42 Cardinalles hattes. 7 Childermaſſe day. 45 Cardinalles their othe. 7 Care ſunday. 49 Coles of ſaint Laurence to be ſeene. 37 Cardinals imbaſſadors. 7 Chriſome for children. 31 Candle vſed at Chriſtnings. 31 Caſting of ſnow balles. 48 Caues ſought in time of tempeſt. Clappers Church walles annoynted. 3 Churches garniſhed. 37 Churches beare the name of euery ſaint, but ſeldome of Chriſt. 37 Chriſt his coate to be ſeene. Cōmon people deceiued by inquiſitors. Councels in Germanie. Canons their Catſkin hoodes. 16 Camewſe a ſton D. DEſcription of Abbayes. 21 Dauncing at Bonefires. 54 Deuils incloſed in Chriſtall. 57 Damaſus the Pope deuiſor of ye houres canonicall 16 Danes worſhippers of the Pope. 2 Daniel his life. 19 Dardanus a witch. 57 Difference in dayes. 44 Diuine honor not due to our Lady. 36 Deathes picture caried aboute. 50 Dedication of Churches. 12 Damnation the rewarde of doubtful minde. 43 E. ENgliſh worſhippers of the Pope. 2 Ephod of the Iewes. 6.47 Excommunication how it was vſed at the firſt. 35 Exequies. 57 Egges forbidden. 49 Egges lawfull to be eaten. 27 Egges offered by pylgrymes. Emeralde. 39 Extreeme vnction the vſe. Extreme vnctiō taketh away ſinnes. Eaſter euen. 52 Eaſter day. 52 F. FLeſhe forbidden. 49 Funerals their order. 57 Feuer what ſaint helpeth. 38 Feaſtes of our Ladie. 36 Faith in chriſt defaced by the Pope. 34 Florian his force. 38 Frenchmen worſhippers of the Pope. 2 Falling ſickneſſe who helpeth. 38 Faſting of Papiſtes. Fayth onely in Chriſt. 29 Freedom of Prieſtes. 26 Frankenſenſe offered by Pilgrimes. 39 Frankenſenſe burned. 3 Flowers and bowes on palme ſ nd. 50 G. GOdfathers to Belles. 14 God how he is pleaſed. 34 God his power and pitifulneſſe denied by Papiſtes. 35.36 God and man not pleaſed in one ſort. 35 God pleaſed with Maſſe. 33 God called vpon in trouble. 35 Who flieth vnto him. 29 Goſpell howe it is ſlaundered by Papiſtes. 59 Goſpell where it is preached the Pope decreaſeth. 59 Saint George. 53 Saint George his force. Germanes worſhippers of the Pope. 2 S. Gertrude hir force againſt mice. 38 Greekes neuer worſhipped the Pope. 2 God giueth all things freely. Saint Gregorie his force. 38 Gaine of vngodlineſſe, 55 Goſpell of Saint Iohn worne aboute neckes. 57 Gods lawes & mans farre different. 35 Good Friday. 51 Giuing of orders. H. HAlowing of the Font. 52 Holy water his vſe. 41 Helpers fourteene. 38 Horſes offered in Pylgrimage. 39 Halowing of Candles. 47 their vertue .47. their vſe againſt tempeſtes. 42 Heades of Prieſtes annoynted. 25 Halowing of meates. 52 Heauen to be ſolde. Hallowing of Churches. 12 Horſes healed by Steuen. 45 Holidayes how they are vſed. 57 Hay of the Manger where Chriſt laye ſhewed as reliques. 39 Hennes offered to Vitus. 54 Hanging of herrings. 49 Herods crueltie. 45 Saint Huldrich his force and helpe. 38 Harlots puniſhed by Moyſes law. 58 Holy land ſought in Pilgrimage. 39 Hogges offered by Pilgrimes. 58 Hunting for prebendes. 17 Harlots alowed to euery prieſt. 18 Holy water. 42 Hungarians worſhippers of ye Pope. 2 J. IOhn the Baptiſt his feaſt. 54 Iohn Baptiſt his going before the ſinging Cake. 53 In the ſupper what is giuen. 33 Inquiſitors of Hereſies. 23 Iacinct. 39 Iriſh men obedient to the Pope. 2 Saint Iames riche. 38 Iaſper a ſtone. 39 Saint Iohn the Euangeliſt his force agaynſt poyſon. 45 Idolles. 41 Idols their tabernacles ſet open. 55 Ieſuites a ſect. 25 Indulgens. 41 Infantes thought to be poſſeſſed wyth deuilles. 31 Infants their exequies. 43 Inquiſition what articles it hath. 23 to whom it is committed. 23 Italians worſhippers of the Pope. 2 Iudas torne in peeces. 51 Iewes by what they thinke to bee ſaued. 30 Iewes did all things by Gods cōmaundement, and Papiſts all of their owne heade. 25 Idoll of the virgin exceeding Salomon in coſtly clothes. 40 Images couered. 40 Ieruſalē ſought vnto in pilgrimage. 39 Image of Chriſt buried. Images offered by Pilgrimes. 39 Image of our Ladie how it is clad. K. KEyes of the Pope. 2 Knightes of Duchland. Kings annoynted. 25 Kinges kneeling to an Aſſe. 50 Kings their obedience to the Pope. 4 L. LIcence to eate fleſhe. 27 Loy his force. 38 Larence his vertue. 38 Lectoror his office. 13 Saint Leonard his vertue. 38 Lawes of God howe the Pope vſeth them. 3 Lecherie of prieſtes. 27 Linus Pope his deuice. 47 Loth his life in Sodome. 19 Luke the God of Painters. 38 Lucifers fall from heauen. 1 Lying thought no ſhame. 47 Lent. 49 M. MAry beneficiall to huſbandmen. 36 Mar in worſhipped with cheſe. 55 Maydens howe they chooſe theyr huſbandes by Onions. 44 Maſſe opens heauen. 33 Maſſe what commoditie it brings. 32 Mariage ſhunde of Papiſtes. 27 of Monkes. 20 Mariage broken by the Pope. 3 Mariage made & broken in cōſiſtorie. 15 Monkes their maundie. 51 Men of Cipreſſe their maners. 58 Men pleaſed with deedes. Murder made light of. 26 Mediators. 38 Milke of the virgin Mary a relique. 37 Milke not eaten. 49 Maſkers. Saint Martine benificiall to Schoolemaiſters. 55 Moone obſerued by Papiſtes. 44 Magicke vſed. 57 Saint Magnus his vertue. 39 Mahomets lawe when and howe it beganne. 2 Miſchiefes from heauen. 1 S. Marke his vertue againſt death. 38 Mary wher ſhe is moſt worſhipped. 39 Maryes three comming to the Sepulchre. 52 Maried men comming to the ſtewes puniſhed. 48 Saint Martin his feaſt. 55 Marchant men worſhippers of the virgin. 36 Merites ſought in all things. 40 Merites their eſtimation. 40 Merites to be ſolde. 27 bought of Monkes, by whom. 40 Michaels Epiſtle. 57 Maſſe hir commodities. 33 Maſſes ordeyned of kings & princes. 33 Maſſes what and howe great benifites they bring. 33 Murder made light of. 26 Maſſing garmēts offred by pilgrims. 39 Monkery. 42 Monkes welthie. 20 the inuenters of all miſchiefe. 36 Monkes their lyfe, their ſtudyes, and offices. 18.19 Mōks their chaſtity, pouerty, ſects. 20 Monks their delicacie and riot. 21 their ſwarmes howe they ſpring and encreaſe. 31 Monkes merites to be ſolde. Monkes called to ſleepe in the day time, and whic. 21 Monaſteries deſcribed. 21 Moyſes and Chriſt their difference. 11 Mullets offered to ſaints. 55 Miracles eſteemed of the worlde. 22 Monkes meddle wt wordly matters 20 Myſe & rattes driuen away by ſaints. 38 Mariners worſhippers of the Virgin Marie. 36 Monks where they made their neſts. 21 Money ſnatched from the altar. 45 Money who giueth, what bleſſings hee receyues. 27 Maydes how they learne the conditions of ſuch as ſhall be their huſbands. Maidens how they geſſe their huſbands in Aduent. 44 Maydes drawing in the plowe. 49 A wodden child in ſwadlingclouts. 45 Making of a king. 46 Monkes their daintineſſe. 19 N. NAiles wher chriſt was crucified 38 Nicholas his helpe, his feaſt, and worſhip. 55 Napkins of Saintes preſerued. 37 S. Nicholas giues gold to maydes. 55 O. OFfring of Lammes. 46 Oxen offered in pilgrimage. 39 Our Ladies faſt. 36 Olde fire quenched & new halowed. 52 Our Ladie of Ratſpon. 39 Our Ladies Monkes. 36 Offerings of the people. 28 Officialles and their office. 15 Oyle the vſe in baptiſme. 31 Saint Ottilia hir vertue. 38 Offering of fiſhe. 55 P. POwlers. 47 Plowing on Aſhwedneſday. 49 Papiſtes ſkilfull in Logique. 57 Papiſtes truſt in Aſtrologie. 44 Pope author & perſwader of wars. 60 Pope vſurpeth ye ſtate of ye Emperor. 4 Prebendaries olde and newe. 15 Prieſtes their chiefe holineſſe in ſong. 53 Paſkall. 52 Pilgrimage to Compoſtell. 39 Pilgrimes deckt with ſcallop ſhels. 40 Prieſts their puniſhmēt for marying. 27 Pope his conſiſtories. 15 Peeces of the Croſſe of Chriſt ſhewed in euery Church. 38 Pope his triple Crowne. 5 Proceſſion Weeke. 53 Prieſtes fingers annoynted. 13 Preachers giuen to couetouſneſſe. 1 Preachers their euill life before the Papacie. 15 Papiſtes all teach to be doubtfull. 43 Proteſtants theyr warres, how the Papiſtes account. 59 Pope cōmaundeth to truſt in our owne deedes. 35 Prayers agaynſt the Feuer. 48 Popiſh fayth. 29 Papiſtes ryding about corne. 54 Precious ſtones offred in pilgrimage. 39 Papiſtes ſeeke lyke Giants to get heauen by their owne workes. 30 Purgatorie fire. 5 Prieſtes all ſhauen. 25 Popiſh impietie. 53 Pope the maiſter of vngodlineſſe. 34 Pardons their order. 41 Plates of leade faſtned to the Palle. 46 Penance. 34 Papiſtes their paſtime on holy daies. 58 Princes which they gaue lāds to Monaſteries. 21 Pope his riches. 6 Palles their deſcription. 46 Palles their vſe. 47 Palme ſunday how it is kept. 50 Palmes agaynſt tempeſtes. 42 Pope whether and how he is holieſt. 6 Pope whether hee bee the Churches heade. 3 How he vſeth his keyes. 2 worſhiped of all men as God. 2 how he gets his riches 6 how he knowes the ſecretes of euerie Prince. 24 Papiſtes put all their truſt in Maſſe Pope his power in Hell. Pope his pardon. Pope his apparell, his going a warfare. Pope his horrible doctrine of penaunce. his maieſtie, ryot. &c. Popiſh fayth. 29 Popiſh pardons. 41 Popiſh Parſons what they preach. 17 Papiſtes their patrones. Saint Paule welthy. 40 S. Pauls ſentence againſt whoremongers. 58 Papiſtes waſhing of feete. 51 Pilgrimages, their order, their eſtimation. 39 Saint Parnell hir vertue. 37 Saint Peter the ritch. 6 Peter his booke. 60 his running to the ſepulchre. 52 Perſecution of Proteſtantes. 59 Penaunce of Papiſtes and of Chriſtians. 34 Poloners worſhippers of the Pope. 2 Pope howe he brings the people in ſubiection. 4 Power of the Church wherein it conſiſtes. 2 Prayers of Papiſtes. 57 Pope how he hath brought in ſubiection Princes. 4 Princes their obedience to the Pope. 4 Popiſh Pſalter. 57 Purgation how the Pope vſeth it. 50 Papiſtes refuge. Papiſtes count themſelues kinges for their ſhauen crownes. 25 Pope makes no difference betwixt the Apoſtles, and Simon Magus. 34 Q. QViermen. 16 R. RVnning in Charetes. Radiſh eaten with deuotion. 52 Ratſpon. 39 S. Roke his vertue againſt ſcabbes. 37 S. Roman againſt Deuils. 37 Roſaries certaine prayers made by Monkes. 36 Ruſſians worſhippers of the Pope. 2 Running vnder ſtayers for feare of thū der. 42 S. SExten cōpelled to ware a ſurpleſſe. 26 Sickneſſe healed by Maſſe. 33 Sommer a boy. 50 Shooes of Saints ſhewed for reliques. Single life. 27 Supper of the Lorde why it was ordayned. 31 Supper of the Lorde how the papiſtes vſe it. 50.52 Supper of the Lorde chaunged into Maſſe. Supper of the Lorde applyed for merites. 32 how many maydes defiled. 31.32 Sinnes forgiuen to the faythfull. 31 Sinnes wyped away by Maſſe 33 Spaniardes obeyers of the Pope. 2 Speare that ſlew Chriſt a relique. 39 Surplis what good it doth. 26 Schoole maiſters part of the Aſſe 50 Schole maiſters ſurpleſſe wearers. 26 Shroue tueſday how it is vſed. 48 Sheepe their Saint. 38 Singing Cake worſhipped. 53 Sainctes clokes preſerued. 39 Shearing of cloth for feare of Mothes a Prouerbe. 41 Spittle vſed in baptiſme. Steuen his feaſt. 38 Suffragans their office. Suſanna hir aide. 38 Sacraments .5. deuiſed by the Pope. 33 Sault vſed in baptiſme. 31 Saphire. 39 Satiſfaction. 34 Scatmiā law againſt lechers abrogated. Scots worſhippers of the Pope. 2 Silken garments offered by Pilgrimes Sacramentes onely two appoynted by Chriſt. 30 Scilence of Belles for three dayes. 50 T. TAbles. Toothach what ſaint healeth. 38 Twelfeday. 45 Turkes and Papiſtes compared. Turkes howe they beleeue, howe they thinke of papiſtes, that they haue more reaſon than Papiſtes. The Papiſtes members cannot bee taken for the members of Chriſt. W. WArres cauſed by the Pope, and when. 5 Worſhip of Saintes, merites of ſaints, their force in penaunce. 34 Worſhippers of thēſelues at Spires. 34 Welles chaunged into wine. 44 Winter a boy. 50 Vaunt of good workes. 29 Without merites nothing. 32 Saint Valentine his vertue. 38 Saint Vincent his vertue. 38 Vintners worſhippers of ſ. Vrban. 38 Wine chaunged into the bloud of Chriſt. Water chaunged into wine. S. Vitus his vertue, his feaſt and worſhip. 38 Saint Vrban his feaſt, worſhip, and vertue. 38 Vrſula. 38 S. Wendelin, his vertue and aide. 38 S. Wolfgang his vertue, and ayde. 38 Whiſontide. 53 Women in childbed defended from Deuiles. 57 wheele vſed in ſhewing of faſtes. 36 Willow branches caſt before an Aſſe. 50 Vertuous life. 19 Whoredome. 58 FINIS.
Faultes eſcaped.

The firſt leafe, fifth verſe, for Sceptor, reade Scepter.

The ſixt leafe, eleuenth verſe, for hore, reade whoore.

The eight leafe, ſeconde verſe, for dranes, reade droanes.

The ninth leafe, verſe 27 for ſhew, reade ſhooe.

The tenth leafe, verſe the ſeuenth, for woode, reade hoode.

The twelfth leafe, verſe 61 for Damocratus, reade Democritus.

The thirtenth leafe, verſe the firſt, for Great, reade Greeke.

The ſame leafe, verſe .26. for doth, reade to.

The ſixtene leafe, verſe .17. For Damaſſus, reade Damaſus.

The .19. leafe, verſe .69. for. In darkeneſſe lyues? more nedeth it the light. &c.

Reade thus. In darkeneſſe doth it liue? more nedes the light of holy men.

The twentie leafe, verſe .62. For ſhoulde, reade toulde.

The .21. leafe, verſe .37. for or, reade all.

The .26. leafe, verſe 50 for cherely, reade clearely.

The ſame leafe, verſe .63. For Luke wrought, reade Luke wrote.

The .55. leafe, verſe 28. For the laſt he takes, reade the taſt he takes.

The .44. leafe, verſe .3. For ſteates, reade ſtreates.

The .48 leafe, verſe 38. For Scent reade ſent.

The .56 leafe, verſe .6. For their heape deceaues, reade their hope deceaues.

The laſt leafe, the firſt ſide, and .29. lyue. For ſo it is, reade ſo is it.

¶ To the right honorable and worthie Lords, the gouernors and Senate of Bern, Thomas Naogeorgus vvisheth. &c.

WHEN AS I VNDERSTOODE (right honourable Lordes) your common vvealth to be thorovvly furnished and beautified, not onely vvith good lavves, and ordinances, but alſo vvith pure religion & ſound doctrine, and pleaſantly to flourish vvith all honeſt and vertuous ſtudies, I can ſcarcely expreſſe hovve ioyfull it vvas vnto me: and ſo much the more, bicauſe you haue determined to giue no place at all to the aduerſaryes of Gods truth, vvho novv do labor vvith the vttermoſt of their force, to darcken the light of Chriſt, and to bring in againe the ſtinking and contagious miſtes of falſe and ydolatrous religion. This ſurely is the ſtedfaſtnes of the knovvne & aſſertaine truth, from vvhich in theſe dayes (the more pittie) haue great numbers vvithdravvne theirſelues, eyther for feare, or hope of liuing & revvard, thā vvhich can nothing be more vvicked, nor of more force to the eſtablishing of vngodlineſſe. For according to the ſaying of ſaint Peter, farre better vvere it for a man neuer to haue knovvne the truth, than after he hath entered the path of true godlineſſe to forſake the truth for any cauſe, and refuſing Chriſt to cleaue to the illuſions of Sathan. For vvhat thing do our aduerſaries more shoot at, thā to accuſe vs of lightneſſe and vnfaythfulneſſe, and more and more to entangle vs vvith their errors and entiſements? VVo bee to the vvorlde for offences, ſayth our ſauiour Chriſt. VVhat commendation, and hovve great a glorie it is in ſo many ſtormes and tempeſtes, yea, in the Shipvvracke of ſuch a number, rightly to holde the helme, and to giue neyther place to vvinde nor vvaue, no man there is but knovves. This glorie of your common vvelth, I doe more a great vvay eſteeme, than if you had brought in ſubiection ſome mightie and large dominion, bicauſe that earthly thinges vvith heauenly thinges and truth (vvhich is Chriſt) vvith the vvorlde are not to be compared, and earthly things, be vve pleaſed or diſpleaſed, vvill vve, or nill vve, muſt shortly be forgone. But the truth remaynes, and shall keepe you for euer. Go therefore happily forvvard (right vvorthie Gouernors) hauing obteyned ſuch vertue and conſtancie.

For thus to heauen do vve go, as the Poet in a farre more baſe and other thing affirmeth. Greatly beholding vnto you are all thoſe that loue and vvorship our Lorde Ieſus Chriſt, but eſpecially the people that are vnder your gouernment: Conſidering their neighbours round about them dvvelling in darkneſſe, they enioy the moſt ſvveete and comfortable light of the Goſpell, and that thorovv your vviſedome, councell, aucthoritie, ſtedfaſtneſſe, and of long time great care in aduaunceing the Goſpell of God. I vvish therefore vvell from the bottome of my heart, both to you and your cōmon vvealth, and minding to declare my good vvill tovvards you, I find nothing meeter thā to dedicate this preſent vvorke vnto you, that if it shall happen to come vnto our poſteritie, your commendable and carefull diligence in ſetting forth the Goſpell may not bee paſſed in ſilence. Neyther doe I doubt but that (according to your accuſtomed gentleneſſe) you vvill take in good part this my poore labour and good vvill. The Lorde Ieſus long preſerue both you and your gouernment in proſperous eſtate.

From Campidun the firſt of March. 1550.
The ſpirituall Husbandrie. The first Booke. OF holy huſbandmen, and of the art we minde to ſing, That mortal minds doth til, & blinded breaſts to good doth bring, What noiſome plants out of ye harts corrupted thou ſhalt wéed Before that of the Goſpell there thou ſowſte the ioyfull ſéed: And howe the fieldes are to be dreſt, and eke the certaine way, To kéepe the ſéede in ſaftie, ſo as it doe not decay, Nor that the prince of hell abrode the cockle fowle doe fling, Or of the lewdneſſe of the ground, or faultie ſoyle it ſpring. Herein vnknowne to Poets olde, that long agone did write, O Chriſt the perfite ſonne of God, and fathers Image right, Graunt me thine ayde: for wiſedome all from thée alonely ſprings, And worthie Poets through thy helpe, haue written worthie things. Thine owne affayres are had in hand, of this ſo ſacred paine, Thou art the cauſe, for it belongs vnto thy heauenly raigne: Thou ſendes the huſbandmen and art the plowmans chiefeſt ayde, The bleſſed corne that ſpringeth vp, ſhall in thy barnes be layde. And you moſt worthie ſouereigne Lords, and choſen fathers graue, That in this age aboue the reſt, the chiefeſt honor haue, For learning and religion pure, of Muſes taking charge, As Bern your Countrie doth declare, and all your Empire large. For there true godlineſſe is taught, and Chriſt and fayth withall, And place aſſignde to vertuous wits, and ſtudyes liberall. You are not (as a great ſort are) of Chriſt aſhamde awhit, That here amongſt a thouſand foes, in blinded world doth ſit, And calleth all men in the ende vnto his heauenly raigne, Accept theſe ſimple verſes here, and fauour this my paine. At firſt the almightie father framde the worlde, and mortall kinde, In perfite ſtate, and yéelding fruite ſuch as himſelfe aſſignde, Who wholy gaue themſelues to him with all their force and might, For firſt of all within their heartes, he ſowde a knowledge right: And gaue them reaſon to diſcerne in euery kinde of thing, That in the foming ſeas, or ayre, or on the earth doth ſpring. Thus when the paſſing force of his almightie name did ſhine, He plaſte in man a dreadfull feare, of his eſtate deuine. Which leaſt it cauſed fearefull flight, or ſtirde vp deadly hate, He ioynde a pleaſant loue withall of his excelling ſtate: Whereby the feare and reurence of his mightie Maieſtée, With felowſhip of feruent loue might ſafely guided bée. For with himſelfe he framed man, both Lorde of earth and ſeas, And after death to liue with him in euerlaſting eaſe: Prouiding him to féede vpon the fruite of euery trée, And pleaſant hearbes, that ſo he might his carefull mercy ſée. Who would not with his heart eſtéeme and loue with all his minde, A Lorde ſo good and gracious, and of ſo gentle kinde? Yet leaſt that cauſe of feare ſhould want, and fauour bréede diſdaine, And to much welth inflame his heart, and prick his ydle braine: He gaue him one commaundement, to barre him of his will, That is, he ſhould not taſte the trée of knowing good or ill: Except they would their life forgo, and loſe theſe giftes of grace. Beſides all this he planted in the déepeſt of their minde, That vnto other creatures to, of nature was aſſignde, That they ne ſhould with hate purſue their kinde, nor ouerthrow, But with a friendly faythfull heart eche other friendſhip ſhow, And giue aduice what beſt to doe, and miſchiefe how to let, Such happie ſéedes in heart of man at firſt were déepely ſet, By him that all thing here did frame, and thus he left this fielde Of owne accorde, his pleaſant fruites and good encreaſe to yéelde. But ſtreight the Stygyan Prince that late from ſkies was hedlong throwne For prowd preſūptuous mutenie & treſpas earſt vnknowne, Both hating God himſelfe aboue, and all his vertuous déedes, Began to frowne and lowre on man, and on theſe pleaſant ſeedes: Determining theſe plantes pluckt vp, to ſowe contrarie graine. And taking on himſelfe the ſhape and cloke of Serpent plaine, Our father firſt he doth perſwade, to breake the ſacred heſt, That ſo he might both ra e and pluck due feare from out his breſt, And ceaſe the loue and certaine hope of Gods aſſiſtance knowne, Whereby the ground diſordred might with wéedes be ouergrowne. Ne faylde he of his purpoſe here, for why the womans hart Conſented ſtreight to taſt the 〈◊〉 , and gaue hir huſband part. As ground that long hath lien vntilde, is filled e ery where With humblockes, thornes, and thiſtles ſharpe, and other hurtfull gere: So was the minde of man oppreſt with miſchiefes fowle and great, And harmefull things deſeruing death, had there abiding ſeat. The knowledge of th'almightie Lorde with darkeneſſe was diſgraſte, Our iudgement eke in worldly things, with blindneſſe great defaſte. Both feare and reuerence due to God, were baniſhed cleane away, Loue colde, and hope of helpe deuine did vtterly decay. In place whereof ſprang hate, and flight, contempt of God beſide, And nothing that was good or right, the will corrupt applide. If any good deſire by chaunce, of vertue mooues the minde, The force doth ſtreight begin to faile, in ſlouthfull bodie blinde: And ſinne prouokes to greater crime, not ſuffering them aright To runne their race, but mooues agaynſt the Lord both day and night. Nor néedefull is it much to mooue, for of his proper ſway, Like Lead he alwayes hedlong falles, and runnes the hurtfull way. Doeſt thou not ſée how leauing God, his honour here we giue To trifles vaine, and wretched men that on the earth doe liue? If that a king that may to day, or elſe to morrow die, Receyue vs into fauour great, and giue vs honour hie, Or if of gliſtring golde we haue abundaunce in our handes, Or haue our bagges with ſiluer full, to purchaſe Lordly landes, Or Iewels great, or precious ſtones, or coſtly rich aray, And friendes in number great about vs dwell and beare the ſway, Or ſtore of luſtie ſouldiors haue, to encounter with the fo: O Lord how then we looke aloft, how ſtately then we go? And thinke our ſelues in happie caſe, and bleſt on euery ſide, How fowly doth our filth appéere, to him that all doth guide? With moſt men for their God alone, the belly here is thought, And euery thing as it commaundes, is eyther ſhund or ſought. Some place a lo t on aulters hie the ſharpneſſe of their wit, And ſome the bodyes force, and as a God they worſhip it. But no man laboureth ſo the will of God for to obay, As all men doe for trifles vaine, that fade and paſſe away. Of Gods innumerable ſort are found, by feare and loue, And in the meane time he diſpiſde that reignes and rules aboue. What miſchiefe can be found, but doth from blinded ignorance ſpring? Or what contempt of God? to ſweare is thought a decent thing. With Gods moſt dreadfull name aboue, both men and children play, And diffrence none is made betwixt the lawes deuine, and lay. What God commaundeth to be ſhund, or willeth to be wrought, Is to the eares a torment great, and dreadfull poyſon thought. Nor vnto him they ſeeke for ayde, nor confidence they haue, But rather ſéeke to ſtockes and ſtones, than him that all doth ſaue. No honor to their parents due, at any time they pay, A hell it is to feele the yoke, or maiſter to obay. The minde deſires to runne at large, and raunge at libertée, The bloud doth boyle about the hearts of ſuch as harmed bée: And ſlaughters great attempted are, and deadly battayles fought, And at the wagging of a ſtraw, good lawes are ſet at nought. Beſide both vile and beaſtly loue in euerie place doth raigne, That none can kéepe the holy rytes of ſacred bed from ſtaine. The Harlots eke among themſelues, their bodyes doe defile: Who can declare the ſhamefull theft, and wayes for to beguile, That commonly with youth doth ſpring? deceyt doth moſt delight, And ſwéete it ſéemes an others goodes to get againſt all right. And looke what wants in doing wrong, with force and wretched will, Is recompenſt with rayling mouth, and ſpitefull language ill. The téeth togither gnaſh, and poyſon fowle abroade do ſpit, As well agaynſt the vnworthie, as ſuch as deſerued it. Diſcention ſowne, and lyes abrode in eurye place do raigne, And filthie talke, and wordes vncleane, are vſde of wretches vaine. The ſimple man deceyued ſtill, with wordes that fayned bée, And from the heart the flattring tongue doth alwayes diſagrée. As raging ſeas with boyſtrous windes do ſwell aloft and rore, And driue the mountaynes of their waues againſt the rocken ſhore: Euen ſo the wretched fiend of man, both euery day and night, Spewes out his filth, and ioyes to offende the ſoueraigne Lord of light. Ne thinkes he méete for him it is to sléepe, to drinke, to eate, Except he do before commit, ſome haynous treſpaſſe greate. Thus in the heart of man the prince of hell had ſowne his ſéedes, And ouergrowne his precious plantes, with his vngracious wéedes, And had oppreſſed godlineſſe, while it was yet but gréene, That ſcarcely any where the ſteppes of vertue might be ſéene. And brought vnto the Chaynes of death, and miſery all their dayes. Men firſt created vnto life, and to th'almighties prayſe. Poore Adam ſpoyled of his grace, in naked plight and bare, Perceyued ſtreight this helliſh ſéede and neuer ceaſſing care. Wherefore in Figtrée veſture clad, himſelfe by flight he hydes, Both doubting of the mercy of God, and of his life beſides. Whoſe ſight he ſhoonnes, and eke his voyce he quaketh for to heare, As doth the Chicken of the Kyte, or Oxe of Lion neare. And ſurely vnderneath the yoke of death and dreadfull ſinne, Both he and his poſteritie, for euermore hath béene: But that th'almightie Lorde aboue tooke pittie of his caſe, And gaue agaynſt the deuils thornes, and ſéede of curſed grace, A remedie, an other ſéede, his bleſſed worde deuine, And promiſe of his fauour made, how that in after time, A holy vertuous man and ſtrong, ſhould riſe and ſuccour bring, And tread vpon the ſerpents head, and ceaſſe his deadly ſting. And purge away the ſinnes of man, though loſſe he doe ſuſtaine, Not voyde of ouerpoyſe, but with his profite great and gaine, Commaunded Adam for to ſow this in his ſenſe vnſounde, To oppreſſe thereby (if that he could not plucke out of the ground) The déepe ſet rootes that Sathans hand had planted there afore, And ſo become a huſbandman for him and others more, That after ſprang, and ſo reſiſt by all the meanes he may, The ſerpent ſtill with earneſt prayer, and with a perfite way: And for to teach from hand to hand, to his poſteritie, The art and all the whole effect of holy huſbandrie, The comming of the bleſſed ſéede, and promiſes deuine, That godlineſſe and hope of life might ſtill remaine in time, And be preſerued in the worlde: and that he neuer yéeld, And boldly méete the prince of hell, and face him in the féeld. He ioying in the worde of God, and in his happie ſtate, Of ſkilfull perfite huſbandman that he receyude of late, Withſtood the deuill well, and dreſt his heart with tillage due, And pluckt out nettles, thiſtles, and eche other wéedes that grue. And found againe the loue of God, whereof he felt the ſmell And in the vertuous order of his life declarde it well. The fruit of righteouſneſſe he looude, and all that in him lay, Repreſt the raging of the fleſh, and cauſed it to'bay, He hated euery wicked act, and euery ſinfull lore, That was diſpleaſing vnto God, and all his ſinnes before With prayer and ſtreames of perfite teares, he wypte and waſht away, And all his hope and confidence, in Chriſt doth ſurely lay. This ſame vnto his wife he taught, and to his children deare, And all his ofſpring euery one vnto his lateſt yeare: And then to Seth he left the plowe, who eke committed it To Enock, that applyde it well, with all his force and wit, And ſowde the worde and fayth abrode, with luckie fruitfull hande, And ſo did all the yonger ſort that after ought the lande. Olde Sathan hating all this while, the ſéede ſo promiſed, The chiefe eſtéemers of the ſame, and faithfull brotherhed, And ſéeking all men for to drawe vnto th'infernall raigne, Applyde himſelfe with all his force, and all his helliſh traine, To ouerthrow theſe fathers déedes, and all their worke to ſpoyle, And vnder cloke of truth with lyes, he poyſons all the ſoyle: And in the ſtéede of Godly feare, he ſinfull life reuiues, With heapes of vice, and Godly ſéedes to ſpoyle againe he ſtriues. And now amid the pleaſant corne the pricking thiſtle flowes, And graceleſſe cockle lothſome to the eye it ouergrowes. Sometime the raging ſtormes of haile doth beate it to the ground, And oft conſuming wormes, and drake, and darnell there is found, Or mildewes fowle, or ſtormes of raine, or heate, or froſtie coldes, Sometime a ſunder crackes the plowe, while Camock ſtrongly holdes. Not much the plowmen then preuaylde, and Cayne did firſt beginn To hate his fathers huſbandrie, and ſowe the ſéedes of ſinne: Whom all his iſſue folowed faſt, as one of greateſt ſkill, And better fruite might not be ſéene, than this ſo lewde and ill, Nor godlineſſe was to be found in all the world ſo wide, So that th'almightie father drownde both man and earth beſide, And euery creature hauing life, as iuſtly they deſerude, Saue one poore Barke, that in the flouds of mercie he preſerude. What ſhould I all things call to minde? the world renude againe, Not long regarded vertuous wordes, but folowed pleaſures vaine. Eche godly thing was lothde and left, as men did faſt increaſe, So all things waxed worſe and worſe, and vertue gan to ceaſe. Although the guide of heauen and earth, did euermore prouide, For huſbandmen and prophets good, and ſent his ſonne beſide, In veſture clad of fading fleſhe, of workemen all the chiefe, And author of our life: who though he ſent for our reliefe, His meſſengers and ſeruaunts forth abrode in euery place, To teach the perfite art and way, and ſow the ſéedes of grace: Yet of the dreadfull dragon blacke preuayled much the héed, To tread and ſtampe in euery place vpon this ſacred ſéed. The ſéedes of Gods triumphant worde, were neuer ſo largely ſowne, Nor couered in the heart of man, nor vertue better growne, Nor in ſo many places ſéene ſuch ſtore of goodly graine, As when theſe holy Meſſengers, and their diſciples plaine, Did teach in euery place abrode the arte of huſbandrie, And trode the ſteps of vertuous life for their poſteritie. But ſtreight the enimie poyſoned all, and brought it vnto this, That godlyneſſe in few remaynde, and moſt men ranne amiſſe, And put not for eternall life in Chriſt their onely truſt, So many wéedes of heriſies among the corne he thruſt, And monſtruous droues of rauening wolues, ſuch fierce debate & ſtrife, So many ſuperſtitions vaine, and ſuch deformed life. Now theſe with raging furious heate, he cauſeth for to ſtart: Now thoſe with froſtie coldes congeald, he nyppeth to the hart. And looke how much this wretched worlde to ende doth nearer grow, So much the more he ſtriues the raigne of Chriſt to ouerthrow: And with his filthie ſéede, the heart of man to caſt away, Nor much he forceth them herein, that fall by proper ſway. The olde remaynes of ſinfull rocke, is vnto him an ayde, So is the luſting force of fleſh, with raigne and hed vnſtayde. Agaynſt theſe ylles the ruler of the loftie heauens bright, Sendes out his learned labourers, that ouerturning quight All wickedneſſe, and driuing hence the darkeneſſe farre away, True godlineſſe may plaine appeare, and vertue beare the ſway. And euery one with heart and might, his holy will obay, And follow perfite righteouſneſſe, and hate the wicked way. By whome they may reſtore the hearts, where Sathan had his ſeat, Euen as to let of woonted courſe the running riuer great, And make it paſſe the mountaynes hie, or elſe to quench the flame That entred hath the dryeſt woods, and rageth in the ſame. The paine is great to labor thus agaynſt the ſturdie ſtreames, Or for to bend the aged bough growne hard with Phoebus beames. And as the paynes are great, ſo great rewardes thou ſhalt enioy, When Chriſt ſhall ſhed the ſtinking Goates that did his flocke annoy. When as the dreadfull day of doome, and cleareſt light ſhall ſhine, That ſhall reueale how euery man hath wrought and ſpent his time. And therefore ſhrinke not for no paynes, if that thou mindſt the ſkies, If that thou ſéekſte to ſée the face of God with happie eies. But who deſerues ſo great a gaine, and ſuch a ſtately charge? Or who is méete to tyll and dreſſe a ſoyle ſo fayre and large? As no man takes the Ores in hand, nor thruſtes the plow in ground, Or guides the ſayling ſhip on ſea, or Captaine may be found, Except he wiſe and actiue be, and taught his ſkill in time: So none can out of hande be meete to till the ſoyle deuine. His paterne and his faſhion eke, my Muſes let vs ſée, And howe from youth in euery poynt, he framed ought to bée: What kinde of man in all reſpects, and after let vs tell, The maner how he ought to teach, and order all things well. Firſt let the fauour of his face be good, and countnance clere, Not ſtaynd with lothſome colourde mowle, nor ſpeckled here and there, Nor mangled any where with cuttes, nor let his hed be hie, Or pyked like a Sugerlofe, not ſet with hanging eie, As lowring Bulles are alwayes markte, ne let them hollow bée, Déepe ſetled in their darkned dennes, no Cocles let vs ſée, Nor any blearde or ſquinteyde mate, no hooked hawkiſh beake, Nor ſhort and apiſh turnde vp noſe, nor Pypers puft vp choake, Nor toothde like dogges: who knowes not eke that tillers may not bée Dumbe, deafe, or lame, or ſtammerers, or ſuch as cannot ſée? Away with broken limping legges, and halting hips beſide, No mowlehill caryed on the backe, nor wennes the throte to hide. No lynmie nor member let there want, but all in order due, And in proportion comely framde, and pleaſant to the vew. Leaſt Vulcane with his crooked pace delight the ſcornefull ſort, Or with ſome other fault or maime, do make the people ſport, Reſembling Therſit in his looke, or elſe Corites face, Or Eſope in his lothſome ſhape, or Damon in his grace. Ne let him of a harlot be borne of vnhoneſt fame, By common rut as beaſtes do vſe, or villaines voyde of ſhame. This alſo muſt be lookte vnto, what trade his parents vſed, If no reprochfull kinde of arte that ought to be refuſed, They liude vpon, for trade of life doth often hinder much, And let the worde, that as it ſhould the heart it cannot tuch. Of theſe things alſo other cauſes mayſt thou many bring, For though it lyes not in our power, and though it be a thing We can not doe withall nor helpe, what ſhape ſoeuer fall, By fowle miſhap or parents fault, yet he that gouernes all, Createth nothing here in vaine. For if the faſhion right Of things be altred here from good, and nature chaunged quight, It doth declare ſome great miſhap, and is a perfite ſigne Of Gods appoynted puniſhment, and of his wrath diuine. If that the ſame be ſtainde with blacke, againſt his nature cleare, Or that the moone before the full eclypſed doe appeare: If in the gliſtring ſtarrie night, a blaſing ſtarre doe riſe, And armed men in clowdes appeare, and ſkirmiſh in the ſkies: If ſodenly the ſunne do ſtay, or Planets runnes awrie: If dreadfull ſtreames of bloud doe guſh and fall from heauens hie: Or if amid the market place a ſauage Woolfe doe ſtande, Or beaſt doe ſpeake, who can ſuppoſe that goodneſſe is at hande? Who feares not ſtreight the wrath of God, or who that hath his wit, Will not conceyue ſome great miſchaunce to happen after it? Both nature and examples eke perſwades vs to the ſame, The Grecians eft the ſignes of God haue felt of auncient fame. The like in many ouerthrowes the Romanes prowde haue knowne, Nor raſhly ſéemed the ore to warne, that Rome ſhould kepe hir owne. Sagunthus ſacked, and all hir men in cruell order ſlaine, Did ſhew the infant entred not his mothers wombe in vaine: Did not the armyes, ſworde, and cart, that God in clowds did ſende, Foreſhow Hieruſalems decay, and miſerable ende? And Xerxes might in field before his legges for flight prepare, When as a Mare amongſt his campe did fole a flying Hare. The monſtruous foling of a M yle beſide, did plainly ſhow The loftie walles of Babilon ſhould haue an ouerthrow. We all abhorre theſe monſtrous birthes, as nature vs doth mooue, And ſeldome after them is ſéene, doth any goodneſſe prooue. But moſt of all if women chaunce, ſuch monſtrous ſhapes to beare, If nature faile in thoſe that are the worldly rulers heare. For ſure the outward countnaunce doth declare the inwarde minde, And what lyes hid in ſecret ſenſe, of good or yll we finde. Of any foule yll fauoured face, what lookſte thou for but yll? And who doth not his talke abhorre, and ſhunne his preſence ſtyll? For theſe miſſhapen folkes vnto themſelues or other men, Betoken harme, or elſe a ſigne of froward witte in them. Therefore let not our huſbandman be ſhapte yll fauouredly, Nor any ſuch whoſe parents haue bene ſtaynde with infamie. And if it might be done, I would (a thing we ſeldome ſée) That in his tender youth he ſhould in vertue trayned bee, And from his childhoode learne to loue the Lord, and him to dread, And euermore commit himſelfe to Chriſt his ſoueraigne head: And worſhip him with harmeleſſe hart, in déede and worde alwayes, And ſéeke the thing that moſt may ſounde to his moſt worthie prayſe. Likewiſe to pray that from the ſkies the bleſſed holy ſpright On him may fall: by whome he may teach Chriſt to all men right. Let him to parents dutie ſhew, and honor learne to giue To eche man as his place requires, and as he here doth liue. I would beſide he ſhould be kept with vertuous companie, And ſhunne the graceleſſe ſort of youth, that vſe to prate and lie Leaſt that his fellowes him infect with maners lewde and yll, That hardly after will be le t for any care or ſkill. The die that wooll doth firſt receyue, will hardly out be got, No more than on the Tables newe the firſt deformed ſpot. And this beſide importeth much, if that the parents heare, The nourſe, and eke the ſchoolemaiſter be good, and Chriſt do feare. Thus would I haue him liue with men that good and vertuous bée In yongeſt yeares, when as you liſt you bow the tender trée. And filthie wordes he may not heare, nor vſe at any time, Nor with his eyes beholde the thing that may to yll encline. Beſides in Countrie language muſt he haue a perfite ſkill, And remedie be had, if that his wordes he vtter ill. Nor onely in the vulgar tongue he muſt be throughly ſéene, But alſo in the fountaynes ſwéete of Latine phraſes cléene, And taught the beſt Gramarians that olde or newe haue ben, And read the pureſt wryters firſt, as Cato teacheth him, And heare the beſt, leaſt barbarouſneſſe do him in youth infect, Which once a man, he muſt forſake and vtterly reiect. The Romane ſpeach doth profite much, as openly is ſéene, Which of all other languages, in Europe is the Quéene. The auncient Romanes as they did their Empire large extende, Vnto the froſtie Northren pole, where earth doth ſéeme to ende, And to the flouds of Euphrates, and mightie Parthians raigne, To foote of loftie Atlas mount, that doth the ſkies ſuſtaine: So was their tongue through all the worlde diſperſed here and there, And for their ſcepter and their ſworde, was reurenſt eurye where. For in this tongue the ſubiects all their aunſwere euer had, And all their prowde Edicts and lawes, in this were likewiſe made. And hitherto whereſoeuer the Empire large of Rome doth raigne, In eſtimation is it had, and honour great doth gaine. Beſides it famous is for holy bookes and woorkes prophane, Wherein to haue no ſkill, were to our huſbandman a ſhame. By this we tread the path that leades to eurye ſcience hie, Whereto by vulgar ſpeach, we neuer can approch ſo nie. For this ſame cauſe, and for the learnde and godly wryters ſake, That long tyme ſince in teaching Chriſt, did paines and trauaile take. Let him the Grecians tongue pervſe: and for the volumes graue Of Moyſes and the Prophets olde, the Hebrue let him haue. And ioyne thereto the Chaldean ſpeach: the water that is ſhed Thorow many veſſels, cooles not ſo as doth the fountaynes hed. Eche thing himſelfe let him pervſe, and knowe the ſpeach deuine, And not depend on other men, to preach as they aſſigne. Therefore let him apply the tongues, wherein were firſt enrolde The holy lawes that God did giue vnto our fathers olde. And weigh the rules and title well, and what eche worde doth mean Know perfitely, that in the phraſe he may be throughly ſéene. For of the name a knowledge great in matters oft is found, And fond it is for men to talke, and not to know their ground. Wherein a number great of men haue mooude the ſkilfull ſort, To laugh to ſcorne their ignorance, whereof they made a ſport. For as in all things, names and wordes doe greatly ſignifie, So moſt of all in ſcriptures where both oft and commonly, The letters ſmall and little prickes, doe miſteries containe, Which no good man will ſleightly way or count as matters vaine. The figures and the diuers tropes that in theſe ſpeaches are, Let him beſide well vnderſtand, for oft the ſenſe they marre That are vnſkilfull in the ſame, whereby they vtter lyes Vnto the ſimple common ſort in ſtéede of verities. Whence ſprings ſuch heapes of errors nowe as at this day doe raigne Or hurly burlyes that do rage among the people vaine: But onely that a great ſort are, ſo to the letters bounde, As can no Metaphor allowe, nor any figure ſounde? Of this muſt miſchiefe néedes enſue, no tropes yet I allow, Except the text require the ſame, or charitie auow. For in the ſcripture certaintie the people muſt be taught, And one thing ſtill that they may know, what good and what is naught. Nor méete it is to force the phraſe, to ſenſes many mo, When nothing doth compell thée from the verie wordes to go, Leaſt things aſſurde be doubtfull made, and charitie be broke, Nor any phraſe may iudged be by figure to be ſpoke, Except the ſame in other place be open told and plaine, For elſe to thinke a myſterie in figure hid is vaine. That ſpeach doth moſt delight the eares, and winnes the peoples prayſe That ſundrie ſortes is varied oft, and turnde a thouſand wayes. But thou take héede thou doſt not wreſt, the text out of his kinde, Nor play with holy ſcriptures, for to pleaſe thy fooliſh minde: Which now is vſde of many men, a dreadfull thing to ſée. Conſider thou and ponder well, what thing may méeteſt bée, And profite moſt the common ſort, and rude vnruly traine, Before that thou delight their eares, or play with them in vaine. Not onely olde Palaemons arte, our huſbandmen muſt haue, But great Chryſippus cunning to, and ſkill of Zeno graue, Not therewithall to ſcolde or brawle, as ſchoole men vſe to play, Or to beguile the ſimple ſort, and wipe the truth away: But better to defend the dartes of deadly enimie, Or for to breake the ſnares and ginnes of ſuch as teach awrie. For theirs it is aboue the reſt to aunſwere all men here, That queſtion mooue of faith and hope, or doubtes that doe appere, To kéepe their doctrine and their flocke, agaynſt the gréedie woolfe. Now if they know the ſnares and trappes, and depth of euery goolfe And eaſly can diſcerne the truth, and falſhood put away, Then ſtill the truth they ſhall preſerue, and neuer it betray, Nor cauſe it to be ieſted at, nor for to ſuffer wrong. For if to mortall myſers here, deſtruction doth belong, That know not Chriſt the ſauiour hie, nor his religion pure: What ſhall we of the teachers thinke, whoſe want of ſkill procure, Not to themſelues alone, but to a hundred thouſand mo, By error harme, who led to hell by their perſwaſion go. Who doubtes that reading of the workes of famous Cicero, Is néedefull for our huſbandman, and well agréeing tho, The art of ſpeaking faire and plaine, this méeteſt is to know, The pleaſant filed ſpeach that from the learned breaſt doth flow, The quick and well perſwading tongue, that knowes wel how to deale What matters ſecrete for to kéepe, and what for to reueale: And to obſerue the chaunge of time the perſons and the place, This is the plowe of huſbandmen, that riddeth worke apace. Let children out of order prate, and people gape and gale, It doth beſéeme a preacher well, by art to frame his tale. Nor any thing againſt vs heare the minde of Paule doth make, Nor yet vnlearned kinde of wordes, that Chriſtes Apoſtles ſpake. Where diuers cauſes euer be (as hath bene alwayes ſayde) Effects are diuers to be ſéene, and to be thorowly wayde. We may not therefore follow them, in euery thing aright, Since that our cauſes differ much, and caſe is altred quight. Who knoweth not that otherwiſe we alwayes ought to ſpeake, Vnto the learnde and ſkilfull ſort, than to the yong and weake? The firſt beginnings of our fayth, they did the Gentiles teach, Which néeded not a filed phraiſe, and curious tongue to preach, But rather of the power of God to mooue them therevnto. Wherefore the Lorde did giue them power, great wonders for to do. That might vnto the worde giue force, though learning were away, That thus perſwaded to the fayth, they could not truely ſay That eloquence had trayned them for to beléeue on Chriſt, But that it was the holy ſpirite and vertue of the hieſt. Beſide the principles may not be taught, by curious art or wit, Nor néedes a Rhethoricians tongue in the perſwading it. But ſtedfaſtly we muſt beléeue the firſt beginnings well, Therefore it is but vaine, a fine and pleaſant tale to tell, Vnto the rude vnſkilfull ſort, that doe the groundes denie, As of no myracles they néede, nor wonders from the ſkie, That knowe the true and certaine path, and after Chriſt haue ſought, But from the Craddle, Chriſt and his decrées to vs are tought. In theſe our tender yeares we néede plaine wordes, not loftie ſpeach, But rather ayde of holy ſpirite, and faythfull man to teach. But after Chriſt and fayth is got, then vſe the •• neſt kinde, Of Rhetoricke, and colours all, to mooue the ſlouthfull minde. Inflame their hartes with loue of Chriſt, and God continually, Perſwade them wickedneſſe to hate and all Idolatry: And vertue alwayes to embrace, in goodneſſe to delight, And wickedneſſe to ſhunne and hate, and euery ſinfull ſight, To leaue their hard and flintie hartes, prouoking God to yre, To feare the threatnings of his worde, and euerlaſting fyre: To ſhed their ſaltiſh teares for ſinne, and all their confidence On Gods great mercie for to ſet (who pardons eche offence) Aſſured of his fauour great, extolling him alway: On this beſtow thy Rhetoricke, and all that thou canſt ſay. And likewiſe if thou choſen be, to fight againſt the traine Of Sathan, errors to ſuppreſſe, and truth for to maintaine. For though as ſharpe and fierie ſworde, the worde of God we ſée, Doth pearce into the déepeſt part of hardeſt hearts that bée: And as a heauie hammer great, breakes all that doth withſtand, Yet is the force increaſed much, by helpe of perfite hand: Euen as the wounde is déeper cut, that ſtronger hand doth make, And ſooner breake ye ſtone, which maule with ſtronger arme doth ſhake. Vſe Rethoricke therefore huſbandman, and ſet thy whole delight, In furthring of the worde of God with all thy force and might. For Paule among the perfite ſort, did déepely ſtill entreate, And fed the weaker ſort with milke, refuſing ſtronger meate. What ſhould I ſhewe how eloquent they were, and eke how fine, That wrote their worthie volumes neare vnto the Apoſtles time. Chooſe where thou likeſt among the Gréekes, or all the Latine rowtes, None hateth Rethoricke certainely, but ſlouthfull drowſie lowtes, And gorbellyes that euermore doe ſet their whole delight, In liuing laſily at home, and ſléeping day and night. Our huſbandman muſt yet attempt, the other ſtudyes all, That tearmed are of auncient men, the learnings liberall, None of the things that here to God or man belonging bée, Are voyde of number dealt withall. Th'almightie Maieſtée Framde eche thing with his perfite poyſe, and numbred euery thing, The art of numbring pleaſant is, and profite great doth bring. In this alone from brutiſhe beaſtes, we men doe differ here, So would th'almightie king, when firſt he made vs rule to bere, And Lordes of all things that he framde, appoynted vs to bée, That perfitely we might pervſe eche thing in his degree, That in the ſkies or earth he made, eche thing he did deuide, Both generally, particular, and minutes ſmall beſide: That waying ſo his wondrous workes, and vſing well the ſame, We ſhould extoll his worthineſſe, and prayſe his holy name. The ſkill of heauenly motions eke, doth to the ſame encline, Than which amongſt vs men there is, no knowledge more diuine, Nor more that brings vs to the loue, of God himſelfe aboue, Nor farther liftes vs from the earth, and to the ſkies doth moue. Who woonders not to ſée the Sunne and Moone continuallie, To kéepe their courſe, and planets faire, and gliſtring ſtarres in ſkie, And prayſeth not the hande of God, that them did thus create, And doth not count himſelfe to be in paſſing happie ſtate? Who ſhall inioy that bleſſed houſe, whoſe walles ſo outward ſhine, With Princely beautie garniſhed, and figures framed fine? For néedes he muſt ſuppoſe, that greater things remaine within, Nor in he here deceyude, for neyther eye hath euer ſéene, Nor eare hath heard, nor any heart of mortall man might déeme, The ioyes that God prepared hath, for ſuch as him eſtéeme. Wherefore a pleaſant ſtudie ſure, and apteſt for our minde, Is this that doth the ſkies beholde, and ſtarres of euery kinde. Our countnance ſéemes to prooue the ſame, that lifted vp a hie, Is framde as it appoynted were for to beholde the ſkie. Beſide it ſtandeth man in ſtéede for many vſes here, For whoſe behoofe the Lorde hath made, eche thing that doth appere. By face of heauen, and moouing of the Moone and Phoebus crowne, And by the thrée folde riſing of the ſtarres and going downe. The Lorde deuided tymes, and did appoynt the day and night, The chaunge of yeares and monthes and houres, both equall & vnright. And ſet them ſignes of winter blacke, and of the chearfull ſpring, Of burning Sommer, and the time that rypeſt fruites doth bring, Of weather faire and fowle or ſtormes and tempeſtes that ariſe, And tokens for the Mariner that on the water lyes, And for the huſbandman that in the ground his ſéede doth ſow: Hereto the Northren Pole doth ſerue, the beare and beareward ſlow, The monſtrous Waine of Charles, the Goate and little Kiddes withal, And Hyades that tempeſt ſhowes, when as they riſe or fall: Orion eke that winter brings, with ſworde and dreadfull face, And vnderneath his féete the Hare, whom Syrian Curre doth chaſe, And many other goodly ſtarres, and pictures in the ſkie, Beſides the twelue familiar ſignes that in the Zodiake lie. Theſe ought our huſband man to knowe, and throughly to pervſe, Bicauſe of holy ſcripture, and that oft they come in vſe. And leaſt he ſhould not vnderſtand, the things that euen thoſe That rude and common people be, are able to diſcloſe. I ſuffer not the Chaldeyes here, ne yet the Aradians vayne, Who thinke that euery thing is wrought, by force of ſtarrie raigne, And fearefull in their matters, wey what ſigne doth vpward ſpring, Deuiding all the heauens great (a ſtraunge and monſtrous thing) To houſes twelue, and boldly than their figure vp they rere, Aſſigning to the Lorde of birth, eche mans conditions here. Than Planets plaſe, and marking how their fond aſſpects do runne, The buſſardes blinde doe ſtreight wayes iudge what good or yll to come? How ſhort or long his life ſhall be, that than the mother beares, What welth he ſhall obtaine, and how, and in what ſpace of yeares, What brethren, and what ſiſters, or what parents he ſhall haue, What maiſters, or what ſickneſſes, and when he goes to graue. They likewiſe of his mariage iudge, what wife he ſhall obtaine, And in what ſort ſhe ſhall be got, with pleaſure, or with paine. Then of his honeſtie they déeme, and his diſhoneſt life, What friendſhip he ſhall alwayes finde, what hatred, or what ſtrife. Beſides, of ſignes they monſtrous things and wonders doe declare, Appoynting of the lineaments of man to eche his ſhare, Without the which they may not toucht, or euer mooued bée, Whereon both death dependes they ſay, and life in their degrée. Then to the ſeauen wandring ſtarres, they houſes doe aſſigne Perhaps for feare of baniſhment, when here or there they clime. And which of them are hote or colde, or doe with moyſtneſſe flow, Which drie, or which are ſwift in courſe, or which in moouing ſlow, Which blacke, or white, or yellow are, which gréene or red doe ſhine, Which of them of the womens ſexe, or which are maſculine. Theſe things they boldly do affirme, and with as ſober grace, As if they late from heauen came, and ſaw it face to face. What ſhould I tell how they preſcribe an houre for euery thing? And with their ſuperſtitions, feare on féeble heartes do bring? They teach how that it is not good, this day or that to ſow, Nor for to trim the barraine fieldes, nor cut the woods that grow, Nor for to plant or cut the vines, nor houſes for to make, Nor wane the little ſucking childe, nor men to friendſhip take, Nor for to cut or ſhaue the beard, nor for to dreſſe the handes, Nor for to paſſe from place to place, nor viſite other lande. Nor for to beate the buſhe for birde, nor baite the fiſhers hooke, Nor for to chaſe the fearefull Hart, nor teach the childe his booke, Nor for to take a wife, nor once at Cardes or Dice to play, Nor for to kéepe thy worde, nor thought, nor borowed things to pay, Nor to diſpute of any thing, nor take the lawe in hande, Nor for to cut the bléeding vaine, nor ſeeke the healing hande, To breake no yong vntamed horſe, nor Geldings for to make, To bine no iewels, nor no lande, nor any bargaine take: To ſende no poſtes nor meſſengers, to beare thy friend thy minde, To cut no heare, nor poll the heade, nor ſend thy corne to grinde, Not for to digge or deale with mines, nor houſes faire to make, Nor lately built to dwell therein, nor ſeruaunts for to take, Nor battaile to begin, nor méete in fielde the furious fo, Nor on the ſurging ſeas in Barke for any thing to go. Who can remember all their toyes, a hell they here doe frame, While nothing can be done, except the ſkies permit the ſame? Such Prophetes blinde I doe not like, that in their fooliſhe traunce, Perſwade the common people fonde, that this or that ſhall chaunce: In giuing all things to the ſtarres, that none aliue can knowe, Nor any reaſon nor experience perfitely can ſhowe. I giue them leaue that worldly are, ſuch folly for to vſe, Wherewith themſelues and other men, they fondly may abuſe. But for the other perfite is, and cauſes certaine bee, That from the olde experience of the worlde deriude we ſée. Next to this knowledge is the ſame, that firſt from prick doth ſpring, And teacheth all the trade to meate and meaſure euery thing, As Medowes, Paſtures, Mountaynes great, and valleys large & wide, And loftie ſtately towers, and ſtarres that in the ſkies doe glide. A worthie pleaſant arte is this, for many matters méete, Which néedes our huſbandman muſt oine with other learnings ſwéete. The deareſt daughter of the Muſes now who dare deſpiſe, Or melodie that in the voyce, or in the finger lies? The cares that doe conſume the heart, doth Muſicke driue away, And comforteth the ſad, and rayſeth mindes that troubled lay, Prouoketh teares, and mooueth vnto pittie now and than, Which waies thou wilt doth Muſicke draw the thought & mind of man. It ceaſeth anger great and fierce, and furie doth withſtande, And mooues againe the martiall heart, to take the ſworde in hande, By Muſicke owle and hurtfull ſpirites, are often ouerthrowne, And good are brought, a thing full well to auncient Prophets knowne. The force doth Muſicke eſt augment, and eaſie make the paine, That workemen, ſhipmen, and the plowman doe full oft ſuſtaine. The childe by meanes of Muſicke doth, in Cradell quiet lie, And doth forget the mothers breaſt, and h nger by and ie, The fierce Laconians when they were in battell bent to meete, Terpander ſet them all agréed, by ſong and Muſicke ſwéete. Not men alone are mooude with ſounde of ſwéete and pleaſant note, But alſo birdes and brutiſh beaſtes, and fiſhe in floodes that flote. The loftie prauncing horſe we ſée, in Musicke doth reioyce, The vnweeldie Beare doth alſo leape to heare his mayſters voyce. Arion borne vpon the backe of Dolphyn ſwimming ſure, Doth ſhewe what force in Muſicke is, and what it can procure. Both mountaynes, woods, & hawtie rocks, as auncient men do wright, Did follow Orphaeus for his ſong, and wonderfull delight. Amphion eke the ſonne of Ioue, as ſtories doe declare, With Harpe did cut the ragged ſtones, and brought them into ſquare, Wherewith he built the Thebane walles, and ſtately tower ſtrong, That wayde not all the Grecians force, nor enmyes ſieges long. Th'almightie father hath aſſignde, to euery minde a loue Of Muſicke ſwéete, and would the earth ſhould ſhow the workes aboue. And counterfet them in hir kinde, as neare as here might bée, That hyeſt and the chiefeſt things, with baſeſt might agrée. For doubtleſſe all the heauenly Spheares, that make ſo ſwéete a noyſe, With whirling vp and downe of ſtarres, or elſe of angels voyce, That doe in thouſands ſerue the Lorde, d th to the earth let fall, This ſwéete conſent that mooues the minde, delightes and pleaſeth all. And as this ſame in ſwéeteneſſe farre eche other arte excéedes: So ought it to be well applyde with good and godly déedes: Not vnto wanton pleaſure here, nor fooliſh vaine delight, As men in madneſſe oft doe vſe, oppreſt with wicked ſpright. With good example hath the ſonne of Ieſle taught vs ſo, And Moyſes with his ſhining face, and many Prophets mo. As Paule inſpirde with holy ſpirite, doth teach and will the ſame The Gentils all their prayers eke, in verſe did chiefly frame, And chaunted vp their Hymnes vnto their Gods in ſolemne plight, Perſwaded that their fayned Saintes in Muſicke tooke delight. Our huſbandman therefore muſt not this worthie arte diſdain , But with the chiefeſt ſéeke the top of Muſicke to attaine. Whereby he may extoll the Lord, and mooue the ſluggiſh minde, And what if that in making of a verſe he pleaſure finde? And prooue a chriſtian Poet good? the Prophets olde ſometime Were woont to write there workes in verſe, and pleaſantly to rime. In verſe Apollo aunſwere gaue, Religion and good lawes, Vnto the common ſort were taught, in verſe and Poets ſawes. By Manto, Linus, Amphiaraus, Sibills, and Orphey eke, The maieſtie was alwayes great, in ſtately verſe to ſpeake. With this the vertuous Poets learnd, did pleaſe and well entreate, Both ſimple common people rude, and worthie princes greate. Nowe tyme it is the nature ſtraunge, and cauſe of things to know, And whatſoeuer learned men, in Phiſicks carſt did ſhow. Although they are but laughing ſtockes, and dotars commonly, And that you ſooner may the North and South togither tye, And ioyne vnto the brittiſh ſhore, the Perſian dignitie, Then for to cauſe their diuers mindes, in one for to agrée. Nor maruaile when without the light, that from the ſcriptures ſprings, They raſhly iudge of hed and ende, and order right of things. As if a blinde man in the way would make himſelfe a guide, Or iudge of colours which were fairſt, or which were better dide. It ſhall not hurt thée much theſe things (though fond) in hand to take, And lightly to pervſe and ſée, for lyes doe often make The truth to be eſtéemed more, and of more for e to ſhowe. Both ſwéete it is, and I allow the cauſe of things to knowe. But ſuch as certaine are, and ſuch as no man can denie, Of knowledge certaine endes there are, and boundes appoynted lie. The worde of God muſt beare the bell, and ſway in euery thing, And next to that ſuch reaſons good, as wiſe men here doe bring, Muſt be eſteemed as a troth. Be circumſpect in euery thing, if ought thou ſéekſt to finde Concerning heauen, world, and forme, of ſubſtance, or of kinde, Or touching fortune, place, or hap, the elaments and time, Of motion, thunder, winde and ſnow, raine, haile, or froſtie rime. Whereof it comes that pleaſant dewes in Sommer wettes the ſpring, Or what procures the lightning fierce, that pearceth euery thing. What makes the fire oftentymes, in helliſh clowdes to glow, Or why the ſunne in ſhowre appearing, the rainbow ſtreight doth ſhow Why Moone with fogge is compaſt oft, or how the blaſing ſtarre Appeares, that oft is ſigne to men, of famine, death, or warre: Wherefore the earth doth tremble ſo, and Cities ouerturne, And why that Phoebus oftentimes with thréefolde ace doth burn Beſides let him conſider well, if that a good man may Beleue the diſtance of the ſkies to be as they doe ſay. If that the Moone ſo farre excéede the earth in quantitée, Or if the ſtarres ſo farre aboue the earth in bigneſſe bée, Or if the Lord created more than two of greateſt light, Or any ſaue the Sunne that paſt the Moone in force and might. Moreouer, land and ſeas pervſe, and marke their natures plaine, And all that in the earth or ayre, or in the ſeas remaine. But for theſe ſtraunge and forraine things, men ought not ſo to care, As for our nearer neighbors much, that in vs dwelling are. Vnto our proper houſes therefore, let vs come and ſée, What wondrous things by natures handes in vs created bée, How much we doe excell and paſſe, eche other worldly kinde, Whoſe rulers and correctors here, the Lorde hath vs aſſignde. What giftes of minde we doe enioy, and what of bodie here, What vertuouſly of vs is wrought, and what doth lewde appere. Theſe things are firſt to be peruſde, that we may perfitely, Both knowe our ſelues, and eke the things that are to vs ſo nie. Fond is it to be wiſe abrode, and onely for to ſée The outwarde things, while as at home like buſſards blind we bée. But here me thinkes ſome laſte lowte ſhould ſay to me. O how Suppoſe you ſir that méete it is your plowman firſt to know Theſe things, before he till his ground, and holy plow doe holde: What ſay you to the Apoſtles than, and to the Prophets olde, Where euer finde you that theſe men were learned in this ſort: Or who would credite him that any ſuch thing would report. Beſides but few ſuch plowmen could be got as you deſire, Whereas the harueſt of the Lorde, doth numbers great require. The time hath ben when men of god, without their bookes were taught, And diuers ſodainely by him, to ſtate of Prophets brought. So fiſhers and vnſkilfull men, by force of holy ſpright, He made the teachers of the world, and ſhowes of perfite light. Beſides a number more of ſuch, his mightie hand did frame, Not for to breake dame Natures lawes, and alter quite the ſame, But for to ſhewe his mightie force, and great prerogatiue, And that he was not tyed to ſleaue of any thing aliue. We may not therefore giue our ſelues, to gape for wonders ſtill, But as the guiſe of men requires, we muſt conforme our will, Till God do worke in other ſorte, and other meanes doth giue. In ſterne and barren wilderneſſe the Iewes ſometime did liue, And neyther plowde, nor ſowde, nor reapte, in fortie winters ſpace: And were not he ſtarke madde that now would looke for ſuch a grace, And like an ydle lubber ſit, and take no kinde of paine With hande nor foote, for him or his a liuing for to gaine? Or gape to haue the Rauens come, or widdow at his néede, Who at the bidding of the Lorde, Helias once did féede. The Riuer great of Iordan once, and eke the fearefull ſeas, Through might of God, and all on foote, the Hebrues paſt with eaſe. Now néede we when we paſſe theſe floods, both darke, and 〈◊〉 & ſaile, And Tiphys eke to holde the helme, leaſt on the ſeas we auaile Thus are we bound to learne whatſoeuer, on earth we knowe or ſée, That may vnto the honour great of God and glorie bée. Ne muſt they looke for ydleneſſe, that will be huſbandmen, Leaſt that the Lorde be tempted ſo, and iuſtly plague vs then, For our contempt and ſlouthfulneſſe, example here let bée, The franticke Anabaptiſtes that in any place we ſée: Who hating bookes and learned artes, doe count it vertue graue, No ſkill in any language, ſaue their Countrie tongue to haue: And leaping lately from the ſhop of Shoomakers, or ſuch, Are not aſhamde the Preachers place with greaſie handes to tuch, Still boaſting of the holy ghoſt, and ſo with paſſing pride, They hedlong throwe themſelues to hell, and numbers great beſide, By teaching falſe and fooliſh things, the Prophets eke deuine, Good Moyſes firſt in Pharaos houſe, applyde the Muſes nine, Before he taught the worde of God, or traynde the Iewiſh hartes, And Daniel did refuſe the Chaldeans meate, but not their artes. Paule of a learned Doctor in Ieruſalem was tought, And not alonely in the ſcriptures to excell was thought, But in the Grecian eloquence, and ſciences prophane, Wherein to be exactly learnde, he alwayes had the name. With which he better armed, put the Gentiles ſoone to flight, And with theſe weapons of their owne, he ouerthrew them quight. At Athens with Aratus wordes, he gaue them all the foyle, And brought agaynſt the Creteans witneſſe of their natiue ſoyle. A man that hedlong threw himſelfe in Etnaes raging flame, Amongſt the people for to gaine an euerlaſting fame. What good and honeſt is among theſe artes, they well may chuſe, And make them for to ſerue their turne, that vertuouſly them vſe. The Egyptians once were robbed of goodes, and ſpoyled vtterly, To increaſe the treaſure of the Lorde, and his to bewtifie. The Gentiles fayth and life we onely are forbidden here, And not their worthie ſciences and ſpringes of learning clere, So that we put them to good vſe, and profite any wayes, Applying them with all our force vnto th'almighties prayſe. Our ſauiour Chriſt commended eke, the Scribe that well was tought, Reſembling him vnto the rich, who from his treaſure brought, Things olde and newe aboundantly. Yea glory doth remaine At home for learned men that do in godlineſſe take paine. As that moſt learned Prophet ſong, and plainely did declare, He whom the cruell Lions in their dreadfull denne did ſpare, Rude ruſticall vnſkilfulneſſe deſerues no prayſe at all, But lothſome is in him to whom the ſacred plow ſhall fall. Who doth allow the layſie lobbe? where is not ſlouth vnméete? The hony gathering Bées are prayſde, bicauſe in ſpringtime ſwéete, With dayly labour great they make the wholſome honie good. The little Ant doth frame his houſe with trauaile in the wood, And on his backe a greater burthen than himſelfe doth lay, And thruſteth vp his corne in caue agaynſt the winter day. Why ſhould not likewiſe in our huſbandmen ſuch care appere, In thoſe whom God appoynted hath the worldes correctors here? No loytring leyſure here was left, but buſineſſe to be done, Which faythfull ſeruaunts ſhould applie vntill their maiſter come. That fewe ſuch ſeruaunts at this time in any countrie bée, Who doth not know? and eke the cauſe I thinke eche man doth ſée. Some ſéeke their owne commoditie, and belly well to fill, And ſome in fieldes of ydleneſſe, doe loue to lynger ſtill. But ſeldome any man t'aduaunce the prayſe of Chriſt deſires, Nor weyes what labours great and toyle, the heart of man requires. Therefore the fieldes doe barraine lie, and brambles thicke doth bring, And Cockle fowle abundantly, in euery place doth ſpring. The tender ſhéepe diſperſed are, and faint and ſicke they bée, And féede vpon the poyſoned plantes that in the Marſh they ſée. Yet none vouchſafes for to redreſſe this miſerable caſe, Thou wouldeſt ſuppoſe that all had ſworne togither now in place. The deuill and the raging worlde, and princes of eſtate, And all the ſhauen plowmen here, that euermore doe prate, And talke of Chriſt and boaſt themſelues to be his ſeruaunts true, That blinded mindes of men might not with wholſome tillage due, Be brought vnto a bleſſed ſtate, nor perfite ſéedes be ſowne, And gratefull harueſt vnto God, with great aduauntage mowne. What wages to theſe ſeruaunts lewde and deuliſh kingdome here Shall God aſſigne, when on his iudgement ſeate he ſhall appere? With pacience let them looke for that, and beare their owne contempt, We mindefull of our matter here, will better things attempt. Now muſt our huſband frame himſelfe a vertuous man to bée. That both his teaching and his life, may iuſtly here agrée, Leaſt teaching others, he himſelfe doth miſſe the perfite way, And bring the worde to bide reproche, and building to decay. Aboue all things he muſt beware of pride and loftie minde, The perfite following here of Chriſt, who liued in loweſt kinde, (Who muſt be their aſſured marke) doth not allow the ſame In chriſtenmen, and eke aboue the reſt, it is a ſhame For any ſeruant to preſume aboue his maiſters grée, And for to chalenge pri cely ſtate, and worldly ſoueraintée. Where Chriſt the Lord with bloudie ſweate, & face with ſpittle ſtainde, And blowes, and mockes 〈◊〉 beare his croſſe, and cruell death ſuſtainde. Who hateth not Neſtorius voyce, and wordes deſeruing blame? Or pride of Paule, the Biſhop once of Antioche the ſame That cleare Orontes paſſeth by? who doth not here repine, To ſée the chriſtian huſbandman, the ſteps of Maximine The prowde to treade, and both his handes, and ſtinking wretched féete. To let be kiſt, and borne on backs of men with pompe vnméete, Beſet about with precious ſtones, all clad in rich aray, Like Perſean prince or Emprour great that beares in Inde the ſway. Let kings purſue ſuch pompe and pride, and our poore huſbandman, Content himſelfe with meane eſtate, not looking hier than Confeſſing not alone himſelfe a ſeruaunt here in name, But both in countnance, weede, and voyce, and life, declare the ſame. Directing all the order of his life by Chriſt alone, And making him the marke of ſauing health, and others none. There is no cauſe why man ſhould ſwell with pride, or ſuch diſdaine, For noble bloud, or welthie ſtate, or ſhape of bodie vaine, Or troupe of men, or learned ſhow, or titles gotten graue, Or any other kinde of thing. (For what is all we haue?) Since that we were created here, with all that in vs lyes, Eche one to be an others helpe, which if we doe diſpiſe, And looke aloft with hautie minde, and thinke to beare a ſway, The greateſt giftes that here we haue will turne to our decay. Beſide the ſeruant of the Lorde muſt not inflamed bée, With wrath, or yre, nor frowning looke, as beaſtes that oft we ſée, With hurtfull hornes do runne vpon ſuch as do come in ſight, And threaten with their countnance fierce, continually to fight. Let gentle mindes be ſhrowded ſtill, with milde and comely chéere, And in the ſeruant of the Lorde, Chriſtes Image plaine appéere: Leaſt that before he gin to ſpeake or clime the Pulpet hie, The people ſtreight ſuſpecting harme, for feare away doe flie. And let him learne both wordes and déedes to ſuffer paciently, Contemning diuers things, and moſt eſtéeming not a flie. A noble heart in bodie beare, not mooude with eaſie winde And take good héede he neuer ſpeake no wordes of wrathfull kinde Forbearing grinding with his téeth, and frowning with his face, And moſt of all from ſkirmiſhing with hande or fiſt in place. Such anger doth not well agrée, that he ſhall eft diſpiſe, And thinke vnméete for common people rude to exerciſe. Who can abide Amphitrions ſonne, on O ta for to ſée, Or viewe the face of Aiax fierce, while in his furie hée Deſtroyes the poore vnguiltie beaſtes Vlyſſes for to kill? Who will not ſhunne the companie and friendſhip all to yll Of mad Eurilochus, while as he doth purſue in chaſe His man, with ſpit and meate in hande vnto the Market place? Who can delight in Commodus, that in his raging yre, For trifles caſt the maiſter of his bathes into the fyre? Or who doth not Comedes his wicked act deteſt, That Samſon like in furious rage, a ſchoole of boyes oppreſt? Let rage and wrath be driuen hence, nor let him euer ſpeake With bitter wordes to any man, his malice for to wreake, Nor coole his minde with Stygian ſtreame, nor any man defame, In euery matter let him learne to kéepe his tongue in frame. And talke of pleaſant things and good, not prating much the while, The chattring tongue is lothſome ſtill, and fooliſh ſpeach is vile, And full of lyes is alwayes ſcornde. To rule the tongue aright Is acceptable vnto God, and vnto euery Wight.
The ſpirituall Husbandrie. The ſecond Booke. THeſe things as méeteſt to be kept of plowmen all we thought, And more beſide (my gracious Lordes) yt they be chiefly taught To ſhunne all gréedie auarice, and fowle deſire of gaine, A thing that alwayes cōmonly amongſt theſe men doth raigne: And therefore are they oft reprooude at common peoples handes. This is the worſt they teach men to diſpiſe both goodes and lande And euery other fading thing, and worldly vaine delight, And onely for to ſet their mindes vpon the heauens bright. For when aboue the reſt they ſéeke, for riches gredilie, What doe they elſe but plaine confeſſe, and truely teſtifie, That to no other ende their paynes, in teaching this they take, Than for to ſcrape vnto themſelues that other men forſake? As in Vicenza ſometime did a carefull Vſurer, (The ſtorie is not very long) it chaunſt this man to heare, That in the towne a learned man of eloquence profounde, Did preach in euery place abrode where Vſurie was founde, Condemning much the vſe thereof, and eke the filthie gaine. To him he comes and gréetes him well, and thankes him for his paine, And prayſe him much for to procéede, in blaming of this vice, And to diſſwade the Citizens from filthie auarice. Declaring eke the greatneſſe of the ſinne and wretched ſtate, And how that God aboue all other vices this doth hate: What torments they ſhall haue in hell, when as the world doth ende. And howe they ſhall be puniſhed that ſo their money lende. Thus while with tedious talke he doth moleſt the aged man, Rehearſing oftentymes the wordes that he before began: What mooueth thée, quoth he, for to deſire this thing ſo much, Since thou thy ſelfe art one of thoſe that it doth chiefly tuch. Forſooth quoth he, for nothing elſe, but when they all were gone Through your diſſwaſion good, I might receyue this gaine alone. That now am peſtred with the preaſe, and pinched with my ſhewes. None otherwiſe (their déedes report) theſe plowmen all doe vſe, Whom well thou mayſt perceyue to mocke, and with the world to play, For earthly things they ſtill doe teach, to leaue and caſt away. And for to ſet the whole delight vpon the heauens hie: While as themſelues the things aboue eſtéeming not a flie. But leauing farre behinde their backes, with all their force and might Do hunt for earthly riches here, and fooliſh fonde delight. And looke what people, Princes, Dukes, and mightie Monarches bigge Haue throwne away, they cheſt it vp, and giue them all the figge. And yet no ende of gayning here deuiſes fine they haue, To ſpoyſe as well the liuing here, as thoſe that lie in graue. O God forbid our huſbandman, ſhould labour in this plight, And teach the people one thing here, and doe contrarie quight. Nor let him be addicted thus to lucre and to gaine, Nor for to ſet his heart and minde on wicked treaſures vaine. Let him content himſelfe to liue in ſlender ſimple grée. That muſt a Captaine kéepe the field where bloudie battailes bée. The ſimple man whoſe purſe is light, dare boldely méete his fo, Whereas the riche man feareth from his riches for to go, To put his life in ieopardie that now ſo well is ſped, Who for to lead a pleaſant life and voyde of care and dred. Eſtéemes nothing that doth belong to God nor honeſtie, Comparing gaine what kinde of thing doe we more common ſée? Who knoweth not that Pluto hath bene alwayes counted heare, Of Poets blinded of his ſight, and full of fainting feare? Who ſo hath any thing to loſe, and doth it much eſtéeme, Dare not controll the hie eſtates or ſuch as mightie ſéeme, Nor warne the great man of his fault, that runneth here awrie, Nor teach him how to doe to God his dutie faythfullie. Where as ſo many Princes dote, and ſinfull crimes commit, Regarding neyther Gods decrées nor lawes of man a whit: And ſuch great ſtore of huſbandmen vpon their Courts attend, How chaunceth it that none of them doe mooue them to amend, Or tell them that they doe amiſſe? but rather flatter ſtill, Or paſſe their time with ſilence dumme, not ſpeaking good nor yll? Aſſuredly the hope of Golde, and pleaſant princely fare, And loue of men conſtrayneth them hereof to haue no care. Our huſbandman muſt here diſpiſe both riches, worlde, and ſtrife, And neyther weigh the Princes wrath, nor hazarde of his life. Of Ieſus ſtill reſpecting moſt, the honor and the welth, His owne eſtate and office greate, and peoples ſauing helth. If that the common people rude through couetous deſire, Runne hedlong in the deuils chaines to euerlaſting fire. What goulfe of torments doth remaine for learned men that preach, And moſt of all for welth and graine, with gréedie hande doe reache: The learned bent to any vice in madneſſe doth excéede, And runne with greater ſway and ſwing to euery wicked déede, Their folly eke appeareth moſt when as they doe offende, And vnto hell with ſwifteſt pace themſelues they alwayes ſende. Example of this wretched crime, and of the vengeaunce dewe Doth Iudas giue that hung himſelfe, and eke the king that ſlewe Yong Polidor for money ſake: a lyke example méete Is he that once was hoyſt aloft, and hanged by the féete, Whoſe hed was downewarde thruſt by force into Pactolus great, Bethſaydas brood with fearefull wordes, doth Simon Magus threat, Deſirous for to buy with golde the giftes from heauen ſent, Whereby he might be ſooner riche, who after Sathan went. Let loue of Golde therefore be ſhunde, and gréedie thirſt of gaine, Leaſt Plowmen bring themſelues and others, both to endleſſe paine. Beſides let luſt and daintineſſe be clearely caſt away, With fowle exceſſe of meate and drinke, and Perſian prowde aray: Which things who ſéekes for to maintaine, no liuing great muſt lacke, Offendeth aye the people much, and kéepes the Goſpell backe. Let dronkenneſſe be farre from hence, and loue of pleaſant wines, Which both decay the force and witte, and vnto vice inclines. Nor let them oft the Tables vſe of great and welthie men, Leaſt they through daintie fare be thought to fawne and flatter them, And to betray the precious truth, for oft it haps thereby, Their mouthes ſtopt vp they dare not ſpeake the truth vnfaynedly. But as I would our huſbandman, theſe foreſayde faults ſhould ſhunne, So will I not aduiſe that he to vice contrary runne. Ne prayſe I life in ryot ſpent, nor like I ſlouens guiſe, Nor ſauage life with veſture fonde in moſt vnſéemely wiſe. Such as abide the voyce of ſuch as them haue well aduiſde, Like Demea rude, or Timon, he that all the worlde deſpiſde. I like not daintie A iſtip, nor beaſtly Cinicks ſort, Nor tables of the Sybarit , nor yet king Porus port. As prowde is he that féedes on rootes, and goth but poorely clad, And oftentymes aſmuch deſires in honor to be had, As Perſian Prince arayde with golde, and gliſtring in the eie, Or yet Lucullus vſing ſtill to fare ſo daintilie. All ſuperſtition hatefull is, exceſſe deſerueth blame, If any way to much thou doeſt thy minde and fancie frame. Democritus I doe condemne, nor Craſſus doe I prayſe, Let meaſure be obſerude and kept in euery thing alwayes. With meane contented kéepe thy ſelfe, and therein moſt delight, For vertue placed there doth lye, as Homer well doth wright. A haynous cryme by publicke fame hath toucht mine eares of late, A piteous thing for to beholde, and miſerable ſtate. Wherſoeuer the worthie name of Chriſt hath bene reputed hie, There whoremongers in euery place, and harl ts ſwarming lie: Aduoutryes fowle and ſhamefull actes, doe rage in euery place, In tauernes, hie wayes, ſtréetes, and eke amid the Market place: Whereof good chriſtian people ſhould not once declare the name, Much leſſe abide or haunt the thing, allowing well the ſame. Nor onely on the people doth this ſinke of miſchiefes light, Who ſcarcely knowe the will of God, nor how to ſerue him right: But chiefly on their guides, and on the huſbandmen profeſt, Who know the Lords commaundments well, and brag aboue the reſt, In things belonging vnto God, in all dominions wide, Moſt ſkill to haue and terme themſelues the maiſters chiefe beſide. O ſhame with tongue not to be toucht, and fowle iniquitée, Beholde thy huſbandmen, O Chriſt (if that it lawfull bée, To call them thine that nowe doe folde, and roll themſelues within Thy ſacred name as lothſome Apes in princely Lions ſkin.) Aufidius maners vſe, and in Sardanapalus guiſe, Doe leade their life, and alwayes paſſe their time in pleaſure ſo, As Chratis did, Semiramis, and Xerxes long a go, As men that neuer trayned were, nor foſtred in thy lawe, Or knewe thy dreadfull worde deuine, or ſtoode thereof in awe. Or brought vp in the boſome of thy chaſte and ſacred folde, But in the Capraean Iles whereas Tiberius built his holde, Where from their tender youth they vſe to drinke and reade the while The bawdie booke of Sotades, and Eelephantis vile. What country is there in the world, where Chriſt his name is knowne, And Popiſh lawes by tyranny hath earſt bene euer ſowne? What Colledges can you report, what Cities great of name, What villages in Chriſtendome, or townes of any fame? Wherein the huſbandmen themſelues from harlots do refraine, Where as no great examples fowle of filthie luſt remaine? That ſcape with leſſer puniſhment, and eaſlier delt withall, Than thoſe that breake a light decrée in lawe or ſtatute ſmall. The hyer ſort abuſe themſelues, and liue ſo voyde of ſhame, That iuſtly can they not controll the meaner for the ſame. And dare ſuch beaſtes the bleſſed worde of God to others breake? And both in bodie and ſoule defilde, of holy ſcripture ſpeake? May ſuch diſguiſed wretches full of vice and ſinfull crime, To any man preſume to giue the ſacraments deuine? Who could Autolycus or elſe his craſie father beare, Or Cacus, or Voranus, if they ſhould them plainly heare, Diſſwading men from frawde and theft? who would not all to breake Both Pulpet and the Tables quite, in hearing Caine to ſpeake, And to entreate of brothers loue? or elſe to chaſteſt trade Of life, to heare the mother of Oreſtes mad perſwade? Ariſto, or Paſiphae, of ſhamefaſtneſſe to tell? Or weryed with the vſe of men, yet not contented well. The wife of Caeſar great that paſt in order laſt of all, The ſhameleſſe threſhold of the ſtewes, and hatefull harlots hall? Farre of from hence you godly men, depart and go in haſt, Among the ſeruaunts of the Lorde, go ſéeke for maners chaſt: Whom pure religion beſt becomes, the giftes of God deuine, Receyue not at ſuch filthie handes, nor of ſuch beaſtly ſwine: More wholeſome is the ſtreame by much that from the fountaine cleare Doth runne, than that which durtie ſtandes in lake defiled heare. The Lorde himſelfe cannot abide yll men to handle heare, His holy worde, who once forbad the deuill witneſſe cleare. The like did Paule, who of hir tale the Propheteſſe did breake, And would not ſuffer Phoebus Mayde the certaine truth to ſpeake. Looke you likewiſe you ſuffer not ſuch plowmen as you know, With any open filthineſſe, or wicked vice to flow. The ſwine can neuer wholſomely of holy matters ſpeake, No more than can the Lapwing lewde with fowle and durtie beake. Here therefore let our plowmen learne to liue in chaſtitie, And to reſtraine the raging force that in his fleſh doth lie, For Goſpels ſake, leaſt from the ſame he driue men quite away With filthie life, and from the loue of Chriſt him ſelfe doe ſtray. And vnderneath the dreadfull waues of worldly pleaſures runne, From whence he neuer can eſcape, what néede ſoeuer come. But if he cannot leade his life in perfite chaſtitie, But féeles himſelfe a ſubiect ſtill to fleſhly frailtie, And flameth euermore with luſt: then let him take the holde Of mariage as a remedie, that ſcriptures haue him tolde, And chaſtly therein leade his life among the vertuous crue, This libertie doth God alow, and men haue thought it due. No fault it is t'obay the order of the holy ſpright, But rather reaſon good, and moſt according vnto right. Thus all things well prepared thus, that hereto néedefull bée, Inſtructed eke in euery arte and learned qualitée, With good conditions furniſhed, in minde and bodie cléene, For filthineſſe muſt baniſht be, when ſcriptures muſt be ſéene: Then vnto this let him applie his witte with all his might, To finde the chiefeſt ſéede to ſowe, by which in better plight Himſelfe alſo may dayly wax. Canſt thou not truly tell, What Garner for to ſéeke for this, or in what ſecrete Cell? What fields to ouerlooke, whereas the knowledge doth remaine, Of Chriſt, And vertuous life, without which all things elſe are vaine? Giue care vnto the maiſter great, diſcending downe from hie, He willes vs for to ſearch, what doth in holy ſcriptures lie. The volumes fiue of Moyſes, and the Prophetes all beſide, In them to heare the tongue and voyce of him that all doth guide: And for to learne what thing is good, and méete for vertuous men, And eke what things are yll and nought, and to be ſhoonde of them. So that we neuer néede the ayde of deuils here to craue, Or heathens helpe, or for to call the ſprite from ſtinking graue. Tis ſure theſe Prophets neuer did their owne deuiſes teach, Nor mens decrées, but euermore the worde of God did preach. Hereby appeares howe much we ought their writings for to wey, What credite eke we ought to giue vnto their wordes alway, That God by them doth vtter here, who dare his name diſpiſe, Or yet his worde, by whome is rulde eche thing in earth or ſkies? Firſt therefore let vs here perſwade our ſelues aſſuredlie, Who thinke with God to liue and dwell, aboue the heauens hie: That God will haue vs to eſteeme, whatſoeuer the Prophetes olde, Inſpired with the holy ghoſt, in auncient time foretolde: As if himſelfe with ſacred voyce the wordes pronounced had, Long time agone by Aungels mouth, he ſpake to good and bad, And many things himſelfe declarde in that moſt happie tide, When as the worlde was not ſo yll, and he but fewe did guide. Before that Amrams ſonne was borne, while as the Hebrues all, Were ſore oppreſſed in the lande where Nilus floud doth fall. But when they were deliuered thence, then Moyſes ſtreight did write, His volumes fiue the Prophets eke put out their workes to light, That of the worde of God, the ſonnes might euermore remaine, And men no l nger looke to heare the voyce from ſtarry raigne. Nor can the eares of man abide the ſpeach of God to heare, As once the Hebrues made afrayde, good witneſſe well may beare. Therefore he mortall doctors vnto mortall men did ſende, As Moyſes, Aaron, and ſuch men as euer did attende About the ſeruice of the Lorde, and Moyſes now in graue, They read the people ſtill the lawe, and laboured them to ſaue, As Prophets, prieſtes, & Leuits eke, who preacht and alwayes taught, For to beware of wicked things, and to eſchue the naught. And to conceyue aſſured hope in Chriſt the promiſed ſéede, Whereby the hearts might healed be, which griefe had cauſde to bléede. This was the Prophets office than, and this their order iuſt, When Moyſes here had yéelded vp his carkaſſe vnto duſt. Whoſe wrytings through the gift of God doe hitherto remaine, The very doctrine of the holy ghoſt appearing plaine. We muſt not weigh them as the worke of mortall men that die, But take them as the bookes of God, ſent downe from heauens hie. In like ſort muſt the Goſpell here of good men honorde bée, For both with all the Prophets olde it iuſtly doth agrée, And with the dreadfull voyce of God, it hath confirmed béene, Nor any thing repugnant here, may any where be ſéene. Therefore the Church did iuſtly giue the chiefe authoritie, Vnto the holy bookes that in the Bible written lie: Commaunding that they neuer be abuſde by any wight, But to remaine for euermore in good and perfite plight. As knowing well hir huſbandes voyce, the ender here of ſtrife, And theſe the certaine inſtruments of euerlaſting life. Beſide we muſt eſtéeme them more than all the Sibylles heare, Or all the Oken groues that earſt to Ioue were counted deare, And thinke that vnto men theſe bookes ſufficient light doth giue, Whereby they well may know the will of God, and how to liue. So that we profite much herein, in knowing that we neede, Not ranſacke other volumes great of fayth or hope to réede. For miſerablie doth he toyle, and toſſe his troubled minde, That ſéekes his pleaſure where it doth not lie, or elſe is blinde. Whoſoeuer of pure and perfite golde, hath founde the fruitfull vaine, By which he may to Pelops welth, or Craeſus ſtate attaine, And paſſe the Arabians riches here, and Hermus ſandes that ſhines Will hardly hence be had away to digge in emptie mines, And vainely pecke in euery rocke, whereas no golde doth lie, Where trauaile great muſt be indurde, and nothing got therebie. To theſe therefore let huſbandmen their mindes and ſtudie giue, Here ſhall they finde what néedefull is to teach them how to liue. No néede is here to vexe the minde with turning many bookes, Nor for to gaze on barraine fielde, with vaine and ydle lookes. Here of the euerlaſting worde, the knowledge full doth lie, That ſonne of God, and Ieſus whome the worlde is ſaued bie: The knowing of whom alonely, brings vs to euerlaſting blyſſe And reconciles vs to the father, where we did amyſſe, And makes vs heyres of heauen bright, this is the treaſure which Lay hidden in the ground ſo déepe, and Iewell paſſing rich, For which all worldly ſubſtance great is well beſtowed here: Looke where thou liſt thou ſhalt not finde it any other where. Leaue ſearching of the Ceſterns, and the Fennes and filthie ſoyles, And ſtinking pondes, when as at home the fountaine freſhly boyles. Here draw of cleare & Criſtall ſtreames, here mayſt thou drink thy fill, If thirſt of euerlaſting life, and vertue mooue thy will: Giue all thy force and minde hereto, and all thy wittes applie. Moreouer this perſwaſion doth great profite herein bring, When in the ſcriptures plaine appeares, Gods will in euery thing. What honor we muſt giue to him, what worſhip him delightes, What maners and what wayes are méete to frame the life arightes. Leaſt ſuperſtition in our mindes, or wicked error ſpring, And leaſt we preach and blaſe abrode, ſome lewde and hurtfull thing. As if the things ſufficed not that God himſelfe hath tought, Or that we thinke by our deuice might better things be wrought. Who ſo beléeues that God hath hid no vertue here nor right, Contents himſelfe, and doth obey the worde with all his might, And faynes not any thing himſelfe, nor followes fancie vaine, Nor any gloſes blinde of men, nor dreames of ydle braine. As moſt men commonly doe vſe, this madneſſe vexeth ſore, And is a plague that all the worlde doth trouble euermore. Without the worde of God eche foole dare frame himſelfe away, Procuring eke companions to runne with him aſtray: Whom at the firſt he doth perſwade, and after doth conſtraine T'obay his folly as a God that ouer all doth raigne. Let not our huſbandman be ſtaynde with ſuch vntowarde minde, But know the waight of ſcriptures well, where he may eaſily finde What beſt is to be done or left, leaſt that he wander wide, Obaying more the voyce of man, than his that all doth guide. Thus boldned let him duely reade the ſcriptures euermore, From top to toe, and oft reherſe that he hath read before, And print it déepely in his minde, layde vp in ſafetie there, None otherwiſe than golde or pearles, or ſuch like precious gere. From whence he largely may diſburſe to men as cauſe requires, The maner how to pleaſe the Lorde, and leaue their fonde deſires. And if perhaps he vnoerſtand not all things perfitely, Or reade ſome things that doe declare a great ſimplicitie: Let him beware that tediouſneſſe, nor lothſomneſſe him take, And force him ſo the ſacred worde of God for to forſake. In prophane wryters many things at firſt doe not appeare, But hidden lie, and doe deceyue the readers looking neare. No maruell then if that the holy ghoſt declare not all In eaſie phraſe, but ſometime teach with ſenſes myſticall. Accept the plaine and eaſie wordes, and thoſe that from thée flie, With haſte purſue and drawe them from the darkneſſe where they lie: He bleſſed is that profiteth both with the hard and plaine, And is not feared with the tone, nor countes the other vaine, But markes the order and the guiſe of Gods moſt holy ſpright, And beares with that in euery caſe, and takes his meaning right. Firſt ſhall he knowe the cauſes true, and father of eche thing, From whoſe commaundment, and whoſe worde all kind of things doe ſpring. Created of no ſubſtance here, the ſtately framed ſkies, The breathing ayre, and weightie earth that in the middle lies. The monſtrous waues of raging ſeas that here and there doe flowe, And what in ſixe dayes worke was wrought for garniſhing or ſhowe. The wondrous ſort of creatures ſtraunge, in ayre, in ſeas, or landes, That haue bene made, committed to the powre of Adams handes. By this he alſo well ſhall learne, that in the worlde there is, But one all onely Lorde and king, whoſe powre almightie is, Who doth of perſons thrée conſiſt, coequall in degrée, In nature, Godhed, powre, and euerlaſting dignitée, Who doth regarde the déedes and actes, that here on earth are done, And ſuffers nothing in the worlde, at random here to runne: But holdes the helme of all himſelfe, and ſterne doth onely guide, Though diuers Miniſters he hath for euery thing beſide. He well ſhall alſo vnderſtande, the great affection deare, That God doth alwayes beare to man, who made his ſubiectes heare, Both birdes, and beaſtes, and ſkalie fiſhe that in the ſeas doe ſwim, And gaue him from the ſkies a minde that moſt reſembled him: Nor left him when he wickedly vpon the •• ende did waight, But threatning Sathan and his traine, to mercie tooke him ſtraight. Moreouer he ſhall learne from whence the ſpring of death and ſinne, And wretched ignorance of truth, did in the worlde beginne: And what great force of ours remaynes to deale in vertuous déedes: And whence the ſafe aſſured hope of righteouſneſſe procéedes, And whence remiſſion of our ſinnes. Beſides he plaine ſhall ſée, Examples ſtore of Gods great wrath, for ſuch as wicked bée: And eke againe the mercy great of God omnipotent, Towards them that vertuous are, and ſuch as earneſtly repent. There plainely alſo ſhall he ſée, what things the law doth tell, How it condemneth euery man, and driueth downe to hell: That ſinne deſerueth dreadfull death, and eke the certaine way, To pleaſe the euerlaſting Lorde, and him for to obay. Moreouer that there are good ſprites, and aungels faire aboue, Sent out from God for mans defence, and for their great behoue, As vnto them the wicked ſprites are deadly enimies. There ſhall he learne, that ſoule of man with bodie neuer dies, Nor that the bodie euermore ſhall kepe the ſtinking graue, But ſound and ſafe at th'ende of the worlde, their olde eſtate ſhall haue, And come to euerlaſting life, where of the Iudge ſeuere, The fearefull ſentence ſhall they ſée, and righteous iudgement here. There ſhall the wicked ſort receyue theyr iuſt deſerued hire, Caſt downe into the ſmokie pitte of dreadfull flaming fire. The good exalted to the ioyes of heauen ſhining bright, Shall ſée the face of God, and liue in paſſing great delight. And more he well ſhall vnderſtande, that will of God aboue, What honor here he beſt eſtéemes, and what he moſt doth loue, What orders he accepteth here, what dutie eke we owe Vnto the Magiſtrate, the whole eſtate of mariage ſhall he knowe. But of this worthie treaſure great, why call I all to minde? As if I would the ſurges tell of ſeas in raging winde: Or number all the gliſtring ſtarres that in the ſkies appeare, And caſt abrode their golden beames when as the night is cleare: Or tell howe many thouſand leaues in wooddie groues doe lie, While as in Autumne Saturne throwes his froſtie flakes from hie: Or count the number of the eares that through the worlde are ſéene, While as approching Harueſt néere, the corne forſakes his gréene. There ſhall he finde whatſoeuer doth to huſbandmen belong, Wherewith to ouerthrow the foe, and to inſtruct the yong: Therefore let him at firſt the bookes of Moyſes well applie, And all the other Prophetes elſe in order héedilie, And from the fountaynes draw the worde, and fetch it from the ſpring, That perfitely he know the minde of God in euery thing, But chiefly in the ſcriptures written by the holy ghoſt, Theſe two, the law, and Goſpell, let him alwayes thinke on moſt. Diſcerning well betwixt them both, what doth to eche belong, The propertie of euery one, their force and vertue ſtrong. Leaſt that he hap to deale therein as moſt men doe this day, To make them both agrée in one, that differ farre away. The lawe deſtroyes, condemnes, & worketh wrath and vengeance due, And ſhowth vs what we ought to doe, and what we muſt eſchue, Augmenteth ſinne, and driues men downe into the pit of hell, That doe not heare in euery poynt obſerue and kéepe it well. On the other ſide the Goſpell doth bring euerlaſting life, And doth appeaſe the wrath of God for ſinne, and ceaſeth ſtrife, And thorow Chriſt forgiueth all that hath bene done amiſſe, And drawth vs from the depth of hell, and placeth vs in bliſſe. In giuing ioyes that neuer endes: ne ſhewes how we ſhould liue, So much as it the déedes of Chriſt to vs doth wholy giue, And maketh righteous euery one, and doth our ſinnes deface, Reſtoring vnto ſauing health, all ſuch as ſéekes his grace. Lo here thou ſéeſt a diffrence great, that will no vnitée, No more than fowle deformed death, with life will here agrée. Therefore herein our huſbandman muſt ſeuer them aright, Not mingling them togither thus, as iuſt in egall plight, Not making Moyſes here of Chriſt, or olde Licurgus ſowre, Nor yet aſcribing that to Chriſt, that longs to Moyſes powre. Let eche of them their office kéepe, their time, and eke their place, Sometime t'is méete the ſtonie hearts with deadly lawe to chaſe: And to declare the dreadfull plagues, that no excuſe remaine, To wretched men that all their life in wickedneſſe doe traine. A time againe when méete it is of nothing elſe to ſpeake, But graciouſneſſe, and to relieue and comfort vp the weake, With ſwéeteneſſe great of Ieſus milde, both necke and hands vnbound, From dolefull chaynes of miſerie, that weyes them to the ground. What can be worſe than for to kill ſuch as deſerue to liue, And vnto ſuch as death deſerue, eternall life to giue? Which thing doth alwayes come to paſſe when all things are not well Diſcerned as they ought to be, and as I earſt did tell. And though the face of Moyſes, and our Sauiours countnance bright, Muſt both be bare and open ſhowde, and furniſht out with light, Yet moſt of all we ought the name of Chriſt to magnifie, And ſéeke t'aduaunce aboue the reſt, his prayſe and dignitie. For he of euery other thing is finall ende and ſumme, And all things both in heauen and earth, by meanes of him are donne, And euery thing committed here vnto his holy hande, Wherein both health and righteouſneſſe, and death, and life doth ſtande, With fauour, grace, and puniſhment, and whatſoeuer doth lie, Created heare vpon the earth, or in the heauens hie. He is the ſoueraigne king and guide of choſen people pure, The happie prieſt, chiefe head and Lorde, and Sanctuarie ſure: The ſtedfaſt ſtone to cleaue vnto, and ſtrongeſt towre of might, The glorious Bridegrome, garniſhed moſt bewtifull in ſight, That with his owne moſt precious bloud, did waſhe and purifie His ſpouſe from euery ſpot and ſtaine that might offend the eie. The onely ſhepheard, bread, and light, and chiefeſt maiſter here: In fine, the large and welthie horne, where all things doth appere. Him from the firſt beginning, God did promiſe for to giue, To Adam and his children all, that after him ſhould liue, A gift that well ſhould pacifie, his iuſt conceyued yre, And eke redéeme the damned ſoules, from neuer ceaſſing fyre: Thus taught the holy ghoſt abrode, and Moyſes did the ſame, And all the Prophets after him did blaſe abrode his fame. The Apoſtles bande did preach and teach him all the world throughout, With trauaile and with labour great. And eke the Lawyer ſtout, That was ſometime his enimie, confeſſed openlie, That nothing here he ſought to knowe, ſaue Ieſus that did die Vpon the croſſe for mans offence, who at that preſent time, Was made our wiſedome, righteouſneſſe, and purger of our crime. And not by will or force of man, but by th'almighties law. Why ſeekſt thou here to knowe the cauſe? the reſt not worth a ſtraw, (Reſpecting this) thou mayſt account but all as darkneſſe blinde, And fonde ymaginations, and fancies of the minde, The perfite way that leades to hell, which here with labor great. The fooliſh worlde doth blaſe abrode, while as it doth intreat, Of lawes, religion, offices, yea though they taken bée, From Gods moſt holy worde, or more from worldly fantaſée. They all are vaine and of no force, except we hereto ioyne The knowledge pure of Ieſus Chriſt, and maieſtie deuine. The Iewes although the Bible ſtill they gaze and looke vpon, And honor great do giue vnto the Prophets euery one, Whoſe foming lips with boaſting of the law the people féedes, And glorie in ſuch Cartlodes here of good and vertuous déedes, Yet blinde they ſtill remaine, ſhut out from euerlaſting light, In darkeneſſe groping all about, doe runne to hell aright. What profites bookes or Moyſes nowe, or yet the Prophets all, When as thou doſt not vnderſtand the chiefe and generall? Both many & worthie words likewiſe, from Turkiſh mouth procéedes, Of God, his worſhip, prayers, and good workes, and almoſe déedes: And in the ſoberneſſe of life, they farre doe vs excell, They faſt, and kéepe their bodyes euer pure, and cleane, and well, And oft a pilgrimage they runne, with paynes and great expence, From Saint to Saint to viſite ſhrines, with wondrous reuerence. But all not worth a ſtrawe. For if that God be angrie ſtill, And neyther heare their prayers, nor to their vowes he hearken will. For if he all extréemely hate, and can away with none, That put not all their confidence in Ieſus Chriſt alone, As holy ſcriptures teſtifie, and teach in euery place: What profites all this trauaile vaine, or labor voyde of grace? Like vanitie a great while nowe hath vext the chriſtian ſort, With ignorance of Chriſt, whoſe name they onely could report. The merits of good workes and prayers, mens cares did alwayes fill, Of vaine and fooliſh cerimonies, their Pulpets thundred ſtill. And in the meane time as the Turkes, with name of Chriſt they play, Not teaching all our confidence and truſt on him to lay. And thus no good foundation of their doyngs doth remaine: But as the daughters of Danaus, they labourde all in vaine, And tooke their trauaile to no ende, with weake and wearie hande, But tilde vpon the barraine earth, and ſowde vpon the ſande. Not that they lacke the worde of God, which likewiſe had the Iewes: But that it lay neglected ſtill, and ſlept in deſke and Pewes, With duſt and Cobwebs all to rayde, in fowle and filthie plight: Whereon if any man by chaunce did happen for to light, And otherwiſe than cuſtome was, on leaues a fewe to looke, As vſde it was in Churches oft, to chaunt vpon the booke. He ſought not here for Chriſt, nor how to finde the way to ſkies, (For that was thought but childiſhneſſe, and plaine to all mens eies,) But ſought for other kinde of things, though worthie ſure of prayſe, As for to leade a vertuous life, and to direct his wayes. Some others vſde to mumble vp the matter ſpéedily, And with the ſwiftneſſe of their tongue did labor buſily. Regarding neyther ſenſe nor wordes, to whome it ſéemde a hell, For to beſtow a little time in reading ſcriptures well. Hereof ſprang vp the blindneſſe great, that dazde the people ſore, And well deſeruing did oppreſſe their huſbandmen the more. The knowledge eke of Chriſt lay hid, that bringeth righteouſneſſe, And cauſeth vs the bleſſed reigne of heauen to poſſeſſe, Thus warnde by Chriſtes example, and the daunger that may fall, Our huſband man muſt follow Ieſus Chriſt before them all: That for the people and himſelfe, by this he may prouide, Leaſt that he ſtumble at a ſtraw, and mountaynes ouerſtride, And wonder at the village ſmall, and ſtately towne deſpiſe, And at the entrance miſſe the houſe of God before his eies: Which doth declare a buſſard blinde, or one that wants his ſight, Or elſe ſome dronken Plowman mad, that knowes no way aright. This rule obſerude, and drinking at the pureſt fountaine cleare, And taking counſaile firſt of God, and alwayes giuing eare Vnto the voyce of Chriſt our Lorde, reſeruing it in minde, No voyce nor any Paraphraſe, nor gloſe of any kinde. That olde or newe hath written béene, muſt be diſpiſde of thée, That eyther is the Bridegroomes friend, or elſe is thought to bée Both for the Bridegroomes ſake, and for the right of all the reaſt, That iuſtly here are called in vnto the Bridegroomes feaſt. Yet not without a iudgement great, or ſtraight examining, Reade thou the workes of any man, or his interpreting: For oftentymes it comes to paſſe, that euen the guide of hell, Takes on himſelfe the furniture of Aungels ſéeming well. And in the middeſt of righteous men, the craftie knaue doth ſtande, And as a Saint his matters there he taketh than in hande. Whatſoeuer wryter followeth ſtill the text of ſcriptures plaine, With Paule and Peter ioyning iuſt, and all the Apoſtles traine, And teacheth that our health procéedes from onely Chriſt alone, And for to liue as he commaundes, and truſt to others none, Him reade, and earneſtly withall lay vp his wordes in minde, As one that onely teacheth, as the holy ghoſt aſſignde, And ſéekes with all his force and might, to extoll and magnifie, The honor of the Bridegroome here and ſoueraigne Maieſtie. But ſome there are that at the Threſholde of the doore are blinde, Who leauing all the Prophets, and the teſtament behinde, Set out the fonde decrées of men, and fancies lewde and vaine, Such as the man that neuer heard of Chriſt, nor of his raigne, With eaſie trauaile might inuent, as once did Xenophon, Iſocrates, and Cicero, and others many one. Who ſurely better things doe teach, and ſounder much are tride, Than diuers whom we earſt haue knowne with baptiſme purifide. Theſe alſo reade: for vnderneath the dunghill oft doth lie The precious ſtone, and many tymes from ſandes the Golde we trie. Scarce can there any booke be founde, ſo lewde vnlearnde or naught, But bringeth ſome commotitie, as Plinie truely taught. For though there be no learning great, for to be had therein, And though the phraſe and matter all, be ſcarcely worth a pin. Though many wicked things they teach, yet good to know the ſame, For to auoyde the yll, and of the eſt to make a game. More laugh to heare the Cuccow lewde, to rattle in the throte, Than for to heare the Nightingale with ſwéete and pleaſant note. But if theſe fooliſhe bookes doe hap, a lothſomeneſſe to breede, And to offende the ſtomacke much, as oft they doe in deede, Than after reading once or twiſe, no more aboute them ſtande, But giue them to the Spiders, Mothes, or to the Grocers hande, Whatſoeuer is good eſtéeme it well, and kéepe it for thy néede, And what is yll diſpatch it quite, and take thereof good héede. But if a controuerſie riſe amongſt the learned men, And ſuch as teach the people heare with graue and ſkilfull pen. If that the matter come to fight, by battaile to be tride, And that the ſkirmiſhe waxeth hote, with bookes on euery ſide. Let him a Newter kéepe himſelfe, neglecting Solons lore, And meddle not with any part, nor iudgement giue before He well doe vnderſtand the caſe, and wayde it perfitelie, Regarding no mans perſon, ſtile, nor earthly dignitie, Nor giftes of happie fortune here that haue bene delt to men, Nor great or little companie, of ſuch as follow them. Let neyther priuate loue nor hate perſwade him any way, Nor force him any kinde of thing, on eyther part to ſay. Nor kinne nor Countrie mooue his minde, to beare his hande awrie, And cauſe the ballance for to ſwarue, and fall vnequallie. But frée from all affections, let him marke aboue the reſt, Which of them néereſt comes to Chriſt, and followes truth the beſt, And kéepes the perfite rule of fayth, and iuſtly doth agrée, With euery thing that in th'apoſtles volumes written bée. (For new things no man here may fame) and rightly vnderſtande The worde of God, to ſuch let him aſſent to giue his hande. And beare this alwayes in his minde, that ſcriptures onely muſt Be they, whome godly men are bound vndoubtedly to truſt. All other wrytings of ſuch force and value ought to bée, But onely where with ſcripture they are found for to agrée. Nor muſt we here regarde nor wey, what man the Author bée, Of any learning newe, nor yet howe great the companée. If that he bring not with him ſtill the perfite Bridegroomes ſounde, And heauenly worde of God, vnto the which are onely bounde The heartes of mortall men, and which we ſafely may applie, And vanquiſhe both the gates and raigne of helliſhe ſoyle therebie. What thing hath more diſperſt it ſelfe through all the worlde ſo wide? What ſect hath got ſo many friendes and followers beſide? What is more conſtantly affirmde? with ſworde and fire defended? And thought to come from God, as from the loftie ſkies diſcended? Then that ſo groſſe and fooliſh law of Mahomet the blinde, Whoſe doltiſh dreames among themſelues contrary oft we finde? What ſhall he doe, if number great of people mooue his minde? Or generall conſent of all the worlde his fanſie binde? Or ſtately crownes of Emperours, or Diademes of Kings, With madneſſe ſhall he runne the way that to deſtruction beings, And doubtfull hanging iuſt betwixt the earth and heauen tho, To hell with crowde and number great of people ſhall he go. Go ſearch the ſcriptures teacheth hee that from the heauens came, Appoynted by the fathers voyce, the gouernor of man. He biddes not here the doting fruite of mans deuiſe to way, Nor what the loftie Prince commaundes, nor multitude doth ſay. For error ſprings with mortall men by ſpeciall propertie, And blindneſſe from the mothers wombe, doth all accompanie. From which doth neyther Chaynes redéeme, nor townes, nor princely ſeat, Nor wooll that twiſe hath earſt béene dide in purple poyſon great. Theſe are the chiefe deſires of Pan, and Mydas fonde delight, And eke the heddie frantike rage of Princes great of might, Not onely with the Gentiles lewde, who lacke the light deuine, But with the learnde and fleſhly ſéede that comes of Abrahams line. That now thou néedſte not to condemne of Ocean ſeas ſo déepe, The fartheſt partes that in Cimmerian miſtes and darkneſſe ſléepe. For all the earth whereas the Sunne doth caſt his countnance cleare, Oppreſt with dreadfull darkneſſe great, and blindneſſe doth appeare. In matters touching fayth therefore, and ioyes of heauen than, Let him not truſt the iudgement here of any kinde of man. But know that men will alwayes lie, with mindes diſpoſed yll, Except the holy ghoſt, and worde of God doe guide them ſtill. Which whether it be done or not, let ſcriptures here decide, Conſidering well of euery part, as Argus throughly eide. Except he doth diſpiſe the wordes that Chriſt did once declare, Who doth commaund attentiuely, falſe Prophets to beware. The like hath Paule commaunded oft, and earneſtly doth will, So doth the ſonne of Zebedey by good and perfite ſkill. But for the iudgement now in bookes, and their examining, Our Plowman muſt giue héede to this, as to a ſpeciall thing, That to no doctor here he binde himſelfe continuallie, Although the ſame be learnde, and had in eſtimation hie, And of the people honorde much, and worſhipt for his ſkill, Leaſt by this meanes he be enforſt with good to ſwallow ill, And maintaine lies in ſtéede of troth, yea for his maiſters ſake, To wreſt and wrie, and ſmall account of ſcriptures for to make. But let him kepe his iudgement, and reſerue his libertée, To alowe the things that with the holy ſprite agréeing bée. And to reiect the lewde and falſe, with malice neuer mooude, But onely with the loue of truth, which as before I prooude, Muſt onely here reſpected bée, no kinde of man beſide, Nor loftie hats, that earſt hath beene with purple colour dide, Nor multitudes in number great, nor preaſe of people rife, Nor miracles that haue bene ioynde with holineſſe of life. For ſince the Apoſtles worthie time, hath not bene knowne to liue, A man to whome in euery thing we credite ſafe may giue. For through affections f the minde, the generall companie, That both in Gréeke or Latine write, doe often runne awrie, And from the perfite path decline, and doth the ſcriptures wrong, Inforcing them to other ſenſe than doth to them belong, While as they tooke not héede ynough, or elſe too earneſt were, In things they went about for to perſwade or maintaine here. Oft times they ſuperſticious things doe teach and fanſies vaine, That neither with the Goſpell doe agrée, nor chriſtian raigne. Let theſe be ſpottes and marks that in thy body fayre appere, Yet thinke we them not worthie prayſe, nor to be made of here. As on the other ſide, for theſe we may not damne the reſt, That ſoundly they haue vttred here, and Chriſtianly expreſt, A fooliſh loue and all to blinde, is it when we allowe, The manifeſt deformities, and them for good auowe, And in a princely hall commend the dung before our face. Let euery thing retaine his name, his praiſe, and eke his place: And let not things contrarie quite, haue both one worſhipping, Nor yet that matters baſe and vile, be ſealde with precious ring. Wherein they ſhall conſtrayned be, to treſpaſſe now and than, That in this ſort addict themſelues to any priuate man. But this is not the greateſt harme that happeneth thereby, In ſuch as to one Author binde themſelues continaully, There is another greater thing and worſer aye by much: They care for no man here beſide, nor make account of ſuch, As painefully doe write or teach, eſpecially if hée In any poynt doe ſwarue, and from their maiſter diſagrée, Whom onely here they make their God, as one that cannot lie, Nor be deceyude in any poynt, nor euer treade awrie. He onely lookes not by the glaſſe, nor ſhadowes here that lyes, But all things openly diſcernes, with more than Lynceus eyes. Who if he any thing commend, their prayſes than excell, And looke what he doth here miſlike, they damne it downe to hell, And at an ynche they follow him, and iumpe with him they go, And euermore as he decrées, there mindes are altred tho. Of theſe men canſt thou looke for good, or faythfull huſbandmen? Imaginſt thou that euer truth can be eſtéemde of them? Or that they can vprightly teach: he that from •• ftie raigne Of heauen came, did not forbid his followers here in vaine. No man on earth their maiſter, or their father for to call, For why he knewe in euery place were ſwarmes of doctors all, Puft vp with pride, by reaſon of the learning that they had, Who chiefly ſought for to aduaunce their owne deuices mad, And cléerely doe deface the truth: and here in euery thing, To conquer all mens heartes, and them vnto ſubiection bring. Sith cleauing to one maiſter ſtill, doth make men ſooneſt fall, We neyther muſt our parents here, nor friendes eſtéeme at all. But onely Ieſus as the Doctor chiefe we muſt obay, As one that onely teacheth here the truth and perfite way. This was the auncient fathers rule, for this the writers newe, Haue ſtriuen long, and plaine diſcloſde a lewde and lothſome crewe Of errors blinde, wherein great learned men in time did ſtray, Whereat I more doe muſe why men ſhould at this preſent day Allow this rule, and vſe it boldely towarde euery man, When as the workes of writers newe, and of the olde they ſcan. Yet as if they in heauen ſhould continually abide, Of no man here they will be iudgde, nor haue their matters tride, But would be thought in euery thing to touch the perfite pinne, Whoſe doings here to bring in doubt, or to reſiſt is ſinne, And taken for a deadly crime that néedeth ſacrifice, Whatſoeuer they teach muſt be deuourde with ſhut and cloſed eies. If that thou doubt, and that thy ſtomacke loth at diuers things, Then hatred and defiance ſtraight, and hurly burly ſprings, And daungers great doth thée awayte, and priſon hard at hand, And death with cruell torments neare, vnto thy head doth ſtand, Thou happie art and eke thy birth hath fortune fauourde right, If that thou mayſte thy countrie leaue in poore and ſimple plight. And is not this a fooliſhe rage, and madneſſe groſſe and blinde? Yet numbers great of fooles that doe accept this ſame they finde, And binde themſelues to all their toyes, and farther with them go, Eſtéeming all their dooings here, as God had wilde it ſo. Nor any thing herein they doubt, and worſe than Todes they hate All thoſe that ſéeme to doubt thereof, or ſpeake againſt their ſtate. Euen as a loftie Pine, they labour ſuch to throwe to ground, And worſer than their maiſters farre, in all things are they found. Therefore addict thy ſelfe to none, but gather ſtill the beſt, And things that well agréeing be, with worde of God expreſt: The other to the Doctor leaue, or to his fooliſh bande, Nor ſuffer him in ſted of Golde, to giue thée durtie ſande. But though the almightie Lorde hath here deliuered vnto men His holy worde, with wryters ſtore, and worthie huſbandmen, Whereby the truth may well be knowne, and Chriſt that doth redéeme, And all men ought to learne and reade, but chiefly ſuch as méene To take the holy plough in hande, and mindes in order bring: Yet ſhalt thou not diſcerne the truth, nor Chriſt the ſoueraigne king, Except the holy ghoſt from hie inſtruct thy féeble minde, And teach thée here the per ite path, and certaine way to finde. Beholde in euery place, what ſtore of ſchooles are to be ſéene, What numbers great of Doctors here, whoſe learning men eſtéeme: What companie of bookes, and eke what care to learne and teach, Yet emptie ſtandes the Pulpet ſtill, and fewe of Chriſt do preach, And fewe regarde to heare of him, nothing is pure or cléene, Nor of the holy ghoſt may any ſteps or path be ſéene: The earthly things are had in price, and worldly wiſedome vaine, But no man ſéekes the doctrine that belonges to chriſtian raigne. From whence procéedes ſuch miſchiefe great of God, the furie fell It is wherewith he plagues contempt, and worlde that doth rebell, And doth denie his heauenly deawes to euery ſtudie ſtill, And onely leaues the worlde the ſhell and letter that doth kill. Himſelfe the kirnell cloſe doth kepe, and takes the pith away, And lewde diſpiſers doth diſpiſe, and ſuffers them to ſtray In worldly trifles fonde and vaine, wherewith they féede their flocke, Why ſhould he open heauen gates to ſuch as doe not knocke? Why ſhould he giue his holy ſprite, his Chriſt and giftes deuine To them that neuer aſke, but with a frowning looke repine? Thus men ſtill truſting to their wits, while as they ſéeke to finde The way to heauen with fonde decrees, and actes of diuers kinde, In ſundrie follies drowne themſelues, and labour all in vaine, And hedlong hurle themſelues into the flouds of helliſh raigne. But thou applie thy force and minde, and baniſhe ſlouthfull eaſe, Spread out the ſayles of diligence, and trie the learned ſeas. Remember yet the ayde of God, and helpe of heauenly light, And pray to God continually, to giue the heart his ſpright, And to reueale the certaine truth, thy minde for to inſpire With Chriſt the ſauing health, who ought to be thy chiefe deſire, Thy onely glory, and thy talke, and in thy minde to lie, In ſetting forth whoſe honour, thou thy learnings muſt applie. Theſe things if that with earneſt minde, of God thou doſt require, No doubt but he will helpe thée ſtraight, and graunt thée thy deſire, And fill thy open mouth with foode, and precious treaſures great: Thus hath he promiſed, and likes it well when we entreat. Doſt thou not ſée howe Salomon did greatly him delight, In aſking neyther goodes nor life, but wit and iudgement right, Howe much aboue all other men he thereby did receaue? Go pray therefore, and knocke a pace, deſire and neuer leaue. Thou neuer canſt thy ſelfe deſire more earneſtly to haue, Than he is readie for to giue to ſuch as thus doe craue, The bleſſed giftes of heauenly ſprite. Thence ſhall he open wide, The ſecret Celles of ſacred bookes, and wiſedome great beſide, Wherein the ſwéeteſt ſight of all may Chriſt be plainely ſeene, That of the choſen euermore, the onely hope hath béene, And many myſteries beſide of ſtraunge and wondrous kinde, Kept ſtill in ſecret from the worlde, that euermore is blinde, Which no diſpiſer lewde may knowe. His worde eke will he teach Abundantly, and giue a ſprite that earneſtly ſhall preach. Who if he giue thée not theſe things, and thou to aſke diſdaine, In learning onely ſhalt thou not beſtow thy time in vaine, But what thou ſpeakſte ſhall fooliſh be, vnſauory, and vnſweete, Diſordred eke in euery poynt, not hauing hed nor féete. Nor Doctor ſhalt thou counted be, but for a trifler vaine, A duns, a fooliſh babler, and moſt worthie of diſdaine, Whoſe preſence, voice, and fooliſh wordes, no ſhéepe of Chriſt will hea That knowes the voyce of Ieſus Chriſt, & Gods cōmaundments clear. What profites it forſaking God, to be accounted great, And with the damned ſtinking Goates to haue the hyeſt ſeat. Like as the Iewiſhe Rabbines haue, among the caſtawayes, And as the teachers of the Turkes, and many in theſe dayes, That bounce and beate the Pulpet ſtill, with lothſome noyce and crie, Méete onely for to raile, and in the reſt not worth a flie? A great thing is it in the houſe of God to drudge and ſwéepe, And ſeruaunt in the earth to be vnto the choſen ſhéepe. For ſuch a worthie rowme therefore, looke well thou worthie bée, Requiring God continually to graunt this force to thée, To giue thée grace and ſtrength thereto, and while thou here doſt liue, Eſchue no trauaile great, nor toyle, thy minde to labor giue. According to thy calling, let thy houſe well furniſht bée, Not gliſtring all with ſumptuous plate, nor coſtly Imagerée, Nor hangde about with Arras rich, nor pleaſant Tapeſtrie. Let all Th'aſſirian furnitures, and Phrygian bewtie lie, Nor ſeale thy houſe with Iuory white, nor Marble grauen fine, Ne let thy walles with painted Tables of Apelles ſhine, Nor with Parrhaſius coſtly workes, nor Euphranors beſide, Theſe things are méete for Princes great, and men addict to pride. Who (fooliſh) much regarde ſuch oyes, with loftie ſwelling minde, And little wiſedome got thereby, not méete for ſuch a kinde Of men as ſearch for heauenly things, and ſcriptures doe applie: And of poore Chriſt do preach the worde, and doctrine faythfullie. Dreſſe vp thy houſe in comely ſort, but not with great expence, Cleane kept, and ſwept, perfumed well, with pleaſant franconſence, With berries ſweete of Iunyper, or in the Sommer time, With Lauender, or Violets, and Roſes ſwéete and fine, Or pleaſant Lillies white. Swéete ſmelles the wit doth chiefly feede, As ſtinking ayre doth dull the minde, and great diſeaſes bréede. Let large and faire thy ſtudie be, and lightſome euery where, Farre placde from any filthie ſmell, no ſinke nor dunghill nere, No lothſome priuie there aboutes, no marſhe nor lakes at hande, Nor filthie vapours that ariſe from ſtinking pooles that ſtande. Here let thy chiefeſt goodes appeare, and bookes in number great, Of ſundrie ſort, among the which, the beſt and higheſt ſeat The Bible chalengeth of right, which many yeares agone, Was written by the holy ſprite, and in the tongues eche one, Wherein it hath bene written here. Of which the chiefeſt grace The Hebrue hath, and next to it the Chaldean tongue hath place, Let not the Gréeke tranſlation want, but ſtand among the reſt, Which ſeuentie ſundrie men did write, at Nilian kings requeſt, And which the auncient fathers vſde, that Chriſt of olde did preach, And with their vertuous wrytings graue, the Chriſtian fayth did teach. Then let the worthie Doctors all, and famous chriſtian crue, That long time ſince haue written bookes, be placde in order due. And ne t vnto the Bible, firſt let Auſtine haue his place, Who hath among the writers all, in Latine chiefeſt grace, Whoſe pregnant wit found out the truth, and syft th all things well, Whoſe iudg ment in detecting fr •• de, did others farre excell. And next to him his auncient friend, let Ierome haue his ſeat, Well knowne vnto the world, for ſkill in tongues, and wiſedome great, Who perfite was in euery acte, and learned ſcience tho, And was not farre behinde in 〈◊〉 to worthie Cicero. Let Ambroſe alſo there be ſe , with learned phraſe and ſwéete, Whoſe fatherly hea •• in tructing well, doth teach vs what is méete. Nor let Hillarius abſent bée, nor Athanaſius great, Who alwayes doth with ſtedfaſt tongue of pure religion treate: Nor both the Gregories that in the Grecian tongue excell, Whoſe gliſtring beames vnto the world hath erſt bene knowne ful wel. Let Cyprian eke the Martyr here, an handſome place poſſeſſe, And vertuous Baſyll, and Chryſoſtome full of holineſſe, Whoſe wordes doe like a fountaine flowe, and eke whoſe worthie wit For eloquence excelles, amid whoſe lappes doth Pitho ſit. Let Irenaeus haue his place, a famous wryter olde, Let Origen be placed there, and eke Cyrillus bolde, And ſundrie others mo, that doe in Gréeke and Latine write The names of whome it were to long and tedious to reſite. Take alſo thoſe that liued next, of leſſe antiquitée, Although for fayth nor vertue they may not compared bée With thoſe ſo famous fathers olde, and though they rudely write, Not hauing eloquence alike, nor cunning to endite. And to fill vp the number, let in worthie places ſtande, Such men as in this age of ours haue ſet their helping hande, Whereof thou not a fewe ſhalt finde, that to theſe Doctor good Full neare haue gone, and through the holy ghoſt haue vnderſtood Such things as fewe before haue knowne, who not inferior bée, In knowledge tongues and eloquence, and in diuinitée, Vnto thoſe men that wrote of olde, for God hath at this time Brought forth ſuch gliſtring beames of light, & cauſde thē forth to ſhine, And wondrous giftes hath delt abrode as no man can denie, That wiſedome hath, for which we are bounde to yéelde continually Great thankes and prayſes to his name, and well to vſe them here, To our behoofe, and profite great, and not for to diſpiſe Them as the cuſtome is of olde, in ſhamefull ſort and guiſe, Wherewith the things that in our daies are found and brought to light, Though neuer ſo good, we do contemne with lothſome appetite. On th'other ſide, the faſhions olde, and ſuch as farre be et, With willing armes we doe receyue, and moſt by them we ſet. This ſpitefull cuſtome caſt away, and let vs here embrace Gods bleſſing ſent from hie, and workes of men ſo full of grace, Nor mooued be if any thing therein amiſſe doe ſéeme, Or fancie ſuch as ought of vs to be reiected cléene. What wryter (ſcriptures here except) could euer yet be found, That hath not erde in any poynt from doctrine pure and ſound? We all in many things offende, and ſundrie things deceaue, When darkely placde the perfite ſ uſe the minde doth not conceaue. Among theſe writers here deſerues the chiefe and higheſt ſeat, Eraſmus, he that learned was in euery ſcience great, The Iewell of our time, and glorie great of Germanie, By whome we ſafely may contende and haue the victorie, With all the Italians, Spaniards, French, and ſuch as Engliſh bée. In theſe moſt learned workes, thou ſhalt be ſure for to attaine, To knowe whatſoeuer Chriſtians good haue thought, or heathen vaine. Next vnto him let ſundrie other good men haue their place, Shut no man out that taketh paynes to fill the worlde with grace What Countrie man ſoeuer he be, or in what time he liue, Yea what ſoeuer name the worlde to him doth vſe to giue. So ſhalt thou well be furniſhed, of counſaile learnde and good, That may declare what néedefull is for to be vnderſtood, Of Chriſt, of fayth, and hope, whereby thou well mayſt anſwere giue In euery doubt, as one that ſtill about the Lorde doth liue. Let not the whip of Ierome feare, nor force thée to refraine, (For in the worlde he vttered hath his dreames and fancies vaine,) From reading of the heathens workes, and of Philoſophie. Sometime for recreation ſake, thy minde a while applie, In Ariſtotles bookes to ſearch the ſenſe and phraſe obſcure, And whatſoeuer Plato here hath left in writing pure, Or Plutarch, Euchide, Xenophon, or Ptolomae the graue, As touching Mathematicals, or maners written haue. Let here the Lawyers preſent be, and alſo them withall The Popes decrées, reſcriptes, and ſuch as Decretals they call. A méete and worthie place is due to Poets here of right, As vnto vertuous mindes, and men inſpirde with holy ſpright. Let Galen, and Hippocrates be placed neare to thée, And other famous Doctors that in phiſicke ſkilfull bée Let Tullie that excelles in Latine tongue haue here his ſeat, The father ſw ete of eloquence, and guide of dutie great. Let Plinie, and Demoſthenes, and valiant Caeſar hie, Iſocrates, and Seneca, be placed worthylie. Ioyne here withall in companie the ſtorie writers olde, Such as haue written liues of men, and actes of Princes tolde Who able is eche writers name, in verſe for to reſight? Who in rehearſall of ſo great a number would delight? But ſuch as holde the ſacred Plowe, muſt not be ignorant Of any Author, but with them be alwayes conuerſant. Learne of the honiemaking Bées, about the Medowes flie, And ſucke the pleaſant iuice that doth in euery flowre lie. Of euery thing are arguments, and reaſons to be brought, Not onely out of bookes, and out of things that nature wrought: But euen from the handicraftes, of baſe and vile degrée, That huſbandmen may haue no time vnoccupide to bée. What ſhould I ſhew how great a gaine & pleaſure hence doth ſpring: For firſt of all aſſuredly it is a worthie thing To haue ſo many learned mates, and ſwéete companions here, And ſuch a learned Senate as aboute thée ſhall appere: To whome thou mayſt for counſell come, in any doubt of thine, That eyther longs to worldly ſtate, or vnto things deuine. In ſilence they remaine, if ought thou wouldſt not forth to flie, And truth is tolde thée plaine, and nothing vttred there by flattrie: Them ſhalt thou haue that can their part in weightie matters play, And ſuch againe as mirth can mooue, and ſorrow driue away. Thus ſhalt thou willing maiſters haue, that preſent ſtill ſhall bée, Who if thou wilt ſhall teach, if not, they will not trouble thée. Hereby thou ſhalt eſchue the preaſe of common people vaine, Nor pleaſure ſhalt thou take in rude aſſemblies to remaine. Thou ſhalt both ſpare thy purſſe and eares, and kéepe a quiet minde, Nor ſhalt ſuſtaine the vile reproch of ſuch as be vnkinde. Nor ſhalt thou be conſtraynde to looke vpon thy frowning ſo, Nor driuen for to heare the ribaulds tongue at large to go. No malice, wrath, nor wretched loue, ſhall purchaſe thée diſeaſe, No gates of noble men ſhut vp from thée ſhall thée diſpleaſe The doubtfull caſes of the lawe ſhall neuer mooue thy minde, Nor ſtrife that here in trifles vaine the brawling people finde. Thou ſhalt no whit regarde the ſteps of hie eſtate to clime, Nor ſhalt thou be with Dice vndone, nor caſt away with wine, Thou ſhalt as in a Paradice, enioy thy libertie, And walke amongſt the flowers ſwéete of white and purple die. The worlde thou ſhalt diſpiſe, and onely ioyes of heauen embrace, And follow here the doctrine true of Chriſt in bleſſed caſe. FINIS.