A world of vvonders: or An introduction to a treatise touching the conformitie of ancient and moderne wonders or a preparatiue treatise to the Apologie for Herodotus. The argument whereof is taken from the Apologie for Herodotus written in Latine by Henrie Stephen, and continued here by the author himselfe. Translated out of the best corrected French copie.

THE SECOND PART OF THE PREPARATIVE TREA∣TISE TO THE APOLOGIE FOR HERODOTVS. (Book 2)

The Preface.

I Proceed now to prosecute the second part of this present Apologie. For hauing in the beginning of this Discourse propounded to handle these two things; first the reue∣rend opinion which some had of antiquitie: secondly, the base conceit that others had thereof. And hauing shewed how the former did honour and reuerence it, in regard of the vertuous liues and valorous deeds of their auncestors; and how the latter (on the contrary) had it in high scorne and disdaine, in regard of their rudenesse and simplicitie, I thought it not impertinent (the better to content and satisfie the Reader) to alleadge some few examples, by which he might see, as in a crystal, the particulars which I vndertooke to demonstrate. And hoping I haue suffici∣ently acquit my selfe, touching the former point (as hauing shewed how farre the wickednesse of these times doth exceed and go beyond that of former ages in sundry things) it remaineth I should endeuour the like in the second: which when I shall haue fully finished, I hope I shall haue made a reasonable good pre∣paratiue to the Apologie for Herodotus. But how (may some say) can these par∣ticular instances and allegations sufficiently serue to winne credit and authoritie to Herodotus his history, cōsidering they consist of moderne examples, borrowed partly from this, and partly from the Age last past? Marke therefore my answer, which will further shew the scope which I ayme at. Albeit we find strange stories in Herodotus, which seeme to some altogether incredible, partly because they can∣not conceiue how men should be so notoriously wicked and prophane; partly because it will not sinke into their heads, that euer any were so rude and rusticall: yet I doubt not, but when I shall haue decyphered the villanies of this Age, how transcendēt they are, in comparison of former times; we shal haue iust cause to say, that as we haue seene sundry strange things in this last centenary of the world, which were not knowne nor heard of in the former (much lesse in the ages before) and yet are such as we cannot call into question (except we wil distrust our senses, as hauing bin eare-witnesses and eye-witnesses thereof:) so we are not to thinke but that the age in which Herodotus liued, and the precedent, had some proper and peculiar to themselues, which would not haue bin thought so incredible, had we liued in those dayes. I affirme the like of the second point, assuring my selfe that when I shall haue shewed how those that liued in the age last past, were not

onely simple, but also rude and rusticall in comparison; all men of iudgement wil easily grant, that as we cānot doubt of the rusticitie of our late forefathers, it being so authentically witnessed (though otherwise perhaps it might seem incredible:) so neither are we to thinke but that they which liued so many hundred yeares ago had their clownishnesse proper to themselues, which would not haue bin thought so incredible (as now it is) had we bin their next successors; seeing we might haue had it confirmed by infallible testimonies. Now this argument my purpose is to handle generallie, to the end it may serue as a preparatiue to the Apologie for He∣rodotus, till I haue more time and leisure, as also better meanes and oportunitie to handle it more distinctly, and to find out moderne examples to sute and parallele those which seeme so strange in this our Historian.

2 But what? (may some say) should a man thinke those stories in Herodotus to be incredible, onely in regard of the two former reasons, viz. their notorious vil∣lany, and sottish simplicity? No verily: for many mens incredulity proceeds from a third cause, viz. in that they consider not the great change and alteration which is to be seene almost in euery thing since those times: but would haue the naturall disposition of men in diebus illis, and their course of life so to sute ours, as that they should take pleasure in those things wherein we take pleasure: and contrarily, that whatsoeuer disliketh vs, should haue bin distastfull vnto thē. And (which is more) they would find an agreement and correspondence betweene the estates of anci∣ent kingdomes and common wealths, with those at this day. Nay, some are so in∣considerate in reading of ancient stories, that they measure the climates of forrein and farre remote countries by their owne. No maruell therefore if finding such discord and disagreement in all these things, they iudge auncient stories to be as farre from truth, as the things they reade are differing from those they dayly heare and see. Knowing therefore this to be a third reason why many can hardly sub∣scribe vnto them, I haue reserued for it the third part of this treatise. But I am to intreate thee (gentle Reader) to giue me leaue to omit that for the present, which my occasions will not permit me to annexe, not doubting but I shall giue thee a specimen hereof in the Preface which I am to prefixe before this present worke.

CHAP. XXVII. How some Poets (contrary to the current) haue preferred their owne age before the former, as being much more ciuill, and of farre better grace.

THe sighes of Hesiod, and groanes of Tibullus, vttered in the depth of their discontent, in dislike of the customes and fashions of their times, haue bin sufficiently witnessed before by their verses: where∣in they affirme (as we haue heard) that they had bin happy men, if they had bin borne before: whereas they thought themselues wretched and miserable, in being borne in so bad a time. But what shall we say of those who contrarily thinke themselues happy, in that they were borne in so good a time: good (I say) in regard of the former. For what saith Ouid?

Prisca iuuent alios, ego nunc me denique natum, Gratulor: haec aetas moribus apta meis.

Let others praise the times and things forepast, I ioy my selfe reserued till the last. This age of all doth best my humour fit.

Where though he crosse and contrary Hesiod and Tibullus in his wish and desire, yet he concurres with them in the cause thereof. For the reason which made them wish they had bin borne in some other age, was the exceeding great loosenesse & leudnesse of their owne. On the other side, the reason why Ouid contented himself with his owne, and preferred it before the former, was not because there was lesse wickednesse and impietie, but greater vrbanitie and ciuilitie. For he saith expresly,

Sed quia cultus adest, nec nostros mansit in annos Rusticitas priscis illa superstes auis.

And if I were to prosecute this argument, I might particularize wherein his age was more ciuill then the former, and namely then those which came nearest to that of old dreaming Saturne, as Poets speake. I might also draw out a long thread of a little flaxe, and shew how mens wits haue bin more and more sharpened, re∣fined, and (as it were) sublimated from time to time. Whence it cometh to passe that they haue had a further insight into the workes they tooke in hand, and haue dayly added something vnto them, to perfect and polish them the better, so that antick words and workmanship seeme to be but rude and rusticall in comparison. But if I should further proceed in handling of this argument, I should but intangle my selfe in an endlesse labyrinth: it shall suffice therefore, if (according to my for∣mer promise) I compare the age last past with this wherein we liue: yet not taking vpon me curiously to scan euery point of this comparison; but after I haue hand∣led some of lesse moment, to come to the maine and most materiall point of all, which deserueth a farre more ample and large discourse. Howbeit I am first to per∣forme my former promise, and to alleadge certaine French phrases, whereby we expresse the base conceit we haue of Antiquitie, and that for the same reason for which Ouid saith, Prisca iuuent alios. I say then that besides this French phrase, Fait à l'antique, or fait à la vieille mode, that is, made after the old fashion, by which we signifie a thing to be made rudely or inartificially, (though fait à l'antique be sometimes vsed without scorne or contempt, according as the subiect is whereof we speake) we haue other phrases whereby we declare the conceit which we haue of the rusticitie and clownishnesse of ancient times. For when we say, Cela se faisoit au temps iadis, that is, This was made in old time: our meaning is, that it is out of vse, and quae obsoleuit (as the Latins speake) and such as at this day would seeme but rude and rusticall. But this phrase Du temps des hauts bonnets, that is, when high hats were in vse, or when high bonnets were in request, seemes to haue had his originall from the rude and clownish apparell then in vse, though it specifie but one particular: as if we should say, When men arayed themselues so clownishly, or, when men had not the wit to chuse a fashion fit and easie for them. This likewise is spoken in way of derision, Du temps que les bestes parloyent, In old time when beasts spake: as if we shou••••••y, In old time when there were such sots, that a man might haue perswaded them that beasts could speake. Which is spoken (I take it) in regard of Aesops fables, which were then turned into our mo∣ther tongue. We say also, Du temps qu'on se cachoit pour prester de l'argent: When men hid themselues to lend money: which (though it be spoken in way of derision as the former) is an argument rather of simplicitie then of rusticitie. For they (doubt∣lesse) were very simple, who in stead of lending their mony before witnesses, and taking a bond of their debters before publick notaries (as the maner is now) lent it

in secret; more respecting the borrowers credit, that it might not be knowne he stood in need, then their owne security. And therefore it may well be numbred among the prouerbiall sentences formerly spoken of in the beginning of this trea∣tise, which shew the great good opinion generally conceiued of the fidelitie of men in former times. Besides all which, we haue these three prouerbiall senten∣ces spoken of Kings: Du temps que les Rois se mouchoient à leur manche: that is, When Kings wiped their noses on their sleeues: or, Du temps que les Rois faisoyent de leur manche••vn mouchoir: that is, When Kings made handkerchieues of their sleeues. And, Du temps que les Rois estoyent bergers: that is▪ When Kings were shepheards. And, Auant que les Rois sortissent hors de page: that is, Before that Kings came out of their minoritie. The last of which is in some sort proper to the Kings of France. For King Lewis the eleuenth was the first (as the French story saith) that cashiered the Lord Potectour, and disanulled the law of Minority: shewing his heires and successours how they might commaund Kings, and say, Sic volo, sic iubeo. The first of these, viz. When Kings wiped on their sleeues, is somewhat harsh and lesse in vse: giuing vs to vnderstand, that Kings in old time were so sordid and slouenly, that they would not sticke to play the pranke that children are wont to do when they cannot find their handkerchieues: or because they would make short worke, and not be all the day in blowing their noses. For my part I make no question but that it is an hyperbolicall speech, which I cannot affirme of the second, viz. when Kings were shepheards: and if I should, I might easily be confuted by infi∣nite authorities. True it is indeed, there are few Kings to be found who haue bin shepheards: howbeit many haue bin grasiers, and haue gotten their chiefest wealth and riches thereby. And our historian telleth vs in his eight booke, that though Kings in old time had but small store of mony, yet they had great store of cattle, wherewith they vsed to traffick. Where he also speaketh of a Queene who played the cooke, and wrought pastry worke with her owne hands. How euer it were, we reade of a Cardinall of Auinion who knew well how to make vse of this prouerbe, in answering a King of France like for like. For when the King (seeing the Persian pompe of the Popes Court, and the pride of the Cardinals) asked him whether the Apostles euer went with such a traine after them? he answered, No verily: but you must consider sir (quoth he) that they were Apostles the same time that kings were shepheards.

CHAP. XXVIII. Of the rudenesse and rusticitie of our Ancestors in sundry things.

AS there be some Poets who commend former times, and extoll them to the skies, in the meane time speaking basely of their owne; and others contrarily who (in other respects) make greater recko∣ning of their owne age then of the former: so we cannot but heare how old men praise the good dayes and times which they had in their youth, in comparison of the present: whereas the yonger sort make no ac∣count of any age but of their owne. Now if we consider the reasons which mo∣ued them to thinke and speake in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sort, we shall find that they did it vpon the same ground and for the same consideration. For as they who so highly honored

and extolled antiquitie, did it in regard of vertue and valour, then farre greater without comparison, then at this day; and they on the contrary which had it in such contempt, did scorne it in regard of the rudenesse and rusticitie which then raigned: so (doubtlesse) the thing for which old men either do or can with any colour preferre times past before the present, is the simplicitie and fidelity of those times. Whereas youth at this day esteeme rather their owne age then any other, for that they see greater cunning and dexteritie, and a more ciuill and vrbane kind of life. So that if any shall say, that when old men speake of the good times which they haue seene, they vnderstand it not onely in regard of that honest, simple and plaine dealing which was then vsed, but in other respects also, I will not greatly contend; so they grant withall, that they did it principally in that regard. For when Horace (describing the qualities of an old man) saith that he is

—Laudator temporis acti, Se puero▪ censor, castigator{que} minorum.

That is,

Of his yong times a man of large report, A sharpe controller of the yonger sort.

His meaning (no doubt) is to signifie the vsuall speech of old men, viz. that all things stood in better termes in their yonger yeares: and that there was not such excesse and riot in the world as is to be seene at this day. Which they speake as be∣ing of opinion that the world waxeth dayly worse and worse: and hereupon wold rule and square, not onely the manners, but also the actions of the yonger sort ac∣cordingly. For if an old man speake of the youth of these times, he will tell you that it is no wonder to see so many mischiefes raging in the world, and that we are not to looke for such golden dayes as he hath seene; the world being cleane changed and turned vp side downe, so that he can hardly remember what he hath seene. And he will especially inuey and declaime against pompe and brauery in apparell, and delicate fa••e▪ which he will affirme to be farre greater now then it was in times past; and that it is the cause of the dearth and scarcitie we now see: as also of many outrages and misdemeanours, and that it maketh men more effeminate. Nay they proceed sometime further, in making the youth of those times petty Saints, when they say (as the author of the Courtier doth relate it with excellent good grace) Io haueua vent' anni che ancor dormiua con mia madre, & mie sorelle: ne seppi iui à gran••tempo che cosa fossero donne: & hora fanciulli non hāno à pena asciutto il capo, che sanno piu malitie che in que tempi non sappeano gli homini fatti. That is: I lay with my mother and sisters till I was twenty yeare old, and knew not of a long time what manner of creature a woman was: whereas children now scarce crept out of the cradle, know mo knacks of knauery then men of yeares did in times past. Now as old men exceed the bounds of truth, by running so far into one extreme: so shall we likewise, if we deny that they had not reason to complaine of a bad change, the world still declining from better to worse. To conclude then, we will easily graunt these gray beards, that in their yonger yeares the world was not so wicked: so that they yeeld to our greene heads, that it was more rude and rustical; and that it was not so wittie, because it was not so wicked.

2 But lest they should say that my tongue runneth at randon: I will instance it by examples. And because there is nothing, which we make greater account of, or iudge more necessary for our bodies, then foode to nourish them, and raiment to cloth them; and therefore are not onely carefull but euen 〈…〉〈…〉 prouiding such necessaries: I wil enter discourse of them in the first place•• ••ouching the first,

therefore (because I take it for a confessed truth, that our ancestors neuer shewed themselues more curious in their diet, then many countreyes at this day,) I shall desire the reader not to take it amisse, if I compare some of their customes and fa∣shions, with those in vse at this present. And first I will beginne with one which is so common and ordinary, that children of tenne or twelue yeares of age may well remember it: and if I shold say that it were yet practised in some places of France, I should not (it may be) speake without my booke. It is a foolish custome taken vp by certaine gentlemen, who to the end they may cunningly deceiue and finely fetch ouer their seruants, cause their table to be furnished at the first seruice, with I know not what fryed fritters, hotchpotches, sippets, sauces, and gallymalfrayes: and then with store of Mutton, Veale, and boūsing peeces of Beefe, which peeces of Beefe they will rather feed vpon, then vpon any other dish. And after that the stomacke hath reuenged his quarrell vpon such grosse meates, they serue in Ca∣pon, Chicken, Pigeon, and wild foule. Yet not all in one course: for they keepe Partridge, Phaysant and other dainties, for the last seruice; the stomacke being not onely satisfied, but euen closed vp. So that it is great pittie to see how the seruitors (poore soules) are glad to eate such meates, as their stomackes were neuer accusto∣med vnto, and to leaue their ordinary fare for their masters and mistresses. I mean how they are to take the paines to eate the finer meates, as wild foule, and venai∣son, and to leaue the grosser for them. What then can the old man answer, Lauda∣tor tēporis acti se puero? Or what can he say (trow we) to defend or excuse the rusti∣city of former times? (for in that I call those that vsed this seemely seruice, but rude and rusticall, I fauour them much.) And were it not that I am afraid I should be ouer troublesome, I would gladly aske them yet another question, touching Partridge, & such like foule, viz. Whether those men had noses or not? and if they had, what noses they were, when they could find no goodnesse in wild foule, and venaison, except it were tainted a litle, that is, (to speake plaine English) except it stunke a little, this stincke seeming to them to be 〈…〉〈…〉 of venaison?

3 But now to proceed to the fashions of other countryes, which haue bene (perhaps) practised alike by our ancestors, as hath bene said. Albeit then there be no French-man to be found at this day, if he be of the right stamp, and haue wher∣with to maintain himself, who hath so bad a tast, but can put a difference between tender and tough flesh: yet it were a wonder (I had almost said a miracle) to see a German who neuer trauailed abroad, that either obserued or cared to obserue this difference. For example, Ne gallina malum responset dura palato, as Horace speaketh: that is, lest the pullets flesh should be ouer tough, and vnpleasant to the tast, the Frenchman who hath no leasure to kill it a day or two before, that it may wax ten∣der of it selfe, will haue twenty deuises besides those mentioned in Horace. But when he shall leaue France his natiue countrey, and come into Germanie, he will not a little wonder to see a pullet (or some cocke of the game, for want of a better) serued to the table, which he had heard crowing in the court but halfe an houre before: which shalbe killed, plumed, and boiled, al in the sodainnesse of an instant. If our ancestors then (not to speake of Germans) haue done the like, may we not truly say that they were very rude and rusticall? Except some proctor shall haply plead for them, and tell vs that their stomackes were hotter then ours; so that they could disgest meate halfe raw, as well as we can flesh thorowly rosted, boiled, or baked. But Phisitians, which liued in those dayes, witnes the contrary. This there∣fore may serue for an instance of cookerie or dressing of meates. Let vs see another in the choise of them: choice I say, not of diuers sorts of meates, but of the same

kind. And here (doubtlesse) we shall find many masters, whom Galen might as wel laugh at, as he did at those suiters which courted Penelope (as Homer recordeth) for eating the great villanous swine, and leauing the yong pigs for their seruants. For considering the common saying in euery mans mouth, Yong flesh, and old fish: had not our auncestors small wit (in comparison) to eate the old dam, and to leaue the yong? to eate the old Partridge and to leaue the brood? to eate the old Hare, and not so much as once to touch the leuerets? Notwithstanding whatsoeuer can be spoken of our forefathers in this behalfe, may truly be affirmed of many countries at this day. For when I was at Venice I heard certaine noble men affirme, that they had learned of the French Kings Embassadour sent to the State, that young par∣tridges and leuerets were very good meate. And I remember, the Lord Conrade Resch told me, how that being at Basil, and demaunded by certaine Switzers what he would do with those leuerets which were brought him for a present; answered that he would make distilled water for the gout: which they (simple soules) did ve∣rily beleeue. I might here also speake of the 〈◊〉〈◊〉-like rusticks, who taking pigs eares and pigs skins, the rumpe, pinion▪ and neck of geese, (which Frenchmen call la petite oye, the goose giblet) as also calues and sheeps feet, with capons liuers, and such like garbage; of all these put together, make a hotchpotch or gallimalfray: wronging themselues as well in this as in other things. But if I should enter dis∣course hereof, I doubt I should not be beleeued: and I feare me this argument would be thought too homely and base, and so would derogate from the graue and serious matters contained in this booke.

4 To come therefore to the rusticitie which our ancestors bewrayed in their apparell, of which the pictures and statues yet extant, do giue sufficient testimo∣ny. Were it not a goodly sight to see a man bigguined with a hood vpon his head, like a great flasket, and a string vnder the chin: (a fashion not yet altogether worne out of vse:) or one with a high hat like a spire steeple, or like a Turkish * 1.1 turbant, or a crosse-bow, or a Switzers swearing swaggering cap; of that bignesse, that of so much cloth a man might make (as the fashion is now) three or foure? Were it not (I beseech you) a seemly sight to see the fine feature of my finicall fellow & gentle Iack braggard, when he hath put on his iacket reaching a full handfull below his knees, being of that size that a man might make a cassock and a paire of bases of it, or a great riding hood after the Spanish fashion? And were it not as goodly a sight to see, not onely all his neck, but often all the vpper parts of his shoulders and his brest also bare by reason of his fond fantasticall apparel indented like a half Moon? And as for women, had not Madame N. * 1.2 à la grand gorre (as Preachers in those dayes were wont to speake) a very good grace, when she had her gowne on, the very sleeues whereof were large enough to make a whole one? And was it not as goodly a sight to see their long tailes tucked vp, or trailing along, and sweeping the Church as they went? And if we speake of base botchery, were it a comely thing to see a great Lord or a King weare sleeues of two parishes, one halfe of woosted, the other of veluet? or a dublet of three parishes, the backe and forepart of halfe woosted, the vpper part of the sleeue of skin, and that toward the hand of veluet? True it is indeed, the forebody had a guard of veluet of some two fingers broade, which because it had neuer a whit on the back, was called Nichil au dos, a word which hath gone currant in many mens mouthes, who vnderstanding not the o∣riginall thereof, haue pronounced it Nichilodo, and applied it generally to all such things whose inside is not answerable to the outside, though especially to apparel: as at this day those peticoates or saueguards which haue only the forepart of stuffe

and the rest of linnen cloth, or such like, (as some gentlewomen vse to weare) may in this sence be called peticoates à la nichilodo. But, as it were to be wished that this were our gentlewomens worst huswifery; so we must needs grant, that (consi∣dering those times) there was no great hurt in such botchery. In speaking whereof I haue extended my discourse as farre as Ouid hath done his, in his verses formerly alleadged; where he doth not onely affirme that his age brought vp a more ciuill cariage and course of life, but euen court-like and magnificent in outward com∣portment, such as was not to be seene in former time; as indeed they go hand in hand, for the most part. Notwithstanding we are not ignorant how many mis∣chiefes and miseries attend vpon brauery, and what benefit hath accrewed to the weale publike by meanes of frugalitie. We reade in the French story how certaine of the Nobility of France sent two messengers to king Charles the sixt, to informe him of the change and alteration that had bin in the state since the dayes of his fa∣ther Charles the fift; among other things, how much the expences of his house ex∣ceeded his fathers expences: but the maine matter for which they complained, was, for that the Chācelor had spent twenty pounds in apparel in one yeare, which he had purloyned out of the kings treasure: which was iudged so hainous an of∣fence, that he fearing to vndergo the penalty, was glad to flie his country. I leaue it therefore to thy iudgement (gentle Reader) to consider how much the world is growne more miserable at this day, with all his pompe and prodigality, then it was in former time with all his frugalitie. For it is now come to this passe, that a paltry companion will not sticke to bestow ten pounds (or very neare) vpon one onely paire of bre••ches. Notwithstanding if all things be duly considered, it may wel be doubted whether that which is called botchery, may fitly be termed frugalitie or not, seeing that when they would not be at the cost to weare sleeues of veluet, they made farre more vaine and needlesse expences.

5 Concerning the attiring & trimming of the body, was it not a goodly sight to see a man with a close shauen beard, weare a great perriwig, bien esperlucat, that is, finely frezled? for that is the word which was then in vse, and is to be found e∣uen in Menot himselfe, in stead of the Latin word calamistratus. And so in the rime made by a bon compagnon, long before Menots time, we reade these verses,

Plus fringant & esperlucat, Et cent fois plus gay que Perot, O•• le valet d'vn Auocat.

That is,

More spruce and nimble, and more gay to seene, Then some Atturneys Clarke▪ or George a Greene.

And how should we excuse their rudenesse & simplicitie, in taking such paines to nourish that which putteth thē to greater? For who is so simple, that knoweth not, I say not the inconueniences, but the diseases which are caused by these long perri∣wigs? And yet some there are who take a pleasure and pride in them. But whether a beard become a man well or not, I appeale to those who are as much ashamed of themselues that they haue none, as a dog that hath lost his taile. For proofe wherof I report my selfe to these verses:

—Turpis sine frondibus arbor, Turpis equus nisi colla iuba flauentia velent: Pluma tegit volucres, ouibus sua lana decor•• est, Barba viros, hirt••{que} decent in corpore setae.

Notwithstanding all this, the poore Crucifixes then in vse, were constrained to ac∣commodate

themselues to the humors of those times. For falling into the hands of such as wore their beards shauen, there was no remedie, they must haue their beards shauen in like manner. And meeting with other good fellowes, who chose rather to weare a tuft or two in stee•• of a beard, they also must haue the like. Whereas being in those countreys where men vse to weare their beards tyed to their girdles, or reaching down to their knees, they must of necessity follow the fashion, though sore (God knowes) against their wils. For euery man would haue his Crucifix hold that fashion comly, which himselfe thought comly. This is the reason of the sundry sorts of Crucifixes that are to be seene at this day.

6 But let me not forget their manner of building whereby they depriued themselues almost of all those commodities, which we desire to haue (and that not without iust cause) in our buildings: and I had almost said, that they imprisoned themselues in their houses, in making them like prisons or dungeons. For whereas they cared not what their buildings were, so that they had thicke and strong wals, in the meane time th••y depriued themselues of the benefit of the light, for want of wit to make such windowes as are in vse at this day. Besides, they made them strait and narrow, whereas they might haue made them large and broad: and with ma∣ny holes like rats nests, in steed of a number of lightsome, large and pleasant lights: and to foresee that one house might not ouertop or drop vpō another, or that their neighbours might not ouerlooke them, was a thing nothing regarded. And tou∣ching the house which cannot so honestly be named as it is necessarily vsed, they haue not followed nature, in setting it in a fit place. For whereas nature hath re∣moued the basest and most vnseemly parts of the body furthest from the sight & smell; they contrarily set it to the open view, of purpose (as it were) to be seene.

7 And when we compare the workemanship vsed in old time, with that which is to be seene at this day, can we say that those artisans had any wit in their heads? For who so shall marke the fairest cupboord or bedstead made in those dayes, will (doubtlesse) iudge it to be rather Carpenters then Ioyne•• worke. And he that shall obserue their Iron works which are to be seene in cupboords, chests, or dores, may well doubt whether lockesmithes in former time vsed files or not, or rather what fashioned files they had. For we may well perceiue, they haue bene filed, yet nothing so smoothly and artificially as at this day. True it is indeed (to make amends for this defect) they were no niggards in bestowing cost vpon their worke; I meane in enriching it with compartements and such like ornaments, though neither barrell better Herring. This I must need•• say, that whereas men are now a dayes very sparing in bestowing cost vpon their buildings: they thē lauish∣ed it out (as it were) for the heauens, as if it had cost them nothing. Witnesse the harnesse then in vse, which was so ponderous, that a man hauing it vpon his back, was vnfit almost for any seruice: wheras it is now not halfe so weighty, and yet of pistol proof. The like may be said of murrions or head peeces; I mean such harnesse and headpeeces, as were made since the inuention of harquebuzes: for before the inuention of guns, men contented themselues, if they had them of the thicknesse of iron plates. And to speake somewhat of our common and ordinary weapons, would not one of their swords make three of ours? And are there not some swords to be seene, the very handle of one of which is heauier then any two vsed at this day, blade and all? which notwithstanding are both easier for cariage, and more commodious for defence.

8 And what shall we say of the phrase & manner of pronuntiation vsed by our ancestors? what eares had they (may we think) who could with patientce en∣dure

to heare Mon frere Piarre, my brother Pete••? Mō frere Robart, my brother Robart, La place Maubart, The place Maubart? And yet the French Poet Villon (one that writ as eloquently as any in those dayes) speaketh so. This may serue for an in∣stance of their Dorick dialect in taking delight to speake broadly, much like the Dorians among the Grecians, and the Sauoyards among the French. There are ano∣ther sort of simper-de-cockets, who counterfet puppets, in speaking so finely that they wil scarce open their mouthes; for making conscience to say François, Anglois, they say Francés, Anglés. Nay, there are some Courtiers which affect this nice pro∣nunciation, following certain fine mincing minions rather then reason. For certes this prety kind of puppet-parley was first taken vp by women, who feared to open their mouthes too wide in saying François, Anglois. How euer it be, I perswade my selfe, that neither they nor their followers are able to giue any better reason of this their pronunciation, then the gentlewoman of Sauoy could giue of her singing magnificet in stead of magnificat; who thought by this meanes to shun the fault of her country dialect in pronouncing A in stead of E. Neither can these fine finicall affecters alleadge the Italian tongue (which saith Francese & Francesi) to warrant their pronunciation: except they will do this wrong to their owne language, to say that it hath borrowed from the Italian. Italians indeed vse to say Inglese and In∣glesi; but herein doubtlesse they imitate vs, as not being able to iudge whether we speake well or ill, purely or corruptly.

9 Further, our auncestors haue bin as grosse and absurd in their words and phrases, as in any of the premises. And verily considering the notorious absurdities committed at this day by such as will needs be too fine in their affected phrases (or rather foolishly finicall) they seeme to me very pardonable. For we haue so purged and pruned the dead and rotten branches from the tree of the old French tongue, that we haue lopped off the good together with the bad. And then like bad hus∣bands haue gone a begging (or borrowing) that of our neighbours which we had growing in our owne orchyards (yea better then they had any) if we would haue taken the pains to haue sought it out: as I haue shewed more at large in my Con∣formitie of the French tongue with the Greeke.

10 And how cunning and expert they were in making fine and well framed orations in their grosse gibbridge, may appeare by the stories of those times. As for their rimes (I meane their rythmes) it is a world to see how rude and rusticall they were. For they neither cared for rime nor reason, neither regarded they how hoblingly they ranne, seeing they neuer respected the number of feet: which is the lesse to be wondered at, considering that Marot himselfe in his first Poems, playd the rimester at all aduenture, knowing neither section nor caesure, nor yet obser∣uing the difference betweene E masculine and E feminine. And verily most of the rimes clouted together (I cannot say composed) in ancient time, seem to haue bin made of purpose to moue laughter, those especially which are of this straine:

Priez pour Martin Preudom, Qui a fait faire ceste vie, Que Di••u•••••• face pardon, En rime & en tapisserie.

That is,

All good folke pray world without end, For Martin Preudom that made this legend: That he of God moght pardon'd be, Both in good rime and tapistrie▪

For the author of this goodly * 1.3 tetrastich, was so simple, that he thought his strai∣ning of himselfe to make rime doggrell, would be a sufficient excuse for him, though he spake ridiculously and without reason, viz. that God would pardon him in rime and tapistrie. Another old Elderton and right baladin-rimester made no bones to conclude an Epitaph in this sort:

Et mourut quatre cens & neuf, Tout plein de vertu comme vn oeuf.

That is,

And dy'de in the yeare foure hundreth and nine, Full (as an egge) of grace diuine.

The like good grace had most of their Latin rimes, especially their Epitaphs, as namely this which followeth:

Qui iacet intus, Fuit Carolus Quintus: Dic pro illo bis vel ter, Aue Maria, & Pater noster.

But it is now high time we should speake of their rudenesse in matters of greater consequence, namely in the maine point mentioned before, which is the saluation of mens soules.

CHAP. XXIX. Of the grosse and blockish ignorance of the Popish Cleargie, especially of the Masse-priests.

IN the former Chapter we might plainly see the grosse and palpa∣ble ignorance of the former Age. Notwithstanding though it had bene ten times greater then it was (if it had bene possible,) yet so long as the Cleargy had not their parts therein, in being as blind bayards as the rest, the poore peoples case had not bene halfe so la∣mentable: whereas the most brutish and blockish ignorance was to be found in Friers cowles, especially in the Masse-monging priests. Which we are the lesse to wonder at, considering that which Men••t twits them in the teeth withall, that in stead of bookes, there was nothing to be found in their chambers but a sword, or a long bow, or a crosbow, or some such weapon. Sed nunc (saith he) quid in ca∣meris Sacerdotum reperietis? An expositionem Epistolarum, aut Postillam super Euan∣gelia? Non: Faceret eis malum in capite magister Nicolaus de Lyra. Quid ergo? Vnum arcum, vel balistam, spatham, aut aliud genus armorum. But how could they send ad ordos such ignorant asses? You must note (Sir) that they which examined them were as wise woodcocks as themselues, and therefore iudged of them as pen-men of pike-men, and blind men of colours. Or were it that they had so much learning in their budgets, as that they could make a shift to know their insufficiency; yet to pleasure those that recommended them, they suffered them to passe. One is fa∣mous among the rest, who being asked by the Bishop sitting at the table, Es tu dig∣nus? answered, No my Lord: but I shal dine anon with your men. For he thought that dignus (that is worthy) had signified to dine. It is reported also of another, who going to the Bishop for his orders, and being asked this question (to try his lear∣ning and sufficiency) Who was father to the foure sonnes of Aymond? and know∣ing

not what to answer, was refused as insufficient. Who returning home againe, and shewing the reason why he was not priested; his father told him that he was a very asse, that could not tell who was father to the foure sonnes of Aymond. See I pray thee (quoth he) yonder is great Iohn the smith, who hath foure sonnes: if a man should aske thee, who is their father, wouldst thou not say that it were great Iohn the smith? Yes (quoth he) now I vnderstand it wel. Thereupon he went againe, as hauing learned his lesson better. And being asked the second time who was father to the foure sonnes of Aymond, answered, that it was great Iohn the smith. Many such pleasant questions were asked them for sport and pastime sake, & to make my Lord Bishop merry (who sate by;) as also to take triall of thē, whe∣ther they were plaine noddies and cockscombs or not. As when one being asked what was the daintiest morsell in a pig, and hauing answered that it was the pigs coate; for this so good and fit an answer was thought worthy to haue the order of priesthood. Whereas another (which came after) being demaunded what was the best bit in a calfe, and hauing answered that it was the skinne (for he thought he wold be sure to answer as the former had done) was holden vnworthy to be made a parish Priest, as hauing made a caluish answer; thereby shewing that he had not wit enough to be of that trade.

2 But I am ashamed to employ my pen and paines about such sottish questi∣ons as were asked them, to try whether they were bons compagnons or not: asked (I say) onely pro forma, to the end they might say they had bin examined. Now if there be any so hard of beliefe as wil not credit it, I shal desire him to consider how euer it was possible to get from these Priests (which were as blind as beetles) a per∣tinent answer to any demaund touching their place and office: I meane the office into which they most of all desired to be inuested. How blind and ignorant were they? (may some say.) Surely so blind that they could hardly see to reade. And if this shall seeme yet more incredible, I referre my selfe to their Canon law, where it is recorded that a Priest baptizing a child vpon a time, vsed these words: Baptiz•• te in nomine patria, & filia, & spiritua sancta. But because it is a very memorable fact I will set downe the words at large. Marke then what is recorded word for word in the third part of the Decrees De consecr. dist. 4. canone 84. Zacharias Papa Bonifa∣cio Episcopo: Retulerunt mihi nuntij tui quòd fuit sacerdos in eadem prouincia, qui Lati∣nam linguam penitus ignorabat, & dum baptizaret, nescius Latini eloquij, infringens linguam, diceret, Baptizo te in nomine patria, & filia, & spiritua sancta: & per hoc tua reuerenda sanctit••s considerauit eos rebaptizare: sed sanctissime Frater, si ille qui bapti∣zauit, non errorē inducens, vel haeresin, sed pro sola ignorantia Romanae locutionis, infrin∣gendo linguam (vt suprà diximus) baptizans dixisset, non possumus consentire vt denuò baptizetur. Which Canon hath done Peter Lombard knights seruice; for it hath ser∣ued his turne excellently well: Lib. 4. sen. dist. 6. For, for a full and finall resolution of this question, Si baptismus sit verbis corruptè prolatis▪ he alleadgeth nothing but this Canon. Quaeri etiam solet (saith he) si corruptè proferantur verba illa, an baptis∣mus sit? De hoc Zacharias Bonifacio scribit. Retulerunt, &c. For my part, I remem∣ber well I haue heard some Priests administring baptisme say Abrinuncio, in stead of Abrenuncio. And in consecrating (as they speake) hoc est corpum meum.

3 But some aduocate may haply stand vp in defence of them, and say, that all of them neither are nor haue bin so ignorant, but that there are some which are but simple priests, who can not only legere vt Clerici, that is, readily and distinctly, but also vnderstand what they reade. I grant indeed that all are not such ignorant asses: but this I say, that the most ignorant are least dangerous. For proofe hereof:

who corrupted the text of the new Testament, but they that had a little smattering in learning? Who was he that corrected the place in S. Luke, which speaketh of a womā who hauing lost a groat, swept the house to find it? Who put euertit domū, she ouerturned the house, in stead of euerrit domū, she swept the house? but he who had read ouer so many classicke authors, that in some blind corner he met with euertit in stead of euerrit. They haue also serued the place in the Acts of the Apostles with the same sawce. For in stead of demissus per sportam, they haue put demissus per por∣tam. In honour of which correction, these foure verses were made by one that heard a Popish preacher follow that translation in his Sermon:

Par ici passa deuant hier Vn tres-notable charpentier, Qui besongn•• de telle sorte, Que d'vn panier fit vne porte.

That is,

This way the other day did passe, A iolly Carpenter as euer was: So strangely skilfull in his trade, That of a basket a doore he made.

4 There be sundry other places corrupted after the same manner, in the first impression of the old translation. And I remember a Printer was in danger to fry a fagot for putting euerrit into the text in stead of euertit. And as for sundry words of the New Testament, they haue either changed their writing and orthography, or at leastwise their signification, in framing vnto them significations according to their owne coniecturall imaginations. As in the place of Saint Paule, in stead of haereticum deuita, that is, Shunne or auoide an hereticke: they (like profoūd diuines) haue diuined the sense to be this, Put an heriticke to death. Yet all this is nothing to the interpretation of this place, Inuenimus Messiam. Iohn. 1. We haue found the Masse. Nor of this, Signa autem eos qui crediderint, haec sequentur &c. Signe them with the signe of the Crosse, &c. Amongst which braue interpretations, this may not be for∣gotten which was made by a Curat of Artois, who suing his parishioners for not repairing the Church, and namely for not pauing it, tooke the 17. chapter of the Prophet Ieremie for his aduocate to pleade for him, where it is said, Paueant illi & non paueam ego, &c. Whereas (quoth he) Ieremie saith expresly, Let them paue it, and not I, doth he not giue you to vnderstand, that it belongs not to the Curate to paue the Church, but to the parishioners? But what shall we say to this interpretation, Confitemini alterutrum, Confesse your selues to the priest? For here I cannot see how the Latine word soundeth any thing neare to the English, as in the former. And veri∣ly I do heare ingeniously confesse my ignorance, that I know not how such in∣terpretations could euer come into their heads.

5 But hauing discoursed sufficiently of simple Priests or monkes; let vs in the next place come to Prelats; who (doubtles) haue seconded the single soled Priests: witnes that profound clerk, who hearing some alleadge certain lawes called Clemē∣tina & Nouella, fell into a pelting chafe, for that they vrged him with the testimony of whores, and harlots. And as for Prat the Chancellor of France (if I may speake of him without offence, considering he was a clergy man in his dayes) he shewed he had some learning, though no more then would serue his turne; when hauing read the letter which king Henrie the eight had sent to the French king Francis the first, wherein this clause was: Mitto tibi duodecim molossos: I send you twelue ma∣stiue dogs; he expounded it, I send you a dozen mules. And being confident in this

interpretation, went (accompanied with another noble man) to the king, reque∣sting his highnesse to bestow vpon him the present which the king of England had sent him. The king (who as yet ••ad heard nothing of this present) maruailed that Mules shold be sent him out of England, affirming that it was a rare nouelty indeed; and being desirous to see the letter, (〈◊〉〈◊〉 that others also might reade it,) they found them to be duodecim molossos, twelue mastiue dogs. Wherupon the Chā∣cellour seeing himselfe made a laughing-stocke (and you may well imagine how) found out a starting hole, which notwithstanding made him more ridiculous thē before: for he said he had mistaken the word, in taking mol••ssos for muletos.

6 And lest any should take exception against their Latine for want of con∣gruitie, let him know that herein they are dispensed with by their father S. Grego∣rie, who saith, Non debent verb•• caelestis oraculi subesse regulis Donati. And therefore one of the foresaid Preachers was greatly to blame, to lay this in the Priests dish, that they vnderstood not their Donate. And he that should vrge them to render a reason of their pronuntiation, shold presse them too far, and sift them too narrow∣ly. And I perswade my selfe, it was the least part of Saint Gregories meaning, that euer they should trouble their heads about it. For he thought their masse was as effectuall with Dominu vobiscon, as with Dominus vobiscum, and Peronnia saecula, as Per omnia saecula; which maketh me lesse to wonder that a Channon should be called into question, because he would be singular and haue his pronuntiation a∣part by himselfe, in saying Per omnia saecula. They found fault also with those that pronounced Kyrie eleison, in stead of Kyrieleison, as by and by we shall heare.

7 And as for the Greeke, you must pardon them, though they vnderstand not one iot; seeing greater Clearkes then they (I wisse) haue not bene ashamed to say, Graecum est, non legitur: & Transeat, Graecum est. And if any man accoūt this their ig∣norāce an euil thing, let him take this withal (for it may be truly affirmed) that this euill is the cause of some good. For by this meanes the number of men and wo∣men Saints hath bene increased. Saint Lonchi (otherwise called Longi) may testi∣fie for men Saints: and Saint Typhaine for women saints; for this Saints name co∣meth of the Greeke word 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 signifying a lance, or speare (albeit it was long since giuen to him that pierced our Sauiors side with a speare. And the name of the wo∣man Saint, viz. Typhaine, cometh of the greeke word 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 (as a man would say, The appearing of God.) And as true it is likewise on the contrary, that this ignorance hath augmented the number of diuels. For of Macrobius and such like names, they haue coined new names of diuels. But as for poore Malchus (who had his eare cut off, and afterward his name taken from him, and giuen to a kind of sword) I wil leaue him to pleade his own cause, lest it should be said, that I were the Iewes aduocate. Besides, there is another benefit which accrewes to the Church by this meanes. For their ignorance in not vnderstanding the true and proper Etymolo∣gies of Greeke words, no not so much as whether they were Greeke words or not, hath made them ••••ke out many subtil notations which otherwise had neuer bene dreamed of. For example, if it had bene knowne, that presbyter had bene all one with 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, an old man; certes, they wold neuer haue dreamed of the Etymolo∣gie which we find in the booke called Stella Clericorum, in the chapter beginning Quos ergo praelati & presbyteri, &c. viz. presbyter dicitur quasi praebens iter. And (as some wits are quicker and sharper then others, besides, Facile est addere inuentis) they haue not staied here, but haue found out a more subtil notation, namely this, Presbyter quasi prae aliis bibens ter. Albeit this, I must needs confesse, is not so gene∣rally receiued. The like may be said of the word Diabolus, that is, Diuell. For had

they knowne that 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 had signified a standerer, or backbiter, we had bin yet to seeke for this Etymologie proceeding from a most profound and deepe specu∣lation, Diabolus▪ ex dia, quod est duo: & bolus, id est, morcellus. Quasi faciens duos bolos, de corpore & anima: that is, This word Diabolus cometh of dia▪ which signifieth two, and bolus a morcel; as making but two morcels of a man; one of his body, another of his soule. And this (as I remember) is the Etymology giuen by Hugo Carrensis, but followed by the foresaid preachers, and namely by Oliuer Maillard. fol. 176. col. 2.

8 Moreouer, if we pardon them the ignorance of the Greeke tongue, there is greater reason we should pardon their ignorance of the Hebrew, considering it hath (as we know) bene alwayes lesse common. And we must remember withall, that it hath bene as a whetstone to sharpen the wits of many doctors, to finde out plea∣sant Etymologies and to draw them out of the very words themselues. Thus we reade that the name Iesus hath two sillables, which signifie the two natures of Christ: it hath further, fiue letters, three vowels, and two consonants, the three vo∣wels signifying the Trinitie, the two consonants the two substances of Christs humanity, his body and soule; which subtil speculation is taken out of the book of conformities of Saint Francis with Christ fol. 193. where Pope Innocentius in his Sermons is said to be the author of it. But what? shall we say nothing of the notati∣on of Cephas? which they haue made Greeke, Latine, French; rather then either E∣brew, or Syriacke. Let vs here what Baralete saith to proue that Saint Peter ought to be preferred before S. Paul▪ Quod ad praelationem verò, Petrus est maior quàm Paulus, quia Papa maior est quā Legatus. Petrus fuit vniuersalis Christi Vicarius, cui dixit Chri∣stus, tu es Petrus, tu es Simon: tu vocaberis Cephas, quod Gracè dicitur maior & primus, quià scilicet fuit Papa. As for those who maintaine (for proofe hereof) that it was a French word which our Sauiour then vsed (because Chef in French, is as much as head in English, or Chieftaine and principall commander in any enterprise or employment) they haue gone cleane against the haire. For they might with grea∣ter reason haue fetched it from the Greeke (if they had vnderstood it) in cutting off the two last syllables from 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, whēce the French borowed their word Chef.

9 See here (gentle Reader) how they played and sported themselues with the interpretation of Greek, and Ebrew words in the Bible. And seeing the Greek and Ebrew tongues are further remote from the common vse; no maruell if they which were offended with the Channon for pronouncing per omnia and not pe∣ronnia (so offended I say, as that they were ready to haue had him into the Court) would haue bene much more offended if they had heard him pronounce Kyrie eleison in stead of Kyrieleison; especially if they had heard him say Allelulah (ma∣king therein an I consonant) in stead of their Alleluya. For whereas they said that this his pronunciation made them suspect him of Lutheranisme, it was because he maintaining it to be good, alleadged certaine reasons whereby he gaue suffici∣ent testimony that he had studied the Greeke and Latin tongue, which this long time haue bene thought to infect men with Lutheranisme and heresie. Wit∣nesse our good Maister Beda who in the presence of king Francis the first, obiected to the late William Bude (who laboured by all meanes to hold the king in his good resolution, and to draw him on to a greater forwardnes, for the establishing of the professors of those languages) that the Hebrew and Greeke would be the foun∣taine of many heresies. But Bude stoutly withstood the foresaid Beda, prouing him forthwith to be but a bedlam, and that it wa•• not for him to iudge of such things, wherof he had no more knowledge then a blind man of colours. And so the kings most godly enterprise was happily atcheeued in despite of Beda, and to the great infamy of him and his fusty fellows, as also to the great contentation and singular

honor as well of the King as of Bude. And (no doubt) if these iolly Rabbins which withstood this good motion, durst haue spoken the truth, they would haue con∣fessed that which a French Poet shortly after did finely flap them in the mouth withall, that it was to be feared lest the Latine, Greeke and Ebrew would (in the end) lay open all their trumperies.

CHAP. XXX. How our ancestors suffered the holy Scriptures to be buried in an vnknowne tongue, and corrupted by false glosses and interpretations.

AMong the things which posterity wil hardly be brought to beleeue, this (doubtles) wil be none of the least, that our ancestors shold not be permitted to reade the Scriptures. I thought it therefore not im∣pertinent to say somthing of this argument, the better to satisfie the simple sort, who may well wonder how men could euer lend their eares to such dreams and dotages, farlies and fooleries, as we haue spoken of in part already, and are to speake more at large hereafter, considering they agree no better then harpe and harrow. Let posteritie therfore know, that the state of the Church stood in such termes within these thirty yeares, that he that had read the Scripture in his mother tong, was in as great danger of the burning chamber, and had as great need to hide his head, as if he had bin a false coyner, or had committed some grea∣ter offence. For he that was found reading the Bible, or had it onely in his house, was sure to fry a fagot; especially if he did answer to such interrogatories as should be ministred vnto him accordingly. Which rigorous dealing is witnessed by sun∣dry sorrowfull songs and dolefull madrigals, published about that time, albeit without the authors names. Of which argument also there was one made Anno 1544. beginning thus,

Vous per dez temps, de me vouloir defendre D'es••udier en la saincte Escriture. Plus m'en blasmez, plus m'en voulez reprendre, Plus m'esiouit, plus me plaist la lecture. Ce que Dieu nous commande Faut-il qu'on le defende Par tourmens & menaces? Cessez vos gra•••• auda••es. Que l'Eternel ne bransle sa main dextre, Pour vous monstrer que lui seul est le maistre.

That is,

Ye lose your time that would for fend mine eyes The reading of the sacred histories. The more ye blame me for so blessed deed, The more I list, and more I like to reade. What God himselfe directly shall command, Shall ye with threats and torments dare withstand? Leaue off your proud audacious enterprise, Lest that th'Eternall shake his irefull hand,

And teach you what it is 'gainst God to rise.

For it fared with many of those Doctors, as it did with those whō our Sauiour re∣proueth for taking away the key of knowledge, in that they would neither enter in themselues, nor yet suffer such as would, to enter. For neither would they reade the Scripture themselues, nor suffer others to reade it. Nay one of their Reuerendissimi was not ashamed to say openly (as hath bin heretofore witnessed by others) I can∣not but wonder to heare these yong fellows alleadge the new Testament: Per diem I was aboue 50. yeare old before I knew what the new Testament meant. But what reason had they to forbid the translatiō of the Bible into the vulgar tongue? Verily this goodly reason, because (forsooth) it was to be feared lest the simple people should reade sundry things therein, which they would peruert to their owne de∣struction, for want of sound vnderstanding and iudgement; and so would fall into manifold absurdities and errors. To which sleeueles reason this answer was made (about fifteen yeares ago) by a man of excellent parts in those dayes: vpon whom God hath since doubled and trebled, and doth still multiply the graces of his spirit.

Nos grans Docteurs au cherubin visage, Ont defendu qu'homme n'ait plus à voir La saincte Bible en vulgaire langage, Dont vn chacun peut cognoissance auoir. Car (disent-ils) desir de tant sauoir N'engendre rien qu'erreur, peine & souci.

Arguo sic,

S'il est donques ainsi Que pour l'abus il faille oster ce liure, Il est tout clair qu'on leur deuoit aussi Oster le vin, dont chacun d'eux s'enyure.

That is,

Our learned Rabbins with their malmseynose, Forbidden men the holy writ to reade In vulgar tongues: for learning (they suppose) Nothing but error, paine and care doth breed.

Arguo sic,

If then for cause of this abusion, The Bible must be bard from looking on: Needs mote their wine be taken from their sight, Wherewith they bene each one so oft mis-dight.

But how then is that to be vnderstood which we reade in Oliuer Maillard (that good old Preacher,) where he telleth the burgesses and citizens of Paris, that they had the Bible in the French tongue? Verily he meant a kind of Bible which was first translated for the nonce, and fitted for their tooth: and after, glossed with the glosse of Orleans which corrupteth the text, yea so interlaced and interlarded ther∣with, as that they would be sure it should not crosse nor contrary their false deui∣sed doctrine; and that nothing might be found in the whole Scripture, which might sound aught but holinesse and honour to our holy mother the Catholicke Church of Rome. These were the Bibles wherein they gaue their Antidotes, in such places especially where they feared the poore people might be poisoned, as they speake. Of which argument I made these verses following,

Comment ont nos Rabbis permis & defendu Le liure qu'ils ont craint de tous estre entendu?

La Bible ont defendu en langage vulgaire, Puis l'ont fait imprimer, pour au peuple complaire. Ceci s'accorde bien: car tout ainsi qu'on voit, Que nous ostons le vin, à qui par trop en boit, Ou qu'auecques force ••au tellement on l'appreste, Que faire mal aucun il ne peut à la teste: Ainsi ont nos Rabbis voulu la Bible oster, Ou bien leurs mixtions à la Bible aiouster.

That is,

How haue our Rabbins licenc'd and forbade The booke so fear'd of lay-men to be learn'd? For both they haue f••••bade in vulgar tongues The Bibles vse: and ••or they faine would please. It now comes newly ••••••oking from the presse. All this may well agree: For as we see The wine ore reaue•• from the drunken man, Or else so temper'd from the cooler spring, That naught may ••••reamen vp to hurt the braine. So, or our Rabbins take this booke away, Or with their mixtions can his strength allay.

Now these their mixtions they call counterpoison, albeit they deserue rather to be called deadly poison. For certes, the Scriptures being read in that holy manner that God hath commaunded, will poison no man, (I meane they will not leauen our heads with erroneous opinions, but rather purge vs of the leauen of false doctrine,) but it is their glosse which poisoneth such as are not prouided of some soueraigne Antidote or counter-poison.

CHAP. XXXI. Of the paraphrasticall expositions vsed by the foresaid Preachers, especially in expounding the historie of the Bible.

HAuing declared in the former Chapter, how these Doctors did ex∣expresly forbid the reading of the holy Scripture in the vulgar tong, except it had such a glosse as would marre the text, and such a cautio∣nate interpretation, as that they wold be sure their trumperies should not be discouered: I am now to shew how they abused it in their Ser∣mons sundry other wayes. And first how they vsed a kind of paraphrase, wherein they play with the holy Scripture as Comaedians are wont, or rather conuert it in∣to meere Comicall conceits. For example, we find nothing recorded in Scrip∣ture of the woman (called a sinner) who came to our Sauiour as he sate at table (Luke 7.) but only this, that being at dinner in the Pharisies house, a womā of the citie of Nai••, which had bene a sinner (or a loose liuer) came to seeke him, that she washed his feete with her teares, and wiped them with the haires of her head: that she kissed them, and annointed them with sweet ointments: and how Christ she∣wed by a similitude, that we should not wonder that her sinnes were forgiuen her;

and how that after he had said, Thy sins are forgiuen thee, he added, Thy faith hath saued thee: Go in peace. Thus much we find in the Gospell touching this history. Let vs now see into how wide and large a field these Preachers wandered, and a∣mongst the rest Menot, (whom I haue so often alleadged.) First they can tell you this womans name, (albeit the Euangelist hath concealed it,) and not that onely, but her parentage also & pedegree: nay further, that she was at the Sermon which our Sauiour made before dinner: neither that onely, but what talke they had to∣gether, and in what tearmes. And which is more, Menot speaketh of it, as if hee had seene it liuely pourtraited before his eyes. For consider what he writeth, fol. 160. Quò ad primum, Magdalena (for hee taketh it for a confes∣sed truth that it is spoken of her) erat Domina terrena de castro Magdalon, tam sa∣piens, quòd erat mirum audire loqui de sapientia eius, & prudentia; O ergo Magdale∣na, quomodo venistis ad tantum inconueniens, quòd vocemini magna peccatrix? Et non sine causa: quod fuistis malè conciliata. Data est tribus conciliariis, qui eam posuerunt in talistatu: scilicet primus, Corporalis elegantia: secundus, temporalis substantia: tertius, fuit libertas nimia. De primo, Prouerb. vlt. &c. Primùm ergo quid fuit causae huius mu∣lieris perditionis? Fuit elegantia corporalis (that is,) What was the cause of this wo∣mans ruine and destruction? verily her surpassing beauty. Videbatur that she was made (as a man would say) of purpose, to be looked on. Pulchra, iuuenis, alta; cher∣ry-cheeked, soft and succulent, ruddy as a rose, Minion like-minsing, pleasantly warbling. Credo quòd non erat nisi quindecim vel sedecim annorum quando incêpit sic viuere, & triginta quando rediit ad bonitatem Dei. Numera, &c. Quando pater fuit mortuus, plena erat sua voluntate. Martha soror non audebat ei dicere verbum: & vi∣debatur ei quòd faciebat magnum honorem illis qui veniebant ad illam. Quicquid facie∣bat, erat viuere at her pleasure, and to banquet, hodie inuitare, &c. And a little after, This silly sot who had prostituted her selfe to euery come••, erat in castro suo: the bruite was noised already throughout all Iewry and the country of Galilee. Omnes bibendo & comedendo loquebantur de ea & de eius vita. Martha soror timens Deum & amans honorem of her kinred, being very much ashamed of the shamelesse impu∣dency of her sister, videns quod omnes loquebantur of her & her sweet doings, venit ad eam, dicens, O soror, si pater adhuc viueret, qui tantū vos amabat, & audiret ista quae per orbem agitantur de vobis, surely you would kill him with greefe. Facitis magnum dedecus progeniei nostrae. * 1.4 VVhat is the matter now? quid vis dicere? * 1.5 Heu soror, non opus est vltrà procedere, neque amplius manifestare. Scitis benè quid volo dicere, & vbi iaceat punctus. Euery child can talke of it. O * 1.6 hypocrite! what need you to take care for me? must you needs haue an oare in euery mans boate? what the diuell meane you by this geare? (Lord saue vs all.) Nonne estis magistramea? Quis dedit mihi this stout dame to trouble me? Vadatis precor ad domum verstram: scio quid habeo agere ita benè sicut vna alia. Habeo sensum & intellectum to know how to demeane and behaue my selfe. * 1.7Surely, it is so goodly a creature, that she cannot thinke of any thing saue of her selfe. Martha rogabat eam vt iret ad sermonem, & consuleret aliquem hominē bonae vitae. Magdalena dixit ianitori, Non dimittas mihi intrare hoc ca∣strum this mad sister of mine, who bringeth hither nothing but dissention, and vn∣quietnesse, vbi non consueuit esse nisi cantus gaudij. After this he maketh a long nar∣ration of the meanes which Martha vsed to perswade her sister to come to our Sa∣uiours Sermon: not telling her what he was, but onely that he was a very goodly man. O soror, essetis valde foelix si possetis videre vnum hominem qui praedicat in Hie∣rusalem, Est pulchrior omnibus quos vnquam vidis••••s: tàm gratiosus, tàm ••onestus: he is of so good behauiour, and knowes so well to giue kind entertainment, as you

neuer saw the like. Credo sirmiter quòd si videretis eum, essetis amorosa de eo, est in flore iuuentutis suae. And a little after, Illa cepit pulchra indumenta sua, aquam rosaceam pro lauando faciem suam, cepit speculum. Videbatur quòd esset vnus pulcher angelus. Nullus ••am aspexisset, qui non fuisset amorosus de ea: ipsa ante se misit mangones portantes great store of crimosine cushions, vt disponerent sibi locum. Martha videbat haec omnia, fin∣gens nihil videre: & sequebatur eā sicut si fuisset parua ancilla. Christus iam erat in me∣dia praedicatione, vel fortè in secunda parte. After he sheweth how all men honoured Magdalen, wondering to see her come to the Sermon. And that as soone as our Sauiour perceiued her, he began to preach how detestable a thing outward bra∣uery & pompous attire was. Tunc (saith he) ipse capit detestari vitia, bragas, pompas, vanitates, & specialiter peccatum luxuriae, & contra has mulieres &c. Afterward, he shewes how that notwithstanding Magdalen was touched to the quicke with that Sermon, thinking of nothing so much as of repentance, and leading a new life: yet that she was in great danger to haue beene drawne away by her customers and old acquaintance, and brought to her old by as again. Venerunt (saith he) galandi, a∣morosi, rustici, roisters, qui dixerunt, surgatis, surgatis, facitis nunc your selfe a super∣stitious hypocrite. Vadamus ad domum. Quae dixit, O amici mei; rogo, dimittatis me: non audistis quid dixit ille bonus praedicator de poenis inferni vobis & mihi praeparatis, nisi aliud faciamus? And a little after, Habebat in suo armariolo sweet and precious water, quae vendebatur pondere auri. Coepit quaerere de loco in locum, de platea in plate∣am, de domo in domum, Quis hodie dabit prandium praedicatori? Dictum est ei quòd in domo Simonis. And after, he relateth the speech which she vsed when she kissed our Sauiours feet, and washed them with her teares: and how she lay crowching vnder the table like a dog: as also how our Sauiour said vnto her, O Mary arise. And that she should answer, My Lord, I will neuer rise from hence, till you haue pardoned all my sins, and giuen me your blessing. And how he should say vnto her, Arise my deare, thy sinnes are forgiuen thee, thy faith hath saued thee. Lastly he telleth vs how Martha hauing brought Mary Magdalen to the virgin Mary, she kneeled downe before her and said, Madame, I beseech you pardon me if I presume to speak vnto you: I haue bene a leud and wicked sinner, but by Gods grace I wil be so no more; your sonne this day hath pardoned me: happy are you that haue such a sonne. See here how this iolly Preacher deciphereth this history, agreeing so well with the players of the passion, that it is hard to say, whether he borrowed it of them, or they of him. By players of the passion, I meane those Comaedians which set forth the story of the passion in rime, to be played in stead of other moral matter, or in stead of some play and pageant, or both. And first, that this woman (which the Euangelist calleth a sinner) was called Magdalen (as we heard euen now out of Menot,) and that she tooke her name of the castle Magdalon; see it here confirmed by one of these balla∣din rimesters (saue that in both names he vseth E in stead of A) in these verses rightly smelling of the old veine:

I'aei mon chasteau de Magdelon, Dont l'on m'appelle Magdelaine: Où le plus souuent nous allon Gaudir en toute ioye mondaine.

That is,

I haue my castle Magdelon, Whence I am called Magdalen: Whither we to sport our selues haue gone, In all delight of worldly men.

He further makes her the wickedest wretch that euer was in the world, addicted to all villanies which the wit of man can possibly deuise: and he brings her in sing∣ing wanton and lasciuious songs; and a Squire named Rodigon courting of her. He further shewes, that she would neuer giue eare, nor once listen to her sister Mar∣tha, and last of all, the manner of her conuersion.

2 But to returne to Menot, let vs see how he setteth forth the history of the prodigall sonne in orient colours, and how like a wier-drawer he stretcheth that out in length, which the Euangelist had couched and wound vp in few words, en∣riching it with all circumstances forged of pleasure, and couched in apt tearmes to make sport, and to moue laughter. fol. 119. Pater quidam habebat duos filios, quorum iunior se ostendit magis fatuum, quia inconstans fuit. This young man was wilfull, fickle, and inconstant, a minion, and a lusty braue gallant. Ipse erat vnus puer plenus suo velle, versatilis &c. qui quando venit ad cognoscendum seipsum, suam fortitudinem, suam iuuentutem, suam pulchritudinē, & quòd sanguis ascendit frontem, his strength, his youth, his beauty, and that he thought himselfe no small foole: Venit ad patrem resolutus sicut Papa, & dixit ei; Pater, da mihi, &c. Pater, sumus tantùm duo filij: ego nō sum bastardus: & sic, quādo placeret Deo to do so much for your childrē as to call you to his mercy, non exhareditaretis me, sed haberem partem meam sicut frater meus: Scio consuetudines & leges patriae, quòd te viuente nullum ius habeo in bonis vestris: tamen sum filius vester, & me amatis; rogo detis, &c. And a little after, when this foolish and vnaduised youth habuit suam partem de haereditate, non erat quaestio de portando eam secum; ideo statim he maketh cheuissance thereof, he priseth, and selleth it: & ponit the sale of it in sua bursa. Quādo vidit tot pecias argēti simul, valdè gauisus est, & dixit ad se; Hô non manebitis sic semper. Incipit se respicere; & quo modo? vos estis de tam bo∣na domo, & estis apparelled like a begger? Super hoc habebitur prouisio. Mittit ad quarendū Drapers, whole salemen, silkmen, (who came thick & threefold to serue him) & apparelled himselfe from top to toe: Quando vidit, emit sibi pulchras caligas of scarlet well drawne out, a faire shirt with a gathered band, a dublet garded with veluet, a Florence cap, hauing his haire finely combed & smoothed, & quādo sensit the damask wauing at his back, vt sensit hunc damascum volantem supra dorsum; haec secum dixit, Oportét ne mihi aliquid? non, &c. Lacke I any thing now? No: thou hast all thy feathers, it is now high time for thee to flye away. After, he reporteth how that he should say, he must needs abroad to see the world, & that they which were alwayes kept vnder the mothers wing, were idiots and dolts. To be short, that he who had not trauailed into forrain countreys nihil videt. My father hath now laid the raines on my necke, Pater meus laxauit habenam supra collum. After, he relateth how that trauailing through strange countreys, he feasted this man, and that man, and kept king Arthurs round table, being alwayes accompanyed and attended on at his Innnes with players, naughty-packes and idle huswiues. And in the end, how that postquā nihil amplius erat fricandū, when they had drawne him dry, mitti∣tur pulchra vestis Domini bragan••is, caliga, bombi••inium: quis{que} secum ferebat peciam of my iolly Iacke braggards hose and dublet, euery man carryed away a peece. Ita quòd in breui tempore my gallant became an apple squire, apparelled like a house∣burner, as naked as a worme, &c. And with much ado, he kept his shirt as cleane as a dishclout, (with a knot vpon his shoulder) to couer his poore carcasse. Thus well intertained they him in his prosperity, and in all his pompous iollities.

3 We read also Iohn. 7. that the high Priests sent officers to apprehend Christ, after he had cried aloud in the Temple, You both know me and whence I am: for I am not alone, &c. And how he said to the officers, Yet a litle while am I with you, & then

I go to him which sent me: you shall seeke me, and shall not find me, and where I am can you not come, &c. And how there was a dissention among the people by rea∣son of him, and how some of them would haue taken him, but none laid hands on him. As also how the officers returned vnto the high Priests and Pharisies, who said vnto them, Why haue you not brought him? The officers answered, Neuer man spake as this man. Whereunto they replyed, Are you also deceiued? Do any of the Rulers or of the Pharisies beleeue in him? but this people which know not the law, is accursed. Lo here the purport of the words of the text in Saint Iohn. Now let vs heare what is patched hereto in the paraphrase of this gentle Preacher. They of the Synagogue heard that Christ was hid in the desert, and therefore purposing to make speedy dispatch, leuied a great band of Sergeants, ruffianly rogues, vaga∣bonds, and forlorne fellowes, and said vnto them, Go your wayes and whereso∣euer you meete with him, bring him to vs, as a disturber of the state. And if he re∣sist you, kill him; you need not feare, you are well appointed. These gallants being gone into the desert, and hauing compassed the wood, found him all barefooted as he was, and vpon his knees, praying for wicked sinners. The Lord hearing them behind him, turned back and said: O my childrē, you are come (I know) to appre∣hend me, & to put me to death, but let me intreat you that I may liue a litle lōger; for yet a little while I am with you, &c. Take no care; all things shall come to passe which are looked for. After a while you shal do with me as you please. Now when they heard such gracious words, & saw so amiable a countenāce, they fel all downe vpon their knees, crauing pardon for their bold, presumptuous, and fellonious at∣tempt, and straight returned to Ierusalem to their maisters againe: who said vnto them, wher•• is he? haue you not found him? If you haue found him, why haue you not brought him? Did we not charge and command you, that you should bring him either liuing or dead? Tell vs, is he escaped from you? How often hath he plaied vs these pranks? Escaped? (said they) no, no: we were no sooner come before him; but he spake vnto vs in such sort, as we were all amazed, & gaue vs such heauenly instructions, that we are perswaded, there was neuer man spake like vnto him. What? (said the Pharisies) are you such white liuered souldiers, that words can beate you backe? O my Lords and masters (said they) you speake merrily: would to God you had bene with vs; he is so gentle, and curteous: O good God, who would not loue thee? when we came neare vnto him, he said not so much as who is there? but saluted vs kindly, and offered himselfe readily. Then the Iewes answered, he hath a bee in a boxe which helpeth him in all this geare; he hath in∣chanted, and suborned you.

4 Moreouer, they were as bold as blind bayard, in paraphrasing vpon the old Testament as well as vpon the new. For example, in the history 1. King. 3. which recordeth King Salomons iudgement of the two harlots, in giuing the child to the right mother, the text saith not, that they debated the matter in the presence of the King, nor that one of them should sweare by her faith; much lesse that the king should say, Hold your peace, hold your peace: for as farre as I see, you neuer stu∣died at Angiers nor Poytiers to learne to pleade wel. And yet Menot would make vs beleeue, that all this stuffe is essentiall to this story.

CHAP. XXXII. How the foresaid Preachers abused the Scriptures, partly through ignorance, and partly through malice.

BVt they not content to patch to the history of the Bible, as tel-tales are wont to do, to enhance the report & inrich their tale, that it may cary the greater shew, and so be a lie with a latchet; take further li∣bertie to abuse it sundry wayes besides; yea to quote places out of it for confirmation of their false deuised doctrine. For there is no one conclusion in all their religion so absurd, foolish, or full of impietie, which they will not defend and maintaine by one text or other. And with such pertinent quotations are their bookes full fraught and farced, who haue encountered them at sharpe, and giuen them the foile: where we may see their impudency to haue bin such, as that they wold not stick to alleadge those places for them, which made most against them; which they did by confuting their true exposition. For they knew they had to deale with such as either could not, or wold not vnderstand; and therefore no maruell if they were so terribly afraid to haue the Bible in the vulgar tongue: for they saw that if it once tooke place, they could no longer rule the rost, and leade the world in a string, as formerly they had done. Besides, they were not ignorant, they should be encountered on euery side, and set vpon thicke and threefold, when men were once armed with a number of texts, against which they saw they had no armour of proofe to defend themselues. Wherfore we may well thinke, that he which found fault with Saint Paul for vttering sundry things which he might well haue concealed (considering the scandall and offence which he gaue thereby) was no hypocrite, but spake as he thought. The like may be said of another profound Doctor, who was not ashamed to say, that if he were perswa∣ded that none had S. Pauls Epistles but himselfe, he would cast them into the fire: vsing this braue Doctor-like Latin, Per diem, si putarem quòd non esset nisi me qui haberet Epistolas Pauli, ego mitterem in ignes. Doubtlesse the good Spanish Doctor (mentioned before) needed not to wish S. Pauls Epistles burnt, seeing he had a suf∣ficient excuse for answering either them or any other text, to say, Ego non sum The∣ologus, ego sum Canonista. But seeing the foresaid books are as full of these examples, as an egge is of meate, I hope the Reader will hold me excused if I alleadge them not pel-mel, but onely cul out some few of them which may serue best to discouer their impudency.

2 And not to speake of Inuenimus Messiam, alleadged for proofe of the Masse, and such like places touched before in speaking of their ignorance (for question∣lesse such profound Preachers and deepe Diuines, as the three Worthies so often before remembred, would haue scorned such allegations) yet I cannot omit the Pycard who succeeded one of them, and eclipsed (as it were) the glory of them all in the iudgement of our good Catholickes. This famous preacher intending to proue that we are saued by our works, reasoneth in this sort. Is it possible that these wicked Lutherans should be so impudent as to deny that we are saued by workes, when we haue the flat and formall text of S. Peter for proofe hereof? Let them tell me the meaning of these words, Iustus vix saluatur: Is not this the meaning, that the iust man shall hardly be saued? And if he be hardly saued, is it not (I beseech

you) by his workes? Consider here (good Reader) before we passe on to a fur∣ther point, how maliciously and impudently this fond fellow equiuocateth; and thinke with thy selfe how many texts he will abuse, who maketh no conscience thus to dally with this? if such deceitfull dealing may be called dallying, whereby so many poore soules are seduced, and in stead of wholesome doctrine, are fed with plaine poison.

3 But because my purpose is to insist vpon foolish or malicious allegations, and to single out some few out of many, I will speake onely of such as are autho∣rized by a Councell; which Popish Prelates haue made their Achilles to beare off the great blowes which might light vpon their images. For in the Nicene Coun∣cell (not that great and famous Councell holden vnder Constantine the Emperor, but that which was assembled in the dayes of Charles the great, aboue eight hun∣dred yeares ago, by an Empresse who was so good a Christiā, that she put out her sonnes eyes, and after caused him to pine away in prison, where he ended his daies in great misery:) it was concluded that it was expedient not onely to haue Ima∣ges, but also to worship them. Now the strongest arguments which they vsed for proofe hereof, were these. First, a certain Bishop called Iohn (Ambassadour for the East Churches) alleadged Gen. 2. God created man after his owne image. Whence he inferred, that Images were to be vsed. And Canticl. 2. Shew me thy face, for it is faire. Another labouring to proue that Images ought to be set vpon Altars, alleadged the saying of Christ, Math. 5. No man lighteth a candle to put it vnder a bushell, but vpon a candlesticke, and it giueth light to all that are in the house. A third, to proue that it was profitable to looke vpon Images, alleadged the saying of the Prophet Dauid, Psal. 4. Signatum est super nos lumen vultus tui, Domine (as the old interpreter doth translate it) that is, The brightnesse of thy face doth shine vpon vs. A fourth, alleadged Psal. 26. v. 8. Domine▪ dilexi decorem domus tuae: that is, Lord, I haue loued the beautie of thy house. In like case also would they help and aduantage themselues with the saying of the Psalmist, Psal. 48. v. 9. As we haue heard, so haue we seene; say∣ing that we know God not onely by hearing of his word, but by looking vpon I∣mages. Another bishop named Theodorus was aware of this subtiltie: It is written (said he) that God is maruellous in his Saints. And in another place it is said, in the Saints which are vpon the earth: Ergo we ought to behold the glory of God in Ima∣ges. Another alleadged this similitude; As the Patriarchs vsed the sacrifices of the heathen: so Christians ought to vse Images in stead of the Pagans idols. These are their goodly allegations, which (because they were authorized by this Councell) haue bin canuased by these discipling Friers in euery sermon: to say nothing of sundry other of as good grace, and proceeding from as good a wit and sound iudgement.

4 If any shall here wonder how it was euer possible there should be (especi∣ally in those dayes) such sottish Preachers, as would so doltishly apply the Scrip∣ture; I will here record a late sottish speech much more to be wondered at. In the conference holden at Poyssi (the bruite wherof was blazed throughout the world) a certaine Magister Noster called Demochares, pleading for Images against a Mi∣nister of the word, and perceiuing that his cause went downe the wind, would needs maintain it by an argument taken from the glasse windowes in Saint Benets Church, concluding very logically in this sort. This Church (quoth he) was built in S. Dennis his time, but euer since there haue bin Images in glasse windowes: er∣go Images haue bin since S. Dennis his time. To whom the Minister answered in three words fitly and finely, that his argument was made of glasse.

5 But to proceed on in this discourse of the abuse of Scripture, let vs come to those that abused it in such diuellish sort, as great Mahomet himselfe could not haue done worse: I meane in disgracing Christian religion more then euer Ma∣homet or the Mahometists did. VVho may these be? Verily such as turne it to gibes and ieasts, and merry conceits; especially the deepe dissembling ducking Friers, who are not ashamed to apply sundry places written expresly of our blessed Saui∣our to their sweet Saints; those I meane by whom they inrich themselues by prea∣ching their miracles.

6 VVe heard before in the Chapter of blasphemies, of such as made it but a matter of merriment to gibe at some, and to commend other some, in playing the Scoggins with the Scripture; a common thing at this day euen among the Laity. Which deuice me thinks should first haue come frō our M. Pasquin (as being neare his scuruinesse, who Lucifer-like vsurps authoritie not onely ouer Gods word, but ouer his throne and scepter) albeit it hath bin practised since, especially by our gal∣lant Courtiers. For in the beginning of the raigne of king Henry the second, many iests were broken vpon such Lords and Ladies of the Court, as were not in like fa∣uour and grace they had bene in in the dayes of his father; but were as much de∣based as they had bin before aduanced. One of which I remember was applied to a noble man who had bin in high place, but was then tak•• a peg lower, Ecce Adam quasi vnus ex nobis factus est. As also that of a certaine Lady who had a prosperous wind in the stearne, and was set (as it were) on the top of fortunes wheele, Regnum meum non est de hoc mundo: where I haue also spoken of certaine places of Scripture wherwith the Friers were wont to sport thēselues and make their worships merry. To which notwithstanding sundry others might be added, as this among the rest, Si non esset hic malefactor, non tibi tradidissemus eum, spoken by certaine Monkes of a pasty which their Abbot had sent them; by which they meant, that if the Cooke had played his part in baking of it, and that the Abbot had liked of it, he would neuer haue sent it. It is further said, that this goodly interpretation of these words of the Psalmist, Qui dat niuem sicut lanam: Which sendeth cold according to the cloth, came from the Monkes cloisters.

7 But now we are to speake of those buffons who abuse the Scripture in their Sermons to mooue laughter. To returne therefore to our good Preachers, we are to note that some euen in these dayes haue made (as it were) a practise and profes∣sion, a trade and occupation therof. Of which number Menot is one. For fol. 209. col. 3. he saith, When men first sit downe to meate, there is not a word among thē, they ply their trenchers so hard, their tongues seeming to giue place to the office of their teeth: In medio autem exit sermo inter fratres; dicunt enim here is good bread and good wine. But in the end, In omnem terram exiuit sonus eorum. And fol. 196. col. 4. Dominae ancillis quae in••rant cameram earum, & non custodiunt se ab ipsis, saepè o∣stendunt quae non licet hominibus loqui. Nay, they do so highly honor and reuerence the beginning of Saint Iohns Gospell, that they write it in parchment, enchase it in gold, and hang it about their necks to serue them in stead of Amulets against dan∣gers; which powerfull preseruatiue (if they be not very forgetfull of their Philoso∣phy) they call Agnus Dei. Thus prophanely abusing euen the holy Gospell it selfe (which is Gods-spell) to charmes and sorceries, and magicall incantations (which are no better then Diuels-spels) as we may see in Menots sermons.

8 As for those who apply the Scripture written expresly of our blessed Sauior to their Saints, we shal not find neither can we desire more notable examples then those before mentioned, taken out of the book of Conformities. For what could the

diuel himself (if he were here in proper persō) do more to prophane the holy Scrip∣ture, then the author of that damnable booke hath done, in applying not only texts of Scripture spoken expresly of Christ, to this diuellish impostor, so as he sticketh not to say in the end of the booke, Multa quidem & alia signa fecit Franciscus, qu•• non sunt scripta in libro hoc) but those also which are written of the Patriarchs, Pro∣phets, Apostles and other holy Saints of God? But if these particular•• applyed to Fryer Francis shall not (haply) giue satisfaction to all, I will here alleadge others of S. Dominicke. Let vs therfore heare what Barelet (not contenting himselfe with the former places) saith further of his Saint Dominicke and of his order. Haec (saith he) est illa religio quae in vn•• veteri Testamento significata, Zachar. 6. Ecce quatuor quadri∣gae, &c. that is, (for I will onely translate these words) See what an excellent religi∣on this is, which was prefigured in the old Testament by Zachar: chap. 6. Behold there came foure chariots out from betweene two mountaines. In the first chariot were red horses, that is, MINORITES: In the second blacke horses, that is, ERE∣MITES: In the third were white horses, that is CARMELITES: In the fourth lu∣sty horses of diuers colours, to wit, the PREACHING FRIERS.

9 But these Doctors not content to abuse the Scripture to make sport (as when they made iests of certaine texts) or to fill their purses and panches the better (as when the Franciscan applied that to his Saint Francis, or the Iacobin to his Saint Dominicke which was spoken of Christ) being accustomed to a wanton kinde of licentious libertie in playing and dallying therewith, made it come at their whistle and serue them for all assaies, euen to confirme their dreames and dotages; though no more to the purpose, then Magnificat for Mattins, to vse their owne prouerbe. In whose Postils and Dominicals, albeit there be almost as many examples as leaues or lines; yet two or three shall suffice. And first we will beginne with the iol∣ly Preacher Barelet, who vpon these words in the last of Saint Luke, Art thou one∣ly a Pilgrime in Ierusalem, and knowest not the things that haue bene done there in these dayes? saith, that Christ was a Pilgrime in three respects, (for to fit his purpose the better, I must translate peregrinus a Pilgrime) namely in regard of his apparell, his lodging, and the implements which he carried about with him. First for his habit and attire, a Pilgrime hath a bottle, a scrip, a hat, and a staffe. So Christ had first his bottle viz. the flesh which he tooke of the virgine Mary; which was of three co∣lors: First white, through the virgins purity. Apoc. 19. After, I saw the heauens open, & behold a white horse. Secondly red, with the blood of the crosse. Esay 63. Why are thy garments red? Thirdly, black, when his body became blacke and blew vpon the crosse. Esay the 53. Et liuore eius sanati sumus. Secondly, he had a scrip, to wit his soule, full of the gold of grace and glory. Thirdly, he had a hatte, namely a crowne of thornes. Fourthly, a staffe, viz. the crosse. This is the reason why it is said, Art thou onely a pilgrime in Ierusalem? namely in regard of his attire. He was also a pilgrime in regard of his lodging: For pilgrimes &c. And did not Menot rea∣son with very good grace (saue that his argument was not in forma) when he argu∣ed thus, Chorea est iter circulare: Diaboli iter est circulare: Ergo chorea est motus Dia∣boli: and proued the minor▪ that Diaboli iter est circulare, by these places, Iob. 1. Cir∣cuiui terram (note that it is the Diuell which speaketh) & perambulaui eam. 1. Peter. 5. Circuit quaerens quem deuoret. And Psal. 11. In circuitu impij ambulant. But let vs heare a more strange deuice hammered out of his owne head; and consider how trimly he descanteth vpon the ground of the Gāmuth VT, RE, MI, FA, SOL, LA, in a mimicall manner playing vpon euery note with some text of Scripture, as if the holy Ghost had purposely written it for that end. For he playes vpon VT with a

text beginning with VT, and vpon RE with another beginning with RE, and so of the rest. Which fond and phantasticall conceipt because it could not be kept well in English, I haue here set it downe in his owne words, in Latine▪ fol. 29. Col. 1. Vos mundani audite, quia ad vos dirigitur verbum, nec est meū, sed illius qui pependit in ••ru∣ce. Luc. 6. Vae vobis qui ridetis, quia flebitis. Et timeo ne cante••is semel cantilenam dam∣natorum, qui (sicut columba) habet gemitum & fletum pro cantu. Hic cantus habet sex notas valdè miserabiles, scilicet, VT, RE, MI, FA, SOL, LA▪ Primam notam profer•• qui∣libet damnatus dicens, Vtinam consumptus essem, ne oculus me videret, Iob. 10. Secundā verò addit dicens, Repleta enim malis anima mea. Psal. 87. Et omnes alij respondent cum eo, Repleti sumus despectione, Psal. 122. Tertiam omnes insimul cantant, dicentes, Miserabiles facti sumus omnibus hominibus. 1. Cor. 15. Quartam cantat quilibet eorum dicens, Facies mea intumuit à fletu. Iob. 16. Item, faciem meam operuit caligo. Iob. 23. Quintam addunt omnes simul dicentes, Sol iustitiae non est ortus nobis, & in malitia no∣stra consumpti sumus. Sap. 5. Sextam cantāt simul dicentes, Lassati sumus in via iniqui∣tatis. Sap. 5. Et iterum, Lassis non datur requies: & pellis nostra quasi clibanus exus•••• est•• & defecit gaudium cordis nostri, ac conuersus est in luctum chorus noster; & cecidit co∣rona capitis nostri: Vae nobis quia peccauimus. Thren. vltimo.

10 They further abuse the Scripture in tying themselues to the words (like an Ape to his clog) neuer considering the scope and circumstances of the place, al∣beit their manner is not to stand vpon the literall sense at all; but to reduce all they haue to say, to certaine Allegoricall, Anagogicall and Tropologicall senses. For ex∣ample, Menot, to shew that we are not to wonder that the most holy Saints & dea∣rest seruants of God should be so sore afraid, when death drawes neare and knocks at the dore, hath these words: What? would you haue vs more certaine of our sal∣uation then S. Paul, who was rauished in a vision, and rapt into the third heauen, an elect vessell, chosen by our Lord to be an Apostle? True it is, he once said, I de∣sire to be dissolued and to be with Christ. But when it came to the point indeed, he slunke backe, and said, I appeale vnto Caesar. Acts 25.

11 But if further inquiry were made, it would (no doubt) be found that they haue sundry other wayes most wickedly prophaned the holy Scriptures: but for this present I will content my selfe with these already mentioned. For in that they abuse certaine places in following the old translation, and stand so stifly vpon the words, that they ground strange conclusions thereon▪ though it be a manifest fault, yet is it more pardonable then the former. For the Liripipium will not giue these licenti••••s (I meane our great graduats, the Batchelers and Doctors of Sor∣bonne) leaue to busie their braines with the Greeke and Ebrew, but to content themselues if they can serue out a messe (I should haue said a Masse) with the Latin ladle: as for these learned languages, to leaue them as they find them.

12 I come now to the height of their villany, the quintessence of their forgery shold I say? or rather knauery, in foisting in a number of sentences vnder the name of Scripture, which are not to be found either in the old or new Testament. No maruaile therfore if they haue bene so bold with the ancient doctors in alleadging their testimonies to proue the vertue and efficacy of their Masse, as we may see in the end of that worthy work of Conformities; where we find a number of sweete sayings in cōmendation of their Masse▪ gathered (as it is there said) out of S. Ierom. S. Augustin, S. Chrysostome, and other ancient fathers, which are no where to be found in the•••• workes: nay, which are cleane crosse and contrary to the tenour of their doctrine. And we may well assure our selues, they were neuer so le••d as to belch forth such blasphemies, as that which is fathered vpon S. Chrysostome Tantum va∣let

celebratio Missae, quantum Christi passio: quia sicut mors Christi redemit nos à pecca∣tis: sic Missae celebratio saluat nos; that is, The sacrifice of the Masse is of as great vertue, force and efficacy, as the passion of Christ: for as the death of Christ hath freed vs frō sin; so the sacrifice of the Masse saueth vs. O the blasphemy of these filthy Fryers.

CHAP. XXXIII. Of other abuses of Scripture.

WE heard in the former Chapter how the professors of the Roman religion were wont to wring & wrest the Scripture, and to alleadge them hab-nab without either rime or reason, and how some were faulty herein of ignorance, and others of malice: but here we shall see how they abuse it after another manner. First therefore we are to note, that when they saw they could not set any glosse vpon their lies and Le∣gends (in that they could not find a text though neuer so strained that might giue any colour thereto) their manner was to face it out with shamelesse lyes, as if they had had their budgets full of tickling texts. And how (I beseech you) did they ma∣nage the matter? They made (forsooth) euery lying Legend a maxime and princi∣ple hauing sufficient light in it selfe, and needing no proofe from any place of Scripture; though euery place be a proofe, and euery text a sufficient testimony, as they would beare vs in hand. For they knew that the poore people, whom they had enchanted with the whore of Babilons filthy cup of abominations, did think them to be such, without all doubt or dispute. And that it is euen so, tell me (gentle Reader) how often thou hast heard this Prouerbe, It is as true as God is in the Masse, spoken by our good Catholikes, who were of opinion, that there was no article in Christian religion more certen and sure then this? For who was not perswaded in old time, that euery page in the Bible did speake thereof? No maruaile ther∣fore if they entertained such fables hand ouer head, without demanding proofe or place of Scripture for confirmation thereof. Howbeit they went a step further when they told the people in their sermōs that the Lutherans (whō they afterward baptised Huguenots) were much like that wicked wretch Caine, who would not once heare Masse in all his life: wheras his brother Abel (that good Church-man) heard it euery day. But a Curate in Sauoy went beyond them all; for exhorting his parishioners to pay their tithes, he said, take heed (good brethren) how you follow the example of that cursed caitiffe Caine: follow rather the example of good Abel. For Caine would neither pay his tithes nor yet heare Masse, whereas Abel paied them duly, and that of the fairest, and of the best; and neuer a day went ouer his head in which he heard not one Masse at the least. Now albeit I could easily name this gētle Curate, yet I wil spare him for this once: only let me add this one thing, that he was not so well prouided of an answer, when it was proued to his face, and that out of his owne words, that Priests in those dayes were maried. For he was as mute as a fish, when he was encountered with this argument. Good Sir, at that time whereof you speake, there were but foure in all the world, to wit, Adam, Eue, Caine, and Abel: now Caine did neither sing nor yet say Masse; for he could not (you say) endure to heare it. And as for Abel, he could not both sing himselfe, and also heare it. It remaines therfore that Adam sung it, and that Abel or Eue ansvve∣red, and held the torch: whence it followeth that Priests were then maried. But if he had had but one dram of wit, he might haue answered that there were Martin Priests in those dayes who both sung and answered themselues. Another Curate (his pue-fellow) affirmed in open Sermon, that when the Angell Gabriel came to

salute the virgin Mary, he found her saying our Ladies Psalter. And to sute the sto∣ry of Abel who heard Masse euery day, we may not in any wise forget, how that Abraham, Isaac, Iacob, and other good Patriarchs neuer went to bed without making the signe of the crosse, and saying their Pater noster and their Aue Mary. Now if a man should haue asked these silly soules, how they knew this or that? It sufficed for a full answer, to say that they heard it of such a good preacher; witnes the common saying, It is true, for I heard a Preacher say so.

2 But the diuell foreseeing that the simple people would one day search the Scriptures, and so perceiue when our great Sorbonicall doctors strained the string too high, & went a note aboue Ela; fearing to lose his right for default of shewing good euidence, hath foisted in a number of counterfet Apocryphall writings, thereby to bleare the eyes of the simple, who cannot perceiue his false iuggling: I meane a bundle of bookes fathered vpon the Apostles or their disciples; and yet fraught and farced with diuellish doctrine, flat contrary to that of the Apostles: nay with such fables, as Christian eares can no more endure to heare, then the fi∣ctions and fooleries of Mahomets Alcoran. Neither is it of late time that he vsed this deuice to shake and (as much as in him lay) to ouerturne and ruinate the very foundations of our religion: for many yeares ago he vented abroad Euangelium Nicodemi, Euangelium Thomae, Euangelium Bartholomaei, Euangelium Nazaraeorum, Librum Pastoris, and such like: albeit he laboureth now afresh to the vttermost of his power to infect the world with the stench of them againe. Whereof he hath giuen a pregnant proofe in a damnable booke, intituled Proteuangelion, si••e de na∣talibus Iesu Christi, & matris ipsius virginis Mariae. For the better authorizing whereof, he hath fathered it vpon S. Iames, calling him cosin-german and brother to Christ. But what containes it, may we thinke? Verily such sweet stuffe as this: how Anne the virgin Maries mother (and wife to Ioachim) makes her mone to God in regard of her barrennesse, affirming that he dealt worse with her then with any other creature: worse then with the very elements, the water, and the earth, which brought forth fishes, herbes and plants. But first she alleadgeth the example of the birds, which she remembred by seeing a sparrowes nest in a Lawrell tree vnder which she sate: and she had no sooner ended her complaint, but an Angell tooke his flight towards her, (for it is expresly said, aduolauit) and said vnto her, O Anne, God hath heard thy prayer, thou shalt conceiue and beare a child, and shalt be famous through the world. Wherupō she vowed to dedicate her child to God, whether it were male or female. The Angell hauing done his message, brought the same newes to Ioseph her husband, who would not beleeue it, till he was by mi∣racle confirmed in the truth of the Angels report. To be short, at the end of nine moneths she was deliuered of the virgin Mary; and (according to her vow) pre∣sented her to God, when she was but three yeares old: where she was receiued with many ceremonies by the high priest, who prophe••ied that mankind by her should be redeemed. It is further said, that he set her vpon the third step of the Al∣tar, where, as she stood (through Gods goodnesse) she began to dance trimly. And this she did to winne the loue and liking of the Israelites. Now here it is to be no∣ted, that during the time of her abode in the Temple, she was fed like a doue, re∣ceiuing her viands from the hand of the Angell. But when she was twelue yeares of age, the Scribes assembled and consulted what course they should take with her (being now come to those yeares) that the sanctified of the Lord might not be polluted. Meane time Zachary the high priest had a reuelation as he was praying, that he should assemble all widowers in towne and country, and that each man

should bring a rod with him, that she might be committed to his care and custody, whom God should chuse by miracle. All which being done accordingly, a doue came out of Iosephs rod and light vpon his head: whereupon the high Priest said, God hath hereby manifested that it is his wil and pleasure thou shouldest haue the custody of this holy virgin. But Ioseph refused, saying, I haue a great charge, and now am old, and she but yong; therefore (I feare me) the children of Israel would laugh me to scorne, if I should take her to wife. But when he heard of the fearfull iudgements of God which befell Core, Dathan and Abyram, being greatly moued therewith he said; Mary, I take thee here from the Temple of the Lord, howbeit I wil leaue thee at my house, and returne to my Carpenters occupation: and I be∣seech God blesse and preserue thee now and euer. Now certain yeares after, as she went with a pitcher to draw water, she heard a voice from heauē, saying vnto her, Aue gratia plena, &c. Afterwards are inserted certain sentences takē out of the Gos∣pel: and in the end it is added, how that being now 16. yeares of age, and great with child (as hauing gone six moneths) Ioseph returning from his worke, wherein he had employed himselfe for certaine yeares (comming not home so much as once in all that time) and finding her great with child, was much amated. And as he was communing with her about sundry things, an Angell appeared vnto him, and certified him of all these proceedings. But it was great pitie that a Scribe who came to speak with Ioseph, perceiuing Mary to be with child, should make towne and country ring of it againe, in such sort, that they were forthwith apprehended and brought before the high Priest: where when Ioseph affirmed that he neuer v∣sed fleshly familiaritie with her; and she againe protested that she neuer had carnal company with him nor with any other man, he caused them to drinke the water of Iealousie: which when they had drunke, and felt no inconuenience; he said, that seeing God would not detect them, he would not be the man that should con∣demne them. After, follow the words of S. Luke chap. 2. how that Ioseph was of ne∣cessitie to bring her to Bethlem by reason of the royall commaundement which came from Augustus Caesar: but it is not done without a lie for the whetstone, and vsing such villanous speeches as these, That when Mary said to Ioseph, Depone me ab asina, quia quod in me est me vrget vt progrediatur, he tooke her downe, and said vnto her, vbi te inducam vt tegam pudenda? quia locus desertus est. Lastly, it is said that she was brought in bed in a caue neare Bethlem (sauing the credit of S. Luke who writeth otherwise,) and that Ioseph found a midwife (by great good lucke) who met with another afterwards called Salome, who not beleeuing that a virgin could haue a child, came to take triall thereof. But I had neede of a brow of brasse & a face of flint, the like bebauched impudency that the author of this story had, if I should set it downe in English: I will therefore content my selfe with the La∣tin here ensuing, Exiit{que} obstetrix ex spelunca & obuiauit illi Salome, & dixit obstetrix ipsi Salome, magnum tibi spectaculum habeo narrare, virgo genuit quem non capit na∣tura ipsius: & virgo manet virgo: dixit{que} Salome, viuit Dominus Deus meus, nisi scru∣tata fuero naturam eius, non credam quòd peperit. Et ingrediens obstetrix, dixit ipsi Ma∣riae, Reclina teipsam, magnum enim tibi certamen incumbit. Quum autem in ipso loco palpauit eam Salome, egressa est dicens, Vae mihi impiae & perfidae: quoniam tentaui Deū viuent••m. Et ecce, manus mea igne ardens cadit à me. Et flexit genua ad Deum, & ait, Deus, &c.

3 But to leaue the rest to those steele stomackes that can digest it, considering there are many things there ript vp farre worse without comparison then any of the former: consider with me (good Reader) a little, how the diuell hath openly

mocked and plaied (as it were) with the nose of Christendome, in publishing this booke, blindfolding in the meane time the eies of the world. For he vsed him as his instrument in the compiling and publishing thereof, who laboured tooth and naile, by word and writing, to make a hotch-potch of these two religions (if they may be called religions) viz. Mahometizme and Iudaizme with Christian religi∣on: him I say he vsed as his Amanuensis, who publikely preached and stifly main∣tained sundry grosse heresies, not onely full of blasphemie, but euen repugnant to ciuill honesty: I meane that worshipfull writer master William Postell. But how (may some say) was it euer possible that this booke, being composed by such a vile monster, was not suspected, as it should haue bene, had it bene deliuered by an Angell from heauen? For answer whereunto, we are to know that the diuell (as I said) hath exposed Christendome as a laughing-stocke, and wonderment to the world, and hath (as it were) with Mercuries pipe lulled our Argosses asleepe, whose office is to stand Sentinel ouer the State. True it is (I confesse) the villanies of these varlets were not so well detected in those dayes as they haue bene since: notwith∣standing so much was then discouered, as was sufficient to giue warning thereof: which I will leaue as being now (God be thanked) sufficiently well knowne: and will come to the phrase and style of the booke. I say then, and will iustifie it to any skilfull Hebrician, that he hath coyned sundry Hebraismes, and fained them of his very fingers, and foisted them among those which are vsuall and ordinary in the Scripture. As for the phrase it is so affected, that it doth plainely bewray it self. The matter also of the booke was forged by such a spirite as Postels was (if he were not the author thereof) in scorne of Christian religion: where the author to make a faire florish, and colour the matter with some probabilitie, hath inserted certaine sentences of the Euangelists in manner of a rhapsodie, and shuffled in others to which he supposed he could giue some lustre by certaine texts of the old Testa∣ment, as namely that of the water of Iealousie, &c. Thus thou seest (gentle Reader) to what impudencie some diuellish spirits are grown at this day. But if any curious Athenian desire to heare more of this stuffe (I meane of such counterfaite bookes foisted in by the craft and subtilty of Sathan) he shall find a great lurry of them in a booke called Orthodoxographa Theologiae sacrosanctae (and garnished with sundry other flanting titles) which seemes to haue bene written of purpose in scorne and derision of Christian religion. For if the doctrine therein contained be orthodox∣all, doubtlesse the doctrine of the Bible must needs be hereticall. Necessary there∣fore it is we should haue a speciall regard to what writings we giue such glori∣ous titles, seeing that in giuing it to one, we take it from another, they being as cō∣trary as day and darkenesse. If any shall here say, that some of them are translated out of Hebrew, and others out of Greeke; yet when he hath proued the point, he may put the gaine in his eye. For it is easily answered, that the diuell can shew him selfe a diuell as well in Hebrew and Greeke as in any other language. Now this Protoeuangelium I haue encountered rather then any of the rest, for that it is fathe∣red vpon Saint Iames, cosingerman and brother to Christ, as the title purporteth. For in the first impression (which is in a smal volume with the annotations) it hath this title, Proteuangelion, siue de natalibus Iesu Christi & ipsius matris virginis Mari•• sermo historicus diui Iacobi minoris, consobrini & fratris Domini Iesu, Apostoli primarij & Episcopi Christianorum primi Hierosolymis. Howbeit in the second impression, where it is made a part of the foresaid booke, intituled Orthodoxographa, S. Iames is not called cosingerman, but onely brother of Christ. I haue, I say, encountred this booke rather then any of that rable, to the end the Reader by this may take

a tast of the rest. For if they durst publish such stuffe vnder the name of S. Iames, what would they not dare to do vnder the name of Nicodemus, and a number of such worshipfull writers as are there to be seene? And thus much for a tast, for the whole tunne is of the same liquor, colour and tang. There was likewise another damnable booke published since that time vnder the name of S. Iames. The Acts also of the Apostles haue bin dispensed abroad into many hands, composed by one Abdias, whose writings (though altogether impious and prophane) some haue not bin ashamed to glosse in sundry places as well in the preface as in the body of the booke, and to affirme that he either tooke it out of S. Luke, or S. Luke out of him. Besides all these, the Ecclesiasticall history it selfe hath bin published by a di∣uellish Monke called Nicephorus Calistus, whom I call a cloister diuell not without cause. For besides that he was a cloisterer by his profession, he sheweth himselfe as ignorant as a Monk, as impudent as a Monk, as wicked and prophane as a Monk: so ignorant, that euen yong children may teach him his lesson: so impudent, that he is not ashamed to tell most shamefull lies: and so prophane, that he sticketh not to iest and gibe at God himselfe and his holy truth. All which particulars shall one day (God willing) be manifested and layd open to the world.

4 Now albeit the foresaid Preachers might finde in these and such like clas∣sicke writers, prety store of trim tales, euer ready at hand when they meant to step into the pulpit to giue their quarter blowes: yet they were not negligent to furnish themselues with other maner of ware, which they might mingle with the old, and not euer cloy their auditory with stale stuffe. Or if haply they alleadged any au∣thor, they alleadged such as were ••picke and span new, comming newly smoking from the presse. Which puts me in mind of that which I once heard deliuered by one Bonauenture (a Franciscan) in a Sermon which he made at Ipre in Flanders: where he affirmed, that when Christ was growne a prety tall stripling, able to take paines and to follow his occupation, Ioseph employed him in his trade, commaun∣ding him to saw a peece of wood; where he missing the marke which he had made him to saw by, sawed it ouer short: whereupon Ioseph being very angry, would haue beaten him; and he had lamskinned him indeed if he had not stept aside and taken vp a cudgell to defend himselfe: which made Ioseph take vp another, either of them weilding their weapon and keeping their standing. And whence trow we (said the Frier) learned he this? Out of S. Annes Gospell, I warrant you. And I re∣member I haue read a like story of another Franciscan called Bardotti, which may fitly parallele the former, who preaching at Bourdeaux, of the good theefe to whom our Sauiour said, This day thou shalt be with me in Paradise: affirmed he had found in a certain Gospel the reason why he went straight to heauen, not so much as saluting Purgatory by the way; because that when Christ fled into Aegypt, he would not suffer his fellowes to rob him nor those that were with him: and that he should say vnto him, I beseech you Sir remember me another time for the good turne I haue done you: which he promised to do; and so did, when they hung to∣gether vpon the crosse. Thus we see these ghostly fathers could neuer be drawne dry, considering they had as many Gospels as they could desire: out of some of which, they took many fine fables to make their auditors some sport: out of others sundry miracles able to rauish them with admiration (I meane such miracles and lying wonders as the Euangelists neuer mention:) and out of others, answers to sundry obiections, which might marre their mirth, by putting out the great fire of their greasie kitchin. As this Bardotti, who hauing much ado to maintaine his Purgatory against the foresaid place of the Euangelist, alleadged this story for a full

answer. I haue also heard of another Preacher who serued his turne very well with this voyage into Aegipt, to assoile a question wherewith he was sore troubled, viz. when that was fulfilled which was foretold by the Prophet Ezechiel, Et disperdam simulachra & cessare faciam idola de Memphis? for he said, it was then fulfilled when our Sauiour fled into Aegypt, being but a child. I come now to their lying legends and pretended reuelations.

CHAP. XXXIIII. Of fables taken out of their Legends, and such like baggage, wherewith they stuffed their Sermons.

BVt the store-house of most idle, most addle and Frier-like fables, hath bene and is the book intituled The golden Legend of the Saints, containing such a number of absurd and ridiculous tales, that the Reader had neede to hold hard behinde, for marring his bree∣ches: which French-men do oftener in the vintage then any other season. Neither is he to be too nice or daintie; for he shall meet with many places, out of which he shall neuer be able to extricate himself, without doing that which fresh-water souldiers do, as not hauing bin vsed to the sea. Amongst which (if I may iudge of other mens conceits by mine owne) these may be numbred. Frater Iuniperus (whō S. Francis held for a very holy mā) purposing on a time to play the cooke very brauely, put chickens into a great pot, without either pluming, draw∣ing or washing them; as also fresh and poudered beefe, together with herbs, pease, beanes, and such like pulse, neither washing or clensing them: and boiling all these together ouer a great fire, serued in this goodly dish of meate, and set it before his fellowes. The same Frater Iuniperus (and here a man had need to haue a strong stomack indeed) being lodged vpon a time in a good bed, and faire cleane sheets, layd pilgrime salue therein, which he left his host for full paiment, without giuing him any other farewell. Both which tales are taken out of the booke of Conformi∣ties before alleadged; the first, fol. 62. the second, fol. 63. both these modest stories being there recorded to shew the humilitie of this holy Frier. But if humilitie did consist in the second pranke here specified, questionlesse there would be none comparable to that of yong children; for they play this slippery trick oftener then their nurses would haue them: yet we must not iudge rashly of this fact of Iunipe∣rus; for he knew (it may be) by reuelation that he was to set another hew vpon the sheets before he went thence. And what can a man tel whether it was not a receipt which he had learned in some Legend? For let me but speake this one thing in his behalfe, that it is scarce probable that the stinke of these excrements should be like other mens, especially considering we reade in the foresaid booke of Conformities fol. 51. how that a Monke of the same Couent called Ruffin, draue away the diuell by threatning to vntrusse a point into his throate: for it is there said, that when the diuell heard this, he ranne away in a maruellous rage, as if a tempest had bin at his taile: whereas going backe for feare of holy water, he doth not make a whit the more hast. Now if the diuell was in such a bodily feare, to be so perfumed by Frier Ruffin, the perfume doubtlesse which Frier Iuniperus left behind him in his bed to pay his host withall, was more then Memphiticall.

2 Pardon me good Reader, if I be too broad; for I am inforced to accommo∣date my selfe to the matter in hand. For (as the Greeke prouerbe saith) It is hard to find modest words to expresse immodest things. Notwithstanding I do not (as thou mayst perceiue) say the worst I can of these filthy Friers, for the respect I haue of their holy mother the Church: but if I take them tardy the second time, let them assure themselues, I will curry their cockscombs for altogether.

3 But who is such an Heraclitus that would not burst with laughter, when he shall reade in the life of S. Dominicke, how he besieged the diuels in a certaine de∣moniack, and would not suffer them to depart without giuing pledges: and how in the end they got the holy Martyrs which lay buried in the Church, to be their sureties? But that I may the better satisfie the Reader, I wil here set downe the very words of the story, as they lie in the old French tongue. Vn homme estoit demonia∣cle de plusieurs diables, lequel lui fut presenté (assauoir à S. Dominique) & il prit l'estole, & la mit sur son col. Et puis en ceignit le col au demoniacle, & commanda à iceu•• que d'oresenauant ils ne tourmentassent celui homme. Et tantost ils furent tourmētez dedans lui fourment, & dirent, Laisse-nous aller. Pour quoi nous contrains tu à estre tourmen∣tez? Et il dit, Ie ne vous laisseray iusqu' à tant que m'aurez donné plege que ne re••ournerez plus. Et ils dirent, Quels pleges vous pouuons-nous donner? Et il dit, Les saincts martyrs qui reposent en ces••e eglise. Et ils dirent, Nous ne pouuons, car nos merites ne le requi••rent pas. Et il dit, Il conuient que vous les donniez, ou ie ne vous laisseray pas aller quittes. Et ils respondirent, Qu'ils y mettroyent peine. Et apres vn peu de temps ils dirent, laçoit ce que nous ne soyons p••s dignez, nous auons impetré que les saincts martyrs nous plegerout. Et il requit auoir signe de ces••e chose. Et ils dirent, Allez à la cháce où les ch••••s des mar∣tyrs sont, & vous les trouuerez renuersez. Adonc allerent, & fut ainsi ••••ouué comme ils auoyent dit. That is, A certaine man possessed with many diuels, was brought to S. Dominicke, who tooke the stole and girded it fast about his necke, commaunding them that from thencefoorth they should not torment him: and foorthwith they were grieuously tormented within him, and said, Suffer vs to depart, Why doest thou thus torment vs? To whom he answered, You shal not depart, vntil you haue gotten some to be your sureties, that ye wil neuer enter into him again. They said, What sureties? The holy Martyrs (said he) which lie here in the Church. Where∣unto they answered, Our merits do not deserue that. Well, you must procure thē (said he) to giue their words for you, otherwise you shall not be set free. They an∣swered, they would do their endeuour: and returning againe not long after, said, Albeit we be vnworthy, yet haue we gotten the holy Martyrs to be our sureties. Then he demanded a signe of them. If you go to the shrines (said they) where the s••uls of the Martyrs lie, you shall find them ouerturned. Whereupon * 1.8 he went, and found it as they had said. After which story (or fable rather) this other fol∣loweth, which for the grace it hath, deserues to go with it hand in hand. It happe∣ned that as this holy father preached on a time, certaine simple seduced women fell downe at his feet, and said: O thou man of God help vs. If this doctrine which thou hast taught be true, an erroneous spirit hath this long time blinded our minds. To whom he said, Feare not, stay a litle, and you shall see what master you serue. And immediatly they saw a blacke cat leaping in among them, of the big∣nesse of a great curre, with flaming eyes, a long, large and bloudy tongue reaching downe to her brest: a crooked writhen taile turning vp on high, shewing her po∣steriorums which way soeuer she went, whence came a horrible stinch: who ha∣uing fisked this way and that way about these deuout dames a long time, in the end went vp by the bel-ropes, and left a filthy stinke behind her. And so these wo∣men

thanked God, and turned to the Catholicke faith. But because such stories as these are but Frier-like fables, very harsh to all mens eares that are not Frierified: I thinke it good whilest they are now listning and attentiue, to let them heare at once, the rest I do remember. First then (fol. 211. of the foresaid booke of Confor∣mities) we reade how S. Francis, to shew that he was a pure virgin, stripped him∣selfe naked before the Bishop of Assise; and others; and how he gaue his breeches to the foresaid father, shewing that he was not defiled with women. Thus much for the master. Let vs now heare how well his schollers followed his example. Fol. 62. Frier Leonard putting off his breeches at the gate of Viterbe, put them vpon his head, and binding his other apparell like a fardell about his necke, went starke belly naked through the streets, where he endured many villanies: afterwards he went into the Friery, where all the Friers cried shame vpon him: but he was so holy a man, that he respected not what they said; telling them that he had done the like as he passed through two other cities. There is also mention made of another of his disciples, which tooke pleasure in playing the like pageant: who whether he re∣semble the doggish Diogenes or not, let the Reader iudge.

4 And now I come to those examples, which will not giue a man his breake∣fast, (as the former) but onely his belly full of laughing cheare, so as he may per∣haps indanger that which I spake of. And if you please to beginne with S. Fran∣cis, let vs listen a little to his great wisedome recorded fol. 114. of the said booke; how he saluted the birds, spake vnto them, and called them his brethren, comman∣ding them to hearken to the word of God: and how they hearing him preach vn∣to them, reioiced exceedingly, thrusting out their necks, and opening their beakes one vpon another, ma••king him all the while very attentiuely: and how when the sermon was ended, he walked through the middest of them, and permitted them to depart. Wherupon they flew all away with a great noise, and deuided thēselues into foure companies, according to the foure quarters of the world, therby signi∣fying that the order of Saint Francis should be renoumed, and dispersed through∣out the earth. Againe, fol. 149. we reade that a Grashopper abode eight daies with him, in stead of Saint Mary, and that when he called her, she flue vnto him and light vpon his head, and so taking leaue of him departed. As also how a Nightin∣gale and he song Anthemes a whole day together by course. Againe, fol. 114. how he made the Swallows to cease their chattering, calling thē sisters. And in the same page, how he cured a man-keene wolfe (which had hurt many in the citty;) by making the signe of the crosse, and how he made this agreement with him any brother wolfe, thou must here promise me, that thou wilt not rauen as heretofore thou hast done; and then the citie will keepe thee. Which the wolfe promised to do, bowing downe his head euidently. Then said Saint Francis, sweare vnto me vpō thine honesty, and therwith put forth his hand; where the wolf lifting vp his right foote, laid it gently in Saint Francis his hand. Who said my brother wolfe, I charge thee in the name of our Lord Iesus Christ, that thou follow me now pre∣sently which he did. We read also of sundry Saints, who tooke pleasure in talking with beasts: but this brotherhood with wolues is peculiar (I take it) to Saint Francis.

5 Further, who can containe himselfe when he shall read how Saint Macari∣us did seuen yeares penance among thorns and bushes, for killing of a flea? Which verily was another manner of penance then that which Saint Francis did for ea∣ting Coquinam de ••ardone. But I may not forget another pranke plaied by Saint Do∣minicke, recorded towards the end of his legend, which was the fact of a bon-companion

indeed, at leastwise so penned that it will make good fellowes sport, and minister vnto them matter of merriment; viz. that there was a holy Nun cal∣led Mary, who had a sore thigh, and had endured great paine of it for the space of fiue moneths, and was past hope euer to haue it cured: who thinking her selfe vn∣worthy to pray vnto God, or to be heard of him, besought Saint Dominick to be a mediator for her, that she might be restored to her limmes again. Where falling a∣sleepe, shortly after she thought she saw Saint Dominicke close by her, and how he tooke from vnder his coape a strong smelling ointment, wherewith he annointed her thigh. And that when she asked him what it was; he should answer, that it was The ointment of loue. Which riddle I leaue to the Reader to reade as his fancie shall giue him: for my part I conceiue no otherwise of it, then of the priuate familiari∣tie which was betweene S. Francis and S. Claire (recorded fol. 84▪ booke of Con∣formities) and of his inward and familiar acquaintance with Fryer Masse, a beauti∣full young man, whom he once embraced and lifted vp from the ground, in such sort, that he thought himselfe all on a fire.

6 Moreouer in the Legend of Saint Germine, it is reported, how that he prea∣ching on a time in Britaine, when the king would not entertaine him, nor those that were with him; a heardman (who came from feeding his cattell) carrying an almes to his cottage (with was giuen him at the pallace) and seeing this blessed Saint Germine and others with him hungry and cold, receiued them courteously into his house; and hauing but one calfe, caused it to be killed and dressed for thē. And that when supper was done Saint Germine caused the bones to be brought, and laid vpon the skinne, and hauing prayed ouer them, the calfe rose vp vpon his feete. The next morning he went to the king, and giuing him very hard language, asked him why he had denied him lodging? To which whē he could not tel what to answer, Saint Germine said, get thee hence, and leaue thy kingdom to thy better. Which done, he commaunded the herdman should come (and bring his wife with him) whom he crowned king in the presence of them all; (who wonde∣red at the fact) so that euer after, the herdman and his successors enioyed the king∣dome.

7 Againe, we read this fabulous story in the Legend of Saint Cosmas and S. Damian, word for word. Pope Felix (the eight after Saint Gregorie) built a famous Church at Rome in honour of Saint Cosmas and Saint Damian. In which Church there was one which attended vpon these holy Martyrs, who had his thigh almost eaten away with the canker. To whom as he was asleepe these Saints appeared, and brought with them instruments and oyntments. And the one said to the o∣ther, where shall we haue wherewith to fill vp the place, out of which we must cut this corrupt flesh? The other answered, there is an Aethiopian newly buried in the Churchyard of Saint Peters aux liens, fetch hither some of his flesh that we may put it in the place; who went presently into the Church-yard, and brought thence the dead mans thigh. They then cut off the sicke mans thigh, and put the dead mans thigh in stead thereof, and hauing carefully annointed the wound, caried his thigh to the dead man. Now when the Secretine awooke, he put his hand to his thigh, but felt no paine, nor yet any scarre or signe of his wound. And when he tooke the candle and saw his thigh well againe, he doubted of himselfe, thinking he had bene some other. But coming at last to himselfe, he leapt out of his bed for ioy: telling his friends what had befallen him in his sleepe, and how he had bene healed; whereupon they sending in all hast to the dead mans tombe, to know the truth, found the dead mans thigh cut off, and his in the graue, in stead thereof.

8 But if any desire to know more of these old wiues tales, let him reade the foresaid lying Legendary; or Nicephorus Calistus his Ecclesiasticall story; who (to omit other fables) reporteth that Saint Chrysostomes body spake after he was dead, and that Theodosius the Emperour sent letters vnto it: as also the sermons of Oli∣uer Maillard, and Michael Menot. And to the end he may furnish himselfe for all as∣says, let him reade fructuosissimos atque ••••••••nissimos sermones Fr. Gabrielis Baraleti, à toto verbisatorum coetu diu desideratos: as also Sermones Dormi securè: where they are huddled together one vpon another, thicke and threefold. But the booke of Conformities (mentioned before) containeth mo of these fond fables, quantity for quantity, thē any of the rest. There you shal find that it was as ordinary a thing with Saint Francis his nouices, to raise the dead, as to drinke a cup of beere, and as easie a matter as for a squirrell to crack a nut. As also how Saint Francis slue a man in his iollitie, that he might in a brauery raise him from the dead againe. Fol. 120. Locus est dictus de Nuceria, in quo Franciscus fecit illud insigne miraculum, quod cu∣iusdam medici filiū primogenitū priùs occidit, & contritū suscitando restituit. And not to rake vp the filth, nor rip vp the fooleries of their other lying Legends, you may see in the former chapter, which entreateth of our good Catholicks of the Popish Clergie, how many miracles are fathered vpon him. But the best is, that the most there spoken of are confirmed by the testimony of none, but of the diuell (so farre did those wicked wretches authors of that booke ouer-shoot themselues) and that sundry miracles which are there said to haue bene wrought by him and his disci∣ples, were wrought by no other meanes, then by Satanical operation & diabolical illusions. Which though it be not there recorded, yet it was the will of God, these fables should so be penned that they might easily be descried.

9 I was here purposed to haue ended this rhapsody taken out of the Legends, but that two other came afterwards to my mind, recorded in the booke of Confor∣mities, which in conscience I cannot omit. Fol. 72. A blind man rubbing his eyes with Frier Francis of Duratio's frocke, recouered his sight. Fol. 74. A woman of Tholouze being grieuously diseased with a bloudy flixe for the space of fourteene yeares, said in her selfe, O if I could but touch the hem of his garment I should be whole: which she did, and so was cured, &c. Fol. 64. Frier Bennet of Arezze bare great deuotion to S. Daniel, whose sepulcher in Babilon guarded with dragons he desired to see; but could not, by reason of the long iourney and feare of those ser∣pents. Whereupon there appeared vnto him a huge and monstrous dragon, who set him vpon his taile, and caried him straight to Daniels sepulcher: where opening the tombe, he tooke one of Daniels fingers in deuotion, and forthwith was caried by the dragon backe againe into his place. Many are of opinion that it was an An∣gell of God. The same Frier, like a second Ionas, was cast into the sea in a tempest, and being suddenly inuironed with a little cloud, was caried to the terrestriall Pa∣radise: whom when Enoch and Elias saw, they demaunded of him what he was? And when they heard that he was Saint Francis his brother, they danced for ioy, and led him about to shew him euery corner of Paradise. From thence he was ca∣ried back againe ouer the sea in a little cloud, which maruellously astonished those that beheld it.

10 But to returne to Frier Iuniperus. Fol. 91. Frier Iohn of the Vallies affirmeth, that he smelt the sauour of Iuniperus twelue leagues off; and note that they were twelue leagues of good measure: for he saith, Huius odorem, seu aduentum, frater Io∣hannes de vallibus, dixit se sensisse per viginti octo milliaria. And as Frier Iuniperus did all this in humilitie, so likewise (to shew his humilitie) he played with a little

boy at titter-totter. And touching sottish humilitie, see here as foolish a part as euer was played by the wise men of Gotham. Fol. 74. Frater Thomas pollicem sibi ampu∣tauit propter humilitatem, ne sacerdos fieret, claruit multis miraculis: that is, Frier Tho∣mas cut off his thumbe in humilitie, for feare of being made priest, and was famous for many miracles. I do the rather relate this tale in his originall (viz. in the very words and termes wherein it is written) because I doubt not but it will seeme as strange to the Readers as it did to me; especially if they shall consider the reason which is there giuen, that he did it through humilitie forsooth, that is, (as I conceiue of it) because he thought himselfe vnworthy to say Masse: whereas the poore Priest should not onely haue cut off his thumbe, as willing to lose a member of his bo∣die, but should rather haue died ten thousand deaths (if it had bin possible) as ab∣horring to be of the number of those Masse-mongers, I meane those butchers of our Sauiours body, or tormenting executioners, as much as in them lieth. Now what punishmēt he deserued for such indiscreet, or rather sottish humilitie, I leaue to the iudgement of the Reader. But the punishment which King Francis the first adiudged two companions vnto, who had cut off one anothers hand for feare of being sent to the gallies, was, that they should be sent to the gallowes, as I heard it credibly reported to Charles of Marillac, then Bishop of Vienne, and Embassadour for the French King at Ausbourgh.

11 As for their other drugs and draffe, mentioned in the title of this Chapter, by them I vnderstand other tales not taken out of their lying Legends (as the for∣mer) but forged by fond Friers, and fained of their fingers: some of them in the cels of contemplations, others in the cels of reuelations, and others in other blind corners. For it is the custom of those profound Preachers, and namely of the foure so often before alleadged, in reporting any story of their he or she Saints, to say that they had it out of the story of his life (which they call his Legend,) or out of such or such an author: and sometimes that they borrowed it at the second hand from such as had it by contemplation or reuelation: and sometime againe (which sometime, is oftentime with them) they alleadge no author at all, but content themselues with a hearesay or a scriptum est. Which I speake not onely in regard of the tales they tell vs of the Saints, but of that which they report of meaner persons also: a vsuall thing with them when they speake of any miracle, as I might easily instance by sundry examples; but I leaue the Reader to search for them in the sac••els of these worshipfull writers (who among the rest of their contemplatiue doctors, alleadge Landulphus and Bonauenture: as also certaine omnigatherums, intituled Reuelations, and among others Librum reuelationum Elizabeth) and will content my selfe onely with three histories or fables, one of which is of the rabble and riffe raffe of those which the Friers and Priests haue in high account, because they helpe to make their kitchins hot. The story is this (in the Sermons intituled Dormi securè, in dedicatione Ecclesiae, sermon 68.) Legitur de quodam sacerdote, qui in quadam Missa liberauit de Purgatorio animas nonaginta nouem: & quum interrogare∣tur, &c. that is, We reade of a certain Priest, who by saying a Masse, deliuered ninety and nine soules out of Purgatory. And being demaunded why he stayed there, and went not on to an hundred, to make vp a round number: he answered, that a diuellish doore hindred him, which striking against the wal, made such a noise that he quite forgot where he was: and being then wrapt in contemplatiō, it put him cleane out of the socket. The second story or fable (story for them, fable for vs) is this▪ In Na∣tiuitate Domini, serm. 69. vnde legitur exemplum, quòd fuerint duae Iuuenculae, &c. that is, (somewhat to abridge the Latin Legend) There were two yong maids

which conuersed very familiarly together, who on Christmasse euen at night, af∣ter they had heard the first Masse, sequestring themselues from the rest of the Nunnes, went apart into an odde corner of the Cloister, there to chat of this child Iesus, listning when they would ring to the second Masse. Where sitting together, the one said to the other, Why haue you two cushions, and I but one? I will lay one of them (quoth the other) in the midst betwixt vs, for the child Iesus to sit vp∣on: for he hath promised (as the Euangelist saith) that where two or three are gathe∣red together in his name, he will be there in the middest amongst them. This done, they sate there together (taking great pleasure in such talke) from the Natiuitie of Christ to the Natiuitie of S. Iohn Baptist, that is, from Christmas til Midsommer: all which time seemed to them as if it had bin but two houres. In the meane time the Abba∣tesse and the rest of the Nunnes were sore perplexed, wondering not a little what was become of these nouices. Now it fortuned vpō Iohn Baptists eue, that a heard∣man passing by the place where they sate, and espying a goodly child sitting vpon a cushion betweene them, went forthwith to the Abbatesse, and acquainted her therewith: who following him to the place, saw this child, which seemed to her to play with the girles. They then being found there by the Abbatesse, were much a∣bashed, and asked her if they had rung to the second Masse? for they supposed they had not stayd there aboue two houres: where she hauing told them, that they had bin there halfe a yeare, viz. from Christmasse to Midsommer, they wondered exceedingly. And being asked whither the child was gone which sate betwixt them; they protested and sware they saw no child there. So I had bread & cheese, and came my way home. Let vs now come to the third, taken out of Barelete. Saint Katherine saying on a time the fiftie first Psalme, beginning Miserere mei Deus, and being come to Cor mundum crea in me Deus, Create in me, O God, a cleane heart: our Lord appeared to her, and tooke out her heart: and after three dayes were ex∣pired (during which time she had no heart) he gaue her a new heart, and said, Good daughter Katherine I haue giuen thee a new heart, that thou mightest be cleane in my sight. In signe whereof (although the place was closed vp and healed againe) there remained a litle scarre euer after. To which she hauing respect in her prayers, was wont to say, Lord I commend thine heart and not mine vnto thee. Which tale of a tub he tooke as it seemes out of the legend of this Saint, though like a fil∣ching fellow he cunningly conceale it.

12 And now I hope (gentle Reader) I haue fulfilled my promise which I made in the title of this chapter: for which cause I doubt not but I haue deserued wel of our holy mother the church; But to come to their works of supererogatiō: I wil bestow some paines to shew, how these Preachers applyed their tales, stories or fables, in their sermōs. First, they begin with a place of Scripture, which they cal a theame (whence commeth this fine phrase, Iuxta thema praelibatum) which if it be sutable to the matter they intend to speake of, it is so much the better: if not, there is no remedy, they must take it as it is, and patience. Now here note, that though they were to preach of any Saint, yet would they take some text which speakes ei∣ther of Christ, or of some other. For example, one of the sermons in that worthy worke called Dormi securè, de S••ncto Andrea, sermone 1. beginneth thus; Christo con∣fixus sum cruci, Galat. 2. Notate charissimi (dicit enim beatus Augustinus super verbo praedicto) quòd Christus &c. Certè hoc fecit sanctus Andreas, cum magno desiderio qui∣euit per biduum in cru••e, & in eo obdormiuit in Domino, ideo conuenienter dicit, Christo confixus sum. And in the sermō de S. Augustino, Tu signaculū similitudinis Dei, plenus sapientiae, Ezech. 28. And a little after: Quare meritò dicitur de eo (sancto Augustino)

tu signacuium similit. &c. In quibus quidem verbis tria notantur, in quibus sanctus Au∣gustinus commendatur, primum est, &c. And in the 13. sermon De sancta Agnete. Quàm pulchra es & decora charissima in delitijs. Cant. 7. Notate charissimi: dicit enim sanctus Gregorius, quòd mos est amantium mutua collaudation•• laetari. Hinc est enim quòd De•• filius, qui, &c. aduertens pulchritudinem sanctae Agnetis, quam habuit in cor∣pore & anim••, benè commendat eam dicens, Quàm pulchra es, &c. In quibus quid••m verbis sancta Agnes tripliciter commendatur à Christo suo dilecto. Primò, &c. True it is (I must needs confesse) he hath had more care and conscience in other places; not because he made any bones to abuse the Scriptures, but for that he ingeniously confesseth, that he applyeth such or such places to some other then to him of whō they are written. For, serm. 6. De sancta Lucia, vpon these words: Lux in tenebris lucet▪ & tenebrae eam non comprehenderunt. Iohn. 1. he saith, Notate charissimi, quam∣uis istud verbum sit dictum de Christo, tamen conuenienter potest dici de sancta Lucia. In quibus quidem verbis tria notantur, in quibus sancta Lucia nobis tripliciter commenda∣tur, primum est nobilitas nominis, &c. But his impudency is much more intollera∣ble, when he doth not onely apply the text to another person, but wresteth and wringeth, choppeth and changeth that which maketh not for his purpose, or rather against him. For preaching of the conception of the blessed virgine, and going a∣bout to proue that she was not stained with originall sinne, he taketh a text which speaketh of the conception indeed, but that which is spoken of sin which accom∣panieth that conception, he leaueth quite out. Marke how Dauid Psal. 51. saith, Et in peccato concepit me mater mea, And in sinne hath my mother conceiued me. Now this gentle Sir Iohn, to the end he may apply this text to the virgin Mary, cutteth off these words & in peccato, and alleadgeth onely these concêpit me mater mea, my mo∣ther conceiued me. But what proper proofes he brings for confirmation hereof, shal∣be declared in the chapter next ensuing, where we will intreat of their questions; and therefore I will here onely alleadge this one example, Vnde benè dicitur illud. 1. Ioh. cap. 5. Tres sunt qui testimonium dant, scilicet, virgini Mariae, quòd sit sine origi∣nali peccato concepta. Et Danielis tertio. Hi tres quasi ex vno ore laudabant Deū, scilicet quòd matrem suā praeseruauit ab originali peccato. After they haue read the text, one handleth it one way, another, another. Some alleadge a morall or philosophicall sentence, as the author of the sermons dormi securè, who after he hath read his text, is by and by ouer head and eares in Aristotle. For example, straight after the fore∣said ••ext Psalm 51. Concepit me mater mea, you shall find these words, Notate charis∣simi, dicit Aristot. in lib. secundo de generatione & corruptione, quòd melius est esse quā non esse. Quum igitur Deus voluit Mariam, &c. And in the sermon de sancto Au∣gustino, Tu signaculum similitudinis Dei, plenus sapientiae, perfectus decore. Ezech. 18. Notate charissimi, dicit enim Aristot. 6. Topic. quòd imago est, cuius generatio est per im∣mutionem; hinc est enim quòd sanctus Augustinus, &c. And in the sermon de sancto Laurentio, victoriam & honorem acquirit, qui dat munera, Prouerb. 22. Notate charis∣simi, dicit Arist. 4. Ethicorum, quòd laus & gratiarum actio debetur danti à recipiente. Hinc est enim quòd sanctus Laurentius, &c. Now this quotatiō of Aristotles Ethicks puts me in mind of a deep diuine, who said, that if the scripture were lost, we might find a great part of it in Aristotles Morals. And we know that in old time, Aristotle and his expositors, were oftener alleadged in Theologicall disputations, then the Scripture or the anciēt fathers. But to return to the method which these preachers obserued in their sermons; some of them after they had read the text, or theame (as they speake) diuided the matter (which they were to entreat of) into certain heads. The old maner was, to make one part Allegoricall, another Anagogicall, and a third

Tropological: whereas they should haue made one part Morological, another Mytho∣logical, and a third Pseudological. Some beganne with canuasing of certaine questi∣ons: others vsed some other entrance. But to come to that which I promised to speake of, namely how they applyed these tales: their manner was (to the end they might apply their doctrine to the present occasion) to vse certaine diuisions, and to bring in euery branch of their diuision all the foolish fables they could possibly deuise. For example, Barelete handling this text, Quum haec diceret, extollens vocem quaedam mulier dicit, beatus venter qui te portauit: shortly after his entrance, hath these words: Applica Euangelium, de impedimentis confessionis erit sermo noster, in quo quin{que} impedimenta sunt videnda in praesenti. Primum dicitur pudor propalandi▪ secun∣dum dicitur timor recidiuandi: tertium, &c. All which points he handleth in order, alleadging sentences, as well out of prophane as Ecclesiasticall writers, and all such examples as he could remember, whether true or false, fitting the matter or not. As in handling the second part, Vna maxima est in Theologia (saith he) quòd Deus nouit omnia peccata nostra. Non debet peccator &c. And a litle after, ô Peccator, pecca∣ta tua sunt nota. Exemplo patet de Abbate Paphnutio, qui ad Thaidem meretricem per∣rexit in Alexandriam, fingens se esse mercatorem, & ipsam inuitat ad turpem actum. Quum{que} ad secundam & tertiam cameram peruenissent, tandem ipsum conducit ad lo∣cum secretiorem. Possumus (inquit Paphnutius) videri; respondit, nisi nos Deus videat, alius non videt. Credis (inquit) à Deo videri? Imò heu filia, quantum debemus erubesce∣re coram Deo, si erubescimus coram hominibus? Compuncta & lacrymis plena, acceptis rebus suis, quae erant pretio quadringentarum librarum, in medio Ciuitatis omnia con∣sumpsit, inuitans Iuuenes ad actum illum. Sanctus Dei ipsam conclusit in quodam loco, sigillans plumbo per annos tres in poenitentia. Ad propositum. Non erubescas confite∣ri, &c.

13 Now whereas I said, that they vsed the testimonies of prophane writers, it is to be obserued, that they quoted them not onely to proue morall or philoso∣phical, but sometimes also Theologicall conclusions. Barelete for example (vpon these words of the virgin Mary, Beatam me dicent omnes generationes) saith, that the Pa∣gans, the Sybils, Ouid and Virgil did write in her commendation, (fol. 71. col. 4.) albeit he alleadge but this one verse out of Virgil,

Vltima Cumaei venit iam carminis aetas.

He saith moreouer that the Saracens and Turks do worship her in their churches, and punish those that speake against her, as we may reade in the Alcoran. The au∣thor likewise of the sermons intituled Dormi securè, not content most impudently to wrest this place. 1. Ioh. 5. There are three which beare witnesse in heauen: expoun∣ding these words which beare witnesse, of the virgin Mary forsooth, that she was conceiued without sinne: affirming that by those three we are to vnderstand A∣lexander Niccam, Cardinall Bonauenture, and S. Bernard, of whom we are to speake more hereafter: Nor content to abuse this text, Daniel 3. These three as it were with one mouth praised God: in saying that they praised God, because he preserued his mo∣ther the virgin Mary from originall sinne. Not content (I say) with these false al∣legations and deprauations of Scripture, nor resting in the testimonies of the Do∣ctors of the Church, alleadgeth the Saracens, and Mahomets Acoran for confir∣mation hereof. Nec mirum (saith he) quòd ista affirmatio à Catholicis teneatur, cum e∣tiam Saraceni illud praeconium sibi attribuant: nam in quodam libro suo qui dicitur Al∣coran, qui liber fuit aeditus per discipulum Mahometi, & est authenticus inter eos, sic in∣quit Mahometi discipulus: Audiui nuntium Dei dicentem, Nullus de filijs Adam nascitur quem non tangat Satan, praeter Mariam & filium eius. Quapropter & ipse Ma∣hometus

collaudans virginem in suo Alcorano sic dicit, O Maria, Deus vtique deputauit te, & elegit te super foeminas saeculorum, O Maria, Deus annunciauit tibi verbum suum de se, nomen eius Messias, & Iesus Mariae filius honorabitur in hoc saculo & in alio, &c. Now here note that before he came to the testimony taken out of the Alcoran, he had alleadged all such texts of Scripture and testimonies of the Doctors as he thought would serue his turne, and had added thereto (the better to fortifie and strengthen his opinion) Sancta synodus dicit, quòd dicta sanctorum doctorum, scilicet Augustini, Hieronymi, & aliorum, à cunctis fidelibus sunt retinenda, sicut quatuor E∣uangelistae. But what after all this? He then proceeds to fables and fictions, and lying Legends: of the application whereof I now entreate. Tertiò (saith he) dico quòd virgo Maria est sine peccato originali concepta, quia est exemplis confirmatum: specia∣litèr autem tribus exemplis, quae facta sunt in tribus magnis doctoribus sanctae matris Ecclesiae, scilicet in magistro Alexandro Niccam, in domino Bonauentura Cardinali, & in sancto Bernardo. And what (trow we) containe these tales? Marry Sir how the virgin Mary was offended with such as held opinion that she was conceiued in sin; and namely with maister Alexander Niccam, who hauing giuen it out three sun∣dry times, that he would proue that she was conceiued in sinne, was euer preuen∣ted with sicknes, so that he could not performe his promise: and how afterwards renewing his purpose, the night before he was to proue his assertion, he fell into a grieuous disease. Where whē he called vpon the blessed virgin, she came presently vnto him, and said, Hanc infirmitatem pateris, pre eo quòd me esse conceptam in peccato originali probare niteris: That is, This sicknesse is inflicted vpon thee, because thou wen∣test about to proue, that I was conceiued in sin. And hauing so said, she tooke her maids knife, and therewith cut out a peece of rotten flesh out of his side, & with a needle and a silke threed (serico filo) sewed it vp againe. VVhereupon he did not onely re∣nounce that damnable opinion, but wrote a great booke for confirmation of the contrary. And as for the other two fables which I should here insert, I will deferre them to the end of the next Chapter. Now for a small conclusion, he bringeth this goodly allegation, of which I haue already spoken, Tres sunt qui testimonium dan•• (scilicet virgini Mariae) &c. See here (gentle Reader) how Rhetorically he casteth and contriueth his matter, in keeping these tales for his last and surest proofe. For marke how he marshalleth his arguments to proue quòd est concepta sine originali peccato: primò quia fuit à Deo praeseruata. Secundò, quia hoc est per sacram Scripturam praefiguratum, ac per dicta sacrorum doctorum approbatum. Tertiò, quia est exemplis prae∣nunciatum ac confirmatum. But how they made these tales to serue their turnes in the maine matter concerning either the wealth or the honour of our holy mother the Church, or both, I am to shew hereafter.

14 As for the tales which they are wont to tell vs in their Sermons, in honor of their Saints; their applications were such, that for euery vertue which they as∣cribed vnto them (and they would be sure to leaue out none by their good wils) they would (for an vnanswerable argument) adde one fable or other of something done or spoken by them.

CHAP. XXXV. Of sundry sorts of questions, and some no lesse impious then friuolous, wherewith the foresaid Preachers were al∣wayes ready furnished.

MOreouer, they spent one part of their Sermons in canuasing of cer∣taine questions which were as fond and friuolous, as foolish and fan∣tasticall as those aboue mentioned. Some of them (I say) were curi∣ous; others, not onely curious, but also vaine and friuolous; yea for the most part sottish and ridiculous: notwithstanding such curiositie (as it is well knowne) hath bene censured in all ages. For we see how greatly it of∣fended S. Paul, and many ancient Doctors after him: among the rest, S. Augustine (as I remember) telleth vs of one that shaped a fond fellow such an answer as his curious question well deserued. For hauing demaunded, what God did before he created the world: he answered him, that he made hell for such curious compani∣ons. And Constantine the Emperour sheweth in a certaine Epistle what mischiefe such curious questions brought with them. VVhich notwithstanding could not keepe Peter Lombard, Thomas Aquinas, and other Schoole-men from broaching thousands of such vnprofitable and friuolous quirkes and quiddities; nay some pernicious and blasphemous. Neither hath it kept our moderne Doctors from dis∣puting of them in the schooles, nor dayly coyning of new. And what (I beseech you) do these questions concerne? They concerne God, the diuinitie and huma∣nitie of Christ, and the Angels. As, Vtrum Deus posset peccare si vellet, &c. Whether God could sinne if he would? Whether he can make those things which he could in times past? Whether he can know any thing which he knoweth not? Whether he could haue ta∣ken vpon him humane nature in the weaker sexe? But these are reserued for the most illuminate Doctors (I say illuminatis Doctoribus) Vtrum plures in Christo filiationes? Item, Vtrum Deus potuerit suppositare mulierem, vel diabolum, vel asinum, vel cucur∣bitam, vel silicem? Et si suppositasset cucurbitam, quemadmodum fuerit concionatura, editura miracula, & quonam modo fuisset sixa cruci? Item, what should Saint Peter haue consecrated, if he had then consecrated when the body of Christ hung vpon the crosse? Itē, whether it shal be lawfull to eate and drinke after the resurrection? And con∣cerning the Angels: whether they agree wel together, or not? Whether God doth vse the ministery and seruice of all, or not? Whether they be grieued at the condemnation of those which are committed to their custody, or not? I omit the questions which are moued about the names of Angels and Archangels, their preheminences and seates, to wit, how high one is aduanced aboue another; and other speculations concerning their Hierarchy. They haue also sundry questions de notionibus, relationibus, instan∣tibus, formalitatibus, quidditatibus, ecceitatibus, and other such like bald and barba∣rous words, which seem to haue bin inuented of purpose to coniure diuels: which notwithstanding were ordinarily tossed vp and downe in the mouthes of schoole-doctors, as well Nominals as Reals; as Thomists, Albertists, Occamists, Scotists, and the rest. They haue also in former times vainly busied themselues; and do stil beate their braines euen at this day about fond and fantasticall questions, which they moue touching the articles of our faith and Christian beleefe: and namely tou∣ching the holy Sacrament of the Altar (as they call it) as we may see in a booke

called Cautelae Missae. And yet their skill was neuer such, in multiplying question vpon question about this point, but that a man might moue a nūber of others ne∣uer heard of before. And surely no maruell, considering their sacrifice is liable to so many and great inconueniences. For albeit they haue moued many doubts of the inconueniences that might befall their consecrated host, notwithstanding some such haue befallen it, as they would neuer haue dreamed of▪ For they speake not a word of such an accident as befell S. Francis (as it is recorded fol. 72. of the booke of Conformities, so often before alleadged) how he saying Masse vpon a time, found a Spider in the chalice, which he would not cast out of the cup, but dranke her vp together with the bloud; and afterwards rubbing and scratching his thigh where he felt it itch, caused her to come forth againe. This verily is such an accident as might minister matter of sundry other questions neuer heard of be∣fore. For first it may be asked, whether the bloud being so poysoned, had as great ver∣tue in it as if it had not bene poysoned? and whether it were of such a piercing nature that it could penetrate euen to Purgatory? Item, whether the Spider came thither of her owne accord, or rather by reuelation, aboue the strength and against the course and cur∣rent of nature? Item, whether she were partaker of the merits of the sacrifice? at leastwise whether she were sanctified or not? It may further be demanded, whether she could be made tipsie with this drinke, or not? And they that are well seene in such subtilties may yet moue two or three dozen of questiōs more: which made me say, that we are not to maruaile, if hitherto they could neuer find how to make an end of these questions, which this strange, mysticall, or mysterificall manner of sacrifice in∣gendreth.

2 Notwithstanding their case were not so greatly to be pitied, if they did but busie their heads and breake their braines about the former points: but they are so farre from resting there, that they will needs enter in Sanctum Sanctorum, euen in∣to Gods closet and secret counsell. And this their curiositie hath excited them through their foole-hardy inuention, to patch to the historicall books of the Bible a number of circumstantiall fooleries, as we may see by that which hath bene al∣ready spoken of their paraphrasticall expositions. Nay, they haue proceeded a step further, in subiecting the histories of the Bible (as they haue done the fables in their Legends) to such seruitude and slauery, that they come at their whistle, and tell them what was the name of Tobies dogge.

3 For exemplification of which particulars, to begin with curious questions wherein there is lesse danger: let vs heare the pleasant conceited reason alleadged by Menot (fol. 47. col. 4.) why Christ would not suffer Saint Peter to vse his sword. Because (saith he) he was not cunning at his weapon, as hauing neuer learned at the fence schoole; as wel appeared when he cut off Malchus his care, whereas he should haue cut off his head. For is it a seemely sight (thinke yee) to see one carry a booke at his belt, whereon he cannot reade? Euen so (saith he) it is as vnseemely a thing to see a man weare a sword by his side, who knowes not how to vse it. But to omit this bold & blind assertiō, let vs here obserue touching the cause which mo∣ued our Sauiour to giue this commandement to Peter (notwithstanding the true reason be most euident) two other points, which he holdeth as most certen truths, though no logician on the earth be able to conclude thē out of the text vpō which alone we are to ground our faith. First, that Saint Peter meant to haue cut off Mal∣chus his head when he cut of his eare, but that his blow somewhat missed. Second∣ly, that the blade wherewith he cut off his eare was a Rapier. I omit another par∣ticular no lesse pleasant then the former, viz. that Peter was then Pope: for he de∣mandeth,

Sed cur Dominus noluit quòd Petrus gladio vteretur, viso quòd Papa erat? And in very deed, this questiō hath exceedingly troubled many of their profoun∣dest Doctors and Preachers. For euen Pasquin himselfe obiected this sentence of our Sauior against the Pope: albeit he knew well enough how to shape him an an∣swer, as we may see in these two Epigrams.

The question.

Quum tibi non aetas habilis sit Caraphe bello, Et castris habeas cognita claustra magis: Quum desit miles, belli{que} pecunia neruus, Quis te praecipitem cogit ad arma furor? Infirmis humeris damnata quid induis arma? Quae tibi quum libeat ponere, non liceat Cur respirantem & curantem vuln••ra mundum Concutis, & Martem solus ad arma cies? Da miseris requiem, & spatium concede malorum, Si nobis pater es, si tua cura sumus: Conde senex gladium, & Christi reminiscere verbi: Quod dixit Petro, dixit & ille tibi.

The answer.

Quod dixit Petro Christus, nolim esse putetis Dictum (Pontificum pace Petri{que}) mihi. Nam ne{que} sum Petri successor, nec quoque talem Agnoscit bona pars Christicolarum hodie. Pauli ego (successu coeptis meliore deinceps Dij faueant) sumpsi nomen & arma simul: Et Christi verbi memor intrepidus{que} minister, Non veni pacem mittere, sed gladium.

4 And now to returne to Malchus whose eare Saint Peter cut off, thinki••g to haue cut of his head, but that he tooke his aime amisse; the same preacher saith, it was not without cause that Malchus was the high Priests seruant, seeing that Malchus signifieth a king; and hereupon he maketh this Catholick collection; that as Malchus was seruant to the high Priest, so the regall Maiestie of Kings and Emperours is subiect to the power of Priests. And here the naming of S. Peter puts me in mind of another question moued by the same Preacher; viz. Why Christ committed the keyes of the Church rather to S. Peter then to S. Iohn, who was euery inch as good a man as he? Marke his answer. S. Iohn (saith he) was Christs kinsman, and cosingerman; and therfore he committed thē not vnto him, but to Saint Peter, to giue a president in his owne example, how in bestowing Ecclesiasticall dignities we should not respect affinity or consanguinitie, but holynesse of life and conuer∣sation. To which also Moses had an eye, when in stead of resigning his soueraigne authority to his sonnes, (though wise and sufficient men) he resigned it to Ioshua, who was no way allied vnto him, as being of another tribe.

5 Moreouer, they haue their budgets full of other curious questions concer∣ning Christ and the virgin Mary, which they haue borrowed of their contēplatiue Doctors (as they call them) as of Landulphus, Bonauenture, &c. as namely, whether Christ euer laughed? Oliuer Maillard relying vpon the authority of Landulphus, an∣swereth that he wept often, but that he laughed not once in all his life: where he also patcheth together sundry curious questions, touching the garment which Christ wore; as that it was of ashe colour, that it was round both aboue and be∣low:

that it had round sleeues, and phylacteries and borders beneath, after the Iewish fashion. And that the virgin Mary wrought it all of needle worke. And that as Christ grew in stature, so his garment grew proportionally; and that it did not weare nor waxe old. Item, that the yeare before his passion he was accustomed to weare another slender garment vnder it. Menot againe (on the other side) holds it for a most certen truth, that his flesh was exceeding tender, yea so tender that it grieued him more to hit his heele against a litle stone, then if another had bene smitten in the apple of the eye: but take this reason with you; Quòd corpus eius suit formatum ex purissimis sanguinibus Beatissimae virginis Mariae. Further, seeing it was necessary the Church should know what was the greatest dolour and anguish that Christ suffered: they haue found that it was that bloody agony and painfull pan, gwhich seazed vpon him when he went into the garden at the twelft houre, and there sweat water and blood in such abundance, that it made a pretty brooke. But how came this secret to be knowne, may we thinke? verily not by the contem∣plation of these Doctors (as the rest) but by reuelation, shewed to a deuout womā who hath ease•• them of much labour in this behalfe. Yet this is not all: for they will needs take vpon them to know how the rods were made wherewith Christ was whipped in Pilats Pallace, (called the Praetorium) and how many stripes he had: as also how many thornes were in his crowne. And some of them haue bene rapt into so high contēplation, that they haue found out new stuffe in al this geare: as first, that an instrument was tyed to euery twig, which cut like a razor. Though in the number of stripes all mens contēplations do not fully agree. For according to the speculation of some deep Diuines, he had iust fiue thousand: wheras others say he had sixe thousand, viz. fiue thousand on his body, and a thousand on his head. Touching his crowne, Bonauenture saith, that there were a thousand thornes in it. But what kind of thornes were they? Dicit Lira, saith Oliuer Maillard, fol. 108. col. 2. Quòd erant de iunco marino. Et quaesiuit ab illis qui fu••rant cum Beato Lu∣••••uico rege in terra sancta, quòd quidam dixit quòd illae spinae penetrabant sotulares cū duplici semella, quantumcunque essent noui, & sortiter reparati. Corona erat sicut coro∣na Imperatoris, in qua erant mille cuspides: & ponebant super caput eius, prementes cum magnis baculis & lapidibus

6 But Saint Iohn hath made them worke enough in concealing what our Sa∣uiour writ with his finger vpon the ground, when the woman taken in adulterie was brought before him. And among sundry opinions touching this matter, Me∣not citeth certaine, fol. 138. col. 4. where he affirmeth that the man which was taken in adultery with her, hid himselfe behind the throng. And all on a th••umme in the former colume, you shall find an answer to a question touching the good thiefe▪ namely whether God can pardon any mans sins before he hath done penance, and made sati••faction.

7 And it neuer troubled them to tell what our Sauiour said to his Disciples, concerning the fig tree, which withered vp by the rootes; but imagined presently in their idle braines, that he told them that the fig-tree signified the Sinagogue of the Iewes which should shortly be destroyed, because God had cursed it. And he that will not credit this report, may reade Menot fol. 166. col. 3. where he giueth a reason why our Sauiour was then hungry, viz. because he had had but a short sup∣per. But why had he no better supper? Because (saith he) he came late to his lod∣ging. For they that come late to their Inne, get commonly but a slender pittance: Howbeit, he confesseth that it was no corporall but spirituall hunger, as some Do∣ctors affirme.

8 Ouer and besides all this, they haue made such diligent inquisition, as that they haue found out almost all the names of the men and women recorded in the Gospels, (that I may parallele that which I affirmed euen now concerning the name of T••bies dog) in such sort that there is not so much as the least halfe peny farthing Ganymede among them, but can answer readily to such questions. For example, they put it out of question, that the woman called a sinner, which came to annoint Christs feet as he sate at table in the Pharisies house, was called Mary Magdalen; and that she which said, Blessed is the wombe that bare thee, &c. was cal∣led Marcella, they hold as certen and sure, as if the Euangelist had said it. Barelete fol. 71. col. 3. Quum haec diceret, extollens vocem quadam mulier (scilicet sancta Mar∣cella, famula beatae Marthae, sororis Lazari) dixit, Beatus venter qui te portauit. Though Oliuer Maillard say onely, that it was one of Marthaes gentlewomen, fol. 140. col. 3. But when they were put to it indeed to find out some of those names, they vsed a new kind of Metamorphôsis; for when they could not tell the name of the soul∣dier that thrust our Sauiour into the side with a launce, they call him in plaine termes Lance: 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 in Greeke being as much as Lance in English: which name hath bin corrupted since, and pronounced Longi. But after he had crept into that credit to be registred among the Saints (by doing so meritorious a worke as the piercing of our Sauiours side) his name was augmented by a syllable, and he called (after the Latin termination) Longinus.

9 But their curiositie ranne ouer the brimme, when they came to handle such questions as these: whether Christ had not bin crucified, if Iudas had not betrayed him? whether the virgin Mary would haue crucified him, if none other would? The former of which you shal find in the Sermons of Barelet, fol. 158. col. 4. The lat∣ter, not onely in his Sermons, fol. 115. but also in Menots, fol. 169. col. 3. And (more the pitie) they are neuer noubled with such questions as these, but can resolue thē as easily as a squiril can crack a nut: whereas they sticke and stand (I meane they are not resolued, but wauer like the weather-cocke) in handling of other questions, which the very heathen made conscience once to call into question▪ Menot (for example) saith, Sed quicquid fit de corpore, anima quae peccauerit, ipsa morietur. Sic re∣linquo quaestionem arduam de immortalitate animae. But these two questions are no∣thing in comparison of those which I cited before out of Barelete in the Chapter of blasphemies, viz. what reasoning there was in heauen when it was debated and afterwards concluded that Christ should be incarnate in the wombe of the Vir∣gin, fol. 229. col. 4. Item, what a stirre there was among the disciples, when they con∣tended which of them should bring the virgin Mary word, that he was risen from the dead, fol. 164. col. 4. Item, what the Apostles said to the virgin Mary, being of∣fended that her sonne kept not touch with them in sending the holy Ghost. And what strife there was in heauen (ô most execrable blasphemy) betwixt the Father and the holy Ghost, both of them refusing to come downe vpon earth, for feare of being handled as Christ was, fol. 178. col. 1. But what terme I these questions? seeing he is as peremptory & resolute in auouching them, as if he had found them recorded in the Scripture.

10 I proceed now to another question, not altogether so impious as the for∣mer (especially as the three last) which I haue purposely kept for the winding vp of this Chapter, reseruing for it all the roome that remained, as being a question which seemes to chalenge thus much at my hands, that I should make a more large and ample discourse thereof. For there was neuer yet controuersie in Christian re∣ligion so stoutly, so vehemently, nor so virulently canuased and ventilated, tum∣bled

and tossed, opposed and defended. The Doctors of the Romane religion ne∣uer banded so one against another: neuer was there such hold and draw, such si∣ding and parts taking, such heauing and shouing about any question as about this: whether the virgin Mary was conceiued in originall sinne, or not? But the greatest stickling (which cost so many broken heads) was betwixt the Iacopins (or Iacobins) and the Franciscans: the Iacobins maintaining the affirmatiue, the Franciscans the negatiue. And here I remember a story to this purpose recorded in the French Chronicles: about the yeare 1384. there were certaine Doctors and others of the order of the preaching Friers, which taught publickly that she was conceiued in sinne; of which number there was one, who said, that if he did not proue it by pregnant proofes, he would giue them leaue to call him Huet. Whereupon when any of the foresaid preaching Iacobin Friers were seene in the streets in Paris, the common people would run after them, crying in derision aux Huets, aux Huets: so that they were ashamed euer after to shew their heads. And about this erroneous opinion, a great Councel of Cleargy men and others of note, was holden at Paris, where it was condemned in a full congregation by the Vniuersitie, and that in so∣lemne procession. This is that which our Chronicles (such as they are) report here∣of. Now let vs see how both sides bestirred themselues, and sweat about this que∣stion. A Iacobin of Francfort called Vigand, writ a booke about threescore yeares ago, wherein he defended that the virgin Mary was conceiued and borne in sinne: confuting all that held the contrary, as well ancient Doctors as moderne Diuines▪ censuring (among the rest) one Iohn Spengler a Franciscā; who being touched to the quick by the said Vigand, so belaboured the matter, that he procured a disputation to be holden at Heidelbergh: but Prince Philip Count Palatin of Rhein hindered it. Thereupon the Iacobin cited the Franciscan to appeare at Rome, where this que∣stion hauing hung a long time vpon the hinges, was then hung vp at a crooke. Certain yeares after it so fortuned that the Iacobins held a general Synod at Vimps∣sen, wherin it was debated how they might hold counterpoise against their aduer∣saries the Franciscans, & maintaine their opinion (notwithstanding it was reiected almost of all, and that many Doctors had writtē against it, and made the world be∣leeue the contrary by meanes of counterfet miracles) seeing there was no remedy but they were of necessitie to deuise one meanes or other, which they might haue in readines to help them at a dead lift, to counterfet some miracle as the Franciscās had done. And it being concluded in this conuentuall Synod, that they were to proceed by false miracles, it was agreed vpon that this pageant should be played by foure Iacobins of Berne, whose names I will afterwards set downe. To the end therefore they might come to the period of their purpose, hauing first communi∣cated with the diuell (to whom one of them which was a Necromancer directed the rest) and obtained a promise of ayd and furtherance, they lay euer after in the wind to spie what occasion they might to aduantage their cause. It happened not long after that a good fellow one Iohn Ietzer a tailor, borne at Zurzacke was admit∣ted and matriculated as one of their order: who not long after he had taken the ha∣bit, was visited in the night by one of these ghostly fathers, who wrapped in a sheet, went to his cell, and began to counterfet a spirit, making a great ratling noise by casting of stones, &c. Wherupon the poore nouice complaining to the 4. prin∣cipal of the order (the self same men who plotted this knauery, one of which coun∣terfetted the spirit) he was comforted and encouraged by them, and exhorted to patience. And one night the spirit spake to this poore nouice, charging him to do penance for him: which when he had made the foresaid Friers acquainted with,

they thought it their best course to cause him to do penance openly for the de∣liuering of the said spirit. Whereupon one of them began to preach of the spirit, and to tel the people why he did this penance: which was not done without extol∣ling of their order (which he had made choise of, that he might be relieued by their merits) and censuring that of the Franciscans. Now the spirit on a time did highly extoll the order of the Iacobins to this nouice, as well for the honest good men that were of it, as for the good discipline that was obserued in it: adding withall, that he was not ignorant how it was hated of many by reason of their Doctor S. Thomas, whō they follow in affirming that the virgin Mary was conceiued in sin: yet that many of these their maligners and euill willers were grieuously tormented by the iust iudgement of God: yea & that the towne of Berne should vtterly be destroyed if they expelled not the Franciscans from among them, for teaching that she was conceiued without sinne; and that Doctor Alexander of Hales and Iohn Scot (the subtill Doctor, both Franciscans) suffered great paine in Purgatory for maintai∣ning that opinion. In the end he fained it of his fingers, that the blessed Virgin her selfe did assure him of her polluted conception, resoluing him of sundry other points greatly controuerted among the Doctors: and that she printed in his right hand the signe of her sonnes passion, by piercing it with a sharpe naile: and after to asswage the paine of his wounds, gaue him a little lint made of the swadling bands wherewith she swadled him in Aegypt. Yet these foure Preachers not herewith content, caused him to drinke inchanted water, whereby they put him cleane out of the socket, and made him as mad as a march Hare; and hauing so done, printed in his body foure other wounds of Christ. Where the poore soule comming to himselfe againe by meanes of another water which they gaue him, wondered at his new wounds: notwithstanding they made him beleeue it was the handy work of God. After all this, they layd him in a litle parlour apart by himselfe, which was hung about with tapistry worke full of pictures, wherein the passion of Christ was pour••raited, by which he was to learne the countenances, gestures and behauiors of Christ: all which they did of purpose to delude the poore people, who had al∣ready heard of these goodly miracles. Besides, they caused him to play the passion before them, after they had made him serue out a long prentiship. They gaue him moreouer a drinke, which caused him to fome and froth at the mouth, making him beleeue that he encountered death most valiantly as Christ had done. To conclude, they played so many prankes with this poore Frier, that in the end he perceiued part of their knauery. Notwithstanding they handled the matter so cunningly, that they perswaded him all was Gospell: and vsed him not long after as their instrument to counterfet a miracle. But all their knauery (which was be∣fore greatly suspected) being at the last discouered and detected by this silly soule, (whom God had miraculously deliuered out of their hands, they hauing attemp∣ted so many wayes to bring him to his end) a round course was taken with these holy fathers. For after that the Cleargy (who had laboured long to saue their liues, but all in vaine) had committed them ouer to the secular power: they were bur∣ned in the towne medow of Berne, right ouer against the Couent of the Francis∣cans. Their names were Iohn Vetter Priour, Stephen Boltzhorst Preacher, Francis Vl∣chi Subpriour (who was a Necromancer and counterfetted the spirit,) and Henry Steniecker Receiuer. I haue here omitted sundry like pageants played by these Ia∣cobins, which the Reader may find at large in the history written of this Tragedy. See here (gentle Reader) how horne-mad these fond Friers were, in being driuen to such extasies of deuices to defend their opinions, and to hold counterpoise

against their aduersaries. Which (doubtlesse) they did, not for any great zeale they had of the truth, but in an ambitious humour which made them burst almost for anger, to see the opinion of the Franciscans (their vtter enemies) in such request, embraced and applauded of all.

11 Let vs now heare how the iolly Preacher Barelete sends these Franciscans packing, together with their opinion, calling them aemulos of his order. First there∣fore hauing affirmed that he had nine and forty Doctors of his opinion (whereof he quoted the greatest part) he beginneth in this sort. Quid vobis videtur ciues mei super hoc? Quare omnes religiones non pugnant pro doctoribus suis? Ecce quot doctores, quot sapientes hoc affirmant? Sed dicunt aemuli nostri quòd fuit priuilegiata, quia à pec∣cato praeseruata. Ostendant illud priuilegium, & eis fidem dabimus. And he alleadges a passage out of Alexander of Hales, where he setteth downe his opinion cleane cōtrary to that, for the which the foresaid spirit (suborned by the Iacobins of Berne) gaue it out that he was tormented in Purgatory. Si beata virgo Maria non fuisset concepta in peccato originali, non fuisset obligata peccato, nec poenae, nec habuisset reatum peccati. Sed qui non habet reatum peccati, non indiget redemptione (quia redemptio est solùm propter obligationem peccati, vel poenae, & propter reatum peccati.) Ergo beata virgo non indiguisset redemptione: quod non est secundum Catholicam fidem ponendū. Which being so, the foresaid spirit suborned by these Iacobins had small reason to cause this poore soule to be so grieuously tormented in Purgatory, considering he here yeeldeth vnto them what euer they desire. But I leaue this controuersie to Barelete, who in the beginning of his Sermon saith, Non solùm antiqui doctores, sed etiam posteriores tenuerunt, & in scripturis reliquerunt, quòd virgo beata, & omnes ho∣mines (praeter Christum) in sui conceptione peccatum contraxerunt: quod patet triplici testimonio inpraesentiarum. Primò Ecclesiae doctorum: secundò Canonistarum: tertiò Re∣ligionum.

12 On the other side, Oliuer Maillard in one of his Sermons bringeth in two dames, viz. truth and falshood, deliuering their opinions dialogue-wise tou∣ching this article, where first falshood beginneth thus: I affirme that the virgin Mary was conceiued in sinne, during which time she was the child of wrath, and vnder the curse; and that if she had not bene redeemed by the death of Christ, she had bin condemned: which I wil proue by sundry argumēts. First, Dauid saith, I was borne in iniquitie, and in sinne hath my mother conceiued me. Now after that Falshood had alleadged sundry reasons to this purpose, Truth beginneth in this sort: Madame, I cannot endure to heare that the Virgine who brused the Ser∣pents head, and was frō all eternitie chosen of God to be the mother of our Lord, should so much as for a moment be vnder the wrath of God. In the end, after that Truth had said that it was true indeed, that she was in danger to haue fallen into sinne, but that she had a speciall priuiledge. It was asked her, But what say you (Madame) to the opinions of so many Doctors, as S. Bernard, Thomas of Aquine, Bonauenture, Guydo, &c. To this she answered (to cut off all occasion of further dis∣putation) that before the Church had determined it, it was lawfull to hold either way; but now sith the Councell of Basil is of another opinion, it is dangerous to hold the contrary: and for my part I thinke it no better then plaine heresie. And the words of my text (saith Maillard) are plaine and pregnant for it: Tota pulchra es amica mea, & macula non est in te: Cant. 4. That is, Thou art all faire my loue, and there is no blemish in thee.

13 But the authour of the Sermons intituled Dormisecurè bringeth in other manner of proofes. For he alleadgeth three miracles which were wrought of pur∣pose,

for confirmation of this opiniō: hauing first bene so bold as with an impudēt Satanicall spirit to falsify the saying off the Psalmist, in cutting of that which made not for his purpose; and in stead of Et in peccato concêpit me mater mea, alleadging onely these words concêpit me mater mea; taking them for his text and subiect of the discourse which he made of the conception of the blessed Virgin, & applying thē vnto her: whence he labors to proue that she was not conceiued in sinne: and that by three kind of arguments. First, because God preserued her from sinne (for he beggeth the question, or rather takes that for granted, which is most of all contro∣uerted.) Secondly, for that it was prefigured in the Scriptures, and auouched by the Doctors of the Church. Thirdly, for that it was cōfirmed by examples. But by what examples I beseech you? Verily by lying wonders, & counterfait miracles: the very same wherewith the Iacobins were wont to vpbraid the Franciscans. The first is of a certaine Magister noster (called Alexander) who hauing giuen it out, that he would prooue the blessed Virgin to haue bene conceiued in sinne, was three times together taken with an infirmitie, so that he could not make good his promise. And afterward appointing a day wherin he wold determine this questiō, he fell the night before into a grieuous disease: where as he lay sore pained, he cal∣led vpon the virgin Mary: who came to him forthwith, & told him, this crosse was laid vpon him, because he went about to proue that she was conceiued in sin. And hauing so said, she tooke her maids knife and therwith cut a peece of corrupt flesh out of his side, and with a needle and silken threed (Serico filo) sewed it vp againe, and so departed. Now she was no sooner departed, but he felt himselfe wel amen∣ded, and reuealed the whole matter to a scholler which lay in the chamber with him: and euer after renounced his former opinion: and not so onely, but writ a great booke as big as a dung-hill, in defence of the contrary. The second fable is this: A deuout Minorite, going euery night into the Quire, to patter ouer his pray∣ers, heard commonly a buzzing noise vpon the virgin Maryes Altar, much like the buzzing of a flye: and wondering what it should be, he spake vnto it on a time and said, I adiure thee in the name of our Lord Iesus Christ▪ that thou tell me what thou art. By and by a voice answered, I am Bonauenture. O famous Doctor (quoth he) in what tearmes stands the matter with you? what is the reason you make this noise? who answered, I shal shortly be wel and in happy estate, for I am one of those that shalbe saued. Only because I held that damnable opinion that the blessed Virgin was conceiued in sinne, I suffer here my Purgatory, and do penance vpon her Al∣tar; but as soone as I am purged hereof, I shall go straight to heauen. Vnde (saith he) Bonauentura potest de ista conclusione dicere illud Psalmi: Propter te mortificamur tota die. The third is of Saint Bernard, viz. that after his death he appeared to one with a marke vpon him; and told him that he had that marke set vpon him for maintai∣ning her polluted conception. Thus we see (if we may beleeue these fables) how the virgin Mary was reuenged on them which held any such opinion of her, as she misliked. But let vs heare what great delight she tooke in those that celebrated the feast of her conception. A certaine Abbot called Helsin being on a time neare drowning, saw a man apparelled like a Bishop in his Pontificalibus (who if we may beleeue Barelet, was an Angell at the least) who asked him if he desired to returne in safety into his country againe. The Abbot answering with teares, that he desired it with al his heart; he said: Vnderstād then (quoth he) that I was sent vnto thee by our blessed Lady (mother of our Lord) whom thou hast so instantly called vpon: and that thou, and all that are with thee shall escape, if thou wilt promise me to ce∣lebrate the feast of her conception euery yeare with solemne procession▪ and teach

that it ought to be celebrated. Which the Abbot hauing requested him to ap∣point the time when, and the maner how he would haue it kept, promised to per∣forme. And so he and all his company escaped that danger. Which tale Barelet al∣so telleth; adding withall, that it was an Angell which appeared to him: where he further brings another argument grounded vpon this fable; That (saith he) which is reuealed by an Angell, ought to be holden for a certen truth: but an Angell re∣uealed that the virgin Mary was conceiued without sinne (as appeareth by the sto∣ry of the Abbot Helsine) who, &c. therefore we must firmly beleeue that she was conceiued without sinne. He further alleadgeth three other arguments for confir∣mation hereof, of such excellent good grace, that I could not in conscience omit them. His first argument is this. That which most men affirme, is to be holden as a certen truth. But most affirme that the blessed Virgin was conceiued without sin. Ergo we are to hold that she was conceiued without sinne. His second argument: No feast is celebrated but in remembrance of some holy thing. The feast of the Virgins conception is celebrated. Ergô her conception was holy: and consequent∣ly she was not stained with originall sinne. His third argument; Pardons are not granted but for some holy end: Pope Sixtus the fourth gaue pardon to all that ce∣lebrated the feast of the conception of the blessed Lady during her Octaues. Ergo, her conception was holy.

15 I will hereunto adde another, which will make vs lesse to wonder at the former; viz. how she honored those that honored her. About the yeare 1470. vnder Pope Sixtus the fourth, one Allen of Roche a Iacobin Fryer forged the Vir∣gin Maryes Psalter (called the Rosarie and preached it in stead of the Gospel: and not herewith content, instituted a Fraternitie therof, which was approoued by the Popes buls, with large grants of indulgences. And Iames Sprenger Prouincial of Germany countererfaited sundry miracles for the authorizing thereof. Nay, they were not ashamed to publish a book of this blessed brotherhood: in the beginning whereof it is said, that the virgin Mary comming on a time into Allens cell, made a ring of her haire, wherewith she maried him: as also that she kissed him, and offe∣red him her paps to handle, and sucke. In some, that she was as familiar with him as a woman is with her husband.

16 And now (gentle Reader) I hope I haue sufficiently informed thee touch∣ing the questions moued by these illuminate Doctors, and of their manner of di∣sputation; as also what hard hold there was betwixt them, each side tugging for their order, and working miracles in despight of their opposites, for confirmation of their opinions. At leastwise what hot bickering there was about this last questi∣on: and how Truth in the end gaue Falshood the foile. Now albeit I am not igno∣rant that there are many cart loades of other questions which haue bene canuased by the schoole Doctors: yet these I hope may suffice to discouer the folly which raigned in those dayes, and still swayeth the Popish cleargie euen at this day; who do not onely busie their heads and beate their braines, about the foresaid questi∣ons, but about others also of as great moment: as whether Ascention day, or Hal∣low-masse (otherwise called all Saints) be the greater Holiday? Some alleadging that God is greater then the Saints. Others, that he can be no more without his Saints then a king without his courtiers.

17 But it is high time I should here remember my self: for discoursing in this chapter of those wise masters who can tell you the name of Tobies dog, or any man or womans name purposely concealed in the Gospell; I forgot to speake of those profound preachers, who affirme that the child which our Sauiour set in the mid∣dest

of his disciples (when they contended which of them should be the greatest) was Ignatius, afterwards called Saint Ignatius, Saint Iohns disciple, as some affirme: and of those fond Fryers, who taught that Cleopas his companion, mentioned by Saint Luke, was Luke himselfe: and that it was Nathanael who was afterward cal∣led S. Vrsine. As also how they are not contented to know that the disciple (whose name is concealed Iohn 18. was Iohn himselfe: but will further search how he came acquainted with the high Priest: and they haue made such diligent inquirie into old records (as witnesseth that lying diuell Nicephorus) that they haue found, that he came to be knowne of the high Priest, by selling him his fathers house.

CHAP. XXXVI. Of certaine fine fetches and daintie deuices vsed by the foresaid Preachers to make their auditors laugh or weepe; to winne an opinion of holinesse, and to keepe their kitchins hot: as also of their foolish and ridiculous speeches.

ALbeit these iolly Preachers (formerly spoken of) held this opinion, and taught it as a most certen truth, that Christ neuer laughed in all his life: yet they followed not his example herein. What say I, fol∣lowed? Nay, they tooke such pleasure in ridiculous and Scoggin-like speeches, as that they were not ashamed in preaching of the passion, to vse sundry ridiculous ieasts, and diuers sorts of quips and girding taunts: and some no•• herewith content, haue vsed many apish gestures tending to this end. Of which number there was a Franciscan, who hauing layd a wager that he would make the one halfe of his auditors laugh, and the other halfe weepe, at the same instant, and that vpon good friday; vsed this deuice: He put on a garment which was very short behind, leauing off his breeches. Then standing in the mid∣dest of his auditory in a pulpit which was open behind, he began to exclaime a∣gainst the impietie of the Iewes, declaring the excessiue torments which they in∣flicted vpon our Sauiour Christ: and withall bowed his head and his shoulders, and crossed his armes in such sort, that he layed open all his hinder parts; which those behind the pulpit had no sooner espied, but they brake out into a great laughter. Contrarily, those that stood before him could not forbeare weeping by reason of his patheticall speeches and tragicall gestures. And thus he wonne the wager, making the one halfe to laugh and the other halfe to weepe at the same time.

2 Another Franciscan (called by Erasmus, Robert Liciensis) hauing boasted at a banket, that he could make his auditors weepe when he listed: one of the com∣pany laughed him to scorne, and said, that he might haply make some silly soules, as women, idiots or yong children to weepe, but that it was impossible he should make any man weepe that had any wit. At which words the Monk was halfe mad to be so mocked, and said, You then (Sir) that seeme to be so graue, come to mor∣row to my Sermon, and stand in the place that I shall appoint you, right ouer a∣gainst me, and if I do not make you weepe, I will giue this company a banquet; but if I do, you shall giue me one. It being thus agreed vpon, he went the next day and sate where the Monke appointed him. Then came in the Franciscan, proui∣ded

to preach, and not vnmindful of his wager, began to discourse of Gods boun∣tie and goodnesse towards men, and how they shewed themselues vngratefull for his dayly blessings bestowed vpon them: and that they were so hardened in their wicked wayes, that they could not be reclaimed by any meanes, nor drawne by any perswasion to repentance, or to mutuall loue and charitie one towards ano∣ther. Then pressing the point a litle further, in the end he brought in God himself speaking on this wise: O heart harder then steele, ô heart harder then the adamant: The steele is softened with fire, the adamant is dissolued with goates bloud: but do I what I can, yet can I not make thee shed one teare. And not content to haue spoken it once or twice, he repeated it againe and againe, raising his voice louder and louder: so that at the last the man that had layd the wager with him, could forbeare weeping no more then his fellowes. Which when the Franciscan espied, he stretched out his hand and said, I haue won. These words his auditors tooke as spoken in the person of God; as if he should haue said, I haue preuailed, as ha∣uing obtained that which I desired, viz. the mollifying and softening of their hearts.

3 The same Robert kept a sweet heart by the dispensation of his S. Francis, who told him on a time that she liked him well in all points, were it not for his ha∣bit. I pray thee then (quoth he) tell me in what habit thou likest me best? In the habit of a souldier (quoth she.) Go to, said the Frier, faile not to come to my Ser∣mon to morrow. Now the next morning he went into the pulpit with his sword by his side, armed souldier-like at all points, vnder his gowne. And beginning his Sermon with an exhortation to Princes to wage warre against the Saracens, Turks, and other enemies of Christendome, in the end he brake forth into these words: Is it not a lamentable thing that no man will offer himselfe to be Chieftaine of so laudable an enterprise? If that be the matter, behold I am here ready to pul off this habit of S. Francis, and to serue as a captain or common souldier. At which words he cast off his gowne, and preached halfe an houre in the habit of a captaine. Not long after being sent for by certaine Cardinals his friends, and demaunded the cause of this his new kinde of preaching: he answered, that he did it to please his sweet heart, as hath bin said.

4 The same Robert being to preach before the Pope and his Cardinals; when he had well considered all their pompe, and how they reuerenced and adored the Pope, said neuer a word, but Fie Saint Peter, Fie Saint Paul: which when he had di∣uers times repeated, spitting first on the one side, and then on the other (as those whose stomacks are ouercharged,) he went out of the pulpit, leauing all his audi∣tors much amazed; some thinking he had bene bereft of his wits: others, that he had bene tainted with some heresie. And as they were ready to imprison him, a Cardinal (who knew his humor better then the rest, and bare him some good wil) made meanes to the Pope that he might be sent for, to giue a reason before him and the Cardinals there present, of those words. Whereupon being demaunded what he meant by such horrible blasphemy? he answered that his purpose was to haue spoken of another argument (which he expounded vnto them summarily) but considering (quoth he) that you so enioy your pleasures in this world, and that there is no pompe nor magnificence like to yours: and on the other side, con∣sidering in what great pouertie, anguish and misery the Apostles liued, I thought with my selfe, doubtlesse either the Apostles were great fooles to take such a tedi∣ous and troublesome way to go to heauen, or these men are in the ready way to hell. But as for you (Sirs) which keepe the keyes of the kingdome of heauen,

I cannot conceiue amisse of you: as for the Apostles, I cannot but scorne them as the veriest fooles in the world, in that liuing as you do, they might haue gone to heauen, yet chose rather to leade such a strict and painfull life.

5 I now proceed to the inuentions of other Popish Preachers recorded by the same author out of whom I had all my former stories, namely by Erasmus. A certaine Preacher hauing a long time cried out against such as addicted and deuo∣ted themselues to the seruice of the diuell, represented to them vpon the sodaine a man with a vizard on his face, hauing eyes like flaming fire, a great crooked beak, teeth like a wild Boare, and crooked nailes, holding a forke of a strange fashion in his hand, casting out a hideous voice: who whilest they all looked stedfastly vpon him, said, See what a maister you serue, setting Christ aside. Which story I will here pa∣rallele with another very fit for this purpose, which was payed me or rather giuen me in exchange for the former, by a gentlewoman of Lorraine, my very friend, of one that preached in a village in Lorraine, who after he had shewed his auditors that they should all go to hell except they did amend. And what (quoth he) do you thinke hell is? Do you see that hole? I tell you it stinkes ill, but hell stinkes farre worse. Where note, that the hole which he shewed them was the Sextons poste∣riorums, who agreed with him to play this pageant.

6 I returne to Erasmus, who reports that he had seene certaine Monkes, who passing through the throng to go to the pulpit, couered their faces with their couls, and when they kneeled downe to pray to the fountaine of grace, and said their Aue Maria, knocked their knees so hard against the bottome of the pulpit, that all the Church might heare the noise. He saith also that he heard report of an Italian preacher, who going into the pulpit, couered his head with a cloake▪ that he neuer preached in Churches but in the open aire: that he would not admit any man to come and talke with him (for he denied that fauour to Princes) that he lay vpon the hard boords, contenting himselfe with bread and water; that he had a pale and leane face as if it had bin the very picture of death: that he spake by an Interpreter, and vsed strange gestures and outcries, by which he did affright the people; somtimes thrusting his head into an halter, counterfaiting with his eyes those that are strangled, and then better aduised, and (as it were) coming to himselfe againe, vncouering himselfe and striking his breast with his fist, cryed in his Italian, Miseri∣cordia, Misericordia: that he vsed bitterly to inueigh against dice, cards, and tabers, as also against such as wore feathers, so that he pulled on a time a feather out of a gent••••••ans hat, who sate neare the pulpit, & rent it in a thousand peeces, casting it here and there among the people, making horrible outcryes. He also reports of a∣nother who hauing made a long and vehement inuectiue against the wickednesse of the people in crucifying Christ afresh, shewed them a crucifixe, whereunto were tied bladders full of bloud, which sprang forth when he touched them, and thereof ••e tooke and sprinkled among the people.

7 But let vs now listen to the actions and speeches of these gentle Sir Iohns, of some of which my self am witnesse: others I haue heard, and others I haue read: some in the newes of the Queene of Nauarre, and others elsewhere. I haue heard of one who preaching at Orleans, iested and gibed at his auditors, telling them that he would shew them a cuckold, and thereupon made as if he would haue cast a stone at him: where when they all stouped downe for feare of being hit: Oh, oh, (quoth he) I had thought there had bene but one, but now I see you are all cuc∣kolds.

8 Another in the countrey of Beauuois preaching in a medow, hauing migh∣tily

inueyed against the Lutherans, told his auditors that he was much afraid lest some of them were infected with the leauen of their diuellish doctrine: & therfore desired those whose conscience told them they were not tainted therewith, but were good and sound Catholickes, to kneele downe and to take a mouth-full of grasse with their teeth, in honor of our holy mother the Church▪ which he seeing them do, and laughing at them, said,

Depuis l'heure que Dieu me fit naistre, Ie ne vi tant de bestes paistr••.

That is,

Long haue I liu'd, and liuing haue bene heeding, So many beasts yet neuer saw I feeding.

9 Moreouer, when they were in a pelting chafe and fustian fume against their auditors: their maner was not to spare no not the diuell himself; witnesse, M. Iohn Fouët vicar of Villers in Tartenois, who said to his parishioners, seeing you will not amend, the diuel wil take you, and me after. Witnesse also another Curate who said, you make no reckoning of any thing I tell you, but grow euery day worse and worse; in the meane time I am charged with your soules, which I bequeath to great Beelzebub. But when I speake of mens soules giuen in charge to Curates, I should do the Curate of Pierrebuffiere in high Limosin great wrong, if I should forget him. This profound preacher, to the end he might the better ex∣hort his parishioners to liue wel, told them: At the day of iudgement (said he) God wil call me to giue an account of you, and will say vnto me, Curat of Pierrebuffie∣re, what hast thou done with thy sheepe? Then shall I haue neuer a word to say. Which words he repeated 3. times, hiding himselfe euery time in the pulpit: and hauing so done, he lift vp his head & said; I know what I will answer: Beasts, ô Lord thou gauest them me, and beasts I returne them. True it is, that this cannot haue so good a grace being translated into English, as it hath in his proper dialect, being couched in absurd and barbarous Limosin termes; and therefore I caused it to be transcribed out of the originall, as followeth, Quan se vendro lou iour deu iugamen, Diou me demandaro que you ly rendo conte de vou autre: & me apelaro, Chapelo de Pey∣rebusieyro, en qual eytat son ta olia? & you ny mot. Et eu •••• apelaro en quero, & diro, Chapelo de Peyrebufieyro, en quel eytat son ta olia? Et you ny mot. Et enquero eu me di∣ro, Chaphelo de Peyrebufieyro, en quel eytat son ta olia? Iusque a tre viague; Et you ly rey∣pondray, Seigne, beytia la m•• beylada, & beytia la te rendi. But to parallele the ex∣ample of the Priest, who (as Erasmus reporteth) shewed the crucifix to his auditors: I haue heard it constantly affirmed, that there was a Monke at Blois (about twenty yeares ago) who preaching late vpon All Saints day, in a darke place, had a yong nouice behind him, who eftsoones held vp a dead mans head fastened to the end of a staffe, with a candle within it: which he did to make them the more afraide of the dead; as in truth it strooke such a terror into the hearts of certain women, that (as it is reported) it caused them to trauaile before their time.

10 And to quite the former story of Robert Liciensis (who so astonished the Pope and his Cardinals by these words which he spake as soone as he was come into the pulpit, Fy Saint Peter, Fy Saint Paul; I remēber one who began his sermō in this sort: By the blood, by the flesh, by the death of Christ, we are redeemed. Making his auditors much to maruaile in that he made a litle pause after he had said, By the blood, by the flesh, by the death of Christ. Which I heard reported by an ancient father, who said he heard it from his owne mouth. Howbeit some say he spake thus▪ By Gods blood we are saued, by Gods death we are redeemed. Further, this putteth me

in mind of the profanenesse of two Chanons of Blois, one of which being Godfa∣ther to one Iohn Gods sonne, called him Death; the other being Godfather to his daughter, called her Vertue; so that ioyning the proper names to the sirname, the sonne was called Death God, and the daughter Vertue God. Howbeit these names (as some say) were changed at their confirmation.

11 Now this kind of swearing puts me in mind of a Curate in Paris, whose Sermons serued many players in stead of Comedies. This iolly gentleman made no conscience to sweare by God in the pulpit, in despite of the Lutherans. For go∣ing about to proue that they were worse then the diuell; The diuell (quoth he) wil runne away as soone as I make the signe of the crosse, but if I should make a crosse before a Lutheran, by G. he would flie in my face and throttle me. And seeing I haue begun to speake of this Curate, I will here prosecute the rest of his Legend, at least so farre as I know. For (if we may beleeue his owne testimony) he is a man (doubtlesse) whom God hath graced with excellent gifts: I say, if we may beleeue his owne testimony: for in a certaine Sermon he said, he maruelled what should be the reason that other Curates in this towne preached not so well as he; they wil say (quoth he) they want learning, and you know well enough how that a yeare ago I knew nothing, and now you see how learnedly I preach. In another Ser∣mon he purged himself of a false aspersion and imputation, by no other argument th••n the testimony of his sister. There are some (quoth he) which prate that I keepe whores in my house; lo there is my sister (pointing to her with his finger) who should know if there were any such such matter, (for I must go through her chamber to come to my lodging) let her speake aloud whether it be so or not. The same Doctor (who became so learned in one yeare) hauing caried a paper in∣to the pulpit, wherein the Bishop of Paris and the Officiall excommunicated cer∣taine of his parishioners, and hauing let it fal into a hole of the pulpit, he bethought himselfe of a daintie deuice neuer heard of before, and such it may be as neuer any man dreamed of: for hauing forgotten their names, and lost his paper wherein they were written, he said, I excommunicate all that are in this hole. But after he had better bethought himselfe of the names of those who were fallen into the hole (that is to say, who were written in the paper which fel into the hole) he said he ex∣cepted the Bishop of Paris and his Officiall. The same Preacher being angry on a time at little children, for going vp and downe the streets and singing filthy songs; A rablement of bastards (quoth he) gad vp and downe the towne, singing such and such songs: I would I were their father, ô how I would curry them. He also iested merily on a time as he was discoursing with Henry the second (who sent for him for that purpose:) for the King hauing asked him of his parishioners; he said they might be good enough, for he preached to them dayly. The King hauing further demaunded of him, how they caried and demeaned themselues: They are (quoth he) very demure in my presence, and ready to do all that I cōmand them; but as soone as my taile is turned, Soufflez Sire: which answer the King tooke in good part, because it was not spoken in knauery, no more then his other descants which he vsed ordinarily in his Sermons. For if it had bene perceiued that he had aequiuocated of set purpose in the word Soufflez (which besides his proper signi∣fication, namely blow, is taken of the common people in the same sence with De belles, that is, Tush, he prates, or he talkes idlely,) I beleeue they would haue taught him to haue blowne after another fashion.

12 But to returne to the Sermons of this idle Doctor, he shewed on a time a fine conceit (although by his owne confession he got all his learning in a yeare)

when he vsed no other reason but the authoritie of his horse to confute those that denied Purgatory: whereas others haue trauailed both in petty and pro∣found, yea in most illuminate Doctors, euen Saint Patricke himselfe, and haue al∣leadged the apparitions of sundry cart-loades of soules comming out of another world, to proue the point; and yet haue had their mouthes stopped. For this gen∣tle Sir Iohn (inueying against the Lutherans, for that they would not beleeue Pur∣gatory) reasoned against them in this sort: I will tell you (quoth he) a story, where∣by you shall see what wicked fellowes they be to deny Purgatory. I am (as you know) the son of Maister E.N. (now deceased) & we haue a faire house at S. An∣tonies bridge; whither going on a time, as I was benighted, my horse which caried my maile (you must know he is a good one, and at your seruice, Sirs) staid (against his custome) and began to cry Pouf, pouf. Whereupon I said to my man, Spurre, spur. Sir (quoth he) I spur him; but certenly he seeth something. Then I remēbred how that I had heard it told my deceased mother, that certaine apparitions had bene seene in that place; and thereupon I said my Pater noster and my Aue Mary, which my good mother taught me, and hauing so done, I bad my man spurre a∣gaine, which he did. Then my horse going but three or foure steps further, stood stone still, and cried againe Pouf, pouf. And my man assuring me that he saw some∣thing, I said my De profundis, which my father taught me: and presently my horse went forward. But staying the third time, I had no sooner said Auete omnes animae, & requiem aeternam, but he went freely, and neuer stopped nor stayed after. Now then seeing these wicked hereticks say that there is no Purgatory, & that we ought not to pray for the dead, I send them to my horse which carieth my maile, I say to my maile horse to learne their lesson.

13 Neither must this worshipfull Curate beare away all the praise of such subtility. For a Iacobin Fryer called Deuolay may well match him, who vsed a very subtle comparison to proue a point, where all their Doctors had lost their Latine. These wicked Lutherans (quoth he) will not beleeue that the body and blood of Christ is in the Sacrament of the Altar. For (say they) if it were so, they should thē see it. But come hither great foole; when thou hast a venaison pastie, dost thou not say it is such or such a pasty? and yet thou seest not what is within it.

14 We dayly heare of sundry other cōparisons vsed by these Preachers: some of which are plainly ridiculous, others not only ridiculous, but also absurd & scur∣rilous; yea so many wayes profaning Christiā religion, that they may well be coū∣ted impious & blasphemous. For though we should pardon those which compa∣red the grace of God to goats dung (in saying that as a goat being got to the top of an ouen dungeth here and there, so as it runneth down on euery side: so the grace of God disperseth it selfe euery where.) Yet what shall we say of those compani∣ons who so profane the mysterie of the holy Trinitie, as that they sticke not to cō∣pare it to a paire of breeches? But how they applyed it, (though I haue often heard it) I tremble to write. And the comparison which was made by a good fellow, who bare no great good wil to Fryer Francis nor any of his Fraternity, was no lesse wic∣ked, though much more witty and of far better grace then the former, when he re∣sembled the holy Trinitie to a Franciscan, in saying that as there were three per∣sons in the Trinity & yet but one God: so a Franciscan was shauen like a foole, gray like a wolfe, tyed with a cord like a theefe; and yet but one man. He spake also very profanely (though ridiculously) who told foure souldiers (whom he saw out of the pulpit in the midst of his sermon) that they were in all things like vnto Christ. He was taken (said he) so shall you be: he was brought before the Iudge, so shall

you be: he was bound with cords like a theefe, so shall you be: he was whipped, so shall you be: he was led to the gallowes, so shall you be: he descended into hell; so shall you I warrant you: but he came backe againe, so shall you neuer. But if we would haue a very fit and proper comparison indeed, we must returne to the Cu∣rate mentioned before, whose sermons serued many in stead of play bookes or pleasant iests to passe away the time. For preaching on a time of the golden Image which Nabuchodonazor set vp, Dan. 3. It was (quoth he) a villanous great Idol like our S. Eustace; but it was all of solide gold, would to God our S. Eustace were like it.

15 If any desire to heare other comparisons of the like straine, he may haue re∣course to old folkes, who haue good memories, or he may reade the worthy works which some of these iolly Preachers haue left behind them; as namely the Ser∣mons of Menot who saith (fol. 115. col. 2.) that they haue the same custome in Pa∣radise which they haue in Innes in Spaine. The custome (quoth he) of Paradise is to pay before meate, as they do in Spaine, where the guests that come to an Inne must buy their meate beforehand, if they wil any. Thus Lazarus first payed in this world, in enduring many miseries, and after feasted in Paradise. Whereas the cu∣stome of hell, is first to make good cheare, and after to pay for it, as they do in France. Thus the rich man feasted in this world, but now is gone to hell to reckon with his host. And fol. 140. col. 4. he is much more pleasant, discoursing of the re∣past which our Sauiour gaue to those fiue thousand mentioned in the Gospel. For first (saith he) seeing the text saith that there were fiue thousand men besides wo∣men and children, we must needs conclude that there were foure thousand wo∣men at the least. For we see by experience, that there are alwayes foure women at a sermon for one man. Besides (quoth he) I beleeue that there was an infinite num∣ber of little children, if women in that country had as good a custome as they haue in this, who would be sory to come to a Sermon without their children hanging at their brests, & a troupe of others at their tailes, which crie all the Sermon while, and hinder both the Preacher and the auditory. After this, he compares the dinner which our Sauiour made to these people, to a Limosins dinner. I wold gladly know (quoth he) where he learned to make a dinner or a feast? I cannot think that he fre∣quented the greedy guts of this towne, who will not forget (I warrant you) when they are at a feast to drinke with their meate. This dinner of our Lords was like the dinner of a Limosin. You know how beggers in Beausse and Champaine will reare themselues against a wall, and pull sixe pound of bread out of their wallets, and drinke neuer a drop therewith: and though they haue a pint of wine standing by them, yet they thinke it a sinne once to peepe into the pot. The French do not so, especially the Picards, who after they haue payed the shot can drinke roundly euery man his halfe a quart d'escu: and if there were a half peny loafe on the boord, he should be sure to haue a stab that did first cut it. But this day our Lord made the dinner of a Limosin. And a little after: I beleeue (quoth he) it was Lent (as it is now) and euery man ate as much fish as he would. Our Sauiour at the mariage of Cana gaue wine onely, and not bread; but here he giues bread only, and not wine. Wherein he shewed his great wisedome, for he kept open house for all come••s. The Scripture saith not that the virgin Mary was there: for had she bene there, she would (I warrant you) haue said to her Sonne as she did at the mariage (Ioh. 2.) They haue no wine. O my Son, you come very fitly to shew your glory and power in feeding this great multitude: I see they eate apace, but the principall thing is wanting, They haue no wine. Here is good cheere (thanks be to God) but they haue

no wine to drinke, they haue nothing wherewith to moisten their morsels. And why did not our Lord take care for drinke as well as for meate? I answer, propter a∣quarum approximationem, miraculi ma••orem declarationem, sacramenti Eucharistiae praefigurationem: that is, because there was store of water at hand, because he would shew the miracle more euidently, because he would hereby prefigure the Sacra∣ment of the Eucharist. Touching the first, it is said, that they came from beyond the sea of Galily: that they sate on faire greene grasse, and after they had eaten their bellies full, were permitted to go to the sea and drinke à tirelarigaud, that is, setting cock on the hoope, to drink till they burst. For he interlards his Latin with this fine French word, Et post comestionem habebant licentiā eundi ad bibendū in mari à tirela∣rigaud. Which passage I do the rather alleadge at large (albeit it had bene sufficient onely to haue quoted the place) to the end the Reader might the better perceiue how they toy and trifle with the Scripture: of which prophanenesse we haue al∣ledged sundry examples before. Howbeit they haue some comparisons very plea∣sant, and nothing prophane; as when Maillard saith, that Monkes in their Cloi∣sters, are like pease in the cod; and out of their Cloisters, like pease in the pot.

16 Moreouer, these iolly Preachers had an excellēt facultie in begging their smal necessaries in the pulpit, and blushing no more then a blacke dog, albeit some did it with far better grace then others, vsing aequiuocatiōs or words of doubtful constru∣ction, very fit for the purpose: as when one said, En nostre caue on n'y void * 1.9 goutte, en nostre grenier on n'y void grain. Another: At the first when I began to preach a∣mong you, I was flegmaticke, but now I am sanguine; making an allusion betwixt sanguine and sans guain, that is, without profit or gaine. Another preaching on a time when his parishioners were sheering their sheepe, said, La laine me faut, I want wooll: where the simple people vnderstood him as though he had said, L'alene me faut, I haue lost my breath. Sutable hereunto I haue heard of one who told his pa∣rishioners in his Farewell Sermon, that he had bene seeking for one all Lent long, but could not find him. And being demaunded who it might be: he answered that his name ended in ette. Whereupon one asked him if it were not Toinette, another if it were not Perrette, a third if it were not Guillemette: he answered No. They then naming sundry other of like termination: he told them it was none of them all. In the end one asked him if it were not Iaquette. You haue hit him (quoth he) you haue hit him, it is one Iaquette indeed that I would gladly meet withall.

17 But we are to note, that there was often great aemulation and heart-bur∣ning betweene these religious orders of Friers, especially betweene the Francis∣cans and the Iacobins. For so it was, that they which preached best got away the others custome. For example, an Italian relates (in a book published about twelue yeares ago) how a Franciscan preaching on a time in a towne of Sicily, made his auditors beleeue that Saint Francis descended into Purgatory once euery yeare vpon his holy day, and deliuered thence the soules of all such as had bene benefi∣ciall to his brethren. Whereupon the Iacobins (who are there called the brethren of the virgin Mary) perceiuing that this opinion which the world had of S. Francis marred their market, and cooled their kitchins, began to preach and perswade the people, that the virgin Mary (who had farre greater charitie and authoritie then S. Francis) suffered not those that had bene deuoted vnto her, or beneficiall to her Votaries, to lie frying in Purgatory a whole yeare long, as Saint Francis did, but only seuen daies, seeing that euery Saturday (the day dedicated vnto her) she went downe thither to deliuer such as had bene bountifull or beneficial to her brethren. Which aduertisements brought them in credit againe, so that they had better

custom thē euer before. And sutable to this tale of Purgatory, I related one before, of a certain ghostly father who preaching at Bourdeaux, told his auditors that whē any thing is giuē for the dead, the soules hearing the sound of the mony falling into the basin or poore mans boxe, crying ting, ting, are so exceeding glad and ••o 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ that they laugh out for ioy, and crie ha, ha, ha; hi; hi, hi. Hitherto appertaines the story of a Curate of Sauoy (as I remember) who told his parishioners in a Sermon, that Abel went euery day to Masse, and payed his tithes duly and truly, and that of the fairest and of the best: whereas Cain made no conscience to do either. And as for those who preached other points of Popish doctrine, or magnified such mi∣racles of their Saints, as tended not directly to bring meale to their mill, (as when a Picard alleadged in commendatiō of virginitie, that because Saint Paul and Saint Barbe were virgins, they bled nothing but milke when they were beheaded▪) we haue varietie in sundry places of this booke. But as for the meanes which they vsed to keepe their kitchins hot, I am to speake hereafter.

18 Now how familiarly they preached, we may perceiue by that which M. Adrian Beguine Curate of S. Germine in Noyon said on a time to his parishioners in the pulpit: My friends, you must haue patience with me for this time, for I am bid to dinner to maister Mayor to take part of a pig▪ otherwise par l'arme du bon fiu men pere ie vous dirois, rouge, rage, enragée, that is, By the soule of my good sire, I would tickle you ouer a text. Another Curate in the towne of Quercie speaking of Shrouetuesday, commended to his parishioners these three good Saints, Saint Pansard, Saint Mangeard, Saint Creuard, that is, Saint Belligod, Saint * 1.10 Eat-all, Saint Burstenbelly.

19 But they vsed more familiar and homely speeches when they fell in dis∣course of women, which they were wont to do in handling certaine places of the Gospel, as where it is said, that Christ appeared first to women after his resurrectiō: for then no ieast could peepe forth, but babling women wold be sure to haue it by the end. He therefore appeared first vnto them, as knowing that this rumor would sooner be bruted abroade, then if he had first appeared to men. For my part, I re∣member I was at a Sermon where this argument was handled at large, and in such sort that it made all our modest maids and matrons blush for shame: since which time I haue heard of sundry others of the like straine. Sometimes also they extol∣led women aboue men, because there was neuer any man so highly honored as the virgin Mary. But a certaine ghostly father serued them finely in one of his ser∣mons, contrary to their expectation. For hauing taken these words out of Luk. 24. for his text, O fooles and slow of heart to beleeue, leauing the rest (as their manner was to shread the Scripture as they thought good,) he began to discourse how much men were disgraced in this place, and how no such disgracefull speech was vttered of women in all the Scripture. And yet if we consider to whom this was spoken, we shal find it was spoken to the proudest Prelates in the Church. Amongst other things which he alleadged in honour of women, this is not to be forgotten, viz. that there was no village nor hamlet so small, but if you had asked for the house of a * 1.11 sage femme, they would forthwith haue shewed it you: but a man should be well serued, if he should aske for the house of a sage homme. And after he had graced women with many other titles of honour which were not giuen to men, percei∣uing by their countenances that they tooke great pleasure therein, and began to fleare and giggle, and to looke at men ouer the shoulder; yet for all this (quoth he) be not so proud, for I shall soone take downe your edge: and hauing so said, he be∣gan in this sort. First there are religious orders of good men, but none of good wo∣men:

and then Secondly and Thirdly, &c. forgetting none of those fine conceits which our buffons and Scoggin-like scoffers vse in gibing at the weaker sexe.

20 Yet this is not all. For these venerable Preachers (those especially who are called ghostly fathers) neuer respecting the lesson which is taught them, Si non ca∣stè, tamen cautè, that is, If not chastly, yet ••••••rily, vsed for the most part such obscene scurrilous speeches in the pulpit, that it was a question whether they preached the word of God, or celebrated the Bacchanalian feasts in the presence of Margot and Alizon; which names I find in Iohn Menard, who hauing bene a Franciscan Frier for a long time, and a most zealous maintainer thereof in defending it with tooth and naile, yet when it pleased the Lord to open his eyes at the last, and to let him see his sinne, he cast off his cowle, and writ a booke against the whole pack of them, called the Declaration of the rule and order of the Franciscans: wherein he discouers part of their knauery. Among other things he writeth, how that beside their ordinary allowance and pension which they had of the Couent of Paris, their manner was to aske mony for apparell, bookes, paper, inke, as also to defray the charges of their sicknesse, &c. that they might euer haue some little ouer-plus wherewith to visit the greene basket neare to the Iacobins, or such like Tauernes and suspected houses; where a man might haue found apparell of all sorts, which these gallands tooke to go to the Tennis-court to play with gentlewomen, disgui∣sed in strange attire, yea euen Lords wiues, whose husbands were non-residents from their houses. He further addeth, that the Franciscans of Paris played certaine games at Tennis with them, vpon condition that if the Friers did win, they should chuse the fairest gentlewoman and loueliest Ladie in the company; and if that the gentlewomen or Ladies did win, they should chuse the frolickest Franciscan. But to returne to the argument in hand, these ghostly fathers made no conscience to vse the same speeches in their Sermons, which they had vsed in a brothel house; to which purpose I could alledge sundry stories, which some might haply think very pleasant: but (as I haue often before protested) I abstaine of purpose from the re∣hearsall of them; for doubtlesse it is enough and ouer-much, that heauen & earth haue bene so long infected with the stinke of them. For proofe whereof though I should alleadge no other example but that which is recorded by the late Queene of Nauarre (in the eleuenth Nouuelle) of certaine speeches deliuered by a Fran∣ciscan in a Sermon, my assertion should be strongly confirmed. Who to shew how lightly he regarded the offence and scandall which he gaue by his loose and lasci∣uious speeches, said to the goodwiues of his parish; Go to faire Ladies, by and by when you are pratling among your gossips, you will say, But what M. Frier is this (trow we) that speaketh thus boldly? It is some good fellow sure. I will tell you (Madames) maruell not if I speake boldly, for I am of Anjou, yours to command, &c. And what conscience made he of giuing offence, when he mocked those who took offence at him? saying, O my maisters and dames of S. Martins, I maruel you should be offended at a thing the least of a hundred, and prattle of me euery where, and say, O it is a foule matter, who would haue thought the ghostly father would haue got his hostesse daughter with child? And is it indeed such a wonder that a Monk should get a wench with child? Tel me in good earnest, what would you haue said if the maid had got the Monke with child? This is the summe of that news. And he that desires to see these particulars exemplified, may find them in the former part of the Apologie, in the Chapter which intreateth of whore∣domes committed by our good Catholickes.

21 I was purposed here to haue ended this Chapter, but that I cannot in

conscience omit a short story very pertinent to this purpose, concerning the grosse speeches which these gorbellied shauelings vsed in their Sermons; to the end the Reader may perceiue that they are euer like themselues, as being neuer cloyed with this clunch, nor any thing daunted, no not when they are among the dead. The story is recorded by a man of good credit who hath written annotations vpō the Abstract of the Franciscans Alcoran; and is thus couched in his owne words. For my part, seeing it cometh here so fitly, I will tell you what I saw at Paris:

Foure begging Friers being intreated on a time to bury a corps, it was the Franciscans turne to sing Requiem & Libera, which they did very lustily (for they were in good hope to be well rewarded for their labor) the other three in the meane time talking merrily together. Where (as I came out of a house) I saw two yong lustie Augustines, who held each other by the hand, and sang,

Brunette suis, iamais ne seray blanche.

That is,

Nut-browne I am, as you may see, And neuer fairer shall I be.

CHAP. XXXVII. Of the subtiltie and profoundnesse of the foresaid Preachers or professors of Diuinitie: as also of the traditions of the Fran∣ciscans, Dominickes, &c.

WE haue heretofore spoken of the grosse ignorance of Priests and Monkes, and exemplified it by sundry particulars; to which not∣withstanding much more might be added, this at the least, of a French-man seruant to a Scot; who being examined in Latin by the Bishop (who was to giue him orders) and thinking that the Latine which the Bishop spake had bene Scottish, answered: If it please your Lordship; my maister vnderstands Scottish very well, but so do not I. As also this of another deepe Diuine, who being asked Quot sunt septem Sacramenta? answered, Tres, Aspergillum, Thuribulum, & magnum Altare. Howbeit, some of them I must needs confesse (to make amends for this geare) haue bin so vengeably learned, and haue found out such subtill speculations, that the most pregnant wits and ripest iudge∣ments can hardly conceiue them. And first to begin with their language, certaine I am that diuers of thē haue deliuered such abstruse things, and so far fetched, that Cicero himselfe neuer heard the like. Besides, they haue found out a new deuice to make a medley and mixture of Latin and French, with such excellent good grace, that it is not possible almost a man should be wearied in reading therof. For proofe of which particulars, the places quoted before out of Menot and Maillard may suffice, especially for such as haue not their bookes at hand. For there they may see the fine interlarding of these tongues, and that not without some subtiltie. But yet there is a further matter then either of these: for they haue so emphatically expres∣sed their notions in their home-spun Latin, that all the classicke authors of the La∣tin tongue may cast their caps at them: as when Oliuer Maillard saith, fol. 6. col. 3. Primò venit ad primam in domo sua existentem, & percutit ad ostium, dicendo Trac, trac, trac: & ancilla venit &c. Tell me now (gentle Reader) whether Cicero or any author of the Latine tongue had either the wit or the heart to make a Latin word

of this short conceited word Trac, which hath so good a grace, and doth so well expresse a mans meaning?

2 But this is not all: for they haue bene so curious in rendring reasons of euery word they spake, as that they haue ouerskipped but very few without knowing their Etymologies, nay they haue found out such subtill notations, as cannot suffici∣ently be wondered at. For, who would euer haue thought that there had bin such a secret hidden vnder this word Aue, as we find in sundry of those preachers and diuines, and namely in Barelete, and in the author of the sermons intituled Dormi securè? Barelete fol. 230. col. 1. saith Ingressus Gabriel ad eam, dixit, Aue gratia plena, Dominus tecum, ab a, quod est sine, & vae culpa. Immunis à triplici vae, de quibus Apoc. 12. Vae vae vae habitantibus in terra. Asmuch also to the same effect writes the other (whom I named euen now) in his first sermon De conceptione beatae Maria virginis. Neither was there lesse dexterity vsed in the anatomy of the word Sacerdos, as it is deciphered vnto vs in a booke called Stella clericorum as followeth: Quinque enim sunt dignitates Sacerdotū praecaeteris. Primò dicitur sacerdos quasi sacris dotatus, scili∣let sacris ordinibus, quia ipse est in summo gradu, qui est Sacerdotum. Secundò Sacerdos, quasi sacris deditus, id est sacramentis, ad sacrificanda sacramenta; nam ipse sacrificat sa∣crosanctum corpus Domini cum verbis, signis, prodigijs, & caetera sacramenta. Tertiò, dicitur Sacerdos quasi dans sacra; dat enim baptismum, confessionem▪ poenitentiam, in∣dulgentiam, eucharistiam, benedictionem, & extremam vnctionem. Quartò, dicitur sacerdos, quasi sacra docens: docet enim verba sancti euangelij & articulos rectae fidei. Quintò, dicitur Sacerdos quasi sacer dux, quasi ducatum praebens & iter populo ad reg∣na coelorum, verbo sacrae doctrinae & vitae bono exemplo, vnde versus;

Sacris dotatus & sacris deditus, atque Sacra docens, sacra dans, & dux sacer esto sacerdos.

And who would haue thought that a man could euer haue found such a mystery in the name Dominicus? Dicitur Dominicus (saith Barelet fol. 191. col. 4.) quasi totus Domini: vel Dominicus quasi cu••tos Domini, vel Dominicus quasi à Domino custodi∣tus. And for Franciscus, what do you thinke they haue found in his belly? Let vs heare what his Legend saith, Franciscus dicitur ratione securitatis, ex virtute & ope∣rum perfectione, & honestatis in conuersatione. Aiunt enim Franciscos dici quaedā signa instar securium, quae Romae ante Consules ferebantur, quae erant in terrorem & securita∣tem. True it is indeed, there are sundry other notations giuen of his name, but this is holden to be the soundest. Now this subtil and curious Etymologizing is not in these names onely, but in all other names of the Saints, registred in the booke cal∣led The golden Legend or Legends: For example, Gregory is compounded of Grex, that is an assembly, & of Goire, that is preacher. KATHERINE, of Katha, that is all, and of ruina ouerthrow, for the diuels fort was cleane ouerthrowne in her: Kathe∣rine signifying as much as vniuersall ouerthrow, he being dislodged and cast out of her. Quintine comes of quin{que} fiue, and teneo, tenes, to hold, signifying one which holdeth fiue things. If any shall reply and say, that it is not to be wondered that the ancient Latinists neuer mētioned these Etymologies, considering the names were not then in vse; I answer, that they had as good dexteritie in giuing Etymologies of ancient latin words; witnesse the notation of Mulier, quasi mollis aër. It was also a very subtill inuention, to fetch Etymologies of Greeke and Hebrew words from the Latin, as we haue shewed before in presbyter, diabolus, and Iesus.

3 But now we are to prosecute other subtill speculations, concerning mat∣ters of greater moment. And first, what braines may we thinke had they, which coyned so many quaint questions as haue bene formerly mentioned? And what

shall we say to their great pains in expounding the Scriptures, so as that they make a nose of waxe of the••, as hath bene shewed▪ We haue seene also how cunning Diuines they were in diuining & cōiecturing at many things, wherof the scripture speakes not a word. Besides, we haue giuen some tast of their witty comparisons and braue arguments: and yet if a man would take a little paines to turne ouer the bookes out of which they gathered all this geare, he might finde other manner of stuffe then this. For exāple, when Menot fol. 48. col. 3. maketh Christ to go through the twelue signes of the Zodiacke, it is such a dainty deuice as hath not bene heard of. But their wits were much more refined, and sublimated in other speculations; as in finding the old and new Testament in the two hornes of Bishops Myters; simplicity and innocency in the Friers cowle: and sundry like things, as by and by we shall heare.

4 And if we come to the mysticall expositions of all the tooles and trinkets, as also the Apish trickes and turnings vsed in the Masse, we must needs confesse that there lyeth so great a mystery or secret subtilty hidden vnder them, that they (doubtlesse) are men of the sharpest wit, and best iudgement, which vnderstand least thereof. For is it not cunningly done, to make one Massemonger act twenty or fiue and twentie parts, as of Christ, of the virgine Mary his mother, of all the Apostles, yea and of the traytor Iudas? as also of the theefe that was crucified, the Centurion, the Publican, &c? But how is it possible (may some say) he should act so many parts, and represent so many persons? I answer, one part is performed on∣ly with crossings; for with one Crosse which he maketh ouer the consecrated host and another ouer the chalice, seuerally, he playeth two parts: the one of Christ, the other of Iudas. By the three other crosses which are made before, are represen∣ted the Father, the holy Ghost, and Christ who was deliuered to death by himself, and by thē also. But if this were all the mystery that lay hid in these Crosses al were nothing▪ Marke then what followeth: After these two Crosses seuerally made, and that the Crosse•• hath spread his armes abroade (whereby he representeth Christ stretched vpon the Crosse) and hath lifted vp the host to be worshipped (which they call th•• Eleuation) by the three Crosses which he maketh, one ouer the host, a∣nother ouer the Chalice, and a third vpon himselfe, he acteth the part of three se∣uerall estates of men, viz. of those in heauen, in Purgatory, and in earth. As for the fiue Crosses which are made after the first three, besides that two of them being seuerally made, one ouer the host, and the other ouer the Chalice, do signifie as hath bene said; all of them together betoken sundry other things. As first, the fiue dayes, betwixt Palmesunday and Good Fryday; or the fiue wounds of Christ, two in his feete, two in his hands, and one in his right side. Neither is this all: For the first three of the fiue, (being made ouer the Chalice and host together,) figure the deliuery of Christ to the high Priests, the Scribes & Pharisies: as also the price for which Christ was sold, viz. thrise ten, that is 30. pence. Now thē consider (good Reader) if vnder these crossings there be so many and so profound speculations, what sublimate subtilties there must needs be in all their trinckets, tr••ndals, gābols, knocking of breasts, and in the rest of that so trimme and pleasant stageplay, apish trickes, and mummery? Moreouer, euery of these Doctors haue had their particu∣lar reuelations, for the cōfirmatiō of these speculations; I say euery of these Alcora∣nists of the Masse, as Titelmā, Gabriel Biel, Brunus, Philo, with others. For the Masse priest his ••lbe (according to some Doctors) signifieth the conuersation of Christ in the flesh; according to others, the purity of his body incarnate in the wombe of the Virgin; according to a third sort, the white garment wherewith Herod appa∣relled

him, when he sent him backe to Pilate arayed like a foole: and according to a fourth sort, the constancy of the most cleare light. And for the fine linnen wher∣of the Albe is made, it signifies (as they say) the subtiltie of the Scriptures. The like may be said of the Amict: for some are of opinion, that it representeth the veile wherewith Christ was blindfolded when the Iewes mocking him in Caiphas house, buffeted him: others are of opinion that it signifieth the diuinitie of Christ hidden vnder his humanity: some say that it comes in the roome of the Iewish E∣phod. I omit to speake of the girdle, the maniple, and the stole, which are also diuers∣ly interpreted. The fire and burning tapers (as some affirme) figure Christ, who is the fire which consumeth the rust of our sinnes: others say that the fire signifieth the fire of charitie, enuyroning Christian people; and the burning taper, the light of faith, as also the ioy of Christs coming and incarnation. The paten also (accor∣ding to the iudgement of some deepe diuines) signifieth the diuinitie of Christ, as well as the Amict: but according to others, it hath another signification. Gloria in excelsis vttered with a lowe and soft voice, signifieth (as some affirme) the childish puling voice of Christ lying in his cradle: but according to other Doctors, it hath another meaning. But what greater skill can a man desire then this, to tell what the Masse-priest saith, when he speaketh neuer a word? Doubtlesse this is an Abyssus or bottomlesse sea of subtilties: and yet this is not all; for hitherto I haue only spoken of the play which is acted by one onely. I leaue it therefore to thy consideration (gentle Reader) what manner of play that is which is played by three: viz. when the Massingmate hath the Deacon and Subdeacon to assist him? For if there were no more but this, that when the Deacon (according to Titelman) playeth his part in singing some parcell of Scripture shred out of the Gospel, with his face towards the North, he should with his crossing chase away all the Northerne diuels; were not this a most monstrous mysterie? But I will no longer insist vpon these subtill speculations, for feare I shold bring the Reader in loue with the booke, wherby he might be drawne to become a sworn brother to the Guyld of the Massemongers. Neuerthelesse, this one thing I will say for a finall conclusion, let the Massemalig∣ners, or Massemarrers call it as they list, either stageplay, or apish toy, or momme∣ry, iuggling or sorcery; they must needs confesse, that Pythagoras with all his my∣sticall numbers had neuer the wit to inuent so pleasant and profitable a Morris∣dance. And it is not without cause that I here alleadge Pythagoras: for besides that the Pythagorean Phylosophy hath (as wee know) some such liniaments of curious subtiltie, we are not ignorant, that the book intituled The conformity of Saint Fran∣cis with Christ, nameth Pythagoras first, before all the other Philosophers, whose example Christ hath worthily followed, in hauing Disciples, as fol. 43. of the fore∣said impression. Dubium est is••ad an Dominus noster Iesus Christus decenter fecit, A∣postolos eligendo, & discipulos habere speciales volendo, quia videretur melius fore, ha∣bere multos, quàm paucos, & omnes, quàm aliquos speciales. Respondetur, quòd Domi∣nus decētissimè fecit, primò volendo habere discipulos. Ratio pri••••••, quia quum esset vir∣t••osissimus, aliquos ipsius ad instar aliorum imitatores habere debeat: Pythagoras, Pla∣to, Socrates, Aristoteles, & sic de alijs, Iohannes Baptista habuerunt discipulos, quare ipse à fortiori.

5 Howbeit I find the allegories in the booke intituled Quadragesimale spiri∣tuale, to be more miraculously subtill (if I may so speake) and to proceed from a far more pleasant and conceited head: which spirituall quadr••gesimall, otherwise cal∣led Lents allegory, was printed at Paris in the yeare 1565. after that it had bene re∣uiewed and corrected by two venerable Doctors of Paris: out of which booke I

will here extract certain periods, by which the Reader shall easily iudge of the rest. The author therefore speaking in his first Chapter of the Sallad which is eaten in Lent at the first seruice, saith, that by the sallad which is made of diuers herbes, and procureth a good appetite, we may vnderstand in a mysticall sense the word of God, which should giue vs both appetite and strength. And a little after, by the sweetnesse of the oyle and sharpnesse of the vinegar equally mixed together, we are to vnderstand the mercy and iustice of God.

Chap. 2. After the sallad we eate fried beanes, by which we vnderstand confes∣sion. When we would haue beanes well sodden, we lay them in st••••pe, for other∣wise they will neuer seeth kindly. Therefore if we purpose to amend our faults, it is not sufficient barely to confesse them at all aduenture (as some do) but we must let our confession lie in steepe in the water of meditation, in distinguishing and rightly discerning all our offences in particular. And a little after: We do not vse to seeth ten or twelue beanes together, but as many as we meane to eate: no more must we steepe, that is, meditate vpon ten or twelue sinnes onely, neither for ten or twelue dayes, but vpon all the sinnes that euer we committed euen from our birth, if it were possible to remember them.

Chap. 3. Strained pease (Madames) are not to be forgotten. You know how to handle them so well, that they will be delicate and pleasant to the tast. By these strained pease our allegorizing flute pipeth nothing else but true contrition of heart, which is one part of penance. Note this further, that pease neuer seeth kindly in well water nor conduit water, but only in riuer water: which mystically signifi∣eth that true repentance cannot seeth rightly, that is, cannot be made perfect with well water or conduit water, by which are meant teares of attrition: but he that would haue them to seeth well, must of necessitie take riuer water, that is, true con∣trition. For by well water which runneth not, is vnderstood attrition: and by riuer water contritiō. And so the doctors say, that there is great difference betwixt them: for attrition is vncertaine, so that spirituall pease cannot seeth well in it: but con∣trition is certaine, and maketh good decoction for the pease of penance. Riuer water which continually moueth, runneth and floweth, is very good for the see∣thing of pease. We must (I say) haue contrition for our sins, and take the running water, that is, the teares of the heart, which must runne and come euen into the eyes.

Chap. 4. The broth of pease is also greatly to be commended, for it furnisheth Lent dinners very well. By the iuyce of pease strained through a strainer, is vnder∣stood a purpose and resolution to abstaine from sinne.

Chap. 5. When the Lamprey is eaten, men fall to their other fish. I find that the Lamprey of all other fish is most nourishing, and therefore I compare restitution vnto it. Some (perhaps) wil say, they haue not mony enough to buy this Lamprey: indeed I must needs say that Lampreys are commonly deare, but yet this is true withall, that as they are deare, so they are very excellent meate. If you will eate of this noble Lamprey, which is the remission of your sinnes. viz. the loue of God; you ought to buy it, were it neuer so deare. You must not thinke to buy it for a shilling or two, or halfe a crowne, no no•• yet for a crowne: but you must restore all the mony, goods, and what else you vniustly detaine from your neighbors; you must emptie your purses of it, therewith to make restitutiō. And further, you must emptie your hearts of all rancor and malice, otherwise you shall neuer eate wor∣thily of this Lamprey, together with his bloud, wherewith that excellent sawce is made, which is the merit of the passion.

Chap. 6. By Saffron which is put into all broths, sawces, and Lent meates, I vnderstand the ioyes of heauen, which we must thinke vpon, yea (as it were) smell, rellish and ruminate of in all our actions; for without Saffron we shall neuer haue good iuyce of pease, good strayned pease, nor yet good sawce. Neither can we without thinking vpon the ioyes of heauen, haue good spirituall broths.

Chap. 7. Orenges also are right good in Lent (as Physitians say:) By the orenge I vnderstand the loue which we ought to haue towards God, which is well noted by the colour of the Orenge, & the kernels within it; being of a punick colour, that is, yellow drawing to a red, which in the holy Scripture signifieth charitie of loue which we owe to God, in louing him with all our hearts, without which all our a∣ctions should be vnprofitable and vaine. Si linguis hominum loquar & Angelorum, charitatē autē non habeā, nihil sum. And by the kernels inclosed in the orenge, I vn∣derstand almes giuen in secret. And a litle after; The kernels in the Orenge do shew and shadow out vnto vs the apple of loue. Wherefore I say (and that truly) that God loueth this noble fruite exceeding well, the colour thereof pleaseth him: see therefore that you present him therewith; he loueth the tast thereof, wherefore let him feed vpon it in this thy spirituall dinner.

Cap. 8 You know (Madames) that a woman cannot haue a pleasanter thing in her hand, then a goodly faire posey. This moneth of March yeeldeth a iolly for∣wardnesse of trimme posies: for in March groweth the sweet Violet of an heauen∣ly colour, azure, and blew. Wil you therfore carry this Lent and at all other times, a faire and pleasant posey in your hands, which shall alwayes giue a sweet smell▪ Then take the Violet in March, which is the vertue of humilitie; for I assure you, it is a vertue highly pleasing God, & profitable for the soule▪ The March Violet &c.

Chap. 9. Prunes also are necessary to furnish out a dinner, and therefore they must be had. By these Prunes which are black and ful of good iuyce, is vnderstood abstinence from sinne, mortification of the flesh, and bodily fasts.

Chap. 10 After this they set Figs on the table for a second seruice, which are both good and wholsome, getting a man a good stomacke and a sweet breath: By these figs may be vnderstood the memory of the holy passion of Christ, which strengtheneth the stomacke, and makes it able to digest tribulations, temptations, griefes, labours, melancholike passions, and yeeldeth a sweet and pleasant smell.

Chap. 11. Yet this is not all, for if we would feed more liberally, we must haue Almonds also. Physitians say that the bitter Almond is wholsomer then the sweete, and therefore I will speake of them: I say then, that we must not forbeare to eate these Almonds, albeit they be bitter. Some there are who take the sweete and leaue the bitter: and yet they are not so wholsome. For that which is distastfull and vnpleasant to the palate, may do the heart good. By these bitter Almonds I vnderstand the remembrance of death, of the last iudgement, and of the paines of hell, which must accompany our Lent dinner.

Chap. 12. The hony which we eate in Lent is a precious thing, and chiefly for the dames. The Philosopher saith, that hony is like gold. By hony I vnderstand no∣thing else but a heauenly life and conuersation: for the life and conuersation which we ought to leade, especially in this holy time of Lent, must proceed and distill from heauen as good and precious hony.

Chap. 13. After our fine white manchet we may not forget simnels and wine: for they are the best part of the dinner. By bread and wine we vnderstand the ob∣taining of the ioyes of heauē; and by the simnels faith, which we ought to haue in one God. Creator of heauen and earth, distinguished into three persons. This ap∣peareth

plainly in the simnell which hath 3. horns or corners, all which are but one and the same thing by essence of nature. Further, there are simnels made of ano∣ther fashion, viz. like the halfe Moone, hauing only two hornes, signifying the two natures of Christ, his diuinitie and humanitie. Now all this we must constantly beleeue vpon paine of damnation: Besides, parents are to teach it their children, Preachers the people, and schoolmasters their schollers, especially in the holy time of Lent, according as simnels are then giuen children to eate. And a litle after, There are two kindes of wine, white and red: the white signifieth the hope which is in Christ Iesus; and the red, the loue which he hath shewed vs in purchasing of the foresaid glory. The bread whereof we speake, was baked in the ouen of this loue which is his precious side, wholly inflamed with the loue of mankind. Con∣cerning the wine and the nature thereof (to omit his two colours) it is strong, and tasteth well. By the strength of it, we may vnderstand the loue which God hath borne vs, in laying downe his life for vs: and by the tast, the hope which he hath gi∣uen vs to ascend to heauen, if we wil be careful to performe good works and exer∣cise ourselues therin. And a litle after; This wine is of two colours, white and red: therefore it is said, Dilectus meus candidus & rubicundus, electus ex millibus. The white teacheth vs the way to heauen, for it giueth good courage to a man, legs of wine and boldnesse of ioy. The red sharpeneth the wit and vnderstanding, and helps the memory, to remember that the precious bloud of Christ gushed out of his side for our saluation. This wine is chiefe of choise among all liquors electus ex millibus.

Chap. 14. Of the foresaid wine is made good and odoriferous Hypocras, cleare and wel spiced. King Salomon doth make of it and selleth it, as it is said in the Can∣ticles, Dabo tibi vinum conditum. The merchant and factor for these Aromaticke drugs, spices and confects, is my Lord Saint Paul, who like a painefull merchant brought them out of a farre countrey, viz. out of heauen. By these drugges, spices and precious confections, as Sugar, Cassia, Lignea, Grains of Paradise, Cinnamon and such like daintie delicates, we vnderstand infinite diuersitie of glory in hea∣uen, which S. Paul brought with him from thence, when he was rapt vp into the third heauen; and that in such abundance, that it could not be contained in the shop of mans heart, as it is said, Vidit arcana quae non licet homini loqui. Nec in cor hominis ascendit quae praeparauit Deus diligentibus se. My Lord S. Paul saw the ioyes of heauen and the glory thereof in a vision, and that in such variety, state and mag∣nificence, as the heart of man cannot by meditation conceiue or vnderstand. These celestiall ioyes the Apostle sold to King Salomon, a true Apothecary, that is, to a man of peace, of an humble heart, and contemplatiue life.

Chap. 16 If a man wold haue good broths and meates wel and finely dressed, he must look to prouide good cooks, for Gentlemen, Lords and great Merchants. The good cookes which should dresse and season our meates in Lent, are the ad∣monitions, inspirations, and perswasions of our good Angels, which we must be∣leeue rather in this holy time of penance then any other; for they inspire more good motions into our minds at this time then at any other: because the diuell doth then more maliciously tempt vs. We commonly feed vpon more dishes in Lent then in any time of the yeare besides: and therefore we ought to eate, vse, and learne more heauenly admonitions at that time, &c.

Cha. 17. The seruitors which should serue vs at the table in Lent, are the ex∣amples of the holy Martyrs, which haue suffered great affliction and mysery in aspiring to glory: all which serue vs in their course and place. Saint Laurence ser∣ueth

in fish and herrings broyled on the gredyron. Saint Iohn the Euangelist boy∣led sea fish. Saint Dennys and Saint Cosme, baked pasties out of the ouen: for they were cast into fornaces. Sundry others there be which serue•• in fryed fish; & they are such as were boyled in great coppers and caldrons, for the name of Christ.

Chap. 18. In Lent all the vessell is scoured and made cleane, pots, glasses, and caldrons. The table is also couered with a fayre white cloth, and cleane napkins laid thereon; which duty belongs to young girles, women seruants, and waiting maids: therefore in imitation of the Virgins of heauen, we ought to cleanse our vessels (as pots, glasses, and caldrons) that is, our hearts. For doubtlesse we seeth carnall desires in our flesh. Wherefore chastity and cleanlinesse ought to bring in the white table cloth and couer the table.

Chap. 19. When a man hath fed well of all these dishes, I suppose he hath had a competent refection: so that there remains nothing but to say grace. But in stead of giuing thanks, they make the dice trowle vpon the tables: one desires to play at dice, or cards: another takes a lute and playes wanton & lasciuious songs, toūds, and horne pypes. And so in stead of saying grace and giuing thanks to God; they honor & ••erue the diuell the inuentor of all those games and sports. Do you know what the tables signifie whereat you play? By the tables which you open after you are well refreshed with bodily food (not with spirituall) is vnderstood hell, which shall be set wide open for you when you are satiate with your sinnes, and then shall the tablemen be turned, tumbled, and tossed one vpon another: that is, the soules shalbe tormented with diuers and sundry torments, specifyed by the sun∣dry points of the tables, and the often remouing of the tablemen from one point to another. Transibunt ab aquis niuium ad calorem nimium. For the paines of hell are diuerse, &c.

Chap. 20. And as for those which play vpon the Lute, and sing ribaldry and baudy songs, in stead of saying grace; doubtlesse they much forget themselues; seeing we are all bound to giue God thanks for the benefites we receiue at our re∣past from his liberall and bountifull hand. And here I will shew those that loue to play vpon the Lute and other instruments, vpon what Lute they ought to play. Marke then, as a Lute hath seuen strings, so it is hollow: By the seuen strings are meant the seuē petitions of the Pater noster, with which we must giue God thanks. For the Pater noster is the best forme of prayer that euer was seene: for therein is contained whatsoeuer is necessary for vs. Likewise the seuen strings signifie these seuen vertues, Prudence, Temperance, Fortitude, Iustice, Faith, Hope, and Chari∣ty, (which we ought to haue and to pray that God wold giue vs:) or they signifie the 7. vertues opposite to the seauen deadly sinnes, viz. Humilitie, Charity, Absti∣nence, Diligence, Liberality, Chastity, and Patience. These are the seuen strings which we ought to strike and play vpon before God, rendring him thankes and praise, all the Lent long. The hollownesse of the Lute signifieth that our hearts should be emptyed of all things, saue onely of the resounding of godly thoughts, and heauenly prayses. The Lute is hollow, hauing nothing in it but the sounding of the strings when they are striken: so ought our hearts to be emptyed of al earth∣ly things, and to haue no other resonance but of good thoughts and such heauen∣ly meditations as are formerly mentioned. The melody of the strings of the Lute, &c.

Chap. 21. As I was about to take my pen from the paper, purposing to shut my booke, one of my nephewes said vnto me; ô vncle, you haue spoken of all saue sweet meates and banquetting dishes which you haue forgotten. Indeed (quoth

I) thou saist true my boy. Whereupon I tooke my pen againe and writ as follow∣eth. None can be ignorant that sweete meates are eaten at night, vpon fasting dayes, in stead of a supper: we ought in the time of fasting to be spiritually excerci∣sed, and therfore I think it good when we are disposed to fast, to eate sweet meates at night, which I will here giue you. By spirituall confects, I vnderstand perseue∣rance in a good course. He cannot be ••aid to fast all Lent, that breaketh off his fast for two or three dayes: but he must fast full fortie dayes: that is, it is not enough for him to abstaine from sinne certaine dayes onely, but he must continue, and perseuere in well doing. Qui perseuerauerit vsque ad finem, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 erit; qui verò non, condemnabitur. And because perseuerance in obedience is so necessary, I may (in my poore opinion) not vnfitly compare it to the round confect; for roundnes sig∣nifieth perseuerance, seeing that a round figure hath neither beginning nor end; as this letter O made in forme of a confect.

6 But leauing the rest of these Lenten subtilties to curious heads, which de∣sire to vnderstand more of this trim science (seeing I haue shewed them the place where they may find them,) I will come in the next place to the subtilties contai∣ned in the rules as well of the religious beggars, wallet cariers and rogue••, as of the rest of that rable. Howbeit my purpose is not to discourse of the subtilties of euery order particularly; it shall suffice to speake a word or two generally of them all, and after to intreate of some of them in special. Here then let vs note, that when we see either white, blacke or gray Frier, be he besmeared or smoaked, mytred or cleane brushed; yet is there not so small a rag in all his array, vnder which there lieth not hidden some great mystery. But how is it possible (may some say) but that if they be contrary one to another in their attire, there should also be a contrariety in the mysteries themselues? For example, if girding with a cord note perfection, then doubtles a large broade thong with braue buckles, garnished with gallant tongues, must needs signifie imperfection, as those which the Augustines weare. And how should these subtilties agree in such contrarietie of colours? Besides all this, where∣in is it (almost) that one disagreeth not from another? For one goeth barefoot, an∣other weareth half a paire of breeches, another a whole paire: one weareth laticed shoes, another cleane couered: one hath shoes of the plaine hide like Irish brogs, another hath woodden shoes properly called sabots or clogs: some ride, some go on foot. Some haue their cowles pointed, others haue them round: some long, o∣thers short. Some are but gentleman bald, others as bald as coots: some are shauen aboue the eare, some vnder; a third sort haue but a tuft or two. Some haue mony, and some haue none: some eate flesh, and some eate none. Howbeit they which brag of their skill in these speculatiue subtilties, deuise all the meanes they can to make these contrarieties accord together: though I feare me it is but labour lost. True it is indeed, in some particulars they may easily be accorded: as in this, that the Iacobins weare blacke in their vpper garments, and white vnder; the Carmelites contrarily weare white aboue and blacke vnder: so that it may be said, that as the Iacobins weare the virgin Maries liuery (for she reuealed it to S. Dominicke) so the Carmelites weare Elias and Elizeus liueries: So that as they with their attire please their founders; so these please their foundresse. And if it be true, that by the subtill speculation (specially of the virgin Mary) the white hood signifies puritie and vir∣ginitie, doubtlesse they great exceeding well together: the Iacobins being pure vir∣gins inwardly, and the Carmelites outwardly. And verily if they could as wel agree in other things as in this, we should haue no cause to obiect against them the di∣uersitie which is in their sects: but there are such differences among them in some

particulars, that the best answer (in my conceit) which can be made to stop the mouthes of all gainsayers (touching the diuersities or contrarieties in their orders) were to say, that as they hold not one way, so neither do they make account to go to one place, namely into the same heauen. And that there are indeed many Im∣periall heauens, according to the opinion and doctrine of the Friers, may appeare by certaine places in the booke of Conformities: at leastwise we may boldly say, they held this opinion, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••hat there was one heauen for eaters of flesh, and ano∣ther for eaters of fish.

7 Notwithstanding leauing the censure hereof to others, I will onely par∣ticularize the sect of the Minorite Friers (otherwise called Cordeliers or Franciscans) because it is holden to be the perfectest of all the rest, as being the onely sect that is canonized and registred in the sixt booke of the Decretals or Clementines. But considering that there are subtilties to be found as well in their habits as in their course of life, I will say nothing of their habits or attire, saue onely of the cord and breeches; because in them lieth the most profound speculation. First then, this cord is expounded by some to signifie perseuerance, in that we vse to bind them with cords whom we feare will runne away: and according to other speculatiue braines, it signifieth diligence, because that when a man is girded, his gowne trou∣bleth him not so much in running as when it is loose. Lo here the allegoricall sig∣nification of the whole cord. Let vs in the next place consider what euery knot signifieth apart by it selfe. The lowest knot (which often traileth on the ground) mystically signifies canonicall obedience: the knot in the middest (which by reason of often handling is commonly more greasie then the rest) by a mysticall Antiphrasis, puritie and chastitie: and the knot aboue (wherewith they gird them∣selues hard) their strait and extreame pouertie. And as for their breeches, albeit they be diuersly allegorized, yet the common receiued opinion is, that they signi∣fie the sweet odour of the sacrifice of obedience, because they are vsually perfu∣med with a most horrible smell.

8 Touching their demeanour and actions in their order, I will make choise onely of a few, without adding the expositions of their subtill significations, as ha∣uing not found them in any Doctor. By their demeanour and cariage in their or∣der, I vnderstand the ceremoniall customes of their order or rule. But because the foresaid breeches are (as it were) the fairest flower in their garland (either because they helpe to get women with child, or for some other reason) I will first beginne with them. We are therfore to know, that it is expresly forbidden the Franciscans, vpon penaltie of a heauy curse, that they neither come nor go, eate nor sleeepe, preach nor say Masse without their breeches, as being mystically incorporate to∣gether with the habit; only when they gall them betweene the legs (as sometimes it falls out in trauaile) they are permitted to put them for a time into their sleeues. Moreouer, in the yeare of probation, before they take vpon them the profession of Monkery, they learne to hold one finger in the bottome of the glasse when they drink, or to hold it with both their hands, to looke downe to the ground, to coun∣terfet wrynecks, to hide their hands close within their sleeues, to make an hypo¦criticall inclinabo or ducking in the Church & elsewhere, bowing downe the head and heauing vp the taile, with an euen proportion; as also to kisse the ground, to kneele downe before the patres, when they chance to meete them: to kisse their hand, cord, or feet, if they make not offer to kisse them. I omit to speake of Cabbi∣ges, which they cause their poore nouices to set with the roote vpward: as also dead stickes, which they cause them to water; and great bones which they make

them carry in their mouthes; besides a number of other trickes described by the said Iohn Menard (in a booke intituled The rule and order of the Franciscans:) a man that could speake and write of this argument as well as another, considering he was one of this order. Albeit in the end (through the great grace and mercie of God) he left his cowle, after that he had founded the profunditie of the foresaid subtilties, besides a number of others which he recordeth.

9 To conclude, if haply (gentle Reader) thou be not yet fully satisfied with these subtill speculations, or that thou haddest rather heare them in rime then in prose: I haue found some such to content thee, where mention is made of the signification of Bishops Myters, whereof I haue spoken somewhat be∣fore.

L'aube & le surplis blane denote Vie sans macule & sans note. La mitre de deux parts cornue, Science certaine absolue Du vieil & nouueau Testament. Les gans, des sacrez sacremens Sincere administration. La crosse, saine attraction De brebis à vraye pasture. La croix, les liures, l'Escriture, Des humaines affections, Auecques les afflictions, Les auenemens signifient. Voi••a où caphars se confient Par belles contemplations.

That is,

The Albe and surplise white, do note A life withouten staine or spot. The horned Myter represents Full knowledge in both Testaments. The gloues that bene all new and white, Handling the Sacraments aright. The Crosiers staffe most plainly shewes, Reducing of their strayed ewes. The crosse, bookes, scripture, do portend Of mens desires the doubtfull end. Behold what trust and deepe deuises These Prelates haue in their disguises.

CHAP. XXXVIII. How Church-men gathered great store of riches by their fiue fetches, especially in the dayes of our forefathers: and of their shamelesse and intollerable co∣uetousnesse.

IF we consider a little more narrowly the cunning sleights where∣with the Popish Cleargie abused our auncestors, and abuse many euen at this day: we shall find that all of them, from the least to the greatest, haue serued thē to this end, to bring the moulter to their mill. And that that which seemeth to vs (and not without cause) to be foolish and absurd, (to say no more) seemes to them very excellent, and groun∣ded vpon good reason, when they consider the profit that accrews to them there∣by: so that whatsoeuer could possibly be alleadged or said to the contrary, was but so many wast words spoken in the wind, because it was spoken against their bellies which had no eares: which is truly verified of others also, according to the old prouerbe. And we may well thinke that they kept this auncient saying alwayes in memory: Lucri bonus odor, ex re qualibet: Gaine is good, whence soeuer gotten. Nei∣ther may we doubt but that those proud Prelates (who would needs be termed pillars of the Church) when they were finely flouted and nicknamed pillers and pol∣lers of the Church, deuourers of Crucifixes, Canuasers of Requiem, Abbey-lubbers, loytering and lazy lozels, hypocrites and rauenous wolues, would say with the co∣uetous Athenian in Horace,

—Populus me sibilat, at mihi plaudo Ipse domi, simul ac nummos contemplor in arca.

For they were mocked and derided of old, as shall be declared in the chapter next ensuing; and verily they were then grown more impudent then old filthy bauds. And here comes to my remembrance, what a Monke at Blois told certain good fellowes, who derided him and his order; The seculars (quoth he) shal neuer mock the Church-mē so long as the Church-men haue mocked them. Which he spake in regard of those fine trickes of conueyance, wherwith they had deluded the silly world so long, leading men by the nose, like Beares, or Buffes. True it is indeed that in so saying, he spake not so outragious wickedly as Pope Leo the tenth, who answering Cardinall Bembus (alleadging a certaine place out of the Gospell) said, ô what riches we haue gotten by this fable of Christ! Doubtlesse, as for riches this wic∣ked miscreant lyed not: howbeit he should haue spoken most truly if he had said, ô what riches haue we gotten by abusing the name of Christ? And verily, it is almost in∣credible, how great the wealth and riches of the Clergie was: considering that which Baptista Fulgosius (though a fauourer of the Roman religion) recordeth of one Peter Riarus, who being a Fryer of the order of the Minorites, was created Cardinall by Pope Sixtus the fourth. For he saith that he was not contented to haue his gownes of cloth of gold, and the couerings of his bed of cloth of gold likewise; but not so much as his fetherbed ticks but were of cloth of gold; and his other furniture, all of cleane silke. Besides, he affirmeth that at Rome he made a feast to Eleanor of Arragon, as she was on her iourney going to marry the Duke of Fer∣rara called Hecules d' Est, wherein were so many sundry sorts of meates and dain∣tie

dishes, that it lasted for the space of seuen houres. And lest his guests should haue bene wearied, he caused sundry plaies to be acted whilst they were at table. And amongst other magnificences which he vsed, this was not the least, that eue∣ry seruitor at euery new course tooke a new sute. Yet all this is nothing to that which afterward he reporteth of the said Cardinals where (or concubine) called Tiresia, viz. that he kept her publickly, in such sumptuous manner, that she wore shooes set full of pearles and precious stones. He that doubteth of the truth of this report, may reade Fulgosius lib. 9. cap. 1. where intreating de hominum L••xu atque delicijs, he speaketh of it, as of a thing which at that time was notoriously knowne to all the word. But to returne to Pope Leo, who maruailed at the riches which this fable (as he said) had brought them; how (I beseech you) did he enrich himselfe and fill his coffers by one onely Croisado, when a Franciscan of Millan (called Sam∣son) by the money which he had scraped together by that meanes, could offer an hundred and twenty thousand duckats for the Popedome? And if he offered thus much, how much (may we thinke) had he gained besides? For it is not to be thought but that he would keep a mease for Allison in store, and reserue some pre∣ty round summe against a hard winter. Now if the vassals were so rich, what may we iudge of their Lords and Masters? How euer it be, they haue verified (we see) the foresaid Prouerbe (iumping in opinion with the most villanous vsurers) that the sauour of gaine is good, whence soeuer it ariseth: which was then more truly verified then euer before, when they would needs increase their reuenues by the hire of harlots. And now (gentle Reader) consider a litle, whether that be not true which Ouid saith (as we must needs confesse)

Turpe, tori reditu census augere paternos.

That is,

Base gaine, to raise ones state, by lone of l••st.

Consider (I say) what a shame it is, that the Romish Saint Peters and Saint Pauls should haue part of their reuenues from them which get their liuing by such mi∣serable sweat of their bodies; and that so profane a thing (which is a shame once to name) should be consecrated vnto them as a holy thing. True it is indeed, in the time of Pope Paulus the third, the number of the foresaid lusty lasses was wel aba∣ted; for there were in his register but fiue and forty thousand, as historians who haue written of the liues of Popes do constantly affirme. And certen it is, that the name Courtisan (being the most honest Synonime that can be giuen a whore) had his originall from the court of Rome; namely, from those religious Dames which conuersed somewhat more then familiarly at bed and boord with the Romish Prelates. Now this discourse of Popish riches puts me in mind of a sermon made by a Monke of Gascoine, wherein he affirmed that Antichrist at his coming would vse large liberalitie, sparing no cost to win the hearts of men vnto him: in a word, that he would sow siluer & gold in the very streets. Which words made a Gascoin•• teeth (who was one of his auditors) so to water, that he cryed out aloud: E diu, quā biera ed aquet bon segno d' Antichrist, that is, O Lord, when will that good gentleman An∣christ come? If this poore Gascoine (whose case was to be pitied) had bene informed who this Antichrist was, he would neuer haue asked the question when Antichrist should come; but wold haue craued commendatory letters to carry to him. How∣beit, it behooued him to learne some craft (if he were not experienced therein be∣fore) of those, by whom men are wont to come in fauour with his Holinesse.

2 But I leaue these great Churchmen, so addicted to the world, and returne to their vpholders and abbettors, vsing in this behalfe the authority of the good

preacher Barelete, who mentioneth the prouerb which was current in his daies, & had bene long before, to wit, That three things are insatiable, Priests, Monkes, and the Sea. And from whence arose this Prouerbe may we thinke? Certen it is that com∣mon experience brought it in vse. For when the world sawe, that Churchmen made gain of the very parings of their nails, they vsed that in cōmō speech, which they saw daily practised before their eyes. For they did not only take of the liuing and of the dead (as it is in the French Prouerb) but hauing pilled the parents both liuing and dead, they polled their children to the third and fourth, yea euen to the last generation. But what great meanes had they to effect this? Surely, the fine fetches which they vsed, were the readiest way in the world for this purpose. The number of which we know is infinite: and therfore no maruell if their wealth and riches were infinite. Amongst others, this was most strange, that they should vse the dead as a meanes to pill and polle both the liuing and the dead; of which onely my purpose is to intreate at this present. Now this meanes hath two parts (as there are two sorts of dead men) the first is, by the dead which are canonized; the second by those which are not: And with these latter I will begin this present discourse. I say then, that wheras heretofore they made their kitchins hot, by vsing (or rather abusing) the bodies and soules of the canonized Saints: now of late time they haue holpen their market onely by the goods, and soules of such as they brought out of Purgatorie, to menace and affright those that would not come off roundly in paying their pence. For the best sleight (we know) which single soled Priests and Monks had in their budgets, was taken in former time, and is at this day from their Requiem: Witnesse, that forme and phrase of speech which is common amongst thē, Allons boire sur le premier cuir qui viēdra, Let vs make good cheare at the cost of the first soule that goes to Purgatory. Witnesse also the Curate which complayned to his parishioners in this sort. Alas, what would you haue me to do, ô my parishio∣ners? you bring me no offerings, and I see none of you die: how shall I liue then, thinke ye? But if after they had lustily chanted their requiem, they had not some∣thing giuen them (according to their desire) that they might sing Gaudeamus, they were hornemad, as if the diuel had bene among them; and then the soules of those poore Purgatorians for whose sake they had song such a short and silly requiem, re∣turned backe to be reuenged of their children, kinsmen, and friends, which gaue not the priests occasion to sing so lustily for them, that they might not be so cruel∣••y tormented in Purgatorie: (as we see in ancient Poets, both Greeke and Latin, now the soules of the dead returne backe to curse and reuile those which haue not done their best endeauor (as they shold) in performing such rites, as to their fune∣rals appertained.) Whereof we haue a very memorable example in the ghost or spirit which the Franciscans of Eureux counterfeited: and another after that in the spirit of Orleans, that is, in a Franciscan nouice, named Halecourt, who being hid vnder the vault of the Church, counterfeited the ghost of the Prouost Marshals wife. And why so? Because (forsooth) he gaue but sixe crownes to the Franciscans of the place for interring of her: as also for that hauing asked of him a little wood, he would giue them none. And here we are to remember the Franciscan of Bur∣deaux (whom I mentioned before) concerning the soules of Purgatorie, which laughed as often as any offerings were made for the dead. But because the readers may haply be cloyed with such a rablement of reports and tales of spirits walking by night, and of the ratling noyses which they make (especially about those that are in bed) and of other fooleries which ensue thereupon: I will speake no more thereof, but proceed to prosecute another point.

3 And that is touching canonized Saints, by whom the Cleargy reapes a double commoditie, partly by their bodies, and partly by their soules: by their bodies, in making relikes of them; by their soules, in vsing them for diuers offices and functions, out of which they sucke no small aduantage. And first concerning relikes, they were not content to make men worship the carcasses of such as were thought to haue led a more holy and religious life then their fellowes (as hauing some diuine vertue in them,) but further caused them to adore the relikes of the very damned themselues: witnesse an auncient Doctor, who saith, Multorum cor∣pora adorantur in terris, quorum animae cruciantur in inferis: that is, The bodies of ma∣ny men are worshipped on earth, whose soules are tormented in hell. Which is manifest by the Legend of S. Martin, where we reade that a damned soule was worship∣ped with high deuotion, as being thought to haue bin a Saint in heauen. I omit two other cosening knaueries, which were ordinary in this case; The one, in ma∣king some poore Saint (who (God knowes) meant simply and thought no hurt) beleeue that when he was liuing he had halfe a dozen heads, two or three dozen of eares, as many hands, and as many armes and legs: which imposture was suffi∣ciently discouered aboue fifteene yeares ago, in a booke containing the Inuentory of sundry relikes of diuers countries. The other, when the body, or at leastwise some member or bone of him that was called a Saint, could be kept no longer, in stead of it they put the first faire one that came to their hands, though of a male∣factor that had bene hanged: yea sometime the bone of an Asse, dog, or such like. As at Geneua, the relike which was worshipped a long time for Saint Anthonies arme, was found in the end to be the bone of a Stag. And though they had not vsed these sleights, yet to attribute the nature and propertie of the Godhead to ca∣rions, was a point of notorious wickednesse in the highest degree. For though it were true, that they had bene indeed the bodies or the bones of certaine men or women, which had liued in greater deuotion towards God then the vulgar sort; yet they were but dead carcasses for all that. Neuerthelesse considering we haue already seene how vilely they abused the word of God, applying it to wicked and abominable writings: no maruell if they abused the Godhead also, attributing it to whatsoeuer themselues thought good. For not content to cause men to wor∣ship the bodies of the Saints departed, or some part and member thereof, they made their garments also, their moueables, their tooles, &•• partaker•• of the same worship. As it is reported that at Triers in the Abbey of S. 〈◊〉〈◊〉, ••. Ioseph▪ pantofles haue bene in request a long time. And at Ai•• in 〈◊〉〈◊〉, they were ac∣customed to shew his breeches, together with the virgin•• Maries smocke, by the same token that the smocke was big enough 〈◊〉〈◊〉 giant; whereas the breeches were scarce big enough for a boy or a dwarfe. It 〈…〉〈…〉 said, that the pots and spoones which belonged to certaine Saints, haue bene elsewhere reckoned in the num∣ber of holy relikes. Nay, there is not so much as the taile of the Asse vpon which our Sauiour rode, but it is at Genoua accounted for a relike. And seeing I haue made mention of the Asse, we are further to note that the holy hay (that is, the hay which was found in the cratch where our Sauiour was layed as soone as he was borne) hath bene very famous in some countries of Lorraine (as I remember.) But what shall we say to a more strange dotage of those wise woodcocks which caused men to worship stones, as being the very same wherewith Saint Stephen was stoned to death? As at the black Friers in Arles, at Vigand in Languedoc, and at Florence: As also of those wise maisters which caused men to worship the arrowes wherewith they affirmed Saint Sebastian was wounded to death: one of which

was kept at the Augustine Friers in Poytiers, another at Lambesk in Prouince, and o∣thers elsewhere. And surely if these stones wherewith Saint Steuen was stoned, ought to be worshipped: how much more then they that stoned him? And if the arrowes were worthy of this honour: how much more worthy were they which shot them?

4 But lest the Reader should wonder too much at this foolery, or rather bru∣tishnesse, I will here relate a certaine story, by which we may perceiue that the poore people (silly soules) in the matter of relikes had neither sense nor reason: so that their estate and condition was worse then that of poore blind men who dare trust those that leade them. The story is this, (for we will do them this fauour to call it so). When Nicodemus tooke our Sauiour downe from the crosse, he gathe∣red some of his bloud, and put it in one of the fingers of his gloue (note here that Nicodemus wore gloues as well as we) with the which bloud he wrought many wonders: for which cause being persecuted by the Iewes, he was glad to rid his hands of it by a strange deuice, which was this. He tooke a peece of parch∣ment, in which he writ all the miracles, and all that appertained to this secret, and closed vp the bloud together with the parchment in a great birds bill (the hi∣storian hath forgotten her name) which when he had bound vp and setled as well as he could, he cast it into the sea, commēding it to the prouidence of God, whose pleasure was (as the story saith) that a thousand or twelue hundred yeares after (or thereabout) this holy Bill hauing trauersed all the seas from East to West, should arriue in Normandie in the very same place where the Abbey of Becke is now situ∣ate; where being cast vp by the violence of the sea into certain shrubs, it so fortuned that a good Duke of Normandy (one of the famous founders of religious houses in those dayes) hunting a Stagge neare to the place; when the huntsmen were at a losse, not knowing what was become either of the stag or of the dogs; at last they found him in a bush, kneeling vpon his knees, and the dogs by him, all very quiet, and vpon their knees also: (some write that they were saying their Pater noster.) Which spectacle did so stirre vp the deuotion of this good Duke, that he caused the wood (where this precious Beake and the iewel therein contained was found) to be disparked incontinently, and there founded an Abbey, which for this cause is called the Abbey of Becke (where they haue this goodly miracle yet to be seene) being so rich, that it may truly be said that this Beake fed many bellies. Now if this one relike or some remnant and remainder thereof did keep and maintaine so ma∣ny idle bellies (yea fed these lubbers so fat, that they were nothing but belly) and not so onely, but so inriched them: let the Reader iudge what abundance of ri∣ches the rabble of other relikes hath brought vnto them, being so many, that hi∣therto they could neuer be comprehended in any Inuentory. And we may well coniecture how great they were, by the shrines in which they were wont to be kept. For the ditches in which these carcasses were layd, were of earth: to speake more plainly; of these pence which came by kissing and adoring of them (or ado∣ration, to speake more properly) they bought for them fine siluer houses, gilt ouer with gold. And though all relikes neither haue bin nor are at this day enchased in siluer or gold, yet I perswade my selfe that there haue bene few of them (at least of those which haue had the better hap) which haue not brought to these hucksters, the value of a shrine or very neare. Now because all relikes haue not bene equally gainfull and commodious vnto them, in that some had not the lucke to light in a country so addicted to miracles; let vs value the best sort of them but at an hundred thousand crownes (though some perhaps haue bene worth many millions) the

meaner sort but at threescore thousand, the worst sort but at twelue thousand: and then gathering the entire summe of them all (and yet of none but of those that are in fresh memory) we may calculate how many thousand crownes these relikes haue gained them.

5 Which account neuerthelesse, doth not in any sort comprehend particu∣lar relikes, which these pedlers or their mates caried with them vp and downe the countrey: (for these were often disclaimed euen by cleargymen themselues, resi∣ding in those parts through which the foresaid pedlers passed.) Which open dis∣claiming of them proceeded partly from enuy, partly from feare; lest the simple people should haue perceiued their iuggling in such open and palpable knauerie, and so should haue begun to haue suspected all the rest. And it is to be noted, that the foresaid knauish companions did so openly mocke and impudently abuse these simple soules, in causing them to worship reliques; that if they had bene let alone, their trade in the end would not haue bene worth a blewe button, either to themselues or vnto others. For they were not content, in opening their packes, to say (that I may omit common matters) Behold here in this viall is Christs blood, gathered from vnder the crosse by the virgine Marie. Item, see here in this other viall the teares of Christ. Item, behold here the swadling bands, wherewith the virgine Mary swadled him in Aegypt. Item, see here the milke of the virgine Marie. Item, behold here the haires of the virgine Marie. They were not (I say) herewith content, but grew to that height of impudency, that they made no bones to say, In this box (but it must in no case be opened) is contained the breath of Christ, carefully kept by his mother from his very infancy. Among the rest of this rout, we reade of a priest of Genoua, who coming out of the East, boasted that he had brought with him the foresaid breath frō Bethlehē, as also the horns which Moses had on his forehead when he descended from mount Sinay. And albeit he had bene told that he did too shamefully abuse the people in laboring to perswade them, that he had the breath of Christ indeed, and the horns of Moses: yet wold he giue them no other answer but this, that if they would not beleeue that he had the breath of Christ, and the hornes of Moses, neither would he beleeue, that the milke which is openly shewed at solemne meetings at Genoua, for the milke of the virgin Mary, was her milke indeed. And this (I hope) may serue to discouer vnto vs their particular imposture in the matter of reliques: which we may well thinke had no lesse vertue to make their kitchen hot, then that which was commonly pra∣ctised.

6 Thus hauing seene what gaine Churchmen got by the bodies of Saints de∣parted (for we will for this once, comprize all reliques vnder the reliques of men and women Saints;) it remaineth that we shew how they inriched themselues by their soules, shewing thēselues as good husbands in this as in the former. And as in the former, so in this I will do my best endeuour to the vttermost: notwithstāding I am to desire the Readers to pardon me, if in reckoning vp the names of men and women Saints, I make not vp the roll of the Kirielle. For we are not onely to name them, but also to shew what office or occupation hath bene assigned to euery of them, that so we may the better see what meanes they vsed to make the wind to blow so fortunately vpon the Church-men. And first, I hope they 〈◊〉〈◊〉 not so strait laced, but that they will grant that there is great similitude and conformity in sun∣dry things betweene the heathen Gods, and their blessed he Saints, betweene their Goddesses, and their she Saints: conformitie I say, not in respect of those that are true Saints indeed (lest any man should calumniate my speech) but onely of their

worshippers. For if the adoration of the heathen gods and goddesses, as also of men and women Saints by them of the Church of Rome, be well considered, we shall find them to sute in all points, saue onely in the maner of sacrifice. As may ap∣peare by these particulars. The heathen went to Apollo and Aesculapius, as to the gods which made profession of Physicke and Chirurgery: and do not they (I be∣seech you) go to S. Cosmas & S. Damian? Whē S. Eloy (who is the Saint for smiths) doth hammer his irons, is he not in stead of god Vulcan? And do they not giue the same titles to S. George, which in old time were giuen to Mars? And do they not honor S. Nicholas after the same manner that Pagans honored god Neptune? And when S. Peter is made a porter, doth he not represent god Ianus? Nay, they would faine make the Angell Gabriel beleeue, that he is god Mercury. And is not Pallas the goddesse of arts & sciēces represented vnto vs by S. Katherine? And haue they not S. Hubert the god of hunters, in stead of Diana? (which office some giue to S. Eustace.) And when they apparell Iohn Baptist in a Lions skin, is it not to represent Hercules vnto vs? And is not Saint Katherine commonly painted with a wheele, as they were wont to paint Fortune? But there is yet a further matter to be conside∣red, viz. that if we obserue the fables which are written of the gods, we shall find that certaine of their cousingermaines are recorded in the Legends of the Saints: except we will say, that it is but a fable being written of the Gods, and a true story being written of the Saints. For example, that the story of the Dragon which was slaine by S. George is not fabulous, as that of Medusa who was slaine by Perseus. But this they cannot deny, that Boniface the fourth, of the Pantheon at Rome, that is, the Temple of all the gods, made Panhagion or All Saints, that is to say, a church for all the Saints: and he further ordained, that the virgin Mary the mother of Christ, should haue the place and office of Cybele the mother of all the gods. To proceed yet further, albeit I haue exempted sacrifices from the resemblance that is betweene the adoration of Saints, and that of the heathen gods: yet a man might find some like sacrifices, if he would take but a litle paines to compare them toge∣ther. Howsoeuer it be, I remember one very fit for this purpose, of a cock which is offered (at least was wont to be offered) to S. Christopher in Touraine, for a certain * 1.12sore, which vseth to be in the end of mens fingers. Wherein they obserue ano∣ther ceremony (to increase the superstition of the people) viz. that he must of ne∣cessitie be a white cocke: for otherwise in stead of making S. Christopher propitious and fauourable vnto them by this meanes, they should offend him. And as for the sacrifice of the Masse, sundry writers haue plainly proued that it had his beginning from the heathen: as the greatest part of ceremonies patched to those that were in vse in the Primitiue Church, haue bene borrowed from them: yet so borowed, as they would neuer returne them againe. And it cannot be denied but that the heathen Poets were the first inuenters, and the great maintainers of Purgatory.

7 But to leaue this correspondence, which is betwixt the Saints and the Pa∣gan gods (in such sort as hath bene said,) we will now prosecute the functions and offices aswell of hee as of shee Saints, to the end it may appeare, that the heathen haue dealt more consideratly herein then the Popes creatures. For though they had a multitude of gods, as great, meane, and little gods (as there are of Saints) yet they made conscience so to diuide offices and functions amongst them, that their so∣ueraigne god Iupiter should haue nothing to do, except he would go shoe the go∣sling; as though he had bene a Nicholas Nemo, and had stood onely for a cypher. Whereas the Popes creatures without any respect of this at all, haue so imployed & busied their Saints with the managing of all their affaires (both great and small)

that they haue passed God ouer, leauing him nothing to do, but onely to raine, snow, haile and thunder. And now at last they will needs haue Saint Genneuiefue (her especially at Paris) to bestirre her stumps in hastening him to cause raine, when there is a great drought▪ as also to leaue rayning when it poureth down too fast, and continueth ouer long. And as for the thunder and the thunderbolts, Saint Barbe (whom they haue made their Saint for harquebuziers) hath by the same meanes obtained this office to beate backe the blowes of the thunderbolt. True it is, all do not agree who that God should be which thundreth▪ and hurleth his bolts abroad, causing storm and tempest: for some haue thought that al proceeded from the diuel: and thereupon haue vsed coniurations against tempests (opposing themselues to the diuell herein) as though he were the cause of thē indeed. Accor∣ding to which perswasion, a certain Priest of Sauoy hauing brought the consecrated host to lay a tempest, and perceiuing that he preuailed nothing, threatned to cast it into the dirt, if it were not stronger then the diuell: taking it for a confessed truth that the diuell was the cause thereof. Howbeit the common saying whereby we expresse a hideous noyse, viz. There was such a noyse that a man could not heare God thundering from heauen, doth confute this opinion. There is yet another particu∣lar wherein the heathen seeme to deale more honestly then the Popes creatures, viz. in that they haue not so lightly esteemed any of their gods as they haue done many of their Saints, in making one to keepe geese, another sheepe, another oxen, and another swine. Which Saints a French gentlewoman remembring in her sicknesse, could not but tell her Confessor, that she feared lest when she came to heauen some filthy beast should be committed to her charge and custody, wherin she tooke no pleasure: but should be right glad, if she might haue some pretty pup∣pies in keeping, to whom she had bene already accustomed. But we must not be so nice as this gentlewoman was, who (so farre as a man may coniecture) presumed too much of her merits: otherwise she would haue thought her self well, to haue bene in heauen vpon the same condition the foresaid Saints were, whose names I will set downe in their proper place. For my purpose is to obserue some methode in numbring them vp, at leastwise so farre as possibly I can, in a matter so confused and out of order. And verily I cannot deuise a better order, then to diuide them by companies according as I haue obserued in my booke intituled The conformi∣tie of the French tongue with the Greeke, (where I haue touched this point in a word or two). This then is my conceit of the matter. To some Saints they haue assigned certain offices according to the signification of their names; for example, touching Saints which are Physitians, it was thought meete that such or such a Saint should cure this or that disease, which sounded likest, or came nearest vnto his name. And hereupon they haue made Saint Maturin Physitian for fooles, hauing relation to the Italian word Matto, coming from the Greeke word 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, of which some French-men haue coined the word Mat. In like sort when it is said that Saint A∣caire cureth the acariastres, that is, frantick or furious bedlams; I make no question but that they respected the originall and deriuation of his name. The like may be said of Saint Auertin who cureth the auertineux, that is, fantasticall lunatick per∣sons, cousingermans to the franticke: at least, it is holden that Saint Auertin cu∣reth all the diseases of the head, the greatest of which is the Lunasie, as we know. So when Saint Eutrope is made Physitian of such as are troubled with the drop∣sie, they haue (I take it) confounded Eutrope with Hydrope. And I perswade my selfe, that for the same reason Saint Mammard is made a Physitian des mammelles, that is, of the paps. Saint Phiacre of the Phy or emeroids, of those especially which

grow in the fundament. And as for Saint Main who healeth the scab des mains, that is, of the hands, the words do not onely sound alike, but are the very same. And whereas S. Genou is said to cure the gout, it is because this disease is for the most part au genou, that is, in the knee. And as for S. Agnan (or Aignā) it is very pro∣bable that they which pronounced it S. Tignan, made this poore Saint physitian of that filthy disease called Latigne, the scurfe. And there was the same reason (in my iudgement) in assigning trades and occupations to some of the Saints: for ex∣ample, when they made S. Crepin a shoomaker and patron of shoomakers and sow∣ters, they had (no doubt) respect to the Latin word crepida (borrowed from the Greeke) which signifieth a pantoufle: so that S. Crepin is as much in good French as S. Pantouflier, that is to say, S. Pantoufle-maker. As for S. Medard, whose occu∣pation (if it may be called an occupation) is to smi••ke and smile; it will not out of my conceit, but that it cometh of the Greek word 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, which signifieth to laugh. As for their other Saints, they had respect (I take it) to the miseries which they suf∣fered whilest they liued in the world: of which we haue an example in S. Susanna, professing her selfe to take pitie vpon those which suffer the same or the like op∣probry that she did, when she was here vpon earth. And I dare be bold to say, that Iob vpon the same ground was made a Physitian: but yet (by their leaues) they were too blame to make him a Physitian of the French pox (as if the botch which he had, had bene the pox) which disease (we know) was not knowne in the world till a few yeares before our time. As for sundry other men and women Saints, I suppose they were directed by their Legends, when the question was of assigning them any function or trade of life. Howeuer it be, I will here set downe a beade-role of others which I haue not named as yet in this last catalogue, not forgetting their functions or vocations. And first, as Crepin is a shoomaker, so S. Roch (who also cureth certaine diseases) is a sowter or cobler: S. Wendelin is a shepheard: S. Pe∣laud (or according to others, S. Pelage) a neat-heard. Saint Anthonie a swineheard. S. Gertrude a rat-catcher. S. Honore a baker. S. Eloy a smith. S. Hubert a huntsman or forrester. S. Luke a painter. S. Nicholas a mariner. S. George a Knight at armes. S. Yue a lawyer. S. Anne helpeth men to find what they haue lost. S. Leonard setteth pri∣son doores open for prisoners, and causeth their fetters to fall from them. Besides, there are certaine Saints which beare office in the Court of heauen: for one is Por∣ter, another Yeoman of the Guard, another Groome of the chamber, another Steward, another Secretary, another Chancellor, &c. But I will leaue the further prosecuting of this discourse to such as haue more leisure then my self. Touching Saints which are Physitians, it must be remembred that they do not professe the cure of all diseases, as our Physitians do; but content themselues with the cure of one onely. S. Eutrope (as hath bene said) cureth the dropsie. S. Iohn and S. Valentine the falling sicknes (called also the Epilepsie or S. Iohns euil.) S. Roch and S. Sebastian the plague (though according to some Doctors S. Roch cureth onely the scab and scurfe.) S. Petronelle (S. Peters daughter) cureth all sorts of feuers. S. Apollonia the tooth ach. S. Maturine the frensie. S. Romaine casteth diuels out of men possessed. S. Cosmas and S. Damia are not Physitians but Chirurgions, as appeareth by that famous and excellent cure of theirs recorded in their Legend, of which I haue al∣ready spoken, viz. how they vndertaking to cure one of their friends thighs, to the end they might make quicke dispatch, cut it off, and in stead thereof put the thigh of a poore blacke Moore, who (as we may imagine) died a litle before (as it were) for the nonce, and very fitly for the purpose.

8 As for other other men and women saints, he and she physitians, they must

pardon me (if they please) though I do not here register their names: not because I scorne them, or do it to spare paper, but for feare lest I should purchase the dis∣pleasure of the Colledge of Physitians: for if any of the Popes creatures being sick, should leaue them and go to the foresaid Saints, a thousand to one but they wold accuse me to haue marred their market. Another reason which moueth me to de∣sist from making this catalogue, is for that those which haue written of the seuerall gifts, qualities and functions of the Saints, do not agree among themselues. For some affirme S. Ferioll to be the fittest in the world to keepe geese: others, that this office belongs to S. Andoch: others will needs beare vs in hand that neither of them haue any skill therein, but that it wholly appertaines to S. Gallicet, called by some sanctus Gallus, albeit others say that it is not the same. In like manner, albeit I said before, that it is Saint Wendalus occupation to keepe sheepe, yet I am not ignorant that many hold it to belong to S. Wolfe. But I can alleadge for my self, Vnde versus, Wendlinus custodit oues, ouium{que} magistros: (where it is to be noted, that the Poet hath curtailed this poore Saints name, because it was too long for his verse.) And this is one of the authorities which I build vpon, in assigning this occupation to this Saint. But if it be lawfull for me to vse coniectures in so weightie a matter, I doubt lest some reiect S. Wendelin, for that his name sauoureth too much of the high Dutch: others contrarily like him better then S. Wolfe, because it seemes to them a matter presaging some ill fortune to commit sheepe to the keeping of one called Wolfe, were he neuer so good a Saint. And in very deed, if S. Wolfe would take my counsell, I would aduise him to change his name. Moreouer, there is some controuersie amongst them, who it should be that keepeth lambes, (for when we speake of the office of the Saints, these are two seuerall and distinct things, to keepe sheepe and to keepe lambes) for some say it is S. Iohn, others assigne another guar∣dian for them. The truth is, it is scarce probable that S. Iohn should keepe lambes, seeing that the Lions skinne which he weareth would make them afraid. Againe, S. Hubert (as some affirme) keepes dogs: others say no; affirming that he is onely a hunter or forrester, and no dog-keeper. Besides, many assigne the office which we gaue to S. Roch, to S. Main, in healing the itch and scab. Howbeit his Proctours af∣firme that this office was not giuen to S. Main, but onely by lustie rogues which kept high wayes, suborned by him to counterfet this euill. And as for healing of the gout (which we haue assigned to S. Genou) many attribute it to S. Maure. And some affirme it to be S. Claire that healeth red eyes; others that it is S. Clayre the woman Saint: a third sort, that neither of them are employed herein, but that S. Otilie (commonly called Otlie) cureth all the diseases of the eies. Whereas notwith∣standing the good woman went to S. Claire for this end, and besought a Priest to say a Masse for her, wherein he should call vpon S. Claire for the cure of her eyes, S. Auertin of her head, S. Anthonie of her swine. Which putteth me in mind of a woman of Paris formerly mentioned (who is yet liuing, if she be not lately dead) who requested a certaine sir Iohn to put for her into his Masse a halfe peny worth or fiue farthing worth of the holy Ghost. But whether the testimony of this good woman be of any weight or not, I report my selfe to those who are better seene in the Legends of the glorious Saints: wherein I can say nothing but this, that they which haue bestowed this vpon S. Clair (or S. Clayre) to cure sore eyes, had an eye to the Etymologie of their name (as they had to sundry others, as we haue already shewed:) for a man can no way better cure the eyes then by making them see cleer∣ly. Moreouer, S. Quintin is one of those Saints which cannot peaceably enioy his place and office: for there be other saints which challenge the curing of the cough,

as proper vnto them. There are others also who thinke it much amisse that S. A∣pollonie (commonly called S. Apolline) should cure the tooth-ake: affirming Saint Christopher to be the true and naturall Physitian thereof. And surely for my part I subscribe thereunto, and withall affirme, that it is much better beseeming S. Chri∣stopher, considering his tooth (which is to be seene at Beauuois in Beauuoisin, in a li∣tle Abbey which beareth his name) which is of that sise, that Godfrey with the great tooth could neuer come neare it: for it is of that bignesse, that the mouth which should lodge but a browne dozen of them, must needs be greater then the mouth of the greatest ouen * 1.13 betwixt Yorke and London. What inferre you hereupon, may some say? Doth it therefore follow that he should be Physitian for the teeth? Yes verily; because that when he cannot get a tooth to set in the roome of that which he pulleth out, he needeth but to take a litle peece of some of his owne teeth. But I should presume too farre if I should take vpon me to decide such controuersies: and I hope the gentle Reader knowing my profession, will not looke for it at my hands: especially considering that the authors of all these fine fables can no more tell what they say then the man in the Moone. I will therefore content my selfe with this, that I haue searched into the marrow of the matter as well as their grea∣test Doctors.

9 Touching S. Michael, S. Iames, S. Claudius, (who lending their names to their pilgrimes, haue giuen them the names of Michaelians, Iacobins and Claudians) they are not tied by their taske to any certaine worke as the rest are; and therfore I leaue the discourse of them to some other. There are also other Saints which seeme to haue bene deuised vpon pleasure or malice, as S. Lickdish, which sold his gowne (as they say) for I know not what lickorish meate.

10 If any man shall here aske me, whether these worshippers of Saints are perswaded that they can cure certaine diseases which ordinary Physitians cannot do; I answer, that they are so perswaded indeed. And first touching barrennesse, (which doth so plunge Physitians and puts them to their trumps) there are many Saints which can easily cure it and make women become fruitfull by one onely deuout embracing. For first S. Guerlichou (in the Abbey of the citie Bourg de Dieu, neare to Rommorantin, and in sundry places elsewhere) braggeth that he can get as many women with child as come, be they neuer so many; if whilest they are go∣ing with child, they faile not to stretch themselues deuoutly vpon the holy Idoll which lieth all flat vpon his back, and standeth not vpright as the rest do: besides, that they drinke euery day a certaine potion mingled with the scrapings of the said image, and by name with the scraping of that part which I cannot name with mo∣destie. Now whether this do get women with child or not, I leaue to be decided by those that haue forged it or approue of such diuellish deuotion: which would haue bene holden a wonderment to the world, if it had bene recorded by any bar∣barous or heathen people; what shall we say then to see it in vse euē amongst those who professe themselues Christians? Yet I am not very certen whether this Saint be in as good credit at this present, as he was in times past: sith they which haue seene him (to whom I am beholden for this report) affirme it to be about twelue yeares ago, since he had that part almost worne away by continual scraping. There is also in the country of Constantin in Normandie (commonly called Contantin) a certaine Saint called S. Giles, which was no lesse famous for such matters (how old and decayed soeuer) according to the common saying, (especially of those who vainly busie themselues about such trumperies, and sell them vnto others) there is no miracle comparable to that which is wrought by an old Saint. I haue also heard

of a certaine Saint called S. René in Anjou, which busieth himselfe in this occu∣pation. But how women behaue themselues when they are in his company (con∣sidering that he shewes them that which ciuilitie would haue couered,) as I am ashamed to write it, so I am sure the Readers would blush to reade it. I could fur∣ther discouer many other secrets appertaining to this mystery, which notwith∣standing I will omit for the same reason: and will content my selfe with that which is reported of our Lady of gladnesse, viz. that those that cannot haue chil∣dren, do pull (at least were accustomed to pull) the bell ropes that are in her church with their teeth.

11 And was there euer yet any Physition that could cure the sicknesse of iea∣lousie? No verily: yet it is said that there is a Saint at Tou, that is a notable work∣man to cure it, though no Physition could euer turne his hand to it. We haue also S. Auertin, S. Acayre, S. Maturin (I meane S. Maturin of Archant, whom others call S. Mathelin, whence cometh the old prouerb vsed in way of a by-word, Teste ma∣thelineuse, a head full of crochets) who cure the foresaid diseases which Physitions (we know) were neuer able to do, for all their Helleborum. These few examples may suffice to shew what excellent Phisitions these Popish saints are.

12 There is yet another remarkable difference betweene the saints which are said to professe physicke in heauen, and other Physitions here vpon earth, viz. that each of these saints can inflict the same disease which they can cure, as may hence appeare: for when we say S. Hands euill, S. Iohns euill, we signifie as well the disease which they send, as the disease which they heale. True it is indeed, that some saints are more cholerick and dangerous to deale with then others: of which number S. Anthony is the chiefe; for he burneth vp all before him for the least dis∣pleasure done to him or to his minions. For if any iniury be offered either men or swine (for he is Lord Protector of them both) they make their prayer to S. An∣thony, that he would be auenged of them, and then the diuell is among them. As for swine, they speak neuer a word, yet the whoresons think neuer a whit the lesse: for this Saint will not suffer them to remaine such brute beasts as they are by na∣ture. So that that may be said of this & other Saints (which are more cholerick and dangerous to deale with) which the Latin Poet affirmed generally of all the gods, Primus in orbe Deos fecit timor. For as that good woman, after she had giuen a can∣dle to S. Michael, gaue another to the diuell which was with him: to S. Michael, to the end he might do her some good; to the diuell, that he might do her no hurt: so it is not to be doubted, but that S. Anthony and other like Saints haue bene wor∣shipped as much or rather more for feare of some mischiefe they might do vnto them, then for hope of any good they expected from them. And this is the reason of that great contention and conflict which was betwixt those of the citie of Arles and the Anthonians of Viennois about this question, both of them affirming that they had the body of S. Anthony in their custody, and each of them shewing one of them, which they affirmed to be his. In fine, S. Anthony was left with two entire bodies, for default of one; and with many other parts and members in sundry pla∣ces, with halfe a dozen of knees at the least; one of which was at Bourg, another at Mascon, another at Dijon, another at Chalons, another at Ouroux, another at the Au∣gustins of Albi. See now what S. Anthony hath gotten by being so lusty, at leastwise by causing this report to be blazed abroad, that he was such a sharpe shauer. This also ought to teach vs to demeane our selues wisely towards those who are in dan∣ger to be canonized for Saints after their death, seeing that is not true which the prouerbe saith, * 1.14 Les trespasses ne mordent plus, Dead men cannot bite, if we speake of

canonized Saints; or if it be true, this Popish Philosophie is erroneous and false.

13 But let vs see whether there be not in this very point a conformitie be∣twixt the heathen Gods and the Saints, that (all things being duly considered) we may perceiue which of them haue bene more honoured of their worshippers. First then, there is no question but that the heathē were perswaded that their gods could as well hurt as helpe, kill as cure, (as the Papists haue deemed of their saints.) But whereas the Popes creatures are of opinion that euery saint doth but cure one onely disease, and that he cannot inflict any other in way of punishment or reuenge, saue that onely: the heathen were perswaded that their gods had e∣quall power ouer all diseases, either to inflict them or to remoue them, in hurting or healing, making sicke or making sound. By which we may plainly perceiue, that the Papists come short of the heathen, in that they giue not so much honour to their saints as they did to their gods: which we are to vnderstand of women saints as well as of men saints, and of goddesses as well as of gods. But the Popes creatures not content to giue but this halfe worship to their saints (as well in this, as in that they beare men in hand, that they can skill but of one trade) are come to this passe, to do them the greatest dishonour in the world, in assigning vnto ••••em so vile and abiect, yea so filthy and sordide occupations, that it would make a man sicke at the heart to name them: as when they make some shoomakers, o∣thers coblers, others swine-heards, &c. For though the Pagans ranged Pan in the ranke of the inferiour gods, and of the meanest sort of those which were compa∣nions of the gods, yet they would haue bene ashamed to haue made him a swine-heard. And as for saints which are handicrafts men, to make armor (as Vulcan did) is a cleanlier occupation then to make shoes. True it is, that the Popish Preachers (at leastwise those that had any wit) haue so cunningly contriued their knauery, and caried the matter so in a mystery, that the simple people haue not desisted to giue them as good and as great offerings, as if they had bene of a higher ranke: for they made this an argument of their greater praise and cōmendation. Witnesse the preacher who discoursing of the life of S. Crepin, affirmed that this glorious saint might haue bene Pope, that he might haue bene King (yea king of France) that he might haue bene Emperor, but that he chose rather to be a shoomaker. And yet my maisters and dames (said he) consider (I beseech you) what a roguish trade it is, and how filthy and sordide an occupation: If there were nothing else but this, that they must euer be handling the shoomakers waxe, and tugging at these stin∣king skins with their bare teeth. By which you may perceiue how great the humi∣litie of this glorious saint was. Howbeit he was no sooner come out of the pulpit, but the company of the most noble shoomakers and coblers of the place layd hold of him, and curried him so well, that they caused him to make a pitifull constru∣ction of his sermon from beginning to end. But leauing others to iudge of this fact, (I meane whether the striker or he that was strucke had the wrong) I thinke this Preacher had reason to say thus much of S. Crepin to saue his credit. But one thing he affirmed which is almost incredible, and which (I perswade my selfe) is proper to this saint, viz. that he made choise of this occupation whilest he was here vpon earth, which he meant to follow when he came into heauen.

14 But some may haply reply against that which I haue said, concerning the Popes creatures, that they giue lesse honor to their Saints then the heathen do to their gods, when they affirme that euery saint hath not power ouer more then one onely disease, and knowes but one onely trade. And they may obiect that they

make their Saints patrons and protectors of cities and countries, as the heathen made their gods. And that as the Babilonians (for example) had Bell for their Pa∣tron, the Aegyptians Isis and Osiris, the Rhodians the Sunne, the Samians Iuno, the Paphians Venus, the Delphians Apollo, the Athenians Minerua, the Ephesians Diana: So the Spaniards haue Saint Iames for their Patron; the French Saint Denis; they of Limosin Saint Martiall aboue the rest: all the Germans in generall Saint George; they of Ausburgh Saint Vlrich; they of Colen the three Kings: they of Milan Saint Ambrose: the Venetians Saint Marke: the Romanists of these times Saint Peter and Saint Paul together with their Lieutenant. I omit the Saints who haue giuē their names to cities, as Saint Quintin, Saint Di••ier, Saint Denis, Saint Agnan, Saint Paul, Saint Omer, which may be called in Latine (as the rest aboue mentioned) Tutelares sancti, as they were wont to call them Tutelares Dij: But what inference can hereupon be inforced? Surely this, that the Popes creatures (putting their Saints in the roome and place of the heathen gods) haue giuen sufficient testimo∣ny that they had as reuerent an opinion of their sufficiency, as the heathen had of the sufficiency of their gods, in commanding all sorts of maladies, either by sen∣ding them, or remouing them, and in knowing all manner of occupations. (For albeit the heathen do not affirme that their gods do excercise trades: yet this they hold as a most certen truth, that they know them, and are well seene in them.) But this is no good consequent; for many men take workes in hand which they afterwards put ouer to others, because they cannot effect or finish thē themselues, as those who are called in latine redemptores; who though they take in hand to build an house, and to finish it, yet doth it not by & by follow, they should be Car∣penters or hewers of stones, or Masons, or Tylers: but agreeing with sundry sorts of workemen in that which appertaines to euery mans trade, and trusting to their workemanship, tooke vpon them the charge of the whole. And I make no questi∣on but that these great tutelary Saints, (protectors and patrons of cities) did the like in trafficking with other petty Saints of lesse account, touching the worke which was proper to their trade, or office which was belonging vnto them: and so hauing the furtherance of many, tooke vpon them the gouernment of the whole.

15 But now (whereas I thought I had bene come to the end of this di∣scourse,) I find that there is yet more worke behind: for I am aware of a legion of our Ladies, from whence the greatest part of the Clergies reuenue doth arise. And verily the thing which made me forget them (for I will confesse the truth) was, in that speaking of men and women Saints, I was affraid I should haue committed an absurditie, if I should haue ranged them in that ranke, and afterwards the varie∣ty of matter made me forget them. And if any man shall haply thinke it a greater absurditie to place them at the taile of the Saints, I haue what to answer for my selfe: for I can alleadge that which one holpe himselfe withall in the like case, that he which goeth last in procession, hath the first and most honorable place. Neuer∣thelesse, if the Popes creatures will not take this reason for good payment, but will needs moue my patience, they shall find (peraduenture) that they haue to deale with another manner of man then they take me for. For I will neuer let them rest, till they haue answered me categorically, whether so many of our Ladies be so ma∣ny virgin Maries, mothers of our Sauiour Christ? If they shall answer, that they are, they will runne into grosse absurdities. If they shall answer, that they are not, they will fall into greater. But because I am so perswaded of their curtesies, that they wil easily pardon and excuse this incongruity in my last speech (if it were so,) I wil not vexe them with such a violent question, being such a one as might easily

make them lose that little wit and vnderstanding they haue, in answering ther∣of. Onely let me desire them to tell me, whether all our Ladies▪ which I am about to name, make one onely Lady or not?

16 It is therefore to be noted that some of our Ladies are named of the place where they reside, and haue their abode. Others of the trade or occupation where∣in they are imployed. Concerning the first, some of them beare the name of some citie or towne, others shew by their names what manner of place it is where they remain. Examples of those which haue the name of the citie or towne where they reside, are these, our Lady of Loretto, our Lady of Bononia, our Lady of Wels in Au••ergne, our Lady of Aix, our Lady of Nan••ueill, our Lady of Francueil. Examples of the second kind, to wit of those whose names expresse the nature of the place where they make their aboade, are, our Lady of the Valley, our Lady of the Mountaine, (the name of the mountaine being specified in sundry of them, as our Lady of Mont-ferra, our Lady of Mont-gautier, our Lady of Mont-Roland: And in Lāguedoc, our Lady of Cabimont, (being in the Cape, that is, in the top of the mountaine.) Our Lady of the Woods, our Lady of the Fields, our Lady of the faire Oke, (because she stood by the way side ouer against an oke,) our Lady of the faire Walnut-tree for the like reason, our Lady of the Well, because she stood hard by a well: our Lady of the Fountaine for the same reason. And at Chartres, for that there are (at least were) two of our Ladies, whereof the one is within, the other vnder the Church; that within being called our Lady aboue; the other our Lady below, or our Lady vnder the earth, or our Lady of Crotes, that is, of the hollow valt; not because she is crottée dabled and dirty (as the word signifieth) but because she is in a conca∣uitie vnder the earth made in manner of a caue; for the word Crote (taken in this sense) cometh from the greeke crypta, whereupon some are wont to say croton és prisons, as if a man should say, the deep dungeon in the prison. Further, they call ano∣ther our Lady of Carmel, meaning her that is in the Church of the Carmelites, ano∣ther our Lady of Snow; for that in the hottest time of Summer the place was mi∣raculously filled with snow as they say. I come now to our Ladies who haue their names of the trades which they follow, and actions which they performe. For ex∣ample our Lady of Recouery, our Lady of Comfort, our Lady of Gladnesse, our Lady of All ioyes, our Lady of Pitie, our Lady of Vertues, our Lady of Good tydings, our Lady of Good wishes, our Lady of Helpe, and an infinite number of others.

17 But this is not all. For we must know, that there is great difference be∣twixt our Ladies in other things as well as in their names. For one is old and ve∣ry foule; another young and very faire, another of a middle age, and reasonable good countenance, (which yet is tolerable.) One is very big, another very little, (which also is not much materiall.) One hath a merry looke, another a sad coun∣tenance (& herein also there is no great hurt.) Wherin consisteth it then? Verily in that they vsually compose their countenances, and attire themselues like harlots, as they were wont to set out Mary Magdalen (whom they haue not bene ashamed to paint naked in some places) and as they haue painted S. Mary the Aegyptian. Which puts me in minde of that which I haue read in Iohn Menard of our Lady of all beauties at Tours, so called, for that they vsed the same deuise in painting of her with an ancient limmer vsed in painting the goddesse Venus. For they beheld all the faire maids and beautiful yong women of Tours, taking from one a high fore∣head, from another prety round eyes, wel proportioned, comely and amiable, frō another a proportionable nose, from another a prety fine laughing mouth, and a dimpled chinne, &c. Now, whether this obiect of so faire a Lady stirre vp

deuotion the better or not, I leaue to be determined by such as are more compe∣tent iudges. Howbeit this I can say, that I haue bookes in parchment containing their Ma••ins, Euensong▪ and Complies, and other parts of such silly seruice, which haue the pictures of fine yong dames painted in them, being of such wan∣ton and lasciuious countenances and behauiours, that we may well apply vnto them the saying of Propertius, Docta vel Hippolitum Veneri mollire negantem. But what Ladies pictures these were, whether the pictures of those whom the owners of these bookes had at command, or of those whom they desired they might haue, I cannot define. Howsoeuer, certes they were some such to whom they bare so entire affection, as that they could not forbeare the sight of them▪ no not whilest they were at their prayers, for feare they should forget them.

18 But to returne to the former question, to wit, whether all our Ladies which I named euen now, be one and the same Ladie or not. If they shall say, that they are one and the same: I would demaund of them, why she doth so dis∣guise her selfe into so many fashions? If they shall answer, that they be diuers: I would desire them to shew me which of them is the virgine Mary Christs mo∣ther. But this were to fall againe into the former question, wherewith I promised not to trouble them any more. It were better then (for the present) we should con∣tent our selues with the opinion of the good woman of Mont-richard, who said that our Lady of Nantueil and our Lady of Francueil were sisters: and that we take aduice vpon good and mature deliberation, if we can obtaine so much that all of them may be either sisters or at leastwise of kin.

19 But beside the sundry attires of our Ladies, there is such strange varietie in the habits of the Saints, that he that should go about to describe them, had need haue on his considering cap▪ to know where to begin. For one is starke naked, ano∣ther halfe naked, another well apparelled. One weareth a great hat, another a litle one; a third sort, I know not what to call it, resembling the Turkish * 1.15 turbante. Some are muffled, others are hooded, others cowled, others bigguined. One is armed at all points, another hath onely sword and buckler; another but sword and dag∣ger. One is on foote, another on horsebacke. Neither is this all; for one laugheth, another weepeth: one lookes as though he had wonne all; another as if he had lost euery crosse. To be short, the difference betweene them is incredible, yea euen in∣finite, not onely in these, but in sundry other particulars. And therefore it is the more to be wondered (with which I will conclude) how they being so dis∣agreeing, so crosse and contrary one to another, should notwithstanding make so good harmony in the kitchins of our holy mother the Church; which all of them labour to vphold with one accord (imploying all their happie and glorious miracle-mungering to keepe them hot) and so maintaine them, that our holy mo∣ther doth not enuy the kitchins of Kings and Emperours. True it is, that she doth also keepe them pretie and warme with the reuenues of the Saints, (as hath bene said) which though it be exceeding great (as may appeare by the accoūt that hath bene cast onely in grosse,) yet if we consider how much the gaine which she get∣teth by the soules of the saints departed, doth surpasse that which she hath by their bodies; it will appeare that the reuenue which ariseth from the foresaid corps, compared with that which accreweth by the soules, will not buy sugar to the wine.

20 And now I come to the other point which I promised to handle in this Chapter, viz. how intollerable the couetousnesse of the Cleargie was. But what? (may some say) May we not discouer this impudent couetous dealing by sundry

places of this booke, as namely by that which hath bene already spoken in this Chapter? It is true (I confesse.) But now my purpose is to detect monstrous im∣pudencie, or (if I may so speake) the very quintessence of impudencie, yea of im∣pudency accompanied with most abhominable impietie. And the example which I will produce for this purpose, is so authenticall, that they cannot possibly deny it, except they will deny their owne hand-writing. For see here their owne words which they haue engraued in Gothian letters, in a table of stone, which is (at least was wont to be not long since) fastened to a pillar of S. Steuens Church at Bourges, neare to the Altar where the high Masse was sung.

Hîc des deuotè: coelestibus associo te. Mentes aegrota, per munera sunt ibi lotae. Ergo venitote gentes, à sorde remotae. Qui datis, estote certi de diuite dote. Te precor, accelera, spergas hîc dum potes, aera: Et sic reuera, securè, caelica spera. O si tu scires quantum data prosit ibi res, Tu iuxta vires donares quod dare quires. Te miser à poena, dum tempus habes, aliena. Huc dare te poena veniae, sit aperta crumena. Consors coelestis fabricae qui porrigit est is. Ex hoc sum t••stis, hîc vos mundare potestis. Fratres haurite de trunco pocula vitae: Hîc aliquid sinite, veri velut Israëlitae. Crede mihi, crede, coeli dominaberis aede. Nam pro mercede, Christo dices, mihi cede. H••c datur exponi Paradisus venditioni. Currant ergo boni, rapientes culmina thr••ni. Vis retinere forum? mihi tradas pauca bonorum, Pro summa quorum reserabitur aula polorum. Hîc si largè des, in coelo sit tua sedes: Qui serit hîc parcè, parcè comprendet in arce. Cur tardas tantum? nummi mihi des aliquantum. Pro solo nummo gaudebis in aethere summo. Denos sume quater, vnum semel, haec sacra mater Annos condonat, sanctus Pater ista coronat. Tot quadragenas dat & abluit hic tibi poenas Mil missis decies socius, si des ibi, fies.

The subiect or matter of these verses (which I speake for their sakes who vnder∣stand not Latin; not hauing translated them, because their grace consisteth in the rime) is nothing but this, that he which giueth to the boxe, goeth straight to hea∣uen: (and the more he giueth, the higher shall his place be) and he that giueth no∣thing, shall neuer come there. For

Hîc datur exponi Paradisus venditioni:

which is thus much in good English,

Here Paradise is set to open sale.

But that the Reader who vnderstandeth not Latin, may iudge whether I had rea∣son to censure these verses as I did, I will expound vnto him these two,

Crede mihi, crede, coeli dominaberis ••de:

Nam pro mercede, Christo dices, mihi cede.

That is,

For meede beleeue me, thou shalt gaine a crowne, Yea rule in heauen, and say to Christ, Come downe.

Now if any man desire to haue the sence of them word for word, see here what a fine lesson they teach vs: Assure thy selfe thou shalt be Lord great maister of hea∣uen; for in lieu of the money which thou hast giuen, thou shalt say to Christ, Stand backe, giue place.

CHAP. XXXIX. How our Ancestors were nuzzeled in ignorance of Christian religion: and how the Popish Cleargie alwaies maintained themselues, notwithstan∣ding their wicked liues were notoriously knowne to the world, and that many of their iugling trickes and false miracles had bene discouered.

PVrposing to shew in this chapter, how some euen from the dayes of our forefathers, began to open their eies and to espy the packing and conueyance of Church-men; I thought it requisite in the first place, to consider how great the darknesse and ignorance, as also the abuses of those times were. I am therefore to intreate the Rea∣der to call to mind sundry examples to this purpose dispersed here and there in diuers places of this booke; besides which, (if neede were) infinite more might be added: howbeit, three or foure shall suffice. First then, is it not a strange fopperie to thinke, that those men or women which their Church Calender hath marked with red letters, are men and women Saints, that is, gods and goddesses? or at least∣wise petty gods, and (as I may say) subordinate gods? For if they had not iudged them such, questionlesse, they wold neuer haue ascribed vnto them diuine power, which God reserues as proper to himselfe alone. So that here we may see not one∣ly their simplicitie single and alone by it selfe, but accompanied with horrible im∣pietie. But this is yet far more hideous and horrible, in that they dare affirme, that if the holy Ghost were bit by a mad dog, it is necessarie he should go to Saint Hu∣bert if he would be healed; which was auerred by a pedler of the reliques of the foresaid Hubert. And considering the great account and reuerent opinion which they had of the Pope as well as of the Saints, was it not meere madnesse to thinke that as soone as a man became Pope, he became also god? That he had the keyes of heauen and of hell, to let those into heauen that would giue some thing to him or his: and to send them packing to hell that would giue nothing? That it was a lesse sinne to kill a man then to eate flesh vpon a friday, or to violate any such commandement enioyned by this earthly god? But if we consider the sacrifice of the Masse and the abuses therein committed, what else can be said, but that many haue bene and are at this day strangely bewitched, in beleeuing that there are cer∣taine soules in Purgatorie which cannot be deliuered thence, but by the meanes of many Masses? That a sir Iohn hauing pronounced certaine Sacramentall words ouer all the bread in the market, makes so many loaues to become ••o many gods? That men eate their maker, and afterward cause him to passe through that place

that cannot be named with modestie? And (which is a point worthy obseruati∣on) can it neuer sufficiently be wondred at, that the things which shold be meanes to roote superstition out of their minds, should plant and root it in them more and more? For they should haue had their breaden god in iealousie, and then at least haue suspected him, when they saw his blood and flesh poyson men: his blood poysoning William Archbishop of Yorke, in the time of Pope Anastasius the fourth; and his flesh poysoning the Emperour Henrie the seuenth, by meanes of one Bernard of Montpolitian a Iacobin Fryer, being one of the faction of the Guelphes. Neither ought they onely to suspect it, but altogether to reiect it, with adieu in the diuels name, seeing it suffereth it selfe to be deuoured of beasts. For, it is well knowne that the magnificent Maygret (now deceased) had a litle shag hai∣red spaniell which ate fourescore of them to his breakfast, and all without drinke. But how shold it be reuenged of dogs, when it cannot saue it selfe from mice? For these pretie beasts haue not onely bene so bold as to go into his pixe to nibble at him there, but haue also presumed to runne away with him, lying vpon the Altar, whilest the Priest was asleepe in his memento: which accident happened (as we know) at a towne called Saint Marie, and at Paris in Saint Marries Church. Veri∣ly, such accidents as these should haue taught them a litle more wit, and to haue thought with themselues how farre they came short of their reckoning, in attribu∣ting Gods diuine attributes to such a peece of past which suffers it self to be deuou∣red of a mouse. Whereas they contrarily, as often as any such thing happened, ad∣ded one foolerie to another. For example, at Lodeue in Gascoine, wheras the mouse which had eaten vp this breaden god, should haue made them open their eyes to see the cosening tricks wherewith they had bene abused: they notwithstanding were so farre from surceasing to giue to other peeces of past (his fellowes) as great honour as before, that they canonized the mouse, calling her the holy mouse. The like brutishnesse was knowne to haue bene practised during the last garboiles in France. For a certaine gentleman Masse-marrer (whom I could name if it were needfull) hauing heard the sound of the sacring bell in the streets (as he was on his way) asked what it meant: and hauing learned that it gaue warning, that they were readie to the Eleuation, as a man would say, to lift or raise vp god; said to his men, Let vs make hast that we may come before he get vp, and serue him as groomes of his chamber; for my part I will bring him his cleane shirt. Who being come thi∣ther, tooke this fine god and offered him to his horse before them all, who beheld this fact with exceeding great astonishment: but when they saw the horse thrust out his nose as soone as the br••aden god came neare him, they said, it was an argu∣ment that he had bin accustomed to receiue his maker. And this puts me in mind of the holy penknife, that is, the pēknife wherwith a consecrated host was pricked at Paris by a Iew, which was afterwards reckoned in the number of holy reliques, in one of the Churches of the said citie, (at S. Iohns in Greue as I remember:) as if by such an action it had bene hallowed. See here (gentle Reader) how these fellowes in stead of scorning these gods which suffered themselues to be murthered, and eaten vp of vermin, haue not ceased to worship them as much as euer before: nay to adore the deuourers and murtherers of them: for I call the pen-knife where∣with this stab was giuen, a murtherer.

2 And we shall the lesse wonder how men could euer be so brutish, as to lend their eares to such doctrine, if we consider in what account they held the au∣thors thereof. For though Angels descending in some visible shape from heauen, should haue come & preached vnto them, they could not haue entertained them

with greater reuerence, then they did a rabblement of wicked and abhomi∣nable lolling-lobbies, which fed thē not onely with plaine lyes, but with lyes ful of impietie, and worse without comparison then Talmudicall or Mahometicall fa∣bles. But to descend from the generall to particulars, that is, from sundry sorts and sects of hypocriticall shauelings, to come to one; will not this be a wonderment to posterity, that men should attribute so much to Franciscans▪ yea to their very at∣tire, as to cause children to weare it for a time, that by this meanes they may come to mans estate? That some should weare it a litle before their death, feeling them∣selues deadly sicke? That others (who had no leasure to weare it before, should take order by their wils, to be interred in it? And who (I beseech you) were they that vsed this kind of Metamorphosis? Verily great Lords, as much or rather more then the common people: yea euen kings and Emperours themselues. Indeed the Earle of Carpi (being one of the last that turned Frier in this sort) is left alone as a by-word and laughing stocke to all posteritie. But the greater part not content with their habit, betooke themselues to their couent, bequeathing vnto them their goods, and so defrauding their children or kinsfolk, who in equity and conscience should haue bene their heirs. And as for those that would needs become Francis∣cans, will not posterity wonder to heare, that since this fancie tooke them in the head to become of this order of religious men, they were so far from taking aduise and counsel of their parents, that if it had bene necessary in entring into that order, to tread father & mother vnder their feet, they thought they were bound to do it? And to the end they might the more enrich themselues by this meanes, they were so impudent and shamelesse (in abusing the simplicitie of the poore people) that they made no bones to tell them, yea to make them beleeue that there was no o∣ther meanes in the world whereby the diuell could be saued, but by perswading him to take the habit of Saint Francis. Indeed I do not remember that I haue read this in the booke of Conformities: but sure I am that I haue read in it farre more impudent lies, in praise and commendation of their order.

3 Now albeit the mishaps which dayly befel (Iean blanke their breaden God) should haue opened the eyes of these miserable idolaters, yet they shut them so much the more. The like may be said of their blindnesse and brutishnesse, simpli∣citie and sottishnesse, in not espying the knauery of the false Friers. For that which should haue discouered vnto them the villanie & filthines of these miscreants, did the more confirme them in the preiudicate opinion which they had of their holi∣nesse. I wil record for example that which happened in our own time at the death of that famous Franciscan De Cornibus: It is well knowne that this knaue died of the Neapolitan disease (otherwise termed the French poxe) the buttons or pimples whereof breaking forth and making him looke firy red, the people which saw him as he was caried to the graue (for they caried him in his habit or cowle with his face vncouered) were perswaded that this rednesse came frō hence, in that he was become a Seraphin. Sure I am that the death of a gentlewoman, who died of the stinke of the feete of this venerable pockie villaine, which she had kissed after his death (being vnacquainted with such strong sauours) was so interpreted, that it did in like sort confirme men in the opinion which they had of his holinesse. And those (doubtlesse) who made no more of the rednesse of his French poxe but the rednesse of a Seraphin, (such was their simplicitie) if they had taken him in the fact by which he got them, would haue perswaded themselues that they had seene some other thing then in truth they saw, or (as the Latine Poet speaketh) would haue made their eyes beleeue they had seen something which they saw not. Much

like that good fellow, who perceiuing two other feete by his maisters feete (who to the end he might strictly obserue the Bishops rules, had his pretie wench lying by his side) went so simply to worke, that he cried out at the window, Come sirs, and you shall see my master who hath foure feet. See here how all Christendome in stead of proceeding and going forward in the knowledge of these abuses, went backward through the iust iudgement of God.

4 Neuerthelesse this great blindnesse was neuer so vniuersall, but that there were some in all ages that did discouer part of their trumperies, and perceiue the wicked course of life which these Church-men led. S. Bernard also (as hath bene said) inueyed stoutly against it. And (as I remember) a certaine passage taken out of a booke written by Gulielmus de sancto amore, hath bene alleadged for this pur∣pose. And at the same time (namely about the yeare 1260.) one Nicholas Gallique borne in Narbonne, generall of the order of the Carmelites, being no longer able to endure the wicked life of his fellow Friers, did not onely forsake them and vtterly renounce their order, but also writ a booke against them, called the fiery dart; wherein he tels them (to omit other particulars) that they were reprobates, citi∣zens of Sodome, contemners of the holy Testament, seducers of those that then li∣ued, and of those which should come after, the taile of the Dragon mentioned in the Reuelation. As for the bookes of the foresaid Gulielmus de sancto Amore, Pope Alexander the fourth did what he could to abolish them, and that by expresse e∣dicts and commandements: who also (as Platina recordeth) burned a book which the begging Friers had published, wherein they taught that the state of grace did not proceed from the law of the Gospell (as they speake) but from the law of the spirit: which he burned, not for any great conscience he had to see the simple world so abused, but for feare lest this so absurd and impudent a lie should be a meanes to discouer their other villanies. This booke was called the eternall Gospell, or the Gospell of the spirit; gathered out of the doctrine of Ioachim the Abbot, and the vi∣sions of a Carmelite Frier called Cyril, by the Iacobins and Franciscans, who labou∣red by the authoritie thereof to make their parts good against the Waldenses (other∣wise called the poore men of Lyons) and other their aduersaries which armed them∣selues against them with the sword of the spirit, the word of God. Of this booke the foresaid Gulielmus de sancto Amore writeth as followeth. This accursed Gospel is already published in the Church, and therefore the destruction of the Church is to be feared. If this Gospell be compared with the Gospell of Christ (say they) it is so much more perfect and excellent then it, by how much the Sunne is brigh∣ter then the Moone, and the kernell better then the shell, &c. Moreouer, he men∣tioneth other like detestable sayings there recorded. And of these two cōparisons honorable mention is made in the Rōmant of the Rose, where the author speaketh in detestation of this booke, and censureth the hypocrisie of the begging Friers who published it.

Vous ne cognoistrez point aux robbes Les faux traistres tous pleins de lobbes: Parquoi leurs faits faut regarder, Si d'eux bien vous voulez garder.

That is,

For thou shalt neuer for nothing Con knowen aright by her clothing The traitors full of trechery, But thou her werkes can espie.

And a little after,

Fut or baillé (c'est chose voire) Pour bailler commun exemplaire, Vn liure de par le grand diable, Dit, L'Euangile perdurable, Dont le sainct Esprit fut ministre: Si comme il apparut au titre, Ainsi est-i•• intitulé. Bien est digne d'estre brulé. A Paris n'eust homme ne femme Au paruis deuant nostre-Dame Qu•• lors bien auoir ne le peust, Pour le doubler, si bien luy pleust. Là trouuast par grans mesprisons Maintes telles comparaisons. Autant que par sa grand chaleur, Soit de clarté, soit de valeur, Surmonte le Soleil la Lune, Qui trop est plus trouble, & plus brune: Et le noyau des noix, la coque: (Ne cuidez pas que ie vous moque: Cela di sans bourde ne quille) Tant surmonte cest Euangile Ceux que les quatr▪ Euangelistes Du Fils Dieu firent à leurs titres. De tels comparaisons grand masse Là trouuoit on, que ie trespasse.

That is,

They broughten a booke with sory grace, To yeuen example in common place, That said thus, (though it were fable) This is the Gospell perdurable, That fro the holy Ghost is sent: Well were it worth to ben brent. Intitled was in such manere This booke which I tell here, There was no wight in all Paris Beforne our Lady at paruis, That they ne might the booke buy, The sentence pleased hem well truly, There might he see by great treasoun, Full many a false comparisoun. As much as through his great might, Be it of heate or of light The Sunne surmounteth the Moone That troubler is, and changeth soone: And the nut kirnell the shell (I scorne nat that I you tell:) Right so withouten any guile,

Surmounteth this noble Euangile The word of any Euangelist, And to her title they token Christ. And many such comparisoun, Of which I make no mentioun, Might men in that booke find, Who so coud of hem haue mind.

The same Poet makes further mention of the bookes which Gulielmus de sancto A∣more writ against the fained pouertie of the begging Friers. For hauing after a long and large discourse shewed what sort of begging Friers were to be tollerated, and what not; and hauing alleadged the Sermons of the said S. Amore for confirmation of his assertion, he addeth in the person of False semblance,

Qui groncer en voudra, si gronce, Et courroucer, si s'en courrouce. Car ie n'en mentiroye mie, Si ie denoye perdre la vie: Ou estre mis contre droiture, Comme Sainct Paul en chartre obscure: Ou estre banni du Royaume A tort, comme maistre Guillaume De sainct Amour, qu'hipocrisie Fit exiler par grand' enuie. Ma mere en exil le chassa. Le vaillant homme tant brassa Pour verité qu'il sustenoit. Vers ma mere trop desprenoit, Pource qu'il fit vn nouueau liure Où sa vie fit tout' escrire: Et vouloit que ie reniasse Mendicité, & labourasse, Si ie n'auoye de quoy viure. Bien me pouuoit tenir pour yure. Car labourer ne me peut plaire: D'aucun labeur n'ai-ie que faire: Trop y a peine à labourer. Mieux vaut deuant les gens orer, Et affubler ma renardie Du mantel de papelardie. A. O fol diable quel est ton dit, Et ce que tu as ici dit? F. Quoy? A. Grans desloyautes apertes. Ne crain-tu donc pas Dieu? F. Non certes. Car à peine peut homme atteindre Chose grande, qui Dieu veut craindre.

That is,

Be wroth or blithe, who so be, For I woll speake and tell it thee, All should I die, and be put downe, As was Saint Poul in darke prisoun,

Or be exiled in this caas With wrong as master William was, That my mother hypocrisie Banished for great enuie. My mother flemed him Saint Amour, This noble did such labour To sustaine euer the loyalte, That he to much agylt me. He made a booke and let it write, Wherein his life he did all write, And would each renyed begging, And liue by my trauelling, If I ne had rent, ne other good, What weeneth he that I were wood? For labour might me neuer please, I haue more will to ben at ease, And haue well leuer (sooth to say) Before the people patter and pray: And wry me in my foxery, Vnder a cope of papelardy. (Quoth Loue) What diuell is this that I heare? What words tellest thou me here? What sir Falsenesse that apert is, Than dreadest thou not God? No certis. For seld in great things shall he speed, In this world that God would dreed.

These places I haue here alleadged for three causes. First, that the Reader might better perceiue what is meant by this counterfaite gospell, as being a thing verie memorable; albeit I omitted it in my former discourse. Secondly, that the con∣tents of those bookes written by William de sancto Amore (which were afterwards burnt by Pope Alexander the fourth) might the better be knowne. Thirdly, to giue the Reader to vnderstand that his bookes were not onely burned, but him∣selfe also banished France for speaking the truth. Notwithstanding, here we haue to note, that if he, who was onely banished about the yeare 1260. had but liued three hundred yeares after, he should not haue scaped so scot free? for they would haue set him to haue disputed with fire and fagot, as they did infinite others with∣in these fiftie yeares. As for the history which I said was very memorable, I find it to be so, for this reason: in that by comparing that age with ours, we see the great subtilty and craft of the diuell. For he hath dealt (me thinkes) in this case, (I meane in bringing this false gospell into credit) as Princes many times do with their sub∣iects, who when they see they cannot endure to heare of taxes, subsidies, or im∣posts, vse the word borrowing: which in the end commeth all to one reckoning: as Solon the ancient lawgiuer made that to passe for currant vnder the name of Si∣sachthia which vnder his owne ancient name was thought too rigorous. The like pollicy hath the diuell vsed in tampering with this his execrable gospell. For per∣ceiuing that the name progresse, and proceeding of the eternall Gospell (in such sort as hath bene said) displeased all men; he knew well how by changing the name, to retaine the doctrine: so that he is come to the point and period which he first pro∣pounded to himselfe. And that it is (gentle Reader) euen as I say, if euer thou hast

read the holy Gospell, consider whether it were not high time for the diuell to confront it with another of his owne forgery (though vnder another name:) to bring in that which the Popes creatures call the seruice of God, consisting of such a number of pompous, glorious, glittering shewes and tricks of conueyance, that the greatest Doctor of them all, should should haue worke enough (thoug he took three daies respite) to reckon vp onely their bare names: and yet peraduenture in the end might come short of his reckoning. For let vs consider a litle, what a long tayle of absurdities this one word Merits draweth after it, being flat contrary to the doctrine of the Gospell.) First, touching the diuers sorts of them, and then the matter of euery sort. For there is (as we know) meritum congrui, digni, condigni, or rather de congruo, digno, condigno, &c. And as for those which they cal good works, affirming them to be the substance of merits; we know that there are simple good works, & works of supererogation: besides sundry others which I cānot stād vpon. But wherein (may we thinke) do these good workes consist? Verily in all manner of deuotions and good intentions, by which the Clergie might haue wherewith to fill their panch, in ••inging, singing, quaue••ing, mumbling, g••umbling, pattering a million of Masses, great, litle, hie and low: Masses with a sop of wine, and dry Masses: Item, Masses for quicke and dead, (called Masses de Requiem,) Masses of our Lady of Pitie, our Lady of Vertues, our Lady of good Newes, our Lady of all Beauties, &c. Masses of Saint Sebastian, Masses of Saint G••degran, of Saint Guerli∣chou, of Saint Aliuergo, of Saint Andoch; also Masses of all men and women Saints, men and women Confessors (if there be any such,) men and women Martyrs. To be short, Masses in the name of the eleuen thousand virgines. And yet this is not al: for there are Masses for Fraternities▪ Masses for hunters: Masses for w••rriers: Mas∣ses for Deacons and Subdeacons, and for them that are neither: with a rabble of others which I cannot remember. * 1.16 After, if we come to the tooles of one onely Masse, as the Albe, the Stole, the Girdle, the M••niple, the * 1.17 Amict, the Cope, or Chasyble, &c. The Platine (or Patine) the Pixe, the Censour; (I speake not of the host, because it is not included within the number of the Massing tooles. For, for it alone the stage is erected, and for it all this pageant or rather tragedy is plaied. As for their apish tricks, friskes and gambols, we haue touched them before in a word or two: as also the miraculously subtill and more then Pythagoricall secrets, which lie hid aswell vnder the said turning tricks, as vnder the tooles and trinkets of the Masse. Consider now (good Reader) a litle with thy selfe, out of what Gospell all this geare is taken, and what scripture they follow, who mixe spittl••, salt, oyle, and such like stuffe (smelling so stinking strong of their sorcery) with the holy Sacra∣ment of Baptisme. Consider further, how exceedingly it ought to mou•• and asto∣nish him, who by the mercy of God hath bene trained vp in the doctrine of the Gospel: when conuersing with those that make profession of the same religion: he shall heare not onely of the former riffe-raffe ceremonies (yea wicked and dange∣rous:) but of an infinite number of others also, as of suffrags of the Saints, of Ima∣ges, of Reliques, of Lights, of the Popes pardons or Indulgences, of Buls, of My∣ters, of Croziers staues, of Vowes, of Shauings, of Confessions, of Absolutions, of Extreame vnctions, and of that so famous renowmed missificall Purgatorie, with all the appurtenances thereunto belonging. Verily, if he stand in a maze and mam∣mering, to heare such gibbridge, and more to see all this mummery acted vpon the stage, I blame him not. But when he shall reade this story, touching this Infer∣nall (called the Eternall Gospel) and shall consider with himselfe, how subtill and crafty the diuel is, he shal haue no great cause to wonder at the matter. For dobut∣lesse,

the diuel hath kept this damnable book in store (changing onely the name) to the end that as there is one Christ, and one Antichrist▪ so there might be one Gospel, and one Antigospell, as I may so speake. Neither hath he vsed this craft and subtelty onely in changing the name, but as we haue seene in some cities, when the cōmon stewes haue bene burnt, the ashes thereof haue flowne abroad into al quarters and corners therof, so that though there remained no more stewes in name, yet indeed and truth, greater then eue•• before: so he (after that this detestable booke was bur∣ned) scattered the ashes thereof among all the bookes which haue bene published since by his slaues and complices; whereof the Decretals haue had their part, the Sūmes also theirs, the Legends & Martyrologies theirs; the Questionall, Distinctionall, Quodlibeticall bookes, Mandestons, Tartares, Breuiaries, M••ssalles, and Houres, theirs. Neither herewith content, hath further foisted in other wicked works and writings shrowded vnder the name of the Gospell, as hath bene said. This (gentle Reader) will suffice (I hope) to put thee in minde of the Infernall (otherwise called the Eternall) Gospell, when and as often as thou shalt heare any question moued touching Popish doctrine. And verily (that I may say the same thing againe and againe) seeing men haue endured a Counterchrist, it is no wonder if they suffer a Counter-Gospell.

5 But to returne to prosecute my former argument and to shew how in all ages some abuses haue bene discouered: doubtlesse, if they who haue obserued them, would haue aduertised posteritie of them, we should haue had a number of such aduertisements at this day: but some (God knowes) were so simple that they could not commit such things to writing; others, though sufficiently well qualifi∣ed, yet had not the heart to do it. Notwithstāding there are certain books come euē to these times, (much more anciēt then those I haue so often mentioned) in which are sundry inuectiues against the Pope, aswel in regard of his life as of his doctrine. But (me thinks) it fareth now with Christian religion as it did somtime with Arts and sciences: for as the liberall arts flourished not so in the age last past, as they did certaine hundred yeares before, and as they haue done since: so the ignorance of Christian religion was more grosse and palpable in the last Centenarie then in the dayes of our grandfathers (at least of our great grandfathers,) and then it was euer since.

6 But here is yet a further point to be noted cōcerning the Age last past (to say nothing of such as proclaimed open warre and hostilitie against the abuses and wicked liues of the Pope and his creatures, as Wicliffe, Iohn Hus, Ierome of Prage, &c.) how that many haue encountred our good Catholickes of the Romish reli∣gion, who made no great shew of hostilitie against them. For who would haue thought that Petrarch would haue so inueyed against the holy citie, Già Roma, hor Babilonia falsa e ria? which we find in one of his sonnets (among other his Poems) containing onely a description of the inordinate and dissolute life of the Court of Rome. Nay he goeth further in diuers of his Latin Epistles, saying that Christ is banished thence, that Antichrist is Lord and maister there, and Beelzebub the Iudge: That vnder the standard of Christ, they make warre against Christ: That greater villany is there done to him, thē euer the Pharisies did him: That the hope of eternall life is holden for a very fable: That the more a man is infected and euen plunged ouer head and eares in wickednesse, the more he is esteemed and honou∣red. And as for couetousnesse, there (saith he) for gold heauen is set wide open, and for gold, euen Christ himselfe is sold. Item, if Iudas come thither, and bring with him his thirtie peeces of siluer (the price of innocent bloud) he shall be ad∣mitted,

and Christ shut out of doores. And as for Truth, There (saith he) truth is holden for folly. And in another place, I will not speake of truth: for how can truth haue any lodging or abode there, where all is taken vp with falshood and lies? the aire, the earth, places, houses, towers, &c.

7 Sometimes also our Catholicke chickens were so vnmannerly as to cen∣sure their holy mother for false doctrine. For we reade that the Vniuersitie of Paris openly condemned an article in one of the bulles of Clement the sixt, tou∣ching the yeare of Iubily, wherein he granted to all that had receiued the Croy∣sado, full power to deliuer three or foure such soules out of Purgatory as them∣selues thought good. Howbeit the Vniuersity censured not the mandate and com∣mandement which in another bull he gaue to the Angels of Paradise: the words whereof I will here set downe.

If any man be minded to come to the holy Citie, we giue him free libertie from the day of his egresse, to chuse one or moe confes∣sors, as well in his iourney as elsewhere, to whom by authoritie committed vnto vs, we giue full power to absolue him in all matters reserued to our selfe, as well as if we were there personally present. And further, we grant to him that hath truly confessed (if he die by the way) free pardon and remission of all his sinnes, and do cleerly quit and absolue him of the same. And we further commaund all the Angels of Paradise, that they bring the soule of such a man into the glo∣rious Imperiall heauen, quite exempting him from the paines of purgato∣rie, &c.

8 Besides, we haue certaine prouerbes which haue bene currant time out of mind, which are pregnant proofes that the Cleargies credit was euen then crackt, and their reputation much eclipsed. For in our old and auncient prouerbs (which censure the vices and misdemeanours of men onely in generall) the Church is e∣uer the ringleader of the dance, as in this which hath bene alleadged in the former part of this discourse:

Trou choses sont tout d'vn accord, L'Eglise, la Cour, & la Mort. L'Eglise prend du vif, du mort: La Cour du droit, &c.

That is,

There be things three do well agree, The Church, the Court, and destinie, For none will ought to other leaue: The Church from liue and dead doth reaue. The Court takes both the right and wrong, And death takes both the weake and strong.

And likewise in this:

L'Eglise fait la teneur sans droiture, Noblesse tient la contre sans mesure: Labeur ne peut à la taille fournir, Si le dessus ne vient à soustenir.

That is,

The Cleargie falsly sings the Tenors straine, The Peeres ylike the Countertenor sing: The Commons toyle the Tenors n'ote sustaine, Vnlesse the Countertenor ayd do bring.

As also in this prouerbe (for I hope I may be bold to giue this name to the com∣mon

sayings which are or haue bene currant in euery mans mouth, though it pro∣perly signifie short and compendious pithy sentences)

Depuis que Decrets eurent ailes, Et que les dez vindrent sur tables, Gend'armes porterent des males, Moines allerent à cheual, Au monde n'y a eu que mal.

That is,

Since that Decrees had wings ygot, And dice vpon the boord were brought, Sin••e Monkes did faire on horseback trot, And souldiers were with mailes yfraught, The world hath bene too bad for naught.

In stead whereof Menot saith, Since Church-men wore great veluet coates. There are also other prouerbes which taxe and censure their couetousnesse in particular, one of which (taken out of Barelete) we mentioned in the former chapter, viz. that Priests, Monkes and the Sea are neuer satisfied. And of this number is that which we formerly alleadged, The Church taketh both of quicke and dead. But we may not for∣get in the history of the Curate (of whō we spake in the same chapter) that phrase which is vsed in way of a prouerbe, to signifie a thing which neuer was, and neuer should be: When Curates will take no moe offrings: which when stood a certaine bon companion in good stead, who writ long since in a certaine pamphlet which he published, a prognostication of a good time. For he saith, that the good time shall be when women do whatsoeuer their husbands will haue them, without gainsay∣ing. When drunkards shall hate wine. When seruants shall be loyall and faithfull. When maids of fifteene yeares shall refuse to marry. When bakers shall giue away their bread, and vintners their wine for Gods sake. When a Picard shall leaue his lying: a Normand his flattering: a rich Frenchman his haughtinesse: and a German his beastlinesse. When Lawyers cease to make fiue or sixe suites of one. When France shall be rid of iealous persons, cuckolds and flatterers. Among the rest this when is one (of which I haue spoken) and this other which I may not here omit:

Quand vous verrez que les curez Defendront d'aller à l'offrande, Et porter escus, & deniers, Voire sur peine de l'amende: Et d'autre part, mais que l'on pende Tous larrons priuez & estranges, Bon temps verrez (quoi qu'il attende) Accourir au trauers des fanges.

That is,

When those good sirs that serue the Parish cure Forbid repairing to their offering, And charge that no man crownes or pence shall bring, Vpon the paine of some deepe forfaiture: And when all theeues forraine or neighbring nigh On lofty gallow-trees shal hang on high, Then shal you see (ô who so long can 〈◊〉〈◊〉?) The good dayes coming of the blessed tide.

There are also auncient prouerbes which taxe the whoredome and drunkennesse of the Popish Cleargie, as also the place where the Popes Holinesse makes his a∣bode: of which number this is one,

Iamais ni cheual, ni homme, N'amenda d'aller à Romme.

That is,

Nor horse nor man ere turned home Ought betterd by the sight of Rome.

Neither are there onely prouerbiall sentences, but sundry songs and sonnets also, made by our predecessors against the Popes Scuruinesse, one of which begin∣neth thus:

Le Pape qui est à Romme, Boit du vin comm' vn autre homme, Et de l'ypocras aussi.

That is,

His Holinesse that at Rome doth wonne, Drinkes wine full well, as his neighbours donne, And Ypocras as also.

This also is very auncient, and seemeth to haue bene borrowed from the words of Christ.

Loups rauissans & faux prophetes, Portent habits de brebiettes.

That is,

False Prophets and ranke wolues for need, Can weare the sheepe or shepheards weed.

For it was taken (if I be not mistaken) out of the words of Christ. Mat. 7. Beware of false Prophets which come to you in sheepes clothing, but inwardly are rauening wolues. Which I do the rather thinke, because it hath bene vsed against the Fryers in particular (and namely against the Mendicants, but especially against the Fran∣ciscans) who long since (as we know) were gibed and gested at, being called dissē∣blers, bald shauelings, makers of apes faces, and chatemites, which is as much as counterfeiters of lambes. And whereas they are called rauening wolues, Saint Francis himselfe would (no doubt) haue granted it, at leastwise that they were wolues, considering he said to a wolfe (as we noted before) my Brother Wolfe. Fur∣ther, each of these 4. orders of mendicant Fryers hath had his proper praise and commendation apart, euen from our Ancestors dayes. For we say prouerbially; a Iacobin in the Pulpit, a Franciscan in the Quire, a Carmelite in the kitchen, and an Augustine in the stewes. Which notwithstanding ought well and warily to be vn∣derstood: not as though the Iacobins and Franciscans were not sufficient and able men to deale in the occupation of the Carmelites and Augustines: but for that (be∣sides their sufficiency,) they do it with farre better grace and dexteritie: some of them prating like Parots in the pulpit: and others roaring like buls in the Quire, lustily thundering out an Alleluiah. For it were plaine heresie to say that the Iaco∣bins and Franciscans were not as valiant champions of the god Bacchus as the Car∣melites, considering the dittie which was sung ten yeares (I take it) before my bel∣dam was borne:

Iacopins, Cordeliers, Carmes, En beuuant iettent des larmes, Disans, que c'est pour les ames, &c.

The Carmelite and Iacobine, And their brethren Cordeliers, When they haue tipled in the wine, Till it come out in teares: Say straight, that's for the soules, &c.

And that they are likewise Venus darlings, their actions (heretofore recorded) do sufficiently declare. This is the cause that makes me say, that it ought so to be vn∣derstood.

9 We reade also in certaine stories, of libels, which sundry sharpe Satyrists cast abroade against the Cleargie, in the last centenary and in the age before; as also of diuers ieasts and merry conceits which haue bene made of the sottish supersti∣tions of the Church of Rome: as namely of holy water (as they terme it) and Pur∣gatory, called S. Patricius his hole, and by the common people S. Patricks hole. As also of pardons or indulgences, and worshipping of Saints: in all which, those mer∣rie grigs who haue made collections of pleasant conceits, haue furnished vs with examples. True it is indeed, they mention some libels which do so gibe and ieast at Popish superstition, that they passe all meane and measure, and sauour of plaine Lucianisme. But leauing those of this straine, I will alleadge some of another note, which now come to my mind. First then I remember three merry ieasts, which were made of holy water: all of them of a fine conceit, and excellent good grace. The first is of one who being reproued for not vailing his bonnet when holy wa∣ter was cast vpon his head: answered, that if it had that vertue that it could pene∣trate euen to Purgatory, there was no doubt but it would easily go through his hat. The second is of later time, the author whereof was one Godon a Counsellor of the Court of Parliament in Paris, a man that had an excellent dexteritie in brea∣king of a ieast. This Godon being one day in place where it was debated before King Francis the first, what course were best for him to take to encounter the Em∣perour, who was comming (as it was reported) with a great army, and hearing one wish the King such a number of good Gascoignes; another such a number of Lansquenets, (euery man as he fancied:) Sir (quoth he) seeing we are all in our wishes, if it may stand with your Maiesties pleasure, I will wish my wish also, which shall be such a one as shall stand your Maiesty in no charge, whereas theirs will cost your coffers. The King hauing demaunded of him what it might be: Sir (quoth he) I would onely wish to be a diuell bu•• for one quarter of an houre. To what end? (quoth the king.) I would (quoth he) straight to the Emperour and breake his necke. Verily (quoth the king) thou art a very sot to say so, as though the Emperour had not store of holy water to driue away the diuel. Whereunto he replied, and said, Sir (if it please your highnesse to pardon me) I thinke well that a yong diuel which is not yet his crafts master would 〈◊〉〈◊〉 for feare of holy water; but a diuell which had bene Godon heretofore, would not flie for all the holy water his Holinesse can make. The third is later and of fresher memory, Lory the publicke notary being the author thereof, who when a certaine Cardinall made report of a woman possessed with a diuell, which by no meanes could be dispossessed: Why Sir (quoth he) it is an easie matter: giue her but a clyster of holy water, and the di∣uell will be gone I warrant you. There were also in old time many fine ieasts made of Purgatory, as being in very deed a meere ridiculous inuention. Two whereof (which now come to my mind) I will here set downe. When Pope Clement the 7. was besieged in his castle of S. Angelo, and certaine Prelates his friends with him, a gentleman of Rome said, he was euer perswaded that the Pope could deliuer

soules out of Purgatory; but seeing (quoth he) he cannot deliuer himselfe out of prison, I can much lesse thinke he should deliuer soules from thence. The second was made long since at Florence. A Florentine being importuned by the Francis∣cans of the place to haue certaine Masses said for the deliuering of his sonnes soule out of Purgatory, answered them in this sort; Well, go your wayes, and if you de∣liuer him by your Masses, I will giue you a crowne. The Friers had no sooner sung their Masses, but they returned to him againe, demaunding their crowne. The Flo∣rentine answered, You must first make it appeare vnto me that ye haue indeed de∣liuered him, before I part with my crowne. In the end (after they had a long time debated the matter and expostulated with him) they went to the Duke, humbly desiring his Highnesse that they might haue iustice. The Duke causing the partie to be sent for, asked him why he detained from them that which he had promised them. The man answered, that he promised them nothing but vpon condition, viz. that if it might appeare vnto him that they had deliuered his sonnes soule out of Purgatory, he would giue them a crowne. The Duke hearing this his answer, turned to the Friers, and said, There is great reason for it, and therefore see you make the soule which you haue deliuered, to come vnto me, and testifie it owne deliuerance, or send me two other soules to witnesse the same: or let it send me a word or two in writing, subscribed with Christs owne hand, and then I will see you shall haue the mony payd you. Another in France did the like. For certain Priests hauing asked money of him for the Masses by which they had deliuered a soule out of Purgatory, he demaunded of them, whether soules once let loose and freed from the paines of Purgatory, were in danger to returne back againe or not? They answering, that they were not: Why then (quoth he) it were folly to giue you money for this which is already deliuered and in safetie: it is more wisdome to keepe it for some other, which haply may be detained there hereafter. An Ita∣lian likewise spake as wittily and with as good a grace, when he told the Popes le∣gate at Venice, that if his Holinesse had bene wel aduised, he would neuer haue said that he could deliuer soules out of Purgatory; but that he could deliuer them out of hell. For as for Purgatory (said he) there remaine two things to be proued: first, that there is such a place: secondly, that he deliuereth soules from thence: whereas all men beleeue that there is a hell: so that there remaineth nothing to be proued, but that he deliuereth soules from thence.

10 As for worshipping of Saints, it appeareth by certaine ancient Prouerbs, that some demeaned themselues more discreetly therein then others. For example This prouerbe, There is no miracle comparable to that which is wrought by an old Saint, could not arise but from those which were of opinion, that they ought ra∣ther to go to old experienced Saints then to yong princocks and nouices, which were but late vpstarts. For these they secretly condēned, at leastwise shewed they were to be suspected. But here is yet a further thing to be noted, viz. that our ance∣stors neuer made so great account of their Saints, but that they would both ring them a peale by threatning them, and grinne at them (like a dog at a pitch-forke) when they thought they wronged them: wherein they shewed themselues more bold then their successors. Witnesse the Florentine who said to the image of Saint Iohn Baptist, The plague of God light on thee, thou hast alwaies had a foule slan∣derous tongue, and therefore Herod cut off thy head: The occasiō of which speech hath bin before remēbred, where I haue also set downe the Italian words wherein it was deliuered. And in the same booke out of which I tooke that story, (intituled Piaceuoleze del piouano Ar lotto) this is recorded which here followeth, being in

effect all one with the former. There was a cooke of Florence who was accusto∣med to come and say his praiers, and to offer candles to the image of a yong Christ (being about the age that he was of when his mother found him in the Tēple di∣sputing with the Doctors) and had continued in his fauour for the space of twen∣ty yeares and more: after which time it happened that a tyle fell vpon his sonnes head, and hurt him so sore, that there was no hope he shold euer escape: which he had no sooner perceiued but he went to his yoūg Iesus, carying with him a goodly waxe taper (whereas he was wont to cary nothing but candles) and beganne to pray vnto him in this sort.

Dolce Signore mio Iesu Christo, io ti priego renda la sanita, &c. That is, O my sweet Lord Iesus, I beseech thee restore my sonne his health a∣gaine, whom I do so dearely loue. Thou knowest that I haue faithfully serued thee, aboue these twenty yeares, during which time I neuer requested the least fauour at thy hands, now therefore I am come to commend and commit my selfe and sute vnto thee, my sonne being in such danger of death, who is all my ioy & hope, my comfort and content: so that if he chance to die, I shall die shortly after for do∣lour and despaire; at leastwise haue regard to the deuotion which he alwaies bare thee aswell as my selfe. Hauing thus praied, he returned home againe, where he found his sonne dead. Whereupon he went the next morning, in great anger to his little Iesus, carying not so much as a candle with him, & neither kneeling down nor vailing his bonnet▪ beganne in this sort. I renounce thee and vtterly defie thee, and I promise thee truly I will neuer come neare thee, I haue faithfully serued thee aboue these twenty yeares, during which 〈◊〉〈◊〉 I neuer craued any thing at thy hands but this onely good turne, and thou hast denied me. If I had made this re∣quest to the great Crucifixe which standeth by me, I know he would haue granted it. I promise thee faithfully, I will beware so long as I liue, how I deale either with thee or any other stripling, for thy sake; and for conclusion of all, he added this Ita∣lian prouerbe, Chi S'impaccia con fanciulli, con fanciulli si ritroua.

Which story (be∣ing there set downe at large, specifying the Church and place where this cooke dwelt) serueth very fitly to exemplifie the foresaid prouerbe, with which that a∣greeth well which was spoken by a good fellow who prayed to one of our La∣dies, holding her young babe in her armes. For hauing receiued such an answer as pleased him not well, by one that stood behind the Image (as the Florentine who stood behind Iohn Baptists Image counterfaiting his voice) and iudging by the tone, that it was not the mother but the child which spake, said: Hold your peace you litle lick-dish, and let your mother speake who is wiser then you. But a Burgundian vttered farre fouler words against a young Crucifixe (sonne to an old Crucifix,) for hurting of him. The story is this. In Burgundy neare to a village cal∣led Chaseule, a country clowne going through a Church, enquired of the Ringers for whose soule they did ring. And he had no sooner learned his name, but he fell straight on his marrow-bones, and began to pa••••er ouer certaine prayers for his soule before a crucifixe standing neare the belfry: which in stead of giuing him a nod with his head, fell full vpon him and left him in such a pitifull plight, that the men were glad to leaue their ringing, to take him vp, and carry him in al hast home to his house, where he remained long time sicke and sore. Now after he was reco∣uered againe, returning to the Church, and seeing a goodly young smiling cruci∣fix in the same place; (for you must note by the way, that the old crucifix had bro∣ken his necke in falling vpon this poore paysant:) he could containe no lon∣ger, but beganne in this sort:

Cast as good a countenance towards me as thou wilt, I will neuer trust thee: for if thou liue till thou be a man, thou wilt be as vn∣happy

as euer thy father was, who wold haue killed me.

These 3. stories do suffici∣ently confirme the truth of that which hath bene said, viz. that our Ancestors made not so great accompt of their Saints, but that they would tell them their les∣son, and giere at them, when they perceiued they offered them any wrong: wherein they shewed themselues more couragious then many since their time; howbeit the boldnesse of my neighbours of Ville neuue S. George by Paris) was far greater. For they not contented to rate and reuile Saint George, because that vpon his feast day he suffered their vines to be nipped with the frost: but hauing spoken all the villany against him they could, they did him a worse turne by casting him into the riuer of Seyne, where he was frozen with their vines for company: their boldnesse being so much the greater, in that they durst encounter him who is Mars the great God of warre among the Saints.

11 Churchmen also were girded at in old time and flouted sundry waies, Monks and Fries especially; who were not onely branded with those goodly nick∣names before remembred (wherwith their hypocrisie was taxed & censured) but with sundry others also: some cēsuring their gluttony, others their lechery, others their stupidity. Among the rest, Laurence de Medicis was the man that knew how to do them the honour appertaining to their holinesse. For being asked by the Turks Ambassador, what should be the reason that there were not so many fooles to be seene in Florence, as in Caire and other cities of Aegypt? Answered, that they kept all their fooles fast locked vp, some in one place some in another, acccording to the diuersitie of their frenzies. And leading him out of Florence, he shewed him a number of Monasteries, and withall told him, that in those houses they shut vp all their fooles, both men and women, whom they called Monks and Nunnes. But his tale had bene much better told (in my conceipt) if he had said, that they suffered none but harmlesse fooles to range abrode in the streetes, and that they kept their hurtfull and knauish fooles within. But all that our Ancestors spake a∣gainst the Clergie is nothing, in comparison of that which was spoken against the Pope, I meane against his person and practise. For Pasquin girded at him long since, and that sundry wayes, giuing him such priuie nips and crosse blowes ouer the thumbs, that better iests cānot be inuented. Sundry poets also not long before our time spared not the Popes one iot, as namely Pontanus, Sannazarius, and o∣thers. But I will begin this discourse with the answer which a limmer made to a Cardinall, who though he had drawne S. Peter and S. Paul so liuely, that all which beheld them, approued the worke, yet was there a Cardinall who said he had es∣pied a fault in them, in that he had made them too high coloured: whereupon the limmer forthwith shaped him this answer: Sir (quoth he) this rednesse procee∣deth of shame; for they blush to see the life which you leade, in comparison of that which they led when they were on earth. Which answer of his agreeth very fitly with this Epigram made by a learned man yet liuing.

Semiuiros quicunque patres radiante galero Conspicis, & rubrae syrmata longa togae: Crede mihi, nullo saturatas murice vestes, Diuite nec cocco pallia tincta vides. Sed quae rubra vides, sanctorum cade virorum, Et mersa insonti tota cruore madent. Aut memor istorum, qua celet crimina vestis, Pro dominis iusto tacta pudore rube••.

And this putteth me in mind of the Preacher formerly mentioned, who beganne

and ended his Sermon with Fie Saint Peter▪ Fie Saint P••••l▪ I say he began and en∣ded therewith: for he spake neuer a word besides▪ though he often iterated them. But to returne to Pasquin (who hath so wel rubbed and curried the Pope:) by Pas∣quin, we are to vnderstand (which I speake for the ignorant sort) many excellent quicke wits, who hauing composed libelling verses in Latin or Italian▪ against any of the Popes, caused them to be fastened to an image called Pasquin. No maruell then if Pasquin hit them so often ouer the thumbes, and c••rried their cockscombs so well: seeing the inuentions of many excellent wits haue bin fathered vpon him. And yet I perswade my selfe he neuer did any thing with better grace, then when he said that he was ready to die for sorrow, in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 such an iniury had bene done him, as pierced him to the very heart. Whereupon when certain asked him, Friend Pasquin, what iniury hath bene done thee? hath any man called thee theefe, or murtherer, or poisoner? oh no (said he) but they haue called me worse. What? hath any man called thee sacrilegious person, or parricide, buggerer or atheist? oh no (said he) they haue called me worse. And after they had instanced in sundry other the greatest indignities they could imagine: alas (said he) you haue not yet recko∣ned it, neither do I think you wil euer ghesse what it is. In the end, hauing bene of∣ten requested to vtter his griefe, breathing out many sighes with Alas, alas, he said that they called him Pope. The same Pasquin declared also in a Latin Epigramme (which he made since) what conceit we should haue of the signification of this word Pope, in these verses,

Hic Carapha iacet; superis inuisus & imis: Styx animam, tellus putre cadauer habet. Inuidit pacem terris, dijs vota preces{que}: Impius & clerum perdidit & populum: Hostibus infensis supplex, insidus amicis. Scire cupis paucis caetera? Papa fuit.

Hereunto also well accordeth the common saying, A good Pope, a wicked man. And who so would know how the said Pasquin extolled the vertues of Popes, let him reade these verses:

Sixtum lenones, Iulium rexere cinoedi, Imperium vani scurra Leonis habes. Clementem furiae vexant, & auara cupido. Quae spes est regni Paule futura tui?

(Where I confesse he hath bene somewhat bold in vsing Poeticall licence in the quantitie of Iulium.) There are also certaine Epigrams which taxe the couetous∣nesse of some Popes in particular, as namely this which was written of Alex∣ander the sixt,

Vendit Alexander claues, altaria, Christum: Emerat ille priùs, vendere iure potest.

That is,

Christ, altars, keyes, doth Alexander sell, Why should he not? perdy they cost him well.

Mantuan also hath written to the like effect of the couetousnesse of Popes, albeit in generall:

Or voulez vous sauoir quelle trafique meine La marchande portant nom d'Eglise Romaine? Elle vend pour argent temples, prestres, autels, Couronnes, feux, encen••, messes, & ioyaux tels:

Et en son auarice elle est si sort extreme, Que vendre ell'ose bien le ciel, voire Dieu mesme.

That is,

Then would you know the trafficke and the wares Wherewith this Marchandisse (hight Rome) doth trade? For mony sels she Churches, Altars, Priests, Crownes, incense, fiers, and Masses: and what more? Yea so excessiue is her couetice: Of heauen and God himselfe she sets a price.

The same author hath likewise blazoned their other vertues in these verses:

Le sainct champ du Seigneur est plein de parasites, Et l'autel precieux ne sert qu'aux Sodomites: Brief, les temples à saincts vsages ordonnez Par ces Ganymedes bougrins sont profanez.

That is,

Gods holy field is full of Parasites, The precious altars swarme with Sodomites: The Churches that were made for holy deeds, Are soyled by these buggering Ganimedes.

And what hath Pontanus said of Alexander the sixth, in an Epitaph which he writ of his daughter?

Conditur hoc tumulo Lucretia nomine, sed re, Thais Pontificis filia, sponsa, Nurus.

Which Epitaph I finde turned into French by two: one of which hath turned it thus,

Ci gist le corps d'vne certaine dame De nom Lucrece, & d'effect (dont ie tremble) Du Pape fut ribaude tres-infame, Espouse, bru, & fille tout ensemble.

The other thus,

Ci dort qui fut de nom Lucrece, De faict Thais, putain de Grece, Qui iadis d'Alexandre fille Et femme fut & belle-fille.

That is,

Here lies Lucrece by name, Thais in life, The Popes child and spouse, and yet his owne sons wife.

The Poet Sannazarius also hath writtē an Epitaph of this Pope; where hauing de∣clared these and sundry other villanies, he saith for conclusion, And yet hath he bin Pope of Rome these eleuen yeares. Go now, and speake of Neroes, Caligulaes and villa∣nous Heliogabali. But enough of such stuffe (for I am ashamed to name the rest:) yet what (I beseech you is the commendation of Boniface in this Epitaph: Intra∣uit vt vulpes, regnauit vt Leo, mortuus est vt canis: that is, he entred like a foxe, raig∣ned like a lion, and died like a dog? And to the end we may see how that they which could not write to their commendation in good Latin, haue written in as good as they could, rather then they would be silent and say nothing: I wil here set downe the Epitaph of Benedict the twelfth,

Iste fuit verò Laicis mors, vipera Clero, Deuius à vero, * 1.18 turba repleta mero.

Neither did they write all these goodly Epitaphs of the Popes onely; for some haue also blazoned the vertues of their Cardinals, Bishops, and other Prelates: a∣mongst which this hath an excellent grace which was written against a Popish Bi∣shop, sometime a Franciscan.

Nudipes Antistes, non curat Clerus vbi stes: Dum non in coelis, stes vbicunque velis.

But (to hold me onely to the Popes) the meanes which they vsed to auoide the creating of a she Pope (as once it happened) in stead of a he Pope, hath bene ex∣ceedingly derided of old. And hereof Iohannes Pannonius hath made an Epi∣gram, (wherein he rightly blazoneth their trumpery) which I haue thus turned into French,

Nul ne pouuoit iouïr de sainctes clefs de Romme, Sans monstrer qu'il auoit les marques de vray homme: D'où vient donc qu'à present ceste pre••••e est cessée Et qu'on n'a plus besoin de la chaire percée? C'est pource que ceux▪ la qui ores les clefs ont, Par les enfans qu'ils font, monstrent bien ce qu'ils sont.

That is,

Of old times, none Romes holy keyes did ••eare, But by some markes had first his manhood showne: How comes this triall out of date whilere? Nor needs no chaire to make his secret knowne? For that who euer now the keyes haue borne, Haue by their bastards prou'd their sexe beforne.

And as for Popish lawes and constitutions, we find that our auncestors opposed themselues against them to the vttermost of their power: and forbare not to crie out mightily against the Cleargie for not abolishing them: but principally against the forbidding of Priests mariages. Against which we find these verses in the first place simply and plainly made.

O b••n•• Calixte, nunc omnis Clerus odit te. Olim Presbyteri poterant vxoribus vti: Hoc destruxisti tu, quando Papa fuisti. Ergo tuum Festum nunquam celebratur honestum.

And others (after them) beginning thus,

Prisciani regula penitus cassatur: Sacerdos per hic & haec olim declinatur. Sed per Hic solùm nunc articulatur: Quum per nostrum praesulem Haec amoueatur.

And a little after,

Non est Innocentius, immò nocens ve••è, Qui quod facto docuit, verbo vult delere. Et quod olim iu••enis voluit habere, Modò vetus Pontifex studet prohibere. Gignere, &c.

Mantuan likewise condemneth this Popish decree, where he saith,

N'eust-il pas mieux valu suiure la droite voye, Par où la Loy de Dieu nous meine & nous conuoye, En ensuiuant les pa•• des nos anciens peres, Desquels la vie estoit chaste & sans vituperes,

Quand ils se contentoyent d'auoir chacun sa femme? Helas, & qu'est-ce au pris du celibat infame, Que maintenir on veut contre Dieu & nature, Si non impieté pleine de forfaiture?

That is,

Were it not better follow that right path, Wherein Gods royall law doth vs conduct, Pressing the footsteps of our auncestors, Whose life was chast and void of rightfull blame, When each man was with his owne wife content? Alas, what's this to that infamous life, Which singly they 'gainst God and nature leade, Full of leud thoughts and many a beastly deed?

Neither was there so much as Master Allin Charretier, but cryed out against this Canon or constitutiō. For (as Iohn Maire witnesseth in his book called the Exile) he writ against it as followeth: There was long since a new Canon confirmed in the West Church, seuering the order of holy Matrimony from the dignitie of Priesthood, vnder the colour of puritie and Chastity: but now contrarily runneth the Canon of Concubinage, with entisements to worldly pompe and dignities, to sensuall and fleshly sinnes; and (which is more) the Cleargie is growen extreme∣ly and vnconscionably couetous, &c. A litle after; What hath the constitution of forbidding priests mariages brought with it, but the changing of lawfull genera∣tion into adultery and fornication? and the honest cohabitation with one onely spouse, into multiplication of harlots and liuing in hot and burning lust? And if I should say all that I thinke, I would say, &c.

12 But a wonder it is, that our auncestors should not perceiue the villanies of that purple whore, the scarlet strumpet (which calleth her selfe The holy Ca∣tholicke Church) seeing she neuer cloaked nor concealed them in the least man∣ner, but set them to the open view to all that would behold them: as namely in the case of forbidding Priests mariages. For though Pope Hildebrand made it a Canō and constitution of the Church, yet some of his successors (as stories report) haue bene so farre from keeping it, that they made no conscience to marry their owne daughters: witnesse the Epitaph of Alexander the sixt, made by Pontanus: wit∣nesse also the stories which haue bene written of his life. For herein I suppose he followed the example of his predecessors, not to speake of those whom historians (who haue written of the liues of Popes) haue seuerely censured. And as he was emboldened to commit incest with his owne daughter, by the example of his pre∣decessors: so by his example was Pope Paulus the third heartened to do the like. For he entertained his daughter Constantia, and perceiuing that he could not haue her at his whistle, & enioy her company so conueniently as formerly he had done (considering she was maried to a Duke called Sforza,) he poisoned her. I omit to speake how kindly he entertained his sister, because this incest is not altogether so vnnaturall and brutish as the former. And whereas he poysoned her also, because he saw that she tooke not so great pleasure in him as in others, it is lesse then no∣thing, considering the vnconscionable largenesse of Popes consciences: witnesse Hildebrand who poisoned seuen or eight Popes, that he might come to the Pope∣dome. And which is more remarkable, after they had vsed their daughters or si∣sters as whores (as Iohn the thirteenth did,) or other their kinswomen (as others haue done) they maried them to Princes; as it is reported, that the forenamed

Alexanders Lucretia (I meane Lucretia who was his daughter, his daughter in law and his whore, that is, with whom he lay, (notwithstanding she was his owne daughter) and his sonne also, who was her owne brother) was maried to three Princes successiuely: first, to Duke Iohn Sforce: next (he being diuorced from her) to Lewes bastard son to Alphonsus king of Arragon: & lastly to Alphonsus d'Est Duke of F••rrara. And yet these holy men (who haue forbidden others lawfull mariage) not content to vse the liberty which Iupiter vsed in such incestuous mariages, wold needs after his example haue their Ganimedes also. True it is, that some of them haue had great Ganimedes, and others lesse. So that when Mantuan speaketh here∣of in his verses which formerly I alleadged, I cannot well tell which of them he meaneth: but sure I am that the Ganimede of Pope Iohn Maria de monte, called Iu∣lius the third, was in stature & feature like vnto Iupiter, somewhat resembling him in the proportion and lineaments of his face, as Poets haue described him; which thing I speake the rather, because my selfe saw and aduisedly beheld him, especi∣ally at once when he sate at table with his Iupiter. But these earthly Iupiterizing gods (those I meane that tread in the steps of Iupiter) may not haue it layd in their dish for dispencing with themselues in such a point, for which they wold dispence with others also, rather then for mariage. For I perswade my selfe, if priests after they were forbidden mariage, had with common consent exhibited a petition to their Holinesse, (holding the supplication in one hand, and a bribe in the other) that they might haue recourse to the male sexe seeing they would not suffer them to vse the female, they would neuer haue denied them. And that which more confirmeth me in this opiniō, it, for that we reade in the life of Pope Sixtus the 4. how he granted libertie to the whole family of the Cardinall of S. Luce to vse car∣nall company with the male sexe, during the three hotest moneths. As also that which we reade in the life of Pope Alexander the sixt, how he permitted one Peter Mendozze a Spaniard and Cardinall of Valencia, to make a Ganimede of his bastard sonne the Marquesse of Zannet.

13 Now besides that these deuout Churchmen committed their villanies o∣penly in the view of all men, as appeareth by that which hath bene already said, and by sundry other places of this booke; it is further to be obserued that they make but a mocke at sundry things, which notwithstanding they cause the poore people (silly soules) to hold and beleeue as articles of their faith. For when Pope Leo the tenth was told by his Confessor that he needed to feare nothing, conside∣ring he had the keyes of heauen, and of the treasury of the Church, consisting of the merits of Christ and of the Saints: he answered in this sort: Thou knowest that he which hath sold a thing, hath no longer right nor int••rest therein; there∣fore seeing I haue sold heauen and all to others, I haue nothing to do there. The same Pope being reproued by certaine Cardinals for his le••d life, as being excee∣dingly changed since he was created Pope, answered: If I be wicked, you are the cause thereof; for you haue made me such a one as I am. They wondering at this answer, and demaunding of him what he meant thereby: Because (quoth he) you haue made me Pope; for it is not possible to be both a Pope and an honest man. Nay they go yet a step further, in prophaning those things which they wold haue the world beleeue were holy and sacred: as when Pope Iulius the second cast his Saint Peters keyes into Tyber, and took Saint Pauls sword, saying, Saint Peters keyes would stand him in no stead for the warres, whereas Saint Pauls sword would help him well. Yet all this is nothing in comparison of that which Pope Gregory the se∣uenth (called Hildebrand) did; who when his consecrated host (which the Popes

creatures call the blessed sacrament of the Altar, and the body of Christ) answered him not to his demands, being angry thereat, cast it into the fire in the presence of many Cardinals, who could not stay him from burning of his breaden God. The truth of which story might well be doubted of, if the person from whom it origi∣nally proceeded, were any way to be suspected: but the author thereof is Cardinal Benno, who further addeth, that Iohn Bishop of Port (Secretary to Hildebrand, and very inward with him) affirmed in a Sermon which he made in S. Peters Church in the audience of a multitude of people, concerning the profanatiō of the blessed Sacrament of the Altar:) Hildebrand (quoth he) & we with him, haue done such a fact, for which we deserue to be burned quicke; & he that wil not credit this Cardi∣nals report, may find it confirmed by other testimonies. For my part I see nothing in this fact of Hildebrand, which is not more then probable. For if we reade his life, we shall find that he hath profaned his religion after another manner: I say that he hath profaned his religion: for according to true religion, the said consecrated host might haue bene cast into the fire without any prophanation at all; namely as a peece of paste, and in the same nature that it is of when it descendeth into the bel∣lies not onely of men, but also of beasts, & after into that place which for modesty I may not name. But some may here haply say, that it is no wonder if Hildebrand dealt in that sort with the sacramentall host, considering he was a Necromancer, as in his life is discoursed at large: notwithstanding I perswade my selfe, that if he had asked counsell of him in whose schoole he learned the blacke Art, he would neuer haue aduised him so: which I do the rather thinke, for that the grand Negro of all Necromancers (who is also the great Sorbonist of Sorcerers, and maister of Magicians) will in no wise hurt this god of paste, but very friendly and louingly a∣grees with him. For proofe hereof, in the yeare 1538. there were certaine priests burnt in Sauoy for inchantments and sorcery, one of which was burnt at Rolle a towne foure miles distant from Lausanna, and his whore with him for company, which was a sorceresse; who confessed that he had bene a sorcerer for the space of foure and twenty yeares, during which time he neuer left saying his ordinary Mas∣ses. Which makes me say, that there is old acquaintance and good agreement be∣tweene the god in the Masse, and the Bee in the boxe. For how else could this sor∣cering priest haue bene capable of this high honor and dignitie of singing Masse, seeing that before he came to be initiated in the diuels schoole and entred in his blacke booke, he was to giue himselfe body and soule, tripes and all vnto him: as also deny God his creator, and renounce his baptisme, as may appeare by the ar∣raignements, inditements and condemnations of sorcerers and witches. And ther∣fore the diuell (in my opinion) neuer gaue Hildebrand that counsell to cast the consecrated host into the fire, but he was horne mad for anger, in that it being cal∣led and reputed a god, could not answer the questions which hee demaunded of him, as well as Apollo, Bacis, or Pythias, who gaue answers by their O∣racles.

14 If any shall still doubt (notwithstanding the reasons that haue bene here alleadged, and elsewhere, as namely where I spake of the Sacramentall empoyso∣ner) whether there be indeed such good agreement and intelligence betweene the diuell and the breaden God, I will heare alleadge the testimonies of his owne priests, which shall likewise serue for the continuing of my intended discourse, touching the foresaid prophanation. And first I will alleadge the testimony of a Priest of Sauoy, named dom Anthony Goetrew (Dom in Sauoy is as much as Sir with vs) who when he was chanting his Masse, perceiuing his gossip which holpe him

to sing, stay too long before he answered Amen: Say Amen (quoth he) in the di∣uels name. And straight this gossip said Amen in the diuels name. True it is indeed that he was not a litle moued, for to his Amen he added these words; now a poxe on thee gossip: for if thou haddest not called so loud, I had taken a mouse. For you must note that he watched a mouse which was come to heare Masse, or to eat the Massemongers god. For diuers of them haue plaid such pranks as we know: but see his owne words, which haue a farre better grace in their proper dialect. Amen, Le chancrou te rungzay compare: se te n'ousse tan cria, zusson prey la ratta.

15 Further, concerning the good agreement which is betwixt this breaden god & the diuell, we haue the testimony of a Priest who said, For my part (I con∣fesse) I vnderstand nothing of these Saints Masses: but I will tickle you ouer an ordinary Masse in the diuels name. And here I cannot omit a like story of one, who chanting his Masse in a place where he might looke into his garden; and per∣ceiuing a boy in the top of one of his cherry trees, as he was lifting vp his breaden god ouer his head, cryed aloud, Come downe in a wannian, come downe: speaking it (as it is most like) aswell to his god of past which he held ouer his head, as to the boy in the tree. And he cōcurres in opiniō & practise with the foresaid Priest, who said, Come and say Masse in the diuels name, for my maister is angry. The same may be said of a gentleman of Lorraine, who said to his sonne (which had no great deuoti∣on to heare Masse (To Masse in the diuels name, to Masse. But here, it may be deman∣ded how it should be, that (seeing the diuell and the god of pas••e do so well agree & are such great friends) that Priests should so often threaten him with the diuell? as a certaine Sir Iohn in Lorraine did, who threatned to cast his poore god to the di∣uell. The story is this, A good fellow owing this Sir Iohn a displeasure, and resol∣uing to beat him soundly where euer he foūd him: meeting with him in the street as he was carying his breaden god: Oh (quoth he) how I would curry thee, were it not for the reuerence I beare to god in thy hands. Whereupon Sir Iohn (thin∣king himself as good a man he) answered and said, If that be the matter, it shall not hinder vs to try the mastery, and whether of vs shall beare away the blowes: see here is my God on the ground, (for he set him downe to rest him there, and to iudge of the combat) & the diuel take him if he deale on either side. This questiō (to say the truth) is more then Sorbonicall: for many of no greater moment haue bene debated in Councels. For seeing the breaden god and the diuell are such great friends, (as hath bene shewed) how is it possible that the god of past should stand in feare of him, as it is manifest he doth, at lestwise in their opinion who thus threaten him? Some may also obiect a fact committed by a Priest of Sauoye about thirtie yeares ago, (either Curate or Vicar of a village called ••eling neare to Bonne in Foussigns) to whō his parishioners came, to the end he might alay a great tēpest (For he had bragged that they needed not to feare either tempest, thunder, or light∣ning within the parish, so long as he continued with thē) who vsed first a number of coniurations which he had by 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and after tooke out of his Per••uise and Masse book the most horrible-terrible-words (being al this while shrowded vnder a tree, which kept off part of the tempest, and holden by foure or fiue for feare of be∣ing ouerthrowne:) but perceiuing in the end that all was to no purpose, and that he laboured in vaine, he brought foorth his holy Sacrament, that is, his breaden god▪ and spake thus vnto it, Cour 〈◊〉〈◊〉 n'••ple ••or quo le diablou, 〈…〉〈…〉 deg••ian le pa••o. That is, by G 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ if thou be 〈◊〉〈◊〉 stronger then the diuell, I will cast thee into the dirt. Here is (I say) another story lyable to the same obiection with the former: but because it would make my head ake to resolue it, I will refer it to the next Coūcell:

except they will in the meane time take this as a sufficient answer, that these brea∣den gods and the diuel play now and then the parts of Aduocates and Atturneys, who in open audience at the barre, looke as though they would eate one another, crying Haroll for iustice on their Clients side: but as soone as they are gone from the barre, shake hands and drinke together at their clients cost. Wherefore it may well be, that these gods and diuels abused the priests with like pollicy. At leastwise this is all that I can say herein for this present.

16 As for other prophanations wherewith the Massemonging priests (the Popes creatures) prophane that which they would haue holden for a Sacrament, I will here giue some few examples, leauing the Reader to iudge what reuerend o∣pinion the poore Papists ought to haue of other points of their religion, when the Masse priests so notoriously prophane this which is the very marrow of their mat∣tins. And first to beginne with a priest of Lorraine, who holding a pixe (or boxe) full of vnconsecrated singing cakes (as they terme them) shuffled thē together say∣ing, Ribaudaille, ribaudaille, Ye little whoresons, ye little whoresons, which of you wil be god to day? And from him I will come to a priest of Prouince, who being reproued for lifting vp his breaden god with his heeles vpward, and his head downward: I did it (quoth he) for feare left his hose would haue falne of his heeles. After these, I will tell you of a priest of Sauoy, who bragged that himselfe and his fellowes plai∣ed with the god in the Masse, as the cat plaieth with a mouse, viz. that after they had sported with it their fill, they deuoure it. I haue heard also of other Sir Iohns who haue put or rather incorporated into their Masses other manner of stuffe: for hitherto we haue onely spoken of him that said to his gossip, Say Amen in the di∣uels name: and of him who lifting vp his god ouer his head, called to one whom he espied climing his Cherry tree, and bade him come downe in the diuels name. Yet we haue said nothing of the Chaplaine of the late Marshall of Bié, who cal∣ling (as his manner was) for a cup of wine for his breakfast or morning draught, to one that holpe him at Masse, and hauing set it in an odde corner at the end of the Altar (or there about) couered with a cloth, till such time as he had mumbled ouer his Matins: so it was that one of the said Marshals lackies hauing a moneths mind to visit this pot, took his oportunitie when he saw the priest in his Memento. But this gentle Sir Iohn (for all his Memento) hauing one eye on his Portuise, and another on his pot, seeing it to be in that danger that it stood at the mercy of the lackey, added these words to his Memento, Let it alone thou bastards brat, let it alone. But of him who slept in his Memento, and when he awooke started vp crying, The king drinketh, (remēbring the Antheme he had song al the night long, which made his head to ake) we haue already spoken. Howbeit we haue said nothing of that bon cōpanion, who thinking he had bene stil at cards, cryed, I am flush. And I per∣swade my selfe, they would neuer haue inserted all these fo••d fooleries, had they not bene in sober sadnesse: witnesse that hedge priest by Paris, who hauing found in his Almanacke Sol in Canero writtten in red letters, thinking it had bene the name of some Saint, tooke some paines to seeke out the Masse that might fit it best: In the end when he had turned his Masse booke ouer and ouer, and could not find him out, he made an end of Matins in this mad moode. Sol in Can••ro, Sol in Cancrus, nec est Virgo, nec Martyrus: venite adoremus. It were endlesse to alleadge all the examples of the ornaments of the massing Sacrifice: (for considering what the Masse is, and not what the Popes creatures iudge it to be, I call that an orna∣ment, which according to them I should cal a prophanation) yet this one I cannot omit, the most famous of ten thousand, of Octauian of Saint Gelais, Bishop of An∣goulesme

(and yet a translatour of Ouids books de Arte amandi.) This prelate had laid a wager, that whensoeuer and wheresoeuer any should speake to him in rime, he would ex tempore answer in rime againe: the wager being agreed vpon, these three verses were propounded vnto him whilst he was dandling his little breaden God.

L'autre iour venant de l'escole, Ie trouuai la dame Nicole Laquelle estoit de verd vestue.

That is,

As I came from schoole alone, There I met with mistris Ione Clothed all in greene.

To which, without interrupting his missificall deuotion, hee answered readily in this sort:

Ostez-moy du col ceste estole, Et si bien tost ie ne l'accole, I'auray la gageure perdue.

That is,

Take but my cloake some one, If I kisse her not anone, I leese the wager cleene.

Thus were their Masses garnished with merry conceits, vttered by the massemon∣gers mates; as when they cried out aloud (ô most shamelesse and impudent vil∣laines) To the offering Sirs, you that haue any deuotion, Come on yee women, turne vp your tippets. But it was no iesting if the Priest did not post ouer his Masse as fast as they would haue him. For then they were horne-wood, as if the diuell had bene among them. Some crying, The diuell take thee Sir Iohn: others, Haste thee in the diuels name, for they wil haue broken their fast before we come. A pox on thee Sir Iohn (would another say) thou canst not reade halfe fast enough. All which charitable and deuout prayers are nothing in comparison of that which cer∣taine French gentlemen said to a Priest, who when he should haue made an ex∣traordinary short Epitome and abridgement of the Masse, made it longer by the whole passion: but they may thanke themselues. For whereas they should haue bidden him say a hunting Masse, they bad him say a souldiers Masse, thinking it would haue bene much shorter. Whereupon the poore Priest hauing dreamed a good while what Gospel made mention of souldiers, in the end he stumbled vp∣on these words in the story of the passiō, cū fustibus & armi••, and so put the whole passiō into his Masse: in the mean time making these gallāts (who were all booted, and their horses in danger to be surfetted at the Church gate) stamp and stare, and curse as well the Masse as the Masse-priest. These examples (in my iudgement) are more then sufficient to proue my former assertion, viz. that she which calleth her selfe the holy Catholicke Church, neuer so much as concealed from our aun∣cestors the least part of her leudnesse, but layd it open to those that were not blind, and proclaimed it to such as were not deafe. And verily they serue notably to shew how they prophaned that which they held for the onely true Catholicke and A∣postolicke faith and right Romane religion: (for of their wicked liues and false do∣ctrine, we haue spoken at large before) But as for our auncestors, where one of them complained of their false doctrine, a hundred complained of their abhomi∣nable liues: albeit the greater part found fault with them only for toyes and trifles:

suffering them in the meane while to runne riot into hainous enormities, not once opening their mouthes against them. As when they found no fault with them for their leudnesse in keeping of benefices in this or that manner, but for enioying of incompetible benefices, or for hauing ouer many. As we reade of king Lewis the twelfth, who whē a Bishop begged a benefice of him, (notwithstanding the great number he had already) answered, I shall (quoth he) giue thee so long, till the di∣uell carry all away. Tot dabo tibi quòd diabolus portabit omnia, as Menot hath it, who (good old Preacher) together with his fellow Friers (so often before allead∣ged) will furnish vs with store of such examples for the illustration of this point.

17 I come now to false miracles, some of which our predecessors discoue∣red, and others haue bene detected in our time: and I will first begin with Ioane the holy maid of Kent. This holy virgin was a long time holden to be a Saint and a Prophetesse by the subtill deuice and cunning of the Franciscans, who made the world beleeue that she descended from heauen: giuing it out (to colour the mat∣ter with some probabilitie) that she neither ate nor dranke; albeit she banquetted secretly, and playd the strumpet stoutly with their ghostly fathers holinesse. A∣mong other things, they made the poore people beleeue, that she knew all mens sinnes: and the truth is, she told those that resorted vnto her, the secretest sinnes they had committed; but it was not without the knauery of the false Friers, who suffered none to come to her till they had first shriuen them. Her selfe also might easily heare euery mans confession from the roome where she was: the Francis∣cans hauing chosen her a place very fit for the purpose. In the end when the knaue∣rie was discouered (after they had deceiued many thousands) shee and the gentle Friers, authors of the miracle, were executed. Some say the abuse was detected by a certaine gentleman, who suspecting the cunning packing of the Franciscans in acquainting her with mens confessions, confessed certaine things which he neuer did in all his life, which being afterwards told him againe by her, the legerdemaine was espied. Howbeit others say otherwise. There is also mention made of a cruci∣fixe, which the said Friers made to weepe and to speake. As for the false miracle (or rather false miracles) of the Iacobins of Berne and the Franciscans of Orleans, I will content my selfe to put the Reader in minde of them, hoping it will not be needfull to make further recitall thereof, considering these stories are in print, and in euery mans mouth. Onely let vs remember that the spirit of the Franciscans of Eureux was before the miraculous spirit of the Franciscans of Orleans, as hath bene said.

18 Iohn Menard in like maner records another false miracle (though wrought by no wicked spirit) in his book intituled A declaratiō of the order and state of the Fran∣ciscās. A pedlar of S. Anthonies relikes being to preach vnder a walnut tree, had stre∣wed gun-powder a litle before in a Pies nest, which bred in the tree, and hauing so done, he tied a small string vnto it, putting fire to the end thereof. Now whilest he was preaching his pardons, the Pie perceiuing the powder, began to make a great chattering. The Franciscan (who listened to heare this sport) thinking it wold not be long before it tooke fire aboue, began in this sort, Thou naughtie bird, which thus interruptest this holy exercise, my Lord S. Anthonies fire will burne thee for this geare. He had no sooner spoken the word, but the fire which had already sei∣zed vpon the nest by meanes of the string, burned both her and her yong ones: which was not done without a solemne shout, the people crying aloud, A mira∣cle, a miracle; by meanes whereof he got a good round offering. He further relates

sundry like stories which he had heard of these pedlers of reliks, S. Anthonies Que∣stors, as namely that their maner was to heat their litle crosses or brazē images whi∣lest the good wife went into the garner or celler to fetch them somthing, and at her returne would make her kisse the crosse or image, and when she felt it hote, they would exceedingly terrifie and affright her, saying, that their Lord Saint Anthony thereby shewed that he was not well pleased with her almes: whereupon the silly soule would go back again to fetch them more, and by that time the image would be well cooled; which they would say was a signe that S. Anthony was appeased. He writeth also in the same place of a li••••e knauish part played in Italy a litle before (viz. about the yeare 1530.) by one of the same craft, and seruant to the same mai∣ster, viz. how that this boute-feu being angry for that the poore labourer with whō he wrought, would giue him nothing for his paines, set fire on the house where his kine stood, which burnt not only that part, but all the rest of the building besides, and all the goods therein; making them beleeue that it came by a miracle wrought by S. Anthony▪ but for all his cunning and knauery, the truth was afterward known. He further addes a very notable story recorded by many of another of S. Anthonies treasurers, who burnt a poore womans peece of cloth, making the world beleeue that it came by S. Anthonies meanes, who did it to the end he might be reuenged of her; which hapned (as he saith) in the country of Vaux, but as others affirme in Calabria. The story is told thus: One of S. Anthonies treasurers trauelling through the country (with a good fellow who led the Asse which caried the wallet) passed by a butchers house, where, as soone as his man had rung the bell, the good wife forthwith opened the doore, and hauing let them in, went to fetch them a peece of flesh: in the meane while this false Frier hauing marked two faire swine playing together vpon the dunghill, turning him at her returne toward his knauish com∣panion, said, Is it not great pitie that these two swine should die so suddenly▪ The poore woman listening to his speech, questioned further with him thereof. Wher∣upon the ghostly father said vnto her, My good sister I can say nothing, but that I am very sory that these two swine should die so suddenly, and there is no man li∣uing that can perceiue it, except he be in the fauour of blessed S. Anthony: howbeit there were some hope, if I had but two of the acornes which our Priour halloweth euery yeare. The woman holding vp her hands, besought him to giue her some of them, promising not to be vnmindfull of that good turne. He then casting his eie vpon his seruant (who attended vpon this trash and gaine of the wallet) asked him if he had any of the acornes left, which hee gaue at the village whence they came last? The fellow hauing sought a good while, answered that he could find but two, which he said he kept for their Asse which was often sicke: Though our Asse should die (quoth he) yet must we pleasure this good woman, whom I know to be well affected to our order. Meane while looking with a couetous leering eye at a peece of cloth which lay hard by, (continuing his speech) he said, My good si∣ster, I am so perswaded of your liberalitie, that you will not deny me a peece of linnen cloth for the poore sicke folke of our Couent. She forthwith offered him linnen cloth or what he would demaund, so he would speedily remedy that euill. Then taking these two acornes in his hand, he called for a vessell full of water, and cast therein a little salt; and putting off his cowle, began to patter ouer a number of shor•• prayers (his man still answering Amen, and the good wife with her chil∣dren being solemnly all the while vpō their knees;) and hauing ended his deuoti∣ons, he beat the acornes to powder, and cast them into the water▪ and stirring them together like a mash, gaue them the swine to drinke, making many crosses, and

pronouncing as many blessings ouer their backes, euer calling vpon the good Ba∣ron S. Anthony for assistance in this miracle. This done, he told her that her swine were in no danger. She therefore to make good her promise, changed her peece of cloth for the grand mercies of this ghostly father. But the good man of the house (her husband) coming home shortly after, and hearing of all this pageant, as also how his cloth was an actor therein: taking two or three of his gossips with him ranne after them. The Frier seeing them comming a farre off with staues vpon their necks, was amazed like a cutpurse taken in the fact▪ howbeit he thought it his best course to take an house (which was somwhat neare) into which his man ran, and secretly conueyed thence two quicke coales, which he folded vp in the cloth: and hauing so done, they passed on their way, as though they mistrusted nothing. Anone the butcher ouertooke him, and laying hold of his hood (after a rude and rough manner) asked him for his cloth, calling him theefe, with many other threatning words. Sir quoth the Frier (very mildly) You shall haue it with all my heart; and God forgiue you this wrong you offer me, in taking that from mee which was giuen me in recompence of a great good turne done at your house: it grieueth me not that you take away my cloth, yet I trust the glorious Baron Saint Anthony will worke some wonder, and that shortly, to teach you how you intreat the faithfull seruants and friends of God. The butcher nothing regarding vaine words, returned backe, very iocund that he had gotten his cloth againe. Howbeit he was not gone a bow shoote from the Frier, but he smelt the burning of some thing, and saw a smoke round about him; whereat he and his fellowes were so a∣mazed, that they cast downe the cloth, and cried aloud, S. Anthony the hermite, S. Anthony of Padua. Which when the Frier and his varlet heard, they came run∣ning to them like slie merchants with demure countenances; his man presently putting out the fire, and the Frier discharging a number of blessings ouer the heads of these simple suppliants (being on their knees) instantly crying him and the good Saint mercy, till they were euen hoarse withall. These things thus p••ssed ouer, he caried them to the parish Church to Masse, where the cloth being vnfolded and well viewed (for so the story saith) it was solemnly auowed for a miracle. And it was inioyned the poore butcher in way of penance, to accompany the Frier throughout all Calabria to witnesse this wonder; who by this meanes did not onely recouer his cloth againe, but gathered a round summe of money (euery man thinking himselfe happie that gaue him any thing:) whereas the poore but∣cher lost not only his cloth, but was further endomaged as well with the expence of his iourney as the intermission of his trade.

19 From Calabria I will passe ouer into France, a countrey second to none in fertilitie of false miracles: and will begin with Pudding Saint Peter in the coun∣trey of Berry, of whom this story is recorded. A priests maid (to speake with reue∣rence) hauing powred swines blood into a great latin basin, (which had the I∣mage of Saint Peter embossed in it, and wherinto the Curate was wont to put his offerings, & to set it for a shew vpon the Altar;) it happened on a time that a drop of blood was perceiued vpon Saint Peters face; about which the Curate made no small ado, not forgetting (among other ceremonies) to ring the bels, as for a most certaine and excellent well qualified miracle. Which caused all the neighbour pa∣rishes round about, to meete there at procession; which when his fellow Curat perceiued, (being moued with enuie) he made such diligent inquirie, that he foūd how that certaine drops of blood which the Curats maid had put into the basin, were fallen into the concauitie or hollownesse of the embossing, where it was not

closely ioyned to the place, which being congealed and frozen, continued vntil the thaw; and then running downe, were seene vpon Saint Peters face, which gaue occasion to the rumour, that Saint Peter wept bloudy teares: which rumour (the knauery being well knowne) was afterward turned into a matter of meriment and mockage of poore Saint Peter, who for this accident was euer after called Pudding Saint Peter.

20 And to parallele it with one other like example (before I leaue this country) In the Church belonging to the Castle without Bourges, it happened that a Bird (some say a Pigeon) bleeding of a wound, ••ested herselfe vpon the head of our Lady of Colwort, so that some of the blood ranne downe her face. And then who for a penny could cry the loudest, a miracle, a miracle. But when the kings Lieute∣nant had caused the head to be looked vpon and searched, the feathers of a bird and some of her blood were found in the crannies and hollownesse of the Image; whereupon the miracle which had bene before cryed so loud, was cryed downe againe as fast.

21 I haue also heard of one of our Ladies (called our new Lady) who being mi∣raculously discouered, wrought many miracles, at leastwise they made her beleeue that she did them. They had hidde her in a hollow vault vnder the grasse which they watered with salt water, which by the grasing of the kine in that place, was di∣scouered.

22 The deceit also of the Rood of Mu••e•• by Tholouze hath bin very famous. For they made this Crucifixe beleeue (about thirtie yeare ago) that it wept, and did many miracles vpon the lame, the blind, and such like impotent persons, in cu∣ring such infirmities as surpassed the Art of Physicke. There are two opinions touching the distilling of the water out of the Crucifix eyes, which they call tears. Some say it was done by water mixed with oyle; others, that it was by the branch of a vine thrust into the head of the Rood, at what time it putteth out the sap, or weepeth, as others speake. But the miracle continued longer then that season, and therefore though this deuice might serue them for that time, yet it was necessary they should find out some other for the time to come.

23 These were the meanes which they vsed to bring a Crucifix or Saint into credit: but to the end it might hold the credit it had got, and increase it the more, they suborned certain sturdy beggers to coūterfeit the lame or the blind, or to fain that they had bene dangerously diseased, and afterward cured thereby. Sometime they vsed this as a meanes onely to make their Saint famous: of which kind of co∣senage we haue sundry examples, three of which come now to my minde. The first is of Saint Renaud at Paris in the suburbs of our Lady of the fields, whom the Fryers of that Couent would needs make beleeue that he was become a Saint and the powerfullest wonder-worker within 50. miles of his head. For effecting wher∣of, they suborned certaine crafty knaues, to whom they had giuen the watch word to counterfeit the lame, the blind, &c. One of which affirmed that he was borne blind: who after he had taken many friskes in leaping vp and downe, cryed a mira∣cle, a miracle, for that he was restored to his sight. At which words a certaine good∣fellow who lay in the wind to watch his oportunity to discouer this abuse, hearing him say, he had recouered his sight, shewed him the coloured lyning of his coate, and said: If thou neuer sawest in all thy life, and now seest (which I can hardly beleeue,) Tell me, what colour is this? The counterfeit told him presently what colour it was, in the hearing of them all. The man hauing him where he would, said: See here my masters, if he could neuer see before, how can he iudge of co∣lours?

By which policy this abuse was detected. The 2. is of thē who faining the fal∣ling sicknes (called S. Iohns euil) went to him vpon his festiual day, & hauing fomed much with crying, ô Iohn, Iohn, Iohn, about his shrine or the place where he stood, made the word beleeue that they were cured. In which was a manifest & impudēt deceit: sith they which haue the falling sicknesse neither speake a word nor moue a finger. The third is of the miracles wrought in Venice, about thirteene yeares ago, by a Monke called Fra Matthio (as I remember) who was almost as soone vncano∣nized as canonized▪ to whom beggers and rogues came flocking thicke and three∣fold, some counterfaiting the lame, others the blind; some faining themselues sicke of the palsie, others that they had lost the vse of their limmes, and others some o∣ther infirmitie: which counterfait companions came not thither for nothing, for they were well rewarded for their labour by the canonizing Monks. Oh (would some say at their returne) how do I feele my selfe eased of my paine? Another▪ that he was as whole as a fish, and as sound as a bell, &c. Howbeit, this pageant was not plaid without great murmur: for many that went thither to see this imposture (of which number my selfe was one) could not but speake what they thought, pitying the simple seduced people; who perceiuing not that these vagabonds were subor∣ned, were fully perswaded that this false Fryer was become a worker of wonders after his death. True it is indeed, he was in his life time accounted a very holy mā: & therfore the people were more easily induced to beleeue that which was repor∣ted of his working of wonders. Among other things, I heard this reported of him, that he would inueigh mightily against the Court of Rome, when the toy tooke him in the head, and vse Dyogenick-like dealing in scoffing and censuring those that came within his walke. And I remember what captaine Franchot related to the now deceased Odet de Selue (then Ambassadour for the French king to the state of Venice) concerning this gentle Sir Iohn. I bade (said he) this Frier to dinner one time in Lent, that he might serue as a fiddle to the company which I had inuited: (for I knew he could ••east and sport when it pleased him,) who needing no great entreatie, came at the time appointed, and being set downe at table which was fur∣nished with kiddes and sundry sorts of stued meates, (as the maner is at Rome) ply∣ed his trencher and filled his panch aswell as any in the company, not shewing the least dislike. True it is, we perceiued he chopt it vp apace, as though he had bene in great hast, as well appeared afterward: for he had made an end of dinner long be∣fore vs, & rising frō the table, left vs still at meate: & he was no sooner in the street, but we might heare one cry with opē mouth. * 1.19 Allo inferno tutti quelli chi mangiano carne la quaresima; whose voice we thought was very like the Friers, howbeit we could not imagine it should be he, considering that in crying out against such as had eaten flesh in Lent, he should haue exclaimed against himselfe also. But as we looked out at the window, we might perceiue that it was he indeed. And, which doth more aggrauate his fact, the more he was intreated to be silent, the more cla∣morous he was; so that we could deuise no other meanes to make him hold his peace, but by threatning to beate him. The captaine hauing ended his narration, other like stories were reported of him, suting the former in all points: by which we might well perceiue what humour it was that caused him to procure the fore∣said canonization.

24 Moreouer, I remember I haue heard of many false miracles about resto∣ring of children to life, which were stil borne, at leastwise to some sense and feeling, till such time as they had bene baptised. And verily, it was the easiest matter of a thousand, for the Clergie to make the poore people beleeue what they thought

good: for according to the common saying, It is an easie matter to deceiue him that thinketh no hurt. And what great conscience they made to thinke amisse of any thing they either said or did, yea to iudge that the knauery of the Clergy (though notoriously knowne) was plaine knauery, may wel appeare by sundry places of this booke, and namely by that which hath bene spoken in this chapter. Notwithstan∣ding here is yet a further point to be noted concerning the false miracles wrought by these impostors: how that they vsed sometimes the help of charmes; and some∣times againe dazeled the eyes of the simpler sort by diabolicall illusions. Now he that would see examples of such iuggling (to omit that which hath bene already alleadged) shall finde store of them in the booke of Conformities so often before alleadged) where we find so many to haue bene cured by S. Francis and his disci∣ples, and raised from death to life, that (if it were so indeed) we might well say they had all miracles at commaund: and that to worke a miracle (and namely to raise the dead) was as easie a matter as to drinke when one is drie. For what could not he do, whose frock (or cowle) was such a worker of wonders, that it gaue sight to three blind folkes, one man and two women? And how miraculously Friers breeches made womens bellies (which were naturally barren) to swel and tympa∣nize, not so much as little children but haue heard thereof: and verily such actions are there registred for miracles, that a man would thinke the diuel had em∣ployed all his charmes, sorceries and illusions therein.

25 To this knauery we may adde the imposture formerly mentioned, pra∣ctised by those hucksters who made the world beleeue, that the bones of the first malefactor they met withall (for want of better) were the miraculous bones of such or such a Saint; which they call relikes. And because there is a notable exam∣ple of this kind of cousinage, witnessed euen by Popelings themselues (of which as yet no mention hath bene made) I will here insert it. But forasmuch as I haue heard it told otherwise then Boccace hath recorded it (albeit the difference be in the circumstance and not in the substance) I will relate it both wayes, leauing the Reader to his choice. And first I will tell it as I heard it. A pedler of Popish wares hauing pawned his relikes in a tauerne, and being not able to redeeme them, be∣thought himselfe of this deuice. He tooke vp a coale in the presence of his hostesse, of whom he had borrowed the money, wrapping it vp in a faire linnen cloth. Whereat she began to mocke and make merry. Why hostesse (quoth he) what is the matter? do you indeed make a mocke at my coale? I will make you kisse it for all this before it be night. Whereupon she would needs wager with him, that he could not make her kisse it. Well then (quoth he) let the wager be for so much as I owe you, vpon condition that if I winne you shall deliuer me my relikes againe. The bargaine being agreed vpon, this gentle Frier (whose wit was not gone of wool-gathering) went to the Church, where he told the people that he would not shew them the relikes he was wont to shew them, but one farre more preci∣ous: and therewith vnfolding his faire cloth, he shewed them his coale, saying, My good friends, do you marke this coale? I tell you it is one of those coales, vpon which the glorious martyr S. Laurence was broyled; and it hath a certaine secret property; for no maide that hath lost her virginitie, nor any houswife that hath broken the bond of matrimony, may come neare to kisse it: for if they do, they wil be in great danger. He had no sooner spoken the words, but there was great thron∣ging about him; she thinking her selfe happiest which could first come to kisse it: euery silly soule, both maid and matron desiring to sh••w openly that their consci∣ences did not accuse them secretly. His hostesse on the one side well perceiuing

that if she kissed it her wager was lost; and knowing on the other side, that if she did not, she should be suspected to haue playd her husband a slippery touch, & should not be beleeued though she made neuer such report of the wager which she had layd; went after all the rest, & kissed this fooles bable. By this deuice this iolly Frier redeemed his relikes without disbursing one penny, and increased moreouer the number of them, by adding this vnto the old. Menot the Franciscan, whose testi∣mony we need not to suspect (considering he was made of the same mould, a Frier of the same fry) toucheth this story but by the way, yet he agreeth with me in this circumstance, that the relikes were left in the tauerne: his words are these: Fol. 41. col. 4. Dic de illis qui reliquias suas in taberna perdiderunt, & stipitem inuentum in sudario, loco reliquiarum suarum, dixerunt esse quo beatus Laurentius combustus fuerat. And now you shall heare it as Boccace hath it, but more briefly, yet so as I will not omit that which may make for the vnderstanding of the papisticall style, which these Frier dockers obserue. One of S. Anthonies religious pigs, called Frier Onion, being accustomed to go to a village by Florence (called Certald) once a yeare to ga∣ther almes, went one Sunday morning into the chiefe Church, where both towne & country was met to heare Masse: who when he saw his time, began in this sort: My masters and dames, you haue bin accustomed of your speciall loue and fauor, to send euery yeare to the poore which belong to my Lord Baron S. Anthony, both wheate and oates, some more, some lesse, euery man according to his abilitie and deuotion: that blessed S. Anthony should keepe your bullocks, asses, swine & sheep. Besides, you were wont (those especially that are written in our fraternitie) to pay that small dutie which they pay once only in the yeare. For gathering vp of which things my Lord Abbot hath sent me; and therefore see ye misse not to come in the afternoone into the Church-yard (when you heare the bels ring) where ac∣cording to the custome I wil make you a Sermon, and giue you the crosse to kisse. Moreouer, forasmuch as I know you to be most deuout seruants of my Lord Barō S. Anthony, I wil shew you of my especiall grace and fauor, a most holy & goodly relike which my selfe brought long since frō beyond the seas out of the holy land, being one of the angel Gabriels fethers which he left in the virgin Maries chamber when he saluted her in Nazareth. And hauing thus said, he returned to heare Masse. Now there were two merry cōpanions in the company, who determined to shew this iolly Frier a tricke of conueyance concerning the fether of the Angell Gabri∣el. For watching their opportunitie, they went and ransacked all his packet of trin∣kets, amongst which they found a little coffer wrapped vp in taffata, wherein was a fether of a Parrots taile, which he would haue made them beleeue had bene the Angell Gabriels feather: as he might easily haue done without much Rhetoricke; seeing the most of them had not onely not seene it, but not so much as once heard of any such thing. Now when these good fellowes had taken away the feather (because they would not leaue the coffer empty) they filled it vp with coles. After dinner when the time was come that he should shew this goodly relicke, he called to his man for the trash he had giuen him to keepe, willing him to ring the belles and cal the people together. And when they were assembled, he began his sermon intreating of that which he thought would fit his purpose best in regard of his re∣lick. In the end when he was come to the point to shew it, he first made a solemne and deuout confession, and then (hauing two lighted torches) he tooke off the taf∣fata very gingerly wherein the coffer was wrapped: and speaking in the meane while something in commendation of the Angell Gabriel and of his relicke, he opened it. And perceiuing the tricke which was plaid him (blushing at it no more

then a blacke dog, nor shewing any signe of astonishment) he lifted vp his eyes and hands to heauen, saying, ô God, praised be thy power for euer. That done, he shut his coffer againe, and turning him to the people, said; My Masters and Dames, you are to know, that my superior sent me (when I was a yong man) into the East countrey, and it was giuen me in charge, &c. And making a long discourse of his trauaile, he told them, that the Patriarch of Ierusalem had shewed him (amongst other relicks) a little peece of the holy Ghosts finger, as sound and whole as euer it was: and the snowt of the Seraphin which appeared to Saint Francis: and one of the nailes of the Cherubin, one of the sides of verbum Caro, the abilliments of the holy Catholicke faith: some beames of the starre which appeared to the three kings in the East, and a Phiall-full of the sweat of Saint Michael when he fought with the diuell. These are the relickes which (as he said) the Patriarch shewed him. But behold others which he did not onely shew him, but also giue him. One of the teeth of the holy Crosse, a little of the sound of the b••s of Salomons Temple, a feather of the Angell Gabriel, one of the clogs of Saint Gerrard of Gran-ville. Be∣sides all these, I haue (said he) some of the coales whereon the blessed Martyr Saint Lawrence was broyled. All which I haue brought into these parts in great deuoti∣on. Howbeit my superior would neuer suffer me to shew them, till he was fully re∣solued whether they were true relicks or not. But now being certified, partly by the miracles which haue bene wrought by them, partly by letters from the Patri∣arch, he hath permitted me to shew them. And because I dare trust none with them, I cary them alwaies about me: and for that I was afraid I should marre the Angell Gabriels feather, I put it in a little boxe, and the coales whereon Saint Law∣rence was broyled in another; which boxes are so like one another, that I often take the one for the other, as now it happeneth. For whereas my purpose was to haue brought the boxe wherin the feather was, I brought that wherin the coales were. But I hope there is no hurt herein, sithence it is the will of God it should be so, he hauing put the boxe of coales into my hands. And now I remember the feast of S. Lawrence is to be celebrated within these two daies; and therefore, &c. I leaue the rest to such as desire further information hereof: considering that this story is en∣riched (as the rest of the same author) but with accustomable lyes, common and ordinary with these false Fryers. For which cause I would not omit them.

26 And thus thou seest (gentle Reader) how their false miracles haue bene discouered and laid open to the sight of the Sunne, as well as their other trumpe∣ries. But as blind Bartimaeus saw no more in the cleare Sunne-shine then in a gloo∣my day, nor at noone-day then at mid-night: so we are to thinke that the silly se∣duced world had so lost the vse of reason, & was become so sottish and senslesse, so blind and brutish in matters of religion, that none of these grosse abuses though committed before their eyes, were once perceiued by them. For it is well knowne how the heady multitude would breake forth into plaine murmuring and muti∣nie against those that durst say, that that which they held to be a miracle, was but a iuggling tricke of a quacksaluing mountebanke, albeit it had bene discouered by the Magistrate of the place. Nay, they haue growne to harder termes; euen to breake open the prison doores where these companions were kept in hold; yea af∣ter the knauery was detected. And here we are to remember that which I touched before, how that that which should haue serued them as a crystall, wherein they might haue seene their cunning conueyance, was so handled by them, that it was a meanes to keepe them still in their former darknesse. And as they were as blind as beetles, so were they as deafe as dore nailes: for we know what a siluer trumpet

Martin Luther was (to say nothing of Wickleffe, Iohn Hus, Ierome of Prague, and the like his predecessours) and yet the shrill sound thereof spent it selfe and vanished away in the ayre, and was neuer able to pierce their eares of a long time, they were so thicke of hearing. But in the end, the Lord who had sent this his trumpeter, char∣med these deafe adders in such sort, that he caused them to lend their patient eare. But how (may some say) could churchmen maintaine thēselues since the sounding of this alarme; especially since the coming of Antichrist was proclaimed through the world, and that little children could see their knaueries, and touch them (as it were) with their fingers? For answer whereunto, let posteritie know (how euer they may wonder to heare it) that they haue kept their kitchins hot, and fed them∣selues fat by other meanes. For when they perceiued that the truth of God made open warre against them, and that it got ground of them by little and little, win∣ning from them now one peece, now another: they shewed themselues no lesse cruell and currish, fell and furious against those that stood in defence thereof (if once they fell into their clouches) then the Lion or Tygre, nay then the Lionesse doth against those that rob her of her whelpes, as shall be declared in the Chap∣ter following.

CHAP. XL. Wherein is declared how that after posteritie shall haue wondered at the long continued folly of Popish practises and abuses, it wil further wonder how the open discouering of them should haue cost so many men their liues, who were persecuted by the Cleargie: and will iudge this story no lesse strange then sundry recorded by Herodotus.

IN the time of our Ancestors, whilest the folly of the former abuses was in the ruffe, the Cleargie not content to be reuerenced and a∣dored of the poore people, to haue their purses at command when they thought good, and to terrifie them with their excommunica∣tions, came to this passe, euen to set their feete in their neckes, not as it is commonly said by a figuratiue speech, but really and indeed. Nay, one of their Popes was not ashamed to set his foote in the Emperours necke. For it is a knowne and famous history (neither hath it bin forgotten by those that haue writ∣ten the liues of Popes) how that Alexander the third hauing commanded the Em∣perour Fredericke to prostrate himselfe, and aske him pardon for his offence (be∣fore a multitude of people, in Saint Marks Church at Venice,) the Emperour at his commaund kneeled downe; whereupon this gentle Pope, setting his foote vpon his throte (or as some say, in his neck) said, It is written, thou shalt walk vpon the Aspe and the Basiliske, the yong Lion and the Dragon shalt thou tread vnder thy feete. The Emperour highly offended at this so great contempt and outrage, answered, I do not this to thee, but to Saint Peter. Then he treading vpon him the second time, said, ••oth to me, and to Saint Peter. Now here it is to be noted, that the chiefe cause of this Emperours coming, was, that he might be absolued from the Popes excom∣munication. Further, we reade how that the Venetians sent an Embassadour to Pope Clement the fift, called Francis Dandalus, to intreate for absolution from the Popes excommunication (for he had excommunicated them againe and againe, and cursed them with bell, booke and candle; and (not content to thunder out all

sorts of Ecclesiasticall censures) had caused the Croysado to be published against them in Italy.) But he refused to absolue them, till that the Embassadour (in way of honorable satisfaction) had put a dogges coller about his necke, and there∣with had crept vpon all foure, the length of the great hall in the pallace of A∣uinion: for which fact he was euer after at Venice called dog. The said Pope wal∣king vpon a time through the citie of Bogenci, vpon the riuer Loyre, in great pomp, had (amongst others) for his attendants, or rather seruing-men and lackeys, the King of England and the King of France, one vpon his right hand, and another on his left; one of them leading his horse by the bridle. We reade also how the foresaid Emperour Fredericke attended vpon Pope Adrian the fourth (this mans predecessor) like a blew-coate; at least, that he held him the stirrop when he ligh∣ted off his horse, by the same token, that in lieu of this so great humility, he got no∣thing but a frumpe for his labour, and that by the Pope himselfe, for holding the left stirrop in stead of the right. With which flout the Emperour being somwhat moued, said, I was neuer brought vp in such a trade: and thou art the first on whom I haue thus attended. And what arrogant speeches vsed Boniface the eight to King Philip the faire, when he made no bones to tell him, that by reason of his disobedi∣ence and contumacy, the kingdome of France was fallen into the lapse, and deuol∣ued to the Church of Rome? The said Pope hauing his sword by his side, was not ashamed to brag and boast of himselfe (hauing refused now the third time to giue to Albert Duke of Austria the title of Emperour of Germany) that himselfe for∣sooth was Emperour, and Lord of all the world.

2 And sutable to that which hath bene said of the excommunication of Fre∣dericke the Emperour by Pope Alexander the third, that is to be noted which Ma∣chiauel saith, that Popes become great by three things, by excommunications, by pardons, by weapons; yea so great, that whereas in times past they were subiect to Kings in ciuill causes, now they are aboue them, and take vpon them to command them. For it is to be obserued, that by reason of their pardons or indulgences they were worshipped as gods, and gathered Peters pence apace: by reason of excom∣munication they were feared; whereof we may see infinite examples in the liues of Popes. And these words thunderbolt and thundering helped them well to play their parts with those who tooke the Pope to be the man whom he affirmed himselfe to be. Yet I will not say, but that they haue inriched themselues by their excommunications. For as they forbad the vse of sundry things, to the end men might buy dispensations: so they excommunicated men to the end they might buy absolutions. As we reade how the foresaid Emperour Fredericke bought his absolution of Pope Gregory the ninth, at the price of an hundred thousand ounces of gold. But what shall we say to Boniface the eight, who not content to excommu∣nicate the French King according to the vsual manner, excommunicated him and all his to the fourth generation? By which we may perceiue how at their pleasure they trod Kings and Emperours (as well as meaner men) vnder their feete, openly mocking at the Lombard-like patience and sottishnesse of the world. For what co∣lourable excuse or pretence could his Holinesse haue to excommunicate a man with all his posteritie to the fourth generation? The like mockage vsed the foresaid Pope, when to spite the forenamed King Philip the faire, he nullified all the indul∣gences granted to the French by his predecessors. For had these pardons had such vertue in them as they were supposed to haue, they should haue deliuered many millions of soules out of Purgatory: whereas being manifested to be but trumpe∣ries & meere nullities, it should follow that these poore soules were to returne back

into Purgatory againe. As a malefactor who hauing got out of prison by meanes of the Princes pardon, if it so fall out that his pardon be reuersed or repealed, there is no remedy, he must be cast into prison againe.

3 Further, we may see how men excommunicate were driuen to despaire, and what cruell reuenge was taken of the Laitie for offending and wronging the Cleargie, by a story recorded in the life of Honorius the third, where it is said, that Anno 1223. Adam Bishop of Cathnes in Scotland, being burned in his own kitchin by some of his diocesse, for excommunicating certaine of them, because they paid not their tenths: this Pope was neuer at quiet till for this one he had hanged foure hundred of them, and gelded their children. Which history (to omit other parti∣culars) shewes into what a desperate case poore soules were driuen by this meanes. For it is not probable that they which did so handle their Bishop (who had excom∣municated them) would haue broken out into so great outrage, but that formerly they had bene instant suppliants and importunate suiters for an absolution; which being denied, caused them to fall into this mad mood.

4 Consider now (gentle Reader) how these Antichrists made all the world to tremble vnder them: for if any shal reply and say, that al Church-men were nei∣ther Popes nor Prelates, to keepe the people in such aw, and to be so much feared: I shall desire him to remēber what the prouerbe saith, De grand maistre, hardy va∣let. A great lord, a bold seruant; which (if I be not deceiued) hath bene more truly verified, and better practised by thē, then by any men in the earth. For hardly durst a man looke a paltry priest in the face, for the great reuerence and respect which was had of our holy mother the Church. Besides, it is to be obserued that their Lord and Maister did not reserue the thunderbolt of excōmunication to himselfe alone, but affoorded it them, when and as often as they stood in need: which they so little spared, that for halfe a quart d'escu, yea for a matter of three pence (as Menot saith) they would not stick to excōmunicate poore men, who were therupon dri∣uen to despaire, as thinking themselues to be damned. And because the place in Menot serueth so fitly for this purpose, I will here insert it. He saith therefore fol. 143. col. 4.

He that is excommunicated, is forsaken of God, and giuen vp into the power of all the diuels in hell: and therefore it is a great and grieuous sinne to put such a sharpe sword into the hand of a foolish Prelat, seeing it is no small matter to send a man to the diuell. Sutable hereunto a Caualier said vpon a time to one of our order: Softly father, I would gladly be resolued of you in a difficult point: I cannot sufficiently wonder at the dealing which is practised at this day in the Church, in that we secular men send those whom we cut off with the stroke of iu∣stice to heauen: you Church-men send them straight to the diuell. I will shew you how: when we condemn any man to death (which he hath iustly deserued) before we send him to the gallows, we procure some good man to shriue him, and when he is led to the place of execution, we comfort him and put him in good hope, and labor by all meanes to work him to a good dispositiō, that so he may dye in a good mind: whereas you Clergy-men (who haue the cure, and should haue the care of mens soules) for three single pence, or an old paire of shooes, send a man soule and body, cloathes and all to the diuell: such great zeale you haue of the saluation of our soules. To which this ghostly father (as he confessed to me) could not answer him with al his diuinitie, seeing his conscience told him that he spake nothing but the very truth: & he is yet to take counsell of his pillow what answer to make him.

If this poore Franciscan was constrained to cōfesse thus much, (who had affirmed a little before, that all that were excommunicated by Priests, were no longer vn∣der

the protection of God, nor in the bosome of the Church, but were deliuered vp to Sathan, in such sort, that euen vpon good Friday, when men pray not onely for Christians, but also for Iewes, Pagans, and other infidels, they pray not for them.) If (I say) his conscience inforced him to cōfesse this, in what a pitiful plight (may we thinke) were they, ouer whom they did so tyrannize, by terrifying them with the thunderbolt of excommunication?

5 And no maruell if they stood in such feare to be excommunicated by a Priest, considering the opinion which they had of them (which was often beaten into their heads:) I meane the opiniō which they had of their power & authority: for they would not sticke to say, Potestas Mariae maior est potestate Angelorum, non tamen potestate sacerdotum. Which sentence is alleadged by Menot, fol. 107. And God knowes what goodly lying legends they alleadged to proue the power, dig∣nitie and greatnesse of Priests. As when Barelete recordeth fol. 247. col. 3. that after that the Emperour Constantine had bene baptized, he sent backe two Priests which came to him for the deciding of a controuersie which was betwixt them, and that he should say vnto them, It belongs not to me to iudge them that are my gods. And what would we more? when they apply sundry places of Scripture to their shaue∣lings, which were written of Christ himselfe: neither herewith content, forge sun∣dry fables touching the strange torments inflicted vpon those that had any way wronged or offended Church-men, or had called them by any terme worse then their names. And as for Priests, their shauen crowne (which might not be touched vpon paine of excōmunication) exempted them frō the iurisdiction & authoritie of the secular power (yea of Kings and Emperours themselues) by many priuiled∣ges of their Popes; in such sort, that certaine theeues (as histories report) would needs be shauen in the Priests cut, that if they were taken, they might be sent to their competent Ecclesiasticall Iudges, that is, might escape and be set at libertie as themselues thought good. Notwithstanding, euen those Church-men which had not their crownes shaued, but onely some lesser marke and character of the beast, would boast and bragge of this priuiledge of exemption from secular power.

6 And touching their cosening conueyances, it is no maruell if they were so plunged therein ouer head and eares, considering the feare they were in of being excommunicated, if they did but once entertaine any thing tending to the preiu∣dice of the least ceremony established or receiued in their religion. Besides, they terrified them with the feare of certaine torments which they were to suffer in Purgatory or in hell, according to the qualitie of their sinnes. As we reade in the booke of Conformities of Saint Francis with Christ, of a man who hauing but once omitted to make a legge at Gloria Patri, did vndergo most cruell paine in Purgatory. They also alleadged examples of certaine punishments which haue bene inflicted vpon men in this life: of which sort we reade of one very ridiculous aboue the rest, viz. that in the daies of Pope Iohn the one and twentieth, it was bla∣zed a broad ouer all Saxony, that there were certaine which neuer ceased dancing a whole yeare together without intermission (by vertue of a curse wherewith the priest had blessed them) because they honoured not the breaden god which he caried about with him.

7 We may also perceiue how the poore people were nuzzled in ignorance, by that which at the first they made them beleeue concerning the Lutherans (as they tearme them:) for they were so farre from letting them vnderstand that they were like vnto other men, and that they had no hornes, that they were such as had

bene baptized, and armed themselues with texts of holy Scripture against the Church of Rome: as that they made them beleeue, that in shape and figure they differed from other men, that they made a mocke of God and all religion, that they had wiues common; and in a word, that they were worse then Iewes, Turkes or Saracens. It is further to be noted, that a great part of the simple people knew not of a long time, whether a Lutheran were the name of a man or of a beast. For it is reported of one who being called a Lutherā, asked his friend what this name Lu∣theran meant, who told him that it was a disease ten times worse then the Leprosie: which he did so firmly beleeue, that falling sicke not long after, he sent his state to the Physitian, with this commandement, that they should enquire of him, if he were not a Lutheran?

8 But at the last when their trumperies were so layd open, and their iuggling tricks so well discouered, that euen litle children could laugh them to scorne, it was necessary for them to deuise some other meanes whereby to maintain themselues. For how the Cleargie terrified men with the thunderbolt of excommunication (when as they of the same religion feared it no more then a childs rattle, or the cracke of a pot-gun) may appeare by the Emperour Charles the fift (who was not only a fauorer but also a defender thereof.) for being menaced with excommuni∣cation by Pope Paulus the third, if he would not yeeld vp Playsance into his hands (after the death of Peter Lewis,) he let him vnderstand by his Embassadour, that he would thunder and lighten with his canons and artilery, if he wold needs be thun∣dring with his excommunications. What meanes then vsed they (may we thinke) to stop vp the light of the truth, that it might not preuaile against the darknesse of their lying legends? Verily the same that we find registred of Phalaris, Busiris, Nero and such of the like strain. But what do I compare them with these gentle tyrants? For they neuer thought of the tenth part of the cruelties which these hel-hounds haue practised against those that maintained the truth, and armed themselues with the word of God to vphold his credit and cause: for they chopped Logicke with them, and answered them againe with fire and sword, and all kind of torments: and in so doing were both parties and iudges; taking it to heart as a matter that did sit very neare them, because they foresaw that this light which some laboured to giue entrance vnto, wold in the end put out the great fire of their greasie kitchin. And it was but lost labor to alleadge Scripture against them: for their bellies (which made buttons already for feare of paying their interest) had no cares, as wee know no mans belly hath, according to the common saying. One brother was moued to accuse another, the wife to accuse her husband, the husband the wife; parents to appeale their owne children, yea to be their tormentors, hang-men and executio∣ners, for default of others. They of the Inquisition (as they are called) had their spies abroad in all quarters, to whom they gaue the watchword. No witnesses might be refused though neuer such theeues, murderers, malefactors (nay contrarily they often escaped scotfree in recompence of their false depositions.) They gaue their word to such as were accused or suspected, to the end they might toule them in, but thought it a sinne to keepe promise with them, alleadging for themselues this goodly text, Haereticis fides non est seruanda. Others were euen halfe dead before they came into the tormentors hands, comming forth of dungeons where they had bene encountred by toades and such like vermine: yea sometimes they came old men out of prison, who were yong when they went in. They that caried alms to the prisoners, were permitted to relieue all, saue those that were imprisoned for matter of religion. And he that said, he pitied them, was in great danger, though

he had no more pitie of them then of a dog. Whereupon I remember a staffe of a dozen verses made by a learned man endowed with rare gifts, which yet do flou∣rish in him, in which regard he is greatly beloued of the godly, and extremely ha∣ted of the wicked.

Liset monté dessus sa mule Trouue vn pourceau demi brulé: Tout so••dain sa beste recule. Comme s'ell'en ••ust appellé: En fin, tant y ••ut reculé, Que monsieur Liset en piquant, Parcillement & quant & quant Trencha vn chemi•• tout nouueau. Vicil pourri au rouge museau, Deshonneur du siecle où nous sommes, Ta beste a pitié d'vn porceau, Et tu n'as point pitié des hommes.

That is,

Liset mounted on his moyle, As he went along the way, Came where an hog on burning lay. His mule began straight to recoile, As if she did the fact detest, Or fear'd to hurt her fellow beast. So long, so farre she backward fled, That Liset spurd her till she bled. Yet still perforce she drew him backe, Vntill he tooke another tracke. Thou measell wretch, with sauce-fleume face, Of this our age the iust disgrace: Thy beast cannot abide an hog should bren, And yet thou tak'st no ruth on liuing men.

And now that we are speaking of Liset, what will posterity say (thinke we) when they shall heare of a burning chamber? We may assure our selues it will be diuersly construed. The greater part (no doubt) will iudge it to be the name of some cham∣ber in hell, at leastwise in our Ancestors Purgatory. I omit to speake of cruelties practised in secret, as also of the confiscation of the goods of the condemned, and often of those that were not condemned, yea sometimes of such as were not so much as accused (so easie a matter it was to arraigne and condemne them.) Not∣withstanding, I may not with silence passe ouer a kind of cruelty, which I am per∣swaded Phalaris himselfe would haue wondered at, viz. that they inflicted the last and greatest torment vpon them by fire (as Phalaris did,) but first they cut out their tongues, bereauing them of the ease they might haue by speech, which Pha∣laris permitted to those whom he tormented: and not so only, but hauing cut out their tongues, they gagged them, that so they might make no noise at all, but be as mute as fishes. Neither was it safe for any to say, they pitied them, or to make any shew or semblance thereof, much lesse to commend the constancy of those who had the meanes left them to manifest it in the middest of their torments.

9 Now when I say that they vsed such and such cruelty, it doth not thereup∣on follow but that greater is practised at this day. But it is because this cruell per∣secution

is not so vniuersall: seeing there is not in some places (God be thanked) wood enough to be found, to continue the fires of former times. For our Sauiour hath giuen the same vertue to the ashes of these Martyrs, which some affirme to be in the ashes of the Phoenix, and that in farre greater measure: seeing the ashes of a Phoenix ingender but a Phoenix: whereas the ashes of a faithfull seruant of Christ breedeth and bringeth forth a number of others.

10 Now then let posteritie iudge (which can better iudge without partiali∣ty or passion) whether Herodotus do record any folly so strange and extreamly foo∣lish as the forenamed, practised and endured by those who haue so long lent their eares (and do euen at this day) to such abuses. And on the other side, whether he report any thing halfe so strange or incredible as this, viz. that the detecting of such abuses (like to yong childrens sport) should cost so many thousand men their liues. To conclude, I beseech God in the name of his sonne Iesus Christ our Lord, that posterity (to whom I appeale as to my competent Iudge) may neuer see such abuses as these be, otherwise then in pa∣per, as here they are to be seene.

Finis coronat opus.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Or tolibant••
• * 1.2

  With her great gaping gorget.
• * 1.3

  A quatrain or staffe of soure ver••es.
• * 1.4

  M. Magd. words.
• * 1.5

  Martha speakes.
• * 1.6

  Magd again
• * 1.7

  Meno•• words.
• * 1.8

  French they went▪ but not so sutable to the story.
• * 1.9

  The grace of the cōcent consisteth in y^t Amphiboly or ambiguity of the phrase on n'y void goutte, &c. which signi∣fieth either a darke place where a man can see no∣thing: or a void & empty place where a man hath no∣thing▪ in the latter sense it is here vsed by this cun∣ning beggar.
• * 1.10

  Al. S. Pam∣phagus.
• * 1.11

  The conceit cannot be ex∣pressed in En∣glish by reasō of the homo∣nymi•• of the word sage fem∣me▪ which sig∣nifieth as well a midwife as a wise & pru∣dent woman.
• * 1.12

  The white-flaw.
• * 1.13

  Entre Paris & Lyon.
• * 1.14

  Mortui non mordent.
• * 1.15

  Or, Toli∣bant.
• * 1.16

  Here Steph. did either for∣get himselfe, or meant to speake the ••heto∣••ically with∣out a redditiō; for the sen∣tence is 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.
• * 1.17

  Al▪ amice.
• * 1.18

  Al. cupa.
• * 1.19

  The diuell take all those that eate flesh in Lent: or, they shall all go to the di∣uell.