Heywood, John · published 1544 · first performed or written 1520 [c.1520-1522] (Annals) not in BritDrama T5 Christian faith, sin and salvation typicality 0.79 · 529 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T5: god, christ, david, sin, holy, israel, lord, mercy, sins, faith.
Forsooth this life I did begin To rid the bondage of my sin For which these saints rehearsed or this I have both sought and seen iwis beseeching them to be record Of all my pain unto the lord That giveth all remission Upon each man's contrition And by their good mediation Upon mine humble submission I trust to have in very deed For my soul health the better speed. Now is your own confession lyckely To make yourself a fool quickly For I perceive ye would obtain No nother thing for all your pain But only grace your soul to save Now mark in this what wit ye have To seek so far and help so nigh Even here at home is remedy. For at your door myself doth dwell Who could have saved your soul as well As all your wide wand'ring shall do Though ye went thrice to Iericho Now sins ye might have sped at home What have ye won by ronning at Rome. If this be true that ye have moved Then is my wit in deed reproved But let us here first what ye are Truly I am a pardoner. Truly a pardoner that may be true But a true pardoner doth not ensue Right seld is it seen or never. That truth and pardoners dwell together For be your pardons never so great Yet them to enlarge ye will not let With such lies that oft-times Cryste wots Ye seem to have that ye have not Wherefore I went myself to the self thing In every place and without feigning Had as much pardon there assuredly As ye can promise me here doutefully How be it I think ye do but scofte But if ye had all the pardon ye keep of And no whit of passion granted In any place where I have haunted Yet of my labour I nothing repent. God hath respect how each time is spent And as in his knowledge all is regarded So by his goodness all is rewarded By the first part of this last tale It seemeth you come late from the ale For reason on your side so far doth fail That ye leave soning and begin to rail Wherein ye forget your own part clearly For ye be as untrue as I And in one point ye are beyond me For ye may lie by authority that hath wandered so far That no man can be their controller And where ye esteem your labour so much I say yet again my pardons be such That if there were a thousand souls on a heap I would bring them all to heaven as good cheap As ye have brought yourself on pilgrimage In the lest quarter of your voyage Which is far a this side heaven by god There your labour and pardon is odd With small cost and without any pain These pardons bringeth them to heaven plain give me but a penny or two pens And as soon as the soul departeth hens In half an hour or three quarters at most The soul is in heaven with the holy ghost
seed 43: T4 · seed 44: T5 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
¶Forſoth this lyfe I dyd begyn To rydde the bondage of my ſyn For whiche theſe ſayntes reherſed or this I haue both ſought and ſene Iwys Beſechynge them to be recorde Of all my payne vnto the lorde That gyueth all remyſſyon Vpon eche mans contricyon And by theyr good mediacyon Vpon myne humble ſubmyſſion I truſt to haue in very dede For my ſoule helth the better ſpede. ¶Nowe is your owne confeſſyon lyckely To make your ſelfe a fole quyckely For I perceyue ye wolde obtayne No nother thynge for all your payne But onely grace your ſoule to ſaue Nowe marke in this what wyt ye haue To ſeke ſo farre and helpe ſo nye Euen here at home is remedy. For at your dore my ſelfe doth dwell Who coulde haue ſaued your ſoule as well As all your wyde wandrynge ſhall do Though ye wente thryes to Iericho Nowe ſyns ye myght haue ſpedde at home What haue ye wone by ronnyng at Rome. ¶If this be true that ye haue moued Then is my wyt in dede reproued But let vs here fyrſte what ye are ¶Truly I am a pardoner. ¶Truely a pardoner that may be true But a true pardoner doth nat enſew Ryght ſelde is it ſene or neuer. That treuth and pardoners dwell together For be your pardons neuer ſo great Yet them to enlarge ye wyll nat let With ſuche lyes that oftymes Cryſte wot Ye ſeme to haue that ye haue nat Wherfore I went my ſelfe to the ſelfe thynge In euery place and without faynynge Had as muche pardon there aſſuredly As ye can promyſe me here doutefully Howe be it I thynke ye do but ſcofte But yf ye hadde all he pardon ye kepe of And no whyt of paon graunted In any place where I haue haunted Yet of my labour I nothynge repent. God hathe reſpect how eche tyme is ſpent And as in his knowlege all is regarded So by his goodnes all is rewarded ¶By the fyrſte parte of this laſte tale It ſemeth you come late from the ale For reaſon on your ſyde ſo farre doth fayle That ye leue ſonyng and begyn to rayle Wherin ye forget your owne parte clerely For ye be as vntrue as I And in one poynte ye are beyonde me For ye may lye by aucthoryte that hath wandred ſo farre That no man can be theyr controller And where ye eſteme your labour ſo muche I ſay yet agayne my pardons be ſuche That yf there were a thouſande ſoules on a hepe I wolde brynge them all to heuen as good chepe As ye haue brought your ſelfe on pylgrymage In the leſte quarter of your vyage Whiche is farre a thys ſyde heuen by god There your labour and pardon is od With ſmale coſt and without any payne Theſe pardons bryngeth them to heuen playne Geue me but a peny or two pens And as ſone as the ſoule departeth hens In halfe an houre or thre quarters at moſte The ſoule is in heuen with the holy ghoſt