MERCURIES MESSAGE Defended, Against the vain, foolish, simple, and absurd cavils of THOMAS HERBERT a ridiculous Ballad-maker. Wherein, his witless answers are clearly confuted, himself found guilty of Hypocrisy, catcht broaching of Popery, condemned by his own words, and here and there for his impudent sauciness jerkt with the Rod of Correction, to teach him more manners when he writes again. By the Author of the said Mercury's Message. Here's your reward Come up sirrah woodcut of a ballad seller (Thomas Herbert) with his head in a noose, being encouraged to mount a gallows; apparently unaware of his predicament, he is trying to offer a ballad to a nobleman (the Archbishop of Canterbury) imprisoned in the Tower of London London printed 〈◊〉 1641. MERCURIES MESSAGE DEFENDED. OR A Reply to the Ridiculous Answer, of HERBERT a Ballad-maker. IT is a true maxim, verified by daily experience, that the worst of men shall never want disciples, as bad as themselves to stand up in their defence, and approve of their wickedness. Do the Priests of Baal seek to insinuate an opinion in the hearts of the Israelites, 1 Kings 18. that their dumb idol is a god? Why, they shall not want for a crew of credulous spirits, to call upon his name, from morning until noon, O Baal hear us. Doth idolatrous jeroboam set up two golden Calves in Dan and Bethel? 1 Kings 12. there will some of the people easily be drawn to worship. Did the Pope's great favourite William a Canterbury painfully labour to suppress the true worship of jesus Christ, and in the place thereof zealously endeavour to erect a new fardel of superstitious Ceremonies, devised by a pack of deluding jesuites, and preferred to his Grace by the Whore of Babylon, with what facility will a company of indifferent Jack a bothsides, Rev. 3.16. lukewarm Laodiceans, either for hope of preferment, or fear of imprisonment embrace and allow these his stinking traditions? Would you see an example of such an impudent act? Do but look upon the scurrilous and simple Answer to Mercury's Message, and you shall plainly perceive it. joshua 7.25. Here is the Archbishop (who like Achan with his Baby lonish garments hath a long time troubled all Israel) charged with high treason and imprisoned in the Tower by the House of Commons now happily assembled in Parliament: and there is Herbert a poor threedbare ballad-maker writing in his behalf, against the relation of those crimes for the which at this present he is justly sequestered, whereby that which at first was only writ and intended as a close quip to reprove the enormities of the times, and the little great Master of misrule, then and still in coram nobis for his insolent misdemeanours formerly practised, is now become a matter of controversy; as though to blow off the Bishop's cap were to undermine the Truth of Religion, or as if the soiling of his lawn sleeves could not choose but sully the beauty of the Church; and all this maintained by a Poetical Ballad-maker. Well, glad I am to see that his Grace has some friends still left in this decaying time, but sorry their number being so small, their quality should be no better. But whither wander I? Is it possible that such a mist of error should darken mine understanding as to think he wrote this Book out of love to the Mitre, or conscience to Religion? surely no, he that reads the story shall find no such business. But there's a thing called Half a Crown, the ordinary price of his ridiculous Pasquil's, and that was the main motive inducing my moneyless youngster to make such a derided and witless Answer, who (I will undertake) for as much more shall rail more audaciously against the wickedness of the Bishop, than ever that impious wretch Rabshekah did against the piety of good Hezekiah. 2 Kings 18. This I shall clearly demonstrate and prove to his face in the examination of his ensuing Answer. But to come orderly to my Reply, and give an answer to every thing in its proper place, which I shall do with as much brevity as may be, few words being sufficient to confute such an Animal. When first I saw the title of that pretty piece of ignorance, An Answer to Mercury's Message, Musing with myself what manner of person the worthy Author should be, I either took him to be some hanger on at the Episcopal palace in Lambeth, or else one of the Bishop's poor attendants at his Court royal near Tower-hill. Which by the fortune of fates is now made a Bower of Grace for my Lord's recreation in this delightful time of the Summer season. But had every chamber such a Tenant as his small esteemed defender, I believe it would quickly and might justly be called a Cage of unclean Birds. Thus I say, at first did I ruminate upon some brave opposer, but O how mightily was I mistaken therein, for one day being necessitated to pass through a stinking Alley, in a blind alehouse, I heard a crew of roaring Ballad-singers trolling out a merry Ballad called, The more knaves the better company. And one amongst the rest cried out, Well sung Herbert, who as it seems, bore up the base amongst them, and in that deboist manner consumeth his time, and when his money is all spent, (as for the most part it is six or seven times a week) writes a new merry book, a good godly Ballad, or some such excellent piece of stuff even as the droppings of the spigot inliveneth his muddy muse, to put his feeble purse in fresh stock again: looking in at the name Herbert, and seeing such a poor ragged companion, I took him rather to be some dunghill rakers page, than a lackey to the Muses. And so thought to pass by, until upon better enquiry I was certainly informed that he was the Author of that much applauded Answer. And indeed had I took as much pains to have read his lines; as I did to get acquaintance with his honourable personage; I might easily have conjectured him to have been such a fellow, for who but he would so shamelessly & peremptorily (in the very Title of his Book) assert three palpable lies, in two short lines, unless he had thought no body would have read it but as very fools as himself. Certainly, the young man had been in Paul's lately, and fell asleep against one of the yellow pillars, whether it were done willingly or unwillingly I know not, but sure I am he came out most horribly brazenfaced, as by the sequel I shall make it evident. Thus he titles his Book, An Answer to the most envious, scandalous, and libellous Pamphlet entitled Mercury's Message, etc. Envious, What's envious? to tell a wicked man of his faults, A scorner indeed loveth not one that reproveth him, Prov. 9.7.8 ch. 10.18. ch. 15.10.31, 32. Pro. 12.1. Prov. 15.12. But give instruction to a wise man, and he will be yet wiser, Prov. 9.9. Therefore he that loveth instruction loveth knowledge, but he that hateth reproof is brutish, Prov. 12.1. But now methinks I hear you object and say, Object. 'tis true indeed, had the Bishop been admonished of his evil courses privately, it had been something: but to divulge his infamy in print, for every rural fellow to scoff and jeer at: this must needs spring from an horrible root of envy and maliciousness. Answ. But if Sir Thomas Wiseacres can make this his position good by the testimony of any authentic Ballad he hath in his three half penny Library: we may safely conclude Paul to be a man of a lofty spirit, and full of malicious spleen towards Peter, when he blamed him to his face before a great assembly of people for doing some things amiss, as ye may read, Gal. 2. Gal. 2.11. Nay we may very well say that Solomon had overshot his judgement when he writ this among his Sentences, Open rebuke is better than secret love. Pho. 27.5. And thus hath a few boughs cut off from the tree of God's Word, sweetened these bitter waters of envy which were so harsh to be swallowed by Herbert the Ballad-maker. Let me now inquire what makes it so scandalous. Is it possible to throw any disgrace upon a man whose actions have been so ungracious that he expects no other Exit but by an Axe or an Halter? Such an one as by his notorious life hath made himself an hissing and a laughing stock to all England: Can this man be scandalised? as soon will I believe that a bucket of water will slabber the sea, because it makes a puddle in a fair hall; as that a man of a corrupt life can be blemished by ill words, because a man of honest conversation may. But I would very feign have him answer me this one question, whether it be possible for a man to be slandered in a matter of truth. Quest. What I there writ of the Bishop all England will avouch, nay he himself confesses to be true; Where then is all this mighty scandal you talk of? O but then 'tis libellous; libellous, as how I pray? What lies hath the piercing eye of his blockish judgement found in it I wonder? Had he been so kind to have told me, I'll assure you they should have been mended in the next Impression, and that is more than he can do to his I am confident, unless he take it and throw it into the fire, and then cry, Now I hope all faults are corrected. But by your favour Master Herbert though you past them by so slightly without naming, I must a little presume upon your patience, whilst I recapitulate the sum of my Book, to try if I can discover these falsities you accuse me of. I will propound the questions, do you answer if you can. And 1. Quest. 1 Do not our lordly Prelates fear a fall? What's the reason then the great One lies thus caged up in the Tower? and the rest questioned in Parliament for their places? the expectation of all good men being to see these spiritual Lords drove out of their seats of justice into pulpits of instruction, the fit place of the two. Well, Quest. 2 but did they not domineer in prosperity, persecuting Gods faithful people and ministers that opposed their idolatrous ceremonies, setting them them in pillories, cutting off their ears, branding them, banishing them the land, and a thousand other cruelties exercised in the High Commission, and other such unconscionable, illegal Courts, kept by them and a viperous brood of promoters, pursivants, and such like knavish dependants; What was the matter then with those three men, M. Burton, D. Bastwicke, and M. Prin, with divers others redeemed out of several prisons by the Parliament; nay, what means such a numerous company of poor ministers petitions daily presented to the honourable House of Commons that have most cruelly been thrust out of all their lands and means of maintenance and so undone, themselves, their wives and children, because their consciences would not suffer them to submit to such base superstitious ceremonies as were imposed upon them. Did not our weekly lectures and sunday afternoon Sermons begin to go down apace under a pretence of getting infection in the Church of God at Sermons more than at Service: what's the reason then that Ministers durst not preach upon weekdays, nor on the Sabbath in the afternoon in many places for fear of suspension and displeasing the Bishop; nay, what meant little Wren to flutter about so monstrously and silence above 80. in his own Diocese for standing above an hour in a sermon, though they preached but once a week. Was it not the Bishop of Canterbury his chiefest means to persuade the King to set out the book of Toleration for Sports and Pastimes on the Lord's day, thereby to betray both such good Pastors of their flock as would not read it, and deceive the souls of the people that too greedily received it; how comes it to pass then, it was never moved nor thought on before? Were not altars raised and adorned with wax-candles, nay some with Images and Crucifixes? Were not men commanded to bow to them as they went forward and backward, and likewise to cringe and buckle the knee at the Name of jesus, though the Minister were but praying for jesus College in Cambridge, Quest. 7 or noting some proof out of jesus the son of Sirach. Quest. 8 Did not our Episcopal Cannoneers finely run themselves into a praemunire, by making New Canons after the last Parliament was dissolved charging them so deep with an Oath, and etc. that they recoiled in their faces? Quest. 9 And did not these things give men just cause to suspect that the Bishop had more than a month's mind to make a match with the Strumpet of Rome: but all these his projects failing, he being catcht napping in his knavery, and committed to the Black Rod to be whipped for his offences; did not every man that could, Quest. 10 toss a jeer after him? was not scoffs and flouts of Canterbury common in all men's mouths; alas this is so evident that it cannot be denied: and now what's become of all these envious, scandalous and libellous lines? What, all vanished so quickly before seen? or was it some other book you thought on, when you were answering mine? sure some such matter, or else sucking too long at the ale-tap had dimmed your eyes, and so made you think what you writ yourself in your own, you had seen printed in mine; what ever it was, 'tis fit you should be wound up for your doltishness, but I am willing to let you part at a distance, for he that closes with a beggar may expect to part lousy. In the next place, to fill up the Title, we have the resemblance of an arm holding a knife fast clenched, as though you had lately made some desperate fray among the two penny pudding-pies in Fleet-lane, or perhaps you set it there as a direction to your friends to be in readiness to cut the rope when you were catcht in a twist for your faucy poetry. Thus carping Critic have I done with the forefront of your book. Give me leave now having stood so long at the porch, to enter in at the door, and see what ornaments are within worth taking notice of. I am persuaded you are no Pharisee; for if the inside of the cup be no cleaner than the out, 'tis pity but such slovens should have it knocked about their coxcombs. I shall now be more brief in my observations: ye see I have at large maintained the truth of my book against the falsities of your Title, and whether it be done to the full or no, I appeal to any man of honesty or understanding, and let him be judge. But to the purpose: Turn over, behold and wonder, Ha'— what's here? a flat cap, narrow ruff, and lawn sleeves, On the backside of his Title is the picture of the Bishop very ill-favoured drawn, encompassed with a single ring. sure it stands for the Bishop of Canterbury; but I hope his sorrows have not so strangely metamorphosed him; Does he learn to tumble in a hoop tro? perhaps he intends to show tricks in Bartholomew Fair; I remember there was a sight last year called, The decollation of john the baptist, wherein a boys head was cut off through a table; if he study such an art of Legerdemain, he I have great resort to his booth, I warrant him. But for all that, sure the Balladmaker was a little too bold to thrust a Bishop on the back side of such a knavish Title, as if he had not where else to pin his lies but upon father William's Canonical Rochet; truly it was very unmannerly done. But I proceed to the book itself, wherein M. Author you may take notice of your own words, for they shall be set in a different letter, that so men may understand what they read. For your part I thank you, you made bold to insert some 13. or 14. of my lines alogether to credit your book, without giving any answer or putting distinction between them and your own patched poetry; so that oftentimes men looking upon that place without reading any further liked it and bought it, but after they had more thoroughly perused it, will you hear what their censures were, I warrant says one, the author of these hobbling verses was some young Gregory Nonsense, that might have been a scholar had be not run away from Cambridge when he should have been whipped for his knavery: and came up to London to write scurrilous pamphlets for half a crown a piece. Another being taken with a sudden fit of the winde-collicke runs presently and enters this his penny worth into Sir Ajax his Office as a memorial of a sweet strain derived from Helicon. Another buys them by the ream to stop vinegar bottles, and mustard pots: (brave ware for a pipkin Chandler) so that although the Ballad-maker was mad to see my book so well accepted, and so free of sale, having nothing to twit me with, but that men bought it to see my knavery, It appears they had more wit than to part with their money and spend their time, to read over his hotch potch of simplicity. But I must of necessity speak of 'em in their order, and first of your preamble which thus gins. How now what is't which I do vainly read, I'll tell thee what, 'tis that thou hast as vainly answered, whereby thou hast made it apparent, thy reading and thy writing to be all as one, both vain and ridiculous. But let's see what is it in your judgement. — An hypocritick scald, Which did affront true Protestantine Heads, No whit belonging unto Papal Heads. Well, I have read of many, and know some hypocrites, but never heard of a scalded one before; truly sir we should be much beholding to you, in your next reply to give us the definition of such a creature, and how he came into such hot service to be scalded, or else like Robin the ex tempore man, tell us 'twas only to make up rhyme. Which did affront true Protestantine Heads Why heads? I wrote against none but the Bishop of Canterbury, unless it be your meaning to parallel him with the seven headed Beast in the Revelation, that carries the Whore of Babylon a pick-packe, Re. 17.3. me thinks that word had an s too much, but that's a small fault among Ballad-makers, yet nevertheless I must needs tell you your following conclusion is false and very peremptory; No whit belonging unto Papal heads. it would better a became you first to have proved your Patron a good Protestant by his conversation, and if he were no ways addicted to Popery, to have entered into a defence of all his superstitious ceremonies. But instead hereof, you like an ignorant caviller confute yourself in one and the self same page, here you writ, Which did affront true Protestantine Heads, No whit belonging unto Papal Beads. A little below, Each railing fine I do not now intent To answer, lest they cry me the Pope's friend. And on the other side of the leaf (speaking of the same person) plainly confesses him a practiser of Romish idolatrous ceremonies, as bowing to the Altar, hating Sermons, and abusing pious Ministers, I appeal to all the world whether or no this be not a ridiculous self confutation and full of simplicity. But I hope upon a better recollection you'll willingly confess your saucy presumption; otherwise (I pray mark it) I here challenge you to your face to answer me this question. If the Archbishop of Canterbury never had any inclination to Popery, for what doth he now lie imprisoned in the Tower? And before your right goose quill go about it, I advise you to look over his Articles, by which the whole House of Commons have charged him with high Treason, and make not yourself wiser than a Parliament, lest soon after we hear you thanking God that you scaped an halter, to be whipped in Bridewell. But what follows? O, the two first verses of my book, and see if this bold excrement of Poetry thinking my lines to be like his, has not made them both nonsense; My Lord, I call you not what long ago you were, For now those golden days are passed I fear. So in his; but thus in mine, I call you what not long ago you were, But now those golden days are passed I fear. The difference is so obvious to every man's capacity that I shall not need to use any words in its explanation, only this, perhaps lying ever in an Alehouse he was half foxed when he writ it, or wanted a Book when he was penning an Answer; for indeed that was never printed to be bawled by the Ballad-singers, had not some stuttering knave worked another Impression. But what's next. We have a few Which have Saint: like beliefs of which they crack, And such are those which we call Schismatics. Out of which I propound these Quaeres, answer them if you can, I expect you should; 1. Whether every true Protestant ought not to be of a Saintlike belief; 2. whether men of a saintlike belief deserve to be called Schismatics. It follows. And such a one was he who lately writ A Libel to divulge his zealous wit. 'Tis something strange sir, you should be so well acquainted with my Religion before ever you saw my person, which to your knowledge you never did in your life, yet why not? 'tis possible you may be a soothsayer, having already as I am credibly informed by the spirit of prophecy writ an idle Pamphlet, (if not a ballad or two besides) of the life and death of William Laud Archbishop of Canterbury; who was executed, etc. leaving a space to put in the day of the month, which it seems your wisdom could not justly jump upon. But now me thinks like an Herculean sacrificer he vapours as if he were going to whip the dogs out of the city. Hence superstition, hence base Romish weeds, And hence I say all hypocritick deeds. He might as well have said whilst he looked on his poetry. Hence limping lines composed b'a brainsick quill, men's heads with foolish, witless stuff to fill. But now he proceeds, Suppose that he bowed vainly to the Altar, For that must he be hanged with inky halter. With inky halter, O rare expression, worthy to be translated into hempen, and wound about the Author's neck as a monument of his eloquence to future ages; But he at the Name of jesus still did bow, Why not, doth not the Scripture it allow. Doth it so? it would then have been a great illustration to your argument to have quoted the place, me thinks I hear you say, Phil. 2.10. But had the ingenuity of your stupefied capacity been acquainted with the meaning of an allegorical expression, you would as soon have avouched that the Disciples of Christ at his last Supper drank really his blood, because at the delivery of the cup he used these words, This is my Blood which is shed for the remission of sins, Matth. 26.28. I am sure there is no other place thorough out the whole Bible that carries with it so much as a resemblance to countenance this popish ceremony; and this our great Jesus worshippers the Bishops themselves are ashamed to produce; every dull Novice in religion being able to confute it. For who knows not, that there are no knees in heaven to cringe at the Name of Jesus? now if you will take some part of the words literally, ye must of necessity acknowledge all to be so; and so consequently at the same time, whether in the Church or other place, being in the same manner enjoined by the following words, ye must cry out with your mouths, 2 Phil. 11. jesus it the Lord, and who would not condemn this as most absurd and ridiculous. Further note that the text doth not say, Every knee shall bow at the naming of jesus, but at the Name, now his Name signifies his Power, and bowing of the knee subjection to that Power, Acts 4. and this deny if you can; indeed that thus every man shall be subject to the Power of jesus I have often read, and do most faithfully believe; but that we must bow our knees in outward adoration of his Name, every time we hear it pronounced, this is a very false and groundless tenant, contrary to the opinion of all reformed Divines in the Christian world, detested at this present by every true Protestant, proved by the writings of many orthodox Ministers to be popish and idolatrous, and so consequently protested against by the whole House of Parliament; nay the greatest part of England, and must it now be raked up again after such a general opposition, and slily thrust abroad by an ignorant Skip-Iack, that knows no more what belongs to the true Protestant Religion than a very innocent? I intent to try his judgement by these quaeres. 1. Whether the Name jesus be greater than jehovah? if not, how we dare be so bold as to reverence one above another? 2. Whether bowing to the Name jesus when it is pronounced, and when we see it painted on a wall be not all one? 3. Whether this jesus worship being a humane tradition, devised, prescribed, and imposed by the will, commandments and doctrines of men be unlawful or no, seeing Christ condemns it? Matth. 15.9. In vain saith he, ye worship me, teaching for doctrines the traditions of men. So the Apostle, Beware lest any man spoil you through philosophy, and vain deceit, after the tradition of men, after the rudiments of the world, and not after Christ, Coloss. 8. In which two places of Scripture, Herbert's vain question; why, seeing God made the knee as well as the heart, both should not lowly bow to his service, is clearly answered, the one being required by God, the other a will-worship commanded by man: yet see how confidently the fellow stands upon his pantofles, for saith he, Sure Antigenist to me thou'st subscribe If thou in hope wert of a ten pound bribes. O, such a gift would make thee for to saulter, Thou'st buy new shoes, and ske scrape to the altar, etc. Thou wantedst money when thou writest thy letter, And by thy Scandal made thy state grow better. Observe I beseech you, how the poor needy wretch judges of my condition by his own, who I dare say, should his father or the best friend he hath take their ultimum vale under Tiburnes dominions, would write a Ballad on it for half a Crown, and this I shall make very probable by and by in that which his own hands have writ against the Bishop whose cause so stiffly he now maintains. But I must first take some other lines in the way. Thou art some Poet to the short haired crew, Who long since bid to honesty adve. For the first let all the world be judge whether it be not better and more credible to be a Poet to a crew of short haired citizens, that live in fame and estimation among their neighbours, than to a company of lousy Ballad-singers that neither know what belongs to God nor any goodness. As for your locks I suppose they are much longer than your honesty, and that's a great sign that young Derrick must be your barber. I wonder much thy name thou durst not show, etc. It was your modesty, I do suppose, Or else for fear Brandon should get your hose. As for my name I will still conceal it on purpose to vex thee; and trouble not yourself about my hose, 'twill be more requisite for you to have a care of your own three half penny breeches, Gregory it seems has certain hopes of them, having already prepared an oven to bake them in, lest otherwise he add to his store, and increase the number of his six footed cattles. O what an age is't, which we do live in? One doth offend, another laughs at sin. See how zealously the young man runs on, but quite beside the bias, it being not the sin we rejoice at, but the punishment of the sinner, and for this I think we have good ground in the Word of God, Exod. 15.1. to 20. Pharaoh and his host being drowned in the red Sea, Then (saith the Text) sang Moses and the children of Israel this song unto the Lord, and spoke, saying, I will sing unto the Lord, for he hath triumphed gloriously, the horse and his rider hath he thrown into the sea, etc. Samuel indeed sorrowed for the heavy doom he was commanded by the Lord to denounce against Saul, but was reproved by God for it, How long (saith he) will't thou mourn for Saul, seeing I have rejected him from reigning over Israel? 1 Sam. 16.1. But more especially upon the fall of Babylon is there a command of exultation, Rejoice over her thou heaven, and ye holy Apostles, and Prophets, for God hath avenged you on her, Rev. 18.20. Revel. 21. 1. 2. Thus you see it is not unlawful nor irreligious to rejoice at the downfall of Gods and the King's enemies; only this I say and speak it from my heart concerning the Bishop, as bad as he has been, God grant that the humbling of his flesh here, (now he sees what misery he hath brought himself to by his mischievous life) may tend to the salvation of his soul hereafter, in the day of the Lord Jesus. But now my detractor gins to fall something sharp upon me. O brawling Libeler which lately writ Mere blasphemy for to divulge thy wit. Here now he hopes he has catcht me tripping bravely, but sure he's deceived; yet nevertheless second considerations are not amiss. Let me look again therefore, and see if I can find out these blasphemous lines, these he stumbles at. Blest were the man could light on such good hap, To beat out's eyes, with's Babylonian cap. What, what? thinks he (but wants wit to express it.) Say a man be never so vile a sinner, is it blessedness therefore to beat his eyes out presently. I answer, though this were written but as the report of the people, and was indeed common (almost) in every man's mouth, I must of necessity quote one place of Scripture to maintain it, and then let Herbert see what godly Ballad he can make to confute it. Psal. 137.8, 9 O daughter of Babylon, wasted with misery, happy shall he be that rewardeth thee as thou hast served us; yea, blessed shall he be that taketh thy children and throweth them against the stones. The place ye see, is a clear confirmation of the point in controversy; and where is all this great clamour of blasphemy now? But he'll have another bout with the word. Blest were the man, if blessedness it were, Authority of time to stand in fear. Here I would fain know, Or perhaps my Lord stands in fear of time because lately he was pictured running to Rome with the Pope on his back, whether the Bishop of Canterbury (for sure him he means by authority) stand in fear of time only, or the Parliament, or who hath most authority, they or he? Me thinks it is a saucy expression, and deserves the lash; but who would be troubled with an impudent Ballad-maker? But here at last he propounds a question, O sinful man, for if man so thou art; Where was thy charity, where thy fleshy heart? To this I answer that it is just with God to repay * The Bishop. him with the very self same measure which he meted to others; and being without mercy in his prosperity, to make him want mercy in his adversity; that so that of Solomon might be fulfilled, His own iniquities shall take the wicked himself, and he shall be holden with the cords of his sins, Prov. 5.22. But the Bishop was charitable; that he was indeed, to cut off men's ears, and damn them to perpetual imprisonment for speaking two or three angry words against his lawn sleeves and rochet, but how strangely was the body of his charity divided, when he hung it up in quarters upon four several gates, and stuck the head on London-bridge? Was he not a very merciful man think you, to make such havoc of a poor young fellow, cutting him off on a sudden in the prime of his years, affording him hardly a complete day to fit himself for his end; and all this because he was took upon suspicion to be one of the company that beset his princely palace at Lambeth; this than could be no less than high Treason: but now the wheel of fortune is turned, and he that a year ago sat domineering on the top, now lies miserably groaning under the pressure of a thousand calamities. God grant he may lay this his affliction to heart, that so when he is bereft of Grace here, he may receive a crown of glory hereafter. And now Sir, I suppose I have resolved you what my charity is, I hate his body, but love his soul, I wish he may die by the hand of justice a temporal death, but be raised by mercy to an eternal life. And now having nothing to say, in the last place you would fain accuse me of hypocrisy, and to that end enter upon a large description of the odiousness thereof, but because you speak without proof, I weigh not your words, yet nevertheless intent to prove yourself the hypocrite out of your own writings, In a ballad called, Alas poor scholar. (For no other works of yours can I allege, unless it be Dick and Robin, the downfall of the new Bear-garden, or the like.) This ballad, I say, the best verses being made by another, you like a bold cobbler undertook to vamp it for half a crown, and this is one of your verses, I have bowed, See also a book of his making called Rome's ABC consisting altogether of jeers for the Bishop. I have bended, and all in hope One day to be befriended I have preached, I have printed, What ere I hinted To please our English Pope. I worshipped towards the East, but the Sun doth now forsake me, I find that I am falling, the Northern winds do shake me: Would I had been upright, for bowing now will break me. Alas poor Scholar, whither wilt thou go? Now whether this be not more against the Bishop than your poor silly Answer is for him, let any man be judge; which being so, to what caveat may I better refer you than to your own Acrostic, composed altogether of simplicity and nonsense? Beware of Hypocrisy, it is the way to Hell. And thus I hope I have given a full Reply to all and every of your frivolous answers, to the ample satisfaction of all honest, reasonable, and judicious people. It remains now that I prove your book to be what most falsely you called mine, Envious, scandalous, and libellous. Envious it is because you carp at that which you know not how to answer, much less to confute. Scandalous it is, for it tends to the disgrace of Religion, maintaining a popish Ceremony to be the true worship of God. Lastly, 'tis very libellous, it being as formerly hath been declared, composed of nothing but lies and falsities. As for the absurdity of your language, and base words, I mind them not, because I know they are more familiar with you than any goodness, else had you never writ so many in a sheet of paper: but it is no wonder you break out into such foul mouthed speeches, whilst you esteem all others like yourself and your company. Besides nature having ordained the teeth as a hedge to keep in the tongue, yours being all rotten, no marvel to see it run so at random. And thus as briefly as I could I have Proved my book honest, yours base, and you a knave. A conclusive Letter. SIr, finding by the innocent simplicity of your late Answer to Mercury's Message, what a foggy mist of ignorance hath infected the Globe of your small understanding, and pitying that such a young man should perish in the gulf of folly, I have spoken to a very learned Physician, an acquaintance of mine, who hath promised me to work a rare experiment for the recovery of your wits, which he verily believes are gone a woolgathering to get a better nap for your sleepy jacket, only this he advised me to premonish you of; you must with much patience prepare yourself to be cut of the simples, that so your Reply to this second may be a little wiser than your Answer to the first, whilst I endeavour to remain Your poor Friend at a pinch MERCURIUS. Now answer if you can; nay, if you dare, I'd gladly see't, but never shall I fear. No, no, 'tis better Ballads still to write, Of which no wise man ever has a sight: By fools indeed you may applauded be, Because your wit and theirs so well agree. But no man else can find in your bald lines The least conceit, that unto wit inclines. Farewell, farewell, I scorn my muse should wake her To write against a silly Ballad maker. FINIS.