Chapter 29

God wot to theyr great paynes,In rotchettes of fyne Raynes,Whyte as morowes[1015]mylke;Theyr tabertes of fyne silke,Theyr styrops of myxt gold begared;[1016]There may no cost be spared;320Theyr moyles[1017]golde dothe eate;Theyr neyghbours dye for meate.What care they though Gil sweate,Or[1018]Jacke of the Noke?The pore people they yoke[1019]With sommons[1020]and citacyonsAnd excommunycacyons,[1021]About churches[1022]and market:The bysshop on his carpetAt home full softe dothe syt.330This is a farly[1023]fyt,To here the people iangle,Howe warely[1024]they wrangle:Alas, why do ye not handleAnd them all to-mangle?[1025]Full[1026]falsely on you they lye,And[1027]shamefully you ascrye,And say as vntruely,[1028]As the[1029]butterflyeA man myght[1030]saye in mocke340Ware the[1031]wethercockeOf the steple of Poules;And thus they hurte theyr soulesIn sclaunderyng[1032]you for[1033]truthe:Alas, it is great ruthe!Some say ye syt in trones,Lyke prynces[1034]aquilonis,And shryne your rotten bonesWith perles[1035]and precyous stones;But howe the commons grones,350And the people mones[1036]For prestes and for lonesLent and neuer payd,But from day to day delayde,The commune welth decayde,Men say ye are tonge tayde,[1037]And therof speke[1038]nothyngeBut dyssymulyng and glosyng.Wherfore men be[1039]supposyngThat ye gyue shrewd counsell360Agaynst the commune well,By poollynge and pyllageIn cytyes and vyllage,By taxyng and tollage,[1040]Ye make[1041]monkes to[1042]haue the culerageFor couerynge of an olde cottage,That commytted[1043]is a collageIn the charter of dottage,Tenure par seruyce[1044]de sottage,And notpar seruyce de socage,370After olde seygnyours,And the lerning of Lytelton tenours:Ye haue so ouerthwarted,That good lawes are subuerted,And good reason peruerted.Relygous men are fayneFor to tourne[1045]agayneIn[1046]secula seculorum,And to forsake[1047]theyr corum,Andvagabundare per forum,380And take a fynemeritorum,Contra regulam morum,Autblackemonachorum,Aut canonicorum,Aut Bernardinorum,Aut crucifixorum,And to synge from place to place,Lyke apostataas.And the selfe same gameBegone ys[1048]nowe with shame390Amongest[1049]the sely nonnes:My lady nowe[1050]she ronnes,Dame Sybly[1051]our abbesse,Dame Dorothe and lady Besse,Dame Sare[1052]our pryoresse,Out of theyr[1053]cloyster and quereWith an heuy chere,Must cast vp theyr blacke vayles,And set vp theyr fucke sayles,To catch wynde with their ventalesâ€”400What, Colyne,[1054]there thou shales!Yet thus with yll haylesThe lay fee[1055]people rayles.And all the fawte[1056]they layOn you, prelates,[1057]and sayYe do them wrong[1058]and no ryghtTo put them thus to flyght;No matyns at mydnyght,Boke and chalys gone quyte;And[1059]plucke awaye the leedes410Evyn[1060]ouer theyr heedes,And sell away theyr belles,And all that they[1061]haue elles:Thus the people telles,Rayles lyke[1062]rebelles,Redys[1063]shrewdly and spelles,And with foundacyons[1064]melles,And talkys[1065]lyke tytyuelles,Howe ye brake the dedes[1066]wylles,Turne monasteris into[1067]water milles,420Of an abbay ye[1068]make a graunge;Your workes,[1069]they saye, are straunge;So that theyr founders soulesHaue lost theyr beade rolles,The mony for theyr massesSpent[1070]amonge wanton lasses;TheDirigesare[1071]forgotten;Theyr founders lye there rotten,But where[1072]theyr soules dwell,Therwith I wyll not mell.430What coulde[1073]the Turke do moreWith all his false[1074]lore,Turke, Sarazyn,[1075]or Jew?I reporte me to you,O mercyfull Jesu,You supporte and rescue,[1076]My style for to dyrecte,It may take some effecte!For I abhorre to wryteHowe the lay fee dyspyte440You prelates, that of ryghtShulde be lanternes of lyght.Ye lyue, they say, in delyte,Drownedin deliciis,In gloria et divitiis,In admirabili honore,[1077]In gloria, et splendoreFulgurantis hastÃ¦,[1078]Viventes parum caste:Yet swete meate hath soure sauce,450For aftergloria,[1079]laus,Chryst by cruelteWas nayled vpon[1080]a tre;He payed a bytter pencyonFor mannes redemcyon,He dranke eysell and gallTo redeme vs withall;But swete ypocras ye drynke,With, Let the cat wynke!Iche wot what eche[1081]other thynk;460Howe be itper assimileSome men thynke that yeShall haue penalte[1082]For your iniquyte.Nota[1083]what I say,And bere it well away;If it please not theologys,[1084]It is good for astrologys;[1085]For Ptholome tolde meThe sonne somtyme to be470In Ariete,Ascendent a degre,[1086]Whan Scorpion descendynge,Was so then[1087]pretendyngeA fatall fall of one[1088]That shuld[1089]syt on[1090]a trone,And rule all thynges[1091]alone.Your teth whet on this boneAmongest[1092]you euerychone,And let Collyn Cloute haue none[1093]480Maner of cause to mone:Lay salue to your owne sore,For els, as I sayd before,Aftergloria,laus,May come a soure sauce;Sory therfore am I,But trouth can neuer lye.With language thus polutedHoly Churche is brutedAnd shamfully confuted.490My penne nowe wyll I sharpe,And wrest vp my harpeWith sharpe twynkyng trebelles,Agaynst all suche rebellesThat laboure to confoundeAnd bryng the Churche to the grounde;As ye may dayly seHowe the lay feeOf one affynyteConsent and agre500Agaynst the Churche to be,And the dygnyteOf the bysshoppes see.[1094]And eyther ye be to bad,Or els they ar madOf this to reporte:But, vnder your supporte,Tyll my dyenge dayI shall bothe wryte and say,And ye shall do the same,510Howe they are to[1095]blameYou thus to dyffame:For it maketh me sadHowe that the people[1096]are gladThe Churche to depraue;And some there are that raue,Presumynge on theyr wyt,[1097]Whan there is neuer a whyt,To maynteyne argumentesAgaynst the sacramentes.520Some make epylogacyonOf hyghe predestynacyon;[1098]And of resydeuacyon[1099]They make interpretacyonOf an aquarde facyon;And of the prescienceOf dyuyne essence;[1100]And what ipostacis[1101]Of Christes manhode is.Suche logyke men wyll chop,530And in theyr fury hop,When the good ale sopDothe daunce in theyr fore top;Bothe women and men,Suche ye may well knowe and ken,That agaynst[1102]preesthodeTheyr malyce sprede abrode,Raylynge haynouslyAnd dysdaynouslyOf preestly dygnytes,540But theyr malygnytes.And some haue a smackeOf Luthers sacke,And a brennyng sparkeOf Luthers warke,[1103]And are somewhat suspecteIn Luthers secte;And some of them barke,[1104]Clatter and carpeOf that heresy arte,550Called Wicleuista,[1105]The deuelysshe dogmatista;And some be Hussyans,And some be Arryans,And some be Pollegians,And make moche varyansBytwene the clergyeAnd the temporaltye,Howe the Church[1106]hath to mykel,And they haue to lytell,560And bryng in[1107]materialites[1108]And qualyfyed qualytesOf pluralytes,Of tryalytes,And of tot quottes,They commune lyke sottes,[1109]As commeth to theyr lottes;Of prebendaries and deanes,Howe some of them gleanesAnd gathereth[1110]vp the store570For to catche more and more;Of persons and vycaryesThey make many outcryes;They cannot kepe theyr wyuesFrom them for theyr lyues;And thus the loselles stryues,And lewdely sayes by[1111]ChristAgaynst the sely preest.Alas, and well away,What ayles[1112]them thus to say?580They mought[1113]be better aduysed[1114]Then to be so[1115]dysgysed:But they haue enterprysed,And shamfully surmysed,Howe prelacy[1116]is solde and bought,And come vp of nought;And where the[1117]prelates beCome[1118]of lowe degre,And set in[1119]maiesteAnd spirituall dyngnyte,590Farwell benygnyte,Farwell symplicite,[1120]Farwell humylyte,Farwell good charyte!Ye[1121]are so puffed wyth pryde,That no man may abydeYour hygh and lordely lokes:Ye cast vp then[1122]your bokes,And vertue is forgotten;For then ye wyll be wroken600Of euery lyght quarell,And call a lorde a[1123]iauell,A knyght a knaue ye[1124]make;Ye bost, ye face, ye crake,And vpon you ye[1125]takeTo rule bothe[1126]kynge and kayser;And yf ye[1127]may haue layser,Ye wyll[1128]brynge all to nought,And that is all[1129]your thought:For the lordes temporall,610Theyr rule is very small,Almost nothyng at all.Men saye howe ye[1130]appallThe[1131]noble blode royall:In ernest and in game,Ye are the lesse to blame,For lordes of noble blode,If they well vnderstode[1132]How connyng myght them auaunce,[1133]They wold pype you another[1134]daunce:620But noble men borneTo lerne they haue scorne,[1135]But hunt[1136]and blowe an horne,Lepe ouer[1137]lakes and dykes,Set nothyng by[1138]polytykes;Therfore ye kepe them bace,And mocke them to[1139]theyr face:This is a pyteous case,To you that ouer[1140]the wheleGrete[1141]lordes must crouche[1142]and knele,630And breke theyr hose at the kne,As dayly men may se,And to remembraunce call,[1143]Fortune so turneth the ballAnd ruleth so ouer all,That honoure hath a great fall.

God wot to theyr great paynes,

In rotchettes of fyne Raynes,

Whyte as morowes[1015]mylke;

Theyr tabertes of fyne silke,

Theyr styrops of myxt gold begared;[1016]

There may no cost be spared;320

Theyr moyles[1017]golde dothe eate;

Theyr neyghbours dye for meate.

What care they though Gil sweate,

Or[1018]Jacke of the Noke?

The pore people they yoke[1019]

With sommons[1020]and citacyons

And excommunycacyons,[1021]

About churches[1022]and market:

The bysshop on his carpet

At home full softe dothe syt.330

This is a farly[1023]fyt,

To here the people iangle,

Howe warely[1024]they wrangle:

Alas, why do ye not handle

And them all to-mangle?[1025]

Full[1026]falsely on you they lye,

And[1027]shamefully you ascrye,

And say as vntruely,[1028]

As the[1029]butterflye

A man myght[1030]saye in mocke340

Ware the[1031]wethercocke

Of the steple of Poules;

And thus they hurte theyr soules

In sclaunderyng[1032]you for[1033]truthe:

Alas, it is great ruthe!

Some say ye syt in trones,

Lyke prynces[1034]aquilonis,

And shryne your rotten bones

With perles[1035]and precyous stones;

But howe the commons grones,350

And the people mones[1036]

For prestes and for lones

Lent and neuer payd,

But from day to day delayde,

The commune welth decayde,

Men say ye are tonge tayde,[1037]

And therof speke[1038]nothynge

But dyssymulyng and glosyng.

Wherfore men be[1039]supposyng

That ye gyue shrewd counsell360

Agaynst the commune well,

By poollynge and pyllage

In cytyes and vyllage,

By taxyng and tollage,[1040]

Ye make[1041]monkes to[1042]haue the culerage

For couerynge of an olde cottage,

That commytted[1043]is a collage

In the charter of dottage,

Tenure par seruyce[1044]de sottage,

And notpar seruyce de socage,370

After olde seygnyours,

And the lerning of Lytelton tenours:

Ye haue so ouerthwarted,

That good lawes are subuerted,

And good reason peruerted.

Relygous men are fayne

For to tourne[1045]agayne

In[1046]secula seculorum,

And to forsake[1047]theyr corum,

Andvagabundare per forum,380

And take a fynemeritorum,

Contra regulam morum,

Autblackemonachorum,

Aut canonicorum,

Aut Bernardinorum,

Aut crucifixorum,

And to synge from place to place,

Lyke apostataas.

And the selfe same game

Begone ys[1048]nowe with shame390

Amongest[1049]the sely nonnes:

My lady nowe[1050]she ronnes,

Dame Sybly[1051]our abbesse,

Dame Dorothe and lady Besse,

Dame Sare[1052]our pryoresse,

Out of theyr[1053]cloyster and quere

With an heuy chere,

Must cast vp theyr blacke vayles,

And set vp theyr fucke sayles,

To catch wynde with their ventalesâ€”400

What, Colyne,[1054]there thou shales!

Yet thus with yll hayles

The lay fee[1055]people rayles.

And all the fawte[1056]they lay

On you, prelates,[1057]and say

Ye do them wrong[1058]and no ryght

To put them thus to flyght;

No matyns at mydnyght,

Boke and chalys gone quyte;

And[1059]plucke awaye the leedes410

Evyn[1060]ouer theyr heedes,

And sell away theyr belles,

And all that they[1061]haue elles:

Thus the people telles,

Rayles lyke[1062]rebelles,

Redys[1063]shrewdly and spelles,

And with foundacyons[1064]melles,

And talkys[1065]lyke tytyuelles,

Howe ye brake the dedes[1066]wylles,

Turne monasteris into[1067]water milles,420

Of an abbay ye[1068]make a graunge;

Your workes,[1069]they saye, are straunge;

So that theyr founders soules

Haue lost theyr beade rolles,

The mony for theyr masses

Spent[1070]amonge wanton lasses;

TheDirigesare[1071]forgotten;

Theyr founders lye there rotten,

But where[1072]theyr soules dwell,

Therwith I wyll not mell.430

What coulde[1073]the Turke do more

With all his false[1074]lore,

Turke, Sarazyn,[1075]or Jew?

I reporte me to you,

O mercyfull Jesu,

You supporte and rescue,[1076]

My style for to dyrecte,

It may take some effecte!

For I abhorre to wryte

Howe the lay fee dyspyte440

You prelates, that of ryght

Shulde be lanternes of lyght.

Ye lyue, they say, in delyte,

Drownedin deliciis,

In gloria et divitiis,

In admirabili honore,[1077]

In gloria, et splendore

Fulgurantis hastÃ¦,[1078]

Viventes parum caste:

Yet swete meate hath soure sauce,450

For aftergloria,[1079]laus,

Chryst by cruelte

Was nayled vpon[1080]a tre;

He payed a bytter pencyon

For mannes redemcyon,

He dranke eysell and gall

To redeme vs withall;

But swete ypocras ye drynke,

With, Let the cat wynke!

Iche wot what eche[1081]other thynk;460

Howe be itper assimile

Some men thynke that ye

Shall haue penalte[1082]

For your iniquyte.

Nota[1083]what I say,

And bere it well away;

If it please not theologys,[1084]

It is good for astrologys;[1085]

For Ptholome tolde me

The sonne somtyme to be470

In Ariete,

Ascendent a degre,[1086]

Whan Scorpion descendynge,

Was so then[1087]pretendynge

A fatall fall of one[1088]

That shuld[1089]syt on[1090]a trone,

And rule all thynges[1091]alone.

Your teth whet on this bone

Amongest[1092]you euerychone,

And let Collyn Cloute haue none[1093]480

Maner of cause to mone:

Lay salue to your owne sore,

For els, as I sayd before,

Aftergloria,laus,

May come a soure sauce;

Sory therfore am I,

But trouth can neuer lye.

With language thus poluted

Holy Churche is bruted

And shamfully confuted.490

My penne nowe wyll I sharpe,

And wrest vp my harpe

With sharpe twynkyng trebelles,

Agaynst all suche rebelles

That laboure to confounde

And bryng the Churche to the grounde;

As ye may dayly se

Howe the lay fee

Of one affynyte

Consent and agre500

Agaynst the Churche to be,

And the dygnyte

Of the bysshoppes see.[1094]

And eyther ye be to bad,

Or els they ar mad

Of this to reporte:

But, vnder your supporte,

Tyll my dyenge day

I shall bothe wryte and say,

And ye shall do the same,510

Howe they are to[1095]blame

You thus to dyffame:

For it maketh me sad

Howe that the people[1096]are glad

The Churche to depraue;

And some there are that raue,

Presumynge on theyr wyt,[1097]

Whan there is neuer a whyt,

To maynteyne argumentes

Agaynst the sacramentes.520

Some make epylogacyon

Of hyghe predestynacyon;[1098]

And of resydeuacyon[1099]

They make interpretacyon

Of an aquarde facyon;

And of the prescience

Of dyuyne essence;[1100]

And what ipostacis[1101]

Of Christes manhode is.

Suche logyke men wyll chop,530

And in theyr fury hop,

When the good ale sop

Dothe daunce in theyr fore top;

Bothe women and men,

Suche ye may well knowe and ken,

That agaynst[1102]preesthode

Theyr malyce sprede abrode,

Raylynge haynously

And dysdaynously

Of preestly dygnytes,540

But theyr malygnytes.

And some haue a smacke

Of Luthers sacke,

And a brennyng sparke

Of Luthers warke,[1103]

And are somewhat suspecte

In Luthers secte;

And some of them barke,[1104]

Clatter and carpe

Of that heresy arte,550

Called Wicleuista,[1105]

The deuelysshe dogmatista;

And some be Hussyans,

And some be Arryans,

And some be Pollegians,

And make moche varyans

Bytwene the clergye

And the temporaltye,

Howe the Church[1106]hath to mykel,

And they haue to lytell,560

And bryng in[1107]materialites[1108]

And qualyfyed qualytes

Of pluralytes,

Of tryalytes,

And of tot quottes,

They commune lyke sottes,[1109]

As commeth to theyr lottes;

Of prebendaries and deanes,

Howe some of them gleanes

And gathereth[1110]vp the store570

For to catche more and more;

Of persons and vycaryes

They make many outcryes;

They cannot kepe theyr wyues

From them for theyr lyues;

And thus the loselles stryues,

And lewdely sayes by[1111]Christ

Agaynst the sely preest.

Alas, and well away,

What ayles[1112]them thus to say?580

They mought[1113]be better aduysed[1114]

Then to be so[1115]dysgysed:

But they haue enterprysed,

And shamfully surmysed,

Howe prelacy[1116]is solde and bought,

And come vp of nought;

And where the[1117]prelates be

Come[1118]of lowe degre,

And set in[1119]maieste

And spirituall dyngnyte,590

Farwell benygnyte,

Farwell symplicite,[1120]

Farwell humylyte,

Farwell good charyte!

Ye[1121]are so puffed wyth pryde,

That no man may abyde

Your hygh and lordely lokes:

Ye cast vp then[1122]your bokes,

And vertue is forgotten;

For then ye wyll be wroken600

Of euery lyght quarell,

And call a lorde a[1123]iauell,

A knyght a knaue ye[1124]make;

Ye bost, ye face, ye crake,

And vpon you ye[1125]take

To rule bothe[1126]kynge and kayser;

And yf ye[1127]may haue layser,

Ye wyll[1128]brynge all to nought,

And that is all[1129]your thought:

For the lordes temporall,610

Theyr rule is very small,

Almost nothyng at all.

Men saye howe ye[1130]appall

The[1131]noble blode royall:

In ernest and in game,

Ye are the lesse to blame,

For lordes of noble blode,

If they well vnderstode[1132]

How connyng myght them auaunce,[1133]

They wold pype you another[1134]daunce:620

But noble men borne

To lerne they haue scorne,[1135]

But hunt[1136]and blowe an horne,

Lepe ouer[1137]lakes and dykes,

Set nothyng by[1138]polytykes;

Therfore ye kepe them bace,

And mocke them to[1139]theyr face:

This is a pyteous case,

To you that ouer[1140]the whele

Grete[1141]lordes must crouche[1142]and knele,630

And breke theyr hose at the kne,

As dayly men may se,

And to remembraunce call,[1143]

Fortune so turneth the ball

And ruleth so ouer all,

That honoure hath a great fall.

Back to Index Next