Philargyrie of Greate Britayne

¶ The fable of Philargyrie the great Gigant of great Britain , what houses were ●uilded and landes appoynted for his prou●●i●ns , and how all the same is wasted to content his gredie gut wythall and yet he rageth for honger GEue eare a whyle And marke my style You that hath wyt in store For wyth wordes bare I wyll declare Thyngs done long tyme before Sometyme certayne Into Britayne A lande full of plentie A Gyaunte greate Came to seke meate Whose name was Philargyrie He was so stronge That none emonge That brutyshe nation Durst take in hande Him to wythstande In any station That curssed ladde A fre course had That Ilande ouer all Boeth vale and hy●● Were at his wyll Wyth townes both great and smal Then let he crye That lowe and hye That woulde to him resort Shulde styll endure In all pleasure And lyue in playe and sporte So that they woulde Do as they shoulde And honoure him as God Wyth Baggis of golde In many folde In number euen or odde Come vnto me Who so wyll ( quoth he ) There shall no lawe him bynde I wyll him make Free for to take All thyngis that he can fynde Force and stronge hand By sea and lande Shall be his lawe and ryght He shall be bolde To take and holde Al thyngis by force and myght So that he bryng To me some thynge I wyll defend him styll None so hardye Him to deny Or to saye he doeth Ill When this was knowne And a broade blowne Throughout that Iland wyde From euery porte Men dyd resorte To him on euery syde So that anone A Legion Were redy at hys wyl To do all thynge At his byddynge Whether it were good or Ill Then forth he stode Wyth full mylde mode Desyrynge them silence Tyll he had tolde All that he wolde Vnto that Audience

Philargyries Oration . GOod syrs ( quoth he ) Full well I se That ye haue ben opprest Longe tyme wyth lawes Not worth two strawes But that shal be redreste Henseforth there shall No lawe at all Restrayne your Libertie But that you maye Boeth nyght and daye Do your owne wyll frely Catch what you can From euery man And hold it for your owne Reape , let me se And brynge to me That other men haue sowne And when you fynde Ought to your mynde That force can not brynge in Then beate your brayne Aboute some trayne Whereby you maye it wynne Se nothynge let You forto get All thyngs into your hande Whych other men Must nowe and then Nedes haue by sea or lande . Then set the price Aboue all syse Your bagges therwyth to fyll Make the vile slaues And paysant knaues Paye you at your owne wyll . And where you spye Commoditie Ther plant your dwelling place And then employe Your whole study To get it vp apase And by eche porte Where is resorte Se that ye do conueye All maner thynge Whereof myght sprynge Profyte to this contrey For so shall ye Enriched be And haue money in store For you shall sell Thyngis twyse so wel As men dyd heretofore . The woule , the lead The corne for breadde The bere butter and cheese Wyll be well solde Wherefore be bolde By them you can nought leese . Metalle of Bellis Lether and fellis And woulsted yarne also Are redye golde Let them be solde Wyth thyngis a thousand moe And if you maye Conuey awaye These thyngis beyond the fome Then shall the pryse Of that aryse That shal be lefte at home You muste therfore Haue euermore All those thyngis in your hande Wherin the sprynge Of euery thynge And fyrst encrease doeth stande . The pasture grownde That feadeth sound You must in no case lacke All maner mynes And myllis that gryndis Must helpe to fyll your sacke Copsis of wodde Be verye good For you to haue in hande You must nedes haue Greate fermes a thraue Wyth all good fruitfull lands . Shorte tale to make You muste all take And whorde vp styll in store Tyll that be scant Whereof no want Was euer sene before . Draffe is plenty Yet certenly If it were handled well : It woulde be solde For redy golde And that some men can tel The tyme hath byn That men coulde wynne By smoke and by Vryne And why shoulde nat Gayne ryse of that Wher with men fede their swine ? Se to all thynge Wherof maye sprynge Any Lucre or Guyne , For Gayne doeth smell Excedynge well In euery thynge certayne . I wyll therefore Nowe saye no more But se you do apply Your busynes To get rychesse My mynde to satisfie . You muste me fede Aye at my nede Wyth bagges of moste pure golde For I coulde eate None other meate Sence I was two dayes olde . A God am I That can not dye Wherefore I muste be fed Wyth golde most pure That wyll endure And not wyth bryckle breade Brynge , bryng bryng , bryng Alwaye some thynge , And then you shall me please . All that is solde For redie golde Doeth my stomake much ease . And as you wyll Continue styll Al your dayes in pleasure Euen so applye You busily Wyth golde me to honoure I am your God And haue the rod Of honger in my fyste Wherefore take hede Ye do me fede Wyth golde that is fynest And him that can Best playe the man In gettynge golde and fe I wyl promote And set aflote In wealth and hygh degree And in the ende I wyl him sende To Plutos dwellynge place Were he shall be Next vnto me Wherefore , gather apase Dixi , quoth he And bowed his knee Vnto his audience Thankyng them all Boeth greate and smale For theyr quiere scilence

How the people of Britaine beca●● subiect to Philargyrie . THen wyth one voyce All dyd reioyce And clapt theyr handes apas● And after that They fell all flatte Prostrate before his face Then rose they vp And in a cup Of golde , they dyd him brynge Moe thousandis than Any man can Well expresse by wrytynge Then gan they synge Beholde we brynge Oure mornetydis sacrifice Desyrynge the That it maye be Pleasant before thyne eies Then forth he raught His hande , and caught The cup ful of pure golde shud at one sup He drancke it vp Thankyng them many folde Henseforth , quoth he Loke that you be Wyth me thryse in the daye Wyth such a sup In such a cup That I do not decaye And be ye bolde To get the golde As I haue sayde before No lawe shall let You forto gette So much , and ten tymes more All tremblynge then One of his men Fell flatte vpon his face And desyred To be pardoned To speake his mynde a space Stand vp quoth he What so thou be And tell to me thy name Thou shalt haue grace To speake a space Thou shalte sustayne no blame Deare Souerayne Quoth he agayne I am Hypocrisie There is on mould No man that woulde Serue you leuer then I But thys one thynge My Lorde and kynge If I myght be so bolde To saye my mynd A faute I fynde In that which you haue tolde Saye on , quoth he I pardon the Let me knowe all thy thoughte . If thy counsell Do lyke me well It shall in dede be wroughte Then manerly He made curchy As one that coulde his goode Wyth mylde wordis than Thus he began Before them as he stode

Hypocrisies Oration . MY Lorde and kynge This is the thynge That doeth my mynde offend And causeth me Thus bolde to be Trustyng you wyll it mende You haue vs tolde We shulde be bolde To take all at our wyll And spoyle the ryche And pore alyche Our baggis wyth golde to fyll But well I wotte This thynge wyll not Be suffred anye whyle Except that we Worcke subtyltee And get theyr goodis by gyle We muste pretende Some holy ende That maye the people please And so we shall Be Lordis of all And fyl oure baggis wyth ease Sende me to preache And I wyll teache The people ouer all That they shall lye In purgatorye After theyr death fatall I will them tell That paynes in Hell And paynes there are alone Saue that of this An ende there is But of the other none Then that they maye Be sure alwaye To crepe oute at their wyll I wyll them tell We haue to sell Pardone of all theyr Ill So they wyll brynge To vs althynge Whereof we shall stande ned● Houses to buylde Boeth thackt and tylde And bye vs fode and wede Then wyll I proue It doeth behoue That we haue land and rent That we maye praye For them alwaye To God omnipotent And when they lye Redy to dye Then wyl I be at hande Forto declare Howe harde we fare . For lacke of rent and lande . Then wyll I tell The paynes of Hell And purgatorye fyre And what greate payne They shall sustayne Vnlesse they do vs hyre For we are they That fast and praye For them that geue vs ought And our doynge Is worth nothynge Onlesse it be deare bought Nowe when they se Them selfes to be Set in so greate distresse Wyth all theyr herte They wyl departe Wyth much of theyr ryches In hope that we Wyll factours be For them , when they begone And by thys trayne We shall obtayne Great landis and goodis anon For what is he That wyll not be Glad to redeme wyth golde Hys soule , which he Shall thyncke to be Dampened a thousande folde ? And specially When he shall dye And leaue all thyngs byhynde For if he wold Then whorde vp golde He can not haue his mynde I wyll I trowe In some eares blowe So terrible a blaste That they shall quake And for feare make Vs theyr heyres at the laste Yea Kyngis wyth crownes Shall geue vs townes And Cities to be sure That we shall praye For them allwaye Whylse the world shall endure Thus shall we haue All that we craue And much more at oure wyll Oure selfes to fede As we shall nede And geue you golde your fyll Dixi , he sayed And then he prayed Philargyrie of grace And then wyth that He fell downe flat Prastrate before his face

Howe Philargyrie committeth the Gouernaunce of all hys Subiectes to Hypocrisie . FVll myldly than This God began And bade his man arise Stand vp , quoth he For well I se Thou arte prudent and wyse Wherefore wyth me Thou shalte chiefe be I wyll worcke by thy reade And all that be Subiect to me Thou shalte gouerne and leade Then let he crye That lowe and hye That woulde take him as kyng Shoulde wyth all spede Fulfyll in dede Hypocrisies bydynge For he is wyse And can dyuise Wayes to get golde and fe And make men fyll Wyth ryght good wyll Your baggis to brynge to me Then all that were Present to heare That proclamasion Shewed them content Wyth full assent And thus they sayed eche one , Hypocrisie Is most worthy To rule vnder oure kynge For he can preach And men so teach That they wyll gladly brynge Then went there out A full greate route From Philargyries place And by and by Hypocrisie Began to preach apace All maner men Were redie then To geue euen what he woulde They were so madde They thought he had Saluation to be solde Then builded he A greate Citie Nodnoll he dyd it name It was all one Wyth Babylon If it were not the same In that Citie Then Bylded he A temple to his God Settynge therein Of his owne kyne An hundred Knights and odde . The Arch knyght was Byshope Chayphas Who rode with spear and shyld Haueynge his corse Armed wyth force To cause all men to yelde Then in ech place That pleasante was He planted houses sure Of lyme and stone They were echone Because they shoulde endure Bulwarkis also A thousande moe Then any man can tell To beate them downe That ware the crowne If they dyd once rebell So was that lande Whole in the hand Of Philargyries men No wyght was free From them if he Were worth pore shyllyngs ten But to couloure His endeuoure He dyd those places name Houses for clarkes And the bulwarckes Lodgyngis for blynde & lame Then poynted he That there shoulde be Leches of wondrous skyll In euerye plare Whoe in short space Should helpe theyr bags to fil At Walsyngehame Was Noterdame At Elye good Audrye And at Wylsedon Were greate cures done By bolstryng of Baudrye At Hayles there was One in a glasse That wrought wounders full great And at Wynchcome Were cured some That coulde Keuelme intrea There were also A thousand moe Leaches of his poyntynge That coulde heale all Boeth great and small That woulde any thyng bryng They woulde not stycke To heale the sycke In bodye and in soule They had suche wytte They coulde do it By drynckynge of a bole When this was done Then was al wone They nede to seke no more They had all thynge At theyr lykynge To spende and kepe in store Hypocrisie Thought then to stye Vp to Nodnoll anone To se what was There brought to passe After he was thense gone But ere he went More gold he sent To his God Philargyrie Then thousandis ten Of brutysh men Coulde bare , to make hym mery Wych he eate vp All at one sup And yet was not content But sayde that they Had by the waye Spent some of that was sent Al ragynge than This God beganne On them his wrath to wreake He layed aboute Emonge the route Tyl none of them colde speake . ☞ And when he had Lyke one halfe madde Slayne all that companye In all his rage He calde his page Whoe came forth by and by ☞ Come on ( quoth he ) I wyll go see What prouision thereis They shall it bye Full deare if I Fare not better then this ¶ Fetch forth my steed Trustie at nede For nowe I am in haste I muste go trye Hypocrisie And se if he make waste ☞ His lad was preste Wyth his steede dreste Redy For hym to ryde And ryght anone He leapt theron And would no longer byde He ryd forth faste Tyllat th e laste He came to I gralk place Where he dyd spye Hypocrisie Fyllynge his bagges apase Then laughed he And sayde I se Hypocrisie is iuste Nought can him let Treasure to get To satisfie my luste Hypocrisie Hearde by and by His Lorde and maisters voyce And ganne to synge To leape and sprynge So muche he dyd reioyce . All smylyngly Philargyrie Then gan his man embrace And sayde my sonne Howe haste thou done Sense thou wast at my place My Lorde sayde he And bowed his knee I haue had good successe For all this lande Is in my hande Wyth infinite rychesse . Then sayde he come You shall se some Of that I haue in store Take you your fyll Of what you wyll There cometh in dayly more , Then wyth a keye He made his waye Into his treasurie Where was more golde I dare be bolde Then wold in poulis church ly

❧ Howe Philargyrie deuored all the treasure that Hypocrisie had layed vp in store . Full hungerly Philargyrie Began then forto eate Euen as he had Ben more then madde For lacke of nedefull meate . Goblettes of golde Went downe twofolde So dyd owches and ryngis Tablettis wyth stones Made for the nonce Wyth many other thyngis So faste he eate That he ganswere As it had bene a bull Ten tunne I wote Went downe hys throte And yet he was not ful Then carefully Hypocrisie Bethought him of his store And wyth wordes wyse He dyd aduise His lorde to eate no more It shall , quoth he Ryght healthfull be To leaue wyth Appetite For all fulnes Doeth cause syckenes As Phisickes maisters wryte Yea syr , quoth he But when I se That sycknes doeth me pricke I can be bolde For redy golde To haue present Phisicke Wherefore I wyll Nowe eate my fyll There shall nothynge me lette Therefore be gone Let me alone I must lyue by my meate Full Heauily Hypocrisie Then toke leaue to departe And sayed Adiu Much good do it you But thought it not in herte Wyth boeth handis than This God began To crambe into his crawe Tyll all the golde Whereof I tolde Was mowed vp in his mawe Than sate he downe And gan to frowne As not content in mynde Because no more Was lefte in store And he had not halfe dynde Then vp he rose And caste the nose Alofte into the wynde Euen as a swyne Holdeth vp the groyne When he woulde fedyng fynde Come on , quoth he For well I se Here is no meat in store Hypocrisie Wyll him aply I thyncke to get in more Then home he went Halfe mysse content And layed him downe to rest But he could get No slepe quiete To fasten in his breste

¶ Howe Hypocrisie went about to wythstande Philargyrie , IN this meane space Hypocrisie was At Nodnoll , full busy Some waye to fynde Hym selfe to wynde Out of that miserie Thus dyd he caste Then at the laste In his disceytefull thought I wyll , thought he Liberall be Of that which coste me nought As many as wyll Shall haue theyr fyll Of meate and drynck wyth me Boeth lowe and hye Shall haue plentie Of fode , wyth golde and fe . So shall I kepe Wyth them frendshype And haue them on my syde Wyth al theyr herte To take my parte What so shall me bytyde Full well I knowe That hye and lowe Wyll take parte of my chere For in ech coaste . Boeth sodde and roste Are waxen very dere And it is lyke That they wyll stycke To me alwaye at nede For houndis are wont Freshly to hunte For them that do them fede , And so I saye I shall alwaye Be able to wythstande That wycked wyght If he wyll fyght Either by sea or lande Then by and by He dyd employe Hym felfe to make good chere And for to spende By the yeres ende All that came in by yere . This dyd allure I am ryght sure The hertes of thousandis ten To be redy To lyue and dye Wyth him lyke faythfull men Then was he bolde And thought he could Withstande his maisters myght He dyd therfore Kepe nought in store For hym as he had plyght Greate fees he gaue An hundred thraue To men that had no nede For well knewe he That it must be Such that muste do the dede

Howe selfe loue vttered Hyyocrisie his intent to Philargyrie THen was there one That dyd anone Conceiue his wole intent And in a nyght He dyd him dyght And to Ppilargyrie went He went so faste And made such haste For feare to come to late That longe ere daye He rydde the waye And was come to the gate Full fiersly than To knocke he gan As one that woulde come in Tyll the wycket Was open set To knocke he would not blinne Then came forth one To him anone And sayde what haste is this ? Saye on quoth he Declare to me What thy busynes is Syr , quoth the freke I muste nedis speake Wyth my lorde Philargyrie I can him tell All is not well About Hypocrisie Then ranne the page As one in rage Vnto the chaumber dore And at one pushe He dyd it rushe Downe flat into the flore Wyth that awoke That God and shoke Hys lockis that were full thynne What maye this Syr knaue ( quoth he ) That thou comest so faste in : Vpon hys knee Then kneled he ( So well he could his good ) And myldly than Thus he began Wyth a moste heauy mode My Lorde , he sayde I am afrayed Oure heauie newes to tell For feare that ye Shoulde angry be And take it nothyng well Newes ? quoth he than And bade his man Tell him wythout delaye . Speake man , quoth he What ayleth the Why dost thou make this stay ? Then at the laste His man out braste And in fewe wordis he sayed Surely there is Some thynge amysse Some man hath you betrayde Betrayed , quoth he , Howe maye that be ? And then in hande he toke Hys bostarde bryght So goodly dyght And gan fiersly to loke Tell me quoth he Who it shuld be That hath this treason wrought That I maye wreke Me on the freke And bryng his stocke to nought Hypocrisie I thyncke treuely Quoth Philargyries men For one came nowe To speake wyth you And thus the freke began . I muste , quoth he If it maye be Speake wyth Philargyrie I can hym tell All is not well Aboute Hypocrisie Than the God bade Fech in that ladde That I maye here hym speake . Full lyghtly than Hys saruant ranne And brought to him the freake . Full manerly He made curchie And lowted to the grownde Than sayde the lad I am ryght glad I haue your lordshipe founde For I haue spyed And throughly tryed Thingis by Hypocrisie Which do declare That he doeth beare Grudge to your maiestie For certenly Hypocrisie Hath nowe in his owne hande The halfe welmoste In euery coaste Of this pleasant Ilande And doeth employe Hym busily There wyth forto optayne : All mens good wyll That he maye styll In thys ryche Ilande raygne He goeth aboute To haue a route Knytte to hym in frendeshyp : And to that ende He doeth intende A ryght greate house to kepe , He wyll therfore Kepe nought in store For you to fede vpon , He wyll all spende By the yeres ende That he maye laye handes on And if you woulde Do what you coulde To recouer your ryght The loselles shall Be redy all In his quarrell to fyght Wherefore I saye Inuent some waye Betyme , for this myschyefe , Els certenly You shall shortely Lacke your nedefull relyefe Then curtesly Philargyrie Thanked this man and sayde Ten thousande pounde In nobles rownde Thou shalt haue treuly payede Tell me thy name And I shall frame My wayes after thy skyll For I se well Thou canste me tell Wayes to escape thys Ill. Deare syr quoth he My name hath be Philaute sence I was borne , Hypocrisie Is clombe so hye That my stocke is nygh worne Well sayde he than Be content man I wyll thy stocke restore For thou shalt be Chiefe vnder me As Hypocrisie was before I haue no dreade But by thy reade I shall brynge it to passe That , that vyle slaue And wycked knaue Shall be brought downe full base Tell me therfore If any store Of counsell doe remaye What waye we maye Beste porue and saye To subdue this vylayn My Lorde , quoth he If it so be That ye wyl , as you saye Take my counsell Then knowe ye well I thyncke this the beste waye . Let me be sent To preach in Lent And out of Lent also : And I shall drawe Them from his awe I truste wyth small adoe I wyll declare Howe madde they are To gyue him of theyr good To be made iust Sens all men muste Be made iust bi Christis bloud For though he rynge Greate belles and synge A thousande masses and moe Yet must Christis bloude Shed on the rode Delyuer all men from woe Then you shall geue Ech man good leaue To wytholde what he can From that vyle slaue That doeth styll craue A flyse of euery man . They must be bolde All to wytholde And eke to take hym fro Boeth lande and fee Where so it be And rych Iewelles also . When this is tolde You may be bolde All men wyll be full preste Your parte to take And him forsake And then the knaue is dreste , ☞ Let me alone , There shall not one Holde on hys syde I trowe After they do Once hearken to The blaste that I shal blowe . ☞ Wyth wordes myry Then Philargyrie Sayde , be it as thou hast told To vse thy skyll At thyne owne wyll Thou mayst hensefore be bold Be thou , quoth he Next vnto me And eke my cosen deare Henseforth certayne In al Britayne There shall not be thy peare And all that be Kynne vnto the Be it neuer so small I wyll promote And set aflote , Cosens I wyll them call Nowe swete Kynsman Do what you can That Vylaynes wyll to let And get me golde Either newe or olde Else shall I starue for meate For I had not My fyll I wot This hundred yeres and moe Whych causeth me So leaue to be That scarsely I can goe ☞ Holde you content It is nowe lent You must nedes fast a whyle . Lenten quoth he Lent let it be And then he gan to smyle ☞ Wyth that began Philaute his man To demaund with wordes mild What thyng myght be The cause that he When Lent was named smyld ¶ Oh Couse qouth he The tyme hath be That I haue eate more golde In one shorte lent Then some haue spent In fyftie wynters colde ¶ For certenly Hypocrisie Dyd in lent most prouide Good golde to fede Me at my nede In euery tyme and tyde . But let that go He doeth not so Nowe , well he shall repent You wyll I trowe Couse brynge him lowe Before an other Lent Yea syr , quoth he Sure ye shall be I wyll so brynge hym downe That the vyle knaue Shall nothynge haue In fielde nor yet in towne Let vs therefore Nowe talke no more I muste this mater plye It shall be beste For you to reste Whylse I to Nodnoll stye Go you to bed And laye your heade Vpon a pyllowe fyne I truste to gete You golden meate Ere it be tyme to dyne . Couse go thy waye That God gan saye God pluto be thy spede My sprite shal be Present wyth the To helpe the aye at nede My lorde , quoth he It shall best be That no man doth is knowe Wherfore let not Your seruants wot Lest they some rumours sowe For I must preach And al men teach That gods sonne hath me sent For so shall I Haue by and by My purpose and intent Couse , thou shalt se I warant the All shall be kept secrete For counsells knowne And abroade blowne Wyll oure procedyngis let Departe therfore And saye no more For I knowe al thy mynde Thou shalt well se That I wyll be As reasone doeth me bynde Then louted he Wyth either knee And sayed , my lorde Adiu The God of slepe Vouchsalfe to kepe All that belonge to you

Howe Philargyrye went to Nodnol and what he dyd there . THen forth he went As he was sent Tyl he to Nodnoll came Where by and bye He made outecrie Agaynst Hypocrisies name Geue eare to me All you , quoth he That do your owne welth loue For gods owne sonne Dyd byd me runne Your enmie to remoue . Hypocrisie Hath dealt flasely Wyth you full many a yere To gather pelfe And kepe him selfe In ease and bealy chere . Do you not se Howe greasye he And his be , and how fat ? His chekes be bolne And for fat swollen , His nose is cowched flat He walloweth in That fylthy synne Of gredy glottonnye He wyll not swynke For meate nor dryncke But lyue styll Idellye Yet wyll he eate Nought but fyne meate And drincke of the best wyne Who so hath bene Wyth him hath sene His fare to be ryght fyne I graunte he wyll Your bealies fyll Tyl your backis can not bowe But all that is Nothynge of his But byggis of your owne sow Open your eies If you be wyse And se to your owne gayne Let not thys slaue The ryches haue That you haue gote with payn You nede not passe For his vayne masse Hys diryge and prayars longe For well we see All those thyngis be But laboure of the tonge Your selfe can praye As wel alwaye As he , and also feede All such as ye Shall knowe to be Pore and nedie in dede His prayars shall Helpe none at all Christis bloude hath paid the price You nede therefore To do no more That one price doeth suffice . What madnes than Is in that man That wyll so much bestowe Vpon a thynge Worsse then nothynge ? No man is so madde It rowe

Howe the people forsoke Hypocrisie . THe people anone Much mused on These words that semed straynge Yet dyd they embrace Them , in shorte space Because they loue to chaynge And naturally You knowe pardie Ech man wyll loue him selfe Then a small thynge Maye him sone brynge In loue with this worlds pelfe The brutes therfore Toke Philautis lore And lefte Hypocrisie Then range the bell To a Counsell That thynge to ratifie . In this Synnodde Ten score and odde Toke Hypocrisies parte Yet all they loste For all theyr boaste In dispyte of theyr herte It was decreed There and agreed That Philaute should possesse For euer more Hypocrisie store Hys landes and his ryches . Then Philaute sent In contient Ten thousande tunnes of gold To Philargyrie To make him miry Therwith , what time he wold In shorte tyme than His store began To waste and weare apase For he eate styll And coulde not fyll Hys paunch , in .vii. yeres spase Then Philaute fedde Hys God wyth leade With stones , and wyth tymber And tolde hym that Golde was to fatte For men that faste Imber . You muste , quoth he Contented be Wyth such as doeth remayne , Ye must forbeare Thys preciouse geare Yet for a yere or twayne Then Philaute solde For redy golde Fortes that were builded strong And made so sure Forto endure That they had stande ful long Greate landes also Philaute let go For golde that was full fyne And sent it all To Philargyries hall For him therwyth to dyne But all was gone And spent anone And he loked for more But yet in vayne For nought certayne Remayned then in store Well thought he than I trowe I can Make ryght fyne golde of bras And so he dyd But it framed Full euel as resone it was Well , yet he sent And raysed rent From fyue grotes to a pounde Yet was there nat Much wone by that For more was lost then founde Well thus at the last All hope was paste . His God he coulde not fyl Vnlesse he shoulde Be founde so bolde The kynge & hys reame to syl Then gan this God To take the rode Of hunger in his fyst And sayde that he Woulde fylled be No man shoulde him resiste . Then wyth strokes sore He smote the pore And then they gan to crye To god almyght For them to fyght Agaynst Philargyrie

Howe Trueth tolde all to the kynge . BVt then toke trueth Pitie and ruth And to the kynge he went And sayed syr kynge Amende this thynge Thy realme else wyl be shent Philargyrie Hypocrisie And Philaute haue spent all Thy people are So full of care That nowe to god they cal . Vengeaunce therfore Is at thy dore Redy the to destroye Onlesse thou wyll Purge out the Ill That doeth thy flocke anoye An horrible thynge It is syr kynge To fall into godis hande Thou maist trust me No man can be Able him to wythstande Take hede therfore Suffer no more These fell felons to raygne Leste God almyght For thy stock fyght And thou thy selfe be slayne What though they be Myghtie to se ? Yet feare not thou at all For ( God no doubt ) Wyll rowte them oute If thou wylt on him call For he hath sayde He wyll the ayde Agaynste his enimies If thou wylt go Forthe streyght and do Thyngis pleasant in his eies

¶ Howe the kynge draue that wycked sort oute of his realme WYth that the kynge For feare gan sprynge Vnto the Bible boke And by and by . Ryght reuerently That swerde in hand he toke No wyght , quoth he Shall spared be That doeth my flocke oppresse God hath me set Such thyngis to let And all wrongis to redresse Then let he crye That lowe and hye In whom gods feare did dwel Shoulde neuer rest But do they best Gods enmies to expell Then fell he downe And cast his crowne And diademe asyde And lokyng on hye Vp to the skye To God aloude he cryed Lorde God , quoth he Thou hast chosen me Ouer thy flocke to raygne Make me of myght All wrongis to ryght And make all well agayne Then God him sent Men that were bent Oppression to expell Whoe chased oute This gygante stoute And then all thyngs were w●

Finis .