_The Copye of a letter, sent by John Bradford to the right honorable lordes the Erles of Arundel, Darbie, Shrewsbury, & Penbroke, declarīg the nature of spaniardes, and discouering the most detestable treasons, whiche they haue pretended moste falselye againste oure moste noble kyngdome of Englande. Whereunto is added a tragical blast of the papisticall trōpet for mayntenaunce of the Popes kingdome in Englande. by. T.E. If ye beleue the trueth, ye saue your liues_, &c. 12mo, and without date or printer’s name on the title-page: the copy now before me is imperfect at the end, where perhaps both are given. According to Herbert’s _Ames’s Typ. Antiq._ iii. 1582, this piece was printed in 1555. In the two subjoined passages (perhaps in more) of this tract, the author adopts the Skeltonic metre, though the whole is printed as prose:— “There be many other noble menne [among the Spaniards, besides the duke of Medena-zelie] vndoubtedly very wise and politik, which can throughe their wisdome binde themselues for a time from their nature, and applye their condicions to the maners of those menne with whom they would gladlye bee frended; whose mischeuouse maners a man shal neuer knowe, till he come vnder their subiection. But then shall ye perceiue perfectly their puffed pride, with many mischeffes beside, their prowling and poling, their bribinge and shauing, their most deceitfull dealing, their braging and bosting, their flatteringe and faininge, their abominable whorehuntynge, with most rufull ruling, | their doings vniust, | with insaciate lust, | their stout stubbernnes, | croked crabbednes, | and vnmeasurable madnes, | in enui, pride, and lecherie, | which, thei saie, God loueth hartelie, | vaineglorie and hipocrisie, | with al other vilanie | of what kinde soeuer it be; | supersticion, desolacion, extorcion, adulacion, dissimulacion, exaltacion, suppression, inuocacion, and all abominacion; with innumerable moe mischeues, whiche I coulde plainlie declare, that no nacion in the world can suffer. Their masking and mumbling | in the holi time of lent | maketh many wiues brente, | the king being present, | nighte after nighte, | as a prince of moste mighte, | which hath power in his hande | that no man dare withstande: | yet if that were the greatest euil, | we might suffer it wel, | for there is no man liuing | but would suffer the king | to haue wife, sister, doughter, maide and all, | bothe great & smal, | so many as he liste, | no man would him resist; | but the worst of all the companie | muste haue my wife priuelie, | when I am present bi; | this is more vilanie, | that one muste kepe the dore; | will not that greue you sore? | & dare not speake for your life, | when another hath youre wife,” | &c. Sig. B i.