A LAMENTATION IN WHICH IS showed what Ruin and destruction cometh of seditious rebellion. ANNO. M.D.XXXVI. A LAMENTATION. IF STUDY HAD gotten me as much eloquence, as true and unfeigned love of my country giveth me cause to lament: them durst I boldly say, that there is none so wicked, none so unnatural, none so far under all the senses of humanity, but I could fully persuade him, nothing so moche to be eschewed, as sedition, none so worthy all punishment, as they which traitorously make of one nation two, of them that even now were friends, suddenly to be utter enemies. But seeing mine eloquence, which I must needs grant to be very small, can not so serve me, as I desire in so weighty a matter, I will see what love, sorrow, and pity can do, which if they could as earnestly work, as they be great in me, I would trust to make all honest stomachs to detest and abhor seditious traitors. Take away the commandments of god, destroy all the laws of nature and of man, may not either the high commodities, that come of mutual concord between all the kings subjects, and the kings grace, or the exceeding damages, that ensue open sedition, keep any honest heart, in maintaining the one, and fleinge the other? But in so shameful an act, why do I speak of honest hearts? For who is he, that can think himself to have any vain of an honest man, that feareth not god, that loveth not his country, that obeyeth not his prince, that finally doth as much as he can to pull away nature, honesty, and all good laws? What is he that can say, he is an english man, and that he careth not, though the wealth of England be trodden under the foot? A beast he is, a man he can never be judged, that passeth but on his own wealth & pleasure. Alas how unworthy is he to be shaped after the form of a man, how unmeet to dwell among men, which seeth what followeth sedition, and yet will endeavour himself to stir the quiette and obedient hearts of the people to sedition? He that with himself earnestly imagineth, how moche blood must needs be shed, what a number must needs be slain, how many good towns shall be rob and spoiled, how many fermours, and honest howseholders shall be utterly undone, how many gentle men for lack of their rents shallbe fain to lay their lands to mortgage, or utterly to sell them away, how many honest women shall be defiled, how many virgins ravished: He that setteth the bloody field before his eyes, here legs, there heeds, these deadly wounded, those utterly deed, is it possible, that any man can so cast of humanity, so hate men, that he had leaver have so many deed, as needs must die in such cruel division, than to have them alive & his friends? If our most gracious prince, god save his life, and theirs that so wish, had given you some great occasiou, to have gone from him: yet to go against him and his true subjects, good cause you can have none. How can ye say, you fight in a good cause, which in one act offend so many of God's commandements? Who is he that very nature hath not taught, to be obeissant to his sovereign lord the king? Peter, Paul, Christ, finally all say, that say well, Obey thy prince. I am sorry, that Turk's heathen creatures, men cast away, if Truth say truth, I am sorry that they should so far excel us, in a thing that only pertaineth unto us, and little or nothing to them, Obedience is the badge of a true christian man. And be not we ashamed, that the Turk shall send for the greatest man's heed in his country, and bid him leave the body at home, and find them here in this so unreasonable a request obedient: and are we not ashamed, that we being demanded a little money, to come with clubs, bills, and bows, to oppress him, in whose defence we ought all to shed our best blood. Look how david, which was chosen of god to succeed Saul king of Israel, trembleth, how sorry he is, that he had cut a piece of saul's garment, which now full of iniquity sought all the ways that he could, to kill David. Look upon the circumstances, David's heart was innocent, pure, and clean, which did cut his vesture for none other intent, but to show his fidelity unto him: and to declare, that he had opportunity, and might have slain Saul, if he had listed so to do. There was no den so dark, no rock so unclymable, no mountain so high, but king Saul would up to it, and seek the death of David. another time Saul was a sleep in his tent, david cometh in, he might have killed him: what doth he? nothing but take away a spear that was at his heed, and a vessel of water, which stood beside him. This is the text. David cut the tip of the skirt of saul's cloak, and by and by he repented him, that he had cut the kings vesture, and began to cry, Our lord be merciful unto me, that I do no such thing to my sovereign lord: Our lord keep me, that I never lay hands on him, because god hath anointed him. What is he that can extend his hand toward a king, and be innocent? Reed farther. Thou shalt see, that he which said he killed Saul, and brought the crown unto David, was slain by David's commandment. Yet here is more to be marked. Saul fell on his own sword, and would in any case be deed. After this came the son of Amalachites, and feigned, that he had holp the king to die, laying for his excuse the king was half dead and more before, and desired him to rid him out of his pain. Not withstanding David thought him worthy to die, which laid no violent hands upon he king, but holp a king to die. And when David hard that Saul was dead, what lamentation maketh he? how renteth he is vestures? how fasteth he, and causeth all his to fast from morning to night? And do we think them not worthy most cruel death, that thus heinously rob and spoil the kings true subjects, and farther most bloodily bend against his highness, come with a huge and a riotous army against his captains, to the destruction of his laws and common wealth? Alas what unkindness may so kind and so loving a prince reckon in these traitors, for whose sakes and safeguard of lives, I dare well say, his grace would have shed his blood? what unnatural hearts? That they should for none or small cause run into such outrageous malice against his grace, and foolishly pretend to hate them only, which his highness best loveth? and needs must best love, as long as such their virtues, qualities, fidelity so compelleth his grace to do. Who can justly blame him for making them great, that in deed have all those things, which at the beginning of nobility only made them noble? But what marvel if such vile & abominable traitors, highly hate all those, in whom virtue shineth, which in deed can promote none but such as honesty giveth reputation unto? It far passeth cobblers craft to discuss, what lords, what bishops, what counsellors, what acts statutes and laws are most meet for a common wealth, and whose judgement should be best or worst, concerning matters of religion? Good lord, is it possible that such a number of men, should cast themself away, there where a Cobbler shallbe counted a captain? If England could speak, might it not say thus? I am one, why do you make me twain? Ye are all mine, how can any of you, where none ought so to do, seek the destruction of me, my most noble and prudent prince king HENRY the, VIII. and his true subjects? It is a shrewd hand that scratcheth out the eyen, a shrewd foot, that for his fault putttih the neck in jeopardy. Lyncolneshire thou art a member of mine, I thought if need had been, if mine enemies had infested me, to have found help and secure at thy hand: and thou thus traitorously settest upon me? when meat, which should keep the body lusty, sleeth, what marvel if hungres kill many a one? If thy weapon, which should defend thee, fight against thee, what wonder to see an other man's dagger busy with thy bosom? If Lyncolneshyre seek to destroy England, what wonder is it, if France and Scotland sometime have sought to offend me? Alas who can blame me, if I be woe, which find none (I thank the prudence of my prince and his counsellors) that seeketh my sorrow, but such as I have to long nourished and pampered up. Lincolnshire I took the for my friend, so did the king also, and I trust he will do again, if thou purged of these traitors, hereafter do as thou shalt wish thou hadst now done. Thus England might say, and much more, which I will say for her. If the fear of god, the love of the common wealth, and loyal obeisance to our most gracious prince, had moved the rest of his subjects no more than they did you, might not we have feared, lest it should have chanced unto us, as it did to them that came of the serpents teeth? The fable is not long, neither feigned without good cause. Cadmus' by the consent of the poetis, killed a great serpent, whose teeth he was commanded to sow in the ground, of the which suddenly arose harneist men, a row on the one side, another on the other, which straight fell together by the ears, in so much that they were almost deed, ere they were fully borne. The poets would declare, that where as is dissension, both the parties go to wrack. But what needeth me to use a fable, when I may confirm this thing with so many histories? first what brought down the greeks? or to begin somewhat farther, what was the cause that some time the lacedemonians were under the athenians, sometime contrary? Look the histories, you shall evermore for the most part find, that never great realm or common wealth hath been destroyed without sedition at home. Dissension dissension, hath been the ruin, the venom, the poison of all great estates. In so much that the discord of captains only, oft times put the greeks to much calamity. How oft was Athens vexed by reason of the private hatred betwixt Aristides and Themistocles, Cimon and Pericles, Nicias and Alcibiades their captains? Surely the division of Grece, that is to say, the Lacedemonyens against the athenians, the Corinthians and Thebans indifferent, friend to near neither, made the romans lords of Grece. Now what brought down the romans, which were conquerors of all the hole world well nigh? Doth not Silla, Marius, Cinna, Pompeius, and Cesar seditious citizens make almost the end of the reign of the Romans You see in other lands sedition hath been evermore the bringer in of all sorrow and mischief. Hath sedition done no hurt in England? have we had no experience before now? I would we had not, how be it I trust the kings grace will so prudently and graciously order this, that here after England shall have little fear of insurrections. Is there any in England, that hath not hard of Palm sunday filled, Black haveth field, and many other, which because they are almost forgotten, I would no body should at any time speak of them? I am of Plato's mind, I would have no histories to make mention of them, that have fought against their country. I would no sedition should be written of, no nor spoken of, I would have men believe, that there was never none so unnatural, as to rise against his prince and country. But seeing it is to far passed, and the hurt to great, to be so soon forgotten, let us take in all things some fruit. For what is so evil, but some good cometh of it? These two fields, how many widows made they, how many fatherless children, what blood they cost us, few be but they know. I let pass how all that ever came into England, to infest us, never did hurt, except we were divided. julius Cesar, the best captain that ever the Romans had, and peradventure that ever was, at his first setting upon us, did no man hurt but himself. I pray you see what opinion he had of us. Reed Paulus Orosius. where at the first he came but with lxxx ships, at his returning he came with no less than six hundred ships, furnished with piked soldiers. And as Cesar himself writeth, Mandubratius, son of the king of London, called Imanuentius, stolen out of England and followed him, being than at variance with Cassevelaunus king of Kent: And so Cesar came in helped by this sedition. O cruel sedition, O venomus hatred, O unlucky debate, O pernicious dissension, O spiteful rancour, O blind & ever hurtful envy, O seldom well ending malice, why dost thou in one hour oft times mar more, than in an hundred years can be restored again? What folly, what madness is this, to make an hole in the ship that thou sailest in? what wilful frowardness is this, to lose both thine eyes, that thine enemy may lose one? I pray god the Cobbler be chief captain. I pray god there be no polshorne peddlers, I had almost called them by their name, that put the Cobbler out of his room. Who will think, but it was great pity to put out such good religious men, that now have turned their cowls in to jacks, their portessis & beadis into bills, bows, & twenty other praty things, and come now harneist into the field, against god, their king, and both their laws? Is it not very like, that they lived virtuously in their cloisters, where they might do all mischief, and no man see them, which now in the face of the world are not ashamed to be the ryngleaders of these traitorous rebels? Is it not pity that these should lack, An halter. which will sooner undo (as far as they may) an hole country, than not have for their harlots as they have had in time past? Their pope, their puppet, their idol, their roman god will not out of their hartis. They can not abide scripture to come in place, and bear the rule of religion, as it was wont, and ever aught to do. But god shall fight for the king in this behalf: unto whom for the setting out of his most holy word, I dare boldly say, god is more bound, if god may be bound to man, than he is to all the priests, monks, friars, cardinals, and pope's that have been this five hundred years. It was no less than a learned kings act, to send the pope's bulls into their own pastures. To make of a pope a bishop, which is in deed as well both as one, well sought, neither of both: It was a princes deed to drive out him, against whose abusions no man could open his mouth, peyn of loss of goods, life, and honest fame, thank be to their tyrannous decrees, and abominable laws, which I might call lusts, but that I am understand well enough. He is gone, but to many of his livery tarrieth still. I dare say, if it be proved this sedition to come of them, they will not tarry ever. I speak never against the good, because I know not where they dwell. This I know well, the kings grace for a few good, hath suffered an abominable sort of the evil reign to long. But I will return to my purpose. If the king should ask you, as sometime the Roman ambassadors asked theirs, why they had left the Senators, and were so seditiousely departed? Have you any more to say, than they had? Nay, you have moche less. For they lacked no matter to have laid for them, but they lacked a man to utter it. I pray you, what can you say, if the kings grace lay but unkindness to you, where the law condemneth you of treason? I am sure in so great a crime, there must needs be some great occasion. Lyncolneshire bring forth your Cobbler, what can you lay for your excuse? How can you say, it is lawful, nay that it is not most abominable, thus traitorously to invade, rob, spoil, & kill the true subiectis of your most gracious & loving prince? Will you lay the putting down of abbeys for you? First why may not the kings grace by the counsel of the lords spiritual and temporal, and the commons assembled together in parliament (of the which many are among your rout) do that, that all these, and the better part of you, than thought best to be done? And what cruel and blind malice is this, to lay in one or two men's necks, as evil done, that, which was thought by the hole counsel and consent of the three estates of England, to be most to the honour of god, discharge of the king, and weal of this his realm and subjects of the same? What an inconstancy reigneth in fools? How long have you cried, monks, priests have to much? How long have we all prayed, god send the king such counsel, that one day he may see goods that were evil spent, turned into a better use? How can he turn them into better use, except he first take them away from these, that you your own self by act of parliament published, to have been misused and spent in the maintenance of vices and oppressing of virtues. first you would in any case, that the abbeys should down, that the spirituality should have less. So in deed these spiritual traitors, that are in harness against their country, call themself, which have none other spirit, than their father the devil hath inspired into them. If these be spiritual, put a cowl on Catilms back, is not he than a religious monk, and a good spiritual man? If these be religious and spiritual men, which do all that they can to destroy both the laws of god and of man, to bring this realm in desolation, why may not jacke Cade, jacke straw, Will Wawe, Wat Tyler, jacke shepherd, Tomme Myllar, and Hob Carter, a barber sent for, be shorn into religion? If they be spiritual, that consume the day either in idleness, or in an other thing worse than that, sowing seed in other men's forowes, whom shall we call carnal? It were not honest to utter all that the vysitours in their inquysitions bring home, that these holy hooded religious have themself confessed, and confirmed with the subscription of their own hands. What things can they be ashamed of, that confess such crimes, as no honest man can well rehearse, nor good man abide to here? They shall pardon my shamefastness, I am content that I lack boldness to write that which they are not ashamed to do. They have faults enough, though I lay not this to their charge. They need none to accuse them, except they change their apparel. The world hath spied them: I would scarce believe, that men could teach nature a new way, except it had been proved to their teeth, and uttered by their own selves. They that be learned, know what I mean, and what they are. Paul laid the same fault to the romans. Rom. ●. They that be unlearned will much marvel, except they have been brought up with monks and friars, how young novices may stand in stead of young wives. I have said enough. It stinketh to sore, to be stirred to much. Is it possible, that men should marvel, such to be put out of their houses, and not sooner wonder, that they be not raked in the coals? I will not aggravate things. I am glad that they have greater cause to say, that the kings grace showeth mercy, out of his place, than to think themself hardly dealt withal, which lose but their dwelling places, where they ought to lose their lives. The civil law putteth such not out of their house, but with the sword putteth them to death. And how straight the act of the parliament is, they should have found, if it had been put in execution. If the kings grace had done as the law would, and not as his most gracious nature provoketh him, could any man have said, such detestable vices to deserve less punishment. The kings grace followeth such process as god doth use lightly for the most part. God doth not punish all, that are sinners, neither the king hath punished all monks, all be not put down, that both the law, and the judgement of good men, think unworthy to stand, but such, which had neither praise of good life, nor of hospitality before they were suppressed. Wherefore I can not think, that the putting down of abbeys, that is to say, the putting away of maintained lechery, buggery, and hypocrisy, should be the cause of this rebellious insurrection. There was some other wild worm, that would not suffer mad brains to be at rest. You would fain, and have sought to find some honest colour to shadow your execrable and most cruel intended robbery, spoylynges, ravyshementes, burnings, exiling of all honest and quiet persons, and setting up of thieves, murderers, and manquellers. Think you that wise men, which have seen by all histories, the end of such seditious traitors, do not well espy, what all your intent was? What should other shires look to find at their hands, that have first undone and destroyed their own? Whom would they have spared to rob, spoil, or kill, if they had brought their purpose to pass, that now rob and slay, when they are assured that they can no while continue, neither could have continued so long, but that the kings goodness gave them this space both to acknowledge their high and detestable fault, and to declare unto all his subjects, how loath he is to shed the blood of them, that aught to love his grace best, next unto god. I am glad and sorry, that you have no better excuse, than either you have made, or any other for you. Glad that all men, which have judgement, shall think you to have done, as people is wont to do, that is, wonderful fond, & without any ground. Sorry that you should be so mad, none occasion given you, to put yourself to such rebuke, shame, and confusion. It is to foolish, that ye lay for you, that for the payment of a shilling in the pound, you would set all England by the ears. How can he be less worthy to die, than they that most deserve it, which had leaver see all England destroyed, than part from ten or twenty s. that was before freely and benevolently given and granted of yourselves? We could find in our hearts at the request of a seditious pope, Look in Froissar● the first part of his chronicle the 428. chapter. called Urban, to part from xxv hundred thousand franks at one time, which amounteth above xii hundred thousand crowns of the son, to aid and strength him against an other Roman bishop, called Clement, that challenged the Papacy, and never grudged at the matter: And now for the urgent businesses, and most needful affairs, as to the suppressing of the rebels and other enemies, that rose up in the kings land of Ireland, which business, as it was than thought by all the wise men of this realm, and as in deed we now have proved, could not be redressed and well finished, without exceeding charges, beside the great expenses, that his grace is at, upon many things, that we know, which know but little, as upon the haven at Dover, the bulwarks fortresses and buildings made for the munition and defence of his town of Calyce, of Berwyke, and of other fronters that are so grossly beneficial for the common weal of this his realm, not only in his graces time, but many years after. Now I say, for all these high and weighty causes, and many other that I reckon not, which his grace is at only for our profit, quiet, rest, and peace, we wyllnot depart from so small a some, that was (Isay again) so freely granted unto him. Every man was not charged hereunto, but such as all the wise men of the realm thought, might easily bear it. He that saith his substance is less worth than. xx.li. payeth never a penny. Alas what a detestable mind is this, to will sooner ten or twenty thousand to be slain, than to depart from ten or xx. s? Is there any honest man's arm, but it would fight alone, if it were cut of, against such pestilent and traitorous mankyllers? Is there any man so naked, but he shall think himself twice armed, that cometh to fight in such a cause, and against such rebels? Is there any that thinketh he can better bestow his best blood, than upon such murderers? you say, we have been ruled to moche. There is a pretty fable, which plutarch doth recite. There was a serpent, whose tail began to strive with the heed. The tail said, Heed, so it is, I have followed a great while, me seemeth reason, that thou shouldest follow another while. The foolish heed granted the tail to be obedient, and followed him. To be short, the tail made captain and ruler of the heed, now busteleth forth, oft times knocking himself against stones, pricking himself with thorns, and also bringing the heed evermore in peril and danger to be spylte. Should it not be much worse, if the kings grace should hear suitors, that come in harness, and being heed, apply to their requestis, that seek nothing but dissension, shedding of blood, and ruin of the hole realm? The kings grace will, as his true subjects trust, so order this matter, that here after the tail shall be content to do as the heed shall command. The king and this his realm, should be to fortunate, if these rude countries knew, as well as the noble and faithful city of London, and other civil placis of England do, how moche they be bound to love and truly serve king HENRY the . VIII. For what act since Christ's departure was more to be commended, than this example, that our most gracious prince hath given unto all foreign princes, that is, nothing to appertain more to a kings office, then to redress things of religion, to put down hypocrisy, and to restore honesty to her place again? What could he imagine more godly, than the appositions, which are now in hand, for to know who be shepherds, and who be wolves, Who be able to teach, and who be yet to learn? What commendation can be so great, but it shall seem far to small, given to a prince, that taketh such care, to see religion restored, his people now well taught, which so long hath been deluded? Sorry I must needs be, to see monks, friars, and priests, which so long stood doubting, whether they might acknowledge our sovereign lord the king to be their heed, so without any staggering, to have made a Cobbler their heed. Sorry I am to see, that such seditious traitors should cumber so honest a purpose, so godly an intent. How be it I trust, their cumbring of it, shall set it moche moor forth, than though they had endeavoured themself, with all readiness, to set it forward. Thus god when him lusteth, can make his enemies fight for him, when they think most to fight against him. I doubt not, but they shall much increase the kings honour, which have done and yet do, all that their might may, to have dishonoured him. What greater proof could his grace have had of his nobles, true and loyal people, than in such occasion to have showed themself so faithful, so trusty, so willing, and so obeisant? What would they do, if strangers camme, which against their own were so ready? I say more, the king is much bound to these traitors, that have so assured his grace of his subjects benevolence toward him. Wherefore most noble dukes, earls, lords, with all the nobility, doubt you nothing, but you have done service to a prince, that both doth consider your hearts, and will highly recompense your faithful pains. How be it what greater reward can there be of fidelity, than the joy, that an honest heart receiveth of his faythefulle doing? All be it these traitors have done much hurt, yet surely they have done the nobles of England high service. You may also be joyful, you I say, whom the kings grace ever hath taken for his true subjects, and now in very deed hath so found you. Let them be sorry that have deserved sorrow: Let us be sorry for nothing, but that these traitors shall cause the king to strive with his nature, and there to do justice, where he gladdelye would have showed himself merciful. Let not this the pernicious example of these rebels, any thing alienate our minds from the fear of god, the love of our prince. Let us recognize our duty unto both, and when both their commandments agree, study to accomplish both. Let us now in the furious rage of these seditious traitors, declare ourselves both true christian people to god, and faithful subiectis to the kings grace, not only ready to resist and pacify, but also utterly to extirp and destroy these and all other such beasts, which by any colour shall go about to stop God's word, to sow sedition between our most christian and godly king and his true and obedient servants. Keep the commandments of one, and than you shall keep both. Luc. 20. For he that said, Keep my commandements, said also, give your prince such things, as pertain unto him: if thou do not, here what he saith. Thou shalt be cursed in the city, Deu. 28. and cursed in the field: Cursed by thy berne, cursed be thy store, cursed be the fruits of thy bealye, and the fruits of thy land: The herds of thy bullocks, and the flock of thy sheep. Cursed shalt thou be, when thou gooest in, and when thou comest out. The lord shall send the hunger & thirst & cursing in all that thou takest in hand, till he have destroyed the. All these maledyctions lighteth on them, that set light God's commaundementis: And for as much as they be all made for succour & aid sooner of men, than that god hath any need of our good doings, which of all the commaundementis is more necessary for us, than this, Obey ye your king? Doing all the other, and breaking but this, how can we live one by an other? How can we lack any mischief, any sorrow, if sedition enter among us? God threatened before, now he falleth to desiring and saith, He that will keep my commandementis, I will love him, bless him, and cause all his things to increase. I will bless his children, and his children's children, his corn, his pastures, his cattelle, all his shall multiply. Who can hate him that god loveth? Or what maketh matter, if traitors hate him, that god promiseth to defend? If god be on our side, the Cobbler hath clouted evil, he hath put to much hemp in his lyngell. God is with the right part, and can not leave it. All traitors god willing, shall learn by Lyncolneshire, nothing to be more odious to god and man, than treason. ¶ God save the King.