A breve cronycle of the Bysshope of Romes blessynge and of his prelates beneficiall and charitable rewardes. from the tyme of Kynge Heralde vnto this daye.

¶ Kynge Herolde . IN the tyme of Herolde the Kynge Robert of canterbury had his banyshinge Ye may be sure for no good lyuynge That euer man harde saye To Wyllyam Conqueror the byshop went To whom Alexander a banner sent Of clene remyssion theyr wycked entent Was Englande to dekaye .

¶ William conqueror . THe abbeys of Englande great & stoute This kynge caused to be serched oute The money there founde all rounde aboute Was brought to the kynges treasure The byshop of canterbury with many mo And dyuers abbottes were depryued also And were made quondams ye may well know For no good demenure .

¶ William the seconde . WIth william the .ii. what stryfe dyd make Byshop Ancelme & howe stoute a crake Made Rafe of chechester for the trybutꝭ sake For women that priestes dyd paye This kynge in posession had certayne The byshoprycke of canterbury & dyd retayne Wynton and Sarum in his full mayne Tyll the houre of his death . The abbays he solde or to farme dyd lette The styffe necked prelates he vnder kepte And with theyr popery he euer mette So longe as he had brethe .

¶ Henry the fyrste . ALrelme also dyd lykewyse crake With Henry the fyrst & out dyd shake Moche disobediens , and woulde not forsake To withstande the kynges wyll .

¶ Stephyn . By a false othe lyghtly taken Of wyllm̄ of canterbury stephen was not forsaken Kynge of Englande , but shortly shaken Or his mynde he could fulfyll .

¶ Henry the seconde . THat poyson prelate Thomas becked A saynt by name , but with treason decked And with popery all to specked To his later ende , Proude and stoberne in all assayes with ye neuer , but euer with nayes His prynce to withstande thus he alwayes His mynde dyd fully bende .

¶ Rycharde the fyrste . TO the holy lande archbyshop baldwyne Of canterbury went full fyne The kynge taryed not longe behyne But thether also went And not without the pryuie councell Of the byshoppes yf I dare it tell That they myght rule and beare the bell Was theyr full entent , Tharche byshoppe of yorke alas alas Was the kyngis brother who endly dyd pas His lyfe of byshoppes as the maner was Nowe it is not so . All the chaleses gyuen were To raunsome the kynge beyng prisonere With Th emperoure more than a yere Fro thens or he myght go .

¶ Kynge Iohn . WHat mysery also a longe tyme was In kyng Iohn tyme , by that wycked as Stephen Leigton of Canterbury alas , alas That euer he was borne .

¶ Henry the thyrde . IN the fyrste yere of this kyng The sayd Stephen dyd in bryng The Legate Pandulphe with his blessyng The kynge an othe to take whiche was theyr churche for to defende But suche rebellions against hym dyd bende That euer after to his lyfes ende Peace he coulde not make .

¶ Edwarde the fyrste . THe bishop of saint Andrewes in scotland with the bishop of baston made a gret band Of dyuers lordes and toke in hand Agaynst this kynge to fyght As periured rebelles the byshoppes were sent By the kynge to the fyfte Innocent The lordes were heddyd and in peaces rent As traytors shulde be dyght .

¶ Edwarde the seconde . SUche stryfe and rebellione Had Edwarde the secone With his lordes eche one Tyll his latter daye That yf his prelacy With theyr priuie popery Had not stonde therby His lordes had made no fray .

¶ Edwarde the thyrde . IN this kynges tyme the .vi. Innocent Gaue in Englande benefyce and prebent Vntyll this kynge sent contrary commaundment To his byshoppes all This kynge forbadde that Peter pens Shulde to Rome be gathered from hens His mynde was and whole pretens To gouerne great and smale .

¶ Richarde the seconde . A Rundell of canterbury in this kyngis tyme And the erle of darby for no smale crime Banyshed were who after dyd clyme And the kynge was ouer throwen .

¶ Henry the fourth . THen was the Erle crowned kynge Henry the .iiii. this is no lesynge Of whom the byshops had the rulynge After theyr owne mynde .

¶ Henry the fyfte . HEnry the fyfte they dyd not let go Out of theyr rulinge , they wel dyd know That yf they dyd a mortuall fo No doubt they shulde hym fynde This kynge went aboute to take awaye Theyr temporalties , but nyght and daye His mynde to turne they dyd assaye With money to conquere fraunce So in to fraunce the kynge dyd go Where in short tyme he subdued so Townes and Castelles he dyd ouer thro To Fraunce a bytter chaunce .

¶ Henry the .vi. IN Henrys dayes the .vi. this is no naye The good duke of glocet was cast away By the byshop of wynchester that prelate gaye In stryfe dysdayne and pryde A cardynall this prelate was made Who shortely after to Fraunce yade Betwene both kynges a peace to be hadde And there he dyd abyde With the romyshe legate to haue his fyll Of the popyshe power was all his wyll But of peace he made no skyll And that dyd well appere For euer after to Englande fell Muche misery , the deuyll of hell Rewarde suche prelates that so doth sell The truth both farre and nere .

¶ Edwarde the .iiii. THis kyng wold had gotten fraunce agayn But the prelatis the rat dyd sore disdayn And from that purpose dyd hym refrayne Whiche caused bate and stryfe Who lyst the Cronicles for to rede Shallse to death howe many dyd blede And howe the prelates helped at nede With swerdespere or knyfe .

¶ Rycharde the thirde . THis kynges tyme was so shorte That with hym to haue theyr sporte The Popyshe prelates had no comforte So feable was thyr myght .

¶ Henry the .vii. THe Deane of Paules with the prouinciall Of the blacke fryers & other great & smal And the Pryor of Langley by treason dyd fall For lacke of godly syght The Cardynall Morton & fox of wynchester By theyr subtyle councell consydred togyther Caused Bolen to beseged with fyre and spere And many was there stroyed .

¶ Henry the .viij. LIke cautell vsed Cardynall Wolsey By causyng the scottes to ronne and flye To the Englyshe pale but them quickeley The Norden men anoyed And what craftye prankes the prelatis dyd playe To turne the kynges mynde cleue awaye When on the petycottes he wolde them paye Accordyng to theyr deserte . Moche therof I nede not wryte Theyr Popyshe Iuggelynge is in syght And howe agaynst the streame they fyght Which causeth them to smerte In this kynges tyme ye do well know Howe great an enmye and mortall fo The Popyshe prelates hath bene also Agaynst Gods worde so pure For whiche wordes onely sake Many an hert full often to quake Ryght piteously they dyd make And for that thynge I you ensure To the whiche with legge , fote , and toe They cease not a pace nowe to goe Full mekely crouchyng and full lowe Gladly agreyng there to As the kynge in earth supreame Heade of the Churche of this realme Onely to be oure Ioyfull beame We must obey and knowe And all suche that in autoritie His grace hath assigned to be We must obey in eche degre Orelles we get damnacion Vnto oure selfes , this is no ly The power is gods mynyster to vs truly Yf we do euyll he reuengeth frely And all for oure saluacion The pardons also for purgatory With the detestable synne of buggary And all kynde of Idolatry Gods worde hath put to flyght And muche popery I tell you playne That ranckely dyd priuely raigne As nowe is knowen abrode certayne Gods worde hath brought to lyght Many thynges mo were hydden And by the papystes ouer strydden Whiche abrode be nowe spredden Dayly before your eye , wherat some whyne full sore But spesially that theyr popyshe lore whom they had so longe in store Awaye nowe do flye Had not the poore sely soulles So often brought forth to powlles Spred abrode the popyshe rolles Of theyr olde fassyon The shameles popyshe clargye wolde styll haue bene hardye And nothynge at all tardye In theyr habomynacyon This is no lye that I you tell Full cruell were they and full fell Agaynst them that of the Gospell dyd smell And forsoke theyr fusty popery They knowe now the lawe they know the payne They can no longer clocke nor fayne And yf they do I tell you certayne Theyr rewarde is playne ropery Hereof I nede not moche to saye Many assayde the game and knewe the playe It were best they turne theyr mynde awaye And stryfe not agaynst the ryght Yf theyr lordly power myght ones abate Then wolde they quyckely open the gate Of true doctryne whiche of late Kynge Harry hath brought to lyght God saue kynge Edwardes noble grace And sende his hyghnes tyme and space To contynewe forth his fathers trace With force strenght and myght And sende euyll chaunce and croked happes To all suche Popyshe forked cappes That gaue so many cursed flappes For Gods blessed worde So hath he done it is certayne They haue not wone I tell you playne And neuer shall tyll they haue agayne The Pope to be theyr Lorde . ¶ God for bydde . ¶ Thus endeth this breue Cronycle .