%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> An answere to maister Smyth / seruaunt to the kynges most royall maiestye. And clerke of the / Quenes graces counsell / though most vnworthy. / Whether ye trolle in or els trolle out / ye trolle vntruly / loke better about. Gray, William University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer 1540-1540 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 10/18/2018 36269

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S2985 WHere as of late two thinges ye parused / Concerning the treason of Thomas Crumwell Printed on the recto and verso of a single sheet. Society of Antiquaries of London - Broadsides Editor none none none none Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 8 1: 8 An answere to maister Smyth / seruaunt to the kynges most royall maiestye. And clerke of the / Quenes graces counsell / though most vnworthy. / Whether ye trolle in or els trolle out / ye trolle vntruly / loke better about. An answer to master Smyth servant to the king's most royal majesty. And clerk of the Queene's grace's counsel though most unworthy. Whether ye troll in or else troll out ye troll untruly look better about. Gray, William Printer Rychard Bankes 1540-1540 John Turke

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<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">A</hi>n answere to maister Smyth</seg> <seg n="2" rend="left">servaunt to the kynges most royall majestye. And clerke of the</seg> <seg n="3" rend="left">Quenes graces counsell / though most unworthy.</seg> <lb/> <seg n="4" rend="left">Whether ye trolle in or els trolle out</seg> <seg n="5" rend="left">ye trolle untruly / loke better about.</seg>
WHereas of late two thinges ye parused Concerning the treason of Thomas Crumwell Undoubtedly both your wyt and your syght were confused Lackyng a medecyne / blyndnesse to expell Put on your spectacles and marke it well Than shall you se / and say / maugre your hart That trolle in / hath played a true subjectes part For whereas trolle a way (as ye say) tolde trouth Declaring the offences / wherin Crumwell offended It was not the thyng / wherwith troll in was wroth For in that poynt / Troll in / Troll away commended But this was the mater / wherfore they contended Trolle away / under pretence of trollyng against treason Practised proude popery / as appereth by reason. And ye supporting the same / your pen runneth at large Boldly as blynde bayerd / ye write in his defence And in your myschevous maner / ye lay falsly to my charge Sayeng / who that craftely coloureth any others offence Of lykelyhode in his owne hert / hath the same pretence But here ye speke of lykelyhode / and so blyndly go by gesse your fondnesse is the folyssher / and my faute is the lesse. An horse beyng nothing galled / of force ye may make to kycke With spurryng and with prickinge / more than reason wolde requyre But if the horse were lustye / coragious and also quycke ye might be the fyrst perchaunce / that might lye in the myre As wyse as ye / have ben drowned in their owne desyre Many a man / anothers mischefe / of malyce wyll prepare And yet him selfe the fyrst / that is caught in the snare. Bycause of making stryfe (ye say) ye wyll take neither parte But here ye breke promyse / for agaynst all reason and right Speking with your mouth / that you thinke not with your harte Agaynst trolle in / ye take trolle awayes parte / with all your myght Thus all thinges lyghtly that ye make / amonge themselves do fyght Wherfore whatsoever ye write or saye / gretly it shall not skyll For if ye speke anything wysely / I thinke it be agaynst your wyll. Ve illi per qem scan- dalum venit, Luce, xvii. But blyndly have ye sclaundred me / good maister Thomas Smyth Scraping togither scriptures / your madnesse to mayntayne Truly your rude rowsty reason / being so farre from the pyth Had nede of suche a cloke / to kepe it from the rayne For all the worlde may perceyve / how falsly ye forge and fayne yet styll you affyrme your falshed / as though ye knew thinges presysely Christes blessyng on your hert / forsoth ye have done full wysely. ye rumble amonge the scryptures / as one that were halfe mad Wrestyng and writhyng them / accordyng to your owne purpose Facyonyng and framyng them / to your sayenges good and bad Lyke as the holy Papystes / were wont to paynt their popysshe glose Do ye take the holy scripture to be lyke a shypmans hose: Nay nay / although a shypmans hose / wyll serve all sortes of legges yet Christes holy scrypture / wyll serve no rotten dregges.
Counsell with some tayler / whan that ye wryte nexte Take measure of divinyte / before ye cut the facyon So shall ye square your scryptures / and the better trym your texte And than shall men of lernyng / commende your operacyon But howe shulde he be connyng / that knoweth not his occupacyon Howe shuld a cobler cut a cote / or a smyth tast good wyne Or how shulde you scarsely a clerke / be nowe a good devyne? What lyvyng man (excepte it were you) beynge in his right wyttes Wolde write as ye have written / and all not worth a myte I thinke it be some pevysshe pange / that cometh over your hert by fyttes Under the coloure of charyte / to worke your cruell spyte If men wolde marke your madnesse / and beholde your develyssh delyte Shuld se how ye wrest the scriptures to your sayeng / not worth .ii. chippes And joyne them all togither / as just as Germans lyppes. Whan ye have spytte your poyson / and sayde even the worst ye can Than come ye in with charite / wyllyng all stryfe to cease But surely good maister Smyth / ye speke lyke a mery man Moche lyke a comen pyke quarell / that stryfe wolde encrease Continually cryeng in frayes / holde / kepe the kynges pease But those be prety peace makers / in dede for every daye That styll bestowe mo strokes / than they that began the fraye. What wyse man wolde not laugh / for to here you bragge and boste Of your name / your servyce / of your offyce and all this gere As though ye were prymrose perelesse / and a ruler of the roste By the declaryng wherof / ye thinke to put pore men in fere But your braggyng and your bostyng / shall neyther be here nor there As longe as I may indifferently / be suffred to use my pen ye shall never be able to face me out / with a carde of ten. Qui fe lau- dat stercore coronabitur, A wyse man wolde have praysed god / and than prayed for the kyng The which of their gret goodnesse / to your offyce dyd you call And not to have bragged therof / and than put it out in printyng For ye stande not yet so sure / but it is possyble ye may fall And though your offyce be great / I trust your power be but small Or els parchaunce ye wold quickly thurst a poore man among the thornes But god almyghty provydeth well to sende a shrewde cow short hornes. Christ preserve the kynges most noble grace / & sende him longe lyfe Even Henry the eight (next under god) of this church / the hed supreme Christ preserve & kepe quene Katheryn / his most lawfull wyfe Christ preserve Prince Edwarde / the very right heyre of this realme Christ styll ensence their noble counsell / with the influence of heaven Christ for his tendre mercy / amende all thing that is amys Christ sende maister Smyth more charite / whan his good pleasure is. Amen.
By me a poore man whose herte if ye knewe Wolde be the kynges servaunt as fayne as you. W.G. Imprinted at London by me Rychard Bankes / Cum privilegio ad imprimendum solum. And be to be solde in Pater noster rowe by Johnn Turke / at the sygne of the Rose.