He watched when as he could not sleepe he prayde that ye might heare him snort In stede of bordes on beddes of downe thus was this pynyng Prelates hurt To recreate his sprites he vsde Boules Cardes Tables all day long And set vpon his mery pinne could sometime sing a baudy song c. But sith thou doost delight to heare of such as dyed in distresse Though Luther and Caluin both were cleare loe here at least a mischeuous messe Pope Adrian your blessed sire in breathing threates agaynst a king An vgly Fly with sodayne death his holines at throat did sting The greatest foe that Luther had Eckius yelding vp the ghost Did say foure thousand crownes preparde will this dispatch a iolly boast A heauenly end no doubt he made he had some Cardinalship to buy He thought as Boner on his God which forst him thus on him to cry Cardinall Cretensius dyed with sight of a blacke dogge In ruth ended Bomelius and Thornton that beastly hog Iacobus Latomus hauing made gaynst Luther an oration long Fell straight to desperation and ended so his wofull song Lord Poncher and Minerius with fire of God were stricken so And while their flesh consumde therewith defied God as mortall foe Our Cardinall Poole in Grenewich house did blesse the Douer Suffragane While kneeling downe vpon the straires receiude it like a holy man The blessing geuen the blessed fell downe from the staires his necke he brast I thinke the diuell might haue geuen as good a blessing with lesse hast These were the patrones of your Church blessed bishops Boner like Great tormenters of Christes flocke O feare the Lord least he do strike The Libell Sith Prince of Conde all your hope your buckler and your shielde As traytor false against his Prince was stayne in open fielde The Prince of Orange put to flight with all his band dismayd You heretiques must needes confesse your courage quite decayde Reply Of noble princes for to write it is to farre without my reach But if thou hadst a subiectes heart then wouldst thou vse more seemely speach Thou shewest well thy trayterous minde vnto thy prince and natiue land A rope a rope for that parot or Boners bountie a fire brand I know the Prince of Conde slayne and so your manly Duke of Guise The king of Nauarre bid like payne Duke Mommorancy in likewise The Duke of Alba his sonne is dead what prayse his father wonne that time I doo not tell or neede not write for why so hye I will not clime The Libell Thy slaundering him with tiranny in such a spitefull sort Might make some men which knew him not beleue thy false report Thou sayest that from the face of some with clawes he rent the heare But where or when or names of them that canst thou not declare But when gaue he reprochfull wordes or such disdainfull eyes Vnto the Queenes commissioners a whetstone for these lyes Reply Thou breathyng forth with bashles brow of lewd lyes loe a monstrous heape Doost me accuse most wrongfully the shame therof be sure to reape His tyranny doth so appeare agayne I nede it not report How many wayes in wilfull wise or after what a shamelesse sort First clapt he men in prison strong till rigourous lawes were framed wherby With cloke of right he might consume all such as would not Christ deny The law so made Christes flocke to spoyle could Boners fury nothyng swage But that his bloudy handes must helpe them to torment in wilfull rage Some with his fist he beat so sore vpon the face that swollen blacke The selly soules condemned to dye did bryng his marke vnto the stake Poore Tomkins hand did Boner burne this tormenter not so content With cruell clawes from of his face nye halfe his beard the tyraunt rent Most Tiger lyke wiâ—h Pagan pawes the beard of Rough in rage extreme In shameles sort the tyraunt tare how blessed he now may ye deme What should I neede to name the rest they lyue that saw it with their eyes Yet falsely thou doest me reproue a mill a mill to grinde thy lyes Of his reprochefull wordes vnmeete the people are not ignoraunt And loe I would them now recite if that thy forged lyes might daunt But tho I had a thousand proufes which would auouch my wordes for south They might not serue so shameles thou no truth may stop thy lying mouth A Papistes gyse is this I find the truth with lyes full ouertwhart First to assayle with slaunders weyt and last he scoldeth out his part Of hys leud lyfe I loth to thinke to write it all it yerketh me Tho young I rather wishe thee mend least old thou proue as ill as he The Libell Thy slaunders all I could confute but present tyme will not suffice Yet will I somewhat touch his death because I saw it with myne eyes Thou absent at his death reportest his face both blacke and blew But all which saw it witnesse can how that is most vntrue Happy art thou if after death God graunt to thee this grace To haue thy soule as cleare of hewe as was this Byshops face A dolefull end thou sayst he had but there thou lyest as in the rest For he persisted still in prayer whyle any breath was in his brest He cride God mercy for his sinnes which he by frailtie had commit And armyng hym with signe of Crosse hys soule to God he dyd submit Reply My slaunders all thou couldst confute I slaundred not why doest thou lye Thou lackest tyme nay truth thou wantst thy forged falshode for to try If that thyne eye beheld his end a wofull sight to thee I feare Though absent I haue heard report of honester then thou euen there His keper Waye did it declare with other that beheld his ende Now if they haue not double tounges the truth they told they will defende Pray for thy selfe I am not sicke or els a better prayer make My soule I trust in better hewe Christ to his mercy shall betake Thou doest this bloudy Boner wrong in callyng hym a Byshop still For he a beastly butcher was the selly Lambes of God to kill T is knowen how long he specheles lay yet wouldest thou hide but God will not Tho Papistes cloke truth will disclose in spite of all their knauish knot When speach was gone ye heard him speake and call for mercy at the last O shamelesse man thinke on the truth and call for helpe ere hope be past The Libell Dolefull to whom was this hys end to thee or him to thee I smell For doubtlesse thou doost stomacke this that he should liue and dye so well Reply And though his death more milder were then those his felowes I namde before I will not iudge but God doth know what wrath he kept for him in store The wickednes by you maintaind I hate as deuill and deadly foe The men I no whit do enuie let bloudy Boner and babell go The Libell As for his buriall in the night some malice there was shewde And yet vnto hys blessed soule what harme therby ensued Your castyng hym to homely pit in such a theeuish place Can hynder hym nothyng at all to tast of heauenly grace For Christ hym selfe betwene two theeues did suffer bitter payne Wherby hys glory was increast for euer to remayne Reply It is a blessyng of the Lord to dye in peace in natiue land And that the fathers graues should hold the brethlesse corps once turnde to sand But Boner could not that obtaine for God did see it was not meete And causde the rulers to commaunde a worser place for hym more fit Though Christ were erucified with theeues yet buryed was in stately tome With costly oyntmentes very deare such was his heauenly fathers doine But though here were a theefe at hand no Christ to dye or lye by him Wherfore as it behoueth well to Sathan loe I leaue his lim The Libell Now farewell Brooke and if thou thinke for all thy learned skill That slaunderyng toung can ought auayle then hardly vse it still But if thou know the deuill it loues and God detestes the same Repent for that which thou hast done and leaue it now for shame FINIS Reply How ill a trothlesse toung besemes in thee I see that doest it vse What slaundryng lyps do merite still thou doest me learne by thyne abuse Repentaunce none nede I to craue for ought that I haue done or sayd Gaynst thee or bloudy Boner yet if that my cause be iustly wayd But hauyng cleared all thy doubtes and truly aunswered thy demaundes I giue thy gyrdes good leaue to grase in blacke obliuions heuy laundes And thus of hidden name adew thy pieuish peale so lewdly rong Declares thy kynd for withered fruite from rotten stocke hath alwayes sprong Thou doest nothyng degenerate from Papistes kynd and seede of Baal Thy grandsire is great Lucifer his sonne the Pope ye lyers all I was in doubt to vse my pen in aunsweryng of so vile a beast But that I thought my silence should thy causelesse pride haue much increast Then henceforth know I do disdeyne one word to write agaynst thy rime For loe my handes I should but steine in touchyng such a peece of slime Now rayle and rage in roystyng wise now scolde and scoffe thy belly full Thy truthlesse toung I force it not I leaue thee wholly to thy Trull But yet I do besech the Lord to mollifie thy stony heart To plant repentaunce by his spirite and all the Papistes to conuert Fare well vntill thy golden day wherin I trust without delay All such as would their Christ betray c. shall finde a doome and iudgement day Fare well FINIS T. Brooke the younger
✚ A slaunderous Libell cast abroad vnto an Epitaph set forth vpon the death of D. E. Boner with a Reply to the same lying Libell by T. Broo. ⧠Imprinted at London by Iohn Daye dwelling ouer Aldersgate The Libell Who so sp eaketh that he should not must heare what he would not MArch forth in malice brauling Brooke let taunting tounge haue no restraint Spew our the worst thou canstinuent against this Boner blessed saint Spare not to speake most slaunderous speach against this Prelate dead and gone Declare thy selfe like furious dogge to bite and barke at euery stone Reply At length I finde thy lies I waigh not Truth bids me answere altho I would not NO malice moued hath my minde nor tauntingly the truth I penne No spite did cause me to depaint this Boner saint of Sathans denne Where as the deuill beares the crosse a holy sort it should appeare If Boner be a blessed saint then cruell Nero neede not feare The slaughter house had open wrong that Boner was a Byshop made And Newgate lost his right that day so skilfull he in Baylers trade No madde braine moode hath me prouokt nor Boner dead I ought despite Which thou mightst see with open eyes but Boner like thou hatst the light But loe from thee now flascheth forth the burning sprite of Boners brest Which wonted was in wilfull sort the law and truth with wrong to wrest Yet for I heard of some so fonde to thinke that he was wronged much A peece not all of his leude lite I thought no shame or sinne to touch I coulde haue tolde the numbers great of vices vile the viper had Whose fury fell and franticke force oft honest hartes with care hath clad And Epitaphes do onely serue the wightes enthrald by Atropos Which els the same of their desertes or good or badde might happe to lose Some prayse the Lawyers iudgementes right some vaunt the warriours worthynes Some tell the vertues of the wise some shew of Boners blouddynes Not I then like a furious dogge in death haue sauage Boner bitte Nor raging I with stormy streames but calmely loe my floudes did flitte The Libell Thy rayling tounge against good men is to well knowne seuen yeares agoe What slaunders thou against him heapest if truth were knowne be nothing so Reply Thou doest me wrong thus to accuse of flaundring any honest man Or now or seuen yeares agoe name thou the wight if that thou can In rayling thou art Boners childe in scoffes in scoldes in slaunders vile In lyings leude in Popery it seemes thy dame did not begile Most like thy dad in euery poynt yet bastard none for ought I know Nor maiden Priest as Boner was whose children liude not long ago The infernall sprites do daunce for ioy to heare this Boners babe thus baule And falsehode fleeres to finde such frendes as seeke with lyes the truth to gaule Is this the iust reward I haue that sought in silence for to hide The halfe of all his wretchednes which thou mightst shame to heare discride Thou shewest thy selfe euen what thou art a blessed babe of Baalams broode Not able to maintaine thy part in slaundering swellest like a tode The Libell The law thou thinkest is on thy side to rayle at randome as thou listest And for thy slaunderous wordes thou hopest that none should thee resist Reply The law is on my side I know the perfect law of God it is Which to reproue thou hast no power though serpent like thou subtilly hisse This was the practise of the Iewes to cloke their faultes with false report Their cursed crueltie to hide and sinnefull sectes for to support The Libell His vertues rare did thee displease for theeues against iust iudges speake Till Partha cut his fatall thread thy woefull wrath thou durst not wreake Doth Gospell which thou doost professe teach thee to dip thy penne in gall And so defame such learned men whom vertue doth to honour call Reply Yea more then rare his vertues were for vertue none in him did rest As time did serue I sought to shew the vices which I still detest If I in ought haue Boner wrongde it is in that I not displaide Vnto the full his wretched life and Pagan Pagentes that he plaide But now sith that ye geue the cause to thend you Papistes should not thinke Your lying lippes and slaundrous wordes from known truth should make me shrink In playner sort I iustly proue that Boner for his great outrage Did Achab passe and Iezabell a Dioclesian of our age And if my verse seeme somewhat sharpe yet from the truth I will not swarue And vnprouokte of enuies roote yelde milder wordes then ye deserue Some theeues agaynst iust iudges speake so Caiphas did agaynst his Christ But if that thou call Boner iust I well can proue thou shamefully lyest He oft for meede peruerted right a cruell tyranne in his dayes He bolstered bawdry by his might and simonie by Romishe sayes And thou doest follow him apace to raile and raue without cause why The thinges thou canst not iustly proue thou fortifiest with a lye With spiders iuice thy penne is wet no Gospells lore thy toung doth guide But Pluto or his younglinges skill the poysoned Pope high prince of pride By false hypocrisie we see did Boner clime to honours height And placed there vnworthy he all vertues wayes despised straight Yet London may his Minotaure his Boner boast for all assayes Sith Becket neuer bred such bale nor halfe so well the Pope could please Why did ye not shrine him aliue Saint Dunstane might haue done the deede Swete samt Fraunces or Boniface or Belzebub for better spede The Libell We see how thou in Rethoricke roollest as one in Schemes and Tropes expert Frequenting of this figure rare which some men call sauce malipert What truth in preaching thou declarest I am content that other try In this thy worke I can affirme that euery line contaynes a lie And euery lie so shamefully made suckt out from saucy fingers end That surely some vnhappy sprite put to his hand to haue it penned Reply Thou and thy Boner bounteles in natures one seme to agree Two happy wombes from whence the sprang the pestilent fruite of poysoned tree What Boner was right well appeard while wastfull will with might was matcht Such wouldst thou seme in power plast a bounsing boye of Hidra hatcht Thy muse doth march in slaunderous sort fond rage doth rule thy beastly braine Cease shameles tauntyng toung to toyle in Boners case with lyes so vaine I tolde a troth why doost thou lye tho preacher none to farre vnfit Forbeare to striue against the streame let reason rule thy wreastling witte Thou doost abuse thy figure much that More so ment thou canst not proue It is not sure Saucemalepert a knaue of knauery to reproue Thou were but lately at the mill that ground thy lyes yet somewhat grose Alas good syr how saucye I the serpentes subtletie to
disclose When as the Apostles did reproue the high priestes they were sayd to scold So I in telling Boners faultes of thee am counted saucese bold But what if I should tell them all then mightst thou haue a heauy hart Poore papist sure thou wouldst runne mad for why these few doo make thee start The spirite that guided hath my pen is tryed truth I dare auouch You loth to heare his treachery because such faultes your selfe do touch If vertue had remainde in him or were thy yeares replete with grace I would haue reuerenced you both but to brute beastes I geue no place The Libell Did he fiue times with solemne othe his Clxistian faith deny Did he fiue times renounce the Pope O shamefull famous lye Foure tymes belike before his birth he did commit the crime And then the fift thou doost declare was in Lord Cromwels time And then was he but very younge and knew not chalke from chese Perchaunce as loth as thou art now promotion for to leese Reply That sondry times he sworne was to maintenaunce of christian fayth His hand doth shew forth comming yet but periured papistes this not wayeth First named Archdeacon of Leicester he sware vnto King Henries booke Then elect bishop of Hereforde he sware againe the story looke Then pastor he of London made agaynst the Pope he tooke his oth And when our soueraigne borne was he did the like know this for troth So at the birth of Prince Edward and at his coronation He sware agaynst the Romish whore and her abhomination I leaue how stoutely he at Rome defied the Pope vnto his face In Scalding lead he had bene boylde but that he packt away a pace Thou sayest I made a famous lye but I haue proued my wordes full true From those thy lines is truth exilde as from the rest which doo ensue And for his yeares by thy accompt full fifty he in Cromwells time O shamels man the truth appeares seeke not with lyes to hide his crime Thou sayest he liued fourescore and sixe but thirty one since Cromwell dyed Then fifty fiue was Boners age in Cromwells time or thou hast lyed No baby then a knauish foole a crafty cloyne as now thou art Thy lines do shew how he could clawe and for aduauntage play his part Promotion sure I neuer chose nor glutted am with worldly pelfe But though I all at once should lose yet would I not forsweare my selfe The Libell But after he was grounded once in wisdomes learned schole He did perceaue and sore repent that he had playde the foole And calling then for God his grace for to inspire his hart Persisted still in Christ his faith till death did him depart Reply Thou art deceaued he neuer learnd in schole by wisdomes sacred lore For to deny the gospell pure which he professed had before But Iudas lyke he Christ betrayde a persecuting Saul outright As Cain his sinnes he did forthincke professing Ieroboams sprite And as the dogge to vomite turnes so Boner leauing wisdomes schole To wonted lewdnes made repayre the lenger life the greater foole Wherefore the Lord with drew his spirite and gaue him vp vnto his lust Wherein he ranne a ruthfull race till he returned againe to dust The Libell His yeares on earth with honor spent were three and fourty double tolde But as for thee thou mayst be hangde ere thou be halfe so olde Reply Herein the princes mercy shines our noble Queene sought not his bloud As he did hers maliciously and stubbournely her lawes with stoode Her clemency a cureles hart she thought in time to truth should turne But vice had vertue chased so that grace by no meanes might returne Full thirty yeares now haue I liude but rather than I would become So quite deuoyde of shame as he I wish to God for speedy dome But thou pray for thy selfe I say for when both Pope and hope are past To feele thy wretched bodyes waight a rope may serue thy necke at last The Libell Thou sayst that Papistes lingring hope in Byshop Boner did depend Which now sith death did him preuent is come thou trustes to finall ende Well then I frame this argument a simile to thee agayne Sith sundry of thy sinfull sect by dint of death are slayne As Caluine piller of your Church whome you accompted wise In liewe of his false heresie was werried vp with lice Sith Luther author of your sect whom Sathans schismes fed As dronken sot with sursetting was dead found in his bed Reply The lingring hope the papistes lost was great by Boners fatall fall If not consumed into care their pieuish pride it did appall That papists hoped their watchword shewes a due vnto the golden day Our God is good who than I trust shall put you papistes by your pray c. Sometime God doth from anger stint he will not beate his children still As when he takes tyrantes away which liue in hope his church to spill Sometime for peoples sinnes also doth God bereaue their pastors true A token of Gods wrath to come and his displeasure to ensue So Boner taken away from vs fortels the goodnes of our God And Luthers death and Caluins both was to those countries then a rod. Our Church on no such pillers standes on Christ the rocke our fayth is stayde And though such worthy members dye our hartes thereby are not dismayde But O thou most infamous wretch I thinke the very diuels of hell Doo hide their face for very shame their sonne so leud a lye to tell Did Caluin dye wearied with lise or like a Lambe with sicknes prest Beware least lise reuenge these lyes by wrath of God on that thy breast How Martin Luther yelded breath apparant is by good record And such a stately buriall hath wanted many a prince and Lord. O stiffe neckt Iewe that neuer stentest Christes followers for to defame With gluttony and dronkenes the troth is knowne and breedes thy shame But Boner was no surfetor by fast and prayer he pined so That vnneth he had an eye to see for fatte he scarsely well might go The Imber dayes he well obserud with fish from Sea and runnyng streme And that but base of common sort as Cunger Brett Pike Carpe Breme He fasted oft till hunger came he spared much the poore mans beefe With Quaile and Partrege he tooke paine fatte Capons were his chiefe reliefe In stede of grosest Mutton pies the fattest Venson from parke and chase Both hotte and colde and that good store with wine he washed downe apace He had a care for Horse and Mule and kept their branne out of his bread On finest manchet that was made alas this sely Boner fedde And sith the Thames was somewhat farre or Cundite water clere and fine His morning draught was Ipocras or els the purest Muscadine For norishing he loude a Pigge et non tam caute but I heare When hauty hartes were hard to haue he was content with Fallow Deare c.