A TRUE AND PLAINE GENEALOGY
OR PEDIGREE OF ANTICHRIST, WHEREIN IS CLEERLY
DISCOVERED THAT HEE IS LINEALLY DESCENDED
FROM THE DIVELL.
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WHo so thou art that dost desire to know,
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The stock whereof proud Antichrist did grow
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Whom JESUS CHRIST did long before fore-tell,
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Should in the Church against the Church rebell,
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Making her mourne with pittifull complaints,
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And being drunken with blood of her Saints,
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Should tyrannizing over her remayne,
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Untill his pride be deeply dide in graine;
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And then both he and's Kingdome downe should fall
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Without redresse or any helpe at all:
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Whose coming should not be with claps of Thunders,
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But signes and miracles and lying wonders.
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My rusticke Muse declares his very name,
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His pedigree, and of what house he came.
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There was a brave heroicke Gentleman,
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As ancient as since the world began,
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Whose industry and policy was such,
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That all the world besides had not so much;
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His Engines, Stratagems, and feats of Warre,
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Made his dominions to extend as farre
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As Alexanders, that's sirnam'd the Great,
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Such was his prowesse by the Martiall feate,
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Conquering his trade, Apollyon his name,
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Of that grand worthy, this great worthy came,
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One deadly-Darkenesse was his eldest sonne;
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And thus (in truth) this royall race begun.
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And then that Darknesse did beget by chance,
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A son, an heire, and cald him Ignorance;
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Of his true byrth ther's no man need enquire,
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You see the sonne is fully like the Sire.
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This Ignorance lived a while, and then
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He begot Error and his bretheren,
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Error begot Freewill and Selfe-conceit,
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Freewill got Merit, that deceiving bait,
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Merit begot Forgetfullnesse of Grace;
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And then his sonne Transgression tooke his place:
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And that Transgression did beget Distrust,
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Who deeming God lesse mercifull then Just:
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Maugre his justice to maintaine his action,
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Begot a sonne and call'd him Satisfaction.
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This Satisfaction, e're his father dide,
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Being excessively possest with pride,
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Rejected quite Christs bloody sacrifice,
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Which once for all he offered in such wise
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That he for all his peoples sinnes thereby,
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Did Gods pure justice fully satisfie.
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The cause why Satisfaction did this thing,
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Was, that thereby he might to credit bring
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His onely sonne, the sacrifice o'th Masse,
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As proud a Knave as e're his father was:
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For if to him come any one or other,
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Desiring helpe for some deceased brother:
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Upon condition of a golden fee,
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Hee'l contradict the mighty Gods decree,
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And disanull his judgements past also,
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And bring to weale whom God hath plac'd in woe,
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For if you'll trust him, this man doth excell,
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Hee'l hunt the place where all the Furies dwell,
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And search the Lymboes: nay, hee'l not be sory
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To search throughout the furious Purgatory,
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And every nooke and secret corner there,
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Bee't in the Fier, Water, Earth or Aire,
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(For though that he hath fetched thousands thence,
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And did withall their deadly sinnes dispence,
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Has quite forgot, his wits are so decay'd,
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Whereof, wherein, and when that place was made,)
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But having found him, then he will surpasse,
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And bring the man from where he never was,
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Unto a place of myrth and melody:
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Where, if he were not, he can never be.
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The Priests annoynting his successor was,
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And Superstition thereon came to passe.
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This Superstition was a royall thing,
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For he begot Hypocrisie the King.
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Hypocrisie got Gaine by offering,
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And of that Gaine did Purgatory spring,
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Then Purgatory passing reasons bounder,
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Was certainely, Anniversaries founder:
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He by a stranger without Matrimony,
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Did then beget the Churches Patrimony.
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Then Mammon, of Iniquity his sonne,
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Begot a Child, as his Father had done:
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A worthy sparke, Abundance was his name,
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And of Abundance, Ease, (a gallant) came.
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Ease begot Cruelty, and he Dominion;
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Dominion, Pompe; and Pompe, Ambition:
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And of this man old Simony did grow,
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A bribing Knave, how cleere soever he show,
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This man of issue was not without hope,
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For why? he liv'd to see his sonne the Pope;
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Who in this world doth beare a great renowne,
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And on his head doth weare a triple Crowne,
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Whose charity if it were to his power,
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He could clense Purgatory in an hower;
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And send the soules that in that place do dwell,
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Straight up to Heaven from that smoky Cell.
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He thinkes perhaps his power hereon is grounded
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The former place his predecessors founded:
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And for the latter none can him withstand,
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He beares the Keyes of heaven in his hand.
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But here's a griefe that to a mischiefe grew,
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Because his Holinesse let in so few,
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Or else just none, which is a grievous thing,
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His Keyes have lost theyr use of opening.
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And as the Keyes oth' Pharisees his brothers
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Shut heavens gate against themselves and others.
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So he by his doth now nought else but shut
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That gate gainst all that in him credit put;
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And yet he vaunts himselfe to be Christs Vicar,
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I wonder much his wit should be no quicker,
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For Vicars have not (that were too too bad)
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A greater power then e're theyr Parsons had:
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Now Christ his Parson, openly did show
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His Kingdome was not of this world below.
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But Pope his Vicar commands all estates,
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Kings, Emperors, and greatest Potentates,
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And turnes his power to furious tyranny,
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Against that Christ and all his company:
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And by his rage they now abide affliction,
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He's Antichrist without all contradiction.
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Thus TRUETH (A GEM) hath here discovered that
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Which many a man hath long time wondered at:
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If thou aright these Roman letters frame:
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Inquire no more, thou hast the Authors name.
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