Therfore in this satyre suche wyll I repreue And none that borowe nor lene on amyte The vsurers: fals cristen men in theyr byleue Folowe the waren way of theyr iniquyte Prohybyte by lawe iustyce and equyte Theyr vnclene hertes, and mynde, vnhappely On lucre settynge, comynge by vsury They hepe theyr synne in quantyte horryble Labowrynge that lewde burthen gretter to make And that sore weght tedyose and terryble With a great rope vpon theyr shulders take The weyght vp taken all theyr hole ioyntes quake Thus these caytyfs with this rope and burthyn heuy Them selfe hange damnynge theyr soule eternally A wretchyd man, alas make clere thy reason Remember thoughe god the suffer thus longe tyme He graunteth that space to amende the in season. And nat dayly to encreas thy synne and cryme Somtyme he punyssheth with infernall abhyme Shortly for synne, somtyme thoughe one mysdo He suffreth longe: but yet truste nat therto The longer vnpunysshed, the sorer is the payne And if thou wylt nat gyue to me credence Of sodome and Gomor the Bybyll sheweth playne Howe God rightwysely ponysshed theyr offence And also Solym, towne of great excellence For vyciousnes god ponysshed bytterly Whiche sholde vs cause for to lyue rightwysely. The rightwyse god also dyd sore chastyce Tthe Nilicolyans and them vtterly destroy For theyr contynuynge in theyr syn and vyce And theyr lynage longe kepte from welth and ioy In great trouble whiche dyd theyr hertis noy: Howe be it that they were good and innocent For theyr fathers faute they suffred punysshement But to our purpose to retourne agayne. He that ought boroweth whiche he can nat pay Of a wolfe rauysshynge foloweth the trayne But though he all swolowe yet can he by no way Deuoure the tyme nor the prefyxed day Wherfore if he than disceyue his credytour He oft hym chastyth with iustyce and rygour Ryght in lyke wyse our lorde omnipotent In this worlde to lyue grauntyth vs tyme and space Nat styll to synne, but vnto this intent To leue our vyce, and folowe the way of grace But if we styll contynue in one case And haue done no good to pay hym at our day In hell pryson he iustly shall vs lay BARKLAY TO THE FOLYS. Thou fole mysmyndyd to large of sconscyence To the I speke that art a lewde dettour Borowe thou no thynge, noble grote ne pens. More than thou mayst agayne pay thy credytour Right so endeuer the to pay thy sauyour His right and dewty, with a glad wyll and fayne That is true seruyce, with glory and honour Than shalt thou surely escape infernall payne. * * * * * Of inprofytable and vayne prayers vowes and peticyons.