Brief Chronicle of the Bishop of Rome's Blessing, A

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A breue Cronycle of the Bysshope of Romes blessynge, and of his Prelates beneficiall and charitable rewardes, from the tyme of Kynge Heralde vnto this daye.

¶Imprinted at London by Iohn_Daye, dwellyng in Sepulchres parish at the signe of the Resurrection a lytle aboue Holbourne Conduite.

¶ Cum priuilegio Regali, Ad imprimendum solum.

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¶The preface.

WHo lyst to loke aboute

May in Cronicles soon finde out

What sedes the Popysshe route

In England hath sowen

Because the tyme is shorte

I shall bryuely reporte,

And wryte in dewe sorte

Therin what I haue knowen.

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¶ Kynge Herolde.

IN the tyme of Herolde the Kynge

Robert of canterbury had his banyshinge

Ye may be sure for no good lyuynge

That euer man harde saye

To Wyllyam_Conqueror the byshop went

To whom Alexander a banner sent

Of clene remyssion theyr wycked entent

Was Englande to dekaye.

¶ William_conqueror.

THe abbeys of Englande great and stoute

This kynge caused to be serched oute

The money there founde all rounde aboute

Was brought to the kynges treasure

The byshop of canterbury with many mo

And dyuers abbottes were depryued also

And were made quondams ye may well know

For no good demenure.

¶ William the seconde.

WIth william the .ii. what stryfe dyd make

Byshop Ancelme and howe stoute a crake

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Made Rafe of chechester for the trybutes sake

For women that priestes dyd paye

This kynge in posession had certayne

The byshoprycke of canterbury and dyd retayne

Wynton and Sarum in his full mayne

Tyll the houre of his death.

The abbays he solde or to farme dyd lette

The styffe-necked prelates he vnder kepte

And with theyr popery he euer mette

So longe as he had brethe.

¶ Henry the fyrste.

A[n]celme also dyd lykewyse crake Ancelme] Alcelme 1549

With Henry the fyrst and out dyd shake

Moche disobediens, and woulde not forsake

To withstande the kynges wyll.

¶ Stephyn

BY a false othe lyghtly taken

Of wyll[ia]m of canterbury stephen was not forsaken wylliam] wyllmm 1549

Kynge of Englande, but shortly shaken

Or his mynde he could fulfyll.

¶ Henry the seconde.

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THat poyson prelate Thomas_becked

A saynt by name, but with treason decked

And with popery all to_specked

To his later ende,

Proude and stoberne in all assayes

With ye neuer, but euer with nayes

His prynce to withstande thus he alwayes

His mynde dyd fully bende.

¶ Rycharde the fyrste.

TO the holy-lande archbyshop baldwyne

Of canterbury went full fyne

The kynge taryed not longe behyne

But thether also went

And not without the pryuie councell

Of the byshoppes yf I dare it tell

That they myght rule and beare the bell

Was theyr full entent,

Th'archebyshoppe of yorke alas alas

Was the kynges brother who endly dyd pas

His lyfe of byshoppes as the maner was

Nowe it is not so.

All the chaleses gyuen were

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To raunsome the kynge beyng prisonere

With Th'emperoure more than a yere

Fro thens or he myght go.

¶ Kynge Iohnn .

WHat mysery also a longe tyme was

In kyng Iohnn tyme, by that wyked as

Stephen_Leigton of Canterbury alas, alas

That euer he was borne.

¶ Henry the thyrde.

IN the fyrste yere of this kyng

The sayd Stephen dyd in bryng

The Legate Pandulphe with his blessyng

The kynge an othe to take

Whiche was theyr churche for to defende

But suche rebellions against hym dyd bende

That euer after to his lyfes ende

Peace he coulde not make.

¶ Edwarde the fyrste.

THe bishop of saint_Andrewes in scotland

With the bishop of baston made a gret band

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Of dyuers lordes and toke in hand

Agaynst this kynge to fyght

As periured rebelles the byshoppes were sent

By the kynge to the fyfte Innocent

The lordes were heddyd and in peaces rent

As traytors shulde be dyght.

¶ Edwarde the seconde.

SUche stryfe and rebellione

Had Edwarde the secone

With his lordes eche one

Tyll his latter daye

That yf his prelacy

With theyr priuie popery

Had not stonde therby

His lordes had made no fray.

¶ Edwarde the thyrde.

IN this kynges tyme the .vi. Innocent

Gaue in Englande benefyce and prebent

Untyll this kynge sent contrary commaundment

To his byshoppes all

This kynge forbadde that Peter-pens

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Shulde to Rome be gathered from hens

His mynde was and whole pretens

To gouerne great and smale.

¶ Richarde the seconde.

ARundell of canterbury in this kynges tyme

And the erle of darby for no smale crime

Banyshed were who after dyd clyme

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And the kynge was ouerthrowen.

¶ Henry the fourth.

THen was the Erle crowned kynge

Henry the .iiii. this is no lesynge

Of whom the byshops had the rulynge

After theyr owne mynde.

¶ Henry the fyfte.

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HEnry the fyfte they dyd not let go

Out of theyr rulinge, they wel dyd know

That yf they dyd a mortuall fo

No doubt they shulde hym fynde

This kynge went aboute to take awaye

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Theyr temporalties, but nyght and daye

His mynde to turne they dyd assaye

With money to conquere fraunce

So in-to fraunce the kynge dyd go

Where in short tyme he subdued so

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Townes and Castelles he dyd ouer-thro

To Fraunce a bytter chaunce.

¶ Henry the .vi.

IN Henrys dayes the .vi. this is no naye

The good duke of gloceter was cast away

By the byshop of wynchester that prelate gaye

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In stryfe dysdayne and pryde

A cardynall this prelate was made

Who shortely after to Fraunce yade

Betwene both kynges a peace to be hadde

And there he dyd abyde

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With the romyshe legate to haue his fyll

Of the popyshe power was all his wyll

But of peace he made no skyll

And that dyd well appere

For euer after to Englande fell

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Muche misery, the deuyll of hell

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Rewarde suche prelates that so doth sell

The truth both farre and nere.

¶ Edwarde the .iiii.

THis kyng wold had gotten fraunce agayn

But the prelates therat dyd sore disdayn

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And from that purpose dyd hym refrayne

Whiche caused bate and stryfe

Who lyst the Cronicles for to rede

Shall se to death howe many dyd blede

And howe the prelates helped at nede

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With swerde spere or knyfe.

¶ Rycharde the thirde.

THis kynges tyme was so shorte

That with hym to haue theyr sporte

The Popyshe prelates had no comforte

So feable was theyr myght.

¶ Henry the .vii.

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THe Deane of Paules with the prouinciall

Of the blacke-fryers and other great and smal

And the Pryor of Langley by treason dyd fall

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For lacke of godly syght

The Cardynall Morton and Fox of wynchester

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By theyr subtyle councell conf[e]dred togyther confedred] confydred 1549

Caused Bolen to be seged with fyre and spere

And many was there stroyed.

¶ Henry the .viij.

LIke cautell vsed Cardynall Wolsey

By causyng the scottes to ronne and flye

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To the Englyshe pale but them quickeley

The Norden men anoyed

And what craftye prankes the prelates dyd playe

To turne the kynges mynde clene awaye

When on the petycottes he wolde them paye

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Accordyng to theyr deserte.

Moche therof I nede not wryte

Theyr Popyshe Iuggelynge is in syght

And howe agaynst the streame they fyght

Whiche causeth them to smerte

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In this kynges tyme ye do well know

Howe great an enmye and mortall fo

The Popyshe prelates hath bene also

Agaynst Gods worde so pure

For whiche wordes onely sake

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Many an hert full often to quake

Ryght piteously they dyd make

And for that thynge I you ensure

To the whiche with legge, fote, and toe

They cease not a_pace nowe to goe

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full mekely crouchyng and full lowe

Gladly agreyng there-to

As the kynge in earth supreame

Heade of the Churche oft his realme

Onely to be oure Ioyfull beame

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We must obey and knowe

And all suche that in autoritie

His grace hath assigned to be

We must obey in eche degre

Or elles we get damnacion

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Unto oure-selfes, this is no ly

The power is gods mynyster to vs truly

Yf we do euyll he reuengeth frely

And all for oure saluacion

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The pardons also for purgatory

With the detestable synne of buggary

And all kynde of Idolatry

Gods worde hath put to flyght

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And much popery I tell you playne

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That ranckely dyd priuely raigne

As nowe is knowen abrode certayne

Gods worde hath brought to lyght

Many thynges mo were hydden

And by the papystes ouer-strydden

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Whiche abrode be nowe spredden

Dayly before your eye,

Wherat some whyne full sore

But spesially that theyr popyshe lore

Whom they had so longe in store

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Awaye nowe do flye

Had not the poore sely soulles

So often brought forth to powlles

Spred abrode the popyshe rolles

Of theyr olde fassyon

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The shameles popyshe clargye

Wolde styll haue bene hardye

And nothynge at all tardye

In theyr habomynacyon

This is no lye that I you tell

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Full cruell were they and full fell

Agaynst them that of the Gospell dyd smell

And forsoke theyr fusty popery

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They knowe now the lawe they know the payne

They can no longer clocke nor fayne

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And yf they do I tell you certayne

Theyr rewarde is playne ropery

Hereof I nede not moche to saye

Many assayde the game and knewe the playe

It were best they turne theyr mynde awaye

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And stryfe not agaynst the ryght

Yf theyr lordly power myght ones abate

Then wolde they quyckely open the gate

Of true doctryne whiche of late

Kynge Harry hath brought to lyght

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God saue kyng Edwardes noble grace

And sende his hyghnes tyme and space

To contynewe forth his fathers trace

With force strenght and myght strenght: =strength

And sende euyll chaunce and croked happes

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To all suche Popyshe forked cappes

That gaue so many cursed flappes

For Gods blessed worde

So hath he done it is certayne

They haue not wone I tell you playne

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And neuer shall tyll they haue agayne

The Pope to be theyr Lorde.

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¶ God for_bydde.

¶Thus endeth this breue Cronycle.