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A pleasant Dialogue betweene plaine Truth and blind Ignorance

God speed you, aged Father,
and giue you a good day:
What is the cause I pray you,
so sadly here to stay:
And that you keepe such gazing
on this decaied place:
The which for superstition
good Princes downe did race.
Chill tell thee by my vazonne
that sometime che haue knowne
A vaire and goodly Abbey,
stand here of brick and stone:
And many holy Friers,
as ich may zay to thee:
Within these goodly Cloysters
che did full often zee.
Then I must tell thee Father,
in truth and veritie:
A sort of greater hypocrites,
thou couldst not likely see.
Deceiuing of the simple,
with false and feigned lyes:
But such an order, truly,
Christ neuer did deuise.
Ah, ah, che zmell thee now, man,
che know well what thou art:
A vellow of new learning,
che wis not worth a vart:
Vor when we had the old Law
a mery world was then:
And euery thing was plenty,
among all zorts of men.
Thou giuest me an answer,
as did the Iewes sometime
Vnto the Prophet Jeremy,
when he accusd their crime.
Twas merry (said the people)
and ioyful in our Realme,
Which did offer spice cakes
vnto the Queene of heauen.
Chill tell thee what, good vellow;
beuore the Vriers went hence,
A bushell of the best wheat
was zold for vorteene pence:
And vorty Eggs a penny,
that were both good and new:
And this che zay my selfe haue zeene
and yet ich am no Iewe.
Within the sacred Bible,
we find it written plaine:
The latter dayes should troublesome
and dangerous be certaine:
That we should be selfe louers,
and charitie waxen cold:
Then tis not true Religion,
that makes this griefe to hold.
Chill tell thee my opinion plaine,
and chould that well ye knew,
Ich care not for this Bible Booke,
tis too big to be true.
Our blessed Ladies Psalter,
zhall for my mony go:
Such pretty prayers as there be,
the Bible cannot zhew.
Now hast thou spoken truly,
for in that Booke indeed:
No mention of our Lady,
or Romish Saints we read.
For by the blessed Spirit,
that Booke indited was:
And not by simple persons,
as is your foolish Masse.
Cham zure they are not voolish
that made the Masse che trow:
Why man, ’tis all in Latine,
and vooles no Latine knowe.
Were not our Vathers wisemen,
and they did like it well:
Who very much reioyced
to hear the zacring bell.
But many Kings and Prophets,
as I may say to thee:
Haue wisht the light that you haue,
and neuer could it see.
For what art thou the better
a Latine song to heare:
And vnderstandest nothing,
that they sing in the Quire:
O hold thy peace che pray thee,
the noise was passing trim:
To heare the Friers zinging,
as we did enter in.
And then to zee the Roodloft,
zo brauely zet with Zaints:
And now to zee them wanting,
my heart with zorrow faints.
The Lord did giue commandement,
no Image thou shouldst make,
Nor that vnto Idolatry
you should your selfe betake.
The golden Calfe of Israell,
Moses did therefore spoile:
And Baal his Priests and Temple,
he brought to vtter foyle.
But our Lady of Walsingham was zure an holy Zaint:
And many men in pilgrimage,
did shew to her complaint.
Yea zweet Zaint Thomas Becket,
and many others moe:
The Holy Maid of Kent, likwise
did many wonders zhow,
Such Saints are well agreeing,
to your profession sure:
And to the men that made them
so precious and so pure.
The one was found a Traitor,
and iudged worthy death,
The other eke for Treason
did end his hatefull breath.
Yea yea it is no matter,
dispraise them how you wille:
But zure they did much goodnesse,
when they were with vs still.
We had our holy water,
and holy bread likewise:
And many holy Reliques
we zaw before our eyes.
And all this while they feed you,
with vaine and sundry showes,
Which neuer Christ commanded,
as learned Doctors knowes.
Search then the holy Scriptures,
and thou shalt plainly see:
That headlong to damnation,
they alwayes trained thee.
If it be true good vellow:
as thou dost zay to me:
Then to my Zauiour Iesus
alone then will I flie.
Beleeuing in the Gospell,
and passion of his Zonne:
And with these subtill Papists
ich haue for euer done.
F I N I S.

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A pleasant Dialogue betweene plaine Truth and blind Ignorance - THOMAS DELONEY