Prayse be to the Lorde, I am moch edyfyed.
Eo locum deserente, intrant Pharisæus ac Sadducæus. Interim Ioannes
Baptista alloquitur populum.
Ioannes Baptista.
Of Christ to tell yow, with the dyfference of our baptym,
I washe in water; but remyssyon is of him.
My baptyme is a sygne of outwarde mortyfyenge,
A grace is hys baptyme of inwarde quyckenynge.
The baptyme of me is the baptyme of repentaunce,
Hys baptyme in faythe bryngeth full recoueraunce.
My doctryne is harde, and full of threttenynges,
Hys wordes are demure, replete with wholsom blessynges.
I feare the conscience, with terrour of the lawe,
He by the gospell mannys sowle wyll gentylly drawe.
A knowledge of synne the baptyme of me do teache,
Forgeuenesse by faythe wyll he here after preache.
I open the sore, he bryngeth the remedye,
I sturre the conscyence, he doth all pacyfye.
As Esaye sayth, I am the cryars voyce,
But he is the worde, and message of reioyce.
The lanterne I am, he is the very lyght,
I prepare the waye, but he maketh all thynges perfyght,
Inuicem alloquuntur.
As is said abroade, thys fellawe preacheth newe lernynge*,
Lete vs dyssemble, to vnderstande hys meanynge.
Wele pleased I am, that we examyne hys doynges,
Hys doctrine perauenture myght hyndre els our lyuynges,
But in our workynge, we must be sumwhat craftye.
Tush, thou shalt se me, vndermynde hym very fynelye.
Et uertens se ad Ioannem, dolose illum alloquitur.
God blesse ye father, and prospere your busynesse.
Ioannes Baptista.
Ye are welcome both, so that ye mynde anye goodnesse.
Sadducæus.
No harme we intende, ye maye trust vs and ye wyll.
Ioannes Baptista.
Ye shewe to the worlde, as though ye coulde do no yll,
But the Lorde doth knowe, what ye haue in your hartes,
And secretelye how ye playe most wycked partes.
Where as sectes remayne, the sprete of God cannot be,
Whose kynde is to knytt, by a perfyght vnyte.
That taunte haue I ones, bycause I am a Pharyse.
This is the term given to the Reformers preaching the gospel, by the priests of the Church
My parte is no lesse, for I am also a Sadduce.
We wyll thu knowe it, our relygyons are worshypfull.
Ioannes Baptista.
Not so worshypfull, but moch more false and deceytfull,
An outwarde pretence ye haue of holynesse,
Whych is before God a double wyckednesse.
A verye wretche art thu, soch vertuouse men to despyse,
As the lawes of God, to hys people doth decyse.
We Pharysees are those, whych syt in Moses seate
As interpretours, the holy scriptures to treate.
And them ye corrupt, with your pestylent tradycyons. For your bellyes sake, have yow false exposycyons.
What sayst thu to me? whych in one poynt do not swerus
From Moses fyue bokes; but euery iote we obserue.
Thynkest not vs worthy the gloryouse name we beare,
Of ryghteouse Sadducees? Saye thy mynde without feare.
Ioannes Baptista.
I saye thys unto yow, your observacyons are carnall ;
Outwarde workes ye haue, but in sprete nothynge at all;
Ye walke in the letter, lyke paynted hypocrytes;
Before God ye are no better than Sodomytes.
Synners offendynge, of weakenesse, doubt, or ignoraunce, Of pytie God pardoneth. But where he fyndeth resystence Agaynst the playne truthe, there wyll he ponuysh most For a wyckednesse that is agaynst the holy Ghost; And that reigneth in yow, whych neuer hath forgeuenesse ; For enemyes ye are, to that ye knowe ryghteousnesse. Pharisæus.
Auaunt begger, auaunt. Becometh it the to prate
So vnmannerly agaynst our comely estate;
Whych is knowne to be, so notable and holye?
Thu shalt be loked on, I promyse the surelye.
Our worthy decrees, the knaue doth not regarde. But practyseth newe lawes, soch as were neuer hearde. By whose autoryte, doest thu teache thys newe lernynge? Doubt not but shortly, thu wylt be brought to a reckenynge, Joannes Baptista.
Ye generacyon of vypers, ye murtherers of the prophetes, Ye Lucifers proude, and vsurpers of hygh seates.
Neuer was serpent, more styngynge than ye be,
More full of poyson, nor inwarde cruelte.
All your stodye is, to persue the veryte,
Soch is your practyse, decey te and temeryte,
You boast your selues moch, of ryghteousness and scyence,
And yet non more vyle, nor fuller of neglygence.
How can ye escape the vengeaunce that is commynge
Upon the vnfaythfull? whych wyll admytt no warnynge.
Neyther your good workes, nor merytes of your fathers,
Your fastynges, longe prayers, with other holy behauers,
Shall yow afore God, be able to iustyfye,
Your affeccyons inwarde, vnless ye do mortyfye.
And therefor shewe fourth, the due frutes of repentaunce,
Not in wordes only, but from the hartes habundaunce.
Forsake your malyce, your pryde and hypocresye,
And now exercyse the frutefull dedes of mercye.
Pharisæus.
It become not the, to shewe what we shall do,
We knowynge the lawe, and the prophecyes also.
Go teache thy olde shoes, lyke a busye pratlynge fole,
For we wyll non be, of thys newe fangeled scole:
We are men lerned, we knowe the auncyent lawes,
Of our forefathers, thy newes are not worth ii. strawes.
Sadducæus.
The ofsprynge we are of the noble father Abraham,
And have the blessynge, so many as of him cam.
We can not perysh, though thu prate neuer so myche,
For we are ryghteouse, wele derned, famouse and ryche.
Ioannes Baptista.
Great folye is it, of Abraham so to boost,
Where his fayth is not, the kyndred is sone lost.
Ye are Abrahams chyldren, lyke as was Ismael,
Onlye in the fleshe, to whom no blessynge fell.
It profyteth yow lyttle, of Abraham to beare name,
If ye be wycked, but rather it is your shame.
And as touchynge Abraham, the Lorde is able to rayse,
Of stones in the waye, such people as shall hym prayse.
The Gentyles can he call, whom ye very sore despyse,
To Abrahams true faythe, and graces for them deuyse.
No hart is so harde, but he can it mollefye,
No synner so yll, but he maye him iustyfye.
Yea, he tolde the so, Thu art next of hys counsell, And knowest what he myndeth, to do in heaven and in hell, Now forsoth thu art, a Iolye Robyne Bell.
With a lytle helpe, of an heretyke he wyll smell.
se it very wele, agaynst Gods truthe ye are bent,
And come not hyther, your wicked wayes to repent.
For that prynces sake, that will clere vs of care,
But your commynge is, to trappe me in a snare.
We knowe hym not we, nor wyll not knowe hym in dede, But whan he shall come, if he do sowe soch sede,
As thu hast done here, he maye chaunce to have yll spéde.
Ioannes Baptista.
Be ware if ye lyst, the axe is put to the rote,
With the Lorde to mocke, it wyll ye no longer bote;
Euery wythered tre, that wyll geue no good frute,
Shall up, whych are yow, of all grace destytute;
And shall be throwne fourth, into euerlastynge fyre,
Where no helpe can be, for no pryce nor desyre.
Pharisaus.
A lewde knaue art thu, yll doctryne dost thu teache,
We wyll so prouyde, thu shalt no longar preache.
If we do not se, for thys gere a dyreccyon,
This fellawe is lyke, to make an insurreccyon.
For to hys newe lernynge, an infynyte cumpanye
Of worldlye rascalles, come hyther suspycyouslyc. -
Pharisaus.
In dede they do so, and therefor lete vs walke,
Vpon thys matter more delyberatlye to talke.
Ioannes Baptista.
The nature of these is styll lyke as it hath be,
Blasphemers they are of God and hys veryte.
Here haue I preached, the baptyme of repentaunce;
After me he cometh, that is of moch more puysaunce.
For all my austeryte of lyfe and godly purpose,
Worthye I am not, hys lachettes to vnlose.
He wyll yow baptyse, in the holy Ghost and fyre,
Makynge yow more pure than your hart can desyre.
Hys fanne is in hande, whych is Gods iudgment,
Vnto hym commytted by hys father omnypotent.
He wyll from hys floore, which is hys congregacyon,
Swepe awaye all fylth, and false dyssymulacyon.
Cleane wyll he seclude the dysguysed hypocrytes,
And restore agayne the perfyght Israclytes;
He wyll brynge the wheate into hys barne or grayner,
The chyldren of faythe to the kyngedome of hys father,
The caffe vnprofytable, whych are the vnfaithfull sort,
Into hell shall go, to their sorowfull dysconfort.
I am Iesus Christ, the sonne of the lyuynge God, The lyght of hys glorye, the ymage of hys substaunce; Though he to thys daye hath plaged man with the rod, Yet now, for my sake, he hath withdrawne all vengeaunce, All rygour, all fearcenesse, with hys whole hartes displesaunce; Sendynge me hyther, of his benyuolence;
To suffer one deathe, for all the worldes offence.
The tyme prefixed of my celestyall father,
Is now perfourmed, I reignynge in thys nature,
Borne of a woman, yea, of a vyrgyne rather:
Subject to the lawe, for man which is vnpure,
From deathe dampnable bys pardone to procure;
That he maye receyue, the hygh inherytaunce
Due to the chyldren, of hys choyce or allowaunce.
If ye will nedes knowe wherfor I am incarnate,
It is to be head of your whole congregacyon,
To make means for ye, to pacyfy the hate,
To be the hygh prest, that shall worke your saluacyon,
Your gyde, your confort, your helth, your consolacyon;
I come not to iudge, nor flee, but all to saue,
Come therfor to me, all yow that lyfe wyll haue.
I am become flesh, for myne own promes sake,
Without mannys sede borne, hys kynde to sanctyfye,
Of synners lynage, the synners quarell to take,
Of patryarkes and kynges, as a father and gyde heavenlye, Poore, that ye shuld thynke, my kyngedom nothing worldlye In flesh, to the sprete, that the gospell shuld ye brynge, Beleuynge by me, to have the lyfe euerlastynge.
Ye worldlye people, lerne gentylnesse of me,
Which though I am God, unto the father coequall,
I toke thys nature, with all dyscommodyte,
My selfe to humble, as a creature here mortall
To rayse ye to God, from your most deadlye fall.
Lete thys example be grafted first in your wytt,
How I for baptyme, to Johan my selfe submytt.
Ioannes Baptista.
By the Holy Ghost, assured I am thys houre,
That thys man is he, whych is of the hyghar poure,
Whom I haue preached, The lambe of innocencye,
Whose shoe to vnlose my selfe is far unworthye.
From whens do ye come, I praye ye tell to me.
Iesus Christus.
From Nazareth thys houre, a cytie of Galyle, From my mother's howse, the heauenly Father from hence, To obeye and serue, with most due reuerence.
Your intent or mynde, fayne wolde I understande.
Iesus Christus.
To receyue with other, the baptyme of thy hande.
Hic protensis nunibus baptismo illum prohibet.
Ioannes Baptista.
Requyre not of me, I desyre the instauntlye,
To presume so farre, for doubtlesse I am vnworthye.
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