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Fridaie Morninge

THIS daie (when thou hast made the signe of the crosse, and prepared thy selfe hereunto) thou hast to meditate vpon the misterie of the crosse: And vpon these seuen wordes, which our Sauiour spake beinge crucified on the same.

Vere filius dei erat iste Math. 27.54. Peccata nostra ipse pertulit in corpore suo super lignum ut peccatis mortui iustitiae viveremus pet. 2.24.

Meditations Vpon These Poyntes of the Text

VE are now come (o my soule) to the holie mounte Caluarie, and we be nowe arriued at the toppe of the misterie of our redemption. O how wonderfull is this place? Verelie this is the howse of God, the gate of heauen, the lande of promise, and the place of saluation. Here is planted the tree of life. Here is placed that misticall ladder that Iacob sawe,1 which ioyneth heauen with the earthe, whereby the angells doe descende vnto men, and men doe ascende vnto almightie God. This is (o my soule) the place of praier. Here oughtest thou to adore, and blesse our Lorde, and geue him most humble, and hartie thanckes for this his most highe and excellent benefit: sayenge thus vnto him.

We worshippe and adore thee ô Lord Iesus Christ, and we blesse thy holie name, forsomuch as thou hast by meanes of this holie Crosse redeemed the worlde. Thankes be geuen vnto thee O most mercifull Sauiour, for that thou hast thus loued vs, and wass hed awaie our sinnes with thy most pretious bloude, and hast offered thy selfe for vs vpon the same Crosse: to the ende, that with the most sweete sauour of this noble sacrifice, enkendeled with the fier of thy most feruent loue, thou mightest satisfie, and appease the wrathe of almightie God. Blessed be thou therefore for euermore, which art the Sauiour of the worlde: the reconciler of mankinde: the reparer of Angelles: the restorer of the heauens: the triumphant conqueror of hell: the vanquisher of the diuell: the awthor of life: the destroier of deathe: and the redeemer of them,2 that were in darckenes, and in the shadowe of deathe.

All yee therefore that be a thirst, 3 come vnto the waters, and yee that haue neither golde, nor siluer: come, and receaue all these pretious treasures freely, without payinge anie thinge. Yee that desier the water of life, this is that misticall rocke, that Moyses strooke with his rodde in the wildernes,4 out of which there sprange water in great abondance, to satisfie the thirst of his afflicted people. Yee that desiere peace, and amitie with alinightie God, knowe yee that this is also that rocke,5 that the patriarke Iacob annointed with oyle, and erected vp for a title of peace, and amitie, betwene almightie God, and men. Yee that are desirous of wyne, to cure your woundes,6 this is that cluster of grapes, that was browght out of the lande of promise into this vale of teares, which is now crusshed, and pressed vpon the presse of the Crosse, for the remedie and redresse of our offences. Yee that desire the oyle of the grace of God: knowe yee likewise,7 that this is that pretious vessell of the widowe of Elizeus, full of oyle, wherewith we must all paie our dettes. And albeit the vessell seeme verie little to serue so manie, yet looke not to the quantitie, but to the vertue thereof: which is certeinlie so great, that so longe as there be vessels to fille, so longe will the vayne of this sacred licour alwaies ronne, and neuer ceasse.

A CONTEMPLATION VPON the misterie of the Crosse. § I

AWAKE, I praie thee now (o my soule,) and beginne to contemplate vpon the misterie of this holie Crosse, by the fruite whereof the hurte of that poisoned fruite is repared, which the forbidden tree caused vnto vs, throwgh the offence of the first man Adam. As the bridegrome hath signified to his spouse in the canticles. When he saied:8 I haue raised thee vp my spouse, from vnder the tree, because vnder an other tree thy mother was corrupted, when she was deceaued by the auncient serpente.

Consider then, how when our Sauiour came to this place, his cruell ennemies to make his deathe the more reprochefull, stripped him of all his apparell, euen to his innermost garment, which was wholie wouen throwghout without anie seame. Beholde now here, with what meekenes this most innocent lambe suffereth himselfe to be thus stripped of all his garmentes, without openinge his mowthe, or speakinge so much as one worde against them, that handeled him with such villanie: But shewed himselfe rather verie willinge, and readie, to be spoiled of his garmentes, and to remaine naked to the shame of the worlde: to the intent that the nakednes of such, as had throwgh sinne lost the garmente of innocencie, and grace receaued, might be be couered after a better sorte,9 than with the leaues of the figtree. Some holie fathers reporte, that the tormentors in pluckinge of our Sauiours garmentes, toke of his crowne of thorne, which then stucke fast on his head, and that afterwardes when they had stripped him starcke naked, they set it on agayne, and fastened the sharpe thornes to the brayne panne afreshe, and so made newe holes, and woū des therein, which was an exciedinge great griefe, and payne vnto him. And vndowtedlie it is to be thought, that they woulde vse this kinde of crueltie against him, forsomuch as we are well assured, that they vsed manie others, and those verie strange in all the proces of his passion: especially consideringe, that the holie Euangelist sayeth,10 that they did vnto him, whatsoeuer they woulde.

Agayne, by reason of his garment, that stucke fast to the woundes of his scourginges, and bloude, which was now congealed vnto the same: at what tyme they pluckt it of from his bodie, (as those caitiffes were farre from all pietie, and mercie) they haled it of with such furious haste, and force, that they loosed, and renewed, all the soores of his whippinges in such ruefull wise, that his blessed bodie was in all partes open, and as it were flaine, and became all one greate wounde, out of which distilled bloude on all partes.

Consider now here (o my soule,11) the excellencie of the goodnes, and mercie of almightie God, which sheweth it selfe so euidentlye in this misterie. Consider, how he that clotheth the heauens with cloudes, and adorneth the feildes with flowers, and bewtie, is here spoiled of all his garmentes. Consider how the bewtie of the Angells is here defiled: how the height of the heauēs is here browght lowe: how the maiestie and omnipotencie of almightie God is here abased and put euen to open shame, and reproche. Beholde, how that roiall bloude distillinge out from his brayne, trickeleth downe all alonge by the heare of his head, and by his sacred bearde, insomoche as it watereth, and dyeth the verie grownde vnder him. Consider what extreme colde that holie tender bodie of his suffered, standinge as he stode, all rente, and spoyled, not onelie of his garmentes, but also euen of his verie skynne, hauinge withall so manie gappes and wyde holes of open soores, and deepe woundes, throughout all his blessed bodie. For if S. Peter,12 notwithstandinge he was both clothed, and shodde, felt colde the night before: how farre greater smarte and colde did that most tender bodie of our sauiour abyde, beinge so naked, and full of soore bruses, and woundes as it was?

Whereby it appeareth, that albeit our Sauiour in all the whole cowerce of his life gaue vnto vs so wounderfull examples of nakednes,13 and pouertie: yet at his deathe he gaue himselfe vnto vs, as a most perfit patterne and spectacle of this vertue. Forsomuch as at that tyme he was in such a poore case, that he had no place, wherevpon to rest his head. And to geue vs to vnderstand, that he had taken nothinge of the worlde, he died naked vpon the crosse, and had nothinge of the worlde to cleaue vnto him.

Accordinge to this example,14 we reade of the blessed holie father S. Francis, who was such a perfit and trewe folower of this pouertie of our Sauiour Christe, that at what time he shoulde geue vp the ghost, he stripped him selfe starcke naked of all he had vpō him, and threwe himselfe from his bed vpon the bare grounde, and beinge thus naked, he embraced the earthe, to imitate herein (as a faithfull seruante) the nakednes, and pouertie, of his Lorde, and Sauiour. Awake therefore (o my soule) awake now I praye thee, and learne thou also hereby, to imitate our Sauiour Christ, poore and naked. Learne to despise all such thinges as this transitorie worlde maye geue vnto thee, that thou maist be worthie to embrace our Lorde naked, with naked armes, and be vnited vnto him by loue, which ought also to be naked, without mixture of anie other strange loue.

How Ovr Saviovr Was Nailed Vpon the Crosse. § Ii

CONSIDER after this, how our Sauiour was nailed vpō the Crosse, and how passinge great griefe, and tormente, he suffered at that time, when those great, and square nailes were driuen in, and pearced through the most sensible, and tender partes of his most blessed bodie, which was of all bodies most tē der, and delicate. And consider also, what an extreme grieffe it was to the blessed virgin, when she sawe with her eies, and hearde with her eares, the mightie, and cruell harde strokes, which were so often, and so thicke laied on, and iterated one after an other vpon his diuine members. For certainlie those hammers, and nailes, as they passed throwghe the handes of the sonne: so did they also pearce the verie harte of his most tender, and louinge mother.

Consider moreouer, how they lifted vp the Crosse on highe, and how when they went about to ramme it in the hole, which they had made for that purpose (such was the crueltie of those tormentinge raginge ministers) that at the verie time of rearinge it vp, and placinge it therein, they let it falle furiouslie from them, with a iumpe into the hoole, with all the weight thereof: and so all his blessed bodie was sore shaken, and iogged vp and downe in the aier, and thereby his woundes were wydened and enlarged, and his paines, and grieffes more encreased.

Now therefore (o my sweete Sauiour, and redeemer) what harte is so stonie harde, that will not ryue in sunder for verie sorrowe, and griefe, sith the verie stones them selues were ryuen the same daie, consideringe the extreme paine, that thou sufferedest on the Crosse.

The sorrowes of deathe ô Lorde, 15 haue compassed thee about, and the waues of the Sea haue ouer whelmed thee: Thou art myred in the depthe of the bothomles goulfes, and fyndest nothinge wherevpon to staie thy selfe. Thy father (ô Lorde) hath forsaken thee: what hope maist thou haue of men? Thy ennemies make outcries against thee: thy fryendes breake thy harte: thy soule is afflicted: and for the loue thou bearest to me, thou wilt not admit any maner of comforte. Vndowtedlie (ô Lorde) my sinnes were verie greate, and haynous, and that doth thy penance well declare. I see thee ô my kinge fastened to a tree, and there is nothinge to susteine thy bodie, but onelie three iron nailes, wherevpon thy sacred fleas he hangeth, without anie other staie or comforte. When the weight, and swaie of thy bodie staieth vpon thy feete, then are the woundes of thy feete the more torne, and enlarged, with the nailes wherewith they are pearced. Againe, when the weight of thy bodie staieth vpon thy handes, then are the woundes of thy handes the more rente, and enlarged also, with the poyce of thy bodie. One of thy members cannot succour an other, but with equall preiudice, either of the one, or of the other. Now as touchinge thy holie head, beinge thus tormented, and weakened with the sharpe crowne of thornes, what pillowe hath it to rest vpon? O how well might thy armes (ô most excellent virgin) be here employed to supplie this office? But alas thine armes maye not serue at this present, but onely the armes of the Crosse. Vpon them must our Sauiour staie his sacred head, when he will rest: and yet so, that the ease he taketh thereof is nothinge els, but a further driuinge in of the thornes, and fasteninge of the same deeper into the braine. Besides all this I see those foure principall woundes, as it were foure fountaines, alwaies distillinge out bloude. I see the grownde all besprinckled and bedewed rounde about with bloude. I see that most pretious licour all betrampled, and shed vpon the earthe, which crieth much better, then did the bloude of Abell.16 For his bloude cryed for vengeance ageinst the murderer; but this most pretious bloude of thine O sweete Iesus, craueth pardon for synners.

OF THE COMPASSION, THE SONNEHAD VPON HIS mother: and the mother vpon her sonne, hanginge vpon the…

THE sorowes of the sonne were much increased, by reason of the presence of his most blessed mother, wherewith his dolefull harte was no lesse crucified within, than his holie bodie without. Two crosses be here prepared for thee (ô good Iesus) this daie. The one for thy bodie, and the other for thy soule. The one is of passion, and the other of compassion: The one pearcethe thy most blessed bodie with nailes of iron: th'other pearceth thy most holie soule, with nailes of sorowe. Who is able to declare (ô sweete Iesus,) what an vnspekeable greife it was vnto thee, when thou diddest cō sider the greate anguishes of the blessed soule of thy holie mother, which thou knewest so certeinlie was crucified with thee on the crosse?17 When thou sawest her pittiefull harte pearced, and thrust throughe with the knife of heauines, and sorrowe? When thou diddest open thy blouddie eies, and beheldest her diuine face, whollie ouercast with palenes, and wannes of death. When thou sawest those most grieuous paynes, and anguishes of her minde, which was not resolued with deathe, and yet abode greater paines, then the verie paines of deathe it selfe. When thou beheldest those riuers of teares, which gusshed out from her most pure eies, and hardest those so lamentable deepe sighes, and sobbes, which burst out of her sacred brest, beinge enforced with the vehemencie of her most grieuous heauines, and sorowe. Certeinlie, ô Lorde, it can not be expressed with wordes, how muche this inuisible crosse tormented thy most pittiefull harte.

And who is able to declare also (o most blessed mother,) the greatnes of the sorrowes, and anguishes of thy dolefull harte. When thou sawest him dye with such grieuous tormentes, whom thou sawest borne with so great ioye? When thou sawest him scorned, and blasphemed of men, whom there thou sawest praised of the angells? When thou sawest that holie bodie, which thou haddest handeled with so great reuerence, and browght vp with such motherlie tendernes, and cheres hinges, so cuill entreated and tormented by most wicked persons? When thou beheldest that diuine mouthe of his, (which thou haddest nourished with the milke of heauen) distempered with the bitter tast of gaulle, and vynegar? When thou diddest also beholde that diuine head, (which thou haddest so often times laied and rested on thy virgines brest,) all to begored now with bloude, and crowned with thornes? O how often diddest thou lift vp thyne eies on highe, to beholde that diuine shape, that had so often times reioysed thy soule in beholdinge the same? And how often agayne, did thyne eyes turne aside from him, because the tendernes of thy harte coulde not abide to see that dolefull sighte.

What tonge is able to expresse the greatnes of this sorrowe? If the soules that loue our Sauiour Christe truelie, and vnfaynedly, when they meditate vpon these sorowes beinge now past, haue such a tender compassion vpon him, what diddest thou then o most blessed virgin, beinge his mother, yea and more than a mother, when thou sawest presentlie with thine eies, such a sonne, suffer such a most cruell, and painfull passion? If those women that accompanied our sauiour when he went with his Crosse towardes his death, beinge neither of kinne, nor of acquaintance vnto him, did weape, and lamente, to see him goe after such a pittiefull sorte: How great then was the abondance of teares that fell from thine eies O blessed mother, when thou sawest him, who was so deerelie beloued vnto thee, not onelie carryenge the Crosse on his shoulders, but nailed also fast vnto it, and hoysed vp alofte vpon the same?

And albeit these thy griefes, and sorrowes were so great, yet diddest not thou (ô blessed virgin) refuse the companie of the Crosse, neither wouldest thou turne thy backe, but stoodest there euen harde, and fast by the same; and not fallinge downe in sowndes, nor yet ouerthrowen to the grounde, but like a stronge pillar standinge vpright vpon thy feete,18 beholdinge with inestimable sorrowe, and heauines of minde thy deere sonne crucified on the crosse: to the ende, that like as Eue by beholdinge with delite that fruite, and tree of deathe, was the occasion of the perdition of the worlde: euen so thou (ô blessed Ladie) by beholdinge with greate griefe, and sorrowe, the fruite of life, which then was hanginge vpon that tree of the Crosse, mightest with thy presence, and eies, there see the remedie, and redemption of the worlde.

AN OTHER MEDITATION OF THE DOCTRINE, THAT MAIE be learned at the foote of the Crosse. § IIII

THE holie Euangelist saieth,19 that there stoode hard by the Crosse, Marie the mother of Iesus: and his mothers sister, Marie the wife of Cleophas: and Marie Magdalene. O that I were so happie, that I mighte stande in the companie of these three blessed Maries alwaies at the foote of the Crosse? O yee blessed Maries, who hath caused you to stande so constantly at the foote of the crosse? What cheyne is this, that thus holdethe you so fast lincked vnto this holie tree? O sweete Christe which beinge deade, doest mortifie the liuinge, and geuest life to the deade? O yee Angells of paradise, be not offended with me, thowghe I a sinner, and a very wicked person, be so bolde to come, and ioyne with this holie companie: because the loue I beare to my sweete sauiour draweth me vnto them, and the verie same loue enforceth me, to embrace this crosse. If theise three Maries, will not departe from the crosse? How can I departe from thence, knowinge that all my wealle, and saluation, consisteth in the same?

Assuredly the fyer shall first waxe colde, and the water shall naturally become hoate, before my harte shall departe from this crosse: sythence I vnderstande, what a lesson the loue of God teacheth me: to wit: How happie a thinge it is, to stande alwaies at the foote of the crosse. O holie crosse, thou drawest the hartes of men vnto thee more stronglie, than the Adamante stone draweth iron. Thou geauest a more cleare lighte to our vnderstandinge, thā the sonne doth to our eies. Thou enkē delest a more feruent heate in our soules, than fyer doth in the verie cooles. Drawe me therefore (O holie crosse) vnto thee, with great force and might. Illuminate me continuallie, and enflame me with thy mightie power, that my thoughte and mynde maie thinke vpon none other thinge, but onely vpon thee, and maye neuer departe from thee. And thou ô good Iesus, illuminate the eies of my soule, that I maye vnderstande how to looke and fixe mine eies, and thoughtes, vpon the crosse: to the ende, that I maye not onelie beholde the cruell paynes, and tormentes, thou hast suffered for me, and so by beholdinge them, take compassion of them: But also consider the examples of so manie wonderfull vertues, as thereby thou hast discouered vnto me, and inuited me to imitate, and followe the same.

Wherefore O most wise maister, and instructor of the worlde. O phisition of soules. Here I come to the foote of thy crosse to present vnto thee my soores, and woundes. Heale me ô my most mercifull, and omnipotent Lorde, and teache me what I ought to doe.20 I doe confesse, and acknowledge playnelie vnto thee (ô Lorde) that I am verie sensuall, and geuen ouermuche to the loue of my selfe, and I see well that this greatlie hinderethe my profitinge, and proceadinge in vertue, and godlines. Manie tymes for my recreation, and pastimes sake, or for feare of the paine of fastinge, and risinge vp early in the morninge, I passe ouer, and doe leese the godly and diuout exercises of praier, and meditation, with other holie spirituall exercises: by the losse whereof, I leese my selfe also. This sensualitie of mine is verie importune vpon me. It woulde faine eate and drinke verie finelie, and delicately, at such howers, and times, as it liketh: and after dinner, and supper, it woulde gladlie haue some idle talke, or els some pastyme, and recreation. It delighteth at such tymes to be walkinge in a faire greene garden, or orcharde, and there to take some sollace, and pleasure. Teache me now (ô my most louinge Sauiour, and redeemer,) what I ought to doe, whereby to followe thy example; and helpe me with thy grace, that I maie performe my dewtie in this pointe. O what a greate shame is it vnto me, to see after what sorte thou diddest handel thy blessed bodie, which was more tender, and delicate, than all other bodies. In the middest of the most bitter angwishes, and grieuous tormentes of thy death, thou diddest not geue vnto thy bodie anie other foode, or electuarie, but such as those cruell apoticaries had compounded of bitter gaule, and sower vineger for thee. Who then will from henceforthe haue anie tongue to complaine, that the meate set before him, is either to colde, or to salte, or to freashe, or not well dressed, or that it was ouer late, or to tymelie made readie: consideringe what a table was here prepared for thee, ô my almightie God: and that in the tyme of so great necessitie? In steede of the mirthe, and pleasante talke, and entertaynmente, which I seeke to haue at my suppers, and feastes, thou haddest none other, but onely outcries and clamorous noices of them, which shakinge theire heades at thee, scorned, and blasphemed thee: sayenge:21 Fye on thee, that destroiest the temple of God, and in three daies buildest it vp againe. This was the musicke, and mynstrelsie of thy bankette: and thy walkinge in a garden, was to be fast nailed handes, and feete, to the crosse. And albeit there was an other garden, into which thou wentest after thou haddest ended thy supper, yet was it not to walke in for pleasure, but to praie: not to take the aier, but to shéide bloude: not to recreat thy selfe, but to be pensiue, and sad, and in a greate agonie of deathe. Now what shall I saye of the other ease, and refresshinges, which thy blessed fleshe had? My fleashe would gladlie haue a softe bedde, curious and costly apparell, and a large and wyde howse. Tell me now (ô my sweete Sauiour,) what maner of bedde hast thou? What maner of howse hast thou? And what is thy apparell? Thy apparell is nakednes, and a purple coate of mockerie, and reproche. Thy howse is none other, but to stande openly abrode in the sonne, and aier. And if I seeke for anie other, I fynde it to be nothinge els, but onely a stable for beastes. The foxes haue theire holes,22 and the birdes of the aier theire neistes, and thou that art the creator of all thinges, hast no place where to rest thy head. O curiositie, and superfluitie? How are ye two crepte in, and so vsuallie, and vniuersallie receaued in this our corrupte age, throwghout all the countreys, and nations, of Christendome?23 O what maner of Christians be we, that doe not vtterlie abandon from vs, all maner of fyne deyntienes, curiositie, and superfluities, knowinge that our Lorde, and maister, vtterlie abandoned from him, not onelie all maner of deyntienes, and superfluities, but also euen such thinges, as were of necessitie.

I desire now O Lorde to see also what maner of thinge thy bedde is. Tell me (ô sweete Sauiour) where doest thou lodge? Where sleepest thou at noone daie? Here I sette my selfe at thy feete:24 Teache me I most humblie beseeche thee, what I ought to doe. For this my sensualitie will not suffer me to vnderstande well this language of thy crosse. I desire a softe bedde, and if I awake early in the mornynge at the hower of praier, and diuine seruice, I suffer my selfe to be ouercome with slouthe, and drowsienes,25 and I expect duelie for the morninge sleepe, that my head maie take an other nappe, and so haue his full ease, and rest. Tell me ô my most gratious, and louinge Lorde, what rest haddest thou on that harde bedde of the crosse? When thou wast wearie in lienge on the one side, how diddest thou turne thee on the other, to take the better rest? What harte is not ouercome and broken in sonder herewith? What? Is not this enoughe to kill all sensualitie in vs? O what a comfort is this to the poore? What a confusion to the riche? What an encouragement to the penitentes? And what a condemnation to nice, delicate, and sensuall persons? Certeinly the bedde of our Sauiour Christe is not for such fyne delicate wantons, neither is his glorie in heauen prepared for them. Geue me grace (ô Lorde) that I maye by thy example mortifie this my sensualitie. And if it be not thy blessed will to graunte me this request, I beseache thee then euen now out of hande to ende my life. For it is not meete, nor seemelie, that thou, (ô my omnipotent Lorde, and redeemer) beinge vpon the crosse, and hauinge none other comforte, nor refress hinge, but onely bitter gaulle, and sower vinegar, I shoude seike for sweete sauoures, delicate fare, sugered sawces, with other curious deynties, pleasures, and ease, in this miserable life. It is not meete that thou beinge thus poore and naked, I shoulde goe wanderinge and leesinge my selfe after the transitorye goodes and riches of this worlde? It is not reason that thou hauinge none other bedde, but onely the harde and painfull crosse, I shoulde seeke to haue a softe bedde, and other delicacie, and ease, for my wretched bodie.

Be thou therefore greatelie ashamed,26 ô my soule, beholdinge our Lorde, and Sauiour, on the harde paynefull tree of the crosse: and make accompte, that from the same crosse he preacheth vnto thee, and rebuketh thee: sayenge: O man I haue for thy sake worne a crowne of thornes: and doest thou in contempte of me, weare a garlande of flowers, with golden chaynes, aglettes, bruches, and gaye oystreche fethers? I for thy sake haue stretched forthe my armes to be nayled, and tormented vpon the crosse: and doest thou stretche forthe thyne to pleasante games, and pastimes? I beinge a thirst at my verie death, had not so much as a litle colde water, and seekest thou after pretious wynes, delicate meates, and deyntie sugered sawces? I was on the crosse, and in all my whole life tyme, full of dishonors, reproches, and grieuous labours and paines, and doest thou spende all the daies of thy life seekinge after dignities, offices, promotions, estimations, pleasures, and delites? I was verie willinglie contented, that my syde shoulde be opened to geue thee my verie harte, and hast thou thyne open to vaine and dangerous loues of the worlde?

WHAT PATIENCE WE OVGHT TO HAVE IN ALL TROVBLES, and aduersities, followinge the example of our…

THOV hast taught me now ô Lorde from the chaire of the Crosse the lawes of temperance: teache me also at this present the lawes of patience, whereof I haue suerlie verie great neide. Thou hast cured that parte of my soule, which is called concupiscible: Cure also I beseeche thee, that parte, which is called irascible. Forsomuch as thy crosse is a medicine for all the whole man, and the leaues of that holie tree, are the healthe of all nations.

Sometimes I haue sayd, and purposed with in my selfe: I will neuer from henceforthe falle out, or be angrie agayne with anie man: I will surelie keepe peace with all persones: and therefore I thinke it good for me, to auoyde all companie, and thereby to eschewe all occasions of trouble, contention, and anger.

But now, ô Lorde, I vnderstande my weakenes in this poynte. For to flee from companie, is not a meane to subdue anger: but rather to couer, and hide myne owne imperfection. And therefore I will from henceforthe carie euer with me, a mynde readie prepared, to liue not onelie with the good, but euen with the wicked also, and to keepe peace with such colericke, waywarde, and frowarde contentious persons, as doe abhorre peace. Thus I purpose from henceforthe to doe: grawnt me thy grace therefore ô almightie God, that I maie dewlie accomplishe this my good intent. If others shall take my landes, or goodes awaye from me, graunte me thy grace ô Lorde, that I be not angrie nor grieued therewith: seinge I see thee thus spoyled, and naked, vpon the Crosse. If they shall take my credite, honor, and estimation frō me, let not that cause me to breake peace with them: seinge I see thee here, ô Lorde, so despised, dishonored, and contemned. If my fryendes and acquaintāce shall forsake me; let me not therefore be confounded, seinge I see thee thus left alone, and forsaken not onely of thy disciples, and fryendes, but also of thyne owne heauenly father. And if it shall seeme to me at anie tyme, that I am forsaken of thee, yet let me not for all that lose my confidence, and trust in thee: seinge thow diddest not loose thine, but after thou haddest made an ende of saienge those wordes.27 My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? Diddest forthewith recommende thy spirite into the handes of him, who had forsaken thee: sayenge? O father into thy handes, I commend my spirite. 28 And therefore euen now at this instant I request, that from henceforthe all troubles, and persecutions maie come and falle vpon me, and not to spare me, forsomuch as all such thinges con doe nothinge els vnto me, but geue me occasion to be a folower of thee my sweete Lorde and Sauiour Iesus Christ.

But now (ô my Lorde) what if the troubles and persecutions shalbe verie great and longe, wherewithall shall I then comforte my selfe? For thy passions althoughe they were verie greate, yet it seemed that they continued not anie longe tyme, forsomuch as all the martirdome of thy passion, did not continewe altogether twentie howers. Now he that hath bene tenne yeares bedridden, or lyen in fetters in harde prison, or in continuall necessitie, trouble, and dissension, within his owne howse, and famylie, what comfort shall he finde in thee, for so longe a combatte and tribulation? Answer (ô Lorde) I beseache thee, vnto this demande, forsomuch as thou arte the worde, and the wisedome of the father. Tell me whether thou be the vniuersall comforter in all miseries, be they neuer so longe? Or els whether we neede to seeke anie other comforter for them? Verelie ô Lorde, we haue no neede of anie other comfortor, but onely thee. For vndowtedlie, the crosse whereon thou diddest suffer, was not a martirdome of one daie onely, but it continued all thy whole life.29 For euen from the verie first hower, and instant of thy most holie conception, there was represented vnto thee, both the crosse, and withall, all the cruell, bitter paines, and tormentes, that thou shouldest suffer vpon the same: and so thou haddest them all continuallie verie liuelie set before thyne eyes all the daies thou diddest liue here on earth. For like as all thinges both past, and to come, were present before the eies of thy diuine vnderstandinge: euen so also were all the martirdomes, and instrumentes of thy passion. There were the crosse, the nailles, the scourges, the thornes, the cruell speare, with all other thy most bitter paines, and tormentes, at all tymes as liuely present before thy sight, as when thou sawest them with thy eies the verie same frydaie, that thou wast crucified on the Crosse. We, though we suffer neuer so greate, and extreme paines, yet we haue alwaies some tyme of ease, either by meanes of phisicke, or other comforte: but thy paine was alwaies in a maner continuall, or at the least it did verie often times torment thee in thy sowle, duringe the tyme thou diddest liue here in this worlde. And albeit this consideration of thy bitter tormentes, and passion, had not tormented thee, yet was the verie zeale of thy fathers honor, and desire of the saluation of our soules, a continual torment vnto thee, which vndowtedlie did eate, and rente thy pittiefull louinge harte, and was a more cruell martirdome vnto thee, than the verie death it selfe. Wherevnto was also added the obstinate malice, which thou sawest in that rebellious people, (the Iewes:) and with all the stubbornnes and ingratitude of all other sinners, (for whose remedie and redemption thou wast sent) which woulde not helpe themselues with the benefite thereof, nor yet acknowledge the tyme of theire visitation. This was the cause of those pittiefull teares,30 thou diddest sheide vpon Ierusalem: and hereof rose the complainte thou madest by thy Prophet Esaie, sayenge: In vaine haue I traueyled, 31 and in vaine haue I consumed my strengthe.

Wherefore O my soule, thou hast here with whom thou maist keepe cōpanie, and take comforte in thy longe paines and troubles. For althoughe the last paines, and tormentes, of the holie bodie of our Sauiour were shorte, yet were the greifes, and paines, of his pittiefull harte and soule verie longe, and continuall.

Footnotes

  1. Genes. 28. ↩

  2. Luc. 1. ↩

  3. Esay. 55. ↩

  4. Exod. 17. ↩

  5. Genes. 35. ↩

  6. Num. 13. ↩

    1. Reg 4.
    ↩

  8. cantic. 8. ↩

  9. Genes. 3. ↩

  10. Lucae. 23. ↩

  11. The nakednes of our Sauiour vpon the crosse. ↩

  12. Ioan. 18. ↩

  13. Our Sauiour Christ was a most perfit patterne of pouertie vnto vs vpon the crosse. ↩

  14. S. Francis was a perfit folower of the pouertie of our Sauiour Christ. ↩

  15. Psalm. 17. Psalm. 68. ↩

  16. Genesis 4. Heb. 12. ↩

  17. Luc. 2. ↩

  18. Genes. 3. ↩

  19. Ioan. 19. ↩

  20. we may learne to ouercome our sensualitie and selfe loue by beholdinge our Sauiour Christe vpon the crosse. ↩

  21. Matth. 27. ↩

  22. Math. 8. ↩

  23. A notalbe admonitiō against the vyces of deyntienes, and superfluitie. ↩

  24. Cant. 1. ↩

  25. we desire to lye on softe fether beddes and our sauiour Christe laye on the harde bedde of the crosse. ↩

  26. How our Sauiour Christe rebukethe from the crosse, our pompe, delicacie, curiositie and superfluitie. ↩

  27. Math. 27. ↩

  28. Marc. 15. Psalm. 21. ↩

  29. Our sauiour had his crosse and passion verie liuelie represented daylye before his eyes, from the verie first hower of his conception, vntill his deathe. ↩

  30. L[…]c. 19. ↩

  31. Esa. 49. ↩

Chapter 12 of 29