THe Locretians had a speciall law, wor­thie to be noted of all good gouerned common wealthes, and chiefely of vs Englishmē, in these dangerous times, if euery one would looke into his dutie as he ought: For whosoeuer presu­med to call in question, any thing that passed, by the decrée of those, who were authorized by the Prince, to deuise, publish and establish good lawes among them, should be fréely heard, so he came collered with a halter about his necke, to the end, that deliuering pro­bable argument to maintaine his presumption, confounding (in reasonable iudgement) the same he argued on, and appro­uing his Councell to stand more with a common wealth: he was vnarmed of his Hempe, highly commended and prefer­red, both by Prince and people. But if he were conuicted in his arrogancie, and found more busie to reproue, than wise to maintaine: he was straight trussed vp according to deserte, whiles his fault and follie was in memorie.

Socrates gaue lesse libertie to his Citizens, for he woulde haue no lawe disputed of openly, not of those that had the au­thoritie to reforme them: much lesse that any other (eyther publikely or priuately) shoulde dare maintaine argument of them: For he considered how lawes are scanned, when they come to the discussing of the common sort.

If Englande (whose gouernment by Gods great blessing, executed in the person of our most sacred Soueraigne) had the lawes of Locretia, or the sharpe preceptes of Socrates, our Papistes durst not (for the rope) contende so openly, nor for feare of due iustice, presume so boldly (of their errours) as [Page 2] they doe. But such hath bin hir Maiesties mercie to them all, in pardoning, prolonging, bearing and forbearing, hoping that God woulde conuert them, or dutie reclaime them, couering with equal care to confirme hir louing subiects, in one minde, in one obedience, and in one profession, as they (abusing hir gratious clemencie) wax more indurate, and wilfully runne into all the ylles that may be:

If they would desire God to giue them the true knowledge of his worde, and stedfastly perseuer in prayer, to be instruc­ted by his holy spirit: no doubt but his diuine Maiestie would so open the eyes of their reason, as they shoulde sée what daunger they dwell in, to the euerlasting destruction of their Soules, and what cunnyng hath kepte them in their errour from the beginning: which true iudgement can no waye bee attayned vnto, vnlesse wée constantly continue in prayer, till we perfectly féele and iustly finde (in our selues) his heauenly blessing confirmed in vs.

Howe manye in all ages (euen from the first creation of man) haue deliuered (in the testimonie of their bloud) the most abhominable abuses of that Romishe Antichrist, on whome you so much depende? howe manye of all Nations, moste ex­cellent and learned wryters (by the authoritie of the sacred Scriptures) haue published infinite volumes, shewing & ap­prouing the most ioyfull fruites of the true & perfect professi­on of Christ crucifyed, and howe these two doe differ (in all degrées) no true Christian but knoweth, so farre as God may excell man, is not to be doubted: But so farre as his wicked­nesse may match with y ^e hatefull sinne of Lucifer, to the ma­lice of the heauenly Maiestie, this proude beast presumeth on. Haue the cloudes of errour so couered you as you cannot sée? hath the mystes of ignoraunce of meshid you, as you will not vnderstande? or doeth the furie of Pharao so bewitch you as you are become desperate? wyl not Moyses moue you, wyll not Gods worde wynne you, nor his threatnings reclaime you, excepte you haue myracles? can nothing but a Pope and his Pardons please you: your Pilgrimage to Saintes of [Page 3] both kyndes content you, and a muster of Masses, wyth a worlde of Monkes make you to séeme Christians? Haue not wée more good aduertisementes, more manifest signes and tokens, more sharpe rebukes, more gentle warnyngs, and more mylde admonitions than our elders had? Is not vice now better discouered, all sortes of sinnes reproued, and more liuely (to the quicke) both by worde and writing touched, than euer it was? yet what was colde in them, is frosen in you: where they innocently halted, you are willingly lame: where they were (by ignoraunce) dimme sighted, you are (by wilful­nesse) altogither blinded: & where they were harde of hearing, hauing no remedie, you are starke deffe in your stubborne ob­stinacie. How hateful and dangerous it was in those dayes, to deliuer the truth (vnlesse they woulde by fire alter into ayre) sundrie that suffered their tormentes testifyed. But you that haue the frée scope of the Gospell to entreate on, whereby you are taught the true waye to our onelye Sauiour, whose er­rours may bée eased, whose doubtes maye bee cleared, and (frée of all feare) may séeke, aske, knocke, bée resolued and re­ceyued, doe stubbornely stande on your owne conceites, hol­ding dreames for deuotion, and dwel in a moste hatefull hope of alteration. By Christ you are called, by the Prince com­maunded, and by your brethren entreated, to enter into a safe vnitie among thē: the Banket is prepared, gods word doth in­uite you, & (bringing your wedding garmēts) no guests more welcome: let no shame withholde you from so sacred a feast, grudge not to go, and the holy Ghost will guide you. There is more comfort (saith Christ) in one sinner truely repenting, thā in many that from their beginning haue continued constant. If to yéeld (in worldly causes) be wisedome, profit, and policie, howe much more will it benefite the health of our Soules, to returne (in singlenesse of heart) to his heauenly Maiestie, if to bende, bée better than to breake, let [...] plye and applye, our liuing to his liking, that hath power to bruse euerye bone, and to consume vs as chaffe before fire: let not our old Adam [Page 4] (whose knobbed and knotted braunches, will rather rende than cleaue) cause the whole body to bee caste into an euerla­sting and vnquenchable flame. It wil then bée too late to saye with Diues, send to my brethren that they maye knowe the distresse of the paine and tormentes I am in: you will true­ly bée aunsweared, they haue the Prophetes and Preachers among them, &c. You can no waye excuse your selues by ig­noraunte: for as the Sunne (excelling all other lyghtes) doeth shyne both on good and bad: so doeth the bright beames of Gods worde (farre surpassing the Sunne in clearenesse) extende an equall comforte (thoughe the vse bée not equall) as wel vpon the sinner, as the iust liuer.

Yet as the Ethyopians doe curse the Sunne for scortching them: so do the desperate, that are giuen vp to their owne lust, hate his heauenly word for rebuking them.

I haue hearde sundrye of your coate saye, that the loose lyuing of some our Prelates and Preachers, doeth make you the more to mislike their doctrine: deceiue not your sel­ues, it wyll passe for no payment: They lyue as fleshe, into are as men: wee muste direct our lyues to their sayings, and not to their doyngs. And it is also written, if an Angell come out of Heauen, and denuer you other doctrine, than is con­tained in the Testament of our Sauiour Iesus Christ, reiect him and beléeue him not. More, if they receiue not that you teach in my name, leaue them, & shake the du [...] of their dwel­ling Paule to the Gala. 1. 8. 9. from your feete. It shall be better (in the generall iudge­ment) for Sodome and Gomorha then with those.

Heare wée haue no commaundemente to followe their ly­uing, but we are hardly threatned to obey their Preaching, so long as they kéepe within the compasse of the Gospell, she­wing vs of no saluation besides Christ crucified, & that none may come to the Father, but by him.

You will obiect the sayings of Christ in the. 5. of Matthewe Sic luceat lux vestra coram hominibus, vt, &c. Let your light Math. 5. so shine before men, as they may see your good workes; and glorifie your Father that is in heauen. It is a good, and ghost­ly [Page 5] admonition, and I wishe it were so, yet no direct doctrine for vs, that if they liue not accordingly, to condemne their say­ings, by theyr doings: for if that be authoritie to confirme the one, or consounde the other: your selues shoulde looke into the liues of your Auntient fathers (so tearmed) as Abbots, Pry­ors, Monkes, Nunnes, and Friers, of all fethers: Bishoppes, Prebends, and Priests, of all sortes, with the liues of sundry Saintes, canonized by your Pops, and euen the Popes them­selues (with al their Colledge of Cardinals) in whose damna­ble trace you desire to drawe, without regarde to God, your Prince, profession, or Countrey, whose great abuses, from the beginning (founded on all filthy hipocrisie, respecting neyther person, place, nor times) manifested their liues to their lear­ning, confirmed their doctrine to their doing, with such, and so hatefull examples, as I sorrow to know them, shame to think of thē, & am much more hashfull to write them. Yet least you should say, I suppose more than I can proue: I will (in pardon of the learned) deliuer you somewhat, testified by the true au­th [...] and of sundry. Wherin, if I kéepe not the order of a perfect [...]ut bring [...]apher: impute it rather, to the imperfection of my [...], than to the basenesse of the matter: whose had substaunce (I cōfesse) may abhorre any Christian to read it, yet no more than is méete to be known. And therfore first I addresse me to theyr superfluous excesse in gourmandise, the surse and sinke of all sinne. The French prouerbe sayth, Apres la panse, vient la danse, After meate comes mirth: for gluttonie is the chiefe nourisher and leader to all inceste and letcherie: if you then ioyne the qualitie with the quantitie, of that they commonlye fed on: that is, to compare the finesse of their meate, to the fil­ling of their paunches: you shal finde then, that vnder the ti­tle of Holy pouertie, they were as curious and daintie mou­thed as might be, accounting of no God, but of the Pope, and their bellies.

As a Prior of Prouance, playing with his Minion, in the morning after he had gaped, stretched, belched and spitted, hée commanded a coople of Partridges to be rosted for his break­fast: [Page 6] whych when he had deuoured, with a pot of the best (half in a passion) saide, good Lord giue me patience, for we of the Church suffer sundry crosses, Affirming the furie of a Cardi­nall, that at a generall counsel grewe in a great chafe, bicause he was serued with Patridges and Wodcocks, without O­renges, Apo. Ste Fo. [...]. saying, what penaunce do we endure, and what per­secution do we passe for our Mother Holy Church? So as, the marke wherevnto all those grosse creatures of the Popes did tende theyr trauayles, was only to make good cheare, and to liue at ease and pleasure.

We reade of one, that before he was Pope (in signe of hu­militie Apo. Ste Fo. [...]27. and deuotion) would euer féede vppon a nette: but so soone as he hadde attayned the Papacie, he commaunded hys man, to set those bourde clothes aside, for he hadde gotten that he fished for. It was in those days, a familiar saying, to name a Frier or a Monke, a righte brother: which (in effect) was a good companion, one that loued to fare well, and to haue good fellowship: whereof procéeded this prouerbe, He lokes like an Abbot, he is as fatte as a Monke or Frier, he is as great as an Abbie lubber, and as wel in larde, as a hogge. As though there had byn some secret Sympathie, betwéen Hogs and Monkes, I meane, in puris naturalibus, In their own nature, for Sainte Anthoni [...] (a founder of their fraternitie) was first a Swine-heard, and then a Monke-heard: which truely appeared in hys professors, for they wente aboute, crying, giue something of your charitie, to the Porklings of Saint Anthonie. And a cer­taine Scot writing an Epigram, concluded his resolution, in these Verses.

And in trueth, what condition of life, could be more resem­bled to swine, than theirs, that commonly fed on the Church? [Page 7] whose order of liuing (besides their brutishe behauiour) was as carelesse of religion, as hogges are senselesse of reason. One of theyr owne profession, who knewe their nature by a true measure, and coulde shape a Monke by the shadowe of a beaste, or a beast by the substaunce of a Monke, describeth thē thus: he must be nastie, a glutton, slouthful, a whoremonger, ill giuen, a foole, blockish, a drunkard, and ignoraunt of al good Artes, drinke like a Pigge, and féede like a Hogge: So that, if he can a little sing, it suffiseth to be an Abbot. Another more abruptly, though as aptly, making a similitude of a thrée foo­ted stoole, by a Frier, sayth: he is rounded like a foole, clothed in graye like a Woulfe, and girded with a corde like a théefe: and yet is no foole but a Frier.

Our simple Priests, y ^t professed not so strict a life, whose pro­fits only cōsisted in y ^e merits of the Masse: had special care (how good soeuer theyr breade were) to drinke stil of the best, & good reason they had, to dry vppe raw humours, lest in celebrating theyr Masse, some rumaticke matter mighte drop from theyr drowsie braynes: as also deuotion is ryper, in a warme sto­macke than a colde: And according to the opinion of our olde As the father the son, the holy Ghost, the twelue Apo­stles, Marie, the Theefe, the Centuri­on the Pub­licā & others Poets: Post pocula fluit sermo. Therefore he that should play so many parts alone as those in their masking Massings do, had néede drinke of the best, and in a full cuppe: for if it be tolle­rable to saye hoc est nasum meum: This is my nose, in lieu of hoc est corpus meum, this is my hody: so it be done, cum intenti­one consecrandi: or no ill to cast a child into a tubbe of Water, so it be cum intentione Baptizandi: as sūdry their gloses cōfirm: what error can there be in a poore Massing Prieste, to drinke drunke, when it is done cum intentione missificand [...]: Ap. Ste Fo 330. Fo. 330. Fol. 331.

As a Curate at Fere in Tartenoys had drunke so déepe ouer night: that the next day in lieu of Christening, he ministred to the infant his last vnction.

And another priest at Ansterdā in Hollād, y ^t slept in his Me­mento, Apo. Ste Fo. 331. being sodainly wakened cryed y ^e king drinks: dreming he had bin in the company, he was drunk in the night before. Ap. Ste Fo. 592.

As also a Person of Vittre in Brytaine (ouerwatched [Page 8] at Post and Paire) dwelte so long in his Mement [...] that being hastily wakned, he cryed flush, and began to rake the Chalice to him.

A Curat of a village called old Slough, (betwéen Hamburge and L [...]becke) slepte so soundely in hys Memento as the partye Ap. Ste. [...]o. 37. who helped him to Masse (in the meane whyle) stole away the Chalice and the plate: And when the Priest wakened he ran after hym in hys robes, crying stoppe the théefe: who was worthyly mocked of euerye man, for that he did not first [...]ar­gaine with him, what he woulde haue for helping hym to Masse.

Among thys good companye, I must (in pardon) place a Apo. Ste Fo. 592. Chaplaine of the Lord de Bies. who setting in a corner of the aulter a draught of the best (reseruing it for his Vltimum vale, after he had sayde Masse) in the middest of his Memento, he spyed his boy about it: to whome he sodainely spake aloude, let it alone you villaine, it was not set there for you: whereby you may sée, what a speciall care these Masse Merchauntes had, to a cup of good Wine.

If I should from the Priest to the Pope, loke into al their excesse in delicacie and gluttonie: it woulde make a more vo­lume than my muse pretēdeth. But you may imagine of their meate by the men, and of their dyet by their degrees: For if the poorer sort (euē to beggers) could féede fat, ful and fine: you must suppose, the mytred, redde hatted, and triple crowned, cate not of the worst: but as their stomackes longed, so would they euer haue their lust aunswered.

Pope Iulie the thirde, otherwise called Iohn Maria de Mō ­te, Apo Ste [...]. [...]56. commaunded to haue a Peacock that was drest for dinner, to be kept colde for his supper: whiche not being done accor­dingly, he grewe in a great rage for it: a Cardinal, then being with him at y ^e bourd, perswaded his holynesse not to be angry: to whom the Pope replied, saying: if God were so highly offē ­ded in Paradise, to cast out our first father Adam frō thence, and only for eating an Aple: why shald not I (being his vicar on earth) be more furious for a Peacocke, knowing how farre [Page 9] it is in value aboue a rotten Aple.

The same Pope louing Bacon very wel, and wanting it at his bourd (in anger) asked hys Steward, howe it happened Fo. 356. he had not his Gammon of Bacon? to whom he answeared, your Phisitions charged me, to bring none before you, wher­at his holynesse entred into such a raging Passion, as he said: Porta mi quel mio piatio, al despetto de Dio, Bring me my Bacō, in despight of God.

Heare you haue their disordinate desire, to liue delicately: for the which, they spared no degrée, nor respected any person, but Epicure like, liued only to eate.

Which truely was the chiefest cause, why they entertay­ned the World in so great abuse, and yet doe, where their au­thoritie & antient credite hath place: for all their endeuour and Studie from the lowest to the highest, was to bring water to their Mill: To the ende, their téeth might want no griste to grinde on. And Turpe lucrum that which all Ethnick authours condemned and banished their common wealthes: These see­ming Christians, founde such sauour in, as these foolish toyes voyde of all reason (to the iudgemente of the wise) wroughte them the easiest and readiest way to infinite wealth. And all that hath bin or may be alleged to the contrarie, is but winde and labour lost, for that it is spokē to their bellies, which haue no eares: for they kepte this prouerbe, as a principle among them, Lucri bonus odor ex re qualibet, that is, The smel of gain is good of euery thing. For thoughe by worde and writing, they were ofte reproued for their shamelesse spoyles called péelers of the Church (in lieu of pillers) Crucifix Cormorāts, Masse féeders, Dissemblers, Grypers, Ipocrites, and rauening wolues: yet they forced no more of it, thā y ^e couetous Athenian did, of whom Horac [...] maketh mention thus: Populus me sibi­lat, at mihi plaudo, ipsi domi simul ac nummos contemplor in arca. The people do his [...]e at me, I reioyced at it, for at home I doe glorie at the sight of my golde in my Coffers. And truelye, notwithstanding they carryed the onely countenaunce of the world, yet were they mocked of sundry, but their faces were [Page 10] so brasen as they forced not of it. As a Monke of Bloyse replyed to one that scorned him: we maye well, and on an easie price, giue you leaue to mocke vs, séeing we gaine so much, by moc­king of you, who answered, not so outragiously, & w ^t such blas­phemie, as Pope [...]e [...]n the 10. did to Cardinal Bemb [...]e where Apo. Ste. Fo. 358. he alleaged a text of Scripture vnto him: what ritches do we acquire and get by this fable of Christ? where if he had sayd, by abusing the name of Christ he had spoken the truth. For it is incredible to consider what welth those of the Romish church did wallow in: As B [...]ptist Fulgosa (a great fautor and fauou­rer Baptist Ful­gosa li. 9. c a. 1 of their profession) doth mentiō vnto vs an example of one named Pete [...] Riarus which was first a Frier Minor, and af­ter made Cardinall by Pope Sixtus the fourth. For (saith he) this Riarus was not alone content to weare cloth of gold in his house, but his hangings and couerleds were likewise of clothe of golde, he also made a feaste to Ellenor of Arago [...] (that passed by Rome to marrie with Hercules de Est duke of Ferrara) that continewed in seruice seuen houres: with such magnificence, as at euerye course his seruauntes chaunged themselues into newe Liueries. All which Pompe was nothing to the pryde and brauerie of his Concubine named Tiresia, whom he kept in such sort openly, as hir shooes were all couered ouer wyth pearls and pretious stones, whiche Historie more at large is extant in Fulgosi [...] booke, intituled De hominum l [...]x [...] at (que) deli­tijs in the ninth booke and first Chapter.

And as the forenamed Pope Leon did wonder at the welth that the fable of Christe broughte them (as he moste blasphe­mously doeth tearme it) so is it iustifyed by a Frier of Millian (named Sampso [...]) that by one croysarde gathered to himselfe Fo. [...]36. 120. thousande Duckets, whiche he after offred for y ^e Papacy.

What greater contempt could be committed against the glo­rie A special pardon giuen by the Pope, by carrying a crosse aboute named a croi­sard [...] which commonly came forth vnder the pretence of going against the Iurke & other infidels. of God, or how could his poore members be more abused or bewitched, than they were by the colourable and cunning pre­text of this croysarde. For they perswaded the people, that if their beneuolence were bountiful to this crosse offring, they should be saued, with theyr fathers, their mothers, and theyr [Page 11] chidren: And to be slacke in giuing (or not to giue) was a sinne vnpardonable, and wrought their assured damnation. Which broughte the porer sorte into so desperate an error, as it caused them to guage or sell their soules to the Diuell in procuring money for them by all vnlawfull meanes, rather than they would lose the benefite of so large a blesting, and incurre the daunger of so certaine destruction, supposing in their simplici­tie, that this pardon preuayled, both against God and the Di­uel. In the time and Article of death, they would giue no hope of saluation to any, vnlesse they made Saint Francis, S Domi­nicke or some other Saint their heyre being patron of theyr profession. For they knewe howe to charme, the conscience of those, they confessed, as they would be sure to glean a good part of that, which the poore widow & hir children (in right) should liue on.

It is written, y ^t one of these holy fathers, most shamelessely Apo. Ste Fo 3 [...]4. affirmed in his Sermon at Burdeaux: y ^t when as often as any mony was giuē for those y ^t wer in purgatorie: their souls (hea­rīng it soūd tinck, tinck, in the basen) did al in great ioy, laugh the musicke of it. And since I haue made mention of Purgato­rie, I craue pardon of the reader: to note a pleasaunt example or two, touching the credite of it.

Pope Clement y ^e eight (with certain Prelates his friends) being besieged in y ^e Castel of Saint Angel in Rome a gentlemā Fo. 417. of the same Citie saide: If his holynesse (vppon whom all the world haue so long builded their opinion) can not frée himself, and his faythfull followers, from this place of imprisonment: I muste (for my parte) be constrayned to beleeue, that he is of much lesse power, able to deliuer poore soules out of Purgato­rie. A Florentine being earnestly solicited by certain Friers, to redeeme the soule of his son out of Purgatorie, promised, that Fo. 519. if they would take vpon them, and y ^t he might be assured they did it, he would (for their merit) giue thē a Ducket. After they had saide theyr charmes & solemne Masses for him, they came for their gold: to whō y ^e good mā answered, whē you shew me some assured sign, of his deliuery: I wil hold my word w ^t you, [Page 12] Those rauening mates, not so content (hoping by extremity, to obtaine their purpose) complayned to the Duke, who sente for the partie, and asked why he performed not his promise to them: to whom he aunswered, it rested on this condition, y ^t it should appeare to him, they had deliuered his son out of Pur­gatorie: & seing it was at the first, their own séeking, he (kno­wing them to be suttle) was loth to loose his money, without good & true testimonie: the Duke smelling y ^e mysterie, turned to y ^e Friers, & told thē he had reason: And therfore said, if you wil send y ^e same soule to me, or two others, to witnesse his de­liuerie, or bring me some writing vnder his own hād subscri­bed by Christ, I wil sée you shall be answered y ^e vttermost: o­therwise I should wrong him too much, & shew my self parti­al in Iustice.

A gentleman of Fraunce playing the same part, when they came to demaund money for the Masses they had saide for the Fo. 393. soule of his friend: he asked, if there were any daunger of hys returne again to Purgatorie, being once (by their good pray­ers) deliuered from thence: they answered no: why then quoth he, it were a needlesse charitie, to giue any thing for him y ^t is alredie in safetie: & therfore I thinke it a godly policie, to kepe my money in store, to pleasure some other poore soule, not yet deliuered, & so sent thē away fasting. A Venetian told y ^e Popes legat, y ^t his holinesse was euil councelled at the first, for it had bin more wisedom (said he) to haue published, y ^t he could haue deliuered soules out of hel, rather than out of Purgatory: for touching Purgatorie, it is to be considered whether there be such a place or no: but for Hell there is no question, since the whole world beléeues there is one. What treasure this toye of Purgatorie brought to your mother holy church, the pride of your Pope holy father, with al his marked traine, of Cou­les, crownes, and tippets, haue in all ages testifyed.

The French king being at Rome where séeing the pompe of Fo. 468. the Popes court (and specially of the Cardinals) asked y ^e Car­dinal of Autgnion if the Apostles of Christ went so sūptuously apparelled: he aunswered no: but your Maiestie must consider [Page 13] (sayd he) that states with time do alter, for the Apostles were fishers, & liued in those dayes when Kings were shepheards.

If you suppose it a reproofe to our profession, the lacke of sounde learning in some our ordinarie Ministers: looke into your Romish religion, and you shall sée examples of sundry to be more sottish, vnlearned, and lesse witted, thā the worst and simplest of our sorte. As one commended to a Bishop to be made a Massing Priest, whom he finding at dinner, the Bi­shop Apo. Ste. Fol. 403. to proue his Latine, saide: Es tu dignus? he answered, no sir I thanke you, I will dyne with your seruauntes, beléeuing that Dignus had bin to dyne.

An other comming to be Priested, and asked who was fa­ther to the foure sonnes of Amon, was set a ground, and an­swered Fol. 403. he could not tell, and therefore was refused. Who at his comming home shewed how hardly he was handled: his father to instruct him said: Ball my dogge hath foure whelps and who can be father to my whelps (thou beast) but Ball. This setled so great reason in his sonne, that he was assured now to be admitted: And so being asked the second time, who was father to the foure sonnes of Amon, he answered readily and wittily, Ball my fathers dogge. An other of the same Fol. 404. stampe, being demaunded, what parte was best of a rosted Pigge, answered the skinne, which was well lyked, and he admitted. A byrd of y ^e same neast standing by being likewise Fol. 404. asked, what part of a Calfe was most delicatest and daintiest, said the skinne, for he séeing the others answere to passe for good payment, supposed his coyne euery way as currant.

A certaine Frenchman that had serued a Scot, was persua­ded Fol. 501. (bicause he could a little reade) to become a Priest. When he should take orders, the Bishop speaking Latine to him, he answered that his maister vnderstoode Scottishe very well, but for his part he had not yet learned it, supposing the Bi­shop had spoken Scottish to him.

An other (of more learning but of lesse wit) being asked in Apo. Ste. Fol. 501. Latine, Quot sunt septem Sacramenta, answered, Tres, Asper­gillum, Thuribulum, & Magnum Altare: which is in English, [Page 14] How many be the seuen Sacramentes, the answere, Three, the Holye water Sprinckle, the Sensar, and the highe Altar.

And séeing occasion offereth it selfe to make mentiō o [...] holy water (in pardō of the patient reader, & to iustifie so necessarie a matter as holy water is to your holy mother Church) I wil not let slip the testimonie of thrée speciall authorities.

A certaine pleasant reproued bicause he did not put off his Apo. Ste. Fol. 572. Cappe when the Priest sprinckled him with holy water, an­swered, if it haue power (as you preache) to passe to Purgato­rie, surelye it must haue muche easier passage throughe my Cap.

A Gentleman of gallant spirit (named Godon) a Councel­lor Fol. 573. of y ^e Parliamēt Court in Fraunce, being present, whē king Francis the first of that name, was deuising (with others) the readiest meane, how he might staie or encounter the Empe­rour, who (as the report went) was cōming against him with a great power. Godon hearing some wishe they had so many thousand Gascoynes and some so many thousand Launceknights (with other sundrie wishes) said to y ^e King: séeing it is in que­stion to wyshe, if your Maiestie will pardon mée, you shall heare my wyshe, which shal be such as will cost you nothing, where all the rest of theirs depende on great charges, the King knowing his pleasant humor, wylled to shewe what he woulde wishe, sir sayde Godon I woulde wishe to become a Diuell, but for one quarter of an houre, that I might goe di­rectly to the Emperour, and breake his necke. Truely (quoth the King) I sée nowe you are no better than a foole, as thoughe the Emperour had not holy Water in his Countrey to chase awaye Diuels, aswell as wée haue here in Fraunce, In pardon of your Maiestie (replyed Godon) it may so be, and I beléeue some young Diuell (not skilfull of his crafte) woulde flye the holy Water: but such a Diuell, as had at any time bene a Godon, all the holy Water in the worlde, coulde not feare him, wherein he pleasantly touched the superstition of it.

A register in Paris named Lory hearing a Cardinall be­mone Fol 573. his Minion, for that shée was possessed of an euill spirit, [Page 15] and could by no skill or cunning be fréed nor eased, saide, I can shewe you a readie remedie. The Cardinall thrice glad, offe­red any recompence he woulde desire: Lory replyed, my re­warde shall be no more then my cost, and that is not muche, you néede not to giue hir but one Clister of holy Water, and that will chase all yll Spirites out of hir, if the force and ver­tue of it be such, as you saye we must beléeue.

I haue one pleasant proofe more of y ^e ignorance of your lacke Straparole. latines, worth the remēbrance, which is of a professed Priest of Normandie that would néedes trauell to Rome, for a licence to haue two Benefices, who desired his Bishop to write to the Pope in his commendation, imagining vpon his cōming what his holynesse would say to him: and as he vnderstoode by others (of his owne marke) that had bin there for the like pur­pose, he learned thrée Latine wordes, sufficient as he supposed to serue his turne, which for that it hath the best grace in La­tine, I am enforced so to deliuer it: for after he had saluted the Pope, & saide, Salue sancte Pater, the Pope woulde aske, Vnde venisti, then he should answere è Normandia: next his holinesse would demaunde, Vbi sunt litterae tuae, he shoulde say In manica mea, and so take his letters out of his sléeue and deliuer them, for Priests in those dayes commonly carried al their trashe in their sléeues. This gallant glorying in his learning, & trium­phing of his Latine, mumbled so much of it, as he did forget the first part, which put him into such dispaire, as he ment to returne, yet hoping that the image of our Ladie (whose chap­laine he was vowed) would do him some good, he went into a Chappell to performe his deuotion, where by y ^e appointment of our Ladie (as he after reported) the Priest in his Masse re­cited, Salue sancte parens, which was to our Norman the grea­test ioy that might be. For when he came to the Popes pre­sence, he saide Salue sancte parens, the Pope amazed at this new salutation, answered, Non sum mulier: y ^e Priest (dwelling vpō his instructions) followed with his lesson è Normandia, y ^e Pope thus crossed, said, Diabolum habes, the poore Priest replyed, In manica mea, supposing he had said well.

[Page 16] If men could be more ignorant than these Massing maies were, let the wise iudge: and no maruel, for their onely studie consisted in a speciall care howe to liue easilye and dai [...]tily. Was it not ridiculous to sée those, that séemed most prosounde and wisest, to vse in their Sermons so great absurdities. [...]or one alledging the authoritie of Seripture, to confirme the cre­dite of the Masse, enterpreted, Inuenimus Messiam, We haue founde the Masse. An other to proue their crossing by Scrip­ture, Fol. 586. affirmed, that Signa autem eis qui crediderunt, Make the signe of the Crosse on those that haue beleeued. Among which braue interpretations, is to be remembred a Curate in the Countrey of Artoys, that had a processe against his pa­rishioners for pauing of the Church, who alledged this text of Scripture for his purpose: Paueant illi & non paueam ego: Ieremie the 17. Chap. whereby he affirmed that S. Hierom said, that they shoulde paue the Church and not he. Also what way their glose had gotten, vpon this place of Scripture, Confitemini alter vtrum, Confesle your selues to the Priest, all the world doth knowe. Truely in this abuse consisted their greatest glorie, for al­thoughe their shamelesse liues (séene to the open viewe of the wise) were sufficient to reproue them and confound them, yet in this priuate confession, they practized more villanie, than any honest Christian can endure to heare or reade: which shall be hereafter partly touched in his place. Yet to shewe you in some sort, their absurditie and vaine glorie, I will deli­uer you two examples short and pleasaunt.

A certaine Mason comming to be shriuen by his Curate, Straparole. who had learned great wordes to countenaunce his credite with his Parishoners, to the ende that he would séeme a pro­found clearke and wise among them: demaunded of him (you must suppose with open mouth) whether he were Auaritious, who answered no: art thou (quoth he) Luxurious, he answe­red no: art thou not Superbous he answered no: Art thou not Inuidus or Irous? The poore man (ignorant of these termes) still answered no: y ^e Priest in a rage saide, what art thou then? a simple Mason sir (quoth he) as you may sée by my Trowell.

[Page 17] A poore shepheard being likewise asked by his ghostly fa­ther, whether he had kept the commandements of God, an­swered Straparole. no: whether he had kept the commaundementes of the Church, he answered (likewise) no: what hast thou kept then (quoth he) nothing sir saide the poore shepheard but my shéepe. Although the Pope thought it requisite that these Massing Priestes should haue no more learning than née [...]e [...] them: yet (sauing their honour) some of the greatest, could mistake their Latine, aswell as the rest. For Henrie the. 8. of famous memorie, sending (among other things) to Fran­cis the French King and the first of that name twelue great Mastiues, as parcell of his present, writing thus: Mitto ti­bi duodecem molossos twelue degges: which Prat his Chaun­cellor and a great Sorbonist Doctor tooke to be Duodecem muletos twelue moyles: and therefore desired his Maiestie to giue him him the twelue Moyles that King Henrie had sent. It is straunge sayde his maister, that Moyles shoulde be sent me out of Englande, and therefore willed to sée the letters: where the king founde the errour, and Prat percei­uing it, said he mistooke Molossos for Mulettos.

And séeing I haue occasion to call this Prat into the play, the more to manifest vnto you his couetous life matched with tyrannie, & his miserable death ioyned with blasphe­mie, being of the Church of Rome a professor, and of y ^e poore members of Christ a cruell persecuter: I will deliuer you the same which is written of him, simply as I finde it.

This Prat after he had bailded a faire Hospitall (which Apo. Ste. Fol. 379. the king séeing saide it was not large yn [...]ugh, to lodge all those that Prat had made poore) fell sicke of such a horrible disease, as the wormes did guawe and pearce throughe his stomacke, not without cursing & despiting of God, both for payne and extreme impatience: occasioned aswell by the griefe he felte, as of the hatred he had, to sée all his Cofers sealed vp: that he sayde, thus it is to serue the King both with bodye and soule. This Prat was the first in Fraunce, that brought and presented to the Parliamente house the [Page 18] Inquisition of Heresies: he gaue forthe the first Commis­sion to execute those that spake against the Romishe Church, whose blaspheming death confirmed the crueltie of his life, for cleane forgetting God and his mercie, he mani­festly shewed what Saint he serued.

Also Ponchar Archbyshop of Toures, following the e­rection of a burning Chamber, he was (by the fire of God) Apo. Ste. Fol. 379. burned himselfe: which beganne at his héeles and féete, and increased so vpwarde throughe all his bodye, as they were fayne to cut his members by péece meale away.

One Iohn Ruze, a Councellor also of the Parliament, y ^e cruellest persecuter of Christes professors in his time, was Fo. [...]79. likewise punished by y ^e secret fire of God, y ^t he felte himselfe burne as in a furnace: & shewyng no signe of remembring God, his whole body consumed withal, and so dying in most horrible blasphemie, he refused to call to God for mercie.

And as the Diuine iudgement was executed vpon this, so Fol. 380. was it vpon another Councellor of y ^e Court, named Claude de Asles, for the same day y ^t he gaue sentence for y ^e burning of two true professors, immediately after, vsing y ^e companie of his harlot (in the verie act) was taken with an Apoplexie and so sodainely dyed. Likewise one Iohn Menier Lorde of Oppide, a follower with all his force, for the burning & Mas­sacring Fol. 380. of Christ in his mēbers: was taken himselfe with such a burning strangurie, as with the paine thereof he fell into so extreme impatience, y ^t he blasphemed God euen to his last breath, saying, why should not I curse him, whom those damnable Lutherans did glory and praise in the mid­dest of their tormentes? By this the reader may iudge in what miserie those men dwell, whose consciences giue them such horrible assaults, as a late Chaūcellor of Fraunce, migh­tily combatted by his conscience, at the instant of death cri­ed, Ah thou Cardinall thou Cardinal, thou dost cause vs all to be damned. An example of Gods great iustice, on those that séeke the Innocent bloud of his professors.

I did at the first craue pardon of the mildest minded Pa­pists, [Page 19] to beare with my error, if I placed not my authors as I ought, which I confesse may manifest my ignorance, yet truely they néede not feare, that it will marre the credite of their matter, the substance is so good: and therefore to con­firme old prouerbes, Sine Cerere & Baccho friget Venus, I wil shewe you some examples, what fruites followed the hate­full excesse of the Crucifix cormerantes, who sed onely on their holy mother Church.

A certaine Gentlemā of Perigourd in Fraunce, held in his house a Frier, his confessor, whō he fauoured for his coūcel, Apo. Ste. Fol. 303. and reuerenced for his profession. This Gentleman (whose wife had lien in childe bed the space of thrée wéekes) deter­mined one night to haue hir company, which our Frier per­ceiuing, so vsed y ^e matter, as he preuented his maister, enioy­ed his place, & (kéeping himself silent) [...]ūningly (vnknowē) departed from hir, which done, he hasted to his house, called y ^e porter, & fled the punishmēt of his fault. The husband cō ­ming to his wife (as he had pointed) & she simply supposing he had bin w ^t hir before, deliuered such spéeches vnto him, as he perceiued y ^e treason committed against them both. Then considering how none laye in y ^e quarter of house, except hir brother & his confessor, entred into suspition of him, & went straight to his Chāber, where he foūd him not, which great­ly increased his ielousie: but whē he had spokē w ^t his porter, he was assured of y ^e villanie, & returning to his wife, mani­fested y ^e circumstance of y ^e mischiefe vnto hir, wherat y ^e poore Gentlewoman was so abashed, & grieued, y ^e it brought hir into extreme dispaire, as being left alone (hir husband gone after y ^e Frier) hir innocent heart yéelded to hir féeble hand, & strāgled hir self, who wrestling w ^t the agonie of this cruel death, did (with hir foote) kill hir little infant that lay by hir: and giuing a great crie (at hir last gasp) wakened hir maide that foundly slept in the same Chamber: when she sawe this pitifull spectacle (past all remedie) she called hir Maistresse brother, who beholdyng the lamentable condition of hys sister and hir child, demaunded of the maide who it was had [Page 20] committed this cruell Acte: she answeared she coulde not tell, vnlesse it were hir maister, for she certainly knew none but he had bene there. This Gentleman, sought his bro­ther in his owne chamber, and finding him gone, he exclai­med against him for y ^e murder, and with reuenging minde he tooke his horse to followe him, supposing he had bin fled for the horriblenesse of the fact: whom when he heard re­turning (for the darkenesse of the nighte had taken frō him the author of all his woe) he violently flew vpon him (with wordes of reproch, calling him most wicked wretch & tirā ­nous traitor) ran him through with his rapier. The gentle­man hauing no leasure to enquire the occasion of so sodaine assault, being wounded to death, yéelded vnto him. But when he vnderstoode the villanie, with his brothers inno­cencie, he ouer late craued pardō for the harme he had done him, remount [...]d him aswell as he might, and brought him home to his house, where the next day following he likewise dyed. By this tragedie we sée, how the leud lust of a Frier was the occasion of the murdering of thrée innocent per­sons.

In the time of the Emperour Maximilian the first, there was in his countrey a Couent of Friers, highly renowned Apo. Ste. Fol. 337. for the opinion that euery one had in their holy profession. Néere vnto which Abbey there dwelled a Gentleman of great worship and credite, who fauoured these Friers, wi [...]h a seruent zeale of deuotion, and was a speciall benefactor vnto them Among which companie, he chose to himselfe a confessor, to whom he gaue full power and authoritie ouer his house and housholde. This lecherous lubber became so enamored on the Gentlewoman, as (resolued to put his lust in execution,) comming to hir house, and finding not hir husbande at home, he demaunded of hir whether hir husbande was gone, shée answeared, to a Farme that hée had, where he ment to make his abode for thrée or foure dayes, but if hée had anye speciall matter to doe wyth hym, shée woulde presently sende a Messenger for hym: [Page 21] wherevpon he taking occasion to performe his damnable pretence, walked vp and downe about the house, as one y ^e had some matter of importance, or some greate mischiefe hammering in his head. The gentlewoman perceyuing it (for that his countenance argued, he was not content) she sent one of hir maydes to know, if any of hyr house had of­fended him, or that he lacked his desire in any thing. This mayde doyng hir mistresse message, the Fatherly Frier, or rather Hellish fiende, toke hir (in signe of curtesie) by the hande, and leading hir aside into a corner of the Court, he cut hir throate. In the meane while there arriued a Te­naunt of the gentlemans that brought him rent, who hū ­bly saluted the Frier, & he embrasing him (with the same knife he had murdered the mayde, which was skant cold of hir bloude) he likewise cut his throate, and after closed the Castel gate vnto him. The gentlewomā musing y ^t hir chā ­ber mayde returned not, sent hir companion to cal hir, and to know the cause of hir stay, which the Frier (in sort as a­fore) toke hir by the hande, and with the same bloudie stra­tageme, sent hir after hir play-fellow. Then when he saw himselfe alone in the house, he came to the gentlewoman, and deliuered hir the effect of his diuellish desire: shewing how long he had earnestly loued hir, & that now the houre was come, that she muste néedes yéelde vnto his will. She that neuer had any euil opinion in him, and least loked for any such salutation, answered, my good Father, I beléeue if you knew me to be so euil disposed, or y ^t you thought I had so bad a conceite in me, you would be the first y ^t would ei­ther reclaime me, or discouer my shame for it. The Frier (to cut of al circumstaunces, and to preuent that might fol­low) flatly perswaded hir, there was no remedie: willyng hir to go into y ^e Court, where she shoulde sée the sū of hys pretence. When the gentlewoman beheld hir two maids and hir tenaunt lying in that pitiful case, she was so asto­nyed and ouerset with feare, as she remayned spéechlesse. This villaine (who made no account to enioy hir compa­nie [Page 22] for one time, but to haue the abuse of hir body for euer) woulde not force hir, and therfore sayde: Mistresse be ruled by me, and doubt of no daunger, for you are in the handes of him, that loues you aboue al y ^e men in the world: and so taking forth the gowne of a Nouice (which he had brought with him for the same purpose vnder his lōg robe) he wil­led hir to put it on, otherwise she shold passe the same paine those had done, which lay before hir eyes. The gentlewo­man séeing hir owne peril (as well to saue hir life, as to gaine time, in hope that hir husbande woulde come to hyr rescue) she fayned willingly to obey him: and at the com­maundement of the Frier, vntyred hir heade, wherein she vsed as much delay as she might. But in the end, when she was in hir haire, the Frier (not regarding the beauty of it) did hastily cut it off, and further caused hir to strip hir selfe to hir smocke, and to put on the little frock he brought with him: whych done he made al the haste away that he could, carrying wyth hym his heauye and sorrowfull Nouice, whose companye he had (in beastlye lust) so long desired. But it pleased God, that hyr husbande, (who had dispat­ched hys businesse sooner than he supposed he shoulde before his going) returned home by the same waye, that hys distress [...]d wife and thys murder [...]us mate was com­ming. When the Frier perceyued him a far off, he sayde to hir: beholde where commeth youre husbande, who I know, if you make any countenaunce to discouer your self, hée wil take you from me: Therfore go you before me, and sée that you turne your face on the contrarye side, that he perceiue you no [...]: for if you make anye signe or ge­sture vnto hym, I will sooner cutte your throate, than he shall be able to frée you out of my handes. In whiche dis­course, the Gentleman approched, who, after he had salu­ted him, asked him from whence he came: to whome he boldly and shameleslye aunsweared, from your house sir, where my Mistresse youre wise is verye well, and doeth earnestlye looke for you. The gentleman rode on, not [Page 23] perceyuing anye thing: but hys seruaunte, who was accustomed to entertayne thys Fryers companion (na­med Frater Iohn) supposing it hadde bene hée, called vn­to him. The poore gentlewoman, perplexed in all the pas­sions of minde that might bée, durste not turne hir heade towardes hym, nor aunswere anye one word: notwyth­standing, the fellowe to sée hys vizage, crossed the waye of hyr, to whome (so farre as shée durste) she made a sor­rowfull signe, wyth hyr trembling eyes, that were ful of teares: The seruaunte supposing some mysterie in it, and gessing at a glaunce who it shoulde bée, he ha­sted after hys Mayster, and tolde hym, that the Fry­ers companion was not Frater Iohn, but séemed to bée hys Mistresse, who hée affirmed (wyth a face all couered wyth teares) shée dyd caste a pitifull regarde towardes him. The Gentlemanne, halfe offended at hys follye (as he thoughte) sayde hys manne was madde, and made no accounte of hys wordes: yet he still continewed in hys request to hys Maister, desiring leaue to returne, and to sée the trueth of that hée imagined. Wherevnto the Gentleman agréed, and stayed to heare what newes his man would bring him. The Fryer looking back, and hearing hym call Frater Iohn, doubted leaste he had dis­couered hys Mistresse: and therefore with a long armed batte (a common weapon for those mates to martch wi [...]h) hée so reached at the fellowe, as he felled him off his horse, and straighte leaping vppon hym cutte hys throte: hys maister, who sawe a farre off hys man ouerthrowne, sup­posed hée hadde fallen by some mischaunce, and therfore hasted to helpe him vppe againe. But when he came nere to thys desperate and sturdie Frier, with the same blessing that he vnhorsed the man, he vnhorsed the maister, and cast himselfe vpon him, with al the violence he might: and if y ^e gentlemā had not bin both bolde & strōg, y ^e Frier had there ended the Tragedie. But by his strength, he helde him so harde in hys armes, as he coulde doe him no more hurte: [Page 24] And withall forced him to forgo the knife wherewith hée had performed all this mischiefe, which his wife séeing it fall from him, toke it vp, and put it into the hande of hyr husbande. The case béeing altered, the gentlewomans courage encreased: for in the moste furious manner that she myghte, she bestyrred hyr to plague hym, that hadde so muche punished hyr: And in the meane tyme the gentle­man so stabbed in the Frier, as he was fayne to yéelde, & confessed the trueth of hys faulte. The Gentleman would not kyll hym, but kepte hym to discouer more, and to re­ceyue some sharper correction, for hys so horrible an of­fence: and so carryed hym to the Emperours iustice in Flaunders, where he vttered the order of the execution of this mischiefe, wyth the cause, shewing what a number of Gentlewomen and beautifull may [...]s (by the like mur­ders and treasons) were closely kepte in theyr Monaste­rie, which proued true, by commissioners appointed, they first deliuered for the all suche women as they found moste pitifully closed in theyr Cloysters, and (for an euerlasting memorie to their posteritie) they shut vp all the Friers in the Abbey, and burned both the house and those damnable wretches togither.

Here you haue a manifest mirror of all the mischiefes that may be, whiche sheweth no single sinne, and in one priuate, but by a moste bloudy and common consent of the whole Couent: the like neuer heard nor redde off afore, cō ­mitted by any Barbariā, Iew, Turke, or Heathen. I shold (in troth) do double iniurie to our new found Iesuites, and depriue them of the honor they deserue, if I should not ap­point them (as guestes twice welcome) a speciall place in these bloudy banckets: for albeit neither Saint Francis, Saint Dominick, nor Saint Anthony, was acquainted wyth thē: yet are they cloth of the same wool, and wil proue no worse in the wearing though dyed into an other colour, for you shall finde them as ignoraunt as Monkes, as imputente and shamelesse as Monkes, and as mischieuous & profane [Page 11] as Monks: and therfore, for affinitie, fraternitie, and socie­tie, they haue all vowed their deuotion to one Saint. And where they be (indéede) auntient, and can claime their anti­quitie from the fall of Lucifer, yet as politicke children, fol­lowing the suttletie of their Father (to deceiue the iniqui­tie of time) do maske vnder a straunge visarde. By whiche pretext, they haue promised, to restore England to their Ro­mishe mother holy Church agayne. And therefore to fur­ther theyr sayling, that they may the sooner be set a shore at Wapping, I will shewe you a créedible example or two (cō ­mitted by some of their profession) as horrible as the reste.

A Gentleman of Lymosin (Lord of Saint Iohn de Lygours) abusing his wiues mother, and hauing children by hir (vn­der benedicite,) discouered his fault to one of this fraterni­tie: who to proue their profession frée of no sin, exercised the craft of coyning, and now toke occasiō (hauing this gentle­mās head at his foote) to perswade him to ioyne in making of counterfaite money with him. After they had practised this matter long betwéen them, the Iesuit séeing the in [...]est to presse the gentlemans conscience (as it dayly vnquieted him) for all the ordinarie absolutions he had giuen him: and finding, that he toke greater pleasure in the mother, than in y ^e daughter, he perswaded him to marry hir: shew­ing that the marriage was most lawful in hir, in whome he most delighted: confirming y ^t the matrimonie he dwelt in, and all that came of it was accursed. And therfore hée toke in hande, to frée him from this care: whiche he execu­ted in the absence of the gentleman, thoughe his consente were with him. So, entring on a night into the Castell ac­cording to his custome (hauing coltes of his owne coate with him) wente straight to the gentlewomans chamber, whose throat he cut in hir bed, and after murdered hir two little infants that lay by hir: the one of them, calling him by his name, held vp his hands, and leapt into his armes for mercie, as he confessed at his execution. Not satisfied with this (with the helpe of his companions) he massacred [Page 26] all that he founde in the house: and to couer the fault, mea­ning to burne them, he brought their bodyes togither into one chamber, and set fire on the whole Castell. But God, whose prouidence would not suffer the fire to consume nei­ther the one nor the other, they were pitifully founde, the murderers taken, and the fault confessed, whiche the gen­tleman hearing, fled to Sauoye, and passing for Gene, was knowne vpon the way, followed to Lausanne, and there exe­cuted. Oh wretched condition more than damnable, deuised without malice, performed without mercie, and by a Iesuit of the Popes professors.

A foule of the same feather, in Vienna in Austrie méeting vpon the way a poore yong mayde of the age of nyne or ten Apo. Ste Fol. 306. yeares, whose beautie, and bodie (though in bare tearmes) was not to be mistiked: he taken in a sodaine lust to hyr, perswaded the yong thing that he woulde better hir state, if she woulde be ruled by him. The Girle séeing him to séeme a holy Father, and like a maister in Israel, supposed she had founde good fortune, beléeued hys perswasion, & wēt to hys Cloyster with hym, where she was for a time closed in hys Cabinet, and in the end, desiring to enioy a more li­bertie, she was rounded, crowned, and vested in Saint Ie­sus habit, and so continewed many yeares, in sort as a No­uice. In Anno. 1569. a gentlemans sonne of the Citie, accu­stomed to come among them, happened to breake a glasse Windowe, belonging to thys holye Father: who layde hande vpon him for it, had him in, & hanged the poore childe by the hoeles, with as many scourges, as he and his darling coulde (in charitie) bestow vpon him. Which known to the Father, desirous to be reuenged of the harme done to hys sonne (without any threats) he inuited them to supper: who being arriued, and entertayned into sundrye places of the house (attending in hope, the time of theyr good cheare) they were at last brought into a greate chamber where certaine gallants wer ready to receiue them of purpose to performe the pleasure of theyr maister: who after they had vsed a [Page 27] long admonition, touching the iniurie done to hym and hys Chyld, they did read our Iesuit such a whipping Chap­ter from the heade to the héeles, and basted him so on bothe sides for burning, as they toke his stomacke cleane from hys supper. And when they wente about (wyth the same lesson) to teach hys Nouice to spell and to put togyther: our olde leachor on both hys knées entreated for hym, offering to suffer as much more (though it were painefull to hym) so they would spare him. Notwithstanding, seeing hee was a partner at the childes punishmente, they stripped hym, whereby the mysterye of hys lewde life was discouered: whyche being deliuered to iustice, he boldlye, and shame­leslye aunsweared, it is written that it is not good for a man to be alone, and therefore he hadde chosen hyr for his com­panyon.

By thys is shewed not alone the order of theyr liues be­ing a principle of theyr profession, and a generall rule to all of their Courte: but also it manyfesteth theyr shame­lesse doyngs, adding sinne to sinne (by blasphemie) apply­ing the Scripture to theyr beastly & more than abhomina­ble behauiour.

A Widowe of greate wealthe in Padua, hauing one Apo. Ste. Fo. 308. of this cloth and colour to hir cōfessor, in whose holinesse she reposed the whole hap of hir age, as wel for the good opiniō she had in him (for these fellowes haue the fetche according to the suttlety of the first Serpente to creepe into the consci­ences of women) as for the deuotion she bare to his order. Thys gentlewoman on a time, bemoned hyr selfe vnto him, shewing howe hyr greatest c [...]re was, for y ^e marriage of hir daughter, hir only chylde. He who had for al paymēts his aunswere ready coyned sayde: surely Mistresse I thinke your motion happeneth verye well: for God who forséeth the petitions of the iust, euen as he sent his Angel Raphael to Tobias, so hathe hée broughte me a speciall Hus­bande for your daughter, and such a one as your own hart would wishe or desire. For I assure you, I haue nowe in [Page 28] my hands, the moste honest yong gentleman of all Italie: who hathe heretofore séene your daughter, loueth hir per­son, and greatly commendeth hir behauiour: so, as thys daye (being in the beste parte of my prayers) this gentle­man moued by the holye Ghoste (as he tolde me) came to craue my counsel, and declared the good affection he hathe to marrie wyth hyr. And I that knowe hys house, hys friendes, and himselfe, to be of a fayre liuing, promised to speake vnto you of it. This Iesuit, or this Sathan in the shape of a man, to auoyde suspition, the cunninger to car­rie at befo [...]e him, and with the more finenesse to abuse this poore widowe: did affirme his worthinesse euerye waye, if one inconuenience, were not the let to so good a motion, and that none in the Cittie dyd knowe of it but hymselfe. Whiche was, where he would haue succoured his friend, that another soughte to murder, he drewe his Rapier, meanyng onlye to parie them, and it happened his friend to kil hys aduersarie: wherfore he (although he strucke ne­uer a stroke) is fledde from hys Countrey, bycause he as­sisted the manslayer. And by the Councel of his friends, he is retyred to this Citie, in y ^e habit of a scholler, where hée meaneth to continewe vnknowne, vntil hys kindered and friendes haue taken order in the matter for his libertie, whiche hée [...]op [...]th will bée verie shortelye: So that for this reason, if you like of the partye vppon my faythfull per­swasion, the marriage muste be made in as secrete sorte as maye [...]e: and withall, you muste be contente in the day, to suffer hym to repayre to the common Lectures, the more to couer the suspition: And euery night to the comfort of you and your daughter, hée shall accompanye you to your best pleasure. The good gentlewoman, who was easily be­witched to beléeue these counterfaite Gods, thought hir daughter better prouided for, than she coulde otherwise by any mean deuis [...]: [...] therfore toke so great pleasure to heare the deuise (according to y ^e p [...]ouerb: It is easie to deceiue the simple and true meaner) as vppon those conditions, thys [Page 29] Minion was brought, and they fianced the same day: and after midnight (for the more hast to receiue of the olde wo­man fiue hundred duckats in lieu of hir daughters dower, which like false harlots they parted without any broker) he saide Masse and marryed them: after which marriage, they liued a certaine tyme together with equall content­ment, to the great comfort of hir mother, who highly than­ked God and hir confessor, for the good happe of hir daugh­ter. But in the end, a Dominus vobiscum (pronounced by this For all other were in re­spect but beg­gers to these Iesuites. honest young Gentleman, who was both a Iewe, a Iesuit, and a Priest) so discouered the matter, as their knauerie be­gan to appeare in their kinde: for this newe married wife following the deuotion she bare to this proude profession, waiting on hir mother to heare Masse at their Couent, euen as this companion turned to say Dominus vobiscum, y ^e poore young womā, stoode more astonied than a founder of Bels. And after she had a little recouered the extacie that this so­daine sight brought hir into: she shewed hir mother plaine­ly that he which said Masse was hir husband, or at the least one that resembled him muche. The olde woman making very daungerous to heare it, woulde not be persuaded that any such mockerie coulde be committed by those that were so holy, accounting it the greatest sinne that might bée, to haue so harmefull a thought of them: and therefore sought to remoue that damnable opinion from hir daughter. But the Ite missa est, manifested the whole mischiefe, for then it did not alone confirme y ^e daughters feare, but it also brought a doubtfull imagination to hir mother: notwithstanding she suspended hir earnest beliefe, vntill she might sée more proofe of it: and therefore she concluded, that at night when he should come to lie with his wife, the mother should (as it were in a iest) holde both his handes, whilest the daughter pulled of his coife, which practized and performed accor­dingly, they found his crowne faire shauen, that bewrayed the knauerie. Then there was no more question whether he were a Priest, but they both bethought, how they might [Page 30] be reuenged of so great an iniurie, for she was robbed, hir daughter spoiled, & both infamed, and all by the lewd abuse of hir confessor, for whom she presently sent, faining to haue some great secrete to shewe him. And calling hir friendes vnto hir, they apprehended them both, and deliuered them to iustice: who quitted them on easie conditions, for Tem­porall Iudges durst not lay violent hand vppon so sacred a profession, they had so bewitched the worlde, and so blinded the eyes euen of the greatest Princes, as they forced of no fault, for their superstitious & proude tyrannie was euer a bulwarke to all their villanie, which they onely presumed on, by the authoritie of their Popish libertie, as this exam­ple doth manifest the same.

ACurate of Clauenie, in the Dutchie of Guyen, did séeke to Apo. Ste. Fol. 172. subborne the daughter of an honest man of the same towne, to his lewd iust & pleasure, whom he haunted in all places where she went, notwithstanding she still flatly & constant­ly denied him, which bred the greater fire to his beastly de­sire. And therefore one day the maide going to hir Fathers Farme (somwhat out of the towne) this Minion masked in blew sarsnet, set al ouer with little starres of golde, hauing a fine Lawne ouer his face, & his armes and legges bare, but couered likewise with Lawne, in this atfire he appea­red vnto hir on the way, & (with a counterfeit voyce) shew­ed hir, y ^t he was the virgin Marie, declaring vnto hir, howe sundry afflictions should fal on y ^e towne, for the Lutheran heresie y ^t was entred among thē (against which this Priest was a great Preacher) w ^t sundry other purposes, touching y ^e same, and further willed hir to shew it to y ^e towne, that they might celebrate hir feast with fasting & prayer, telling hir withal how she had refused y ^e friendship & loue of a holy per­son, who in the same place (not long before) made sute vnto hir, for y ^t she denied him: and therfore if he sought any thing at hir hands hereafter, y ^t she should obey him, & there would great happinesse followe hir by it: charging hir that shée shoulde not discouer this laste parte to anye Creature. [Page 31] The simple wench beléeued all for truth, and deliuered it as a prophesie, to forewarne them of that shoulde happen to Clauenie: for the which cause (at the first) the inhabitantes feared much: & in the meane time this poore soule yéelded to his villanie, which was shortly after spyed, the practize dis­couered, and he executed, as well worthie.

In a village neare vnto Coignacke called Shernes, the per­son Apo. Ste. Fol. 318. there abused his owne Sister so long, as in the ende he gat hir with child: which the Curate so couered, as she (be­ing holden verie holy, through hir déepe hipocrisie) was ta­ken to be as chast a virgin as might be: and therefore when this fault was spied, he shamed not to publishe, that it pro­céeded of the Holy Ghost, and that she was a second virgin Marie: the brute whereof comming to the hearing of Erle Charles of Angoleme, he sent of purpose to sée how it was, for that he suspected some abuse in it: in whose presence the supposed virgin (of y ^e age of. 13. yéeres) being solemnly char­ged by hir brother vpon the damnation of hir soule, to deli­uer them the truth (repeating the second time the same ad­miration) she answered, I take this holy Sacrament to my damnation before you all here present, that neuer any man did carnally knowe me, or in that sort of sinne touch me, no more than you my brother haue done: they hearing so vehe­ment a vowe, returned and confirmed the shamelesse report that was afore: but the Erle being wise, and noting the order of hir othe nearer than they did, founde the fire by the smoke, and therefore sent againe, commanding they shoulde be seuerally committed, and seuerally examined, whereby the truth was confessed, and they both altred into ashes and dedicated to Vulcan. An example of a horrible in­cest ioyned with blasphemie, which witnesseth among y ^e rest of these histories, the continent and chast liues of those that were vowed from Matrimonie, approuing the godly furie of the Cardinal of Tournon, who hearing that a Bishop was secretely married, saide, I maruell how these villaine Lu­therans haue giuen themselues to all the diuels to marrie, [Page 32] séeing they haue libertie otherwise at liking, to satisfie their lust at their owne pleasure, which he generally spake of all those that liued then of their holye mother Churche. For what was it, those wretches would not attempt, to perform (after their insaciat gluttonie) their beastlike & tompwood lecherie, hauing this priuiledge, Si non castè, tamen cautè.

A Frier in Paris, hauing part of his lewd life so knowne Apo. Ste. Fol. 509. as some common spéeches went of it, shamed not (in his ser­mon) to say, my Mistrisses of S. Martins I am so great a mote in your eye, that you prattle of me in euerie place, and for a matter that is lesse than nothing? Ah good Ladie, is it so straunge a case, for a holy Frier, to get his Hostis daugh­ter with childe? I am glad it was no worse, for I perceiue you would haue made it a more wonder, if she had gotten me with childe. Oh shamelesse sort of Sodomits, that would so abhominably abuse the place prepared to preache y ^e word of God in: but howe could you deliuer better matter from you, when there was no better substance in you.

As is further manifested by the example of a Priest of Apo. Ste. Fol. 545. Orleance, who hauing his concubine in a ielousie, called hir to a Tauerne, where after he had shewed hir the counte­nance of continuall friendship, in his good cheare: he dyd leade hir into a priuie Chamber, where laying hir vppon a bed, with a razer (that he brought for so wicked a purpose) he cut hir throte, for the which murther he was onely con­demned to perpetuall prison.

A searcher of Venice, séeing two Friers goe a borde a ship Fol. 254. with a fardell or small packe, he supposing it had bin some forbiddē Marchādize or else some goods vncustomed (which ought by their lawe to be forfeited) he woulde néedes sée, what it was they carried. But the Friers (contending with him) would not suffer him by no meanes to open it, vntyll by force he was faine to vndoe it himselfe, wherein he found the heades of two men newly cut off, which was sodainely shut vp, after they had enchaunted a worde or two into the searchers eares, notwithstanding the matter being after [Page 33] known it, made a questiō whether those wares were customable or no. Such was the secret Merchandize of these ho­ly fathers, & one of the chiefest cōmodities they gathered their treasure by. And further, to proue their tyrannous minds, y ^e best mean they had to hold al y ^e world in feare of thē) & at whose hands ther was no redresse, except it were sought at the Sea of Rome) I will tell you of an vnthank­ful and trayterous Prelate, excéeding any spoken of before.

The Duke of Limburge deceassing without heires, there Fo. 346. grewe great warres betwéen the Duke of Brabant and the Count of Gelderland, which of them should enioy the same, both claiming to be next in successiō to it. In y ^e end, fortune gaue the Duke of Brabant the victorie, who tooke the By­shoppe of Collen prisoner, (for that he had ayded the Count againste him) and deliuered hym in custodie to the Earle of Mounte in Henault, where he was kepte captiue seauen yeares, vntill he hadde yéelded to all suche conditions as the Duke demaunded of him. After the Bishoppe was deliuered, he requested the Count to accompanie hym to Tuits, a village ioyning to the Rhene, ouer against Collen, the which he granted to willingly. But as they passed the Bridge ouer the Rhene, the Counte mistrusting no falshoode in his holinesse, was taken by a certaine ambush of horssemen, that the Bishoppe had appointed there for that purpose. And to acquit the Counties curtesie, & good entertainment (whiche was euery waye as honorable as might be) he caused a Cage of yron to be made, and set it in the Sunne: And after, annointing the pore Prince o­uer with hony, forced him naked to enter into it, where hée long time endured the greatest languor and torment in the worlde, with swarmes of flies that dayly fed on hym, and in this sorte, with paine and famine ended his mise­rable life. Thys was the Bishoppes crueltie (a vowed Prelate to the Pope) ioyned with treason: excelling the tyranny of Bucris and Phalaris. Apo. Ste. Fo. 347.

An other Bishop of Collen named Henry, hauing Count [Page 34] Frederike his captiue, caused him to be brokē vpō a whéele, his legs, his thighes, his armes, his backe, and his necke, Apo. Ste. Fo. 347. and after laid him out to be a pray to Rauens.

There were two Canons in Collen, that vnder the cou­lour of great friendship, inuited a Lorde of the same Citie Fo. 436. to dinner (named Harman Grin) whom notwithstanding they mortally hated. And séeming in courtesie to shew him a lion (which they norished for the honor of their Bishop,) they trayterouslye trained him into the Cage, where the beast was, to be deuoured: But the gentleman séeing him­selfe brought into suche daunger, tooke courage vnto him: And wrapping his cloake aboute his lefte arme, thruste it into the Lyons throate, and with his right hand drew out his dagger, and killed him: whereby he saued himselfe, and the treason discouered.

In the time of the Emperour Otton the great, the Bi­shop of Magence séeing the famine that fell in the Coun­trie, Fo. 347. had such a compassion on the pore, as he assembled a great number of them into a Barne, (the poore soules ho­ping to haue had some reliefe at the hands of his holinesse in that time of penurie) which he caused to be set on fyre, & burned them al, affyrming, that they were but as Rattes and Mice in a common wealth, that deuoured the graine, & serued to no purpose. A charitable tyrannie, procéeding from a godly care of a Popishe deuotion, withoute anye cause or occasion of reuenge, for the miserable creatures deserued no harme of him.

I had almoste forgotten a certaine Iesuite in Viena in Apo. Ste. Fo. 317. Austrie, who made it no conscience to abuse a merchantes wife (whome he had vnder confession) before al the Saints of eyther kinde, not simply in the Church, but behinde the high aultar, and on good friday, who being taken with the manner (althoughe the faulte deserued as vile a death as might bée deuised) yet he was only enioyned for penance, to forbeare the saying of Masse thrée moneths: which their Legate (comming from Rome) thoughte it so sharpe a pu­nishment, [Page 35] as he presently absolued him of it. Whose ordi­narie Masses were after founde of as good sauour, tast, and digestion (to those that willingly deuoured thē) as if they had bin said of the moste maydenliest Priest in the world. So as, if one would search the euils of all sortes, commit­ted by these rauening rabble that fed on the Churche, hée shoulde finde them innumerable. But, as touching theyr punishments, it was seldome, or for the most part so light, that it séemed (indéede) but a mockerie. Where, on the other side, if any were only suspected to couet the true way to their saluation, fire and sworde was layde vpon them, with al the rigor and violence that might be.

Was it not a pitiful condition, that the pore members of Christe dwelled in, when they were as faine (and with as muche feare) to hide themselues in caues, corners, and other desolate places, for reading of the Bible and y ^e new Testament: as those that carryed counterfaite money, or committed a worser crime. For, whosoeuer was taken with Gods Booke (the onely Pilote to the Porte of oure redemption) eyther in his hande, or in his house, hée was sure to suffer death without al fauour (specially) if the ho­ly Ghost confirmed him in it. But such was the substance of his blessed worde, and the heauenly fruits of the same: as the more they persecuted, the more zealous professors, and faithful willing Martyres encreased by it. For, as our Sauiour Christe saith, they helde the keyes of knowledge from vs, neither entring themselues, nor would suffer o­thers to enter by them: By whych their willing and wil­ful blindenesse, bothe the one and the other fell into the bottomlesse Pitte of euerlasting darkenesse: yet in their Pulpittes (to féede the simplicitie of the tyme) they would giue vs part of the Texte, enlarged by their owne gloses. And therfore to approue their learning to their lynes, and theyr liues to the learning of those forefathers, vppon whose doctrine the Papistes depend, although I haue al­ready saide sufficient, to terrifie the stowtest, to reclaime [Page 36] the faintest, and to winne the weakest in conscience, if Gods grace haue not vtterly abandoned them: yet I wil Menot. Maleard. bring in place for their better credite, Oliuer Maleard a Frenchman, and Mychell Menot an Italian, two of the moste famous, renowmed, and learned preachers in their time. Whose Paraphrase (or rather sporting toyes) vppon sundrie textes of the Scripture, worde for worde (firste in Latine, and Englishe mingled, as my Author in Latine and Frenche hathe pelmelled) euen as I haue read it, so I simply here deliuer it.

As for example, we reade in the new Testament how Marie Magdalene acknowledged hir sin, washed Christes féete with teares, and dryed them with hir haire, &c. which they haue by their glosing discourse, framed into a mon­strous Mathew the 27. Chap. forme, as followeth.

Quoad primum Magdalena, erat domina terrena, de castro Magdalen, tam sapiens quod erat mirum audire loqui de sapientiaeius Ser. Me. Fol. 160. & prudentia: O ergo Magdalena, quo modo venistis ad tan­tum inconueniens, quod vocemini magna peccatrix? Et non sine causa: quod fuistis male consiliata. Data est tribus consiliarijs, qui eum posuerunt in tali statu: Scilicet primus, corporalis ele­gantia: secundus temporalis substancia: tertius fuit libertas ni­mia. Primum ergo, quid fuit causa huius mulieris perdicionis? Fuit elegantia corporalis. Videbatur pulchra, iuuenis, alta. Credo quod non erat nisi 15. aut 16. annorum quando incepit sic viuere, & 30. quando redijt ad bonitatē Dei. Quando pater fuit mortuus, plena erat sua voluntate. Martha soror nō audebat dicere ei ver­bum, & videbatur ei quod faciebat magnum honorem illis qui ve­niebant ad illam. Quicquid faciebat erat viuere at hir owne pleasure, and to make banquets, and good cheare Hodie in­uitare, &c. And within a little while after this poore foole abandoned erat in castro suo: The rumor ran throughe all Iurie, and the country of Galelie, Omnino bibendo & comeden­do, loquebatur de eo, & de eius vita. Martha soror timens Deum & amans honorem of hir house, ashamed of the shame of hir sister, videns quod omnes loquebantur of hir sister, and of hir [Page 37] myracles, venit ad eam dicens, O soror si pater adhuc viuer et qui tantum vos amabat, & audiret ista quae per orbem agitantur de vobis, truely he woulde thruste death into youre téethe. Facitis magnum dedecus progenij nostrae. And wherefore? quid vis dicere? Heu soror, non opus est vltra procedere, neque ampli­us manifestare. Scitis bene quid volo dicere, & vbi iacet punctus. Why do you trouble your selfe good Gentlewoman? In all the great diuels name, God be praysed, nonne estis magistra mea. Quis dedit mihi this valiant dame to controll my life. Vadatis precor ad domum vestram: scio quid habeo a­gerei ta bene sicut vna alia. Habeo sensum & intellectum to knowe howe to gouerne my selfe. This is a goodly mat­ter, that I shoulde care for none but my selfe. Martha ro­gabat eam vt iret ad sermonem, & consuleret aliquam hominem bonae vitae. Magdalena dixit Ianitori, non dimittas mihi intrare hoc castrum, this mad sister of mine, that brings nothyng hither, but brawling, chiding, and vnquietnesse, vbi non consueuit nisi cantus gaudij. And after hée maketh a greate narration of the meanes that Martha made to haue hir come to the Sermon of our Lorde: not telling hir what, or who he was, but vsing alluring spéeches, said he was a faire yong man, & of a goodly personage: O soror essetis val­de foelix, si possetis videre vnum hominem qui praedicat in Ierusa­lem. Est pulchrior omnibus quos vnquam vidistis, tam gratiosus, tam honestus, he hath so faire a countenance, so good a grace, & so goodly of body, you neuer saw his like. Credo firmiter ꝙsi videretis eum, essetis amorosa de eo, est in flore iuuētutis suae. And a little after, illa coepit pulchra indumenta sua, aquā rosaceā prolauando faciem suam: coepit speculum. Videbatur quod esset vnus pulcher Angelus. Nullus eam aspexisset, qui non fuisset amorosus de ea. Ipsa ante se misit mangones portantes manye Cushions of Crimoson veluet, vt disponerent sibi locum. Martha videbat haec omnia, fingens nihil videre: & sequebatur eam sicut si fuisset parua ancilla. Christus iam erat in media praedicatione, vel forte in secunda parte. After he sawe howe they dydde honoure and reuerence to Magdalena, euerye one wondering to sée [Page 38] hir come to a Sermon, which when Christe perceiued, he beganne to preache, that pompe, pride, and brauerie, was a moste detestable matter. Tunc (sayde he) ipse coepit dete­stare vitia, bragas, pompas, vanitates, & specialiter peccatum lu­xuriae: & contra has mulieres, &c. After this he reciteth how Magdalen was touched to the quicke with that she hearde in this Sermon, and then thoughte on nothing so muche as on Repentaunce: yet was in daunger to be turned by hir companions and customers, and to be broughte to hir firste course of life. venerunt (saide he) galandi amorosi & ru­stici, these Roysters qui dixerunt, Surgatis, surgatis: facitis nunc the hipocrite: vadamus ad domum. Quae dixit, O amici mei, rogo dimittatis me, non audistis quid dixit ille bonus praedica­tor de poenis inferni, vobis & mihi preparatas nisi aliud faciamus? And a little after habebat in suo armariolo aquam of swéete smels, quae vendebatur pondere auri. Coepit querere de loco in lo­cum, de platea in plateam, de domo in domum. Quis hodie dabit prandium praedicatori? Dictum est ei quod in domo Simonis. And then he setteth forth the Oration shée made before shée kis­sed Christes féete, & in the washing of thē with hir teares, and in the ende, howe she lay vnder the table like a dog: and that our Lord saide: O Mary, I praye thée rise: And that she answered, I wil neuer remoue from this place, vntil thou haste giuen me remission for al my sinnes, and your holy blessing. And then he saide, my loue, rise, thy sinnes are forgyuen thée, thy fayth hathe saued thée. And in the ende, he concluded howe Martha presented Magda­lena to the Virgine Mary: before whome shée fell on hir knées, and saide, good Madam pardon me if it please you, that I may speake to you, I haue bin of an euil life, and a great sinner, but now by the grace of God I will doe no more so. Your son hath this day forgiuen me: Lord, how happy are you to haue such a son. Here you may sée how this gentle preacher hath disciphered this history, making of the Scriptures a shippemans hose, or a tale of Robin Hood.

[Page 39] But now let vs looke into the substance of Maleard, who hath with no lesse grauitie & wisdome paraphrased vppon the historie of the forlorne son in the 15. chapter of S. Luke than our Menot hathe done afore: which text he hathe en­riched with al sortes of circumstances forged of pleasure, & couched with terms, rather for laughter, thā for educatiō, as foloweth.

Pater quidam habebat duos filios, quorum iunior se osten­dit Ser. Me. Fol. 119. magis fatuum, quia inconstans fuit. This was a childe of his owne pleasure, light headed, a minion, and a roysting gallant. Ipse erat vnus puer, plenus suo velle, versatilis &c. qui quando venit ad cognoscendum seipsum, suā fortitudinem, suam iuuentutem, suam pulchritudinem, & quod sanguis ascendit frontem, his strength, his youth, his beautie, and that the bloude beganne to rise in his forehead, venit ad patrem reso­lutus sicut Papa, & dixit ei, Pater da mihi, &c. Pater sumus tan­tùm duo filij: ego non sumbastardus: & sic, quando placeret deo, to doe so muche for your children, to take you oute of thys worlde, non exhaeredaretis me, sed haberem partem meam sicut frater meus. Scio consuetudines & leges patriae, quodte viuente nullum ius habeo in bonis vestris: tamen sum filius vester, & me amatis rogo detis, &c. When this foolishe childe, and euill counselled habuit suam partem de haereditate, non erat quaestio de portando eam secum, ideo statim he sent for a Broker, prised it, and solde it, & ponit the sale in sua bursa. Quando vidit tot pecias argenti simul, valde gauisus est, & dixit ad se, ho, non ma­nebitis sic semper, Incipit se respicere. Et quomodo? vos estis de tam bono domo, & est aparelled like a pore knaue? Super hoc habebitur prouisio. Mittit ad querendum Drapers, Embrothe­rers, Mercers, and brauely apparelled hymselfe from the head to the foote. Quando vidit, emit sibi pulchras caligas of Scarlet, faire drawne forthe with Satten, a fine shirte gallauntlye gathered at the collar, and a minion dub­let of Veluet wyth hys Ierkin of Florence silke, and hys haire paynted. Et quando sensit this Damaske to rat­tle aboute hys shoulders, and to flée vppon hys backe, [Page 40] vt sensit hunc damascum volātem supra dorsum, haec secum dixit, Oportetne mihi aliquid? non &c. Doe I lacke any thing? no, thou haste al thy feathers. And after he sheweth howe hée saide hée muste goe sée the worlde, and that those, who ne­uer were out of the armes of their mothers, were no bet­ter than dolts and patches. And to be briefe, he that hathe not frequented strange countries, nihil vidit. My father hath layde the raines of my bridle on my necke, pater me­us laxauit habenam supra collum. And then he reciteth howe as he trauelled by the way, he made banquets and good cheare to euerie man, and that he kepte a rounde Table, hauing euery day in his Innes, players, Iuglers, & Tom­blers. And in the ende, Postquam nihil amplius erat fricādū, when there was no more to spend: mittitur pulchra vestis domini bragātis, caligae, bombicinium: quis (que)secum ferebat peciā of oure young Maisters pride, of hose and dublets euerye one carryed away his parte: ita quod in breui tempore, oure gallant was made like a gatherer of Aples, and apparel­led as a burner of houses, or a chimney swéeper: For hée was left as naked as my naile, and as nigh worne to the skinne as a worme, hauing hardely a shyrte to couer hys poore carcasse with, whych was as bright as a gammon of Bacon, or like a Lincke new put out, he had so wisely go­uerned and vsed his prosperitie by hys pride, pompe, and glorie. And further, to proue his wit, as one that was ne­uer without matter to please his audience: he courseth and discourseth a gallant glose on the euangelist of S. Mathew Chap. 14. where the Apostle sayth he fed 5000. persons, &c. the same Maliard paraphrasing vpō it, affirmeth, that where y ^e text doth testifie of 5000. men besides women & childrē: it must néeds folow, that the number was much greater. And first he compareth it to the dinner of a Lymosin, who commonly do eat much, but drink little. Then he maketh a question, where Christ learned to prepare his dinner: adding, that he supposed he had not frequented the Banquettes of Pa­ris, where they do not forget to drincke with theyr meate. [Page 41] And after he argueth whether it were not in Lent, bycause euerie one did eate as much fishe as he would: and where Christ did shewe his first myracle in a marriage to prouide wine and no bread, so nowe he prepared bread and no wine: wherein he commendeth the wisedome and good husbandry of Christ, for that he kept a rounde table for all commers, it is not mentioned that the Virgin Marie was there, for I beléeue (sayde he) if she had bin present, she would haue re­membred him as she did at the marriage, saying, they haue no wine, & séeing they féed with so good a stomacke, it is pi­tie they lacke drinke to moysten their meate with: and true­ly it is not for your reputation, credite, nor honor, to call such a companie togither and giue them no wyne: but (said he) if any would make question why our Sauiour prouided not drinke, aswell as meate, I woulde be his Atturney, and answere: Propter aquarum aproximationem, miraculi maiorem declarationem, Sacramenti Eucharistiae praefiguratio: that is, For that the water being at hand, he woulde the better declare the myracle, prefiguring the Sacrament of the Eucharist: so it is written, they were by the Sea of Galile, & sat vpon faire and swéete grasse: so as when they had eaten their fil, they might goe drinke as much as they list. I could haue enlar­ged this place if I had followed y ^e grosse course of Maliard, but this is more than sufficient, to shew how they vsed both abrupfly and absurdlye to iest with the sacred Scriptures, prophaning them at their doltishe pleasures. And further Barrelet. Fol. 367. Barrelet affirmed, that rather than Christ shoulde not haue bin crucified, Marie his mother would haue crucified him with hir owne handes, for (said he) there was no lesse chari­tie in hir, than there was in Abraham, who was readie and prepared to kill his onely sonne. And bycause it may séeme incredible that any woulde be so lewde to deliuer in their Sermons so blasphemous spéeches, I wil set it downe word for worde as he himselfe did both preache it and write it. Quia temporepassionis, quanuis suae dolores essent intensi, videndo Serm. fol. 115. Colos. 2. filium afligi, tamen volebat filium suum mori prohumanae genera­tionis [Page 42] salute Et vt dicit Archiepiscopus, Si alius modus non fuisset ipsamet filium proprium occidisset. Quia non minor erat charita [...] M [...]t affir­meth the same fol. 169. Colos. 3. Fo. 367. sua, quam Abrahae qui filium suum erat paratus occidere.

And the same Preacher sheweth how the Apostles came to Marie, saying, ho, thy sonne did promise to send the holye Ghost among vs, & now it is tenne dayes since he ascended, & we heare nothing of him. To whom she answered, doubt not but this day he will send him, &c. And these are his owne words, Vnde isto maneiad Maria veniunt, dicentes, Heu filius tu­us nobis promisit mittere spiritum Sanctum, hodie sunt decem dies quod ascendit, & adhuc spiritum Sanctum non misit. Et virgo, non dubitetis quod hodie omnino mi [...]tet, nec ante mittere debuit. Et ra­tion, Quando Deus traxit populum de captiuitate Aegipti, quinqua­gesimo die descendit informa ignis in monte Sinn, dando legem, fuit figura quod quinquagesimo die resurrectionis suae, nos libera­ret & viuificaret. Vnde ponamus nos in oratione. Petrus cum alijs se ad vnam partem posuit: Lazarus cum. 72. ad aliam, & Mag­dalena cum alijs mulieribus ad aliam, & virgo Maria in medio. In caelesti palatio facta est dissentio inter Patrem & spiritum San­ctum. Serm. Bar. Fo. 178. Colos. 1. Apo. Ste. Fol. 368. O Pater (inquit Filius) promisi Apostolis m [...]is paracletū & consolatorem, tempus aduenit vt promissionem attendā. Cui Pater, sum contentus, indica spiritui Sancto. Cui spiritus Sanctus, Dic mi­hi quomodote tractauere. Cui filius vide me per charitem, ostendit ei lat us & manus & p [...]des perforatos. Heu mihi. Sed vadam in aliā effigiem, quod non and [...] bunt me tangere. Qui discendit cum magno strepitu. Factus est de c [...]lo sonus tanquam aduenientis, &c.

I must desire the patient reader, to heare a little further of this Preachers blasphemie, more incredible than y ^e rest, wherein he doth prophane the principallest mysterie of our Christian religion. And is, Quamuis ab aeterno Deus praedesti­nauerit, Serm. Bar. Fo. 229. Colos. 4. &c. Although (saith he) that God of his eternall po­wer, did at y ^e first predestinate y ^e Incarnation of his Sonne, & the saluation of mankind, yet he would (notwithstanding) that y ^e same should be sought at his hands, by the prayers of vs, & of other the holy Patriarkes, so as the holy fathers w ^t teares desired y ^e day, which is manifestly shewed vs in the [Page 43] scriptures, as by Adam, Eno, Enoch, Mathusalem, Lamech, & Noe (who liued euery one of them so long time) & yet could [...] not obtaine that they so much looked for, and therefore desi­ring to haue an absolute resolutiō, they sent their Embassa­dors, as first Esai, who saith in his. 16. Chapter Lorde sende downe the Lamb y ^t shall gouerne the world, (for he writeth Agnum dominatorem terrae) & in his. 45. Chap. you heauens send downe your deaw vpon vs, &c. And the. 4. Chapter, O that thou wouldest breake the heauens and come downe. And after the Prophetes they sent Moyses, Exod. 4. Chap. Obsecro Domine mittere quem missurus es. I pray thee (O Lord) send him whō thou wilt send, which is as much to saye (ac­cording to his glose) thou hast sent me before, but this is but for a particular deliuerance, send nowe I pray thée for a ge­nerall deliuerance. Then the kings sent Dauid, who spake thus, Lord shew vnto vs thy mercy, and graunt vs thy sal­uation. Aaron came after all these and was sente by the Priestes, who saide, O Lorde bow downe the heauens and descend among vs. And last of all came the Churche, which said, lift vp thy puisance & might, and come (O Lord) lift vp thy selfe. And when these Patriarkes coulde not obtaine Apo. Ste. Fol. 369. their requests, they sent women to be petitioners for them. The first was Madam Eue, who vsed these speeches: Thou hast condemned vs for our sinne, but thou (O Lorde) hast no respect there vnto, deliuer me out of this darke and obscure prison: to whom God answered, Eue thou hast sinned, and therfore not worthy of my Sonne. The second was Madam Sara, who said, O Lord helpe vs: to whom God answered, thou art not worthye, for thou wast harde of beliefe, tou­ching thy Sonne Isaak. The thirde was Madam Rebecca: to whome God sayd, thou she wedst thy selfe partiall be­twéene Iacob and Esau. The fourth was Madam Iudith: to whome God answered, thou wast a murtherer. The fifth Madam Hester: to whome he sayde thou diddest (by thy glo­rie) loue vanitie too much, when thou so sumptiously appa­relledst thy selfe to please Assuerus.

[Page 44] In the end, they sent a waiting maide of y ^e age of fourtéen Yeeres, whose countenance was lowly and verie shamefast, who vpon hir knées saide, let my welbeloued come into his garden, and eate of the fruite of the Orchard: The garden, was the wombe of the Virgin. The sonne hearing these wordes, sayde to his Father, Father I haue loued this Virgin from my youthe, and haue hitherto searched the meanes to haue hir for my Spouse. At the which instant, God called Gabriell, and sayd, goe thy wayes with spéede to Nazareth to Marie, and carrie hir this present and these let­ters from me: and tell hir that I haue chosen hir for my Spouse. And the Sonne sayd, commende me to hir, and tell hir from mée, that I haue chosen hir for my mother, and that I will take fleshe of hir entrailes, & I wil be hir sonne, and delyuer hir these letters. After these two the holye Ghost spake: I will dwell in hir, and shée shall be my tem­ple: and giue hir these letters from mée. Gabriell beyng come to hir, sayde: Aue gratia plena, &c. Shée hearing the Ser. Bar. Apo. Ste Fo. 370. Angel, was greatly troubled, and hauing thrée damsels in hir companie, Prudence, Virginitie, and Humilitie, she adres­sed hir first to Prudence to haue hir councell: saying, my swéet companion, shew me your opinion, what I were best to doe: Prudence answered, Marie I consider what is writ­ten in the. 29. Chap. of Eccle. that light beléeuing argueth an vnconstant and w [...]ering heart. Marie thinking in hir selfe what this salut [...]n should meane, remembred the. 32. Chap of Eccle. Audi tacens, & pro reuerentia accedit tibi bono gratia, Hearken in silence, and for thy reuerence great good grace shall come vnto thee. The Angell séeing hir so trou­bled, sayd vnto hir, Marie feare not, but shewe me the cause of your vnquiet, and I will satisfie you. Marie asked coun­sell of hir second damsell, Virginitie, who willed hir to know of the Angell, the meane howe this childe shoulde be concei­ued, for if he saye, it muste bée by the séede of man, beate him out of the dores with a cudgell, ô Iunenculae quando ves­tri amatores nominant impudica, &c. Howe maye this bée, [Page 45] séeyng I neuer knewe man? The Angell answered, the holy Ghost shall come vppon thée, &c. And after he affyr­meth there grewe an argument or disputation betwéene the Father, the Sonne, and the Holy Ghost, who shoulde performe this redemption of mankinde: and in the ende, it was concluded, that it shoulde be the Son, and the rea­son why, &c.

If I maye in pardon praye the gentle Reader to haue so muche patience to peruse this one parte more of theyr blasphemy: I wil entreate him to reade thys discourse of the same Preacher, for that it shal appeare, howe much it is like to himselfe, and to all those, that dwel in the obe­dience of the Churche of Rome: whereby he shall manifest­ly perceiue, how one error (or rather wylfull blasphemie) draweth on an other. Where he saieth, Altercatio facta est Ser. Ber. Fol. 371. quis debebatire ad matrem nuntiare hanc resurrectione. Adam di­xit mihi incumbit, &c. The effecte and circumstance wher­of is thus. It was in controuersie and contention, who shoulde goe to shew this resurrection to Mary: Adam said, this charge belongeth vnto me: for, as I was the firste cause of euill, so nowe I woulde be a messenger to the con­trarie: to whome Christe aunswered, no, you shal not go, for it may be you wil stay by the way to eate Aples. Abell saide it belonged to him, no aunswered Christe, for thou mayest by chaunce méete with Caine, who will kill thée. Noe likewise presented himself to the seruice, saying that that honor was due to him: to whome Christe answered, thou shalt not go, bicause thou louest to drinke ouer much. Iohn Baptist requested the credite of that message: No truely sayde Christe, thy apparell is too base, for thy robe is only of skinnes, and Herode may happe to knowe thée againe. The Thiefe desired to haue that office: Christe re­fused him, saying, thy legges he broken. So, in the ende, there was sent an Aungel, who did sing: Regina coelt laetare, alleluia, resurrexit sicut dixit: alleluya. And immediatelye Christe came with al his Saints to the Virgin Mary, &c.

[Page 46] There are many more blasphemous matters that were published and preached by these great Doctours: whose dā ­nable errors (like vnto Mahomets Alcaron among the Turks) had that credite then in the worlde, as it was death to reproue them or controll them. And as these Sorbonists by theyr Romish authority, would scan the Scriptures to their own lyking, Metamorphosing y ^e texts into what sense or forme best pleased them, holding the world in that igno­raunce, as they beléeued all they sayde to be the onely true & vndoubted word of God: euen so the common sort, chosing y ^e Pulpit as a place more to sport in, than to profit the people, would fil vp time with all the vanities that might be.

As a Preacher in the towne of Iper in Flaunders (named Bonauenture) shamed not to saye in hys Sermon, that after Apo. Ste Fol. 441. Christ grew to some strength, Ioseph beganne to teach him hys occupation. And one day among others, he sette him to, saw a péece of Tymber, but Christ not regarding the mark he should haue sawed it by, he cutte it too short: whereat Io­seph was very angry and would haue beaten him, if he had not hastily taken vp the one ende, and crauing hys Fathers helpe to holde the other, drew it out to the same length that Ioseph woulde haue it, whiche the Monke iustifyed to bée true: and that he had read it in the Euangeliste of Sainte Anne.

Also a Frier (named Bardotte) preached at Burdeaux, the reason why God gaue to the good Théefe Paradice, and y ^e Fol. 441. cause that he went straight thyther, without first passing to Purgatorie, for (sayde he) I haue red in a certayn Euange­list, that when Christ was carryed to Egypt (with his mo­ther by Ioseph) the same Théefe would not suffer his com­panions to robbe Christ, nor any that was with him: And that he sayde to Christe remember this good turne I haue done thée: which was then promised him, and performed, when they met both at one execution.

Whereby you may sée, that these holye Fathers coulde neuer lack good matter, hauing so many and so sundry sorts [Page 47] of Euangelistes, as they listed themselues, taking out of some, pleasant substance to make their Auditours merry: and out of others; some miraculous matter to bewitch thē with wonders: hauing withall, a readie resolution for anye obiection shoulde be made vnto them. Yet such whose sim­plicity deliuered the best Iewels they founde in the Trea­sure house of theyr iudgemēt, were more to be borne with in respect of theyr ignorāce, than the cūning knauerie of those, who not alone in words, but by shameles gesture and déeds prepared thēselues of purpose to abuse both place & cōpany.

As a Fryer in Bruxels layde a wager to make one halfe of his Auditours to wéepe, the other to laugh: For the whi­che Apo. Ste Fo. 480. purpose, he put on a garment that was very shorte be­hinde (and without anye bréeches) he entred the Pulpit vp­on a good Friday: where in the middest of the Churche, he did so vehementlye set forthe the passion of Christ, that the whole assistaunce were in teares at the pitiful remembrāce of it. Which our fryer séeing, y ^e more to aggrauate the mat­ter, layde hys hands a crosse, and séeming to shew a great deuotion, he bowed his heade so lowe, and lifted hys tayle so hye, as he discouered his backeside, prouoking al that saw it to laughter: a shamelesse parte to winne a drunken wa­ger, and a great blasphemie to Gods glorie.

A Monke of Mantua, named Cossolaro: preaching the pas­sion; Fol. 355. and séeing his audience to shed aboundance of teares, at his pitiful exclamations vppon the cruel death our saui­our endured (after he had a whyle made a maygame of it) he sayde, holde your peace good people, wéepe no more, per­aduenture it was not true: affirming the blasphemie of Pope Leo the tenth mentioned of afore.

One Roullie a Monkepreached at Orlians, who in his ser­mon Ap. Ste Fo. 485. (among other bad matter) said to his audience, he wold shew them a Cuckold: and sodainely stouping into the Pul­pit, as though he would take vp something, séemed at his ri­sing to cast a stone among them, whereat they all doucked down with their heads. Oh fayde our deuoute Preacher. [Page 48] I thought there hadde bin but one Cuckolde among you, where nowe I sée you be all of one feather.

A Iesuite (by Baden in Germanie) preaching in a med­dow, after he had mightily exclaimed againste the Luthe­ranes, Fol. 485. he saide to his Auditors, that he greatly doubted, leaste some of them were infected with that diuelishe do­ctrine, and therefore desyred them, that as manye, bothe men and women, as were not touched with that hatefull heresie, but were indéede good Catholikes, euerye one to take a blade of grasse in their mouths, for the loue and ho­nor they bare to their mother holy Churche. Which when they had with gret deuotion done, he said in a loud laugh­ter: Since I was firste borne I neuer saw so many beasts pasture at one time togither. When they were in a chafe, or séemed to be impatient against their parishioners, they woulde not let to remember the Diuell vnto them: As witnesseth one Fouet sometime Vicar of Villers in Tarte­nois, who saide in his sermon: Séeing you haue no more Fol. 485. regarde to the amendment of your liues, the Diuel take you all, and me after you. And also an other preaching to his Parishioners, saide: You make no accompte of that I teache you, but rather growe daylye worse and worse: Fol. 485. yet notwithstanding, I haue cure of youre soules, which I woulde the Diuel had charge of, so I were ridde of you.

And séeing I haue touched the charge that Curates haue of their Patishioners soules: I shoulde doe double wrong to forget one Fōtanus that sometimes was Vicar of Peer­rebuffiere, in high Lymosine. For this good fellowe, the bet­ter to exhorte those of his eure to liue well (among other graue sentences) said: When the latter day of Iudgement Fo. 485. is come, God (I knowe) wil haue me to make accompte for you, and wil cal me, Vicar of Peerrebuffiere, what haite thou done with thy shéepe? but I wil stande mute, and an­swere nothing: And this I am sure he will say [...] to mée thrée seuerall times, and I not a worde, yet in the ende I knowe what I wil answere, Beasts thou didst giue them [Page 49] me, and beastes I restore them againe: which simple Histo­rie hath not so good a grace in my translation, as it hath in the proper Lymosin language, wherein it is more liuely and more aptly couched than in English, and therfore I wil de­liuer it you in his own nature: Quan se vendro louiour deu iu­gamen, Diou me demandero que you ly rendo compte de vou autre: & me apelero, chapello de Peyrebuffiero, en qual eytat son ta olia? Et you ni mot. Et eu ma pelaro enquero, & diro, chapelo de Peyre­buffiero, en qual eytat sonta olio: Et you ni mot. Et eu ma pelero en­quero eu mediro chapelode Peyrebuffiero en qual eytat son ta olio? Iuque a tre viage. Et you lyreypondray, Seigne, beytia la ma beyla­aa, et beytia late rendi.

A Monke at Bloyse named Bastianus preaching on Alhal­londay Fo. 486. somewhat late, and in an obscure place, caused hys Nouice (standing behinde him) to lift vp the skul of a deade man (vppon a staffe) with a little lighte in it, to the end to make his Auditours haue the greater feare of death: which put sundry women in suche a fryght, as some there presente (being with child) fel in stil trauel, at the feareful sight of it.

A Frier named by Erasmus Robertus Liciensis hauing a louer allowed him, by the dispensation of Saint Frauncis, Fo. 481. who saide vnto him, that she liked hys person, and all the rest wel, sauing his habite. What habit woulde you haue me weare (sayde he) to performe youre whole liking to­wards me? she answered, the apparell of a souldiour: Then fayle not (quoth he) to be at my Sermon to morrowe, & you shall sée, how I will please you. The next day, he entred in­to the Pulpit with a Rapier, and all other furniture (belon­ging to a soldiour) vnder his long robe: where he began hys argument, to perswade al Princes to make wars vpon the Sarasens, and Turkes and vpon all others, that were enimies to y ^e Christian religion: affirming, that it was great pitie, y ^e no person would aduaunce himselfe, to be a chiefe of so ho­norable an enterprise. But if it rest (sayd he) only on y ^e, be­hold how ready I am to shake off this garmēt of S. Francis, and to serue either for a Captain, or for a simple souldiour. [Page 50] and therewithal let fal his Friers habit from of his shoul­ders, and remayned preaching halfe an houre after, in the braue apparell of a Captayne. The cause being asked him (of certaine Cardinals his friendes) why he vsed the newe fashion of Preaching? he told them the truth, as you haue hearde afore, and it passed for a pleasaunt payment among them.

This Liciensis preaching before the Pope, and all hys Court of Cardinals, considering their pomp and pride, and Fo. 482. specially how they did honour the Pope: he sayd nothing in the Pulpit, but fie Saint Peter and fie S. Paule, and when he had oft recited those words, spitting first on the one side, thē on the other (as those commonly do that haue some grief at theyr hartes) he sodainely departed the Pulpit, leauing his Auditours wonderfully astonyed: wherefore some thought, he had not bin wel in his wits, & other some imagined, he was not sounde of Religion: so as they ment to cōmit him. But one Cardinal amōg the rest, that knew partly his hu­mor: caused hym to be called before the Pope, who com­maunded him to render some reason for that he had done, & to shew what he ment by his horrible blasphemy: he answe­red, that (in truth) he was determined to entreat of another matter: but considering (saide he) that you possesse all the pleasures of this world at will, and that there is no state or magnificencie comparable to yours, and waying againe with what pouertie, pain, and miserie, the Apostles liued: I thought (with my selfe) that eyther they were great fooles, to choose so sharpe a life, to goe to heauen, or that you were in the hye way to Hell: and as for you that holde and haue the keyes of heauen in your hands, I cannot by any opini­on, but approue your wisdomes, commend your iudgemēts, and thinke wel of you: marry as touching the Apostles, I will neuer estéeme them of any value, but disdain them for the greatest sots in the world, who might with the like de­licate course of life, come to heauen as you do, and yet wold choose so troublesome, so strayght, and so paineful a way vn­to Fol. 579. [Page 51] it, approuing the sayings of a Paynter in Rome, who had made the Images of Saint Peter and S. Paule, and a Cardi­nal comming into the working house, foūd fault that he had painted them with too hie a colour, for their faces (saide hée) were too red, to whom the Painter aunswered: this rednesse cōmes of shame, for they blushe to sée the proude state and traynes that you haue, in respect of the low and poore coun­tenaunce they carryed.

A Monke beginning his sermon with these words By the Ap. Ste. Fol. 487. bloud, by the fleshe, & by the death of God, we are all rede­med & saued, did at (the first) wonderfully amaze his Audi­tors, for they supposed he had vsed them for horrible othes, considering the pause or stay he made betwéene euery word. Whiche bringeth likewise to memory, the knauerie of cer­taine Chanons in Bloyse, who Christened two children of one Iohn Gods (the one a son the other a daughter) naming the son Death, and the daughter Vertue. This hath a kynde of blasphemy in it, which is hateful to the hearer, and dam­nable to the speaker, considering with what grace they de­liuer it. But a Iesuite (named Hoghsteen) at Hornburge in Apo. Ste Fo. 487. Germanie, vsed his sermon in playner termes who made it no conscience to sweare by God, in despight of the Prote­stantes: affirming that he woulde proue, how they were worse than y ^e Diuel. For (sayd. he) if I méete with y ^e Diuel, & blesse my selfe but w ^c the signe of a Crosse, he wil straight flye from me: But if I make the signe of a Crosse to a Pro­testāt, by God he wil fly vpon me, & be redy to strangle me.

Another Iesuite being sore hurt (by chāce) w ^t the stroke of Fol. [...]. a horse: a friend of his, y ^t knew his blaspheming humor, sayd to him: this wil make you leaue your swearing? who answe­red, By the bodye of God I wil take héed hereafter howe I sweare.

Not vnlyke to the Abbot whō Barelet (the preacher afore spoken off) friendly admonished, saying: reuerēt father ma­ny Fo. 734. haue shewed me, y ^t you can not talke wythout an othe or remembring the Diuell: who presentlye aunsweared, what [Page 52] is he in the Diuels name that sayth so of me? By the bodye of Christ it is not true.

A Monke of Bloise in a greate rage wished the bloudye flixe to the Asse that bare Christ into Ierusalem. Fo. 263.

And another Religious abused by his harlot, cursed the Woulfe, and one hearing hym, asked wherein the Woulfe Fo. 264. had offended him, for that (saide he) he deuoured not Christ when he was a lamve. Certaine Iewes being in Rome and hearing the Cardinals blaspheme Christ so bitterly, saide, they maruelled how they could beléeue, that he dyed for thē, & vse such outragious spéeches against him, euen as though they would spit in the face of God.

As what Diuel coulde deliuer more damnable spéeches, than was vttered by a Priest there (his Concubine putting Apo. Ste. Fo. 354. him in a choller) Al dispetto di quel can che pendeua nella Cro­ce: In dispight of the dog that hanged on the crosse. Oh hor­rible and hateful words, spoken by the Diuel in the shape of a Priest: and in that place, where commonly no better fruite coulde growe. As Paule the thirde going on his so­lemne Procession, in the honor of theyr Corpus Christi daye, sayde in a rage (for that his company martched very slowe afore him) if they did not make more hast, he woulde denye Christ and all that come of hym.

And the same Paule being told (in open consistorie) that he could not with a safe conscience giue to his kindred Par­ma Fo. 462. and Placentia, aunsweared: if Paule the Apostle did bear suche affection to those of hys nation (whom he called bre­thren) that he desired to be seperated from Christe, to the ende they might be saued: why shoulde not I with like af­fection to my sonnes and coosins, offer my selfe to damnati­on, to the end to make them greate and honorable persona­ges? Which kinde of blasphemie is not alone to be attribu­ted to his holynesse, but to the whole genealogie of those tri­ple crowned tyraunts, and to all others of theyr marke, if we may iudge their hartes by theyr actes.

[Page 53] The same Pope Paule (to ratifie the ruine of his Soule) Fo. 582. sent worde to Charles the fift (who was not onely a fauou­rer, but also a protector of their superstitiō) that if he would not render Plesantia, he woulde excommunicate him: To whom the Emperour answeared, that he would thunder; and lighten as loude, and as fast with his Cannons, as the Pope should thunder and lighten with his terrible excom­munications: and then (said he) let those two trie who shall carrie the cause away.

By these threatning meanes they wonderfully terrified the world: for the very breath of those Romishe [...]eastes, did so Eclipse the bright beames of the truth, as it became as dimme and darke as their dreames. And if any (at any time in singlenesse of he art) did arme himselfe with Gods worde to defend his honour and glory, they would encounter them with cursing, excommunication, fire, famine; and sworde, and with all the tormentes of Phalaris, Bucyris, and Nero, being stil in the combat both iudge & partie▪ And truly they had great reason, to kéepe this mightie stull, for they foared (as furious as they were) that if this little lyght of y ^e Gos­pell shoulde haue any way in the world, it woulde in small time after quench the grosse fire of their greasie k [...]tchen.

And now séeing I haue presumed so farre on the eurious follie, or foolish curiositio of bad Preachers, I will (in par­don) followe the traine, and deliuer you as an any as I can remember.

One to whom God (by the witnesse of himselfe) had she­wed Fol. 487. sundry speciall graces, deliuered these spéeches in hys Sermon of his owne commendations, I can not tell howe it happeneth (said he) that others of great countenance and fame, are not so wel learned, nor can not preach so profoūd­ly or gallantly as I doe: some say they lacke the knowledge I haue, and that they are nothing so wise, which I beléeue to be true. For al you can witnesse, that it is not yet a yéere, since I had neither iudgement, nor vnderstanding, and now you sée me preach to the pleasing of you all. In which [Page 54] Sermōn he proued his chastitie, by y ^e witnesse of his sister. For (said be) it is reported that I abuse my continence with some in my house, beholde my sister (pointing to hir with his finger) who must nédes knowe it, if it were so, for I passe euerie nyght throughe hir Chamber to myne: and therefore let hir speake hir woorst and openly if this be not true. This same Doctor, that in one yeere was become Fo. 488. so wyse, receyued a certayne scedule or little scroll, from the Byshoppe of Paris and the Officiall, wherein was written the names of sundry y ^t he shoulde excommunicate, which (by chance) he let fall into a little hole of hys Pulpit, for remedie whereof he helped himselfe with this pestilent practize, as one y ^e with the losse of the Paper, had lykewise lost the remembrance of their names whom he shoulde ex­communicate. And therefore sayde, I excommunicate all those, that are within that hole: and yet in the ende (re­membryng himselfe better of the matter) he excepted the Byshoppe, and the Officiall, who had subscribed to the same. This gallant, who gloried not a little in his rotten Fol. 489. lerning before it was ripe (being but of one yeres growth) approued in his Sermon Purgatorie, by the example of of his Male horse, confoundyng all those that woulde saye the contrarie: although sundrie others had (by great studie and trauell) collected manie authors, out of great and small Doctors, and euen from the most famous Saint Patricke himselfe, and by the witnesse of sundry soules that returned from thence, and yet the world would scant beléeue it. This holy, profounde, and learned Preacher, speaking of the Lu­therans, that sought to shut vp all mens mouthes, by deny­ing of Purgatorie, said, I will deliuer a true testimonie of it, y ^t the proudest of them all shall not reproue. You knowe (quoth he) that I am sonne to olde Maister Steuen, and that we haue a fayre place by y ^e bridge of Saint Antonie, where riding one Euening somewhat late, my Male horse stayed contrarie to his custome, and played puffe, puffe: I com­maunded my man to spurre him: he answeared so I doe sir, [Page 55] but surely he séeth somewhat more than I doe: and then I remembred my mothers reporte, howe she had shewed me that there had bene séene at sundrie times, the appearance of some spirit, therefore I sayd my Pater noster and my Aue Maria, but my horse fearefully treading, would not go for­ward, playing still puffe, puffe: and then I added to my de­uotion, De profundis, the vertue whereof did leade my horse a little further, and when the thirde time he vsed his puffe puffe, I had no sooner sayde, Auete omnes Animae, & requiem aeternam, but he went praunsing for the without any staye. And those wretches that will not haue vs praye for the deade, and saye there is no Purgatorie, let them goe to my Male horse, and he shall learne them their lesson.

I would not that this worshipfull father shoulde haue all Apo. Ste. Fol. 490. the honor of these subtilties, for a Iacobin (named Diuolaye) vsed the lyke comparison, wherby he proued one point, that all the foregone Doctors coulde not fynde the lyke Latine for. These shamelesse Lutherans (sayde he) wyll not be­léeue that the bodye and bloud of Christ is in the Sacra­ment of the Aulter, vnlesse they sée it: when you haue a Pa­stie of Venison, doe you not saye, it is a Pastie of suche a thing, and yet sée not what is in it: here you haue (quoth he) you grosse beastes, a manyfest example to proue your wilfull errour.

A Moncke in Paris (named Burdelet) preaching on good Apo. Ste. Fol. 490. Frydaye at the Parishe Churche of Sainte Germins, shewed howe Christ béeyng on the Crosse, and séeyng hys mother wéepe so bitterlye, sayde to Saint Iohn, my good Nephew and gentle Cousin, I commende this poore Gen­tle woman my mother vnto you: and laying his hand vpon his breast, he dyd sweare by the faith of a Gentleman, that he woulde be thankefull for it. And so procéedyng to the texte, spake in the commendation of Ioseph of Arama­thia, howe hée came to take downe the bodye of Christ, saying, This was not a man of meane parentage, nor a [Page 56] base companion, but a Councellor at the lawe, one of much honor and credite apparelled in a long gowne, & mounted on a Moyle, all couered with blacke from the eare to the hoofe.

Maister Adrian Begwin (a Curate of Saint Germins in Apo. Ste. Fol. 497. Noyon) saide to his Parishoners in a Sermon, my friendes you must haue patience, and beare with my briefe braw­ling at this time, for I am bid to dinner to a fat Pigge, but truely if I had tarried, I would haue played the madde man among you, and haue taught you, Ronge, rage en rage with al the rigge r [...]gges of round Robin, which bycause it hath a pleasant Emphasis in the French, I leaue it in the proper termes as I founde it.

A Prior of the Iacobins in Bloyse, preaching one daye in Apo. Ste. Fol. 492. his Couent, and taking his Theame against the cauillati­ons of the Lutherans, sayd, they would haue vs ioyne with them to the word of God: by my faith I sweare to you all, I knowe not what they meane by it, but I knowe wel that to mingle a little water to a good deale of Wyne, is a good coniunction: wherat his audience began so hartily to laugh, that our fatherly Fryer was fayne to say, you haue laughed ynough: and then after he had taken a new breath, he conti­nued his purpose, saying, I remember that this great King Francis being in his good Cittie of Roane, a Gentleman of his complayned, that there were two clockes in the towne of such discord, that when the one would strike. 8. the other would strike. 9. which came by the faulte of those that kept them. And therefore the King commaunded that the clocke kéepers should be brought to drinke togither, which done, their clockes accorded, and their charge went orderly. And so my maisters, if the King (at the last méeting and conuen­tion at Poissi) had brought vs and the Hugenot ministers to haue once drunke togither, I beléeue, by my faith, wée had nowe bin friendes, and at a good vnitie and agréement: which made his audience to laugh more than at the first. But such as desire to heare these kinde of comparisons, no [Page 57] doubt but if he addresse himselfe to our aged men that he of good memorie here in England, he shall finde of their olde store, approued among our foregone Fathers as pleasant as these.

It was wont to be a common prouerbe, It is as true as God is in the Masse, which was so generally vsed, as the world thought there was no article of religion so certaine, nor that there was any leafe in the Bible or newe Testa­ment, but it made mention of it. And some (to proue the an­tiquitie and troth of the same) shamed not to preache that Fo. 433. Cayne resembled the damnable Lutherans, for y ^t he coulde neuer be persuaded to heare Masse, where his brother Abell would neuer faile to be at Masse. To the better confirmati­on wherof, a Priest of Sauoy, vsed to admonish his Parishi­oners, saying, Take héede you followe not that reprobate wretch Caine, who would neuer pay his Tythes nor heare Masse as he ought to doe, but rather followe his good bro­ther Abell, who did both with a good will paye of the best, fairest and fattest, and neuer missed daye to heare Masse: whiche argumente if it bée true, proueth that Massing Priestes, were then married: for séeing there was onelye foure persons at that time in the world, Adam, Eue, Caine, and Abell, it is to be beléeued, that Caine saide no Masse, for that he hated to come to it: and Abell could not saye Masse alone, and therefore it must néedes followe that Adam was the Massing man, Abell did help him, and Eue held y ^e torch, whereby is proued that the first priest was married.

Vnto this Curate I may compare as a companion, the Fo. 434. Iesuit that said in his Sermon, that when the Angell Gabri­el came to the Virgin Marie, he founde hir on hir knées, say­ing our Ladie Mattins: and also that Abraham, Isaak, and Iacob, and other the Patriarkes, neuer layde them downe, before they blessed themselues with the signe of the Crosse, saying their Pater noster and Aue Maria. But if one should demaunde howe they know this to be true, it must passe for currant coine, to answere, he heard it of some great Doctor.

[Page 58] Who doubteth of the great superstition, that those drea­med on, who (at the first) framed y ^e sundry partes & patches of the Masse: which wrought & brought to perfect medley, was made more vendible, than all their trashe besides. By what braines it was deuised, by whose cunning augmēted, & by what persons performed, sundry auntient authorities do witnesse: yet truly no portion of their religion more to be embraced for mirth than this: it hath so many pleasant dumb shewes, so many strange mysteries, and so gallantly masked, that during the play, they stande at a gaze, and are amazed, as it were looking for wonders, vntill Ita missa est, Farewell and be hanged. biddeth them Valete, & plaudete. Although the glory of this game was so great, as al knées bowed at the hearing of it: yet in the best world, & when it had most credite, there were some of al sorts, could say it without Booke: and euen the Massing mates themselues would sometimes iest at it.

As a Priest in Louein, (named Sanders) confessed he knew not the deuision of Masses, for all soules, & for al saints, &c. But for a common Masse he coulde course one, and it were for the Diuels good grace. Much like the good fellow, y ^t bad Fo. 357. sir Iohn come and say Masse, in the name of a hundred thou­sand Diuels: for his Maister was angrie. And as a Gen­tleman of Loraine, who loued the Masse well, and knewe his sonne did not greatly like of it, said to him: To Masse in the Diuels name, to Masse, his sonne beléeuing that his Father spake truer, than he winned for.

A poore Priest in a village, not farre from Amsterdame Apo. Ste Fo. 592. (in Hollande) findyng in an olde Almanack, Sol in Cancro, written with red letters, supposed it had bene the name of some solemne Saint: and therefore endeuored to searche out what Masse shoulde serue for that day. But in the ende, when he had well turned and returned (twice or thrice) his Masse Booke ouer, and coulde fynde no suche Saint there, he sayde, what a Diuell is this for a Saint? Wherevpon he concluded (in choller) thus, Sol in Cancro, Sol in Cancrus, nec est virgo nec martyrus, venite adoramus: which bycause it [Page 59] hath no good grace in the English, I leaue it to maister par­sons exposition, and will for his better credite accompanie Fo. 651. him with his owne Countrey man, a Priest of Dort, whose ignoraunce was such, as he knewe not what was ment by the name of Lutheran, whether it were the name of a man, or of a beast, or of any thing else: for beyng so called, (by­cause he sayde In nomine Patria, & filia, & spiritua Sancta) he so grieued at it, as he desired his friende to shewe him what that name myght signifie, who persuaded hym, it was a di­sease tenne times worse than the Leprosie: whereat hée tooke suche a conceite (supposing it to be some vnknowne maladie) as he sent his water to the Phisitions, willyng him in any wyse to sende him worde if he were not sicke of a Lutheran, and to shewe him the remedie.

These morrow Masse mates (who commonly had more good fellowshippe in them, than eyther witte or learning) were endowed with one special conditiō, worthie to be com­mended, for they had Masses of all sortes, for all diseases, of all prises, and for the humours of euerie man: and there­fore they knewe (if they dyd not vnbrydle it wyth spéede, to those that loued a shorte grace) what fauour they shoulde haue of them. As certayne Gentlemen of Fraunce, blessed their Chaplaine, who hauyng hast of their iourney, desy­red the Priest (in lieu of a hunting Masse) to giue them the Masse of a Souldior, supposing it to be one of the shortest. The Parson perusing his Portas, coulde not fynde anye Gospell that made mention of men of warre, excepte in the Passion, where it is written. Cum fustibus & armis, with Clubbes and other Weapons, &c. And therefore brought the whole Passion in his Masse: which made his audience in such a rage at hym, as they cursed both the sacri­fice, and the sacrifycer: for they were booted and spurred, and their horses readie to founder at the Church dore, stay­ing for them. The onely madnesse that holdeth the world in this Massing Frensie, consisteth in the vaine hope they haue to frée their friendes out of Purgatorie: wherevnto [Page 60] they haue some reason, when the Memento of one Masse a­lone (and at one instant) deliuered. 99. Soules from thence. And the Parson being asked why he lefte an odde behynde, Fol. 620. answered, that if the clappe of the Church window had not so sodainely started him, he would haue performed the iust number of a hundred.

And if it may be tollerable (amōg so many bad matters) Fo. 463. to recite one part played by a Prouost in Fraunce, yet persi­ted by an opinion of the Masse, I wil shew you the historie. This Magistrate meanyng for money to saue a notable Théefe, and to auoyde the slaunder in iustice, caused an ho­nest poore man to be brought before him, whom he saide he had long sought for, and that he had committed such & suche sundry crimes worthy death: the poore soule standing vpon his innocencie, stoutly denied al. But this Prouost resolued in his wretched purpose, persuaded him, saying, if he did con­fesse it, he would cause so many Masses to be said for him, & so his soule should be sure of Paradize: but if he denied it, he should notwithstanding be hanged and goe straight to y ^e di­uell, for he would suffer no one Masse to be said for him: the poore man hearing of hanging and going to the Diuel, was greatly afraide, & supposed if he must néedes die, it were bet­ter to gaine those Masses and goe to God: so in the ende he answered, that he did not remember he had committed any such faultes as they charged him, but if they knew it better than himself, & that they were assured it was true, he would (so the Masses might be sayd for him) take his death in good part: who had no sooner spoken that word but he was caried to execution in the place of the théefe. The persuasion of the Masses to kéepe him out of Purgatorie led this innocent to his death.

To the maintenance whereof Erasmus reciteth howe a Fol. 147. Priest on All Soules night fastened to the bodies of sundrie small Creuices certaine waxe lightes, scattering them a­mong the graues in the Church yarde (which séemed verie [Page 61] terrible to behold in the dead of the night as all the lookers on were astonied at y ^e feareful and strange sight of it, wher­vpon this Priest in his Sermons published that they were the spirites and soules of such, as sought to be deliuered frō the pain they endured in Purgatorie, by Masses and almes­déedes, which craft was shortly knowne, for some of those spirites were found with their Candels cleaning to them: and that vnripped the packe of this Popish knauerie.

And the same Erasmus in the two and twentith booke of his epistles, sheweth further how a night ghost was consu­red: Erasmus lib. 22. of his Epi. sor (sayeth he) there was a certaine Prieste that helde his Néece in the house with him, who had good store of mo­ney: and to the ende to drawe somewhat from hir, he lap­ped himselfe in a shéete, and towardes midnight entred hyr Chamber, counterfayting a spirite: the woman y ^t was wise, perceyued in part the mistery, and therefore caused another of hir kinsemen the nexte night to come and lye secretlye in the Chāber by hir: who in lieu of a coniuring booke brought a good cudgell, filling hys heade with drinke to be the har­dyer: the spyrite appearyng (as afore) beganne wyth hys fearefull noyse pitifullye to cry, when the Coniurer (who had not yet disgested hys Wine) sodainely sette vppon him, and so basted hym on both sides, saying if thou be the Diuel I am hys Damme, as he had vtterly spoyled him if he had not the sooner discouered himselfe.

In the yeare. 1569. there was in Ausburge in Germanie, Apo. Ste Fol. 147. certayne seruaunts belonging to one of greate worshippe, who made no accounte of the suttle secte of the Iesuites. Wherevppon a foule of the same feather, promised theyr Mayster hée woulde easilye remoue that opinion from thē, to the performaunce whereof, he disguised himselfe into hymselfe, and putte on the habite (of hys firste founder) the Diuell: And after hyding hym in a corner of the house, to the whyche place one of the mayde seruauntes by hyr Maysters appoyntment was sent, thys Iesuite in the forme [Page 62] of a diuel so feared hir, as she had like to haue gone oute of hir wittes: whiche she presently reported to one of hir Ma­sters men, persuading him in no case to come neare that way. The felow notwithstanding thought to proue whe­ther hir feare procéeded of any assured cause, wente to trye it: vppon whome this Iesuite diuell, or Diuell Iesuite (in the moste horriblest manner he might) fastened his coun­terfaite tallants. The fellowe partely prouided afore (loo­king for some such mater) drew out his dagger, & wrought a myracle, by killing of the diuell.

Thus you may sée, that the opinion whiche euerye one had in their holinesse, furnished them with all diuelishe in­uentions to maintaine the same: And therefore we ought greatly to reioyce (in God and our Quéene) that the true profession of the Gospel hathe so opened the eyes of Eng­lande, that we may beholde all their abuses, in their perfect kind. For now God wil not suffer, that such (which pure­ly (in faith and sinceritie) call vppon his holy name in Ie­sus Christe his son) shall feare or doubt any of those dam­nable deuises: where before they were wont (by their dai­ly familiaritie with the Diuel (to haue him continuallye conuersant among them:) p [...]actising by spirites (his in­strumentes of darkenesse) to holde the worlde in blind er­rors. Whiche a Protestant alleadging to a Papist, for the better signe and token of our true profession, sayde: You maye the sooner vnderstande by this, that our re [...]igion is good and sound doctrine: For since Gods word was prea­ched among vs, we haue not séene nor heard of any night ghosts to trouble vs. The other supposing this argument to serue beste for his purpose, replyed, saying, it is rather a token that God hath taken his grace from you, for that nowe the Diuell hath no more to do, considering he doth accompt you al his owne. Alleadging this example, writ­ten by Eneas Siluius sometime Pope Pius the 2. whiche hée tooke out of the Legend of Saint Benet, and the historie is thus: Saint Benet trauailed to a Couent of Monkes, [Page 63] where he founde a heape of vncleane Spirites com­batting with the holy Fathers of that place: and all to re­moue them from theyr good workes. Sainte Benet at an­other time returning to the Abbey, found an euil spirite sit­ting idlely wagging his legges, and beating his héeles to­gyther with cold: whom he coniured to shew him the cause of hys idlenesse: he aunsweared, we are to make wars wyth Cloystermen and such as be the seruauntes of God, and not against those whose dreames, trumperies, and blasphemies do already serue the Diuel.

This was well applyed, if Sainte Benet had bene by to haue paraphrased further vppon it: for none wil deny but that the suttletie of the Diuil is suche, as he séeketh to en­crease hys kyngdome by all the meanes he may: and howe can hys glorie be greater, than to kéepe that carefully which he hath gotten cunningly: And also it is a general rule, that a conqueror doth triumph in nothyng more than in hol­ding in due obedience, those that are become his vassals, which must be by the presence of him selfe, or by his chie­fest ministers. And seing the Diuel wanteth no experience, hauing as much foresight as so proude a Spirite may haue if we be so assuredly hys owne as that Papist would make vs, he woulde not be from vs in person as a friend to fauor vs, or in power as a iealious foe to lose vs, considering y ^e holy league (so termed) by the cōsent of so mightie Papists, haue promised to make vs reuolt (if it be as y ^e petie Papist sayeth) frō him. But, as it is only natural reason that those grosse creatures of the Popes desire to be satisfied by, so in reason they know it is as much wisedome & policie to kéep, as it is prayse & glorie to get, whiche in my opinion, y ^e féend would foresée as a principle, if he held vs so dear, as this his darling (winning y ^t gole, in his own conceyt, w ^t one stroke) alleageth he doth: & therfore it is to be beléeued, y ^e Diuel wil not dwel but where he hath some interest, and may be wel­come: And y ^e which is most true, the Pope his best beloued, as he cannot forbear him, so he dare not spare him so far of, [Page 64] séeing Gods warriours are comming with a rolling crench towards him. And as in al martial marches, there are euer some straglers, who care neither for Country, Captain, nor cause, but follow only to pray vpon the spoyle of others: so the Papistes of present time, that séeme to muster vnder the banner of true Christians (vexed with the frensie of these forlorne spirites in the image of Englishmen) come rogyng and stragling among vs, (as a newe founde Iesuite of late did) who couet nothing more than the ruine of theyr Coun­try, that they mighte (with the Diuell theyr Maister) haue a part in the bloudye bootie. But to proue indéed, howe Sa­than the chiefe Maister of sinne, dare not be where the word of God is truelye taughte, the sacred Scriptures in euerye text doe testifye: As in Matthewe the 8. Marke the 5. Luke the 8. Paule. 2. to the Corin: 6. Chap. &c.

Although the inuention of man be greate, whose proude iudgement hath presumed on many things: yet truely, hys iniquitie (in his own nature) did neuer deuise a more dam­nable blasphemie against God and his Saints, than y ^t booke entituled Legenda Aurea. Wherein there are many passages so far from Decorum, that if the reader be tender harted or squeamish stomacked, it wil make them Seasicke to peruse them.

As for a first example: Frier Iuniperus (whom Saint Frā ­cis helde for a very holy and most perfit godly man) woulde to shew his singlenesse in deuotion be cooke one daye to the whole Couent: where setting a great Caudron of water o­uer the fire, he put thereinto certaine Pullets, neither plu­med, drawne nor washed: and al other kinde of flesh as wel freshe as saulte, with sundrye sortes of Hearbes, and with Pease, beanes, and al maner of Pults, picking nor clensing any thing. And hauing boyled al this braue broth togither, he serued it in the same comely sort to his company: whych was taken for simplicitie sake to be the true part of a saint.

The same Iuniperus, being (in respect of hys deuotion) layde in a good bedde and a fayre payre of Sheetes, dyd [Page 65] so dungnifie them with durt, as his hostesse was faine to take it for payment, without a farewell. These two re­ligious partes, were to his singular praise (for simple ho­linesse) set forth, in the Conformities of Saint Frauncis, in the 62. and 63. leaues. Whiche honeste histories are there recited, to shewe the humilitie of this holy Fryer. And it may be there was more mysterie in the naturall course of those Crucifire Cormorants, than in anye other common creatures: For Fryer Ruffin (mentioned of in the same Booke) made the Diuell more afraid, by threatning that Fol. 95. Where it is shamefully re­cited in plain [...] termes. he would vntrusse a point in his throate, than with al the holywater he had: which argueth, that those grosse mates fed on some sacred substance: otherwise, the Diuel would neuer (with such feare) haue fled so filthie a perfume.

Pardon me good Reader, for my vndecent speeches, for I muste accommodate my termes in parte to the purpose: And it is an o [...]de Prouerbe, that it is hard to apply honest words to vnhonest workes: and as Chaucer saith, a plaine tale muste haue plaine termes. Who can forbeare to laugh and reade the life of Saint Dominike, howe he besie­ged certain Diuels within the body of a man, frō whence he woulde not suffer them to departe, before they had gy­uen him pledges to returne no more thither? And howe Saint Frauncis to proue his virginitie did strippe himselfe In confor. 211. starcke naked before the Bishoppe of Assise, and gaue the Bishop his bréeches for a relique.

Euen as he was, so were his Disciples: for Fryer Leonard comming to the gate of Viterbe, pulled off all his Fo. 62. apparell, putte his bréeches on his head, and hys shyrte, with the reste of his clothes, he bounde vppe in a fardell and hanged it about his necke. And in this braue beastlye sorte he passed throughe moste places of the Citie, endu­ring (in the meane time) all the shamelesse mockes that might be. And in the same naked shewe he went to the Abbey (a felowship of hys owne Fraternitie) where they cried vppon him for this moste impudent parte: But thys [Page 66] good frier was so clothed in Holinesse, as he made no ac­compt of all their reproches. You shall likewise findethe greate wisedome and grauitie of that Arche Saint Francis himself in the 114. leafe of his Conformities, how he salu­ted fléeing fowle, spake to them, & called thē his brethren, commaunding them to heare the worde of God, whereat they reioyced so much, as they stretched forth their necks, and opened their villes, and behelde him very attentiue­ly: And after the Sermon, he passed through the middest of them, and then gaue them leaue to departe in peace: which they did with great deuotion, diuiding themselues into foure parts, whereby they did signifie, that the orders of Saint Frauncis should passe, & be placed in al quarters of the world: and that he shoulde be renowmed on the earth aboue all other professors. Also that Saint Frauncis and a Nytingale did sing togither a whole day the one aunswe­ring Fol. 149. the other. And in the leafe 114. is mentioned, howe by making of the signe of the Crosse onely, he charmed a madde Wolf, that had hurte manye, and concluded thys bargaine with him, saying, my brother the Wolfe, thou shalt promisse me, that thou wilt be no more so rauenous, as thou haste bin, and I will warrant thée, that those of the Citie shall féede thée: whiche the Wolfe affirmed to hold by enclining his head to him: and for his more faith & credite, he gaue his right foote into Saint Francis hand, who commaunded the Wolfe (as his good brother) in the name of Iesus Christe to goe with him, which he did. We reade likewise of many other Saints that had a speciall fe­licitie to be conuersant & to deuise with beastes, but I be­léeue that the fraternitie and felowship of Wolues, was onely peculiar to Saint Frauncis. Is it not a mockerie to reade, that Saint Macaire did 7. yeres penance among thor­nes & bryars, for killing of a flea? And who can forbeare to laugh at an other part of Saint Dominike recited towards the end of his legend? which is, that a Nunne named Ma­ry, hauing a griefe in hir thigh, that had greatly troubled [Page 67] hir the space of fiue months, (& in the end acknowledging hir vnworthines to pray to God, or to be heard of him) she prayed to Saint Dominike, that he woulde be a mediatour betwéene God and hir, that she might recouer hir health. After which deuotions, Saint Dominike came to hir in hir sléepe, and with an ointment that he tooke from vnder his Cope (which was of excelling sauor) he anointed hir thigh & made hir whole: And when she asked the name of so so­ueraigne a remedy, he answered it was the ointment and balm of Loue. For the further iudgement thereof, I leaue it to the discretion of the reader, whose imaginatiō, I sup­pose, wil ioine with mine: which truly is no worse, than y ^e same that was betwéen friendly S. Frauncis, and louing S. Clare mentioned of in the 84. leafe of his Conformities.

We haue the like historie (thoughe more blasphemous) Sprenger. published by one Sprenger, an Almaine Writer: who sha­med not to put in print, y ^e where a Iacobin named Alaine, did forge our Ladies Psalter, she, in recōpence of it, came to his chamber, & made him a ring of hir haire, wherwith she married him, & how she kissed him, and offered him hir paps to play with, & that she was as familiar with him, as any wife coulde be with hir husband. In the Legend of S. Germaine is shewed how the king of Denmarke deny­ing to him and his company lodging, he was fain to séeke it at the Neatherds hand, who receiued him gently, brou­ghte him to his house, and hauing but one Calfe did kil it for S. Germaine and his company, that were like to perish with hunger & cold. But after supper he caused the skin & bones of y ^e Veale to be brought togither to him, whervp­on when he had made his prayers, the Calfe did rise into his first proportion of life againe. And the next morning he went to the king, vsing great & grosse spéeches vnto him, commaunding him out of his kingdome, & established the cowherd in his place, which he & his successors enioyed for euer after. He that desireth to heare more of these fables, shall find his fil of them in the Legend of y ^e Saints liues: [Page 68] where this, & much worse matter is written for a truth of them. And also Nicephorus reciteth, that manye yeares af­ter Nicephorus. the death & burial of S. Iohn Chrisostome, his body did dayly speake, & would both aske & answere to questions. And that the Emperour Theodosius did write letters to him. But the Booke called the Conformities of S. Fran­cis with Iesus Christ, mentioned of so oft afore, was neuer compiled without the aide and consent of the Diuell him­selfe: For, one of the greatest myracles that Christe héere on earth didde, was the raysing of Lazarus from deathe to life: which was as common and easie to S. Francis and his Disciples, as it was to drincke a glasse of Wine. And S. Francis vsed it as a sporte, to kil: to the end he would shew his power to quicken againe, as is recited in these proper wordes, in the leafe 120. Locus est dictus de Nuceria, in quo beatus Franciscus fecit illud insigne miraculum, quod cuiusdam medici filium primogenitum prius occidit, & contritum suscitando restituit. The valor say they of Christ, was nothing com­parable to the myracles of S. Francis for Christ was trans­figured but once, S. Francis 20. times: Christ changed wa­ter into wine but once, he thrice: Christ suffred the griefe of his woundes but a little while, he whole two yeare to­gither: And as concerning myracles to make the blind to sée, the lame to goe, and to driue Diuels oute of the pos­sessed, Christe cannot compare with S. Francis and his fol­lowers. For they haue giuen sight to more than a thou [...]ād blind, they haue restored the limmes to more than a thou­sand lame (as wel men as beasts) and they haue forced the Diuel to flye out of more than a thousand menne and wo­men. Is it possible that any Christian eare coulde heare them preach these horrible blasphemies in open Pulpit, & not spit in their face, or rather teare them in péeces? Yea, when they were not ashamed to conclude, that Christe was but a counterfaite to S. Frauncis, and in these damna­ble termes, that he was not worthy to pull off his hose: affirming with full gorge, that he did far excel & surpasse y ^e [Page 69] Apostles, the Saints, & al the Angels: And in the 17. leafe it is said he was a Patriarke, a Prophet, a Postle, a Mar­tyre, a Doctor, a Confessor, a Virgin, an Angell, & a Saint most conformed to Iesus Christ. And in so. 49. they name the 12. Apostles of S. Francis, Petrus Chatanei, Iohannes de Capella, Philippus Longus, &c. And as Iudas Iscarioth was re­iected out of y ^e felowship of the Apostles, for betraying their Maister Christ: so Iohannes de Capella was deiected from S. Frauncis, bicause he was proued to detest his profession. And further, they do ascribe vnto hym the title of Iesus of Nazareth King of the Iewes: For firste they inuested hym wyth the title of Iesus, bycause he was in nature, qualitie, condition, and conformitie, moste like vnto him: And of Nazareth, for that he was a moste pure virgin: They cal­led him King bicause he kept both the inward and the out­warde laws: And for that he was full of melodie and ioy, soliciting all the world to the prayse & honor of God, they sayde it was a speciall signification of the Iewes.

Beholde the conclusion of this most diuelishe and infer­nall inuention of the Popes Saints, which ascended to y ^e highest degrée of most vngodly blasphemie.

It is no maruel though they helde him (and others hys like) in that curssed credite: when they so bewitched the wits of all men, as they thought no reuerence too muche, to be (with great deuotion) done, to any parte or parcel of them: yea, and it were but to a patche of their apparell. As at Tryer in the Abbey of S. Symon, they helde the Pan­taphles of S. Ioseph for a great relike: And at Aix in Ger­manie his bréeches, and our Ladies smocke: The smocke greate ynough for a Giant, and the bréeches too lyttle for a Dwarffe: And in some places they reuerenced for relikes their pottes and their spoones: And at Gennes they honored the Asses taile that carryed Christ: and in Loraine the holy Hay that was in the racke where Christ was borne: At Arles among the Augustines, at Vigand in Languedock, and at Florence the stones that stoned S. Stephen were hadde in [Page 70] great price: They also honored the Arrowes that were shot at S. Sebastian in Poictiers, and at Lambeske in Prouance. And in my opinion, séeing the Stones and arrowes were ac­compted so holy, the Archers and Stone-casters were worthy some glorie.

But to the ende the Reader shal not muse ouer much vp­on these suttleties, to shewe that the world had no eyes, nei­ther in their heads, nor in their vnderstanding, but as wil­lingly or wilfully blinde suffered themselues to bed led into all absurditie: I wil recite a certaine historie, whereby you may the better beholde their simple follie.

When Nicodemus tooke our sauiour Christe from the Crosse, he saued so muche of hys bloude as filled one of the Fol. 612. fingers of his gloue: with the whyche hée wrote sundrye myracles. By reason whereof, being hardly persecuted by the Iewes, he was compelled in the end to conuey it awaye by a maruellous meanes. For he didde write in a péece of parchment, al the myracles he had done, with the whole circumstance how the misterie shoulde be vsed, and closed the bloud with the parchment in the bill of a bigge water fowle (for my Author maketh no mention of his name) and hauing bounde it and trimmed it in the beste manner he myght, he caste it into the Sea, and commended it to God. Whose blessed wil was, that after this Saint Bill (by the time and terme of 1000. or 1200. yeares) had sayled through al the Weasterne and Easterne seas, it shoulde in the ende arriue in Normandie, where at this day doth stande the Ab­bey of Bill: And beyng by the boysterous billowes caste a­shoare among other baggage, on a heape of bushes, it hap­ned a good Duke of Normandie (one that was a founder to such follies in those daies) to be hunting of a Hart in those quarters, where sodainely he hadde loste bothe Déere and Dogges, til at last he spyed them before thys bushe all on their knées, the Hart first, and the houndes harde behinde him: and as some write, they were at theyr prayers. This sight moued the Duke to greate deuotion, who reuerentlye [Page 71] sought the place, where he founde thys pretious Bill with the contents thereof: whych caused him to build an Abbey in the honor of it, naming it the Abbey of Saint Bill, where this beautifull myracle is yet to be séene, adorned wyth such sundrye riches, as this Bill doth now féede a number of bellies.

Here is to be noted, howe euidentlye and impudentlye they didde mocke the pore Idiots in that age: For, when they did opē the shop of their shamelesse relikes, how bold­ly would they brag of their rotten merchandize? As behold here in this viole the bloud of our sauiour Christ gathered togither vnder the Crosse by the virgin Mary: And in thys other viole, is the teares of our Redéemer, that hée dydde shedde on the Crosse, when he behelde his pitifull mother: Here is the milke of our Ladies breastes, the haire of hir head, and the sooadling bandes wherewith she firste rolled Christe at his byrth: And in this bottle (whyche may not in any wise be opened) is the very breath of Iesus Chryste curiously kepte by his mother euer since hée was a lyttle one.

As a Priest at Gene, returning from Iewrie, affyrmed he brought wyth him of the same breath, and from Mount Sy­nay the hornes of Moses. These shamelesse shewes of theyr trumperie, if anye did finde faulte or speake against them, be was condemned for an heretike: For it was (they wold say) allowed and confirmed by the Popes Holinesse, to be most true, and therefore damnable to thinke the contrary. I leaue to recite their infinite store of trash, which by their runnagate Pardoners were made as vendible as these.

As one that carried about the relikes of Saint Hubart (to Fo. 555. iustifie the vertue of them) bashed not with moste blasphe­mie to affyrme, that if the holy Ghost were bitten with a mad dog, he would come to Saint Hubart to be healed. A­mong this rabblement of Relickes, I must néedes intrude Fol. 559. one myracle performed in the person of a Iesuite, who, to obserue the straight lawes of their religion, had his Con­cubine [Page 72] close in his bed to help him say his Mattins at midnight: And his boy or Nouice comming vp in the morning (by chance they both asléepe) he saw foure naked féete hang out of the bed, whereat he was so amazed, as he sodainely put his head out at the windowe, and mainely cryed: ho, come sée a myracle, for my Mayster hathe foure legges.

And further, to shewe their aucthoritie for the proofe of their Images, which they honored with reuerēce due on­ly to God, it will euery way appéere to be as bad & as ab­surde as y ^e rest. For a Legate of the Popes to the orientall Churches, didde alleadge for Saintes, the texte of Moses: God created Man to his owne Image: and therefore hée affirmed, we ought to haue Images. An other to proue that Images muste be vppon the Aultare: brought in the 5. of Mathewe for a witnesse: where Christe sayeth, that none lighteth a Candle, and couereth it with a bushell, but setteth it vppon a candle sticke, to light al the house with. An other alleadging, that the sight of Images was profi­table, bringeth the 4. Psalme for proofe: The light of thy countenaunce, O Lorde, is marked vpon vs. And Theo­dorus brought in this suttletie, It is written, that God is maruellous in his Saintes: And therfore he would haue vs to contemplate his glory in Images: And one affirmed this similitude, that as the Patriarkes vsed the sacrifice of the Infidels, so Christians ought to haue Images, in lieu of their Idols. Here you may sée their faire allegati­ons, approued by some of their generall counsels and pre­ched in their common sermons: by which places of Scrip­ture they abused sundrie of good capacitie and iudgement: And yet the simplest might sée how farre they erred from the true meaning of the Text.

A Sorbonist Doctor named Demochares (of late yeares at the Conuention of Poissi in Fraunce) pleading in the de­fence of Images, agaynste a minister of Gods worde, when he was sette agrounde and sawe hys owne ouer­throwe, he shamed not to take holde on this allegation: [Page 73] gation: That the Church of Saint Benets in Poissi was buil­ded in the time of Saint Denise, and there was images in the glasse Windowes: Ergo there were Images in Sainte De­nise time: you haue wel aunsweared sayd the Minister, with a good grace like a Doctour, and with matter sufficiēt, per­tinent to the purpose: but that the best substaunce of your brittle authority is altogither of glasse.

With what sorts of superstition dyd they leade the world when they made so deare sale of these fantastike sightes, or rather infernall vanities, compelling the simple people sometime, to honor the presence of hys image here, whose soule was with the Diuell elsewhere: As an auntiente Do­ctour writeth, Multorum corpora adorantur in terris, quorum a­nimae cruciantur in infernis How were they blinded with the filthy and most stinking sinne of Idolatry, when in time of most peril, and at the instant of their deathes euery one had some peculiar Saint to call vpon: and such they were com­monly, as in theyr liues they did most deuotion and honor vnto: cleane forgetting God in the merite of hys sonne Ie­sus Christ. As Erasmus making mention of a shipwracke, sheweth, that when the maister of the shippe saw no reme­dy Erasmus Coloq. but the losse of all, and willyng euerye man (passengers with him) to prepare to dye, declaring the assured peril they were in, some called vppon one Saint, some vpon another, euery one according to y ^e hope he had in theyr priuate help: and one among the rest desired hys S. Christopher to remē ­ber hym, promysing, that he would present him with a Ta­per light, as long and as great as the Maste of the ship: an­other stāding by & hearing his offer (who knew his termes and state very wel) said, how canst thou performe thy vow, when al y ^e welth thou hast is not worth so much waxe as y ^e Mast is big: to whom he replyed, speaking it softly (that S. Christopher shoulde not heare hym) saying, hold thy peace friend, I wil promise much to haue his helpe now, but if I get once to shore, I will scant giue him a Candle as big as my finger.

[Page 74] Not much vnlike vnto this was y ^e pleasaunt parte of a Tayler of Florence, who had a long time (with great deuo­tion) Apo. Ste Fo. 118. honored the Image of Saint Baptist, and one daye on both his knées, he hūbly desired to know whether his wife (at any time) had wantonly abused him, and what fortune should folow his only son. A yong Nouice (trayned vp to al knauishe toyes) happened to ouer-heare his petition: who stepped behinde the Aultar, and fayning the voyce of Saint Iohn, aunswered him: My deare friend and faithfull folow­er, for thy long reuerent worshipping, & deuotion thou haste done vnto me, I will truely tell thée: thy wife hath ofte hor­ned thy head, and thy son shal be shortly hanged: wherefore departe in peace, since thy Prayers be hearde: whereat our Florentine entring into a great rage, did rise & toke his leaue wythout a farewel, but when he was a little past from him (vsing no reuerence of Cappe or knée) he turned and saide: what art thou for a Saint? the Nouice aunswered, I am thy Saint Baptist: My Saint (quoth he) thou art the diuel, a lier, foule mouthed, and a slaunderer, which thou hast vsed from the beginning. For that babling false tong of thine, caused Herode worthyly to cutte off thy head. I haue pray­ed Matthew the. 14. cha. to thée this 25. yeare and haue offered more light before thée, thā I am worth: But now holding vp his fist towards him, & offring him the Italian fig) I wil sée thée hanged, as y ^e wast headed, before I wil come to thée againe.

A certaine Cooke in Florence, accustomed to make his or­dinarie prayers & Candle offrings to a very yong Image of Apo. Ste Fol. 576. Christ, entertayning himselfe in his grace the space of xx. yeares: about which time, it fortuned a Tilestone to fal frō the house vpon his childs head, & wounded him to the death, which the Father perceyuing, came to hys yong S. Christ, & brought him a fayre waxe light for a presente (where hée was wont to offer only a tallow Candle) vsing this prayer: my most swéete litle Lord Iesus Christ, I pray thée restore my son to helth, thou knowest it is now more than xx. yeres since I first faithfully serued thée, during which time, I ne­uer [Page 75] desired any pleasure of thée, but now, séeing my son is in danger of death, I am come to commend vs both vnto thee, desiring thée to helpe him, as wel for the deuotion he bears thée (being yong like thy self) as for the continuall seruice I haue done thee. After he had ended these prayers, he wente home, where finding his son deade, he returned in a surie to his little Christ, to whom (without anye knée or curtesie) & with his cap on his head he said, I do vtterly renounce thée, with assured promise, that thou shalt neuer sée me more: I haue with true deuotion serued thée long, and neuer requy­red any good turne at thy hand til now: and thou hast bothe denyed me and deceiued me. I confesse I ouer-late finde my own folly, for had I done halfe the seruice to the gentleman that good old Roode thy Father that stāds by thée, as I haue done to thée, I am sure he wold not so childishlie haue refu­sed me. And one thing more I will promise thée, it shall be a warning for me for euer hereafter, to haue to do either w ^t thée, or w ^t any boy for thy sake, adding this prouerbe Chis' Apo. Ste Fo. 577. vnpaccia confanciulli, confanciulli siritroua: He that hath to do with children, shal be childishly handeled, which may well agrée with this that followeth: For where one praying to our Lady (with hir little infant Christ in hir armes) hadde hys answere made in a childish voyce (by one that stoode be­hinde hir Image) whyche lyked hym nothyng, and iud­gyng by the voyce that it was not the mother that spake, but hyr sonne, sayde, holde thy peace prettie babe hold thy peace, & let thy mother speake who hath more wit than thy selfe.

But the Burgonion vsed brauer spéeches to a yong Cru­cifixe, son to an old that had almost killed him, for he com­ming Ap. Ste. Fol. 577. into the Churche, and séeing a fayre yong Crucifixe made wyth a smyling countenaunce, and set in the place of the olde, he sayde to him: it is not thy dissembling face, nor all the flattering shewes thou canst make, shall deceyue mée, for I wyll neuer truste thée: And I warraunt [...] [Page 76] if thou liue to the age of a man, thou wilt proue as false as thy father, that meant to murder me. Not muche vnlike the spéeches that a Flēming vsed to a roode in Rochel, though in another sense: for he comming thyther to sell Herring, and finding a badde Market for his purpose, he wente into the Church, where séeing the Roode wyth his head hanging on the one side, and looking very pitifully, he sayd: ah good Lord, didst thou (likewise) bring hither Herring to sell? These Hi­stories do witnes, that as the Pope & his prelacie, brought all the world into damnable Idolatrie, touching the wor­shipping of Saintes, so it séemed that some in all ages, wold shewe those Idolles their Lessons, when they pleased them not.

As not long since the inhabitauntes of a village called Neutonne by Paris, for that theyr vines were frosen on Saint Fo. 578. Georges day: did not alone speak bold & opprobrious words vnto hym, but presumed on his person, and threw hym into the riuer of Seine, to the end he shoulde be as wel frozen as their Vines, which act was so much the more hardye, for y ^t they durst attempt it against him, who is a Mars among all the Saints.

And a Fryer in Artoys in Henaulte, Preaching of the statue of golde, that Nabuchodonozor caused to be set vp, Fo. 467. wherof Daniel maketh mention in hys thyrd Chapter, hée sayde, thys Image was as great a villayne as our Sainte Eust [...]ce is, but he was all of Massie gold, I woulde to God our Saint Eustace were so to.

Wherby, as we may see that some would be sausie with theyr Saints, so truely in al worlds there were that would touch their Hipocrisie with termes apt for them.

For Laurence de Medecis who knew the best honor due to Apo. Ste Fo. 578. theyr desart, being asked by the Turkes Embassadour how it hapned he could not sée so many mad men, fooles & Idiots, passe through the stréetes of Florence, as were commonly to be séene in Caire & other Cityes of hys Country, he answe­red, we hold them all enclosed in strong houses, euerye one [Page 77] according to the qualitie of his madnesse or frensie: where­vpon the next daye (accompanying him out of Florence) he shewed him a number of Monasteries, which he said were y ^e places for their fooles and mad men of all sorts, and were called Monkes, Friers and Nonnes. All this is nothing, nor that which hath bin published by our predecessors, a­gainst the pettie sort of the Clergie, in respect of y ^e which hath bin spoken against the Popes their owne persons.

For Pasquin from the beginning and euen at their dores would touch them so to the quicke, & descipher euery small Fol. 580. artier or vaine of thē so naturally, as no Anotomiser could doe better: whose skill was the more, for that he was ac­quainted with the best witted, gentillest spirited, and most of iudgement in al Rome. This Pasquin to shewe in one word, what the whole Etimologie of the Popes vertue and name did signifie, fained to die in dispaire, of an vnkindnesse, y ^t one had slaundered him. Why (quoth his friend) haue they cal­led th [...] Théefe, murtherer, or poisoner? he answered no, but they haue termed me much worse: haue they called thée a robber of Churches, a killer of thy Parents, a Bouggerer, or an Atheist? Alas no said Pasquin, they haue touched my credit with a worse report thā all this. His friend grieuing to sée him in that wofull case, deuined at all the greatest and most infamous names that could be deuised, he still affir­ming it was worse, and so bad, that I knowe you can neuer gesse at it: Why then said his friend, I pray thée shewe me what it is, that hath brought thée into this dispaire? In the end Pasquin deliuering a déepe sigh, answered: alas & twice alas, they haue called me Pope: confirming the sayings of Pope Leo the. 10. before mentioned.

For the same Pope, reproued by certaine of his Cardi­nalls Apo. Ste. Fol. 457. for his euill gouernment, and hatefull life to all men, (as one that was wonderfully chaunged, after he became Pope) answered: if I be euill giuen now, it is you that are in the faulte, for it is your selues that haue made me as I am. They wondring at these words, desired to know how [Page 78] that might be: Bicause (quoth he) you haue made ine Pope, and I haue in my owne person by proofe tryed it, that it is vnpossible to bée Pope and a good Christian togither, and to dwell both in one skinne: which is easie to bée beléeued by the course of their whole lyues, who would prophane (as well by their workes as their wordes) those things they ac­counted most holy.

As Pope Iulie the. 12. who did cast into Tyber the keyes of Saint Peter, and tooke in hand the sword of Saint Paule, Fol. 586. iustifying that the keyes in regarde of the sworde was of no value or force, to maintaine his warres with. According to these verses following.

RESPONSIO.

What greater mockerie could there be, or rather dam­nable blasphemie (to their owne profession) than the same y ^t Gregorie the. 7 (first named Hildebrand) did: for he, bicause [Page 79] his Aultar God (called the Sacrament) would not answere to y ^e he demaunded, he cast him into the fire in y ^e presence of Apo. Ste. Fol. 587. a nūber of his Cardinals, and in great despight said, there was no substance in him, y ^t could not doe as much as Apollo the God of Infidels, who answered euery man by Oracle.

This your Pope and visible God on earth (to obtaine the Papacie) gaue himself, his soule, and all to the Diuel, which appeared by his skill in cōiuring, witchcraft, and sorcerie.

If the Pope, with all his companie of grosse creatures, had beléeued any heauenly vertue to haue bin in that miste­rie, where vnto they made all the world (with bowed knées) to doe godly reuerence, and to beléeue it was God in déede vpon their damnation, how could they haue bene so full of impietie to prophane it as they did.

For a Priest of Loraine holding in his hand a great boxe of these Wafer cakes, not yet consecrated: shaking them togither, saide, ho you prettie knaues and false harlottes which of you shall be a God to day?

From Loraine I must come to Prouance, where a Priest at the eleuation, did hold y ^e féete of his God vpward & the head downward, & being asked y ^e cause, why he did so? answered: for y ^t I woulde not haue his bréeches fall about his héeles. Confirming the report of a Sacrificer in Sauoye, who vaū ­ted in his mirth, that they vsed their God, as the Cat vseth the Mouse, for when they haue sported and played at their pleasure with him, they deuour him.

A Gascoine named Gotrene, saying Masse, & séeing his gos­syp (who then serued the turne) very slow to answer Amen, he saide, saye Amen in the name of the Diuell, to whom he answered Amen in the Diuels name: adding more, y ^e Can­kar consume you gossyp, for if you had not spoken so hastily I had taken a Mouse: which you must suppose came either to heare Masse, to be canonized, or to séeke his praye, as at Lodoue in Gascoine a Mouse came vpon the Aultar, whilest y ^e Priest slept in his Memento, & stale a péece of his God from him, for y ^e which he was canonized, & called Saint Mouse.

[Page 80] An other Curate being in the best part of his Masse (whē his Aultar God was aloft) spying a boy clyming his Ther­rie trée, he cryed aloude, come downe in the Diuels name, come downe, his Parishoners supposing he had spoken to him betwéene his handes.

Whereunto I must adde this shorte remembrance of a Fo. 593. Curate of the Cittie of Aubnias in Viuieres, who saying hys high Masse in a Churche which was not well couered, by reason whereof the winde blew away his Wafer God frō him, the Priest being badly sighted, sought him about the Aultar, and patting with his hands to féele him, said, where the Diuell art thou become, or whether the Diuell art thou gone? Which argued there was some affinitie, or else some great league of amitie betwéene the Diuell and their Idol. And yet here resteth a question: for if they had bin of such friendship, how durst euerie Priest at his pleasure, to haue threatened him with the Diuell? As for example, A com­mon mate hauing a good minde to beate a Priest in Loraine, the first time he mette him, he was going with his Wafer God a visitation. Well (said this companion) and it were not for reuerence I owe to that in your handes, I woulde coniure you. The Priest standing in termes of his valure, answered, I am readie when thou darest, and therefore for­beare me not for him, for beholde my God is on the ground (which in déede he had set downe to be iudge betwéen them) and I giue him to the Diuell, if he take parte eyther with the one, or with the other. By which threates it should ap­peare he stoode in awe of the Diuell.

There was also a Vicar of a village called Felniag (be­sides Bonne in Sauoy) to whom his Parishoners came and re­quested him to cease a storme, for that he had oft vaunted he could caulme the worst weather that might be: and ther­fore to approue his credite, he first vsed certaine coniurati­ons, which he had by hart: then he brought forth his Por­tas, and his Masse Booke, wherin he did reade the most cur­sed sentences he coulde finde, himselfe being in the meane [Page 81] while vnder a trée, which kepte him from the force of the storme. In the ende, when he sawe none of those charmes would serue, he fet forth his holy Sacrament, wherevnto he vsed these spéeches: Courdi, se te ne ple fort, que le Diablo, ze te zetera de guen placo: that is, By the heart of God, if thou bee not stronger than the Diuell, I will caste thee into the durt.

What horrible blasphemie was this of a Priest, and in despight of that, which they all séemed (with diuine reue­rence) so much to honour?

These examples (in my opinion) are more than sufficient, to proue that the same whiche our Papistes call thei [...] holy mother Church, did not hid their wickednesse to our prede­cessors, but so manifested it by their dayly doings, that those which were not willingly deaffe or blind, must néedes both heare and sée them: shewing withall, how they did special­ly prophane that which they held for a true, sound & holy re­ligion. Notwithstāding where one found fault at their false doctrine, a thousand were offended at their wicked lyuing, for the whole world complained of their ordinarie crymes, being nothing to y ^e they otherwise most hatefully cōmitted against the Maiestie of God, in their daylye blaspheming him in the horrible abuse of his holy word.

For the disordinate and cursed lyues that they continued and kept in the Court of Rome, was such, so hateful & abho­minable, that Petrach spake of it both in his Italian & La­tine Epistles: affirming that Christ was banished from thence, & Antichrist receiued, & made campe maister among them: and that vnder the banner of Christ they made wars with Christ: for the Pharaseis (saith he) did neuer so muche villanie to him as those dayly doe: shewing by their words and workes, that they holde the assured hope of eternall lyfe, for a fable: for he that was the man of most mischiefe among them, had for honour and prayse the highest & chie­fest place. And touching their couetous catching and gathe­ring of gold, it was so vnsaciat, as they set to sale their own [Page 82] soules: and made vendible Marchandize of the Church of all the Saintes of heauen and of Christ himselfe. Accor­ding to the saying of Pope Leo the. 10. whose confessor in y ^e time of death, persuading him to feare nothing, considering that he had y ^e keyes of Paradise, & the managing of all the meri [...]es of Christ & of the Saintes, at his pleasure: he an­swered, you knowe y ^t he which once selleth any thing, is no more maister of it: and I y ^t haue sold Paradise & al the rest, how shal I acceūt to haue any part or portion in them? Ap­prouing y ^e sūme & substance of these verses following, which sheweth their monstrous impudencie, ioyned w ^t most abho­minable impietie: and were grauen with Gothicall letters in a table of stone, which not long since did hang in y ^e Chur­che of S. Steuens in Burgis, at a piller harde by the Aultar where the Cardinall was wont to say his solemne Masse.

These verses, for y ^t they be in Latine rime, I cānot frame any good grace to them in English: but y ^e effect & substance consisteth: in y ^t, who so euer did offer or giue to their wood­den image, should goe into Paradise: and y ^e more they gaue y ^e better place should be prepared for thē: and those y ^e gaue nothing should be assured neuer to come there. For Hic da­tur exponi Paradisus vendi [...]ioni, is as much to saye, as here is Heauē or Paradise to be sold. But to the end the vnlearned Reader shall not loose the knowledge of so good a market, (the summe of all consisting in these two verses)

I haue translated them as neare as I can to the true sense word for word.

Sée here the faire less [...]n these scholemaisters of perdition would learne vs, according to the sayings of Plutarch, that if Iudas came to Rome with his. 30. Pence (the price of our Sauiours bloud) he should be receiued and Christ reiected, affirming further, that truth could haue no credite or coun­tenance there, where the aire, the earth, the temples, yea their Palaces, houses and buildings, was full of treason, urther, falshood, blaspheming, and lying.

[Page 84] Nowe oure Romishe Catholikes (whose conuersion to Christ in heart I craue) that so muche desire by wilful igno­rance to suppresse God and his glorye, and to aduaunce the Pope and his Prelacie, and woulde haue these Tragicall partes (beautified with gluttonie, adorned with lecherie, & de [...]ked with all sinne and iniquitie) to triumphe vppon our English Stage, before the play begin, consider y ^e infamous falshood, & the traiterous trumperie, that those of y ^e Churche of Rome doe holde you in: and gather into your memorie, y ^e summe & effect of these examples, which I haue rudely and disorderly dispersed in this booke, to y ^e better vnderstanding of the simplest sort of you: and looke into the infinite num­ber, that sundrye others (most learned Authors to your be­hoofe) haue collected and published: wher you shal sée (if God haue not vtterly sealed vp the eyes of your iudgement) the manifest abuses of that Romish beast, how he séeketh your deathes in the errour of your liues, and would haue you de­uour your selues, in the wicked workes of your handes.

For is it not a maruellous folly, & a quintessence of blas­phemie, to honour fleshe and bloud, a man, a sinful creature, one that standes with vs all vnder the sentence and curse of God (if it were not for the mercifull redemption of our Sauiour Iesus Christ) with that diuine reuerence, that his heauenly Maiestie hath reserued onely for himselfe? And to beléeue that so base a person somtime procéeding from poore parentage, that after he be once a Pope, (which consisteth only in mans election) to be straight a God? Further, to be­léeue that he hath the keyes in his handes of heauen and of hell: how he can place and displace in eyther at his pleasure: and that for money he can sell both to those that will buye them of himselfe or of his Ministers? What weakenesse can be more, than to beléeue, that it is lesse sinne to kill a man, than to eate fleshe on a Fryday or on a fasting day, or to breake any of the least commaundementes of this earth­ly God: If you also (in the bowels of your conscience) consi­der the substance of your Masse Sacrifice, and the great a­buse [Page 85] that is hidden vnder the pretext of that Popish deuise: you cannot deny, but that you haue (from the beginning) bin couered w ^t the cloud of iniquitie: for how hath y ^e whole world bin strāgely bewitched (the most part yet continuing so) to beléeue that there was a Purgatory, from whence no soules could be purchased or chased but by the batterie and blowes of their masking Masses: and to builde theyr salua­tion on the sentence of an ignoraunt Idiot: that after hée had pronounced certaine Sacramental wordes ouer many Cak [...]s of one marke, to make so many Gods of them, whi­che shoulde (in déede) be holden the more suspected, for that both the flesh and bloud of them, if anye were, haue bin in­struments of poyson: The bloud to William Archbishop of Yorke, in the time of Pope Anastasius the fourth: and the fleshe to the Emperoure Henrie the seauenth, by a Iacobin named Bernarde of Mount Politaine, one of the faction of the Guelphis? But I haue too long dwelled in these Tragicall discourses, and therefore I will no more remember them: trusting that I haue to your good contentmēt, performed (in some part) my first promise for examples.

Yet to the end you shall not obiect (without reply) that I fetch my authorities from far, and sette the honor of other countreys to cōmon sale of slaunder, as one that mayltaine on forraine nations what he list: I will openly confesse that more than abhominable abuses (remaine in record) commit­ted by our forgone holye fathers of the same marke here in England. For at their first visitation of the Monasteries, Co­uents, Churches, Colledges, and other professed places of thys Realme, theyr villanies, whoredomes, aduouteries, incest, buggeries and murders, were found so manifest, as they noted infinite numbers by name, whiche were conui­cted in all the sinnes that may be named. And séeing y ^e same is already extant in print, I leaue the particularities to y ^e searche of those, that desire to knowe euerye one in hys co­lours.

At their suppression (whiche surely was Gods secrete [Page 86] iudgement vpon them) they were accounted foure hundered Eouents, of sundry sorts of Monckes and Nunnes, besides the Fryer beggers, neare in nūber to two hundred houses, whose lewde, lubberlye, letcherous and lazie liues, was so hated and abhorred (of the better sort of men) as he withheld his holy and heauenly word from vs, vntil Henrie the eight (of sacred memory) did put his hands to Gods plough, and stubbed vp all those rablement of most filthy and styncking wéeds, pretending truely to haue procéeded, and to haue til­led it with good corn: but he in whose iudgement refresh the foresight of all things, who knoweth the end before the be­ginning, preuented hys princely purpose, in no worse sorte, than as his mightie Maiestie dearelye loued his seruante Dauid, yet reierued the building of his holy Sanctuarie, to hys sonne Salomon: euen so, our godly late king Edwarde, (séeing the worthynesse of his Fathers worke and hauing so happy a waye prepared) entred on Christes husbandry: where finding the weather fayre and seasonable to sow, be slacked no time (by hys heauenly hyndes) to put Gods word into the grounde of all true englishe hartes. But, before the same coulde grow to his perfecte rypenesse, the appoynted time of our continual comfort by our sauiour not yet come, or our vnthankful sin, or both, caused that careful husband, to be taken from vs: whereby both Cockell and Darnel, wyth all other sorts of sowre wéedes, so ouerlayed y ^e corne, as the thousandth grain come to no profit. The field of thys flourishing realme (enclosed with the pale of safetie) was made common and cast open: wherinto entred droues of de­uouring beasts, consuming all before them, & whole heards of vnringed swyne: who digged déepe to turne vp the rootes of our conscience, by altering our earthly bodies into a firie Element.

Then the Buls of Basan ouer ran vs al, Rome tryumphed vppon our English Stage, and who but the Pope and his Prelacie? what grauing, what cutting, what caruing, and what gil [...]ing was there of Images? where no cost was too [Page 87] much, to welcome this Antichrist.

The poore Gascoigne might then haue had entertaynment, who hearing a Monke in hys Countrey preach, that when Apo Ste. Fol. Antichrist came he would bring infinite treasure with him, and to winne the hartes of the worldlings, he woulde so we gold and siluer euery where, which bountiful spéeches, made the water flow so fréely to y ^e Gascoignes mouth one of his au­ditors, as he cried, Ediu quan biera ed a quet bon Segno [...] Anti­christ. O God, whē wil y ^t good gentleman Antichrist come?

Thus this Idol had once more (with his glose of golden shew) the principal place among vs: whose worldly whelps crept out of euery corner, and like Adders that had long line hissing in the hoales of dunghils, came [...]tining abroade: And who but Maister person and his Portas? for the con­stant were crucified, the simple and weake bewitched, God in a straunge language mocked, and the lighte of Englishe prayer (the pathwaye of the ignoraunte) cleane extingui­shed.

But Christ in his mercie, beholding our sundry mourne­full mindes, who (in patience) continued al perserution and punishments, and hauing a speciall regarde to the place, of hys elect, as Saint Austine long since prophesied of vs, whē he saw certaine children to be solde in Rome, asking of what Countrey they were, was aunsweared of England, he sayde Bene dicuntur Angli, quia nitent vt Angeli, in quo regno Euan­gelium deiflorebit. So his heauenly Maiestie loking into our obedient miserie (for his owne sake) did cut off the cause of our calamities, and called our Serenissima, our moste sacred soueraigne into hir right, to reuenge his wrongs, and to redresse our general afflictions. Nowe you gracelesse Pa­pistes, that haue bene an eye witnesse to all these wret­ched woes, among your brethren and Countreymen, what true replye can you make to these heapes of enormities? If my learnyng and condition, were Diuinely, as my profession and argumentes be Naturallye (the chiefe Rules and precepts you couet to be perswaded by) I doubt [Page 88] not but I woulde (in pardon of my farre betters) so deliuer you your own ignoraunce: as eyther you shoulde yéelde to your errors, or stand mute to defend them: yet as I am (the more to your shame, that Martiall mindes can shew you, on whych foote you halt, as finely as you séeme to tredde) I must shew you that you will not sée how God performes in hyr Princely parson, the same he denyed to hir predicessors.

She hath réedifyed the wals of Ierusalem, and raysed his holy temple to the highest: not she, but God in hir gouerne­ment, hath made a brazen wal about you: hir earely rysing and late watchyng (I meane in the Image of hir honora­ble instruments) preserues you, kéepes you, defendes and protects you from all perill, you néede not languishe in vn­certaintie of life, as other nations doe: youre house is youre Castell, your Beds your Bulwarks, your goods your glo­rye, your wiues your worship and comfort, your daughters not rauished, and your selues not slaued at the tyrannous pleasure of straungers: all these blessed giftes you forget, & séeke by secrete sedition a hatefull innouation among vs.

Wisedome willeth you to loke into your owne safetie, and reason sheweth you no rule surer, thā to dwel in duety: The Lords of hir maiesties Counsel. by the one you are taught foresighte, by the other obediēce: which considered, kepte, and followed, you may triumphe a­mong good subiects. To loue God sincerely, & your Prince faythfully, is the assured protection both of body and soule: then if you offende the first, howe can you iustly say you fa­uour the last? when you know hir Maiestie only séeketh to set forth hys glorie, doe you desire the dayes of the Popes victorie (a common calamitie to your Country) which can­not be, but by the ouerthrow of our soueraign? doth priuate malice by the prouoking of Sathan so possesse you, as you are contented to commit al to hazarde? Wil you willinglye lose one eye (and doubtfull in the ende to kéepe the sight of that) to haue your Countrey made blinde? Do you thyrste for hyr death, whose life hath bene and is a safetie to vs al? you will denye it, and yet your practises approue it. What [Page 89] hope is to be had of you, when neither hir Maiesties good­nesse, nor your owne daunger can driue you from youre de­uises? They are dayly discouered, and no sooner pardoned, but a new mischief is a managing. Hir greate clemencie hitherto, must sharpen hir sword of Iustice to correct you: You brag there is no lawe to touche youre liues, and that maketh you so bold and venterous as you are. You consi­der not, that the soule is more pretious than the body: And what is not in prescription agaynste you, by the Princes fauourable procéedings, may be your destruction, by the se­crete iudgement of God. But if it were offered you, you would say with Menot: Can we be more assured of saluati­on than Saint Paule was, who was chosen by Christe, and rapt vp into the thirde Heauen: and that he sayde, I desire to be deliuered, and to be with Christ: yet when there was a question of his death, and that he shoulde dye, he appealed to Caesar: So I doubte not if death were offered you, you would appeale to the Pope. Or if any suche desperate hu­mor should possesse you (as God forbid) I trust you would send his Holinesse the same commendation the Italian dyd to the Frenche King, being [...]laine in his warres, who vt­terly forgetting God, commended both his bodye and soule to the King, saying, he had loste a good seruant of him. But to frée you from any such frensie, and the better to perceiue your true duetie: In Christian Charitie looke into thys that foloweth, where you shall sée your owne shame, which may with spéedie repentaunce mollifie your Pharaos heart, & make you reclaime your selues from your dangerous ob­stinacie. Consider the state of oure Quéenes moste royall Maiestie at the firste (a mirror within your own memorie) pace the pathes of hir Pilgrimage hitherto, and accompa­ny with discretion hir famous actes and yeares by degrées, beginning at the time when hir Princely person was in most hazard of persecution: and you shall finde howe shée hathe bin preserued, kept, continued, called, and restored: more by a heauēly prouidence, than by any mans foresight, a [Page 90] or worldly diligence.

Who was hir Bulwarke, when (lyke a Lambe among Wolues) she was wrongfully suspected, falsly accused, in­nocently committed, and the houre of hir slaughter moste tyrannously appointed? did they not séeke by all secreate sorte to haue bereaued hir blessed life from vs? But shée (moste nobly) dwelling in teares, as well for the pitifull persecution of others, as for hir owne imminent perill, ap­pealed with harte and minde to him, in whose heauenlye handes rested the redresse of all. She wofullye wepte with Hester for hir people, in whome she knewe she hadde some interest. She bewayled with Ionas in the deapth of the waues, and in the forrowe of hir soule mourned for oure di­stresse. Was it the might of man, or the prouidence of God, that (in the middest of all these miseries) deliuered hir from deuouring? Was it worldly pollicie, or the foreknowledge of his heauenly Maiestie, that wrought so mightily for hir? Your selues can witnesse, howe she was fréed from the Li­ons den like Daniel, called like Dauid to kil Golias, and pla­ced in Salomons seate, to restore the liuing child to his true mother. After hir sacred Maiestie receiued Iudiths sword, to take the head frō your Romish Holofernes, if you disci­pher all hir doinges in true order as they are, and make question of euerye point and parte of hir procéedings, the worst minded among you (though he would set aside al du­ty) cannot deny, but that hir gratious gouernement, euen to this houre, hath bin miraculous.

When she first entred the stage of hir triumph, did shée not find euery corner of this realme infected? some smoked, 1558. 17. Nouem. [...]eare. some scorched, and some smoothered, with burning of poore Martyres? were not all youre martyred men and holy Fa­thers (with moste of the better sorte) embrewed with the bl [...]ude of innocents? did not sundry of honest life and good credite (in sorrowe of heart) abandon their Countrie? was any subiect in safetie, when some were priuily pyned, some secretly strangled, and no torment (openly) left vnexecuted, [Page 91] the glorie of God defaced, Christe (in his chosen) continu­ally crucifyed, hys word vtterly banished, & the Popes trash made the best ware among vs?

In lieu of all these calamities, libertie for bondage, fayn­nesse for feare, solace for sorrow, life for death, and mercye for tyrannie, entred with hir. And where she found the holy Sanctuarie with sinne and pride p [...]luted, serued with blas­phemie, decked with Idolatrie, & adorned with all kinde of Hipocrisie: she beganne hir at the Church, and ioyning hyr manly indgemente to hir maydenlye mercie, (ayded by the highest) so purely purged it from all degrées of superstition, and that without persecution, bloud, fire, or any other force, as some of your selues, then séemed greatly to reioyce at it. Was not this a ioyefull chaunge, to be broughte from the bondage of Sathan, to the libertie of the Gospel? from the feare of Hel, to the faynnesse of Heauen? from the sorrow of our minds, to the solace of our soules? from the death of the sworde, to the life of Gods word? & from the tirannie of the Pope, to the mercie of hir Maiestie?

And such as dwelled in their obstinate error (cōfirming y ^t Apo. Ste Fo. 355. constancie of Cardinal Andreas to his holy Vicar) who be­ing in the tearms of death, and perswaded by his confessor, to honor one only God, aunswered I doe so, but that is the Pope, for séeing hée is our God on earth, and that it is an absolute commaundement for me to honor but one, I will rather worship him that is visible, than he that is inuisible: his confessor replyed that the Pope was neyther God nor Christ, although the world helde him for hys Vickar: howe so sayde the Cardinal? if you account the Pope to be onely Christs Vickar, it must then follow that Christ shoulde be greater than the Pope, and that cannot be: for if God come visibly to Rome, the Pope will not knowe him, nor receiue hym, before he haue humbled himselfe vnto him, and kissed hys Pantophel.

Accordyng to the Sermon of a reuerende Father Apo. Ste Fo. 355. at Toures, who in a brauerye sayde, these villaine Pro­testauntes, [Page 92] do vtterly reiect the Pope, and woulde haue vs to hold only on Iesus Christ: but for my part, I assure you, if they were both here present to commaunde: it is y ^e Pope aboue all that I would obey. Euen so, those headstrong Pa­pists, who continued in the like damnable determinations, and could not by milde admonition be remoued from theyr wilful errors, were (to the hoped time of a more grace) only committed, and not by rigor of death hatefullye murthe­red.

Consider the due course of all, how it was begun, con­firmed, procéeded, and how it is continued (your secret con­spiracies, and open treasons, practising to pull it downe) you can not otherwise truely saye, but that God is the sup­porter and protector of the one, and the discouerer and ouer­thrower of the other.

Thus the glorie of the almightie established, all offences pardoned, priuate malice reconciled, and a general vnitie confirmed: to shew hir motherly care ouer vs, to heape all hir blessings vppon vs, and to manifest the message of hym that sent hir, which is moste laudable peace: she established a common concorde betwéene Fraunce and this our Coun­trey 1559. hir Realme of England, to the vnspeakeable ioy and cō ­fort of al hir louing subiectes.

Since which time, what Straunge stratagemes, what Martiall mischiefes, and what vnnaturall partes haue bin practised, almost within your own view? w ^t what mourne­full Massacres, with what pitifull persecutions, hath al our eares bene daylye filled? no newes but broughte hys bloudye reporte: for fire, famine, and slaughter, was the cō ­tinuall occurrances of euerye forraine Packet. The re­membraunce whereof myghte suffice to sinke your Soules in sorrowe, to sée so manye of Christes congregation cut in péeces. If it, were cause to procure a trembling feare to any Christian harte that only heard it in what condition of cru­eltie (suppose you) dyd those innocents dwell, that endured the terrible execution of it.

[Page 93] Oh lamentable state, who preserued you, who protected you, who defended you, and who hath hitherto couered you from all these calamities, but God and our Quéene? Shée is stil in Vtrum (que) paratus: hir forsight, pierceth into all perils, she makes you hearers, and not féelers of these afflictions: she hath set you vpon a sure Rocke, to be séers and not suffe­rers of these barbarous broyles: and you forgetting all these good partes in hir Princely person, misusing hir mer­cie, and contemning your owne safetie, séeke to fall wyth Satan, to be his children of perdition, and to become But­cherly instrumentes to your brethren and Countrey. You denie to be of Caines kinred, and yet persist in the persecuti­tion of Abell, hath not that triple Crowned monster, (to whose deuotion you are vowed) set this Royall Realme, to the common sale or rather sacking, of any tyrant that dare intrude vpon vs? Is it not a manifest signe of suspition, and a plaine argument of pretexed Treason (and therefore a warning to all faithfull subiectes that loue our Soueraine, to holde you in ielousie) séeing your are vnder an othe to sup­presse hir religion? howe can you then be true to hir Maie­stie vnlesse you be false to your Maister? But it may be you are of the poore womans opinion of Perigourde, that offered one Candle to S. Michael, to the end he should doe hir good, and an other to the Diuel, to the ende he shoulde doe hir no harme. So you séeme to be Christians y ^t the Quéene may fauour you, and you honor the Pope that his curses maye not hurt you: for otherwise (I feare) there is no trust at all to be had in your duetie.

Howe much you dishonor God, breake his commaunde­ments, and blaspheme the blessed Trinitie (by your wilfull dissembling with him, who séeth the secretes of all heartes) your consciences doe accuse you, your déedes detect you, and your wordes doe witnesse and bewray (so farre as you dare vtter) the summe of that you séeke. Is it not hir Maiesties person, and (this shouell full of earth as it hath pleased them to terme it) hir Realme of England, that they haue vowed to [Page 94] correct and roote vp? Is not the sentence of their crueltie concluded and pronounced aswell vpon you as against vs? how can you then shun their sharpe tyrannie, but taste the edge of the sword with vs, if their Romish pretences should preuaile? but I doubt you would for a shift say, Non noui ho­minem, and denie both Prince and profession. Be it that the same would serue for a vizard on the sodaine to maske your Hipocrisie: in the ende you shoulde be accounted traitors, & with the hatefull horror of your conscience be accompanyed with all cursed calamities to your graue.

The most eloqu [...]nt Cicero after he had discouered the se­crete conspiracies of Catelin, before the body of the Senate and in open counsell, to his face deliuered him the deuises & driftes of all his treasons, approuing his housed practises to tend to encampe robberies, to the murthering of the nobili­tie, & to the burning of their Citie, and shewing howe hys confederates attended his comming. What cause could pro­cure swifter iustice? they knew it they had him in hand, & yet then (in Princely pollicie) they willed him to depart the Citie: supposing it more perill to haue him among them, than in the field with displayed bāner against them. Catelin a Pagan, prouoked by pouertie, kindled by priuate grudge, and heaued vp by an Ethnick hope, to better his wretched state, as a desperate man conspired against men: But you Christians, pressed with no penurie, wallowing in wealth, fréed from all cause of contention, sitting in safetie, & dwel­ling in that happie condition as no age did euer so florishe nor any of your innouation can continue the like for all de­grées, conspire against God, against your louing & most fa­uourable Quéene, & against the foyle & seate that first gaue you [...]ire and fustenance, which surely so long as you conti­nue vnder the seruitude & yoke of Papistrie, is a most true principle of your pretence.

Therefore (in the bowels of our Sauiour Iesus Christ) I humbly desire you, as brethren by one Father, seruantes to one Maistresse, and children of one moulde, to searche the [Page 95] Scriptures, to looke into the mercie of his heauenly Maie­stie, to remember hir Graces swéete and reclaiming coun­tenance to you all, and in pittie to beholde your most deare mother, on whose knées you haue bin dandled, & at whose England. breast you haue bin nourished euen from your byrth.

But if you be minded to persist in your peruerse opinions, and that no milke or meate can please your pallets, vnlesse it come from Rome: if you cannot abide the blessed light of hir Maiesties life: if you cannot endure the heauenly coun­tenance of hir ioyfull regard: or if you account hir Princely Person to be the eye sore to your sorrow: I say with Cicero to Catelin, flie to your Pope, leaue both Court & Countrey, and shunne the light of the Sunne, that so much doth dazell your sight, and let good subiectes enioy the benefite of that you are so much vnworthy of. Your owne experience shew­eth that no practize will preuaile to harme one haire of hir head whom next God you hate most: for the Lord of hostes doth kéepe hir, he hath set legions of Angels about hir, they houer ouer hir, they marche with hir, they goe before hir, and garde hir from all treasons: they make knowne your wayes, they deliuer hir your drifts, and they discouer your very thoughtes vnto hir. This you assuredly sée, that the whole course of hir Maiesties life is myraculous: and yet your Pharao like wilfulnesse will not obserue any parte of it. When you haue turned the houre Glasse of your owne errours, you shall finde how many sandes of sorrowe doth runne in mischiefe to the last minute. But God of his mer­cy make you to know him, to loue our gratious Quéene, and in the duetie of true subiectes to honour hir and obey hir, and to giue hir a Mathusa­lems age to gouerne vs. Amen.