A newe Booke called the Shippe of safegarde, wrytten by G. B.

Anno. 1569.

Imprinted at London by W. Seres.

¶ To hys verie good Sisters Mistresse Phillyp Darell, and Mistresse Fraunces Darell, of the bouse of Scotney.

OFTEN WITH MY SELFE considering (my nowne good Si­sters) your vertuous and well dis­posed minds, in these your yon̄g and tender yeares, I thought it meete (as well to shewe my good will towards you, as to satisfie your well inclined affectiōs) to take some trauaile in finding out such mat­ter, as neither I might accōpt my time vainly spent in wryting, nor you yours euill employ­ed in reading. Debating thus a whyle with my selfe what matter myght best herein serue both our turnes, I was thorowly resolued with asmuch diligence as I could to make some dis­course vpon the perfite estate of a true christi­an, an estate aboue all others most happie and worthy, if it were as well renowmed for lyfe, as it is reuerent for name, and perceyuing the lyues of Christians in these dayes so farre dif­fering from the sinceritie that is required in a Christian professour, I gaue for tytle to my Booke the counterfeyt Christian, wherein I [Page] declared the great disorders of this our tyme, as also the wonderfull vertues and puritie of lyfe, that gloriously shyned among the first and auncyent professours of Christ, whiche Booke beyng encreased to some largenesse of volume, and euen almost readie to be publy­shed vnder the patronage and protection of your two names, by yll fauourd misfortune perished. Wherwithal somthing discontented that both I should thus bee defrawded of the effect of my long trauayle, and you of that which so long and so earnestly I ment you. With a scarse quiet mind I hastily began this volume, which (bicause of the daūgers of this worlde, whereby the soule enclosed in the barke of sinfull fleshe wyth great hasard pas­seth) I named the Ship of safegarde, a Ship but rudely furnished, and God knowes sym­ply rygged, as the great haste and small tyme enforced, wanting both strength of tymber and comlynesse of proporcion, two euydent signes of an vnskilfull workeman. Notwith­standing howsoeuer it be, I dedicate it vnto you as an earnest token of my good wyll to­wardes you, not doubting but you will so ac­cept it, whervnto I had also thought to haue added (bicause I know you delight in stories) [Page] the lyues and actes of dyuers men in the pri­matiue Church, whereof I began with one or two, but bicause they were tedious, and my leisure but little, I left then and proceeded no farther. God poure vpon you his plenteous blessyng, graunt you long and prosperous yeres on earth, and after your passage from this vale of wretchednesse, euerlasting rest and ioy in the kingdome of Heauen. From Lon­don the fourtenth of Februa­rie.

Your louing brother in lawe. G. B.

To the Reader.

WHo seekes to treade that happie path▪
that leades to perfite blisse:
And faine would finde the certayne way,
that many wandring misse.
Must banish ease and bend himselfe,
to abyde both care and paine:
And seeke to conquer eche delight,
and worldly pleasure vaine.
For as the way but narrow is,
that leadeth straight to ioy:
So is it all beset with thornes,
and briers that anoy.
In eurie place are stubbles and prickes,
that stayes the feeble Feete:
And lothsome for the time it seemes,
that after prooues most sweete.
A fearefull hart refuseth quite,
to walke that painefull way:
But carefull mindes regarde not paine,
such pleasure to assay.
Both wayes before the eyes doth lye,
and view of eurie braine,
The tone both narrow sowre and sharpe,
the other smooth and plaine.
The tone doth after smart and griefe,
bring men where God doth raine:
[Page] The other after pleasures sweete,
bringes euerlasting paine:
The tone doth glifter in the eyes,
with faire and pleasant ground.
The other lothsome seemes and darke,
and scarcely to be found.
But hardest thinges experience tries,
are often found most sweete:
And high attempts for valiant hartes,
are thought of all most meete.
Thou therefore that doest minde to see:
the ioyes celestiall:
And to beholde that happie face,
that neuer perishe shall
For sake this waye that pleasant is,
at first vnto the eye:
And as a daunger foule and great,
such flattring pleasures flye.
Tread thou the path that mounteth vp,
to place where God doth liue:
And doth for euerie paine on earth,
a thousand pleasures giue.
Such pleasures as doe farre surmount,
the fading pleasures here:
As farre as doth the Sunne excell,
the Moone in shyning clere.
Faynt not for anye griefe or paine,
nor neuer wearie be:
[Page] Well may the way be passed, and God
himselfe shall succour thee.
For God doth ayde all those that giue
themselues with all their might,
To finde his wayes and courage giues
to all that well doe fight.
Against the flattrings of the worlde,
and fansies vaine of minde,
No better Capitaine canst thou haue,
nor guide of better kinde.

The Ship of safegarde

THe wandring wight that in the raging seas.
Wyth sayling Barke doth seke the happy port,
No leysure hath to giue himselfe to ease:
Ne time he findes wherein to play or sport.
Eche long delay, eche calme doth him displease,
Hym listeth not to lynger in such sort,
In nothing ioyes, in nothing pleasure findes,
Saue in the blastes of prosperous happie windes.
His carefull braine is busied euermore,
In vewyng well his Compasse and his Carde
And minding still what daungers lye before,
What swelling sands, what rocks, what Hauens barde
Wyth skilfull head he seekes the safest shore,
And the therwarde doth sayle with good regarde,
Brings home his Bark through storms & tēpests great
To happie port and long desired scat.
The vnskilfull head, and rechelesse ydle minde,
Contrariewise doth giue himselfe to rest,
Not fearing stormes nor boystrous blasts of winde,
But in the middest of daungers feareth least
And thinkes the Hauen happily to finde,
When stormes are past, and tempests cl [...]erely [...]ast,
Thus guyded euill his shyp on rocks doth fall,
And castes awaye both frayght and foole and all.
Euen so the will and fansie vayne of man,
That through this worlde his pa [...]nefull passage makes,
Who ought to seeke by all the meanes he can
Through daungers deepe, and lothsome lowring lakes,
That happie port for which his course began,
For which eche carefull minde his trauaile takes,
In thousand harmes and thousand da [...]ers preit,
Doth giue himselfe to carelesse ease and rest,
Regarding not the hasard of himselfe,
Nor taking heede his fleshly foyst to guide,
Full fraught with sin, and care of worldly pelfe,
Makes no account of wether, winde or tide,
But blindly strikes himselfe on euerie shelfe,
And in the flouds of mischiefe wanders wide,
Till on the rocks he desperately doth light,
And loseth all for lacke of guiding right.
Within the seas of fonde affection blinde,
That through the world in euerie place doth flowe,
Sayles euerie Wight that liueth here by kinde.
And runnes the race that fancie forth doth blowe,
And kepes the course that pleaseth best his minde,
With sayles full thwackt with winde and lustie showe,
But of ten thousand that thus doe brauely fleete,
Scarse ten at length doe with the Hauen me [...]te.
The Hauen faire I meane of perfite ioye,
Where chiefest pleasure hath hir biding place,
Where ioye surinounts, where griefe can not anoye,
Where liues the king of euerlasting grace,
That well rewardes eche minde that doth employe
Them selfe in trauaile to attaine that place:
And doth condemne to euerlasting paine,
All those that him forsake for pleasures vaine.
The seas be rough, the passage full of paine,
The daungers great, the iourney large and long,
The Pilots yll, the Coast is nothing plaine,
The force but weake, the enimies stout and strong,
The lets a number that labour to detaine,
And flattring showes that leades the maister wrong,
The streites of Marrocke are not halfe so yll,
Ne race of Britaine, ne Chary [...]dis, nor Scyll,
Wherefore in vaine we strine without a guide,
To passe these seas where thousand daungers [...]e [...],
With rocks and shelues beset on euerie side,
Where nought but death the featefull eye can see,
Now forced with windes, now driuen backe with tide,
Nie drownd with cares, and bet with miserie,
Amased with mists, and wandring without light,
Except we finde the helpe of holy sprite.
Which spirite that in our iourney we may haue,
With humble hart and earnest prayer made,
With knees bowed downe, his ayde here let vs craue,
That he vouchsafe to teach vs plaine the trade
Of sayling right, and from all daungers saue
Our simple soules, that through these seas must wave,
With stedfast fayth to him thus let vs pray.
That he may guide vs through this doubtfull way.
O sacred spirite that all things well dorst guide,
And bringest eche good thought to his desire,
And sufferest not no error to abide.
Whereas it likes thy grace for to inspire:
That doest for euery humble hart prouide,
And shewest the way with thy celestiall fire,
Powre downe thy grace, direct my feeble hand,
That I may shew where perfite blisse doth stand.
By thee we may be sure the way to finde,
That leadeth straight to perfite ioy and blisse,
By thee we shunne the rocks and daungers blinde.
That makes vs oft the Hauen faire to misse,
Thou onlye art the starre that guidest the minde
Unto the place where perfite pleasure is.
Giue me thy light, cast downe thy b [...]ames from h [...],
That I may show which way the course doth li [...].
The wretched seas of worldly pleasures vaine,
The mischiefes and the harmes that comes thereby,
The flattering showes, that trouble most the brayne,
The noysome lusts, and fancies there that lie,
That causers are of euerlasting paine,
And casts away the soules that trauaile by:
I will declare, and [...]ke which way to runne,
What course to keepe, what daungers for to shunne.
Within these seas, when first we enter in,
When first to winde our sayles committed bee,
When pleasantly on calmed streames we swim,
A mightie rocke lo streight at hand we see
Of massie Gold, all decked and garnisht trim,
That doth allure the eye of eche degree,
The compasse great with corners out doth lie,
The heigth whereof doth reach the starrie skie.
A stately rocke beset with Diamondes faire,
And pouldred round about with Rubles red,
Where Emralds greene doo glister in the aire,
With Mantell blew of Saphyres ouer spred▪
Where wants no stone that nature can repaire,
No pearle of price nor Jewell polished.
Another heauen for the time it seemes,
And oft for heauen foolish men it deemes.
With swelling sands it lies encompast round,
And many a ragged reach it sendeth out,
Whereby full many a thousand haue bene drownd,
Yet neuer cease they for to saile about,
In gasing still vpon this gorgeous ground,
Approching neerer not hauing any doubt,
Till on the sands with hastie course they slide,
And lose themselues vpon this piere of pride,
No greater daunger shalt thou lightly finde,
That more mishap and mischiefe more doth make,
Than this, that pluckes away the saylers minde,
And causeth him contrarie course to take.
Who forward puft with fonde vainglorious winde,
His perfite way doth vtterly forsake,
Till on the sands his Reale here happes to knocke,
And dasheth all a sunder on this rocke.
A wretched rocke that mounting to the skie,
(Contenting not himselfe with earthly spoyle)
Once onerthrew the Angels sitting hie,
And cast them headiong from their happy soyle
To darkest place where wayling now they lie,
With griefe ashamed of so great a foyle.
The chiefe estates and princes here below,
Haue [...]ke good cause this daungerous place to know.
The raging waues doth belching vpward cast
The wretched wrackes that round about doe fleets,
The silken sayles and glistering golden Mast,
Lies all to torne and troden vnder feete.
The witlesse throng of women swarming fast,
Like Parrats pied in garments farre vnmeete,
With scarfes and fethers like to souldiers brest,
With painted heare and shamelesse bared brest.
A monstrous sort of men there shalt thou see,
Not men, but deuils sure that beare the face
Of men, that neuer can contented bee
With comly garments meete, but (voyde of grace)
Forgetting quite their auncient olde degree,
To women chaunged, their manly shapes deface
With slender wastes, as Maydens most doe vse.
And frisled heare like havlots of the stewes.
With countnance coy, and forhead forced hie,
And staring top as lately frayed with sprites,
In rich attire, to feede the gasers tie,
That euermore in glistring show delights,
A sort of beasts, whose chiefest ioy doth lie,
In decking vp themselues for wondring sights,
In yelow, red, and Purple to be seene,
Sometimes like fooles in gownes of gawdy greene.
As painted tombes that stinch and filth containe,
And Arras faire that rotten wals doth hide,
So doe these fooles, with all their garments vaine,
And fresh attire drest vp in pompe and pride,
Nought else but beastly mindes and doltish braine,
Faire couered, keepe which filthie else were spide.
For vnderneath their garments glistering braue,
Lies mindes corrupt as rotten bones in graue.
A sinfull sort that wholy spend their life,
In setting out their stinking carcasse here,
Who night and daye doe passe with care and strife,
In studying how they fairest may appeare,
And wearie soone of fashions olde and rife,
Disguise themselues in newe disguised geare,
As not consisting of their proper minde,
But chaunging still as chaunged things they finde.
Flie thou this rocke and take good heede thereto,
For who so keepes this dreadfull daungerous way.
Shall run the race that him shall quite vndo,
And misse the marke by sayling thus astray,
That should him bring the happie Hauen to,
No mischiefe more doth breede the soules decay,
No greater harme can hap to mortall kinde,
Than for to run vpon this daunger blinde.
For who so once vpon the same doth fall,
Forgetteth God, forgets his owne estate,
Of good or vertue makes no count at all,
So he may liue aloft without a mate,
And for to attaine a little glorie small,
He nought esteemes of mightie Joue the hate,
Who of all other sorts can worst abide,
Such kinde of men as most delights in pride,
But to auoyde this rocke and hasard great,
Strike thou thy sayles and beare thy countnance low,
Shun sumptuous shew, regard not Lordly seat,
Nor to be knowne, seeke rather God to know,
Who being Lord and prince of glory great,
Came downe from hie, and liued on earth below
In poore attire and simple show beside,
To teache vs men for to beware of pride.
Remember still how that the loftie minde
That in this world doth seeke to glister so,
Blowne on this rocke by fonde vainglorious winde,
Fall headlong downe to euerlasting wo,
Where no release of torments shall he finde,
But as he wont in colours bright to go,
So bright in flames of fires shall he blase,
Who flamed afore for euerie eye to gase.
Be neuer prowde of what so nature giues,
For what she giues, in time she takes away,
The fairest creature, the finest wit that liues,
In shortest time we see dath cleane decay,
Away goeth all though neuer so sore it grieues,
No pleasant thing can here haue longer stay,
What follie then is it to set delight,
On fading smokes, and lose the heauens bright?
Be lowly minded, of meeke and humble cheare,
Thinke glory vnmeete for men of base degree,
Since God for pride with Angels would not beare,
Be well assured he will not beare it in thee,
To late thou shalt repent, when thou shalt see,
The sober sort most simply clothed heare
With glistring robes amongst the Angels hi [...],
And thou thy selfe with Deuils low to lie,
The griefe beside is great of troubled minde,
That in this world they often time sustaine:
As want of wealth that stops their fancies blinde,
Whereby they fare like Tantalus in paine,
In euerie place men costly clad they finde,
And they themselues can not thereto attaine,
Sometime diseases sore doth them deface,
Then farewell ioy a ground is all their grace.
The Christall Glasse wherein they wont to prie
With ioyfull hart, to see their beautie cleare,
Giues out a shape vnpleasant to the [...]ie,
Whereas their crabbed countnaunce doth appeare,
All fret with holes, where Pockes of late did lie,
Downe falles the visage then with heauie cheare,
And mourning tho, from thence apace they goe,
As men amased with some sodeine woe.
The pleasant fame for euer now is gone,
That wonted was their eares for to delight,
Of marke him well, lo yender goeth one
In whom hath Nature sought to shew hir might,
A comlier creature you can not looke vppon,
Of better fauour or framed in better plight,
Now no such sounde but scornde on eurie side,
While eche one sayth beholde the ende of pride.
Therfore take heede that in these seas dost sayle,
Let not this vaine delight deceiue thy minde,
But rather striue against it to preuayle,
And seeke the chanell of lowlynesse to finde,
Which when thou gettest, no tempest can thee quayle,
Thou needest not feare no storme nor chaunging winde,
For there is harbrow safe for eurie Wight,
That in this happy Chanell haps to light.
This daunger past, and left aleofe behinde,
Before thine eyes doth straight againe appeare,
A fowle deformed pile and hasard blinde,
That castes awaye all such as trauaile neare,
A lothsome rocke and hurtfull to the minde,
All ouer growne with mosse and rustie geare,
Deformed to the eye, yet doth allure
Of earthly men the earthy mindes vnpure.
A daungerous place that numbers doth destroy,
Of such as carelesse are of sayling right,
Whose brutish mindes haue here no other ioy,
Then on the drosse of earth to set delight,
This mischiefe great doth besest mindes anoy,
And neuer hurts the hawrie heauenly sprite,
But greedy mindes and such as are not wise,
This lothsome place is called Anarice.
A number great of wrackes here shalt thou see,
That thicke in thousands about this place dee swarme,
That neuer could aliue admonishde bee
For to beware of this so great a harme,
Nor to eschew this present icoperdie,
Suffysed no words their Gracelesse mindes to charme,
Nor no aduise could cause them sayle aright,
Till on this rocke they wilfully doe light.
With countnance pale and wan thou shalt beholde
Their carcasse quite consumed vnto nought,
Their wearish limmes with cares congealed colde,
Their bloud dried vp with sorow and with thought,
Their feeble fingars still clasping in of golde.
Desire whereof to them this mischiefe brought,
Hanged round about with bags on euerie side,
The poyse whereof doth cause them there to bide.
Upon the sands great Caskets heaped lie,
And Cofers stuft with euerie kinde of coyne,
Scraped vp by fraude and filthy vsurie,
Now here, now there, wheresoeuer they could purloyne,
By force, by fraude, or any villanie,
Of rich, of poore, of Courtier or of Cloyne,
They wey not where nor how they doe it get,
For all is fish with them that comes to net.
A filthie minde that trauailes to no ende,
But for to please the still desiring eye,
Esteemes no paine, regardes no foe nor frende,
Helpes not himselfe, nor no man else thereby,
In sparing, ioyes, and pineth if he spende,
Is neuer good vntill the time he die,
Which time he pleasures many with his hoord,
As doth the Swine when as he comes to boord,
A brutish fort that neuer can reioyce
Whyle here they liue, for carke, for feare or toyle,
Still dreaming that they heare the dreadfull voyce
Of thiefe at hand, or souldier them to spoyle,
Or sodeine death that makes of them no choyse,
But takes them hence amid their most turmoyle,
And rakes them vp in earth enclosed deepe,
Where voyde of gaine and kept for paine they sleepe.
What profites them their heapes of riches great,
For which aliue they tooke such care and paine,
Oft wanting sleepe, forbearing often meat,
With greedie minde to encrease their treasure vaine,
When lothsome wormes their carcasse vile shall eat,
And Fiendes conuay their soules to Plutocs raigne,
Kung downe to hell with Cursings of the poore,
Whose wiues and children lie weeping without doore.
What helpes the welth that doth not setue the neede?
What good doth Golde that doth but feede the eie?
What gaine but griefe haue they for all their neede?
That labour here for money till they die,
Which long kept in is spent at length with sprede,
Perhaps of him that was the enimie,
A goodly thing to pine for riches so,
And know not who shall haue them when we go.
O wretched beasts, that neuer haue no ende,
Of this your vile and couetous desire,
Why spare you thus that other folkes shall spende?
You toyle and moyle like Bayard in the mire,
Your selues to graue before your time you sende,
And so from thence to euerlasting fire,
Where you shall finde the fruites of all your gaine,
In broyling flames and neuer ceassing paine.
The poore opprest whom in this world you polde,
Your selues shall see to glister in the shie,
And call and ball to them for water colde,
To coole your heate in torments where you lie,
But all in vaine, for this you haue bene tolde,
By him that preached with Lasarus from his,
And since you would not by others harmes take heede,
Blame no man tho in like sort if you speede.
God hath himselfe declared to you before,
That euen as slow rich men to heauen flie,
And enter in as hardly at the dore,
As doth the Camell passe a Needles [...]ie.
Your burden great extorted from the poore,
Doth keepe you downe, you can not mount so hie,
The path is narrow, the gates are very straight,
You can not enter, with so great a waight.
Your factors lie not there to aunswere you,
Your bill of debt, nor no such other geare,
Nor by exchaunge you can haue nothing due,
Your double vsauce is but single there,
The trade is chaunged, the world is altered new,
Your toyie for gaine shall purchace homely cheare,
Your ten in hundreds will scarcely then amount,
When for your dealings you shall be callde to count.
A thousand actions shalbe entred there,
Against you for your fraude and vsurie,
And Lawyer none shall shew his face for feare,
Though you retaine him with his double fee,
Least that in pleading it plainly doth appeare,
His Clients cause and his for to agree,
The Judge is wise, and easl [...] can espie
If fault or fraude doe vnder colours lie.
With quaking hart at [...]arre then shalt thou stand [...],
Without aduice or any other aide,
Hie holding vp thy giltie gilted hande,
For feare of sentence vtterly dismaide,
Thy whole accompt shall throughly there be scandt,
And euerie title perfitely be wayde.
And euerie pennie how it hath bene spent,
That vnto thee for purpose good was [...]ent.
Therfore who sayleth nere this lothsome place,
Fall off betimes and keepe another way,
Haue in thy minde the Hauen faire of grace,
And from thy Compasse go not much a [...]ray,
Beholde thy Carde and keepe a perfite race,
And in such daungers make no long delay,
No ancours here beware that thou doe cast,
For ship and all will soone he layde vp fast.
If that the burden that thou [...]earst be great,
Cast ouer borde both bags and baggage quite,
Let neuer Golde thee of thy ioy defeat,
Safe shalt thou sayle and better trauaile light,
Than ouerlad [...]n to lose the happie seate,
And neuer finde the gorgeous Hauen bright,
Of rest and blisse, where free and frankest mindes
Doe shrowde their ships escapde from greedy windes.
Well mayst thou employe the riches here thou hast,
And please the king and Lorde of glorie hi [...],
If that thou makst of them no wanton wast,
[...]e scrapest them vp in Coffers close to lie,
But layst them where they may be safest plast,
Upon the poore that liue in [...]serie,
And vpon such as comfortlesse remaine,
This is the best and surest kinde of gaine.
[...]ow goodly a thing is it for to relieue
[...]hafflicted case of men with neede opprest,
[...]hom daily cares and troubled minde doth grieu [...],
That scarse can finde an houre of quiet rest,
[...]hilst thou hast thousands hanging on thy sleeue,
[...]nd spendst thy dayes with [...]elth and pleasure b [...]est,
[...]emember well, that richesse are but lent,
[...]nd nothing ours but that which well is spent.
Another mischiefe in the waye doth stand,
With ougly shape and vile deforined sight,
Encompast round with quicke and quiuering sand,
That swallowes vp all such as thereon light,
Foule swarmes of serpents crawle on euerie hand,
With gastly teeth and stings embrued with spite,
Whose hissing tongues doe yelde a filthie noyse,
A lothsome sound, a most vnpleasant voyce.
About this rocke in euerie place they [...]rall,
And shak [...] their tongues at them that traua [...]le by,
Whom enuious windes doth cause with them to fall,
And spite compelles to run their course awrie,
Most wretched guides to guide a Barke withall,
And most vnmeet [...] such daungerous seas to trie,
Who neuer ceasse till all be ouerthrowne,
Till Foyst and fraight be vnder surges blowne.
Here poysned vapors continually doe rise,
And yelling noyse and hatefull crie is hard,
The h [...]llish cloudes so da [...]e the saylers eies,
That scarce he sees his Compasse or his Card,
Except he skilfull be and verie wise,
And of his course haue alwayes good regard,
And cast about to meete some better winde,
Tha [...] may him bring vnto his port assignde.
The tide is strong that runneth thereabout,
The weather great that beates vpon the cost,
The holde [...]o weake to thinke to rid it out,
Whereby full many at ancour haue bene [...]ost,
That thought it safe and made therof no dout,
And perished where as they trusted most,
This harmfull place Detraction hath to name,
An auncient enmy to the Barke of fame.
Upon this rocke as lost and cast awaye,
All those whose tongues delight in y [...] report,
And make of slaunders but a kinde of playe,
Wherewith themselues most spitefully they sport,
Defacing quite by all the meanes they maye
Both name and fame of euerie kinde of sort,
Still charging them with this thing and with that,
And oftentimes they wo [...]e not well with what.
Of euerie man their tongue must run at large,
Nought can be sayde but must their iudgement passe,
Their oares must be a board in euerie barge,
With eche mans life they me [...], and yet (alasse)
Their owne is worst, whereof they take no charge,
Their owne deformities they view not in the glasse,
But looke in others what they finde a [...]isse,
Apace at that with hatefull tongue they hisse.
Whatsoeuer they see, or whatsoeuer they heare,
They make much worse tha [...] it was sayde or ment,
Their cancred tongues so spitefull doe appeare,
That still to yll they chaunge the good intent,
And make it darke that of it selfe was cleare,
Bicause it doth not their momish mindes content,
What likes them not must streight dispraised bee,
Their eyes be dim, they can n [...] vertue ses.
The vertuoust man that can be found alyue,
Can not escape their spitefull poysned tong,
Though that by all the meanes he can, he [...] riue,
With vertuous life to cease the rumor spron [...],
No vertuous act these Was [...]es away can driue,
But Har [...]y like they file all with their dung,
[...]n euerie table, on euerie place they lay [...]
Their filth and stinch, and all things soule araye.
Most loth some fowles that haue no other food,
But feede vpon the fame of curie man,
A filthie race, a cursed beastly brood,
Who while themselues no kinde of vertue can,
Yet in their fond and franticke furious mood,
They others spoyle of vertuous fame, and whan
They see that any seeke to liue vpright,
Their enuious harts are like to breake with spite.
This wretched sort haue swarmed euermore,
And haue continued since the world was made,
Encreasing still with poyson kept in store,
Haue neuer ceased their former cursed trade.
The godliest men in ages here before,
Could neuer cause this gracelesse sort to fade,
Doe what they could, they could not scape the sting
Of slaunderous tongues that more and more did spring.
Good Moyses olde, whose meeke and vertuous sprite,
Deserued well of eurie kinde of man,
Redressing wrong and alwayes furthring right,
Of whom a fame through all the world out ran,
In whom thalmightie Lord tooke great delight,
And patterne first of princely power began,
Could not escape this cancred currish sort,
That steynd his fame with lewde and ill report.
Reporting that he wrought by sorcerie,
Such wonders great as at that time they sawe,
And that he gouernde all by tyrannie,
Misvsing men without all right or lawe,
Oppressing poore men with extremitie,
And better so to keepe them vnder awe,
Inuented eke a fond religion vaine,
Deuised only by his suttle braine.
The righteous Job that perfite was and iust,
In whom the deuill himselfe no fault could finde,
That serued God with earnest faith and trust,
Obedient alwayes to his sacred minde,
Despised the world, despised all fleshly lust,
And neuer yeelded to affection blinde,
Yet felt the tongue and sting of slaunderous fame,
That found in him things worthy still of blame.
The holye prophetes that liued long agoe,
Like Gods on earth with vertue shining bright,
Who planted vertue where vice before did floe,
And on the heauens set their whole delight,
In teaching men the right way here to goe,
Were oft reuilde with great reproche and spite,
And counted were seditious men and nought,
And such as all things out of order brought.
That happy messenger that brought the ridings glad,
That made the heauie hart for to reioyce,
And cast away their dolefull couninance sad,
Reuiued with his healthfull heauenly voyce,
While as he preached with skinnes of Camell clad,
And brought them there of heauen happie choyse,
This cursed sort that all things wrong doe wrest,
Reporteth that the deuill him possest.
The almightie Lord that downe from heauen hie,
Amongst vs came to saue such as were lost,
In whome no sinne nor kinde of vice did lie,
All full of grace and of the holy ghost,
Relieued all that vnto him did crie,
And healed the sicke and sore in euerie cost,
For all his vertue, for all his state deuine,
Was called a glutton, a drinker deepe in wine.
What should I call to minde the lewde report,
His good disciples gat for all their paine,
The infamies that toucht that sacred sort,
That gaue their liues to encrease the heauenly raigne,
Who made of cruell torments but a sport,
And laught to scorne the Heathenish follies vaine,
The slaundrous tongues yet blased in euerie place,
How they ne had religion, God, nor grace.
What should I tell the cancred carlish spite
Shewed openly at this same present daye,
Of such as boast in Gods behalfe to write,
Whose diuelish tongues their hellish harts bewraye,
With blasphemies the heauens hie they smite,
And open mouthed with Woluish voyce théy braye,
Christ neuer taught no such vncourteous stile,
Ne seemes a Christian such lothsome language vile.
His sprite was meeke, his talke was alwayes milde,
With wordes of comfort euermore he spake,
All bitter speach from him was quite exilde,
Wherefore he bad all his example take,
And therefore he that thinks to be the childe
Of God, yll tongue must vtterly forsake,
Uncourteous speach, of heauen doth not smell,
Nay rather stinketh of the pit of hell.
The Fiends that low beneath in Limbo lie,
Condemned to perpetuall paine and shame,
This churlish speach doe vse continuallie,
And barke and banle at euerie vertuous name,
Their hellish throtes with hatefull noyse doe crie,
And still accuse the saintes of God with blame,
Malebouche their maister doth them euer teache,
With cursed speach and poysned tongue to preache.
For slaunder there is counted vertue great,
In hatefull words they most of all delight,
Foule Infamie hath there the chiefest seate,
A companied with malice and with spite,
Who drops of enuie continually doe sweate,
With hatefull show and foule ylfauored sight,
Repining still at all men that doe well,
And fearing God, doe shun the pit of hell.
But thou that seekest the happie heauenly seate,
Keepe not this course but well therof beware,
With spitefull tongue doe thou no man intreate,
Of others faults haue neuer to much care,
But of thine owne that liuest in daungers great,
Such toyle is much and well thou mayst it spare,
Of others faults what needst thou babble so,
When thou thy selfe hast vices many mo.
Let no mans life by thee defaced bee,
Take not awaye that thou canst not restore,
And looke what faults in others thou doest see,
Take heede that in thy selfe it be not more,
Report not yll, speake well of eche degree,
Encrease not griefe, but rather salue the sore,
Good woordes of all men gayneth laude and prayse,
Where as yll tongues are counted castawayes.
The gentle minde doth plainly represent,
A liuely forme of God himselfe on hie,
Whose gracious will to goodnesse alwayes bent,
Delightes in myldenesse and in clemencie,
Who chiefly framed man for that intent,
To beare some showe of sacred maiestie,
But cursed speach this picture out doth race,
And setteth vp the deuill in the place.
Auoyde this daunger, and further from it flie,
Let not such mischiefe thy destruction bee,
For feare of losing all, sayle not to nie,
The losse is great, some safer shore goe see,
Where as at ancor thou mayst safely lie,
And rest, least to much trauaile wearie thee,
In daungers great we may not run at length,
But rest a while to gather farther strength.
Hoyse by thy sayles, and giue them to the winde,
These daungers past, the fewer do remaine,
Take courage good, and shew thy valiant minde,
And wey that pleasure followes after paine,
As after troubles quiet rest we finde,
That farre surmounts our toyles and trauailes vaine,
For who so shrinkes with painfull things to meete,
Is farre vnworthy for to taste the sweete.
Sayle on thy course, and cast a carefull eie,
About thy selfe within these seas so tost,
And euer marke what perils nere doe lie,
Least that thy negligence thee dearly cost,
And sounding sure, the hurtfull places trie,
Upon the which haue thousand soules bene lost,
That carelesly with vnaduised minde,
Haue blindly folowed euery puft of winde.
Before thy face at hand thou shalt beholde,
A foule great flat most lothsome for to see,
All ouerspred with limmes and bodies colde,
And Barkes and Boates that all to broken bee,
From whence the fraight vpon the sands are rolde
And tumbled out thereon, both he and shee,
That sprawling lie vpon this wretched place,
With pitcous looke and unserable face.
About the broken Barkes doe scattred lie,
Great tunnes of wine, of euery kinde of sort,
And sumptuous tables with dishes heaped hie,
And costly bankets painted with disport,
The more to please the greedie gluttons eie,
That vnto them oft vseth to resort,
No kinde of flesh or fish there can be got,
But may be seene heaped vp vpon this plot.
All ready drest and furnisht to the eie,
With sundrie sauces the stomacke to allure,
Great platters there with wilde fowle full doe lie,
And spits full charged, that scarce their weight endure
Of deintie beasts and deintie birdes them bie,
As greedy lust can for the paunch procure,
Ech dish drest vp as best may please the taste,
With great expence and sinall account of waste.
About these dishes round attending stand,
Ech vile disease that may be named or found,
The groning gowte with shackled foote and hand,
That scarse can staye from falling to the ground,
The Dropsie pale stands shaking on the sand,
With bellie swolne that yeeldes a hollowe sound,
The Feuer hote sittes gaping here for winde,
Whose scorched tongue no taste in meate can finde.
Quotidians there and Quartans shalt thou see,
Now quaking colde, now burning all on flame,
There double, halfe, and bastard Certians bee,
Continuars and those that Hecticke haue to name,
With many more of this fraternitie,
Whereat Phisitions oft make pleasant game,
Attaining vnto treasure and to welth,
More weping golde than any pacients helth.
A number great of sicknesses beside,
With piteous face and miserable show
May euerie where about this place be spide,
That in these full fed fooles doe often grow,
As Pleuresies with torments in the side,
And iaundises in mouing faint and slow,
With falling sicknesse that foming foule doth lie,
And Apoplexies murdring sodeinlie.
Most grieuous paines and swimming in the head,
With Letharges forgetting euerie thing,
And strangling quinsies with flaming humors fed,
That many men vnto their graues doe bring,
Consuming Ptisicks long lingring in the bed,
And painfull Colicks whose griefe the guts do wring,
Both Stone & Strangurie lie here with grieuous pain,
And many more that to rehearse were vain.
This fearefull place is called Gluttonie,
Wherein great numbers haue bene cast awaye,
While as with greedie lust they sayled bie
And ran their course by negligence astraye,
Shun thou this daunger, and from this mischiefe flie,
And let not such an yll be thy decaye,
Let thousands dying there before thy face,
Example be for thee to shun this place.
A wretched vice, a sinfull crime it is,
To pamper vp the flesh with his delight,
Whereby more prone it is to liue amisse,
And more meete for to resist the sprite,
That Creature neuer seekes the place of blisse,
Nor neuer thinkes vpon the heauens bright,
That studies here his greedie lust to please;
And for to passe his time in rest and ease.
The flesh will neuer here subdued bee,
Nor made obedient to the heauenly minde,
While as we farce it vp in this degree,
With meate of euerie daintie sort and kinde,
These fine fed folkes as daily we may see,
Are bent to lust and fleshly affections blinde,
But few of them that vertuous are or chast,
That haue their guts thus inwardly bumbast.
As wood heaped vp a hie vpon the fire,
Or oyle cast in doth more augment the heate,
So doth this foule and filthie fonde desire
Of surfetting and cramming in of meare,
Encrease the flame of lecherous desire,
And makes the bodie blase with vices great,
Unmeete to follow any vertue good,
While as it is so cherished with foode.
The feeble braine with stinking vapors dased
That boyling in the stomacke vpward rise,
Astonished and vtterly amased,
Cannot aspire vnto the hautie skies,
So weake it is, and so with surfets crased,
That in the body all a sleepe it lies,
Applying not it selfe the way to finde,
For to restraine the affections of the minde.
O what a sort may at this day be found,
That only giue themselues to eate and drinke
Like brutish beasts, that grasing on the ground
Continually, of nothing else doc thinke,
What greater shame to Christians can redound?
What more before the face of God doth stinke▪
Than thus to feede the paunch continually,
That to the soule is such an enimy.
What folly greater can committed bee,
Then where we here may liue long time in heith,
With moderate diet and fobrietie,
All voyd of sicknesse that farre surmounteth welth,
We rather choose to liue in miserie,
And for to lacke both quietnesse and helth,
Esteeming more a gracelesse pleasure vaine,
Than for to keepe our bodies out of paine.
And where as nature doth well hir selfe content
With slender diet, wherein she most delights,
Of which hath God sufficient alwayes sent,
To serue our neede, and to refresh our sprites,
We neuer ceasing to feede with belly bent,
Still cramming in like greedy rauening Kites,
Both God displease, and nature quite destroy,
And for our labour lose eternall ioy.
Therefore eschew thy beastly greedy minde,
This gurmandise, this filthie foule delight,
For brutish beasts, and not for men assignde,
Helpe not the flesh to ouerthrow the sprite,
But helpe the sprite to daunt affections blinde,
So shalt thou make both soule and body light,
When both in one shall happily agree,
To seeke the skies where thou shalt blessed bee.
Eate not to much, but often vse to fast,
Both Nature biddes, and Christ commaundeth so,
Our fathers olde that liued in ages past,
Found great reliefe by this in present wo,
Who striuing long thus tamed their flesh at last,
And ouerthrew by this their deadly fo,
Whyle as forbearing meate and sinne withall,
With feruent prayer on God they vsed to call.
A vertue great is abstinence no dout.
Of euerie man to be esteemed much,
A helping hand to them that goe about,
The sacred skies with heauenly minde to touch,
No better fence to keepe the deuill out,
No greater force, no ayde nor succor such,
Phisitions count it Natures chiefest frende,
And God himselfe doth highly it commende.
Beare of therefore and come not neare the place,
That all embrued with Giuttons bloud doth lie,
Whose soules in hell in miserable case,
With piteous plaint and howling noyse doe crie,
Lamenting sore their former lacke of grace,
While here they led their life licenciously.
When as thou hast escaped this ieoperdie,
Before thy face againe thou shalt descrie
A gorgeous Ile, an earthly paradyse,
Wherein there wants no kinde of pleasant sight,
No glistring show, nor costly fine deuyce,
That may encrease the trauailers delight,
All garnisht round with things of greatest pryce,
The sight whereof reuiues the gasers sprite,
Doth please the eye, and doth allure the minde
Of men that thinke safe harbour there to finde.
Of compasse large, and full of beautie faire,
The sightly show doth lie before thy face,
Which seemes as Nature there had set hir chaire,
And chosen that hir happie resting place,
From whence there comes a sweete and pleasant aire,
That farre surmounts the Amber Grece in grace,
With musicke sweete and pleasant heauenly sound,
That round about doth in the aire resound.
The Cliues are hie, and all of Chrystall shine,
Upon the top where of in order growes,
Hie hautie trees with maiestie deuine,
That glistring greene farre of in shadowes showes,
There stately stands the lostie Lordlye Pine,
With Ceders placed and Firre trees set in rowes,
Thick groues of Mirtels comly to be seene,
With couerts close of pleasant Laurell greene.
Beyond these same are mountaines rising hie,
Clad round about with trees of diuerse kinde,
That placed in order much delight the eie,
And thither draw the saylers wandring minde,
Who thinke they see these hilles to touch the skie,
In vewe whereof they pleasure great doe finde,
There round about in euerie place below,
Faire purple Roses ioynde with Jasmins grow.
In euerie place may beautie there be seene,
In euerie place is pleasure for the eie,
Throughout the woods and pleasant forrests greene,
Great flocks of birdes of euerie sort doe flie,
Of colours straunge and seldome to be seene,
That sit and sing vpon the braunches hie,
With curious note and skilfull melodie,
Agreeing all in perfite harmonie.
No lothsome sight doth any where appeare,
No thing disordred any kinde of waye,
But all things shining there with beautie cleare,
Alluring vnto pleasure and to playe,
That they that once doe chaunce to trauaile neare,
Haue neuer minde to come from thence awaye,
Such pleasure streight they doe conceyue in minde,
As no where else saue there they thinke to finde.
And round about in euerie place they meete,
With shalls of Mermayds swimming here and there,
Whose beautie great and pleasant singing sweete,
So daunts the eyes and eares of them that heare,
That maruaile is it if they hold their feete,
From flying ouer to that lustie cheare,
Their beautie is such, their voyce doth so delight,
That with their tongues they conquer euerie wight.
Such is the force of this their melodie,
That long time since and many yeares ago,
The wise Ulysses when he passed eie,
Being tossed on seas and beaten to and fro,
Desirous for to heare this harmonie,
And to escape the daunger and the wo,
Stopped vp his seruants eares with waxe, and fast
Caused them to binde himselfe vnto the Mast.
Thus sayling forward neere this pleasant place,
With wished windes and all thing seruing meete,
These Merinaydes faire appeared before his face,
With shining countnance and voyces passing sweete,
There sundrie songs they song with comly grace,
And with their dities diuers did him greete,
Their sweete accord and passing princely sound,
Did from the waues vnto the skies rebound.
Which found when as Ulysses streight did heare,
Could not restraine the affections of his minde,
But lowde he calles with griefe and troubled cheare,
And willes his men with haste him to vnbinde,
Thus calling out and crying neuer the neare,
He wrests and wries all meanes he may to finde
To vnlose himselfe, and striuing all in vayne,
He beates his head against the Mast amayne.
His wisdome great, could not his fancie guide,
Ne rule his minde, nor bridle his delight,
But if at libertie he had bene then vntied,
He would haue lept amid that pleasant sight,
And felt the fruites of pleasure at that tide,
Though it had cost him the losing of his sprite,
But being fast bound he could not haue his minde,
Till sayling past it was to farre behinde.
From top of one of these same mountaines hie,
That in this Iland loftily do looke,
A riuer gusheth downe continuallie,
That through the valleys here and there doe crooke,
Which seemeth pleasant to the saylers [...]i [...],
That often couets to enter vp the brooke,
Supposing there to finde their full delight,
Of all this gaye and gorgeous glistring sight.
Which riuer while they passe, on euerie side,
Walke Damsels faire with beautie passing braue,
Amid the Medes with sundrie colours dide,
Of flowers fresh that fragrant odors haue,
Wherof fine garlands about their heads are tide,
These oftentimes with wanton gesture waue
The passengers, alluring them to land,
With countnance sweete and becke of pleasant hand.
Not farre from thence vppon a stately roche,
Is placed strong, a sumptuous tower hie,
That doth amase the mindes that neare approche,
With beautie great that glisters in the [...]i [...],
The stately wall doth set their hart a broche,
And makes them in their course with haste to hie,
Who hoyse and hale with all the force they haue,
To run themselues vpon this pleasure braue.
For as the walles doe glister all of golde,
So are the windowes all with Chrystall glased,
Whence looking out the sea men may beholde,
Such sundrie shapes as makes them all amase [...].
And makes them curse the time a thousand folde,
That euer vpon such beautie bright they gased,
For in the end as many as there doe light,
Tormented are in miserable plight.
First taken out from out their ships they bee,
And stripped quite from all their owne aray,
And blindfeld close, so that they can not see,
Away from thence these Damsels them conuay,
Unto this pyle and tower of soueregntie,
Which seemed late to them so sweete a play,
Upon whose gates is written thus in sight,
The resting place of fleshly fond delight.
Here are they brought before this sumptuous Queene,
Who guider is and ruler of this Ile,
Who when she hath these wretched [...]aytif [...]s seene,
At whom with ioye she scornfully doth smile,
With cruell minde and voyde of mercie cleene,
Condemnes them all to paines and torments vile,
And sundrie sentence giues on euerie one,
As seemeth best vnto hir selfe alone.
Some are condemned, their eyes set open wide,
Upon the colde and stonie ground to lie,
With monstrous chames and heauie shakles tide,
Both day and night to stare continuallie
Upon the beautie that is them denide,
And call for helpe vnto their enimie,
Who pleasure takes and ioyeth at the hart,
To see their cruell torment and their smart.
Some others caried forth into the wood,
With chaines are tied and fastned to the trees,
Their harts all bare and dropping downe with blood,
Their hands held vp and kneling on their knees,
Are torne with Kites and Pies and Rauens wood,
That neuer time from feeding there doe leese,
But griping still the poore afflicted hart,
Continually augment their paine and smart.
Another sort fast in that order tide,
With torments great and miserable paine,
Against their harts a wounde made open wide,
Wherein is thrust the creature almost slaine,
[...]te burning coales that readie lie beside,
Which kindle streight about the hart amaine,
The wound closde vp they flame continually,
And secret burne vntill the time he die.
Some sort againe by charmes enchaunted straight,
Forgo their shapes, to beasts transformed quight,
Wherein vpon that Queene they still doe waight,
Somtime like Swine, and Asses oft in sight,
Somtime like Buls or Beares that dogs doe bayte,
Somtime like Lions and Tigers fierce in [...]ight,
Such force ha [...] fleshly pleasure in this Ile,
To alter those whom she doth thus beguile.
Yet notwithstanding continually they striue
The saylers by, who first may come a land,
With all their sayles clapped on apace they driue,
And haue no feare of any shore or sand,
But while they trauaile on these seas aliue,
From foule delight they neuer turne their hand,
But forward sayle with greedie lusting minde,
Till torments due to their deserts they finde.
Alasse how great and worthie a companie,
Haue here bene lost and clearely cast away,
Whose wits deuine of worthie memorie,
Are talked of yet vntill this present daye,
Who had escaped ech other miserie,
If on this same they had not run astraye,
Their vertues rare had alwayes glistred bright,
If that they could haue shunned this foule delight.
The mightie Hercules that liued long ago,
Whose worthy actes deserue immortall fame,
Who spent his dayes in anguish and in wo,
Not bent to pleasure, nor giuen vnto game,
But following vertue for which he trauaylde so,
That still he shunned eche thing that longde to shame,
Could not escape this dreadfull daungerous place,
But lost himselfe thereon in piteous case.
The subtill wit and iudgement aye profound,
That painted vertue liuely to the eie,
Who shewed the harmes and hurts of vice v [...]sound,
And opned plaine the place whereas they lie,
The selfe same man that once such fauor [...]ound,
Of Delphos that he gat the soueraintie,
For wit and vertue passing euerie man,
Upon this Ile yet wretchedly he ran.
A thousand such in stories olde we finde,
Of sundry like our sacred volumes tell,
That ran amisse vpon this fancie blinde,
For lacke of good aduise and g [...]iding well,
Yea though they wholy did applie their minde
To euerie vertue, yet on this vice they fell,
Example he with Uries wife that lay,
And ek [...] his sonne that further ran astray.
Amongst the daungers of these harmfull seas,
No daunger like to this there comes in sight,
That more doth worke the passengers disease,
Or driues them more to shewe their force and might,
Nor no men more the almighty Lord displease,
Than these that happen on this place to light,
Wherefore we ought with heede and carefull ei [...],
Farre off from hence with might and maine to flie.
And often wey the myschiefe that will ryse,
If that we leaue our happy course to keepe,
For vaine delight that here [...]eludes the eyes,
And bringeth men in restlesse rest a sleepe,
Nay rather let vs these flattring showes despyse,
And seeke to scape this guife of daunger deepe,
Which for a litle trifling pleasure vaine,
Doth bring vs vnto euerlasting paine.
Direct thy ship and course another way,
And still remember how happie they shall bee,
That haue not falne vpon this Ile astray,
Where fleshly ioyes and foolish fancies bee,
But do [...] themselues with all their might assay,
To finde the port of true felicitie,
Eschewing euerie storme and troublesome winde,
That blowes contrarie to their vertuous minde.
And wey the paines and torments they shall haue,
That giue themselues to follow foule delight,
And breake the lawes that God to all men gaue,
How they shall wayle and howle in piteous plight,
When that their carcasse comth once to graue,
Their sinfull bodie seuered from their sprite,
Which sprite shall neuer feele release of paine,
As long as God doth in the heauens raigne.
Though that the motions of the flesh be much,
And though that nature herein beare some sway,
Yet ought the force of reason to be such
In man, as well may put such toyes away,
The minde deuine must neuer so basely touch,
Such things vnpure as may be hir decay,
But mount alo [...]t with wings vnto the s [...]ies,
Where perfite ioy and perfite pleasure lies.
For earthly ioyes and fancies are vnmeete,
For such as God appointes with him to liue,
Who ought to abandon all such pleasures sweete,
As vse wherof may them offend or grieue,
And take good heede whereas they set their fete,
Not euerie show, nor euerie path beleeue,
But only walke in that appointed way,
That God himselfe before their eies doth lay.
And flie the pathes, though that they pleasant seeme,
That he hath here forbidden to be trode,
And cast away all fonde affections cleene,
The weight whereof the soule so sore doth lode,
That languishing vpon the earth with teene,
Constrained is it there to make abode,
And neuer can aspire vnto the skie,
For heauie weight that doth vpon it lie.
And as Ulysses passing by this place,
Where Mermayds flocke whereof we spake before,
Whose sugred songs with sweete and louely face,
Did seeke to traine him to that deadly shore,
Did giue himselfe with wise and heauenly grac [...] ▪
For to withstand this l [...]wd and flattring [...],
Compellde his men to binde him to the [...] ▪
Whereby with speede this daunger great he past.
So in these seas of pleasures least we quaile,
We ought to binde our wills to reason strong,
As to the Mast that beares our chiefest saile,
That guides vs best thorowout this iourney long,
So shall not all these flattring showes preuaile,
So shall we scape this poysned d [...]adly song,
That hath bewitched so many vertuous eares,
And brought them vnto torments and to teares.
But if there doe such punishment remaine
For those which while they vertuous seeke to bee,
Doe fall into this lake of pleasures vaine,
Whereby they come to greatest miserie,
Condemned vnto euerlasting paine,
Where gastly shapes and hellish sightes they see,
Shutout for euer from that beautie bright,
That farre surmounts eche other kinde of sight.
If those I say, such torments haue to taste,
What plagues are due vnto that sinfull sort,
That both with minde and beastly tongue vnchaste,
Of lothsome vice doe make a play and sport,
And where they ought not spende a word in waste,
Their shamelesse mouths wheresoeuer they doe resort,
Doth vtter out the filthiest words they can,
Without respect of eyther God or man.
Contenting not themselues with wretched deedes,
Alone to passe away their sinfull race,
But with such wordes as filthily proceedes,
From out their hearts defiling euerie place,
With lothsome showe as stinking noysome weedes,
That freshest flower in gardens doth deface,
So doe these beasts with tongue and talke vncleene,
Defile eche thing that fairest may be seene.
With beastly wordes that all of baudrie sound,
These Rascals vile themselues doe most delight,
Corrupting mindes that otherwise were sound,
With speach vnpure, and wanton gesture light,
Wherein they are skil [...]de as in their arte profound,
Whose [...]ongues doe teach their vile vnsauerie sprite,
Their shamelesse tongues while as their acts they tell,
Doth cause to blush the deuill himselfe in hell.
Most wretched creatures y t lead your liues with shame,
And die like beasts in miserable plight,
The paynes of hell is ende of all your game,
Eche damned soule shall fe [...]le his torment light,
While as they lie in neuer ceasing flame,
Respecting yours who for your foule delight,
Farre passe them all in torments and in paine,
This is your end and your assured gaine.
Let this suffice to giue thee warning here,
That saylest neere this lewde and daungerous place,
Though that the beautie faire at first appere,
Thou seest the ende how that in wretched case,
They plagued are and buie their pleasure deare,
Regarde thy selfe and seeke for better grace,
And stay not gasing, nor venter thou to neare,
It is not good with daungers for to play,
Leaue off betimes and sayle another way.
And take good heede, for straight before thy face▪
Amid these seas another daunger lies,
That bearing vp his head a little space,
Aboue the water, oft deceiues the eyes,
Upon the which haue died in wretched case,
A number great of men accounted wise,
The show is small that doth appeare a hi [...],
The chiefest daunger doth vnder water li [...].
The top whereof is smoothly polished,
And doth not threaten hasard with the show,
By which haue many Mariners bene led,
To trauaile neare the state thereof to know,
Who with their ships yllfauoredly haue sped,
While as their Keeles haue toucht the rocke below.
And all to torne a pieces forced to flie,
Their maisters sprawling on the surges hie.
The lustiest Mariners haue bene drowned heare,
Whose Barkes haue borne the brauest port on seas,
For lusty show and stomacks voyd of feare,
While as they sayled which way them best did please,
Who counsayle none, nor no aduise would heare,
For warning good did euer them displease,
Still trusting to their owne deceyued wit,
From whose aduise they would not stirre a whit.
Ne cast they here themselues away alone,
But cause great number more their course to misse,
Perswading them that neare vnto this stone,
Doth lie the way to euerlasting blisse,
Assuring them that daunger there is none,
And that themselues are well assured of this,
By which vaine words they cause the simple men,
To cast away themselues by following them.
This daungerous place that hath so many lost
And thus beguiled, is called Heresie,
A hurtfull place, a most pernicious cost,
A wofull rocke, a wretched ieoperdie,
Which oft hath hurt and quite consumed almost
The Nauie faire of Christianitie,
Which gorgeous fleete had long time since bene drent,
If mightie Ioue had not them succour sent.
Who pitying them of his accustomed grace,
When as they were with stormes and tempests tost,
And euen at point to fall vpon this place,
Where as they had bene altogither lost,
Lamenting as it were their wretched case,
To see them die that him so dearely cost,
Rebuked the winds, and tooke the helme in hand,
And brought them safe vnto the assured land.
A happie guide in these so dreadfull seas,
Whose blessed aide if all men carst had sought,
With humble minde in seeking him to please,
And setting all their owne deuise at nought,
They had not purchased thus their owne disease,
Nor wretchedly themselues to mischiefe brought,
Ne had they left behind them such a fame,
As hitherto the world resound with shame.
Cherinthus had not cast himselfe awaye,
Upon this rocke in miserable plight,
Nor Eutyches had passed this wretched way,
If seruing God had bene his chiefe delight,
Nonatus had not sayled here astray,
Nectorius had not on this mischiefe light,
Nor Arrius with his Arrians here had dide,
Nor all the swarme of Manicheys beside.
With thousands more that here I loth to name,
Who might haue scaped this dredfull place full well,
That brought them vnto euerlasting shame,
And threw them headlong to the pit of hell,
Whereas they waile in neuer ceassing flame,
And for their sinnes continually doe yell,
If that they had sought this safe assured aide,
And vnto him for helpe had alwayes praide.
Take thou good heede that trauailest hereby,
Least that thou fallest vpon this hurtfull place,
Beware of schisme, beware of heresie,
And pray to God continually for grace,
That he may keepe thee from this miserie,
And bring thee safe vnto the resting place,
In giuing thee a quicke and watchfull eie,
Whereby thou mayst such couert daungers flie.
Looke well about and trust not euerie sprite,
That seemes to teach the safe assured waye,
Be well assured he teach the way aright,
Or walke not thou else after him astraye,
The deuill himselfe can seeme an angell bright,
The simple soule the ea [...]ier to betraye,
But Christ hath left you here his scriptures plaine,
A touchstone true to trie religion vaine.
By these examine euerie prating sprite,
By these go trie what vnto thee is tought,
Let these be iudge who teacheth wrong or right,
Let these discerne the good things from the nought,
Of these in darkenesse borrow all the light,
Of these still let thy wauering minde be tought,
So shalt thou well be able thy selfe to trie,
Where shadowes false, and where deceit doth lie.
Beleue not those same slaundrous mouthes vntrue,
Who make report how that the bookes deuine,
Corrupted are with false translations newe,
Of only malice these enuions beasts repyne,
They see the spirite of God will them subdue,
That in these sacred letters bright doth shine,
And therefore for to bring them in contempt,
These slaundrous lyes maliciously they inuent.
As he that late such needlesse paines did take,
In culling out the faults he could espie,
Of euerie tittell straight accompt doth make,
In noting where he thinkes they run awrie,
And as he thought profoundly thereof spake,
But if thou shalt his worthy iudgement trie,
Thou well shalt see his fonde and foolish braine
Hath taken all his trauaile here in vaine.
Beside, another marke there is to know
These wretched sprites that leades men thus to hell,
Though clad in pelts of sheepe they simple show,
And many tales of God and heauen tell,
Yet malice doth their mindes so ouerflow,
That all things can they not dissemble well,
Their bloudie teeth doth still appeare in sight,
Wherewith like wolues continually they fight.
Example one amongst a number more
Let Arrius be, who whilst he here did raigne,
Of torments great and tortures had in store,
Wherewith he put true Christians still to paine,
With sundrie deaths not heard off oft before,
And griefes that newly sprang from cruell braine,
As splintars sharpe of reedes which sore did pricke,
That in their fingers twixt nayle and flesh did sticke.
That diuelish minde that reigneth now in hell,
Doth still enuy the happie state of man,
And since the time that first to earth he fell,
Doth labour still by all the meanes he can,
To cause them all in paines with him to dwell,
Whose cursed children as their sire began,
Continue still with rancour and with heate,
To persecute that happie heauenly seate,
Chrysostome he that long agoe hath tride
These brittell seas and searched euerie place,
Who had good proofe of euerie winde and tide,
And well could sayle to finde the port of grace,
Declared which way these people might be spide,
That thus deceyue in miserable case,
And gaue plaine token how we well should know
These Barks of schisme that on these seas doe row.
Did euer yet, sayth he, the simple sheepe
With bloudy mouth the greedie wolfe pursue?
Not once: But rauening wolues doe neuer sleepe
From hunting them. So Cain poore Abell slew,
Not Abell him, so Ismaell Isaac true
Did persecute, not Isaac him. The Jewe
Thus troubled Christ, and heretikes alway
True Christians killde, their fruits doth them bewray.
Thus plainly doth this skilfull father olde
Conclude, that such as beare such hatefull minde,
Against the flocke, and happie harmelesse folde
Of Christ, still following them with malice blinde.
To be the Wolues, of whom our Sauiour tolde,
And heretikes of most pernitious kinde,
The Wolfe by rauening euermore is tride,
The Heretike by crueil minde is spide.
Then since thou mayst full well discerne this yll,
Sayle farre from thence and steare aduisedly,
And guide thy selfe by good and carefull skill,
So shalt thou misse this fearefull ieoperdie,
Giue not the reines nor bridle vnto will,
But make it subiect to the motions hie,
So shalt thou saue thy selfe from daunger great,
And sooner finde the happie resting seat.
Yet once againe thou needest to take good heede,
For here abouts an Iland faire doth lie,
That to the saylers mischiefe great doth breede,
That flames farre off like Phebus in the skie,
Which glistring sight the gasers minde doth feede,
And doth allure them for to trauaile nie,
Perswading them some worthie sight is there,
That so encompast is with shining clere.
In euerie place here Pyramides do rise,
With costly stones compact of gorgeous show,
Whose stately tops doe seeme to touch the skies,
The bases square are framed faire below,
With such proportions as pleaseth best the eies,
In order placed, and standing row by row,
Adourned braue with torches flaming bright,
That seeme to spoyle the day it selfe of light.
A thousand altars garnished here doe stande,
With cloth of golde and Purple passing faire,
And fiers burning hie on [...]u [...]rie hande,
Where Incense cast doth cause a pleasant aire,
Which smelling sweete a great way from the lande,
Doth cause a number thither to repaire,
On euerie altar Images appere,
Of sundrie Gods that people worship there.
There Saturne stands with enuious countnance sad,
And next to him hath Jupiter his place,
And Uenus smiling faire with beautie glad,
And fuming Mars with hote and fierie face,
Apollo there with glistering beames is clad,
And Dian with hir siluer shining grace,
Swift Mercurie amongst them here doth stande,
With flickring wings and golden red in hande.
Great Bacchus here is placed with maiestie,
And neare to him Dame Ceres may be seene,
And Proserpine that low beneath doth lie,
And Juno once of heauen counted Queene,
And Berecynthya mother of the skie,
With Flora clad in lustie youthfull greene,
Here Castor ioynd with Pollux faire doth stand,
And Esculapius with his snakes in hand.
On other aultars ioyning thereto neare,
A number great of pictures placed bee,
That monstrous to the lookers on appeare,
As one that portred is with faces three,
An other killing dragons with a speare,
Another holding in his hand a tree,
And wading ouer riuers easilie,
With monstrous legs and shoulders shamefull his.
But most of all that makes men there to muse,
There standes a saint in straunge disguised sort,
To take it for a man or woman you may chuse,
For of them both it seemes to beare a port,
Arayed in gownes as women most do vse,
A Lettice ca [...] it weares and bearde not short,
And thus disguised in straunge and mas [...]ng Cotes,
Esteemes no other offring here than Otes.
A number great of such straunge pictures vaine,
Here mayst thou see, of whom I list not tell,
That vnto Priests haue alwayes bene a gaine,
And led such as them worshipped vnto hell,
The Meschyts here of Mahomet remaine,
And all his saints to whom the Turke doth yell,
As Uanus and Sedichasis, that victorie doth bring,
With Mircschinus and Ascichum & Chidirell the king.
Before ech Image stand Tapers burning bright,
And odors sweets doe fume continually,
The people kneeling round about in sight,
With hands helde vp and voyces lowde doe crie,
Eche one complayning of his wretched plight,
And seking there redresse of myserie.
Doe call vpon their goddes with feruent minde,
Supposing thus a perfite helpe to finde.
This daungerous place is called Idolatrie,
Whereon are lost the Turkes and Paganes all,
That hither fast in monstrous flocks doe flie,
Not fearing mischiefe that may them befall,
And numbers great of Christians here doe die,
That leauing Christ on Idols fast doe call,
With great despite vnto the almightie king,
That this detests aboue all other thing.
For nothing doth so much the minde offende,
Of that most sacred maiestie deuine,
Nor nothing makes him more his plagues to send,
Than when he sees his seruants to decline
From seruing him to seeke another frende,
And setting vp an Idoll in his shrine,
This more doth him displease assuredly,
Than any whoredome, theft or robbery.
Him liketh to be worshipped alone,
With earnest minde and with vnfeyned hart,
Who worships him must worship others none,
It is not meete for any to giue part,
Of honor due to him, vnto a stone,
For who so doth is like in the ende to smart,
In feeling paines and torments to them due,
That worship false and fained Gods vntrue,
This only cause did make him oft forsake
His chosen flocke the auncient Israelites,
Who though with mouth he often to them spake,
Appointing to them sacred lawes and rites,
Yet euermore his ordinances they brake,
And worshipped sundrie false and lying sprites,
In euerie groue, on euerie woode and hill,
They Idols placed contrarie to his will.
For which he often gaue them ouer quite,
Into the hands of cruell enimies,
Who delt with them in miserable plight,
Still vexing them with terror and with tyrannies,
Of ech man vsed with foule and great despite,
Compelde to suffer thousand kinds of cruelties,
Accounted slaues and abiects clearely lost,
That earst of all men were esteemed most.
For this poore Christians often times haue felt,
The vsage vile, and force of Turkish hands,
That many yeares haue lowly with them delt,
Depriuing them of children, wife and lands,
Since first the seruice of Idols out they smelt,
Which brought them to captiuitie and bands,
Decayed their vertues, and lost their auncient fame,
And made them to the world an open shame.
Therefore beware, and shun this filthie place,
Let Paule thy Pilot be vpon these seas,
Who sayth Idolators shall neuer see the face
Of God, nor finde the ioyfull port of ease,
For Idoll seruers are quite depriued of grace,
And by no meanes the almightie Lord can please,
Such kinde of seruants only he desires,
As seeke to serue him as himselfe requires.
All other seruice he esteemeth as vaine,
And most he hates such fond religion blinde,
As is deuised by dreame of foolish braine,
That worship only doth delight his minde,
That he himselfe hath taught in scriptures plaine,
To this his seruants doth he straightly binde,
He suffers them to honor this or that,
But plainly hath himselfe appointed what.
Serue thou him therefore as he liketh best,
With all thy hart, with all thy minde him loue,
Let him be hi [...]st alwayes in thy brest,
Take heede that none be placed him aboue,
Esteeme no creature so aboue the rest,
That loue thereof shall him from thee remoue,
For that beside is foule Idolatrie,
To loue a worldly thing excessiuclie.
Not only Imageseruers haue the name,
Of blinde Idolatours, but euerie such▪
That inwardly with feruent loue doth flame,
Esteeming fading fancies here to much,
Preferring them before all feare or shame,
As those whose minds the loue of God doth teach,
Or beautie faire of s [...]me excelling dame,
These kinde of loues when in the hart they lie,
Are foulest kindes of vile Idolatrie.
Farre of from this see therfore that thou flie,
If that thou meanst the hauen faire to finde,
For who so toucheth on this same shall die,
In su [...]ring shipwracke through his follie blinde,
Refuse this course, and sayle forth happily,
Keepe well the [...]orfull hauen still in minde,
Whose pleasures great shall fully thee reward,
For all thy paines and all thy trauailes hard.
Another daunger lies there in thy way,
That seemeth good and safe vnto the eie,
Whereat a number great of ships doe stay,
That here are lost or put in ieoperdie,
With colour false of good it doth betray,
And cloked faire doth cause men trauaile bie,
And most allures such men as seeke for fame,
Hypocrisie this mischiefe hath to name.
A rocke but soft and simple to the eie,
That pleaseth much the minde of worldlye sight,
Whereas disce [...]te doth closely couered lie,
Which hindreth men from trauailing aright,
The place is large and riseth some thing hie,
Upon the top whereof in open sight,
There stands an Image couered all of stone,
That there was placed many yeares agone.
Which Image here I would describe to thee,
But that long since it hath bene painted plaine
By learned Chaucer that gem of Poetrie,
Who passed the reach of any English braine,
A follie therefore were it here for me,
To touch that he with pencell once did staine,
Take here therefore what he therof doth say,
Writ in the Romance of his Roses gaye.
¶ Another thing was done their write,
That seemed like an Hypocrite,
And it was cleped Pope holye,
That ill is she that priuilye,
Ne spareth neuer a wicked deede,
When men of hir taken none heede,
And maketh hir outward precious,
With pale visage and pituous.
And seemeth a simple creature,
But there nis no misaduenture,
That she ne thinketh in hir courage,
Full like to hir was thilke Image,
That maked was byt hir semblance,
She was full simple of countnance,
And she was clothed and [...]ke shod,
As she were for the loue of God,
Youlden to religion,
Such seemed hir deuotion,
A Psalter helde she fast in hande,
And busily she gan to fonde,
To make many a faint prayer
To God and to his saints deare,
Ne she was gaye, fresh nor iolliffe,
But seemd to be full intentiffe
To good workes and to faire,
And thereto she had on a haire,
Ne certes she was fat nothing,
But seemed werie for fasting,
Of colour pale and dead was shee,
From hir the gates aye warned bee,
Of Paradyse the blissfull place,
For such folke maken leane their grace,
As Christ sayth in his Euangile,
To get their price in towne a while,
And for a little glorie vaine,
They lesen God and [...]ke his raigne.
Thus hath the golden pen of Chaucer olde,
The Image plaine descriued to the cie,
Who passing by long since did it heholde,
And tooke a note therof aduisedly,
Unto his fellowes of that age it tolde,
And left it [...]ke for his posteritie,
That ech man passing by might plainly know,
The perfite substance of that flattring show.
An enmie great vnto the Christian fleete,
Is this foule rocke of false Hypocrisie,
That vs de [...]riueth of the pleasure sweete.
And brings our soules to greatest miserie,
A lothsome vice, a wretched crime vnmeete
For men professing Christi [...]nitie,
Eschew it then and farre off from it flie▪
Let not such blinde affections bleare thy e [...]e.
Seeke rather good to be, than good to s [...]me,
Seeke so to liue as thou doest here professe,
So shall both God and man thee best esteeme,
So shalt thou perfit [...] Christian life expresse,
What good doth it when m [...]n thee godly deeme,
And thou thy selfe art full of wickedn [...]sse,
Although thou mayst dissemb [...]e for a while,
Yet canst thou not no long time God beguile.
His eie doth still disc [...]rne thy inward thought,
Thy secret dealings well he doth beho [...]de,
And all thy deedes in hucker mucker wrought,
At length before the world he shall vnfolde,
To what a miserie shalt thou then be brought,
When all thy fauite shall openly be tolde,
When all thy filthie vices there shall smoke,
That here were hidden vnder godly cloke?
Christ hath vs taught for to abhorre this crime,
When as he cursed the Scribes and Pha [...]isies,
Who seemde the godliest liuers at that time,
All garnished outward with Hypocrisies,
As though they daily [...]aff [...] by s [...]affe did clime,
By godly life vnto the hautie skies,
Whereas their harts were full of hellish sprites,
And they themselues most cursed Hypocrites.
O what a number at this present day,
Doe swarme in e [...]erie towne, in euerie place,
That God be thanked, and God be praised can say.
With gesture mylde and feyued godly grace,
Who crouching low before men fast can pray,
As if that God himselfe should stand in place,
And yet for all this show for a [...]l this goodly geare,
Disceitfull knaues at length they doe appeare.
Beguiling men that put in them their trust,
Oppressing poore men by straunge and sundrie way [...]
Without all conscience, in word nor deede found iust,
Yet would they seeme as though they God did prayse▪
In seruing him according to his lust,
Where as in deede these cursed Castawayes,
Doe neuer worship any God in minde,
But alwayes serue their owne affections blinde.
O sinfull beasts what meane you thus to deale,
Thus couertly before the face of God,
Be well assured you can not long conceale,
Be well assured you can not sca [...]e his rod,
Your wretched deedes in time he shall reueale,
Your sinfull life shall once be blasde abrode,
Your mas [...]ing garments that you so long haue worne,
Shall all be r [...]nt, and from your shoulders torne.
Your painted visard shall be plucked away,
Wherewith so many here you did deceaue,
And all your curious counterfe [...] aray,
You shalbe forced against your will to leaue,
The Purple garments wherein you long did playe,
By which your honour here you did receaue,
Shall off be plucked, and all things else beside,
And then the bare arsed Ape shall plaine be spid [...].
Sayle thou not neare this wretched cursed place,
That s [...]ekest the happie hauen for to finde,
Crie out to God and call for better grace,
Commit thy sayles vnto a better winde,
Eschew the looke of false dissembling face,
Use vertue alwayes with vnfained minde,
So shalt thou sooner finde the port of blisse,
That cursed Hypocrites assuredly shall misse.
Now veer thy sheates, hale vp thy Mainsayle hie,
Aduaunce thy tops, hang out thy flags abroade,
The greatest daunger hast thou trauailde by,
And neare thou art vnto the happie roade,
The other perils that in the way doe lie▪
May well be passed, and well be ouertrode,
For none do perish heare in any place,
But such as are both voide of wit and grace.
Cast feare away, and take a lusti [...] hart,
Reuiue thy spirites with gladnesse and with ioy,
Cheare vp thy minde, and comfort euerie part,
Remoue ech griefe that may thy sense anoy,
For neare vnto the hauen now thou art,
Where pleasure dwelles and euerlas [...]ing ioy,
Whereas thou shalt the almightie father see,
The spring and head of all felicitie.
Although these daungers that hereabout doe lie,
Doe neuer hurt the godly carefull minde,
Yet for their safeties that here shall trauaile bie,
I briefly willl declare their names and kinde,
That sooner so they may such mischifefes flie,
Not running rashly on th [...]s [...] mischiefes blinde,
But keeping still the safe assured seas,
They sooner may finde out the port of ease,
The first and worst of these same daungers great,
Is blasphemie, a foule and filthie crime,
Which barketh still against the heauenly seat,
And most offends the maiestie deuine,
With fearefull othes sworne out in furie great,
Of Reprobates the most assured signe,
The damned sprites continually doe sweare,
Without respect of any godly feare.
Next this hath carlish crueltie the place,
A mischiefe that doth hellish mindes assayle,
With lothsome looke and foule and deadly face,
Whereon a number great of ships doe quayle,
That wanting gentle windes and voyde of grace,
To neare this dreadfull daunger hastily sayle,
Whereas they leese themselues in wretched plight,
And neuer finde the blisfull hauen bright.
Then hatred showes his hurtfull head aloft,
A hatefull harme, and hurtfull vnto many,
Which ouerthroweth the suttie sayler oft▪
And drowneth deepe the spitefull companie▪
Who while they deeme the bed of malice soft,
Doe rest themselues vpon this miserie,
Brought here a sleepe with fonde malitious minde,
They neuer seeke the hauen faire to finde.
Here Murder all embrued with blond doth stand,
That giues vnto the eye a fearefull sight,
On top whereof wi [...]h shaking sword in hand,
Is Furie placed, a foule deformed sprite,
Who suffers none to attaine the happie land.
That once vpon this mischiefe happes to light,
The Fiend himselfe that guides the damned raigne,
First found this place and hither brings his traine.
Hereby stands theft a foule and foolish yll,
That doth allure the greedie gracelesse minde,
Traynde vp from youth in witlesse wretched will,
And robberie, sister to this vice by kinde,
May here be seene about hir swarming still,
These iustic blouds that here will soner finde
A pound, than lose a penie willinglye,
Who riding here at oken ancour lye.
Not farre from thence stands sinfull sorcerie,
A mischiefe founded by the deuill first,
With charmes enchantments and astrologie,
The practisers whereof are all accurst,
And ioynd with this, stands infidelitie
Togither linked as of all other worst,
The one thinkes all things by the starres are donne,
The other that all at randon here doth ronne.
To this apace our learned maisters hie,
That teach vs what shall happen yeare by yeare,
And what sore plagues are threatned from the skie,
As famine, warres and other pituous geare,
Great learned Clarks and such as seldome lie,
As by their worthy doings doth appeare,
Who faine would be esteemed cunning men,
While as they steale the fruits of others pen.
Now last of all two daungers great appeare,
Betweene the which thou canst not choose but run,
Therefore thou must looke circumspectly here,
As other saylers heretofore haue done,
Sayie iust betweene them both, sayie not to neare
To any of them, for strong the tide doth run,
And often driues the herdlesse Earkes thereon,
That in the middle safely might haue gon.
The one of them with lofty looke doth rise,
And seemes to touch the place where saints doe dwell,
All blacke the other lies before the eies,
The plateforme plaine and Image right of hell,
There shalt thou heare continuall shrikes and cries
Of damned soules that pitcously doe yell,
And lothsome showes and shapes doth eke appeare,
Of cursed sprites that houer here and there.
Presumption hath the one of these to name,
That makes men like their doings here to well,
The other Desperation full of blame,
That throwes men headlong to the pit of hell,
To mischiefes great that mans destruction frame,
And makes men low with damned sprites to dwell,
These are the hurts that in these seas doe lie,
Regarde them well and warely from them flie.
Remaineth nothing for thee nowe behinde,
But gracious markes that leade the sayler right,
That comforts much the godly vertuous minde,
And teacheth them to finde the port of light,
Passe thou by these, so shalt thou surely finde,
The chiefest succour for the werie sprite,
For who so runnes by these shall neuer misse,
The hauen faire of euerlasting blisse.
The formost of these sure and happie guides,
Is earnest Prayer that giues a goodly show,
And keepeth safe the Barke from troubious tides,
That moued with helitsh tides contrarie flow,
In safetie here the wandring vessell rides,
Whatsoeuer hap, what winde soeuer blow,
Though deuill, world, and flesh against it striue,
Yet vnder sayle it safely here may driue.
A thousand happy hands may here be seene,
Helde vp with hart vnfeyned vnto the skies,
Washed in the waters of repentance cleane,
And purged pure with teares of weeping eies,
A thousand tongues from mindes that well doe meane,
Yeelde vp to God their feruent suites and cries,
At morning, noone and night continuallye,
Here shalt thou see them on their faces lye.
The next is Peace, a quiet happie place,
Where as no strife nor rancor can be found,
Rest thou thy Barke within this roade of grace,
And trauaile for to touch vpon this ground,
They alwayes come to good that run this race,
Thou needest not here for feare of daunger sound,
For those that here most peaceably remayne,
Haue daily traffique with the heauenly raigne.
Hereby doth Loue another beautie stand,
That brings thee streight vnto the rode of rest,
And poynteth out directly with hir hand,
The perfite way by which thou mayst be blest,
No harmfull Boate may euer here take land,
But only those that please the almightie best,
And seeke to sayle according to his will,
This Loue doth all the hestes of God fulfill.
Next Mercie stands, a goodly marke and plaine,
That leadeth streight vnto the blissfull port,
And is possessed of the heauenly traine,
And most frequented of the vertuous sort,
Who doe not thinke the words were spoken in vaine,
Wherewith our Sauiour did the Jewes exhort,
Assuring those that mercie shewde to men,
That mercie should be shewed againe to them.
Not farre from hence may Pacience plaine be seene,
The Bulwarke strong against all iniurie,
The souereigne Ladie and most victorious Queene,
In trouble, toyles and worldly miserie,
Which euermore assuredly hath beene
The Buttresse chiefe of Christianitie,
By which the soules of vertuous men haue saylde,
That neuer yet in storme or tempest quaylde.
Here liuely Faith may well discerned bee,
The chanell safe that leades to heauenly blisse,
Whereby the Fathers olde attainde to see,
The hauen faire and port of perfite blisse,
This made the Martyrs flame in such degree,
That life they weyed not in respect of this,
By which they knew assuredly to finde,
The blissfull place conceyued in their minde.
These are the markes whereto thou must take heede,
By these thou mayest thy selfe in voyage guide,
If that thou seekest luckily to speede,
To passe the flattes and scape the raging tide,
Upon this course haue Mariners agreed,
That long time since these seas haue fully tride,
No other way they here haue left behinde,
Whereby we may the happie hauen finde.
Sayle therfore as the perfite course doth lie,
And run the race that is to thee assignde,
For who so runneth otherwise awrie,
The hauen faire of blisse shall neuer finde,
But drownde in seas for euermore shall die,
With torments great and death of dreadfull kinde,
Where they that kepe the course that Christ hath tought
Shall vnto euerlasting ioyes be brought.
Here would I playne set out before thine eies,
This happie place, wherein thy Barke shall rest,
What show it hath, and in what sort it lies,
But that it can by no man be exprest,
That place of ioy aboue the starrie skies,
Appointed only for the godly and blest,
By any wit can not be throwly scand,
Ne can be blasde by any mortall hand.
The ioyes are such as cannot here be tolde,
No pen can paint, nor tongue can tell the kinde,
The gorgeous sight that saints shall here beholde,
Surmounts the reach of any earthly minde,
And passeth aye a hundreth thousand folde,
The sweetest pleasures that in thys world we finde,
No eye hath seene, no eare hath euer harde,
The ioyes that are for godly men preparde.
Applie thy minde to seeke this happy place,
Put all thy strength and all thy force thereto,
Call vnto God continually for grace,
As Christ hath taught, seeke alwayes for to doe,
Set alwayes him and his before thy face,
So shalt thou come the blessed hauen to,
So thou thy selfe with eyes shalt plainly see,
What ioy, what pleasures there preparde bee.

[...]

The death of S. Polycarpus Bishop of Smyrna, and disciple to saint Iohn. Euseb. lib. 4.

WHen fierce Alecto moued the mindes
of gracelesse wicked men,
To persecute the sacred Church
of Christ beginning then,
And all the furies breaking loose
from hell with cancred spite,
Did seeke by all the meanes they could,
to quench that heauenly light,
The poore afflicted Christian flocke
was spoyled on euerie side,
And euerie woluish tongue and tooth,
in bloud of saints was dide.
Ech vertuous man tormented was,
and godly men were slaine,
And hauocke made of holy harts,
with hatred and disdaine,
The worthie father Polycarp,
a man of auncient yeares,
With aged countnance beautified,
and deckt with siluer heares,
Was sought for now and followed fast
with foote of cruell foe,
No place of safegard left for him,
nor path of peace to goe,
In euerie place was watch and warde,
and spials out were sent,
By bloudie suite to ouerthrow
and trap the innocent,
But he not moued with all this rage,
In quiet doth remaine,
[Page] Accounting life and pleasures lost,
for Christ his chiefest gaine,
Yet following counsell of his frendes,
vnto a secret place,
He doth depart, and quietly
remaining there a space,
With humble heart doth call to God,
and prayeth continually,
For christian Church, his friends and such
as liue in miserie,
For thus he vsed euermore
throughout all his life to praye,
Continuing with his godly friends,
in prayer night and daye.
Thus three dayes hole in prayer past,
he takes at length his rest,
And whilst vpon his bed he lies,
with quiet sleepe possest,
Him seemeth in his dreame hee sees
the Pillow all on flame,
That round about encompasseth
his head vpon the same,
Which blasing round about the bed
with firie countnance bright,
In little time as thought him then,
consumes the Bolster quight,
Awaking from this fearefull dreame,
He lifteth vp his hed,
Declareth that this vision straunge
of firie flaming bed,
Doth plainly show that shortly he
must lose his life in fire,
And leaue his aged limmes in flame,
for Christ his chiefe desire,
Yet once againe at friends request,
from thence he flies away,
[Page] In seeking out some couert place,
the safer for to pray,
Yet ceaseth not the tyrants foote
for to pursue him still,
But ransa king in euerie place,
the guilt [...]esse bloud to spill,
Findes out at length the happie house
wherin this father good,
Had entred for to scape the hands
of Sathans cursed brood,
The day was almost at an ende
and sunne declining fast,
Upon the foming Occean seas,
his eyes began to cast,
When as the cursed Catchpolles found
this sacred secret place,
They make no more, but vp they hie,
with swift and hastie pace.
A Garret was there placed aloft,
where as this vertuous man,
Lay quietly vpon his bed,
not fearing daunger than,
The aged father riseth vp
and meetes his enimies,
With countance comly to beholde,
in sweete and pleasant guise,
Whereat the messengers amased
doe wonder verie much,
That such a worthie father olde,
of grace and goodnes such,
Should thus be sought for in this sort
by cruell tyrannie,
And well deseruing long to liue,
should thus vntimely die.
His youth in vertue alwayes spent,
his age in honor led,
[Page] Deserued with better quietnesse,
to rest his horie head,
But he not weying force of man,
nor cruell enimie,
Embracing tokens true of death,
determineth to die.
Such was his loue to Christ his Lorde,
that through this vale of strife,
By death he rather followes him,
than him forsakes for life.
No torment of the tyrants hand,
nor feare of cruell smart,
Could once amase his vertuous minde,
nor daunt his sacred hart,
He willes them straight to lay the borde,
and for to bring him meate,
And to his foes as to his friends,
Appointeth ghestly seate,
Desiring them but libertie
to pray an houres space,
Which once obtainde he falleth downe,
and groueling on his face,
In such a comly sort he prayes,
that all that present stood,
[...]mased were, and euen those
that sought to shed his blood,
To take him there repented much,
that they had trauailde so,
In hunting for so good a man,
of force commaunded tho,
They soried much that they should take
and bring to cruell paine
Do sweete a seruant of the Lordes,
so vertuous and so plaine,
His prayer fully finished then,
His tine was now at hand,
[Page] Upon an Alse they hoyst him vp,
and compast with their bande,
They lead him toward the citie streight,
vpon the Sabboth day.
Thus in his iourney trauailing,
there meetes him on the way,
One Herode that Lieutenant was,
Nicetas eke with him,
That father of this Herod was,
and causing him come in,
Unto the chariot where they sat,
still passing on their way,
They him perswade to cast off Christ,
and on this sort they say,
What hurt or perill can it be,
what yll can thus arise,
In calling of the Emperour God,
and offring sacrifice.
Lo this is all that thou shalt doe,
what matter great is this?
What fault can herewithall be found,
what thing is here amisse?
By doing thus thou sauest thy life,
and all thy friends shalt please,
And spend thy aged yeares in rest,
and passe thy time in ease.
These words with silence first he heard,
and as they yet proceede,
What needes more words than these, saith he,
I will not doe this deede,
Ne will I call your Emprour God,
nor offer sacrifice,
In vaine you me disswade, my minde
is settled otherwise.
Offended with this aunswere much,
they both began to frowne,
[Page] And with despite from out the Coche
they threw him headlong downe,
The fall did hurt him verie sore,
but nothing him dismay,
For chearfully as voyde of hurt,
he holdeth on his way
Unto the place where he should die,
beset on euerie hand,
With swarmes and throng of people rude,
that gasing on him stand,
Whereto as soone as he was come,
this voyce from heauen fell,
Be of good comfort Polycarpe
and keepe thy conscience well.
No kinde of thing coulde there be seene,
yet many heard the voyce
That louing him and fearing God
did much thereat reioyce,
The beastly people raysed at him
when as he came in sight,
And blasphemed God, defacing him
with words of great despight.
Thus brought among these gredie wolues
the simple sheepe doth stand,
The Judge commaunding silence streight,
with lifting vp his hand,
Demaundes if that be he that Po­lycarpus
hath to name,
Whereto he boldly aunsweres him,
I am the verie same.
Then of thy selfe haue some regarde,
good father olde, sayth hee,
And haue respect vnto thy yeares
and to thine owne degree.
Thy reuerent age deserues good lucke
cast not thy selfe away,
[Page] But worship thou the Emperour
and wish him well aiway,
And crie away with all such beasts
as doe no God regarde,
Then turning to the people streight,
and willing to be harde,
Olde Polycarpe with frowning looke
and hand held vp to skies,
Cries out amaine away with such
as God doe here despise,
The Ruler speaking still and seying,
loue Cesar with thy hart,
And blaspheme Christ, then shalt thou at
thy pleasure hence depart.
I haue, sayth Polycarpus, serued
Christ fourescore yeares and more,
And vnto mee in all this space,
he did no hurt wherfore
Should I then him blaspheme that hath
bene all this while my frende,
Whose blessed ayde from euerie harme,
did alwayes me defend,
I can not serue him in such sort,
that hath so friendly delt
With me through all my life, by whom
I haue such goodnesse felt,
I am a Christian I confesse,
a Christian will I die,
Come paine or ioy, come death or life,
I will it not denie,
And if thou seekest the happie state,
of Christians for to know,
Their whole beliefe, and vertuous sect,
I plainly will thee show,
Whensoeuer thou shalt appoint the time.
Nay sayth the Judge, declare
[Page] Before the people present here,
in all things how they fare,
Quoth he, I haue thee answerde full,
in scriptures are we tought,
To giue you Rulers honor such,
as vnto you we ought,
We worship Princes euermore,
as Gods Lieutenants here,
And them obey, so that they bid
not things repugnant cleare
Against the lawes of God himselfe,
but for to come taccount,
Before these raging people rude,
whose madnesse doth surmount,
Their senselesse wits, it is no part
of mine I you assure,
Nor neuer will I doe it wh [...]st
my life doth here endure.
Wild beasts here haue I quoth the Shrife,
whereto thou shalt be cast,
Then let them lose sayth he, my words
shall stand as they haue past,
I can not chaunge from good to euyll,
more meete this sinfull brood,
Should leaue their lewde and beastly life,
and chaunge from euill to good.
Well quoth the Shrife offended much
and boyling all in ire,
Though thou regardst not force of beasts,
thou shalt be burnt with fire,
Thy aged bones and werish lunmes,
consumde to coales shall bee,
And life (the fruite of thy contempt)
shall passe in flame from thee.
Thou threatnest me (quoth he againe)
with feeble fire and vaine,
[Page] Which as it quickly kindleth here,
so quickly dies againe,
Not knowing of the dreadfull flames
that burne continually,
Prepared for the wicked sort,
that here in sinne doe die.
But wherefore seemest thou thus to stay?
put beasts or fire to me,
With torments I nor fearefull sights
can neuer moued be.
These words and other like to these
him Polycarpus tolde,
With ioyfull looke. The Shrife amased,
to heare his aunsweres bolde,
A Baily to the people sent,
and willes him to proclaime
That Polycarpe had thrice confest
himselfe a Christian plaine.
Which when the multitude had heard
of Jewes and Gentiles vaine,
That present were with furie great,
thus crie they out amaine,
Lo this is he that doth seduce
all Asia round about,
The father and the chiefest guide,
of all the Christian rout,
The great defacer of our Gods,
who teacheth not to make
Nor offer sacrifice, but Gods
and goodnesse to forsake.
This sayd, they crie for fire streight,
and here and there they run,
And ech man busieth much himselfe,
to see the slaughter done,
And woad from euerie place they bring,
and reedes in order laye,
[Page] And pile vp fagots fast thereon,
with all the hast they may,
And thus the stake is streight preparde,
the father brought thereto,
With willing minde and ioyfull hart,
his garments doth vndo,
And stripes himselfe into his shirt,
while as the standers by,
Doe driue in staples to the stake,
the safer him to tie,
These chaines, quoth he, are needlesse here
for he that me doth make
To abide the fire, shall giue me grace
to stand vntide at stake,
Wherewith they let the chaines alone,
and tie him slenderly.
With little Hempen cordes that were
prepared speedily.
Thus like a Ram drawne from the flocke
for sacrifice he stands,
And to the heauens casting vp
his eyes and holy hands,
These words with feruent mind he spake,
O God of power deuine,
That Father art of Jesus Christ,
by which deare sonne of thine,
Of thee the knowledge we attaine
thou Lord of Aungels all,
Of powers and strengths & euery wight,
that vnto thee doe call,
The only God of righteous men,
to thee great thanks I giue
That thus thou hast permitted me,
vntill this day to liue,
Whereby of Christ thy only sonne,
I shall a witnesse bee
[Page] With whom I trust, and thorow him,
thy blessed face to see,
The chiefest comfort of my soule,
and longing of my sprite,
Wherein eche poore afflicted hart,
doth set his whole delight,
A pleasing sacrifice I trust,
I shalbe vnto thee,
That doth respect the louing hart
and minde of eche degree,
My soule through flames to thee I yeelde
that art my only light,
Receiue it Lord and graunt it rest,
before thy sacred sprite,
Euen as thou hast appointed, and
determind long ago,
Ech thing thou hast performed here,
and all things ordred so,
O God thou righteous art and iust,
deceite is none with thee,
Therefore I render thankes and prayse,
vnto thy maiestie,
Through Jesus Christ the eternall God,
thy deare and only sonne,
Whose presence here to iudge the world,
I trust shall shortly come.
To whom with thee and the holy sprite,
be prayse both now and then,
And laude and glory yeelded vp,
for euermore. Amen.
No sooner had he done but that
These wretches voyde of grace,
Thrust fire in on euerie side,
and kindling it apa [...]e,
The flame a loft beginnes to mount,
and threates the hawtie skies,
[Page] With crooked compasse to enclose,
the martyr standing there,
Whose bodie seemed to giue the showe
of golde in fornace cleare,
From whence beside there round about
a pleasant odor past.
As if some Baume or Frankincense,
had bene in fire cast,
The sinfull sort perceyuing thus,
the body to remaine
Untoucht of fire, and that their toyle
and trauaile was in vaine,
Doe straight commaund the hangman with
his sword to thrust him in,
Wherwith the bloud with purple streams
apace begins to spin,
And gusheth out so fast abrode,
that euen the raging flame
In diuers places of the pile
was quenched with the same,
The people all amased, depart,
the corse neglected lies,
The soule reioycing at this day,
vnto the heauen flies.

A Priest of Apollo straunge­ly conuerted. Euseb. lib. 4.

VPon the Alpes those stately mountaines hie,
Sometime there stode a gorgeous temple faire,
Whereto the people vsed commonly
To heare the doome of Phebus to repaire,
[Page] Wherein there liued a Priest of passing fame,
Who vsed to keepe the altars trim and fine,
And well could cast the sacrifice in flame,
And order all things in their course and time,
It chaunced that here passed by this way,
One Gregorie, a christian Bishop olde,
Who entred in whereas this person lay,
And lodged there all night to scape the colde,
Good entertainment gaue the Priest him tho,
And vsed him well according to his guise,
And tolde him all in order so and so,
How Phebus there was serued and in what wise,
What numbers great did seeke him day by day,
And what great store of people round about,
Were satisfied when as they came that way,
And answerde full to euerie kinde of dout,
The next day when the sunne doth giue his light,
The ghest departs and biddes his Host adew,
And thanks him for his lodging that same night,
And prayse good lucke of their acquaintance new,
Unto the Church the Priest in haste doth hie,
And offers vp his costly sacrifice
He downeward falles and on his face doth lie,
And prayeth to his God in humble wise,
And counsell asks of diuers weightie things,
What best for to be done in this or that.
Whilst of his prayers thus the temple rings,
This golden God that on the altar sat
Ne spake a worde, nor gaue him any signe,
Of prayers heard as he before had done,
His tongue was tide he could not now deuine,
What happened had or what thing was to come,
With countnance sad the Priest doth home depart,
And museth at this straunge and sodeine chaunce,
Laments the case with mourning heauy hart,
And fares as one beside himselfe in traunce,
[Page] Thus heauily he spends the day away.
And when the night with shadow darke was come.
And time for euerie man to goe to rest,
While on his bed he doth begin to [...]ome,
Lo streight appeares his God all rudely drest,
With ernfull looke and thus to him he spake,
What meanst thou thus to vexe thy troubled sprite,
For pleasing me whose force is now so weake,
That scarsly can I holds my selfe vpright,
That wretched ghest whom thou this other night
So entertaynst, hath me thus soule disgraced,
Hath stayed my tong, and wrought me this despite,
By whom for euer am I cleane defaced,
Nor in my temple can I lenger set,
Nor aunswere thee as I haue done before
Except of him thou licence for me get,
Thou knowest my staye, torment thy selfe no more,
The Priest awakes, and soone he leaues his bed,
And followes fast his late departed ghest,
Treades our the path which he before did tred,
And panseth not, nor doth entend to rest,
Till he him find, whom soone he ouertakes,
An̄d humbly doth him of his helpe require,
And true report of euerie thing he makes,
What dolefull chaunce hath happened in his quire,
And what mishap vnto his God befell,
And how his gaines are gone from him thereby
With ruthfull looke amased doth he tell,
Beseecheth him to helpe him speedily,
And to restore to him his God againe,
Which otherwise would be his great decay,
If that he should with silence thus remaine,
He willes him to remember that same day,
Wherein he werie to his house did come,
How that ech friendship then that in him lay,
Hē shewed him there, and how ech thing was done.
[Page] The gentle ghost his Host doth not forget
But for to shew him frendship like againe,
Unto the paper straight his hand doth set
And thus he writes in letters faire and plaine,
Unto Apollo Gregorius greeting sendes,
I giue thee leaue, doe as thou didst before.
With this he makes his Hoast a full amende,
Who thanketh him with all his hart therefore,
And home he comes as fast as he may [...]ing,
And of his Church the doore he opens wide,
And vnto Phebus doth the letter bring,
Upon the Altar layes it him beside,
The Idoll streight beginnes againe to prate,
And answere giues as he was wont to doe,
And prophecies of his and his estate,
Of subtile oracles disclosing one or two,
The Priest beginnes to alter his intent,
And to himselfe he mutters in his minde,
That this straunge power is only to him lent,
And graunted by some force of hier kinde,
He deemes his Gods authoritie but small,
That thus is ruled by a mortall Wight,
Nor lenger meanes he vnto him be thrall,
That is obedient to another sprite,
He takes his letter and hies him thence apace,
And biddes both Church and God adew for aye,
Comes streight to Gregorie, and telleth him the case,
And prayes him for to shew him plaine the way,
By true religion to worship God on hie,
And doth repent his former wretched trade,
And all his life spent in ydolatrie,
Wherein he list not lenger for to wade,
Thus falling flat on ground before his feete,
The other gently doth him there receaue,
And showes the effect of [...] ▪
[...] to [...] ▪
[Page] Who after that he had a while profest,
The Christian law, and sweete religion taught,
Tooke such delight therein that all the rest
Of fancies vaine he left and set at naught,
Embraced Christ, and serued him faithfully,
And in such sort that when this Gregorie di [...],
As Pastor chiefe his roome he did supply,
And happily his happie flocke did guide.
FINIS.

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