AN EXHORTATION TO stir all english men to the defence of their country, made by Richard Morysine. ❧   

ALL BE IT THE kings highness is, and hath been a long season in league with all christian princes, and having given no just cause of breach, to any of them, might rather look for kindness, than think to receive any displeasure at their hands, Yet for as much as guile may be, where none can be mistrusted, and deceit hid, where great cause of petition is, me think, when tokens of peace are taken away, and many suspytions of war left in their places, love and dewetie bind all english men, both to say and do, all that they judge to be for noble England's honour, wealth, and safety. I know right well, that the office and part of all good men is, to desire peace, concord, and earnest amity, between nation and nation, and yet if enemies assault us, it might well be accounted extreme madness, and we more than mad, not to avoid our own slaughter, yea though it were with the slaughter of many other. God gave not If men could as well see the danger in a body politic, as they can in a body natural, we should little need any commandment of god, to obey, serve, and love our rulers. Little need any examples to provoke us to fight ourselves, and to leave them in safety, if we could perceive the loss that a country sustaineth, when it loseth a good governor. King David, where as his people was going against Absalome and other rebels, said to them, I will also go forth with you. No sir, saith the people, ye shall not go, for whether we i'll or be slain, ye shall ever be able to have a new host. you alone are counted for ten M. men. It is a princes part, to see that his subjects, have captains, under whom they may show, what hearts they bear to their country, what love they own to their sovereign: A princes office, to provide, that the captains have men well furnished, well appointed, meet to do their feat. And as kings are bound to omit nothing, that they judge will serve for the defence of their people, so is it the bounden duty of all subjects, of what degree so ever they be, to serve their country in such sort, as their prince and heed shall appoint them. He that readeth the histories of Ethenickes, and seeth, what they did for their countries sake, can not but think, that christian men little need any exhortation, to stir them to the defence of their country. The examples of them are so many, so wonderful, that if nothing else moved us, shame me think were moughe to compel men of any honest nature, not to be so far behind them, with whom they would think great scorn to be compared. Let there be nothing else to invite us, to the love of it, beside their deeds, may not shame, if duty be not able, to enforce men christened, men professing Christ's religion, to show, that they have learned as much by Christ, as ethenickes and pagannes took of natural influence? when they had done what they could, spending bodies, goods, and lives to, for their countries sake, how little was the reward they looked for? what other thing sought they, than honest fame, of that their so honest doing? plutarch writeth a strange story of king Midas son. There was, saith he, in this kings realm Phrigia, a great gaping of the earth, moche water swelling out of it, hurling down as many houses as stood any thing nigh. Ancurus, the kings son, borne to inherit after his father, a young man, married wonderful moche to his contentation, hearing of such as took upon them to know, how God's ire might be lenified and assuaged, that this breach of the earth would close again, if some one leapt into it, Ancurus I say, afraid, lest some other should have prevented him, kissed the king his father and his wife, and forth with fell into that gaping earth. This breach did but little hurt, it had sunkyn but a few houses, and all be it men thought it would have sunken more, yet percase it might have gone together again, though he had kept himself out of it. Undoubted it might have done so, but love seeketh no percases, ne useth any delays, where great peril asketh present help. His death was very certain, and he wondrous uncertain, whether by that his death, his country should be rid of danger or no.  
¶ Curtius that noble Roman, did even upon like occasion, the like for his country. If these men had been put to forbearing a little money, their country being in jeopardy, their enemies assauting them, trow ye, they that thus lost their lives, or rather bestowed them upon their country, would have stagard at the giving of a little money?  
¶ The Lacedemoniens slew Xerxes ambassatour, contrary to the law of all nations, which will, both in time of peace & war, all ambassadors to come safe and go safe. They were not long after, very sore plagued with a great pestilence, which they took as sent for that their ultrage. And where as it was thought the sickness increasing daily more and more, that some of them, must of necessity go to Xerxes, and there by their own death satisfy for him, whom they had wrongfully slain, Spartius and Bulides ii very wealthy citizens, went thither, and there desired the hangman, they might be trust up. These men passed little of life where they had but a slender hope, that their death might profit their country. ¶ Gaius Marius dreamt, that if he did offer up his daughter Calphurnia in sacrifice, he should overcome the Cymbriens, fierce and cruel enemies to his country. In the morning, calling his dream to mind, sorry to slay his daughter, sorrier his country should stand in jeopardy, he took a knife, and followed his dream. Erecteus, a man wonderful moche in love with his daughter, upon like occasion did even the same. But to pass over many an hundred histories, worthy all eternal memory, I can not without much my dispraise, suffer noble Themistocles, to lose his praise. This valiant captain, not withstanding he had done more honour to Athens his country, than did almost any other, was in spite of all his memorable victories, banished Athens. undoubtedly if there were any cause, that might make a man enemy to his country, Themistocles had sure a just cause, to be utter enemy to Athens. He was than exiled, when there were few princes, few nations, unto whom, for the defence of his country, he had not done some displeasure. The choice was so evil, the shifts so few, that he was constrained to seek favour at Xerxes' hand, king of the Persians whom he had not long before discomfited in battle. Which Xerxes in love with virtue, taken with noble courage, yea though it were his enemy, could not but highly entertain Themistocles. To be short, there was no man less beholding to his country than he, no man more bound to Xerxes than he was. The king lay sore upon him, oft praying him, that he would conduct his host against the unkind athenians. Themistocles still refused it, and where as the king would make no end of enticing him against his country, he neither finding in his heart to do so, neither intending to deceive a king, whom he had found so beneficial, thought it a less fault to rid himself by poison, than to go with an army against his native country.  
¶ Cretinus Magnesius his country being at war with king Mithridates, gave his assent, that one called Hermias his great enemy, should be captain against Mithridates, promising by solemn protestation, that he would in the mean season banish himself his country, lest there might rise some tumult & business by their two factions. But Hermias, knowing Cretinus to be the better capitain of both, for the love he bore to his country, gave that honour to his enemy, and after banished himself his country, till the war was at an end. Percase the bishop of Rome is persuaded, that men here are of two sorts, some yet remaining his true friends. Reynard his man, may put this in his heed. But I trust they both be deceived. I trust there be very few, but they feel their knowledge much enlightened, sithence this good father, with his trumpery and baggage departed hens, enforced to dispatch his wares in some other markets of fools, Few I think, but being brought from such a sort of errors, in to so many truths, truths that so do quiet all troubeled consciences, but they find great causes, to be glad of the change. The way, that was this many hundred years kept shut, is now, god and the kings highness be thanked, laid open. God instilleth his faith into man's heart, by his appointed ordinance, that is by worthy hearing of the gospel. All men, saith saint Paul, that call rightly upon the name of god, shall be saved. But how, saith he, can they call upon him, in whom they believe not? How can they believe him, of whom they here not? how can they here of him, if no man preach him? how can they preach him, that are not sent? so that we see by this gradation, the only way to the knowledge of faith, to the sticking unto God's promises, is hearing his word. This way is laid open. knowledge approacheth, errors are taking their viage. The bishop of Rome, foreseeing the damages that ensue to him and his, by the coming forth of God's word, knowing also, how much his vantages may daily increase, if errors be retained in all christian kingdoms, doth and wool do what he can, to overrun this way, with a pestyferouse Pool, that floweth out of course, that seeketh against nature, to destroy the heed, from whence it first did spring. The bishop seeth, if we walk in this way long, he must walk to that he came fro, that is, to poverty, to preaching, to humility, and to obeisance. This is it, that wringeth him, at this he fretteth, for this he stirreth all these coals. They are little acquainted with the bishop of Rome's practices, that think, he stirreth princes against us, for any love or desire he hath to advance God's honour. His hole acts declare him to mean all thing rather than that. Who can believe, he would take such pains, sustain such charges, to seek our health and safety, when he treadeth them under his feet, at his own doors, which fain would enter into our religion, and may not? He hath dwelling in his own city of Rome many, that moche covet to be christened, whom he will in no case receive, except they forsake all their goods, and give them hole unto him. I mean the poor jews, which are so spoiled of him, when god giveth them his greatest gifts, faith and affiance, that their sins shall be forgiven, that it would pity an heathen heart, to see his tyranny over them. If it please the holy ghost, to call any of them, to Chrystis faith, this good father, starteth between them, and saith there is a plain text, except a man renounce all that he hath, he may not be my disciple. Is not this a good shepherd, that will not receive sheep, which are strayed from the flock, except they give him money? A jew for money, is made a right christian. And a right christian is taken for a miscreant, for a jew, for a turk, if he refuse to give a pound for that is not worth a penny. This good bishop loved us exceeding tenderly, as long as we gave to him frankly our silver. He gave us pardons plenteously, which brought us far from purgatory, even the next way to hell, but now, that we see his chaffer is nought worth, and therefore will give naught for it, this good father, hath changed his affection, and is so far in love with our souls, that he would with sword seek for them in our bowels. I will grant him for a while, we were, as he and his are, in error, in blindness, if he loved us, as surely he would, if he were our father, as he calleth himself: if he loved us, would he seek the destruction of our lives, we being in an evil belief? aught he not rather, if he were but a good christian man, to kneel on his bare knees unto god, and desire him, our bodies might keep our souls, while we were better instructed? If we were in a wrong faith, doth not he slay our souls, if our bodies by his means, be slain, ere we turn? could he thus do, thus intend, if he were god's vicar? If he loved our souls? if he sought to bring us to salvation? Peter pence make Paul to do as he doth. Our holy father enjoyeth no longer our goods: this loss grieveth him sore, and yet he feareth th'example worse than the damage. He is afraid, lest if god prosper us, that other kings will also pass as much of him, as our most noble king doth. We be gone from him to Christ, which saith, Qui venit ad me, non eiiciam eum foras, He that cometh to me, I will not see him cast out of doors. Let our good father, which in very deed is much meeter to be a hogherde, than a shepherd of men, let him curse, until his tongue fall into hell, they shall be blessed, that god blesseth. Let him order his binding and losing, as lust leadeth him, There is one, that will one day, see his saucy power tied shorter. For what I pray you, is left for pride to challenge, when he once taketh upon him to bind that, that god commandeth to be loose, to leuse that that god in any wise wool have bounden? God wool all subjects, pain of eternal damnation, to obey their princes. This good interpreter of God's will, when affection, gain, or fear of loss will, delivereth all princes subjects from the bonds, that god hath knit them in, and giveth them pardon, that leave their duty, that break God's commandment, and curseth all them that will not follow his malice, and withstand God's pleasure. Peter and Paul took upon them a power, and yet they granted it to be canceled within certain limits, they went not out of their bonds, they would not pass their rails, but said, they had power to exhort men, power to edify, to reconcile, but no power to scatter, to spoil, to destroy. This good father is of another school, a student of Rome, taught in the consistory of cardinal's, where though there be few good made, yet, there cometh fewer good thither, but they depart as evil, as they that be their readers. It is with them a gay school point, without any dread of god, to break that lovely bond, which god hath ordained and set in nature, to hold together, to preserve and maintain a thing in this world for man's wealth and safety most needful, civil ordinawce, obeisance of the members to the heed, of the subjects to their sovereign. What thing is more beneficial unto man's life, then politic order, then mutual society of men, knit together in justice, temperancy, modesty, and honest liberty, one to help and comfort an other. one to instruct and teach an other, in all things, but in especial in matters belonging to god, and such as maintain this society? God ordained kings, magistrates, and rulers, commanding them to be honoured, even as fathers are of them children. This is the first precept of the second table, wherein god setteth a policy, and teacheth the works, necessary unto man's life. He showeth of all things this to be the first, that some rule, and some obey. Obedience undoubtedly is the knot of all common weals, this broken they must needs run all headlong to utter destruction. God will in any case, subjects own this obedience to their rulers, he will they be debtors of this, and never to cease the paying of it. He requireth not only service of our bodies, to be at our princes commandment, but that our hearts, honour and serve his highness, with all love and feythfulnes. Mark how this good romish vicar, supplieth his master's office, he giveth remission of sins, to them that offend depeste in this precept: and curseth all them, that hate not god's commandment. Good cause he can not have to do so, and yet he knoweth, his thrift is paste, if god's commandments be kept, and his curses not set by. Who would think, that god's vicar, could call princes, that were going against the turk, to turn their force upon christian princes, Who would think, that he himself, could be of any good belief, being farther in love with turks, which seek nothing more than the utter ruin of Christ'S faith, then with us, that refuse with our money to maintain his pride against god and his holy word. Errors have set his cheyre aloft, he seeth truth must needs abase him. He writeth, he sendeth, he calleth, he crieth for help unto all princes. If some of them, sedused by false persuasion, shall set upon us, because we have left Idolatry, driven away deceitful Hypocrisy, that thus many years have lain lurking in cells, keeping by force and craft the place of Christ'S religion. When ever had England so good a cause, to fight as now? When ever might we go to field with better hope of victory, than now? Were it possible, that they should have better hearts fighting against religion, against god's word, and so against god himself, than we, that fight for the maintenance of all three? Can they have better wills, to lose bodies and souls, than we to save both? shall they take pain, to come so far, to seek their own sorrow, and we not step out of our doors, to defend our wealth, our country, ourselves? have they, yea can they have greater causes, to hate England, than we to love it? If they pass not of gods wroth and vengiaunce, so that they may bring us into captivity and bondage, shall not we, being assured of god's favour, as long as we favour his word, his name, his glory, meet with these, not so much ours, as god's enemies? I must here say a thing, that I think will make a good sort of us angry at the least. Certes, if we be not, as one reported us, it might make us upon oceasion, not only ready, but very desyreful, to spend, yea though it were a good quantity of blood, in so honest a quarrel.  
¶ Not long sithence, a ientil gentleman, (I might say he was an ambassatour, but then percase men would go nigh, to guess whom I mean) made, at his return home, this report of us, Thactyvitie of Englishmen hath been great, if histories be true, but if I may judge by any conjectures, it is nothing so now. I see neither harness, ne weapons, of manhood amongs them, they have been of good hearts, couragyouse, bold, valiant in martial feats: But those english men are dead.  
¶ If we had none other cause to fight, being provoked with the assault of our enemies, would not this contumely, this spiteful tale, make us show unto such reporters, that as long as english bodies remain in England, they shall also find english stomachs, english hands, english hearts. We see very cowards can evil abide to be so called and taken: and are english men nothing stirred, to be thus counted, and of them, that are in deed but very dastards? What thing had England ever, that it now lacketh, bondage of the proud tyrant of Rome laid apart? Were there ever at any time in England goodlier bodies, cleaner made men, than there be at this day? Were there ever more things to set hearts in courage, than there be at this hour? were there ever more rewacdes for virtue? more? nay half so many, as there be now, sithence England was England? were there at any time more evident signs of god's favour towards us, than have been these many years?  
¶ We many now see, if we be not blinder than beetles, why god suffered such a number to rise in the North, and after to do no hurt to this realm, but rather exceeding moche good. For besides, that such were wieded away, as might have done hurt, if our enemies had come betimes, how did that commotion furnish almost all England, with weapons, with harness, and other things necessary for war? how soon were both the Southern and Northern men in a readiness, wanting nothing fit, either for men that intended hurt to other, either for them that purposed their own safety? How many young jentylmen, that than were ashamed they could ride no better, ride well now? how many, that than lacked almost all thing meet for a marry our, be now furnished for all assays? God undoubted did moche for us, that of so evil a thing, we received so many commodities. harness, bows, bills, guns, with the rest of the furnitures for soldiers, were prepared than. See the goodness of god, that would them all to be prepared than, and all to be preserved hole, sound, unhurt for a better season. They were coming, whether they dare come on or no, we shall see: they were coming I say, against whom our bows ought to be bent, to whose heads our bills own blows, into whose bosoms our arrows ought to creep. Pity it is, that men should be so mad, to covet their own misery, rather than to suffer us in wealth. great pity to see, one christian army against an other. But for as much as they seek to do us injury, and we only to put of wrong, if it be offered, we need not doubt, but he will be with us, for whose cause we be compelled to fight. They can not be to few, that have god on their side. They have a feire bend of men, that have a good cause, a good quarrel to stand in. I will for a season imagine us to be the weker side, fewer in number, of less power than our adversaries are, I will not yet speak of the feats, that english men have done in battles.  
¶ Well, we be not so many as our enemies are, what if we be fewer, yea and man for man of moche less might than they are? May not the sundry promises of god, the manifold histories of scripture, which prove him just and true of his promise, make us little to pass, of what number and strength so ever they be? who so dwelleth under the shadow of the almighty, him, as David saith, god covereth with his wings, and keepeth safe under his feathers. I know saith he, the lord helpeth his anointed, and even from heaven heareth them. Some trust in chariots, some in horses, but we, in calling upon the lord. God can, and oft times doth pine man and beast, even in the mids of all plenty. God when his will is, feedeth, where no food is to be found. And as foolishness, when him lusteth, confoundeth the wits of the wise, so weakness, where god setteth to his hand, worketh wonders, and sturdy strength standeth in no stead. It is the lord, saith Daniel, that on high ruleth the kingdoms of men, giving them to whom he will. God can as well be no god, as not true of his promise. He saith, who so honoureth me, him will I make honourable. In an other place, the same god saith, speaking of king david, because he hath set his love upon me, I will see him rid from all his troubles, I will defend him, why so? it followeth, he hath known my name, he seeketh my glory: and therefore when so ever he calleth upon me, I will hear him. yea I am with him in all his calamities, and will deliver him from them, I will set him higher in honour, send him long life, and show him his salvation.  
¶ God maketh not this promise unto king david alone, but unto all kings, that heartily seek his glory, for as god promised that, unto him, upon consideration, so finding the cause, in any other prince, for which he bound himself to be good unto king david, he falleth not to perform now, that he than promised. We have plentiful examples of this. God suffered the Moabites and Ammonites, to set upon good king josaphat, to trouble him with war. This good king complained, and made his moan. unto whom I pray you? unto the lord, from whence cometh all help, all aid, and succour. What said he? even that that all princes, troubled with to great a force, aught to say, he said thus, The Moabites, the Ammonites, the inhabitants of Seir, are come in battle against us, wilt not thou our god, see them judged, see them punished? We have no might against this great number, that setteth upon us, we wot not what to do, but our eyes, o lord, be cast upon the. The lord strait hard his prayer, putting in jezaiels' mouth these words that follow. Thus saith the lord unto you, be not afraid, or faint hearted, by reason of this great multitude: For the war is not yours, but Gods. On the morrow, king josaphat, after his coming forth toward his enemies, said in this wise to his army: It is not your parts, at the least it shall little need, that ye fight in this quarrel, come forth, stand, and behold the help of the lord, which is with you, fear not, let not your hearts fail you. hearken unto me juda, and ye inhabitors of Jerusalem. Trust the lord our god, and so shall ye continue, believe his prophets, and then shall ye prosper. When he had said thus, he commanded his singing men, with this song to laud god. Praise ye the lord, for he is gracious, his mercy endureth for ever. While they were thus giving laudes unto god there rose a sedition among their enemies, which ceased not, till they were all slain, not one left alive.  
¶ Amasias prepared a great host, supposing through the multitude and strength of his army to vanquish his enemies. The man of god (as they called him) came to Amasias, and said, sir let not the army of Israel go with thee, for the lord is not with Israel, neither with any of the house of Ephraim. If thou wilt needs have them, make thyself as strong to batteyl as thou canst, thou shalt see, god will make the fall before thine enemies. Here Amasias commanding them of Ephraim to return home again, went with his own host, a small number, and slew ten M. of his enemies, and took other ten M. alive, whom the army of juda, carried up to the top of a rock, and so hurled them down.  
¶ King josias, with all goodly reverence, took upon him the defence of true religion, the maintenance of true worshipping of god, he beat down the Idols, he cut down their woods, and destroyed their hill altars. All princes about him feared him, none so hardy as to offer him battle, princes, had learned by long experience, how little greatest power serveth against them, whom god defendeth.  
¶ Ezechias a godly prince, of fervent zeal, still occupied in cleansing his realm of idolatry, was grievously assaulted, by a puissant host of Sennacherib the emperor of the Assyrians, in so much that he was required by him, to yield up Jerusalem. Ezechias turned him from the help of men, to the aid of god, whom he entirely besought, that Sennacherib might be an example to all empires and kingdoms, that the only god of the hebrews, was the true god. he had straight comfort. God said unto him, Sennacherib shall not come into the city of Jerusalem, he shall cast no dart into it. etc. The same night the angel of the lord went into the Assyrians tents, and slew about an. C lxxxviii M. of them. Thus Sennacherib was fain to return home again, where praying to his Idolle, two of his own sons slew him.  
¶ In these examples, who seeth not, how steadfastly god standeth with kings that stand with him, how he still helpeth, when all man's help is passed? Had not Mardocheus been hanged, if god had not kept the king waking? Who would have thought, Daniel could have escaped? how uncredible is it to reason, that Abram, having but iii C. and xviii servants, should vanquish four kings, with all their force and power? how unfaythfulle are they, on the other side, that hearing god say unto him, fear not Abram, I am thy protector, thy reward shallbe great out of measure, will not think, he should have conquered an hole world, if it hole had come against him? God oft proveth his elect, sending them many sore brunts, he leaveth none undefended, that constantly put their affiance in him. How oft was that noble capitain Moses, in greatest perils, dangers, and distresses? Might not reason have brought him in full despair, when he carrying the people of Israel from Egypt, had at his back a mighty, a cruel enemy, and before him the magne see? Moses doubted nothing, but that the sees would make him a dry path to convey his host by. They did so, of raging waters, they became quiet walls, standing still on both sides, giving safe passage, to the Israelites, and abiding proud pharao's coming, whom with all his host they swallowed up, not leaving one alive. It is as Hieremie saith, Blessed is he, that putteth his trust in the lord. God saith even as much by his prophet Isaiah, I am the lord, saith he, who so putteth his trust in me, shall never be confounded.  
¶ What troubles suffered good joshua, Moses successor? What battles sustained he, before he could drive the vii wicked nations out of the land of promission? and yet he knew, god could not deceive him, which said, As I was with Moses, so wool I be with thee, never forsaking ne leaving the. Wherefore his enemies vanquished, he conducted his people into the land of Canaan, maugrey the malice of all those fierce nations.  
¶ Certes, who so is leading his subjects to the knowledge of God's word, to the working of his will, may well assure himself, that god will assist him, though that the tyrant of Rome, accompanied with a. M. legions of devils, bestow all their strength and malice, to the hindrance of so godly a purpose. David, being driven out of Jerusalem by his son Absolom, and such as rebelled with him, broke his grief unto god, not doubting, but he should come again to his right well enough. If he nothing mistrusted, to recover Jerusalem; being lost, and in the hands of his son, whom a great part of his realm, much favoured, should we think it an hard matter, to keep ours from them, that we all have greatest causes to hate? If they trust in a traitor, that can do nothing, but utter his own malice and foolishness, unto whom all examples of scripture, threaten a shameful end, shall we, having a prince our capitain, unto whom god bindeth us to owe all duties, whom god also promiseth to defend, not make this traitorous cardinals bloody hat, cover a bloody pate? Might not th' examples of Chore, Dathan, and Abiron, preach to him, and all that follow him, some strange kind of death? Absaloms' father much desired, that his son might scape unslain, commanding his captains and soldiers, in any case to save him alive: his father would fain have had it so, but god would none of it. David said, Save my son Absalon. joab, chief capitain, hard his commandment, and yet when he saw him hang between the bows, by the hear, he could not but run him through with his lance? King David wept and wished to have bought his sons life, with the loss of his own. But god that beareth no such blind affection, will allow no such change. The father forgave his part, god would in no wise remit his. If deeds may speak, do not so many examples, as we have had a late, preach shameful death to all traitors, to all rebels? Can any man think, but that Poole hasteneth apace, to that that God's right judgement driveth him unto? Come not all they to their confusion, that come to aid a traitor against his country, against religion, against god? Whom I pray you, can he bring with him, but such as english men in time paste have had fair days upon? If they were wont to leave their own countries, at the coming of a small english host, shall we all pass of a few of them? I have hitherto handled the matter, as though we were even as that gay ambassatour reported us: But now I wool a little show, what they have won at our hands in time paste, and how we are now as able as ever we have been, to withstand them, they never weaker than now, never less able to invade us then now. for as our cause is able to enstrengthen all weakness, so is their quarrel able to make weapons fall out of the hands of men strongest. We may say, our guide is not one, that being not called, took this power upon him, he is our king, our ruler, by the will and ordinance of god, he is God's minister, unto whose charge god hath committed this realm, the government is his, by God's appointment, our duties, to obey and serve him by god's commandment. What may our enemies say, to comfort them in their viage? we have taken this journey, by the advise of an arrant traitor, we have a rebel to our captain, we go where god hath appointed us nothing to do. How many more things may cumber them? how few put them in heart to enter among us? what nation can come hither, but we may take ourselves, god being but indifferent, abler to defend our realm, then they to invade it? I will take record of none of our own chronicles. Let us believe but our enemies, let it be true that they say? May we not have better hearts to encounter with the proudest of them, than they to land in our realm? Read Froysarte, a french writer. who would almost think it possible, that he writeth of us? It were right expedient. that young gentle men did oft read their father's noble acts, whereby undoubtedly they may both be encouraged, to the like, and also know the weakness of their enemies. We can not be worse matched, than we have been, and that at sundry times. We that then did so well, our quarrel often times being but for a money matter, can we think now to do amiss, fighting for the defence of religion, the restoring of god's word, the maintenance of god's honour? Who can read the battle of Cressy, and not conceive wonderful hope of victory, when we be any thing equally matched? If noble Edward the third, could vanquish the french king, and almost all the flower of France, they being, as their own writers testify viii to one of ours, what shall noble Henry the viii do, whom god, by all ways, seeketh to enhance? Ought not the battle of poitiers to remain fresh in our memories, where an handful of English men overthrew all the force of France? for as their story saith, there durst none tarry from that field, but such as neither regarded honour ne shame. The french king was taken there, and well near all the nobles of France slain. The battle of Alroye in Britain, may not be forgotten, our country wan there no small honour. For albeit the french men & Britons, ordered themself in their array wonderful prudently, & in their fight very manfully, yet were they all slain, or discomfited. We have also sometime sought honour in Spain, and found it very fortunately. Did not noble prince Edward discomfet king Henriche, usurper of the crown of Spain, vanquyshe there, both the french men and Spaniards, and settle king Peter in his right and room again? Where did the hardy hearts and manly couragies of the english men better appear, than in the battle on the see before Sluse in Flaunders? the fight was fierce and terrible, and our men sore matched, for there were four of them to one english man, and they very expert men of war upon the see. There was no place to flee, none to recoil to, without loss of all. Here the noble englishmen bore themself so valiantly, that they got the victory, utterly discomfeting and slaying all the french men and Normans. We may forget the battle of Agingcourt, but they will remember and are like never to forget, with how small an army, that most prudent and victorious king Henry the fift, vanquished that huge host of french men. How moche to all our comforts, may we rejoice in the memory of the battle, which most noble and victorious king Henry the eight, called the field Des esprons, that is the field of spurs, because both the french men, as that day, left all their defence, and used nothing but their spurs, fleing one in an others neck, and we also compelled to use nothing so moche as our spurs, in pursuing them, that so swiftly fled, in following them, that in no case would abide, in riding after them, that so fast ran away? His highness was than almost with all the nobility of England, yea with all the flower and force of our nation in France: and yet the king of Scots found enough at home, to defend little England. He came, when our strength was out of the realm, he came unlooked for, with great provision, with a puissant army. His chance might teach other princes, rather to govern well, that they have, than to seek, that they can not come by. We that have thus been used to victories, oft beaten our enemies, of what nation so ever they be, can we now look for less than great and high honour at their hands? have not they as good cause, to be afraid of us, of whom they have received so many damages? as we to go with all courage against them, whom we have so oft put to flight, so oft shamed, so oft put to the worse? had we then stomachs, & shall we lack now? had we than cause to do valiantly, and find we none now? was there ever prince, that did, or could better reward the service of his subjects, than our most bountiful sovereign? have not all we, that be Southern men, good cause to show ourself hearty, courageous, valyaunte, seeing that we know, the Northern men, will do what they can, to make a large mends, for their laate fault? I doubt not, but they have much desired, some such occasion, to testify their hearts and fidelity, to the kings highness. They have seen, how mercifully his grace gave them their lives, which the laws challenged as forfeit and lost. We may all trust, they wool well declare to his highness, that he rather lente them lives, than gave them any. And that they have them in store ready to render them, when so ever his honour, his cause, his commandment, shall require them. They being thus set, can we Sothern men, come any foot behind them? Shall they be gladder to wipe away such blemish, as tell upon them, by the crafty seducement of such as are now worthily dead, than we desireful, to increase his graces benevolence toward us? I trust, as we be one realm, so our enemies shall find us of one heart, one fidelity, one allegiance. As god help me, even in the time of the insurrection, I half wished, that some our enemies had set upon us. I did not alone lament, that when both parties were so furnished to battle, there was so unmeet a match, for men to show themself hardy. I had red, and oft remembered the wise answer of Scorio to his soldiers. His host hard that the Romans were at dissension, and would needs have had him, to set upon them, while they were so at variance. Nay, not so, saith Scorio, this were even the next way to make them agreed. And when his soldiers, would make no end of desiring him to go towards Rome, he caused a couple of mastiffs to be set together by the ears, and even when they were hardest at it, he in the sight of all his host, showed unto the dogs a wolf, which as soon as the dogs saw, they strait way, were at one, and both followed the wolf. Men oft times fail of their purpose, and turn things quite contrary to that they intended. There was a good wife, for so we call them that be married, which being very weary of her husband, thought to dispatch him by poison. This woman afraid, lest one poison would not serve her torn, took two, thinking she thereby should quyckelye and speedily have wrought her feat. She was deceived, for where th'one poison alone had slain him, the strife of the one with the other saved him alive. If her cruelty had been less, she had surely brought her purpose to effect. Poison hath put me in mind, here to tell a story done in our time, not long sithence, by a noble man of Rome. I shall little digress from my purpose, for ye may also learn by this story, that men oft times have great hurt, where they look for great pleasure. There is in italy a ientil man, whom for his virtue and noble qualities, the holy college of Cardinals, by entreaty of Paul their bishop, have made capyteyne of the church: his name is Petrus Aloisius, a branch comen of a good stock, as ye shall well perceive by his fruits. This great captain, by chance had to pass by the bishop of Phanes house. The bishop hearing of this, and glad he had occasion given him, to offer kindness unto such an estate, met signor Petro Aloisio, and offered him his house. The capitain of the romish church, was lightly persuaded, to lodge with the bishop. the bishop entertained him, as highly as he could devise. sparing neither labour, in providing all such dainties as might make his cheer the better, ne cost in dressing of them. When supper and banquets were done, the time of rest well passed forth, the bishop brought his guest to his chamber, where he desired him of pardon, that his cheer was no better, trusting though there were nothing meet for such a personages entertainment, that yet he would accept his good heart and will, which fain would his fare had been higher, and is much sorry it was not so. And there he made him the courteyse offer of the italian, desiring him, if there were any thing in all his house, that his fantasy stood to, that he would think it his own, and so to take it. And that he, his body, his heart, and all his, was at signor Aloisius commandment. I knew the bishop wonderful well: he was undoubted, as well learned a young man, as few were in Italy. His style so pure, he in writing so elegante and eloquent, that I dare say, there were not ten in all italy, not two of his age, that could match him. The capitain, after the bishop had bidden him good night, called iii or four of his men to him, telling them all of the bishops offer, saying, I like well this part of the offer, that his body is at my commandment, I intend to morrow in the morning to prove, whether he be a man of his word or no. If I can not obtain by fair means, I intend to use your help, and have it by force. Wherefore be not far of at his coming hither. The bishop came in the morning, to give him good morrow, he did so. The captain thanked him moche for all his kindness, and most of all, that he had made him the night before so ample an offer, saying, though there be many things here, which I fancy well, yet I purpose to take that part of your offer, where ye said your person is at my commandment. Certes I will seize upon that, and leave all other things to you. The bishop sore astonished, knew what his abominable demand meant. and said: Sir I know ye can little fancy, things so filthy, mine age maketh your wisdom to attempt me, thereby to have a proof of mine honesty. No Sangue di dio, saith the captain, I mean earnest, and I pray you so take it. The bishop now no more astonied, but even heart angry, made him a sharp answer. Sir saith he, though I have not made you such cheer, as I would, yet have I made you as good as I could have done, though the emperor had been in my house. for such my good will, I little thought ye would have offered me so great villainy, and in mine own house. but set your heart at rest, I will be torn in pieces, rather than you, or any living creature, shall make me willingly to fall into so brute and unnatural a sin. What trow ye the capitain did here? like a capitain of that church I warrant you. His men were at hand, which enforced the bishop, spite of all his striving, to keep his promise. How happy is Aloisius, that hath such faults, as none his adversary dare charge him withal? a thing to be wondered at, men can not tell without shame, that they do nothing ashamed of. The bishop said, Sodom & Gomorra sunk for this sin, will god see it ever unpunished in thee? though god differ punishment, intending them pain everlasting, whose offences are greater than any punishment here may be thought meet for them, will not the emperor one day see laws made for such sin executed? I trust to see his majesty, ere it be long, I trust to be hard, and nothing doubt, but he will see this ultrage, this villainy, that thou haste done me, punished. I will make an end of so filthy a matter, and trouble honest ears no longer. This captain of the church, provided so, that within iiii. or .v. days after, the bishop was poisoned. Would ye not think this graff came of good sire? his mother was brought a bed, long ere she were married, and his father is now bishop of Rome. Trow ye, the church of Rome, whereof such a father is the head, such a son the captain, is not a dear darling unto Christ? Would he let her be governed of the one, defended of the other, if he loved her not excedyngely? Doth not god rather admonish all princes, how little he setteth by this strumpet of Babylon, whom he hath left in such men's hands? Here I must needs tell, that that I have hard reynold Pole, the Cardinal oft say, and not I alone, but many more, whom I can name, men of honest credit. This Pole, than a pearl of his country, now, a foul pocke to it, went to Rome at his first being in Italy, thinking to have lain there half a year or more. God let me never speak, ne write after this day, If he hath not said, and that very oft, where I have been in presence, that when he had been there iii or four days, and seen the abomination of the cardinals, bishops, and other their officers, with the detestable vices of that city, he could in no wise tarry there any longer. He could not then abide .v. days in Rome. and now, Ambition be thanked, he hath this always in his mouth, Roma mihi patria est, Rome is my native country. Hath not Rome a wonderful virtue in it, that thus soon can bring men at one with vice, in love with sin and abomination? If he a traitor, forsaketh his country, changeth England for Rome, fighting for them, against us, shall we not stick to our country, not fight against all men, in defence of England? They think to work us much displeasure. they may chance to make the rod for us, and we to beat them. Aman set up a peyer of gallows, to hang Mardocheus upon: Mardocheus even by that occasion was made next unto the king in honour, and Aman trust up. There is a pretty greek Epigram, which saith, A poor fellow, being in great necessity, much troubled for lack of pence, got him an halter, and thought therewith to have made an end of his misery. by chance, as he sought a tree, he found an hoard of money. council here he needed none, to persuade him to change his purpose. No, he forthwith laid the halter where he found the money. But he that had lodged his treasure there, not long after coming thither, and finding it gone, and an halter at hand, thought the use of his money passed him, and so used the halter. The bishop of Rome thinketh to have a great pray here, The cardinal thinketh so to, they may chance to seek hurdes, and find halters. They trust by this viage, to win their spurs, perchance they may lose their boots to. At the beginning, who could think, but the lass commotion would have done exceeding moche hurt to England? God ever be thanked, we could scase have wished it better. assuredly, we might wondrous evil have lacked it. more examples might be brought, but the coming of this traitorous cardinal, the commodities that I trust will ensue of it, shall make us mistrust few things hereafter, except we become chaungelynges, and for a trifle leave that we have hitherto godly followed. The devil in an other world might play him, He had men enough, that wrought for him, he then was at rest, but no we he seeth his kingdom is assaulted, and that he must either lose a great portion of his dominion, or else in time bestir him. he hateth always good princes and magistrates, never ceasing to stir up sedition upon them, to bring in enemies, to interrupt that they go about. It is very true, that saint Cyprian saith, The devil, Christis adversary, besiegeth no tents so soon, pitcheth battle with none so soon, as with the soldiers of Christ. Men in errors, men drowned in lusts, in naughtiness, after he hath thrown them down, and made them full his, he contemneth and passeth by them, nothing afraid lest they start. But those he seeketh to hurl down, whom he seeth stand fast. Wherefore, seeing no men are more troubled, none ofter assaulted with greater perils, than they that intend to do truly the office of Christian magistrates, it is exceeding needful, that a kings reason, power, heart, and mind be well defended with the shield of god's word, with affiance in his promises, that thereby he may stand sure, against all storms of this world, against all surges of frowning fortune, against all violent force, not only of men, but of devils. God be praised, we have a prince of invincible courage, whose heart god hath so environed with his graces, so furnished with his gifts, so strengthened with the assured affiance of his promises, that he will venture all thing rather than the loss of his subjects souls. He will rather be at utter enmity with all princes, them suffer the knowledge of god's word, to be taken out of his realm. His highness will in no case, his subjects commit any fornication hereafter with that abominable whore, which hitherto these many years, hath soused all kingdoms in the drags of Idolatry, of Hypocrisy, of all errors. His grace will, their lousy merchants utter no more of their broken ware among us. And as his highness will our souls be out of peril, so I pray you, what king, sithence kings ruled first this realm of England, hath made greater provision for the safety of our bodies? Is it possible, that any his graces subject, can refuse pain, when his highness rideth about from haven to haven, from castle to castle, days and nights devising all the ways, that wit can invent, for our assurance? What charges is his grace at, for the fortifienge of Caleys, Hammis, Guysnes, for the repairing of Dover haven, Dover castle, for building bulwarks in the Downs, bulwarks at Folkestone. What a Realm will England be, when his grace hath set walls, according to the ditches, that run round about us? England will than be much liker a castle, than a realm. His grace hath devised a bulwark in the Camber, a bulwark at Calshottes' point, a bulwark at the east cow, a bulwark at the West cow. His highness fortifieth Portismouth, Southampton, Weymouth, Portland road, Torre bay, Plymmouthe haven, Dermouth haven, Falmouth haven. This once done, what enemy, be he never so strong, will think, he can invade England on those parties of it? Now, that ye may know, his highness careth for all, and not for some, he fortifieth Barwycke, both town and castle, Carliel, town and castle, setting men a work for the repairing of Work castle, Bambrough castle, Alnwicke castle, Scarborowe castle, Powmfret castle, fortifying also Kyngston upon Hul, Grimisbye upon Humber. Lynne also shall be made strong, Yermouth road fortified, two bulwarks set up at Lestoffe. Alborne Hoppe in Norfolk, langer's point, Orwell haven, are to be fortified ii block houses to be made at Tilbery. three blockhouses at graves end, which with many other fortresses and munitions, for this our country, his grace will shortly with all speed, to be set forward. If his highness thus diligently watch, that we may safely sleep, spend his treasure thus largely, that we may surely keep our goods, were it not our great shame, to suffer his highness to travail alone? Is it not our parts, in this one thing, even to contend with his grace, that is, to love his honour, his prosperity, more than he can love our wealth & safety? We might, yea we ought to strive with his grace, and to desire to overcome him, in loving our country. and his highness going before, to the defence of England, can we tarry behind? Where his highness is content to spend all his treasure, content to venture himself for our safety, can we be so unnatural, as not to acknowledge such goodness of our sovereign? can we acknowledge it, and not think ourselves bound to spend bodies, goods, for his highness preservation, though we should receive thereby none other commodity? can we being in moste jeopardy ourselves, not bestir us? Were it not our utter rebuke, that his highness should love us better than we ourselves? we must not think, that we fight with enemies, which will be content with victory, if they get the over hand of us: they seek our blood, they covet our destruction, & if they spare some, yet the sack, the spoil shall touch all men. The turk suffereth men, taken in war, to keep their religion, to serve god, as his laws will. The bishop of Rome, much crueler than Turk or Sarasen, thinketh his victory worth nothing, except he overthrow god's word, except he drive out right religion, except he utterly bannyshe Christ. Honour is offered us, and such honour undoubtedly as never came to our nation, if we lust to take it. I will end with a prophesy, not lately comen out of wales, but found in scripture, in the four book of Esdras. There is mention made of a proud Egle, that so moche took upon her, that all princes, all kingdoms were trodden under her feet. What and whom this Eagle figureth, we can not doubt, if we will believe gods own exposition. It signifieth saith he, the same kingdom, that Daniel saw in his vision, which was the kingdom of Antichrist, the reign undoubtedly of the bishop of Rome. All things spoken here of the Eagle, agree with him as just as may be. This bird. saith the text, made all the earth afraid, all men trembled, at her sight, all thing became subject to it, no man, a long season so hardy, as to gain say her. But at the last saith Esdras, Ecce Leo, concitatus de sylua rugiens, Loo, there came out of a wood a Lion a great pace, roaring a loud, and said to this saucy and mysproude Eagle, I will speak with thee, the lord hath to say to thee, and will say thus, Art not thou he, that hast overcome the other my creatures, which I would have had reigned in my world? Art not thou he, that hast ruled the world in moche fear and trembling, holding it in naughtiest labour, in works most fond, dwelling in all parts of the earth, by deceit craft and treachery? Art not thou he, that hast judged the earth, non in veritate, in falsehood, not in truth? Thou haste troubled the mild sort, and hurt them that loved quietness, peace, and rest, men that sought and taught the ease of troubeled consciences. Thou hast loved liars, and destroyed the habitations of them, that brought forth good fruit, setting idle and drane bees in their places. Thy spiteful handling of the world, the contumely thou diddest unto all princes, is ascended up even to the sight of the highest. Thy pride is seen. God hath looked upon this proud time, and Lo, saith this courageous Lion, his time is at an end, the mischiefs of this Eagle are almost at a point. Wherefore, saith the Lion, appear thou no more Eagle, neither thine horrible wings, nor thy mischievous heads, nor thy ravening claws, ne thy body which is wholly compact of vanities, all vain, the Lord crieth to thee, Always: the Lion, having a man's voice, as the text saith, biddeth the trudge, and why? the cause strait followeth, That thou once gone, the earth may be refreshed: that thy kingdom once fallen, men may turn again to freedom, delivered from thy violent power: that thy baggage cast out of men's hearts, they may hope, to receive his judgement, his mercy, which made the earth, and all the dwellers upon it. While the lusty Lion spoke these words, the heed of the Eagle began to stand a wry, the wings were no more seen, her kingdom waxed weak, feeble, full of travail, tumult, and business, much a do to keep it on foot, all the eagles body was set a fire.  
¶ That proud Rome is mente by this proud Eagle, the text is plain, the circumstances are such, that though it were in doubt, we might easily apply the Eagle to the romish bishop, and to none other. Now by the Lion, who is meant, the text saith nothing. What if I contend, noble HENRY the. VIII. to be this Lion? May I not have many conjectures, to lead me this way? many things even taken of the same place, to make other men think so to? first, as the Eagle hath always been the Romans badge, so hath kings of England ever more given the Lion in their arms: so that it can so well be applied to none other prince. The Venetians give the Lion, but their Lion cometh not out of the wood, but out of the water. They dwell in water, our Lion fetcheth all his force next unto god, out of the woods, our bows, our arrows, are fetched out of the woods. Our Lion, when he rangeth toward his enemies, well declareth to them, that he cometh from the wood. But to go somewhat nigher to our purpose: Who hath told the ravening Eagle, this terrible tidings? Who but HENRY the VIII. our noble and courageous Lion? This Lion, saith the text, is a wind, which the lord hath kept in store, for these later days, both to toss the Eagle and her birds, and also to refresh, refrigerate, and comfort our consciences, that so long a season have laboured, panted, and boiled in fin, still in fear of hell. Hath not our noble king, with sundry blasts of the spirit of god, all to rend this popish power? all to shaken his nest? his seat? his high throne? this wind hath hurled such dust into the eagles eyes, that her heed beginneth to wax giddy, her wings to carry her, she woteth not whither, her claws, to let fall such prays, as she thought to have brought to her nest. This wind, our lords praise be it, hath blown us out of this cruel eagles reach, we feel no more her sharp talendes, which in time past, so gripped our hearts, so seasoned upon our souls. Our country is refreshed, our hope fixed in the judgement of the lord, our affiance set fast in God's mercy. Hath not our courageous Lion, our pleasant wind, blown up a blast, that refreshed us all, when he by his preachers, by his proclamations, broke the chains, that our souls lay tied in, slaves and bond to romish tyranny? Cam there not a gay coal to our hearts, when our Lion said, Hen's proud Eagle, appear no more here in England? Went there not sundry great lumps of heaviness from our hearts, when we that were wont to dread nothing so moche, as the mysprowde judgement of the Eagle, begun to refuse mercy and forgiveness at his hand, and to seek it of him, which made us, and is mercy itself, and the only forgiver of sins? Is not this a sweet breath, that our Wind poureth upon us all? Be not these pleasant blasts? This wind is cited to arise, cited by him, that ruleth all winds, in the four chapter of Cantica canticorum, by these words, Up thou north wind, blow upon my garden, that the smell thereof may be carried on all sides, that my dearly beloved may come thither, and eat of the fruits, that grow therein. Is not our wind up, according to his call, hath not he well blasted his commission abroad? hath not he told the Eagle of her ravening? of her spoil, and slaughter? If he hath done thus, and no prince but he, why may not we think, that noble HENRY the VIII is the Lion, the wind ordained & sent by god, to toss this wicked tyrant of Rome, to blow him out of all christian regions? See ye not, to what honour god calleth our nation? may not we rejoice, that god hath chosen our king, to work so noble a feat? God saith, a Lion shall tear this tyrants authority in pieces. God saith, a wind shall shake him out of his cheyer: shall we not think, this Lion, this wind, to be our sovereign, our king, Which first of all princes, durst take him by the bosom? Let this yelling Eagle approach toward us, let her come with all her birds about her, let a traitor carry her standard: doth not god say, her wings shall be cut, her kingdom wax feeble, the Lion wax strong, and save the residue of god's people, filling them full of joy and comfort, even while the world endureth. Let us, let us therefore work lustily now, we shall play for ever hereafter. Let us fight this one field with english hands, and english hearts, perpetual quietness, rest, peace, victory, honour, wealth, all is owers. ❧