OH out alas, my minde is sore troubled, I am gréeued at the hearte, I knowe not what to doe, day and night I passe ouer with grée­uous complaintes, be­wayling the time wherein I was borne little rest I take, and lesse meate I eate. In the day time I walke the faire gréene [Page]fieldes oppressed so sore with diuers thoughts, that no man is able to assuage my paine and dolour, but only my deare father. Wherefore I thinke it best to vnsold to him the cause of this my griefe. Oh Father, whom, next vnder God and my Prince, I loue aboue all earthly things, whom I obey likewise, & whome I reuerence with all humilitie. Oh father, I say, you are hée that hath begot­ten mee, nourished mée, and brought mée vp from mine infancie in learning and vertue: you loued mée dearely, as a Fa­ther shoulde loue his sonne. These fiue and twentie yéeres I liued vnder your regiment and all this while I wanted neither meate nor drinke, I lacked no apparell nor money in my purse, I had all things at my will, and at my request: Suche a father you were vnto mée, as to leaue I am verie sorie. And yet a­las I must leaue you and depart from you, I cannot choose: I am so constrai­ned, will I, nill I, yea I must néedes forsake you. And where heeretofore I haue had plentie of all thinges belon­ging to the bodie, hereafter I am like to [Page]féele scarcitie to the maintenance of this my litle corps. Notwithstanding, the verie griefe of minde wherein I lan­guishe, mooueth mée perforce to craue your fauour and licence to bee absent from you, for thrée or foure yeeres space.

What sonne Trisander, howe commeth this to passe, that you are so vexed in minde, and your countenance so soone changed? Is it, because you are loth to dwell with mée? What haue I done against you? Haue I gréeuously offended you? or haue I withdrawne my fatherly affectiō from you, that shoulde prouoke you to be so sad, & so sodeinly too séeke to depart from mée? If I haue no­thing degenerated frō the nature of a fa­ther, what shoulde then mooue you to craue my fauour to be absent from mée? I pray you good sonne tell mée the cause of this your passioned mind: and without dissimulation vtter the same, then shall vnquiet thoughts and troublesome ima­ginations auoide from mée. Speake on, bée not afraide.

You aske louing father, why I am in suche perpleritie of minde, [Page]fieldes oppressed so sore with diuers thoughts, that no man is able to assuage my pains and dolour, but only my deare father. Wherefore I thinke it best to vnsold to him the cause of this my griefe. Oh Father, whom, next vnder God and my Prince, I loue aboue all earthly things, whom I obey likewise, & whome I reuerence with all humilitie. Oh father, I say, you are hée that hath begot­ten mee, nourished mée, and brought mée vp from mine infancie in learning and vertue: you loued mée dearely, as a Fa­ther shoulde loue his sonne. These fiue and twentie yéeres I liued vnder your regiment and all this while I wanted neither meate nor drinke, I lacked no apparell nor money in my purse, I had all things at my will, and at my request: Suche a father you were vnto mée, as to leaue I am verie sorie. And yet a­las I must leaue you and depart from you, I cannot choose: I am so constrai­ned, will I, nill I, yea I must néedes forsake you. And where heeretofore I haue had plentie of all thinges belon­ging to the bodie, hereafter I am like to [Page]féele scarcitie to the maintenance of this my litle corps. Notwithstanding, the verie griefe of minde wherein I lan­guishe, mooueth mée perforce to craue your fauour and licence to bee absent from you, for thrée or foure yeeres space.

What sonne Trisander, howe commeth this to passe, that you are so vexed, in minde, and your countenance so soone changed? Is it, because you are loth to dwell with mée? What haue I done against you? Haue I gréeuously offended you? or haue I withdrawne my fatherly affectiō from you, that shoulde prouoke you to be so sad, & so sodeinly too séeke to depart from mée? If I haue no­thing degenerated frō the nature of a fa­ther, what shoulde then mooue you to craue my fauour to be absent from mée? I pray you good sonne tell mée the cause of this your passioned mind: and without dissimulation vtter the same, then shall vnquiet thoughts and troublesome ima­ginations auoide from mée. Speake on, bée not afraide.

You aske louing father, why I am in suche perplexitie of minde, [Page]and why my visage is so altered. You de­maund, whether by your meanes I was so sore offended, that thereof my griefe, sorrowe, and woefull anguishe shoulde arise. You aske what mooued me to aske your leaue to depart from you. I tell you vnfeinedly, that I haue founde you euer a louing father, and suche a one as ne­uer offended me, or did otherwise then a father should haue done vnto his natural child. But why I séeke licence to be ab­sent frō you for the space of thrée or foure yeares, is a desire that I haue to goe to strange Countries, to veiw those things whiche are not to be séene in thie my na­tiue soile.

Oh my sonne, what? haue you greater desire to trauel abrode amongest vnacquainted people, then to tary at home with your familiar friēds. But is there no other thing that embel­deneth you to forsake mee your father, & to wander you know not whither?

Yes father, the loue y ^e I haue to diuersitie of tongues, & the hope y ^e I haue to bée instructed therein, is partly y ^e cause of this great desire which I haue to for­sake [Page]my natiue countrie for a while.

I sée now my sonne, you de­sire to learne languages. It is very well, & I cōmende your intent. But for this so light a cause, would you depart from me, séeing you may learn lāguages at home?

How can I, louing father attaine to the knowledge of languages at home, séeing that our Countrie men vse but one kinde of spéech?

Though the people of this land haue but one language in generall, yet some there be, as merchants, Gentle­men, & others, that vnderstande & speake diuers languages, and by suche you may bée instructed very well, without trauel­ling any further.

By what meanes, (I pray you father tell me) came they to the knowe­ledge and vnderstanding of so many lan­guages?

I tell you, by trauelling to farre countries.

If they learned this and that language, by going to this and that Countrie, wherefore then (louing father) will you denie me leaue so to tra­uell as they haue trauelled that I may [Page]learne as they haue learned, this & that language?

They were merchants, and so are not you.

But you haue saide that there were Gentlemen, as well as Mer­chants, that could speake diuers langua­ges. These Gentlemen in going from kingdome to kingdome, haue gotten this knowledge of tongues, which mer­chants haue obtained. Being a Gentle­mā then, as yée know me to bee, graunt me leaue to trauel, as they haue trauel­led.

Doth the loue of languages inforce you to forsake mée, & to wander in forreigne soiles, is there nothing else that persuadeth you herevnto.

I haue tolde you my father, that it is the desire of lāguages y ^e thus as you sée disquieteth my mind, and mooueth mée so earnestly to craue leaue to visite other Countries.

If there bée nothing else than the desire of languages that driueth you into this perplexitie of mind, I haue an especial friend, that hath béen a great traueller this longe time, and nowe is [Page]returned home: hée I am assured will teach you my sonne what language you can desire.

Albeit you haue suche a friend louing father, that can teache mée what language I can wish, yet I cannot so soone be taught to speake readily, and perfectly the vnderstanding of any lang­uage. But if I were beyond the seas, I could in small continuance of time and with little paines, learne the language of that countrie whereto I trauelled.

I sée sonne you will not be persuaded to tarrie at home with mée, and enioye that which shall bee left you after my death. Oh how vnfortunate am I, that am father to such a sonne as will not be ruled by my counsell, nor per­suaded to forsake his fonde fansie. Oh sonne, I loue you so dearelie, that loth I am you shoulde depart from mee, and I am so careful of your life, both bodily and ghostly, that by my persuasion, aduice & counsel, I would haue you preuēt y ^e euils & dangers incident to trauellers, by tar­rying at home. Aske whatsoéuer I haue of worldly substance to set you forwards [Page]amongst y ^e best of your degrée, yea boldly craue it, nothing shalt thou wāt: if thou haue a pleasure to hunt, and hawke, I wil giue thée leaue, and maintaine thée so to doe, thou shalt haue all thinges at will and commaundement if I may procure y ^e same for thée. Why wilt thou then departe, & refuse all these proffers, ioyes, and pleasures? be aduised my good sonne, take counsell in time before it be too late, & whē time & place wil not serue me when and where to helpe thée.

Oh father your mourn­full wordes doe cause my heart to bléede. What with sorrow and pain, what with griefe and anguishe the very teares tri­cle downe mine eies. Oh howe heauie is my heart to heare such woordes? Why are you more pensiue then others haue bene, when their sonnes haue forsooken them? be not (I pray you) more vnwil­ling to graunt me leaue to depart out of my countrey, then others were to giue their sons licence to trauayle to forraine countreys. In one day I shall learne more in y ^e vnderstanding of any tongue, then heare in a whole yeere. For there I that heare nothing els but that language [Page]spokē, w ^e I couet to learn, but here not so. For here in this my natiue countrey is spokē y ^e language which I speak & vnder stand, and which my mother taught me.

Seeing my words are but wind, & will not preuaile, tell me then to what countrey chiefely art thou bent to goe?

My mind and purpose is, if it may please God, and you my deare father, to make a voyage into Italie, there to beholde the stately Cities, to sée the fertile fieldes, plesaunt hylles, bate­full pastures, shadowing woodes, the plentie of al kind of trees and groues, the abundance of corne, vines and oliues, fayre cattell, sweet springes, fountaines, lakes, riuers, and hauens. For the coun­trey of Italie, is as it were an open lap, to receiue the trade of all countreys. My féete doe couet to make haste to this noble land most deere father, & therefore giue me leaue to trauel foorthwith into that famous region.

You talke of Italie, my sōne, as though you had bin there: but in Italie you were neuer I am sure, tell me therfore whom hast thou harde to praise Italie so much, that thou shouldest with such words extol the same.

One who was both a gen­tleman and also well learned, who had bin in Italie, & passed through many a fair Citie, as Rome, Naples, Bolonia, & Ge­noway, with many mo. He was a godly Gentleman alwayes, and I take him to be so still: for hee ceaseth not to praye to God, both night and day, nor to call vpon the name of the Lorde: hée fasteth twise a wéeke, hée giueth almes vnto the poore very liberallie of that hée hath. Now be­cause this Gentleman is both vertuous of life, and true in his reportes, I am the more enflamed with ardent desire, to sée the Italian Countrie.

Good louing sonne, the Gentleman (of whom you spake, before) & whose person I do know) I will neuer discommend, hee may be learned and ver­tuous, I say not to the contrarie, but yet tell mée (my sonne,) was it he alone, or else many in number, that caused thée to be so desirous to trauell to Italie?

It was he alone, and none other that reported these wordes to mée.

I like it so much the bet­ter, [Page]because thou saidst he was both lear­ned, and godly. But canst thou tel where he was borne, and what is his name?

A Saxonian borne, and his name is Rhodoman.

But what religion did he professe, canst thou answere mée to that?

Hée counted the Pope as Antichrist, his religion prophane, and of his Church he estéemed as of the Sina­gogue of Sathan. He beléeued whatsoe­uer is written and contained in Gods holy word, he misliketh y ^e doctrine of me­ritū cōgrui & condigni: & as for being iusti­fied by his workes, it is no part of his o­pinion. Hée denieth the reall presence of the Lorde in the Sacramentes. Hée beléeueth no other thing then the worde of God willeth him to beléeue, therefore I am persuaded his religion is good.

I am glad thou hast tal­ked with such a Christian, and because thou arte so fully minded to trauell to Italie & other countries, I am contented to graunt thy request, to trauell whither thou wilt, for three or foure yeeres space.

I thanke you gentle fa­ther, [Page]but I desire moreouer, that you giue me so much money as may be suffi­cient to cary me throughout my voyage, so shall not I hauing money enough, doe that which I woulde not.

Holde, I giue thee three hundreth pounde in gold vse it well, and spende it not prodigally.

I thanke you good fa­ther, I request no more, this is ynough for mée: I will vse your money well, and wil spende no more then I must needes.

My sonne, thou art younge, lustie, and prone to committe follie: wherefore I counsell thee to bri­dle thy fansies, to banishe euill thoughts, and to cutte off all occasion of any vice that may hinder thy voyage, and pro­noke the wrath of God agaynst thée. If the luste of the fleshe entise thee, and the concupiscence of the eye allure thée to e­uill, tame thy self with fasting and pray­er, & call for the assistaunce of Gods spi­rit, be circūspect in thy talke, lowly in thy behauiour, ready to suffer all raylings & reuilings: if thou be abused with ill spee­ches, [Page]giue sayre words again, & if thou be offended with reproches, offende not a­gaine: if thou be had in derisiō, deride not again. Moreouer to what coūtrey soeuer thou comst, vse thy selfe gently, soberly, mildly, and humbly: be ready to pleasure all, loth to displease any: if y ^e manners of the people be rude, let not their rudenesse moue thy pacience, and faine thy selfe al­wayes needy, then thy expences shal not bee so great, neither shalt thou bee in any great danger of thieues. Before you receiue any thing, ask the price: if the thing doth like thée take it with thankes, and pay that thou promisest: if the thing be proffered for more then it is worth in value, refuse it w ^e curteous speches. Now for thy lodging thou maiest be so bolde as to craue a view of thy chāber, & of thy bed if the same doth not content thée, pay for a buccale of wine, & seeke another lodging for thy contentment. In all thyne af­faires vse thy selfe honestly, and prac­tise humilitie, so mayest thou trauaile whether thou wilt as safelie as in thine owne countrey.

Louing father I thanke you, this counsell is good, & may saue mée from many dangers: God graunt I doe, as I am councelled, then I am sure, I shall giue no occasion of wrath, to anye man luing. Your exhortation good fa­ther, I will accōplish if y ^e I may, in eue­rie respect. For I will so behaue my self, that no stranger shall be displeased with me, if I may choose.

If thou dost so, thy state shalbe the safer. But I must tell thée one thing, and marke the same diligently, In trauelling thou must néedes fall in the company of Papistes, take héede they de­ceiue thée not: and when thou cōmest to Rome, suffer not thy selfe to be seduced, for they wil make thée beléeue (vnlesse thou stand stedfaste in thy fayth) that the Bishop of Rome is the vniuersall head ouer the Church of God. Doest thou not sée (say they) how beneficiall the Pope is to Pilgrimes, what Churches hée buildeth, what high wayes he men­deth, what companie of strangers he day­ly susteyneth, howe many hospitalles he findeth, howe many schollers he mayn­teyneth, [Page]howe deuoutly he cōmeth once & moneth into his chappell, how reuerent­ly he giueth the peopls benediction, how he neuer misseth twise a day to say his breuiarie, what paines he taketh, with oratours, leagates, and such others, in hearing their causes? surely this man, if he were not of God, hee woulde not be so liberal, in suppliyng the want of the nee­die: neither woulde he be so painefull in causes ecclesiasticall: Therefore (saye they) perswade thy selfe, the Pope is here on earth in Christes steade, he is Peters successour, and may binde and loose whom he list: hée may saue whom be lo­ueth, & destroy whom he hateth, hee hath the same authoritie here in earth, in hea­uen, in purgatory, and in hel, that Christ himselfe hath in al these places. Oh take heede my sonne, these woordes are ve­nemous, and as bitter as gall: be­ware, and neuer condescende to the opi­nion of these stifenecked Papistes. The Pope hath no vertue in him, but all vice and hypocrisie. Let them bragge of the Pope, vntyll they bee [Page]wearie, yea neuerthelesse thou shalt finde (my sonne) that the Pope is verye Antichriste, as by his life and religion most manifestly shall appeare. I will tell thee (my sonne) of the pa­rentes of this Pope gregorie the thir­téenth, otherwise named (and that pro­perly) hugo, (that is to say) hugh: and by his surname boncompagnion, good fellowe. His father at the beginning was suche a one as solde olde wares (which the Italians termed vechio) as olde yron, olde showes, olde apparell, and suche like thinges. This man at laste became somewhat riche, and vsed the trade of marchandize. Nowe this Pope Hugh was borne at Bolognia, and brought vp in learning there, where hée studied the Ciuil and Canon lawes, and became publique professour of both those lawes in that Citie, where hee was borne. At Rome, and else where, before hée was made Cardinall, hée bare ma­nie offices, as it was reported vnto mée. Some in Bolognia, tolde certayne of my acquaintance, that this Pope [Page]was maried, and by that wife begate those children who are as yet aliue. Some say otherwise, that hée was ne­uer married, but say that those whome hée calleth his sonnes, are in deede his Bastardes: but whatsoeuer they bée, they are Gentlemen, whether they bée so in condition or no, I can not tell, but I am sure they are noble men in wealth, and in worldelye pompe. The Popes syr name is boncompagnion, good fellowe, for that one of his Graundsyers accom­panied him selfe with another Italian, to kill a Serpent, who did much hurte in the Countrey of Italie, in slaying both man and beast: and for this cause the Serpent being stayne, by one of this Popes Graundsyres, and by another Italian, from that day forwardes hée was called boncompagnion, and so was his father surnamed, and this Pope likewise. This Pope hath a brother in Bolognia, who hath the charge of ma­nye affayres, and also the Popes ba­starde, though some call him his Ne­phewe, hee hath the rule of all thinges at Bolognia.

This Pope hath his protrature liue­ly set foorth in manye places of that Ci­tie: and gaue commaundement to the Bolognians that his statute shoulde bee erected there: In deede his stature is e­rected at Rome, is erected in the Capi­toll. The Pope is liberall to those, by whome he hopes that the ruines of his kingdome shalbe repaired: hée is bene­ficiall to Englishe men, and to Ger­mans. For hee hopeth that by their witte and pollicie, by their industrie and labour, hee shall recouer to hym­selfe those countreys againe and haue them in subiection. What the lyfe of this Pope is, thou maist reade (my sonne) in diuerse bookes, as thou trauaylest to other countreys, but this I will say as I was infourmed by credible persons that had beene traueylers to Rome, that Omnia in curia Romana sunt vaena­lia. All thinges are to bee solde for mo­ney in the Court of Rome. If any man hath committed murther, if any man hath liued in adulterie, if any man [Page]hath offended in gluttonie, or drun­kennesse, or what so euer cryme hée hath committed, come to this Pope with your purse full of money, and for your syluer you shall bée absolued and forgiuen of all your sinnes. But if you come with an emptie purse, you shall departe as you come, without anye indulgence and pardon of your sinnes: no penye no pater noster. If any will release his brother from purgatorie, let him prouide money, and an owle will flye with his brother to heauen, wil you haue Agnos dei, graua benedicta, me­dalla, crosses, beades, &c. Then goe to this Pope and bring him a sat­chell of money, and you shall haue all these thinges. Oh my sonne I tell thée the trueth before these my neygh­bours. For a brother of mine hath dwelt with the Popes chiefe Chamber­layne, and hath seene the practises of this Pope Gregorye the thirteenth, and knoweth the fashions of his Courte. Let not his hypocriste delude thée, ney­ther [Page]lef his magnificent giftes deceiue thee: thou shalt peceiue by his super­maiesticall statelinesse, that hee is the sonne of perdicion: hée can not take the paynes (béeing lustie of age) to goe on foote from his chamber to his chappell vppon feastiuall dayes, but must bée carried on eyght scarlette mens shouldiers.

Oh pride, Lucifer like. When hée goeth in procession, in the Citie hée is honoured as Christe, o­uer his heade must carpettes bee layde, the walles must bee couered with the same, and the streetes strow­ed with flowers and rushes.

The swishers are placed as it were in battaile arraye, the meaner forte with their torches goe before, the richer Citi­zens followe after, the Nouices of moffe monasteries followe them, then come the fatte belled Monkes, Fry­ars, Abbotes, pryours, and suche lyke, after them the Byshoppes, them [Page]the Popes Chamberlaynes, with his Miters, and after them followe the Cardinalles, then appeareth the Pope, not goyng on foote, but caryed on mens shoulders verye pontyfically, the trumpettes soun­ding, the double Cannons are char­ged. Which pontificallitye Christe hym selfe neuer vsed, and there­fore this excessiue pride seuereth the the Pope from the Immitation of Christes steppes.

Thou shalt see my soone, that the Pope is not vertuous in deede though hée bée so accoumpted, but full of hypocrysie.

Hée is (as the brute goeth at Rome) the cause of dissentions in diuers Countreys, and hée onely was the cause of the late rebellion in Ireland. For commaundement was giuen vn­to them of the seminary by the Pope, that they shoulde praye daylye for the prosperous successe of Doctour Saun­ders [Page]his affayres in Irelande. This Pope succoureth rebelles and tray­tours, that in the tyme of the laste commotion fledde out of the North.

I vnderstande nowe (fa­ther) that you are verye well acquain­ted with one or other, that lately hath béene at Rome.

Haue I not tolde thée (my sonne) that my brother dwelt with the Popes chiefe cham­berlaine? it was hee that knewe all these thinges, and reported them vn­to mee.

Truely this reporte shall bee a caueat vnto mee, to beware of the Popes engine readie prepared to entrape imprudent and vndiscreete per­sons. All the perswasiue woordes in the worlde shall not make mée brooke him.

In so dooing happie shall I bee, that haue suche a godly and obedient sonne.

But father, by your pa­cience [Page]I will aske one question: were all Popes wicked in their liuing, as they are Heathenish in their religion?

Sonne, thou askest mée a doubtfull question. If thou askest whether all Popes wanted moral ver­tues, and such as the Gentiles had, or whether they all lacked those Christian vertues, which are the fruits of the Chri­stian faith: whether thy demaunde be of the first or of the second, tell mée without any dissimulation.

I aske, whether all popes that arrogantly claimed to them selues Supremacie in earth, and the false pre­tensed succession of Peter in the Sée A­postolike, were prophane in conuersation of life.

There were no such ar­rogant Popes, but they liued only Chri­stianlike, and as their religion was re­pugnant to Gods worde, so their life and maners were contrarie to the comman­dement of the liuing God.

But father, can you tell [Page]their names, and how impiously they li­ued?

What their names were I knowe, and what their maners were likewise I knowe of certentie: but for­asmuch as I haue said somwhat of Pope Gregorie the xiii. I thinke it not amisss to tell what his predecessour was, and howe hée came to the Popedome, this Pope Pius Quintus descended of very poore Parentage, as at Rome is repor­ted of him. At Minerua, hée was a Do­minican Friar for a certaine space, then hée became Pryor of that Monasterie, at what time Cardinall Morone was suspected for one that sauoured not of Popishe religion. Wherefore this Pryor Dominican was sent by the Pope to heare Cardinall Morons confession, which when hée vndertooke, and thought to haue hearde the Cardinals confession, hée was reiected, for that hée was ney­ther Bishop nor Cardinall: But a poore Fryar.

This Dominican returned backe a­gaine to the Popes Courte, and tolde [Page]the Pope that Cardinall Morone dis­dained to take him for his confessor, be­ing no Cardinal, but a poore Dominican. The Pope hearing these wordes, was muche out of pactence, he was sore offen­ded, and his wrath was so kindeled, that in his angrie moode, hée called for a Cardinals hatte, and gaue it vnto this Dominican, willing him foorthwith to go againe to Cardinall Morone.

Now when hée came Cardinall like, Cardinall Morone submitted himselfe, yeelded to make his confession before him, to answere to any Article that hée had to lay againste him, and in his ex­amination hée shewed him selfe con­formable to the Popes Lawes. It happened afterwardes, that this Pope dyed, and then, (as the order is) the Col­ledge of Cardinals assembled together, in a certaine appointed place of the Popes Courte, to elect and choose a­mongest themselues, some méete man to take vpon him the charge of so great and Sathanicall function. The whole Colledge of Cardinalles, that were [Page]present there, except this one Dominican Cardinall, gaue their assent and consent to this Cardinall Morone, that hee shoulde haue béene Pope: but when this Dominican Cardinal was asked why hée gaue not his voyce with the rest, he made this answere, I will neuer (saith hée) giue my voyce to any person suspected of here­sie. Then spake Cardinall Morone I will not be Pope, though I might.

Heereupon all the Cardinals were wil­ling, that this Cardinall Morone should elect whom he best fansied, to bée Pope of Rome, which thing beeing graunted vnto him, hée vttered these wordes, say­ing. I knowe none more worthie to bée made Pope, then the Cardinall of Alex­andria, who refused to giue his voyce to my election, for that some time I was suspected to bée an Heretike: a worthier man then hée to beare rule, may seldome or neuer bée found though wée sought for one through out the worlde. Therefore séeing your graces good wil and pleasure, was, that I shoulde choose whom I best liked to the Popedome, I nominate and [Page]pronounce this Cardinall of Alexan­dria. These wordes thus vttered, eue­ry Cardinall in his degrée doing obey­sance, came and kissed this newe Popes féete. This Pope had a nephewe, (sup­posed of some Romans to haue béene his bastarde) whome hée created Cardinall ouer that Citie Alexandria, whereof he himselfe had béene Cardinal before. This his nephewe (or rather as the common bruite or same goeth at Rome) was bounde apprentise to a poore Tailour, who dwelleth in the Englishe Semina­rie at Rome: and because hée was alto­gether vnapt for that science, this poore taylour came vnto his vncle, the afore­said Pope Pius Quintus, (but then a Do­minicā Frier in the monasterie of Minerua) and tolde him that his nephewe was vnfitte to bée a taylour, for that hée sawe no towardnesse at all in him touching that Art. But sée now (my sonne) howe fortune fauoureth fooles, howe shée ex­alteth the vnworthie. For this felow, the Popes nephewe can scarce reade his Masse booke, much lesse vnderstande it, [Page]and yet loe, on a sodaine hée is created Cardinall of Alexandria. This Pope his vncle, as the report goeth, was a bet­ter practicioner in hearing Nunnes confessions, and fitter to play the Cooke, then to supplie an office and roome of suche high dignitie, to the which the Maiestie of Emperours & kings, by the iudgement of the Papistes, is counted inferiour. This Pius Quintus at the first was a beggar, then afterwardes hee be­came a Dominican Friar, and conse­quently, a Cardinal, and in fine a Pope. Thus fortune exalted him to high de­grées of promotion. The recordation and remembrance of his pristinate and former state, before fortune had smiled on him, shoulde by right haue moued him to bee humble and lowly to all men in his Papall Maiestie.

Truely Father, as for his base estate of byrth, if his vertues were good, or if his excellen­cie of wit was suche, that it surpas­sed the wisedome of others. I dde not [Page]weigh nor make any account, nor doe so vilely thinke of his simple Parents that therefore I shoulde esteeme him vnworthie to haue béene (as hee was) promoted to a higher degree of functi­on.

Louing sonne, to the derogation of his promotion I speake not a worde, and as for his Papall dignitie, it dothe not touche mee who hath it, or who euer had it, either noble or vnoble, poore or riche.

But mine intention was to tell thee, howe at the first hée became Chapline to Sainte Dominicke, then after­wardes Chamberlaine to Beelzebub, and last of all, sonne to Lucifer, by marriage. For hee married his begotten daughter pride.

From suche offices and degrées of function good Lorde de­liuer vs. I pray you father will you shewe mee, if you can, what his lyfe was, being Pope?

Yes that I can, and hew hée liued I will declare to thée as follo­weth. Hée was a blooddy persecutor of the Christians, and caused many a faithfull beléeuer of y ^e Gospell, most lamentably to bée burned: yea hée was the cause of that butcherly effusion of Christian blood at Paris, and in all other places of Fraunce. His successour Gregorie xiiii. wickedly allowed, the cruell hande­ling & formentes shewed vpon the great Admirall of Fraunce, the instrument of God, for defence of true religion, and for the consolation of the afflicted Christi­ans. Whiche facte is entred in marble stone, in the imperiall hall of the Popes Court, artificially set foorth: but to speake of Pius Quintus, this Pope was certified by a certaine Cardinall, that in Rome there was an noble man, sonne to a Duke, borne in Germanie, differing from the Papistes in religion and disagréeing with their doctrine. So soone as the Pope had heard these wordes, be­ing moued with furious indignation, hée cried vnto the Cardinall, burne him, [Page]burne him: but the Cardinall béeing more mercifull then the Pope, desired his gracelesse Antichristian Maiesty, to commaunde the young noble youth to appeare before him, and so hée did. When the young Noble man came before his presence, hée did prostrate him selfe at the Popes féete, at whom the Pope be­gan so to raile, and so to threaten him, that the Noble man ouercome with his threatenings of death, was readie to be­léeue whatsoeuer hée woulde haue him beléeue, and so with his grimme counte­nance and threatning words hée peruer­ted this Noble young man to the religi­on of perpetuall destruction.

Surely, this man was more bitter then prudent, and more grée­die of vndeserued subiection, then care­full ouer the life of true Christians. Fie vpon such a proude persecutor, from such Tirants, libera nos Domine. But fa­ther, it was tolde mée, that hée was a great Coniurer or Nigromancer.

And in very déede (as I suppose) thou hast hearde nothing but the truth in that. For surely at Rome it is [Page]reported that hée did those thinges which no man coulde haue doone, vnlesse he had béen skilfull in Nicromancie: Hée fore­tolde of the victorie of the Venetians, and Dun de Austria, ouer the Turkes. Hée came also vp on a certaine time out of his studie and tolde them of the victorie that were then in his presence: Nowe, (quoth hée) the Turkes are vanquished and slaine. These wordes hée might foretell by Nigromancie, as I suppose, and not otherwise. For hée had not the gift of Prophesie being a Tyrant, and an open persecutor of the truth. This Pi­us Quintus was so welbeloued of his ser­uants, that some of his Chamberlaines had besméered his Crucifix with poyson, so that when he came to pray, and appro­ched to kisse the Crucifix, it ranne away: & when he saw the Crucifix remoouing it selfe after that maner, he créeped néerer, but y ^e more hée créeped, y ^e farther the Cru­cifix remooued. This thing I thinke was doone by the Art of Nigromancie, but it was one of the myracles of his Grandfa­ther Satan. But the Romans report him to haue béene familiar with God, [Page]and that hée very myraculously preser­ued hun alwayes, and caused the stones to certifie him of any iminent dangers. This man of sinne was so bent to the heauenly treasures, that hée cared not for worldly riches: for hée gaue all his goods to the poore, & made them Noble men and Gentlemen: but they were suche poore as were his kinsmen, some of them Co­zins and Nephewes, to speake plainely his bastardes.

Of this Pope Pius Quintus I also (good father) haue hearde muche. Was it not hée (I pray you sir) that first excommunicated our gracious Quéene ELIZABETH.

It was euen hée, but shée ne­uer prospered better, nor this Realme did neuer florishe more then since it was by him excommunicated: therefore for his cursing wée passe not, neither doe we regarde the thundering Bulles of ex­communication of his successours.

It is so, as you say, that the Popes curse can doe vs no hurte: but can you tell me (father) whether they are chosen Popes by the meanes of their [Page]vertue, learning, and wisedome, or by the meanes of briberie, golde and sil­uer?

I haue tolde thée (my sonne) that in the Popedome there is no vertue, and therfore it is the more lightly to be regarded. Learned they must néedes bée, not in Scriptures, for that they defie them, but in the Ciuile & Canon lawes, that they may know what is their owne Iure illicito, & may pleade for that which is not their owne Iure Pontificiali. Wis­dome is requisite in a Pope, whereby he may knowe golde from siluer, gemmes and precious stones, frō common stones which bée in the stréetes. Hée must haue wisedome to counte them, wisedome to locke them vp in his treasure house: hée cannot bée without wisedome to picke out the best golde from the badde, to giue to his waiting gentlewomen at bed and boorde. Hée must moreouer haue wise­dome to prouide for his bastardely chil­dren, which hée begot whiles hee was a soule Priest to the Putanne in the Bur­dello or whilest hée saide Masse els­where for money, to supplie the necessitie [Page]of any sober Curtezane, and defloured Virgin. Such learning and wisedome, as before is recited, euery Pope muste haue, and euery Gentleman. Bribery, large giftes, and greate promises must helpe him to that Papall dignitie, or els hée shall go without it, as most common­ly it falleth out, vnlesse perhaps some poore Cardinall be made Pope, and com­poundeth with the colledge of Cardinals that the Papall reuenewes bée equally parted amongst them all of the Colledge of Cardinals.

But what if a man had plentie of money? then peraduenture hée might bée made Pope, and rule the roste at his pleasure.

If a man had money, as thou saiest, great plenty, he should quick­ly bée made Pope of Rome, as it saide of Iohn the xviii. a Grecian borne, who ob­tained the place by briberie, sedition, and hurly burly. This man brought so much money to Rome with him, from Constantinople, as that hée was able therewithall to drawe and tempt vnto him, aswell the wise and wary, as the [Page]simple sort, to bée of his faction: where­by hée corrupted Crestentius the Consul, violently to abuse Pope Gregory, and to driue him out being a Germane, and so purchased the Popedome, and the sequell thereof. But of those thinges that hée and his traine set to sale in his Popeship, Mantuan writeth thus:

Iohn the xiii. being y ^e sonne of Albericus the sonne to Maozia, obtained to be pope, partly by the briberie, and partly by the threatning of his father Albericus being Prince. Before the Emperour Otho, in an open Synode, it was laide to his charge (as Lutherandus writeth in his sixt booke) that hée neuer saide Mattins, that incelebrating the Masse he himselfe had not communicated, that hée made Deacons in his stable among his Hor­ses, that hée had committed incest with two harlots being his owne sisters, that hée played at Dice, prayed to the Diuell to send him good luck, y ^e for money he ad­mitted boy as to bée Bishops, that he had rauished virgins, and strange women, [Page]that hée had made the holy pallance of La­teran, a Stewes & Brothelhouse, that hée had defloured Stephana his Fathers Concubine, and one Rainera a Widdow beside one Anna another Widdowe, and her Néece: that hée had put out the eyes of Benedict his Ghostly father, that hee vsed common hauntes, that hée ware armour, and set houses on fire, that hee brast open dores & windowes by might, that hée tooke a cup of wine and drunke to the Diuell, and neuer blessed him selfe with the signe of the Crosse. These and many more odious Articles, were laid to his charge: Whereupon the Emperour by the consente of the Prelates deposed him: and Leo the eight was set vp in his stéede. But so soone as the Emperour was gone, those Harlots that had béene his companions, inueighed the Nobles of Rome, promising them the treasures of the Church to depose Leo, and to place Iohn againe: which they did out of hand for desire and couetousnesse of the trea­sures of the Church. Thus Leo whom the Emperour appointed, was deposed, and Iohn established againe. So that you [Page]sée (my sonne) howe this Pope who was once deposed, is restored again to the See antichristian.

But Father doe they al climbe to y ^e Popeship with money, with briberic, and dissention?

Not all (my sonne) for some obtained the popeship by Magicke, as Benedict the menth, who before was called Theophilact, the sonne of Alberi­cus, and nephewe to Pope Iohn xxi. As hée by coniuring and diuelish Artes, did first aduaunce his vncles, Benedict the eight, and Iohn xxi: So nowe, by his Magicall Arte, hee brought to passe, that hée succéeded them. This Benedict, af­ter the death of Conradus, conspired with his Councellours Laurence, and Iohn Gratian, to disherite his sonne Henry the thirde of the Empire, and to plant in his stéede Peter king of Hungary: and there­fore he sent the crowne of the Empire to him with this verse:

Syluester the thirde, obtained to bée Pope by Magicall sorcerie, and that at the handes of his father Laurence the fa­mous coniuerer. For thus saith Benno after Benedict was driuen out, and the Popeship solde, Iohn Gratian being in the place, Iohn Bishop of Saba was thrust in vpon him, and called Syluester the third. Thus these thrée being Popes all at once, deuided the Church of Rome into diuers factions: For what with cruell warres, and great bloodshed, the Churche was torne in péeces, fouly man­gled with Scismes, and choked with er­rours, while vnder the coulour of wine it gulled in poyson. Thus wrote Benno of that wretched time. This Syluester enioyed the rowme of Pope but a while for within xxix. daies, the friendes of Be­nedict, with great tumult restored him to that which hée had first both loste and solde. Anno dom. 1041. Pope Benedict made one Cazamirus, a Monke in Clu­nace Abbey, & a Deacon, king of Pole­land, vpon this conditiō, y ^e for euery head in Poleland, hée shoulde pay yéerely to the Pope, and his successours, an ordina­rie [Page]summe of money: and furthermore, that they should not let the hayre of their head grow long, and that they of Polelād shoulde remember for euer, howe that this polling had giuen them a shauen king out of an Abbey. Sergius the iiii. came to bée Pope by Magicall charmes, and in his Popedome hée exercised the same sorcery styll, by which hée obteined the seate. Iohn y ^e xix. an Italian succéeded Syluester the second, and gate to bée pope by the Diuels aide: for (saith Benno) the schollers of the saide Syluester, euery one gaped for the Popedome. Iohn the xx. called Fasanus, got the Popedome by magicke and coniuring. For from the foresaid Syluester, tyll Gregory the vii. (a notorious person) all the Popes were famous inchaunters: by their charming they stirred vp walking spirites, bugges, goblins, firie sights, and diuers terrible ghostes and shapes of things, with how­lings, and gronings, about dead mens graues, persuading the simple people, that they were dead mens soules, & those spirits that being coniured vp by priests, deluded men, dissembling that they were [Page] [...]e soules of the dead, complaining of [...]heir intollerable paines in Purgatorie [...]e, and crauing to be released by the me [...]torious déedes of their fréendes & kind­ed, bestowing Diriges, Masses, and Trentals vpon them. Syluester the se­ [...]onde, of whome mention is made alrea­ [...]ie, betooke himselfe to the Diuell, both [...]ody and soule, to bée made Pope, and [...]iserablie ended his life in the pallace of [...]he holy Crosse, which is called Hierusa­ [...]em, as hée saide Masse, and the Diuels were readie to receiue him into their hel­ [...]ishe habitation. Hée commaunded [...]is tongue and his handes (as writeth [...]enno) to bée cut of, because that by them hée had blasphemed God, in Sacrificing [...]nto Diuels: thus hée dyed a reprobate, Anno. Dom. 1003. The report of him is this, that the Tombe of this Syluester doth euer since Prognosticate the death of the Pope, by the ratling of the bones, and the gushing out of the water that ri­ [...]eth out of the grounde about it: as also (saith Platina) it is testified by the Epi­taphe written vpon his graue. Manie such Popes coulde I recite, which by en­chauntments, [Page]and magicke, obtained th [...] Popeship, whom for breuitie sake I o­mit.

Why then (father) i [...] these forenamed persons by Magical Ar [...] became popes, it is easie for cunning con­iurers to bee made Popes. I though [...] that the holy Ghoste chose them to bé [...] Popes, but nowe I sée the Diuell getteth them the Popeship: the Diuell himself [...] being the Authour of Nigromancie, i [...] hée woulde transforme him selfe int [...] the likenesse of a man should bee excée­dingly estéemed amongst the Papists.

And so hée should in déed but because hée is a spirite, hée placeth in his roome some ambitious mortal wretch as his Vicegerent, with conditions to be obserued and kept of euery Pope.

Father, must they be all men, that are Popes? was there neuer woman Pope?

There is no matter whe­ther they bée men or women that are made Popes. For as long as they are Satans Vicars héere on earth, they may bée both hée and shée Popes: but I reade [Page] [...]f one woman that was made Pope of Rome.

But can you tell mée her name, where shée was borne, and howe [...]hée came to the Papacie?

Yes that I can. Her name was [...]oan the eight, and because of her brin­ging vp vnder a certaine Englishman, a monke of Fulda (whom she loued tender­ly) her name was altered, and shée was called Iohn English: shée sate as Pope in the Pontificall seate of Rome two yéeres, and sixe monethes, shee was a Germane by birth, and borne in Mentz. She was called at the first Gilberta, a lecherous beast, and such a one, as for the more inioying of her leuers company, & the better auoiding of suspition, dissem­bled her kinde, and put her selfe into mans apparrell, and so trauelled with the Monke her Paramour, to Athens who being dead shée came to Rome, still disguising her selfe, and counterfet­ting to bée a man. For through the promptnesse of her wit, and her readie tongue, shée talked eloquētly in publike lectures and disputations: and many [Page]had her in admiration for her learnin [...] shée grewe into so great credite, and wa [...] so well liked of all, that Leo the pope b [...] ­ing dead, they chose her in his roome: [...] which office, as other Popes had don [...] shée gaue orders, made Priestes & De [...] ­cons, promoted Bishops, creat [...] Abbots, saide Masses, hallowed Alte [...] and Churches, ministred y ^e sacrament [...] gaue men her féete to kisse, & did al oth [...] things belonging to the Popes: and h [...] doings stood in force. But in y ^e time of h [...] Popeship, Lotharius the Emperour be­ing an olde man, became a Monke, an [...] Lewis the seconde came to Rome, and r [...] ­ceiued of her the Scepter and Crown of the Empire, with Peters blessing whereby the whoore of Babylon shew [...] her selfe so mightie, that shée made king stoupe vnto her. Apoc. cap. 7. Furthe [...] more, (as Houedemus saith) in her tim [...] Ethelwolphus king of Englande ga [...] the tenth part of his kingdome to th [...] Priestes and Monkes, to pray for hi [...] soule: and his sonne Ethelwaldus ma [...] ­ried Iudith a widdowe, the late wife [...] his owne father, and his Stepmothe [...] [Page]But as touching Pope Ioan, shée was gotten with childe by one of her familar Chaplines, a Cardinall to whome her fleshly appetite caused her to disclose her­selfe. For as shée was going on Pro­cession solemply to Lateran Churche, in the midst of the way, & in the open stréet, betwéene Colossus & Clement Churche, shee was deliuered of childe, in presence of all the people, and dyed of her trauell in the same place. For which wicked­nesse shée was stripped, and spoyled of all pontificall honour, and buried without any pompe or solemnitie. Héereof Mantuan writeth, describing Hell in the thirde booke of Alphonsus, thus.

Loe, this is that seat that cannot erre▪ being endewed with the holy Ghoste by succession, or rather an euident argumēt [Page]of the seate of Babylon. But the Popes since that time, in their Procession doe shunne that place, where shée was deli­uered, as odious for the hap thereof Funcius saith boldly, that this was suf­fered by Gods especiall prouidence, that this woman shoulde bée made Pope, be­ing also an Harlot, euen then, when shé [...] shoulde bring kinges (as shee did Ethel­wolphus and Alphredus) in subiectiō vn­to her, whereby Antichriste might bee [...] knowne. For then it was the Lordes pleasure, to bewray the whoore of Baby­lon, in a Pope, being an whoore. Where­fore the holy Ghost foretolde it, Apoc. 17 that the elect might beware of her. But to avoid the like inconuenience of a wo­man for the time following, they deuised that whosoeuer should bée chosen Pope, shoulde bée searched very narrowly to be tryed a man, & if hée were, a crye shoulde bée made with a loude voyce. Habet te­sticulos, dignus est Papari: A thing shame­full to bée reported, but vsed without shame, among such shameles shauelings. But nowe commonly they néede not, when they choose them Popes, mistrus [...] [Page]them to bée women: for while they are Cardinals they play such carnall partes that they are able to bring foorth ba­stardes of their owne begetting, to prooue themselues men. Whereof one Iohn Pannonius wrote a merry Epigram, in foure Latine verses: testifying the truth of this their doing, of the which I omit y ^e two first verses for ciuilitie sake. It may be gathered by these latter two, what is meant.

And will not the people for all this be reduced from their vaine o­pinion, in taking the Pope to bée Christs Vicegerent, to the abhorring of that v­surped high ambitious title of Supre­macie?

My sonne, many are so obstinate, that they will neuer confesse [Page]to the contrarye: and the more wicked the Popes were in life and conuersati­on, the more godly they thinke them to bée.

But were they all do­ers of michiefe that became Bishops of Rome?

No, for all did not arro­gantly claime to themselues Suprema­cie on earth. Linus a Tuscane borne, a man of pure and godly life, was Bi­shop of Rome: hée was neuer puft vp with such pride, that he woulde name himselfe head of all Churches through­out the worlde. But this good man, ac­cording to the example of the Apostles, was not afraide to preache the Gospell, and for preaching of the same, suffered martyrdōe vnder Saturninus the Consul, while Vespacian reigned. Diuers fan­sies are fathered vpon this man, as that hée decréed by the commaundemente of Saint Peter, being dead, that no womā should enter into the temple bareheaded: which cannot bée, for there were no tem­ples in Rome, till the time of Constantine the Emperour. For Christian con­gregations [Page]were constrained to liue in desertes, woods, and mountaines: they were inforced to digge them Caues vn­der the grounde, whereof many are yet to bée séene at Rome, euen to this day. Therfore these thinges may bewray the dotage of Platina, and others, who charge these firste godly Martyrs with diuers superstitiōs, deuised by other long after. Anacletus the first borne at Athens, is pla­ced by Irenaeus next after Linus: hée was a man of an excellent and feruent spirit, and of great learning, hée planted the Churche of God with dayly labour, and was put to death by Domitian. Anno. 94. Certaine Epistles & decrées, stuffed full of falshood, vntruthes and ambition, tou­ching y ^e ordering & primacie of Bishops, are coūterfeited in his name. But Flaccus Illyricus, in the first Centurie, doth so rip the seames of them, that euery man may perceiue what botched stuffe it is. Be­side Mantuan saith, that he liued not long in any such estate, as to haue occasion to write of such matters, but in Caues and Dennes, among woods. Clement the first, a Roman, aduaunced the Gospel by [Page]continuall preaching and good déedes. They forge of him that hée did deuid [...] Rome into Parish churches, which had scant a lodging in it. Againe, they slaun­der him that he made orders in Rome for confirmation of children, for Masses, Ap­parrell, Vestures, and other Popish Ce­remonies: and yet hée (séely man) was of so small power and authoritie to esta­blish these thinges in Rome, y ^t hee was a lōg time banished by y ^e emperor, & he wed marble stones, till at length hée was cast into the Sea, with an Anchor about his necke: Anno. 102. So writeth Mantuan. Fasto. 11. Euaristus the first, a Grecian, was especially endewed with the grace of God, whereby in the time of persecu­tion hée ceased not to increase the Church of Christe by his diligent preaching; till hée was martyred vnder Traian, An. 110. Alexander the first, a Roman, did trauell painefully, both in preaching and bapti­zing, hée suffered great tormentes, till hée died thereof, vnder one Aurelianus fore [...] president to the Emperor: Ann. 21. Sixtu [...] the first a Roman, did both preach dili­gently, and did many good workes, he [...] [Page]beautified the Church with godly déeds, [...]eing alwayes vigilant and carefull for [...]is flocke, & died for it. Ann, 129. These thrée good Bishops are slaundered with [...]ertaine Popish decrées, as touching the [...]onsecrating of the Clergie, holy water, and holy vessels: but olde verses made of these times, doe testifie, that they were not at such leasure, to furnishe, or rather disguise the Churche with these supersti­ous Ceremonies. Thus doe some write of these times:

Many such godly men, who were Bi­shops of Rome, I coulde recite, as Teles­phorus the first, Higinus the first, Pius of A­quilia, Anacletus, Sother, Eleutherius, Victor, Zepherius, Calixtus y ^e first, Vrbanus, Pontia­nus, Antheros, Fabian, Cornelius, Lucius a Romā, Stephanus, Sixtus the secōd, Dyonisi us, Foelix, Eutychianus, Gaius, or Caius, Mar­cellinus, Marcellus, Eusebius, Melchiades, Syl­ [...]ester the first, &c. Except this one bishop [Page] Siluester, al the rest gaue their blood to bée shed for testimony of their faith. these foresaid bishops neuer claimed y ^e supremacie, as proude Popes doe now a dayes, they neuer desired to bée decked with suche vaine gloryous titles, it was a thing which they neuer wished, nor neuer in­tended: yet were they bishops of Rome. And if the Supremacie were lawfull for their successours, it had been much more lawfull for thē, being y ^e succéeding popes of their Predecessours. They knew well that Christe gaue them no such preroga­tiue aboue y ^e rest of their fellow Bishops to bée rulers ouer all: for they were Bi­shops, such as God loued, and suche as lo­ued God: they became not Bishops of Rome, to the end they might goe in their Pontificalibus, to the end they might bée richer then kinges, or to the ende they might commaunde Emperours, Kings, Princes, and all estates, to doe according to their fantasticall mind, to make them knéele and kisse their féete. These Bi­shops were no suche proude Lucifer like Prelates, they cared not for the vaine­glory of man, the deceitefull pompe of [Page]his worlde, nor the glorious shewes of his life: but all their delight was [...]o preache the glad tidinges of the Go­ [...]pell, to preache faith fixed in Christe, [...]nd to preache repentance established in the minde, to preache the Sacrament of the Supper of the Lorde, and to preache the Sacrament of Baptisme: in confir­mation of which their sound and perfect doctrine, they shed their innocent blood. But assoone as their successours vanqui­shed with pride, and inflamed with am­bition, tooke to themselues the name and title of the vniuersall Bishop, and would haue the Roman Churche called y ^e head of all Churches, then they raigned in the church of christiās, without iudgment or consideration of the heauenly spirit, they did cast their eyes on earthly thinges, for­getting Gods euerlasting Testament, as if they regarded the fleshe onely, and not the soule. All their delight was in newe Traditions, Ceremonies, buildinges, pleasures, pompe, warres, treasons, and translations of kingdomes, so that they séemed to liue in y ^e glory of this world, & in contempt with Christe. Thus the [Page]Churche vnder their gouernement, is at length become the strumpet of Babylon according to the whole discourse of the A­pocalyps. Yet men blinded by their owne affections, and nouzeled in their owne vanities, will néedes confesse these vn­godly Popes to bée Christs Vicars héere on earth, albeit their life bée abhomina­ble, albeit many of them haue beleeued the soule of man to haue béene mortall, and haue taught that there was neither Heauē nor hell, neither God nor Diuell, and haue procured generall disputations for that cause: as Clement the eight, who was a poysoner, a murderer, a bawd, an vncleane liuer, & that in such sort, as (if it were not for offending chast eares) is not to bée named. Hée is also charged with Symonie, adulterie, rauishing of women, periurie, coniuring, Church rob­bing: finally, to bée fraught with all kinde of villanie. And therefore a cer­taine Poet wrote thus of him:

The inclemencie of destenie gaue this name to Clement. This man was a stur­rer [Page]vp of warres, & a worker of all mis­chief. Iohn the xxiii. a Frenchman borne, [...]aide, and stubbornly beléeued, that the [...]oule of man dyeth together with the bo­ [...]y, and is consumed to nothing, like the [...]oule of bruite beastes: of which errour [...]ée neuer purged himselfe. These Popes are they, by the iudgement of the Pa­pistes, that can neuer erre: for the holy Ghost directeth them in all their doings. I woulde aske them this question, whi­ther is the holy Ghoste gone? or howe both hée direct them in all their doinges, when they beléeue there is neither hea­uen nor hell, God nor Diuell, and when they maintaine this, that the soule of man is mortall? Surely the holy ghost is gone to prepare a place of miserere for such faithlesse Caitiffes. I could write many thinges touching the Popes of Rome, that liued most wickedly, and de­nyed the immortalitie of the soule: but because thou art learned, thou mayest reade (my sonne) of their liues at large in the histories of Platina, Christianus Mas­seus, Carsulan, Ptolomeus Lucensis, &c.

The narration of the [Page]corrupt liuing, and horrible heresies of these Popes before recited, shall make mée beware howe I giue credite to any proude Papist, that will haue mée con­fesse the Pope to bée Supreme head ouer all Churches.

God graunt thou mayst doe so: holde héere, I giue thée two hun­dred poundes, God blesse thée, and make thee his seruant.

Fare you well my good father.

Adue my sonne.

SEeing that I haue ob­tained my fathers good will, and receiued mo­ney sufficient for my voyage, I thinke it my duetie likewise to re­quest your leaue (O louing mother) to trauell to forreigne Countries. The cause of this my requeste to trauell to strange & forreigne kingdomes I haue alreadie declared. I haue taken my fare­well of my father, and I meane to take my leaue of you in like maner deare mo­ther.

Sonne, séeing that your minde and pleasure is to depart from vs: and séeing your father my husband hath satisfied your request, I am not to denie what you aske of mée in that behalfe. But forasmuch as your father tendering the safetie of your soule, hath tolde you many enormities of the Popes, for your greater detestation of them, it behooueth mée being your mother, to impart vnto you my sonne a farther declaration of the corrupt liues of Cardinals and Bishops.

To heare your talke touching the abhominable and hypocri­ticall life of Cardinals and Bishops, I would gladly giue eare, that I may take héede of their delusions.

Then listen to my wordes, and marke what I say, I will tell thée but truth, and what I hearde re­ported vnto mée by my brother that hath béen a great traueller, & hath séene with his eyes those things which I shall recite vnto thée.

I pray you (mother) with­out farther tract of time, reueale vnto me [Page]what your brother (my vncle) hath vtte­red vnto you.

My brother being at Rome, hard of many that Cardinall Far [...]n his youth loued a boy better thē a wo­man, and in his olde age (as it is supposed of many) of an Agent is become a Pa­cient. Nam succumbit libidini quorun­dam Sodomitarum. Shamefastnesse pro­hibiteth mée to tel this abhominable pra­ctise of his in English. This is he not­withstanding, whom certaine of the Pa­pistes write to bée vertuous and lear­ned.

But is not hée the chiefe and principall Cardinall amongst all the rest in office and dignitie?

Yes, and in his office is great: for hée is the Popes Vicechaun­cellour, and his reuenewes are likewise great. For his rents amount in the yere to sixescore thousande Crownes, his ser­uāts are many, his house is sumptuous, and his going is maiesticall. This man wanteth no worldly pompe, no glory, no maiestie, that may be lawfully demaun­ded in respect of his courtly dignitie, and [Page]princely reuenewes.

I vnderstande (mother) that his office is great, and his riches as great: but can you tell (gentle mother) whether hée bée a temporall or spirituall man, a secular or a Priest.

I vnderstood by my bro­ther, that his crowne is shauen, and that he saith Masse, I suppose therefore hée is a Priest after the order of Iupiter, or of Venus, I cannot tell which.

But is hée learned? Can hée preache? And doth hée kéepe hospi­talitie?

Hée is very well lear­ned, for hée vnderstandeth the scriptures, as though they had not béen written: and hée is as cunning in the Doctours, as though hée had neuer séene or hearde of their writings. He speaketh as good latin, as there is in the Italian tongue, hée is a singuler good preacher, when he is in his garden of pleasure, and repaste with his louing Néeces, hée hath a good gift in tea­ching: for hée teacheth his curre dogge to licke his Priestly bearde. This man hath such a grace in vtterance, that all [Page]the whelpes hée hath would commende him, if they had the gift of spéeche. Hée commeth as often to the Pulpit, as the Pope doeth to Englande, to shewe him­selfe Peters Successour by life and doc­trine.

I sée that this man is more glutted with dainty dishes of meat, thē replenished with copie of wholesome places of Scripture: more fatted in eating of crammed Capons, then well read in the auncient and graue Doctors: and more occupied in playing with his fawning Spaniel, then exercised in prea­ching, and deliuering the worde of God vnto the flocke committed to his charge. But (mother) can you tell whether any other liueth so corruptly as this Cardi­nall hath, and (as farre as I know) doth as yet?

Good sonne, to tell how the Cardinals of Rome lead their liues, contrary to their calling and profession: some (whom declaration of truth can ne­uer or hardely make pliable to imbrace true reportes) will thinke that whatsoe­uer I reueale vnto thée, touching their [Page]wicked and hypocriticall liues, to bée ei­ther feined, or els vttered of malice, no [...] knowing y ^t which I report vnto thée t [...] bée either true or false. Bée my wordes neuer so true, nor vttered of malice, ye [...] will the Papists say, that all things y ^t I speak are false, and spring of a malicious and cankered stomacke. But no faithfu [...] Christian may otherwise persuade him selfe, but y ^t the Cardinals may now liue as licentiously and lewdly, as they haue in times past. What y ^e life of many Cardinals and Bishops hath béene in times past, the histories of their liues in sundry Historiographers bookes expressed may giue sufficient notice vnto the worlde [...] and what I shall vtter vnto thée, shall be so true and manifest, y ^e diuers that haue béene in Italie, and haue séene the fashi­ons of those Cardinals & Bishops, may verifie my wordes to bée true.

Are all Cardinals (I pray you) Priestes?

All, for the most parte, haue shauen crownes, and are bounde to make a wheatē god of a wheatē cake, & to drink to Baal a carowse once euery wéek.

But doe they preache as [...]he superintendents in Germanie, and as [...]ur Bishops in England doe?

They preache not after [...]he same maner, for they preache in Co­ [...]hes and in gardens, but the Bishops in Germany and in England preach in pul­pets both in Churches and els where.

It was tolde mee, that Cardinal Medices is a braue fellow, whē hée commeth to the pulpet, that hée is a singular good scholler, and a passing Di­uine both in the Scriptures and Doc­tours.

Hée is a braue fellow in déede, albeit hée neuer commeth to the Pulpet, his apparrell is gay and costly, and he hath a comely body & a faire com­plexion. But surely hée hath such an im­pediment (which they vulgarly call the crampe) in his feete, that he is not able to ascend or goe vp to the pulpet: and hee hath such an ache in his backe, that hée may not be carried to the Pulpet with­out intollerable paine. Therefore, by reason of the crampe of slouthfulnesse, & the ache of insufficiencie, hée hateth the [Page]Pulpet, as the mouse abhorreth the sigh [...] of the Cat. I confesse hée is a singular schollar to dispute with any Doctour, i [...] the knowledge of the making of goodl [...] Rockes, faire mountes, and artificial milles vnder the ground. Moreouer; I d [...] not denie but that hée is a passing diuine in y ^e scriptures, & bookes of Venus, Diana Iupiter, & Mercurie, in the oracles of Apol­lo he is a skilfull man, in the writings o [...] the Heathē doctors he is very wel séene This Cardinall Medices, a noble man by byrth, a Papist by profession, and a shaueling by vocation, bestoweth more cost and expences in his garden, house, and mount, then will satisfie the wantes and necessitie of thrée hundreth poore men. This thing is to bée coniectured by the number of workemen, and by the cost li­nesse of euery thing that apperteineth to the workemanship in his house. Hée hath caused the likenesse of a liuely rocke to be made, and on each side thereof to bée por­traited the shape of naked women hee hath laide out great riches in this & such like vanities, hée hath consumed muche Churche goods in his mount of pleasure. [Page]For the charges that are bestowed in his [...]arden, he is not much to be discommen­ed, for that I thinke it requisite, that [...]pirituall as well as Temporall men [...]oulde haue some worldly felicitie. The [...]auest dames in Rome may bée glad to [...]ecreate themselues in this pleasant garden, the like whereof I neuer sawe, and [...]et I haue séene many, but [...]lacke, this Noble Cardinall abuseth himselfe to muche, and abuseth the name of a Chri­stian, in fayning himselfe to bée one, where in déede hée is none. Why doth hée if he were not a Gentile) spende so much money in making such Gods as the gen­tiles had? No God of great renowme was amongst the Paganes, amongst the Gentiles, amongst the vnbeléeuers, but this Cardinall Medices hath caused the like to be made.

Mother you say that this Medices is a Cardinall, and therefore a pillar of the Churche of Rome: how can this Churche stande, if the pillars doe faile? Is it possible that a Cardi­nall may bée a Gentile, and a Christian? a worshipper of God, & a runner a whoo­ring [Page]after other Gods? I pray you (mo­ther) tell mée, who tolde you that Cardi­nall Medices hath made the Statue of Ve­nus, Diana, Mercurie, Iuno, Iupiter, Apollo, Hercules, and a hundreth more Gods?

My brother was hée that hath séene these things with his eies, and hath tolde mée euen as hée sawe them. There is no day in the yéere almost, ex­cept Sundayes and holy dayes, but this Cardinall hath ten at the least that are about the making of the gods of the gen­tiles: they are to bée séene in his garden, & in his house adioyning to his garden, I meane not his pallace.

But (mother) can you tell mée whether all the rest of the Car­dinals reserue the Gods of the Gen­tyles?

All (for the most part) as cardinall Comedone, cardinall Columna, Cardinall Sauello, Cardinall Farnefio, Cardinall Alexandrino, &c.

Oh abhomination of all abhominations, that these worldly Car­dinals should thus prophane themselues in making and kéeping the Idols of the [Page]gentiles, shoulde thus vsurpe vnto them selues the name and title of Christians, should in worde professe Christ, but in a­ [...]owing and hauing these dumbe, deafe, and insensible Idols, vtterly denie him. Oh men voide of the grace of God, what should they doe with these Statues, that were the Gods of the Gentiles, if they woulde bée counted Christians? But in déede they do as Antichrist their graund-captaine doth, and aloweth.

My sonne, séeing that thou art persuaded, that these Cardinals are not the right worshippers of Christe, for that they make suche vnlawfull ac­count of the Idols of the Gentiles, I am y ^e more beholding vnto thée, & God graunt thou mayest neuer be otherwise persua­ded then thou art at this time. I haue declared vnto thée the manifest and ex­presse Idolatrie of these Roman Cardi­nals, for this one only cause, that thou knowing what they are, maist the more earnestly stick to the saith wherein thou art nowe, and striue with thy Ghostly and bodily enimie with all might and maine (as the Prouerbe is) that the Pa­pists [Page]may not haue power ouer thée, nor habilitie, by their craftie iuggling and feined Legendes of Saintes to deceiue thee. Marke the maners of the Cardi­nals of Rome, and thou shalt sée them voyde of any vertue, or godlinesse, marke their pronesse and readinesse to idolatrie, marke that Paganisme tooke such déepe roote in their forefathers, that they them selues are infected with the spot of [...]dola­trie, and worshipping of salfe Gods. To dissuade them from this horrible crime, no man dare, without danger of his life If a man shoulde come to Rome, and make a Sermon before the pope and the Cardinals, willing them to forsake their Gods, to breake them in péeces, and to cast thē into y ^e rider Tyber, they would all with one consent & open mouth exclaime against him, they would lay hands vpon him, as Iudas and Caiphas laid hands vp­on Christe: they woulde shut him vp i [...] ­prison, and accuse him for an Heretike. Therefore very fewe or none dare vtter such wordes, for feare of their great dis­pleasure, vndeserued indignatiō, and sore reuengement. If any of these Cardi­nals [Page]haue any morall vertue, be it neuer [...]o litle the Papists will extoll him to the kies, and commende him beyonde all [...]easure: but if they hée all naught, they [...]hall not want but one or other will [...]raise and magnifie their names.

I vnderstand by the pro­esse of your talke, that riches, and not vertue, dignitie, and not Pastorlike gra­nitie make them to bée beloued, to bée draysed, to bée defended, and to bée reue­renced. If they were as poore, and as humble as Christe & his Apostles were, [...]o doubt there would not be so many flat­terers, and so many idle shauelinges, to commend these cardinals liuing in wan­tonnesse, licentiousnesse, and carnall se­curitie.

Thou saiest true (my sonne) if is honour and dignitie, it is pomp and pride, it is crueltie and tyran­nie that vnholde the Churche of Rome. Pouertie and humilitie, submission and loyaltie, carefulnesse and Pastorlie wat­ching preserue not the state of Babylon, of that whoorish and idolatrous Churche of Rome. But to let these wordes passe, [Page]I will tell thée (my sonne) how the Car­dinals liue at Rome. First it is saide, that in their Gardens diuers times are séene faire and comely Gentlewomen, whom they call either Néeces, Cozens, or sisters: but what they bée let the Ro­mans iudge, that knowe better of their order, in that kinde of dealing. They say plainely, that they are chamberlaines to the Cardinals (I will not say their bed­fellowes, for I knowe not that.) These Cardinals ride gallantly in their coches, almost euery day in y ^e [...]reetes of Rome, they kéepe their men lustie and brane in apparrel, their Pages are most gallāt, a­mongst all the rest, in their costly attyre. There are in Rome, aboue twenty Car­dinals, but yet not one of them preacheth. There are bishops I know not how ma­ny, but yet not one exhorteth y ^e people. In common or priuate assemblie, all their talke is of worldly matters, all their do­ings tende to their owne glory, to their farther promotion, and to their greater gaine. If euer there were Epicures and Saduces in the worlde, or are nowe in these dages, surely they were and are the [Page]Cardinals of Rome: For they want no pleasure, they want no treasure, they [...]acke no promotion, & they want no re­uerence done vnto them. They haue the worlde at will, soft beds, daintie fare, stout geldinges, goodly mules, princely coches, gorgeous apparrell, huge buil­dings, and what flesh and blood can wish besides: I will not adde bewtifull wo­men, and imagine more: Fye, I am loth to write Formosos pueros. These forsooth (if you giue credite to diffembling Pa­pistes) are vertuous priestly Cardinals, deuout, religious, sptrituall Potentates, clearkly churchly princes, and holy reue­rend fathers.

I sée (mother) that the Churche is weake, where the pillers are feeble: and the Churche must needes bee naught, when as the Cardinals are naught, who are y ^e holders vp therof. But I beseech you (mother) tell mee whether they imitate the Apostles in some point or other, or els follow the gentiles in all their proceedings.

They altogether dege­nerate from the Apostles wayes. For [Page]the apostles preached, they neuer preach they studie to please God alone, but the studie to please many Gods, therefor they follow not the Apostles. They séek to become riche and glorious in the sigh of men, they are busie in séeking for th [...] Gods of the Gentiles, therfore it appea­reth that Paganisme is not cleane roote [...] out of their hearts.

Is it not Cardinall Fer­rara that kéepeth a great rowt of gallant Gentlemen, and maintaineth them to doe as they list?

I thinke it bée the very same person, that hath suche Gentlemon as you talke of, and if it bée, hée caused his men to kill one of the Sbirri, whersoeuer they tooke him, though it were in the Church. It chaunced, that his men followed this poore Sbirri, euen to Saint Peters Church, & they woulde hane kil­led him in the Vestiarie, had not the sha­uen crownes holpen him, and deliuered him from the danger then imminent.

Cardinall Como, Cardinall Morono, car­dinall Sauello, best fauourers of the Eng­lish Seminarie at Rome, are very prōpt [Page]and readie to exhort the English Priests [...]o seduce the simple people héere in Eng­land, and to stirre vp dissention amongst [...]he Gentrie. But to warne the popes [...]chollers to goe decently in apparrell, to walke circumspectly in their calling, to deale with all men simplie and iustly, & to liue vertuously they neuer intende it. But what crastie counsell may be giuen to make hurly burly in this lande, they giue it. To speake a little of the Bishops I thinke it not amisse. The Bishop of Versellis, and the Bishop of Pauia, were at great dissention for worldly dignitie, as my brother reported vnto mée, who was with them both, and heard how the one backhited the other, and the one ma­liciously slaundered the other. The one dealt with my brother very liberally, & willed him to certifie the Bishop of Pa­uia, what liberall giftes hée had receiued at his handes: The other knowing of the Bishop of Versellis liberalitie, gaue him more Iuels, then other wise hee woulde haue doone, and willed him to tell the o­ther Bishops, what hée had giuen. But when they gaue him so much money, for [Page]that the one woulde séeme more vertr­ous then the other, I cannot tell: bu [...] surely, because the one willed him to ce [...] ­tifie the other how much money hée ha­recētued, I thinke it hypocrisie. The Bi­shop of Turym had the name in the town to be very much fleshly minded, but whe ther hée was such a one or no, I canno of certaintie tell: how beit thus went th [...] report of him. Though the Bishop o [...] Granoble hath vowed chastitie, yet he [...] hath two or thrée base borne children, and kéepeth a well complextioned gentlewo­mā to serue him at bed & at boord. What liuers the Bishops are in Fraunce, they that haue dayly trafficke in those coun­tries may soone knowe: and howe wic­kedly most Bishops (I doe not say all) leade their liues, they that bée trauellers can easily shew. I will not name all, whom I haue knowne (by the report of manie) to haue liued very hypocritically & naughtilie in germany, where papistrie reigneth. The Bishops in many places liue not spiritually but secularly, as my brother hath séene with his eyes. Let no man thinke that I reporte these thinges to thee of malice. How the generation [Page]Papisticall Bishops haue liued from me to time, histortes do declare. Hee [...]at was Bishop sometime of Cambray, [...] his booke de vitis Patrum, & de rebus estis Catholicorum, writeth how that in [...]raunce, Germanie, Italie, Spaine, and Eng­ [...]ande also, when the saying was Viuat Papa Romanus, Bishops liued more af­ter the example of Sodomites, Tyrians, & Sydonists, thē after y ^e example of true ver­tuous Christians. There was a Bishop (saith this writer) that was born in Ger­manie & dwelt there: when this Bishop was a boy, hée was so dull of conceining any thing y ^e was taught him by his mai­ster, that hée prouoked to himselfe more stripes then all the rest of the schollexs besides. This lad being werie of suf­fering more stripes and beatinges, made his prayer to our blessed Ladie Marie, the mother of our Lorde Iesu Christe, who being as it were ouercome with his often supplication, asked him at the last, what hee woulde haue: then answered the boy, the gift of learning. For now through defect thereof I am beaten with­out compassion. Our blessed Lady pow­red [Page]so much doctrine into his mouth, tha [...] hée was readie to crye, It is good? Ther [...] shée tolde him, that after the decease o [...] the Bishop of his Diocesse, hée should b [...] created a Bishop, and bée his successour This man soone after excelled his mai­ster in perfect knowledge of good Litera­ture, and after the discease of the Bishop hée became Bishop in his roome: but af­terwardes hée liued so sensually, and so voluptuously, y ^t hée surpassed the beastes of the field in sensualitie and voluptuous­nesse. For hée tooke the Nunnes out of their Monasterie and made them his bedfellowes, hée rauished his neighbours maidens, and defiled his neighbors beds, insomuche that vpon a time there came a voyce vnto him, and saide, Thou hast doone enough repent now: but hée lightly regarding what the voyce had told him, became worse & worse. Another time the voyce came, and tolde him againe, Thou hast doone enough nowe repent: but the next night, he tooke two Nunnes out of a Nunrie, and stept with them both. Then the spirite of illusion came, as they were a bed, in the forme of a man, and willed [Page] [...]e bishop tomake roome: who asked him owe hée entered into the chamber, the ore being lockt? The spirite answered, [...]at hée opened the doore by his cunning. Then hée asked him againe, how he durst [...]ée so bolde: but the spirite making no [...]nswere too this demaund, bad the Bi­ [...]hop make roome, without asking any [...]nore questions. Then the Bishop asked whence he was, he answered, from Hell: [...]hen saide the Bishop, what is it y ^e thou wouldest haue: then saide the Hellishe [...]pirite, come thy way, thou hast liued too [...]ong in pleasures and delights. These wordes being saide, hée tooke the Bishop and lifted him vp in the ayre, and letting him fall, bruised and mangled so piteous­ [...]y; y ^t it was horrible to be beholded. As [...]oone as the day light appeared, the Bi­shops seruāts being vp saw their master [...]ying dead on y ^e ground, very deformed & dissigured by the furious spirites of Hel. Hée writeth another historie in his booke of a certaine Bishop, who had a tempo­rall princely dignitie, beside his reuerend spirituall function. As this Bishop was on a day, riding abrode, there beheld him [Page]a farre of a poore husbande man, whom when the Bishop sawe, hée called vnt [...] him, and asked why hée behelde him [...] gréedily? Mary (quoth the poore man) was straunge in my sight, to sée you princely attyre, and your courtly rou [...] of valiant champions, and noble Gentl [...] ­women. Doest thou not know that am both a Secular Prince, and a Spir [...] ­tuall Bishop? Then answered the cou [...] ­try man, I knowe not so much, but sur [...] ­ly I thinke it is harde for a man to seru [...] God and the worlde, to bée chaste and [...] maintaine waiting gentlewomen. The [...] saide the Bishop, thou saiest truth, tha [...] beyng a Bishop, I must liue as a bishop but whereas thou séest I am a tempora [...] prince beside, I may flaunt in my braue­ry héere in this worlde, and doe God goo [...] seruice: I may kéepe as many men an [...] women as I liste. What followeth i [...] the Historie, thou maist reade my sonne at thy leasure. Thou mayest see (m [...] sonne) many such pretie histories in tha [...] Byshop of Cambrays booke full of delecta­tion. I wyll tell thée my sonne of on [...] Bishop that gote a childe by his owne [Page] [...]aughter, hée dwelt in Bauaria, and had [...]is daughter to kéepe his house, whom he [...]iked so well, that hée tryed the maisterie with her whether hée were able to geate a childe by her or no. But it so fell out, as it was reported at Inglestade that his [...]aughter was gotten with childe by her father. The Cardinall of Trent that [...]ately deceased gaue himselfe so much to drinking, that hée became a famous Clarke in that science, especially in the assemblie of swyll pottes. Many suche [...]elly Gods, horned Prelates, and oyled Priestly Bishops coulde I recite, but these fewe alreadie recited may contente thy minde, vntill thou hast séene with thine eyes what many of them bee in déede.

The Papistes blame the liues of our bishops very much: but surely compare their liues together, you shall sée, that they differ muche the one from the other.

Thou saiest truth, for al­beit there bée one or other that liueth not so vprightly as hée ought, yet where as one or other liueth otherwise then well, [Page]yet haue you the most parte liue very well, and are good Preachers. This to bée true all men knowe. To wade any farther in talke with thée at this present time, I may not, nor will: I may not, in respect of my businesse: nor will, for that I knowe the liues of these fewe Cardi­nals & Bishops, recited according to ve­ritie, may serue thée for a sufficient war­ning how to take héed of papistrie, being the religion of Diuels, and not of faith­full Christians. Adue my sonne, God blesse thée, and make thée his seruant, to doe his will as hée commaundeth, to thy Parents ioy, and thine owne comforte and consolation in Christe Iesu. Cleaue to the truth, bée mindfull of thy calling be warned in time to flie from iniquitie [...] once againe, farewell my sonne, and for­get not my wordes.

As you haue councelled mée to doe, so will I doe God willing: A­due good mother, god haue you in his kée­ping.

Holde héere, I giue thée foure score poundes, spend not too liberal­ly, least that thou want, and then find [...] [Page]none that will succour thée. Bée wise, cir­cumspect, humble, prouident, sober, pa­tient, and carefull.

I will: once againe a­due, god preserue you euermore, & graunt that I may returne happily vnto you a­gaine.

Amen, God graunt that thy returning home may bée as ioyfull to mée, as thy departure from home is troublesome and greeuous.

THus are these two former Dialogues fi­nished and ended: I must make hast to the thirde. And (courteous Reader) if thou be not alreadie tyred, in reading the fewe leaues going before, proceede a little further, and thou shalt see very pretie stuffe, and worthie to bee noted.

NOWE I haue for sa­ken the presence of my father and mother, and bidden adue to my lo­uing countrie. Nowe wil I frequent and vse the company of straun­gers, and trauell into sundrie forreigne soyles: now haue I hazarded my life to a thousande dangers, to danger of drow­ning, to hazzarde of robbing, to perill of murdering, I feare the raging waters, [Page]I dread the couetous robbers, and I mi­strust the cruell murderers. Good God, what shall I doe? I am compassed round about, and inuironed on euery side, howe shall I scape the imminent perils in eue­ry way? There lurketh a théefe in most woods through Fraunce, there are noteri­ous murtherers, I want companie, I knowe not the language. Good Lorde, what shall I doe? woulde God I were in Englande againe, I would I were with my father and mother, who loued mee so dearely, that no Parents more entire­ly coulde loue their children. But séeing I am thus farre out of my countrie, and am at Rhone, not farre from the famous Citie Paris, I will goe forwardes in my iourney, bée the way neuer so dangerous. Si Deus sit mecum, quis contra me? If God bee with mee, who can doe me any wrong? I sée a man comming behind mée a farre of, I will aske him whether he determi­neth to trauell. But I thinke by his ap­parrell, that hée is no scholler, wherefore I will first expect & looke for some words from his mouth, and if hée begin to speak Frenche, I will answere him in Latine, [Page]and by that meanes I shall prooue if hée be a scholler or no.

Dieu vous gard mon­fieur, ou voulez vous cheuaucher?

Amice mi, externus sums, & sermonem tuum non percipio: I am a stranger, & vnderstand not your wordes, Sed pace tua diverim (ni fallor) tua in Au­glia familiaritate quondam vsus sum, tem­pore Mariano. But with your good leaue I speake it, vnlesse I am deceiued, in Quéene Maries time wee were well ac­quainted in England.

Ie suis bien ioy [...]ux vostre trouue compaignie: si il vous, plaist, nous irons ensemble, d' ou estes vous? I am glad to haue your cōpanie, if it may please you, wée will goe together, whence are you?

I vnderstande you are no Latinist, but séeing that you speake French, I will answere you in English, if you bée hée whom I meane, you can speake the English tongue.

I vnderstand and can speake your language, & I am glad you haue not forgottē me, in déede in Quéene [Page]Maries time I haue liued in Englande, [...]nd fared very wel, with powdred béefe, [...]nd fat mutton, good wine, and strong [...]éere, in faring so daintily, and liuing so méerily, in fléeping so softly, & carousing so stoutely, I serued Thomas Becket, and my Ladie Anne of Cleue, I loked to their rotten bones, and swept the dust from their images, I did them good seruice, and therefore by their intercession I de­serued to redéeme many soules out of the boyling Cauldron of Purgatorie.

I reioyce, and am glad that it was my good lucke to finde you in this forreigne countrie. In déede I re­member your state very well, your life then surely was pleasant, you were cooke in the monasterie of Glastenburie, about fiftie yéeres agoe, you were then young and lustie, & coulde haue brought to your Abbots Chamber a pretie young damo­sell to kéepe him waking, and to comfort his wéery members féebled with ouer­much studies.

Your words are true, I was such a one as you speake of, then my diligence was acceptable to many [Page]an Abbot and Pryor, to many a Monke and Fryer, I haue gotten wealth by thē, obteined much pleasure, enioyed great e­stimation, by coupeling Male and Fe­male together: at the last they sawe mée so fortunate in bringing to passe those thinges which they had wished, that they promoted mée to bee the Clarke of the Monasterie Chappell. I had the preci­ous reliks of Thomas Becket, & my Lady Anne of Cleue in my custody, I had their images likewise in my kéeping.

I knowe my friende what you were in times past, therefore superfluous it shalbe to make many wordes of that matter: but I pray you tell me, whither are you bounding, what is your state and condition? where dwell you? and howe long haue you stayed in this Countrie?

For olde acquain­tance sake, curtesie mooueth mée to giue a direct & resolute answere to euery par­ticular demaund of yours. I intende to trauell to Italie, my state is not so happie as it hath béene, for now I am poore, then I was rich, now and then I haue money [Page]plentie, but then I had store alwayes. Haec est vicissitudo rerum. This is the course of the Cardes. I haue no cer­taine limitted dwelling, but sometimes I dwell in this Monasterie, sometimes in that, nowe in this Nunrie, and to morrowe in that, now in this Hospitall, nowe in that, nowe in this Countrie, in another soone after: nowe héere, nowe there: nowe I cannot tell where: Hanc viuo vitam, This life I leade in spight of the Diuell. Lastly, I tell you that in Fraunce, Germany, Italy, Bohemia, Polonia, Flaunders, Brabant, and Freezeland, I haue trauelled euer since the Coronation of this Quéene▪ Elizabeth.

Wherfore went you out of the Realme? and why returne you not againe?

I went out of the Realme for conscience sake, and because of religion.

What religion then do you professe?

Papistrie, otherwise (and that rightly) termed the Catholike faith, which I doe imbrace with all my [Page]hearte.

What doe I héere? Are you stil! a Papist▪ Will you neuer re­nounce the Pope with all his Traditi­ons and filthie abhominations? With all his idolatrie and superstitious Ceremo­nies? I pitie your case, alacke my friend, hath Satan blinded your eyes with the cloudie mist of ignorance, and hardened your heart as the flint or adamant stone? I lament your state, I bewayle your grosse errour, wherewith you are intan­gled. Oh my friende, for the loue I beare you, and for the olde acquaintance that hath béene-betwixte vs these many dayes, I councell you, for your owne sal­uation, for your own glory, & life euerla­sting, to examine your vnstable religion, grounded vpon a sandie and fickle foun­dation, which is easie to bée ouerthrowne with the leaste blast of winde that can bée.

To examine my re­ligion I haue no néede, it is warranted and grounded vpon a riche rocke, strong, & auaileable against all stormes, winds, and tempests, My religion standeth [Page]built vpon a good foundatiō, as the pope, [...]s Cardinals, Bishops, and Abbots, do [...]ouch and declare in their assemblies [...]nd councels generall.

Surely my friende thou [...]iest truth. For I hearde tell, that S. [...]eters Churche is builte vpon a little [...]ocke, very rich, I cannot denie it. For the Pope dwelleth fast by-it, and hath [...]he most of his treasure in that plott of [...]rounde. But your religion shoulde not [...]ée contrary to the truth of Christes hea­ [...]enly Gospell, though Saint Peters Churche were richer then it is, & though [...]he Pope and his Cardinals, with the [...]est of his adherentes, to kéepe their great titles, honours, dignities, and pro­motions, boldly say that the Romishe faith is the true religion.

My friend Trisander, the Pope hath larger reuenewes then a­ny Prince in Christendome, why there­fore is hée not Christes Vicegerent? And the Church of Saint Peter is the costli­est Church in the worlde, in many re­spects, why therefore is not the Church of S. Peter the holy Catholike Church? [Page]the holy ghost, in the fourme of an ow [...] hath confirmed this faith before the fa [...] of a Councell, and in the presence of t [...] Pope himselfe. Therefore assure yo [...] selfe, this is the Catholike faith, whi [...] I holde and allowe. This is the tr [...] religion confirmed by the Pope.

O my friende, thou a [...] fouly deceiued. For the holy Ghoste wont to appeare in the forme of a Dou [...] but not in the likenesse of an owle. Th [...] Pope is not able to establish true relig [...] ­on, but hée can peruert all truth, for th [...] hée fitteth in the chayre of pestilence, an [...] claimeth to himself supremacie on eart [...] But I purpose not to discusse of religio [...] séeing that I haue no sufficient leasu [...] & oportunitie thereunto: but this brief [...] I tell thée, giue ouer thy lewde opinio [...] and let vs both trauell together as tw [...] brethren, and reconciled Christians. Fo [...] sometimes I was of thy religion, albei [...] not in all pointes.

Let wordes of reli­gion passe by, and let vs talke of our long and tedious voyage, which wée haue to take.

I am content, let vs do you haue said. How many miles haue [...]ée now to Paris?

Thrée short miles.

What is it of the clocke? [...]ay wée bée at the Citie before night?

It is one of the clock, [...]d easily before the going downe of the [...]unne wee may beat Paris.

Let vs ride a pace, where shal [...]e finde good lodging?

Doe not you care for [...]hat, wée shall bée very well entertamed [...]y the Prior of Saint Dominicks Mona­ [...]erie, and our good fare shall cost vs no­ [...]hing.

But can my Lorde Pri­ [...]r speake English?

Not a worde, but he [...]peaketh Latine, no man better then [...]ée.

I am glad that hée spea­keth Latin so well, but is he so vertuous that hee will so friendly receiue into his Monasterie such trauellers as I am?

Hée is very vertuous. But this I forewarne you of, that if you [Page]sée him with others of his Cloyster wal­king after supper to the fieldes, and ma­ny of the Parisian Cleargie sporting in the faire meddowes, speake not a worde, if (after their woonted maner) man with man worke filthinesse, as Sainte Paul writeth in the first Chapter to the Romans, That some men leaue the natu­rall vse of the women, and burne in their lustes one with another. This thing hath béene doone this long time, and this wickednesse is as yet practised amongest them secretely.

In the booke of the Bi­shop of Cambray I haue read of this abho­mination, vsed most commonly amongst the Parisian Cleargie: and whether in those places as yet they vse the like fil­thinesse, I cannot tell: but surely I am perswaded, that at home in their houses they are not ashamed to defile thēselues one with another. For I resorting to som of their houses as a stranger, might easi­ly gather by their vnseemely playing one with another, that their life is Sodomi­ticall: and by their carnall and venereal talke, a man may rightly hee persuaded, [Page]that they liue as the Sodomites and Go­morreans did.

They had rather liue like Sodomites, then bée married, as the ministers of y ^e reformed churches are, for the auoiding of all occasions of these carnall and fleshly pranckes. I will bring thée my friende to manie Monaste­ries in the Popish Countries, where it is the Monkes and Friers custome to practise the vices specified by S. Paule, in the first Chapter to the Romans. At Shalome in Burgundie thrée Monks were taken in doing this déede, and were bani­shed the Citie. A German Prieste, and a Frenche Priest of the Cathedrall Churche there, in the saide Citie, will not bée ashamed to offer this villanie to straungers that come to their houses. This vice, and iniquitie aboundeth in most places amongst the Monkes, Fri­ers, and Priestes. At Troy, albeit by the Magistrates they are sore punished, for associating themselues to the company of lewde women, yet for all that, there is no woman but shée shall bée welcome to their bed and boord. I trauelled the most [Page]townes in Fraunce, in Anno, Dom. 1578. And I coulde come to no Monasterie, but that I founde one or other in that Cloyster hauing in his chamber a fayre wayting Gentlewoman. On a certaine time it fortuned, as I came to a Cloyster in the Dolphine of Fraunce, to séeke some reliefe of the Prior of that Monasterie, I met the Subprior, and hée demanding from whence I came, and whither I woulde wander, caused mée to come to his chamber, and there was in his bed a woman groning, as though shee had béene with childe. I was so bolde to aske the Subprior what shée was, and hée an­swered, his sister. I being a stranger and merily disposed, I knowe by her counte­nance, said I, and vnderstand by her gro­ning, that your sister is with child. Then spake the Subprior, and are you a Phisi­tion, that you vnderstand so much by my sister, that shée is conceaued? Yea mary doe I, quoth I, and I am a Phisition. Then smiled the subprior, and said, sure­ly my friende, thou art welcome, and bee thou assured of any friendship that I can shewe thée, thou hast iudged right by this [Page]woman, shée is with childe, shée is not my sister, but my Concubine, I had ra­ther naturally deale with a woman, thē vnnaturally and Sodomittically defile my body with a man. Many of my bre­thren, the Benedicts, kéepe maid seruants to looke to their chambers, and to be their bedfellowes, and by that meanes they a­noyde the offence of pollution, and the o­ther crime Sodomiticall: but my friende holde two franckes, goe to the butterie, take some meate, and goe forwardes in thy iourney, tell no body those thinges which thou hast séene and hearde. Ga­ramercie with all my hearte (quoth I) good maister Subprior, I will conceale whatsoeuer I haue heard and séene. At Lions in Fraunce, as I came to the Nun­rie of Saint Bridgit, crauing some reliefe, I found them very courteous, sober, and quiet, and some of them so still, that the braue youthes might doe with them as they would? Maister Pound (who is now gone to Hierusalem) as hée himselfe repor­ted vnto mée often, secretely plaide with two of the Nunnes, and in one bed with eache one of them said his breuiarie. One [Page]of y ^e Nuns loued this M. Pound a gentle man Priest so well, that in all his iour­ney to Rome, and the world throughout, shée woulde bée his clarke, and forsake her sisters.

Truly good companion, these Monkes and Fryers are manifeste hypocrites, and woe and sorrowe shall bée their rewarde. They pretende chasti­tie, and liue (as thou saiest) Sodomitical­ly: they suffer themselues ouer easily to bée snarled by the allurementes of the fleshe, and yet they will hée counted holy Fathers, good liuers, and the adopted children of Christe. But vnlesse they reforme their vitious maners, and corrupt life, I cannot sée howe these men may rightly bée named the seruantes of the most highest, and the lawfull inheri­tours of the incorruptible crowne of e­ternall happinesse. Howe doe they think to excuse thēselues in the sight of Christe our Sauiour, that dissemble thus with the worlde? Doe they persuate them­selues that they are virgins, and shall ob­taine the glorious and vncorrupted re­ward of virginitie, because the worlde [Page]doth iudge them chast virgins: Let the people imagine of them selues as they will, hyporrisie may not, nor shall escape vnpunished at the dreadfull day of iudge­ment. Doe they thinke, that because they intrude them selues into Monasteries & Nunneries, they are able to kéepe their virginitie vndefiled, & able to performe the vowe of chastitie? nay surely, dayly experience teacheth, & the eiesight testifi­eth, that Monkes and Friers, are no o­therwise able to refraine the lusts of the fleshs, then men liuing in the worlde. These hypocrites say that they liue out of the worlde, only for that they are en­straunged and seigned from the common assembly of the secular people: and that their conuersation sauoureth not of the woolde. These are their wordes, but their déedes are contrary: they say they forsake the worlde, but yet they will not despise the thinges that are in the world, as high titles, good estimation, great cre­dite; large possessiōs, ample reuenewes, full purses of gold and siluer, faire buil­dinges, goodly orchards, and delight some gardens. They say they are not of the [Page]world, but yet the pompe, pride, and glo­ry of the worlde, the vanitie, wealth, fe­licitie, brauery, and iolitie of this earth, and of earthly thinges, with daliance, pa­stime, eating, drinking excessiuely, and al other sensuall delightes and desires, ser­uing to carnall appetite, they highly e­shéeme and magnifie. And albeit they sequester themselues from the common company of y ^e secular people, yet their life is not a whit more holy then theirs: yea, to say the truth, their condition is farre worse then theirs. They haue vowed chastitie, but who more vnchast then they? They haue named themselues vir­gins; but who more defiled, and more in­continent then they? Howe periuriously they haue violated their rash [...] and vnad­uised vow of continencie, histories make mention. The artificiall and secrete places to kéepe their concubines in many places of Englande, doe plainely notifie to vs all, that they were incontinent vi­olatours of their professed vowe, and a­busers of the people, in causing them to beléeue, that they were the [...]hast and vn­defiled members of the holy Ghost. Ni­gellus [Page]wireker saith, in speculo stultorum.

Thus are these verses englished of Sempingham.

The same Nigellus writeth moreouer, these verses following.

Thus are they to bée englished.

Nigellus the foresaid Poet, doth large­ly touch the corrupt liuing and hypocri­sie of his time, chiefly in bishops, priests, Abbots, Monkes, Canons, and Nunnes. His booke is all in old Latine verses, and is named the Glasse of Fooles, that euery dissolute Prelate might beholde his folly therein. Of the Monkes and Friers he giueth this iudgement among other.

This also he writeth of the Nunnes.

Muche more of the Lecherous liues of [Page]Monks and Nunnes hath this Poet Ni­gellus written. Geraldus Cambrensis decla­reth in the 2. part of his worke, called the Glasse of the Church, Cap. viii. that by the Sea Coast a shée fish was founde of a wonderfull greatnesse, called a Thirle Poole. The people in great number came from al quarters there about, some to be­holde the monstrous shape of y ^e fishe, and some to cut it in péeces & to carry them home to their houses, for some profi­table vse. Among all other there was a Monke more quicke and stéering to per­ceiue all thinges then any other there: This monke drawing very néere to the fishe, behelde, viewed, and marked the priuie part thereof aboue all whiche (the historie saith) was as it had béene the o­pening of a great doore or gate: hée looked thereupon very seriously, & much won­dred, neither coulde hée in any wise bee satisfied with the sight thereof: at the last without modestie, shame, and all bashe­fulnesse, hée approched somewhat nigh, that by the stime and fatnesse thereof, whiche then lay vpon the sande, his footing failed him and hée fell flat into [Page]the foule hole, so hée was swallowed vp of that which his lecherous hearte most desired. This Adage then was founde true, such Saint, such shrine, suche béere, such botell, and such treasure, such trust. Many suche vitious & lecherous monkes coulde I recite, but because I am persua­ded these fewe may suffice the Reader, I passe them ouer, and referre the Reader to the histories of euerie age, since the be­ginning of this monkish and solitarie life. When Antichrist chiefly raigned in the consciences of men, and when his doctrine repugnant against GOD his worde most floorished in all quarters of Christendome, yet God did raise vp some that boldly spake in publike assemblies, and with great boldnesse wrote against the Pope and his poysoned doctrine. In their bookes a man may reade howe wic­kedly and hypocritically the Papisticall votaries liued. But louing companion I pray you tell mee howe doe the other monkes, Friers, and Nunnes, liue in the Countries, which you haue trauelled, be­sides the Cities before specified?

Surely they liue ve­ry [Page]vnchastly and loosely, as I haue decla­red of some alreadie. At Granoble in Fraunce there was an Augustinian Frier, who in his talke, apparrell, and gesture, in the presence of the Citizens appeared very religious, godly, and deuout: but this man had no good fortune. For as he Sodomitically medled with a sworne brother of his own professiō, hee was ta­ken doing the déede: but this horrible fault being forgiuen vpon his deniall, hée was at an other time apprehended and imprisoned, for y ^e vnder a rocke, nigh the foresaid Citie Granoble hée crackt a louse in a whoores Codyéece. At Shalome in Sa­uoy there were two Dominicās, that were in outwarde conuersation like Angels of heauen, but yet they loued the woman kinde so well, that they studied more in making a Caue in a Rocke, not far from the Citie before mentioned, to entertaine two young queanes, thē they indeuoured to perfourme their Frierly vowe of cha­stitie. Their often walking from theyr Cloysters, to these caues, bewrayed them at last, and made them infamous amōgst the Citizens. This thing was doone in [Page]the yéere of the Lorde, 1578; and the in­famie thereof was bruted in the Citie, at my being there.

Oh my friend and fel­lowe traueller, hast thou séene the horri­ble abuses of these monstrous and ougly hypocrites, and wilt thou not condemne their idolatrous doctrine, and superstiti­ous Ceremonies, tending to the perpetu­all destruction both of body and soule? What do they professe, but a religion in­uented by man, for his worldely gaine and honour, not conformeable to Gods worde, but agréeable to the Popes will and commaundement? What is their life, but Pharisaicall, iniurious, lasciui­ous, lecherous, & sodomiticall? They talk of heauen, but they walke not to hea­uen, they bragge of chastitie, but they kéepe concubines, or els do much worse: they defile thēselues one man w ^c another they speake of iustificatiō by good works, but they haue no good workes, but vice, as buggerry, adulterie, fornication, fraud, tyrannie, ambition, couetousnesse, and all vncharitablenesse: they talke of Christ, but haue no experience of him, nor any [Page]acquaintance with him: they honour him with their lippes, but their hearte hungreth not after him: outwardly they professe him, but inwardly they passe not for him: in the hearing of men they vt­terly forsake the worlde, but in the sight of men they imbrace the worlde. The Scripture calleth the worlde, as it is written in the first of Iohn. 2.5. The ambition, the couetousnesse, the lechery, and all those other thinges, that Sauour of nothing els but the flesh: so that the fleshe, the worlde, & the Diuell, are those thrée furies, that with their firebrands, and serpents, make an interming ling & confusion of all thinges. The fat bel­lied Monkes and Friers, that say they forsake the world, carry it with them in­to the monasteries. For without doubt, it is not possible to sée the worlde better than in the monasteries, where a man shall sée nothing els, but affections and passions of the minde, with the whiche they seeke to aduaunce themselues, or to driue one another out of the doores. Oh that men will suffer themselues to bee thus mocked and deluded, by these Fri­erly [Page]shauelings, that indeuour as much as they may in deceiuing the people with counterfet holynesse, to liue like Epicu­res, and to bée estéemed as Lordlinges. Oh that men shoulde credite these Pha­risaicall hypocrites, that more regarde the pampering of their bodies, then the saluation of the soules of men, which is the end of our hope and faith, yea, the ve­ry ende of our life in this life. Oh that men cannot sée howe they fight againste the Gospel, and séeke to ouerthrow faith with superstition, couered with the cloke of true holynesse. Oh that men will not perceiue howe eache one of these mon­strous marked Friers trauelleth to séeke out some newe toy, therewith to drawe the common people vnto him, who are full of wandering. Doe they not sée that they prepare newe fashioned hoods, strange and horrible Ceremonies, not séene in the worlde past, but reserued to oppugne the truth of the Gospell? What Christian is hée that séeth not their hypo­crisie, that vnderstandeth not their frau­dulent superstition, wherwith the foolish people is inneigled? what true beléeuer [Page]of the Gospel, thinketh, that to weare the wéede of S. Fraunces, or to goe clothed in that colour, is good against the quar­tane Ague, and other diseases, and (that worse is) that to be buried in that habite, is the very right way to goe to heauen? And therefore that cunning man Longo­lius, leauing y ^e name of a citizen of Rome, (in whose practise hée had so long labou­red) woulde bée laid in his graue a Fraun­ciscane rather then a Romane. This selfe same honour had the Lord Albert of Car­pi in his head, Rodulphus Agricola, and o­ther innumerable. But what néede so many wordes? These Friers are come to that point, with that opinion of holy­nesse, that they haue rid themselues out of all other mens hands and authoritie, and haue brought all other men vnder their fée. Who knoweth not, that in olde times pastil when learning and good studies were layde a sléepe, that all men held them for God Almighties kins­men? And estéemed more of their com­maundements, then of the commaunde­ments of God. And they knewe not Christe, whom the Gospell doth plainely [Page]set foorth vnto vs, which they kéepe in prison. And sith they onely had the han­delyng of the booke of peace and libertie, the commō people thought that they had taken all thinges out of that booke, and with cursed and abhominable lyes, they tooke out héere a péece, and there a péece, and with strange & fearefull myracles, and fayned dreames of Purgatorie, they kept the poore people in so great feare and woonder, that they were constrained to beléeue their wicked deuises and lyes. I [...] we consider their lawes, and the waights and beaute burthens, that they haue laid vpon mens shoulders, wee shall truely say, that the Iewes lawe is an hundreth times more pleasant & easie than theirs: but let these wordes passe. Euery Chri­stian (I am sure) knoweth, that by the Diuels Rhetorike, they make the world beléeue too too many manifeste fashoods. and foolish toyes of the Diuels inuenti­on, these Monkishe fathers séeke to bee Iudges ouer them that are godlier then they themselues, and lesse spotted with any worldly affection: they haue the bare name of Saints and nothing els. Oh [Page]what a presumptuous boldnesse is this? to vsurpe the names of Saints, and vn­der that godly name to deceiue y ^e world? vnder the forme of an Angell of light, to worke all their deceites? their Coates, hoods, and sundry colours, are deuised by the Diuell, to deceiue the worlde. For if they were the same that they woulde be counted, what néede shoulde there bée of such disguised garments? the which (say they) doe signifie that whiche they ought to bée. This is a cléere case, that while there is a shadow and signification of the thing, there is not the thing it selfe. If they were so in déede, then what shoulde they néed séek to be so in shew? outward­ly they are one thing, and inwardly ano­ther. Of such the gospel maketh men­tion, which saith, that there shall come wolues to deuour vs, cladde in shéepes skins, because they will not bée knowne. For right well we know, that one shéepe eateth not an other. If these Monkes vsed not such strange garmentes, there shoulde not bée so many seduced from the truth. The Diuell is craftie, and hee knoweth howe prone and readie wée bée [Page]to beléeue euery toy & trifle, euery coun­terfet holinesse, and superstitious hypo­crisie, he oftentimes transfourmeth him­selfe in his members, to an Angell of light, hée informeth and teacheth his chil­dren to frame them selues alter the ma­ner of hypocrites. This auncient ad­uersarie of ours maketh his seruāts lear­ned, & skilful in his art: he maketh thē to goe bare legged, and bare footed, to put on shirtes of haire, that by meanes of their outwarde austeritie in apparrell, and foode, the people may proclaime them as Saintes, and honour them as Gods om­nipotent, and finally beléeue (whatsoeuer they teache) their wordes to bée Euange­licall. How Monkes and Friers haue liued from time to time, I néede not to write, for that others haue sufficiently written thereof.

Now louing friend Tri­sander tell mée, how do the Monkes and Friers liue nowe, in these Countries, which thou hast trauelled, I long to heare, I pray thée informe mée.

Before I satisfie your pe­tition, I am so bolde as to request you, [Page](for that I think you haue read more hi­stories then I haue doone) to make re­hearsall of some notable Monkes liues, of their enormities and ill behauiours in their Diabolicall & pernicious function.

I will tell thée of the iuggling of hypocriticall Friers espied at Orleance, as writeth Sleydane in his ix. booke of his Cronicles. In Orleance a Citie in Fraunce, it is not long since the Presidents wife dyed, a noble and great woman, who ordained by her Testa­ment, that they shoulde carry her to bée buried without light, without Masses, and without any maner of pompe: and in déede shée was buried so in the mona­sterie of the Friers of Saint Fraunces. A­none after they beganne to heare in that place horrible noyces, vntill one of those Massemumblers turning his backe to y ^e people, shewed them their rounde God made of dough. When this was once spread abroade, euery man was mooued, one saide hée heard it, one said hée vnder­stood it, and another saide hée sawe all. The husband hearing this, came thither himselfe. Then doth the Coniurer binde [Page]the spirite to answere to his questions, and asked it shée were in Paradice, and there was no answere made: hée asked if shée were in hell, and yet there was no answere: he asked if she came from pur­gatorie, and then the spirite made a great rushing against the wall. Then did the Coniurer aske, whether hée was suche a one, or such a one, naming many and sun­drie persons that dyed long agoe, and yet there was no answere heard, nor no ma­ner of noyse, but when hee named the woman y ^e was buried without pompe, then the spirite made two great rushings against the wall, then did the Coniurer aske whether shée were condemned for this or that cause: and in the end the spi­rite saide, because shée was a Lutheraue. Then was hearde thrée great rushes a­gainst the wall. The husband being a wise and circumspect man, marked eue­ry thing, and made as though hee had much maruelled at the matter, and desi­red those wolues to Supper: and the day following, caused an hundred Masses to bée saide, and to light a whole worlde of candles. The wolues howled, they sent [Page]their Gods into Purgatorie, wet the graue with vnholy water, and perfumed it with Frankinsence: and when this was doone, carried the Friers into din­ner, and in the meane season sent the of­ficers to the place where this deceit was doone, where they found certaine vautes and there within were thrée spirites hid­dē, whom they tooke & carried away. But howe coulde they doe this considering that they are spirites and no bodies?

That is soone answered. For these were of those spirits that haue bodies, of whome Saint Augustine spea­keth, and of which sorte almost all those that dwell in Monasteries are.

But were they not spirites in déede?

Thou art very grosse, they were thrée Friers of those that they call Nouices, that is too saye, suche as know not yet very well the sleightes and falsehoodes of the Friers. And in déede the Monasteries are euen ful of de­ceipres, and the worlde is very blinde in that they espie them not. In Turine also of late, the like matter hath béen séene [Page]well, the officers hauing found the bugs that made them a feard, lead them away like thrée little Diuels (as they were) into the place, where the other great Di­uels were at meat, who whē they knew their knauery bewrayed, as men all dumbe, they began to looke one vpon an­other, and with shame enough were pu­nished afterwardes and rewarded accor­ding to their demerites.

Such feates plaid by the Monkes I haue knowne full oft. Wherefore this is no rare thing where­of thou tellest. It was tolde mée that the like thing was doone in Polonia, and for­asmuch as this is an vsual craft amongst them, as histories doe write, and as Ci­ties and townes doe testifie, who haue séene these deceites practised amongest them, I meane not to speake heereof any more, but of their iugling in other re­spects I purpose to say somwhat as shall bée profitable for thée to heare, for thy greater instruction, & shall not be hurtful vnto me in vttering y ^e same for the obser­uation of true fellowship in brotherly companie. Wherefore giue attentiue [Page]eare, and diligently marke what shall bée reuealed vnto thée.

I will, say on.

At Versillis, a notorious false Frier desirous to get money, vnder colour of religion, entised a rich widdow, and carried her away with him to Naples and from thence to other Cities and Townes. At Verona a Citie in Italie, in the yéere of our Lorde, 1578. There was a false théese, a Frier of the order of the Minorites Franciscanes, that hadde put into the heades of the foolish women this opinion, that they must giue to the Churche the tenth of al things, and euen in like maner, the tenth night as they doe w ^t their husbands. In a Monasterie not farre from Palestro, there was a Monke named Padre Francisco, that loued laced mutton so well, y ^e oftentimes he woulde take the bridles bit in his mouth, & cause his Iillian to kicke him with her féete, and then hée woulde gallop as though he had béene a horse: But surely not as wise as a horse. At Vigleuano in Lombardie, 1578. There was a Dominican preacher, that was counted vertuous, learned, and [Page]eloquent, yet hée loued Nunnes with all his heu [...]te, with this man I haue kepts company, very often, at the commaunde­ment of my Lorde Bishop of that citie Vigleuane. This man in the Pulpet was very earnest, hée made the place where hée stoode to shake, he spake very empha­tirally to the crosse that stood before him, he spake mightily, & sweated very much, a man woulde surely haue thought, if he had heard him, that he had béen a Saint in liuing and conuersation, for that so [...]toutly he rebuked vice, and in preaching maintayned vertue. But from suche hypocriticall Saints, libera nos Domine. This Dominican Frier, at euening time, would repaire to his brethrē of the same profession, and the Prior or Subprior, with some other of the society, alwayes would kéepe him company to the Nun­nery of Saint Brigit, and there this gen­tleman Frier, with the rest of his com­pany, woulde shriue the Nunnes in the darke. Their kissing and vngodly beha­uiour, their vnchaste woords, & vnséeme­ly handeling eche other, were demon­stratiue tokens of their incontinencie. [Page]Prate they til their tongue bée worne to the stumps, & write they til their fingers bée not able to hold a pen, they shall ne­uer make mée beléeue that Friers and Nunnes bée chaste virgins, when they commit such vnchast dealinges secretly, let the Friers (if they wilbe chast) bridle their lasciuious affections, let the nūnes in like wise, forsake the suspitious com­pany of dissolute Friers, let them fast & pray, or if they haue not the gift of conti­nencie, let them marrie according to the counsel and aduise of S. Paule, who ad­uertiseth the incontinent to liue in holie wedlocke, and thereby to auoyde forni­catiō, it is hard for them to beguile now the world as they haue in times past, the people haue alredy smelled out their dis­solute & lasciuious liuing. Now it is time for thē to repent and amend their sinfull liues it is time for to renounce their hy­pocrisy. For surely it is impossible for thē to bring the people in this beliefe y ^e their life is chast, séeing by daily experiēce they are taught, otherwise, y ^t they liue vnho­nestly and vnchastly, so that vnles they recant in time, before it be too late, woe & destructiō shalbe their end.

These Friers and Nunnes obserue the saying of Bennet, who taught his dis­ciples if they could not liue chastly, then to worke closly. These Monkes abrode in the sight of the worlde looke as though they cared for no women, but in the darke, with Iilian and Ione, they loue good iumbling, they dread not God that sitteth aboue, For all is but play, and as they do say, the night must vade away. This Domini­can preacher I am sure, with the rest of his company, in the face of the worlde appeared as saintes: the woordes they spake sauoured of holinesse, in gesture, in countenance, & in outward appearaunce, they were as Angels, holy, & holy, & dou­ble holy, and more then holy: they blinded the people with their counterfeit shewe of holinesse, and made them selues to bee honoured amongst the silly people as god almighties kinsmen. This Dominican preacher, with the Bishops secretarie, in my presence ful off woulde vse Sodomi­ticall woordes. It is not possible almost to speake of that honestly, which both preacher & secretary so vnhonesty spake and did. I was ashamed to heare their [Page]beastly talke, but they were shamelesse to vtter such ribauldrie. The like in Eng­land I neuer heard, & God graunt I may neuer heare the like. In another Augusti­nian monasterie of that citie, I was well acquainted, and beloued also of many, so that in going with them to the Nunne­ries, I sawe many horrible practises, and detestable abuses amongst them, which shamefastnes doth forbidde me to receite. An Augustian confessour, hauing heard the confession of a Flemming, inioyned him in his pennance, that hee shoulde visite Ma­donna diloreto, and offer his gift at her al­ter, & craue her intercession to her sonne Iesus Christ: In the meane while, this incontinent and vnchaste Fryer sleapt with his wife, and being taken naked in bedde by the officers of the Citie: they let him go to his monasterie w ^cout any trou­ble or punishmēt, for y ^t he was a graue fa­ther & eloquent preacher. At Auspurgh in Germanie, there was a monke that craued leaue of his superiours, to visite the holye sepulchre at Hierusalem, and at Venice. As I was lodged with him at Realto, at the signe of the George, I fel in acquaintance with him, and he made me priuie of his [Page]counsell very often: he woulde haue inti­sed mee, (had I not auoyded his intice­ments by lawful excuses vnknowen vn­to him) to the Burdello, to the place where lewde women dwelled, a streete full of naughtie packes, amongst whom he was alwayes conuersant, and adioyning to the streete where our lodging was. I as­ked this M [...]nke on a time with what de­uotion he tooke his Pilgrimage to Hieru­salem, haunting (as hee did) the Brothell houses? hee answered, that what sinnes he had cōmitted in his life time, & in his pilgrimage, should soone after his arriual to Hierusalem bee forgiuen and forgotten. At Bolognia I mette with a Frier and an Nunne, that tooke their Pilgrimage to Madonna diloreto: this Fryer called this Nun his wife in y ^e viteling houses where hee came: for he traueiled like a Gentle­man, and she like a Gentlewoman. For they had put off their frierly and Nun­nish weede. I went with them euen to that idole of Madonna, kept them compa­ny, & saw howe in our iourney one bedde serued them twaine. This Frier verye craftely couered his head with a great [Page]coife, that his shauen crowne might not bee seene. How when we came to Madon­na diloreto, (a little before they changed their garmentes) they went in their pro­fessed weedes, and were as deuout in a­ny mans iudgement, as saint Frances and saint Clare. Howe they returned home I can not tell, for I bare them company no longer. At Serauallis I mette a Neapolitan, whome accōpaned w ^t a braue Italian whō shee called brother: these two slept in one chamber, & what they did, I cannot tell, but surely I sawe right well in the fields that vnder a hedge they played as man and wife. I was a meere straunger, and therefore they had the lesse feare to doe what they woulde. I kept them company foure dayes, & all that while both brother and sister did as man and wife woulde haue done in secrete. It is no newes to heare howe that Monkes and Fryers in their Pilgrimage, resorte to the Brothell houses: for it is a common thing amongst them. At Pauia in Italie, there was a Bene­dictine, that asked leaue of his superiours to visite Madonna di loreto, & a Nun like­wise craued licence of her Prioresse, to [Page]visite the saide idole of Loreto. This Nun and Fryer mette together at Venice and there renewed dide friendshippe, in kis­sing & lulling and in playing the parte of man and wife: they forgot that they had vowed chastitie, they woulde no longer be continent he at a foyle, and shee at de­fence made them selues readie and apte, they went forwardes in their peregrina­tion, with kissing, embracing, & playing eche one with the other vnchastly. A fryer out of Cicilia came in deuotion to Madonna di loreto likewise, with a stolen Nunne from his countrey, as I came from Madonna di loreto in vrbin a citie in Italie, I mette this lustie fryer with Itli­an his louing saint, whome hee woulde néedes haue in his bedde to pray vnto: his shauen crowne was couered with a coife, that hee might bee taken for a temporall man, for so he would seem to be, although he was not. In rome 1580 an Augustiniā Fryer was imprisonned, for that he had slaine a man. This frier (by report) was a preacher, and of vnchaste liuing, hee had slayne either two or thrée, & yet was ne­uer executed, the fact being wilfull: belike [Page]hee had some good friendes, otherwise he had suffered as malefactour & Homicide. Trauel (my friend) al I talie, Polonia, Bohe­mia, part of Germinie, and throughout all these countreys thou shalt heare people complaine of their Buggerie, (for the which no lesse then twelue Monkes at once were hanged at Rome) of fornicati­on, adultery, incest, bloodshed, and the ue­rie. If they couet to satisfie their carnall appetite, if they couet to steale, if they de­sire to fare delicately, if they intende to raunge y ^e countrey frō place to place, thē must they fayne to their Abbots, or Pry­ors, y ^e they haue vowed to visit either Ma­donna di loreto, or the sepulchre of the Lorde at Hierusalem, or the place where saint Frauncis bodie hangeth in the ayre, not touching the earth, but miraculously hanging between the firmament and the earth, wearing a golden ring on his sin­ger, which a Pope of Rome in comman­dement gaue him to put on. And in that place (say the Pilgrime Papistes) remayneth his bodye vncorrupted, béeyng there fiue hundreth yéeres at least. Or else the Friers and Monkes [Page]goe on Pilgrimage to the Tumbe of S. Andrew the Apostle, out of which floweth cléere oyle, profitable to heale many dis­eases. The Nunnes obtaine leaue to the like places, and on the way they méete their Paramours, whom in curtezane (curteous I would say) maner they kisse and licke with stretched out tongue, and white lilie lippes. They vse such daliance one with the other, as I am lothe to de­clare. Their songues sauour of nothing else but ribauldry, and abhomination. God graunt them repentance, and make them his seruantes: for surely they doe amisse, & violate their oth, breake Gods holy commaundement, and woonderful­ly abuse his diuine Maiesty. They would be counted holy Virgins, and deuoute fa­thers, albeit they are painted sepulchers, and vitious hypocrites. At Millan there were two Monkes that so hated Cardi­nall Brhomeo, for that hée endeuoured to reforme their loose liuing, that as this Cardinall was at Masse, one of thē char­ged a dagge towardes him. But as For­tune fauoured this Cardinall, the bullet flew vnder his arme, and was not found [Page]betwéene his shirt and his skinne, as hée that wrote in his booke of the discouery of Iohn Nichols falsly reporteth. For at Mil­lan the Cardinals confessour tolde mée the cōtrary. Surely it was a weake bul­let, weaker then a bullet of paper, that could not pearcethrough his body, hauing no other thing for defence, but his thinne Garmentes about him. Hee that shooted towardes him, was not farre from the place where he saide Masse. Therefore it is an vntruth, that the bullet was found betwixt his skinne and his shirt. I could say muche more then I haue recited of the vngodly liues of Monkes, Friers, and Nunnes, & yet not excéede the bands of truth. A priest of their owne order, & sometimes bishop of Cambray, wrote ve­ry amply, at large, of the corrupt liuing of these lazie lubbers, fat bellied Monks. If hée béeyng one of their crewe discoue­red so much of their grieuous & abhomi­nable wickednes, why shold not I write what I haue seene with mine eyes, prac­tised lewdly amongst them? and why shoulde I notifie to thee my fellowe com­panion, the hypocrisie and dissimula­tion [Page]of these vncleane and incontinent Monkes, Fryers, and Nunnes.

Thou hast delighted my hearing very much, in thy discouerye of the liues of certaine Monkes, Fryers, and Nunnes. That I met such a compa­nion I am very glad, I hope by the grace of God, & y ^e recordatiō of the wickednesse of these votaries, thou art free from all papisticall contagion, with superstitious ceremonies, and venemous idolatrie. Nowe let vs in one faith, and in one mind serue God dayly, & hourely. Let vs lyke true Christian Pilgrimes trauell to far­ther countreis, that we may see what re­ligion they haue, and howe they doe liue. Goe swifter, amende your pace, the night approcheth: we are strangers, and if wee come too late, wee shall be vnprouided of our lodging.

Content, let vs go a­pace: here in this Inne I will take my rest for this night: goe you to the other, lest we be suspected for spies. Good night, rise earely in the morning.

I will God willing, go [...] giue you good night also.

GOod morrowe louing companion how were you entertayned to night? What lodging haue you founde?

My entertainmēt was good, I praye you tell me how was yours?

Truely louing compani­on, woorse lodging I neuer founde in all my life: my Hostesse did frowne, and [Page]mine Host did chafe, because I woulde not paye willingly thrée Iulies for one. My bed was very harde, and my shéetes were somewhat scabbed: yet durst I not speake boldly, and saye, that I was sore misused. But I healde my peace, and when I saw them angry, I did what I could to content their mindes by paying them more then was their due. There­fore I say farewell that Inne, I will ne­uer lodge there any more. Nowe let vs be goyng forwards in our iourney y ^e wée may the sooner shorten both y ^e time, & the way: and passe through it with the lesse tediousnes, let vs talk of sōwhat woorth the marking. And for as muche as thou art the better learned, and most able to discouer the wicked liues of idolatrous Papistes, both by reading of diuers no­table hystories, as also by the experience that thou hast had amongst them, I craue of thée to tell me how the Iesuites liue, and what their profession is? For surely they are of great fame, and many thinke they are as holye as the Scribes & Pha­risies, who were the greatest hypocrites amongest the Iewes.

To tell thee the origi­nall of these Iesuites, I think it be but lost labour: forasmuch as Maister Hanmer hath so displayde their originall and suc­cesse, their vowe and othe, their hyyocri­sie and superstition, with their docttrine & positions, that to speake more thereof, (excepte of that whiche I haue séene and heard) I thinke it but vanitie. Thou as­kest me how they liue? I aunswere (as conference, familiaritie, & acquaintance taught me) they liue spotted with hypo­crisie, they pretend holinesse, but woorke wickednesse. For they haue fayned a newe profession, a newe and strange ti­tle, neuer heard of before. They were a­shamed to be named Christians, and for this cause they called themselues Iesu­ites, that is of Iesu. And why? because they vamely persuade thēselues, y ^e perfect & absolute holines cōsisteth in their socie­ty only. Otherwise these sowgelders (Ie­suites I would say) should be afrayde to take vpon thē such a glorious name, as passeth all names, for this name Iesus, and this title Christ, by the cōmandemēt of the Father, was giuen as proper & pe­culiar [Page]vnto the sonne of God, borne in the worlde: and therefore no name for them. If this name were lawfull for them to take by the woorde of God, as it is not, why shoulde not in like manner, this name be proper to all by the same worde of God? the Monkes and Friers crie out in priuate talke, & in publike preaching against their presumptuous loftinesse of minde, in taking vnto themselues such a name as excelleth all names. Why saye the Monkes, and Friers, doe the Iesuites arrogantly presume to say, that they are onelie of the societie of Iesus, and none o­ther? What (saye these religious men) is their life holier then ours? Doe they fast oftener then we? pray oftener then wée? or leade a more auste [...]re life then wee? séeing that wée knowe they doe not liue more austerly then we, this preroga­tiue to be of the societie of Iesu, aboue vs that are their coequals in liuing, and do­ctrine, they cānot iustly chalenge, as pro­per and peculiar vnto them. But wee woulde gladly knowe why they terme themselues Iesuites? Iesu signifieth a sauiour, and belike they terme thēselues [Page]Iesuites, because they are compartuers with Iesu in saluing. O proud and arro­gant Luciferlike monsters. O wretched creatures. Woulde no other name serue your turne Gentlemen hypocrites, but Iesuita, the name of a Iesuite? if Lucifer himselfe, your father and Progenitour, had taken vpō him the shape of a man, he would neuer haue chosen a more proud & arrogant title. What mooued you (you blinde creatures) to forgette your owne state, and miserable condition? What did you thinke by this title to be magnifi­ed héere in this world? What did cause you to take this name Iesuita vpon you, and refuse to bee called Ignatians Layola? what are you ashamed of your poore Pa­trone Ignatius Layola, who although hée were a crippled souldier, oppreffed with extreame pouerty, and well nigh spent or worne with sores and infirmities of bo­die, who although hee were a wanderer, or (as you terme poore trauellers) a roge yet take no scorne to vse his name, séeing y ^e you allow as fauourers, follow as dis­ciples, & practise as Pupilles, his superstiti­ous & idolatrous inuentiōs? The Monks [Page]and Friers blush not to bée named accor­ding to the name of their Patrones, the Monkes of Dominicke, are called Domini­cans: the Monkes of Benedict, Benedictines: the followers of Iames, Iacobines: of Basil, Basilians: of Augustine, Augustinians: and of Bernard, Bernardines. And why then will not you likewise bée called by the name of the lame souldier Ignatius Layo­la? But surely I thinke hee was so infa­mous, so wicked, and superstitious, that they are afrayde to bee called Ignatians, least their good name be called in questi­on. But yet, albeit he was (as farre as I surmise, by his foolish vowes, rogishe pe­regrinations, & lewd practises in many countries) impudently disposed & naugh­tily bent to peruert good manners, to e­stablish grosse errours in the Synagogue of Sathan, and besides that, busily occu­pied in preferring manye superstitious ceremonies: yet they should not disdaine after his name to be termed Ignatians or Layolans, because they acknowledge and follow him as their Patrone in doing ac­cording to his doctrine, councell, and pre­ceptes. For as they obey his will, so [Page]should they acknowledge his name, and think no skorne, to be called therby as for y ^e name Iesus, it is not for their mowing, neither ought they to desire the honour due to so great a title and name of Iesus: contrary to the godly meaning of all true Christians. Surely (louing companion Trisander) there is such enimity betwéen the Monkes and the Iesuites, (I speake not this of malice, but of experience) that greater is hardly to bee found betwéene the Turke and the Christiā. The Monks neuer report wel of the Iesuites, and the Iesuites neuer speake well of y ^e monks. From cardinal Brhomeo, there came Ie­suites oftentimes to my Lord Bishops house of Vigleuano, now there were two Dominicans in his house, that alwayes denyed to kéepe them company, for this cause only sayd they, for that they were Hypocrites. I wayted at their table, and marked their behautour, they woulde drink but once at one meale, they would vse such Ceremonies about the Cups with crossing, double crossing, and mum­bling I cannot tell what, that it would make a man to woonder. But at the first [Page]time I was so wearie in holding the cup, and not knowing the meaning of their Ceremonies in blessing the cup, y ^t I took it from them, and left them thirsty and dry, vntill I was taught yea with re­bukes of my yll maners, in taking the cup before they had drunk) to stay with y ^e cup vntil they had quenched their thirst, The Iesuites must haue patience if any thing once be denied to them, they must not séeke it twise, they eate but very lit­tle at a meale, they are nourished (say they) by dayly contemplation, and the Angel féedeth them assoone as they dyne or sup, after thanksgiuing to GOD, and our blessed Lady, as the manner of the Papistes is, and after washing of their handes, they goe to the Temple, & there they knéele before a dustie image: there is suche crying and knocking on their brestes, that oftentimes I was afrayde their heartes shoulde haue leapte out of their Bodies. There was suche howling, and suche wee­ping, that teares as bigge as milstones came out of their eyes. Blessed Marie (quoth [Page] pardon me, for I haue offēded thee, not only in thought but woorde, and deede. Oh helpe me holy saint with speede, thy sweete sonne Iesus Christ also, I haue offended alas for wo, but through thy intercession, he will forgiue my transgression, and as I hope will fauour me, and pardon mine iniquities. Then hée knocketh his breast, and boweth his bo­die to kisse the grounde. Blessed Ladie quoth the other, pray so, mee to the Lord Iesu thy louing sonne. For I am a sin­ner, and therefore I say ora pro me pecca­tore, O beata Maria, mater vnigenti: O blessed Marie, the mother of the onely be­gotten, pray for mée a sinner. This, and such like prayers doe the Iesuites vse be­fore the Image of Marie the mother of Christ; they goe from image to image, from stocke to stone, from poste to pillar, and passe by no image but they touch it with their beades, and kisse it with their mouthes. If they find a rotten poste, they thinke immediatly that some saint was bounde to the same to bee scourged. If there appeare vppon the pillers the pic­ture of a mouse, forthwith they woulde imagine it to bee the picture of a Saint, [Page]and therfore they will kneele before those pillers, & adore them, with kissing them, and bowing their bodies before them. Doubtles the Iesuites are very supersti­tious, & from them (as from a founraine) floweth all kinde of Idolatrie and super­stition. Let the Monkes and Friers beare witnesse of this, let Balaams marks beare recorde of my woordes. There is suche brawling & chiding oftentimes amongst the Iesuites, and the Monkes, in Cardi­nall Browmeo his house at Millan, that greater can not lightly bee amongst two scoldes: first there is a question moued, then in the answere to the same there fol­loweth great contention: one dispraysing ech others insufficiencie & defect of know­ledge, sometimes eche one seeketh to excel the other, with vaine bragges of their life and conuersation. The Iesuites, more boldely then wisely, say that their life is Angelicall, and spotted with no spotte of iniquitie. The thing which wée promise (say they) we performe, we vowe chasti­tie, and wée kéepe it: wee neuer haue ac­cesse vnto women, we neuer haue confe­rence with them, wée neuer come in their [Page]sight, and if they come to talke with vs, wée auoyde their companie, by whiche meanes all occasion of carnall copulati­on is cleane cut off, and so is our vowe kept, and neuer violated. These words of the Iesuites are but bragges, the truth insinuateth the contrarie. For at Venice, Ann. do. 1580. a Iesuite was found in bed with a Curtezane, or (as in Englishe I may terme her) with a common strum­pet: what he did in bedde with her I can not tel, for that certaine venecians at my lodging, at the signe of Saint George at realto told me that a Iesuite and a curte­zane were founde in bedde together, they told mée not that they were both takē in doing the déed, but found in bed, as I said. Alac good Iesuite, I thinke hée came to bed to his sister, to giue her some ghost­ly comfort and to heare her confession be­ing in ashaking ague. I dare say the yong gentleman Iesuite meant no hurt in the worlde, vnlesse perhappes wée thinke it hurt, that hée ventered to bée in one bedde with her, without consent of his rectour: or else that hée endeuoured to gette a pre­tie boy by one that was a laye woman, [Page]and a strumpet, and not by some nun be­ing a spirituall sister, but yet a common woman, and common aswel to Monkes, as to Iesuites. At Millan, as it was repor­ted vnto mée by a Bargamesco Gentle­man in the Cathedral Church, there was a lustie stout Iesuite that loued to haunte the stewes verie well. And that the Iesu­ites violate their vnlawfull vowe of cha­stitie, these examples following may te­stifie. At Auspurgh late in y ^e euening there was a Iesuite founde with his compani­ons, that resorted to a suspitious & defa­med house of harlottes. When they came into the house, they told the mistresse of y ^e house that they brought with them holye water to sprinckle about in euery cham­ber, to the expulsion of Diuelles, that through their absence they might doe as they woulde, & that their offence might not bée knowen vnto the Diuell, and therefore not like to bée punished. But these holy fathers, when they had sprinc­led all their coniured water, they were rapt in loue with two queanes of the house, and because they had no money, they gaue their bookes vnto the haudie [Page]drabs, that they should accomplish their venereal luste and carnall concupiscence. In the Franciscan monasterie, I hearde this of trueth by thrée monkes. At Flo­rance a citie in Italie the like thing happe­ned betweene two Iesuites, who coulde not for all their meditations and deuine contemplations, brydle the lustes of their fiesh: these were taken in the stewes late in the euening, and beeing examined what they did there, they answered that they gaue good exhortations, to the ende that they might bée conuerted from curtezanes vnto Nunnes.

Better is a bad excuse then none. Thus they were dismissed, and their intent com­mended, albeit it was suspicious that the Iesuites were nought, séeing that they were found abroad so late, & also with in­famous womē: but let this matter passe. I know not their intēt, whether it was to begette two boyes to make them in time to become soule priestes to say masse for their soules, or els to begette two wen­ches, that in time they might become Nunnes to serue the gréedie néede and fleshly desire of them of their societie. I [Page]tell thée not (good friende Trisander) what is the chiefest cause of the Iesuites Pil­grimage to Madonna di loreto, no other cause then to visite this idole and to serue theyr incontinencie, their youthful toyes, being not as yet set apart. I haue béene in their company, and therfore with lesse feare I may reporte of them, they would neuer remaine in anye other lodging, except in suche, where they might finde Italian mares redie, and easie to be ridē, that was so sober that euery man might handle her as he woulde, they bowed vn­to that saint, and made their offrings vn­to her, they loued a saint with wanton lookes and rouling eyes, better (I am sure) then Madonna di loreto. These Iesui­tes while they are in their perigrination, are Venus lulibie babes, and her sweete darlings, they loue to play with women, they are so lasciuious, luxurious, & viti­ous, that they regarde not howe lewdlye they behaue them selues, so that their ha­bite bée changed, and their persons vn­known. These exāples recited may serue to daunt the pride, and coole the vanting brags of wicked and licētious Iesuites. [Page]They haue eares more vigilant to heare themselues praysed, then a purposed in­tent to deserue prayse. If it bée possible that fyre might bee voyde of heate, then may the Iesuites kéepe themselues chaste from women. For howe much so euer they punishe their fleshe, yet can that ie­lousnesse be neuer expelled. Naturam ex­pellas furca, licet vsque recurret. I will not sayth Christ, Matth. 19. that all men vnderstande this woorde, but hée which can vnderstande it, let him vnderstand it. therefore the Iesuites are worthie of re­buke, that vowe chastitie, and can not kéepe it.

The Iesuites are hypo­crites, and though they carnally knowe fourty women, yet they say they are bles­sed and sanctified virgins. They make their belly their god, their lust, their hea­uen, their pleasure, their blisse: they hunt gréedily for such delights, they bée drawne with a twine thread to the company of a woman, and cannot bée kept from them with a cable rope. For they houer like fe­thers in the wind, and are blowen away like chaffe with euery blaste. They e­stéeme [Page]this life for a woonderful pleasure and a great felicitie, that pretende chasti­tie, and yet satisfie the lustes of the fleshe. Their esteminate mindes are more ad­dicted to fleshly pleasure, then the mindes of such as haue not vowed chastity. They will take no warning to flie frō hypocri­sie, séeing that the world knoweth ther­of. Will they bée counted continent and haue not renounced their filthy delights, that are so déepely drowned in the durtie ditche of dissolutenesse, wherein they neg­lect the sauegard of their soules, in folow­ing of filthy pleasure, the onely enemie to vertue, then the which (as Cicero sayth in his booke De Senectute, nullam Capitalio­rem pestem, quam corporis voluptatē a na­tura datam, &c. There is not a more deadly poyson giuen to man by nature, then sensuall pleasure of body. Their importance and gréedy desires, whereof, were set and bent outragiously, to bring their purpose to passe: and (as hée saith a little after) Cui­que homini siue natura, siue quis deus, nihil tam esse inimicum, quam voluptatem. Nec enim libidine dominante temperantiae locum esse omnino; nec in voluptatis regno virtutē [Page]posse consistere. That is. And seeing that na­ture, or God hath giuen vnto man nothing more excellent then wit, and reason there is nothing more enemie to this diuine gift, then voluptuous pleasure, which sensuall pleasure ruling him, there is vtterly no place left to temperāce, neither may vertue remaine where pleasure raigneth. Whereby it appeareth howe like vnto a beast it transformeth a man, during the which nothing can bée exercised in minde, nothing done by reason or studie: for this drowneth a man in the whirelepoole or gulfe of all vngod­linesse. These Iesuites, for all their graue and fatherly lookes, do fixe their vnhonest loue in fleshely filthinesse, and like the beasts of the fielde lie wallowyng in the myre, they take great delight, by their au­ricular confession, to make a spoyle or pray of maydes and wiues: against these Iesuites, vnlesse they repent, the heauen­ly gates are shut for euer, to exclude them out, for their rewarde is appoynted in darkesome hel, there to remaine amongst the cursed reprobate. I would they shuld repent, & be heartily sorye for their hypo­criticall dealings. The worlde hath spied [Page]their hypocrisie already, & condemneth them of follie, that will not confesse their liues, which are nothing inferiour to the liues of the Scribes & Pharisees, whom Christe often rebuketh, and accuseth of hypocrisie. Their déedes do bewray them to be so holy as they woulde bee counted, their words do condemne them of plaine hypocrisie, when with vnmeasurable prayse, they laude and magnifie them­selues. God conuert their heartes, and make them penitent: I wish them well to do. God lighten their heartes with the bright beames of his holy spirite, that the mistie cloude of ignorance expelled, they may sée the trueth, and confesse it, and ac­cording to the rules of Gods holy worde, direct their liues in all holinesse, to his glory, and the good example of their neigh­bours, & the benefite of their own soules. But friende Diawinckiani, tel mée I pray thée a little more of the Iesuiticall man­ner of couersation and liuing.

As I gather by the histo­rie of Hierosolomitanus y ^e pilgrime, & by the report of the Turkes themselues, with whome I haue had conference at Venice, [Page]especially for suche matters, to knowe what religious votaries they had. It is this in the hystorie of this Pilgrime I haue read, and the Turkes with whome I spake, confirmed the same, that there bée two sortes of religious votaries, the one is of them that dwell in Cloisters, where Magicall Arte is taught, who when they haue béene Nouices two or thrée yéeres, then they are taken to bée members of that Cloister, and are bounde to pray for the Emperours good successe in all his af­faires. The Emperours of the Turkes of­tentimes consulte with these Monkes, touching the state of his Empire, they foretel him what mishap is like to chance in his enterprises, and prognosticate the euent of all his procéedinges. These Monkes neuer departe out of their cloy­sters, except vpon some great and vrgent occasion. This order is not farre vnlike to the Carthusians order, for they are sel­dome séene out of their cloisters. An other order is of them that goe a begging from doore to doore, with great beades aboute their armes and crye Allah Mahomet saue you good dame and good maister, I wil pray [Page]for the soule of your fathers and mothers and of your Grandsiers, allah blesse you little chil­dren. We see (say they) that these children of yours are like to come to high degree of ho­nour. This pilgrime who liued fourtéene yeeres at least as captiue amongest these Turkes, in his historie maketh mention of their begging from house to house: suche flattering I thinke they vse, as these Ie­suites doe, when they are commaunded to goe a begging. These Monkes are like the Iesuites in superffition, and idolatry, These Turkishe Monkes neuer goe a beg­ging, but when their rectour, or their pro­uost commandeth them. So the Iesuites in like manner, when they are comman­ded by their generall or rectour to goe a begging, they must needes obey, yea, ad­mitte hee be a preacher, a confessour, a publique professour of diuinitie, or phi­losophie, or of any other science, if hée bée commaunded to take wallet and bottle, hée must néedes doe it, and may not denie, vnlesse hée will incurre his superiours displeasure. Father Peter, & father Ioseph, Iesuites of the English Seminarie tolde me, that the vicegenerall, being a gentle­man [Page]man borne of most noble parentage, was commanded at his firste enteraunce into the societie of Iesus, to carrie a basket to bée solde, which basket being not woorth vi.d. He was willed notwithstanding to receiue no lesse then a crowne, and as for his dinner hée shoulde begge it at other mens houses abroad in the citie of Rome. This man being cōmaunded to goe & sel his basket, did so, and as hée sought to sell it, being very olde and rotten, all men laughed him to skorne, and when they knewe the price, which hee demaunded for the basket, they derided him the more, and cryed, what meanest thou, thou soole, to séeke v.s. for thy baskette, béeing not worth v..d. This thing was done by his superiours to proue his pacience and to try how wel he would frame himselfe to their orders, as this Nouice, being sometimes a Lorde by byrth, and riche in possessions, suffered himself to bée laugh­ed of all sortes of people, and as hée went about the marked places of Rome, and walked in euery street, hée met by chance with one, that in time past had béene his seruaut: this Nouice Iesuite knew him [Page]not, but this man that had béene his ser­naunt in time past, knewe the saide No­uice Iesuite verye well, and saining as though hée had not knowen him, he came vnto him, & asked him the price of his bas­ket. This Nouice answered v.s. then hée that had béene his seruaunt, gaue him v.s according to his owne demaunde. And when this Nouice Iesuite had added moreouer, that hée was commaunded to séeke his dinner abroad, then this man inuited him to dinner. The duke of Mil­lans sonne and heire, was inchaunted by these Iesuites to forsake his father, his mother, and all the fréendes that hée had, yea, & to renounce his inheritaunce that shoulde haue befallen into his handes af­ter the decease of his father. This noble youth, tobecome a Iesuite, regarded no worldly wealth, nor princely promotion. But this young Gentleman was abused very much, as you may heare as follow eth. They caused him, not only to practise the arte of begging, but also to sast, and to whippe himselfe so often, hauing ney­ther respect to his tender and féeble state of bodie, by reason of his delicate educati­on [Page]on and bringing vp: neither yet to his vnaccustomed manner, in so chastising him beyonde al reason and measure, that he fell into a pitifull consumption, in so much that being worne and consumed to the bare bones, he died. The parentes in sundrye Cities of Italie crie out against these new sect of Iesuites, for they seduce their children to their sect, and with their flattering woordes, fatre spéeches, and large promises of great giftes at Christs handes, in the heauenly citie Hierusalem, they deceiue and corrupt the towardely dispositions of many a youth, to vertue and Christian religion, and abuse them vnto all vngodlynesse and heresies. In Rome, Anno domi. 1579. There was a young Gentleman of great reputation amongst the Romanes, this man beeyng heire to his father deceased, was bee­witched with such an immoderate desir to be a Iesuite, that neither his mother nor any freinde that hee had, coulde per­swade him to the contrary.

At last he was admitted into the societie of Iesuites, and being amongest the Ie­suites, his mother made earnest supplica­tion [Page]vnto the Pope, that her sonne being commaunded by his holinesse letters, di­rected vnto the generall, might bée be put out of their societie, and might returne vnto her, and peaceably inioy that which his father had bequeathed him in his last will and Testament. Now as shée de­maunded of the Pope, to haue her sonne released, & set frée from the societie of Ie­su, so it came to passe. But yet the Ie­suites hauing accesse vnto the youngmā, so incensed his minde with the loue of their profession, y ^e being kept for a space in a close chamberr vnder a false and for­ged pretence of looking for his shyrt to bée made warme before the fire, hée conueied himselfe out of the chamber, and came directly to the Iesuites Colledge. Of ma­ny such coulde I make rehear all, but the time doth not permit, nor my leasure doth suffer me to say more hereof, then is alreadie saide.

It was told mée, that the Iesuites take greate paynes to informe youth in learning & vertue, what say you doe they so or not?

They do informe the [Page]youth with such austeritie, and in suche ord [...]r, y ^t they are become odious too most Studentes, as may plainly appeare by this example following. In the Romane Colledge, Anno Domini, 1580. there was a Iesuite slaine by a Student of the Col­ledge, and because belike the Ie­suite had offended the Student too too much, the Superiours of that Colledge suffered the Student to depart without any manner accusation. The Iesuites in that Colledge oftentimes were hurte by the Students for their proud and hawty mynde, in seeking to ouerrule them. The like happened in many other Colledges of Italy, as it was told mée trauelling the Countrey, but for this thing that was done at Rome, I know it my selfe to bée true, béeing at that present at Rome, & a scholler in the English Seminary, For a­bout this time, German a priest, y ^e Popes Scholler appoynted for the peruersion of Germany, threw himselfe headlong frō an high window, and so brake his neck. About this time one of our owne Stu­dents would haue drowned himselfe in a Well, had not God deliuered him from [Page]that daunger, by some of the Stu­dentes.

You went about once lo­ning brother to compare the conuersatiō and doings of the Iesuits, with y ^e Monks of the Turks: I pray you procéed in this matter, as you first began.

I wil, then giue eare. Trisander. I wil be attentiue to heare you doe so: then goe forwards in your talke.

The Turkish Monks must haue their garments very short, of diuers colours, with many patches, and in all respects they must goe like Fooles, that they may bée a laughing stocke vnto the Beholders. So after this maner goe the Iesuites a begging, for they will fol­lowe Christ and his Apostles (say they) their Iesuiticall wéede is very curtall, it reacheth no farther then the knée, it hath diuers colours, and many patches, they goe from doore to doore, and crie, Date noi [...]lcuna elemozina peramoredi Christo, del quale discipulisiāno: Geue vs some almes for Christes sake, whose Disciples we be. The Turkish Monkes haue great heades, vp­on [Page]on the which they pray, they haue the Picture of Mahomet, about their neckes, they praye in the stréetes, they goe a Pil­grimage to their pretensed God Maho­met, they take no money with them, but a staffe to defende them from the sharpe téeth of Dogges: thus doth the Iesuites, let them deny it, and they shalbe prooued Liars. They haue greate beades about their neckes, about their armes, and in their handes, I brought a Iesuite a little before night, from the English Semina­ry vnto the Romane Colledge, of whom I demaunded vpon the way, why hée had such great beads, that euery bead should bee almost as bigge as my fist: hee answe­red, that in the darke night he had néede y ^e his beads should be so big, for the better féeling of euery beade in saying ouer his beades. The Iesuites haue the picture of S. Ignatius, their Patrone, or the picture of our blessed Ladie Marie, in the stréetes, they pray very often, and to Pilgrimage they goe very often without any money giuen by their Superiours vnlesse they haue somwhat of their own, as most cō ­monly they haue, they vse a staffe, yea in [Page]the Citie of Rome are some nouices not twentie yéeres of age, and the cause is, for that they maye bée counted as the Apo­stles of Christ. The turkish Monks shor­ten their liues with too muche austeritie of life, so doe the Iesuites discipline and whippe themselues at the Euening of e­uery festiuall day, that the blood trickleth downe from their bodies, as streames of water, that it is lamentable to make re­port thereof. They scourge themselues voluntarily so extréemely, that oftētimes many of them before the due course of na­ture yéeld vp their Ghost. They fast so of­ten, and giue themselues to such contem­plations, that sometimes seme of them are rauished of their wits. I speake this with griefe of minde. They followe the Turkish Monkes in life and conuersati­on, and so they may bee rightly Mahome­taines, of the society of Mahomet. The Turkish Monkes praise themselues a­boue measure, so do the Iesuites bragge, boast, and extoll their names aboue the Cloudes. The Iesuites of the Englishe Seminarie would alwaies bée praising men of their society, and discommending [Page]others, especially Dominicans. and Franciscans, who are no better then sworne eni­mies: for the one cannot speake well o [...] the other. If any amongest the Iesuites hath eyther disputed egregiously, or declaymed Rhetorically, or done any thing learnedly, they publishe his name with great bragges and praises, of his excellē [...] and ingenious capacitie, and rare giftes of knowledge. If any afflict themselues so seuerely, that they fall into sicknesses, and daunger of death, then they commēd his dooinges euery where, and déeme him (for y ^t hee spared not to scourge his owne body) a woorthy Saint, and a blessed dis­ciple of Christ. The Turkish Monkes, more boldly then prudently, say they are saued, by reason that they leade a Monasticall life: so doe the Iesuites bragge that they are sure of life euerlasting, because they are secluded from the companie of them that dwell in the worlde, for they wil not confesse that they liue in the worlde, and therefore must their Colledges be counted heauen, or called by som [...] other name, or else (I will say as I hau [...] said) they liue in the world. Father Benedictus [Page]reader in positiue diuinity, intrea­ting vpon Predestination, said that hée knewe that he was sure of life eternall in the kingdom of God, because God cal­led him, as hée said into the societie of Ie­su: and if I had not béen made a Iesuite I know (saith he) I had béen a reprobate. This mans knowledge was greater thē his wisedome, and his woords of greater force then his holinesse. These Hypocriti­call Iesuites were taught (as I thinke) by the Turkish Monks, for in their ido­latrous practises, and superstitious cere­monies, they differ little or nothing. Frō such Turkish Monkes, and Papisticall Iesuites good Lord deliuer vs. These Ie­suites in woordes professe humilitie, but in mind and déede they practise pride, they séeke greate obeysance to bée done vnto thē, they looke for capping and knéeling, and they would bée woorshipped. If anye of the students of any Seminary, where the Iesuites beare sway, forget to put off his hat in the stréete as hée passeth by the Iesuites, and then will the Iesuites re­member to get these students a penance. They are sworne to kéepe no money, yet [Page]they haue money some of them plentie These Iesuites are full of scoffes and mockes, as I my selfe haue prooued, the [...] haue vowed chastitie, but I doe not lik [...] the thinges that were practised in th [...] dark, betwéene some of the Iesuites an [...] the English Seminarie, and some of th [...] fairest complexion of the Englishe Students, whose names I remember, bu [...] for modestie sake I conceale them. Thes [...] Iesuites make great shewe of integriti [...] of life, and mortification of the fleshe, bu [...] their déedes bewray them, and their va [...] nities are knowne to procéed frō an hipocritical habite. They more regarde th [...] prayses of men, then the kingdome [...] heauen, and the glory of the highest.

I was informed by man Pilgrimes, that the Iesuites, whereso [...] uer they come, preache vpon bulke [...] stooles, and such like thinges: they stan [...] pratling vnto the auditorie of the worth [...] nesse and excellencie of their professio [...] & the Euangelicall life of the Iesuites. [...] haue hearde a Iesuite preacher, my self [...] at Piacentia, that was so impudent, as [...] say that the Iesuites were more acce [...] table [Page]to God, then the Angels of hea­uen.

Thou hast béene tru­ly informed, for they preach in deede vpon bulkes, stooles, chaires, or any other such thing, yea, they preach in market places, in open stréetes, and bie corners, Wée are the disciples of Christe (say they) wee haue his Angels, to guide vs, wée haue the holy Ghost to mooue vs to preach vn­to publicanes and sinners, to curtezans and ruffians.

A faire péece of worke I promise you, they boast that they are sent from Christ, to instruct publicans sinners, and curtezans: I woulde they learned first to liue godly themselues be­ing publicans, sinners, and harlots, bed­fellowes, and play mates. I woulde to God they framed their liues according to the will of God. They deserue more glory at Christ his handes, say these Ie­suiticall helhoundes then the Angels do: they merits the kingdome of heauen of their owne workes. What shall I speake of their erronious doctrine, séeing many, both learned and veriuous, haue [Page]written at large thereof. And therfore I passe it ouer, the rather because their pernicious doctrine is well knowne, and published to the world in print. But bro­ther Diawinck. can you tell whether they say they haue any cōference wish Christ.

Tush man, what speake you of conference, seeing that our bles­sed Ladie as you knowe bringeth them, as they are sléeping, both bed and all vn­to heauen, and in their dreames they talke as familiarly with Christe as Ro­binhood, and William of Clowdesly. All their talke with Christ is in dreames & visions, & I think euer will be. There talked once with mée a Iesuite, trauel­ling to Madonna di loreto, who tolde mée, that Christe is a vision appeared vnto him, and saide, that hée shoulde prooue a notable Philosopher, well estéemed of all men, and therfore said this Iesuite, this Aristoles booke which you sée, I carty al­waies with mée. Then I asked him, why rather hée brought not with him the book of the new Testament▪ Then answered this Iesuite, Aristotles booke is more pro­founde and learned then the booke of the [Page]newe Testament. Thus wée sée, that the booke of an Heathen philosopher, is more estéemed amōgst these Iesuites, then the booke of the newe Testament, contai­ning nothing els in it, but the heauenly veritie. Had not the Rector of the Ger­man Colledge at Rome, séene in a vision our blessed lady come to him, telling him he should be a Iesuite, he had neuer (as he thinketh) béen a Iesuite, nor rector of that Colledge. He that faineth best, and excel­leth in hypocrisie, shalbe in great repu­tation amongst this new order of the Ie­suites. Héere in this place I surcease to speake of the Iesuites any more. Nowe wil I speake a word or two touching the Theatines. The Theatines are a kind of re­ligious men, who differ nothing in habite frō y ^e Iesuites: their shurt bāds are scarce to bée séene, so are the Iesuites: their gownes are somtimes of one colour, and sometimes of another. These Theatines haue moe reuenewes, yea and they fare better thē many an honest mā doth: they heare cōfessiō, & ther by so delude y ^e people insomuch y ^t they giue thē both money, & o­ther things necessary. this foolish genera­tiō [Page]goeth neuer a begging, but al things necessary for prouisiō are broght to their houses, I haue béen at their monasteries & haue had such good chéere, y ^e better light­ly is not to be gottē. They haue wine plē ­tie, & al other things in great abundance. Now because this generatiō is obscure & vnknowē to the world, therfore to make thē famous, is not mine intēt, but this I say, that these Iesuites, & these Theatines are in great emulatiō: the one speaketh e­uil of the other, the one enuieth the other. There is no difference almost betwéene the Iesuites, & the Theatines. I woulde speak more abundātly of this order of the Theatines, if our English men were any whit molested by the name & sect therof. God be thanked, England knoweth not what they be, & by me surely at this time England shall not know what they are. The remēbrāce of the presēt state of this our miserable time, wherin so many sects & so many vowed orders of vaine profes­s [...]ds abound, doth driue a maruellous sor­row & griefe into me, who haue séene thē. I bewaile & lamēt their cases. For cōside­ring the pitifull plight of these our wret­ched [Page]daies, what true Christian is there, but wil powre out a fountaine of teares, to bewaile the calamitie therof. The ru­ine of our aduersaries is exceeded so farre that it withdraweth mās expectation to looke for amendement, vnles God of his great mercie doe worke supernaturally the restitution. Againe none might nowe double his exclamation, in these dayes as Seneca reporteth, which is: good life, lawe, good order, godlines, & faith are now decaied. Therefore, calling to my remembrance this our carefull case, I mused with my selfe what might bée the cause there­of, and sodenly came to my remembrance the comfortable promises of God the fa­ther, made to the kéepers of his lawes and commaundementes: and likewise I considered his intollerable threatninges to the breakers of the same. Then com­paring the wretchednesse of our liues to the sinceritie of his holy preceptes, I finde a marueilous difference. Good life was neuer in such contempt, malice at no time bare such rule, the godly neuer more dispised, and finally, God neuer more dis­honoured, nor the Catholike faith at any [Page]time had in so litle regarde, especially of such as of arrogancie chalenge to them­selues the name of true Christians, who in very déede are vtterly voide of all chri­stianitie. To these the wordes of Christ may be well applied, where he sayth in the 9. Chap. 15. If I had not come vnto them, they shoulde haue had no sinne in them, but now their sinne doth remaine. Which words are verily verified in those false Christians, which did erre not onely in faith, but also in all other pointes of re­ligion, and yet obstinatly séeme to defende their religion. They will not yeelde to scripture, they wil not consent to reason, they will not acknowledge the trueth. It is by nature giuen to men, in some things to erre, but to persist therein is a­gainst nature. For (saith Tullie Lib. 1.) Wée bée al drawen and led to aspire vn­to knowledge, wherein to passe other we thinke it a goodly matter: but to slide, to erre, to bée ignorant, to bée deceiued, wée count it euill and dishonest. Therefore saith hée, one thing is to be auoided there­in, which is, that we take not things that we know not, as though we knew them, [Page]and rashly assent to them. Wherefore, deliberation and aduertisment is to bée required in such causes. Nowe then it is the office and duetie of man, to apply his will to the grace of God, by whom truth is reueiled in time, wherevnto hée ought to consent: The serpent Hydra, w ^t whom Hercules fought, had not so many heades, as each of these serpents had deuised opi­nions: nor yet Ixion begate so many Cen­taurs, as these monsters imagined here­sies: insomuch that vpon one point, which is the chiefest cōfort left here vpon earth, there are Myriades opinionum, innume­rable opinions, and one so contrary to a­nother, y ^t they agrée like germaines lips. The monstruossitie of whiche opinions are such, that to remember them, it yéel­deth a marueylous terrour to the heart of many a good christian. These adulterate Iesuites thinke it not sufficient, to effe­minate the mindes of the simple w ^t their false doctrine, and to defile the same with the venim of their viperous tongues, but also therewith haue so slaine the consciē ­ses of many, that like mē desperat of their owne saluation, they make haste to their [Page]owne destruction, who being puft by with presumption, séeke to clime vp to the cha­riote of the sunne. But as Phaeton was serued, for going about to aspire to his fathers secretes, and with a flashe of ligh­tening was set all on fire: so these presūp­tuous and ignorant people, shall be pla­gued with the like, vnlesse they repent, as a due rewarde of presumption. This it is to followe the hissinges of the vipers broode, who neuer leaue their haunte, till they haue infected whole countreys.

For this cause (welbeloued readers) this present treatise is published, to sette before mens eyes, the abominable liues, and odious practises of these papistes, who in their owne conceiptes presume, that they haue the vn­douted truth: whō (if you marke intus & in­cute) you shall wel vnderstand to be quite cō ­trary. And thus much touching the Iesuites: more of them (God willing) shalbe saide in mine answere to the bookes written against me, most maliciously, and slaunderously, by a Iesuite as I gesse. Belike he was ashamed to write his name least that his ill quallities shoulde be called in question.

I Woulde desyre thée, if thy ley­sure were such, louinge compa­nion, as to tell mée more at large the cor­rupt liues of the hipocriticall Ie­suites, who haue none other care al their life time, but to féede and pamper their panches with delicious wines, and deli­cate dishes to séeke their ease, and vse all kind allurementes and entisementes to whoredome, to kéepe themselues in all pleasures and idlenesse, & to giue them [Page]selues into all monstruous infamies: the which they may verie well doe, and that fréelye. For they haue many priui­ledges, wherin they are well armed, and warranted to be exempted from all pu­nishment. But for asmuch as your talke extendeth no farther touchinge Iesuites, let me heare howe the Popishe Priestes do liue?

As their life was two hundreth yeares agoe, suche is their life now.

How they liued then, and long time sithens, I finde in histories. A Curate of Clauenie in the Duchie of Guyen, as Stephanus reporteth in his Apologie vppon Herodot. fol. 72. did séeke to Saibborne the daughter of an honeste man of the same towne to hys leude lust and pleasure, whome he haunted in all places where she wente: not­withstandinge, she still flatlye and con­stantlye denyed hym, whiche bredde the greater fire to hys beastlye desire. And therefore on a daye, as the mayde was goinge to her fathers farme (somewhat out of the towne) this minion masked in blewe sarcenet, set all ouer wyth little startes of gold, hauing a fine laune ouer [Page]his face, and his armes and legges bare, but couered likewise with laune. In this attire he appeared vnto her on the way, and with counterfait voyce, shewed her that he was the Virgin Marie, declaring vnto her that sondrye afflictions shoulde fall vpon the towne, for the Luterane heresie that was entered amongst them, (againste the whiche this Prieste was a great Preacher) with sondry other pur­poses, touchinge the same: and further willed her to shew it to the towne, that they mighte celebrate her feast wyth fa­stinge and prayer, tellinge her withall, how she had refused the frendshippe and loue of a holye person, who in the same place (not longe before) made sute vnto her, but she denied hym: and therefore, if hée soughte any thinge at her handes hereafter, she was admonished that shée shoulde obey hym, for in so doinge there woulde greate happines fall vnto her by it: finallye shée was charged that shée should not discouer this last parte to any Creatures: the simple wenche beléeued all for trueth, and deliuered it as a Pro­phesie, and forewarneth them of that shoulde happen to Clanuenie, for the which cause (at the first) the inhabitants [Page]feared muche: and in the meane tyme thys poore soule yelded to hys villanie, whiche was shortly after spied, the pra­ctise discouered, and hée executed as well woorthie. In a village néere vnto Coi­gnake, called Shermes; the Parson there abused his owne sister so long, that in the ende hée gate her with childe: which the Curate so couered, as shée (being holden verie holie throughe her déepe Ipocrifie) was taken to bée as chaste a Virgin as might be: and therefore when this fault was spied, he was not a shamed to pub­lish, that it procéeded of the holie Ghost, and that shée was a seconde Virgin Ma­rie. The brute whereof comming to the hearinge of Charles, the Earle of Ango­leme, he sent of purpose to se how it was for that hée suspected some abuse in it. In whose presence the supposed Virgin (of the age of thirtéene yeares) being solem­ly charged by her brother, vpon the dam­nation of her soule, to deliuer them the truth (repeating the second time the same miracle) she aunsweared, I take this ho­lie Sacrament to my damnation, before you all here present, that neuer any man did carnally know mée, or in that sorte of sinne touche mée, no more then that my [Page]brother haue done: they hearing so vehe­ment a vowe retourned, and confirmed the shamelesse report that was broached afore. But the Earle being wise, and no­ting the order of her othe néerer then they did, founde the fire by the smoke, and therefore sente, and commaundinge that they shoulde bee seuerallye committed, and they both examined, wherebye the truth was confessed, and they both bur­ned into ashes, and dedicated vnto Vul­cane. An example of a horrible incest, ioy­ned with blasphemie, whiche witnesseth the continente and chaste liues of those that were vowed from Matrimonie: ap­prouing the godly furie of the Cardinal of Lorane, who hearing that a Bishop was secreatly married, said, I maruaile how these Lutherans haue geuen themselues ouer to all the deuils, to marrie, seeinge they haue libertie otherwise, after their liking to satisfie their lusts, at their own pleasure. This did hée speake generallye to those that liued then of their holy mo­ther the Church. For, what was it that those wretches woulde not attempte, to fullfill (after their insatiate gluttonye) their beastly and rompwood lechery, ha­uing this Priuiledge, Si non caste, ta­men [Page]caute. A Iesuite Priest in Vienna in Austria, made it no conscience to a­buse a marchantes wise (whome hée had vnder confession) before all the Saintes of either kinde, not simply in the church, but behind the Aultar, and on good Fry­day. This fellow beinge taken wyth the manner, although the faulte deserued as vile death as mighte bée deuised) yet hée was onely enioyned to do pennance, and to forbeare sayinge of Masse thrée mo­nethes. Their Legate (comminge from Rome) thinking this too sharpe a punish­mente for so small a faulte, presently ab­solued him, whose ordinary Masses were afterward found of as good sauour, taste, and digestion, to those that willingly de­uoured them) as if they had béene sayd of the most maidenliest Priest in the world. So that it one woulde searche the euilles of all sortes, committed by these raue­ning rabble that feede on the Church, hee should finde them innumerable. But, as touching their punishmentes, it was sel­dome, or for the most part so light, that it seemed (in déede) but a mockerie: where as, on the other side, if any were but su­spected to couet the true way to their sal­uation, fire and sworde was layde vpon [Page]them, wyth all the rigour and violence that might be. Many such histories could I recite, but because they are written in diuers bookes at large, I purpose to make no more wordes thereof, but will referre the Readers to Stephanus, Pla­tina, and other Historiographers, who haue written aboundauntlye thereof. Now I am desirous to heare the enor­mities and errours of these late Priestes, whose life and conuersation is altogether vnknowne to all this English lande.

As I haue begone to reueale the abuses of the Clergie, so will I procéede to speake therof in al degrées. Nowe there remayneth that I shoulde displaye the wickednesse of the Masse Priestes, I will speake no more, then that whiche myne eyes haue séene. At Gaunt in Flaunders, there was a priest that tolde mée Anno domnini. 1578. that if amonge the Turkes he could find better liuing, he would not be afrayd to offer sacrifice to Mahomet. For (sayd he) it is not the outwarde action that proue­keth the indignation & displeasure of the most highest, but it is the inwarde cogi­tation, being rebellious and disobediente to Gods holy will and ordinaunces, that [Page]causeth the reprobation of man. I am not constrained (sayd this wretched cay­tife) to obserue the commaundementes of God in word and dede, but in thought onely. How voyde of reason, vnderstan­ding, and Christianitie these his wordes were, all men maye sée. Amongest the Turkes hée woulde liue as a Turke, a­mongest the Papistes, (the Turkes co­sen germanes,) he woulde liue as a Pa­piste, and amongest the Christians hée woulde fayne hymselfe a Christian. At Ausburgh in high Almaine, there was a Prieste at Masse, Anno domini 1578. that had hys Lemman to supplye the roome of the Clarke that was absente, now sir shee being vnfitte for that place, when she should haue said Suscipiat do­minus hoc sacrificium, &c. shée sayde, Et cum spiritu tuo. What hore (quoth hée) canst thou not say, Suscipiat domi­nus hoc sacrificium &c. Master Par­son (quoth shee) you are to blame to vse suche termes by me, in presence of thys people. What Drabbe (quoth he) avoid in haste, or els I will strike thée with my Chalice. Hereat his Lemman ran away, cryinge, the deuell take thée villanous Priest, thou hast abused me too too much.

I woulde, if I had bene at the sight hereof, haue laughed as mer­rily as euer I did in my life. But I pray you tell me, did hee make little God Al­mighty, and eate him also then.

Yea that hee did, but what maner of Sacrifice hee offred then in his rage vnto God, surelye I cannot tell, or with what charitie he then recey­ued his maker, let the reader of this s [...]ry iudge by the rayling disorder of hys vehe­mente wordes. At Curtrike in Flaun­ders, Anno domini 1578. there was a Priest who willed a little boy that was his Clarke, to fill hys Chalice vp to the brimme: this drincke is good (quoth he) and tasteth well in my mouth, therefore good child fill a little more.

I thincke thys Prieste was glad to saye Masse, to quenche hys thirste and to please hys pallate. At a vil­lage called Westendorfe in highe Al­maine, there was a Priest, by report of the Parishioners, that as he was saying Masse, there came newes vnto him by a little lad, that a certaine yong man was a bedde with his Lemman. Assone as he heard these wordes, he left the residue of his Masse vnsayde, and came presentlye [Page]wyth hys Clarke and two more, and found his Lemman and the young man together in a bedde: to whome he sayde, what in the deuils name doe you here? Could you not haue told me of this your pastime, that I mought haue taken part with you? Now therfore I enioyne you this pennance, that you come in your shirte and smocke to heare the rest of my Masse. At Alberstat in Saronye there was a Cannon Priest that wanted mo­ney, and could not tell what to doe to get some wherfore he thought it good to con­ [...]e vp a deuell, with whome hee com­pounded, that if he woulde procure him two thousand Dollors, he would assure the deuell of a Baptised bodie. To the whiche promise the deuill assented, and procured the mony. The day being ap­pointed, when the body baptised should bee geuen to the deuill, thys Cannon Priest had prouided before hande, that a goose shoulde bee baptised in the Fonte, where Christians were wonte to be ba­ptised, and thys goose was geuen to the deuill. When the wicked spirite had per­ceiued this pollicie, he said, thou hast be­guiled me now, but I will deceiue thée an other time.

Is it not straunge that men are deluded by these craftie Priests seeinge the deuell himselfe is beguiled by their craft and pollicie.

It is nothing strange. In Italie there happened the like thing, for in the Neapolitane kingdome there were certaine (as farre as I do remem­ber) Priestes, that borrowed a greate somme of money of the deuill, and pro­mised to repay the debt by such a daye, if not, that he should vse them at hys plea­sure. When the day came, these Romish Italian Priestes were merrily banque­ting, not being mindfull of their promise touching the discharging of the debt: the deuill came amongest them, and de­maunded his mony: now, when it was tolde him that they had it not readie, hee stew them euerie one to the nomber, of fiue and twentie Priestes, and lay men. This thing was reported vnto me to be true at Sinegallie, whether it be true or false I cannot tell, but I suppose it to bée rather true then otherwise, because ma­nye auouched the same to bee true, and they were all Italians. At Ausburghe there was a Prieste that had dronken more then sufficient who when hee was [Page]at Masse, he cryed, ho la hostes, geue me some more béere for I am a thirst. Thys Priest notwithstandinge was aboute to make hys Sauiour, in transubstantia­ting the bread and wine by a few wordes vttered by him, into the very bodie and bloud of Christe. This Prieste was not farre vnlike vnto him that was at Masse, who when he was at his memento, his boy came vnto hym, and tolde hym that his neighbours swine were entered into his garden: he had no sooner hearde these wordes, but in a surie he brake forth in­to this speech, forgetting his memento, and not remembringe the place wherein he was, what in the deuils name do the swine there: goe thither (saide hée to hys boy) and kill them euery one.

No doubt this man wanted patience and charitie, and receyued the Sacramente of the Aultar vnwor­thely, not onely for other causes, but also for these his furious and vnquiet Pas­sions, hee receiued the Sacramente as an ill disposed Parson, no doubt.

In a Cittie called Guntzburgh, there was a Prieste so dron [...]ke, that he could not stande to saye M [...]s [...]e, and when hee had filled hys chla­lice [Page]with wine, he cryed with a loud voice praysinge the wine: the Clarke whispe­red in hys eare that hee had receyued the bloud of Christ, God send me more such bloud (quoth hee) and I pray thee good Clarke fill the Chalice agayne. Master Parson (quoth the Clarke) I praye you dispatch your Masse, for surely good beare hath made your heade so lighte, that you know not what you do. I tel thee knaue (quoth he) fill the Chalice, or els I will make thy pate ake. Thys Masse was dronkenly begonne and dronkenlye en­ded.

Surely this Priest was [...] fitte man for such a prophane and pol­uted Sacrament. To serue the deuill a [...]ronken man is moste meete, for if hee [...]hall transforme hymselfe into the like­ [...]es of a child and so appeare in the hoast of bread, he may bid him conuey a potle of wine at a neede, out of the Popes sa­red Chaplaines wineseller,.

Thou sayest well and [...]uelye: but marke, I wyll tell thee a [...]errie and a true storie of a Prieste of Palam, where a Queene a Virgin the Emperours daughter albeit a Papiste, [...]t surely affable, amiable, and a succou­rer [Page]and fauourer of straungers) hath her abode. Thys Prieste Anno domini 1580. trauailed to Italie, & as hee came to Venice, there was broughte hym such wine as pleased him so well, that hee as­ked what drincke it was: hys hoasts be­ing a merry man, and knowing he was a Germaine, tolde hym that it was the teares that came downe from the eyes of Christe, in such aboundance, they hys teares at three seuerall times, when hee wept filled a whole hogshed. Oh (quoth the Priest) how is this credible, that hée being a man, could shed so many teares, and that his teares shoulde be conuerted to so sweete a drincke as I taste of, then aunswered hys hoaste, in that hee was a man alone he did not this miracle, but in that he was both man and God, thys came to passe by that meanes, this thing I say, that his teares filled a whole hog [...] shead, and became notable good wyne. Then sayd the Priest, but how got you [...] his teares conuerted into this pleasaunt drincke, whereof (I thanke you) I haue had a taste? then sayde hys hoaste, that Christ sent it by his Angell to all Italye, and the more wee drincke thereof the more wee haue. Oh good God (quoth [Page]thys Masse Prieste) wherein haue we [...] Germaines offended Christ, that he sent nothing of teares to vs also to make our hartes merrie therewith?

Surely this Priest was a very wittie man, I thinke that if a man had tolde hym that the Citizens of Venice brought their marchandise from heauen, hee woulde haue belieued them. Indede I must say that it was a strange thinge, for thys Almaine Prieste, to get such pleasant wine as he did then at Ve­nice and belike he neuer tasted the lyke drincke before. At Eraneble in France, there came a fellow to the Bishop, min­dinge to take holye orders: the Bishop willed hym to reade thys place of Scrip­ture, Faciemus hic tria tabernacula, v­num tibi &c. this word Tabernacula, he could not wel pronounce, but thus he read that place, Faciemus tria traber­ [...]ula. The Bishop beinge angry, sayde, three turdes: vnum tibi (quoth he, my Lorde that soughte to haue beene made Prieste) alterum for Mary your sweete [...]arte, and tertium for Margaret your [...]aughter. With these woordes the Bi­shoppe was so moued, that he called the Reader knaue. Then sayd the Reader, [Page]haue you made mee Deacon nowe my Lord: whether this storie be true or no, I cannot tell: for it was tolde me of cer­taine Frenchmen beinge merrilye dispo­sed, and if it be a fable, let it passe as a fa­ble. But I will now speake of one that came to the Bishop of Graisoble. Anno domini 1579. to seeke for Priesthoode, and when he came to be examined of the Bishops Chaplaine, touchinge doctrine, he put his hand in his pocket, and said to his examiner, Ecce hic: and gaue hym a handfull of money. Then the Bishops Chaplaine came to his Lordship, & tolde him that hée had not a better Scholler to be examined in thre yeares before. Then the Bishop sente this man to a singinge Cannon of the Qutere, to bee prooued whether he could singe Masse or no, and when he came to be examined, he gaue also a handfull of money to this singinge Cannon: and as soone as he receiued the money, he tolde the people that he knew by a few interrogations propounded vn­to the said fellow, that it was in vaine to examine him farther in notes of singing. Thus by meanes of his money, he was counted both learned, and also a good Qutereman, whereas hee was neyther [Page]of both. This storie I know to bee true for the same thinge hath beene reported vnto me by diuers, aswell of the clergie, as of the laitie. Many such stories coulde I recite, but few may content the mind of the Reader. And at Moleina, a little towne in the Dolphin of Fraunce, there was a Priest that kept his sister, in stede of a concubine, as it appeared at last, in that she was wyth childe, and confessed her brother to bee the father thereof. Whereupon it was enioyned hym by way of pennance, to goe and visite Ma­donna di Loreto.

Surelye an easie pen­nance for suche an horrible crime, han­ging had bene too too good for such an exe­crable facte: but one Popish Priest will beare with an other.

Thou hast said truth. But marke, I will tell thée of a storie woorthie the hearings, wherein is to bee noted the dissimulation of a shauelinge Priest. In citie called Langue in Picar­die, there was a holye (as they termed him) Priest, that tooke his pilgrimage to S. Iames in Spaine: who when he re­tourned home, he boasted of so many re­uelations and visions, that he would not [Page]otherwyse haue the people perswaded, but that S. Iames brought hym to hea­uen, and there shewed hym all the glo­rious buildinges that are to bee séene. The walles (sayd hee) of that Princely Pallace of God, were altogether of cri­stall, Saphire, Diamonds, Carbuncles, and suche other precious stones. The pauementes, both within and without that heauenly and celestial court of God, were of gold, siluer, and such other costly mettall. The couering therof was bright shininge golde, the like whereof I neuer sawe before. Then S. Iames broughte mee to dinner, amongest the Apostles, where I refreshed my self very princely: at the laste I shooke handes wyth all the Apostles, and so tooke my farewell of them. Then S. Iames gaue mee hys pi­cture in siluer, and promised, that who­soeuer woulde offer to the same, during the tyme that I am at Masse, he woulde cary his soule at his departure to heauen The people beleued euery word that he spake, and offered much mony to the pi­cture, which the Priest receiued, and ap­plied it to hys owne vse. This Priest made simple women beleue, that if the would not condiscend to hys luxurious [Page]and fleshlye request, S. Iames woulde take reuengemente vpon them: so that by this his pilgrimage, he gate money a­boundantly, and allured many wemen, to Venus follye. Thys is the fruite of Priestes pilgrimages, I woulde to God they considered the end of this their counterfaite holinesse. There was another Priest that trauailed with me on Pilgri­mage in Fraunce to S. Sebastian, thys mans life-was dissolute, his wordes pro­phane, and his manners leude, when a­nye Massemonger had committed some hainous offence, hee determined wyth the consultation of his ghostly father, and other of hys annoynted companie, to make a vowe to visite one or other holy place, for expiation of his sinnes: and in his whole pilgrimage he meditated vpon nothinge els, then vpon liberall wemen of their bodies. Oh God, what doe these hipocrites meane, to vaunte of holines, and meddle so muche with the worlde: doe they not passe to dissemble thus wyth men, as they do, for temporall gaine, and to be disherited of life euerlasting by this their folly? Let not the Papists imagine that I haue reported thys of malice, or that I vntruely told the liues of their la­sciuious [Page]clergie: or pray for them, I wish their conuersion in the Lord. Their ma­licious and vntrue reportes of mee haue troubled my patience neuer a whit: speake what you will, raile and reuile, skoffe and taunte me at your pleasure, counte mee what you will, a foole, an asse, vnlearned, and whatsoeuer besides, I am not offended, I am not mooued with these your vncharitable termes: God conuerte your mind to vnderstand his holy word, and vnfainedly to obserue it, duringe life: and God make vs all fit instrumentes for hys blessed kingdome, and graunt that we may glorifie hym in our doinges, edifie his churche and con­gregation, and profite our owne soules, and so enioy the crowne of glorye in the kingdome of the most highest. I will re­cite thrée or foure more incontinente Priestes, and so make an ende of thys matter. Lingano in Italie, a Priest kept his owne daughter, in steede, of his con­cubine, and being made great with child by this Priest shée confessed, (as sone as shée was examined by the Magistrates) that her father, the Priest and parson of the parishe had gotten her wyth childe. When thys Priest was broughte to be [...] [Page]examined, he denied not his manlie facte, but stoode in proouinge the same hys vn­naturall déede, to haue bene lawfull and commendable: for (saide he) shee is my base daughter, I haue nourished and broughte her vp from a childe vnto wo­mans estate, and in recompence of all my charges, costes, and labour, she ought to supply my want with her own bodie, beinge forbidden to marrie: and with whome can suche a man as I am, being destitute of a wife, be better plea­sed, then wyth hys owne daughter base begotten? If I had takē an other mans daughter, I had offended none but the parentes: but séeinge I haue vsed myne owne daughter, to fullfill my luste, no man (I thinke) oughte to bee offended. Thys bawdie Prieste escaped vnpuni­shed, for they that had the examination of him, belike were as had as hee. How wittie his words were, let al men iudge. If a Massemonger cannot get one or o­ther to accomplish his libidinous lust, he will then procure to himselfe his daugh­ter, yea sister, yea and hys mother, ra­ther then faile: such is the impretie of the idolatrous Priestes. At Viterbo in Ita­lie, Anno domini 1579. there was a [Page]Prieste borne at Naples, that loued the Burdell house so well, that he sayd three or foure Masses in one day, to gette hym some money, to the ende his often com­minge to the Burdell houses mighte be more accepted. As I my selfe trauayled from Millane to Rome, I haue had them oftentunes in my iourney, that woulds not sticke to play the parte of a ingler in their maskinge garmentes at the aultar, before whome they woulde, yea euen a shéepe if you gaue him but six pence. And you shall finde a popish prieste, that will say Masse in the fieldes for the safegarde of the sheepe againste the wolfe. Let tra­uailers reprooue mee: if this bee vntrue, that a man for a little money, shall haue manye Masses, and that of one Masse­monger, in one day. At Vigleuan a citie in Italie Anno domini 1578. there was a riche citizen that had buried hys wife, and afterwardes coulde take no rest in his house in the night time, for the sturre and noyse of hys wiues spirite. This citizen asked councell of a Chap­laine of our Ladies, what was best to be done▪ this priestes deuice was, for lucre and gains that there shoulde bee manye Masses soonge for his wiues soule, which [Page]was (as he said) tormented by the deuel in his house. This citizen demaunded of the priest what money hee woulde take to redéeme hys wiues soule by hys Mas­ses, from all such tormentes, misery and griefe, wherewyth shee was perplexed and tormented. The prieste vndertooke for a hundreth crounes that hys wiues soule shoulde flie to heauen. The citizen, to be in quiet, was contente to graunte his request. The prieste vsed a long sea­son to saye Masse for the deliuery of thys spirite, but it woulde not b [...]e: the more Masses were said, the more was the spi­rite vexed, and made the greater rum­blinge in the citizens house. The citizen being in a chafe, came to the prieste, and told him, that if he woulde not vse better Masses, to deliuer his wiues spirite from that vexation and trouble wherein shee was, he would not onely haue his mony backe againe, which the priest had recei­ued, but also take reuengemente vpon him, for that he by his flattery had béene deluded: when the priest heard thys be­inge somewhat skillfull in magicke, hee craued to come to hys house that nighte, and I cannot tell howe, whether by hys coniuration, or by any other meanes, it [Page]came to passe that the spirite neuer ap­peared afterwardes nor yet was hearde. But surely if he had not bene skillfull in Nigromancie, he had neuer chased away this spirite of illusion out of the citizens house by hys Masses. Hee tried seuen or eight weekes by these Masses to get this somme of money and coulde not for all that, but for one or other couenante and bargaine he made with the deuill in one night, the citizens wiues spirite neuer did afterwardes once disquiet the house. Thus oftentimes it happeneth with the papistes, that when with their Masses they obtaine not their purpose and in­tent, then by their magical arte they will do what they can. There was a Prieste at Hadocke in Bauaria, that made a woman beleue, that she should be trans­formed to a mare, and that the deuill should ride vpon her ouer craggie moun­taines and stony places vnles she would fullfill his fleshly lust. This Prieste, for that he had fallen out wyth her husband, durst not come to his house, nor his wife to the priestes house. The prieste wan­tinge no crafte and subteltie, when the woman came to confession, hee willed her to repaire home, and to faine herselfe [Page]very sicke, and like to die, and to crie for master Parson to heare her confe [...]sion againe, for that shee had concealed some notorious crime from him. As soone as shée came home she sounded, as thoughe the spirite was readie to take her, viti­mum vale from the bodie. Why howe now frowe (quoth her husbande) what ayleth you to be sicke, and so sicke, that you are like to die? Oh husbande sende spéedelye for master Parson, or els I muste saye adue to you all, adue to thys worlde, before I haue confessed that to master parson, which troubleth my con­science, and from whome I haue con­cealed in my confession a thing which I could haue vttered to day. Ah my bodye is féeble, my harte panteth full sore, my strength fayleth me, my féete beginne to ware colde, my breath is shorte, I am readie to geue vp the ghost: Oh call for master parson, that I may bée shriuen a­gaine. The prieste was sente for, and as hee entered the chamber, hee sprinckled the same with water, and then he sayd so his patient, how do you neighbour, I am come hether to geue you ghostly comfort, and to heare your confession, and to mi­nister the Sacramente of holye vnction. [Page]He caused all thē that were in the cham­ber to depart thence, vntill he had played hys feates of actiuitie wyth her: but the morning following she being recouered, was very merrye and [...]ocand. The wo­mans husband being a wise man suspe­cted some secrete frendship to haue béene betwéene hys wife and the parson, in so much that euer afterwardes hee inuited the parson to dinner and supper, twice or thrice a wéeke. Vppon a tune he fayned that he would make a iourney to Inghel­statte, and remayned at home vnknown to his wife in a counting house of his, and then the good wife, not mistrustinge any thing, made the priest of the parish to bée called, and ordained notable good chéere for his entertainement: at night, as they were merrie & had made good chéere, her husband tooke them both naked, & made the priest lighter by both hys stones. Oh villaine (quoth the husband to the priest) hast thou thus vsed me for the great cur­tesie that I haue shewed thée? therfore I am reuenged on thée: holde, take thy stones, and kepe them in thy purse at all times when thou sayest Masse: nowe I am out of doubt thou wilte neuer make more kuckoldes. Then hée put his wife [Page]in a close chamber, and gaue her breade and water once a daye, for the space of one whole yeare. There was an other priest but here in England by reporte in Quene Maries time that heard the con­fession of a gentlewoman, how she vsed the carnall company of a younge gentle­man of that parish: the priest beeing of a leacherous disposition practised by all meanes possible to obtaine her fauoure, and by amorous talke he assayed her ma­ny wayes, but all in vaine: at last there came a maide a seruaunte of that gentle­womans to him to shrift, and when she had made an ende of her confession, hee asked her where she was borne, she told him in such a shiere, naming Yorkeshire: hee asked in what place there, and shee told him, the place, he asked the names of her parentes, and shee tolde hym, I am glad (quoth he) that I haue founde a cousin here, I came from thence where you were borne, and your mother was my aunte. You knowe I am parson of this parishe (quoth hee) and haue some substaunce, I haue no kinsfolke here in this parishe besides you good cousin, and therfore come often and continualiye to my house, for I will make you executrix [Page]of all that enioye. The poore maide was glad to finde such a cousin, but when she came vnto his house, hee had boughte a paire of perfumed gloues to be deliuered by his cousin to her mistresse, whiche be­ing deliuered, her mistresse on a sodaine was wrapte in loue with the prieste, so that shée from that tyme forewardes fea­sted the priest full o [...]ten, and tooke hym for her seconde paramour. Thus the Priest, by his knauish conceite, got hys pleasure on the gentlewoman. Popishe priestes wante not their traines of sub­telties, to bring that to passe, which they desire: as by manye histories of their liues it plainely appeareth. If I shoulde put in writing the abuses of those priests whome I haue partlye knowne, and of whome I haue partlye heard, then thys booke shoulde grow to a greate volume: but the christian reader maye by the hi­storie of the vngodly shauelinges here re­cited take heede of their hipocrisie, and counte them as false Prophetes, and wolfes in shepes clothing. Their works do testifie, that among them, there is no God, but the Pope: and they saye with the fleshly Epicure, Geue me that is here presente, and let God alone with that is to [Page]come. If they were true Christians, and had regard to their soules health, would learne by the sermons of faythfull prea­chers, and vnderstande by the holye scri­ptures, that besides this life, besides this world, this kingdome, these thinges here present, there be other things, and much greater thinges, an other life, an other kingdome, an other worlde to be looked for, doubtlesse they would neuer dissem­ble with the people as they do. What do they thinke that God knoweth not their secrete sodomie, their pollution, and car­nall copulation? Will they be named holy virgins, sacred priestes, and chaste sacrificers, because many of them, follow the councell of S. Benet. Si non caste, tamen caute. If thou canst not liue chast­lie, walke closelie. They passe not to dis­please God in his heauenly sight, but the displeasure of man they dread: and ther­fore they thinke themselues as happie as any Saintes, if the people knowe not of their wickednes. Here in this world, they hunte for praise, vaineglorie, opinion of holines, and for humble reuerence: they will be estéemed before al others, and sa­luted as holy fathers, and chaplaines to our Ladie. O Englishe men beware of [Page]these false Prophetes, and you that are infected with the poyson of Popish super­stition, aske councell in tyme, vse some good remedie to purge the infection out of your soule, apply the salue of the woorde of God vnto your griefe, and you shalbe holpen, and made whole, safe, and sound againe: repente, repente, flie from papi­strie while it is time, ere it be to late, for our life is very shorte. To write farther of the incontinencye of the Popes holye priestes, I thincke it not néedefull, for that the whole world knoweth, that po­pish priestes, for the moste parte (yea in a manner all) haue euer liued and doe liue incontinentlye, for all their bragges of chastitie: they let loose the raines to all the iust of the flesh. Let trauailers to for­raine countreies beare witnes with me, of that whiche I haue reported by them. Marke the liues of the popishe priestes that are in Flaunders, Brabante, Hol­land, Friseland, Fraunce, Sauoy, Ita­lie and Germanie: you shall confesse, al­beit they are wifelesse, yet that they are not womanlesse; albeit they are forbid­den to marrie, yet that they are permit­ted to kepe concubines: they haue them, I haue seene them, I haue talked wyth [Page]them, and both he and shee haue confes­sed that they were dispensed with all. It is not one priest that is dispensed to take a concubine: neither is it two, neither is it twentie, neither is it a thousande: but al Massemongers, of what countrey soe­uer, are suffered to haue concubines. Is it marueile then, that the Popes shaue­linges do so vehemently inueigh against priestes marriage, seinge it is tollerable for thē to kepe concubines▪ if the Popes dispensation were good and godlye (as it is not) surely better it were to take a concubine, then to marrie a wife. For a con­cubine if she were a shroe, and sharpe of her tongue, a man might put her awaye, and take an other, and so hée coulde take the choyce and proofe of two and fiftie in one yeare, and the Pope should dispence withall. Is it to bee wondered that the Pope hath so many subiectes, more loyal vnto him, then to their naturall Princes, séeing he dispenseth with them in all their wickednes, and alloweth their deuelish practises, and furthereth their impious and Venereous inclination, wyth hys Antichristian permission? The whore of Babilon, the minister of Antichriste, and the false Prophetes prohibite ma­trimony, [Page]but allow all maner of whore­dome. They condemyne chaste wedlock and approue a lasciuious life. These are the enormities of the churche of Rome, thys is the imquitie of the Pope and of his Cardinals, to establish impietie, and to suppresse vertue, to punishe yea and count the heretiques Priestes, that seke vnder the yoke of wedlocke to avoyde fornication, and to leaue others vnpu­nished that kéepe concubines: yea to permitte them to take as manye as they liste. The law of chastitie enioyned vnto Priesthoode, the which was firste ordey­ned to the preiudice of wemen, induceth Sodomie into the Churche: the delicate féeding and fare of the Clergie, will haue ryther a naturall purgation, or some worse: the secrete trial and proofe of such men is, that they do delighte in wemen. But God of his mighte for priny sinnes doth sende open vengeance. And though the worlde spieth their pronenesse to lea­cherye, yet neuer reckou they wedlocke any godly estate of liuing, though it were an onelye order instituted of God in the beginninge: yea for hys Priestes also But commōly they haue diswaded both men and wemen from it, as from a most [Page]pernicious euill, or from a mischiefe of al mischiefes, callinge it foolishnes, beastli­nesse, a walking in darkenesie, a maine­tenance of leachery, a fullfilling of flesh­lye desires, a grounde of all vice, an en­traunce of death, a corruptinge of may­denhoode, a lake of miserie, a claye pit of vncleannesse, a thraldome of Egipte, a nette of Sathan, a snare of the deuell, and a ponde of perdition: suche peruerse stomackes haue they borne to holy wed­loeke, instituted by God himselfe in Pa­radise, and confirmed by Christes pre­sence in Galile, and by the firste miracle that he wrought there, as some write, at the marriage of S. Iohn the Euangelist, that they séeke to subuerte the same. Let the Pope disanull priestes marriage, yet some will followe the councell of Paule in thys, that it is better to marrie then burne, better it is to take a wife, then to shutte a whore in his studie, as Bonner did, the whiche place was shewed vnto me. Pope Calixtus the seconde of that name, was he that first forbad Priestes, Deacons or Subdeacōs to haue wiues: whereupon one in Englande wrote a sharpe Epigramme againste him, thus much in effect:

This was the arrogante and shame­lesse impudencie of thys minister of Sa­than, Pope Calixtus, to forbid the mar­riage of Priestes. And who séeth not ma­nifestly these mens impudencye, whiche contemne and disprayse that honorable estate of holy wedlocke, to the ende that they mighte aduaunce their owne filthy­nes, and bring vncleane single life, and the abominable vowes of their counter­fait chastitie in estimation, to the vere­fyinge of that in themselues whiche hath bene long agoe foretolde by the holye A­postle. [Page]I will tell you of the knauerye of one or two priestes, in hearing the con­fession of two maides at Naples, as I was credibly informed of certaine mar­chantes that had beene there when thys thinge was done: and trauayled in my companie, Anno domini 1578. This Neapolitane Priest was incensed wyth the loue of a fayre mayde of Naples, hee attempted manye wayes by large effers, & greater promises to winne this maide to satisfie his inordinate lust: but hee la­boured in vaine. At last, he deuised to al­lure her to follie after this manner, when the maide came to be shriuen of him, and had ended her confession, the Priest say­ned that our blessed Ladye appeared bee­fore him in his studie, and willed hym to tell the mayde, that in stede of absolution shee shoulde sléepe with him that nighte. For of her (sayd our Lady to the Priest) should a child be begotten that should be one of the pillers of the Churche. When the mayde heard thys, she aunsweared, oh good God, what caused our blessed Ladie to bid me sleepe with you, but sée­ing our blessed Ladie hath willed mee to lie by your side to night, I will do as she hath commaunded, for feare of her heauy [Page]displeasure. There was a Prieste at Si­nagaglia Anno domini 1580. who wanted money, it may be to offer to the Curtezans, and therefore hee inuented this shift. There was a rich widow that had good store of mony, and came to him to be shriuen: now when shée had ended her confession, hee tolde her that it was reuealed vnto hym in a vision, that if this woman would not goue hym toure­score crownes, he should not absolue her of her sinnes, vntill shee woulde vowe a monasticall lyfe. Thys woman had ra­ther depart from sourscore crounes, then not to haue bene absolued. I haue writ­ten of these Iesurtes, for that they are sent by their Rectors to thys land, to pe­stre the same with heresies, and haue ge­uen euidente notice to our countreymen of their hypocrisie and dissimulation, ex­hortinge them to beware that by their outward shew of holines they do not de­ceiue them. They are as craftie as the Scribes and Phariseyes, and they per­uert the people as the Scribes and Pha­riseyes did in Christ his time. These Ie­suites preach not as they oughte, for they leaue the woord of God, and teache their owne traditions, they preache euill, for [Page]they wrest the verie Scriptures, or ra­ther rashly gather them out of old rotten papers, readie wrasted by others. And for that I say wrasted by others, the stolē bookes of controuersie that are scattered here in Englande, who bringe them but the Iesuites, and from whence came they but from Rome, or frō some other citie where there is a Couent of begging Iesuites? What written bookes of diui­nitie soeuer the learned Iesuites of anye nation haue, by the post they impart the copy thereof to all Iesuites of all coun­treyes. And whereas hee wrote, that I tooke some parte of my firste booke out of Philip of Norleyes booke, what is that to the purpose? You take, to aunsweare that part y ^e help of Bellar [...]inus dictates, which haue made D. Bristow famous. For he committeth his lesson to memory as a child doth the dictates of his master, and readeth them publiquely to the En­glish studentes. His bokes that are writ­ten against that learned man D. Fuilke, & others, are gathered (as I suppose) out of father Robert Bellar [...]inus dictates. Well, let these thinges passe, vntill a more conueniente tyme serue to wryte hereof. But this by the way I annswere [Page]to Parson (as I surmise) his malicious detractions, where he sayeth that they of the reformed churche are driuen to thys exig [...]nt, that they are glad to haue suche simple fellowes as I am, and others whome hée named. But let him be assu­red that in Englande, at this daye, there are a thousand that can encounter wyth hym, and all the whole crew of blasphe­mous Iesuites. They are able (God bee thanked) to confute them in their errors, albeit in hugge [...] mugger they are groate braggers, and little doers: they are fear­full barkers, but small biters. What prayse shall the learned winne by med­ling with these boasters and braggers of themselues, who when they come to de­fend their cause, they alledge elde wiues tales, the liues of fayned Saintes, false miracles and such like trifles. As for the Scriptures, whē they alledge them, they peruert the sence thereof. Now, shoulde learned men trouble themselues wyth suche peruerse men, that haue no know­ledge in Gods booke, the most vnlearned minister in England is able by authori­ty of Scripture to ouerthrow them with their sophisticall and fantastical religion. For these greate Rabines and masters, [Page]do neuer once read the bible orderly, and yet the blinde and ignoraunt people doth reuerence, these sowgelders in stéede of Gods. For in Germanie these Iesuites are so termed in their language. These are they whiche now leaue their bellies, séekinge their owne glory, & not the true glory of God, which mighte bee s [...]tfoorthy euen by Balaams asse: much lesse then ought we to contemne such abiectes, as preach the word of God. We haue (sayth S. Paul) thys treasure in bricketh ves­sels that the glorie of the power mighte be of God, and not of our selues. God hath chosen the foolishe thinges of the worlde, to confounde the wise: and the weake thinges hath God chosen, to con­founde the mightie: and vtle thinges of the world and despised, hath hee chosen, and thinges that are not, to bringe to noughte thynges that are, that no fleshe shoulde glory in his sighte. But now all men (in a manner) will bee wise, and therefore they are ashamed of the simple Gospell, and of vneloquente preachers, they are ashamed (truelye) to saye wyth Paul, and to performent in déede: I bre­thren, when I came vnto you, did not come with excellencie of woordes, or of [Page]wisdome, preachinge the testimonie of Christe. For I estéemed not my selfe, to know any thing amongest you, but one­lye Iesus Christe, and hym crucified. 2. Cor. 2. O voice of a true Euangelist? But now we are ashamed of this foolishe preachinge, by the whiche it hath pleased God to saue al those which beléeue in him and béeinge puffed vp wyth out owne fleshly minde, we do rather choose proud­lye to deale in those thinges wherein we are slenderly séene, preaching fables and lies, and not the law of God, whiche is vndefiled, and conuerting mens soules. God geue the people grace better to e­stéeme his word then they haue done he­therto, that they may geeue due honour vnto the ministers thereof, according as they are admonished in the Scriptures. For nowe scarse the Bishops are stée­med, as they ought to bée: as for others, they are had in cōtempt with the proud, rather thē otherwise. Who now a dayes more vile with the foolishe people then a minister? who more abiect then he? the Papistes haue their Priestes in greater reuerence, who are better loued by a greate deale, then our ministers are a­mongest their owne flocke. I doe not [Page]write this, that mē should come to the ministers with cap and knee: no, they ought not to bee so vaineglorious as to require such obeisance, but they ought to bee re­garded and honoured, as Christ himselfe hath appointed. But of this matter I wil write no more, let the people if they wyll follow Christe, do as Christe hath com­maunded: or els let them bee sure they are not the followers of Christ. But least I might seeme too tedious in this disc [...]ue­ry of the Iesuites, and Papistes, I will here make an ende directinge all the reste of my talke wholy vnto thē both, whome this dialogue specially concerneth, exhor­ting them to be reformable, and to cease of from hauing the word of the eternall God in contempt. Be ye therefore better minded then you haue beene hetherto, say with Haule, It is ha [...]de to kicke a­gainste the pricke, O leaue your erro­neous opinions, abhorre heresie, and bee reconciled to the truth, that you may bée receiued agayne into the perpetuall fa­uour of God, purchased by Christe to all them that by fayth and repentance come vnto him. You haue examples of diuers that recanted and forsooke the dregges of popish superstition, and spent their bloud for the testimonie of their fayth, as you [Page]may reade in the histories of the churche of Christe. And as you haue them, so fol­lowe them, to your owne saluation. Now as longe as you are obstinate, and stiffenecked in your naughtie and per­uerse opinion, so long shall you be vnder the indignation and displeasure of God and the Prince, so longe shall your state be miserable, your mind vnquiet, fraught full of feare and dread, your harte out of comforte, no safetie in your life, brieflye you shall lacke no calamitie: but if you will recant, your trespasse shall be pardo­ned, and displeasure remooued, then feare shall departe, comforte shall come, and you shall receyue hope of eternall lyfe. Your feare shalbe turned to hope, death to lyfe, damnation to saluation, hell to heauen, malediction to blessinge, the po­wer of Sathan shalbe dissolued, your care shalbe tourned to consolation, final­ly all the felicities of heauen, so many as Paradise can holde, shall belonge to you as to all other vnfained beleeu [...]rs of the Gospell of Christ Iesu. O Englishmen, you that are Priestes secundum ordi­nem Antichristi Papae Romani, after the order of Antichriste the Pope of Rome, be no longer enemies to the truth deuided and sundred from God and your [Page]louing Quéene Elizabeth. Your obstina­cie ingendereth wrath, and prouoketh iudgement: and iudgement by law mi­nistreth death and damnation: wyth death entereth the deuill, and with hym heapes of infinite miseries and calami­ties. In this pickle the impenitent lyeth for euer, without redemption of our Lord and Sauiour Iesu Christ. So long as you hold with the Pope, you shall be execrable vnto God, and odious vnto your Prince: expend therfore and weigh in your mindes, caste with your selues, in what a miserable perplexitie & wret­ched case you Massemongers are, so ma­ny as be not yet recōciled vnto the truth in Christ. Tourne vnto the liuing God, and as you haue long tasted of his wrath so now beginne to taste hys frendship. A better frend you cannot haue, yea, to say the trueth, no other frende ye lacke but him, whome if you haue your frende, no enemy can do you hurte: if he be your e­nemie, no frende can do anye good: if ye desire his frendship, ye néede not séeke it farre, it is offred vnto you in the Scrip­ture, at what tyme so euer ye recante, God is ready to receiue you into hys fa­uour and grace. But then you must take it while it is offred. Behold, now the ac­ceptable [Page]yeare: yet is the good tyme, yet the golden time, yet is the daye of salua­tion, yet to day lasteth, and yet the gate is open, wherein the wise virgins maye enter. But if it be once shutte againe, the foolish virgins shall neuer haue it open a­ny more. Take mercy and pardon ther­fore, while it is offred: refuse it not least ye be refused. The eternall God, and fa­ther of our Lord Iesus Christe, which is true in his promises, and wonderfull in all his workes, haue pittie of al Papists, and spéedelye conducte you to the know­ledge of the truth, that you may be saued through the merites of Christ Iesus, our onely redéemer and Sauiour.

Amen, And I beséeche the same God, to géeue them some por­cion of his holy Spirite, to kepe and con­firme them in the knowledge of the eter­nall trueth of his Gospell: that wée all, like brethren, and children of one father, maye laude and prayse the name of the Lord our God, that exalteth the humble and méeke, doth throw & pull downe the proud and highe minded Papistes. And thus muche brieflye touchinge this Dia­logue of Popish Priestes, and theyr exe­crable abuses.

NOwe are wee come to Rome the famous Citie of the worlde, and the seate of Antichrist: but before wée enter into this Citie can yée tell me how this Church is called, and who payde for the building of the same?

What the name therof is I cannot tel, but Pope Iulius the third, when the state of true religion, was sub­uerted, and altered, and papistrie plan­ted, erected the same Church, of his owne [Page]expences, and made processions, and sing­ing Te Deum with great solemnitie, to declare the ioye and gladnesse that was pretended for this reconciliation.

I thinke the Diuell triumphed very much, & great ioies were then in hell amongst his route of Angels. For this metamorphoses, and sodaine al­teration in religion, the Pope his vice ge­rent here on earth reioysed, and the Diuel his maister was glad that both king and quéene, nobles and commons disioyned and disseuered themselues from the vni­tie of Christes Church. The Pope was more enriched, his authoritie amplified, & his kingdome enlarged: the Pope had plentie of worldly goodes, and Peter pence pleased him best, the Diuell sought no­thing els but the sillie soules of the wret­ched persecutours, and their vnhappie soules contented him most of all. But tell mee (I pray you good friende Theophi­lactus) what moued y ^e Pope to erect this Church without the walles of the Citie?

I knowe not in good sooth what caused him so to doe, vnlesse he had thus conceit in his subtil braines, [Page]that K. P. and Q. M. shoulde stande with­out the Citie to sée the repayring of the ruinous walles of Rome, the cytie of ini­quitie, and there both K. P. & Q. M. should stande to paye the workemen their hyre. And suerly so it came to passe in the daies of K. P. and Q. M. that a great part of the ruines of that Citie was repayred vp a­gayne, to the contentment of the Pope and his master, whome hée serueth, euen the iayler of hell. But nowe all prayse bée ascribed to the Lorde, that by the meanes of his faithfull seruant Queene Elizabeth our gracious princesse, the light of the Gospell shineth throughout all this kingdome, the ruines that were once re­payred are nowe broken downe againe, Antechristes religion is exiled, and the trueth is preached of painefull labourers in Christes vineyarde, and their doctrine is embraced of all true English subiectes. Gods holy name bée praysed therefore.

Let vs nowe enter into the Citie, where shall wee take our lod­ing to night? can you tell?

Yes that I can, wée will go to the English hospitall, and there [Page]wee shall bee welcome, if we tel the schol­lers any newes that are in the colledge adtoyning to that hospitall.

What newes shall wée shew them? they are of a contrary religi­on to vs, they are disloyall subiectes both to God, and to their princesse. And if wée woulde tel them any such newes as they couet to heare, wée shoulde offende both God and our louing Quéene: therefore wee dare certifie them of nothing done in Englande, without offence: and if wée durst, yet we would not, for that they are degenerated from the faith, and are vn­naturall vnto their Countrey.

Tush man, you are melancolique, you feare to vtter that which may be vttered for newes vnto y ^e schollers. Let vs tell them that father Edmunde Campion, Ignatius di layolas priest is highly promoted in Englande. For hee is Archbishoppe of the Towre of London, and retaineth in his seruice ma­ny a stout Prelate. Let vs tel thē of their Catholique martyre William Sherwood, which was executed and put to death, for that hee committed a horrible murther [Page]vpon Richard Hobson, Gentleman, both prisoners in the Kinges benche for the profession of Poperie. Let vs bidde them make haste to returne home, they shall want no preferment: the Bishopricke of Newgate? is voyde, the Archdeaconship of the Kinges bench is vacant, and ma­ny rich benefices in the towre doe waite and tarry their comming home. For these recited places are receptacles of all the worthiest vnreformed priestes that come from beyond seas. These newes wil ani­mate & embolden y ^e Popes schollers very much, to séeke to haue accesse to Cardi­nall Modone, for their letters of presen­tation to this Deanerie, and that Deane­rie, to this Archdeaconship & that Arch­deaconship, to this benefice and that bene­fice. About a two yéeres agoe, there was such a brute at Rome, that Queene Eli­zabeth was dead, that the schollers tri­umphed, and were at variance betwéene themselues, who shoulde haue the beast Ecclesiasticall liuinges here in England, some said hée would bée deane of Paules, another woulde assigne to him selfe the Deanerie of Yorke, & so euery one would [Page]choose to himselfe, one peculiar place or o­ther, therein to be deane, archdeacon, or parson, one of the schollers made sute to Cardinall Modone, to haue his letters of presentatiō to be made M. Parson assoone as hée came to Englande. And at ano­ther time there was great sturre, and controuersie at Rome, betwéene Goldwel Quondam bishoppe of saint Asse: and Shel­ley, Prior of the order of the crosse: which of them shoulde be Archbishoppe of Can­terburie, for both of them were perswa­ded, through a false surmised report, that our louing Quéene was disceased, whom God preserue frō day to day, to his glory, and the publique benefite of this fortunat English Iland. Their vaine interrogati­ons may bée fed and pleased by the newes before mentioned.

I am content to dee as you haue saide, for by the recitall of suche newes I will satisfie their inquisitiue de­maundes. But tell mée (good friend Theo­philactus) howe long may wée lawfully remaine in the Englishe hospitall, with­out offence vnto the superiours of that house?

Eyght dayes may we stay there, and haue both meate drinke, and lodging, which dayes being expired, wée must depart thence.

But shall wée bee exa­mined of our religion of the Popes in­quisitours?

There is no exami­nation of religion, vnlesse they haue you in suspition of a contrary religion. You may be in Rome twentie yéeres, and ne­uer be examined touching your religion, vnlesse some of your acquaintance to be­wray you, or els y ^t you speake one worde or other inuectiuely against their Ro­mish religion: which if yée doe, then shall you bee straitly examined of the inquisi­tours, and haue no fauour, without re­canting the trueth, but suffer taunts and rayling words which you shall not want nor any miserie or sorrowe that they can procure you in any respect.

But wée will take héede what wée speake, that wée fall not into their mercie. But let these words passe, and nowe tel me (I pray you) who were the founders of this hospitall, and what [Page]reuenewes hath it, and what is he that is protectour of this hospitall.

Kings of Englande first founded this hospitall, and bought certaine houses within the walles of the Citie of Rome for the maintenance ther­of: as for landes, it hath none belonging vnto it. Cardinall Morone is protectour thereof, and of the English colledge adioy­ning vnto the same. D. Morice, a welch man, is the prouider and manciple there­of, which D. Morice was sometimes Rec­tour of the English Seminarie, but du­ring y ^e time of his Rectourship, there was such dissention in the Colledge amongst the English men, and the welchmen, that I thinke the spirits of darkenesse did bet­ter agrée together in hell. This D. Mo­rice fauoured his own countreymē more then hée did the other, wherfore the Eng­lishe men coulde not abide him, nor allow him to bée Rectour. D. Parkar, if hee vsed no parcialitie, but spake vprightly, surely he was worthy to be commended. D. Mo­rice saide he to mée (beeing then at Millan in his house) is appoynted Rectour of the English Seminarie, but he is so proude [Page]and stately, that hée rideth in a Wagon, as though hee were a prince, and causeth the English schollers to follow him all a long, aloofe, a farre of.

While he thus rangeth and wandereth abrode, the Englishe schollers are sure to fare hard: but the Welshmen will not be so vsed. Maister Morice (say they) is our countruman, and therefore we will fare of the best: and surely so they did, as I vnderstoode by their owne confession. For they had the best chambers, the best apparrell and the best commons: for the cooke was a welshman, the kéeper of the wine seller was a welshman, & al were welshmē that had any office: so that they could controul the other schollers at their pleasure. And when any english scholer made sute to be of the Colledge, he would aske him with a grim countenance from whēce he came, and what was the cause of his comming: then he woulde tell him that there came more wandering fugi­tiues out of england then out of Wales. But if he vnderstoode there came a welsh man, he woulde receiue him very cour­teously and entertaine him ioyfully, and [Page]so woulde his countreimen take him by the fiste, with many congratulations. O proud vncharitable wretches, what di­stinction make you of Wales and Eng­land, that there shoulde breede in your poysoned breastes, such canckred malice towardes them that bee of your owne crewe, and superstitious secte of poperie. This Morice the welshman neuer loued thē y ^t were borne in England, for proofe whereof I will bring his owne slaunde­rous reportes, which I haue heard with mine eares vttered frō his owne mouth, euen to his countreimen. The english­men (sayd he) are proud and ambitious braggers, and they are slaunderers of our nation. If he had sayd, both we welshmē, and you englishmen are high minded, ful of enuie, bragging and standering one of another, I would haue holden with him: but seeing he sought to cleare himselfe, and his owne countreymen, in shifting their faults from themselues to the eng­lishmen, I commend not his charitie. He would say often, that the english papists were plaine hypocrites, and had no more religion (to vse his owne termes) then a [Page]dogge: that they sought for vaineglorie, and a name of holines. And so they did doubtles, and so did his owne countrei­men too, albeit he spake nothing against them, as hereafter in the sequel of this chapter most manifestly shall appeare, to the viewe of England. I will speake the truth for both, I will not spare to dis­couer the malice and hypocrisie of the one and the other, I will not be partiall, nei­ther shall affection drawe mée to display the offences of the one, and kéepe in si­lence the enormities of the other: but with an vpright conscience and an equal minde I will write of them both, as well of welshmen as of Englishmē, as y ^e truth shall giue place. They neuer came to dinner or supper without iarring & brau­ling one with y ^e other, they vsed such ig­nominious names the one to the other, as I am loth to rehearse for Ciuilitie sake. I am a Gentleman quoth the one: thou art a rascall, quoth the other. The welshman beginneth to fret and fume, and saith, albeit I came to Rome with broken & rent apparrell, yet I am borne of as good blood as thou art: stop there [Page]quoth the other: nay, I tell thée plainely I am as good a Gentleman as thou art: where sir, quoth the Englishman, in Wales I trowe. For if a man of your countrie, bée able to spend fortie groates a yéere, and pay thirtie to the Quéene, hée is a Gentleman of Wales. Then chafed the other, and said, there are as good gen­tlemen in Wales, as in any place of England. Before you came out of Sax­onie, and conquered this auncient Island of Britan, now named Englande by the traines of your subtiltie, wée Welshmen ruled the coastes of England: but nowe being vanquished through your pollicie, wée are driuen to Wales. Oh diuelish mindes to conceiue such wicked and vn­godly thoughtes: the Englishmen not a­ble to abide such malicious reproches, cal­led them vacabounds, variets, and beg­gerly rascals, horsestealers, stealers of kye and oren. The Englishmen would abuse thē with quips, scofs, and mowes, that my mind is troubled sore to remem­ber and put in writing the vncharitable­nes, and mutual dissention of both coun­triemen, English and Welshmen. At [Page]last D. Morice brought all the English students before Cardinall Morone, and cōplained of thē very vncharitably, and said they would bée ruled by noe aduer­tisements or exhortations which he vsed as hée said, to haue them reconciled to the Welshmen, and to bée contented to liue orderly and peaceably the one with the other. Hée mooued the Car­dinall of their dissolute liuing, and vnor­derly behauiour in the Citie of Rome. Whose complaints were of suche force with the Cardinal, that they were char­ged to depart the Colledge, and to get them packing out of the Citie. This charge being giuen to D. Morice, that they shoulde no longer remaine in the Colledge, Morice warned the English-students to depart, and kept his owne Countrie birdes with him, to solace and comfort him selfe with their company. Then the Englishmen tooke their scrips and bottels, & went to an Englishmans house that was married, to dinner: and after dinner, as far as I remember, they had accesse vnto the Pope, and the Pope hauing hearde before (I knowe not by [Page]whom) how vnruly they were, asked the English students, assoone as he saw thē, how chaunce they went not out of the Citie. For (said he) the gates of Rome are open, & you may depart out of the Citie when you will, no man shall let you. Then saide the English students, if your holinesse commaunde vs to forsake the Citie, wée will and must obey your holi­nesse commaundement: but this we tell your holinesse, that wée are come hither to Rome for conscience: sake, and for re­fuge. Hitherto your holinesse hath sustei­ned our néede, but if now (wée know not for what offence) wée bée banished the holy Citie of Rome, wée shalbe the most vnfortunate men liuing. For to our own Countrie wée dare not returne, being a­lienated and seuered from their religion, and whither wée may goe (most holy fa­ther) wée knowe not, wée haue neither lands, nor money to maintaine our wretched state: oh holy father haue compassi­on vpon vs, and forsake vs not vtterly, séeing we are redy to suffer martyrdome for your holinesse sake, and that by our death your authoritie shall be enlarged, [Page]your power increased, and your kingdom inriched. Wée are yours (holy father) both bodies and soules, by our life to doe your holinesse obedient seruice, and by our death to doe you holynesse honour. Therefore (holy father) receiue vs againe (wée beséech your holines) to fauour and grace, and wée shall from hencefoorth giue your holinesse no occasion of indig­nation or displeasure against vs. The Pope hauing vnderstood before, the cause of their dissention with the welshmen asked why they woulde not be ruled by their Rector D. Morice, they answered, because D. Morice fauoured his owne Countreymen more then them, beeing englishmen borne. The Pope being per­swaded by D. Lewis his Suffragane, y ^e if he should not maintaine the english­men, they would thē returne to england, and reuolt from papistrie, and denie him to be Peters successour and Christs vic­kar here on earth, and fearing the recan­tation and backslyding of his schollers▪ from him assented to their request, and their petition was to haue the Iesuites to be their superiours, so that as they re­quested [Page]it came to passe. Then the Pope caused one of his chamberlaines to place them in the colledge agayne. D. Morice was remooued from thence to be proui­der of the english hospitall, and father Al­phonsus an Italian Iesuite in D. Morice time of his rectorship, confessour, was chosen to be y ^e Rectour of y ^e english semi­narie. Father Ferdinando a Neapolitane was chosen to be maister of the students and so now eyght Iesuites haue the rule of the english seminarie. And since the Iesuites came to beare office in that se­minary, at the request of the englishe stu­dentes there were two welshmen put out of the colledge, who as yet remaine in the Citie, and liue as the Popes penti­oners, much better then they did in the Colledge, because there was such enmi­tie and serpentine hatred betweene one countrie man and another. And because I perceiued that the holy fathers the Ie­suites vsed partialitie, and blinde affecti­on, to the one countrie more then to the other, full often I attempted to escape out of the citie secretly, and coulde not, for that feare kept me backe. I went to [Page]the Rector very often to aske him leaue to departe to Rheines, there to be made priest, and to studie out my course in di­uinitie. But where as it is written, I was put out of the Colledge, as non proficiens, howe can that bee? For they coulde not put me out of the Colledge, if I had beene such a one as he malitiously fayneth me to be: because I was halfe a yeere in probation. And if I had beene non proficiens, the lawes of the colledge, were such y ^t then the Rector should haue warned me to forsake the colledge. But it came not so to passe, for I stayd there afterwardes, somewhat more then a tweluemonth I am sure, & I was in that Colledge in probation, well néere the space of two yéeres: and with muche a­doe I got leaue of the Rector, and the Pope, to goe to Rheines, as it is saide in my booke of recantation, &c. Nowe, to procéede farther in the narration of the dissention of the students of the Englishe Seminarie, there is suche backbiting a­mongst thē) such slaundering, such moc­king, such rayling and reuiling the one of the other, that their colledge may wel [Page]hée named a Seminarie of dissention, a Seminary of hypocrisie, a Seminarie of pride, a Seminarie of treacherie, and a Seminarie of all mischiefe. They haue conceaued suche an inwarde grudge one towards an other, they are so stiffe nec­ked, so waywarde, and so crabbed, that seldome or neuer they will be reclaimed. Assone as they haue receiued the idol of y ^e Masse, and are gone out of the Churche, they fall out for some odde trifle or other, and vse suche reprochfull wordes one to another, that it is rather a Hell then a house, a place of dissentiō then a seminary of godlines. When they come to confessi­on, they knéele downe before a picture, and there looke as though they came to Tyborne: they bend their eyes towards the grounde, their faultes are so many, that they are ashamed to looke vp to the heauens, and there they tell the Prieste one veniall sinne or other, for mortall sinne they neuer commit (as they say, and as the Iesuites report of them. Such like faultes as these they tel their confessour, that they neglected to come to dinner at the first toule of the Bell, or els left their [Page]beades behinde, or came too late to asso­ciate his fellowes to the schole, or rose tardie to meditation. These faultes are counted veniall, but as for mortall sinnes, they neuer commit any, for then they shoulde loose the name of holinesse, and the Iesuites shoulde bée muche dis­commēded, to suffer them to offend mor­tally. The students must bée counted as holy as the Iesuites, for that these ho­ly fathers are appointed by our most ho­ly father the Pope, to traine vp the Stu­dents in all vertue and godlinesse. The Iesuites cannot abide to heare that they haue sinned mortally, euer since they be­came members of that societie of Iesu. Amongst the students of the English Seminarie, & the Iesuites their ouerséers, it is a veniall sinne to goe to the Burdello, I meane the Stewes secretly, they make it no mortall sinne. I coulde name some of the schollers, that in resorting to those places got the French pockes, but their names, vnlesse I bée called to question, I will bury in the pit of silence. When the schollers come to receiue the idoll of the Masse, they looke down so sad as may [Page]bée, some wéepe, and some receiue it ga­ping and knocking of their breasts, with such sighing and sorowfull lookes, as though they should swallow vp a Toade or a Frogge. And when the Priest is at the eleuation, they beginne to knocke their breasts apace, & to kisse the ground, crying signiore mio, y ^t the Italians may vnderstand their holinesse. When the Priest departeth from the aultar, they touch his masking garments, and then put their handes to their mouthes. They think there procéedeth some vertue from the Priestes Cope, and when they put their hand to their mouth, that the holy Ghost entereth into their bodies. There they knéele after Masse is saide, ratling their beades, as though they meant to a­wake our blessed Ladie (beeing fast a­sléepe) with the noyse thereof. They are as busie in counting their beades, as any vsurer in summing his money, so they goe from image to image, with kissing, bowing, & knéeling before thē. But when they come frō the Church, all that shewe of holines is quite forgetten, the one be ginneth to praise himselfe for his vertue, & is not ashamed to say that assone as he [Page]receiued the body (as he termeth it) of the Lorde, hée felt the holy Ghost suggesting & prompting him to say ouer his beades. The other beginneth likewise to extoll himselfe: I haue saide (saith hée) so many Pater nosters, and so many Créedes, so many Aue Maries, & so many Psalmes of our Ladie, only by the suggestion of the holy Ghost. By and by after, they will holde a Parliament how all things shall bée ordered in Englande, then they will beginne to name who are fauourers of their side, and what iolly champions they bée: Oh (say they) if these were dead, it woulde bée a happy worlde, with vs: or if these were receiued to the bo­some of our holy mother the Church, then we should be blessed, and haue our harts desire. These are the men of whome they talke so often, my L. of B. my L. of L. my L. T. my L. of H. Sir F. W. S. F. K. S. I. of C. Sir W. M. with diuers others, to whom God graunt ma­ny ioyfull yéeres, with health both of bo­dy and soule: I hope they shall neuer sée that golden day, that day of Iubiley.

God prosper the raigne of our soueraigne [Page]Ladie Quéene Elizabeth, and make her an olde woman in Israel: God defende her from all dissembling Papistes. Now to come againe to our English students, the Popes schollers, they are readie to fall downe to painted walles, and faire Sepulchres full of rotten bones: they are Saintes in the sight of men, and Di­uels inwardly. They hunt for vaine glo­ry, and lightly regarde the portion of the godly in the kingdome of God. They are deuout in visiting holy places (as they tearme them) and in going to Stations: they thinke that all their sinnes are for­giuen, if they mumble vp a fewe prayers in a couert tongue, before a dumbe idoll, and a painted image clothed like a liuing creature. What vice soeuer they com­mit, if it bée not against the Pope, nor a­gainst his procéedinges, indulgentiam ple­nariam obtinebunt omnium suorum pecca­torum. They shall be released of all their sinnes, bée they neuer so monstrous and execrable: yea, & they shall deliuer their parents out of Purgatorie. I thinke a mouse will carry their soules to heauē, vpon his backe, or els Robin Redbreast, [Page]for greater expeditiō, will flie with their soules vnder his wings to heauen. They say it is vnpossible for them to bée out of fauour with God, if the Pope loue them, and graunt them indulgence. Oh Rome, Rome, What a holy Citie art thou, in thée all men shall bée saued that are rich, and will please thy ruler with franke giftes, and humble obedience doone vnto his holy reuerence: his schollers are hap­py to bée in his grace, and to dwell in his holy and more then holy Citie, the Pope will graunt his schollers a frée pardon of all their sinnes, liue they neuer so wic­kedly, the Pope is their friende, and will giue them heauen, which place Lucifer holdeth in possession. But when the Pope his trustie seruant sendeth any of his welwillers thither, it is so large a rowme, that hée prepareth suche chābers for them, as are méete for their degrées: but if hée wyll presume to send any of his acquaintance, or of his fauourers, or of his disciples to the other heauen, where Christe raigneth perpetually: Saint Peter the porter of heauen gates wil not suffer them to enter in, but will charge [Page]them to depart, for that the Pope vsur peth the seate of an Apostle, and saith, he is Saint Peters Successour, whereas he followeth not Saint Peter in life, nor in doctrine.

You haue sufficiently declared the dissention of the Colledge, now I pray you speake somewhat of the orders thereof.

That will I doe gladly to pleasure you, if I may therein. First, they must rise early in the mor­ning, assone as they haue heard the se­conde sounde of the Bell. For the first sounde is for the Iesuites, to rise and fall downe on their maribones, and fall to contemplation. The second sound of the Bell is for the Iesuites, to ceasse from meditation &, for the schollers to ryse vp to rowle their beades, after the maner of a péece of cloth: then to knéele downe to contemplatiō for one houre space, and when the Bell hath roung againe, to rise vp from contemplation, and to heare Masse, and Masse being ended to repaire to their chambers, and there to a­bide vntill the Bel warneth them to the [Page]scholes. First the deuines scolasticall and positiue, then the phylosophers and logicians, and afterwardes the rhetorici­ans and gramarians. One forme after a­nother, at diuers and seuerall ringing of the bell, goeth to heare the publique lec­tures of the schooles of Rome: and when they are come home from y ^e schooles, then one or other ringeth the bell to washing of handes, ouer one of the Towels, which are there to wipe their handes therewith there is written, pro sacerdotibus, no schol­ler dareth to wipe his handes therewith. Then one ringeth the bell to dinner, and one of the priestes is appointed by father minister a Iesuite, to say grace, and grace is said in latine, and during dinner time, one of the schollers, who is appointed for that weake, ascendeth and goeth vp to the pulpit, whiche standeth in the lower ende of the refectorie or haule, and there-hée readeth one hystorie or other, and af­terwards the Martyrologue. But if any of the schollers haue committed some veni­all sinne, as they terme it, then he pro­nounceth his fault, and inioyneth suche penance as is specified by the superiours [Page]or written in his scedule, or peece of paper & assoone as he hath done reading, hee cō ­meth down, & immediately after wards, one or other ringeth y ^e bel, & thē they rise vp frō dinner to recreatiō, & their talke is of England, wishing & hoping y ^e subuersiō thereof, they had rather that aliants and straungers did rule the lande. And that I lye not, hée that is reconciled to the ve­ritie of the Gospel, and to the concorde of the reformed Church, may beare testi­monie (for this man was in my time in the Englishe Seminarie, and visited a scholler, once lying sicke in his bedde) which scholler died within a while after. There were fiue or sixe schollers, with the Neapolitane Priest, and a Iesuite then beyng of the Englishe Seminarie, nowe reader of Philosophie in the common schooles: these perfect scholers talked of y ^e Spanish Nauie, of D. Nicholas Saunders then Captaine generall ouer the souldi­ers which came out of Spaine with him, they hoped (said they) to sée the Masse o­penly aduanced in Englande, for (saye they) wée had rather haue the Quéene of Scottes, or the King of Spaine to go­uerne [Page]the land, thē our gracious Quéene Elizabeth, whom God defende, for his glo­rye sake, and the maintenance of true re­ligion. When I hearde these vnnaturall woordes pronounced of vnnaturall sub­iectes towards their natural soueraigne, and Countrie: I could no longer forbeare to speake somewhat after this manner, against these most malicious and blooddy wishings. Though (said I) being then moreinclined to superstition, then other­wise, the religion of our Quéene & Coun­trey differeth from the Catholique faith, yet doe I not reade in Gods woorde, that it is lawfull for vs to wishe the death of our naturall Princesse, y ^e ouerthrowe of our louing Countrey, wherein we were borne. Wée ought say they (as wée may reade in the scripture) hartily to pray vn­to God for the happie conuersion of our Quéene and countrey to the faith of the Romanes. Oh (say they) we had rather haue our parentes and friendes burned to ashes, then that they shoulde renounce the profession of the faith of Rome: but God sendeth a shrewd cow short hornes. Neuerthelesse, our hope and confidence is [Page]in the Lord of hoastes, that y ^c wished day of theirs shall neuer come to passe: if the euent of all things should happen ac­cording to their wished mind, they would not spare to imbrue their giltie handes in the innocent blood of their parentes and kinsfolke, that shoulde boldely and con­stantly confesse Christ to bée the inuisible head of the Churche, and not the Pope. Father Ferdinando commended their vil­lanous and Diuelish wishes. For breui­ties sake, I omitte to delate vpon their tir ānous doyngs, desires, and demaunds. Nowe I procéede to certifie the curteous Reader of their manner of penaunce. If any had committed some faulte by neg­ligēce or through disobedience, or contra­rywise, he hath penance inioyned him ac­cording to the qualitie of the crime. As if he cōmeth to late to acōpany his fellow to y ^c schooles, then he is cōmaunded to stand at dinner or supper, vntill the Rectour biddeth him sit downe. If any other rose somewhat too late to contemplation, hée is charged to lye prostrate on the ground vpon some couerlet or blanket, and there hée lyeth on his backe, vntill father Ree­tour, or father Minister, in the Rectours [Page]absence willeth him to rise vp. Some for not comming to church, some for neg­lecting the hearing of exhortations, some for passing by any Iesuites, some for one fault, and some for another receue diuerse penances. Some holde their fingers in their mouthes in the middle of the haule, some are forbidden to drinke, some haue not their antepast their first dish of meat, or of fruites, or of rootes: some of ther post­past their after dish, eyther of fruites or chéese. And thus much in breuity fouching their maner of penances. Euery one hath his bedde alone, for feare of the abomina­ble acte of Sodomie, which is vsuall at Rome amongst all fortes of people. And a little before midnight, one of the Iesui­tes commeth to the scollers Chambers, to sée what rule they kéepe, and whether euery one bée in his owne bedde. The scollers, both in winter and summer, weare two gownes, the one vpon the o­ther, and a doublet, and brieches in sum­mer: but in winter, they haue war­mer apparell. Euery wéeke they are bounde to say ouer their beades, for the Popes health, and his florishing prospe­ritie: and for the whole colledge of the [Page]the princely & Maiesticall Cardinalls. The first time that I came to the Eng­lishe Seminarie, father Rectour asked if I had any holy beades, I tolde him no: the next day the Rectour gaue me a payre of beades, and warned me diligently and affectionately to pray incessantly for our patrone y ^e Popes holinesse, as he termed it. I will (sayde I) say ouer my beades as well as I may: but I could not tell what to doe with my swapping beades, vnlesse to fray away dogges. For I coulde better number the beades seuerally, thē say my prayers on them. I neuer learned to vse my beades, but contented my selfe with my little primer booke, and when I lost them, I neuer sought any other.

I was complayned of to the Rectour, for that I regarded no better the Diuels guttes. To procéede further, to write of the orders of the english seminarie, I thinke it not amisse once a moneth, euery student hath giuen him the name of some Saint, whom for that moneth he taketh to be his patrone and defendour to him, hee directeth his prayers, and suppli­cations, as to God him selfe. In that lit­tle [Page]fragment of paper is written, to what purpose he shall pray, as for the Popes health and long life, that he may see re­uengement done vpon princes, who are fauourers of the reformed religion, that he may subdue all countries fallen from him vnder his seruile subiection. They pray for the Queene of Scottes, that shee may be restored to hir former dignitie, that she may attaine to the Crowne of England, establishe the Romish religion, and set abroche the Popes supremacie. They pray for the prosperous successe of D. Nicholas Saunders proceedinges in Yreland. I thinke the saintes, to whome they prayed were fast asléepe, and hearde not their prayers, or else their mindes were ouer much troubled with she pray­ers of other men, so that they coulde not bend downe their eares to them, most heartely beséeching their deuine gra­ces so fight with Saunders, disloyall to his soueraigne, false to his Countrey, and enemie to the trueth. They prayed that certaine hollow hearted papistes, of great countenance, & high reputation, should make an insurrection, and ioyne all their [Page]powers, mightes, and forces to assist and ayde the rebellious caitiffe and wickedly disposed wretche D. Saunders, captaine generall of a companie of Rakehels, and bloodde suckers. He that hath defended both our Queene and Countrey from all maltgnāt deuises & treachiries, wrought & attempted by disloyall and vnnaturall subiectes, I hope (of his free mercie and bountie, and not for any of our desertes) shall continue and preserue the royall e­state and dignity of our gracious Quéene and the desired welfare of this woorthye Englishe Ilande.

Lushe, wee Christians set not a rush by all the studentes vngodly prayers, what euill they wishe to their natiue soyle, the same euil chaunceth to them selues: they prayed earnestly, seriously, and as a man woulde thinke by their outward shewe, and by the often mouing of their lippes, very deuoutly: theyprayed, but their prayers tooke no place, the victorie re­dounded to the prayse of the Christians, and to the shame of the Papistes. D. Ni­cholas Saunders was glad to run away, and leaue his souldiers to abide the ende­lesse [Page]woe of vnfortunate destinie. One paire of féete were better then two paire of handes to D. Saunders, and his adhe­rents. Oh how vainely did the Students pray, that hée, for whom they prayed, shoulde abide suche losse of his souldiers, and suche infamie, with well neere the hazarde of the rope, that it had beene bet­ter for the Englishe Students to haue healde their peace, and not to haue wea­ried their braines, with vnlawfull inuo­cation of the helpe of saintes. For some­times the saintes are woont (belike) to take their recreation, solace, and pleasure being ouerwearied with the continuall sutes and supplications of phantasticall, and busie headed Papistes. Thus much for this matter, and this I adde by the way. Examine the state of thy religion, oh thou papiste, howe it beganne with crueltie, is nourished with tyrannie, and defended with forged fables of lying spi­rites: whereas y ^e christiā religiō tooke her beginning by lenitie, was mainteyned with sincere and perfect simplicitie, and is as yet sustained with genilenesse, mild­nesse, and amitie. If any bée gone out of [Page]the pathway of faith, wée exhort him bro­therly and friendly to forsake his errour, and to become a reformed man. These meanes the Papistes despise: by threat­nings and violence they séeke to inforce Christians to their pretensed religion, in­uented of man, through the malice of our auncient aduersarie the subtill Serpent, that deceiued Eue in the Garden of all pleasures and delightes. Euery Saintes euening, some of the Studentes are ap­pointed to couer their bodies au [...] their fa­ces with sackcloth, and come to the com­mon haule, whiles their fellowes bee at supper, and there to whippe themselues, so long, that some of their backes shall be altogether bloody. Some lay the strokes on their backes very softly, some make their whipcordes not to smart, and these fellowes will come forth, when the Rec­tour hath knocked his fingers on y ^e boord, and say, Oh what a good saint was hée, whose feast wée celebrate to morrowe. I whipt my self with ioy, to remember the good déedes of this celestiall saint. Oh (saide hee) and tooke a déepe sigh from the soles of his féete, my backe aketh, I think it bée altogether blooddy. Well, no force, [Page]I will once againe, for the saintes sake whom I serue, whip my selfe. And then hée goeth to his chamber, and in the darke he layeth on his gown, & not his backe w ^c such mighty strokes, y ^t if his gown could speake it would bid him holde his hands. When hée hath done beating his gowne in steade of his backe, hée commeth down to his fellowes, and sayth: I will morti­fie this proude fleshe of mine. For if I suffered but half the griefe and sorrowes that this saint Agnes, or saint Lucia, or saint Bridget, or any other saint did, I were not able to abide it: but yet I will not spare my backe, for my saintes sake. If hee had said: I will not spare my gown in the darke, hée had tolde the trueth. E­uery chamber hath one sainte or other to bée patrone or patronnesse thereof, as one Chamber hath S. Katherine of Stenna, another hath our Lady the virgin Marie, and another saint Gregorie, and another saint Peter, and suche like Saint hath euery chamber, to kéepe the same: and euery chamber is called according to the name of the saint. As for example, one Chamber is named sainte Peters [Page]chamber, and another our Ladies cham­ber, and another saint Gregories cham­ber, &c.

Haue the Studentes once euery fourtnight daies of recreation?

Yes they haue once a fourtnight a day to recreate them selues, and the Rectour prouideth vine­yardes for them, for their recreation, and there they practise Marshall feates. The one taketh vpon him to bée the chiefe leader of the campe, and some become Captaines, as Diuines: and all the rest are souldiers. Sometimes they fight with the canes of réedes in sporte, but at the ende of the skirmishe they fall out by the eares in earnest. The Iesuites are gladde sometimes to come and parte them, least they grieuously hurt eche one another. Twise a yéere there are priestes sent from Rome and Rhemes, to england, at Michaelmas & at Easter, and assoone as they are arriued in Englande, they haue their Patrones to maintaine them. some go like seruing men, some like gen­tlemen, and some like countreymen. There goe from both places, I meane [Page] Rome and Rhemes, about the number of twentie priestes. Wée may sée what vn­true subiectes there bée in Englande, to maintayne suche a seditious broode of pestilent shauelyngs. If they were al loy­all subiects, there should not be one masse priest in Englande: but séeing they are most delicately nourished, and most brauely mainteyned in apparell. What passe they for Christianitie, and true reli­gion. Amongst the Christians of the re­formed Church, it is but in vayne to hope for such delicate féeding, and gorgeous raymentes. These Epicures the papistes, perceiue very wel and often speake there­of, howe bare and poore the Christian Cleargie is, howe it is pouled and pilled by Gentlemen, Esquires, Knightes, and others: wée shall shortly (say they) sée the spirituall liuinges ioyned to the temporall, sir Iohn lacke latine shall be maister Parson to serue the parish, and the patrone of the benifice shall reape the commoditie. If the benifice bee woorth threescore poundes a yéere, sir Iohn shall haue twenty or scarce that: if it be woorth more, the patrone of the benefice hath the [Page]greater profite, and sir Iohn lacke latine not a whit the better. And when these popish priests are apprehended, some had rather wilfully weare Stories Tippet, then yéelde to the trueth. They knowe their names shall bée celebrated as the names of Saints, amongst the viperous Progenie of wicked papists. They know moreouer, that their apparell shall bee adored and woorshipped, if it may bee bought or gotten of the Papistes: their bodyes also should be holy reliques in the Pharisaicall sinagogue of Papistes, if they coulde come by them, by some secret meanes. Thus haue I briefly, and with­out prolixitie of woordes, declared the dissention and discorde of the Studentes amongst themselues. I haue written al­so of the orders of the English Semina­ry at Rome, I haue shewed howe vnna­turall y ^e Studentes be to their natural & mercifull princesse, to rayle vpon her ma­iestie in their sermons, & reuile her w ^c re­prochfull words: I haue shewed likewise howe much hurt they wish to their coun­trey, I meane Englande. For they had rather it were destroyed with fire, sword, [Page]and famine, then if shoulde continue in the trueth of Christian religion. Nowe the Christian reader may easily vnder­stande, what crueltie they would practise vpon their own Countrey men, if power and strength were correspondent to their satanicall desires. God hath weakened the might of our aduersaries, and I hope will holde it enfebled continually. Let the Popes schollers, and all other papists wishe what tyranny they list to bée vsed vpon Englande, it will not bée as they de­sire: but it wil be as it pleaseth the Lord. If persecution and miserie fall vpon Englande, it is for the sinnes of England and not for that they reiect the Popes au­thoritie, and his forged religion. This English Seminarie hath foure thousand Crownes a yéere for the maintenaunce thereof. There was great suite made vn­to the Pope, before hee woulde graunt a­nye exhibition for the maintenaunce of any number of schollers at Rome. There was an Englishe Lady that wrote vnto him about it, and many Doctours, besides other Englishmen of some worshippe and credite. Doctor Allen, the chiefest scholler [Page]of an Englishe man that is beyonde the Seas, and president of the Englishe Se­minarie at Rhemes, came a foote to Rome, and was glad within these seuen yeeres, to haue beene Thomas Beckettes Cha­pilan, and to receiue foure crownes a mo­neth, to buie him meate, drinke, and cloth. His fauour then with the Pope was very small, but yet hée coulde not gette this poore liuing, for that Doctor Morice, being a malicious, and enuious man, who vnder Cardinall Morone had the preferring of him there vnto, denied it him, partely for that he was an Eng­lishe man, and partly fearing least that by such meanes, by little and little, hée shoulde come in fauour with the Pope as well as hée.

At the first the Pope was intreated to giue exhibition for sixe schollers, second­ly hée was persuaded to maintaine four­téene, and by little and little the number is growne to thréescore. So that in Rhemes hée maintaineth fourescore, and eight. But our English Gentlemen, (as I haue hearde D. Alen report to the Rector of the Englishe Seminarie at [Page]Rome) supplieth the want of that Col­ledge with seuenscore poundes at a time.

I Haue now (Gentle Reader) put in writing the dissention and orders of the English Se­minarie, and haue written so truely whatsoe­uer I haue hearde and seene, that my aduer­saries (except they haue an impudent face) can say nothing to the contrarie. And yet I haue not written all the disorders of that Colledge, but leaue that for another time, when occasion shall better serue. In all this booke I haue fained nothing, neither emptied my gal, neither spoke I any thing of hatred or fauour to any man, God (the iudge of all men) is my witnesse. But I haue written thus much to this ende, that our cake holy Priestes may not delude the people with the false prai­ses of their fained holynesse. If proud, mali­cious, enuious, slaunderous, luxurious, and ambitious men, deserue to bee counted ver­tuous, why then, the Popes schollers are ver­tuous? For they are proude, malicious, enui­ous, &c. For when they come on the Satur­dayes to receiue their shyrts, the one saith to him that deliuereth the shyrts, come giue me a good shyrt, for a naughtie shyrt doth not [Page]become the beautie of my face very well. Ther will bee sometime such contention amongest them, who shall haue the fairest shirt, that it is a worlds wonder to see it. One saith, I am of better complexion then hee, another doth contrary him in his saying, oftentimes I haue looked two or three houres for a shyrt, and was loth to contende with any, for my beau­tie was burnt with the heat of the Sunne, or (to say as it is) I neuer had any, and passe not it I neuer shal. There was one honoredin that colledge as a saint for his beauties sake, but lo, now he is a carkase: I saw him dead, but so de­formed, that I scarse knewe him, albeit I vsed his company for a long tyme. Quid super­bis terra & cinis? Why art thou proud thou earth and ashes? The Lorde gaue thee that beauty wherein thou so much gloriest, and within one houre wil take it away at his plea­sure, and leaue thee an ougly sight to the be­holders. Repent you that are the Popes schollers, repent you of your pride, repent you of your Romish religion, repent you of your cankred malice both to Queene and Countrie, be humble, imbrace the truth, bee loyall to your Soueraigne, and loue your Countrie. God graunt you may doe so, for your owne soules health, Amen.

SEing my friend Theo­philactus is gone away from mée, to looke vnto his businesse, I thinke it necessary for my comfort and greater ease to [Page]mée in mine expences, to ioyne my selfe to the company of some trustie tra­ueller, and pilgrime which intendeth to goe to Madonna di Loreto.

As hée bethought him selfe in this wise, how to finde a faithfull friende in his iourney, loe héere hée méeteth with a wealthie rich merchant Turke, that de­termineth to goe to Ancona, a Citie not farre from Madonna di Loreto, & this man vnderstanding that Trisander wanted a companion, saith after this maner as followeth.

Your faire and cleare cōplexiō doth make manifest that you are an Englishman, your stature, be­hauiour, gesture, and apparell doth te­stifie the same: are you not? What say you?

I am an English man borne syr.

So I thought by your countenance, you were an English man, but whither are you bounding sir?

To Madonna di Loreto to sée what abuses are practised there. I [Page]pray sir let mée bée so bold with your pa­cience, as to craue your name, and the Countrie wherin you were borne: and if it may please you to haue my companie to Ancona, I shal be heartily glad therof.

I am glad I haue met you, for I trust I shall finde a trusty companion in all my iourney to Ancona, vnto the which Citie I purpose to goe. And because you aske my name, and the Countrie wherein I was borne, I tell you, my name is Merandulabasca, by byrth a Turke, and by profession a Ma­humetan.

Beare with my rudenesse Gentleman, I am loth to vse your com­pany, séeing you are no Christian.

Why sir, doe you refuse my company, for that I am no Christian? Haue you not read that Christe and his Disciples kept company with Publicans and sinners, and will not you imitate them? Accept my com­pany, I pray you, and wée will conferre together of worldly matters, and not of religion.

But howe is it that the [Page]Pope doth permit you to traffique in his Countrie, being Turkes his sworne eni­mies?

Wée pay yéerely Tribute to the Pope for his permission, to vse our merchandize in his kingdome, and for money the Pope will graunt vs whatsoeuer wée request at his handes: and as for his subiects, they are so gredie of siluer, that they sell vs their owne na­tiue Countrie men. The Inne kéepers that are rounde about the Sea side, put vp a Lanterne with light in the top of a turret, for a watchworde, vnto our coun­triemen that are in little gallies rouing néere the Sea shore, expecting their pray. Thus very often in one night, they appre hende twentie, and sometimes thirtie guestes, that neuer premeditate of the treachery of their hoast, who selleth them to our Countriemen, for such a price as hée and they can agrée. And if our coun­triemen bée taken, they are pardoned for a litle money of the Pope. Wée haue our synagogue by the Popes sufferance.

What Meran­dulabasca, what talke you of with this [Page]lustie Bentleman: and you Gentleman where were you borne?

I am an Englishman borne Syr, and Maister Merandulabas­cas talk and mine is of the Tribute of all his Countriemen that are within the Popes dominion.

That shauen Priest polleth vs of more money then his necke is worth. Hée receiueth tribute for fiue thousande of vs Iewes at Rome, and for as many at Ancona: but the more hée rateth vpon vs, the busier wée are to deceiue his Priestes: yea his Cardinals and Bishops, with our great vsurie, maintaine their Concubines so braue & gallant, that sometimes the most of his Cleargie are glad to crouch to vs, for the lone of certain summes of money, which if they want, then must they forgoe the a­miable countenance of their swéete pe­ragons, and fine minions. And they had rather bée deprined of their liuinges, then to be separated from their faire bed­fellowes. When they stande in néede of our helpes, then they begin with flat­terie, as a preparatiue medicine to mol­lifie [Page]lifie the minde: and assone as they haue receiued that which they demaund, they extoll vs for our vertuous charitie, and say that wée are sure to bée the children of God, and to bée iustified by works of cha­ritie. Wée shall haue the Popishe Priestes redie to doe any thing that we request, if we giue them money, they wil not stick to say Masse for a stolne dogge, as once it happened at Rome, Anno Dom. 1575. that Rabbi Salomon was méerily disposed, to deride the palpable error, and grosse ignorance of the whafer Priestes, in beléeuing that Christ whom his coun­triemen the Hebrwes haue crucified, is in a little whafer cake, as really as hée was on the Crosse. Therefore hée gaue to a Romish Priest two Iulies to say Masse for a Dogge, which was lost. These shauelinges will say Masse for a sicke horse, to recouer his health, if hee may haue a little money. They will doe any thing that they may perfourme, if they bée rewarded. Wée haue a licence of the Pope, to haue our Sinagogue, and such seruice, & Ceremonies as our Fore­fathers the Hebrwes vsed.

The Pope hath his king­dome héere in this world, héere is his ioy, pleasure, riches, and honour, séeing hée may not hope for the fruition of the king­dome of heauen, heauenly ioyes, celestial pleasures, and eternall happinesse. It is no maruell though hée setteth so much store by siluer and golde, the more trea­sure hée getteth, the greater his dignitie increaseth, and the larger possessiōs, and reuenewes his Bastardes are like to ob­taine.

Séeing you saide you were loth to trauell in my company as farre as Ancona, I must therefore bid you farewell, and prouide mée another companion.

Doe so, and fare you well.

Adewe courte­ous Gentleman, doe you lacke my frend­ship to the Pope in your behalfe, tell me, and you shall finde mée readie if you wil promise to recompence my paines.

Adue I say to you also, and if you wil get mée the Popes Cope, and his triple crowne, you shall doe mée [Page]a great pleasure, and I will giue you an hundred crownes for your paines.

His Cope, and triple crowne, I am sure I cannot haue, to giue you: but if you lacke his blessing, or will haue a dispensation to liue as you list, without daunger of Hell, to marry whom you will, your Cosen, your Néece, or whom you fancie best, yea if the same bée your mother in lawe, if you get a dispensation once, what sinnes soe­uer you commit, shall bee forgiuen and forgotten of God, if the Popes dispensa­tion bée true. If you haue committed murder, or any other crime as wicked: for a little money I will get you your pardon of the Pope for hée is Christe.

I had rather the Pope should curse then blesse, his dispensation and pardon can doe mée no good, the Lorde of heauen and earth is hée that can pardon mine offences, and not the Pope, who is but a lumpe of clay, to day reioysing and laughing in his sléeue, to morrowe wal­lowing in Hell, in sorrowes, paines, and torments: nowe a mightie Potentate, a worldly Monarke, a pretensed Apostle, [Page]and a stately chiefe Priest: to morrowe an abiect, forsaken of all men, wormes meate, and a stinking carkasse, whose soule shall bée carried to Hell, there to be tormented with endlesse woe, miserie, and calamitie, both for his owne sinnes, and the sinnes of others, that haue béene peruerted by him.

I perceiue by your wordes, that you regard his riches but not the power and authoritie whiche Christe your Messias hath giuen him.

Christ our Sauiour hath giuen him no such power or authority, as hée arrogantly claimeth, and fasty chal­lengeth to himselfe. Hée is an aduer­sarie to Christe, a corrupter of his word, and a persecutor of his Saints: from his tyranny, and from his idolatrous and su­perstitious religion, Good Lorde deliuer vs.

Once againe, I bid you farewell, and I thanke you for our courteous communication.

If your businesse be such that you may no longer tarry, why then adue, and I thanke you for your talke.

If I shoulde speake of the abhomi­nable practises of Rome, by way of dis­course, this little treatise shoulde growe to a huge volume,: and therefore at this time, as not hauing sufficient opportuni­tie, I surcease. I néede not to write (for that I knowe the worlde is certified of such matters alredie) of the sinnes of the Papistes. There is not one Citie of a­ny account in Italie, especially of any that I haue trauelled vnto, or could heare of, but hath a brothell house. These naugh­tie women are so voide of grace, and ho­nestie, that as men passe the stréetes, they séeke with flattering wordes to allure them to come to their chambers, they sit all day in the open stréete with their clothes lifted vp aboue their knées: how filthily and beastly they vse themselues, openly in the viewe of all men that passe that way where they bée harboured, mo­destie constraineth mée to bée silent. But by report of my Lorde Alexander Cazalis chaplins, there are at Rome. aboue twen­tie thousande harlots, whose tribute is xx. thousād pound by the yéere, which the Pope receiueth from the Courtezans of [Page]Rome. Come to the Popes courte, when you list, at morning, at euening, at mid­day, or at midnight, you shal finde Cour­tezans in one odde corner or other, with some baudie Prieste, or the Popes man. Hée that will bend himselfe, but sleightly to beholde the dealinges of the Papistes at this day, shal perceiue (euen to y ^e great horrour of his minde) the small habilitie of wel doing, that remaineth scant super­ficially rooted in the consciences of them: hée shall sée their willes so bent to euill actions, their wits so prone to vngodly inuentions, their cōsciences so loose, wide and hypocriticall, and their heartes so full of dissimulation and fraude: that a­las euen the very principles, as well pra­ctiue, as speculatiue, are quite and cleane forgotten, and the infallible doome of our conscience (which of the learned is cal­led Synteresis) holdeth no place of terror amongest them. Reasons as well su­periour, as inferiour, as well diuine as ciuill, haue no power to reclaime them. And (to conclude) euen humane mortali­tie will not, cannot, nor (I feare) shall not withdrawe them: so great is their liber­tie, [Page]so secure their liues, and so presump­tuous their heartes, thoughtes, and at­tempts. Chastitie is exiled, and whoore­dom is maintained, nourished, practised, defended, and prouoked by them. What are Nunneries, but brothell houses? what are Monasteries, but a receptacle of idle lubbers, and luxurious Epicures? liue they neuer so dissolutely, the Pope will pardon them, the Cardinals will commend them. Amongest the religi­ous men there is nullus ordo, amongest the Canons and Cardinals there is hor­ror inhabitans: goe rounde about Rome, and in euery place, thou shalt sée lecherie and buggerie, deccit and fraude in euery corner and place. Fiue thousand Iewes are suffered to haue their Iudaicall cere­monies at Rome in their Synagogue: Turkes shall liue and haue their seruice in his kingdome: but thrée or foure godly Christians or preachers, may not be permitted fréely to heare, or preach the worde of God, as the Iewes are suffered to preach against Christ, and against his holy workes. The Turke is not forbid­den to shawe the law of Alcoran, and to [Page]preach of Mahomet: the Papistes wil answere, it is better to permit y ^e Iewes and Turkes to dwell amongest them, then Heretikes that are seducers of the people. I demaunde of you Gentlemen Papistes, doe not the Iewes & Turkes, what they may, to conuert the people to their heresie? Yes no doubt, as by ex­perience I haue prooued. I knowe the cause why the Christians are not suffe­red to haue the breathing of the ayre a­mongest them. Christians would not giue the Pope so many pounds of money as the Turkes and Iewes doe, & more­ouer, hée séeth the spirite of God is mighty in operatiō with the Christians, so that if but xx. preachers were suffered to preach throughout all Italy, the people woulde soone afterwardes denie the Pope, they would doubtlesse take his crowne euen from his head, they woulde make him giue ouer his hautie title of pretensed su­premacie, and content himselfe with his owne diocesse.

BVt keeping silence, I will heere abruptly leaue the Papistes in their sinne, and [Page]with heartie prayer commit their amend­ment to the will of our God: who for Chri­stes sake, and for his holy name sake, frame their heartes to more loue of his truth, that his Gospel by them be no more hindred, nor the professours thereof hated, nor the sounde of his word stopped, nor the hearers thereof afflicted or persecuted, which he graunt for his sonnes sake Iesus, our onely mediator and aduocate, to whom be all honour, glory, po­wer, maiestie, and dominiō, for euer and euer, Amen.