A balade of a preist that loste his nose
For sayinge of masse as I suppose.
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WHoso list heare of a wonderous chaunce
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Of late I mette with one did me tell
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The craftiest priest in England or Fraunce
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Hath lost his nose, and how should he smell
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He went to his freinde his mynde to disclose
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And as he came home one cut of his nose.
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It is a gentleman, a priest he tolde me
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To tell you his name I do not much passe
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It is olde syr John the vycar of Lee
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which rayles at gods boke & reeles at his masse
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His cankarde mynde he cannot kepe close
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yet he served him shrewdly that cut of his nose.
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His smeller is smitten cleane from his face
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yet was there but one as he did saye
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which caught him and pluckt of his nose in that place
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A hie man, a lowe man, a foxe, or a graye
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Tenne shillinges he saith in his purse he did lose
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I thinke he lied therof, but not of his nose
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Great serching was sence that smeller to seke
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Some for hast left their scabbert at home
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Some had gunnes some halberts some forked pikes
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some in shyrts of maile like a lusty mome
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There was never sene before I suppose
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Such tossing and tombling for a priestes nose.
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Som men that thought him no harme in ther life
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But because they feare God, and do go about
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To live with pure conscience & be without strife
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Thei ar bound to the peas now for a priests snout
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But because he can kepe mens horedom so close
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Therfore they make such a worke for his nose.
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Because his scollers did mock at his masse
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He said he wolde make bloud run by their heles
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But God hath turned the plage from their arse
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And he with his nose did bloudy the stiles
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with bloud I hard saye as red as a rose
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he dronke well belike before he lost his nose.
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What maner of nose was it sir ye sought for
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A black nose, a red nose, or one like my fist
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To be without nose was the marke of an whore
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And now it is the marke of an whorishe priest
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And now you are ryd right well of the pose
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why do you make suche a worke for your nose.
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Or was your nose somewhat wan or pale
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A blewe nose a bottle nose, or was it yellowe
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Nos autem have sene it sometime at the ale
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Libera nos salva nos from the swap of the swalowe
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But why did ye use syr to lye so and glose
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was it any mervayle though ye lost your nose.
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Some men are living to whom he did say
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Seing he knew the truth, if ever he sayd masse
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He wisht that some membre might be cut away,
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Now at his request it is come to passe
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Much work he doth make for the lomp he did lose
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well, what will ye geve syr for a newe nose.
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But what shal we say, yf men do not lye
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who cut of the priestes nose it is harde to judge
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But he himself I think did it of envy
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And then to bewite it to them he did grudge
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That therby they might ther kingdom up close
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As sometime Sopirus did snap of his nose
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For sometime he sayth it was but a mome
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And eftsone a talle man this he doth name
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But styll he affyrmeth it was but one
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which caught him and brought his nose out of frame
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Could one man so do it as you suppose
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Except he were willing to have of his nose.
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Remedie is none, but this thinge is true
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His snout is snapts of how[s]oever it was
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I thinke it were best to make him a new
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As sone he may do it, as god at his masse
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yf he cannot make him a snout, I suppose
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he cannot make god no more then his nose
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Seing the true God is gone from your towne
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And god Pean & Baccus doth rule in his stede
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with hoysty and soysty over shoulder & crowne
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yet hath he no more life then a lompe of leade
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yf he have, then charge him that man to disclose
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which met you & caught you, & cut of your nose.
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But yf you do use the true god to mocke
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And geve his honor to your god in the purse
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Loke whom ye blesse, and in blyndnesse rocke
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The living god will you & your blessinges curse
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And at length your falsehed to all men disclose
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And then no dout your head wyl folow your nose
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Take hede I saye you chaplyns of Balle
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Though ye have fed longe at Jesabels borde
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Not longe but helias shall geve you a fall
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Repent and returne to the livinge Lorde
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Though ye pricke till bloud runne by your toes
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ther wil a worse chance com then lesing your nose
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I wyll not pray for you, let them do that liste
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For feare God with me should be miscontent
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Seyng of purpose the holy ghost you resiste
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And if ye have cleane forgotten to repent
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when God shall the secretes of all men disclose
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ye shal have as much help as the preist of his nose
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But you have a vauntage syr if you mark all
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if a mous catch your god, when ye have made it
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Then ye may catche the mouse fast by the walle
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For how can you hurt your nose except ye had it
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The proverbe is true in you I suppose
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He cannot tell where to turne his nose.
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