A pore helpe▪
☜⸫☞
¶ The buklar and defence
Of mother holy kyrke,
And weapē to driue hence
Al that against her wircke
❧ ❧
WYll none in all this lande
Step forth and take in hande
These felowes to withstance
In nombrelyke the sande
That with the Gospell melles
And wyll do nothynge elles
But tratlynge tales telies
Agaynst our holy prelacie
And holy churches dygnitie
Sayinge it is but papistrie
Yea fayned and Hipocrisy
Erronious and heresye
And taketh theyr aucthoritie
Out of the holy Euangelie
All customes ceremoniall
And rytes ecclesiasticall
Not grounded on scripture
No longer to endure
And thus ye maye be sure
The people they alure
And drawe them from your lore
The whiche wyll greue you sore
Take hede I saye therfore
Your nede was neuer more
But sens ye be so slacke
It greueth me a lacke
To heare behynde your backe
[Page] Howe they wyll carpe and cracke
And none of you that dare
Whiche one of them compare
Yet some there be that are
So bolde to shewe theyr ware
And is no priest nor deacon
And yet wyll fyre his becone
Agaynst suche felowes frayle
Make out with tothe and nayle
And hoyste vp meyne sayle
And manfully to fyght
In holy prelates ryght
With penne and ynke and paper
And lyke no triflynge Iaper
To touche these felowes in dede
With all expedient spede
And not before it nede
And I in dede am he
That wayteth for to se
Who dare so hardy be
To encounter here with me
I stande here in defence
Of some that be far hence
And can both blysse and sence
And also vndertake
Ryght holy thynges to make
Yea God within a cake
[Page] And who so that forsake
His breade shall be dowe bake
I openly professe
The holy blyssed masse
Of strength to be no lesse
Then it was at the fyrst
But I wolde se who durst
Set that amonge the worst
For he shulde be acurst
With boke, bell and candell
And so I wolde hym handell
That he shulde ryght well knowe
Howe to escape I trowe
So hardy on his heade
Depraue our holy breade
Or els to prate or patter
Agaynst our holy watter
This is a playne matter
It nedeth not to flatter
They be suche holy thynges
As hath ben vsed with kynges
And yet these lewde loselles
That bragge vpon theyr Gospelles
At ceremonies swelles
And at our christined belles
And at our longe gownes
And at your shauen crownes
[Page] And at your typttes fyne
The Iauelles wyll repyue
They saye ye leade euyll lyues
With other mennes wyues
And wyll none of your owne
And so your sede is sowne
In other mennes grounde
True wedlocke to confounde
Thus do they rayle and raue
Callynge euery priest knaue
That loueth messe to saye
And after ydle all daye
They wolde not haue you playe
To dryue the tyme awaye
But brabble on the Byble
Whiche is but vnpossible
To be learned in all your lyfe
Yet therin be they ryfe
Whiche maketh all this stryfe
And also the Paraphrasies
Moche dyfferyng from your portaises
They wolde haue dayly vsed
And portaise cleane refused
But they shall be accused
That haue so farre abused
Theyr tongues agaynst suche holynes
[Page] And holy churches busynes
Made hundred yeares a go
Great clearkes affyrmeth so
And other many mo
That searched to and fro.
In scripture for to fynde
What they myght leaue behynde
For to be kept in mynde
Amonge the people blynde
As wauerynge as the wynde
And wrote therof suche bokes
That who so on them lokes
Shall fynde them to be clarkes
As proueth by theyr warkes
And yet there be that barcke
And saye they be but darcke
But harke ye loulars harke
So well we shall you marcke
That yf the worlde shall turne
A sorte of you shall burne
Ye durst as well I saye
Within this two yeares daye
As soone to runne awaye
As suche partes to playe
When some dyd rule and reygne
And auncient thynges mayntayne
[Page] Whiche nowe be counted hayne
And brought into dysdayne
Suche men I saye they were
As loued not this geare
And kept you styll in feare
To burne [...]r faggottes here
Then durst ye not be bolde
(Agaynst our learnynges olde
Or images of golde
Whiche nowe be bought and solde
And were the laye mannes boke
Wheron they ought to loke)
One worde to speake a mysse
Can ye saye nay to this?
No no ye foles I wysse
A thynge to playne it is.
Then dyd these clarkes diuyne
Dayly them selues enclyne
To proue and to defyue
That Christes body aboue
Whiche suffered for our loue
And dyed for our behoue
Is in the sacrament
Fleshe bloude and boue present
And breade and wyne awaye
Assone as they shall saye
[Page] The wordes of consecracion
In tyme of celebracion
So muste it be in dede
Thoughe it be not in the crede
And yet these felowes newe
Wyll saye it is not true
Christes body for to vewe
With any bodyly eye
That do they playne deny
And stifly stande therby
And enterpryse to wryght
And also to endyght
Bokes both great and small
Agaynst these fathers all
And heresy it call
That any man shulde teache
Or to the people preache
Suche thynges without theyr reache
And some there be that saye
That Christ cannot all day
Be kept within a box
Nor yet set in the stockes
Nor hydden lyke a fox
Nor presoner vnderlockes
Nor clothed with powdred armyne
Nor bredeth stynkynge vermyne
Nor dweleth in an howse
[Page] Nor earyn of a mouse
Nor rotten is nor rustye
Nor moth eaten nor mustye
Nor lyght as is a fether
Nor blowne awaye with wether
Nor moulde or he be spent
Nor yet with syre be brente
Nor can no more be slayne
Nor offered vp agayne
Blessed sacrament for thy passion
Here and se our exclamacion
Agaynst these men of newe facion
That stryue agaynst the holy nacion
And Iest of them in playes
In tauerns and bye wayes
And theyr good ac [...]es dysprayse
And martyrs wolde them make
That brent were at a stake
And synge pype mery annot
And play of wyll not cannot
And as for cannot and wyll not
Thoughe they speake not of it it skyll not
For a noble clarke of late
And worthy in estate
Hath played with them chekmate
Theyr courage to abate
[Page] Marke well his text
He hath ben curstly vext
I teare me he be wext
A popistant flour
Surely all the rout
That heres hym shall doubt
He wyll be in and out
Prowlynge rounde about
To get forth the suout
If prayer maye do good
All the whole broode
Skuruy, shabed, and skalde
Shauen shorne, and balde
Pore priestes of Baule
We praye for hym all
Unto the God of breade
For yt he be deade
We maye go to bed
Blyndefylde and beled
Without rag or shred
But I am sore adred
I se hym lake so red
Yet I durste ley my heade
As doctor fryer sayde
He hath some what in s [...]ore
Well you shall knewe more
[Page] Herken well therfore
Some shall paye the shore
He hath ben a pardoner
And also a garddener
He hath ben a vytailer
A lordly hospytelar
A noble teacher
And so so a preacher
Thoughe Germyn his man
Were hanged what than?
Saye worsse and you can
Best let hym alone
For Peter Iames and Iohn
And Apostles euery one
I gyue you playne warnynge
Had neuer such learnynge
As hath this famous clarke
He is learned be beyond the marke
And also maister huggarde
Doth shewe hym selfe no sluggarde
Nor yet no dronken druggarde
But sharpeth vp his wyt
And frameth it so fyt
These yonkers for to hyt
And wyll not them permyt
In errour shall to syt
As it maye weliapeare
[Page] By his clarkely answere
The whiche intitled is
Agaynst what meaneth this
A man of olde sorte
And wryteth not in sporte
But answereth earnestly
Concludynge heresy
And yet as I trowe
Some bluster and blowe
And crake (as they crowe)
But nettes wyll we laye
To cache them yf we maye
For yf I begynne
I wyll brynge them in
And feche in my cosens
By the whole dosens
And call them coram nobis
And teache them do minus vobis
With his et cum spiritu tuo
That holy be both dao
When they be sayde and songe
In holy latyn tongue
And solemne belles be ronge
But these babes be to yonge
Perkynge vpon theyr patins
And fayne wolde haue the mattens
[Page] And eueinge songe also
In Englishe to be do
With mariage and baptysinge
Buryalles and other thynge
In vulgare tongue to saye and synge
And so they do it newly
In dyuerse places truly
Sayinge they do but duely
Mayntainynge it in any wyse
So shulde they do theyr seruyce
Alas who wolde not mone
Or rather grunt or groue
To se suche seruyce gone
Whiche saued many one
From deadly synne and shame
And many a spote of blame
From purgatorye payne
And many showre of rayne
Well yet I saye agayne
Some honest men remayne
And kepe theyr customes styll
And euer more wyll
Wherfore in dede my read is
To take you to your beades
All men and women I saye
That vseth so to praye.
[Page] That suche good priestes maye
Contynue so alwaye
Orels none otherlyke
But al lyeth in the dyke
And loke ye do not faynt
But praye to some good saynt
That he maye make restraint
Of all these straunge farions
And great abomynacions,
Because I maye nor tary
I praye to swete syr Harry
A man that wyl not vary
And one that is no sculker
But kan▪knyghte of the Sepulchre
That he maye stande fast
And be not ouer cast
Or els to be the last
Of all them that do yelde
In cyte towne or fielde
For yf he styke therin
No doubt he shall not blyn
Tyll he come to eternytie
With all his whole fraternyte
Amen therfore saye ye
That his partakers be
Ye get no more of me.
Finis.
[...]