Actes and monuments of matters most speciall and memorable, happenyng in the Church. [vol. 2, part 1] with an vniuersall history of the same, wherein is set forth at large the whole race and course of the Church, from the primitiue age to these latter tymes of ours, with the bloudy times, horrible troubles, and great persecutions agaynst the true martyrs of Christ, sought and wrought as well by heathen emperours, as nowe lately practised by Romish prelates, especially in this realme of England and Scotland. Newly reuised and recognised, partly also augmented, and now the fourth time agayne published and recommended to the studious reader, by the author (through the helpe of Christ our Lord) Iohn Foxe, which desireth thee good reader to helpe him with thy prayer.

*Heere followeth the history no lesse lamentable then notable of William Gardiner an Englishman, suf∣fering most constantly in Portyngale for the testimony of Gods truth.

* 1.1COmming now to the yeare next following 1552. wee will some what step aside, and borow a little leaue, coa∣sting the Seas into Portingale amongst the Popish mar∣chauntes there, whither a certaine countrymā of ours doth call me, named William Gardiner, a man verely in my iudgement, not only to be compared with the most princi∣pall & chiefe Martirs of these our daies, but also such one, as the auncient Churches in the time of the first persecuti∣ons, can not shew a more famous: whether we do behold the force of his faith, his firme and stedfast constantnes, the inuincible strength of his spirit, or the cruell and horrible tormentes: the report only and hearing whereof, were e∣nough to put any man in horror or feare. Yet notwyth∣standing so farre it was of that the same did discourage him, that it may be doubted whether the payne of his bo∣dy, or the courage of his mind were the greater: when as in deede both appeared to be very great.

Wherfore, if any prayse or dignity amongst men, (as rea∣son is) be due vnto the Martirs of Christ for their valiant actes,* 1.2 this one man amongst many, seemeth worthy to bee numbred and also to be celebrate in the Church with Igna∣tius, Laurentius, Ciriatius, Grescentius, and Gordianus. And if the Church of Christ do receiue so great and manifolde be∣nifits by these martirs, with whose bloud it is watred, by whose ashes it is enlarged, by whose constancie it is con∣firmed, by whose testimonie it is witnessed, and finally through whose agonies and victories the truth of the Gos∣pell doth gloriously triumph: let not vs then thinke it any great matter, to requite them with our duety againe, by committing them vnto memory, as a perpetuall token of our good will towards them. Albeit, they themselues re∣ceiue no glory at our hands, and much lesse challenge the same: but referre it wholy vnto the Lord Christ, frō whom it came whatsoeuer great or notable thing there was in them. Notwithstanding, for so much as Christ himselfe is glorified in his Saints, we cā not shew our selues thanke∣full vnto him, except we also shew our selues dutifull vnto those, by whome his glory doth increase.

Heereupon I thinke it came to passe, that the aunciente Christians in the time of the first persecutiōs,* 1.3 thought good to celebrate yearely commemorations of the Martirdome of those holy men, not so much to honour thē, as to glorifie God in his souldiours, vnto whom all glory & praise doth worthely belong: and moreouer, that we being instructed by their example, might bee the more prompt and ready in the policies of those warres, to stand more stoutly in bat∣ta••le against our aduersaries, and learne the more easily to contemne and despise thys worlde. For in considering the ende and death of these men, who will greatly long or luste after this life, which is so many wayes miserable, through so many afflictions dolorous, through so many casualties rumous, wherin consisteth so litte constancie & lesse safety, being neuer free from some hard calamitie one or other? What good mā would haue this world in reputatiō, wher∣in he seeth so many good men so cruelly oppressed, & wher∣in no man can liue in quietnes, except he be wicked? Wher∣fore I do not a little merueile,* 1.4 that in this great slaughter of good mē with so many spectacles and examples of cruell tormēt, Christians do yet liue as it were drowned in y^e foo∣lish desires of this world, seeing dayly before their eyes so many holy and innocent men yeeld vp their spirits vnder the handes of such tormentors, to lye in filthy prisons, in bondes, darkenes, and teares, & in the end to be consumed with fire. We see so many Prophets of God, euen Christ himself the sonne of God,* 1.5 to be so cruelly and many waies afflicted in this world, tormoiled, scourged and crucified: & yet we laugh, drinke, and giue our selues vnto all losenes of life, and all lasciuiousnes. For honour & great possessi∣ons we contend: we build: we study & labour by al meanes to make our selues rich. Unto whome it doth not suffice y^t we with safety and freedome from their afflictions, racks, wheeles, scourges, yrons read hote, gredirōs, fleshhookes, mallets, and other kyndes of tormentes, may serue our Christ in peace and quiet: but being herewith not content, will giue ouer our selues to all kinde of wickednes, to be led away at the will and pleasure of Sathan?

* 1.6But what do we thinke in so doing? Eyther we must recken those mē to be most miserable in this life, or els our selues to be most vnhappy. But if their blessednes be most certaine and sure, then let vs direct the course of our life to the same felicitie. These men haue forsaken this life, which they might haue enioyed. But if w•• cannot willingly put of this life, yet let vs not be slow to amend and correct the same: and though wee cannot dye with them in like mar∣tyrdome, yet let vs mortifie the worldly and prophane affections of y^e flesh, which striue agaynst y^e spirite & at the least let vs not runne thus headlong into the licētious de∣sires of the world, as we do. As the lyfe of Christen men is nowe, I praye thee, what doe these bondes, prisons, these woundes and scarres, these great fires, and other horrible tormentes of martirs, then vpbrayd vnto vs our slouthful sluggishnes, & worthely make vs ashamed therof? Which Martirs if in their liues they liued so innocently, & in their death continued so constant, what then is to be deemed of vs which suffer nothing for Christ, and will not take vpon vs the small conflict agaynst vices & our owne affections? How would we suffer the cruell looks of tirannes?* 1.7 y^e fear∣full kindes of torments, or the violent assaultes of the tor∣menters in any quarrell of godlines, if in peace and quiet∣nes we are & y^t with euery small breath or winde of temp∣tation we are blown away frō God, so faynt harted w^tout any resistaunce are caryed headlong into all kinde of wic∣kednes & mischiefe? One singeth songes of loue, an other watcheth all the night at dice, some spend their life & tyme day by day in hawking & hūting, some tipple so at tauerns that they come home reeling. Others what soeuer desire of reuenge doth put into their heads, that by and by they seek to put in practise. Some gape after riches: some swell with ambition: some thinke they are borne for no other purpose but for pleasure and pastime. All the world is full of iniury and periury, nay rather it is so rare a thinge paciently to suffer iniuries done vnto ••s, that except we haue y^e sleight to doe iniury to other, wee thinke our selues scarse men. There is no loue almost nor Charitie among men: neither is there any man that regardeth the good name or fame of his neighbour.

But amongst al the rest, vnsatiable couetousnes and a∣uarice so raigneth that no man almost is contented w^t any tollerable estate of life, either that wil prescribe himself any measure in hauing y^t he possesseth: or in proling for y^e which he lacketh: neuer quiet, but alwayes toiling, neuer satisfied but alwaies vnsatiable. Whereby it so commeth, that the mindes of Christen men, being occupyed in suche worldly carks & cares, can scarsely find any vacant leisure to think vpon heauenly things: and yet notwithstanding w^t these mindes, we will needes seeme Christians. But nowe set∣ting apart these complayntes spent in vayne, we will pro∣secute our purposed story touching good W. Gardiner.

And first as cōcerning his kinred, he was of an honest stocke, borne at Bristow,* 1.8 a towne of Marchandise on the seacost of England, honestly brought vp and by nature ge∣uen vnto grauitie, of a meane stature of body, of a comelye & pleasant countenance, but in no part so excellent as in y^e inward quallities of the mind, which he alwayes from his childhood preserued without spot of reprehension. Also his handsome and indifferent learning did not a litle commēd & beautifie his other ornamēts. When he grew vnto those yeares at which young men are accustomed to settle theyr minds to some kinde of life, it happened y^t he gaue himselfe to the trade of Marchandise, vnder y^t conduct & guidyng of a certaine marchant of Bristow, called M. Paget,* 1.9 by whō he was at the last (being of the age of xxvi. yeares, or ther∣about,) sent into Spayne, and by chaunce the ship ariuing at Lishborne (which is the chiefe Citie of Portugale) he ta∣ryed there about his Marchandise, where at the last he ha∣uing gotten vnderstanding of the language and being ac∣customed to their maners, became a profitable seruāt both vnto his maister & others, in such things as pertayned vn¦to the trade of that vocation. Whereunto he did so applye himselfe that neuerthelesse he in that popish country reser∣uing still the religion of his owne country of England, e∣uer kept himself sound and vndefiled from the Portugals superstition. There were also besides him diuers other good men in y^e same Cittie.* 1.10 Neither did he lacke good books or the conference of good and honest men, vnto whome he would oftentimes bewayle his imbecilitie and weakenes that he was neither sufficiently touched w^t the hatred of his sinnes, neither yet inflamed with the loue of godlines.

Whilest hee was there abiding, it happened that there should be a solemne maryage,* 1.11 celebrate y^e first day of Sep∣tember in the yeare abouesayd, betweene two Princes: to say, the sonne of the king of Portugale, & the Spanishe K. his daughter. The mariage daye being come, there was great resort of the Nobility and Estates. There lacked no Bishops with Miters, nor Cardinals with their hats, to set out this royall wedding. To be short they wēt forward to the wedding with great Pompe, where a great con∣course

of people resorted, some of good will, some for ser∣uice sake, and some (as the maner is) to gaze and looke. Great preparation of all parties was there throughout the whole Citie, as in such cases is accustomed, and all places were filled with mirth and gladnes. In this great assem∣bly of the whole kingdome, William Gardiner, who, al∣beit he did not greatly esteeme such kind of spectacles, yet being allured through the fame and report thereof, was there also, comming thether early in the morning, to the intent he might haue the more oportunitie and better place to behold and see.

The houre being come, they flocked into the church with great solemnitie and pompe: the King first, and then euery estate in order.* 1.12 The greater persons, the more ceremonies were about them. After all things were set in order, they went forward to the celebrating of their Masse: for that a∣lone serueth for all purposes. The Cardinall did execute, with much singing and orgaine playing. The people stood with great deuotion and silence, praying, looking, knee∣ling, and knocking, their mindes being fully bent and set, as it is the maner, vppon the externall sacramente. How greeuously these things did pricke and mooue this yong mans minde, it can not be expressed, partly to beholde the miserable absurditie of those things, and partly to see the folly of the common people: and not only of the common people,* 1.13 but specially to see the King himself and his Coun∣cell, with so many sage and wise men (as they seemed) to be seduced with like Idolatry as the common people were: In so much that it lacked very little, but that he woulde e∣uen that present day haue done some notable thing in the Kings sight and presence, but that the great prease and throng that was about him, letted that he could not come vnto the altar. What neede many words? when the cere∣monies were ended, he commeth home very sad and heauy in his minde: in so much that all his fellowes marueiled greatly at him: Who albeit vpon diuers coniectures they conceiued the cause of his sadnes, notwithstanding they did not fully vnderstand that those matters so much trou∣bled his godly mind: neither yet did he declare it vnto any man, but seeking solitarines & secret places falling downe prostrate before God, with manifold teares bewayled the neglecting of his dutie, deliberating with himselfe how he might reuoke that people from their impietie and super∣stition.

In this deliberation and aduise his mind being fully set∣led, and thinking that the matter ought not to be any lon∣ger differred, he renounced the world, making vp all his accompts so exactly (as well of that whiche was due vnto him,* 1.14 as that whiche he ought vnto others) that no man coulde iustly aske so muche as one farthing. Which thyng done, he continued night and day in prayer calling vppon God, and continuall meditation of the Scriptures, that scarsely he would take any meate by day,* 1.15 or slepe by night, or that most, aboue an houre or two of rest in the night, as Pendigrace his felow companion both at bed and boord, being yet aliue, can testifie.

The Sonday came againe to be celebrate either wyth like pompe & solemnitie,* 1.16 or not much lesse, wheras the sayd William was present earely in the morning, very cleanely apparelled euen of purpose, that he might stand neare the altar without repulse. Within a while after commeth the King with all his Nobles. Then Gardiner setteth hym∣selfe as neare the alter as he might, hauing a Testament in his hand, the which he diligently read vpon, and prayed, vntill the time was come that he had appointed to worke his feate.* 1.17 The Masse began, which was then solemnised by a Cardinall. Yet he sate still. He which said Masse, pro∣ceeded, he consecrated, sacrificed, lifted vp on high, shewed his God vnto the people, all the people gaue great reue∣rence, and as yet he stirred nothing. At the last they came vnto that place of the Masse, whereas they vse to take the ceremoniall Hoste, and tosse it too and fro round about the Chalice, making certaine circles and semicircles. Then the sayd William Gardiner not being able to suffer any lon∣ger, ranne speedily vnto the Cardinall: and (which is vn∣credible to be spoken) euen in the presence of the King and all his Nobles and Citizens,* 1.18 with the one hande he snat∣ched away the cake from the Priest, and trode it vnder hys feete, and with the other hand ouerthrew the chalice. Thys matter at the first made them all abashed, but by and by there rose a great tumult, and the people began to cry out. The Nobles and the common people ranne together, a∣mongst whome, one drawing out his dagger, gaue him a great wounde in the shoulder, and as he was aboute to strike him againe to haue slaine him, the King twise com∣maunded to haue him saued. So by that meanes they ab∣steined from murther.* 1.19

After the tumult was ceased, he was brought vnto the King: by whome he was demaunded what countreyman he was,* 1.20 and how he durst be so bold to worke such a con∣tumely against his Maiestie, and the Sacramentes of the Church? He answered: Most noble King, I am not asha∣med of my Countrey, which am an Englishman both by birth and religion, and am come hether only for traffike of Marchaundise. And when I saw in this famous assembly so great Idolatry committed, my conscience neither ought neither could any longer su••••er, but that I must needes do that which you haue scene me presently do. Whiche thyng (most noble Prince) was not done nor thought of me for any contumely or reproche of your presence, but onely for this purpose (as before God I do clearely confesse) to seeke the only saluation of this people.

When they heard that he was an Englishman,* 1.21 and cal∣led to remembraunce how the Religion was restored by K. Edward, they were by and by brought in suspition, that he had bene suborned by Englishmen thus to do, to mocke and deride their religion. Wherefore they were the more earnest vpon him to knowe who was the author and pro∣curer that he should commit that act. Unto whome he an∣swered, desiring them that they would conceiue no suche suspition of him, for so much as he was not moued there∣unto by any man, but only by his owne conscience.* 1.22 For o∣therwise there was no man vnder the heauen, for whose sake he would haue put himselfe into so manifest daunger: but that he ought this seruice first vnto God, and seconda∣rily vnto their saluation: wherefore if he had done anye thing which were displeasaunt vnto them, they ought to impute it vnto no man, but vnto themselues, which so vn∣reuerētly vsed the holy Supper of the Lord vnto so great Idolatry, not without great ignominie vnto the Church, violation of the Sacraments, and the perill of their owne soules, without they repented.

Whilest that he spake these with many other thynges more vnto this effect very grauely and stoutly, the bloud ran aboundantly out of the wounde, so that he was ready to faint. Whereupon Surgeons were sent for, whereby he might be cured if it were possible, and be reserued for fur∣ther examination, and more greeuous torment. For they were fully perswaded that this deede had diuers abbettors and setters on: which was the cause that all the other eng∣lishmen also in the same citie came into suspition, and were commaunded to safe custody. Amongst whome,* 1.23 Pendi∣grace, because he was his bedfellow, was greeuously tor∣mented and examined more then the residue, and scarcely was deliuered after two yeares imprisonment. The other were much sooner set at libertie at the intercession of a cer∣taine Duke. Notwithstanding their suspition coulde not yet be satisfied, but they came vnto his chamber to seeke if there were any letters,* 1.24 to vnderstand and find out the au∣thor of this enterprise. And when as they coulde finde no∣thing there, they came againe vnto him being greeuously wounded, with tormentes to extort of him the author of this fact, and to accuse him as gilty of most greeuous here∣sie. Of both whiche pointes, with suche dexteritie as hee could, he cleered himselfe. Wherein, albeit he spake in the Spanish tong well, yet he vsed the Latin tong much more exactly.

But they not being therewith satisfied, added another straunge kynde of torment, which (as I suppose) passeth the Bull of Phalaris. Because there shoulde no kynde of extreme crueltie be left vnassayed,* 1.25 they caused a linnen cloth to be sowed round like a ball, the which they wyth violence put downe his throate vnto the bottome of hys stomacke, tied with a small string which they held in their hands, and when it was downe, they pulled it vp agayne with violence, so plucking it too and fro through the meate pipe, in suche sorte, as with muche lesse griefe they might haue ridde him out of his life at once.

Thus at the last, when all tormentes and tormenters were weeried, and that it did nothing at all preuaile to go this way to worke, they asked him whether he did not re∣pent his wicked and seditious deede. As touching the deede, aunswered, that it was so farre off that he did re∣pent, that if it were to do againe, he thought he should do the same. But as touching the maner of the deede, he was not a little sory that it was done in the Kings presence to the disquietnes of his minde. Howbeit, that was not to be imputed vnto him, which neither enterprised or thought vpon any such matter,* 1.26 but rather to be ascribed vnto the King, in that he hauing power, woulde not prohibite so great Idolatry vsed among his people. This he spake with great feruencie.

After they had vsed all kynde of torments, and saw th••t there could nothing more be gathered of him, and also that through his woundes and paynes he could not long liue▪ they brought him three dayes after to execution. And first

of all,* 1.27 bringing him into the Uestry, cut off his right hand, which he taking vp with his left hād, kissed. Then he was brought into the market place, wheras his other hand also was cut off: which he kneeling downe vpon the grounde, also kissed. These things thus done after the manner and fashion of Spaine, his armes being bound behinde him, & his feete vnder the horse bellye, hee was caried to the place of execution.

[illustration]

❧ The order and manner of the cruell handlinge of William Gardiner, an English Merchaunt, tormen∣ted and burned in Portugall, in the cause of God and of his truthe.

There was in that place a certaine engine, frō the which a great rope comming downe by a pulley,* 1.28 was fastened a∣bout the middle of this Christian Martyr, which first pul∣led him vp. Then was there a great pile of woode sette on fire vnderneath him, into the which he was by little & lit∣tle let downe, not with the whole body, but so, that his fete only felt the fire. Then he was hoised vp, and so let downe againe into the fire, and thus oftentimes pulled vppe and downe. In which great torment for al that, he continued w^t a constant spirite: and the more terribly he burned, y^e more vehemently he prayed.

At the last, when his feete were consumed, the tormen∣tors asked him whether hee did not yet repent hym of his deede,* 1.29 and exhorted him to call vppon oure Ladie and the Saintes. Wherunto he answered, that as he had done no∣thing whereof hee did repent him, so hee had the lesse neede of the helpe of our Lady or any other Sainte: and what ex∣ternall torments so euer they vsed, the truthe (he sayde) re∣maineth alwaies one and like vnto it selfe: the which as he had before confessed in his life, so would he not nowe denie it in his death▪ desiring them to leaue of such vanities and follie. For when as Christ did cease any more to be our ad∣uocate, then he would pray to our lady to be his aduocate,* 1.30 and sayd: O eternall God, father of all mercies, I beseeche thee looke downe vpon thy seruant. &c. And when as they sought by all meanes possible to stoppe his praying, and praising God in this sorte, he cried out with a loude voyce, rehear∣sing the 43. Psalme: Iudica me Deus, & discerne causam me∣am, de gente non sancta. Iudge me O God, and defende my cause against the vnmercifull people.

He was not come vnto the latter ending of the Psalme, when as they pulling him vp and downe in the fire for the more torment, the rope being burnt a sonder, he fel downe in the midst therof: wheras geuing his body for a sacrifice, hee chaunged his temporall paines for perpetuall rest and quietnesse.

Thus it seemed good in the sighte of God by this Mes∣senger to prouoke the Portugales to y^e sincere knowledge of him: and therfore they ought the more to haue acknow∣ledged the great loue & kindnesse of God offred vnto them, and also the more to be mindefull of their owne duetie and thankefulnesse towardes him. And if it be so great an of∣fence

to violate the ordinaunces of mans lawe, and to con∣temne the Ambassadours of Kyngs and Princes, lette the Portugalles and all other looke well vnto it,* 1.31 what it is so cruelly to handle the heauenly messenger of the high God. Neither was this their cruelty altogether vnreuenged by the mighty hand of God,* 1.32 when as not onely the very same night, amongst diuers of the kings ships which were in y^e next hauen ready to saile, one was burned, being set on fire by a sparcle of Gardiners fire driuen thether w^t the winde, but also y^e kings sonne which then was maried, died with∣in halfe a yere,* 1.33 and the next yere after the King himselfe al∣so died, and so both within one yeare after the tormenting of this blessed Martyr.

Thus the body of the sayd Gardiner being consumed, yet the rage & fury of the common people so ceased not, but they were as cruell against him being deade, as they were when he was aliue, and with their tongues tormēted this Martyr, when they could doe no more with their handes: yea for very madnes they would scarse tarry vntil he were burned, but euery man as they could catch any pece of him halfe burned, threwe it into the sea.

Thys Sacrifice thus ended, the Cleargie, to pacifie Gods wrath which they feared,* 1.34 for the violating of theyr aultar, appoynted a solemne fast of certaine dayes, for pe∣naunce to purge that facte, which facte rather shoulde haue taught them to purge them selues, and to put awaye theyr filthy Idolatrie, and much rather they shoulde haue fasted & repented for that their extreeme cruelty they had shewed vnto the liuely member of Christ.

Albeit this death of William Gardiner seemeth to haue profited very many of them litle or nothing: yet for all that there are some (as I haue hearde diuers reporte) oute of whose mindes the remembraunce of this constant Martir can neuer be pulled, and is so freshe yet amongest them, as if it were nowe lately done: and finally, albeit it be a good while since hee was put to death, yet the memorie of hys death, as frutefull seede, hath taken such roote in some, that euen vnto this present day, he is a liuely and diligent prea∣ching vnto them, against superstition and Idolatry vsed in their Churches. Ex testimonio N. Fildi, Pendigrace, & aliorum, qui rei gestae interfuerunt.

Notes

• * 1.1

  The story of W. Gar∣••••ner. most 〈…〉〈…〉 in Portugale.
• * 1.2

  W. Gardi∣ner, com∣parable with the Martyrs in the primi∣t••••e church. What du••ty is to be geuē of Christiās to the bles∣sed Martyrs past.

  The memo∣ry of Christes Martyrs not to be for∣gotten.
• * 1.3

  How it 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to passe that 〈…〉〈…〉 Church 〈◊〉〈◊〉 yearely 〈…〉〈…〉 Martyrs. ••••perstitiō 〈◊〉〈◊〉 honou∣••••••g Mar∣tyrs.

  What 〈◊〉〈◊〉 cōmeth 〈◊〉〈◊〉 memory 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Martyrs 〈◊〉〈◊〉 vs.
• * 1.4

  The world 〈…〉〈…〉 to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 wicked ••••ecially.
• * 1.5

  〈1 paragraph〉〈1 paragraph〉
• * 1.6

  〈…〉〈…〉 be lessons to vs, to plucke vs from ••his world.
• * 1.7

  The great diffe∣rence betweene Christs Martyrs that haue bene, and the lyfe of Christians which now is.
• * 1.8

  The first bring∣ing vp and trade of W. Gardiner.
• * 1.9

  W. Gardiner folowed the trade of mar∣chaundi••e.
• * 1.10

  The Godly dis∣posed minde of W. Gardiner.
• * 1.11

  A solemne ma∣riage betweene the king of Por∣tugals sonne and the Spanish kinges daughter in Portugale.
• * 1.12

  A P••pishe ce∣lebration of a mariage.
• * 1.13

  The Godly zeale of W. Gar∣diner in seing the Idolatry of the people and the great diswor∣ship of God.
• * 1.14

  William Gardi∣ner cleareth his bookes of ac∣comptes.
• * 1.15

  William Gardi∣ner continuing in watching and prayer.
• * 1.16

  William Gardi∣ners aduised preparation to the accomplish∣ment of his pur∣pose.
• * 1.17

  The Cardinall at his Masse.
• * 1.18

  William Gardi∣ner plucketh the Cardinals Idoll out of his hands at Masse as he was leaping a∣bout the Cha∣lice.

  William Gardi∣ner wounded with a dagger.
• * 1.19

  William Gardi∣ner brought be∣fore the king.
• * 1.20

  The 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of William Gardiner before the king.
• * 1.21

  The suspi∣tion of th•• Portugal•• vpon the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of •• Gardiner▪
• * 1.22

  The ans•••••• of Willia•• Gardiner 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 suspition the Port••••gall••.
• * 1.23

  Pendigrace bed••ello•• to W. G••••••diner im∣prisoned vpon 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• * 1.24

  William Gardin•••• chamber searche••
• * 1.25

  The 〈…〉〈…〉 certaine 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ranne 〈◊〉〈◊〉 kinde o•• tormen•• made o•• Brasse 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a Bull 〈◊〉〈◊〉 fire vn∣to torm•••••• such as were 〈◊〉〈◊〉 into it, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 make 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a Bull.
• * 1.26

  Willia•• Gardi•••••• not 〈…〉〈…〉.
• * 1.27

  The right hand of W. Gardiner 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of in the 〈◊〉〈◊〉. The left 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of W. Gardi∣ner cut of in the Market place.
• * 1.28

  The wret∣ched cruel∣•••• of the ••ortugals in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a Christian Martyr.
• * 1.29

  William Gardiner at 〈◊〉〈◊〉 burning 〈…〉〈…〉.
• * 1.30

  W. Gardiner would not pray to our Lady, so long as he had Christ to be his aduocate.

  The prayer of W. Gardiner out of the 43. Psalme.
• * 1.31

  A lesson for the Portugales.
• * 1.32

  The iust hand of God vpon persecuters.
• * 1.33

  It is reported that that sparcle lighted amōgest gunpouder▪
• * 1.34

  The blind and miserable cruel∣ty of the Portu∣gals agaynst a poore Englishe man.

  A Popeholy fast for pacefying the wrath of theyr God of the Al∣tar.