The wonderfull example of God shewed upon Jasper Coningham, a Gentleman borne in
Scotland, who was of oppinion that there was neither God nor Divell, Heaven nor Hell.
To the tune of O neighbour Robert.
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IT was a Scotchman,
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a Scotchman lewd of life:
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That long had lived,
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unlawfull from his wife.
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His name was Jasper Coningham,
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as I doe understand:
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whose dwelling was neer Aberdine,
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a towne in faire Scotland.
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He had a sister,
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which was both faire and bright:
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Worshipfully wedded,
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unto a wealthy knight.
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Godly, wise, and vertuous,
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in everything was she:
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A fairer comely Lady,
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in Scotland could not be.
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Her wicked brother,
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such inward pangs did proove:
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With his faire sister,
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he greatly falles in love.
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He watches time he woes her,
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and shewes to her his minde:
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And still he saith sweet sister:
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be not to me unkinde.
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This comely Lady,
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in milde and gentle wise:
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Unto her brother,
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thus modestly replyes,
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The Lord forbid deare brother,
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I should consent at all,
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To such a damned action,
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to bring our soules in thrall.
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Is not great torments,
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prepar'd for hatefull sinne:
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Is not God as righteous,
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as he hath ever bin:
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Is not hell prepared,
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with quenchles flames of fire:
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To give such wicked persons,
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their due deserved hire.
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Her brother hearing,
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her godly Christian talke:
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Within the garden,
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as they alone did walke,
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Blasphemously replied,
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all shameles as he stood:
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Saying she had declared,
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a tale of Robin Hood.
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You are deceived,
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faire sister then quoth he:
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To talke of heavens glorie,
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or of hels paine to me.
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These are devised fables,
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to keepe poore fooles in feare:
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That were by wisemen written,
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though no such things there were.
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Alasse he said my sister,
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these things are nothing so:
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No God nor divell is biding,
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no heaven nor hell I know.
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All things are wrought by Nature,
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the earth, the aire, and skie:
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There is no joy nor sorrow,
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after that man dooth die.
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Therefore let me have pleasure,
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while here I doe remaine:
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I feare not Gods displeasure,
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nor hels tormenting paine.
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No sooner had he spoken,
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this foule blasphemous thing:
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But that a heavie judgement,
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the Lord did on him bring.
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For in the garden,
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whereas he did bide:
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Sodainely a fire,
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sprung up on every side.
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Which round about enclosed,
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this damned wretch that day:
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Who roar'd and cri'd most greevously
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but could not start away.
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This fearefull fire,
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by to his knees did rise:
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Burning blew like Brimstone,
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in most outragious wise.
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The Lady which beheld it,
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ran crying in for ayde:
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To plucke away her brother,
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which in the fier staid.
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But not a finger,
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nor hand that he could moove,
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His armes hung dead beside him,
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great paine that he did proove:
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And now he bans and curses,
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the day that he was borne:
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And wishes that his carcase,
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by divels might be torne.
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Now feele I surely,
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quoth he there is a God:
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That sore dooth plague me,
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with his strong Iron rod.
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O hide me from his presence,
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his lookes are death to me:
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Nothing but wrath and vengeance,
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about him I doe see.
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And with these speeches,
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his eyes fell from his head,
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And by the strings hung dangling,
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below his chin starke dead.
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See how the divels he said,
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have pluckt my eyes out quite:
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That alwayes were unworthy,
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to view the heavens light.
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Then from his mouth,
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his foule blasphemous tongue:
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In uglie manner,
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most pitiously it hung:
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And there away it rotted,
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in all the peoples sight:
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By lice and filthy vermin,
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it was consumed quite.
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With gastly gronings,
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and shrikes that sounded hye:
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two houres after,
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this cursed man did lie:
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And there at length he died,
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and then the fire ceast:
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His carcase stunk more filthilie,
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then any carrion beast.
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No man was able,
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for to endure the smell:
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Nor yet to come to burie him,
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as true report doth tell,
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Untill he was consumed,
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he lay above the ground:
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the doores about the garden,
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therefore was locked round.
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Let all blasphemers,
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take warning by this thing:
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Least that Gods vengeance,
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they do upon them bring:
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And Lord grant all good Christians
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his grace and godly feare,
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they may thinke on the punishment,
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that Coningham had here.
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