AN INVECTIVE against the great and detestable vice, treason, wherein the secret practices, and traitorous workings of them, that suffered of late are disclosed.  
made by richard Morisyne.   

A preface to the readers.  
I DOUBT NOT gentle readers, but that if ye have been conversant in old histories, & so perceived both how many more princes have been endangered by treason of their familiar servants, then by open war of their enemies, and also seen, what end they come to, that venture upon so dangerous an enterprise, ye will think my labour not evil employed, which tendeth hole to this end, that all subjects once being brought into hatred of treason, may at the last fall in love with their duty, and seek truly to serve, where god hath appointed them so to do. For as the incommodities, that treason bringeth into a common wealth, be exceeding many, and are oft times the utter undoing of rich and wealthy realms, so, that kingdom must needs prosper and flourish, where all men strive, who may best do his duty, best serve his country in that god and his sovereign lord hath called him unto. We have had oft experience, how evil they speed, what infamy cometh to them, what end they make, which at any time attempt treason against their sovereign lord and king. These, which of late, lost their honour, lands, and lives, are not the first, that have been moved with to many benefits, to become traitors, no nor yet the first that came to shameful death, for so foul an enterprise. They have companions, which though they be not able to go cheek by cheek with them, yet they come not far behind.  
¶ Perennius, a man that had received wonderful many benefits of Commodus th'emperor, where as he saw, but one above him, thinking that he might by treason, bring him down, and set up himself, trayterousely conspired the death of Commodus, his lord and maker.  
¶ Plautianus another, of all men most bound to Severus the emperor, sought also to destroy him, not that ever he had received any injury or displeasure at his hands, but that the blind desire he had to the Empire, wrought moche more in him, than could all th'emperors benefits.  
¶ Sejanus as moche bound, as any of tother two, even upon like cause, thought to have slain Tiberius' th'emperor, his lord and master. But they came even to such end, as did the Marquis, the lord Montacute, and such other, as by their example teach all men, that be not yet weary of their lives and honesty, to be ware of treason. Certainly who so weigheth, how hard a thing it is, to enter with any man in treason, how full of jeopardies, how few there be, that a man may trust, how soon men may be deceived, taking some to bear them much greater love, than they do, how no experience can so utter one man his heart to another, that in such a case, he may leave life in his hands, he will, I suppose, moche wonder, to see any man, though the fine for it, were but the loss of goodis, so mad to venture upon treason. Many chances make treason, when it is kept most secret, to appear. An heart, that still feeleth the sting of treason, must needs at one time or an other, make the tongue and countenance partakers of his grief.  
¶ Lucilla, sister to Commodus the Emperor, had appointed one Quintianus to slay her brother. This traitor waited for the Emperor at the entering in to the Amphitheatre, and when he saw Comodus all most come to the place, where he intended to have slain him, his hand, his tongue, his gesture, his countenance, could suffer his heart to be no longer hid. No, he having his dagger ready naked, cried out, before the Emperor camme under the strooke, This the Senate sendeth the. Upon which words, he was taken, and Commodus nothing hurt.  
¶ Likewise, Marcus Antonius of Uolterra, was set to kill Laurence Medici's, and had so done, but that he cried before, o traitor, which voice saved Laurence, and disclosed as many as were of that conspiracy.  
¶ The same morning, that Brutus, and the rest of his fellows, had determined to slay julius Cesar, it so chanced, that Cesar commened a great space with Cneius Popilius, one of those that had conspired his death. Brutus and many more of his companions were buy, and were cast into such a fear, that they wist neither what to do, ne what to think. They all were afraid, lest Popilius had uttered the treason unto Cesar, and would even there have set upon him, saving that they perceived Cesar his countenance nothing moved, ne his colour any thing altered. And yet if Cesar had red the letter, that was delivered him, not half an hour before his death, he had known his enemies counsel, and might have brought them all to their confusion.  
¶ The day before, that Scevinus thought to have slain Nero, he put an old rusty dagger, that had lain long by him, to grinding. He made his testament, he made all his bond men free, he gave every one of them a certain some of money, he caused rollers to be made, to wrap wounds in, by which tokens Milichius his servant, gathered, he went about some naughty purpose, and so accused him unto the emperor. Scevinus straight confessed that his intent was to have slain Nero.  
¶ This I bring in, not so much to show that treason will out, as to make men see, how god plucketh wit and prudency from malicious traitors. He hath done so, where treason was intended against Nero, one of the worst princes, that ever the world had, and trow traitors, he will suffer Henry the eight, his chosen king, a prince that chiefly above all things, hath sought and seeketh, to set forth his glory, to restore his holy word, to put down hypocrisy, to banish idolatry, & finally to bring this one's to pass, that all his people, may be as they are called, that is true Christians? Reed this little invective that followeth, I trust by things past, ye shall perceive it, very unlike, that any traitor here after may or can hurt his highness. Ye shall see who is his graces protector, from what dangers, he hath preserved him, and thereby gather an assured affiance, that traitors can but work their own confusion, when so ever they seek to do his highness any displeasure. God hitherto hath wonderfully trodden down his grace's enemies, still showing himself to be of his side, if he be so still, as our trust is, he will be ever, be traitor who will, he knoweth his end.   

ALL BE IT I acknowledge myself neither so able as I am willing, neither so meet as I am ready to write in such a matter, as I now have taken upon me, yet trusting where my will is to do well, that though I fail of thank, I shall not miss of pardon, I can not but admonish all my country men in so plentiful an occasion, that as the benefits of god be great, strange, and almost every day cast upon us, or ere we can look for them, even so we will with thankful heart show ourselves to see and feel his godly goodness, And where as such his fatherly love is moche above our deserts, that yet we agnize it, and as much as in us lieth, endeavour ourselves abundantly to thank him for it. God is never weary of doing good to man, but when either he will not see it, or else seeing it, refuseth to thank him accordingly. Can he ask less for so many his benefits then a few barren thanks, which do pleasure only to him for this cause, that he thereby is made ready and much provoked to laade us with some new kindness, with some new benefits, with some new his gifts. He oft layeth sore to his chosen and elect people forgetfulness of his benefits toward them, commanding in sundry places, Moses, joshua, Esays, Hieremias, ezechiel, with the rest of the prophets, to rehearse his goodness showed to them, and their unkindness uttered unto him, thinking as I take it, that nothing could sooner bring them to love him, than thofte remembrance of his benefits, nothing more allure them to repentance and change of life, than the just reproach of their unthankful heart in such a throng of his gifts. I purpose not to stand long in old places of scripture, and yet I can not without some hurt of my matter let all examples alone. wherefore I will use a few in place of many. Moses called all Israel to him, 
Deut. 29.  and said in this wise to them: ye have seen what god did unto Pharaoh for your sake: what he did to Pharaoh his host, and all the rest of his servants, ye have seen many miracles, many strange wonders, and yet god hath not given you hearts to feel his goodness, eyes to see his tender love over you, ne ears to here of any of both. I have led you forty years in the wilderness, and yet your clothes are not worn: ye had neither bread ne drink, and yet to th'intent ye should remember god to be your lord, in lacking both, you were pained neither with hunger ne thirst. Sehon king of Hesbon, and Og king of Basan came with mighty power against you. They are slain, and you the lords of their lands and possessions. etc.  
God also doth expostulate with the people of Israel by his messenger Hieremias, 
Hierem. 2.  saying: What unfaithfulness found your forefathers in me, that they departing from my laws and love, follow lightness & vanity: They have not once sithence their deꝑture thought in their hearts, where have we left the lord? the lord that brought us out of the land of Egypt, the lord that led us through the wilderness, through the desert, a rough, dry, and deadly land, a land that no man had passed before, and where no man had dwelt. I brought you into a land passing full of pleasure, adorned with gay and gorgeous buildings, you enjoying the fruits and commodities thereof, went and defiled my land, and brought mine heritage to abomination. The priests themselves (they were even then as many of ours be now) said not once, where is the lord. The shepherds offend against me, the prophets do service unto Baal, and follow such things as can do them no service. Esaias in many places doth also commemorate god his benefits toward the children of Israel. God doth show himself very glad and wonderful desirous to employ his benefits upon them that seek to give him thanks for so doing: and can scarce be brought to leave such as he hath ones taken to his favour. For though their sins be great, and their offences many yet as long as he may bear with them, he sticketh not to forgive, so they be not dangerous and coy of their thanks. david lacked no sins, as all men know that travail in scripture, he lacked none: & yet he had ever one that forgave him al. And not only forgave him all, but still jaded him with new benefits. david forgottethe not this singular goodness of god toward him, he suffereth not God's love to make any end with him, he still increaseth his favour not so much by any merits, as by praising the undeserved love of god. Love not sold unto him for works, but given him, that he thereby might work. His psalms well testify, that he doth acknowledge what god did for him. He singeth oft thankful ditties unto god, as among many other, thus in the second of the kings, 
Cap. 22.  The Lord is my rock, my castle, my deliverer. God is my strength, & and in him will I trust: God is my shield, my fortress, my refuge. O my keeper, keep thou me from wrong, I will praise thee, & call upon the o lord, & so shall I be kept from mine enemies. Who so listeth to read all that followeth, may when he will, I have showed him the chapter. I must now follow present occasion, and talk a while with my country. ¶ England, hast thou no cause to follow David, to make hymns and ditties of thanks unto god? when wilt thou perceive God's love toward thee, if thou yet perceive it not? When wilt thou give him, or to use a more apt term, when wilt thou pay him thanks, if thou now deny thyself indebted to him? Thou must confess debt, thou canst not deny it, without thy great shame. There be to many witnesses for thy nay, to take any place: All nations wonder at thy felicity. All men know what jeopardies thou hast escaped, how nigh sorrows brink thou hast been brought, and strait how soon thou haste been made glad. I will not call to remembrance things past many years sins, mark but the procedings of god with the and thin these four or five years. Way well the accidents, the chances, the progress, and th'end of things, that have fortuned, and than England see, whether thou have not more causes to think that god tendereth the health, wealth, and honour of thy governor, and our dear and dread sovereign lord: than ever Israel had to think so by king David, or any other. He must be well seen in feats of arms, that shall find a place open, to wound him, whom god is buckler unto. God wool not suffer his purposes, to be altered. Man may seek to destroy, that god wool have saved, but he shall do as much, as they that seek to make strong rocks fall, with a knock of their heads. For as these labour foolishly, and do but break their own brains, so do they that think to pull down a prince, whom god hath chosen to reign over his people, both declare their folly, and also the goodness of god in preserving whom he loveth. There is none that truly serveth god, that can say, he hath been in distress, and not found succour at his hand, and yet compare them all with our most fortunate prince, they have all found him no more propences and ready to help them: then he hath been to help his highness. 
3. Reg. 19  God left not his servant Elias fleing the wroth and displeasure of jezabel, no he being without hope of life, and moche desiring to die, he sent him an angel to comfort him, and food to refresh himself withal, not content with that, but spoke to him, himself, as ye may read, if ye desire to know what god said to him. 
Daniel. 6.  Danyell was cast into a den of lions, god sent his angel to stop the lions mouth, and so Daniel was hurt in no part of his body. 
judic. 6.  God sent his angel to good Gedeon, when the Madianites had almost over thrown the children of Israel. He talketh long with Gedeon, abiding his sacrifice with many his temptations. Reed the place, ye shall perceive how god loveth, where he liketh. 
joshua. 5.  joshua also saw a man standing anent him, with a sword ready drawn in his hand, unto whom he went and said, Art thou our friend, or dost thou take the part of our adversaries? Answer was made: I am the chief of the lords band. 
judith▪ 13.  judith also had an angel to her companion and guide, when she went to slay Holofernes. I could bring in many more examples, if my purpose were to enlarge my matter that way. As how god sent his angel to conduct the host of the Israelites, when they passed the sees, and also how he sent his angel into the furnace, where the three children lay in fire, and felt no heat. I could show in what battles god hath made his angels soldiers, but that is not mine intent. I must make comparisons, and yet I trust they shall not be odious. Reed all scripture, and ye shall find no person that god preserved more tenderly, than he did his chosen and elect king David. For he being as yet no king, but rather a poor subject of a mighty king, was in many places persecuted of him and his host, and yet the goodness of god was such toward him, that he escaped all the snares that long set malice had laid for him. A puissant prince desired a poor man's death, it would not be. Mighty Saul mist of his purpose against silly David, & could not hurt his little finger. Some percase will think, here to take hold of me, and say, if god could preserve a subject against a prince it is no marvel, if he preserve a prince against a few his unnatural subjects, a realm against a few traitors. I must say as they do, it is no great marvel, that god so doth, and yet I say as I said first, our sovereign lord king Henry the eight, hath moche more cause to give God thanks, than ever had king David, or David not yet a king. For as he knew that king Saul sought his destruction, and thereby might do what lay in him, to escape his hand, and also by oft intercession, obtain help and secure of god, so the kings highness of late stood in case far unlike, and in moche more present danger than he did. His highness was in great peril, and neither saw it, ne could mistrust any such thing. For if nature, if blood, if most ample benefits, could have wrought in some, as they do in all natural and honest hearts, whom might his grace have taken for his more trusty servants, for his truer subjects, than Henry Corteney, late marquis of Exetter, than Henry Pole late lord Montacute, than Edward Nevell, late of his graces privy chamber? I will talk with the rest, when I shall come to the place, which I reserve for them. What subjects were more bound to their sovereign lord, I say much more, what men were more indebted to man, than were all these three to his highness? Who in more danger than his grace, which neither could mistrust them, ne yet without his great peril trust them. God promising aid to them that call upon him▪ seldom suffereth innocentes, as job saith, to perish. Wherefore David having cause to call for help, and God by his promise bound to secure him, could not but find god good to him. But our most fortunate king, was in most danger, and in no fear ne suspicion of lest. How could his grace suspect them, whom of all men he knew had greatest causes to love him, to desire his highness prosperity and long reign? His grace did not use them as men, whom he mistrusted, no he used more familiarness with few of his subjects, than he did with the Marquis, and sir Edward nevil. Wherefore as his grace could not are help against them, whom he took to be the readiest of all men to spend their blood, if need should require, them so to do: Even so god seeing what was in hand, thought it high time such rank and ripe traitors to be reaped up. He saw, the less his highness mistrusted the more peril his grace's person stood in, the farther they were from suspicion, the nigher they were to work mischief. Our lord be thanked, they have in one hour rid this realm of many dangers, taking their leave of life, with such shame, as it becometh all traitors to do, & as for the most part god be thanked, they are all wont to do. If laws were gone, or of no strength at all, would not men only moved by the heinousness of treason, think all deaths to few for these abominable traitors, all torments, all pain, all villainy to little for them? I am ashamed, that ever it should come into writing, that there have been among men, some, that receiving so high favour, and so great benefits, sought to make him away, of whom they received them, more ashamed, that such examples should be found among christian men, most of all, that it happeneth so oft here in our country. The civil law, is moche to be commended, that the master may call him again to bondage & servitude, whom he hath made free, if at any time after his freedom, he show himself unkind. The Macedons and Athenians also, had an action, a common plea in the law, against such as were but in trifles blotted with unkindness, as against men, that in deed are enemies to all them, which have need of other men's help. One unkind person, is oftentimes the cause, that men have no will to do good, where they may fear the like. And if it be true, that Gratitude, which is a perpetual memory of benefits received, and also a desire to recompense them, be as a mother of many virtues, forasmuch as there cometh from her, love and fear of god, love and fear of our prince, love toward our country, love toward our parents, friendship between man and man, veneration of those that bring us up, and do either nourish our bodies or instruct our minds, we must needs gather it to be true, that Cicero writeth to his friend Atticus, Ingratis vitia inesse omnia, that is, all vices to be in them, that are unkind. This vice is much better named in our tongue, than it is, as me thinketh in any other. Unkyndnesse, is a fit name for so unnatural a vice: they that fall into it, go from the kind of men, they lose that state and name, that nature put them in, and are turned into cruel & unnatural beasts. Now if unkindness be such a vice, in what hatred of all men, ought traitors to be, and traitors to their prince, and such their prince of whom they had received so innumerable benefits, and which, so many ways had declared his singular favour and love toward them?  
¶ For to come at the last, to the archetraytour, and to speak some what of him, whom god hateth, nature refuseth, all men detest, yea, and all beasts to, would abhor, if they could perceive, how moche viler he is, then is even the worst of them, what man would ever have thought, that Reynold Pole could have been by any gifts, by any promotion, by any means in this world, brought from the love, which for so many the kings high benefits, of all men, he ought his grace the most who will yet believe, that knoweth it not to be true, that a man so bound to love, can hate, so bound to serve, can breed traitors, stir sedition, intend his death, for whom he ought with all heart to have shed his best blood, reckoning the loss of his own life well spent, so that his highness might thereby be preserved, I will not say from death, but from peril and danger. How many fathers have been more tender over their sons, than hath his grace been in bringing up thee, thou false Pole, thou shameful and shameless traitor, from thy childhood, even till within these two years? What letters wrote his highness in thy favour to the venetians, at thy first going into italy? what credit, what estimation couldst thou have been in there, if thou hadst come alone without his graces commendation? what was in thee, at thy first going thither, beside thy family, worthy any great estimation? Thou mightest have come with thy birth and family, & have found few there that would have esteemed the for them, saving for his graces sake. His graces favour, whom at that time the bishop of Rome and his adherentes, honoured above all princes in Christendom, won the thy friends there, if they may be called thy friends, whom thou so takest to be, not knowing who be thy friends, and who thy foes, being thyself of all men most enemy to thyself. Thou suffered'st thyself to be called the king of England's nephew, this title being falls, wrought moche, and made many in love with the for thy nobilities sake. And yet thou gottest not so many that way, as thou didst by reason it pleased the king of his goodness to give thee, beside thine own revenues, yearly an hundredth pound out of his coffers. It is a wonderful thing to see the diversity of nature, how grate and kind 〈◊〉 be, and how unnatural and unkind some other be. Many think themself to owe life, and all the rest, to him that doth but a mean good turn for their friend, and canst not thou, receiving so many, so great benefits, thy family, thy mother, thy brethren, so many ways bound to his highness, avoid treason? Thou hast red many notable histories, that might have kept thy cankered nature, at the lest from treason, if they could a wrought no farther in the. How many slaves do we read of, that have lived with their masters in great servitude & misery, which yet so loved their masters, that they chose either to die for them, or else to die with them.  
¶ Philotimus a servant and a slave, a little before his master died, was made heir of all that he left. Mark his true stomach, thou must needs condemn thine unfaithful falls and traitorous heart. When the deed corpse was cast into the fire, he remembering what a true servant oweth to a good master, forgot, not only the goods that were bequeathed him, but also contemning his own life, leapt into the fire, thinking true service not to end where life remaineth. Here as I do not like this Philotimus to hot love, or to say as I ought, his rash death, so I doubt not but there be in England many servants, that would a thousand times hazard their life, rather than their master should be in any jeopardy of his.  
¶ Marcus Antonius being overcome of Augustus the emperor, delivered unto Eros his servant a sword, requiring to be rid, ere his enemies should take him. Eros took the sword, and quickly turning it thought it less shame, yea, less hurt, to kill himself then to kill his master. I could tarry and fill mine oration with such examples, but neither to thee, Pole, it needeth, nor to thee, such a traitor, it booteth: thou hast read them as well as I, yea thou knowest, that very dogs, unto whom their master could never give more than meat and drink, have oft died for their master, oft slain them that slew him. I will bring in an example or two, not that I think they can do the any good, but that they may set our thine abominable unkindness, to thy shame & confusion. It is notable, that authors write of king Lisymachus his dog, which never left his lord and master, but was in all huntings, in all wars, in all jeopardies at hand with him. At the last when he saw his master deed, and cast into the fire, as the manner of burial was then, the dog a great while mornefully yowling and lamenting the death of his master, cast himself even into the fire also, and there died by his master. Pliny writeth, that Hiero king of the Syracusans, had a dog, which did even the same. It is more notable, that writers leave in memory of a Romans dog, which Roman was put to death when Titus Fabinus & his family were slain. This dog would away from his master, for no stripes, for no whipping, but lay by the deed body, and still howled wonderful mornyngely, many of the Romans standing about & moche marveling at the true faith & heart that that sorry worm bare unto his inayster. At the last, when they thought the dog hungry, one of the standers by gave him meat, which he straight carried to his masters mouth, and left it there. Shortly after the body being hurled into the blood of Tiber, the dog leapt in after, and gate hold of his master, keeping him above water as long as he could. If the laws had provided no pain for treason: were not these examples enough, to make men tear such traitors, as thou art with their teeth? If men would spare thee, would not dogs pursue a beast thus overwhelmed with all kind of treason? A beast so false to his sovereign lord, and such his sovereign lord? How be it, if thou be as I surely think thou art, he is moche more thy friend, that wisheth the dead than a live. Treason can never lie alone in a traitors heart, it hath such a rabblement with it, that death is pleasure, if it be compared with the gripes, the wounds, the tossing and turmoiling, the heaving and shoving, that traitors feel in their stomachs. As god help me, I can not think, but god even of very purpose reserveth the alive, only because thy life hath many more torments, much more shame in it, than any cruel death can have. God by thy life declareth what rest thy traitorous soul shall have after the eternal shame of this world, For he that hath to dwell where thou art sure to be, except thou amend, must be exercised with such pangs as thou art, & ever in his life learn what hell hath, what entertainment they have that take up their lodging there. What greater torment can be wished unto thee, than all the world to know, that thou by these abominable treasons, haste cast away thy family, which might have continued in honour, distained thy blood, which before was mingled with a kings, and now is far under a colyers? what greater shame can come to thee, then to be the dishonour of all thy kin, a comfort to all thine enemies, a death to all thy friends? All men that love truth, allegiance, and honesty, must needs be thine enemies, all men must hate thee, yea, thy mother herself shall think herself worthy death, if she hate not the above all creatures. All they, whom petition and affinity had in time passed knit unto thee, wish for no traitors death so much as they do for thine. O Pole, o hurl pole, full of poison, that wouldest have drowned thy country in blood, thou thoughtest to have overflowed thy prince and sovereign lord, thou thoughtest with thy traitorous streams to have over rounne all together. But god be thanked, thou art now a P●le of little water, and that at a wonderful low ebb. Can I wish the any more hurt, than that thou mayst live long in such shame, in such infamy, as I think never traitor was in? I think as obstinate a wretch as thou art, if the fall of thy family nothing move thee, that yet the voice of thy country, which sometime wisheth the deed in thy first clouts, sometime hanged, sometime in hell with thy great master, the devils vicar about thy neck, were enough to make the chose a tree, and there to do as judas the capitain of traitors, whom thou trayterousely followest, did. Hast not thou much greater cause to say, as job did, than ever had job? Who ever might better say, than thou? who ought sooner to cry than thou? Cursed be that day that I was borne in, let that day perish, & the night also, in the which it was said, there is a knave child conceived. let that day be turned in to darkness, let god never regard it, let never light shine upon it: but even to the worlds end be it covered with eternal darkness. Let the dim cloud fall upon it, let it be lapped in with sorrow, let the dark storm overcome that night, let not the day that I was borne in, be reckoned among the days of the year, nor counted in the months. Let them that despise that night, and curse the day, curse also the morning that followed my birth, let it look for light and see none, because it shut not up the womb that bore me. Alas why died I not even in my birth? why did not I perish as soon as I came out of my mother's womb? why set they me upon their knees, that now do bring them all either to death, or shame, fellow to any death? Why gave they me suck with their breasts, that now have left no blood ne life in their bodies? Wherefore is light given to him that is in misery, and life to them that have heavy hartis, life to them that long for death, and search for it more than ever they did for any treasure? Thou mayst o wicked traitor say, what thou list, but thou canst think little better of thyself, than all thy country thinkith. This I know, thou hast causes more than a thousand to say all this and more to. The bishop of Rome & his godly sowers of treason, thought they had spun a wonderful fine thread, and weaved a gay piece of work, when they gate this Raynarde to play the traitor in a Cardinal's apparel, thinking, ye and knowing by their long experience, no garment so fit for one that would take such an enterprise upon him. This is a weed, that seldom growethe, where any good corn is, but it hath the overhand and destroyeth it gayely. He was made, yea marry was he, a great legate, sent with moche authority, but he returned as wise as they that thought he could have wrought miracles. The sword was sent to the king of Scotts before, we being than encumbered with sedition and rebellion at home, this gay legate rideth after, to see whether ne were able to make the king of Scots to pull it out of the sheath, and use it according to his intent that gave him the gift. was there ever beast, so maliciously set to undo his country, for the which many men have gladly died? or ever any stony heart, that so environed with a kings benefits, would let none of them enter into it? so blind, that in such a number could see none? so ungrate, that seeing so many, would be moved by none of them? What can thine enemies, which are not only all englishmen, but as many as ever knew what honesty meaneth, what can they all wish the worse, than that thou mayst never die, and ever feel that, that traitors of thy sort are sure to feel? But percase, as all our country men do detest and abhor this pestilent Cardinal, as the unnaturallest beast, that ever prince bestowed benefit on: so, few or none do know, how moche the marqueses of Exetter, and the lord Montacute, this traitors brother, were bound to the kings highness.  
first the Marquis of Exeter's father, by king Henry the vii most noble father to our most dread sovereign lord that now reigneth, was for certain treasons committed to prison, where he lay in teoperdie of loss of lands and life, until the death of the said king. And not withstanding there were great and weighty matters laid against him, yet our sovereign lord that now is, did not only pardon him of his life, and restore him to his lands and honour, but took this his son into his privy chamber, using him there much more like a companion, than a servant, always increasing his lands and revenues after such sort, that if he had not been to unnatural, he could never have loved his own life half so much, as the kings wealth & honour. A cruel change, for most love, to tender greatest hatred. O fondness, who might not have been content to serve such a master, to be subject to such a prince, yea, what man being th'one and not tother, being a subject & not a prince, would not rather desire to do his duty to so noble, so gentle, so high a prince, so loving a master, then for to take from him his majesty, yea, though he were sure to bring his traitorous purpose to effect? But what thing doth not blind ambition attempt? his mouth was ever full of these pratye sayings, I trust to see a change of this world, knaves rule about the king: but I trust one day to give them a buffet. he can be no subject, that shall buffet rulers about a king, no, he thought to be none, when he commanded Kendal his man to make as many men in a readiness as he could, which might serve within an hours warning. He thought to have worn the garland, when he told his friends, I trust to have a fair day over these knaves that rule about the king: I trust to see a merry world one day. But yet see how he was. deceived, god that hath wether at will, would not so much as give him a fair day to die in, all his mirth is ended for this world, all joy is paste, he is gone, and hath left to his son and heir nothing but sorrow, nothing but misery, except the king of his mercy bear him more love than his father did. These be the fair days that god sendeth unto traitors, this is the mirth that they come to: our lord send all traitors the like mirth. Surely they that be as these were, do but deceive themselves, if they look for any better end than they had. God punisheth none so soon as ungrate persons, because he would have us not ungrate unto him. And yet he hath evermore grievously punished such as should rebel and work sedition against their heads & rulers. Chore Dathan and Abiron, may make all men that can learn to avoid their own hurt by their neighbours, obey, where they ought to obey, serve where they ought to serve, and not to repine, ne to take upon them rule, where god hath appointed them to be ruled. You may read how god scurged these three, how the earth broke under their feet, and swallowed them up with their tabernacles & all their substance, how they went alive into hell, there testifying what punishment god hath prepared for rebels, for traitors, for men disobedient to their heads and rulers. What lost our first father Adam by his gay enterprise, which thought to have a fair day, a merry time? What lost he for once disobeinge, for theating of an apple? a small thing, but even all mankind. He was in Paradise a place pleasant, beyond all pleasures, almost all hours talking with god almighty, the eating of an apple brought him, that he durst not show his face. God crieth to him: Adam where art thou? out of what pleasure hast thou put thyself? and in to what misery? I may say, O Marquis, where art thou? where is the fair day thou lookest for? where is thy garland? Some men perchance will say, they have suffered for their trespass, they should now be at rest. I answer, things are written not so much for malice to the men, as for the hatred that every man oweth to treason. There is no writer that can set their name and fame in worse case than it is. All shame is in them, whom treason hath defiled. The ransom of treason is more than loss of life and goods. men's tongues and pens, when death hath done what she may, are bound to work against traitors as much as they may. Traitors are even still to be rated, no less then if they were a live and still in full purpose to bring their treasons to pass.  
¶ Now on the other side, was the lord Montacute nothing in the kings debt? was not also his mother's lands lost, she a poor gentle woman, dwelling among the sisters of the Zion, he a poor gentle man, not having a foot of land toward his living? was it not a thing worthy thanks, to come from nothing to iii or four thousand mark land, his mother to have this for her life, and he to inherit it after her decease? had not this traitor cause to have been a true subject to his prince, a true servant to his master? was he not bound above a great sort of men, to love the kings wealth and honour, to serve his majesty with all loyal heart and obeisance. Might not this fond or rather detestable traitor, have talked & dreamt of other things, then of the kings death, which our lord keep of, even as long as nature with his help may maintain life, and all other that would other wise, to follow Montacute and his fellows? Might not he have been content with this world, and the state he was now in, leaving his lewd prophecies of the world to come of the time that should make him & his merry, if he might tarry it? he might, if god had not been as content to leave him, as he was desireful to flee god, and to keep down his word and testament. For as god's joy is to be with men, that take joy of his presence, so being left and forsaken, though his desire be to do otherwise, he leaveth and forsaketh. This I dare say, if these men had not been enemies to the gospel, haters of God's word, they could never have fallen in to such an abominable sort of treasons. Who knoweth not how these, that are now deed, how the Marquis and Montacute abhorred not only all reading of scripture, but all so all readers of it. It was a crime judged great enough for to put any their servants out of service, if they were spied with a new testament in their hands. whether reynold that traitor, put this in their heeds, or whether god thought it best, that they had chaplains according to their hearts, men desireful to keep them still from the knowledge of their duties, from the light of god does word, which they hated above all things, I will not discuss: the saying is, they both did well their parts. As for Reinolde, I am assured, he ceased not to keep his brethren in error, which sent his mother word, that if he knew her to be of the same opinion, that the king is of, he would tread her under his feet, mother his, as she was. What beast could use such language to his mother, except he had utterly forgotten the reverence, that nature teacheth all creatures toward their parents? what pestilent heart reigneth in him, that hath such a rancour to God's word, such a stomach against the truth? Thou, thou raynold art the very pole, from whence is poured all this poison. Thou haste slain thy brother, the Marquis and thine other brother was at deaths door. But for as much as it pleased god to save Geoffrey's life, and to turn the violence of the knife to his salvation, to the safety of the kings highness, and to the wealth of the hole realm, the kings grace taketh it to be God's pleasure, that Geffrey yet die not, and hath pardoned him all his offences so that his clemency hath saved Geffrey, whom thy knavish letters and messengers had brought to the gallows. Great pity it is, so saith he, and all the rest, that ever thou sawst light. Say what thou canst, pour out thy poison, semble, dissemble, the wrath of god layeth up sorrows for thee, thou shalt never escape his hands, thy cap, thy hat wool cover treason no longer than he listeth: they will bear of but easily, when he beginneth to smite. I plainly protest, I am thine enemy, and sometime would fain here tell, that thou were served as thy demerits he: sometime I wish the to live ever, never out of shame, always in infamy, with all the rest of such companions as wait upon traitors. ¶ The bishop of Rome, great captain of errors, hath as fit a chaplain of him, as he could have picked out in an hole world. The bishop would nothing to be written against such abuses, such idolatry, such heresies as he maintaineth. Reynolde wool in no case read any thing, that doth not maintain all three, they both agree in this, to make their abode, to stick and utterly cleave in that, they sucked in, of their erroneous nurse, Long Custom.  
There be many in England, that know reynold right well, there is not one of them all, that can say and lie not, that he will either abide any writer, any preacher, or any private commoner, that swerveth from his trade.  
¶ Alexander being all his life in wars, took it to be an exceeding folly for a judge to pronounce his sentence, hearing but th'one party, and had in custom, when any tale was brought to him against any man, to stop one of his ears, saying to them that asked him what he meant by doing so, I must keep one ear for his answer, that now is accused. Pole hath red moche, which thing doth stay a man in error, and not help him out of it, if he chaw the sense of scripture, as he list, and wring out such juice, as his fantasy corrupted afore, there now seeketh. saint Paul had read moche, even when he persecuted Christis flock, and of no thing so much as of scripture. You see men could never turn his heart. God himself was fain to put to his voice, to strike his body blind, and to enlyghten there with his soul. Saint Augustine had red much, and was very conversant in the scriptures, & yet he was a great while in the heresies of the Manichees, and thought that scripture was of his side. Many disputed with him, they all found, that stubborness doth no where so much hurt, as when it lighteth upon great wits, furnished with much learning. Plato saith, small wits do never much hurt in a common weal, the great be they that do the great hurt. The bishop of Rome thought Pole both of great learning and of great parentage, so that even policy taught him a jolly point of folly. The bishop thought to work by him a feat meet for one in his place. Pole came somewhat to late into France, at the last commotion. If he had come in season, he would have played an hardy part than Ask did, he would surely have jeoparded both his eyes, where Ask ventured but one. He would have had not only a foot in their boat, but in spite of Ask and his company, would have ruled the stern. He came to late, great pite, he had not put Ask out of his office. How be it when he sent Holland with his message to Geffreye his brother, that they should not stir while he came, he thought to be at the beginning of the breakfast, to the which the Marquis was bidding still his gests. He would have brought in that merry world, which his brother Montacute still looked for, evermore afraid lest he and his should not tarry that merry tyme. Why was he afraid trow ye? he was no sick man, his years were not so many, but he mought have lived for age a great season. He feared, it would chance as it now hath done, he thought treason could not so long be kept close. O reynold, you have tarried to long for him. He may wish as many a man doth, that ye had been hanged the day before, you sent that message home. he will not stir, while you come. God put it in your head to take your voyage shortly. Thy captain and thou both, with his hole cloutry of carnals, weep I dare say yet, to remember the Northern insurrection, to here such a rage, such a fury of people, so suaged, so quieted, no stroke strooken. You fear, you fear, ye have good cause so to do, lest other princes do gather thereby, both the singular love of god toward our most godly king, and also the hatred that he beareth to your pestilent ambition, abominable lives, and doctrine much worse than your living. Certes to say as I think, it were great pity ye should live any better than ye do, except you would first agree, that god and his word might reign, and you serve your princes according to it. He that had dwelt in the stinking chanal of Paul Bishop of Rome, his bosom, or in the sink of Pole & his fellows stomachs, that day, that the news were brought to Rome, of th'end of our in the north, he should have seen them stricken in a wonderful dump, he should have seen gripping at their hearts, sighs walking to and fro, at sorrows commandment. Surely they had no mischance this many years so great, as was that our good chance, to them. There came no plague of god this long season upon them, that moved them more, then that so manifest the goodness of god showed upon us. Ah lord, thy providence is wonderful, thou blindest, thou givest light, thou hardnest, thou dost enter where thy pleasure is. Some run fast, and yet come short, because they lose the way: some tarry long, and yet be formest. thou appoyntest a time to call in thine elect, that wander, thou turnest their hearts to thee, when thy pleasure is, that strayed amongs them, which were and be farthest from the. Of all the miracles and wonders of our time, I take the change of our sovereign lords opinion in matters concerning Religion, to be even the greatest. There was no prince in Christendom, but he was far liker to have changed then our soucrayne lord, he was their pillar, and bore them up a great while: they gave him fair titles for his so doing, and honored his name in all their writingis, was it not a wonderful work of god, to get his grace from them to him? To make him their overthrow, whom they had chosen for their defensour? I have oft hidden my country men to mark the proceedings of god, sithence this change, with HENRY the VIII. his chosen lieutenant in England, and our only lord and heed under Christ and his father, I still say, as I have said, who so marketh, how tenderly god preserveth his highness, he is either exceeding blind, or else he well perceiveth god to be enemy to all them that love not his grace. Wherbefore he was called king, and yet had against all right and equity a ruler above him, which always enforced himself to keep his highness, and all the rest of his subjects in servitude, error, and idolatry. God hath made him, as all his noble progenitors of right aught to have been, a full king▪ that is, a ruler, and natruled in his own kingdom, as other were. God hath delivered his highness from the bondage of the bishop of Rome, his subjects from errors, his realm from the foul sin of idolatry. Ignorance, a child that the bishop of Rome left here, with his monks and friars to be fostered, & made strong, is taking her leave, would god her passport were made, and she sent from whence she came. But she hath been so cherished, so made of in this realm, that loath she is to depart. She hath many friends, and trusteth by the help of them to be made denizen, and so to change her apparel, and to do moche more hurt in parish churches, than ever she did in cloisters. But I trust, as god hath showed what hurt cometh of her and hers, so he will provide a way, to see, that she and hers have less to do. The people begin to know what they that be curates ought to preach, and what they arbound to follow, and yet they do but begin. Would god some were appointed to take them forth new lessons. They have long sithence begun to know their duty toward god, their obedience to their prince, the love they owe unto their neighbours, and yet they be still at the beginning. For if they were fully taught, but in these iii points, I dare promise, my life to lie upon it, the fruits of this knowledge should be such, as would enforce all christian princes, to follow the steps of our noble prince. I remember how king josaphat sent many of his nobles with preachers, that is, true setters out of the word of god, through all jury, and how all the world feared his power, after that god was preached in his king doom. I trust as our most prudent king ceaseth not to send his wholesome and godly proclamations abroad, that so one day men shall be sent after them, to see what effect they take, what success cometh of them, where they work, & where they be idle, where they have free passage, and where they be stopped. But leaving new occasions, which lead me to new purposes, I will return, and follow that I took in hand. This last sedition, beside many other commodities, that it wrought in this realm, hath made the people, and in especial those where it reigned most, very glad to here, very desireful to make amends to God and their Prince, for that they offended both afore. I have heard divers men say, that three or four preachers may do more good in the north country in two or three months, than hath been done in these south parties, these two or three years, only because the people be so ready to take what so ever the preacher shall offer unto them: so that if the people be nought still, the fault is no more theirs, for they would fain be good. They see god loveth no rebellions, no disobedience, if god had done nothing for the king, sithence that time, was not that one benefit enough, to bind his grace, and all them that love this his realm, evermore to think upon God's goodness always to give him thanks, and yet still to think thanks ungyven? All books can show, no such sedition so quieted, no such rage so peaceably assuaged, and yet at the first, as all men liked the end, so was there an other thing, that men, which favour the peace and quietness of our country, thought somewhat amiss. men were wonderful glad, that harness was put of, and weapons laid down, but they were sorry, that the deceivers of the simple & poor subiectis, had after their pestilent pilgrimages, pardon. It is oft to be remembered, how god provided both for the sort deceived, and also how upon new treason committed, he would the rank captains, to testify upon the gallows, that traitors must come to shamefulle death. And yet is there more, even concerning the same matter, to be marked. where as it pleased the king of his clemency and tender love, that his grace beareth to the life of his subjects, to satisfy the rigour of the laws, with a few of their deaths, god hath this last summer by strange kind of sickness, well declared unto the commons of the north, that he was not contented so few were punished, where so many offended. And as the sickness plagued them sore, so I think god picked a great sort in other countries, such as he knew had hearts evil enough, though their deeds were unknown. It is not to be left unspoken, that a general plague reigning in all the north, and in many other parties of the realm, London, a city for the more part yearly visited with great death, had in manner no sickness in it. Let other men lay the cause where they think best, I do surely suppose, that as god punished them for their treasons, so he showed unto the Londoners, that the way to have him merciful and good to them, is that that they are in, though not settled, yet a great part of them well entered. All be it we be forgetful, and have still need of some, to put us in mind of God's goodness toward us, yet I will not now speak of the treasure which he gave this realm, what joy and comfort he sent to all true english men, when he sent unto our sovereign lord, his dear and noble son, our dear and noble prince Edward. I trust it needeth not, I trust there be none of us, either so blind, that we see not, how much England oweth unto god, for his birth, for his preservation, for such his towardness, as was never seen in child, by all men's assent the like, either so ungrate, but he hearing of this noble princes growing, and waxing to a king, to the sceptre of this his right inheritance, will with all his heart, desire god both to keep him long from the sceptre, and longer in it than ever was his father before him. I say, I will not speak of his grace, neither of the goodness of god powered upon us, and all ours, by his birth. No, I will make as foul a change as ever ye saw or heard of. I wool go from him (whom the love to god and his father reserved) we ought to love, above all things, and entreat of them, whom, if they were alive, all englishmen ought above all creatures to hate. And yet I will not so gladly talk of them, as of the goodness of god showed to us by their occasion. ¶ O lord, in what danger hath the kings highness been, these xiii. or xiiii years? For even all this space, there have been in his graces privy chamber, that from time to time have not only uttered the secrets of his counsel and chamber, but also have practised with his most enemies, and done what they could to hinder his graces godly proceedings? Was it not a singular providence of god, that the Marquis of Exettour, was put out of the privy chamber, upon no desert, I think at that time known, but even that god put it in the kings heed so to do? Is it not to be marveled, that he and Edward nevil, a couple worthy all men's hatred, a couple joined in traitorous intentes, being so long together about his highness own person, did no more hurt? Is it not more marvel, that th'one being put out of the privy chamber, tother attempted nothing? Men that know not the goodness of god toward his elect rulers, may marvel at all these things, but let us laud god for them all, & assure ourselves, that god will not suffer a prince, whom he hath chosen, to greater affairs, than gross heeds can attain unto, to be violated of his traitorous subjects. God hath joined with the majesty of a king, such a fear, that false hearts have no power, to offer wrong to a prince, though all opportunities seem to serve them: wherefore if we list to marvel, let us a little while entreat of the disclosing of these treasons.  
Sir Geoffrey Pole was committed to the tower, neither the kings highness, nor any of the counsel suspecting either the Marquis, either the lord Montacute his brother, or sir Edward nevil, of any of all these things, that they were found guilty of. Geffrey being in the tower, having his breast full of witnesses against himself, against his brethren, against the Marquis, was brought into such a throng of thoughts, into such a conflict of pensiers, that blood and nature, working on th'one side, god & conscience on tother, he was carried into such a perplexity, that he could, neither condescend to accuse his brother, his cousin sir Edward nevil, and himself, chief of all, endangering all four, with the guilt of treason, nor yet utterly withstand, the working of god and his conscience, within him: which oft put in his mind, rather to suffer them and himself to, bodily to be brought to death, then to go body and soul to the devil. This motion ran oft in his heed, but the devil, continual adversary to God's honour and man's wealth, put in his foot, and so toast this wretched soul, that of many evils, he chose even the worst of all, which was a full purpose, to slay himself. The commodities of his death were many, as the devil made them to the show, his brother should live still, their family continue in honour, the lord Marques should have great cause to love all his blood, which had killed himself to save him, with many such fantasies, as desperate men find, to help them to their end. He was fully persuaded to slay himself. Desperation had wrought her feat, now see how opportunity made all things ready for him, his keeper was absent, a knife at hand upon the table, he riseth out of his bed, & taketh the knife, and with full intent to die, gave himself a stab with the knife upon the breast. The devil lacketh strength, where god hath any thing to do, and can better begin things, then bring them to effect. The devil had played his part, now see how god, as he oft doth, turned all the devils hole work, to his glory, and Geoffrey's salvation. The knife was blunt, and so did pierce: but the wound as god would, was not mortal, and yet for as much as blood came after the wound, Geffrey began at the last, to fear god, to fear hell, to remember into what case the devil had brought him, and then began to detest the slaughter of himself, to wish he had opened all together, rather than to have lost his body and soul after that sort. He now began to cast, which way he mought appease the wroth & vengeance of god, ready as he thought to hurl him in to hell. He now cast his count after another sort, dread of death which as he thought would have followed the wound, began to teach him a new lesson, his brother, his cozen, sir Edward Nevylle, now weighed as much with him as they ought to do, he saw before him the loss of his soul, and thought it much better, they lost their heads: he saw in what danger he should leave his sovereign lord, whose benefits, began now to muster before him, and the vele of malice laid aside, to turn his heart: he saw the damages, the slaughters, that might come to his country: he saw it not possible, that god should be any thing good to him, which should conceal the destruction of so many. In so much that now he, which would have died, to save his brethren and cousin, desired life, for no cause so moche, as that he might bring them to that they had deserved: and thereupon of his own mind, no man requiring him to it, no man thinking of any such thing, he desired to speak with the lieutenant of the tour, and after to speak with some of the kings privy counsel, to whom when they came, he as a man still looking when the wound should have ended his life, disclosed all the hole treasons. Thus the devils subtle provision of the knife, of his being alone, of persuading him to abuse the knife to his destruction, utterly deceived the devil, all his gins, all his crafts, now being turned against him self all the hurt that might have come to his adversaries, god and those that love and seek his glory, now redounding upon his own heed, will ye have a sure token, that this is the work of god? ye have herd of the message, which Reynold sent to his brethren, that is, that they in no wise should stir until his coming. ye may know, who was author of so godly a message. Who but the devil, author of all dissension, all rebellion, all treason, could be either of counsel with him that sent such a message, or with them that would keep it secret. If he were th'author of it, than could he not be the utterer of it also: his kingdom must needs fall, if he fight against himself. God, god brought it to light, as one that hath taken upon him to defend his true and faithful minister, king Henry the eight. God hath disclosed all, using such ways, that all men may know, it is only he, that could do such a thing. A man would think it unpossible, that where no force, no violence, no torments are used, flesh, blood, and nature could suffer one brother to bring the other to his death. Some will say, he lacked no torments, as long as he had treason waltering in his heart. A traitor whether he be so taken or not, can lack no scourging, when he is most alone. He hath his whip in his bosom, and playeth the tormentor himself for lack of an officer. I will not say, but Geffrey Pole, felt such torments, no I must needs grant, he was shrewdly scourged, that thought it an ease to rid himself of it by death.  
They be of like no small pains, that make the patient glad to slay his body, and damn his soul for the arrydance of them. But yet as I said, he had no outward torments, no racking, no manacles, no he was put in fere of none of all these peines, but enforced by god, as I take it, and as he himself said at the bar it was, frankly uttered, not only against his brother and cousin, but against such, as when they came to the bar, granted he guilty, without any verdict of quest. But of these last, I will nothing speak, all be it I take them to be as worthy eternal infamy as the first, but great men of birth, because blood is distained by treason, & their family taken from them, are those that aught to be set forth in their colours. It is I say again, a wonder to see, one brother bring an other (moche love being between them, and no cause of hatred) to his death. It were a wonder surely, if one had not taken the matter in hand, which can when him lust, both vanquish nature, and tread the devil with his hole power under his feet. They two kept those treasons under lock and key. God is and ever hath been lord of nature, conqueror of the devil, and can compel both when him lusteth, to set forth his glory. But now, where we see, whose goodness it is, that treasons are known, and traitors made away, let us not forget to give him thanks, that thus waketh, and in manner waiteth, to save us harmless. Is it possible, that a man not forced, should swear upon a book, himself to be a traitor, himself of all men to be most worthy death. Sir Geffrey hath oft taken this oath, So hath Croftes and Colyns also: the other, all the time of their arraignment, stood stiff, with casting up of eyes and hands, as though those things had been never herd of before, that then were laid to their charge. The Marquis, of all the rest stack hardest, and made as though he had been very clear in many points, yet in some he staggered, and was very sorry so to do, now chalanging the kings pardon, now taking benefit of the act, and when all would not serve, he began to charge Geffrey Pole with frenzy, with folly, and madness. It is moche to be noted, what answer Geffrey made to the Marquis in this point. Some men, saith Geffreye (as I here) lay to my charge, that I should be out of my wit, and in a frenzy. Troth it is, I was out of my wit, and in a great frenzy, when I fell with them in conference, to be a traitor, disobedient to god, false to my prince, and enemy to my native country. I was also out of my wit, and stricken with a sore kind of madness, when I chose rather to kill myself, than to charge them with such treasons, as I knew would cost them their lives, if I did utter them. But our lord be thanked, god wrought better with me, than I thought to have done with myself. He hath saved my soul at the lest. the knife went not so far as I would have had it gone: his goodness it is, that I have not slain myself: his mercy, that I was delivered from that frenzy of killing myself: his work, that I have declared myself, my brother, the Marquis, with the rest, to be traitors. And where I thought, said Geffrey, rather to have put my soul in hazard, for the saving of these men, god I thank him, so wrought in me, and so changed my mind, that if I had had ten brothern, yea ten sons, I would rather bring them all to this peril of death, than leave my country, my sovereign lord, and mine own soul in such danger, as they all three stood in, if I had kept these treasons secret. Let us, let us die, we be but a few, better we have according to our deserts, than our hole country to be brought to ruin. O what a lord is god, whom can a traitor trust, when one brother is so desireful to utter an others treason? yea when the traitor himself, no man compelling him, uttreth his own treason? whom may we trust, when we ourselves, desire to disclose ourselves? Treason can not lie longer hid, than while it ripeth, for if it be ones melowe, the savour straight, for the most part, bewrayeth the howrde. Geffrey hath never been taken for any pleasant or sage talker, his wit was wont to serve his tongue but so so. I dare say, they that were the wisest of the kings most honourable counsel, did much wonder that day, to hear him tell his tale, and looked for nothing less, than that he should have so handled himself. God is a marvelous god, he can make both when him lust, and whom he will eloquent, wise, pithy. He can make the tongues of the dumb serve his elect, when his will is. The Marquis was stiff at the bar, and stood fast in denial of most things laid to his charge, yet in some he foiled and staggerde, in such sort, that all men might see his countenance, to avouch that, that his tongue could not without moche faltering deny. But at the scaffold, when he saw, men's oaths, with a multitude of witnesses taken, and his sturdy denial not to save his life, he began either to way dishonour less than he did at the bar, or else to think, that dishonour standeth in doing traitorously, rather than in confessing of it, when it is known to be so, death at hand, taught him and his fellows, to provide for the safety of their souls, and to leave the regard of honour there on the scaffold with their bodies. They did all three acknowledge their offences toward the king, and desired all men that were there present, to pray god to forgive them. They be gone, our lord I trust, which gave them repentance, will also take them to his mercy, and yet save their souls. The thing they feared, is come upon them, they might not tarry the time, they ploughed treason, they sowed sedition, no marvel if they reap death. Wherefore let us, which in one hour, have escaped so many sorrows, so present calamities, so imminente mischiefs, say as judith said, when she returned▪ with Holofernes his heed in her lap, Laude and praise be given to the lord, that forsakest not them that put their trust in the. Let him be glorified for ever of us, that uncalled is thus priest and ready to defend them that were nigh the brink of perdition, and saw it not, until he plucked them by the sleeve. Hitherto ye have hard, how traitorously these unnatural traitors intended, you have seen how the goodness of god, as well now, as in many other things, hath preserved the kings highness, & brought his enemies to shameful death, now this thing remaineth alone, what cause could move them, that were so much bound to their lord and master, to fall into such horrible treasons. He liveth not I dare say that can find any just cause for any subject to be a traitor to his sovereign lord. And I am well assured, all men that have any spot of honesty in them, will think these worthy to be taken for traitors, if they had but ones thought hurt unto his person, of whom they had received so many benefits. There is no cause, & yet me thinketh I find one, which although it be not just, yet is it of such strength and efficacy, that it can work almost no less than it did in these. I say and think, who so ever is of their opinion in matters of religion, that he can love the kings highness, no better than they did▪ who s●● is a papist, an enemy to God's word, he may well lack power, or stomach, to utter treason, but he can not lack a traitorous heart. what so ever he be, that thinketh the bishop of Rome supreme head of our church of England, can never bear the king such an heart, as a true subject oweth his sovereign lord. No, I say more, he can in no case love his highness, he can not chose but be a traitor. It is to be sorrowed and lamented greatly, that noble men will thus fondly cast themselves away, great wonder, greater pity, and greatest shame, that they, having the word of god in their own tongue, will not yet learn, what a king is, and what a bishop, what lords own unto th'one, and what they may require of tother. My purpose was to have handled a good sort of places, which I have gathered out of the scripture, & doctors both, making for the maintenance of the kings supremity, and also shaking down that arrogant and usurped power of the bishop of Rome. I had so done, but that I saw this book, some what with the longest, and well perceived, that tother would have been much longer, than this is. I have differred it for a while, but god willing, I will as soon as I can, for the service I own unto nobility, and the rest my country men, follow that which god will prick me to, though feeble wit and weak power draw never so fast back. In the mean season, I humbly beseech all men, so to take these my labours, that I may with courage set upon tother, which as they will be moche greater, so my trust is, they shall be moche more profitable. They may so be, and shall so be, if it please him, which worketh all that well is wrought, unto whom be all honour, all glory, for ever and ever. Amen.   

Londini in aedibus Thomae Bertheleti typis impress. Cum privilegio ad imprimendum solum.  
ANNO. M.D.XXXIX.