¶ Of the ends and deaths of two Prisoners/ lately pressed to death in Newgate. 1569.  

TRue Preachers which God liketh well,  
To you I run with all my heart,  
Your words with me are like to dwell,  
Until this life I shall departed.  
As for the rest whose tongues are tied,  
To them who runs, he runs far wide.   

¶ What so doth best commend the truth,  
All falsehood likewise discommendes,  
I know you Preachers tender youth,  
And visits them like faithful friends.  
Yet if there hap a dismal day,  
The Wolves would tear your lives away   

¶ But they that humbly do you bear,  
And eke well bear your words away,  
Having their understandings clear,  
Needs never fear the dismal day.  
Nor will seek● peace here in this life,  
Where nought is found but war and strife.   

¶ So they that do, nor yet will bear,  
When they be called, and truth is told,  
Ill haps to them unwares is near,  
Yet blindness maketh bayards bold.  
But they that warned are in time,  
Half armed are 'gainst dangerous crime.   

¶ A trial just I found of late,  
Where Preachers did themselves address,  
To spend the day within Newgate,  
To comfort two whom Law bade press.  
There did I see that comfort great,  
Whereof our Preachers oft entreat.   

¶ There saw I more, do what they might,  
Sharp judgement pass, the Press at hand,  
The one would not remit his spite  
But doth the same to understand,  
By blasphemies most horrible,  
And countenance most terrible.   

¶ 〈◊〉 would believe that he should die,  
Which plainly did to us appear,  
By ●●yish countenance smilingly,  
Which seemed very monstrous gear.  
And yet he was of perfect mind,  
But thus he showed his devilish kind.   

¶ With him persuasions would not serve,  
In all my life I saw none such:  
He swore great oaths he would not starve,  
If ought there were within the hutch.  
And to it he went full eagerly,  
As one that thought he should not die.   

¶ Anon there came a prisoner in,  
That irons had clapped on good store.  
God's heart quoth Wat, you will not lyn,  
These parts you played like slaves before.  
And up he snatch hot coals in hand,  
To throw at one that by did stand.   

¶ This slander by a Keeper was,  
That hardly handled him always:  
Wherefore if he might bring to pass,  
That Keeper should now end his days.  
Though he did burn in hell therefore.  
Such Keepers should keep there no more.   

¶ This desperate fool entreated was,  
By Master Young and others there,  
To pray for them that did trespass,  
And to forgive, sith death is near.  
God's wounds quoth he, it is shame for ye,  
That cry not against this tyranny.   

¶ Why will not bolts or fetters serve,  
Think you (quoth Wat) to hold this man?  
He hath no money though he starve,  
His hos● and doublet must trudge then.  
If bell there be, or plagues to fall,  
These Villains will be plagued all.   

¶ For my part if I boil in lead,  
I cannot hold but brawl this out.  
Would I might ●ight how ever I sped,  
Chuld coarse that Ore and fl●●ring Lout.  
No more good Wat, quoth Master Young,  
Thou hurt●… thyself most with that tongue.   

¶ Thus parted he and Master Young,  
Much grieved for his senseless soul.  
But I remained and used my tongue,  
As God did force vice to control,  
But-Wat no changeling would not rest,  
But fell a fresh unto a ●est.   

¶ As I might then I did exhort,  
Them both with me to go and pray,  
Where I would speak to their comfort,  
If that the Lord did not say nay.  
The time is short, therefore quoth I,  
Let us seek the Lord whiles he is nigh.   

¶ I pray you be content quoth Wat,  
The Lord hath mercy enough in store,  
I may yet have my part of that,  
As he to others hath given before.  
You must repent and call for grace,  
(Quoth I) else never look to see God's face.   

¶ Then was the other glad of me,  
And gave to God great thanks and praise,  
That he might have my company,  
With him for to remain always.  
Wherein such comfort great he found,  
That tears of joy dropped to the ground.   

¶ I see now God is good (quoth he)  
And will not have my soul be lost,  
But hath provided you for me,  
Not sparing any pain nor cost.  
You come from God, your words arswete,  
I feel God's grace my heart doth mete.   

¶ I would I had known you befor●…e,  
But now it is in right good time:  
For though my carcase be forlorn,  
My soul to God I feel doth climb.  
Oh bear me (saith he) to the rest,  
Ill haps to me is for the best.   

¶ Hear how this misery hath wrought,  
The taming of my flesh so proud:  
My soul to God that hath it bought,  
I do commend with voice so loud.  
Knowing that he doth hear my cry,  
And pardons me immediately,   

¶ Would God the world did hear my voice  
And would be warned by my death,  
Then would they not in evil rejoice,  
But praise the Lord whiles they have breath.  
And love him that hath loved them well,  
Who hath redeemed their souls from hell.   

¶ O God (quoth he) is this thy kind,  
To care for him that knew not thee?  
I never had thee erst in mind,  
Yet now thy grace hath healed me.  
Due thanks to thee I cannot give,  
That hast now made me to believe.   

¶ O tell me I pray, what is your name,  
Saith he to me unknown you are:  
To you likewise I am the same,  
But God that knows us is not far.  
He will reward you this I trust,  
Sith I cannot that die needs must.   

¶ So God dealt with me yester day,  
A friend be sent us in Limbo:  
Whose good estate God bless always,  
For that good ●ore that came him fro.  
His name was Draper Alderman,  
Which was my comfort great as than.   

¶ He prayed with us most earnestly,  
No scorn was in his velvet cote,  
With tears he kissed us lovingly,  
And went with mourning there God wot.  
So doth the power of the Lord,  
Make divers men in truth accord.   

¶ Thus God hath found me out at length,  
And stayed me of my wicked race  
And me indu●● with perfect strength  
No ●ong can rightly praise such grace  
I would my death were much more vile  
That others might beware their while.   

¶ So than we prayed each one for other  
With trickling tears of joy and grief  
In truth I took him for my brother  
Though never so much he were a thief.  
Then death to him could not come ill,  
For of God's grace he had his fill.   

¶ Then forth we went and made a fire,  
I dined there with bread and cheese:  
To sing some Psalms was his desire,  
So each man soonge in their degrees.  
O Lord turn not away thy face,  
From him that lies prostrate in place.   

¶ But Watson fell unto his food  
As one that hungry was in deed  
And merely eat that he thought good,  
But threw the rest the dogs to feed.  
I saw no thought that he did take,  
Nor likelihood from sin to wake.   

¶ Then up came Master Young again  
Their deaths now being at the door  
But Watson could not yet refrain,  
But laughs it out still more and more.  
Still all in vain to him was said,  
Yet all the rest down kneeling prayed.   

¶ Then Scarlet took him by the hand  
And preached, though small to his regard  
Yet all the rest might understand,  
His words deserved to be hard.  
And yet he could not ●olde but smiles,  
In deed he was beguiled therewhiles.   

¶ A Prisoner's tale that he did trust  
Made him that way to lose his life  
So there the matter was discussed,  
The press at length did end their strife.  
He trusted that which was untrue,  
Until it was to late to rue.   

¶ Lo thus much I thought good to write  
For those that warned yet will be  
That they in evil no more delight,  
Nor to such council do agree.  
Who did this ill one so pervert,  
That heavy press burst watson's heart.    

¶ Imprinted at London by john Awdely, dwelling in little Britain street without Aldersgate.