A dialoge of comfort against tribulacion, made by Syr Thomas More Knyght, and set foorth by the name of an Hu[n]garie[n], not before this time imprinted

¶The third Booke and the last•• of consolacion and com∣fort in tribulacion. (Book 3)

¶Vincent.

SOmewhat haue I taried the longer vncle, partlye for that I was loth to come ouersone, lest my sone coming myghte haue happed to haue made you wake to sone: but specially by the reason I was letted with one that shewed me a letter dated at Cōstan∣tinople, by which letter it appeareth, y^t the great Turke prepareth a merueilous mighty army, and yet whether he wil therwith, that can there yet no man tell. But I feare in good faith vncle•• that his vyage shalbe hither. Howbeit; he that wrote the letter, sayeth that it is se∣cretly sayd in Constantinople, that greate parte of his armye shalbe shipped and sent eyther into Naples or into Cicile.

¶Anthony.

It may fortune Cosin, that the letter of the ••enecian dated at Constantinople, was deuised at Ue∣nice. From thēce come there some among, & sometime frō Rome to, & sometime al••o frō other places, letters al farced f••l of such tydinges y^t the Turke is ready to doe some great exploitie•• which tydinges they blowe a∣bout for y^e fartherāce of some such affayres, as thei thā haue themself in hand. The Turke hath also so many men of armes in his retinew, at his continual charge, that lest they should lye still and doe nothing, but per∣aduenture fall in deuising of some nouelties among thēself, he is fayn yerely to make some assemblies and

some changeing of thē from one place vnto another, and pa••te some sort asundre, that they waxe not ouer well acquaynted by dwelling ouer long together. By these wayes also he maketh those that he mindeth so∣deynly to inuade in dede, the lesse to loke therfore, and therby y^e lesse preparacion to make before, while they see him so many times make a great visage of warre, when he mindeth it not: but then at one time or other, they sodeinly feele it when they feare it not. Howbeit, full likely Cosin it is of very trueth, y^e into this realme of Hungarye he will not fayle to come. For neither is there any countrey thorow christēdome, that lyeth for him so mete, nor neuer was there any time tyll now, in which he might so wel and surely winne it. For now cal we him in our self (God saue vs) as Esope telleth, that the shepe toke in the woulfe vnto them, to keepe them from the dogges.

Vincent.

Than are there very like good vncle al these tribulacions to fal vpon vs here, y^• I spake of in the beginning of our first communicaci∣on here the other day.

Anthony.

Uerye trueth it is Cosin, y^t so there wil of likelihod in a while, but not forthwith all at the fyrst. For while he cometh vnder y^t colour of ayde for y^e one against the other, he wil sumwhat se the profe before he fully shew himself. But in conclusion, if he be able to geat it for him, you shal see him so handle it y^t he shall not fayle to geat it from him, & that furth∣with out of hand or euer he suffer him settle himself o∣uer sure therin.

Vincent.

Yet saye they vncle, y^t he v∣seth not to force any man to forsake his fayth.

Anthony.

Not any man Cosin? They say more than they can make good that tell you so: he maketh a solemne othe among the Ceremonies of that feast in whiche he fyrste taketh vppon hym hys aucthoritie, that he shall, in all that he possible maye, mynyshe the

fayth of Christ, and dilate the fayth of Machomet. But yet hath he not vsed to force euery whole countrey at once to forsake theyr faith. For of some coūtreyes hath he been content, onely to take a tribute yerelye, and let them liue than as they lust. Out of some he taketh the whole people away, dispersyng them for slaues among many sundry countreyes of his, very farre from their own, without any sufferance of regresse. Some coun∣trey so great and populous, that they cannot wel be ca∣ried and conuayed thence: he destroyeth the gentlemen and geueth their landes part to such as he bringeth, & part to such as willingly wil reuye their fayth, and ke∣peth the other in such misery, that they were in maner as good to be dead at once. In rest he suffreth elles no christē man almost, but those that resort as marchātes, or those that offer themselfe to serue him in his warre. But as for those christen countreyes, that he vseth not for only tributories as he doth Thio, Ciprys or Candy, but reckoneth for cleare conquest, and vtterlye taketh for his owne, as Morea, Grece & Macedony, and such other like. And as I verelye thinke, he wil Hungary, if he geat it. In al those vseth he christē people after son∣dry fashions. He letteth thē dwel there in dede because they wer to many to cary al away, & to many to kil them all to. But if he should either leaue the land dispeopled and desolate, or els some other countreyes of his own, from whence he should (which would not wel be done) conuay the people thether, to people that land withall. There loe, those that wil not be turned frō their faith, of which god kepeth (lauded be his holy name) very ma∣ny he suffereth to dwell still in peace. But yet is theyr peace for all that not verye peacible: For landes he suffereth them to haue none of theyr owne: offyce

or honeste rowme they beare none: with occasyons of his warres he pylleth them with taxis and tallagis vnto the bare bones, their children he choseth where he lust in their youth, and take••h them frō their parentes conueying thē whither he lust, where their frendes ne∣uer see thē after, & abuseth thē as he lust. Some yong maidens maketh harlots: some young mē he bringeth vp in warre, & some young children, he causeth to bee geldyd, not theyr stones cut out, as the custome was of olde, but cutteth of their whole members by the body: howe fewe scape and lyue, he litle forceth, for he wyll haue in oughe. And all that he so taketh younge, to any vse of his own, are betaken vnto such Turkes or false renagates to kepe, that they be turned frō the fayth of Christ euery chone, or els so handled, that as for thys world they come to an euil cheuing. For beside many other cōtumelyes, & dispightes that the Turkes and the false renagate christians, many tymes doe to good christen people, that still perseuer and abyde by the faith, they find the meane somtime to make some false shrewes say, that they heard such a christē man speake opprobrious wordes agaynst Machomet, & vpon that poynt falsely testified, wyl they take occasion to compell him forsake the fayth of Christe, and turne vnto the pro∣fession of their shamefull supersticious secte, or els will they put him to death with cruel intollerable tormētes.

Vincent.

Our lord vncle for hys myghtie mercy kepe those wretches hence. For by mi trouth, if thei happe to come hither, me thinke I see many moe tokens than one that we shall haue of oure owne folke heare ready to fall in vnto them. For lyke as before a greate storme the sea begynneth some tyme to worke and roare in it selfe ere euer the wynde waxe boysteous: so me thynke

I heare at myne eare, some of our own here amōg vs, whiche within these fewe yeres, coulde no more haue borne the name of a Turke, than the name of a deuill, begin now to find litle fault therin, yea & some to praise them to, litle and litle as they maye, more glad to finde faultes at euery state of chrystendome, priestes, princes, rites, ceremonies, sacramentes, lawes and customes, spirituall and temporall, and all.

Anthony.

In good fayth Cosin, so begin we to fare here in dede, and that but euen now of late. For since the title of the crowne hath come in question, the good rule of this realme hath very sore decaied, as litle while as it is: and vndoubtedli Hungary shal neuer doe wel, as long as it standeth in thys case, that mens myndes harken after nouelties, & haue their heartes hanging vpon a chaunge: & much the worse I like it, when their wordes walke so large toward y^e fauoure of y^• Turkes s••••te, which they were euer wonte to haue in so great abhominacion, as euery true mynded christen man and christen woman to must haue. I am of such age as you see, and verely from as•• farre as I can remembre, it ha••h been marked and often proued true, that when children haue in Bowda fallen in a fantasy by thē self to drawe together, & in their playing make as it were corsys caryed to churche, and sing after their childishe fashiō the time of y^e dirige, there hath great death there shortly folowed after. And twise or thrise I may remē∣ber in my daies, whē children in diuerse partes of this realme, haue gathered themself in sundry companies, and made as it were partyes and battailes, and after their battailes in sport, wherin some childrē haue yet ta∣great hurte, there hath fallen very battel & very deadly warre in dede. These tokens were somewhat lyke your ensample of the sea, sith they be of thinges y^t after fo∣low,

tokens foregoing thorow some secret mociō or in∣stinct, wherof y^• cause is vnknowē. But by. S. Mary Cosin, these tokens like I much worse, these tokens I say not of childrens playes, nor of childrens songes, but olde shrewes large opē wordes, so boldly spokē in y^• fauour of Machomettes secte, in this realme of Hūga∣rye, that hath been euer hitherto a very sure kaye of christendom: and out of doubt, if hungary be lost, & that the Turke haue it once fast in his possession, he shal ere it be long after, haue an opē ready way, into almost the remnaunt of al christendom, though he win it not al in a weke, y^e great part wil be wonne after I feare me w^t∣in veri fewe yeres.

Vincent.

But yet euermore I trust in Christ good vncle, that he shal not suffre that abho∣minable sect of his mortal enemies, in such wise to pre∣uaile against his Christē countreyes.

Anthony.

That is veri wel said Cosin, let vs haue our sure hope in him, and thā shal we be very sure y^t we shal not be deceiued: for either shall we haue y^e thing y^t we hope for, or a better thyng in y^• stede: for as for y^e thing it self y^t we pray for, & hope to haue, god wil not alway sēd vs, & therefore as I said in our first cōmunicaciō, in al thyng saue onely for heauē, our praier nor our hope, mai neuer be to precise although y^• thing be lawful to require. Uerely if we peo∣ple of y^e christē naciōs were such as would god we were, I would litle feare al y^e preparaciōs y^t the great Turke could make, no nor yet being as bad as we be, I nothing doubt at al but y^t in conclusiō•• how bace soeuer christen∣dom be broughte, it shal spring vp again, til the tyme be come very nere to y^• day of dome, wherof some tokens as me thinketh are not come yet, but somewhat before y^• time shal christēdom be straited sore, & brought into so narrowe a compasse, y^• according vnto Christes wordes, ••ilius hominis quum venerit, putas inuenie•• fidem in terra? whan y^e sonne

of man shall come againe, y^t is to wytte, to the daye of general iudgement, wenest thou that he shal find faith in the earth, as who say but a litle? For as appeareth in the Apocalyppes, and other places of scripture, he sayth shalbe at that time so farre faded, that he shall for the loue of his electes, leste they shoulde fall and perishe to, abredge those daies and accelerate his com∣ming. But as I saye, me thinke I mysse yet in my mind, some of those tokens that shall by the scripture come a good while before that. And amonge other the cōming in of y^e Iewes, & the dilating of christendome againe before the world come vnto that strayght. So that I saie, for my owne minde I lytle doubt, but that this vngracious secte of Machomet shal haue a foule fal, & christendom spryng & spread floure, and encrease again: howbeit, the pleasure and comfort shal they se y^t shal be borne, after that we be buried, I feare me bothe twain. For god geueth vs greate likelihode, y^t for oure sinneful wretched liuing, he goeth about to make these infidels, y^• are his open professed enemies, the sorow∣ful scourge of correccion, ouer euil christen people, that should be faithful, and of truth are his falsly professed frēdes. And surely Cosin, albeit y^t me thinketh I see diuers euil tokēs of this misery cōming to vs, yet can there not in my mind be a worse prognosticacion ther∣of, thā this vngracious tokē y^t you note here your self. For vndoudtedly Cosin, this new maner here of mens fauorable fashiō in their lāguage toward these vngra∣cious Turkes, declareth plainly that not onely theyr mindes geueth thē y^t hither in shall he come, but also y^t they can be cōtent, both to liue vnder him, & ouer y^t fro the true faith of Christ to fal into Machomethes false abhominable secte.

Vincent.

Uerely my vncle, as I goe

more about thā you, so must I more heare nedes (which is an heauy hearing in my eare) y^e maner of mē in thys matter which encreaseth about vs here, I truste in o∣ther places of this realme by goddes grace it is other∣wise. But in this quarter here about vs, many of these fellowes y^t a••e mete for the warre, first were wont, as it were in sport, & in a while after halfe betwene game & earnest, & by our lady nowe, not farre frō fayer flat earnest in dede, talke as though they looked for a day whē with a turne vnto y^e Turke his faith, they should be made maisters here of true christē mennes bodies & owners of al theyr goodes.

☞Antony.

Though I goe litle abrode Cosin, yet heare I somtime whē I say litle, as much as y^t almost, but while there is no mā to com∣plaine to for the redresse, what remedy but pacience? & fayne to sit stil & hold my peace. For of these two y^t stryue whither of thē both shal raigne vpon vs, & eche of thē calleth him selfe king, & both twaine put y^e peo∣ple to payne: The one is you wote well, to farre frō our quarter here to helpe vs in this behalfe. And the other while he looketh for the Turkes ayde, eyther wyl not or well dare not I wene, finde any faulte w^t thē y^t fauour the Turke and his secte. For of Turkes natural this coūtreye lacketh none nowe whiche are here conuersaunte vnder diuerse pretextes: & of euery thinge aduertise the greate Turke full surelye. And therefore Cosin, albeit y^t I would aduise euerye man, praye stil & call vnto god to holde his gracious hande ouer vs, and kepe away thys wretchednes if his plea∣sure be: yet would I farther aduise euery good christē bodye, to remember and consider, y^t it is verye like∣lye to come, and therfore make his reckoninge and cast his penny worthes before, and euerye man and

euery woman appoint with goddes helpe in their own mynde before hand, what thyng they entende to dooe if the very worst fall.

¶The first Chapter. ¶VVhither a man should cast in hys mynde and appoynt in his heart before, that if he vvere taken vvith Turkes, he vvould rather dye, than forsake the fayth.

¶Vincent.

WEl fare your heart good vncle for this good coū∣saile of yours, for surely me thinketh that thys is maruelouse good: but yet heard I once a right cōning & a very good mā saye, y^t it were great foly, & very pery∣lous to, that a man should thinke vpō ani such thing, or imagine any such case in his mynd for feare of double peril y^t may folow therupō: for eyther shal he be lykely to aūswere himself to y^e case put by himself, y^t he wil rather suffre any paineful death thā forsake hys faith, and by that bolde appointmēt, should he fal in the fault of. S. Peter, y^• of ouersighte made a proude promyse, & soone had a foule fal, or els were he likely to thinke y^t rather thā abide y^e payn, he would forsake god in dede, and by that mind should he synne deadly thorow his own foly, wheras he nedeth not as he y^• shal peraduenture neuer come in y^• perel, to be put therunto, & y^t therfore it were most wisedō neuer to thinke vpō any suche maner case

☞Antony.

I beleue well Cosin y^t you haue heard some mā y^• would so say: for I can shewe almost as much as that, left of a good man and a greate solemne doctor in writing: but yet Cosin, although I should hap to fynde one or two moe, as good men, and as wel learned too, that would both twayne say & write y^e same, yet would I not feare for my part to coūsayle my frend to y^e con∣trary. For Cosin, if his mind answere him, as. S. Pe∣ter answered Christ, that he wil rather die, thā forsake him, though he say therin more vnto himselfe, than he should be paraduenture able to make good, if it came to y^e poīt, yet perceiue I not y^t he doth in y^t thought, any

deadly displeasure vnto god nor. S. Peter, ••hough he said more thā he coulde perfourme, yet in his so saying offended not god greatly neither: but his o••fence was, whē he did not after so wel as he said before. But now may this mā be lykely neuer to fal in y^e per••l of breakīg that appointment, si••h of some .x. M. y^t so shal examyn thēself, neuer one shal fal in y^e perel, & yet to haue that good purpose al their lyfe, semeth me no more harme y^e while, thā a poore begger y^t hath neuer a pēny, to thinke y^t if he had great substaūce, he would geue great almose for gods sake. But now is al y^e perel, if the mā answere himself y^t he would in such case rather forsake the faith of Christ w^t his mouth, & kepe it stil in his heart, thā for y^e cōfessing of it, to endure a paynful death: for by this mind falleth he in deadly sinne, which while he neuer cometh in y^e case in dede if he neuer had put him selfe y^e case he neuer had fal in: but in good fayth me thinketh y^t he which vpō y^e case put vnto himself by himself, wyl make himself y^t answere, hath y^e habite of faith so faint & so cold y^t to y^e better knowledge of himself, & of his ne∣cessitie, to pray for more strēgth of grace, he had nede to haue the questiō put him, either bi himself, or some other mā. Besides this, to coūsayle a mā neuer to thinke on y^e case, is in my mynd as much reason, as y^e medicine y^t I haue heard taughte one for y^e tooth ache to goe thrise a∣bout a churche yard, & neuer thinke vpō a foxe taile: for if y^e coūsaile be not geuē thē, it cannot serue thē, & if it be geuē thē, it must put y^• point of y^e matter in their minde, which by & by to reiect, & thinke therin neither one thīg or other, is a thing y^t may be sooner bidden then obeied. I wene also that very fewe men can escape it but that thoughe they woulde neuer thynke thereon by them selfe, but that yet in one place or other where they shall happe to come in companye, they shall

haue the question by aduenture so proponed and putte forth, that like as while he heareth one talkyng to him, he may wel winke if he wil, but he cānot make himselfe slepe: so shal he whether he wil or no thinke one thing or other therin. Finally, whē Christ spake so often & so playne of the matter that euerye man shoulde vpon payne of damnacion, openly confesse hys fayth if men toke hym, and by dreade of death would driue hym to the contrary, it semeth me in a maner implied therein that we be bound cōdicionally, to haue euermore that mynde actually, sometyme & euermore habitually: that if the case so shoulde fal, than with goddes helpe, so we woulde, and thus much thinketh me necessary for eue∣ry man and woman, to be alwaye of thys mynde, and often to thinke thereupon: and where thei finde in the thynkyng theron, theyr heartes agryce, and shrinke in the remembraunce of the payne ••hat their imaginaciō representeth to the minde, than must they call to mind and remember the great payne & torment that Christ suffred for them, and hartely praye for grace, that if the case shoulde so fall, god shoulde geue them strength to stande: and thus with exercise of suche medytacion, though men shoulde neuer stande full out of feare of fallyng, yet muste they perseuer in good hope, & in full purpose of standing, and thys semeth me Cosin so far∣forth the mynde, that euery christen man and woman must nedes haue that, me thinketh that euery Curate should oftē coūsaile al his parishions, and euery man & woman, their seruauntes, and their children euen bee∣ginning in theyr tender youth, to know this point, and to thinke theron, & litle & litle fro theyr very childhode to accustome them dulcely and pleasaūtly in the medi∣tacion therof, wherby the goodnes of GOD, shal not

fayle so to aspyre the grace of his holy spirite into thei•• heartes in reward of that ve••teous diligence, that tho∣row such actual meditacion, he shal confirme them in such a sur•• habite of spiritual faithful strength, that all the deuilles in hell with all the wrestlyng that they can make, shal neuer be able to wrest it out of ••heir hearte.

☞Vincent.

By my trouth vncle, me thinketh you saye very well.

Antony.

I say surely Cosin as I thinke, and yet all this haue I sayde concerning them that dwell in such places as thei be neuer like in their liues to come in the daunger to be put to the proofe: howbeit many a man may wene himself farther fro, that yet may fortune by some one chaunce or other to fall in the case, that either for the trouth of fayth, or for the trouth of iustice, which goe almost alike, he may fal in the case. But now be you and I Cosin, and all our frendes here, farre in an o∣ther poynt. For we be so likely to fall in the experience thereof so sone, that it had been more time for vs (al o∣ther thinges set asyde) to haue deuised vpon thys mat∣ter, and formely to haue setled our self vpon a stedfas•• poynt long agoe, than to begyn to common and coun∣sayle vpon it nowe.

☞Vincent.

In God fayth vncle, you saye therein verye trouth, and would God it had come soner in my mynd, but better is yet late, then neuer. And I trust God shal yet geue vs respyte and tyme, whereof vncle that we lese no parte, I pray you procede nowe with your good counsayle therin.

☞Anthony.

Uery gladly Cosin, shall I nowe goe furth in the fourth temptacion, which onely remayneth to be ••reated of, and properlye pertayneth whole vnto this present purpose.

¶The second Chapter. ¶Of the fourth temptacion, vvhich is persecucion for the fayth touched in these vvoordes of the Prophete. Ab in∣cursu et demonio meridiano.

THe fourth temptacion Cosin, that the Prophe•• speaketh of in the fore remembred Psalme. Qu•• habitat in a diutorio altissimi. &c. is playn open persecuci∣on whiche is touched in these woordes. Ab incursu et demo∣nio meridiano. And of all his temptacions, this is the moste perilous, the most bitter, sharp, and the most rigorous. For wheras in other temptacions, he vseth ether plea∣sant allectiues vnto sinne, or other secret sleyghtes & traines, and cometh in the night and stealeth on in the darke vnware, or in some other parte of the day, ••tyeth and passeth by like an arrowe, so shaping himself some time in one fashion, sumtime in an other: & so dissim••••ling himself and his high mortal malice, that a man i•• therby so blinded & begyled, that he may not sometyme perceue well what he is. In this tēptaciō. this plain opē persecucion for the fayth, he cometh euen in the very midde day, that is to wete, euen vpon them that haue an high light of fayth shining in theyr heart, and open∣ly suffreth himself so plainly be perceiued, by his fierce furious malicious persecucion against y^e faithful chris∣ten, for hatred of Christes true catholique faith, that no manne hauing faith, can doubt what he is. For in this temptacion he sheweth himself, such as the prophet na∣meth him, demonium meridianum, the mid day deuill. He maie be so light••omly sene with the eye of a faithful soule, by his fierce f••rious assaut & incursion. For therfore saith y^e prophet, y^t the truth of god shal compasse y^e mā round about, y^t dwelleth in y^e faithful hope of his helpe with a pauice. Ab incursu & demonio meridiano, frō the incursion and y^e deuil of the mid day, because this kind of persecuciō is

not a wylye temptacyon, but a furious force, and a terrible incursion. In other of hys temptacions he steale••h on lyke a Foxe: but in thys Turkes perse∣cucion for the faythe he runneth on roaryng with as∣saulte lyke a rampyng Lyon. Thys temptacion is of all temptacions also the moste perilous: for whereas in temptacions of prosperitie, he vseth onely delecta∣ble allectiues, to moue a mā to sinne, & in other kindes of tribulacions & aduersitie he vseth onelye griefe and paine to pull a man into murmure, impacience & blas∣phemy, in this kind of persecucion for y^e faith of Christ, he vseth b••th twaine, y^t is to wit, both his allectiues of quiet and rest by deliueraunce from death and payne, with other pleasures also of this presente life: & besyde that the terror and infliccion of intollerable paine and tormente in other tribulacion, as l••sse of sickenesse, or death of our frēdes, though the pain be peraduenture as great and some time greater to: yet is not the perel no where nigh halfe so muche. For in other tribulaci∣ons as I sayde beefore, the necessitie that the manne must of fyne force abyde and endure the payne, waxe he neuer so wrothe and impacient therwith, is a great occasion to moue him to kepe his pacience therein, and be content therewith, and thanke God thereof and of necessitie to make a vertue, that he maye bee rewar∣ded for. But in thys temptacion, this pe••secucion for the faythe, I meane not by fight in the ••ielde, by which the faythefull manne standeth at hys defence, and putteth the faythlesse in halfe the feare, and halfe the harme too. But where he is taken and in holde, and maye for the foreswearing or the denying of his faith, bee deliuered and su••fered to liue in reste, and some in great worldly wealth also.

In this case I say this thing, that he nedeth not to suffre this trouble and payn but he wil, is a meruelous gr••at occasion for him to fal into the sinne that the de∣uil would driue him to, that is to wete, the forsaking of his faith: and therfore as I say, of all the deuils temp∣tacions is thys temptacion, this persecucyon for the faith, the moste perilous.

Vincent.

The more perilous vncle that thys tempta∣tion is (as in dede of al temptacions the most perilous it is) the more nede haue they that stand in peril therof, to be before with substaunciall aduise and good coun∣sayle, wel armed agaynst it, that we may with the coum∣fort and consolacion therof the better beare that tribu∣lacion when it cometh, and the better withstande the temptacion.

☞Anthony••

You say Cosin Uincent therin very trueth, and I am content to fall therfore in hande therwith: but forasmuch Cosin as me thinketh that of this tribu∣lacion somewhat you bee more frayde than I (and of trueth somewhat more excusable it is in you, thā it wer in me•• my age considered, and the sorowe that I haue suffered alreadye, with some other consideracions on my part beside) reherse you therfore y^e griefes & paines that you thinke in this tribulacion possible to fall vnto you: and I shall agaynst eche of them geue you coun∣sayle, and rehearse you such occasion of coumfort and consolacion, as my poore wit and learnyng can call to my mynd.

Vincent,

In good faith vncle I am not al thing afraid in this case onely for my selfe, but well you wote I haue cause to care also for many moe, and that folke of son∣dry sortes•• men and weomen bothe, and that not all of one age.

☞Antony.

Al that you haue cause to feare for Cosin, for all them haue I cause to feare with you to, syth all your kinsfolkes and alyes•• whithin a litle be lykewyse vnto me: howbeit, to say y^e trueth, euery man hath cause in this case, to feare both for hymselfe, & also for euery other. For syth as the Scripture sayth: Vnicuique deus de∣dit curam de proximo suo, god hath geuen euery man cure and charge of his neighbour. There is no mā y^t hath any sparke of christen loue & charitie in his brest, but that in a matter of such perel as thys is, wherin the soule of man standeth in so great daunger to be loste, he muste nedes care and take thought, not for hys frēdes only, but also for hys ve••y foes. We shal therfore Cosin, not rehearse your harmes or myne that may befall in this persecucion, but al the great harmes ingeneral, as nere as we can cal to mynd that may happe vnto any man.

¶The .iii. Chapter.

SYth a man is made of the bodye and the soule, all the harme that any man maye take, it muste nedes be in one of these two, either immediatli, or by the mean•• of some suche thyng as serueth for the pleasure, weale, or commoditie of the one of these two: as for the soule first we shal nede no rehearsal of any harme, that by thys kynde of tribulacion, maye at∣tayne therto: but if that by some inordinate loue, and affeccion that the soule beare to the body, she consente to slide fro the faith, and therby doe her harme her self. Nowe remayn there y^e body, and these outward thinges of fortune, whiche serue for the mayntenaunce of the body, and minister matter of pleasure to the soule also. thorowe y^e delighte that she hath in the body, for y^e while that she is matched therwith. Considre thā first y^e losse of those outwarde thynges, as somewhat the lesse in

waight than is the body it self, in them what may a mā lose, and therby what payne maye he suffre?

Vincent.

He maye lose vncle. of which I should some∣what lose my selfe, money, plate, & other mouable sub∣staunce: thā offices, auctoritie, and finally al the landes of hys inheritaunce for euer, that himselfe & his heires perpetually might els enioye. And of al these thynges vncle you wote wel that my self haue some, litle in res∣pect of that y^e some other haue here, but somewhat more yet thā he y^• hath most here, would be wel cōtent to lose. Upō the losse of these thinges folowe nedines and po∣uertie, the payne of lackyng, the shame of begging: of which twayne I wote not wel, which is the most wret∣ched necessitie, beside the griefe and heauynes of heart in beholding good mē and faythful, & his dere frendes, be wrapped in lyke mysery and vngracious wretches and infydeles, and his most mortal enemyes enioie the commodities that hymselfe and hys frendes haue lost. Now for the body, very fewe wordes shal serue vs, for therin I see none other harme, but losse of libertie, la∣bour, imprisonment, paynful & shameful death.

☞Anthony.

There nede not muche more Cosyn, as the world is now: for I feare me y^t lesse than a fowerth part of thys, wil make many a man sore stagger in his faith, and some man fall quite therfro, that yet at thys daye before he come to y^e proofe, weneth himselfe y^t he would stand very fast: and I bese••he our lord y^t al they that so thinke & would yet when they were brought vnto the poynt, fal therefro for feare or for payn, may geat of god the grace to wene stil as thei doe, & not to be brought to thassay, where payn or feare should shew thē then. And (as it ••hewed. S. Peter) howe farre they bee deceiued now. But nowe Cosin, against these terrible thinges,

what way shal we take in geuing mē counsaile or com∣fort, if y^e fayth were in our dayes as feruent as it hath been ere thys in tymes past, litle coūsaile & litle com••ort would suffise, we should not much nede with wordes & reasonyng to extenuate and minishe the vigoure and asperitie of the paines, but the greater the more bytter that the passion were, the more ready was of old time, y^• feru••ur of faith to suffre it: & surely Cosin, I doubt it litle in my mind, but y^t if a mā had in his heart so depe a desire & loue, lōgyng to be w^t god in heauē to haue the fruiciō of hys gloryous face, as had those holy mē that were martyrs in y^• old time, he would no more now sticke at y^e payn y^t he must passe betwene, than at y^t tyme those old holy martirs did. But alas, our faynt & feble fayth with our loue to god, lesse thā leuke warme, by the fyry affecciō that we beare to our own fil••hy f••eshe, maketh vs so dull in the desier of heauē, that the sodayn dreade of euerybodely payne woundeth vs to the hearte and strike••h our deuocion starke dead, & therfore hath there euery mā Cosin (as I said before) much she more nede to thynke vpon this thing many a tyme and ofte, afore hād ere any such pe••el fal: & by much deuising therupō before they see y^e cause to feare it, while the thing shall not appeare so terrible vnto thē•• reason shal better en∣ter: and thorowe grace workyng with their diligence, engendre and set sure, not a sodayne sleyght affeccion of sufferaūce for god his sake, but bi a lōg cōtinuaūce a strōg depe roted habite, not like a reede ready to waue with euery wynde, nor like a rootelesse tree, scant set vp an end, in a loose heape of light sand, y^e wil with a blast or two be blowen downe.

The .iiii. Chapter.

FOr if we nowe consider Cosin, these causes of terroure and dreade that you haue recited, whiche in hys persequcyon for the fayth, thys

midde day deuil, maye by these Turkes reare agaynst vs, to make his incursion with, we shal well perceiue, waying them well with reason, that al be it somewhat they be in dede, yet euery part of the matter pondered, they shal wel appeare in conclusyon, thynges nothing so much to be dread, and ••••ed fro, as to folke at the first syght, they doe sodaynly seme.

¶The .v. Chapter. Of the losse of the goodes of fortune.

FOr first to beginne at these outward goodes that neither are the proper goodes of y^e soule nor of the body, but are called the goodes of fortune, ••hat serue for the sustenaūce & com∣moditie of man for the shorte season of thys presente life, as worldly substaunce offices honor & auctoritie•• What great good is there in these thinges of thēselfe, for whiche they were worthy so muche as to beare the name, by which y^e world of a worldly fauour, customa∣bly calleth them? For if the hauing of strength, make a man strong, and the hauing of heate make a man hote, and the hauyng of vertue make a man verteous: how can these thynges be verely and truly good, whiche he that hath them, maye by the hauyng of them, as well be the worse as the better, and as experience proueth, more o••ten is the worse than the better. What should a good man greatly reioyce in that that he dayly seeth most a∣bounde in y^e handes of many that be nought? Doe not now this great Turke and his ba••••awes in al these a∣uauncementes of fortune, surmount v••••y farre aboue any christen e••tate and any lordes liuing vnder hym? And was there not yet hence vpō a .x••. yere a goe the great Soudan of Siri, whiche many a yere together bare as great a porte as the great Turke, and after in

one somer vnto y^e great Turke, that whole Empier was loste, & so maye al his Empire nowe, & shal here∣after by God his grace be loste into christen mennes handes lykewi••e, when christen people shalbe mended and growe into god his fauour againe. But whē that whole kingdomes and mighty greate Empiers are of so lytle surety to stand, but so soone stra••slated frō one man vnto an other: what greate thing can you or I, yea or any Lorde the greatest in this lande, reckon him selfe to haue by the possession of an heape of siluer or golde, white and yelowe met••al not so profitable of theyr owne nature (saue for a litle glistering) as the ••ude rusty met••all of yron.

¶The .vi. Chapiter. ¶Of the vnsuertie of landes and possessions.

LAndes and possessions many men yet muche more esteme then money, because the landes seme not so casuall as money is or plate, for that though theyr other substaunce may be s••olne and taken away, yet euermore they thinke that theyr land wyll lye styll where it laye•• but what are we the better that our land can not be styrred but wyl lye s••yll where it laye, while our selfe maye be remoued & not suffered to come neare it? what great difference is there to vs, whither our substaūce be mouable or vn∣mouable, syth we be so mouable our selfe, y^t we may be remoued frō them both, & lese thē both twaine•• sauing y^• som•• time ••n y^e money is the suertie somewhat more. For when we ••e fayne our selfe to ••••ee, we may make shifte to cary some of our money w^t vs, where of our land we can not cary one inche. If our lād be a thing of more suertie than our•• money, howe happeth it than

that in this persecucion, we be more frayde to lefe it. For if it be athing of more surety, than can it not so soone be lost. In the translacion of these two greate Empi••rs, Grece first, sith my self was borne. And after Siry, since you were borne to, the land was loste be∣fore the money was founde.

Oh Cosin Uincent, if the whole worlde were anyma∣ted with a reasonable soule, as Plato had went it were, and that it had wytte and vnderstanding to marke & perceiue all thing, Lorde God howe the grounde on which a Prince buildeth his palace, would lowd laugh his lord to s••orne, when he sawe him proude of hys pos∣session, and hearde hym boaste him selfe that he and his bloud are for euer the very Lorde and oweners of that land. For than woulde the grounde thinke that while in him self. Ah thou sely poore soule, that weneste thou were halfe a God, and arte amidde thy glory, but a man in a ••aye gowne. I that am the grounde here, ouer whom thou arte so proude, haue had an hun∣dreth such owners of me, as thou callest thy selfe, m••e than euer thou hast hearde the names of. And some of them that proudly went ouer my headde•• lye nowe lowe in my belly, and my ••yde lyeth ouer them•• and many one shall as thou doest nowe, call hym selfe myne owner after the••, that neyther shalbe sybbe to thy bloud, or any worde heare of thy name, who ought your castle Cosin thre thousand yere a goe.

Vincent.

Thre thousand U••e••e? Naye naye, in any Kyng christen or heathen you maye strike ••f a thyrde parte of that well inoughe, and as farre as I weene, half of the remnau••te ••oo. In farre fe••er yeres than thre thousand, it maye well fortune, y^t a poore plough mannes bloud maye come vp to a kingdome: and a

kinges right royal kynne on the other syde fal d••une to ••he plough and carte•• and neither that king knowe that euer he came fro the carte, nor that carter knowe y^t euer he came from the crowne.

¶Antony.

We finde Cosin Uincent in ful Antentique storyes, manye s••raunge chaunces as meruelous as that, come aboute in the compasse of very f••we yeres in effect. And be such thinges than in reason so great∣ly to be sette by, that we shoulde esteme the losse at so greate, when we see that in the keping our surety is so lytle.

☞Vi••cent.

Marrye Uncle but the lesse suretye that we haue to kepe it•• syth it is a greate commoditie to haue it, the fearder by so much, and the more lothe we be to forgoe it.

☞Anthony.

That reason shall I Cosin turne againste your selfe. For if it be so as you saye, that syth the thinges be commodious, the lesse suerty that you see you haue of the keping, the more cause you haue to be afrayde of the losing.

Than on the other side, the more that a thinge is of hys nature such, that the commoditye thereof bringeth a man lytle suerty and much feare, that thing of rea∣son, the lesse haue we cause to loue. And than the lesse cause that we haue to loue a thinge, the lesse cause haue we to care the•• fore, or feare the losse thereof, or be loth to goe therefrom.

The .vii. Chapter ¶These outvvarde goodes or giftes of fortune are tvvo maner vvise to be co••sidered.

WE shal yet Cosin considre in these outwarde goodes of fortune, as riches, good name•• ho∣nest estimacion, honorable fame a••d authori∣tie. In all these thynges we shal I saye con∣sydre, that eyther we loue them and set by them, as by thynges commodious vnto vs for the state and condi∣cion of thys present lyfe, or els as thynges that we pur∣pose by the good vse therof to make thē matter of oure merite with god his helpe in y^e lyfe after to come. Let vs than first consider thē as thinges set by and beloued for the pleasure and commoditie of them for thys pre∣sente lyfe.

The .viii. Chapter. ¶The 〈…〉〈…〉 of riches being ••••t by, ••ut for this ••••••••••nt lyfe

NOwe riches loued and set by for such if we con∣sider it wel, the commodit••e that we take therof is n••t so great as our owne fond affeccion and fātasy maketh vs imagine it. It maketh vs I say not naye•• goe muche more gaye and glorious in sight gar∣nished with silke, but cloth is within a litle as warme. It maketh vs haue great ple••••y of many kinde of deli∣cate and delicious victual, and thereby to make more exce••se, but le••se exquis••te, a••d lesse superfluous fare, with fe••er su••••aytes and fewer feu••rs growyng ther∣on to, were within a litle as wholesome than the labour in the getting, the feare in the ke••yng, the payne in the partyng fro, doe more th••n ••ounte••payse a great parte of al the pleasure and commoditie that they bryng. Be∣sydes thys, y^t riches is the thyng y^t taketh many tymes frō ••is maister, al his pleasure, & his life too. For many a man is for hys riches slayne, and some y^t kepe theyr

ryches as thinges pleasaunt & commodious for theyr life, take none other pleasure in a maner therof in all theyr life, than as thoughe they bare the kaye of an other mannes Cofer, and rather are contente to lyue in nedynes miserably al theyr dayes, than they coulde finde in theyr heart to minishe theyr horde, they haue such fantasie to looke theron: yea and some men for feare lest theues shoulde steale it from them, be theyr owne theues and steale it from them selfe, whyle they dare not so muche as let it lye where them selfe may looke theron, but put it in a pot, and hide it in the grounde, and there lette it lye safe tyll they dye, and ••ometyme .vii. yere after. From which place if the pot had beene stolne awaye .v. yere before hys death, all the same .v. yere that he liued after, wening alwaye that his potte laye safe still, what hadde he been the poorer while he neuer occupied it after?

Vincent.

By my trouth Uncle not one pennye for ought that I perceiue.

¶The .ix. Chapter. ¶The litle comoditie of fame being desired but for vvorldly pleasure.

Antony.

LEt vs nowe consider good name, honest esti∣maciō, and honorable fame. For these thre thynges are of theyr owne na••ure, one, and take ••heyr difference in effect, but of the ma∣ner of the comē speache in diuersitie of degrees. For a good name maye a man haue be he neuer so poore, honest estymacyon in the common taking of the peo∣ple belo••geth not vnto any man, but him that is takē ••or one of some countenaunce and behauour, and

amonge his neyghbours had in some reputacion. In the worde of honorable fame, folke conceiue the renowme of greate estates, muche and farre spoken of by reason of theyr laudable ac••es. Nowe all this geare vsed as a thing pleasaunt and commodious for this present life, pleasaunte it maye seme to him that fasteneth his fantasy therin, but of the nature of the thinge it selfe, I perceiue no greate commoditie that it hath: I saye of the nature of the thing it selfe, because it maie be by chaunce some occasion of commoditie, as if it happe y^t for the good name y^e poore man hath, or for y^e honest estimaciō that a man of some haue our & sub∣staunce standeth in amonge his neyghbours, or for the honorable fame wherewith the greate estate is r••nowmed, yf it happe I saye that anye man beatinge them better, wyll doe them therfore any good.

A••d yet as for that, lyke as it maye sometyme so hap, (and somtime so happeth in dede:) so may it hap some∣time on the other side (and on y^e other side so it some∣time happeth in dede) that such folke are of some o∣ther enuyed and hated, and as readely by them that enuy them and hate them take harme, as they take by them that loue them, good. But nowe to speake of the thing it selfe in hys owne proper nature, what is it but a blast of another mannes mouth, as sone passed as spoken, whereupon he that setteth his delite, fedeth hym selfe but wyth wind whereof be he neuer so full, he hath lytle substaunce therein.

And manye tymes shall he muche deceyue hym selfe. For he shall weene that many prayse hym, that neuer speake worde of hym, and they that doe saye yet much lesse than he weeneth, and farre more syldome too. For they spende not all the daye he may be sure in tal∣kyng

of hym alone, and whoso commend hym moste∣wyll yet I weene in euerye, xxiiii. houres, wynke and forgeatte him once. Besydes thys, that while one talketh well of hym in one place, an other sytteth and sayeth as shrewdelye of hym in an other. And finally, some that prayse hym in hys presence, behynde hys backe, mocke hym as faste, and lowde laughe hym to scorne, and sometyme slylye to his owne face too: and yet are there some fooles so fedde with thys fond fan∣tasye of fame, that they reioyse and gorye, to thinke howe they be contynuallye praysed all aboute, as thoughe all the worlde dyd nothynge elles daye nor nyghte, but euer sytte and singe, Sanctus, Sanctu••, Sanctus. vpon them.

¶The .x. Chapter. ¶Of ••latterye.

ANd into thys pleasaunte frenesye of much foolyshe vayne glorye, be there some men broughte sometyme by suche as thē selues doe in in a manet hyre to f••••tter thē, and woulde not be contente if a man sho••lde dooe other∣wyse, but would be ••yghte angrye, not onelye if a man tolde them truth when they doe ••ought in dede, but also if they praise it but slenderly.

¶Vincent.

Forsooth Uncle thys is very trueth, I haue been ere thys and not very long agoe where I sawe so proper experience of thys poynt, that I muste stop your tale for so longe whyle I tell you myne.

☞Anthony.

I praye you Cosin tell on.

Vincent.

When I was fyrste in Almayne Uncle, it happed me to be somewhat fauoured wyth a great man of the Churche, and a greate state, one of the greatest in al that countrey there, and in dede whoso∣euer might spende as much as he might in one thing and other, were a right greate state in anye countrey of christendome. But gloryous was he verye farre aboue al measure, and that was great peitye, for it dyd harme, and made him abuse many great gyftes that god had geuē him, neuer was he sac••a••e of hearing his owne praise. So happed it one daye, that he hadde in a greate audience, made an Oracion in a certaine ma∣ner, wherein he liked him self so wel, that at his dinner he satte hym thought on thornes, tyll he myght heare howe they that satte wyth hym at hys boarde woulde commende it: and when he had sytte musing a whyle, deuising (as I thought after) on some prettye proper waye, to bring it in wythal: At laste, for lacke of a bet∣ter (lest he shoulde haue letted the matter to longe) he broughte it euen bloontly forthe, & asked vs al that satte at his bordes ende (for at his owne messe in the myddest, there satte but him selfe alone) howe wel we lyked hys Oracion y^t he made that daye. But in fayth Uncle, when that probleme was once proponed, till it was ful answered, no man I wene eate one morsel of meate more, euerye man was fallen in so depe •• studdy, for the fynding of some exquisite prayse. For he that shoulde haue broughte out but a vulgare, and a commen commendacion, woulde haue thought hym selfe, shamed for euer.

Than sayde we ou•• sentences by 〈◊〉〈◊〉 as we satte. from the lowest vnto the highest in good order, as it had beene a great matter of the cōmē wayle in a right

solemne counsayle, when it came to my parte (I will not safe it for no boste Uncle) me thought by our lady for my parte I quitte my selfe very wel. And I liked my selfe the better because me thought my wordes (being but a straunger) went yet w^t some grace in the Almayne tonge, wherein letting my latine alone, me lusted to shewe my cunning, and I hoped to be liked y^e better because I sawe y^t he y^t satte next me & should say his sētence after me, was an vnlearned priest, for he could speake no latine at al: but whē he came forth for hys parte, wyth my Lordes commendacion, the wylye Foxe hadde beene so well accustomed in the courte, wyth the crafte of flatterye, that he wente be∣yonde me to to farre. And than myght I see by him, what excellencie a ryghte meane wytte maye come to in one crafte, that in al hys whole lyfe studieth and busieth hys witte aboute no moe, but that one. But I made after a solemne vowe to my selfe, y^t if euer he and I were matched together at that borde againe, when we should fall to our flattery. I woulde flatter in latine, that he shoulde not contende ••yth me no more. For thoughe I could be contente, to be oute runne of a horse, yet woulde I no more abyde it to be out••unne of an Asse. But Uncle, here beganne nowe the game: he that sate highest and was to speake laste, was a greate benyf••zed man and not a doctor onelye, but also somewhat learned in dede in the lawes of the Churche, a worlde it was to see howe he ma••ked euerye mannes worde, that spake before hym, and it semed that euerye worde, the more proper that it was, the worse he liked it, for the com••raunce that he had to studye out a better to passe it. The man euyn

sweatte with the laboure, so that he was fayne in the whyle nowe and than, to wype hys face: howbeit in conclusion, when it came to hys course, we that had spoken before hym had so taken all vp among vs be¦fore, that we had not lefte hym one wyse woorde to speake.

Antony.

Alas good manne, among so many of you some good felowe shoulde haue lente hym one.

Vincent.

It neded not as happe was vncle. For he found out such a shift, that in his slattering, he passed vs all the mayny.

Antony.

Why, what sayd he Cosin?

Vincent.

By oure ladye vncle, not one woorde. But lyke as I trowe. Plinius telleth, that whan Appelles the painter (in the table that he painted of the sacrifice, and the death of Iphigenia) had (in the makyng of the sorowefull countenaunces of the noble menne of Grece that beheld it) spente oute so muche of hys craft and hys connyng, that when he came to make the countenaunce of kyng Agamemnon, her father whiche ye reserued for the laste, leste if he hadde made his visage before, he muste in some of the other after, eyther haue made the visage lesse dolorous than he could, and thereby haue forborne some parte of his praise, or doyng the vttermoste of hys crafte, myghte haue happed to make some other looke more heauely, for the pitie of her paine, than her owne father, which had bene yet a farre greater faulte in hys payntyng, when he came I saye to the makyng of hys face ther∣fore laste of all, he coulde deuyse no maner of newe heauye cheare and countenaunce for her father, but

that he had made there alreadye in some of the other, muche more heauye before, and therefore to thentent that no manne shoulde see what maner counte∣naunce it was that her father had, the paynter was fayne to paint him, holding hys face in hys hande ker∣cher, the like pagiaunt in a maner plaied vs there this good auncient honorable flatterer: for when he sawe that he coulde finde no woorde of prayse that woulde passe all that had been spoken beefore alreadye, the wylye foxe woulde speake neuer a woorde, but as he were rauished vnto heauen warde, with the wonder of the wysdome and eloquence that my Lordes grace had vttered in that Oracion, he fette a long sighe with an Oh from y^e bottome of hys breste, & helde vp both hys handes, and lyfted vp hys head, and cast both hys yien vp into the welkin and wepte.

Anthony.

Forsoth Cosin he played hys parte very properlye, but was that great prelates Oracyon any thyng prayse worthy? for you can tell I see well, for you would not I wene playe as Iuuenal merely describeth the blynde Senatoure one of the flatterers of Ty∣beryus themperoure, that among the remnaunte ••o magnified the greate fyshe that themperoure hadde sente for them to shewe them, whiche thys blinde Senatoure, Montanus I trowe they called hym, mar∣ueled of as muche as any that marueled moste: and many thynges he spake thereof, with some of hys woordes directed thereunto, lookyng hymself toward the lyfte syde, whyle the fyshe laye on hys ryghte syde, you woulde not I trowe Cosin haue taken vpon you to prayse it so, but if you had heard it.

☞Vincent.

I heard it vncle in dede, and to say the trouth it was not to dispraise: howbeit surelye somewhat lesse prayse might haue serued it, by more a great deale than the half: but thys am I sure, had it been the worst that euer was made, the prayse had not been the lesse of one here. For they that vsed to prayse hym to hys face, neuer considered, howe muche the thing deserued, but how great a laude and prayse themselfe could geue his good grace.

Anthony.

Surely Cosin as Terence sayeth, suche folkes make men of fooles euen starke mad, and much cause haue theyr lordes to be righte angry with them.

☞Vincent.

God hath in dede, and is I wene, but as for their lordes vncle, if they would after waxe angrye with them therfore, they should in my mynde doe them very greate wrong, when it is one of the thynges that they specially kepe them for. For those that are of suche vaynglorious mynd (be they lordes or be they meaner men) can be much better content to haue their deuises commended then amended: and requier they their ser∣uaunt and their frende neuer so specially to tell them the very trueth, yet shall he better please them if he speake them fayre, then if he tell them trueth. For they be in the case y^t Martial is speaketh of, in an Epigrame vnto a frende of his that requireth his iudgemēt, how he liked his vea••sis, but he praied him in any wise to tel him euen the verye trueth: to whō Marcial made aun∣swere in this wise. The very trueth of me thou dost re∣quire, y^e verye trueth is this my frende dere, y^t the very trueth thou wouldest not gladly heare: & in good fayth vncle y^e self same prelate y^t I told you my ••ale of•• I dare be bolde to sweare it, (I know it so surely) had on a time made of hys owne drawyng, a certayne treatise, that

shoulde serue for a leage betwene the countreye and a great Prince. In which treatise, himself thought that he had deuysed his articles so wysely, and indicted thē so wel, that al the world would allow them: wherupon longing sore to be praised, he called vnto him a frende of his, a man well learned, and of good woorship, and very well expert in those matters, as he that had been diuerse tymes embassadour for that countrey, and had made manye suche treatises hymselfe. When he toke him the treatise, and that he had read it, he asked hym howe he lyked it and sayd: But I pray you tell me the verye trouth, and that he spake so heartely, that the to∣ther had went he would fayne haue heard the t••outh, and in trust therof he tolde him a fault therein. At the hearyng whereof, he sware in greate angre. By the masse thou art a very foole. The other afterward tolde me that he would neuer tell him trueth agayne.

Anthony.

Without question Cosyn, I cannot great∣ly blame him, and thus themselfe make euerye manne mocke them, flatter thē & deceiue them. Those I say, that are of suche vayneglorious mind: For if they bee content to heare the trueth, let them than make muche of those that tell them trueth, and withdrawe theyr eare from them that falsely flatter them, and they shal be more truelye serued than with .xx. requestes pray∣ing men to tell them trueth. Kyng Ladislaus, our lord assoyle his soule, vsed muche thys maner among his seruauntes, when any of them praysed any dede of his, or any condicion in him, if he perceiued that they sayde but trueth he woulde let it passe by vncontrolled. But when he sawe that they sette to a glose vpon it for hys prayse of their owne makyng besyde, then woulde he shortlye saye vnto them: I praye thee good fellowe,

when thou sayest grace at my borde, neuer brynge in, Gloria patri, without a Sicut erat. Euery acte that euer I dyd, if thou reporte it agayne to mine honor with a Gloria patri. Neuer reporte it but with a Sicut era••, that is to wete, euen as it was•• and none other wyse: & lyfte me not vp with no lyes, for I loue it not. If men would vse this waie with them, that this noble king vsed, it woulde minishe muche of theyr false flatery. I can well alowe that mē shoulde commend (keping them within the bondes of truth) such thinges as they see prayse worthy in other men to geue them the greater courage to thencrease ther••f, for men kepe styll in that poynte one condicion of chyldren, that prayse mus••e prycke them forthe, but better it were to doe well, and looke for none.

Howbeit, they that can not finde in theyr hearte to cō∣mende an other mannes good dede, shewe them selfe eyther enuious, or els of nature very colde & dull. But out of questiō, he that putteth his pleasure in the prayse of the peo••le, hath but a fond fantasy. For if his fynger doe but ake of an hote blayne•• a great mayny of mens mouthes blo••ing out his prayse, wil scantly doe hym among them al•• halfe so much ••ase, as to haue one litle boy•• to blowe vpon his fynger.

¶The .xi. Chapter. ¶The litle commoditie that men haue o•• ••ovvme••, offices and autor••tie, if they desyre them but for the••r vvorldly co••modi••ie.

LEt vs nowe consider in likewise, what greate worldly wealth aryseth vnto mē by great offi∣ces, tow••••s and autoritie to those worldly dis∣posed people, I say that desyer•• thē for no better pur∣pose. For of them that desyer them for better, we shall speake after anon. The greate thyng that they chiefe like al therin•• is ••hat they may beare a rule, commaund

and controlled other men, and liue vncōmaunded and vncontrolled themself••: & yet this commoditie toke I so litle hede of that I neuer was ware it was so great, till a good frēd of ours merely told me once, y^t his wife once in a great angre taught it him. For whā her hus∣band had no lust to growe greatly v••ward in y^e world, nor neyther would labour for office of autoritie, & ouer y^t forsoke a right worshipful rowme whē it was offe∣red him, she fell in hand with him (he told me•• & al to ra∣t••d him, & asked him: what wil you doe? wi••l you sit still by the fyre & make goslynges in y^e asshes with a sticks as children doe? would god I wer a man, & loke what I would doe: Why wife {quod} her husband, what woulde you doe? what? by god goe foreward with y^e best of thē For as my mother was wont to say, god haue mercy on her soule: It is better to rule thē to be ruled. And ther∣fore by god I would not I warrant you be so foolish to be ruled, where I might rule. By my trueth wife, {quod} her hus••and, in this I dare saye you say trueth. For I neuer foūd you willing to be ruled yet.

Vincent.

Wel vn∣cle, I wote where you be wel inough. She is in dede a stoute maister woman: & in good fayth for ought y^t I can see, euen that same womannish mind of hers, is y^t greatest commoditie y^t men reckon vpon, in ••owmes & offices of autoritie.

Anthony.

By my trouth & me thinke∣eth very fewe there are of them that attayn any great commoditie therein. For fyrste there is in euery kyng∣dome, but one that can haue an office of suche autho∣ritie that no manne may commaunde hym or controll hym. None officer can there stand in that case, but the Kynge hymselfe, whiche onelye vncont••olled or com∣maunded, maye controlle and commaunde all.

Nowe of all the rem••aunt, eche is vnder hym: and

yet beside him, almoste euery one is vnder moe com∣maunders and controllers too than one: and some man that is in a great office, commaūdeth fewer thin∣ges and lesse labour to many men that are vnder him, thā some one that is ouer him cōmaundeth him alone.

☞Vincent.

Yet it doth them good vncle, that men must make curtesy to them, and salute them with reuerēce, and stand bare headed b••fore them, or to some of them knele peraduenture too.

Anthony.

Wel Cosin, in some part they doe but playe at gl••ke, receiue reuerence, and to theyr cost paye ho∣nor agayn therfore. For except, as I sayd, onely a king, the greatest in autoritie vnder hym, receyueth not so muche reuerence of no man, as accordyng to reason, himselfe doeth honour to him. Nor .xx. mennes curte∣sies doe him not so muche pleasure, as hys owne once kneling doeth him payne, if his knee happe to be sore. And I wi••t once a greate o••ficer of the Kynges saye, (and in good fayth I wene he sayd but as he thought) that twentie men standing barehead before him, kept not his head halfe so warme, as to kepe on hys owne cappe. Nor he neuer toke so muche ease with theyr be∣ing barehead before him, as he caught once griefe with a cough that came vpon hym, by standyng barehead long before the Kyng. But let it be that these commo∣dities be somewhat suche as they be, yet than considre whither that any incommodities be so ioined therwith, that a manne were almost as good lacke both, as haue both. Goeth all thyng euermore as euerye one of them woulde haue it? that were as harde, as to please all the people at once with one weather, whyle in one howse, the husband woulde haue fayer weather for his corne, and his wyfe woulde haue rayne for her leekes. So

while they that are in aucthoryte, be not al euermore of one minde. But sometime variance amonge them•• eyther for the respecte of profyite or for contencion of rule or for mayntenaunce of matters, sūdry partes for theyr sundry friendes. It can not be that both the partes can haue theyr owne mynde, nor often are they content which see theyr conclusion quaile, but x. times they take the missing of theyr mynde more dyspleasauntly than other poore men doe. And thys goeth not onelye to men of meane authoritie, but vn∣to the very greatest. The princes thēself can not haue you wote well al theyr wyll: for howe were it possible while eche of them almost would, if he myght, be lord ouer al the remnaunte? Than many men vnder theyr princes in authoritie, are in the case that prieuy malice and enuie many beare them in hearte falselye speake them fayre, and prayse them wyth their mouthes which when there happeth any greate fal vnto them, baule and barke and byte vpon them lyke dogges. Finally, the cost & charge, y^e daunger & perill of warre, wherin theyr parte is more than a poore mannes is, syth the matter more dependeth vpō them, and many a poore plough man maye sitte styll by the fyre while they muste ryse and walke, and somtime theyr autho∣ritie falleth by the chaunge of theyr maisters mynde, and of that see we dayly in one place or other ensam∣ples such, & so many, that y^e parable of y^e Philosopher can lacke no testimony, which likened y^• seruantes of greate princes vnto the coumptors, w^t which men doe cast a coumpt. For like as the countor y^• stādeth some∣time for a farthing, is sodeynly set vp & standeth for a. M. poūde, & after as sone set down, efte sone beneath to stand for a farthing againe: So fareth it loe, some∣time

wyth those y^t seeke the waye to rise & growe vp in au••thoritie, by y^e fauour of greate princes, y^t as they rise vp high, so fal they downe againe as lowe. Howe∣beit, though a mā escape al such aduētures & abide in great authoritie til he dye•• yet thā at y^e leaste wise euery mā mu••t leaue it at y^e last: & that whiche we cal at least, hath no very long time to it. Let a mā reckē his yeres y^t are passed of hys age ere euer he can geat vp alofte: & let him whē he hath it firste in his fiste, recken howe longe he shal be like to lyue after, and I weene that th••n y^e mo•••• parte shal haue litle cause to reioyce, they shal see the time likely to be so short, y^t theyr honour & autoriti•• by nature shal endure, beside the manifolde chaunces wherby they maye lese it more soone. And than when they see that they must nedes leaue it, the thing which they dyd much more set theyr heart vpō than euer they had reasonable cause, what sorowe ••hey take therfore, that shal I not nede to tell you.

And thus it semeth vnto me Cosin, in good faith, that sith in the hauing y^e profite is not great, & the displea∣sures neyther small nor fewe, and of the lesing so many sundry chaūces, & y^t by no meane a mā can kepe it longe, & that to parte there frō, is suche a paynefull gri••fe, I can see no very great cause, for which as an high worldly cōmoditie, men should greatly desier it.

The .xii. Chapter. ¶That these outvvard goode, desired but for vvordly vvelth be not onely litle good for the body, but ••re alsō much harme for the soule.

ANd ••hus farre haue we considered hither to•• in these outward goodes that are called the giftes of fortune no farther but the slender commo∣ditie that worldely minded men haue by them. But nowe if we consider farther what harme to the soule,

they take by them y^e desier thē, but onely for y^e wretched welth of this worke: Thā shall we wel perceiue, howe farre more happy is he that wel leseth thē, than he that cuil findeth them. These thinges though they be such, as are of theyr owne nature indifferent, y^t is to witte of them self, thinges neyther good nor badde, but are matter that maye serue to the tone or the tother, ••fter as mē wyl vse them, yet nede we litle to doubte it, but that they that desier them but for theyr worldely plea∣sure, & for no farther godly purpose, y^e deui•• shal soone turne them frō thinges indifferēt vnto thē and make them thinges verye nought. For though that they be indifferent of theyr nature, yet can not the vse of thē, lightly stand indifferent, but determinately muste ey∣ther be good or badde. And therefore he y^t desireth thē but for worldly pleasure, desyreth thē not for any good. And for better purpose thā he ••esireth them, to better vse is he not likely to put thē, and therefore not vnto good, but consequentlye to nought. As for ensample first consider it in riches he ••hat longeth for them, as for thynges of temporall commodytie and not for anye godlye purpose, what good they shall doe hym Saint Paule declareth where he writeth vnto Ti∣mothe, Qui volunt diuites fieri, incidunt in temptacionē & in laqucum di••boli & des••deria mu••ta inutilia & noxia que ••ergūt homines in interi••ū & penditio∣nem. They that long to be rich fal into tēptaciō, and in∣to the grinne of the deuil, and into many desiers vn∣profitable and noyous, which droune men into death and into perdicion. And the holy scripture sayth al∣so in the .xxi. Chapter of the Prouerbes. Qui ••ongrega•• thesauros inpingetur in laqueus mortis. He that gathereth trea∣sures shalbe showued into y^e grinnes of death, so that where as by the mouth of. S. Paule god saith y^t they

〈1 page duplicate〉〈1 page duplicate〉

〈1 page duplicate〉〈1 page duplicate〉

shal fall into the deuils grinne, he sayth in the tother place, that they shall be pusshed or showued in by vio∣lence, & of trouth whyle a man desireth riches, not for any good godlye purpose, but for onelye welth, it must nedes be that he shal haue litle cōscience in the geat∣ting, but by all euil wayes than he can inuente shall laboure to geatte them, and than shall he eyther ni∣gardly heape them vp together, which is you wote wel damnable, or wastfullye missespende them aboute worldly pompe pride and glotony, wyth occasion of many sinnes moe, and that is yet much more dam∣nable. As for fame and glory, desyred but for worldly pleasure, doth vnto the soule inestimable harme.

For that setteth mennes heartes vpon highe deuyces and desiers of suche thynges as are immoderate and outragious, & by help of false flatterers puffe vp a mā in pride, & make a bryttel man lately made of earthe, & that shall agayne shortely be layde ful lowe in earth, & there lye and rotte•• and turne againe into earth, take hym selfe in the meane tyme for a god here vpon the earth, and weene to wynne him selfe to be lorde of al y^e earth. This maketh battelles betwene these greate princes, & with much trouble to much people & greate e••fusiō of bloud one Kinge to looke to raygne in fyue realmes y^t can not well rule one. For howe many hath nowe thys great Turke, & yet aspireth to moe? And those y^• he hath he ordereth euyl, & yet him selfe worse. Than offices & roumes of authory••ye (if men desier them onely for theyr worldly fātasies) who can looke y^t euer they shal occupie thē wel, but abuse theyr autho∣rytie & doe therby greate hurte. For than shal they fal frō indifferency, & maintaine false matters of theyr frēdes, beare vp theyr seruātes & such as depend vpō

thē, w^t bearing downe of other innocēt folke, & not so able to doe hurte, as easie to take harme. Thā y^e lawes y^t are made against malefactors, shall they make as an olde Philosopher saied, to be much like vnto cobbe∣webbes, in whych the litle gnattes & flies stycke styl & hāg fast: but y^e great hūble bees breake thē & flye quite thorowe, & then y^e lawes y^t are made as a buckler in y^e defēce of Innocētes, those shal they make serue for a sword to cut, & so••e woūded thē with, & therwith woūd they theyr own soules sorer. And thus you se Cosin, y^t of al these outeward goodes which mer••••al y^e goodes of fortune, there is neuer one y^t vnto thē which longe therfore•• not for any godly purpose, but onely for theyr worldly welth, hath anye great commoditie to y^e body, & yet are they al in suche case besides y^t, very deadly destrucciō vnto the soule.

¶The .xiii. Chapter. ¶ VVhither men desier these outvvard goodes for theyr onely vvorldly vvelthe, or for any good verteous purpose, this persecucion•• of the Turke ag••inste the faith vvil declare and the cōforte that both tvvaine may rake in the lesyng them thu••.

¶Vincent.

VErely good Uncle this thing is so plainly true, y^t no mā may with any good reasō deny it. But I wee••e Uncle also, y^t there wil no mā say nay. For I see no mā y^t wil for very shame cōfesse that he desireth riches, honour & renowne, offices & roumes of authoritie, for his onely worldly pleasure. For euery mā would faine seme as holy as a horse. And therfore wil euery mā saye & would it were so beleued to, y^t he desireth these thinges (though for his worldly welth a litle so) yet principally to merite therby thorowe doing some good dede therw^t.

Anthony.

This is Cosin very sure so, y^t so doth euery mā say, but first he y^t in y^e desier therof, hath his respect therin, vnto his worldly welth as you saye, but a litle so, so much as hym self weeneth

were but a litle, may sone proue a great deale to muche: and many men wyll saye so to that haue in dede theyr principal respect vnto theyr worldely commoditie, and vnto godward therin, litle or nothing at al: & yet they pretend y^• contrarye, and that vnto theyr owne harme, quia deu•• n•• irridetur, God can not be mocked. And some per∣aduenture, knowe not well theyr owne affeccion thē selfe, but there lieth more imperfeccion, secrete in theyr affeccion, thā them selfe are wel ware of, which onely god behold••th, and therefore sayeth the Prophets vnto god. Imperfectum meum viderant oculi ••ui. Myue imperfeccion haue thy yien beholdē. For which the prophete praieth: Ab occultis meis mund•• me dom••ne•• From my hid sinnes clense thou me good lord. But nowe cosin thys tribulacion of the Turke, if he so persecute vs for the fayth, y^t those that wyll forsake theyr fayth shall kepe theyr goodes, and those shall lese theyr goodes that will not leaue theyr faith. This maner of persecucion loe, shal like a touch stone trye them, and showne the fayned from the true minded, and teache also them that weene they meane better than they doe in dede better to deserne thē selfe. For some•• there are y^• weene they meane wel while they frame thē felfe a conscyence & euer kepe stil a great heape of superfluous substaunce by them, thinking euer ••••il y^t they will bethinke thē selfe vpon some good dede, wheron they will wel bestowe it once or els theyr executors shal. But if they lye not vnto thē self, but kepe theyr goodes for anye good purpose to y^e pleasure of god in dede, thā shall they in this per∣secucion for the pleasure of God, in the keping of hys faith, be glad for to depart fro thē. And therfore as for al those thinges y^e losse I meane of al those outwarde thinges that men cal the giftes of fortune, this is me

thinketh in this Turkes pers••cucion for y^e faith, conso∣lacion great & sufficient, y^• sith euery mā that hath thē, either setteth by thē for the worlde or for God. He that setteth by thē for the worlde, hath as I haue shewed you litle profite by thē to the body, & great harme vn∣to y^• soule'. And therfore may wel (if he be wise) reckō that he winneth by the losse although he loste thē but by some commen chaunce. And much more happy thā while he leseth them by such a meritorious meane. And on the tother side, he that kepeth them for some good purpose entending to bestowe thē for the plea∣sure of god, y^e losse of thē in thys Turkes persecucion for keping of the fayth, can be no maner griefe vnto him, sith y^t by his so parting frō thē, he bestoweth them in such wyse vnto gods pleasure, y^t at that tyme whē he leseth thē by no way could he bestowe thē vnto hys high pleasure better. For though it hadde beene per∣aduenture better to haue bestowed ••hē wel before, yet sith he kepte thē for some good purpose, he woulde not haue lefte them vnbestowed•• if he had foreknowē the chaunce: but being nowe preuēted so by persecucion the he can not bestowe them in that other good waye that he would, y••t while he parteth from them because he wyll not parte from the fayth though the deuils escheator violently take them from him, yet willingly he geueth them to God.

¶The .xiiii. Chapter. ¶An other cause for vvhich any man should be content to forgoe his goodes in the Turkes said persecucion.

Vincent.

I Can not in good faythe good Uncle saye naye to none of thys, and in dede vnto them that (by the Turkes ouer runninge

〈1 page duplicate〉〈1 page duplicate〉

〈1 page duplicate〉〈1 page duplicate〉

〈1 page duplicate〉〈1 page duplicate〉

〈1 page duplicate〉〈1 page duplicate〉

of y^• countrey) were happed to be spoiled & robbed, & al theyr substaunce mouable & vnmouable, berefte & loste alreadye, theyr persones onely fled and safe: I thinke that these consideracions cōsidered therwith, that as you lately sayde, theyr sorowe coulde not a∣mend theyr chaunce, I mighte vnto thē be good occa∣sion of cōfort, & cause them as you sayde make a ver∣tue of necessitie: but in the case Uncle that we nowe speake of, y^• is to wete, where they haue yet theyr sub∣staūce vntouched in theyr own hādes, & that y^• keping or y^e losing shal hang both in ther owne hādes by the Turkes offer vpō the retaining or y^e renouncing of y^e christē faith, here vncle I find it as you said y^• this tēp∣taciō is most sore & moste perilous. For I feare me y^• we shal finde fewe of such as haue muche to lese, that shal find in theyr heartes so sodainely to forsake theyr goodes wyth all those other thynges afore rehearsed. wherupon all theyr worldely wealth dependeth.

Anthony.

That feare I much Cosin too, but therby shal it wel as I sayed appeare, y^t semed they neuer so good & verteous before, & flattered they thē selfe w^t neuer so gay a glose of good & gracious purpose y^• they kept theyr goodes for, yet were theyr heartes inwardly in y^• depe sighte of god, not sounde & sure, suche as they shoulde be, & as peraduenture some had thē self, went they had be but like a pursering of paris, holowe, light & counterfaite in dede. And yet they being such, thys would I faine aske one of thē & I pray, you Cosin take you hys persō vpon you, and in this case answere for him. What letteth, would I aske you (for we will take no smal mā for a sāple in this part, nor him y^t had little to leese, for such one were me thinke so farre from al frame, that woulde cast awaye GOD for a lytle, that he were not worthye to talke wyth:) what letteth I

saye therfore your Lordeshyp, that you be not gladlye content without any d••lib••ra••ion at all in this kind of persecucion, rather t••en to leaue your fayth, to let goe al that euer you haue at onc••.

Vincent.

Syth ••ou putte it vncle vnto me to make the matt••r more playne, that I shoulde play y^e great mans parte that is so wealthye, and hath so muche to lose, al∣beit I cannot be verye sure of an oth••r mans mynde, nor what another manne woulde saye, yet as farre as mine owne mynde can coniecture, I shal aunswere in hys person what I wene would be his lette. And ••her∣fore to your question I aunswere, that there letteth me the thing that your selfe may lightlye gesse, the losing of the manifold commodities which I now haue: Ryt∣ches and substaunce, landes and greate possessions of enheritaunce, with great rule and autoritie here in my countrey: all whiche thinges the great Turke graun∣teth me to kepe still in peace, and haue them enhaun∣ced too, so that I will forsake the fayth of Christ: Yea, I may saye to you, I haue a mocion secretly made me far••her, to kepe all thys yet better cheape, y^t is to wete, not be compelled vtterly to forsake Christe, nor all the whole christē fayth, but onely some such partes therof, as may not stand with Machomets law, & onely graū∣ting Machomet for a true prophet, & serning y^e Turke truely in his warres againste all christen Kinges, I shal not be letted to prayse Christ also, and to cal him a good man, and worship him and serue him too.

Antony.

Naye naye my lorde, Christe hath not so greate nede of your lordeship, as rather then to lese your ser∣uice, he woulde fall at such couenauntes with you, to take your seruice at halfes to serue hym and hys ene∣my both: he hath geuen you playn warnyng already

by. S. Paul, that he will haue in your seruice no par∣ting felowe. Que societas lucis ad tenebras•• Christi ad Belial? what fe∣lowship is there betwene lighte & da••kenes? betwene Christ & Belial? And he hath also plainlye shewed you himselfe by his own mouth: Nemo potest doubus domini•• seru••re. No mā may serue two lordes at once. He wil haue you beleue al y^t he telleth you, & doe al that he biddeth you, & ••orbeare al that he forbiddeth you without any maner excepcion. Breake one of his cōmaundementes, and breake al. Forsake one poynt of his faith, & forsake all, as for any thanke you geat for y^e remnaunt. And ther∣fore if you deuise as it wer Indentures betwene god & you, what thing you wil doe for him, & what thing you will not doe, as though he should hold him contēt with such seruice of yours as your selflu••t to appoint him: If you make I say, suche Indentures, you shall seale both y^e partes your selfe, & you geat therto no agremēt of him. And ••his I saye: though y^e Turke would make such an appointmēt with you as you speake of, & would when he had made it kepe it, whereas he woulde not I warraunt you leaue you so, whan he had once brought you so farre foorth, but woulde litle and litle after ere he left you, make you denie Christ altogether and take Machomette in his ••lede. And so doth he in the begin∣ning when he wil not haue beleue him to be God. For surely if he wer not god, he wer no good man nei∣ther, while he plainly said he was god. But though he would neuer goe so farre furth with you, yet Chri••t wil (as I sayde) not take youre seruice to halfes, but will that you shal loue him with all your whole heart. And because that whyle he was liuyng here fiftene hun∣dreth yere agoe•• he for••sawe this mynd of youres that you haue nowe, with whiche you woulde fayne serue

hym in some suche fashion as you myghte keepe youre ••orldely substaunce still, but rather forsake his seruice ••hen putte all youre substaunce from you: he telleth ••••u playne .xv hundreth yere agoe his owne mouthe, that he will no suche seruice of you, saying: Non pote••tis d••o seruire et Mammone. You cannot serue bothe God and your richesse together. And therefore this thing stablished for a playne conclusion, which you must nedes graunt if you haue faythe. And if you bee gone from that grounde of faythe alreadye: than is al your dysputaci∣on you wotte well, at an ende. For whereto shoulde you than rather leese your goodes, then forsake youre faythe, if you haue lost youre fayth and lette it goe al∣readye? This poynte I saye therefore, putte fyrst for a grounde betweene vs bothe twayne agrred, that you haue yet the faythe styll, and entende to keepe it alwaye styll in youre hearte, and are but in doubte whe••her you will leese all youre worldely substaunce, rather than forsake your faith in youre onely woorde. Nowe shall I replye to the poynte of your aunswere, wherin you tell me the lothnes of y^e losse, and the com∣fort of kepyng letteth you to forgoe them, and moueth you rather to forsake your fayth. I let passe all that I haue spoken of the smal commoditie of thē vnto your body, & of the great harme that the hauing of them doe to your soule. And sith the promise of the Turke, made vnto you for the kepynge of them, is the thinge that mou••••h you and maketh you thus to doubte, I aske you first whereby you wotte, ••hat when you haue done all that he will haue you dooe agaynste Chryste to the harme of your soule, whereby wote you I say, that he wyll keepe yo•• his promyse in these thynges that he promyseth you, concernynge the retaynynge

of your welbeloued worldly welth for the pleasure of your bodye.

Vincent.

What suretie can a man haue of suche a great Prince but his promise? whiche for his owne ho∣nor it cannot become him to breake.

Anthony.

I haue knowen him, and his father before him, to breake moe promises than .v. as greate as this is y^t he shoulde here make with you. Who shall come and cast it in his teeth, and tel hym it is a shame for him to be so fickle and so false of his promise? And then what careth he for those wordes that he wotteth wel he shal neuer heare? not very muche although they were told hym too. If you myghte come after and complayne your griefe vnto his own person your self, you should fynde hym as shamefast as a frende of myne a mar∣chant, found once the Soudan of Syrry, to whome (being certayne yeres about his marchandise in that countrey) he gaue a great summe of money for a cer∣taine office mete for him there for the while, whiche he scant had him graunted and put in his hande, but y^• or euer it wer ought woorth vnto him, the Sowdan so∣dainly sold it to another of his own secte, and put oure hungarien out. Thā came he to him & humbly put him in remembraunce of his graūt passed his own mouth, and signed with his own hand: whereunto the Sow∣dan answered him with a grimme countenaunce. I wil thou wit it losell, y^t nether my mouth nor my hand shal be master ouer me, to bind al my body at their plesure: but I wil so be lord and maister ouer them bothe, that whatsoeuer the one saie, or the other write, I wil be at my owne libertie, to do what me lust my self, and aske them both no leaue: wene you nowe my lorde y^t Sow∣dan & this Turke, being both of one false sect, you may

not fynde them both, lyke false of their promyse.

Vincent.

That must I nedes ieoparde, for other sure∣••y can there none be had.

Antony.

An vnwise ieoparding to put youre soule in perill of dānacion, for the kepyng of your bodely plea∣sures, and yet without suerty therof must ieoparde thē too: but yet goe a litle farther loe, suppose me that ye mighte be very sure that the Turke would breake no promyse with you, are you than sure inough to retayne all your substaunce styll?

Vincent.

Ye than.

Anthony.

What if a man shoulde aske you how long?

☞Vincent.

Howe long? as long as I lyue.

☞Anthony.

Wel, let it be so thā: but yet as farre as I can see, though the great Turke fauour you neuer so much and let you kepe your goodes as long as euer you liue: yet if it hap that you bee at thys daye fiftie yere olde, all the fauour that he can shewe you, can not make you one day younger to morowe, but euery daye shall you waxe elder than other: and then within a whyle, must you for all hys fauour lese all.

¶¶Vincent.

Wel, a man would be glad for all that to be sure not to lacke whyle he lyueth.

☞Anthony.

Wel, thā if the greate Turke geue you your good, can there than in all your lyfe no other take them from you againe?

Vincent.

Uerely I suppose no.

☞Anthony.

Maye he not lese thys countreye agayne vnto chrysten mē, & you with the takyng of thys way, fal in y^esame perel than that you would nowe eschewe?

Vincent.

Forsoth I thinke that if he geat it once, he wyl neuer lese it agayne in our dayes.

Antony.

Yes by gods grace, but yet if he lese it after

your dayes, there goeth your childrens enheritaunce awa•• agayn. But be it now that he could neuer lese it•• could none take your substaunce from you than?

Vincent.

No in good fayth none.

Antony.

No? none at all? not god?

Vincent.

God? what? yes perdy, who doubteth of that?

Antony.

Who? mary he y^t doubteth whyther there be any god or no: and that there lacketh not some such, the Prophet testifieth where he sayth. Dixit insipiens in corde suo non est deus. The foole hath sayd in his hearte there is no god. With the mouth the most folish wil forbeare to say it vnto other folke, but in the heart they let not to saye it softely, to themselfe•• and I feare me there be manye moe suche fooles than euery man would wene there were, and would not let to saye it openly to, if they for∣bare it not more for dreade of shame of men, than for any feare of god. But now those that are so frantike foolishe, as to wene there were no god, and yet in their wordes confesse hym, though that (as. S. Paul sayeth: in their dedes they denie him. We shal let hym passe til it please god to shewe hym selfe vnto them, eyther in∣wardly betyme, by his merciful grace, or els outwardly (but ouer late for them) by his terrible iudgement. But vnto you my lorde, syth you beleue and confesse (like as a wyse man should) that though the Turke kepe you promyse in letting you kepe your substaunce, because you doe hym pleasure in the forsakyng of your fayth: yet God (whose fayth you forsake, and therin dooe hym displeasure) ••ay so take them from you•• that the great Turke with all the power he hath•• is not able to keepe you, thē why wil you be so vnwise with the losse of your soule to please the greate Turke for youre goodes, whyle you wote well that god whom you displease ther∣with,

may take them frō you too: besides this sith you beleue there is a god, you cannot but beleue therwith∣that the great Turke cannot take your good from you without his wil or sufferaunce, nomore than the d••uill could fro Iob. And thinke you thā that if he wil suffre the Turke take away your good, albeit that by the ke∣ping and confessing of his faith you please him: he will when you displease him by forsaking his fayth, suffre you of those goodes that you geat or kepe, therby to re∣ioyse and enioy any benefite.

Vincent.

God is gracious, and though that mē offend him, yet he suffereth them many tymes to lyue in pro∣speritie long after.

Anthony.

Long after? naye by my trouth my lord that doth he no man: for how can that be that he should suf∣fre you lyue in prosperitie long after, when your whole life is but shorte in all together, and either almost halfe therof or more than halfe (you thynke your selfe I dare say) spent out already before? can you burne oute half a short candle, and than haue a long one left of the rem∣naunt? there cannot in this world be a worse mind, thā that a man to delight and take comfort in any commo∣ditie that he taketh by synnefull meane: for it is y^e very straight way toward y^e taking of boldnes and courage in sinne, and finally to fall into infidelitie and thinke, that god car••th not, nor regardeth not what thing mē do heare, nor what mind we be of: but vnto such minded folke speaketh holy scripture in this wise, Noli dicere pecca∣ui, et nihil mihi accidit tr••••te, patiens enim redditor est dominus. Saye not I haue sinned, & yet hath there happed me no harme: for god suffreth before he strike. But as. S. Austē saith: The longer y^t he tarieth or he strike, the sorer is y^• stroke whē he striketh: & therfore if yo•• wil well do, rekē your

selfe very sure, y^t when you deadly displease god, for the geatting or y^e keping of your goodes, god shal not suf∣fer those goodes to doe you good, but either shal he take them shortly from you, or suffer you to kepe them for a litle whyle to your more harme: and after shal he whē you least loke therefore, take you away from them, and than what an heape of heauines wyl there enter into your heart, when you shall see y^t you shal sodainly so go frō your goodes and leaue them here in y^e earth in one place, and that your body shalbe put in the earth in an other place: and (which thā shalbe most heauines of al) when you shal feare (and not without great cause) that youre soule shall firste forthwith, and after that, at the fynal iudgement, your body to be driuē down depe to∣warde the centry of y^e earth into the fiery pitte & dō∣geon of the deuil of hell, there to tary in torment world without ende? What goodes of this world can any mā imagine wherof the pleasure and commoditie could be such in a thousande yeare, as were able to recompence that intollerable payn, y^t there is to be suffered in one yeare, or in one day, or one howre either: yea & thē what a madnes is it, for that poore pleasure of youre worldly goodes of so few yeares, to cast your self both body and soule into y^e euerlasting fier of hel, wherof there is not minished the moūtenaunce of a moment by the lying there the space of an hundreth thousande yeares. And therfore our sauiour in fewe wordes concluded & confu∣ted al these folyes of them, that for the short vse of this worldly substaunce forsake him and his fayth, and sell their soules vnto the deuill for euer, where he sayeth: Quid prodest homini sivniuersum mundum lucretur, anime vero•• sue detrimen∣tum patiatur? what auaileth it a mā if he wanne all y^e whole world, & lost hys soule? This were me thynketh cause & occasion inough, to him that had neuer so much part of

this world in his hand, to be content rather to lese it al, than for the retaynyng or encreasyng of hys worldly goodes to leese and destroye hys soule.

Vincent.

This is good vncle in good fayth very true, and what other thing any of them (that would not for this bee contente) haue for to alledge in reason for the de∣fence of their folye, that can I not ymagine, nor lust in this matter to play their parte no longre. But I pray God geue me the grace to playe the contrary parte in dede, and that I neuer for anye goodes or substaunce of this wretched world, forsake my fayth toward God, nether in heart ••or tong, as I trust in his great good∣nes I neuer shall.

¶The .xv. Chapter. ¶This kind of tribulacion trieth vvhat mind men haue to theyr goodes, vvhich they that are vvyse, vvil at the fame therof see vvel and vvisely layd vp safe before.

ME thinketh Cosin that this persecucion shal not onelye as I sayde beefore•• trye mennes heartes when it cometh, & make them know their owne affeccions, whither they haue a corrupt gredy couetous mind or not: but also the very fame and expectacion therof may teache them this les∣son ere euer the thing fall vpon them it selfe to theyr no little fruite, if they haue the witte and the grace to take it in tyme whyle they maye. For nowe maye they find sure places to lay their treasures in, so that al the Turkes armie shal neuer fynde it out.

¶Vincent.

Mary vncle that way they will I warrant you not forgeat, as neare as their wittes wil serue thē. But yet haue I knowen some that haue ere this, thought that they had hidde their money safe ynough, digging ful diepe in the grounde, and haue missed it yet when they came agayne, and haue founde it digged oute and

caried away to theyr handes.

An••ony.

Naye, fro theyr handes I wene you woulde say: and it was no meruayle. For some suche haue I knowen too•• but they haue hyd theyr goodes foolishly, in such place as they were well warned before that they shoulde not, and that were they warned by hym that they wel knewe for suche one, as wist wel inough what would come theron.

¶Vincent.

Than were they more than madde. But did he tell them too where they should haue hydde it to haue it sure?

☞Anthony.

Ye by S. Mary did he. For els had he told them but halfe a tale, but he tolde them a whole tale, byddyng them that they shoulde in no wise hyde theyr ••reasure in the ground: & he shewed thē a good cause, for there theues vse to digge it out, and steale it away.

¶Vincent.

Why, where shoulde they hyde it than sayde he? For theues may happe to fynd it oute in any place.

Anthony.

Forsothe he counsayled them to hyde theyr trea∣sure in heauen, and there laye it vp, for there it shal lye safe. For thither he sayde there can no thefe come tyll he haue left hys thefte and be waxen a true man fyrst. And he that gaue this counsayle, wiste what he sayde well yonough. For it was oure Sauioure hymselfe, whiche in the syxth Chapter of Saincte Mathewe, sayeth: Nolite thezaurizare v obis thezauros in terra v bi erugo et tinea demo∣litur et v bi fures effodiunt et furantur. Thesaurizate vobis thesauros in celo, vbi ne que erugo neque tinea demolitur, et v bi fures non effodiunt nec furantur: vbi e∣nim est thesaurus tuu••, ibi est et cor tuum. Hoorde not vp for you treasures in earth where the ••ust and the mothes fret it oute, and where theues dygge it oute and steale it away. But hoorde vp your treasures in heauen, where ••eyther the ruste nor the mothe frette them oute, and

where theues digge thē not out nor steale them away. For where as is thy treasure, there is thy hert too. If we would wel consider these wordes of our Sauiour Christ, we should as me thinke, nede no more coūsel at al, nor no more comfort neither, concerning the losse of our temporal substaunce in thys Turkes persecucion for y^e fayth. For here our lord in these wordes teacheth vs where we may lay vp our substaunce safe before the persecucion come. If we putte it into the poore mens bosomes, there shall it lye safe. For who woulde goe searche a beggars bagge for moneye, if we deliuer it to the poore for Chrystes sake? we deliuer it vnto Christe himselfe: and than what persecutour can there bee so strong, as to take it out of hys hande.

☞Vincent.

These thinges are vncle vndoubtedly so true, that no man may with woordes wrestle therwith, but yet euer there hangeth in a mans heart a lothenes to lacke a liuing.

Anthony.

There doeth in dede, in theyrs that eyther ne∣uer, or but seldom heare any good coūsel there against. And when they heare it, hearken it but as they would an ydle tale, rather for a pastime or for maner sake, thā for any substancial entēt or purpose, to folow good ad∣uertisement, and take any frute therby. But verely, if we would not onely laye our eare, but also our hearte therto, & considre y^t the saying of our sauiour Christe is not a Poetes fable, nor an harpers song, but the verye holy woord of almighty god himselfe, we would, & wel we might be full sore ashamed in our self, & ful sory to. when we felt in our affeccion those wordes to haue in our heart••s no more strength and wayght but that we remayn still of thesame dull mynde, as we did before we hearde them.

〈1 page duplicate〉〈1 page duplicate〉

〈1 page duplicate〉〈1 page duplicate〉

This maner of ours in whose breastes the great good counsaile of God no better setleth nor taketh no better roote, may wel declare vs, that the thornes & the bry∣ers and brambles of our worldly substaunce growe so thicke, & spring vp so high in the ground of our hertes, that they strangle as the gospell sayeth, the woorde of God that was sowen therein. And therfore is god ve∣ry good lord vnto vs, when he causeth like a good hus∣band man his folke to come afield, (for the persecutors be his folke to this purpose) and with their hookes & their stocking yrons, grubbe vp these wicked wedes & busshes of our earthly substance, & cary them quite a∣waye from vs that the woorde of God sowen in oure heartes, may haue rowme therin, and a glad rounde a∣boute for the warmesome of grace to come to it and make it growe. For surelye these woordes of our Sa∣uiour shal we finde full true. Vbi thesaurus tuus, ibi est et cortuum Where as thy treasure is there is also thy heart. If we lay vp our treasure in earth, in earth shalbe our herts. Yf we send our treasure into heauen, in heauen shall we haue our hertes. And surely the greatest coumfort that any man maye haue in this tribulacion, is to haue his heart in heauē. If thy heart wer in dede out of this world, and in heauen, al the kyndes of tormente that al this world could deuise, could put thē to no pain here. Let vs thē send our hertes hēce thither, in such maner as we may by sending thither our worldly substaunce hence, please god. And let vs neuer doubte it, but we shal (that once done) finde our heartes so conuersant in heauen, with the glad consideraciō of our folowing the gracious counsayle of Chri••t, that the coumfort of his holy spirite inspired vs therfore, shal mitigate, mi∣nishe asswage, & in a maner quenche the great furious

feruour of the payn that we shal happe to haue by his louing sufferaunce for our farther merite in our tri∣bulaciō. And therfore, like as if we saw that we should be within a while drieuen out of this land and fayn to flee into another, we would wene that man wer mad, whiche would not be content to forbeare his goodes here for the while, and sende them into that lande be∣fore him, where he sawe that he shoulde liue al the rem∣naunt of his life. So maye we verely thinke yet oure selfe muche more madde (seeyng that we be sure it can not be long ere we shalbe sent spyte of our teeth oute of this world) if the feare of a litle lacke, or the loue to see our goodes here about vs, and the lothnes to part from them for this litle while, which we may kepe thē here, shalbe able to let vs from that sure sendyng them before vs into the tother worlde, in which wee may be sure to liue wealthely with them, if we sende them thi∣ther, or els shortly leaue them here behinde vs, and thā stād in great ieopardy, there to liue wretches for euer.

¶Vincent.

In good faythe vncle, me thinke y^t concerning the losse of these outward thinges, these cōsideracions are so sufficiēt comfortes, y^• for my own part saue one∣ly grace well to remembre thē, I woulde me thinke de∣syre no more.

¶The .xvi. Chapter. ¶Another comfort and courage agaynst the losse of vvorldly substaunce.

MUche lesse then this may serue Cosin, with cal∣ling & trusting vpon gods helpe, without which muche more than this cannot serue. But the feruour of y^e christen fayth so sore fainteth now adaies, and decayeth coming from hote vnto leuke warme, & from leuke warme almost to kaye cold, that men must nowe be fayne as at a fire that is almost out, to lay ma∣ny drye stickes therto, and vse much blowing thereat••

but els woulde I wene by my trouth, y^• vnto a warme faithful man, one thing alone wherof we spake yet no word, wer comfort ynough in this kind of persecu••ion agaynste the losse of all goodes.

¶Vincent.

What thing may that be vncle?

¶Anthony.

In good fayth Cosin, euen the bare remēbraunce of the pouertie that our Sauior willingly suffered for vs. For I verely suppose, that if there wer a great king y^t had so tēder loue to a seruāt of his y^t he had, to helpe him out of daunger, forsaken & left of al his worldly welth & royaltie, & become poore & nedy for his sake: y^e seruāt couldscant be found, y^t wer of such an vnkind villayn corage, y^t if himselfe came af∣ter to some substance, would not w^t better wil lese it al ••gain, than shamefully to forsake such a maister. And therfore as I say, I doe verely suppose, y^t if we woulde wel remēbre & in wardly considre y^e great goodnes of our sauiour Christ toward vs, not yet being hys poore siuful seruantes, but rather his aduersaries & hys ene∣mies. And what welth of thys worlde y^t he willinglye forsoke for our sake, being in dede vniuersal king ther∣of: & so hauing y^e power in hys own hād•• to haue vsed it if he had woulde, in stede whereof (to make vs ryche in heauē) he liued here in nedines & pouertie al his lyfe, & nether would haue autoritie, nor kepe netherlādes nor goodes. The depe cōsideracion & earne•••• aduisemēt of this one point alone, wer able to make ani kind christē man or womā wel contēt rather for his sake again to geue vp al y^t euer god hath lent them:) & lent thē hath he al y^t euer they haue) than vnkindly & vnfaithfully to forsake hym. And him they forsake, if y^t for feare ••hey forsake y^e confession of his christen faith. And therfor•• to finish this pece wi••hal concerning y^• drede of lesing our outward worldly goodes, let vs consider y^e sl••ndre cōmoditie y^• they bring, w^t what labor they be b••ught,

how litle while they abyde, with whōsoeuer they be lō∣gest, what payn theyr pleasure is mingled withal, what harme y^e loue of them doth vnto the soule, what losse is in y^• keping, Christes fayth refused for thē: what win∣ning in y^e losse, if we lese thē for gods sake, how muche more profitable they be wel geuen, than euil kept. And finally, what vnkindnes it wer, if we would not rather forsake thē for Christes sake, thā vnfaythfully forsake Christ for them: which while he liued for our sake, for∣soke al y^e world, beside the suffring of shameful & pain∣ful death, whereof we shall speake after. If we these thinges (I say, wil cōsider wel & wil pray god with his holy hand to print thē in our heartes, & wil abyde and dwel styll in y^e hope of his helpe, hys trueth shal (as the prophete sayth) so cōpasse vs about with a pauice, y^• we shall not nede to bee afrayd ab incursu et demonio meridiano. of this incursion of this midde day deuil, thys open plain persecucion of y^e Turke•• for any losse y^t we can take by y^e bereuing from vs of our wretched worldlye goodes, for whose shorte & smal pleasure in thys life forborne, we shalbe with heauenly sub••taun••e euerlastinglye re∣compensed of God in ioyful blisse and glorye.

¶The .xvii. Chapter. Of bodely payn, and that a man hath not cause to take discōfort in persecucion, though he fele himselfe in an horror, at the thistking vpon the bodely payne.

¶Vincent.

FOrsoth vncle, as for these outward goodes you haue so far••orth saide, y^t albeit no man cā be sure what strength he shal haue, or how faint & howe feble he may hap to find himself whē he shal come to y^e point, & therfore I can make no warrātise of my selfe, seing y^t S, Peter so sodainly fainted at a womās word, & so cowardly forsoke his maister for whom he had so boldl•• fought w̄tin so few houres afore. And by y^t fal in forsakīg, wel perceued y^t h•• had been rash in his promise

and was wel woorthy to take a fall for puttyng so full trust in himselfe: yet in good fayth me thinketh nowe, (and God shall I trust helpe me too, kepe this thought stil) y^t if the Turke should take al that I haue vnto mi very shyrt, except I forsake my fayth, & offre it me al a∣gain with .v. times asmuch therto to fal into his secte, I would not once sticke thereat, rather to forsake it e∣uery whit, thē of Christes holy faith to forsake any one poynt. But surely good vncle, whē I bethinke me far∣ther on the griefe & the payne that may turne vnto my flesh: here fynd I y^t feare y^t forseth my heart to trēble.

Anthony.

Neither haue I cause to meruayle therof, nor you Cosin cause to be dismayde therefore. The great horror & feare that our Sauiour had in his own flesh agaynst his paynful passiō, maketh me litle to meruayl, & may wel make you take that comfort to, y^t for no such maner of gendring felt in your sēsual partes, the flesh shrinketh at the meditacion of payne and death, youre reason shal geue ouer, but resist it and manlye maister it: and though you woulde fayne flee from the payne∣ful death, and be loth to come thereto: yet may the me∣ditacion of his great grieuous agony moue you, & him selfe shall, if you so desyre him, not fayle to worke with you therin, & geat and geue you the grace that you shal submit and conforme your will therin vnto his, as he did his vnto hys father, & shal therupon be so cōforted with the secret inward inspiracion of his holy sprite, as he was with the personal presence of y^t Angell, that af∣ter his agony came & comforted him, that you shall as his true disciple folow hym, and with good will with∣out grudge, doe as he did, and take your crosse of pain & passion vpon your backe, and dye for the trueth with him & therby raigne with him crouned in eternal glory.

And this I say to geue you warning of the thyng tha•• is truth, to thentent whan a man feleth such an horror of death in his heart, he should not therby stand in out∣ragious feare that he were fallyng, for many such men standeth for al that feare, full fast. And finally, better a∣bydeth the brunte when god is so good vnto hym, as to bryng hym therto and encourage hym therin, thā doth some other, that in the beginning feleth no feare at al, and yet may it be, and most oftē so it is, for god hauing many mansions, and all wonderful welthfull in his fa∣thers house, exalteth not eueri good mā vp to the glory of a martyr, but foreseing their infirmitie, that though they be of good wyll before, and peraduenture of right good courage to, would yet play. S. Peter, if they wer brought to the poynt, and therby bryng theyr soules in∣to the perill of eternall damnacion. He prouideth other∣wyse for them, before they come thereat, and eyther fin∣deth away that men shal not haue the mynd to lay any handes vpon them, as he founde for his di••ciples, whē hymself was willingly takē, or that if they set hand on thē, they shal haue no power to holde thē, as he founde for. S. Iohn theuangelist, whiche lette his sheete fall from hym, whereupon they caught holde and so stedde hymselfe naked awaye, and scaped fro them or thoughe they hold him and bryng him to prison to, yet god some∣tyme deliuereth them thence, as he did. S. Peter, and sometyme he taketh them to him, out of the pryson into heauen, and fuffereth them not to come to their tor∣ment at all, as he hath done by many a good holy man. And some he suffereth to be brought into the tormente, and yet he suffereth them not to dye therin, but lyue many yeares after, and dye their natural death, as he did. S. Iohn theuangelist and by mani an other moe,

as we maye well see bothe in sundrye stories, and in the Epistles of Saincte Ciprian also. And therefore whiche waie GOD wyll take with vs, we can not tell: but surelye if we be true Christian men, this can we wel tell, that withoute anye bolde warrantise of oure selfe, or foolishe truste in oure strength, we be bound vpon pain of damnacion, that we be not of the contrarye mynde. but that we wyll wyth hys helpe, (how lothe so euer we fele oure fleshe thereto) rather yet than forsake hym or hys fayth afore the worlde (whyche if we dooe, he hath promysed to forsake vs afore hys father, and all the holy coumpanye of heauen.) Rather I saye, than we would so dooe, we would with his helpe endure and sustayn for his sake all the tormentrye that the deuyll with all hys faithlesse tormentors in thys world, would deuyse. And then when we be of thys mynde, and sub∣mytte oure wyll vnto hys, and call and praie for hys grace, we can tell well ynough that he will neuer suffre them to putte more vpon vs, than his grace wyll make vs all to beare, but wyll also wyth theyr temptacion prouyde vs for a sure waye, for Fidelis deus? (sayth Saynct Paule) Qui non patitur vos tentari supra id quod potestis, sed dat etiam cum temptatione prouentum. GOD is (sayth the Apostle, fayth∣full, whiche suffereth you not to be tempted aboue that you maye beare, but geueth also with the tempta∣cyon a waye oute. For eyther as I sayde, he will keepe vs oute of theyr handes (thoughe he beefore suffre vs to be feared wyth them to proue oure faith wythal, tha•• we may haue by the examinaciō of our own mind, some coumforte in hope of hys grace, and some feare of oure owne frayltie to dryue vs to call for grace (or elles if we fall in theyr handes) so that we fall not fro the trust

of hym nor cease to call for his helpe) hys trueth shal as the prophete saieth) so compasse vs about with a pauice•• that we shall not neede to feare this incursion of thys midde daye deuyll. For eyther shall these Turkes hys tormentors, that shall entre this, and and persecute vs, eyther they shall I saye, not haue the power to touche oure bodies at all, or elles the shorte payne that they shall putte vnto oure bodyes, shall turne vs to e∣ternall profite bothe in oure soules and in oure bodies too. And therefore Cosin, to beegynne with, lette vs be of good coumforte. For sythe we be by oure fayth verye sure, that holy Scripture is the woorde of god, and that the worde of god, can not be but verye true, and that we see that bothe by the mouthe of his holye Prophete, and by the mouthe of his blessed Apostle also, god hath made vs so faithfull promyse, bothe that he wyll not suffre vs to be tempted aboue oure power, but wyll bothe prouyde a waye out for vs, and that he wyll also rounde aboute so coumpasse vs with his pauice, and defende vs, that we shall haue no cause to feare this midde daye deuyl, with all his persecucion: we can not nowe but be verye sure (excepte we be verye shamefullye cowardous of hearte, and towarde god in fayth out of measure fainte and in loue lesse thā leuke warme, or waxen euen kaye colde) we maie be verie sure I saie, that either God shall not suf∣fre the Turkes to inuade this lande, or if thei dooe god shal prouide suche resistence that thei shall not preuaile, or if thei do preuaile, yet if we take the wai that I haue tolde you) wee shall by theyr persecucyon take lytle harme or rather no harme at all, but that that shall seme harme, shall in dede bee to vs no harme at al, but ••ood.

for if god make vs & kepe vs good mē (as he hath pro∣mised to doe if we pray therfore) thā saith holi scripture. Bonis omnia cooperantur in bonum. Unto good folke all thynges turne them to good: and therfore Cosin, syth that God knoweth what shall happe and not we, lette vs in the meane whyle with a good hope in the helpe of Goddes grace, haue a good purpose with vs of sure standing by his holy faith againste all persecucions, from which if we should (which our lord forbidde) hereafter either for feare or pain (for lacke of grace lost in our owne default) myssehappe to decline: yet had we both wonne the well spent time in thys good purpose before, to y^e minishmēt of our payne, and were also much the more lykely that god shoulde lyft vs vp after oure fall, and geue vs his grace againe: howbeit, if this persecucion come, we be by this meditacion and well continued entente and purpose beefore, the better strengthed and comfirmed, and muche the more lykely for to stand in dede. And if it so fortune (as with gods grace at mēs good prayers and amendment of our euill lyues, it maye fortune ful well) that the Turkes shall eyther be well withs••anden and vanquished, or paraduenture not inuade vs at all: than shal we perdye by this good purpose geat our selfe of god a very good cheape thanke: and on the other side, while we now thinke theron (as not to thynke thereon, in so great lykelihode therof, I wene no wise man can. If we shoulde for the feare of worldly losse or bodelye paine, framed in oure owne mindes, thinke that we would geue ouer, and to saue our good and oure lyues forsake our Sauiour by deniall of hys fayth, than whi∣ther the Turke come or come not, we be gone from god the whyle, and then if they come not in dede, or come & be driuen to f••yghte, what a shame should thys be to

vs before y^• face of god, in so shameful cowardous wyse to forsake hym for feare of that payne, that we neyther felt, nor neuer was falling towardes vs.

Vincent.

By my trouth vncle I thanke you, me thynke that though you neuer sayd more in the matter, yet haue you euen with this that you haue of the feare of bodelye payne in this persecucion, spoken here already meruei∣lously comforted my heart.

☞Antony.

I am glad Cosin, if your heart haue takē com∣fort therby: but and if you so haue, geue god the thanke and not me, for that worke is his and not mine, For ney∣ther am I able any good thynge to saye but by hym, nor al the good wordes in this world, no not y^e holy wordes of god himself, and spokē also with his own holy mouth, can be able to profite the man with th•• sound entring at his eare, but if the spirite of god therwith inwardely worke in his soule: but that is his goodnes euer ready to do, except the let be thorowe the vntowardnes of our owne frowarde wyl.

¶The .xviii. Chapter. Of comforte agaynst bodely payn, and fyrst agaynst captiuytie.

ANd therfore now being somwhat in comfort and courage before, wherby we may y^e more quietly consider euery thyng which is some∣what more hard and difficile to do, whan the heart is before taken vp and oppressed with y^e troublous affeccion of heauy sorowful feare: lette vs examine the wayght and substaunce of these bodily paynes as the so∣rest part of this persecucion whiche you rehearsed bee∣fore, whiche were (if I remember you righte) thraldome, imprisonment, painful and shameful death. And first let vs as reason is, begynne with the thraldome, for that was, I remember the fyrst.

Vincent.

I praye you good vncle say thā somewhat thereof, for me thinketh vncle y^t captiuitie is a meruei∣lous heauy thing, namely whā they shal, as they most cōmonly doe, cary vs farre from home, into a straūge vncoth lande.

¶Anthony.

I cannot saye naye, but that some grief it is Cosin in dede: but yet as vnto me not halfe so much as it would be•• if they could cary me out into any such vnknowē countrey that god would not wete where nor finde the meane to come at me but in good faith Cosin, nowe if my transmigracion into a straunge countrey shoulde bee any greate griefe vn∣to me, y^e fault should be much in my self. For sith I am very sure that whithersoeuer men cōuay me, god is no more verely here, then he shalbe there, if I geat (as I may if I will) the grace to set my whole heart on him•• and long for nothing but hym, it can than make no great matter to my mynd, whither they cary me hence or leaue me here. And thā if I find my mynd much offended therewith, that I am not stil here in my own countreye, I must considre that the cause of my griefe is myne owne wrong imaginacion, wherby I beguile my self with an vntrue perswasion, wening that this w••re myne owne countrey, wheras of trueth it is not so. For as S. Paul saith. Non habemus hic ciuitatem manentem sed futuram inquirimus we haue here no Citie nor dwelling con∣trey at al. but we seke for one that we shal come to, and in what countrey so••uer we walke in thys world, we bee but as pilgrimes and waye faring men: and if I shoulde take any countrey for my own, it must, be that countrey to which I come, and not the countrey from whiche I ••ame, that countrey that shallbee to me than for a whyle fo straunge, shall yet perdye bee no more straunge to me, nor lenger straunge to me neither, thā was mine own natiue countrey whē I came first into

it. And therfore if y^e point of my beyng farre from hence be very greuous to me, and that I finde it a greate payne, that I am not where I would be: that griefe shall greate parte growe for lacke of sure settyng and setlyng my mynde in god, where it shoulde be: which fault of myne when I mend, I shall soone ease my griefe. Nowe as for al other griefes and paynes that are in captiuitie, ••hraldom and bondage, I cannot denye but many there are and greate, howbeit they seme yet somewhat (what saye I somewhat, I maye saye a greate deale) the more because we tooke oure former liber∣ty for more a great deale than in dede it was. Let vs there∣fore consydre the matter thus: captiuitie, bondage or thral∣dome what is it but the violente restrainte of a man, beeing so subdued vnder the dominion, rule and power of an other, that he ••ust dooe what the tother lust to commaunde him, and maye not at hys libertie dooe suche thynges as he lust hymselfe: nowe when we shall be caryed awaye with a Turke, and be fayne to bee occupied aboute suche thynges as he luste to sette vs here shal we lamente the losse of oure libertie, and thynke we beare an heauye burdayne of oure seruile condycion, and so to dooe I graunte well we shall haue many tymes greate occasyon, but yet shoulde we I suppose sette thereby somewhat the lesse, if we woulde re∣membre well what libertie that was that we lost, and take it for no larger than it was in ded••: for we recken as though we myghte before doe what we woulde, but therin deceyue we oure selfe. For what free man is there so free•• that can be suffered to doe what hym lust? In many thinges GOD hath res••rayned vs by hys hygh commaundemente so ma∣ny, that of those thynges whiche els we woulde dooe, I wene it be more ••hē the half. Howbeit, because (god forg••ue vs) we let so litle therfore, but doe what we lust, as thoughe we heard him not, we reckē oure libertie neuer y^e lesse ••or y^•:

But ••han is oure libertie much restrayned by the lawes made by men, for the quiet and politique gouernaunce of the people. And these would I wene let oure libertie but a litle neither, were it not for feare of paynes that maye fal therupon. Loke than whither other men, y^t haue auc∣thoritie ouer vs, commaunde vs neuer no busines which we dare not but doe, and therfore do it ful oft, full sore a∣gainst our willes. Of which thinges some seruice is some time so paineful and so perilous too, y^• no lord can light∣ly commaunde his bond man worse, nor seldome dooeth commaunde him half so sore. Let euerye free man that rekoneth his libertie to stand in doing what he lust, cōsy∣dre wel the pointes, & I wene he shal thā find his liberty much lesse thā he toke it for before. And yet haue I lefte vntouched y^e bondage, y^• almost euery man is in, y^• bosteth himself for free, y^e bondage I meane of sin: which to be a very bondage, I shall haue our sauiour himselfe to beare me good record. For he saith: Qui facit peccatum seruus est peccati. He y^t committeth sin is the thral, or the bondman of sin. And then if this be thus (as it must nedes so be sith god saith it is so) who is there thā, y^t may make so muche boste of hys libertie, y^t he should take it for so sore a thing & so strange to become through chaūce of warre, bōd vnto a mā while he is already, through sinne become willingly thrall and bonde vnto the deuil. Let vs loke wel how many thinges and of what vyle wretched sort the deuil driueth vs to do dayly through the rash braydes of our blinde affeccions, which we be for our fautful lacke of grace, fayne to folow, and are to feble to refraine, and than shal we finde in oure naturall fredome, our bonde seruice suche, that neuer was there any man lord of any so vile a villain, y^t euer would for very shame commaunde hym so shamefull seruice. And let vs in the doyng of oure seruice to the man, that

we be slaue, vnto, remēber what we wer wonte to doe about the same tyme of the daye while we were at our free lybertye before, & were well likelye if we were at liberty to doe the like againe: & we shall peraduenture perceiue that it were better for vs to doe this busines than that. Nowe shall we haue greate occasion of cō∣forte, if we considre that our seruitude (though in the coumpte of the worlde it seme to come by chaunce of warre) cōmeth yet in verye dede vnto vs, by the pro∣uident hand of god•• and that for our great good if we wyll take it well, both in remyssion of sinnes, & also matter of our merite. The greatest griefe, that is in bōdage or captiuitie, is this as I trowe, y^t we be forced to doe such labour, as wyth our good wyll we woulde not. But then agaynst that griefe Senecke teacheth vs a good remedye. Semper da operam ne quid inuitus fatias. En∣deuour thy selfe euer more y^t thou doe nothing against thy wil. But that thing that we see, we shal nedes doe, let vs vse alway to put our good will thereto.

Vincent.

That is vncle sone said: but it is harde to doe.

¶Anthony.

Our froward mind maketh euery good thing hard, and that vnto our owne more hurte and harme. But in this case, if we will be good christen mē, we shal haue greate cause gladlye to be content for the greate comforte y^t we may take thereby, while we remmbre y^• in the pacient & glad doing of our seruice vnto y^• mā for goddes sake according to his high cōmaundemēt by the mouth of. S. Paule. Seruiobedite dominis. We shall haue our thanke & our whole reward of god, finally if we remēber the greate hūble mekenes o•• our sauiour Christ him selfe, y^t he being very almightie god Humilia∣uit seme••ip••um formam serui accipiens, Humbled him self & toke y^e forme of a bond mā or a slaue, rather than hys father

should forsake vs, we may thinke our selfe very vn∣kind caitiues, & very frātique foles to, if rather thā en∣dure this worldly bondage for a while, we would for∣sake him y^t hath by his own death, deliuered vs out of euerlasting bōdage of y^e deuil, & will for our shorte bō∣dage geue vs euerlasting libertie.

Vincent.

Well fa••e you good vncle, this is very well said, albeit y^• bōdage is a cōdiciō y^t euery mā of any courage would be glad to es∣chewe, & very loth to fal in, yet haue you wel made opē, y^t it is a thinge neither so straunge nor so sore•• as it be∣fore semed vnto me, & specially farre frō such as anye mā y^• any wit hath should for feare therof shrinke fro y^e cōfession of his faith: & now therfore I pray you some∣what speake of impriesonmēt.

¶The .xix. Chap. Of impryesonmen••e and comforte there agaynste.

¶Anthony.

THat shall I Cosin with good will: & fyrste if we ••oulde considre what thing impriesonment is of his owne nature, we should not me thinketh haue so greate horror therof. For of it selfe it is perdie, but a restraynt of liberty, which letteth a mā frō going whither he would.

Vincent.

Yes by. S. Mary vncle, me thinketh it is much more sorowe than so. For beside y^• ••••t & re••••rainte of libertie, it hath many moe displey∣sures & very sore griefes knitte & adioyned therunto.

A••thony.

That is Cosin very true in dede. And those paines, amōge many sorer thā those, thought I not af∣ter to forgeat: howbeit•• I purposed now to cōsider first impri••sonmēt, but as impriesonment onely w^tout any other cōmoditie beside. For a mā maye be perdy impri∣soned, & yet not set in y^e stockes, nor colored fast by the necke, & a mā may be let walke at large where he will & yet a payre of f••tters fast riueted on his legges. For in this coūtry ye wote well & in Cicile & port••ngale to, so goe there all y^e slaues. Howebeit, because y^t for such

thinges mennes ha••tes hath such horror therof, albeit that I am not so mad as to goe about, to proue y^t bod••ly paine were no paine, yet syth y^t because of these maner of paines, we so specially abhore the state & condicion of prisoners, we shoulde me thinke well perceiue that a great parte of our horror groweth of our owne fan∣tasie if we would cal to mynde & consider the state and condicion of many other folke in whose state & condi∣siō we would wishe our self to stand taking thē for no prisoners at al y^• stand yet for al that in much part of y^e self same pointes y^t we abhorre imprisonment for. Let vs therfore cōsider these thinges in order. And first as I thought to beginne, because those other kindes of grieues y^t come w^t impriesonmēt are but accedentes therunto, & yet neither such kindes of accedētes as be eyther proper thereunto, but y^t they may (almost al) fal vnto a mā w^tout it, nor are not such accedentes ther∣into•• as are vnseperable therfro: but y^t imprisonment may fal to a mā, and none of all the therw^t. We wil I saye therfore begin w^t y^e cōsidering what maner paine or cōmoditie we should reckin impriesonment to be of him selfe & of his owne nature alone. And than in the course of our communicacion, you shal as you lust en∣creace & aggreue y^e cause of your horror w^t y^e terror of those painful accedentes.

Antony.

I am sory y^t I did en∣terrupte your tale. For you were about I se wel to take an orderly way therin. And as yourself haue deuised, so I beseche you procede. For though I reckin imprie∣sonmēt much y^• sorer thing by sore & harde handling therin, yet reckē I not y^e inpriesonment of it selfe any lesse thā a thing very tedious, al were it vsed in y^e most fauorable maner y^e i••possiple might. For vncle, if it wer a great prince y^t were takē prisoner vpō y^e fielde, & in y^e hand of a christē king, which vse in such case (for

the cōsideraciō of theyr former state (and the mutabl•• chaūge of y^e warre) to shewe much humanitie to thē, & in very fauorable wise entreate thē. For these infidele Emperours handle often times the princes that they take, more villanously, then they doe the poorest men, as the great Tamberlayne kepte the greate Turke whan he had taken him, to treade on his backe alwaye while he lepte on horse backe. But as I beganne to saye by the sample of a prince taken priesoner, were the impriesonmente neuer so fauorable, yet were it in my minde no litle griefe in it selfe for a man to be pinned vp, though not in a narowe chaumber, but although hys walke were right large, and right fayre gardens to therin, it coulde not but grieue hys hearte to be re∣strained by an other man, wythin certaine limittes and boundes, and lese the libertie to be where him lust.

☞Anthony.

Thys is Cosin well considered of you. For in this you perceiue wel, that imprysonment is of hym selfe, and hys owne very nature alone, nothing els but y^e retaining of a mannes persō w^tin the circuite of a certaine space narrower or larger as shalbe lymi∣ted to him, restraining his libertie frō the father going into any other place.

Vincent.

Uery wel said as me thin∣keth.

☞Anthony.

Yet forgat I Cosin, to aske you one questiō

¶Vincent.

What is y^t Uncle?

¶Anthony.

Thys loe, if there be two mē kepte in two seuerall chābers of one great castle, of which two chābers, y^e tone is much more larger thā the tother: whither be the prisoners both or but y^e tone, y^t hath the lesse rowme to walke in?

Vincent.

What questiō is it vncle, but y^t they be priesoners both as I said my selfe before, although y^e tone lay fast loc∣ked in slockes, & the tother had al the whole castel to walke in.

Antony.

Me thinketh verely Cosin, y^t you say y^e truth, & thā if prisonmēt be such a thing as your self

here agre it is, y^• is to witte, but a lacke of libertie to goe whither we lust, now would I faine witte of you what any one mā you knowe y^t is at this daye out of prison?

¶Vincent.

What one mā Uncle? Mary I knowe almost none other. For suerly•• prisoner am I none acqainted w^t y^t I remēbre.

Anthony.

Thē I see wel you visete pore prisoners selde.

Vincent.

No by my trouth vncle, I crye god mercy, I send thē somtime my almose, but by my trouth, I loue not to come my self, where I should see such misery.

Antony.

In good faith Cosi Uincēt, though I saye it before you•• you haue many good condicions: but suerly though I say it before you, to y^e cōdicion is none of thē: which cōdiciō if you would amende, than should you haue yet y^e moe good cōdiciōs by one. And peraduēture by mo thā .iii. or foure. For I assure you, it is harde to tel howe much good to a mannes soule y^e personal visiting of poore prisoners doth. But nowe sith you can name me none of them that are in priesō, I praye you name some one of al thē, y^t you be, (as you saye) better acquainted w^t, men I meane, y^t are out of prison: for I knowe me thynke as fewe of thē as you knowe of y^e tother.

Vincent.

That were vncle a straūge case, for euery mā is vncle out of priesō, y^t may goe whi∣ther he will, though he be y^e pores•• begger in y^e towne. And in good faith vncle (because you reckē imprisō∣ment so smal a matter of it self) the poore begger y^t is at his libertie & maye walke where he wil, is as me semeth in better case, then is a king kepte in prieson y^t can not goe but where men geue hym leaue

☞Antony.

Well Cosin, whether euery waye walking beggre be by this reason out of priesō or no, we shal cōsidre far∣ther whē you wyl: but in y^e meane while I can by thys reasō see no prince y^t semeth to be out of prison. For if the lacke of libertie to goe where a mā wyll be imprie∣sonment,

as your selfe saye it is. Than is the great Turke by whom we so feare to be put in prisō, in prison already him selfe. For he may not goe where he wil, for and he mighte, he woulde into Portingale, Italie, Spaine, Fraūce, Almayne & Englād & as farre on an other quarter to: both preter Iohns land & y^e graund Canis to. Nowe y^e begger y^t you speake of, if he be as you saye he is, by reason of hys libertye to goe where he will, in muche better case then a kinge, kepte in prieson because he can not goe but where mē geue h••m leaue: thā is y^t begger in better case not onely then a prince in prieson, but also thē many a prince out of pri∣son to. For I am sure there is many a begger y^t maye w^tout let, walke farther vpō other mennes grounde, thā many a prince at his best libertie maye walke vpō his owne. And as for walking out abrode vpon other mēnes, y^t prince might happe to be sayd naye, & holden faste, where that begger with hys bagge and hys staffe would be suffered to goe forth & holde on his waye. But for as much Cosin, as neyther the begger nor y^e prince is at free liberty to walke where they will, but that if they would walke in some place, neither of thē both should be suffered, but men would w^tstand thē & say thē nay: Therfore if priesonmēt be (as you graūte it is) a lacke of liberty to go where we lust, I can not se but as I saye y^e begger & the prince, whom you recken both at libertie, be by your own reasō restrayned in pri∣son both.

Vincent.

Yea but vncle y^e tone & the tother haue waye inough to walke: y^e tone in his owne grounde, y^e tother other mennes, or in y^e common hye waye where they may walke till they be both wery of walking, ere any mā say thē nay.

Antony.

So may Cosin y^e king y^t had as your self put y^e case al y^e wole castle to walke in, & yet

you say not nay, but that he is prisoner for al y^t, though not so straitly kept, yet as verely priesoner as he y^t lieth in y^e storkes••

Vincent.

But they may goe at y^e least waies to eu••ry plac•• y^t they nede, or y^t is cōmodious for them, & therfore they doe not will to goe but where they may goe•• and therfore be they at libertie to goe where they will.

Anthony.

Me nedeth not Cosin to spende the time about y^e inpugning euery parte of this answere for let∣ting passe by, y^t though a priesoner were w^t his keper, brought into euery place where nede requiered: yet ••ith he might not whē he woulde, goe where he would for his onely pleasure, he were you wote wel a prisoner stil. And letting passe ouer also this, y^t it were to thys begger nede, & to this kinge cōmodious to goe into diuerse places, where neither of thē both maye come: And letting passe also that neyther of them bothe is lightly so tēperatly determined, but y^t they both faine so would doe in dede, if this reason of youres put thē out of prisō, & sette thē at libertie, & make thē fre (as I wil wel graunt it doth if they so do in dede) y^t is to wit, if they haue no wil to goe, but where they maye goe in dede. Thā let vs loke on our other prisoners, enclosed w^tin a castle•• & we shal finde y^t the s••raites•• kepte of thē both (if he get y^e wisdome, & the ••race to quiet his own mind, & holde him selfe content w^t y^t place, & long not (like a womā wy••h child for her lustes) to be gadding out any where els•• is by y^e same reasō of youres while hys will is not longing to be any where elles, he is I saye at his free liberty, to be where he will, and so is out of prieson to. And on the tother side•• if though his wyll be not longing to be any where elles, yet be∣cause that if is wyll so were, he shoulde not ••o be suffered, he is therefore not at hys free libertye, but

a prisoner styll: so sith your free begger that you speake of, and the prince that you cal out of prieson to, though they be (which I weene verye fewe be) by some special wysdome, so tēperately disposed, y^t they haue not the will to be, but where they see they maye be suffered to be, yet sith y^t if they would haue that wil, they could not thā be where they would, they lacke theffecte of free libertie & b•• both twayne in prison to.

Vincent.

Well Uncle, if euery man vniuersally be by thys reason in priesō already after y^e very property of imprisōmēt, yet to be imprisoned in this speciall maner, which maner is onely comonlye called imprisonmēt, is a thing of great horror & feare, both for the straytnes of the ke∣ping, & the harde handling y^t many mē haue therin, of al which griefes & paines, & displeasures in this other general imprisonmēt y^t you peake of, we fele no thing at al, & therfore euery mā abhorreth the tone, & would be loth ••o come into i••: & no mā abhorreth y^e tother, for they fele no harme, nor find no faulte therin. Where∣fore vncle in faith though I can not finde answeres cōuenient wherwyth to auoyde your argumētes, yet to be plaine w^t you, & tell you y^e very trouth, my mind findeth not it selfe satisfied in thys pointe. But euer me thinketh y^• these thinges wherwith you rather cō∣uince & cōclude me, thā induce a credence & perswade me y^t euery man is in prison already•• be but sophistical fātasies. And y^t (except those y^t are comonly called pry∣soners•• other men are not in prieson at all.

Antony.

Wel fare thy heart good Cosin Uincent. There was in good faith no word y^t you spake since we talked of those matters, that halfe so well liked me as these that you speake nowe. For if you hadde assented in wordes, and in your minde departed vnperswaded,

than if the thing be true that I saye, yet hadde you loste the frute. And if it be peraduenture false, and my self deceiued therin, thā whyle I should wene that it liked you to, you should haue confermed me in my foly. For in good fayth Cosin, suche an olde foole am I, that thys thyng, in the perswading wherof vnto you, I had went I had quit me wel, and when I haue al done, appeareth to your mind but a trif••e and a sophisticall fantasy, my self haue so many yeres takē for so very substauncyall trueth, that as yet my mynde cannot geue me to thynke it any other, wherefore lest I playe as the frenche prieste played that had so long vsed to say Dominus with the seconde sillable long, at the last he thought it must nedes be so, and was ashamed to saye it short, to thentent that you may the better perceiue me, or I the better my selfe, we shall here betwene vs a litle more considre the thyng, and hardely spet well on your handes and take good holde, and geue it not ouer agaynste youre owne mynde, for than were we neuer the nere.

☞¶Vincent.

Naye by my trueth vncle, that entended I not, nor no thyng did yet since we beganne, and that maye you wel perceiue by some thynges, which without any greate cause, saue for the farther satisfaccion of myne own mynd I repeted and debated agayne.

Anthony.

That guise Cosin holde on hardely styll, for in this matter I purpose to geue ouer mi part, except I make your selfe perceiue, both that euery mā vniuersally is a ve∣ry prisoner in very prieson, plainly without ani sophisticaci∣on at al, & that there is also no prince liuing vpon earth, but he is in worse case prisoner by this generall imprisonment that I speake of, than is many a lewde simple wretche, by y^e speciall prisonment, that you speake of, and ouer thys that in this generall imprisonment that I speake of, mē are for the time that they be therin, so sore handled and so hardely,

and in such painful wyse, that mens hertes haue with reasō great cause as sore to abhorre this hard handlyng that is in this imprisonmēt, as the other that is in that.

¶Vincent.

By my trueth vncle these thinges would I faine see wel proued.

¶Anthony.

Tel me thā Cosin by your trueth, if there were a mā attainted of treasō or of felony, & after iudgement geuen of his death, & y^t it were determined that he should dye, onely the time of his exequcion delayed, tyl y^e kinges farther plea∣sure knowen, and he therupon deliuered vnto certayne ke∣pers and put vp in a sure place, oute of whiche he could not scape, were thys man a prisoner or no?

¶Vincent.

This man {quod} he? ye mary that he were in very dede, if euer any man were••

¶A••thony.

But nowe what if for the tyme that were meane betwene his attender and his exequcion, he were so fauou∣rably handled that he were suffred to doe what he woulde, as he was whyle he was abrode, and to haue the vse of hys landes and hys goodes, and his wyfe and his children, ly∣cence to be with hym, and his frendes leaue at liberty to re∣sort vnto hym, and his seruauntes not forbodden to abide aboute him: & adde yet therunto, that the place were a great castell royall with parkes and other pleasures therin, a very great circuite about, yea adde yet and ye will, y^t he were suf∣fered to goe and ryde also, both when he would and whither he would, only this one pointe alway prouided and foresene, that he should euer be surely sene to and safely kepte from scaping, so that toke he neuer so muche of his own minde in the meane while all other waies saue scaping, yet he wel knew that scape he could not, and that when he were called for to exequciō, and to death he should, now Cosin vincent what woulde you cal this man•• a prisoner, because he is kept for exequcion? or no prisoner beecause he is in the meane whyle so fauourably hādled, & suffered to doe al y^t he would saue scape, and I bydde you not here be hastie in your aun∣swere,

but aduise it well, that you graunte no suche thyng in haste, as you would after misselike by laysor, and thinke your selfe deceyued.

Vincent.

Nay by my trueth vncle, this thing nedeth no s••u∣dy in my mynde, but that for al this fauour shewed him, and all hys libertie lent hym yet being condemned to death, and beyng therfore kept, wi••h such sure watche layd vpon him y^t he cannot scape, he is all that while, a verye playne prisoner styll.

¶Antony.

In good fayth Cosin me thinketh you saye very true, but thē one thyng muste I yet desire you Cosin to tell me a litle farther. If there were an other laid in prisō for a fraye, and thorowe the Iailors displeasure were bolted and fettered, and layd in a low dongeon in the stockes, where he might hap to lie peraduenture a while, & abide in the meane season some pain, but no daunger of death at al, but that out again he should come wel inough: whither of these two prie∣soners stode in worse case, he that hath all this fauour, or he that is thus hardely handeled?

Vincent.

By our lady vncle, I wene the most parte of men if they should nedes choose, had le••er be suche prisoners in euery poynt as he that so sorely lyeth in the stockes, then in euery poynt such as he that at suche libertie walketh aboute the pa••ke.

Antony.

Considre thā Cosin whither this thing seme any sophestry to you, y^t I shal shew you nowe. For it shalbe such as semeth in good fayth substauncially true to me, and if it so happe that you thinke otherwyse, I will bee very glad to perceiue whiche of vs both is beg••iled. For it semeth to me Cosin first that euery mā coming into thys world here vpon earth as he is created by God, so cometh he hither by the prouidence of god: is this any sophestrye first or not?

¶Vincent.

Naye verely, this is very substanciall trueth.

¶Anto••y.

Now take I this also for veri trueth in my mind, that there cometh no man nor woman hither into thearth, bu•• y^t e••e euer they come into the world, out of the mothers wombe, god condemneth them vnto death by his own sen∣tence and iudgement, for the original sinne that they bring with them contracted in the corrupted stocke of our forefa∣ther Adam: is this thinke you Cosin, verely true or not?

Vincent.

This is vncle very true in dede.

Antony.

Thā semeth this true farther vnto me, y^t god hath put euery man here vpō thearth, vnder so sure and vnder so safe kepyng, y^t of al y^e whole people lyuing in this wide world, there is nei∣ther mā womā nor child, would they neuer so farre wander about and seke it, that possibly can fynde any way whereby thei may scape frō death: is this Cosin a fond imagined fā∣tasy, or is it very trueth in dede?

Vincent.

Naye this is no imaginacion vncle, but a thyng so clerely proued true, that no mā is so madde to say nay.

Antony.

Than nede I no more Cosin, for than is al y^t matter playn and open euident trueth, which I sayd I toke for trueth, which is more a litle yet now, then I tolde you before, when you toke my proofe yet but for a sophistical fantasy, & said y^t for al my reasoning that euery mā is a prisoner, yet you thought, y^t excepte those, whō the comē people cal prisoners, there is els no mā a very prisoner in dede, & now you graunt your selfe againe, for ve∣ry substauncial trueth, y^t euery mā is here (though he be the greatest king vpō earth) set here by y^e ordinaūce of god here in a place (be it neuer so large) a place I saye yet (& you say•• thesame) out of which no mā can scape but y^t therin is euery mā put vnder sure & safe keping to be redely fet forth, when god calleth for him, & that thā he shal surely die, & is not thā Cosin by your own graunting before, euery mā a very pri∣soner, whē he is put in a place to be kept, to be brought forth whē he would not, & himselfe wote not whither?

¶Vincent.

Yes in good fayth vncle, I cannot but wel per∣ceiue this to be so.

Anthony.

This were you wote wel true, although a man should be but takē by y^e arme, & in faier maner lead out of this world vnto his iudge∣mēt, but now while we wel know, y^t there is no king so great, but y^t al y^e while he walketh here, walke he neuer so lose, ride he with neuer so strong an army for his de∣fence, yet himselfe is very sure (though he seke in the meane season some other pastyme to put it oute of hys mind) yet is he very sure I say, y^• scape he cannot, & ve∣ry wel he knoweth, that he hath already sentence geuē vpon hym to dye, and that verely dye he shal, and that himselfe (though he hope vpon long respyte of his ex∣ecucion) yet can he not tell how soone. And therefore, but if he be a foole, he can neuer be without feare, that eyther on the morow, or on the self same day, the grise∣ly cruel hangman, death, whiche from his fyrst coming in hath euer houed aloofe, and looked toward him and euer lye in a wayte on hym, shal amydde among al his royaltie and al his mayn strength, neyther knele before hym, nor make him any reuerence, nor with anye good maner desyre him to come foorth, but rigorouslye and fiercely grype hym by the very brest, and make all hys bones rattle: and so by long and diuerse sore tormētes, stryke him starke dead in thys prieson, and then cause his bodye to bee cast into the grounde in a foule pytte, within some corner of the same, there to rotte and bee eaten with the wretched wormes of the earth, sending yet hys soule out farther vnto a more fearefull iudge∣ment, whereof at hys temporall death, hys successe is vncertayne, and therefore thoughe by Goddes grace not out of good hope: yet for al that, in y^e meane while in verye sore dreade and feare, and peraduenture in

peryl vneuitable of eternal fyre too. Me thinketh ther∣fore Cosin, that as I tolde you, thys kepyng of euery man in this wretched worlde for execucion of death, is a very playn imprisonment in dede, & y^e as I say such y^t y^e greatest kyng is in this prisō, in much worse case in all hys wealth, then many a manne is by the other im∣prysonmente, that is therein sore and hardelye hand∣led. For where some of those lye not there attaynted nor condemned to deathe, the greatest manne of thys worlde, and the moste wealthye in this vnyuersall pryson is layde in to be kepte vndoubtedly for deathe.

☞Vincent.

But yet vncle in that case, is the tother pry∣soner too: for he is as sure that he shall dye to perdye.

Antony.

That is verye trueth Cosin in dede, and wel obiected too: but then must you consider, that he is not in daunger of death, by reason of that prisō, into which he is put, peraduenture but for a light fray: but his daū∣ger of death is by the other imprisonment, by which he is prisoner in y^e great prisō of this whole earth, in which prisō al y^e prīces therof be prisoners as wel as he, if a mā condēned to death wer put vp in a large prisō, & while his execuciō wer respited, he wer for fightyng with hys felowes put vp in a straight place: part of y^e same he is in daūger o•• death in y^t straite prisō, but not by y^e being in y^t, for therin is he but for y^e fray: but his deadlye im∣prisonment was y^e other (y^e larger I say) into which he was put for death. So the prisoner y^t you speake of, is beside y^e narow prisō, a prisoner of y^e brode world, & al the princes therof, therin prisoners with him. And by y^e im∣prisonment, both thei & he in like daunger of death, not by y^e straite imprisonment, y^t is commonly called impri∣sonmēt, but by y^t imprisonmēt which (because of y^• large walke,) mē cal it libertie, and which prison you thought

therfore but a fantasye sophisticall, to proue it any pri∣son at al. But now may you me thinketh very playne∣ly perceiue that this whole earth is not onely for all y^e whole kynde of man a very playne prison in deede, but also that eueri man without excepcion euen those that are moste at theyr libertie therin and reckō themselfes great Lordes and possessioners of very greate pieces therof, and thereby waxe with wantonnes so forgeat∣full of theyr owne state, that they weene they stande in great welthe, doe stande for al that in dede, by the rea∣son of theyr imprisonmente in this large prison of the whole earth, in the selfe same condicion ••hat other doe ••tande, ••hiche in the narow prisons, whiche onelye be called prisons, and whiche onelye be reputed prie∣sons in the opinion of the common people stande in the most fearefull and in the most odious case, that is to wit, condemned already to death. And nowe Cosin, if this thing that I tel you, seme but a sophisticall fan∣tasye to your mynde, I would be glad to knowe what moue••h you so to thinke. For in good fayth as I haue told you twise, I am no wyser but that I verely wene, that y^• thing is ••hus of very plain trueth in very dede.

¶The .xx. Chapter.

Vincent.

IN good faith vncle, as for thus farforth, I not onelye can make with anye reason, no resys∣tence there agaynste, but also see very clerely that it can be none otherwyse but that euery manne is in thys worlde a verye prysoner, sythe wee bee all putte here into a sure holde to be kepte, tyll wee be putte to execucyon as folke alreadye condemned all to deathe. But yet Uncle that strayte kepynge, collerynge, boltynge, and stockynge, wyth lying in

strawe or on the colde ground, (which maner of harde handling is vsed in these speciall priesonmentes that onely be commonlye called by that name) must nedes make that impriesonment which only among the peo∣ple beareth that name, muche more odious and dreade∣ful than y^e general impriesonmēt wherwith we be eue∣ry man vniuersally priesoned at large, walkyng where we wil roūd about y^e wide world: In which brode prie∣sō, out of those narrow priesons, there is with y^e prieso∣ners no such hard handlyng vsed.

Antony.

I sayde, I trowe Cosyn, that I purposed to proue you farther yet, that in this generall prieson, the large prieson I meane of this whole world folke, be for the tyme that they be therin as sore handled and as hardly, and wrē∣ched and wrongen, and braked in suche paynful wyse, that our hertes (saue that we consider it not) haue with reason good and greate cause to grudge agaynst. And (as farreforth onely as pertayneth to the respecte of payne) as much horror to conceiue agaynst the harde handling that is in this prieson, as the tother that is in that

☞¶Vincent.

In dede vncle trueth it is that this you sayd you woulde proue.

☞Anthony.

Naye so muche saide I not Cosyn, but I sayde I woulde if I coulde, and if I could not, than woulde I therin geue ouer my parte. But y^t trust I Cosyn, I shall not nede to doe, the thing semeth me so playn. For Cosyn, though the prince and Kynges haue bothe Aungelles and deuylles that are Gaylors ouer hym, yet the chiefe Gaylor ouer thys whole brode prieson the worlde, is (as I take it) God. And that I suppose you will graunt me too.

¶Vincent.

That will I not vncle denye.

Antony.

If a man be Cosin cōmitted vnto prieson, for no cause but to bee kept, though there lye neuer so

greate charge vppon hym, yet his keper if he bee good and honeste, is neyther so cruell that wou••de payne the manne of malyce, nor so couetyse that woulde put hym to payne to make hym seeke hys frendes, and to paye for a pennye worthe of ease. Elles if the place be suche that he be sure to kepe hym safe otherwyse, or y^t he can geat suretye, for the recompence of more harme than he seeth he shoulde haue if he scaped: He wyl ne∣uer handle him in any such harde fashion•• as we most abhorre imprisonment for. But marye if the place be suche, as the keper can not otherwyse be sure, then is he compelled to kepe hym after the rate the straiter. And also if the prisoner be vnruly, and fall to fyghting with his felowes, or doe some other maner of shrewde turne, then vseth the keper to punish hym sundry wise, in some of such fashions as your selfe haue spoken of. So is it now Cosin, that god the chief Iailor as I say of thys brode pryeson the worlde, is neyther cruell nor coue••ise. And this pryeson is also so sure and so subtellye buylded, that albeit that it lyeth open vp∣pon euerye syde wythoute anye walle in the worlde: yet wandre we neuer so farre aboute therein, the waye to geat oute at, shall we neuer fynde, so that he nedeth neyther to coller vs, nor to sto••ke vs, for anye feare of scapyng awaye. And therefore (excepte he see some other cause than oure onelye kepyng for death) he let∣teth vs in the meane whyle (for as longe as he luste to respite vs) walke aboute in the pryeson, and dooe therein what we wyll: vsyng oure selfe in such wyse as he hath (by reason and reuelacyon from tyme to tyme tolde vs hys pleasure.) And hereof it com∣meth, loe, that by reason of thys fauou••e for a tyme,

wee waxe as I sayde so wanton, that we forgeat where wee be: wenyng that wee were Lordes at large, where as wee be in dede (if wee woulde well consyder it) euē sely poore wretches in prieson.

For of trueth our verye prieson, this earth is: and yet thereof we caute vs oute (partely by couenaūtes y^• we make among vs, and part by fraud, & part by violence too) dyuers partes diuersly to oure selfe, and chaunge the name therof, from the odious name of prison, and call it oure owne lande or our liuelode. Upon our pry∣son we buylde oure prison, we garnishe it with golde, and make it g••orious. In this pryson they bye and sel. In this prieson they brawle and chyde. In this pry∣son they runne together and fight. In this they dyce. In this they carde. In this they pype and reuill. In thys they synge and daunce. And in this prieson ma∣ny a man reputed right honest, letteth not for his plea∣sure in y^e darke prieuelye to playe y^e knaue. And thus while god our kyng, and our chief Iaylor too, suffreth vs and letteth vs alone: we wene oure self at libertie, and we abhorre the state of those whom we call prye∣soners, takyng our selues for no pryesoners at al. In whyche false perswasion of wealth, and forgeatfulnes of oure owne wretched s••ate (whiche is but a wande∣ryng aboute for a while, in this prieson of this world, tyll we be brought vnto the execucyon of ••eath) whyle wee forgeat with oure sollye bothe oure selfe and oure Gayle, and oure vnder Iaylours Aungels and deuils bothe. And oure chiefe Iailoure God too, GOD that forgeat••eth not vs, but seeth vs all the whyle well ynough, and beyng sore dyscontente to see so shreude rule kepte in the Iayle (:beesyde that he sendeth the hange manne deathe, to putte to execucyon, here and

there: some tymes by y^e thousādes at once) he handleth many of the remnaunte (whose execucion he forbea∣reth yet vnto a farther tyme) euen as hardly, and ••uni∣sheth them as sore, in ••hys common pryeson of the worlde, as there are anye handled in those specyal prye••ons, whyche for the hard handlyng, vsed you say therein, youre heart hath in such horror, and so sore ab∣horreth.

¶Vincent.

The remnaunt wyl I not gayne saye. For me ••hynke I see it so in dede, but that god oure chief Iay∣lor in this worlde vseth any suche priesonlye fashyon of punishment, that poynt I must nedes denie. For I neither see hym laye anye man in the stockes or strike fetters on his legges, and so muche as shutte hym vp in a chaumber eyther.

☞Anthony.

Is he no minstrell Cosin, ••hat playeth not on a harpe? maketh no manne no melodie, but he that playeth on a lute? He may be a minstrell and make me∣lodye you wote well, wyth some other instrument, some straunge fashioned peraduenture that neuer was sene before.

God oure chyefe Iayl••ure, as hymselfe is inuysyble, so vseth he in hys punyshemente inuysyble instru∣mentes: and therefore not of lyke fashyon•• as the to∣ther Iaylours dooe: but yet of lyke effect, and as pain∣full in felyng as those. For he laye••h one of his prieso∣ners with an hote f••uer, as euil at his ease, in a warme bedde as the tother Iaylour layeth hys vpon the cold grounde. He wryngeth hym by the browes with a my∣greme he collereth them by the necke with a quynsy: bolteth them by the armes with a palsey, that they can not lyfte theyr handes to theyr heades: he manacleth

theyr handes, with the goute in their fingers: he wrin∣geth thē by the legges with a crampe in their shinnes•• he byndeth them to the bedde borde, wyth the c••icke in the backe: and lyeth on there a longe and as vna∣ble to ryfe•• as though he laye by the fee••e fa••te in the stockes.

Some pryesoner of another Gayle, syngeth, daunceth in hys two fetters, and feareth not his feete for stum∣blyng at a stone, whyle goddes priesoner that hath but hys one foote fettered with the goute, lyeth gronynge on a couche, and quaketh and cryeth oute, if he feare there woulde fall on his foote no more but a cushion. And therefore Cosin as I sayde, if we consider it wel, we shal fynd this general prieson of this whole earth•• a place in whyche the pryesoners be as sore handled as thei be in y^e other. And euen in the other some make as merye too, as there dooe some in this, that are ve∣rye merye at large oute of that. And surelye, lyke as wee wene oure selfe oute of pryeson nowe: so if there were some folke borne and broughte vp in a prieson, that neuer came on the walle, or loked out of the dore, nor neuer heard of other worlde abrode, but ••aue some for shrewde turnes done among them selfe, lo••ked vp in s••rayter rowme, and heard them ••nelye called prye••oners that were so serued, and them selfe euer called free folke at large: the lyke opinion would they haue there of them selfe than, that we haue here of our selfe nowe. And when wee take oure selfe for other than pryesoners nowe, as verely be we deceiued now•• as tho••e pri••soners shoulde there be than.

Vincent.

I can not Uncle in good fayth saye naye, but that you haue perfourmed al that you haue promi∣sed: but yet sith that for al this there appeareth no more

but that as they be priesoners, so be we too: and that as some of them be sore handled so be some of vs too: syth we wote well for all thys, that when wee come to those pryesons, we shall not fayle to be in a straiter pri∣son then wee be nowe: and to haue a doore shutte vp∣pon vs, where we haue none shutte on vs nowe: thys shall we be sure of at the leaste wyse, if there come no worse. And ••hen may there come worse you wote well it commeth there so commonlye, wherefore for al thys, it is yet litle meruaile though mennes heartes grudge muche there against.

¶Anthony.

Surely Co••yn in thys you saye very well, howbeit somewhat had your woordes touched me the nearer, if I had sayde that imprisonment were no dys∣pleasure at al. But the thyng that I say Cosin, for oure comforte therein is, that oure fantasye frameth vs a false opinion by whiche we deceiue our selfe, and take it for sorer then it is, and that do we by the reason that we take oure selfe before for more free than we be, and prisonmēt for a straunger thing to vs thē it is in dede. And thus farreforth as I said, haue I proued trueth in very dede: but now the incōmodities that you repeate agayne (••hose I saye that are proper to themprisonmēt of theyr own nature, that is to wit, to haue lesse roum•• to walke in, and to haue the dore ••hutte vpon vs, these are me thynke so verye slender and slyghte, that in so g••eate a cause as to suffer for Goddes sake, wee myghte be sore ashamed, so muche as once to thynke vpon them.

Manye a good manne there is you wote well•• whiche wythoute force at all or anye necessitye, wherefore he so•• ••houlde dooe, suffereth these two thynges wyl∣linglye

o•• his owne choyse with muche other hardines more.

Holye Monckes I meane of the Cherterhouse order, suche as neuer passe theyr celles, but onelye to the Churche sette faste by theyr celles, and thence to theyr celles agayne, and Sayncte Brygettes ordre, and Sayncte Claryce muche lyke, and in a maner all close relygyouse houses, and yet Ancres and An••ressis moste specyall. All whose whole roume is lesse than a metelye large chamber: and yet are they there as well contente manye longe yeares together, as are other menne, and better too, that walke about the worlde.

And therefore you maye see wyth the lothenesse of lesse rowme and the doore shutte vppon vs, whyle so many folke are so well contente therewith, and wil for goddes loue lyue so to choose, is but horror enhaū∣ced of our own fantasie.

And in dede I wiste a woman once that came into a pryeson to vysite of her charitye a poore pryesoner there, whome she founde in a chaumber (to saye the trouthe) meetelye fayre, and at the leastwyse it was stronge ynoughe: but wyth the mattes of strawe the pryesoner hadde made it so warme, both vnder the foote, and rounde aboute the walles, that in these thynges for the kepynge of hys healthe, she was on hys beehalfe gladde and verye well coum∣forted: but amonge manye other dyspleasures, that for hys sake she was sorye for: once she lamented muche in her mynde, that she shoulde haue the cham∣ber doore shutte vppon hym by nyghte, made faste

by the Tayloure, that shoulde shutte hym in: for by my trou••he quod she, if the doore shoulde be shutte v∣pon me, I would weene it would stoppe vp my breath. At that worde of hers•• the pryeson••r la••ghed in hys mynde, but he durste not laughe a loude, nor saye nothynge to her, for some what in dede he stoode in awe of her, and hadde hys fyndynge there muche parte of her Charytye, for almose, but he coulde not but laughe inwardelye, whyle he wyste well ynoughe that she vsed on the insyde to shutte euerye nyghte full surelye her owne chaumber to her, bo••he doore and wyndowes too, and vsed not to open them, of all the longe nyghte.

And what diff••rence then as to the stoppinge of the breathe, whyther they were shutte vp within or wyth∣oute. And so surelye Cosin these two thinges that you speake of, are neyther nother of so greate weyghte, that in Christes cause oughte to moue a Chrystyan manne, and the tone of the twayne is so v••rye a chyldy she fantasye, that in a matter almoste of three Chyppes: but if it were in chaunce of fyre, neyther shoulde moue anye manne as muche as thynke thereof.

As for those other accidentes of hard handling therein, so madde am I not, to saye they bee no gryefe, but I saye that oure feare maye yma∣gyne them, muche grea••er griefe than they be.

And I saye that suche as they bee, many a manne endureth them, yea, and manye a woman too, that after fare full well. And than woulde I wyt what determinacion we take, whyther for oure

Sauiours sake to suffer some payne in oure bodyes (sythe he suffered in hys blessed bodye so greate paine for vs) or elles to geue hym warning and be at a point rather v••terlye to forsake hym, than suffer any payne at al. He that commeth in thys mynde vnto thys lat∣ter poynte (from whyche kynde of vnkindenesse, God keepe euerye manne, coumforte he none needeth, for he wyll flye the neede: and counsayle I feare a∣vayleth hym lytle, yf grace bee so farre gone from hym.

But on the tother syde, yf rather than forsake oure Sauyoure wee determyne oure selfe to suffer anye payne at all: I can not than see, that the feare of harde handlyng shoulde anye thynge ••••ycke wyth vs, and make vs so to shrynke, as wee rather woulde for∣sake hys fayth, than to suffer for his sake so muche as impryesonmente, sythe the handlyng is neyther such in pryeson, but that many in many yeares, and ma∣nye weomen to leue therewyth, and sustayne it, and afterwarde yet fare full well. And yet that it maye well fortune that beesyde the verye bare ympryeson∣mente, there shall happen vs no harde handelynge at all, nor that same happelye but for a shorte whyle neyther, and yet be••yde al thys peraduenture not at all. And specyallye sythe whyche of all these wayes shall bee taken wyth vs, lyeth all in hys wyll: for whome we bee contente to take it, and whyche for that mynde of ours fauoureth vs, and wyll suffer no manne to putte more payne vnto vs, than he wel wot∣teth we shall be wel able to beare. For he wyl geue the strength ••here to hym selfe as you haue heard hys pro∣myse alreadye by the mouthe of Saincte Paule. Fidelis

deus qui non patiturvos tentari supra id quod potestis ferre fed dat etiam ••um t••∣tacione prouentum. God is faythful, which suffereth you not to be tempted aboue that you maye beare, but geueth also with the temptacion a waye out. But nowe if we haue not lost our fayth already before we come to for∣sake it for feare: we knowe very wel by our fayth•• that by the forsaking of our faythe, we fall into the state to be cast into the prieson of hell, and that can we not tell how soone: but as it may be that God wil suffre vs to liue a while here vpon earth, so may it be that he will throwe vs into the dongeon beneath, before the tyme that the Turke shall once aske vs the question. And therefore if we feare impriesonmentes so sore, we bee muche more than madde, if we feare not most the more sore: for out of that prieson shall no man neuer geat. And in this other shall no man abyde but a whyle. In prieson was Ioseph, whyle his brethren were at large, and yet after were his brethren fayne to seeke vpon him for bread. In prieson was Daniel, and the wilde Lyons aboute hym: and yet euen there God kepte him harmelesse, and brought hym safe out agayne. If we thinke that he wil not doe the lykewyse for vs, let vs not doubte but he will doe for vs, eyther the lyke, or better. For better maye he dooe for vs, if he suffre vs there to dye. Sainct Iohn the Baptist was you wote well in prieson, whyle Herode and Herodias sate full mery at the feaste, and the daughter of Herodias dely∣ted them with her daunsing, tyl with her daunsyng she daunsed of Sainct Iohns head. And nowe sitteth he with great feast in heauen at Gods boarde, while He∣rode and Herodias full heauely sit in hel burning both twayne. And to make them sporte withal the deuil with the damosell daunse in the fyre afore thē. Finally Co∣syn

to finishe this piece with, oure Sauioure was him selfe taken prisoner for oure sake, and prisoner was he caryed, and prisoner was he kepte, and prisoner was he brought foorth before Annas. And prisoner from An∣nas caryed vnto Caiphas. Than prisoner was he ca∣ryed from Caiphas vnto Pilate: and prisoner was he sente from Pilate to kyng Herode: prisoner from He∣rode vnto Pilate agayne. And so kepte as prisoner to the ende of his passion. The time of his imprisonment I graunt wel was not long, but as for hard handling (which our hertes most abhorre) he had asmuch in that short whyle as many mē amōg thē al in much longer time. And surely than, if we consider of what estate he was, and therewith that he was prisoner in suche wyse for our sake, we shall I trowe (but yf we be worse then wretched beastes (neuer so shamefully play the vnkind cowardes, as for feare of imprisonmente sinnefully to forsake hym, nor so foolishe neyther, as by forsakynge of hym, to geue hym the occasion againe to forsake vs, and wyth the auoydyng of an easyer prison, fall into a worse. And in stede of a prison that cānot kepe vs lōg, fal into that prison, oute of whiche we can neuer come, where the shorte prisonment would winne vs euerlas∣ting libertie.

The .xxi. Chapter. The feare of shameful and paynefull death.

Vincent.

FOrsothe vncle (oure Lorde rewarde you therefore) yf wee feared not farther beeside ymprisonmente, that terryble dart of shame∣full and paynefull deathe: as for ympryson∣mente

I woulde verelye trust, that remembring those thynges whiche I haue here heard of you, rather than I shoulde forsake the fayth of our Sauiour, I would wyth helpe of grace neuer shrynke thereat. But nowe are we come vncle with muche woorke at the laste, vn∣to the laste and vttermoste poynte, of the dreade that maketh, incursum & demonium meridianum. This incursyon of thys mydde daye deuyll, thys open inuasyon of the Turke, and his persecucion agaynste the fayth, seme so terrible vnto mennes myndes, that althoughe the respecte of GOD vanquisheth all the remnaunte of the troubles that we haue hytherto perused as losse of goodes, landes and libertie, yet when we remember the terroure of shamefull and paynefull deathe, that poynte so sodaynelye putteth vs in obliuyon of all that shoulde be oure coumforte, that we fele (all me••ne I feare me for the moste parte) the feruouce of oure faith waxe so colde, and oure heartes so fainte, that wee fynde oure selfe at the poynte to fall euen there fro for feare.

¶Anthony.

To this I saye not naye Cosin, but that in dede in this poynte is y^e sore pynche. And yet you se for al this, that euen thys poynt too, taketh encrease or mi∣nishmēt of drede after the difference of the affeccions that are before fixed and rooted in the mynde so farre forth that you see some man set so muche by his world∣lye substaunce, that he lesse feareth the losse of his life, than the losse of landes: yea some manne shall you see that abyde••h d••adlye tormente, and suche as some other hadde rather dye then endure, rather than he woulde brynge oute the moneye that he hathe hydde. And I doubte not but you haue hearde of manye by ryght antētiue stories, that (some for one cause, some for

other) haue not letted wyllinglye to suffre deathe, di∣uerse in diuerse kindes: and some both with dyspight∣ful rebuke and painful tormente too. And therfore as I say, we may see that the affeccion of the mynde to∣warde the encrease or decrease of the dreade, maketh muche of the matter. Now are the affeccions of mens myndes imprinted by diuerse meanes: One waye, by the bodely sences moued by suche thinges pleasant or dyspleasant, as are outwardly thorow sencible world∣ly thinges offered and abiected vnto them. And thys maner of receyuyng the impressyon of affeccions, is common vnto menne and beastes. Another maner of receiuing affeccions, is by the meane of reason, which•• both ordinately tempereth those affeccions, that the bodely .v. wittes imprint and also dysposeth a man ma∣ny tymes to some spiritual vertues, very contrarye to those affeccions that are fleshly and sēsual. And those reasonable disposicions been affeccions spirituall and proper to the nature of man, and aboue the nature of beastes. Now as our gostly enemy the deuil enforceth hymselfe to make vs leane to the sensuall affeccions and beastly: so doth almightye God of hys goodnes by hys holye spirite inspire vs good mocions, with ayde and helpe of hys grace towarde the tother affeccions spirituall, and by soondrye meanes instructeth oure reason to leane vnto them, and not onelye to receyue them as engendred and planted in our soule, but also in suche wyse water them with wyse aduertisement of godly counsayle and continuall prayer, that they maye be habitually radycate, & surely take depe roote there∣in, and after as the tone kynde of affeccion or the to∣ther beareth the strength in our heart, so be we stron∣ger or febler agaynst the terror of death in thys cause.

And therefore will we Cosin, assaye to consider what thinges there are for which we haue cause in reason•• to master that affeccion fearefull and sensuall•• and thoughe we cannot cleane auoide it and put it away•• yet in such wyse to bridle it at the leaste•• that it ••un•••• not out so farre, like ••n head stronge horse•• that spite of oure ••eeth it carye vs out vnto the deuill. Lette vs therfore now consider and waie wel thys thyng, that we dreade ••o sore, that is to witte, shamefull and painfull death.

¶The .xxii. Chapter. Of death considered by himselfe alone as a bare leauing of this lyfe onely.

ANd firste I perceyue well by these two thinges, that you ioyne vnto death, that is to witte, shameful and painful. You would esteme death so much the lesse if he should come alone without eyther shame or pain.

Vincent.

Without doubte vncle, a greate deale the lesse, but yet though he should come without thē ••oth by hymselfe, whatsoeuer I would, I wete wel many a man would be for all that, very loth to dye.

Antony.

That I beleue wel Cosin, and the more pitie it is, for that affeccion happeth in very fewe, but that eyther the cause is lacke of faith•• lacke of hope, or fi∣nally lacke of witte. They that beleue not the lyfe to come after thys, and wēne themselfe here in welth are loth to leaue this, for than they thynke they lese all, and therof cometh the manifold foolishe vnfaith∣full wordes, which are•• so rise in ouer many mennes mouthes this world we know and the other we know not, and that some say in sporte, and thinke•• in earnest, the deuil is not so blacke as he is painted, and let him be as blacke as he wil, he is no blacker than a crowe,

with many suche other foolishe fantasies of thesame sort: some that beleue wel inough, yet thorow the leude∣nes of liuing fal out of good hope of saluaciō, and thā though they be loth to dye, I very litle meruayle how∣beit some that purpose to mend, and would fayne haue some tyme left the lenger to bestowe some what bet∣ter, maye peraduenture be loth to die also by & by: and that maner lothenesse (albeit a very good wyl gladlye to die, and to be with god) were in mi mind so thankful that it were wel able to purchase as ful remissiō both of sinne and pain, as peraduenture he were like, if he liued to purchase in many yeres penaunce, yet will I not say, but that suche kinde of lothenes to die, may be before god alowable. Some are there also, y^t are loth to die, that are yet very glad to dye, and long for to be dead.

¶Vincent.

That were vncle a very straunge case

Antony.

The case I feare me Cosin falleth not oftē, but yet sometyme it doeth, as where there is any man of that good minde that. S. Paul was, which for the longing that he had to be with god, woulde fayne haue been dead, but for the profit of other folke, was content to liue here in payn, & differre and forbeare for y^e while his inestimable blisse in heauen. Cupio dissolui & esse cum chris∣to bonum autem mihi manere propter vos but of all these kyndes of folkes Cosin, that are loth to dye, (except the first kind onely that lacketh fayth) there is I suppose none, but that except the feare of shame, or sharpe paine ioyned vnto death, shoulde be the let, woulde els for the bare respect of death alone, let to departe hence with good wil in this case of fayth, well witting by his fayth, that his death taken for y^e fayth, shoulde clense him cleane of al his sinnes, and sende hym straight to heauen. And

some of those, (namely the laste kynde) are suche, that shame and payn both ioyned vnto death, were vnlike∣ly to make them loth death or feare death so sore, but that they woulde suffre death in thys case wi••h good wyll, sith they knowe well that the refusing of y^e fayth for any cause in thys worlde (were the cause neuer so good in sighte) shoulde yet seuer them from god: wi••h whō (saue for other folkes profit) they so faine would be. And charitie can it not b•• (for the profite of the whole worlde), deadly to displease him that made it. Some are there I saye also, that are loth to dye, for lacke of witte, whiche albeit that they bel••ue the worlde that is to come, and hope also to come thyther yet they loue so mu••he the wealth of thys worlde, and suche thynges as delight them therin, that they would fayne kepe them as long as euer they mighte, euen with tooth and nayle.

And when they maye be suffered in no wyse to kepe it no lenger•• but that death taketh them ••heref••o: than if it maye be no better, they will agree to be (as soone as they be hence) hawsed vp into heauen, and bee with GOD by and by. These folke & as verye nedyote fooles, as he that had kepte from hys chyldehodde a bagge full of chery s••ones, and cas••e suche a fantasye thereto, that he woulde not goe from it, for a bygger bagge fylled full of golde. These folkes fare Cosin•• as Esope telle••h in a fable that the snayle did: for when Iupiter (whom the Poetes fayne for the greate God) inuited al the poore wormes of thea••th vnto a greate solemne feaste, that it pleased hym (I haue forgotten vpon what occasion) vpon a tyme to prepare for them, the snaile kept her at home, & woulde not come therat.

And when Iupiter asked her after wher••ore she came not at his feast, where he sayd she shoulde haue bene welcome and haue faren well, and should haue seen a goodly palace, and been delighted with many goodly pleasures: she aunswered him, that she lo••ed no place so wel as her own house. With whiche aunswere I••∣piter waxed so angry, that he said, sith ••he loueth her house so wel, she should neuer after goe from home, but shoulde alwaye beare her house vpon her backe wheresoeuer she wen••e. And so hath she done euer since as they saye, and at the leastwise I wote wel she doe••h so nowe, and hath done as long time as I can remembre.

Vincent.

Forsoth vncle I would wene the tale were not all fayned? For I thynke verely that so muche of your tale is true.

Antony.

Esope meyn••e by that fained fable to touche ••he foly of suche folke, as so set their fantasye vpon some ••male simple pleasure, that they cannot fynde in their hear••es to forbeare it, neyther for the pleasure of a better man, nor for the gaining of a better thyng: by which their fond frowarde fashion, they sometime fal in great indignacion, and take thereby no litle harme. And surely such Christen folke, as by their foolishe a••∣fe••ciō, which they haue set like y^• snaile vpō their own house here this earth cannot for y^• lothenes of leuing that house find in their heart with their good wyll, to goe to y^e great feast y^t god prepareth in heauen, & of his goodnes so gentely calleth thē to. Be like I feare me (but if they mende that mind in tyme) to be serued as the snayle was, and yet much worse to, for they be like to haue their house here, y^• earth, bounde fast vpō thei•• ba••kes for euer, and not walke therewith where they

will as the snaile ••••epeth about with hers, but lye fast bound in the middes with the foule fyer of hel about them: for into this foly they bryng themselfe by theyr own fault, as the dro••ken man bryngeth him selfe in∣••o dronkennesse wherby the euyll that he doth in hys dronkennesse is not forgeuen hym for hys foly, but to hys payne imputed to his faulte.

Vincent.

Sur••ly vncle this semeth not vnlikely, and by their faulte they fall to such foly in dede. And yet if this be foly in dede, there are than some folke fooles that wene them selfe right wyse.

Anthony.

That wene themselfe wyse? mary I neuer sawe foole yet•• that thought himselfe other than wise. For as it is, one sparke of sobernes lefte in a dronken head, whē he perceyueth hymself dronke, and geatteth him fayre to bed: so if a foole perceyue himselfe a foole, that point is no foly but a litle sparke of wit. But now Cosin, as for those kynde of fooles, sith they be loth to dye for the loue that they beare to their worldly fanta∣syes, whiche they shoulde by their death leaue b••hind them and forsake: thei that would for that cause rather forsake the faith than die, would ra••her forsake it than sel their worldly goodes, though there were offered thē no perel of death at al. And thā as touching those that are of that mind, we haue you wote well, sayd as much as your self thought sufficient this after none here be∣fore.

Vincent.

Ue••ely that is vncle very true, & now haue you rehearsed as farre as I can remembre, al y^e other kindes of them that would be lo••h to die for any other respect than the greuous qualities of shame and pain ioyned vnto death: and of all those kyndes excepte the kinde of infidelitie whom no comforte can helpe, but coūsayle onely to thatteining of faith, which faith must

be to the receyuing of comforte presupposed and had ready before, as you shewed in the beginning of our communicaciō the first day that we talked of the mat∣ter. But els I say, except that one kynd, there is none of the remnaunt of those that were before vntouched which were lykely to forsake theyr fayth, in this perse∣cucion for the feare and dreade of ••eath, saue for those greuous qualities (pain I meane and shame) that thei see well would come therewith. And therfore vncle I pray you geue vs some comforte against those twain. For in good faith, if death should come without them in such a case as this is, wherby the lesing of this life, we should fynde a farre better myne owne reason geueth ••e: ••hat saue for the other griefes going before, the ••haunge, there would no man y^t witte hath, any thing sticke at al.

Antony.

Yes peraduenture sodaynly be∣fore they gather their wittes vnto them and therwith well way the matter, but they Cosin that wyl considre the matter wel reason grounded vpō the foundaciō of fayth, shal shewe them very greate sub••tancial causes for which the dreade of those greuous qualities that they see shal come with death (shame I meane & paine also) shal not so sore abashe them as sinfully to dryue them therfro: for the proofe wherof let vs first begin at the considera••ion of the shame.

The .xxiii. Chapter. Of the shame that i•• ioyned vvith the death in the persecucion for the fayth,

HOwe can any faythful wyse man d••eade that death so sore for any respect of shame, whā his reason & hys fayth together may shortly make hym p••••c••••ue, y^t there is therin no pe••e of very shame

at al. For how can that death be shameful that is glori∣ous? or how can it be but glorious to dye for the fayth of Christ (if we dye both for the fayth and in the fayth ioyned with hope and charitie) while the Scripture ••o playnely ••ayeth: pre••iosa in conspectu domini mors sanctorū eiu•• precious is in y^e sight of god, the death of hys saintes•• ••ow if the death of his Saintes be glorious in y^e sight of god, it can n••uer be sham••full in verye d••de, howe shamefull so euer it seme here in the sighte of men for here we maye see and be sure that not at the death of Saint Stephin onely (to whom it lyked him to shew himself with the heauen open ouer his head) but at the death also of euery man that so dieth for the faith, god with hys heauenly company, beholdeth his whole pas∣sion & verely loketh on. Now if it so were Cosin, that you shoulde be brought thorowe the brode hie strete of a greate long Citie and that all a long the waye that you were goyng there w••re on the tone syde of y^e way a rabble of ragged beggers, and mad men that woulde dispise you, & disprayse you with al y^e shameful names that they could cal you, and al the villanous woordes that they could saye to you: and that there were than al a long the o••her syde of thesame strete, where you should come by a goodly company standyng in a fayre raunge a rowe, of wyse and worshipful folke, allowing you & cōmending you mo than .xv. times, as many as that rabble ragged beggars and rayling madde men are. Would you let your way by your wil, wening that you wente vnto your shame for the shamefull iestyng and rayling of those madde foolishe wretches, or holde on your way with a good chere and a glad heart•• thyn∣kyng youre selfe muche honoured by the laude and approbacion of that other honorable sort.

Vincent.

Naye by my trueth vncle, there is no doubt, but I woulde muche regarde the commendacion of those commendable folke, and not regarde of a rishe y^• rai∣ling of all these ribauldes.

¶Anthony.

Than Cosin can there no mā that hath faith, accompte hymselfe shamed here by any maner death that he suffereth for the fayth of Christe, whyle howe vile and howe shamefull soeuer it seme in the syghte here of a fewe worldly wretches, it is alowed & appro∣ued for very precious and honorable in the sighte of god, and all the glorious company of heauen, which as perfectly stande and behold it as these peuishe people doe, & are in nomber moe than an hundred to one: and of that hundred euery one an hundreth tymes more to be regarded and estemed than of the tother, and hun∣dred suche whole rabbles. And now if a man would be so madde as for feare of y^e rebuke that he should haue of such rebuke ful beastes, he would be ashamed to cō∣fesse the fayth of Chri••t, than with fleing from a sha∣dowe of shame he should fall into a very shame and a deadly painfull shame in dede: for than hath our Sa∣uiour made a sure promise that he wil shewe himselfe ashamed of that man before the father of heauen & al his holy angels, saying in y^e .ix. Chapter of. S. Luke. Qui me erubuerit & meo sermones huncfilius homini•• erubesset quum venerit i•• maiestate sua & patris & sanctorum angelo••um. He that is ashamed of me and my wordes, of him shal the sonne of man be ashamed when he shall come in the maiestie of hym∣selfe and of his father, and of the holy Aungels. And what maner a shamefull shame shall that be than, if a mannes chekes glowe some tyme for shame in thys worlde? they will fall on fyer for shame when Christe shall shewe hymselfe ashamed of them there, to suffer

the thing for Christes faith that we worldly wretched fooles wene were villanie and shame, the blessed A∣postles reckened for greate glory. For they when they were with dispite and shame scourged, and therupon cōmaunded to speake no more of the name of Christ, wente their waye fro the counsayle, ioyfull and glad that god had vouchesafed to doe them the worship to suffre shamefull dispite for the name of Iesu, and so proude were they of that shame, and vilanous payne put vnto them, that for all the forbidding of that great coūsaile assembled, thei ceased not eueri day to preache out the name of Iesu stil, not in the temple onely oute of which they were fet and whipped for thesame before, but also to double it with, went preachyng that name about from house to house to. I would, sith we regard so greatly thestimacion of worldly folkes, we woulde among many noughtie thinges that they vse, regarde also some such as are good: for it is a maner among thē in many places, y^t some by handy crafte, some by mar∣chandise, some by other kinde of liuyng•• aryse & come forward in y^e world, & cōmonly folke are inowe set forth to conuenient masters vnder whō they be brought vp and growe: but whensoeuer nowe they fynd a seruaūt suche as disdaineth to doe suche thynges as he that is his master did while he was seruaunte hymselfe, that seruaunt euery mā accompteth for a proude vnthrifte, neuer like to come to good proofe. Let vs so marke & consider this, and waye well therwithal, that oure ma∣ster Christe, not the master onely, but the maker of all this whole worlde, was not so proude to disdayne for oure sakes the moste villanous and moste shamefull death after the worldly accompte that then was vsed 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the worlde, and the moste dispightefull mockyng

therwith ioyned to most greuous payn, as crownyng hym with sharpe thorne, that the bloud ranne downe about his face: than they gaue hym a rede in his hand for a septre and kneled downe to hym, and saluted hym lyke a king in scorne, and bet then the rede vpon the sharpe thornes about hys holy head, now saith our sa∣uiour that the disciple or y^e seruaunt is not aboue hys master, and therfore sith our master endured so many kyndes of paynfull shame•• very proude beastes maye we w••ll thynke our selfe if we disdayne to doe as our master did. And wheras he thorow shame ascended in to glory, we would be so madde that we rather wil fall into euerlastyng shame, both before heauen and hell, than for feare of a short worldly shame to folowe him ••nto euerlasting glory.

¶The .xxiiii. Chapter. Of paynful death to be suffred in the Turkes persecucion ••or the fayth.

Vincent.

IN good fayth vncle as for the shame, ye shall nede to take no more payn, for I suppose sure∣ly that any man that hath reason in his head shall holde hymselfe satisfied with this: but of trueth vncle, all the pinche is in the payn: For as for shame, I perceiue wel now a man maye with wisdom so master it, that it shall no thyng moue hym at all, so farre forth that it is almost in euery countrey become a comen prouerbe, that shame is as it is taken but by god vncle, all the wysdome in thys worlde can neuer ••o master payne but that payne wyll be paynfull spite of all the witte in thys worlde.

Antony.

Trouth is it Cosin that no man can with al

the reason he hath in suche wyse chaunge the nature of pain, that in the hauing of payn, he fele it not, for but if it ••e felt, it is perdy no payne, and that is the natural cause Cosin, for which a man may haue hys legge stri∣ken of by the knee and greue him not, if his head be of but halfe an houre before: But reasō may make a rea∣sonable man (though he would not bee so foolyshe as causeles to fall therin) yet vpon good causes, eyther of gayning some kindes of greate profyt, or auoydyng some kynde of great losse, or eschewing therby the suf∣fring of farre great payn, not to shrynke therfro, and refuse it to his more hurt and harme, but for hys farre greater aduauntage & commoditie content and glad to sustai••e it, and this doeth reason alone in many ca∣sis where it hath much lesse helpe to take hold of thē it hath in this matter of faith. For wel you wote, to take a sowre and a bitter pocion is great grief and displea∣sure, and to be launced and to haue ••he flesh cut is no litle payn: now whē such thinges shalbe ministred vn∣to a childe, or to ••ome childishe man either, they wil by theyr own willes rather let theyr sicknes or their sore growe on to theyr more griefe, til it be come incurable than abyde the payn of the curing in tyme, and that for faynt heart ioyned with lacke of discrecion. But a man that hath more wysdome though he would with∣oute cause, no more abyde the ••ayne wyllyngly than woulde the other, yet ••ith reason sheweth hym what good he shall haue by the sufferyng and what harme by the refusing, this maketh him wel cōtent, and glad also to take it. Now thē if reasō alone, be sufficient to moue a mā to take pain for the gaining of some world∣ly rest or pleasure, and for y^e auoiding of another pain, thoughe perad••enture more, yet i••durable but for a

short season. Why should not reason grounded vpon the sure foundacion of fayth, and holpen also forward with ayde of Goddes grace (as it is euer ready vn∣doubtedly whē folke for a good mynde in Gods name cōmen together theron our Sauiour saying himself: Vbi sunt duo vel tres congregati in nomine meo, ibi & ego sum in medio-eorum•• where there are two or three gathered together in my name there am I also euē in y^e very middes of them:) why should not thā reasō I say, thus forthered w^t faith & grace, be much more able to engendre in vs first such an affeccion, and after by long and depe meditacion thereof, so to cōtinue y^t affecciō, y^t it shall turne into an habitual fast & depe rooted purpose of paciēt suffering the painful death of thys body here in earth for y^t gay∣ning of euerlasting welthy life in heauē, and auoiding of euerlasting painfull death in hell.

Vincent.

By my trueth vncle, word••s can I none fynde y^t should haue any reason with thē (fayth al way presupposed as you protested in the beginning for a groūde) wordes I say can I none find wherwith I might reasonably coun∣terpleade this that you haue said here alreadi. But yet I remēber y^t fable y^e E••ope telleth of a great olde hart that had fled frō a litle bitche whiche had made sute af∣ter hym, and chased hym ••o long that she had lost him and as he hoped m••re thā half geuē him ouer, by occa∣siō wherof hauing thā some time to talke & meting w^t an other of his felowes, he fel in deliberaciō with him what were best for him to doe, whith••r to rūne on stil & fly farther frō her, or turne again & fight w^t her: wher∣unto the other hart aduised him to flye no farther, lest y^t bitche might hap to find him agayn at such time as he should w^t y^e labour of hys farther flying be falen out of breath & therby al out of ••••rēgth to, & so shoulde he be killed lying where he coulde not stire him, where

as if he would turne and fight, he were in ••o ••erell at al. For the mā with whom she hunteth, is more ••hen a mile behind her, and she is but a litle body scant halfe so m••che as thou, and thy hornes may thruste her tho∣rowe before she c••n touche thy fleshe, be ••ore then .x•• tymes her to the length: nowe but by my truth {quod} the other harte•• I like your coūsaile wel, & me thinke y^t the thing is eu••n ••othely suche as you say: but I feare me when I here once that ••rchin bitche barke, I shal ••al to my fe••te and forgeat altogether. But yet and you wil goe backe with me, thā me thinke, we shalbe strōg inough against that one bitche, betwene vs both, wher vnto the other hart agreed, & so they both appointed them thereupon. Here it must be knowen of some mā that can skill of hunting, whither that we mistake not ••ure tearmes, for than are we vtterly shamed ye wote well, and I am so conning that I cannot tell whi∣ther among them, a bitche be a bitche or no, bat as I remember she is no bitche, but •• brach••, this is an high pointe in a lowe house: beware of barkyng, for there lacketh an other hun••ing terme, at a foxe it is called crying, I wote not what they call it at an hart, but it shal make no matter of a farre. But euē as they were about to buske thē forwarde to it, the bitche had foūd the fote agayn, & on she came yerning towarde y^e place, whom as soone as the hartes heard•• they to goe both twayn a pace: and in good fayth vncle euen so I feare me•• it woulde fare by my selfe and many other too, which though we thinke it reason that you saye, and in our myndes agree that we should doe as you say, yea & doe paraduenture thinke also that we would in dede doe as you saye: yet as soone as we should once he•••• these hell houndes, these Turkes come yelpyng and

bauling vpon vs oure heartes shoulde soone fall as cleane from vs, as those other hartes flye from the houndes.

¶Antony.

Cosin, in those dayes ••hat Esope speaketh of, thoughe those hartes and other brute beastes mo, had (if he saye soth) the power to speake and talke, and in their talking, power to talke reason to: yet to folow reason, and rule themselfe thereby, thereto had they neuer geuē them the power. And in good faith Cosin, as for suche thynges as pertayne toward the conduc∣ting of reasonable men to saluaciō, I thinke withoute helpe of grace, mēs reasoning shal doe litle more. But ••han are we sure as I sayed afore, that as for grace, if we desier it, God is at suche reasonyng alwaye pre∣sent, and very ready to geue it: and but if that men wil afterwarde willingly caste it awaye, he is euer styll as ready to kepe it, & from tyme to tyme glad to encrease it, and therefore byddeth vs oure Lorde by the mouth of the Prophete, that we shoulde not be lyke such bru∣tyshe and vnreasonable beastes, as were those hartes and as are horses and mules. Nolite fieri sicut equus & mulus in quibus non est intellectus. Be not you like an horse & a mule that hath no vnderstanding: and therefore Cosin lette vs neuer dreade, but that if we wil apply our myndes to the gathering of comfort and courage against such persecuciōs and heare reason, and let it sinke into our hearte and cast it not out againe, nor euen there choke it vp and stifle it with pampering in and stuffing vp oure stomakes with a surfite of worldly vanities, god shall so well woorke there with•• that we shall fynde great strength therein, and not in suche wyse haue all suche shamefull cowardous heartes, as to forsake our

Sauioure and thereby lese oure owne saluacion, and runne into eternal fyre for feare of death, ioined ther∣with, thoughe bitter and sharpe, yet shorte for all that and in a maner a momentary paine.

Vincent.

Euery man vncle naturally grudgeth at payne and is very loth to come to it.

Antony.

That is very trueth, nor no man biddeth a∣ny man to goe runne into it, but that if he be taken, & maye not flee, than we say that reason playnly telleth vs that we shoulde rather suffre and endure the lesse and the shorter here, than in hell the sorer and so farre the lenger to.

Vincent.

I heard vncle of late where suche a reason was made as you make me now, which reason semeth vndouted & vneuitable vnto me: yet heard I late as I say a man aunswere it thus: he sayd, that if a man in this persecucion should stand styll in the confession of hys fayth, and therby fal into paynfull tormentory, he might peraduenture hap for the sharpenes and bit∣ternes of the payne to forsake oure Sauioure euen in the middes, and die there with hys sinne, & so be dam∣ned for euer, wheras by the forsaking of the faith in the beginning by tyme, and for the tyme, and yet not but in woorde neyther keping it still neuer the lesse in his heart a manne may saue hymselfe from that paynful death, and after aske mercye and haue it, and lyue long, and doe many good dedes and be saued as. S. Peter was.

Anthony.

That mannes reason Cosin, is like a three foted stole so tottering on euerye side, that whoso sit thereon, maye soone take a foule fall: for these are the three feete of thys totteryng stole: fantasticall feare, false faith, false flatteryng hope.

First this is a fantastical feare, that the mā conceiue••h that it should be perilous to stande in the confession of the fayth at the beginning, leste he mighte afterwarde thorowe the bitternes of payne, fall to th•• forsaking, and so dye there in the payne, therwith ••ute of hande, and therby be vtterly damned, as though that if a mā by payne were ouercome, and so forsoke his fayth, god could not or would not, as well geue hym grace to re∣pente agayne, and therupon geue him forgeuenes, as him that forsoke his fayth in the beginning, and dy•• set so litle by hym that he woulde rather forsake hym, thā suffre for his sake, ani maner pain at al, as though the more payne that a man taketh for goddes sake, th•• worse would god be to him. If this reason were not vnreasonable thā should our Sauiour not haue sai•• as he dyd. Nolite timere eos qui corpus possunt occidere, & vlterius non ha∣bent quod faciunt. Feare not thē y^t may kil the bodi & after y^t haue nothing y^t they can doe farther: for he shoulde by this reason haue sayd, dreade & feare them that maye slaye the body for they maye by the tormente of paine∣ful death (but if thou forsake me be times in the begin∣ning and so saue thy life, and geat of me thy pardon and forgeuenesse after) make thee peraduenture for∣sake me to late, and so be damned for euer. The secōd foote of this tottering stole•• is a false faith, for it is but a fayned fayth for a man to saye to god secretely, that he beleueth hym, trusteth him, and loueth him, and thē openly where he shoulde to Gods honour tel the same tale and therby proue that he doth so: there to goddes dishonour as much (as in him is) doth he ••••atter gods enemies & doe them pleasure & worldly worship, with the forsaking of gods fayth before y^e worlde, and is ei∣ther faithles in his hert to•• or els wo••teth wel y^• he doth

God this dispite, euen before his owne face: for (except he lacke faith) he can not but knowe that our Lorde is euery where presente: and while he so shamefullye forsake hym, full angrely looketh on. The third foote of this totteryng stoole, is false flattering hope. For ••i••h the thing y^t he doeth whē he forsaketh his faith for feare, is by the mouth of god (vpon y^e paine of eternall death) forbodden, though y^e goodnes of god forgeueth many folke y^e faulte, yet to be the boulder in offending for the hope of forgeuing, is a verye false pestilente hope, wherewith a mā flattereth him selfe toward his owne destrucciō. He that in a sodaine brayde for feare, or other affecciō vnaduisedly falleth, & after in labou∣ring to rise againe cōforteth thē self w^t hope of gods gracious forgeuenes, walketh in y^• ready waie toward his saluaciō. But he that with y^e hope of goddes mercy to folowe dothe encourage him selfe to sinne & there∣with offendeth god, first I haue no power to shut the hand of god fro geuing out his pardon where he luste, ••or would if I could, but rather helpe to praye ther∣fore. But yet I very sore feare y^t such a mā may misse the grace to requier it in suche effectuall wise, as to haue it graunted: nor I can not sodainly nowe remē∣ber any sample or promise expressed in holy scripture, that the offender in suche a kind shall haue the grace offred in such wise to seke for pardō, that god hath (by his other promises of remission promised to the peni∣tētes, bounde him self to graunt it. But this kinde of presumpcion vnder pretexte of ho••e, semeth rather to drawe nere on y^e tone ••ide, as dispaire doth on y^e tother side, toward y^e abhominable sinne of plasphemie against the holy ghost. Against which sinne concernig eyther thimpossibilitie or at the least, greate difficultie of for∣geuenes,

our Sauiour hath shewed hym selfe in the xii. Chapter of. S. Mathewe, and in y^e thyrde of. S. Marke where he saith, that blasphemie against y^e holy ghoste, shall neuer be forgeuen, neyther in this worlde nor in the worlde to come. And where the mā that you spake of, toke in his reasō a sample of Sainte Peter: which forsoke our sa••iour, and gate forgeuenes after. Let him cōsider againe on y^e tother side, y^t he forsooke him not vpō the boldenes of any suche sinfull truste, but was ouercome & vanquished vpō, a sodayne feare: & yet by the forsaking, S•• Peter wanne but litle. For he did but delaye his trouble for a litle while you wote wel. For beside y^t, he repented forthwith very sore, y^t he so had doone, & wepte therefore by and by ful bitterly. He came forth at the whitsontyde ensewing, and con∣fessed his maister againe, and sone after that he was imprisoned therfore, and not ceasing so, was therupō sore scourged for the confession of his faith, and yet after y^e imprisoned againe a freshe, and being frō thēce deliuered, stinted not to preache on stil, vntyll y^t after manyfold labours, trauailes and troubles, he was at Roome crucified, and with cruel torment, slayne. And in likewyse I weene I mighte in a maner well war∣raunt that there shall no man (whych denieth our sauiour once, & after a••taineth remission) scape thorow that denying, one penny the better cheape, but that he shal ere he come in heauen, full suerly paye therefore.

☞Vincent.

He shal peraduēture worke it out afterward Uncle in the frutefull workes of penaunce, prayer & almose dede doone in true faith, & dewe charite, and attaine in such wise forgeuenes wel inoughe.

Antony.

All his forgeuenes goeth Cosin you se wel but by perhappes: but as it maie be perhappes ye, so may it

be perhappes naye. And where is he than? & you wote wel yet by no maner hap, he shall neuer hap finally to scape fro death, for feare of which he forsoke his faith.

☞Vincent.

No, but he maye dye hys naturall death, and scape that violent death, and than he saueth him selfe from much paine, and so winneth therwith much ease, for euermore a v••olent death is painefull.

Anthony.

Peraduenture he shal not auoide a violent death therby, for god is without doubt displeased, and can bring him shortly to a death as violent by some other way: howe be it, I see wel that you recken, that whoso dieth a natural death, dieth like a wanton euen al at his case. You make me remēbre a mā y^t was once in a galley subtill wyth vs on the sea, which while the sea was sore wrought, & the waues rose very high, & he came neuer on the sea afore, & lay tossed hither and thither•• y^• pore soule groned sore, & for paine he thought he would very faine be dead, & euer he wished woulde god I were on land y^t I might die in rest: the waues so troubled him there, w^t tossing him vp & doune to & fro, y^t he thought y^• trouble letted him to dye, because the waues would not let him rest: but if he mighte geatte once to land he though he should thā dye there euē, at his ease.

¶Vincent.

Nay Uncle, this is no doubt but that death is to euery man painefull: but yet is not the na∣turall death so painefull as the violent.

¶Anthony.

By my trouth Cosin me thinketh y^t the death which men cal comonly natural, is a violent dea••h to euery mā whom it fetche••h hence by force agains•• hys wil, & that is euery mā which when he dieth, is loth to die, & faine would yet lyue longer if he mighte. Howe be it, howe small the payne is in the naturall deathe Cosin, fayne woulde I wytte who hath tolde you. As

farre as I can perceiue, those folk y^e cōmonly depart of theyr natural death, haue euer one disease & sicknes or other, whereof if y^• paine of y^e whole weke or twaine in which they lie pining in thei•• bedde, were gathered to∣gether in so short a time, as a mā hath his paine y^t dieth a violēt death: it would I wene make double y^e paine y^t it is, so y^t he y^• naturally dieth, ofter suffereth more paine than lesse, though he suffer it in a longer time. And thā would many a mā be more loth to suffer so lōg lingering in paine, thā with a sharper to be soner rid. And yet lieth many a mā moe daies thā one in welnere as great paine cōtinually, as is y^e paine that with the violent death riddeth y^• mā in lesse thā halfe an howre, except a mā would wene, y^t where as y^e paine is great, to haue a knife cutte his fleshe in the out side fro the skinne inward, y^• paine would be much lesse, if y^e knife might on the inside beginne, & cutte fr•• y^e middes out∣ward. Some we heare in theyr death beddes cōplaine y^t they thinke they feele sharpe knifes cut a two theyr heart stringes. And some crye out & thinke they feele within the braine panne, theyr head pricked euen ful of pinnes. And they that lye in a pleuresie thinke at euerye time that they coughe, they fele a sharpe sword swappe them to the hearte.

¶The .xxv. Chapter. The cōsideracion of the pain•• of hell, in vvhich vve fall if vve forsake our sauiour•• maye make vs set all the painefull death of thys vvorlde at right nought.

HOwebeit, what shoulde we nede to make anye such cōparisō betwene the natural death & the violent. For the matter y^• we be in hand w^t here, may put it ••ut of doubt, that he whych for feare of the violent death, forsaketh the faith of Christ, putteth him self in y^e perel to find his natural death more paineful, a thousande times. For his naturall death, hath hys

euerlasting payne so sodeinly knyt vnto it, that there is not one moment of an houre betwene, but the ende of the tone is the beginning of the tother, that after shall neuer haue ende. And therfore was it not wyth∣out greate cause that Christ gaue vs so good warning before, when he sayed as, S. Luke in the .xii. chapit••r reherseth. Dico ••obis amicis meis ne terreamini ab iis qui occidunt corpus & post hac non habent amplius quod faciant, Ostendam autem vobis quem ••imeatis, Timete eum qui postquam occiderit habet potestatem mittere in ge∣••ennam, Ita dico vobis hunc timete•• I say to you y^t are my frēdes, be not afrayd of them that kil the body, and which whē that is done are able to do no more. But I shal shewe you whom you shal feare: Feare hym that, which whē he hath killed, hath in his power farther to caste hym whom he killeth, into euerlasting fyre. So I saye to you, be af••ayd of him. God meaneth not here that we should nothing dreade at al any man y^t can but kill y^• body, but he meaneth y^t we shoulde not in such wise dreade any such, y^t we should for dreade of thē displease him y^t can euerlastingly kil both body & soule w^t a death euer dying, and y^t shall yet neuer dye. And therfore he addeth and repeateth in the end againe•• the feare that we should haue of him, & saith. Ita dico vobis hun•• timete, so I saye to you, feare him. Oh good god Cosin, if a man would wel waygh these wordes & let thē sinke as they should do, doune depe into his heart, & often bethinke him self theron, it would, I doubt not be able inough ••o make vs set at nought al y^e great Turkes threates & esteme him not at a strawe, but wel cōtent to endure al the paine that al the world could put vpō vs (for so shorte while as all they were able to make vs dwell therin) rather than by the shrinking frō those paines (though neuer so sharpe, yet but short (to caste our self

into the payne of hel, an hūdreth thousand times more intolerable, & wherof there shall neuer come an ende. A woful death is that death, in which folke shall euer∣more be dying, & neuer can once be dead, wherof the scripture sayth. Vocabunt mortem & mors fugiet ab eis. They shal cal & crye for death & death shal flye from thē. O good lord, if one of thē were nowe put in y^e choise of y^e both, they would rather suffer the whole yere together the most terrible death that all the Turkes in Turkeye could deuise, thā y^• death y^t they lie in for y^• space of half an howre. In howe wreched foly fall thā these faith∣lesse or feble faithed folke, y^t to auoide y^e paine so farre the lesse and so short, fal in the stede therof into paine a thousand thousand times more horrible, & of which terrible tormēt, they be sure they shal neuer haue end. Thys matter Cosin lacketh as I beleue but eyther full faith or sufficient minding. For I thinke on my faith if we haue the grace verely to beleue it, and oftē to thinke wel theron, the feare of al the Turkes perse∣cuciō (with al this midde day deuil were able to make them doe, in the forcing vs to forsake our faith) should neuer be able to turne vs.

Vincent.

By my trouth Uncle, I thinke it is as you say, for sure if we would, as oftē thinke on these paines of hel, as we be very loth to do & seke vs peuish pastimes of purpose to put suche heauy thynges oute of oure thought thys one pointe alone were able inough to make I thinke many a martyre.

☞The .xxvi. Chapter. ¶The consideracion of the Ioyes of heauen shoulde mak•• vs for Christes sake abide and endure anye painefull death,

Anthony.

FOrsoth Cosin, if we were such as we shoulde be, I would scant for very shame (in exhorta∣cion to y^e keping of Christes faith) speake of y^e paines of hel. I would rather put vs in mind of the Ioyes of heauē, the pleasure wherof we should be more glad to geat, than we should be to flye & scape al the paines in hel. But surely god in y^e thing wherin he may seme most rigorous, is merueilous mercifull to vs, & that is (which many mē would litle weene) in y^t he prouided hell. For I suppose very surely Cosin•• y^• many a man & womā, of whom there sit some nowe, & moe shal hereafter sit ful gloriously crowned in heauē had they not fyrst been afraid of hel, would toward hea∣uē neuer haue set foote forward. But yet vndoubted∣ly were it so y^t we could as well cōceiue in our heartes the m••rueilous Ioies of heauē, as we cōceiue y^e feare∣ful paines of hel (howbeit sufficiently we can cōceiue neyther nother, but if we coulde in oure imaginacion drawe as much toward y^e perceiuing of the tother, we would not fayle to be farre more moued & stired to the suffering for Christes sake in this world, for y^e wīning of those heauēly Ioies, thā for y^e eschewing of al those infernall paines. But for as much, as y^e fleshlye plea∣sures be farre lesse pleasant, thā the fleshly paines are painful, therfore we fleshlye folke y^t are so drowned in these fleshly pleasures, & in the desier therof, y^t we can haue almost no maner sauor to taste in anye pleasure spiritual, haue no cause to meruaile, that our fleshlye affeccions be more abated and refrained by y^e dreade & terror of hell than affeccions spiritual imprynted in vs, and pricked forwarde with the desier and ioyfull hope of heauen: howebeit if we woulde somewhat

〈1 page duplicate〉〈1 page duplicate〉

〈1 page duplicate〉〈1 page duplicate〉

set lesse by the filthy volupteous appetites of y^e fleshe, and would by withdrawing from them, with ••elpe of praier thorowe the grace of god drawe neuer to the se∣crete inward pleasure of the spirite, we should by the little sipping that our heartes should haue here nowe & that sodaine tast thereof, haue such an estimacion of the incōparable & vncogitable Ioy, that we shal haue (if we wil) in heauen, by the very full draught thereof, wherof it is written Sa••••abor quū app••••uerit gloria tua•• I shal be ••aciate, satisfied or fulfilled, whan thy glory good lord shal appeare.) That is to witte, with the fruicion of the sight of goddes glorious maiestie face to face, that the desier. expectacion, & heauenly hope thereof, shall more encourage vs, & make vs strong to suffer & sustayne for the loue of god & saluacion of our soule, than euer we coulde be moued to suffer here worldly paine by the terrible dreade of all horrible paines that damned wretches haue in hell. Wherefore in y^e meane time for lacke of such experimental taste as God geueth here somtime to some of his special seruantes, to thentent we may drawe toward y^e spritual exercise to for which spiritual exercise, god with y^e gifte, as with an ear••est peny of theyr whole reward after in heauen, comfor∣teth thē here in earth. Let vs not so much w^t looking to haue described what maner of Ioyes they shalbe, as w^t hea••ing what our lord telleth vs in holi scripture, ho••e merueilous great they shalbe. Labour by praie•• to conceiue in our heartes such a feru••nt longing for them, that we maye for attaining to thē vtterly set at nought al fleshly delite, al worldly pleasures, al earthly losses, al bodely tormentes and paine. Howebeit some thinges are there in scripture, expressed of the mane•• of the pleasures & Ioyes, that we shal haue in heauen,

as where, Fulgebunt iusti sicut sol, & qui ••rudiunt ad iusticiam tanquam sci••••t••lle in arundin eto discurrent. Righteous mē shal shine as the sunne, and shall runne aboute like sparckles of fire a∣mong reedes.

Nowe tell some carnall minded man of this maner pleasure, & he shal take little pleasure therin, and saye he careth not to haue hys fleshe shine hye, nor lyke a sparke of fier to skippe about in the skie. Tel him that his bodi shalbe impassible, & neuer fele harme: ••••t if ••e thinke thā therwith that he shal neuer be an hu••gred nor a thyrst, and shal therby forbeare al his pleasu••e of eating and drinking, and that he shal neuer haue luste to s••epe, & therby lese the pleasure that he was wonte to take in slogging, and that men & women shall there lyue together as Angels without any maner mynde or mocion vnto y^e carnal acte of generacion. And y^t he shal thereby not vse there hys olde filthy volupteous fashion, he will fay he is better at ease alreadye, and would not geue this worlde for that. For as•• S. Paule saith. Animalis homo nō percipit e•• quesunt spiritus d••i stultica enim est illi: but when the time shal come that these foule filthy pleasures shall be so taken from him, that it shal abhorre his hearte once to thinke on thē whereof eue∣ry mā ha••h amonge a certaine shadowe of experience in the feruent grief of a sore paineful sickenes while the stomake can sca••te abide to loke vpon any meate. And as for y^• actes of y^• tother ••oule filthi luste, is readie to vomite, if it happen him to thinke therō, whan men shal I saye after this life, fele that horrible abhomina∣cion in theyr hearte, at the remembraunce of these volupteous pleasures: of which abhominaciō, sicknes hath been a shadowe, for which volupteous pleasures he would here be loth to chaunge wyth the Ioyes of

heauen when he shall I saye after thys life haue hys fleshlye pleasures in abhominacion, and shal of those heauenly Ioyes which he sette here so litle by, haue there a glymering, though farre frō a perfecte sight. Oh good god, howe fayne will he than be, with howe good wyl and howe glad wil he than geue this whole worlde if it were his, to haue the feling of some litle parte of those Ioyes. And therfore let vs all that can conceiue nowe such delite in the consideracion of thē as we shoulde haue often in our yies by reading oftē, in our eares by hearing often, in our mouthes by re∣hersing often, in our heartes, by meditacion and thin∣king vpon those Ioyful wordes of holye scripture, by which we learne howe wonderfull houge and•• greate those spi••itual heauenly Ioyes are, of whych our car∣nal heartes hath so feble and so faynte a feling and our dull worldly wittes so little able to conceiue so much as a shadowe of y^• right imaginacion, a shadowe I saye. For as for y^• thing as it is that ca•• not onely no fleshly carnall fantasie conceiue, but ouer that no spirituall gostlye person, peraduenture neyther that here is liuing stil in this worlde.

For sith the very substaunce essencial of al the celestial Ioyes standeth in blessed beholding of the glorious godhed face to face, there may no mā presume•• or loke to attaine it in this life. For God hath so said him self: Non videbit me homo & viuet. There shall no man here liuing behold me. And therfore we may well knowe, that for the state of thys life, we be not onely shut from the f••uicion of the blisse of heauen, but also that the very best man liuing here vpō earth (the best man I meane being no more but a man) can not I weene attayne the right imaginacion therof, but those that are very

verteo••s are yet in a maner as farre therfro, as the borne blinde man fro the right imaginaciō of colors. The wordes that Saynte Paule rehearseth of the prophet Esay prophecying of Christes incarnaciō, may proprely be verified of y^• Ioyes of heauen, N•••• oculus vidit ••ec a••ris a••diuit n••cin cor hominis ascendit que preparauit deus diligentibus se. For suerly for y^• state of this world y^• Ioyes of heauē are by mannes eares not audible, to mannes mouthe vnspeakable, to mannes eares not audible, to mānes hearte vncogitable, so farre forth excell they all that ••uer mē haue hearde of, al that euer mē can speake of & al y^• euer any mā can by natural possibilitie think on. And yet where the Ioyes of heauen being such prepa∣red for euery saued soule, Our lorde saieth yet by the mouth of Sainte Ihon that he wyll geue his holye martyrs, that suffre for his sake, many a special kind of ioy: For he saith, Vincenti dabo edere de ligno vite. To him y^t ouercommeth•• I shall geue him to eate of the tree of life. And also he that ouercommeth, shal be clothed in white clothes, and I shall confesse his name before my father and before his Aungelles. And also sayth: feare none of those thinges•• that you shal suffre. &c. But be faithful vnto the death, and I shall geue them the croune of life. He that ou••rcommeth shall not be hurte. Of y^• second death, he saieth also. Vincenti da••o manna absconditum & da••o illi calculum candidū & in calculo nomen nouum scriptū quod nemo scit nisi qui accip••t: To him that ouercommeth wyl I geue manna secrete and hid. And I wyl geue him a white suffrage, and in hys suffrage a newe name written which no man knoweth but he y^• receiueth it. They v••ed of olde in Greece (where as Saynte Ihō dyd wryte) to electe and choose men vnto honorable Rowmes, and euery mannes assent was called hys

suffrages, which in some place was by the voyces, in some places by hādes & one kind of those suffrages was by certaine thynges that are in Latine called Calculi. because that in some places they vsed thereto round stones.

Nowe saieth our lord, y^• vnto him which ouercōmeth, he will geue a white suffrage. For those that weare white, signified approuing, as the blacke signified re∣prouing. And in these suffrages, did they vse to write the name of him to whom they gaue theyr voyce. And nowe saieth our lord, that to him y^• ouercōmeth, he wil in the ••uffrage geue him a newe name, which no mā knoweth but he that receiueth it. He saith also, he y^• ouercommeth I wyll make him a piller in the temple of my God, and he shal goe no more out thereof. And I shall write vpon hym the name of my God, and the name of the Citie of my God, the newe H••erusalem which descendeth from heauen from my GOD, and I shal wryte vpon him also my newe name, if we would dy∣late and were able to declare these special giftes, with yet other mo, specified in y^e second and third Chapiter of y^e Apocalips: There would it appeare howe farre these heauenly Ioyes shall surmounte aboue all the comforte y^t euer came in the minde of any man liuing here vpō earth. The blessed Apostle Paule, y^• suffered so many perelles, & so many passions, he y^t saith of him selfe that he hath beene, In laboribus pluribu•• in carceribus abūd••ncius in plagis su•••••• m••dū•• &c•• In many laboures, in prisōs, of••er thā other. In stripes aboue measure. At pointe of death oftē times. Of y^• Iewes had I fiue times ••xl. stripes sa••e one. Thrise haue I been beatē w^t roddes•• once was I stoned. Thrise haue I been in shipwrake. A day and a night was I in y^• depth of y^e sea. In my

Iourneies ofte haue I beene in perel of floodes. In perel of theues. In perilles by y^• Iewes, In perilles by the Painims. In perilles in the Citie, In perilles in deserte. In perilles in the sea. In perilles by false brethren. In laboure and misery. In many nightes watch. In hunger & thyrst. In many fastinges in cold and nakednes, beside those thinges y^t are outward, my dayly instant labour, I meane my care, & sollicitude a∣bout all the churches: & yet sayth he more of his trybu∣lacions, which for lengthe I let passe. This blessed A∣postle I saye, for all these trybulacions y^t him selfe suf∣fred in the cōtinuance of so many yeres, calleth yet all ••he tribulacions of thys worlde, but light and shorte, as a moment in respecte of the weighty glory y^t it after this worlde winneth vs. Id enim quod in presenti est momentaneū, & le••e tribulacionis nostre supra modum in sublimitate eternū glorie pondus operatur in nobis nō contemplantibus nobis que videntur, ••ed que non ••identur. Que enim videntur te••poralia suit, que autem non videntur eterna sunt. This same short & momētary tribulaciō of ours y^• is in this present time, worketh within vs the weyght of glorye aboue measure in sublimitie, on highe we beholding not those thinges y^t we see, but those thinges y^t we see not. For those thinges y^t we se, be but tēporal thinges: but those thinges y^t are not sene, are eternal. Nowe to this great glory can there no mā come headlesse. Our head is Christ, & therfore to him must we be ioyned, & as members of his, must we folowe him if we wil come thither. He is our gide to gide vs thither, & is entred in before vs. And he therefore that wil enter in after, Debet ••itu••ille ambulauit, & ipse ambulare, the same way that Christ walked the same waye muste he walke. And what was the waye by whych he walked into heauen, hym selfe showeth what waye it was that hys father hadde prouided for hym, where he sayde vnto the two

••isciples going toward y^e castel of Emaus. Nescieba••is qui•• oportebat Cristū pati & sic introire in regnum suum? Knewe ye not that Christe must suffre passion, & by that waye entre into his kingdom? Who can for very shame desier to enter into y^e kingdome of Christ wyth ease, when him selfe entred not into his owne without paine.

The last Chapter. The consideracion of the painefull death of Christe, is sufficient to make vs content to suffre painefull death for his sake.

SUrely Cosin as I sayd before, in y^e bearing the losse of worldly goodes, in suffering of captiuitie, thraldome & imprisonmēt, and in the glad sustaining of worldly shame, that if we woulde in al those pointes depely ponder y^e sample of our sauiour hym selfe, it were of it selfe alone suf∣ficient to encourage euerye kinde Christen man and womā, to refuse none of al those calamities for his sake•• So saye I nowe for paineful death also, y^t if we could and woulde wyth dewe compassion conceyue in our mindes a righte imaginacion and remembraunce of Christes bitter paynful passion, of y^e many sore bloudy strokes that the cruel tormētors wyth Roddes and whippes gaue him vpō euery part of his holye tender bodye: the scorneful crowne of sharpe thornes beaten doune vpon hys holye head so s••rayte and so depe, that on euerye parte hys blessed bloude issued out and streamed doune his louely limmes, drawen and stretched out vpō the crosse, to the intollerable paine of hys forbeaten & sore beaten vaines & senewes, newe feling, with y^e crewel stretching and straining payne, farre passing any crampe in euey parte of hys blessed bodye at once. Than the great longe nayles crewe••ly dryuen wyth hammers thorowe his holy handes and

feete, and in this horrible paine lifte vp & let hang w^t y^• paice of al his body, bearing doune vpō the painefull wounded places, so greuously perced wyth nailes and in such torment (without pitie, but not without many dispightes) suffred to be ••ined & pained y^e space of more than three long houres til him selfe willingly gaue vp vnto hys father, hys holye soule. After whych yet to shewe y^e mightines of theyr malice after his holy soule departed, persed his holy heart with a sharpe speare, at which issued ••ut y^e holy bloud & water, wherof his holy sacramētes haue inestimable secrete strength: if we would I say remember these thinges in such wise as would god we would, I verely thinke & suppose, y^• the consideracion of his incōparable kindnes, coulde not in such wise faile to enflame our kaye cold heartes, & set them on fyre in hys loue, that we shoulde find our ••elfe, not onely conte••te, but also glad and desirous to suffre death for his sake, that so meruelous louinglye letted not to sustaine so farre passing painefull deathe for oures. Woulde GOD we woulde here to the shame of oure colde affeccion agayne towarde God, for suche ferue••te loue, and inestimable kynd∣nes of GOD towarde vs: would god we woulde I saye, but cōsider what hoate affeccion many of these fleshely louers haue borne, and daylye doe beare to those vpon whome they dote.

Howe many of them haue not letted to ieoparde their liues, and howe many haue willingely loste theyr liues in dede, wythout eyther great kindnes shewed them before (and afterwarde you wote well they coulde nothynge wynne?) but ••uen that it contented and satysfied theyr mynde, y^• by theyr deathe theyr louer should clerely se how faithfully they loued. The deli••e

wherof, imprinted in their fātasie, not asswaged onely, but counterpaised also they thought al their paine. Of these affecciōs with y^e woonderful dolorous effectes folowing theron, not onely old writtē stories, but ouer y^t I thinke in euery countrey christen & heathen both, experience geueth vs proofe inough. And is it not thā a wonderful shame for vs for y^• drede of tēporal death, to forsake our sauiour y^t willingly suffred so painefull death, rather thā he woulde forsake vs, considering y^t he shal for our suffering•• so highly reward vs w^t euer∣lasting welth. Oh, if he y^t is content to die for her loue, of whome he looketh after for no reward, & yet by hys death, goeth frō her, might by his death be sure to come to her; & euer after in delite & pleasure to dwell wyth her. Such a louer woulde not let here to dye for her twise, and howe cold louers be we thā vn••o god, if ra∣••her thā dye for hym once, we wil refuse him and for∣sake him for euer, that bothe died for vs before, & hath al••o prouided that if we die here for hym, we shall in heauen euerlastingly both liue & also raigne with him. For as Saint Paule saith, if we suffer with hym, we shall raigne with hym.

Howe many Romaines, howe many noble courages of other sundry coūtreies haue willingly geuen their owne liues and suffred greate deadlye paines, & very painfull deathes for theyr countreyes•• & the respecte of winning by theyr deathes, the onely reward of worldly renowne & fame. And should we thā shrinke to suffer as muche for eternall honoure in heauen and euer∣lasting glorye? The deuil hath some also so obstinate heretyques•• that endure wit••ingly painefull death for vaine glorye: & is it not than more then shame; that Christ shall ••ee his catholyques forsake hys fayth, ra∣ther

than suffer the same for heauen and very glorye•• Would god as I many times haue said, that the remē∣braunce of Christes kindnes in suffring his passiō for vs, the consideracion of hell that we shoulde fall in by forsaking of him, the ioyful meditacion of eternall lyfe in heauen, that we shal winne with this shorte tempo∣rall death paciently taken for him: had so depe a place in our brest as reason would they should, and as (if we would do our deuor toward it, and labor for it, and pray therfore) I verely thinke they should: for then shoulde thei so take vp our mind•• and rauish it al an other way, that as a man hur•• in a fraye feleth not sometime hys wound, nor yet is not ware therof til his mind fal more theron, so farforth, y^t sometime an other man sheweth him that he hath lost an hand before he perceiue it him∣self. So the mind rauished in the thinking depelye of those other thinges, Christes death, hell and heauē, wer likely to minish and put away of oure painfull deathe foure partes of y^e feling, ether of the feare or of y^e paine. For of this am I very sure, if we had the fiftienth part of y^e loue to Christ that he hath had, and hath vnto vs: al the pain of this Turkes persecucion could not kepe vs frō him but that there would be at this daye as ma∣ni martirs here in Hungarie, as haue be afore in other countreyes of old. And of this poynte put I no doubt•• but that if the Turke stode euen here, with al his whole a••mie about him, and euery of them wer ready at oure hand with all the terrible tormentes that they could y∣magine, and (but if we would forsake the faith) wer set∣tyng their tormentes to vs, and to the encrease of our ••er••or fell al at once in a shoute with trumpets tabrets and tembrels al blowē vp at once, and al theyr gunnes

let goe, therwith to make vs a feareful noyse if there should sodeinly than on the other side y^e groūde quake and riue a twayn, and the deuils rise oute of hell, and shewe themselfe in such ougli shape as damned wret∣ches shal see thē, & with y^e hidious howlyng that those hel houndes should shritche, laie hel open on euery sdie rounde about our fete, that as we stode, we should ••oke down into that pestilent pit, and see the swarme of sely soules in the terrible tormentes there, we would ware so frayde of the sight, that as for the Turkes host we should scantly remember we sawe them: and in good faith for al that, yet thinke I far••her this, that if there might thā appeare the great glory of god, the Trinitie in hys high meruelous maiestie, our Sauioure in hys gloryous manhode, sitting on hys trone with his im∣maculate mother, and al y^t glorious company callyng vs there vnto them, and that yet our waye should lye thorowe meruelous painfull death, before we coulde come at them, vpon the sight I say of that glory there woulde I wene be no man that once woulde shrinke thereat, but euery man would runne on towarde thē, in al that euer he mighte, thoughe there laie for malice to kil vs by the way•• both al the Turkes tormentors, & all y^e deuils to. And therfore Cosin, let vs wel considre these thynges, and let vs haue sure hope in the helpe of god, and I than doubt not, but we shalbe sure, that as the Prophet sayth, the trou••h of hys promyse shall so compasse vs with a pauice, that of this incurcion of this midde day deuil, this Turkes persecuciō, we shal neuer nede to feare: for eyther if we truste in god wel, and prepare vs therefore, the Turkes shal neuer med∣dle with vs•• or els if he doe, harme•• shall he none dooe vs•• but in s••ede of harme, inestimable good, of whose

gracious helpe wherefore shoulde we so sore nowe dis∣payre (excepte we were so madde men as to wene, that either his power or hys mercye were worne oute al∣ready, when we see so many a thousande holy martirs by his holy helpe suffred as much before as any man should be put ••o now. Or what excuse can we haue by y^e tēdernes of our fleshe, whē we can be no more tēder, thā were many of thē among whō were not onely mē of strength, but also weake women and children & sith the strength of them all s••ode in the helpe of god, and y^t the very strongest of them all was neuer able of them selfe & with gods helpe the feblest of thē al was strong inough to stand against al y^e world, let vs prepare our self with praier, with our whole trust in his helpe with∣out any trust in our own strength, let vs thinke th••ron and prepare vs in our myndes therto, long beefore: let vs therin cōforme our wil vnto hys, not desiring to be brought vnto the peril of persecucion, for it semeth a proude high minde to desire martirdom, but desiring help and ••••rength of god, if he suffre vs to come to the stresse eyther being sought, founde, or broughte oute a∣gainst our wils•• beyng by hys commaundemente (for the comfort of our cure) bounden to abide: let vs fal to fasting•• to praier to almose dede in time, and geue that vnto god that may be taken from vs. If the deuil put in our mind•• y^e sauing of our land & oure goodes, let vs remember that we cannot saue thē long. I ••he feare vs with exile and fleing from our countrey, let vs re∣membre y^t we be borne into y^e brode world (& not lyke a t••ee to s••i••ke stil in on•• place) and y^t whither so euer we go god shal go w^t vs. If he thre a••ē vs w^t captiuitie, let vs tel him again, better is it to be thral vnto mā a ••hile for y^e pleasure of god, thā by displeasīg of god, be perpe∣tual thral vnto y^e deuil: if he threate vs w^t imprisōmēt

let vs tel him we wil rather be mans prisoners a while here in earth, than by forsaking the faith, be his priso∣ners for euer in ••el. If he put in our mindes the terror of the Turkes, let vs consider his false sleight therin, for this tale he telleth vs to make vs forgeat him. But let vs remember wel y^t in respect of himself, the Turke is but a shadow, nor al that they al can doe, can be but a fle a biting in comparison of the mischief that he goeth ab••ut. The Turkes are but his tormentors for himself doth the dede. Our Lord saith in the Apocalips, Diabo∣lus m••tret aliquos vestrum••n carcerem, vt tentemini. The deuyll shall send some of you to prison to tempt you. He saith not y^• men shal, but that the d••uil shal himself. For withoute question the deuils owne dede it is to bring vs by hys temptacion with feare and force thereof into eternall damnacion. And therfore saith, S. Paul. Non est nobis col∣luctatio aduersus carnem & sāguinem, fed &c. Our wrestlyng is not against flesh and bloud. &c. Thus may you see that in suche persecucions it is the mid day deuil himself that maketh suche incursion vpon vs, by the men that are his ministers, to make vs fal for feare. For ••y•• we fal, he can neuer hurt vs•• And therfore sayth. S. Petre, Resi∣stite diabolo & fugiet a vob••s•• Stand againste the deuill, and he shal flye from you. For he neuer ••unneth vpon a man to season him with his clawes, til he see him downe on the ground willingly fallen himself. For his fashion is to set his seruantes again••t vs, and by thē to make vs for feare or for impacience to fal, & himself in y^e meane whyle compasseth vs running and roaring like a rā∣••ing Lion about vs, loking ••••o w••l fal, y^t he than may deuoure him, Aduer••••riu•• v••ster diabolus (saith. S. Peter) Sic••: leo rugiens c••rcuit queren•• quem de••oret, Your aduersa••ye the deuill l••ke a roring Liō, rūneth about incircui••e, seking whō

he may deuoure. The deuil it is therfore that if we for feare of men wil fal) is ready to runne vpon vs, and de∣uoure vs. And is it wisedome than so muche to thinke vpon the Turkes that we forgeat the deuil? what mad man is he that when a Liō wer about to deuoure him, would vouchesafe to regard the biting of a litle fysling ••urre? Therfore whē he roareth out vpō vs by y^e threts of mortal men, let vs tel him that with our inward iye, we see him wel ynough, and entend to stande & fighte with him, euen hand to hand: if he threaten vs that we be to weake, let vs tell him that our Captain Christ is with vs, and that we shal fi••hte with his strength, that hath vanquished him already, and let vs fence vs with faith, and comfort vs with hope, and smite the deuill in the face with a fyrebrande of cha••itie. For surelye if we be of the tender louing mind that our maister was•• and not hate them that kil vs but pitie them and praye for them, with sorowe for the peril that thei worke to them self, that fire of charitie throwen in his face, striketh the deuil sodainly so blind, that he cannot se where to fastē a stroke on vs. When we fele vs to bol••, remember our own feblenesse. When we fele vs to fainte, remember Christes strēgth. In our feare let vs remēber Christes painefull agonye that himselfe ••oulde (for oure coum∣fort) suffer before his passiō, to thētēt y^t no feare should make vs despaire. And euer cal for his help such as him self lust to sende vs, and than we nede neuer to doubte but that either he shal kepe vs from the painful death, or shal not fayle so to strength vs in it, that he shal ioy∣ou••ly bring vs to heauen by it. And then doth he much more for vs then if he kept vs from it. For as god dyd more for poore Lazare in helping him pacientely to dye for hunger at the riche mannes doore, than if he hadde

brought him to the dore al the riche glotous dinner, so though he be gracious to a man whom he delyuereth out of paynefull trouble, yet doth he muche more for a man, if thorowe right paynful death he deliuer him frō thys wretched worlde into eternal blisse, from whiche whosoeuer shrinke away with forsaking of hys fayth, and falleth in the perell of euerlasting fier, he shall be very sure to repent it ere it be long after. For I weene that whensoeuer he falleth sicke next, he wil wishe that he had been killed for Christes sake before. What foly is it than for feare to flye from that death, which thou seest thou shalt shortly after wishe thou haddest dyed, yea I wene almo••t euery good christē mā woulde ve∣ry fayne thys day that he had been for Christes fayth cruelly killed yesterday, euen for the desyre of heauen, though there were no hell, but to feare while the payn is comming, there is all our let. But then if we would remembre hell payne on the other syde, into which we fal while we flye fro this, then should this shorte payn be no let at al, and yet should we be more pricked for∣warde, if we were faythful by depe considering of the Ioyes of heauen of whiche the Apostle sayeth: Non sunt digne passi••nes huius temporis ad futuram gloriam que reuelabitur in nobis the passions of this tyme, be not worthy to y^e glory that is to come, which shalbe shewed in vs. We should not I wene Cosin, nede much more in all this whole mat∣ter, than that one text of. S. Paul if we would consy∣der it wel. For surely my own good Cosin, remember that if it were possible for me and you alone•• to suffre as much trouble as the whole world doth together, all that were not worthy of it selfe to bryng vs to the ioye which we hope to haue euerlastingly: and therefore I pray you let the consideracion of that Ioye, put our all

worldly trouble out of your heart, and also pray that it maye doe thesame in me: and euen thus wyll I good Cosin, with these wordes make a sodayne ende of my whole tale, and bidde you fare wel, for now I begin to fele myselfe some what wery.

☞Vincent.

Forsoth good vncle this is a good ende, and it is no meruaile though you be waxē wery, for I haue this day put you to so much labour, y^e sauing for the comfort that your selfe may take of your tyme so well bestowed, and for the comfort that I haue my selfe ta∣ken and moe shal I trust for your good counsayle ge∣uen, els woulde I bee very sorye to haue put you to so much pain, and now shal our lorde rewarde and recō∣pence you therfore, and many shal I trust pray for you for to thentent that the moe may take profit by you, I purpose vncle as my poore witte and learning wyll serue me, to put your good coūsayle in remembraunce not in our language onely, but in the Almayne tonge to, and thus praying god to geue me and all other that shall rede it, the grace to folowe your good counsayle therin, I shal commit you to god.

A••tony.

Sith you be minded Cosin, to bestowe so much labour therō. I would it had happed you to fetche the counsayle at some wyser man that could haue ge∣uē you better, but better mē may set moe thynges and better also thereto, and in the meane tyme, I besec••e our lord to breath of hys holy spirite in y^e readers brest whiche inwardely maye teache him in hearte, without whome, litle auaileth all that all ••he mouthes of the worlde wer able to teache in mennes eares. And thus good Cosin, fare well tyll God brynge vs together a∣gayne, eyther here or in heauen. Amen.

FINIS.