Vnto me dere broder my loue and my herte

Vnto me dere broder my loue and my herte Turmente me no more with thyn othes grete Come vnto my Ioye and agayne reuerte From the deuylles snare and his sutyl net Beware of the worlde all aboute the set Thy flesshe is redy by concupyscence To burne thy herte with cursed vyolence

Thoughe these thre enmyes do sore the assayle Vpon euery syde with daungerous iniquite But yf thou lyst / they may nothynge preuayle Nor yet subdue the with all theyr extremyte To do good or yll / all is at thy lyberte I do graunte the grace thyn enemyes to subdue Swete broder accepte it theyr power to extue

And ye kynges and prynces of hye noblenes With dukes and lordes of euery dygnyte Indued with manhode wysdome and ryches Ouer the comons hauynge the soueraynte Correcte them whiche so do tere me By cruell othes without repentaunce Amende be tyme lest I take vengeaunce

Exodi vicesimo / non accipies nomen dei tui in v[an]num

Vnto the man I gaue commaundement Not to take the name of thy god vaynfully As not to swere but at tyme conuenyent Before a Iuge to bere recorde truely Namynge my name with reuerence mekely Vnto the Iuge than there in presence By my name to gyue to the good credence

A my brederne yf that I be wrothe It is for cause ye falsly by me swere Ye knowe yourselfe that I am very trothe [Th]et wrongfully ye do me rente and tere ye neyther loue me nor my Iustyce fere And yf ye dyde ye wolde full gentylly Obeye my byddynge well and perfytely

The worldly kynges hauynge the soueraynte ye do well obey without resystence ye dare not take theyr names in vanyte But with grete honoure and eke reuerence Than my name more hye of magnyfycence ye ought more to drede whiche am kynge of all Bothe god and man and reygne celestyall

No erthely man loueth you so well As I do / which mekely dyde enclyne For to redeme you from the fendes of hell Takynge your kynde by my godhede dyuyne you were the fendes I dyde make you myne For you swete bretherne I was on the rode Gyuynge my body my herte and my blode

Than why do ye in euery maner of place With cruell othes tere my body and herte My sydes and woundes it is a pyteous cace Alas swete brederne I wolde you conuerte For to take vengeaunce ye do me coherte From the hous of swerers shall not be absent The plage of Iustyce to take punysshement

Vnde. Ecclesiastici .xxxiii. Vir multum iurans implebitur iniquitate et non discedet a domo eius plaga.

A man moche swerynge with grete iniquite Shall be replete and from his mancyon The plage of vengeaunce shall not cessed be Wherefore ye brederne full of abusyon Take ye good hede to this dyscrypcyon Come nowe to me and axe forgyuenes And be penytente and haue it douteles

Augustinus. Non potest male mori qui bene vixit et vix bene moritur [qui] male vixit.

Who in this worlde lyueth well and ryghtwysly Sall deye well by ryght good knowlegynge Who in this worlde lyueth yll and wrongfully Shall hardly scape to haue good endynge I do graunte mercy but no tyme enlongynge Wherfore good brederne whyles that ye haue space Amend your lyfe and come vnto my grace

My wordes my prelates vnto you do preche For to conuerte you from your wretchednes But lytell auaylleth you nowe for to teche The worlde hathe cast you in such blyndnes Lyke vnto stones your hertes hathe hardnes That my swete wordes may not reconsyle Your hertes harde with mortall synne so vyle

Wo worthe your hertes so planted in pryde Wo worthe your wrath and mortall enuye Wo worthe slouth that dothe with you abyde Wo worthe also inmesurable glotony Wo worthe your tedyus synne of lechery Wo worthe you whome I gaue free wyll Wo worthe couetyse that dothe your soulse spyll

Wo worthe shorte Ioye cause of payne eternall Wo worthe you that be so peruerted Wo worthe your pleasures in the synnes mortall Wo worthe you for whome I sore smerted Wo worthe you euer but ye be conuerted Wo worthe you whose makynge I repente Wo worthe your horryble synne so vyolent

Wo worthe you whiche do me forsake Wo worthe you whiche wyllyngely offende Wo worthe your swerynge whiche dothe not aslake Wo worthe you whiche wyll nothynge amende Wo worthe vyce that dothe on you attende Wo worthe your grete vnkyndenes to me Wo worthe your hertes withouten pyte

Wo worthe your falshode and your doublenesse Wo worthe also your corrupte Iugement Wo worthe delyte in worldely rychesse Wo worthe bebate without extynguyshment Wo worthe your wordes so moche impacyent Wo worthe you vnto whome I dyde bote And wo worthe you that tere me at the rote

Blessyd be ye that loue humylyte Blessyd be ye that loue trouthe and pacyence Blessyd be ye folowynge werkes of equyte Blessyd be ye that loue well abstynence Blessyd be ye vyrgyns of excellence Blessyd be ye which loue well vertue Blessyd be ye whiche do the worlde eschue

Blessyd be ye that heuenly Ioye do loue Blessyd be ye in vertuous gouernaunce Blessyd be ye whiche do pleasures reproue Blessyd be ye that consyder my greuaunce Blessyd be ye whiche do take repentaunce Blessyd be ye remembrynge my passyon Blessyd be ye makynge petycyon

Blessyd be ye folowynge my trace Blessyd be ye louynge trybulacyon Blessyd be ye not wyllynge to trespace Blessyd be ye of my castycacyon Blessyd be ye of good operacyon Blessyd be ye vnto me ryght kynde Blessyd be you whiche haue me in your mynde

Blessyd be ye leuynge yll company Blessyd be ye hauntynge the vertuous Blessyd be ye that my name magnefy Blessyd be ye techynge the vycyous Blessyd be ye good and relygyous Blessyd be ye in the lyfe temperall Whiche applye yourselfe to Ioye celestyall

The brytyll worlde ryght often transmutable Who wyll in it his lyfe in tyme well spende Shall Ioye attayne after inestymable For in the worlde he must fyrst condyscende. To take grete payne as his power wyll extende Agaynst the worlde the flesshe and the deuyll By my grete grace for to withstande theyr euyll

For who can be a gretter fole than he That spendeth his tyme to hym vncertayne For a breuyat pleasure of worldly vanyte Than after that to haue eternall payne Who of the worlde delyteth and is fayne Shall after sorowe and cry ve ve In an other worlde quante sunt tenebre

Who is wyser than he that wyll applye In the worlde to take payne by due dylygence After shorte payne to come to grete glorye Whiche is eterne moost hye of excellence Where he shall se my grete magnyfycence With many aungelles whiche for theyr solace Insacyately do beholde my face

Regarde no Ioye of the erthly consystory For lyke as Phebus dothe the snowe relente So passeth the Ioyes of the worlde transytory Tyme renneth fast tyll worldly lyfe be spente Consyder this in your entendemente Blessed be they that my worde do here And kepe it well, for they are to me dere

Therfore good brederne your hertes enclyne To loue and drede me that am omnipotent Bothe god and man in Ioye celestyne Beholde my body all to torne and rente With your spytefull othes cruell and vyolent I loue you ye hate me ye are to harde herted I helpe you ye tere me lo how for you I smerted

Mercy and peace dyde make an vnyte Bytwene you and me but trouthe & ryghtwysnesse Do nowe complayne byddynge my godheed se How that ye breke the lege of sothfastnesse They tell me that by Iustyce doubtelesse I must take vengeaunce vpon you sykerly That by your swerynge, agayne me crucefye

For at the request of good mercy and peace I haue forborne you longe and many a daye [Th]et more and more your synnes do encrease Wherfore my Iustyce wyll no more delaye But take vengeaunce for all your proude araye I warne you ofte ye are nothynge the better But ye amende my vengenaunce shall be gretter