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.

CHAP. XXI. Of the lechery and whoredome of the Popish Cleargie.

FIrst therefore to begin with whoredome: let vs see to what height it is growne since Menots time. Est filia seducta (saith he, fol. 82. col. 3.) quae fuit per annum inclusa cum sacerdote cum poto & cochlcari (at bed and boord) hodie venit ad confessionem: vis dicere quòd cras debet ire ad dormiendū cum Canonico, vel cū alio sacerdote, & sic perseuerare toto tempore vitae suae? Moreouer he saith that the first prey that souldiers sought for whē they entred any towne, was Priests lēmans (or concubines.) But if I durst be so bold, I wold speake of the infamous tribute which was wont to be exacted of Priests, to the end they might be dispenced with for keeping of lēmans, which hath also borne a shameful name. And such as desire to know the originall of such sweet doings, may here see it. In the first Councel of Toledo (which was holdē (as the story saith) in the raigne of the Emperors Arcadius and Honorius:) to the end it might appeare what holy spirit was then president in Councels among a nūber of Prelates there assembled, this canon was agreed vpon for the keeping of Concubines. Caeterùm is qui non ha∣bet vxorem, & pro vxore concubinam habet, à communione non repellatur; Tamen vt vnius mulieris, aut vxoris, aut concubinae, (vt ei placuerit) sit coniunctione contentus. And about two hundred yeares after, Isidore (as Gratian quoteth him in his great dunghill of decrees, dist. 34.) hath written hereof in these words: Christiano non di∣cam plurimas, sed nec duas simul habere licitū est, nisi vnam tantùm, aut vxorē, aut certè loco vxor••s (si coniux acest) concubinam. Whereupon Priests inferred, that seeing such liberty was granted to common Christians by vertue of this text, they which made others Christians had a larger priuiledge, and so haue vtterly reiected ma∣riage, as too strict a rule. But as for keeping of concubines, they so notoriously a∣bused themselues and their neighbours wiues, that Germany (in the raigne of the Emperour Maximilian) amongst many other grieuances against the Church of Rome (called Grauamina) exhibited two to this effect (concerning the foresaid tri∣bute) grau. 75. Insuper etiam clericos religiosos{que} & saeculares, accepto ab eisdem annuo censu, publicè cum suis concubinis, pellicibus & alijs id genus meretricibus illegitimè co∣habitare, liberos{que} procreare sinunt. Againe, grau. 91. Item in locis plerisque Episcopi & corum officiales non solùm tolerant sacerdotum concubinatum, dummodo certa persolua∣tur pecunia, sed & sacerdotes continentes, & qui absque concubinis degunt, concubina∣tus censum persoluere cogunt, asserentes Episcopum pecuniae indigum esse: quâ solutâ, lice∣re sacerdotibus vt vel coelibes permaneant vel concubinas alant. But they not content with their concubines or whores, haue further by subtill sleights abused honest and chast matrons. For proofe whereof the Queene of Nauarre relateth a very memorable and tragicall history, which I will here briefly set downe. There was a Franciscan lodging in the house of a gentleman of Perigort (whom the Frier ruled

at his pleasure, and by reason that he was his confessor, was very inward with him) who being priuie and after a sort author of the purpose which the gentleman had to lie that night with his wife, (deliuered but 3. weekes before) played his part so well, that he came before the appointed time in stead of her husband. And hauing satisfied his lust, went away vnknowne vnto her, because he spake neuer a word: & going presently to the porter, willed him to open the gate, and to helpe him to his horse, making him easily beleeue what he listed, by reasō of the great credit he was in. Afterward came her husband at the time appointed; where she (thinking it had bin he who was newly departed from her) could not refraine, but vsed certaine speeches vnto him, wherby he perceiued the knauish part that had bin playd him. And because there lodged none in that part of the house but his wiues brother & the Franciscan, he suspected the Frier, and hyed him straight to his chamber, but found him not, which greatly increased his suspition. But hauing spoken with the porter, he was fully perswaded that it was he indeed. Whereupon he returned back to bring his wife word how the matter stood: which did so exceedingly perplexe her, and driue her into such a desperate & furious fit, that being there all alone (her husband hauing left her to pursue the Frier) she hanged her selfe: and as she strug∣led too and fro in the agony of this cruell death, she killed her little babe, with a blow of her foot. Who being ready to giue vp the ghost, cried out so loud, that it awaked a woman lying in the chamber, who hauing beheld this pitifull spectacle, all amazed and affrighted ranne to looke for her mistris brother: who being come, and seeing his sister in this lamentable estate, after many outcries and deepe sighes asked her who it was that had committed that horrible fact; she answered she knew not, but this she knew for certen, that none came into the chamber but her ma∣ster. Wherupon he presently ransacked euery corner of the house to find him out: and finding him not, was the rather perswaded that he and none but he had com∣mitted the murther. Thereupon he tooke horse and hotly pursued him, and wat∣ching him by the way as he returned from following the Franciscan (whom he could not ouertake) he no sooner saw him but calling him dastard and villaine, drew vpon him. The other (hauing no leisure to enquire the cause of such an as∣sault) was faine to stand vpon his guard. And thus they continued foining and fighting, till in the end, what with bleeding, what with wearinesse, they were con∣strained to surcease. Then the gentleman vnderstanding of his brother in law, that he was innocent and ignorant of the fact, and hearing what the Franciscan had done, and how that whilest he was pursuing him, this other mischiefe had happe∣ned, he cried him mercy for wounding of him, and getting him on his horse (as well as he could) brought him to his house, where he died the next morning, con∣fessing to his kinsfolks and acquaintance that himselfe was the cause of his owne death. Howbeit his brother in law was counselled for satisfying of the law, to sue for his pardon to King Francis the first, which he obtained. By which story we see that the inordinate lust of a Monke was the death of three persons. But we shall hereafter heare of a more horrible fact committed by another of the same coate: a Frier of the same fry, who with his owne hands committed three murthers to at∣chieue his mischieuous purpose, which was to haue his pleasu••e of a gentlewo∣man of the house where he lay: for the effecting whereof, his purpose was to con∣uey her to his couent. But I will reserue this narration for the Chapter where I in∣tend to speake of murthers and manslaughters. Meane while this one thing I must needs say by the way, that it was an vsual thing with those displing Friers in former times to conuey gentlewomen to their Cloisters, stealing them away either in the

Church (when for deuotion they stayed somewhat longer then their fellowes) or in some other place where they might do it conueniently. As may appeare by that knowne storie, of a gentlewoman who was rescued by her husband as she passed by his house coming from a couent of the Franciscans (where she had bin long time prisoner) to go to another, there to be exchanged for another woman; being conducted by certaine ghostly fathers, apparelled and pouleshorne as they were. But lest any should thinke that there neither is, nor euer was any such danger for gentlewomen to fall into the hands of these false Fryers: I am not in such hast but that I can tell you what befell a butcher of Strasbourgh, some few yeares before the Franciscans were expelled thence. How that hauing lost his wife, & thinking she had bin dead (and so she was indeed to him, but not to the Franciscans who kept her cum poto & cochleari, at bed and boord, as Menot speaketh) seeing a No∣uice which came ordinarily to the shambles with a ghostly father, he was wont to say, that he did so wel resemble his wife, that had he not bin perswaded she were dead, he should thinke it was she disguised in strange attire. In the end it was well knowne that the poore butcher had good cause to thinke so: and that this nouice, that is to say, one that wore the habit of a Franciscan nouice, was his wife indeed, whom he thought he had lost. Which vile villany God in his prouidence suffered not to be detected till that the abuses of Popish religiō were discouered, for which as well the Franciscans as the other Monks, together with all the Cannibals of the Crucifix were expelled the citie. Many other examples there are of the like feates which these good vpholders and fauourers of Saint Francis were wont to play. And the foresaid Queene of Nauarre recordeth a pleasant story to this purpose, of two Franciscans, who (because they neuer carry mony about them) would needs haue rauished their ferrywoman, and payd their fare in that payment: howbeit their good will (which they could not put in execution) was for that time reputed for the deed. But sith this good Princesse hath done vs and succeeding poste∣ritie so great a pleasure, as to take the paines to record certaine stories as pregnant proofes of the chastitie of these venerable Friers, and to publish them in print, I wil omit the most notable of all the rest, viz. of a Franciscan in a towne of Perigord, who at the mariage of his hosts daughter, caused meate to be serued into his cham∣ber for himselfe and his fellow Frier, making scruple to sit at table with the rest of the guests; yet made no conscience after supper to go to bed with the bride in humilitie, taking the same paines with her in charitie which he knew the bride∣groome meant to take. Notwithstanding I may not omit a fine feate played by a Franciscan, who maried his companion to an Italian gentlewoman, and so cun∣ningly handled the matter that he had fiue hundred duckats for his paines, which his fellow had receiued for his wiues dowrie: & brought it so about, that he peace∣ably enioyed her, and receiued all kind entertainment at her and her mothers hands (who was a widow) which a new maried man could in reason expect. This iolly Franciscan (being ghostly father to the widow) had brought her to so good a beleefe in his gods, that she verily thought her daughter had met with a better match then possibly she could haue wished. And the better to perswade her (al∣though he needed no great Rhetorick for this purpose, considering the good opi∣nion she had conceiued of him, by reason of the great deuotion she bare to his or∣der) he vsed this speech vnto her, (suting the request which she had made vnto him to find out a fit match for her daughter:) I am fully perswaded (quoth he) that God hath sent his Angell Raphael vnto me (as he did to Tobias) to find out a good husband for your daughter. For (I assure you) I haue met with the honestest

yong gentleman that is this day in Italy, who hath somtimes seene your daughter, & is so far gone in loue, that as I was to day at my prayers, God sent him vnto me, to shew me the great desire he hath that this match may go forward. And there∣fore knowing his house, kinsfolkes, and honest demeanour so well, I promised him I would breake the matter vnto you. See here the preface which this ghostly fa∣ther vsed to this silly widdow. But to set a faire glosse vpon the matter, and to take away all suspicion of double dealing, he further added: True it is, there is one fault which I find in him, & it is but one: The thing is this; going about to rescue one of his friends whom his enemie would haue slaine, he drew his sword thinking to haue parted the fray: but it so fortuned that his friend slue the other, whereupon (though he had striken neuer a stroake) he fled the Countrey because he was pre∣sent at the murther:* 1.1 and by the aduice of his kinsfolkes hath withdrawne himselfe into this city in a schollers attire, where he continues as a stranger vnknowne; & is so to remaine till such time as his friends shall take order for his returne, (which he hopeth they will do very shortly. And therefore the mariage must secretly be so∣lemnized; and you must permit him to frequent publicke Lectures in the day time, and euery night to sup and lodge with you. The silly old widow found great probabilitie in all this tale, (for as the common saying is, It is an easie matter to de∣ceiue where there is no deceit) so that vpon these conditions they were betrothed the same day, and at Masse after midnight were maried, and the mariage being consummate, liued together (for a time) with mutuall loue and liking one of ano∣ther: so that her mother said, she had great cause to thank God. But Dominus vobis∣cum vttered in the Masse by this so honest a young gentleman (who was both a Franciscan & a Masse-priest) began to marre the market. For this new maried mi∣stris going with her mother to heare Masse in the couent of the Franciscans (ac∣cording to the great deuotion which she bare to Saint Francis, as hath bene said) as this gentle Sir Iohn turned himselfe to say Dominus vobiscum, she poore soule was stricken with greater astonishment then euer bel-founder was, telling her mo∣ther that the Priest which said masse was her husband, at least one that much re∣sembled him. Her mother making great scruple once to imagine that such holy men would vse such false dice, and thinking withall that such a thought could not be entertained without a mortall sinne, laboured to draw her daughter from that opinion. But Ite, missa est, strucke it dead. For turning himselfe the second time, he did not onely confirme her in her opinion, but made her mother also of the same mind: who notwithstanding would not fully beleeue it till the euening, that she came and found him in bed with his wife; where (according to the plot which they had laid) she held his hands as though it had bene in sport, whilest her daugh∣ter pulled off his night-cap. Vnder which finding his shauen crowne, they needed not to make any further doubt whether he was a Priest or no, but rather to deuise how they might be reuenged as wel of him as of the ghostly father; whom the old gentlewoman sent for without delay, making as though she had some great secret to impart vnto him. In the end she deliuered them ouer into the Iudges hands, who (doubtlesse) would neuer haue suffered them to haue escaped so scotfree as they did, but that they were corrupt at the core: as the Queene of Nauarre saith in the end of this narration. But I heard afterwards in Italy, that they acquit them vpon small penance. For in times past they made conscience (as we know) to lay hands vpon these holy men; nay they were glad to rid their hands of them, and to turne them ouer to their gardians, to be dismissed in pace, or otherwise dealt with as they should thinke good. And sithence we are speaking of Italy, I wil here insert

the history of that lecher who played the knaue with one Berengers wife, an Italian Marquesse. This houswife (neuer respecting the noble house whence she was des∣cended) played the harlot with one of her Chaplaines (though a very dandiprat, and exceedingly deformed.) But this companion escaped not so scotfree as his fel∣lowes. For being bewrayed by the barking of a dogge, he was taken and stripped starke naked, and had that part cut off wherewith he had offended. Which happe∣ned in the time of Pope Steuen the eight, about the yeare of our Lord 941. But to returne to Franciscans: I haue not forgotten the history of the gray Frier (calling himselfe Saint Francis) who played his part so well with a silly superstitious wo∣man, that she admitted him to her bed: but before he could bring his resolution to execution, the curtaine was drawne, and the play ended otherwise then he ex∣pected, and by those whom he neuer suspected. For Saint Peter (as porter of Para∣radise) and Saint Thomas (as one who would neuer haue beleeued such a matter) came to seeke him euen to his beds side, and sent him packing after another man∣ner then he came thither. I haue not (I say) forgotten this story, but reserue it to his proper place.

2 Now these gallants not content to play the knaues in graine, and to exceed all the ruffians that euer entred the Huleu of Paris in obscenitie of speeches and filthy conuersation, haue bin bold (and that in open pulpits) before the crucifixe and all the men and women Saints there present (keeping demure countenances in looking on and saying nothing) to vse such modest talke as were enough to make all the whores (at least the curtizans of Venice and Rome) to blush for shame. Witnesse a Franciscan of Tours, who preaching vpon Easter tuesday in a village called S. Martin le beau, nigh the citie Bleré in Touraine, and recommending him selfe and his sute vnto them, said, Madames, I am bound to giue you thankes for your liberality to our poore couent. But shall I tell you? you haue not considered of all our necessities. And then he vsed such a villanous speech, that is, so besee∣ming his cloister (according to the old saying, A man is not to looke for grapes of thornes, or figs of thistles) and so vnworthy all chast eares, that I will not staine my paper therewith. And if perhaps I forget my selfe so much in other places as to blot paper with the like, I shall desire the Reader not to take offence thereat, nor to gather thereupon that I take pleasure in the recitall of such hideous and horrible villanies; but to perswade himselfe that the onely desire I haue to decipher out vil∣laines by their villanies, and wicked men by their wickednesse (to the end that the knowledge of them may breed a bitter detestation of such monstrous abominati∣on) hath moued me to imitate the Lacedemonians, who teaching their children so∣brietie and temperance, shewed them their slaues drunken, that seeing their beast∣ly behauiour, they might in their youth grow to a lothing and detestation of their drunkennesse. Notwithstanding if there be any curious head, desirous to know what this rotten speech was, which the Monke vttered, he shall find it (with sun∣dry others) in the narrations of the Queene of Nauarre, whose meaning (in pub∣lishing those Nouuelles) was to let posterity vnderstand the notorious wickednesse of these false Friers, who were reputed not only honest men, but euen pety Saints. Now as the Satyrist saith, Nemo repente fuit turpissimus: so it is certen that their loose licencious life & dissolute demeanour hath dayly increased & growne by degrees. But we haue seene it in the ruffe, especially sithence this rascall rout is come to this passe, to desire (as one writeth) that they might be permitted in their confessions to handle those parts & members of the body, which had bin instruments in com∣mitting the sinne which they confessed. And when a Bishop told one of them (that

had put vp this petition) what an absurd and shamefull thing it would be for men and women to shew their priuities: he answered, that if it were accounted no dis∣honesty for confessors to contemplate at the same instant with the eyes of the mind (which are far more pure and precious then the eyes of the body) not onely the parts & members of the body which had committed filthinesse, but the filthy fact it selfe disclosed and layed open vnto them in holy ••hrift; much lesse ought it to be thought a dishonest or vnseemly thing to behold and view them with their bodily eyes. Further, he alleadged that the confessor resembling the spirituall Phi∣sition, ought to feele his patient as well as the bodily Phisition doth his. And these his Scoggin-like scoffes he burnished with blasphemies, prophanely abusing the words of our blessed Sauiour, Go and shew thy self to the Priest: as though the Iewes had bin accustomed to strip off their clothes, and shew themselues naked to the Priest. But to returne to these iolly Preachers: what modest speeches (think we) vse they in priuat, whē they vse such obscene scurrility in publik? When I say in priuat, I meane not onely their owne cloisters, but the cloisters of their most deare, louing and welbeloued sisters: for their maner was to build them neare together. Where∣upon a merry companion tooke occasion to say, Here is the barne, and there are the threshers. Which puts me in mind of that which a ieaster once said to King Henry the second: for when it was debated which way they might best furnish the King with mony, he propounded two. The first was, that if the King would let him weare his crowne by course, he would furnish him with two millions of gold. The second, that he should giue commaundement that all Monks beds should be sold, and the mony brought vnto him. Whereupon the King asking him where the Monks should lie when their beds were sold? with the Nunnes, quoth he. Where∣upon the King replied; But thou considerest not, that there are nothing so many Nunnes as Monks. To which he had this answer at his fingers ends; It is true, if it please your Highnesse (said he) but euery Nun can wel lodge half a dozen Monks at the least.

3 But how comes it to passe (may some say) that these poore Franciscans are more commonly flouted and played vpon then the other fry of Friers? Verily it is not for want of examples as well of other Monks as of simple sir Iohns; but because they beare the world in hand that they haue ascended a note aboue Ela, and attai∣ned a greater degree of holinesse then the rest of this rable, therfore they are more narrowly looked into then the rest. And when the best of them all (who boast themselues to be most holy) are not worth a rush, it must needs follow that the rest are bad enough. Neuerthelesse, for his satisfaction who might haply make such an obiection, I will alleadge some rare examples of simple Sir Iohns, that is, of such as are not Monks, but single soled Priests. First then we are not to wonder that these gallants (especially Curats and Vicars) should go into euery mans house and take toll of their wiues, seeing all men almost (at least the greatest part) kept open house for them, and put them in trust with their wiues, making account that they had to deale with their soules onely, and not with their bodies. In such sort that a simple sot finding a Sir Iohn at worke with his wife, durst hardly beleeue (for feare of committing a mortall sinne) that he came thither for any bad intent. Which women knowing wel enough, were not to seeke for an excuse when they chanced to be found at vnawares with their good Curate: as we haue formerly alleadged examples of their craft and subtilty in playing false with their husbands, when and as often as they were taken napping in the fact with one or other of their kind ac∣quaintance. But let vs see what subtill sleights Priests and Monkes had in their

budgets, to passe their wicked purposes, when they met with any obstacle or rub in their way. It is reported of two or three good fellowes (one of which was a kind Curate in a burrough-towne situate in the mountaines betweene Daulphiné and Sauoy) who counselled the good wiues of their parish to faine themselues to be possessed, that when their husbands went on pilgrimage for the dispossessing of them, they might commit them to their custody till their returne, that so they might not be niggards of their stoles, nor their other instruments which might do their wiues good. We reade also of sundry others through whose counsell women haue fained themselues sicke of one disease or other, whereunto their sexe is vsu∣ally subiect, that vnder colour of applying to them their relikes, they might apply vnto them some other thing. As a Minorite Frier in Sicily serued the yong wife of an old Phisition, named Agatha. For she hauing in her confession layd open to this Monke some part of her mind, as namely that she bare no great affection to her husband: and hauing giuen sufficient intimation (at least to one of so quicke a conceit, as without casting of her water could soone perceiue where she was pai∣ned) that she longed for change of pasture, was perswaded by him (before he had absolued her) that the next day when her husband was gone to visit his patients, she should faine her selfe sicke of the mother (as indeed she was somewhat subiect vnto it) and that she should call for the helpe of my Lord S. Bernardine: which she did. VVhereupon they intreated this Minorite to bring the miraculous relikes of S. Bernardine, and apply them to this poore patient. The Frier being glad that his plot stood in so good terms, foreslowed not his businesse, but coming straight to her beds side, and finding more witnesses there then he desired, told them that he must begin with holy shrift, which was enough to make them all voyde the roome; so that there only remained his companion and the gentlewomans maid. And then was it time both for mistris and maid to go about other matters then confession. Now as they were hard at worke, the poore Phisition came home (not giuing the pedlar of relikes so much time as to put on his breeches, but onely to leape out of bed) and finding these two confessors so neare his wife, beganne to scratch his head, not daring to speake all that he thought. But it strucke him to the heart (poore soule) when after their departure he found one of the Confessors breeches vnder the beds head, as he was tricking vp his wiues pillow. But as the morall was well handled, so the play was farre better acted. For his wife presently preuenting him said: Sweet husband, because the relique of blessed S. Bernardine hath recouered me, I desired the Confessor to leaue it with me, fearing a relapse. The Frier being aduertised by the maid of the starring hole which her mistris had found, (to the end that the Catastrophe might be answerable to the Prologue) re∣turned to fetch his breeches with ringing and chiming of bels, with crosses and holy water, accompanied with all the fry of their fraternity, and namely with the Priour of the house: and hauing taken them out of a faire linnen cloth (in which the sicke soule had wrapped them) he caused all the standers by to kisse them, and first of all the silly noddy her husband: and hauing layd them vp in a shrine, depar∣ted thence with this precious and wonder-working Iewell. Others (as Poggius) re∣port that the breeches of S. Francis couered the knauery of the breeches which the Minorite Frier had left behind him. To the same purpose Boccace writeth of an Abbatesse in Lombardy, who rising in hast from a Priest (with whom she had layen that night) to take one of her Nuns in bed with her Paramot: in stead of her vailes (which some call the psalter) she for haste put on the Priests breches on her head; which the poore Nunne straight perceiuing, as she was to receiue her bene∣dicite

(for the points of the breeches hung downe on either side,) Madame (said she) first tie your coi••e, and then I will be contented to heare whatsoeuer admo∣nition you shall giue me: with that the Abbatesse perceiued what it was, that she had inconsiderately put vpon her head, and there upon changed the copie of her countenance, and was streight in another key. In this history there is one remarka∣ble point, which I may not omit, wherein all agree which relate the same (al∣though they vary somewhat in other circumstances) viz. how this iolly Minorite vnder pretence of shriuing her, tooke occasion to lie with her. This I say is the ra∣ther to be marked, because it confirmeth the saying of that good old Preacher O∣liuer Maillard, who complaineth that after these gallants haue heard womens con∣fessions, and learned who they be that follow the occupation, they run after them. Qui auditis confessiones mulierum, deinde curritis post eas. Howbeit we haue more auncient and authenticall testimonies hereof. For Poggius a Florentine reporteth that there was an Eremite at Padua called Ansimitius (in the raigne of Francis the seuenth, Duke of that city) who being held to be a holy man, corrupted many wo∣men (those especially which were descended of noble houses,) and all vnder co∣lour of confession. And he addeth a very pleasant ieast, how that when this Ere∣mite was detected, he was brought before the Duke, who hauing examined him, caused his secretary to know of him the names of all the womē which he had abu∣sed. Who after he had reckoned vp a great number, such especially as resorted to the Dukes pallace, he sayd, he had told all. But the Secretarie still vrging him to confesse more, and to conceale neuer a one. The poore Eremite fetching a sor∣rowfull sigh, said, Why then (Sir) write downe your owne wife. At which words the Secretary was so astonished, that the pen fell out of his fingers. The Duke on the other side was almost resolued into laughter. But to omit these examples: daily ex∣perience doth sufficiently shew, that auricular confession serued Priests and Monks in stead of nets to catch women withall. For my part I remember wel, I once heard a Priest at Paris vpbraided for lying with a woman in the Church presently after he had shriuen her. I haue also heard of a Curate neare to Vienne in Dauphiné, who was taken (about twelue yeares since) playing the knaue behind the high Altar on good Friday, with a woman whom he had vnder benedicite, with whom he had often playd the like pranke. For punishment of which offence he was sentenced by the Bishop of the Diocesse not to sing Masse for a certaine time. VVhich puts me in mind of a grieuous punishment which an Italian Bishop inflicted vpon a Priest (about forty yeares ago) for his cruel handling of a poore tradesman, in bea∣ting him most barbarously beyond all meane and measure, viz. that he should not set foot in any Church for the space of three moneths. VVhich sentence the ma∣gistrate of the place perceiuing to be ouerpartially giuen in the behalf of the Priest, so encouraged the poore man vnderhand, and heartned him so on, that he was fully resolued to be reuenged. Neither failed he of his purpose: for meeting with his Sir Iohn in a place where he was not able to make his part good, he beat him well and thriftily, restoring him his blowes with aduantage. For which fact being complained of to the magistrate, he commaunded him that he should not set foot in any tauerne for three moneths after. VVhich sentence of the magistrate when it came to the Bishops eare, he was much offended. Howbeit the magistrate (who knew well what he had done) was not mute nor vnprouided of an answer, but re∣plied in this sort: Say, (I beseech you my Lord) do you not thinke it a greater pu∣nishment for him which is wont neuer to lie out of the Tauerne, to be forbidden to go thither for the space of three moneths, then for a Priest to be debarred

for three moneths from coming to Church, which he makes so litle account of, that he could be content for a smal matter neuer to come there al his life long? This story I was the more willing to record, because it doth so well exemplifie the light penance which the other Bishop enioyned the wicked Priest, who was so impu∣dent to play the fornicating Frier (I say not in the Church, but) hard by the high Altar; not vpon Shroue-tuesday, but vpon good Fryday, golden fryday, holy fri∣day, when all men are weeping full sore and bitterly for the poore god which is kept in prison: wherein so much as to laugh, is accounted a venial sinne: and which is more, in the sight of all the he and she Saints in the Church, who turning their faces aside for shame, could notwithstanding see them as well behind as before: To be short, who committed such a crime, for which he deserued (to speake accor∣ding to their cannons) to die fiue hundred deaths, if it were possible. And not∣withstanding this so light and slight a punishment, the Legate of Auinion thought it so great and so grieuous, that he released him thereof. So that M. Curate played the knaue againe with the same woman, and in the same place more freely then e∣uer before, in spight of all that spake against it; neither did he surcease from singing his ordinary Masses, which were found as sauory and toothsome, yea as easie to be digested by those which greedily feed vpō such froth, as the Masses of the maiden∣liest Priest of them all. Now who so lift to make diligent inquiry into all the kna∣ueries committed by these Church-men, shall find them almost infinite. But their punishments so exceeding rare, and (for the most part) so slight and slender, that it was, in a maner, nothing but meere mockery. Whereof to omit other testimonies, we haue a notable president in the Franciscans of Orleans, after that horrible and execrable imposture of theirs, which was since notoriously known to al the world.

4 But leauing this discourse, let vs returne to the whoredomes of these bon companions: and to the end it may appeare that they thought scorne to be inferior to their Prelates in that occupation, let vs heare an incest in the highest degree, cōmitted by a Priest, as it is authentically recorded in the late Queene of Nauarres narrations, yet more briefly then it is there set downe. In a village neare Coignac, called Cherues, a maid (that is, one that was a maid by her owne assertion and in common opinion) sister to the Curate of the parish, was found to be with child. And because she led a very holy life (in outward appearance) she made the com∣mon people easily beleeue that she was great with child by the holy Ghost, and that she was another virgin Mary. This rumor blazed abroad, came to the eares of Charles Earle of Angoulesme (father to King Francis the first) who sent certaine of his seruants thither to make diligent inquiry thereof, because he doubted all went not well, but that there was some false packing amongst them. In whose presence the wench (being about 13. yeares of age) hauing bin before adiured by the Cu∣rate (her brother) vpon her saluation to reueale the truth, and then the second time sworne, answered, I take the body of our Lord here present vpon my saluation, before you my masters, and you my brother, that neuer man touched me more then you. And ha∣uing so said, she receiued the consecrated host. They hearing her take this solemne oath, returned back againe and informed the Earle how the case stood: who hea∣ring their report, thought vpon that which they neuer dreamed of, viz. that it was not without cause that she vsed that forme and manner of oath, that neuer man touched her more then her brother, and tooke it for certaine that it would be found that her brother had gotten her with child. Whereupon he sent them back again, commaunding them to imprison the Curate: which they had no sooner done, but he confessed the fact. So that both of them were burned certaine dayes after

she was deliuered. VVe reade also of one Thomas Abbot of Abingdon, who (not contented to keepe three paramours) had two children by his owne sister.

5 But to ease my self of further labor, in collecting out of sundry authors that which might serue my purpose: I will for this present content my self with a short treatise in French (wherein this story is set downe) taken out of an English booke, containing an inuentory (or catalogue) of the villanies discouered in the visitatiō of Monasteries, Couents, Collegiate Churches, and other religious houses in En∣gland, by the cōmandement of king Henry the eight: where (to let passe their other knaueries) the whoredoms, adulteries, incests and sodomies of Priests and Monks of those houses are set forth, with their names and sirnames, as it here followeth. In the Monastery of Belle or Battel in the Dioces of Chichester, these Sodomites were found at the first visitation, Iohn Abbot, Richard Salchurst, Thomas Cuthbert, William March, Iohn Hasting, Gregory Champion, Clement Westfield, Iohn Crosse, Thomas Crambrooke, Thomas Bayll, Iohn Hamfield, Iohn Iherom, Clement Grigge, Richard To∣uey, and Iohn Austine. Other Sodomites in the Church of Canterbury among the Monkes of Saint Benet are these, Richard Godmershan, William Litchfield, Christo∣pher Iames, Iohn Goldingston, Nicholas Clement, William Cawston, Iohn Ambrose, Tho∣mas Farleg, and Thomas Morton. Other Sodomites in the Cathedrall Church of Chichester, Iohn Champion and Roger Barham. Item, in the Monastery of Saint Au∣gustine, Thomas Barham sodomite. The catalogue of whoremasters and adulterers is too long, and therefore I will speake onely of their stoutest champions, that is, of those who kept many whores: some of which, like towne-buls, not contenting themselues with a round halfe dozen, had nine, others eleuen, (in remembrance of the eleuen thousand virgins) others thirteene, and some twenty. But because I will not depriue them of the honour giuen to their fellowes, these are their names. In the Church of Canterbury among the Monkes of S. Benet, Christopher Iamys played the whoremonger onely with three maried women, William Abbot of Bristow had but foure whores, whereof one was maried. In Windsor Castle Nicholas Whyden priest, had but foure. In the same place George Whitethorne had fiue, Nicholas Spoter fiue, Robert Hunne fiue, Robert Danyson sixe, Richard Priour of Maydenbeadley fiue. In the Monastery of Shulbred in the Diocesse of Chichester, George Walden Priour had seuen, Iohn Standney seuen, Nicholas Duke fiue. In the Monastery of Bathe, Richard Lincombe had seuen, whereof three were maried: he was a Sodomite besides. In the Cathedrall Church of Chichester, Iohn Hill had but thirteene. This is much (may some say:) but what is it to Iohn White Priour of Bermondsey, who had twenty? It is commonly thought that there were aboue 400. Couents of sundry sorts of Monkes and Nunnes in England (besides those that belonged to the begging Friers, which were nigh two hundred.) Now let the Reader calculate, how many bastards there were then in England, I meane Monks bastards begottē of strumpets? And if there had bin a visitation of Religious hou∣ses throughout France, Italy and Spaine at the same time, let the Reader iudge what sweet doings would haue bin found. At the same time I say, because their dealing in the darke was not then so plainly discouered and layd open, as it hath bin of late time: and therefore they had farre better meanes to defray such charges, and to bleare the eyes of the world, then euer they had since. Hitherto I haue said no∣thing of Germany: for albeit it be of greater extent then any of the former, yet it is thought to haue bin more barren of such bastard slips (I meane these Friers brats) and lesse pestered with such vermine. Howbeit we need not doubt but that they also haue followed the game as well as their fellowes. At least this we reade in the

arraignement of the Iacobins of Berne, that they were found feasting and making merry in the Couent among fine dames, not in the habit of Monks, but of gentle∣men.

6 Further, there go sundry other reports of Franciscans and Iacobins, who haue bin taken leading their strumpets about with them attired like nouices. And verily it was a politick course of theirs, to permit their displing Friers to leade noui∣ces about in this sort: for vnder that pretext they had alwayes a Ganimede or a whore by their side. Howbeit I perswade my selfe that since a Franciscans nouice was deliuered of a child in a ferry boate, as they crossed ouer the riuer Garumna, (a fact almost as strange as the deliuery of Pope Ioane) they haue bin a litle more wary in obseruing the old rule, Si non castè, tamen cautè, If not chastly, yet charily.

7 Now it is not of late yeares onely (in this age, or in that wherein Menot li∣ued) that these stoned Priests haue manifested by their practises, how the poore people were abused, in beleeuing that there was as great difference between them and Seculars in regard of fleshly concupiscence, as betweene cocks and capons. For in a booke written against the Carmelites, about the yeare 1270. (called The firy dart) this (to omit other particulars) was layd to their charge. The principall cause of all your gadding to and fro, in towne and country, is not to visit the fatherlesse, but damsels; not widowes which are in griefe and anguish of spirit, but yong wan∣ton wenches and Beguines, Nunnes, and naughty packs. He that thus reproued and admonished them, being the generall of their order, who since that time resig∣ned vp his place, and forsooke his cowle also, as some affirme. Guil. de sancto Amore, who liued about the yeare 1256. saith no lesse; The begging Friers (saith he) leade Beguines about the country with them, which way soeuer they go: groūding their practise vpon the place of S. Paul, Haue we not power to leade about a sister, a wife. See here (gentle Reader) what these silly soules said in those dayes. But what would they haue said (may we thinke) if they had heard of such a fry of fornicating Fry∣ers, as hath bin mentioned? Moreouer, to the end they might more finely flout both God and men, they haue made no bones, (that I may adde one thing more touching their Beguines whom they caried about with them) to forge and frame a religion, according to which their Monks and Nuns (after they had made some proofe of their continency) lay wallowing together like swine in the filth of their fornication: in the meane time bearing the world in hand, that though they com∣panied together in this sort, yet that they were no more tempted with carnall con∣cupiscence then two logs of wood lying one by the other.

8 And thus much of the pranks playd by these Frier-dockers. Now in win∣ding vp of this Chapter I will resolue this one question, Why Monks and Fryers are called Beaux-peres, Ghostly fathers. One considering their doings in the darke, and insisting vpon the word peres, that is, fathers, made these verses in imitation of a Latin Distich:

Or ça Iacobins, Cordeliers, Augustins, Carmes, bordeliers, D'où vient qu'on vous nomme Beaux-peres? C'est qu'à l'ombre du Crucifix, Souuent faisons filles ou filz, En accointant des belles meres.

That is,

Ye Iacobins, Carmelites, Cordeliers, Augustines, and all ye fornicating Friers,

How came ye by the ghostly fathers names? For vnder the Crucifixe and high Aulters, We wont to get vs sonnes and daughters, In kind acquaintance with our ghostly dames.

But to leaue ieasting (for the author of this Hexastich was merrily disposed, albeit he slaundered them (as we know) but with a matter of truth:) I am of opinion that Beaux-peres is all one as if a man should say Beaux-vieillards, Faire old men; which I do the rather thinke, because 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 or 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 (a word of the vulgar Greek) seemeth to be corrupted of 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, that is faire, and 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, that is an old man, which Epithete argues that they haue alwayes liued at their ease. For we call him a faire old man, who maugre his gray beard, is yet fresh and flourishing, the faire li∣neaments of whose face are not wrinkled with labour & care. And verily Monks, especially mendicants (those at Venice aboue the rest) are the fairest old men in all Italy: though there they be onely called peres, fathers, and not Beaux-peres. And it would (no doubt) be as goodly a sight to see Monks in France, if they would let their beards grow as Italians do. Howbeit that which hath bin spoken, is not that any man should enuy them.

Notes

• * 1.1

  The French word signifies murther, and therefore I haue kept the propriety of the word: for otherwise it should be called man∣slaughter ra∣ther then murther.