ACT III, SCENE 1.


PHILOLOGUS.
Too true, alas, too true, I say, was our divination,
The which Mathetes did foresee, when last we were in place;
For now indeed we feel the smart and horrible vexation,
Which Romish power unto us did threaten and menace.
Wherefore great need we have to call to God alway for grace;
For feeble flesh is far too weak those pains to undergo,
The which all they that fear the Lord are now appointed to.
The legate from the Pope of Rome is come into our coasts,
Who doth the saints of God each where with tyranny oppress,
And in the same most gloriously himself he vaunt and boast:
The more one mourneth unto him he pitieth the less.
Out of his cruel tyranny the Lord of heaven me bless;
For hitherto in blessed state my whole life I have spent,
With health of body, wealth in goods, and mind alway content.
Besides, of friends I have great store, who do me firmly love:
A faithful wife and children fair, of woods and pasture store,
And divers other things which I have got for my behoof,
Which now to be deprived of would grieve my heart full sore.
And if I come once in their claws. I shall get out no more,
Unless I will renounce my faith, and so their mind fulfil;
Which if I do, without all doubt my soul for aye I spill.
For sith I have received once the first-fruits of my faith,
And have begun to run the course that leadeth to salvation,
If in the midst thereof I stay or cease, the Scripture saith
It booteth not that I began with so good preparation;