¶ The opening of the wordes of the Prophet Ioell, in his second and third Chapters, rehersed by Christ in Mathewe .xxiiij. Marke .xiij. Luke .xxj. and by Peter Actes .ij. concerning the Signes of the last day. Compiled by Robert Crowley in the yeare of our Lord. M.D.XLVI. And perused againe by the same. ANNO 1566.
¶ IMPRINTED AT LONDON by Henry Bynneman, for Iohn Charlewood, dwelling in Barbican, at the sygne of the halfe Eagle & the Key. ANNO. 1567.
Signes and Tokens of the last day.
REpent, repent,
I say repent
Your misse, & it amende:
Christes prophecie,
Doth shew plainely,
This world shall shortly ende.
Darke is the sunne,
Bloud is the moone,
From heauen are fallen the stars:
Earthquakes are séene,
Pestilence, famine,
Rumors tel nought but wars.
I do intend
Small tyme to spend,
To proue these rumours true:
For at eche porte,
Where is resorte,
We heare them dayly new.
But I know well,
That the Gospell,
Meaneth some other thing,
By this warre then,
That mortall men,
Should be giuen to fighting.
For since men were,
Of such number,
That wars might be maintained:
Ech Emperie,
Hath sought glorie,
And hath the rest disdained.
But the wars that,
Christ saith shall at,
The last day be so great:
Are not the same,
Wherof the fame,
Of histories doth treate.
I dare be bolde,
This warre is holde,
With that swerd yt Christ sent
Among vs, when
He said all men,
From other should dissent.
I came saith he,
Not to giue ye
Peace, but to send a sword,
Among you all,
Wherwith you shall,
Fall at vtter discord.
The parents shall,
Make the childe thrall,
And the childe them againe:
To them shall bée,
Great ioy to sée,
Eche other of them slayne.
No maner kinne,
Shall auaile in
That case, no man shall misse:
To haue them that,
He kepeth at,
His charge his enimies.
Thus doth he say,
That men shall slay,
Eche other cruelly:
For this great fight,
Passeth the might,
Of our great chiualry.
Our men of might,
When they do fight,
Can neuer hurt the soule:
But these men quell,
Them into hell,
That Satan may them coule.
These men are they,
That vse alway,
To iudge such men holiest:
As they do sée,
On the earth to bée,
Counted as the highest.
Yea they do thinke,
That the poore stinke,
Before the face of God:
Bicause they sée,
That pouertie,
Is counted the Lordes rod.
They do pretende,
For to dèfende,
The faith with might & maine:
Wherfore all they,
That will say nay,
With the sword must be slaine.
This is their trade,
They will perswade
Men that worldly wealthis,
The rewarde, that
Christ fayleth not,
To giue them that are his.
They say further,
Will Christ suffer,
His church to be trode downe?
No no, they shall,
Raigne ouer all,
Both in citie and towne.
The wicked bée
Faine for to flée,
From place to place eche day:
For feare of his,
Righteous iustice,
To this who dare say nay?
But thus say they,
We flée away,
From persecution:
And yet all we,
Know it to be,
Iust execution.
For they professe,
Christes faith no lesse,
That execute the thyng:
Than those men did,
That first preached,
The christian liuing.
How can they then,
Persecute men,
That professe Christ also:
Vnlesse they should,
Be found so bold,
To say both yea and no.
But there be some,
In christendome,
That are malefactours:
And these will say,
We runne away,
From the persecutours.
When they halfe wood,
Flée from the good
Shepherdes, that will not sée,
The tender lambes,
Kilde, and their dams,
That Christ bought on the trée.
All this they teach,
And to vs preach,
These things men must beleue:
Yea this may not,
Be sticked at,
To these things mē must cleue.
Alas the while,
How they begile,
The silly soules that can:
By this meanes know,
Little I trowe,
Of the faith christian.
For Christ saith that,
His secte shall not,
Shed bloud but shall suffer:
All tiranny,
And vilany,
And be no reuenger.
Wherfore I dare,
Say that the warre,
Wherof Christ prophecied:
When eche brother,
Should slay other,
Is euen now fulfilled.
For we may sée,
That now there bée,
Diuers opinions:
Diuers beleues,
Wherto men cleues,
In diuers regions.
And eche man will,
His brother kill,
Ghostly and then be glad:
As though he were,
Worthy to heare,
Great praise for works so bad.
One sort doth teach,
And to vs preache,
That works must make vs frée,
From mortall sinne,
That we are in,
If we will saued be.
For thus they say,
Michaell shall way,
Vs in his balaunce two:
Where shall be had,
Both good and bad,
Workes that we haue ydo.
If the better,
Be heauier,
Then shall we liue for aye:
But if our sinne,
The better winne,
Then are we like to paye.
They haue no eyes,
On gods mercies,
But on the equall waight:
For they say plaine,
They are certaine,
Gods iudgemēt shal be straight
For Christ hath sayd,
We wyll be payd,
According to our workes:
Wherfore eche slaue,
Shall buffets haue,
That in his seruice lurkes.
And when they fynde,
One to their minde,
That will to them applie:
Then they reioyce,
With heart and voyce,
And shew him curtesie.
The other syde,
Can not abide,
To heare of workes at all:
For Gods mercie,
Say they shall bie,
All them frée that are thrall.
Christ shed his bloud,
Vpon the Roode,
For that intent onely:
We must graunt then,
All kindes of men,
Must nedes be saued thereby.
All murderers,
Aduouterers,
Theues, robbers, and ill men:
Shall by his bloude,
Shed on the Roode
Of heauen be right certen.
Thus they say all,
And him they call,
A perfect christian:
That will apply
To their foly,
And a right honest man.
Thus on eche side,
Both shoote to wide,
Of the pricke, for the one
Saith, workes is all,
That saue the thrall,
The other wil haue none.
Of these eche man,
Doth what he can,
To kill his brothers soule:
Eche giueth his mynde,
Such for to fynde,
As will not him controle.
The middle sorte,
That doth exhorte,
All men to liue godly:
And to thinke that,
Their worke shall not,
Saue them but Gods mercy,
Are they that beare,
The burden here,
For both hate them to death:
Their whole intent,
Is to inuent,
Some way to stop their breath.
Thus eche brother,
Killeth other,
Some the flesh, some the spirite
So that I dare,
Call this the warre,
Wherof the Prophets write.
For since kings coulde,
As I haue tolde,
Haue men of warre to fight:
With wicked will,
They haue sought still,
To win much groūd by might.
ij.
AS for famine,
Such now is séene,
As erst hath not bene knowē:
Both poore and riche,
Perishe aliche,
No séede growes that is sowen
By this I meane,
Ghostly famine,
For lacke of ghostly foode:
The heauenly fielde,
Lye doth vntilde,
And brings forth nothing good.
If any sowe,
They will not bowe,
But stiffely scatter séedes:
Setting no hand,
To tyll the land,
So nought growth vp but wéedes.
Yet in churches,
Gods worde lurches,
In chaines or in a cage:
But no man may,
Theron hand lay,
That hath none heritage.
Iames writeth this,
With God there is,
To riches no respecte:
His worde would he,
Knowen for to be,
To all his true electe.
Further he saith,
Most riche in faith,
Are some of the base sort:
Whome to repell,
From the Gospell,
Gods worde will not supporte.
Know we may soone,
Who hath this done,
Satan no doubt it is:
That by this way,
He might decay,
Christes faith and stablish his.
For he knoweth wel,
If the Gospell,
Might raigne among the poore:
They would soone know,
Them to follow,
That enter by the doore.
He knoweth riche men,
Reade now and then,
For pleasure and repast:
But to redresse,
Their wickednesse,
Few of them do make hast.
For if they would,
No poore men should,
Among them starue for foode:
Into prison,
None should be done,
For det or worldly good.
But their riches,
Doth them possesse,
And hath them in a bande:
Witnesse I can,
That riche yong man,
Whom Christ bad sell his land,
With heauy hart,
Away he start,
As one that thought it deare,
Heauen to possesse,
For his richesse,
And liue a begger here.
How many now,
Would dissalow,
This yong mans sapience:
Aske them that bée,
Of high degrée,
And haue great store of pence
Some wil you tell,
That the Gospell,
Commaundeth no such thing,
That they should féede,
Such as haue néede,
And then go on begging.
Ful true it is,
Christ saith not this,
Giue all and beg thy selfe:
But thou therfore,
Maist not make store,
And whord this worldly pelfe.
But thou must spend,
As God doth send,
To féede thy familie:
In thine aray,
Go not too gay,
But after thy degrée.
Loke what is more,
Left in thy store,
Than wil suffise to this:
He that hath none,
Must liue theron,
It is not thine but his.
This to withholde,
If thou be bolde,
Or to spend it in waste:
Thinke not but hée,
That lent it thée,
Will call for it in haste.
For if that thou,
Haue scarce ynowe,
To maintaine thine estate:
Yet if thou sée,
The poore néedie,
Of that thou must abate.
If that the price,
Of vitailes rise,
So that they must be skant:
The stewardes dishe,
Must diminishe,
Before the housholde wante.
This worlde cal I,
Gods familie,
Wherin the riche men bée:
As stewardes stoute,
To rule the route,
And succour pouertie.
Whom they do ayde,
That is decayde,
I thinke no man can tell:
But if ye gesse,
Whom they oppresse,
The poore know that ful well.
The cause of this,
Is Auarice,
That raigneth in the cleargy:
Whose life should shyne,
Before mens eyne,
As Phoebus in the sky.
But diuelishe pride,
Hath bene their guide,
And brought them vp so hie,
That they know not,
Their owne estate,
But séeke this worldes glorie.
Tenthes of increase,
By right successe,
They claime & cal them theirs:
But Peter knew,
No such thing dew,
To him nor to his heyres.
But if we might,
Sée that their light,
Did shine lyke Peter & Paule,
Then would we not,
Debarre them that,
But rather giue them all.
Them to defame,
I were to blame,
And call them Phariseis:
Vnlesse I knew,
It to be true,
By their owne witnesses.
When they do preach,
And Gods worde teach,
Vse they not to say so?
Do as we say,
But turne away,
From that ye sée vs do.
The same counsell,
You know full well,
Christ gaue to his elect:
Willing that they,
Should turne away,
From the Phariseis secte.
Iudge who that will,
If I do ill,
To call them Phariseis:
That vse to preach,
And Gods worde teach,
Walking in fleshly waies.
By them Paule saith,
That preach the faith,
And liue fleshly themselues,
Gods worde is blamed,
And much defamed,
Among the infidels.
All preachers would,
Euer be bolde,
To say come after vs:
Euen as ye sée,
Vs for to bée,
Seruaunts of Christ Iesus.
For if they say,
This is the way,
Wherin Christes flock must walke:
Vnlesse they go,
Themselues also,
Few will beleue their talke.
This pondered,
Holy Dauid
Saith, sinners may not mell:
For such as bée,
Of infamie,
Dishonest Gods Gospell.
This séemeth plaine,
Men to restraine,
That none should enterprise:
In hand to hent,
Gods Testament,
To preach in any wise.
For on the ground,
None can be found,
Whome sinne hath not defilde:
You may me trust,
All are vniust,
Both man woman and childe.
Yet some there bée,
In whom we sée,
No maner wickednesse:
But to our sight,
Both day and night,
Their vertues do increase,
Of these we sée,
No great plentie,
The pitie is the more:
But when we will,
Gods worde fulfill,
We shall haue better store.
But whiles we are,
So ful of care,
For worldly vanities:
God will vs send,
Few to amend,
Our great enormities.
Yea vnlesse,
Our vice do ceasse,
And we for mercy call:
Shortly to preach,
And Gods worde teach,
We shal haue none at all.
For such men as,
Do little passe,
To pacify Gods ire:
God wil forsake,
And them betake,
To their owne hartes desire.
They shall promote,
Eche leude harlote,
And giue to him credence:
But all that come,
To preach wisedome,
Shall be put to silence.
Follie it were,
For them that feare,
Of Prelates to be shent:
For to applie,
This prophecie,
Vnto this time present.
But in such case,
No man may passe,
Fauour to lose or winne:
Without respect,
Of any sect,
Gods worde rebuketh sinne.
Ceasse not to cry,
Saith Esay,
Tell my people their owne:
Extol thy voyce,
With as much noyse,
As if trumpets were blowne.
Here speaketh hée,
Of no degrée,
Of lay men nor of clarkes:
But of them all,
In generall,
That do worke wicked warks.
Wherfore all ye,
That faithfull be,
And beare of Christ the name:
Do not disdaine,
Though I speake plaine,
Since sinne is worthy blame.
All such as bée,
Of the cleargie,
And liue as Christ hath taught:
My penne shal praise,
And them displease,
That willingly do naught.
Of whome no doubte,
A full great route,
Within this realme do dwell:
But them to know,
My penne I trow,
Shall teache you all full well.
First marke all such,
As with one church,
Hold not themselues content:
They are the chiefe,
Of missebeliefe
From Satan to vs sent.
An vnion,
Of two makes one,
But a pluralitie:
With a tot quot,
Full wel ye wot,
Bringeth them to high degrée.
If a riche cobbe,
Beget a lobbe,
The wisest of a thraue:
For him with golde,
He wil be bolde,
A fat parsuage to haue.
Then this cobbe will,
That parish pill,
Of corne cattell and straw:
Whiles the yong foole,
Is at the schoole,
To learne a point of the law.
When men hilde shéepe,
That could not créepe,
He will haue the tenth fell:
As due increase,
Of their riches,
Bicause they do them sell.
Also at Lent,
When wiues repent,
One peny must they pay:
For hearbes ye wot,
That thickes their pot,
And make their houses gay.
But when this Asse,
Hath song a masse,
Of God in Trinitie:
For to encrease,
Worldly riches,
Shall be all his studie.
Foure times a yere,
You shall him heare,
Full clarkely teach his flocke:
What sinne it is,
To tithe amisse,
And with Gods part to mocke.
At Easter whan,
Eche christian,
To Gods supper shall come:
No sinne shall let,
Him for to eate,
So that he pay the summe.
But all that bée,
In pouertie,
And haue nothing to pay:
He will refuse,
As cursed Iewes,
That neglect Easter day.
Thus taketh hée,
As ye may sée,
Gods parte of all degrées:
To scoure his throte,
And furre his cote,
But God for colde shall fréese.
Perchaunce his kinne,
Shall somewhat winne,
If that they please him well:
But for most part,
Their tender hart,
Pitieth some faire damosell.
Few men haue séene,
Grace to them giuen,
Their tithes well to bestow:
That haue bene bolde,
Into the folde,
To climbe by the window.
For their pretence.
Is to get pence,
To spend at their owne will:
They take no héede,
The flocke to féede,
But let them famishe still.
Wherfore all ye,
That fathers be,
Instruct your babes in youth:
That they may flie,
All Simonie,
And follow the Lordes truth.
Although children,
Do Gods law learne,
Euen from their mothers laps:
Let none be stalde,
Til they be calde,
For feare of afterclaps.
For if the childe,
Wanton and wilde,
Passe not vpon his shéepe:
For them that stray,
He must nedes pay,
That gaue them him to kéepe.
But tell me than,
Thou folishe man,
Who shal thy cause defende:
When thou shalt stand,
At the left hand,
With Satan for to wend.
Thy men of law,
Thou foolish daw,
Whom thou hast in a fée:
Dare shew no face,
Within that place,
To speake one word for thée.
For they haue more,
To answere for,
Than they can wel aweld:
Their conscience shall,
Accuse them all,
For that they haue misse meld.
They that for golde,
To thée haue solde,
Writings of presentation:
May looke to dwell,
With thée in hell,
Among the wicked nation.
Bishops also,
That bad thée go,
The rope in hand to take:
Are like to fall,
Depest of all,
Into the fiery lake.
For they are set,
Treason to let,
As watchmen on the wall:
Which when they spie,
The enimie,
Should on their fellowes call.
But if the watch,
Of treason smatch,
And helpe the wall to scale:
Into prison,
They must be done,
No man may be their bale.
No tirannie,
Can make them lie,
In paines worthy their faute:
That from the towne,
Set ladders downe,
To them that giue the saute.
Then may we gesse,
In what distresse:
Such leude bishops shall stand:
When Christ shal come,
At the last dome,
By fire to iudge the land,
For such as would,
Into the folde,
To fill their gréedie mawes:
Bishops haue stalde,
And made them calde,
True preachers of gods lawes.
But now they vse,
Them to excuse,
As they were yong Pilates:
Saying that they,
Must néedes obey,
The temporall magistrates.
Wherfore if they,
Present a boy,
A verlet or a loute:
Them to admit,
What néedeth it,
Bishops to stand in dowte.
The patrone shall
Answere for all,
Bishops shall beare no blame:
So they fulfill,
The patrones will
And subscribe to the same.
They must therfore,
Loke for no more,
Then the patrons owne seale,
Which from all charge,
Setteth then at large,
Patrons with God must deale.
So that they may,
Auoide alway,
The daunger of the law:
What forceth it,
Though they admit,
Such as they neuer saw.
A yong princockes,
Sir Iohn smelsmockes,
A piece of flesh alone:
To sing and daunce,
And make pastaunce,
With Tib, Cisly, and Ione.
A gamester wise,
In cardes and dyce,
And all games of the same:
A cockrel rancke,
Fit for the bancke,
A ruffian past all shame.
A swearer good,
By bones and blood,
And many othes moe,
Ready to fight
Both day and night,
Where he shall ride or go.
One that is wonte,
To hawke and hunte,
And kéepe a brace of houndes:
A steward stout,
To ride about,
To sée his maisters groundes.
An hurly burle,
A farting churle,
An whorder vp of grotes,
A cruell wretch,
That doth not retch,
To hang men by the throtes.
A lobbe a loute,
A malmesey snoute,
A drousie dronken face:
A belly swaine,
A féeble braine,
One voide of all Gods grace.
The bishop must,
The patron trust,
That gaue the presentation:
Although he sée,
The suiter bée,
Of diuelish conuersation.
For if they should,
Be found so bolde,
To checke my lordes chaplen:
Thinke you they might,
Fynde it so light,
To promote their kinsmen.
No no my frende,
Lordes wil not bende,
And priestes will not displease:
They thinke it best,
To liue in rest,
That riches may increase,
So Lordes may haue,
All that they craue,
For priests that do them serue:
Tithe lambe and wooll,
Great houses full,
But pouertie shall sterue.
To féede the shepe,
Or house to kepe,
Such priestes do not intend,
But when they looke,
Their counting booke,
Then for their rents they send.
The patrone will,
Be Farmer still,
If that he may ought winne:
Or else some knaue
Shall the gaines haue,
That is of the priestes kinne.
Some priest hath two,
Some thrée some moe,
Some sixe or seuen I trowe:
Beside odde endes,
Called Prebendes,
With Canonries ye knowe.
Fiue hundred pound,
And Curates found,
Some one receiueth clere:
That in housholde,
I dare be bolde,
Spendeth not ten pound a yere
Some other spende,
By the yeres ende,
A thousand pound and more:
But such I trowe,
Will not bestowe,
Ten pound vpon the pore.
They bid to feastes,
Such maner gestes,
As wil bid them againe:
They thinke great shame,
That blinde and lame,
Should to their court retaine.
Yet with their scraps,
Sometime perhaps,
They stuffe a beggers bagge:
Their dogge shal eate,
Much better meate,
Whiles ye his taile will wagge.
In garments gay,
They must aray,
Their seruantes rufflingly:
And they themselfe,
May weare no pelfe,
To make them vnpriestly.
Their horses shall,
Be good and tall,
To rid the way at néede:
For when thinges fall,
He must haue all,
That can make the best spéede.
To their estate,
Cupbordes of plate,
You know are necessarie:
For noble men,
Vse now and then,
With such prelates to tary.
They must haue wine,
And that full fine,
They must spare for no cost.
If they lacke ought,
That may be bought,
Their worship is nere lost.
Short tale to make,
They must nought lacke,
Fit for a noble man:
Rather they will,
Both polle and pill
And take all that they can.
But that they might,
Do this by right:
A law they haue procured:
That such may haue,
Whiles they do craue,
That are to Lordes assured.
Chaplaines I meane,
To King and Quene,
And other Lordes great:
For a small summe,
Doth not become,
One of so high estate.
This law hath made,
Some priestes glad,
To cap and knée full lowe:
And to promise,
Faithfull seruice,
To them they do not knowe.
Some past all shame,
Obtaine the name,
By their importune sute:
Of kinges chaplens,
And other mens,
Whose power is absolute.
These will all take,
And nought forsake,
With mo bagges to the mill:
Lay on their backe,
Till it do cracke,
And yet they will beg still.
These tonglesse dogges,
With heauy clogges,
Can nother bite nor barke:
Neither espie,
The enimie,
Their kennels are so darke.
When they lacke pence,
None residence,
Must helpe or all is loste:
For one halfe yere,
They make no chere,
Neither with sodde nor roste.
There be also,
Some other moe,
Whō we call seruing priestes:
These must néedes lurke,
And do no worke,
For filling of their fistes.
These for sixe pound,
You shall haue bound,
To take the charge of cure,
The person may,
Him sporte and play,
And liue all at pleasure.
But this stipend,
Wil not extend,
To spend all at their wil:
Both to go gay,
In their aray,
And fresh cuppes for to fil.
Some Marchandise,
They must deuise,
To mende their liuing with:
So that they may,
Their hostes pay,
For all that she filleth.
Hence came trentals,
And long beadrols,
With masse pēce & dirge grotes
For if they pray,
They must alway,
Haue pence to scoure their throtes.
I wil not tel,
How they do sel,
Christes bloud to bie thē drinke
For if I should,
Some if they could,
Would sel mine to I thinke.
But if they did,
All thinges counted,
Their gains wold be but smal:
For they shall pay,
At the last day,
Euen for the dregges and all.
But let this passe,
My purpose was,
With words plain to expresse:
That the cleargy,
Liueth fleshly,
And myndeth no godlinesse.
God may them send,
Grace to amend,
And to séeke his glory:
Setting aside,
All worldly pride,
As vayne and transitorie.
Then shall their light,
Shew forth so bright,
That all men shall be glad:
Them to follow,
As men that know,
The good way from the bad.
But whiles we sée,
Their wayes to bée,
So full of stumbling stockes:
We thinke the dawes,
Stumble at strawes,
And leape ouer great blockes.
Wherby no séede,
That is sowed.
In mans hart taketh roote:
For where Phoebus,
Hath no cleare course,
To till it is no boote.
Wherfore all ye,
That faithful be,
Pray that preachers may liue:
As Christ doth teach,
Else when they preach,
No man will them beleue.
But if their life,
Were without strife,
Though thei preached but seld:
I know right well,
They should compell,
The enimies to yelde.
Then should famine,
No more be séene,
That now raigneth ouer all:
Gods worde should féede,
All that stand in néede,
And lust for foode to call.
3
PEstilence also,
From vs should go,
We should be safe & sound:
There should no rot,
Light of our lot,
If such shepherdes were found.
But since that we,
Were found to be,
So worthy the Lordes ire:
We haue had few,
Whose workes do shew,
Them worthy the Lordes hire.
For we were ledde,
For to be fedde,
In morishe marishe ground:
Thinking there was,
Such maner grasse,
As would haue fed vs found.
But now we sée,
How farre we bée,
Diseased in this case:
By them that die,
Most wretchedlie,
Of all kindes of disease.
Thrée kindes of rotte,
Full wel I wotte,
As shepherdes haue me tolde:
Lighteth among,
The lustie yong
Shepe, as soone as the olde.
Fell rotte is one,
Wherof dye none,
But such as lacke drying:
After they bée,
Washed as we sée,
Before time of shearing.
But here I would,
That all men should,
Perceiue what washing is:
And what drying,
Is my meaning,
Wherof men haue such mis.
It is baptisme,
That washeth them,
That in Christ put their trust:
And their drying,
Is vp bringing,
After the ghostly lust.
None can deny,
But faithfully,
Their babes to washe men vse,
But to dry them,
As doth beseme,
Most parte of men refuse.
They go about,
To make them stout,
To get their fleshly foode:
Thinking no néede,
That they should féede,
The soule with doctrine good.
To feare and loue,
The Lord aboue,
Their children are not taught:
Neither to pray,
But sing and say,
All rimes filthy and naught.
At thrée yeres olde,
They shal be bolde,
To name their mothers shap:
Their father will,
Maintaine them stil,
And set them on his lap.
They shal not feare,
All othes to sweare,
By they haue liued seuē yeres:
The parentes shall,
Them princockes call,
And say they haue no peares.
O bribers wood,
Thinke ye it good,
To laugh & make great game,
When you shall sée,
Your babes to bée,
So wanton past all shame?
No whelpe so wilde,
Is, as some childe,
No yong kitling so nice:
No swine so rude,
And to conclude,
No stewes so full of vice.
Thou foolish man,
Say if thou can,
What reward thou shalt haue.
That doest employ,
Thée to destroy,
The séede that God thée gaue.
Eternall fire,
Shall be thine hire:
Vnlesse thou do repent:
And call for grace,
Whiles thou hast space,
Before thy dayes be spent.
Christ saith alas,
In full harde case,
Art thou whose example,
Causeth babes yong,
For to go wrong,
In wayes abhominable.
For thée it were,
Saith he, better
To be drowned in the sea,
Than that the least,
Childe of beheast,
Should learne to sinne at thée.
Wherfore all ye,
That faithful be,
Let not your vice infecte:
The tender yong,
That are among,
You as the Lordes elect.
But do emploie,
You busilie,
To teach them the Lordes wil:
That in their age,
They do not rage,
But liue thereafter stil.
Then the rewarde,
That is preparde,
For thē that Christ hath bought
Shal be to you,
As wages due,
Bicause you haue it sought,
Now of the first,
Rotte as I trust,
You haue intelligence:
Wherby you may,
Driue it away,
Through godly diligence.
The other twayne,
That do remayne,
If God wil be my guide:
I wil descry,
So plenteously,
That no man shal it hide.
The hunger bane,
Is alwayes tane,
As shepeheardes haue told me,
By to much weate,
After great heate,
Which maketh grasse plentie.
Wherof the shéepe,
That could scase créepe,
Before for lacke of foode:
Finding swéete meate,
Do often eate,
Much more thē doth them good.
By this excesse,
There doth encrease,
In them abundantly:
Bloud corrupted,
Vndigested,
Which causeth them to dye.
In like manere,
It doth appeare,
Amongest them that professe,
The Christian faith,
As good Paule saith,
And yet worke wickednes.
For though that they,
Desire alway,
To know Gods veritie:
Yet when they haue,
All that they craue,
They vse it carnally.
By Christ we bée,
At libertie,
Say they (and that is true)
For on the Roode,
He shedde his bloud,
Our fréedome to renue.
From death and sinne,
Which we were in,
This bloud hath made vs frée:
And from the yoke,
Which Moses flocke,
Toke for their libertie.
Yet are we not,
So frée by that,
From sinne that we may take:
Our fleshly lust,
And remaine iust,
Euen for Christ Iesus sake.
But looke what day,
We do obey,
The flesh in déede or thought,
Our fleshly will,
For to fulfill,
Christes bloud auaileth nought.
Christ shed his blood,
To do them good,
That forsake their owne will:
And not for those,
That wil suppose,
They may liue fleshly still.
For Christ did die,
To mortifie,
The flesh, death, hel and sinne:
In those that he,
Did know to be,
Frée men of Isaacs kinne.
For these he hath,
Ordeyned a path,
Wherin néedes walk they must
If they by fayth,
As Scripture saith,
Will be tride to be iust.
For without mis,
No faith there is,
Where workes do not ensue:
Which may declare,
Whose trées we are,
When iudgement shall be due.
Good workes therfore,
Will euermore,
Appeare in Gods elect
For by that signe,
Such as are mine
(Saith Christ) shall be detect.
But such as lurke,
And will not wurke,
Ought else but wickednesse,
Christ will forsake,
And them betake.
To the pitte bottomlesse.
There they shall lye,
And wishe to dye,
But death shall flée them fro:
They shall sustayne,
Eternall payne,
Bicause they liued so.
All ye therfore,
That heretofore,
Haue bene ledde in darkenesse:
Do not abuse,
These godly newes,
Through your carnal excesse.
Carnall excesse,
Is as I gesse,
To thinke Christ made vs frée:
For that we should,
Through him be bold,
To worke iniquitie.
But Christ our price,
The sacrifice,
For sinne, hauing no stayne:
Must nedes forsake,
All them that make,
Themselues captiue againe.
And those be they,
That to vs say,
Christ hath payd the raunsome,
And worthy price,
For all our vice,
To purchase vs fréedome.
His precious blood,
Shedde on the Roode,
Hath set vs all at large:
No maner wight,
Hath any might,
To lay ought to our charge.
By him we trust,
To be found iust,
When he shal iudge vs all:
Notwithstanding,
That our liuing,
Be not like Peter and Paule.
We do not doubt,
His blood without,
Our workes, to be able,
Vs to restore,
Our workes therfore,
Are found vnprofitable.
All this is true,
Yet are workes due,
And all that do neglect,
To do gods wil,
Are bond men still,
As none of Gods electe.
For none can be,
At libertie,
Through Christ that do not stil
Themselues emploie,
To mortifie
The flesh, to do Gods wil.
The fruite and trée,
Shall euer bée,
All one, this is no nay,
The roote and spring,
Is all one thing,
One good, both good alway,
The braunche also,
That cleaueth to
The vine, shal be fruitfull:
It cannot bée,
That a good trée,
Should be vnprofitable.
Euen so brothers,
All Christes members,
Bring forth works plētuously:
The godly secte,
Of Gods electe,
Can not liue idelly.
The holy ghost,
Is not at host,
With them that liue fleshly:
They must fulfill,
The fathers will,
That wil haue him tary.
Therfore if we,
Intende to be,
Temples of the Lordes spirite:
Our life must not,
Dissent from that,
Which holy Paule doth write.
Make your bodies,
A sacrifice
Saith he, sincere and pure:
Keping therin,
No maner sinne,
But séeke the Lordes pleasure.
When we do this,
We shall not mis,
To haue Gods spirite in vs:
Whose presence shall,
Helpe vs in all
Things, that are daungerous.
But if we will,
Be fleshly still,
Working our beastly lust:
Vndoubted than,
In him we can,
By no meanes put our trust.
For he will bée,
An enimie,
To all that wil worke vice:
And to them that,
Endeuour not,
From their olde sinne to rise.
Repent therfore,
And sinne no more,
But seke God and his will:
That ye may be,
At libertie,
From death, sinne, & the deuil.
Walke not in sinne,
Now you be in,
The light of Gods doctrine,
For if ye do,
Ye are like to
The most vncleanely swine.
Which vse to lye,
Most filthily,
In myer vp to the head:
Euen at high noone,
When that the sunne,
Most glorious beames doth spread.
But we risen,
From death and sinne,
By Christ our aduocate:
Must in liuing,
Séeke for the thing,
That will kéepe our estate.
That is Gods grace,
For to imbrace,
His worde and worke his will:
With all our might,
Both day and night,
To liue thereafter still.
We haue bene led,
Blindely and fed,
Scarsly long time, what than?
Should we therfore,
Liue euermore,
After the outward man?
No God forbid,
That Abrams séede,
Should so degenerate:
That it should smell,
Of Ismaell,
Whose stocke was reprobate.
Plenty of meate,
Now for to eate,
The good shepeherd hath sent:
His shéepe to féede,
Which stoode in néede,
No doubt was his intent.
And not to stroy,
Their health thereby,
Which thing it doth in déede:
When they halfe woode,
Abuse that foode,
The flesh therwith to féede.
Féede we therfore,
The fleshe no more,
With the foode of the soule:
For if it catche,
A further smatche,
At length it wil controle:
Then may we say,
Woe worth the day,
And houre of our first birthe:
For death shall bring,
Extreme mourning,
And take away our mirth.
O cruell lotte,
O pestilent rotte,
What plague can be like this?
Which taketh away,
Immortal ioy,
Banishing vs all blisse?
No remedie
For this finde I
But onely earnest prayer:
Which as I fynde,
Hath ofte enclinde
God to remit his ire.
Wherfore let vs,
Be studious,
In prayer, that it may please
The heauenly king,
Which knoweth all thing,
To cure this sore disease.
And then no doubt,
We shal without,
Delay come to the blisse:
That is preparde,
As a rewarde,
For them that séeke iustice.
The third kynde as
My promise was,
I must néedes now declare:
That is murraine,
As shepeherdes faine,
That worketh them much care.
But good herdmen,
Tell me that when,
Shepe take the murraine rote:
Then the shepherde,
For his rewarde,
Should be hāged by the throte.
For no shepe will,
Rotte on the hill,
So long as he is ledde,
Directly forth,
As the time doth,
Require for to be fedde.
But such as do,
Leade shepe into,
The valley to make them fatte:
Intend to sell,
The carcase well,
And gayne something by that.
But he that will,
Not his shéepe kill,
But haue them to endure:
To féede them sound,
In holesome ground,
He must euer be sure.
And suche one will,
Vp to the hill,
To féede his flocke eche day,
And killeth not,
Such as are fatte,
Lest his flocke should decay.
Wherfore we may,
This safely say,
They are butchers eche one,
That féede their shéepe,
In bottoms déepe,
And let the hill alone.
They tende them not,
But for the fatte,
They sende at slaughter day:
They take no care,
For slender ware,
Though wolfes fetch thē away.
Such can be bolde,
For ready golde,
To bye a flocke of shéepe:
And for to haue,
A slouthful knaue,
That wil take them to kéepe.
They do not passe,
What maner grasse,
He hath to féede them on,
So that the summe,
Do yerely come,
That they do pointe vpon.
Marke now brothers,
If no butchers,
May be found in this land:
Which busily,
Do Christes flocke bye,
Out of the shepeherdes hand.
What are they that,
Vse to lye at
The court, or some lordes place:
Where they sustaine,
Importune paine,
Dauncing on Gnatos trace?
These wil espye,
Where great flockes lye,
Where they set one to spie,
To bring tidinges,
Before all thinges,
When the shepeherde doth die.
Then they apply,
Their flattery,
By frendship bought with gold:
That for their paine,
They may obtaine,
To enter to the fold.
Yea long before,
Some get them store,
Of Vowsens to be sure:
That none shall let,
Them for to get,
In at their owne pleasure.
Then do they set,
Some leude verlet,
To try what may be made:
Yearely of that
Ware that is fat,
And all due charges payde.
The chiefe thing is,
The priestes wages,
And tenthes due to the king:
But such as bée,
In pouertie,
May be allowed nothing.
For if they should,
These butchers could
Not thriue vpon their craft:
For poore men will
Be begging still,
So long as ought is lafte.
But they wil spy
A remedy,
For that you may be sure:
Saying they ought
To giue them nought,
That do them no pleasure.
Thus yerely they
Do fetch away
The gaynes that doth arise:
By tenth increase
Of mens riches,
After the largest sise.
But for to féede,
Such as haue néede,
These fellows take no thought
But let them pike,
In euery dike
All wéedes filthy and nought.
Thus they wander,
As shéepe that were
Forsaken of their guide:
Feading themselfe,
With all such pelfe,
As growes in the field wide.
But out alas,
In how hard case
Are they whose shepherdes are:
Of Gods preachers,
Become butchers,
Prouder than Lucifer.
The murren rot
Is on their lot,
Their health is sore decayde:
No remedie,
They must néedes die,
Vnlesse God be their ayde.
Shepeherdes are dead,
And we are led,
Be them that flée vs fro:
When as they should,
Do what they could,
To saue vs from our foe.
Yea rather they,
Make vs obey,
Our aduersaries minde,
Bidding vs trust,
To be found iust,
By meanes that they do finde.
Thus they lapped in,
A shepeherdes skin,
Do say they wil vs féede:
With ghostly foode,
Holesome and good,
At all times when we néede.
But when these do,
Minister to
Vs, as they do but selde:
Their medicines are,
Such mixed ware,
As few sicke men haue felde.
There are also,
Some other mo,
Whose names I dare not tell:
Which beare them bolde,
For redy gold,
The flocke of Christ to sell.
These with Iudas
Which damned was,
For selling Christ our hed:
Are like certaine
In extreme paine
To make their endlesse bedde.
Vnlesse by grace,
They do imbrace
Gods worde and aske mercy:
For their sinne is
No lesse than his
Since they sell Christes body.
In like daunger
Is the byer
And all that condescende:
But chiefly they
That should alway
Such great abuse amende.
All kinges therfore,
Ought much the more
To loke vpon their charge:
For all the land
Lieth on their hand
Be it neuer so large.
Let vs therfore
Pray euermore
That good K. Henries thought:
May be enclinde
Such meanes to finde
That Christes flocke be not bought.
But that we may
Haue them alway
To leade vs in and out:
That for our health
To lose the wealth,
Of this worlde will not doubt.
Such doubtlesse will,
Walke to the hill,
Of gods word with their flock:
Going before,
Them euermore,
Like men of Dauids stock.
Then shall their shepe
After them skippe
In life worthy their name:
So that there shall,
Be nought at all,
In them worthy of blame.
For they shall heare,
His voyce so cleare,
And sée him go so bright:
Before their face,
That they may trace,
His foote both day and night.
No darkenesse can,
Trouble them than,
No cloud shal duske their sight:
They shall not stray,
Out of the way,
Bicause their guide is bright.
O ioyfull thing,
God graunt our king,
Grace to sée vs his flocke,
Ledde on this sorte,
For our comforte,
By guides of Dauids stocke.
Then shall we sing,
Prayse to our king,
And glory to the Lorde:
Of Israell,
With whose Gospell,
Our life should then accorde.
4
IT followeth next,
Now in the Text,
Great earthquakes shalbe séene:
Which shal cast downe,
Both tower and towne,
And great castels I wéene.
Now let vs sée,
Whether there bée,
In our dayes any towne:
Castell or tower,
That through the power,
Of the earthquake is downe.
But that we might.
Therin iudge right,
The causes must be knowen:
That do so make,
The earth to quake,
That townes are ouerthrowen.
In this we must,
Their iudgement trust,
That haue writ of the same:
Sith their writing,
Teacheth nothing,
That is worthy of blame.
All such men do,
Consent vnto,
This thing putting no doubt:
But vapours make,
The earth to shake,
When they séeke a way out.
In caues hollow,
These vapours grow,
To such a multitude,
That at the last,
They will out brast,
No strength can them include.
Then cast they downe,
Both tower and towne,
That is nigh to the place:
No maner wight,
May welde their might,
Nor looke for any grace.
What say we than,
If that in man,
These vapours may be found:
Should we looke for,
Then any more,
The shaking of the ground?
No that were vayne,
For then certayne,
We might looke for a beast:
Like to a Beare,
Which should appeare,
After saint Iohns beheast.
[...]
Nor drinke the pleasant drinke:
How should Vintners,
And Victulers
Liue then, as you do thinke?
God hath all sent,
For to be spent,
And not to whord in store:
Why should not than,
A Gentleman,
Eate it paying therfore?
Should a vile slaue,
So fine foode haue,
As one of noble blood:
Or should a king,
Lacke any thing,
That is dainty and good?
But let a king,
Marke well this thing,
And teach his nobles all:
That fine féeding,
Helpeth nothing,
To life celestiall.
And they that thinke,
Their meate and drinke,
Should passe others so farre:
Ought well to know,
That high and low,
Are made of one matter.
King Salomon,
Saith all is one,
A poore man and a king:
Are first gotten, And then borne,
And differ yet nothing.
Then are they fed,
With milke and bread,
Both like, both waile and wéepe,
A like both crie, A like both lie,
A like both wake and sléepe.
The mighty King,
Is found nothing,
Better than the begger:
For by his birth, He is but erth,
The best is no better.
All loose their strength,
By age at the length,
All die and fall to dust,
This thing to bée, True ye may sée,
In their graues if you lust.
The noble blood,
Doth them no good,
Whē they rot in ye ground:
Nor when they come,
To the last dome,
Where beggers shalbe crounde.
Some king shall stand,
At the left hand,
And say, when did we sée:
The Lord lacke ought,
And we haue nought
Holpe thy necessitie?
But once for all,
To them Christ shall
Say, get you hence from me,
Downe into hel,
Where you must dwell,
For your iniquitie.
When ye denied,
To them that cried,
Asking helpe in my name:
Euen than was I, In misery,
The scripture sayth the same.
So harde iudgement,
Toward them is bent,
That haue all thing plentie:
How harde they fare, Taking no care
That are in poueriie.
For riche men are,
They that should care,
For the poore impotent:
Both goodes and landes,
Are in their handes,
Which serue for that intent.
God gaue great power,
And like honour,
To some bicause they should:
Defend the rest,
Which are opprest,
With thirst, hunger, and cold.
Should they then make,
Reuell and take,
Their pleasure day and night:
Letting the poore,
Man lacke succour,
Whō they should ayde by right.
No they shall pay,
At the last day,
All that they haue mispent:
At cardes and dice,
And other vice,
And excesse of rayment.
Broches and ringes,
With other thinges,
Which are had in great price:
Helpeth nothing,
To good liuing,
But rather vnto vice.
For honestie,
Will alwayes bée,
Content with necessaries:
Then must excesse,
Be wickednesse,
For they are contraries.
Do you riche men,
I must say then,
Set foolishe toyes aside:
In all your wayes,
During your dayes,
Let conscience be your guide.
Let not the poore,
Stand at your doore,
And starue for lacke of foode:
Whiles that ye eate,
All maner meate,
Much more than doth you good.
Kepe not in store,
Much clothing more,
Thā that you must nedes ware:
Bestow your golde,
In tyme of colde,
Vpon such as be bare,
Let your workes show,
That you do know
Gods worde, set fantasie
Aparte, thinking
Your selues nothing,
Without the Lordes mercy.
Persuade your selfe,
This worldly pelfe,
To be but vanitie:
And that ye ought,
To withholde nought,
From néedefull pouertie.
You are not set,
Riches to get,
But to order the same:
Ministering,
Eche néedefull thyng,
To halte, blinde, and to lame.
And for to sée,
That such men bée,
Punished that haue their helth:
And wil not woorke,
But lye and lurke,
Hurting the common welth.
Do not retayne,
Such as disdayne,
To worke hauing no landes:
Nor qualities,
Worthy of fées,
Let such worke wc their handes.
By idlenesse,
Vice doth increase,
And vertues are opprest:
Wherfore if ye,
Loue honestie,
Let these thinges be redrest.
Delight not in,
Other mens sinne,
Nor your owne wickednesse:
But fast and pray,
Striuing alway,
To follow righteousnesse.
Then the earthquake,
Of vice shall take,
No roote within your breast:
You shall be stalde,
As ye are calde,
The children of beheast.
And you that bée,
Of lowe degrée,
Submit you to the powers:
Do you all thing,
By Christes teaching,
And his kingdome is yours.
If you rebell,
You do not well,
But yet you may boldly,
Professe Gods worde,
Fearing no sworde,
But suffer manfully.
Repine not at,
Your base estate,
But rather giue glory:
To God which hath,
Made you a path
Way, vnto victory.
The riche men are,
With worldly care,
Opprest that scarcely they:
Can at the last,
Their loade downe cast,
And enter to your way.
You haue therfore,
Much cause the more,
To render thankes to God:
For that you may,
Passe the straight way,
Easily with your light lode.
Grudge not at such,
As haue so much,
Treasure as they call it:
But rather pray,
To God that they,
May haue grace to vse it.
And then shall ye,
Through charitie,
Vpon Christ builde so sure:
That no earthquake,
May your life shake,
Nor worke you displeasure.
5.
NOw let vs sée,
If the starres bée,
Fallē as Christ prophecied:
Whose wondrous fall,
The Diuines all,
Haue thus interpreted.
They say that by
Astronomie,
Men may wel vnderstand:
That the least starre,
That doth appeare,
Is more than all the land.
Then they say that,
If these so great,
And so many should fall:
Before domes day,
There were no way,
We should be quelled all.
But Christes Gospell,
Doth plainely tell,
That euen at his comming,
Men shall apply,
Them busily,
To prouide for liuing.
Some shall plante vines,
And some presse wines,
And some shall marry wiues:
And some shall bie,
To gaine therby,
But few shall mende their liues.
The sonne of man,
Shall appeare than,
And take them sodainly:
When they thinke lest,
To be opprest,
And liue most iocundly.
Here we are taught,
That they do naught,
And take the prophecie:
Of Christ amis,
That say there is,
In it no mysterie.
For if it were,
So taken there,
As the letter doth sound:
Two things plainly,
Cleane contrary,
In Gods worde should be found
Which cannot be,
And therfore we,
Must néedes graunt that there lieth:
More mysterie,
In prophecie,
Than the worde signifieth.
Let vs therfore,
Tarie no more,
Vpon the wordes onely:
But let our minde,
Be giuen to finde,
What thing is meant therby.
The starres are bright,
Both day and night,
But when the Sunne is cleare,
He doth so shine,
Before our eyne,
That no starre can appeare.
But so soone as,
The Sunne doth passe,
The circle of our sight:
We may espie,
Them easily,
Through darknes of the night.
Yet are they not,
Themselues of that,
Nature to appeare bright,
Vnlesse Phoebus,
Splendiferous
Do endue them with light.
Naturall light,
Of day and night,
Since the world was begunne:
Is proued by
Astronomie,
To procéede of the Sunne.
The starres therfore,
Haue euermore,
Their light from Phoebus face:
Although they bée,
As we do sée,
Of a farre distant place.
So the clearenesse,
Of godlinesse,
By Gods worde is giuen:
In like maner,
To them that are,
Of Christ called Christen.
Christ by the sters,
Meant good liuers,
whose works shew very bright:
But their brightnesse,
Is but darkenesse,
When Gods worde is in sight.
For Gods mercy,
Sheweth so clearely,
And mans vnworthinesse:
Is found so darke,
That no good warke,
May shew any brightnesse.
But the poore man,
That neuer can,
By day walke in the light:
Of Gods worde must,
Follow the iust,
whose works shine in the night.
The night I call,
This world through all,
Wherin the christian secte:
Are as starres bright,
To giue them light,
Whom darkenes doth infecte.
The starres should moue,
In heauen aboue,
The shadow of the ground:
That Phebus bright,
Might giue them light,
To shine in the world rounde.
But now they bée,
The more pitie,
Eche one fallen fro thence:
None do intend,
For to ascend
Againe, and leaue their pence.
But much rather,
They go lower,
To get golde and treasure,
Their onely minde,
Is for to finde,
Meanes to liue at pleasure.
And they that would,
That other should,
Take them for true leaders:
Began to fall,
Downe first of all,
And are now deceiuers.
I meane prelates,
And magistrates,
Which say we must incline:
Vs to agrée,
With such as bée,
Men of great discipline.
They say we must,
Their iudgement trust,
And obey theyr decrées,
Although we sée,
Them for to bée,
Against Gods verities.
They say how can,
The priuate man,
Discerne Gods veritie,
If great prelates,
And magistrates,
Should teache the falsitie?
For God they say,
Giueth alway,
The truth to the rulers:
They cannot erre,
In peace nor warre,
That are Gods partakers.
Would God they were,
But many feare,
These will be tried at the last:
To be nothing,
But rauening
Wolues séeking for repast.
Such proude Prelates,
And magistrates,
I meane to séeke glory:
To them and theirs,
As though their heyres,
Should haue the earth onely.
Bishop Cayphas,
Pilate Annas,
Herode with many mo:
Were magistrates,
And great Prelates,
And yet wroght Christ much wo.
Their feare to léese,
Their dignities,
Was cause that they did this,
And that they slue,
All preachers true,
That were Christes witnesses.
For they thought that,
Their power could not,
Be able to resist:
And kéepe vnder,
The great number,
That wold haue folowed Christ.
For they knew well,
That his Gospell,
Agréed not with their pride:
And thought if that,
They slew him not,
Their sect would be destroide.
These were they that,
Did stumble at,
The stone in Israell,
Euen their leaders,
And chiefe rulers,
As Scripture doth vs tell.
Maisters of schooles,
Were proued fooles,
And wise men lacked wit:
But simple soules,
That gathered tolles,
And caught fishes had it.
Euen so this day,
Full well ye may,
Affirme that Christ hideth:
His mysteries,
From proude mens eyes,
Which to babes he sheweth.
Princes Prelates,
All magistrates,
Could not destroy the pride:
Of Rome till that,
Poore men sparde not,
To speake till some were fride.
But at the last,
It was downe cast,
Within this realme ye know:
Both farre and nere,
And Abbayes were,
Supprest and brought ful low.
Bicause therin,
Was such foule sinne
Vsed, and such popery:
That some men thought,
The ground could not,
Sustaine their buggery.
Well when this was,
Thus come to passe,
Men praised God in our king:
Which by prudence,
And diligence,
Had brought to passe this thing.
They looked for,
To haue no more,
Poperie maintainde here:
Bicause within,
This realme was séene,
No Monke, Chanon, nor Frier.
But apes will be,
You may trust me,
Apes still though their clothing:
Were purple fine,
Nought can incline
Them to leaue their mowing.
These pied goates,
Chaunged their coates,
Yet are their mindes the same:
That they were once,
Though for the nonce,
They do such popery blame.
Some weare miters,
And some gray furres,
And some haue cure of soules,
But their liuing,
Differeth nothing,
From thē that dranke in boules.
In Colledges,
You cannot misse,
To sée of them great store:
Where they apply,
Their buggery,
Euen as they did before.
Wherfore all ye,
That learned be,
And may do ought therin:
Do what ye may,
Both night and day,
To plucke vp this fowle sinne.
Else doubt ye not,
But the Lord that
Burned the fiue cities:
And hath cast downe,
In field and towne,
The great and huge abbaies:
For that foule sinne,
Will soone beginne,
To make your place defart:
No fresh singing,
Nor gaye piping,
Shal make ought for your part.
Such as cannot,
Refraine from that,
Ought for to marry wiues:
No vowe can binde,
Such as can finde,
No meane to mende their liues.
In eche degrée,
Matrimonie,
And the bedde vndefiled:
Are holy thinges,
Though the shauelings,
Count maried men defiled.
God graunt we may,
Once sée the day,
Wherin we may be frée:
To leade our liues,
With honest wiues,
And preach Gods veritie.
For now he that,
Conteyneth not,
And hath the gift to preache:
Must either hide,
That gifte or bide,
Still burning like a wretche.
So that no man,
Vnlesse he can,
Obtayne of God the gifte
Of chastitie,
May looke to bée,
A preacher by this drifte.
And doubtles this,
Were not amis,
If God would not require:
Increase of that,
Which man hath at,
His hande receiued here.
But sith God will,
Punishe them still,
That doth not occupie:
Their talentes than,
No Iustice can,
Deny them libertie.
Let no popery,
Therfore deny,
Christes membres to profet:
Eche other still,
After Gods will,
With such giftes as they get.
Let all men bée,
At libertie,
To preach if that they can,
An honest wife,
Hurteth not the life,
Of any godly man.
Most noble king,
Helpe in this thing,
And giue them libertie:
To preach that can,
Though a woman,
Do helpe their chastitie.
Then shall you sée,
The veritie,
Of gods word taught ful plainly
By them that will,
Defend no ill,
To haue liuing therby.
But some will say,
That by this way,
Great schisme shall arise:
For the cleargie
And the laitie,
Will preach two contraries.
Graunt that they do,
Yet of them two,
One shall not misse to speake:
The truth alway,
Where now men say,
To lye priestes do not reake.
Then should we bée,
In worsse degrée
Say they, than we be now:
For no man could,
Tell which he should,
Of these two sortes follow.
Yes yes be bolde,
It were soone tolde,
Which of them preacheth true:
For true preachers,
Are obseruers,
Of Gods cōmaundement new.
A newe precept,
For to be kept,
Saith Christ I giue you now:
That eche brother,
Loue an other,
Euen as I haue loued you.
For by that signe,
Such as are mine,
Shall be knowen to all men:
Faith cannot bée,
Where charitie,
Is not the graunde capteine.
That sorte that loue,
As is aboue,
Eche other faithfully:
And will betake,
Them to the stake,
Ere they wil ought deny,
Of that they preach,
That sorte doth teach,
The truth you may be sure:
These will not say,
Both yea and nay,
For any mans pleasure.
Yet once againe,
Such as disdaine,
That maried mē should preach:
Will say that then,
All maried men,
Will count eche priest a wretch.
What forceth that,
If priestes be not
Of Christ, but of Satan:
We may ordaine,
Mo priestes againe,
After the inwarde man.
None should regard,
Such as outwarde,
Signes do make priests onely:
But them whose life,
Is without strife,
And their doctrine godly.
Vnfainedly,
Such are worthy,
To haue double honour,
For that they are,
So full of care,
To helpe their christen brother.
Such men looke not,
For the crowne that,
Shall be taken them fro,
But to encrese,
Godly riches,
Is all thing that they do.
But now alas,
In how hard case,
Standeth this world this day:
When all Rulers,
And all Preachers,
Forsake this godly way.
Who would not bée,
Of high degrée
This day, what Prince or King:
Desireth not,
More rule than that,
Was his fathers leauing.
Their onely care,
Is for to fare,
Delicately eche day:
And to maintaine,
This they are faine,
To get all that they may.
Might is their law,
Wherby they draw,
All goodes into their handes:
And he that will,
Say they do ill,
Shal loose both goodes & landes.
They thinke not, that
They were made at
The first, them to defend,
That haue no might,
To kéepe their right,
Nor their wrongs to amend.
For that intent,
Sufficient
Landes, was giuen to eche one:
Bicause he should,
Do what he could,
To saue the weale commone.
But now they be,
The more pitie,
So fonde of vaine honour:
That on the ground,
Scarce can be found,
Inough for their owne store.
Both more and lesse,
Study to passe,
Their forefathers degrée:
Thinking it shame,
To beare the name,
Of fruitfull pouertie.
Lordes must inclose,
Pastures, medowes,
To holde in their owne handes:
And that the rent,
May kepe his stent,
They must improue their lands.
The merchant man,
Doth what he can,
To be Lord ouer townes:
Eche king is bent,
With full intent,
To subdue many crownes.
Alas the while,
They do begile,
Themselues now euery one:
Thinking that they,
Shall raigne alway,
Vpon the ground alone.
The day shall come,
When their kingdome,
Shall not be worth a straw:
Nor they themselfe,
With all their pelfe,
The value of an haw.
Their golde and all,
To duste will fall,
This is to manifest,
And they also,
Must after go,
Perchance when they thinke lest
What folly then,
Is in these men,
To leaue Gods veritie,
And to apply,
So busily,
This worldly vanitie?
But I you pray,
Harke what I say,
And giue me eare a while:
I shall you shew,
At wordes few,
What doth these men begile.
They thinke God will,
Compte nothing ill,
That mans law iustifieth:
And that by might,
To claime their right,
With Gods worde agréeth.
To make the best,
Of most and lest,
Is lawfull for eche man,
They say, and to
Be bound to do,
For no man though they can.
To gather pelfe,
Eche for himselfe,
So they do no man wrong:
Is not they say,
Out of the way,
Such errours are vp sprong.
Feare to displease,
Desire of ease,
And cloked flattery:
As I suppose,
Hath made men glose,
Gods worde so subtilly.
But if the kings,
With their lordings,
Would lead the daunce aright:
We may be bold,
The poore men would,
Follow with all their might.
You kings therefore,
Couet no more,
One to subdue the rest:
But let your strife,
Be in good life,
Which of you can rule best.
Desire not,
To rule them that,
Refuse your imperie
But do intend,
Them to defend,
That serue you willingly.
And you lordings,
Leaue your diggings,
And your raising of rentes,
Take not such fines,
To by you wines,
For God knoweth your intents
And you merchantes,
Be not seruantes,
To coueteous desire:
But sell and bie,
All thinges truely
And God shall giue you hier.
Briefly all ye,
That of Christ be,
Cognomed Christians,
Study to moue,
In heauen aboue,
This earthly inhabitance,
Let men know that,
You regarde not,
This worldly vanitie:
But let them sée,
That your workes bée,
Fruites of Gods veritie.
Then shall your méede,
As farre excéede,
When Christ shall iudge vs all:
Theirs that by sinne,
Would heauen winne,
As the frée doth the thrall.
6
NOw let vs sée,
If the Moone bée
Blud as christ prophecied
That we may trie,
What mysterie,
Vnder the wordes lieth.
I did you tell,
As I thinke well,
That since the world begunne:
Both day and night,
Haue all their light,
At the beames of the sunne.
This if you list,
Is tried soonest,
By marking the Moones light,
Which doth alway,
Growe and decay,
As we may iudge by sight.
The cause of this,
Vndoubted is,
The vnequall distaunce:
Of the Moone from,
The Sunne by whom,
She doth hir light auaunce.
Marke if ye list,
That side soonest,
Receiueth light alway:
That is next to
The Sunne and so,
The other doth decay.
Yea if you marke,
That side is darke,
That is fromwarde the sunne:
When that is bright,
Both day and night,
That Phoebus shineth on.
Aske if ye will,
Them that can skill,
And they wil not make strange:
That Phoebus bright,
Should haue full light,
Both at full and at change.
For they haue found,
That she is round,
And that halfe is aye bright:
Which is not straunge,
Though at the chaunge,
It be out of our sight.
For at that tide,
The further side,
From vs is toward the Sunne:
So that no light,
Sheweth to our sight,
To be vpon the Moone.
If this Moone should
Be bloud, none could
Make the scriptures agrée:
For the great dome
Saith Paule, shall come
Vpon men sodainlie.
Euen when men say,
All care away,
All thinges are in good plight:
This sodaine day,
Shall men affray,
As a théefe in the night.
If a théefe do,
Giue warning to
Him whose house he wil breake
Then may we say,
This sodaine day,
Shall not lie in our necke.
But I say if,
The subtile théefe,
Giue no warning before:
Then to thinke the
Moone bloud to be,
We were deceiued sore.
Then let vs sée,
What it may bée,
That Christ meaneth in this place:
Endeuouring
Aboue all thing,
To apply to his grace.
The Moone I call,
That sort through all,
To whō God giueth not grace.
To attaine to
Such things as do
Godly knowledge increase.
For all the light,
That shineth bright,
On them is from the sunne:
Which is no doubte,
The very roote,
That Gods grace lighteth on.
Of these Christ saith,
Your fruitefull faith,
Sheweth you to be the light:
Of this world round,
And of the ground,
The salte your surname hight.
This Moone no nay,
Is bloud this day,
For all their desire is:
To sée men fry,
And then they cry,
O godly sacrifice.
These men can sing,
None other thing,
But burne, burne, hang & draw:
Let no man scape,
Out of our shrape.
Be he wise man or daw.
Try we our might
(Say they) in fight,
Against our enimies:
It shall be good,
To sée their blood,
Runne out before our eies.
Let vs possesse,
All their richesse,
Let the knaues liue no more:
Shall we suffer,
Them to prosper,
That set by vs no store?
It is noble,
To be manfull,
Fie on all wretched knaues:
That to vs preach,
And would vs teach,
To liue like wretched slaues.
Let eche man try
It manfully,
what should we passe for lawes?
They were not made,
For to be had,
Amongest other than dawes.
Who would regard,
A knaue coward,
That dare not strike a stroke?
Say what you can,
He is no man,
But rather a dead stocke.
It is manhood,
To shed your blood,
For eche good fellowes sake:
He is a mome,
Iohn dwell at home,
That feareth a fray to make.
Alas this song,
Hath last so long,
That the Moone is all blood:
They thinke nothing,
But bloodsheding,
To be manly and good.
They take no shame,
To beare the name
Of Christ, whose doctrine is
Full of méekenesse,
And forgiuenesse,
Eche one of others mis.
And yet they will,
Shead mans bloud still:
As it were none offence:
But Christ shall quell,
Such into hell,
To make them recompence.
Thus he shall say,
At the last day,
To this noble manhood,
Auoyde from me,
All you that be,
The sheaders of mans bloode.
Then shall méekenesse,
Come and possesse,
Euerlasting glory,
And sufferance,
Inheritaunce,
That is not transitorie.
To the Iewes sterne,
Christ sayth, go learne
What this may signify:
I haue in price,
No sacrifice,
I delight in mercy.
Leaue tiranny,
And shew mercy,
Therfore ye men of power:
For he that is
Cruell, shall mis,
Of mercy in that hower.
Marke this thing well,
That the Gospell
Teacheth, to them shall bée
Iudgement, without
Mercy no doubte,
That shew extremitie.
7
THe Sunne is bright,
And giueth light,
As he hath done alway:
And shall do still,
Euen vntill,
The very iudgement day.
For as it did,
Till Noe entred,
Into the arke shine bright:
So shall it do,
Till Christ come to
Iudge all the worlde aright.
Some other thing,
Is the meanyng,
Therfore of Christ, where he
Sayth, Phoebus bright
Shall loose his light,
Before this day shall be.
We do knowe all,
The naturall,
Light of this worlde to be:
The sunne, and so
Alludyng to,
The spirite thus say may we.
Like as the Sunne,
Since he begunne
His course, hath giuen vs light:
So hath the secte,
Of Christes electe,
Bene glorious in our sight.
Wherfore he might,
Say thus of right,
The Sunne shall be darkened:
When he meaneth,
Their light faileth,
That haue to me harkened.
Such as professe,
All holinesse,
And would be called the light:
Of this worlde wide,
Shall ere that tide,
Be as darke as midnight.
Their life shall bée,
All vanitie,
They shall say and not do:
They shall offende,
And not amende,
Nor for their misse be wo.
This greate darkenesse,
Shall them oppresse,
Sayth Christ, let vs therfore
Marke this tyme well,
For the Gospell,
May be fulfilled this houre.
Do not men boast,
In euery coast,
That their trust is onely:
In Iesus Christ,
Sonne of the hiest,
And yet liue vngodly?
They that professe,
This perfectnesse,
Are of Christ called the light
Of this worlde wide,
Which at this tide,
Do shine nothing so bright.
As they did once,
When they did renounce,
All worldely vanitie:
Hauing no minde,
Treasures to finde,
That are but transitorie.
For Epicure,
Sought not pleasure,
So much as these men do:
That do vse most,
To make such boast,
Of Christ whom they cleane to.
Soft feather beds,
And for their heads,
Pillows wel stuft with downe:
No kynde of ease,
Can them well please,
Either in fielde or towne.
They may not eate,
Such kynde of meate,
As God giueth plenty:
They will not dine,
Without some fine
Dishes that be deintie.
They will not spare,
For them that are,
Opprest with pouertie
They take no kéepe,
Though other wéepe,
So they be not hungrie.
I can not tell,
Whether in hell,
May be lesse charitie:
Than is this day,
In most that say,
We know Gods veritie.
None take such care,
For dainty fare,
As they, none passe lesse howe
They get richesse,
So they possesse,
Therof plenty ynowe.
Their Simonie,
And vserie,
I thinke is right well knowne:
For all that may,
Be wonne that way,
Is counted for their owne.
Thus they are darke,
For their good warke,
Doth not shine in mens sight:
Though they professe,
Such perfectnesse,
As ought to shine full bright.
We may apply,
This prophecy,
To Gods worde, affirming
It to be darke,
Through the leude warke,
Of dunsecall learning.
The Moone also,
May be like to
Mans vayne inuentions:
Which are this day,
I dare well say,
Bloudy intentions.
But I seyng,
The misse liuing,
Of all degrées this day:
Haue chose rather,
And thinke better,
To take the other way
This haue I tolde,
Euen as I could,
The signes of the last day:
To be all past,
And that in hast,
The trumpetter shall say:
Fall in aray,
Fall in aray.
All ye of Adams stocke:
The shepehearde will,
Come from the hill,
To disseuer his flocke.
Then without let,
The shéepe shall get
Them vnto his right side:
The goates shall stande
At the left hande,
Iudgement for to abide.
God graunt that we,
May faithfull be,
And then we shall not misse:
At the last day,
To take the way
Into eternall blisse.
FINIS.
IMPRINTED AT LONdon by Henry Bynneman for Iohn Charlewood, dwelling in Barbican, at the signe of the halfe Eagle and the Key.