%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> A Complaynt agaynst the wicked enemies / of Christ in that they haue so tyrannusly handled the poore Chrystians. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1564-1564 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 04/30/2012 32096

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Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

S121722 ALas what grefe is this / vnto all chrysten men: Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 18277 A Complaynt agaynst the wicked enemies / of Christ in that they haue so tyrannusly handled the poore Chrystians. A Complaynt agaynst the wicked enemies of Christ in that they haue so tyrannusly handled the poore Chrystians. A Complaint against the wicked enemies of Christ in that they have so tyrannously handled the poor Christians. 1564-1564

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 Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction/ health alcohol Americas animals/ nature Bible/ biblical figures buildings/ architecture catastrophe children class clothing/ appearance country/ nation crime death economics/ commerce entertainments family folklore gender holidays/ seasons infidelity labor/ craft law London love maritime marriage military/ war monstrosity mythology/ Classical news nobility/ court politics/ government procreation punishment race/ ethnicity religious concepts religious figures religious groups royalty rural life servitude sex/ sexuality supernatural/ magic travel trickery/ deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgar humor youth/ age Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 4/30/2012 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America country/ nation politics/ government religious groups Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 4/30/2012 9:59:57 AM XBallad Grant, Danielle Created XML Version of Ballad 4/30/2012 9:59:57 AM Transcription Supervisor Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/30/2012 9:59:57 AM Double-Key Comparison and Merging McCants, Kristy Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/30/2012 9:59:57 AM Transcriptionist Two Grafals, Michael Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/30/2012 9:59:57 AM Transcriptionist One Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 6/22/2011 Checker Jonathan Forbes Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 5/19/2011 Checker Gillian Mellon Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 4/26/2011 Bibliographer Grafals Michael Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 4/26/2011 Checker Grafals Michael Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 4/26/2011 Checker Grafals Michael Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
<seg n="1" rend="left">A Complaynt agaynst the wicked enemies</seg> <seg n="2" rend="left">of Christ in that they have so tyrannusly handled the poore Chrystians.</seg>
ALas what grefe is this unto all chrysten men: That tirants stil do raine to worke mischeif agen. They prosper in the land, whose practyse late hath bene, Both to destroy our realme and Elisabeth our Quene. How dyd they Tower her and kept her there in thrall, When they could not charge her with any cryme at all. But they beyng thyrsty woulde fayne have suckt her bloud, For when thei put her there they ment her grace no good Whiche was the prelates fetche for why thei stode in awe, That if her grace did raygne she would reject ther Lawe. Wherfore this cursed sorte dyd geve many a saye, To take her in a tryppe to make her cleane away. Such ympes of Sathans kynde do stand and florysh styll, Whiche do suppresse all truth and do maynteine al yll. For they have spoild this realme and made it very Poore They brought in Foren power to Turne us out of doore. Suche fruteles trees do growe they spred abrode and stande, Whose cursed Branches lyve and do Corrupt the lande, For when the Olyve trees and eke the plesaunt Vynes Did bringe us forth good frutes and delectable wines. They sharpened theyr Toles to cut them by the grounde, That they might springe no more nor never more be founde. For sume they brinte with fyer and some agayne they pinde, And sum they tare and rackt and sum remayne behinde. Againe this cursed sorte dyd scrape out of the moulde The carkes of the dead and many mo they woulde. Yf tyme had servde theyr turne according to ther trust, Kynge Harry and his sunne had both ben Burnt to duste, Doth it not nowe appeare what love and eke what seale They had unto our Kinges that Rulde our common weale.
Howe did they raile on them in pulpettes every where, With vyle opprobrious termes and that without all feare. Alas that suche should lyve that seke all to destroy, Suche members woulde be ryd that do nothinge but noye, For where they hunt to spoile ther natures can not sease, Tyll they have murdred those that be the sunnes of peace. Alas I rue it muche that suche Pypicked pates Shoulde be about a Quene or come within her gates. Ther counsels be corrupt for they smel al of bloude, Ther practys be all yll how can they then be good, Who can or will commende this charitie of preistes, That be suche murtherers and have suche blodye fystes. Howe coldly doo they praye for Elisabeth our quene, Ther doinges have ben heard ther practys have bene sene. O cursed sede of Cayne and members of the Devill All destitute of grace, replenished with evyll. Who love the name of you, but suche as ye do brybe, O ye blinde balamites o vyle and cursed Trybe, The infantes in the wombe have cause to Curse your sede, And eke the fatherles for your accursed dede. Howe many live this day whose Parentes ye have kilde, And turned ther Children out into the stretes and filde. Ther to lye and pyne and sayd that it was Synne Eyther to geve them foode or els to take them in. What pitie were it nowe to tosse and to turne them, To hewe them in peces to Broyle and to burne them. To fle them from the Croune to the soules of theyr fete. To trye if suche tormentes be Pleasaunt and swete. And specially Bonner the fier woulde fayne tast him, But burne him it coulde not his grece wolde so Bast him.
Wolde god it might trye him for if that day were cume, Many handes would be redy to geve Fyer to his Bum. That smithfelde might smel him and here the tyrauntes voice, That fatherles Children and infantes might Rejoyce. Whose fathers and mothers this tyraunt hath furthered, To be cruelly burnt and most shamefully murthred, O trayterus tyrant o false perjured Best, Thy broylinge and burning is knowen and manifest. And all thy tyrannes which thou hast frequented And also hast practyst, and lewdly invented. How hast thou tried them with torche and with taper Burning their handes and feete to make them to waver. Yea how didst thou stock them o murtherus thefe, Ther necke there handes and feete onlye for their beleif. Both within thy Cole house and in the lollers tower, The poore and simple men had many a sharpe shower. Through thy good counselers Clunnye and John avales, These are the two rake helles that brought the all the tales. How were the poore lodgyd, how were their bellys fedde. With hunger and Coulde and stones to rest ther hed. Alas what beastes are they that lurke under that wede, Are they not Raveninge wolves judge them by ther deed. What injurie were it nowe to rid those blody bestes, That seketh frendship now with monye and with festes, Now thei have spoild our realme they fere and stand in dout, If briberie helpe them not then will ther knavery out But god for his mercy sease the blody streme, And graunt that his glory may florishe in our Realme.
FINIS.