THE true subject TO THE rebel.  
OR THE hurt OF SEDITION, HOW grievous IT IS to a commonwealth.  
Written By Sir John Cheek Knight (Tutor and privy-chancellor to King EDWARD the sixt) 1549.  
Whereunto is newly added by way of Preface a brief discourse of those times, as they may relate to the present, with the author's life.  
OXFORD, Printed by LEONARD LICHFIELD, Printer to the university. Anno Dom. 1641.   

THE PREFACE.  
THis Discourse of the Hurt of Sedition, was not intended by the Author as a Prophecy for any future times, but merely occasioned by the sad story of those present distractions, wherein he had no part but as a Spectator. If it be now thought any way liable to an application, that must be imputed to the common fate of human affairs, quibus inest quidam velut orbis: & quemadmodum temporum vices, ita morum vertuntur. For upon this common Stage of the world, though the Actors change daily, & have their last Exits after which they return no more; yet there is a continual recurrence of the same Pageants, parts and humours to be represented by other persons, Vitia erunt donec homines. covetousness and ambition, and such active vices are seldom off the Theatre, though they do as seldom appear there in their own faces, but with the borrowed masks of public good, the honour or peace of the State, the propagation or reformation of Religion. Privatae causae pietatis aguntur obtentu, & cupiditatum quisque suarum religionem veluti pedissequam habet. The meanest capacities are not unskilled in these ordinary artifices: consult the story of those times under EDWARD the VI. and you shall meet with insolent demands from some rebellious subjects against the form of religion then established by Act of Parliament: others you shall find sitting under their oak of Reformation upon the life and death of all civility and learning. Against both which our Author directs his reasons. This contagion was so spreading, that I find twelve several shires infected with it, and almost forty thousand persons, a great number, but yet no army. They had all the advantages which they could desire except a good cause, and an able Leader. They met with a young Prince, in the beginning of his reign; with a late and great alteration in religion, which was never observed to go alone; with a many secret jealousies and envyings in the Nobilitle, which after burst out into open defiance; with a general aptness to mutiny in the vulgar, who had been formerly Tenants to religious houses, and complained now as well of new Lords as now laws; with an universal stupor & lethargy in most men of the long Robe, which were lately frighted out of a great part of their wits as well as their means: many of them so unable to instruct others, that it seems they had scarce ordinary discretion to govern themselves. The very Universities, which had been the glory, were now become the scorn or pity of the kingdom; their Libraries robbed and spoiled either by pretended authority, or connivance; their liberties and privileges invaded and borne down by the prevailing parties, the townsmen of Oxford and Cambridge. Much of their present maintenance, and the main hopes of their future preferment taken from them: at least in their opinion, when they saw most or all the revenues of their colleges given to the King; some bishoprics actually dissolved, & the whole jurisdiction inclining to a ruin. This did strike them with such a panic fear as did justly deter parents from bestowing upon their children that ingenuous education which was attended with so great charges and so small hopes. And such as were already entered upon that way, were forced to quit their professions & betake themselves to another kind of life. Insomuch that I find one house of learning in Cambridge pitifully complaining, that the great dearth of things, and the little charity of men had driven away more good wits from that one college than were left in the whole university. The words are part of a Letter from St John's college to the Duke of Somerset Lord Protector. In which there are so many other things considerable, that I cannot forbear to trespass so far upon the Readers patience, as to exhibit some what more to the same purpose. Having represented to his honour two other domestic calamities peculiar to that House, they descend to a third, of which they say, Diu nos pressit, in miram angustiam compegit, & in extremam conditionem non nos solùm sed reliquos omnes studiosos detrusit. Quae illa est? Durissima caritas omnium rerum vendibilium. Augetur pretium omnium, pecunia nostra non augetur. Quomodo olim duodecim denarris, nunc non licet vivere viginti. Qui authores sunt tantae miseriae? Dicemus, & domino monente ac demonstrante dicemus. Suntilli qui domum ad domum conjungunt, qui rapinas pauperum congerunt, qui fructum eorum rarissimè comedunt. Haec dicit Dominus per Esaiam Prophetam, nos apertiùs loquemur. Sunt illi, qui hodie passim in Anglia praedia Monasteriorum gravissimis annuis reditibus auxerunt. Hinc omnium rerum exauctum pretium: hi homines expilant totam Rempublicam. Villici & coloni universi laborant, parcunt, corradunt, ut istis satisfaciant: hinc singuli coguntur singulis imponere, & universa Respub. gravissime premitur. Hinc tot Familiae dissipatae, tot Domus collapsae, tot communes mensae aut jam nullae aut in angulos & latebras conclusae. Hinc (quod omnium miserrimum est) nobile illud decus & robur Angliae, nomen inquam Yomannorum Anglorum fractum & collisum est. Et haec etiam miseria maximè redundat in authores ejusdem. Quotusquisque enim est Mercatorum Londinensium, (hi homines hanc miseriam mirificè concitârunt) qui non angustiùs, tenuiùs, & pressiùs his temporibus vivit, quàm cùm passi sunt alios homines vivere? In nullam partem Reipub: majori impetu invasit hoc malum quàm in rem literariam: reliqui homines ita liberi sunt ut possint quaerere sibi vitam; studiosi non quaerunt, sed quaesitam recipiunt: quae si augetur, hoc fit non operâ illorum, sed bonitate aliorum. Postremò, debet pecunia nostra, aut major esle, quod cupimus; aut caritas rerum minor esle, quod per Te fore speramus; aut fructus studiorum minimus erit, quod maximè omnium metuimus. Haec tanta caritas rerum & haec nulla Charitas hominum intra hos paucos annos expulit ex hoc uno Collegio plura optima ingenia, quàm nunc sunt perfectè docti viri in tota Academia: nec solùm expellit praesentes, sed aufert unà etiam universam absentium spem. This & much more to this purpose, from that learned college. And the whole Vniverfity in their many public letters to most of the Nobility then in Parliament do run much upon this strain. I shall give a taste of one or two. First to the Lord marquess of Northampton, whom they desire to be a means that learning may berestored to her ancient honour, and good wits allured to it by some new hopes. And proceed thus, In hoc parliamento (nisi valde fallimur) veram Religionem restituetis. Divinum profectò consilium, & nosunà Deum rogamus omnes, ut ne vestigium quidem Papisticae faecis in ulla parte Religionis, quaecunque illa fuerit, ampliùs resideat. Sed ignorantia quid? tolletur ex omni populo. Quorum industriâ? doctorum. At ubi sunt? in Academiis. At quot requiruntur ad ignorantiam ex Anglia relegandam polliceri quidem nos non audemus. At plures quotidiè illuc confluent. Quâ spe? honore artium? nullus fere est. Expectatione praemiorum? sed illa & rara sunt & exigua sunt. Nomine & honestate literarum? Quo loco nunc jacent literae vel ignari omnium literarum facilè animadvertunt. Et qui posthac docti erunt? pauperes? At hic non diù manent propter inopiam. Sed divitum filij? at hi minùs, vel propter alterius vitae expectationem, vel literarum his temporibus obscuram conditionem. Said parents ut filij sui instituantur literis semper curabunt. Ast hi spe lucri magis, quae jam sublata est, quàm doctrinae cupiditate, quae in illis nulla est, hoc fecerant. Ast boni viri inopiam studiosorum levabunt. Hoc olim factum est. Sed nunc prioris seculi felicitatem potiùs admirari, quàm hac spe studiosorum vitam alere & sustentare possumus. Quorsum tot Scholae in Anglia, siad Academias paucisese conferunt? I more aut paucae sunt, aut relictae & contemptae sunt: & parents hodiè cuivis rei potiùs quàm literis liberos suos addicunt. Sed Respub: huic rei remedium adferet. Digna certèrea in qua totum occupetur Parliamentum: nisi enim haec semina doctrinae teneris animis tempestiuè sparsa fuerint, quaenam in Repub: vel exoriatur spes, vel a dolescat virtus, vel efflorescat pura Religio & vera felicitas, prudentia Tua intelligit. Multa ad hunc modum verissimè dici possint de labenti jam & admodum proclivi ad occasum literarum dignitate (Nobiliss. Marchio:) quae res quantum in se veri habet tantum adjumenti à Te requirit ad maturum illi adferendum remedium. Hoc dabis Religioni & Reipublicae: hoc dabis multorum parentum sollicitae spei, multorum ingeniorum praeclarae indoli: dabis hoc etiam saluti posterorum temporum, in quibus nullus doctrinae fructus exoriri potest, cujus sementis superioribus temporibus facta non fuerit. Dabis his omnibus quantum vis, vis certè tantum quantum literis, hoc est, summis & verae Religionis praesidiis, & florentis Reipublicae ornamentis dari debere prudentia Tua judicabit. In another of their letters to St Anthony Denny, one of the privy council, where they plead the same cause with as much eloquence as earnestness, they desire him to consider that it is not their own particular, but the common cause of all posterity, & the whole State; and that he and all others in authority, would be careful to distinguish betwixt some obuoxious persons, & the whole commonwealth of learning, ne ea ratio quae ignorantiam malorum Sacerdotum justissimè puniat, optimorum etiam ingeniorum spem à studiis literarum unà auferat. Hoc remedium non malos ad sanitatem adduceret, sed bonos ad desperationem adigeret. Thus much for the miseries or fears of the university of Cambridge in those times. Nor was that of Oxford in any better condition. I find an ample commission granted to the Earl of Warwick, and eight more, any seven, six, five, four, three, two, or one of them, to visit in capite & membris the whole Diocese, but especially the Vniverfity of Oxford. What other effects that Visitation had, does not well appear, but ('tis said) Richard Cox, who was one of them, did so clearly purge the vniversity-library of all Monuments of superstition, that he left not one book in it of all those goodly Manuscripts, of which by the munificence of several Benefactors, that place was very amply furnished: Especially by Richard Aungervyle Bishop of Durham, Thomas Cobham Bishop of Worcester, Humphrey the good Duke of Gloucester, John Whethamsted Abbot of S. Albans, John Tipetoft Earl of Worcester, and divers others. Such errors or rather impieties were committed by some in this kind, that John Bale, a man sufficiently averse from the least shadow of Popery, and one that hated all Monkery with a perfect hatred, yet could not but complain to King EDWARD the sixt, & dolorously lament so great an oversight in the most lawful overthrow of abbeys and friaries. Covetousness was at that time so busy about private commodity that public wealth in that most necessary and godly respect was not anywhere regarded. A great number of them which purchased those superstitious mansions, reserved of those Library books, some to serve their jakes, some to scour their Candlesticks, and some to rub their Boots, some they sold to the Grociers and Sope-sellers: and some they sent over Sea to the Book-binders, not in small number, but at times whole Ships full. Yea the universities of this realm are not all clear in this detestable fact. But cursed is that belly which seeketh to be fed with such ungodly gains, and so deeply shameth his natural country. I know a merchant man (which shall at this time be nameless) that bought the Contents of two noble Libraries for forty shillings price, a shame it is to be spoken. This stuff hath he occupied in steed of grey paper by the space of more than these ten years: and yet he hath store enough for as many years to come. A prodigious example is this, and to be abhorred of all men which love their nation as they should do. Yea, what may bring our realm to more shame & rebuke, then to have it noised abroad that we are despisers of Learning? I judge this to be true, and utter it with heaviness, that neither the Britons under the Romans & Saxons, not yet the English people under the Danes and Normans had ever such damage of their learned Monuments as we have seen in our time. Our posterity may well curse this wicked fact of our age, this unreasonable spoil of England's most noble antiquities. The Anabaptists in our time, an unquietous kind of men, arrogant without measure, captious and unlearned, do leave none old works unbrent, that they may easily come by; as appeared by the Libraries at Munster in the land of Westphalia, whom they most furiously destroyed. An able witness of this their wicked custom, is Petrus Plateanus, among many others, in his Treatise against their dogged doings. Libros omnes exurunt (inquit) indignantes se ab alio quàm ab ipso suo spiritu doctos videri. Miserum est cernere Bibliothecas non ignobiles ab execranda Secta hoc modo aboleri. They think scorn of any other Spirit to seem learned, then of their own fanatical brains. Antonius Corvinus saith also in his book against them, Anabaptistarum furor optimos quosque authores, ac vetustissima venerandae antiquitatis exemplaria absumpserunt in Bibliotheca Osnaburgensi. I could bring out a great number of like testimonies from Oecolampadius, Zuinglius, Bullinger, Calvin, and Philip Melancthon, with other of the most notable writers of our age, concerning this ungracious violence of these chimney Preachers, and bench-Bablers: but let these two rehearsed at this time suffice. Thus far John Bale (in his declarations upon Leland's journal) to King EDWARD the VI. 1549.  
But to return. I conceive the very sight of these barbarous insolences committed upon those Treasuries of good Letters, Books and Libraries, could not but impress in serious apprehensions a deep contemplation of the approaching funerals of most kinds of Learning, & make them take their long leaves of the university. And so they did: insomuch that at Oxford their public schools were converted into a private gardenpiot; their public treasury robbed; their moneys and muniments embeseled & wasted, as does more largely appear by the preface to a royal Grant of & Mary's to that university in the first of her reign. Regina omnibus ad quos praesentes literae pervenerint salutem. Gravissimorum hominum testimoniis ad aures nostras perlatum est, ac certissimis quibusdam rationibus nobis quasi ob oculos positum, nostram illam Academiam quae Oxonii sita est, alterum totius regni lumen, olim bonarum literarum omnium celeberrimum emporium, sic & temporum injuriâ afflictam esse, ut penè inculta jaceat, & inopiâ harum retum quibus dignitas omnis sustinetur adeo oppressam esse, ut extincta jam penè & quodam quasi squallore contabuisse videatur. Publicas enim illius Scholas, in quibus olim fiebat statis quibusdam & solennibus diebus frequens discentium concursio, vastatas & in privaros hortos conversas: Publicum thesaurum direptum: ornamenta publica ablata, & publica vectigalia it a tenuia, imò it a ferè nulla esse accepimus, ut neque publicis usibus aliquâ exparta sufficiant, neque publicarum causarum defensioni & injuriis propulsand is respondeant. Nos igitur Academiam illam, quâ contemptâ & desertâ nec orthodoxa fides defendi, nec in rebus controversis veritas erui, nec certè in Repub: justitia administrari potest, penè oppressam & jacentem erigere atque excitare, illiusque squallorem depellere, & inopiam nostrâ munificentiâ sublevare ad regium munus nostrum perrinere existimantes, ut posthac habeat quo & suas Scholas erigat, erectas teneat perpetuis ut speramus futuris tem poribus, & se suaque privilegia adversus quarumcunque injuriarum procellas defendat, &c. And though this might persuade with some that to be a scholar was none of the greatest curses; yet I do not see that the people were hearty friends with learning all Q. Mary's days, nor in the beginning of Queen ELIZABETH. What a learned ministry shall we think 
Q Eliz. injunction 43.  they had under Queen MARY, when many were made Priests being children, and otherwise utterly unlearned, so they could read to say matins and mass? And how can we expect it should be much bettur in the first of Q. ELIZABETH, when some Ministers (because they were but mean Readers) are enjoined to peruse over before once or twice 
Ibid. injunction 3.  the Chapters and Homilies, to the intent they might read to the better understanding of the people? And what estimate shall we make of their discretion, when it was thought 
Ibid. injunction 9  very necessary that no priest or Deacon should take to his wife any manner of woman without the advice and allowance first had, upon good examination, by the Bishop of the diocese, & two justices of the Peace? What rare Preachers shall we imagine they had in the university at that time, when M● Tavernour of Water-Eaton high sheriff of Oxfordshire, came in pure charity, not ostentation, and gave the scholars a Sermon in St Mary's, with his gold chain about his neck, and his sword by his side; beginning with these words, Arriving at the Mount of Saint Mary's, in the stony Stage where I now stand, I have brought you some fine biscuits, baked in the oven of charity, and carefully conserved for the Chickens of the Church, the sparrows of the Spirit, & the sweet swallows of Salvation. By this we may guess what a dearth of learning there was till it pleased God & good Queen ELIZABETH to redeem it from poverty & contempt by granting new and ample Charters to the university of Cambridge, and passing several Statutes in Parliament, That of Provision and others, very beneficial for the maintenance of scholars, and reducing the Clergy of this kingdom to that lustre which they had in the days of her royal Father, when that high and Honourable Court of Parliament gave them this testimony, that the body spiritual, now being usually 
24. Hen. 8. cap. 12.  called the English Church, always hath been reputed and also found of that sort, that both for knowledge, integrity and sufficiency of number, it hath been always thought, and is also at this hour, sufficient and meet of itself, without the intermeddling of any exterior person or persons, to declare and determine all causes of the Law Divine, or of spiritual learning; and to administer all such offices and duties as to their rooms spiritual doth appertain. For the due administration whereof, and to keep them from corruption, and sinister affection, the Kings most noble Progenitors, and the Ancestors of the Nobles of this realm, have sufficiently endowed the said Church both with Honour and Possessions. Indeed nothing more certain, then that this one kingdom of England has in all ages produced as many, nay more learned men in all Professions, than any other Nation in the world besides: witness the several Catalogues of our ancient 
apud Boston: Bariensem. Lehandum. 〈◊〉 Baseum, Vossium. &c.  Authors, & their works. No better reason for it then the liberal maintenance of scholars in the Universities, and the fair preferments in the Church. Take away these, and what can be expected but the whole Nation will be quickly overrun with beggary and barbarism? Then, that definition of a scholar will prove too Catholic, a silly fellow in black. So true has that of the Historian ever been, nihil à quoquam expeti nisi cujus fructus antè providerit. And sublatis studiorum pretiis etiam studia peritura ut minùs decora. By all the laws of God may not a man as freely dispose of his estate io the endowment of a Church or college, as to any lay person or Corporation? The donations of Kings and other pious Founders and Benefactors made to them, are they not as good and strong by the laws of this Land as any other private conveyance? Have not the Clergy as true a propriety in their freeholds as the rest of his majesty's Subjects? Are they not the first words of those fundamental laws of England comprised in the Great Charter; We have granted to God, and by this our present Charter have confirmed for us and our heirs for evermore, that the Church of England shall be free, & shall have all her whole rights and liberties inviolable? Does not every King at his Coronation take a solemn Oath for the preservation of them? Are there not many hideous and direful imprecations of their Founders laid upon all such as dare to violate their intentions? And has not common experience taught us that Church-chapmen, though they had the cheapest pennyworths, had not ever the best bar gains? Not but that the means as well as the Ministers of the Church, as they are liable to abuses, so must they submit to a Reformation. And the Government itself so far as it shall appear to the wisdom of the State to be notoriously inconvenient, no good man but will desire to see it altered. But for those which know least, to take upon them most; not only to instruct and direct the lawgivers, but even to judge and condemn the laws themselves; to cry out against them as tyrannical, and made in times of Popery; to reject the Common-prayer-book as a piece of idolatry, and brand that for superstition which is yet legal conformity, to call the very Office of Episcopacy Antichristian & diabolical, which all Antiquity counted sacred, & our public Acts of Parliament acknowledge to be one of the greatest States of 
8 Eliz c. 8.  this realm; to give out that if all arguments fail, they will dispute it with the sword, what are these but rudiments of Sedition scattered among the common people too much distempered with those two vulgar diseases, Ignorance, and desire of Innovation? whence it is, they can only say they would not have this Government, but cannot say what they would have. Yea may it not be feared that an anabaptistical parity as well in State as Church sounds too plausibly in the ears of the multitude? Consult our Chronicles, see what were the aims and ends of those rude companies under Jack Straw and Wat Tyler in RICHARD the seconds days. Look upon Ket's demands, and Ombles Prophecy under EDWARD VI. do not they all amount to this sum, they would have no Noble men, no Gentlemen, no Lawyers, no justices, as well as no Bishops? This you will find to be the occasion why this worthy Author Sr John Cheek first writ this Discourse. Which indeed was printed again by order of Queen ELIZABETH 1569. and then too not without cause, for there was at that time a Rebellion in the North, & those that were parties to it, pretending a restauration of Religion, tore and trampled under foot the Common-prayer-Bookes which they found in the Churches of Durham. To prevent all such disorders in the giddy multitude of these succeeding times, in quibus magis alii homines quàm alii mores, I have thought it might in part conduee to the public peace & good of this kingdom, if they were once more presented with this short, but considerable Tract, Of the Hurt of Sedition, which may with more ease be kept out of a Commonwealth then expelled: sooner suppressed then moderated. The Author himself lived as peaceably as he writes: whiles he was in his college he was a president of love and amity: and after his departure an earnest mediator to compose the society a little distracted by domestic factions. He that desires to know more of him, let him peruse the succeeding imperfect story of his life, collected for the most part out of such as were contemporary with him, and somewheres spelled and put together out of the several letters of himself and others.   

THE LIFE OF Sir John Cheek.  
THIS learned and worthy man fell immediately from the womb of his mother into the lap of the Muses; being both borne and bred within the liberties of that famous nursery of good letters, Cambridge. Where I quickly find him at a full height, but cannot tell you how low he took his rise: the diversity of expression in several Anthors, cannot but in this point distract the Reader; some making him of a noble, some of a base extraction. We may imagine the mean to be of a nearer alliance to truth then either extreme. I have read his Mother saluted by the name of Mrs Cheek, and two of his Sisters fairly matched, one to Doctor Blithe, the King's professor of physic; and Mary, another of them, to William Cecil, afterwards Lord Burghley, a most able minister of State in those days, & the Father of divers noble Families in these. Upon which probabilities I would conclude M Cheek for his parentage to be somewhat more than the son of his own deserts. And yet these were so far above vulgar and ordinary, that they quickly purchased him a Fellowship in St John's college; and it may be disputable whether in point of learning he ought more to the place, or the place to him. His eminency was so generally taken notice of by the whole Vniverlity, that they pitched upon him for the sole manage of two weighty, but honorary employments, of their public orator and Greek Reader. In the discharge of this latter he went over Sophocles twice, all Homer, all Euripides, and part of Herodotus, to his auditor's benefit, and his own credit, which was all the Salary he then had. Till King HENRY the VIII of his royal bounty, endowed that and the other chairs with the liberal allowance of forty pounds per annum. Then the place was thought worthy the seeking for, and I find three powerful competitors all suiting for it in Mr Cheek's absence: yet it seems the prudent King upon the sole commendatories of his former deservings reserved that honour for him, to be the first Regius Professor of the Greek tongue in Cambridge. as Sir Thomas Smith was of Law. Whom I mention for that great intimacy which he had with our Author. They were both fellows of the same college, both Professors in the same university, both Officers of State in the same Court: they two especially by their advice and example brought the Study of Tongues & other politer learning first into request in that university. But while they were in their full career they had the hap to meet with some rubs. Upon hopes of facilitating the understanding of the Greek tongue they attempted to reduce it to the ancient, but obsolete manner of pronunciation; a thing very repugnant to the genius of those times and other places. This innovation was quickly observed by Stephen Gardiner Bishop of Winchester then chancellor of that university, who took a course to repress it by a strict injunction sent to be published there Maij XXI 1542. Yet so as he was content upon equal terms to reason the matter with Mr Cheek, and so he did fairly and friendly in his first letters: The Professor was not willing to desert the cause and quit the field having so honourable an adversary: he answers the chancellor once and again, freely (I confess) and (as the BP thought) boldly. Long was the cause bandied betwixt them, the one pleading ancient right, the other present possession. But at last Mr Cheek was content to submit to that one unanswerable argument of the chancellors, Authority. Yet his rules and practice had taken such deep root in his auditors that by them it was propagated through this whole kingdom: and that we Englishmen now speak Greek and are able to understand one another when nobody else can, this we must acknowledge to be a special effect of Mr Cheek's rare ingeny. Which could not long be contained within the narrow precincts of the university; that famous King, HENRY the VIII, thought it fit to call this great light of learning out of the shadow, and so he did julij X. 1544. and to his custody he then committed the most precious jewel of the kingdom, the young Prince EDWARD, being at that time not full seven years of age. Here was such a happy concurrence of sweetness and ingenuity that it was no very hard matter for the Master to imbue the tender years of his Scholar with so deep a tincture of Piety, and good letters as rendered him the glory of his own times, and the miracle of ours. What unspeakable progress he made under this director of his Studies, he that makes a doubt of Cardan's testimony may be confirmed from those many noble relics of his industry and sufficiency, both in Greek and Latin, written with his own hand, which are still preserved in his majesty's Library at S. James. And what a fit and happy choice the King made in such a Tutor, for such a scholar I cannot better express then in the words of that learned Antiquary John Leland, who dedicated one of his books to Mr Cheek with this L'envoy.  
Ad libellum, ut joanni Checo Grantano placere studeat 

Si vis Thespiadum Choro probari  
Factor ut consilio, libelle, nostro  
Facundo studeas placere Checo:  
Quem Pandioniae colunt Athenae.  
Et quem Roma colit diserta multúm  
Quem Rex Maximus, omnium supremùsque,  
Henricus reputans virum probatum  
Spectatúmque satis, reconditeque  
Censorem solidum eruditionis,  
edvardum bene filium, suúmque  
Haeredem, puerum, illi, ad alta natum,  
Sic concredidit utriusque lingua  
Flores ut legeret venustiores;  
Exercens facili manum labour,  
Ut CHRISTI imbiberet suäve nectar.  
Felicem arbitror hunc diem fuisse  
Tanto Discipulo dedit Magistrum  
Qui talem &c.    
I suppose it may be truly said that under God M. Cheek was a special instrument of the propagation of the gospel, & that Religion which we now profess in this kingdom. For he not only sowed the seeds of that Doctrine in the heart of Prince EDWARD, which afterwards grew up into a general Reformation when he came to be King, but by his means the same saveing truth was gently instilled into the Lady ELIZABETH, by those who by his procurement were admitted to be the Guides of her younger Studies: Such were first William Grindall, a hopeful young Scholar of S. John's in Cambridge, whom being destitute of other means of subsistence, M. Cheek took into his service Anno 1544. and soon after preferred him to the Lady ELIZABETH: with whom he continued as long as he lived in good favour and liking: and the loss of him was, by Mr Cheek's means, presently supplied in Roger Ascham, who had formerly been his Scholar in the college, and successor in the orator's place in the university: A man dear unto him for similitude of studies, but more for his zeal to the true Religion. Which was so precious with our Author, that no man was great in his books, but such as were well affected to Gods. Even in HENRY the VIII time his friends and familiars were most of those worthy men which proved Reformers in King Edward's days, and either Martyrs or Exiles in Queen Mary's. His foreign acquaintance were Sleidan, Melancthon, Sturmius, Bucer, Camerarius, Coelius, Peter Martyr and others, great Scholars and good Protestants. And the crown was no sooner on King Edward's head, January XX VIII. 1547. and the gospel set at liberty, but many of these men came, and others were sent for to help forwards that great work of the Reformation in England. when the young King was well settled in his Throne, and began to be skilled in the art of reigning, he thought fit to make choice of such men for the nearest attendance upon his person, as he knew to be best affected to it; & therefore amongst others admitted M. Cheek to be one of his Privy Chamber. This accrue of honour to her son made his learned mother the university a suitor to him for protection in those stormy times: who in her letters to him gives him such an elegy, as I cannot omit without guilt of concealment. This it is, Ex universo illo numero Clarissimorum virorum (Clarissime Chece) qui ex hac Academia in Rempublicam unquam prodierunt, Tu unus es quem semper Academia prae universis aliis & praesentem complexa est, & absentem admirata est: quam Tu vicissim plusquam Vniversi alij & praesens ornaveras, & absens juvas. About this time he took so much leisure as either to pen or publish several learned, and useful Tracts both for Church and State. And as his merits, so his Prince's favour were ever in progression. In the year 1551, after the treaty about the Match with France, when his Majesty was pleased to make a dole of honours amongst his deserving Subjects, M. Cheek was not forgotten; he with his Brother in Law Secretary Cecil, and others were then Knighted. This was but a foundation upon which the grateful Prince had a purpose to erect higher preferments had not the hand of Providence so soon snatched him a way into another kingdom, to invest his temples with a more glorious crown. This was done July VI. 1553. Not long after he had called Sir John Cheek to sit at the helm of State, the council board. In this common loss of so good a King He, good man, had more than a common share. The tide of the times must now turn, and he must either row with it, or be in danger to perish in it. And so he was; for his zeal to Religion transporting him a little beyond his loyalty to his lawful sovereign, he was one of those among the council who could have been content the Lady Jane's title to the crown should have been thought better than the Lady Mary's. And for this He amongst others was clapped up in Prison July XXVII. Here he was stripped of the greatest part of his honours, and all his fortunes: but his person was set at liberty September III. And not long after I meet with him in Germany, either a forced or a voluntary Exile. From thence he passed into Italy, and by the way left those adversary Epistles of Winchester and himself with his friend Coelius, who put them in Print without the author's privity. At his return to Germany he was kindly entertained at Strasbourg, where he took up his old trade; and set up shop again, being chosen public Professor of the Greek tongue in that place. This was a treasure which maintained him in his exile: this he had not confiscate to the Queen: this escaped the diligence of all the Searchers when he conveyed it out of the kingdom. Here he lived about two years in good repute, till I know not what unlucky stars put him upon a journey into the Low Countries. Nor is it well agreed what his business was there. Some have said it was to marry a wife: but what need of that, when he was already matched to a young Lady, who lived to see many happier days after his decease, and died well nigh threescore years after him, Anno 1616? Others report the occasion of this his voyage to be no more but a friendly interview, and visit of the English Ambassadors then at Bruxelles, and among them his ancient friend the Lord Pagett, who engaged the faith of King PHILIP for his safe conduct. But for the main motive of this his voyage, I subscribe to the relation of Sleidan, as most ancient & likely to be most true. He tells us how Sir John Cheek went into Low Germany ut uxorem educeret, to fetch his wife from thence, who belike was lately come over out of England, and meant to settle with him at Strasbourg. Those words of Sleidan were (as I conceive) by an easy mistake corrupted into uxorem duceret; and this was the first plantation of that opinion touching his marriage, which sprung up afterwards into a popular error. But whatever was the occasion, the event of that journey did not correspond to the undertakers hopes. For in his return from Bruxelles to Antwerp, May XV. 1556, both Sir John Cheek and Sir Peter Carew were waylayed by the Provost marshal for King PHILIP, beaten from their horses, tied hand and foot to the bottom of a Cart, and so conveyed hoodwinked to the next Haven, where they were shipped under hatches, and their first landing place was the Tower of London, where they were committed to close Prison. It is said there be some Writers that have made both these men Martyrs two years before; and assigned them a place in the Calendar June XIII. 1554, the day upon which they were supposed to be burned both at the same Stake, and for the same Cause. But the truth is otherwise: Sir Peter Carew outlived all his troubles, and underwent many honourable services under Queen ELIZABETH, and died in Ireland above twenty years after this supposed martyrdom, Anno 1575. Sr John Check's lot was somewhat harder: he was put to this miserable choice, either to forgo his life, or what is far more precious his liberty of conscience. No mean; neither his great learning, his known integrity, the intercession of his friends, and among them Abbot Fekenhans, (a man which could do somewhat with Queen MARY) could compound for his pardon at any lower rate than the recantatiof his Religion. This he was loath to accept till his hard usage in prison, joined with threats of worse upon his perseverance, and fair promises to his submission, with what other insinuating means human policy could invent to work upon flesh and blood, drew from his mouth an abrenuciation of that truth which he had so long professed, and still believec. Upon this he was sooner restored to his liberty, but never to his content. The sense and sorrow for his fall in himself, and the daily sight of that cruel butchery which was exercised upon others for the constant profession of the truth, made such deep impressions in his broken soul, as brought him to a speedy, but comfortable end of a miserable life. He died at London in the house of Peter Osberne esquire, in September 1557. His body lies buried in St Albans, Woodstreet: with this Epitaph upon his tomb. 

Doctrinae CHECUS linguaeque utriusque Magister  
Aurea naturae fabrica morte jacet.  
Non erat ė multis unus, sed praestitit unus  
Omnibus, & patriae flos erat ille suae.  
Gemma Britanna fuit: tam magnum nulla tulerunt  
Tempora thesaurum; tempora nulla ferent.   I do not find any issue that he left of his body, save one son which bare his own name, a comely young man and a stout; slain in his Prince's service at the siege of Fort del Or in Jreland 1580. the only man of ours that was lost in that day's service. But for the issue of his brain, that's more numerous; and for their sakes which are delighted in such pedigrees, I have set down this succeeding Catalogue of Sir John Cheeks Works. 

Scripsit CL. V. Ioannes Checus  
Introductionem Grammatices. Lib. 1.  
De Ludimagistrorum officio, Lib. 1.  
De pronunciatione linguae Graecae.  
Correctiones Herodoti, Thycididis, Platonis, Demosthenes', & Xenophontis. lib. plurimis.  
Epitaphia. Lib. 1.  
Panegyricum in nativitatem EDVARDI Principis.  
Elegiam de aegrotatione & obitu EDVARDI VI.  
In obitum Antonii Dennei. Lib. 1.  
De obitu Buceri.  
Commentarios in Psalmum CXXXIX & alios.  
An liceat nubere post Divortium. Lib. 1.  
De fide iustificante. Lib. 1.  
De aqua lustrali, cineribus, & palmis, ad Wintoniensem. L. 1.  
De Eucharistiae Sacramento. Lib. 1.  
Collegit in Parliamento argumenta & rationes exutraque parte super negotio Eucharistiae.  
Edidit (quem hic recusum damus) de damno ex seditione Libellum.   

Transtulit E Graeco in Latinum.  
Euripidis & Sophocils quaedam ad literam.  
Aristotelem de anima.  
Demosthenes' Olynthiacas, Philippicas, & contra Leptinem.  
AEschinis & Demosthenes' Orationes adversarias.  
Plutarchum de superstitione.  
Leonem Imperatorem De apparatu bellico.  
josephum De antiquitatibus judaicis.  
Chrysostomi Homilias quasdam. viz Contra Observatores Novilunii 1. De dormientibus in Christo. 1. De provi dentia Dei. 3. De fato. 3.  
Maximi Monachi asceticum.   

Ex Anglico in Latinum.  
Thomae Cranmeri librum de Sacramentis.  
Officium de Communione.     

THE true subject To THE rebel.  
AMONG so many and notable benefits, wherewith GOD hath already liberally and Plentifully endued us, there is nothing more beneficial, then that we have by his grace kept us quiet from rebellion at this time. For we see such miseries hang over the whole state of common wealth, through the great misorder of your sedition, that it maketh us much to rejoice, that we have been neither partners of your doings, nor conspirers of your counsels. For even as the lacedaemonians for the avoiding of drunkenness, did cause their sons to behold their servants when they were drunk, that by beholding their beastliness, they might avoid the like vice: even so hath God like a merciful father stayed us from your wickedness, that by beholding the filth of your fault, we might justly for offence abhor you like Rebels, whom else by nature we love like Englishmen. And so for ourselves we have great cause to thank God, by whose religion and holy word daily taught us, we learn not only to fear him truly, but also to obey our King faithfully, and to serve in our own vocation like subjects honestly. And as for you, we have surely just cause to lament you as brethren, and yet juster cause to rise against you as enemies, & most just cause to overthrow you as Rebels. For what hurt could be done either to us privately, or to the whole commonwealth generally, that is now with mischief so brought in by you, that even as we see now the flame of your rage, so shall we necessarily be consumed hereafter with the misery of the same. Wherefore consider yourselves with some light of understanding, and mark this grievous & horrible fault, which ye have thus vildly committed, how hay nous it must needs appear to you, if ye will reasonably consider that, which for my duties sake, and my whole country's cause, I will at this present declare unto you.  
Ye which be bound by God's word not to obey for fear, like men pleasers, but for conscience sake, like Christians, have contrary to God's holy will, whose offence is everlasting death; and contrary to the godly order of quietness, set out to us in the King's majesty's laws, the breach whereof is not unknown to you, taken in hand uncalled of God, unsent by men, unfit by reason, to cast away your bounden duties of obedience, and to put on you against the Magistrates, God's office committed to the Magistrates, for the reformation of your pretenced injuries.  
In the which doing, ye have first faulted grievously against God, next offended unnaturally our sovereign Lord, thirdly troubled miserably the whole commonwealth, undone cruelly many an honest man, and brought in an utter misery both to us the King's subjects, and to yourselves being false rebels: and yet ye pretend that partly for God's cause, and partly for the commonwealths sake, ye do rise, when as yourselves cannot deny, but ye that seek in word God's cause, do break indeed God's commandment; and ye that seek the commonwealth, have destroyed the commonwealth: and so ye mar that ye would make, and break that ye would amend, because ye nether seek any thing rightly, nor would amend any thing orderly.  
He that faulteth, faulteth against God's ordinance, who hath forbidden all faults, and therefore ought again to be punished by God's ordinance, who is the reformer of faults. For he saith, leave the punishment to me, and I will revenge them. But the Magistrate is the ordinance of God, appointed by him with the sword of punishment, to look straightly to all evil doers. And therefore that that is done by the Magistrate, is done by the ordinance of God, whom the Scripture oftentimes doth call God, because he hath the execution of God's office. How then do you take in hand to reform? Be ye Kings? By what authority? or by what succession? Be ye the King's officers? By what commission? Be ye called of God? By what tokens declare ye that? God's word teacheth us, that no man should take in hand any office, but he that is called of God like Aaron. What Moses I pray you called you? What God's minister bade you rise?  
Ye rise for religion. What religion taught you that? If ye were offered persecution for religion, ye ought to fly: so Christ teacheth you, and yet you intend to fight. If ye would stand in the truth, ye ought to suffer like Martyrs: & you would slay like Tyrants. Thus for religion ye keep no religion, and neither will follow the counsel of Christ, nor the constancy of Martyrs. Why rise ye for religion? Have ye any thing contrary to God's book? Yea, have ye not all things agreeable to God's word? But the new is different from the old, and therefore ye will have the old. If ye measure the old by truth, ye have the oldest: if ye measure the old by fancy, than it is hard, because men's fancies change, to give that is old. Ye will have the old still: Will ye have any older than that which Christ left, & his Apostles taught, and the first Church after Christ did use? Ye will have that the Canons do establish. Why, that is a great deal younger than that ye have of later time, and newlier invented. Yet that is it that ye desire. Why, then ye desire not the oldest. And do you prefer the Bishops of Rome afore Christ? men's invention afore God's law? the newer sort of worship before the older? Ye seek no religion, ye be deceived, ye seek traditions. They that teach you, blind you; that so instruct you, deceive you. If ye seek what the old Doctors say, yet look what Christ the oldest of all saith. For he saith, before Abraham was made, I am. If ye seek the truest way, he is the very truth: if ye seek the readiest way, he is the very way: if ye seek everlasting life, he is the very life. What religion would you have other now, than his religion?  
You would have the Bibles in again. It is no marvel, your blind guides would lead you blind still. Why, be ye owlets and Bats, that ye cannot look on the light? Christ saith to every one, search ye the Scriptures, for they bear witness of Christ. You say, pull in the Scriptures, for we will have no knowledge of Christ. The Apostles of Christ will us to be so ready, that we may be able to give every man an account of our faith. Ye will us not once to read the Scriptures, for fear of knowing of our faith. Saint Paul prayeth that every man may increase in knowledge, ye desire that our knowledge might decay again A true religion ye ieek belike, and worthy to be fought for. For without the sword indeed, nothing can help it, neither Christ, nor truth, nor age can maintain it. But why should ye not like that which God's word establisheth, the primitive Church hath authorised, the greatest learned men of this realm have drawn, the whole consent of the Parliament hath confirmed, the King's majesty hath set forth? Is it not truly set out? Can ye devise any truer, than Christ's Apostles used? Ye think it is not learnedly done. Dare ye Commons take upon you more learning, than the chosen Bishops and clerks of this realm have? Think ye folly in it? Ye were wont to judge your Parliament wisest, and now will ye suddenly excel them in wisdom? Or can you think it lacketh authority, which the King, the Parliament, the learned, the wise, have justly approved? Learn, learn, to know this one point of Religion, that God will be worshipped as he hath prescribed, and not as we have devised: and that his will is wholly in his Scriptures, which be full of God's spirit, and profitable to teach the truth, to reprove lies, to amend faults, to bring one up in righteousness, that he that is a God's man may be perfect and ready to all good works. What can be more required to serve God withal? And thus much for religion-Rebels.  
The other rabble of Norfolk Rebels, ye pretend a commonwealth. How amend ye it, by killing of Gentlemen, by spoiling of Gentlemen, by imprisoning of Gentlemen? A marvelous tanned commonwealth. Why should ye thus hate them? for their riches, or for their rule? Rule they never took so much in hand, as ye do now. They never resisted the King, never withstood his council; be faithful at this day, when ye be faithless, not only to the King, whose subjects ye be, but also to your Lords, whose tenants ye be. Is this your true duty, in some of homage, in most of fealty, in all of allegiance, to leave your duties, go back from your promises, fall from your faith, & contrary to law and truth to make unlawful assemblies, ungodly companies, wicked and detestable camps, to disobey your betters, and to obey your Tanners, to change your obedience from a King to a Ket, to submit yourselves to traitors, and break your faith to your true King and Lords? They rule but by law: if otherwise, the Law, the council, the King, taketh away their rule. Ye have orderly sought no redress, but ye have in time found it. In countries some must rule, some must obey, every man may not bear like stroke, for every man is not like wise. And they that have seen most, and be best able to bear it, and of just dealing befide, be most fit to rule. It is another matter to understand a man's own grief, and to know the commonwealths sore: and therefore not they that know their own case, as every man doth, but they that understand the commonwealths state, aught to have in countries the preferment of ruling. If ye felt the pain that is joined with governance, as ye see and like the honour, ye would not hurt others to rule them, but rather take great pain to be ruled of them. If ye had rule of the King's majesty committed unto you, it were well done ye had ruled the Gentlemen: but now ye have it not, & cannot bear their rule, it is to think the King's majesty foolish and unjust, that hath given certain rule to them. And seeing by the Scripture, that ye ought not to speak evil of any Magistrate of the people, why do ye not only speak evil of them, whom the King's majesty hath put in office, but also judge evil of the King himself, and thus seditiously in field stand with your swords drawn against him?  
If riches offend you, because ye would have the like, then think that to be no commonwealth, but envy to the commonwealth. Envy it is to appair another man's estate, without the amendment of your own. And to have no Gentlemen, because ye be none yourselves, is to bring down an estate, and to mend none. Would ye have all alike rich? That is the overthrow of labour, and utter decay of work in this realm. For who will labour more, if when he hath gotten more, the idle shall by lust without right, take what him lust from him, under pretence of equality with him. This is the bringing in of idleness, which destroyeth the commonwealth, & not the amendment of labour, that maintaineth the commonwealth If there should be such equality, than ye take all hope away from yours, to come to any better estate than you now leave them. And as many mean men's children come honestly up, and are great succour to all their stock, so should none be hereafter holpen by you: but because ye seek equality, whereby all cannot be rich, ye would that belike, whereby every man should be poor. And think beside that riches and inheritance be God's providence, and given to whom of his wisdom he thinketh good. To the honest for the increase of their godliness, to the wicked for the heaping up of their damnation, to the simple for a recompense of other lacks, to the wise for the greater setting out of God's goodness. Why will your wisdom now stop God's wisdom, and provide by your laws, that God shall not enrich them, whom he hath by providence appointed as him liketh? God hath made the poor, & hath made them to be poor, that he might show his might, and set them aloft when he listeth, for such cause as to him seemeth; and pluck down the rich to this state of poverty, to show his power, as he disposeth to order them. Why do not we then being poor bear it wisely, rather than by lust seek riches unjustly; and show ourselves contented with God's ordinance, which we must either willingly obey, and then we be wise; or else we must unprofitably strive withal, and then we be mad. But what mean ye by this equality in the commonwealth? If one be wiser than another, will ye banish him because ye intend an equality of all things? If one be stronger than another, will ye slay him because ye seek an equality of all things? If one be well favourder then another, will ye punish him because ye look for an equality of all things? If one have better utterance than another, will ye pull out his tongue to save your equality? And if one be richer than another, will ye spoil him to maintain an equality? If one beelder then another, will ye kill him for his equalities sake? How injurious are ye to God himself, who intendeth to bestow his gifts as he himself listeth, and ye seek by wicked insurrections to make him give them commonly alike to all men, as your vain fancy liketh. Why would ye have an equality in riches, & in other gifts of God there is no mean sought? Either by ambition ye seek lordliness, much unfit for you; or by covetousness ye be unsatiable, a thing likely enough in you; or else by folly ye be not content with your estate, a fancy to be plucked out of you. But and we being weary of poverty would seek to enrich ourselves, we should go a far other way to work then this, and so should we rightly come to our desire. Doth not Saint Peter teach us afore God a right way to honour, to riches, to all necessary and profitable things for us? He saith, humble yourselves, that God might exalt you: and cast all your care on him, for he careth for you. He teacheth the way to all good things at God's hand, is to be humble, and you exalt yourselves. Ye seek things after such a sort, as if the servant should anger his master, when he seeketh to have a good turn on him. Ye would have riches I think, at God's hand who giveth all riches, and yet ye take the way clean contrary to riches. Know ye not that he that exalteth himself, God will throw him down? How can ye get it then, by thus setting out yourselves: ye should submit you by humility one to another, and ye set up yourselves by arrogancy above the Magistrates. See herein how much ye offend God. Remember ye not, that if ye come nigh to God, he will come nigh unto you? If then ye go from God, he will go from you. Doth not the psalm say, he is holy with the holy, and with the wicked man he is froward? Even as he is ordered of men, he will order them again. If ye would follow his will, and obey his commandments, ye should eat the fruits of the earth, saith the Prophet: if not, the sword shall devour you. Ye might have eaten the fruits of this seasonable year, if ye had not by disobedience rebelled against God. Now not only ye cannot eat that which yourselves did first sow by labour, and now destroy by sedition, but also if the King's majesty's sword came not against you, as just policy requireth, yet the just vengeance of God would light among you, as his word promiseth, and your cruel wickedness deserveth.  
For whatsoever the causes be, that have moved your wild affections herein, as they be unjust causes, and increase your faults much, the thing itself, the rising I mean, must needs be wicked and horrible afore God, and the usurping of authority, & taking in hand of rule, which is the sitting in God's seat of justice, and a proud climbing up into God's high throne, must needs be not only cursed newly by him, but also hath been oftne punished afore of him. And that which is done to God's officer, God accounteth it done to him. For they despise not the minister, as he saith himself, but they despise him: and that presumption of challenging God's seat, doth show you to have been Lucifers, and showeth us that God will punish you like Lucifer's. Wherefore rightly look, as ye duly have deserved, either for great vengeance for your abominable transgression, or else earnestly repent with unfeigned minds, your wicked doings: & either with example of death be content to dehort others, or else by faithfulness of obedience declare how great a service it is to God, to obey your Magistrates faithfully, and to serve in subjection truly.  
Well, if ye had not thus grievously offended God, whom ye ought to worship, what can ye reasonably think it, to be no fault against the King. whom ye ought to reverence? Ye be bound by God's word to obey your King, and is it no break of duty to withstand your King? If the servant be bound to obey his master in the family, is not the subject bound to serve the King in his Realmen. The child is bound to the private father, and be we not all bound to the commonwealths father? If we ought to be subject to the King for God's sake, ought we not then, I pray you, to be faithfully subject to the King? If we ought dutifully to show all obedience to heathen Kings, shall we not willingly and truly be subject to Christian Kings? If one ought to submit himself by humility to another, ought we not all by duty to be subject to our King? If the members of our natural body all follow the head, shall not the members of the political body all obey the King? If good manners be content to give place, the lower to the higher, shall not religion teach us always to give place to the highest? If true subjects will die gladly in the King's service, should not all subjects think it duty to obey the King with just service? But you have not only disobeyed, like ill subjects; but also taken stoutly rule upon you, like wicked magistrates. Ye have been called to obedience, by counsel of private men, by the advice of the King's majesty's council, by the King's majesty's free pardon, but what counsel taketh place where sturdiness is law, and churlish answers be counted wisdom? Who can persuade where treason is above reason, and might ruleth right, and it is had for lawful whatsoever is lustful, & commotioners are better than commissioners, and common woe is named commonwealth? Have ye not broken his laws, disobeyed his council, rebelled against him? And what is the commonwealth worth, when the law which is indifferent for all men, shall be wilfully and spitefully broken of headstrong men, that seek against laws to order laws; that those may take place, not what the consent of wise men hath appointed, but what the lust of rebels hath determined. What unthriftiness is in ill servants, wickedness in unnatural children, sturdiness in unruly subjects, cruelty in fierce enemies, wildness in beastly minds, pride in disdainful hearts, that floweth now in you: which have fled from housed conspiracies to encamped robberies; and are better contented to suffer famine, cold, travel, to glut your lusts, then to live in quietness, to save the Commonwealth: & think more liberty in wilfulness, than wisdom in dutifulness: and so run headlong not to the mischief of other, but to the destruction of yourselves, and undo by folly that ye intend by mischief, neither seeing how to remedy that ye judge faulty, nor willing to save yourselves from misery, which stiff-neckedness cannot do, but honesty of obedience must frame.  
If authority would serve, under a King the council have greatest authority; if wisdom and gravity might take place, they be of most experience; if knowledge of the Commonwealth could help, they must by daily conference of matters understand it best: yet neither the authority that the King's majesty hath given them, nor the gravity which you know to be in them, nor the knowledge which with great travel they have gotten, can move ye either to keep you in the duty ye ought to do, or to avoid the great disorder wherein ye be. For where disobedience is thought stoutness, and sullenness is counted manhood, and stomaching is courage, and prating is judged wisdom, and the elvishest is most meet to rule, how can other just authority be obeyed, or sad counsel be followed, or good knowledge of matters be heard, or commandments of counsellors be considered? And how is the King obeyed, whose wisest be withstanded, the disobedientest obeyed, the high in authority not weighed, the unskilfullest made chief captains, to the Noblest most hurt intended, the braggingest brawler to be most safe. And even as the viler parts of the body would contend in knowledge & government with the five wits, so do the lower parts of the Commonwealth enterprise as high a matter, to strive against their duty of obedience to the council.  
But what talk I of disobedience so quietly? have not such mad rages run in your heads, that forsaking and bursting the quietness of the common peace, ye have heinously & traitorously encamped yourself in field, & there like a boil in a body, nay like a sink in a town, have gathered together all the nasty vagabonds, and idle loiterers, to bear armour against him, with whom all godly and good subjects will live and die withal? If it be a fault, when two fight together, and the King's peace broken, and punishment to be sought therefore, can it be but an outrageous and a detestable mischief, when so many rebels in number, malicious in mind, mischievous in enterprise, fight, not among themselves, but against all the Kings true and obedient subjects, and seek to prove whether rebellion may beat down lionesty, and wickedness may overcome truth or no? If it be treason to speak heinously of the King's majesty, who is not hurt thereby, and the infamy returneth to the speaker again, what kind of outrageous and horrible treason is it to assemble in campean army against him, and so not only intend an overthrow to him, and also to his Commonwealth, but also to cast him into an infamy through all outward and strange nations, and persuade them that he is hated of his people, whom he cannot rule, and that they be no better than villains, which will not with good orders be ruled. What death can be devised cruel enough for those rebels, who with trouble seek death, and cannot quench the thirst of their rebellion, but with the blood of true subjects, and hate the King's merciful pardon, when they miserably have transgressed, and in such an outrage of mischief will not by stubborness acknowledge themselves to have faulted, but intend to broil the Commonwealth with the flame of their treason, and as much as lieth in them, not only to annoy themselves, but to destroy all other. He that is miscontented with things that happen, and because he cannot bear the misery of them, renteth his hair, and teareth his skin, and mangleth his face, which easeth not his sorrow, but increaseth his misery, may he not be justly called mad and fantastical, and worthy whose wisdom should be suspected? And what shall we say of them, who being in the Commonwealth, feeling a sore grievous unto them, and easy to have been amended, sought not the remedy, but have increased the grief, and like frantic beasts, raging against their head, do tear and deface as much as lieth in them, his whole authority in government, and violently take to themselves that rule on them, which he by policy hath granted unto other. And who weighing well the heaviness of the fault, may not justly say and hold them to be worse herein than any kind of bruit beasts. For we see that the sheep will obey the shepherd, and the neat be ruled by the Nete-heard, & the Horse will know his keeper, and the Dog will be in awe of his Master, and every one of them feed there, and of that, as his keeper and ruler doth appoint him; and goeth from thence, and that, as he is forbidden by his ruler. And yet we have not heard of, that any Heard or company of these have risen against their herdsmen or governor, but be always contented not only to obey them, but also to suffer them to take profit of them. And we see furthermore, that all Herds, and all sorts, be more eager in fierceness against all kind of strangers, than they be against their own rulers, and will easier offend him who hath not hurt them, than touch their ruler who seeketh profit on them. But ye that ought to be governed by your Magistrates, as the Herds by the Herdman, and aught to be like sheep to your King, who ought to be like a shepherd unto you, even in the time when your profit was sought, and better redress was intended then your upstirres and unquietness could obtain, have beyong the cruelty of all beasts, foully risen against your ruler, and showed yourselves worthy to be ordered like beasts, who in kind of obedience will fall from the state of men. A Dog stoopeth when he is beaten of his Master: not for lack of stomach, but for natural obedience: you being not stricken of your head, but favoured; not kept down, but succoured, and remedied by law, have violently against law, not only barked like beasts, but also bitten like hellhounds. What, is the mischief of sedition, either not known unto you, or not feared? Have not examples aforetimes, both told the end of Rebels, and the wickedness of rebellion itself? But as for old examples, let them pass for a while, as things well to be considered, but at this present one thing more to be weighed. Look upon yourselves, after ye have wickedly stepped into this horrible kind of treason, do ye not see how many bottomless whirlpools of mischief ye be gulpht withal, and what loathsome kinds of rebellion ye be fain to wade through?  
Ye have sent out in the King's name, against the Kings will, precepts of all kinds, and without commandment commanded his subjects, & unrulily have ruled, where ye listed to command, thinking your own fancies the King's commandments, and rebels lusts in things to be right government of things, not looking what should follow by reason, but what yourselves follow by affection. And is it not a dangerous and a cruel kind of treason, so to give out precepts to the King's people? There can be no just execution of laws, reformation of faults, giving out of commandments, but from the King. For in the King only is the right hereof, and the authority of him derived by his appointment to his Ministers. Ye having no authority of the King, but taking it of yourselves, what think ye yourselves to be? Ministers ye be none, except ye be the devil's Ministers, for he is the author of sedition. The King's majesty intendeth to maintain peace, and to oppress war, ye stir up uproars of people, hurly-burlies of vagabonds, routs of robbers, is this any part of the King's ministry? If a vagabond would do what him lust, and call himself your servant, and execute such offices of trust, whether ye would or no, as ye have committed to another man's credit, what would every one of you say or do herein? Would ye suffer it? Ye wander out of houses, ye make every day new matters as it pleaseth you, ye take in hand the execution of those things, God by his word forbidding the same, which God hath put the Magistrates in trust withal. What can ye say to this? Is it sufferable think ye? If ye told a private message in another man's name, can it be but a false lie I pray ye? And to tell a feigned message to the Commonwealth, and that from the King, can it be honest think ye? To command is more than to speak, what is it then to command so traitorous a lie? This then which is in word a deceitful lie, and in deed a traitorous fact, noisome to the Commonwealth, unhonourable to the King, mischievous in you, how can you otherwise judge of it, but to be an unheard of and notable disobedience to the King, and therefore by notable example to be punished, and not with gentleness of pardon to be forgiven.  
Ye have robbed every honest house, and spoiled them unjustly, & pitifully wronged poor men being no offenders, to their utter undoing, and yet ye think ye have not broken the King's laws. The King's majesty's law and his commandment is, that every man should safely keep his own, and use it reasonably to an honest gain of his living: ye violently take and carry away from men without cause, all things whereby they should maintain, not only themselves, but also their family, and leave them so naked, that they shall feel the smart of your cursed enterprise, longer than your own unnatural and ungodly stomachs would well vouchsafe. By justice ye should neither hurt nor wrong man; and your pretenced cause of this monstrous stir, is to increase men's wealth: and yet how many, and say truth, have ye decayed and undone, by spoiling and taking away their goods? How should honest men live quietly in the Commonwealth at any time, if their goods either gotten by their own labour, or left to them by their friends, shall unlawfully and unorderly, to the feeding of a sort of Rebels, be spoiled and wasted, and utterly scattered abroad? The thing ye take, is not your right, it is another man's own. The manner of taking against his will, is unlawful, and against the order of every good commonwealth. The cause why ye take it, is mischievous & horrible, to fat up your sedition. Ye that take it, be wicked traitors, and common enimes of all good order. If he that desireth another man's goods or cattle, do fault, what doth he, think you, whose desire taking followeth, and is led to and fro by just, as his wicked fancy void of reason doth guide him? He that useth not his own well and charitably, hath much to answer for, and shall they be thought not unjust, who not only take away other men's, but also misuse and waste the same ungodly? They that take things privily away, and steal secretly and covertly other men's goods, be by law judged worthy death: and shall they, that without shame spoil things openly, and be not afraid by impudence to profess their spoil, be thought either honest creatures to God, or faithful subjects to their King, or natural men to their country? If nothing had moved you but the example of mischief, and the foul practice of other moved by the same, ye should yet have abstained from so licentious and so villainous a show of robbery, considering how many honester there be that being loath their wickedness should be blazed abroad, yet be found out by providence, and hanged for desert. What shall we then think or say of you? shall we call you pickers, or hid thieves? nay more than thieves, day thieves, heard stealers, shire spoilers, and utter destroyers of all kind of families, both among the poor, and also among the rich. Let us yet farther see, is there no more things wherein ye have broken the King's laws, and so vildly disobeyed him, contrary to your bounden duty?  
Ye have not only spoiled the King's true subjects of their goods, but also ye have imprisoned their bodies, which should be at liberty under the King; and restrained them of their service, which by duty they owe the King; and appaired both strength and health, wherewith they live and serve the King. Is there any honest thing more desired than liberty? ye have shamefully spoiled them thereof. Is there any thing more dutiful then to serve their Lord and Master? But as that was deserved of the one part, so was it hindered and stopped on your part. For neither can the King be served, nor families kept, nor the Commonwealth looked unto, where freedom of liberty is stopped, and diligence of service is hindered, and the help of strength and health abated. Men's bodies ought to be free from all men's bondage and cruelty, and only in this realm be subject in public punishment to our public governor, and neither be touched of headless captains, nor holden of brainless Rebels. For the government of so precious a thing, aught to belong unto the most noble ruler, and not justly to be in every man's power, which is justly every living man's treasure. For what goods be so dear to every man as his own body is, which is the true vessel of the mind to be measurably kept of every man for all exercises and services of the mind. If ye may not of your own authority meddle with men's goods, much less you may of your own authority take order with men's bodies. For what be goods in comparison of health, liberty, and strength, which be all settled and fastened in the body. They that strike other, do greatly offend and be justly punishable. And shall they that cruelly and wrongfully torment men's bodies with irons, and imprisonments, be thought not of other, but of themselves honest, and plain, and true dealing men? What shall we say by them, who in a private business will let a man to go his journey in the King's high way? Do they not, think ye, plain wrong? Then in a common cause, not only to hinder them, but also to deal cruelly with them, and shut them from doing their service to the King, and their duty to the Commonwealth, is it not both disobedience, cruelty, and mischief think ye? What an hindrance is it, to have a good garment hurt, any jewel appaired, or any esteemed thing to be decayed? And seeing no earthly thing a man hath more precious than his body, to cause it to be cruelly tormented with irons, feebled with cold, weakened with ordering, can it be thought any other thing but wrong to the sufferer, cruelty in the doer, and great disobedience & transgression to the King: How then be ye able to defend it? But seeing ye so unpittifully vex men, cast them in prison, lade them with irons, pine them with famine, contrary to the rule of nature, contrary to the King's majesty's laws, contrary to God's holy ordinances, having no matter, but pretenced and feigned gloss, ye be not only disobedient to the King like Rebels, but withstanding the law of nature like beasts, and so worthy to die like dogs, except the King's majesty, without respect of your deserving, do mercifully grant you of his goodness, that which you cannot escape by justice.  
Yet ye being not content with this, as small things enterprise great matters, and as though ye could not satisfy yourself, if ye should leave any mischief undone, have sought blood with cruelty, and have slain of the King's true subjects many, thinking their murder to be your defence, when as ye have increased the fault of your vile rebellion, with the horror of bloodshed, and so have burdened mischief with mischief, while it come to an importable weight of mischief. What could we do more in the horriblest kind of faults, to the greatest transgressors and offenders of God and men, then to look straightly on them by death, and so to rid them out of the Commonwealth by severe punishment, whom ye thought unworthy to live among men for their doings. And those who have not offended the King, but defended his realm, & by obedience of service sought to punish the disobedient, and for safeguard of every man put themselves under duty of law, those have ye miserably and cruelly slain, and bathed you in their blood, whose doings ye should have followed: and so have appaired the Commonwealth, both by destruction of good men, and also by increase of Rebels. And how can that Commonwealth by any means endure, wherein every man without authority, may unpunished slay whom he list, and that in such case, as those who be slain show themselves most noble of courage, and most ready to serve the King and the Commonwealth, and those as do slay be most villainous and traitorous Rebels that any commonwealth did ever sustain. For a city & a Province be not the fair houses and the strong walls, nor the defence of any engine, but the living bodies of men, being able in number and strength to maintain themselves by good order of justice, and to serve for all necessary and behovable uses in the commonwealth. And when as man's body being a part of the whole Commonwealth, is wrongfully touched any way, and specially by death, than suffereth the Commonwealth great injury, and that always so much the more, how honester and nobler he is who is injuriously murdered. How was the Lord Sheffeld handled among you, a noble Gentleman, and of good service, both fit for counsel in peace, and for conduct in war, considering either the gravity of his wisdom, or the authority of his person, or his service to the Commonwealth, or the hope that all men had in him, or the need that England had of such, or among many notably good, his singular excellency, or the favour all men bare toward him, being loved of every man, and hated of no man. Considered ye, who should by duty be the King's Subjects, either how ye should not have offended the King, or after offence, have required the King's pardon, or not to have refused his goodness offered, or at length to have yielded to his mercy, or not to have slain those who came for his service, or to have spared those who in danger offered ransom. But all these things for gotten by rage of rebellion, because one madness cannot be without infinite vices, ye slew him cruelly, who offered himself manfully; nor would not spare for ransom, who was worthy for nobleness to have had honour; and hewed him bare, whom ye could not hurt armed; and by slavery slew nobility; indeed miserably, in fashion cruelly, in cause devilishly. Oh with what cruel spite was violently sundered, so noble a body from so godly a mind? Whose death must rather be revenged then lamented, whose death was no lack to himself, but to his country; whose death might every way been better borne, then at a rebel's hand. Violence is in all things hurtful, but in life horrible. What should I speak of others in the same case, divers & notable, whose death for manhood and service, can want no worthy praise, so long as these ugly stirs of rebellion can be had in mind. God hath himself joined man's body & his soul together, not to be parted asunder, afore he either dissever them himself, or cause them to be dissevered by his minister. And shall Rebels and headless camps, being armed against God, and in field against their King, think it no fault to shed blood of true subjects, having neither office of God, nor appointment of ministers, nor just cause of rebellion; He that stealeth any part of a man's substance, is worthy to lose his life. What shall we think of them, who spoil men of their lives, for the maintenance whereof, not only substance and riches be sought for, but also all commonwealths be devised. Now then, your own consciences should be made your judges, and none other set to give sentence against ye: seeing ye have been such bloudsheders; so heinous man-quellers, so horrible murderers; could you do any other then plainly confess, your foul and wicked rebellion to be grievous against God, and traitorous to the King, and hurtful to the Commonwealth? So many grievous faults meeting together in one sink, might not only have discouraged, but also driven to desperation, any other honest or indifferent mind. But what feel they, whose hearts so deep mischief hath hardened, and by vehemency of affection be made unshamefast, and stop all discourse of reason, to let at large the full scope of their unmeasurable madness.  
Private men's goods seem little to your unsatiable desires, ye have waxed greedy now upon Cities, and have attempted mighty spoils, to glut up, if you could, your wasting hunger. Oh how much have they need of, that will never be contented? and what riches can suffice any that will attempt high enterprises above their estate? Ye could not maintain your camps with your private goods, with your neighbour's portion, but ye must also attempt Cities, because ye sought great spoils, with other men's losses, & had forgotten how ye lived at home honestly with your own, and thought them worthy death that would disquiet ye in your house, and pluck away that which ye by right of law thought to be your own. Herein see what ye would have done, spoiled the King's majesty's subjects, weakened the King's strength, overthrown his towns, taken away his munition, drawn his subjects to like rebellion, yea and as it is among foreign enemies in sacking of Cities, no doubt thereof, ye would have fallen to slaughter of men, ravishing of wives, deflowering of Maidens, chopping of children, firing of houses, beating down of streets, overthrowing of all together. For what measure have men in the increase of madness, when they cannot at the beginning stay themselves from falling into it. And if the besetting of one house to rob it, be justly deemed worthy death, what shall we think of them that besiege whole Cities for desire of spoil? We live under a King to serve him at all times, when he shall need our strength, and shall ye then not only withdraw yourselves, which ought as much to be obedient as we be, but also violently pluck other away too, from the duty unto the which by God's commandment all subjects be straightly bound, and by all laws every nation is naturally led? The towns be not only the ornament of the realm, but also the seat of Merchants, the place of handicrafts, that men scattered in Villages, & needing divers things, may in little room know where to find their lack. To overthrow them then, is nothing else but to waste your own commodities, so that when ye would buy a necessary thing for money, ye could not tell where to find it. Munition serveth the King, not only for the defence of his own, but also for the invasion of his enemy. And if ye will then so straightly deal with him, that ye will not let him so much as defend his own, ye offer him double injury, both that ye let him from doing any notable fact abroad, and also that ye suffer not him quietly to enjoy his own at home. But herein hath notably appeared, what Cities have faithfully served and suffered extreme danger, not only of goods, but also of famine & dearth, rather than to suffer the King's enemies to enter: and what white-livered Cities have not only not withstood them, but also with shame favoured them, and with mischief aided them. And I would I might praise herein all Cities alike, which I would do, if all were like worthy. For than I might show more faith in subjects, than strength in Rebels, and testify to men to come, what a general faith every city bare to the King's Majesty, whose age although it were not fit to rule, yet his subjects hearts were willing to obey: thinking not only of his hope, which all men conceive hereafter to be in him, but also of the just kind of government, which in his minority his council doth use among them. And here, how much, and how worthily may Exeter be commended? which being in the midst of Rebels, unvictualled, unfurnished, unprepared for so long a siege, did nobly hold out the continual and dangerous assault of the rebel. For they sustained the violence of the rebel, not only when they had plenty enough of victual, but also eleven or twelve days after the extreme famine came on them, and living without bread, were in courage so manful, and in duty so constant, that they thought it yet much better to die the extreme death of hunger, showing truth to their King, and love to their country, than to give any place to the rebel, and favour him with aid, although they might have done it with their less danger. Whose example, if Norwich had followed, & had not rather given place to traitor Ket, than to keep their duty; and had not sought more safeguard than honesty, and private hope more than common quietness, they had ended their rebellion sooner, and escaped themselves better, and saved the loss of the worthy Lord Sheffeld, in whom was more true service for his life, then in them for their goods. And although this cannot be spoken against certain honest that were amongst them, whose praise was the greater, because they were so few: yet the greater number was such, that they not only obeyed the rebel for fear, but also followed him for love, and did so traitorously order the King's band under my Lord marquess, that they suffered more damage out of their houses by the townsmen, than they did abroad by the Rebels. Whose fault, as the King's majesty may pardon, so I would either the example might be forgotten, that no city might hereafter follow the like, or the deed be so abhorred, that other hereafter would avoid the like shame, and learn to be noble by Exeter, whose truth doth not only deserve long praises, but also great reward.  
Who then that would willingly defend ye, can say any thing for ye, which have so diversely faulted, so traitorously offended, not only against private men severally, but also generally against whole towns: and that after such a sort, as outward enemies, full of deadly feud, could not more cruelly invade them. And thus the King's majesty dishonoured, his council disobeyed, the goods of the poor spoiled, the houses of the wealthy sacked, honest men's bodies imprisoned, worthy men's personages slain, Cities besieged and threatened, and all kind of things disordered: can ye without tears and repentance hear spoken of, which without honesty and godliness ye practised, & not find in your hearts now to return to duty, which by witchcraft of sedition, were drowned in disorder? Have ye not in disorder first grievously offended God, next traitorously risen against your King, and so neither worthy everlasting life, as long as ye so remain, nor yet civil life, being in such a breach of common quietness. If every one of these cannot by themselves pluck you back from these your lewd & outrageous enterprises, yet let altogether stir ye, or at least be a fearful example to other, to beware by your unmeasurable folly, how they do so far provoke God, or offend man, and find by your mistemper to be themselves better ordered, and learn still to obey, because they would not repent, and so to live with honesty, that they would neither willingly offend God's law, nor disobey man's.  
But and ye were so much bleared, that you did think impossible things; and your reason gave ye against all reason, that ye neither displeased God herein, nor offended the King: yet be ye so blind, that ye understand not your own case, nor your neighbour's misery, nor the ruin of the whole commonwealth, which doth evidently follow your so foul and detestable sedition? Do ye not see, how for the maintenance of these ungodly rablements, not only Cities and Villages, but also shires and Countries be utterly destroyed? Is not their corn wasted, their cattle fetched away, their houses rifled, their goods spoiled, and all to feed your uprising without reason, and to maintain this tumult of Rebellion, invented of the devil, continued by you, & to be overthrown by the power of God's mighty hand? And why should not so hurtful wasting & herrying of Countries, be justly punished with great severity, seeing robbing of houses, & taking of purses, do by law deserve the extremity of death? How many suffer injury, when one hundred of a shire is spoiled? and what injury, think ye, is done, when not only whole shires be destroyed, but also every quarter of the realm touched? Have ye not brought upon us all poverty, weakness, and hatred within the realm? and discourage, shame, & damage, without the realm? If ye miserably intended, not only to undo other, but also to destroy yourselves, and to overthrow the whole realm, could ye have taken a readier way to your own ruin, than this is?  
And first, if ye be any thing reasonable, lift up your reason, & weigh by wisdom, if not all things, yet your own cases: and learn in the beginning of matters, to foresee the end; and so judge advisedly, ere ye enter into any thing hastily. See ye not this year the loss of Harvest? And think ye, ye can grow to wealth that year, when ye lose your thirst and profit? Barns be poor men's storehouses, wherein lieth a great part of every man's own living, his wives and his children's living, wherewith men maintain their families, pay their rents, and therefore be always thought most rich when they have best crops. And now when there is neither plenty of hay, nor sufficient of straw, nor corn enough, & that through the great disorder of your wicked rebellion, can ye think ye to do well, when ye undo yourselves; and judge it a Commonwealth, when the Commons are destroyed; & seek your hap by unhappiness; and esteem your own loss, to be your own forwardness, and by this judgement show yourselves, how little you understand other men's matters, when ye can scarcely consider the weightiest f your own? Hath not the hay this year, as it rose from the ground, so rotted to the ground again? and where it was wont by men's seasonable labour, to be taken in due time, and then serve for the maintenance of horse and cattle, wherewith we live, now by your disordered mischief hath been by men's idleness and undutifulness, let alone untouched: & so neither serveth the poor to make money of, nor any cattle to live with. The corn was sown with labour, and the ground tilled for it with labour, and looked to be brought home again with labour, and for lack of honest labourers, is lost on the ground: the owners being loiterers, and seeking other men's, have lost their own, and hoping for mountains, lacked their present thrift, neither obtaining that they sought, nor seeking that they ought. And how shall men live when the maintenance of their provision is lacking? For labouring and their old store is wasted by wildness of sedition, and so neither spare the old nor save the new. How can men be fed then, or beasts live, when as such wasteful negligence is miserably used, and mispending the time of their profit, in shameful disorder of inobedience, they care not greatly what becomes of their own, because they intend to live by other men's? Hay is gone, corn is wasted, straw is spoiled: what reckoning of harvest can ye make, either for the aid of others, or for the relief of yourselves? And thus have ye brought in one kind of misery, which if ye saw before, as ye be like to feel after, although ye had hated the Commonwealth, yet for love of yourselves, ye would have avoided the great enormity thereof, into the which ye wilfully now have cast in yourselves.  
Another no less is, that such plenty of victual, as was abundantly in every quarter, for the relief of us all, is now all wastefully and unthriftfully spent, in maintaining you unlawful Rebels, and so with disorder all is consumed, which with good husbandry might long have endured. For so much as would have served a whole year at home, with diligent & skilful heed of husbandry, that is wilfully wasted in a month in the Camp, through the ravening spoil of villainy. For what is unordered plenty, but a wasteful spoil? whereof the inconvenience is so great, as ye be worthy to feel, & bringeth in more hardness of living, greater dearth of all things, and occasioneth many causes of diseases. The price of things must needs increase much, when the number of things waxeth less, and by scarcity be inhansed, and compelleth men to abate their liberality in house, both to their own, and also to strangers. And where the rich wanteth, what can the poor find? who in a common scarcity, liveth most scarcely, and feeleth quickliest the sharpness of starving, when every man for lack is hungerbitten: which if ye had well remembered before, as ye now may after perceive, ye would not I think so stiffneckedly have resisted, and endangered yourself in the storm of famine, whereof ye most likely must have the greatest part, which most stubbornly resisted, to your own shame and confusion.  
Experience teacheth us, that after a great dearth, cometh a great death, for that when men in great want of meat eat much ill meat, they fill their bodies with ill humours, and cast them from their state of health, into a subjection of sickness, because the good blood in the body is not able to keep his temper for the multitude of the ill humours that corrupteth the same. And so grow great and deadly plagues, and destroy great numbers of all sorts, sparing no kind that they light on, neither respecting the poor with mercy, nor the rich with favour. Can ye therefore think herein, when ye see decay of victuals, the rich pinch, the poor famish, the following of diseases, the greatness of death, the mourning of widows, the pitifulness of the fatherless, and all this misery to come through your unnatural misbehaviour, that ye have not dangerously hurt the Commons of your country, with a doleful and an uncurable wound? These things being once felt in the Commonwealth, as they must needs be, every man seeth by and by what followeth, a great diminishment of the strength of the realm, when the due number that the realm doth maintain is made less, and thereby we be made rather a prey for our enemies, than a safety for ourselves.  
And how can there be but a great decay of people at the length, when some be overthrown in war, some suffer for punishment, some pine for famine, some die with the camps diet, some be consumed with sickness. For although you think yourselves able to match with a few unprepared Gentlemen, & put them from their houses, that ye might gain the spoil, do ye judge therefore yourselves strong enough, not only to withstand a King's power, but also to overthrow it? Is it possible that ye should have so mad a frenzy in your head, that ye should think the number ye see so strong, that all ye see not, should not be able to prevail to the contrary? With what reason could ye think, that if ye bode the hot brunt of battle, but ye must needs feel the smart, specially the King's power coming against you, which if ye fear not, belike ye know not the force thereof? And so much the greater number is lost in the realm, that both the overcommer, and the overcommed be parties, although unlike, of one realm: and what loss is, not only of either side, but of both, that doth plainly redown to the whole. Then where so great and so horrible a fault is committed, as worse cannot be mentioned of, from the beginning, and bringeth in withal such penury, such weakness, such disorder in the Commonwealth, as no mischief beside could do the like: can any man think with just reason that all shall escape unpunished, that shall escape the sword; & not many for terror and example sake, should be looked unto, who have been either great doers in such a disordered villainy, or great counsellors to such an outgrown mischief, seeing the only remedy of redressing wilful faults, is a just and a severe punishment of such, whose naughty deeds good men ought to abhor for duties sake, & ill men may dread for like punishments sake: and a free licence to do mischief unpunished, is so dangerous, that the sufferance of one, is the occasion of the fall of a great number; and womanish pity to one, is a deceitful cruelty to the whole, enticing them to their own destruction by sufferance, which would have avoided the danger by fore-punishment.  
And in such a barrenness of victual, as must needs come after so ravening a spoil, it must needs be, that some, though few, shall be so nipped with eagerness of famine, that they shall not recover again themselves out of so fretting a danger. So in a general weakness, where all shall be feebled, some must needs die, and so diminish the number, and abate such strength, as the realm defended itself withal afore. Which occasion of never so few, coming of so great a cause, if ye should make just amends for, not of recompense, which ye could not; but of punishment, which ye ought, how many, how divers, and how cruel deaths, ought every one of ye often suffer? How many came to the Camps from long labour to sudden ease, and from mean fare to stroying of victual, and so fell in a manner unawares, to such a contrary change, that nature herself abiding never great and sudden changes, cannot bear it without some grounds entered of diseases to come, which uncircumspect men shall sooner feel than think of, and then will scarcely judge the cause, when they shall be vexed with the effect. It is little marvel that idleness, and meat of another man's charge, will soon feed up & fat likely men: but it is great marvel if idleness & other men's meat do not abate the same by sickness again, & specially coming from the one, and going to the other, contrary in those who violently seek to turn in a moment, the whole realm to the contrary. For while their mind changeth from obedience to unruliness, and turneth itself from honesty to wildness, and their bodies go from labour to idleness, from small fare to spoil of victual, and from beds in the night to cabins, and from sweet houses to stinking camps, it must needs be by changing of affections which alter the body, and by using of rest that filleth the body, and glutting of meats which weakeneth the body, & with cold in the nights which acrazeth the body, & with corrupt air which infecteth the body, that there follow some grievous tempest, not only of contagious sickness, but also of present death to the body.  
The greatest pluck of all, is that vehemence of plague, which naturally followeth the dint of hunger, which when it entreth once among men, what darts of pangs, what throws of pains, what shouts of death doth it cast out, how many fall, not astonished with the sickness, but fretted with the pain, how beateth it down, not only small towns, but also great countries?  
This when ye see light first on your beasts, which lack fodder, and after fall on men, whose bodies gape for it, and see the scarceness of men to be by this your foul enterprise, and not only other men touched with plagues, but also your own house stung with death, and the plague also raised of your rising, to fire yourselves, can ye think to be any other, but manquellors of other, and murderers of yourselves, and the principals of the overthrow of so great a number, as shall either by sword or punishment, famine, or some plague, or pestilence be consumed, and wasted out of the Commonwealth? And seeing he that decayeth the number of Cottages, or ploughs in a town, seemeth to be an enemy to the Commonwealth, shall we not count him, not only an enemy, but also a murderer of his country, who by harebrained unruliness, causeth the utter ruin, and pestilent destruction of so many thousand men? Grant this folly then and oversight to be such as worthily ye may count it, and I shall go further in declaring of other great inconveniences, which your dangerous & furious misbehaviour hath hurtfully brought in, seeing divers honest and true dealing men, whose living is by their own provision, hath come so aforehand by time, that they have been able well, to live honestly in their houses, and pay besides their rents of their farms truly, & now have by your cruelty and abhorred insurrections lost their goods, their cattle, their harvest, which they had gotten before, and wherewith they intended to live hereafter, and now be brought to this extremity, that they be neither able to live, as they were wont at home afore, nor to pay their accustomable rent at their due time. Whereby they be brought into trouble and unquietness, not only musing what they have lost by you, but also cursing you by whom they have lost it, and also in danger of losing their holds at their Lord's hands, except by pity they show more mercy than the right of the law will grant by justice. And what a grief is it to an honest man, to labour truly in youth, & to gain painfully by labour, wherewith to live honestly in age, and to have this, gotten in long time, to be suddenly reached away by the violence os sedition? which name he ought to abhor by itself, although no misery of loss followed to him thereby. But what greater grief ought seditious Rebels to have themselves, who if they be not stricken with punishment, yet ought to pine in conscience, and melt away with the grief of their own faults, when they see innocents and men of true service, hindered and burdened with the hurt of their rebellion, and who in a good Commonwealth, should for honesties sake prosper, they by these Rebels only means, be cast so behind the hand, as they cannot recover easily again by their own truth, that which they have lost by those traitors mischief. And if unjust men ought not so to be handled at any man's hands, but only stand to the order of a law, how much more should true and faithful subjects, who deserve praise, feel no unquietness, nor be vexed with sedition, who be obediently in subjection, but rather seek just amends at false Rebels hands, and by law obtain that they lost by disorder, and so constrain you to the uttermost, to pay the recompense of wrongful losses, because ye were the authors of these wrongful spoils. Then would ye soon perceive the commonwealths hurt, not when others felt it who deserved it not, but when you smarted who caused it, and stood not & looked upon other men's losses, which ye might pity, but tormented with your own, which ye would lament.  
Now I am past this mischief, which ye will not hereafter deny, when ye shall praise other men's foresight, rather than your wicked doings, in bewailing the end of your fury in whose beginning ye now rejoice. What say ye to the number of vagabonds and loitering beggars, which after the overthrow of your camp and scattering of this seditious number, will swarm in every corner of the Realm, and not only lie loitering under hedges, but also stand sturdily in Cities, and beg boldly at every door, leaving labour which they like not, and following idleness which they should not. For every man is easily and naturally brought from labour to ease, from the better to the worse, from diligence to sloathfulness, and after wars it is commonly seen, that a great number of those which went out honest, return home again like roisters, and as though they were burnt to the wars bottom, they have alltheir life after an unsavoury smack thereof, and smell still toward day-sleepers, pursepickers, high-way-robbers, quarrel-makers, yea and bloudsheders too. Do we not see commonly in the end of wars more robbing, more begging, more murdering than before, and those to stand in the high way to ask their alms, whom ye be afraid to say nay unto honestly, lest they take it away from you violently, and have more cause to suspect their strength, then pity their need. Is it not then daily heard, how men be not only pursued, but utterly spoiled, and few may ride safe by the King's way, except they ride strong, not so much for fear of their goods, which men esteem less, but also for danger of their life, which every man loveth. Work is undone at home, and loiterers linger in streets, lurk in alehouses, range in highways, valiant beggars play in towns, & yet complain of need, whose staff if it be once hot in their hand, or sluggishness bred in their bosoms, they will never be allured to labour again, contenting the themselves better with idle beggary, then with honest and profitable labour. And what more noisome beasts to be in a Commonwealth? Drones in Hives suck out the honey, a small matter, but yet to be looked on by good husbands. Caterpillars destroy the fruit, an hurtful thing and well shifted for, by a diligent overseer. Divers vermin destroy corn, kill Pullein, engines and snares be made for them. But what is a loiterer? A sucker of honey, a spoiler of corn, a destroyer of fruit, nay a waster of money, a spoiler of victual, a sucker of blood, a breaker of orders, a seeker of breaks, a queller of life, a basilisk of the Commonwealth, which by company & sight, doth poison the whole country, & staineth honest minds, with the infection of his venom, and so draweth the Commonwealth to death and destruction. Such is the fruit of your labour, and travel for your pretenced Commonwealth, which justice would no man should taste of but yourselves, that ye might truly judge of your own mischief, and fray other by example from presuming the like. When we see a great number of flies in a year, we naturally judge it like to be a great plague, & having so great a swarming of loitering vagabonds, ready to beg and brawl at every man's door, which declare a greater infection, can we not look for a grievouser and perillouser danger than the plague is? Who can therefore otherwise deem; but this one deadly hurt, where with the Commonwealth of our nation is wounded, beside all other is so pestilent, that there can be no more hurtful thing in a well governed state, nor more thrown into all kind of vice and unruliness, and therefore this your sedition is not only most odious, but also most horrible, that hath spotted the whole country with such a stain of idleness.  
There can be no end of faults, if a man rehearse all faults that do necessary follow this unruly sturdiness. For not only vagabonds wandering and scattering themselves for mischief, shall run in a man's eyes, but also disorder of every degree, shall enter in into a man's mind, & shall behold hereby the Commonwealth miserably defaced by you, who should as much as other, have kept yourselves in order in it. Neither be the Magistrates duly obeyed, nor the laws justly feared, nor degrees of men considered, nor Masters well served, nor Parents truly reverenced, nor Lords remembered of their tenants, nor yet other natural, or civil Law much regarded. And it is plainly unpossible that that country shall well stand in government, & the people grow to wealth, where order in every state, is not fitly observed, and that body cannot be without much grief of inflammation, where any least part is out of joint, or not duly set in his own natural place. Wherefore order must be kept in the Commonwealth like health in the body, and all the drift of policy looketh to this end, how this temper may be safely maintained, without any excess of unmeasurableness, either of the one side or of the other. And easy enough it is to keep the same, when it is once brought into the mean, and to hold it in the stay it is found in, but when it bursteth out once with a vehemence, & hath gotten into an unruly disorder, it spreadeth so fast, & overfloweth all honest men's resisting so violently, that it will be hard to recover the breach of long time again, except with great and wise counsel, which no doubt shall be in season used, there be wonderful remedies sought therefore. And even as a man falling, is easier holden up by stay, than when he is fallen down, he is able to rise again, so is the Commonwealth slipping, by the foresight of wisdom, better kept from ruin, than when it is once fallen into any kind of misery, the same may be called again to the old and former state. Do we not evidently know, that a man may, better keep his arm or his leg from breaking or falling out of joint, afore hurt come to it, then after the hurt, it may safely and quietly be healed, & restored to the former strength and health again? And now through your seditious means, things that were afore quiet and in good order, laws feared and obeyed, subjects ruled & kept in duty, be all now in a great disorder, and like if it be not holpen, to grow to wildness, and a beastliness, seeing that neither common duty can be kept, which nature prescribeth, nor common law can be regarded, which policy requireth. How can ye keep your own if ye keep no order, your wife and children, how can they be defended from other men's violence, if ye will in other things break all order, by what reason would ye be obeyed of yours as servants, if ye will not obey the King as subjects, how would ye have others deal orderly with you, if ye will use disorder against all others? Seeing then there is such a confusion now of things, such a turmoil of men, such a disorder of fzashions, who can look to live quietly a great while, who can think but that ye have miserably tossed the commonwealth, and so vexed all men with disorder, that the inconvenience hereof, cannot only nip others, but also touch you.  
But now see how that not only these unlooked for mischiefs, have heavily grown on ye, but also those commodities which ye thought to have holpen yourselves and others by, be not only hindered but also hurt thereby. The King's majesty by the advice &c. intended a just reformation, of all such things as poor men could truly show themselves oppressed with, thinking equality of justice, to be the Diadem of his kingdom, and the safeguard of his commons. Which was not only intended by wisdom, but also set on with speed, and so entered into a due considering of all states, that none should have just cause to grudge against the other, when as every thing rightfully had, nothing could be but unrightfully grudged at. And this would have been done, not only with your glad and willing assent, but also been done by this day almost throughout the whole realm, so that quietly it had been obtained without inconvenience, & speedily without delay. And whatsoever had been done by the King's majesty's authority, that would by right have remained for ever, and so taken in law, that the contrary party, neither could by justice, neither would by boldness, have enterprised the break thereof. But least wicked men should be wealthy, and they whose hearts be not truly bent to obedience, should obtain at the King's hand, that they deserved not in a Commonwealth, ye have marvellously & worthily hurt yourselves, and graciously provided except the King's goodness be more unto you then your own deserts can claim, that ye be not so much worthy as to be benefitted in any kind, as ye be worthy to lose that ye have on every side. Ye have thought good to be your own reformers belike, not only unnaturally mistrusting the King's justice, but also cruelly and uncivilly dealing with your own neighbours. Wherein I would as ye have hurt the whole realm, so ye had not enterprised a thing most dangerously to yourselves, and most contrary to the thing ye intended. If ye had let things alone, thought good by yourselves to be redressed, & dutifully looked for the performance of that the King's majesty promised reformation, they should not have been undone at this time, as in a great sort of honest places they be, nor those countries who for their quietness be most worthy to be looked on, should have been unprovided for at this day. But this commodity hath happened by the way, that it is evidently known by your mischief, that others duty, who be most true to the King, and most worthy to be done for, and who be most pernicious and traitorous Rebels. And it is not to be doubted, but they shall be considered with thanks, and find just redress without deserved misery, and you punished like Rebels, who might have had both praise and profit like subjects. For that as ye have valiantly done of yourselves, think ye it will stand any longer, than men fear your rage, which cannot endure long, and that ye shall not then bide the rigor of the law, for your private injuries, as ye used the fury of your brains in other men's oppressions? Will men suffer wrong at your hands when law can redress, and the right of the Commonwealth will maintain it, and good order in Countries will bear it? Ye amend faults as ill chirurgeons heal sores, which when they seem to be whole above, they rankle at the bottom, and so be fain continually to be sore, or else be mended by new breaking of the skin. Your redress seemeth to you perfect & good, ye have pulled down such things as ye would, ye think now all is well, ye consider no farther, ye seek not the bottom, ye see not the sore, that ye have done it by no law, ye have redressed it by no order, what then? If it be none otherwise searched then by you, it will not tarry long so, either it will be after continually, as it was afore your coming, or else it must be when all is done, amended by the King.  
Thus have ye both lacked in the time, and missed in the doing, and yet besides that ye have done, which is by your doing to no purpose, ye have done the things with such inconveniences, as hath been both before rehearsed, and shall be after declared, that better it had been for you, never to have enjoyed the commodity, if there be any, then to suffer the griefs that will ensue, which be very many. In every quarter some men whom ye set by will be lost, which every one of you if ye have love in ye, would rather have lacked the profit of your enclosures, then cause such destruction of them, as is like by reason and judgement necessarily to follow. What Commonwealth is it then, to do such abominable enterprises after so vile a sort, that ye hinder that good ye would do, and bring in that hurt ye would not, and so find that ye seek not, & follow that ye lose, and destroy yourselves by folly, rather than ye would be ordered by reason, and so have not so much amended your old sores, as brought in new plagues, which ye yourselves that deserve them will lament, and we which have not deserved them may curse you for. For although the King's majesty &c. intended for your profits a reformation in his Commonwealth, yet his pleasure was not, nor no reason gave it, that every subject should busily entermedle with it of their own head, but only those whom his council thought most meet men for such an honest purpose. The King's majesty &c. hath godly reformed an unclean part of religion, and hath brought it to the true form of the first Church that followed Christ, thinking that to be the truest, not what latter men's fancies have of themselves devised, but what the Apostles and their fellows had at Christ's hand received, and willeth the same to be known and set abroad to all his people. Shall every man now that listeth & fancieth the same, take in hand uncalled, to be a Minister, and to set forth the same, having no authority? Nay, though the thing were very godly that were done, yet the person must needs do ill that enterpriseth it, because he doth a good thing after an ill sort, and looketh but on a little part of duty, considering the thing, and leaveth a great part unadvised, not considering the person, when as in a well and justly done matter, not only these two things ought well to be weighed, but also good occasion of time, and reasonable cause of the doing, ought also much to be set afore every doers eyes. Now in this your deed, the manner is ungodly, the thing unsufferable, the cause wicked, the person seditious, the time traitorous, and can ye possibly by any honest defence of reason, or any good conscience religiously grounded, deny that this malicious and horrible fault, so wickedly set on, is not only sinful afore God, and traitorous to the King, but also deadly and pestilent to the whole Commonwealth of our country, and so not only overfloweth us with the misery, but also overwhelmeth you with the rage thereof?  
Yet further see, and ye be not weary, with the multitude of miseries, which ye have marvellously moved, what a yoke ye wilfully do bring on yourselves, in stirring up this detestable sedition, and so bring yourselves into a further slavery, if you use yourselves often thusinobediently. When common order of the law can take no place in unrusy and disobedient subjects, and all men will of wilfulness resist with rage, and think their own violence to be the best justice, then be wise Magistrates compelled by necessity, to seek an extreme remedy, where mean salves help not, and bring in the martial law, where none other law serveth. Then must ye be contented to bide punishment without process, condemnation without witness, suspicion is then taken for judgement, and displeasure may be just cause of your execution, & so without favour ye find straightness, which without rule seek violence. Ye think it a hard law and unsufferable. It is so indeed, but yet good for a medicine. Desperate sickness in physic must have desperate remedies, for mean medicines will never help great griefs. So if ye cast yourselves into such sharp diseases, ye must needs look for sharp medicines again at your physician's hands. And worthy ye be to suffer the extremity in a Commonwealth, which seek to do the extremity, and by reason must receive the like ye offer, and so be contented to bide the end willingly, which set on the beginning wilfully. For no greater shame can come to the Commonwealth, then that those subjects which should be obedient even without a law, cannot be contented to be ordered by the law, and by no means kept within their duty, which should every way offend rather than in their duty. It is a token that the subjects lack reason, when they forsake law, and think either by their multitude to find pardon, which cannot justly stretch to all, or else by strength to bear the stroke, which cannot prosper against a king. They must needs little consider themselves, who bring in this necessity, rather to stand to the pleasure of a man's will, then to abide the reason of the law, and to be endangered more when another man listeth, than when himself offendeth. And this must necessarily follow if your rebellion thus continue, and while ye seek to throw down the yoke which ye fancy yourselves burdened withal, ye bring yourselves in a greater bondage, leaving safety and following danger, & putting yourselves under the justice of them, whose favour ye might easily have kept, if ye would willingly and dutifully have served. Now the Gentlemen be more in trust, because the Commons be untrusty, and they got by service, which ye lose by stubborness, & therefore must needs, if ye thus continue, have more authority from the King, because ye would be in less subjection to the King, and that as ye will not do of yourselves, ye must be compelled to do by others, and that ye refuse to do willingly, think ye must be drawn to do the same constrainedly. Which when it cometh to pass, as wisdom seeth in your faults that it must needs, what gain ye then, or what profit can arise to you by rising, which might have found ease in sitting still, and what shally ye be at length the better for this turmoil, which beside divers other incommodities rehearsed, shall be thus clogged with the unsufferable burden of the martial law.  
Yet is there one thing behind, which me thinketh yourselves should not forget, seeing that ye have given the cause, ye should duly look for the effect. Ye have spoiled, imprisoned, and threatened Gentlemen to death, and that with such hatred of mind, as may not well be borne: the cause thereof I speak not on, which tried will happily be not so great; but see the thing: set murder aside, it is the heinousest fault to a private man. What could more spitefully have been done against them, than ye have used with cruelty? Can this do any other but breed in their stomachs great grudge of displeasure toward you, and engender such an hatred, as the weaker and the sufferer must needs bear the smart thereof. The King's best kind of government is so to rule his subjects, as a father ordereth his children, and best life of obedient subjects is one to behave himself to another as though they were brethren under the King their father. For love is not the knot only of the Commonwealth, whereby divers parts be perfectly joined together in one politic body, but also the strength and might of the same, gathering together into a small room with order, which scattered would else breed confusion and debate. Dissension we see in small houses, and thereby may take example to great commonwealths, how it not only decayeth them from wealth, but also abateth them from strength. Think small examples to take place in great matters, and the like though not so great to follow in them both, and thereby learn to judge of great things unknown, by small things perceived. When brethren agree not in a house, goeth not the weakest to the walls? and with whom the father taketh part withal, is not he the likest to prevail? Is it not wisdom for a younger brother, after the good will of the parents, to seek his eldest brothers favour, who under them is most able to do for him? To seek them both with honesty is wisdom, to lose them both by sullenness is madness. Hath there not been daily benefits from the gentlemen to you, in some, more, and in some less, but in none considered; which they have more friendly offered, than you have gently requited. This must ye lose, when ye will not be thankful, and learn to gain new good will by desert, when ye forsake the old friendship unprovoked. And ye must think that living in a commonwealth together, one kind hath need of an other, and yet a great sort of you more need of one gentleman, than one gentleman of a great sort of you: and though all be parts of one commonwealth, yet all be not like worthy parts, but all being under obedience, some kind in more subjection one way, and some kind in more service another way. And seeing ye be less able by money and liberality, to deserve good will then other be, and your only kind of desert is to show good will, which honest men do well accept as much worth as money, have ye not much hindered and hurt yourself herein, losing that one kind of humanity which ye have only left, and turning it into cruelty which ye ought most to abhor, not only because it is wicked of itself, but also most noy some to you. I can therefore for my part think no less herein, but ye must find some inconvenience he rein, if you follow your stiffness still, & must needs judge that ye have wilfully brought on yourselves such plagues, as the like could not have fallen on you, but by yourselves. Seeing then thus many ways ye have hurt the commonwealth of this whole Country within, by destruction of shires, losing of harvest, wasting of victual, decaying of manrode, undoing of Farmers, increasing of Vagabonds, maintaining of disorder, hindering of redresses, bringing in of martial law, and breeding continual hatred amongst divers states, what think ye I pray you, judge ye not that ye have committed an odious and detestable crime against the whole commonwealth, whose furtherance ye ought to have tendered by duty, and not to have sought the hurt thereof with your own damage.  
Besides all these in war dgriefs, which every one severally must needs feel with misery, there happeneth so many outward mischances, among strangers to us with disdain, that if there were nothing ill within the realm which we should feel, yet the shame which doth touch us from other countries should not only move, but also compel you heartily to forethink this your rebellious sedition. For what shall strangers think, when they shall hear of the great misorder, which is in this realm, with such a confusion, that no order of law can keep you under, but must be fain to be beaten down with a King's power? Shall they not first think the King's majesty, in whose mind God hath poured so much hope for a child, as we may look for gifts in a man, either for his age to be little set by, or for lack of qualities not to be regarded, or for default of love to be resisted, and no notable grace of God in him considered, nor the worthiness of his office looked upon, nor natural obedience due to him remembered. Shall they not next suppose, small estimation to be given to the rulers, to whom under the King we owe due obedience, that cannot in just & lawful matters be heard, nor men to have that right judgement of their wisdom', as their justice in rule, and foresight in counsel requireth, but rather prefer their own fancies before others' experience, and deem their own reason to be commonwealth, and other men's wisdom to be but dreaming? Shall they not truly say the Subjects to be more unfaithful in disobedience, than other Subjects worse ordered be, and licence of liberty to make wild heads without order, and that they neither have reason, that understand not the mischief of sedition, nor duty which follow their beastliness, nor love in them which so little remember the common wealth, nor natural affection which will daily seek their own destruction? Thus the whole Country lacking the good opinion of other nations, is cast into great shame by your unruliness, and the proceedings of the Country, be they never so godly, shall be ill spoken of, as unfit to be brought into use, and good things hereby that deserveth praise, shall bide the rebuke of them that list to speak ill, and ill things untouched shall be boldlier maintained. Nothing may with praise be redressed, where things be measured by chanceable disorder, rather than by necessary use; and that is thought most politic, that men will be best contented to do, and not that which men should be brought unto by duty. And with what duty or virtue in ye can ye quench out of men's memories this foul enterprise, or gather a good report again to this realm, who have so vilely with reproach slandered the same, and diversely discredited it among others, and abated the good opinion which was had of the just government and ruled order, used heretofore in this noble realm, which is now most grievous, because it is now most without cause.  
If this outward opinion, without further inconvenience were all, yet it might well be borne & would with ease, decay that it grew, but it hath not only hurt us with voice, but endangered us in deed, and cast us a great deal behind the hand, where else we might have had a jolly foredeale. For that opportunity of time, which seldom chanceth, and is always to be taken, hath been by your froward means lost this year, and so vainly spent at home for bringing down of you, which should else profitably have been otherwise bestowed, that it hath been almost as great a loss to us abroad, to lack that which we might have obtained, as it was cumbrance at home, to go about the overthrow of you, whose sedition is to be abhorred. And we might both conveniently have invaded some, if they would not reasonably have grown to some kind of friendship, and also defended other, which would beside promise, for times sake, unjustly set upon us: and easily have made this stormy time a fair year unto us, if our men had been so happy at home, as our likelihood abroad was fortunate. But what is it, I pray you, either to let slip such an occasion by negligence, or to stop it by stubborness, which once past away, can be by no means recovered, no not though with diligence ye go about to reinforce the same again.  
If ye would with wickedness have forsaken your faith to your natural Country,' & have sought crafty means to have utterly betrayed it to our common enemies, could ye have had any other speedier way than this is, both to make our strength weak, and their weakness strong? If ye would have sought to have spighted your country, and to have pleased your enemy, and follow their counsel for our hindrance, could ye have had devised of them any thing more shameful for us, & joyful to them? If they which lie like Spyals, and hearken after likelihoods of things to come, because they declare opportunity of times to the enemy, are to be judged common enemies of the country, what shall we reasonably think of you, who do not secretly bewray the counsels of others, but openly betray the Commonwealth with your own deeds, and have as much as lieth in you, sought the overthrow of it at home, which if ye had obtained at God's hand, as he never alloweth so horrible an enterprise, how could ye have defended it from the overthrow of other abroad? For is your understanding of things so small, that although you see yourselves not unfit to get the upperhand of a few Gentlemen, that ye be able to beat down afore you the King's power? yea and by chance ye were able to do that, would ye judge yourselves by strength mighty enough to resist the power of outward nations, that for praise sake would invade ye? Nay, think truly with yourselves, that if ye do overcome, ye be unsure both by strength abroad, and displeasure of honest men at home, and by the punishment of the God above. And now ye have not yet gotten indeed, that your vain hope looketh for by fancy, think how certainly ye have wounded the Commonwealth with a fore stroke, in procuring our enemies by our weakness to seek victory, and by our outward misery to seek outward glory, with inward dishonour, which howsoever they get, think it to be long of you, who have offered them victory, afore they began war, because ye would declare to men hereafter belike, how dangerous it is to make stirs at home, when they do not only make ourselves weak, but also our enemies strong.  
Besides these there is another sort of men, desirous of advantage, and disdainful of our wealth, whose grief is most our greatest hap, and be offended with religion, because they be drowned in superstition, men zealed toward God, but not fit to judge, meaning better without knowledge, than they judge by their meaning, worthier whose ignorance should be taken away, than their will should be followed, whom we should more rebuke for their stubbornness, then despise for their ignorance. These seeing superstition beaten down, and religion set up, God's word taking place, traditions kept in their kind, difference made between God's commandments & man's learning, the truth of things sought out according to Christ's institution, examples taken of the Primitive church's use, not at the Bishop of Rome's ordinance, and true worship taught, and will-worship refused, do by blindness rebuke that which by truth they should follow, & by affection follow that which by knowledge they should abhor, thinking usage to be truth, and Scripture to be error, not weighing by the word, but misconstruing by custom. And now things be changed to the better, and Religion trulier appointed, they see matters go awry, which hurteth the whose realm, and they rejoice in this mischief, as a thing worthily happened, mistaking the cause, and slandering Religion, as though there were no cause, why God might have punished, if their used profession might still have taken place. They see not that where God's glory is truliest set forth, there the devil is most busy for his part, & laboureth to corrupt by lewdness, that which is gotten out by the truth, thinking that if it were not blemished at the first, the residue of his falsehood should after less prevail. So he troubleth by byways, that he cannot plainly withstand; and useth subtlety of sophistry, where plain reason faileth; and persuadeth simple men, that to be a cause, which indeed cannot be tried and taken for a cause. So he causeth religion, which teacheth obedience, to be judged the cause of sedition; and the doctrine of love, the seed of dissension; mistaking the thing, but persuading men's minds, and abusing the plain meaning of the honest, to a wicked end of religions overthrow. the husbandman had not so soon thrown seed in his ground, but steppeth up the enemy, and he soweth cockle too: & maketh men doubt, whether the good husband had done well or no, and whether he had sown there good seed or bad. The fanciful Jews in Egypt would not believe jeremy, but thought their plague & their misery to come by his means; and leaving off Idolatry to be the cause of penury: wherefore by wilful advice they intended to forsake the prophet's counsel, & thought to serve God most truly by their rooted and accustomed Idolatry. When the Christian men were persecuted in the Primitive Church, and daily suffered martyrdom for Christ's profession, such fair season of weather was for three or four year together, that the Heathen judged thereupon, God to be delighted with their cruelty, and so were persuaded that with the blood of the Martyrs, they pleased God highly. Such fancies lighted now in Papists, and irreligious men's heads, and join things by chance happening together, and conclude the one to be the cause of the other, and then delight in true worshippers hurt, because they judge cursedly the good to be bad, and therefore rejoice in the punishment of the goldy. For they being fleshly, judge by outward things, and perceive not the inward, for that they lack the spirit: and so judge amiss, not understanding God, what diversity he suffereth to blind still the wilful, and how through all dangers he saveth his fore-chosen. Thus have ye given a large occasion to stubborn Papists, both to judge amiss, and also to rejoycein this wicked chance, contented with our mischief, not liking our religion, and thinking God doth punish for this better change, and have thereby an ill opinion of God's holy truth, confirmed in them by no sure scripture, but by following of mischance, which they ought to think to come for the pride and stubborness of the people, who doth not accept God's glory in good part, nor give no due praise to their Lord and maker.  
What should I say more? Ye hurt every way, the dangers be so great, & the perils so many, which do daily follow your devilish enterprise, that the more I seek in the matter, the more I continually see to say. And what words can worthlly declare this miserable beastliness of yours, which have intended to divide the realm, and arm the one part for the killing of the other? For even as concord is not only the health, but also the strength of the realm, so is sedition not only the weakness, but also the aposteme of the realm, which when it breaketh inwardly, putteth the state in great danger of recovery, and corrupteth the whole Commonwealth with the rotten fury, that it hath long putrified with. For it is not in sedition as in other faults, which being mischievous of themselves, have some notable hurt always fast adjoined to them, but in this one is there a whole hell of faults, not severally scattered, but clustered on a lump together, & coming on so thick, that it is unpossible for a Region armed with all kind of wisdom and strength thereto, to avoid the dangers that issue out thereof. When sedition once breaketh out, see ye not the laws overthrown, the Magistrates despised, spoiling of houses, murdering of men, wasting of countries, increase of disorder, diminishing of the realm's strength, swarming of vagabonds, scarcity of labourers, and those mischiefs all plenteously brought in, which God is wont to scourge severely with all war, dearth, & pestilence? And seeing ye have theft and murder, plague and famine, confusion and idleness linked together, can ye look for any more mischief in one shameful enterprise, than ye evidently see to grow herein? As for war, although it be miserable, yet the one part getteth somewhat, and rejoiceth in the spoil, and so goeth lustier a way, and either increaseth his Country with riches, or enhanceth himself with glory: but in sedition both the parts loseth; the overcommed cannot fly, the overcommer cannot spoil; the more the winner winneth, the more he loseth; the more that escape, the more infamous men live; all that is gained, is scarcely saved; the winning is loss, the loss is destruction; both wast themselves, & the whole most wasted; the stren gthning of themselves, the decay of the country; the striving for the victory, is a prey to the enemy: and shortly to say, the hellish turmoil of sedition, so far passeth the common misery of war, as to slay himself is more heinous then to be slain of another. O noble peace! what wealth bringest thou in! how doth all things flourish in field and in town! what forwardness of religion, what increase of learning, what gravity in counsel, what devise of wit, what order of manners, what obedience of laws, what reverence of states, what safeguard of houses, what quietness of life, what honour of Countries, what friendship of minds, what honesty of pleasure hast thou always maintained! whose happiness we knew not, while now we feel the lack, and shall learn by misery to understand plenty, and so to avoid mischief, by the hurt that it bringeth, and learn to serve better, where rebellion is once known, and so to live truly, & keep the King's peace. What good state were ye in afore ye began? not pricked with poverty, but stirred with mischief, to seek your destruction: having ways to redress all that was amiss, Magistrates most ready to tender all justice, and pitiful in hearing the poor men's causes, which sought to amend matters more than you can devise, and were ready to red resle them better than ye could imagine: & yet for a headiness ye could not be contented, but in despite of God, who commandeth obedience, and in contempt of the King, whose laws seek your wealth, and to overthrow the country, which naturally we should love, ye would proudly rise, and do ye wot not what, and amend things by rebellion to your utter undoing. What state leave ye us in now? besieged with enemies, divided at home, made poor with spoil and loss of our Harvest, unordered and cast down with slaughter and hatred, hindered from amendments by your own devilish haste, endangered with sicknesses by reason of misorder, laid open to men's pleasures for breaking of the laws, and feebled to such faintness, that scarcely it will be recovered.  
Wherefore, for God's sake, have pity on yourselves: consider how miserably ye have spoiled, destroyed, and wasted us all: and if for desperateness ye care not for yourselves, yet remember your wives, your children, your country, and forsake this rebellion, with humble submission acknowledge your faults, & tarry not the extremity of the King's sword, leave off with repentance, & turn to your duties, ask God forgiveness, submit ye to your King, be contented for a Commonwealth one or two to die, and ye captains for the residue sacrifice yourselves. ye shall so best attain the King's gracious pardon, save the assembly, & help the Commonwealth, & declare your doings to proceed of no stubborness, but all this mischief to grow out of ignorance, which seeing the misery, would redress the fault, and so recover best the blot of your disorder, and stay the great miseries which be like to follow. Thus if ye do not, think truly with yourselves, that God is angry with you for your rebellion, the King's sword drawn to defend his country, the cry of the poor to God against ye, the readiness of the honest in armour to vanquish ye, your death to be at hand; which ye cannot escape, having God against ye, as he promiseth in his word; the King's power to overthrow ye gathered in the field, the commonwealth to beat ye down with stripes and with curses, the shame of your mischief to blemish ye for ever.  
FINIS.