THE TRVE SVBIECT TO THE REBELL.

OR THE HVRT OF SEDITION, HOW GREIVOVS IT IS to a Common-wealth.

Written By S r IOHN CHEEKE Knight ( Tutor and Privy-Councellour to King EDWARD the sixt) 1549.

Whereunto is newly added by way of Preface a briefe dis­course of those times, as they may relate to the present, with the AUTHORS life.

OXFORD, Printed by LEONARD LICHFIELD, Printer to the Vniversity. Anno Dom. 1641.

THE PREFACE.

THis Discourse of the Hurt of Sedition, was not intended by the Author as a Prophecy for any fu­ture times, but meerely occasioned by the sad story of those present distractions, wherein he had no part but as a Spectator. If it be now thought any way lyable to an application, that must be imputed to the com­mon fate of humane affaires, quibus inest quidam velut orbis: & quemadmodum temporum vices, ita morum vertuntur. For upon this common Stage of the world, though the Actors change daily, & have their last Exits after which they return no more; yet there is a continuall recurrence of the same Page­ants, parts and humours to be represented by other persons, Vitia erunt donec homines. Covetousnesse and ambition, and such active vices are seldome off the Theatre, though they doe as seldome appeare there in their own faces, but with the bor­rowed masks of publique good, the honour or peace of the State, the propagation or reformation of Religion. Privatae causae pi­etatis aguntur obtentu, & cupiditatum quis (que) suarum religi­onem veluti pedissequam habet. The meanest capacities are not unskilled in these ordinary artifices: consult the storie of those times under EDWARD the VI. and you shall meet with insolent demands from some rebellious subjects against the forme of religion then established by Act of Parliament: [Page] others you shall finde sitting under their Oake of Reformation upon the life and death of all civility and learning. Against both which our Author directs his reasons. This contagion was so spreading, that I finde twelve severall Shieres infected with it, and almost forty thousand persons, a great number, but yet no army. They had all the advantages which they could de­sire except a good cause, and an able Leader. They met with a young Prince, in the beginning of his reigne; with a late and great alteration in religion, which was never observed to goe alone; with a many secret jealousies and envyings in the Nobi­litle, which after burst out into open defiance; with a generall aptnesse to mutinie in the vulgar, who had been formerly Te­nants to religious houses, and complained now as well of new Lords as now Lawes; with an universall stupor & lethargy in most men of the long Robe, which were lately frighted out of a great part of their wits as well as their meanes: many of them so unable to instruct others, that it seemes they had scarce ordi­nary discretion to governe themselves. The very Universities, which had been the glory, were now become the scorne or pitty of the Kingdome; their Libraries robbed and spoiled either by pretended authority, or connivence; their liberties and privi­ledges invaded and borne downe by the prevailing parties, the Townes-men of Oxford and Cambridge. Much of their pre­sent maintenance, and the maine hopes of their future prefer­ment taken from them: at least in their opinion, when they saw most or all the revenues of their Colledges given to the King; some Bishopricks actually dissolved, & the whole jurisdiction enclining to a ruine. This did strike them with such a Panick feare as did justly deterre parents from bestowing upon their children that ingenuous education which was attended with so great charges and so small hopes. And such as were already entred upon that way, were forced to quit their professions & betake themselves to another kinde of life. Insomuch that I find one house of learning in Cambridge pitifully complaining, that the great dearth of things, and the litle charitie of men had driven away more good wits from that one Colledge [Page] then were left in the whole Vniversitie. The words are part of a Letter from S t Iohns Colledge to the Duke of Somerset Lord Protector. In which there are so many other things con­siderable, that I cannot forbeare to trespasse so farre upon the Readers patience, as to exhibit some what more to the same purpose. Having represented to his honour two other dome­stique calamities peculiar to that House, they descende to a third, of which they say, Diu nos pressit, in miram angustiam compegit, & in extremam conditionem non nos solùm sed reliquos omnes studiosos detrusit. Quae illa est? Durissima caritas omnium rerum vendibilium. Augetur pretium om­nium, pecunia nostra non augetur. Quomodo olim duode­cim denarris, nunc non licet vivere viginti. Qui authores sunt tantae miseriae? Dicemus, & domino monente ac de­monstrante dicemus. Suntilli qui domum ad domum con­jungunt, qui rapinas pauperum congerunt, qui fructum eo­rum rarissimè comedunt. Haec dicit Dominus per Esaiam Prophetam, nos apertiùs loquemur. Sunt illi, qui hodie pas­sim in Anglia praedia Monasteriorum gravissimis annuis redi­tibus auxerunt. Hinc omnium rerum exauctum pretium: hi homines expilant totam Rempublicam. Villici & coloni u­niversi laborant, parcunt, corradunt, ut istis satisfaciant: hinc singuli coguntur singulis imponere, & universa Respub. gravissime premitur. Hinc tot Familiae dissipatae, tot Domus collapsae, tot communes mensae aut jam nullae aut in angu­los & latebras conclusae. Hinc (quod omnium miserrimum est) nobile illud decus & robur Angliae, nomen inquam Yomannorum Anglorum fractum & collisum est. Et haec etiam miseria maximè redundat in authores ejusdem. Quo­tusquis (que) enim est Mercatorum Londinensium, (hi homines hanc miseriam mirificè concitârunt) qui non angustiùs, tenu­iùs, & pressiùs his temporibus vivit, quàm cùm passi sunt alios homines vivere? In nullam partem Reipub: majori impetu invasit hoc malum quàm in rem literariam: reliqui homines ita liberi sunt ut possint quaerere sibi vitam; studiosi non quaerunt, sed quaesitam recipiunt: quae si augetur, hoc fit [Page] non operâ illorum, sed bonitate aliorum. Postremò, debet pecunia nostra, aut major esle, quod cupimus; aut caritas rerū minor esle, quod per Te fore speramus; aut fructus stu­diorum minimus erit, quod maximè omnium metuimus. Haec tanta caritas rerum & haec nulla Charitas hominum in­tra hos paucos annos expulit ex hoc uno Collegio plura op­tima ingenia, quàm nunc sunt perfectè docti viri in tota A­cademia: nec solùm expellit praesentes, sed aufert unà eti­am universam absentium spem. This & much more to this purpose, from that learned Colledge. And the whole Vniverfity in their many publique letters to most of the Nobility then in Parliament doe runne much upon this straine. I shall give a tast of one or two. First to the Lord Marquesse of Northam­pton, whom they desire to be a means that learning may bere­stored to her ancient honour, and good wits allured to it by some new hopes. And proceed thus, In hoc Parliamēto (nisi val­de fallimur) veram Religionem restituetis. Divinum profe­ctò consilium, & nosunà Deum rogamus omnes, ut ne ve­stigium quidem Papisticae faecis in ulla parte Religionis, quae­cunque illa fuerit, ampliùs resideat. Sed ignorantia quid? tol­letur ex omni populo. Quorum industriâ? doctorum. At ubi sunt? in Academiis. At quot requiruntur ad ignorantiam ex Anglia relegandam polliceri quidem nos non audemus. At plures quotidiè illuc confluent. Quâ spe? honore artium? nullus fere est. Expectatione praemiorum? sed illa & rara sunt & exigua sunt. Nomine & honestate literarum? Quo lo­co nunc jacent literae vel ignari omnium literarum facilè a­nimadvertunt. Et qui posthac docti erunt? pauperes? At hic non diù manent propter inopiam. Sed divitum filij? at hi minùs, vel propter alterius vitae expectationem, vel litera­rum his temporibus obscuram conditionem. Sed parentes ut filij sui instituantur literis semper curabunt. Ast hi spe lucri magis, quae jam sublata est, quàm doctrinae cupiditate, quae in illis nulla est, hoc fecerant. Ast boni viri inopiam studiosorū levabunt. Hoc olim factum est. Sed nunc prioris seculi felici­tatem potiùs admirari, quàm hac spe studiosorum vitam alere [Page] & sustentare possumus. Quorsum tot Scholae in Anglia, siad Academias paucisese conferunt? I mo aut paucae sunt, aut re­lictae & contemptae sunt: & parentes hodiè cuivis rei potiùs quàm literis liberos suos addicunt. Sed Respub: huic rei re­medium adferet. Digna certèrea in qua totum occupetur Parliamentum: nisi enim haec semina doctrinae teneris ani­mis tempestivè sparsa fuerint, quaenam in Repub: vel exori­atur spes, vel a dolescat virtus, vel efflorescat pura Religio & vera felicitas, prudentia Tua intelligit. Multa ad hunc mo­dum verissimè dici possint de labenti jam & admodum pro­clivi ad occasum literarum dignitate (Nobiliss. Marchio:) quae res quantum in se veri habet tantum adjumēti à Te re­quirit ad maturum illi adferendum remedium. Hoc dabis Religioni & Reipublicae: hoc dabis multorum parentum sol­licitae spei, multorum ingeniorum praeclarae indoli: dabis hoc etiam saluti posterorum temporum, in quibus nullus doctri­nae fructus exoriri potest, cujus sementis superioribus tem­poribus facta non fuerit. Dabis his omnibus quantum vis, vis certè tantum quantum literis, hoc est, summis & verae Re­ligionis praesidiis, & florentis Reipublicae ornamentis dari debere prudentia Tua judicabit. In another of their letters to St Anthony Denny, one of the privy Councell, where they plead the same cause with as much eloquence as earnestnesse, they desire him to consider that it is not their own particular, but the common cause of all posterity, & the whole State; and that he and all others in authoritie, would be carefull to distin­guish betwixt some obuoxious persons, & the whole Common­wealth of learning, ne ea ratio quae ignorantiam malorum Sacerdotum justissimè puniat, optimorum etiam ingenio­rum spem à studiis literarum unà auferat. Hoc remedium non malos ad sanitatem adduceret, sed bonos ad desperatio­nem adigeret. Thus much for the miseries or feares of the Vniversitie of Cambridge in those times. Nor was that of Ox­ford in any better condition. I finde an ample commission gran­ted to the Earle of Warwick, and eight more, any seven, six, five, foure, three, two, or one of them, to visit in capite & membris the whole Diocese, but especially the Vniverfity [Page] of Oxford. What other effects that Visitation had, does not well appeare, but (tis said) Richard Coxe, who was one of them, did so clearely purge the Vniversitie-Librarie of all Monu­ments of superstition, that he left not one booke in it of all those goodly Manuscripts, of which by the munificence of severall Benefactors, that place was very amply furnished: Especially by Richard Aungervyle Bishop of Durham, Thomas Cobham Bishop of Worcester, Humphrey the good Duke of Gloce­ster, Iohn Whethamsted Abbot of S. Albans, Iohn Tipetoft Earle of Worcester, and divers others. Such errours or rather impieties were committed by some in this kinde, that Iohn Bale, a man sufficiently averse from the least shadow of Popery, and one that hated all Monkery with a perfect hatred, yet could not but complaine to King EDWARD the sixt, & dolorously lament so great an oversight in the most lawfull overthrow of Abbies and Frieries. Covetousnesse was at that time so busie about private commodity that publique wealth in that most necessary and godly respect was not a­ny where regarded. A great number of them which purcha­sed those superstitious mansions, reserved of those Library books, some to serve their jakes, some to scoure their Can­dlesticks, and some to rub their Boots, some they sold to the Grociers and Sope-sellers: and some they sent over Sea to the Book-binders, not in small number, but at times whole Ships full. Yea the Vniversities of this Realme are not all cleare in this detestable fact. But cursed is that belly which seeketh to be fed with such ungodly gaines, and so deeply shameth his naturall countrey. I know a merchant man (which shall at this time be namelesse) that bought the Contents of two noble Libraries for forty shillings price, a shame it is to be spoken. This stuffe hath he occupied in steed of gray paper by the space of more then these ten yeares: and yet he hath store enough for as many yeares to come. A prodigious example is this, and to be abhorred of all men which love their nation as they should doe. Yea, what may bring our Realme to more shame & rebuke, then [Page] to have it noysed abroad that we are despisers of Learning? I judge this to be true, and utter it with heavinesse, that nei­ther the Brittaines under the Romans & Saxons, not yet the English people under the Danes and Normans had ever such damage of their learned Monuments as we have seene in our time. Our posterity may wele curse this wicked fact of our age, this unreasonable spoile of Englands most noble an­tiquities. The Anabaptists in our time, an unquietous kind of men, arrogant without measure, captious and unlearned, doe leave none old workes unbrent, that they may easily come by; as appeared by the Libraries at Munster in the land of Westphalia, whom they most furiously destroyed. An able witnesse of this their wicked custome, is Petrus Plate­anus, among many others, in his Treatise against their dog­ged doings. Libros omnes exurunt (inquit) indignantes se ab alio quàm ab ipso suo spiritu doctos videri. Miserum est cer­nere Bibliothecas non ignobiles ab execranda Secta hoc modo aboleri. They think scorne of any other Spirit to seem lear­ned, then of their own fanaticall braines. Antonius Corvi­nus saith also in his book against them, Anabaptistarum furor optimos quos (que) authores, ac vetustissima venerandae antiquita­tis exemplaria absumpserunt in Bibliotheca Osnaburgensi. I could bring out a great number of like testimonies from Oe­colampadius, Zuinglius, Bullinger, Calvin, and Philip Me­lancthon, with other of the most notable writers of our age, concerning this ungracious violence of these chimney Prea­chers, and bench-Bablers: but let these two rehearsed at this time suffice. Thus far Iohn Bale ( in his declarations upon Le­lands iournall) to King EDWARD the VI. 1549.

But to returne. I conceive the very sight of these barbarous insolencies committed upon those Treasuries of good Letters, Books and Libraries, could not but impresse in serious appre­hensions a deep contemplation of the approaching funeralls of most kindes of Learning, & make them take their long leaves of the Universitie. And so they did: insomuch that at Oxford their publique Schooles were converted into a private garden­piot; [Page] their publique Treasurie robbed; their monies and muni­ments embesel'd & wasted, as does more largely appeare by the preface to a royall Grant of & MARIES to that Vniversity in the first of her Raigne. Regina omnibus ad quos praesentes li­terae pervenerint salutem. Gravissimorum hominum testi­moniis ad aures nostras perlatum est, ac certissimis quibus­dam rationibus nobis quasi ob oculos positum, nostram illam Academiam quae Oxonii sita est, alterum totius regni lumen, olim bonarum literarum omnium celeberrimum emporium, sic & temporum injuriâ afflictam esse, ut penè inculta jace­at, & inopiâ harum retum quibus dignitas omnis sustinetur adeo oppressam esse, ut extincta jam penè & quodam quasi squallore contabuisse videatur. Publicas enim illius Scho­las, in quibus olim fiebat statis quibusdam & solennibus die­bus frequens discentium concursio, vastatas & in privaros hortos conversas: Publicum the saurum direptum: ornamen­ta publica ablata, & publica vectigalia it a tenuia, imò it a fe­rè nulla esse accepimus, ut ne (que) publicis usibus aliquâ expar­ta sufficiant, ne (que) publicarum causarum defensioni & injuriis propulsand is respondeant. Nos igitur Academiam illam, quâ contemptâ & desertâ nec orthodoxa fides defendi, nec in rebus controversis veritas erui, nec certè in Repub: justitia administrari potest, penè oppressam & jacentem erigere at­que excitare, illius (que) squallorem depellere, & inopiam no­strâ munificentiâ sublevare ad regium munus nostrum per­rinere existimantes, ut posthac habeat quo & suas Scholas e­rigat, erectas teneat perpetuis ut speramus futuris tem pori­bus, & se sua (que) privilegia adversus quarumcun (que) injuriarum procellas defendat, &c. And though this might perswade with some that to be a Schollar was none of the greatest curses; yet I doe not see that the people were hearty friends with lear­ning all Q. MARIES daies, nor in the beginning of Queene ELIZABETH. What a learned ministery shall we thinke Q Eliz. Iniunction 43. they had under Queen MARY, when many were made Priests being children, and otherwise utterly unlearned, so they could read to say Mattens and Masse? And how can wee [Page] expect it should be much bettur in the first of Q. ELIZA­BETH, when some Ministers (because they were but meane Readers) are injoyned to peruse over before once or twice Ibid. Iniun­ction 3. the Chapters and Homilies, to the intent they might read to the better understanding of the people? And what esti­mate shall we make of their discretion, when it was thought Ibid. Iniun­ction 9. very necessary that no priest or Deacon should take to his wife any manner of woman without the advice and allow­ance first had, upon good examination, by the Bishop of the Diocesse, & two Iustices of the Peace? What rare Preachers shall we imagine they had in the Vniversitie at that time, when M [...] Tavernour of Water-Eaton high Sheriffe of Oxford­shiere, came in pure charitie, not ostentation, and gave the Schollars a Sermon in S t Maryes, with his gold chaine about his neck, and his sword by his side; beginning with these words, Arriving at the Mount of Saint Maries, in the stony Stage where I now stand, I have brought you some fine Biskets, baked in the oven of Charitie, and carefully conserved for the Chickens of the Church, the Sparrowes of the Spirit, & the sweet Swallowes of Salvation. By this we may guesse what a dearth of learning there was till it pleased God & good Queen ELIZABETH to redeeme it from poverty & con­tempt by granting new and ample Charters to the Vniversity of Cambridge, and passing severall Statutes in Parliament, That of Provision and others, very beneficiall for the mainte­nance of Schollars, and reducing the Clergy of this Kingdome to that lustre which they had in the daies of her royall Father, when that high and Honourable Court of Parliament gave them this testimony, that the body Spirituall, now being u­sually 24. Hen. 8. cap. 12. called the English Church, alwaies hath been reputed and also found of that sort, that both for knowledge, integri­tie and sufficiencie of number, it hath been alwaies thought, and is also at this houre, sufficient and meet of it selfe, with­out the intermedling of any exteriour person or persons, to declare and determine all causes of the Law Divine, or of spirituall learning; and to administer all such offices and du­ties [Page] as to their roomes Spirituall doth appertaine. For the due administration whereof, and to keep them from corrup­tion, and sinister affection, the Kings most noble Progenitors, and the Ancestors of the Nobles of this Realme, have suffi­ciently endowed the said Church both with Honour and Possessions. Indeed nothing more certaine, then that this one Kingdome of England has in all ages produced as many, nay more learned men in all Professions, then any other Nation in the world besides: witnesse the severall Catalogues of our an­cient apud Boston: Bariensem. Lehandum. [...] Baseum, Vossium. &c. Authors, & their works. No better reason for it then the liberall maintenance of Schollars in the Universities, and the faire preferments in the Church. Take away these, and what can be expected but the whole Nation will be quickly over-run with beggery and barbarisme? Then, that definition of a Schol­lar will prove too Catholique, a silly fellow in black. So true has that of the Historian ever been, nihil à quoquam expeti nisi cujus fructus antè providerit. And sublatis studiorum pretiis etiam studia peritura ut minùs decora. By all the Lawes of God may not a man as freely dispose of his estate io the endowment of a Church or Colledge, as to any lay person or Corporation? The donations of Kings and other pious Foun­ders and Benefactors made to them, are they not as good and strong by the Lawes of this Land as any other private convey­ance? Have not the Clergy as true a propriety in their free­holds as the rest of his Majesties Subjects? Are they not the first words of those fundamentall Lawes of England comprised in the Great Charter; We have granted to God, and by this our present Charter have confirmed for us and our heires for evermore, that the Church of England shall be free, & shall have all her whole rights and liberties inviolable? Does not every King at his Coronation take a solemne Oath for the pre­servation of them? Are there not many hideous and direfull imprecations of their Founders laid upon all such as dare to violate their intentions? And has not common experience taught us that Church-chapmen, though they had the cheapest penyworths, had not ever the best bar gaines? Not but that the [Page] Meanes as well as the Ministers of the Church, as they are ly­able to abuses, so must they submit to a Reformation. And the Government it selfe so farre as it shall appeare to the wisdome of the State to be notoriously inconvenient, no good man but will desire to see it altered. But for those which knowe least, to take upon them most; not only to instruct and direct the Law­givers, but even to iudge and condemne the Lawes themselues; to cry out against them as tyrannicall, and made in times of Po­pery; to reiect the Common-prayer-book as a piece of Jdolatry, and brand that for superstition which is yet legall conformity, to call the very Office of Episcopacy Antichristian & Diaboli­call, which all Antiquity counted sacred, & our publique Acts of Parliament acknowledge to be one of the greatest States of 8 Eliz c. 8. this Realme; to give out that if all arguments fayle, they will dispute it with the sword, what are these but rudiments of Se­dition scattered among the common people too much distempe­red with those two vulgar diseases, Ignorance, and desire of Innovation? whence it is, they can only say they would not have this Government, but cannot say what they would have. Yea may it not be feared that an Anabaptisticall parity as well in State as Church sounds too plausibly in the eares of the multi­tude? Consult our Chronicles, see what were the aymes and ends of those rude companies under Iack Straw and Wat Ty­ler in RICHARD the seconds daies. Look upon Kets de­mands, and Ombles Prophecy under EDWARD VI. Doe not they all amount to this Summe, they would have no Noble men, no Gentlemen, no Lawyers, no Iustices, as well as no Bishops? This you will finde to be the occasion why this wor­thy Author S r Iohn Cheeke first writ this Discourse. Which indeed was printed againe by order of Queen ELIZABETH 1569. and then too not without cause, for there was at that time a Rebellion in the North, & those that were parties to it, pretending a restauration of Religion, tore and trampled under foot the Common-prayer-Bookes which they found in the Churches of Durham. To prevent all such disorders in the gid­die multitude of these succeeding times, in quibus magis alii [Page] homines quàm alii mores, I have thought it might in part con­duee to the publike peace & good of this Kingdome, if they were once more presented with this short, but considerable Tract, Of the Hurt of Sedition, which may with more ease be kept out of a Commonwealth then expelled: sooner suppressed then mo­derated. The Author himselfe lived as peaceably as he writes: whiles he was in his Colledge he was a president of love and amity: and after his departure an earnest mediator to compose the Societie a litle distracted by domestique factions. He that desires to knowe more of him, let him peruse the succeeding im­perfect story of his life, collected for the most part out of such as were contemporary with him, and somewheres spelled and put together out of the severall letters of himselfe and others.

THE LIFE OF S r IOHN CHEEKE.

THIS learned and worthy man fell immediatly from the wombe of his mother into the lappe of the Muses; being both borne and bred within the liberties of that famous nursery of good letters, Cambridge. Where I quickly find him at a full height, but cannot tell you how low he took his rise: the diversity of ex­pression in severall Anthors, cannot but in this point distract the Reader; some making him of a noble, some of a base ex­traction. We may imagine the meane to be of a nearer alli­ance to truth then either extreme. I have read his Mother saluted by the name of Mrs cheeke, and two of his Sisters fairely matched, one to Doctor Blith, the Kings professour of Physick; and Mary, another of them, to William Cecill, af­terwards Lord Burghley, a most able minister of State in those dayes, & the Father of divers noble Families in these. Vpon which probabilities I would conclude M Cheeke for [Page] his parentage to be somewhat more then the sonne of his owne deserts. And yet these were so farre above vulgar and ordinary, that they quickly purchased him a Fellowship in S t Iohns Colledge; and it may be disputable whether in point of learning he ought more to the place, or the place to him. His eminency was so generally taken notice of by the whole Vniverlity, that they pitched upon him for the sole manage of two weighty, but honorary employments, of their publique Oratour and Greek Reader. In the discharge of this latter he went over Sophocles twice, all Homer, all Euripides, and part of Herodotus, to his Auditors benefit, and his owne credit, which was all the Salary he then had. Till King HENRY the VIII of his Royall bounty, en­dowed that and the other Chaires with the liberall allow­ance of forty pounds per annum. Then the place was thought worthy the seeking for, and I find three powerfull competitors all suiting for it in M r Cheekes absence: yet it seemes the prudent King upon the sole commendatories of his former deservings reserved that honour for him, to be the first Regius Professor of the Greek tongue in Cambridge. as S r Thomas Smith was of Law. Whom I mention for that great intimacy which he had with our Author. They were both Fellowes of the same Colledge, both Professors in the same Vniversity, both Officers of State in the same Court: they two especially by their advice and example brought the Study of Tongues & other politer learning first into re­quest in that Vniversity. But while they were in their full cariere they had the hap to meet with some rubbs. Vpon hopes of facilitating the understanding of the Greek tongue they attempted to reduce it to the ancient, but obsolete mā ­ner of pronunciation; a thing very repugnant to the genius of those times and other places. This innovation was quick­ly obserued by Stephen Gardiner Bishop of Winchester then Chancellour of that Vniversity, who took a course to re­presse it by a strict injunction sent to be published there Maij XXI 1542. Yet so as he was content upon equall [Page] termes to reason the matter with M r Cheeke, and so he did fairely and friendly in his first letters: The Professor was not willing to desert the cause and quitt the feild having so Honorable an adversary: hee answers the Chancellour once and againe, freely (I confesse) and (as the B P thought) boldly. Long was the cause bandyed betwixt them, the one pleading ancient right, the other present possession. But at last M r Cheeke was content to submit to that one unanswer­able argument of the Chancellours, Authority. Yet his rules and practise had taken such deep root in his Auditours that by them it was propagated through this whole King­dome: and that we English-men now speak Greek and are able to understand one another when no body else can, this we must acknowledge to be a speciall effect of M r Cheekes rare ingeny. Which could not long be contained within the narrow precincts of the Vniversity; that famous King, HENRY the VIII, thought it fit to call this great light of learning out of the shadow, and so he did Iulij X. 1544. and to his custodie he then committed the most precious jewell of the Kingdome, the young Prince EDWARD, being at that time not full seven yeares of age. Here was such a hap­py concurrence of sweetnesse and ingenuity that it was no very hard matter for the Master to imbue the tender yeares of his Scholar with so deep a tincture of Piety, and good let­ters as render'd him the glory of his owne times, and the miracle of ours. What unspeakable progresse he made un­der this Directour of his Studies, he that makes a doubt of Cardans testimony may be confirmed from those many no­ble reliques of his industry and sufficiency, both in Greek and Latine, written with his owne hand, which are still pre­served in his Majesties Library at S. Iames. And what a fit and happy choyce the King made in such a Tutor, for such a Schollar I cannot better expresse then in the words of that learned Antiquary Iohn Leland, who dedicated one of his books to M r Cheeke with this L'envoy.

[Page] Ad libellum, ut Ioanni Checo Grantano placere studeat

Si vis Thespiadum Choro probari
Fac ut consilio, libelle, nostro
Facundo studeas placere Checo:
Quem Pandioniae colunt Athenae.
Et quem Roma colit diserta multúm
Quem Rex Maximus, omnium supremùs (que),
HENRICVS reputans virum probatum
Spectatúm (que) satis, recondite (que)
Censorem solidum eruditionis,
EDVARDVM bene filium, suúm (que)
Haeredem, puerum, illi, ad alta natum,
Sic concredidit utrius (que) lingua
Flores ut legeret venustiores;
Exercens facili manum labore,
Ut CHRISTI imbiberet suäve nectar.
Felicem arbitror hunc diem fuisse
Tanto Discipulo dedit Magistrum
Qui talem &c.

I suppose it may be truely said that under God M. Cheek was a speciall instrument of the propagation of the Gospell, & that Religion which we now professe in this Kingdome. For he not only sowed the seeds of that Doctrine in the heart of Prince EDWARD, which afterwards grew up in­to a generall Reformation when he came to be King, but by his meanes the same saveing truth was gently instilled into the Lady ELIZABETH, by those who by his pro­curement were admitted to be the Guides of her younger Studies: Such were first William Grindall, a hopefull young Scholar ofS. Iohns in Cambridge, whom being destitute of other meanes of subsistance, M. Cheek took into his service Anno 1544. and soone after preferr'd him to the Lady ELI­ZABETH: with whom he continued as long as he lived in good favour and likeing: and the losse of him was, by M r Cheekes meanes, presently supplyed in Roger Ascham, who had formerly been his Scholar in the Colledge, and Succes­sour [Page] in the Orators place in the Vniversity: A man deare unto him for similitude of studies, but more for his zeale to the true Religion. Which was so precious with our Au­thor, that no man was great in his books, but such as were well affected to Gods. Even in HENRY the VIII time his friends and familiars were most of those worthy men which proved Reformers in King EDWARDS dayes, and either Martyrs or Exiles in Queene MARIES. His forreigne acquaintance were Sleidan, Melancthon, Sturmi­us, Bucer, Camerarius, Coelius, Peter Martyr and others, great Scholars and good Protestants. And the Crowne was no sooner on King EDWARDS head, Ianuary XX VIII. 1547. and the Gospell set at liberty, but many of these men came, and others were sent for to help forwards that great worke of the Reformation in England. when the young King was well setled in his Throne, and began to be skilled in the art of reigning, he thought fit to make choyce of such men for the nearest attendance upon his person, as he knew to be best affected to it; & therefore amongst others admitted M. Cheek to be one of his Privy Chamber. This accrue of honour to her sonne made his learned mother the Vniversity a suiter to him for protection in those stormy times: who in her letters to him gives him such an elogie, as I cannot omitt without guilt of concealment. This it is, Ex universo illo numero Clarissimorum virorum (Clarissi­me Chece) qui ex hac Academia in Rempublicam unquam prodierunt, Tu unus es quem semper Academia prae universis alijs & praesentem complexa est, & absentem admirata est: quam Tu vicissim plusquam Vniversi alij & praesens ornave­ras, & absens juvas. About this time he took so much lea­sure as either to pen or publish severall learned, and usefull Tracts both for Church and State. And as his merits, so his Princes favour were ever in progression. In the yeare 1551, after the treaty about the Match with France, when his Majesty was pleased to make a doale of honours amongst his deserving Subjects, M. Cheek was not forgot­ten; [Page] he with his Brother in Law Secretary Cecill, and others were then Knighted. This was but a foundation upon which the gratefull Prince had a purpose to erect higher preferments had not the hand of Providence so soone snatch'd him a way into another Kingdome, to invest his temples with a more glorious Crowne. This was done Iuly VI. 1553. Not long after he had called S r Iohn Cheeke to sit at the helme of State, the Councell Boord. In this common losse of so good a King He, good man, had more then a common share. The tide of the times must now turne, and he must either row with it, or be in danger to perish in it. And so he was; for his zeale to Religion trans­porting him a litle beyond his loyaltie to his lawfull Sove­raigne, he was one of those among the Councell who could have been content the Lady IANE'S title to the Crowne should have been thought better then the Lady MARIE'S. And for this He amongst others was clapt up in Prison Iuly XXVII. Here he was stripp'd of the greatest part of his ho­nours, and all his fortunes: but his person was set at liberty September III. And not long after I meet with him in Ger­many, either a forced or a voluntary Exile. From thence he passed into Italy, and by the way left those adversary Epi­stles of Winchester and himselfe with his friend Coelius, who put them in Print without the Authors privity. At his returne to Germany he was kindly entertained at Stras­bourg, where he took up his old trade; and set up shop a­gaine, being chosen publique Professor of the Greek tongue in that place. This was a treasure which maintained him in his exile: this he had not confiscate to the Queene: this es­caped the diligence of all the Searchers when he conveyed it out of the Kingdome. Here he lived about two yeares in good repute, till I know not what unluckie starres put him upon a journey into the Low Countries. Nor is it well a­greed what his businesse was there. Some have said it was to marry a wife: but what need of that, when he was alrea­dy matched to a young Lady, who lived to see many happyer [Page] daies after his decease, and dyed well nigh threescore yeares after him, Anno 1616? Others report the occasion of this his voyage to be no more but a friendly interview, and visit of the English Ambassadors then at Bruxelles, and a­mong them his ancient friend the Lord Pagett, who enga­ged the faith of King PHILIP for his safe conduct. But for the maine motive of this his voyage, I subscribe to the relation of Sleidan, as most ancient & likely to be most true. He tels us how S r Iohn Cheeke went into Low Germany ut vxorem educeret, to fetch his wife from thence, who belike was lately come over out of England, and meant to settle with him at Strasbourg. Those words of Sleidan were (as I conceive) by an easie mistake corrupted into vxorem du­ceret; and this was the first plantation of that opinion touch­ing his marriage, which sprung up afterwards into a popu­lar errour. But whatever was the occasion, the event of that journey did not correspond to the undertakers hopes. For in his returne from Bruxelles to Antwerp, May XV. 1556, both S r Iohn Cheeke and S r Peter Carew were waylay'd by the Provost Marshall for King PHILIP, beaten from their horses, tyed hand and foot to the bottome of a Cart, and so conveyed hoodwinckt to the next Haven, where they were Shipt under hatches, and their first landing place was the Tower of London, where they were committed to close Prison. It is said there be some Writers that have made both these men Martyrs two yeares before; and as­signed them a place in the Calendar Iune XIII. 1554, the day upon which they were supposed to be burned both at the same Stake, and for the same Cause. But the truth is o­therwise: S r Peter Carew outlived all his troubles, and un­derwent many honorable services under Queene ELI­ZABETH, and dyed in Ireland above twenty yeares af­ter this supposed Martyrdome, Anno 1575. S r Iohn Check's lott was somewhat harder: he was put to this miserable choyce, either to forgoe his life, or what is farre more pre­cious his liberty of conscience. No meane; neither his great [Page] learning, his knowne integrity, the intercession of his friends, and among them Abbot Fekenhans, (a man which could doe somewhat with Queene MARY) could com­pound for his pardon at any lower rate then the recantati­of his Religion. This he was loath to accept till his hard usage in prison, joyned with thereats of worse upon his per­severance, and faire promises to his submission, with what other insinuating meanes humane pollicie could invent to work upon flesh and blood, drew from his mouth an abre­nuntiation of that truth which he had so long professed, and still believec. Vpon this he was sooner restored to his liber­tie, but never to his content. The sense and sorrow for his fall in himselfe, and the daily sight of that cruell butchery which was exercised upon others for the constant professi­on of the truth, made such deep impressions in his broken soule, as brought him to a speedy, but comfortable end of a miserable life. He died at London in the house of Peter Osberne Esquier, in September 1557. His body lies buried in S t Albans, Woodstreet: with this Epitaph upon his tombe.

Doctrinae CHECUS linguae (que) utrius (que) Magister
Aurea naturae fabrica morte jacet.
Non erat ė multis unus, sed praestitit unus
Omnibus, & patriae flos erat ille suae.
Gemma Britanna fuit: tam magnum nulla tulerunt
Tempora the saurum; tempora nulla ferent.

I doe not finde any issue that he left of his body, save one sonne which bare his own name, a comely young man and a stout; slaine in his Princes service at the siege of Fort del Or in Jreland 1580. the onely man of ours that was lost in that daies service. But for the issue of his braine, that's more nu­merous; and for their sakes which are delighted in such pe­digrees, I have set downe this succeeding Catalogue of S r IOHN CHEEKES Works.

Scripsit CL. V. Ioannes Checus
  • Introductionem Grammatices. Lib. 1.
  • De Ludimagistrorum officio, Lib. 1.
  • [Page] De pronunciatione linguae Graecae.
  • Correctiones Herodoti, Thycididis, Platonis, Demosthenis, & Xenophontis. lib. plurimis.
  • Epitaphia. Lib. 1.
  • Panegyricum in nativitatem EDVARDI Principis.
  • Elegiam de aegrotatione & obitu EDVARDI VI.
  • In obitum Antonii Dennei. Lib. 1.
  • De obitu Buceri.
  • Commentarios in Psalmum CXXXIX & alios.
  • An liceat nubere post Divortium. Lib. 1.
  • De fide iustificante. Lib. 1.
  • De aqua lustrali, cineribus, & palmis, ad Wintoniensem. L. 1.
  • De Eucharistiae Sacramento. Lib. 1.
  • Collegit in Parliamento argumenta & rationes exutra (que) par­te super negotio Eucharistiae.
  • Edidit ( quem hic recusum damus) de damno ex seditione Libellum.

Transtulit E Graeco in Latinum.
  • Euripidis & Sophocils quaedam ad literam.
  • Aristotelem de anima.
  • Demosthenis Olynthiacas, Philippicas, & contra Leptinem.
  • AEschinis & Demosthenis Orationes adversarias.
  • Plutarchum de superstitione.
  • Leonem Imperatorem De apparatu bellico.
  • Iosephum De antiquitatibus Iudaicis.
  • Chrysostomi Homilias quasdam. viz Contra Observatores Novilunii 1. De dormientibus in Christo. 1. De provi dentia Dei. 3. De fato. 3.
  • Maximi Monachi asceticum.

Ex Anglico in Latinum.
  • Thomae Cranmeri librum de Sacramentis.
  • Officium de Communione.

THE TRVE SVBIECT To THE REBELL.

AMONG so many and notable benefits, wherewith GOD hath alreadie liberally and Plentifully endued us, there is nothing more beneficiall, then that wee have by his grace kept us quiet from re­bellion at this time. For we see such miseries hang over the whole state of common wealth, through the great misorder of your sedition, that it maketh us much to rejoyce, that we have been neither partners of your doings, nor conspirers of your counsells. For even as the Lacedemonians [Page 2] for the avoiding of Drunkennesse, did cause their sonnes to behold their servants when they were drunk, that by beholding their beastlinesse, they might avoid the like vice: even so hath God like a mercifull father staid us from your wickednesse, that by beholding the filth of your fault, wee might justly for offence abhorre you like Rebels, whom else by nature we love like Englishmen. And so for our selues wee have great cause to thank God, by whose religion and holy word daily taught us, we learne not only to feare him truly, but also to obey our King faithfully, and to serve in our own vocation like subjects honestly. And as for you, we have surely just cause to la­ment you as brethren, and yet juster cause to rise against you as enimies, & most just cause to over­throwe you as Rebels. For what hurt could bee done either to us privatly, or to the whole com­monwealth generally, that is now with mischiefe so brought in by you, that even as we see now the flame of your rage, so shall we necessarily be con­sumed hereafter with the misery of the same. Wherefore consider your selves with some light of understanding, and marke this grievous & hor­rible fault, which yee have thus vildly commit­ted, how hay nous it must needs appeare to you, if yee will reasonably consider that, which for my duties sake, and my whole Countries cause, I will at this present declare unto you.

Yee which be bound by Gods word not to o­bey for feare, like men pleasers, but for conscience [Page 3] sake, like Christians, have contrary to Gods holy will, whose offence is everlasting death; and con­trary to the godly order of quietnesse, set out to us in the Kings Majesties laws, the breach where­of is not unknown to you, taken in hand uncalled of God, unsent by men, unfit by reason, to cast a­way your bounden duties of obedience, and to put on you against the Magistrates, Gods office committed to the Magistrates, for the reformati­on of your pretensed injuries.

In the which doing, yee have first faulted grie­vously against God, next offended unnaturally our Soveraigne Lord, thirdly troubled misera­bly the whole common-wealth, undone cruelly many an honest man, and brought in an utter mi­sery both to us the Kings subjects, and to your selves being false Rebells: and yet yee pretend that partly for Gods cause, and partly for the commonwealths sake, yee doe rise, when as your selves cannot denie, but yee that seeke in word Gods cause, doe break indeed Gods commande­ment; and yee that seek the commonwealth, have destroyed the commonwealth: and so yee marre that yee would make, and break that yee would amend, because yee nether seek any thing rightly, nor would amend any thing orderly.

He that faulteth, faulteth against Gods ordi­nance, who hath forbidden all faults, and there­fore ought againe to be punished by Gods ordi­nance, who is the reformer of faults. For he saith, leave the punishment to me, and I will revenge [Page 4] them. But the Magistrate is the ordinance of God, appointed by him with the sword of pu­nishment, to looke straitly to all evill doers. And therefore that that is done by the Magi­strate, is done by the ordinance of God, whō the Scripture oftentimes doth call God, because he hath the execution of Gods office. How then doe you take in hand to reforme? Be yee Kings? By what authority? or by what succession? Be yee the Kings officers? By what commission? Be yee called of God? By what tokens declare yee that? Gods word teacheth us, that no man should take in hand any office, but he that is called of God like Aaron. What Moses I pray you called you? What Gods minister bade you rise?

Yee rise for religion. What religion taught you that? If yee were offered persecution for re­ligion, yee ought to flie: so Christ teacheth you, and yet you intend to fight. If yee would stand in the truth, yee ought to suffer like Martyrs: & you would slay like Tyrants. Thus for religion yee keep no religion, and neither will follow the counsell of Christ, nor the constancy of Martyrs. Why rise yee for religion? Have yee any thing contrary to Gods book? Yea, have yee not all things agreable to Gods word? But the new is different from the old, and therefore yee will have the old. If yee measure the old by truth, yee have the oldest: if yee measure the old by fancie, then it is hard, because mens fancies change, to give that is old. Yee will have the old still: Will yee [Page 5] have any older then that which Christ left, & his A­postles taught, and the first Church after Christ did use? Yee will have that the Canons doe esta­blish. Why, that is a great deale younger then that yee have of later time, and newlier invented. Yet that is it that yee desire. Why, then yee desire not the oldest. And doe you preferre the Bishops of Rome afore Christ? mens inventiō afore Gods law? the newer sort of worship before the older? Yee seek no religion, yee be deceived, yee seeke traditions. They that teach you, blinde you; that so instruct you, deceiue you. If yee seek what the old Doctors say, yet look what Christ the oldest of all saith. For he saith, before Abraham was made, I am. If yee seek the truest way, he is the very truth: if yee seek the readiest way, hee is the very way: if yee seek everlasting life, he is the ve­ry life. What religion would you have other now, then his religion?

You would have the Bibles in againe. It is no marvell, your blind guides would lead you blinde still. Why, be yee Howlets and Bats, that yee can­not look on the light? Christ saith to every one, search yee the Scriptures, for they beare witnesse of Christ. You say, pull in the Scriptures, for we will haue no knowledge of Christ. The Apostles of Christ will us to be so ready, that we may be able to give every man an account of our faith. Yee will us not once to read the Scriptures, for feare of knowing of our faith. Saint Paul prayeth that every man may increase in knowledge, yee [Page 6] desire that our knowledge might decay againe A true religion yee ieek belike, and worthy to be fought for. For without the sword indeed, no­thing can help it, neither Christ, nor truth, nor age can maintaine it. But why should yee not like that which Gods word establisheth, the primitiue Church hath authorised, the greatest learned men of this Realme haue drawne, the whole consent of the Parliament hath confirmed, the Kings Maje­stie hath set forth? Is it not truly set out? Can yee devise any truer, then Christs Apostles used? Yee think it is not learnedly done. Dare yee Com­mons take upon you more learning, then the cho­sen Bishops and Clearks of this Realme have? Think yee folly in it? Yee were wont to judge your Parliament wisest, and now will yee sud­dainly excell them in wisdome? Or can you think it lacketh authority, which the King, the Parliament, the learned, the wise, have justly ap­proved? Learne, learne, to know this one point of Religion, that God will be worshipped as he hath prescribed, and not as we have devised: and that his will is wholy in his Scriptures, which be full of Gods spirit, and profitable to teach the truth, to reproue lyes, to amend faults, to bring one up in righteousnesse, that he that is a Gods man may be perfect and ready to all good works. What can be more required to serve God withall? And thus much for religion-Rebels.

The other rabble of Norfolk Rebels, yee pre­tend a commonwealth. How amend yee it, by [Page 7] killing of Gentlemen, by spoiling of Gentlemen, by imprisoning of Gentlemen? A marveilous tanned commonwealth. Why should yee thus hate them? for their riches, or for their rule? Rule they never took so much in hand, as yee doe now. They never resisted the King, never withstood his Councell; be faithfull at this day, when yee be faithlesse, not only to the King, whose subjects yee be, but also to your Lords, whose tenants yee be. Is this your true duty, in some of homage, in most of fealtie, in all of allegeance, to leaue your duties, goe back from your promises, fall from your faith, & contrary to law and truth to make unlawfull assemblies, ungodly companies, wic­ked and detestable camps, to disobey your betters, and to obey your Tanners, to change your obe­dience from a King to a Ket, to submit your selves to Traytors, and break your faith to your true King and Lords? They rule but by law: if o­therwise, the Law, the Councell, the King, taketh away their rule. Yee haue orderly sought no re­dresse, but yee have in time found it. In countries some must rule, some must obey, every man may not beare like stroke, for every man is not like wise. And they that have seene most, and be best able to beare it, and of just dealing befide, be most fit to rule. It is another matter to understand a mans own griefe, and to knowe the common­wealths sore: and therefore not they that knowe their own case, as every man doth, but they that understand the commonwealths state, ought to [Page 8] have in countries the preferment of ruling. If yee felt the paine that is joyned with governance, as yee see and like the honour, yee would not hurt o­thers to rule them, but rather take great paine to be ruled of them. If yee had rule of the Kings Ma­jestie committed unto you, it were well done yee had ruled the Gentlemen: but now yee have it not, & cannnot beare their rule, it is to think the kings Majestie foolish and unjust, that hath given cer­taine rule to them. And seeing by the Scripture, that yee ought not to speake evill of any Magi­strate of the people, why doe yee not only speak evill of them, whom the Kings Majestie hath put in office, but also judge evill of the King him­selfe, and thus seditiously in field stand with your swords drawne against him?

If riches offend you, because yee would have the like, then think that to be no commonwealth, but envie to the commonwealth. Envie it is to appaire another mans estate, without the amend­ment of your own. And to have no Gentlemen, because yee be none your selves, is to bring down an estate, and to mend none. Would yee have all alike rich? That is the overthrowe of labour, and utter decay of work in this Realme. For who wil labour more, if when he hath gotten more, the idle shall by lust without right, take what him lust from him, under pretence of equalitie with him. This is the bringing in of idlenesse, which destroyeth the commonwealth, & not the amend­ment of labour, that maintaineth the common­wealth [Page 9] If there should be such equalitie, then yee take all hope away from yours, to come to any bet­ter estate than you now leaue them. And as many meane mens children come honestly up, and are great succour to all their stock, so should none bee hereafter holpen by you: but because yee seek equa­litie, whereby all cannot be rich, yee would that be­like, whereby every man should be poore. And think beside that riches and inheritance be Gods providence, and given to whom of his wisdome he thinketh good. To the honest for the increase of their godlinesse, to the wicked for the heaping up of their damnation, to the simple for a recompence of other lacks, to the wise for the greater setting out of Gods goodnesse. Why will your wisdome now stop Gods wisdome, and provide by your laws, that God shall not enrich them, whom he hath by provi­dence appointed as him liketh? God hath made the poore, & hath made them to be poore, that he might shew his might, and set them aloft when he listeth, for such cause as to him seemeth; and pluck downe the rich to this state of povertie, to shew his power, as he disposeth to order them. Why doe not we thē being poore beare it wisely, rather then by lust seek riches unjustly; and shew our selues contented with Gods ordinance, which we must either willingly o­bey, and then we be wise; or else we must unprofita­bly strive withall, and then we be mad. But what meane yee by this equality in the commonwealth? If one be wiser then another, will yee banish him be­cause yee intend an equalitie of all things? If one be [Page 10] stronger then another, will yee slay him because yee seek an equalitie of all things? If one be well favour­der then another, will yee punish him because yee look for an equalitie of all things? If one have bet­ter utterance then another, will yee pull out his tongue to save your equalitie? And if one be richer then another, will yee spoile him to maintaine an equalitie? If one beelder then another, will yee kill him for his equalities sake? How injurious are yee to God himselfe, who intendeth to bestow his gifts as he himselfe listeth, and yee seek by wicked insur­rections to make him give them commonly alike to all men, as your vaine fansie liketh. Why would yee haue an equalitie in riches, & in other gifts of God there is no meane sought? Either by ambition yee seek Lordlinesse, much unfit for you; or by covet­ousnesse yee be unsatiable, a thing likely enough in you; or else by folly yee be not content with your e­state, a fansie to be plucked out of you. But and we being weary of poverty would seek to enrich our selves, we should goe a farre other way to work then this, and so should we rightly come to our desire. Doth not Saint Peter teach us afore God a right way to honour, to riches, to all necessary and profitable things for us? He saith, humble your selves, that God might exalt you: and cast all your care on him, for he careth for you. He teacheth the way to all good things at Gods hand, is to be humble, and you exalt your selves. Yee seek things after such a sort, as if the servant should anger his master, when hee seeketh to have a good turne on him. Yee would [Page 11] have riches I think, at Gods hand who giveth all ri­ches, and yet yee take the way cleane contrary to ri­ches. Know yee not that he that exalteth himselfe, God will throwe him downe? How can yee get it then, by thus setting out your selves: Yee should submit you by humilitie one to another, and yee set up your selves by arrogancy above the Magistrates. See herein how much yee offend God. Remember yee not, that if yee come nigh to God, he will come nigh unto you? If then yee goe from God, he will goe from you. Doth not the Psalme say, he is holy with the holy, and with the wicked man hee is fro­ward? Even as hee is orderd of men, hee will order them againe. If yee would follow his will, and obey his commandements, yee should eat the fruits of the earth, saith the Prophet: if not, the sword shall de­voure you. Yee might have eaten the fruits of this seasonable yeare, if yee had not by disobedience re­belled against God. Now not only yee cannot eate that which your selves did first sow by labour, and now destroy by sedition, but also if the Kings Maje­sties sword came not against you, as just policie re­quireth, yet the just vengeance of God would light among you, as his word promiseth, and your cruell wickednesse deserveth.

For whatsoever the causes be, that have moved your wild affections herein, as they be unjust causes, and increase your faults much, the thing it selfe, the rifing I meane, must needs be wicked and horrible afore God, and the usurping of authoritie, & taking in hand of rule, which is the sitting in Gods seat of [Page 12] justice, and a proud clyming up into Gods high throne, must needs be not only cursed newly by him, but also hath been oftne punished afore of him. And that which is done to Gods officer, God accounteth it done to him. For they despise not the minister, as he saith himselfe, but they despise him: and that pre­sumption of challenging Gods seat, doth shew you to have been Lucifers, and sheweth us that God will punish you like Lucifers. Wherefore rightly look, as yee duly have deserved, either for great vengeance for your abominable transgression, or else earnestly repent with unfained minds, your wicked doings: & either with example of death be content to dehort others, or else by faithfulnesse of obedience declare how great a service it is to God, to obey your Ma­gistrates faithfully, and to serve in subjection truly.

Well, if yee had not thus grievously offended God, whom yee ought to worship, what can yee reasonably think it, to bee no fault against the King. whom yee ought to reverence? Yee be bound by Gods word to obey your King, and is it no break of duty to withstand your King? If the servant be bound to obey his master in the familie, is not the subject bound to serve the King in his Realmē. The childe is bound to the private father, and be we not all bound to the common-wealths father? If wee ought to be subject to the King for Gods sake, ought we not then, I pray you, to be faithfully subject to the King? If we ought dutifully to shew all obedi­ence to heathen Kings, shall wee not willingly and truly be subject to Christian Kings? If one ought to [Page 13] submit himselfe by humilitie to another, ought we not all by dutie to be subject to our King? If the members of our naturall body all follow the head, shall not the members of the politicall body all obey the King? If good manners be content to give place, the lower to the higher, shall not religion teach us alway to give place to the highest? If true subjects will dye gladly in the Kings service, should not all subjects think it dutie to obey the King with just service? But you have not only disobeyed, like ill sub­jects; but also taken stoutly rule upon you, like wic­ked Magistrats. Yee have been called to obedience, by counsell of private men, by the advice of the Kings Majesties Councell, by the Kings Majesties free pardon, but what counsell taketh place where sturdinesse is law, and churlish answers bee counted wisdome? Who can perswade where treason is a­boue reason, and might ruleth right, and it is had for lawfull whatsoever is lustfull, & commotioners are better then commissioners, and common woe is na­med commonwealth? Have yee not broken his laws, disobeyed his Councell, rebelled against him? And what is the commonwealth worth, whē the law which is indifferent for all men, shall be wilfully and spightfully broken of head-strong men, that seek a­gainst lawes to order lawes; that thos may take place, not what the consent of wise men hath ap­pointed, but what the lust of Rebells hath determi­ned. What unthriftinesse is in ill seruants, wicked­nesse in unnaturall children, sturdinesse in unruly subjects, crueltie in fierce enimies, wildnesse in beast­ly [Page 14] mindes, pride in disdainfull hearts, that floweth now in you: which haue fled from housed conspira­cies to encamped robberies; and are better contented to suffer famine, cold, travell, to glut your lusts, then to liue in quietnesse, to saue the Commonwealth: & think more liberty in wilfulnesse, then wisdome in dutifulnesse: and so run head-long not to the mis­chiefe of other, but to the destructiō of your selues, and undoe by folly that yee intend by mischiefe, neither seeing how to remedie that yee judge faulty, nor willing to save your selves from miserie, which stiffe-neckednesse cannot doe, but honestie of obedi­ence must frame.

If authoritie would serve, under a King the Coun­cell have greatest authoritie; if wisdome and gravity might take place, they be of most experience; if knowledge of the Commonwealth could help, they must by daily conference of matters understand it best: yet neither the authority that the Kings Ma­jestie hath given them, nor the gravity which you knowe to be in them, nor the knowledge which with great travell they have gotten, can move yee either to keep you in the duty yee ought to doe, or to a­void the great disorder wherein yee be. For where disobedience is thought stoutnesse, and fullennesse is counted manhood, and stomaking is courage, and prating is judged wisdome, and the elvishest is most meet to rule, how can other just authority be obey­ed, or sad counsell be followed, or good knowledge of matters be heard, or commandments of Councel­lours be considered? And how is the King obeyed, [Page 15] whose wisest be withstāded, the disobediētest obey­ed, the high in authority not weighed, the unskilful­lest made chiefe Captaines, to the Noblest most hurt intended, the braggingest brawler to be most safe. And even as the viler parts of the body would contende in knowledge & government with the five wits, so doe the lower parts of the Commonwealth enterprise as high a matter, to strive against their du­tie of obedience to the Councell.

But what talke I of disobedience so quietly? have not such mad rages run in your heads, that forsaking and bursting the quietnesse of the common peace, yee have hainously & Traiterously encamped your selfe in field, & there like a byle in a body, nay like a sinke in a towne, have gathered together all the na­sty vagabonds, and idle loiterers, to beare armour a­gainst him, with whom all godly and good subjects will live and dye withall? If it be a fault, when two fight together, and the Kings peace broken, and pu­nishment to be sought therefore, can it be but an outragious and a detestable mischiefe, when so many Rebells in number, malitious in minde, mischievous in enterprise, fight, not among themselves, but a­gainst all the Kings true and obedient subjects, and seek to prove whether rebellion may beat down lio­nesty, and wickednesse may overcome truth or no? If it be treason to speake hainously of the Kings Ma­jestie, who is not hurt thereby, and the infamie re­turneth to the speaker againe, what kinde of outragi­ous and horrible treason is it to assemble in campe­an armie against him, and so not only intende an o­verthrowe [Page 16] to him, and also to his Commonwealth, but also to cast him into an infamie through all out­ward and strange nations, and perswade them that he is hated of his people, whom he cannot rule, and that they be no better then villaines, which will not with good orders be ruled. What death can be de­vised cruell enough for those Rebells, who with trouble seeke death, and cannot quench the thirst of their rebellion, but with the bloud of true sub­jects, and hate the Kings mercifull pardon, when they miserably have transgressed, and in such an out­rage of mischiefe will not by stubbornesse acknow­ledge themselves to have faulted, but intende to broyle the Commonwealth with the flame of their treason, and as much as lyeth in them, not onely to annoy themselves, but to destroy all other. He that is miscontented with things that happen, and because he cannot beare the misery of them, renteth his haire, and teareth his skinne, and mangleth his face, which easeth not his sorrow, but increaseth his mi­sery, may he not be justly called mad and phantasti­call, aad worthie whose wisdome should be suspe­cted? And what shall we say of them, who being in the Commonwealth, feeling a soare grievous unto them, and easie to have been amended, sought not the remedy, but haue increased the griefe, and like frantick beasts, raging against their head, doe teare and deface as much as lyeth in them, his whole au­thoritie in government, and violently take to them­selves that rule on them, which he by policie hath granted unto other. And who waighing well the [Page 17] heavinesse of the fault, may not justly say and hold them to be worse herein then any kinde of bruite beasts. For we see that the sheep will obey the Shep­heard, and the Nete be ruled by the Nete-heard, & the Horse will know his keeper, and the Dog will be in awe of his Master, and every one of them feed there, and of that, as his keeper and ruler doth ap­point him; and goeth from thence, and that, as he is forbidden by his ruler. And yet we have not heard of, that any Heard or company of these have risen against their Herdmen or governour, but be alwaies contented not only to obey them, but also to suffer them to take profit of them. And wee see further­more, that all Herds, and all sorts, be more eager in fiercenesse against all kinde of strangers, then they be against their owne rulers, and will easier offend him who hath not hurt them, than touch their ruler who seeketh profit on them. But yee that ought to be governed by your Magistrates, as the Herds by the Herdman, and ought to be like sheep to your King, who ought to be like a Shepheard unto you, even in the time when your profit was sought, and better redresse was intended then your upstirres and unquietnesse could obtaine, have beyong the cruel­tie of all beasts, fouly risen against your ruler, and shewed your selves worthie to be orderd like beasts, who in kinde of obedience will fall from the state of men. A Dog stoupeth when he is beaten of his Ma­ster: not for lack of stomack, but for naturall obedi­ence: you being not striken of your head, but favou­red; not kept downe, but succoured, and remedied [Page 18] by law, have violently against law, not onely barked like beasts, but also bitten like hell-hounds. What, is the mischiefe of sedition, either not known unto you, or not feared? Have not examples aforetimes, both told the end of Rebels, and the wickednesse of re­bellion it selfe? But as for old examples, let them passe for a while, as things well to be considered, but at this present one thing more to be waighed. Looke upon your selves, after yee have wickedly stept into this horrible kinde of treason, doe yee not see how many bottomlesse whirlepooles of mischiefe yee be gulpht withall, and what loathsome kindes of rebel­lion yee be faine to wade through?

Yee have sent out in the Kings name, against the Kings will, precepts of all kindes, and without com­mandment commanded his subjects, & unrulily have ruled, where yee listed to command, thinking your own fansies the Kings commandements, and rebels lusts in things to be right government of things, not looking what should follow by reason, but what your selves follow by affection. And is it not a dan­gerous and a cruell kinde of treason, so to give out precepts to the Kings people? There can be no just execution of laws, reformation of faults, giving out of commandments, but from the King. For in the King onely is the right hereof, and the authoritie of him derived by his appointment to his Ministers. Yee having no authority of the King, but taking it of your selves, what think yee your selves to be? Mi­nisters yee be none, except yee be the Divels Mini­sters, for he is the author of sedition. The Kings Ma­jestie [Page 19] intendeth to maintaine peace, and to oppresse warre, yee stirre up uproares of people, hurlie burlies of vagabonds, routs of robbers, is this any part of the Kings ministery? If a vagabond would doe what him lust, and call himselfe your servant, and ex­ecute such offices of trust, whether yee would or no, as yee have committed to another mans credit, what would every one of you say or doe herein? Would yee suffer it? Yee wander out of houses, yee make every day new matters as it pleaseth you, yee take in hand the execution of those things, God by his word forbidding the same, which God hath put the Ma­gistrates in trust withall. What can yee say to this? Is it sufferable think yee? If yee told a private mes­sage in another mans name, can it be but a false lye I pray yee? And to tell a fained message to the Com­monwealth, and that from the King, can it be honest think yee? To command is more then to speake, what is it then to command so traiterous a lye? This then which is in word a deceitfull lye, and in deed a traiterous fact, noysome to the Commonwealth, unhonourable to the King, mischievous in you, how can you otherwise judge of it, but to be an unheard of and notable disobedience to the King, and there­fore by notable example to be punished, and not with gentlenesse of pardon to be forgiven.

Yee have robbed every honest house, and spoiled them unjustly, & pittifully wronged poore men be­ing no offenders, to their utter undoing, and yet yee think yee have not broken the Kings lawes. The Kings Majesties law and his commandment is, that [Page 20] every man should safely keep his own, and use it rea­sonably to an honest gaine of his living: Yee violent­ly take and carry away from men without cause, all things whereby they should maintaine, not onely themselves, but also their familie, and leave them so naked, that they shall feele the smart of your cursed enterprise, longer then your own unnaturall and un­godly stomacks would well vouchsafe. By justice yee should neither hurt nor wrong man; and your pretensed cause of this monstrous stirre, is to in­crease mens wealth: and yet how many, and say truth, have yee decayed and undone, by spoiling and taking away their goods? How should honest men live quietly in the Commonwealth at any time, if their goods either gotten by their own labour, or left to them by their friends, shall unlawfully and unor­derly, to the feeding of a sort of Rebels, be spoiled and wasted, and utterly scattered abroad? The thing yee take, is not your right, it is another mans owne. The manner of taking against his will, is unlawfull, and against the order of every good Common­wealth. The cause why yee take it, is mischievous & horrible, to fat up your sedition. Yee that take it, be wicked ttaitours, and common enimes of all good order. If he that desireth another mans goods or cattle, doe fault, what doth he, think you, whose de­sire taking followeth, and is led to and fro by Iust, as his wicked fancie void of reason doth guide him? He that useth not his own well and charitably, hath much to answer for, and shall they be thought not unjust, who not only take away other mens, but also [Page 21] misuse and waste the same ungodly? They that take things privily away, and steale secretly and covertly other mens goods, be by law judged worthie death: and shall they, that without shame spoile things o­penly, and be not afraid by impudence to professe their spoile, be thought either honest creatures to God, or faithfull subjects to their King, or naturall men to their Countrie? If nothing had moved you but the example of mischiefe, and the foule practice of other moved by the same, yee should yet haue ab­stained from so licentious and so villanous a shew of robbery, considering how many honester there be that being loath their wickednesse should be blazed abroad, yet be found out by providence, and hanged for desert. What shall we then think or say of you? shall we call you pickers, or hid theeves? nay more then theeves, day theeves, Herd stealers, Sheire spoi­lers, and utter destroyers of all kinde of families, both among the poore, and also among the rich. Let us yet farther see, is there no more things wherein yee have broken the Kings lawes, and so uildly dis­obeyed him, contrary to your bounden dutie?

Yee have not only spoiled the Kings true sub­jects of their goods, but also yee have imprisoned their bodies, which should be at libertie under the King; and restrained them of their service, which by dutie they owe the King; and appaired both strength and health, wherewith they live and serve the King. Is there any honest thing more desired then liberty? yee have shamefully spoiled them thereof. Is there any thing more dutifull then to serve their Lord and [Page 22] Master? But as that was deserved of the one part, so was it hindered and stopped on your part. For nei­ther can the King be served, nor families kept, nor the Commonwealth looked unto, where freedome of liberty is stopped, and diligence of service is hin­dred, and the help of strength and health abated. Mens bodies ought to be free from all mens bon­dage and cruelty, and only in this Realme be subject in publike punishment to our publike Governour, and neither be touched of headlesse Captaines, nor holden of brainlesse Rebels. For the government of so pretious a thing, ought to belong unto the most noble ruler, and not justly to be in every mans pow­er, which is justly every living mans treasure. For what goods be so deare to every man as his owne body is, which is the true vessell of the minde to bee measurably kept of every man for all exercises and services of the minde. If yee may not of your own authority meddle with mens goods, much lesse you may of your own authoritie take order with mens bodies. For what be goods in comparison of health, libertie, and strength, which be all setled and fastned in the body. They that strike other, doe greatly of­fend and be justly punishable. And shall they that cruelly and wrongfully torment mens bodies with yrons, and imprisonments, be thought not of other, but of themselves honest, and plaine, and true dea­ling men? What shall we say by them, who in a pri­vate businesse will let a man to goe his journey in the Kings high way? Doe they not, think yee, plaine wrong? Then in a common cause, not onely to hin­der [Page 23] them, but also to deale cruelly with them, and shut them from doing their service to the King, and their dutie to the Commonwealth, is it not both disobedience, crueltie, and mischiefe think yee? What an hinderance is it, to have a good garment hurt, any jewell appaired, or any esteemed thing to be decayed? And seeing no earthly thing a man hath more pretious then his body, to cause it to be cruelly tormented with yrons, feebled with cold, weakned with ordering, can it be thought any other thing but wrong to the sufferer, crueltie in the doer, and great disobedience & transgression to the King: How then be yee able to defend it? But seeing yee so unpittifully vex men, cast them in prison, lade thē with yrons, pine them with famine, contrary to the rule of nature, contrary to the Kings Majesties laws, contrary to Gods holy ordinances, having no mat­ter, but pretensed and fained gloses, yee be not only disobedient to the King like Rebels, but withstan­ding the law of nature like beasts, and so worthie to dye like dogs, except the Kings Majestie, without respect of your deserving, doe mercifully grant you of his goodnesse, that which you cannot escape by justice.

Yet yee being not content with this, as small things enterprise great matters, and as though yee could not satisfie your selfe, if yee should leave any mischiefe undone, have sought bloud with crueltie, and have slaine of the Kings true subjects many, thinking their murder to be your defence, when as yee have increased the fault of your vile rebellion, [Page 24] with the horrour of bloudshed, and so have burde­ned mischiefe with mischiefe, while it come to an importable weight of mischiefe. What could wee doe more in the horriblest kinde of faults, to the greatest transgressours and offenders of God and men, then to look straightly on them by death, and so to rid them out of the Commonwealth by severe punishment, whom yee thought unworthie to live among men for their doings. And those who have not offended the King, but defended his Realme, & by obedience of service sought to punish the disobe­dient, and for safeguard of every man put them­selves under dutie of law, those have yee miserably and cruelly slaine, and bathed you in their bloud, whose doings yee should have followed: and so have appaired the Commonwealth, both by destruction of good men, and also by increase of Rebels. And how can that Commonwealth by any meanes in­dure, wherein every man without authoritie, may unpunished slay whom he list, and that in such case, as those who be slaine shew themselves most noble of courage, and most readie to serve the King and the Commonwealth, and those as doe slay be most villanous and traiterous Rebels that any Common­wealth did ever sustaine. For a Citie & a Province bee not the faire houses and the strong walls, nor the defence of any engine, but the living bodies of men, being able in number and strength to maintain themselves by good order of justice, and to serve for all necessarie and behoueable uses in the Common­wealth. And when as mans body being a part of the [Page 25] whole Commonwealth, is wrongfully touched any way, and specially by death, then suffereth the Com­monwealth great injurie, and that alway so much the more, how honester and nobler he is who is injuri­ously murdered. How was the Lord Sheffeld hand­led among you, a noble Gentleman, and of good ser­vice, both fit for counsell in peace, and for conduct in warre, considering either the gravitie of his wis­dome, or the authoritie of his person, or his service to the Commonwealth, or the hope that all men had in him, or the need that England had of such, or a­mong many notably good, his singular excellency, or the favour all men bare toward him, being loved of every man, and hated of no man. Considered yee, who should by dutie be the Kings Subjects, either how yee should not have offended the King, or after offence, have required the Kings pardon, or not to have refused his goodnesse offered, or at length to have yeelded to his mercy, or not to have slain those who came for his service, or to have spared those who in danger offered ransome. But all these things for gotten by rage of rebellion, because one madnesse cannot be without infinite vices, yee slew him cruel­ly, who offered himselfe manfully; nor would not spare for ransome, who was worthy for noblenesse to have had honour; and hewed him bare, whom yee could not hurt armed; and by slavery slew nobilitie; indeed miserably, in fashion cruelly, in cause divel­lishly. Oh with what cruell spite was violently sun­dred, so noble a body from so godly a mind? Whose death must rather be revenged then lamented, whose [Page 26] death was no lack to himselfe, but to his countrey; whose death might every way been better borne, then at a Rebels hand. Violence is in all things hurt­full, but in life horrible. What should I speake of o­thers in the same case, divers & notable, whose death for manhood and service, can want no worthy praise, so long as these ugly stirres of rebellion can bee had in minde. God hath himselfe joyned mans body & his soule together, not to be parted asunder, afore he either dissever them himselfe, or cause them to be dissevered by his minister. And shall Rebels and headlesse camps, being armed against God, and in field against their King, think it no fault to shed bloud of true subjects, having neither office of God, nor appointment of ministers, nor just cause of rebel­lion; He that stealeth any part of a mans substance, is worthie to loose his life. What shall we thinke of them, who spoile men of their liues, for the mainte­nance whereof, not only substance and riches bee sought for, but also all common wealths be devised. Now then, your own consciences should be made your judges, and none other set to give sentence a­gainst yee: seeing yee have been such bloudsheders; so hainous man-quellers, so horrible murderers; could you doe any other then plainly confesse, your foule and wicked rebellion to bee grievous against God, and traiterous to the King, and hurtfull to the Commonwealth? So many grievous faults meeting together in one sinke, might not onely have discou­raged, but also driven to desperation, any other ho­nest or indifferent mind. But what feele they, whose [Page 27] hearts so deep mischiefe hath hardned, and by vehe­mencie of affection be made unshamefast, and stop all discourse of reason, to let at large the full scope of their unmeasurable madnesse.

Private mens goods seeme litle to your unsatia­ble desires, yee have waxed greedie now upon Ci­ties, and have attempted mighty spoiles, to glut up, if you could, your wasting hunger. Oh how much have they need of, that will never be contented? and what riches can suffice any that will attempt high enterprises above their estate? Yee could not main­taine your camps with your private goods, with your neighbours portion, but yee must also attempt Cities, because yee sought great spoiles, with other mens losses, & had forgotten how yee lived at home honestly with your own, and thought them worthy death that would disquiet yee in your house, and pluck away that which yee by right of law thought to be your own. Herein see what yee would have done, spoiled the Kings Majesties subjects, weakned the Kings strength, overthrowne his townes, taken away his munition, drawne his subjects to like re­bellion, yea and as it is among forraine enimies in sacking of Cities, no doubt thereof, yee would have fallen to slaughter of men, ravishing of wives, de­flouring of Maidens, chopping of children, firing of houses, beating downe of streets, overthrowing of all together. For what measure have men in the in­crease of madnesse, when they cannot at the begin­ning stay themselves from falling into it. And if the besetting of one house to robbe it, be justly deemed [Page 28] worthie death, what shall we think of them that be­siege whole Cities for desire of spoile? We live un­der a King to serve him at all times, when hee shall need our strength, and shall yee then not only with­draw your selves, which ought as much to be obe­dient as we be, but also violently pluck other away too, from the dutie unto the which by Gods com­mandment all subjects be straightly bound, and by all lawes every nation is naturally led? The townes be not only the ornament of the Realme, but also the seat of Merchants, the place of Handycrafts, that men scattered in Villages, & needing divers things, may in litle roome know where to finde their lack. To overthrowe them then, is nothing else but to waste your owne commodities, so that when yee would buy a necessary thing for mony, yee could not tell where to find it. Munition serveth the King, not only for the defence of his own, but also for the invasion of his enimie. And if yee will then so strait­ly deale with him, that yee will not let him so much as defend his own, yee offer him double injurie, both that ye let him from doing any notable fact abroad, and also that yee suffer not him quietly to injoy his own at home. But herein hath notably appeared, what Cities have faithfully served and suffered ex­treame danger, not only of goods, but also of famine & dearth, rather then to suffer the Kings enimies to enter: and what white-liverd Cities have not onely not withstood them, but also with shame favoured them, and with mischiefe ayded them. And I would I might praise herein all Cities alike, which I would [Page 29] doe, if all were like worthie. For then I might shew more faith in subjects, then strength in Rebels, and testifie to men to come, what a generall faith every Citie bare to the Kings Majesty, whose age although it were not fit to rule, yet his subjects hearts were willing to obey: thinking not onely of his hope, which all men conceive hereafter to be in him, but also of the just kinde of government, which in his minoritie his Councell doth use among them. And here, how much, and how worthily may Exeter be commended? which being in the midst of Rebels, unvictualled, unfurnished, unprepared for so long a siege, did nobly hold out the continuall and dange­rous assault of the Rebell. For they sustained the vi­olence of the Rebell, not only when they had plenty enough of victuall, but also eleven or twelue daies after the extreame famine came on them, and living without bread, were in courage so manfull, and in dutie so constant, that they thought it yet much bet­ter to die the extreame death of hunger, shewing truth to their King, and love to their Countrie, than to giue any place to the Rebell, and favour him with ayde, although they might have done it with their lesse danger. Whose example, if Norwich had fol­lowed, & had not rather given place to traitour Ket, than to keep their duty; and had not sought more safeguard then honesty, and private hope more then common quietnesse, they had ended their rebellion sooner, and escaped themselves better, and saved the losse of the worthie Lord Sheffeld, in whom was more true service for his life, then in them for [Page 30] their goods. And although this cannot be spoken against certaine honest that were amongst them, whose praise was the greater, because they were so few: yet the greater number was such, that they not only obeyed the Rebell for feare, but also followed him for love, and did so traiterously order the Kings band under my Lord Marquesse, that they suffered more dammage out of their houses by the Townes­men, than they did abroad by the Rebels. Whose fault, as the Kings Majestie may pardon, so I would either the example might be forgotten, that no Ci­tie might hereafter follow the like, or the deed be so abhorred, that other hereafter would avoid the like shame, and learne to be noble by Exeter, whose truth doth not only deserve long praises, but also great re­ward.

Who then that would willingly defend yee, can say any thing for yee, which have so diversly faul­ted, so traiterously offended, not only against private men severally, but also generally against whole Townes: and that after such a sort, as outward eni­mies, full of deadly feud, could not more cruelly in­vade them. And thus the Kings Majestie dishonou­red, his Councell disobeyed, the goods of the poore spoiled, the houses of the wealthy sacked, honest mens bodies imprisoned, worthie mens personages slaine, Cities besieged and threatned, and all kind of things disordered: can yee without teares and repen­tance heare spoken of, which without honesty and godlinesse yee practised, & not finde in your hearts now to returne to dutie, which by witchcraft of se­dition, [Page 31] were drowned in disorder? Have yee not in disorder first grievously offended God, next traite­rously risen against your King, and so neither wor­thy everlasting life, as long as yee so remaine, nor yet civill life, being in such a breach of common quietnesse. If every one of these cannot by them­selves pluck you back from these your lewd & out­ragious enterprises, yet let altogether stirre yee, or at least be a fearefull example to other, to beware by your unmeasurable folly, how they doe so far pro­voke God, or offend man, and find by your mistem­per to be themselves better ordered, and learne still to obey, because they would not repent, and so to live with honestie, that they would neither willingly offend Gods law, nor disobey mans.

But and yee were so much blered, that you did think impossible things; and your reason gaue yee against all reason, that yee neither displeased God herein, nor offended the King: yet be yee so blinde, that yee understand not your own case, nor your neighbours misery, nor the ruine of the whole com­monwealth, which doth evidently follow your so foule and detestable sedition? Doe yee not see, how for the maintenance of these ungodly rablements, not only Cities and Villages, but also Shieres and Countries be utterly distroyed? Is not their corne wasted, their cattle fetcht away, their houses rifled, their goods spoiled, and all to feed your up-rising without reason, and to maintaine this tumult of Re­bellion, invented of the Divell, continued by you, & to be overthrowne by the power of Gods migh­ty [Page 32] hand? And why should not so hurtfull wasting & herrying of Countries, be justly punished with great severitie, seeing robbing of houses, & taking of pur­ses, doe by law deserve the extremitie of death? How many suffer injurie, when one hundred of a Shiere is spoiled? and what injury, think yee, is done, when not only whole Shieres be destroied, but also every quarter of the Realme touched? Haue yee not brought upon us all poverty, weaknesse, and hatred within the Realme? and discourage, shame, & dam­mage, without the Realme? If yee miserably inten­ded, not onely to undoe other, but also to destroy your selves, and to overthrow the whole Realme, could yee have taken a readier way to your own ru­ine, then this is?

And first, if yee be any thing reasonable, lift up your reason, & waigh by wisdome, if not all things, yet your own cases: and learne in the beginning of matters, to foresee the end; and so judge advisedly, ere yee enter into any thing hastily. See yee not this yeare the losse of Harvest? And think yee, yee can grow to wealth that yeare, when yee lose your thrist and profit? Barnes be poore mens storehouses, wherein lieth a great part of every mans own living, his wiues and his childrens living, wherewith men maintaine their families, pay their rents, and there­fore be alwaies thought most rich when they have best crops. And now when there is neither plentie of hay, nor sufficient of strawe, nor corne enough, & that through the great disorder of your wicked re­bellion, can yee think yee to doe well, when yee un­doe [Page 33] your selves; and judge it a Commonwealth, when the Commons are destroyed; & seek your hap by unhappinesse; and esteeme your own losse, to bee your own forwardnesse, and by this judgement shew your selves, how litle you understand other mens matters, when yee can scarcely consider the waigh­tiest f your own? Hath not the hay this yeere, as it rose from the ground, so rotted to the ground again? and where it was wont by mens seasonable labour, to be taken in due time, and then serve for the main­tenance of horse and cattle, wherewith we live, now by your disordered mischiefe hath been by mens idlenesse and undutifulnesse, let alone untouched: & so neither serveth the poore to make mony of, nor a­ny cattle to live with. The corne was sowne with la­bour, and the ground tilled for it with labour, and looked to be brought home againe with labour, and for lack of honest labourers, is lost on the ground: the owners being loyterers, and seeking other mens, have lost their own, and hoping for mountaines, lac­ked their present thrift, neither obtaining that they sought, nor seeking that they ought. And how shall men live when the maintenance of their provision is lacking? For labouring and their old store is wasted by wildnesse of sedition, and so neither spare the old nor save the new. How can men be fedde then, or beasts live, when as such wastfull negligence is mise­rably used, and mispending the time of their profit, in shamefull disorder of inobedience, they care not greatly what becomes of their own, because they intend to live by other mens? Hay is gone, corne is [Page 34] wasted, strawe is spoiled: what reckoning of harvest can yee make, either for the aid of others, or for the reliefe of your selves? And thus have yee brought in one kinde of misery, which if yee saw before, as yee be like to feele after, although yee had hated the Commonwealth, yet for love of your selves, yee would have avoided the great enormitie thereof, into the which yee wilfully now have cast in your selves.

Another no lesse is, that such plenty of victuall, as was abundantly in every quarter, for the reliefe of us all, is now all wastfully and unthriftfully spent, in maintaining you unlawfull Rebels, and so with dis­order all is consumed, which with good husbandry might long have endured. For so much as would have served a whole yeare at home, with diligent & skilfull heed of husbandrie, that is wilfully wasted in a moneth in the Camp, through the ravening spoil of villany. For what is unordered plenty, but a wast­full spoile? whereof the inconvenience is so great, as yee be worthie to feele, & bringeth in more hard­nesse of living, greater dearth of all things, and occa­sioneth many causes of diseases. The price of things must needs increase much, when the number of things waxeth lesse, and by scarcitie be inhansed, and compelleth men to abate their liberality in house, both to their own, and also to strangers. And where the rich wanteth, what can the poore finde? who in a common scarcitie, liveth most scarcely, and feeleth quickliest the sharpnesse of starving, when every man for lack is hungerbitten: which if yee had well re­membred [Page 35] before, as yee now may after perceive, yee would not I think so stiffneckedly have resisted, and endangered your selfe in the storm of famine, where­of yee most likely must have the greatest part, which most stubbornly resisted, to your own shame and confusion.

Experience teacheth us, that after a great dearth, commeth a great death, for that when men in great want of meat eat much ill meat, they fill their bodies with ill humours, and cast them from their state of health, into a subjection of sicknesse, because the good bloud in the body is not able to keep his tem­per for the multitude of the ill humours that corrup­teth the same. And so grow great and deadly plagues, and destroy great numbers of all sorts, spa­ring no kinde that they light on, neither respecting the poore with mercy, nor the rich with favour. Can yee therefore think herein, when yee see decay of victuals, the rich pinch, the poore famish, the fol­lowing of diseases, the greatnesse of death, the mour­ning of widowes, the pittifulnesse of the fatherlesse, and all this misery to come through your unnaturall misbehaviour, that yee have not dangerously hurt the Commons of your country, with a dolefull and an uncurable wound? These things being once felt in the Commonwealth, as they must needs be, every man seeth by and by what followeth, a great dimi­nishment of the strength of the Realme, when the due number that the Realme doth maintain is made lesse, and thereby we be made rather a prey for our enimies, then a safetie for our selves.

[Page 36] And how can there be but a great decay of peo­ple at the length, when some be overthrown in war, some suffer for punishment, some pine for famine, some die with the camps diet, some be consumed with sicknesse. For although you think your selves able to match with a few unprepared Gentlemen, & put them from their houses, that yee might gaine the spoile, doe yee judge therefore your selves strong enough, not only to withstand a Kings power, but also to overthrow it? Is it possible that yee should have so mad a frensie in your head, that yee should think the number yee see so strong, that all yee see not, should not be able to prevaile to the contrarie? With what reason could yee think, that if yee bode the hot brunt of battle, but yee must needs feele the smart, specially the Kings power comming against you, which if yee feare not, belike yee knowe not the force thereof? And so much the greater number is lost in the Realme, that both the overcommer, and the overcommed be parties, although unlike, of one Realme: and what losse is, not onely of either side, but of both, that doth plainly redown to the whole. Then where so great and so horrible a fault is com­mitted, as worse cannot be mentioned of, from the beginning, and bringeth in withall such penury, such weaknesse, such disorder in the Commonwealth, as no mischiefe beside could doe the like: can any man think with just reason that all shall escape unpunish­ed, that shall escape the sword; & not many for ter­rour and example sake, should be looked unto, who haue been either great doers in such a disordered [Page 37] villanie, or great Counsellours to such an outgrown mischiefe, seeing the only remedy of redressing wil­full faults, is a just and a severe punishment of such, whose naughty deeds good men ought to abhorre for duties sake, & ill men may dread for like punish­ments sake: and a free licence to doe mischiefe unpu­nished, is so dangerous, that the sufferance of one, is the occasion of the fall of a great number; and wo­manish pittie to one, is a deceitfull crueltie to the whole, inticing them to their own destructiō by suf­ferance, which would have avoided the danger by fore-punishment.

And in such a barrennesse of victuall, as must needs come after so ravening a spoile, it must needs be, that some, though few, shall be so nipt with ea­gernesse of famine, that they shall not recover againe themselues out of so fretting a danger. So in a gene­rall weaknesse, where all shall be feebled, some must needs die, and so diminish the number, and abate such strength, as the Realme defended it selfe with­all afore. Which occasion of never so few, comming of so great a cause, if yee should make just amends for, not of recompence, which yee could not; but of punishment, which yee ought, how many, how di­vers, and how cruell deaths, ought every one of yee often suffer? How many came to the Camps from long labour to suddaine ease, and from meane fare to stroying of victuall, and so fell in a manner una­wares, to such a contrary change, that nature her self abiding never great and suddaine changes, cannot beare it without some grounds entred of diseases to [Page 38] come, which uncircumspect men shall sooner feele then think of, and then will scarcely judge the cause, when they shall be vexed with the effect. It is litle marvell that idlenesse, and meat of another mans charge, will soone feed up & fat likely men: but it is great marvell if idlenesse & other mens meat doe not abate the same by sicknesse againe, & specially com­ming from the one, and going to the other, contrary in those who violently seek to turn in a moment, the whole Realme to the contrary. For while their minde changeth from obedience to unrulinesse, and turneth it selfe from honesty to wildnesse, and their bodies goe from labour to idlenesse, from small fare to spoile of victuall, and from beds in the night to cabins, and from sweet houses to stinking camps, it must needs be by changing of affections which alter the body, and by using of rest that filleth the body, and glutting of meats which weakneth the body, & with cold in the nights which acrazeth the body, & with corrupt ayre which infecteth the body, that there follow some grievous tempest, not onely of contagious sicknesse, but also of present death to the body.

The greatest pluck of all, is that vehemence of plague, which naturally followeth the dint of hun­ger, which when it entreth once among men, what darts of pangues, what throwes of paines, what shouts of death doth it cast out, how many fall, not astonied with the sicknesse, but fretted with the pain, how beateth it downe, not only small townes, but also great countries?

[Page 39] This when yee see light first on your beasts, which lacke fodder, and after fall on men, whose bodies gape for it, and see the scarcenesse of men to be by this your foule enterprise, and not onely other men touched with plagues, but also your own house stung with death, and the plague also raised of your rising, to fire your selves, can yee think to be any o­ther, but manquellers of other, and murderers of your selves, and the principalls of the overthrow of so great a number, as shall either by sword or pu­nishment, famine, or some plague, or pestilence be consumed, and wasted out of the Commonwealth? And seeing he that decayeth the number of Cotta­ges, or Plowes in a Towne, seemeth to be an enimie to the Commonwealth, shall we not count him, not only an enimie, but also a murtherer of his country, who by hare-brained unrulinesse, causeth the utter ruine, and pestilent destruction of so many thousand men? Grant this folly then and oversight to be such as worthily yee may count it, and I shall goe further in declaring of other great inconveniences, which your dangerous & furious misbehaviour hath hurt­fully brought in, seeing divers honest and true dea­ling men, whose living is by their own provision, hath come so afore-hand by time, that they haue been able well, to liue honestly in their houses, and pay besides their rents of their farmes truly, & now have by your cruelty and abhorred insurrections lost their goods, their cattle, their harvest, which they had gotten before, and wherewith they inten­ded to live hereafter, and now be brought to this ex­tremitie, [Page 40] that they be neither able to live, as they were wont at home afore, nor to pay their accusto­mable rent at their due time. Whereby they bee brought into trouble and unquietnesse, not only mu­sing what they have lost by you, but also cursing you by whom they have lost it, and also in danger of lo­sing their holds at their Lords hands, except by pit­tie they shew more mercy then the right of the law will grant by justice. And what a griefe is it to an ho­nest man, to labour truly in youth, & to gaine pain­fully by labour, wherewith to live honestly in age, and to have this, gotten in long time, to be suddenly raught away by the violence os sedition? which name he ought to abhorre by it selfe, although no misery of losse followed to him thereby. But what greater griefe ought seditious Rebels to have them­selves, who if they be not striken with punishment, yet ought to pine in conscience, and melt away with the griefe of their own faults, when they see inno­cents and men of true service, hindred and burdened with the hurt of their rebellion, and who in a good Commonwealth, should for honesties sake prosper, they by these Rebels only meanes, be cast so behinde the hand, as they cānot recover easily again by their own truth, that which they have lost by those trai­tours mischiefe. And if unjust men ought not so to bee handled at any mans hands, but only stand to the order of a law, how much more should true and faithfull subjects, who deserve praise, feele no un­quietnesse, nor be vexed with sedition, who be obe­diently in subjection, but rather seek just amends at [Page 41] false Rebels hands, and by law obtain that they lost by disorder, and so constraine you to the uttermost, to pay the recompence of wrongfull losses, because yee were the authors of these wrongfull spoiles. Then would yee soon perceive the Commōwealths hurt, not when others felt it who deserved it not, but when you smarted who caused it, and stood not & looked upon other mens losses, which yee might pittie, but tormented with your owne, which yee would lament.

Now I am past this mischiefe, which yee will not hereafter deny, when yee shall praise other mens foresight, rather then your wicked doings, in bewai­ling the end of your furie in whose beginning yee now rejoyce. What say yee to the number of vaga­bonds and loytring beggers, which after the over­throw of your camp and scattering of this seditious number, will swarme in every corner of the Realm, and not only ly loitring under hedges, but also stand sturdily in Cities, aud beg boldly at every dore, lea­ving labour which they like not, and following idle­nesse which they should not. For every man is easily and naturally brought from labour to ease, from the better to the worse, from diligence to sloathfulnesse, and after warres it is commonly seen, that a great number of those which went out honest, returne home againe like roisters, and as though they were burnt to the warres bottome, they have alltheir life after an unsavory smack thereof, and smell still to­ward day-sleepers, pursse-pickers, high-way-rob­bers, quarrel-makers, yea and bloud-sheders too. [Page 42] Doe we not see commonly in the ende of warres more robbing, more begging, more murdering then before, and those to stand in the high way to aske their almes, whom yee be afraid to say nay unto ho­nestly, least they take it away from you violently, and have more cause to suspect their strength, then pitty their need. Is it not then daily heard, how men be not only pursued, but utterly spoiled, and few may ride safe by the Kings way, except they ride strong, not so much for feare of their goods, which men e­steeme lesse, but also for danger of their life, which every man loveth. Worke is undone at home, and loiterers linger in streets, lurke in Ale-houses, range in high-waies, valiant beggers play in townes, & yet complaine of need, whose staffe if it be once hot in their hand, or sluggishnesse bred in their bosomes, they will never be allured to labour againe, conten­ting the themselves better with idle beggery, then with honest and profitable labour. And what more noy­some beasts to be in a Commonwealth? Drones in Hives suck out the hony, a small matter, but yet to be looked on by good husbands. Caterpillers de­stroy the fruit, an hurtfull thing and well shifted for, by a diligent overseer. Divers vermin destroy corn, kill Pullein, engines and snares be made for them. But what is a loyterer? A sucker of Honie, a spoiler of corne, a destroyer of fruit, nay a waster of mony, a spoiler of victuall, a sucker of bloud, a breaker of orders, a seeker of breakes, a queller of life, a Basi­liske of the Commonwealth, which by company & sight, doth poyson the whole Countrey, & staineth [Page 43] honest mindes, with the infection of his venome, and so draweth the Commonwealth to death and destru­ction. Such is the fruit of your labour, and travell for your pretensed Commonwealth, which justice would no man should tast of but your selves, that yee might truely judge of your own mischiefe, and fray other by example from presuming the like. When we see a great number of flyes in a yeare, wee naturally judge it like to be a great plague, & having so great a swarming of loytering vagabonds, ready to begge and brawle at every mans dore, which de­clare a greater infection, can we not look for a grie­vouser and perillouser danger then the plague is? Who can therefore otherwise deeme; but this one deadly hurt, where with the Commonwealth of our nation is wounded, beside all other is so pestilent, that there can be no more hurtfull thing in a wel go­verned state, nor more throwne into all kinde of vice and unrulinesse, and therefore this your sedition is not only most odious, but also most horrible, that hath spotted the whole Countrey with such a staine of idlenesse.

There can be no end of faults, if a man rehearse all faults that doe necessary follow this unruly sturdi­nesse. For not only vagabonds wandering and scat­tering themselves for mischiefe, shall run in a mans eyes, but also disorder of every degree, shall enter in into a mans minde, & shall behold hereby the Com­monwealth miserably defaced by you, who should as much as other, have kept your selves in order in it. Neither be the Magistrates duly obeyed, nor the [Page 44] lawes justly feared, nor degrees of men considered, nor Masters well served, nor Parents truly reveren­ced, nor Lords remembred of their tenants, nor yet other naturall, or civill Law much regarded. And it is plainly unpossible that that Countrey shall well stand in government, & the people grow to wealth, where order in every state, is not fitly observed, and that body cannot be without much griefe of infla­mation, where any least part is out of joint, or not duly set in his own naturall place. Wherefore order must be kept in the Commonwealth like health in the body, and all the drift of policie looketh to this end, how this temper may bee safely maintained, without any excesse of unmeasurablenesse, either of the one side or of the other. And easie enough it is to keep the same, when it is once brought into the meane, and to hold it in the stay it is found in, but when it bursteth out once with a vehemence, & hath gotten into an unruly disorder, it spreadeth so fast, & overfloweth all honest mens resisting so violently, that it will be hard to recover the breach of long time againe, except with great and wise counsell, which no doubt shall be in season used, there be won­derfull remedies sought therefore. And even as a man falling, is easier holden up by stay, than when he is fallen downe, he is able to rise againe, so is the Commonwealth slipping, by the foresight of wis­dome, better kept from ruine, then when it is once fallen into any kinde of misery, the same may be cal­led againe to the old and former state. Doe we not evidently know, that a man may, better keep his arm [Page 45] or his leg from breaking or falling out of joint, afore hurt come to it, then after the hurt, it may safely and quietly be healed, & restored to the former strength and health againe? And now through your seditious meanes, things that were afore quiet and in good or­der, lawes feared and obeyed, subjects ruled & kept in dutie, be all now in a great disorder, and like if it be not holpen, to grow to wildnesse, and a beastli­nesse, seeing that neither common dutie can be kept, which nature prescribeth, nor common law can bee regarded, which policie requireth. How can yee keep your own if yee keep no order, your wife and children, how can they be defended from other mens violence, if yee will in other things break all order, by what reason would yee be obeyed of yours as servants, if yee will not obey the King as subjects, how would ye have others deale orderly with you, if yee will use disorder against all others? Seeing then there is such a confusion now of things, such a turmoile of men, such a disorder of fzashions, who can look to live quietly a great while, who can think but that yee have miserably tossed the Common­wealth, and so vexed all men with disorder, that the inconvenience hereof, cannot only nip others, but al­so touch you.

But now see how that not only these unlooked for mischiefes, have heavily growne on yee, but also those commodities which yee thought to have hol­pen your selves and others by, be not only hindered but also hurt thereby. The Kings Majestie by the advise &c. intended a just reformation, of all such [Page 46] things as poore men could truly shew themselves oppressed with, thinking equalitie of justice, to bee the Diadem of his Kingdome, and the safegard of his commons. Which was not onely intended by wisdome, but also set on with speed, and so entred into a due considering of all states, that none should have just cause to grudge against the other, when as every thing rightfully had, nothing could be but un­rightfully grudged at. And this would have beene done, not onely with your glad and willing assent, but also been done by this day almost throughout the whole Realme, so that quietly it had been obtai­ned without inconvenience, & speedily without de­lay. And whatsoever had been done by the Kings Majesties authoritie, that would by right have re­mained for ever, and so taken in law, that the contra­ry partie, neither could by justice, neither would by boldnesse, have enterprised the break thereof. But least wicked men should be wealthy, and they whose hearts be not truly bent to obedience, should obtain at the Kings hand, that they deserved not in a Com­monwealth, yee have marvellously & worthily hurt your selves, and graciously provided except the Kings goodnesse be more unto you then your own deserts can claime, that yee be not so much worthie as to be benefitted in any kinde, as yee be worthie to lose that ye have on every side. Yee have thought good to be your own reformers belike, not onely unnaturally mistrusting the Kings justice, but also cruelly and uncivilly dealing with your own neigh­bours. Wherein I would as yee have hurt the whole [Page 47] Realme, so ye had not enterprised a thing most dan­gerously to your selves, and most contrary to the thing yee intended. If yee had let things alone, thought good by your selves to be redressed, & du­tifully looked for the performance of that the Kings Majestie promised reformatiō, they should not have been undone at this time, as in a great sort of honest places they be, nor those countries who for their quietnesse be most worthie to be looked on, should have been unprovided for at this day. But this com­modity hath happened by the way, that it is evident­ly knowne by your mischiefe, that others dutie, who be most true to the King, and most worthie to bee done for, and who be most pernitious and traiterous Rebels. And it is not to be doubted, but they shall be considered with thanks, and finde just redresse without deserved misery, and you punished like Re­bels, who might have had both praise and profit like subjects. For that as yee have valiantly done of your selves, think yee it will stand any longer, then men feare your rage, which cannot endure long, and that yee shall not then bide the rigor of the law, for your private injuries, as yee used the furie of your braines in other mens oppressions? Will men suffer wrong at your hands when law can redresse, and the right of the Commonwealth will maintaine it, and good order in Countries will beare it? Yee amend faults as ill Chyrurgions heale sores, which when they seem to be whole above, they rankle at the bottom, and so be faine continually to be sore, or else be men­ded by new breaking of the skin. Your redresse see­meth [Page 48] to you perfect & good, yee have pulled down such things as yee would, yee think now all is well, yee consider no farther, yee seek not the bottome, yee see not the sore, that yee have done it by no law, yee have redressed it by no order, what then? If it be none otherwise searched then by you, it will not tarry long so, either it will be after continually, as it was afore your comming, or else it must be when all is done, amended by the King.

Thus have yee both lacked in the time, and mist in the doing, and yet besides that yee have done, which is by your doing to no purpose, yee have done the things with such inconveniences, as hath been both before rehearsed, and shall be after decla­red, that better it had been for you, never to have en­joyed the commoditie, if there be any, then to suffer the griefes that will ensue, which be very many. In every quarter some men whom yee set by will bee lost, which every one of you if yee have love in yee, would rather have lacked the profit of your inclo­sures, then cause such destruction of them, as is like by reason and judgement necessarily to follow. What Commonwealth is it then, to doe such abo­minable enterprises after so vile a sort, that yee hin­der that good yee would doe, and bring in that hurt yee would not, and so finde that yee seek not, & fol­low that yee lose, and destroy your selves by folly, rather then yee would be ordered by reason, and so have not so much amended your old sores, as brought in new plagues, which yee your selves that deserve them will lament, and we which have not [Page 49] deserved them may curse you for. For although the Kings Majestie &c. intended for your profits a re­formation in his Commonwealth, yet his pleasure was not, nor no reason gave it, that every subject should busily entermedle with it of their own head, but onely those whom his Councell thought most meet men for such an honest purpose. The Kings Majestie &c. hath godly reformed an unclean part of religion, and hath brought it to the true forme of the first Church that followed Christ, thinking that to be the truest, not what latter mens fancies have of themselves devised, but what the Apostles and their fellowes had at Christs hand received, and willeth the same to be knowne and set abroad to all his peo­ple. Shall every man now that listeth & fancieth the same, take in hand uncalled, to be a Minister, and to set forth the same, having no authoritie? Nay, though the thing were very godly that were done, yet the person must needs doe ill that enterpriseth it, because he doth a good thing after an ill sort, and looketh but on a litle part of dutie, considering the thing, and leaveth a great part unadvised, not consi­dering the person, when as in a well and justly done matter, not only these two things ought well to bee weighed, but also good occasion of time, and reaso­nable cause of the doing, ought also much to be set afore every doers eyes. Now in this your deed, the manner is ungodly, the thing unsufferable, the cause wicked, the person seditious, the time traiterous, and can yee possibly by any honest defence of reason, or any good conscience religiously grounded, deny that [Page 50] this malitious and horrible fault, so wickedly set on, is not only sinfull afore God, and traiterous to the King, but also deadly and pestilent to the whole Commonwealth of our Countrie, and so not onely overfloweth us with the miserie, but also overwhel­meth you with the rage thereof?

Yet further see, and yee be not weary, with the multitude of miseries, which yee have marvellously moved, what a yoke yee wilfully doe bring on your selves, in stirring up this detestable sedition, and so bring your selves into a further slavery, if you use your selves often thusinobediently. When common order of the law can take no place in unrusy and dis­obedient subjects, and all men will of wilfulnesse re­sist with rage, and think their own violence to be the best justice, then be wise Magistrates compelled by necessity, to seek an extreame remedie, where meane salves help not, and bring in the Martiall law, where none other law serveth. Then must yee be conten­ted to bide punishment without processe, condem­nation without witnesse, suspition is then taken for judgement, and displeasure may be just cause of your execution, & so without favour yee finde straitnesse, which without rule seek violence. Yee think it a hard law and unsufferable. It is so indeed, but yet good for a medicine. Desperate sicknesse in physick must have desperate remedies, for mean medicines will never help great griefes. So if yee cast your selves into such sharp diseases, yee must needs look for sharp medicines again at your Physitians hands. And worthie yee be to suffer the extremitie in a [Page 51] Commonwealth, which seek to doe the extremitie, and by reason must receive the like yee offer, and so be contented to bide the end willingly, which set on the beginning wilfully. For no greater shame can come to the Commonwealth, then that those sub­jects which should be obedient even without a law, cannot be contented to be ordered by the law, and by no meanes kept within their dutie, which should every way offend rather then in their dutie. It is a token that the subjects lack reason, when they for­sake law, and think either by their multitude to finde pardon, which cannot justly stretch to all, or else by strength to beare the stroke, which cannot prosper a­gainst a king. They must needs litle consider them­selves, who bring in this necessitie, rather to stand to the pleasure of a mans will, then to abide the reason of the law, and to be endangered more when another man listeth, than when himselfe offendeth. And this must necessarily follow if your rebellion thus conti­nue, and while yee seek to throwe downe the yoke which yee fancie your selves burdened withall, yee bring your selves in a greater bondage, leaving safe­tie and following danger, & putting your selves un­der the justice of them, whose favour yee might ea­sily have kept, if yee would willingly and dutifully have served. Now the Gentlemen be more in trust, because the Commons be untrusty, and they got by service, which yee lose by stubbornesse, & therefore must needs, if yee thus continue, have more authori­tie from the King, because yee would be in lesse sub­jection to the King, and that as yee will not doe of [Page 52] your selves, yee must be compelled to doe by others, and that yee refuse to doe willingly, think yee must be drawne to doe the same constrainedly. Which when it commeth to passe, as wisdome seeth in your faults that it must needs, what gaine yee then, or what profit can arise to you by rising, which might have found ease in sitting still, and what shally yee be at length the better for this turmoile, which be­side divers other incommodities rehearsed, shall be thus clogged with the unsufferable burden of the Martiall law.

Yet is there one thing behind, which me thinketh your selves should not forget, seeing that yee have given the cause, yee should duly look for the effect. Yee have spoiled, imprisoned, and threatned Gentle­men to death, and that with such hatred of minde, as may not well be borne: the cause thereof I speak not on, which tried will happily be not so great; but see the thing: set murther aside, it is the hainousest fault to a private man. What could more spightfully have been done against them, than ye have used with crueltie? Can this doe any other but breed in their stomacks great grudge of displeasure toward you, and engender such an hatred, as the weaker and the sufferer must needs beare the smart thereof. The Kings best kinde of government is so to rule his sub­jects, as a father ordereth his children, and best life of obedient subjects is one to behave himselfe to an­other as though they were brethren under the King their father. For love is not the knot onely of the Commonwealth, whereby divers parts be perfectly [Page 53] joyned together in one politique bodie, but also the strength and might of the same, gathering together into a small room with order, which scattered would else breed confusion and debate. Dissention we see in small houses, and thereby may take example to great common-wealths, how it not only decayeth them from wealth, but also abateth them from strength. Think small examples to take place in great matters, and the like though not so great to follow in them both, and thereby learn to judge of great things unknowne, by small things perceived. When bre­thren agree not in a house, goeth not the weakest to the walls? and with whom the father taketh part withall, is not he the likest to prevaile? Is it not wise­dome for a yonger brother, after the good will of the parents, to seek his eldest brothers favour, who under them is most able to doe for him? To seeke them both with honesty is wisedome, to loose them both by sullennesse is madnesse. Hath there not been daily benefits from the gentlemen to you, in some, more, and in some lesse, but in none considered; which they have more friendly offered, then you have gent­ly requited. This must ye lose, when ye will not be thankfull, and learn to gaine new good will by de­sert, when ye forsake the old friendship unprovoked. And ye must think that living in a common-wealth together, one kind hath need of an other, and yet a great sort of you more need of one gentleman, then one gentleman of a great sort of you: and though all be parts of one common-wealth, yet all be not like [Page 54] worthy parts, but all being under obedience, some kind in more subjection one way, and some kind in more seruice another way. And seeing ye be lesse a­ble by money and liberality, to deserue good will then other be, and your only kind of desert is to shew good will, which honest men doe well accept as much worth as money, have ye not much hindered and hurt your selfe herein, loosing that one kind of humanity which ye have only left, and turning it into cruelty which ye ought most to abhor, not only be­cause it is wicked of it selfe, but also most noy some to you. I can therefore for my part think no lesse herein, but ye must find some inconvenience he rein, if you follow your stifnesse still, & must needs judge that ye have wilfully brought on your selues such plagues, as the like could not have fallen on you, but by your selues. Seing then thus many wayes ye have hurt the common-wealth of this whole Country within, by destruction of Shieres, loosing of haruest, wasting of victuall, decaying of manrode, undoing of Farmers, encreasing of Vagabonds, maintaining of disorder, hindering of redresses, bringing in of Martiall law, and breeding continual hatred amongst divers states, what think ye I pray you, judge ye not that ye have committed an odious and detestable crime against the whole common-wealth, whose furtherance ye ought to have tendered by duty, and not to have sought the hurt thereof with your owne dammage.

Besides all these in war dgriefs, which every one severally must needs feele with misery, there hap­neth [Page 55] so many outward mischances, among strangers to us with disdaine, that if there were nothing ill within the Realme which we should feele, yet the shame which doth touch us from other countries should not only move, but also compell you hartily to forethink this your rebellious sedition. For what shall strangers think, when they shall heare of the great misorder, which is in this Realme, with such a confusion, that no order of law can keep you under, but must be faine to be beaten downe with a Kings power? Shall they not first think the Kings majestie, in whose mind God hath powred so much hope for a child, as we may look for gifts in a man, either for his age to be little set by, or for lack of qualities not to be regarded, or for default of love to be resisted, and no notable grace of God in him considered, nor the worthinesse of his office looked upon, nor natu­rall obedience due to him remembred. Shall they not next suppose, small estimation to be given to the rulers, to whom under the King we owe due obedi­ence, that cannot in just & lawfull matters be heard, nor men to have that right judgment of their wise­dome', as their justice in rule, and foresight in coun­sell requireth, but rather prefer their owne fancies before others experience, and deeme their owne rea­son to be common-wealth, and other mens wisedome to be but dreaming? Shall they not truely say the Subjects to be more unfaithfull in disobedience, then other Subjects worse ordered be, and licence of li­berty to make wild heads without order, and that [Page 56] they neither haue reason, that vnderstand not the mischiefe of sedition, nor duty which follow their beastlynesse, nor love in them which so little re­member the common wealth, nor naturall affection which will dayly seeke their owne destruction? Thus the whole Country lacking the good opinion of other nations, is cast into great shame by your vnrulinesse, and the proceedings of the Country, be they never so godly, shall be ill spoken of, as vn­fit to be brought into vse, and good things hereby that deserveth praise, shall bide the rebuke of them that list to speake ill, and ill things untouched shall be boldlyer maintayned. Nothing may with praise be redressed, where things be measured by chancea­ble disorder, rather then by necessary vse; and that is thought most politike, that men will be best con­tented to doe, and not that which men should be brought vnto by duty. And with what duty or ver­tue in ye can ye quench out of mens memories this foule enterprise, or gather a good report againe to this Realme, who have so vilely with reproach sla­undered the same, and diversly discredited it among others, and abated the good opinion which was had of the iust goverment and ruled order, vsed hereto­fore in this noble Realme, which is now most grie­vous, because it is now most without cause.

If this outward opinion, without further inconve­nience were all, yet it might well be borne & would with ease, decay that it grew, but it hath not onely hurt us with voyce, but endangered us in deed, and [Page 57] cast us a great deale behinde the hand, where else we might have had a jolly foredeale. For that opportu­nitie of time, which seldome chanceth, and is alwaies to be taken, hath been by your froward meanes lost this yeare, and so vainely spent at home for bringing downe of you, which should else profitably have been otherwise bestowed, that it hath been almost as great a losse to us abroad, to lack that which wee might have obtained, as it was combrance at home, to goe about the overthrowe of you, whose sedition is to be abhorred. And we might both conveniently have invaded some, if they would not reasonably have growne to some kinde of friendship, and also defended other, which would beside promise, for times sake, unjustly set upon us: and easily have made this stormy time a faire yeare unto us, if our men had been so happy at home, as our likelihood abroad was fortunate. But what is it, I pray you, either to let slip such an occasion by negligence, or to stop it by stubbornesse, which once past away, can be by no meanes recovered, no not though with diligence yee goe about to re-enforce the same againe.

If yee would with wickednesse have forsaken your faith to your naturall Country, '& have sought crafty meanes to have utterly betrayed it to our common enimies, could yee have had any other speedier way then this is, both to make our strength weak, and their weaknesse strong? If yee would have sought to have spighted your countrey, and to have pleased your enimie, and follow their counsell for our hinderance, could yee have had devised of them [Page 58] any thing more shamefull for us, & joyfull to them? If they which lie like Spyals, and harken after like­lihoods of things to come, because they declare op­portunitie of times to the enimie, are to bee judged common enimies of the Countrie, what shall wee reasonably think of you, who doe not secretly be­wray the counsels of others, but openly betray the Commonwealth with your own deeds, and have as much as lyeth in you, sought the overthrowe of it at home, which if yee had obtained at Gods hand, as he never alloweth so horrible an enterprise, how could yee have defended it from the overthrow of other abroad? For is your understanding of things so small, that although you see your selves not unfit to get the upperhand of a few Gentlemen, that yee be able to beat downe afore you the Kings power? yea and by chance yee were able to doe that, would yee judge your selves by strength mighty enough to resist the power of outward nations, that for praise sake would invade yee? Nay, think truly with your selves, that if yee doe overcome, yee be unsure both by strength abroad, and displeasure of honest men at home, and by the punishment of the God a­bove. And now yee have not yet gotten indeed, that your vaine hope looketh for by fancie, think how certainly yee have wounded the Commonwealth with a fore stroke, in procuring our enimies by our weaknesse to seek victory, and by our outward mise­rie to seek outward glory, with inward dishonour, which howsoever they get, think it to be long of you, who have offered them victory, afore they be­gan [Page 59] warre, because yee would declare to men hereaf­ter belike, how dangerous it is to make stirres at home, when they doe not onely make our selves weake, but also our enimies strong.

Besides these there is another sort of men, desi­rous of advantage, and disdainfull of our wealth, whose griefe is most our greatest hap, and be offen­ded with religion, because they be drowned in super­stition, men zealed toward God, but not fit to judge, meaning better without knowledge, then they judge by their meaning, worthier whose ignorance should be taken away, then their will should be followed, whom we should more rebuke for their stubborn­nesse, then despise for their ignorance. These seeing superstition beaten downe, and religion set up, Gods word taking place, traditions kept in their kinde, dif­ference made betweene Gods Commandements & mans learning, the truth of things sought out accor­ding to Christs institution, examples taken of the Primitive Churches use, not at the Bishop of Romes ordinance, and true worship taught, and wil-worship refused, doe by blindnes rebuke that which by truth they should follow, & by affectiō follow that which by knowledge they should abhorre, thinking usage to be truth, and Scripture to be errour, not waying by the word, but misconstruing by custome. And now things be changed to the better, and Religion trulier appointed, they see matters goe awry, which hurteth the whose Realme, and they rejoyce in this mischiefe, as a thing worthily happened, mistaking the cause, and slandering Religion, as though there [Page 60] were no cause, why God might have punished, if their used profession might still have taken place. They see not that where Gods glory is truliest set forth, there the Divell is most busie for his part, & la­boureth to corrupt by lewdnes, that which is gotten out by the truth, thinking that if it were not blemi­shed at the first, the residue of his falsehood should af­ter lesse prevaile. So he troubleth by by-waies, that he cannot plainly withstand; and useth subtiltie of Sophistrie, where plaine reason faileth; and persua­deth simple men, that to be a cause, which indeed cannot be tryed and taken for a cause. So he causeth religion, which teacheth obedience, to be judged the cause of sedition; and the doctrine of love, the seed of dissention; mistaking the thing, but perswading mens mindes, and abusing the plain meaning of the honest, to a wicked end of religions overthrowe. the husbandman had not so soone throwne seed in his ground, but steppeth up the enimy, and he soweth cockle too: & maketh men doubt, whether the good husband had done well or no, and whether hee had sowne there good seed or bad. The fancifull Iewes in Egypt would not believe Ieremie, but thought their plague & their misery to come by his meanes; and leaving off Idolatry to be the cause of penury: wherefore by wilfull advice they intended to for­sake the Prophets counsell, & thought to serve God most truly by their rooted and accustomed Idola­try. When the Christian men were persecuted in the Primitive Church, and daily suffered Martyrdome for Christs profession, such faire season of weather [Page 61] was for three or foure yeare together, that the Hea­then judged thereupon, God to be delighted with their crueltie, and so were persuaded that with the bloud of the Martyrs, they pleased God highly. Such fancies lighted now in Papists, and irreligious mens heads, and joyne things by chance happening together, and conclude the one to be the cause of the other, and then delight in true worshippers hurt, because they judge cursedly the good to bee bad, and therefore rejoyce in the punishment of the goldy. For they being fleshly, judge by outward things, and perceive not the inward, for that they lack the spirit: and so judge amisse, not understanding God, what diversitie he suffereth to blinde still the wilfull, and how through all dangers he saveth his fore-chosen. Thus have yee given a large occasion to stubborne Papists, both to judge amisse, and also to rejoycein this wicked chance, contented with our mischiefe, not liking our religion, and thinking God doth punish for this better change, and have thereby an ill opinion of Gods holy truth, confirmed in thē by no sure scripture, but by following of mischance, which they ought to think to come for the pride and stubbornesse of the people, who doth not accept Gods glory in good part, nor give no due praise to their Lord and maker.

What should I say more? Yee hurt every way, the dangers be so great, & the perils so many, which doe daily follow your divellish enterprise, that the more I seek in the matter, the more I continually see to say. And what words can worthlly declare this [Page 62] miserable beastlinesse of yours, which have intended to divide the Realme, and arme the one part for the killing of the other? For even as concord is not on­ly the health, but also the strength of the Realme, so is sedition not only the weaknesse, but also the apo­steme of the Realme, which when it breaketh in­wardly, putteth the state in great danger of recove­rie, and corrupteth the whole Commonwealth with the rotten furie, that it hath long putrified with. For it is not in sedition as in other faults, which being mischievous of themselves, have some notable hurt alwaies fast adjoyned to them, but in this one is there a whole hell of faults, not severally scattered, but clustred on a lump together, & cōming on so thick, that it is unpossible for a Region armed with all kind of wisdome and strength thereto, to avoid the dan­gers that issue out thereof. When sedition once brea­keth out, see yee not the lawes overthrown, the Ma­gistrates dispised, spoiling of houses, murdering of men, wasting of countries, increase of disorder, dimi­nishing of the Realmes strength, swarming of vaga­bonds, scarcitie of labourers, and those mischiefes all plenteously brought in, which God is wont to scourge severely with all war, dearth, & pestilence? And see­ing yee have theft and murder, plague and famine, confusion and idlenesse linked together, can yee look for any more mischiefe in one shamefull enterprise, then yee evidently see to grow herein? As for warre, although it be miserable, yet the one part getteth somewhat, and rejoyceth in the spoile, and so goeth lustier a way, and either increaseth his Country with [Page 63] riches, or enhaunceth himselfe with glory: but in sedition both the parts loseth; the overcommed cannot fly, the overcommer cannot spoile; the more the winner winneth, the more he lo­seth; the more that escape, the more infamous men live; all that is gained, is scarcely saved; the winning is losse, the losse is de­struction; both wast themselves, & the whole most wasted; the stren gthning of themselves, the decay of the country; the stri­ving for the victory, is a prey to the enimie: and shortly to say, the hellish turmoile of sedition, so far passeth the common mi­sery of war, as to slay himselfe is more heynous then to be slain of another. O noble peace! what wealth bringest thou in! how doth all things flourish in field and in towne! what forwardnes of religion, what increase of learning, what gravity in counsell, what devise of wit, what order of manners, what obedience of lawes, what reverence of states, what safegard of houses, what quietnesse of life, what honour of Countries, what friendship of mindes, what honesty of pleasure hast thou alwaies main­tained! whose happinesse we knew not, while now we feele the lack, and shall learne by misery to understand plentie, and so to avoid mischiefe, by the hurt that it bringeth, and learne to serue better, where rebellion is once knowne, and so to live truly, & keep the Kings peace. What good state were yee in afore yee began? not pricked with povertie, but stirred with mischiefe, to seek your destruction: having waies to redresse all that was a­misse, Magistrates most ready to tender all justice, and pittifull in hearing the poor mens causes, which sought to amend mat­ters more then you can devise, and were ready to red resle them better then yee could imagine: & yet for a headinesse ye could not be contented, but in despite of God, who commandeth o­bedience, and in contempt of the King, whose lawes seeke your wealth, and to overthrowe the Countrie, which natural­ly we should love, yee would proudly rise, and doe ye wot not [Page 64] what, and amend things by rebellion to your utter undoing. What state leave yee us in now? besieged with enimies, divided at home, made poore with spoile and losse of our Harvest, un­ordered and cast downe with slaughter and hatred, hindered from amendmēts by your own divellish hast, endangered with sicknesses by reason of misorder, laid open to mens pleasures for breaking of the lawes, and feebled to such faintnesse, that scarcely it will be recovered.

Wherefore, for Gods sake, have pittie on your selves: consi­der how miserably yee have spoiled, destroyed, and wasted us all: and if for desperatenesse yee care not for your selves, yet re­member your wiues, your children, your country, and forsake this rebellion, with humble submission acknowledge your faults, & tarry not the extremity of the Kings sword, leave off with repentance, & turne to your duties, aske God forgivenes, submit yee to your King, be contented for a Commonwealth one or two to die, and yee Captaines for the residue sacrisice your selves. yee shall so best attain the Kings gracious pardon, save the assembly, & help the Commonwealth, & declare your doings to proceed of no stubbornesse, but all this mischiefe to grow out of ignorance, which seeing the misery, would redress the fault, and so recover best the blot of your disorder, and stay the great miseries which be like to follow. Thus if yee doe not, think truly with your selves, that God is angry with you for your rebellion, the Kings sword drawn to defend his country, the cry of the poore to God against yee, the readinesse of the honest in armour to vanquish yee, your death to bee at hand; which yee cannot escape, having God against ye, as he promi­seth in his word; the Kings power to overthrow yee gathered in the field, the Commōwealth to beat yee down with stripes and with curses, the shame of your mischiefe to blemish yee for ever.

FINIS.

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