Laurence Humphrey.

John Wade, University of Sheffield

We marvel at the sad Iliad of learned Homer, which, although he was a blind man, he skilfully applied himself to compose. The fates of many men are bewailed in tragic style and sad audiences watch these unfold with wet cheeks. Certainly many things have to be grieved for, but many are the dreams of poets, and they interweave truth with fiction and what is proved with what is not legitimate. There are those who delight in the inventions of the false Legend which you can rightly call an Augean stable. While it tells of the life and death of Holy men, how does that leaden book make mistakes, how does it embellish, how does it invent? Now at last a new and real Golden Legend is coming to the fore: an outstanding Chronicle, a mournful history. The work commends its author, and so again the author adorns the work: at the same time each of these is free from gall. Look at the author: he is just, concise but full and clear in judgement, skill and faith. If you consider the matter, he is dealing with the deaths and murders of good men, and the cruel 'stigmata' of an undeserved cross. Let other people mock, let them revile, but while Zoilus perished long ago, he has now taught what it is to slander. Here you may learn, Reader, how full of fury is the tyranny of the Roman pig-sty and the horned flock: how the wolf always attacks innocent lambs: how it growls and devours the bones with its greedy jaws. Had it not been enough to burn the holy limbs of Christ? and is it not enough to destroy the living in the flames? Is it not sufficient to have condemned old men and boys and men in their prime, and not enough to have condemned women of every class? Why does it please, alas, to censure dead spirits with writings, and to say that Foxe's divines stink of dung heaps? Ah, you poor man, ah, you are stinging the tender little eyes of Christ, you are touching his pupil, whoever you are, so be wise. This is the progeny whose robe, having been washed in the blood of the lamb, shines completely white through Christ. How long does it (sc. the progeny) lament beneath the altar, Christ? Christ, come quickly. Christ, how long will you bear it? Your progeny is beyond weapons, and it preaches God. Its death was costly, but its life will be everlasting. Why are you raging, O furious Satan? Why are you hurling darts? Why do you enrage kings, and why do you tear the good to pieces? Executioners, prison, tortures and firebrands are in vain. The limbs together with the head reign in heaven. The world has consumed the bodies of the saints, but their souls have departed on high and Foxe has their names. Foxe has names to be celebrated throughout the whole world, names which cannot now be buried by any length of day. For Foxe will live with the Martyrs and their names will live with God and their noble lineage with their God. Christ, show a harbour for your people, check the waves, and let there be its rest for the buffeted ship. Let the earth not be wet with the blood of brothers after this: may Foxe not continue to write of martyrdoms. May you curtail the ruined times of a wicked life and may that deadly cup finally pass by. Most excellent father, may there be an end and may your kingdom come: glory be to you, to Christ and to the Spirit. Amen.

Abraham Hartwell

John Wade, University of Sheffield

Your eloquence, venerable Foxe, is needed not by the martyrs themselves but by us, not by heaven but by the world. By their calamities and death it was thought that the crowds whom you yourself now see degenerate had increased. By their story, believe me, as by fire the Gospel which is now cold will become hot. A thousand ages to come will strive to emulate the brave deeds of those of whose brave deeds they will read. And the many burnings and fires, the many deaths, tears, destructions, dangers and deaths, no length of time will remove, nor the evil enemy who brought them, even though with all Phlegethon he may wish it. The enemy who once raged will not twice be violent, since God refuses it. Let him twice roar: the Shepherd with the innocent flock will be carried off, the flock will fall and the shepherd, and the future hope of the flock. No lamb will remain in the shattered folds, no beast, O my God, with upright simplicity. All good things will be overcome and yield to all bad things: benign simplicity to deceit, and faith to perfidy, the holy choir of Evangelic virtues to the unjust, false, criminal and blood-stained. What they will do learn from what they have done: things to come are proved by things past. Unless there come from heaven your Clemency by whose finger the small are lifted up and the proud fall. And may you come, eternal one, powerful, unconquered, and triumphant: come as you did in Egypt or Babylon. Draco and Belus were not so great at Babylon, and their mad cults and foul superstition. And though the cruel deeds of Egypt will be read of, Egypt was not so savage and threatening. Nor is that enough: each of them grew into a single monster, and any hydra which was more savage than both. What will the trusty herald or master of the pen be able to do against them? What will the truth-begetting of the learned school be able to do? What the gentle martyr whose whole body is torn, what the book filled and blood-stained with the martyrs? The book which sings of violent things, of living witnesses on all sides, of doers still alive, and things recently done? To be sure, to show the nature of the church of the saints, and the character of the wolves gathered from Acheron. To teach, strengthen, and comfort the hearts of the pious, and unteach, overcome and torment the wicked. That the glory you have won, O my God, may stand forever, that the glory of your Son may be able to see with you. That posterity in both sorts, good and bad, may know of the trophies of holy blood not to be hidden. These words, venerable (Foxe), sought by you with so much labour, sought by so many prayers, drawn out by so many nights, sweated over by so many days, designed to please so many good men and overwhelm so many bad, designed to spread the praises of Christ not of men throughout the world, and deeds, I believe, such as but a few ages will produce. May the Almighty prosper these (words) for you and for us, to the perpetual praise and glory of God. Let Satan be envious, and Zoilus burst his side. Let lying Rome with its company detract through envy.