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PLAIN TRUTH, AND BLIND IGNORANCE.

IGNORANCE.

Yea, yea, it is no matter,

Dispraise them how you wille:
But zure they did much goodnesse ;
Would they were with us stille!
We had our holy water,

And holy bread likewise,

And many holy reliques

We zaw before our eyes.

TRUTH.

And all this while they fed you
With vaine and empty showe,
Which never Christ commanded,
As learned doctors knowe:
Search then the holy scriptures,

And thou shalt plainly see

That headlong to damnation

They alway trained thee.

IGNORANCE.

If it be true, good vellowe,
As thou dost zay to mee,
Unto my heavenly Fader

Alone then will I flee:
Believing in the Gospel,

And passion of his Zon,
And with the zubtil papistes

Ich have for ever done.

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III.

The Wandering Jew.

THE story of the Wandering Jew is of considerable antiquity it had obtained full credit in this part of the world before the year 1228, as we learn from Matthew Paris. For in that year, it seems, there came an Armenian archbishop into England, to visit the shrines and reliques preserved in our churches, who, being entertained at the monastery of St. Alban's, was asked several questions relating to his country, &c. Among the rest, a monk, who sat near him, inquired, “If he had ever seen or heard of the famous person named Joseph, that was so much talked of; who was present at our Lord's crucifixion and conversed with him, and who was still alive in confirmation of the Christian faith." The archbishop answered, That the fact was true. And afterwards one of his train, who was well known to a servant of the abbot's, interpreting his master's words, told them in French, "That his lord knew the person they spoke of very well : that he had dined at his table but a little while before he left the East that he had been Pontius Pilate's porter, by name Cartaphilus; who, when they were dragging Jesus out of the door of the Judgment-hall, struck him with his fist on the back, saying, "Go faster, Jesus, go faster, why dost thou linger?" Upon which Jesus looked at him with a frown, and said, "I indeed am going, but thou shalt tarry till I come." Soon after he was converted, and baptized by the name of Joseph. He lives for ever, but at the end of every hundred years falls into an incurable illness, and at length into a fit or ecstasy, out of which, when he recovers, he returns to the same state of youth

he was in when Jesus suffered, being then about thirty years of age. He remembers all the circumstances of the death and resurrection of Christ, the saints that arose with him, the composing of the Apostles' creed, their preaching and dispersion; and is himself a very grave and holy person." This is the substance of Matthew Paris's account, who was himself a monk of St. Alban's, and was living at the time when this Armenian archbishop made the above relation.

Since his time, several impostors have appeared at intervals under the name and character of the Wandering Jew; whose several histories may be seen in Calmet's Dictionary of the Bible. See also the Turkish Spy, vol. ii. book iii. let. 1. The story that is copied in the following ballad is of one who appeared at Hamburgh in 1547, and pretended he had been a Jewish shoemaker at the time of Christ's crucifixion. The ballad, however, seems to be of later date. It is preserved in black-letter in the Pepys collection.

WHEN as in faire Jerusalem

Our Saviour Christ did live, And for the sins of all the worlde

His own deare life did give;

The wicked Jewes with scoffes and scornes

Did dailye him molest,

That never till he left his life,

Our Saviour could not rest.

When they had crown'd his head with thornes,

And scourg'd him to disgrace,

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In scornfull sort they led him forthe

Unto his dying place,

Where thousand thousands in the streete

Beheld him passe along,

Yet not one gentle heart was there,

That pityed this his wrong.

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And sayd, Awaye, thou king of Jewes,

Thou shalt not rest thee here;

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Pass on; thy execution place

Thou seest nowe draweth neare.

And thereupon he thrust him thence ;
At which our Saviour sayd,

I sure will rest, but thou shalt walke,

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And have no journey stayed.

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Of Jesus Christ thus shed,

And to the crosse his bodye nail'd,

Away with speed he fled

Without returning backe againe

Unto his dwelling place,

And wandred up and downe the worlde,

A runnagate most base.

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No resting could he finde at all,

No ease, nor hearts content;

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No house, nor home, nor biding place:

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