SATAN

¶How long have I with toiling pain, sought Susans blood to get, What engines, snares, and other crafts, about that have I set, And yet that God still does me wrong, he does my force withstand, And them that I do seek to get, he keeps them in his hand. He suffers some to lean to me, as they would come alone, And when I think with them to meet, by him my pray is gone, O God wilt thou not yet thy spite leave of, wilt thou yet still, Seem for to offer as thou dost, and yet deny my will. Well Ill Report thou villain boy, thy bones I mean to gnaw, Because of that I gave Thee charge, I am no whit in awe. Why stand I hear and suffer him, all this while to take rest, His soul, his bones, his flesh and all, by me shall be possessed. And what there is in Hell to harm, or punish him withal, Or what I may devise anew, his flesh shall seel it all. O Boy, o Knave, o foolish Sot, shouldst thou be put in trust, And haste not wit to bring to pass, that thing I after lust. Well, well thou villain Boy and wretch, I joy thy self art come, And what I would have done to her, thou shalt have all and some. From hence therefore even presently, my journey I will take, And hie me fast for time it is, to mine infernal lake. ¶Among the plagues of Thee Oh God, Wherewith thou plaguest man, Plague such as I would have Thee plague, Or let me if I can. I wallow now in worldly wealth, And have the world at will, Into eke heart I creep by stealth, Of blood I have my fill. But yet there is a wight, In Thee Oh Babylon, Whose flesh or fleece if I may get, How well were I begun, To seek her out my self, Or to attempt her grace, I might perchance have had my pray, So eugly is my face. Well, well, I have a crafty child, His name is Ill Report, A blessed Babe that I have traynde, To talk in such a sort. That were she never so joust or true, Or liver never so chased, By hook, or crook, by trace or pace, He brings her home at last. ¶I have a Cheer for Thee to do, ¶Oh loving Boy, and dainty Child, As ever thou didst me good, Let me now crave thy good advice, To help me in this mood, Thou seest I have what I desire, In all the Country here, Yet is there one in Babylon, That never had no peer, She serveth God and on him sets, Her study and her care. ¶Oh Son it is true in deed, I would it were a lie: I would sing, I would dance, O I would skip full hie, ¶Why Knave thou wilt not hear me how I begin, ¶Why come again son art thou grown so short, ¶What Evil Report thou crooked Knave, What canst thou not hear thy Dad, Come with a proper pestilence, I think the thief be mad. ¶Oh Son. ¶Oh Boy. ¶Oh Son, Oh Boy, Oh Lord, Oh Child, Thou art my ground on Thee I do build, Be not displeased I pray Thee with all my heart, And look what thou gettest thou shalt have thy part, If thou canst compass Susanna to overthrow, Thou shalt have my blessing wheresoever I go. Because I have trusted Thee long time before, I yield it to thy policy, and I say no more. But if thou shouldst want any partly of my aid, I will be at thy hand then be not afraid, And let us see if God with all his might, Can defend this soul from our ancient spite. ¶Yea Son that I do with all my blessing, Kneel down and thou shalt have it in way of good speed, And all the Devils in Hell to help Thee at thy need. The blessing given to the Serpent which tempted Eve, And all manner extremities Thee to relieve. And that which God gave for Abel's sake to Cain, Light upon Thee with might and main. That which Jonas threatened unto Nineveh, Light on Thee and all thy posterity. And I use to be short, and in few words to tell, God send Thee a thousand plagues more then ever were found in hell, These and ten thousand when thou art laid in thy bed, To recompense thy travail light upon thy head. ¶Then farewell Boy with a pestilence,