A67926:4452
Acts and monuments of matters most special and memorable, happening in the Church. [vol. 2, part 1] with an universal history of the same, wherein is set forth at large the whole race and course of the Church, from the primitive age to these latter times of ours, with the bloody times, horrible troubles, and great persecutions against the true martyrs of Christ, sought and wrought as well by heathen emperors, as now lately practised by Romish prelates, especially in this realm of England and Scotland. Newly revised and recognised, partly also augmented, and now the fourth time again published and recommended to the studious reader, by the author (through the help of Christ our Lord) John Fox, which desireth thee good reader to help him with thy prayer.Actes and monuments of matters most speciall and memorable, happenyng in the Church. [vol. 2, part 1] with an vniuersall history of the same, wherein is set forth at large the whole race and course of the Church, from the primitiue age to these latter tymes of ours, with the bloudy times, horrible troubles, and great persecutions agaynst the true martyrs of Christ, sought and wrought as well by heathen emperours, as nowe lately practised by Romish prelates, especially in this realme of England and Scotland. Newly reuised and recognised, partly also augmented, and now the fourth time agayne published and recommended to the studious reader, by the author (through the helpe of Christ our Lord) Iohn Foxe, which desireth thee good reader to helpe him with thy prayer.
London: printed by John Daye, 1583London: printed by Iohn Daye, 1583
No title page in the transcription: set from the catalogue record.
Modern spelling is a reading aid: the words are the author’s, only the spelling is modernized. Original shows the page as printed, with the transcription marks.
Alas sir, quoth he, what secretes do I know? I am but a poor man, and was never worthy to be so conversant either with M. Hobby, or M. Heynes, to know any part of their minds. Well, quoth the Gentleman, make it not so strange, for my lord doth know well enough in what estimation they had both thee and Anth. Person, for your religion. Of Anth. Person, quoth he, I can say nothing, for I never saw him with them in all my life. And as for my self, I can not deny, but that they have always (I ⟨p. 1215⟩thank them) taken me for an honest poor man, and showed me much kindness: but as for their secrets, they were to wise to commit them to any such as I am.
Alas sir, quoth he, what secretes doe I knowe? I am but a poore man, and was neuer worthy to be so conuersant eyther with M. Hobby, or M. Heynes, to know any part of their myndes. Wel, quoth the Gentleman, make it not so strange, for my lord doth know wel inough in what estimation they had both thee and Anth. Person, for your religion. Of Anth. Person, quoth he, I can say nothyng, for I neuer saw him with them in all my lyfe. And as for my selfe, I can not denye, but that they haue alwayes (I ⟨p. 1215⟩thanke them) taken me for an honest poore man, and shewed me much kindnes: but as for their secrets, they were to wise to commit them to any such as I am.
Peradventure quoth the Gentleman, thou fearest to utter any thing of them,1 because they were thy friends, lest they hearing thereof, might hereafter withdraw their friendship from thee, which thou needest not to fear, I warrant thee, for they are sure enough, and never like to pleasure thee more, nor no man else.
Peraduenture quoth the Gentleman, thou fearest to vtter any thing of them,1 because they were thy frends, lest they hearing therof, might hereafter withdraw their frendship from thee, which thou nedest not to feare, I warrant thee, for they are sure enough, and neuer like to pleasure thee more, ner no man els.
With that the water stood in Marbeckes eyes. Why weepest thou quoth the Gentleman? Oh sir, quoth he, I pray you pardon me, these men have done me good, wherefore I beseech the living God to comfort them as I would be comforted my self.
With that the water stoode in Marbeckes eyes. Why weepest thou quoth the Gentleman? Oh sir, quoth he, I pray you pardon me, these men haue done me good, wherfore I beseech the liuing God to comfort them as I would be comforted my selfe.
Well quoth the Gentleman, I perceive thou wilt play the fool: and then he opened one of the books, and asked him if he understood any Latin. But a little sir, quoth he. How is it then, quoth the gentleman, that thou hast translated thy book out of the latin Concordance, & yet understandest not the tongue? I will tell you quoth he. In my youth I learned the principles of my Grammar, whereby I have some understanding therein, though it be very small. Then the gentleman began to try him in the latin Concordance & English Bible which he had brought: and when he had so done, & was satisfied, he called up his man to fetch away the books, & so departed, leaving Marbecke alone in the chamber, the door fast shut unto him.
Well quoth the Gentleman, I perceiue thou wilt play the foole: and then he opened one of the bookes, and asked him if he vnderstood any Latine. But a little sir, quoth he. How is it then, quoth the gentleman, that thou hast translated thy booke out of the latin Concordance, & yet vnderstandest not the tongue? I will tell you quoth he. In my youth I learned the principles of my Grammar, wherby I haue some vnderstāding therin, though it be very smal. Then the gentleman began to try him in the latin Concordance & English Bible which he had brought: and when he had so done, & was satisfied, he called vp his man to fet away the bookes, & so departed, leauing Marbecke alone in the chamber, the dore fast shut vnto him.
About two hours after, the Gentleman came again, with a sheet of paper folded in his hand,1 & sate him down upon the beds side (as before) & said: by my troth Marbecke, my lord seeth so much wilfulness in thee, that he saith it is pity to do thee good. When wast thou last with Haynes? Forsooth, quoth he, about a three weeks ago, I was at dinner with him. And what talk, quoth the Gentleman, had he at his board? I can not tell now, quoth he. No, quoth the gentleman, thou art not so dull witted, to forget a thing in so short space. Yes sir, quoth he, such familiar talk as men do use at their boards, is most commonly by the next day forgotten,2 and so it was with me. Didst thou never, quoth the Gentleman talk with him, nor with none of thy fellows, of the Mass, or of the blessed Sacrament? No, forsooth, quoth he. Now forsooth, quoth the Gentleman, thou liest, for thou hast been seen to talk with Testwood, and other of thy fellows, an hour together in the church, when honest men have walked up and down beside you, & as ever they have drawn near you, ye have stayed your talk till they have been past you, because they should not hear whereof you talked. I deny not, quoth he, but I have talked with Testwood and other of my fellows, I cannot tell how oft, which maketh not that we talked either of the Mass, or of the sacrament: for men may common & talk of many matters, that they would not that every man should hear, and yet far from any such thing: therefore it is good to judge the best. Well quoth the Gentleman, thou must be plainer with my Lord then this, or else it will be wrong with thee, and that sooner then thou weenest. How plain will his Lordship have me to be Sir, quoth he? There is nothing that I can do and say with a safe conscience, but I am ready to do it at his Lordships pleasure. What tellest thou me quoth the gentleman of thy conscience? Thou mayest with a sate conscience utter those that be heretics, and so doing thou canst do God and the king no greater service. If I knew sir, quoth he, who were an heretic in deed, it were a thing:3 but if I should accuse him to be an heretic that is none, what a worm would that be in my conscience so long as I lived: yea it were a great deal better for me to be out of this life, then to live in such torment.
About two houres after, the Gentleman came againe, with a sheet of paper folded in his hand,
In faith quoth the Gentleman, thou knowest as well who be heretics of thy fellows at home, and who be none, as I do know this paper to be in my hand: but it maketh no matter, for they shall all be sent for and examined: and thinkest thou that they will not utter and tell of thee all that they can? yes I warrant thee. And what a foolish dolt art thou, that wilt not utter aforehand what they be, seeing it standeth upon thy deliverance to tell the truth? Whatsoever quoth he, they shall say of me, let them do it in the name of God,1 for I will say no more of them, nor of no man else, then I know. Mary quoth the Gentleman if thou wilt do so, my L. requireth no more. And for as much as now peradventure, thy wits are troubled, so that thou canst not call things even by & by to remembrance, I have brought thee ink & paper, that thou mayest excogitate with thy self, & write such things as shall come to thy mind.2 O lord, quoth Marbecke, what will my L. do? Will his lordship compel me to accuse men, and wot not whereof? No, quoth the Gentleman, my L. compelleth thee not, but gently entreated thee to say the truth. Therefore make no more ado, but write, for my Lord will have it so, and so laid down the ink and paper and went his way.
In faith quoth the Gentleman, thou knowst as well who be heretikes of thy fellowes at home, and who be none, as I doo know this paper to be in my hand: but it maketh no matter, for they shall al be sent for and examined: and thinkest thou that they will not vtter and tell of thee all that they can? yes I warrant thee. And what a folish dolt art thou, that wilt not vtter aforehand what they be, seeyng it standeth vpon thy deliueraunce to tell the truth? Whatsoeuer quoth he, they shall say of me, let thē doe it in the name of God,1 for I will say no more of thē, nor of no man els, then I know. Mary quoth the Gentleman if thou wilt doe so, my L. requireth no more. And for as much as now peraduenture, thy wits are troubled, so that thou canst not call things euen by & by to remembrance, I haue brought thee inke & paper, that thou mayest excogitate with thy selfe, & write such things as shal come to thy mynd.2 O lord, quoth Marbecke, what will my L. do? Will his lordship compell me to accuse men, and wot not whereof? No, quoth the Gentleman, my L. compelleth thee not, but gently entreated thee to say the truth. Therfore make no more adoe, but write, for my Lord will haue it so, and so layd downe the ynke and paper and went his way.
Now was Marbecke so full of heaviness and woe, that he wist not what to do, nor how to set the pen to the book to satisfy the Bishops mind,1 unless he did accuse men to the wounding of his own soul. And thus being compassed about with nothing but sorrow and care, he cried out to God in his hart, falling down with weeping tears and said:
Now was Marbecke so full of heauines and wo, that he wyst not what to do, nor how to set the pen to the booke to satisfie the Byshops mynd,1 vnlesse he did accuse men to the woundyng of his owne soule. And thus beyng compassed about with nothing but sorrow and care, he cryed out to God in his hart, fallyng downe with weping tears and sayd:
O most merciful father of heaven, thou that knowest the secret doings of all men, 1have mercy upon thy poor prisoner which is destitute of all help and comfort. Assist me (O Lord) with thy special grace, that to save this frail and vile body, which shall turn to corruption at his time, I have no power to say or to write any thing, that may be to the casting away of my christen brother: but rather (O Lord) let this vile flesh suffer at thy will and pleasure. Grant this, O most merciful father, for thy dear son Jesus Christs sake.
O most mercifull father of heauen, thou that knowest the secret doyngs of all men, 1haue mercy vppon thy poore prisoner which is destitute of all helpe and comfort. Assist me (O Lorde) with thy speciall grace, that to saue this frayle and vile bodye, which shall turne to corruption at his tyme, I haue no power to say or to write any thing, that may be to the casting awaye of my christen brother: but rather (O Lord) let this vile flesh suffer at thy will and pleasure. Grant this, O most mercifull father, for thy deare sonne Iesus Christes sake.
Then he rose up and began to search his conscience what he might write, and at last framed out these words: Where as your Lordship will have me write such things as I know of my fellows at home:1 pleaseth it your lordship to understand, that I cannot call to remembrance any manner of thing whereby I might justly accuse any one of them, unless it be that the reading of the new testament (which is common to all men) be an offence: more than this I know not.
Then he rose vp and beganne to search his conscience what he might write, and at last framed out these wordes: Where as your Lordship will haue me write such thyngs as I knowe of my fellowes at home:1 pleaseth it your lordship to vnderstand, that I cannot call to remembraunce any maner of thing whereby I might iustly accuse any one of them, vnlesse it be that the readyng of the new testament (which is common to all men) be an offence: more thē this I know not.
Now the Gentleman about his hour appointed, came again, and found Marbecke walking up and down the chamber. How now, quoth he, hast thou written nothing?1 yes Sir, quoth he, as much as I know. Well said, quoth the Gentleman, and took up the paper. Which when he had read, he cast it from him in a great fume, swearing by our lords body, that he would not for xx. pound, carry it to his L. and master. Therefore quoth he, go to it again, and advise thy self better, or else thou wilt set my Lord against thee, and then art thou utterly undone. By my troth Sir,2 quoth Marbecke, if his Lordship shall keep me here these seven years, I can say no more then I have said. Then wilt thou repent it, quoth the Gentleman, and so putting up his penner and inkhorn, departed with the paper in his hand.
Now the Gentleman about his houre appointed, came agayne, and found Marbecke walking vp and downe the chamber. How now, quoth he, hast thou written nothing?1 yes Sir, quoth he, as much as I know. Well sayd, quoth the Gentleman, and tooke vp the paper. Which when hee had read, he cast it from him in a great fume, swearyng by our lordes body, that he would not for xx. pound, cary it to his L. and maister. Therfore quoth he, go to it againe, and aduise thy selfe better, or els thou wilt set my Lord against thee, and then art thou vtterly vndone. By my troth Sir,2 quoth Marbecke, if hys Lordshyppe shall keepe me here these seuen yeares, I can say no more then I haue sayde. Then wilt thou repent it, quoth the Gentleman, and so putting vp hys penner and inkehorne, departed wyth the paper in hys hand.
The next day, which was Wednesday, by viij. of the clock in the morning,1 the bishop sent for Marbecke to his house at S. Mary Overies, and as he was entering into the bishops hall, he saw the bishop himself coming out at a door in the upper end thereof, with a roll in his hand, and going toward the great window, he called the poor man unto him and said: Marbecke, wilt thou cast away thy self? No my Lord quoth he, I trust. Yes, quoth the B. thou goest about it, for thou wilt utter nothing. What a devil made thee to meddle with the scriptures? Thy vocation was an other way, wherein thou hast a goodly gift,2 if thou didst esteem it? Yes my Lord, quoth he, I do esteem it and have done my part therein, according to that little knowledge that God hath given me. And why the devil quoth the Bishop, didst thou not hold thee there? and with that he flung away from the window out of the Hall, the poor man following him from place to place, till he had brought him into a long gallery, and being there, the bishop began on this wise: A sirrah, quoth he, the nest of you is broken I trow. And unfolding his roll (which was about an ell long) he said: Behold, here be your captains both Hobby and Haynes, with all the whole pact of thy sect about Windsor, & yet wilt thou utter none of them. Alas my lord quoth he, how should I accuse them, by whom I know nothing? Well, quoth the bish. if thou wilt needs cast away thy self, who can let thee?3 What helpers haddest thou in setting forth thy book: Forsooth my lord, quoth he none. Now quoth the bishop? how can that be? It is not possible that thou shouldest do it without help. Truly my L. quoth he, I can not tell in what part your lordship doth take it, but how soever it be, I will not deny but I did it without the help of any man save God alone. Nay quoth the B. I do not discommend thy diligence, but what shouldest thou meddle with that thing which pertained not to thee?
THe next day, which was Wednesday, by viij. of the clocke in the morning,1 the bishop sent for Marbecke to his house at S. Mary Oueries, and as he was entring into the bishops hall, he sawe the bishop himselfe commyng out at a doore in ye vpper end therof, with a rolle in his hād, and goyng toward the great wyndow, he called the poore man vnto him and sayd: Marbecke, wilt thou cast awaye thy selfe? No my Lord quoth he, I trust. Yes, quoth the B. thou goest about it, for thou wilt vtter nothing. What a deuill made thee to meddle with the scriptures? Thy vocation was an other way, wherin thou hast a goodly gyft,
And in speaking these words, one of his Chaplains, (called M. Meadow) came up and staid himself at a window, to whom the bishop said, here is a marvellous thing. This fellow hath taken upon him to set out the Concordance in english, which book when it was set out in latin was not done without the help and diligence of a dozen learned men at the least, and yet will he bear me in hand that he hath done it alone. But say what thou wilt, quoth ⟨p. 1216⟩the B. except God himself would come down from heaven and tell me so, I will not believe it: and so going forth to a window, where two great Bibles lay upon a cushion, the one in Latin, and the other in English, he called Marbecke unto him, and pointing his finger to a place in the Latin Bible, said: Canst thou English this sentence? Nay my L. quoth he, I trow I be not so cunning to give it a perfect English, but I can set out the English thereof in the English Bible. Let see, quoth the B. Then Marbecke turning the English Bible, found out the place by and by, and read it to the Bishop. So he tried him a three or four times, till one of his men came up and told him the Priest was ready to go to Mass.
And in speaking these words, one of his Chaplaynes, (called M. Medow) came vp and stayd himselfe at a window, to whō the bishop sayd, here is a marueilous thinge. This fellow hath taken vppon him to set out the Concordance in english, which book whē it was set out in latyn was not done without the helpe and dilligence of a dosen learned men at the least, and yet will he beare me in hand that he hath done it alone. But say what thou wilt, quoth ⟨p. 1216⟩the B. except God himselfe would come downe from heauen and tell me so, I will not beleue it: and so going forth to a window, where two great Bibles lay vpon a cusshion, the one in Latine, and the other in English, he called Marbecke vnto him, and pointing his finger to a place in the Latin Bible, sayd: Canst thou English this sentence? Nay my L. quoth he, I trow I be not so cunning to geue it a perfect English, but I can set out the English thereof in the English Bible. Let see, quoth the B. Then Marbecke turning the English Bible, found out the place by and by, and read it to the Bishop. So he tried hym a three or foure tymes, till one of his men came vp and tolde hym the Priest was ready to go to Masse.
And as the B. was going, said the Gentleman which had examined Marbecke in the Marshalsea the day before:1 Shall this fellow write nothing while your Lordship is at mass, for he passeth not on it. It maketh no matter quoth the Bishop, for he will tell nothing, and so went down to hear Mass, leaving Marbecke alone in the gallery. The B. was no sooner down, but the Gentleman came up again with ink and paper.2 Come sirrah quoth he, my Lord will have you occupied till Mass be done, persuading him with fair words, that he should be soon dispatched out of trouble, if he would use truth and plainness. Alas sir, quoth he, what will my Lord have me to do? for more then I wrote to his Lordship yesterday, I can not? Well, well, go to quoth the Gentleman, & make speed, and so went his way. There was no remedy but Marbecke must now write some thing: wherefore he calling to God again in his mind, wrote a few words as nigh as he could frame them, to those he had written the day before. When the B. was come from Mass, and had looked on the writing, he pushed it from him, saying: what shall this do? It hath neither head nor foot. There is a marvellous sect of them (quoth the B. to his men) for the devil cannot make one of them to bewray another. Then was there nothing among the Bishops Gentlemen, as they were making him ready to go to the court, but Crucisige upon the poor man. And when the bishops white ratchet was on him and all: well Marbecke, quoth he, I am now going to the Court, and was purposed, if I had found thee tractable, to have spoken to the kings majesty for thee and to have given thee thy meat, drink, & lodging here in mine house: but seeing thou art so wilful and so stubborn, thou shalt go to the devil for me.
And as the B. was goyng, sayd the Gentleman whiche had examined Marbecke in the Marshalsey the day before:1 Shall this fellow write nothyng whyle your Lordship is at masse, for he passeth not on it. It maketh no matter quoth the Bishop, for he will tell nothing, and so went downe to heare Masse, leauing Marbecke alone in ye gallery. The B. was no sooner downe, but the Gentleman came vp agayne with inke and paper.2 Come sirha quoth he, my Lord will haue you occupied till Masse bee done, perswadyng hym with fayre wordes, that he shoulde bee soone dispatched out of trouble, if he would vse truth and plainenes. Alas sir, quoth he, what will my Lorde haue me to do? for more then I wrote to his Lordship yesterday, I can not? Well, well, goe to quoth the Gentleman, & make speed, and so went his way. There was no remedie but Marbecke must nowe write some thyng: wherefore he calling to God againe in his mind, wrote a few words as nye as he could frame them, to those he had written the day before. When the B. was come from Masse, and had looked on the writing, he pusht it from him, saying: what shall this do? It hath neither head nor foote. There is a maruelous sect of them (quoth the B. to hys men) for the deuill cannot make one of them to bewray another. Then was there nothyng among the Bishops Gentlemen, as they were making him ready to go to the court, but Crucisige vpon the poore man. And when the bishops white ratchet was on him and all: well Marbecke, quoth he, I am now going to the Court, and was purposed, if I had foūd thee tractable, to haue spoken to the kings maiesty for thee and to haue geuen thee thy meat, drinke, & lodging here in myne house: but seyng thou art so wilful and so stubburne, thou shalt go to the deuill for me.
Then was he carried down by the B. men, with many railing words.1 And coming through the great chamber, there stood D. London, with two more of his fellows, waiting the bishops coming: and passing by them into the Hall, he was there received of his keeper, and carried to prison again. It was not half an hour after, ere that the B. sent one of his Gentlemen to the under keeper called Stokes, commanding him to put irons upon Marbecke, and to keep him fast shut in a chamber alone, and when he should bring him down to dinner or supper, to see that he spake to no man, nor no man to him: & furthermore, that he should suffer no manner of person (not his own wife) to come & see him or minister any thing unto him. When the porter (who was the cruellest man that might be, to all such as were laid in for any matter of religion, and yet as God would,2 favourable to this poor man) had received this commandment from the B. he clapped irons upon him & shut him up, giving warning to all the house, that no man should speak or talk to Marbecke, whensoever he was brought down, and so he continued the space of iij. weeks & more, till his wife was suffered to come unto him.
Then was he caried downe by the B. men, with many railing words.1 And comming through the great chamber, there stood D. London, with two mo of hys fellows, waiting the bishops comming: and passing by them into the Hall, he was there receiued of his keper, and caried to prison againe. It was not halfe an houre after, ere that the B. sent one of his Gentlemen to the vnder keeper called Stokes, commanding him to put irons vpon Marbecke, and to keepe him fast shut in a chamber alone, and when he should bring him downe to dinner or supper, to see that he spake to no man, nor no man to him: & furthermore, yt he should suffer no maner of person (not his owne wife) to come & see him or minister any thing vnto him. When the porter (who was the cruellest man that might be, to al such as were laid in for any matter of religion, and yet as God would,2 fauorable to this poore man) had receyued this cō mandement from the B. he clapt irons vpon him & shutte him vp, geuing warning to all the house, yt no man should speake or talke to Marbecke, whensoeuer he was brought downe, and so he continued the space of iij. wekes & more, till his wife was suffered to come vnto him.
