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EBBA 37045

British Library - Huth
Ballad XSLT Template
A balade of a preist that loste his nose
For sayinge of masse as I suppose.

WHoso list heare of a wonderous chaunce
Of late I mette with one did me tell
The craftiest priest in England or Fraunce
Hath lost his nose, and how should he smell
He went to his freinde his mynde to disclose
And as he came home one cut of his nose.

It is a gentleman, a priest he tolde me
To tell you his name I do not much passe
It is olde syr John the vycar of Lee
which rayles at gods boke & reeles at his masse
His cankarde mynde he cannot kepe close
yet he served him shrewdly that cut of his nose.

His smeller is smitten cleane from his face
yet was there but one as he did saye
which caught him and pluckt of his nose in that place
A hie man, a lowe man, a foxe, or a graye
Tenne shillinges he saith in his purse he did lose
I thinke he lied therof, but not of his nose

Great serching was sence that smeller to seke
Some for hast left their scabbert at home
Some had gunnes some halberts some forked pikes
some in shyrts of maile like a lusty mome
There was never sene before I suppose
Such tossing and tombling for a priestes nose.

Som men that thought him no harme in ther life
But because they feare God, and do go about
To live with pure conscience & be without strife
Thei ar bound to the peas now for a priests snout
But because he can kepe mens horedom so close
Therfore they make such a worke for his nose.

Because his scollers did mock at his masse
He said he wolde make bloud run by their heles
But God hath turned the plage from their arse
And he with his nose did bloudy the stiles
with bloud I hard saye as red as a rose
he dronke well belike before he lost his nose.

What maner of nose was it sir ye sought for
A black nose, a red nose, or one like my fist
To be without nose was the marke of an whore
And now it is the marke of an whorishe priest
And now you are ryd right well of the pose
why do you make suche a worke for your nose.

Or was your nose somewhat wan or pale
A blewe nose a bottle nose, or was it yellowe
Nos autem have sene it sometime at the ale
Libera nos salva nos from the swap of the swalowe
But why did ye use syr to lye so and glose
was it any mervayle though ye lost your nose.

Some men are living to whom he did say
Seing he knew the truth, if ever he sayd masse
He wisht that some membre might be cut away,
Now at his request it is come to passe
Much work he doth make for the lomp he did lose
well, what will ye geve syr for a newe nose.

But what shal we say, yf men do not lye
who cut of the priestes nose it is harde to judge
But he himself I think did it of envy
And then to bewite it to them he did grudge
That therby they might ther kingdom up close
As sometime Sopirus did snap of his nose

For sometime he sayth it was but a mome
And eftsone a talle man this he doth name
But styll he affyrmeth it was but one
which caught him and brought his nose out of frame
Could one man so do it as you suppose
Except he were willing to have of his nose.

Remedie is none, but this thinge is true
His snout is snapts of how[s]oever it was
I thinke it were best to make him a new
As sone he may do it, as god at his masse
yf he cannot make him a snout, I suppose
he cannot make god no more then his nose

Seing the true God is gone from your towne
And god Pean & Baccus doth rule in his stede
with hoysty and soysty over shoulder & crowne
yet hath he no more life then a lompe of leade
yf he have, then charge him that man to disclose
which met you & caught you, & cut of your nose.

But yf you do use the true god to mocke
And geve his honor to your god in the purse
Loke whom ye blesse, and in blyndnesse rocke
The living god will you & your blessinges curse
And at length your falsehed to all men disclose
And then no dout your head wyl folow your nose

Take hede I saye you chaplyns of Balle
Though ye have fed longe at Jesabels borde
Not longe but helias shall geve you a fall
Repent and returne to the livinge Lorde
Though ye pricke till bloud runne by your toes
ther wil a worse chance com then lesing your nose

I wyll not pray for you, let them do that liste
For feare God with me should be miscontent
Seyng of purpose the holy ghost you resiste
And if ye have cleane forgotten to repent
when God shall the secretes of all men disclose
ye shal have as much help as the preist of his nose

But you have a vauntage syr if you mark all
if a mous catch your god, when ye have made it
Then ye may catche the mouse fast by the walle
For how can you hurt your nose except ye had it
The proverbe is true in you I suppose
He cannot tell where to turne his nose.

God save the Quene.

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