Nugae Antiquae
Because I will not always be praising, but sometimes, (where just cause is given,) reprehend men's demerits, as well as magnify their merits; I will take occasion to speak somewhat of Stephen Gardiner,<280> twice Bishop of Winchester; and therefore may challenge to be twice remembered, though for some things of him it were to be wished they were ever forgotten. My author directs his reader to Mr. Foxe's Book of Martyrs, for a more full relation of his doings; but that is so full (though I doubt not, very faithful) that I fear your Highness will find it over-tedious to read. My purpose is therefore but to note some important observations out of his story, and after, (as I did of Wykeham in Latin,) so to add some English poetry written of him, and to him, which is not to be found in Mr. Foxe, though some of it helps to confirm somthing concerning him, affirmed by Mr. Foxe, and called in question by others. Mr. Foxe therefore greatly praiseth his natural gifts of mind, his sharp wit, his excellent memory, which is indeed the storehouse of all learning and knowledge, for tantum scimus quantum meminimus.<281> But to these, he said, he had great vices, as pride, envy, and cruelty, flattering to his prince, submissive to his superious, envious to his equals, (namely to Cromwell,) and haughty to his inferiors: these or the like, are Mr. Foxe's words. It seemes further, in relation of his life and death, he was a catholic-protestant, or a protesting catholic. For as he shows at large out of his books<282> and sermons, though he received the Pope's authority in Queen Mary's time; yet his opinion was, (as his writings before declared, and as the wiser sort, I think, do still hold of it,) that it is but a temporal constitution of men, and agreement of princes, to allow the same; which upon just occasions they may restrain or exclude, as they shall find cause. But yet I observe this, that although it was necessary for Queen Mary, in respect of her birth to admit of the Pope's authority, as the contrary was as necessary for her sister; yet this so catholic Queen, and this so popish prelate, could keep out the Pope's legate out of England by her royal prerogative, when he would have sent a legate hither not to her liking. Again, he was earnest against marrying of ministers, yet he confesseth frankly, that a married man may be a minister. He defended the real presence, yet he allowed the communion under both kinds; he wrote in defence of images, yet he publicly approved their pulling down where they were superstitiously abused. Finally, he said at his death, that it would mar all, to teach the people that they are freely justified by the blood of Christ; and yet, even then, when he could not dissemble, he confessed it to be true doctrine.
Lo how far this stout prelate, cedere nescius,<283> (as Mr. Foxe saith of him) did yield in those main points of Popery. 1. The Supremacy. 2. The marriage of some ministers. 3. The sacrament in both kinds. 4. Removing images. 5. Justification.
But now for his sharp persecuting or rather revenging himself on Cranmer and Ridley,<284> that had in King Edward's days deprived him, his too great cruelty cannot be excused.
Lastly, the plots he laid to entrap the Lady Elizabeth, his terrible hard usage of all her followers; I cannot yet scarce think of with charity, nor write of with patience.
My father, only for carrying of a letter to the Lady Elizabeth, and professing to wish her well, he kept him in the Tower twelve months, and made him spend a thousand pound ere he could be free of that trouble. My mother, that then served the said Lady Elizabeth, he caused to be sequestered from her as an heretic insomuch that her own father durst not take her into his house, but she was glad to sojourn with one Mr. Topcliff; so as I may say, in some sort, this bishop persecuted me before I was born.
Yet, that I speak not all out of passion, I must confess I have heard some as partially praise his clemency and good conscience; and namely, that he was cause of restoring many honourable houses, overthrown by King Henry the Eighth, and in King Edward's minority. The Duke of Norfolk, though Mr. Foxe saith that Gardiner made him stay long for his dinner one day, yet, both he, and those descended of him were beholding to him, with the house of Stanhope, and the Lord Arundel of Warder; and I have heard old Sir Matthew Arundel say, that Bonner<285> was more faulty than he, and that Gardiner would rate him for it; and call him Ass, for using poor men so bloodily; and when I would maintain the contrary, he would say, that my father was worthy to have lain a year longer in prison, for the saucy sonnet he wrote to him from out of the Tower; which sonnet, both because it was written in defence of Queen Elizabeth, and because (if I be not partial,) it is no ill verse, for those unrefined times, and toucheth the matter I enforce, I do here set down: presupposing that in the eleven months before, he had sent him many letters, and petitions full of reason (that could not prevails) for his liberty, the distressed prisoner writeth this rhyme.
1
AT least withdraw your cruelty,
or force the time to work your will;
It is too much extremity,
to keep me pent in prison still.
Free from all fault, void of all cause;
Without all right, against all laws.
How can you do more cruel spite
Than proffer wrong, and promise right?
Nor can accuse, nor will acquite.
2
Elev'n months past, and longer space,
I have abid your devilish drifts,
While you have sought both man and place,
and set your snares with all your shifts;
The faultless foot to wrap in wile,
With any guilt, by any guile;
And now you see it will not be,
How can you thus for shame agree
To keep him bound you ought set free?
3
Your chance was once as mine is now,
to keep this hold against your will,
And then you swore, you know well how,
though now you swerve, I know how ill.
But thus the world his course doth pass,
The priest forgets that clerk he was;
And you that then cried "Justice" still,
And now have justice at your will,
Wrest justice wrong, against all skill.
4
But why do I thus coldly plain,
as though it were any cause alone?
When cause doth each man so constrain,
as England through hath cause to moan,
To see your bloody search of such,
As all the earth can no way touch:
And better 'twere that all your kind,
Like hounds in hell, with shame were shrined,
Than you had might unto your mind.
5
But as the stone that strikes the wall
sometimes rebounds on th' hurlers head,
So your foul fetch to your foul fall
may turn, and 'noy the breast it bred.
And then such measure as you gave
Of right and justice, look to have;
If good or ill, if short or long;
If false or true, if right or wrong:
And thus, till then, I end my song.
But to show a pattern what partiality can paint in his praise, and what ill will can pervert to reproach, I will add an elegy in English also, written by one Mr. Pridiaux, in commendation, and the same answered in execration of the same bishop.
1
THE saints in Heaven rejoice,
this earth and we may wail;
Sith they have won and we have lost
the guide of our avail.
2
Though death have loosed life,
yet death could not deface
His worthy works, his staid state,
nor yet his gifts of grace.
3
As Gardiner was his name,
so gardened he his life
With justice, and with mercy both,
to stay the weeds of strife.
4
A Steven in religion stout,
a bishop by his acts,
A faithful man most free from fraud
as witness be his facts.
5
A judge most just in judgement seat,
of parties no regard;
An eye to see, an ear to hear,
a hand that shunned reward.
6
A heart to help, and not to harm;
his will was wisdom's law,
A mind that malice could not move,
such was of God his awe.
7
A faith in friendship firm and fast,
a mount the right to raise,
A spirit not 'palled with slanderous brutes,
nor puffed with pride by praise.
8
Not light of credit to reports,
revenge he never sought;
But would forget, and did forgive
the wrongs that were him wrought.
9
A truth so tried in trust,
as tongue could never taint,
Nor erst was heard, in guileful wise,
A lie with lips to paint.
10
Though Nature's child by birth,
yet virtue's heir in right,
Which held his height so modestly,
as measure mastered might.
11
Ambition's climbing cliff
could never move his mind,
Nor fortune with her fawning cheer,<286>
his heart did never blind.
12
Nor misery which most he felt,
or prison might him 'pall,
But bore his mind in level so,
as change could be no fall.
13
In all these turns of joy and woe,
he turned to the best;
And held him to the tried truth,
which now hath won him rest.
14
From foes deface, and envy's bell,
his end hath made him free,
And plucked him from this wicked world,
too worthy here to be.
15
Who can give tears enough to plain
the loss and lack we have
So rare a man, so soon bereft,
when most we did him crave.
18
When age and years had made him ripe,
and surety had him set,
To know himself and wield the world
and right with mercy met.
17
And when of envy, and of hate,
the conquest he had won,
And falsehood forced to fly his fort,
and right his race to run,
18
And when of glory and of grace.
he won the palm and price,
And conquered all affection's force,
with wisdom's good advice.
19
And in the office that he bore,
and service of his Queen,
So choice a man to serve her call,
scarce anywhere was seen.
20
Then death, that fatal foe,
the line of life did loose,
And in the belly of the earth
as earth she did him close.
21
The Prince may plain his death,
the realm his lack may rue;
All men may say, O Winchester,
most worthy wight, adieu!
22
The poor may plain and pine,
whose lacks he did relieve
His servants may lament their lord
which lordly did them give.
23
The bishops may behold
a bishop them bereft,
A perfect priest, a shield of faith,
a mirror of them left.
24
His foes, if any were,
that first did wish him gone,
In length of time and lack of like,
too late his loss will moan.
25
O pastor past this pilgrim's pain,
in earth thine acts do live,
In skies thy virtues written are,
all pens thee praise shall give.
26
Which after all these heaps of haps
a happy life hast led,
And, in the happiest hap of all,
in fame and love art dead.
The same answered verse for verse by an ill-willer of the said bishop.
1
THE devils in Hell do dance,
this realm and we may joy,
Since they have got and we forgone
the cause of our annoy.
2
Though death hath wiped out life,
yet death cannot outrace
His wicked works, usurped state;
nor faults of his deface.
3
A Gardiner<287> such he was,
as spoiled so our plants,
That justice withered, mercy died,
and we wrung by their wants.
4
A Steven in name, a fox in fact,
a bishop but in weeds,
A faithless man, full fraught with frauds,
as deem him by his deeds.
5
A partial judge in judgement seat,
of parties great respect,
A blinded eye, a closed ear,
a hand with bribe infect.
6
A heart to harm, and not to help,
his lust was laid for law,
A mind with malice overwhelmed,
of God nor man no awe.
7
A feigned fickle friend and false,
that right could never bide;
A courage every storm cast down,
and praise puffed up with pride.
8
Of foul reports and slanderous bruits
he nourished up the brood;
His wrongs to pardon or to pass,
revenge and rage withstood.
9
A tried untruth in trust,
as tongues well tried have told,
A mouth that breathed more odious lies
than I t'upbraid am bold.
10
Scant Nature's child by birth,
sure Satan's son in right,
Which rule maintained with sword and fire,
and measured all by might.
11
Ambitious climbing cliff
had ravished so his mind,
As he was sotted drunk therein,
And fortune made him blind.
12
The smell of prison's misery felt,
his pride did greatly 'pall;
He bore his staff so stagg'ringly,
as each change seemed a fall.
13
In all these turns of joy and woe
he turned with the best,
And never left the surer side
till breath did leave his breast,
14
From widow's curse and orphan's cry
his end him cannot save,
Though that have rid him of his reign
unworthy rule to have.
15
Who can give thanks and joy enough
that we have 'scaped this sire,
This monstrous man, this bloody beast,
when most we did desire.
16
When years had framed him fit for Hell,
and pride so high had set,
As God nor man nor self he knew,
and might with mischief met,
17
And when the envy and the hate
he won of every wight,
And falsehood flourished in his fort,
and wrong had wrung out right;
18
And when he gloried most in pomp,
in honour and in health,
And by affection conquered all,
and wallowed all in wealth;
19
And in the office that he bore,
to rule above the Queen,
So cruel end so merciless
scarce ever man was seen.
20
Then God, that most just judge,
life's line to part was pleased,
The earth his carrion corpse hath caught,
the Devil his soul hath seized.
21
The Prince his death may please,
this realm his life doth rue,
All men may well his birth-day ban
this cursed wretch that knew.
22
The poor may plain and pine;
for none he would relieve,
His men may joy his death was such
his goods was his to give.
23
Good bishops may beware
this ravener them bereft,
This popish priest, this shield of wrong,
a warning for them left.
24
His friends, if any were,
that wished him longer reign,
With length of time might cause have caught
too late his rule to plain.
25
O thou devourer of the good,
thy wrongs in earth do dwell,
Thy cruel thirst of guiltless blood
now must thou quench in hell.
26
Which in the world of deadly hurts
most hurtful life hast led,
And now with England's common joy
in shame and hate art dead.
Which of these wrote truest I will not take upon me to judge, lest I should be thought partial; but that saying appears true: scribit in marmore lęsus.<288> Therefore I will conclude against all partial poets, with two verses of Horace.
Falsus honor juvat, et mendax infamia terret
Quem, nisi mendosum et mendacem?<289>
