An answere to maister Smyth seruaunt to the kynges most royall maiestye, and clerke of the Quenes graces councell though most unworthy / [by me a poore man ... W.G.] Gray, William. 1540 Approx. 8 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 2 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2005-03 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A02062 STC 12206A.3 ESTC S2985 29632447 ocm 29632447 28045

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 Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A02062) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 28045) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 1861:7) An answere to maister Smyth seruaunt to the kynges most royall maiestye, and clerke of the Quenes graces councell though most unworthy / [by me a poore man ... W.G.] Gray, William. 1 sheet ([2] p.). Imprinted at London by me Rychard Bankes/cum priuilegio ad imprimandum solum. And to be solde in Pater noster rowe by John Turke/at the sygne of the Rose, [London] : [1540] In verse. Includes marginal notes in Latin. Statement of responsibility found at end of p. [2]. Publication date from STC (2nd ed.). Reproduction of original in the Society of Antiquaries.

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 eng Smyth, Thomas, -- servaunt to the Quenes most excellent Majestie. Ballads, English. Broadsides -- London (England) -- 16th century. 2004-05 Assigned for keying and markup 2004-07 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2004-10 Sampled and proofread 2004-10 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2005-01 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
An answere to maister Smyth seruaunt to the kynges most royall maiestye. And clerke of the Quenes graces counsell / though most vnworthy. ¶ Whether ye trolle in or els trolle out ye trolle vntruly / loke better about. WHere as of late two thinges ye parused Concerning the treason of Thomas Crumwell Vndoutedly both your wyt and your syght were confused Lackyng a medecyne / blyndnesse to expell Put on your spectacles and marke it well Than shall you se / and say / maugre your hart That trolle in / hath played a true subiectes part ❧ For where as trolle a way (as ye say) tolde trouth Declaring the offences / wherin Crumwell offended It was not the thyng / wherwith troll in was wroth For in that poynt / Troll in / Troll away commended But this was the mater / wherfore they contended Trolle away / vnder pretence of trollyng against treason Practised proude popery / as appereth by reason. ☞ And ye supporting the same / your pen runneth at large Boldly as blynde bayerd / ye write in his defence And in your myscheuous maner / ye lay falsly to my charge Sayeng / who that craftely coloureth any others offence Of lykelyhode in his owne hert / hath the same pretence But here ye speke of lykelyhode / and so blyndly go by gesse your fondnesse is the folyssher / and my faute is the lesse. ¶ An horse beyng nothing galled / of force ye may make to kycke With spurryng and with prickinge / more than reason wolde requyre But if the horse were lustye / coragious and also quycke ye might be the fyrst perchaunce / that might lye in the myre As wyse as ye / haue ben drowned in their owne desyre Many a man / anothers mischefe / of malyce wyll prepare And yet him selfe the fyrst / that is caught in the snare. ¶ Bycause of making stryfe (ye say) ye wyll take neither parte But here ye breke promyse / for agaynst all reason and right Ve illi per qem scandalū uenit, Luce, xvij. Speking with your mouth / that you thinke not with your harte Agaynst trolle in / ye take trolle awayes parte / with all your myght Thus all thinges lyghtly that ye make / amonge them selues do fyght Wherfore whatsoeuer ye write or saye / gretly it shall not skyll For if ye speke any thing wysely / I thinke it be agaynst your wyll. ¶ But blyndly haue ye sclaundred me / good maister Thomas Smyth Scraping togither scriptures / your madnesse to mayntayne Truly your rude rowsty reason / being so farre from the pyth Had nede of suche a cloke / to kepe it from the rayne For all the worlde may perceyue / how falsly ye forge and fayne Yet styll you affyrme your falshed / as though ye knew thinges presysely Christes blessyng on your hert / forsoth ye haue done full wysely. ¶ Ye rumble amonge the scryptures / as one that were halfe mad Wrestyng and writhyng them / accordyng to your owne purpose Facyonyng and framyng them / to your sayenges good and bad Lyke as the holy Papystes / were wont to paynt their popysshe glose Do ye take the holy scripture to be lyke a shypmans hose? Nay nay / although a shypmans hose / wyll serue all sortes of legges yet Christes holy scrypture / wyll serue no rotten dregges. ☞ Counsell with some tayler / whan that ye wryte nexte Take measure of diuinyte / before ye cut the facyon So shall ye square your scryptures / and the better trym your texte And than shall men of lernyng / commende your operacyon But howe shulde he be connyng / that knoweth not his occupacyon Howe shuld a cobler cut a core / or a smyth tast good wyne Or how shulde you scarsely a clerke / be nowe a good deuyne? ❧ What lyuyng man (excepte it were you) beynge in his right wyttes Wolde write as ye haue written / and all not worth a myte I thinke it be some peuysshe pange / that cometh ouer your hert by fyttes Vnder the coloure of charyte / to worke your cruell spyte If men wolde marke your madnesse / and beholde your deuelyssh delyte Shuld se how ye wrest ye scriptures to your sayēg / not worth .ii. chippes And ioyne them all togither / as iust as Germans lyppes. ¶ Whan ye haue spytte your poyson / and sayde euen the worst ye can Than come ye in with charite / wyllyng all stryfe to cease But surely good maister Smyth / ye speke lyke a mery man Moche lyke a comen pyke quarell / that stryfe wolde encrease Continually cryeng in frayes / holde / kepe the kynges pease But those be prety peace makers / in dede for euery daye That styll bestowe mo strokes / than they that began the fraye. ☞ What wyse man wolde not laugh / for to here you bragge and boste Of your name / your seruyce / of your offyce and all this gere Qui se laudat stercore coronabit, As though ye were prymrose perelesse / and a ruler of the roste By the declaryng wherof / ye thinke to put pore men in fere But your braggyng and your bostyng / shall neyther be here nor there As longe as I may indifferently / be suffred to vse my pen ye shall neuer be able to face me out / with a carde of ten. ❧ A wyse man wolde haue praysed god / and than prayed for the kyng The which of their gret goodnesse / to your offyce dyd you call And not to haue bragged therof / and than put it out in printyng For ye stande not yet so sure / but it is possyble ye may fall And though your offyce be great / I trust your power be but small Or els parchaūce ye wold quickly thurst a poore man amōg the thornes But god almyghty prouydeth well to sende a shrewde cow short hornes. ¶ Christ preserue the kynges most noble grace / & sende him longe lyfe Euen Henry the eight (next vnder god) of this church / the hed supreme Christ preserue & kepe quene Katheryn / his most lawfull wyfe Christ preserue Prince Edwarde / the very right heyre of this realme Christ styll ensence their noble counsell / with the influence of heauen Christ for his tendre mercy / amende all thing that is a mys Christ sende maister Smyth more charite / whan his good pleasure is. ¶ Amen. W.G. ☞ By me a poore man whose herte if ye knewe Wolde be the kynges seruaunt as fayne as you.

¶ Imprinted at London by me Rychard Bankes / Cum priuilegio ad imprimendum solum. And be to be solde in Pater noster rowe by John̄ Turke / at the sygne of the Rose.