ROMES echo OR A dialogue BETWIXT A PAPIST AND A PROTESTANT: WITH AN ADMONITION TO our LORDLY BISHOPS.  
And a brief Relation of the suffering of that worthy and Religious divine Master BATES, and the inhuman usage of his dead bones afterward.  
Who died in the Gatehouse, under the Bishops tyranny.  PROVERBS 12. V. 10. 
A Righteous man regardeth the life of his Beast, but the tender mercies of the wicked are cruel.  
Printed in the wonderful year of God, 1641.   

A Caveate for Lordly Bishops.  
COme down ye Bishops fear a fall  
your kingdom' gins to shake:  
the hand is writing on the wall  
which makes your knees to quake.  
Your building like a tottering wall  
the ground works laid in sand  
Come down it will take Babels fall  
sure long it cannot stand:  
Your language is confounded sure  
you wote not what to say;  
And yet to build up Babels tower,  
you still bring clods of day.  
But all this while you patch, and piece  
with paultrie stuff indeed;  
So that in th'end the mark you miss  
when you hope best to speed.  
It is not Ierobams calves  
can save you I am sure;  
Nor yet your cruel Canon laws  
can make your kingdom dure.  
You have deprived many a man  
for breaking mans decrees;  
But for the laws of God not one  
that doth his living lose.  
How can this stand with equity  
resolve me this I pray:  
To maintain guides that cannot see,  
and thrust the good away.  
For let him be the vilest wretch  
that lives under the sun;  
If he will wear a surplice,  
and cross the Child with thumb.  
he's countenanced still by you  
much better then the best  
If this prove not to be too true,  
then let me have no rest  
You sell most foul adulteries  
for silver and for gold.  
The poor must crouch upon his knees  
by you to be absolud.  
And sometimes you bless jack for Iill  
if silver do appear;  
If not then sometimes say you will;  
poor knave what dost thou here.  
You think to have your heaven here,  
and after heaven too;  
But I can tell you in your ear,  
that will be much ado.  
For you be grown so monstrous great,  
even now adays of late;  
That 'twill go hard for you to get  
in at the narrow gate.  
Therefore me thinks it were the best  
if you could so agree;  
To let your hearts have now no rest  
till you unladen bee.  
Of all your pome, and glorious state  
which causeth God to frown;  
Which sin of yours he doth so hate  
that sure you must come down.  
For sure the Word of God is true,  
and do it not forget;  
He will pluck up I say to you  
those plants h● never set.   

ROMES echo IN A Dialogue between a Protestant and a Papist.  Protestant. 
WHat news Sir shaveling hear you none?  
you should know some I think,  
For many times if any stir  
you have it the clink.  Priest. 
Yea some there is one Hildershum  
for that he thought not meet,  
To take our Inquisition oath,  
was cast into the fleet.  Protestant. 
Me thinks I should well know the man,  
thats taken in the lurch,  
Is it not one, doth what he can,  
t'oppose the Romish Church?  Priest. 
Its he, but wote you, one that then  
in High Commission sate,  
In learned sort, and open Court,  
his fault did aggravate.  
Youd fain know how, I tell it now  
a number standing by,  
In sober wise, he doth advice,  
and tells him this plain lie,  
That Banbury men were stiff at first,  
Oh they would nothing do:  
But now they would do best& worst,  
and some thing over too.  
And you( saith he) will peevish be,  
you'll in New prison lye,  
And there perhaps ere long like Bates  
a malefactor die.  Protestant. 
What said he thus? then had he quiter  
the poor mans courage dashed,  
But that he knew, it was not true,  
his Lordship overlasht.  
For thus to speak of worthy Bates,  
how was he not afraid?  
In stead of malefactor, he  
a Martyr should have said.  
What though we be not so precise,  
and little scripture can?  
We are persuaded he lived well,  
and dyed a faithful man.  
Will Turner think you turn his coat,  
and say he cares not what?  
will sharp of Banbury change his note  
and now go sing a flat?  
No Turner stood, and heard this tale,  
and was ashamed to hear:  
The Bishop vent so foul untruths,  
without all shane or fear.  Priest. 
Well true or false it matters not,  
you see heres just occasion:  
Why we resolve their Lordships have,  
a catholic persuasion,  
And truly they deserve our Church,  
should yield them great applause,  
In show they much oppose, in dead  
they much maintain our case.  
What though they rate us now and then  
to give the State content,  
And call us powder plotting men,  
that so we may be shent.  
Though you, and they do term us oft,  
the Common adversary,  
Yet they, and we do well agree,  
we very little varie.  
And though in worldly policy,  
they must needs make faire weather,  
They know full well their cause,& ours,  
will stand or fall together.  
With Puritans, and Preachers all,  
which most our kingdom shake,  
Accounting those our common foes,  
they present order take.  
Of such Precesians what they can,  
the Churches they disarm,  
And leave in Pulpit scarce a man,  
will do us any harm.  Protestant. 
Yes sundry men soundly to tax,  
your foul idolatry,  
Your mass, your vows, your pilgrimage  
and Popes supremacy,  
Your salt, your spitile, and your cream,  
your kneeling to the bread:  
Your sacrifice, your fasting daies,  
your prayers for the dead.  
Your calling on departed Saints,  
your purgatory fire;  
You penance, pardons, Indulgence,  
and such like popish mire.  
Your Censing, and baptizing Bells,  
your tapers and your lights:  
Your crossing, holy water, oil,  
and conjuring of sprights,  
Your orders, altars, and perfumes,  
your litany profession.  
Strange language, lying miracles,  
auricular confession.  
Your Church belief, your merits, works  
of supererogation,  
Your canonizing traitors faints,  
your gross equivocation.  
Your singing, ringing, Requiems,  
your monthly minds, your feasts,  
Your legens, bulls, base freting toys  
more base then Scoggins jests.  
Your pillar prayers, relics, woods,  
your courtesy, knocking breasts,  
Your false communion kissing paxe,  
and keeping it in chests.  
Your counsels, canons, decretals,  
decrees, and mens traditions.  
Your jewish churching, and such like  
a thousand superstititions.  
These are your Doctrines, whereunto  
your practices do suite;  
All which our learned clergy men,  
do labour to confute.  Priest. 
In words 'tis true your clergy men  
our Doctrines do disclaim  
But who sees not therein they give  
themselves a privy maim,  
We sometimes hear,& well can bear,  
They call our doctrine dotage,  
Provided though they do not eat  
our meate, they sup our pottage.  
What are our ceremonies good,  
and are our Doctrines nought?  
In sense can these be practised,  
and not these other taught?  
The blusters which your Doctors make,  
is but a blast of breath:  
Theres in it no such danger 'tis  
no dagger but a sheathe.  
Themselves must sob,& come,& crouch  
and cause to bow the knee:  
When as they do take, and eat  
the bread as well as we.  
They must put on our worthy weeds  
cap, tippit, and surplus;  
And do such rites for which what word,  
or warrant but from us!  
If any other should allege  
alas he should but fain,  
And coin some from his own conceit,  
of from some other brain.  
What order have we you have not  
Ile wage an hundreth pounds:  
Our papacy, your prelacy:  
stands on the self same grounds.  
You keep our fasts, and feasting dayes,  
you read our liturgy:  
Our Canons, and your laws, from us  
you have your ministry.  
Your Churchings, Organs,& your choir  
your litany contains  
Some worthy points whereof there is  
not one of us complains.  
All points wherein we well accord  
I cannot reckon up.  

Abbot to Tim. Lowel.  On fish-street hill one gives the bread  
but would not give the cup.  

Doctor Layfield.  One pleads in pulpit for our faith  
implicit, and ear shift,  
And saith none kneelers must be damned  
they can it no way shift.  

M. Hayw●●●  A third to prove your kneeling good  
although it came from us:  
Reads in our mass book word for word  
and thence concludeth thus.  
Heres ( Sursum corda) which saith he,  
we have from popish writ  
Our Church as good retains,& which  
of us complains of it.  
Some yet more cunningly concur  
in act, and shun the name,  
Like usurers, when as our work,  
and worship is the same.  
Our robes must be your ornaments,  
or for distinction sake,  
You must have honest burial,  
and therefore prayers make.  
Our churchings are your giving thanks  
strange language learning deep:  
In stead of our procession, you  
perambulations keep.  
Our kneeling is your comeliness,  
our cross in babes face.  
Is now become your Christian badge,  
and no small sign of grace.  
Our images are portraytures  
of men that do adorn  
Your Churches, if you pull them down  
it hardly will be born.  
If Banbury men will do their gear,  
I trow they have their doom,  
Their orders are well stuffed I hear  
with welcome news to Rome.  
Yea worthy news I hope ere this  
it's over all the town:  
Your Churchmen have no' thoritie  
to thrust our pictures down,  
Your homily saith they defile,  
wherein it seems to lye:  
This order writes another style,  
to wit they beautify:  
And so concludes that who so doth  
them molish or deface:  
Is justly censured as one  
that doth profane the place.  
A ha Sir Large how like you this,  
did he not say the troth:  
That said you would soon eat our meat  
that thus fell to our broth?  
What practise we that you do not?  
have we stews, you have stage?  
Blespheme we, you have lottery  
maintained with wrong, and rage.  
Pardon we faults, you let forth fees  
for filthiness to farm:  
The strumpet poor must penance pay  
the rich hath no such harm.  
Sometimes in dead for very need  
the sillie stands in sheet:  
When with bare breast& head bare dressed  
the silken walk the street.  
In brief what ere may be the fruit  
of all our tolerations,  
Our pardons, penance, indulgence,  
and other dispensations.  
The same is of your punishing,  
of sin by sheet or purse:  
Your fees for absolution,  
your Canons, Court, and curse.  
Nay further name a sin who can  
that any doth commit,  
But your conformity will breed,  
or feed, and foster it.  
Let any that will not conform,  
cry down idolatry:  
Error, and heresy confute,  
never so learnedly.  
Let him reprove dumb ministers  
the drunkards Simony,  
adultery, non residence:  
bribe takers usury.  
Lots, dicing, stageplayes, brothelhouse  
the shag haird roaring boyes,  
The tavern, inn, Tobacco shop,  
that all the place annoys.  
The feathered cap, the Saffron ruff,  
the lotthsome hellish pride:  
Some galled horse begins to snuff  
the Preacher must be tried.  
Nay let him preach for loyalty,  
to lawful Magistrate:  
Yea pled, and pray most fervently  
for safety of the State.  
Let him for Princes health, and peace  
allege the strongest reason:  
And soundly press the heinousness  
of poison powder treason.  
There's not a Papist in the place  
or Atheist in the town:  
But hath a trick to fetch him up,  
and well nigh pull him down.  
Where are the thousand men become,  
that fought for reformation,  
A Rave bide with his heady book,  
soon wrought their desolation.  
Ho! they'd have superstitions down,  
dumb Ministers suppressed.  
But this our Doctors proctors could  
in no wife well digest.  
They would have no Non residents,  
each pastor flock must feed:  
And yet have but due recompense,  
here were a world indeed.  
Theyld no Comendams have, theyld no  
pluralities permit,  
They shot at Rovers yet how right,  
these Oxford heads they hit.  
They would have mended many things  
in common prayer book.  
Infine they would have discipline,  
which none of us can brook.  
Tis Discipline I say't again,  
that we cannot abide,  
And have therein all formal men,  
and Prelates on our side.  
All neuter our Religion like,  
and civill men no doubt:  
Yet should it come to patting wealth,  
its feared they would stand out.  
They would join close for Prince, and State  
for country, children, wives,  
Its thought they would not part with these  
but joyntlie venture lives.  
Tis this, hark in your ear a word  
that puts us to our pause  
That we try not with dint of sword,  
the goodness of our cause.  Protestant. 
avaunt you peevish plotting priest,  
you jailor keep him sure:  
And hear him longer they that list,  
I will it not endure.  
See how he hath the bloody minds,  
of Popish crew descride:  
More meet their cause by Princes laws,  
at tyburn should be tried.  
And are our Prelates Popish then?  
I thought they had been wise,  
I took them for good Protestants,  
though none of them precise.  
Oft have I heard a sore( it is  
no less a just) complaint:  
Of Priests, and Papists liberty,  
and Puritants restraint,  
I mean such as those imps do term;  
that means of grace withstand:  
And under that pretence molest  
the quiet of the land.  
This practiser dissembles not,  
whom Papists mean to strike,  
He tells us plainly whom the Pope,  
and Prelates love alike.  
He brings to mind an adage old,  
which once I saw in verse,  
Its not so new, nor old as true,  
I will it hear rehearse:  
Lordbishops make dumb Ministers,  
whence Ignorance doth spring:  
Hence Popery, thence treachery,  
'gainst country, State, and King.  
Why stay I thus? and presently,  
betake me not to Court,  
And in the ears of Prince, and peers,  
this conference report.  
Why join wee not that would be thought  
good subjects in request,  
First to the Lord then to the King,  
these things may be redressed.  
Why seek we not by all good means  
these mischiefs to prevent:  
And by true Christian force unite,  
to frustrate their intent.  
Is Princes life so little worth  
is countries love so could?  
Must wives and children be to sword  
as sheep to slaughter sold?  
Shall sharking Spaniard share our goods  
shall these our babes eat  
Our lands possess we purchased have,  
with peril, pain,& sweat.  
Much better true Church rule were sought  
that these things might be stayed,  
Then popery, or prelacy,  
that favour it endured.  
We shall be counted Puritants,  
too strict, men scrupelous:  
Better we wrongfully so termed,  
then justly treacherous  
Who ever heard that such as stand,  
for Christs true Discipline,  
In Popish plot had head, or hand  
in treacherous design.  
entreat we then his majesty,  
the Prelates may restore,  
To Church her ancient parish right  
usurping it, no more.  
It's this you see would daunt our foes  
our friends would gratefie:  
Our state secure, judgements remove,  
and blessings multiply.  
But if we walking as before  
Christs discipline with stand,  
Some fearful plague,& Iudgement sure  
will overtake the land.  
The Lord hath sent his Ministers,  
but we have them disgraced:  
His Prophets mocked, his messengers  
suspended, and displaced.  
Some are dispersed, others despisd,  
in prison some remain  
Some ended have their daies in bands,  
whose blood doth yet complain.  
That wives, and children here,& there  
exposed to misery:  
No marvel if ere long we hear  
ther's now no remedy.  
Our people perish in their sins  
through want of ministry,  
To Goff voided of religion,  
to Prince of loyalty.  
Its not unknown that Diggers first  
rose up and havoc make,  
Where Preachers silent, first were forced,  
their places to forsake.  
But let's have these restored, let no  
dumb Ministers be made:  
Let such as have crept in return  
unto their former trade.  
Let learned Hildersham go forth,  
who knows him, knows 'twere  
He preaching were, not prisoner, meet  
in Kings bench, or the fleet.  
Let others more be set at large.  
let Ashby men be gone:  
Let Leicester men have their discharge,  
let Banbury men alone.  
down with the cursed office oath  
let ceremonies cease,  
Vnjust subscription scourge of truth  
and bane of Churche● peace.  
The things their patrons count toys  
lets banish hence with speed,  
Let learned men not formal but boyes  
be set the flock to feed.  
In brief, lets all submit to Christ  
our Prophet, Priest, and King:  
Its this to Country, State, and Prince  
and selves will safety bring.  
But as for those that be his foes,  
and will not have him reign;  
In woeful plight into his sight,  
they shall be brought, and slain.  
Reader heres mention made of Bates  
my purpose is to end,  
Adding thereto the song that thus  
begins, Right Reverend.   

HERE FOLLOWETH A brief RELATION OF THE DEATH of that worthy Master Bates, who being a Prisoner in the Gatehouse, dyed the second of October 1613. a faithful witness of of the Truth. With some brief notes of the cause why others are still imprisoned.  
RIght Reverend randal Bates at length  
when twenty moneths were past  
God freed from Gatehouse into which  
he causelessly was cast.  
He dyed not in contempt of laws,  
or lawful Magistrate,  
But bearing witness in the cause  
against the Romish state.  
His Prince he loved, those whom he sent  
he readily obeyed:  
And patiently he underwent  
what others one him laid.  
More loyal, faithful to the state,  
for King, and kingdoms good,  
Then those who by restraint impaired  
his health, and truth withstood.  
More fit for heaven say they, tis true  
but woe to them that spill,  
The blood of saints with cruelty,  
their measure to fulfil.  
Release was sought, but what success  
they did not blushy for shane,  
To say the King would have it thus,  
lo he must bear the blame.  
Though jailor shut all in, and out  
with lock and key full sure,  
They fear the corps is thence conve●'●  
they cannot be secure,  
The Coffin up they broke, the sheet  
they see, but then they doubt,  
Some image lies in wrapped in stead  
of body taken out  
The sheet they loose, the corpes they view  
yet when his face they see,  
They knew him not they say, or doubt  
at least it is not he,  
Some of their own must say or swear  
and so content the spies,  
Thus all his servants wicked are,  
that hearken unto lies.  
All what I could of whats too true  
to speak I would be loathe:  
Of all their men show but the man  
loves God or fears an oath.  
With Surplice, Tipp●t and such trash,  
with mocks and much disdain,  
They flout him when they could inflict  
on him no further pain.  
Indeed he hated, so doth God  
the Popish prelacy,  
Rom●s remnants relique●, rights,& rags Christ  
with her conformity,  
To grave with bills, and staves, as  
was taken brought was he,  
A greater then the master is  
the servant may not be.  
Yea further, that they might not much  
their pattern miss to match,  
Its said that some their care was such  
that night the grave did watch.  
He lives with Christ in happiness,  
for all Eternity,  
His friends he left in heaviness,  
his foes in misery.  
Those though they wail are yet in way  
to heaven where all is well:  
But these unless they do repent,  
in woe, and way to Hell.  
Ye that lament him cease your moan,  
your heads no more hang down,  
The race is run, the field is won,  
he hath the prise, and crown.  
He fought the fight, and kept the faith,  
he spake it oft, now plain  
He proves i● never any served  
the living God in vain.  
mourn for yourselves,& those whose rage  
shall cease or downfalls nere,  
It well be known God loves his own  
the death of Saints is dear.  
They'l now repent, would that were true  
small hope as yet we see,  
Since Banbury men be in a new,  
against all equity.  
Theres sure some cause yea this is one,  
its said they were too bold:  
To throw down images of stones,  
a part of Popes freehold  
Whilst, that were gross, they will not take  
the self accusing oath,  
What man of grace so much can make  
as one just cause of both?  
Yet first they were to prison brought,  
and now cast in again,  
Because they did that which they ought  
and fear to swear in vain.  
On others likewise long restrained  
their anger still they wreakee  
The second precept, third or ninth,  
enforcing them to break,  
Enforcing, yea say not, he speaks  
he knows not what, nor how,  
Twas said by one, of him that's gone,  
that he should break or bow.  
But God will bow, and bend the back,  
or break the teeth, and jaws:  
Of such as do oppress the poor  
under pretence of laws.  
Be patient therefore wait a while  
the Lord our God will come,  
And fellow servants smitters shal,  
receive a dreadful doom.  
Oh have compassion, pitty, pray  
that God his grace would give:  
They may repent, and so prevent  
his heavy hand, and live.  
Praise God for Princes life, and peace,  
who whilst he sceptre sways,  
Keeps from us( what the Papists would  
bring on us) bitter dayes,  
Save Lord thy Church, this land& state  
our King, and Prince prorect:  
And by his race confounded the Pope,  
and comfort thine elect.  
show us thy face in princes grace  
discerning truth from guile,  
His subjects truth from popish crew  
the precious from the vile.  
Pardon our sins, and purge our souls.  
make glad our hearts again,  
We may by grace, with thee our race  
here run, hereafter reign.  
Soli Deo gloria& suis solis.