vexation and shame more on the truly venerable and pious Reformers.

:

The reader will remark the fondness of our satirist for alliteration in this he was guilty of no affectation or singularity; his versification is that of Pierce Plowman's Visions, in which a recurrence of similar letters is essential to this he has only superadded rhyme, which in his time began to be the general practice. See an Essay on this very peculiar kind of metre, prefixed to book iii. in this volume.

IN december, when the dayes draw to be short, After november, when the nights wax noysome and long;

As I past by a place privily at a port,

I saw one sit by himself making a song:

His last talk of trifles, who told with his tongue That few were fast i' th' faith. I 'freyned't that freake, Whether he wanted wit, or some had done him wrong. He said, he was little John Nobody, that durst not speake.

John Nobody, quoth I, what news? thou soon note and tell

What maner men thou meane, that are so mad.

He said, These gay gallants, that wil construe the

gospel,

As Solomon the sage, with semblance full sad;

*Perhaps He left talk.

+ feyned. MSS. and pc.

To discusse divinity they nought adread;

More meet it were for them to milk kye at a fleyke. Thou lyest, quoth I, thou losel, like a leud lad.

He said he was little John Nobody, that durst not speake.

Its meet for every man on this matter to talk,
And the glorious gospel ghostly to have in mind;
It is sothe said, that sect but much unseemly skalk;
As boyes babble in books, that in scripture are blind :
Yet to their fancy soon a cause will find;

As to live in lust, in lechery to leyke:

Such caitives count to become of Cains kind;*
But that I little John Nobody durst not speake.

For our reverend father hath set forth an order,
Our service to be said in our seignours tongue;
As Solomon the sage set forth the scripture;
Our suffrages, and services, with many a sweet song,
With homilies, and godly books us among,
That no stiff, stubborn stomacks we should freyke:
But wretches nere worse to do poor men wrong;
But that I little John Nobody dare not speake.

For bribery was never so great, since born was our Lord,

And whoredom was never les hated, sith Christ harrowed hel,

*Cain's kind.] So in Pierce the Plowman's Creed, the proud friars are said to be

"Of Caymes kind." Vide sig. C ij. b.

And poor men are so sore punished commonly through the world,

That it would grieve any one, that good is, to hear tel. For al the homilies and good books, yet their hearts be so quel,

That if a man do amisse, with mischiefe they wil him wreake;

The fashion of these new fellows it is so vile and fell: But that I little John Nobody dare not speake.

Thus to live after their lust, that life would they have, And in lechery to leyke al their long life;

For al the preaching of Paul, yet many a proud knave Wil move mischiefe in their mind both to maid and

wife

To bring them in advoutry, or else they wil strife
And in brawling about baudery, Gods commandments

breake:

But of these frantic il fellowes, few of them do thrife; Though I little John Nobody dare not speake.

If thou company with them, they wil currishly carp, and not care

According to their foolish fantacy; but fast wil they naught :

Prayer with them is but prating; therefore they it forbear:

Both almes deeds, and holiness, they hate it in their thought:

Therefore pray we to that prince, that with his bloud

us bought,

That he wil mend that is amiss: for many a manful

freyke

Is sorry for these sects, though they say little or nought;

And that I little John Nobody dare not once speake.

Thus in No place, this NOBODY, in no time I met, Where NO man, 'ne'* NOUGHT was, nor NOTHING did

appear;

Through the sound of a synagogue for sorrow I swett, That'Aeolus't through the eccho did cause me to hear. Then I drew me down into a dale whereas the dumb deer Did shiver for a shower; but I shunted from a freyke: For I would no wight in this world wist who I were, But little John Nobody, that dare not once speake.

* then. MSS. and PC.

+ Hercules. MSS. and PC.

IV.

Q. Elizabeth's Verses while Prisoner at
Woodstock,

WRIT WITH CHARCOAL ON A SHUTTER,

Are preserved by Hentzner, in that part of his Travels, which has been reprinted in so elegant a manner at Strawberry-Hill. In Hentzner's book they were wretchedly corrupted, but are here given as amended by his ingenious editor. The old orthography, and one or two ancient readings of Hentzner's copy, are here restored.

OH, Fortune! how thy restlesse wavering state
Hath fraught with cares my troubled witt!
Witnes this present prisonn, whither fate
Could beare me, and the joys I quit.
Thou causedest the guiltie to be losed
From bandes, wherein are innocents inclosed:

Causing the guiltles to be straite reserved,

5

And freeing those that death hath well deserved. But by her envie can be nothing wroughte,

So God send to my foes all they have thoughte. 10 ELIZABETHE, PRISONNER.

A.D. MDLV.

Ver. 4, Could beare, is an ancient idiom, equivalent to did bear, or hath borne. See below, the Beggar of Bednal Green, ver. 57,

Could say.